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 yS  9<?-^ :J9  OigA-iL^S  ♦^ 
 
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 Case     Division 
 
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THE 
 
 DIGNITY 
 
 OF 
 
 HUMAN  NATURE 
 
 OR,    A    BRIEF    ACCOUNT  OF  » 
 
 A        ■       ■    • 
 
 tHE  CERTAIN  A^D  ESTABLISHED  MEANS 
 
 rOR    ATTAINING 
 
 THE  TRUE  END  OF  OUR  EXISTENCE, 
 
 IN  FOUR  BOOKS. 
 
 I.  OF  PR.UDE%XE.  J    III.  OF  VIRTUE. 
 
 II.  OF  KNOWLEDGE.  1    JV.  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 
 
 By  JAMES  BURGH. 
 
 ^  Qui  fe  ipfe  nofit,  intelllget  fe  habere  aliquld  Divinum,  femperque  et  fentict 
 *'  et  faciei  aliquid  tanto  muncre  dignimi."  Cic  kro. 
 
 i*L 
 
 A  NEW  EDITION, 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 *nnted  for  C.  Dilly,  in  the  Poultry  :  Sold  alfo  by  Berry,  Rogers,  and 
 BerrYj  inNew  York}  and  Jos.  Crookshank,  inPIiiladelphb, 
 
 MDCCXCIV, 
 
'•^s^m- 
 
 T  O 
 
 HER  ROYAL  HIGHNESS 
 
 T  HS 
 
 Princess    Dowager   of  WALES*. 
 
 May  it  pleafe  Tour  Royal  Hlghnefs, 
 
 WERE  the  fubje£l  of  the  following  fheets  treated  in  a  man- 
 ner fuitable  to  its  importance,  the  work  would  make  an 
 offering  worthy  of  a  Princefs,  whofe  character  and  conduct  ex- 
 hibit fo  fair  a  pattern  of  the  Dignity  of  Human  Nature.  The 
 gracious  condefcenfion  voluntarily  fhewn  to  the  Author  of  the 
 following  weak  Eflay,  by  Your  Royal  Highness,  on  various 
 occafions  (which  he  choofes  to  touch  upon  in  the  flightefl:  man- 
 ner poffible,  not  from  an  unnatural  and  affecled  infenfibility,  but 
 to  avoid  impvatations  altogether  contrary  to  his  temper  and  in- 
 tentions) encouraged  him  humbly  to  hope,  that  Your  Royal 
 Highness  would  deign  to  patronife  a  work,  which,  however 
 imperfe6lly  executed,  Your  Royal  Highness  knows  to  be 
 fmcerely  intended  for  the  purpofe,  which  You  have  above  all 
 things  at  heart  j  The  general  advancement  of  Truth,  Virtue, 
 and  Rehgion. 
 
 Were  it  fuitable  to  the  rank  and  abilities  of  the  Author,  it 
 would  be  very  much  fo  to  the  defign  of  the  following  work, 
 would  make  one  of  the  nobleft  parts  of  it,  and  might,  in  happier 
 times  than  ours,  prove  of  advantage  to  thofe  of  the  higher  ranks 
 in  life,  and,  through  them  to  a  whole  people  ;  to  labour  to  de- 
 hneate  a  chara6ter,  and  hold  forth  an  example,  of  which  there  is, 
 in  this  part  of  the  world,  but  on?  perfon,  that  ought  not  to  efteem 
 it  an  honour  to  be  the  imitator.  But  to  fay  nothing  of  the  dif- 
 proportionate  qualifications  of  the  writer  for  fo  delicate  an  under- 
 taking, there  is  but  little  reafon,  in  this  thoughlefs  and  volup- 
 tuous age,  to  expert  any  very  great  and  extennve  good  cfiedfs 
 from  propofmg  to  general  imitation  the  moft  amiable  and  perfect 
 
 A  2  model, 
 
 *  Firft  printed  in  the  Year  175A. 
 
I3EDICATION. 
 
 moil^iii'^OT,  alas,  to  admire  is  one. thing,  and  to  emulate,  anf- 
 iher :  Anil  it  is  even  to  be  doubted,  whether  Your  Royal 
 Highness  has  influence  enougii  to  change  the  fafhion  in  favour 
 of  Virtue  and  Religion.  While  a  continual  round  of  idle  and 
 expenllve  amufcments  fills  up  the  bulk  of  our  time,  and  is  looked 
 upon  as  the  very  Dignity  of  High  1.  ife  ;  while  the  rage  of 
 gamine  is  carried  to  an  excefs  beyond  example,  fo  that  even  the 
 facred  day  of  reft  brings  no  reft  from  that  endlefs  drudgery,  and 
 children  in  their  non-age  are,  to  the  difgrace  of  common  fenfe, 
 initiated  by  niafters  hired  for  the  purpofe,  and  furniflied  with 
 printed  fyftems  of  the  liberal  fcience  of  card- playing  j  while  the 
 grand  ftudy  of  people  of  rank  is,  How  to  drown  thought :  While 
 I'uch  is  the  genius  of  the  age,  what  hope  is  there,  that  the  retired 
 and  unaffected  virtues,  which  dazzle  not  the  common  eye,  and 
 appear  in  their  true  excellence  only  to  Him,  who  lees  not  as  man 
 fees,  fliould  allure  the  unthinking  to  imitation  !  But  when  the 
 fluttering  tribe,  who  form  tlie  crowd  at  routs  and  mafquerades, 
 are  gone  down  to  the  filent  grave,  and  have  entered  upon  a  ilate, 
 whcie  they  will  find,  amufeuient  Vv-as  not  the  end  of  their  creation  ; 
 then  will  the  honouis  of  the  Beft  of  Conforts,  and  of  Parents, 
 fliine  confpicuous  on  the  roll  of  fame,  the  delight  of  a  wifer  race, 
 and  have  a  place  among  the  celebrated  names  of  Jrria,  Cornelia^ 
 Porc'ia^  Marcia^  Jitia^  Jurelia,  and  others,  the  glory  of  the 
 a;Tiiable  fex,  whofe  charms,  other  than  of  paint,  or  drefs,  or  often- 
 tation,  will  ever  bloom  with  unfading  fp'eudour. 
 
 Proceed,  illustrious  Frin'cess  !  Continue  Your  pious  cares 
 in  forming  Your  lovely  Offspring  to  vittue  and  to  glory.  The 
 fame  fuperior  prudence,  wiiieh  has  enabled  You  in  a  country 
 where  licentioufnefs  of  fpeech  is  confidered  by  the  people  as  one 
 of  their  inoft  valuable  privileges,  to  fuftain  a  characler  of  fuch 
 dignity,  that  Malice  iijelf,  ftruck  filent,  ftands  awed  by  native 
 goodnefs  and  unaffetfted  greati.efs  of  mind  ;  the  fame  Divine 
 fupport  which  has^  faved  You  from  fmking  uncier  that  affliction 
 •which,  to  a  delicate  fpirit,  muft  have  been  beyond  expreflion  fe- 
 vere  ;  the  fame  infpiring  Grace,  which  has  formed  If  our  rifmg 
 family  fo  perfectly  to  Your  wilhes,  that  regularity  and  piety  are 
 not  only  their  practice,  but  their  pieafure  ;  the  fame  all-ruling 
 Providence,  whole  peculiar  care  Your  Royal  Highness  has 
 ever  been,  will  bring  Your  worthy  labours  to  a  happy  iflue. 
 There  is  not  a  virtue  You  can  eftabiilh  in  the  mind  of  any  of 
 Your  numerous  race,  that  may  not  hereafter  give  hjppinefs  to  a 
 kingdom.  Lvery  fpark  of  goodnefs  kindled  by  Your  care,  and 
 nourilhed  by  the  breath  of  Heaven,  may  fliine  a  propitious  ftar 
 on  Europe.  And  the  concentred  glories  of  the  whole  will,  in  the 
 higher  regions,  llicd  fuch  fplendours  on  Your  future  elevation,  that 
 You  wilfforget  that  ever  there  was  a  time  when  You  was  the 
 moft  amiable  and  admired  cliara6ter  in  this  obfcure  world. 
 
 Tq 
 
'^-■■ 
 
 DEDICATION.  v 
 
 To  Your  Royal  HiGfirtsrEss,  who  knows  thai  "the  fatrie  Di- 
 vine Authority  which  has  given  tothofewhd  turn  many  to*righ- 
 teoufnefs,  ground  to  hope,  that- they  ihall  hereafter  fliine  as  ftars 
 for  ever  and  ever,  has  ah'o  taught  us,  that  they  viho  liave  lahoureci 
 the  mori:  for  the  general  advancement  of  virtue,  are  Ifill  to  cor,- 
 Uder  themfelves  as  unprofitable  fervants,  having  done  only  what 
 they  ought;  to  Your  Royal  Htghness,  nothing  that  is  herti 
 faid  Will  appear  otherwife  than  as  a  fet  of  thou'^hts  natura'ly  flow- 
 ing from  the  artlefs  pen  of  a  writer,  independent  in  temper,  and 
 happy  in  the  profpe£l;  of  pafllng  his  days  in  a  private  and  ufeful 
 flation  ;  but  warmed  with  the  idea  of  uncommon  excellence,  and 
 the  hope  of  extenfive  advantage  to  mankind,  from  the  pious  la- 
 bours of  the  beft  of  Princefles. 
 
 That  the  mild  and  gentle  reign  of  the  mofl:  venerable  of  Mo- 
 narchs,  the  Father  of  his  people,  may  be  long  and  profperous, 
 and  that  He  may  be  blefled  of  the  King  of  kings  in  his  perfon  and 
 family;  that  public  and  private  Virtue,  and  true  Religion,  may 
 yet  again  raife  their  drooping  heads ;  that  Luxury,  infidelity. 
 Corruption,  and  Perjury,  may  fink  to  the  regions  of  darknefs, 
 whence  they  firft  arofe;  and  that  Heaven  may  again  fmile  propi- 
 tious on  thefe  once  liighly  favoured  nations;  that  the  ineftimable 
 life  of  Your  Royal  Highness  may  be  long  preferved  as  a  blef- 
 fing  to  Your  family,  and  in  them  to  mankind,  and  that  Your 
 noble  example  may  be  more  ftudied  and  imitated ;  that  his  Royal 
 Highnefs  the  Prince  of  IFales^  and  the  other  Branches  of  Your 
 illuftrious  houfe  may  bs  the  peculiar  care  of  Heaven,  a  bleffing  to 
 the  world,  and  a  crown  of  glory  to  Your  P.oyal  Highness, 
 are  the  unfeigned  wiihes  of  one,  whom  ambition  would  nevtr 
 have  prompted  (though  Your  gracious  goodnefs  has)  to  alpire  to 
 the  honour  of  fubfcribing  himfelf  thus  publicly, 
 
 (May  it  pleafe  Your  Royal  Highness) 
 
 Your  Royal  Highbjess's 
 
 Moft  devoted  and 
 
 Moft  faithful  humble  fervant, 
 
 JAMES    BURGH, 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK   T. 
 Of   Prudence. 
 
 GENERAL  Defign  of  the  Work  Page  if 
 
 ^  The  Author's  Apology                  ib. 
 
 General  Plan                  ^ 
 
 To  whom  chiefly  addrejfed                 ••                    _     _    —  3 
 
 Importance  offetting  out  in  Life  with  proper  Dignity  ib. 
 
 Prudence,  its  Jdvantages              4 
 
 General  Caufes  of  imprudent  Conduil                  »"• 
 
 PART  I. 
 
 0/ Prudence  in  Converfation, 
 
 SECT  I. 
 
 Of  treating  the  CharaSJers  of  abfent  Perfons          ■  6 
 
 Mifchiefs  of  a  turn  to  Scandal                      «— — —  7 
 
 SECT.  11. 
 
 Of  venting  fingular  Opinions                     • ^  o 
 
 Of  Madefy  in  difputing      ■        it>. 
 
 Of  being  fatirical  upon  the  Infirmities  of  others         9 
 
 Of  Rallying,  and  receiving  Raillery ib. 
 
 SECT.  III. 
 
 Of  Secrecy  and  Difcretion                  _    — — — —  jq 
 
 Of  the  Choice  of  Companions  and  Friends              — •  1 1 
 
 Of  Boafling  or  Puffing  ^                          15 
 
 Of  the  Company  of  Ladies          — — —             ■= 17 
 
 Of  Story -telling _         ^ 18 
 
 OfVifiting  where  there  is  no  real  Friendjhip                — —  19 
 
 SECT.  IV. 
 
 Of  Swearing  and  Obfcenity             — —             •    ■  ■  20 
 
 Of  Complaifance '  ib. 
 
 Of  Imitation  of  the  befi  Models 
 
 21 
 
 Of  Overbearing  -  •-  ■  '  lb. 
 
 Of  a  paj/ionate  Behaviour  22 
 
 OfDrcfs,  and  the  Circumjlantials  of  Behaviour  —  24 
 
 SECT.  V. 
 
 One  hundred  and  twenty  Mifcellaneous  Dire£lions  on  Prudence 
 in  Converfation  ""      "  —— ■°"—  24 
 
 PART 
 
CONTENTS.  vii 
 
 PART.  IL 
 
 0/" Prudence  in  Action* 
 
 SECT.  I. 
 Of  following  Advice^  and  SubmiJJion  to  Superiors  Page  38 
 
 SECT.  IL 
 
 Of  Method  in  Bufmefs 41 
 
 Of  Application  -^ — ■  — •  42 
 
 Of  Attention  to  Times  and  Opportunities  — — — ,  4^ 
 
 Of  Trifling  to  others  — — —  ib. 
 
 iSECT.  III. 
 
 Of  Frugality  and  Oeconomy  — —  44 
 
 Of  Diverfions  — •■  4^ 
 
 SECT,  IV, 
 
 Of  Over -trading  •■■  ■  5^ 
 
 Of  Integrity  in  Dealings  frudentially  confidered  52 
 
 Of  lending  Money  •  ■  53 
 
 Of  Caution  in  dealing  with  artful  People  -  *  ib. 
 
 Of  finding  out  the  true  Characters  of  iVIen  ■  54 
 
 Of  Promifers  — 55 
 
 Of  Prudence  in  cafe  of  being  obliged  to  flop  Payments  ib. 
 Of  the  Connexions  between  the  different  Parts  of  Men's  Cha- 
 racters                       -■                                 ••  56 
 
 SECT.  V. 
 
 Of  Regard  to  the  Opinion  of  Others  ■  60 
 
 Of  ^mrrels  •  • 6r 
 
 Of  Duels  .  62 
 
 SECT.  VL 
 
 Of  Marriage^  and  DireHions  for  proceeding  in  a  judicious 
 Manner  in  that  important  Concern  ■  63 
 
 SECT.  VII. 
 
 Of  the  Management  of  Children                            '  ••  'j'o 
 
 Of  the  bodily  Infirmities  of  Children  — »  8i 
 
 SECT.  VIIL 
 
 Of  the  peculiar  Management  of  Daughters^  and  Education 
 proper  for  them  — — ■ — -  — —  83 
 
 SECT.  IX. 
 Of  placing  out  Touth^  intended  for  Bufmefs,  ..^.^  S'4 
 
 A  4  SECT. 
 
y-i  CONTENTS. 
 
 SECT.  X. 
 
 Ofchoofmg  Employments  for  Sons  according  to  their  various 
 
 Capacities  and  Turns  of  Mind  Page  86 
 
 Of  providing  Fortunes  for  Sons  • •  oB 
 
 SECT.  XL 
 Of  fettling  Children  of  both  Sexes  in  Life  - — -  89 
 
 SECT.  XII. 
 Of  retiring  from  Bufinefs^  and  Requifites  for  making  Retire- 
 ment agreeable  •  ■  ^ 
 SECT.  XIII. 
 
 Of  Difpofmg  of  Ejfeifs  by  TFill  *  90 
 
 SECT.  XIV. 
 Of  Old  Age^  and  Requifites  for  pajfing  through  it^  and  bearing 
 
 its  Infirmities  vjith  Dignity  92 
 
 SECT.  XV, 
 Of  the  Dignity  of  Female  Life,  prudentially  conftdered  94 
 
 SECT.  XVI. 
 Two  Hundred  Mifcellaneous  DireJfions  on  Prudence  in  ASiion     98 
 
 BOOK  II. 
 Of  Knowledge, 
 
 Knowledge  valuable,  though  not  a  SubjeSi  of  Vanity  lig 
 
 Immenfe  Difference  between  an  improved  and  an  uncultivated 
 
 Mind  121 
 
 The  Improvement  of  the  Mind  by  Knowledge  an  indifpenfabls 
 
 Part  of  our  Duty  -■    —  •  123 
 
 Human  Knowledge,  fcanty  as  it  is,  truly  admirable  \  25 
 
 Defpifers  of  Knowledge  the  Difgrace  of  the  Species  1 28 
 
 SECT.  I. 
 
 Of  Education  from  Infancy,  and  neceffity  of  laying  the  Foun- 
 dation of  all  Improvements  in  the  Knowledge  of  Morality         129 
 
 ObjeSiion  anfwered  132 
 
 Of  Moral  Principles  fit  to  be  eflablifhed  in  the  Minds  of  Chil- 
 dren at  three  or  four  Tears  of  Age  —  ib. 
 
 Ejfay  toward  a  Method  ofinfiruSiing  Youth  in  Morals  and  Re- 
 ligion at  private  Places  of  Education  - jb. 
 
 Of  Exciting  in  the^n  a  Defire  to  underfiand  Holy  Scripture        1 3 ■^ 
 
 SECT.  II. 
 
 Intention  and  Method  of  Education  in  Human  Learning  140 
 
 Plan  of  Education  fr'jm  fix  Tears  of  Age  to  the  finifhing  of  the 
 
 Pucnle  Studies  -  - -^-i  141 
 
 ^eries' 
 
CONTENTS.  i* 
 
 ^erks  on  the  Conjiitutlon  anct' Method  in  certain  Places  of 
 
 Education  Page  143 
 
 Concurrence  of  the  Parents  mceffary  ■  '     '■  14$ 
 
 SECT.  III. 
 Procefs  of  Education  from  four  Tears  of  Age ;  and  firfi^  of 
 
 Grammar  and  Latin  ■■-  ■■■  14* 
 
 Of  French^  and  proper  Books  recommended  -     ■■  149 
 
 Of  Latin  Authors  proper  to  be  read  from  the   beginning  to 
 
 twelve  Tears  of  Age  ■  •■■  ib. 
 
 Of  fVriting  and  Arithmetic y  and  proper  Bocks  •-  ■    ■  1 50 
 
 Of  Geometry^  and  proper  Books  ■  ib. 
 
 Of  the  Greek  Language^  and  proper  Authors  — —  15  f 
 
 Of  Latin  Authors  proper  to  be  read  from  twelve  or  fourteen 
 
 Tears  of  Age  and  upwards  -■'  ib. 
 
 Of  improving  their  Elocution  •  15* 
 
 Of  giving  them  a  TinSlure  of  the  Principles  of  Criticifm  ib. 
 
 Of  Botk-keeping  ■  ■  I5J 
 
 Of  the  Knowledge  of  the  Globes^  and  Geography  and  proper 
 
 Books  •  -'  ib« 
 
 Of  Algebra^  and  proper  Books  •  •  1 54 
 
 Of  Chronology,  and  Rudiments  of  Hi/lory  »  ■     ■  ib. 
 
 Of  rational  Logic  •  ib. 
 
 Of  Experimental  Philofophy,  and  proper  Books  and  Apparatus    155 
 Of  Dancing,  Fencing,  and  other  ornamental  Accomplijhments      156 
 
 SECT.  IV. 
 
 Of  Manly  Studies,  or  thofe  Improvements  which  a  Gentleman 
 muji  carry  on  by  himfelf  after  the  fnifning  of  his  Education, 
 and  preparatory  Books                                       •  1 58 
 Importance  of  getting  early  into  a  good  Method  of  Study  ib. 
 Of  Hijlory,  Biography,   Theory  of  Government,  Law,  Com- 
 merce, Oeconomics,  and  Ethics,  and  proper  Books  159 
 Great  Advantages  of  the  Study  of  HijJory  and  Biography ;  and 
 Authors,  ancient  and  ?nodern                         ■  l6'5 
 
 Of  Ecclefiajiical  Hiftory,  and  proper  Books              166 
 
 Of  the  Theory  of  Government  arid  Law,  and  proper  Books  168 
 
 Of  Commerce,  and  proper  Books                    ib. 
 
 Of  the  Human  Mind,  and  proper  Books                   -  1 69 
 
 Of  Oecono7nics,  and  proper  Books                     "  1 70 
 
 Of  Ethics,  and  proper  Books                     ■  .1 17 1 
 
 Of  Phyfiology,  or  the  Knowledge  of  Nature,  Advantages  of  that 
 
 Study                           T                         ib. 
 
 Of  the  higher  Parts  of  pure  Mathematics,   and  proper  Books  179 
 
 Of  the  Newtonian  Phiiofopby  '  -  ib. 
 
 General  Lift  of  Bocks  on  the  various  Parts  of  Natural  Philo- 
 
 fophy,  and  Mixt  Mathematics                          ib. 
 
 Apparatus  for  Experimental  Philofophy              .—  iHo 
 
 SECT.  Y. 
 
 Of  forming  a  Tafic  in  polite  Learning  and  Arts  l8o 
 
 Error 
 
%  CONTENTS. 
 
 Error  in  carryh:^  this  to  Exccfs  •  Page  l8i 
 
 Extravagant  A,I,uiration  of  the  Aticutjts  to  the  unjujl  Difpa- 
 
 ragement  of  the  Moderns  -  ■     -  io. 
 
 General  Lift  of  the  IVriters  in  the  Belles  Lcttres^  and  polite 
 
 ArtSy  ancient  and  modern  185 
 
 SECT.  VL 
 Cf  Travel.^  its  Ufe^  end  Perverfion  ■■    ■       »  187 
 
 SECT.  vir. 
 
 Of  the  comparative  Importance  of  the  various  Branches  of 
 Knowledge,  refpelfiveiy,  and  with  regard  to  differ l  nt  Ranks 
 and  Stations  in  Life  —  1 8^ 
 
 SECT.  VIII. 
 
 Cautions  againfl  the  co7nmon  Errors  in  Study,  andfrfi^  Of 
 Over-reading  — — -  1  196 
 
 Of  too  confined  Studie's  ■  198 
 
 Of  piirjuing  Studies  inconfflent  with  one  another  at  the  fame 
 
 time  •  '  lb. 
 
 Ofrcadi7tg  by  Fits  —  — — — —  199 
 
 Of  laborious  Trifling  ——  — '  ib. 
 
 Of  Lazincfs  in  Study — — •  ib'. 
 
 Of  Reading  for  Amufement  only  — — -  200 
 Of  knowing  the  Extent  of  one  s  natural  Abilities              —  ib. 
 Of  the  EffcSls  of  People's  natural  Ternpers  upon  their  Improve- 
 ment                                                       '                                201 
 
 Of  a  Turn  to  difputing  without  fufficient  Funds  of  Knowledge     IQil. 
 Of  Partial  Reading  •  ■■  ib. 
 
 Of  the  chief  Hindrances  t9  Improvement  -  204 
 
 OfUnfleadinefs  in  Opinion  —  '  206 
 
 Of  Declamatory  JVr  iters         — —  ■  ib. 
 
 Directions  for  examining  difficult  and  complex  Subje£ls  207 
 
 Clearnefs  of  moral  SubjcSfs  co?nparcd  with  fcientific         —  212. 
 
 BOOK     III. 
 Of  Virtue. 
 
 That  the  chief  Dignity  of  Human   Nature  conffis  in   Mans 
 being  a  moral  Agent  •  • ■  2 14 
 
 Our  Faculties  faf'/y  trufled,  and  ?iot  to  he  doubted  by  us  215 
 
 Certainty  attainable  in  Morals-,  as  well  as  other  Subjeils  1 1 9 
 
 Certainty  attainable  by  Senfation,   Intuition,  Dedu£iidn,  Tefii- 
 mony^  and  Revelation  —  "  226 
 
 Jill  Evidence  flnally  refolvable  into  Intuition  -  ib. 
 
 A/l  Truths  alike  certain  ;  but  not  alike  obvious  —  ib. 
 
 Recapitulation  of  the  above  Reafonings  o:i  Certainty         —         227 
 4  SECT, 
 
CONTENTS.  .     %l 
 
 SECT.  I. 
 
 T^e  Being  and  Attributes  of  God  cJlabUJljed^  as  the  Foundation 
 of  Morality  —  Page  228 
 
 Something  exi/is^  a  'Truth,  %vhich  no  Man  can  doubt  —  ib. 
 
 Something  fnuf,  therefore^  have  always  exijled,  which  exijls 
 necejfarily  ■•■  *  •  ib. 
 
 For  an  inffiite  Succejfion  of  dependent  Caufes  produced  one  by 
 another  is  not  a  fatitfying  /iccoUniy  how  fotnething  comes  to 
 exijl  nozv  — —  — .  229 
 
 "Nor  is  the  material  IVorld,  nor  Chance^  the  original  Caufe  cf 
 Exijlence  —  ■  ib. 
 
 ^he  Firji  Caufe  of  Exiflence  muft  be  One,  viz.  perfcSi  in  all 
 pojjible  confiflent  Attributes — in  IVifdom — in  Goodnefs — in 
 Power — in  Truth,  or  Reiiitude — and  in  every  other  natural 
 and  moral  Attribute  ■  2  'lO 
 
 'Ihat  Virtue,  or  KcSiitude,  in  a  created  Being,  is,  a  Conformity 
 in  Difpofition  and  Pra£lice  to  the  necefjdry  and  unchangeable 
 Reciitude  of  the  Divine  Nature  ■■  2*24. 
 
 J^he  firjl  Caufe  not  to  be  conftdered,  as  made  up  of  his  fever al 
 Attributes,  any  more  than  the  Human  Mind  as  made  up  of 
 its  fever  al  Faculties  '  2  ■?  C 
 
 An  Effay  toward  the  moji  perfe£l  Idea^  the  Human  Mind  can 
 form  of  Deity  ,  236 
 
 SECT.  II. 
 
 An  Idea  of  the  Divine  Scheme  in  Creation  — —  2'?  7 
 
 That  an  tlmverfe  mufi,   in  Confequence  of  the  infinite  Wifdo7n 
 
 of  the  Creator,  be  complete,  and  without  Chafms  between  the 
 
 various  Orders  of  Beings  —  2  ?S 
 
 The  Happinefs  of  confcious  Beings,  the  only  Erid,  for  which  they 
 
 were  brought  ifiio  Exiflence  ■  ilO- 
 
 Happinefs,  its  Foundation  -  ■  ib, 
 
 Univ  erf  a  I  and  regular  Concurrence  of  all  Parts  of  the  Sy/hm  to 
 
 one  great  E',id  abjoluicly  neceffary  to  TJniverfal  PerfeSlion  and 
 
 Happinefs  — 24.2 
 
 Happinefs  of  different  confcious  Beings  different,  and  in  what 
 
 it  refpe£iively  confijls  —  ■.     ■  Jjj^ 
 
 The  inanimate,  or  ?naterial  Part  of  the  Creation,  hoiv  tnade  to 
 
 anfwer  the  Divine  Intention  • ■  lYt 
 
 The  animal,  irrational  Natures,   how  brought  to  perform  their 
 
 Part  in  the  TJniverfal  Scheme  • 245 
 
 The  rational  World  of  inco?7iparahly  greater  Confequence  in  the 
 
 Univerfal  Syjiem,  than  the  other  tiuo  ■  ib, 
 
 SECT.  III. 
 
 Neceffary,  in  order  to  underfland,  wherein  the  Concurrence  of 
 the  Human  Species,  luith  the  Univerfal  Scheme,  c-ovfijis^  to 
 eorfidfr  a  littli  the  Nature  of  Man    '' 246 
 
^a  CONTENT  b\ 
 
 77yat  tt-r  arc  equally  at  a  Lofs  about  the  ejfcntial  Nature  of  our 
 Bodies  and  our  Souls  —  -Page  246 
 
 Wkerciit  our  Superiority  to  the  ani?nal  Creation  chiefly  confifts       ib. 
 
 Our  Nature  and  State  altogether  ineomprehenfible,  without  taking 
 in  the  Fiew  of  our  heiiig  intended  for  Immortality         —         247 
 
 Proofs  of  the  hmnortality  of  the  Soul  taken  firfi  from  its  Nature     ib. 
 
 Dijfculiy  of  the  mutual  Imprejfions  made  by  the  Soul  and  Body^ 
 cleared  up^  fo  far  as  relates  to  their  being  of  different  Natures  250 
 
 Prcfumptions  in  Favour  of  the  Opinion  of  the  hnmortality  of 
 the  Soul,  and  its  pajfing  through  different  fucceffive  States, 
 from  Analogy  ■  253 
 
 Proofs  of  the  Im7nortality  of  the  Soul,  and  a  future  State,  from 
 the  Moral  Attributes  of  God,  the  moji  convincing  of  any,  ex- 
 cept thofe  which  Revelation  yields  ^54 
 
 Unequal  Difiribution  of  Happinefs  among  the  inferior  Creatures, 
 confidered,fo  far  as  it  affeSfs  the  Argufnent         255 
 
 Tlje  moJi  elevated  Mind  has  the  bejf  Affurances  of  its  oivn  hn- 
 mortality    261 
 
 SECT.  IV. 
 
 Man's  prefent  Station,  In  regard  to  his  Prcfpecl  for  Futurity, 
 drfirahle  261 
 
 Ihat  the  Connection  between  the  ConduSi  of  moral  Agents  and 
 their  final  State,  with  refped  to  Happinefs  or  Mi f cry,  isrea- 
 fnable  and  necejfary  — — —  263 
 
 ^hat  there  is,  noiwithjianding  this,  an  abjolute,  independent 
 Re£litude,  and  the  contrary,  in  the  Anions  of  tnoral  Agents, 
 feparate  from  ail  Conf  deration  of  confequent  Happinefs,  or 
 Mifcry,  which  Rectitude  is  founded'^in  the  Divine  Attribute 
 ofReSiitude  264 
 
 That  however y  the  natural  Confequences  of  Actions,  are  in  gene- 
 ral a  very  jufficieni  Criterion,  by  tuhich  to  try,  whether  they 
 he  morally  good,  or  evil  265 
 
 No  poffible  Scheme  for  bringing  the  human  Species  to  a  fpontane- 
 Dus  Choice  of  Virtue,  or  to  a  due  Concurrence  in  their  Sphere, 
 with  the  general  Intention  of  the  Governor  of  the  World ;  but 
 DifiipUne  266 
 
 *Ihat  Human  Virtue  confijis  in  the  proper  Application,  and  due 
 Improve7nent,  of  cur  feveral  Powers  267 
 
 Human  Liberty  of  Agency  ejiablijhed,  and  Obje£lions  anfwcred     ib. 
 
 Probable  that  all  created,  rational  Beings  are  formed  to  Virtue 
 in  the  fame  Manner  as  our  Species,  to  wit,  by  Difcipline, 
 and  Habit  271. 
 
 SECT.  V. 
 
 77?(?/  the  State,  we  find  surfelves  in,  is  very  proper  f 07-  a  State 
 
 of  Difcipline  in  Virtue  —  — 273 
 
 Variou'^ 
 
CONTENTS.  xul 
 
 Various  InJiruSilons  for  this  piirpofe  prefented  to  us  by  Niiture^ 
 by  our  own  Bodies  and  Minds ^  by  the  Conjiitution  and  Courfe 
 of  the  IVorld^  and  above  all  by  Revelation         —         Page  274 
 
 The  whole  Species  formed  naturally  capable  of  future  Happinefs  278 
 
 Difficulties  in  the  Divine  Oeconomy  of  the  moral  World  at- 
 tempted to  he  chared  up  —   •  ■■  280 
 
 Difficulties  to  be  expeSfcd,  and  even  to  be  looked  upon  as  a  Beauty, 
 in  a  Scheme  fo  auguji  and  extenftve  289 
 
 SECT.  VI. 
 
 That  our  Species,  and  all  rational  Agents,  in  order  to  their  per- 
 forming their  Part  properly,  and  contributing  to  XJniverfal 
 Perfe^io72  and  Happinefs,  muji  refolve  to  aH  agreeably  to  ths 
 threefold  Obligation,  which  they  are  under,  to  luit,  zviih  Re- 
 gard to  Thejnfehes,  their  Fellow-creatures,  and  their  Creator  291 
 Our  Duty,  tvith  rcfpc5i  to  Ourfelves,  confijh  in  the  proper  Care 
 of  the  two  Parts  of  our  Nature,  the  mental'^  and  the  bodily     lb. 
 
 Of  the  Pojfions  or  Motions  of  the  Mind  —  293 
 
 Previous  Directions  necejfary  toward  the  due  Regulaiion  of  the 
 
 Pajficns  ^  ■    ..  ..  294. 
 
 Abfurd.iiy  of  Pride,  and  Advantages  of  Humility  — -  296 
 
 I^eccffity  of  Self-knowledge,  and  of  Self-reverence         299 
 
 General  Rule  for  the  Conduct  of  the  Paffons  —  2ot 
 
 Of  the  Pajfion  of  Love,  or  Defire,  its  proper  Obje£ls,  and  due 
 
 Regulation  -^02 
 
 Of  Self-love  _  304. 
 
 Of  Ambition,  or  Defire  of  Praife  —  •  -^05 
 
 Of  Anger  •  306 
 
 Of  the  Paffions  of  Envy,  Malice,  and  Revenge  —  309 
 
 Of  Sympathy  — —  o-o 
 
 Of  Fear  ib. 
 
 Of  Grief  . 3jr 
 
 Of  the  Love  of  Life  ■  •  ■  312 
 
 Of  the  Love  of  Riches  '  • 313 
 
 Of  the  Appetites  of  Hunger  and  Thirji,  the  life  and  Abiifc  of 
 
 them  314 
 
 Of  the  mutual  Defres  of  the  Sexes  3  { 9 
 
 Of  the  Love  of  Sleep  and  Indulgence — of  Diverfions — and  of 
 Finery  in  Drefs  321 
 
 SECT.  VII. 
 
 Of  our   Obligations  with  refpeSi  to  our  Fellow-creatures,   the 
 
 Foundation  of  all  which  Duties  is  Benevole7ice  —  326 
 
 Self-love,  luhy  made  the  Meafure  of  our  Benevolence  327 
 
 Suiurnary  of  our  Duty  to  our  Fellow-creatures  • •  ib.' 
 
 Of 
 
 t  Improvement  of  the  Underftandlag  treated  cf  in  tb.e  forego'ns  Book. 
 
xlv  CONTENTS. 
 
 Of  Negati've  Goodnefs  —  — —  Page  32H 
 
 Of  Juli'ue  and  Inju/iice^  xvith  refpeSf  to  our  Neighbour's  Pro- 
 perty— to  bis  Reputation — to  his  Per  Jon — and  to  his  Soul  ib. 
 
 Of  facial  Duties^  and  firji^   Of  the  Love  of  our  Country  342 
 
 Reciprocal  Duties  of  Parents  and  Children — of  Spiritual  Paflors 
 and  their  Flocks — of  Teachers  and  Scholars — of  Ma  ft  er^  and 
 Servants — of  Hujhands  and  f Fives — of  collateral  Relations 
 — of  Friends — of  the  Rich  and  Poor  350 
 
 Duty  of  the  IVije  and  Learned^  and  all  ivho  are  poffeffed  of  un- 
 common Talents  and  Advantages  353 
 
 Duty  to  BenefaSftrs  and  Enemies  ib. 
 
 Divine  Intention  in  engaging  us  in  fuch  a  Variety  of  ConneElions  ib. 
 
 Self-cxaJnination  on  the  foregaing  Heads  recommended  354 
 
 SECT.  VIII. 
 
 Of  oicr  Obligations  with  rrJpeSi  to  our  Creator  ;  andfirff^  Of 
 «.  zmprefiiyig  our  Minds  with  a  rational  and  praSiical  Belief 
 
 of  his  Exijience  356 
 
 Of  his  Right  to  our  Obedience  and  Adoration 359 
 
 iff eful  Moral  -Refusions  on  the  Divine  Attributes  360 
 
 On    the  Omniprefence  of  God — his  Eternity — his  Poiver — his 
 
 Wifdom — and  his  Goodnefs  —  ■■  .  361 
 
 Of  the  Duty  of  Prayer y  and  Obje^ions  anfivered        •■  372 
 
 Of  Public  fVorJhip  . . 377 
 
 Of  Family  Religion  —  >  379 
 
 Of  Praifmg  God  ■  382 
 
 jlmazing  Stupidity  of  Numbers  of  Mankind.,   tvho  altogether 
 
 negle£x  their  Creator ,  and  all  the  Duty  they  owe  hi?n  384 
 
 SECT.  IX. 
 
 One  hundred  and fixty  Mifcellaneous  Thoughts,  and^DireJIions, 
 chiefly  Ahral  — - 385 
 
 BOOK   IV. 
 Of  Revealed  Religion. 
 
 That  fuppofing  it  pnffble.^  or  probable^  that  m  Revelation  may 
 have  been  given  by  God.,  it  is  a  Duty  of  Natural  Religion 
 to  inquire  with  Candour^  into  its  Pretenfons^  and  to  give  it 
 a  proper  Reception  405 
 
 That  there  is  nothing  abfurdy  or  incredible,  in  fuppofing  that  a 
 Revelation  may  have  been  given  •  406 
 
 Of  the  Guilt  of  wilfully  oppofng,  or  negleSiing,  a  Revelation 
 from  God  ■  ■  407 
 
 Of  the  Wifdom  of  attending  to  Revelation  • ib. 
 
 J  dire^  Revealed  Law  highly  proper  and  fit  for  fuch  Beings 
 as  Mankind  — —  "  ,.     -     n  408 
 
 Revelation 
 
CONTENTS.  xr 
 
 S.evelation  given  as  a  Fart  of  our  Trial  and  D'ljdprim     Page  40?) 
 ^he  IVorld  probably  never  wholiy  without  a  Revelation  ib. 
 
 Previous  Requijttes  for  a  proper  Inquiry  into  Revelation  4 1  o 
 
 ^  SECT.  I. 
 
 Previous  ObjeiSions  again/?  a  Revelation  in  general  and  thnt 
 of  Scripture  in  particular,  conftdered.  And firj}^  Of  the 
 Need  Mankind  food  in^  of  exprefs  hfortnations  from  Hea- 
 ven^ in  Anjwer  to  the  Ohje£lion  of  the  Sujfjciency  of  Human 
 Reafon  for  all  Moral  Purpofes  •  41 1 
 
 T^he  Hottentots,  and  other  barbarous  Natiotis,  the  only  fair 
 Examples  of  the  Reach  of  mere  Hu?nan  Reafon  ;  mof  Farts 
 of  the  civilized  World  having  been  partly  illuminated  by  Re- 
 velation and  therefore  not  altogether  in  a  State  of  Nature       412 
 
 Of  the  State  of  the  Antediluvian  and  fucceeding  Times^  and 
 Countries^  in  luhich  Revelation  was  but  little  known     —        ib. 
 
 Of  the  Incapacity  of  7nere  Human  Reafon  in  religitus  Matter s, 
 as  it  appears  in  the  Mahometan  and  Popifi)  Inventions         416 
 
 Revelation  not  intended  ts  fuperfede^  hut  improve  Reafon  x\.'] 
 
 Okjeiiion,  Of  the  Abufe  of  Revelation^  by  weak  or  dcfigning 
 Men^  conjidered  ib. 
 
 Of  its  being  unworthy  of  the  Divine  Wifdom  to  have  Rfcourfe 
 '  to  an  extraordinary  Inter pofition 4 1 5 
 
 Revelation  analogous  to  the  Conjlitution  and  Courfe  of  the  World  41  q 
 
 Mfurdity  of  oppofing  Revelation  on  account  of  its  not  fidting  our 
 pre -conceived  Notions  —  421 
 
 Difficulties  to  be  expected  in  a  Revelation  from  God        —         423 
 
 Difficulties  no  Ohjetiion  \  though  dire£l  Abfurdities  and  Con- 
 tradictions are  —  ■  424 
 
 ^hat  Revelation  might  be  expeSled  to  fuit  our  Notions  in  fome 
 particulars^  and  in  others  to  differ  from  them  —  425 
 
 ^/the  Scripture-fyle  —  .,  426 
 
 SECT.  II. 
 
 A  Compendious  View  of  the  Scheme  of  Divine  Revelation  431 
 
 Thoughts  on  the  Extent  of  the  ProfpeSi  opened  by  Revelation  ibl 
 
 The  Accounts  given  by  it^  plainly  J uperior  to  Human  Sagacity  432 
 Qf  the  Creation — the  Fall^  and  Deaths  its  Coufequcncc — of  the 
 fird  Prophecy  of  a  future  Refioration  of  Mankind — of  the 
 general  Deluge — the  Noachic  Difpcnfation — the  Tower  of 
 Babel — the  DeflruSfion  of  the  Cities  of  the  Plain — the  Call 
 of  Abraham — li^e  miraculous  Hi/iory  of  his  Pofierity  the 
 Ifraeiites  and  Jews — the  Divine  Difpenfation  to  that  People 
 ^and  the  Chrijiian  Scheme             —                  ■  434 
 
 ^efeilions  on  the  Whole  —  453 
 
 SECT. 
 
Sivi  CONTENTS. 
 
 SECT.  III. 
 
 Confidsrailom  en  fome  Particulars  in  Revealed  Religion    Page  454 
 The  Do^rinc  of  Providence^  tijough  a  Point  of  Natural  Reli- 
 gion^ more  properly  confidered  under  Revelation  ;   as  receiving 
 from  thence  its  chi:f  Confirmations  •■  ib. 
 
 Arguments  for  its  Truths  fir/f^,from  Reafon^  as  from  the  Ne- 
 cejftty  of  a  continued  Divine   Interpofition^  and  Agency^  in 
 
 the  Natural  World  —  456 
 
 Other- Arguments  and  Pnfuynptions  from  Rcafon  —  457 
 
 Befl  eftahlijhed  by  Revelation  • 459 
 
 The  Diffculties  relating  to  the  EjfcSis  of  the  Fally  upon  the 
 Species  in  general^  confidered  —  — —  46 1 
 
 Of  the  general  Deluge  —  — 462 
 
 Of  the  Fallen  Angels  •  466 
 
 Of  the  Incarnation  and  Hum.iliation  of  Chrlfl:  —  468 
 
 Of  the  Efficacy  of  his  Death  for  the  Reft  oration  of  Mankind      ^']0 
 Of  the  RefurreSlion  of  the  Body  —  ■<  ■  ■  •  472 
 
 Of  the  future  general  fudgment         —  —-474 
 
 SECT.  IV. 
 
 Conftderations  on  the  Credibility  of  Scripture  — — .  4^6 
 
 Rcquiftcs  for  thoroughly  examining  the  various  Kinds  of  Evi- 
 dence for  Revelation  — —  — —  477 
 Fallacious  Proceedings  of  the  Oppofers  of  Revealed  Religion  ib. 
 Tejlimonies  of  Heathen  Writers,  which  countenance  Scripture     478 
 Simplicity  of  the  Narration^  an  Argument  for  the  Truth  of  the 
 
 Accounts  given  in  Holy  Scripture  — —  48  J 
 
 Of  the  Scripture  Miracles  —  —  484 
 
 Of  the  Difficulties  of  the  Dcemoniacs  ^-  —  ■  491 
 
 Of  Prophecy  —  496 
 
 A  view  of  fome  of  the  moji  unquejiionable  PrediSiions  of  Holy 
 
 Scripture  —  49/ 
 
 No  fatisfa6lory  Account  to  he  given  of  the  Prevalence^  and 
 EJiabliJhmcnty  of  Chrijliamty,  hut  its  being  really  a  Divine 
 
 Jnjiitution  —  5^^ 
 
 That  Chrirt  7nuft  have  either  been  truly  the  Son  of  God  and 
 
 Saviour  of  the  World^.or  an  Impoftor,  or  Madman  5^3 
 
 That  he  CQuld  not  be  either  of  the  latter  Jhewn  —  5' 4 
 
 That  the  Chrijiian  Religion  is  not  a  pious  Fraud  Jhewn  518 
 
 JPrefumptions  in  Favour  of  Chri/iianity  from  the  ConduSi  of 
 thofe^  who  lived  at  the  Time  of  its  fir (i  Appearance — of  the 
 Apojiles,  and  particularly  of  St.  VzuV  —  519 
 
 The  Character  and  Conduit  of  Chrift  himfelf  dhnfidercd  more 
 particularly^  as  a  Prefumption  in  Favour  of  his  Religion        5221 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 Self-examination  recommended  to  the  Reader,  on  the  chief  Points 
 in  which  the  Dignity  of  Human  Nature  (onfifis         — ^  53^ 
 
THE 
 
 DIGNITY 
 
 HUMAN       NATURE. 
 
 BOOK   I. 
 Of  Prudence. 
 
 *■  ■     —  -11.  II  aBBW^HBWW— ^iM— ^*^    ■  —  ■  ■  ,. . 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 TO  fhevv  what  is  truly  great,  ornamental,  or  ufeful, 
 in  life;  to  call  the  attention  of  mankind  to  objeds 
 worthy  of  their  regard,  as  rational  and  immortal  beings  ; 
 to  give  a  brief  but  comprehenfive  account  of  the  certain 
 and  eftabliilied  means  for  attaining  the  true  end  of  our 
 exillence,  happinefs  in  the  prefent  and  future  Hates;  is 
 the  delign  of  the  following  effay. 
 
 The  motives  which  engaged  the  author  to  attempt 
 a  talk,  confeffedly  too  arduous  for  any  fingle  hand,  were 
 fuch  as  to  him  feemed  fufficient  to  juilify  his  afpiring, 
 where  even  a  failure,  if  not  too  fhameful,  raufl  deferve 
 praife ;  as,  encouragements  from  perfons,  for  whom  he 
 joins  with  all  mankind  in  having  the  moll  profound  re- 
 gard and  veneration  ;  the  candor  he  has,  in  fome  more 
 inconfiderable  attempts,  met  with  from  the  public ;  the 
 hope  of  receiving  improvement  to  himfelf  from  di- 
 gelling  and  compiling  fuch  a  work,  and  from  the  opi- 
 nion of  the  judicious  upon  it :  Thefe  feveral  coniidera- 
 tions  had  defervedly  their  refpedive  intluence.  But 
 what  rendered  the  attempt  more  proper  and  neceiTary, 
 was  a  diredt  view  to  the  advantage  of  fome  young  per- 
 fons, in  other  parts  of  the  world,  as  well  as  Englajidy 
 with  whom  his  connexions  are  fuch,  as  to  give  them  a 
 right  to  the  fruit  of  his  belt  abilities  in  the  liierary  kind  ; 
 
 B  ^     '      and 
 
^  T'HE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  L 
 
 and  vtlio  will  not  probably  fail  to  pay  a  peculiar  regard 
 to  whatever  comes  from  him. 
 
 To  exhibit  a  comprehenfive  idea  of  the  true  Dignity 
 of  Human  Nature,  it  will  be  neceffary  to  confider  what 
 is  fit  for  abcing,  who  at  prefent  inhabits  a  perilhing  body, 
 itfelf  an  immortal  fpirit;  for  a  creature  capable  of  ac- 
 tion, of  making  himfelf  and  others  happy  in  this  world, 
 and  of  being  rewarded  and  punifhed  hereafter  accord- 
 ing to  his  conduct ;  for  a  nature  fitted  for  fecial  virtue, 
 j:nd  brought  into  exiftence  to  be  prepared  for  glory  and 
 happinefs. 
 
 Jt  is  neceffary,  in  order  to  a  man's  filling  properly  his 
 place  in  fociety,  that  he  regulate  his  condudl  by  the  laws 
 of  prudence  and  virtue.  To  anfwer  the  Divine  inten- 
 tion in  furnifhing  him  with  rational  faculties,  it  is  evi- 
 dently proper,  that  he  labour  to  improve  thofe  faculties 
 ■with  knowledge.  And  in  order  to  his  gaining  the  fa- 
 vour of  the  fupreme  Governor  of  the  world,  upon  which 
 alone  the  happinefs  of  all  created  beings  depends,  it  is 
 plain,  that  obedience  to  his  laws  is  indifpenfably  ne- 
 ceffary, which  comprehends  religion,  natural  and  re- 
 \^ealed.  The  Dignity  of  Human  Nature  may  then  be 
 exhibited  under  the  four  following  heads,  viz. 
 
 I.  Pr-Udence,  or  fuch  a  conduct  wiih  refpe<5t  to  fe- 
 cular  affairs,  as  is  proper  in  itfelf,  and  fuitable  to  re- 
 fpeclive  circumftances,  and  naturally  tends  to  make 
 a  man  happy  in  himfelf,  and  ufeful  in  fociety. 
 
 II.  Kn"owledge,  or  the  improvement  and  enlarge- 
 ment of  the  faculties  of  the  mind,  as  underftand- 
 ing,  memory,  and  imagination. 
 
 III.  Virtue,  or  a  conformity  of  difpofition  and  prac- 
 tice to  redlitude,  in  all  refpeds,  as  to  ourfelves,  our 
 fellow-creatures,  and  our  Maker. 
 
 IV.  Revealed  Religion,  or  a  due  inquiry  into, 
 and  proper  regard  to,  any  exprefs  revelation,  which 
 the  fupreme  Being  may  have  given  to  mankind. 
 
 The  bufinefs  of  life  is  ferious,  not  ludicrous.  No  or- 
 der of  beings  (efpecially  of  rationals)  was  brought  into 
 
 ex- 
 
OfPrv.dence.)  HUMAN  NATURE*  3 
 
 exiftence  wholly  for  pleafure  and  amufement ;  but  to  fill 
 feme  ufeful  place,  and  anfvver  feme  important  end  in  the 
 extenfive  fcherae  of  the  beneficent  Creator.  It  is  there- 
 fore evidently  the  intereft,  the  wifdom,  and  the  perfec- 
 tion of  every  rational  creature  to  look  to  it,  that  he  per- 
 form properly  the  duty  of  his  appointed  ftation  ;  and  in 
 that  he  will  in  the  end  find  his  glory  and  his  happi- 
 nefs. 
 
 To  give  a  brief  view  of  what  is  principally  neceffary 
 to  the  dignity  of  human  nature,  it  feems  mofi:  methodical 
 to  addreis  the  following  diredions  chiefly  to  thofe  rea- 
 ders, who  have  not  yet  gone  far  in  life,  but  are  at  the 
 fame  time  arrived  at  an  age  capable  of  improving  by 
 proper  helps,  and  a  due  attention  to  their  own  intcrcfi, 
 when  faithfully  pointed  out  to  them.  Proceeding,  from 
 the  firft  fetting  out  in  manly  life,  to  the  fubjeds  of  mar- 
 riage and  education  of  children,  and  to  the  conducSi;  of 
 more  advanced  age;  all  the  llages  of  life  may  be  taken 
 in,  and  the  true  dignity  of  each  pointed  out. 
 
 That  in  the  following  effay  there  will  of  courfe  bs 
 wanting  a  number  of  particulars,  mere  or  lefs  conducive 
 to  the  dignity  of  our  nature,  is  no  more  than  may  be 
 expecled  in  a  defign  fo  extenfive.  If  it  be  found,  that 
 whoever  conforms  to  thefe  dircdions,  and  frames  his 
 charader  according  to  the  following  plan,  will  have  at- 
 tained the  moft  confiderable  part  of  the  perfedion  of 
 human  life  ;  it  will  be  acknowledged  by  the  candid  and 
 ingenuous,  that  the  throwing  together  into  one  view, 
 fuch  a  number  of  particulars  of  principal  importance, 
 was  attempting  a  fervice  ufeful  to  the  public. 
 
 As  young  people  have  a  profped  (though  a  precarious 
 one)  of  living  to  old  age,  it  is  of  confequence,  that  they 
 be  early  put  upon  fuch  courfes,  as  will  be  likely  to  ren- 
 der their  paiTage  through  life,  whether  longer  or  fiiorter, 
 eafy  and  comfortable.  A  perfon's  fetting  out  with  pro- 
 per dignity,  is  of  great  importance  toward  his  future 
 profperity  ;  as,  on  the  contrary,  one  falfe  fiep  at  the  firft 
 entrance  into  life  may  prove  irretrievable.  Mankind 
 fix  their  attention  upon  the  behaviour  of  a  perfon  juft 
 fetting  out,  and  according  to  the  prudence,  or  want  of 
 judgment,  they  obferve  in  the  firll  fiens  he  takes,  pro- 
 
 B  2  nounce 
 
4  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I. 
 
 nouiice  (too  precipitately  indeed)  upon  the  whole  of  his- 
 future  condiid.  Men,  in  adive  ftations  efpecially, 
 ought  to  confider,  that,  at  their  firft  entrance  into  life^ 
 they  will  have  the  ill-will  and  envy  of  many  rivals  and 
 competitors  to  encounter  ;  and  ought  to  remetaber,  that 
 it  will  require  no  ordinary  degree  of  fagacity  to  defeat 
 the  defigns  of  thofe,  who  think  themfclve^k  interefted  to 
 make  a  bad  ufe  of  every  mifcarriage. 
 
 To  this  end  there  is  nothing  fo  indifpenfably  necef- 
 fary  as  prudence,  or  a  turn  of  mind,  which  puts  a  per- 
 foh  upon  looking  forward,  and  enables  him  to  judge 
 rightly  of  the  confequences  of  his  behaviour;  fo  as  to 
 avoid  the  misfortunes  into  which  raflmefs  precipitates 
 many,  and  to  gain  the  ends  which  a  wife  and  virtuous 
 man  ought  to  purfue. 
 
 It  is  evident  to  the  meaneft  underftanding,  that  there 
 is  a  fitnefs  or  unlitnefs,  a  fuitablenefs  or  unfuitablenefs 
 6f  things  to  one  another,  which  is  not  to  be  changed, 
 without  fome  change  prefuppofed  in  the  things,  or  their 
 circLunftances.  Prudence  is  the  knowledge  and  obfer- 
 vance  of  this  propriety  of  behaviour  to  times  and  cir- 
 curaftances,  and  probable  confequences,  according  to 
 their  feveral  varieties. 
 
 A  turn  to  prudence  is,  like  all  the  other  endowments 
 of  the  mind,  a  natural  gift,  bellowed  more  or  lefs  li- 
 berally upon  different  perfons.  Some  give  promifes  of 
 fagacity  and  coolnefs  of  judgment  almoft  from  their  in- 
 fancy ;  and  others  never  arrive  at  the  mature  exercife 
 of  forelight  or  reflexion,  but,  in  fpite  of  the  experience 
 of  many  years,  feem  children  to  the  laft.  At  the  fame 
 time,  this  faculty  is  capable  of  great  improvements  in 
 almoft  the  weakeft  heads ;  could  they  but  be  brought 
 to  beftow  a  little  thought  and  attention,  and  to  lillen  to 
 reafon,  more  than  to  paffion. 
 
 Imprudent  condud;  may  be  ov^ing  to  a  perfon's  want 
 of  opportunity  for  knowing  the  propriety  of  behaviour, 
 which  is  the  cafe  of  young  and  unexperienced  perfons, 
 who  have  not  been  long  enough  in  the  world  to  know 
 it ;  and  of  ruflics,  academics,  and  reclufes,  who,  though 
 they  have  lived  long  enough,  have  not  lived  among 
 mankind,  fo  aj;  to  acquire  a  due  knowledge  of  them. 
 
 Ijnprudence 
 
■Of  Prudence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  5 
 
 Imprudence  is  alfo  often  owing  to  fome  unhappy  turn 
 of  mind,  which  gives  a  caft  to  people's  behaviour  con- 
 trary to  their  better  knowledge.  Of  this  kind  are  falte 
 modefty,  indolence,  and  propenfities  to  particular  fol- 
 lies and  vices. 
 
 Raflinefs  is  a  great  enemy  to  prudence.  The  natural 
 ■vivacity  and  warmth  of  youth,  and  of  people  of  fanguine 
 tempers,  makes  this  folly  very  conlpicuous  in  them.  It 
 is  remarkable,  that  in  mod  points  of  decorum,  the  female 
 fex  have  the  advantage  of  us.  This  cannot  be  owing 
 either  to  any  difference  in  natural  abilities,  or  to  greater 
 experience,  or  knowledge  of  the  world ;  but  to  the  na- 
 tural timidity  of  their  tempers,  joined  with  the  delicacy 
 jf  their  education^  which  prevents  their  behaving  in 
 the  forward  and  precipitate  manner  we  often  do,  to  the 
 difparagement  of  our  prudence,  and  the  difappcintment 
 of  our  defigns.  The  prejudices  cccaiioned  by  evil  ha- 
 bits, and  by  pride  and  paffion,  contribute  greatly  to  the 
 blinding  of  human  reafon,  and  mifleading  men  into  im- 
 prudent condud:.  Of  which  in  their  refpedive  places. 
 To  give  one's  felf  up  to  be  led  by  popular  prejudice,  is 
 as  likely  a  way  to  be  milled  as  any  I  know.  The  mul- 
 titude judge  almofl:  conilantly  wrong  on  allfubjedts  that 
 lie  in  the  leaft  cut  of  the  common  way.  They  follow  one 
 another,  like  a  flock  of  (heep ;  and  not  only  go  wrong 
 themfelves,  but  make  thofe,  who  are  wifer,  afhamed  to 
 go  right.  And  yet  it  is  not  prudent  to  be  lingular  in 
 .  matters  of  inferior  confequence. 
 
 That  a  genius  inferior  only  to  a  Shake/pear  cr  a  Mil- 
 ton, fliould  not  be  able  to  keep  a  coat  to  his  back,  to 
 fave  himfelf  from  ftgrving  amidd  his  poetic  fire,  at  the 
 fame  time  that  an  honcft  citizen,  v^^hofe  utmofc  reach 
 of  thought  only  enables  him  to  fix  a  reafong.ble  profit 
 upon  a  piece  of  linen  or  filk,  according  to  its  firil  cod 
 and  charges,  fhould  from  nothing  raife  himfelf  to  a 
 coach  and  fix  ;  to  account  for  what  in  theory  feems  fo 
 ilrange,  it  is  to  be  confidered,  of  what  confequence  it 
 is  toward  a  proper  behaviour,  that  a  perfon  apply  a 
 due  attention  to  all  the  minute  circumflances  and  feem- 
 ingly  inconliderabic  particulars,  in  the  condudl  of  life 
 Let  a  man  have  what  fublime  abilities  he  will,  if  he  i' 
 
 B  3  abav 
 
6  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I, 
 
 above  applying  his  underftanding  to  find  out,  and  his 
 attention  to  purfae  any  fcheme  ot'  life,  it  is  as  little  to 
 be  expecled,  that  he  (hould  acquire  the  fortune  of  the 
 thriving  citizen,  as  that  the  plain  fliopkeeper,  who  ne- 
 ver applied  his  mind  to  learning,  fhould  equal  him  in 
 fcience.  There  is  no  natural  incompatibility  between 
 wit,  or  learning,  and  prudence.  Nor  is  the  man  of 
 learning  or  genius,  who  is  void  of  common  prudence, 
 to  be  confidered  in  any  other  character,  than  that  of  a 
 wrong-headed  pedant,  or  of  a  man  of  narrow  and  de- 
 fedive  abilities. 
 
 PART     I. 
 
 (y  Prudence  in  Conversation, 
 
 SECT.     I. 
 
 Of  treating  the  Characters  of  abfent  Ferfons. 
 
 PRUDENCE  may,  in  general,  be  divided  into  two 
 parts :    Firft,    that    which    regards    converfation. 
 And,  fecondly,  that  which  ferves  to  regulate  action. 
 ^  As  to  our  words,  we  are  to  confider,   firft,   wiiether 
 
 what  we  are  going  to  fay  had  better  be  fpoke,  or  kept  in. 
 And  the  only  time  for  confidering  this  is,  before  we 
 fpeak  :  for  it  may  be  too  late  afterwards.  Whatever 
 may  prove  to  the  difadvantage  of  the  fpeaker,  the 
 hearei'^,  or  of  any  abfent  perfon,  is  in  prudence  care- 
 fully to  be  fuppreffed.  Of  the  firft  fort,  is  whatever  may 
 prejudice  the  fpeaker,  as  by  espofing  him  to  profecu- 
 tion,  by  difcovering  his  fecrets,  or  by  getting  him  ill- 
 will.  Of  the  fecond,  is  v^^liatever  may  tend  to  debauch 
 the  virtue  of  the  hearers,  or,  by  affronting,  work  them 
 up  to  anger  and  mifbehaviour.  And  of  the  third,  what- 
 ever tends  to  derogate  from  the  charader  of  any  abfent 
 perfon.     To  treat  of  thefe  Vv'ithout  regard  to  order; 
 
 There  is  no  imprudence  more  common  or  univerfal, 
 than  thiU  of  detrad^ion.     I  fpeak  of  it  at  prefent  only  as 
 
 an 
 
CifPriiHe?^e.)  HUMAN  NATUR'E.  7 
 
 an  imprudence,  referving  the  immorality  of  that  prac- 
 tice to  another  occafion.  And  what  can  be  more  im- 
 prudent, than  upon  the  mention  of  an  abfent  perfon, 
 with  whom  1  am  no  way  concerned,  to  break  out  into 
 invedives  and  feveritie?,  which  may  bring  me  into  dis- 
 putes and  trouble,  but  can  anfwer  no  good  end  ? 
 
 Did  men  but  confider  what  opinion  the  judicious 
 form  of  thofe  they  fee  delight  in  detraction,  they  would, 
 for  their  own  fakes,  avoid  a  practice  which  expofes  thcni 
 to  the  contempt  of  all  humane  and  confiderate  people. 
 He  who  takes  pleafure  in  fpeaking  to  the  difad vantage 
 of  others,  muft  appear  to  ail  wife  men  either  in  the  light 
 of  an  envious  perfon,  wiio  can  brook  nothing  eminent 
 in  another ;  of  one  whole  mean  abilities  and  improve- 
 ments will  furniih  no  better  entertainment  for  thofe  he 
 converfes  with,  than  difadvantageous  reprefentations  cf 
 others  ;  or  of  one  who  partakes  cf  the  temper  of  an  evil 
 fpirir,  and  delights  in  mifchief  for  mifchiePs  fake.  And 
 no  man  can  think  it  will  tend  to  the  forwarding  of  his 
 intereft  among  his  neighbours,  to  procure  himfelf  any 
 of  thefe  charadlers. 
 
 The  mifchiefs  a  perfon  may  bring  upon  himfelf,  by 
 evil-fpeaking,  either  by  expofing  himfelf  to  legal  pe- 
 nalties, ot  to  private  refentment,  and  general  hatred, 
 are  fo  great,  that  prudence  will  diredt  to  fpeak  of  every 
 man,  as  one  vvould  do,  if  he  knew  the  perfon,  whole 
 charader  is  mentioned,  was  in  the  next  room,  over- 
 liearing  all  that  palled.  For  one  can  never  be  fure  that 
 he  fhali  not  be  called  upon  to  fay  the  fame  things  be- 
 fore the  perfon's  face,  which  he  has  taken  the  liberty 
 of  faying  behind  his  back.  And  who  would  be  put  to 
 the.trouble  of  proving,  or  to  the  confafion  of  recanting 
 his  words  ? 
 
 Nor  is  it  enough  that  what  we  fay  to  an  abfent  per- 
 fon's difadvantage,  be  but  trifling,  or  of  no  great  confe- 
 quence  in  itfelf ;  lince  what  is  faid  in  converfation  lies 
 wholly  at  the  mercy  of  the  hearers,  to  reprefent  it  as 
 ihey  pleafe  ;  and  the  mere  repetition  of  v.-hat  has  been 
 faid  without  thought  or  delign,  makes  it  appear  of  con- 
 fequence.  It  is  evident  therefore,  that  in  touching  upon 
 what  is  fo  extremely  delicate,  as  the  charaders  of  other*, 
 
 B  4  there 
 
8  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Bookl, 
 
 there  is  no  fafe  method,  but  taking  the  good-natured 
 fide  (where  any  thing  can  be  faid  in  vindication),  or, 
 if  the  charader  fpoke  of  is  wholly  indefenfible,  total 
 iilence  ;  neither  of  which  is  liable  to  mifconllrudlion. 
 
 As  to  putting  the  eafy  and  credulous  upon  their  guard 
 againft  the  artful  and  defigning,  the  ufaal  pretence  for 
 obloquy  ;  it  may  be  done,  without  hazard,  and  without 
 injuftice,  by  anonymous  letters  in  a  difguifcd  hand,  to 
 the  perfons  we  think  in  danger  of  being  impofed  upon, 
 or  in  any  other  prudent  way  ;  taking  care  ftill  to  treat 
 the  charader  of  others,  with  the  fame  tendernefs  as 
 one  would  wifh  his  own  to  meet  with. 
 
 It  w  ill  ever  be  the  wifdom  of  every  perfon,  not  only 
 to  avoid  the  odious  practice  of  evil-fpeaking  ;  but  to 
 make  a  refolution  to  have  no  concern  Vvith  thofe  who 
 are  given  to  it.  If  I  find  a  perfon  takes  a  pleafure  in 
 mifreprefenting  others  to  me,  I  ought  to  conclude,  he 
 will  ufc  my  character  in  the  fame  manner,  in  the  next 
 company  he  goes  into. 
 
 SECT.    II. 
 
 Of  veiitlag  fiiigular  Opinions.  Of  Modejly  in  Dlfputing, 
 Of  being  fatirical  upon  the  Infirmities  of  others.  Of 
 Rallyingy  and  receiving  Raillery, 
 
 WISE  man  will  ever  be  cautious  of  venting  An- 
 gular opinions  in  fcience,  in  politics,  and,  above 
 all,  in  religion,  where  he  does  not  perfectly  know  his 
 company.  He  will  confider,  that  he  has  ten  chances 
 for  ftartling  or  difpleafing  his  hearers,  for  one  of  in- 
 forming or  fetting  them  right,  in  a  iingle  converfation ; 
 the  bulk  of  mankind  being  much  too  fond  of  their  own 
 opinions  and  prejudices,  to  defire  to  come  at  truth  with 
 the  hazard  of  being  obliged  to  give  up  their  beloved 
 maxims. 
 
 A  man  of  prudence  is  alwsys  modeft  in  delivering 
 his  fentiments,  even  where  he  is  abfolutely  certain  that 
 he  is  in  the  right,  and  that  his  opponent  is  totally  ig- 
 norant of  the  fubje<51:  in  difpute.  For  he  confiders, 
 that  it  is  happinefs  cnoiigh  toknow  hiinfelf  to  be  in  the 
 
 rj,a:ht 
 
Of  Prudence.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  9 
 
 right,  and  that  he  is  not  obliged  to  battle  the  narrovv- 
 jiefs  and  perverfenefs  of  mankind. 
 
 It  is  likewife  proper  to  remember,  that,  in  a  difpute, 
 the  by-ftanders  generally  take  it  for  granted,  that  he 
 who  keeps  his  temper  is  in  the  right,  and  that  what 
 puts  the  other  out  of  humour,  is  his  finding  hiinfelf  in 
 danger  of  being  vvorfted. 
 
 A  prudent  perfon  will  carefully  avoid  touching  upon 
 the  natural  infirmity,  whether  of  body  or  mind,  ofthofe 
 he  is  in  company  with.  The  expofing  a  perfon's  imper- 
 fections to  the  obfervation  of  others,  can  anfwer  no  end, 
 but  irritating.  We  find  it  hard  enough  to  prevail  with 
 mankind  to  look  into  their  deficiencies  themfelves  ;  but 
 to  fet  a  whole  company  a-gazing  at  them,  is  what  they 
 will  never  bear  at  our  hands.  When  there  is  a  friendiv 
 hint  to  be  given,  for  corredling  fome  failing,  if  it  be 
 done  in  private,  or  by  an  anonymous  letter,  it  may 
 anfwer  the  end  ;  whereas  the  rude  expofing  of  a  per- 
 fon's weaknefs,  makes  him  think  himfelf  obliged  in 
 honour  to  defend,  and  confequently  to  hold  fait,  his 
 error. 
 
 A  wife  man  will  defpife  the  conceited  pleafure  fomc 
 Jiot-headed  people  take  in  what  they  call,  fpcakinp; 
 their  minds,  that  is,  in  expreffing  their  diflike  of  thofe 
 they  fall  into  company  with,  in  a  blunt  and  rude  man- 
 ner, without  the  leall  neceffity  or  profped:  of  advan- 
 tage, and  with  the  certainty  of  affronting  and  difobliging. 
 For  he  will  confider,  that  tho'  he  may  chance  not  to 
 like  the  make  of  every  face  he  meets  in  the  Iircct,  or 
 the  humour  of  every  perfon  he  falls  in  company  Wifh, 
 he  cannot  expecl  either  the  one  or  the  other  fiiould  be 
 •altered  immediately  upon  his  expreffing  his  diiTatisfac- 
 tion,  and  may  expeft  to  have  his  rude  remarks  retali- 
 ated upon  him  with  intereft.  As  nothing  is  more  pro- 
 voking to  fome  tempers  than  raillery,  a  prudent  perfon 
 will  not  always  be  fatirically  witty  where  he  can  ;  but 
 only  where  he  may  without  offence.  For  he  will  con- 
 fider, that  the  fineft  flroke  of  raillery  is  but  a  witticiftn; 
 and  that  there  is  hardly  any  perfon  fo  mean,  whofe 
 good-will  is  not  preferable  to  the  pkafu  re  of  a  horfe-laugh. 
 
 If 
 
*3  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I. 
 
 If  you  fhould  by  raillery  make  another  ridiculous 
 (which  is  more  than  you  can  promife  upon),  remember, 
 that  the  judicious  part  of  the  company  will  not  think 
 the  better  of  you  for  your  having  a  knack  at  drollery,  or 
 ribaldry. 
 
 Before  you  fet  up  for  a  fatirical  wit,  be  fure  thar 
 you  are  properly  furnifhed.  If  you  be  found  to  be  a 
 bad  archer,  they  will  fet  you  up  for  a  butr. 
 
 In  the  cafe  of  one's  being  expofed  to  the  mirth  of  a 
 company  for  fomething  faid  or  done  fillily,  the  mod 
 efft'd:ual  way  of  turning  the  edge  of  their  ridicule,  is 
 by  joining  in  the  laugh  againll  one's  felf,  and  expofing 
 and  aggravating  his  own  folly  :  for  this  will  fhew,  that 
 be  has  the  uncommon  underllanding  to  fee  his  own 
 jault. 
 
 SECT.    III. 
 
 Of  Secrecy.      Of  the  Choice  of  Company,  and  of  intmatc;. 
 Friends.     Of  Vifiting  where  there  is  no  Friendjfnp, 
 Of  the  Company  of   Ladies.     Of  Story-telling,     Of 
 Boajling,  a7id  Lying. 
 
 S  to  his  own  private  affairs,  a  prudent  perfon  will 
 conlider,  that  his  fecrets  will  always  be  fafcr  in 
 his  own  breall,  than  in  that  of  the  beft  and  difcreeteft 
 friend  he  has  in  the  world.  He  will  therefore  be  very 
 cautious  of  imparling  them  ;  and  will  never  let  any  one 
 into  the  knowledge  of  them,  but  for  the  fake  of  profiting 
 by  his  advice,  or  for  fome  other  ufeful  end.  There  is 
 not  indeed  a  perfon  among  many  hundreds,-to  whom  a 
 fecret  is  not  an  infupportable  burden.  And  the  bulk  of 
 people  are  fo  extremely  curious,  that  they  will  fall  upon 
 a  thoufand  ftratagems  to  make  the  perfon,  who  they 
 imagine  is  polTelied  of  a  fecret,  believe,  that  they 
 know  moft  of  it  already,  in  order  to  draw  him  on  to 
 difcover  the  whole  ;  in  which  they  often  fucceed. 
 
 A  prudent  perfon  will  always  avoid  diving  into  the 
 fecrets  of  others;  for  he  will  conlider,  that  whoever  is 
 weak  enough  to  blab  his  private  affairs  to  him,  is 
 like  to  put  the  fame  copfidence  in  others;  the  confe*- 
 fjuence  of  which  may  be,  that  he  may  come  to  be 
 
 blame4 
 
Of  Prudence.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  ii 
 
 blamed  for  what  was  difcovered  by  the  indifcretion  of 
 another,  though  rehgioufly  concealed  by  himfelf. 
 
 If  you  cannot  keep  your  own  fecrets,  how  do  you 
 think  other  people  fliould?  If  you  have  fuch  an  opinion 
 of  a  perfon,  as  to  think  he  will  be  faithful  to  you, 
 he  has  the  like  of  another,  and  he  again  of  another, 
 and  fo  your  fecrct  goes  round.  You  ought  likewife  to 
 confider,  that  befidcs  the  chance  of  Uiifaithfalnefs  in  him 
 to  whom  you  truit  a  fecret,  or  of  a  difference  ariiing 
 between  you,  the  mere  circuraftance  of  his  happening 
 fome  time  or  other  to  forget  himfelf,  may  be  the  occalioii 
 of  his  difcovering  and  undoing  you. 
 
 As  to  the  choice  of  friends  or  companions,  the  num- 
 ber of  which  ought  to  be  fmall,  and  the  choice  dclicatt*, 
 one  general  rule  may  be  laid  down,  viz.  That  a  man, 
 who  has  neither  knowledge  nor  virtue,  is  by  no  means 
 a  fit  companion,  let  him  have  what  other  accomplifli- 
 rnents  he  will.  No  advantage  one  can  propofe  fron\ 
 keeping  the  company  of  an  ignorant  or  a  vvicked  man, 
 can  make  up  for  the  nuifance  and  difguft  his  folly  vviii. 
 give  ;  much  lefs  for  the  danger  of  having  one's  manners 
 corrupted,  and  his  mind  debauched.  Nothing  can  give 
 a  higher  delight,  than  the  converfation  of  a  man  of 
 knowledge.  There  is  in  a  mind,  improved  by  ftudy,  con- 
 verfation, and  travel,  a  kind  of  inexhau'lible  fund  of 
 entertainment,  from  which  one  may  draw  fupplies  for 
 many  years'  enjoyment,  and  at  every  converfation  receive 
 fome  new  piece  of  information  and  improvement.  0;i 
 the  contrary,  the  company  of  an  ignorant  perfon  mull 
 foon  grow  tirefome  and  infipid.  For  one  vvilf  fooa 
 have  heard  all  the  tolerable  things  he  can  lay  ;  and 
 then  there  is  an  end  of  improvement  and  entertainment 
 both  at  once. 
 
 As  for  your  baifoon^,  who  are  the  delight  of  faper- 
 ficial  people,  and  the  fiddles  of  companies,  they  are,  ge- 
 nerally fpeaking,  the  molt  defpicablc  people  one  can  con- 
 verfe  with.  Their  being  carclfed  by  the  thoughtlefs  part 
 of  mankind,  on  account  of  their  pleafantry,  gives  their 
 manners  fuch  a  tincture  of  levity  and  foolery,  that  very 
 few  of  them  are  good  for  any  thing,  but  to  laugh  at. 
 And  as  a  very  extenlivc  vein  of  wit  is  a  great  rarity, 
 
 you 
 
ffi2  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I, 
 
 you  will  generally  find  the  drolls,  you  meet  in  company, 
 have  a  fet  of  conceits. which  they  play  off  at  all  times, 
 like  dancing  dogs,  or  monkeys  ;  and  that  what  chiefly 
 diverts,  is  rather  fome  ^dd  cad  of  countenance,  or  un- 
 common command  of  features,  than  any  thing  of  real 
 wit,   that  will  bear  repeating. 
 
 Th€  only  pxoper  perfons,  therefore,  to  choofe  for  inti- 
 mate friends,  are  men  of  a  ferious  turn;  for  fuch  are 
 generally  prudent,  and  fit  to  confult  with;  and  of 
 eltabliQied  charaders  ;  for  fuch,  having  foraewhat  to 
 lofe,  will  be  cautious  of  their  behaviour.  To  which 
 add  another  qualification,  indifpenfably  necelTary  in  g, 
 friend,  with  whom  one  would  expedt  to  live  agreeably, 
 1  mean,  a  good  natural  temper.  Nothing  more  forcibly 
 warms  the  mind  to  a  love  of  goodnefs,  or  raifes  it  more 
 powerfully  to  all  that  is  truly  great  and  worthy,  than 
 the  converfation  of  wife  and  virtuous  men.  There  is  a 
 force  in  what  is  laid  viva  voce,  which  nothing  in  waiting 
 can  come  up  to,  A  grave  remonflrance,  mixed  with 
 humanity  and  corapaffion,  will  often  awaken  thought 
 nnd  reflection  in  a  mind,  which  has  fl;ood  proof  againft 
 the  fineft  moral  lefibns  in  books.  And  the  approbation 
 of  a  friend,  whofe  judgment  and  flncerity  one  efteems, 
 will  encourage  one  to  go  lengths  in  every  commendable 
 difpofltion  and  practice,  which  he  could  not  have 
 thought  himfelf  capable  of  As,  on  the  contrary,  a  lit- 
 tle fmart  raillery,  or  a  fmooth  flow  of  words,  put  toge- 
 ther with  an  appearance  of  reafon,  and  delivered  with 
 an  cafy  and  afllired  air,  may  v.ery  quickly  ihake  the  vir- 
 tue, or  unhinge  the  principles,  of  a  young  perfon,  who 
 has  neither  had  time  nor  opportunities  fur  eftablilhing 
 himfelf  fufliciently. 
 
 I  do  not  mean,  that  young  perfons  are  to  take  upon 
 trufl:  all  that  is  told  them  by  pious  people  (fome  of 
 whom  may  be  very  weak  and  bigoted),  without  exa- 
 mining into  the  grounds  and  evidences  of  what  they 
 have  taught  them,  and  without  allowing  themfelves  an 
 opportunity  of  hearing  both  fides  of  the  queflion.  This 
 is  more  than  religion  requires  ;  nay,  it  is  diredtly  con- 
 trary to  what  it  requires:  foritdireds  men  to  ufe  their  own 
 reafon,  and  not  to  take  any  thing  of  impoilance  upon 
 
 truft. 
 
Of  Prudence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  13 
 
 truft.  Nor  can  any  thing  be  more  unfafe  than  to  truft 
 that  to  another,  which  I  ought  to  make  fure  of  for  my- 
 felf ;  which  is  my  own  concern  infinitely  more  than 
 any  one's  elfe,  and  where  I  alone  muft  Hand  to  the 
 damage.  My  meaning,  I  fay,  is  not  to  difcouragc 
 young  people  from  hearing  all  fides,  and  converfing 
 among  people  of  different  ways  of  thinking  ;  but  to 
 guard  them  againft  the  crafty,  and  the  vitiou?,  from 
 whofe  converfation  they  will  be  fure  to  gain  nothing^, 
 and  may  lofe  dreadfully. 
 
 As  the  flighted  touch  will  defile  a  clean  garment^ 
 which  is  not  to  be  cleaned  again  without  a  great  deal 
 of  trouble,  fo  the  converfation  of  the  wicked  and  de- 
 bauched will,  in  a  very  fhort  time,  defile  the  mind  of 
 an  innocent  perfon,  in  a  manner  that  will  give  him  great 
 '  trouble  to  recover  his  former  purity.  You  may  there- 
 fore more  fafely  venture  into  company  with  a  perfon 
 infeded  with  the  plague,  than  with  a  vitiouS  man  :  for 
 the  worfl:  confequence  0^  the  firft  is  death  ;  but  of  the 
 laft,  the  hazard  of  a  worfe  dedrudion.  For  vitious 
 people  generally  have  a  peculiar  ambition  to  draw  in 
 the  innocent  to  their  party  ;  and  many  of  them  are 
 furnifhed  with  artifices  and  allurements  but  too  efFeclual 
 for  infnaring. 
 
 It  is  the  advice  of  a  great  man  to  his  fon,  To  keep 
 the  company  of  his  fiiperiors,  rather  than  his  inferiors. 
 This  diredion  is  to  be  followed  with  difcretion.  As  on 
 one  hand,  for  a  gentleman  to  aflbciate  conftantly  with 
 mechanics,  muft  prove  the  mofl:  effecluai  means  of  fink- 
 ing him  to  the  level  of  their  manners  and  converfation  ; 
 fo  on  the  other,  for  a  young  perfon,  who  is  born  to  no 
 great  fortune,  and  mull  refolve  to  make 'his  way  in  life 
 by  his  own  induftry,  to  afFedl  the  company  of  the  nobi- 
 lity and  gentry,  is  the  way  to  have  his  mind  tindured 
 with  the  fame  love  of  idlenefs  and  expencc,  which  even 
 in  people  of  fortune  is  highly  blamable ;  but  in  thofe, 
 who  have  no  fuch  profpecls  in  life,  is  certain  ruin.  Tiie 
 fuppofed  advantage  arifing  from  the  friendfliip  of  the 
 ^reat,  is  of  very  little  confequence.  The  furelt  way  to 
 ingratiate  one's  felf  with  the  bulk  of  them  is,  to  ferve 
 their  phiifures,  or  their  ambitious  vi^ws :  A  price  infi- 
 nitely 
 
i4  THE  DIGNITY  Of  (Bo6k  !a 
 
 nitely  too  great  for  all  that  their  favour  can  procurci 
 It  may  therefore,  I  think,  be  concluded,  that  the  pro- 
 perell  companions  for  every  man-,  are  thofe  of  his  own 
 rank  in  life. 
 
 it  hcis  been  the  misfortune  of  many  in  friendfhip,  as 
 in  love,  to  form  to  themfelves  fuch  romantic  notions  of 
 I  knov/  not  what  fublimities  as  will  not  anfwer  in  real 
 life,  and  to  make  themfelves  miferable  upon  meeting 
 with  difappointments.  Whoever  thinks  to  find  an  ob- 
 jedf  of  love  or  frienddiip,  in  whom,  after  long  acquaint- 
 ance and  familiarity,  nothing  faulty  or  defedive,  fhall 
 appear,  mod  go  among  fuperior  orders  of  beings  in 
 fearch  of  what  he  wants  :  human  nature  will  furnifn  no 
 fuch  chraaders.  He  who  has  found  a  friend,  capable 
 of  keeping  a  fecret,  of  giving  a  fincere  and  judicious 
 advice,  of  entertaining  and  inftruding  by  his  converfa- 
 tion,  and  ready  to  fnew  his  affection  by  adions  as  well 
 as  words  ;  he  who  has  found  fuch  a  friend,  and  drops 
 him  for  any  weaknefs  not  inconfiiient  with  thefe  quali- 
 ties, fhews  himfelf  unworthy  of  fuch  an  ineftimable 
 ireafure. 
 
 As  a  temper  too  referved  and  fufpicious,  forbidding 
 the  approach  of  a  ftranger,  is  an  indication  of  a  crafty 
 difpofition,  or  at  leaft  of  a  tim.orous  and  narrow  mind  5 
 fo  ihrov/ing  open  one's  arms  to  every  forward  intruder, 
 is  a  proof  of  egregious  want  of  prudence  and  knowledge 
 of  the  world.  Thofe  pert  and  infinuating  people,  who 
 become,  all  of  a  fudden,  and  u  ithout  any  reafon,  the 
 moft  zealous  and  fanguine  friends,  are  ever  to  be  fuf- 
 peded  of  feme  indired  defign.  The  wifdora  of  beha- 
 viour therefore  is,  to  communicate  your  knowledge  to 
 all,  who  feem  willing  to  receive  it  j  your  private  affairs 
 only  to  perfons  of  approved  fecrecy  and  judgment,  and 
 to  them  no  more  than  is  abfolutely  neceilary  ;  to  have 
 many  acquaintance,  but  few  intimates  ;  to  open  your 
 countenance  to  all,  your  heart  to  very  few. 
 
 Never  think  of  friendfhip  with  a  covetous  man  :  He 
 loves  his  money  better  than  his  friend.  Nor  with  a  man 
 of  pleafure :  He  has  not  gravity  enough  to  render  his 
 converfation  improving.  Nor  with  a  wicked  man  :  He 
 will  corrupt  you.     Nor  v.'ith  a  filly  fellow  :  His  empti- 
 
 nefs 
 
OfPmdence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  15 
 
 nefs  will  difguft  you.  Nor  with  a  drunkard  :  He  will 
 betray  your  fecrets.  A  paffionate  fellow  will  affront 
 you.  A  conceited  man  will  expeft  you  to  fubmit  to 
 him  in  every  thing.  A  mean-fpirited  creature  will  dif- 
 grace  you.  A  bully  will  draw  you  into  his  quarrels, 
 A  fpendthrift  will  borrow  .your  money.  A  very  poor 
 fellow  will  make  your  life  unhappy.  A  man  of  over- 
 grown fortune  will  draw  you  into  his  expenfive  way  of 
 living. 
 
 There  is  no  folly  more  common  among  young  people 
 than  that  of  puffing,  or  boafting;  at  which  fome  ars 
 extremely  awkward,  putting  their  accounts  of  their 
 pretended  feats  together  in  a  manner  fo  inconfiftent  and 
 contradidory,  that  their  hearers  neverfailto  detect  theia 
 for  mere  fictions. 
 
 Some  will  be  ever  afcribing  to  themfelves  witty  fay- 
 jngs,  which  they  have  heard  in  company,  or  perhaps 
 read  in  books.  Some  will  pretend  to  have  performed 
 things,  which  if  they  be  challenged  to  do  again,  they 
 are  obliged  to  own  they  cannot.  Many,  who  have 
 never  had  opportunity  or  capacity  for  ftudy,  endeavour 
 to  perfuade  thofe  that  converfe  with  them,  that  they 
 have  gone  through  the  whole  circle  of  the  fcience?, 
 and  will  pretend  to  have  read  every  book  you  can  name. 
 Others  will  be  fiunning  all  companies  with  the  great 
 acquaintance  they  have,  and  talking  of  intimacies  with 
 eminent  perfons,  whom  perhaps  in  truth  they  hardly 
 know  by  light.  And  others  are  guilty  of  this  vice  to  a 
 degree  ftill  incomparably  more  wicked,  I  mean,  thofe 
 who  delight  in  blafting  the  characters  of  ladies,  whofe 
 favours  they  boait,  when  they  have  never  been  fo  much 
 ■as  in  their  company.  This-infiimous  practice  has  coll 
 fome  of  thcTe^vain  and  wicked  boafters,  all  they  were 
 worth. 
 
 The  mofl  effectual  means  I  know,  for  avoiding  or 
 getting  rid  of  this  fooliHi  habit  of  boafting,  is,  To 
 accuftom  one's  felf  to  fpeak  as  little  as  pofiible  in  the 
 firft  perfon.  The  figure  Egotifm  is  one  of  the  moil 
 ungraceful  that  can  enter  into  any  man's  converfatiou 
 or  writings,  though  it  is  to  be  met  with  in  fome  of  llie 
 moft  eminent  both  of  ancient  and  modern  times. 
 
 But 
 
l6  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I. 
 
 But  if  it  gives  a  man  a  difadvantageous  appearance 
 to  be  himfelf  the  hiftorian  of  the  adions  he  has  real/y 
 done,  what  a  contemptible  light  muft  he  appear  in, 
 who,  in  order  to  fet  himfelf  off,  has  recourfe  to  falfe- 
 hood  P  To  what  a  degree  of  bafenefs  muft  that  mind  be 
 .  /  funk,  which  can  defcend  fo  low  as  to  invent  a  lie  ?  We 
 /  fee  a  fenfe  of  honour  upon  this  point,   often  remains  in 
 
 the  mind,  when  every  thing  elfe  that  relilhes  of  virtue 
 is  a-one.  The  town-rake,  who  will  make  no  helitation 
 at  murder  or  adultery,  will  yet  take  the  imputation  of 
 a  lie,  whether  juft  or  unjuft,  for  an  affront  not  to  be 
 expiated,  but  with  blood.  For  he  looks  on  other  crimes 
 as  venial,  or  perhaps  as  a6ls  of  heroifm  ;  but  falfehood 
 is  univerfally  owned  to  imply  in  it  a  peculiar  degree  of 
 mean-fpiritednefs.  Nor  will  any  man  allow  himfelf  ia 
 this  bale  pradicc,  who  conliders  (abftradling  from  the 
 vice)  the  grofs  imprudence  of  expofing  himlelf  to  the 
 iiniverfai  contempt,  which  always  falls  upon  the  cha- 
 rader  of  a  liar,  who  of  courfe  lofes  the  confidence  of 
 mankind,  even  when  he  fpeaks  truth. 
 
 If  one  has  given  any  j all  caufe  of  difobligation,  the 
 proper  part  to  ad,  is,  frankly  to  own  the  offence,  and 
 afk  the  injured  perfon's  pardon ;  and  it  muft  only  be 
 /Hr  from  exceffive  pride  and  obftinacy,  that  one  will  refufe 
 what  is  fo  reafonable.  And  how  much  more  manly  is 
 fuch  behaviour,  than  to  have  recourfe  to  the  bafe  fub- 
 terfuge  of  a  lie,  or  equivocal  evafion? 
 
 I'alfehood  is  indeed  on  all  accounts  inexcufable,  and 
 can  never  proceed  but  from  fome  unworthy  principle, 
 as  cowardice,  malice,  or  a  total  contempt  of  virtue  and 
 honour.  And  the  difficulties  it  runs  one  into,  are  not 
 to  be  numbered.  One  lie  requires  ten  others  to  fup- 
 port  it.  And  the  failure  of  probability  in  one  of  them 
 ruins  all.  The  pains  necelTary  to  patch  up  a  plaufible 
 ftory,  and  the  racking  of  the  memory  to  keep  always 
 to  the  fame  circumftances  in  reprefenting  things,  fo  as 
 to  avoid  contradidlions,  is  unfutferable.  And  after  all 
 it  is  a  thoufand  to  one,  but  the  artifice  is  deteded  ; 
 and  then  the  unhappy  man  is  queftioned  as  much,  when 
 he  is  fincerc,  as  when  he  diifembles ;  fo  that  he  finds 
 4  himfelf 
 
Of  Prudence.)  HUMAk  NATURE.  1 7 
 
 hi  nfelf  at  a  fall  (top.  and  can  neither  gain  his  etids  with 
 mankind  by  truth  nor  falfehood; 
 
 As  it  is  common  and  natural  for  young  gentlemen  to 
 court  the  coinpany  of  the  ladies,  it  is  proper  to  give 
 thera  fome  diredions  upon  that  fubject- 
 
 It  is  certain,  that  the  elegancy  of  behaviour,  and 
 that  univerfaily-engaging  accoraplifhment  of  complai- 
 fance,  are  no  where  to  be  learned  but  in  the  converfa- 
 tion  of  that  delicate-part  of  our  fpecies.  And  it  is  like- 
 wife  certain,  that  in  the  company  of  ladies  there  is  lefs 
 to  be  met  with  that  is  likely  either  to  fhock,  or  to  cor- 
 rupt an  innocent  perfon,  than  in  the  converfation  of 
 even  the  tolerably  fober  part  of  our  fex.  But  as  on  the 
 other  hand,  it  mud  be  confelTed,  that  their  being  de- 
 prived of  the  advantages  we  have  for  enlarging  our 
 knowledge,  renders  their  converfation  lefs-improving,  it 
 muft  be  allowed,  that  to  fpend  the  bulk  of  one's  leifure 
 in  their  company  is  not  to  be  juftified  ;  nor  indeed  do 
 they  expeft  it,  but,  on  the  contrary,  heartily  defpife 
 the  effeminate  tribe  of  danglers.  A  prudent  man  will 
 therefore  only  feek  the  converfation  of  the  ladies  occa- 
 lionally  ;  andj  where  he  does,  he  will  not  enter  wholly 
 into  their  manners,  but  will,  by  eafy  and  engaging 
 ways,  endeavour  to  draw  them  into  converfation  that 
 may  be  more  entertaining  to  himfelf,  and  more  im- 
 proving to  thera,  than  the  ufual  chit-chat  of  the  tea-, 
 table.  Nor  is  a  man  in  any  hazard  of  giving  difguft  by 
 this  proceeding,  unlefs  his  manner  of  introducing  fuch 
 fubjeds  have  fomewhat  affedted,  or  gloomy,  or  over-^ 
 bearing.  On  the  contrary,  the  more  fcnfible  part  of 
 the  fex  always  exped:  to  hear  from  ns  fomething  diffe- 
 rent from,  and  fuperior  to  the  fuperficial  ftuff,  of  fa- 
 ihions,  love-afFairSj  and  remarks  on  neighbours;  and 
 entertain  but  contemptible  notions  of  a  man,  who  is 
 furnidied  with  no  better  topics  than  thefc.  There  are 
 many  of  that  fex,  who  have  made  fo  good  ufe  of  the 
 mean  advantages  we  allow  them  for  itnproving  them- 
 felves,  that  their  judgment  will  be  found  preferable  to 
 that  of  many  men,  on  prudentials  and  morals  (fcience 
 they  do  not  pretend  to)  ;  but  thefe  are  \:hietiy  fuch  as 
 have  hud  the  advantage  of  experience  and  cc:n  ciiation. 
 
 G  The 
 
It  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  1 
 
 The  ufual  trafli  of  compliment  and  flattery,  with  which 
 that  contemptible  order  of  mortals,  commonly  called 
 fops,  are  wont  to  entertain  the  ladies,  is  equally  fhame- 
 ful  to  thofe  who  utter,  and  thofe  who  receive  it.  And 
 none  but  the  moft  fuperficial  part  of  the  fax  are  to  be 
 impofed  upon  by  it ;  nor  can  any  thing  fhew  a  man  in 
 a  more  ridiculous  light,  than  to  be  convicted  of  at- 
 tempting to  flatter,  without  fufFicient  addrefs  to  conceal 
 his  deligo.  The  whole  of  it  is  mean  and  difingenuous, 
 and  unworthy  of  the  open  plainnefs  and  fincerity,  fo 
 p-raceful  in  our  Tex.  At  the  fame  time,  as  the  ladies 
 are  but  little  accuftomed  to  hear  the  plain  truth,  much 
 lefs  difagreeable  truths,  a  man  of  prudence  will  avoid 
 eontradiding  or  blaming  them  too  bluntly,  knowing, 
 that  by  fuch  behaviour  there  is  nothing  to  be  got  but 
 their  ill-will.  Toying  or  romping  with  handfome 
 women,  however  diftant  it  may  be  from  any  dired  de- 
 fign  upon  them,  being  yet  unfuitable  to  the  delicacy  of 
 genteel  behaviour,  and  tending  naturally  to  promote  le- 
 vity, if  not  to  excite  irregular  defires  in  young  minds,  is 
 Vvhat  I  would  wilh  wholly  difcouraged. 
 
 As  there  is  no  accomplilhment  more  agreeable  in  a 
 companion,  when  people  want  to  relax,  than  a  knack 
 at  telling  a  ftory  ;  there  is  no  part  of  converfation,  in 
 ■which  men  expofe  themfelves  more  egregiouily.  The 
 entertainment,  and  inftrudionj  which  companies  re- 
 ceive from  a  well-told  ftory,  of  which  hiftory  and  lives 
 furnilh  the  beft  materials,  naturally  make  people  de- 
 lirous  of  being  thought  to  pofTefs  a  talent  fo  agreeable. 
 And  thofe  whom  nature  has  not  fitted  out  with  the  pro- 
 per abilities,  cannot  mifs  to  execute  what  they  under- 
 take in  an  awkward  manner.  The  chief  of  the  errors 
 in  telling  a  ftory,  are  the  following,  viz.  Tedioufnefs 
 in  dwelling  upon  infignificant  circumftances,  which  do 
 Tiut  intereft  the  company.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  cur- 
 tailing too  much,  and  leaving  out  fuch  circumftances  as 
 tend  to  characterize  the  perfons  in  the  ftory,  or  are 
 otherwife  eflential.  Over-running  the  proper  conclu- 
 fion,  or  cataftrophe  of  the  narration.  Over-acling  the 
 humourous  or  lively  parts;  or  drawling  on  the  narra- 
 tion in  an  unanimated  manner. 
 
 The 
 
bf  Prudence.)  HUMAN  NATURE,  ip 
 
 Themoft  witty  and  facetious  companion  in  the  world, 
 may  make  himfelf  as  thoroughly  difagreeable  as  the 
 mod  infipid  mortal  that  can  go  into  company.  Let 
 fuch  a  one  labour  to  be  witty,  and  ftrain  for  fine  things. 
 Let  him  ftun  the  company  with  noife  and  forward  im- 
 pertinence ;  or  let  him  fiiew  a  contempt  for  them  by  a 
 fullen  filence ;  and  he  (liall  be  as  heartily  defpiled  as 
 ever  he  was  admired. 
 
 "  I  do  not  think  it  would  be  eafy  to  invent  a  fillier  cu- 
 flom,  than  that  which  univerfally  prevails  at  prefent, 
 of  viliting  where  there  is  no  real  regard  or  efleem. 
 There  is  no  keeping  up  a  correfpondence  of  this  kind, 
 without  being  guilty  of  infinite  diffimulation.  And  they 
 muft  fet  politenefs  at  a  high  rate  indeed,  who  will  give 
 up  integrity  for  it. 
 
 But  to  confider  this  matter  only  in  a  prudential  light, 
 ■which  is  the  bufinefs  at  prefent,  I  ihould  be  glad  to 
 know  wherein  appears  the  wifdom  of  throwing  away 
 time  (which  one  may  always  apply  in  fome  manner 
 agreeable  to  one's  felf)  upon  people,  whom  one  hear- 
 tily defpifes.  Where  intereft  obliges  people  in  bufinefs 
 to  fiiew  civility  to  their  cuftomers,  or  thofe  they  have 
 connexions  with  in  life,  there  is  fome  pretence  of  ne- 
 ceffity  for  keeping  up  fuch  a  commerce.  But  why  peo" 
 ple  in  high  and  independent  ftations,  fhould  think  it 
 neceffary  to  fpend  fo  many  hours  in  vifits,  to  themfelves 
 infipid  and  difagreeable,  is  to  me  wholly  inconceivable. 
 When  there  are  fo  many  noble  employments,  and  ele- 
 gant amufements,  to  fill  up  the  time  of  people  of  figure, 
 it  grieves  one  to  fee  them  make  themfelves  ufelefs  to 
 their  country,  and  unhappy  in  themfelves,  by  wafting 
 their  hours  in  the  flavery  of  difagreeable  vifits,  and  the 
 endlefs  drudgery  of  the  carJ-tabie.  To  fee  people  of 
 rank  defcend  to  fuch  low  foolery,  as  vifiting  thofe  whom 
 they  hate  or  defpife  ;  denying  themfelves  by  their  fer- 
 vants,  when  they  are  really  at  home,  to  avoid  the  vifits 
 of  thofe  themfelves  have  invited,  making  pretended  vi- 
 fits to  thofe  they  know  to  be  abroad,  and  even  fending 
 their  empty  coaches  to  perform  thofe  mock  ceremonies  ; 
 to  obferve  all  this   hypocritical  farce,   carried  on  by 
 
 C  2  people 
 
-f- 
 
 20  tHE  DIGNITlt  OF  (Book!. 
 
 people  of  high  rank,  how  does  it  degrade  them  in  the 
 eyes  of  their  inferiors! 
 
 SECT.     IV, 
 
 Of  Swearing  and  Obfcenity,  OfCompIaifance.  Of  Over- 
 bearing, Of  PaJJion.  Of  acknowledging  Faults,  Of 
 'Wrangling  in  Converfation.  Of  the  Importance  ofCir- 
 cumjianiials  in  Behaviour. 
 
 ^NE  may  lay  down  the  following,  as  a  maxim, 
 which  will  never  fail,  viz.  That  fo  long  as  his 
 converfation  is  entertaining,  and  behaviour  affable  and 
 modeft,  he  will  be  fure  to  be  treated  with  refpedl,  tho* 
 his  difcourfe  be  quite  fober  and  chaile. 
 
 Swearing  a^id -ebleemty  are  offences  not  only  againfl: 
 all  that  is  lacred,  but  againfl  all  that  is  polite.  They 
 are  iinB  without  temptation,  without  alleviation,  and 
 without  reward.  Swearing  is-  an  affront  to  all  fober 
 and  well-behaved  people.  It  confounds  and  interrupts,, 
 inflead  of  gracing  converfation  ;  as  the  continual  repe- 
 tition of  any  fet  of  unmeaning  words  from  time  to  time 
 necefTarily  muft. 
 
 As  for  obfcenity,  every  one  knows  it  mull  lliock  and 
 flartle  every  modeft  ear.  It  gives  no  real  pleafure  ;  but 
 on  the  contrary,  if  it  has  any  effed:,  muft  excite  and  ir- 
 ritate the  palTions,  without  gratifying  them,  which  is 
 pain  and  torment.  If  obfcenity  is  fit  converfation  only 
 for  public  ftews,  it  cannot  be  proper  among  genteel 
 people ;  and  no  perfon  deferves  jhe  appellation  of  a 
 gentleman,  who  accuftoms  himfelf  to  the  behaviour  of 
 whore-mafters  and  proftitutes.  For  it  is  manners,  and 
 not  drefs,  that  form  that  charader. 
 
 If  the  definition  of  true  good  manners  be,  That  be- 
 haviour, which  makes  a  man-eafy  in  himfelf,  and  eafy 
 to  all  about  him ;  it  can  never  be  good  manners  to  be 
 troublefome  by  an  excefs  of  ceremony,  by  over-preffing 
 to  eat  or  drink,  or  by  forcing  one's  favours  of  any  kin^, 
 upon  thofe  one  converfes  with.  Nor  can  it  be  faid  to 
 be  confiftent  with  good  behaviour,  to  over-do  the  com- 
 plimenting part,  fo  as  to  border  upon  infipid  flattery ; 
 nor  does  politenefs  by  any  means  require  that  we  ex- 
 ceed 
 
Of  Prudence.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  at 
 
 ceed  our  inclination,  or  crofs  our  particular  tafle,  in 
 eating  and  drinking  what  may  be  preffed  upon  us,  to 
 our  own  dilguft  j  much  lefs  to  the  prejudice  of  our 
 health  or  temperance. 
 
 No  one  can  be  long  at  a  lofs,  as  to  behaviour,  who 
 obferves  the  two  foiJowing  directions,  and  is  in  earneft 
 refolved  to  regulate  his  condudt  upon  them,  viz.  firft, 
 That  the  way  to  be  generally  agreeable  in  converiation, 
 is  to  fhew,  that  one  has  lefs  at  heart  the  humouring  his 
 own  inclinations,  than  thofe  of  the  company,  and  that 
 he  is  not  fo  full  of  himfelf,  as  to  overlook  or  defpife 
 others;  and,  fecondly,  That  the  grace  of  behaviour  is 
 to  be  learned  only  from  the  imitation  of  the  judicious 
 and  polite. 
 
 But  care  muft  be  taken,  that  your  imitation  be  not 
 fo  ilavifh  as  to  ftrip  you  of  your  natural  charader  and 
 behaviour,  and  difguife  you  in  thofe  of  another,  which, 
 being  alTumed  and  artificial,  will  not  become  you. 
 For  nature  in  Rufiet  is  more  agreeable  than  affedation 
 in  Embroidery. 
 
 There  is  nothing  that  cofls  lefs,  and  gains  more 
 friends,  than  an  affable  and  courteous  behaviour.  One 
 may  always  obferve,  that  thofe,  who  have  been  accu- 
 il;omed  to  the  beil  compr.ny,  behave  with  the  greateft 
 freedom  and  good  nature.  People  of  figure  and  real 
 worth,  having  reafon  to  cxpecl  that  others  will  treat 
 them  with  fuitab|e  refped,  do  not  find  it  necelTary  to 
 aliume  any  airs  of  fuperiority.  Whereas,  the  vain  and 
 conceited,  who  fancy  no  fubmiflion  whatever  is  equal 
 to  their  dignity,  are  ever  endeavouring,  by  a  haughty  car- 
 riage, to  keep  up  that  refped  in  others,  v/hich  their  want 
 of  real  merit  cannot.  But  how  ill  they  fucceed,  is  eafy 
 to  obferve,  from  the  univerfal  contempt  and  difguft  fuch 
 a  behaviour  meets  with  among  all  judicious  people. 
 
 The  truth  of  the  matter  is,  that  the  differences  be- 
 tween one  perfon  and  another  are,  in  refped  to  every 
 circumftance,  but  that  of  virtue,,  fo  very  inconfiderable, 
 as  to  render  any  infolent  fuperiority  on  the  one  hand, 
 or  mean  fubraifiion  on  the  other,  extremely  ridiculous; 
 fmce,  according  to  the  elegant  expreffion  of  Scripture, 
 **  Man  is  but  a  worm,  and  the  fon  of  man  a  worm." 
 
 C  3  Nothing 
 
 i 
 
'/- 
 
 .32  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I. 
 
 Notlilng  fliews  a  greater  abjedlnefs  of  fpirit,  than  an 
 over-bearing  temper,  appearing  in  a  perfon's  behaviour 
 to  inferiors.  To  infult  or  abufe  thofe  who  dare  not  an- 
 fwer  again,  is  as  fure  a  mark  of  cowardice,  as  it  would 
 be  to  attack  with  a  drawn  fword  a  woman  or  a  child. 
 And  wherever  you  fee  a  perfon  given  to  infult  his  infe- 
 riors, you  may  aflure  yourfelf  he  will  creep  to  his  fu- 
 periors ;  for  the  fame  bafenefs  of  mind  will  lead  him  to 
 ad;  the  part  of  a  bully  to  thofe  who  cannot  refift,  and 
 of  a  coward  to  thofe  who  can.  But  though  fervants  and 
 other  dependents  may  not  have  it  in  their  power  to  re- 
 tort, in  the  fame  tafte,  the  injurious  ufage  they  receive 
 from  their  fuperiors,  they  are  fare  to  be  even  with  them 
 by  the  contempt  they  themfelves  have  for  them,  and 
 the  charafter  they  fpread  abroad  of  them  through  the 
 world.  Upon  the  whole,  the  proper  behaviour  to  in- 
 feriors is,  To  treat  them  with  generolity  and  humanity; 
 but  by  no  means  with  familiarity  on  one  hand,  or  in- 
 folence  on  the  other. 
 
 And,  if  a  fiery  temper  and  paffionate  behaviour  are 
 improper  to  inferiors,  they  are  more  fo  among  equals ; 
 for  this  obvious  reafon,  That  the  only  effe6l  of  a  cho- 
 leric behaviour  on  your  equals,  is  expoflng  you  to  the 
 ridicule  of  thofe  who  have  no  dependence  upon  you, 
 and  have  neither  hopes  nor  fears  from  you. 
 
 There  is  indeed  no  greater  happinefs  than  an  even 
 natural  temper,  neither  liable  to  be  extremely  eager  and 
 fanguine,  nor  ftoically  indifferent  and  infenfible;  neither 
 apt  to  be  worked  up  to  a  tern  pell;  vvith  every  trifle,  nor 
 yet  buried  in  a  continual  lethargic  flupidity  ;  neither 
 delighting  in  being  always  engaged  in  fcenes  of  mirth 
 and  frolic,  nor  to  be  wrapped  in  the  impenetrable 
 gloom  of  a  fixed  melancholy.  And  after  all,  what  is 
 there  in  life  that  may  be  juftJy  reckoned  of  fufficient 
 importance  to  move  a  perfon  to  a  violent  paflion  ?  What 
 good  grounds  can  there  be  for  great  expectations,  for 
 gloomy  apprehenfions,  for  immoderate  triumph,  or  for 
 deep  dejedion,  in  fuch  a  ifate  as  the  prefent,  in  which 
 we  are  fure  of  meeting  with  innumerable  difappoint- 
 ments,  even  in  the  greatefl  fuccefs  of  our  affairs,  and 
 in  which  we  know  that  our  afllictions  and  curpleafures 
 
 mud 
 
Of  Prudence.)  HUMx\N  NATURE.  23 
 
 muft  both  be  foon  over.  True  wifdom  wiU  dire6l  us  to 
 fludy  moderation  with  reipect  to  all  worldly  things  ; 
 to  indulge  mirth  but  feldom,  exceffive  grief  never ;  but 
 tx)  keep  up  conftantly  an  even  cheerfulnefs  of  temper. 
 
 If  it  fhould  happen,  through  inadvertency,  paffion, 
 or  human  frailty,  that  you  expofe  yourfelf  to  be  taken 
 to  talk  by  any  one,  do  not  fo  much  labour  to  juftify  the 
 adion,  for  that  is  doubling  the  fault ; — as  your  inten- 
 tion, which  might  be  harmlefs.  Befides,  the  adion 
 appears  manifeft  to  every  one;  fo  that  people  will  judge 
 for  thernfelves,  and  not  take  your  notion  of  it.  But 
 your  intention,  being  known  only  to  yourfelf,  they  will 
 more  readily  allow  you  to  be  the  molt  proper  perfon  to 
 explain  it.  Above  all,  it  is  bafe  and  unjuft  to  palliate 
 your  own  fault,  by  laying  the  blame  upon  others.  . 
 
 Suppofe  you  fhould  fairly  own  you  was  in  the  wrong.        L^ 
 
 It  will  be  only  confeffing  yourfelf  a  human  creature.  I 
 
 And  is  that  fo  mortifying  I  If,  on  the  contrary,  you 
 fhould  fland  it  out,  people  will  think  you  twice  in  the 
 wrong—in  con:imitting  a  folly,  and  in  perfifting  in  it. 
 Whereas  if  you  frankly  own  your  miftake,  they  will  al- 
 low your  candor  as  an  apology  for  half  the  fault. 
 
 It  is  generally  pride  and  paffion  that  engage  people 
 in  quarrels  and  law-fuits.  It  is  the  very  charader  of  a 
 good  man,  that  he  wiU,  upon  occafion,  recede  from 
 the  utmoft  rigor  of  what  he  might  in  juftice  demand. 
 If  this  character  were  a  common  one,  there  would  be 
 few  law-fuits ;  which,  whoever  loves,  I  heartily  vvifli 
 him,  for  his  inftrudion,  the  full  enjoyment  of  all  its  pe- 
 culiar delights,  as  attendance,  expence,  wafte  of  time, 
 fear,  and  wrangling,  with  the  hatred  of  al\  who  know  his 
 charader,  and  the  diminution  of  his  fortune,  by  every 
 fuit  he  engages  in. 
 
 If  you  have  reafon  to  believe  that  your  enemy  has 
 quitted  his  hatred  to  you,  and  his  ill-defigns  againit  you, 
 do  not  infift  upon  his  making  you  a  formal  fpeech,  ac- 
 knowledging his  fault,  and  alking  pardon  ;  but  forgive 
 him  frankly,  without  putting  him  to  the  pain  of  doing 
 what  may  be  more  difagreeable  to  him  than  you  can 
 imagine  :  For  mens'  natures  are  very  different.  If  you 
 already  know  that  he  is  favourably  difpofed  to  you,  yon 
 
 C  4  cannot 
 
24  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I, 
 
 cannot  know  jt  better  by  his  telling  you  fo  in  a  formal 
 manner.  At  the  fame  time  it  is  not  neceiiary  that  you 
 trufl:  yourfeif  any  more  in  the  hands  of  one  who  has 
 endeavoured  to  betray  and  ruin  you.  Ghriftian  for- 
 bearance and  forgivenefs  are  no  way  inconfiftent  with 
 prudence. 
 
 There  is  no  circumftance  in  life  too  trivial  to  be 
 wholly  unworthy  of  the  regard  of  a  pei  fon  who  would 
 be  generally  agreeable,  on  which  a  man's  iifcfulnefs  in 
 fociety  depends  much  more  than  many  people  are  aware 
 of.  It  is  great  pity  that  many  perfons,  eminently  va- 
 luable for  learning  and  piety,  do  not  ftudy  the  decorum 
 of  drefs  and  behaviour  more  than  they  do.  There  is  in- 
 comparably greater  good  to  be  gained  by  humouring 
 mankind  in  a  few  of  their  trifling  cu'toms,  and  thereby 
 winning  their  good-will,  than  by  ftartling  or  diigulling 
 them  by  a  finguiarity  of  behaviour  in  matters  of  no  con- 
 fequence.  In  drefs,  I  v.'ould  adviie  to  keep  the  middle 
 between  foppery  and  Ihabbinefs;  neither  being  the  firft 
 nor  the  lad  in  a  fafliion.  Every  thing  which  flicws,  what 
 is  commonly  called,  a  tafte  in  drefs,  is  a  proof  of  a  vain 
 and  filly  turn  of  mind,  and  never  fails  to  prejudice  the 
 judicious  againft  the  wearer.  A  difcreet  and  well-be- 
 haved perfon  will  never  fail  to  meet  with  due  refped; 
 from  all  the  difcerning  part  of  fociety  (and  the  good 
 opinion  of  the  reft  is  not  worth  defiring)  though  hi:^ 
 drefs  be  ever  fo  plain,  fo  it  be  decent, 
 
 SECT.    V. 
 
 Mifcellaneoiis  T^houghts  on  Frudence  in  Co^i'-jerfation. 
 
 S  order  or  method  are  of  very  little  confequence 
 in  treating  of  fuch  fubjects,  I  will  add  here  a  fet 
 of  mifcellaneous  thoughts  upon  the  art  of  converfation, 
 couched  in  a  few  words,  from  vvhich,  with  v/hat  has 
 been  ah'eady  obferved,  the  young  reader  may  furniih 
 himfelf  with  a  competent  knowledge  of  what  is  to  be 
 lludied,  and  v>hat  to  be  avoided  in  converfation.  If  the 
 reader  Ihould  find  the  fame  thought  twice,  it  is  hoped  his 
 candor  will  overlook  a  fault,  not  ealy  to  be  avoided  in 
 putting  top-ether  fucli  a  variety  of  unconnected  matter. 
 
 ,  'Inhere 
 
Of  Prudence.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  2^ 
 
 Theie  are  few  of  the  fo]lowi!)g  fentences  that  will  not 
 furniHi  a  good  deal  of  thought,  or  that  are  to  be  under- 
 lloou  to  their  full  extent  without  fome  confideration.      ^ 
 
 He  who  knows  the  world  will  not  be  too  bafliful.  He 
 who  knows  hirafelf  will  not  be  impudent. 
 
 Do  not  endeavour  to  ihine  in  all  companies.  Leave 
 room  for  your  hearers  to  imagine  fomething  within  you 
 beyond  all  you  have  faid.  And  remember,  the  more 
 you  are  praifed,  the  more  you  will  be  envied. 
 
 If  you  would  add  a  luftre  to  all  your  accomplifii- 
 ments,  ftudy  a  modell  behaviour.  To  excel  in  any  thing 
 valuable  is  great ;  but  to  be  above  conceit,  on  account 
 of  one's  accomplifhmenrs,  is  greater.  Confider;  if  you 
 have  rich  natural  gifts,  you  owe  them  to  the  Divine 
 bounty.  If  you  have  improved  your  underilanding,  and 
 ftudied  virtue,  you  have  only  done  your  duty.  And 
 thus  there  feems  little  ground  left  for  vanity. 
 
 You  need  not  tell  all  the  truth,  unlefs  to  thofe  who 
 have  a  right  to  know  it  all.  But  let  all  you  tell  be 
 tru:h. 
 
 Infult  not  another  for  his  want  of  a  talent  you 
 poflefs  :  he  may  have  others  which  you  want. 
 
 Praife  your  friends,  and  let  your  friends  praife  you. 
 
 If  you  treat  your  inferiors  with  familiarity,  expec:! 
 the  fame  from  them. 
 
 If  you  give  a  jeft,  take  one. 
 
 Let  all  your  jokes  be  truly  jokes.  Jelling  fometimcs 
 ends  in  fad  earneft. 
 
 If  a  favour  is  afked  of  you,  grant  it  if  you  can.  If 
 rot,  refufe  it  in  luch  a  manner  as  that  one  denial  may 
 be  fufficient. 
 
 Wit  without  humanity  degenerates  into  bitternefs. 
 Learning  without  prudence  into  pedantry. 
 
 In  the  midit  of  mirth,  refleft  that  many  of  your  fel- 
 lov/-creatures  round  the  world  are  expiring;  and  that 
 your  turn  will  come  fliortly.  So  you  will  keep  your 
 life  uniform  and  free  from  excefs. 
 
 Love  your  fellow-creature,  though  vitious.  Kate 
 vice  in  the  friend  you  love  the  moll. 
 
 Whether  is  the  laugher  or  the  morofe,  the  mod 
 diragreeable  companion  ? 
 
 Reproof 
 
ad  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I. 
 
 Reproof  is  a  medicine  like  mercury  or  opium  ;  if  it 
 be  improperly  adminiftered,  it  will  do  harm  inftead  of 
 good. 
 
 Nothing  is  more  unmannerly  than  to  refled"  on  any 
 man's  profelTion,  fed,  or  natural  infirmity.  He  who 
 ftirs  up  againfl  himfelf  another's  felf-love,  provokes  the 
 flrongeft  paflion  in  human  nature. 
 
 Be  careful  of  your  word,  even  in  keeping  the  moll 
 trifling  appointment.  But  do  not  blame  another  for  a 
 failure  of  that  kind,  till  you  have  heard  his  excufe. 
 
 Never  offer  advice,  but  where  there  is  fonie  pxoba- 
 ^il'iiy  of  its  being  followed. 
 
 If  a  great  perfon  has  omitted  rewarding  your  fervices, 
 do  not  talk  of  it.  Perhaps  he  may  not  yet  have  had  an 
 opportunity.  For  they  have  always  on  hand  expectants 
 innumerable;  and  the  clamorous  are  too  generally  gra- 
 tified before  the  deferving.  Befides,  it  is  the  way  to 
 draw  his  difpleafure  upon  you,  which  can  do  you  no 
 good,  but  make  bad  worfe.  If  the  fervices  you  did 
 were  voluntary,  you  ought  not  to  expe«fL  any  return, 
 becaufe  you  made  a  prefent  of  them  unalked.  And  a 
 free  gift  is  not  to  be  turned  into  a  loan,  to  draw  the 
 perfon  you  have  ferved  into  debt.  If  you  have  ferved 
 a  great  perfon  merely  with  a  view  to  felf-intereft,  per- 
 haps he  is  aware  of  that,  and  rewards  you  accord- 
 ingly. Nor  can  you  jaftly  complain  :  He  owes  you 
 nothing;  it  was  not  him  you  meant  to  ferve. 
 
 Fools  pretend  to  foretel  what  vyiU  be  the  iffue  of 
 things,  and  are  laughed  at  for  their  aukward  conjec- 
 tures. Wife  men,  being  aware  of  the  uncertainty  of 
 human  affairs,  and  having  obferved  how  fmalla  matter- 
 often  produces  a  great  change,  are  modelt  in  their  con- 
 jedlures. 
 
 He  who  talks  too  fafl,  outruns  his  hearers'  thoughts. 
 He  who  fpeaks  too  flow,  gives  his  hearer  pain  by  hiur 
 dering  his  thoughts,  as  a  rider  who  frets  his  horfe  by 
 reining  him  too  much. 
 
 Never  think  to  entertain  people  with  what  lies  out 
 of  their  way,  be  it  ever  fo  curious  in  its  kind.  Who 
 would  think  of   regaling  a  circle  of  ladies  with  the 
 
 beauties 
 
Of  Prudence.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  27 
 
 beauties  of  Homer's  Greek,   or  a  company  of  country- 
 fquires  with  Sir  Ifaac  Newton'' s  difcoveries  ? 
 
 Never  fifli  for  praife  :   It  i^s  nor  worth  the  bait. 
 
 Do  well ;  but  do  not  boaft  of  it.  For  that  will  lef- 
 fen  the  commendation  you  might  other  wife  have  de- 
 ferved 
 
 He  who  is  guilty  of  flattery,  declares  himfelf  to  be 
 funk  from  every  noble  and  manly  fentiment,  and  fliew?, 
 that  he  thinks  the  perfon  he  prefumes  upon,  void  of 
 modefty  and  difcernment.  Though  flattery  is  fo  com- 
 mon in  courts,  it  is  the  very  infolence  of  rudenefs. 
 
 To  offer  advice  to  an  angry  man,  is  like  blowing 
 againfl:  a  tempefli. 
 
 Too  much  precifenefs  and  folemnity  in  pronouncing 
 what  one  fays  in  common  converfation,  as  if  one  was 
 preaching,  is  generally  taken  for  an  indication  of  felf- 
 conceit. 
 
 Make  your  company  a  rarity,  and  people  will  value 
 it.     Men  defpife  what  they  can  eafily  have. 
 
 Value  truth,  however  you  come  by  it.  Who  would 
 not  pick  up  a  jewel,  that  lay  on  a  dunghill  ? 
 
 The  beauty  of  behaviour  conlifl:s  in  the  manner, 
 more  than  the  matter  of  your  dilcourfe. 
 
 If  your  fuperior  treats  you  with  familiarity,  it  will 
 not  therefore  become  you  to  treat  him  in  the  fame 
 iuanner. 
 
 Men  of  many  words  are  generally  men  of  many  pufls. 
 
 A  good  way  to  avoid  impertinent  and  pumping  in- 
 quiries, is  by  anfwering  with  another  queflion.  Aii 
 evaflon  may  alfo  ferve  the  purpofe.  But  a  lie  is  inex- 
 cufable  on  any  occafion,  efpecially,  when  ufed  to  con- 
 ceal the  truth,  frcm  one  who  has  no  authority  to  de- 
 mand it. 
 
 To  reprove  with  fuccefs,  the  following  circumflanccs 
 are  neceflary,  viz.  miidnefs,  fecrecy,  intimacy,  and  the 
 efteem  of  the  perfon  you  would  reprove. 
 
 If  you  be  nettled  with  fevere  raillery,  take  care  never 
 to  fliew  that  you  are  flung,  unlefs  you  chooie  to  pro- 
 voke more. 
 
 The  way  to  avoid  being  made  a  butt,  is  not  to  fet  up 
 for  an  archer. 
 
 '    '  .  To 
 
^t  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  h 
 
 To  fet  up  for  a  general  critic,  is  bullying  mankind. 
 
 Refle6l  upon  the  different  appearances  things  make 
 to  you  from  what  they  did  forac  years  ago  ;  and  do  not 
 imagine  that  your  opinion  will  never  alter,  becaufeyou 
 are  pofitive  at  prefent.  Let  the  remembrance  of  your 
 paft  changes  of  fentiment  make  you  more  flexible. 
 
 If  ever  you  was  in  a  paiFion,  did  you  not  find  reafon 
 afterwards  to  be  forry  for  it?  And  will  you  again  allow 
 yourfelf  to  be  guilty  of  a  weaknefs,  which  will  certainly 
 be  in  the  fame  manner  followed  by  repentance,  belides 
 being  attended  with  pain  ? 
 
 Never  argue  Vv'ith  any  but  men  of  fenfe  and  temper. 
 
 It  is  ill-manners  to  trouble  people  with  talking  too 
 much  either  of  yourfelf,  or  your  affairs.  If  you  are 
 full  of  yourfelf,  confider,  that  you,  and  your  affairs, 
 are  not  fo  interefting  to  other  people  as  to  you. 
 
 Keep  filence  fometimes,  upon  fubjeds  which  you  are 
 known  to  be  a  judge  of.  So  your  lilence,  where  you 
 are  ignorant,  will  not  difcover  you. 
 
 Som.e  ladies  will  forgive  lillinefs ;  but  none  ill-man- 
 ners. And  there  are  but  few  capable  of  judging  of 
 your  learning  or  genius;  but  all  of  your  behaviour. 
 
 Do  not  judge  by  a  view  of  one  perfon  or  thing. 
 
 Think  like  the  wife,  but  talk  like  ordinary  people. 
 Never  go  out  of  the  common  road  but  for  fomewhat. 
 
 Do  not  difpute  againfl:  fadls  well  edabliflied,  merely 
 becaufe  there  is  fomewhat  unaccountable  in  them. 
 That  the  world  Ihould  be  created  of  nothing,  is  to  us 
 anconceiveable  ;  but  not  therefore  to  be  doubted. 
 
 There  is  no  occafion  to  trample  upon  the  meaneft  rep- 
 tile, nor  to  fneak  to  the  greatelt  prince.  Infolence  and 
 bafejiefs  are  equally  unmanly. 
 
 As  you  are  going  to  a  party  of  mirth,  think  of  the 
 hazard' you  run  of  mifl^ehaving.  While  you  are  en- 
 gaged, do  not  wholly  forget  yourfelf  And  after  all  is 
 over,  reflect  hov/  you  have  behaved.  If  well,  be  thank- 
 ful :  It  is  more  than  you  could  have  promifed.  If 
 otherwife,  be  more  careful  for  the  future. 
 
 Do  not  fit  dumb  in  company.  It  will  be  afcribed 
 either  to  pride,  cunning,  or  ftupidity.  Give  your  opi- 
 nion modeftly,    but  freely ;  heur  that  of  others  with 
 
 candor; 
 
Of  Prudence.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  -9^ 
 
 candor  ;  and  ever  endeavour  to  find  out,   and  to  com- 
 raunicate  truth. 
 
 If  you  have  Teen  a  man  miibehavecnce,  do  not  from 
 thence  conchide  him  a  fool.  If  you  find  he  has  been 
 in  a  miftake  in  one  particular,  do  not  at  once  conclude 
 him  void  of  underftanding.  By  that  way  of  judging, 
 you  can  entertain  a  favourable  opinion  of  no  man  upon 
 earth,  nor  even  of  yourfelf. 
 
 In  mixed  company,  be  readier  to  hear  than  to  fpeak^ 
 and  put  people  upon  talking  of  what  is  in  their  own 
 way.  For  then  you  will  both  oblige  them,  and  be  mofl: 
 likely  to  improve  by  their  converfation. 
 
 Humanity  will  dired:  to  be  particularly  cautious  of 
 treating,  v/ith  the  leafL  appearance  of  negled,  thofe  who 
 have  lately  met  with  misfortunes,  and  are  funk  in  life. 
 Such  perfons  are  apt  to  think  themfelves  flighted,  when 
 no  fuch  thing  is  intended.  Their  minds,  being  already 
 fore,  feel  the  lealt  rub  very  feverely.  And  who  would 
 be  fo  cruel  as  to  add  afflidlion  to  the  afflided  ? 
 
 Too  much  company  is  worfe  than  none. 
 
 To  fmother  the  generolity  of  thofe,  who  have  obliged 
 you,  is  imprudent,  as  well  as  ungrateful.  The  memiori 
 of  kindneffes  received  may  excite  thofe  who  hear  it  to 
 deferve  your  good  word,  by  imitating  the  example 
 which  they  fee  does  others  fo  much  honour. 
 
 Learning  is  like  bank-notes.  Prudence  fand  good 
 behaviour  are  like  filver,  ufeful  upon  all  occafions. 
 '  If  you  have  been  once  in  company  with  an  idle  per- 
 fon,  it  is  enough.  You  need  never  go  again.  You  have 
 heard  all  he  knows.  And  he  has  had  no  opportunity 
 of  learning  any  thing  new*  For  idle  people  make  no 
 improvements. 
 
 Deep  learning  will  make  you  acceptable  to  the 
 learned  ;  but  it  is  only  an  eafy  and  obliging  behaviour, 
 and  entertaining  converfation,  that  will  make  you  agree- 
 able to  all  companies. 
 
 Men  repent  fpeaking  ten  times,  for  once  that  they 
 repent  keeping  filence. 
 
 It  is  an  advantage  to  have  concealed  one's  opinion. 
 For  by  that  means  you  may  change  your  judgment  of 
 
 things 
 
30  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book! 
 
 things  (which  every  wife  man  finds  reafon  to  do)  and 
 not  be  accLifed  of  ficklenefs 
 
 There  is  hardly  any  bodity  blemifh,  which  a  winning 
 behaviour  will  not  conceal,  or  make  tolerable  ;  and  there 
 is  no  external  grace,  which  ill-nature  or  alFedtation  will 
 not  deform. 
 
 If  you  mean  to  make  your  fide  of  the  argument  ap- 
 pear plaufible,  do  not  prejudice  people  againll  what  you 
 think  truth,  by  your  paffionate  manner  of  defending  it. 
 
 There  is  an  aifedled  humility  more  unfufFerable  than 
 downright  pride,  as  hypocrify  is  more  abominable  than 
 libertinifm.  Take  care  that  your  virtues  be  genuine 
 and  unfophifiicated. 
 
 If  you  put  on  a  proud  carriage,  people  will  want  to 
 know  what  there  is  in  you  to  be  proud  of.  It  is  ten  to 
 one  whether  they  value  your  accompliOiments  at  the 
 fame  rate  as  you.  And  the  higher  you  afpire,  they  will 
 be  the  more  defiroas  to  mortify  you. 
 
 Nothing  is  more  naufeous  than  apparent  felf-fufHciencV. 
 For  it  flievvs  the  company  two  things,  which  are  ex- 
 tremely difagreeable  ;  That  you  have  a  high  opinion  of 
 yourfelf;  and,  That  you  have  comparatively  a  meaii 
 opinion  of  them. 
 
 It  is  the  concurrence  of  pallions,  that  produces  a 
 ftorm.  Let  an  angry  man  alone,  and  he  will  cool  of 
 himfelf. 
 
 It  is  but  feldom,  that  very  remarkable  occurrences  fall 
 out  in  life.  The  evennefs  of  your  temper,  will  be  in 
 nioft  danger  of  being  troubled  by  trifles  which  take  you 
 by  furprife. 
 
 It  is  as  obliging  in  company,  efpecially  of  fuperiors, 
 to  liften  attentively,  as  to  talk  entertainingly. 
 
 Do  not  think  of  knocking  out  another  perfon's  brains, 
 becaufe  he  differs  in  opinion  from  you.  It  will  be  as 
 rational  to  knock  yourfelf  on  the  head,  becaufe  you 
 differ  from  yourfelf  ten  years  ago. 
 
 If  you  want  to  gain  any  man's  good  opinion,  take  par- 
 ticular care  how  you  behave,  the  firft  time  you  are  in 
 company  with  him.  The  light  you  appear  in  at  firft, 
 to  one  who  is  neither  inclinable  to  think  well  nor  ill  of 
 you,  will  itrongly  prejudice  him  either  for  or  againft  you. 
 
 Good 
 
Of  Prudence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  3r 
 
 Good  humour  is  the  only  (hield  to  keep  off  the  darts 
 of  the  fatirical  railer.  If  you  have  a  quiver  well-flored, 
 and  are  fure  of  hitting  niai  between  the  joints  of  the 
 harnefs,  do  not  fpare  him.  But  you  had  better  not 
 bend  your  bow  than  mifs  your  aim. 
 
 The  modeft  man  is  feldom  the  objeifh  of  envy. 
 
 In  the  company  of  ladies,  do  not  labour  to  eftablifli 
 learned  points  by  long-winded  arguments.  They  do 
 not  care  to  take  much  pains  about  finding  out  truth. 
 
 Talkativenefs,  in  fome  men,  proceeds  from  what  is 
 extremely  amiable,  I  mean,  an  open,  communicative 
 temper.  Nor  is  it  an  univerfal  rule,  that  whoever  talks 
 much,  muft  fay  a  great  deal  not  worth  hearing.  I  have 
 known  men  who  talked  freely,  becaufe  they  had  a  great 
 deal  to  fay,  and  delighted  in  communicating  for  their 
 own  advantage,  and  that  of  the  company  ;  and  I  have 
 known  others,  who  commonly  fat  dumb,  becaufe  they 
 could  find  nothing  to  fay.  In  England,  we  blame 
 every  one  who  talks  freely,  let  his  converfation  be  ever 
 fo  entertaining  and  improving.  In  France,  they  look 
 upon  every  man  as  a  gloomy  mortal,  vvhofe  tongue  does 
 not  make  an  uninterrupted  noife.  Both  thefe  judg- 
 ments are  unjuft. 
 
 If  you  talk  fentences,  do  not  at  the  fame  time  give 
 yourfelf  a  magifterial  air  in  doing  it.  An  eafy  conver- 
 fation is  the  only  agreeable  one,  efpecially  in  mixed 
 company. 
 
 Be  fure  of  the  fad,  before  you  lofe  time  in  fearching 
 for  a  caufe. 
 
 If  you  have  a  friend  that  will  reprove  your  faults  and 
 foibles,  confider  you  enjoy  a  bleffing,  which  the  king 
 upon  the  throne  canrtot  have. 
 
 In  difputes  upon  moral  or  fcientific  points,  ever  let 
 your  aim  be  to  come  at  truth,  not  to  conquer  your 
 opponent.  So  you  never  fhall  be  at  a  lofs,  in  iofing  the 
 argument,  and  gaining  a  new  difcovery. 
 
 What  may  be  very  entertaining  in  company  with 
 ignorant  people,  may  be  tirefome  to  thofe  who  know 
 more  of  the  matter. 
 
 There  is  no  method  more  likely  to  cure  padion  and 
 ralhnefs,  than  the  frequent  and  attentive  confideralion 
 
 of 
 
32  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  L 
 
 of  one's  own  weakneffes  This  will  work  into  the 
 mind  an  habitual  I'enfe  of  the  need  one  has  of  being 
 pardoned,  and  uill  bring  down  the  fweliing  pride  and 
 obflinacy  of  heart,  which  are  the  caufeof  haily  paffion. 
 
 If  you  happen  into  company,  where  the  talk  runs  into 
 party,  obfcenity,  fcandal,  folly,  or  vice  of  any  kind, 
 you  had  better  pafs  for  morofe  or  unfociai,  among  peo- 
 ple whofe  good  opinion  is  not  worth  having,  than  fhock 
 your  own  confcience,  by  joining  in  converfation  which 
 you  muil  difapprove  of. 
 
 If  you  would  have  a  right  tp  account  of  things  from 
 illiterate  people,  let  them  tell  their  ftory  in  their  own 
 ■way.  If  you  put  them  upon  talking  according  to  logi- 
 cal rules,  yoa  will  confound  them. 
 
 I  was  much  pleafcd  with  the  faying  of  a  gentleman, 
 v/ho  was  engaged  in  a  friendly  argument  with  another 
 -upon  a  point  in  morals.  "  You  and  I  (fays  he  to  his 
 "  antagonift)  feem,  as  far  as  I  hitherto  underftand,  to 
 **  differ  coniiderably  in  our  opinions.  Let  us,  if  you 
 *'  pleafe,  try  wherein  we  can  agree."  The  fcheme  in 
 molt  difputes  is  to  try  who  fhall  conquer,  or  confound 
 the  other.  It  is  therefore  no  wonder  that  fo  little  light 
 is  ftruck  out  in  converfation,  where  a  candid  inquiry 
 after  truth  is  often  the  leaft  thing  thought  of. 
 
 If  a  ^lan  complains  to  you  of  his  wife,  a  woman  of 
 her  hufband,  a  parent  of  a  child,  or  a  child  of  a  parent,, 
 be  very  cautious  how  you  meddle  between  fuch  near 
 ,  relations,  to  blame  the  behaviour  of  one  to  the  other. 
 •  You  will  only  have  the  hatred  of  both  parties,  and  do 
 i  no  good  with  either.  But  this  does  not  hinder  your 
 j  giving  both  parties,  or  either,  your  belt  advice  in  a  pro^ 
 .'  dent  manner. 
 
 Be  prudently  fecret.  But  do  not  affed  to  make  a  fe- 
 cret  of  what  all  the  world  may  know  ;  nor  give  your- 
 felf  airs  of  being  as  clofe  as  a  confpirator.  Tou  will 
 better  difappoint  idle  curiofity  by  feeming  to  have 
 nothing  to  conceal. 
 
 Never  blame  a  friend,  without  joining  fome  commen- 
 dation to  make  reproof  go  down. 
 
 It  is  by  giving  a  loofe  to  folly,  in  converfation  and 
 aclion,  that  people  expofe  themfelves  to  contempt  and 
 
 ridicule. 
 
Of  Prudence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  33 
 
 ridicule.  The  modeft  man  may  deprive  himfelf  of 
 fome  part  of  the  applaufe  of  feme  fort  of  people  in  con- 
 verfation,  by  not  (hining  altogether  fo  much  ys  he 
 might  have  done.  Or  he  may  deprive  himfii'lf  of  ibme 
 lefler  advantages  in  life  by  his  reludlancy  in  putting 
 himfelf  forward.  But  it  is  only  the  ralli  and  impetuous 
 talker,  or  ad:or,  that  effedtually  expofes  himfelf  in  com- 
 pany, or  ruins  himfelf  in  life.  It  is  therefore  eafy  to 
 determine  which  is  the  fafeft  fide  to  err  on. 
 
 It  is  a  bafe  temper  in  mankind,  that  they  will  not 
 take  the  fmalleft  llight  at  the  hand  of  thofe  who  have 
 done  them  the  greatetf  kindnefs. 
 
 If  you  fall  into  the  greatell  company,  in  a  natural 
 and  unforced  way,  look  upon  yourfelf  as  one  of  them  ; 
 and  do  not  fneak,  nor  fuffer  any  one  to  treat  you  un- 
 worthily, without  jufl  (hewing,  that  you  know  beha- 
 viour. But  if  you  fee  them  difpofed  to  be  rude,  over- 
 bearing, or  purfe-proud,  it  will  be  more  decent  and  lefs 
 troublefome  to  retire,  than  to  wrangle  w^ith  them. 
 
 If  at  any  time  you  chance,  in  converfation,  to  get  on 
 a  fide  of  an  argument  which  you  find  not  to  be  tenable, 
 or  any  other  way  over-fhoot  yourfelf,  turn  off  the  fubje^l 
 in  as  eafy  and  good-humoured  a  way  as  you  can.  If 
 you  proceed  ftill,  and  endeavour,  right  or  wrong,  to 
 make  your  firll  point  good,  you  will  only  entangle  your- 
 felf the  more,  and  in  the  end  expofe  yourfelf. 
 
 Never  over-praife  any  abfent  perfon  :  efpecially  la- 
 dies, in  company  of  ladies.  It  is  the  way  to  bring 
 envy  and  hatred  upon  thofe  whom  you  wifii  well  to. 
 
 To  try,  whether  your  converfation  is  likely  to  be 
 acceptable  to  people  of  fenfe,  imagine  what  you  fay 
 writ  down  or  printed,  and  confider  how  it  would  read; 
 whether  it  would  appear  natural,  improving,  and  enter- 
 taining ;  or  affeded,  unmeaning,  or  mifchievous. 
 
 It  is  better,  in  converfation,  with  pofitive  men,  to  turn 
 off  the  fubjed;  in  difpute  with  fome  merry  conceit,  than 
 keep  up  the  contention  to  the  difturbance  of  the  com- 
 pany. 
 
 Do  not  give    your  advice  upon  any  extraordinary 
 
 emergency,  nor  your  opinion  upon  any  difiicult  point, 
 
 'efpecially  in  company  of  eminent  pcrfons,  without  firft 
 
 D  takinp" 
 
34  THE  DIGNITY  OF  {Book  L 
 
 takinp;  time  to  deliberate.  If  you  fay  nothing,  it  may 
 not  be  known  whether  your  fiience  was  owing  to  igno- 
 rance of  the  fnbject,  or  to  modefty.  If  you  give  a  rafli 
 and  crude  opinion,  you  are  effectually  and  irrecover.^ 
 ably  expofed. 
 
 If  you  fill  your  fancy,  while  you  are  in  company, 
 with  fufpicions  of  their  thinking  meanly  of  you  ;  if  you 
 puff  yourfelf  up  with  imaginations  of  appearing  to  them 
 a  very  witty  or  profound  perfon  ;  if  you  difcompofe 
 yourfelf  with  fears  of  mifbehaving  before  them  ;  or  any 
 wav  put  yourfelf  ovit  of  yourfelf;  you  will  not  appear 
 in  your  natural  colour  :  but  in  that  of  an  affefted,  per« 
 fonated  charad.er,  which  is  alvvays  difagreeable. 
 
 It  may  beufeful  taftudy,  at  leifure,  a  variety  of  pro* 
 per  phrafes  for  fuch  occafions  as  are  moil  frequent  in 
 life,  as  civilities  to  fuperiors,  exprellions  of  kindnefs  to 
 inferiors  ;  congratulations,  condolence,  exprellions  of 
 gratitude,  acknowledgment  of  faults,  aiking  or  denying 
 of  favours,  &c.  I  prefcribe  no  particular  phrafes,  be- 
 eaufe,  the  language  of  converfation  continually  fludlu- 
 ating,  they  muft  foon  become  obfolete.  The  beft  me- 
 thod of  acquiring  the  accomplifhment  of  a  graceful  and 
 eafy  manner  of  expreffion  for  the  common  occafions  of 
 life,  is  attention,  and  imitation  of  well-bred  people. 
 Nothing  mal:e5  a  m.an  appear  more  contemptible  than 
 barrennefs,  pedantry,  or  impropriety  of  exprefBon. 
 
 If  you  would  be  employed  in  ferious  bufinels,  do  not 
 fet  up  fcT  a  buffoon. 
 
 Flattery  is  a  compound  of  falfehood,  felfifiinefs,  fervi- 
 lity,  and  ill-manners.  Any  one  of  thefe  qualities  is 
 enough  to  make  a  charader  thoroughly  odious.  Who 
 then  vv^ould  be  the  perfon,  or  have  any  concern  with 
 bjm,  whole  mind  is  delorraed  by  four  fuch  vice?  r 
 
 If  you  muft  fpeak  upon  a  difficult  point,  be  the  iaft 
 fpenker  if  you  can. 
 
 You  will  not  be  agreeable  to  company,  if  you  n:rive 
 to  bring  in,  or  keep  up,  a  fubject  unfuitableto  their  ca- 
 pacities or  humour. 
 
 You  will  never  convince  a  man  of  ordinary  fenfe,  by 
 overbearing  his  undtrftandmg.  If  you  difpute  with 
 him  in  fuch  a  manner,  as  to  flievv  a  due  deference  for 
 
 his 
 
Xif Prudence.)  HITMAN   NATURE.  3^ 
 
 his  judgment,  your  compiaifance  may  win  him,  though 
 your  Taucy  arguments  could  not. 
 
 Avoid  dii'putes  altogether,  if  poffible ;  efpecially  in 
 mixed  companies,  and  with  ladies.  You  will  hardly 
 convince  any  one,  and  may  difoblige  or  ftartle  them, 
 and  get  yoLirfelf  the  charader  of  a  conceited  pragmati- 
 cal perfon.  Whereas  that  of  an  agreeable  companion, 
 which  you  may  have  without  giving  yourfelf  any  great 
 air  of  learning  or  depth,  may  be  more  advantageous  to 
 you  in  life,  and  will  make  you  welcome  in  ail  compa- 
 nies. 
 
 The  frequent  ufe  of  the  name  of  God,  or  the  devil  ; 
 allulions  to  paflages  of  Scripture  ;  mocking  at  any  thing 
 ferious  and  devout ;  oaths,  vulgar  bye-words,  cant- 
 phrafes,  affedled  hard-words,  when  familiar  terms  will 
 do  as  well;  fcraps  ol  Latin^  Greeks  or  Fremh ;  quota- 
 tions from  plays,  fpoke  in  a  theatrical  manner ;  all  tbefe 
 much  ufed  in  converfation  render  a  perfon  very  con- 
 temptible to  grave  and  wife  men^ 
 
 If  you  fend  people  away  from  your  company  well- 
 plea  fed  with  themfeives,  you  need  not  fear  but  they  will 
 be  well  enough  pleafed  with  you,  whether  they  have 
 received  any  inftrudion  from  you  or  not.  Moft  people 
 had  rather  be  pleafed  than  inrtruded. 
 
 Do  not  tell  unlikely  or  liily  flories,  if  you  know  them, 
 to  be  true. 
 
 There  is  no  greater  rudenefs  to  company,  than  enter- 
 taining them  with  fcoldmg  your  fervants. 
 
 Avoid  little  oddities  in  behaviour.  But  do  not 
 dcfpife  a  man  of  worth,  for  his  having  fomewhat  awk- 
 vvard,  or  lefs  agreeable,  in  his  manner, 
 
 I  hardly  know  any  company  more  difagreeable  thart 
 that  of  thofe,  who  are  ever  {training  to  hook  in  fome 
 quirk  of  wit  or  drollery,  whatever  be  the  fubjed  ot 
 converfation.  Reflect:  in  yourfelf,  after  you  have  paiiVd 
 fome  hours  in  fuch  company  ;  and  obi'erve  whecher  it 
 leaves  any  thing  in  your  tnind  but  emptinefs,  levity,  or 
 diTguft.  Again  oblerve,  after  you  have  palTeJ  f  .aie 
 time  in  the  converfation  of  men  of  wildom  and  learn- 
 ing, if  y9u  do  not  find  your  mind  filled  with  indic^   us 
 
 reflections, 
 
36  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I 
 
 refledlions,  and  worthy  refolutions.     If  you  do  not,  it  h 
 becaufe  you  have  not  a  mind  capable  of  them. 
 
 If  you  can  exprefs  yourfelf  to  be  perfectly  under- 
 ftood  in  ten  words,  never  ufe  a  dozen.  Go  not  about 
 to  prove,  by  a  long  feries  of  reafoning,  what  aii  the 
 world  is  ready  to  own. 
 
 If  any  one  takes   the  trouble  of  finding  fault  with , 
 you,  you  ought  in  reafon  to  fuppofe  he  has  (bnie  regard 
 for  you,  elie  he  would  not  run  the  hazard  of  difobliging 
 you,  and  drawing  upon  himfelf  your  hatred. 
 
 Do  not  ruffle  or  provoke  any  man  :  Why  (hould  any 
 one  be  the  worfe  for  coming  into  company  with  you  ? 
 Be  not  yourfelf  provoked  :  Why  fhould  you  give  any 
 man  the  advantage  over  you  ? 
 
 To  fay  that  one  has  opinions  very  different  from 
 thofe  commonly  received,  is  faying  that  he  either  loves 
 iingularity,  or  ^hat  he  thinks  for  himfelf.  Which  of 
 the  two  is  the  cafe,  can  only  be  found  by  examining 
 the  grounds  of  his  opinions. 
 
 Do  not  appear  to  the  public  too  fure,  or  too  eager 
 upon  any  projedl.  If  it  fliould  mifcarry,  which  it  is 
 a  chance  but  it  does,  you  will  be  laughed  at.  The 
 fureft  way  to  prevent  which,  is  not  to  tell  your  defigris 
 or  profpects  in  life. 
 
 If  you  give  yourfelf  a  loofe  in  mixed  company,  you 
 may  ahuoft  depend  on  being  pulled  to  pieces  as  foon 
 ^s  your  back  is  turned,  however  they  may  feem  enter- 
 tained with  your  converfation. 
 
 For  common  converfation,  men  of  ordinary  abilities 
 "will  upon  occalion  do  well  enough.  And  you  may 
 always  pick  foniething  out  of  any  man's  difcourfe,  by 
 which  you  may  profit.  For  an  intimate  friend  to  im- 
 prove by,  you  muft  fearch  half  a  county  over,  and  be 
 glad  if  you  can  find   him  at  laffc. 
 
 Do  not  give  your  time  to  every  fuperfieial  acquaint- 
 ance:  it  is  bellowing  what  is  to  you  of  ineftimable 
 worth,  upon  one,  who  is  not  likely  to  be  the  better 
 for  it. 
 
 If  a  perfon  has  behaved  to  you  in  an  unaccountable 
 manner,  do  not  at  once  conclude  him  a  bad  man,  unlefs 
 you  find  his  character  given  up  by  all  who  know  him  ; 
 
 nor 
 
OfPnidence.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  37 
 
 nor  then,  unlefs  the  fads  alleged  againfl:  him  be  un- 
 doubtedly proved,  and  wholly  inexcufable.  But  this 
 is  not  adviling  you  to  truft  a  perfon,  whofe  characilei* 
 you  have  any  reafon  to  furped.  Nothing  can  be  more 
 abfard  than  the  common  vyay  of  fixing  peoples' charac- 
 ters. Such  a  one  has  difobliged  me  ;  therefore  he  is 
 a  villain.  Such  another  has  done  me  a  kindnefs ;  there- 
 fore he  is  a  faint. 
 
 Never  contend  about  fmall  matters  with  fuperiors, 
 nor  with  inferiors.  If  you  get  the  better  of  the  ihit, 
 you  provoke  their  formidable  refentment  :  if  you  en- 
 gage with  the  latter,  you  debafe  yourfelf. 
 
 If  you  acl  a  part  truly  great,  you  may  expe6l  that 
 xnen  of  mean  fpirits,  who  cannot  reach  you,  will  endea- 
 vour, by  detradion,  to  pull  you  down  to  their  \tvt\„ 
 But  pofterity  will  do  you  juilice  :  for  the  envy  raifed 
 againft  you,  will  die  with  you. 
 
 Superficial  people  are  more  agreeable  the  firft  time' 
 you  are  in  their  company,  than  ever  afterwards.  Men 
 of  judgment  improve  every  fucceeding  converfation :' 
 beware  therefore  of  judging  by  one  interview. 
 
 You  will  not  anger  a  man  fo  much  by  Ihevving  him. 
 that  you  hate  him,  as  by  exprelling  a  contempt  of  him. 
 
 Mofl  young  women  had  rather  have  any  of  theit 
 good  qualities  flighted,  than  their  beauty.  Yet  that  is 
 the  molt  incondderable  accorapUfhraent  of  a  woman  of 
 real  merit. 
 
 You  will  be  rdways  reckoned  by  the  world  nearly  of 
 the  fame  charafter  with  thofe  whofe  company  you  keep. 
 
 You  will  pleafe  fo  much  the  lefs,  if  you  go  into  com- 
 pany determined  to  fnine.  Let  your  converfation  ap- 
 pear to  rife  out  of  thoughts  fuggefted  by  the  occafion, 
 not  ftrained,  or  premeditated  :  nature  always  pleafes  : 
 afteciation  is  ahvays  odious. 
 
 D  3  PART 
 
«??  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I. 
 
 PART     IL 
 
 (y  Prudence  irt  Action, 
 
 SECT.    I. 
 
 Of  following  Advice.     Of  Siihnijfion  to  Svperiors, 
 
 RUDENCE  in  ad:ion  is  the  conducting  of  one's 
 affairs  in  fuch  a  manner  as  is  neceffary  and  proper, 
 kli  circumftances  duly  cpniidered  and  balanced  ;  and 
 avoiding  whatever  may  be  likely  to  produce  inconveni- 
 ence with  refpecl  to  fecular  concernSo  Imprudence  is 
 feen  as  much  in  negleding  what  ought  to  be  done,  and 
 at  the  proper  time  for  doing  it,  as  in  taking  raRi  and 
 incoiifiderate  Heps. 
 
 There  is  not  a  more  promifing  lign  in  a  young  per- 
 fon,  than  a  readinefs  to  hear  the  advice  of  thofe  whofe 
 age  and  experience  qualify  them  forjudging  maturely. 
 The  knowledge  of  the  world,  and  of  the  arts  of  life, 
 can  only  be  attained  by  experience  and  adion.  There- 
 fore if  a  young  perfon,  who,  through  obilinacy,  rejeds 
 the  advice  of  experienced  people,  fucceeds  in  his  de- 
 figns,  it  is  owing  to  fome  ftrange  interpoiition  of  Provi- 
 dence, or  concurrence  of  circumllances.  For  .fuch  a 
 one,  entering  into  life,  wholly  unacquainted  with  the 
 difficulties  and  dangers  of  it,  and  refolutely  bent  againil 
 advice,  runs  the  fame  hazard  as  a  perfon,  wholly  igno- 
 rant of  failing,  who  fhould,  againlt  the  judgment  of  ex- 
 perienced pilots,  undertake  to  lleer  a  fnip  through  the 
 jnoft  dangerous  fea  in  a  tempeft. 
 
 It  feems  at  firfh  view,  a  very  odd  turn  in  human  na- 
 ture, that  young  people  are  generally  much  micre  con- 
 ceited of  their  own  judgments,  than  thofe  who  are 
 come  to  maturity.  One  would  wonder  how  they  fliould 
 piifs  retleding,  that  perfons  more  advanced  in  age  than 
 themfelves,  have  of  courfe  the  advantage  of  fo  many 
 years'  experience  beyond  themfelves ;  and  that,  if  all 
 other  things  were  equal,  the  iingle  circumllance  of  hav- 
 ing feen  more  of  the  world,  mull  neceffarily  enable 
 them  to  judge  better  of  it. 
 
OfPmdence.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  39 
 
 Life  is  a  journey  ;  and  ther  only  who  have  travelled 
 a  confiderable  way  in  it,  are  ti:  to  dired  thofe  \vho  are 
 fetting  out. 
 
 Let  me  therefore  advife  my  young  readers,  to  pay  the  -y 
 utmoll  deference  to  the  advices  or  commands  of  thofe, 
 who  are  their  fuperiors  in  age  and  experience.  Old 
 people,  it  mud  be  ov>^ned,  will  foraetimes  obtrude  their 
 advice  in  a  manner  not  very  engaging.  Their  infirmi- 
 ties, the  ufual  attendants  of  age,  together  with  their 
 Goncern  for  the  wrong  deps  they  fee  their  young  rela- 
 tions and  acquaintance  taking,  will  fometimes  occa- 
 iion  their  treating  them  vyith  what  may  be  taken  for 
 Ul-nature  ;  whereas,  it  may  be  in  reality  their  love  for 
 the  perfons  of  their  young  friends,  and  their  zeal  for 
 their  interePcs,  which  warm  them..  Do  not  therefore 
 attend  to  the  manner  of  the  advice  ;  but  only  to  the 
 matter  of  it.  It  would  be  of  very  little  confequence 
 to  you,  if  you  was  going  toward  a  precipice  in  a, 
 dark  night,  whether  you  were  warned  of  your  danger 
 by  a  rude  clowu,  or  by  a  polite  gentleman,  fo  you 
 efcaped  it.  In  the  fame  manner,  if  a  remonftrance  is 
 made  upon  any  part  of  one's  conduct,  in  the  rougheit 
 manner;  the  only  thing  to  be  conlidered,  is,  whether 
 we  can  profit  by  it,  and  the  rudenefs  of  the  perfon, 
 v;ho  made  it,  Qiould  go  for  nothing;  as  one  would  fwal- 
 l»w  a  medicine,  not  tor  its  gratefuinefs  to.  the  taile,  but 
 for  its  effe6t  on  the  conilitution. 
 
 As  to  the  fubmiiiion  a  young  man  owes  to  his  fupe-  "--» 
 riors,  as  parents,  mafterSj,  &c.  if  it  were  not  a  duty,  pru-  / 
 dence  alone  Vv'ould  lead  him  to  yield  it  readily  and 
 cheerfully  in  all  cafes  that  are  lawful.  For  it  is  to  be 
 confidered,  that  the  cocfequeiices  of  refilling  are  incom- 
 parably worfe  than  thofe  of  fubmiflion  ;  the  vvorld  be- 
 ing always  ready  to  lay  the  blame  upon  the  young  per- 
 fon, in  cafe  of  a  rupture  between  them,  and  not  upon 
 the  old  ;  and  nothing  being  more  to  the  difadvanrage 
 of  a  young  perfon's  charader,  than  the  reproach  of  an 
 obftinate  or  unfettled  turn  of  mind.  It  would  indeed 
 be  impodible  to  carry  on  the  affairs  of  the  world,  if 
 (Children,   apprentices,  fervants,  and  other  dependents, 
 
 D  4  Vv  ere 
 
 / 
 
40  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book!. 
 
 were  to  fpend  time  in  difputing  the  commands  of  their 
 fuperiors  ;  it  being  in  many  cafes  hard  to  give  an  account 
 of  the  fitnefs  or  unfitnefs  of  things  prefcribed,  and  in 
 many  altogether  improper.  Nor  is  it  lefs  commend- 
 able nor  lefs  graceful  to  obey  cheerfully,  than  to  dired: 
 prudently.  No  perfon  is  likely  to  command  well,  who 
 has  never  learnt  to  obey. 
 
 It  will  be  very  imprudent  in  a  young  perfon  to  take 
 any  material  ftep  in  life,  without  confulting  the  aged 
 and  experienced,  efpecially,  if  poflible,  fuch  as  have 
 had  experience  in  his  way  of  life.  In  one's  choice  of 
 a  friend,  .for  fuch  occafions,  fmoothnefs  of  fpeech  or 
 complalfiince  is  not  to  be  regarded.  On  the  contrary, 
 the  mofl  valuable  friend  is  he,  who  joins  to  a  thorough 
 knowledge  of  men  and  things,  matured  by  age  and  ex- 
 perience, an  open,  blunt,  and  honeft  behaviour  ;  who 
 will  rather  magnify,  than  palliate,  the  faults  and  impru- 
 dences of  his  friend,  to  his  face,  however  he  may  de- 
 fend him  behind  his  back;  and  will  not,  on  account  of 
 the  trifling  hazard  of  difobliging,  fufter  him  to  take  a 
 wrong  ftep,  without  making  an  open  and  honeft  remon-^ 
 ilrance  upon  it. 
 
 There  is  one  particular  confideration,  that  makes 
 afking  the  adyice  of  one's  friends  prudent  and  judicious. 
 It  is — That,  if  it  fliould  fo  happen,  as  it  often  muft,  in 
 fpite  of  one's  utmoft  precaution,  that  his  affairs  fhould 
 take  a  wrong  turn,  he  will  not  only  have  the  lefs  reafon 
 to  reflect  upon  himfelf ;  but  the  mouths  of  others  like- 
 \yife  will  generally  be  flopped  ;  as  he  may  for  the  moil 
 part  have  his  advifers  at  leaft,  from  mere  felf-conceit, 
 to  ftand  up  for  the  prudence  of  his  conduct,  w^hich  was 
 the  confequence  of  their  advice. 
 
 You  will  often  find,  that  in  the  very  propofing  to  your 
 friend  your  difficulty,  you  yourfelf  fhall  hit  upon  the 
 means  of  getting  over  it,  before  he  has  time  to  give  you 
 his  opinion  upon  it.  And  you  will  likewife  find,  that 
 in  advifing  with  a  friend,  a  word  dropt  by  him  Ihali 
 furnifh  you  a  valuable  hint  for  your  condudl,  which  you 
 fhall  wonder  how  you  yourfelf  came  to  mifs. 
 
 It  mull  be  owned,  however,  that  there  are  cafes  in 
 which  no  man  can  judge  fo  well  what  fteps  Ihould  be 
 
 taken 
 
Of  Prudence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  41 
 
 taken  as  the  perfon  concerned  ;  becaufe  he  himfelf  may- 
 know  ieveral  important  particulars  in  his  own  affairs, 
 which  would  make  it  highly  improper  for  him  to  follow 
 the  diredions  another  perfon  might  give,  who  was  not 
 aware  of  thofe  circumflances.  Whoever,  therefore, 
 gives  up  his  judgment,  and  ads  contrary  to  his  owri 
 better  knowledge,  in  compliance  with  the  advice  of  his 
 acquaintance,  or  with  common  cuftom,  is  guilty  of  a 
 weaknefs,  the  confequences  of  which  may  prove  fatal. 
 
 SECT.    II. 
 
 Of  Method  J  Application,  and  proper  Times  for  Bujinefs, 
 Of  Triifting  to  others. 
 
 THERE  is  nothing  that  contributes  more  to  the 
 ready  and  advantageous  defpatch,  as  well  as  to  the 
 fafety  and  fuccefs  of  bufinefs,  than  method  and  regu- 
 larity. Let  a  man  fet  down  in  his  memorandum-book, 
 every  morning,  the  feveral  articles  of  bufinefs  he  has  to 
 do  through  the  day  ;  and  beginning  with  the  firll  per- 
 fon he  is  to  call  upon,  or  the  fir  ft  place  he  is  to  go  to, 
 linifh  that  affair  (if  it  is  to  be  done  at  all)  before  he  be- 
 gins another  ;  and  fo  on  to  the  reft.  A  man  of  bufinefs, 
 ivho  obferves  this  method,  will  hardly  ever  find  himfelf 
 hurried  or  difconcerted  by  forgetfulnels :  And  he  who 
 fets  down  all  his  tran  fad  ions  in  writing,  and  keeps  his 
 accounts,  and  the  whole  ftate  of  his  affairs,  in  a  diitind 
 and  accurate  order,  fo  that  he  can  at  any  time,  by  look- 
 ing into  his  books,  prefently  fee  in  what  condition  his 
 buiinefs  is,  and  whether  he  is  in  a  thriving  or  declining 
 way ;  fuch  a  one,  I  fay,  defervcs  properly  the  charader 
 of  a  man  of  bufinefs,  and  has  a  fair  profped  of  carrying 
 his  fchemes  to  an  happy  ifTue.  But  fuch  exadnefs  as 
 this  will  by  no  means  fuit  the  man  of  pleafure,  who  has 
 other  things  in  his  head. 
 
 The  way  to  tranfad  a  great  deal  of  bufinefs  in  a  little 
 time,  and  with  great  certainty,  is  to  obferve  thefe  rules. 
 To  fpeak  to  the  point.  To  ufe  no  more  words  than  are 
 neceifary  fully  to  exprefs  your  meaning;  and  to  ftudy 
 before-hand,  and  fet  down,  in  writing  afterwards,  a 
 iketch  of  the  tranfadion. 
 
 The 
 
42  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I. 
 
 There  is  one  piece  of  prudence  above  all  others  abfo- 
 luteJy  neceflary  to  thofe  who  exped;  to  raife  themfelves 
 in  the  world  by  an  employment  of  any  kind  j  I  mean  a 
 conilant  and  unwearied  application  to  the  main  purfuit. 
 By  means  of  indefatigable  diligence,  joined  with  fru- 
 gality, v/e  fee  many  people  in  the  lowed  and  moft  la- 
 borious ftations  in  life,  raife  themfeh  es  to  fuch  circum- 
 ilances,  as  will  allow  them,  in  their  old  age,  that  eafe 
 from  labour  of  body  and  anxiety  of  mind,  which  is  ne- 
 cefiary  to  make  the  decline  of  life  fupportable.  I  have 
 heard  of  a  tradefman  who,  at  his  firft  fettingout,  opened 
 and  (liut  bis  {hop  £very  day,  for  feveral  weeks  together^ 
 without  kii'mg  goods  to  the  value  of  one  penny ;  who, 
 by  the  force  of  application  for  a  courfe  of  years,  raifed 
 at  laft  a  handfome  fortune :  And  I  have  known  many 
 who  have  had  a  variety  of  opportunities  for  fettling 
 themfelves  comfortably  in  the  world,  and  who,  for  want 
 cf  ileadinefs  to  carry  any  one  fcheme  to  perfection,  have 
 iiink  from  one  degree  of  wretchednefs  to  another  for 
 many  years  together,  without  all  hopes  of  ever  getting 
 above  diftrefs  and  pinching  want. 
 
 There  is  hardly  an  employment  in  life  fo  mean  that 
 ■will  not  afford  a  fub.liftence,  if  ccnftantly  applied  to : 
 And  it  is  only  by  dint  of  indefatigable  diligence,  that  a 
 fortune  is  to  be  acquired  in  bufinefs.  An  eftategotby  what 
 is  commonly  called  a  lucky  hit,  is  a  rare  initance,  and  he 
 who  expeds  to  have  his  fortune  made  in  that  way,  is 
 much  about  as  rational  as  he  who  fhould  neglect  all 
 probable  means  of  living,  on  the  hopes  that  he  lliould 
 fbme  time  or  other  find  a  treafure.  The  misfortune  of 
 indolence  is.  That  there  is  no  fuch  thing  as  continuing 
 in  the  fame  condition  without  an  income  of  one  kind  oc 
 other.  If  a  man  does  not  beftir  himfelf,  poverty  nuiit 
 overtake  him  at  laft.  If  he  continues  to  give  out  fer- 
 tile neceffary  charges  of  life,  arid  will  not  take  the  pains 
 to  gain  fomewhat  to  fupply  his  out-givings,  his  funds 
 muft  at  length  come  to  an  end,  and  mifery  come  upon 
 him  at  a  period  of  life  when  he  is  leaft  able  to  grapple 
 with  it,  1  mean  in  old  age,  if  not  before. 
 
 The  charader  of  a  lluggard  mult,  I  think,  be  owned 
 to  be  one  of  the  moft  contemptibly.     In  proportion  to 
 
 a  per- 
 
OfPrudcn:e.)  HUMAN  NATURE*.  43; 
 
 a  perfon's  aflivity  for  his  own  good  and  that  of  his  fel- 
 low-creatures, he  is  to  be  reckoned  a  more  or  lefs  valu- 
 able member  of  fociety  :  And  if  ali  the  idle  people  in  a. 
 nation  were  to  die  in  one  year,  the  lofs  would  be  in- 
 confiderable,  in  comparifon  of  what  the  communitymuft 
 fufter  by  being  deprived  of  a  very  few  of  the  aftive 
 and  induftrious.  Every  moment  of  time  ought  to  be 
 put  to  its  proper  ufe,  either  in  bulinefs,  in  improving 
 the  mind,  in  the  innocent  and  neceffary  relaxations  and 
 entertainments  of  life,  or  in  the  care  of  our  fouls. 
 
 And  as  we  ought  to  be  much  more  frugal  of  our  time 
 than  our  money,  the  one  being  infinitely  more  valuable 
 than  the  other,  fo  ought  we  to  be  particularly  watchful 
 of  opportunities,  There  are  times  and  feafons  proper 
 for  every  purpofe  of  life  ;  and  a  very  material  part  of 
 prudence  it  is  to  judge  rightly  of  them,  and  make  the 
 bell  of  them.  If  you  have,  for  example  a  favour  to 
 afk  of  a  phlegmatic  gloomy  man,  take  him,  if  you  can, 
 over  his  bottle.  If  you  want  to  deal  with  a  covetous 
 man,  by  no  means  propofe  your  baiinefs  to  him  imme- 
 diately after  he  has  been  paying  away  money,  but  ra- 
 ther after  he  has  been  receiving.  If  you  know  a  per- 
 fon,  for  whofe  jntcreft  you  have  occalion,  is  unhappy  in 
 his  family,  put  yourfeif  in  his  way  abroad,  rather  than 
 wait  on  him  at  his  own  iioufe.  A  ilatefman  will  not: 
 be  likely  to  give  you  a  favourable  audience  immediately 
 after  meeting  with  a  difappeintment  ia  any  of  his 
 Icheraes,  There  are  even  many  people  who  are  always 
 four  and  ill-humoured  from  their  riling  till  they  have 
 dined.  And  as  in  perfons,  fo  in  things^  opportunity  is 
 of  the  utmoii  confequence.'  The  thorough  knowledge 
 of  the  probable  rife  and  fall  of  merchandize,  the  fa- 
 vourable feafons  for  importing  and  exporting,  a  quick 
 eye  to  fee,  and  a  nimble  hand  to  feize  advantages  as  they 
 tarn  up  ;  thefe  are  the  talents  which  raife  men  from  low 
 to  atHuent  circumftances. 
 
 It  would  be  greatly  for  the  advantage  of  men  of  bu- 
 fmefs,  if  they  made  it  a  rule  never  to  trufl:  anything  of 
 confequence  to  another,  which  they  can  I'y  any  means 
 do  themfelves.  Let  another  have  my  interelt  ever  fo 
 ;puch  at  heart,  I  am  fare  I  have  it  more  myfelf :  And 
 
44  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I. 
 
 jio  fubftitute  one  can  employ  can  underfland  one^s  bu- 
 iinefs  fo  well  as  the  principal,  which  gives  him  a  great 
 advantage  for  doing  things  in  the  bell  w<iy,  as  he  can 
 change  his  meafures  according  to  circumftances,  which 
 another  has  not  authority  to  do.  As  for  dependents  of 
 all  kinds,  it  is  to  be  remembered  always,  that  their  ma- 
 iler's intereft  poffelTes  at  moil  only  the  fecond  place  in 
 their  minds.  Self-love  will  ever  be  the  ruling  prin- 
 ciple, and  no  fidelity  whatever  will  prevent  a  perfon 
 from  bellowing  a  good  deal  of  thought  upon  his  own 
 concerns,  which  muft  break  in,  lefs  or  more,  upon  his 
 diligence  in  confulting  the  intereft  of  his  conftituent. 
 How  men  of  bufinefs  can  venture,  as  they  do,  to  truft 
 the  great  concerns  fome  of  them  have,  for  one  half  of 
 every  week  in  the  year,  which  is  half  the  year,  to  fer- 
 vants,  and  they  expe6t  others  to  take  care  of  their  bu- 
 finefs, when  they  will  not  be  at  the  trouble  of  minding 
 it  themfelves,  is  to  me  inconceivable.  Nor  does  the 
 detedion,  from  time  to  time,  of  the  frauds  of  fuch  peo- 
 ple, feem  at  all  to  deter  our  men  of  bufinefs  from  truft- 
 ing  to  them. 
 
 There  is  indeed  nothing  more  difficult  than  to  know 
 the  characters  of  thofe  we  confide  in.  How  fhould  we 
 imagine  we  can  know  thofe  of  others,  when  we  are  fo 
 uncertain  about  our  own?  What  man  can  fay  of  him- 
 fe]f,  I  never  fhall  be  capable  of  fuch  a  vice  or  weak- 
 nefs  ?  And  if  not  of  hiraleif,  much  lefs  of  another.  Who 
 would  then  needlefsly  truft  to  another^  vv'hen  he  can 
 hardly  be  fure  of  himfelf  ? 
 
 SECT.     III. 
 
 Of  Frugality  and  Economy.     OfProjecls.     OfBiverfions, 
 
 NEXT  to  diligence  and  affiduity  in  bufinefs,  fru- 
 gality and  economy  are  the  moft  necelTary  for 
 him  who  would  raife  himfelf  in  the  world  by  his  own 
 induftry.  Simple  nature  is  contented  with  a  little^  and 
 there  is  hardly  any  employment  which,  if  purfued  with 
 prudence  and  attention,  will  not  yield  an  income  fuffi- 
 cient  for  the  necelTary  ufes  of  life  :  as,  on  the  other 
 band,  no  revenue  is  fo  great  as  to  be  proof  againft  ex- 
 travagance. 
 
OfPnideuce.)       HUMAN  NATURE.  45 
 
 travagance.  Witnefs  the  emperor  Caligidaf  who  in  a 
 few  years  fpent  the  riches  of  the  world,  at  lead  of  the 
 Roman  world  ;  I  mean,  the  immenfe  treafures  his  ava- 
 ritious  predeceffor  Tiberius  had  been  amalling  for  twen- 
 ty-two years,  befides  the  current  revenues  of  the  em- 
 pire; and  found  himfeif  reduced  to  ftraits  from  the  molt 
 exorbitant  riches.  Every  perfon*s  experience  confirms 
 this  truth,  That  thofe  pleafures  of  life  which  colt  the 
 mod  are  the  lead  fatisfadory  and  contrariv/ife.  The 
 noife  of  balls,  plays,  and  mafquersides,  is  tirefome  ;  the 
 parade  of  gilt  coaches,  of  powdered  footmen,  and  of 
 ftate-vifits,  is  fulfome;  while  the  converfation  of  a  wife 
 and  virtuous  friend,  the  endearments  of  a  faithful  wife 
 and  innocent  children,  charity  to  the  indigent,  which 
 none  but  a  good  economiit  can  bellow,  the  purfuit  of 
 ufeful  and  ornamental  knowledge,  the  ftudy  of  virtue 
 and  religion,  thefe  are  entertainments  ever  new  and  ever 
 delightful :  And  if  a  wife  man  may  thus  be  fatisfied. 
 from  himfeif;  if  the  nobleft  pleafures  and  trueft  enjoy- 
 ments are  only  to  be  had  in  our  own  hearts  and  in  our 
 own  houfes,  how  great  is  the  folly  of  mankind,  who  fly 
 from  the  genuine,  the  rational,  the  cheap,  and  eafily-at- 
 tainable  enjoyments  of  life,  in  a  mad  purfuit  after  the 
 imaginary,  expeniive,  and  tirefome  vanities  of  fhew  and 
 oftentation !  Were  the  enjoyments  which  pomp  and 
 grandeur  yield  (fuppQiing  them  unimbittered  with  re- 
 fledions  on  their  fatal  confequences,  which  will  ever 
 be  crowding  into  the  mind,)  infinitely  more  exquifite 
 than  thofe  of  virtue  and  fobriety,  v.'hich  is  the  very 
 contrary  of  the  truth,  a  prudent  man  would  take  care, 
 in  confideration  of  the  fliortnefs  of  life,  how  he  indulged 
 them  to  the  negledl  of  the  ferious  bufinefs  of  life,  or  to 
 the  ruin  of  his  fortune.  Non^  but  a  madman  would 
 lavifn  away  his  whole  patrimony  in  one  feafon,  with 
 the  profpedl  of  poverty  and  mifery  for  the  remainder  of 
 his  days  :  For  he  would  confider,  that  a  life  languiilied 
 out  in  wretchednefs,  or  in  dependence,  would  im- 
 menfely  overbalance  the  pleafure  of  refleding,  that  he 
 had  fpent  one  year  in  hearing  the  fined  mulic,  in  feeing 
 the  polited  company,  in  eating  the  rared  food,  and  in 
 drinking  the  riched  wines  the  world  could  aiTord  :  Nay, 
 -^  he 
 
^6  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book!. 
 
 he  would  forefee  that  the  refledion  upon  pvail  pleafures 
 and  gaieties  would  onlj  render  his  mifery  lo  much  the 
 inore  intolerable.  There  is  not,  indeed,  a  more  deplo- 
 rable caie  than  that  of  a  perfon,  who,  by  his  own  folh^, 
 has  reduced  himfelf  to  beggary  :  For,  befides  the  other 
 diftrefles  he  muft  ftruggle  with,  he  has  the  cruel  flings 
 of  his  own  reflections  to  torture  him,  and  is  deprived  of 
 the  poor  confolation  of  the  fyrapathy  and  compaffion  of 
 his  acquaintance. 
 
 Every  perfon  who  happens  by  uny  means  whatever* 
 though  wholly  out  of  his  own  power  either  to  forefee  or 
 prevent,  to  fink  in  the  world,  may  lay  his  account  with 
 meeting  no  little  contempt  and  ill-afage  from  the  bulk 
 of  his  acquaintance,  and  even  from  tbofe  for  whom  he 
 has  in  his  profperity  done  the  greateft  kindnefles.  But 
 when  it  is  known  that  a  man's  misfortunes  are  owing 
 to  his  own  extravagance,  people  have  too  good  a  pre- 
 tence for  withholding  their  compaffion  or  affiftance, 
 and  for  treating  him  v/ith  neglect  and  contempt.  It 
 "will  therefore  be  a  young  perfon's  wifdom*  before  he 
 goes  too  far,  to  make  fuch  refledions  as  thefe  :  '*  Shall 
 *'  I  lavilh  away  in  vouthful  pleafure  and  folly  the  pa- 
 *'  trimony  that  muft  fupport  me  for  my  whole  life  ? 
 **  Shall  I  indulge  myfelf  in  rioting  and  drunkennefs,  till 
 *•  I  have  not  a  morfel  of  bread?  Shall  I  revel  in  plays, 
 **  balls,  and  mufic-gardens,  till  I  bring  myfelf  to  a  gaol? 
 **  Shall  I  walle  myfubftance  in  regaling  a  let  of  wretches, 
 *'  who  will  turn  their  backs  upon  me  whenever  they 
 *'  have  undone  me  ?  Shall  I  pafs  my  youth  like  a  lord, 
 "  and  be  a  beggar  in  my  old  age  ?" 
 
 There  is  nothing  more  unaccountable  than  the  com- 
 mon pradice  in  our  times  among  that  part  of  the  people 
 who  ought  to  be  the  examples  of  frugality  as  well  as  of 
 induflry,  the  citizens  of  London  ;  I  mean  the  ufual  way 
 of  fetting  out  in  life.  It  feems,  generally  fpeaking,  as 
 if  our  traders  thought  themfelves  in  duty  bound  to  go 
 to  the  utraoft  ftretch  of  expence  which  their  circum- 
 llances  will  afford,  and  even  beyond,  the  very  firft  year 
 of  their  fetting  up.  That  a  young  fhop-keeper  and  his 
 new-married  wife,  whofe  joint  fortunes  would  not  make 
 !ip  live  tboufand  pounds,  ihould  begin  with  lilting  in 
 
 llat§ 
 
OfPrudnKe.)         HUMAN  NATURK.  Al 
 
 Hate  to  receive  company,  keeping  footmen,  carriages, 
 and  country-houfes,  and  awkwardly  mimicking  the  ex- 
 travagances of  the  other  end  of  the  town,  before  they 
 know  how  trade  may  turn  out,  or  how  numerous  a  fa- 
 mily of  children  they  may  have  to  provide  for;  whal 
 can  be  more  prepoiterous  ?  As  if  the  public  had  fo  little 
 difcernment,  as  to  conclude  that  people's  circuir:ftance» 
 were  always  according  to  the  Ihew  ihey  made.  How 
 eafy  is  it  for  any  man  to  increafe  his  expence,  if  he  finds 
 his  income  increafe  ?  And  how  hard  is  it  to  be  obliged, 
 after  fetting  out  in  a  grand  manner,  to  retrench  and 
 lower  the  fails  ?  It  is  not  indeed  to  be  done  in  trade, 
 without  affedling  a  perfon's  credit,  which  accordingly 
 obliges  many  traders  to  go  on  in  the  exorbitant  way 
 they  firft  fet  out  in,  to  their  own  ruin  and  that  of  others 
 who  have  been  engaged  with  them.  In  fome  countries,, 
 infolvency,  where  a  good  account  of  the  caufes  which 
 brought  it  on  cannot  be  given,  is  puniflied  with  death. 
 If  the  law  of  England  were  as  fevere,  what  the  fate  of 
 many  of  the  bankrupt  citizens  oi  London  muil  have  been, 
 every  one  may  judge. 
 
 The  great  confumption  of  private  fortunes  is  owing 
 chiefly  to  thofe  expences  which  are  conftant,  and  run 
 on,  day  after  day,  the  whole  year  round.  .People  do  not 
 feem  to  attend  fufficiently  to  the  confequences  of  the 
 expence  of  one  difh,  or  one  bottle  of  wine  more  than 
 enough  in  their  daily  economy.  Yet  the  faving  of  three 
 or  four  fliillings  a-day  will  amount  to  lixty  or  eighty 
 pounds  in  a  year;  which  fum  faved  up  yearly  for  thirty 
 years,  the  ordinary  time  a  man  carries  on  bufinels,  would 
 amount  to  near  five  thoufand  pounds,  reckoning  inte- 
 reft  ;  and  ftill  more,  if  you  fuppofe  it  laid  out  in  an 
 advantageous  trade. 
 
 If  any  young  gentleman  of  fortune  imagines  the  large- 
 nefs  of  his  income  fufficient  to  render  frugality  and  eco- 
 nomy ufelefs,  a  little  experience  will  (hew  him  to  his 
 coft,  that  no  error  can  be  greater.  The  charge  of  main- 
 taining a  number  of  fervants,  v.^ho  are  to  be  fupported 
 not  only  in  neceifaries,  but  in  all  the  w afte  and  deftruc- 
 tion  they  pleafe  to  make;  the  expence  of  coachmen, 
 footmen,  horfes  and  hounds,  a  tow^n-houfe  and  coun- 
 try- 
 
48  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  L 
 
 try-feat,  is  enormous.     But  if  to  thefe  there  be  added 
 
 the  charge  of  a  miftrcfs,  that  alone  will  furmount  all 
 the  red ;  and  the  expence  of  a  (leward  will  exceed  all  the 
 others  put  together  :  For  as  none  of  the  other  depend- 
 ents upon  a  great  man  have  it  in  their  power  to  do 
 more  than  run  away  with  a  little  of  his  caih,  or  the  pro- 
 vifions  of  his  houfe  from  time  to  time,  they  cannot  ut- 
 terly ruin  him  without  his  own  knowledge :  But  the 
 fteward,  having  the  receiving  and  paying  of  all  in  his 
 own  hands,  may  very  eafily,  in  a  lliort  time,  if  his  ac- 
 counts are  not  looked  into,  appropriate  to  himfelf  the 
 bulk  of  the  eftate,  and  ruin  his  mailer  before  he  has 
 any  fufpicion  of  his  affairs  being  out  of  order. 
 
 It  feems  to  me  very  unaccountable,  that  men  of  for- 
 tune fhould  think  itneceffary  to  go  to  theutmofl:  ftretch 
 of  their  incomes,  and  generally  beyond  them;  when  they 
 mud  find,  that  a  crowd  of  fervants  and  dependents  is 
 but  a  difturbance  to  happinefs,  which  requires  peace  and 
 tranquillity,  and  flies  from  noife  and  oftentation.  Is  it 
 neceiTkry  for  popularity  ?  By  no  means.  Half  the  mo- 
 ney laid  out  for  the  fervice  of  the  public,  or  in  judicious 
 charities,  would  procure  a  gentleman  the  real  efleem 
 and  affedion  of  his  neighbours ;  whereas  the  greateft 
 expence  laid  out  upon  thofe  blood-fuckers,  which  ge- 
 nerally feed  upon  the  great,  does  but  expofe  him  to 
 their  contempt,  who  laugh  in  their  fleeve  to  find  they 
 can  fo  grofsly  gull  him  out  of  his  money. 
 
 The  employing  a  number  of  working  people  in  im- 
 proving barren  grounds,  in  laying  out  plantations,  in 
 raifing  buildings  for  a  continual  incrcafe  of  tenants  upon 
 a  thriving  eftate,  with  the  acquifition  of  new  inhabi- 
 tants, the  encouragement  of  manufadlures,  and  providing 
 for  the  poor  ;  theie  are  the  arts  that  will  gain  a  country- 
 gentleman  more  popularity,  than  keeping  open  houfe  the 
 whole  year  round. 
 
 Let  me  advife  young  people  to  be  particularly  cau- 
 tious of  new  fchemes  or  projeds.  There  is  not  one  of 
 a  hundred  that  ever  fucceeds  at  all ;  nor  one  of  many 
 hundreds  that  bri.ngs  their  inventors  any  thing  but  dif- 
 appointment  and  ruin.  The  reafon  is  pretty  plain.  It 
 requires  a  great  expence  tQ  fet  any  new  fgheme  on  foot. 
 
 The 
 
t)f  Prudence.)  IIUMAN  NATURE,  49 
 
 The  bulk  of  mankind  are  prejudiced  againft  novelties, 
 and  confequently  are  apt  to  oppole  thcin.  The  gMie- 
 rality  of  people  are  iikewife  jealous  of  every  fchemc  that 
 may  any  way  afTcd  their  intereil ;  and  many  from  pure 
 envy,  take  a  pleafure  in  oppofing  and  depreciating  ever;'' 
 new  propofal.  The  contriver  himfclf  is  greatly  at  a 
 lofs,  being  obliged  to  try  various  methods  to  bring  his 
 deficrns  to  bear,  and  to  layout  a  certain  exoence  foraa 
 uncertain  j>rofit.  So  that  we  obferve  accordingly,  who- 
 ever projects  any  thing  new  in  fcience,  in  mechanics, 
 or  in  trade,  feldom  does  more  than  open  the  way  for 
 others  to  profit  by  his  ingenuity. 
 
 What  (hall  be  faid  upon  the  fubjecl  of  pie  a  fa  res  and 
 <liverfions  in  an  age,  in  which  ail. ranks,  fexes,  and  ages 
 run  to  excefs  in  this  refped  ?  And  yet  to  make  the 
 araufements  of  life  the  buiincfs  of  life,  is  abfard  in  any 
 rational  being  who  has  ever  heard  of  a  judgment  to 
 come,  and  who  is  not  ablbkiLely  certain  (which  I  be- 
 lieve hardly  any  one  will  pretend)  that  he  never  fnali 
 be  called  to  give  an  account  of  the  ufe  he  has  made  of 
 bis  time.  But  if  there  be  any  abfurdity  greater  than 
 another,  it  is,  That  a  man  of  buiinefs  flionld  fet  up  foi' 
 a  man  of  taile  and  plcalures :  Yet  we  fee  the  public  di- 
 verlions  of  this  great  city  cro<tded  and  fiipported  chiefly 
 by  the  citizens.  We  fee  thofe  whofe  buiinefs  is  in  town 
 outvying  one  another  in  the  elegancy  of  their  country- 
 houles ;  plays,  bails,  operas,  mAific-gardens,  concerts, 
 reforted  to  by  the  ioweft  mechanics— the  confequences 
 of  which  extravagances  are  bankruptcies  innumerable  ; 
 — not  to  mention  frauds,  robberies,  forgeries,  and  foi 
 forth.  It  is  no  eafy  matter  to  fupport  a  family  in  the 
 molt  frugal  way;  but  when  to  the  ordinary  convenien- 
 ces of  lite,  the  above  extravagances  are  to  be  added, 
 there  is  no  end  of  it  ;  and  the  covetoufnefs  of  a  fpend- 
 thrift  is  incomparably  m.ore  mifchievous  than  that  of  a 
 mifer :  The  latter  will,  at  worll,  t)nly  grind  the  face  of 
 the  poor,  and  take  the  advantap;e  of  all  that  are  lefs 
 cunning  than  himfelf ;  but  the  form.cr  will  not  iiick  at 
 forgery,  robbery^  or  murder. 
 
 At  the  fame  time,  that  it  is  hfirdly  pofTibie  to  fay  too 
 mach  againlt  the  inordinate  purfuit  of  divcrfions,  which 
 
 .E  even 
 
£o  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  L 
 
 even  defeats  its  own  end,  becoming,  through  excefs,  a 
 burden  and  fatigue,  inftead  of  a  relaxation  ;  after  all,  I 
 fay,  that  may  be  urged  againft  this  rei^^ning  folly  of 
 our  times,  I  know  no  juft  reafon  why  a  man  of  bufinefs 
 fliould  deny  himfelf  the  moderate  ufe  of  fuch  innocent 
 amuferaents  as  his  fortune  or  leifure  will  allow  ;  his  for- 
 tune, in  a  confiPicncy  with  fupporting  his  family,  and 
 contributing  to  the  relief  of  the  indigent,  and  his  leifure,- 
 in  a  confiftency  with  the  thorough  knowledge  of  the 
 llate  of  his  own  afl'airs,  and  doing  offices  of  kindnefs  to 
 thofe  about  him.  Some  of  the  mod  innocent  amufe- 
 ments  I  know,  are  reading,  viz.  hiftory,  lives,  geography, 
 und  natural  philofophy,  with  a  very  little  choice  poetry  ; 
 the  converfation  of  a  few  agreeable  friends,  and  drawing, 
 \vhere  there  is  a  genius  for  it.  To  thefe  may  be  added, 
 riding  on  horfeback  once  or  twice  in  a  week,  where  it 
 can  be  done  conveniently. 
 
 Mufic  is  never  fafely  indulged,  where  there  is  too 
 great  a  defire  to  excel  in  it ;  for  that  generally  draws 
 people  into  an  expence  of  time  and  money,  above  what 
 the  accompliihment,  carried  to  the  greateit  length,  is 
 worth. 
 
 As  for  cards,  and  all  other  ways  of  gaming,  they  are 
 the  ruin  of  rational  converfation,  the  bane  of  fociety^ 
 and  the  curfe  of  the  nation. 
 
 S  E  C  T.    IV. 
 
 'Of  Over-trading.  Of  Integrity  prudentially  conjidered. 
 Of  Credulity.  Oj  prudent  ConduEi  in  cafe  of  a  reverfe 
 of  Fortune.  Of  the  different  Characlers  of  Men j  and 
 boiv  to  apply  them. 
 
 THERE  is  one  error  in  the  condu6l  of  the  indu- 
 ftrious  paft  of  mankind,  whofe  effedis  prove  as 
 fatal  to  their  fortunes  as  thofe  of  fome  of  the  firll  vices, 
 though  it  is  generally  the  moil  adive  and  the  ableft 
 men  who  run  into  it :  I  mean,  over-trading.  Profufion 
 itfelf  is  not  more  dangerous ;  nor  does  idlenefs  bring 
 more  people  to  ruin,  than  launching  out  into  trade  be- 
 yond their  abilities.  The  exuberant  credit  given  in 
 trade,  though  it  is  fometimes  of  advantage,  efpecially 
 ■     '    "  to 
 
Of  Prudence.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  p 
 
 people  whofe  capitals  are  fmall,  is  yet  pertiaps  upon  the 
 whole  more  detrimental  than  a  general  diffidence  would 
 be.  For  a  young  trader  to  take  the  utmoft  credit  he 
 can  have,  is  only  running  the  utmoft  rifque  he  can  run. 
 And  if  he  would  confider,  that  as  others  truft  him  to  a 
 great  extent,  he  muft  lay  his  account  with  trufting  thofe 
 he  deals  with  to  a  great  value  likewife  ;  and  that  confe- 
 quently  he  muft  run  a  great  many  hazards  of  his  own 
 payments  falling  fliort,  and  that  the  failure  or  difap- 
 pointment  of  two  or  three  confiderable  fums  at  the  fame 
 time,  may  difable  him  from  making  his  payments  regu- 
 larly, which  is  utter  ruin  to  his  credit;  if,  I  lay,  a 
 young  trader  were  to  confider  in  this  manner  the  con- 
 fequence  bf  things,  he  would  not  think  the  offer  of  large 
 credit  To  much  a  fivour  as  a  fnare ;  efpecially  if  he 
 likewife  reftecled,  that  whoever  otlers  him  large  credit, 
 and  for  long  time,  without  fufficient  fecurity,  will  think 
 he  has  a  right  to  charge  a  very  conliderable  profit  upon 
 the  commodities  he  fells  him  ;  and  confequently  the  ad- 
 vantage he  can  gain  by  them,  muft  be  too  inconlider- 
 able  to  make  up  for  the  riHc  he  muft  run.  The  tra- 
 der who  gives  and  takes  large  credit,  efpecially  if  he  has 
 large  concerns  in  foreign  parts,  and  is  not  polTefled  of  a 
 very  conliderable  fortune,  muft  be  liable  to  fuch  ha- 
 zards, and  fuch  terror  and  anxiety,  that  I  (honld  think 
 a  very  moderate  profit  arifing  from  trading  fafely,  and 
 within  a  reafonable  compafs,  much  the  moft  eligible.  I 
 know  but  one  fort  of  trade  in  which  large  credit  might 
 be  fafely  taken,  viz.  vVhere  one  could  quickly  make  fales 
 of  large  quantities  of  goods  for  ready  money;  and  in 
 fuch  a  trade,  to  take  credit  when  one  might  buy  to 
 greater  advantage  for  ready  money,  would  be  very 
 ybfurd. 
 
 There  is  no  fubjecl  which  men  of  bufinefs  ought  to 
 have  ottener  in  their  view,  than  the  precarioufnefs  of  hu- 
 man affairs.  In  order  to  the  fuccefs  of  any  fcheme,  it 
 is  necelTary  that  every  material  circumftance  take  place; 
 as,  in  order  to  the  right  going  of  a  vvat<:h  or  clock,  it  ia 
 neceifary  that  every  one  of  the  wheels  be  in  order.  To 
 fucceed  in  trade,  it  is  neceffary  that  a  man  be  poifeffed 
 of  a  large  capital;  that  he  be  well  qualified  (which 
 
 E  2  alone 
 
Cz  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Bookt 
 
 alone  comprehends  a  great  many  particulars)  •,  that  his 
 integrity  be  unialpcded  ;  that  he  have  no  enemies  to 
 "blaft  his  cr'edit ;  that  foreign  and  home  markets  keep 
 nearly  according  to  his  expectations;  thatthofe  he  deals 
 with,  and  credits  to  any  great  extent,  be  both  as  honefl: 
 dhd  as  fufBcient  as  he  believes  them  to  be;  that  his 
 funds  never  fail  him  when  he  depends  on  them  ;  and 
 that,  in  fnort,  every  tiling  turn  out  to  his  expeclation. 
 But  furely  it  muft  require  a  very  great  degree  of  that 
 fanguine  temper,  fo  common  in  youth  to  make  a  man 
 perfuade  himfelf  that  there  is  no  manner  of  hazard  of 
 his  finding  himfelf  deceived  or  difappointed  in  fomeone 
 among  fo  many  particulars.  Yet  we  commonly  fee  in- 
 flances  of  bankruptcies,  Avhere  a  trader  lliall  have  gone 
 to  the  extent  of  perhaps  ten  times  the  value  of  his  ca- 
 pital ;  and  by  means  of  large  credit,  and  railing  money 
 with  one  hand,  to  pay  with  the  other,  has  fupported 
 himfelf  upon  the  effecls  of  other  people,  till  at  length 
 fome  one  or  other  of  his  laft  fhifts  failing  him,  down  he 
 finks  with  his  own  weight,  and  brings  hundreds  to  vu'ui 
 with  him. 
 
 Upon  the  head  of  over-trading,  and  haftening  to  be 
 rich,  I  cannot  help  making  a  remark  on  the  condud: 
 of  many  traders  of  large  capitals,  who,  for  the  fake  of 
 adding  to  a  heap,  already  too  great^  monopolize  the  mar- 
 ket, or  trade  for  a  profit  which  they  know  dealers  of 
 fmailer  fortunes  cannot  pofHbly  live  by.  If  fuch  men 
 really  think,  that  their  railing  ihemfelves  thus  on  the 
 ruin  of  others  is  jul^ifiable,  and  that  riches  g6t  in  this 
 manner  are  fairly  gained,  they  muft  either  have  ne- 
 gledled  properly  informing  their  eonfciences,  or  muft' 
 have  liilied  their  remonflrances.  ■'^^''  ' ' 
 
 Whoever  would  thrive  in  trade,  let  him  take  care, 
 above  all  things,  to  keep  up  to  ftrici:  integrity.  If  a 
 trader  is  once  known  to  be  guih;^of  taking  exorbitant 
 profits,  or  other  unfair  advantages  of  thofe  he  deals 
 with,  there  is  an  end  of  his  character :  And  unlefs  a 
 man  can  get  a  fortune  by  one  tranfadion,  it  is  madnefs 
 in  prudentials  to  hazard  his  whole  reputation  at  once  : 
 And  even  if  he  could,  giving  his  ibul  for  an  eftate  would 
 be  but  a  loUng  trade.     But  vf  this  more  hereafter. 
 
 When' 
 
Of  Prudence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  53 
 
 When  it  happens  that  one  is  folicited  to  lend  money, 
 or  interpofe  his  credit  for  any  perfon  in  difficulties,  the 
 light  way  is,  to  make  fure  either  thiit  the  fum  furniflied 
 or  engaged  for,  be  fuch  as  he  can  lay  his  account  with 
 Jofing,  without  any  material  detriment  to  his  affairs,  or 
 that  lie  have  an  unexceptionable  fecurity  in  his  hands. 
 The  confequences  of  lending  money,  or  being  fecurity 
 for  others,  generally  prove  the  lofs  of  both  money  and 
 friend  :  For  people  are  commonly  at  the  lad'  pinch 
 when  they  come  to  borrowing,  and  it  is  not  an  incon- 
 iiderable  iura  that  will  keep  them  from  linking  :  And 
 the  demand  of  payment  feldom  fails  to  occahon  dilgull: 
 between  friends.  The  bed  method  1  know  for  fupport- 
 ing  a  man  of  merit  in  diftrefs,  is  for  a  let  of  three  or 
 .four,  or  more,  according  to  the  occafion,  to  conti  ibute 
 xonjundly,  fo  that  the  lofs  being  divided,  if  it  fnould 
 prove  a  lofs,  may  not  prcve  fatal  to  any  one  concerned. 
 And  if  in  this,  o,r  any  other  prudent  way,  one  can  do  a 
 fervice  in  a  time  of  need  to  a  perfon  of  merit,  one  ought 
 always  to  rejoice  in  the  opportunity;  and  he  will  be 
 highly  to  blame  who  negleds  it.  But  as  there  is  infi- 
 nite craft  and  knavery  among  mankind,  let  me  advife 
 young  people  to  beware  of  the  common  weaknefs  that 
 period  of  life  is  generally  fubjed:  to,  I  mean  credulity.  . 
 The  m.oil  open-hearted  are  the  mod  liable  to  be  im- 
 pofed  upon  by  the  deligning  ;  though  one  would  think 
 a  man's  knowing  his  own  inten-lions  to  be  fuicere  and 
 honeft,  fhould  be  no  reafon  for  his  concluding  every  one 
 he  meets  to  be  of  the  fame  charader. 
 
 There  is  no  certain  method  of  avoiding  the  fnares  of 
 the  crafty  :  But  it  would  be  a  good  cuitom  if  men  of 
 buiinefs  made  it  their  ufual  pradice,  in  all  their  deal- 
 ings, where  it  is  pradicable,  to  draw  up  in  wri:ing  a 
 minute  or  m.emorial  of  every  tranfadion,  fubfcribed  by 
 both,  with  a  claufe  fignifying,  that,  in  cafe  of  any  dif- 
 ference, they  fliould  both  agree  to  fubmit  the  aiattei:  to 
 arbitration :  For  it  is  very  common  for  a  deiigning  perfon, 
 in  makiiig  an  agreement,  to  take  no  notice  of  the  rea- 
 ionable  and  natural  confequenc-es  of  an  advantageous 
 conceffion  ;  but  to  put  off*  the  perfon  be  wants  to  take 
 an  advantage  of,  Vvith  a  general  phrafe,  as,  IVeJhantfall 
 
 £  3  •         oiit^ 
 
54  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I 
 
 out ;  /  ajfurc  you  I  mean  you  'well ;  /  wori't  ivro?)g  you  : 
 and  fuch  like:  And  when  accounts  come  to  be  lettied, 
 and  the  party  who  thinks  himielf  aggrieved   declares, 
 
 that  he  made  the  bargain  altogether  with  the  profpecSt 
 of  having  fnch  and  fuch  advantages  allowed  him  ;  N'o, 
 
 fays  the  fliarper,  I  never  told  you  I  would  :  Though  it 
 is  the  very  fame  to  all  intents  and  purpoies  of  deceiving, 
 as  if  he  had  exprefsly  confented  to  it ;  yet  the  unhappy 
 fufferer  muft  fit  down  with  the  lofs,  becaufe  he  can 
 only  fay  he  was  deceived  by  infinuationSj  and  not  by  a 
 dired  fraud  within  the  reach  of  the  law.  One  cannot 
 therefore  be  too  exacl  in  making  contrails  ;  nor  is  there 
 indeed  any  fafety  in  dealing  with  deceitful  and  ava- 
 ritious  people,  though  one  thinks  he  ufes  the  utmofl 
 precaution. 
 
 It  will,  I  believe,  generally  be  found  of  good  ufe,  if] 
 order  to  underftand  the  real  fentiments  of  mankind,  and 
 to  difcover  when  they  have  any  indired  defign,  to  ob^ 
 ferve  carefully  their  looks.  There  is  fomething  in 
 knavery  that  will  hardly  bear  the  infpedion  of  a  pierc- 
 ing eye:  And  you  will  generally  obferve  in  a  fliarper 
 an  unileady  and  confuled  look.  Afid  if  a  peribn 
 is  perfuaded  of  the  uncommon  fagacity  of  one  he  is 
 to  appear  before,  he  will  hardly  be  able  to  muiler  up 
 enough  of  impudence  and  artifice  to  bear  him  through 
 without  faltering.  It  will  therefore  be  a  good  way  to 
 try  one  whom  you  fuipefl  ot  a  defign  upon  you,  by  fix- 
 ing your  eyes  upon  his,  and  by  bringing  up  a  fuppofition 
 of  your  having  to  do  with  one  whofe  integrity  you  fuf- 
 pe^ed,  and  what  you  would  do  in  fuch  a  cafe.  If  the 
 perfop  you  are  talking  with  be  really  what  you  fufpect, 
 
 ,  he  will  hardly  be  capable  of  keeping  his  countenance; 
 
 S  One  ought  always  to  fufped:  men  remarkably  avari- 
 tious.  Great  love  of  m.oney  is  a  great  enemy  to  ho-- 
 nefty.  The  aged  are  more  dangerous  than  young  peo- 
 ple. They  are  more  defirous  of  gain,  and  know  more 
 indired:  ways  of  coming  at  it,  and  of  outwitting  others, 
 than  the  young.  It  will  be  your  wifdom  to  be  cau- 
 tious of  all  fuch;  and  of  thofe,  who  in  an  affecled 
 manner  bring  in  religion  on  all  occafions,  in  feafon 
 and  out  of  feafon  ;  of  ail  fmooth  and  fawning  peo- 
 ple;- 
 
OfPntrimcc.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  55 
 
 pie ;  of  thofe  who  are  very  talkative,  and  who,  in 
 dealing  with  you,  endeavour  to  draw  otryonr  attention 
 from  the  point  in  hand,  by  a  number  of  incoherent  re- 
 tiedions  introduced  at  random,  and  of  the  extremely 
 fufpicious;  for  it  is  generally  owing  to  a  confcioufneis 
 of  a  defigning  temper,  that  people  are  apt  to  fufpecl 
 others.  If  ever  you  hear  a  perfon  boall  of  his  having 
 got  any  exorbitant  advantage  in  his  dealings,  you  may, 
 generally  fpeaking,  conclude  fuch  a  one  not  too  rigo- 
 roufly  honeft.  It  is  feldom  that  a  great  advantage  is  to 
 be  got,  but  there  mult  be  great  difadvantage  on  the 
 other  lide.  And  whoever  triumphs  in  his  having  got  by 
 another's  lofs,  you  may  eafily  judge  of  his  character. 
 
 There  is  a  fort  of  people  in  the  world,  of  v^hom  th^ 
 young  and  unexperienced  Itand  much  in  need  to  be 
 warned.  They  are  the  fanguine  promifers.  They  may 
 be  divided  into  two  forts.  The  firft  are  thofe,  who, 
 from  a  foolilh'cullom  of  fawning  upon  all  thofe  they 
 come  into  company  with,  have  learned  a  habit  of  pro- 
 mifing  to  do  great  kindnefies,  which  they  have  no 
 thought  of  performing.  The  other  are  a  fort  of  warm 
 people,  who,  while  they  are  iavilhing  away  their  pro- 
 mifes,  have  really  fome  thoughts  of  doing  what  they 
 engage  for.  But  afterwards,  when  the  time  of  per- 
 formance comes,  the  fanguine  fit  being  gone  otF,  the 
 trouble  or  expence  appears  in  another  light ;  the  pro- 
 mifer  cools,  and  the  expedant  is  bubbled,  and  perhaps 
 greatly  injured  by  the  difappointmento 
 
 When  it  fo  happens,  as  it  will  often  unavoidably,  in 
 fpite  of  the  greatell  wifdom,  and  the  flrictell  integrity 
 of  conduct,  that  a  man  of  buiinefs  has  reaion  to  think 
 he  cannot  long  iland  it,  but  muft  make  a  Hop  of  pay- 
 ments, it  will  be  his  wifdom  to  call  together  his  credi-% 
 tors,  to  let  them  know  the  (iate  of  his  atfairs  before  they 
 come  to  the  worft  ;  and  gain,  by  an  honeil  and  l^irii  far-  ' 
 render  of  all,  that  forbearance  and  favour,  which  are  a!r 
 ways  readily  granted  on  fuch  occalions.  The  longer  a 
 bad  atTair  of  that  kind  goes  on,  it  grows  the  worfe ;  the 
 conftant  expence  of  living  diminilhes  the  funds ;  the 
 accounts  btcome  the  more  involved,  and  more  and  more 
 bad  debts  fink  the  value  of  the  unfortunate  man's  ellate. 
 
 E  4  Nor 
 
5^  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I. 
 
 Nor  is  fiich  a  misfortune  lb  extvemeiy  formidable,  where 
 a  trader  can  make  it  appear,  that  neither  grofs  raifma- 
 nagement,  nor  indirecl  conduft  have  occaiioned  it.  On 
 the  contrary,  it  has  often  happened,  that  a  trader  has, 
 by  fliewing  a  lingular  degree  of  honefty  and  difintcrefl- 
 ednefs  on  lltch  an  occalion,  fo  won  the  compaffion  and 
 efteem  of  his  creditors,  that  they  have  not  only  allowed 
 him  time  to  make  up  his  affairs,  but  have  even  given 
 him  fuch  encouragement,  and  done  him  fuch  kindnefies, 
 as  have  enabled  him  to  raile  himielfj  by  his  induPiry,  to 
 circumftances  he  was  not  likely  ever  to  have  arrived  at. 
 If  a  trader  wilt  flounder  on  fiom  misfortune  to  misfor- 
 tune, in  hopes  of  getting  clear  by  fome  lucky  hit,  he 
 iTJufi:  be  content  to  take  the  confequences;  but  prudence 
 will  direifl  to  build  no  expedations  on  any  fcheme,  for 
 the  fuccefs  of  which  one  has  not  many  different  pioba-. 
 bilities,  in  cafe  of  the  failure  of  one  or  two.      '  ' 
 
 In  cafe  of  ban'.ruptcy,  or  otherwife,  when  an  unfor- 
 tunate trader,  through  the  lenity  of  his  creditors,  is  dif- 
 charged,  on  giving  up  his  effeds,  and  paying  as  far 
 as  they  will  go,  there  is  not  the  leaft  pretence  for 
 queitioning,  whether  he  is  obliged  to  make  up  the  de- 
 ficiency, if  ever  it  fhould  be  in  his  power.  If  every 
 man  is  in  juftice  obliged  to  make  fail  payment  of  all  he 
 owes,  there  is  no  doubt  but  in  this  cafe  there  is  the 
 fame  obligation,  or  rather  indeed  a  (Ironger ;  becaufe 
 the  creditors  have  quitted  part  of  what  they  had  a  le- 
 gal claim  to,  and  have  thereby  laid  him  under  an 
 obligation  to  do  them  juftice,  if  ever  it  fhould  be  in  his 
 power. 
 
 The  fuccefs  of  bufinefs  being  fo  extremely  precarious, 
 it  is  a  very  confiderable  part  of  prudence  to  take  care 
 4^"what  fort  of  people  one  is  concerned  with.  One  would 
 not  choofe  to  take  credit  of  an  av^atitious  and  cruel  man, 
 left  it  fiKudd  happen,  by  an  unlucky  run  of  trade,  that 
 one's  aftairs  fliould  go  into  confuhon,  and  one  ftiould 
 fall  under  the  power  of  fuch  a  perfon  ;  becaufe  one 
 could  expect  nothing  from  fuch  a  creditor  butthemoft 
 rigorous  treatment  the  law  would  allow. 
 
 The  knovv'Iedge  of  human  nature,  the  connexion  be- 
 tween men's  general  characters  and  their  rcfpedlive  be- 
 havior r„ 
 
Of  Prudence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  57 
 
 haviour,  and  the  prudence  of  ufing  mankind  according 
 to  their  dilpofitions  and  circumflances,  (o  as  to  gain 
 one's  laudable  deligns  by  them,  is  a  very  important  part 
 of -condufl:. 
 
 A  mifer,  for  example,  is  by  no  means  a  proper  perfon 
 .  to  apply  to  for  a  lavour  that  will  coil  him  any  thing. 
 But  if  he  be  a  man  of  any  principle,  he  will  make  an 
 excellent  partner  in  trade,  or  arbitrator  in  a  difpute 
 about  property  :  For  he  will  condefcend  to  little  things, 
 and  ftickle  for  trities,  which  a  generous  man  would 
 fcorn. 
 
 A  paffionate  man  will  fly  into  a  rage  at  a  trifling  af- 
 front ;  but  he  will,  generally  fpeaking,  foon  forget  the 
 diibbiigation,  and  will  be  glad  to  do  any  fervice  in  his 
 power  to  make  it  up  with  you.  It  is  not  therefore  by 
 far  fo  dangerous  to  difobiige  fuch  a  one,  as  the  gloomy, 
 fullen  mortal,  who  hardly  ieems  difpieafed,  and  yet  will 
 wait  feven  years  for  an  opportunity  of  doing  you  a  mif- 
 chief.  Again,  a  cool  flow  man  is,  generally  fpeaking, 
 the  fitted  to  advife  with  ;  but  for  defpatch  of  buiincis, 
 make  ufe  of  the  warm,  fanguine  temper. 
 
 An  old  man  will  generally  give  you  the  bed  advice; 
 but  the  young  is  the  fittell  for  bu filing  for  your  intereft. 
 There  are  fome  men  of  no  character  at  all ;  but  take  a 
 Dew  tindure  from  the  laft  company  they  were  in.  It  is 
 not  fafe  \o  have  any  thing  to  do  with  fuch. 
 
 Some  men  are  wholly  ruled  by  their  wives,  and  molt 
 men  a  good  deal  influenced  by  them  ;  as  in  matters  of 
 the  economy  and  decorum  of  life  it  is  tit  they  fbould.  It 
 will  therefore  be  prudent,  generally  f]:)eaking,  to  ac- 
 commodate one's  fchemes  to  the  humour  of  both  par- 
 ties, when  one  is  to  enter  into  important  concerns  with, 
 a  married  man. 
 
 It  is  in  vain  to  look  for  any  thing  very  valuable  in  the 
 mind  of  a  covetous  man.  Avarice  is  generally  the  vice 
 of  abjedl  fpirits  ;  as  extravagance  often,  not  always,  of 
 generous  minds.  Men,  who  have  a  great  talent  at  get- 
 ting of  money,  mod:  commonly  have  no  other  ;  and  you 
 may  for  the  moft  part  take  it  for  granted,  that  the  man, 
 who  has  raifed  exorbitant  wealth  from  nothing,  has  been 
 
 too 
 
^  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  T, 
 
 too  much  engaged  in  the  purfuit  of  riches,  to  mind  his 
 own  improvement,  or  any  thing  befides  money. 
 
 A  bully  is  generally  a  coward.  When  therefore  one, 
 happens  unluckily  to  have  to  do  with  fuch  a  one,  the  heft 
 7A'ay  is  to  make  up  to  hira  boldly,  and  anfwer  him  with 
 firmnefs ;  if  you  (bcw  the  lealt  fign  of  fubmiffion,  he 
 %viil  take  the  advantage  of  it  to  uie  you  jlj. 
 
 A  boafter  is  to  be  fufpeded  in  all  he  fays^  Such  men 
 have  a  natural  infirmity,  which  makes  them  forget  what 
 they  are  about,  and  run  into  a  thoufand  extravagances, 
 which  have  no  connedion  with  truth.  Their  aiTertioi^^^ 
 their  profeffions,of  friendlhip,  their  promifes,  and  their 
 tLreatenings,  go  for  nothing  with  men  of  underl^anding 
 and  knowledge  of  the  world.  They  are  by  no  means 
 to  be  trufted  with  a  fecret.  If  they  do  not  difcover  it 
 from  vanity,  they  will  through  levity.  There  is  the 
 fame  danger  in  truUing  the  man  who  loves  his  bottle, 
 and  is  often  difojdeied  with  liquor. 
 
 A  meek-tempered  man  is  not  the  proper  perfon  to  fo- 
 licit  bufin^efs  for  you  :  his  modefty  will  be  eafily  con- 
 founded. Nor  is  the  man  of  pafilon,  nor  the  talkative 
 man  :  the  firft  will  be  apt  to  be  put  put  of  temper,  and 
 the  other  to  forget  himfelf,  and  blunder  out  fomewhat 
 that  may  be  to  the  prejudice  of  the  ncgociation.  The 
 fittell  cha^ader  to  be  concerned  with,  is  that  in  which 
 are  united  an  inviolable  integrity,  founded  upon  rational 
 principles  of  virtue  and  religion,  a  cool  but  daring  tem- 
 per, a  friendly  heart,  a  ready  hand,  long  experience^ 
 and  exteniive  knowledge  of  the  world,  with  a  folid  re- 
 putation of  many  years  ftanding,  and  eafy  circum=^ 
 /lances. 
 
 A  man's  ruling  paflion  is  the  key  by  which  you  may 
 let  yourfelf  into  his  charader,  ^nd  may  pretty  nearly^ 
 guefs  at  his  future  conduct,  if  he  be  not  a  wi^  or  a  fool ; 
 for  they  ad  chiefly  from  caprice.  There  are  likewife 
 connedions  between  the  different  parts  of  men's  charac- 
 ters, which  it  will  be  ufeful  for  you  to  ftudy.  If  you 
 find  a  man  to  be  cowardly,  for  example,  you  may  fuf- 
 ped  him  to  be  cruel,  deceitful,  and  fordid.  If  you 
 know  another  to  be  hafty  and  paffionate,  you  may  ge? 
 
 neraily 
 
Oj  Prudence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  59 
 
 nerally  tal<e  it  for  granted,  that  he  is  open  and  artlefs ; 
 and  ib  on.     But  the(e  rules  admit  of  exceptions. 
 
 There  are  fix  Ibrts  of  people,  at  whofe  hands  you 
 need  not  expect  much  kindnefs.  The  fordid  and  nar- 
 row-minded, think  of  nobody  but  their  noble  felves. 
 The  lazy,  will  not  take  the  trouble  to  ferve  you.  The 
 bufy,  have  not  time  to  think  of  you.  The  over-grown 
 rich  man,  is  above  minding  any  one  who  needs  his  aHift- 
 ance.  The  poor  and  unhappy,  has  neither  fpirit  nor 
 ability.  The  good-natured  fool,  however  willing,  is  not 
 capable  of  lerving  you. 
 
 In  negociating,  there  are  a  number  of  circumflances 
 to  be  confidered,  the  neglect  of  any  of  which  may  de- 
 feat your  whole  fcheme.  Firft,  the  fex.  Women,  ge- 
 . nerally  fpeaking,  are  naturally  diffident  and  timorous  ; 
 not  admirers  of  plain  undifguifed  truth;  apt  to  be 
 fliocked  at  the  leaft  defect  of  delicacy  in  the  addrefs 
 of  thofe  who  approach  them  ;  fond  of  new  Ichemes  ;  if 
 frugal,  apt  tp  deviate  into  fordid  narrownefs ;  almod 
 univerfaily  given  to  fliew  and  finery  ;  eafily  influenced 
 by  inconfideralile  motives,  if  fuitable  to  their  humour  ; 
 and  not  to  be  convinced  of  the  propriety  of  your  propo- 
 fal,  fo  much  by  folid  reafoning,  as  by  lome  witty  or 
 liFeJy  manner  of  offering  it ;  once  difplealed  and  always 
 cold  ;  if  wicked  enough  to  be  revengeful,  will  Hick  at 
 nothing  to  accomplifli  it.  But  this  laft  is  an  uncommon 
 ch^rader. 
 
 The  age  of  the  perfon  you  are  to  deal  with  is  alfo  ta 
 be  confidered.  Young  people  are  ealily  drawn  into  any 
 fcheme,  merely  for  its  being  new,  efpecially  if  any  cir- 
 cumilance  in  it  fuits  their  vanity  or  love  of  pleafure. 
 They  are  as  ealily  put  out  of  conceit  with  a  propofal 
 by  the  next  perion  they  converfe  with.  They  are  not 
 good  counfellors  :  but  are  very  fit  for  adion,  where  you 
 prefcribe  them  a  track,  from  which  they  know  they  are 
 not  to  vary,  which  ought  always  to  be  done.  For  youth 
 is  generally  precipitate  and  though tlefs.  Old  age,  on 
 the  contrary,  is  (low,  but  fure  ;  cautious,  generally,  to 
 a  degree  of  fufpicioufnefs  ;  averie  to  new  fchemes  and 
 ways  of  life  ;■■  generally  inclining  toward  covetoufnefs  ; 
 fitter  to  confLiit  with,  than  to  act  for  you  \  not  to  be 
 
 won 
 
fSo  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I, 
 
 won  by  fair  fpeeches,  or  convinced  by  long  rcafonings; 
 tenacious  of  old  opinions,  curtoms,  and  formalities ;  apt 
 to  be  dilobliged  with  thofe,  efpecially  younger  people, 
 V.  ho  pretend  to  queflion  their  judgment ;  fond  of  de- 
 ference, and  of  being  liftened  to.  Young  people  in 
 their  anger  mean  lefs  than  they  fliy  ;  '.old  people  more. 
 You  may  make  it  up  with  moit  young  men  j  old  people 
 are  generally  flow  in  forgiving.  ' 
 
 I'he  proper  time  of  addrciiing  a  perfcn,  upon  an 
 affair  of  any  confequence,  is  to  be  carefully  confidered. 
 Wait  on  a  courtier,  when  he,  or  any  friend,  whole  in- 
 tereil  he  efpoufes,  is  candidate  for  fome  place  or  prefer- 
 ment. He  will  not  then  venture  to  give  you  a  flat  de- 
 nial (however  he  may  gull  you  with  promifes],  for  fear 
 you  Ihould  have  it  in  your  power  to  traverfe  his  defign. 
 Or  when  he  has  jufl:  had  fuccefs  in  fome  of  his  fchemes; 
 for,  being  then  in  good  humour,  he  may  give  you  a 
 more  favourable  reception.  Do  bulinefs  with  a  phieg- 
 snatic,  flow  man,  after  he  has  drank  his  bottle  ;  for  then 
 his  heart  is  open.  Treat  with  a  gay  man  in  the  morj^-n 
 |ng ;  fcr  then,  if  ever,  his  head  is  clear, 
 
 SECT,    V. 
 
 Of  the  Regard  due  to  the  Opinion  of  others.     Of 
 Quarrels. 
 
 THERE  is  a  weaknefs  very  common  among  the  be^ 
 fort  of  people,  which  is  very  prejudicial,  to  wit ; 
 letting  their  happinefs,  depend  too  much  upon  the  opi- 
 nion of  others.  It  is  certain  there  is  nothing  more  con- 
 temptible than  the  good  or  bad  opinion  of  the  multi- 
 tude. Other  people  lie  under  fuch  difadvantages  for 
 coming  at  our  true  charaders,  and  are  fo  often  mifled 
 by  prejudice  for  or  againft  us,  that  it  is  of  very  little 
 confequence  whether  they  approve  our  condud,  if  our 
 ovv'n  confcience  condemns  us,  or  whether  they  find 
 fault,  if  we  are  fure  we  acled  fiom  honell  motives, 
 and  with  a  view  to  worthy  ends.  But  indeed,  if  it 
 were  worth  while  to  endeavour  to  pleafe  mankind,  it  is 
 naturally  impradicable  ;  for  the  moil:  part  are  fo  much 
 governed  hy  fancy,  that  what  will  win  their  hearts  to- 
 day 
 
OfFrudence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  5s 
 
 day,  will  difguft  them  to-morrow ;  nnd  the  ininioura 
 and  prejudices,  which  rule  them,  are  fo  various,  and  fo 
 oppofite,  that  what  will  pleafe  one  feet  or  party,  will 
 thoroughly  diffatisfy  the  contrary. 
 
 A  wife  man,  v/hen  he  hears  of  reflections  made  upon 
 him,  will  confider  if  they  are  juft  or  not.  If  they  are, 
 he  will  correcH:  the  faults  takeh  notice  of  publicly  by 
 an  enemy,  as  carefully  as  if  they  had  been  hinted  to 
 him  in  private  by  a  friend.  He,  who  has  in  himfelf 
 wherewith  to  correal  his  errors,  has  no  reafon  to  be 
 iineafy  at  finding  them  out ;  but  the  contrary. 
 
 When  one  has  had  information  of  his  being  ill  nfed 
 by  another  behind  his  back,  it  is  firft  of  ail  necelTary 
 to  know  with  the  utmoft  certainty,  the  exact  truth  of 
 what  was  faid,  and  the  manner  and  probable  delign  of 
 the  fpeaker.  Otherwife  the  confequence  may  be,  that, 
 after  you  have  exprefTed  your  r.?fentment,  you  may  find 
 the  whole  was  falfe,  or  not  worth  your  notice,  which 
 laft  is  general!}^  the  cafe.  And  then  you  are  obliged 
 to  own  you  went  too  far,  fo  that  the  other  then  thinks 
 himfelf  the  ofiended  perfon.  And  very  few  of  man- 
 kind know  what  it  is  fincerely  and  from  the  heart  to 
 forgive,  even  after  the  moil  abje6l  fubmilTion. 
 
 He  who  fets  up  for  forgiving  all  injuries,  will  have 
 nothing  elfe  to  do.  He  who  appears  to  be  weak,  will 
 be  ofiea  impofed  on.  And  he  vrho  pretends  to  extra-: 
 ordinary  fhrewdnefs.  invites  deceivers  to  try  their  talent 
 upon  him.  Therefore  a  little  fpirit,  as  well  as  much 
 fagacity,  is  necefFary,  to  be  upon  even  terms  with  the 
 World, 
 
 If  "you  can  bring  yourfelf  either  not  to  liften  to  flan- 
 ders  againf^  yourlelf ;  not  to  believe  that  they  were 
 uttered  ;  to  perfuade  yourfelf  that  the  perfon  who 
 uttered  them,  was  out  of  humour  at  the  time,  or  was 
 drunk,  or  that  he  did  not  fo  much  mean  to  prejudice 
 you,  as  to  divert  the  company  ;  that  he  was  impofed 
 upon  with  refpedl  to  your  charader ;  or  that  he  is  to 
 be  pitied  and  forgiven  ;  if  you  can  bring  yourfelf  to 
 any  of  thefe,  you  may  make  yourfelf  eafy,  and  rife 
 above  fcandal  and  malice.  And  if  you  flionld  make  a 
 matter  of  law,  or  of  life  and  death,    of  every  idle  fur- 
 
 mifb 
 
62  'tllE  DIGNITY  OF  (Bobk  t: 
 
 raife  againfl:  you,  you  will  not  be  a  whit  the  more  fecure 
 from  fcandal ;  but  the  contrary.  Nothing  will  fo 
 efFet^ually  keep  you  under  cover  from  the  ftrife  of 
 tongues,  as  a  peaceable  difpoiition,  loving  retirement 
 and  obtcurity,  and  averfe  to  meddling  with  the  affairs 
 of  others. 
 
 It  is  very  difficult  to  interfere  in  other  people's  quar- 
 rels or  concerns  of  any  kind,  without  fuffering  from  it 
 one  way,  or  other.  The  wifeft  men  are  always  thei 
 molf  cautious  of  fuch  interpolitions;  well  knowing  how 
 little  good  is  to  be  done,  and  what  a  rifk  one  runs. 
 Kven  when  advice  is  aiked,  it  is  very  often  without  any 
 intention  of  following  it.  And  the  only  contequence 
 of  giving  one's  fentiments  freely,  is  difobliging. 
 
 Tiie  proper  temper  of  mind  for  accommodating  a  dif- 
 ference, if  one  has  any  regard  either  to  prudence  or 
 humanity,  is  by  no  means  a  fpiteful,  a  revengeful,  or  a 
 four  humour.  For  fuch  a  behaviour  will  only  widen 
 the  breach,  and  inflame  the  quarrel.  At  the  fame  timcj 
 it  will  not  be  prudent  to  appear  difpofed  to  put  up 
 with  any  terms,  or  drop  the  affair  in  difpute  at  any  rate, 
 though  that  is  often  the  bed  that  is  to  be  done. 
 
 When  one  has  to  do  with  a  bad  man,  he  may  think 
 himfelf  well  off,  if  he  fuffers  but  a  little  by  him,  -and  be 
 thankful  that  he  has  got  clear  of  him.  For  fuch  a  one 
 will  go  lengths  againll  a  confcientious  perfon,  which  he 
 dares  not  to  go  in  his  own  defence. 
 
 It  is  vain  to  think  of  doing  any  thing  by  letters 
 toward  clearing  up  a  point  in  difpute.  One  hour's  con- 
 verfation  will  do  more  than  twenty  letters.  They  are 
 ticklifli  weapons,  and  require  to  be  handled  with  the 
 greatefl:  caution. 
 
 On  the  prefent  head  of  differences  and  quarrels,  it 
 inay  not  be  amifs  juit  to  touch  upon  the  fubiecl  of 
 duels,  ari fmg  from  a  falfe  notion  of  the  point  of  honour. 
 True  honour  does  not  coniift  in  a  wafpifh  temper  or  a 
 difpoiition  to  make  a  matter  of  bloodlhed  of  every  trifle; 
 but  in  an  invincible  attachment  to  truth  and  virtue,  in 
 fpite  of  fear,  lliame,  or  death  irfelf.-  And  if  it  be  bettes: 
 to  flatter  a  fool,  than  light  him  ;  if  it  be  wifdom,  of  two 
 evils  to  choofe  the  leaft  -,  aod  if  the  conlideration  of  the 
 
 atrocious 
 
OfPrndence.)         I-HJIMA.N  NATURlT.  C^ 
 
 atrocious  wickednefs  of  throwing  away  life,  and  rufii- 
 ing  into  the  prefence  of  our  Ahuighty  Judge  in  the 
 very  adt  of  infulting  him,  without  opportunity  for  re- 
 pentance, had  its  due  weight  with  people,  one  would 
 think  they  would  contrive  any  way  of  fettling  difputes, 
 rather  than  with  the  fvvord.  If  a  perfon  has  committed 
 a  flight  injury  againlt  me,  where  lies  the  prudence,  or 
 the  common  fenfe,  of  giving  him  an  opportunity  of  in- 
 juring me  ftill  worfe  ;  1  mean  by  taking  my  lite  ? 
 
 I  greatly  approve  the  condudt  of  an  Engli/b  officer  in 
 Tlanders,  whole  example  may  ferve  as  an  univerfal  mo- 
 del. That  gentleman,  having  received  a  challenge 
 from  another,  refufed  to  be  the  caufe  of  the  fhedding  of 
 either  his  own,  or  another' s  blood,  cold.  The  challen- 
 ger polled  him  for  a  coward  ;  he  polled  the  other  for  a  liar. 
 The  challenger  threatened  to  cane  him.  He  told  him,  he 
 wouldllandonhisown  defence.  The  challenger  attacked 
 him.  He  received  him  with  a  blow  of  a  cudgel  on  the 
 head,  which  laid  him  fpruwling.  He  recovered,  drew, 
 and  made  an  ill-direcled  pafs  at  the  pacific  gentleman, 
 who  received  him  on  the  point  of  his  fword  ;  which 
 ended  the  quarrel.  The  gentleman's  courage  being 
 well  known,  and  the  whole  attair  being  public,  it  was 
 brought  in  manllaughter. 
 
 SECT.     VI, 
 
 Of  Marriage. 
 
 IT  is  one  of  the  greateft  unhappineiTes  of  our  times 
 that  matrimony  is  fo  much  difcountenanced  ;  That 
 in  London,  and  in  other  great  cities,  fo  many  never 
 marry  at  all,  and  that  the  greateit  part  have  got  into 
 the  unhappy  and  unnatural  way  of  wafting  the  bed 
 years  of  their  lives  in  purfuit  of  a  giddy  round  of  vain 
 amufements  and  criminal  pleafures  (if  any-  thing  crimi- 
 nal can  be  called  a  pleafure);  looking  upon  the  married 
 (late  as  the  end  of  ail  the  happinefs  of  life,  whereas  it  is 
 in  truth,  when  entered  into  with  prudence,  only  the  be- 
 ginning. How' do  we  accordingly  fee  our  youth  go  on 
 to  thirty  or  forty  years  of  age,  without  ever  thinking  of 
 fettling  in  life,  as  becomes  Chriftians  and  members  of 
 fociety,  till  at  lair,   being  fated  and  cloyed  with  lawlefs 
 
64  THE  DIGNiTY  or  (Book!, 
 
 love,  avarice  drives  them  to  feek  the  alliance  of  a  wealthy 
 family,  or  dotage  pius  them  upon  mifapplying  that 
 facred  inPtitiuion  to  the  moil  fordid  purpofes. 
 
 The  advantage  of  early  marriage,  both  to  the  com- 
 munity and  to  particulars,  and  the  mifchiefs  which 
 might  thereby  be  prevented,  are  not  to  be  exprefled. 
 It  is  therefore  my  advice  to  all  my  young  readers,  i  hat. 
 they  enter  into  the  marriage-ftate  as  ibon  as  they  find 
 therafelves  fettled  in  a  likely  way  of  fupporting  a  fa- 
 mily. And  I  can  proraife  them,  upon  the  general  ex-' 
 perience  of  all  prudent  and  good-natured  men,  that,  if 
 they  make  a  judicious  choice,  the  only  thing  they  vjiW 
 have  occaiion  to  repent  of,  will  be,  that  they  did  not 
 enter  into  that  date  fooner ;  and  that  they  will  find  it  as 
 much  beyond  the  happiell  fingle  life,  as  eafe  and  afflu- 
 ence are  beyond  the  narroweft  circumftances.  Indeed, 
 what  can  be  conceived  more  perfedl,  in  an  imperfect 
 Rate,  than  an  infeparable  union  of  interefts  between 
 two  perfons,  Vt?ho  love  one  another  with  fmcerity  and 
 tendernefs  ;  who  mutually  defire  to  oblige  one  another; 
 and  who  can  with  the  utmoft  freedom  unbofora  to  ore 
 another  all  their  joys  and  all  their  griefs,  whereby  the 
 one  may  be  doubled  and  the  other  divided  ?  If  friend- 
 fnip  hr»3  afforded  matter  for  fj  many  commendations,' 
 v.'orked  up  vi'-ith  innumerable  figures  of  rhetoric,  whur. 
 may  not  be  faid  of  that  mod  perfedt  of  all  friendfnipp, 
 which  fubfifts  between  married  perfons? 
 
 i  do  not  deny,  that  there  are  women,  whofe  rsatural 
 tempers  are  fo  unhappy,  that  it  is  not  eafy  to  live  with" 
 them  ;  nor  that  the  ladies  of  our  times  give  themfeives. 
 up  too  generally  to  an  idle  and  expenlive  manner  of 
 life,  to  the  great  detriment  of  oeconomy,  and  the  vexa- 
 tion of  prudent  mafters  of  families  :  but  it  muft  be  owned, 
 at  the  fame  time,  that  the  greated  number  of  unhappy 
 hufbands  have  themfeives  chiefly  to  thank  for  whaf 
 they  fuffer.  If  a  man  will  be  fo  weak,  as,  for  the  fake 
 of  either  beauty  or  fortune,  to  run  the  defperate  hazard 
 of  taking  to  his  bofom  a  fury,  or  an  idiot ;  or  if  he  will 
 fuffer  a  woman,  who  m.ight,  by  gentle  and  prudent 
 ways,  be  reclaimed  from  her  follies,  to  run  on  to  ruin, 
 v/ithout  having  the  fpirit  to  Vi-arn  her  of  the  confequen- 
 
 ces; 
 
OfPrudence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  6^ 
 
 ces  ;  or  if,  inilead  of  endeavouring^,  by  the  humane 
 methods  of  remonib'ance  and  perlualion,  joined  Avitli 
 the  endearments  of  conjugal  afre^iion,  which  a  woman 
 muft;  be  a  mcnfter  to  leiid  ;  1  fay,  if  inftead  of  endea- 
 vouring by  mild  and  affectionate  methods  to  fliew  her 
 the  error  and  bad  confequences  of  her  manner  of  life,  a 
 man  will  refolve  to  carry  things  with  a  high  hand,  and 
 to  ufe  a  woman  of  natural  ienfc,  birth,  and  fortune, 
 every  way  equal  to  himfelf,  as  a  Have,  or  a  fool,  it  is  no 
 vs^onder  that  his  remonilances  are  ineffectual,  and  that 
 domeftic  peace  is  interrupted,  and  oeconomy  fubverted. 
 
 It  is  not  the  mod  exquilite  beauty,  the  moil  fprightly 
 wit,  or  the  largeft  fortune,  nor  all  three  together,  nor 
 an  hundred  other  accomplifliments,  if  fuch  there  were, 
 that  will  make  a  man  happy  in  a  partner  for  life,  who 
 is  not  endowed  with  tho  two  principal  accomplifhments 
 of  good-fenfe  and  good-nature.  If  a  woman  has  not 
 common  fenfe,  fiie  can  be  in  no  refpect  a  fit  companion. 
 for  a  reafonable  man.  On  the  contrary,  the  whole  be- 
 haviour of  a  fool  muft  be  difgufting  and  tirefom.e  to 
 every  one,  that  knows  her,  efpecially  to  a  hufl^and, 
 who  is  obliged  to  be  more  in  her  company  than  any 
 one  elfe,  who  mutl  therefore  fee  more  of  her  folly  than 
 any  one  elie,  and  muft  fuffer  more  from  the  fliam.e  of 
 it,  as  being  more  nearly  connected  with  her  than  any 
 other  perfon.  If  a  w^oman  has  not  fome  fmall  [bare  of 
 fenfe,  what  means  can  a  hufband  ufe  lo  fct  her  right  in 
 any  error  of  condudl,  into  many  of  v.'hich  Ilie  will  na- 
 turally run  ?  Not  reafon,  or  argument :  for  a  fool  is 
 proof  againft  that.  And  if  {lie  has  not  a  little  good- 
 nature ;  to  attempt  to  advife  her^  will  be  only  arguing 
 with  a  tempelf,  or  rouling  a  fury. 
 
 If,  between  the  two  married  perfons,  there  be  upon 
 the  whole  enough  for  a  com.fortable  lubliftence  accord- 
 ing to  their  ilation  and  temper  of  mind,  it  fignifies  very 
 little  whether  it  comes  by  one  iide,  or  the  other,  or  both. 
 Nothing  is  more  abiurd,  than  that  it  (hoaid  feem  of 
 fuch  importance  in  the  judgment  of  many  people,  that 
 a  gentleman  make  a  match  luitable  to  himfelf,  as  tliey 
 often  very  improperly  call  it ;  by  which  they  mean, 
 that  he  is  ia  duty  bound  to  hnd  out  a  ladv  noffeff^d  of 
 
 IT  ^  a 
 
66  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Boot  t 
 
 a  fortune  equal  to  his  own,  though  what  he  has  already 
 may  be  more  than  fuHicient  for  fupportingthe  rank  he  is 
 born  in.  The  confequences  of  this  mercenary  way  of 
 proceeding,  are  only  the  accumulating  more  and 
 more  materials  for  luxury,  vanity,  and  oftentation,  the 
 perveriion  of  the  inftitution  of  marriage,  which  was 
 for  the  mutual  fupport  and  comfort  of  the  parties,  into 
 a  mere  affair  of  bargain  and  fale  ;  the  alienating,  or 
 cooling  the  afFed:ions  of  the  parties  for  one  another,  by 
 fliewing  each  of  them,  that  the  union  was  not  entered 
 into  by  the  other  on  account  of  any  perfonal  regard?;^ 
 but  from  mercenary  motives  only  ;  and  the  feparation, 
 infiead  of  the  union  of  interefts.  It  is  no  wonder,  that 
 fuch  marriages  prove  unhappy ;  and  that  each  fliould 
 look  upon  the  other  as  a  clog  annexed  to  the  fortune, 
 which  was  the  principal  objed  each  aimed  at,  and  fiiould 
 therefore  mutually  wifu  one  another  well  oat  of  the  way. 
 
 1  do  not  here  mean  to  infinuate,  that  every  woman 
 of  fortune  mull;  df  courfe  be  good  for  nothing.  Bat 
 thkt  a  man  in  afHuent  circumftances  is  much  to  blame, 
 ^vho,  for  the  fake  of  adding  to  an  heap,  already  too  large, 
 enters  into  an  engagement,  to  which  inclination  does 
 not  lead  him,  and  deprives  himfelf  of  an  opportunity  of 
 gaining  and  fixing  the  affedions  of  a  virtuous  and  amia- 
 ble perfon,  raifed  by  him  to  a  rank  above  her  expecta- 
 tions, and  thereby  infpired,  if  Ihe  is  not  wholly  void  af 
 goodnei's,  with  fuch  a  fenfe  of  gratitude  to  her  bene- 
 factor, as  muil  influence  ail  her  adions. 
 
 On  the  other  hand,  nothing  is  more  dreadful  than 
 the  profped  thofe  people  have,  who  from  romantic 
 love  run  precipitately  into  an  engagement,  that  muft 
 hold  for  life,  without  confidering  or  providing  for  the 
 confequences.  Two  young  perfons,  who  hurry  into 
 marriage,  without  a  reafonable  profped  of  an  income 
 to  fupport  them  and  their  family,  are  in  a  condition  as 
 wretched,  as  any  I  know  of,  where  a  guilty  confcience 
 is  out  of  the  queilion.  Let  a  man  confider  a  little, 
 when  he  views  the  objed  of  his  paffion,  to  whom  he 
 longs  to  be  united  by  a  iacred  and  indiflbluble  bond, 
 how  he  will  bear  to  fee  thofe  eyes,  every  glance  of 
 which  m^ikcs  his  heart  bound  Witn  joy,  drowned  in 
 
 tears^ 
 
Of  PriHence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  eY 
 
 tears,  at  the  thought  of  mifery  and  poverty  com!bg  upon 
 her;  how  he  will  bear  to  fee  that  face,  whufe  fmiie  re- 
 joices his  foul,  grown  pale  and  haggard  through  anguifh 
 of  mind  ;  or  how  he  will  bear  to  think  that  the  off- 
 fpring,  Ihe  is  going  to  bring  forth,  is  to  be  born  to 
 beggary  and  mifery.  If  young  people  confidered  ma- 
 turely  the  fearful  confequences  of  marriage,  where 
 there  is  no  profpedl  of  a  proper  provifion,  and  where 
 the  anguifh  of  poverty  will  be  the  more  intolerable,  the 
 more  fincere  their  affedions  are ;  they  would  not  run 
 headlong,  as  we  often  fee  them,  into  mifery  irretrievable. 
 
 It  may  often  happen,  that  the  family  and  connexions 
 with  which  a  woman  is  engaged,  may  alone  be  of  more 
 advantage  to  a  man  than  a  fortune  ;  as  on  the  other 
 hand,  it  may  happen,  that  a  woman  of  fortune,  may  be 
 fo  given  to  expence,  or  may  bring  v,'ith  her  fuch  a  tribe 
 of  poor  relations,  as  thrice  the  income  of  her  fortune 
 j  would  not  be  fufficient  to  maintain.  In  either  ot  thefe 
 cafes,  a  man's  prudence  is  to  diredt  him  to  make  that 
 choice  which  will  be  the  bell  upon  the  whole. 
 
 It  is  a  fatal  error  in  the  conduft  of  many  young  peo- 
 ple in  the  lower  ranks  of  life,  to  make  choice  of  young 
 women,  who  have  been  brought  up  in  indolence  and 
 =\iiety,  and  are  not  poffefTed  of  fortunes  fuitable  the  man- 
 lier of  life  they  have  been  aecullomed  to.  The  proba- 
 ble confequence  of  fuch  matches  is  great  and  remedilefs 
 mifery.  For  fuch  women,  having  nerer  been  praclifed 
 in  the  oeconomy  of  families,  are  incapable  of  applying 
 themfelves  with  that  attention  and  affiduity*  much  lefs 
 condefcenlion,  to  the  meaner  parts  of  houfehold  affairs^ 
 which  is  abfolutely  neceliary,  where  the  income  is  but 
 moderate.  If  a  young  trader's  gains  are  but  fmal],  and 
 his  helpf-raate  neither  brings  in  any  thing  to  the  com~ 
 nion  iiock,  nor  knows  hovv'  to  make  the  moll  of  a  little, 
 ;nd  at  the  fame  time  there  is  a  profpect  of  a  numerous 
 tamily  of  children  coming  on,  with  the  cafuaiities  of 
 icknefs,  a  decay  of  trade,  and  fo  forth,  the  man,  who 
 hnds  himfeif  involved  in  fuch  a  fcene  of  troublts,  may 
 jLiUly  be  looked  upon,  as  among  the  molt  v.retched  of 
 fiiortals. 
 
 F  2  Thofe 
 
€8  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Boot  t 
 
 Thofe  marriages,  in  fhort,  are  likely  to  be  crowned 
 with  all  the  happinefs  this  (late  admits  of,  where  a  due 
 regard  is  had  to  the  qualities  of  the  mind,  to  perfonal 
 endowments,  as  an  agreeable  appearance,  and  a  fuitabie 
 age,  and  to  prudential  conficierations  ;  and  where  either 
 the  one  or  the  other  is  neglcded,  milery  is  the  confe- 
 quence  to  be  looked  for. 
 
 There  is  no  care  or  diiigence  too  much  to  ufe,  nor 
 any  inquiry  too  curious  to  be  made,  before  one  engages 
 for  life.  In  an  unhappy  marriage,  every  little  occur- 
 rence, every  trifling  c  ire  urn  (lance,  calls  to  remembrance 
 the  wretchednefs  of  the  ilate,  and  the  happinefs  one  has 
 miffed  by  makhig  an  injudicious  choice  ;  as,  on  the  con- 
 trary, in  an  happy  union,  no  accident  is  too  trifling  ta 
 pafs  without  furnidiing  fomevvhat  to  give  pleafure  or 
 entertainment,  which  muff  be  heightened  by  being  mu- 
 tual. Let  young  people,  therefore,  be  advifed,  above 
 ail  things  to  be  careful  what  choice  they  make.  And 
 that  they  may  be  cffedually  divefted  of  all  prejudices, 
 and  attachments  in  favour  of  any  perfbn,  whofe  outward- 
 appearance,  fortune,  birth,  or  other  circumftance^  fe- 
 parate  from  the  endovt'ments  of  the  mind,  may  be  apt 
 to  miflead  them,  let  them  confider  the  eharader  of  the' 
 objecl,  abitraclly  from  the  glare  of  beauty,  or  the  luftre 
 of  fortune,  and  then  be  true  to  themfelves,  and  act  the 
 part  which  the  judicious  and  impartial  approve  of. 
 
 Let  a  young  gentleman  obferve,  before  he  allows  his 
 affeclions  to  fix  upon  a  particular  objed,  what  figure 
 and  charader  (he  bears  in  the  world  ;  whether  others 
 admire  her,  as  well  as  himfelf ;  efpecially,  whether  the 
 cool  and  judicious,  and  elderly  people  approve  her  cha- 
 
 xader,  conduct,  and  all  circumllances,  as  well  as  the 
 young,  the  thoughtlefs,  and  paflionate.  The  bloom  of 
 beauty  will  foon  wither;  the  glitter  of  riches,  and  the 
 farce  of  grandeur,  will  quickly  become  infipid  ;  nor 
 ■will  any  thing  earthly  giv^e  peace  to  the  wretch  wha 
 has  taken  a  ferpent  into  his  bofom,  whofe  fling  he  feels 
 every  moment  in  his  heart. 
 
 During  the  time  of  courtfiiip,  though  a  m.an  mull 
 lefolve  to  put  on  a  fmooth  and  engaging  behaviour,, 
 there  is  no  neceility,  nor  is  it  expeded  by  the  reafona- 
 
 bi3 
 
Of  Prudence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  6^ 
 
 ble  part  of  womankind,  that  the  dignity  of  the  nobler 
 fex  fhoLild  be  laid  afiJe,  and  the  lover  debafe  himfelf 
 from  a  man  of  fpiiit,  to  a  flave  or  a  fycophant.  Oa 
 the  contrary,  it  is  abfoluteiy  neceflary,  if  people  are  re- 
 folved  to  confult  the  happinefs  of  the  marriage-ftate,  to 
 behave  to  one  another  in  courtfliip,  in  fuch  a  manner 
 that  neither  may  have  reafon  to  reproach  the  other  with. 
 having  aded  a  deceitful  and  unworthy  part.  For,  if 
 mutual  love  and  Ctleern  be  the  very  cement  of  matrimo- 
 nial happinefs,  and  if  it  be  impoffible  to  love  and  elleern. 
 a  perfon,  who  has  deceived  and  impofed  upon  one,  how 
 cautious  ought  both  parties  to  be,  before  entering  into 
 fo  clofe  an  union,  of  doing  what  may  tend  to  leffeii 
 their  mutual  love  and  efteem  for  one  another  ? 
 
 Nor  is  there  lefs  prudence  requiiite  for  prefervingthe 
 happinefs  of  the  marriage-ftate,  than  for  eftabiilliing  i£ 
 at  firft.  When  it  happens,  as  it  will  unavoidably  at 
 times,  that  the  hufband,  or  wife,  is  a  little  out  of  hu- 
 mour, it  will  be  highly  imprudent  for  the  other  to  infift 
 upon  reafoning  the  matter  out,  or  deciding  the  point  in 
 qucftion,  at  that  time.  The  difpute  ought  to  be  let 
 alone,  at  leaft  till  fome  time  afterwards,  or,  if  poffible, 
 dropped  entirely.  It  may  even  be  proper  often  to  give 
 up  a  point,  and  agree,  (contrary  to  one's  own  judgment) 
 to  what  is  advanced  by  the  other  ;  which  vvili  fheWj 
 that  one  does  not  oppofe  from  mere  perverfenefs ;  but 
 on  good  grounds. 
 
 Again,  if  one  happens  to  be  in  a  thoughtful,  or  feri«» 
 ous  mood,  it  mad  be  very  injudicious  in  the  other  to 
 put  on  a  very  gay  behaviour  ;  and  contrariwife.  Mar- 
 ried people  ought  to  think  nothing  trifling,  or  of  fmall 
 •confequence,  that  may  pleafe  or  difgutl  one  another. 
 They  ought  to  watch  one  another's  looks  ;  to  (ludy  one 
 another's  tempers  ;  to  fly  to  oblige  one  another  ;  and 
 to  be  afraid  of  the  blowing  of  a  feather,  if  it  has  the 
 leaft  chance  to  difpleafe.  For,  while  the  hufband  con- 
 fuits  his  wife's  fatisfadion,  he  is  ftudying  to  promote 
 his  own  happinefs,  and  fo  of  the  wife.  Cleanlinefs, 
 drefs,  complaifance  ;  every  little  piece  of  obfequioufneis 
 and  tendernefs ;  confulting  one  another  upon  every 
 trifle,   however  obvious ;  commendations  of  one  ano- 
 
 F  3  ther'? 
 
^o  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I. 
 
 therms  judgment  or  tafte,  if  exprefled  with  addrcfs,  and 
 without  the  appearance  of  flattery ;  yielding  every 
 point,  if  poffible,  before  there  be  time  to  difpute  it ; 
 thefe  are  the  arts  by  which  love  is  kept  alive  for  life. 
 
 Too  great,  and  too  conllant  fondnefs  and  indulgence 
 will  fometimes  be  found  to  lelTen  atfeclion,  as  it  may 
 make  the  fmaileft  occafional  remifliun,  or  change  of  be- 
 haviour, be  conftrued  into  coldjiefs.  Even  the  conftant 
 prefence  6i  married  perfons  together,  where  there  is  nq 
 opportunity  of  longing  for  the  light  of  on£  another, 
 may  occalion  indifference.  So  delicate  is  the  paffion  oi' 
 lovCf  and  fo  ealily  cooled  I 
 
 SECT.     VII. 
 
 Of  the  Management  of  Children, 
 
 CHILDREN  being  the  ufual  confequence  of  mar-^ 
 riage,  it  h  natural  in  this  place  to  fay  foraething 
 on  the  conduct  that  is  neceffary  for  bring  them  up  tQ 
 maturity,  and  fettling  them  in  the  world. 
 
 It  is  certain,  that  wha<t  very  ilrongly  affecls  the  mo- 
 thery  will  like  wife  often  produce  amazing  elfeds  both 
 upon  the  body  and  the  mind  of  the  infant  in  her  womb. 
 If  therefore  a  man  does  not  choofe  to  have  a  monfter, 
 an  idiot,  or  a  fury  born  to  him,  he  ought  to  take  the 
 utmoft  care,  that  his  pregnant  wife  be  kept  as  much  as 
 poffible  from  the  fight  of  uncouth  objects,  and  from 
 whatever  may  terrify  her,  or  rufile  her  temper.  Indeed 
 the  diftrefs  a  weak  woman  unc^ergoes  in  that  condition 
 is  fuch,  that  none  but  a  favage  could  find  in  his  heart 
 to  heighten  it  by  ill  iffage. 
 
 The  child  being  brought  into  the  world,  the  care  of 
 its  health  lies  wholly  upon  the  mother.  And  that  mo- 
 ther, who,  according  to  the  prefcnt  polite  cuftom,  more 
 barbarous  than  any  that  prcvtuls  among  the  brutes, 
 turns  her  own  offspring  over  to  the  care  of  a  mercenary 
 liurfe,  on  any  pretence  but  abfolute  neceffity,  ought 
 not  to  be  furorifed,  if  her  child  grows  up  with  a  dif- 
 eafed  conftitution,  or  a  depraved  difpofition,  theefteds 
 of  fucking  the  bread  of  an  unhealthy  or  ill-tempered 
 wom^n  f  or  if  its  tender  limbs  be  diflorted,  its  facuiticis 
 
 flupiiied^ 
 
<:)fPfttdence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  7^ 
 
 liupiiied,  or  its  days  fliortened  by  gin,  opium,   or  God- 
 frey's Cordial^. 
 
 Wiioevcr  would  h?.ve  healthy  and  hardy  children, 
 muft  not  oniy  live  temperately  themielves,  but  mufl: 
 talje  care,  that  their  children,  efpecially  in  their  infancy, 
 be  kept  from  all  manner  of  grofs  lood,  as  meat  and 
 fauces,  and  be  allowed  to  indulge  very  fparingly  in 
 fweat-meats,  but  by  no  means  to  touch  ilrong  liquors. 
 With  every  bit  of  the  one,  or  fip  of  the  other,  an  infant 
 fwaliows  the  feeds  of  a  variety  of  fpecics  of  difeafe?. 
 Por  it  being  impofTible  that  the  fiomach  qf  a  child 
 fliould  be  (Irong  enough  to  digeft  what  thofe  cf  growa 
 .people  cannot,  without  prejudice  to  their  confiitutions, 
 and  ihortening  of  their  davs,  it  \s,  plain,  that  fuch  fub- 
 itances  mufi  turn  to  crudities,  which  mull  mix  wirk 
 and  corrupt  the  whole  mafs  of  blood.  If  a  child  is 
 never  ufed  to  indulgence  in  his  refpecf,  he  .will  {\a^qx  no- 
 thing from  the  refufal  of  what  is  not  fit  for  him.  For 
 he  will  be  jufi:  what  he  is  made  by  habit  and  cuftom. 
 
 From  the  time  a  child  begins  to  fpeak,  to  four  or  live 
 years  of  age,  is  the  proper  period '  for  breaking  and^ 
 forming  his  temper.  If  that  important  work  is  not  done 
 within  this  time,  it  is,  in  moft  children,  not  to  be  done 
 at  all.  For  the  mind  quickly  acquires  a  degree  of  ob- 
 flinacy  and  untradablenefs,  that  is  not  to  be  conquered 
 by  any  methods  which  tender  parents  can  bring  them- 
 feives  to  ufe.  And  habits  once  rooted,  are  not  to  be 
 eradicated  but  by  very  violent  means. 
 
 Of  all  the  follies,  which  fliew  themielves  in  innume- 
 rable different  ways,  in  the  condudl  ot  our  weak  and 
 (hoit-lighted  fpecies,  there  is  none  that  is  more  general, 
 that  goes  more  extravagant  lengths,  or  proves  more 
 fatal,  than  that  which  appears  in  the  partiality  of  fond 
 parents  for  their  children.  To  love  our  offspring  with 
 the  utmoil  tendernefs,  to  labour,  to  wilh,  and  to  pray 
 for  their  real  good,'  is,  no  doubt,  our  indiipenlable  duty. 
 But  to  fhut  our  eyes  againft  their  faults,  or  to  refolve  not 
 to  corred:  them  for  fear  of  giving  a  little  pain  ;  to  effe- 
 ^linate  and  enervate  their  fpirits  by  fondling  them  ;  to 
 
 F  4  grant 
 
 *  A  common  cuftom  with  indiiurioiis  nuiTes,  to  quiet  the  children  corn-, 
 pitted  tC;  their  care,  that  they  may  in  the  mean  timegoon  with  other  buiiiiefs. 
 
-72  THE  DIGNITY  O?  (Beck  T 
 
 grantto  their  importunity  what  we  ought  on  all  accounts 
 to  refute  ;  to  hurt  their  conftitutions  by  indulging  them, 
 in  what  is  improper  for  them  ;  to  neglect  the  cultiva- 
 tion of  their  minds  with  ufcful  knowledge,  through 
 fear  of  overburdening  their  faculties  ;  and  above  all, 
 to  be  fo  weak  as  to  let  them  know  our  weaknefs  ;  if 
 there  he  any  infirmity  beyond  this,  it  mull  be  fomewhat 
 I  have  never  heard  of. 
 
 Ey  that  time  people  come  to  be  parents,  it  is  to  be 
 expecled  they  fliould  be  pail  the  folly  of  youth,  the 
 ufual  excufe  for  the  next  greateft  weaknefs  of  human 
 nature,  I  mean  romantic  love.  But  we  fee  every  day 
 inftances  to  the 'contrary ;  parents  indulging  their  chil- 
 dren in  every  v»'rong  tendency,  and  even  delighted  with 
 that  very  obiiinacy,  and  thofe  very  follies,  which  they 
 cannot  but  think,  muft  one  day  make  both  them  and 
 their  children  unhappy;  allowing  themfelves  to  be  over- 
 come by  their  felicitations,  to  grant  them  what  they 
 know  muil  prove  hurtful  to  them;  and  withholding 
 from  them,  at  their  deiire,  what  they  know  is  their 
 greateft  good.  • 
 
 A  proof  of  the  mifchiefs  arifing  from  fondnefs  for  chiI-> 
 dren,  is,  That  we  find  by  experience,  the  fools  in  a 
 great  family  are  generally  the  eldelt  and  youngeft,  whofe 
 fate  is  commonly  to  be  moil  doted  on.  Thofe  in  the 
 middle,  who  pafs  negleded,  are  commonly  found  to 
 turn  out  bcit  in  life.  Natural  fons,  foundlings,  and 
 out-cafts,  often  make  their  way  better  in  the  world,  by 
 their  own  induftry,  vvith  little  or  no  education,  than 
 thofe  W'ho  ha,ve  been  brought  up  in  effeminacy  and  ex- 
 travagance, and  with  expedations  of  a  fortune;  whole 
 education  is  by  thofe  means  in  a  great  meafure  defeated. 
 
 If  you  obferve  your  child  given  to  falfehood,  one  of 
 the  worft  tendencies  that  can  difcover  itfelf  in  a  young 
 mind  (as  implying  a  kind  of  natural  bafenefs  of  Ipirit), 
 the  point  in  view  muft  be,  to  endeavour  to  raife  in  him 
 fuch  a  lenfe  of  honour,  as  may  fet  him  above  that  bafe 
 pradice.  For  this  purpofe,  it  may  be  proper  to  exprefs 
 the  utmoft  aftonifliment  upon  the  firft  information  of  his 
 tranfgveffing  that  way;  to  feem  to  difbelieve  it,  and  to 
 puniih  him  rather  with  fiiame  and  the  lofs  of  your 
 
 favour. 
 
Cf  Prudence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  »jf 
 
 favour,  than  any  other  way;  and  if  you  can  raife  in  him 
 a  fenfe  of  fhame,  you  will  quickly  habituate  him  to  take 
 care  of  falling  into  fliameful  adions.  A  turn  to  pilfering 
 of  play-things,  or  fvveet-meats,  is  to  be  treated  in  the  fame 
 manner;  as  is  alfo  a  dilpofition  to  tricking  at  play,  and 
 in  purchallng  of  play-things  of  others  his  equals. 
 
 To  remove  out  of  the  way  one  great  temptation 
 to  lying,  or  equivocation  (which  is  as  bad),  it  will  be 
 a  good  method  to  let  him  know,  he  may  always  exped: 
 to  be  pardoned  what  he  has  done  amifs,  upon  an  honeft 
 and  ingenuous  confeilion.  For  indeed  there  is  no  fault 
 a  child  is  likely  to  be  guilty  of,  that  is  fo  bad  as  a  lie, 
 or  trick,  to  excafe  it.  Therefore  it  will  be  beft,  before 
 you  mention  what  you  have  to  accufe  him  of,  to  put  it 
 in  his  povrer  to  fave  the  punilbment,  by  making  the  dif- 
 covery  himfelf ;  intimating,  that  you  know  more  than 
 he  may  think  of,  and  that  you  will  treat  him  accord- 
 ingly as  you  find  he  deals  ingenuoufly  with  you,  or 
 otherwife. 
 
 If  your  fon  feems  to  fhew  a  turn  to  craft,  and  fly  deceit, 
 which  appears  infome  children  very  early,  and  is  a  very 
 unpromiling  character,  the  likelieft  way  to  break  him 
 of  that  vice,  is  by  fliewing  him  that  his  little  arts  are 
 feen  through;  by  triumphing  over  him,  and  ridiculing 
 his  ineffedlual  cunning  in  the  fevereit  manner  you  can; 
 and  by  fufpeding  fome  defign  in  all  he  fays  and  does, 
 and  putting  him  to  fuch  inconveniences  by  your  fufpi- 
 cions  of  him,  as  may  make  him  refolve  to  be  open  and 
 honeft,   merely  in  felf-defence. 
 
 If  his  bent  be  to  palTion  and  refentment,  fhutting  him 
 up,  and  keeping  him  from  hi§  diverfions  and  play-fel- 
 lows, is  the  proper  method  of  treating  him;  becaufe  it 
 gives  him  an  opportunity  for  what  he  moft  wants,  to 
 wit,  confideration,  and  attention  to  his  own  weaknefs, 
 which  is  all  that  is  in  early  age  neceflary  to  the  conqueft: 
 of  it. 
 
 If  he  appears  timorous  or  cowardly,  it  will  be  ne- 
 cefTary  to  accuftom  him  by  degrees  to  crowds,  to  ftormj 
 weather,  to  rough  waters,  to  the  fight  of  counterfeit 
 fighting-matches,  and  to  be  handled  a  little  roughly, 
 ^ut  without  danger  of  being  hurt,  by  others  of  his  own 
 
 age. 
 
■gj4  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I. 
 
 age.  If  his  temper  feems  too  boifteroiis,  fo  that  he  is 
 always  ready  to  quarrel,  and  loves  fighting  for  fighting's 
 fake,  keeping  him  among  the  female  part  of  the  family 
 is  the  likelieft  mechanical  means  1  know  for  foftening 
 his  manners. 
 
 If  he  fnews  too  much  felf-conceit,  it  will  be  neceliary 
 to  mortify  him  from  time  to  time,  by  fhewing  him  his 
 defects,  and  how  much  he  is  exceeded  by  others.  If 
 he  is  bafliful  and  timorous,  he  mull  be  encouraged  and 
 commended  for  whatever  he  does  well. 
 
 If  a  child  feems  inclined  to  fauntering  and  idlenefs, 
 emulation  is  the  proper  cure  to  be  adminiftrcd.  If  he 
 fees  others  of  his  equals  honoured  and  carelTed  for  ufing 
 a  little  diligence,  he  muft  be  of  a  temper  uncommonly 
 infenfible,  and  of  a  fpirit  uncommonly  abjedt,  if  he  is 
 not  moved  to  emulate  their  improvements. 
 
 Lying  a-bed  in  a  morning,  or  paffing,  at  any  time, 
 a  whole  day,  without  doing  fomewhat,  toward  his  im- 
 provement, if  in  health,  ought  by  no  means  to  be  allows 
 ed  in  a  child  who  is  come  to  the  age  of  learning  to  fpell. 
 And  if  he  is  from  his  infancy  accuftomed  to  hear  fchools 
 and  places  of  education  fpoke  of  as  fcenes  of  happinefs; 
 and  has  books  (not  fweet-meats,  play-things,  or  finie 
 clothes)  given  him  as  the  molt  valuable  prefents  and  the 
 richeil  rewards,  he  can  hardly  fail  to  be  moved  to  exert 
 himfelf. 
 
 But  all  this  is  di redly  contrary  to  the  common  prac- 
 tice of  threatening  a  child  with  fchool  whenever  he 
 does  amifs,  of  fetting  him  a  talk  as  a  punilhment,  and 
 of  fending  for  him  from  fchool,  from  time  to  time,  as  a 
 gratification. 
 
 A  tendency  to  prodigality  in  a  child  is  to  be  curbed 
 as  early  as  pofRble.  For  he  who  will  in  his  youth  la- 
 vilh  away  half-pence,  when  he  comes  to  manhood  will 
 be  apt  to  fquander  away  guineas.  The  beft  methods  I 
 know  for  correding  this  bias  in  a  child,  are  fuch  as 
 thefe  :  Encouraging  him  to  fave  a  piece  of  money  fome 
 little  time,  on  the  promife  of  doubling  it,  and,  which 
 is  to  the  fame  purpofe,  lelTening  his  allowance  (but  not 
 by  any  means  depriving  him  wholly  of  pocket-money) 
 in  cafe  of  mifcondud:  j  obliging  him  to  give  an  ex.- 
 
 ad; 
 
-  Of  Prudence.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  75 
 
 a6t  aqcount  of  his  manner  of  laying. out  his  money,  by 
 memory  at  firft,  and  afterwards  in  a  written  account, 
 •regalarly  kept ;  putting  in  a  purfe  by  itfelf  a  penny  or 
 lixpence  for  every  penny  or  fixpence  given  him,  and 
 ihe wing  > him,  from  time  to  time,  the  fum  ;  and  fo 
 forth. 
 
 There  is  no  error  more  fat:al  than  imagining,  that 
 pinching  a  youth  in  his  pocket-money  will  teach  hirri 
 frugality.  On  the  contrary,  it  will  only  occalion  his 
 running  into  extravagance  with  fo  much  the  more  eager- 
 nefs,  whenever  he  comes  to  have  money  in  bis  own 
 hands ;  as  pinching  him  in  his  diet  will  make  his  ap- 
 petite only  the  more  rapacious.  In  the  fame  manner, 
 confining  him  too  much  from  diverfions  and  company, 
 will  heighten  his  delire  after  them  :  And  overloading 
 and  fatiguing  him  with  ftudy,  or  with  religious  exer- 
 cifes,  will  difgud  him  againft  learning  and  devotion. 
 For  human  nature  is  like  a  rtream  of  water,  which,  if 
 too  much  oppofed  in  its  courfe,  will  fwell,  and  at  length 
 overflow  all  bounds ;  but,  carefully  kept  within  its 
 banks,  will  enrich  and  beautify  the  places  it  vilits  in 
 its  courfe. 
 
 If  you  put  into  the  hands  of  your  child  more  money 
 than  is  fuitable  to  his  age  and  difcretion,  expedl  to  find 
 that  he  has  throv/n  it  away  upon  what  is  not  only  idle, 
 but  hurtful.  A  certain  fmall  regular  income  any  child 
 above  lix  years  of  age  ought  to  have,  and  1  fnould  think 
 no  extraordinary  advance  proper  upon  any  account. 
 Whf:n  he  comes  to  be  capable  of  keeping  an  account, 
 he  ought  to  be  obliged  to  it.  He  will  thereby  acquire 
 a  habit  of  frugality,  attention,  and  prudence,  that  will 
 be  of  fervice  to  him  through  his  whole  life.  On  the 
 contrary,  giving  a  young  perfon  money  to  fpend  at  will, 
 without  requiring  any  account  of  it,  is  leading,  or  ra- 
 ther forcing  him  upon  extravagance  and  folly. 
 
 As  to  a  turn  to  covetoufnefs  and  hoarding,  it  is  in  a 
 child  a  frightful  temper,  indicating  a  natural  inclination 
 to  fordid  felfilhnefs.  This  being  a  difpofition  which 
 flrengthens  with  years,  and  holds  to  the  lad,  when  it 
 begins  to  appear  fo  early,  it  is  to  be  exped:ed  it  will 
 come  to  an  exceflive  degree  in  time.     A  lad  ought  to 
 
 be 
 
^6  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I, 
 
 be  broke  of  this  unhappy  turn,  by  fhewing  him  .the 
 odioufnefs  of  it  in  the  judgment  of  all  open-hearted 
 people,  and  by  expofmg  his  churliflmefs  to  the  ridicule 
 of  his  equals.  Children  ought  to  be  accuitomed  from 
 their  earlieft  years,  to  bring  themfelves  with  tale  to 
 <juit  what  they  may  hav'e  a  right  to  ;  to  give  away  part 
 of  their  fruits  or  fweet-meats,  and  to  bellow  out  of  their 
 pocket-money  for  the  relief  of  the  poor. 
 
 A  natural  perverfenefs  and  obftinacy  in  the  temper  of 
 a  child,  it  is  hardly  poifible  to  break  after  feven  or  ■;ight 
 years  of  age,  till  reafon  and  experience  do  it,  which 
 may  never  happen.  And  even  before  that  early  period, 
 it  is  not  in  fome  to  be  conquered,  but  by  fevere  means; 
 though  feverity  may  be  ui'ed  without  violence,  as  by 
 confinement  and  dieting.  When  a  parent  finds  bim- 
 felf  obliged  to  come  to  extremities,  the  mildeft  way  of 
 proceeding  is  to  refolve  to  go  through  with  it  at  once. 
 It  is  likewife  a  more  effectual  method  to  punifn  once 
 with  fome  feverity,  than  a  great  many  times  in  a  fu- 
 perficial  manner.  For  when  once  a  child,  of  a  fturdy 
 ipirit  and  conilitution,  becomes  accuftomed  to  punifh- 
 ment,  he  grows  hardened  againil  it,  till  at  length  it 
 iofes  its  effeds,  and  becomes  no  punilliment,  1  need 
 not  add,  that  correclion,  when  things  come  to  the  ex- 
 tremity which  renders  it  abfolutely  neceffary,  ought  al- 
 ways to  be  adminidered  with  coolnefs  and  deliberation, 
 and  not  without  vifible  reludsnce,  that  the  child  may 
 plainly  fee  it  is  not  paffion  in  the  parent,  but  a  regard 
 to  his  good,  and  ablolute  neceifity  that  brings  it  upon 
 him.  And  as  nothing  but  a  vifible  pravity  of  mind  is 
 fufiicient  to  make  fo  rough  a  remedy  necefiary,  fo  when- 
 ever the  perverfenefs  or  wickednels  of  dilpofition  which 
 occafioned  it  feems  perfectly  conquered,  it  ought  by  all 
 means  to  be  given  over,  and  a  quite  contrary  behaviour 
 to  be  alTumed  by  the  parent.  For  the  danger  of  hard- 
 ening the  temper  of  a  child,  by  making  him  too  fami- 
 liar with  punifliment,  is  almoft  as  bad  as  any  fault  in- 
 tended to  be  corrected  by  it.  Confinement,  dieting, 
 reftraint  from  the  amufements  allowed  to  others  his 
 eciuals,  the  lofs  of  his  father's  or  mother's  favour,  and, 
 
 labove 
 
Of  Prudence.]         HUMAN  NATURE.  71 
 
 nbove  all,  difgrace,  are  much  the  moft  ingenuous  punilh- 
 ment3  to  be  inflitled  on  young  gentlemen. 
 
 When  it  is  found  necefiiry  to  infli-il  difgrace,  the  ut- 
 moil  care  ought  to  be  taken,  tshat  the  whole  family  ap- 
 pear to  be  ot  a  mind.  If  the  father  chides,  and  the 
 mother,  or  any  other  p^rfon  encourages,  what  effect 
 can  be  expeded  to  be  worked  upon  the  mind  of  the 
 child  ?  On  the  other  hand,  when  he  meets  with  cold- 
 nefs  and  difcourageraenr  from  every  body^  he  will  find 
 himfelf  under  a  neceffity  of  amending  his  manners  in  his 
 own  defence. 
 
 To  make  the  young  mind  the  more  fufceptible  of  a 
 fenfe  of  fhame,  and  to  infpire  it  with  fentiments  of  true 
 honour  ;  youth  fhould  be  very  early  taught  to  entertain 
 worthy  thoughts  of  the  dignity  of  Human  Nature,  and 
 the  reverence  we  owe  ourfelves,  fo  that  they  may  be 
 made  to  fland  in  fo  much  awe  of  themfelves  as  not 
 to  do  a  mean  adion,  though  never  to  be  known  to  an/ 
 creature. 
 
 All  methods  of  education  ought  in  general  to  be  di- 
 re6led  to  the  improvement  of  fome  good  tendency,  or 
 the  correction  of  fome  wrong  turn  in  the  mind.  And 
 that  parent,  or  tutor,  who  thinks  of  forming  a  rational 
 creature,  as  he  would  break  a  hound  or  a  colt,  by  feve- 
 rity  alone,  without  endeavouring  to  redify  the  judg- 
 ment ai'id  bend  the  will,  fhevvs  hin>ielf  wholly  ignorant 
 of  human  nature,  and  of  the  work  he  lias  undertaken. 
 From  the  time  a  child  can  fpeak,  it  is  capable  of  being 
 reafoned  with,  in  a  way  fuitable  to  its  age,  and  of  being 
 convinced  of  the  good  or  evil. of  its  adions,  and  is  ne- 
 ver to  be  eorrecled  without;  otherwife  you  may  con- 
 clude, that  the  effecfl:  willceafe  with  the  frnart.  A  fenfe 
 of  honour  and  (bame,  and  of  the  right  and  wrong  of 
 adiions,  are  the  proper  hundies  of  education,  as  they  lead 
 diredly  to  virtue,  and  lay  a  reilraint  upon  the  mind  it- 
 felf.  Punifliment,  if  not  managed  with  great  judg- 
 ment, and  adminiftered  rather  as  a  mark  and  atten- 
 dant of  that  dilgrace,  into  which  a  youth  has  brought 
 himfelf  by  bad  behaviour,  may  have  no  other 
 effedl,  than  that- of  perfuading  him,  that  the  pain  is 
 a  great   evil,  which  he   ought   not  to  think,  but  be 
 
 3  taught 
 
'^i  The  dignity  of  (Book  h 
 
 taught  to  defpife  it.  Or  it  may  tend,  If  overdone,  to 
 harden  and  brutalize  his  temper,  and  lead  him  to  ufe 
 others  as  he  has  been  ufed.  Pahry  rewards,  as  fine 
 clothes  or  play-things,  ought  likewife  never  to  be. 
 bertowed  without  a  caution,  that  they  are  given  not  as 
 things  valuable  in  themfelves,  but  only  as  marks  of  fa- 
 vour and  approbation.  If  this  be  not  taken  care  of,  a 
 child  may  be  led  to  look  upon  fuch  baubles  as  the  fum- 
 mum  bonum  of  life,  v>'hich  will  give  him  a  quite  wrong 
 turn  of  mind. 
 
 In  chiding,  or  correcting,  it  will  be  neceffary  to  take 
 the  utnioft  cafe'  not  to  reprefent  to  a  young  perfon  his 
 fault  as  unpardonable,  or  his  cafe  as  defperate  ;  but  to 
 leave  room  for  reformation  ;  left  he  think  he  has  utterly 
 lolt  his  character,-  and  fo  become  itupidly  indifferent 
 about  recovering  your  favour,  or  amending  his  man- 
 ners. Nor  is  the  recovery  of  any  perfon  under  thirty 
 years  of  age  to  be  wholly  defpaired  of,  where  there  is  a 
 fund  of  fenfe,  and  an  ingenuous  temper  to  work  upon. 
 
 A  turn  to  cruelty;  appearing  in  a  child's  delighting 
 in  teazing  his  equals,  in  pulling  infedts  to  pieces,  and 
 in  torturing  birds,  frogs,  cats,  or  other  animals,  ought 
 by  ail  means  to  be  rooted  out  as  foon.  as  poflible.  Chil- 
 dren ought  to  be  convinced  of  what  they  are  not  gene- 
 rally aware  of.  That  an  animal  can  feel,  though  it  can- 
 wot  complain,  and  that  cruelty  to  u  beaft  or  infed,  is  as 
 much  cruelty,  and  as  truly  wicked^  as  when  exercifed 
 Dpon  our  own  fpecies. 
 
 There  are  few  children  that  may  not  be  formed  to 
 tracbablenefs  and  goodnefs,  where  a  parent  has  the  con- 
 icience  to  ftuely  carefully  his  duty  in  this  refpecl,  the 
 lieadinefs  to  go  through  with  it,  and  the  fagacity  to 
 manage  properly  the  natural  tendencies  of  the  mind,  to 
 play  them  againft  one  another,  to  fupply  what  may  be 
 defective,  to  corred  what  may  be  wrong,  and  to  lop  off 
 what  may  be  redundant. 
 
 Let  only  a  parent  confider  with  himfelf  what  temper 
 he   would  have   his  fon  be  of,   when  a  man  ;  and  let 
 him  cultivate  that  in  him,  while  a  child.     If  he  would 
 not  have  him  fierce,  crue),   or  revengeful,  let  hnn  take  - 
 c;^re  early  to  Hiew  his  diipleafure  at  every  inflance   of 
 
 furhnefsj 
 
Of  Prudence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  ^^ 
 
 furlinefs,  or  malice,  againfl  his  play-fellows,  or  cruelty 
 to  brutes  or  infeds.  if  he  would  not  wifh  him  to  prove 
 of  a  fretful  and  peevilli  temper,  ready  to  loofe  all  pa- 
 tience at  every  little  difappointrnent  in  life,  let  him  take 
 care  from  the  firli,  not  to  humour  him  in  all  his  childifli 
 freaks,  not  to  fliew  him  that  he  can  refufe  him  nothing, 
 nor  efpecially  to  give  him  what  he  afks,  becaufe  he 
 cries  or  is  out  of  humour  for  it,  but  for  that  very  rea- 
 fon  to  withhold  what  might  otherwife  be  fit  for  him. 
 If  he  would  not  have  him  a  glutton,  Vv'hen  he  comes  to 
 be  a  man,  let  him  not  confult  his  appetite  too  much  m 
 his  childhood  ;  and  fo  of  the  red. 
 
 It  is  a  molt  fatal  mirtake,  which  many  parents  are  in 
 with  refpect  to  the  important  bulinefs  of  forming  the 
 moral  charader  of  their  children,  That  the  faults  of 
 children  are  of  little  confequence.  Yet  it  is  the  very 
 fame  difpofitlon,  which  makes  a  child,  or  youth,  pai" 
 lionate,  falfe,  or  revengeful,  and  which  in  the  man  pro- 
 duces murder,  perjury,  and  all  the  moll;  atrocious  crimes. 
 The  very  fame  turn  of  mind,  which  puts. a  child,  or 
 youth,  upon  beating  his  play-fellows  with  his  little 
 harmlefs  hand,  will  afterwards,  if  not  correded,  arm 
 him  with  a  fvvord  to  execute  his  revenge.  How  then 
 can  parents  be  fo  unthinking  as  to  connive  at,  much 
 more  to  encourage,  a  wrong  turn  of  mind  in  th-eir  chil- 
 dren ?  At  the  fame  time  that  they  would  do  their  ut- 
 moft  to  redify  any  blemilh  in  a  feature  or  limb,  as 
 knowing  that  it  will  elfe  be  quickly  incurable  ;  they 
 allow  the  mind  to  run  into  vice  and  diiorder,  which 
 they  know  may  be  foon  irretrievable. 
 
 If  your  child  threatened  to  grow  crooked,  or  de- 
 formed ;  if  he  were  dwarfifli  and  ilunted  ;  if  he  were 
 weak  in  one  or  mote  of  his  limbs ;  cr  did  not  look  with 
 both  eyes  alike  ;  would  you  not  give  any  thing  in  .the 
 world  to  have  fuch  infirmity  llrengthened,  or  wrong 
 call  of  features  redreifed  ?  VVould  you  put  off  endea- 
 vouring this  for  one  day  after  you  had  difcovered  the 
 detect?  And  will  you  trifle  with  a  deformity  of  infi-. 
 nitely  greater  confequence,  a .  blemifh  in  the  mind? 
 Would  you  anfvver  to  any  one,  who  advifed  you  to  -a 
 remedy  for  weak  hauis^  or  arj.  arim  tbreaterJng  to  wither  j 
 
 thar^ 
 
t6  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  T. 
 
 that,  as  your  child  grew  up,  they  would  (Irengthen  of 
 themfelves,  and  therefore  it  was  needlefs  to  take  any 
 trouble  at  prefent  ?  Why  then  fliould  you  put  off  ufing 
 your  utmoft  endeavotirs,  and  that  as  foon  as  poffible, 
 for  breaking  the  im potency  of  his  paflions,  bettering 
 his  temper,  and  ftrengthening  his  judgment  ?  Will  you 
 fay,  that,  though  your  child  is  now  at  fix  years  old, 
 fretful,  perverfe,  crafty,  given  to  idlenefs,  lying,  and 
 difobedience  ;  it  does  not  follow,  that  he  muft  be  fo  at 
 twenty  or  thirty  ?  Why  do  you  not  likewife  perfuade 
 yourfelf,  that  he  muft  outgrow  fquinting,  or  a  high 
 Ihoulder  ?  You  cannot  think  a  fliort  neck,  or  a  wrong 
 caft  of  the  eye,  a  worfe  blemilh  than  a  turn  to  falfehood, 
 malice,  or  revenge  ?  Yet  you  encourage  your  fon,  at 
 three  years  of  age,  to  vent  his  fpite  upon  whatever  dif- 
 obiiges  him,  even  upon  the  floor,  when  he  catches  a 
 fall.  He  aiks  you  what  you  have  got  in  your  hand  : 
 you  do  not  choofe  to  let  him  have  it ;  and  you  have  not 
 the  courage  to  tell  him  fo.  You  therefore  put  him  off 
 with  anfvvering,  that  it  was  nothing.  By  and  by,  he 
 has  laid  hold  of  fomewhat  not  fit  for  him,  which  he  en- 
 deavours to  conceal.  You  afk  him  what  he  has  got : 
 Has  he  not  your  own  example  and  authority  for  putting 
 you  off  with  a  fliuffling  anfvver  ?  He  ailis  fomewhat  not 
 fit  for  him.  You  refufe  it :  he  falls  a  crying  :  you  give 
 it  him.  Is  there  any  farer  way  of  teaching  him  to 
 make  ufe  conftantly  of  the  fame  means  for  obtaining 
 whatever  his  wayward  will  is  fet  upon  ?  You  trick  him 
 up  with  tawdry  ornaments,  and  dangle  him  about  after 
 all  manner  of  Ihews  and  entertainments,  while  he  ought 
 to  be  applying  to  his  improvement  in  fomewhat  ufeful. 
 Is  not  this  teaching  him,  that  finery  and  gadding  are 
 the  perfedion  of  life  ?  Is  not  this  planting  in  his  mind 
 with  your  own  hand  the  feeds  of  vice  and  folly?  Yet 
 you  would  turn  away  a  niirfery-maid,  who  fliould,  for 
 her  diverfion,  teach  him  to  fquint,  or  ftammer,  or  go 
 awry. 
 
 It  is  ftrange,  that  parents  fliould  either  be  £o  weak, 
 as  to  look  upon  any  fault  in  the  minds  of  their  children 
 as  of  little  confequence,  and  not  worth  correcting;  or 
 that  they  fliould  not  generally  have  the  fagacity  to  dif- 
 
 tinguiih, 
 
bj'Pnidence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  Si 
 
 tinj^nifh  betwcf^n  thofe  infirmities,  which,  being  the 
 efFefts  of  unripe  age,  miift  of  courfe  core  themfelves, 
 find  thofe,  which,  being  occafioned  by  a  wrong  cull  iti 
 the  mind,  are  likely  to  grow  ftronger  and  (Tronger. 
 ThoughtleiTnefs,  timidity,  and  love  of  plar,  which  are 
 natural  to  childhood,  may  be  expected  to  abate  as  years 
 come  on.  But  it  is  evidently  not  io  with  a  turn  to  de- 
 ceit,  malice,  or  perverfenefs. 
 
 I  cannot  help  adding  here  one  advice  to  parents, 
 which,  if  it  fhould  not  be  thought  over  complaifant,  is 
 however  well  meant.  It  is,  that  they  would  take  care 
 to  fet  before  their'children  an  unexceptionable  example. 
 The  confequence  of  a  negled:  of  this  will  be,  thatchil-. 
 dren  will  be  drawn  to  imitate  wh.it  is  bad,  and  be  pre- 
 vented from  regarding  what  good  advice  may  be_ given 
 them.  Do  not  imagine  you  can  cffe<^ually  inculcate 
 upon  your  fon  the  virtues  of  fobriety  and  frugality, 
 while  he  fees  your  houfe  and  your  table  the  fcenes  of 
 luxury  and  gluttony ;  or  that  your  afFedled  grave  leflbns 
 will  attach  him  to  purity  and  piety,  while  your  con- 
 rerfation  is  interlarded  with  fwearing  and  obfcenity;  of 
 that  you  can  perfuade  him  to  think  of  the  care  of  his 
 foul  as  the  great  concern,  while  he  fees  that  you  live 
 only  to  get  money. 
 
 Thofe  natural  inclinations  of  the  human  mind  ought 
 to  be  encouraged  to  the  utmoft  (under  "proper  regula- 
 tions) which  tend  to  put  it  upon  allien  and  excelling. 
 Whoever  would  vvifh  his  fon  to  be  diligent  in  his  {In- 
 dies, and  active  in  bufineA,  can  nfe  no  better  means 
 for  that  purpofe,  than  llirring  up  in  him  emulation,  a 
 defire  of  praife,  and  a  fenfe  of  honour  and  ihame.  Cu- 
 riofity  will  put  a  youth  upon  inquiring  into  the  nature 
 and  reafons  of  things,  and  endeavouring  to  acquire  uni- 
 verfal  knowledge.  This  paffion  ought  therefore  to  be 
 excited  to  the  utmoft,  and  gratified,  even  when  it  fhews 
 itfelf  by  his  aiking  the  moil-  cbildifh  quellions,  which 
 ihould  always  be  anfvveted  in  as  rational  and  fatisfying 
 a  manner  as  poffible. 
 
 It  is  by  habit  rather  than  precept,  that  a  young  per- 
 fon  is  belt  formed  to  readinefs  and  addrefs  in  doing 
 tbings.     If  your  fon   hands  a  glafs   or  a   tea-cup  a\vk- 
 
 G  ,  wardly. 
 
8'2  'I'HE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  1. 
 
 wardly,  lie  will  profit  more  by  making  him  do  it  over 
 again,  direding  him  how,  than  by  preaching  to  him 
 an  hour.  It  is  the  fame  in  fcholarlhip,  and  in  his  be- 
 haviour to  his  equals,  as  to  juftice  and  iincerity;  which 
 Ihews  the  advantage  of  a  focial,  above  a  folitary  educa- 
 tion. Therefore  opportunities  of  planting  proper  habits 
 in  young  people  ought  to  be  fought,  and  they  kept  do- 
 ing, merely  that  by  pradice  they  may  come  to  do  things 
 well  at  laft. 
 
 On  this  head,  I  cannot  help  remarking  on  the  unhappy 
 Gonftraint  I  have  often,  with  much  fympathy,  feen  very 
 young  children  put  under  before  company.  The  chid- 
 ing lectures  I  have  heard  read  to  boys  and  girls  of  eight 
 or  ten  years  of  age,  about  holding  up  of  heads,  putting 
 back  (lioulders,  turning  out  toes,  and  making  legs,  have, 
 I  am  perfaaded,  gone  a  good  way  toward  dilgufting  the 
 poor  children  againft  what  is  called  behaviour.  Did 
 parents  confider,  that,  even  in  grown  people,  the  grace- 
 fuinefs  of  behaviour  confills  in  an  eafy  and  natural  mo- 
 tion and  gellure,  and  looks  denoting  kindnefs  and  good- 
 will to  thofe  with  whom  they  converfe;  and  that  if,  a 
 child's  heart  and  temper  are  formed  to  civility,  the: 
 outward  expreffions  of  it  will  come  in  all  due  time; 
 did  parents,  I  fay,  confider,  thefe  obvious  things,  they 
 would  beftow  their  chief  attention  upon  the  mind,  and 
 not  make  themfelves,  their  children,  and  their  friends, 
 uneafy  about  making  courtefies,  and  legs,  twenty  times 
 in  a  quarter  of  an  hour^ 
 
 The  bodily  infirmities  of  children  may  often  by  pro- 
 per management  be  greatly  helped,  if  not  wholly  cured. 
 Crookednefs,  for  example,  by  fwingkig  and  hanging  by 
 the  arm  next  to  the  crooked  fide.  Squinting,  by  fpec- 
 tacles  properly  contrived,  and  by  fhooting  with  the  bow. 
 A  paralytic  motion  in  the  eyes  by  the  cold  bath  and 
 nervous  remcities.  Weaknefs  in  the  eyes,  by  walliing 
 them  in  cold  water,  and  not  fparing  ^them  too  much. 
 Bitfnfuinefs  and  biufhing,  by  company  and  encourage- 
 ment. Ciookeduffs  in  the  legs,  by  being  fwung  with 
 moderate  weights  faftened  to  the  feet,  and  ufing  riding, 
 as  an  exerciie,  more  frequently  than  walking  ;  never 
 ilanding  for  ?.nj  time  together  j  and  by  iron  ftrength- 
 
 eners- 
 
Of  Prudence.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  83 
 
 eners  properly  applied.  Shooting  with  the  long-bow  is 
 good  for  ftrengthening  the  cheft  and  arms.  Exercifc, 
 and  regular  hours  of  diet  and  reft,  and  fimplc  food, 
 for  the  appetite.  Riding,  efpecially  on  a  hard-trotting 
 horfe,  is  the  firft  of  exercifes,  and  a  cure  for  complaints, 
 which  no  medicine  in  the  difpenfatory  will  reach.  Stam- 
 mering is  cured  by  people  who  profefs  that  art.  And 
 even  dumbnefs  fo  far  got  the  better  of,  that  perfons  born 
 fo  are  brought  to  be  capable  of  holding  a  fort  of  con- 
 verfaticn  with  thofe  who  are  ufed  to  them.  Shortnefs 
 of  the  neck,  and  iluntednefs,  are  helped  by  being  fwung 
 in  a  neck-fwing.  Almoft  any  bad  habit,  as  fhrugging 
 the  fhoulders,  nodding,  making  faces,  and  the  like,  may 
 be  helped  by  continual  attention,  and  making  the  child 
 do  fomewhac  laborious,  or  difagreeabie  to  him,  every 
 time  you  catch  him  at  his  trick. 
 
 OF  thofe  parts  of  education,   which  take  in  fcience, 
 I  fnall  have  occafion  to  treat  in  the  following  book. 
 
 F 
 
 SECT.    VIIL 
 
 Of  th^  peculiar  Management  of  Tiaughters. 
 
 EMx\LE  children  being  as  much  by  nature  rational 
 creatures,  as  males,  it  feems  pretty  obvious,  that, 
 in  bringing  them  up  to  maturity,  there  is  fome  regard 
 to  be  had  to  the  cultivation  of  their  reafon,  as  well  as 
 the  adorning  of  their  perfons.  As  to  the  forming,  of 
 their  tempers,  the  directions  above  given  vWll,  with  fom.e 
 Imall  variation,  fuit  them.  As  girls  are  more  apt  to  run 
 into  vanity,  on  account  of  their  beauty  or  drefs,  than 
 the  other  fex  ;  it  will  be  necelTary  to  guard  againft  this 
 folly,  which,  elfe,  will  grow  with  years,  till  it  becomes 
 unfutFerable.  And  after  all,  there  is  no  douhr,  but  a 
 foolilh  head  is  always  contemptible,  whether  it  be  co- 
 vered with  a  cap  or  a  wig.  And  a  creature,  that  values 
 itfclf  only  upon  its  form,  and  has  no  other  ambition  but 
 to  make  that  agreeable,  muft  be  lunk  to  a  very  low  pitch 
 of  underftanding,  and  -lias  little  pretence  to  rank  itftlf 
 with  rational  beings. 
 
 The  proper  education  of  a  daughter,  if  11  parent  hhs 
 a  irand  ilie  lliould  ever  be  lit  for  filling  a  place  in  fociety, 
 
 G  i  ^  ar4 
 
S4  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  % 
 
 nnd  being  n  fuitable  companion  and  help  meet  for  a 
 man  of  knCe^  is,  firft,  Reading  with  propriety  and  life  ; 
 readinefs  at  her  needle,  efpeciaily  for  people  in  middling 
 ftntions  ;  a  free  command  of  her  pen,  and  complete 
 knowledge  of  numbers,  as  far  as  the  rule  called  Pra6lice. 
 A  woman  cannot  with  eafe  and  certainty  keep,  or  exa- 
 mine the  accounts  of  her  own  family,,  without  thefe 
 accompliflinients.  The  knowledge  of  EngUJh  grammar 
 or  orfhography  is  abfolutely  neceffary  to  any  perfon^ 
 who  would  write  to  be  read.  Without  fome  acquaint- 
 ance with  geography  and  biftory,  a  woman's  converfa- 
 lion  mufl  be  confined  within  a  very  narrow  compafs^ 
 and  file  will  enjoy  much  Icfs  pleafure  in  that  of  her 
 liufbaiid  and  his  friends  ;  and  his  entertainment  from 
 her  converfation  muft  likewife  be  very  much  abridged, 
 if  (he  can  bear  no  part  on  any  but  the  fubjeds  of  fafiiions 
 or  fcandal. 
 
 Plays,  romances,  love-vcrfes,  and  cards,  are  utter  ruin 
 to  young  women.  For,  if  they  find  any  entertainment 
 in  them,  they  muft  unavoidably  give  their  minds  a  caft, 
 which  can  never  be  fuitable  to  the  ufeful  part  of  a  fe- 
 male characler,  which  is  wholly  domeftic.  For,  what- 
 ever the  fine  ladies  of  our  age  muft  think  off  the  matter^ 
 it  is  certain,  that  the  only  rational  ambition  they  can 
 have,  muft  be  to  make  obedient  daughters,  loving 
 wives,  prudent  mothers  and  miftrelTes  of  families,  faith- 
 ful friends,  and  good  Chriftians  ;  Charaders  much  more 
 valuable  than  thofe  of  fls.iiful  gamefters,  fine  dancers, 
 fingers,  or  dreffers,  or  than  even  of  wits  and  critics. 
 
 SECT.     IX.     - 
 
 Of  Placing  Touth  out  Apprentices. 
 
 HERE  are  fome  grievances  with  refpedl  to  the 
 'prenticing  out  of  youth  intended  for  bulinels, 
 which  I  have  long  wifhed  to  fee  redrefied.  As,  in  the 
 Hrft  place,  it  does  not  appear  to  me  neceffary,  that  parents 
 Ihould  hurry  their  fons  away  fVom  places  of  education, 
 before  they  can,  by  their  age,  be  fuppofed  to  be  fuflfi- 
 ciently  grounded  in  the  various  parts  of  ufeful  and  orna- 
 mental knowledge,  or  (which  is  of  infinitely  more  con- 
 
 fequence} 
 
Of  Prudence.)        '  HUMAN  NATURE.  &5 
 
 Tequence) principled  in  virtue  and  religion,  to  place  them 
 out  apprentices  feven  years,  to  learn  to  fell  a  piece  of 
 linen,  or  a  loaf  of  fugar,  where  there  is  an  end  of  all 
 opportunity  of  improvement,  except  in  buiinefs.  While 
 a  youth  is  at  boarding-ichool,  he  lives  with  one,  who 
 is  to  be  fuppofed  qualified  to  inftruct  him,  and  condu(5l 
 his  morals,  and  who  is  evidently  inter e (led  to  beitow 
 his  belt  diligence  for  thofe  puroofes.  Whereas  a  mer- 
 chant, or  tradefman,  who  does  not  depend  upon  appren- 
 tices, as  a  mafter  of  a  place  of  education  does  upon  pu- 
 pils, and  is  belides  immerfed  in  a  variety  of  buiinels, 
 cannot  be  fuppofed  to  have  it  in  his  power  or  inciiiia- 
 •tion  to  give  much  attention  to  the  conducl  of  his  ap- 
 prentices. On  thefe  conliderations,  I  fay,  it  iv^ems  un- 
 reafonable,  and  prejudicial  to  youth,  to  be  removed,  as 
 they  often  are,  from  boarding-fchool  at  fourteen  or  fif- 
 teen years,  v;hen  they  are  juft  come  to  be  capable  of 
 the  more  manly  and  ufeful  parts  of  knowledge,  as  geo- 
 graphy, mathematics,  philolophy,  moral  and  natural, 
 and  the  like  ;  and  to  be  thruft  down  into  a  merchant's 
 or  tradefman's  kitchen  among  menial  fervants,  or  let 
 loofe  among  a  fet  of  thoughtkfs  young  fellows  like 
 themfelves,  but  half-principled,  and  therefore  too  liable 
 to  be  led  alh'ay  by  every  feducer.  I  cannot  fee  the  ne- 
 ceffity  of  a  youth's  being  placed  out  for  feven  years  to 
 learn  the  myftery  of  buying  in  and  felling  out  half  a 
 dozen  different  kinds  of  goods  ;  at  the  fame  time,  that 
 to  learn  all  the  intricacies  of  thebufinefs  of  an  attorney, 
 iive  years  clerkiliip  is  reckoned  fufficient. 
 
 Having  mentioned  the  common  manner  of  entertain- 
 ing apprentices,  I  beg  leave  to  add,  that,  though  1  fee 
 no  advantage  io  treating  young  people  with  too  much 
 delicacy,  yet  it  feems  abfurd  to  place  the  fons  of  mer- 
 chants and  fubftantial  tradefmen  with  chamber-maids 
 and  footmen.  This  I  know  is  done^  where  three  or 
 four  hundred  pounds  apprenticelhip  is  given.  If  a  gen- 
 tleman thinks  it  a  reilraint  upon  his  converfation,  to 
 have  his  apprentices  at  his  own  table,  it  would  be  no 
 great  matter,  methinks,  for  the  fathers  of  the  youth  to 
 allow  fomewhat  extraordinary  for  a  feparate  room  and 
 |)roper  accoaimodations,  to  prevent  their  keeping  com- 
 
 G  3  pany 
 
86  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Bookl, 
 
 pany  with  people  beneath  them,  from  whom  they  are 
 likely  to  learn  nothing  but  what  is  mean  and  fordid. 
 
 The  modern  way  of  life  of  our  citizens,  is  indeed 
 fuch,  as,  generally  fpeaking,  to  expofe  the  youth  placed 
 with  them  almoft  to  the  certainty  of  being  debauched, 
 if  not  utterly  ruined.  The  mafter  and  raiftrefs  of  the 
 houfe  engaged  in  the  evenings  in  viliting,  receiving 
 vifits,  attending  clubs,  or  public  divcrlions,  or  in  fliort, 
 any  way  but  minding  their  own  families.  And  in  the 
 fummer-fe'afon  out  of  town  on  Saturdays  and  Sundays  • 
 fome  half  the  week  ;  while  their  apprentices  are  left  to 
 themfelves,  expoled  to  the  felicitations  of  the  lewd  wo- 
 men, who  are  allowed,  to  the  fharae  of  law  and  magif- 
 tracy,  to  inveit  every  itreet  in  London^  and  to  turn  the 
 city  into  a  great  brothel.  The  fenfe  of  the  fatal  hazards 
 the  youth  run  during  their  apprenticefhips  in  London^ 
 has  determined  many  judicious  parents  of  late  years, 
 to  fend  their  fons  to  pafs  them  in  foreign  parts,  where 
 the  way  of  life  of  the  trading  people  is  different  from 
 what  prevails  here. 
 
 SECT.     X. 
 
 Of  choofing  'Employ  menti  for  Sons,  and  of  providing  For- 
 tunes for  tlj6nu 
 
 'N  order  to  a  perfon's  having  a  chance  for  fuccefs  and 
 happinefs  in  life,  it  is  neceffary  that  his  parents  con- 
 fult  the  natural  bent  of  his  genius,  before  they  deter- 
 mine what  employment  to  put  him  to.  The  negledl  of 
 this  mofl:  important  particular  has  been  the  caufe  of  in- 
 finite dirtrefs  and  difappointment,  and  has  obliged  ma- 
 ny, after  a  courfe  of  misfortunes  and  vexations,  in  a  way 
 of  life  for  which  they  have  not  been  fitted  by  nature, 
 to  lay  afide  their  firlt  fcheme,  and  enter  upon  that  for 
 which  nature  has  intended  them.  It  is  common  for 
 parents  to  refolve  to  give  their  children  fuch  employ- 
 ments as  fuit  their  own  humour  or  convenience,  rather 
 than  the  capacity  or  natural  bent  of  the  young  perfons, 
 who  are  the  moll  concerned  in  the  matter;  to  bring  up 
 a  plain  honed  youth  to  law  or  phylic,  or  thruft  a  heavy, 
 plodding  boy  into  a  pulpit ;  to  hamper  a  genius  behind 
 
Of  Prudence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  By 
 
 a  counter,  or  bury  him  among  bales  of  goods  in  a  ware- 
 houfe.  But  furely  no  parents  of  any  cunlideration  can 
 hope  to  get  the  better  of  nature,  to  give  his  child  qua- 
 lifications which  fhe  has  not  given  him,  or  to  remove 
 the  infuperable  difficulties  fhe  has  laid  in  the  way. 
 
 The  tempers  of  youth,  however,  may  in  general  be 
 faid  to  divide  themfclves  into  two  fpecies.  One  is  the 
 inquifitive,  penetrating,  and  lludious;  and  tlie  other,  the 
 flow  and  laborious;,  both  valuable  in  theirrefpedive  ways. 
 There  are  of  thefe  feveral  fabdivifions,  1  mean  thofe 
 who  have  a  particular  turn  to  fome  fingie  art  or  fcience. 
 All  which  ought  to  be  ftudied  with  the  utraoft  care  by 
 the  parent,  and  humoured  in  the  fcheme  of  life  intended 
 for  them.  Had  I  a  fon,  whofe  natural  turn  was  to  me- 
 chanics, I  (hould  certainly  rather  put  him  apprentice  to 
 a  watchmaker,  or  a  {iiverfmith,  in  which  I  fUoulS  think 
 he  could  not  fail  to  become  eminent,  and  confequcntly 
 to  get  a  fubfiftencc,  if  he  applied  diligently  to  his  bufi- 
 nefs,  than  bring  him  up  to  a  learned  profeffion,  in  whfch 
 I  could  not  exped:  him  to  make  any  f.gure.  And  fo  of 
 other  particular  turns. 
 
 If  the  genius  of  a  youth  is  bright,  it  will  difcover 
 itfelf  by  its  own  native  luflre  ;  {o  that  a  parent  will  be 
 at  no  lofs  to  determine  his  fon's  particular  call.  If  his 
 capacity  is  fiow,  it  will  perhaps  be  neceiTary  to  try  him 
 with  a  variety  of  employments  and  exercifes ;  and  as  it 
 is  found  that  almoit  every  rational  creature  has  a  turn 
 for  fomewhat,  and  is  by  nature  fitted  for  fome  place  or 
 other  in  fociety,  a  little  time  and  attention  will  difcover 
 what  a  parent  fearches  for. 
 
 Whatever  the  pride  of  parents  may  fuggeft,  it  is  plain 
 from  obfervation,  that  great  vivacity  and  brightnefs  of 
 parts  in  our  fex,  as  well  as  extraordinary  beauty  or  wit 
 in  the  other,  do  in  fadl  often  prove  fatal  to  both  ;  as 
 they  naturally  tend  to  fill  the  heads  of  thof?,  who  are 
 poflefled  of  them,  with  vanity  and  ambition,  and  to  put 
 them  upon  romantic  projects,  v/hich  take  off  their  at- 
 tention from  the  ferious  bufinefs  of  life.  Not  but  that 
 men  of  the  finell  parts  are  fometimes  found  as  fteady 
 and  prudent  in  the  management  of  their  affairs,  as  the 
 n^ull  and  plodding;  fome  of  which  iikewife  are  found 
 
 G  4  ta 
 
8S  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book 
 
 to  grovel  all  their  lives-long  in  poverty  and  obrcurity. 
 Bat,  generally  ipeaking,  it  is  otherwile.  So  that  a  pa- 
 rent, who  has  realon  to  look  upon  his  fon,  as  one  who 
 prv^niifes  to  make  a  figure  by  his  parts,  ought  to  be  hum- 
 ble and  cautious  ;  for  when  fuch  fly  out,  they  go  dread- 
 ful lengths  in  vice  or  folly ;  as,  on  the  other  hand,  if 
 a  parentis  profpe(^s,  with  regard  to  his  fon's  natural 
 abilities,  be  lefs  pleafing,  he  is  not  therefore  to  delpair. 
 of  making  him  fit  for  fome  ufeful  and,  valuable  ftation 
 in  life. 
 
 It  is  a  very  great  midake  fome  parents  run  into,  that 
 the  greatell  kmdnefs  they  can  do  their  children  is  to 
 give  them,  or  leave  them  a  great  fortune.  With  this 
 view  fome  labour  and  toil  ail  their  lives,  pinching  them- 
 felves  and  their  families,  and  grudging  their  phildreu 
 an  education  fuitable  to  their  fortunes,  only  to  heap  up 
 an  enormous  capita!,  which  is  likely  to,  be  diilipated  'u\ 
 much  leis  time  than  it  cod  to  amais  it. 
 
 If  a  young  gentleman  is  to  inherit  a  large  eftate, 
 without  a  fuitable  education,  his  great  fortune  will  only 
 make  him  the  more  extenlively  known  and  defpifed. 
 And,  it  his  profpeds  in  life  be  meaner,  he  will  have  the 
 more  occafion  for  an  univerfal  education,  to  give  him  a 
 chance  for  railing  himfelf  in  the  world.  Experience 
 Ihews,  that  it  is  not  in  fad  thofe  who  have  let  out  in 
 life  with  large  capitals,' that  live  happieft,  and  holdout 
 longeit  in  credit.  One  half  of  fuch  traders,  on  the 
 lirength  of  their  large  fortunes  and  extenfive  credit, 
 "run  into  the  fatal  error  of  over-trading,  and  the  other 
 into  expenfive  living.  Whereas  a  young  man,  who  ha,s 
 been  prudently  educated,  and  provided  by  his  parents 
 with  a  fortune  lufUcient  for  letting  him  on  foot  in  bufi- 
 iiefs,  knowing  that  he  has  no  fuperfluous  wealth  to  truft 
 to,  and  ponicquently,  that  it  mult  be  by  frugality,  in- 
 duilry,  anfl  prudence,  that  he  mud  think  to  raife  him- 
 felf, will  be  ijkeiy  to  apply  with  fteadinefs  and  dili- 
 gence to  his  bufiiicfs  ;  of  which  he  v^iil  in  the  end  reap 
 the  truits.  And  if  it  fhould  happen,  in  fpite  of  his  ut- 
 molt  care  and  prudence,  that  he  iliould  cometo  misfor- 
 tunes, which,  i  believe,  no  parent  will  pretend  toinfur^ 
 his  fon  aguiiiil,   a  wcli-accompiilhcd  man  is  not  likely 
 
 ever. 
 
Of  Prudence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  89 
 
 ever  to  be  long  deftitute  of  a  fubfiftence.  Upon  the 
 whole,  it  is  the  greateft  weaknefs  a  man  of  fubilance 
 can  fall  into,  to  cramp  his  fon's  education  for  the  fake 
 of  adding  a  few  hundred  pounds  to  his  fortune.  For 
 it  is  not  a  few  hundred  pounds  that  will  fupport  him, 
 when  the  bulk  of  his  fortune  isg  one  :  bat  sn  uleful 
 education  will  enable  him  to  get  a  fubliitence,  when 
 the  whole  of  his  paternal  fortune  is  gone. 
 
 S  E  C  T.     XL 
 
 Of  fettling  Children  of  both  Sexes  in  Life. 
 
 HEN  a  parent  has  in  this  manner  equipped  out 
 his  fon  with  a  proper  education,  and  fettled  him 
 in  a  way  of  living,  if  he  has  a  fair  opportunity,  it  wiii 
 be  his  wifdom  to  fee  him,  in  his  own  life-time,  likewife 
 fettled  in  marriage.  It  is  on  all  accounts  the  fafeft  and 
 bed  ftate.  And  a  man  is  always  lefs  likely  to  break 
 loofe  from  virtue,  after  he  has  entered  into  a  fettled  way 
 of  life,  than  before.. 
 
 What  I  have  fald  of  a  fon,  may  be  urged  with  ftill 
 more  reafon  with  refped:  to  a  daughter.  It  may  often 
 be  much  more  prudent  to  give  away  a  daughter  in  mar- 
 riage on  an  indifferent  oHer,  I  mean  as  to  circumilances 
 .of  wealth,  than  to  let  flip  an  opportunity  of  feeing  her 
 placed  out  of  harm's  way.  But  no  confideration  will 
 3nake  up  for  the  unhappinefs  llie  will  be  doomed  to,  if 
 ihe  falls  into  the  hands  of  a  morofe,  a  furious,  a  drunken, 
 a  debauched,  a  fpendthrift,  or  a  jealous  hufband.  If  a 
 man  may  be  faid  to  have  iliaken  hands  with  happinefs, 
 who  has  thrown  himfelf  into  the  arms  of  a  bad  woman, 
 much  lefs  realbn  has  a  weak  helplefs  woman  to  expetl 
 ever  to  fee  a  happy  day,  after  fhe  comes  into  the  power 
 of  a  man  void  of  virtue  or  humanity.  Let  thofe  pa- 
 rents, therefore,  who  conllrain  their  children,  for  the 
 fake  of  fordid  views,  to  plunge  themfelves  into  irre- 
 trievable mifery,  coniider  what  they  have  to  anfwer  for, 
 in  doing  an  injury,  which  they  never  can  repair,  to 
 thofe  whofe  real  happineis  they  were,  by  ail  the  ties  of 
 nature  and  reafon,  bound  to  promote. 
 
 It 
 
^  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I. 
 
 It  is  to  be  hoped  what  is  here  faid  of  the  danger  of 
 conilraining  the  inclinations  of  children  in  marriage, 
 ■will  by  no  means  be  conftriied  as  if  intended  to  encou- 
 rage young  people  to  obftinacy  and  contempt  of  the  ad° 
 vice  of  parents  in  making  a  choice  for  life. 
 
 SECT.     XXL 
 
 Of  retiring  f rem  Biifinefs, 
 
 AS  on  the  one  hand  it  is  odious  for  a  man  of  aia 
 overgrown  fortune  to  go  on  in  bufinefs  to  a  great 
 age,  ftill  llriving  to  increafe  a  heap  already  larger  than 
 is  neceffary,  to  the  prejudice  of  younger  people,  who 
 ought  to  have  a  clear  ftage  and  opportunity  of  making 
 their  way  in  life ;  fo  it  is  vain  for  a  perfon,  who  has 
 fpcnt  his  days  in  an  active  fphere,  to  think  of  enjoying 
 retirement,  before  the  time  of  retirement  be  come.  He 
 ■who  refolves  at  once  to  change  his  way  of  life  from  ac- 
 tion to  retirement,  or  from  one  ftate  to  another  diredlly 
 contrary,  without  being  prepared  for  it  by  proper  age 
 and  habit,  for  fom*e  continuance  of  time,  will  find,  that 
 he  will  no  fooner  have  quitted  his  former  way  of  life, 
 than  he  will  defire  to  be  in  it  again. 
 
 It  is  on  this,  as  w^ell  as  other  accounts  of  great  ad- 
 vantage, that  a  man  have  acquired  fome  turn  to  read- 
 ing, and  the  more  fober  entertainments  of  life,  in  his 
 earlier  days.  There  is  not  a  much  more  deplorable  fort 
 of  e:K.iftence,  than  that  which  is  dragged  on  by  an  old 
 man,  whofe  mind  is  unfurniftied  with  the  materials 
 proper  for  yielding  him  fome  entertainment  fuitable  to 
 the  more  fedate  time  of  life;  I  mean,  uleful  knowledge. 
 For  the  remembrance  of  fifty  years  fpent  in  fcraping  of 
 money,  or  in  purfuing  pleafure,  or  in  indulging  vicious 
 inclinations,  muft  yield  but  poor  entertainment  at  a  time 
 of  life,  when  a  man  can  at  bell  fay,  he  has  been, 
 
 SECT.     XIII. 
 
 Ofdijpofing  of  Effects  by  Will. 
 
 T  is  a  ftrange  weaknefs  in  ferae  people  to  be  averfe. 
 to  making  their  wills,  and  difpofing  of  their  efteds, 
 
 while 
 
 I 
 
Of  Prudence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  91 
 
 while  they  are  in  good  health,  and  have  eafe  of  mind, 
 and  a  found  judgment  to  do  it  in  a  proper  manner ;  as  if 
 a  man  mud  certainly  die  foon  after  he  has  made  his  will. 
 It  is  highly  proper,  that  people,  who  have  any  thing 
 confiderable  to  leave,  fliould  fettle  their  ailairs  in  fucli  \ 
 a  diftind  manner,  that  their  intentions  may  appear  plain 
 and  indifputable,  and  their  heirs  may  not  have  an  end- 
 lefs  and  vexatious  law-fuit,  inftead  of  a  fortune. 
 
 For  this  purpofe  I  would  advife,  that  a  gentleman,  at 
 his  leifure,  d/avv  up  a  (ketch  of  hir-  will,  leaving  the 
 names  of  the  legatees,  and  the  fums  blai^k,  if  he  choofes- 
 to  conceal  either  the  ftate  of  his  affairs,  or  the  perfons 
 he  intends  to  benefit  at  his  death.  This  draught  he 
 may  have  examined  by  thofe  who  are  judges  of  fuch 
 matters ;  fo  that  he  may  be  quite  eafy  as  to  the  condi- 
 tion he  leaves  his  wife  and  children,  or  other  rela- 
 tions in. 
 
 The  calamity  in  which  a  widow  and  orphans  are  in- 
 volved, who,  through  forae  quirk  of  law,  or  the  omif- 
 iion  of  fome  neceffary  formality,  find  themfelves  difap- 
 pointed  of  their  whole  dependence,  and  have  the  mor- 
 tification to  fee  an  heir  at  law  (to  the  fhame  of  law) 
 feize  on  what  the  deceafed  mtendcd  for  their  fupport  ; 
 the  circuaiftances,  I  lay,  of  a  family  thus  plunged  into 
 want  and  mifery,  from  the  faireft  expeclations,  are  to  the 
 laft  degree  deplorable.  £' 
 
 A  man  ought  to  confider  that  it  is  a  tender  point  for 
 an  affedionate  wife  to  touch  upon,  and  ought  to  fpare 
 her  the  trouble  of  foliciting  him  upon  this  head.  For 
 it  raufl  be  no  eafy  ftate  of  miqd  a  woman  mull  be  in, 
 xvho  confiders,  that  fhe  and  her  children  depend,  for 
 their  daily  bread,  upon  the  flender  thread  of  the  life  of 
 an  huiband,  who  at  the  fame  time  has  it  in  his  power 
 to  fecure  her  effectually  by  taking  only  a  very  little 
 trouble^ 
 
 It  is  an  unjuft  and  abfurd  pradice  of  many,  in  dif- 
 po{ir]g  of  their  effeds  by  will,  to  fhevv  fuch  exc^inve 
 partiality  to  fome  of  their  children  beyond  others.  To 
 leave  to  an  elded  fon  the  Vv'hole  eftate,  and  to  each  of 
 the  other  children  perhaps  one  year's  rent.  The  con- 
 f^quence,  indeed,  of  this  is  often,  that  the  heir,  find- 
 ing 
 
iyi.  THE  DIGNITY  OF  '  (Bock  5, 
 
 ing  himfelf  in  pofleilion  of  an  eftare,  concludes  he  fhall 
 never  be  able  to  run  it  out ;  and  uiay  be  got,  through 
 extravagance,  juft  within  fighr  of  want,  by  the  time  his 
 induftrious  brothers,  who,  having  no  fnch  funds  to  truft 
 to,  were  obliged  to  exert  tbcmieives,  have  got  eftates, 
 or  are  in  a  fair  way  toward  them.  This,  I  fay,  is  a 
 common  confequence  of  the  uneqaal  diftribution  of 
 eftates.  But,  whatever  the  conlequence  be,  it  feems 
 pretty  evident,  that  to  treat  fo  very  ditferently  thofe  who 
 are  alike  one's  offspring,  cannot  be  (tridUy  jult. 
 
 It  proves  often  a  fatal  error  in  the  difpofal  of  effeds 
 for  the  benefit  of  one's  family,  to  leave  them  in  the 
 hands  of  any  private  perfon  whatever,  efpecially  of  one 
 •udio  has  concerns  in  trade.  '1  he  Hate  of  fuch  a  one's 
 affairs  mull,  by  the  very  courfe  of  trade,  be  fo  liable  to 
 change,  that  no  money  can  be  abfolutely  fafe  which  he 
 can  lay  his  hands  upon.  We  fee  every  day  inflances  of 
 the  failure  of  traders,  who  have  generally  paffed  for  men 
 of  firft-rate  fortunes,  and  often  fee  young  families  ruined 
 by  their  ruin.  If  it  be  plain,  that  the  public  funds  arq 
 at  leatt  a  more  probable  fecurity  than  any  private,  one 
 would  think  it  natural  to  fix  upon  the  beft,  fince  evei;| 
 .the  bell  is  not  too  fecure. 
 
 SECT.     XIV. 
 
 ^    Of  old  Age. 
 
 WHEN  people  draw  toward  old  age,  the  infirmi- 
 ties of  nature,  joined  with  the  various  ills  of  life, 
 become  more  and  more  grievous;  and  flrength  of  mind 
 continually  decaying,  the  burden  becomes  at  lait  hardly 
 fupportable.  To  wave,  for  the  prefent,  ail  moral  or 
 religious  confiderations,  I  will  only  obferve,  that,  if  one 
 would,  in  any  period  of  life,  or  under  any  diftrefs  what- 
 ever, defire  to  have. his  grievances  as  tolerable  as  poffible, 
 there  is  no  furer  means  for  that  end,  than  to  endeavour 
 to  preferve  an  equal,  compofed,  and  reiigned  temper  of 
 mind.  To  ftruggle,  and  fret,  and  rage  at  every  misfor- 
 tune or  hardlhip,  is  tearing  open  the  wound,  and  ma- 
 king it  fefter.  Compofing  the  mind  to  contentment  and 
 patience  is  the  moft  likely  means  to  heal  it  up-     It  is 
 
 therefore 
 
Pf  Prudence.;  HUMAN  NATURE'.  H 
 
 therefore  obvious  what  conciud:  prudence  diredts  to  in: 
 the  cafe  of  dillrels  or  bardfliip. 
 
 But  in  what  light  does  this  Ihew  the  prudence  of 
 many  people  ?  Do  we  not  fee,  that  they,  who  have  no' 
 confiderabie  real  diftielTes  in  life  to  ilruggle  with,  take 
 -care  to  make  themleives  niiferable,  by  muiiering  up 
 imaginary,  or  heightening  inconfiderable  misfortunes? 
 Does  not  a  courtier,  in  the  raidft  of  affluence,  and  with 
 independence  in  his  power,  make  himfelf  as  unhappy 
 about  a  cold  look  from  the  miniiler,  as  a  poor  tradefmars 
 is  at  the  iofs  of  his  principal  cuftoraer?  Is  not  a  liiie  lady 
 as  much  diftreffed,  if  her  lap-dog  has  a  fit  of  the  cholic, 
 as  a  poor  woman  about  the  iicknefs  of  a  child  ?  Such 
 imaginary  unfortunates  complain  heavily  of  the  affliclioris 
 of  life,  while  neither  labours  under  any  worth  mention- 
 ing but  what  are  of  their  own  making. 
 
 When  people  have  all  their  lives  allowed  themfelveS' 
 to  give  way  to  foolifn  dilcontent  and  uneafinefs,  it  is  na 
 wonder  if,  when  they  come  to  old  age,  they  find  thera- 
 felves  unhaopy,  and  by  their  peeviflinefs  make  all  about 
 them  unhappy,  and  put  it  in  their  hearts  to  w^ifa  them 
 well  out  of  the  world. 
 
 The  art  of  grovt'ing  old  with  a  good  grace  is  none  of 
 the  leaft  confiderabie  in  life.  In  order  to  this,  it  is  ab- 
 folutely  necelTary,  that  a  man  have  fpelit  the  former 
 part  of  his  days  in  a  manner  confiftent  with  reafon  and 
 religion.  He  who  has  paffed  his  life  wholly  in  fecular 
 purfuits,  in  grafping  at  riches,  in  afpiring  after  prefer- 
 ments, in  amufing  himfelf  with  fhew  and  oitentation, 
 in  wallowing  in  fenfuality  and  voluptuoufnefs,  what 
 foundation  has  he  laid  for  paffing  old  age  with  dignity? 
 What«is  more  univerfally  defpifed  than  an  old  man,, 
 whofe  mind,  unftored  with  knowledge,  and  unaffedied 
 with  a  fenfe  of  goodnefs,  ilill  grovels  after  the  objeds  of 
 fenfe,  flill  hankers  after  the  (cenes  which. formerly  en- 
 gaged him ;  j'cenes  of  vanity  and  folly  in  any  age,  but  in  the 
 graver  part  of  life  unnatural  and  mo-nilrous?  Yet  there  is 
 nothing  more  certain  ^for  univerfal  experience  confirms 
 it)  than  that  according  as  a  perfon  has  formed  his  mind  in 
 the  younger  pait  of  life,  fuch  it  will  be  to  the  lafi.  The 
 ruling  pailion  feldom  fails,  till  all  fails.     He  who  has 
 
 made 
 
94  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  L 
 
 made  the  bottle  his  chief  delight,  will  drink  on  even 
 when  he  has  hardly  breath  to  1  wallow  a  glafs  of  wine. 
 The  impure  letcher  will  creep  after  his  miftrefs,  when 
 his  knees  knock  together.  The  mifer,  who  has  all  his 
 life  made  riches  his  god,  will  be  fcrambling  after  the 
 wealth  of  this  world,  vvith  one  foot  in  the  other.  The 
 vain  coquet  will  fhcw  affedtation,  when  flie  can  no 
 longer  move  any  paffion  but  pity.  The  brainlefs  card- 
 pla^z^ej;  vvili  wafte  the  laft  lawful  remains  of  life  in  an 
 amufement  unworthy  of  the  moft  confiderate  age.  Even 
 when  all  is  over,  how  do  we  fee  many  old  people  in 
 their  converfarion  dwell  with  pleafure  on  the  vanities, 
 and  even  the  vices  of  their  younger  days  ? 
 
 How  lliould  it  be  otherwife,  than  that  the  mind, 
 which  has  been  for  fifty  years  together  conftantly  bent 
 one  way,  fliould  preferve  to  the  end  the  caft  it  has  re- 
 ceived and  kept  fo  long  ?  In  the  fame  manner,  thcfe 
 who  have  been  fo  wile,  as  to  view  life  in  its  proper 
 light,  as  a  tranfient  ftate,  to  be  temperately  enjoyed 
 while  it  lafts ;  who  have  improved  their  minds  with 
 knowledge,  and  enriched  them  with  virtue  and  piety  ; 
 have  qualified  themfelves  for  adling  the  laft  concluding 
 fcene  with  the  fame  propriety  as  the  reft.  To  fuch, 
 their  finding  themfelves  uiiequal  to  the  adive  or  the 
 gayer  fcenes  of  life,  is  no  manner  of  mortification.  In- 
 different to  them,  while  engaged  in  them,  they  quit 
 them  with  indifference  j  fure  to  find  in  retirement  a 
 fund  of  the  nobleft  entertainment  from  fober  and  wife 
 converfation,  from  reading,  and  from  views  of  that  fu- 
 ture world,  for  which  the  confcience  of  a  well-fpent 
 life  alllires  thenf  of  their  being  in  a  ftjte  of  preparation. 
 Ufeful  by  their  wife  and  pious  converfation  while  they 
 live,  they  go  off"  the  ftage  lamented,  leaving  behind 
 them  the  fweet  favour  of  u  gooa  name,  and  the  univcrfai 
 approbation  of  the  wife  and  good. 
 
 SECT.     XV. 
 
 Of  the  Dignity  of  Female  Life^  prudentially  confidered, 
 
 WITHOUT   the  g.-meral    concurrence  of  both 
 fcxes  in  a  prudent  and  virtuous  condud,  the 
 
 perfedion 
 
Of  Prudence.)  HUMAN  NAT  tT  RE.  95 
 
 perfedlion  of  human  nature  is  not  to  be  attained.  The 
 influence  which  the  fair  fex  have,  and  ought  to  have 
 in  life,  is  fo  great,  that  their  good  behaviour  can  give 
 a  general  turn  to  the  face  of  human  affairs ;  and  a  great 
 deal  more  than  is  commonly  imagined  depends  upon 
 their  difcretion  ;  lince  (to  fay  nothing  of  their  influence 
 over  our  fex,  in  the  characters  of  miflireflTes  and  wives) 
 the  minds  of  the  whole  fpecies  receive  their  firft  eaii 
 fjTom  womankind. 
 
 The  dignity  of  female  life,  exclufive  of  what  is  com- 
 mon to  boih  fexes,  conlifls  in  an  equal  mixture  of  the 
 referve  with  benevolence  in  the  virgin-flate,  and  affec- 
 tion and  fubmiffion  in  that  of  marriage  ;  a  diligent  at- 
 tention to  the  forming  of  the  tempers  of  children  of  both 
 fexes  in  their  eariieil  years,  (for  that  lies  wholly  upon 
 the  mother)  and  the  whole  education  of  the  daughters: 
 for  I  know  of  none  fo  proper  for  young  ladies  as  a  home- 
 education. 
 
 The  greatefl;  errors  and  dangers  to  be  avoided  by  lad- 
 dies are  comprehended  in  the  following  paragraphs. 
 
 Vanity  in  womankind  is,  if  poffible,  more  abfurd  than 
 in  the  other  fex.  Men  have  bodily  itrength,  authority, 
 learning,  and  i'uch  like  pretences,  for  pufling  themfelves 
 up  with  pride  :  But  woman's  only  peculiar  boafl:  is 
 beauty.  For  virtue  and  good  fenfe  are  never  the  fub- 
 jeds  of  vanity. 
 
 There  is  no  endowment  of  lefs  confequence  than  ele- 
 gance of  form  and  outflde.  A  raafs  of  flefli,  blood,  hu- 
 mours, and  impurities,  covered  over  with  a  well-co- 
 loured fl^in,  is  the  definition  of  beauty.  Whether  is 
 this  more  properly  a  matter  of  vanity,  or  of  mortifica- 
 tion ?  Were  it  incomparably  more  excellent  than  it  is, 
 nothing  can  be  more  abfurd  than  to  be  proud  of  what 
 one  has  had  no  manner  of  hand  in  procuring,  but  is 
 wholly  the  gift  of  Heaven.  A  woman  may  as  reafon- 
 ably  be  proud  of  the  lilies  of  the  field,  or  the  tulips 
 of  the  garden,  as  of  the  beauty  of  her  own  face.  They 
 are  both  the  works  of  the  fame  hand  -,  equally  out  of 
 human  power  to  give,  or  to  preferve  ;  equally  trifling 
 and  defpicable,  when  compared  with  v»'hat  is  fubftan- 
 tially  excellent  \  eoually  frail  and  perifhing.  , 
 
 Affedation 
 
^6  TtlE  DIGNITY  or  (Book!. 
 
 AiTcCiation  is  a  vice  capable  of  difgracing  beauty 
 wori'e  than  pimples,  or  the  fmall-pox.  1  have  often 
 fecii  ladies  in  public  places,  of  the  mod  exquifite  forms, 
 render  thernfelves,  by  atfertation  and  vifible  conceit,  too 
 odious  to  be  looked  at  without  di/gull ;  who,  by  a  mo- 
 delt  and  truly  female  behaviour,  might  have  commanded 
 the  admiration  of  every  eye-  Bat  I  lliali  fay  the  lefs  upon 
 this  head,  in  conliderarion,  that  it  is,  generally  fpeak- 
 ing,  to  our  fex  that  female  aifedation  is  to  be  charged. 
 A  woman  cannot  indeed  become  completely  foolidj,  or 
 vicious,  without  our  ailiftance. 
 
 Talkotivenefs  in  either  lex  is  generally  a  proof  of  va- 
 nity and  foliy,  but  is  in  womankind,  efpecially  in  com- 
 pany with  men,  and  above  all  with  men  of  underftand- 
 ing  and  learning,  wholly  out  of  charader,  and  peculiarly 
 difagreeable  to  people  of  leiife. 
 
 If  we  appeal  either  to  reafon,  fcripture,  or  univerfal 
 confent,  we  fliali  find  a  degree  of  lubmiffion  to  the  male 
 fex  to  be  an  indifpenfible  part  of  the  female  charader. 
 And  to  fet  up  for  an  equality  with  the  fex  to  which  na- 
 ture has  given  the  advantage,  and  formed  for  authority 
 and  adion,  is  oppoling  nature,  which  is  never  done 
 innocently. 
 
 The  great  hazard  run  by  tlie  female  fex,  and  the  point 
 in  which  their  prudence  or  weaknefs  appears  moil  con- 
 fpicuous,  is  in  love  matters.  To  a  woman's  condud: 
 with  regard  to  the  other  fex,  is  owing,  more  than  to  all 
 other  things,  the  happinefs  or  milery  of  her  exiftence  in 
 this  world  ;  for  I  am  at  prefent  only  confidering  things' 
 in  a  prudential  light. 
 
 A  woman  cannot  ad  an  imprudent  part  in  liflehing 
 to  the  propofal  of  a  lover,  whether  of  the  honourable 
 or  difnonourable  kind,  without  bringing  herfelf  to  ruin, 
 irretrievable.  If  fhe  docs  but  feem  to  hear  with  pa- 
 tience the  wanton  fe^ucer,  her  fame  is  irrecoverably 
 blalted,  and  her  value  for  ever  funk.  The  mere  fufpi- 
 cion  of  guilt,  or  even  of  inclination,  foils  her  reputa- 
 tion ;  and  Inch  is  the  delicacy  of  virgin-purity,  that  a 
 puff  of  foul  breath  flains  it ;  and  all  the  llreams  that, 
 flow  will  not  reftore  its  former  luftre.  Nothing  there- 
 fore can  exceed  the  folly  of  fo  much  as  hearing  one  figh 
 
 of 
 
Of  Prudence.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  .5p7 
 
 of  the  diihonourable  lover:  His  raptures  are  only  the 
 exprellions  of  his  impure  defire.  His  admiration  of  the 
 beautiful  and  innocent,  is  only  the  effect  of  eagernefs  to 
 gratify  his  filthy  paffion,  by  the  ruin  of  beauty  and  in- 
 nocence. He  pretends  to  love  :  but  fo  may  the  wolf  de- 
 clare his  delire  to  devour  the  lamb.  Both  love  their 
 prey  :   but  it  is  only  to  deftroy. 
 
 Again,  with  refpeft  to  honourable  propofal?,  prudence 
 will  fuggeft  to  a  woman,  that  the  hazard  fhe  runs  in 
 throwing  herfelf  away,  is  incomparably  more  defperate 
 than  that  of  the  other  fex,  who  have  every  advantage 
 for  bettering  or  bearing  their  afflidions  of  every  kind. 
 The  cafe  of  the  man,  who  is  unhappily  married,  is  ca- 
 lamitous ;  but  that  of  the  woman,  who  has  a  bad  huf- 
 band,  is  defperate,  and  incurable  but  by  death. 
 
 If  there  be  any  general  rule  for  ladies  to  judge  of  the 
 characters  of  men,  who  offer  them  propoials  of  mar- 
 riage, it  may  be.  To  find  out  what  figure  they  make 
 among  their  fex.  It  is  to  be  fuppofed,  that  men  are ' 
 generally  qualified  to  judge  of  one  another's  merits; 
 and  as  our  fex  are  accultoraed  to  lefs  delicacy  and  re- 
 ferve  than  the  other,  it  is  not  impoflible  to  come  at 
 men's  real  charaders,  efpecially  with  regard  to  their  tem- 
 pers and  difpolitions,  upon  which  the  happinefs  of  the 
 married  life  depends,  more  than  upon  capacity,  learn- 
 ing, or  wealth. 
 
 Too  great  a  delight  in  drefs  and  finery,  befides  the 
 expence  of  time  and  money,  which  they  occafion,  in 
 fome  inftances,  to  a  degree  beyond  all  bounds  of  decency 
 and  common  fenfe,  tend  naturally  to  fink  a  woman  to 
 the  lowed  pitch  of  contempt  among  all  thofe  of  either 
 fex,  who  have  capacity  enough  to  put  two  thoughts  to- 
 gether. A  creature  who  fpends  its  whole  time  in  drefs- 
 ing,  gaming,  prating,  and  gadding,  is  a  being  originally 
 indeed  of  the  rational  make;  but  who  has  funk  itfelf 
 beneath  its  rank,  and  is  to  be  confider^d  at  prefent  as 
 nearly  on  a  level  with  the  monkey-fpecies, 
 
 H  SECT. 
 
95'  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  L 
 
 SECT.     XVI. 
 
 Mifcellaneoiis  Tljoitghts  on  pjiidence  in  Acllon, 
 
 TO  purfae  worthy  ends  by  wife  means  is  the  whole 
 of  ad:ive  prudence.  And  this  muft  be  done  with 
 refolution,  dihgence,  and  perfevcrance,  till  the  point  is 
 gained,  or  appears  impradicable. 
 
 To  retort  an  injury,  is  to  be  almoft  as  bad  as  the  ag- 
 grelibr.  Vv  hen  two  throw  dirt  againft  one  another,  can- 
 either  keep  himfelf  clean  ? 
 
 Adion  and  contemplation  are  no  way  inconfiftent ; 
 but  rather  reliefs  to  one  another.  When  you  are  en- 
 gaged in  (ludy,  throw  bufinefs  out  of  your  thoughts. 
 When  in  bufinefs,  think  of  your  bufinefs  only. 
 
 To  a  man  of  bufinefs,  knowledge  is  an  ornament.  To 
 a  ftudious  man,  action  is  a  relief. 
 
 If  you  ever  promife  at  all,  take  care,  at  leaft,  that  it 
 be  fo  as  nobody  may  faffer  by  trufting  to  you.. 
 
 If  you  have  debtors,  let  not  your  lenity  get  the  better 
 of  your  prudence;  nor  your  care  of  your  own  interell 
 make  you  forget  humanity.  A  prifon  is  not  for  the  un- 
 fortunate, but  the  knavifli. 
 
 Traclablenefs  to  advice,  and  firmnefs  againft  tempta- 
 tion, are  no  way  inconfiftent. 
 
 There  is  more  true  greatnefs  in  generoufly  owning  a 
 fault,  and  making  proper  reparation  for  it,  than  in  ob- 
 ftinately  defending  a  wrong  conduft.  But,  quitting 
 your  purpofe,  retreat  rather  like  a  lion  than  a  cur. 
 
 A  mind  hardened  againit  aiHidion,  and  a  body  a- 
 gainft  pain  and  licknefs,  are  the  two  fecurities  of  earthly 
 happinefs. 
 
 Let  a  perfon  find  out  his  own  peculiar  weaknefs,  and 
 be  ever  fufpicious  of  himfelf  on  that  iide.  Let  a  paf- 
 iionate  man,  for  example,  refolve  always  to  fnew  lefs 
 refentraent  than  reafon  might  juftify  ;  there  is  no  dan- 
 ger of  his  erring  on  that  iide.  Let  a  talkative  man  re- 
 folve always  to  fay  lefs  than  the  moil  talkative  perfon  in 
 the  conpany  he  is  in.  If  one  has  reafon  to  fufpedx  him- 
 felf of  loving  money  too  much,  let  him  give  always  at 
 leaft  fomewhat  hipre  than  has  been  given  by  a  noted, 
 mifer. 
 
 A  man^ 
 
Of  Prudence.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  99 
 
 A  man,  who  does  not  know  in  general  his  own  weak- 
 nefs,  muft  either  be  a  perlbn  of  high  rank,  or  a  fool. 
 
 How  comes  it  that  we  judge  fo  feverely  the  aclions 
 we  did  a  great  while  ago  ?  It  is  becaufe  we  are  now  at 
 a  proper  didance,  and  look  upon  them  with  an  indiffe- 
 rent eye,  as  on  thofe  of  another  perfon.  The  very  ob- 
 jeds  which  now  employ  us  fo  much,  and  the  conduct 
 we  now  juftify  fo  ftrenuoufly,  can  we  fay  that  the  time 
 will  not  come  when  we  fhall  look  upon  them  as  v/e  now 
 do  upon  our  follies  of  ten  or  twenty  years  back'v^rds? 
 Wiiy  can  we  not  view  ourfelvcs,  and  our  own  beha- 
 viour, at  all  times  in  the  fame  manner?  This  fhews 
 our  partiality  for  ourfelves  in  a  moft  abfurd  light. 
 
 When  you  are  dead,  the  letters  which  compofe  your 
 name  will  be  no  more  to  you  than  the  rell  of  the  al- 
 phabet. Leave  the  rage  of  fame  to  wits  and  heroes. 
 Do  you  ftrive  to  live  ufefully  in  this  world,  and  yoii 
 will  be  happy  in  the  next. 
 
 It  is  bed  if  you  can  keep  quite  clear  of  the  great. 
 Bat  if  you  happen  at  any  time  to  be  thrait  into  their 
 company,  keep  up  in  your  behaviour  to  them  the  dig- 
 nity of  a  man  of  fpirit  and  worth,  which  is  the  only  true 
 greatnefs.  If  you  fneak  and  cringe,  they  will  trample 
 upon  you. 
 
 Beware  of  mean-fpirited  people.  They  are  com- 
 monly revengeful  and  malicious. 
 
 The  following  advantages  are  likely  to  make  a  com- 
 pletely  accompliilied    man.      i.  Good    natural    parts. 
 2.  A  good  temper.     3.  Good  and  general   education, 
 begun  early.     4.  Choice,   not   immenfe,   reading,  and  ' 
 careful  digeding.     5.  Experience  of  various  fortune. 
 
 6.  Converfation  with   men  of  letters  and  of  bufinefs, 
 
 7.  Knowledge  of  the  world,  gained  by  converfation, 
 bufinefs,  and  travel. 
 
 if  the  world  fufpsdl  your  w^ell-intended  defigns,  be 
 not  uneafy.  It  only  fhews  that  mankind  are  themfelves 
 falfe  and  artful,  which  is  the  caufe  of  their  being  fuf- 
 picious. 
 
 Never  fet  up  for  a  jack-in-an-office.  Men  of  real 
 worth  are  modeft,  and  decline  employment,  though 
 much  Utter  for  it  than   thofe  who  thrull  themfelves 
 
 H  3  forward. 
 
 «:^' 
 
loo  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  L 
 
 forward.     Bat  if  good  can  be  done,  do  it,  if  no  one 
 elfe  will. 
 
 How  much  lefs  trouble  it  cods  a  well-difpofed  mind 
 to  pardon,  than  to  revenge  I 
 
 If  your  enemy  is  forced  to  have  recourfe  to  a  lie  to 
 blacken  you,  confider  what  a  comfort  it  is  to  think  of 
 your  having  fupported  fuch  a  charader,  as  to  render  it 
 impofable  for  malice  to  hurt  you  without  the  aid  of 
 faliehood.  And  truft  to  the  genuine  faiinefs  of  your 
 characfer  to  clear  itfcif  in  the  end. 
 
 Whoever  has  gone  through  much  of  life,  muft  re- 
 member, that  he  has  thrown  away  a  great  deal  of  ufe^ 
 lefs  uneafmefs  upon  what  was  much  vvorfe  in  his  appre- 
 benfion,  than  in  reality. 
 
 A  mifer  v;ill  fometimes  ferve  you  any  way  you  pleafc 
 to  a(k  him,  purely  to  lave  bis  money. 
 
 If  you  give  away  nothing  till  you  die,  even  your 
 ovvn  children  will  hardly  thank  you  for  what  you  leave 
 them. 
 
 A  great  number  of  fmall  favours  will  engage  fome 
 people  more  to  you,  than  one  great  one.  And  where 
 they  hope  for  more  and  more,  they  will  be  willing  to 
 go  on  to  ferve  you. 
 
 An  idle,peribn  is  dead  before  his  time. 
 
 The  great  difficulty  of  behaTiour  is  in  cafe  of  furprife. 
 
 The  truell  objects  of  charity  are  thofe  whom  modeily 
 conceals, 
 
 A  generous  man  does  not  lofe  by  a  generous  man. 
 
 It  will  be  a  great  misfortune  to  you,  if  an  intimate 
 friend,  or  near  relation,  fails  into  poverty.  You  mull 
 either  lend  your  affiflance,  or  be  ill-looked  upon.  And 
 people  are  often  blamed  for  niggardlinefs,  when,  if 
 all  the  truth  were  known,  (which  might  be  very  im- 
 proper) they  would  be  juftified  in  having  given  to  the 
 full  extent  of  their  abilities. 
 
 A  man's  charader  and  behaviour  in  public,  and  at 
 home,  are  often  as  different  as  a  lady's  looks  at  a  ball, 
 and  in  a  morning  before  fhe  has  gone  through  the  ce- 
 remony of  the  toilet.  But  real  merit,  like  artlefs  beau- 
 ty, ftiines  forth  at  all  times  diHinguiliiingJy  illuftrious. 
 
 There 
 
Of 'Prudence.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  loi 
 
 There  is  nothing  more  agreeable  to  Human  Nature, 
 than  to  have  fomeWhat  moderately  to  employ  both  mind 
 and  body.  There  is  nothing  more  unnatural  than  for 
 a  creature  endowed  with  various  aclive  powers  to  be 
 wholly  inactive.  Hence  the  lilly  and  mifchievous  in- 
 ventions of  cards,  dice,  and  other  amufements,  which 
 empty  people  have  been  obliged  to  have  recourfe  to,  as 
 a  kind  of  artificial  employments,  to  prevent  human  na- 
 ture from  finking  into  an  abfolute  lethargy.  Why 
 might  not  our  luxurious  wafiiers  of  Heaven's  mofi:  in- 
 eftmiable  gift,  as  well  employ  the  lame  eagernefs  of  ac- 
 tivity in  fomewhat  that  might  turn  to  account  to  theniv- 
 felves  and  others,  as  in  the  infipid  and  unprofitable 
 drudgerv  of  the  card-table  ? 
 
 To  ferve  your  friends  to  your  ov^'o  ruin,  is  rcmantic. 
 To  think  of  none  but  yourfelf,  is  fordid. 
 
 Riches  and  happinels  have  nothing  to  do  with  one 
 another,  though  extreme  poverty  and  mifery  be  nearly 
 related. 
 
 Judge  of  yourfelf  by  that  refpe^fi:  you  have  volunta- 
 rily paid  you  by  men  of  undoubted  integrity  and  dif- 
 cernment,  and  who  have  no  interell:  to  flatter  you.  ACt 
 up  to  your  character.  Support  your  dignity.  But  do 
 not  make  yourfelf  unhappy,  if  you  meet  not  with  the 
 honour  you  deferve  from  thole  whole  efieem  no  one, 
 vahies. 
 
 Defpife  trifling  affronts,  and  they  will  v-aniih.  A 
 little  water  will  put  out  a  fire,  which,  blown  up,  would 
 burn  a  city. 
 
 -Give  away  what  you  can  part  with.  Throw  away 
 Eothing :  you  know  not  how  much  you  may  mils  it. 
 
 Provide  for  after-life,  fo  as  to  enjoy  the  prefent.  En- 
 joy the  prefent,  fo  as  to  leave  a  provifion  for  the  lime  to 
 Gome. 
 
 Avoid  too  many  and  great  obligations.  It  is  running 
 into  debt  beyond  what  you  may  be  able  to  pay. 
 
 Conclude  at  leall  nine  parts  in  ten  of  what  is  iiandcd 
 about  by  common  fame  to  be  falfe. 
 
 Wealth  is  a  good  lervant,  but  a  bad  mafter. 
 
 Do  not  offend  a  bad  man,  becaufe  he  will  flick  at 
 jnothipg  to  be  revenged.     It  is  cruel  to  infult  a  good 
 
 H  3  man, 
 
102  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  t 
 
 man,  who  deferves  nothing  but  good.  A  great  man 
 may  calily  criiili  you.  And  there  is  none  lb  mean  who 
 cannot  do  mifchief.  Therefore  follow  peace  with  all 
 men. 
 
 To  carry  the  triumph  over  a  perfon  you  have  got  the 
 "better  of,  too  far,  is  mean  and  imprudent :  it  is  mean, 
 bccaufe  you  have  got  the  better  ;  it  is  imprudent',  be- 
 caufe  it  may  provoke  him  to  revenge  your  infolence  in 
 fome  defpcrate  way. 
 
 Prefents  ought  to  be  genteel,  not  expenfive  :  they 
 are  not  valued  by  generous  minds  for  their  own  fake, 
 but  as  marks  of  love  or  efteem. 
 
 Provide  for  the  word  :  but  hope  the  beft. 
 Set  about  nothing,  without  firft  thinking  it  over  care- 
 fully.    To  fay,  *'  I  did  not  think  of  that,"  is  much 
 the  fame  as  faying,  "  You  muft  know,  I  am  a  lim- 
 "  pleton." 
 
 Whoever  anticipates  troubles,  will  find  he  has  thrown 
 away  a  great  deal  of  terror  and  anguifli  to  no  purpofe. 
 Accuftom  yourfelf  to  have  fome  employment  for 
 every  hour  you  can  prudently  fnatch  from  bufinefs. 
 This  book  v/as  put  together  in  that  manner,  elfe  it  could 
 never  have  been  writ  by  its  author. 
 
 Live  fo,  as  nobody  may  believe  bad  reports  againfl 
 you. 
 
 Whenever  you  find  you  do  not  care  to  look  into  your 
 affairs,  you  may  affure  yourfelf  that  they  will  foon  not 
 be  fit  to  look  into. 
 
 Reform  yourfelf  firft,   and  then  others. 
 Do  not  place  your  happinefs  in  eafe  from  pain  :  there 
 is  no  fuch  thing  in  this  world ;  but  in  patience  under 
 affliclion,  which  is  within  your  reach.     - 
 
 If  you  are  a  mafter,  do  not  deprive  yourfelf  of  fo  great 
 a  rarity  as  a  good  fervant  for  a  flight  offence.  If  you 
 are  a  dependent,  do  not  throw  yourfelf  out  of  a  good 
 place  for  a  flight  affront. 
 
 Do  what  good  offices  you  can  :  but  leave  yourfelf  at 
 liberty  from  promifes  and  engagements. 
 
 Let  no  one  overload  you  with  favours :  you  will  find 
 it  an  unfufferable  burden, 
 
 Ther^ 
 
QJPndenct.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  103 
 
 There  are  many  doublings  in  the  human  heart :  do 
 not  think  yon  can  find  out  rhe  whole  of  a  man's  real 
 rcharad"er  at  once,  unlefs  he  is  a  fool. 
 
 If  yon  would  embroil  yourfelf  with  all  mankind  at 
 once,  you  have  only  to  oppofe  every  man's  prevailing 
 paffion.  Endeavour  to  mortify  the  proud  man  ;  irritate 
 the  paffionate  ;  put  the  miier  to  expence  ;  and  you  will 
 have  them  all  againft  you.  On  the  other  hand,  if  yon 
 had  rather  live  peaceably,  give  way  a  little  to  the  par- 
 ticular weaknefs  of  thofe  you  converfe  with. 
 
 It  will  take  fome  time  to  raife  your  fortune  in  a  fair 
 way,  and  to  fit  you  for  a  better  world:  it  will  therefore 
 be  proper  to  begin  a  courfe  of  induftry  and  piety  as 
 early  as  poilible. 
 
 Aim  at  defert  rather  than  rew^ard. 
 
 Let  no  pretence  of  friendfliip  miilead  you  :  he  is  nat 
 ■your  friend  who  attempts  it. 
 
 Never  keep  a  bad  fervant,  in  hope  of  his  reformation* 
 
 It  is  feldom  that  either  borrower  or  lender  gets  by 
 the  bargain. 
 
 Think  yourfelf  cheap  off  with  a  little  fcandal  for  ex- 
 traordinary goodnefs :  how  many  have  paid  their  live© 
 for  their  integrity? 
 
 The  friendfnip  of  an  artful  man  is  mere  felf-intereft: 
 you  will  get  nothing  by  it. 
 
 If  you  truft  a  known  knave,  people  will  not  fo  much 
 as  pity  you,  v/hen  you  fuffer  by  him. 
 
 In  dealing  with  a  perfon  you  fufpecl,  it  may  be  ufe- 
 ful  in  converfation  to  draw  him  into  difficulties,  if  pof- 
 fible,  as  they  crof^-examine  witnclTes  at  the  bar,  in  or- 
 der to  find  out  the  truth.  It  may  even  be  of  ufe  to  fet 
 him  a  talking;  in  the  inadvertency  and  hurry  of  con- 
 verfation, he  may  dilcover  himfelf. 
 
 Confider  how  difficult  a  thing  it  mud  be  to  deceive 
 the  general  eye  of  mankind,  who  are  as  much  interefied 
 to  detedl  you,  as  you  are  to  deceive  them. 
 
 He  is  furely  a  man  of  a  greater  reach,  who  can  con- 
 duA  his  affairs  without  being  obliged  to  have  recourfe 
 to  tricks  and  te.mporary  expedients,  than  with  them  ;  he 
 who  knows  how  to  fecure  the  intereft  both  of  this  world 
 and  the  next,  than  he   who  caimot  contrive  to  get  a 
 
 H  4  comfortablf 
 
'JC4  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Bock  I. 
 
 comfortable  fubfiftence  in  this  world  without  damning 
 Jiis  foul. 
 
 It  is  foolifh  to  fhew  your  teeth  when  you  cannot  bit^ 
 
 Whoever  loves  injuries,  let  him  provoke  injuries. 
 
 In  profperity,  prepare  for  a  change  :  in  adverfity, 
 hope  for  one. 
 
 If  you  are  ill-ufed  by  a  man,  efpecially  a  great  one, 
 put  up  with  the  injury  quietly,  andbe  thankful  it  was  not 
 worfe.  When  they  do  but  a  little  mifchief,  the  world 
 has  a  good  pennyworth  of  them. 
 
 If  you  let  alone  making  your  will  till  you  come  to  a 
 death-bed,  you  will  not  do  it  properly. 
 
 If  you  give  at  all,  do  it  cheerfully. 
 
 If  you  want  to  flievv  a  perfon,  that  you  fee  through 
 his  crafty  defigns,  a  hint  between  jeft  and  earneft  may 
 do  better  than  telling  him  bluntly  and  fully  how  he 
 Hands  in  your  mind  ;  from  a  little,  he  will  guefs  the 
 reft. 
 
 With  the  multiplicity  of  bufinefs  every  perfon  has 
 to  do,  how  can  people  complain  of  being  diftrelTed  for 
 fomewhat  to  pafs  the  time  ?  Befides  private  affairs  to 
 condud,  or  overfee  ;  children  to  form  to  wifdom  and 
 virtue  ;  the  diftrelTed  to  relieve  ;  the  unthinking  to 
 advife  ;  friends  and  country  to  ferve ;  their  own  paf- 
 lions  to  conquer ;  their  minds  to  furnifti  with  know- 
 ledge, virtue,  and  religion  ;  a  whole  eternity's  happi- 
 nefs  to  provide  for. 
 
 Try  a  friend  before  you  truft  him.  Truft  him  no 
 more  than  is  neceffary.  Bear  with  any  weaknefs  that 
 does  not  ftrike  at  the  root  of  friendlhip.  If  a  ditFerence 
 arife,  bring  the  matter  to  a  calm  hearing.  Make  up 
 the  breach,  if  poflible.  But  if  friendfliip  languillies 
 for  any  time,  let  it  expire  peaceably. 
 
 There  is  as  much  meannefs  in  taking  every  trifle  for 
 an  affront,  as  in  putting  up  with  the  groffeft  indignity. 
 The  firft  is  the  charadter  of  a  bully  ;  the  latter  of  a 
 coward:  which  of  the  two  had  you  rather  be  ? 
 
 In  all  fchemes,  leave  room  for  the  poiTibility  of  a  mif- 
 carriage. 
 
 Thofe  are  the  beft  diverfions,  which  moft  relieve  the 
 vn'ind,  and  exeucife  the  body;  and  which  bring  the 
 
 •  lea^ 
 
VfPnuIence.J         HUMAN  NATURE.  105 
 
 lead  expence  of  time  and  money.  Mirth  is  one  thing* 
 and  milchief  another. 
 
 It  is  ftrange  to  refledl  a  little  upon  fome  of  the  irre- 
 concilable contrarieties  in  human  nature.  Nothing 
 feeras  more  (Irongly  worked  into  the  conllitution  of  the 
 mind,  than  the  love  of  liberty.  Yet  how  very  ready 
 are  we  in  fome  cafes  to  give  up  our  liberty  r  What 
 more  tyrannical  than  fafliion  ?  Yet  how  do  all  ranks, 
 fexes,  and  ages  enllave  themfelves  in  obedience  to  it  ? 
 There  is  great  reafon  to  believe  that  it  is  wholly  in  com- 
 pliance with  cuftom,  that  many  judicious,  thinking  peo- 
 ple, wafte  fo  many  valuable  hours  as  we  fee  they  do, 
 at  an  araufement,  which  muft  be  a  flavery  to  perfons 
 capable  of  thought,  1  mean  the  card-table.  But  liicli 
 people  ought  to  confider,  how  they  can  juRify  to  them- 
 felves the  throwing  away  fo  great  a  part  of  precious 
 life,  beiides  giving  their  countenance  to  a  bad  pradice; 
 merely  becaufe  it  is  the  fafhion. 
 
 Eeitir  yourfelf  while  young :  you  will  want  reft 
 when  old. 
 
 Do  not  wifh  ;  but  do. 
 
 Truft  not  relations,  unlefs  they  be  fuch  as  you  would 
 think  worthy  of  truft,  if  they  were  ftrangers. 
 
 If  you  are  not  worth  a  fliilling  after  all  your  debts 
 are  paid,  do  not  fpend  a  fliilling  that  you  can  fave. 
 Do  not  fquander  away  your  hopes. 
 
 If  you  can  live  independent,  never  give  up  your 
 liberty,  and  your  leifure,  much  lefs  your  confcience,  to 
 a  great  man.  He  has  nothing  to  give  in  return  for 
 them.  If  you  can  but  be  contented  in  moderate  cir- 
 curaftances,  you  may  be  happy,  and  keep  your  inefti- 
 mable  liberty,  leifure,  and  integrity  into  the  bargain. 
 
 People  are  better  found  out  in  their  unguarded  hours, 
 than  by  the  principal  adtions  of  their  lives :  the  firft  is 
 nature,  the  fecond  art. 
 
 If  you  chance  to  have  a  quarrel  with  any  one,  by  no 
 means  write  letters,  or  fend  meffages  ;  bring  the  mat- 
 ter to  a  hearing,  as  quickly  as  poliible,  before  your  fpi- 
 rits  have  time  to  rankle.  Endeavour  rather  to  recon- 
 cile than  conquer  your  enemy.  By  fo  doing,  you  take 
 from  hifli  the  inclination  to  hurt  you,  which  is  the  belt 
 
 fecurity^' 
 
rCo  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book!. 
 
 ieciirity.  When  you  have  reconciled  him,  take  care,  if 
 you  find  he  has  afted  a  traiterous  part,  never  to  truft, 
 or  be  intimately  concerned  with  him  any  more.  You 
 may  love  him  as  a  fellow-creatui'e  ;  but  not  confide  in 
 iiim  2S  a  good  man. 
 
 To  gain  applaufe,  you  muft  do  as  the  archer,  who 
 obtains  the  prize  by  hitting  the  mark. 
 
 Afking  a  favour  by  letter,  or  giving  a  perfon  time 
 to  think  of  it,  is  only  giving  him  an  opportunity  of  get- 
 ting off  handfomely. 
 
 It  is  not  hard  to  find  cut  a  man's  true  merit,  as  to 
 abilities.  He  who  behaves  well,  is  certainly  no  weak 
 man.  But  nothing  is  more  difficult,  than  to  find  out  a 
 man^s  charadler  as  to  integrity. 
 
 He,  who  never  mifbehaved  either  in  joy,  in  grief,  or 
 furprife,  muft  have  his  vvifdom  at  command,  in  a  man- 
 ner almofi  fuperior  to  humanity,  and  may  be  pronounced 
 ,a  true  hero. 
 
 Hafte  is  but  a  poor  apology  :  take  time,  and  do  your 
 bufinefs  well. 
 
 If  you  v»7ould  not  be  foreftalled  by  another,  or  laughed 
 at  in  cafe  of  a  difappointment,  do  not  tell  your  defigns. 
 
 If  you  are  to  be  called  a  fcrab,  let  it  be  for  fparing, 
 where  frugality  is  proper.  Who  would  fpare  in  the 
 education  of  a  fon  ;  in  carrying  on  a  confiderable  law- 
 luit ;  or  in  defraying  the  expence  of  a  foiemnity  ? 
 
 I  would  not  anfvver  for  the  condud:  of  the  abieft  man 
 in  the  world,  if  I  knew  that  he  was  fo  conceited  of  his 
 own  abilities,  as  to  be  above  advice. 
 
 There  is  more  good  to  be  done  in  life  by  obilinate 
 diligence,  and  perfeverance,  than  moft  people  feem 
 aware  of.  The  ant  and  bee  are  but  little  and  weak 
 animals ;  and  yet,  by  conflant  application,  they  do 
 wonders. 
 
 Do  not  fcold  or  fwear  at  your  fervants :  they  will 
 defpife  you  for  a  palfionate,  clamorous  fool.  Do  not 
 make  them  too  familiar  with  you  :  they  will  make  a 
 wrong  ufe  of  it,  and  grow  fancy.  Do  not  let  them 
 know  all  the  value  you  have  for  them  :  they  will  prc- 
 fum.e  upon  your  goodnefs,  and  conclude  that  you  can- 
 not do  without  them*    Po  not  give  them  too  great 
 
 wages : 
 
€>;  Prudence.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  107 
 
 wages :  it  will  put  them  above  their  bufinefs.  Do  not 
 allow  them  too  much  liberty  :  they  will  want  dill  more 
 and  more.  Do  not  intreat  them  to  live  with  you  :  if 
 you  do,  they  v/ill  conclude,  they  may  live  as  they  pleafe. 
 
 Irrefolution  is  as  fooUQi  as  railinefs.  If  the  hufband- 
 man  fhould  never  fow,  or  the  fliip-mafter  never  put  to 
 fea,  where  would  be  the  harveft,  or  the  gains  ? 
 
 Do  not  think  to  prevail  with  a  man  in  a  fury,  to  calm 
 his  pafnon  in  a  moment ;  if  you  can  perfuade  him  to. 
 put  off  his  revenge  for  fome  time,  it  will  be  the  molt 
 you  can  hope..  Advice  may  fometimes  do  good,  when 
 you  do  not  expect  it.  People  do  not  care  to  feem  per- 
 fuaded  to  alter  any  part  of  their  conduct :  for  that  is  an 
 acknowledgment,  that  they  were  in  the  wrong.  But 
 they  may,  perhaps,  reflect  afterwards  upon  what  you 
 faid  ;  and,  if  they  do  not  v/holly  reform  the  fault  you 
 reproved,  they  may  rectify  it  in  fome  meafure. 
 
 To  be  regular  is  prudence ;  to  go  like  a  clock,  is 
 mere  formality. 
 
 Do  not  wifli  for  an  increafe  of  wealth  ;  it  does  but 
 enlarge  the  defires :  whereas  happinefs  coniifi.3  in  the 
 gratihcation  of  the  wants  of  nature. 
 
 Where  lies  the  wifdom  of  that  revenge,  which  recoils 
 upon  one's  felf?  Inftead  of  getting  the  better  of  your 
 enemy,  by  offending  your  Maker  in  revenging  an  injury, 
 you  give  your  enemy  the  advantage  of  feeing  you  pu- 
 nifned.  If  you  would  have  the  whole  advantage  for- 
 give ;  and  then,  if  he  does  not  repent,  the  whole  pu- 
 nifhraent  will  fall  upon  him, 
 
 Profufe  giving  or  treating  is  laughed  at  by  the  wife, 
 according  to  the  old  faying,  **  Fools  make  feails,"  &c. 
 
 He  has  a  good  income,  who  has  but  fev^  occafions  of 
 fpending  :  not  he  who  has  great  rents,  and  great  vents. 
 
 Providence  can  raife  the  mcaneit,  or  humble  themigh- 
 tieft  :  it  is  therefore  abfurd  for  the  one  to  defpair,  or 
 the  other  to  prefume. 
 
 In  difficult  bufinelles,  it  may  anfwer  good  purpofes, 
 to  let  the  propofal  be  made  by  a  perfon  of  inferior  con- 
 fequence,  and  let  another,  whofe  word  v/ill  have  more 
 weight,  come,  as  if  by  chance,  and  ieccnd  the  motion. 
 
 Would 
 
toS  THE  DIGNITY  07  (Book  I. 
 
 Would  you  punilli  the  fpiteful  ?  Shew  him,  that  you 
 are  above  his  malice.  The  dart,  he  threw  at  you,  will 
 then  rebound,  and  pierce  him  to  the  heart. 
 
 To  get  an  eftate  fairly,  requires  good  abilities.  To 
 Ivcep  and  improve  one,  is  not  to  be  done  without  dili- 
 gence and  frugality.  But  to  lofe  one  with  a  grace, 
 when  it  fo  pleafes  the  .divine  Providence,  is  a  ftill  no- 
 bler art. 
 
 He  who  promifes  raGily,  will  break  his  promife  with 
 the  fame  eafe  as  he  made  it. 
 
 Keep  a  watch  over  yourfelf,  when  you  are  in  ex- 
 treme good  humour  :  artful  people  will  take  that  oppor- 
 tunity to  draw  you  into  promifes,  which  may  embarrafs 
 you  either  to  break  or  keep. 
 
 Your  adions  muft  not  only  be  right,  but  expedient : 
 they  muft  not  only  be  agreeable  to  virtue  but  to  pru- 
 dence. 
 
 You  may  fafely  be  umpire  among  ftrangers,  but  not 
 among  friends :  in  deciding  between  the  former,  you 
 may  gain  ;  among  the  latter,  you  muft  lofe. 
 
 Great  fame  is  like  a  great  eftate,  hard  to  get,  hard  to 
 keep. 
 
 Party  is  the  madnefs  of  many,  for  the  gain  of  a  few  ; 
 fays  Swift. 
 
 If  it  gives  you  pain,  or  fliame,  to  think  of  changing 
 your  fcheme  at  the  remonftrance  of  your  faithful  friend 
 (which  fhews  extreme  weaknefs  in  you),  you  may  get 
 over  that  difficulty,  by  feeming  to  have  thought  of  fome 
 additional  coniideration,  which  has  moyed  you  to  fol- 
 low his  advice. 
 
 In  a  free  country,  there  is  little  to  be  done  by  force  : 
 gentle  means  may  gain  you  thofe  ends,  which  violence 
 would  for  ever  put  out  of  your  power. 
 
 He  who  is  unhappy,  and  can  find  no  ccmfort  at  borne, 
 is  unhappy  indeed. 
 
 Never  truft  a  man  for  the  vehemence  of  his  aflevcr 
 rations,  whofe  bare  word  you  would  not  truft  :  a  knave 
 will  make  no  more  of  fwearing  to  a  falfehood,  than  of 
 affirming  it. 
 
 Theory  will  fignify  little,  without  addrefs  to  put  your 
 knowledge  in  pradice. 
 
 In 
 
OfFrudence.)  HUMAK  NATURE.  Ilf/ 
 
 In  afllidion,*  conftrain  yourfelf  to  bear  patiently  for 
 a  day,  or  fo,  only  for  the  fake  of  trying,  whether  pati- 
 ence does  not  lighten  the  burden  :  if  the  experiment 
 anfwers,  as  you  will  undoubtedly  find,  you  have  only 
 to  continue  it. 
 
 If  you  borrow,  be  fure  of  making  pundual  payment; 
 elfe  you  will  have  no  more  truft. 
 
 Is  it  not  better  that  your  friend  tell  you  your  faults 
 privately,  than  that  your  enemy  talk  of  them  publicly  ? 
 
 A  princely  mind  will  ruin  a  private  fortune.  Keep 
 the  rank  in  v/hich  providence  hath  placed  you  :  and  do 
 not  make  yourfelf  unhappy,  becaufe  you  cannot  afford 
 whatever  a  wild  fancy  might  fuggeft.  The  revenues 
 of  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  would  not  be  equal 
 to  the  expence  of  one  extravagant  perfon. 
 
 Where  there  is  a  profpedt  of  doing  good,  neither  be 
 fo  forward  in  thrufting  yourfelf  into  the  direction  of 
 the  bufinefs,  as  to  keep  out  ethers,  who  might  manage 
 it  better  ;  nor  fo  backward,  through  falfe  modefty,  as 
 to  let  the  thing  go  undone,  for  want  of  fomebody  to  dc^ 
 it.  If  no  one  elfe,  who  could  execute  a  good  work 
 better,  will  engage  in  it,  do  you  undertake  and  execute 
 it  as  well  as  you  can. 
 
 The  man  of  books  is  generally  awkward  in  bufinefs  : 
 the  man  of  bulinefs  is  often  fuperficial  in  knowledge. 
 
 In  engaging  yourfelf  for  any  perfon  or  thing,  you  will 
 be  fuL-e  to  entangle  yourfelf,  if  things  Ihould  not  turn 
 out  to  your  expedtation.  And  if  you  get  off  for  a  lit- 
 tle ridicule,  think  it  a  good  bargain. 
 
 You  may  perhaps  come  to  be  great,  or,  rich;  but 
 remember  the  taxes  and  dedudions  you  will  be  liable 
 to,  of  hurry,  noife,  impertinence,  flattery,  envy,  anxiety, 
 difappointiTient;  not  to  mention  remorle.  All  thefe, 
 and  a  hundred  other  articles  fet  on  one  fide  of  the  ac- 
 count, and  your  wealth  and  grandeur  on  the  other,  are 
 you  likely  to  be  greatly  a  gainer  in  happinefs,  by  quit- 
 ting a  private  ftation  for  pomp  and  Ihew?  A(k  thofe 
 who  have  experience. 
 
 Neceffity  and  ability  live  next  door  to  one  another. 
 
 If  you  never  aik  advice,  you  will  hardly  go  always 
 right.     If  you  a(k  of  too  many,  you  will  not  know  which 
 
 way 
 
no  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I, 
 
 way  to  go.  If  you  obftinately  oppofe  advice,  you  will 
 certainly  go  wrong.  A  wicked  counfeilor  will  miflead 
 you  wilfully:  a  foolilh  one  thoughtlefsly. 
 
 Never  take  credir,  where  you  can  pay  ready  money; 
 efpecially  of  low  dealers:  they  will  make  you  pay  in- 
 tereil  with  a  vengeance. 
 
 Never  refufe  a  good  offer,  for  the  fake  of  a  better 
 market:  the  firil  is  certainty;  the  latter  only  hope. 
 
 To  make  a  thing  come  of  another,  which  you  mull 
 at  laft  have  done  yourfelf,  is  an  innocent,  and  often 
 ufeful  art  in  life* 
 
 Take  care  of  irrevocable  deeds* 
 
 He  who  has  done  all  he  could,  has  difcharged  his 
 confcience. 
 
 Debt  is  one  of  the  mod  fubftantial  and  real  evils  of 
 life:  efpecially  when  a  man  comes  to  be  fo  plunged,  as 
 to  have  no  profped:  of  ever  getting  clear.  An  honeft 
 mind  in  fuch  circumflances,,  raufl  be  in  a  ftate  of  de- 
 fpair,  becaufe  there  is  no  hope  of  ever  being  in  a  con- 
 dition to  do  juftice  to  mankind. 
 
 Never  let  yourfelf  be  meanly  betrayed  into  an  admi- 
 ration of  a  perfon  of  high  rank,  or  fortune,  whom  you 
 would  defpife,  if  he  were  your  equal  in  ftation:  none 
 but  fools  and  children  are  ftruck  with  tinfel. 
 
 It  is  an  employment  more  ufeful  in  fociety,  to  be  a 
 maker-up  of  differences,  than  a  profeflbr  of  aftronomy. 
 Bat  it  requires  prudence  to  know  how  to  come  between 
 two  people  who  are  bickering  at  one  another ;  and  not 
 have  a  blow  from  one  or  other. 
 
 If  you  mud  give  a  perfon,  who  comes  to  afk  a  fa- 
 vour, the  mortification  of  a  denial,  do  not  add  to  it  that 
 of  an  affront,  unlefs  he  has  aflronted  you  by  his  petition. 
 
 If  you  make  ufe  of  the  faults  of  others,  as  warnings 
 to  avoid  falling  into  the  fame  errors,  you  may  profit  by 
 folly,  as  well  as  by  wifdom.  If  you  think  of  nothing 
 but  laughing  at  them,  I  know  no  great  advantage  you 
 can  get  by  that. 
 
 If  you  can,  by  any  fudden  contrivance,  (for  framing 
 of  which  you  do  not  find  yourfelf  reduced  to  the  ne- 
 cefTity  of  a  lye,  or  any  other  bafer  art,)  draw  off  part 
 of  the  attention  of  your  enemy,  or  difconcert  his  mea- 
 
 5  fures 
 
OjPnrdrnce.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  3IE- 
 
 fares,  as  it  is  common  in  war  to  attack  at  feveral  places 
 at  once;  I  riold  it  an  honeft  and  laudable  artifice. 
 
 Do  you  not  remember,  when  you  was  about  twenty 
 or  twenty-five  years  of  age,  that  you  was  very  full  of 
 your  own  talents  and  accomplifhraents?  Do  you  not 
 find,  that  you  have  been  growing  every  year  lince, 
 more  and  more  ignorant  and  weak  in  your  own  opiruon  ? 
 Let  this  teach  you  to  put  a  proper  eilimate  upon  yowr 
 attainments,  and  to  know  that  the  time  will  come, 
 when  (if  you  be  found  worthy  of  true  knov^^ledge)  you 
 will  relied:  on  all  your  acquiiitions  in  this  ftate,  as  com- 
 paratively mean  and  trivial 
 
 Look  back  upon  the  dilBculties  and  troubles  you  ha\''e 
 been  embarraflbd  with  in  life;  and  obferve,  v/hether 
 mod  of  them  have  not  been  occaiioned  by  raifcondudt, 
 pride,  paffion,  folly,  and  vice:  and  if  you  find  you  can- 
 not bring  yourfelf  to  give  up  what  has  coft  you  infinite 
 trouble  and  vexation,  conclude  yourfelf  a  confirmed 
 incurable  madman. 
 
 If  ever  you  engage  in  any  defign  for  the  public  good, 
 depend  upon  meeting  with  aimoft  as  many  hindrances^ 
 as  you  have  difierent  peribns  to  be  concerned  vv'ith. 
 You  v^ill  have  a  difficulty  ftarted  by  almofl;  .every  one, 
 to  whom  you  propofe  your  fcheme.  One  will  tell  you, 
 it  will  do  no  good;  another,  that  it  will  do  harm; 
 and  almofi  all  will  be  cold  to  what  is  not  of  their  own 
 propofing.  Some  will  feem  to  come  into  your  fcheme 
 at  once,  and  will  by  degrees  draw  you  out  of  the  v.^ay 
 you  was  in.  By  and  by,  fome  bugbear  flarts  up  before 
 them ;  and  then  they  are  as  hafty  to  defert  you,  as  they 
 were  fanguine  to  join  you.  Many  love  to  make  a  fhew 
 of  public  fpirit,  while  there  is  no  trouble  to  be  taken, 
 or  expence  to  be  laid  out ;  but  when  you  expecl  them 
 to  bedir  themfelves  in  earned,  you  find  yourfelf  difap- 
 poinied.  Many,  for  the  mere  vanity  of  beinp;  in  a 
 Icheme,  will  be  very  bufy  ;  but  if  they  find,  they  can- 
 not be  of  the  importance  they  defire,  or  that  they  can- 
 not rule  all,  the  public  good  may  iliift  for  itfelf,  foe 
 what  they  care  ;  they  will  have  no  concern,  where 
 they  mud  go  along  with  others.  The  timoroufnefs  of 
 fome  J  the  difficulty  of  others,  with  refped  to  their  cha- 
 
 raders^ 
 
U2  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  L 
 
 radters,  which  they  do  not  care  to  hazard  for  the  pub- 
 lic advantage ;  and  the  raflmefs  of  others,  who  will  be 
 meddling  ;  the  coldnefs,  the  forwardnefs,  the  pride,  the 
 diffidence,  of  thofe  who  iliould  go  along  with  you,  will 
 be  fo  many  obftacles  in  your  way,  which  will  heartily 
 plague  you,  if  not  wholly  difconcert  your  fcheme.  But 
 we  mult  not,  on  account  of  the  difficulties,  refolve  againll 
 attempting  any  thing  for  the  general  advantage.  On  the 
 contrary,  the  more  the  difficulty,  the  greater  the  praife. 
 The  proper  method  of  proceeding  on  fuch  occalions,  I 
 take  to  be  as  follows : 
 
 Coniider  carefully  your  fcheme,  with  its  probable 
 confequences,  comparing  it  with  whatever  you  have 
 known  done,  that  may  concide  with,  or  refemble  it, 
 either  at  home  or  in  foreign  countries.  Then  talk  it 
 over  with  one  or  more  friends,  w^hom  you  know  to  be 
 men  of  underftanding  and  fincerity.  Keep  it  as  private 
 as  poffible,  till  it  be  almoft  ripe  for  execution.  Carry 
 it  as  far  as  you  can,  before  you  deiire  the  concm'rence 
 of  any  number  of  perfons,  efpecially  of  high  rank. 
 They  are  generally,  and  not  altogether  without  reafon, 
 fufpicious  of  whatever  is  propoied  to  them  as  a  project. 
 And  one  will  not  be  firft,  and  another  will  not  be  firft, 
 in  a  new  fcheme  ;  though  they  will  perhaps  join  with 
 others,  efpecially  of  their  own  rank.  By  this  condudl, 
 you  may  by  degrees  draw  into  a  concurrence  with  yoii 
 lome  perfons,  whofe  names  may  be  of  fervice,  and  may 
 prevent  the  objeclions  which  may  be  made  by  others. 
 For  when  people  fee  a  defign  going  into  immediate 
 execution,  they  will  coniider  it  in  a  very  diffisrent  man- 
 ner from  what  is  only  propofed  as  a  poffible  fcheme, 
 but  is  yet  wholly  immature. 
 
 I  cannot  help  wondering  at  the  turn  of  many  peo- 
 ple's minds,  who  are  fond  of  what  is  far  fetched,  merely 
 for  its  being  foreign.  Whereas  one  would  think  felf- 
 love,  which  produces  fo  many  fooliffi  effedls,  might  at 
 leaft  produce  one  reafonable  one,  I  m.ean,  to  make  peo- 
 ple fond  of  home,  and  whatever  is  the  product  of  their 
 own  country,  and  their  own  grounds.  Why  ffiould  we 
 love  our  own  children,  our  own  works,  and  oui!'  own 
 weakneiTes  merely  becaufe   they  are  our  own,  at  ths 
 
 ilime 
 
K^j  Prudence.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  113 
 
 fame  time  that  we  iove  foreign  fafliions,  wines,  mufici- 
 ans,  &-C.  merely  becaufe  they  are  foreign  ?  For  my  part, 
 I  think  it  is  much  more  for  an  Engll/Jj  gentlemaii  to 
 boaft,  tliat  the  proviiions  of  his  table  are  the  prociud  of 
 his  own  eftate,  and  the  drefs  he  wears,  the  maniifadture 
 of  his  own  country,  than  that  the  four  quarters  of  the 
 globe  have  been  ranfacked  to  feed  and  clothe  him. 
 
 If,  while  you  are  young,  and  bad  habits  are  yet  but 
 weak  in  yon,  you  have  not  ftrength  of  mind  to  conquer 
 them,  how  will  you  be  able  to  do  it,  when  they  have 
 acquired  ftrength  by  length  of  time  and  practice?  If 
 you  do  not  find  youvfelf  now  difpofcd  to  look  into  the 
 flate  of  your  mind,  ctiid  to  repent  and  reform,  while 
 there  is  lefs  to  fet  right,  how  will  you  bring  yourfeif 
 hereafter  to  examine  your  own  heart,  when  all  is  ccn- 
 fufion  within,  and  nothing  fit  to  be  looked  into  ?  Or 
 how  will  you  bring  yourfeif  to  repent  and  reform, 
 v,'hen  there  will  be  fo  much  to  fet  right,-  that  you  will 
 not  know  where  to  begin  ? 
 
 It  is  eafy  to  keep  from  gaming,  drunkennefs,  or  any 
 other  failiionable  vice.  You  have  only  to  lay  down  a 
 firm  refolution,  and  fix  in  your  m,ind  a  ft':ady  averfion 
 againft  them.  When  once  your  humour  is  knovv^n,  no- 
 body will  trouble  you.  They  will  perhaps  lay  of  you^ 
 He  is  a  queer  fellow,  and  will  not  do  as  other  people 
 do.  At  laft,  thole  who  cannot  live  without  the  cavd- 
 table  and  the  bottle,  will  drop  you  ■,  and  then  you  have 
 only  to  feek  out  company  where  improvement  is  m^ore 
 purfued  than  amufement.  I  am  miitaken  if  you  will 
 be  a  great  lofer  by  the  exchange. 
 
 Make  a  fure  bargain  beforehand  v.'ith  workmen  ;  and 
 by  no  means  be  put  oil  with  their  telling  you,  they  wiil 
 refer  the  price  to  your  difcretion. 
 
 A  perfon,  who  fills  a  place  of  eminence,  vv-ill  do  wc^il 
 to  obferve  the  following  rules,  i.  Above  all  things  to 
 acl  a  ftridly  juft  and  upright  part :  for  that  Vv'ill  ne  lure 
 to  end  well.  2.  To  make  his  advantage  of  the  errors 
 of  his  predecefibrs.  3.  To  avoid  all  extremes  in  gene- 
 ral :  violent  meafures  are  wholly  inconfificnt  with  pru- 
 dence. 4.  To  fufpedt  all ;  but  take  care  not  to  feeni 
 fufpicioiis  of  any.     5.  To  be  content  wnth  a  moderate 
 
 I  I  incor^ie. 
 
JI4  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (B^ok  ?. 
 
 '"•incDme,  and  moderate  oftentation  :  great  riches  and  gran- 
 deur infallibly  draw  envy  and  hatred.  6.  To  be  eafy  of 
 accefs  :  {limiefs  is  univerfally  hated  ;  and  affability  tends 
 to  reconcile  people  to  the  private  charader  of  a  perfon 
 whofe  public  condud;  may  be  obnoxious,  7;  To  hear  all 
 opinions,  and  follow  the  beil.  8.  Toliften  attentively  to 
 the  remarks  made  by  enemies.  9.  To  fnew  to  inferiors 
 fomewhat  perfonvdly  great  in  his  conduci  and  character  : 
 it  expofes  a  man  of  rank  to  extreme  contempt,  to  obferve 
 that  what  makes  the  difference  between  him  and  his  in- 
 feriors; is  chiefly  drefs,  riches,  or  Oation.  10.  To  retire 
 in  time,  if  poliible,  with  a  reputation  unfuliied. 
 
 Health  ;  a  good  confcience  ;  one  hundred  a  year  for 
 a  fingle  perfon,  or  two  for  a  fami-ly  ;  the  real  neceffa- 
 ries  of  life  are  foon  reckoned  up.  If  there  happen  to 
 he  in  the  neighbourhood  a  few  converfable  people,  with 
 whom  you  may  walk,  or  ride  out,  hear  a  fong,  crack  a 
 harmiei's  joke,  or  have  a  game  at  bowls,  you  are  pof- 
 leifed  of  the  whole  luxury  of  life.  Where  is  the  man 
 whofe  merit  may  challenge  fuch  happinefs  ?  Yet  how 
 many  are  there  diffatislied  in  affluence  beyond  this  ? 
 
 If  you  find  yourfelf  in  a  thriving  way  keep  in  it. 
 
 Throw  fordid  felf  out  of  your  mind,  if  you  think  o-f 
 being  truly  great  in  fpirit. 
 
 A  readinefs  at  throwing  any  fudden  thought  which 
 may  cccur,  either  in  reading,  or  converfation,  into  eafy 
 language,  may  be  of  great  ufe  toward  improvement  in 
 prudence  for  adion,  and  furniiure  for  converfation.  One 
 who  accudoms  himfelf  much  to  making  remarks  of  all 
 kinds  in  writing,  muft  in  time  have  by  him  a  collection 
 containing  fome what  upon  every  thing. 
 
 I  do  not  know  a  much  greater  unhappinefs  in  life, 
 than  that  of  being  connefted,  by  blood  or  friend fhip, 
 with  unfortunate  neceffitous  people.  A  generous  mind 
 cannot  bear  to  lee  them  fink,  without  endeavouring  to 
 help  them  out  of  their  difficulties.  The  confequence  of 
 which  is,  being  drawn"  into  difficulties  by  their  means.  If 
 you  lend,  and  aflv  for  your  own,  a  quarrel  follows. 
 And  if  you  give  freely,  they  will  depend  on  your  fup- 
 porting  them  in  idlenefs.  And  after  all,  what  is  moll 
 vexatious  is,  that  you  can  feidom  do  anv  eood  to  im- 
 
 prudent 
 
{^.Priuhn:e.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  115 
 
 prudent  and  unt.hriving  people.     Such   connexions   u 
 j^prudent  man  will  avoid,  or  give  up  as  foon  as  poiiible. 
 2L,  Do  not  think  of  any  great  defigii  after  forty  years 
 ne»f  age.  srto  t>JB^,iq  (!»(jj  o7  3lc|03q  dlionop^'j  01 
 
 lU  ilievery,  deliberatitig  u^on  bufinef*.  isijjglj^jthe  bu- 
 <>fii|fer^.it'-"=)in:  OM?  bn; 
 
 Your  jneighbour  has  more  income  than  enougli  ;  yoa 
 havejull  enough.  Is  your  neighbour  the  better  for 
 Ijaving  what  he  has  no  ufe  for  ?  Are  you  the  vvorfe  for 
 being  free  from  the  trouble  of  what  would  be  ufeiefs 
 to  you  ?   .  ' . 
 
 Better  confider  for  an  hour,  than  repent  for  a  year. 
 Let  fcandal  alone,  and  it  will  die  away  of  itfelf :  op- 
 pofe  ir,  and  it  will  fpread  the  fafter. 
 
 Let  fafety  and  innocence  be  two  indifpenfable  ingre- 
 dients in  all  your  amufements  :  is  there'  any  pleafare  in 
 what  leads  to  lofs  of  health,  fortune,  or  foul? 
 
 Take  care  of  falling  out  of  conceit  with  your  wife, 
 your  ftation,  habitation,  bufinefs,  or  any  thing  elfe, 
 which  yoa  cannot  change.  Let  no  comparifons  once 
 enter  into  your  mind  :  the  confequeiice  will  be  reilleis- 
 nef$,*envy,  and  unhappinefs. 
 
 Be  not  defirous  of  fcenes  of  grandeur,  of  heightened 
 pleafures  and  diveriions  :  it  is  the  fure  way  to  take  your 
 ,:,heart  off  from  your  private  (lation  and  >'='ay  of  life,  and 
 to  make  you  uneafy  and  unhappy.  It  is  a  thoufand  to 
 one  but,  if  you  were  to  get  into  a  higher  ftation,  you 
 ..jw.Quld  find  it  awkward  and  unfuitable  to  you,  and  that 
 you  Vv'ouid  only  want  to  return  again  to  your  foimer 
 happy  independence. 
 
 Tiiere  is  no  time  fpent  more  (tupidly,  than  that  which 
 
 .  fome  ki'vurious  people  pais  in  a  morning  between  fleep- 
 
 .ting  and  waking,  after  nature  has  been  firily  gratified. 
 
 He  who  is  awake,  may  be  doing  foraewhat :  he  v^ho  is 
 
 afleep,  is  receiving  the  refreflunent  necellhry  to  lit  liini 
 
 for  action  :   but  the  hours  fpent  in  dozing  and  fiumber- 
 
 .ing,  can  hardly  be  called  exiftence. 
 
 -  ':     Gonlider,  the  mod  elegant  beauty  is  only  a  fair  fein 
 
 dravvn  over  a  heap  of  the  fame  fleih,   blood,  bones,  and 
 
 impurities,  which  compofe  the  body  of  the  ugiieftdung-- 
 
 hiH-begy;ar. 
 
 oo' 
 
 I  2  It 
 
ii6  THE  DrCNlTY  or  (Book  L 
 
 If  yen  have  made  an  injudicious  friendfliip,  let  it  link 
 gently  and  gradually  ;  if  yen  blow  it  up  at  once,  raif- 
 chief  may  be  the  confeqnence  :  never  difoblige,  if  you 
 can  pofiibly  avoid  it.  :ModB   -far 
 
 if  you  want  to  try  experiments,  take  care  at  lead, 
 that  thsy  be  not  dangerous  ones. 
 
 Better  not  make  a  prefent  at  all,  than  do  it  in  a  piti- 
 ful manner  :  every  thing  of  elegance,  is  better  let  alone 
 th-ari  clmr.fily  performed.  ' 
 
 If  you  want  to  keep  the  good  opinion  of  a  great  per- 
 fon,  whom  you  find  to  be  a  man  of  underilanding  ;  do 
 not  thruft  yourfelf  upon  him,  but  let  him  fend  for  you, 
 when  he  wants  you.  Do  not  pump  for  his  fecrets,  but 
 ftay  till  he  tells  you  them  ;  nor  offsr  him  your  advice 
 nnaiked;  nor  repeat  any  thing  of  what  palTes  between 
 you,  relating  to  family,  or  llate-afFairs  ;  nor  boaft  of 
 your  intimacy  with  him  ;  nor  fhev/  yourfelf  ready  to 
 fneak  and  cringe,  or  to  make  the  enemy  of  mankind  a 
 prefent  of  your  foul  to  oblige  your  patron.  If  your 
 fcheme  be,  to  make  your  fortune  at  any  rate,  put  on 
 your  boots,  and  plunge  through  thick  and  thin. 
 
 It  will  vex  you  to  lofe  a  friend  for  a  fmart  ftroke  of 
 raillery  ;  or  the  opinion  of  the  wife  and  good,  for  a  piece 
 of  foolidi  behaviour  at  a  merry-making. 
 
 The  more  you  enlarge  your  concerns  in  life,  the  more 
 chances  you  will  have  of  embarraffments. 
 
 Manldnd  generally  aft  not  according  to  right;  but 
 more  according  to  prefent  intereft  ;  and  mod  according 
 to  prefent  paffion  :  by  this  key  you  may  generally  get 
 into  their  defigns,  and  foretel  Vv  hat  courfe  they  will  take. 
 
 In  efli mating  the  worth  of  men,  keep  a  guard  upon 
 your  judgment,  that  it  be  not  biafTed  by  wealth  or  (JDlen- 
 dor.  Ar  the  fame  time,  there  is  no  neceflity  for  treat- 
 ing with  a  cynical  inlolence,  every  perfon  whom  Pro- 
 vidence hath  placed  in  an  eminent  ftation,  merely  be- 
 caufe  your  experience  teaches  you,  that  very  few  of  the 
 great  are  deferving  of  the  efteem  of  the  wife  and  good. 
 Confiderthe  temptations  which  befiege  people  ofdillinc- 
 tion,  and  render  it  alraoft  impoilible  for  them  to  come  at 
 truth;  and  make  all  reafonable  allowances.  If  you  fee 
 any  thing  like  real  gocdnefs  of  heart  in  a  perfon  of  high 
 
 rank. 
 
Of  Prudence.)  HUMAN  NATtJRE.  117 
 
 rank,  admire  it  as  an  uncommon  inllance  of  excellence, 
 which,  in  a  more  private  flation,  would  have  rifen  to  an 
 extraordinary  pitch. 
 
 Never  write  letters  about  any  affair  that  has  occa- 
 iioned,  or  may  occafion,  a  difference :  a  diil'erence  looks 
 bigger  in  a  letter  than  in  converiaticn. 
 
 Do  not  let  one  failure  in  a  worthy  and  pradicable 
 fcheme  baffle  you  :    the  more  diiliculty  the  more  glory. 
 
 If  you  do  not  fet  your  whole  thoughts  upon  a  bu- 
 linefs,  while  you  are  about  it,  it  is  ten  to  one  but  you 
 raifmanage  it  :  if  you  fet  your  aiFcclions  immoveably 
 upon  worldly  things,  yoii  will  become  a  fordid  earth- 
 worm. 
 
 Grief  fmothered  preys  upon  the  vitals:  give  it  vent 
 into  the  bofom  of  a  friend  :  but  take  care  that  your 
 friend  be  a  perfon  of  approved  tenderners;  ^X^a  he  vviii 
 not  adminifter  the  balm  of  fyrnparhy  :  of  tried  pru- 
 de nee ;  elfe  you  will  not  profit  by  his  advice  or  confo- 
 lation  :  and  of  experienced  fecrefy;  elfe  you  may  chance 
 *to  find  yourfelf  betrayed  and  undone. 
 
 In  public  places  be  cautious  of  your  behaviour:  you 
 ■know  not  who  may  have  an  eye  upon  you,  and  afrcr- 
 wards  expofe  your  levity  or  affeclation  where  you  would 
 ieaft  vvifn  it.  Nothing  can  be  imagined  more  naufeous 
 than  the  public  behaviour  of  many  people,  who  make 
 niighty  preteniions  to  the  elegances  of  life.  To  go  to 
 church,  to  a  tragedy,  or  an  oratorio,  only  to  diiiurb 
 ail  v.'ho  are  within  reach  of  your  impertinence,  fnevvs 
 a  want,  not  only  of  common  modeRy  and  civility,  but 
 of  common  fenfe.  If  you  do  ncsl  conie  to  improve,  or 
 •  to  enjoy  the  entertainment,  you  can  have  no  rational, 
 'fckeme  in  view.  If  you  v*'ant  to  play  off  your  fooleries^ 
 you  have  only  to  go  to  a  rout,  where  you  Hre  fure  no- 
 thing of  fenfe  or  reafonable  entertainment  will  have  any 
 place,  and  where  confequently  you  can  fpcil  nothing. 
 As  to  indecencies  in:  places  of  public  worfnip,  one  wpuld 
 think  the  fear  of  being  (Iruck  by  the  Power  to  whom 
 fuch  places  are  dedicated,  would  a  little  rciliain  the 
 public  impiety  of  fome  people. 
 
 Never  difoblige  fervants,  if  you  can,  avoid  it.  Lov/ 
 people  are  often  mifchievous  \  and  having  lived   vvith 
 
 1  ^  ^  Jo^V 
 
j.iS  THE  DIGNITY  OF,  &c. 
 
 jo'd,  have  it  in  their  power  to  mifreprefent  and  injure 
 you. 
 
 Th6  more  fervants  you  keep,  the  worfe  yea  will  be 
 ferved. 
 
 Great  people  think  their  inferiors  do  only  their  duty 
 in  ferving  them  ;  And  that  they  do  theirs  in  rewarding 
 their  ifervices  with  a  nod  or  a  fmile.  The  lower  part  of 
 mankind  have  minds  too  fordid  to  be  capable  of  grati- 
 tude. It  is  therefore  chiefly  frorii  the  middle  rank  that 
 you  may  look  for  a  fenfe  and  return  of  kindnefs,  or  any 
 thing  worthy  or  laudable. 
 
 Do  not  let  your  enemy  fee  that  he  has  it  in  his  power 
 to  plague  you. 
 
 Beware  of  one  who  has  been  your  enemy,  and  all  of 
 a  fudden,  no  body  knows  how,  or  why,  grows  mighty 
 loving  and  friendly. 
 
 In  propoling  your  bufinefs,  be  rather  too  full,  than 
 too  brief,  to  prevent  miftakes.  In  affiurs,  of  which  you 
 are  a  judge,  make  the  propofal yourfelf  In  cafes  which 
 you  do  not  underftand,  wait,  if  polTible,  till  anothe)^ 
 makes  it  to  you. 
 
 Be  fearful  of  one  you  have  once  got  the  better  of. 
 You  know  not  how  you  may  have  irritated  him  ;  nor 
 how  deeply  revenge  works  in  his  heart  againft  you.  It 
 is  better  not  to  feem  to  have  got  the  advantage  of  your 
 enemy  when  you  have. 
 
 If  you  afl^  a  favour,  which  you  had  fome  pretenfions 
 to,  and  meet  with  a  refufal,  it  will  be  impolitic  to  flievv 
 that  you  think  yourfelf  ill  ufed.  Y'ou  will  act  a  mofe 
 prudent  part  in  feeming  fatisfied  with  the  reafons  given. 
 So  you  may  take  another  opportunity  of  foliciting; 
 and  may  chance  to  be  fuccefsful :  for  the  perion  you 
 have  obliged  will,  if  he  has  v.ny  grace,  be  afliamcd  and 
 puzzled  to  refufe  you  a  fecond  time, 
 
 Ir  you  are  defamed,  confider,  whether  the  profecu- 
 tion  of  the  perfon  who  has  injured  you  is  not  more  likely 
 to  fpread  the  report,  than  to -clear  your  innocence.  If 
 fOf  your  regard  for  yourfelf  will  teach  you  what  courfe 
 td'takeo      ^  .  >^  .Gsviaxd.. 
 
 THE 
 
1  t^s. 
 
 DIGNITY 
 
 O  F 
 
 HUMAN       N  A  T  U  Pv  E< 
 
 BOOK    IL 
 Of  Knowledge. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 J  AVING  in  the  former  book  laid  before  the  young 
 ^  reader  a  feries  of  dircdions  with  regard  to  his 
 coiiducl  in  oioft  circumdanccs  in  life,  which,  if  he  will 
 follow,  fupplying  their  deftciences  (as  it  is  impoliibie  tq 
 frame  a  fyrtem  of  prudentials  that  ihall  fuit  all  poilible 
 cafes  without  deficiency)  by  applying  tq  the  judicious 
 and  experienced  for  advice  in  all  extraordu-iary  emer- 
 gencies, and  by  forming  his  condudl  by  the  beft  rules 
 and  examples,  he  will  have  great  reafon  to  hope  for 
 fuccefs  and  credit  in  life,  and  to  have  even  his  difap- 
 pointments  and  misfortunes  afcribed,  at  lead  by  the 
 candid  and  benevolent,  to  other  caufes,  r^the^  than  tq 
 error,  or  mifcondudt  on  his  part ;  it  follows  next  to  prp- 
 ceed  to  the  confideration  of  what  makes  another  very'' 
 confiderable  part  of  the  dignity  of  human  life,  to  wit^ 
 The  improvement  of  the  mind  by  ufcful  and  prnamerital 
 knowledge. 
 
 It  niay  be  objedled,  that,  as  all  our  knovvledge- is 
 comparatively  but  ignorance,  it  cannot  be  of  much  im- 
 portance that,  we  take  the  pains  to  inquire  what  is  of  fo 
 little  confequence  when  acquired. 
 
 But  it  is  to  be  obferved,  that  our  knowledge  is  faid 
 to  be  inconfiderable  only  in  comparifon  with  that  of  fu- 
 peraor  beings,  and  that  w^hat  we"caaknow  is  not  to  be 
 
 I  4  named 
 
120  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IL 
 
 natned  in  comparifon  with  what  in  the  prefent  ftate  lies 
 wholly  oqt  of  our  reach.  And  though  this  is  the  cafe 
 not  only  of  our  Ihort-iighted  fpecies,  but  alfo  of  the 
 highsft  archangel  ill  heaven,  whofe  coniprehenfion, being 
 flill  iiniie,  muft  fall  infinitely  (liort  of  the  whole  extent 
 of  hBpwletlge,  which  in  the  Divine  Mind  is  ftrictly  in- 
 finite rj  -fi^t  I  believe  hardly  any  man  can  be  found  fo 
 weak  as  to  defpife  the  knowledge  of  an  angel,  or  fupe- 
 riov.bd^jg,  or  who  v/ould  not  willingly  acquire  it,  if  it 
 Wfre:|s<Qiiible. 
 
 If  there  is  a  certain  meafure  of  knovidedge;,  which  we 
 are  fare  is  attainable,  becaufe  it  has  been  attained  by 
 inany  of  our  own  fpecies,  muft  we  defpife  it  becaufe  we 
 know  there  are  vaft  tracks  of  fciencc  to  which  human 
 fagacity  cannot  reach  ?  Muft  we  fail  out  with  our  eyes 
 becaufe  they  cannot  take  in  the  ken  of  an  angel  ?  Muft 
 we  refolve  not  to  make  ufe  of  them  to  fee  our  way  here 
 on  earth,  becaufe  they  are  not  acute  enough  to  Ihew 
 us  whether  there  are  any  inhabitants  in  the  moon  ? 
 
 Truth  may  be  compared  to  gold  or  diamonds  in  the 
 mine,  the  fuialleft  fragment  of  which  is  valuable.  And 
 if  one  had  the  offer  of  all  the  gold  duft,  or  all  the  fmall 
 diamonds  of  a  mine,  I  believe  he  would  hardly  reject 
 it,  becaufe  he  could  not  have  the  working  of  the  rich 
 vein  }vholly  to  himfelf.  Truth  is  the  proper  object  of 
 the  underftanding,  as  food  is  the  ncurifhment  of  the 
 body.  Lefs  important  truths  are  ftill  worth  fearching 
 for..  Truths  of  great  importance  are  worth  any  labour 
 the  finding  them  may  coft. 
 
 It  is,  tiierefore,  piuiiiiy  one  thing  to  be  conceited  of 
 any  acquiiitions  we  can  make  in  knovv'ledge,  and  ano- 
 ther, to  defpife  thofe  that  are  within  our  power.  There 
 is  no  doubt  but  the  raofc  enlightened  angel  above,  is  lefs 
 conceited  of  the  vaft  treafures  of  knowledge  he  poiTeffess, 
 ;:han  a  ftudent  in  his;  firft  year  at  the  univeriity,  is  of  the 
 crude  and  indigeftcd  fmattering  he  lias  gained.  Nor  is 
 there  any  roon)'  to  doubt,  that  knowledge  is  more 
 efteeraed  by  thole  fagacious  beings  who  beft  know  the 
 value  of  it,,  than  by  our  Ihort-lighted  fpecies,  who  have 
 gone  Inch  incQ^fiderabie  lengths  in  it. 
 
 The 
 
CfKm-ivkJg.'.J  HUMAN  NATURE.  121 
 
 The  prefent  is  by  no  means  an  age  for  indulging  ig- 
 norance. A  perfon,  who  thinks  to  have  any  credit 
 among  mankind,  or  to  make  any  figure  inconverfation, 
 mull  abfolutely  reTolve  to  take  forae  pains  to  improve 
 himielf.  V/e  find  more  true  knowledge  at  prefent  in 
 fliops  and  counting-houfes,  than  could  have  been  found 
 an  age  or  two  ago  in  univeriities.  For  the  bulk  of  the 
 knowledgeofthofe  times  confiiUd  in  fubtlc  diilincTtions, 
 laborious  difquifitions,  and  endlcis  difpuies  about  words. 
 The  univerfal  diffuficn  of  knowledge,  vv'hich  we  obferve 
 at  prefent  among  all  ranks  of  people,  took  its  rife  from 
 the  publilhing  thole  admirable  effays,  the  Speculator, 
 Tatier,  and  Guardian,  in  which  learned  fubjedls  were, 
 by  the  elegant  and  ingenious  authors,  cleared  from  the 
 fcholaiiic  rubbiln  of  Latin  andLogic,  rcprcfented  in  a  fa- 
 miliar ftyle,  and  treated  in  a  manner  which  people  of 
 plain  common  fenfe  might  comprehend.  The  pra61ice 
 of  exhibiting  courfes  of  experiments  inLcndon,  and  other 
 great  cities,  which  was  firlt  introduced  by  IVhiJton^  De- 
 fagiiliers,  and  others,  has  likewife  greatly  contributed  to 
 the  fpreading  a  taile  for  knowledge  am^ong  the  trading 
 people,  who  nov/  talk  familiarly  of  thingF,  their  grandfa- 
 thers would  have  thought  it  as  much  as  their  credit  was 
 worth  to  have  been  thought  to  know. 
 
 There  is  indeed  greater  danger,  left  the  flood  of 
 luxury  and  vice,  which  overruns  the  nation,  go  on  in- 
 creafing,  till  it  deftroy  all  that  is  truly  noble  and  valu- 
 able in  the  people.  I  need  not  ij.y  danger.  There  is 
 not  the  leaft  doubt  but  the  debauchery  of  modern  times 
 will  (hortly  make  an  end,  either  of  the  nation  or  of  it- 
 iclf.  The  hillories  of  all  the  llarcs  of  former  times, 
 where  luxury  has  prevailed,  fufhcicntly  (hew  what  we 
 have  to  expecf.  However,  at  prefent,  it  is  abfolutely 
 neceffiiry,  in  order  to  be  on  a  f  Jot  with  others,  that  v^e 
 take  a  little  pains  to  improve  ourfelves,  efpecially  in 
 thofe  pans  of  knowledge  v/hich  enter  commonly  into 
 converfation,  as  morals,  hillory,  and  phyfiology. 
 
 Nothing  makes  a  greater  diiFerence  between  one  be- 
 ing and  another,  than  different  degrees  of  knowledge. 
 The  mind  of  an  ignorant  ptrfon  is  an  abfolute  void. 
 That  of  a  wrong-hsaded  perfon  may  be  compared  to  a 
 
 town 
 
122  THE  DIGNITY  OF  {Book  II. 
 
 town  facked  by  an  lenemy,  where  all  is  overturned,  and 
 nothing  in  its  proper  ftate  or  place.  That  of  a  wife 
 man  h  a  magazine  richly  furniflied.  There  important 
 truths  are  Rored  up  in  luch  regular  arrangement,  that 
 refledion  fees  at  once  through  a  whole  feries  of  fubjects, 
 and  obferves  diflinclly  their  relations  and  connedion?. 
 We  may  coniider  the  mind  of  an  angelic  being  as  a  vaft 
 palace,  in  which  are  various  magazines  ftored  with 
 I'ublime  truths,  the  contemplation  of  whofe  connec- 
 tions, relations,  and  various  beauties,  muft  afford  a  happi- 
 nefs  to  us  inconceivable.  The  Divine  Mind  (if  it  may  be 
 allowed  us  to  attempt  to  form  any  faint  idea  of  the  Origi- 
 nal of  all  per  feci  ion)  may  be  confidered  as  the  in^mienfe 
 and  unbounded  treafure  of  all  truth,  where  the  original 
 ideas  of  all  things  that  ever  have  been,  that  now  are,  and 
 that  ever  Oiall  be,  or  that  are  barely  poffibie,  are  continu- 
 ally prefent;  the  continual  contemplation  ofwhich  infini- 
 tude of  things,  with  the  infinite  beauties  refuhing  from 
 their  various  relations  and  conneclicns,  mult  (if  we  may 
 take  the  liberty  of  the  expreffion)  afford  infinite  enter- 
 tainment and  delight. 
 
 Thus,  in  proportion  to  the  rank  which  any  being  holds 
 in  the  univerfe,  fuch  are  his  views  and  his  comprehen- 
 lion  of  thincrs.  And  I  know  not  whether  the  difference 
 be  greater  betwixt  the  moft  enlightened  of  our  ipecies, 
 and  the  lowed  order  of  angelic  beings;  than  downward 
 from  the  moft  knowing  of  our  fpecies  to  the  moit  igno- 
 rant. To  compare  an  illiterate  clown,  or  even  a  noble- 
 man funk  in  fenfuality  and  ignorance,  (for  it  is  the  fame 
 thing  whether  you  choofe  out  of  the  great  vulgar  or  the 
 fmall)  with  a  Newton  or  a  Clarke ;  to  compare,  1  fay, 
 two  minds,  ofwhich  the  one  is  wholly  blind  and  infen- 
 fible  to  every  thing  above  the  mere  animal  funClions, 
 of  which  a  brute  is  as  capable  as  he  \  and  the  other  u 
 raifed  habitually  above  the  regards  of  fen fe,  and  is  em- 
 ployed in  the  contemplation  of  great  and  fublime  truths, 
 in  fearching  into  the  glorious  works  of  his  Almighty 
 Maker  in  the  natural  world,  and  his  profound  fchcrne 
 of  government  in  the  moral,  and,  by  the  force  of  a  iiu- 
 pendous  fagacity,  is  able  to  penetrate  into,  and  lay  open 
 to  others,  truths  feemingiy  beyond  human  reach  ;  by 
 •knowing  more  of  the  Divine  works,  is  capable  of  form- 
 
 in?: 
 
OfKmivkdrc.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  123 
 
 ing''i:nore  jud:  conceptions  of  the  glorious  Author  of  all, 
 and  confequently  of  paying  him  a  more  rational  obe- 
 dience" and  devotion,  and  of  approaching  nearer  to  him; 
 t6  compare  two  minds  fo  immenfely  different  in  their 
 capacities  and  endowments,  what  iikenefs  appears  to 
 determine  us  to  regard  them  as  of  the  fame  fpecies,  and 
 riot  rather  to  pronounce  the  one  an  angel,  and  the  other 
 a  brute  ? 
 
 We  fee,  therefore,  that  though  there  may  be  no  room 
 for  pride  oj  felf-conceit  on  account  of  our  attainments 
 in  knowledge,  iince  the  higheft  pitch  we  can  pcflibly 
 foar  to,  will  be  but  inconiiderable  in  comparifon  with 
 what  we  never  can  reach  ;  yet  there  is  a  great  deal  of 
 room  for  laudable  ambiiion  ;  Iince  we  fee  it  is  poilible 
 to  excel  the  bulk  of  our  fpecies,  for  any  thing  we  know, 
 a]  mod  as  much  as  an  angel  dees  a  brute. 
 
 All  endowments  and  acquifitions  mnfi:  have  a  begin- 
 ning. Time  was,  when  Sir  Ifacic  Newton  did  not  know 
 the  letters  of  the  alphabet.  And  the  time  may,  and, 
 no  doubt,  will  come,  when  the  meanefl:  of  my  readers. 
 if  he  makes  a  proper  ufe  of  the  natur.il  abilities,  and 
 providential  advantages  given  him,  and  fludies  10  gain 
 His  favour,  in  whofe  difpofai  all  gif's  and  endowments 
 are,  will  exceed  not  only  the  pitch  to  which  the  above- 
 mentioned  prodigy  of  our  fpecies  reached,  but  will  rife 
 to  a  ftation  above  that  which  the  higheft  archangel  in 
 heaven  fills  at  prcfent,  though  the  diftance  mull  flill 
 continue.  And  no  one  knows  "what  immenfe  advantage 
 it  may  be  of,  to  have  endeavoured,  even  in  this  imper- 
 fect: ftate,  to  get  our  minds  opened,  by  the  accefs  of  new 
 ideas  and  views  ;  to  have  habituated  ourfelves  to  ex- 
 amine, to  compare,  to  reflect,  and  diftinguiih.  It  is 
 evident  that  all  thefe  exercifes  of  the  underftanding 
 muft  be  abfoluiely  neceflary  in  any  future  ftate  what- 
 ever, for  enlarging  the  fphere  of  our  knowledge,  and  en- 
 nobling our  minds.  And  what  an  advantage  mull  it  be 
 for  future  ftates  to  have  begun  the  work  here  that  is  to 
 be  carried  on  to  eternity?  To  what  end  does  religion, 
 and  even  reai'on,  direct  us  to  mortify  our  padions  and 
 appetites,  to  habituate  bur  minds  to  the  contemplation 
 of  thofe  high  and  heavenly  things  we  hope  to  cone  one 
 day  to  the  enjoyrneiit  of?  No  doubt,   it  is  neceflary  in 
 
 the 
 
^24  'I'HE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IL 
 
 the!  nature  of  things,  that  our  minds,  in  their  prefent 
 infant  ftate  (as  this  may  very  properly  be  called)  be 
 formed  and  difciplined,  by  cuftom  and  habit,  to  that 
 temper  and  character,  which  is  to  be  hereafter  their 
 glory,  their  perfediion,  and  their  happinefs.  Transfer 
 the  view  from  practice  to  knowledge,  and  you  will  find, 
 that  the  analogy  will  hold  good  there  likewife.  It  is 
 neceliary  that  we  cultivate  to  the  utmoft  all  the  faculties 
 of  our  fouls  in  the  prefent  (late,  in  order  to  their  ar- 
 riving at  higher  degrees  of  perfection  hereafter.  And 
 no  rational  mind  ever  will,  or  can,  rife  to  any  high  degree 
 of  perfection  in  any  llate  whatever,  and  continue  in  ig- 
 norance. For  if  the  definition  of  a  rational  mind  be, 
 *'  A  being  endowed  with  underftanding  and  will,"  (I 
 mention  only  the  two  principal  faculties)  there  is  no 
 doubt  but  it  is  equally  necellary  to  the  perff^ction,  and 
 confequently  to  the  happinefs  of  every  rational  being, 
 that  its  underftanding  be  enlarged  and  improved  by 
 knowledge,  as  that  its  will  be  formed  and  dire<^ed  by  a 
 fenfe  of  duty.  To  put  the  matter  upon  its  proper  foot, 
 we  ought  to  confider  the  improvement  of  every  faculty 
 of  our  minds  as  a  part  of  virtue,  of  which  afterwards. 
 And  in  doing  fo,  we  fhall  find,  that  there  ought  to  be 
 FiO  diltinclion  between  the  love  of  knowledge  and  of 
 virtue  ;  it  being  evident,  that  the  proper  improvement 
 and  due  conduci  of  the  underftanding  is  an  indifpen- 
 t,  fable  part  of  the  duty  of  every  rational  being.  Juil;  fen- 
 timents  of  the  fupreme  Governor  of  the  world,  of  our 
 own  nature  and  Itate,  of  the  fitnefs  and  propriety  of 
 moral  good,  and  the  fatal  effects  of  irregularity,  are  the 
 only  fure  foundation  ofgoodnefs.  Now,  to  attain  full 
 and  clear  notions  of  thefe,  it  will  be  ncceilliry  to  make 
 pretty  exeenlive  inquiries,  to  carry  our  refearchcs  a  con- 
 iiderable  way  into  the  works  of  God,  from  wlit^iC*d'^.»e 
 dravv' the  clearefl  conceptions  of  his  nature  and  attri- 
 butes ;  to  Rudy  our  own  nature  and  (tate,  with  the  va- 
 rious pafiions,  appetites,  and  inclinations,  whidh  enter 
 into  our  conftitution;  the  conneftions  and  relations  we 
 Hand  in  to  one  another  j  and  the  difierent  natures  and, 
 confequences  of  acftions,  according  to  the  motives  they 
 .fpring   from,    and  the  circumftances    which   diveriify 
 
 them 
 
OfKmtch'dgf.)       HUMAN  NATURE.  225 
 
 theai.  All  this,  I  fay,  will  be  of  iitimenfe  advantage 
 for  raifing  us  above  vice,  and  confirming  us  in  a  Heady 
 courfe  of  virtue,  v/hich  is  the  dire6l  tendency  of  all  true 
 knowledge,  and  the  efFedt  it  never  fails  to  produce  in 
 every  honed  and  uncorrupted  mind. 
 
 And  though  it  muft  be  owned,  that  an  illiterate  day- 
 labourer,  who  earns  his  living  by  hedging  and  ditching, 
 who  is  devout  toward  his  God,  and  benevolent  to  his 
 neighbour,  is  a  much  nobler  and  more  valuable  being 
 in  the  fight  of  his  Maker,  than  the  moft  acconipliflied 
 courtier,  who  fupports  his  grandeur  by  the  wages  of 
 iniquity ;  nay,  though  it  is  evident,  that  great  know- 
 ledge will  even  make  a  vticked  being  the  worfe,  as  it 
 enables  him  to  be  more  extenlively  wicked  ;  it  does  not 
 therefore  follow,  that  knowledge  is  of  no  confcquence 
 to  virtue  ;  but  only  that  vice  is  of  fo  fat?.!  and  deftmc- 
 tive.a  nature,  as  to  poifon  and  pervert  the  bell  things 
 where  it  enters.  If  the  above  day-labourer,  by  the 
 mere  goodnefs  of  his  heart,  may  be  acceptable  to  God, 
 and  elleemed  by  ail  good  men,  how  much  higher  might 
 he  have  rifen,  with  the  addition  of  extenfive  improve- 
 ments in  knov.'ledge?  Could  ever  a  Woola/ion  or  a  Cud- 
 ijDorih  have  formed  fuch  juft,  or  fuch  fublime  notions  of 
 virtue  and  of  fpiritual  things  ?  Could  they  ever  have  ar- 
 rived at  the  pitch  of  goodnefs  themfelves  reached,  or 
 could  they  have  reprefented  it  in  the  amiable  lights  they 
 have  done,  fo  as  to  gain  others  to  the  ftudy  and  practice 
 of  it,  without  exteniively-improved  abilities? 
 
 Enough,  methinks,  has  therefore  been  faid  to  invite 
 readers,  efpecially  the  younger  fort,  to  engage  in  the 
 truly  noble  and  worthy  labour  of  improving  their  minds, 
 rather  than  indulging  theiv  fenfes  ;  of  cultivating  the 
 immortal  part,  rather  than  pampering  the  body,  of  a- 
 fpiiing  to  a  refemblance  of  the  nature  of  angels,  yather 
 than  finking  themfelves  to  the  rank  of  the  brutes. 
 
 It  is  amazing  and  delightful  to  confider,  what  feem- 
 ingly  diiScuk  things  are  done  by  means  of  human  know- 
 ledge, fcanty  and  confined  as  it  is.  The  wonders  per- 
 i^formed  by  means  of  reading  and  writing  are  fo  ftriking, 
 that  fome  learned  men  have  given  it  as  their  opinion, 
 that  the  whole  was  commanicated  to  mankind  origi- 
 3  nally 
 
ta<i  THE  DIGNITY  Ol?  -  fBo<-:>.  If, 
 
 nally  by  fome  fuperioi  being.  That  by  means  of  the 
 TariouS'Conipoiitions  of  about  twenty  different  articula- 
 tions of  the  human  voice,  performed  by  the  cifallance 
 of  the  liiRgs,  the  glottis,  the  tongue,  the  lips,  and  the 
 teeth,  ideas  of  all  lenfible  and  intelligible  objeds  in  na- 
 ture, in  art,  in  fcience,  in  hiftory,  in  morals,  in  fuper- 
 naturals,  fnould  be  communicable  from  one  niii'd  to 
 another  ;  and  again,  that  hgns  fhould  be  contrived,  by 
 which  thofe  articulations  of  the  human  voice  IhoUid  be 
 exprcfied,  fo  as  to  be  communicable  from  one  mind  to 
 another  by  the  eye  ;  this  feems  really  beyond  the  reach 
 ofhumanity  left  to  itfelf.  To  imagine,  for  example, 
 the  firft  of  mankind  capable  of  inventing  any  fet  of 
 founds,  which  flioald  be  fit  to  communicate  to  one  ano- 
 ther the  idea  of  what  is  meant  by  the  words  virtue  or 
 rectitude,  or  any  other  idea  wholly  uncormeded  with 
 any  kind  of  found  whatever,  and  afterwards  of  invent- 
 ing a  fet  of  figns,  which  flioukl  give  the  mind,  by  the 
 eye,  an  idea  of  v>'hat  is  properly  an  objecl  of  the  fcnfe 
 of  hearing  (as  a  word,  when  exprelTed  with  the  voice, 
 reprefents  an  idea,  which  is  the  mere  objecl  of  the  under- 
 fianding)  ;  to  imagine  mankind,  in  the  firil  ages  of  the 
 world,  without  any  hint  from  fuperior  beings,  capable 
 of  this,  feems  doing  too  great  honour  to  our  nature.  Be 
 that  as  it  will ;  that  one  man  Ihouid,  by  uttering  a 
 fet  of  founds  no  way  conneclcd  with,  or  naturally  re- 
 prefentative  of,  one  fet  of  ideas  more  than  another; 
 that  one  man  Hiould,  by  fuch  feemingly  unlit  means, 
 enlighten  the  underftanding,  roufe  the  paffions,  de- 
 light or  terrify  the  imagination  of  another  ;  and  that 
 he  fliould  not  only  be  able  to  do  this  when  prefent, 
 ■viva  voce  \  but  that  he  (liould  prod^uce  the  fame  efiedt 
 by  a  fet  of  figures  no  way  naturally  fit  to  reprefent  either 
 th-^  ideas  he  would  communicate,  or  (lefs  fiiil)  the  arti- 
 culate founds,  which  are  themfelves  but  rcprefentatives 
 of  ideas  ;  and  that  he  (hould  affed;  another  perfon  at 
 pleafure,  at  the  diilance  of  five  thoufand  miles,  and  with 
 as  much  precifion  and  accuracy  as  if  he  were  upon  the 
 fpot,  nay,  as  if  he  could  open  to  him  his  mind,  and 
 give  him  to  apprehend  the  idecs  as  they  lie  there  in 
 their  original  Itate,  is  truly  admirable.     The  tranflating 
 
 (lo 
 
OfKnnvIedge.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  127 
 
 (fo  to  fpeak)  ideas  into  founds,  the  tranllating  thofe 
 founds  into  vifible  objeds,  the  tranllating  one  fet  of 
 tliofe  vifible  objedls  into  another,  or  turning  one  lan- 
 guage into  another,  as  Hebrew^  Greek,  or  Latin,  into 
 EngJiJh  ;  all  this,  if  we  were  not  familiar  with  it,  would 
 appear  a  fort  of  magic;  but  our  being  accuftomed  to  it 
 does  not  lelFen  its  real  excellence. 
 
 Again,  if  we  conlider  what  ftrange  things  are  com- 
 monly done  by  every  novice  in  nuaibers,  we  cannot 
 help  admiring  the  excellence  of  knowledge.  To  tell 
 an  Indian,  that  a  boy  of  twelve  years  of  age  could,  by 
 making  a  few  fcrawls  upon  paper,  determine  the  num- 
 ber of  barley-corns,  which  would  go  round  the  globe 
 of  the  earth;  would  lUangely  ftaitle  him  I  To  talk  to 
 one  unacquainted  with  the  firft  principles  of  arithmetic, 
 of  adding  together  a  fet  of  numbers,  as  five  thoufand 
 five  hundred  and  fxfty-five,  fix  thoufand  fix  hundred 
 andlixty-fix,  feven  thoufand  fevenhuudred  and  fevcnty- 
 ieven,  and  fo  on  ;  to  the  number  of  twenty  or  thirty  lines 
 of  figures,  efpecially,  if  thofe  iinesconiidedofagreatmany 
 places  of  figures,  going  on  to  hundreds  of  thoufands, 
 millions,  billions,  trillions,  and  fo  on,  to  tell  fuch  a  per- 
 fon,  that  it  was  not  only  poffible,  bat  even  that  nothing 
 w?as  more  eafy  or  trifling,  than  to  determine  the  whole 
 amount  of  fuch  a  fet  of  numbers,  and  that  without 
 millaking  a  fingle  unit,  all  this  would  feem  to  the  untu- 
 tored Indian  utterly  incredible  and  impoflible  1  To  tel! 
 a  Barbarian,  that  nothing  was  niore  common,  than  for 
 traders  in  this  part  of  the  world,  to  buy  in  goods  to  the 
 value  of  many  thoufand  pounds,  to  fell  them  out  again 
 in  parcels,  not  exceeding  the  value  .of  ten  or  twenty 
 fhillings  each,  to  receive  in  their  money  only  once  a 
 year,  and  yet  that  they  committed  no  coniiderable  mif- 
 take,  nor  fuffered  any  material  lofs  in  the  dealings  of 
 many  years  together,  through  error  or  mifcaiculation  ; 
 he  would  conclude,  that  either  thofe  traders  had  me- 
 mories above  the  ufual  rate  of  human  nature,  or  that 
 they  had  fupernatural  affiftance  I  Yet  all  that  has  been 
 hitherto  mentioned,  and  a  thoufand  times  more,  is 
 Vv'hat  we  find  perfons  of  the  meaneft  natural  endow- 
 ments, and  the  narrowed  educations,  capable  of  acquir- 
 ing I    That  by  obferving  with  fo  finiple  an  inftrument 
 
 as 
 
128  ^HE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IT, 
 
 as  a  quadrant,  the  ai)parent  altitude  of  the  pole  at  one 
 place,  and  travelling  on,  till  we  find  it  elevated  a  de- 
 gree, that  from  thence  we  iliould  determine  with  un- 
 doubted certainty,  the  real  circuit  of  the  whole  globe 
 of  the  earth,  and  conlequentlv  its  diameter  and  femidi- 
 ameter  I  That  by  an  obfervation  of  the  parallax  of  the 
 moon,  which  is  not  difficult  to  take,  with  a  few  deduc- 
 tions and  calculations,  we  fnould,  by  knowing  the  pro- 
 portion between  the  unknown  lidcs  and  angles  of  a 
 triangle  and  thofe  which  are  known,  and  by  form- 
 ing a  triangle  according  to  obfervation,  the  bafe  of 
 which  to  reprefent  the  earth's  femi-diameter,  be  as  fiire 
 of  the  diftance  from  the  earth  to  the  moDn,  as  we  are 
 of  the  diftance  and  height  of  a  tower,  viewed  at  two 
 ftations!  ThatadronomersHiould  thence  proceed  through 
 all  their  wonderful  difcovericR  and  calculations :  The 
 conlideration  of  tbefe  things  gives  no  contemptible  idea" 
 of  human  knowledge.  If  we  proceed  to  the  calcula- 
 tion of  eclipfes,  determining  the  revolutions  and  paths 
 of  comets,  and  fo  forth,  we  cannot  help  looking  upon 
 the  degree  of  knowledge  we  are  capable  of  attaining, 
 as  highly  worthy  our  attention,  and  viewing  our  own 
 nature  as  truly  great  and  fublime,  and  the  Divine  Good- 
 nefs  as  highly  adorable,  which  has  endowed  our  minds 
 with  abilities  in  themfelves  fo  wonderful,  and  promiiing 
 of  endlefs  improvements  and  enlargements  I 
 
 In  what  light  then  ought  we  to  view  thofe  groveling 
 and  mean-fpirited  mortals,  who  make  a  pride  of  declar-. 
 ing  their  contempt  of  knowledge  ?  Did  one  hear  a  vici- 
 ous perfon  expreliing  his  contempt  of  honedy  and  vir- 
 tue, fliould  we  think  the  more  meanly  of  them,  or  of 
 hixn  ?  In  the  fame  manner,  when  a  fliallow  fop  fneers 
 at  what  he  does  not  underftand,  his  low  raillery  ought 
 to  call  no  refiedion  upon  learning  ;  but  he  is  to  be  con- 
 lidercd  as  funk  from  the  dignity  of  reafon,  and  fo  far 
 degenerate  as  to  make  his  ignorance  his  pride,  which 
 ought  to  be  his  fliame.  / 
 
 If  we  call  our  eyes  backward  upon  pad  times,  or  if 
 wc  take  a  view  of  the  prefent  flate  of  the  world,  if  we 
 confider  v^'hole  nations,  or  fingle  pcrfons,  nothing  fo  fills 
 the  imagination,   or  engages  the  auention,   as  the  con- 
 
 fpicuous 
 
OfKmwlalge.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  129 
 
 fpicuous  and  illuftrious  honours  of  knowledge  and  learn- 
 ing. The  ancient  Egyptians,  the  fathers  of  wiidom  ; 
 the  (tadious  Athenians,  the  cultivators  of  every  elegant 
 art ;  the  wife  Romans,  the  zealous  imitators  of  learned 
 Greece  ;  how  come  thefe  nations  to  fliine,  like  conftella- 
 tions,  through  the  deeps  ot"  that  univerfii  mift  which 
 involves  the  reft  of  antiquity  ?  How  come  xh^Pytbago- 
 ras^Sy  the  Arijlotles,  the  Tullys,  the  Livys  to  appear, 
 even  to  us  at  this  dittance,  as  ftars  of  the  firft  magnicude 
 in  the  vafl  fields  of  aether?  How  comes  it  that  Afric^ 
 lince  the  fetting  of  learning  in  that  quarter  of  the  world, 
 has  been  the  habitation  of  obfcurity  and  cruelty  ?  Whan 
 is  the  difgrace  of  wild  Indians^  and  Uvinilh  Hottentots  '^ 
 Is  itnot  their  brutifti  ignorance  ?  What  makes  our  ifland 
 to  differ  fo  much  from  the  afpeft  it  had  when  Jidiiis 
 drfar  landed  on  our  coaft,  and  found  us  a  flock  of 
 painted  favages,  fcampering  naked  through  the  woods  ? 
 What  nation  makes  fuchan  appearance  now,  as  England, 
 wherever  knowledge  is  valued  ?  What  names  of  ancient 
 warriors  make  fo  great  a  figure  on  the  roll  of  fame,or{hinc 
 fo  bright  in  wifdom's  eye,  as  thofeof  the  improvers  of  arts 
 and  fciences,  who  have  arifen  in  our  ifland  ?  Who  would 
 not  rather,  in  our  times,  who  know  to  delpife  romantic 
 heroifm,  choofe  to  have  his  name  enrolled  with  thofe  of 
 a  Bacon,  a  Bnyle,  a  Clarke,  or  a  Newton,  the  friends  of 
 mankind,  the  guides  to  truth,  the  improvers  of  the 
 human  mind,  the  honours  of'our  nature,  and  our  world  ; 
 than  to  have  a  place  among  the  Alexanders,  the  Ccejars, 
 the  Lewis''Sj,  or  the  Charles'' s^  the  fcourges  and  butchers 
 of  their  fellow-creatures  ? 
 
 SECT.     I. 
 
 Of  Education  from  Infancy.  Abfolute  Necejjity,  and 
 proper  Method,  of  laying  a  Fdundation  of  Moral 
 Knowledge, 
 
 AVING  already  treated  in  part,  of  fo  much  of  the 
 education  of  young  children  as  fills  under  the 
 care  of  the  parents,  I  will  now,  for  the  fake  of  exhi- 
 biting at  once  a  compreheniive  view  of  the  whole  im- 
 provement of  the  mind,  begin  from  infancy  itfelf  j   and 
 
 K  hy 
 
130  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  11. 
 
 lay  down  a  general  plan  of  knovA'ledge,  an^  the  method 
 of  acquiring  it.  And  I  doubt  not  but  the  reader  will 
 own,  that  a  genius  natuvaliv  good,  and  which  has  been 
 cultivated  in  the  manner  here  to  be  defcribed,  may  be 
 faid  to  have  had  mod  of  the  advantages  neceffary  for 
 attaining  the  higheft  perfedion  of  human  nature,  of 
 which  this  ftate  is  capable. 
 
 Firft,  and  above  all  things,  it  is  to  be  remembered, 
 and  cannot  be  too  often  inculcated,  that,  from  the  time 
 a  child  can  fpeak,  throughout  the  whole  courfe  of  edu- 
 cation, the  forming  of  the  temper  to  meeknefs  and  obe- 
 dience, regulating  the  pafTions  and  appetites,  and  habi- 
 tuating the  mind  to  the  love  and  pradice  of  virtue,  is 
 the  great,  the  conftant,  and  growing  labour,  without 
 ■which  all  other  culture  is  abfolute  trifling.  Nor  is  this 
 to  be  done  by  fits  and  itarts,  nor  this  moil  important  of 
 all  knowledge  to  be  fuperficially  or  partially  communi- 
 cated. Every  obligation  of  morality  ;  every  duty  of 
 life;  every  beauty  of  virtne,  and  deformity  of  vice,  is 
 to  be  particularly  let  forth,  and  reprefented  in  every 
 difFtrent  light.  It  is  not  a  few  fcraps  of  good  things 
 got  by  memory,  nor  a  few  particular  lelTons  given  from 
 time  to  time,  that  can  be  called  a  religious  education. 
 Without  laying  before  the  young  mind  a  rational,  a 
 complete  and  perfed  fyftetn  of  morals,  and  of  Chrifti- 
 anity,  the  work  will  be  dcfedive  and  unfinilhed.  Thefe 
 important  lefibns  mull;  be  begun  early  ;  conftantly  in- 
 culcated ;  never  loil  light  of;  raifed  from  every  occa- 
 iion  and  opportunity  ;  improved  and  enlarged  as  reafon 
 opens;  worked  into,  every  facuUy  of  the  f')ul ;  begun 
 by  parents ;  carried  oil  by  the  mafter  or  tutor  ;  eita- 
 blifhed  by  the  man  himfelf,  when  of  age  to  inquire 
 and  to  ad  for  himfelf;  ftudied  every  day  and  every 
 hour,  while  one  faculty  remains  capable  of  exerting  it- 
 felf  in  the  mind  ;  and  the  man,  when  full  of  years, 
 mull  ftill  proceed,  and  at  laft  go  out  of  the  world  en- 
 gaged in  the  important  ftudy  of  his  duty,  and  means 
 for  atUiining  the  happinel's  and  perfedion  for  which  he 
 was  brought  into  being. 
 
 The   knowledge    of   morality    and    Chriftianity    is 
 the  abfoiutely    indifpenfable  part  of  education.     For 
 
 vvhat 
 
OfKno%vledge.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  131 
 
 what  avails  it  how  knowing  a  perfon  i<^  in  fpecnlative 
 fcience,  if  he  knows  not  how  to  be  ufefal  and  happy  ? 
 If  this  work  be  neglected  in  the  earlier  part  of  life,  it 
 muft  be  owing  to  fo.Tie  very  favourable  circumftances, 
 if  the  perfon  turns  ont  well  afterwards.  For  the  human 
 mind  refembles  a  piece  of  ground,  which  will  by  no 
 means  lie  wholly  bare  ;  but  will  either  bring  forth 
 weeds  or  fruits^  according  as  it  is  cultivated  or  neg- 
 ledted.  And  according  as  the  habi\s  of  vice  and  irreli- 
 gion,  or  the  contrary,  get  the  firft  polTeilioij  of  the  mind, 
 fuch  is  the  future  man  like  to  be. 
 
 We  fee  that  the  grofs  fuperilitions  and  monftrous  ab- 
 furdities  of  popery,  by  the  mere  circumftance  of  their 
 being  early  planted  in  the  mind,  are  not  to  be  eradi- 
 cated afterwards,  though  it  is  certain,  that,  as  reafon. 
 opens,  and  the  judgment  matures,  they  muft  appear  ftill 
 more  and  more  fhocking.  With  how  great  advantage, 
 then,  may  we  eftablifh  in  the  minds  of  young  ones  the 
 principles  of  a  religion  ftridly  rational,  and  that  will 
 appear  the  more  fo,  the  more  it  is  examined.  ^• 
 
 It  is  plain,  that  early  youth  is  the  fitteft  ieafon  of  life  y"" 
 for  eftablilliing  firft:  principles  of  any  kuid,  becaufe  then 
 the  mind  is  wholly  difengaged  from  the  puriuits  v^'hich 
 afterwards  take  pofTeffion  of  it.  And  the  knowledge  of 
 right  and  wrong  is  indeed  the  moft  level  to  all  capaci- 
 ties of  any  fcience  whatever.  For  we  are  properly  mo- 
 ral agents,  and  are  naturally  qualified  with  fufficient 
 abilities  to  underftand  the  obligations  of  morality,  when 
 laid  before  us,  if  we  can  but  be  prevailed  with  to  ob- 
 ferve  them  in  our  pradice  ;  for  which  purpofe  the  mod 
 effedual  method,  no  doubt,  is  to  have  them  early  incul- 
 cated upon  us. 
 
 We  do  not  think  it  proper  to  leave  our  children  to 
 themfelves,  to  find  out  the  fciences  of  grammar,  or  num- 
 bers, or  the  knowledge  of  languages,  or  the  art  of  writ- 
 ing, or  of  a  profeffion  to  live  by.  And  fhall  we  leave 
 them  to  fettle  the  boundaries  of  right  and  wrong  by 
 their  own  fagacity  ;  or  to  negledl,  or  mifunderftand,  a 
 religion,  which  God  himfeif  has  condefcended  to  give 
 us,  as  the  rule  of  our  faith  and  pradlice?  What  can  it 
 fignify  to  a  youth,  that  he  go  through  all  the   liberal 
 
 K  2  fciences, 
 
f^2  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Bsok  Jl.. 
 
 Iciences,  if  he  is  ignorant  of  the  rales  by  which  he 
 ought  to  live,  and  by  which  he  is  to  be  judged  at 
 lali.  Will  Greek  and  Latin  alone  gain  him  the  efteeni 
 of  the  wife  and  virtuous  r  or  will  philofophy  and  mathe- 
 matics fave  his  foul? 
 
 I  know  of  but  one  objedlion  againft  the  importance 
 of  what  I  am  urging,  which  is  taken  from  the  deplora- 
 ble degeneracy,  we  fometimes  oblerve  the  children  of 
 pious  and  virtuous  parents  run  into,  who  have  had  the 
 utmoft  pains  taken  with  them,  to  give  them  a  turn  to 
 virtue  and  goodnels. 
 
 But  is  it  not  in  ibme  cafes  to  be  feared,  that  parents, 
 through  a  miltaken  notion  of  the  true  method  of  giving 
 youth  a  religious  turn,  often  run  into  the  extreme  of 
 furfeiting  them  with  religions  exercifes,  inftead  of  la- 
 bouring chieBy  to  enlighten  and  convince  their  under- 
 ilandings,  and  to  foim  their  tempers  to  obedience. 
 The  former,  though  noble  and  valuable  helps,  appointed 
 by  Divine  Wifdom  for  promoting  virtue  and  goodnels^ 
 may  yet  be  fo  managed  as  to  difguit  a  young  mind, 
 and  prejudice  it  againft  religion  for  life  ;  but  the  latter, 
 properly  conduced,  will  prove  an  endlefsly-various  en- 
 tertainment. There  is  not  a  duty  of  morality,  you  can 
 have  occalion  to  inculcate,  but  what  may  give  an  oppor- 
 tunity of  railing  fome  entertaining  obfervation,  or  intro- 
 ducing fome  amuiing  hillory  •,  and  nothing  can  be  more 
 llriking  than  the  accounts  of  fupernatural  things,  of 
 which  Holy  Scripture  is  full.  And  though  it  may 
 fometimes  happen,  that  a  youth  well  brought  up  may, 
 by  the  force  of  temptation,  run  into  fatal  errors  in  after- 
 life, yet  fuch  a  one,  it  muft  be  owned,  has  a  much  bet- 
 ter chance  of  recovering  the  right  way,  than  one,  who 
 never  was  put  in  it.  I  am  alhamed  to  add  any  more 
 upon  the  h-^ad  ;  it  being  a  kind  of  affront  to  the  under- 
 llandings  of  mankind,  to  labour  to  convince  them  of  a 
 truth  as  evident  as  that  the*  fun  ibines  at  noon-day. 
 
 That  it  may  unqueRifinably  appear  to  be  fully  prac- 
 ticable for  a  parent,  or  tutor,  to  eilablifli  youth,  from 
 the  tendered  years,  in  principles  of  virtue  and  religion, 
 by  realon,  not  by  authority,   by  underilanding,  not  by 
 
 rote  ; 
 
OfKnowlecJge.J        HUMAN   NATURE.  133 
 
 rote  ;  I  will  here  add  a  Iketch  of  u  hat  I  know  may  be 
 taught  with  fuccefs. 
 
 A  parent,  in  any  llation  of  life  whatever,  may,  and  -X- 
 ought  to  beftow  fome  time  every  day,  in  inftru6ting  his 
 children  in  the  moft  ufeful  of  all  know'edge.  Half  an 
 hour,  or  an  hour  every  day,  will  be  fufficient  to  go 
 through  a  great  deal  of  fuch  fort  of  work  in  a  year. 
 And  n'h'dt  parent  will  pretend,  that  he  cannot  find  half 
 an  hour  a  day  for  the  moft  important  of  all  bufinefs  ? 
 At  three  or  four  years  of  age,  a  child  of  ordinary  parts 
 is  capable  of  being  fhewn  and  convinced,  "  That  obe- 
 **  dience  is  better  than  perverfenels  ;  that  good  nature 
 *■*  is  more  amiable  than  peeviQinefs ;  that  knowledge  is 
 *'  preferable  to  ignorance  ;  that  it  is  wicked  to  diiiem.- 
 **  ble,  to  life  any  'jne  ill,  to  be  cruel  to  birds,  or  infeds  ; 
 '*  that  it  is  wrong  to  do  any  thing  to  another,  which 
 *'  one  would  not  wifh  done  to  one's  feif ;  that  the  world 
 *'  was  made  by  one  who  is  very  great,  wife,  and  good, 
 **  who  is  every  waiere,  arid  knows  every  thing  that  is 
 "  thought,  fpoke,  or  done  by  men  ;  that  there  will  be 
 "  a  time  when  all,  that  ever  lived,  ivill  be  judged  by 
 *'  God  ;  and  that  they,  who  have  been  good,  will  go  to 
 "  heaven  among  the  angels,  and  they  who  have  been 
 *'  wicked,  to  hell  among  evil  fpirits.'' 
 
 There  are  few  children  of  three  or  four  years  of  age, 
 who  are  not  capable  of  having  their  underttandings 
 opened,  and  their  minds  formed,  by  fuch  fimpie  princi- 
 ples as  thefe :  and  thefe,  fimpie  as  they  feem,  are  thei 
 ground-work  of  mor?.lity  and  religion. 
 
 As  the  faculties  ftrengthen,  farther  views  may  by  de- 
 grees be  prefented  to  the  opening  mind  ;  and  every, 
 lellbn  illuftrated  and  inculcated  by  inllances  taken  from 
 the  Bible,  and  other  books,  or  from  characlers  known 
 to  the  teacher.  The  aflving  queftions  upon  every  head 
 and  bringing  in  liule  familiar  itories  proper  for  the  oc- 
 cafion,  will  keep  up  a  young  one's  attention,  and  make 
 fuch  exercifes  extremely  entertaining,  without  which 
 they  will  not  be  ufeful. 
 
 Befides  all  fet  hours  for  inftrudion,  a  prudent  parent 
 will  contrive  to  apply  as  much  fpare  time  as  pollible 
 that  way,  and  to  bring  in  fome  ufeful  and  inltruclive  hint 
 
 K  3  on 
 
134  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  11. 
 
 on  every  cccafion  ;   to  moralize  upon  the  blowing  of  a 
 feather,  and  read  a  ledtare  on  a  pile  of  grafs,  or  a  flower. 
 
 Can  any  one  think,  that  inch  a  method  of  giving 
 "  line  upon  line,  precept  upon  precept,  here  a  little  and 
 *'  there  a  little,"  is  likely  to  mifs  having  a  conliderable 
 effi.'(fl"  upon  the  mind,  for  leading  it  to  an  early  habit  of 
 attending  to  the  nature  and  confequences  of  adlions,  of 
 defiring  to  pleale,  and  fearing  t(.  offend,  which  if  people 
 could  but  bs  brought  to  accuftom  themfeives  to  from 
 their  youth,  they  would  never,  in  after-life,  a6l  the  rafli 
 anddefperate  part-%ve  fee  many  do„ 
 
 Nor  if  thcic  any  thing  tt)  hinder  a  mailer  of  a  private, 
 place  of  education  to  beftow  generally  an  hour  every 
 day,  and  more  on  Sundays,  in  intruding  the  youth  un- 
 der his  care  in  the  principles  ol  prudt  rce,  morality, 
 and  religion.  This  may  be  digeiled  ;nto  a  fcheme 
 of  twenty  or  thirty  ledures,  beginning  from  the 
 very  foundation,  and  going  through  all  the  principal 
 particulars  of  our  duty  to  God,  our  neighbour,  andour- 
 felves,  and  from  thence  proceeding  to  a  view  of  the 
 fundamental  dodrines,  evidences,  and  laws  of  revealed 
 religion.  In  all  which  there  is  nothing  but  what  may 
 be  brought  down  to  the  apprehenlion  of  very  young 
 minds,  by  proceeding  gently,  and  iuiting  one's  exprei- 
 ilons  to  the  weak  capacities  of  the  learners ;  doing  all  by 
 ■way  of  queftion,  without  which  it  is  irapoffible  to  keep 
 up  their  attention,  and  in  tiie  manner  of  familiar  dia- 
 logue, rather  than  fet  harangue,  or  magifterial  precept. 
 
 Above  all  things  care  ought  to  be  taken,  that  religi- 
 ous knowledge  be  as  little  as  poffible  put  on  the  foot  of 
 a  talk.  A  parent,  or  teacher,  who  communicates  his 
 inftrudlions  of  this  kind  in  fuch  a  inanner,  as  to  tire  or 
 difgult  the  young  mind,  though  he  may  mean  well, 
 does  more  harm  than  good.  A  young  perfon  will  have 
 a  better  chance  for  taking  to  a  courfe  of  virtue  and  re- 
 ligion, if  kit  wholly  to  himfelf,  than  if  fet  againft  them 
 by  a  wrong  method  of  education.  The  mind,  like  a 
 fpring,  if  unnaturally  forced  one  way,  will,  when  let 
 looie,  recoU  fo  much  the  more  violently  the  contrary  way. 
 
 The  Lrft  Sunday-evening's  converfation,  between  the 
 mailer  and  pupils  in  a  place  of  education,  might  be  upori 
 
 happinefs. 
 
Of  Knowledge.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  135 
 
 hapniuefs  in  general.  Queftions  miglit  be  put  to  the 
 eldeli  of  the  youth,  as,  whether  they  ciid  not  cleiire  to 
 fecure  their  own  happinefs  in  'he  mod  eficdlual  way; 
 or  if  they  would  be  content  to  be  happy  for  a  few  years, 
 and  take  their  chance  afterwards.  They  might  be 
 afked,  what  they  thought  happinefs  confifted  in,  if  in 
 good  eating,  drinking,  play,  and  fine  clothes  only  ;' 
 or  whether  they  did  not  tiiiuk  a  creature  capable  of 
 thought,  of  doing  good  or  e-vil,  and  of  living  for  ever 
 in  a  intare  ftate,  ought  to  make  fome  provihon  of  a  hap- 
 pinfill  luitable  to  its  fpiritual  part.  For  illuftrating  this, 
 thev  might  be  aflvcd  wherein  they  thought  the  refpoc- 
 tive  happinefs  of  a  bealt,  a  man,  and  an  angel  confiftedo 
 They  might  be  taught  partly  what  makes  she  diiTerence 
 of  thole  natures,  and  fome  general  account  given  them 
 of  the  nature. of  man,  his  faculties,  paiilons,  and  appe- 
 tites. They  might  be  a(ked,  whether  they  did  not 
 think,  that  the  only  certain  means  for  attaining  the 
 greatell  happinefs  mankind  are  capable  of,  was  to  en- 
 deavour to  gain  the  favour  of  God,  v.ho  has  all  poflible 
 happinefs  in  his  power. 
 
 The  next' 'Sunday-evening's  converfation  might  be 
 upon  the  mod  likely  means  for  gaining  the  favour  of 
 God,  in  order  to  fecuring  happinefs.  The  youth  might 
 be  afked,  whether  they  did  not  think  there  was  a  dif- 
 ference in  the  conduci  of  different  perfons,  and  in  the 
 effeds  of  their  behaviour  upon  the  affairs  of  the  world, 
 Infiances  might  be  made  ufe  of,  to  fl]iew  in  genera), 
 that  the  natural  tendency  of  a  virtuou?  behaviour  is  to 
 diffufe  happinefSj  and  that  vice  naturally  produces  ccn- 
 fufion  and  mifery.  Tboy  might  be  aiked,  what  would 
 be  theconfequence,  if  all  men  gave  themfelves  to  drunk- 
 ennefs,  and  other  kinds  of  intemperance';  qr  to  cruelty 
 and  violence  ;  and  might  be  made  to  fee,  that  if  ail 
 men  were  wicked,  the  world  could  by  no  means  fub- 
 iift.  From  thence  they  might  be  led  on  to  conclude,  that 
 it  was  to  be  expeded  vice  would  ahvays  be  dif|ileafing 
 to  God  ;  that  confequently  none  but  the  virtuous  could 
 reafonably  expect  to  be  finally   happy,   however  they 
 
 K  4  niight; 
 
i:^6  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  11. 
 
 might  be  fuffered  to  pafs  through  the  prefent  life. 
 They  might  then  be  fhewn,  that  all  the  good  or  bad 
 adions  of  men  muft  relate  either  to  themfelves,  to  their 
 fellow-creatures,  or  to  God.  And  that  whatever  adion 
 can  have  no  efP-d:  either  upon  one's  felf,  or  any  other 
 pcilon,  and  is  neither  plcafing  nor  difpleafing  to  God, 
 cannot  be  called  eirher  virtuous  or  vicious. 
 
 The  fubje6l  of  the  third  evening's  converiation  might 
 be  the  introduction  to  the  firft  head  of  dut\,  viz.  that 
 ■^vhich  relates  to  ourfelves.  The  youth  might  be  (hewn 
 the  propriety  of  beginning  with  that,  as  it  is  neceffary 
 toward  a  pe'rfon's  behaving  well  ro  others,  that  his  own 
 mind  be  in  good  order.  They  might  be  taught,  that 
 our  duty  to  ourfelves' couiifls  in  the  due  care  of  our 
 minds,  and  of  our  bodies.  They  might  be  alked,  whe- 
 ther they  did  not  think  the  underitanding  was  to  be 
 improved  with  ufeful  knowledge  ;  the  memory  culti- 
 vated and  habituated  for  retaining  important  truth  ;  the 
 will  fubdued  to  obedience;  and  the  paffions  fubjected 
 to  the  authority  of  reafon.  They  might  be  fiiewn,  in 
 a  few  general  infiances,  what  would  be  the  confequence 
 if  none  of  thefe  was  to  be  done  ;  what  a  condition  the 
 mind  muft  be  in,  which  is  neglefted,  and  fuffered  to 
 run  to  abfolute  mifrule.  They  miiiht  then  be  inform- 
 ed briefly  of  the  ufes  and  ends  of  the  paffions,  and  their 
 proper  conduct. 
 
 T'he  converfation  the  fourth,  and  one  or  two  fucceed-. 
 ing  evenings,  might  proceed  to  the  neceffity  and  means 
 of  regulating  the  feveral  pnffions,  whofe  excefs,  and  the 
 bad  confequences  of  fuch  excefs,  might  be  pointed  out. 
 The  paffions  not  to  be  rooted  up,  but  put  under  proper 
 regnln lions.  Excefs  in  the  indulgence  of  them,  how 
 firll  lun  into,  and  cautions  to  guard  againll  it.  Of  felf- 
 love,  lelf-opinion  or  pride,  ambition,  anger,  envy,  ma- 
 lice, revenge,  and  the  rell ;  of  which,  as  I  Ihall  have  cc- 
 calion  to  treat  pretty  copjoufly  in  tiie  third  book,  I  fhall 
 add  nothing  farther  at  prefent,  but  refer  the  reader  thi- 
 ther lor  a  method  of  treating  them,  which  may  with 
 advantage  be  ufed  in  inftruding  youth,  excluding  what 
 may  be  thought  too  abftracl  for  their  apprehenfion. 
 Kor  mafters  are  to  proceed  with  prudencCj  according  to 
 
 the 
 
Of  Knowledge.)        HUMAN  NATURE.      '  137 
 
 the  various  capacities  of  the  youth  under  their  care  ; 
 never  taking  it  for  granted,  that  fuch  and  fuch  parts  of 
 i7ioral  knowledge  are  beyond  their  reach  ;  but  putting 
 their  capacities  to  a  thorough  trial,  which  wili  fliew, 
 contrary  to  common  opinion,  how  early  the  human 
 mind  is  capable  of  comprehending  very  noble  and  ex- 
 tenfive  moral  views. 
 
 To  treat  of  the  due  regulation  of  the  bodily  appetites, 
 as  they  are  commonly  called,  will  be  employment  for 
 feveral  evenings.  The  love  of  life,  of  riches,  of  food, 
 of  ftrong  liquors,  of  fleep,  of  the  oppofite  lex,  (a  fub- 
 jedt  to  be  very  llightly  touched  on)  of  diverfions,  of 
 finery  ;  the  due  regulation  of  each  of  thefe  is  to  be 
 pointed  out,  and  the  fatal  confequences  of  too  great  an 
 indulgence  of  them,  as  ftrongly  as  poffible  fet  forth ; 
 with  cautions  againft  the  fnares  by  which  young  people 
 are  firft  led  into  fenfuality,  and  methods  of  prevention 
 or  reformation.  Of  all  which  I  fhall  likevvife  have  oc- 
 cafion  to  treat  in  the  third  book.  The  virtues,  contrary 
 to  the  exccflive  indulgence  of  pafiion  and  appetite,  ought 
 to  be  ftrongly  recommended,  as  humility,  meeknefs,  mo- 
 deration in  defires,  coniideration,  and  contentment. 
 And  it  is  not  enough  that  young  perfons  underftand 
 theoretically  wherein  a  good  difpolition  of  mind  con- 
 iifts.  They  are  to  be  held  to  the  ftridl  obfervance  of  it 
 in  their  whole  behaviour.  One  inftance  of  malice, 
 cruelty,  or  deceit,  is  a  fault  more  necefPary  to  be  pu- 
 nifhed,  than  the  negledl  of  fome  hundreds  of  talks. 
 And  it  mud  appear  to  every  underllanding,  that  the 
 keeping  a  youth  under  proper  regulations,  even  by  me- 
 chanical means,  is  of  great  advantage,  as  he  wili  there- 
 by be  habituated  to  what  is  good,  and  muft  find  a  vici- 
 ous courfe  unnatural  to  him.  And  there  is  no  doubt 
 but  the  minds  of  youth  may  be  rationally,  as  w^ell  as 
 mechanically,  formed  to  virtue,  by  the  prudent  conduft 
 and  iniirudions  of  maflers,  where  parents  will  give  their 
 concurrence  and  fandlion. 
 
 Several  evenings  may  be  employed  in  giving  the  youth 
 a  view  of  our  duty  to  our  neighbour,  under  which  the 
 relative  duties  ought  to  beconfidered  ;  and  particularly 
 that  fundamental,  but  now  unknown  virtue  of  the  love 
 
 of 
 
J38  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  II. 
 
 of  our  country,  very  ftrongly  recommended.  Matertnls, 
 and  a  method  of  inftrufting  the  youth  in  the  duties  of 
 negative  and  pofitive  JL^.ftice  and  benevolence,  may  be 
 drawn  from  what  will  be  iliid  on  fecial  virtue  in  the 
 third  book. 
 
 Young  people  of  good  underftandina:  may  be  ratio- 
 nally convinced  ot  the  certainty  ofthe  Divine  exillence, 
 by  a  fet  of  arguments  not  too  abflrad,  but  yet  convin- 
 cing. The  ]ii'00i  a pc/ieriori,  as  it  is  commonh  called, 
 is  the  fitteil  to  be  dwelt  upon,  and  is  fully  level  to  the 
 capacity  of  a  youth  of  parts  at  fourteen  years  of  age. 
 An  idea  ofthe  Supreme  Being,  a  fei  of  ufetul  moral  re- 
 fledions  upon  his  perfediors,  and  an  account  of  the 
 duty  we  owe  him,  may  be  drawn  from  what  is  faid  on 
 that  fubjed  in  the  following  book. 
 
 To  habituate  young  people  to  reafon  on  moral  fub- 
 jeds,  to  teach  them  to  exert  their  faculties  in  compa- 
 ring, examining,  and  refleding,  is  domg  them  one  of 
 the  greaceft  fervices  that  can  be  imagiritxi.  And  as 
 there  is  no  real  merit  in  taking  religion  on  truft ;  bui  on 
 the  contrary,  a  reafonable  mind  cannot  be  better  em- 
 ployed, than  in  examining  into  facred  truth  :  and  as  no- 
 thing is  likely  to  pr.xluce  a  laftingeffed  upon  the  mind, 
 but  what  the  mind  is  clearly  convinced  of;  on  th^fe, 
 and  all  other  accounts,  it  is  abfolutely  neceffary  that 
 young  people  be  early  taught  to  confider  the  Cbriliian 
 religion,  not  as  a  matter  of  mere  form,  handed  down 
 from  father  to  Ton,  or  as  a  piece  of  (uperftition,  confid- 
 ing in  being  baptized,  and  called  after  the  Author  of 
 cur  religion,  but  as  a  fubjed  of  reafoning,  a  fyflem  of 
 dodrines  to  be  clearly  underllood,  a  fet  of  fads  efta- 
 blifiied  on  unqueftionable  evidence,  a  body  of  laws  given 
 hy  Divine  autkority,  which  are  to  better  the  hearts,  and 
 regulate  the  lives  of  men.  To  give  the  youth  at  a  place 
 of  education  a  compreheniive  view  of  only  the  heads  of 
 what  they  ought  to  be  taught  ofthe  Chriflian  religion, 
 will  very  nobly  and  ufefully  employ  feveral  evenings. 
 The  particulars  to  be  iniifted  on  may  be  drawn  from 
 the  fourth  book. 
 
 The  whole  courfe  may  conclude  WMth  an  explanation 
 ©f  our  Saviour's  difcourfe  on  the  mount,  Matth,  v.  vi. 
 
 and 
 
Of  KnoioleJge.)       HUMAN  NATURE.  13^ 
 
 and  vii.    which   contiins  the  Chriflian  law,  or  rule  of     — /' 
 life,   and   is  infiniely  inofe- proper  to  be  com  Viirted  to 
 memoi  y  by  youth,  than  all  the  catecnifms  that  tv-;!  were 
 or  will  be  rompofed. 
 
 This  may  be  a  proper  place  to  mention,  that  fron  the 
 earlieft  year?,  youth  ought  to  be  accuftomed  to  the  inoft 
 realonable  of  all  fervices,  I  mean  worth ipping  God.  It 
 is  no  matter  how  fnort  the  devotions  they  ule  may  be, 
 fo  they  offer  them  with  decency  and  underftanding  ; 
 without  which  they  had  better  let  them  alone;  for 
 they  will  be  a  prejudice  inftead  of  an  advantage  to 
 them. 
 
 Belldes  all  other  improvements,  endeavours  ought  to 
 be  ufed  to  lead  young  perfons  to  ftudy,  to  love,  and  to 
 form  themfelves  by  the  holy  Scriptures,  the  fountain  of 
 knowledge,  and  rule  of  life.  For  this  purpofe,  fome  of 
 the  time  allotted  for  moral  inftrudion,  in  a  feminary  of 
 learning,  may  be  interchangeably  beftovved  in  reading, 
 commenting,  and  queflioningthe  youth  upon  feled  parts 
 of  Scripture,  as  the  account  of  the  creation  and  flood, 
 the  remarkable  characfters  of  Noab,  Lot,  and  Abraham, 
 the  miraculous  hiftory  of  the  people  of  Ifrael,  the  moral 
 writings  o^  Solomo?2,  fome  of  the  moil  remarkable  pro- 
 phecies, with  accounts  of  their  completions,  the  Gofpel- 
 hiftory,  and  the  moral  parts  of  the  epiftles.  An  hour 
 every  morning  may  be  very  well  employed  in  this 
 manner. 
 
 A  courfe  of  fuch  infl:ru6lions  continued,  repeated, 
 and  improved  upon,  for  a  feries  of  years,  will  furnifli 
 the  young  mind  with  a  treafure  of  the  mod  valuable 
 and  fublime  knowledge,  and  muft,  with  the  Divine 
 blefiing,  give  it  a  caft  toward  the  virtuous  (ide,  which 
 it  muft  at  lead  find  fome  difficulty  in  getting  the  better 
 of  in  after-life. 
 
 For  any  man  to  put  hirafelf  at  the  head  of  a  place  of 
 education,  who  is  not  tolerably  qualified  for  explaining 
 the  nature  and  obligations  of  morality,  and  who  has  not 
 fome  critical  knowledge  of  Scripture,  is  intolerable  ar- 
 rogance and  v^ickednefs.  And  that  teacher  of  youth, 
 who  does  not  conlider  the  forming  of  the  moral  charac- 
 ter of  his  pupils  as  the  great  and  indifpenfable  part  of 
 
 his 
 
J4©  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IL 
 
 his  duty,  has  not  yet  learned  the  firft  principles  of  his 
 art. 
 
 SECT.    IL 
 
 Intention  and  Method  of  Education.     Concurrence  of  the 
 Parents  necejfary. 
 
 THE  fooner  a  boy  is  Tent  from  home  for  his  educa- 
 tion, the  better.  For  tiiough  the  parents  them- 
 feives  fhould  be  abundantly  capable  of  judging  of,  and 
 refolute  enough  to  keep  up  a  proper  condud  to  the 
 child,  which  is  very  feldom  the  cafe,  yet  there  wib  al- 
 ways be  enough  of  filly  relations  coming  and  going,  and 
 of  vifitants  flattering  and  humouring  bim  in  all  his 
 "weaknelTes  ;  which,  though  they  be  entertaining,  as 
 indeed  every  thing  is  from  a  pretty  child,  oufxht  with- 
 out all  queition  to  be  eradicated  as  fooij  as  poffibie,  in- 
 ilead  of  being  encouraged.  The  very  fervants  will 
 make  it  their  bufinefs  to  teach  him  a  thoufand  mon- 
 key-tricks, and  to  blame  the  parents  for  every  re- 
 proof or  corrc6lion  they  ufe,  though  ever  fo  feafonable 
 and  neceflary. 
 
 It  is  furprifing  that  ever  a  quedion  fliould  have  been 
 made,  whether  an  education  at  home  or  abroad  was  to 
 be  chofen.  In  a  b,orae-education,  it  is  plain,  that  the 
 advantage  ariling  from  emulation,  the  importance  of 
 which  is  not  to  be  conceived,  muft  be  loft.  It  is  like- 
 wife  obvious,  that  by  a  home-education  youth  milTes  all 
 the  advantage  of  being  accuftomed  to  the  company  of 
 his  equals,  and  being  early  hardened  by  the  little  rubs 
 he  will  from  time  to  time  meet  with  from  them,  againft 
 thofe  he  muft  lay  his  account  with  meeting  in  life, 
 '^xvhich  a  youth,  who  goes  diredly  out  of  his  mother's 
 lap  into  the  wide  world,  is  by  no  means  prepared  to 
 grapple  with,  nor  even  to  bear  the  light  of  ft  range 
 faces,  nor  to  eat,  drink,  or  lodge  difiercntly  from  the 
 manner  he  has  been  ufed  to  at  his  father's  houfe.  A 
 third  great  difadvantage  of  a  home-education,  is  the 
 miftTmg  a  number  of  ufeful  and  valuable  friendfliips  a 
 youth  might  have  contraded  at  fchool,  which,  being 
 begun  in  the  innocent  and  diftnterefted  time  of  life, 
 
 often 
 
tf  Knowledge.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  14^ 
 
 often  hold  through  the  whole  of  it,  and  prove  of  the 
 moll  important  advantage.  The  fooner  a  young  perfori 
 goes  from  the  folitary  (late  of  home  into  the  focial  life 
 of  a  place  of  education,  the  fooner  he  has  an  opportunity 
 of  knowing  what  it  is  to  be  a  member  of  fociety,  of  feeing 
 a  difference  between  a  right  and  a  wrong  behaviour,  of 
 learning  how  to  condud:  himfeif  among  his  equals,  and 
 in  Ihort,  the  fooner  he  is  likely,  under  proper  regula- 
 tions, to  become  a  formed  man. 
 
 The  view  of  education  is  not  to  carry  the  pupils  a 
 great  length  in  each  different  icience  ;  but  only  to  open 
 their  minds  for  the  reception  of  various  knowledge,  of 
 which  the  firft  feeds  and  principles  are  to  be  planted 
 early,  while  the  mind  is  flexible,  and  difengaged  from 
 a  multiplicity  of  ideas  and  purfuits.  Thofe  fseds  and 
 principles  are  afterwards  to  be  cultivated  by  the  man 
 when  grown  up,  and,  by  means  of  confamt  diligence 
 and  application,  may  be  expeded,  through  length  of 
 time,  to  produce  the  nobieit  and  moft  valuable  fruits. 
 From  hence  it  is  evident,  what  conftitutes  the  charader 
 of  a  perfon  properly  qualified  for  being  at  the  head  of 
 the  education  of  youth.  Not  fo  much  a  deep  fkill  in 
 languages  only,  or  in  mathematics  only,  or  in  any  fingle 
 branch  of  knowledge,  exclufive  of  the  refl ;  but  a  ge- 
 neral and  comprehenlive  knowledge  of  the  various 
 branches  of  learning,  and  the  proper  methods  of  ac- 
 quiring them,  with  clear  and  jull  notions  of  human  na- 
 ture, of  morals,  and  revealed  religion. 
 
 The  mofl  perfed  fchcme  that  has  yet  been  found  out,  ^I 
 or  is  poflible  for  the  whole  education  of  youth,  from  fix 
 years  of  age  and  upwards,  is  where  a  perfon,  properly 
 qualified,  with  an  unexceptionable  character  forgentle- 
 nefs  of  temper  and  exemplary  virtue,  good  breeding, 
 knowledge  of  the  world,  and  of  languages,  writing,  ac- 
 counts, book-keeping,  geography,  the  principles  of  phi- 
 lofophy,  mathematics,  hiftory,  and  divinity,  and  who  is 
 difengaged  from  all  other  purfuits,  employs  himfeif,  and 
 proper  afBllants,  wholly  in  the  care  and  inftradion  of  a 
 competent  number  of  youth  placed  in  his  own  houfe, 
 and  under  his  own  eye,  in  fuch  a  manner,  as  to  accom- 
 plifh  them  in  all  the  branches  of  ufeful  and  ornamental 
 
 knowledge 
 
142  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Boole  IrT 
 
 knowledge,  fuitabii.-  to  their  ages,  capacities,   nnd  pro-  • 
 fpeds,  and  efpecially  in  the  knowledge   of  what   will 
 make  them  ufeful  in  this  life,  and  fecure  the  happinefs 
 of  the  next. 
 
 There  is  no  one  advantage  in  any  other  conceivable 
 plan  of  education  which  may  not  be  gained  in  this,  nor 
 any  one  difad vantage  that  may  not  be  as  efFeclually 
 avoided  in   this  way  as  in  any.     It  there  is  any  thing 
 good  in  a  child,  it  may,  in  this  method  of  education,  be 
 improved  to  the  highell  pitch ;  if  there  is  any  thing  bad, 
 it  cannot  be  long  unknown,  and  may  be  remedied,  if  it 
 is  remediable;  if  a  child  has  a  bright  capacity,  there  is 
 emulation,   honour,   and  reward,  to  encourage  him  to 
 make  the  beft  of  it ;  and  if  his  faculties  be  low,  there 
 are  proper  methods  for  putting  him  upon  uling  his  ut- 
 moft  diligence ;  and  there  is  opportunity  to  give  him 
 private  aiUftance  at  bye-hours,   to  enable  him  to  keep 
 nearly  upon  a  footing  with  others  of  his  age.     In  fuch 
 a  place  of  education,  the  mailer  has  it  in  his  power,  by 
 affiduity  and  diligence,  to  make  the  higheft  improve- 
 ments upon  the  youth  under  his  care,   both  in  human 
 and  divine  knowledge;  and,  by  a  tender  and  afFedionate 
 treatment  of  them,  may  gain  the  love,  the  efteem,  and 
 the  obedience  due  to  a  parent  rather  than  a-  mafler.  . 
 Such  a  place  of  education  is  indeed  no  way  different 
 from  another  private  houfe,  only,  that  inftead  of  three 
 or  four,  or  half  a  dozen  children,   there  may  be  thirty 
 or  forty  in  family.     Inilead  of  an  indulgent  parent,  who 
 might  fondle  or  fpoil  the  y<^'ath,  there  is  at  the  head  of 
 fuch  an  economy,  an  impartial  and  prudent  governor, 
 "who,  not  being  biaffed  by  paternal  weaknefs,  is  likely 
 to  confult,  in  the  mod  diiinterefted  manner,  their  real 
 advantage,     tiaving  no  other  fcheme  in  his  head,  nor 
 any  thing  elfe  to  engage  his  thoughts,  he  is  at  liberty, 
 which  few  parents  are,  to  beftovv  his  whole  time   upon 
 the  improvement  of  the  youth  under  his  care.     Having 
 no  other  dependence  for  railing  himfelf  in  life,  he   is 
 likely  to  apply  himfelf  in  good  earned  to  do  whatever 
 he  can  for  the  advantage  of  the  youth,  and  his  own  re- 
 putation ;  as  knowing  that,  though  foundations,  exhi- 
 bitions, fellowlhips,  and  preferments,  will  always  draw 
 
 Dupils 
 
Of  K,2o-a:kdge.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  143 
 
 pupils  to  public  ichools  and  univeifities,  it  is  quite 
 othervviie  with  a  private  place  of  education,  which  mull 
 depend  wholly  upon  real  and  fubltantial  care  and  vifi- 
 ble  improvement  of  the  youth  ;  and  that  a  failure  of 
 thefe  mult  be  the  ruin  of  his  credit  and  fortune.  And 
 fuppoie  a  competent  fet  of  duly-qualified  teachers  em- 
 ployed in  fuch  a  place  of  education,  it  is  plain,  that 
 there  is  no  part  of  improvement  to  be  had  at  any  kind 
 offchool,  academy,  or  univerfity,  which  may  not  be 
 taken  in,  and  carried  to  the  utmoft  length,  the  pupils 
 are  capable  of,  according  to  their  age  and  natural 
 parts. 
 
 This  is  indeed,  in  the  main,  the  great  Mihoris  plan 
 of  a  place  of  education  to  carry  youth  from  grammar 
 quite  to  the  finifliing  their  of  ftudies  In  which  the  very 
 circumllance  of  a  perfon's  being  brought  up  under  the 
 fame  authority  from  childhood  to  mature  age,  is  of  in- 
 eftimable  advantage.  When  a  child  is  firll  put  to  a 
 lilly  old  woman  to  learn  to  read,  or  rather  murder  his 
 book,  what  a  number  of  bad  habits  does  he  acquire,  all 
 which  muft  afterwards  be  unlearned  ?  When  from 
 thence  he  is  removed  to  a  public,  or  boarding  fchool, 
 with  what  contempt  does  he  look  back  upon  his  poor  old 
 miftrefs,  and  how  faucily  does  he  talk  of  her  ?  The 
 cafe  is  the  fame,  when  he  is  removed  from  fchool  to 
 the  univerfity.  Then  my  young  mailer  thinks  biml'elf 
 a  man,  finds  himfeif  at  his  own  difpolal,  and  refolves 
 to  make  ufe  of  that  liberty,  which  no  perfon  ought  to 
 be  traded  with  before  years  of  difcretion.  And  the 
 confequences  are  generally  feen  to  anfwer  accordingly. 
 Bur  a  youth,  who  has  been  brought  up  from  childhood 
 to  ripe  age,  under  the  fame  perfon,  fuppoiing  him  pro- 
 perly qualified,  acquires  in  time  the  aff;2(5lion  and  the 
 fenfe  of  authority  of  a  fon  to  a  parent,  rather  than  of  a 
 pupil  to  a  mailer,  than  which  nothing  can  more,  or  fo 
 much  contribute  to  his  improvement  in  learning,  or  to 
 the  forming  of  his  manners. 
 
 Whether  there  are  not  fome  particulars  in  the  very 
 
 conftitution  and  plan  of  certain  places,  of  education,  that 
 
 may  be  faid  to  be  fundamentally  wrong,  I  iiiail  leave 
 
 3  to 
 
"144  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  0, 
 
 to  better  judginents,   after  fettilig  down  a  few  queries 
 on  the  fubjed. 
 
 Whether -the  moH;  perfe(5l  knowledge  of  two  dead 
 languages  is,  to  any  perfon  whatever,  let  his  views  in 
 life  be  what  they  will,  worth  the  expence  of  ten  years 
 i^udy,  to  the  exclufion  of  all  other  improvements  ? 
 
 Whether,  in  order  to  a  thorough  knowledge  of  Latin 
 and  Greek,  there  is  any  real  neccflity  for  learning  by 
 rote  a  number  of  crabbed  grammar  rules  ?  And  whe- 
 ther the  fame  method  which  is  commonly  ufed  in 
 teaching  French  and  Italian^  (in  which  it  is  notorious 
 that  people  do  adually  acquire  as  great,  or  rather  a 
 greater  maflery)  would  not  be  as  effectual,  and  incom- 
 parably more  compendious,  for  acquiring  a  fuScient 
 knowledge  of  Latin  ot  Greek?  I  mean,  only  learning 
 to  decline  nouns  and  verbs,  and  a  few  rules  of  conllruc- 
 tion,  and  then  reading  books  in  the  language. 
 
 Whether  the  fuperfluous  time,  bellowed  in  learning 
 grammar  rules,  would  not  be  much  better  employed  in 
 writing,  arithmetic,  elements  of  mathematics,  or  other 
 improvements  of  indifpenfabie  ufe  in  life  ?  efpeciaily  as 
 it  may  be  farther  alked. 
 
 Whether  the  negled:  of  the  firft  principles  of  thofe 
 valuable  parts  of  knowledge,  till  the  more  tradable 
 years  of  youth  are  pall  (all  for  the  lake  of  Latin  and 
 Greek),  is  not  in  experience  found  to  be  a  great  and 
 irreparable  lofs  to  thofe  who  have  been  educated  in 
 that  imperfed;  method  ?  And  whether  they  do  not  find 
 it  extremely  hard,  if  not  impollible,  in  after-life,  to  ac- 
 quire a  perfed  knowledge  of  w  hat  they  were  not  in 
 early  youth  fufficiently  grounded  in  ? 
 
 Whether  the  time  fpent  in  making  Z,fz///2  themes  and 
 verfes  is  not  wholly  thrown  away  ?  Whether  Knglijb 
 people  do  not  commonly  acquire  a  very  fufiicient  know- 
 ledge of  French  and  Italian^  without  ever  thinking  of 
 making  verfes  in  thofe  languages  ?  Whether  putting  a 
 youth,  not  yet  out  of  his  teens,  upon  compofition  of  any 
 kind,  is  at  all  reafonable  ?  Whether  it  is  not  requiring 
 him  to  produce  what,  from  his  unripe  age  and  unin- 
 formed judgment,  is  not  to  be  fuppofed  to  be  in  him,  I 
 mean,  thought :    Whether  the  proper  employment  of 
 
 thofe 
 
bfKnoi£.edge.)        HUMAN  NATURE,  145 
 
 thofe  tender  years  is  not  rather  planting,  than  reap- 
 ing? Whether  therefore  it  would  not  be  a  more  ufe- 
 ful  exercife  to  fet  a  youth  of  fifteen  to  tranflate,  para- 
 phrafe,  comment  upon,  or  make  abftrads  from  the 
 productions  of  mafterly  hands,  than  to  put  him  upon 
 producing  any  thing  of  his  own  ? 
 
 Wliether  any  knowledge  of  the  learned  languages, 
 befides  being  qualified  to  underftand  the  fenfe,  and  re- 
 lifli  the  beauties,  of  an  ancient  author,  be  of  any  ufe  ? 
 and  whether  the  making  of  themes  or  verfes  does  at  all 
 contributeto  that  end  ? 
 
 Whether,  in  a  feminary  of  learning,  where  fome 
 hundreds  of  youth  are  together,  it  is  by  any  human 
 means  polTible  to  prevent  their  corrupting  one  another, 
 undiftinguifhed,  and  undifcovered  ?  Whether  it  is  by 
 any  human  means  poflible  to  find  out  the  real  chorac- 
 ters,  the  laudable  or  faulty  turns  of  difpcfition  in  fucli 
 a  number  of  youth,  or  to  apply  particularly  to  the  cor- 
 re6lion  or  encouragement  of  each  faUit  or  weaknefs,  as 
 they  may  refpedlively  require*  ? 
 
 It  is  not  to  expeded  that  the  bufinefs  of  education 
 Ihould  go  on  to  purpofe,  unlefs  parents  refolve  to  allow 
 a  gentleman,  properly  qualified  for  the  important  tru(t 
 to  be  repofed  in  him,  fuch  an  income  as  may  be  fuffi- 
 cient  to  enable  him  to  carry  on  his  fcheme  without  un- 
 eafinel's  and  anxiety,  to  fupport  proper  affiftants,  and  to 
 furnilh  himfelf  with  books,  and  the  other  apparatus  ne- 
 celTary  for  the  improvement  of  the  youth  under  his 
 care. 
 
 L  There 
 
 *  Whoever  is  in  doubt  about  t!ie  fuhjtrrs  of  the  foregoing  queries,  may 
 read,  for  fettling  his  judgment,  the  foiioAing  Authors,  viz.  /ijr.  Lib.  I. 
 Sat.  X.  upon  tiie  ablurdity  of  making  verfes  in  a  foreign  language.  Mr. 
 Locke's  Treat,  or  Educat.  in  various  places,  partic'dariy  page  305,  on  thtf 
 abfurdity  of  putting  youth  upon  making  themes  and  verics.  Conxiley  upoa 
 that  of  fatiguing  them  with  a  needlefs  heap  of  gnnamar  t  ules.  To  which 
 add  the  authorities  of  ^ar.o.'ml  Faber,  Mr.  Clark,  Milton,  Caren^ij,  the  Gover- 
 nors of  the  Princes  of  the  Royal  blood  of  Trance,  Roger  Aj'cbam,  Efq.  Latm 
 preceptor  to  Queen  £//2;c^if^/:,  and  others  quoted  at  large  by  M.-  Ph.i.pSt 
 formerly  preceptor  to  his  Royal  Highnefs  the  Duke  o^  Cumberland,  in  his  Com- 
 pendious Method  of  teaching  languages,  printed  1750.  And  if  thefe  be  nofc 
 enough  to  condemn  the  laborious  trifling  commonly  ufed  in  certain  places 
 of  education,  let;  Mr.  Walker,  Addifon,  Pepi,  and  many  other  able  mcn^  wha 
 have  writ  on  ths  fubjeif,  be  confulted,  .  '" 
 
i4<r  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  ^ 
 
 There  is  no  danger  of  rewarding  too  well  the  perfoa 
 whofe  faithful  diligence  has,  by  the  Divine  bleffing, 
 made  your  fon  a  fcholar,  a  virtuous  man,  and  a  Chri- 
 llian.  That  the  gentlemen  who  employ,  or  rather  wear 
 themfelves  out,  in  the  laborious  work  of  the  education 
 of  youth,  do  but  too  generally  meet  with  narrow  and  un- 
 grateful returns,  is  evident  from  this  demonftration, 
 that  fo  few  of  them  are  ieen  to  reap  fuch  fruits  of  their 
 labours,  as  are  fufficient  to  put  them  in  ealy,  much  lefs 
 affluent  cireiimftances,  when  old  age  comes  upon  them, 
 while  fiddlers,  fingers,  players,  and  thofe  who  ferve  at 
 belt  only  to  amufe,  and  often  to  debauch  us,  wallow  in 
 wealth  and  luxury.  And  yet,  without  referve,  and  with-^ 
 out  difparagement,  be  it  fpoken,  there  is  not  a  more 
 valuable  member  of  fociety,  than  a  faithful  and  able 
 inftruclor  of  youth. 
 
 Nor  is  it  to  be  expelled  that  the  education  of  youth 
 fhould  facceed  properly,  if  parents  will  thwart  every 
 meafure  taken  by  a  prudent  mafter  for  the  advantage 
 of  a  child,  taking  him  home  from  time  to  time,  inter- 
 rupting the  course  of  his  lludies,  and  pampering  and 
 fondling  him  in  a  manner  incompatible  with  the  ceco- 
 nomy  of  a  place  of  education,  whereby  a  child  muft  be 
 led  to  conclude,  that  it  is  an  unhappinefs  to  be  obliged 
 to  be  at  fchool ;  that  it  is  doing  him  a  kindnefs  to  fetch 
 him  home,  to  keep  him  in  idlenefs,  to  feed  him  with  rich 
 food,  and  high  fauces,  and  to  allow  him  to  drink  wine, 
 and  to  keep  fuch  hours  for  eating  and  fleeping  as  are 
 unfuitable  to  his  age.  Did  parents  but  confider,  that  a 
 child's  happinefs  depends  not  at  all  upon  his  being  in- 
 dulged and  pampered  ;  but  upon  having  his  mind  eafy, 
 without  hankering  after  what  he  does  not  know,  and 
 will  never  think  of,  if  not  put  in  his  head  by  their  im- 
 proper management  of  him  ;  and  that  the  more  he  is 
 humoured  in  his  childifh  follies,  the  more  wants,  and, 
 confequently,  the  more  uneafinefles  he  will  have  ;  did 
 parents,  I  lay,  confider  this,  they  would  not  give  them- 
 felves and  their  children  the  trouble  they  do,  only  to 
 ^ake  both  unhappy. 
 
 I  have  heard  of  a  mother,  who  humoured  her  fon  to 
 that  pitch  of  folly,  that,  upon  his  taking  it  into  his  head, 
 
 Uiat 
 
Of  Knowledge.  J         HUMAN  NATURE.  i4f 
 
 that  it  would  be  pretty  ,to  ride  upon  a  cold  Turloin  of 
 beef,  which  was  brought  to  table,  fhe  gravely  ordered 
 the  fervant  to  pat  a  napkin  upon  it,  and  fet  him  aftride 
 in  the  difh,  that  he  might  have  his  fancy.  And  of 
 another,  who  begged  her  little  daughter's  nurfe  to  take 
 care,  of  all  things,  that  the  child  fliould  not  fee  tliQ 
 moon,  left  Ihe  fhould  cry  for  it. 
 
 If  parents  will,  iri  this  manner,  make  it  a  point, 
 never,  even  in  the  moft  neceflary  cafes,  to  oppofe  the 
 wayward  wills  of  infants,  what  can  they  expect,  but 
 that  peevilhnefs  and  perverfenefs  fhould  grow  upoa 
 them  to  a  degree,  that  muft  make  them  unhappy  oa 
 every  occafion,  when  they  meet  with  proper  treatment 
 from  more  reafonable  people  ?  The  youth,  who,  at  his 
 father's  table,  has  been  ufed  to  eat  of  a  variety  of  difhes 
 every  day,  than  which  nothing  is  more  pernicious  to 
 any  conftitution,  old  or  young,  will  think  himfelf  mifer- 
 ablcj  when  he  comes  to  the  fitnple  and  regulated  diet 
 of  a  boarding-fchool ;  though  this  laft  is  much  more 
 conducive  to  hsalth.  He,  who  has  been  ufed  to  do 
 whatever  he  pleafed  at  home,  will  think  it  very  grievous 
 to  be  controuled,  when  he  comes  to  a  place  of  educa- 
 tion. The  confequence  of  which  will  be,  that  his  com- 
 plaints will  be  innumerable,  as  his  imaginary  griev- 
 ances. Where  the  truth  will  not  feera  a  fufficient  found-^ 
 ation  for  complaining,  lies  and  inventions  will  be  called 
 in  ;  for  youth  have  very  little  principle.  They  will  be 
 liftened  to  by  the  fond  parent.  The  number  of  then! 
 will  increafe,  upon  their  meeting  encouragement.  Thd 
 education  of  the  child,  and  his  very  morals,  will  in  this 
 manner  be  hurt,  if  not  ruined.  This  is  not  theory ; 
 but  experienced  and  notorious  fact.  The  weaknefs  of 
 parents  in  this  refped  does,  indeed,  exceed  belief.  And 
 unhappily,  the  bell  people  are  often  moft  given  to  this 
 weaknefs,  having  minds  the  moft  fulceptiblc  of  tender- 
 nefs  and  affection,  and  of  the  moft  eafy  credulity.  This 
 weaknefs  appears  in  all  fhapes,  and  produces  all  kinds 
 of  bad  effeds.  It  is  the  caufe  of  parents  overlooking 
 the  moft  dangerous  and  fatal  turns  of  mind  in  their 
 children,  till  the  feafon  for  correding  them  be  paft ;  of 
 indulging  them  in  the  very  things  they  ought  to  be  re- 
 
 L  z  fti'ain^d 
 
S^%  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Ibok  M; 
 
 iftrained  in ;  of  their  hating  thofe  who  endeavour  to 
 open  their  eyes  to  the  faults  of  their  children  ;  of 
 liltening  to  their  groundlefs  complaints  againil  their 
 mailers ;  of  reftraining  and  hampering  them  in  the 
 difcharge  of  their  duty  to  their  children  ;  and  of  un- 
 gratefully imputing  to  the  mailer's  want  of  care  the 
 failure  of  their  children's  improvement  in  what  nature  * 
 has  denied  them  capacities  for ;  at  the  fame  time,  that 
 they  know  other  youths  have  made  proper  improve- 
 ments under  the  fame  care ;  and  cannot  with  any  co- 
 lour of  reafon  fuppofe  a  prudent  mailer  fo  much  his 
 own  enemy,  as  to  negied:  one  pupil,  and  ufe  diligence 
 with  another. 
 
 SECT.     III. 
 
 Frocefs  of  Education  from  four  Tears  of  Age,  to  the 
 fintjbing  of  the  Puerile  Studies  and  Exercifes, 
 
 'R.OM  the  age  of  four  to  fix,  a  healthy  child,  of 
 good  capacity,  may  learn  to  read  EngliJJj  diftinrlly, 
 according  to  the  fpelling  and  points.  The  propriety 
 of  emphafis  and  cadence  mud  not  be  expeded  at  fo 
 early  an  age.  Within  this  period  likewife,  he  may  be 
 introduced  into  the  rudiments  of  Latin,  and  may  learn 
 to  decline  by  memory  a  fet  of  examples  of  all  the  de- 
 clinable parts  of  fpeech. 
 
 If  I  did  not  think  fome  knowledge  in  the  Latin  lan- 
 guage abfolutely  necefiary  to  any  perfon,  whofe  ilation 
 raifes  him  above  the  rank  of  a  working  mechanic,  I 
 fliould  not  recommend  it.  Notwithftanding  what  has 
 been  faid  by  many  againft  the  neceffity  of  any  know- 
 ledge of  Latin,  I  muft  own,  I  cannot  fee  that  an  Englijh 
 education  can  be  begun  upon  any  other  foundation. 
 Without  grammar,  there  can  be  no  regular  education. 
 And  the  grammar  of  one  language  may  as  well  be 
 learned  as  of  another,  the  fcience  being  in  the  main  the 
 fame  in  all.  It  is  very  v/ell  known,  that  moil  of  the  Eu- 
 Topean  languages  are  more  Latin  than  any  thing  elfe. 
 And  what  more  thorough  method  is  there  of  letting  a 
 perfon  into  the  fpirit  of  a  language,  than  by  making 
 
 him 
 
Of  Knowledge.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  t4^ 
 
 him  early  acquainted  with  the  original  roots,  from 
 whence  it  is  derived  ?  As  great  part  of  the  Latin  arifes 
 from  the  Greek,  fome  judicious  perfons  have  thought  it 
 beft  to  begin  with  that  language. 
 
 Upon  the  whole,  one  would  think,  no  parent  fhould 
 wiQi  his  fon  brought  up  in  fo  defective  a  manner,  as  to 
 be  at  a  (land  at  a  Latin  phrafe  in  an  Englijf)  book,  or  a 
 faying  of  an  ancient  author  mentioned  in  converfation, 
 which'  mud  be  very  often  met  with  by  any  man  who 
 reads  at  all,  or  keeps  company  above  the  very  loweft 
 ranks  of  life. 
 
 From  the  age  of  fix  to  eight,  his  reading  may  be  con- 
 tinued and  improved,  his  principles  of  Latin  reviewed 
 from  time  to  time,  and  he  may  be  employed  in  reading 
 fuch  eafy  books  as  Corderius,  and  fome  of  Erafuiiis'^ 
 Colloquies  with  an  Enjlipj  Tranflation« 
 
 About  this  age  iikewife,  children  may  be  taught  to 
 read  a  little  Frenchy  a  language  which  no  gentleman, 
 or  man  of  bufinefs,  can  be  without.  After  they  have 
 gone  through  Boyer^  Grammar,  and  learned  by  me- 
 mory a  fet  of  examples  of  verbs  regular  and  irregular, 
 and  common  phrafes,  they  may  read  a  little  collediom 
 lately  publifhed,  called,  R.€ciieil  des  auteus  Frangois, 
 printed  at  Edinburgh.  Les  avanttires  de  Gil  Bias,  Le 
 diahle  boiteux,  Les  avantiires  de  Telemaqi/e,  Les  comedies 
 de  MoUere,  and  Les  tragedies  de  Racine,  are  propei:' 
 books  for  youth  to  read  for  their  improvement  in  French. 
 They  mud  Iikewife  pradife  tranllating  mlo  French,  and 
 fpeaking  the  language. 
 
 From  eight  to  twelve  years  of  age,  they  may  be  em- 
 ployed in  the  fame  manner,  and  may  belides  be  intro- 
 duced to  fuch  Latin  authors  as  Jujtin,  Cornelius  Nepos 
 Eutropius,  Pbccdrus,  and  the  like.  There  is  a  pretty 
 Collection  lately  publilhed,  entituled,  Seledla  Lutini 
 Sermonis  Exemplar ia,  8ic,  very  proper  for  the  lower 
 claffes.  Ovid  is  an  author  ufually  put  into  the  hands 
 of  youth  about  this  age.  But  for  my  part,  I  do  not 
 think  any  thing  of  his,  befides  his  Fajli,  at  alf  fit  for 
 the  young  and  unprincipled  mind.  His  obfcenities, 
 and  indecencies  will,  I  hope,  be  readily  given  up.  And 
 the  bulk  of  his  other   writings  are  either  overdrained 
 
 L  3  witticifms^ 
 
<5^  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  U, 
 
 witticifms,  bombaftic  rants,  or  improbable  and  mon-» 
 llroiis  fidions ;  none  of  which  feem  proper  for  laying  a 
 good  foundation  in  the  young  mind  for  raifing  a  fuper- 
 ilruclure  of  true  tafte  ;  rational  goodnefs  ;  and  a  fteady 
 love  of  truth. 
 
 From  twelve  years  of  age  to  fixteen  or  eighteen,  that 
 is,  to  the  finifliing  of  the  education,  properly  fo  called  ; 
 for  a  wife  man  never  finiflies  his  inquiries  and  improve- 
 inents,  till  life  itfelf  be  finidied ;  in  the  beginning  of 
 this  period,  I  fay,  befides  carrying  on  and  improving 
 the  above,  a  youth  ought  (and  not  much  before,  ac- 
 cording to  my  judgment)  to  be  entered  into  writing, 
 and  foon  after  into  arithmetic,  and  then  to  read  a  little 
 of  the  elements  of  geometry.  Writing  requires  fome 
 degree  of  ftrength  of  mufcle,  and  of  fight;  and  num- 
 bers and  the  f^lements  of  geometry,  fome  ripenefs  of 
 judgment,  which  are  not  to  be  found  in  the  generality 
 of  youth  before  twelve  years  of  age. 
 
 The  negledling  too  long  the  firft  principles  of  geo- 
 rnetry,  and  the  knowledge  of  numbers,  is  found  in  ex- 
 perience to  be  very  prejudicial ;  as  a  perfon,  whofe 
 mind  corpes  once  to  be  full  of  various  ideas,  and  eager 
 after  different  purfuits,  as  thofe  of  mod  people  are  by 
 lixteen  or  eighteen,  can  hardly  by  any  means  bring 
 himfelf  to  apply  to  any  new  branch  of  knowledge,  of 
 which  he  has  not  had,  in  the  young  and  tradable  years 
 of  life,  fome  principles.  Mathematics,  to  one  who  has 
 had  no  tindure  of  that  fort  of  knowledge  infufed  into 
 his  mind  in  youth,  will  be  a  mere  terra  incognita  ;  and 
 therefore  too  difagreeable  and  irkfome  to  be  ever  pur- 
 fued  by  him  with  any  confiderabie  fuccefs.  The  cafe 
 is  by  experience  found  to  be  the  fame  with  refped  to 
 languages,  and  every  other  complex  or  extenfive  branch 
 of  knowledge ;  which  gave  occafion  to  the  great  Mr. 
 Locke  to  obferve,  that  "  the  taking  a  tafte  of  every  fort 
 **  of  knowledge  is  necefTary  to  form  the  mind,  and  is 
 **  the  only  way  to  give  the  underftanding  its  due  im- 
 *'  provement  to  the  full  extent  of  its  capacity." 
 
 Proper  books  for  learning  the  knowledge  of  numbers 
 ^re  Fi/ber'Sf   Wingate's,  HilVsy  or  Wells's  Arithmetic, 
 
Of  Kmnoleclge.)         HUMAN  N ATURE.  t^t 
 
 VoT  the  elements  of  geometry  fome  think  Pardie^s  an 
 eafy  introdudion.  But  his  demonftrations,  not  being 
 always  unqueftionable,  I  cannot  recommend  it.  S'nnp- 
 foTi's  geometry  is  a  very  elegant  compend.  But  Cnnn's 
 or  Simpfoii's  Euclid  is  the  beft  book  for  a  young 
 beginner.  Of  the  higher  parts  of  mathematics  i  fliall 
 fpeak  afterwards. 
 
 About  the  age  of  twelve  it  will  be  proper  for  a  youth 
 to  enter  on  the  Greek  language.  From  the  fmall  Weji- 
 minjier  Grammar  (which  is  as  good  as  any)  he  may  go 
 on  to  read  the  New-Teitament,  and  from  thence  to  fun- 
 dry  ColkclioHSf  and  Ifocrates,  or  BtmoJlheneSy  Plato, 
 and  Homer.. 
 
 I  know  no  occafion  a  youth  can  have  to  be  obliged 
 to  get  any  thing  by  memory  in  learned  or  foreign  lan- 
 guages, except  the  declenfions  of  a  let  of  examples,  a 
 few  phrafes,  and  rules  of  conftru^iion,  which  lad  may 
 be  learned  in  Etigli/Jy.  The  memory  may  be,  la  much 
 greater  advantage,  furniilied  with  what  may  be  of  real 
 ufc  in  life,  than  with  crabbed  grammar  rules,  or  with 
 heaps  of  Lati?i  or  Greek  verfe.  As  to  making  La- 
 tin or  Greek  themes  or  verfes,  I  would  as  foon  have 
 a  fon  of  aiin£  taught  to  dance  on  a  rope.  But  of  this 
 enough. 
 
 From  the  Latin  authors  above-mentioned  a  youth  of 
 parts,  may,  about  fourteen  and  fifteen,  and  onwards, 
 be  advanced  to  Virgil,  Salhijl,  Terence^  Livy,  Tully,  with, 
 feled:  parts  of  Horace  (for  many  parts  of  that  author 
 ought  not  to.  be  in  printj,  and  fo  on  to  Tacitus,  Jiraenal, 
 and  Perfius..  : 
 
 One  of  the  beft  fchool^books  extant  is  a  fmall  collec- 
 tion lately  publiilied,  printed  for  L.  Halves^  in  Pater- 
 noJler-rqWy  which  I  could  wi(h  enlarged  to  the  extent 
 of  a  volume  or  two  more,  colleft^d  with  equal  judg- 
 ment. It  is  entitled,  Sele^la:  ex  profanis  J'criptoribus 
 hijiorics.  This  may  be  read  by  youth  from  ten  years  of 
 age  and  upwards  ;  and  would  be  very  proper  to  make 
 tranllations  from,  for  improving  them  at  once  in  ortho-, 
 graphy,  in  writing,  in  ftyle,  and  fentiment.  If  they 
 were  to  fpeak  fuch  verfions,  corrected  by  the  mailer,  by 
 way  of  orations,  before  their  parents,  1  ihould  think  the 
 
 L  4 
 
j^Z  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  II 
 
 end  of  improving  their  elocution,  and  giving  them 
 couras:e  to  fpeak  in  public,  might  be  thereby  much 
 better  attained,  than  by  their  being  taught  either  to  a€l 
 plays  in  a  dead  language,  or  to  rant  in  a  theatrical  man- 
 ner EiigUp}  tragedies.  To  fpeak  a  grave  fpeech  with 
 proper  grace  and  dignity  may  be  of  ufe  in  real  life. 
 The  rant  of  the  ftage  can  never  be  ufed  ciF  the  ilage. 
 And  pradifing  it  in  youth  has  often  produced  very  bad, 
 efteds. 
 
 I  know  no  neceffity  for  a  youth's  going  through  every 
 clafFic  author  he  reads.  There  are  parts  in  all  book^ 
 lefs  entertaining  than  others.  And  perhaps  it  might 
 ■  have  a  good  effefl  to  leave  off  fometimes  where  the  pu- 
 pil lliews  a  defire  to  go  on,  rather  than  fully  fatiate  his 
 curiofity. 
 
 When  youth  come  to  read  Horace^  Livyy  and  fuch 
 authors,  they  may  be  fuppofed  capable  of  entering  a 
 little  into  the  critical  beauties  of  the  ancients,  and  of 
 ■writing  in  general.  It  will  be  of  great  confequence, 
 that  they  be  early  put  in  the  right  way  of  thinking  with 
 refpeci  to  the  real  merit  o/the  ancients,  their  excellen- 
 ces, which  may  properly  be  imitated,  their  faults  to 
 be  avoided,  and  deficiences  to  be  fupplied.  Of  which 
 more  fully  afterwards. 
 
 Papers  Effay  on  criticifm  may  with  fuccefs  be  com- 
 mented upon.  From  which,  as  it  takes  in  the  princi- 
 pal rules  laid  dov»'n  and  obfervations  made  by  the  wri- 
 ters before  him,  as  well  as  his  own,  may  be  drawn  a 
 general  view  of  the  requilites  for  a  well-vrritten  piece. 
 The  principles  of  this  knowledge,  early  planted  in  the 
 mind,  would  be  of  great  ufe  in  leading  people  to  form 
 their  tafte  by  fome  clear  and  certain  rules  drawn  from 
 nature  and  reafon,  which  might  prevent  their  praifing 
 and  blaming  in  the  wrong  place  ;  their  miliaking  noify 
 bombafl  for  the  true  fublime ;  a  flyle  holding  forth 
 more  than  is  expreiTed,  for  the  dull  and  unanimated ; 
 bignefs,  for  greatnefs  ;  whining  for  the  pathetic  ;  bully- 
 ing for  the  heroic  ;  oddity  for  terror  ;  the  barbarous  for 
 the  tragical ;  farce  for  comedy  ;  quaint  conceit,  pert 
 icurrilityp  or  affeded  cant,  for  true  wit  j  and  fo  forth. 
 
 Tha 
 
OJKnoHuledge.)       HUMAN  NATURE.  155 
 
 The  beauty  and  advantage  of  method  ;  the  force  of  ex- 
 preffion  fuited  to  the  thought ;  the  caufes  of  perfpicuity 
 or  confulion,  in  a  writer,  the  peculiar  delicacy  in  the 
 turn  of  a  phrafe  ;  the  importance,  or  infigniiicancy,  of 
 a  thought ;  the  aptnefs  of  a  fimile  ;  the  mufic  of  cadence 
 in  prole,  and  meafare  in  verfe  \  the  livelinefs  of  defcrip- 
 tion  ;  the  brightnefs  of  imagery ;  the  diftindtion  of 
 charadlers ;  the  pomp  of  machinery  ;  the  greatnefs  of 
 invention  ;  the  corrednefs  of  judgment ;  and  I  know 
 not  how  many  more  particulars,  might  with  fuccefs  be 
 enlarged  upon  in  teaching  youth  about  fifteen  years  of 
 age,  and  upwards. 
 
 When  a  youth  has  acquired  a  readinefs  at  writing 
 and  numbers,  he  may  learn  the  beautiful  and  ufeful  art 
 of  book-keeping  according  to  the  Italian  method. 
 Though  this  piece  of  knowledge  is  more  immediately 
 ufeful  for  traders,  it  ought  not  to  be  neglected  by  any 
 perfon  whatever.  Many  an  eftate  might  have  been 
 laved,  had  the  owner  of  it  known  how  to  keep  corred 
 accounts  of  his  income  and  expences.  Were  there  only 
 the  beauty  and  elegance  of  this  art  to  recommend  it,  no 
 wife  parent  would  let  his  fop  be  without  what  may  be 
 fo  eafily  acquired.  The  belt  fyftem  of  book-keeping, 
 and  the  briefeft,  is  Wehfter's, 
 
 About  fourteen  or  fifteen  years  of  age  a  youth  of 
 parts  may  be  inftrudled  in  the  ufe  of  the  globes,  which 
 will  require  his  having  the  terms  in  geography,  and 
 many  of  thofe  ufed  in  aftronomy,  explained  to  him. 
 To  this  may  be  joined  an  abridgment  of  the  ancient 
 and  prefent  ftate  of  nations,  commonly  called  ancient 
 and  modern  geography.  The  belt  books  on  the  ufe  of 
 the  globes  are  Harr'n^s  and  RandaVs  Geography,  or 
 Gordon's  Geographical  grammar ;  which,  with  Huh- 
 ner's  Corapend,  and  Wells's  Geographia  Clafica,  will  be 
 iufficient  to  introduce  the  pupil  to  a  general  notion  of 
 ancient  and  modern  geography.  A  fet  of  maps  ought 
 to  be  turned  to,  and  the  pupil  taught  to  underlland  the 
 manner  of  conftrucling  and  ufing  them. 
 
 The  knowledge  of  the  furface  of  our  globe,  and  the 
 prefent  itate  of  nations,  is  neceffary  and  ufeful  for  men 
 
 of" 
 
»54  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Boole  11. 
 
 ©fall  ranks,  orders,  and  profeflions.  The  flatefman  can 
 have  no  diftindl  ideas  of  the  intereft  and  connedions  of 
 foreign  nations ;  the  divine  no  clear  conception  of 
 Scripture  or  ecclefiaftical  hiftory,  nor  the  merchant  of 
 the  voyages  his  fhips  are  to  make,  the  feats  of  com- 
 merce, and  means  of  coUecling  its  various  articles  ;  nor 
 indeed  the  private  gentleman  bear  a  part  in  common 
 converfation,  without  underftanding  the  fituations,  difr 
 tances,  extent,  and  general  Hate  of  kingdoms  and  em- 
 pires. In  a  word,  he,  who  does  not  know  geography, 
 does  not  know  the  world.  And  it  is  miferable,  that  a 
 gentleman  (hould  know  nothing  of  the  world  he  lives 
 in,  but  the  fpot,  in  which  he  was  born. 
 
 Algebra  is  a  fcience  of  admirable  ufe  in  folving  quef- 
 tions  fecmingly  inexplicable.  I  would  advife  that  every 
 youth,  of  fortune  and  parts  have  a  tindlure  of  it  about 
 this  period  of  life.  HammoniTsy  Simp/on' s^  and  Maclau- 
 rin\  treatifes  axe  proper  to  be  made  ufe  of  in  teachr 
 ing  it. 
 
 About  the  fame  age,  youth  may  be  let  into  a  general 
 knowledge  of  chronology,  or  of  the  principal  seras  and 
 periods  of  the  world,  and  of  the  outlines  of  univerfal 
 hiftory.  This  cannot  be  better  done,  than  by  reading 
 them  ledlures  upon  the  Chart  of  the  univerial  hiftory, 
 lately  publiftied,  ftiewing  them,  at  the  fame  time,  upon 
 the  terreftrial  globe,  and  in  maps,  the  fituation  and  ex- 
 tent of  kingdoms  and  empires.  The  chronological  tables 
 in  the  twenty-firft  volume  of  the  Univerfal  Hiftory  may 
 be  confulted  by  thofe  who  would  defcend  to  more  mi- 
 nute particulars  in  teaching  youth  the  knowledge  of 
 chronology. 
 
 About  the  age  of  fixteen  or  eighteen,  a  youth  of  good 
 parts  may  learn  juft  fo  much  of  logic  as  may  be  ufe- 
 ful  for  leading  him  to  an  accurate  and  correct  manner 
 of  thinking,  and  judging  of  fuch  truths  as  are  not  capa- 
 ble of  mathematical  demonftration.  Thp  Arijio- 
 telian  method  of  reafoning  in  mood  and  figure  might 
 be  proper,  if  the  ideas  we  affix  to  all  words  were  as. 
 precife  as  thofe  of  a  right  line,  a  furface,  or  a  cube. 
 But  fo  long  as  we  neither  have  in  our  own  minds  at  all 
 times,  nor  much  lefs  can  communicate  to  thofe  we  con- 
 
 verfe 
 
OfKnowUge.)       HUMAN  NATURE.  .  isf 
 
 verfe  with,  the  fame  invariable  ideas  to  the  fame  words, 
 we  muft  be  content,  if  we  mean  either  to  receive  or 
 communicate  knowledge,  to  recede  a  little  from  the 
 rigid  rules  of  logic,  laid  down  by  the  Burger/dykes  and 
 the  Scbeibkrsy  which  always  hamper,  and  often  miflead, 
 the  underftanding. 
 
 For  the  purpofe  of  putting  young  perfons  in  the  way: 
 of  reafoning  juftly,  Dr.  Watts'' s  Logic  may  with  fuccefs 
 be  read  and  commented  on  to  them,  and  fome  of  the 
 ealieft  and  moft  fundamental  parts  of  Mr.  Locked  EiTay 
 on  human  underftanding.  After  which  fome  parts  of 
 the  writings  of  fome  of  the  clofeft  reafoners  in  morals 
 may  be  examined,  and  the  force  of  the  arguments 
 Ihewn,  to  lead  the  pupil  to  the  imitation  of  their  man- 
 ner. Such  writers  as  Dr.  Clarke^  WooUaJioii,  and  Bifhop. 
 Butler,  author  of  the  Analogy,  will  be  proper  for  this 
 purpofe.  It  may  alfo  be  ufeful  to  (hew  how  fubtle  men 
 imperceptibly  deviate  from  found  reafon,  and  lead  their 
 readers  into  fallacies.  The  works  of  Hobbes^  Alorgan, 
 and  Hebrew  Hutchinfon,  may,  among  innumerable 
 others,  be  proper  examples  to  fhew,  that  the  femblancQ 
 pf  reafon  may  be,  where  there  is  no  fubftance. 
 
 It  would  be  of  great  advantage  to  youth,  if  they 
 could,  as  a  part  of  their  education,  have  an  opportunity 
 of  feeing  a  courfe  of  experiments,  at  firft  exhibited  by 
 Defaguliers^  Whijlon,  and  others.  They  would  there 
 learn,  in  the  moft  entertaining  and  eafy  manner,  the 
 grounds,  as  far  as  known,  of  the  noble  fcience  of  phy- 
 liology.  And  in  feeing  a  regular  feries  of  experiments, 
 and  obfervations,  in  mechanics,  hydroftatics,  pneuma- 
 tics, optics,  aftronomy,  chemiftry,  and  the  like,  would 
 have  their  curiofity  raifed  to  the  higheft  pitch,  and 
 would  acquire  a  tafte  for  knowledge,  which  might  not 
 only  lead  them,  in  after-life,  to  purfue  their  own  im- 
 provement in  the  moft  valuable  ways,  but  likewife 
 might,  by  furnifhing  an  inexhauftible  fund  of  enter- 
 tainment, fupply  the  continual  want  of  taverns,  plays, 
 mufic,  or  other  lefs  innocent  amufements,  to  fill  up  their 
 vacant  hours.  For  it  is  only  the  want  of  fomething 
 within  themfeves,  to  entertain  them,  that  drives  people 
 to  routs,  rackets,  or  mafquerades,  to  the  fatal  wafte  of 
 
 time 
 
#5<S  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  11. 
 
 time  and  money,  and  the  utter  perverlion  of  the  true 
 tatte  of  Jife. 
 
 A  perfon  who  underftands  this  kind  of  knowledge, 
 with  the  help  of  a  very  few  inflruments,  as  a  telefcope, 
 a  microfcope,  an  air  pump,  and  a  pair  of  Mr.  Neal's  pa- 
 tent globes,  may  go  through  the  grounds  of  this  fort  of 
 knowledge,  following  the  method  given  by  Mr.  Martin 
 in  his  philofophical  grammar  (guarding  againft  his  er- 
 rors) to  the  great  entertainment  and  improvement  of  a 
 fet  of  pupils. 
 
 Dancing,  fencing,  riding,  mufic,  drawing,  and  other 
 elegant  arts  and  manly  exercifes,  may,  according  to  the 
 circumliances  of  parents,  and  genius  of  children,  be  car- 
 ried greater  or  fhorter  lengths.  For  a  perfon,  whofe 
 education  has  fitted  him  for  being  a  ufeful  member  of 
 fociety,  according  to  his  ftation,  and  for  happinefs  in  a 
 future  ftate,  may  be  faid  to  have  been  well  brought  up, 
 though  he  (liould  not  excel  in  thcfe  elegancies.  And  it 
 is  not  fuch  frivolous  accomplifhments  as  thefe  that  will 
 make  a  man  valuable,  who  has  not  a  mind  endowed 
 with  wifdom  and  virtue.  Above  all  things,  to  make 
 the  mere  ornaments  of  life,  the  employment  of  life,  is 
 to  the  lad  degree  prepofterous. 
 
 It  is  evidently  of  advantage,  that  a  young  gentleman 
 be,  from  his  infancy  almoft,  put  into  the  way  of  wield- 
 ing his  limbs  decently,  and  coming  into  a  room  like  a 
 human  creature.  But  I  really  think  it  more  eligible, 
 that  a  youth  be  a  little  bafliful  and  awkward,  than  that 
 he  have  too  much  of  the  player  or  dancing-mafter. 
 Care  ought  therefore  to  be  taken,  that  he  do  not  learn 
 tp  dance  too  well.  The  confequence  will  probably  be, 
 that,  being  commended  for  it,  he  will  take  all  opportu- 
 nities of  exhibiting  his  performance,  and  will  in  time 
 become  a  hunter  after  balls,  and  a  mere  dangler  among' 
 the  ladies. 
 
 The  fame  caution  ought  to  be  ufed  with  refped  to 
 mufic.  It  is  true,  there  are  very  few  of  the  good  peo- 
 ple of  England,  who  have  fo  much  true  tafte,  as  to  be 
 capable  of  excelling  in  that  alluring  and  bewitching  art. 
 But  there  are  inflances  of  the  bad  effeds  of  cultivating 
 it  too  much. 
 
OJ  Knowledge.)       HUMAN  NATURE.  is% 
 
 So  much  of  the  riding-ichooi  as  is  ufeful  and  necef- 
 fary,  there  is  nothing  to  be  faid  agauilt  ii.  But  it  is 
 deplorable  to  fee  many  ci  our  gentry  lludy  the  liberal 
 fcience  of  jockeyfhip  to  the  negled:  of  all  the  reft. 
 
 Fencing,  if  pradtifed  to  fuch  a  degree  as  to  excel  at 
 it,  is  the  likelieft  means  that  can  be  contrived  for  get- 
 ting a  man  into  quarrels.  And  I  fee  not,  that  the  run- 
 ning a  fellow-creature  through  the  body,  or  having  that 
 operation  performed  upon  one's  felf,ismuch  the  more  de- 
 firable  for  its  being  done  fecundum  artem.  Yet  whoever 
 wears  a  fword,  ought  to  know  fomewhat  of  the  art  of 
 handling  it. 
 
 Drawing  is  an  ingenious  accompliftiment,  and  does 
 not  lead  directly  to  any  vice  that  I  know  of.  It  may 
 even  be  put  upon  the  jQime  foot  with  with  a  tafte  for 
 reading,  as  a  fober  amufement,  which  may  lead  a  young 
 gentleman  to  love  home  and  regular  hours.  But  it  is 
 far  from  being  friendly  to  the  conftitution.  Like  all 
 fedentary  employments  which  engage  the  attention, 
 it  is  prejudicial  to  the  health,  efpecially  where  oil- 
 colours  are  ufed,  which  is  not  indeed  a  necefTary 
 part  in  drawing.  It  like  wife  fixes  and  ft  rains  the 
 eyes,  and,  in  fmall  v/ork,  fatigues  them  too  much  to 
 be  purfued  to  any  great  length  with  fafety.  At  the 
 fame  time,  to  know  perfpedlive,  and  tlie  other  princi- 
 ples of  the  art,  and  to  have  fuch  a  command  of  the 
 pencil,  as  to  be  capable  of  ftriking  out  a  draught  of  an 
 objedl:,  or  view,  not  fo  much  with  delicacy  as  with 
 ftrength,  fwiftnefs,  and  fluency,  is  an  accompliftiment 
 very  ornamental,  and  often  ufeful. 
 
 I  will  conclude  this  fedion  with  the  following  re- 
 mark, That  there  is  this  difterence  between  the  con- 
 duel  of  education,  and  the  imprcement  of  the  mind 
 afterwards,  that  in  educatior.,  the  view  being  to  open 
 the  mind  to  all  kinds  of  knowledge,  there  is  no  abfur- 
 dity  in  carrying  on  feveral  ftudies  together,  nor  in  pafs- 
 ing  from  one  to  another,  before  the  pupil  arrives  at  great 
 perfedtion  in  the  firft ;  on  the  contrary,,  in  maturity, 
 the  view  being  not  to  learn  the  ftrft  principles  (which 
 are  fuppofed  to  have  been  ftudied  in  youth)  but  to  ac- 
 quire a  perfed  knowledge  of  fubjcds^  it;  is  then  impro- 
 
 3  pei- 
 
f^n  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  11. 
 
 per  to  purfue  many  different  lludies  at  once,  or  to  give 
 over  one,  and  proceed  to  another,  till  one  has  carried 
 the  former  a  competent  length. 
 
 SECT.    IV. 
 
 Of  manly  Studies.  Of  a  Method  of  acquiring  a  compe- 
 tent Knowledge  of  the  Sciences^  Of  proper  Books  and 
 Apparatus  % 
 
 BEFORE  a  young  gentleman  fets  about  any  parti- 
 cular ftudy,  fuppofing  his  puerile  education  finifh- 
 ed,  he  may  prepare  himfelf  for  more  manly  improve- 
 ments, by  a  careful  perufal  of  the  following  books,  M^hich 
 will  give  him  a  general  view  or  map  of  fcience,  viz. 
 The  Preface  to  Chambers^ s  Dictionary.  Clarke  Me- 
 thod of  Study.  BofweVs  Method  of  Study.  Lockers 
 Condud:  of  Human  Underftanding.  Watts's  Improve- 
 ment of  the  Mind.  Baker^s  Refledtions  on  Learning, 
 an  ingenious  work,  except  upon  the  fubjeCts  of  Aftro- 
 iiomy  and  Philofophy,  where  the  author  has  bewilder- 
 ed himfelf  miferably).  Wootton''s  Refledions  on  ancient 
 and  modern  Learning.     Rollhi's  Belles  Lettres. 
 
 Nothing  will  be  of  more  confequence  towards  the 
 fuccefs  of  a  young  gentleman's  endeavours  for  his  own 
 improvement,  than  his  getting  early  into  a  right  track 
 of  reading  and  ftudy  :  For  by  that  means  he  will  fave 
 infinite  trouble,  which  many  go  through  by  beginning; 
 at  the  wrong  end ;  who,  after  diftreffing  theml'elves  in 
 purfuing  what  they  have  not  the  neceffary  accomplifh- 
 ments  for,  find  themfelves  obliged  to  give  up  what  they 
 had  undertaken,  and  go  back  to  firft  principles.  Men 
 thus  fufter  great  lofs  of  time  and  labour ;  meet  with 
 difcouragement  in  their  ftudies ;  and  the  fi;ru6lure  of 
 learning  which  they  raife,  proves  in  the  end  but  a  piece 
 of  patch-work.  Others,  by  being  at  firft  put  upon  a 
 wrong  courfe  of  reading,  find  themfelves  plunged  into 
 myftery,  fanaticifm,  or  error  of  one  kind  or  other  ;  out 
 of  which  it  Gofts  them  many  years  to  extricate  ihem- 
 felves.  Others,  attaching  themfelves  too  early  and  too 
 clofely  to  one  narrow  track,  as  pure  mathematics,  ot 
 poetry,  cramp  their  minds  in  their  youth  ;  or,  by  giv- 
 ing too  great  a  loofe  to  fancy,  unfit  them  for  expatia- 
 
tjfKtwwledge.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  -^ 
 
 ting  boldly,  and  at  the  fame  time  furely,  in  the  fields 
 of  knowledge.  To  avoid  thefe  radical  errors,  let  a  young 
 gentleman  carefully  ftudy  the  books  above  recommend- 
 ed, and,  through  the  whole  courfe  of  his  reading,  take 
 all  opportunities  of  converfing  with,  and  confulting  men 
 of  judgment  in  books ;  of  a  large  and  free  way  of  think- 
 ink,  and  of  extenfive  knowledge.  The  confequence  of 
 which  judicious  manner  of  proceeding  has,  in  many  in- 
 flances,  been  improvement  in  moft  branches  of  fcience 
 to  a  mafterly  degree  to  thirty  or  forty  years  of  age. 
 But  this  fuppofes  a  fuperior  natural  capacity,  and  vari- 
 ous other  advantages. 
 
 Next  after  fuch  a  knowledge  of  languages,  numbers, 
 geometry,  geography,  chronology,  and  logic,  which 
 may  be  called  inftrumental  ftudies,  after  fuch  a  mode- 
 rate acquaintance  with  thefe,  as  may  be  acquired  be-^ 
 fore  eighteen  or  twenty,  youth  may  proceed  to  the  more 
 manly  ftudies  of  hiftory,  biography,  the  theory  of  go- 
 vernment, lavvy  commerce,  oeconomies,  and  ethics. 
 
 I  mention  thefe  together,  becaufe  there  is  a  connec- 
 tion between  them,  which  renders  them  proper  to  be 
 carried  on  in  fucceffion,  as  they  will  mutually  affift  and 
 throw  a  light  on  each  other.  And  1  advife  a  ftudious 
 youth  to  improve  himfelf  in  fuch  branches  of  knowledge 
 as  thefe,  befor^  he  pFoceeds  to  perfed  himfelf  in  the 
 higher  mathematics ;  firft,  on  account  of  the  incompa- 
 rably fuperior  itnportance  of  a  thorough  knowledge  of 
 our  own  nature,  ftate^  and  obligations;  the  indifpeniable 
 neceffity  of  underftanding  which  fubjedis  is  fuch,  as  ta 
 make  all  our  purfuits  appear  comparatively  but  fpeeioua 
 trifling.  And,  fecondly,  becaufe  this  kind  of  know- 
 ledge is  obviouHy  of  fuch  a  nature,  as  not  to  hazard 
 any  poflible  bad  effeft  upon  a  young  mind,  which  is 
 more  than  can  be  faid  of  moft  other  branches  of  ftudy, 
 indulged  to  a  great  length.  The  vanity  and  affedation 
 which  a  little  unufual  knowledge  in  claflical  learning 
 gives  weak  minds,  is  fo  confpicuous,  as  to  have  occalion- 
 ed  that  fpecies  of  learning  to  be  termed,  by  way  of  di- 
 ftindion,  pedantic  Jcholarjlnp.  And  as  to  mathematics, 
 many  inftances  could  be  produced  of  men  of  very  fine 
 heads  for  that  fcience,  who,  by  accuftoming  themfelves 
 
 whoihf 
 
450  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  11. 
 
 wholly  to  deraonllration,  have  run  into  an  afFeded  ha- 
 bit of  requiring  demonftration  in  fubjeds  naturally  in- 
 capable of  it,  and  of  defpifing  all  thofe  parts  of  ftudy, 
 as  unfcientilical,  which  do  not  give  the  fatisfaction  of 
 mathematical  certainty.  Such  perfons  thus  difqualify- 
 ing  thcmfeives  for  improvement  in  the  moll  ufeful  parts 
 of  knowledge,  though  eminent  in  one  particular  way, 
 may,  upon  the  v.hole,  be  properly  faid  to  be  men  of 
 narrow  minds.  This  evil  might  have  been  prevented, 
 had  they  timely  given  themfelves  to  other  inquiries,  as 
 well  as  mathematics,  and  been  accuftomed  to  apply  their 
 minds  to  various  ways  cf  fearching  into,  and  finding  out 
 truth.  But  the  natural  and  almolt  unavoidable  effedl 
 of  confining  the  mind  to  one  kind  of  purfait,  is  the 
 hampering  and  narrowing,  inilead  of  enlarging  and  en- 
 nobling it. 
 
 At  the  fame  time  it  ought  to  be  remembered,  that 
 nothing  tends  fo  much  to  habituate  to  a  juftnefs  of 
 thought,  and  accuracy  of  expreffion,  as  a  tindure  of 
 mathematical  knowledge  received  in  youth.  Ail  that 
 is  here  intended  to  be  guarded  againft,  is  the  plunging 
 too  deep  at  firfl  into  that  ftudy,  which  often  tends  to 
 the  exclufion  of  all  others  for  life.  And,  as  was  before 
 tDbferved,  no  part  of  ufeful  or  ornamental  knowledge  is 
 to  be  excluded,  confidently  with  a  view  of  a  complete 
 improvement  of  the  mind. 
 
 Ufeful  books,  previous  to  the  reading  of  hiftory,  are 
 fuch  as  the  following,  viz.  Rollings  Method  of  ftudying 
 Hiflory,  in  his  Belles  Lettres.  Boujfefs  Difcours  de 
 TKiftoire  Univerfelle*  Potter  s  Greek,  and  Kennefs  Ro- 
 man Antiquities,  Straucbius's  and  Helvicus''s  Chrono- 
 logy, Sleidan  on  the  Four  Monarchies,  IV/jear^s  and 
 Frefnofs  Methods  of  ftudying  Hiftory. 
 
 In  order  to  read  hiftory  with  perfed  clearnefs,  geo- 
 graphy muft  go  hand  in  hand.  The  fyftem  of  Geogra- 
 phy lately  publiftied,  together  with  Anjor^s  Voyage, 
 which  contains  fome  new  accounts,  not  in  that  work, 
 WelWs  Geographia  Claffica^  and  Senex^s  New  General 
 Aths^  may  be  proper  to  perfed  a  gentleman  in  that  ufe- 
 ful branch  cf  knowledge. 
 
 To 
 
Of  trioivhdge.)       HUMAN  NATURE.  i6i 
 
 To  be  matter  of  ancient  hiftory,  let  a  perfon  firft  per- 
 ufe  carefully  the  Uuiverial  Hiltory,  confulting  all  along 
 the  maps  of  the  leveral  countries  vhich  have  been  the 
 fcene  of  adiion,  and  referring  every  chaia6ter  and 
 event  to  if;  proper  date.  Alrcr  this  geneial  view  of 
 the  whole  body  of  ancient  hiilory,  thole  who  have  lei- 
 fure,  and  other  advantages,  may  rea-d  as  many  of  the 
 originals  as  they  pkafe,  efpeciaily  upon  more  important 
 charad;eTS  and  facis.  They  are  all  along  quoted  by  the 
 compilers  of  the  above  excellent  and  ufeful  work. 
 Thofe  who  pofTefs  the  learned  languages,  in  vvhich 
 thofe  originals  were  writ,  fmd  in  the  perufal  of  them 
 a  peculiar  pleafurc,  even  where  itie  fails  related  are 
 already  known.  There  is  a  purity  and  beautiful 
 fimplicity  in  the  defcriptions  the  ancients  give,  vvbich 
 difcerning  readers  do  not  find  in  the  works  of 
 tranllators  or  compilers.  Eefides  that,  the  very  circiim- 
 llance  of  the  mind's  letting  iilclf  be  deceived  into  the 
 belief,  that  we  read  the  very  words  of  an  ancient  U'ar- 
 rior,  or  orator,  though  it  is  certain,  thofe  Vv'e  have 
 afcribed  to  them  by  hillovians,  are  for  the  mod  part  pun. 
 into  their  mouths  by  the  hidorians  themfelves ;  the 
 mind's  perfuading  itfelf,  that  it  hears  the  very  words 
 and  accents  of  an  illuftrious  charader  in  antiquity, 
 makes  the  perufa-1  of  an  original  peculiarly  entertaining 
 and  ftriking. 
 
 Gentlemen  of  leifure  and  fortune  efpeciaily,  ought  by 
 110  means  to  be  without  a  little  acquaintance  vviih  He- 
 rodotus^ Tbucyd'ides,  Foljvras,  Xtiiophon,  Diodorus  Sicu- 
 luSf  and  Pluianh,  the  molt  celebrated  Greek  hiftorians; 
 nor  with  jujlin,  Livy,  Tacitus,  dsfar,  SaIU(/i,  Suetonius^ 
 and  Curtius,  the  greateif  among  the  Remans. 
 
 Some  of  the  bell  modern  hiflories  are  Puffeiidorf^ 
 fntroduflioh,  Rapines  Hiitory  of  Enjiand,  Meztray's 
 and  Daniel'?,  of  France,  MarianaH  of  Spain,  VertotH  of 
 Fortugal,   Sir  Paul  Rircaiit\  of  the  Turks,  Oakley's  of 
 
 the  Saracens,  Du  Haiders  of  China  ; of  the  Piratical 
 
 States  of  Jjarbary;  Herrercii,  of  America  :  Hiflory  of  the 
 Conqueil  of  Mexico  ;  of  Germany  ;  of  Naples  ;  of  Fh- 
 r^nce^  bv  Mcichiavel  •   of  Fe?iice,  by  Nain  and  Parma  ; 
 
 M  ^^ 
 
1^2  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  II.' 
 
 of  Genoa  :  of  Poland,  by  Connor  ;  of  Holland ;  of  Flan- 
 ders, by  Bentivojlio. 
 
 To  read  hiftoiy  with  advantage,  keep  conftantly  in 
 view  the  following  ends;  to  find  out  truth  ;  to  unravel, 
 if  pofTible,  the  grounds  of  events,  and  the  motives  of  ac- 
 tions;  to  attain  clear  ideas  of  remarkable  characlers, 
 efpeciaily  of  that  which  diftinguilhcs  one  characler  from 
 another;  to  profit  by  the  various  ufeful  leiTon?  exhibited  ; 
 to  ftudy  human  nature,  as  reprefentcd  in  hiliory,  and 
 to  endeavour  to  find  out  which  characlers  you  yourfelf 
 I'efemble  the  moft ;  and  to  remark  whatever  throws  any 
 light  or  evidence  upon  religion. 
 
 To  draw  up  in  writing  an  epitome  or  abflracl  of  the 
 nioH:  fhining  parts  of  hiliory  and  eminent  charadfcrs,  as 
 one  proceeds,  adjulling  the  chronology  and  geography 
 ail  along,  will  contribute  greatly  to  the  fixing  in  the 
 mind  a  general  comprehenfive  view  of  the  whole  thread 
 of  (lory  from  the  oldell  accounts  of  time  downward, 
 difpofed  according  to  the  feveral  ages  and  countries 
 which  make  a  figure  in  hiflory.  Biit  this  will  require 
 leifure  to  execute  it  properly.  Among  the  abridged 
 fa6ls  m-ight,  with  great  advantage,  be  difpofed  a  fet  of 
 reflexions,  moral,  political,  and  theological,  as  they  oc- 
 curred in  the  courfe  of  reading,  which  would  in  the 
 whole  amount  to  a  very  great  number  and  variety  ;  and 
 would  prove  an  agreeable  and  improving  amufement  in 
 advanced  life,  to  perufe,  add  to,  and  corred,  according 
 as  one's  jadgmient  matured,  and  views  enlarged.  A 
 man  of  leifure  and  abiiiries  might,  in  his  collection  of 
 hillorical  remarks,  unite  together  in  one  view  whatever 
 characlers  feemed  to  have  any  refemblance,  might  fet 
 againfl  one  another  fuch  as,  by  making  llriking  con- 
 trails, might  fet  off  ofip  another  to  the  heft  advantage. 
 He  mighc  obferve  the  diiTerent  conducl  of  the  fame  per- 
 Ibn  at  different  times,  and  account,  iTom  the  different 
 circum^anccs  he  was  engaged  in,  for  thofe  diflerences 
 in  his  behaviour.  He  might  obferve  how  one,  of  per- 
 haps the  bell  abilities,  was  unhappily  led  into  fuch  a 
 courfe 'of  condudl  as  has  biafled  his  reputation;  how 
 'another,  by  miiTmg  certain  advantages,  fell  fhort  of  the 
 charader,   which,'  by  a  happy  co-incidence  of  circum- 
 
 flances. 
 
0/Kfioii'Mge.J        HUMAN  NATURE.  163 
 
 fiances,  he  muft  have  attained.  How  feemingl}:  hicon-' 
 fiderable  paiticuhirs  in  the  condud  of  princes  and  great 
 men,  have  produced  ftrange  effeds  in  the  affairs  of  nian- 
 kind,  and  what  momentous  confequcnces  to  the  reft  of 
 the  world  depend  upon  the  behaviour  of  thofe  who  are 
 at  the  head  of  it. 
 
 Hiftory  is  the  key  to  the  knowledge  of  Human  Na- 
 ture. For  in  it  we  fee  what  fort  of  beings  our  fellow- 
 creatures  are,  by  reading,  their  genuine  characters  in 
 their  adions.  Thele"a  perfon,  who  carefully  lUidics 
 hiftory,  may  trace  up  to  their  fource,  and  purfue  and. 
 unravel  all  the  wonderful  difguifes,  doublings,  and  in- 
 tricacies of  the  human  heart.  Life,  as  it  is  generally 
 conduded  by  perfons  of  all  ftations,  bat  efpecially  of 
 the  higheft,  appears  from  hiftory  in  its  true  colours,  as 
 a  fcene  of  crafr,  cf  violence,  of  felfiQinefs,  cruelty,  folly, 
 end  vanity.  Hiftory  fiiews  the  ,roal  worth  of  the  ufual 
 objeds  of  the  purfuit  of  mankind  ;  that  there  is  nothing 
 new  under  the  fun  ;  nothing  to  be  wondered  at ;  that 
 mankind  have  been  from  the  beginning  bewildered  and 
 led  from  their  real  happinefs,  and  the  end  of  their  be- 
 ing, after  a  thoufand  vilionary  vanities,  which  have  de- 
 luded and  difappointed  them  from  generation  to  gene- 
 ration, and  are  likely  to  do  fo  to  the  laft. 
 
 What  can  be  more  entertaining  or  inftrudive,  than 
 in  hiftory  .to  trace  this  v.'orld  of  ours  through  its  various 
 ftates;  obferve  what  fort  of  inhabitants  have  poffefled  it, 
 in  different  periods ;  how  different,  and  yet  how  much 
 the  fame  ;  "how  nations,  ftates,  and  kingdoms  have  rifen, 
 fiouriftied,  and  funk  ;  the  firft  rife  of  government,  pa- 
 triarchal, monarchical,  republican;  what  charaders  have 
 appeared  in  different  ages,  eminent  for  virtue,  or  infa- 
 mous for  wickednefs  ;  to  what  feemingly  ftight  caufes 
 the  moft  important  events  have  been  owing;  the  arts, 
 by  which  one  man  has  been  able  to  fubdue  millions  of 
 his  fellow-creatures,  and  to  tread  on  the  neck  of  man- 
 kind ;  the  motives  which  have  put  men  upon  adion  ; 
 gnd  the  weakneffes  which  have  been  the  caufe  of  the 
 baffling  of  their  fchemes ;  the  force  of  human  pafiions, 
 the  weaknefs  of  reafon,  the  iniiuence  which  prejudices 
 .and  attachments  have  on  the  condud  of  men,   the  fur- 
 
 INl  2  prifing 
 
1^4  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  Jt 
 
 hc^iixhts  to  which  viniie  has  raifed  fome  men,  the  diffi- 
 culties conquered,  the  lioi tours  gained,  and  the  lading 
 fame  acquired  by  a  difinterelled  love  of  their  country, 
 the  madnefs  on  which  ambition,  covetoulhefs,  and  love 
 of  pleafure  have  driven  men  ;  and  through  the  whole, 
 the  influence  of  the  unfecn  Providence  diiappointing  the 
 cbunfels  of  the  wife  i  weakening  the  power  of  the 
 mighty  ;  putting  down  one^  and  rainng  another  up  j 
 and  working  out  its  own  great  and  important  ends,  by 
 the  weaknefs,  the  power,  the  virtue,  the  wickednefsj 
 the  wifdom,  and  thr  folly  of  mankind. 
 
 Hiftoryis  the  great  inftrudor  for  all  ranks  in  life,  but 
 efpecially  the  highefl.  Forthofe  who  are  befieged  and 
 lalocked  up  by  triple  guards  of  flatterers,  (whofe  chief 
 eare  and  great  intereft  it  is  above  all  things  to  prevent 
 the  approach  of  truth)  in  hiftory  may  fee  characters  as 
 great,  or  greater  than  their  own,  treated  with  the  ut- 
 moft  plainnefs.  There  the  haughty  tyrant  may  fee 
 how  a  Nero  was  fpoke  of  behind  his  back,  though  dei- 
 fied by  the  flavifn  knee  of  Flattery.  Thence  he  may 
 judge  how  he  himfelf  will  be  fpoken  of  by  hiftorians, 
 who  will  no  longer  dread  his  menace  after  his  head  is 
 laid  in  the  duft.  Thence  he  may  judge  how  his  cha- 
 radler  is  perhaps  now  treated  in  the  antichamber  of  his. 
 own  palace,  by  thevery  fycophants  whofe  fervile  tongues 
 had,  the  moment  before,  been  lavifhing  the  fulfome  and 
 undiftinguifhed  applaufe  on  his  word  vices,  which  they 
 had  fanctified  with  the  title  oi princely  virtues.  Hiltory. 
 •will  faithfully  lay  before  him  his  various  and  important 
 duty  (for  the  higher  the  rank,  the  more  exteniive  the 
 fphere  of  duty  to  be  performed),  which  thofe,  who 
 come  into  his  prefence,  dare  not,  or  oftener  will  not,  in- 
 flrucl  him  in.  There  he  will  fee  the  original  of  the 
 inftitution  of  government,  and  learn,  that  power  is  given 
 into  the  hands  of  one  for  the  advantage  of  the  many ; 
 not,  according  to  the  monftrous  dodlrine  of  tyranny  and 
 flavery,  the  many  made  for  one.  There  he  will  learn 
 every  honelt  art  of  government,  and  can  be  engaged  in, 
 HO  difficult  circumllance,  of  which  he  will  not  find  an 
 example,  and  upon  which  he  may  not  learn  fome  ufe- 
 ful  inftru(^ioii  for  governing  mankind.     For  the  human 
 
 ipecies^ 
 
OjKnoKvkdge.)       HUMAN  NATUTRE.  165 
 
 fpecies  have  been  from  the  beginnifig  very  much  the 
 fame,  and  generally  capable,  bv  wile  laws,  rtridiy  exe- 
 cuted, by  a  j  'dicious  police  univerfally  prevailing,  and 
 by  the  powerful  example  of  perfons  in  high  rank,  of 
 being  governed  and  managed  at  the  pleafure  of  able  ■,^\^\^ 
 politic  princes.  There  he  will  fee  the  difference  be- 
 tween the  real  glory  of  a  Titus  or  an  Alfred,  and  the 
 horrible  barbarity  of  a  Philip  or  a  Lewis.  He  may  fet 
 his  own  chara-dler  and  ad:ions  at  the  diitanre  ot  a  few 
 centuries,  and  judge  in  his  own  mind,  whether  he  will 
 then  appear  in  the  light  of  a  devourer  of  his  fellow- 
 creatures,  or  of  the  father  of  his  people  ;  of  a  wife  and 
 active  monarch,  or  of  a  thing  of  flireds  and  patches ;  of 
 an  example  to  mankind  of  every  fublime  virtue,  or  a 
 general  corrupter  of  manners.  Hiftory  is  the  grand 
 tribunal,  before  which  princes  themfelves  are,  in-  the 
 view  of  all  mankind,  arraigned,  cried,  and,  often  with 
 the  greateft  freedom  as  well  as  impartiality,  condenmed 
 to  everlafting  infamy.  And  though  it  is  the  mark  of  a 
 truly  great  mind  to  dare  to  be  virtuous  at  the  expence 
 of  reputation  ;  it  is  a  proof  of  a  foul  funk  to  the  loweil 
 bafenefs  of  human  nature,  to  bear  to  think  of  deferving 
 the  contempt  or  hatred  of  all  mankind,  the  wife  and 
 good,  as  well  as  the  unthinking  and  worthlefs. 
 
 There  is  not  indeed  a  leflon  in  the  whole  compafs  of 
 morals,  that  is  not,  in  the  nvoit  advantageous  and  plea- 
 ding way,  to  be  learned  in  hiftory  and  biography,  taking 
 in  ancient  and  modern,  facred  and  profane.  There  the 
 madnefs  of  ambition  appears  in  a  ftrikjng  light.  The 
 dreadful  ravages  produced  by  that  wide- wailing  fury, 
 whenever  fhe  has  poffeffed  the  frantic  brain  of  a  hero, 
 and  fent  him,  like  ^  devouring  five,  or  an  overffowing 
 inundation,  Ipreading  dcftrudion  over  the  f^ce  of  the; 
 earth;  the  numbers  of  the  innocent  and  helplefs,  who 
 bave,  in  the  different  ages  of  the  world,  been  fpoiled 
 and  maffacred,  to  make  one  feilow-worm  great;  fhe  hu- 
 man hecatombs,  which  have  been  offered  to  this  infer- 
 nal demon;  the  anxious  hours  of  life,  and  the  violent 
 deaths,  to  which  unthinking  men  have  brought  them- 
 felves, by  the  egregious  folly  of  flying  from  happinef^ 
 in  purfuit  of  the  phantom  of  a  name ;  the  exteniive  and 
 
 ^^  3  9J^4.- 
 
i6o  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IL 
 
 endlefsly-various  views,  which  hiftory  exhibits,  of  the 
 fatal  corifequcnces  of  this  vice,  oi^'iht  to  teach  the  mt)ft 
 inconliderate  the  wiftiom  of  contentixient,  and  the  hap- 
 pinefs  of  retirement. 
 
 In  hillory  we  fee  the  moil  illuftricus  charadters,  for 
 that  worth,  which  alone  is  real,  the  internal  excellence 
 of  the  mind,  riling  fuperior  to  the  mean  purfuit  of 
 riches,  dignifying  and  fanclifying  poverty  by  volunta- 
 rily embracing  it.  From  thence  we  cannot  help  learn- 
 ing this  important  lefTon  ;  That  the  external  advantages 
 of  wealth,  titles,  buildings,  drefs,  equipage,  and  the  like, 
 are  no  more  to  the  man,  than  the  proud  trappings  to  the 
 horfe,  which  add  not  to  his  value,  and  W'hich  we  even 
 remove,  before  vve  can  examine  his  foundnefs,  and  which 
 may  be  put  upon  the  ilupid  ais,  as  well  as  the  generous 
 Iteed. 
 
 The  contrails  we  find  in  hiftory  between  thofe  na- 
 tions and  particular  perfons,  who  ftudied  temperance 
 and  abllinence,  and  thofe  whofe  beaftly  luxury  renders 
 them  infamous  to  pofterity,  ought  in  all  reafon  to  con- 
 vince the  readers  of  hiftory  of  the  advantage  of  living^ 
 agreeably  to  the  dignity  of  Human  Nature.  The  Ipon- 
 taneous  and  voluntary  approbation,  which  the  heart  im- 
 mediately gives  to  virtue,  where  paffion  and  prejudice 
 are  out  of  the  way  (as  is  the  cafe  where  we  confider  the 
 character  of  thofe  v;ho  have  been  buried  a  thoufand 
 years  ago),  feems  to  be  the  voice  of  God  within  the 
 mind,  calling  it  to  the  fludy  and  pradice  of  whatever 
 is  truly  laudable.  Why  does  not  every  prince  judge  of 
 himfelf  with  the  fame  impartiality  as  he  does  of  the 
 Cfsfars?  Why  does  a  private  perfon  indulge  himfelf  in 
 vices,  which  all  mankind,  and  even  himfelf,  abhor  in  a. 
 Sardanapalus^  or  Hdiogahalus? 
 
 It  would  be  eafy  to  write  a  book,  as  large  as  this 
 whole  work,  upon  the  moral  advantages  of  the  ftudj  of 
 hillory.     But  to  proceed  : 
 
 The  writers  of  ecciefiaftical  hillory  may  be  as  pro- 
 perly mentioned  here,  as  any  where  elfe,  viz,  viz,  Eiije- 
 hius,  Socrates,  l^c.  \  Cave's  Lives  of  the  Fathers;  Dupms 
 Ecclefiaftical  Hiftory;  Hiftories  of  the  Councils;  5oi£^<?r'j 
 Hiftory  of  the  Popes ;  Chandler'' s  of  the  Inquilition  ; 
 
 Slddan  s 
 
bjKmivkdge.)        HUMAlsr  i^T'ATURE,  167 
 
 Sleidaii's  Hiftory  oF  t!ie  Reformation  in  Germany; 
 Brandfs  in  \he LoW-Cau/itt ies  ;  Ruchat^s  in  Sisjitzerlmid •, 
 and  Burnet's  in  England  To  which  add,  Wbi/tcns 
 Sacred  Hiftory  ;  Jortins  Rf^marks  on  Ecclefiaftical  Hi- 
 llory ;  and  Mo/heini's  lately-publiflied  work. 
 
 Biography  is  a  fpecies  of  Hiftory,  with  this  peculia- 
 rity, that  it  exhibits  more  minutely  the  charaders,  and 
 fets  forth  to  view  fome  which  are  too  private  for  hi- 
 ftory, bnt  which  are  not  on  that  account  lefs  worthy  of 
 being  known,  but  perhaps  more  fo  than  thofe  which, 
 being  more  expofed,  were  more  difguifed  and  aifedted, 
 and  confequently  more  remote  from  Nature,  the  know- 
 ledge of  which  ought  to  be  the  object  in  view.  There 
 Is  no  fort  of  reading  more  profitable  than  that  of  the 
 lives  and  charaders  of  wife  and  good  men.  To  find 
 that  great  lengths  have  been  actually  gone  in  learning 
 and  virtue,  that  high  degrees  of  perfedlion  have  been 
 aclually  attained  by  men  like  ourfelves,  intangled 
 among  the  infirmities,  rhe  temptations,  the  oppofiiion 
 from  wicked  men,  and  the  other  various  evils  of  life  ; 
 how  does  this  Qiew  us  to  ourfelves  as  utterly  inexcufable, 
 if  we  do  not  endeavour  to  emulate  the  heights  we  know 
 have  been  reached  by  others  of  our  fcllov.'-creatnres. 
 Biography,  iri  fhort,  brings  us  ro  the  moft  intimate  ac- 
 quaintance with  the  real  characters  of  the  iiluftrious 
 dead;  fliews  us  what  they  have  been,  and  confequently 
 what  we  ourfelves  may  be;  fets  before  us  the  whole  cha- 
 racter of  a  perfon  who  has  made  himfelf  eminent  either 
 by  his  virtues  or  vices;  (hews  as  how  he  came  firft  to  take 
 a  right  or  wrong  turn  ;  how  he  afterwards  proceeded 
 greater  and  greater  lengths  •  the  profpects  which  in- 
 vited him  to  afpire  to  higher  degrees  of  glory,  or  the 
 delufions  which  mifled.  him  from  his  virtue  and  his 
 peace  ;  the  circumllances  which  raifed  him  to  true 
 greatnefs,  or  the  rocks  on  which  he  fplit  and  funk  to 
 infamy.  And  how  can  we  more  efYedually,  or  in  a 
 more  entertairiing  mani^cr,  learn  the  important  leilbn. 
 What  we  ought  to  purfue,-and  what  to  avoid. 
 
 Befides  Plutarch,  Corneliui  Nepos,  Suetotihls,  and  the 
 reft  of  the  ancient  biographers,  the  moderns  ars  to^  be 
 confukcd.     The  General  Dictionary,  continued  by  the 
 
 M  4  writers 
 
,58  THE  DIGJTI'TY  OF  (Book  IS. 
 
 ■writers  of  Biograpbia  Britannica,  is  a  vaft;  treafure  of 
 this  kind  of  knowledge.  One  cannot  propofe  to  periife 
 thoroughly  fuch  voluminous  works.  They  are  only  to 
 have  a  place  in  a  gentleman's  library,  and  to  be  turned 
 to  at  times,  and  felecl  parts  to  be  read  and  digefted. 
 
 A  general  inlight  into  the  theoretical  part  of  govern- 
 ment, and  law,  feems  neceOfary  to  the  complete  im- 
 provement of  the  mind.  Tiiis  may  be  bed  acquired  by 
 a  careful  attention  to  hillory,  which  fliews  the  original 
 of  government  ;  its  neceffity  and  advantage  to  the 
 ■world,  when  properly  adminftered  ;  its  corruptions  and 
 errors  ;  changes  and  revolutions ;  ruin  and  fubverfion, 
 «nd  their  cauTes.  This  is  the  proper  fcience  of  a  gen- 
 tleman^ of  eminent  rank,  who  has  weight  and  influence 
 in  his  country. 
 
 Proper  helps  for  this  Jludy  are  the  following,  'viz. 
 
 Bacon,  Locke,  and  Sidmy,  on  Government ;  Harring- 
 tan  s  and  Sir  Thomas  Morels  Works  ;  Grotius  on  the 
 Rights  of  War  and  Peace  ;  Puffendorjps:  Law  of  Na- 
 ture and  Nations,  with  Barbeyrac''s  Notes  ;  Aliltons 
 Political  Works,  which  are  to  be  read  with  large  allow- 
 ances, for  his  zeal  for  the  party  he  was  engaged  in  ; 
 Sir  Plilliam  Temple's  Works  ;  Cajliglione^s  Courtier  ; 
 RYmer''s  Fcedera;  lVood''s  Inftitutes ;  VEfprit  des  Loix.; 
 JJomafs  Civil  Law  ;  and  The  Statutes  abridged. 
 
 The  theory  of  commerce  is  clofely  conneded  with 
 the  foregoing.  It  is  a  fubjed  highly  worthy  the  atten* 
 tion  of  any  perfon^  who  would  improve  himfelf  with  a 
 general  and  extenfively-ufeful  knowledge;  and  for 
 perfons  in  eminent  and  active  ilations  is  indifpenfably 
 neceifary.  Thofe  who  have  any  concern  with  the 
 legiflature,  and  thofe  who  are  at  the  head  of  cities  and 
 corporations,  if  they  be  deiicient  in  knowledge  of  the 
 interefts  of  trade,  are  wanting  in  what  is  there  proper 
 calling.  Every  perfon,  who  has  either  vote  or  intereft 
 in  choofing  a  Reprefentative  in  Parliament,  ought  to 
 make  it  his  bufinefs  to  know  fo  much  of  the  commerce 
 of  his  country,  as  to  know  how,  and  by  whom,  it  is 
 likely  to  be  promoted  or  difcouraged.  And  if  all  was 
 lightly  regulated,   it  is  to  be  queitioned  if  any  one 
 
 ought 
 
Of  Knomledge.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  \6^ 
 
 ought  to  be  an  elector,  who  could  not  make  a  toler- 
 able figure  in  the  houfe,  if  not  as  a  fpeaker,  at  leaft  as 
 a  voter.. 
 
 To  acquire  fome  general  underflandingof  the  theory 
 of  trade  and  commerce,  a  gentleman  may,  with  advan- 
 tage, ufe  the  following  books,  viz.  Pojllethwaite's  Dic- 
 tionary of  Trade  and  Commerce ;  The  BritiJJj  Mer- 
 chanty  3  vols,  in  i2mo;  Sir  Jojiah  Child  on  Trade; 
 Urtariz's  Theory  of  Trade  and  Commerce ;  Univerfal 
 Library  of  Trade  and  Commerce  ;  The  Merchant's 
 Map  of  Commerce  ;  Locke  on  Trade  and  Coin ;  Lex 
 Mercatoria  Rediviva;.  OldenburgJfst  Stevens's,  ?iW^  Lock- 
 yer's  Pieces  on  Trade  and  Exchange  ;  Davenant  on 
 Trade  and  Revenues ;  Gee  on  Trade  ;  Trads  by  Mp. 
 Tucker  of  Brijiol;  and  AnderJorCs  Hiftory  of  Commerce. 
 
 But  whoever,  from  a  view  to  public  good,  would  per- 
 fedly  underftand  the  prefent  (late  of  the  commerce  of 
 thefe  kingdoms,  as  it  is  continually  varying  and  fludu- 
 ating,  he  cannot  exped  to  have  a  juft  account  of  it  by 
 any  other  m.eans  than  the  informations  of  thofe  aduallj 
 engaged  in  it. 
 
 A  gentleman  may  afterwards  read  the  works  of  thof* 
 writers  who  have  treated  of  the  human  nature  and 
 faculties,  their  extent  and  improvement,  in  a  fpecula- 
 tive  or  theoretical  way.  After  having  ftudied  hiflory, 
 he  will  be  qualified  to  judge  whether  fuch  authors  treat 
 the  fubjed  properly  or  not ;  and  will  be  capable  of  im- 
 proving and  correding  their  theory  from  the  examples 
 of  real  charaders  exhibited  in  hiftory. 
 
 Mr.  Locke'' s  EfTay  on  The  Human  Underflanding  is  the 
 fonndation  of  this  fort  of  knowledge.  There  is  no  good 
 author  on  the  fubjed,  who  has  not  gone  upon  his  ge- 
 neral plan.  His  condud  of  the  underftanding  is  alfo  a 
 work  worthy  of  its  author.  The  great  Bilhop  Butlen^ 
 author  of  the  Analogy,  in  fome  of  his  Sermons,  which 
 might  be  more  properly  called  philofophical  difcourfes, 
 has  with  much  fagacity  correded  feveral  errors  of  the 
 writers  on  this  fubjed,  on  the  theory  of  the  paffions, 
 and  other  particulars.  The  works  of  Mr.  Hatchefon  of 
 Glafgow  may  be  perufed  with  advantage.  He  is  borh, 
 en  raoft  points,  a  good  reafoner,  and  an  elegant  writer. 
 3  Beildes 
 
,70  THE  r-IGNlTY  OF  (Book  H 
 
 Befides  thefe  authors,  and  others,  who  have  written  ex~ 
 prcfsly  on  this  fubjed,  many  of  whom  have  faid  good, 
 things ;  but  have  run  into  fome  difputable  peculiarities 
 of  opinion,  on  account  of  which  I  do  not  choofe  to  re- 
 commend them  ;  befides  thefe,  I  fay,  the  writings  of 
 almoft  all  our  celebrated  Englipj  Divines  and  Moralifls 
 contain  valuable  materials  on  this  fubjedt. 
 
 The  inimitable  Authors  of  the  Spedator^  Tatler,  and 
 Guardian,  have  difplayed  the  whole  of  human  life,  in 
 all  the  fliapes  and  colours  it  appears  in.  Thofe  admir-' 
 able  eflaysmay  be  read  as  a  ground-work  of  ceconomicSy- 
 or  the  knowledge  of  the  arts  of  life. 
 
 There  would  be  no  end  of  giving  a  lift  of  books  on' 
 this  head.  The  few  following  are  fome  of  the  beft, 
 viz.  The  Rule  of  Life  in  Select  Sentences,  from  the  An- 
 cients ;  Apophthegms  of  the  Ancients  ;  Majori's  Self- 
 knowledge  ;  Charron  on  Wifdom  ;  Bacon  s.  Collier'' s^ 
 and  Montaigne's  Eifays ;  Fuller'' s  Introdudions  to  Wif- 
 dom and  Prudence  ;  The  Moral  Miicellany  ;  The 
 Practical  Preacher ;  and  The  Plain  Dealer,  in  i  vol. 
 
 Of  all  parts  of  knowledge,  which  may  be  properly 
 termed  fcientific,  there  is  none,  that  can  be  fo  ill  dif- 
 penfed  with  by  a  gentleman,  who  would  cultivate  his 
 mind  to  the  utmoft  perfedion,  as  that  of  Ethics,  or  the 
 grounds  of  morality.  The  knowledge  of  right  and 
 wrong,  the  obligations  and  confequences  of  virtue,  and 
 the  ruinous  nature  and  tendency  of  vice,  ought  to  be 
 perceived  by  every  well-cultivated  mind  in  the  mod 
 clear  and  perfect  manner  poffible.  But  of  this  moll 
 important  branch  of  fcience,  and  v»'hat  is  very  clofely 
 conneded  with  it,  viz.  revealed  religion,  I  Ihall  treat 
 in  the  two  following  books. 
 
 The  bell  ancient  moralilts  are  Plato,  Arijlotle,  Epicle- 
 ius,  Hiencles,  Xenophcn,  JEJop,  Plutarch,  Cicero,  Seneca 
 A7itonimis.  Among  the  moderns,  befides  thofe  men- 
 tioned under  other  heads,  and  befides  our  bell  divines, 
 as  Barrow,  Tillotfon,  and  the  reft,  the  following  are  ex- 
 cellent moral  treatiies,  viz,  IVoohiJton^s  Religion  of  Na- 
 ture delineated  ;  Groves^ s  S>  Rem  of  Morality  ;  Balgnys 
 Trads  ;  Cudwortb's  Immutable  and  Eternal  Morality; 
 Cumberland  de  Legibus,     Add  to  thefe,  Glover's^  Camp- 
 
 bcWsy 
 
OfKfio^vledge.)       HUMAN  NATURE.  f7r 
 
 beWf,  and  Nettl^tOTi's  Pieces  on  Virtue  and  Hnppinefst 
 Wilkins  on  Natural  Religion;  Fiddes  on  Moraliry;  Th<f: 
 Minute  Philofopher  ;  and  Pa'^fhars  Thoughts.  But  no 
 writer,  ancient  cr  modern,  •  this  fubjecl,  exceeds,  int 
 clofenefs  of  reafoning,  Price'  -.levi^w  of  Morals,  latelj 
 publiflied. 
 
 Of  all  ftudies,  none  have  a  n-^rore  direct  tendency  to 
 •aggrandize  the  mind,  and  ccufequently,  none  are  more- 
 fjitable  to  the  Dignity  of  Human  Nature,  than  thofcj, 
 which  are  included  under  the  gineral  term  of  phyfio- 
 logy,  or  the  knowledge  of  nature,  as  aftronomy,  ana-^ 
 tomy,  botany,  mineralogy,  and  fo  on.  The  Ihidy  of 
 nature  appears  in  no  ijght  fo  truJj  noble,  and  fit  to  en- 
 noble the  human  mind,  as  when  compared  with  thofe 
 of  the  works  of  UiVn,  as  criticifm,  antiquities,  architec- 
 ture, heraldry,  and  the  like.  In  the  former,  all  is  great, 
 beautiful,  and  perfect.  In  the  latter,  the  fubjefts  are 
 all  comparatively  mean  ?.nd  defective.  And  whatever 
 is  otherwife,  owes  its  excellence  to  nature,  as  in  poetry^, 
 painiing,  fculpture,  and  fo  forth.  The  firft  leads  us  to 
 know  and  adore  the  greateft  and  molt  perfed:  of  beings^. 
 The  latt,  to  fee  and  regret  our  own  weaknefs  and  im-«- 
 perfection. 
 
 The  fyftem  of  nature  is  the  magnificent  palace  of  the 
 King  of  the  univerfe.  The  ignorant  and  incurious,  ta 
 ufe  the  comparifon  of  a  great  philofopher,  is  as  a  fpider^ 
 which  retires  into  fome  dark  corner,  and  wraps  itfelf  in 
 its  own  dufty  cobweb,  infeniible  of  the  innumerable 
 beauties  which  furround  it.  The  judicious  inquirer 
 into  nature,  in  contemplating,  admiring,  and  moraiifing 
 upon  the  works  of  its  infinite  Author,  proves  the  juft- 
 nefs  of  his  own  underltanding,  by  his  approbation  of 
 the  perfed  productions  of  an  infinite-perfed  Being. 
 
 The  fneers  of  fupeificial  men,  upon  the  weaknefs 
 which  has  appeared  in  the  condud  of  fome  inquirers 
 into  nature,  ought  to  have  no  influence  to  difcourage 
 us  from  thofe  refearches.  If  fome  few  have  fpent  too 
 much  time  in  the  ftudy  of  infeds,  to  the  negled  of  the 
 nobler  parts  of  the  creation,  their  error  ought  to  fugged 
 to  us  not  a  total  negled  of  thofe  inferior  parts  of  na- 
 ture ; 
 
lYi.  THE  DIGNITY  O?  (Bodk  It 
 
 ture ;  but  only  to  avoid  the  miftake  of  giving  ouiTelves 
 wholly  to  them.  There  is  no  fpecies,  which  infinite 
 Wifdom  has  thought  worth  making,  and  preferving  for 
 ages,  whofe  nature  is  not  highly  worthy  of  our  inquir- 
 ing into.  And  it  is  certjiin,  that  there  is  more  of  curi- 
 ous workmanflilp  in  the  ftructure  of  the  body  of  the 
 meaneft  reptile,  than  in  the  moft  complicated,  and  moll 
 delicate  machine,  that  ever  was  or  will  be  conftruded 
 by  human  hands. 
 
 To  gain  the  great  advantage  which  ought  to  be  kept 
 in  view/ in  inquiring  into  nature,  to  wit,  improvement 
 of  the  mind,  we  mufl  take  care  to  avoid  the  error  of 
 fome,  who  feem  to  have  no  fcheme  but  the  finding  out 
 a  fet  of  mere  dry  fads,  or  truths,  w^ithout  ever  thinking 
 of  the  inftrudion  which  may  be  drawn  from  the  obfer- 
 vations  made.  An  inquirer  into  nature,  (fays  the  above 
 eminent  author,  who  himfelf  went  as  great  lengths  as 
 any  one  ever  did  in  that  ftudy)  who  carries  his  re- 
 fearches  no  farther  the  mere  finding  out  of  truths,  ads 
 a  part  as  much  beneath  him,  who  ufes  philofophy  to 
 lead  him  to  the  knowledge  of  the  Author  of  Nature,  as 
 a  child  who  amufes  himfelf  with  the  external  orna- 
 ments of  a  tekfcope,  is  inferior  to  the  adronomer,  who 
 applies  it  to  difcover  the  wonders  of  the  heavens. 
 
 The  truth  is,  a  man  may  be  a  great  ailronomer  and 
 phyfiologirt,  and  yet  by  no  means  a  truly  great  man. 
 For  mere  fpecukitive  knowledge  alone  will  not  make  a 
 great  mind ;  though,  joined  with  the  other  necelTary 
 endowments,  it  gives  the  proper  idea  of  an  accomplillied 
 charader.  Sir  tfaac  Newton,  Mr.  Boyle,  and  thofe  who, 
 like  them,  look  through  nature  up  to  nature's  God,  can 
 alone  be  faid  to  have  purfued  and  attained  the  proper 
 end  of  philofophy,  which  can  be  no  other  way  of  any 
 real  fervice  to  moral  agents,  than  in  fo  far  as  it  has  pro- 
 per moral  efifeds  upon  them. 
 
 It  is  ftrange  that  any  man  can  think  of  the  feveral 
 wonders  of  nature,  as  the  two  extremes  of  ftupendous 
 greatnefs  and  inconceivable  minutenefs,  the  immenfe 
 variety  and  wonderful  uniformity,  the  frightful  rapidity, 
 :;ind  yet  unvarying  accuracy,  of  motions  j   the  countlefs 
 
 numbers. 
 
QfKtiowJalge.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  173 
 
 numbers,  and  yet  ample  provifion,  the  fimpliclty  of 
 eaufes,  and  variety  of  effects,  and  the  reft,  and  not  be 
 irrefiltibly  led  to  think  of  the  Maker  and  Governor  of 
 fucli  a  glorious  work  I  How  can  men  think  of  a  globe 
 twenty-five  thouiand  miles  round,  as  the  earth  we  in- 
 habit is  known  to  be,  without  thinking  of  the  hand 
 which  formed  this  mighty  mafs,  and  gave  it  a  figiire  fa 
 regular,  as  we  fee  it  has  by  its  fliadow  call  upon  the 
 moon  in  a  lunar  eclipfe,  without  adoring  Him,  who 
 could  as  it  were,  roll  the  ftupendous  heap,  between  his 
 hands,  and  accurately  mould  it  into  (hape  ?  But  if  aftro- 
 nomers  are  right,  in  calculating  the  magnitude  of  fome 
 of  the  other  planets  to  exceed  many  hundred  times  this 
 on  which  we  live,  and  the  fun  himfelf  to  be  equal  to  a 
 million  of  earths,  vvhofe  figure  we  obferve  to  be  per- 
 fedly  regular ;  what  can  we  think  of  the  eye  which 
 could  take  in,  and  the  hand  which  could  form  into  regular 
 ihape,  fuch  cumbrous  maffes  ?  If  we  confider  this  un- 
 wieldy lump  of  matter  on  which  v^^e  live,  as  whirling 
 round  the  fun  in  a  courfe  of  between  four  and  live  hun- 
 dred millions  of  miles  in  a  year,  and  confequently,  fixty 
 thoufand  in  one  hour,  a  rapidity  exceeding  that  of  a 
 cannon-ball  juft  difcharged,  as  much  as  that  does  the 
 fpeed  of  a  horfe  ;  can  we  avoid  reflecfing  on  the  in- 
 eonceiveable  might  of  the  arm  which  brandilhed  it,  and 
 threw  it  with  a  force  proportioned  to  fuch  a  rapidity  ? 
 One  would  think  thofe  who  belt  underftand  the  laws 
 of  motion,  and  the  exactneis  neceffary  in  adjufting  the 
 twofold  forces  which  produce  a  circular  or  eliptical  re- 
 volution round  a  centre,  ihould  be  the  propereil  perfons 
 to  fet  forth  the  wonders  of  Divine  Wifdom,  which 
 has  exhibited  fuch  inftances  of  fkill  in  the  motions  of 
 our  earth,  and  other  planets  round  the  fun,  and  in  the 
 compounded  motions  of  fatellites  or  moons  round  them. 
 Who  can  furvey  the  countlefs  myrials  of  animalcules^ 
 which  with  the  help  of  the  microfcope  are  yifible  iu 
 iilmott  all  kinds  of  fluids,  when  in  a  ftate  tending  to 
 putrefadion,  without  thinking  on  the  Almighty  Author 
 of  fuch  a  profufion  of  lifei  When  fome  grains  of  fand, 
 fome  fmall  cuttings  of  human  hairs,  or  any  other  body, 
 liyhofe  real  fize  is  known,  are  put  into  a  drop  of  one  of 
 
 ihofe 
 
174  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  II. 
 
 thofe  fluids  which  exhibit  nnitpalcules^  it  appears  evi- 
 dent t«  any  eye,  that  a  grain  of  fand  r:uft  be  equal  to 
 tt\€  ilze  of  forae  millions  of  them.  Fcr  the  grain  of 
 fand  appears  a  body  of  a  great  many  inches  folid,  while 
 the  whole  fluid  feems  filled  with  living  creatures,  even 
 then  (when  fo  enormoufly  magnified)  too  fmall  to  be 
 diftinguillied  :  I  mean  at  prefent  the  fmalleft  fpecics  of 
 ^animalcules,  for  the  mod  infufions  exhibit  a  great  va- 
 riety of  fiieS' — Two  or  three  times  the  number  of  the 
 inhabitants  of  London,  Weftminjier,  and  Soutbivark 
 crowded  into  the  bulk  of  a  grain  of  fand  I  Every  one 
 with  an  organifed  body,  confifting  of  the  various  parts 
 necefiliry  to  animal  life  I  What  mult  then  be  the  fize  and 
 particles  of  the  fluid,  which  circulates  in  the  veins  of 
 fuch  animals?  What  the  magnitude  of  a  particle  of 
 light,   to  which  the  other  is  a  mountain  ? 
 
 Thefe  few  particulars  are  thus  curforily  mentioned, 
 only  for  the  fake  of  an  opportunity  of  remarking  upon 
 the  oddnefsof  the  cafl:  of  fome  minds,  which  can  fpcnd 
 years  in  examining  fuch  wonders  of  nature,  going 
 through  the  calculations  neceflliiry  to  determine  facts, 
 and  yet  flop  fnort  of  tiie  reiiedlions  fo  natural  upon 
 making  the  difcovery,  and  for  the  fake  of  which  alone, 
 one  would  think  it  was  worth  while  to  have  beftowed 
 Jhe  pains.  For  it  is  really  of  very  little  confequence  to 
 lis  to  know  theexacl  proportion  between  the  magnitude 
 of  a  grain  of  fand  and  an  animalcule  in  pejjper-water; 
 the  wonderful  regularity  of  the  motions  of  all  the  great 
 bodies  in  nature,  defcribing  equal  areas  in  equal  times  ; 
 the  amazing  properties  of  light  and  colours  ;  and  the 
 means  by  which  vifion  is  performed,  and  the  like  :  it  is, 
 i  fay,  of  very  little  confequence  to  know  a  number  of 
 facls  which  obtain  in  nature,  if  we  never  conlider  thera 
 farther  than  as  dry  uninterefting  fads,  nor  think  of 
 applying  our  knowledge  of  them  to  fome  purpofe  of 
 ufefulnefs  for  life  or  futurity. 
 
 The  invitations  to  acquire  a  general  knowledge  of 
 anatomy,  are  innumerable.  An  animal  body  is  indeed 
 a  fyflem  of  miracles.  The  number  of  various  parts 
 adapted  to  fuch  various  ufes  ;  the  ft;rud:ure  of  the  bones, 
 as  the  fupporters  of  the  whole  frame  j  the  number  and 
 
 apt- 
 
Of  Knowledge.)        PIUMAN  NATURE.  175 
 
 apt  infertion  of  the  mufcles,  for  performing  the  rtarious 
 motions  of  the  body  with  eafe  and  graccfulnefs  ;  tbc 
 cndlefs  variety  of  veflels,  tubes,  and  (trainers,  gradually 
 lelTening  to  imperceptibilitj,  with  the  fluids  circulating 
 through  them,  and  fecreted  by  them,  for  the  various 
 purpoles  of  nature,  which  render  the  body  of  an  animal 
 a  fyrtem  in  which  a  greater  number  of  flreams  are  con- 
 tinually flowing,  than  thofe  which  water  the  largefl: 
 ]<ingdoms  upon  earth,  or,  more  probably,  than  all  that 
 run  in  all  the  channels  round  the  globe. 
 
 The  eye  alone,  that  miracle  of  nature,  is  a  fludy  for 
 life  I  We  find  how  difllcuit  it  is  to  form  and  adjufi  a 
 fet  of  glaffes  for  any  compound  optical  inftrument. 
 Yet  glafs  is  a  folid  fubflancc,  which  will  keep  the  form 
 that  is  once  given  it.  But  the  eye  muft  be  confidered 
 as  a  compofition  of  various  coats  or  pellicles,  of  three 
 different  humours,  and  a  fet  of  mufcles  to  alter  the  form 
 of  thofe  humours,  and  the  aperture  of  the  eye,  infl:anta- 
 neoufly,  according  to  the  fituation,  or  diftance,  bright- 
 nefs  or  obfcurity,  of  the  object  to  be  viewed  ;  at  the 
 fame  time,  that  the  whole  mais  of  the  eye  is  to  be  con- 
 fidered as  a  fyftem  in  which  there  are  innumerable 
 llreams  continually  flowing.  Now  as  we  know,  that 
 in  order  to  diflind  vifion,  the  laws  of  optics  require  the 
 •figure  of  the  eye  to  be  llri6tly  true  and  regular  ;  that 
 it  fliould  continue  fit  for  viuon  for  a  few  moments  to- 
 gether, confidering  of  what  foft  and  pliable  fubilance  it 
 is  made,  and  how  continually  changing  its  figure  and 
 Hate,  is  what  we  can  in  no  refpcd:  give  an  account  of. 
 How  delightful  is  the  fearch  into  thefe  wonders  I  How 
 naturally  does  it  lead  the  well-difpofed  mind  to  love 
 and  adore  the  Almighty  Author  of  fo  excellent  a  work  I 
 
 There  is  indeed  none  of  the  works  of  nature,  down 
 to  the  raofl  common  and  contemptible  (if  any  thing 
 could  be  fo  called,  which  infinite  Wifdom  has  deigned 
 to  make),  that  is  not  found,  when  attentively  examined, 
 to  be,  forcuriofity,  of  flrufture,  above  the  apprehenfioii 
 of  any  human  mind.  What  is  meaner,  or  more  com- 
 mon than  a  pile  of  grafs?  Yet,  whoever  with  a  micro- 
 fcope,  examines  its  various  parts,  will  find  it  a  work  of 
 fuch  curiofitv,  as  to   dcferve  his  highefl:  admiration. 
 
 In 
 
fjS  THE  DIGNITY  OV  Book  11. 
 
 ^n  the  blade  he  will  find  a  double  coat  throughout* 
 between  which  the  veffels,  which  convey  the  juices  to 
 jiourifh  it,  are  difpofed.  The  minutenefs  of  thole  tubes 
 (lecreafes  to  imperceptibility.  Nor  do  the  fume  veflels 
 carry  and  return  the  juices.  There  are  jn  every  plant, 
 and  confequently  in  every  pile  of  grafs,  two  kinds  of 
 veffeis,  analogous  to  the  veins  and  arteries  in  an  animal 
 body,  by  means  of  which  a  circulation  of  the  juices  is 
 jierformed.  The  blade  is  alfo  furniflied  with  excre- 
 tory veffeis,  to  carry  off  by  perfpiration  whatever  juices 
 may  be  taken  into  the  plant,  which  may  be  fuperfluous, 
 or  unfit  for  its  nourifnment,  and  with  abforbent  veffeis, 
 at  whofe  orifices  nourifliraent  is  taken  in  from  the  ambi- 
 ent air,  as  well  as  from  the  earth  by  the  root.  The  blade 
 is  always  furnifhed  with  a  ftrong  fibrous  fubflance  run- 
 ning up  its  middle,  and  tapering  to  a  point,  for  fup- 
 porting  and  llrengthening  it.  The  fubftance  of  the 
 loots  of  all  plants,  is  quite  different  from  the  other  parts, 
 in  outward  form  and  internal  ftrudure.  It  is  fo  in 
 grafs.  Every  fingle  tendril  is  furnilhed  with  veffeis, 
 at  whofe  open  mouths  the  proper  juices  enter,  which, 
 fis  they  mount  upwards,  are  fecreted,  fo  that  thofe 
 which  are  proper  for  each  refpeftive  part,  are  conveyed 
 to  it ;  and  the  other  particles,  by  means  of  valves  and 
 other  contrivances  within  the  veffeis,  are  ffopped  and 
 turned  back.  The  fubftance  of  the  root  itfelf  is  of  three 
 forts,  the  cortical^,  or  bark,  the  woody  part,  and  the  pith. 
 Each  of  thcfe  has  its  veffeis  or  paffages,  differently  dif- 
 pofed, and  of  a  different  fize  and  make,  as  the  micro- 
 fcope  Ihews.  The  feed  itfelf  is  a  miracle  of  curiofity. 
 For  in  every  fingle  grain  the  ftamina  of  the  future  plant, 
 or  lather  of  the  plant  itfelf  in  miniature  is  dilpofed, 
 fo  that  the  growth  of  the  plant  is  only  the  unfolding  of 
 the  ftamina,  and  their  enlargement  by  the  addition  of 
 new  juices,  if  the  opinion  of  fome  naturalifts  be  well 
 founded,  viz.  that  in  the  ftamina  contained  in  a  feed, 
 there  are  alfo  contained  the  ftamina  of  the  plant  which 
 is  afterwards  to  fpring  from  that,  and  fo  on  for  ever, 
 this  increafes  the  wonder  infinitely. '  It  is  likewife  ob- 
 served, that  almoft  every  plant,  if  cut  off  above  the  root, 
 will  fend  out  nevv  branches,  leaves,  and  feeds  almoil 
 
 endleisly. 
 
^JKmivUge.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  177 
 
 endlefsly.  So  that  it  would  feem,  that  every  ftock  of 
 every  plant,  and  confequently  every  ftnlk  of  grafs,  as 
 well  as  every  {^^^^  contained  almoft  an  infinite  number 
 of  other  plaYits,  branches,  leaves,  andfo  forth,  in  minia- 
 ture. But  1  will  not  urge  this  too  far,  becaufe  there  is 
 another  hypothefis,  which  does  not  require  fuch  incon- 
 ceiveable  minuteneis  of  ftamina,  nor  their  being  thus 
 difpofed  olle  within  another,  without  end,  from  the 
 creation  of  the  firft  plant :  I  mean,  the  fuppofition  of 
 thofe  ftamina  floating  in  the  air,  in  infinite  numbers, 
 and  being  received  into  proper  matrices,  and  fo  frudli- 
 fying.  Be  this  as  it  will,  there  are,  as  we  have  feen^ 
 wonders  without  end  in  fo  defpicable  an  objed  as  a 
 pile  of  grafs.  After  all  that  has  been  faid,  there  may, 
 for  any  thing  we  know,  be  a  thoufand  times  more  un- 
 known of  the  internal  fubftance  or  flirudlure  of  a  pile  of 
 grafs.  We  know  not  how  two  particles  of  matter  come 
 to  adhere  to  cnc  another,  why  they  do  not  fall  afunder 
 like  grains  of  duft  or  fand.  We  know  not  how  the 
 particles  of  nourifhment  are  taken  into  the  veflels  of  the 
 root  of  a  plant  ;  how  they  are  carried  on  and  fecreted 
 every  one  to  its  proper  place  ;  what  it  is  in  the  makeof 
 the  particlesof  the  juice,  and  effluvia  exhaled  from  the 
 root  and  blade,  which  makes  them  tafte  or  fraell  dif- 
 ferently ;  what  difpofition  of  the  external  parts  makes 
 the  root  patt  appear  white,  and  the  blade  green,  and  fo 
 on.  Yet  this  fubjeft,  in  which  there  are  fo  many  curi- 
 ofities  known  to  us,  and  enough  of  inexplicable  difficul- 
 ties to  puzzle  all  the  philcfophers  of  ancient  and  modem 
 times  is  no  rarity,  but  it  is  every  Where  to  be  met  witji. 
 The  v/hole  earth  is  covered  with  it.  Whilft  every 
 iingle  pile,  of  which  there  may  be  fome  thoufands  in 
 every  fquare  foot  of  ground,  is  formed  with  all  the  ad- 
 rnirable  curiofity  and  exadlnefs  I  have  been  here  defcrib- 
 ing.  What  then  is  the  art  difplayed  in  all  the  various 
 and  nuraberlefs  plants  of  different  fpecies  which  cover 
 the  face  of  the  earth  ?  What  the  profufion  of  v>'ork« 
 manfliip  in  the  innumerable  multitudes  of  beafts,  birds, 
 fifties,  and  infeds,  whieh  inhabit  all  parts  of  the  earth 
 and  waters;  of  which  every  fingle  individual  difplays 
 wonders  of  inespreflible  power  and  inconceiveable  wif- 
 
178  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IT, 
 
 dom  beyond  number?  **  Great  and  manifold  are  thy 
 "  works,  O  Lord,  in  wifdom  haft  thou  made  them  all." 
 If  a  perfon  has  a  ftrong  genius  for  mathematical 
 learning,  it  will  be  natural  for  him  to  improve  himfelf 
 in  the  higher  parts  of  that  noble  fcience,  as  plain  and 
 fpherical  trigonometry,  conic  fedlions  and  fluxions. 
 But  it  does  not  appear  to  me  abfolutely  neceffary  to  the 
 idea  of  a  well-improved  mind,  that  a  perfon  be  mafter 
 of  thofe  abftrufe  parts  of  mathematics.  On  the  con- 
 trary, I  know  not,  whether  the  employing  a  great  deal 
 of  time  in  thofe  parts  of  fcience,  which  are  rather  fub- 
 lime  and  curious,  than  ufeful  in  life,  can  be  juftified  ; 
 at  leaft,  v^here  a  perfon  has  a  capacity  for  improving 
 himfelf  and  others  in  ufeful  knowledge.  On  the  other 
 hand,  it  muft  be  owned,  that  the  exerciling  the  genius 
 in  the  moft  difficult  parts  of  ftudy,  is  not  without  its 
 ufes,  as  it  tends  to  whet  the  capacity,  and  fharpen  the 
 faculties  of  the  mind,  which  may,  for  any  thing  we 
 know,  be  of  advantage  to  it,  in  fitting  it  for  the  fubiime 
 employments  of  future  ftates.  Add  to  this,  that  it  is 
 not  always  eafy  to  fay  what  is  altogether  ufelefs  in  fci- 
 ence. What  has  been  at  its  firft  difcovery  looked  upon  as 
 amere  curiofity,  has  often  been  found  afterwards  capable 
 of  being  applied  to  the  nobleft  ufes  in  fcience,  and  isi 
 life.  This  has  been  experienced  in  no  inftance  more 
 frequently  than  in  the  difcovery  of  mathematical  pro- 
 portions, Thofe  of  triangles  were  difcovered  before 
 they  were  found  to  be  of  fuch  important  ufefulnefs  in 
 menfuration  and  navigation ;  and  thofe  in  common 
 geometry,  in  trigonometry,  conies,  and  fluxions,  before 
 they  were  applied  to  aftronomical  calculations.  Nor 
 can  any  one  pronounce  with  certainty,  that  thofe  which 
 have  not  yet  been  applied  to  any  direct  ufe  for  improv- 
 ing fcience,  or  art,  never  will,  or  are  capable  of  it. 
 Upon  the  whole,  the  purfuit  of  any  ftudy,  however  it 
 may  feem  merely  curious,  rather  than  ufeful,  is  an  em- 
 ployment incomparably  more  noble  and  fuitable  to  the 
 dignity  of  human  life,  than  thofe  of  pleafure,  power,  or 
 riches.  Though  this  is  not  faying,  that  ftudy  is  the 
 fole  bufinefs  of  life,  or  that  it  may  not  be  carried  lengths 
 xnconiiftent  with  our  prefent  ft  ate. 
 
 For 
 
OfKiiowMge.)       HUMAN  NATURE.  179 
 
 For  inToroveinent  in  the  higher  mathematics,  IVoI' 
 fius''s  and  IVilfons  Trigonometry,  MuUer''s  or  Be  la 
 Hire's  Conic  i^diions^  Dittoii'sy  Simpfons,  or  Maclautins 
 Fluxions  may  be  (ludied. 
 
 At  laft  we  come  to  the  faramit  and  pinnacle  of  know- 
 ledge, the  iirmoit  reach  of  human  capacity,  I  mean  the 
 Ne-uL'tonian  philofophy.  This  fublime  of  fcience  is  what 
 Very  few,  perhaps  not  fix  in  an  age,  have  been  found 
 equal  to.  The  labours  of  that  prodigy  of  our  fpecies  ; 
 the  calculations  and  demonftrations  upon  which  he  has 
 founded  his  immortal  and  impregnable  ftrudure,  are 
 not  to  beinveftigated,  but  by  onepoHcifedof  the  quickeil 
 penetration,  the  mofl;  indefatigable  diligence,  lei  fine, 
 and  vacancy  of  mind.  There  are,  for  example,  forae 
 of  his  problems,  which  few  men  can  hold  out  to  go 
 through  ;  few  minds  being  capable  of  keeping  on  the 
 flretch  for  fo  long  a  time  as  is  necefPary  for  the  pur- 
 pofe.  It  will  therefore  be  in  vain  to  advife  readers  in 
 general  to  try  their  ftrength  in  this  Achilleaii  bow.  It 
 is  however,  poffibie  to  acquire  a  general  idea  of  his  phi- 
 lofophy from  PemhertorCs  and  Madauriii's  views  of  it. 
 They  who  would  go  farther,  muil  read  his  Principia 
 with  the  Jefuit's  Comment,  and  his  Optics, 
 
 I  will  here  give  a  lilt  of  books,  which  will  make  a 
 pretty  complete  and  ufeful  coliedion  upon  the  various 
 branches  of  natural  philofophy  and  mixt  mathematics. 
 Ray''s  Wifdom  of  God  in  the  creation.  Derhaiii's  Phy- 
 fico-theology.  Nature  difplayed.  Nieuwentyf s  Reli- 
 gious philofopher.  Bacoii's  and  Boyle^s  Works.  Lieu^ 
 ivenbo^k^s  AYCd.nu..  Adams'' s  Micrographia,  2ir\(\  Baker'' s 
 Employment  for  the  Microfcope.  Rafs,  Ruj'/ch^s,  and 
 Oefner^s  Hiftory  of  Animals.  ^Villu^bbuy sOrnkhologla, 
 Swammerdam  of  Infeds.  KeWs  and  Gravefande'' s  Phy- 
 fics.  Gravefande'' s,  Deja^^ulisr'' s,  and  Rowning''s  Expe- 
 rimental Philofophy.  Hiirs  Hiftory  of  Minerals  and 
 Foffils.  BlackwelPs  Herbal.  Martinis  Philoiophical 
 Grammar,  and  Philofophia  Britannica.  The  Trads 
 which  give  an  account  of  the  late  difcoveries  in  electri- 
 city. Hales^s  Statics.  Cotes's  Ilydroftatics  and  Pneu- 
 matics. MifcellaneaCuriofa.  Philofophicai  Tranfydions 
 abridged,  and  thofe  of  the  foreign  academies  of  fciences. 
 K  3  Miffcbcnbroek's 
 
v 
 
 iJo  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (BooVU 
 
 Mufchenhroek/ s  Phyfical  Effays.  KeiVs,  Win/low'' s,  and 
 Heifter''s  Anatomy.  Monro's  Ofteology.  Boerhaave' s 
 Oeconomia  Animalis,  B^ay,  Malphigbi^  Toiirnefort,  and 
 Sloan  of  Plants.  Keil's  and  Gregory''s  Allronomy. 
 Femherton^s  and  Maclaurin  s  Account  of  Sir  IJaac  NeW" 
 toil's  Difcoi-eries.  Sir  Ifaac's  Principia,  with  the  Jefuit's 
 Comment.  Dr.  Halley's,  Hiiygens's,  and  Flamjleacfs 
 Works.  IVhiJion's  Religious  Principles  of  Allronomy . 
 Sinitlfsy  Gregory's,  and  Sir  Ifaac  Newton's  Optics,  Boer^ 
 baave''s  Chemiftry.  To  which  add,  Harris''s  Lexicon 
 Technicum  ;  Chambers'' s  Dictionary  ;  or  the  Encyclo- 
 pedie  now  publilhing. 
 
 A  gentleman  of  fortune  and  leifure  will  do  well  to 
 furnifn  himfelf  with  a  few  of  the  principal  inftruraents 
 iifed  in  experimental  philofophy,  as  an  air-pump,  which 
 alone  will  yield  almoll  an  endiefs  variety  of  entertain- 
 ment ;  to  which  add  a  condenfing  engine ;  a  micro- 
 fcope,  with  the  folar  apparatus,  which  like  wife  is  alone 
 fufficient  to  fill  up  the  leifure  hours  of  a  life;  a  tele- 
 fcope  of  the  Gregorian  conllrudion*;  a  fet  of  prifms, 
 and  other  glafles  for  the  experiments  in  light  and 
 colours ;  a  fet  of  artificial  magnets ;  an  eledrical  ma- 
 chine \  and  a  pair  of  Mr.  NeaWs  patent  globes^ 
 
 SECT.    V. 
 
 Of  forming  a  Tq/le  in  polite  Learning  and  Arts, 
 
 TO  fay,  that  a  gentleman  has  attained  the  utmoft 
 perfedion  of  the  human  genius,  who  is  ignorant 
 of  the  politer  fciences  of  criticifm,  poetry,  oratory,  and 
 antiquities,  and  of  the  elegant  arts  of  painting,  mufic, 
 fculpture,  and  architecture,  would  undoubtedly  be  im- 
 proper. And  yet  it  may  juftly  be  affirmed,  that  a  very 
 moderate  Ikill  in  them  is  fufficient ;  as  that  kind  of 
 knowledge  is  at  beft  only  the  embelliffiraent,  not  the 
 fubltantial  excellence  of  a  charatHier.  Nor  can  it  be 
 denied,  that  many,  efpecially  men  of  fortune,  do 
 purfue  the  ftudy  of  thofe  elegances  to  lengths  incon- 
 lillent  with  the  fhortnefs  and  and  uncertainty  of  life, 
 
 and 
 
 *  The  befl:  and  largeft  inftruments  of  this  kind,  beyond  comparifoftj 
 that  have  ever  been  mude,  are  thofe  conltrufted  by  Mr,  Usrt  of  Sunj-Jlneh 
 )a  ths  SU'dfid^  Loth  s> 
 
OfKmvledge.)       HUMAN  NATURE.  jSi 
 
 with  the  awful  and  ferious  bufinefs  to  be  clone  in  it. 
 Solid  and  ufeful  knowledge,  efpecially  among  the  great, 
 gives  way  almoft  entirely  to  tafte.  And  even  of  that,  a 
 very  great  part  is  only  afFedation  and  cant,  rather  than 
 true  difcernment.  In  mufic,  for  example,  I  think  it 
 mull  he  owned,  that  there  are  few  civilized  nations,  in 
 which  there  is  fo  little  true  tafte,  as  in  England ;  the 
 proof  of  which  is,  the  extremely  fmall  number  of  our 
 country-men  and  women,  who  excel  either  in  perform- 
 ance or  compolition.  In  France  and  Italy,  on  the  con- 
 |:rary,  and  feveral  other  countries  of  Europe,  there  are 
 very  few  tovvns,  or  even  villages,  in  which  there  are 
 not  fome  able  artilts  in  mufic.  And  yet  v/e  know,  that 
 there  is  not  a  country  in  the  world,  in  which  muficians, 
 efpecially  foreigners,  are  fo  much  encouraged,  as  here. 
 This  cannot  be  afcrihed  to  our  natural  taile  for  mufic  ; 
 for  that  U'ould  appear  in  our  excelling  in  the  art.  It 
 muft  therefore  be  owing  to  an affecSlation  of  what  u-e  do 
 not  poffefs,  which  cofts  us  a  great  many  thoufands  a- 
 year,  and  mult  yield  but  very  little  enterrainment.  For 
 the  pleafure  a  perfon  receives  from  mulic,  or  any  of  the 
 other  beaux  arts,  is  proportionable  to  the  tafte  and  dif- 
 cernment he  has  in  thcra. 
 
 Perhaps,  the  fame  might  be  faid  of  fbme  other  ele- 
 gances, as  well  as  of  mulic.  But  I  fliall  only  in  gene- 
 ral add,  that  whoever  purfues  what  is  merely  ornamen- 
 tal, to  the  neglect  of  the  ufeful  bufinefs  of  life  ;  and, 
 inftead  of  confidering  fuch  things  only  as  ornaments 
 and  amufements,  makes  them  his  whole  or  chief  em- 
 ployment, does  not  understand,  nor  ad  up  to,  the  true 
 dignity  of  his  nature. 
 
 On  the  ftudy  of  claftical  learning  and  antiquities,  I 
 cannot  help  faying,  that  it  is  really  a  matter  of  no  fmall 
 concern,  to  fee  men  of  learning  ftraining  beyond  ail 
 bounds  of  fenfe  in  heaping  encomiums  on  the  great  wri- 
 ters of  antiquity,  which  there  is  reafon  to  think  thofe 
 great  men  would  blufti  to  read. .  To  hear  thofe  gentle- 
 men, one  would  imagine  the  ancients  ail  giants  in  know- 
 ledge, and  the  moderns  pigmies.  Whereas  it  is  much 
 more  probable,  that  the  antiquity  of  the  world  was  its 
 youth,  or  immature  age,  and  that  the  human  fpecies, 
 
 N  3  likq,. 
 
iSi  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IL 
 
 like  an  individual,  have  gradually  improved  by  length 
 of  time  ;  and,  having  the  advantage  of  the  inquiries  and 
 obfervations  of  the  pad  ages,  have  accordingly  profited, 
 by  them,  and  brought  real  and  properly  fcientific 
 Ivnowledge  to  heights,  which  we  have  no  reafon  to  ima- 
 gine the  ancients  had  any  conception  of.  The  whole 
 advantage  antiquity  feems  to  have  of  the  prefent  times, 
 as  far  as  we  know,  and  it  would  be  ft  range  if  we  fliould. 
 reafon  upon  what  v^e  do  not  know,  is  in  worksof  fancy. 
 The  ftyle  of  the  ancient  orators  and  poets  is  perhaps 
 fuperior  to  that  of  any  of  our  produdlions,  in  grandeur, 
 and  in  elegance.  Nor  is  it  any  wonder  it  fhould.  be  fo. 
 In  the  popular  governments  of  Grd'^^:^  and  Rome,  vvhere 
 almoft  every  point  was  to  be  gained  by  dint  of  elo- 
 quence, and  where  kings  were  clients  to  private  plea- 
 ders, it  was  to  beexpefled,  that  the  art  of  oratory  fliould 
 be  cultivated,  and  encouraged  to  the  utnioft. 
 
 The  very  found  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  gives  the 
 writings  in  thofe  languages  a  fweetnefs  and  majefty, 
 which  none  of  ourfeeble,  unmuiical  tongues  can  reach. 
 How  fnould  an  Engl^flj  or  French  poet  have  any  chance 
 of  equalling  the  produftions  of  thofe  who  wrote  in  a 
 language  which  exprelled  the  commonell  thoughts  with 
 more  pomp  of  found,  than  our  modern  tongues  Vvall  lend 
 to  the  moil  fubiime  conceptions  ? 
 
 Ion  d'apamcibomenos  prcffphe  podas  ohs  Achilleus,  HoM. 
 
 *'  The  fwift-footed  Achilles  anfwcred  him." 
 
 Here  is  more  grandeur  of  found  to  exprefs  almoft  no- 
 thing, than  Alilton  could  find  in  the  whole  c'ompafs  of 
 our  language  to  clothe  the  greateft  thoughts  that  per- 
 haps ever  entered  into  an  uninfpir^d  imagination.  For 
 what  is  there  in  the  Iliad,  ftript  of  the  majefty  of  the 
 Greek,  that  can  equal  the  following  hymn  to  the  Su- 
 preme Being,  fung  by  the  firft  parents  of  mankind  \i\ 
 innocence : 
 
 *'  Thefe  are  thy  gloripus  works,  Parent  of  good 
 "  Almighty  I  Thine  this  iir.ivei  Ihl  frame, 
 ♦'  Thus  wondrous  fair.     Tliyfelf  how  wonnrous  then  I 
 *  Unfpeakable  '.  who  fitt'ft  above  thefe  heav'iiSj 
 ^  ^«  T\)| 
 
Of  Knowledge.)        HUMAN  NATUTRE.  183 
 
 "  To  us  invidble,  or  dimly  feen 
 
 "  In  thefe  tliy  loweit  works.     Yet  thefe  declare 
 
 "  Thy  goodnefs  beyond  thought,  and  powV  divine, 
 
 '■'  Speak  ye,  who  belt  can  tell,  ye  Ions  of  light ! 
 
 "  Angels  !   for  ye  behold  him,  and  with  fongs 
 
 "  And  choral  fymphonies,  day  without  night, 
 
 "  Circle  his  throne  rejoicing.     Ye  in  heav'n  ! 
 
 *'  On  earth  join  all  ye  creatures,  to  extol, 
 
 "  Him  firlt,  him  lait,  him  midit,  and  without  end,"  ^c. 
 
 How  would  thefe  thoughts  Qiijie  in  Homer's  Greek  I 
 How  would  Longinus  have  celebrated  fuch  a  paffage  in 
 a  venerable  ancient  I  How  would  our  Daciers  and  our 
 Popes  have  celebrated  it  I  Let  us  not  therefore  be  im- 
 pofed  on  by  found  ;  but  while  we  pay  due  praife  to  an- 
 tiquity, let  us  not  refufe  it  to  fuch  of  the  moderns  as 
 have  deferved  it  even  in  thofe  arts,  in  which  the  an- 
 cients have  exhibited  their  utmoft  abilities. 
 
 But  though  it  fliould  be  confeffed,  that  the  ancient 
 poets,  orators,  and  fculptors  have  in  fome  refpeds  out- 
 done the  moderns  j  when  this  is  faid,  all  is  laid,  that 
 can  with  truth  be  affirmed  of  their  fuperiority  to  us. 
 For  in  mod  parts  of  folid  fcience,  they  were  mere 
 children  :  Their  phyliology  is  egregious  trifling,  and 
 groundlefs  hypothefis,  drawn  not  fo  much  from  nature, 
 as  from  fancy.  Their  theology  or  mythology  is  a  mix- 
 ture of  fenfe,  myftery,  fable,  and  impurity.  Their 
 ethics  are  well  enough  for  what  they  have  delivered, 
 But  it  is  a  ilrudure  without  connedion,  and  without 
 foundation.  Whoever  has  (ludied  Woollajton's  Reli- 
 gion of  Nature  delineated,  will  hardly  think  Arijiotle's 
 Ethics,  or  TuUfs  Offices,  worth  reading,  for  the  fake 
 of  improvement  in  real  and  fcientihc  knowledge  of  the 
 foundation  and  obligations  of  morality.  He  who  has 
 digefted  Dr.  Clark's  noble  work,  will  hardly  have  re- 
 courfe  to  Cicero,  Of  the  Nature  of  the  Gods,  for  jurt 
 ideas  of  the  Supreme  Being,  and  a  rational  fcheme  of 
 religion.  Who  would  name  fuch  philfophers  as  Pliny, 
 or  Julian,  with  Mr.  Boyle,  or  Mr.  Ray?  Who  would 
 think  of  comparing  Arijtoile^s  Logic  with  Mr.  Locke'' s, 
 or  Ptolemy'' s  Aftronomy  with  Sir  Ifaac.  Newton's  ? 
 There  are  many  whole  iciences  known  in  our  times,  of 
 ■\vhich  the  ancients  had  not  the  leall  fufpicion,   and  arts 
 
 N4  of 
 
1$4  THE  DIGNITY  OF  {Book  II 
 
 which  they  have  had  no  conception.  All  the  difcove- 
 lies  made  by  thofe  noble  inftruments,  the  telefcope,  the 
 jnicrofcope,  and  the  air-pump  ;  the  phcenomena  of 
 cledlricity ;  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  and  various 
 other  difcoveries  in  anatomy;  the  whole  theory  ofHght 
 and  colours;  almoft  all  that  is  known  of  the  laws  by 
 which  the  machine  of  the  world  is  governed  ;  the  me- 
 thods of  algebra  and  fluxions;  printing,  clocks,  the 
 compafs,  gunpoWder,  s^nd  I  knou'  not  how  .lAany  more, 
 are  the  produdions  of  the  induilry  and  fagacity  of  the 
 moderns.  It  is  therefore  very  unaccountable,  that 
 many  fludious  men  iliould  exprefs,  on  all  occafions,  fuch 
 •an  unbounded  and  unreafonable  admiration  of  the  an- 
 cients, merely  for  the  elegances  and  fublimities,  which 
 appear  in  their  works  of  fancy,  which  are  likewife  dif- 
 graced  in  many  places  by  a  trifling  and  childiQi  extra- 
 vagance, running  often  fo  far  into  the  marvellous,  as 
 quite  to  iofe  fight  of  the  probable.  Witnefs  Virgil* s 
 prophetical  harpies,  bleeding  twigs,  and  one-eyed  ^ro^- 
 dignagia?is ',  Homer'' si^tdiYmg  horfes,  fcolding  god-» 
 «leifes,  and  Jupiter  enchanted  with  Venus'' s  girdle ;  and 
 Ovid's  ftring  of  unnatural  and  monftrous  fidions  froni, 
 the  beginning  to  the  end  of  his  book  I  ■ 
 
 Whoever  may  be  difpofed  to  queftion  what  is  here 
 faid  as  a  peculiar  or  new  notion,  may  read  Mr.  Locke 
 on  the  Gondud  of  the  Underftanding,  and  Wottoii's  and 
 Baker^s  Reiieclions  on  Ancient  and  Modern  Learning; 
 there  he  Vv'iil  find  the  fubjedl  difcufled  in  a  more  copi- 
 ous manner,  than  the  bounds  of  this  treatife  would 
 allow. 
 
 It  is  therefore  very  necelTary,  that  in  cultivating  a 
 tafte,  people  take  care  to  value  the  ancients  only  for 
 what  is  truly  valuable  in  them,  and  not  to  prefer  them, 
 iiniverfaily  and  in  the  grofs,  to  the  moderns,  who,  by 
 the  advantage  of  fucceeding  to  the  labours  of  their  an- 
 ceftors,  have  acquired  incomparably  the  fuperiority  over 
 them  in  almoft  all  parts  of  real  knowledge  drawn  from 
 acStual  obfervation  ;  in  method  and  clofenefs  of  reafon- 
 ang;  in  depth  of  inquiry;  in  more  various  ways,  as 
 'well  as  more  compendious  methods  of  coming  at  truth ; 
 'r^nd;  in  general,  it.'  whatever  is  ufeful  for  improving  the 
 
 Vender* 
 
OfKmivUge.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  185 
 
 underftanding ;  advantages  as  much  fuperior  to  what 
 ferves  only  to  refine  the  imagination,  and  work  upon 
 the  pafllons,  as  it  is  of  more  confequence  that  a  man  re^ 
 ceive  improvement  in  true  knowledge,  than  that  he  pafs 
 his  life  in  a  pleating  dream. 
 
 Belides  the  ancient  hiftorians  mentioned  under  the 
 article  of  hi  (lory,  whoever  would  form,  his  tafte  upon 
 the  belt  models,  mull  be  in  fome  meafure  acquainted 
 with  the  Greek  poets,  as  Homer ^  Pindar^  Sophocles^  Eii^ 
 ripides,  CaUimachusy  Theocritus^  Ariflopbanes^  Anacreon, 
 Their  orators,  as  Demoflheues,  Ifocrates.^  ancl  MJchines^ 
 The  philofophers,  whofe  works  in  that  language  are 
 come  down  to  us,  are  to  be  looked  into,  not  fo  much 
 on  acco\int  of  their  fentiments,  of  which  above,  as  their 
 ftyle  and  manner.  The  chief  of  them  are,  Plato^  who 
 alfo  gives  an  account  of  the  philofophy  of /5'orra2^^j,  ^n- 
 Jiotlef  Xenophon,  Plutarch,  Epi^etiis,  LongimiSy  Jamhli- 
 chust  who  gives  an  account  of  Pythagoras,  Theopbrajlus^ 
 Hierocles,  JElian,.  To  thefe  may  be  added  Philo  Ju- 
 d(siis,  Diogenes  Laertius,  and  Alax.  Tyrius.  The  greateH 
 ancient  philofophers,  who  writ  in  Latin,  are  Cicero, 
 Pliny,  Seneca,  Lucretius,  ^lintilian,  Lucius  Apuleius,  andt 
 Boethius,  The  beft  Latin  poets  are  Virgil,  Horace,  Ter 
 fence,  Juvenal,  Perjius,  Plautus,  Lucretius^  Seneca  the 
 tragic  poet,  Martial,  Lucan,  StatiuSf  Aufonius^  and 
 Claudian, 
 
 Whoever  has  a  mind  to  look  into  the  Fathers,  after 
 having  got  a  little  acquaintance  with  what  is  afcribed 
 to  Barnabas,  Clement,  Hermas^  Ignatius,  and  Polycarp^ 
 and  with  the  remains  o^  Clemens  Alexandrinus,  Irceneus^ 
 Cyprian,  Yertidlian,  Juftin  martyr,  Origen,  Jerome,  Au- 
 gujiin,  Eufehius,  and  La6lantiu£,  or  as  many  of  them  as 
 he  can  conveniently  look  into,  may  reft  contented  with 
 what  he  will  have  gained  by  that  ftudy. 
 
 There  may  be  a  few  other  ancient  authors,  Greek  and 
 Latin,  which  a  gentleman  may  find  his  advantage  in 
 looking  into.  And  there  are  great  parts  of  raoft  of  thcfe 
 here  mentioned,  which  it  were  better  to  pafs  over. 
 There  are,  almoft  in  all  the  ancient  uninfpired  writers, 
 numberlefs  exceptionable  and  wrong-turned  fentiments. 
 
iS6  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  11. 
 
 of  which  the  judicious  reader's  difcernment  will  obviate 
 the  bad  efFeds. 
 
 Ut'efui  books  in  criticifm  are,  Hefychiui,  Snidas,  He- 
 dericiis's  Lexicon,  Scapula,  and  Conjiantine' s  Lexicon  ; 
 Stephens's  Thefauriis ;  yf/«/i£'or/Z>V  Didionary;  Potter's 
 Greek,  and  KenneCs  Roman  Antiquities  ;  Montfancon' s 
 PalcEOgraphia  Grtrca,  and  Antiquite  Expliquee -^  the  va- 
 rious authors  collected  in  Gn^vius^s  and  Grorovius^s 
 Thefaurus  ;  in  Sallerigre^s  No-vus  Thefauriw,  in  Gruter^s 
 Fax  Arthcm;  end  a  multitude  of  others  enumerated  by 
 Wajje  in  his  Memorial  concerning  the  Dejiderata  in 
 Learning,  printed  in  Bibliotheca  Literaria,  Lond,  \']ii. 
 No.  iii.  Among  the  ancients,  Arijtotle,  Longinus,  and 
 ^dntilian.  Among  the  French,  Dacier  and  Bojfit. 
 And  among  the  EngliJJj,  Addifon  and  Fope  are  good 
 critics. 
 
 1  cannot  here  help  making  a  remark  upon  the  man- 
 ner of  moll  of  thofe  profefTed  critics,  who  undertake  to 
 tranllate,  comment,  anfwer,  or  write  remarks  upon  au- 
 thors. Thefe  gentlemen  feem  generally  to  run  greatly 
 into  extremes  either  in  praiiing  or  blaming.  I  own  I 
 cannot  perfuade  myielf  that  Homer,  for  example,  un- 
 derflood  the  anatomy  ol  the  human  body  as  perfedly 
 as  Boerbaave,  merely  from  the  circumflance  of  his 
 wounding  his  heroes  in  fo  many  diiierent  parts.  Nor 
 can  I  think  that  Mr.  Chambers  could  have  extruded  his 
 circle  of  the  arts  and  fciences  out  of  the  Iliad  and 
 OdyiTey,  even  with  the  help  oi Popeh  and  Bacier^s  notes 
 ijito  the  bargain.  On  the  other  hand,  I  cannot  help 
 thinking  that  there  is  fome  of  the  genuine  fpirit  of  poe- 
 try in  Sir  Richard  Blackmore^ s  works,  notwithftanding 
 ■what  the  fatirical  Dean  Swift  has,  in  the  bitternefs  of 
 his  wit,  faid  againft  him.  Nor  does  it  clearly  appear  to 
 me  that  all  the  heroes  in  the  Dunciad  deferve  a  place  in 
 the  lift  of  votaries  of  the  goddefs  of  Dullnefs. 
 
 I  have  made  this  remark  for  the  fake  of  taking  occa- 
 lion  to  caution  readers  not  to  let  themfelves  be  milled 
 by  critics  or  commentators  ;  but,  after  endeavouring  to 
 fix  a  fet  of  rational,  clear,  and  indifputable  marks, 
 whereby  to  judge  of  the  real  excellences  or  blemiflies 
 
 of 
 
Ofjimivledge.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  1I7 
 
 of  tlie  works  they  read,  whether  ancient  or  modern,  to 
 read  the  critics,  but  to  ufe  their  own  judgmer^t. 
 
 The  bed  Engli/h  poets  are  Spencer ^  Milton^  Shakefpeary 
 Waller,  Rowe,  Addijon,  Pope. 
 
 I  mention  only  thofe  whofe  writings  are  generally  in- 
 nocent. Wit  or  genius,  when  applied  to  the  corrupting 
 or  debauching  the  mind  or  manners  of  the  reader,  ought 
 to  be  doomed  to  infamy  and  oblivion.  And  it  is  the 
 difgrace  of  our  country  and  religion,  that  fuch  fluff  as 
 the  greateft  parts  of  the  works  of  a  Dryden,  or  a  Congreve^ 
 and  fuch  like,  fliould  be  in  print. 
 
 Among  the  French  there  are  feveral  good  writers  in 
 the  Belles  Lettres,  as  Corneille  and  Racine,  Rollin,  Da- 
 cier,  Fenelon,  Boileau,  and  Moi'iere,  the  beft  writer  of 
 comedy  who  has  fiouriflied  (ince  Terence ;  his  charac- 
 ters being  all  well  drawn,  his  moral  always  good,  and 
 his  language  chafte  and  decent. 
 
 To  acquire  a  tafte  m  paintmg,  fculpture,  and  archi- 
 tecture, travel  is  the  molt  effedual  means.  But  fuch, 
 whofe  convenience  it  does  not  fuit  to  go  abroad,  may 
 fee  fome  fmall  collections  of  valuable  paintings  and  lla- 
 tues  in  our  own  country,  and  may  with  advantage  read 
 on  painting  and  defign,  Harris,  Du  Bos,  Ricbardfon, 
 Frefnoy,  Lairejfe,  the  Jefuit's  Art  of  Perfpective,  Des 
 Files,  Roma  Illujtrata,  Da  Vinci,  Gravejunde,  and  Dit- 
 ton  on  Perfpective. 
 
 On  architecture,  Palladia,  De  Chambray,  Felihien, 
 Sehajiian,  Le  Clerc^  Perrault,  Freart,  and  Evelyn.  And 
 on  ilatuary,  Alberti  and  Richard/on. 
 
 SECT.    Y\. 
 
 Of  Travel. 
 
 THEP.E  are  three  countries,  of  which  it  may  be  an 
 advantage  to  a  gentleman  of  fortune  to  fee  a  little; 
 I  mean  Holland,  France,  and  Italy.  The  firft,  with 
 a  view  to  commerce  and  police  ;  the  fecond  to  the  ele- 
 gance of  life  ;  and  the  lall  to  curiofities  in  art,  ancient 
 and  modern. 
 
 There  is  a  pedantry  in  travel,  as  well  as  other  accom- 
 plifhments.     And  where  there  is  not  a  dired  view  to 
 
 real 
 
J 8  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  II. 
 
 real  improvement,  a  great  deal  of  time  and  money  may 
 be  very  fooliflily  fpent  in  rambling  over  the  world,  and 
 ftaring  at  ftrange  fights. 
 
 In  order  to  reap  benefit  from  travel,  it  is  abfolutely 
 neceffary  that  a  gentleman  know  well  his  own  country 
 before  he  fets  out;  that  nothing  he  may  meet  with  may 
 be  llrange  to  him,  but  what  is  peculiar  to  the  place  he 
 travels  through,  by  which  means  he  may  fave  himfelf  a 
 great  deal  of  otherwife  loft  labour.  This  will  alfo  en- 
 able him  to  determine  immediately  in  what  particulars 
 our  own  country  has  the  advantage  of  foreign  parts,  and 
 the  contrary.  It  will  alfo  be  neceflary,  that  he  make 
 himfelf  mafterj,  before  he  fets  out,  of  as  much  of  the 
 knowledge  of  foreign  countries,  and  what  may  be  wor- 
 thy of  his  attention  in  them,  as  can  be  had  in  books,  or 
 converfation  with  thofe  who  have  travelled,  by  which 
 means  he  will  go  properly  prepared  to  every  place  and 
 every  obje(51.  A  correfpondence  with  men  of  abilities 
 and  intereft  in  the  places  one  is  to  go  to,  ought  alfo  to 
 be  eftablilhed,  before  he  fets  out,  that  no  time  may  be 
 loft  in  finding  out  fuch  after  his  arrival. 
 
 The  principal  objeds  of  inquiry  of  a  traveller  are 
 evidently  the  charaders  and  manners  of  different  na- 
 tions, their  arts  of  government,  connexions,  and  inte- 
 refts,  the  advantages  or  difadvantages  of  different  coun- 
 tries, as  to  adminiflration,  police,  commerce,  and  the 
 reft,  with  the  ftate  of  literature  and  arts,  and  the  re- 
 mains of  antiquity.  An  account  of  what  one  has  ob- 
 ferved  in  each  different  country,  with  the  remarks 
 which  occurred  upon  the  fpot,  ought  to  be  conftantly 
 kept.  . 
 
 Nothing  fets  forth  to  view  more  confpicuoufty  the 
 difference  between  a  young  man  of  fenfe  and  a  fool, 
 than  travel.  The  firft  returns  from  foreign  parts  im- 
 proved in  eafinefs  of  behaviour,  io  modefty,  in  freedom 
 of  fentiment,  and  readinefs  to  make  allowances  to  thofe 
 who  differ  from  him,  and  in  ufeful  knowledge  of  men 
 and  manners.  The  other  brings  back  with  him  a  laced 
 coat,  a  fpoiled  conftitution,  a  gibberifli  of  broken  French 
 and  Italian^  and  an  awkward  imitatipn  of  foreign  ge- 
 jftures. 
 
■0/ Knowledge.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  i^ 
 
 One  good  confequence  of  an  Englijh  gentleman's 
 having  feen  other  countries,  if  he  has  any  underfland- 
 ing,  will  be,  his  returning  home  more  than  ever  difpofed 
 to  enjoy  his  own.  For  whoever  rightly  underllands 
 wherein  the  true  happinefs  of  a  nation  confifts,  will  ac- 
 knowledge, that  thefe  highly-favoured  lands,  were  they 
 covered  ten  months  in  the  year  with  fnow,  and  boafted 
 neither  tree  nor  flirub,  v/ould  have  incomparably  the 
 advantage  of  Italy^  with  her  orange  groves,  her  breath- 
 ing ftatues,  and  her  melting  ftrains  of  mufic  ;  o^ France, 
 with  all  her  gaudy  finery  and  outfide  elegance ;  and  of 
 Spain,  with  her  treafures  from  the  New  World.  Who 
 would  compare  with  happy  Britain,  a  country,  in  which 
 even  all  thefe  united,  but  which  was  deprived  of  that 
 one,  that  firll  of  bleffings,  the  glory  of  Human  Nature, 
 without  which  life  is  but  a  lingering  death  I  I  mean,  the 
 ineflimable  privilege  of  enjoying  in  peace  whatever 
 Heaven  has  lent,  of  inquiring  freely  into  facred  truth^ 
 and  of  worfhipping  the  Almighty  Father  of  All  in  fin- 
 cerity  and  fimplicity,  according  to  the  didates  of  con- 
 fcience,  unbiafled  and  unterrified  by  dragoons,  by  racks, 
 and  fires,  and  mercilefs  inquifitors?  , 
 
 SECT.   VIL 
 
 Gf  the  comparative  Importance  of  the  various  Branches  of 
 Knowledge  refpedively,  and  with  regard  to  different 
 Ranks  and  Stations, 
 
 WE  have  thus  taken  a  curfory  view  of  fcience^ 
 and  feen  what  is  to  be  ftudied  and  learned,  in 
 order  to  acquire  the  diftinguifhed  and  rare  charader  of 
 a  man  of  general  and  univerfal  knowledge.  To  be 
 completely  mafter  of  every  one  of  the  branches  I  have 
 here  treated  of,  only  as  far  as  they  are  already  known,! 
 is  what  no  one  man  ever  will  be  capable  of,  much  lefs 
 of  improving  them  by  new  difcoveries  and  additions  o£ 
 his  own.  But  a  man  of  fine  natural  parts,  a  ftrong  con- 
 flitution,  a  turn  to  application,  an  eafy  fortune^  a  vacant 
 mind,  and  who  has  had  the  advantage  of  an  early  in- 
 trodudion,  in  a  free  and  rational  manner,  into  the  prin- 
 ciples of  the  various  parts  of  knowledge,  and  of  a  kt  of 
 
 learned 
 
ipo  '    tHE  DIGNITY  OF  (Boot:  XL 
 
 learned  and  communicative  friends,  and  of  travel;  fuch 
 a  perfon  may,  in  the  courfe  of  a  life,  acquire  a  mafterly 
 I^novvledge  of  the  fundamental  and  principal  parts  of 
 fcience,  fo  as  to  apply  tnem  with  eafe  and  readinefs  to 
 his  occalions  for  entertaining  and  inrtructing  others,  as 
 well  as  enriching  and  aggrandizing  his  own  mind,  and 
 perfecting  his  whole  charader.  Such  a  perfon  may  alio 
 improve  fome  particular  parts  of  knowledge  by  his  fa- 
 gacity  and  induftry. 
 
 To  confider  only  one's  own  entertainment  and  ad- 
 vantage, one  ought  rather  to  defire  a  general  knowledge 
 .  in  a  variety  of  ways,  than  to  carry  any  one  particular 
 fcience  to  great  lengths.  For  the  advantage  of  learn- 
 ing, the  improver  of  a  fingle  art  or  fcience  is  the  moil 
 valuable  man,  though  he  may  not  be  at  all  a  completely-^ 
 accompliihed  charadter. 
 
 The  moil  important  of  all  fciences,  is  ethics,  with 
 \\'hatever  is  conneded  with  them,  as  theology,  hiflory, 
 the  theory  of  government,  and  the  like.  Next  to  thefe 
 phyiiology  at  large,  or  whatever  comes  under  the  head 
 of  pure  and  mixed  mathematics.  Inferior  to  thefe  in 
 importance  are  the  politer  arts  of  poetry,  painting,  archi-- 
 tedure,  and  the  reft.  And  to  polTefs  ever  fo  perfed  a 
 knowledge  of  languages  only,  1  ftiould  reckon  the  loweft 
 pitch  of  learning. 
 
 For  perfons  of  the  mercantile  ranks  of  life,  the  Latin 
 and  French  languages,  writing,  arithmetic,  and  mer- 
 chants' accounts,  geography,  hiftory,  and  the  theory  of 
 commerce,  are  the  indilpenfable  branches  of  learning. 
 They  may  purfue  the  others  to  what  lengths  their  cir- 
 cumftances  and  leifure  will  allow. 
 
 To  accomplilh  a  gentleman  for  the  bench,  or  for  the 
 employment  of  a  chamber-counfellor,  a  perftd  know- 
 ledge of  the  theory  of  government,  and  foundations  of 
 fociety,  is  indifpenfably  nece^Tary.  To  which  mull  be 
 added  an  immenfe  apparatus  of  j^nowledge  of  the  leve- 
 ral  fpecies  of  law  (which  in  England  is  the  moft  volu- 
 minous and  unweildy  of  all  ftudies ;  our  law  being,  to 
 the  (hame  of  juftice,  a  chaos,  not  an  univerfe)  and  almoft 
 of  every  thing  elle,  about  which  mankind  have  any 
 connedion  or  intercourfe  with  one  another.     As  I  can- 
 
 not 
 
OfKnonvledge.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  jgi, 
 
 not  fee  the  bufinefs  of  pleading  at  the  bar,  in  any  other 
 light  than  that  of  a  mifchievous  invention,  calculated 
 wholly  for  the  purpofe  of  difguifing  truth,  and  altoge- 
 ther incapable  of  being  applied  to  any  honelt  purpofe, 
 (for  truth  wants  no  colouring)  1  fliall  therefore  fay  no- 
 thing farther  on  the  head  of  law. 
 
 The  phylician  ought  to  be  furnifhed  with  a  perfed: 
 knowledge  of  the  whole  body  of  phyfiology.  The 
 main  pillars,  on  which  he  is  to  erect  his  ftruclure,  are 
 anatomy,  chemiftry,  and  botany.  But  the  abiell  and 
 mod  fuccefsful  of  the  faculty  have  always  acknowledged, 
 that  experience  is  the  only  fure  foundation  for  practice  ; 
 and  have  advifed  Undents  in  that  faculty,  rather  to 
 negled:  all  other  books,  than  thofe,  which  contain  the 
 hiftory  of  difeafes,  and  methods  of  cure,  delivered  by 
 thofe  who  have  been  eminent  in  the  therapeutic  art. 
 
 As  for  divines,  I  cannot  help,  with  great  fubmiffion, 
 remarking,  that  there  is  no  order  of  men  whatever, 
 whofe  ftudies  and  inquiries  ought  to  be  more  uaiverfal 
 and  extenlive.  Philological  learning  has,  in  my  hum- 
 ble opinion,  been  too  much  honoured  in  being  regarded 
 as  ahnoft  the  only  neceflliry  accomplifliment  of  the 
 clergy.  To  form  the  important  character  of  a  teacher  of 
 Sacred  Truth,  a  difpenfer  of  Divine  Knowledge  ;  what 
 fuperior  natural  gifts,  what  noble  improvements  are  not 
 necelTary,  in  our  times,  when  the  miraculous  powers, 
 by  which  Chriltianity  was  firil  eftablifhed,  have  ceafed  ! 
 If  it  be  the  important  bulinefs  of  that  fiicred  order  of 
 men  to  labour  for  the  improvement  of  Human  Nature, 
 it  feema  highly  neceiTary,  that  they  perfedlly  underftand 
 Human  Nature.  If  the  reformation  oi  mankind  be 
 their  province,  they  ought  to  be  acquainted  with  the 
 ways  of  men,  as  they  are  to  be  learned  from  hiftory, 
 and  by  converfation.  The  prevailing  vices  of  the  times; 
 the  hindrances  to  amendment;  the  current  errors  in 
 opinion ;  the  fecret  fprings  of  the  mind,  by  which  it  is 
 worked  to  good  or  bad  purpofes ;  the  innocent  ftrata- 
 gems,  by  which  mankind  are  to  be  won,  firft  to  lilten 
 to,  and  then  to  follow  advice  ;  the  gentle  arts  of  touch- 
 ing their  paiiions,  and  ading  upon  their  minds,  in  fucli 
 a  manner  as  will  iuit  their  various  cafts  and  inclinations; 
 4     ■  thefe 
 
i^i  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  It 
 
 thefe  ought  to  be  fo  thoroughly  underftood  by  a  divine, 
 that  he  may,  both  in  the  pulpit,   and  in  converfation, 
 (by  which  laft,  he  may  gain  as  many,  or  perhaps  more 
 profelytes  to  virtue,  than  any  way)  be  completely  fur- 
 nifhed  for  the  inltrudlion  and  reformation  of  mankind. 
 The  works  of  nature  hold  forth  diftinclly  the  glorious 
 Author  of  Nature.     That  knowledge  ought  therefore 
 to  be  thought  a  neceffary  part  of  the  learning  of  the 
 facred  difpenfers  of  religion,  fince  juft  iiotions  of  God 
 are  the  foundation  of  true  religion.     To  enter  deeply 
 into  the  profound  fenfe  and  noble  beauties  of  Scripture, 
 a  confiderable  knowledge  of  the  languages,  in  which 
 the  facred  books  were  penned,  is  abfolutely  neceffary, 
 For  the  true  idea  of  preaching,  is  making  mankind  ac- 
 quainted with  Divine  Revelation,  as   it  ftands  in  the 
 Bible,  from   which  every  fingle  dodlrine  or  precept,  to 
 be  communicated  to  the  people,  is  to  be  drawn,  and 
 from  no  other  fountain  whatever.    It  is  therefore  greatly 
 to  be  wiflied,  that  the  too-prevalent  cuftom  of  taking 
 VL  detached  paffage  of  Scripture  as  a  motto,  and  de- 
 claiming upon  the  fiibje^l   from  the  preacher's  own 
 funds,  were  changed  for  a  judicious  pradical  comment 
 upon  a  connedted  portion  of  Holy  Writ,  in  fuch  a.  man- 
 ner, that  the  audience  might  in  time  comprehend  the 
 general  fcherae  of  Pvcvelation,  and  to  read  the  Scriptures 
 with  underltanding,  fo  as  to  judge  for  themfelves.     To 
 be  duly  qualified  for  this,  a  very  great  apparatus  of  cri- 
 tical learning,  and  knov;ledge  of  Oriental  Antiquity, 
 and  Hiftory,  civil  and  ecciefiaftic,  is  neceffary.     A  tho- 
 rough knowledge  of  the  obligations  of  morality  being 
 abfolutely  neceffary  to  a  teacher  of  virtue,  it  is  required, 
 1:hat  he  be  a  matter  in  the  fcience  of  ethics.     And,   as 
 much  more  is  to  be  done  with  mankind  by  affedling 
 their  paffions,   than  by  a  cool  addrefs  to  their  reafoii 
 (though  truth  ought  to  be  the  bafis  of  the  pathetic), 
 the  principles  of  oratory  are  to  be  well  undeiflood  by  a 
 preacher.     Nor  ought  ''the   embellilhments  of  delivery 
 to  be  negledled,  as  (I  cannot  help  adding  with  concern), 
 they  are  to  a  ffiameful  degree.     For  while  the  mock- 
 feero  of'the  theatre  lludies  how  to  give  the  utmoft  force 
 3  of 
 
Of  Knowledge.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  193 
 
 of  utterance  to  'every  fyllable  of  the  fuliian  rant,  which 
 makes  the  bulk  of  our  ftage  entertainments,  the  vener- 
 able explainer  of  the  Divine  will  to  mankind  treats  of 
 the  beauty  of  virtue,  the  deformity  of  vice,  the  excel- 
 lences of  a  religion  which  has  God  himfelf  for  its  author, 
 the  endlefs  joys  of  heaven,  and  the  hideous  punifhrnents 
 of  hell,  and  all  in  a  manner  fo  unmoved  and  unmoving, 
 that,  while  the  actor  becomes  the  jeal  cbarader  he  re- 
 prefents,  and  commands  every  paffion  at  his  pleafure, 
 the  preacher  can  hardly  gain  attention  ;  hardly  feems 
 himfelf  (if  we  did  not  know  it  otherwife)  to  believe 
 his  own  dodrines,  or  to  care  whether  his  audience  do, 
 or  not. 
 
 But  to  return  ;  there  is  fcarce  any  branch  of  know- 
 ledge which  does  not,  one  way  or  other,  add  a  confirm- 
 ation to  revealed  religion.  Which  fliews,  that  if  it  were 
 poffible  for  a  clergyman  to  mafter  the  whole  circle  of 
 the  fciences,  he  would  find  ufe  and  advantage  from  his 
 acquifitions.  And  in  converfatidn,  what  an  afcendant 
 would  not  a  general  knowledge  of  arts,  of  trade,  of  the 
 various  ways  of  life,  give  a  reformer  of  manners  over 
 mankind,  for  their  advantage,  when  he  could  enter 
 into  their  ways,  and  deal  with  them  upon  their  own 
 terms  ?    . 
 
 Confidering  the  variety  of  requifites  for  completely 
 accompliChing  a  divine,  one  cannot  help  faying,  with 
 the  apoftle,  "  Who  is  fufficient  for  thele  things  ?"  But 
 be  rt  at  the  fame  time  obferved,  and  let  this  work,  -if  it 
 fhould  remain,  inform  pofterity,  that,  by  the  confefiion 
 of  all  fober  and  judicious  perfons,  and  to  the  confufiorl 
 of  the  unthinking  oppofers  of  religion,  and  its  dilpenfers, 
 ino  period,  fince  the  firft  ages  of  the  church,  could  boal{ 
 a  fet  of  clergy  of  all  ranks  and  denominations  fupeiior 
 to  thofe  oi  Britain  at  this  prefent  time,  either  in  hum.an 
 learning,  in  knowledge  of  Scripture,  or  fandity  of  man- 
 ners. Which  things  being  fo,  what  words  fliall  be 
 found  equal  to  the  atrocioufnels  of  their  guilt,  who  have 
 it  in  their  power,  but  will  not  take  the  trouble,  to  re- 
 move from  off  the  necks  of  the  clergy  the  galling  yoke 
 of  fubfcription  to  articles,  creeds,  and  confefllons,  the 
 impoffions  of  men,  in  many  particulars  unintelligible,  ia 
 
 Q  more 
 
194  ^HE  D-IGNITY  OF  (BooklL 
 
 more  incredible,  and  in  all  fuperfluous ;  if  Holy  Scrip- 
 ture be,  as  declared  in  the  articles  of  the  church  of 
 England,  the  only,  and  the  fufficient  rule  of  faith. 
 
 The  Hebre^v  original,  and  Septuagint  tranflation  of 
 the  Old  Tellarnent,  the  New  in  the  original  Gr^^^/^,  with 
 Beza's  Latin  ;  and  Taylor'' s  Hebrew  Concordance,  and 
 Schmidius''s  Greek,  are  the  foundation  of  a  clergyman's 
 library. 
 
 Some  of  the  bePt  commentators  on  Scripture,  are 
 Erafmus,  Beza,  Grotius,  and  the  authors  in  the  collection 
 called  Critici  Saeri,  abridged  in  Poolers  Synopojis.  The 
 works  of  the  following  writers  are  alfo  valuable,  viz, 
 Mede^  Patrick,  Hammond,  the  Fratres  Polonii,  VorJlius.y 
 Rapbelius,  Eljner,  Boi,  Calmet,  Wbiiby,  Ai?iJworth,  New- 
 ton,  Locke,  Clarke,  Pyle,  Pierce,  Taylor,  Benfon,  Lowinani 
 to  which  add  Eortuita  Sacra  j  Knatchbidl  on  Select 
 Texts,  and  many  more. 
 
 Befides  the  books  mentioned  under  the  heads  of  po- 
 lite learning,  philofophy,  and  other  parts  of  know- 
 ledge, which  no  gentleman  ought  to  be  without,  and 
 beiidcs  thofe  recommended  under  the  articles,  ethics, 
 and  church-hiftory,  the  following  ought  by  any  m.eans 
 to  have  a  place  in  the  lludy  of  every  divine  ;  being 
 the  bell  helps  for  understanding  thofe  parts  of  knowt 
 ledge,  which  are  to  him  cflential,  viz.  Jofeplms ;  Philo 
 Judceus ;  Stilling  fleet'' s  Origines  Sacrae;  Prideaiix's,  and 
 Sbuckford''  s  Connections ;  Speiicer  on  the  Law-s  oiih^Jeit'Sf 
 Grotius'' s,  Locke'' s,  Conybeare''  &,  Leland''  s  Jenkins' s,  FoJ}er''s, 
 Benfori  s,  Lardner  s,  Lyttletoii's,  l^'tjTs,  DuchaPs  Jortin''s, 
 and  Chandle7-''s  Defences  of  Chnftianity  ;  Clarke  on  Na- 
 tural and  Revealed  Religion ;  Butler'' s  Analogy ;  Rymer^s 
 Reprefentarion  of  Revealed  Religion  ;  Millar'' s  Hiflory 
 of  the  Propagation  of  Chriftianity  ;  Law^s^  Edwards's, 
 and  JVatts''s  Surveys  of  the  Divine  Difpenfations,  and 
 Revelation  examined  with  candor. 
 
 Jt  is  with  no  fmall  pleafure  that  all  fincere  lovers  of 
 truth  obferve  the  greatelt  and  bell  of  men,  in  our  later 
 and  more  improved  times,  bravely  afferting  the  noble  and 
 raanly  liberty  of  rejeding  hypothefes  in  philofophy,  and 
 fyllems  in  religion;  and  daring  to  appeal,  from  conjec- 
 
Of  Knowledge.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  195 
 
 ture  in  the  former,  and  human  authority  in  the  latter, 
 to  the  vv'orks  of  God  in  the  natural  world,  and  his  word 
 in  Scripture,  the  only  pure  and  uncorrupted  fountains, 
 from  whence  the  candid  and  inquifitive  mind  may  draw 
 the  wholefome  ftream  of  unfophifticated  knowledge. 
 That  a  worm  of  the  earth  fhould  pretend  to  impofe 
 lipon  his  fellow-creature  the  poor  invention  of  his  trou-, 
 'bled  fancy  for  the  facred  truth  of  God,  while  the  blelTed 
 volume  of  Divine  Revelation  itfelf  lies  open  to  every 
 eye,  is  a  degree  of  prefumption,  which  could  fcarce 
 have  been  expected.  And  yet  it  is  notorious,  that,  by 
 means  of  human  interpofition,  the  Divine  fcheme  has, 
 efpecially  in  one  church,  been  fo  egregioufly  perverted, 
 as  to  be  well  nigh  defeated  of  its  gracious  intention. 
 But  all  focieties,  who  have  in  any  degree  infringed  the 
 freedom  of  inquiry,  have  violated  truth,  and  injured 
 the  caufe  of  religion.  Nor  only  they,  who  have  had 
 power  to  back  with  threatenings  and  punifhments  their 
 own  invented  and  impofed  doftrines,  but  all  vvho  have 
 made  Holy  »Scripture  a  fubjeft  of  party-zeal,  and  have 
 loaded  the  world  with  fyftems  piled  on  fyltems,  and 
 confounded  the  underftandings  of  mankind  with  fubtle 
 diftindtion,  and  volumnious  controverfies,  are  to  be  con- 
 ^dered  as  nuifances  in  the  world  of  letters,  and  their 
 works  to  be  left  a  prey  to  the  book-worm.  A  clergy- 
 man has  no  occafion  to  crowd  his  library  with  fyftema- 
 tic  or  polemic  lumber.  Such  authors  may  diftradl  his 
 underftanding-,  butwill  not  enlighten  it.  If  he  cannot  iq 
 the  Sacred  books,  with  the  help  of  the  beil  commenta- 
 tors, read  the  truth  of  God,  he  will  not  find  it  in  hu- 
 man fyftems  and  controverfies. 
 
 People  of  fortune  are  peculiarly  inexcufable,  if  they 
 negledl  the  due  improvement  of  their  minds  in  the  moll; 
 general  and  extenfive  manner.  And  yet  it  is  to  be  la- 
 mented, that  no  rank  is  more  deficient  in  this  reipe^l 
 than  that  of  the  rich  and  great.  That  they,  who  pre- 
 tend fo  fet  themfelves  at  the  head' of  the  world,  fhould 
 be  obliged  to  ow^n  theuifelves  generally  inferior  to  thofe 
 ihey  call  their  inferiors  in  the  very  accomplifhments 
 which  give  the-moft  jiift  pretenfionstofuperiority  I  What 
 -caji  be  more  fiiameful.l  The  man  of  bufinefs  may  plea4 
 
 0%  M 
 
i9<5  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  11. 
 
 for  his  excLife,  that,  he  has  wanted  the  itecefTary  leifure 
 for  improving  himfelf  by  ftudy  ;  the  man  of  narrow 
 fortune,  that  he  could  not  go  to  the  expence  of  educa- 
 tion, books,  and  travel ;  but  v^^hat  can  a  lord  plead  in 
 excafe  for  his  ignorance,  except  that  he  thought  him- 
 felf in  duty  bound  to  wafte  his  time,  and  his  fortune, 
 upon  wenches,  horfes,  dogs,  pbyers,  fidlers,  and  flatterers? 
 
 The  proper  and  peculiar  ftudy  of  a  perfon  of  high 
 rank  is  the  knowledge  of  the  intereft  of  his  country. 
 But  a  man  of  condition  ought  to  be  ignorant  of  no  part 
 of  ufeful  or  ornamental  knowledge. 
 
 J  will  conslude  what  I  have  to  fay  on  the  feveral  ranks 
 of  life,  and -the  peculiar  and  indifpenfable  fcientific  ac- 
 Gom.plifhments  of  each  refpedively,  by  adding,  what  can- 
 not be  too  often  repeated,  That  a  perfed:  knowledge  of  mo- 
 rality and  Cbriftianity  is  the  nobleft  endowment  of  every* 
 man  and  woman  of  every  rank  and  order.  A  ftrong 
 and  thorough  fenfe  of  the  abfolute  neceffity  of  univerfal 
 virtue  and  goodnefs,  as  the  only  means  of  happinefs, 
 ought  to  be  worked  into  the  underftanding,  the  will, 
 and  tvtiy  faculty  of  every  rational  mind  in  the  univerfe. 
 
 SECT.    VIIT. 
 
 Mifcellaneous'  Caufions-  and  Dlredlians  for  the  Conduct  of 
 
 Study, 
 
 WILL  add  to  w^hat  T  have  faid  on  that  part  of  the 
 Dignity  of  Life,  which  conlilts  in  the  improvement 
 of  the  mind  by  knowledge,  a  few  brief  remarks  chiefly 
 on  the  errors  which  people  commonly  run  into  in  ftudy, 
 Avhich  are  the  caufes  of  their  failing  of  the  end  they 
 have  in  view. 
 
 Firft,  reading,  or  rather  running  through,  a  multi- 
 tude of  books,  without  choice  or  diftindion,  is  not  the' 
 way  to  acquire  real-  improvement  in  knowledge.  It  is 
 only  w4iat  we  digeft,  and  underlland  clearly,  that  is 
 ours.  And  it  is  not  poOibie,  that  an  infatiable  devourer 
 of  books  can  have  time  to  examine,  recoiled,  and  dif- 
 pofe  in  his  head  all  he  reads.  The  judgment  of  read- 
 ing is,  to  make,  one's  felf  mailer  of  a  few  of  the  beft 
 
 booliii 
 
Pf  K/mvlcdge. )        HUMAN  NATURE.  '157 
 
 books  on  a  fubie<?t ;  in  doing  which,  a  man  of  a  tolei'- 
 able  apprehenlion  will  liaye  acquired  clear  notions  of 
 it,  or  at  leall  of  the  great  lines  and  principal  heads  of  it* 
 
 Some  men  of  abilities  run  into  the  error  of  grafping 
 ■at  too  great  an  extent  and  variety  of  knowledge,  with- 
 out iixing  upon  one  ,ll:udy,  with  a  view  to  purfue  it  a 
 competent  length.  Life  i§  fhort  and  uncertain,  and 
 aAvful  and  important  the  work  to  be  done  in  it.  Every 
 man  has  his  proper  buiinefs  as  a  citizen,  and  his  proper 
 iludy  as  a  man,  to  purfue.  Tiie  knowledge  more  Indif- 
 penfably  neceliary  to  one's  particular  rank  and  pro- 
 feffion,  and  that  which  every  itian  ought  to  be  com- 
 pletely mailer  of,  I  mean,  of  his  duty,  and  means  of 
 happinefs,  are  abfolutely  to  be  made  fure  of.  And  this 
 will  not  leave  to  any„  but  people  of  leifure  and  fortune, 
 an  opportunity  of  expatiating  at  large  in  purfuit  of 
 fcience.  No  man  can  hope  to  excel  in  a  variety  of 
 ways.  Few  are  able  to  excel  in  one  lingle  branch  of 
 knowledge.  And  by  taking  in  too  large  a  fcope,  it  is 
 no  wonder  that  men  can  go  but  inconiiderable  lengths 
 in  all,  and  accordingly  become  mere  fmatterers  in  every 
 thing,  knowing  in  nothing. 
 
 To  avoid  this  error,  the  rule  is  eafy.  Be  fure  that 
 you  underftand  one  thing,  before  you  proceed  to  ano- 
 ther :  And  take  care  that  you  allovv^  for  forgetfulnefs. 
 What  you  luideritand  pretty  well  now,  a  few  years 
 hence  (if  you  drop  that  ftudy)  will  not  ftand  fo  clear 
 in  your  mind  as  at  prefent.  What  apprelienfion  can 
 you  therefore  expedl  to  have,  at  Ibme  diilarice  of  time 
 hence,  of  what  you  do  nov/  clearly  underfland.  The 
 view  in  education  is  very  different  from  that  of  Itudy  in 
 mature  life.  In  education,  the  buiinefs  is  to  open  the 
 mind  to  receive  the  fir  it  principles  of  various  knov^- 
 ledge,  to  furnilh  it  with  the  inilrumental  fciences,  to  ha- 
 bituate it  to  application,  and  accuftom  it  to  exert  itfelf 
 with  eafe  upon  all  kinds  of  refearches,  raithcr  than  to 
 carry  any  one  branch  of  knowledge  to  perfection,  which 
 is  not  indeed  pradicable  at  an  immature  age.  'Jlie  in- 
 tention, on  the  contrary,  in  the  ftudy  of  the  more  manly 
 parts  of  fcience,  in  adult  age,  is  to  furni(h  the  mind  with 
 ji  comprehenfive  and  diftindt  knowledge  of  vvhatever 
 
 O  A  may 
 
10)8  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  H. 
 
 may  be  ufefiil  or  ornamental  to  the  miderflanding. 
 Therefore  it  is  plain,  quite  different  fchemes  are  to  be 
 purfued  in  Itudy  at  thofe  two  different  periods  of  life. 
 This  neceffary  dillindion  is  very  little  attended  to. 
 Accordingly  the  idea,  which  many  educators  of  youth 
 feem  to  have  formed  of  their  province,  is,  plunging  9. 
 raw  boy  to  a  much  greater  depth  in  languages,  than  he 
 will  ever,  at  any  period  of  life,  be  the  better  for,  and 
 negleiling  the  neceffary  work  of  laying  an  early  found- 
 ation of  general  improvement.  And  on  the  other  hand, 
 the  notion  formed  by  many  grown  perfons,  of  learning, 
 is  only,  the  reading  an  infinite  number  of  books  \  fo  that 
 they  may^  have  it  to  fay,  they  have  read  them,  though 
 they  are  nothing  the  wifer  for  it. 
 
 As  fpme  readers  are  for  grafping  at  all  fcience,  fo. 
 others  confine  their  rcfearches  to  one  fingle  article. 
 Yet  it  is  certain,  that  to  excel  in  any  fingle  art  or 
 fcience,  being  wholly  ignorant  of  all  others,  is  not  the 
 complete  improvement  of  the  mind.  Be'fides,  fome  of 
 the  different  parts  of  knowledge  are  fo  connetled  to- 
 gether, and  fo  neceffary  to  one  another,  that  they  cannot 
 be  feparated.  In  order  to  a.  thorough  underftanding  o^ 
 morality,  and  religion  (a  ftudy  which  might  the  befl 
 pretend 'to  exclude  all  others,  as  being  of  infinitely 
 greater  confequence  than  all  others)  feveral  collateral 
 helps  are  neceffary,  as  languages,  hiftory,  and  natural, 
 philofophy. 
 
 There  is  no  part  of  knowledge,  that  has  been  fingly 
 fet  up  for  the  whole  improvement  of  the  mind  fo  much 
 as  clallicai  learning.  I'ime  was  when  Latin^  Greek,  and 
 Logic  were  the  whole  of  education,  and  they  are  by 
 fome  few  narrow  minds,  which  have  had  little  culture 
 of  any  other  kind,  thought  fo  ftill.  But  it  is  to  be  hoped, 
 that  people  will  at  laff  be  wife  enough  to  fee,  that,  in 
 order  to  the  full  improvement  of  the  mind,  it  is  not 
 fiifficient  that  one  enter  the  porch  of  know  ledge,  but 
 that  he  proceed  from  the  ftudy  of  words  to  that  oif 
 things. 
 
 The  purfuit  of  too  many  different  and  inconfiftent 
 ftudies  at  once  is  very  prejudicial  to  thorough  improve- 
 •pient.     The  human  mind  is  fo  formedj  that,  without 
 
 diftindiion, 
 
Of  Knowledge.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  ipQ 
 
 .diilin(ftion,  method,  and  order,  nothing  can  be  clearly 
 apprehended  by  it.  Many  readers  take  a  delight  in 
 heaping  up  in  their  minds  a  cumbrous  mafs  of  mere  un- 
 .conneded  truths,  as  if  a  man  fliould  get  together  a 
 quantity  of  ftone,  bricks,  mortar,  timbers,  boards,  and 
 other  materials,  without  any  defign  of  ever  putting 
 them  together  into  a  regular  building. 
 
 Sqitic  read  by  fits  and  ftarts,  and,  leaving  off  in  the 
 .middle  of  9  particular  fcady  or  inquiry,  Icfe  all  the  la- 
 bour they  had  beitowed,  and  never  purfidng  any  one 
 jubje(5]f  to  a  period,  have  the^ir  heads  filled  only  with 
 incoherent  bits  and  fcraps. 
 
 To  prevent  a  t.urn  to  rambling  and  fiiuntering,  with- 
 out being  able  to  colled  your  thoughts,  or  fix  them  on 
 any  one  fubjecl:,  the  (tudies  of  arithmetic,  mathematics, 
 and  logic,  in  youth,  ought  to  have  been  purfued.  But, 
 i  f  you  have  miffed  of  that  advantage,  you  may  con- 
 ^h-ain  yourfelf  at  times  to  lludy  hard  for  fome  hours, 
 with  a  fixed  refolution,  upon  no  account  whatever  to 
 give  over,  till  the  time  is  out.  By  this  means  you  will 
 come  at  length  to  be  able  to  bear  the  fatigue  of  clofe 
 application.  3ut  after  forty  years  of  age,  never  think  of 
 going  on  with  ftudy,  when  it  goesagainfl:  the  grain  :  na- 
 ture, at  that  time  of  life,  will  not  be  thwarted. 
 
 With  fome  men  ftudy  is  mere  inquiry,  no  matter 
 about  what.  And  a  dii'covery  is  to  them  the  fame, 
 v^^hether  it  be  of  an  important  truth,  or  of  fomewhat 
 merely  curious,  or  perhaps  not  even  entertaining  to  any 
 but  fuch  dull  imaginations  as  their  own.  Such  readers 
 refemble  that  ipecies  of  people,  which  the  Speciator  di- 
 ilinguifiies  by  the  title  of  ^ddnuncs,  vyho  pafs  their 
 lives  in  inquiring  after  news,  with  no  vievv?  to  any  thing, 
 but  merely  hearing  fomewhat  new. 
 
 Were  the  works  of  the  learned  to  be  retrenched  of 
 all  their  fuperfluities  and  fpecious  trifling,  learning 
 would  foon  be  reduced  into  a  much  narrower  compafs. 
 The  voluminous  verbal  critics,  laborious  commentators, 
 and  polemical  writers,  whofe  works  have,  for  feveral 
 centuries,  made  the  preffes  groan,  would  then  flirink 
 into  fixpenny  pamphlets,  and  pocket  volumes. 
 
 Such  a  degree  of  lazinefs  as  will  not  allow  one  to  in- 
 
 O  4  ,      quire 
 
200  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IL 
 
 quire  carefully  into  the  Ccn[e  of  an  author  ;  impatience, 
 inattention,  rambling,  are  difpofitions  in  a  reader,  which 
 effectually  prevent  his  improvement,  even  though  he 
 fhould  upon  the  whole  fpend  as  much  time  over  his 
 books,  as  another,  who  fhall  actually  become  extenlively 
 learned. 
 
 Some  confider  reading  as  a  mere  amufement,  fo  that, 
 to  them,  the  moft  diverting  book  is  the  beft.  Such 
 readers  having  no  view  to  the  cultivation  of  their  un- 
 derftaiiding,  there  is  no  need  to  offer  them  any  direc- 
 tions for  the  condu6l  of  iludy.  The  very  great  num- 
 ber of  novels  and  tales,  which  are  continually  publifh- 
 ing,  encourage  in  people  a  trifling  and  idle  turn  of 
 mind,  for  which  the  prefent  age  is  eminently  remark- 
 able, which  makes  any  dire6l  addrefs  to  their  under- 
 {landings  unacceptable  ;  and  nothing  can  pleafe  or  gain 
 their  attention,  that  is  not  feafoned  with  fome  amufe- 
 ment, fet  off  in  fome  quaint  or  artificial  manner,  or  does 
 not  ferve  to  excite  fome  filly  paffion. 
 
 There  is  nothing  m.ore  difficult,  than  to  come  at  a 
 right  judgment  of  our  ow^n  abilities.  It  is  commonly 
 obferved,  that  ignorant  people  are  often  extremely  con- 
 ceited of  their  own  fancied  knowledge.  An  ignorant 
 perfon,  having  no  manner  of  notion  of  the  vaft  cxten* 
 fivenefs  of  fcience,  concludes  he  has  maftercd  the  whole, 
 becaufe  he  knows  not,  that  there  is  any  thing  to  be 
 learned  beyond  the  little  he  has  learned.  But  it  will 
 take  many  years  Iludy  only  to  know  how  much  there 
 is  to  be  ftudied  and  Inquired  into,  and  to  go  through 
 what  is  already  known  ;  and  the  moll  learned  beft 
 know,  how  mnch,  beyond  all  that  is  known,  is  quite 
 out  of  the  reach  of  human  fagacity.  There  is  indeed 
 an  infinity  of  things,  in  the  ftridelt  {enk  of  the  word, 
 of  which  we  cannot  even  know  our  own  ignorance,  ilot 
 b(iing  at  all  within  the  reach  of  our  ideas  in  our  prq«* 
 fent  (late. 
 
 That  a  young  perfon  may  not  run  into  the  egregiouSj 
 though  common,  error  at  the  time  of  life,  of  fancying 
 himfeif  the  molt  knowing  perfon  in  the  world,  before  he 
 has  gone  half-way  through  the  firil  principles,  or  rudi- 
 ments. 
 
p/Kttotukdge.)       HUMAN  NATURE.  ^oi 
 
 ments  of  knovv^Iedge,  let  him  converfe  with  a  perfon 
 jeminent  in  each  branch  of  fcience,  and  learn  from  them 
 what  labour  he  muft  bellow,  what  books  he  muft  read, 
 what  experiments  he  muft  try,  what  calculations  he 
 muft  go  through,  what  controverlies  he  muft  examine, 
 what  errors  he  muft  avoid,  what  collections  he  muft 
 make,  what  analogical  reafonings  he  muft  purfue,  what 
 clofe  refemblances  in  fubjedls  he  muft  diftinguifii  from. 
 one  another  and  fo  forth.  And  after  he  has  gone 
 through  all  that  an  able  mafter  in  each  -fcience  has 
 prefcribed,  and  has  learned  all  that  is  to  be  learned, 
 and  feen  that  all  our  learning  is  but  ignorance^  then  let 
 him  be  proud  of  his  knowledge,  if  he  can. 
 
 The  univerfalfmatterer  knows  nothing  to  the  bottom. 
 The  man  of  one  fcience,  on  the  contrary,  makes  that 
 everything,  folvcs  all  difficulties  by  it,  refolves  all  things 
 into  it ;  like  the  mulician  and  dancing-mafter  mMoliere 
 who  labour  to  prove,  that  the  welfare  of  ilates,  and  hap- 
 piiiefs  of  the  world,  depend  wholly  on  the  cultivation 
 of  thofe  two  elegances. 
 
 Some  men  feem  to  have  minds  too  narrow  to  appre- 
 hend any  fubjedl  without  firft  cramping  and  hamper- 
 ing it.  Nothing  great  or  generous  can  find  room  in 
 their  fouls.  They  view  thiligs  bit  by  bit,  as  one  who 
 looks  through  a  microfcope,  A  man  of  fuch  a  charac- 
 ter may  know  feme  fubjecis  more  minutely  than  one 
 who  is  univerfally  allowed  to  be  a  great  m^an,  and  yet 
 inch  a  one  muft  be  acknowledged  to  be  aperfon  of  very 
 mean  ace omiplilh ments.  For  it  is  not  having  a  heap  of 
 unanimated  knowledge  in  one's  head,  but  having  the 
 command  cf  it,  and  being  capable  of  applying  and  ex- 
 erting it  in  a  maftcTiy  manner,  that  denominates  a  truly 
 great  and  highly  accompliflied  mind. 
 -  Meri's  natural  tem.pers  have  a  very  great  influence 
 over  their  way  of  thinking.  Sanguine  people,  tor  ex- 
 ample, fee  every  thing  very  fuddenly,  and  often  very 
 clearly  in  one  light.  But  they  do  not  always  take  time 
 to  view  a  complex  fubjedt  on  all  fides,  and  in  every  light; 
 without  which,  it  is  impoflible  to  determine  any  thing 
 about  it  with  certainty.  Thofe  tempers,  when  joined 
 |yith  weak  judgraents,  make  wild  work  in  matters  of 
 
 inquiry 
 
$ta  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  11. 
 
 inquiry  and  learning.  For  through  hade  and  eager- 
 nefs,  they  lay  falfe  foundations,  or  raife -fuperftrudures 
 upon  nothing.  Sanguine  tempers,  however,  are  gene- 
 rally found  to  be  the  fitted  for  adion,  and  without  a 
 confiderable  degree  of  zeal  and  warmth,  men  feldora 
 carry  any  great  defign  into  execution. 
 
 Men  of  cold  faturnine  tempers  are  generally  flow 
 and  laborious  in  their  refearches,  doubtful  and  unde^ 
 termined  in  their  opinions,  and  awkward  at  applying 
 their  difcoveries  and  obfervations  for  the  general  advan- 
 tage of  knowledge,  and  of  mankind.  But  if  the  miner 
 did  not  dig  up  the  ore,  the  curious  artilt  could  not 
 fafnion  the  metal  into  utenfils  and  inftruments  neceffary 
 .in  life.  The  laborious  feavcher  after  knowledge  is  ne- 
 cellary  to  the  man  of  genius.  For  it  is  from  him  that 
 lie  has  the  materials  he  works  upon,  which  he  would 
 not  himfelf  beitow  the  drudgery  of  fearching  after. 
 For  a  laborious  turn  is  very  rarely  found  to  accompany 
 brightnefs  of  genius. 
 
 Some  people's  reading  never  goes  beyond  the  bulk 
 of  a  pamphlet,  who  do  not  for  all  that  quit  their  preten- 
 iions  to  difputing  and  arguing.  But  converfaiion  alone 
 doe,s  not  go  deep  enough  to  lay  a  foiid  foundation  of 
 Jvnowledge ;  nor  does  reading  alone  fully  anfwer  the 
 purpofe  of  digefting  and  rendering  our  knowledge  ufe- 
 ful.  Reading  is  necelTary  to  get  at  the  fundamental 
 principles  of  a  fcience.  And  the  careful  perufal  of  a 
 few  capital  books  is  fuifficient  for  this  purpofe.  After- 
 wards to  talk  over  the  fubjecl  with  a  fet  of  intelligent 
 men,  is  the  bell:  method  for  extending  one's  views  of 
 it.  For  in  an  evening's  converfation,  you  may  learn  the 
 fiibftance  of  what  each  of  your  friends  has  fpent  many 
 months  in  fludying^ 
 
 If  you  can  find  one  or  more  ingenious,  learned,  and 
 communicative  friends,  with  whom  to  converfe  upon 
 curious  and  ufeful  fubjeds,  to  hear  their  opinions,  and 
 aflc  the  advife,  efpecially  of  thole  who  are  advanced  in 
 life,  and,  having  been  at  the  feat  of  the  mufes,  are 
 qualified  to  dired  you  the  fhorteft  way  thither  j  if  you 
 can  find,  in  the  place  where  you  live,  fuch  a  fet  of 
 friends,  with  whom  to  converfe  freely,  and  without  the 
 
 trammeh 
 
OfKnoivledge.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  203 
 
 trammels  of  fyftematic  or  academic  rules,  you  will  find 
 more  improvement,  in  a  fnort  time,  from  fuch  a  fociety, 
 than  from  twenty  years  foiitary  ftudy. 
 
 Some  choofe  only  to  read  on  what  they  call  the  or- 
 thodox lide,  that  is,  books  in  defence  of  thofe  opinions 
 which  the  bulk  of  people  receive  without  examining. 
 They  conclude,  a  great  number  of  people  cannot  be  in 
 the  wrong.  Others  take  for  granted,  that  whatever  is 
 generally  received,  muft  be  wrong.  Such  readers  are 
 lure  to  perufc  whatever  comes  out  againfi:  articles,  or 
 creeds,  or  religion  in  general.  But  they  do  not  take  the 
 pains  to  give  the  defenders  of  them  the  hearing.  And 
 yet  there  is  no  doubt,  but  prejudice  is  equally  wrong 
 on  either  fide ;  and  in  our  times,  there  are  almolt  as 
 many  prejudiced  againft,  as  in  favour  of,  formerly-re- 
 ceived opinions.  There  is  nothing  commendable  in 
 believing  what  is  true,  unlefs  that  belief  be  the  eifecfl: 
 of  examination.  Nor  is  there  any  merit  in  oppoiing 
 error,  if  fuch  oppolition  is  accidental,  and  the  effed:  of 
 prejudice. 
 
 In  eftablifhing  a  fet  of  principles,  mofl  people  let 
 themfeives  be  bialTed  by  prejudice,  paffion,  education, 
 fpiritual  guides,  common  opinion,  fuppofed  orthodoxy, 
 or  almoft  any  thing.  And,  after  having  been  habitu- 
 ated to  a  particular  way  of  thinking,  which  they  took 
 up  without  examination,  they  can  no  more  quit  it,  than 
 they  can  change  the  features  of  their  faces,  or  the  make 
 of  their  perfons.  To  come  at  truth,  one  ought  to  be- 
 gin With  throwing  out  of  his  mind  every  attachment  to 
 either  fide,  and  bringing  himfelf  to  an  abfoiute  indiffer- 
 ence which  is  true,  or  which  falfe.  He  who  wifhes  an 
 opinion  to  be  true,  is  in  danger  of  being  milled  into  the 
 belief  of  it  upon  infuflicient  grounds  ;  and  he  who 
 wiihes  it  to  be  falfe,  is  likely  to  rejed:  it  in  fpite  of  fuf- 
 ficient  evidence  for  its  truth.  To  obferve  forae  men 
 ftudying,  reading,  arguing,  and  writing  wholly  on  one 
 lide,  without  giving  the  other  a  fair  hearing,  making 
 learning  a  party-affi.ur,  and  ftirring  up  fadion  againlt 
 truth,  one  would  imagine,  their  minds  were  not  made 
 like  thofe  of  mod  rational  beings,  of  which  truth  is  the 
 
 proper 
 
204  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IL 
 
 proper  objed ;  but  that  it  gave  them  a  pleafure  to  be 
 deceived. 
 
 Though  it  is  thebufinefs  and  the  very  characler  of  a 
 wife  man,  to  examine  both  fides,  to  hear  different  opi- 
 nions, and  to  fearch  for  truth  even  among  the  rubbifli 
 of  error  ;  yet  there  are  numberlefs  books,  which  I  can- 
 not think  the  fliortnefs  and  uncertainty  of  hfe,  which 
 leaves  no  room  for  tedious  trifling,  will  admit  of  exa- 
 mining with  the  care  that  mud  be  bellowed  in  trying 
 to  find  out  the  author's  meaning,  and  to  learn  fomewhat 
 from  him.  As  fome  writers,  fo  to  fpeak,  never  go 
 deep  enough  to  draw  blood  of  a  fubje(5t ;  fo  others  re- 
 iine  and  fubtilize  avi^ay  all  that  the  underftanding  can 
 lay  hold  of.  The  logicians  and  metaphyficians,  with 
 their  fubftantial  forms,  and  intentional  fpecies ;  the 
 Malebranches  and  Behiiiens  I  What  fruit  there  is  to  be 
 got  from  reading  fuch  writers  is,  to  me,  inconceiveable. 
 For  the  fate  of  ail  fuch  refinements  is,  to  be  found  partly 
 unintelligible,  partly  abfurd,  and  partly  of  no  manner 
 of  confequence  toward  the  d;fcovery  of  any  new  truth. 
 
 Some  men  have  the  misfortune  of  an  awkward,  and, 
 as  it  were,  left-handed  way  of  thinking  and  apprehend- 
 ing things.  A  great  thought  in  fuch  minds  is  not  a 
 great  thought.  For  what  is  in  itfeif  clear  and  dilHndf, 
 to  fuch  men  appears  dim  and  confufed.  Thofe  gentle- 
 men are  mightily  given  to  finding  difficulties  in  the 
 cleareft  points,  and  are  great  coUedors  of  arguments 
 pro  and  con^  But  their  labours  have  no  tendency  to 
 give  either  themfelves  or  others  fatisfadion  in  any  one 
 fubjed  of  inquiry.  It  feems  to  be  their  delight  ta 
 darken,  rather  than  enlighten. 
 
 Want  of  education,  or  of  fo  much  culture  as  is  ne- 
 ceflary  for  habituating  the  mind  to  wield  its  faculties, 
 is  the  fame  fort  of  difadvantage,  for  finding  out  and 
 communicating  intricate  truth,  as  a  raw  recruit's  never 
 having  learned  the  military  exercife,  is  for  his  perform- 
 ing the  movements  properly  in  a  review  or  a  battle.  It 
 is  therefore  matter  of  compaffion  to  fee  filly  people, 
 without  the  leafi;  improvement  by  education,  without 
 the  advantage  even  of  firft  principles,  fi:riking  flap-dafh 
 ■at  points  of  fcience,  of  which  they  do  not  fo  much  as 
 
 underiland. 
 
OfKnotvledge.)       HUMAN  NATURE.  £35 
 
 underftand  what  it  is  they  would  affirm  or  deny ;  dif- 
 puting  and  confuting  agalnft  thofe,  who  have  fpent 
 their  lives  in  a  particular  ftudj  ;  pretending,  perhaps 
 the  firft  moment  they  ever  thought  of  a  fubjedl,  to.  fee 
 through  the  whole  of  it ;  taking  upon  them  to  make 
 ufe  of  argumenrs,  a  fort  of  tools,  which  they  have  no 
 more  command  of,  than  I  iliould  of  the  lielm  of  a  fiiip, 
 in  a  tempeft.  The  Ihorteft  way  of  finifhing  a  difpute 
 with  people,  who  will  be  meddling  with  what  you  know 
 to  be  out  of  their  depths  is  to  tell  them,  what  reading 
 and  ftudy  you  have  bellowed  upon  it,  and  that  ftili  you 
 do  not  think  yourfelf  fufiicientiy  mailer  of  the  fubjedl. 
 If  your  antagonifl  has  any  modeily,  he  mud  be  fenhble^ 
 that  it  is  arrogance  in  him  to  pretend^  without  all  the 
 neceffary  advantages,  to  underftand  a  fubjecl  better  thaa 
 one,  who  has  had  them. 
 
 Men  of  bulinefs,  and  men  of  pleafure,  even  if  they 
 have  had  their  minds  in  their  youth  ope^'ned  by  educa- 
 tion, and  put  in  the  way  of  acquiring  knowledge,  are 
 generally  found  afterwards  to  lofe  the  habit  of  clofe 
 thinking  and  reafoning.  But  no  one  is  lefs  capable  o€ 
 fearching  into,  or  communicating  truth,  than  he  who 
 has  been  from  his  earlieft  youth  brought  up,  as  moil  of 
 the  great  are,  in  pleafure  and  folly. 
 
 There  is  no  fingle  obftacle,  v/hich  ftands  in  the  way 
 of  more  people  in  the  fearch  of  truth,,  than  pride. 
 They  have  once  declared  themfelves  of  a  particular 
 opinion ;  and  they  cannot  bring  themfelves  to  think 
 they  could  poffibly  be  in  the  wrong.  Confequently 
 they  cannot  perfuade  themfelves  of  the  neceffity  of 
 of  re-examining  the  foundations  of  their  opinions.  To 
 acknowledge,  and  give  up  their  error,  would  be  a  ftill 
 feverer  trial.  Bat  the  truth  is,  there  is  more  greatnefs 
 of  mind  in  candidly  giving  up  a  raifl:ake,  than  would 
 have  appeared  in  efcaping  it  at  firft,  if  not  a  very  fliame- 
 ful  one.  The  fureft  way  of  avoiding  error,  is,  careful 
 examination.  The  beft  way  of  leaving  room  for  a 
 change  of  opinion,  which  fhould  always  be  provided 
 for,  is  to  be  modeft  in  delivering  one's  lentiments.  A 
 man  may,  without  confufion,  give  up  an  opinion,  which 
 h^  declared  without  arrogance, 
 
 the 
 
Ad^  tHE  DIGNITY  OF  (Booictl; 
 
 The  cafe  of  thofe,  whofe  fecular  interefts  have  en- 
 gaged them  to  declare  themfelves  of  a  certain  party^ 
 where  confcience  is  not  allowed  to  fpeak  loud  enough 
 to  be  heard  on  the  lide  of  candid  and  diligent  exami- 
 nation, is  the  molt  remedilefs  of  any.  Thofe  men  have 
 nothing  for  it  but  to  find  out  plaufible  arguments  for 
 their  pre-eftablilhed  opinions,  find  themfelves  obliged 
 not  to  examine  whether  their  notions  be  true ;  but  to 
 contrive  ways  and  means  to  make  them  true  in  fpite  of 
 truth  itfelf.  If  they  happen  to  be  in  the  right,  fo  much 
 the  better  for  them.  Jf  in  an  error,  having  fet  out 
 with  their  backs  upon  truth,  the  longer  they  travel,  the 
 farther  they  are  from  it  j  the  more  they  ftudy,  the  more 
 they  are  deceived. 
 
 There  are  fome  men  of  no  fettled  w^ay  of  thinking  at 
 all ;  but  change  opinions  with  every  pamphlet  they  read. 
 To  get  rid  of  this  unmanly  ficklenefs,  the  way  is,  to 
 labour  to  furnilh  the  mind  early  with  a  fet  of  rational 
 well-grounded  principles,  which  will,  generally  fpeak- 
 ing,  lead  to  reafonable  confequences.  Take  for  an  ex- 
 ample the  following  one  among  many.  "  The  only 
 "  end  of  a  true  religion  mult  be  to  perfefb  the  human 
 *'  nature,  and  lead  mankind  to  happinefs."  The  rea- 
 der muft  perceive  at  once,  that  fuch  a  fundamental 
 principle  w411  ferve  to  difcover  and  expofe  almoft  all 
 the  errors  and  abfurdities  of  falfe  religions,  and  thofe 
 which  may  be  introduced  into  the  true.  And  fo  of' 
 other  general  principles. 
 
 Artful  declamations  have  often  fatal  efFefls  in  mif- 
 leading  weak  readers  from  the  truth.  A  talent  at  ora- 
 tory is  therefore  a  very  miichievous  weapon  in  the 
 hands  of  an  ill-difpofed  man.  It  is  the  wifdom  of  a 
 reader,  when  he  has  produdlions  of  genius  put  into  his 
 hands,  to  examine  all  the  peculiar  notions  he  finds  in 
 fuch  writings,  llripping  them  of  their  ornaments  to  the 
 .tare  thought;  which,  if  it  will  ftand  the  tell  of  cool 
 reafon,  is  to  be  received ;  if  not,  the  llyle  it  is  clothed 
 in  ought  to  gain  it  no  favour;  but  it  ought  to  be  re- 
 jefted  with  indignation.  Wit,  humour,  and  raillery, 
 ]bave  done  infinite  mifchief  among  fuperficial  readers. 
 Of  which  talents  fome  authors  have  fuch  a  command. 
 
OfKnotvledge.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  2*7 
 
 as  to  be  capable  of  working  up  unthinking  and  unprin- 
 cipled people  to  believe  or  pradife  whatever  they 
 pleafe. 
 
 Strive  to  underftand  things  as  they  are  in  themfelves. 
 Do  not  think  of  conceiving  of  them  otherwifef  than  ac- 
 cording to  their  real  natures.  Do  not  labour  to  ex- 
 plain religion  by  chemiltry,  to  reduce  morals  to  ma- 
 thematical certainty,  or  to  think  of  eternal  rectitude  as 
 an  arbitrary  or  faditious  conititution.  The  nature  of 
 things  will  not  be  forced.  Bring  your  underftanding 
 to  them.  Do  not  think  of  reducing  them  to  your  hy- 
 pothelis;  unlefs  you  be  indifferent  about  true  know- 
 ledge, and  mean  only  to  amufe  yourfelf  with  a  jeu 
 cfefprit. 
 
 In  reading,  labour  to  get  into  the  full  fenfe  of  the 
 author's  principal  terms,  and  the  truths  affirmed  in  his 
 propolitions.  After  that,  obferve  whether  he  proves, 
 or  only  affirms  roundly;  whether  what  he  fays  is  built 
 on  fancy,  or  on  truth,  and  the  nature  of  things.  And 
 do  not  pretend  to  believe  him  one  hair's  breadth  be- 
 yond what  you  underiland  :  you  cannot  if  you  would. 
 
 In  oonverfation,  or  writing,  if  you  mean  to  give't)r 
 receive  information,  accurately  define  your  terms.  Keep 
 to  the  original  fenfe  you  affixed  to  them.  Ufe  no  tau- 
 tology. Think  in  time  what  objedions  may  be  made 
 to  what  you  are  going  to  urge.  Let  truth  be  your  fole 
 view.  Defpife  the  pleafure  of  conquering  your  anta- 
 gonift.  Pronounce  modeftly,  fo  as  to  leave  room  for  a 
 retreat.  Keep  yourfelf  fuperior  to  paffion  and  peeviih- 
 nefs.  Yield  whatever  you  can,  that  your  antagoniil 
 may  fee  you  do  not  difpute  for  contention's  fake.  When 
 you  have  argued  the  m^atter  fully,  and  neither  can 
 bring  over  the  other,  drop  the  fubjech  amicably,  mu- 
 tually agreeing- to  differ. 
 
 If  you  would  thoroughly  re-examine  a  fubjeft  of  im- 
 portance, fancy  it  to  be  quite  new  to  you,  before  you 
 begin  to  inquire  into  it.  Throw  out  of  your  mind 
 all  your  former  notions  of  it;  and  put  yourfelf  in  the 
 place  of  an  honed  Indian^  to  whom  a  miffionary  is  ex- 
 plaining the  Chriftian  religion.  Take  every  lingle 
 tliQUght  to  pieces,  and  reduce  every  complex  idea  to 
 
 its 
 
ioi  ■  ^kE  DtGl^ITY  O^  (Book  if, 
 
 its  limples.  Get  into  the  author's  precife  fenfe  in  cvtYy 
 general  temfl  he  ufes.  Strip  his  thoughts  bare  of  all 
 iiouriihes.  Turn  every  lingle  point,  in  every  compli- 
 cated fubje<ft,  all  the  ways  it  is  capable  of.  View  every 
 minute  circumftance  that  may  have  any  weight,  not  in 
 one,  but  in  all  lights.  Throw  out  of  your  mind  every 
 defire  or  wifn,  that  may  bias  you  either  for  or  againil 
 the  propoiition.  Shake  of  every  prejudice,  whether  in 
 favour  of  or  againft  the  author.  Let  the  merit  of  every 
 lingle  argument  be  duly  weighed  -,  and  do  not  let  your- 
 felf  be  too  ftrongiy  influenced  by  one  you  underltand 
 ftilly,  againft  another,  which  you  do  not  fo  clearly  fee 
 through ;  .or  by  one  you  are  familiar  with,  againil  one 
 that  may  be  new  to  you,  or  not  to  your  humour.  The 
 weight  is  of  more  confequence  than  the  number  of  ar- 
 guments. Labour  above  all  things  to  acquire  a  clear 
 methodical,  and  accurate  manner  of  thinking,  fpeaking,' 
 or  writing.  W  ithout  this,  ftudy  is  but  fruitlefs  fatigue, 
 and  learning  ufelefs  lumber. 
 
 Do  not  form  very  high  or  very  mean  notions  of  per- 
 fons  or  things,  where  a  great  deal  is  to  be  faid  on  both 
 fides.  Whatever  is  of  a  mixed  nature  ought  to  be 
 treated  as  fuch.  Judging  of  truth  in  the  lump  will 
 make  wild  work.  If  an  author  pleafes  you  in  one  place,, 
 do  not  therefore  give  yourfelf  up  implicitly  to  him.  If 
 he  blunders  in  one  place,  do  not  therefore  conclude 
 that  his  whole  book  is  nonfenfe.  Efpecially,  if  he  writes 
 'well  in  general,  do  not  imagine,  from  one  difficult  paf- 
 fage,  which  you  cannot  reconcile  with  the  reft,  that  he 
 meant  to  contradift  his  v/hole  book ;  but  rather  con- 
 clude that  you  mifunderftand  him.  Perhaps  mathe- 
 matics are  the  only  fcience  on  which  any  author  has, 
 or  can  write,  M-ithout  falling  into  miftakes. 
 
 Take  care  of  falfe  aflbciations.  Error  may  be  an- 
 cient; truth  of  late  difcovery.  The  many  may  gd 
 •wrong,  while  the  few  are  in  the  right.  Learning  does 
 not  always  imply  judgment  in  an  author,  or  foundnefs 
 in  his  opinions.  Nor  is  all  vulgar  error  that  is  believed 
 by  the  vulgar.  Truth  ftands  independent  of  all  external 
 things.     In  all  your  refearchcs,  let  that  be  your  objed. 
 
 1  '  l"9fke 
 
Of  KhcivUgc.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  2?9 
 
 Take  care  of  being  milled  by  words  of  no  meaning, 
 of  double  meaning,  or  of  uncertain  fignification.  Re- 
 gard always  in  an  author  the  matter  more  than  the  flylc. 
 It  is  the  thought  that  muft  improve  your  mind.  The 
 language  can  only  pleafe  your  ear.  if  you  areyourfelf 
 to  write,  or  to  preach,  you  will  do  more  with  mankind 
 by  a  fine  i^yle  than  de^p  thought.  All  men  have  ears 
 and  pallions;  few  ftrong  underftanclings  to  work  upon. 
 
 If  you  give  yourfelf  up  to  a  fantallical,  over-heated, 
 gloomy,  or  fuperditious  imagination,  you  may  bid  farc- 
 wel  to  reafon  and  judgment.  Fancy  is  to  be  corredted, 
 moderated,  reflrained,  watched,  and  fiifpefled,'  not  in- 
 dulged and  let  loofe.  Keep  down  every  pallion,  and, 
 in  general,  every  motion  of  the  mind,  except  cool 
 judgment  and  refie£l;ion,  if  you  really  mean  to  find  out 
 truth.  What  matter  whether  an  opinion  be  yours,  or 
 your  mortal  enemy's?  If  it  be  true,  embrace  it  without 
 prejudice;  if  falfe,  rejecb  it  without  mercy:  truth  has 
 nothing  to  do  with  your  felf-iove,  or  your  quarrels. 
 
 The  credulous  man  believes  without  fufficient  evi- 
 dence. The  obftinate  doubts  v.'ithout  reafon.  The 
 fanguine  is  convinced  at  once.  The  phlegmatic  with- 
 holds his  alTent  long.  The  learned  has  bis  hypothecs. 
 The  illiterate  his  prejudice.  The  proud  is  above  being 
 convinced.  The  tickle  is  not  of  the  fame  opinion  two 
 days  together.  Young  people  determine  quickly.  The 
 old  deliberate  long.  The  dogmatilt  afhrms  as  if  he 
 went  upon  mxathematical  demonltration.  The  fceptic 
 doubts  his  own  faculties,  when  they  tell  him  that  twice 
 two  are  four.  Some  will  believe  nothing  in  religion- 
 that  they  can  fully  underdand.  Others  will  believe 
 nothing  relating  to  a  point  of  docftrine,  thought  the  bare 
 propolition  be  ever  ib  clear,  if  it  be  pofTibie  to  ftart  any 
 di(xlculty  about  the  modus  of  it.  Fathion,  the  only  rule 
 of  life  among  many,  efpecially  almoft  univerfiilly  m  the 
 higher  ranks,  has  evenaconfiderable  influence  in  opinion, 
 in  tafte,  in  reading,  and  in  the  methods  of  improving 
 the  niind.  It  runs  through  politics,  divinity,  and  all 
 but  the  mathematical  fcienceb.  And  there  are  a  fet  of 
 people  at  this  day  weak  enough  to  tiiink  of  making 
 even  them  yield  to  it,  and  of  new-modelling  and  taking 
 
2IP  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  II 
 
 to  pieces  a  fjltem  of  philofophy  founded,  in  demon- 
 flration. 
 
 Parents  may  have  milled  us ;  teachers  may  have  mif- 
 informed  us  ;  fpiritual  guides  in  many  countries  do  no- 
 torioully  miflead  the  people,  and  in  all  are  failible. 
 The  ancient  phiiofophers  diiFered  among  themfelves  in 
 fundamentals.  The  flithers  o^  the  church  contradicl 
 one  another,  and  often  contradid  both  fcripture  and 
 reafon.  Popes  and  councils  have  decreed  againil  one 
 another.  We  know  cur  anceitors  to  have  been  in  the 
 wrong  in  innumerable  ifillances:  and  they  had  the  bet- 
 ter of  us  in  fome.  Kings  repeal  the  edicts  of  their  pre-? 
 deceffors ;  and  parliaments  abrogate  ads  of  former  par- 
 liaments. Good  men  may  be  miftaken.  Bad  men  will 
 not  (lick  to  deceive  us.  Here' is  therefore  no  manner 
 of  foundation  for  implicit  belief.  If  we  mt-an  to  come 
 at  truth,  there  is  but  one  way  for  it ;  to  attend  to  the 
 cool  and  unprejudiced  didates  of  reafon,  that  heaven- 
 born  diredor  within  us,  which  will  never  mifltad  us  in 
 any  affair  of  confequence  to  us,  unlefs  we  regled  to 
 ufe  its  affiflance,  or  give  ourfelves  up  to  the  govern- 
 ment of  our  paffions  or  prejudices.  More  efpecia;ly  we 
 of  this  age  and  nation,  who  have  the  additional  advan- 
 tage of  Divine  revelation,  which  alfo  convinces  us  of  its 
 authority  by  reafon,  fliould  be  peculiarly  unjullifiable 
 in  quitting  thofe  iacred  guides,  to  whole  condud  Hea- 
 ven jtfelf  has  entrurted  us,  and  of  w^hich  the  univerfal 
 freedom  of  the  prefent  happy  times  allows  us  the  ufe 
 without  reRraint,  and  giving  ourfelves  up  to  be  led 
 blindfold  by  any  other.  And,  befides  reafon  and  reve- 
 lation, there  is  no  perfon  or  thing  in  the  univerfe,  that 
 ought  to  have  the  lead  influence  over  us  in  our  fearch 
 after  truth. 
 
 All  the  operations  of  the  mind  become  eafy  by  habit., 
 It  will  be  of  great  ufe  to  habituate  yourfelf  to  examine, 
 relied,  compare,  and  view,  in  every  light,  all  kinds  of 
 fubjeds.  Mathematics  in  youth,  rational  logic,  inch  as 
 Mr.  Locke  Sy  and  converfation  with  men  of  clear  heads, 
 will  be  of  great  advantage  to  accuftom  you  to  a  readi- 
 nefs  and  juftnefs  in  reafoning.  But  carefully  avoid  dif- 
 puting  for  difputing's  Hike,  fvecp  on  improving  and 
 2  enlarging 
 
■Of  Knowledge.)       HUMAN  NATURE.  211 
 
 enlarging  your  views  in  a  variety  of  ways.  One  part 
 of  knowledge  is  connedted  wirh,  and  will  throw  a  light 
 upon  another.  Review  from  time  to  time  your  former 
 inquiries,  efpeciaily  in  important  fubjeds.  Try  whe- 
 ther you  have  not  let  yourfelf  be  impofed  upon  by  fome 
 fallacy.  And  if  you  find  fo,  though  you  have  publiflied 
 your  opinion  through  all  Europe,  make  not  the  lead  he- 
 litation  to  own  your  miftake,  and  retract  it.  Truth  is 
 above  all  other  regards.  And  it  is  infinitely  worfe  to 
 continue  oblfinately  in  a  millake,  and  be  the  caufe  of 
 error  in  others,  than  to  be  thought  fallible,  or,  in  other 
 words,  to  be  thought  a  mortal  man.  In  examining  into 
 truth,  keep  but  one  fingle  point  in  view  at  a  time;  and 
 when  you  have  fearched  it  to  the  bottom,  pafs  on  to 
 another,  and  fo  on,  till  you  have  gone  through  all,  and 
 viewed  every  one  in  every  different  light.  At  laft,  fum 
 up  the  coUeclive  evidence  on  both  tides.  Balance  them 
 againft  one  another,  and  give  your  affent  accordingly, 
 proportioning  your  certainty  or  perluafion  to  the  amount 
 of  the  clear  and  unqueftionable  evidence  upon  the 
 whole. 
 
 In  reafoning  there  is  more  probability  of  convincing 
 hy  two  or  three  folid  arguments  clotely  put,  than  by  as 
 many  dozen  inconclufive  ones,  ill  digelled,  and  impro- 
 perly ranged.  1  know  of  no  way  of  reafoning  equal  to  the 
 Socratic,  by  which  you  convince  your  antagonift  out  of 
 his  own  mouth.  .  1  could  name  feveral  eminent  writers, 
 who  have  fo  laboured  to  eftabliOi  their  opinions  by  a 
 rnultipliciry  of  arguments,  that,  by  means  of  over- 
 proving,  they  have  rendered  thofe  docftrines  doubtful, 
 which,  with  a  third  part  of  the  reafoning  beftowed  by 
 them,  would  have  appeared  unquelUonable 
 
 Of  all  difputants,  thofe  learned  controverfial  writers 
 are  the  moft  whimiical,  who  have  the  talents  of  work- 
 ing themfelves  up  in  their  clofets  into  fuch  a  paffion,  as 
 to  call  their  antagonirts  names  in  black  and  white  ;  to 
 life  railing  inftead  of  reafoning,  and  palm  off  the  public 
 with  ro^ue,  ra/cal,  dog,  and  blockhead,  for  folid  confu- 
 tations, as  if  the  academy,  at  which  they  had  fludied, 
 had  been  that  of  Billingsgate, 
 
 P  2  If 
 
-12  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IL. 
 
 If  one  thinks  he  is  in  the  right,  it  can  be  no  greafe 
 matter  ^vith  how  much  modefty  and  temper  he  defends 
 truth,  fo  he  does  not  give  it  up.  And  if  he  fhould  be 
 found  afterwards  to  have  been  in  the  wrong,  which  ia 
 moll  difputable  points  is  always  to  be  apprehended,  his 
 modeil  defence  of  his  opinion  will  gain  him,  with  all 
 reaibnable  people,  a  pardon  for  his  miiiake.  There 
 are  fo  many  fides,  on  which  moft  fubjefts  may  be  vievi^- 
 ed,  and  fo  many  confiderations  to  be  taken  in,  that  a 
 wife  man  will  always  exprefs  himfelf  modeftly  even  on 
 thofe  fabjeds  which  he  has  thoroughly  ftudied.  Nor 
 can  there  be  any  danger,  but  contraviv^ife  great  advan- 
 tage, in  hearing  the  opinion  of  others,  if  one  converfes. 
 with  men  of  judgment  and  probity;  and  thofe  of  con- 
 trary charaders  are  not  fi.t  for  converfition. 
 
 It  is  remarkable,  and  quite  contrary  to  what  one 
 would  expert,  that  young  people  are  more  pofitive  in, 
 affirming,  and  more  given  to  ditputc,  than  the  aged  and 
 experienced.  One  would  think  it  lliould  be  natural  for 
 youth  to  be  diffident  of  itfelf,  and  inclinable  to  fubmit 
 to  the  judgment  of  thofe  who  have  had  unqueftionably: 
 fuperior  advantages  for  information.  But  we  find  on 
 the  contrary,  that  a  young  perfon,  viewing  a  fubjed^ 
 only  from  oiie  fide,  and  feeing  it  in  a  very  ftrongand 
 lively  manner,  is,  from  the  fanguine  temper  natural  to 
 that  time  of  life,  led  to  difpute,  affirm,  and  deny,  with 
 great  obftinacy  and  arrogance.  This  is  one  of  the  mofl: 
 difagreeable  and  troublefome  qualities  of  youth,  other- 
 wife  fo  amiable  and  engaging.  It  is  the  bufinefs  and 
 effect  of  prudence  to  correct  it. 
 
 The  abilities  of  men,  taken  upon  an  average,  are  fi 
 Very  narrow,  that  it  is  vain  to  expedl  that  ever  the  bulk 
 of  a  people  (liould  be  very  knowing.  Moft  men  are 
 endowed  with  parts  fufficient  for  enabling  them  to  pro- 
 vide for  themfelves  and  their  families,  and  fecure  their 
 future  happinefs.  But  as  to  any  thing  greatly  beyond 
 the  common  arts  of  life,  there  are  few  that  have  either 
 capacity  or  opportunity  of  reaching  it.  Human  know- 
 ledge itfelf  very  probably  has  its  limit*;,  which  it  never 
 will  exceed,  while  the  prefent  ilate  lafts.  The  fyftem 
 oi  the  world,  for  example,  was  originally  produced,  and 
 
bfKmwlaJgi.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  213 
 
 has  been  fince  concluded,  by  a  wifdom  too  profound 
 for  human  capacity  to  trace  through  all  its  fteps.  Hi- 
 ftory,  at  leaft  profane,  beyond  the  two  thoufund  years 
 laft  paft,  is  come  down  to  us  fo  defedive,  and  fo  mixed 
 with  fable,  that  little  fatisfadion  is  to  be  had  from  it. 
 And  the  hiftory  of  facceeding  ages  is  far  enough  from 
 being  unexccptionably  authenticated;  though  this  is 
 not  denying,  that  phyiiology  and  hiitor3''are  iliil  highly 
 v/orthy  our  attention  and  inquiry.  What  I  have  faid  of 
 thefe  two  confiderable  heads  of  fliudy,  may  be  affirmed 
 in  fome  degree  of  moil  branches  of  human  knowledge, 
 mathematics  and  mathematical  fciences  excepted,'  It 
 is  the  goodnefs  of  the  Author  of  our  being,  as  well  as 
 the  excellence  of  our  nature,  and  the  comfort  of  our 
 prefent  ftatc,  that  the  knowledge  of  our  duty,  and  means 
 of  happinefs,  Hands  clear  and  unqueftlonable  to  every 
 found  and  unprejudiced  mind ;  that  the  difference  be- 
 tween right  and  wrong  is  too  obvious,  and  too  ftriking, 
 to  efcapc  obfervation,  or  to  produce  difficulty  or  doubt  ; 
 unlefs  v/here  difficulties  are  laborioufly  fought  after, 
 and  doubts  induflrioully  raifed ;  that  where  we  moft 
 heed  clearnefs  and  certainty,  there  we  have  the  moll  of 
 them ;  that  w^here  doubts  would  be  mofi  diitrading, 
 there  we  mufl  raife  them  before  we  can  be  troubled 
 with  them,  and  that  w^here  We  moft  need  full  proof  to 
 determine  us,  there  we  have  fuperabundant.  For  v/ith 
 ■/efpedl  to  our  duty  and  future  expectations,  our  own 
 hearts  are  made  to  teach  us  them  ;  and,  as  if  the  inter- 
 nal monitor,  Confcience,  v/as  not  fufficient.  Heaven  it- 
 lelf  ,defcends  to  illuminate  our  minds,  and  all  Nature 
 exerts  herfelf  to  inculcate  this  grand  and  important  lef- 
 fon,  That  Virtue  leads  to  happinefs,  and  Vice  to  de- 
 Rruclion.  Of  v^^hich  fubjedt  more'  fully  in  the  follow- 
 ing book. 
 
 V  3  TPI5 
 
DIGNITY 
 
 OF 
 
 HUMAN       N  A  T  U  R  E= 
 
 BOOK   III. 
 Of  Virtue. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 AS  the  human  fpecies  are  to  exiit  in  two  different 
 ftates,  an  embodied,  and  a  fpiritual ;  a  mortal 
 life  on  earth,  and  an  immortal  hereafter ;  it  was  to  be 
 expedled,  that  there  fhould  be  certain  peculiar  requi- 
 iites  for  the  dignity  of  each  of  the  two  different  ftates 
 refpedively ;  and  that,  at  the  fame  time,  there  ihould 
 be  fuch  an  analogy  between  that  part  of  the  human  ex- 
 iflence,  which  was  to  be  before  death,  and  that  which 
 was  to  be  after  it,  as  fhould  be  fui table  to  different 
 parts  of  the  fame  fcheme ;  fo  that  the  latter  fnould  ap- 
 pear to  be  the  fequel  of  the  former,  making  in  the  whole 
 the  complete  exiflence  of  the  creature,  beginning  witli 
 the  entrance  into  this  mortal  hfe,  but  knowing  no  end. 
 In  the  two  parts  of  the  Dignity  of  Hunian  Nature, 
 which  we  have  already  confidered,  to  wit,  Prudence 
 and  Knowledge,  it  is  evident,  that  the  immediate  view 
 is  to  the  improvement  and  embellifliment  of  life,  and 
 for  diffufing  happinefs  through  fociety ;  at  the  fame 
 time  that  many,  if  not  the  greatell  part,  of  the  direc- 
 tions given  for  the  condudl  of  life,  and  of  the  under- 
 ftanding,  are  likevvite  ufeful  with  a  view  to  the  future 
 and  immortal  ftate.  And  indeed  there  is  nothing  truly 
 worthy  of  our  attention,  which  does  not  fome  way  fland 
 connedled  with  futurity. 
 
 The 
 
Of  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  215 
 
 The  two  parts  of  the  fubjedl  which  itill  remain,  I 
 mean,  of  Morals,  and  Revealed  Religion,  do  moft  im- 
 mediately and  diredly  tend  to  prepare  us  for  a  future 
 ftate;  but,  at  the  fame  time,  are  highly  neceflary  to  be 
 ftudied  and  attended  to,  if  we  mean  to  eflablifii  the  hap- 
 pinefs  even  of  this  prefent  mortal  life  upon  a  fore  and 
 Iblid  foundation.  But  every  one  of  the  four,  and  every 
 conliderable  particular  in  each  of  them,  is  abfolutely 
 necelTary  for  raifing  our  nature  to  that  perfection  and 
 happinefs,  for  which  it  is  intended, 
 
 •  The  Dignity  of  Human  Nature  will,  in  the  two  fol- 
 lowing books,  appear  more  illuftrious  than  the  preceding 
 part  cc  this  work  reprefents  it.  So  that  the  fubjcil  rifes 
 in  its  importance,  and  demands  a  higher  regard.  Might 
 the  abilities  of  the  writer  improve  accordingly.  Might 
 the  infinite  Author  of  the  univerfal  economy  illuminate 
 his  mind,  and  fecond  his  weak  attempt  to  exhibit  in 
 one  view  the  whole  of  what  mankind  have  to  do,  in  or- 
 der to  their  anfwering  the  ends  which  the  Divine  Wii- 
 dom  and  Goodnefs  had  in  view,  in  placing  them  in  a 
 ftate  of  difcipline  and  improvement  for  endlefs  perfec- 
 tion and  happinefs. 
 
 To  proceed  upon  a  folid  and  ample  foundation  in  the 
 following  dedudion  of  morals,  it  feems  proper  to  take 
 an  extenlive  profped  of  things,  and  begin  as  high  as 
 poffible. 
 
 Fiift,  it  may  be  worth  while  briefly,  and  in  a  way 
 as  little  abftradt  or  logical  as  poffible,  to  obviate  a  few 
 artificial  difficulties  that  have  been  ftarted  by  forae  of 
 thofe  deep  and  fabtle  men,  who  have  a  better  talent  at 
 puzzling  than  enlightning  mankind.  One  of  thofe 
 imaginary  difficulties  is.  The  poffibility  of  our  reafon's 
 deceiving  us.  *'  Our  reafon,"  fay  thofe  profound  gen- 
 tlemen, "  tells  us,  that  twice  two  are  four.  But  what 
 *'  if  our  reafon  mipofes  upon  us  in  this  matter?  How, 
 "  if  in  the  world  of  the  moon,  two  multiplied  by  two 
 '*  ihould  be  found  to  make  five?  Who  can  affirm  that 
 "  this  is  not  the  cafe?  Nothing  indeed  feems  to  us  morv-i 
 **  unqueftionable  than  the  proportions  among  numbers, 
 "  and  geometrical  figures.  So  that  we  cannot  (fuch  is 
 *'  the  make  of  our  minds)  fo  much  as  conceive  the  pof- 
 
 P  A  ♦*  fibiliiy 
 
2i6  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  111 
 
 *'  fibility  that  twice  two  lliould,  in  any  other  world,  or 
 **  fcate  of  things,  make  more  or  lefs  than  four,  or  tha't 
 ♦*  all  the  angles  of  a  plain  triangle  fhould  be  either 
 *<  more  or  lefs  than  exatflly  equal  to  two  right  ones. 
 *'  But  it  does  not  follow,  that  other  beings  may  not  un- 
 **  derftand  things  in  a  quite  diifcrent  manner  from  what 
 "  we  do." 
 
 It  is  wonderful  how  any  man  fnould  have  hit  upon 
 fuch  an  unnatural  thought  as  this;  fihce  the  very  diffi- 
 cuiry  is  founded  upon  a  flat  contradidion  and  impoHi- 
 bility.  To  fay,  I  am  convinced  that  twice  two  are 
 four,  and  at  the  fame  time  to  talk  of  doubting  whether 
 my  faculties  do  not  deceive  me,  is  faying,  that  I  believe 
 twice  two  to  be  four,  and  at  the  fame  time  I  doubt  it ;  or 
 rather,  that  I  fee  it  to  be  fo,  and  yet  I  do  not  fee  it  to  be 
 fo.  A  felf-evident  truth  is  not  collected,  or  deduced,  but 
 intuitively  perceived,  or  feen  by  the  mind.  And  other 
 worlds,  and  other  ftates  of  things,  are  wholly  out  of  the 
 queilion.  The  ideas  in  my  mind  are  the  objedls  of  the 
 perception  of  my  mind,  as  much  as  outward  obje(5ls  of 
 my  eyes.  The  idea  of  tw^o  of  the  lunar  inhabitants  is 
 as  diPiin(5l  an  objed  in  my  mind,  fo  far  as  concerns  the 
 number,  as  that  of  two  fhiilings  in  my  hand.  And  I 
 fee  as  clearly,  that  twice  two  lunar  inhabitants  will 
 make  four  lunarians,  as  that  twice  two  fliillings  will 
 make  four  (liillings.  And  while  I  fee  this  to  be  fo,  I 
 fee  it  to  be  fo,  and  cannot  fufpedt  it  poffible  to  be  other- 
 wife.  I  may  doubt  the  perceptions  of  another  perfon>, 
 if  I  cannot  myfelf  perceive  the  fame  objedt:  But  1  can- 
 not doubt  what_l  myfelf  perceive,  cr  believe  that  to  be; 
 polTible,  which  I  fee  to  be  impoffible. 
 
 It  is  therefore  evident,  that  to  queflion  the  inform.a- 
 tion  of  our  faculties,  or  the  concluiions  of  our  reafon, 
 without  forae  ground  from  our  faculties  themfeives,  is 
 a  dired:  irapoffibility.  So  that  thofe  very  philofophers, 
 who  pretend  to  quefcion  the  informations  of  their  facul- 
 ties, neither  do,  nor  can  really  queilion  them,  io  long  as 
 they  appear  unqueftionable. 
 
 To  be  fufpicious  of  one's  own  judgment  in  all  cafes 
 where  it  is  poflible  to  err,  and  to  be  cautious  of  pro- 
 ceeding to  too  ralh  corjckifions,  is  the  very  charader  of 
 
 wifdom» 
 
f)/  Virtue.;  HUMAN  NATURE.  217 
 
 wifdom.  But  to  doubt,  or  rather  pretend  to  doubt, 
 where  reafon  fees  no  ground  for  doubt,  even  where  the 
 mind  diftindlly  perceives  truth,  is  endeavouring  at 
 a  pitch  of  folly,  of  which  Human  Nature  is  not  ca- 
 pable. 
 
 If  the  mind  is  any  thing,  if  there  are  any  reafoning 
 faculties,  what  is  the  objed  of  thofe  reafoning  facul- 
 ties ?  Not  falfehood :  For.  falfehood  is  a  negative,  a 
 mere  nothing,  and  is  not  capable  of  being  perceived,  or 
 of  being  an  objed:  of  the  mind.  If  therefore  there  is  a 
 rational  mind  in  the  univerfe,  the  objeci  of  that  mind  is 
 truth.  If  there  is  no  truth,  there  is  no  perception- 
 Whatever  the  mind  perceives,  fo  far  as  the  perception 
 is  real,  is  truth.  When  the  reafoning  faculty  is  de- 
 ceived, it  is  not  by  diftin6lly  feeing  fomething  that  is 
 not,  for  that  is  impoilible  ;  but  either  by  not  perceiving 
 fomething,  which,  if  perceived,  would  alter  the  ftate 
 of  the  cafe  upon  the  whole,  or  by  feeing  an  object  of 
 the  underftaiiding  through  a  falfe  medium.  But  thefe, 
 or  any  other  caufes  of  error,  do  by  no  means  afFedl  the 
 perception  of  a  llmple  idea ;  nor  the  perception  of  a 
 limple  relation  between  two  limple  ideas;  nor  a  fimple 
 inference  from  fuch  limple  relation.  No  mind  what- 
 ever can  diftindly  and  intuitively  perceive,  or  fee,  twice 
 two  be  five  :  Becaufe,  that  twice  two  fliould  be  five,  is 
 an  impoffibiiity  and  felf-contradiflion  in  terms,  as  much 
 as  faying  that  four  is  five,  or  that  a  thing  is  what  it  is 
 not.  Nor  can  any  m.ind  diftindly  perceive,  that  if  two 
 be  to  four  as  four  is  to  eight,  therefore  thrice  two  is  four, 
 for  that  would  be  diftindly  perceiving  an  impoffibiiity. 
 Now  an  impoffibiiity  is  what  has  no  exiftence,  nor  can 
 exift.  And  can  any  mind  perceive,  clearly  perceive, 
 what  does  not  exiil? 
 
 To  perceive  nothing,  or  not  to  perceive,  is  the  fame. 
 So  that  it  is  evident,  fo  much  of  any  thing  as  can  really 
 be  perceived,  muft  be  real  and  true.  There  is  there- 
 fore either  no  objed  of  mind,  no  rational  faculties  in  the 
 univerfe ;  or  there  is  a  real  truth  in  things  which  ihe  mind 
 perceives,  and  which  is  the  only  obj^ft  it  can  perceive, 
 in  the  fame  manner  as  ir  is  imp<^iiiole  for  the  eye  to 
 fee  abfolute  nothing,  or  to  ice,  and  not  fee,  at  the  fame 
 time.  3  The 
 
^i^  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IIL 
 
 The  only  point  therefore  to  be  attended  to,  is  to  en- 
 deavour at  clear  perceptions  of  things,  with  all  their 
 circumftances,  connexions,  and  dependences ;  which 
 requires  more  and  more  accuracy  and  attention,  accord- 
 ing as  the  conclufion  to  be  drawn  arifes  out  of  more  or 
 lels  complex  premifes ;  and  it  is  eafy  to  imagine  a  mind 
 capable  of  taking  in  a  much  greater  number  and  variety 
 of  particulars,  than  can  be  comprehended  by  any  hu- 
 man being,  and  of  feeing  clearly  through  all  their  mu- 
 tual relations,  however  minute,  extenlive,  or  compli- 
 cated. To  fuch  a  mind  all  kinds  of  difficulties  in  all 
 parts  of  knowledge,  might  be  aa  eafy  to  inveftigate,  as 
 to  us  a  common  queflion  in  arithmetic,  and  with  equal 
 certainty.  For  truths  of  all  kinds  are  alike  certain  and 
 alike  clear  to  minds,  whofe  capacities  and  ftates  qualify 
 them  for  inveftigating  them.  And  what  is  before  faid 
 with  regard  to  our  fafety  in  trufting  our  faculties  in 
 mathematical  or  arithmetical  points,  is  equally  jult  with 
 lefpect  to  moral  and  all  other  fubjeds.  Whatever  is  a 
 real,  clear,  and  diftind  object  of  perception,  muft  be 
 fome  real  exiftence.  For  an  abfolute  nothing  can  never 
 be  an  objefl  of  diflinfl  perception.  Now  the  differences, 
 agreements,  contrafts,  analogies,  and  all  other  relations  ob- 
 taining among  moral  ideas,  are  as  eflentially  real,  and  as 
 proper  fubjeds  of  reafoning,  as  thofe  in  numbers  and  ma- 
 thematics, lean  no  more  be  deceived,  nor  bring  mylelf 
 to  doubt  a  clear  moral  propofition,  or  axiom,  than  a 
 mathematical  one.  I  can  no  more  doubt  whether  hap- 
 pinefs  is  not  preferable  to  mifery,  than  whether  the 
 whole  is  not  greater  than  any  of  its  parts.  I  can  no  more 
 doubt,  whether  a  being  who  enjoys  lix  degrees  of  hap- 
 pinefs,  and  at  the  fame  time  labours  under  one  degree 
 of  miferv,  is  not  in  a  better  fituation  than  another,  who 
 enjoys  but  three  degrees  of  happinefs,  and  is  expofed  to 
 one  of  mifery,  fuppofing  thofe  degrees  equal  in  both, 
 than  1  can  doubt  whether  a  man,  who  is  poiTeiled  of 
 lix  thoufand  pounds  and  owes  one,  or  another,  who  is 
 worth  orly  three  thoufand  pounds  and  owes  one,  is  the 
 richer.  And  fo  of  all  other  cafes,  where  our  views 
 and  perceptions  are  clear  and  diftindl.  For  a  truth  of 
 one  fort  is  as  much  a  truth,  as  of  another  j  and,  when 
 
 •     fully 
 
Of  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE,  219 
 
 fully  perceived,  is  as  incapable  of  being  doubted  of  or 
 miltaken. 
 
 Yet  fome  have  argued,  that  though,  as  to  numbers 
 and  mathematics^  there  is  a  real  independent  truth  in  the 
 nature  of  things,  which  could  not  pollibly  have  been 
 otherwife,  it  is  quite  different  in  morals.  Though  it 
 was  impoffible  in  the  nature  of  things,  that  twice  two 
 lliould  be  five,  it  might  have  been  fo  contrived,  that, 
 univerfally,  what  is  now  virtue  fhould  have  been  vice, 
 and  what  is  now  vice  fliouL.l  have  been  virtue.  That, 
 all  our  natural  noti  )ns  of  right  and  wrong  are  wholly 
 arbitrary  and  faditious;  a  mere  inftinct  or  tafte  ^ 
 very  fuitable  indeed  to  the  prefent  ftate  of  things  :  but 
 by  no  means  founded  in  rerum  naturdy  and  only  the 
 pure  effect  of  a  politive  Ordination  of  Divine  Wifdom, 
 to  anfvver  certain  ends. 
 
 It  does  not  fuit  the  defign  of  this  work  to  enter  into 
 any  long  difcuffion  of  knotty  points.  But  I  would  afk 
 thofe  gentlemen,  who  maintain  the  above  doclrine. 
 Whether  the  Divine  fcheme  in  creating  an  univerfe,  and 
 communicating  happinefs  to  innumerable  beings,  which 
 before  had  no  exiftence,  was  not  good,  or  preferable  to 
 the  contrary  ?  If  they  fay,  there  was  no  good  in  creating 
 and  communicating  happinefs,  they  mult  fhew  the  wif- 
 dom of  the  infinitely-wqfe  Creator  in  choofing  rather  to 
 create  than  not.  They  muil  ^t.\^  how  (to  fpcak  with 
 reverence)  he  came  to  choofe  to  create  a  world.  For 
 lince  all  things  appear  to  him  exactly  as  they  are,  if  it 
 was  not  in  itfelf  wifer  and  better  to  create  than  not,  it 
 mufl  have  appeared  fo  to  him,  and  if  it  had  appeared 
 fo  to  him,  it  is  certain  he  never  had  produced  a  world. 
 
 To  this  fome  anfwer,  that  his  creatmg  a  world  was 
 not  the  confequence  of  his  feeing  it  to  be  in  itfelf  better 
 to  create  than  not ;  but  he  was  moved  to  it  by  the  be- 
 nevolence of  his  own  nature,  which  attribute  of  good- 
 nefs  or  benevolence  is,  as  well  as  benevolence  in  a  good 
 man,  according  to  their  notion  of  it,  no  more  than  a 
 tafte  or  inclination,  which  happens,  they  know  not  how^ 
 to  be  in  the  Divine  Nature;  but  is  in  itfelf  indifferent, 
 and  abftrading  from  its  confequences,  neither'  amiable 
 
 nor 
 
i20  .  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  iifi 
 
 nor  odious,  good  nor  bad.  To  this  the  reply  is  eafy,  to 
 vit,  That  there  is  not,  nor  can  be,  any  attribute  in  the 
 Divine  Nature,  that  could  poffibly  have  been  wanting ; 
 or  the  want  of  which  would  not  have  been  an  imper- 
 fecftion :  for  whatever  is  in  his  nature,  is  neceffkry,  elfe 
 it  could  not  be  in  his  nature  ;  neceffity  being  the  only 
 account  to  be  given  for  his  exiftence  and  attributes. 
 "Now  what  is  in  its  own  nature  indifferent,  cannot  be 
 faid  to  exift  neceffarily ;  therefore  could  not  exift  in 
 God.  To  queftion  whether  goodnefs  or  benevolence  in 
 the  Divine  Nature  is  necelTary  or  accidental,  is  the  fame, 
 as  quellioning  whether  the  very  exiftence  of  the  Deity 
 is  neceffkry  or  accidental.  For  whatever  is  in  God,  is 
 God.  And  to  queftion  whether  the  Divine  attribute 
 ofj  goodnefs  is  a  real  perfedion,  or  a  thing  indifferent, 
 that  is,  to  doubt,  whether  the  Divine  Nature  might  not 
 have  been  as  perfed:  without,  as  with  it;  comes  to  the 
 fame  as  queftioning,  whether  exiftence  is  a  thing  in- 
 different to  the  Deity,  or  not.  His  whole  nature  is  ex- 
 cellent;  is  the  abftracl:  of  excellence  ;  and  nothing  be- 
 longing to  him  is  indifferent.    Of  which  more  hereafter. 
 
 It  is  therefore  evident,  that  the  benevolence  of  the 
 Divine  Nature  is  in  itfelf  a  real  excellence  or  perfedlion, 
 independent  of  our  ideas  of  it,  and  cannot,  without  the 
 higheft  abfurdity,  not  to  fay  impiety,  be  conceived  of, 
 as  indifferent.  It  is  alfo  evident,  that.it  muft  have 
 been  upon  the  whole  better  that  the  univerfe  fnould  be 
 created,  and  a  number  of  creatures  produced  (in  order 
 to  be  partakers  of  various  degrees  and  kinds  of  happi- 
 nefs)  than  not ;  elfe  God,  who  fees  all  things  as.  they 
 are,  could  not  have  feen  any  reaion  for  creating,  and 
 therefore  would  not  have  created  them. 
 
 Let  it  then  be  fuppofed,  that  fome  being  fhould, 
 through  thoughleffnefs  and  voluntary  biindnels  at  firft, 
 and  afterwards  through  pride  and  rebellion,  at  length 
 work  up  his  malice  to  that  degree,  as  to  wifn  to  deftroy 
 the  whole  creation,  or  to  fubjedl  millions  of  innocent 
 beings  to  unfpeakable  mifery  ;  would  this  likewifc  be 
 good  ?  Was  it  better  to  create  than  not  ?  and  is  it  like- 
 wife  better  to  deft^roy  than  preferve  ?    Was  it   good  to 
 
 giv5 
 
Of  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  t-zi 
 
 give  being  and  happinefs  to  innumerable  creatures  ?  and 
 would  it  likevviie  be  good  to  plunge  innumerable  inno- 
 cent creatures  into  irrecoverable  ruin  and  mifery  ?  If 
 thefe  feeming  oppofites  be  not  entirely  the  fame,  then 
 there  is  in  morals  a  real  difference,  an  eternal  and  un- 
 changeable truth,  proportion,  agreement,  and  dilagree- 
 ment,  in  the  nature  of  things  ;  of  which  the  Divine  Na- 
 ture is  the  bafis)  independent  on  politive  will,  and 
 which  could  not  have  been  otherwife ;,  being  no  more  ar-^ 
 bitrary  or  factitious,  that  what  is  found  in  numbers,  or 
 mathematics.  So  that  a  wickedly-difpofed  being  would, 
 fo  long  as  he  continued  unreformed,  have  been  as  really 
 fo  in  any  other  ftate  of  things,  and  in  any  other  world, 
 as  in  this  in  which  we  live ;  and  a  good  being  would 
 have  been  equally  amiable  and  valuable  ten  thoufand 
 years  ago,  and  in  the  planet  Jupiter,  as  upon  earth,  and 
 in  our  times ;  and  the  difference  between  the  degrees 
 of  goodnefs  and  malignity  are  as  determinate, .  and  as 
 diilmclly  perceived  by  fuperior  beings,  as  between  a 
 hundred,  a  thoufand,  and  a  million  ',  or  between  a 
 line,  a  furface,  and  a  cube. 
 
 Nothing  is  more  evident,  than  that  we  can  enter  a 
 very  great  way  into  the  Divine  fcheme  in  the  natural 
 world,  and  fee  very  clearly  the  wifdom  and  contrivance, 
 which  fhine  confpicuous  in  every  part  of  it.  1  believe 
 nobody  ever  took  it  into  his  head  to  doubt,  whether 
 the  inhabitants  of  any  other  world  would  not  judge  the 
 fun  to  be  proper  for  giving  light,  the  eye  for  feeing,  the 
 ear  for  hearing,  and  fo  foith.  No  one  ever  doubted 
 whether  the  angel  Gabriel  conceived  of  the  wifdom  of 
 God  in  the  natural  world,  in  any  manner  contrary  to 
 what  we  do.  Why  then  fhould  people  fill  their  heads 
 with  fancies,  about  our  perceptions  of  moral  truth,  any 
 more  than  of  natural.  There  is  no  doubt,  but  we  have 
 all  our  clear  and  immediate  ideas,  by  our  being  capable 
 of  feeing,  or  apprehending  (within  a  certain  limited 
 fphere)  things  as  they  are  really  and  effentially  in  them- 
 felves.  And  we  may  be  affured,  that  fimple  truths  do 
 by  no  means  appear  to  our  minds  in  any  ftate  effentially 
 dilferent  from  or  contrary  to  that  in  which  they  appear 
 \o  the  mind  of  the  angel  Gabriel. 
 
 That 
 
422  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  III. 
 
 That  there  Is  a  poffibihty  of  attaining  certainty,  by 
 fenfation,  intuition,  deduction,  teltimony,  and  infpira- 
 tion,  feems  eafy  enough  to  prove.  For,  tirft,  where 
 fenfation  is,  all  other  arguments  or  proofs  are  fuperflu- 
 ous.  What  I  feel  1  cannot  bring  myfelf  to  doubt,  if  I 
 would.  I  niuft  either  really  exift  or  not.  But  I  cannot 
 even  be  miftakeo  in  imagining  I  feel  myownexiftence; 
 for  that  neceJGTarily  fuppoles  my  exifting.  I  feel  ray 
 mind  eafy  and  calm.  I  cannot,  if  i  would,  bring  myfelf 
 to  doubt,  whether  my  mind  is  ealy  and  calm.  Becaufe 
 I  feel  aperfe(S  internal  tranquillity  ;  and  there  is  nothing 
 within  or  without  me  to  perfuade  me  to  doubt  the 
 reality  of  what  I  feel ;  and  what  I  really  feel,  fo  far  as 
 I  really  feel  it,  muft  be  real  ;  it  being  abfurd  to  talk  of 
 feeling  or  perceiving  what  has  no  i'eal  exigence. 
 
 Again,  there  is  no  natural  abfurdity  in  fappofing  it 
 poffible  for  a  human  or  other  intelligent  mind,  to  arrive 
 at  a  clear  and  dillind  perception  of  truth  by  intuitioUo 
 On  the  contrary,  the  fuppolition  of  the  poffibility  of 
 a  faculty  of  intelligence  necelTarily  infers  the  poffi- 
 bility of  the  exiftence  of  truth,  as  the  objeft  of  in- 
 telligence, and  of  truth's  being  in  the  univerfe  ca- 
 pable of  underftanding  truth,  there  mult  be  truth  for 
 that  being  to  underftand  ;  and  that  truth  muft  be 
 within  the  reach  of  his  underftanding.  But  as  it  is 
 felf-evident,  that  there  are  an  infinite  number  of  ideal, 
 or  conceivable  truths,  it  is  likewife  evident,  there  mull 
 be  an  infinitely  comprehenlive  underftanding,  which 
 perceives  thisinfinity  of  truths.  To  talk  of  a  truth  per-: 
 ceiveable  by  no  mind,  or  that  never  has  been  the  objedl 
 of  any  perceptive  faculty,  would  be  a  felf-contradiclion, 
 Mmd  is  the  ytxy  fubjlratumoi  truth.  An  infinite  mind 
 of  infinite  truth.  That  a  finite  underftanding  may  at- 
 tain a  fmite  perception  of  truth,  is  necellary  to  be  ad- 
 mitted, unlefs  we  deny  the  pofiibility  of  the  exiftence 
 of  any  finite  underftanding.  For  an  underftanding 
 capable  of  attaining  no  degree  of  knowledge  of  truth, 
 or  an  underftanding  which  neither  did  nor  could  un- 
 derftand or  perceive  any  one  truth,  is  a  contradiction  in 
 words.  Proceeding  in  this  train  of  reafoning,  we  fay. 
 Either  there  is  no  fuch  thing  as  intuition  poffible,  or  it 
 
 mull 
 
Of  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATUTRE.  223 
 
 muft  be  poflible  by  intuition  to  perceive  truth  ;  there 
 is  no  fuch  thing  as  fenfation  poflible,  or  it  muft  be  pof- 
 fibie  for  the  mind  to  perceive  real  objedls.  That  what 
 we  adually  and  really  apprehend  by  intuition  and  fen- 
 fation, muft  be  fomewhat  veal,  as  far  as  adually  and 
 really  apprehended  ;  it  being  impoflible  to  apprehend 
 that  which  is  not.  Now,  the  eviJenceof  the  reality  of 
 any  exiftence,  or  the  truth  of  any  propolition,  let  it  be 
 conveyed  to  the  mind  by  dedudion,  by  teftimony,  by 
 revelation,  or  if  there  were  a  thoufand  other  methods  of 
 information,  would  ftill  be  reducible  at  laft  to  diredl 
 intuition  ;  excepting  what  arifes  from  fenfation.  The 
 mind,  in  judging  of  any  propolition,  through  whatever 
 channel  communicated  to  it,  or  on  whatever  arguments 
 eftabliftied,  judges  of  the  ftrength  of  the  evidence  ',  it 
 makes  allowance  for  the  objections  ;  it  balances  the  ar- 
 guments, or  confiderations  of  whatever  kind,  againft 
 one  another,  it  fees  which  preponderates^  And  fup- 
 poling  this  to  be  done  properly,  it  fees  the  true  ftate  of 
 the  cafe,  and  determines  accordingly ;  nor  can  it  pofli- 
 bly  determine  contrary  to  what  it  fees  to  be  the  true 
 ftate  of  the  cafe. 
 
 When,  for  example,  I  confider  in  my  ow^n  mind,  on 
 one  hand,  the  various  evidence  from  authors  and  remains 
 of  anriquity,  that  there  was  formerly  fuch  a  ftate  as  the 
 Koman,  which  conquered  great  part  of  this  fide  of  the 
 globe  ;  and  on  the  other,  find  no  reafon  for  doubting 
 of  the  exiftence  of  fuch  a  ftate  in  former  times,  I  find 
 it  as  reafonable  to  believe  it,  and  as  impoflible  to  doubt 
 it,  as  to  doubt  the  folution  of  a  queftion  in  numbers  or 
 quantity,  which  I  had  proved  by  arithmetic  vulgar  and 
 decimal,  and  by  Algebra.  And  fo  of  other  inftances. 
 So  that,  though  it  would  not  be  proper  to  fay,  I  fee,  by 
 intuition,  the  truth  of  this  propofition,  "  there  was 
 "  once  fuch  a  city  as  Rome ;''"'  yet  I  may  with  the 
 utmoft  propriety  fay,  I  fee  fuch  a  fuperabundance  of 
 evidence  for  the  truth  of  the  propofition,  and  at  the 
 fame  time  fee  no  reafon  to  think  that  any  valid  objec- 
 tions can  be  brought  againft  it,  that  1  intuitively  fee 
 the  evidence  for  it  to  be  fuch  as  puts  it  beyond  all 
 poflibility  of  being  doubted  by  me,  and  feel  that, 
 '  though 
 
ff24  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IB. 
 
 though  I  fnould  labour  ever  fo  much  to  bring  myfeif  to 
 queftion  it,  I  abfolutely  cannot ;  nor  can  I  conceive  it 
 pollible  that  it  fhould  appear  queftionabie  to  any  perfon, 
 ■who  has  fairly  confidered  it, 
 
 Suppofe,  in  the  fame  manner,  (in  a  point  which  has 
 been  difputed)  a  man,  of  a  clear  head,  to  have  the- 
 roughly  examined  all  the  various  evidences  for  the 
 Chriftian  religion,  allowing  to  every  one  its  due  weight, 
 and  no  more  ;  fuppofe  him  to  have  attentively  conli- 
 dered  every  objeftion  againft  it,  allowing,  likewife,  to 
 every  one  impartially  its  full  force  ;  fuppofe  the  refult 
 of  the  whole  inquiry  to  be  his  finding  fuch  a  prepon- 
 derancy  of  evidence  for  the  truth  ot  Chriftianity,  as 
 fiiould  beyond  all  coraparifon  over-balance  the  whole 
 weight  of  the  objeclions  againft  it ;  I  fay,  that  fuch  a 
 perfon  v.'ould  then  intuitively  fee  the  evidence  for  Chrif- 
 ijanity  to  be  unfurmountable ;  and  could  no  more 
 bring  himfelf  to  doubt  it,  than  to  doubt  whether  all  the 
 angles  of  a  triangle  are  equal  to  two  right  ones ;  nor  to 
 conceive  the  poffibility  of  any  other  perfon's  doubting 
 it,  who  had  fairly  conlidered  both  fides  of  the  queftion. 
 
 In  the  fame  manner  a  perfon,  who  fhould  carefully 
 exam>ine  the  arguments  in  afyftem  of  ethics,  and  fhould 
 clearly  and  convincingly  perceive  the  flrength  of  each, 
 the  connection  of  one  Vv^ith  another,  and  the  refult  of 
 the  whole  ;  might  in  the  ftrifteft  propriety  of  fpeech  be 
 £\iid  to  fee  intuitively  the  truth  and  juftnefs  of  thai; 
 lyilem  of  ethics. 
 
 If  fo,  then  it  is  plain,  that  certainty  is,  in  the  nature 
 of  things,  equally  attainable 'upon  all  fubjeds,  though 
 beings  of  our  limited  capacity  may  not,  in  our  prefect 
 imperfecl  flate,  be  capable  of  attaining  it.  In  the  fame 
 manner  as  the  truth  of  the  moft  obvious  axiom  in  arith- 
 metic or  geom.etry,  may  lie  out  of  the  reach  of  an  infant, 
 cr  an  idiot ;  which  appears  felf-evident  to  the  firft 
 glance  of  any  mind  that  is  capable  of  putting  two 
 thoughts  together.  How  comes  it  to  pafs,  that  the 
 truth  of  fuch  an  axiom  as  the  following  appears  imme- 
 diately inconteltable :  That  if  from  equal  quantities 
 equal  quantities  be  fubtraded,  equal  quantities  will  re- 
 
 mam^ 
 
'Of  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  225 
 
 iTsain  ?  How  conies,  I  fay,  the  truth  of  this  axiom  to 
 appear  at  once,  while  moral  doftrines  furnifli  endlefs 
 difpute  ?  The  obvious  anfvver  is,  from  the  fmiplicity 
 of  the  terms  of  the  propofition,  and  of  what  is  affirmed 
 of  them,  which  leaves  no  room  for  ambiguity  or  uncer- 
 tainty \  and  from  the  narrownefs  of  the  fubjed  to  be 
 coniidered,  or  the  fmallnefs  of  the  number  of  ideas  to 
 be  taken  in,  which  prevents  all  danger  of  puzzling,  or 
 diftradling  the  underftanding,  and  rendering  the  refult 
 or  conclulion  doubtful.  Suppofe  the  arguments  for 
 Chriftianity  to  be  exadly  one  thoufand^  and  the  objec- 
 tions againfl;  itexacllyone  hundred  ;  Suppofe  an  angelic, 
 or  other  fuperior  underftanding,  to  perceive  intuitively 
 the  exadl  ftate  of  each  ;  and  to  fee  diftindlly  the  hun- 
 dred objedions  to  be  furmountable,  or  not  valid,  and. 
 the  argument's  to  every  one  folid  andconclufive  ;  I  fay, 
 that  fuch  a  being  would  intuitively  fee  the  truth  of 
 Chriftianity  in  the  fame  manner  as  a  human  mind  fees 
 the  truth  of  any  complex  demonftration  in  Euclid, 
 
 It  is  therefore  certain,  that  all  evidence  whatever  is 
 to  be  finally  tried  by,  and  reduced  to  intuition,  except 
 that  which  we  have  from  fenfation :  That  truth  of  all 
 kinds  is  equally  capable  of  being  intuitively  perceived^ 
 and  of  being  afcertained  to  minds  fitted  for  receiving 
 and  examining  it :  That  moral  truth  is  in  no  refped: 
 naturally  more  vague  or  precarious  than  mathematical ; 
 but  equally  fixed,  and  equally  clear,  to  fuperior  minds; 
 and  probably  will  be  fo  hereafter  to  thofe  of  the  human 
 make,  who  iliall  attain  to  higher  improvements  in  future 
 ftates :  And  that  in  the  mean  time  our  duty  is  to  examine 
 carefully,  and  to  aft  upon  the  refult  of  candid  inquiry. 
 
 That  we  are,  in  fome  inftances  of  inconfiderable  im- 
 portance to  our  final  happinefs,  liable  to  etror,  is  no 
 more  than  a  natural  confequence  of  the  imperfedion  of 
 our  prefent  ftate,  and  the  number  of  particulars  necef- 
 fary  to  be  taken  in,  in  order  to  find  out  the  true  ftate  of 
 things  upon  the  whole.  But  this,  fo  tar  from  proving 
 the  impoffibility  of  coming  at  truth,  or  that  we  are  ex- 
 pofed  to  irremediable  error,  fliews,  that  truth  is  cer- 
 tainly to  be  attained  by  fuch  intelligent  beings  as  ihall 
 
 Q^  with 
 
2:^6  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I5l 
 
 with  proper  advancages  of  capacity  and  means,  fet 
 themfelves  to  the  finding  it  out  with  fincerity  and  dili- 
 gence. 
 
 The  amount  of  what  has  been  faid  on  moral  certainty 
 is  briefly  as  follows,  'viz. 
 
 That  it  is  felf-contradidory  to  talk  of  doubting  the 
 perceptions  of  our  faculties,  it  being  impoflible  to  per^ 
 ceive  a  truth  clearly,  and  yet  to  doubt  it. 
 
 That  cur  firaple  ideas,  being  the  immediate  objecfls 
 cf  ourunderftandirgs,  and  beinglevel  todirecl  intuition, 
 •are  capable  of  being  with  the  greateft  exadnefs  exa- 
 mined and  compared,  in  order  to  the  finding  the  truth 
 or  faliehood  of  any  propofition,  whofe  terms  are  not  too 
 complex,  or  otherwife  out  of  the  reach  of  our  faculties. 
 And  that  whatever  the  underftanding  clearly  determines, 
 yfter  mature  examination,  to  be  truth,  it  is  impoflible 
 to  doubt. 
 
 That  whatever  any  mind  really  perceives  muft  be 
 real,  as  far  as  perceived.  That  therefore,  there  muft  be 
 real  truth  perceiveable,  clfe  there  could  be  no  perceptive 
 faculty  in  the  univerfe  ;  fince  falfehoods  and  impollibili* 
 ties  are  not  in  the  nature  of  things  perceiveable,  being 
 non-entities. 
 
 That  all  kinds  of  truths  appear  equally  certain  to 
 minds  capable  of  inveftigating  them.  That  moral  truth 
 is  in  its  own  nature  no  more  vague  or  precarious,  than 
 mathematical ;  though  in  fome  inftances  more  difii- 
 culrly  inveiiigated  by  our  narrow  and  deftclive  faculties, 
 
 T'iiat  there  mud  be  in  the  nature  of  things,  (the 
 bads  of  which  is  the  Divine  Nature)  an  eternal,  eiten- 
 tial,  and  unchangeable  difference  in  morals  ;  that  there 
 is  a  real,  not  a  factitious,  or  arbitrary,  good  and  evil,  a 
 greater  and  lefs  preferablenefs  in  different  characters 
 and  actions.  That,  accordingly,  if  it  had  been  in  the 
 nature  of  things  no  way  better  that  an  univerfe  fliould 
 be  created,  than  not ;  it  is  evident,  God,  who  fees  all 
 things  as  they  are,  would  not  have  feen  any  reafon  for 
 creating  an  univerfe,  and  therefore  would  not  have  ex- 
 erted his  power  in  the  production  of  it. 
 
 That  the  Divine  attribute  of  benevolence,  is,  in  its 
 own  nature,  really  and  eiTentially,  and  without  all  regard 
 
 to 
 
BfVlrtut.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  ^27 
 
 the  notions  of  created  beings,  and  exclafive  of  all  con- 
 fequences,  a  perfection  ;  not  an  indifferent  property,  as 
 ibme  pretend.  For  that  nothing  either  evil  or  indif- 
 ferent can  be  conceived  of  as  exifting  neceffariiy  :  but 
 the  Divine  Benevolence  and  all  the  other  attributes  of 
 his  nature  exift  neceffarily. 
 
 That  if  it  was  proper,  or  good,  to  create  an  univerfe 
 of  beings  capable  of  happinefs,  it  mud  on  the  contrary 
 be  improper,  or  morally  wicked,  to  endeavour  to  oppof^ 
 the  Divine  fcheme  of  Benevolence,  or  to  willi  innocent 
 beings  condemned  to  raifety.  There  is  therefore  an 
 eternal  and  elTenrial,  not  a  faclitious,  or  arbitraty,  good 
 and  evil  in  morals ;  and  the  foundation  of  moral  good 
 is  in  the  necelTary  and  unchangeable  attributes  of  the 
 Divine  Narure. 
 
 That  certainty  is  in  the  nature  of  things  attainable 
 by  fenfation.  That  reality  muft  be  the  object  of  fenfa- 
 Tion,  it  being  impoffible  to  feel  what  has  no  exiftence. 
 That  it  is  impoffible  to  doubt  what  we  perceive  by 
 fenfation. 
 
 That  certainty  is  in  the  nature  of  thing!*  attainable 
 by  intuition.  That  the  exiftence  of  inreiiigence  neccf- 
 faril}^  fuppofes  thatof  truth,  as  the  object  of  undsrftand- 
 ing.  That  truth  is  a  Divine  Attribute  ;  therefore  rauft 
 exift  neceltarily.  That  every  intelligent  mind  muft  be 
 Aippofed  capable  of  intuitively  perceiving  truth.  And 
 that  we  find  by  experience,  we  cannot  even  force  our- 
 f:?lves  to  doubt  the  truths  we  intuitively  perceive. 
 
 That  fuch  certainty  is  in  the  nathre  of  things  attain- 
 able in  fubjeds  of  which  we  receive  information  by 
 tleduclion,  teftimony,  and  revelation,  as  renders  it  im- 
 poffible for  the  mind  to  hefitate  or  doubt.  For  that 
 the  fam,  or  refult,  of  all  kinds  of  evidence,  however 
 complex  and  various,  except  what  arifes  from  fenfation  ^ 
 is  the  object,  of  diredl  intuition. 
 
 To  conclude  this  introdufllon :  weire  our  prefent 
 ftate  much  more  difadvantageous  than  it  is  ;  did  we 
 labour  under  much  greater  difficulty  arid  uncertainty; 
 than  vve  do,  in  our  fearch  after  truth  ;  prudence  would 
 Itill  direct  us,  upon  the  v.'hole,  what  caurfe  to  take. 
 The  probability  of  fafety  in  the, main  would  ftiil  be 
 
228  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  ilL 
 
 upon  the  fide  of  virtue  ;  and  there  would  {till  be  reafon 
 to  jear  that  vice  and  irregularity  would  end  ill.  This 
 alone  would  be  enough  to  keep  wife  and  confiderate 
 beings  to  their  duty,  as  far  as  known.  But  our  condi- 
 tion is  vei-y  different ;  and  our  knowledge  of  all  nece£- 
 fary  truth  fufficiently  clear,  extenlive  and  certain. 
 
 SECT.     I. 
 
 The  Being  and  Attributes  of  God  eJlahUJhed  as  the  Foun-' 
 dation  of  McraUty, 
 
 NOTHING  is  n:iore  indifputable  than  that  fome-^ 
 thing  now  exifls.  Every  perfonmay  fay  to  him- 
 felf,  "  I  certainly  exift  :  for  I  feel  that  I  exill.  And 
 **  1  could  neither  feel  that  I  exift,  nor  be  deceived  in 
 *'  imagining  it,  if  I  was  nothing.  If,  therefore,  I  exift, 
 *'  the  next  queftion  is,  Hovv^  I  came  to  be  ?"  Whatever 
 exifts,  muft  owe  its  being,  and  the  particular  circura- 
 ftances  of  it,  to  fome  caufe  prior  to  itfelf,  unlefs  it  exifts 
 neceflarily.  For  a  being  to  exift  neceffarily,  is  to  exift 
 fo  as  that  ix  was  impoftible  for  that  being  not  to  have 
 exifted,^  and  that  the  fuppofition  of  its  notexifting  Should 
 imply  a  dired:  contradidion  in  terms.  Let  any  perfon 
 try  to  conceive  of  fpace  and  duration  as  annihilated,  or 
 not  exifting,  and  he  will  find  it  impoffible,  and  that 
 they  will  ftill  return  upon  his  mind  in  fpite  of  all  his 
 efforts  to  the  contrary.  Such  an  exiftence  therefore  is 
 iieceflary,  of  v/hich  there  is  no  other  account  to  be  given, 
 than  that  it  is  the  nature  of  the  thing  to  exift  \  and 
 this  account  is  fully  fatisfying  to  the  mind. 
 
 "Whatever  difficulty  we  may  find  in  conceiving  of  the 
 particular  modus  of  a  necefiary  exiftence  ;  an  exiftence 
 ■which  always  was,  and  could  not  but  be  ;  always  con- 
 tinuingy  but  which  never  had  a  beginning;  as  all  the 
 difficulty  of  fuch  conceptions  evidently  arifes  from  the 
 narrownefs  of  our  finite  and  limited  minds,  and  as  oup 
 reafon  forces  us  upon  granting  the  reality  and  necef- 
 fity  of  them,  it  would  be  contradi6ling  the  moft  ir- 
 relillible  convi6lions  of  our  reafon  to  difpute  them  j  and 
 it  is  indeed  out  of  our  power  to  difpute  them. 
 
 To 
 
Of  Virtue.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  229 
 
 Tohaverecourfe  to  an  infinite  fucceflion  of  dependent 
 caufes,  produced  by  one  another  from  eternity,  and  to 
 give  that  as  an  account  of  the  exiftence  of  the  world, 
 will  give  no  fatisfadion  to  the  mind,  but  vi^ill  confound 
 it  with  an  infinite  abfurdity.  For  if  it  be  abfurd  to  at- 
 tempt to  conceive  of  one  fingle  dependent  being,  pro- 
 duced without  a  caufe,  or  exifling  without  being 
 brought  into  exiftence  by  fome  pre-exifting  caute,  it  is 
 infinitely  more  fb  to  try  to  conceive  of  an  infinite  levies 
 of  dependent  beings  exifting  without  being  produced 
 by  any  original  and  uncreated  caufe;  as  it  wouldbe  more 
 fhocking  to  talk  of  a  thoufand  links  of  a  chain  lianging 
 upon  nothing,  than  of  one. 
 
 That  the  material  world  is  not  the  firft  caufe,  is  evi- 
 dent; becaufe  the  firft  caufe,  exifting  neceftariiy,  with- 
 out which  neceflity  he  could  not  poffibly  exift  as  a  firfl 
 caufe,  muft  be  abfolutely  perfe6l,  uncliangeable,  and 
 every  wiiere  the  fame,  of  which  afterwards.  This  vv^e 
 fee  is  by  no  means  to  be  affirmed  of  the  material  v>\' rid ; 
 its  form,  motion,  and  fubftance,  being  endlefsly  various, 
 and  fubjedt  to  perpetual  change.  That  nothing  mate- 
 rial could  have  been  the  neceflTarily  exiftent  firft  caufe 
 is  evident,  becaufe  we  know^  that  all  material  fubftances 
 confift  of  a  number  of  unconne6ted  and  feparable  parti- 
 cles ;  which  would  give,  not  one,  but  a  number  of  firft 
 caufes,  which  is  a  palpable  abfurdity.  And  that  the 
 firft  caufe  cannot  be  one  fingle  indivifible  atom  is  plain, 
 becaufe  the  firft  caufe,  being  neceflTarily  exiftent,  mall 
 be  equally  necelTary  throughout  infinite  fpace. 
 
 That  chance,  which  is  only  a  word,  not  a  real  being, 
 Hiould  be  the  caufe  of  the  exiftence  of  the  world,  is  the 
 fame  as  faying,  that  nothing  is  the  caufe  of  its  exiftence, 
 or  that  it  neither  exifts  neceftariiy,  nor  was  produced  by 
 that  which  exifts  necefTarily,  and  therefore  does  not  exift: 
 at  all.  Therefore,  after  fuppofing  ever  fo  long  a  ferics 
 of  beings  producing  one  another,  we  muft  at  laft:  have 
 recourfe  to  fome  Firft  Caufe  of  all,  himfclf  uncaufed, 
 exifting  neceftlirily,  or  fo,  as  tlr.it  the  fuppofition  of  his 
 not  exifting  v/ould  imply  a  contradidion.  This  firlt 
 caufe  we  call  God. 
 
 The  firft  caufe  muft  of  neceflity  be  one,  in  the  moft 
 pure,  fimple,  and  indivifible  manner.     For  the  firll 
 
 0^3  caufu 
 
;s3o  .  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  ITT. 
 
 eaiiie  muil  ex  id  neceiTarily,  that  is,  it  is  a  dircft  ab- 
 furdity  to  fay,  that  ibmething  now  exifts,  and  yet  there 
 is  no  original  firft  caufe  of  exiftence.  Now,  when  to 
 avoid  this  abfurdity,  we  have  admitted  one  indepen- 
 dent, neceffarily  exiftent  firft  caufe,  if  we  afterwards 
 proceed  to  admit  another  firfc  caufe,  or  number  of  firft 
 caufes,  we  ftiall  find,  that  all  but  one  are  iiiperfliious. 
 JBecaufe  one  is  fufficient  to  account  for  the  exiftence  of 
 all  things.  And  as  it  will  evidently  be  no  contradic- 
 tion to  fuppofe  any  one  out  of  a  plurality  not  to  exift, 
 iince  one  alone  is  fufficient  ;  it  follovv's,  that  there  can 
 be  but  one  lingle  firft  caufe. 
 
 Befides,  it  will  be  made  evident  by  and  by,  that  the 
 ■firft  caufe  rnuft  be  abfoiutely  perfedl  in  every  pofiible 
 refpedt,  and  in  every  poftible  degree.  Now  that  which 
 ingroftes  and  fwallows  up  into  itfelf  all  poilibie  perfec- 
 tion, or  rather  is  itfelf  abfolute  perfection,  can  be  bus 
 one;  becaufe  there  can  be  but  one  abiolute  Whole  of 
 perfetflion. 
 
 We  may  poftibly,  through  inattention,  commit  mi- 
 ftakes  with  refpe^s  to  what  are,  or  are  not,  perfeclions 
 fie  to  be  afcribed  to  the  firft  caufe,  as  fome  of  the  Hea- 
 thens were  abfurd  enough  to  afcribe  even  to  their  fii- 
 preme  deity,  attributes  which  ought  rather  to  be  termed, 
 vices  than  virtues.  But  we  can  never  miftake  in  afcri« 
 bing  to  the  Supreme  Being  all  poftible,  real,  and  con- 
 liftent  perfedions.  For  a  Being,  who  exifts  naturally 
 and  necelikiily,  muft  of  neceflity  exift  in  an  infinite  and, 
 unbounded  manner,  the  ground  of  his  exiftence  being 
 alike  in  all  moments  of  duration,  and  all  points  of  fpace. 
 Whatever  exifts  naturally  and  necefi'arily  in  the  Eaft, 
 muft  of  courfe  exiil  naturally  and  necefiarily  in  the 
 Weft,  in  the  South,  and  in  the  North,  above  and  be- 
 low, in  former,  prefent,  and  in  future  times.  What- 
 ever exills  in  this  manner,  exiils  in  a  perfect  manner. 
 Whatever  exifts  in  a  perfect  manner,  in  refped:  of  extent 
 and  duration,  muft  evidently  be  perfed  in  every  other 
 refpedi:,  of  which  its  nature  is  capable.  For  the  whole 
 idea  of  fuch  a  Being  is  by  the  fuppofition  natural  and 
 rieceifary  ;  a  partial  neceifity  being  an  evident  abfur- 
 dity. That  the  firft  caufe  therefore  Ihouid  be  deficient' 
 In  any,-  one  perfedlion  confiftent  with  the  nature  of  fucii 
 
 a  Being; 
 
OfVh-tue.J  HUMAN  NATURE.  23? 
 
 a  Being  as  we  miift  conclude  the  firft  caufe  to  be,  is  as 
 evident  a  contradidlion  as  to  fay,  that  the  firft  caufe 
 may  naturally  and  neceirarily  exilt  in  the  Eall^,  and  not 
 in  the  Well,  at  prefent,  but  not  in  time  pad  or  to  coine. 
 For  fuppofe  it  were  argued,  that  the  firft  caufe  may 
 not  be  infinite,  for  example,  in  wifdom  ;  1  alk  firft. 
 Whether  wifdom  can  be  faid  to  be  a  property  unfuit- 
 ablc  to  the  i'dea  of  the  firft  caufe  r  This  will  hardly  be 
 pretended.  No  one  can  imagine  it  would  be  a  mor& 
 proper  idea  of  the  firft  caufe,  to  think  of  him  as  of  a 
 Being  utterly  void  of  intelligence,  than  as  infinite  ia 
 knowledge.  It  is  evident,  that  of  two  beings,  other- 
 wife  alike,  but  one  of  which  was  wholly  void  of  intel- 
 ligence, and  the  other  pofiefled  of  it;  the  latter  would 
 be  more  perfect  than  the  former,  by  the  differtnce  of 
 the  whole  amount  of  the""  intelligence  he  poffeiTed.  On 
 the  other  hand,  of  tvv^o  beings  otherwife  alike,  but  one 
 of  which  laboured  under  a  vicious  inclination,  which 
 occafioned  a  deviation  from,  or  deficiency  of  moral  per- 
 fedtion,  and  the  other  was  wholly  clear  of  fuch  imper- 
 fection, the  latter  would  be  a  more  perfed:  nature  than 
 the  former,  by  the  difference  of  the  whole  amount  of 
 fuch  negative  quantity,  or  deficiency.  Which  fliews 
 the  necefl[ity  of  afcribing  to  the  Supreme  Being  every 
 pofiible  real  perfeclion,  and  the  abfurdity  of  fuppofing 
 the  fmalleft  imperfedion  or  deficiency  to  be  in  his  na- 
 ture. 
 
 If  it  be  evident  then  that  wiflom,  in  any  the  lowed 
 degree,  is  an  attribute  fit  to  be  afcribed  to  the  firft 
 caufe,  and  if  whatever  is  in  the  firlt  caufe,  is  in  him 
 natuially  and  neceflarily,  that  is,  could  not  but  have 
 been  in  him,  it  is  obvious,  that  fuch  an  attribute  can- 
 not be  in  him  in  any  limited  degree,  any  mote  than  he 
 can  naturally  and  necelfadly  exift  in  one  point  of  fpace, 
 and  not  through  all:  It  is  an  evident  coniradiclion  to 
 fuppofe  the  firft  caufe  exifting  naturally  and  neceiiarily, 
 and  yet  limited,  either  as  to  his  exil^.ence  or  perfec- 
 tions;  becaufe  it  is  plain,  there  can  be  nothing  to  limit 
 them,  which  is  the  fiime  as. faying,  that  they  muft  be 
 unlimited.  Farther,  whatever  is  in  the  nature  or  ef- 
 ience  of  the  firft  caufe,  muft  be  in  him  nature lly  and 
 
 0^4  neceftHrJI  V  ^ 
 
532  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Rook  III. 
 
 neceflTarily ;  that  is,  is  an  eflential  attribute  of  his  na- 
 ture, or  could  not  but  have  been  in  his  nature  *,  for  if 
 it  had  been  poffible  that  his  nature  could  have  been 
 without  any  particular  attribute,  it  certainly  would,  by 
 the  very  fuppofition.  Now,  whatever  is  neceflarily  an 
 attribute  of  Deity,  is  Deity.  And  limited  Deity  is  a 
 contradiction  as  much  as  limited  infinity.  For  infinity 
 is  unbounded,  knowledge  is  unbounded,  power  is  un- 
 bounded, goodnefs  is  unbounded.  I'hefe  and  the  reil 
 are  the  neceiTary  attributes  of  Deity.  And  as  they  are 
 in  him,  they  together  form  the  idea  of  fupreme  Deity. 
 The  Deity,  or  firft  caufe,  muft  therefore  be  pofleffed 
 of  every  pofiible  perfedion  in  an  infinite  degree,  all 
 thofe  perfedions  being  naturally  infinite,  and  there  be- 
 ing nothing  to  lin^it  the  Deity,  or  his  perfections. 
 
 We  cannot  therefore  avoid  concluding,  that  the  firft 
 caufe  is  poiTefl'ed  of  infinite  intelligence,  or  knowledge, 
 that  his  infinite  mind  is  a  treafure  of  an  infinity  of 
 of  truths,  that  he  has  ever  had  at  all  moments  from  all 
 eternity,  and  ever  will  to  all  eternity  have  in  his  view, 
 and  in  adual  contemplation,  all  things  that  ever  have 
 exifted,  that  do  now,  or  ever  fliall  exift,  throughout  in- 
 finite fpace  and  duration,  with  all  their  connexions,  re» 
 lations,  dependences,  gradations,  proportions,'  diffe- 
 rences, contrails,  caufes,  efieds,  and  all  circumftances 
 of  all  kinds,  with  the  ideas  of  all  things  which  are 
 merely  pofiible,  or  whofe  exiftence  does  not  imply  a 
 contradidion,  though  they  have  never  adlually  exifted, 
 with  all  their  pofiible. relations,  connexions,  and  cir- 
 cumftances, whofe  idea  is  conceivable.  In  one  word, 
 the  Divine  mind  muft  comprehend  all  things  that  by^ 
 their  nature  are  capable  of  being  know  or  conceived. 
 
 From  the  fame  neceflary  connection  between  the  in- 
 finity of  the  firft  caufe  in  one  particular,  and  in  all,  we 
 cannot  avoid  concluding,  that  he  muft  be  infinite  in 
 goodnefs ;  it  being  felf-evident,  that  goodnefs  or  be- 
 nevolence muft  in  any  ftate  of  things  be  a  perfedlion, 
 and  the  want  of  any  degree  of  it  a  deficiency.  To  be 
 infinite  in  goodnefs,  is  to  poflefs  fuch  benevolence  of 
 nature,  as  no  conceivable  or  pofiible  meafure  of  good- 
 nefs can  exceed,  or  v/hich  can  never  be  fatisfied  with 
 
 exerting 
 
Vf  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  233 
 
 exerting  itfelf  in  adls  of  goodnefs,  in  a  manner  fuitable 
 to  propriety  and  red:itude. 
 
 Here  a  proper  diftindion  ought  to  be  made  between 
 goodnels  and  mercy.  Though  it  is  dennonftrably  cer- 
 tain, that  the  Supreme  Being  is  infinite  in  goodnef*,  we 
 muft  not  imagine  he  is  infinite  in  mercy.  Bccaufe  we 
 can  fuppoie  innumerable  cafes,  in  which  mercy  to  par- 
 ticulars Avould  imply  a  defeat  of  goodnefs  upon  the 
 whole.  In  fuch  cafes,  it  is  evident,  that  the  greatell 
 goodnefs,  upon  the  whole,  will  appear  in  refufi.ng  mercy 
 to  particulars  ;  not  in  granting  it.  We  mult  therefore 
 conclude,  that  mercy  will  certainly  be  refufed  to  all 
 fach  offenders,  whom  juilice  and  goodnefs  to  the  whole 
 require  to  be  punifhed.  Thus  the  Divine  goodnefs  is 
 not  bounded  in  its  extent,  but  only  regulated  in  its  ex- 
 ertion by  wifdom  and  juftice. 
 
 From  the  fame  necellity  for  concluding  that  the  firfl 
 caufe  mua  be  uniformly,  and  in  all  coniift:ent  refpeds 
 infinite,  we  muft  conclude,  that  he  is  poffeffed  of  an 
 infinite  degree  of  power;  it  being  evident,  that  power 
 is  a  perfedion,  and  preferable  to  weaknefs.  Infinite 
 power  fignifies  a  power  at  all  moments  from  eternity  to 
 eternity,  and  throughout  all  fpace,  to  produce  or  per- 
 form whatever  dges  not  either  in  the  nature  of  the 
 thing  imply  an  exprefs  contradidion,  as  making  fome- 
 thing  to  be,  and  not  to  be  at  the  fame  time,  or  oppofes 
 fome  of  the  other  perfedions  of  his  nature,  as  the  doing 
 fomething  unjuft,  cruel,  or  foolifli.  And  indeed  all 
 fach  things  are  properly  impoffibilities.  Becaufe  it  is 
 altogether  as  impofiible  that  a  Being  unchangeably  juft, 
 good,  and  wife,  fliould  t\tv  change  fo  as  to  ad  contrary 
 to  his  eflential  charader,  ^s  that  a  thing  fliould  be  and 
 not  be  at  the  fame  time. 
 
 From  the  fiime  necefiity  of  concluding  upon  the  uni- 
 form and  univerfal  infinity  of  the  firfl;  caufe,  we  cannot 
 avoid  concluding,  that  he  is  infinite  in  juilice  and  truth, 
 it  being  felf-evident,  that  truth  is  a  perfedion,  and  pre- 
 ferable to  falfehood.  The  Divine  nature  mufl:  be  the 
 very  ftandard  of  truth;  he  mufi:  be  entirely  mafter  of 
 the  exad  ftate  of  all  things,  and  of  all  their  relations 
 find  connedions ;  he  mufi  fee  the  advantage  of  ading 
 
 according 
 
234  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IIT. 
 
 according  to  the  true  ftate  of  things,  and  the  right  ftate 
 of  the  cafe,  rather  than  according  to  any  faife  or  fidi- 
 tioiis  one;  and  muft  perceive,  more  generally  and  uni- 
 verfally  than  any  creature,  that  the  confequence  of  uni- 
 verfal  truth  muft  be  univerfal  order,  perfedion,  and 
 happinefs;  and  of  univerfal  falfehood  and  decepcion, 
 univerfal  mifery  and  confulion. 
 
 If  there  be  any  other  natural  or  moral  perfedions, 
 for  which  we  have  no  names,  and  of  which  we  have  no 
 ideas,  it  is  evident,  not  only  that  they  muft  be  in  the  Di- 
 vine Nature;  but  that  they  muft  exift  in  Him  in  an 
 unlimited  degree.  Or,  to  fpeak  properly,  every  poflible 
 and  confiftent  perfedion  takes  its  origin  from  its  being 
 an  attribute  of  the  Divine  Nature,  and  exifts  by  the 
 fame  original  neceffity  of  nature,  as  the  infinite  mind 
 itfelf,  the  fubjlratum  of  all  perfedion,  exifts.  So  that 
 the  neceflity  of  exiftence  of  the  moral  perfedions  of  the 
 Deity  is  the  very  fame  as  that  of  the  natural.  Try  to 
 annihilate  fpace,  or  immenfity,  in  your  mind  ;  and  you 
 will  find  it  impoflible.  For  it  exifts  necefliirily  ;  and 
 is  an  attribute  of  Deity.  Try  to  annihilate  the  idea  of 
 reditude  in  your  mind  ;  and  you  will  find  it  equally 
 impoftible  ;  the  idea  of  reditude,  as  fomewhat  real, 
 will  ftill  return  upon  the  underftanding.  Reditude  is 
 therefore  a  neceflary  attribute  of  Diety  ;  and  all  the 
 Divine  moral  attributes,  of  which  v;e  have  any  ideas, 
 are  only  reditude  diff2rently  exerted.  And  the  redi- 
 tude of  the  Divine  Nature  is  the  proper  bafis  and 
 foundation  of  moral  good  in  the  difpofition  or  pradicG 
 of  every  moral  agent  in  the  univerfe  ;  or,  in  other  words, 
 virtue,  in  an  inteiiigent  and  free  creature,  of  whatever 
 rank  in  the  fcate  of  being,  is  nothing  elfe  than  a  con- 
 formity of  difpofition  and  pradice  to  the  neceffary,  eter- 
 nal, and  unchangeable  reditude  of  the  Divine  Nature. 
 
 Of  every  pofitive  fimple  idea  that  can  enter  into  cur 
 minds,  it  may  be  faid,  that  it  is  either  fomething  be- 
 longing to  the  Divine  Nature  (to  fpeak  according  to 
 our  imperfed  way)  or  it  is  a  work  of  his,  or  of  fome 
 creature  of  his.  We  do  not  fay,  God  made  immenfity 
 or  fpace,  duration  or  eternity,  truth,  benevolence,  redi- 
 tude, and  the  reft.     But  thefe  are  clear,  pofitive,  fimple 
 
 ideas 
 
^f virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  2^5 
 
 ideas  in  our  minds.  Therefore  they  rauft  exift.  But 
 if  they  exift,  and  yet  are  not  made  by  God,  they  muft 
 be  iiecelTarily  exiltent.  Now  we  know,  that  nothing 
 exilts  neceffariiy,  but  what  is  an  attribute  of  Deity,  that 
 is,  one  of  our  imperfedt  and  partial  conceptions  of  his 
 infinite  nature,  which  iivgroffes  and  fwallows  up  all 
 poilible  perfedlions. 
 
 Though  we  have  here  treated  of  the  perfedlions  of 
 the  firfi;  caufe  feparately,  and  one  after  the  other,  we  are 
 not  to  form  to  ourfelves  an  idea  of  the  Supreme  Being, 
 as  confilling.  of  feparable  or  difcerpible  parts,  to  be  con- 
 ceived of  iingly,  and  independently  on  one  another.  In 
 treating  of  the  human  mind,  we  fay  it  confifts  of  the 
 faculties  of  underftanding,  will,  memory,  and  fo  forth. 
 But  this  evidently  conveys  a  falfe  idea  of  a  mind.  It  is 
 the  whole  mind  that  underitands,  wills,  loves,  hates,  re- 
 members, fees,  hears,  and  feels,  and  performs  all  the 
 ether  functions  of  a  living  agent.  And  to  conceive  of 
 its  faculties  as  feparable  from  or  independent  on  one  ano- 
 ther, is  forming  a  very  abfurd  notion  of  mind  v/hich 
 cannot  be  coniidered  as  confitling  of  parts,  or  as  capable 
 of  divifion.  When  we  fay  whatever  is  an  attribute  of 
 Deity  is  a  Deity  itfelf,  which  is  demonftrably  true,  we 
 ought  to  underiland  it  in  the  fame  manner  as  when  we 
 fay,  that  whatever  is  a  faculty  of  the  human  mind  is  the 
 mind  itfelf.  Thus,  though  immenlity  alone,  truth 
 alone,  infinite  power  or  wifdom  alone,  though  no  one 
 of  thefe  perfedions  alone  is  the  full  and  complete  idea 
 of  Diety,  any  more  than  underftanding  alone,  will  alone, 
 or  memory  alone,  is  of  the  human  mind,  yet  ail  the  firft, 
 together  with  the  other  attributes,  as  they  fubfift  in  the 
 Divine  mind,  are  Deity,  and  all  the  latter,  with  the 
 other  mental  powers,  are  the  human  mind,  and  yet  nei- 
 ther the  former  nor  the  latter  can  be  conceived  of  as 
 divilible  or  made  up  of  parts. 
 
 As  the  neceftary  exigence  and  abfolute  perfedtion  of 
 God  render  it  proper  and  reafonable  to  afcribe  to  him 
 the  creation  of  the  univerfe  ;  fo  his  omniprefence,  in- 
 finite power,  and  wifdom,  make  it  reafonable  to  con- 
 clude that  he  can,  with  the  utmoft  facility,  without  in- 
 terruption, for  intinit.:  ages,  conduft  and  govern  both 
 
 the 
 
236  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IH, 
 
 the  natural  and  moral  world.  Though  the  dodrine  of 
 Providence  is  found  in  the  writings  of  the  wife  Hea- 
 thens, and  is  therefore  commonly  conlidered  as  a  point 
 of  natural  religion  ;  yet,  as  revelation  only  fet§  it  in  a 
 clear  and  fatisfadory  light,  I  fhall  put  off  what  1  have 
 to  fay  upon  it  to  the  fourth  hook. 
 
 Our  being  utterly  incapable  of  forming  any  fliadow 
 of  an  idea  adequate  to  the  true  nature  and  eflence  of 
 the  Supreme  Being,  is  no  more  an  objedion  againil  the 
 certainty  of  his  exiftence,  than  the  impoffibility  of  our 
 conceiving  of  infinite  beginninglefs  duration,  is  againft 
 its  reality.  What  our  reafoii  compels  us  to  admit,  muft 
 not  be  rejefted,  becaufe  too  big  for  our  narrow  minds  to 
 comprehend,  nor  indeed  can  we  rejedt  it,  if  we  would. 
 
 Let  us  therefore  do  our  utmoll  to  conceive  of  the  Su- 
 preme Being  as  the  one  independent,  neceflarily-exiil- 
 ent,  unchangeable,  eternal,  immenfe,  and  univerfal 
 mind,  the  foundation,  ox  fubjiratum  oi  in^mtt  fpace,  dur- 
 ation, power,  wifclom,  goodnefs,  juftice,  and  every  other 
 poflible  perfedion ;  without  beginning,  without  end, 
 without  parts,  bounds,  limits,  or  defeds ;  the  caufe  of 
 all  things,  hinifelf  uncaufed  •,  the  preferver  of  all  thingSj 
 himfelf  depending  on  no  one :  the  upholder  of  all  things, 
 himfelf  upheld  by  no  one:  from  all  moments  of  eternity, 
 to  all  moments  of  eternity,  enjoying  the  perfedion  of  hap- 
 pinefs,  without  the  poffibility  of  addition  or  diminution ; 
 before  all,  above  all,  and  in  all ;  pofleffing  eternity  and 
 immenfity,fo  as  to  be  at  once  and  forever  fully  mailer  of 
 f^very  point  of  the  one  and  moment  of  the  other;  pervad- 
 ing all  matter,  but  unaffeded  by  all  matter  ;  bellowing 
 happinefs  on  ail,  without  receiving  from  any  ;  pouring 
 forth  with6ut  meafure  his  good  gifts,  but  never  dimi- 
 nilhing  his  riches  ;  let  us  in  a  word  think  of  him  as 
 the  All,  the  Whole,  the  Perfedion  of  Perfedion. 
 
 While  we  view  his  adorable  excellences  according 
 to  our  limited  and  partial  manner,  let  us  take  care  not 
 to  conceive  of  him  as  made  up  of  parts,  who  is  the  moll 
 perfed  unity.  While  we  consider,  in  fucceffion,  his 
 Icveral  attributes  of  power,  wifdom,  goodnefs,  and  the 
 reft,  let  us  take  care  not  to  form  a  complex  or  com- 
 pounded idea  of  him,  whofe  eflence  is  abfolutely  pure 
 
 and 
 
Of  virtue.)       •       HUMAN  NATURE.  2j7 
 
 and  fimple.  We  are  not  to  think  of  various  attributes, 
 and  then  fuperadd  the  idea  of  God  to  them.  The  per- 
 fedion  or  abftracl  of  wifdom,  power,  goodnefs,  and 
 every  other  attribute^  in  one  fimple  idea,  in  the  one 
 Univerfal  Mind,  which  fills  infinitude,  is  the  moll  per- 
 fecH:  idea  we  can  form  of  incomprehenfible  Deity. 
 
 Here  is  a  Deity  truly  v^^orthy  to  be  adored  I  What 
 are  the  Jupiters  and  Junos  of  the  Heathens  to  fuch  a 
 God  ?  What  is  the  common  notion  of  the  objed  of 
 worlhip ;  a  venerable  perfonage  fitting  in  heaven,  and 
 looking  down  upon  the  world  below  with  a  very  acute 
 and  penetrating  eye  (which  I  doubt  is  the  general  no- 
 tion among  the  unthinking  part  of  Chriftians)  what  is 
 fuch  a  God  to  the  immenfe  and  unlimited  nature  we 
 have  been  confidering  I 
 
 SECT.    n. 
 
 An  idea  of  the  Divine  Scheme  in  Creation.  Tloe  happvnefs 
 of  confcious  Being s^  the  only  End  for  which  they  were 
 brought  into  Exiftence^  Happinefs,  its  foundation^ 
 Univerfal  Concurrence  of  all  Beings  with  the  Divine 
 Scheme  abfolutely  neceffary  to  univerfal  Happinefs, 
 
 SO  far  we  have  gone  upon  a  rational  foundation  in 
 eflablifliing  the  exiftence  of  God,  and  his  being 
 polTeiTed  of  all  poffible  perfedions.  From  the  abfolute 
 and  unchangeable  perfection  and  happinefs  of  God,  it 
 appears,  as  obferved  above,  that  his  defign,  in  creating, 
 mud  have  been,  in  confiftency  withvvifdom  and  redi- 
 tnde,  to  produce  and  communicate  happinefs.  This 
 muft  be  kept  in  view  throughout  the  whole  of  the 
 fcheme.  When  we  think  of  the  Creator  as  laying  the 
 plan  of  his  univerfe,  we  mufi:  endeavour  to  enlarge  our 
 ideas  fo,  as  to  conceive  properly  of  what  would  be  wor- 
 thy of  an  infinitely  capacious  and  perfed  mind,  to  pro- 
 jed.  No  partial,  unconnedcd,  or  inconfiftent  defign 
 would  have  fuited  Infinite  Wifdom.  The  work  of  a 
 God  mufi  be  great,  uniform,  and  perfed.  It  muft,  in 
 one  word,  be  an  Univerfe, 
 
 In 
 
-J38  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  HL 
 
 In  fuch  a  plan,  where  all  was  to  be  full,  and  no  void, 
 or  chafm,  it  is  evident,  there  mult  be  an  extenfive  va- 
 riety, and  innumerable  ditferent  degrees  of  excellence 
 and  perfedion  in  thinj^s  animate  and  inanimate,  fuit- 
 able  to  the  refpedive  places  to  be  filled  by  each,  higher 
 or  lower,  rifing  one  above  another  by  a  juft  and  eafy 
 gradation.  This  we  can  accordingly  trace  in  the  fmall 
 part  of  the  fc ale  of  being,  which  our  obfervation  takes 
 in.  From  crude,  unprepared  dufc,  or  earth,  we  pro- 
 ceed to  various  Jtrata  impregnated  va  ith  feme  higher 
 qualities.  From  thence  to  pebbles,  and  other  foffil 
 fubftances,  which  feem  to  be  endowed  with  a  fort  of 
 vegetative  principle.  Next  we  proceed  from  the  lowelt 
 and  fimpleit  of  vegetables,  up  to  the  higheii  and  mod 
 curious  ;  among  which  the  feniitive  plant  feems  to  par- 
 take of  fomething  like  animal  life.  As  the  polype,  and 
 fome  other  reptiles,  feem  to  defcend  a  little,  as  if  to 
 meet  the  vegetable  creation.  Then  we  come  to  ani- 
 mals endowed  with  the  fenfe  of  feeling  and  tailing  only, 
 as  various  fhell-fifli.  After  them  follow  fuch  as  have 
 more  fenfes,  till  we  come  to  thofe  that  polTefs  fomewhat 
 analogous  to  human  faculties,  as  the  faithfulnefs  of  dogs, 
 the  generous  courage  of  the  horfe,  the  fagacity  of  the 
 elephant,  and  the  mifchievous  low  cunning  of  the  fox 
 and  ape.  Suppofe  a  human  creature,  of  the  meaneft 
 natural  abilities,  from  its  birth  deprived  of  the  faculty 
 of  fpeech,  how  much  would  it  be  fuperior  to  a  monkey? 
 How  much  is  a  Hottentot  fuperior  ?  From  fuch  a  hu- 
 man mind  we  may  proceed  to  thofe  which  are  capable 
 of  the  common  arts  of  life  ;  and  from  them  onward  to 
 iuch  as  have  fome  degree  of  capacity  for  fome  one  branch 
 of  art  or  fcience.  Then  we  may  go  on  to  thofe,  who 
 are  endovved  with  minds  fufceprible  of"  various  parts  of 
 knowledge.  From  which  there  are  a  great  many  de- 
 grees of  natural  capacities,  rifing  one  above  another,  be- 
 fore we  reach  fuch  a  divine  fpirit  as  that  of  a  Neivton. 
 Perhaps  fome  of  the  lower  orders  of  angelic  natures  might 
 not  be  raifed  above  him  at  a  much  greater  diftance, 
 than  he  was  above  fome  of  his  fpecies. 
 
 Even  among  the  inhabitants  of  difierent  elements 
 there  is  an  analogy  kept  up.     Various  fpecies  of  fifiies 
 
 approach 
 
OfVlritie.)  HUMAN   NATURE.  53^ 
 
 approach  very  nearly  to  bcafts,  who  live  on  dry  land,  in 
 form  and  coniiitution.  Several  fpecies  unite  the  aquatic 
 and  terreftrial  charaflers  in  one.  The  bat  and  owl  join 
 the  bird  and  bcail  kinds ;  fo  that  the  different  natures 
 run  ahnoft  into  another  ;  but  never  meet  ib  clofely,  as 
 to  confound  the  diflin<5bion. 
 
 Thus,  fo  far  as  we  can  trace  the  divine  plan  of  crea- 
 tion, all  is  full,  and  all  connected  I  And  we  may  rea- 
 fonably  conclude,  that  the  fame  uniformity  amidfl;  va- 
 riety takes  place  through  the  univerfal  fcale  of  being, 
 above  our  fpecies,  as  well  as  below  it,  in  other  worlds 
 as  well  as  ours*  This  was  to  be  expeded  in  an  univer- 
 ful  fyftem  planned  by  one  immenfe  and  ail-compre- 
 hending mind. 
 
 Conhdering  the  unbounded  and  unlimited  perfedlions 
 of  the  firft  caufe,  who  has  exiited  from  eternity,  has 
 had  an  infinite  fpace  to  ad.  in,  an  infinity  of  wifdom  to 
 fuggeft  fchemes,  and  infinite  power  to  put  thofe  fchemes 
 in  execution  for  eileding  whatever  infinite  goodnefs 
 might  excite  him  to  propofe  :  confidering  thefe  things, 
 what  ideas  may  we  form  of  the  adlual  exertion  of  fuch 
 perfections  ?  What  may  they  not  have  produced  ;  v/hat 
 may  they  not  be  every  moment  producing ;  what 
 they  may  not  produce  throughout  an  endlefs  eternity  ! 
 There  is  no  determinate  time  we  can  fix  for  infinite 
 wifdom,  power,  and  goodnefs  to  have  begun  to  exert 
 themfelves  in  creating,  but  what  will  imply  an  eternity 
 paft,  without  any  exertion  of  creating  power.  And  it 
 is  not  eafy  to  fuppofe  Infinite  Goodneis  to  have  let  an 
 eternity  pafs  without  exerting  itfelf  in  bringing  any  one 
 creature  into  exiflence.  Whither  then  does  this  lead 
 us  ?  There  is  no  point  in  eternity  paft,  in  which  can 
 conceive,  that  it  would  have  been  improper  for  infinite 
 wifdom,  power,  and  goodnefs  to  have  been  exerted. 
 And  he,  who  from  all  eternity  has  had  power,  in  all 
 probability  has  from  all  eternity  had  will  or  inclination 
 to  communicate  his  goodnefs.  Let  us  try  to  imagine 
 then,  what  may  be  the  whole  effed:  of  infinite  power, 
 wifdom,  and  goodnefs,  exerted  through  an  infinite  du- 
 ration paft,  and  in  an  unbounded  fpace.  What  ought  to 
 be  the  number  of  productions  of  in^nite  power,  wildom, 
 
 and 
 
240  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IIL 
 
 and  goodnefs,  throughout  immenfity  and  eternity  ? 
 What  may  we  fuppofe  the  prefent  degree  of  perfection 
 of  beings,  who  have  exifted  from  periods  diftant  from 
 the  prefent  beyond  all  reach  of  human  numbers,  and 
 have  been  conftantly  improving  ?  What  degrees  of 
 *  knowledge,  of  power,  of  goodnefs,  may  fuch  beings 
 have  by  this  time  acquired  ?  Let  readers,  v.'ho  have  ac- 
 cumilomed  themfelves  to  fuch  trains  of  thinking,  pur- 
 fue  thefe  views  to  their  full  extent.  To  add  here  all 
 that  may  be  deduced  from  fuch  confiderations,  may  not 
 be  neceflary. 
 
 It  is  afterwards  demonflratedj  that  the  happinefs  of 
 the  proper  creatures  was  the  fclc  view,  whichnhe  Di- 
 vine Wifdom  could  have  in  producing  an  univerfe. 
 Now,  happinefs  being  a  primary  or  limple  idea^  it  nei- 
 ther needs,  nor  is  capable  of  any  explanation,  or  of 
 being  expreffed,  but  by  fome  fynonymous  term,  which 
 likewifes  communicates  a  limple  idea,  as  fatisfadion, 
 plcafure,  or  fuch  like.  But  it  is  of  good  ufe  to  under- 
 ftand  what  makes  real  happinefs,  and  how  to  attain  it. 
 The  foundation  or  ground  of  happinefs,  then,  is  "  A 
 *'  confcious  being's  finding  itfelf  in  that  ftate,  and  fur- 
 "  niflied  with  all  thofe  advantages,  which  are  the  moll 
 *'  fuitable  to  its  nature,  and  the  moll  conducive  to  its 
 *'  improvement  and  perfedion." 
 
 Here  is  a  fubje6b  for  an  angel  to  preach  upon,  and  the 
 whole  human  race  to  be  his  audience.  It  is  the  very 
 fubje6t,  which  the  AmbaiTador  of  heaven  came  to  this 
 world  to  treat  of,  and  explain  to  mankind, 
 
 Happinefs  is  no  imaginary  or  arbitrary  thing.  It  is 
 what  it  is  by  the  unalterable  nature  of  things,  and  the 
 Divine  Ordination.  In  treating  of  fuch  fubjeds,  it  is 
 common  to  fpeak  of  the  nature  of  things  feparately 
 from  the  pofitive  will  of  the  Supreme  Being.  To  un- 
 derftand  this  matter  rightly,  it  is  necelfary  to  remember, 
 that  in  the  nature  of  things,  the  Divine  Nature  is  in- 
 cluded, or  rather  is  the  foundation  of  all.  Thus  when 
 it  is  here  faid,  that  happinefs  is  fixed  according  to  the 
 unalterable  nature  of  things,  as  well  as  determined  by 
 the  pofitive  will  of  God,  the  meaning  is,  that  the  Su- 
 3  prenW 
 
X)f  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  ^      241 
 
 preme  Being,  in  determining  what  fhouldbe  thchappinefs 
 of  the  creature,  and  how  he  ihould  attain  it,  has  acted 
 according  to  the  abfolute  reditude  of  his  own  nature- 
 
 But  to  return,  no  creature  is,  or  can  be  fo  formed,  as 
 to  continue  lleadiiy  and  uniformly  happy,  through  the 
 v/hol(5  of  its  exiltence,  at  the  fame  time  that  it  is  in  a 
 ftate  unfuitable  to  its  nature,  and  deprived  of  all  the  ad- 
 vantages neceifary  for  its  improvement  and  perfection. 
 It  is  a  direct  and  felf-evident  impoffibiliiy,  that  fuch  a 
 creature  fhoald  be.  Wen^  the  foundation  of  happinefs 
 dependent  upon  the  refpedive  i'naginations  of  dillerent 
 creatures,  what  occasion  f  )r  all  the  pompous  apparatus 
 we  know  has  been  made  for  preparing  the  human  fpe- 
 cies  for  happinefs  ?  Had  it  been  poffit)ie,  or  conliftent 
 with  the  Diviur'  Perfections  and  nature  of  things,  that 
 mere  fancy  fliould  have  been  a  foundation  for  happi- 
 nefs, there  had  needed  no  more  than  to  have  lulled  the 
 creature  into  a  pleating  deiufion,  a  golden  dream,  out 
 of  which  he  fhould  never  have  waked*  And  there  is 
 no  doubt,  but,  if  the  happinefs  of  our  fpecies  and  other 
 rational  agents  could,  properly,  have  been  brought  about 
 iti  this,  or  any  other  lefs  operofe  manner,  than  that  which 
 is  appointed,  there  is  not  the  leaft  doubt,  1  fay,  but  the 
 unbounded  Wifdom  and  Goodnefs  of  the  Governor  of 
 the  world,  who  brought  them  into  being  on  purpofe  for 
 happineis,  and  cannot  but  choofe  the  ealieit  and  belt 
 ways  for  gaining  his  ends,  would  have  brought  them  to 
 happinefs  in  fuch  a  way.  But  it  is  efident,  that  then 
 man  could  not  have  been  man,  that  is,  an  intelligent, 
 free  agent ;  therefore  could  not  have  filled  his  placfe  in 
 the  fcale  of  being  ;  for  as  he  Hands  in  the  place  between 
 angels  and  brutes,  he  muil  have  been  exadly  what  he 
 is,  or  not  have  been  at  all.  An  infinitely  perfed  Au- 
 thor, if  he  creates  at  all,  will  neceflarily  produce  a  work 
 free  from  chafms  and  blunders.  And  to  think  of  the 
 God  of  Truth  as  producing  a  rational,  intelligent  crea- 
 ture, whofe  whole  happinefs  fliould  be  a  deception ; 
 what  can  be  conceived  more  abfurd,  or  impious  ?  If 
 fuch  a  creature  is  formed  for  contemplating  truth,  could 
 he  likewife  have  been  brought  into  exiitence,  to  be  irre- 
 illlibiy  led  into  a  deiufion  ?   To  what  end  a  faculty  of 
 
242  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Cooklir, 
 
 •reafoning,  to  be,  by  his  very  make  and  ilate,  drawn  into 
 unavoidable  error? 
 
 Befides  all  this,  let  any  man  try  to  conceive  in  his 
 own  mind  the  pojflibility  of  bringing  about  a  general 
 and  unirerfal  happinefs  upon  any  other  footing,  than  the 
 concurrence  of  all  things,  in  one  general  and  uniform 
 courfe,  to  one  great  and  important  end  ;  let  any  man 
 try  to  conceive  this,  I  fay,  and  he  will  find  it  in  vain. 
 If  the  foundation  of  univerfal  happinefs  be.  Every  be- 
 ing's finding  itfelf  in  fuch  circumftances  as  befl  fuit  its 
 nature  and  Ilate,  is  it  pofFible,  that  every  being  fhould 
 find  itfelf  in  thofe  circumftances,  if  every  being  aded  a 
 part  unfuitable  to  its  nature  and  ftate  ?  On  the  contrary, 
 a  deviation  from  that  condud:,  which  fuits  a  reafonable 
 nature,  is  the  very  definition  of  moral  evil.  And  every 
 deviation  tends  to  produce  diforder  and  unhappinefs. 
 And  every  lefTer  degree  of  fuch  deviation  tends  to  draw 
 on  greater,  and  this  deviation  into  irregularity  would  in 
 the  end  produce  univerfal  unhappinefs  ;  but  that  it  is 
 over-ruled  by  fuperior  Wifdom  and  Goodnefs.  So  that, 
 inftead  of  the  fophiftical  maxim,  "  That  private  vices 
 **  are  public  benefits,'*  we  may  eftablilh  one  much  more 
 juft ;  "  That  the  fmalleft  irregularities,  unreftrained, 
 <*  and  encouraged,  tend  to  produce  univerfal  confufion 
 *'  and  mifery.'* 
 
 In  confequence  of  the  above  account  of  the  true 
 foundation  of  happinefs,  it  is  plain,  that  different  na- 
 tures will  require  a  different  provilion  for  their  happi- 
 nefs. The  mere  animal  will  w^ant  only  what  is  necef- 
 fary  for  the  fupport  of  the  individual,  and  the  fpecies. 
 Whatever  is  fuperadded  to  that,  will  be  found  fuper- 
 fluous  and  ufelefs,  and  will  go  unenjoyed  by  the  animal. 
 But  for  a  higher  nature,  fuch  as  that  of  man,  another 
 fort  of  apparatus  muft  be  provided.  Inafmuch  as  he 
 partakes  of  the  animal,  as  well  as  the  rational  nature,  it 
 is  plain  he  cannot  be  completely  happy  with  a  provifion 
 made  for  only  one  half  of  his  nature.  He  w^ill  there- 
 fore need  whatever  may  be  requifite  for  the  fupport  and 
 comfort  of  the  body,  as  well  as  for  the  improvement  of 
 the  mind.  For  the  happinefs  of  an  angel,  or  other  fu- 
 perior power,  a  provifion  greatly  fuperior,  and  more 
 
 fublime^ 
 
bf  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  243 
 
 than  all  that  we  can  conceive,  may  be  neceiTary.  And 
 the  higher  the  nature,  the  more  noble  a  happinefs  it  is 
 capable  of.  The  perfed:  happinefs  enjoyed  by  the  Su- 
 preme Being  is  the  neceflary  confequence  of  the  abfo- 
 lute  and  unlimited  perfedion  of  his  nature. 
 
 The  Supreme  Mind,  in  laying  the  plan  of  an  univerfe, 
 mull  evidently  have  propofed  a  general  fcheme,  which 
 fliould  take  in  all  the  various  orders  of  being  ;  a  fcheme 
 in  which  all,  or  as  many  as  pollible  of  the  particulars 
 ihould  come  to  happinefs,  but  in  fuch  a  manner,  as 
 that  the  happinefs  of  the  whole  fliould  be  coniiftent 
 with  that  of  individuals,  and  that  of  individuals  with 
 that  of  the  whole,  and  with  the  nature  of  things,  or, 
 more  properly,  with  the  Divine  Reclitude.  We  cannot 
 imagine  Infinite  Wifdom  propofing  a  particular  fcheme 
 for  every  individual,  when  the  end  might  be  gained  by 
 a  general  one.  For,  to  gain  various  ends  by  one  means, 
 is  a  proof  of  wifdom.  As,  on  the  contrary,  to  have  re- 
 courfe  to  different  means,  to  gain  an  end,  which  might 
 have  been  obtained  by  one,  is  of  weaknefs. 
 
 Let  the  univerfal  plan  of  things  have  been  what  it 
 would,  it  is  evident,  that,  in  order  to  general  and  uni- 
 verfal perfedlion,  it  is  abfolutely  neceflary,  that,  in  ge- 
 neral, all  things  inanimate,  animate,  and  rational,  con- 
 cur in  one  defign,  and  co-operate,  in  a  regular  and  uni- 
 form manner,  to  carry  on  the  grand  view.  To  fuppofe 
 any  one  part  or  member  to  be  left  out  of  the  general 
 fchenae,  left  to  itfelf,  or  to  proceed  at  random,  is  abfurd. 
 The  confequence  of  fuch  an  error  mull  unavoidably  be, 
 a  confufion  in  the  grand  machinery,  extending  as  far  as 
 the  fphere  of  fuch  a  part  or  member  extended.  And 
 as  it  is  probable  that  no  created  being,  efpecially  of  the 
 iowell  ranks,  has  extenfive  enough  views  of  things,  to 
 know  exadly  the  part  it  ought  to  ad,  it  is  plain,  that 
 proper  means  and  contrivances  muft  have  been  ufed  by 
 Him  who  fees  through  the  whole,  for  keeping  thofe  be- 
 ings to  their  proper  fphere,  and  bringing  them  to  per- 
 form their  refpeclive  parts,  fo  as  to  concur  to  the  pes:- 
 fedion  and  happinefs  of  the  whole. 
 
 The  inanimate  is  the  lowed  part  of  the  creation,  or 
 the  lowed  order  of  being*     As  it  is  gf  ittelf  incapable 
 
 1^^  cf 
 
244  THE-DIGNITY  OF  (Book  Ifly 
 
 happioefs,  it  is  plain  that  all  it  is  fit  for,  is  to  contribute 
 to  the  happinefs  of  beings  capable  of  enjoying  it.  Tc 
 make  inanimate  matter  perform  its  part  in  the  grand 
 fcheme,  nothing  will  anfwer,  but  fuperior  power  or 
 force,  as,  by  the  very  fuppofition  of  its  being'inanimate, 
 it  is  only  capable  of  being  aded  upon,  not  of  ading. 
 So  that  every  motion,  every  tendency  to  motion,  in 
 every  lingle  atom  of  matter  in  the  univerfe,  mull  be 
 effeded  by  the  agency  of  fome  living  principle.  And 
 without  being  aded  by  fome  living  principle,  no  one 
 atom  of  matter  in  the  univerfe  could  have  changed  its 
 ftate  from  motion  to  reft,  or  from  reft  to  motion  ;  but 
 muft  have  remained  for  ever  in  the  ftate  it  was  firft 
 created  in. 
 
 The  Supreme  Mind  being,  as  we  have  feen,  univer- 
 fally  prefect  in  every  point  of  intinite  fpace,  where  there 
 is,  or  is  not,  any  created  being,  material  or  immaterial, 
 muft  be  intimately  prefent  to  every  atom  of  matter,  and 
 every  fpiritual  being,  throughout  the  univerfe.  His' 
 power  is,  as  we  have  feen,  neceflarily  infinite,  or  irre-* 
 liftible ;  and  bis  wifdom  perfed.  It  is  therefore  evi- 
 dently no  more,  nor  fo  much,  for  a  Being,  endowed  with 
 fuch  an  advantageous  fuperiority  over  the  material  crea- 
 tion, to  aduate  the  vaft  univerfe,  as  for  a  man  to  move 
 his  finger  or  eye-lid.  His  prefence  extending  through 
 infinitude,  puts  every  atom  of  matter  in  the  univerfe 
 within  his  reach.  His  power  being  irrefiftible,  enables 
 him  to  wield  the  moft  enormous  maffes,  as  whole  planets 
 at  once,  with  any  degree  of  rapidity,  W'ith  as  little  diffi- 
 culty, or  rather  infinitely  lefs,  than  a  man  can  the  lighteft 
 ball.  And  his  wifdom  being  abfolutely  perfed,  he  can-' 
 not  but  know  exadly  in  what  manner  to  dired,  regu- 
 late, and  aduate  the  whole  material  machine  of  the 
 world,  fo  as  it  may  the  belt  anfwer  his  various,  wife,  and 
 noble  purpofes.  And  it  is  certain,  that  all  the  motions 
 and  revolutions,  all  the  tendences  and  inclinations,  as 
 they  are  commonly,  for  want  of  better  terms,  called; 
 all  the  laws  of  nature,  the  cohefion  of  bodies,  the  at- 
 tradion  and  gravitation  of  planets,  the  efHux  of  light 
 from  luminous  bodies,  with  all  the  laws  they  are  fubjed 
 10,  raufl  be  finally  refoived  into  the  adion  of  the  Su- 
 premo 
 
Pf  virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  ^4^ 
 
 preme  Being,  or  of  beings  employed  by  him,  whatever 
 intervening  inftrumentahty  may  be  made  ufe  of.  Thus 
 the  inanimate  creation  is  wrought  to  the  Divine  purpofe 
 by  fuperior  power,  or  force. 
 
 To  bring  the  animal,  irrational  natures  to  perform 
 their  part  in  the  general  fcheme,  it  was  neceffary  to  en- 
 dow them  with  a  few  ftrong  and  powerful  inclinations, 
 or  appetites,  ivhich  fiiould  from  time  to  time  folicit 
 them  to  eafe  the  pain  of  defire  by  gratifying  them  ;  and 
 to  give  them  capacity  enough  to  confult  their  own  pre- 
 fervation  by  means  fit  for  the  purpofe,  which  are  eafiiy 
 found.  Befides  jnftind-,  they  leem  to  be  endowed  with 
 a  kind  of  faculty  in  fome  meafure  analogous  to  our  rea- 
 fon,  which  reftrains  and  regulates  inilinft,  fo  that  we 
 obferve,  they  lliew  fomething  like  thought  and  fagacity 
 in  their  purfuit  of  their  gratiiications,  and  even  Ihew 
 fome  traces  of  reflection,  gratitude,  faithfulnefs,  and  the 
 like.  Their  apprehenlions  being  but  weak,  and  their 
 fphere  of  adion  narrow,  they  have  it  not  generally  in 
 their  power,  as  creatures  of  fuperior  capacities,  and  eU'- 
 dowed  with  extenfive  liberty,  to  go  out  of  the  track  pre- 
 fcribed  them,  and  run  into  irregularity.  By  thefe  means, 
 the  brute  creatures  are  worked  to  the  Divine  purpofe, 
 and  made  to  fill  their  fubordinate  fphere,  and  contri- 
 bute, as  far  as  that  extends,  to  the  regularity,  perfedion, 
 and  happinefs  of  the  whole. 
 
 We  come  now  to  what  we  reckon  the  third  rank  of 
 being,  the  rational  creation  ;  which  mult  like  wife,  ac- 
 cording to  the  Divine  Scheme,  concur  with  the  other 
 parts,  and  contribute  in  their  fphere  to  the  perfedtion 
 and  happinefs  of  the  univerfal  fyftern. 
 
 The  rational  world  being  the  part  the  molt  necefTary, 
 a^d  of  the  greateil  importance,  as  their  happinefs  was 
 the  principal  view  the  Supreme  Being  mult  have  had 
 in  the  creation,  their  concurrence  is  what  can  the  leait 
 be  difpenfed  with.  Should  the  whole  material  fyllera 
 run  to  ruin  ;  Ihould  funs  be  loil  in  eternal  darknefs  ; 
 planets  and  comets  rufn  out  on  all  fides  into  the  infinite 
 expanfe,  or  the  fixed  ftars  leave  their  Rations,  and  dafh  . 
 againft  one  another ;  and  fliould  an  univerfal  ftntence 
 ^f  annihilation  be  palTed  upon  the  ani«ial  world  ;    th-e 
 
 R  3       .  dcllrudioR 
 
24^  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  III. 
 
 deftrudion  of  both  the  inanimate  and  animal  creation 
 would  not  be  fo  great  a  dirturbance  of  the  Divine 
 fcheme,  would  not  be  fuch  an  important  breach  of  the 
 general  order  and  regularity  necelTary  to  univerfal  per- 
 fedlion  and  happinefs,  as  a  general  defedtof  concurrence 
 or  irregularity  and  oppofition,  in  the  rational  world, 
 for  whofe  happinefs  the  inferior  creation  was  brought 
 into  being,  and  whofe  happinefs,  Ihould  it  totally  mif- 
 carry,  the  Divine  fcheme  mull  be  totally  defeated. 
 
 I 
 
 SECT.     III. 
 
 Of  the  Nature  of  Man,  and  Immortality  of  the  Soul, 
 
 N  order  to  underftand  what  it  is  for  our  fpecies  ta, 
 concur,  in  a  proper  manner,  with  the  Divine 
 Scheme,  and  to  obferve  what  wife  means  have  been 
 contrived  by  the  Divine  Wifdom  and  Goodnefs  for. 
 bringing  us  to  the  requilite  concurrence  in  conliftence 
 with  our  nature  and  Hate,  it  will  be  neceflary  to  conli- 
 der  a  little  the  human  nature  and  charader. 
 
 It  is  commonly  faid,  that  we  underftand  matter  bet- 
 ter than  fpirit ;  that  we  know  lefs  of  our  fouls  than  of 
 our  bodies.  But  this  is  only  a  vulgar  error.  And  the 
 truth  is,  that  we  know  nothing  of  the  internal  fub (lance 
 of  either  one  or  the  other.  But  we  know  enough  of 
 the  properties  and  ft  ate  of  both,  to  know  how  to  leek 
 the  good  of  both,  would  we  but  a6t  according  to  our 
 knowledge. 
 
 That  which  raifes  the  human  make  above  the  brute, 
 creatures,  is  our  having  capacities,  which  enable  us  to, 
 take  more  extenfive  views,  and  penetrate  farther  into 
 the  natures  and  connexions  of  things,  than  inferior 
 creatures  \  our  having  a  faculty  of  abilrad:  refledion ; 
 fo  that  we  can  at  pleafure,  call  up  to  our  minds  any 
 fubject  we  have  formerly  known^  which,  for  aught 
 that  appears,  the  inferior  creatures  cannot  do,  nor  ex- 
 cite in  themfelves  the  idea  of  any  abfent  objed,  but 
 what  their  fenfes,  either  diredly  or  indiredly,  recal  to 
 their  memory ;  and  laftly,  that  we  are  naturally,  till 
 we  come  to  be  debauched,  more  mailers  of  our  paffions 
 and  appetites,  or  more  free  to  choofe  and  refufe^  than 
 the  inferior  creatures,  J| 
 
Of  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURfe.  247 
 
 It  is  impollible  to  put  together  any  confident  theory 
 of  our  nature,  or  Hate,  without  taking  in  the  thought 
 of  our  being  intended  for  immortality.  If  we  attempt 
 to  think  of  our  exigence  as  terminating  with  this  life, 
 all  is  abrupt,  confufed,  and  unaccountable.  But  when 
 the  prefent  is  confidered  as  a  ftate  of  difcipline,  and 
 introdudion  to  endlefs  improvement  hereafter  ;  though 
 we  cannot  fay,  that  we  fee  through  the  whole  fcheme, 
 we  yet  fee  fo  much  of  wifdom  and  delign,  as  to  lead 
 us  to  conclude  with  reafon,  that  the  whole  is  contrived 
 in  the  moft  proper  manner  for  gaining  the  important 
 end  of  preparing  us  for  immortal  happinefs  and  glory. 
 
 And  that  it  is  reafonable  to  believe  our  Ipecies  formed 
 for  immortality,  will  appear  lirft,  by  confidering  the 
 nature  of  the  mind  itfelf,  which  is  indeed,  properly 
 fpeaking,  the  being  ;  for  the  body  is  only  a  fyftem  of 
 matter  inhabited  and  actuated  by  the  living  fpirir. 
 
 That  the  mind  may,  in  a  dependence  upon  the  infi- 
 jiite  Author  of  life  and  being,  continue  to  exift  after 
 the  diffoiution  of  the  body,  there  is  no  reafon  to  quefti- 
 o».  For  individuality  and  indifcerpibility  being  iniepa- 
 rable  properties  of  mind,  it  is  plain  that  a  mind  can  die 
 only  by  annihilation.  But  no  one  can  fhew  that  there 
 is  any  connedion  between  death  and  annihilation.  On 
 the  contrary,  the  mortal  body  itfelf  is  certainly  not  an- 
 nihilated at  death,  nor  any  way  altered  in  its  effence, 
 only  its  condition  and  circumftances  are  not  the  fame 
 as  when  animated  by  the  living  principle,  which  is 
 alfo  the  cafe  of  the  mind.  But  if  the  mind  be  a 
 principle  originally  capable  of  thought  and  felf-mo- 
 tion  by  its  own  nature  ;  it  follows,  that  it  may,  for 
 any  thing  we  know,  think  and  adl  in  one  llate  as  well 
 as  another ;  in  a  future  as  well  as  in  the  prefent.  If  it 
 were  poffible  to  conceive  of  a  material,  thinking,  and 
 felf-moving  principle,  which  is  a  flat  contradiction, 
 inadlivity  being  infeparable  from  the  idea  of  matter ; 
 yet  it  would  not  thence  follow,  that  the  thinking  prin- 
 ciple muft  lofe  its  exiftence  at  the  diffoiution  of  the 
 grofs  body.  The  moral  proofs  for  the  future  exiftence 
 of  the  human  fpecies  would  ftili  remain  in  force,  whe- 
 ther we  were  contidered  as  embodied  fpirits,  or  as  mere, 
 R  4  bod^ 
 
245  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IK: 
 
 body.  Nor  is  there  any  contradidtion  in  the  idea  of  ar^ 
 immortal  body,  any  more  than  of  an  immortal  fpirit  ^ 
 nor  is  any  being  immortal,  but  by  dependence  on  the 
 Divine  Supporting  Power.  Nor  does  the  notion  of  the, 
 poflibiliiy  of  a  faculty  of  thinking  fuperadded  to  matter, 
 at  all  affed  the  point  in  queftion.  Though  it  is  certain, 
 that  a  pretended  fyftem  of  matter  with  a  thinking  fa- 
 culty, mull  either  be  nothmg  more  than  matter  ani- 
 mated b>  fpirit,  or  a  fubltance  of  a  quite  oppofite  nature 
 to.  all  that  we  call  matter,  about  which  we  cannot  rea- 
 fon,  having  no  ideas  of  it.  Farther,  we  have  reafoa 
 to  conclude,  that  the  body  depends  on  the  mind  for  life 
 and  motion  ;  not  the  mind  on  the  body.  We  find,  that 
 the  mind  is  not  impaired  by  the  lofs  of  whole  limbs  of 
 the  body  ;  that  the  mind  is  often  very  adive,  when 
 the  body  is  at  reft  ;  that  the  mind  correds  the  errors, 
 prefented  to  it  through  the  fenfes  ;  that  even  in  the  de- 
 cay, diforder,  or  total  fufpenfion,  of  rhe  fenfes  ;  the 
 mind  is  affeded  jufi.  as  ihe  might  be  expeded  to  be, 
 "when  obliged  to  ufe  untoward  inftruments,  and  to  have 
 wrong  reprefentations,  and  falfe  impreffions,  forced 
 upon  her,  or,  when  deprived  of  all  traces,  and  quite  put 
 out  of  her  element.  For,  the  cafe  of  perfons  intoxicated 
 with  liquor,  or  in  a  dream,  or  raving  in  a  fever,  or 
 diflradtd,  all  which  have  a  refeniblance  to  one  another, 
 may  be  conceived  of  in  the  following  manner.  The 
 mind,  or  thinking  being,  "which  at  prefent  receives  im- 
 preffions only  by  means  of  the  material  organ  of  the 
 brain,  and  the  fenfes  through  which  intelligence  is  com- 
 munieated  into  the  brain  ;  the  mind,  I  fay,  beingat  pre- 
 fent confined  to  ad  only  within  the  dark  cell  of  the  brain, 
 and  to  receive  verv  lively  impreflions  from  it,  which  is  the 
 confequenceofalawofnature,  tous  inexplicable;  mayba 
 exa6tly  in  the  fame  manner  affeded  by  the  impreffions 
 made  on  the  brain  by  a  dileafe,  or  other  accidental  caufe, 
 as  if  they  were  made  by  fome  real  external  objed.  For: 
 example,  if  in  a  violent  fever,  or  a  frenzy,  thefame  im- 
 preffions be,  by  a  preternatural  flow  of  the  animal  fpi- 
 lits,  made  on  the  retina  of  the  eye,  as  would  be  made 
 if  the  perfon  was  to  be  in  a  field  of  battle,  where  two 
 •sirmies  were  engaged  j  and  if  at  the  fame  time  it  hap,* 
 
 neneda 
 
Of  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  %^^ 
 
 pened,  that  by  the   fame  means  the  fame  impreffions 
 lliould  be  made  on   the  auditory   nerve,  as   would  be 
 made  if  the  perfon  were  within  hearing  of  the  noife  of 
 (drums,  the  clangour  of  trumpets,  and  the  ftioutsof  men; 
 how  ftiould  the  fpiritual  being,   immured  as  flie  is  in 
 her  dark  cell,  and  unufed  to  fuch  a  deception  as  this, 
 how  fhould  (he  know   it   was  a  deception,    any  more, 
 than  an  Indian,  who  had  never  feen  a  pidure,  could 
 find  at  the  firft  view,    that  the  canvas  was  really  flat, 
 though  it  appeared   to   exhibit  a   landfcape  of  feveral 
 miles  in  extent  ?  It  is  therefore  conceivable  that  the 
 mind  may  be  ftrongly  and  forcibly  affeded  by  a  mate- 
 rial fyilem,    without  being  itfelf  materiaL     And  that 
 the  mind  is   not  material,   appears  farther,  in  that  Ihe 
 abftradts   herfelf    from   the    body,     when   llie    would 
 apply  mod  clofeiy  to  thought ;  that  the  foul  is  capa- 
 ble of  purely  abftrad  ideas,  as  of  reditude,  order,  vir- 
 tue, vice,  and  the  like  ;   to  which  matter  furniflies  no 
 archetype,  nor  has  any  connexion  with  them  ;  that  it 
 is  affeded  by   what  is  confelTedly  not  matter,    as  the 
 fenfe  of  words  heard,  or  read  in  books,  which  if  it  were 
 material  it  could  not  be :   which  fhews  our  minds  to  be 
 quite  different  beings  from  the  body,  and  naturally  in- 
 dependent on  it ;  that  we  can  conceive  of  matter  in  a 
 way,  wiiich  we  cannot  of  fpirit,  andcontrariwife  ;  mat- 
 ter being  ftili  to  be,   without  any  contradidion,   con- 
 ceived of  as  divifible  and  inadive  ;  whereas  it  is  impof- 
 fible  to  apply  thofe  ideas  to  fpirit,  without  a  dired  ab- 
 furdity,   which  fliews,  that  the  mind  is  the  fame,  con- 
 fcious,  indivifible,   identical  being,  though  the  body  is 
 fubjed  to  contmual  change,  addition,  and  diminution; 
 that  the  mind  continues  to  improve  in  the  moft  noble 
 and  valuable  accomplilhments,  when  the  body  is  going 
 fall  to  decay  ;  that,  even  the  moment  before  the  diflfo- 
 lution  of  the  body,  the  vigour  of  the  mind  feems  often 
 wholly  unimpaired  ;  that  the  interefts  of  the  mind  and 
 body  are  always  different,  and  often  oppofite,  as  in  the  cafe 
 of  being  obliged  to  give  up  life  for  truth.    Thefe  confi- 
 derations,  attended  to  duly,  (hew,  thatwehavenoreafon 
 to  queltion  the  poffibiiity  of  the  living  principle's  fub- 
 fifting  after  the  diflblution  of  the  material  vehicle. 
 
 ■  As 
 
25*  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IIF, 
 
 As  to  the  difficulty  arifing  from  the  confide  ration  of 
 tbe  clofe  connedion  between  the  body  and  foul,  and 
 the  inipreffions  made  by  the  one  upon  the  other,  which 
 bas  led  fome  to  queftion  whether  they  are  in  reality  at 
 all  dillincl  beings,  it  is  to  be  remembered,  that  this  con- 
 Dedion,  which  is  abfolutely  neceffary  in  the  prefent 
 flate,  is  wholly  owing  to  the  divine  difpofal,  and  not  to 
 any  likenefs,  much  lefs  faraenefs,  of  the  thinking,  intel- 
 ligent agent  with  the  grofs  corporeal  vehicle*  If  it  had 
 So  pleafed  the  Author  of  our  being,  he  could  have  fixed 
 fuch  a  natural  connedlion  between  our  minds  and  the 
 moon,  or  planets,  that  their  various  revolutions  and 
 aipeds  might  have  afFeded  us,  in  the  fame  manner  as 
 now  the  health  or  diforder  of  our  bodies  does.  But 
 tbis  would  not  have  made  the  moon  and  planets  a  part 
 of  us.  No  more  do  the  mutual  impreffions  made  reci- 
 procally by  the  mind  and  body,  prove  them  to  be  the 
 fame,  or  that  the  human  nature  is  all  body,  efpecially 
 confidering  that,  as  already  obferved,  in  many  cafes  we 
 evidently  perceive  an  independency  and  difference  be- 
 tween them. 
 
 It  cannot  be  pretended  that  there  is  any  abfurdity  in 
 conceiving  of  the  animating  principle  as  exifting  even 
 before  conception  in  the  womb,  nor  of  a  new  unioa 
 commencing  at  a  certain  period,  by  a  fixed  law  of  na- 
 ture, between  it  and  a  corporeal  vehicle,  which  union 
 may  be  fuppofed  to  continue,  according  to  certain  efta- 
 biifhed  laws  of  nature  for  a  long  courfe  of  years;  and 
 may  be  broke,  or  diflblved,  in  the  fame  regular  manner; 
 fo  that  the  fyftem  of  matter,  to  which  the  animating 
 principle  was  united,  may  be  no  more  to  it  than  any 
 other  fyftem  of  matter. 
 
 It  is  remarkable,  that  all  living  creatures,  efpecially 
 our  fpecies,  on  their  firft  appearance  in  hfe,  feem  at  a 
 lofs,  as  if  the  mind  was  not,  in  the  infant  ftate,  quite 
 engaged  and  united  to  its  new  vehicle,  and  therefore 
 could  not  command  and  wield  it  properly.  Sleep,  in- 
 firm old  age,  fevere  ficknefs,  and  fainting,  feem,  ac- 
 cording to  certain  eftablifhed  laws  of  nature,  partly  to, 
 loofen  or  relax  the  union  between  the  living  principle, 
 the  mind,  and  the  material  vehicle ;  and,  as  it  were,  to 
 
Of  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  251 
 
 fet  them  at  a  greater  diftance  from  one  another,  or 
 make  them  more  indifferent  to  one  another,  as  if  (fo 
 to  fpeak)  ahiioft  beyond  the  fphere  of  one  another's  at- 
 liradion.  Death  is  nothing  more  than  the  total  dilTolu- 
 tion  of  this  tie,  occalioned  in  a  natural  way,  by  fome 
 alteration  in  the  material  frame,  not  in  the  mind; 
 "whereby  that  which  formed  the  nexus,  or  union,  what- 
 ever that  may  be,  is  removed  or  dilengaged.  It  is  pro- 
 bable, that  the  anxiety  and  diftrefs,  under  which  the 
 mind  commonly  feels  itfelf  at  death,  is  owing  rather  to 
 the  manner  and  procefs  of  the  diffolution,  than  to  the 
 diffoiution  itlelf.  For  we  obferve,  that  very  aged  per- 
 fons,  and  infants,  often  die  without  a  ftruggle.  The 
 union  between  foul  and  body,  being  already  weak,  is 
 eafily  diflblved.  And  if  fleep  be,  as  it  feems,  a  par- 
 tial diffolution  of  this  union,  or  a  fctting  the  mind  and 
 body  at  a  greater  diilance  from  one  another,  the  reafon 
 why  it  gives  no  difturbance  is,  that  it  comes  on  in  fuch 
 a  manner  as  not  forcibly  to  tear  in  pieces,  but  gently  to 
 relax  the  ligatures,  whatever  they  are,  between  the  ma- 
 terial and  fpiritual  natures.  That  there  is  an  analogy 
 between  fleep  and  death  is  evident  from  obferving,  that 
 ileep  foraetimes  goes  on  to  death,  as  in  lethargic  cafes, 
 and  in  the  effects  of  ftrong  opiates.  And  it  is  remark- 
 able, that  the  life  of  a  perfon,  who  has  taken  too  large 
 a  dofe  of  opium,  cannot  be  faved  but  by  forcibly  wake- 
 ing  him;  as  if  the  mutual  aftion  of  the  mind  and  body 
 upon  one  another  was  the  medium  of  the  union ;  and 
 that,  if  their  mutual  adlion  upon  one  another  comes  to 
 be  leffened  to  a  certain  degree,  they  become  indifferent 
 to  one  another,  and  the  union  between  them  ceafes  of 
 pourfe,  as  two  companions  walking  together  in  the  dark 
 may  come  to  lofe  one  another,  by  dropping  their  con- 
 yerfation,  and  keeping  a  profound  filence. 
 
 It  is  probable,  that  the  condition  in  which  the  mind, 
 juft  difengaged  from  the  body,  feels  itlelf,  is  very  much 
 like  to  that  of  dreaming ;  all  confulion,  uncertainty, 
 and  incoherence  of  ideas ;  and  that,  in  fome  meafure, 
 like  the  infant-mind  newly  entered  upon  a  ftate  wholly 
 unknown,  it  finds  itfelf  greatly  at  a  lofs,  and  exerts  it- 
 felf with  much  difficulty  aud  difadvantage^  till  a  little 
 
 time 
 
jj2  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  Hn 
 
 lime  ^nd  habit  qualifies  it  for  a  new  and  untried  fcen^ 
 of  adion*. 
 
 If  the  true  account  of  the  human  nature  be,  that  the 
 fpiritualj  adive,  thinking  principle  is  united  to  a  fubtile 
 etherial  vehicle,  M'hofe  refidence  is  in  the  brain,  an4 
 that  death  is  the  departure  of  the  foul  and  fpirit  froir^ 
 the  body ;  which  was  the  notion  of  the  Platonic  Philo- 
 fophers,  and  Jewi/h  rabbii,  and  feems  to  be  counte- 
 fianced  by  the  apoille  Faul%  if  this  be  the  true  account 
 of  the  human  make,  there  is  no  difficulty  in  conceiving 
 the  poffibility  of  the  mind's  thinking  and  ading  in  a 
 ilate  of  total  feparation  from  the  grofs  terreftrial  body, 
 Botwithftanding  the  feeming  difficulty  of  a  fufpenlion 
 of  thought  in  profound  fleep,  or  in  a  fainting  fit.  For 
 the  embodied  and  feparate  ilates  are  fo  very  diiferent, 
 there  is  no  reafoning  from  one  to  the  other  on  every 
 point.  It  may  be  impoflible  for  the  mind,  while  impri- 
 ibned  in  the  body,  in  a  great  diforder  of  the  animal 
 irame,  to  join  ideas  together,  for  want  of  its  traces  in 
 the  brain,  and  other  impliments  of  reafoning,  to  which 
 it  has  all  along  been  accuftomed,  and  which  it  cannot 
 do  without;  and  yet,  it  may  be  pollible  for  the  fame 
 mind,  when  freed  from  its  dark  prilbn,  to  go  to  work  in 
 a  quite  different  manner,  to  receive  impreffions  imme- 
 diately from  the  objefts  themfelves,  which  it  received 
 before  by  the  intervention  of  the  fenfes,  and  to  contrive 
 for  itfelf  rtiemorial  traces,  and  the  other  necelTary  appa- 
 ratus for  improvement,  in  a  much  more  perfed  man- 
 ner. It  may  then  be  able  to  penetrate  into  the  internal 
 fubftancej  and  examine  the  minute  arrangement  of  the 
 fmalleft  corpufcles  of  all  kinds  of  material  fyfl:ems.  ^-^ 
 applying  its  dudile  and  delicate  vehicle,  which  may  b^ 
 confidered  as  all  fenfation,  all  eye,  all  ear,  and  touch,  it 
 
 *  Tlie  anther  is  not  afliamed  to  confefs,  that  he  now  thinks  his  former. 
 opinion  concerning  the  ftate  of  the  dead,  as  reprefented  in  thefe  paragraphs^, 
 •erroneous  5  though  he  choofes  not  to  alter  the  text  on  that  account ;  think- 
 ing it  hardly  fair  to  lefTen  the  value  of  former  editions,  by  adding  to  fuc- 
 ceeding  ones  what  is  better  laid  befoie  readers  in  feparate  publications. 
 The  author  is  now  inclinable  to  think  Doftor  Law's  opinion,  in  his  Theory 
 of  Religion,  more  rational,  as  well  as  more  fcriptural,  than  the  generally  re- 
 ceived notion  of  the  (oul's  being  in  a  full  ftate  of  confcioufnefs  and  adivit}' 
 between  death  and  refurreftion.  It  is  a  point  of  mere  fpeculation,  no  way 
 coateriajly  affecting  either  faith  or  manners. 
 
^^fVirtiit.)  IIUMAN  NATURE.  «rfrj. 
 
 "may  accurately  take  off,  not  only  the  real  form,  but  the 
 internal  nature  and  ftate  of  things,  with  all  their  pro- 
 perties, and  prefent  them  to  the  immediate  intuition  of 
 the  perceptive  principle,  juft  as  they  are  in  themfelves; 
 whereas  at  prefent  the  mmd  apprehends  things  only  as 
 the  dull  and  imperfedt  bodily  fenfes  exhibit  them  to  it. 
 It  may  be  able  to  contract  itfelf  to  the  examination  of 
 the  internal  ftrudure  of  the  body  of  the  minutell  ani- 
 malcule ;  and  it  may,  as  it  goes  on  to  improve  and  en- 
 large its  powers,  come  to  fuch  a  perfection,  as  to  diffufe 
 its  actual  preftnce  and  intelligence  over  a  kingdom,  or 
 round  the  whole  globe,  fo  as  to  perceive  all  that  palTes 
 in  every  fpot  on  ilie  face  of  it.  It  may  enter  into,  and 
 examine  the  fubl^me  ideas  which  are  treafured  up  m 
 the  mind  of  an  angel,  and  as  now,  by  perufing  a  book, 
 it  acquires  new  views,  and  by  flow  degr^'es  perfects  thofe 
 it  had  before  acquired ;  fo  it  may  hereafter  attain  fuch 
 a  capacity  of  comprehenlion,  as  to  be  able  to  take  off  at 
 one  intuition  a  whole  new  fcience.  Thus  new  powers 
 anil  faculties,  for  which  we  have  at  prefent  no  names, 
 may  be  for  ever  fpringing  up  in  the  mind,  which  will 
 ever  find  new  employment  in  examining  and  inquiring 
 into  truth.     For  the  objed  of  the  mind  is  infinite. 
 
 That  our  fpecies  (hould  have  another  ftate  to  enter 
 upon,  wholly  diiferent  from  the  prefent,  is  fo  £ir  from 
 being  unreafonabie  to  exped,  that  it  is  analogous  to 
 the  whole  fcheme  of  Nature.  For  there  is  no  fpecies, 
 as  far  as  we  know,  that  do  not  live  in  different  fuccef- 
 five  ftates.  But  to  inftance  only  the  infed  tribe,  many 
 of  that  fpecies,  befides  their  animalcule  ftate,  before 
 they  be  propagated  from  the  male,  in  which  they  differ 
 in  nothing  from  the  whole  animal  creation,  appear  firfk 
 as  eggs,  and  afterwards  as  living  reptiles,  capable  of 
 motion  and  feeding;  then  they  enter  upon  their  nymph  or 
 aurelia  ftate,  and  continue  for  feveral  m^onths  as  it  were 
 coffined  up  in  their  llough,  and  totally  infenfible.  At 
 laft  they  burft  their  prifon,  expand  their  wings,  and  fly 
 away  in  the  ftiape  of  butterflies,  dragon-flies,  or  other 
 winged  infeds,  according  to  their  feveral  fpecies.  This 
 fuccefiion  of  ftates,  of  which  the  laft  is  the  moft  perfect, 
 hfis  been  confidered  as  emblematical  of  our  mortal 
 
 life, 
 
254  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  tlli 
 
 life,    our  intermediate  ftate,   and  refurredion  to  im«> 
 mortality. 
 
 But  the  moft  irrefragable  proofs  for  the  future  im- 
 mortality of  the  human  fpecies,  feparate  from  thofe 
 which  revelation  yields,  are  taken  from  the  conlidera- 
 tion  of  the  perfedlions  of  the  Maker  and  Governor  of 
 the  world,  who  deligns  all  his  works  according  to  infi- 
 nite wifdom  and  goodnefs,  and  according  to  the  true 
 ftate  of  things.  No  one  can  fuppofe  that  the  God  of 
 Truth  would  have  allowed  that  a  whole  order  of  rational 
 creatures  fhould,  by  any  means  whatever,  be  milled  into 
 an  univerfal  perfuafion  of  a  ftate  for  which  they  never 
 were  intended.  For  it  is  evident,  that  if  we  are  not 
 formed  for  a  future  immortal  ftate,  we  can  have  no 
 more  concern  with  any  thing  beyond  death,  than  with 
 the  world  in  the  moon,  and  confequently,  our  whole 
 bufinefs  being  with  the  prefent  life,  it  is  not  to  be  fup- 
 pofed,  that  our  infinitely  wife  Creator  would  have  fuf- 
 fered  our  attention  to  have  been  taken  off  from  it,  by 
 our  being  led  into  the  notion  of  any  other ;  much  lefs 
 that  our  whole  fpecies  fliould  be  irrefiftibly  pofteffed 
 with  the  fame  ufelefs  and  hurtful  delufion:  nor  that  he 
 would  have  univerfally  imprefled  their  minds  with  a 
 falfe  notion  of  an  account  to  be  hereafter  given  of  all 
 their  thoughts,  words,  and  adions.  Had  he  wanted 
 them  to  conform  themfelves  to  his  general  fcheme  in 
 the  government  of  the  world,  he  could  have  brought 
 that  about,  and  certainly  would,  by  any  other  means^ 
 rather  than  by  fuffering  them  to  be  milled  into  a  feries 
 of  groundlefs  imaginations  and  delufions.  Nor  would 
 the  infinitely-wife  Creator  have  given  us  thefe  vaft  and 
 infatiable  defires  after  endlefs  improvement  in  know- 
 ledge, this  reach  of  thought,  which  expatiates  through 
 creation,  and  extends  itfelf  beyond  the  limits  of  the 
 univerfe  ;  nor  would  he  have  fired  our  fouls  with  the 
 profpeft  of  an  endlefs  exiftence  for  carrying  on  thofe 
 improvements,  only  to  curfe  us  with  a  cruel  difappoint- 
 ment.  Nor  would  he  have  made  the  human  foul  for 
 himfelf;  fixed  its  defires  and  wifties  upon  the  enjoy- 
 ment of  his  own  perfe6tions  ;  drawn  and  engaged  it  to 
 love,  admire,  and  breathe  after  the  fruition  of  him; 
 
 raifed 
 
Of  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  1*- 
 
 raifed  it  to  this  lofty  height  of  ambition  only  to  throw 
 it  down,  baffled  and  difappointed,  into  a  ftate  of  inien^ 
 (ibility  and  annihilation*  Nor  would  he  have  formed 
 the  mind  with  a  capacity  for  continual  advances  ia 
 goodnefs,  and  nearer  approaches  to  himfeJf,  only  to  give 
 us  an  opportunity  of  fitting  ourfelves  for  a  future  ItatB 
 of  perfeftion  and  happinefs,  to  which,  according  as  wc 
 approached  nearer  and  nearer,  we  Ihould  approach 
 nearer  and  nearer  to  the  total  difappointment  of  all  oar 
 labours  and  all  our  hopes,  and  find  the  whole  at  laii  to 
 have  been  no  other  than  a  golden  dream. 
 
 The  only  reafon  why  any  one  has  recourfe  to  artifice 
 and  deceit,  is,  that  he  has  not  fagacity  enough  to  gain 
 his  ends  by  proceeding  in  a  fair  and  open  manner- 
 Whoever  is  mafter  of  his  fcheme,  has  no  need  of  tricks 
 and  arts  to  compafs  his  defigns.  And  who  will  dare  to 
 affirm,  that  Infinite  Wifdom  had  no  way  of  bringing 
 about  his  important  defigns  for  the  good  of  his  univerfe, 
 but  by  deluding  his  reafonable  creatures,  or  fuffering 
 them  to  be  univerfally  deluded,  which  is  the  fame,  into 
 the  belief  of  a  future  Utopia  ?  We  know  of  nothing  in 
 nature  analogous  to  this.  Whatever  our  fpecies,  or  any 
 other,  are  liable  to  be  miftaken  in,  is  owing  to  the  mere 
 imperfection  of  fenfe  or  underftanding,  unavoidable  in 
 beings  of  inferior  rank:  but  we  have  no  idea  of  a  whole 
 fpecies  irrefifiiibly  led  into  a  pofitive  error,  efpecially  o£ 
 fuch  confequence  as  that  of  the  expeftation  of  a  future 
 ftate,  if  it  were  an  error.  And  here  it  is  highly  worthy  of 
 remark,  that  it  is  not  the  weak,  the  fliort-fighted,  and  the 
 ignorant  part  of  the  human  kind,  that  are  moll  incli- 
 nable to  the  perfuafion  of  the  immortality  of  the  foul, 
 as  might  have  been  expefted  were  it  an  error;  but  quite 
 otherwife.  While  the  moil  fordid,  degenerate,  and  bar- 
 barous of  the  fpecies  have  overlooked,  or  not  been  fuf- 
 ficiently  perfuaded  of  it;  the  wifell  and  greateft  of  man- 
 kind have  been  believers  and  teachers  of  this  important 
 doclrine;  which  ftiews  it  in  a  light  wholly  unaccount- 
 able, if  it  be  fuppofed  an  error. 
 
 The  irregular  diilribution  of  happinefs  and  mifery  in 
 the  prefent  ftate  renders  it  highly  probable,  that  this  is 
 
 3  oi?!/ 
 
fc^d  THE  DIGNITY  or  (Boole  Ilf; 
 
 only  a  part,  not  the  whole  of  the  Divine  economy  with 
 refped;  to  our  fpecies. 
 
 Do  we  not  find,  that  in  the  prefent  ftate,  the  higheft 
 degree  of  goodnefs  is,  in  fome  cafes,  attended  with  the 
 greateft  unhappinefs?  For  though  virtue  rauft,  in  gene- 
 ral, be  owned  to  be  the  likeliell  means  for  procuring 
 happinefs  in  the  prefent,  as  well  as  future  ftate  ;  yet 
 there  are  numerous  exceptions  to  this  rule.  I  appeal  to 
 the  experience  of  every  man,  who,  from  a  courfe  of 
 thoughtleffnefs  and  libertinifm,  has  had  the  happinefs 
 to  be  brought  to  fome  concern^  about  the  interefts  of  fu- 
 turity, whether  he  does  not  now  fuffer  a  thoufand  times 
 more  of  the  anguifh  of  remorfe  from  a  refledion  upon 
 the  lead  failure,  than  he  did  formerly  for  the  grofleft 
 enormities.  Iffo,  it  is  evident,  that  improvement  in 
 virtue  brings  with  it  fuch  a  delicacy  of  fentiment,-  as 
 muft  often  break  in  upon  the  tranquillity  of  the  mind, 
 and  produce  an  unealinefs,  to  which  the  hardened  fin- 
 ner  is  wholly  a  ftranger.  So  that  in  this  inftance  we 
 fee,  that  virtue  is  not  in  the  prefent  life  its  own  reward,- 
 which  infers  the  neceffity  of  a  future  reward  in  a  life  to 
 come. 
 
 Nor  is  the  permiffion  of  perfecution  or  tyranny,  by 
 ■which  the  beft  of  mankind  always  fuffer  the  moft  fe- 
 verely,  while  wicked nefs  reigns  triumphant,  at  all  re- 
 concileable  with  the  Goodnefs  of  the  univerfal  Gover- 
 nor, upon  any  footing  but  that  of  a  future  ftate,  wherein 
 the  fufferings,  to  which  the  mere  incapacity  of  refifting, 
 or  the  ftrid  adherence  to  truth,  has  expofed  multitudes 
 of  the  fpecies,  of  the  beft  of  the  fpecies,  ftiall  be  fuitably 
 made  up  for.  When  an  AlexandeVj  or  a  Ccdjar,  is  leE 
 loofe  upon  his  fellow-creatures,  when  he  pours  defola- 
 tion,  like  a  deluge,  over  one  fide  of  the  globe,  and 
 plunges  half  the  human  fpecies  in  a  fea  of  theif  own 
 blood,  what  muft  be  the  whole  amount  of  the  calamity 
 fuffered  by  millions,  involved  in  the  various  woes  of 
 war,  of  which  great  numbers  muft  be  of  the  tender  fex^ 
 and  helpleis  age !  What  muft  be  the  terror  of  thofe  who 
 dread  the  hour  when  the  mercilefs  favage,  habituated 
 to  fcenes  of  cruelty,  will  give  orders  to  his  hellhounds 
 to  hfgin  the  general  mafiagre  ?  What  the  carnage  when 
 
 k 
 
T)/  Knowledge.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  ^57 
 
 it  Is  begun?  Men  ilaughtered  in  heaps  in  the  ftreets 
 and  fields;  women  ravidied  and  murdered  before  their 
 hulbands*  faces;  children  dafhed  ^igainft  the  wnlls 
 in  the  light  of  the  parents ;  cities  wrapt  in  flames ; 
 the  fnouts  of  the  conquerors  ;  the  groans  of  the  dying; 
 the  ghaftly  vifages  of  the  dead  ;  univerfal  horror,  mi- 
 ferv,  and  deiblarion.  All  to  gain  a  fpot  of  ground,  an 
 ufelefs  addition  of  revenue,  or  even  the  vllionary  iatif- 
 fa«5lion  of  a  founding  name,  to  fu'ell  the  pride  of  a 
 AAretched  worm,  who  will  himfelf  quickly  fink  among 
 the  heaps  his  fury  has  made,  himfelf  a  prey  to  the  uni- 
 Verfal  leveller  of  mankind.  And  what  is  all  hiftory  full 
 of  but  fuch  horrid  fccnes  as  thelq?  Has  not  ambition  or 
 fuperiVition  fet  mankind,  in  all  ages  and  nations,  in 
 arms  againil  one  another  ;  turned  this  world  into  a  ge- 
 neral fiiarnbles,  and  fattened  every  foil  with  Ilaughtered 
 thoufands? 
 
 The  blood -thirfty  inquifitor,  who  has  grown  grey  iri 
 the  fervice  of  the  Mother  of  Abominations,  who  has  long 
 made  it  his  boaft,  that  none  of  her  priefts  has  brought 
 fo  many  hundreds  of  vidims  to  her  horrid  altars  as  him- 
 felf; the  venerable  butcher  fits  on  his  bench.  The 
 heiplefs  innocent  is  brought  bound  from  his  dungeon, 
 where  no  voice  of  comfort  is  heard,  no  friendly  eye 
 glsnces  companion  ;  where  damp  and  flench,  perpetual 
 darknefs  and  horrid  filence  reign,  except  when  broken 
 by  the  echo  of  his  groans;  where  months  and  years 
 have  been  languiflied  out  in  want  of  all  that  Nature  re- 
 quires ;  an  outcaft  from  family,  from  friends,  from  eafe 
 and  afRuence,  and  a  pleafant  habitation,  from  the  bleffed 
 light  of  the  world.  He  kneels;  he  weeps  ;  he  begs  for 
 piry.  He  foes  for  mercy  by  the  love  of  God,  and  by 
 the  bow^els  of  humanity.  Already  cruelly  exercifed  by 
 torture,  Natui^e  fhudders  at  the  thought  of  repeating 
 the  dreadful  fufierings,  under  which  flie  had  almoit 
 funk  before.  He  protefts  his  innocence.  He  calls  Hea- 
 ven to  witnefs  for  him ;  and  implores  the  Divine  power 
 \o  toucii  the  flinty  heart,  which  ail  his  cries  and  tears 
 cannot  move.  The  unfeeling  monfter  talks  of  herely, 
 and  profanation  of  his  curfed  fuperfl:ition.  His  furious 
 zeal  for  prieftly  power  and  a  worldly  church,  flops  his 
 
 S  eat 
 
^3?  THE  DIGNITY  O?  (Boot  IR 
 
 ear  ajrarnft  fhc  mckinf;  voice  of  a  fellow-creature  pro- 
 flrateat  his  feet.  And  the  terror  neccffary  to  be  kept 
 up  among  the  blinded  votaries,  renders  cruelty  a  pro- 
 per indrument  of  religious  flavery.  The  dumb  execu- 
 tioners llrjp  him  of  his  rsgs.  The  rack  is  prepared. 
 .The  ropes  are  extended.  The  wheels  are  driven  round. 
 The  bloody  whip  and  hiding  pincers  tear  the  quivering 
 flefh  from  the  bones.  The  pullies  raife  him  to  the  roof. 
 The  fmews  crack.  /The  joints  are  torn  afunder.  The 
 pavemeitt  fwims  in  blood.  The  hardened  minifter  of 
 infernal  cruelty  fits  unmoved.  His  heart  has  long  been 
 fteeled  againll  compallion.  He  liftens  to  the  groans, 
 he  views  the  ftrong  convulfive  pangs,  when  Nature 
 fhrinks,  and  ftruggles,  and  agonifing  pain  rages  in  every 
 pore.  He  counts  the  heart-rending  ihrieks  of  a  fellow- 
 creature  in  toiraent,  and  enjoys  his  anguifli  with  the 
 calmnefs  of  one  who  views  a  philofophical  experiment ! 
 The  wretched  vidim  expires  before  him.  He  feels  no 
 movement,  bat  t>f  vexation  at  being  deprived  of  hi^ 
 prey,  before  he  had  fafHciently  glutted  his  hellifh  fury. 
 He  rifes.  No  thunder  roar&.  No  lightning  blafts 
 him.  He  goes  on  to  fill  up  the  meafure  of  his  wicked- 
 nefs.  He  lives  out  his  days  in  eafe  and  luxury.  He 
 .  goes  down  to  the  grave  gorged  with  the  blood  of 
 the  innocent ;  nor  does  the  earth  call  up  again  hi* 
 curfed  carcai'e. 
 
 Can  any  one  think  fu-eh  fcenes  would-  be  fuffered  to 
 be  aded  in  a  world,  at  the  head  of  which  fits  enthroned 
 in  fupreme  majetly  a  Being  of  infinite  goodnefs  and 
 perfed  juftice,  who  has  only  to  give  his  word,  and  fuch 
 monfters  w^ould  be  in  an  inftant  driven  by  his  thunder 
 to  the  centre ;  can  any  one  think  that  fuch  proceedings 
 would  be  fatfered  to  pafs  unpuniflied,  if  there  was  not 
 a  life  to  come,  a  day  appointed  for  rewarding  every 
 man  according  to  his  works  ^ 
 
 Some  have  thought,  that  part  of  the  arguments  for 
 the  immortality  of  the  human  foul,  being  applicable  to 
 inferior  natures,  might  be  faid  to  prove  too  much,  and 
 therefore  to  prove  nothing.  For  that  the  unequal  al- 
 lotment of  happinefs  and  mifcry  among  brute  creatures 
 feems  to  i^cquire,  that  thofe  wha  have  fuftered  unjuftly 
 
 ilk 
 
^OfVlrm.)  HUMAN  NATURE:  35f 
 
 in  this  ftate,  fliould  have  fiich  fufferings  compenfated  tQ 
 them  in  fome  future  exiftence. 
 
 This  difficulty  is  eafily  got  over,  if  we  confider,  firfl:, 
 that  the  fufferings  of  the  inferior  creation  are,  fo  to 
 fpeak,  only  momentary ;  whereas  fore-boding  fears  and 
 cutting  refledlions  increafe  human  niiferies  a  thoufand- 
 fold  ;  which  greatly  abates  the  neceffity  of  a  future  ex- 
 iftence to  make  up  for  what  they  may  have  fuffered 
 here.  Belides,  juftice  does  not  require,  that  any  fpecies 
 of  creatures  be  wholly  exempted  from  fuffering  j  but 
 only,  that,  upon  the  whole,  all  creatures  have  it  in 
 their  power  to  be  gainers  by  their  exiftence,  that  is, 
 that  they  have  in  their  power  a  greater  fhare  of  hap- 
 pinefs  than  mifery.  If  any  one  thinks  it  moft  probable, 
 that  all  creatures,  once  introduced  into  exiftence,  are 
 to  be  continued  in  being,  till  they  deferve,  by  perverfe 
 wickednefs,  to  be  annihilated ;  and  that,  as  material 
 fubltances,  which  feem  to  us  to  penfti,  are  only  difli- 
 pated  into  fmall  inviiible  parts,  fo  the  fpirits  of  all  Y\\^ 
 ing  creatures,  at  death,  are  only  removed  into  another 
 Hate  ;  if  any  one,  I  fay,  thinks  he  fees  reafou  to  be- 
 lieve the  immorrality,  in  a  fucceffion  of  ftates,  of  all 
 living  creatures,  I  do  not  fee  that  my  fubjedl  obliges  me 
 to  confute  fuch  an  opinion; 
 
 -  Though  the  diftinguilhing  charafter  of  man  is  rea- 
 fon,  it  is  evident,  that  reafon  does  not  in  general  pre- 
 vail in  the  prefent  ftate;  but  on  the  contrary,  vice, 
 and  folly,  and  madnefs,  feem  to  be  moft  of  what  this 
 'ivorld  was  made  for,  if  it  be  the  whole  of  man. 
 And  furely,  fuch  an  economy  is  not  worthy  to  be 
 afcribed  to  an  infinitely  wife  Creator.  Is  it  a  defign 
 worthy  of  infinite  Goodneis  to  produce  into  being  a 
 fpecies  to  be  continued  for  feveral  thoufand  years,  to 
 harrafs  and  maftacre  one  another,  and  then  to  fink  agairj 
 into  the  earth,  and  fatten  it  with  their  carcafes?  The 
 Creator  can  never  be  fuppofed  to  have  produced  beings 
 on  purpofe  for  fuffering,  and  to  be  lofers  by  their  exr 
 iftence,  without^ any  fault  of  their  own.  Upon  this 
 foot,  the  brute  creatures  would  have  eminently  the  ad^ 
 vantage  of  our  fpecies.  But  it  is  very  improbable,  that 
 the  beneficent  Author  of  nature  has  taken  mpi;e  care. 
 
-2^0  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Boo^  lit 
 
 and  mnde  a  better  provifion  for  the  inferior  creatures 
 than  for  us.  And  ftiU  move  unlikely,  that  he  has  given 
 the  advantage  upon  the  whole  to  the  mod  worthlefs 
 part  of  our  fpccies,  and  expofed  the  beft  of  mankind  to 
 unavoidable  diftvefs  and  hardihip,  as  is  confpicuoully 
 the  cafe  in  innumerable  inftances  in  this  world.  For 
 in  the  cafe  of  tyranny  and  perfecution,  it  is  evident, 
 that  all  that  the  good  man  has  to  fupport  him  under  his 
 cruel  fufferings,  is  the  teftimony  of  his  confcicnce ;  the 
 perfualion  of  the  Divine  approbation  ;  and  the  hope  of 
 a  future  recompence  of  honour  and  bappinefs  for  the 
 pain  and  fliame  he  has  fuffered  here.  But  to  fay  there 
 is  no  future  (late  of  retribution,  is  to  fay,  That  He, 
 who  placed  confciencc  in  the  human  breaft,  did  fo  for 
 the  f)le  purpofe  of  making  the  beft  of  men  the  moil 
 unhappy  j  that  He,  who  moll  loves,  and  belt  knows  the 
 jiucere  and  upright,  will  fhevv  no  favour  to  the  fincere 
 and  upright,  but  the  contrary;  and  confequently,  that 
 virtue  is  foraething  worfe  than  an  empty  name,  being 
 a  real  and  fubilantial  misfortune  to  its  mod  faithful  vo- 
 tary. To  fay  the  truth,  were  the  prefe'nt  Hate  the 
 whole  of  the  human  exiftence,  it  is  evident,  that  to 
 give  up  life  for  the  caufe  of  religion,  fo  far  from  being 
 virtue,  the  higheft  pitch  of  virtue,  would  be  dire6lly 
 vicious;  becaufe  it  would  be  throwing  away  our  exift- 
 ence for  an  abfolute  nothing.  Annihilate  the  reality  of 
 a  future  ftatc,  and  Chriftianity  is  a  delufion ;  confe- 
 quently not  to  be  fuffered  for. 
 
 There  is,  there  muft  be,  hereafter  a  ftate,  in  which 
 the  prefent  irregularities  (liall  be  reftified,  and  defedls 
 fupplied;  in  which  vice  and  folly  fliall  univerfally,  by 
 eftabliftied  laws  of  the  Divine  economy,  fink  to  difgrace 
 and  puniftiment,  and  wifdom  and  virtue  of  courfe  rife 
 univerfally  triumphant,  and  prevail  throughout  the  uni- 
 vcrfe.  For  it  cannot  be  but  that  what  is  luitable  to  the 
 charader  of  the  univerfal  Goveriror,  fnould  have  the 
 advantage,  upon  the  whole,  in  a  world,  of  which  he  is 
 the  abfolute  and  irrefiftible  Lord,  and  that  what  oppofes 
 perfefb  reditude  armed  with  Omnipotence,  muft  fooner 
 or  later  be  cruflied  before  him.  For  he  does  in  the  ar- 
 mies of  heaven,  and  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth, 
 
 whatever 
 
0f  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURir.  261 
 
 whatever  feeras  to  him  good,  and  none  can  flay  his 
 hand. 
 
 The  virtuous  and  pious  foul  has,  above  all,  fuch  evi- 
 derce  for  irs  owji  immortality,  as  it  cannot  doubt.  Pu- 
 rified from  every  lordid  deiire,  purged  from  every  dreg 
 of  earth,  and  -become  wholly  Ipiritual  and  angelic, 
 whofe  p»orpe(5ls  are  large,  whole  vieus  fublime,  ard 
 and  whofe  dilpolition  godlike:  fach  a  foui  already  feels 
 her  own  immortality,  Whiiil  in  the  body,  flie  is  fen- 
 iibie  of  her  own  independence  upon  the  body,  and  fu- 
 periority  to  it.  While  chained  to  flefli,  and  imprifoned 
 in  clay,  fhe  feels  within  herfelf  celeftial  vigour,  decla- 
 ring her  nobler  origin.  Attraded  by  the  Divine  in- 
 fluence, which  in  degenerate  fpirits  is  clogged  and  over- 
 powered by  fenfual  appetite  and  fordid,  paffion,  fne 
 raifes  her  delires  to  that  better  world,^  for  which  (lie 
 was  formed.  She  pants  for  liberty ;  flie  breathes  after 
 that  ftate  of  heavenly  light  and  real  lire,  which  fuits  her 
 noble  powers  and  elevated  difpolition;  fhe  fpreads  her 
 impatient  wing;  fhe  plumes  herfelf  for  flight;  fne  darts 
 her  angelic  eye  as  it  were  athwart  eternity ;  her  vaffc 
 imagination  already  grafps  futurity;  fl:ie  leaves  behind, 
 in  thought,  this  Icifening  fpeck  of  matter,  and  all  its 
 vanities;  (he  hangs  upon  the  verge  of  titne,  andx>niy 
 waits  the  powerful  call,  which  fpoke  her  into  being,  to 
 fei:z,e  the  future  world,  the  glories  of  the  refurredcion, 
 to  leave  thofe  lower  regions,  and  expatiate  at  large  thro' 
 boundlefs  fpace,  to  view  the  immenfity  of  Nature,  and 
 to  foar  with  choirs  of  feraphim,  to  prefent  herfelf  beiore. 
 the  eternal  throne, 
 
 SECT.     IV. 
 
 ReafGnahlenefs  and  Necejfity  of  the  Connexion  hetiveen  tlm. 
 Behaviour  of  moi  al  Agents  and  their  Haphinejs,  DiJ^ 
 cipline  the  only  means  foi^  bringing  vioral  Agenis  z^oJuii-" 
 tarily  to  piirfue  Virtue, 
 
 HAVING  already  feen,  that  it  vx'as  neccflliry  to  the 
 very  idea  of  a  perfect  fyflem,  that  there  fhould 
 be  a  proper  fubordination,  a  fcale,  rifing  by  eafy  and 
 juil  degrees^,  of  the  various  ranks  of  creatures ;  it;  is  evi-., 
 
 S  J  dent^ 
 
1^  tHE  DIGNITY  O^  (Bool;  III, 
 
 dent,  that  there  muft  have  been  fuch  a  creature  as  man, 
 that  is,  a  fpecies  to  fill  the  place  which  he  poffefles.' 
 And  it  is  plain,  that  as  his  place  is  immediattly  above 
 the  brute,  and  below  the  angelic  nature,  he  could  not 
 pofiibly  have  been  formed  otherwife  than  he  is.  He 
 could  not  be  fuperior  to  the  animal  rank,  without  having 
 powers  and  faculties  fuperior  to  theirs.  It  is  that  which 
 gives  him  his  fuperiority  over  them.  Nor  could  he 
 have  been  inferior  to  the  angelic  order  of  beings,  with- 
 out falling  (hort  of  their  powers  and  faculties.  It  is 
 the  very  thing  which  places  him  beneath  them.  Man, 
 or  whatever  creature  fhould  have  been  made  to  fill  up 
 the  chafm  between  the  angelic  and  the  animal  natures, 
 hiuft  have  been  exadtly  what  we  find  our  fpecies  adu- 
 ally  is.  For  without  fuch  a  rank  as  man,  the  moral 
 fyftem  could  not  have  been  perfed:,  coniequently  could 
 not  have  been  at  all :  for  it  is  impoifible  that  an  abfo- 
 lutely  perfect  Author  (hould  produce  an  imperfedt 
 "ivork.  So  that  there  is  no  room  left  to  complain,  that 
 by  creating  man  in  fuch  a  ftation,  it  was  neceffary  he; 
 Ihould  be  endowed  with  nobler  powers  and  faculties 
 than  the  brutes,  he  comes  to  be  put  in  a  more  elevated 
 and  more  precarious  flate.  It  is  true,  that  very  few' 
 of  the  brutes  are  likely  to  fall  Ihort  of  the  happin'efs  de- 
 iiined  for  them,  having,  as  already  obferved,  but  few 
 chances  of  miffing  of  it,  and  being  more  effedually 
 confined  to  the  track  appointed  them,  than  it  was  pro- 
 per fuch  a  creature  as  man  fhould  be.  But  is  not 
 the  immenfe  fuperiority  of  happintfs  to  which  a  human 
 mind  may,  with  proper  attention,  rife,  a  very  great 
 over-balance  for  all  the  difadvantages  our  fpecies  la- 
 bour under,  were  there  a  thoufmd  for  one. ^  Would 
 any  man.  Who  had  his  choice  before-hand,  whether  he 
 ■would  be  of  the  human  or  the  brute  fpecies,  deliberately 
 choofe  the  latter,  in  which  he  knew  it  was  impoffible  he 
 iliould  ever  attain  any  confiderable  degree  of  perfedion 
 and  happinefs,  rather  than  the  former,  in  which  he  was 
 fure,  if  he  was  not  wanting  to  himfelf,  he  might  rife  to 
 greatnefs  and  felicity  inconceivable?  Would  any  ra- 
 tional creature  make  this  abfurd  choice  merely  upon 
 the  confideration,  that  if  he  was  of  a  fpecies  endowed 
 
 witk 
 
OfVlrtu!.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  3.63 
 
 with  liberty,  it  was  poffible  he  might  be  fo  foolirii  as  to 
 negledt  his  own  interell,  and  with  open  eyes  run  into 
 ruin  and  mifery  ?  What  no  reafonable  being  would 
 choofe,  let  not  prefuinptuous  man  blame  his  Maker  for 
 not  putting  in  his  choice.  If  man  is  what  he  ought  to 
 be,  and  is  placed  where  he  ought  to  be,  what  has  he 
 to  do,  but  to  think  of  filling  his  ftation  with  fuch  pro- 
 priety as  is  neceffary  for  a  reafonable  being  to  lludy, 
 who  is  defirous  of  attaining  his  own  perteftion  and 
 happinefs  in  the  only  way  in  which  they  are  attain- 
 able ? 
 
 If  the  perfed:  concurrence  of  reafonable  beings,  as 
 xvell  as  others,  with  the  Divine  Scheme,  was  neceffary 
 to  the  very  notion  of  a  regular  Univerfal  Syftem,  with 
 an  Univerfal  Governor  at  the  head  of  it ;  it  was  to  be 
 expected,  that  the  final  happinefs  of  fuch  beings  as 
 Ihould  ftudy  to  conform  themfeives  habitually  in  dif- 
 pofition  and  pradlice  to  the  Divine  Scheme,  fliould  by 
 the  pofitive  ordination  of  the  Ruler  of  the  world  be 
 clofely  conneded  with  theiF  character  and  behaviour. 
 And  if  it  be  impoffible  to  conceive  a  plan  of  univerfal 
 oeconomy  laid  by  an  univerfal  and  perfecfl  Mind,  that 
 fliould  not  be  fuitable  to  his  own  neceffary  nature  and 
 charadfer,  but  founded  in  mere  arbitrary  will :  it  is 
 likewife  impoffible  to  conceive  a  fyllem  in  which  the 
 habitual  conformity  of  reafonable  beings  to  the  Grand 
 Scheme  of  the  Univerfal  Governor  fhould  not  naturally, 
 and  as  it  were  of  itfelf,  produce  ha,ppinefs.  The  Di- 
 vine Scheme  of  Government  is  founded,  not  in  arbitrary 
 will ;  but  in  the  eternal  and  unchangeable  rettitude  of 
 the  Divine  Nature.  And  therefore  it  was  as  much  an 
 impoffibiiitj  that  it  fhould  be  contrary  to  what  it  is, 
 or  that  conformity  to  it  fhould  finally  produce  any 
 thing  but  happineis,  or  irregularity  any  thing  but 
 mifery  ;  as  that  the  Divine  Nature,  which  is  neceffarily 
 what  it  is,  fhould  have  been  otlierwife.  So  that,  till 
 the  time  comes,  when  univerfal  regularity  ft;  all  have  the 
 fame  natural  tendency  to  promote  order,  perfedion,  and 
 happinefs,  as  univerfal  conformity  to  the  fcheme  of  the 
 univerfe;  when  the  Divine  Will  comes  to  be  diiedtly 
 contrary  to  all  the  moral  perfedions  of  his  nature,  till 
 
 S  4  im- 
 
J. 5^  THE  DIGNITY  0F  (Bqok  HI, 
 
 impofTibilities  become  poffible,  and  direft  contradictions 
 the  lauie  ;  till  the  time  comes,  when  all  thefe  ill  all  hap- 
 pen, there  can  be  no  f  h^nce  for  the  happinefs  of  any 
 reafoning  being,  who  does  not  Itudy  to  conform  his  dif- 
 '-jcTition  and  praftice  to  the  general  icheme  of  the  Ruler 
 ct  the  world. 
 
 Let  dari?ig  impious  man  hear  this  and  tremble. 
 
 That  there  is  a  reflitude  in  conduft,  which  is  inde- 
 pendent upon  any  connefled  happineis,  feems  fo  evident, 
 that  one  would  wonder  how  feme  writers  have  perfuad- 
 ed  themfelves,  and  laboured  to  perfuade  others.  That 
 the  only  good,  or  rectitude  of  an  action,  is  its  tendency 
 to  produce  happinefs.  After  what  I  have  faid  to  fhew 
 the  natural,  as  well  as  judicial  connection  between  vir- 
 tue and  happinefs,  I  muft  declare,  that  to  me  it  appears 
 evident,  That  recTtitude  is  prior  to,  and  independent 
 upon,  all  tendency  to  produce  happinefs.  To  prove 
 this  very  briefly,  let  it  be  propofed  to  a  perfon,  that  he 
 have  his  choice  to  perform  fom.c  noble  adion,  fuch  as 
 delivering  his  country,  by  one  of  two  methods,  the 
 farmer  of  which  fhall  oblige  him  to  make  ufe  of  a  piece 
 of  diffimAdation,  which  fnall  hurt  no  creature,  but  if  he 
 choofes  the  latter,  he  may  fave  his  country  without  the 
 leaft  deviation  from  truth.  Ought  a  man  of  integrity. 
 to  heiitate  one  moment  which  of  the  two  methods  he 
 would  choofe  ?  And  does  not  the  preference  of  the  latter 
 to  tlie  former,  the  confequences  of  both  being  the  fame, 
 fiiew  plainly  a  redtitude  in  mere  veracity,  independent 
 of  its  producing  happinefs  ?  Again,  were  a  traveller  to 
 fee  fome  flrange  fight,  which  never  had  been,  or  could 
 be  feen,  by  any  other,  would  it  not  be  evidently  better 
 that  he  gave  an  account  of  it  on  his  return,  exadlly  in 
 every  circumilance  as  it  really  was,  than  that  he  fl:cukl 
 in  the  fmallefl  circumilance  deviate  from  truth  ;  though 
 fuch  deviation  fliould  have  no  kind  of  efitiOt  upon  any 
 perfon  in  the  world?  Farther,  is  it  not  certain,  beyond 
 all  poffibility  of  doubt,  that  the  Supreme  Being  acts  al- 
 ways from  the  greateit  and  beft  motives,  and  according 
 to  the  wifL-ft  and  mod  perfed  rules,  at  the  fame  time 
 that  his  happinefs  is,  has  been,  and  will  be,  neceffarilyj 
 r.t  all  moments,  from  eternity  to  eternity,  the  fame,  un- 
 
 change  abie^ 
 
OfVh-tuf.)  HUMAN  "NATURE.  865 
 
 changeable,  and  abfoliitely  perfcd.  Is  the  whole  red:i- 
 tude  of  created  beings  the  pnrfuit  of  happinefs?  And 
 is  there  no  foundation  for  Divine  Reditude  ?  Is  it 
 not  rectitude  in  a  prince,  or  a  father,  to  wifii  the  hap- 
 pinefs of  his  people,  or  children,  without  regard  to  his 
 own  happinefs  ?  Is  not  benevolence  the  more  truly  com- 
 mendable for  its  being  dilintereficd  ?  Whereas,  upon 
 the  fcherae  of  placing  the  whole  of  redlitude  in  pur- 
 fuing  the  greateft  happinefs,  it  ought  to  be  quite  the  re- 
 Tcrfe.  Ought  not  a  good  man  to  do  what  is  right,  ra- 
 ther than  the  contrary,  if  he  were  lure,  that  himfelf  and 
 the  whole  univerfe  were  to  be  annihilated  the  next 
 moment,  fo  that;  it  would  be  impoffible  that  any  degree 
 of  happinefs  fliould  be  the  coniequcnce? 
 
 There  is  pjain-ly  an  independent  redtitude,  or  good- 
 nefs,  in  the  condud:  of  moral  agents,  feparate  from  the 
 connexion  betv/een  virt:ue  and  happinefs.  And  this  is 
 the  foundation  of  the  Recell;ty  of  their  ading  according 
 to  a  certain  fixed  courfe ;  and  confequently  of  their 
 having  laws  and  rules  promulgated  to  them  by  the  Uni- 
 verfal  Governor.  Nor  does  this  at  all  invalidate  the 
 connedion  between  virtue  and  happinefs;  but  on  the 
 contrary,  fhews  that  there  is,  and  ought  to  be,  iiich  a 
 connedion.  And,  generally  fpeaking,  there  is  no  fafer 
 way  to  try  the  moral  excellence  or  turpitude  of  adions^ 
 than  by  confidering  the  natural  confequences  of  their 
 being  univerfally  pradifed.  For  example,  let  it  be  fup- 
 pofed  a  queiiionab'e  point.  Whether  the  mu^'der  of  the 
 i-nnocent  is  in  itfelf  nght,  or  otherwife.  Try  it  by  the 
 confeqiieuce?,  which  muft  foUo^v  the  univerfal  pradice 
 of  deftroying  all  the  good  and  virtuous  part  of  mankind; 
 and  it  immediately  appears  to  be  fo  far  from  right,  that 
 nothing  can  be  conceived  more  contrary  to  reditude. 
 On  the  other  hand,  let  it  be  difputed.  Whether  the 
 protedion  and  prefervation  of  the  innocent  be  right. 
 Let  it  be  confidered,  what  would  be  the  confequences 
 of  innocence- sbeing  univerfally  preferved  and  proteded; 
 and  it  appears  evident  beyond  all  pouibiiity  of  doubt, 
 that  nothing  is  more  agreeable  to  reditude.  Reditude, 
 therefore,  does  not  confift  in  the  purfuit  of  happinefs ; 
 nor  does  the  happiaefs;  confequent  upon  a  certain  courfe 
 
^^6  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  lil^ 
 
 ©f  conduct,  conftitute  the  reditude  of  fuch  condud. 
 The  true  Itate  of  the  cafe  is,  Certain  adions  are  firft  in 
 t.hemfelves  right,  and  then  happinefs  is  the  natural  and 
 judicial  confequence  of  them. 
 
 In  order  to  bring  mankind  to  a  complete  and  perfed; 
 concurrence  with  the  Univerfal  Scheme,  it  was  plainly 
 neceiTary,  that  other  means  fliould  be  ufed  than  force, 
 or  inftind:;  the  firft  of  which  was  fufficient  for  working 
 dead  matter,  and  the  fceond,  the  animal  creation,  to  the 
 Divine  purpofe.  Had  man  been  only  inanimate  matter, 
 nothing  more  would  have  been  neceiTary,  than  that  he 
 fliould  be  aded  upon.  Had  he  been  a  machine  ;  a 
 weight,  or  a  fpring,  would  have  been  fufficient  to  make 
 Jiim  perform  his  motions.  Were  there  nothing  in  man 
 but  the  mere  animal  powers,  were  he  capable  of  being 
 wrought  to  nothing  higher  than  the  animal  fundions, 
 "were  his  nature  fit  for  no  higher  happinefs,  than  thofe 
 of  eating  and  drinking,  and,  after  living  a  few  years, 
 and  leaving  behind  him  a  fucceflbr  to  fill  his  place,  and 
 continue  the  fpecies,  to  pafs  out  of  exiHence  ;  were  this 
 the  cafe,  there  would  have  needed  no  v^ery  grand  appa- 
 ratus to  make  him  fill  his  inconfiderable  place,  fo  as  to 
 contribute  his  fmall  fliare  to  the  happinefs  of  the  whole, 
 and  to  fecure  his  own  mean  portion.  But  it  is  very  much 
 otherwife,  as  will  immediately  uppear.  I  believe  hardly 
 any  one  will  deny,  that  man  (or  however  moft  of  the  fpe- 
 cies) are  endowed  with  the  faculty  of  underftandmg;  by 
 which,  though  weak  indeed  and  narrow  at  prefent,  our 
 fpecies  are  yet  capable  of  diftinguifliing  truth  from  falfe- 
 iiood,  in  all  points  of  importance,  and  with  fufficient 
 certainty,  as  fhewn  above.  Now,  in  order  to  a  crea- 
 ture's ading  properly  its  part,  and  concurring  with  the 
 whole,  it  is  evidently  neceflary,  that  it  make  a  proper 
 ufe  and  application  of  every  one  of  its  faculties.  No 
 one  will  pretend,  I  think,  that  the  perfedion  and  hap- 
 pinefs of  the  univerfe  would  be  as  univerfally  promoted 
 by  every  individual's  making  a  wrong  ufe  ot"  his  facul- 
 ties, as  a- right  one  ;  but  on  the  contrary,  that  every  in- 
 dividual's making  an  improper  ufe  of  his  faculties  would 
 produce  the  moft  confumraate  diforder  and  imperfedioii 
 in  the  fyftem,  and  would  be  the  moft  oppolite  to  the 
 
 Divine 
 
pf  Virtue.}  HUMAN  NATURi:.  *6^ 
 
 Divine  Scheme,  that  could  be  imagined.  It  follows^ 
 that,  if  man  is  endowed  with  underllanding,  he  is  to  be: 
 brought  to  cultivate  and  inform  it,  not  to  trifle  and  blind 
 it ;  to  endeavour  to  enlarge,  not  to  narrow  it ;  to  apply 
 it  to  the  fearching  out  of  ufeful  and  important  truth, 
 not  to  miflead  it  into  the  belief  of  falfehoods,  nor  to 
 employ  it  upon  objeds  unworthy  of  it. 
 
 Another  leading  faculty  in  the  human  mind  is  will. 
 That  there  is  in  man  a  faculty  of  will,  or  a  power  of 
 chooling  and  refufing,  we  fliall  fee  eftablifhed  immedi- 
 ately. What  I  have  to  fay  at  prefent  is,  That  in  order 
 to  man's  concurrence  with  the  Univerfal  Scheme,  it  is 
 neceffary,  that  he  regulate  his  will  properly,  or  in  fuch 
 a  manner,  that  he  may  will  or  defire  whatever  is  for  the 
 general  good,  and  will  or  delire  nothing  that  may  be 
 generally  prejudicial.  No  man,  I  think,  will  pretend, 
 that  it  would  be  better  if  the  wills  of  all  created  beings 
 were  fet  to  thwart  the  general  fcheme,  than  that  they 
 were  formed  to  concur  with  it ;  but,  on  the  contrary, 
 it  is  evident,  that  a  general  oppofition  of  all  beings  to 
 what  is  the  nature  of  things,  and  the  right  upon  the 
 whole,  muft  produce  univerfal  confufion,  and  that  if 
 there  was  no  way  to  bring  about  this  general  concur- 
 rence, it  were  reaionable  to  exped:,  from  the  abfolutely 
 perfedl  rectitude  of  the  Supreme  Governor  of  the  World, 
 that  an  univerfe  of  fuch  perverfe  and  unruly  beings 
 iliould  be  utterly  deftroyed,  or  rather  never  have  been 
 produced.  It  is  plain,  then,  that,  in  order  to  man's 
 acting  his  part,  and  concurring  with  the  general  fcheme, 
 he  muft  be  brought  to  ufe  all  the  faculties  of  his  mind 
 properly. 
 
 I  promifed  above  to  bring  fome  proofs  for  the  fa6t  of 
 man's  being  a  creature  endowed  with  will,  or  freedom 
 to  defire,  and  power  to  determine  himfelf  in  favour  of, 
 or  againft  any  particular  objedl.  The  certainty  of  this 
 fadl  is  founded  in  fenfation,  and  confirmed  by  reafoning. 
 Let  any  man  obferve  what  paflTes  in  his  own  mind,  and 
 he  will  be  obliged  to  own,  that  he  feels  he  has  it  in  his 
 power  to  will,  or  defire,  and  determine  himfelf  in  fa- 
 vour of  or  againft  any  particular  objed.     We  have  no 
 
 other 
 
2^8  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  III, 
 
 other  proof  for  our  exiflence,  nor  is  it  in  its  nature  ca- 
 pable of  any  other,  than  that  we  feel  we  exift. 
 
 But  becaufe  the  reality  of  human  liberty  has  been 
 cavilled  at  by  fome  men  of  metaphyfical  heads,  who 
 have  run  into  greater  difficulties  to  avoid  lefs,  it  may 
 be  worth  while  to  confifier  this  matter  a  little.  I  know 
 not  whether  I  am  made  like  the  reft  of  mankind.  But 
 I  can  feel  every  thing  pafs  in  my  mind,  that  I  can  con- 
 ceive I  Ihould  feel,  if  I  was  really  a  free  agent.  For 
 example,  in  an  indifferent  cafe :  When  1  look  on  my 
 watch,  to  know  whether  it  is  time  for  me  to  give  over 
 writing,  and  I  find  the  hour  come,  when  I  ufually  give 
 over,  I  do  not  find  that  I  am  impelled  to  lay  down  my 
 pen,  in  the  fame  manner  as  the  index  of  my  v»'atch  is 
 moved  to  point  at  the  hour  ;  but  that  I  gave  over,  be- 
 caufe I  think,  lipon  the  whole,  it  is  more  proper,  % 
 Ihould  give  over,  than  go  on.  Does  rny  watch  point 
 to  the  hour,  becaufe  it  thinks  upon  the  whole  it  is  more 
 proper  that  it  fliould  point  to  that  hour  than  any  other? 
 If  fo,  then  the  watch  and  I  are  beings  of  the  fame  fort, 
 endowed  with  much  the  fame  powers  and  faculties. 
 Do  I  not  lay  afide  my  pen,  becaufe  I  choofe  to  lay  it 
 afide,  that  is,  becaufe  I  am  willing  to  lay  it  afide  ? 
 Should  I  give  over,  if  I  was  unwilling  to  give  over  ?  If 
 I  find  my  ufual  time  paft,  and  yet  fhould  be  glad  to 
 iinifli  the  head  I  am  upon,  before  I  lay  afide  my  pen, 
 does  that  motive  adl  upon  me,  and  force  me  to  go  on, 
 as  a  fpring  ads  upon  a  watch,  or  does  it  a6l  as  a  confi- 
 deration  upon  a  rational  creature  .'*  * 
 
 Again,  fuppofe  I  am  tempted  to  do  a  bad  adion,  do 
 the  motives  laid  in  my  way  force  my  compliance  ?  Do 
 I  not,  on  the  contrary,  feel  that  I  yield  to  them,  becaufe 
 I  choofe  to  feize  a  prefent  objedl,  which  I  expedl  to 
 yield  me  fome  fancied  advantage  ?  Do  I  net  feel  in  my 
 own  mind  a  violent  ffruggle  between  theconfiderations 
 of  prefent  profit  or  pleafure,  and  thofe  of  wifdoni  and 
 virtue  ?  Is  it  pofllble  I  fliould  feel  any  fuch  ffruggle  if 
 I  was  not  free  ?  Does  any  fuch  thing  pafs  in  a  machine? 
 Do  I  not  find,  that  I  fometimes  yield  to  temptations, 
 which  at  other  times  I  get  the  better  of  ?  Have  not 
 
 others 
 
0/  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  iCp 
 
 others  refifted  temptations  which  have  proved  too  hard 
 for  me  ?  Could  thefe  differences  happen,  if  they  and  I 
 were  machines  ?  Do  not  thele  inftances  of  temptations 
 conquered,  fix  both  liberty  and  guilt  upon  me,  in  hav- 
 ing yielded  to  what  it  was  plain  I  might  have  refifted 
 at  one  time,  if  I  did  at  another?  If  it  is  extremely  diffi- 
 cult, or  what  may  be  called  next  to  impoffible,  to  refill 
 all  forts  of  temptations  at  all  times,  does  this  prove  any 
 thing  elfe,  than  that  human  nature  is  weak  ?  Were 
 man  a  machine,  he  muil  act  as  a  machine,  uniformly 
 and  invaii'ibly. 
 
 What  I  have  here  remarked  upon  the  cafe  of  being 
 tempted  to  a  bad  adlion,  is  applicable,  mutatis  mutandis f 
 to  that  of  an  opportunity  of  doing  a  good  one.  Mo- 
 tives, according  as  they  appear,  will  influence  a  rational 
 mind.  But  the  appearance  of  motives  to  our  minds, 
 as  well  as  their  influence  over  us,  depends  very  much 
 upon  ourfelves.  If  I  am  prevailed  on  by  motives,  do 
 motives  force  me  ?  Do  I  not  yield  to  them,  becaufe  I 
 choofe  to  yield  to  them  ?  If  this  is  not  being  free,  what 
 is  freedom  ?  What  fliould  1  feel  pafs  in  my  mind,  if  I 
 was  really  free  ?  What  may  we  iuppofe  fuperior  beings, 
 what  may  w^e  fuppofe  the  Supreme  himfelf  to  feel  in  his 
 infinite  mind  ?  Does  he,  (with  profound  reverence  be  is 
 fpoken)  does  he  a«5t  without  regard  to  motives  ?  Does 
 he  ad:  contrary  to  reafonable  motives  ?  Can  we  fuppofe 
 him  uninfluenced  by  proper  motives  ?  Can  we  fuppt)fe 
 he  feels  himfelf  to  be  wholly  uninfluenced  by  reafonable 
 and  important  confiderations  ?  Would  we  be  more  free 
 than  the  mofl:  perfect  of  all  beings  ?  If  he  gives  us 
 liberty  and  power  to  a  proper  extent,  what  would  we 
 have  more  ?  If  we  feel  that  we  have  fuch  liberty,  why 
 fhould  we,  contrary  to  pofllbility,  endeavour  to  bring 
 ourfelves  to  doubt  of  our  having  it  ?  If  we  cannot  doubt 
 of  our  being  free  creatures,  what  have  we  more  to  think 
 of,  than  how  to  make  a  proper  ufe  of  our  liberty,  how 
 to  get  our  wills  formed  to  a  perfeft  concurrence  with 
 the  grand  fcheme  of  the  Governor  of  the  Univerfe,  fo 
 that  we  may  behave  properly  within  our  fphere,  which 
 if  we  and  all  other  moral  agents  did,   every  part  nnift 
 
i!7«i  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Bookllf, 
 
 be  properly  acfled,  every  fphere  properly  filled,  and  uni- 
 verfal  regularity,  perfedion,  and  Happinefs  be  the  refalt. 
 
 Some  have  imagined  that  allowing  liberty  or  will  to 
 created  beings  was  a  derogation  from  the  Supreme,  to 
 whom  alone  the  privilege  of  freedom  ought  to  be 
 afcribed.  It  is  certain  that  this  is  ftridtly  true  of  abfo- 
 lute,  independent,  original  freedom.  As  it  is  undoubted 
 that  independent,  neceflary,  or  natural  exiftence  is  the 
 incommunicable  privilege  of  the  Firft  Caufe,  But,  as 
 we  find  a  limited,  dependent  exiftence  may  be,  and 
 adlually  is,  communicated  to  created  beings,  where  is 
 the  difficulty  or  impropriety  of  fuppofing  a  limited, 
 independent  freedom,  or  power  of  choofing  or  refufing; 
 communicated  to  created  beings.  As  created  beings 
 depend  on  the  Supreme  for  their  exiftence;  and  yet  the 
 exiftence  they  enjoy  is  a  real  and  proper  exiftience  ;  fo 
 may  the  liberty  they  enjoy,  of  choofing  or  refufing,  be 
 a  real  and  proper  liberty,  and  yet  derived  from,  and 
 dependent  on  the  infinite  Giver  of  every  gift. 
 
 If  there  is  no  fuch  thing  as  liberty,  in  any  created 
 being,  as  fome  have  imagined,  then  it  is  evident,  there 
 can  be  no  will  but  that  of  the  Supreme  Being :  for 
 liberty,  or  a  power  of  choofing  or  rt^fufing,  is  only  ano- 
 ther term  for  will.  Will,  or  willingnefs,  implies  free- 
 dom in  the  very  term.  Therefore,  the  common  term 
 free-will  is  a  tautology,  as  much  as  if  one  fhould  fay 
 voluntary  will.  There  neither  is,  nor  can  be,  any  will 
 but  free  will.  Conftraint,  or  force,  is  the  very  oppofite 
 of  will,  or  willingnefs.  Let  it  be  confidered  then, 
 "what  the"  conft^quence  muft:  be  of  aflfirming  that  there 
 is  no  will,  but  the  Supreme.  We  find  in  hiftory,  that 
 a  monfter  of  an  Emperor  wnlhed  that  the  whole  Roman 
 people  had  but  one  neck,  that  he  might  cut  them  all  off 
 at  once.  The  fame  temper,  which  led  him  to  defire 
 the  defl:rudion  of  his  people,  of  whom  he  ought  to  have 
 been  the  father  and  protedor,  would  have  inclined  him 
 to  wifti  the  deftrudion  of  whatever  oppofed  him,  that 
 is,  of  all  good  bemgs  in  heaven  and  earth.  Will  any- 
 one pretend,  that  this  temper  of  mind  is  agreeable  to 
 the  Supreme  will  ?  Is  it  not  blafphemy  to  imagine  the 
 Divine  will  to  be  againft:  goodnefs  ?  But  if  liberty  or 
 
 will 
 
O/rirfuf.)  HUMAN  NATUR?!.  ifcff 
 
 will  in  a  created  being  is  impoffible,  then  what  we  call 
 Caligula's  will  was  really  the  Divine  will ;  the  deltruc- 
 tion  of  all  goodnefs  was  agreeable  to  the  Divine  mind  I 
 It  is  too  horrible  to  think  of. 
 
 I  know,  it  has  been  faid,  that  the  perpetration  of  the 
 moll  wicked  adion,  that  ever  was  committed,  muft 
 have  been  in  one  fenfe  fuitable  to  the  Divine  mind,  and 
 fcheme,  elfe  it  would  have  been  prevented  by  his  over- 
 ruling power.  In  a  ftate  of  difcipline,  it  was  neceffary, 
 that  both  the  good  and  the  wicked  fliould  have  liberty, 
 within  a  certain  fphere,  to  exert  themfelves  according 
 to  their  refpedive  charaders,  and  the  Divine  Wifdom 
 has  taken  meafures  for  preventing  fuch  a  prevalence  of 
 wickednefs  as  fliould  defeat  his  gracious  ends ;  fo  that 
 it  111  all  ilill  be  worth  while  to  have  created  an  uni- 
 verfe  ;  though  every  thing  would  have  gone  incompa- 
 rably better,  had  no  moral  agent  ever  made  a  wrong 
 life  of  his  liberty.  Nor  is  there  the  lead  difficulty  in 
 conceiving  of  the  Supreme  Being,  as  propoling  the 
 greateft  polfible  happinefs  of  his  creatures,  and  of  a 
 wicked  being,  as  Satan,  as  ftudying  how  to  produce  the 
 greateft  mifery.  Which  two  inclinations,  if  they  be  not 
 dired.  oppoiites,  there  is  no  fuch  thing  as  oppolitioa 
 conceivable.  And  if  there  is  a  will  oppofite  to  the 
 Divine,  there  is  freedom ;  for  freedom  is  neceffary  to 
 the  idea  of  will. 
 
 It  being  then  evident,  beyond  contradiflion,  that  maa 
 is  endowed  with  liberty,  or  a  power  of  chooling  to  ad 
 in  fuch  or  fuch  a  manner,  within  the  fphere  appointed 
 him  by  his  Maker,  it  follows,  that  to  bring  him  to  ad 
 his  part  properly,  or  in  fuch  a  manner  as  may  the  moii 
 conduce  to  the  order,  perfedion,  and  happinefs  of  the 
 whole,  fuch  ineans  muft  be  ufed  as  are  fit  to  work  upon 
 an  intelligent  free  agent.  Neither  force,  nor  mere  in- 
 ftind,  being  fuited  to  a  creature  of  fuperior  rank,  fit  to 
 be  aded  upon  by  reafonable  motives,  it  is  plain,  that 
 nothing  is  fo  proper  to  lead  mankind  to  a  fteady  and 
 habitual  attachment  to  reditude  of  condud,  as  placing 
 them  in  a  ftate  of  difcipline. 
 
 We  find  by  experience,  that  we  ourfelves  (and  per- 
 haps it  may  be  the  cafe  of  all  orders  of  rational  created 
 
 beings 
 
'2.P  THE  DIGNITY  OI-*  (Book  Iir; 
 
 beings  in  the  univerfe)  are  not  of  ourfelves  at  firll: 
 ftrongly  attached  to  any  objedl,  but  \That  we  are  led  to 
 by  inilincl  or  conftitution,  in  which  there  is  nothing 
 either  praife-worthy  or  blameable.  Some  minds  are  in- 
 deed obferved  to  be  very  well  or  ill-difpofed,  fo  to  fpealc, 
 in  early  youth.  But  the  goodnefs  of  very  young  per- 
 fons  is  generally  rather  negative,  confiHing  in  a  temper 
 fit  for  virtue,  a  foil  proper  to  fow  the  good  feed  in,  and 
 free  from  any  unhappy  caii  of  difpofition.  As  on  the 
 contrary,  thofe  we  call  unpromifing  children,  are  unfor- 
 tunate through  fome  deficiency  or  redundancy,  mcil 
 probably  in  the  material  frame,  which  proves  unfriendly 
 to  the  cultivation  of  virtue  in  the  mind,  which  would 
 otherwife  fpring  up,  and  thrive  in  it,  almoft  of  itfeif. 
 For  virtue  wants  only  to  be  feen  by  an  unprejudiced 
 mind,  to  be  loved.  But  the  proper  notion  of  goodnefs 
 in  a  moral  agent,  is  a  ilrong  and  habitual  inclination  in 
 the  mind,  to  concur  with  the  Divine  fcheme,  or  to  ad: 
 on  all  occafions  according  to  reditude,  arifing  not  from 
 irreiiilible,  mechanical  inllinct,  nor  from  mere  negative 
 happinefs  of  conllitution,  but  from  clear  and  compre- 
 heniive  views  of  the  nature  of  things,  and  of  moral  obli- 
 gations In  this  there  is  a  real  and  intrinfic  excellence. 
 And  were  this  attachment  to  reditude,  on  rational  con- 
 fiderations,  univerfally  prevalent  in  all  moral  agents  p 
 moral  evil  there  could  be  none.  How  the  moft  effec- 
 tually to  produce  and  fix  in  the  minds  of  free  agents 
 this  inviolable  attachment  to  virtue,  is  therefore  the 
 point  to  be  gained. 
 
 The  Supreme  Mind  perceiving  all  things  as  they 
 really  are,  and  having  all  things  abiblutely  in  his  power 
 can  in  no  refped  be  bialTed  againll:  perfed  reditude  ; 
 but  mult  be  more  inviolably  attached  to  it,  fo  to  fpeak, 
 than  any  finite  being,  whofe  views  muft  be  compara- 
 tively narrow.  And  to  fpeak  properly,  he  is  himfelf 
 the  bafis  and  ftandard  of  reditude.  The  mind  of  an 
 angel,  or  archangel,  mirft,  in  proportion  to  the  extent 
 of  his  views  of  things,  be  more  ftrongly  attached  to 
 reditude,  than  that  of  any  mortal  in  the  prefent  ftate. 
 Yet  we  have  no  reafon  to  imagine  that  fuch  his  attach- 
 ment was  congeni?!  to  him  j  but  mav  rather  conclude 
 
 vt 
 
'Of  Virtue,)  HUIMAN  NATURE.  27^; 
 
 it  to  be  the  effect  of  examination,  habit,  and  gradual 
 improvement.  We  cannot  conceive  of  a  mind  jutl  pro- 
 duced into  exiftence,  as  furnilhed  with  inclinations," 
 attachments,,  or  even  ideas  of  any  kind.  We  have  no 
 conception  of  thefe  as  other  than  the  effects  of  improve- 
 ment. And  we  conlider  a  mind  at  its  firft  entrance 
 into  being,  as  endowed  only  with  the  capacity  of  taking 
 in  ideas,  as  the  eye  is  of  viewing  objedls,  whenprefented 
 to  it.  So  that  we  can  form  no  other  notion  of  the  ele- 
 vated degree  of  goodnefs,  which  thofe  glorious  beings 
 have  attained,  than  as  the  effed  of  their  having  paffed 
 a  very  long  courfe  of  improvement.  Nor  do  the  accounts 
 we  have  in  revelation,  of  the  fallof  fome  of  them,  feem 
 fo  well  to  fuit  any  other  fcheme,  as  that  of  their  hav- 
 ing been  at  that  time  in  a  ftate  of  dilcipline  analogous 
 to  ours.  Be  that  as  it  will,  it  is  evident,  that  to  fuch 
 creatLires  as  we  are,  with  capacities  and  all  other  cir- 
 cumtlances  fuch  as  ours  (and  had  they  been  different, 
 we  Ihould  not  have  been  what  we  are,  nor  where  we 
 are)  nothing  but  a  ftate  of  difcipline  could  have  an- 
 fvvered  the  end  of  producing  in  us  the  neceflary  attach- 
 ment to  rectitude  or  virtue.  For  this  attachment  or 
 inclination  could  not  have  arifen  in  us  of  itfelf,  and 
 ^vithout  adequate  means. 
 
 SECT.     V. 
 
 The  prrfent  z'cry  proper  for  a  State  of  Difcipline^.   OhjeC' 
 tions  a?ifwered. 
 
 "ERE  we  to  imagine  a  plan  of  a  ftate  of  difci- 
 pline, for  improving  a  fpecies  of  beings  fuch  as 
 ours  ti)r  high  itations,  and  extenfive  ufei'ulnefs  in  future 
 riates  ;  how  could  we  fuppofe  it  contrived  in  any  man- 
 ner, that  fnould  be  materially  different  from  the  itate  we 
 find  ourfelves  in  ?  V\^hat  fcheme  could  be  imagined,  like- 
 ly to  anfwer  the  purpofes  of  planting  in  the  mind  of  the 
 creature  the  neceifary  habit  of  obedience  to  the  Supremo 
 
 T  Being; 
 
 *  The  Author  would  not,  if  it  were  to  do  again,  draw  up  the  following 
 iBeftion,  altogether  as  it  ftands  here,  feeing,  as  he  thinks,  real'on  to  changt* 
 his  opinion,  in  lome  points  (none  of  them  indeed  of  any  material  conle- 
 ^uencc)  From  what  it  was,  when  this  book  was  written. 
 
274  THE  DIGNITY  Of  (Book III 
 
 Beinp- ;  of  giving  it  an  inviolable  attachment  to  virtue, 
 and  horror  at  irregularity  ;  and  of  teaching  it  to  ftudy 
 a  rational  and  voluntary  concurrence  with  the  general 
 fcheme  of  ih,i  Governor  of  the  univerfe  ;  what  method, 
 I  lav,  can  we  conceive  of  for  thefe  noble  purpofes,  that 
 Hioiild  not  take  in,  among  others,  the  following  particu- 
 lars, viz.  That  the  fpecies  fhouid  be  furniQied  with 
 fufficient  capacity,  and  advantages  of  all  kinds,  for 
 diiVinguiOiing  between  right  and  wrong:  That  the  in- 
 genuity of  their  difpoiiiions,  and  the  ftrength  of  their 
 ■virtue,  fliould  have  fall  exercife,  in  order  both  to  its 
 trial,  and  its  improvement :  That  they  fliould  have 
 rewards  and  punishments  fet  before  them,  as  the  mod 
 powerful  motives  to  obedience  :  And  tha't,  upon  the 
 whole,  they  lliould  have  it  fairlyintheir  power  to  attain 
 the  end  of  their  being  put  in  a  (late  of  difcipline  ? 
 
 If  we  conlider  the  prefent  as  a  ftate  of  difcipline,  all 
 is  ordered  as  fhouid  be.  We  enter  into  life  with  minds 
 wholly  unfurniftied  vi'ith  ideas,  attachments,  or  bialfes 
 of  any  kind.  After  a  little  time,  we  find  certain  in- 
 lands begin  to  ad  pretty  ftrongly  within  us,  which  are 
 neceffary  to  move  us  to  avoid  what  might  be  hurtful, 
 and  purfue  v/hat  is  ufeful  to  the  fupport  of  the  animal 
 frame,  and  thefe  inftinds  are  appointed  to  anticipate 
 reafon,  which  does  not  at  firft  exert  itfelf;  and  bring 
 us  to  that  by  mechanical  means,  which  we  are  not  capa- 
 ble of  being  worked  to  by  rational  confiderations.  Na- 
 ture has  ordered,  that  our  parents  fliall  be  fo  engaged 
 tons  by  irrefiftible  aifedion,  as  to  be  willing  to  under- 
 take the  office  of  caring  for  us  in  our  helplefs  years  ;  of 
 opening,  and  cultivating  our  reafon,  as  foon  as  it  begins 
 to  appear  ;  and  of  forming  us  by  habit,  by  precept,  and 
 example,  to  virtue  and  regularity.  As  we  advance  in 
 life,  our  faculties,  by  habitually  exerting^  them  upon 
 various  objeds,  come  to  enlarge  themfelves,  fo  as  to 
 take  in  a  wider  compafs.  We  become  then  capr^ble 
 of  reacbning  upon  adions,  and  their  confequences, 
 and  accordingly  do,  in  general,  reafon  juiUy  enough 
 about  matters  of  right  and  wrong,  where  paflion  does 
 not  blind  and  miflead  us.  When  we  come  into  the  viga- 
 rous  and  fljunlhing  time  of  liie,  excited  by  our  pffions 
 
 and 
 
(^jf  virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  175 
 
 and  appetites,  without  which,  with  the  low  degree  of 
 reafoa  we  then  enjoy,  we  (hould  be  but  half  animattd, 
 we  proceed  to  enter  into  various  fcenes  of  adtion.  It  is 
 true,  that  innumerable  irregularities  and  follies  are  the 
 confequence.  But  without  paffions  and  appetites^  we 
 could  not  be  the  compounded  creatures  we  are,  nor 
 confequently  fill  our  proper  ftation  between  the  angelic 
 and  animal  ranks.  Here  then  is  the  proper  opportunity 
 for  exercifmg  our  virtue  ;  for  habituating  us  to  keep 
 continually  on  our  guard  againlt  innumerable  affaults  ; 
 for  watching  over  ourfelves,  that  we  may  not  be  fur- 
 prized,  and  fall  before  temptation  ;  or  if  we  fall,  that 
 by  fufftring  from  our  errors,  we  may  be  moved  to  greater 
 diligence  and  attention  to  our  duty,  to  a  ftronger  attach- 
 ment to  virtue,  and  a  more  fixed  hatred  to  the  crimes  w  hich 
 have  brought  fuch  fufferings  upon  us..  And  though, 
 the  necelTary  propenfions  of  our  nature  do  indeed  even- 
 tually lead  us,  through  our  ov/n  folly,  into  irregularity 
 and  vice,  it  mull  yet  be  owned  at  the  fame  time,  that 
 by  the  wife  and  kind  coi.ftitution  of  nature,  we  have 
 innumerable  natural  dirediions,  and  advantages,  toward 
 reftraining  and  bringing  them  under  fubjedion,  and  in- 
 numerable ill  confequences  are  made  to  follow  naturally 
 upon  our  giving  a  loofe  to  them.  Which  ought  in  all 
 reafonto  lead  us  to  refled:,  that  the  government  of  oar 
 paffions  and  appetites  is  a  part  of  our  wifdom  and  our 
 duty. 
 
 Pleafure  and  pain,  health  and  difeafe,  fuccefs  and 
 misfortune,  reward  and  punifhraent,  often  at  a  very 
 great  dillance  of  time  after  the  a61:ion,  are  made  the 
 natural,  or  at  kciil  frequent  confequences  of  our  general 
 behaviour  here ;  to  fuggeft  to  us  the  reafonablenefs  of 
 concluding  that  an  extenlive  uniformity  prevails  through 
 the  v>rhole  of  the  Divine,  moral  government,  and  that 
 what  we  fee  here  in  fliadow,  will  in  the  future  ftate 
 appear  in  fubilance  and  perfcdion,  and  that  it  not  only 
 will,  but  ought,  to  be  ^0,  and  cannot  be  otherv.'ife.' 
 
 If  vve .  confider  the  oppotite  natural  tendences  and 
 effeds  of  virtue  and  vice,  in  the  prefent  ftate,  we  fhall 
 from  thence  fee  reafon  to  conclude,  that  the  former  is 
 pleafing  to  the  Governor  of  the  world,   and  the  latter 
 
 T  2  the 
 
«76  THE  DIGNITY  QF  (Bcok  IR 
 
 the  contrary.  The  natural  effefts  of  temperance  are 
 health,  length  of  clays,  and  a  more  delicate  enjoyment 
 of  the  innocent  pleafures  of  life.  The  natural  effeds 
 of  gluttony,  drunkennefs,  and  lewdnef?,  are  difeafe  and 
 pain,  difguft  and  difappointment^  and  untimely  death. 
 '  The  natural  eiTedls  of  univerfal  benevolence,  juflice, 
 and  charity,  are  the  love  of  mankind,  faccefs  in  life, 
 and  peace  in  one's  ou  n  nimd.  The  confequences  to 
 be  expeded  fi'om  ill-will,  injuftice,  and  fl-lBlhnefs,  are 
 the  contempt  and  hatred  of  mankind,  and  puniiliment 
 by  the  laws  of  nations.  When  we  fay  fuch  an  effed 
 follows  naturally  from  fuch  a  caufe,  we  mean,  that  it 
 does  fj  by  the  Divine  appointment.  For  what  is 
 natural,  is  only  i^o,  becaufe  the  reditude  requires  it  to 
 be  fa. 
 
 Noiv,  if  our  bodily  frame  is  fo  formed  that  its  well- 
 being  confiiis  in  temperance,  and  that  an  immoderate 
 indulgence  of  appetite  tends  to  diforder  and  unhinge  it; 
 if  the  make  of  the  human  mand,  and  our  fociai  Hate  in 
 life,  are  fuch,  that  the  fociai  virtues  tend  to  produce 
 univeriiil  happinefs,  and  all  this  by  the  conftitution  and 
 courfe  of  nature,  of  which  God  himfelf  is  the  Author  ; 
 if  thefe  things  be  fo,  Vv4io  is  fo  blind,  as  not  to  fee  in 
 all  this  a  moral  government  already  eftablifned  under 
 God,  even  in  this  world,  and  going  on  to  perftdion  ? 
 That  Vv'e  fie  in  fad  innumerable  deviations  from  the 
 natural  connedion  between  virtue  and  happinefs,  and 
 vice  and  mifery  ;  and  that,  through  the  perverlenels, 
 the  wicked nefs,  and  fjmetimcs  the  mere  caprice  of 
 mankind,  and  the  unnatural  and  diforderly  ftate  things 
 are  got  into,  it  comes  to  pafs,  that  the  natural  confe- 
 (juericcs  of  tilings  do  not  invariably  follow,  is  by  no 
 means  an  objtdion  againft  the  conckifion  I  have  drawn 
 from  the  ftate  of  things,  as  the  Divine  Wifdom  confti- 
 tuttd  them,  any  more  than  the  pcllibility  of  refilling 
 the  power  of  gravitation,  or  lifting  a  heavy  body,  is  a 
 proot,  that  there  is  no  fach  law  eftablifned  in  the  natu- 
 ral world  by  the  Author  of  Nature. 
 ,  That  we  may' not,  by  a  continued  courfe  of  cafe  and 
 happinefs,  be  l^d  either  to  fuch  arrogance  and  pride,  as 
 
 to 
 
€>f  Virtue.)'  HUMAN  NATURE.  777 
 
 to  conclude  ourfelves  the  lords  of  nature,  and  to  forget 
 that  there  is  One  above  us  ;  or  to  fix  our  ntTedions 
 upon  the  prefent  fcate,  which  is  only  intended  to  be 
 tranfient  and  temporary,  not  lafling  and  final ;  to  an- 
 fwer  thefe  important  ends,  we  are  placed  in  the  fchool 
 of  affliction,  to  be  broke  and  tamed  to  obedience.  Tliat 
 happinefs  too  eafily  come  at,  and  a  conllant  feries  of 
 fuccefs  and  profperity,  are  by  no  means  proper  for  fucli 
 unprincipled  and  unexperienced  beings  as  we  are,  is 
 too  evident  from  the  effects  of  eafe  and  affluence,  which, 
 very  few  can  bear  without  almoil  loiing  tiieir  reaibn. 
 The  fcenes  of  madnefs  run  into  by  viilorious  princes,  of 
 which  hillory  is  full ;  the  pranks  fromtimetotiiiie  played 
 by  our  nobility  and  rich  commoners,  and  the  fate  of 
 whole  nations,  whenever  they  arrive  at  the  pinnacle  of 
 greatnefs  and  riches,  fkew  the  abfolute  neceliKy  of  af- 
 flidion  to  force  us  upon  con'fideration,  to  put  us  in  mind 
 of  the  frailty  of  ournature  and  ftate,  and  to  make  us  re- 
 member that  we  are  under  the  government  of  One,  v/ho 
 can  raife  or  humble,  afflict  or  relieve,  reward  or  punilli, 
 as  to  him  feems  good. 
 
 That  we  may  never  lofe  fight  of  cur  duty,  nor  have 
 it  in  our  power  to  pretend  ignorance,  and  to  filence  even 
 the  poorexcufeof  thoughtleiTnefs,  confcience,  that  ever- 
 watchful  and  faiihful  monitor,  is  placed  within  the 
 mind  itfelf,  to  be  always  at  hand,  to  judge  of  our  cha- 
 raclers  and  adions,  and  to  alarm  us  with  its  (lings  and 
 reprca<:hes,  whenever  we  do  amifs.  And  there  is  no 
 miud  fo  grofs  and  Hupid,  as  net  to  feel  at  times  feme 
 pangs  of  remorfe.  The  very  Cannibal  has  a  clear 
 enough  fenfe  of  right  and  wrong,  to  know  when  he  him- 
 felf  is  injured,  though  he  will  not  Itick  to  injure  his 
 neighbour.  This  effectually  fallens  guilt  upon  him. 
 And  the  lowefl:  and  moft  l;ivage  of  mankind,  who  (hall 
 hereafter  be  condemned,  will  be  obliged  to  own,  that 
 with  all  his  difadvantages  for  knowing  his  duty,  he 
 might  have  aded  his  part  better  than  he  did. 
 
 Not  only  confcience  within,  but  every  ohj°c5l  in  na- 
 ture prefents  us  fome  moral  lefTon.  Teinpelb,  thun- 
 ders, and  lightnings  from  above;  inundations  arid  earth- 
 quakes from  beneath  j  the  fword,  fandac^  and  peililence 
 
 T  3  i^ 
 
5«8  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  liL 
 
 in  our  cities ;  difeafes  and  pains  in  our  own  perfons,  or 
 thofe  of  ournearelt  friends  and  relations,  and  death  on 
 our  righc  hand  and  on  our  left ;  what  are  all  thefe  but 
 awful  and  yet  kind  warnings  from  the  tender  and  com- 
 panionate Father  of  mankind,  who  lliews  himfelf  will- 
 ing to  give  iiis  poor  unthinking,  fliort-fighted  creatures 
 all  :)oifible  advantages  for  virtue  and  happinefs,  that 
 might  be  at  all  confident  with  their  nature  as  free 
 agents,  with  their  condition  as  beings  in  a  (late  of  dif- 
 cipline,  and  with  the  grand  and  univerfal  fcheme,  which 
 muft  be  equitable,  unchangeable,  and  uniform. 
 '  And,  as  if  all  this,  arid  a  thoiifand  times  more  not 
 mentioned,  had  not  been  enough,  w^e  are  taught,  that 
 angels  have  a  charge  over  us,  to  aflitl:  us  in  our  trials, 
 and  ro  prevent  our  falling  too  fhamefully*,  that  the  Di- 
 vine Providence  watches  over  us,  and  fuits  our  circum- 
 Itanccs  to  our  1l"rengih  and  ingenuity  of  diipolition. 
 And  to  crown  all,  the  Ambaffador  of  heaven,, the  image 
 of  'aternal  Deity,  and  briglitnefs  of  Divine  Glory  has 
 defcended  to  our  world,  and  in  our  own  nature  fhewa 
 us,  both  by  his  example  and  his  divine  laws,  what  it  is 
 to  live  as  we  ought,  and  how  we  may  infallibly  attain 
 the  end  of  our  being.  If  this  is  not  doing  enough  for 
 us, — what  would  be  enough  ? 
 
 Thus  it  appears  plain,  that  the  prcfent  was  intended 
 for  a  ftatf  of  dilcipiine,  and  is  very  well  adapted  to 
 that  purpofe.  Nor  does  the  adual  failure  and  hideous 
 Tuin  of  numbers  of  i'P.orai  agents,  who  will  undoubtedly 
 be  founci  hereafter  to  have  perverted  this  ftate  of  dilci- 
 piine for  virtue,  into  an  education  in  vice,  prove,  that 
 the  rtate  was  not  intended  for  training  them  up"  to  vir- 
 tue, or  that  it  is  not  properly  adapted  to  that  purpofe, 
 any  more  than  the  amazing  number  of  abortions,  which 
 happen  in  the  natural  world,  proves,  that  the  general 
 delign  of  feeds  was  not  to  frudify,  and  produce  plants 
 and  animals.  Naturalifts  (liew  us,  that  in  fume  cafes- 
 miUions  of  llamina  perifii  for  one  that  comes  to  matu- 
 rity. And,  as  we  conclude  every  feed  of  a  plant,  or 
 animal  egg,  was  formed  capable  of  frudification,  fo  we 
 may,  that  every  moral  agent  was  formed  capable  of  at- 
 taining happinefs.     The  great  difference  is/  that  in  the 
 
 natural 
 
OJ  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURI.  279 
 
 natural  world,  the  numerous  abortions  we  have  been 
 fpeaking  of,  are  the  confequence  of  the  common  courfe 
 of  nature;  but  in  the  mora!^  of  the  fatal  perv,erfenefs  of 
 unhappy  beings,  who  wiliully  rufli  upon  their  own  de- 
 ftrudion. 
 
 Some  have  made  a  difficulty  of  conceiving  how  the 
 wileil  and  beft  of  beings,  who  mud  have  forefeen,  that 
 great  numbers  of  his  unhappy  {hort-ri;j,hted  creatures, 
 in  fpite  of  all  that  fhould  be  done  for  them,  would  ob- 
 llinately  throw  themfeives  into  deilrudion,  and  defeat 
 the  end  of  their  creation ;  foine  have  puzzled  them- 
 feives, I  fay,  how  to  reconcile  with  the  divine  per- 
 fedtions  of  wifdom  and  gopdnefs,  the  creating  of  fucb 
 beings- 
 
 But  what  ftate  of  difcipline  for  free  agents  can  be  con- 
 ceived, without  luppofing  a  poffibility  of  their  behaving 
 illinit?  Nothing  but  anabfolute  reftraintuponthe  liberty 
 of  the  creature,  which  is  wholly  inconliftent  with  the 
 ture  of  free  agency,  and  of  a  ftate  of  difcipline,  could 
 have  prevented  their  ading  in  many  inftances  amifs. 
 But  the  all-bounteous  Creator  has  effedually  put  it  out 
 of  the  power  of  the  molt  prefuraptuouily  ir.folent  of  his 
 creatures  to  arraign  his  juftice.  For,  if  he  ha§  given 
 to  every  accountable  being  a  fair  opportunity  of  work- 
 ing out  his  ovv7n  happinefs  ;  if  he  hiis  put  inlo  the  bands 
 of  every  individual  the  means;  placed  him  in  the  di- 
 re6l  way  toward  it,  and  is  ready  to  affift  him  in  his  en- 
 deavours after  it;  ix  he  has,  ir;  fliort,  put  happinefs  in 
 the  power  of  every  accountable  being,  v/hich  he  un- 
 doubtedly has,  as  fliewn  above ;  he  has,  to  ail  intents 
 and  purpcfes,  done  the  fame  as  if  he  had  given  it  to 
 every  individual.  For  he,  who  points  me  out  the  way 
 to  get  an  eftate,  or  any  of  the  good  things  of  life,  and 
 who  affifts  and  fupports  me  in  my  endeavours  to  procure 
 it,  he  it  is  to  whom  I  am  obliged  for  whatever  I  ac- 
 quire in  confequence  of  his  advice,  and  by  means  of  his 
 protedtion  and  afhilance?  Novv',  if  the  beneficent  Au- 
 thor of  being  has  thus  given  to  every  individual  fuch. 
 means  of  happinefs,  as  it  muft  be  wholly  through  his 
 ovv^n  perverfenefs  if  he  miffes  it ;  what  Ihadow  of  pre- 
 tence is  there  for  cavilling,  or  what  difUcuity  in  undepi. 
 
 T4  Handing 
 
a8o  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  111. 
 
 {landing  and  vindicating  the  vvifdom  and  goodnefs  of 
 the  adorable  Author  of  exigence  ?  If  we  lay  the  whole 
 blame,  and  with  the  utmort  juftice,  on  him,  who,  ha- 
 ving an  opportunity  and  means  for  gaining  any  fecular 
 advantage  put  in  his  hands,  negleds  them;  if  we 
 fnould  as  much  condemn  the  man,  who,  through  oh- 
 ftinacy  or  indolence,  has  let  flip  an  opportunity  of  ma- 
 king his  fortune,  as  another,  who  through  extrava- 
 gance has  diflipated  one  already  in  his  poffellion  ;  if  we 
 lliould  as  julHy  look  upon  thatperfon  as  our  benefador, 
 by  whofe  means  we  acquire  the  conveniences  of  life,  as 
 on  the  immediate  giver  of  a  gift,  what  remains  but  that 
 we  juilify  and  adore  the  boundlefs  goodnefs  of  the  uni~ 
 verial  Parent  of  Nature,  who,  by  calling  innumerable 
 creatures  into  exiftence,  by  endowing  them  with  reafon, 
 by  placing  them  in  a  Hate  of  difcipline,  and  giving 
 them  all  poflible  advantages  for  the  improvement  ne- 
 cefiary  for  happinefs,  has,  in  effed:,  put  in  the  hands 
 of  every  accountable  being  a  felicity  fit  for  a  God  to 
 beftow?  And  if  every  individual,  that  fhall  hereafter 
 be  condemned,  fliall  be  obliged  to  confefs  his  fentence 
 juft,  and  to  own  that  he  might  have  afted  a  better  part 
 than  he  did,  the  Divine  julHce  and  goodnefs  ftand 
 fully  vindicated  in  the  fight  of  the  whole  rational 
 creation. 
 
 For,  whatl — Mull  the  infinite  Author  of  exiPtence 
 (with  reverence  be  it  fpoken}  muft  He  deny  himfelf 
 the  exertion  of  his  boundlefs  goodnefs  in  producing  an 
 univerfe  of  conlcious  beings,  of  whom  numbers  will  in 
 the  event  come  to  happinefs,  merely  to  prevent  the  felf- 
 fought  deftiudion  of  a  fet  of  wicked  degenerate  beings? 
 Either  there  muft  have  been  no  creatures  brought  into 
 being  above  the  rank  of  brutes,  confequently  no  hap- 
 pinefs above  the  animal  enjoyed  by  any  created  being, 
 or  freedom  of  agency  muft  have  been  given.  And  what 
 freedom  is  conceivable  without  a  poflibility  of  error  and 
 irregularity,  and  confequently  of  mifcry  ?  But  is  not  the 
 happinefs  of  one  virtuous  mind  of  more  coiifequence 
 than  the  voluntary  ruin  of  a  thoufand  degenerate  be- 
 ings ?  And  is  not  a  ftate,  in  which  we  have  the  oppor- 
 Tunity  of  attaining  an  inconceivable  felicity,  if  we  be 
 
 not 
 
()fl':r:uc.J  HUMAN  NATURE.  i$t 
 
 not  inexcuf.ibly  wanting  to  ourfelves,  is  not  this  a  ftatc 
 to  be  willieJ  tor  by  mankind,  if  thcv  had  their  choice 
 either  to  come  into  it  or  not?  As  for  thofe  unhappy  be- 
 ings of  our  fpecies,  who,  proceeding  from  one  degree  of 
 T'-ice  and  folly  to  another,  Ihall  at  laft  conne  to  be  har- 
 dened againft  all  good,  what  is  the  value  of  thoufands 
 <if  fach  beings  in  the  edimation  of  infinite  wifdom  and 
 rectitude,  that  their  deftru-flion  fliould  be  thought  a 
 hardfliip?  For  what  elfe  are  iuch  degenerate  beings  fit? 
 Eefides,  we  know  that  Divine  Wif,lom  has  fo  planned 
 out  his  univerfal  economy,  that  an  inferior  good  fhaP, 
 in  the  end,  proceed  from  what  was  by  wicked  beings 
 intended  for  ruin  and  raifchief.'  The  whole  human 
 fpecies.  were  originally  formed  capable  of  happinef*^, 
 and  every  individual  has  happinefs  in  his  power  But 
 as  the  Divine  Wifdom,  which  perfectly  knew  the  future 
 chara(?ters  of  all  his  creatures,  with  ail  thecircuniltar.ces 
 they  Iliould  be  efteded  by,  forefaw  that  numbers  would 
 come  to  deviate  from  the  eternal  rule  of  reiftitude,  it  was 
 proper  that  a  fecondary  fcheme  ihould  be  provided,  by 
 means  of  which  thole  free  agents,  who  fhouid  not  vo- 
 luntarily yield  the  due  obedience  and  concurrence  with 
 the  general  detign,  Ibould,  by  fuperior  diredion,  be 
 farced  to  contribute  to  the  greater  perfection  and  beauty 
 of  the  whole.  Of  this  fecondary  part  of  the  divine 
 economy,  we  can  trace  out  fome  very  coniiderable  parts, 
 as  the  following,  viz.  We  know  that  wicked  and  cruel 
 men,  i:i  endeavouring  to  root  out  truth,  and  fweep  vir- 
 tue from  theearth,  have  ever  been  made,  in  fpite  ofthem- 
 felves,  the  inftruments  of  their  more  general  ellablifh- 
 ment.  The  whole  race  of  perfecutors  of  Chriftianity, 
 from  Herod  down  to  Lewis  XIV.  have  fo  egregioully 
 overiliot  themfelves,  as  to  be  the  very  caufes  of  the 
 greater  prevalency  of  true  religion,  which  has  given  oc- 
 cafion  to  the  well-known  faying,  That  the  blood  of  the 
 martyrs  has  been  the  feed  of  the  church.  In  more  pri- 
 vate life,  it  is  notorious,  that  a  very  confiderable  part 
 of  the  trials  of  the  virtue  of  good  men  ariies  from  the 
 wicked  part  of  the  fpecies.  And  every  trial,  where  the 
 good  man  comes  off  with  honour,  ferves  naturally  to 
 ;§(lablifh  his  virtue,  and  to  incrcaf;^  his  icvvard  hereafter. 
 
 The 
 
tgi  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IIL 
 
 The  mere  contraft  between  the  character  of  the  pious, 
 the  temperate  and  benevolent  man,  and  that  of  the 
 blafphemer,  the  voluptuary,  and  the  hard-hearted,  fets 
 off  the  former  to  the  utmoft  advantage,  and  preftnfs  it 
 to  the  general  obfervation  in  the  fairefl:  point  of  view  ; 
 by  which  votaries  to  virtue  are  gained,  and  a  horror  at 
 vice  is  raifed  in  every  confiderate  mind.  And  in  the 
 future  ftate,  what  powerful  efFeds  may  be  produced  by 
 the  fearful  and  exemplary  punifhm.ents  inflided  on 
 thofe  of  our  fpecies,  or  others,  Vv'ho  have  degenerated 
 from  the  dignity  of  their  nature,  and,  as  much  as  they 
 could,  defeated  the  end  of  their  creacion,  may  be  ima- 
 gined by  thofe  who  coniider  what  extenfive  connedions 
 between  the  various  orders  of  being  may  hereafter  come 
 to  be  opened  to  our  view,  and  that,  as  all  moral  and 
 free  agents  of  all  orders  are  now  allied,  they  may  here- 
 after come  to  be  united,  and  make  one  immenfe  and 
 univerfal  fociety;  and  whatever  has  been  originally 
 intended  for  ufefulnefs  to  one  order  of  moral  agents, 
 may  at  laft  come  to  be  ufeful  to  all.  Something,  ana- 
 logous to  this  we  have  in  the  cafe  of  the  fallen  angels, 
 whofe  ruin  is  mentioned  in  Scripture  as  a  warning 
 to  us. 
 
 It  has  been  faid,  Since  the  Supreme  Being  forefaw, 
 ivithout  a  poffibility  of  error,  what  would  be  the  exacH 
 charader  of  every  one  of  his  creatures,  was  it  not  to 
 have  been  expeded,  that  fuch  of  them  as  he  knew  would 
 turn  out  wicked,  and  come  to  ruin,  ihould  never  have 
 been  brought  into  exillence,  or  cut  off  in  the  begin- 
 ning of  life?  Our  Saviour  lays  of  Judas^  for  example, 
 that  it  had  been  better  for  him  never  to  have  been  born. 
 How  then,  fay  they,  came  he  to  be  born  ?  Or  why 
 was  he  not  removed  out  of  life,  before  he  came  to  the 
 age  of  perpetrating  the  moil  atrocious  crime  that  evej- 
 was  or  can  be  committed  ? 
 
 Though  I  would  not  be  the  propofer  of  fuch,  pre- 
 fumptuous  queftions,  I  think  it  innocent  enough  to  en- 
 deavour to  anfwer  them.  And  firft,  if  we  confider, 
 that  to  infinite  purity  and  reditude  wickednefs  is  fo 
 odious  as  to  render  the  guilty  perfon  altogether  con- 
 temptible in  his  fight,  we  Ihall  not  wonder  that  he  docs 
 
 net 
 
QfVntue.).  HUMAN  NATURE.-  283 
 
 not  (fo  to  fpeak)  judge  it  worth  while  to  put  him  out 
 of  exiftence,  but  lets  him  go  on  to  fill  up  the^meafure 
 of  his  iniquity,  and  reap  the  fruit  of  his  doings.  Again, 
 it  is  to  be  confidered,  that  Infinite  Wifdora  intending 
 to  work  out  great  and  valuable  ends  by  what  is  defigned 
 by  his  wicked  creatures  for  ruin  and  mifchief,  may 
 therefore  think  proper  to  fuffer  thera  to  go  on  to  heap 
 damnation  on  themfelve?,  and  determine  to  make  ufe 
 of  their  feif-fought  deftrudion  for  the  advantage  of  the 
 more  valuable  part  of  his  creatures.  How  the  charac- 
 ter of  one,  who  does  not  yet  exifl,  is  fore-knqwabie,  we 
 have  no  conception,  though  we  find  from  fcripture  that 
 it  is  fo,  in  the  cafe  o^  Judas  particularly. 
 
 On  the  feeramg  difficulty  of  reconciling  with  the 
 Divine  Goodnels,  our  being  placed  in  a  Hate  perhaps 
 more  difadvantageous  for  virtue  and  happinefs  than 
 that  in  which  other  orders  of  beings  are  created  j  a 
 ftate  expofed  to  fuch  a  variety  of  temptations,  as  ren- 
 it  hard  for  beings,  furniflied  with  fuch  moderate  degrees 
 of  (Irength  as  we  are,  to  get  the  better  of  the  important 
 eonfiifl,  on  the  event  of  which  our  eternal  happinefs 
 depends ;  on  this  difficulty  the  following  thoughts  may 
 ferve  to  vindicate  the  Divine  Goodiufs,  and  to  Ihew 
 our  condition  to  be  e?;tremely  defirable,  inftead  of  our 
 being  hardly  dealt  with,  as  fome  have  infinuated. 
 
 li  our  condition  w'ere  fuch,  that  one  fingle  deviation 
 from  our  duty  would  at  once  irrecoverabiy  determine 
 t')ur  fate,  or  that  what  nfay  properly  be  ca'led  human 
 infirmity  (liould  doom  us  to  irreverfible  deftrudtion,  there 
 might  be  feme  pretence  for  complaint.  But  if,  fo  far 
 from  that^  a  faithful,  coniiant,  and  prevailing  endeavour 
 to  gain  the  Divine  Approbation,  with  watchfulnefs 
 againft  temptations,  and  repentance  for  our  faults,  fol- 
 lowed by  amendment  of  life,  be  the  means  for  attaining 
 happinefs  -,  where  lies  the  mighty  hardlhip  ?  Nay,  I 
 would  aik.  any  impartial  perfon,  whether  it  were  more 
 defirable  to  be  put  in  a  Itate  of  trial,  in  which  there 
 iliould  be  upon  the  whole  fewer  chances  of  mifcarrying, 
 but  lefs  allowance  to  be  made  in  the  final  judgment  for 
 deviations  ;  or  to  be  in  a  ftate  expofed  to  greater  hazards, 
 but  v.'itb  greater  allowances  to  failures  ?    Is  it  not  the 
 
 fame 
 
4^.|  THE  DIGNITY  OF        '  (Book  III. 
 
 *anie  thing  in  the  event,  how  various  the  temptations  in 
 the  ilate  of  trial  may  be,  if  the  merciful  allowances, 
 made  by  the  judge,  be  proportioned  to  them.  And 
 who  can  doubt  that  Infinite  Goodnefs  will  make  all  polli- 
 ble  allowances  hereafter  for  thofe  failures  of  weak  and 
 frail  beings,  which  fhall  be  found  to  have  been  owing 
 to  the  mere  infirmity  of  their  nature,  and  the  precari- 
 oufnefs  of  the  prefent  (latCg  not  to  daring  impiety  and 
 prefumptuous  wickednefs.  And  it  will  accordingly  be 
 hereafter  found,  that  a  competent  number  of  our  fpecies 
 have  aciually  been  able,  under  the  greatefl:  difadvantap^es, 
 to  attain  fuch  a  raeafure  of  conformity  to  the  Divine 
 Will,  as  fhall,  vv^ith  the  heavenly  afiiftance,  and  allow- 
 ances to  be  niade  for  human  frailty,  be  found  proper 
 for  rendering  them,  upon  the  Chritlian  plan,  objccfls  of 
 the  mercy  of  the  Judge  of  the  World,  and  capable  of 
 being  raifed  to  a  Ita^e  of  happinefs ;  which  will  fhew, 
 that  the  mifcarriage  of  the  reft  was  u^holly  owing  to 
 their  own  perverfenefs,  and  that  they  themielves  were 
 the  whole  caufe  of  that  deilruclion,  which  the  others 
 efcaped. 
 
 Every  one  knows,  that,  with  refpedt  to  the  prefent 
 flate,  exclufive  of  futurity,  there  is  great  difficulty  in 
 getting  through  life,  without  fome  fatal  mifconduct, 
 which  may  embitter,  and  render  it  unhsppy.  And 
 very  doubtful  it  muft  be  confelTed  to  be,  whether  a  new- 
 born infant  fliall  get  over  the  precarious  time  of  youth, 
 without  being  drawn,  through'  ralhnefs  and  thoughleff- 
 nels,  and  the  temptations  of  bad  company,  into  iuch  a 
 courfe  of  folly,  as  may  effeclually  prevent  his  proving 
 a  ufeful  and  valuable  member  of  fociety.  Yet  Ave  al- 
 ways look  upon  the  birth  of  a  child  into  the  Vv'orld  as  a 
 fubjedt  of  joy,  not  of  grief  or  complaint,  and  upon  the 
 untimely  death  of  a  young  perfon  as  a  calamity ;  be- 
 caufe  we  take  into  our  viev/  the  confideration  of  its  be- 
 ing in  the  poM'er  of  every  perfon,  through  Divine 
 Alliftance,  which  is  never  wanting  to  the  honcft  mind, 
 to  behave  well  in  life,  if  he  pleafes,  and  we  hope  he 
 will  do  fo.  The  warrior  is  fufficiently  apprized  of  the 
 danger  of  engaging ;  a  danger,  which  it  is  out  of  his 
 pov/er  to  v/ard  off.     Yet  he  longs  to  mix  in  the  martial 
 
 tumult  j 
 
Of  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  art/ 
 
 tumult ;   and  engages  with  joy  in  the  glorious  ft  rife; 
 Why  fliould  man  think  himfelf  hardly  ufed   in  being 
 placed  in  a  poll  attended  with  occalional  danger;    but 
 in  which  he  muft  be  egregioufly  wanting  to  himfelf  if 
 he  mifcarries  finally  ?  But  if  I  Ihould  not  choofe  a  hap- 
 pinefs  attainable  only  through  peril  and  trouble,  but 
 would  rather,  through  fordid  itupidity  and  inadivity, 
 deiire    to  decline  exilling  upon  fucli  terras  ;    does  it 
 therefore  follow,  that  the  infinite  Author  of.  exiftcnce 
 may  not  oblige  me,  in  fpite  of  my  obifinacy,  or  ftupi- 
 dity,  to  go  through  what  he  may  judge  proper  for  me, 
 and  necelfary  for  his  great  ends  ?    Has   not  the  potter 
 power  over  the  clay  ?    Suppofe  I  fliould  not  in  this  life 
 be  convinced  of  my  obligations  to  the  Divine  Good- 
 nefs  upon  the  whole,  does  it  follow  that  i  never  (hall? 
 It  has  been  alked,  why  the  beneficent  Author  of  be- 
 ing did  not  purfue  fuch  an  effedual  fcheme  in  the 
 moral  world  as  he  has  done  in  the  natural  ?   It  was,  for 
 example,  the  Divine  intention,  that  the  human  and 
 otiicr  fpecies  (hould  abfolutely  be  preferved  as  long  as 
 the.v/orld  lafted.     The  two  fexes  are  therefore  engaged 
 to  one  another,  and  to  their  common  oiF-fpring,  by  fuch 
 powerful  inflinclive  attractions  as  are  found  fully  fuffi- 
 cient  to  anfwer  this  important  end.     Why  did  not  our 
 Maker  plant  in  our  minds  fuch  a  firong  and  irrefifi:ible 
 propenlity  to  virtue,  as  would  have  efiedually  fecured 
 the  univerfal  happinefs  of  the  fpecies  ?    The  anfwer  is 
 eafy,  viz;.   There  is  reafon  to  believe,  that,   upon  the 
 Avhole,  a  very  great  number  of  the  human  fpecies  will, 
 through  Divine  Goodnefs,  come  to  happinefs ;    fuch  a 
 number  at  leaft,   as   it  fhall  in  the  end  appear  to  have 
 been,  to  fpeak  after  the  manner  of  men,  worth  while 
 to  have  created  the  human  fpecies.    But,  to  propofe  by 
 mere  imiinilive  attractions  alone  mechanically  to  draw 
 free  agents  to  the  love  and  pradice  of  virtue,  is  contra- 
 dictory to  the  nature  of  the  defign.     Becaufe   what  is 
 wanted,  is    not   fo   much,  that   mankind,   and   other 
 free  agents,  be   brought  to  go,  like   machines,  in  a 
 certain  track,  as  that  the  rational  faculties  be  formed 
 in  a  rational  manner  to  the  entire  love  and  habitual 
 purfuit  of  goodnefs.     This  Ihevv^s  mechanical   mean? 
 
 to 
 
2S6  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IfC 
 
 to  be  improper  alone  for  that  purpofc,  though  thej 
 may  prove,  as  we  find,  ufeful  helps ;  and  that  ra- 
 tional means  are  abfoliitely  necefiarv  for  a6ting  upon 
 rational  natures.  And  it  is  ever  to  be  remembered, 
 that  as  the  inanimate  world  is  made  to  concur  with 
 the  Divine  Scheme  in  a  m.echanical,  and  the  animal  in 
 an  in;tinftive  manner,  fo  rational  beings,  if  they  concur 
 at  all,  muft  concur  in  a  manner  fuitable  to  their  nature, 
 I  mean,  in  a  rational,  free,  and  voluntary  manner. 
 
 It  has  likewife  been  faid,  why  did  not  the  fcheme  of 
 the  moral  government  of  the  world  take  in  fuch  a  fuc- 
 ceifior]  of  continual  interpolitions^  as  v/ould  have  effec- 
 tually forced  men  to  have  beeii  virtuous  ?  To  this  may 
 be  anfwered,  tint,  That  miracles  continued  would  foon 
 be  no  miracles,  and  conf-qiiently  would  have  no  effects 
 different  from  thoie  produced  by  the  common  courfe 
 of  nature.  And,  fecondly,  That  if  Omnipotence 
 were  continually  from  time  to  time  to  itrike  offenders 
 dead,  it  is  to  be  queftioned,  whether  abftinence  from 
 vice,  and  the  forced  practice  of  virtue,  which  would  be 
 the  confequence,  would  be  fufficicnt,  in  the  nature  of 
 things,  to  render  moral  agents  capable  of  any  high  de- 
 gree of  happinefs.  , 
 
 For,  fuppofe  it  were  affirmed,  that  there  is  a  natural 
 abfurdity,  or  inconfiilency,  in  propoiing  to  bcftow^upon 
 an  order  of  creatures  a  very  high  degree  of  happinefs, 
 upon  any  other  footing,  than  in  confequence  of  their 
 having  paffed  with  honour  and  victory  through  a  ftate 
 of  probation,  in  which  there  was  fome  difficulty  and 
 danger,  though  not  unfurrnountable ;  fuppofe  it  were 
 alledged,  that  there  is  a  neceflity  in  the  nature  of  things, 
 that  the  happinefs  of  all  rational  beings  be  proportioned 
 and  fuited  to  their  itate  of  probation  ;  yAio  could  con- 
 tradid;  this,  or  ffiev/  the  bare  poflibility  how  fuch  a  crea- 
 ture, as  man,  could,  in' a  conftitency  v.ith  his  own  na- 
 ture, and  the  Divine  Redtitude,  come  to  fuch  a  degree 
 and  kind  of  happinefs,  as  we  believe  to  be  intended  for 
 him,  without  fuch  a  preparation,  as  he  is  to  pafs  through" 
 in  the  prefent  Itate  ?  If  we  judge  according  to  what  ex- 
 perience teaches  us  of  our  own  turn  of  mind,  which  in 
 all  probability  is  univerfal^  wg  cannot  fuppofe  the  hap- 
 pinefs 
 
Of  Virtue.)  HUMAN  nature'.  287 
 
 pinefs  even  of  heaven  itfelf  would  prove  a  happinefs  to 
 beiiig^,  who  fliould  attain  it  too  eafily.  When  a  prince, 
 educated  from  his  infancy  in  expedation  of  the  regal 
 dignity,  comes  to  mount  the  throne  of  his  anceftors,  we 
 do  not  find,  that  it  gives  him  any  greater  joy,  than  an 
 heir  to  a  very  fmail  fortune  has  in  entering  upon  his 
 ellate.  But  fuppofe  a  private  perfon  unexpedfedly  raifed 
 from  poverty,  and  even  from  the  fear  of  death,  to  an 
 imperial  throne  •,  the  tranfport  of  an  elevation  io  unex- 
 pected, from  circumifanccs  fo  grievous,  will  be  likely  to 
 endanger  his  looiing  his  fenfes.  It  is  to  be  fuppofed, 
 that  to  a  fpecies  of  beings  created  in  heaven,  or  tran- 
 fpjrted  thither  they  knew  not  how,  it  would  in  reality 
 be  no  heaven.  Nor  is  there  any  poffibility  of  conceiv- 
 ing of  an  order  of  beings  raifed  to  a  ftation  of  happinefs, 
 without  paiTing  through  a  ftate  of  trial,  who  fhould  not 
 be  in  danger  of  falling  from  it  again,  for  want  of  having 
 been  difciplined  to  virtue,  and  in  a  rational,  as  well  as 
 habitual  manner  attached  to  goodnefs  and  obedience. 
 So  that  trial  and  difcipline  feem  necelTary  to  be  gone 
 through  by  every  fpecies  (I  do  not  fay  by  every  indivi- 
 dual) throughout  the  rational  creation,  fooner  or  later. 
 
 It  has  likewife  been  aiked  on  this  fubjedt,  how  the 
 juftice  of  the  immenfely  different  fates  of  two  perfons, 
 one  of  which  proves  obedient,  and  the  other  v;icked, 
 appears ;  fince  it  may  often  be  fuppofed,  that  he,  Vt^ha 
 has  adually  proved  virtuous,  might  in  more  difadvan- 
 tageous  circumi^ances,  have  been  overcome  by  the  fe- 
 verity  of  his  trial,  and  been  a  reprobate  ;  and  he,  who^ 
 by  the  force  of  very  powerful  temptations,  has  been  fe- 
 duccd,  might,  in  circumltanees  more  favourable  to  vir- 
 tue, have  itood  his  ground,  and  in  the  end  come  to 
 happinefs? 
 
 This  feeming  difficulty  is  not  very  hard  to  obviate. 
 For,  firft,  as  to  him,  who  comes  to  happinefs,  no  one 
 ever  thought  of  injuftice  in  the  cafe  of  a  benefit  bellow- 
 ed. And  he,  who  is  Lord  of  ail,  may,  without  quellion, 
 dowithhis  own  what  he  will  \  he  may  give  to  one  of  his 
 creatures  fuch  advantages  as  fhall  in  the  event  produce 
 ihe  effed  of  qualifying  him  for  final  happinefs.     But 
 
 the 
 
s88  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  lit: 
 
 the  other,  whofe  advantages  were  inferior,  will  not  he 
 havejuil  ground  for  complaint  ?  By  no  means.  If  the 
 advantages,  he  enjoyed,  were  fully  fufficient,  he  ftands 
 ielf-condemned  for  having  abufed  them  ;  nor  could  he 
 in  reafon  exped  them  to  be  more  than  fufficient,  much 
 Icfs  to  be  greatly  above  what  was  fufficient,  and  leaft  of 
 all,  to  be  equal  to  the  greatefl:  advantages,  ever  allowed 
 to  any  other  perfon.  Upon  the  whole,  nothing  is  more 
 evident,  than  that  the  being,  who  has,  adually  proved 
 obedient,  by  whatever  iiieans  he  has  been  brought  to 
 goodnefs,  is,  according  to  the  nature  and  fitnefs  of  thing'', 
 rewardable  ;  and  tiiat  the  foul,  which  fins,  does  in  ftric^ 
 juftice  deferve  to  die. 
 
 The  cafe  of  that  very  confiderable  part  of  the  human 
 fpecies,  which  is  cut  off  in  immature  age,  without  any  op- 
 portunity of  going  through  any  trial  in  life,  feenris,  at  firll 
 "view^  to  lelTen  the  force  of  what  I  have  been  faying  of 
 the  neceffityof  a  flate  of  difcipline,  to  form  the  mind  to 
 virtue.  For  what  is  to  become  of  thqfe,  who  die  in 
 infancy?  Are  they  annihilated  ?  Are  they  happy  or 
 rniferable  in  a  future  (late,  who  have  done  neither  good 
 nor  evil?  Or  do  they  go  through  a  ftate  of  difcipline 
 in  their  feparate  exiftence  ?  ,     .-  .. 
 
 To  what  may  be  faid  on  this  point,  I  have  the  follow- 
 ing brief  anfwers  to  offer :  Firit,  what  I  have  above 
 faid  of  the  neceffity  of  a  ftate  of  difcipline,  muft  be  un- 
 derdood  to  be  meant  of  a  fpecies  in  general.  Perhaps 
 the  circumllance  of  the  bulk  of  a  fpecies's  having  gone 
 through  a  ftate  of  difci.pline,  may  be  fufficient  for  triak- 
 ing  fuch  an  impreffion  upon  the  others,  who  happened 
 to  efcape  it,  as  may  keep  them  to  the  fteady  pradice  of 
 virtue  in  all  future  ftates.  I'his  may  be  the  cafe  ;  and 
 yet  it  might  be  abfurd  to  imagine  a  whole  fpecies  raifed 
 to  happinefs,  without  at  Icall:  a  confiderable  part  of  them 
 going  through  a  difcipline  fjr  virtue,  and  thereby  being 
 qualiried  to  inftrudt  their  more  unexperienced  feilow- 
 beings  in  the  importance  of  keeping  to  tlieir  duty,  and 
 the  tatal  danger  and  direful  effects  of  fvverving  from  it. 
 So  that  whatwas  above  faid  of  the  neceffity  of  a  ftate  of 
 difcipline  for  every  fpecies  cf  rational  ajcuts  in  the  uni- 
 2  verfe. 
 
bf  Virtue.)  liUMAN   NATURE.  .28^ 
 
 verfe,  Hands  upon  the  fame  foot,  not  with  ftanding  this 
 difficuliy. 
 
 But  if  every  period  of  the  exiftenceof  free  agents  be, 
 in  facl,  a  ftate  of  trial  and  difcipline,  in  which  it  is 
 pofiible  (though  Hill  lefs  and  lefs  probable  according  to 
 their  farther  improvements  in  virtue)  that  they  Ihould 
 fall  ;  we  may  then  conceive  of  the  poffibility  of  fur^ 
 mounting  this  difficulty  by  fuppofing  that  tbofe  of  the 
 human  fpecies,  who  do  not  go  through  a  (late  of  dif- 
 cipline in  this  life,  may  be  hereafter  made  partakers  of 
 a  lower  degree  of  happinefs  (as  we  are  in  Scripture  in- 
 formed, that  the  maniions  of  future  blifs  are  various) 
 which  may  prove  their  ftate  of  trial,  as  the  paradiliacai 
 ivas  intended  to  have  been  for  our  fpecies,  and  the  an- 
 gelic was  of  Satan  and  his  angels.  And  as  Adam,  and 
 the  rebellious  angels,  fell  from  a  higher  ftate  than  that 
 which  we  are  placed  in,  fo  may  many  of  thofe  of  ouu 
 fpecies,  whofe  firil  ftate  of"  difcipline  may  commence  afrer 
 this  lite  is  over,  and  after  our  world  is  judged  and  brought 
 to  its  confiimmation.  If  fo,  thofe  of  us  who  have  paft. 
 through  this  mortal  life  in  fiicb  a  m.anner  as  to  be  found 
 lit  objeds  of  the  Divine  Mercy,  will  have  great  realon  to 
 congratulate  ourfelves  on  our  having  pafted  the  danger, 
 and  being  more  fecure  of  our  happinefs,  than  thole  whom 
 we  are  now  apt  to  envy  for  their  getting  out  of  life  fo 
 eafily :  For  we  know  not  what  w^e  ought  to  wifii  for. 
 But  He,  who  made  us,  knows. 
 
 If  any  reader  ihould  imagine,  that  I  intend  to  efta- 
 blifh  any  one  hypothefis  as  the  real  account  of  this 
 matter ;  he  miftakes  my  delign.  All  1  mean  by  what 
 I  have  advanced,  is  only  to  (hew,  that  the  circumftance 
 of  a  confiderable  part  of  our  fpecies's  paffing  through 
 no  ftate  of  discipline  in  this  life,  does  not  invalidate  the 
 neceftity  of  a  difcipline  to  Ije  gone  through  by  every 
 fpecies  of  free  creatures,  in  order  to  their  being  effedlu- 
 ally  attached  to  virtue,  and  io  fitted  for  higher  degrees  of 
 happinefs  and  glory. 
 
 If  after  all  that  has  been  faid,  and  more,  which  might 
 be  offered,  if  it  were  proper,  there  (liould  remain  diffi- 
 culties with  refped  to  the  aug^ft  oeconomy  of  the  in- 
 finitely wife  and  good  Governor  of  the  World  ;  if  fuch 
 fhort-fighted  beings  as  we  are,  ftiould  no   way  be  able 
 
 U  to 
 
2yo  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  III, 
 
 to  reconcile  the  feeming  contradi^ions,  and  furmount 
 the  fuppofed  difficulties  ;  this  is  no  more  than  might 
 have  been  expected.  We  are,  through  the  meannefsof 
 our  faculties,  ignorant  of  infinitely  more  particulars  than 
 we  know,  in  all  extenfive  fubjeds ;  and  we  fee  but  part 
 of  one  fcene  in  the  immenfe  drama  of  the  moral  world. 
 But  in  what  little  we  fee,  weobferve  a  thoufand  times  more 
 than  would  have  been  Sufficient  to  prove  a  wife  and  good 
 government  already  begun,  and  going  on  to  perfedlion. 
 If  therefore,  we  have  any  candor,  or  any  judgment  to 
 form  a  reafonable  dedudion  of  one  thing  from  another, 
 we  cannot  avoid  concluding,  that  Vvhat  we  do  not  com- 
 prehend of  the  Divine  Scheme,  is  of  a  piece  with  what 
 we  do  comprehend,  and  that  the  whole  is  eftabliflied 
 upon,  and  conduded  by,  perfed  and  unerring  reditude. 
 
 The  very  circumilance  of  the  difficulty  we  find  in 
 comprehending  the  whole  of  the  Divine  Scheme,  both 
 in  the  natural  and  moral  world,  while  at  the  fame  time^ 
 ■we  find  we  can  enter  into  them  fo  far,  and  fee  fo  much 
 of  wifdom  and  contrivance,  is  a  beauty,  and  a  proof  that 
 the  Author  is  one  whofe  ways  are  immenfely  above  our 
 ways,  and  his  thoughts  above  our  thoughts. 
 
 Confidering  the  fuperabundant  care  that  has  been 
 taken  for  putting,  and  keeping  us,  in  the  way  to  hap- 
 pinefs,  I  think  it  may  be  fairly  concluded,  that  whoever 
 is  not  fatisfied  with  the  Divine  Wifdom  and  Goodnefs 
 apparent  in  the  conducl  of  the  moral  w^orld,  would  not 
 be  fatisfied  v^ith  any  poffible  degree  of  them.  And  it 
 is  only  going  on  in  the  fame  way  of  finding  fault,  where- 
 ever  we  do  not  underftand,  and  we  fliall  at  lafi:  take  ex- 
 ception againft  all  poifibility  of  guilt  and  confequent 
 iinhappinefs,  and  blame  our  Maker,  if  we  are  not  brought 
 into  the  world  at  once  perfed  feraphs  ;  if  this  earth  is 
 not  the  third  region  of  the  heavens  ;  if  v/e  cannot  give 
 ourfeives  up  to  the  mod  fordid  lulls  and  paffions,  and  yet 
 be  prepared  for,  and  admitted  to  the  converfation  of  angels 
 and  archangels.  But  \^  hen  weak  fhort-fighted  man  has 
 racked  his  narrow  invention  to  fiart  or  to  folve,  a  thoufand 
 imaginary  difficulties  in  the  osconomy  of  the  infinite  Go- 
 vernor of  the  Univerfe,  it  wiil  be  found  at  laft,  that  tho' 
 clouds  and  darknefs  are  round  about  him,  yet  righteouf~ 
 i^sfs  a^d  juilice  are  the  habitation  of  his  throne. 
 
 "    - 3ECT., 
 
Of  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE,  2pi 
 
 SECT.   vr. 
 
 JVhjrem  the  rcqulfde  Concurrence  of  moral  Agents  confijls. 
 Our  Species  under  a  threefold  Ohligation  ;  the  firjt  re- 
 fpevting  themfelvesy  the  fecond  their  Fellow-creatures, 
 and  the  third,  their  Creator.  Of  the  firjl  of  thefe,  to 
 wit,  The  due  Care  and  Regulation  of  the  ?nental  and 
 animal  natures. 
 
 THE  requifite  concurrence  of  moral  agents,  of  what- 
 ever rank  or  order,  or  their  conforaiity  to  the 
 grand  delign  of  the  Univerfal  Governor,  Avhich  is  the 
 ground-work  of  univerfal  harmony,  perfedion,  and  hap- 
 pinefs  throughout  the  creation,  conjirts  in  their  ading 
 according  to  truth,  reditude,  and  propriety  (in  their 
 refpe(fl:ive  Itations,  whether  higher  or  lower  in  the  fcale 
 of  being,  whether  in  ilates  of  difcipline,  or  reward)  in  all 
 cafes  or  circumftances  that  regard  either  themfeives, 
 their  fellow-beings,  or  their  Creator.  Whatever  moral 
 agent  ftridly  and  univerfally  obferves  this  rule,  he  is 
 of  that  charader,  which  we  and  all  rational  beings  call 
 good,  is  amiable  in  the  fight  of  the  Supreme  Judge  of 
 Reditude  and  Goodnefs ;  and  it  is  as  certain,  that  every 
 fuch  being  mud  be  finally  happy,  as  that  the  nature  of 
 things  is  what  it  is,  and  that  perfed  wifdom  and  good- 
 nefs muft  ad  rightly  in  governing  the  world. 
 
 What  makes  the  duty  of  fuch  poor,  lliort-fighted 
 creatures  as  we  are,  who  are  yet  but  in  the  infancy  of 
 our  being,  is  likewife  the  grand  rule  which  every  angel 
 and  archangel  in  heaven  obferves.  Nay,  it  would  be 
 blafphemy  to  think  of  the  Supreme  Governor  of  the 
 Univerfe,  as  conduding  his  immenfe  and  auguft  (Econo- 
 my otherwife  than  according  to  the  facred  rule,  which 
 himfelf  has  prefcribed  for  the  condud  of  his  reafonable 
 creatures,  and  which  is  an  attribute  of  his  own  infinitely 
 perfed  nature,  I  mean,  immutable  and  eternal  reditude* 
 
 In  what  a  light  does  this  Ihew  the  Dignity  of  Hu- 
 man Nature  !  What  may  we  yet  come  to  be  ?  Made  in 
 the  image  of  God  himfelf!  and  taught  to  imitate  his  ex- 
 ample I  to  what  heights  may  we  thus  came  to  be  raifed  ? 
 Would  to  God,   we  could  be  brought  to  confidcr  our 
 
 U  2  ewn 
 
icj^  THl^  DIGNITY  O^  (Bookl£' 
 
 own  imporfance?  Did  we  fufficiently  reverence  our- 
 lelves,  we  fhould  act  a  part  worthy  of  the  honours,  for 
 which  our  Creator  gave  us  our  being. 
 
 The  rectitude  of  that  part  of  our  conducl,  which  re- 
 gards ouifelves,  confilts  in  the  due  care  of  our  minds 
 and  our  bodies,  which  two  parts  eonilitute  oar  whole 
 nature  in  the  prefenr  ftate. 
 
 Our  mental  powers, are  generally  confidered  under 
 the  heads  of  intelligence,  and  paflion.  The  office  o^ 
 the  fall:,  to  judge,  and  diitinguiili  between  what  ought 
 TO  be  purlued,  and  what  avoided  1  of  the  latter,  to  ex- 
 cite to  action.  Where  thefe  two  capital  powers  of  the 
 inmd  hold  each  her  proper  place,  where  the  underftand- 
 ing  is  faithfully  exerted  in  the  fearch  of  truth,  and  the 
 active  powers  for  attaining  the  real  good  of  the  creature, 
 fuch  a  raind  may  be  properly  faid  to  be  duly  regulated, 
 and. in  a  good  condition. 
 
 The  proper  exertion  of  the  undcrftanding  is  in  in- 
 quiry into  important  truth  ;  and  that  underftanding^ 
 Avhich  is  furnilhed  v/ith  extenfive  and  clear  ideas  of 
 things,  and  enriched  with  ufcful  and  ornamental  know- 
 ledge, is  applied  as  the  Divine  Wifdom  intended  every 
 xational  mind  in  the  univerfe  fliould  be,  if  not  in  one 
 Hate,  yet  in  another;  if  not  univerfally  in  a  Itate  of  dii- 
 cipline,  as  that  we  are  now  in,  yet  in  a  (tate  of  perfection, 
 to  which  we  hope  hereafter  to  be  raifed.  And  whoever, 
 in  the  pref?nt  ftate,  is  bleft  with  the  proper  advantages 
 tor  improving  his  mind  with  knowledge  (as  natural  ca- 
 pacity, leifure,  and  fortune)  and  neglects  to  ufe  thofe 
 advantages,  will  hereafter  be  found  guilty  of  having 
 omitted  an  important  part  of  his  duty. 
 
 Having  in  the  foregoing  book  treated  pretty  copiouily 
 of  the  improvement  and  condud  of  the  underltanding, 
 there  is  the  lefs  occafion  to  enlarge  upon  that  fabjedt  in 
 this  place.  Let  us  therefore  proceed  to  confider  wherein 
 the  rectitude  of  that  part  of  our  condudt,  which  regards 
 the  adive  powers  of  the  mind,  conliits. 
 
 In  general,  it  is  evident,   that  the"  will  of  every  indi- 
 
 ■vidual  being   in  the  univerle  ought  to   be  effedually 
 
 ^"f'nned  to  an  abiblute  and  implicit  fubmiffion  to  the 
 
 .  uif^otal  of  the  Umverfal  Governor,  which  is  faying,  in 
 
 other 
 
^fVirtm.)  HUMAN.  NATURE.  7.9} 
 
 other  words,  that  every  created  being  in  the  univerfe 
 ought  to  ftudy  perfect  redlitude  in  all  his  delires  and 
 withes.  He  who  delires  any  thing  contrary  to  the  Di- 
 vine Nature,  and  will,  or  to  what  is  right  and  good,  is 
 guilty  of  rebellion  againft  the  Supreme  Governor  of  the 
 Univerfe. 
 
 The  pallions,  as  they  are  commonly,  but  improperly 
 called,  of  the  human  mind,  are  various,  and  fome  of 
 them  of  fo  mixed  and  compounded  a  naiure,  that  ttiey 
 are  not  ealilj  ranged  under  clalTes.  The  following  are 
 the  principal.  Love,  or  comj)lacence,  or  defire,  v^hofe 
 objed:  is,  whatever  appears  to  us  good,  amiable,  or  tic 
 for  us,  as  God,  our  fellow-creatures,  virtue,  beauty  ; 
 joy,  excited  by  happinefs,  real  or  imaginary,  in  polTcf- 
 liottj  or  profpe<51:  ;  fympathy,  or  a  humane  lenfe  of  the 
 good  or  bad  condition  of  our  fellow-creatureS;  felf-love; 
 ambition^  or  defire  of  glory,  true,  or  falfe ;  covetoufnefs ; 
 Jove  ot"  life  ;  appetites  of  eating,  drinking,  recreation, 
 Jleeping,  and  mutual  delires  of  the  fexes ;  mirth  ;  an- 
 ger;  hatred;  eiivy;  malice;  revenge;  fear;  jealoufy^ 
 grief. 
 
 Ic  is  the  whole  foul,  or  whole  man,  that  loves,  hates, 
 defires,  or  fears.  Every  paffion  is  a  motion  of  the  whole 
 being,  toward  or  from  lome  objeft,  which  appears  to 
 him  either  defirable  or  difagreeable.  And  objects  ap- 
 pear to  us  defirable,  or  difagi-eeable,  either  from  the  real 
 excellence  our  underfianding  perceives  to  be  in  them^ 
 as  in  virtue,  beauty,  proportion, — and  their  contraries,  a> 
 vice,  deformity,  and  confufion  ;  or  from  fome  peculiar 
 fitnefs,  or  congruity  between  the  objects  and  our  parti- 
 cular make,  or  call  of  mind,  which  is  the  pure  arbitrary 
 luffed;  of  our  make ;  as  in  the  reciprocal  love  of  the 
 fexes,  and  the  antipathy  we  have  at  certain  creatures. 
 
 Now  the  Divine  Will,  the  dignity  of  our  nature^  and. 
 perfect  rectitude,  unite  in  requiring  that  every  one  of 
 our  paflions,  and  appetites  be  properly  directed,  and  ex- 
 erted in  a  proper  manner  and  degree  ;  not  that  they  be 
 rooted  out  and  deftroyed,  according  to  the  romantic  no- 
 tion of  the  ancient  Stoic  Philofophers.  It  is  in  many 
 cafes  equally  unfuitable  to  the  dignity  of  our  nature, 
 ihat  the  motions  of  our  minds  be  too  weak  and  lan^uid^ 
 
 U3  a^p 
 
•^94  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  HI. 
 
 as  that  they  be  too  Itrong  and  vigorous.     We  may  be 
 .  as  faulty  in  not  fufficiently  loving  God  and  Virtue,  as 
 in  loving  the  vanities  of  this  world  too  much. 
 
 Previous  to  what  may  be  more  particularly  obferved 
 on  the  conducl  of  the  natural  inclinations  or  paffions  of 
 the  mind,  it  may  be  proper  briefly  to  mention  fome  ge- 
 neral diredions,  which  will  be  found  of  abfolule  ne- 
 ceffity  toward  our  undertaking  the  buiinefs  of  regulat- 
 ing our  paPiions  with  any  reafonable  profpedl  of  fuccefs. 
 
 The  fir  ft  preparatory  diredion  I  fliall  give,  is,  To 
 habituate  ourfelves  as  early,  and  as  conflantly  as  poffible, 
 to  confideration. 
 
 The  faculty  or  capacity  of  thought  is  what  raifes  our 
 nature  above  the  animal.  But  if  we  do  not  ufe  this 
 noble  faculty  for  the  purpofe  of  diftinguifhing  between 
 right  and  wrong,  for  finding  out,  and  praftiiing  our 
 duty,  we  had  been  as  well  without  it.  Nay,  the  beails 
 have  the  advantage  of  thofe  of  our  fpecies,  who  adl  the 
 part  of  beafts ;  in  as  far  as  they  are  not  capable  of  being 
 called  to  an  account,  or  punifhed,  as  unthinking  raen^ 
 for  the  neglecl  or  abufc  of  the  nobleft  of  God's  good 
 good  gifts, — facred  reafon.  It  is  dreadful  to  think  of  the 
 conduct  of  by  far  the  greateft  part  of  our  fpecies,  in  re- 
 fped  of  inconfideratenefs.  Mankind  feem  to  think,  no- 
 thing more  is  neceffary,  to  remove  at  once  all  guilt, 
 than  only  to  drown  all  thought  and  reflection,  and  then 
 give  themfelves  up  to  be  led  or  driven  at  the  pleafure 
 of  paflion  or  appetite.  But  hov/  will  thofe  poor  un- 
 thinking creatures  be  hereafter  confounded,  when  they 
 lind  the  voluntary  neglecl  of  thought  and  confideration 
 treated  as  a  moll  atrocious  infult  upon  the  goodnefs  of 
 the  Author  of  our  being  I  And  what  indeed  can  be 
 more  impious,  or  contemptuous,  than  for  beings  en- 
 dowed with  a  capacity  of  thought  and  underllanding, 
 to  fpurn  from  them  the  ineftimable  gift  of  heaven,  or 
 bury  that  talent  which  was  given  them  to  be  ufed  for 
 the  moll  important  purpofes  of  diltinguifliing  between 
 good  and  evil,  and  purfuing  their  own  happinefs,  and 
 then  pretend,  in  excufe  for  all  the  madnefs  they  are 
 guilty  of,  that  they  did  not  think,  becaufe  they  cared 
 not  to  take  the  pains  ? 
 
0/Vh'tiie.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  ijt)^ 
 
 If  thought  be  the  very  foundation  of  the  dignity  of 
 our  nature  ;  if  one  man  is  preferable  to  another,  accord- 
 ing as  he  exerts  more  reafon,  and  Ihews  more  under- 
 ftanding  in  his  condudt,  what  mull  be  faid  of  thofe, 
 who  glory  in  what  ought  to  be  their  fhame,  in  dcgrad- 
 jrid;  themfelves  to  the  level  of  inferior  beina;s  ? 
 
 Efpecially,  what  profpef^  dojs  the  prefent  age  yield, 
 in  which  we  feem  to  vie  with  one  another,  who  (hall 
 carry  pleafure  and  vanity,  to  the  greateft  height,  and 
 who  fnall  do  the  mod  to  difcountenance  fober  thought, 
 and  regular  condudl  ?  To  determine  of  times  and  fea- 
 fons,  and  how  long  a  nation  may  continue  to  flourillr, 
 in  which  luxury  and  extravagance  have  taken  place  ot 
 all  that  is  rational  and  manly  ;  is  what  I  do  not  pretend 
 to.  But  1  appeal  to  thofe  who  beit  underftand  human 
 nature,  and  the  nature  of  government,  and  who  know 
 the  hiltory  of  other  Hates  and  kingdoms,  which  have 
 been  corrupted  in  the  fame  manner,  whether  we  have 
 not  every  thing  to  fear  from  the  prefent  urdverfal  incon- 
 iiderate  dilTolution  of  manners,  and  decay  of  virtue, 
 public  and  private.  May  heaven  take  into  its  own 
 hands  the  reformation  of  a  degenerate  people  ;  and  give 
 com.fort,  and  more  agreeable  profpet^s,  to  thofe  who 
 bleed  inw^ardly  for  the  decline  of  their  linking  country  I 
 
 To  return  ;  let  any  perfon  conlider  ^e  natural  effefts 
 which  an  attentive  and  habitual  conlideration  of  his 
 own  chara6ler  and  condud  are  likely  to  produce  ;  and 
 then  judge,  whether  it  is  not  his  duty  to  refolve  to  a6t 
 the  part  of  a  reafonable  creature.  .With  refpecl  to  the 
 conduct  of  his  paffions  and  appetites,  let  a  man  make  it 
 his  conilant  cullom  to  fpend  fome  time  every  day  in 
 confidcring  the  following  points,  viz.  Vv'^hether  he 
 indulges  paffion  and  appetite  beyond  the  intention  of 
 nature  ;  whether,  for  example,  he  fets  his  heart  upon 
 gratifying  the  bodily  appetites,  for  the  fake  of  luxurious 
 indulgence,  or  if  he  only  confults  health  in  eating, 
 drinking,  lleeping,  and  recreations  ;  whether  he  gives 
 himfelf  up  to  anger  upon  fmall  or  no  provocation  ; 
 whether  he  fets  his  love  wholly  upon  the  vanities  of 
 life,  or  if  he  afpires  habitually  after  Ibmething  nobler 
 than  any  worldly  purfuit,   and  fo   of  the  refc      Let  a 
 
 ij  ^  man 
 
296  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (BooklU. 
 
 man  accuftom  himft'lf  to  recoiled  every  evening  the 
 jnifcarriages  of  the  day  in  refpedl:  of  his  paffions  and 
 appetites,  arid  he  will  loon  find,  if  he  be  faithful  to 
 hinirelf,  which  are  prevalent,  and  ought  to  be  fubdued. 
 
 Unlefs  we  can  bring  our  minds  to  fome  tolerable  de- 
 gree' of  tranquillity  and  fobriety,  we  cannot  hope  to 
 redrefs  the  irregularities  of  our  paffions  and  inclina- 
 tions. What  condition  muft  that  foul  be  in,  which  is 
 continually  engaged,  and  diftraded  various  ways  after 
 pleafure,  horour,  or  riches?  If  any  irregularity,  or  re- 
 dundancy, fprings  up  in  fuch  a  mindj  there  it  muft 
 abide,  and  flouriQi,  and  ftrengthen  more  and  more,  till 
 it  become  too  deeply  rooted  ever  to  be  eradicated. 
 How  do  we  accordingly  fee  the  gay,  the  ambitious,  and 
 the  covetous,  give  themfelves  to  be  driven  in  a  perpetual 
 whirl  of  amufenients  and  purfuits,  to  the  abiolute  ne- 
 glecl  of  all  that  is  Vv^orth  attendmg  to  .^  But  if  the  men 
 of  bulinefs  cannot  find  time,  for  getting  of  money,  and 
 the  fons  and  daughters  of  pleafure  are  too  much  engaged 
 in.  hearing  raulic,  feeing  plays,  and  in  the  endiefs 
 drudgery  of  the  card-table  ;  to  find  time  for  getting 
 acquainted  with  themfelves,  and  regulating  their  minds, 
 I  can  tell  them  one  truth,  and  a  terrible  one  ;  They 
 muft  find  time  todie,  whether  they  have  prepared  them- 
 felves for  death  or  not. 
 
 Before  any  thing  can  be  done  to  purpofe  toward 
 bringmg  the  paffions  under  due  fubjcction,  it  will  be 
 necelTary  to  bring  down  high-fwelling  pride  and  felf- 
 opinion,  and  to  cultivate  humility,  the  foundation  of 
 all  virtues.  For  this  purpofe,  it  will  be  our  wifdom  to 
 endeavour  to  viev.  ourielves  in  the  light  we  may  fuppofe 
 we  appear  in  before  that  Eye  which  fees  all  things  ex- 
 actly as  they  are.  We  are  therefore  to  confider,  that 
 -vye  do  not  appear  to  our  Maker  under  the  fame  diftinc- 
 tions  53  we  do  to  one  another.  He  does  not  regard  one 
 as  a  king,  another  as  a  hero,  or  a  third  as  a  learned  man ! 
 He  looks  dow^n  from  where  he  fits  enthroned  above  all 
 conceivable  height,  through  the  vafl  fcale  of  being,  and 
 beholds  innumerable  difterent  orders,  all  gradually  de- 
 fcending  from  himfeif,  the  higheit  created  nature  inli- 
 pAtely   inferior   to  his  own  original  perfcdion  I    At  ^ 
 
 Ycrj 
 
P/Viriuf.J  HUMAN  NATURE.  ip^ 
 
 very  great  diflance  below  the  fummit  of  created  cxccIt 
 lence,  and  at  the  very  lowell  degree  of  rational  nature, 
 we  may  fuppofe  the  All-comprehenlive  Eye  to  behold 
 our  humble  fpecies  juft  rifmg  above  the  animal  rank! 
 How  poor  a  figure  muft  we  make  before  him  in  this 
 our  infancy  of  being,  placed  on  this  fpeck  of  creation, 
 creeping  about  like  iiifeds  for  a  day,  and  then  linking 
 into  the  dull  !  Nor  is  this  all.  For  what  appearance 
 muft  a  fet  of  fuch  iawlefs  beings  as  we  are,  make  before 
 that  Eye  which  is  too  pure  to  look  upon  evil  without 
 abhorrence  ?  How  muft  we  appear  to  perfect  Reditude 
 and  Purity,  guilty  and  polluted  as  we  are,  and  covered 
 with  the  ftains  of  wickednefs,  v^^hich  are  the  difgrace  of 
 any  rational  nature  ?  Is  pride  fi.t  for  fuch  an  order  of 
 creatures  as  we  are,  in  our  prefent  ftate  of  humiliation 
 and  pollution  ?  Can  we  value  ourfelves  upon  any  thing 
 of  our  own  ?  Have  we  any  thing,  that  we  have  not  re- 
 ceived ?  And  does  any  realonabie  creature  boaft  of  what 
 it  owes  to  another?  Have  we  not  infinite  reafon  to 
 loathe  ourfelves,  and  to  be  covered  with  fhame  and  confuli- 
 on  ?  And  are  fhame  and  pride,  in  any  refpedl,  confiftent? 
 
 The  few  advantages  we  poflefs  at  prefent  want  only 
 to  be  confidered,  to  convince  us  how  little  they  are  to 
 be  boafted  of.  The  whole  of  our  bodily  perfedions 
 may  be  fummoned  up  in  two  words,  ftrength,  and 
 beauty.  As  for  the  firft,  this  is  a  poor  qualification  to 
 boaft  of,  in  which  we  are,  to  fay  the  leaft,  equalled  by 
 the  plodding  ox,  and  ilupid  afs.  Befides,  it  is  but  three 
 daysficknefs,  or  thelofs  of  a  iitile  blood,  and  a  Hercules 
 becomes  as  manageable  as  a  child  !  Who  then  would 
 boaft  of  what  is  fo  very  precarious  ? 
 
 As  to  beauty,  that  fatal  ornament  of  the  female  part 
 of  our  fpecies,  which  has  exhaufted  the  human  wit  in 
 raptures  to  its  praife,  which  fo  often  proves  the  misfor- 
 tune of  its  poflelfor,  and  the  difquiet  of  him  who  gives 
 himfelf  to  the  admiration  of  it;  which  has  ruined  cities, 
 armies,  and  the  virtue  of  thoufands:  What  is  beauty? 
 A  pleafing  glare  of  white  and  red  refleded  from  a  ikin, 
 incomparably  exceeded  by  the  gloflTy  hue  of  the  hum- 
 ble daily,  which  was  made  to  be  trod  upon  by  every 
 uadruped.    The  mild  glitter  of  an  eye,  outlbone  byevery 
 
 dew- 
 
5^8  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  III. 
 
 dew-drop  on  the  grafs.  Is  it  inherent  in  the  ftrudure 
 of  the  human  frame  ?  No  : — Strip  off  the  fcarf-lkin  to 
 the  thicknefs  of  a  fiflrs  fcale ;  and  the  charming  fair 
 grows  hideous  to  behold.  A  fudden  fright  alarms  her ; 
 a  fit  of  licknefs  attacks  her ;  the  rofes  fly  from  her 
 cheeks ;  her  eyes  lofe  their  fire ;  flie  looks  haggard, 
 pale,  and  ghaftiy.  Even  in  all  the  blooming  pride  of 
 beauty,  what  is  the  human  frame  ?  A  mafs  of  corrup- 
 tion, and  difeafe  covered  over  with  a  fair  Ikin.  When 
 the  animating  fpirit  flies,  and  leaves  the  lovely  taber- 
 nacle behind,  how  foon  does  horror  fucceed  to  adraira' 
 tion  I  How  do  we  haflen  to  hide  out  oi:'  fight  the  loath- 
 fome  remains  of  beauty  !  Open  the  charnel-houfe  in 
 which,  a  very  little  while  ago,  the  celebrated  toad  was 
 laid.  Who  can  now  bear  to  look  on  that  face,  fhrivelled, 
 and  black,  and  loathfome,  which  ufed  to  be  the  delight 
 of  every  youthful  gazer  ?  Who  could  now  touch,  with 
 one  finger,  her,  whofe  very  tteps  the  enamoured  youth 
 "would  have  kiflfed  ?  Can  the  lover  himfelf  go  near, 
 "without  fl:opping  his  nofe  at  her,  who  ufed  to  breathe 
 all  the  perfumes  of  the  fpring  ?  If  beai-fty  is  a  fubjedt 
 for  boafting,  what  is  matter  of  mortification  ? 
 
 The  accomplilhments  of  the  mind  are  like  wife  two^ 
 knowledge  and  virtue.  Is  there  any  reafon  to  be  proud 
 of  the  poor  attainments  we  can  in  the  prefent  fl;ate  gain 
 in  knowledge,  of  which  the  perfeclion  is.  To  know  our 
 own  weaknefs  ?  Is  that  an  accomplilliment  to  be  boafted 
 of,  which  a  blow  on  the  head,  or  a  week's  illnefs  will 
 deftroy  ?  As  to  our  attainments  in  virtue,  or  religioPj, 
 to  be  proud  on  thofe  accounts,  would  be  to  be  proud 
 of  what  we  did  not  poflefs :  for  pride  would  annihilate 
 all  our  virtues,  and  render  our  religion  vain.  If  our 
 virtue  and  religion  be  not  founded  in  humility,   they 
 
 are  falfe  and  fophifticate ;  confequently   of  no  value. 
 
 And  who  would  be  proud  of  what  is  of  no  value  ? 
 
 The  pride  of  riches  is  yet  more  monitrous  than  any 
 of  the  others.     To  turn  the  good  gift  of  Providence 
 
 .'•o  vanity  and  wantonnefs ,  to  value  one's  felf  upon 
 
 ^r  is  altogether  foreign  and  accidental,  and  makes  no 
 
 merit,  as  not  being  the  inherent  qualification 
 
 *■   body  or  mind,    nor  any  way   valuable   or 
 
 honourabie 
 
Of  KnoivkJge.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  ^^ 
 
 honourable,  bat  according  as  we  ufe  it :  What  can  be 
 conceived  more  remote  from  common  fenfe,  uniels  we 
 refled:  on  the  folly  of  thole  who  take  occafion  to  vahic 
 themfelves  on  their  birth,  and  are  proud  that  they  can 
 trace  back  a  great  many  fathers,  grandfathers,  and 
 great-grandfathers,  whofe  virtues  and  vices  belonged 
 wholly  to  themfelves,  and  are  gone  with  them  ?  It  is 
 amazing  to  think  how  poor  a  pretence  is  thought  fuffi- 
 cient  to  Rip  port  human  folly.  The  family  of  the  cot- 
 tager is  as  ancient  as  that  of  the  lord  of  the  manor,  if 
 it  could  be  traced.  And  in  every  family  there  have 
 been.fcoundrels,  as  well  as  heroes,  and  more  of  the  for- 
 mer than  the  latter. 
 
 As  pride  was  the  introdudion  to  all  the  evil  that  we 
 know  of  in  the  moral  world,  fo  humility  is  the  only 
 foundation,  upon  which  the  fl:ru6ture  of  virtue  can  be 
 raifed.  A  fubmiiiiv^e,  tradlable  temper  is  alone  capable 
 of  being  formed  to  obedience.  A  mind  puifed  up  with 
 felf-opinion,  cannotbring^  itfelf  to  liften  to  advice,  or  to 
 yield  to  juft  authority.  The  wife  man  endeavours  to 
 attain  fuch  a  knowledge  of  himfelf,  that  he  may  neither, 
 on  one  hand,  ad:  a  part  unworthy  of  himteli,  nor,  on 
 the  other,  forgethis  prefent  humble  ftation,  and  prefume 
 on  any  thought  or  aclion  unfuitable  to  it. 
 
 Before  we  can  hope  to  go  any  great  length  in  the 
 due  regulation  of  our  paffions  or  inclinations,  we  muil 
 reiblve  carefully  to  ftudy,  and  thoroughly  to  mailer, 
 that  moil  ufeful  of  all  fciences,  felf-knowledge. 
 
 It  is  not  in  fchools,  in  univerfities,  or  in  the  volumi- 
 nous works  of  the  learned,  that  we  muft  fearch  for  this 
 inoft  important  branch  of  knowledge.  He,  who  would 
 know  himfelf,  muft  fearch  carefully  his  own  heart, 
 muft  ftudy  diligently  his  own  charader.  He  muft 
 above  all  things  ftudy  the  peculiar  weaknefles  of  his 
 nature.  In  order  to  find  out  thefe,  he  ought  to  recol- 
 ledl  often  what  particular  follies  have  moft  frequently 
 drawn  him  into  difficulties  and  diftrelTes.  If  he  finds, 
 that  he  has  been  often  engaged  in  quarrels,  and  difputes, 
 he  may  conclude,  that  the  paffion  of  anger  is  too  power- 
 ful in  him,  and  wants  to  be  brought  under  fubjedion. 
 If  he  recoUedls  various  inftances  of  his  behaving  in  a 
 
 lewd 
 
JO©  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  11?, 
 
 lew<i,  an  intemperate,  an  envious,  or  a  malicious  man- 
 ner, and  that  he  has  often  had  occafion  to  blame  him- 
 fe]f  for  a  behaviour  which  has  brought  upon  him  the 
 reflections  of  the  fober  and  regular  part  of  people;  it  is 
 evident,  where  the  faulc  lies,  and  what  is  to  be  cor- 
 redted.  But  confcience,  apd  the  facred  rule  of  life  con- 
 tained in  holy  fcripture^  are  more  certain  tefts  by 
 which  to  try  one's  character,  than  the  general  opinion 
 of  mankind. 
 
 Nothing  is  more  common,  than  for  a  perfon's  weak- 
 nefs  to  be  known  to  every  body  but  himfelf.  Let  a 
 man  therefore  fet  his  own  conduct  at  a  diftance  from 
 himfelf,  and  view  it  with  the  fame  eye  as  he  may  fup- 
 pofe  a  ftranger  regards  it ;  or  with  the  fame  as  he  him- 
 felf views  that  of  another  perfon.  Let  one  endeavour 
 to  find  out  fonie  perfon,  whofe  behaviour  and  charadter 
 comes  the  nearell  to  his  own  ;  and  in  that  view  himfelf 
 as  in  a  mirror.  And  as  there  is  generally  fome  refem- 
 blance  between  the  characters  of  thofe,  who  keep  up  a 
 long  friendihip,  a  man  may,  generally  fpeaking,  fee  his 
 own  likenefs  in  that  of  his  friend. 
 
 It  will  be  of  great  confequence  to  you  to  know  what 
 charafter  is  drawn  of  you  by  your  enemy,  elpecially  if 
 you  find  feveral  agree  in  the  fame.  Enemies  will  help 
 you,  more  than  friends,  in  difcovering  your  faults  ;  for 
 they  will  aggravate  what  your  friends  will  leflen. 
 
 Attend  carefully  to  the  general  (train  of  your  thoughts. 
 Obferve  what  fubjedts  rife  ofteneft,  and  abide  longefl 
 in  your  mind,  and  what  you  dw^ell  upon  with  the 
 greateft  delight.  You  will  by  that  find  out  what  paf- 
 fion,  or  appetite,  has  the  afcendant,  and  ought  to  be 
 fubdued.  It  is  from  the  fulnefs  of  the  heart  that  the 
 mouth  fpeaks.  And  from  a  man's  eager  manner  of 
 talking  on  certain  favourite  fubjedts,  every  one,  who 
 fpends  an  hour  in  his  company,  finds  out  his  prevailing 
 paflion,  while  he  himfelf  perhaps  is,  all  his  life, 
 wholly  ignorant  of  it.  Laftly,  whoever  means  in  ear- 
 ned to  come  at  the  true  knowledge  of  his  own  weak- 
 nefles,  let  him  lilten,  with  the  molt  facred  attention,  to 
 every  motion  of  conlcience.  There  is  more  meaning 
 in  her  fofteft  whifpcr,  than  in  the  loudeft  applaufe  cf 
 ih^  unthinking  multitude,  Ano- 
 
Off  Hue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  301 
 
 Another  dire^ion  of  the  utmofl  confequence  to  our* 
 fetting  about  the  due  regulation  of  our  paflions,  and  in- 
 deed to  our  behaving  in  general  in  a  manner  fuitable  to 
 the  true  dignity  of  our  nature,  is,  That  we  reverence 
 ourfelves. 
 
 TheefTecl,  which  ajufland  habitual  fenfe  of  the  gran- 
 deur and  importance  of  our  nature,  and  the  high  eleva-' 
 tion  we  are  formed  capable  of,  would  have  upon  us,  is,  To 
 infpire  us  with  lentiments  worthy  of  ourfelves,  and  fuit- 
 able to  the  gracious  defigns  of  the  Author  of  our  being. 
 This  is  very  confiftent  with  that  humihty  which  be- 
 comes us  fo  well  in  our  prefent  condition.  Humility  is 
 commendable :  Bafenefs  odious.  Did  men  habitually 
 conlider  themfelves  as  formed  for  immortality,  they 
 ti''ould  not  fo  generaily  fet  their  whole  hearts  upon  the 
 prefent  life.  Did  they  conftantly  keep  in  mind  their 
 heavenly  Original,  and  the  end  of  their  creation,  they 
 could  not  thus  fink  their  very  fouls  into  earth.  Did 
 they  often  reflect  upon  the  worth  of  immortal  minds, 
 they  would  not  think  of  fatisfying  them  with  the  grofa 
 and  fordid  objects  of  fenfe.  Did  they  confider  them- 
 felves as  intended  for  companions  of  angels  and  arch- 
 angels, they  would  not,  by  indulging  carnal  appetite, 
 debafe  themfelves  to  the  level  of  the  brutes.  Did  they 
 duly  reverence  themfelves  as  beings  formed  for  the  con- 
 templation and  fruition  of  infinite  Perfection,  they  would 
 think  it  beneath  them  to  place  their  happinefs  in  the 
 enjoyment  of  any  thing  created. 
 
 One  general  rule  carefully  attended  to,  and  the 
 judgment  of  our  own  confciences  according  to  it  faith- 
 fully foil  )wed,  would  make  the  whole  condudt  of  the 
 paflions  and  appetites  clear,  and  would  prevent  our  fall- 
 ing into  any  error  in  indulging  or  fupprefling  them. 
 The  rule  is,  To  coniider  what  good  purpofe  is  to  be 
 gained  by  the  exertion  of  every  adtive  power  of  the 
 mind;  and  to  take  care,  that  in  the  conduct  of  every  paf- 
 fion  and  appetite,  we  have  that  end  fingly,  and  nothing 
 elfe  in  view. 
 
 I  will  therefore  proceed  to  (hew,  in  a  particular  man- 
 ner, how  this  rule  is  to  be  applied  in  the  regulation  of 
 
 thoi€ 
 
$oa  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IIL 
 
 thofe  of  our  paffions  and  appetites,  which  have  impor- 
 tunt  eifecls  upon  our  moral  charaders. 
 
 That  motion  of  the  mind,  which  we  call  Love,  or 
 Defire,  tends  naturally  to  draw  and  engage  us  to  v.'hat- 
 ever  is  either  in  its  own  nature  truly  amiable  and  ex- 
 cellent, or  v/hich  our  prefent  ftate  renders  it  neceffary 
 that  (he  fhould  be  engaged  to.  There  is  no  danger  of 
 our  loving  God,  or  virtue,  or  defiling  our  own  real 
 bappinefs  too  much.  For  thefe  are  proper  and  worthy 
 objects  of  the  bed  affeclions  of  every  rational  being 
 throughout  the  whole  of  its  exiftence.  The  inclina- 
 tion we  find  in  ourfelves  toward  fuch  objects,  is  the  pure 
 efl'ecl  of  our  having  clear  and  rational  apprehenfions  of 
 their  real,  internal  excellence;  not  of  any  fadlitious  or 
 arbitrary  tafte  implanted  in  our  minds,  or  any  arbitrary 
 iltnefs  in  fuch  objecls  to  gain  our  affeftions.  No  ra- 
 tional unprejudiced  mind  in  the  univerfe  ever  had,  or 
 can  have,  jufi:  apprehenfions  of  the  Divine  perfections, 
 and  of  the  excellence  of  virtue,  that  has  not  admired 
 and  loved  them.  And  the  clearer  the  apprehenfions, 
 the  fironger  mud  be  the  affedlion. 
 
 To  mix  and  confound  together  all  the  motions  of  the 
 mind,  and  to  range  them  all  indifcriminately  under  one 
 head,  is  reducing  the  whole  philofophy  of  Human  Na- 
 ture to  a  mere  jumble.  Hunger  or  third,  for  example, 
 are  no  more  to  be  confidered  under  the  head  of  felf- 
 love,  than  anatomy  under  that  of  aftronomy.  The  pure 
 difmtereded  love  of  virtue  is  no  more  to  be  called  a 
 fadlitious  or  arbitrary  inclination,  as  the  mutual  defires 
 of  the  fexes  undoubtedly  is,  than  gravitation  is  to  be 
 called  folidity  or  cxtcnfion.  The  bodily  appetites,  im- 
 properly fo  called,  are  plainly  fi\6litious  and  temporary: 
 lor  we  can  conceive  of  a  living,  confcious,  rational  be- 
 ing, who  has  not  fo  much  as  an  idea  of  them  ;  nay,  the 
 time  will  come,  when  they  will  be  wholly  forgot  by  at 
 Jtsiiijome  of  our  own  fpecies.  But  is  it  poffible  to  con- 
 ceive of  a  living,  confcious,  rational  being,  who,  if  left 
 to  itfelf  free  and  uncorrupted,  fiiould  be  able  to  avoid 
 loving  virtue,  or  could  be  indifferent  to  goodnefs,  as 
 foon  as  it  became  an  objecL  of  its  perception  ?  Again^ 
 the  fitnefs  between  the  appetite  and  the  objed  is  in  fon^e 
 2  cafes 
 
OfVr.-iue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  303. 
 
 cafes  evidently  arbitrarv.  Different  fpecies,  therefore, 
 choofe  different  forts  of  fooJ,  which,  without  that  arbi- 
 tary  fitnefs,  would  be  alike  grateful  or  difagreeable  to 
 all  tafles  ;  i'o  that  grafs  and  hay  would  be  as  acceptable 
 to  the  lioQ  and  the  vulture,  as  to  the  horfe  and  the  ox; 
 and  the  flefh  as  agreeable  to  the  horfe  and  the  ox,  as  to 
 the  lion  and  vulture.  On  the  contrary,  in  other  cafes, 
 this  titnefs  is  by  no  means  arbitrary  or  factitious,  but 
 unalterable  and  neceffary.  A  mind,  to  which  appa- 
 rent truth  was  no  obje^l; ;  an  underftanding,  which  law 
 no  beauty  or  delirablenefs  in  undoubted  virtue  and  rec- 
 titude, muff  be  perverted  from  its  natural  flate,  and  de- 
 bauched out  of  itfeif. 
 
 Our  love  to  earthly  objeds  may  eafily  be  carried  to 
 excefs.  For  it  is  evident,  that  a  very  moderate  attach- 
 ment is  fuflicient,  where  the  connedion  is  intended  to 
 hold  only  for  the  prefent  fliort  life.  As  on  the  other 
 hand,  thofe  objects  which  are  intended  to  be  the  final 
 happinefs  of  our  being,  ought  to  be  purfued  with  the 
 utmoft  ardency  of  affeclion.  To  purfue,  with  an  un- 
 bounded deilre,  an  objedl,  whofe  natuie  and  perfedlions 
 are  bounded  within  very  narrow  limits,  is  a  grofs  ab- 
 furdity  ;  as  to  be  cold  and  indifferent  to  that  which  is 
 of  inellimable  worth,  is  contrary  to  found  reafon.  But 
 to  obferve  the  general  conducl  of  mankind,  one  would 
 think  they  confidered  God  and  virtue,  and  eternal  hap- 
 pinefs, as  objedls  of  little  or  no  confequence  ;  and  good 
 eating  and  drinking,  pleafure  and  wealth,  as  alone  worth 
 the  attention  of  reafonabie  beings.  One  would  imagine 
 they  believed  that  the  latter  were  to  be  the  everlatling 
 enjoyment  of  the  rational  mind,  and  the  former  the 
 tranfitory  amufement  of  a  few  years  at  mod.  What  do 
 mankind  purfue  with  the  greateft  eagernefs?  What  are 
 their  hearts  moft  fet  upon  ?  What  does  their  converfa- 
 tion  nioff  run  upon  ?  What  is  their  laft  thought  at 
 night,  and  their  firft  in  the  morning  ?  and  what  em- 
 ploys their  minds  throtsgh  the  whole  day?  I  am  afraid 
 the  objeds,  which  engage  their  fupreme  attention,  are  of 
 no  higher  a  nature  than  how  to  get  money ;  to  raife 
 themfelves,  as  they  very  improperly  call  it,  in  the 
 "ivorld  ;  to  concert  a  party  cf  pkafurej  or  fonie  other 
 
 fcheme 
 
^•4  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IIL 
 
 fcheme  of  as  little  confequence.  Now,  if  the  prefent 
 were  to  be  the  final  flare,  this  turn  of  mind  might  be' 
 proper  enough.  But  that  a  being  formed  for  immor- 
 taiiry  (hould  fet  his  whole  afTcdi-ns  upon  this  mortal 
 lile,  IS  as  if  a  traveller,  going  to  a  diltant  country,  fhould 
 make  abundant  provifion  for  his  voyage,  and  fpend  his 
 whole  fortune  by  the  way,  leaving  nothing  for  his  com- 
 fortable fettlement  when  he  arrives,  where  he  is  to  pafs 
 his  days. 
 
 Suppofe  an  unbodied  fpirit,  of  the  characfter  cf  mod 
 human  minds,  entered  upon  the  future  ftate,  left  to  it- 
 felf,  and  neither  raifed  to  politive  happinefs,  nor  con- 
 demned to  pofitive  puniQiment ;  I  afk,  what  mull  be 
 the  condition  of  fuch  a  being?  What  can  be  more  de- 
 plorable than  the  fituation  of  a  mind,  which  has  lofl  all 
 the  objects  of  its  delight,  and  can  enjoy  nothing  of  what 
 makes  the  happinefs  of  the  ilate  in  which  it  is  placed  ? 
 For,  alas,  there  is  no  eating  and  drinking,  no  (lock-job- 
 bing or  trafficking,  no  enjoyment  of  wine  and  women, 
 no  parliamenteering  in  the  world  of  fpirits  ;  and  in 
 this  world  of  fpirits  we  fhall  all  find  ourfelves  before  many 
 years  be  gone.  What  then  is  our  v/ifdom  ?  Not,  furely, 
 to  fet  our  whole  afiedlions  upon  this  prefent  fleeting 
 ftate;  but  to  habituate  ourfelves  to  think  of  the  eternal 
 exiftence  hereafter  as  the  principal  end  of  our  being, 
 and  what  ought  therefore  to  fill  up  the  greateft  part  of 
 our  attention,  and  to  engage  our  warmell  affedions  and 
 mod  eager  purfuit. 
 
 That  any  being  in  the  univerfe  (hould  eter  bring  it'' 
 felf  to  hate  itfelf,  or  defire  its  ow^n  mifery,  as  milery, 
 is  impoffible.  Though  a  reafonaole  lelf-love,  rightly 
 directed,  is  highly  commendable,  nothing  is  more  caiy 
 or  common,  than  to  err  egregioully  with  refped:  to  felf- 
 love.  Mod  people  love  themfclves  fo  very  much,  and 
 in  a  way  fo  abfurd,  that  they  love  nothing  elfe,  except 
 what  is  clofely  conneded  with  themfelves  ;  and  that 
 they  love  more  for  their  own  fakes  than  any  thing  elfe. 
 That  mind  muft  be  vvonoeifully  narrow  that  is  wholly 
 wrapt  up  in  itfelf.  But  this  is  too  vifibly  the  character 
 of  mod  human  minds.  The  true  dandard  of  reditudc 
 as  to  felf-love,  is,  That  every  one  love  himfelf  as  God 
 3  may 
 
Cifnrm.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  305 
 
 may  be  fuppofed  to  love  him  ;  that  i?,  as  an  individual 
 among  many.     To  the  Divine  Mind  every  objecft  ap- 
 pears as  it  really  is.     We  ought  therefore  to  endeavour 
 to  fee  things  in  the  light  in  which  they  appear  to  that 
 Eye  which  comprehends  the  univcrfal  fyftcm.     If  we 
 thus  enlarged  our  conceptions,  we  fhould  never  fuffer 
 our  whole  regards  to  be  poffefled  by  any  one  finite  ob- 
 jed  v/hatever,  not  even  by  Telf.     Nor  fliould  we  ever 
 think  of  preferring  ourfelves  unjuftly  to  others,   or  rai- 
 ling ourfeives  upon  their  ruin.     For  that  is  to  aft  as  if 
 a  man  did  not  conlider  himfelf  as  a  part,   and  a  very 
 /mail  part  of  an  immenfe  whole,  but  as  the  only  being 
 in  the  univerfe;  than  which  nothing  can  be  more  mon- 
 ilrous.    If  we  loved  ourfelves  as  our  Maker  loves  us,  we 
 fhould  not  think  of  being  partial  to  our  faults ;   but 
 Ihould  view  them  with  the  fame  eye  as  we  do  thofe  of 
 others.     It  is  a  great  unhappinefs  that  we  cannot  root 
 out  of  our  foolilh  hearts  this  (hameful  weak'nefs.     Does 
 it  at  all  alter  the  real  evil  of  a  bad  action,  that  it  was  I 
 who  did  it?   Will  a  lie  become   a  truth  in  my  mouth  ? 
 Is  not  every  man's  felt'  as  much  felf,  and  as  dear  to  him 
 as  I  am  to  my  felf  ?  And  is  the  immutable  and  eternsl 
 nature  of  right  and  wrong  to  be  changed  by  every  man's 
 fancy?   If  I  fee  injuftice,  falfehood,  or  impiety  in  ano- 
 ther in  the  moil  odious   light,   does  not  a  third  perfon 
 fee  thenf  in  me  in  the  fame  manner  ?  And  does  not  the 
 all-piercing  E3^e  of  Heaven  fee  them,  alike  in  all?  If  I 
 am  Ihocked  at  the  vices  of  another  perfon,  have  I  not 
 a  thoufand  times  miore  reafon  to  be  ftartled  at  my  own  ? 
 Thofe  of  another  can  never  do  me  the  prejudice  which 
 my  own  can  do  me.     The  plague  at  CoTiJlantinopIe  caa 
 never  affed:  me,  as  if  it  attacked  me  in  my  own  perfon. 
 The  love  of  praife.,  or  deiire  of  diilinclion,   is  a  paf- 
 fion  as  necelTary  to  a  thinking  being,  as  that  which 
 prompts  it  to  preferve  its  exiftence.     But  as  this  ten- 
 dency, like  all  the  others  which  enter  into  the  human 
 make,  ought  to  be  fubjecl:  to  the  government  of  reafon, 
 it  is  plain,  that  no  approbation,  but  that  of  the  wife 
 and  good,  is  of  any  real  value,  or  deferves  the  lead  re- 
 gard.    The  advantage  gained  by  the  exertion  of  this 
 liniverfal  propenfity,  is,  that  men  may  be  thereby  ex- 
 
 ^  ci1;eci 
 
2c6  THE  DIGNITY  OF  {Book  IIL 
 
 cited  to  fuch  a  courfe  of  action,  as  will  deferre  the  ap- 
 probation of  the  wife  and  good.  But  the  love  of  undi- 
 ftinguiftiing  applaufe  v^ill  never  produce  this  effed:. 
 Tor  the  unthinking  multitude  generally  give  their  praife 
 where  it  is  leaft  due,  and  overlook  real  merit.  One 
 Charles  ofSiveden,  ot  Lewis  of  France,  the  common  furies 
 of  the  world,  fhall  receive  more  huzzas  from  the  mad- 
 ding crowd,  than  ten  j4lfreds,  the  fathers  of  their  coun- 
 try. So  that  the  delire  of  promifcous  praife,  as  it  de- 
 feats the  moral  defign  of  the  paffion,  is  altogether  im- 
 proper and  mifchievous,  inftead  of  being  ufeful.  The 
 rule  for  the  condu<fl  of  this  paffion,  is^  To  acl  fuch  a 
 part  as  fliall  deferve  praife;  but  in-  our  conduct  to  have 
 as  little  regard  as  polTible  to  praife.  A  good  man  will 
 dare  to  be  meanly,  or  ill  thought  of  in  doing  well; 
 but  he  will  not  venture  to  do  ill  in  ordered  to  be  com- 
 mended* 
 
 The  paffion,  or  emotion,  which  we  call  anger,  ferves 
 the  fame  purpofe  as  the  natural  weapons  with  which 
 the  animal  creation  is  furniflied,  as  teeth,  horns,  hoofs, 
 and  claws;  I  mean  for  our  defence  againfl  attacks  and 
 infults.  Cool  reafon  alone  would  not  have  fufficiently 
 animated  us  in  our  owm  defence,  to  fecure  us  in  the 
 quiet  pofleffion  of  our  natural  rights,  ^ny  more  than  it 
 would  alone  have  fuggefted  to  us  the  due  care  and  nou- 
 rifliment  of  our  bodies.  To  fupply,  therefore,  the  defi- 
 ciences  of  reafon  in  our  prefent  imperfecT;  date,  paffion 
 and  appetite  come  iii,  and  are  neceffary  to  the  human 
 compolition.  And  it  would  have  been  as  much  to  the 
 purpofe,  that  the  ancient  Stoics  fhould  have  direded 
 their  difciples  to  eradicate  hunger  and  thirft,  as  anger, 
 grief,  lot^e,  and  the  other  natural  paffions.  It  is  indeed 
 too  true,  that  m  our  prefent  imperfedl  ftate  we  are  in 
 much  greater  danger  of  yielding  too  much  to  our  paf- 
 fions, than  of  fubduing  them  too  thoroughly;  and  there- 
 fore we  find  all  wife  tc*achers,  and  particularly  the  beft 
 of  teachers,  who  came  from  heaven  to  inftmcl  us,  la- 
 bouring to  inculcate  upon  mankind  the  conqueft  of  paf- 
 fion and  appetite,  without  fetting  any  bounds  to  the 
 length  they  would  have  the  conqueft  carried ;  as  know« 
 ing,  that  there  is  no  need  to  caution  men  againft  an  ex- 
 cels 
 
Of  virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  367 
 
 cefs  on  this  fafeft  fide.  And,  with  refped  to  the  paf- 
 fion  we  are  now  treating  of,  if  a  peifon  does  not  ftiew 
 himfelf  wholly  incapable  of  being  moved,  if  he  does  not 
 directly  invite  injuries  and  aHauits,  by  bearing  without 
 all  meafure  ;  if  he  does  but  from  time  to  time  (hew 
 that  he  has  in  him  too  much  fpirit  to  fuller  himfelf 
 to  be  trampled  upon  ;  I  am  clearly  of  opinion,  that 
 he  cannot  exert  this  paffion  too  feldom,  or  too  mode- 
 rately. 
 
 If  we  take  the  fame  rrvethod  for  coming  at  the  true 
 ftate  of  things  in  this,  as  in  other  cafes,  viz.  endeavour- 
 ing, as  before  direcfled,  to  get  that  view^  of  them  which 
 appears  before  the  all-comprehenfive  eye  of  God,  we 
 fhall  then  fee  how  abfurd  the  exceffive  indulgence  of 
 this  lawlefs  pafdon  is.  To  the  Supreme  Mind  we  ap- 
 pear a  fet  of  infirm,  fhort-fighted,  helplefs  beings,  en- 
 gaged to  one  another  by  nature,  and  the  necefiity  of 
 our  affairs ;  incapable  of  greatly  prejudicing  one  ano- 
 ther ;  all  very  nearly  upon  a  footing  ;  all  guilty  before 
 him  ;  all  alike  under  his  government,  and  all  to  {land 
 hereafter  before  the  fame  judgment-feat.  How  ridicu- 
 lous mull  then  our  fatal  quarrels,  our  important  points 
 of  honour,  our  high  indignation,  and  our  mighty  re- 
 fentraents  appear  before  him  ?  Infinitely  more  con- 
 temptible than  the  contentions  between  the  frogs  and 
 mice  do  to  us  in  the  ludicrous  ancient  poem  afcribed 
 to  Homer. 
 
 But  this  is  not  all.  Let  it  be  confidered  alfo  how  the 
 impiety  of  our  hatred  and  refentment,  mull  appear  be- 
 fore that  Eye,  which  fees  all  things  as  they  are.  That 
 the  Supreme  Governor  of  the  world  fliould  choofe  to 
 vindicate  to  himfelf  the  privilege  of  fearching  the  hearts, 
 and  of  knowing  the  real  characlers  of  all  his  creatures, 
 is  no  more  than  might  be  expeded.  Whoever  there- 
 fore prefumes  to  pronounce  upon  the  charader  or  fi;ate 
 of  any  of  his  fellow-creatures  before  God,  affumes  the 
 incommunicable  privilege  of  Divinity.  Now,  every 
 man  who  hates  his  fellow-creature,  mufl:  firfi;  conclude 
 him  to  be  wicked  and  hateful  in  the  fight  of  God,  or 
 he  muithate  him  whomGod  loves;  which  is  fuch  a  piece 
 of  audacious  oppofition  to  the  Divine  Mind,  as  hardly 
 
 X  2  any 
 
368  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  III. 
 
 any  man  will  confefs  himfelf  capable  of.  Again,  for 
 a  private  perfon  to  take  upon  him  to  avenge  an  injury, 
 (ill  any  way  beiides  having  recourfe  to  lawful  authority 
 which  is  founded  in  the  Divine)  what  is  it  lefs  than  af- 
 fuiuing  the  authority  of  God  himfelf,  whofe  privilege  it  is 
 to  decide  tinally,  either  immediately,  or  by  thofe  whom 
 he  has  authorifed  for  that  purpofe  ? 
 
 Farther,  let  the  effects  of  this  unruly  paffion,  carried 
 to  its  utmoft  length,  and  indulged  univerfally,  be  con- 
 iidered,  that  we  may  judge  whether  it  be  mod  for  the 
 good  of  the  whole,  that  vve  conquer,  or  give  way  to  it. 
 Experience  fliews,  that  every  paillDU  and  appetite  in- 
 dulged, would  proceed  to  greater  and  greater  lengths 
 without  end.  Suppofe  then  every  man  to  lay  the  reins 
 upon  the  neck  of  his  fury,  and  give  himfelf  up  to  be 
 driven  by  it  without  controul  into  all  manner  of  mad« 
 nefs  and  extravagance  :  The  obvious  confequence  mull 
 be  the  deftruclion  of  the  weaker  by  the  Wronger,  till  the 
 world  became  a  defert. 
 
 Whatever  is  right  for  one  man  to  pra6life,  is  equally 
 right  for  all,  unlefs  circumflances  make  a  difference.  If 
 it  be  proper  that  one  man  indulge  anger  without  a  caufe, 
 no  circumflances  can  make  it  improper  that  all  do  fo. 
 If  it  be  proper  that  one  man  fuffer  his  paffion  to  hurry 
 him  on  to  abufe,  or  deflroy  an  innocent  perfon,  it  is  pro- 
 per that  all  do  fo,  and  that  the  world  be  made  one  vaft 
 fcene  of  blood  and  defolation. 
 
 People  ought  to  be  very  careful  in  the  younger  part 
 of  life,  not  to  give  way  to  pafFion :  for  all  habits 
 flrengthen  with  years.  And  he,  who  in  youth  in- 
 dulges an  angry  and  fretful  temper,  by  the  time  he 
 comes  into  years,  is  likely  to  be  unfufferable  by  his 
 peevifhnefs ;  which,  though  not  fo  flital  and  terrible 
 as  a  furious  temper,  is  more  frequently  troublefome, 
 and  renders  the  perfon  who  gives  way  to  it  more  tho- 
 roughly contemptible.  The  excefEve  ftrength  of  all 
 our  paffions  is  owing  to  our  neglecl:  to  curb  them  in  time, 
 before  they  become  unconquerable. 
 
 When  therefore  you  feel  paiTion  rifing,  inflead  of 
 giving  it  vent  in  outrageous  exprefTions,  which  will  in- 
 ilame  both  your  own,  and  that  of  the  perfon  you  are 
 
 angry 
 
&f  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  309 
 
 angry  with,  accuftom  yourfelf  to  call  reflexion  to  your 
 affiftance.  Say  to  yourfelf,  vVhat  is  there,  ii^'this  affair 
 of  fufficient  confequence  to  provoke  me  to  expofe  my- 
 felf  ?  Had  I  not  better  drop  the  quarrel,  if  the  offence 
 were  much  more  atrocious,  than  be  guilty  of  folly  ?  If 
 I  have  loft  money,  or  honour,  bv  this  injurious  pcrfon, 
 mull  1  lofe  by  him  my  wits  too:  How  would  a  Socrates, 
 or  a  Pbocia?i,  have  behaved  o;i  fuch  an  occalion  ?  How 
 did  a  greater  than  either  behave  on  an  occafion  of  in- 
 comparably greater  provocation,  v/hllc  he  had  it  in  his 
 power  to  have  llruck  his  enemies  dead  with  a  word  ? 
 True  greatnefs  appears  in  retraining,  not  giving  a  loofe 
 to  paffion. 
 
 Make  a  refolution  for  one  day  not  to  be  put  out  of 
 temper  upon  any  account.  If  you  can  keep  it  one  day, 
 you  may  two  ;  and  fo  on.  To  keep  you  in  mind  of 
 your  refolution,  you  may  wear  a  ring  upon  a  particular 
 finger,  or  ufe  any  other  fuch  contrivance.  You  may  ac- 
 cuftom yourfelf  never  to  fay  any  thing  peevifli,  v/ithout 
 thinking  it  over  as  long  as  you  could  count  iix  delibe- 
 rately. After  you  have  habituated  yourfelf  for  fome 
 time  to  this  pra6lice,  you  will  find  it  as  unnatural  to 
 blunder  out  rafli  fpeeches,  as  you  do  now  to  deliberate 
 before  you  fpeak. 
 
 Envy  and  rnalice  are  rather  comiptions  of  natural 
 paflions,  than  the  natural  growth  of  the  human  heart. 
 For  the  very  leaft  degree  of,  them  is  wicked  and  unna- 
 tural as  well  as  the  greateft.  Emulation,  out  of  which 
 arifes  envy,  is  one  of  the  noblell  exertions  of  a  rational 
 mind.  To  afpire  to  equal  whatever  is  sruly  great  in  a 
 fellow-creature,  what  can  fliew  more  confpicuoufly  true 
 greatnefs  of  mind?  What  worthy  mind  was  ever  with- 
 out this  difpofition  ?  But  to  look  with  an  evil  eye  upon, 
 or  to  hate  that  excellence  in  another,  which  we  cannot, 
 or  will  not  emulate,  is  the  very  difpofition  of  an  evil 
 fpirit :  for  it  is  hating  a  perfon  for  the  very  thing 
 which  ought  to  ekcite  love  and  admiration. 
 
 Some  of  the  other  exceffts  Vv'e  are  apt  to  run  into  in 
 indulging  our  pafiions  have  to  plead  for  themlelves, 
 that  the  exertion  of  thofe  paflions  is  attended  with  a 
 fenfible  pleafare.     But  anger,  hatred,  malice,  envy,,  re- 
 
 X  2  venge^ 
 
510  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  III. 
 
 venge,  and  all  the  irafcible  paffions,  the  more  ftrongly 
 they  operate,  the  greater  torment  they  produce.  And 
 it  muft  be  an  extraordinary  degree  ot"  virulence  m  a 
 mind,  that  makes  it  choofe  to  torture  itfeif  for  the  fake 
 of  exerting  its  fpite  againit  another.  Which  fpite  alio, 
 through  the  goodneis  of  an  over-ruling  Providence,  in- 
 Itead  of  hurting  the  peribn  attacked,  moft  commonly  re- 
 coils in  vengeance  upon  him  who  has  indulged  in  him- 
 felf  fo  devilifh  a  temper. 
 
 The  natural  inclination  we  have  to  fympathjfe  with 
 our  fellow-creatures,  to  make  their  cafe  our  own,  and 
 to  fuffer  a  fenhble  pain  when  we  think  of  their  mifery 
 or  misfortune,  was  placed  in  us  to  draw  us  more  effec- 
 tually, than  reafon  alone  would,  to  endeavour  to  re- 
 lieve them.  It  is  therefore  evident,  that  this  motion  of 
 the  mind  ought  to  be  encouraged  and  ftrengthened  in 
 us,  becaufe  we  cannot  be  too  much  attached  to  our  fel- 
 lovv-creatures,  at  the  fame  time  that  we  ought  to  adt 
 chiefly  upon  rational  motives  in  endeavouring  to  relieve 
 the  diftrefles  of  our  brethren  of  mankind. 
 
 Fear  is  a  natural  pillion  of  the  mind,  and  ought  no 
 more  to  be  eradicated  than  any  of  the  others.  A  rea- 
 fonable  caution  againft,  and  defire  of  avoiding  what- 
 ever would  prove  in  any  degree  hurtful,  is  the  prudent 
 motion  of  every  rational  created  mind.  The  condudl 
 of  this  paffion  confifts  in  direding  our  fear,  or  caution, 
 to  proper  objeds.  To  fear  poverty,  or  pain,  or  death, 
 more  than  guilt;  to  dread  the  mifery  of  an  hour,  or  of 
 u  life,  more  than  future  puniQiment  for  ages,  is  fearing 
 a  leifer  evil  more  than  a  greater,  choofing  an  extreme 
 degree  of  mifery  for  the  fake  of  avoiding  an  inconfider- 
 able  one. 
 
 Though  a  daftardly  fpirit  is,  generally  fpeaking,  a 
 proof  of  bafenefs  of  mind,  it  does  not  therefore  follow, 
 that  to  dare  to  attempt  any  thing,  however  unreafon- 
 able  or  unjuft,  is  true  fortitude,  A  bully,  a  drunkard, 
 or  a  lunatic,  will  attack  what  a  wife  man  will  avoid  en- 
 countering with.  For  the  natural  or  adventitious  viva- 
 city of  temper  in  fuch  perfons,  which  is  owing  to  bo- 
 dily conftitution,  or  intoxication  by  liquor,  or  to  a  pre- 
 ternatural flow  of  fpirits  hurrying  them  on,  and  reafon 
 
OfViriue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  311 
 
 being  in  them  very  weak,  or  altogether  infufficient  for 
 reftraining  their  impetuofity,  it  is  no  wonder  if  they  run 
 into  the  moft  extravagant  and  dangerous  adventures, 
 nor  if  they  fometimes  carry  all  before  them.  For  the 
 very  notion  that  a  perfon,  or  body  of  men,  are  refoliite 
 to  a  defperate  degree,  renders  them  much  more  formid- 
 able to  people  who  have  not,  or  perhaps  cannot,  work 
 themfelves  up  to  the  fame  pitch.  True  courage  is  cool 
 and  deliberate,  founded  in  a  ftrong  attachment  to  ju- 
 ilice,  truth,  love  of  one's  country,  and  of  true  glory  ; 
 and  is  regulated  and  reftrained  by  wifdom  and  good- 
 nefs.  True  fortitude  appears  infinitely  more  glorious 
 in  the  faithful  martyr,  wiio,  unfubdued  by  want  and 
 imprifonment,  goes  on  v/;thout  fear,  but  without  pride, 
 friendlefs  and  alone,  and  in  the  midft  of  the  infulting 
 crowd  gives  up  his  body  to  the  devouring  flames  in  ho- 
 nour of  God  and  his  truth,  than  in  the  bluftering  com- 
 mander at  the  head  of  his  thoufands,  who  marches  to 
 battle,  and,  in  confidence  of  the  might  of  his  army,  al- 
 ready affures  himfelf  of  victory  ;  and  yet  the  latter  is 
 immortalized  by  the  venal  ftrain  of  flattery,  while  the 
 former  is  paifed  over  in  filence. 
 
 The  lofs  of  fome  good  which  we  have  either  enjoyed 
 or  had  reafonable  hopes  of  attaining,  or  the  arrival  of 
 fome  politive  evil,  is  a  reafonable  fubjedl  of  reafonable 
 grief;  and  the  concern  of  mind  ought  to  be  propor- 
 tioned to  the  greatnefs  of  the  lofs,  or  the  feverity  of  the 
 calamity  which  is  come  upon  us.  As  for  the  allTidions 
 of  this  prefent  life,  fuch  as  the  lofs  of  ri.che§,  of  health, 
 of  the  favour  of  the  great,  of  the  good  opinion  of  our 
 fellow-creatures,  of  friends  or  relations^  by  removal  to 
 diflant  places,  or  by  death ;  thefe,  and  the  like,  being 
 ait  temporary,  we  Ihew  our  wifdom  mol^  by  bearing 
 them  with  patience,  or  even  moft  of  them  with  indif- 
 ference, in  conhderation  of  the  profpecT;  we  have,  if  we 
 be  virtuous,  of  having  all  fuch  lolfes  made  up  to  us 
 hereafter ;  of  being  hereafter  polTefled  of  the  true  and 
 unfading  riches  •,  of  having  the  integrity  of  our  charac- 
 ters cleared  before  men  and  angels;  of  being  reftored 
 to  our  valuable  friends  and  relations,  and  united  to 
 ihem  in  a  better  and  happier  flate,   where  they  and 
 
 X  4  we 
 
3.12  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Bdok  IIL 
 
 we  fliall  be  fitter  for  true  and  exalted  friendfliip,  and 
 ■where  we  fliall  no  more  fear  a  cruel  feparation. 
 
 There  is  but  one  juft  fubjed:  of  great  or  lading  grief 
 that  1  know  of;  it  is  the  confideration  of  our  guilt  be- 
 fore God.  That  we  ourfelves,  or  others,  fliould  ever 
 have  offended  the  kindeft  and  bell  of  beings,  whom  we 
 were,  by  all  the  ties  of  Nature  and  Reafon,  obliged  to 
 love,  to  obey,  and  to  adore  ;  this  is  a  grief  that  will  lie 
 heavy  upon  every  confiderate  mind  :  And  till  that  hap- 
 py day  comes,  when  all  tears  are  to  be  wiped  away, 
 and  all  griefs  buried  in  oblivion,  the  thought  of  our. 
 own  guilt,  and  that  of  our  unhappy  unthinking  fellow- 
 creatures,  ought  not  for  any  long  time  to  be  out  of  our 
 vicv/.  Nor  is  there  any  degree  of  concern  (inferior  to 
 what  might  difqualify  us  for  the  performance  of  the  du- 
 ties of  life)  too  great  for  the  occafion.  Nor  can  any 
 thing  be  imagined  more  abfurd,  than  for  a  reafoning 
 being  to  exprefs  more  uneafinefs  about  a  trifling  lofs  or 
 affliction,  which,  like  all  temporal  dilireffes,  will,  after 
 a  few  years  be  to  us,  as  if  they  had  never  been  ;  at  the 
 fame  time  thqt  the  confideration  of  thofe  offences  againlt 
 theMajefty  of  Heaven,  which  may  have  fatal  efteds  upon 
 their  final  ftate,  raifes  no  uneafinefs  in  their  minds. 
 That  a  thinking  creature  (or  rather  a  creature  capable 
 of  thought)  fliould  fret  for  the  lots  of  a  m^ortal  friend  or 
 relation,  whom  he  always  knew  to  be  be  mortal,  and  be 
 under  no  concern  for  his  having  alienated  from  himfelf, 
 by  his  wickednefs,  the  favour  of  the  moft  powerful,  the 
 mod  faithful,  and  the  kindeff  Friend.  That  a  rational 
 creature  fliould  bitterly  lament  the  loil  patronage  of  a 
 prince,  or  peer,  whofe  favour  he  knevv'  to  be  uncertain 
 and  precarious,  and  give  himfelf  no  trouble  about  his 
 having  forfeited  the  protection  of  Him,  upon  whom  he 
 depends  for  every  moment's  exiftence,  and  every  degree 
 of  happinefs  he  can  enjoy  in  the  prefent  life,  and  thro' 
 all  eternity  !  Surely  fuch  grief  is  indulged  with  great 
 impropriety? 
 
 While  we  live  in  the  body,  it  is  plainly  neceffary, 
 that  we  beftow  a  reafonable  attention  upon  the  body, 
 for  providing  whatever  may  be  ufeful  for  its  heahh  and 
 fuppo;t.     To  thir;k  of  eradicating,   or  defiroying  the 
 
 appetites^ 
 
pf  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  .      313 
 
 appetites,  would  be  making  fure  of  the  deflruclion  of 
 tiie  body.  Tiie  point  we  ought  to  have  in  view  is, 
 therefore,  to  conduct  and  regulate  them  fo,  as  beil  to 
 anfwer  the  "\yife  ends,  for  which  they  were  planted  ia 
 our  nature. 
 
 That  every  living  creature  Ihould  have  in  its  make  a 
 ilrong  defire  to  preferve  life,  was  neceflary.  But  in 
 rational  minds  all  natural  initinds  are  to  be  under  the 
 controul  of  reaibn  ;  the  laperior  faculty  to  govern  the 
 inferior.  It  is  evident,  that  there  may  be  many  cafes, 
 in  which  rectitude  and  piopriety  may  require  us  to  get 
 over  the  inllinclive  love  of  Jife,  as  well  as  to  conquer 
 the  influence  of  the  other  natural  paffions.  Whoever 
 loves  life  more  than  virtue,  religion,  or  his  country,  is 
 guilty  of  a  grofs  abfurdity  in  preferring  that,  which  is 
 of  lefs  confequence,  to  that  which  is  of  greater.  We 
 are  always  to  endeavour,  as  before  obferved,  to  view 
 things  in  the  light,  they  may  be  fuppofed  to  appear  into 
 the  All-comprehenfive  Mind.  But  I  cannot  bring  my- 
 felf  to  believe,  that  my  life  appears  to  the  Supreme  Mind 
 qf  fach  importance,  that  it  ought  to  be  preferved  to  the 
 prejudice  of  facred  and  eternal  truth  ;  that  it  is  better, 
 the  people  Ihould  perilli  for  one  man,  than  one  man  for 
 the  people. 
 
 If  the  heroes  and  fages  among  the  Heathens,  who 
 had  no  fuch  fure  profpedl  of  a  future  exiftence  as  we 
 have,  or  may  have;  it  they,  whofe  views  of  a  life  to 
 come,  were  rather  Ilrong  deiires,  than  well  eftabliflied 
 hopes ;  if  they  fhewed  fuch  a  contempt  of  the  prefent 
 life,  as  to  give  it  up  with  joy  and  triumph  for  the  fer- 
 vice  of  their  country,  and  for  the  fake  of  truth  ;  of 
 which  hiiiory  furnlQies  inftances  almoft  innumerable  ; 
 it  were  to  be  expeded,  that  we  Ihould,  in  the  contempt 
 of  life,  greatly  exceed  them  ;  which,  to  our  fliame,  is 
 far  from  being  the  cafe. 
 
 A  competency  of  the  good  thingsoflife  being  neceflary 
 for  the  fupport  of  life,  it  is  evident,  that  a  reafonable 
 degree  of  care,  induftry,  and  frugality,  is  altogether  pro- 
 per ;  of  which  I  have  treated  pretty  copioufly  in  the 
 iwik.  part  of  this  work.  Whenever  this  care  for  the  con- 
 veniences of  life  proceeds  fuch  a  length,  as  to  produce 
 
 a  love 
 
314  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  III. 
 
 a  love  of  riches  for  their  own  fake,  it  is  then,  that  a  man 
 iliews  himfelf  bewildered  and  loft  to  all  rational  and  ju- 
 dicious views,  and  enchanted  with  a  mere  imaginary 
 objed:  of  no  real  value  in  itfel£.  That  a  man  ihould 
 bellow  his  whole  labour  in  heaping  up  pieces  of  metal, 
 or  paper,  and  fhould  make  his  very  being  wretched,  be- 
 caufe  he  cannot  get  together  the  quantity  he  aims  at^ 
 which  he  does  not  need,  nor  would  ufe,  if  he  had  them 
 in  his  polTeffion  ;  is  much  the  fame  wifdom,  S5  if  he 
 fpent  his  life  in  filling  his  magazines  with  cockle-fliclls, 
 or  pebbles.  If  it  be  likewife  remembered,  that  every 
 paflion  indulged,  becomes  in  time  an  unconquerable 
 habit,  and  that  a  hxed  love  of  fordid  riches  is  altogether 
 unfuitable  to  the  fpiritual  immortal  ftate,  for  which  we 
 were  intended,  where  gold  and  filver  will  be  of  no 
 value  ;  if  it  be  conlidered,  that  a  great  degree  of  avarice 
 is  wholly  incondent  with  every  generous  fentiraent,  and 
 even  with  common  honefty  ;  and  that  any  conftant  pur- 
 fuit  whatever,  which  engages  the  whole  attention,  and 
 takes  it  off  from  thofe  fublime  views  of  futurity,  and 
 thofe  preparations  for  immortality,  vyhich  are  abfoluteiy 
 necelTary  toward  our  being  found  fit  for  that  final  ftate, 
 is  highly  criminal ;  if  thele,  and  various  other  confider- 
 ations  be  allowed  their  due  weight,  it  will  appear,  that 
 covetoufnefs  is  a  vice  altogether  unfuitable  to  the  dig- 
 nity of  our  nature,  and  that  the  fafe  fide  to  err  on,  with 
 regard  to  riches,  is,  To  be  too  indifferent,  rather  thau 
 too  anxious  about  them. 
 
 If  the  fole  defign  of  the  appetite  of  hunger  be,  To 
 oblige  us  mechanically,  by  means  of  pain,  to  take  that 
 due  care  of  fupporting  the  body  by  proper  nourifhment, 
 which  we  could  not  have  been  fo  agreeably,  and  effec- 
 tually brought  to,  by  pure  reafon ;  it  is  obvious,  that  the 
 view  we  ought  to  have  in  eating,  is  the  fupport  of  life. 
 That  kind  of  food,  which  is  fitteft  for  nouriftiing  the 
 body,  and  the  leaft  likely  to  breed  difeafes,  is  evidently 
 the  beft.  And  if  artificial  difties,  unnatural  mixtures, 
 and  high  fauces,  be  the  leaft  proper  for  being  afiimi- 
 iated  into  chyle  and  blood,  and  the  moft  likely  to  pro- 
 duce humours  unfriendly  to  the  conftitution  ;  what  is 
 rommonly  called  rich  feeding  is,  in  truth,  flow  poilbn. 
 
 It 
 
Ofrirtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  31; 
 
 It  is  therefore  very  ft  range,  that  men  fliould  have  io 
 little  command  of  themlelves,  that,  for  the  fake  of  the 
 trifling  pleafure  of  having  their  palates  tickled  'vith  a 
 favoury  tafte,  they  fhouid  venture  the  fhortening  of  their 
 days.  Kt  the  fame  time,  that  the  enormous  expcnce 
 of  a  rich  table  might  be  fpared,  and  the  fame,  or  rather 
 indeed  a  much  higher  pleafure,  in  eating,  might  be  en- 
 joyed, if  people  would  but  give  themfelves  time  andex- 
 ercife  to  acquire  a  hearty  appetite.  But  I  really  believe 
 that  is  what  fome  have  never  experienced,  and  confe- 
 qu-mtly  have  no  coix^cption  of. 
 
 The  vices  we  are  in  danger  of  running  into,  by  which 
 our  table  may  become  a  fnare  to  us,  are,  bellowing  too 
 great  expence,  or  too  much  time  at  our  meals,  over-gorg- 
 ing nature,  or  hurting  our  health  by  a  wrong  choice  of 
 food.  Nothing  feems  more  evident,  than  that  tovvafte 
 or  fquander  away  the  good  gifts  of  Providence,  efpeciaily 
 in  fo  fordid  a  manner,  as  upon  the  materials  of  gluttony, 
 is  altogether  unjuftifiable.  The  only  rational  notion 
 we  can  form  of  the  defign  of  Providence  in  bellowing 
 riches  upon  fome,  and  linking  others  in  poverty,  is. 
 That  men  are  placed  in  thofe  different  circumilances 
 with  a  view  to  the  trial  and  exercife  of  different  vir- 
 tues. So  that  riches  are  to  be  conlidered  as  a  fteward- 
 fhip,  not  to  be  lavifhed  away  in  pampering  our  vice?, 
 and  fupporting  our  vanity,  but  to  be  laid  out  in  fuch  a 
 manner  as  we  Ihall  hereafter  be  able  to  anfwer  for,  to 
 Him,  who  entruiied  us  with  them.  And  whoever  be- 
 flovvs  yearly  in  gorging  and  gluttony,  what  might  fuj)- 
 port  a  great  many  families  in  induitry  and  frugality, 
 let  him  fee  to  the  confequences. 
 
 Again,  if  we  be  really  fpirits,  though  at  prefent  em- 
 bodied ;  it  feems  pretty  plain,  that  the  feeding  of  the 
 body  ought  not  to  engrofs  any  very  great  proportion  of 
 our  time.  If  indeed  we  look  upon  ourfelves  as  more 
 body  than  fpirit,  we  ought  then  to  beftow  the  princi- 
 pal attention  upon  the  body.  But  this  is  what  i^w  will 
 care  to  own  in  words ;  which  makes  their  declaring  it 
 hy  their  praclice  the  more  abfurd,  and  inconhllent. 
 
 If  it  be  our  duty  to  preferve  our  health  and  life  for 
 iifefulnefs  in  our  ilation,  it  can  never  be  innocent  in  us 
 
 2-  to 
 
3i«  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  II L 
 
 to  pervert  the  very  means  appointed  for  the  fiipport  of 
 the  body,  to  the  deftruftion  of  the  body.  We  are  here 
 upon  duty,  and  are  to  keep  upon  our  poft,  till  called  off. 
 And  he  who  trifles  with  life,  and  lofes  it  upon  any  fri- 
 volous occafion,  muft  anfvver  for  it  hereafter  to  the  Au- 
 thor of  Life. 
 
 Laftly,  if  it  be  certain,  that  in  the  future  world  of 
 fpirits,  to  v/hich  we  are  all  haftening,  there  will  be  no 
 occafion  for  this  appetite,  nor  any  gratifying  of  appetites 
 at  all,  nothing  is  more  evident,  than  the  abfurdity  of 
 indulging  it  in  fuch  an  unbounded  and  licentious  man- 
 ner, as  to  give  it  an  abfolute  aicendant  over  us,  and  to 
 work  it  into  the  very  mindj  fo  as  it  fhall  remain,  when 
 the  body,  for  whofe  fake  it  was  given,  has  no  farther 
 occaiion  for  it.  The  defign  our  Maker  had  in  placing 
 us  in  this  (late  of  difcipline,  was  to  give  us  an  oppor- 
 tunity of  cultivating  in  ourfelves  other  forts  of  habits 
 than  thofe  of  gluttony  and  fenfuality. 
 
 Of  the  many  fatal  contrivances,  which  our  fpecies, 
 too  fertile  in  invention,  have  hit  upon  for  corrupting 
 themfelves,  defacing  the  bleiTcd  Maker's  image  upon  the 
 mind,  and  perverting  the  end  of  their  creation  ;  none 
 would  appear  more  unaecountable,if  we  were  not  too  well 
 accurtomed  to  fee  inftances  of  it,  than  the  favage  vice 
 of  drunkennefs.  That  ever  it  fiiould  become  a  prac- 
 tice for  rational  beings  to  delight  in  overturning  their 
 reafon ;  that  ever  men  fhould  voluntarily  choofe,  by 
 fvvallowing  a  magical  draught,  to  brutify  themfelves ; 
 nay,  to  fink  themfelves  below  the  level  of  the  brutes ; 
 for  drunkennefs  is  peculiar  to  our  fpecies  ;  this  madnefs 
 niuit  appear  to  other  orders  of  being,  wonderfully  fliock- 
 ing.  No  man  can  bear  the  leaft  refleclion  upon  his 
 underftanding,  whatever  he  will  upon  his  virtue.  Yet 
 men  will  indulge  a  practice,  by  which  experience  con- 
 vinces them,  they  will  effedually  lofe  their  underOand- 
 ing,  and  become  perfed:  idiots.  Unthinking  people  are 
 wont  to  look  with  great  contempt  upon  natural  fools. 
 Eut  in  what  light  ought  they  to  view  a  fool  of  his  own 
 making?  What  can  be  conceived  more  unfuitable  to  the 
 Dignity  of  Human  Nature,  than  the  drunkard,  with 
 his  eyes  Itaring,  his  tongue  ftammering,  his  lips  quiver- 
 s' ii^€> 
 
OfVhiu.'.)  HUMx\N  NATURE.  y,-} 
 
 ing,  his  hands  trembling,  his  legs  tottering,  and  his 
 ftomach  heaving.  Decency  Mdll  not  fuffer  me  to  pro,« 
 ceed  in  fo  filthy  a  defcription.  The  fwine,  wallowing 
 in  the  mire  is  not  ib  loathfome  an  objecl  as  the  drunk- 
 ard ;  for  nature  in  her  meaneft  drefs  is  al\vays  nature : 
 but  the  drunkard  is  a  monfter,  out  of  nature.  The  only 
 rational  being  upon  earth  reduced  to  abfolute  incapa- 
 city of  reafon,  orfpeech  I  A  being  formed  for  immortality 
 funk  into  filth  and  fenfuality  !  A  creature  endowed 
 with  capacities  for  being  a  companion  of  angels,  and 
 inhabiting  the  etherial  regions,  in  a  condition  not  fit 
 to  come  into  a  clean  room,  among  his  fellow -creatures! 
 The  lord  of  this  world  funk  below  the  vileft  of  the 
 brute*  I 
 
 One  would  think  all  this  was  bad  enough  :  but  there 
 is  much  worfe  to  be  faid  againfc  this  molt  abominable 
 and  fatal  vice.  For  there  is  no  other  that  fo  effedually 
 and  fo  fuddenly  unhinges  and  overturns  all  virtues,  and 
 deftroys  every  thing  valuable  in  the  mind,  as  drunken- 
 nefs.  For  it  takes  off  every  retiraint,  and  opens  the 
 mind  to  every  temptation.  So  that  theire  is  no  fuch 
 expeditious  way  for  a  perfon  to  corrupt  and  debauch 
 himfeifj  to  turn  himfelf  from  a  man  info  a  demon,  as 
 by  intoxicating  himfelf  with  ftrong  liquor.  Nor  is 
 there,  perhaps,  any  other  habit  fo  bewitching,  and  which 
 becomes  fo  ibon  unconquerable  as  drunkennefs.  The  rea- 
 fon is  plain.  There  is  no  vice  which  fo  effectually  def- 
 troys reafon.  And  when  the  faculties  of  the  mind 
 are  overturned,  what  means  can  the  unhappy  perfon 
 ufe,  or  what  courfe  can  another  take  with  him,  to  fet 
 him  right  ?  to  attempt  to  reform  a  confirmed  drunkard, 
 is  much  the  fame  as  preaching  to  a  madman,  or  idiot. 
 Reafon,  the  helm  of  the  mind,  once  deftroyed,  there  is 
 nothing  remaining  wherewith  to  fleer  it.  It  muft  then 
 be  left  to  run  adrift. 
 
 It  is  deplorable  to  think  of  the  miferable  pretences 
 made  ufe  of  to  apologize  for  this  beaflly  vice.  One 
 exufes  himfelf  by  his  being  neceffarily  obliged  to  keep 
 company.  But  it  is  notorious  that  nothing  more  effec- 
 tually difqualifies  a  man  for  company,  than  to  have  his 
 tongue  tied,  and  his  brains  ftupified  with  liquor.     Be- 
 
 fides  J 
 
3t«  THE  DIGNtTX  O'F  (Book  II? 
 
 fides,  no  man  is  obliged  to  do  himfelf  a  mifchief,  to  do 
 another  no  kindnels.  Another  pretends  he  is  drawn 
 by  his  bufinefs  or  way  of  life,  to  taverns  and  places  of 
 entertainment.  But  a  man  muft"  never  have  been  drunks 
 nor  ever  feen  another  drunk,  to  imagine  thatftrong  liquor 
 v.illlielp  him  in  driving  bargains.  On  the  contrary,  every- 
 body knows,  that  one  is  never  fo  likely  to  be  impol'ed  on  as 
 when  he  is  in  liquor.  Nor  is  the  pretence  of  drinking 
 to  drive  away  Care,  to  pafs  the  time,  or  to  cbeer  the 
 fpirits,  more  worthy  of  a  rational  creature.  If,  by  the 
 force  of  ftrong  liquor,  a  man's  cares  may  be  mechani- 
 cally banilhed,  and  his  confcience  lulled  aileep  for  a 
 time  ;  he  can  only  expedl  them  to  break  loofe  upon 
 him  afterwards  with  the  greater  fury.  He  who  artifi- 
 cially raifes  his  fpirits  by  drinking,  will  find  them  fink 
 and  Hag  in  proportion.  And  then  they  muft  be  raifed 
 again  ;  and  fo  on,  till  at  laft  he  has  no  fpirits  to  raife, 
 For  underfianding,  and  fortune,  and  virtue,  and  health, 
 all  fall  before  this  dreadful  deftroyer.  As  for  drinking 
 to  pafs  the  time,  inftead  of  an  excufe,  it  is  an  aggrava- 
 tion. It  is  criminal  enough  to  wafteexpence  and  healthy 
 without  lavifiiing  precious  times  befides. 
 
 Nor  is  the  pretence  of  being  odious  among  one's 
 neighbours,  and  being  looked  upon  as  a  precife  fellow, 
 lor  living  temperately,  any  better  than  the  others„ 
 Alas  I  we  are  not  hereafter  to  fiiand  or  fall  by  the  opi- 
 nion of  our  neighbours.  Befides,  we  ourfelves  in  many 
 cafes  fiiew  a  negledl  of  the  opinion  of  mankind  ;  and  do 
 not  crofs  our  inclinations  to  gain  it.  And  if  in  one  in- 
 ftance,  why  not  in  another  ?  We  may  be  fure  of  the 
 favourable  opinion  of  the  fober  part  of  our  acquaintance 
 by  keeping  on  the  right  fide  ;  the  approbation  of  one 
 of  whom  is  preferable  to  that  of  a  thoufand  drunkards. 
 
 Of  all  kinds  of  intemperance,  the  modern  times  have 
 produced  one  of  the  moft  fatal  and  unheard  of,  which 
 like  a  plague  over-runs  and  lays  wafte  both  town  and 
 country,  iwceping  the  lower  part  of  the  people,  who  in- 
 dulge in  it,  by  thoufands  to  the  grave.  The  unhappy 
 invention  I  mean,  and  which  feeras  by  its  raifchievous 
 efieds  to  claim  Satan  himfelf  for  its  author,  is  the  drink- 
 ing of  fermented  fpiritucus  liquors.     This  is  no  place 
 
 for 
 
OfJ^trttie.)  ftUMAN  NATURE,  3?^ 
 
 for  fetting  forth  the  deltradive  efFecls  of  that  moll 
 fhocking  fpecies  of  debauchery.  That  has  been  the 
 fubjedl  of  a  parliamentary  inquiry.  And  it  is  to  be 
 hoped,  that  the  accounts  laid  before  that  auguft  body, 
 which  were  tragical  enough  to  melt  a  heart  of  rock, 
 will  be  the  caufe  of  producing  an  effectual  remedy  for 
 that  ruinous  national  evil. 
 
 The  beft  human  means  I  know  of,  for  conquering  a 
 habit  of  drinking,  are  to  avoid  temptation,  to  accuftoai 
 one's  felf  by  degrees  to  lelfen  the  quantity,  and  lower 
 the  ftrength  of  the  liquor  by  a  more  and  more  copious 
 dilution  with  water. 
 
 The  natural  delire  of  the  two  fexes  was  placed  in  us 
 for  the  fupport  of  the  fpecies.  It  is  not  therefore  to  be 
 eradicated  ;  but  only  brought  under  proper  regulations, 
 fo  as  the  end  may  the  bell  bcanfwered.  That  the  union 
 of  one  man  and  one  woman  for  life,  was  the  original 
 defign,  is  evident  from  the  near  equality  between  the 
 numbers  of  the  two  fexes.  For  one  man  therefore  to 
 break  loofe  upon  the  other  fex,  and  appropriate  to  him- 
 felf  a  plurality,  is  evidently  againft  the  order  of  nature, 
 and  incontinent  with  the  good  of  fociety,  in  which 
 every  individual  is  to  enjoy  all  his  natural  rights  and 
 privileges,  and  all  monopolies  are  unjuft.  That  the 
 marriage  engagement  ought  to  be  facred  and  indilToluble 
 but  by  death,  is  plain  from  confidering  the  various  bad 
 effects  of  its  being  precarious,  as  alienating  the  affec- 
 tions of  the  two  parties  for  one  another,  and  for  theii* 
 common  children,  and  thereby  defeating  one  main  end 
 of  their  coming  together,  viz.  to  be  mutual  helps  and 
 fupports  to  one  another  under  the  various  dillrefles  of 
 life  ',  encouraging  inconftancy  and  an  endlefs  deiire  of 
 variety  ;  and  expoiing  one  of  the  fexes  to  the  unhappi- 
 nefs  of  a  flavilh  dependence.  That  all  commerce  of 
 the  fexes,  where  a  due  care  is  not  had  for  the  off-fpring, 
 is  vicious,  is  evident  from  confidering,  that  thereby  the 
 very  delign  of  nature  is  fruftrated.  That  invading  the 
 bed  of  our  neighbour  is  highly  injurious,  is  plain,  be- 
 caufe  it  is  a  breach  of  the  molt  folemn  engagements, 
 and  moft  facred  vows,  without  which  there  could  be  no 
 marriage,     That  all  commerce  of  the  fexes,  except  in 
 
 lawful 
 
^2e  THE  DIGNITY  of  (BodHir. 
 
 lawful  marriage,  is  unjuftifiable,  is  certain,  in  that  it 
 tends  to  the  difcouragement  of  that  mofc  v/ife  and 
 excellent  inilitution.  And  that  it  is  the  indifpeiifabie 
 duty  of  every  man  and  woman  to  enter  into  that  ilate; 
 excepting  in  the  cafe  of  unfurmcuntabie  confiitutionai 
 or  prudential  objedions,  is  as  plain,  as  that  it  is  the  duty 
 of  every  man  and  woman  to  eat  and  drink.  For  it  is  as 
 certainly  the  defign  of  Providence,  that  the  fpecies  be 
 kept  up,  as  that  the  life  of  individuals  be  preferved  by 
 jiouriihmcnt.  And  what  is  the  duty  of  one  is  the  duty 
 of  all,   unlefs  in  the  cafe  of  infuperable  obilacles. 
 
 The  indulgence  of  this  appetite  to  excefs  is  as  clearly 
 unjufiifiable  as  that  of  any  other.  The  effeds  of  every 
 undue  fenfual  indulgence  are  finking  and  debafing  the 
 mind,  mifleading  it  from  the  fublime  views,  and  noble 
 purfuits,  for  which  it  was  created,  and  habituating  it  to 
 difobedience  and  mifrule;  which  is  diredly  contrary  to 
 the  intention  of  a  ftate  of  difcipline.  Whoever  gives 
 himfelf  up  to  the  uncontrouled  dominion  of  paffion  or 
 appetite,  fells  himfelf  an  unredeemable  Have  to  the 
 moll  rigorous,  and  moft  defpicable  of  tyrants.  And  it 
 is  only  going  on  farther  and  farther  in  fuch  bafe  indul- 
 gences,-and  at  laft,  no  gratification  whatever  of  the  de- 
 lire  will  be  fufficient.  Yet,  there  is  no  fliate  in  life,  in. 
 which  abftinence  at  times,  from  fenfual  gratifications  of 
 every  kind,  is  not  indifpenfably  neceffary.  Every  rea- 
 der's common  fenfe  will  convince  him  of  the  truth  of 
 this,  and  particularly  with  refpecl  to  the  fubjed  we  are 
 now  upon.  Though  marriage  is  the  natural  way  of 
 gratifying  the  mutual  defires  of  the  fexes,  every  body 
 knows,  that  a  continued  indulgence  is  utterly  incompa- 
 tible with  the  marriage  ftate.  Which  fliews  plainly, 
 that  the  due  regulation  and  refliraint  of  every  paflion 
 and  appetite,  is  the  fcheme  of  nature,  and  that  un- 
 bounded excefs  is  contrary  to  nature.  And  yet,  how 
 flrange  is  it  to  confider  the  poor  and  fupcrficial  fallacies, 
 which  mankind  think  fufficient  to  fatisfy  themfelves 
 ■with,  rather  than  give  up  their  favourite  vices  and  fol- 
 lies ?  What  can  be  more  contemptible  than  the  com- 
 mon plea  for  all  exceffive  and  irregular  indugences, 
 particularly  the  criminal  commerce  of  the  fexes  ^  That 
 
 W9 
 
OfTirtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  3if 
 
 we  are  formed  with  natural  inclinations,  defires,  and 
 powers  ',  and  why  fliould  we  not  act  according  to  the 
 bent  of  our  nature  ? 
 
 To  purftie  the  ends  of  nature,  according  to  the  order 
 of  nature,  is  fo  far  from  being  criminal,  that  it  is  virtue. 
 But  excefs  and  irregularity  are  diredly  contr-ary  to  na- 
 ture's views.  This  is  feen  by  every  man,  in  every  cafe 
 where  pafiion  and  appetite  do  not  blind  him.  We 
 have  a  natural  appetite,  for  example,  to  food.  Hovs/- 
 comes  it  then,  that  we  do  not  as  often  over-gorge  our 
 ftomachs  with  plain  bread  as  wiili  dainties  ?  The  one 
 wou'd  be  as  irregular  and  vicious  as  the  other.  Yet 
 we  iliould  fee  a  ftrange  abfurdity  in  the  former,  while 
 we  can  excufe  ourfelves  in  the  latter.  If  we  are  formed 
 with  a  natural  appetite  for  food,  why  do  we  make  fuch 
 a  difference  in  the  indulgence  of  our  appetite  in  deli- 
 cacies, from  plain  food  ?  The  trutli  is,  that  excefs  of  all 
 kinds  is  indefenlible,  and  unnatural.  11  it  were  natural, 
 we  iliould  be  as  apt  to  eat  too  much  bread,  as  too  mucli 
 pafty.  It  is  the  deplorable  weaknefs  of  our  nature,  that 
 we  yield  to  appetite  and  pailion,  till  the}^  bt^ccme  too 
 powerful  for  us,  and  lead  us  captive  in  fpite  of  ourfelves. 
 While  we  pretend,  we  only  follow  nature,  u-e  are  in- 
 dulging a  faife  and  vitiated  tafte.  And  in  no  indul- 
 gence is  there  more  fliameful  excefs  committed,  nor 
 greater  deviations  from  the  intention  of  nature,  than  iii 
 that  which  is  the  fubjed  of  this  paragraph.  Were  the 
 above  apology  for  excefs  of  any  weight,  that  is,  were 
 it  proper  we  fhould  do  every  thing  we  have  power  or 
 inclination  to,  we  might  by  thef.ime  plea  throw  ourfelves; 
 down  a  precipice,  becaufe  v;e  have  power  to  do  it. 
 The  thief  may  Heal,  becaufe  he  has  a  natural  defire  to 
 eafe  rather  than  labour  ;  the  drunkard  may  drink  liim- 
 felf  to  death,  becaufe  it  is  natural  to  quench  third ;  the 
 paffionate  man  may  kill  his  enemy,  becaufe  he  has  a 
 natural  difpolition  to  repel  injuries ;  in  Oiort,  if  this 
 plea  be  good  for  any  thing,  it  renders  all  excelTes,  which, 
 take  their  firft  rife  from  a  natural  appetite,  innocent. 
 
 Such  an  indulgence  in  fleep,  in  leifure  or  in  action, 
 and  in  relaxations  or  amufem.ents,  as  may  be  neceifary 
 for  the  refreQiment  and  health  cf  thcfe  frail  vehicles 
 
 Y  \i^ 
 
32i  THE  DIGNITY  OF  {Book  IIL 
 
 ^'e  now  inhabit  is  allowable.  And  the  jufl  meafure  of  • 
 fuch  indulgence  is  different  according  to  different  con- 
 ftitutions  and  ways  of  life.  But  it  is  to  be  feared,  that 
 Ijundreds  exceed  the  bounds  of  moderation,  for  one, 
 \yho  reftricts  himfelf  too  much.  Let  every  reader  lay 
 his  hand  upon  his  heart,  and  think  what  loll  time  he 
 >vill  have  to  anfwer  for  hereafter.  The  fafp  fide  is,  to 
 indulge  rather  too  little  than  too  much.  A  tolerable 
 conflitution  will  hold  better  with  eight  hours  lleep,  in 
 the  twenty-four,  thaii  with  more.  And  as  to  relaxa- 
 tions or  diverfions,  the  plea  of  their  neceflity  is  wholly 
 groundieis,  except  for  thofe  who  live  a  laborious,  or 
 itudious  life.  What  neceflity  for  thofe,  whofe  whole 
 exiftence  is  one  continued  courfe  of  indolence  and  re- 
 laxation, for  relaxation  ?  Relaxation  from  what  ?  Not 
 from  bulinefs  ;  for  they  never  do  any.  The  proper 
 relaxation  from  idlenefs,  would  be  to  do  fomewhat. 
 And  there  is  no  mortal,  who  is  one  degree  above  an 
 idiot,  that  is  not  capable  of  doing  forne thing  worth 
 living  for. 
 
 Whoever  can  perfuade  himfelf,  that  it  was  the  in- 
 tention of  his  Maker,  in  placing  him  in  this  ftate  of 
 difcipline,  that  he  should  pafs  an  exiftence  as  ufelefs  as 
 that  of  a  flock  or  a  ftone,  (fuppofing  him  innocent  of, 
 all  pofitive  crimes)  muft  have  ftrange  notions  of  the 
 pivine  Oeconomy,  and  of  his  own  nature.  If  that 
 fort  of  life  be  lawful  and  proper  for  one,  it  is  fo  for  all. 
 And  where  would  then  be  the  bufinefs  of  life,  the  im- 
 provement of  ourfelves,  the  care  of  our  children,  the 
 government  of  kingdoms,  the  advancement  of  the  fpe- 
 cies  toward  a  preparation  for  a  future  ftate  of  happinefs  ? 
 Xet  no  one  pretend,  that  he  cannot  find  employment, 
 till  he  has  at  leaft  performed  all  that  is  prefcribed  in, 
 this  book.  '  ^ 
 
 I  will  here  throw  together  a  few  remarks  on  fome  of 
 the  modern  faftiionable  amufements. 
 
 Gaming  is  an  amufement  wholly  unworthy  of  ratio- 
 nal beings,  having  neither  the  pretence  of  exercifmg 
 the  body,  of  exerting  ingenuity,  or  of  giving  any  natu- 
 ral pleafure  ;  and  owing  its  entertainment  wholly  to  an 
 unnatural  and  viated  taile :  the  caiife  of  infinite  lofs  of 
 
 time 
 
Of  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  323 
 
 time,  of  enormous  deftrudion  of  money,  of  irritating 
 the  paffions,  of  ftirring  up  avarice,  of  innumerable 
 fneaking  tricks  and  frauds,  of  encouraging  idlenefs,  of 
 difgufting  people  againfl  their  proper  employments,  and 
 of  finking  and  debafing  all  that  is  truly  great  and  valua- 
 ble in  the  mind*. 
 
 As  for  the  theatrical  diyerfions,  they  are  managed  in 
 fuch  a  manner,  that  a  fober  perfon  may  be  afliamed  to 
 be  feen  at  many  of  them.  It  is  notorious  that  the  bulk 
 of  our  Ejigli/h  plays  are  not  fit  to  be  feen  in  print.  The 
 tragedies  are,  generally  fpeaking,  a  heap  of  wild  flights 
 and  bombaltic  rants,  and  the  comedies  of  fcandalous 
 impurities ;  neither  of  which  can  be  thought  worthy 
 the  attention  of  a  people,  who  value  themfelves  either 
 upon  their  tafte  or  their  virtue.     There  may  be  found, 
 
 perhaps, 
 
 *  Cards  being  now  become  fo  univerfal,  as  to  be  the  nuliance  of  aimed 
 all  companies,  it  may  feera  necefTary  in  oppofing  the  general  prafi'ice  of  the 
 polite,  to  fupport  what  is  above  laid  againit  card-playing  by  feme  authori- 
 ties, which  will,  I  believe,  appear  at  leaft  equal  to  tliofe  of  any  of  the  molt 
 eminent  modern  defenders  of  that  ftupid  and  mifchievous  amulement. 
 
 "  Play,  wherein  perfons  of  condition,  efpeciaily  ladies"  [in  our  times  all 
 ages,  fexes,  and  ranks]  "  ^lu^f  fo  much  of  their  time,  is  a  plain  inliance 
 **  that  people  cannot  be  idle  5  they  muft  be  doing  fomething,"  [if  it  be  mil- 
 chief]  "  For  ho.w  elfe  could  they  fit  fo  many  hours  toUifig  at  that  which. 
 "  gives  generally  more  'vexation  than  delight  to  people,  while  they  are  en- 
 "  gaged  in  it  ?  It  is  certain,  gaming  leaves  no  fa/ isfai^ion  behind  it  to  tliofe 
 "  who  refleft  when  it  is  over,  and  it  no  way  profits  either  boJj  or  miiiJ.  As 
 *'  to  eJJates,  if  it  ftrike  fo  deep  as  to  concern  them,  it  is  then  a  trade,  and  not 
 **  a  recreation,  wherein  few  thrive  ;  and  at  bed,  a  thriving  gamefter  has  but 
 **  a  poor  trade  on't,  who  fills  his  pockets  at  the  jsrice  of  his  reputation." 
 
 LocicE  on  Educat.  p.  3,66. 
 And  afterwards,  page  368, 
 
 *'  As  to  cards  and  dice,  I  think  the  fafeft  and  beft  way  is,  never  to  learn 
 "  any  play  upon  ihem,  and  fo  to  be  incapacitated  for  thofe  dangerous  tempta- 
 *'  tions  and  incroaching  ^waflers  oi  nfcful  time.'''' 
 
 What  would  this  great  rnan  have  fiid,  had  he  lived  in  our  times,  when  it 
 is  common  for  people  to  fpend  five  or  fix  houis  every  night  at  cards,  Sunday 
 33ot  excepted  ;  which  amounts  to  a  fourth  or  fifth  part  of  the  whole  time  of 
 life,  and  comes  in  all  to  perhaps  ten  or  a  dozen  years  in  a  long  life  ?. 
 
 Let  us  now  hear  Mr.  AdJijon  on  the  fame  Jubjeft.     SpcCT.  No.  93. 
 
 "  I  mult  confefs  I  think  it  is  below  reafona'ole  creatures  to  be  altogether 
 *•  converfant  in  fuch  diverfions  as  are  merely  innocent,  and  have  nothing 
 *.'  elfe  to  recommend  them,  but  that  there  is  «o  hurt  in  them.  Wheiher  any 
 *'  kind  of  gaming  has  c--uen  thus  7nuch  ro  fay  for  itfelf,  I  (ball  not  determine  ; 
 •*  but  I  think  it  is  very  wonderful  to  fee  perfonsof  rhe  bej}  fe>ife,^^:iK\n^  away 
 <'  hours  together  \njhuffling  and  dividing  a  pack  of  cards,  with  no  other  ccn- 
 "  'verfation,  but  what  is  made  up  of  a  few  game phrafes,  and  no  otlier  idens^ 
 "  but  thofe  of  ^/^Cit  oxredfpots,  ranged  together  in  different  figures.  Would 
 .V  npta  manlaugh  tphear  any  one  of  tliis  fpecies.coiTiplaimng//j«//j^f  i.yjhort'c'''^ 
 
 Y  3 
 
,3^4  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IIL 
 
 perhaps,  in  the  £w^///Z' language,  about  twenty  or  thirty 
 pieces,  efpecially  fome  of  Shake/pear'' s,  which,  if  Sub- 
 jected to  pretty  fevere  cafligation,  and  properly  repre- 
 fented,  might  be  faid  to  make  a  noble  entertainment. 
 But  thefe  ferve  only  as  traps  to  draw  in  the  innocent  and 
 unweary  to  a  delight  in  the  diverfions  of  the  theatre. 
 And  by  the  fagacity  of  the  managers  of  the  theatres, 
 v/ho  very  well  know,  that  the  grofs  of  an  audience  have 
 no  tafte  for  what  is  really  excellent  in  thofe  entertain- 
 ments,  and  are  only  to  be  pleafed  with  fhew,  or 
 ribaldry  ;  by  their  cunning  management,  I  fay,  it  comes 
 about,  that  it  is  not  much  fafer  for  a  young  and  inno- 
 cent perfon  to  be  prefent  at  the  rcprefentation  of  a 
 cbafte  and  virtuous  piece,  than  of  one  of  the  moil  pro- 
 fane. What  does  it  avail,  that  the  piece  itfelf  Be  unex- 
 ceptionable ;  if  it  is  to  be  interlarded  with  lewd  fongs 
 or  dances,  and  tagged  at  the  conclulion  with  a  ludicrous 
 and  beaftly  farce  ?  I  cannot  therefore,  in  confcience, 
 give  youth  any  other  advice,  than  generally  to  avoid 
 fuch  diverfions,  as  cannot  be  indulged  without  the  ut- 
 nloft  danger  of  perverting  their  taile,  and  corrupting 
 their  morals. 
 
 Asformafquerades,  if  the  intention  of  them  be  intrigu- 
 ing, they  anfw  er  fome  end,  though  a  bad  one ;  if  not^ 
 they  feem  by  all  accounts  to  be  fuch  a  piece  of  wretched 
 focle;y,  as  ought  to  be  beneath  any  but  children,  or 
 mad  people.  That  a  thoufand  people  Ihould  come  to- 
 gether in  ridiculous  drelTes  only  to  fqueak  to  one  ano- 
 ther, /  know  you,  and,  Bo  you  know  me  !  Pofterity,  if 
 the  world  fhouid  grow  a  little  wifer,  will  not  believe 
 if,  but  will  conclude,  that  their  grandfathers  and 
 grandmothers  were  very  naught.  A  multitude  affem- 
 bled  together  in  malks,  by  which  means  fliame,  the 
 great,  reftraint  from  vice,  is  baniChed  I  What  can  be 
 imagined  more  threatening  to  the  intereils  of  virtue 
 .and  decency*?  I  know 
 
 *  Among  various  other  the  immortal  honours  of  our  prefent  moft  excel- 
 lent Sovereign,  George  III.  may  this  page  hand  down  to  pofterity,  that  he 
 has  (et  his  royal  authority  and  example  in  full  oppofition  to  the  vices  here 
 remarked  on,  viz.  Mafquerading,  Gaming,  and  crhninal  Gallantry.  And 
 to  the  indelible  difgrace  of  the  prefent  age,  be  it  remembered,  that,  in  con- 
 leoiience  of  the  difconttnt  of  a  fet  of  dilappointed  grandees,  the  merit  of  fo 
 ismiuble  a  prince  has  not  been  elteemed  as,  from  the  kliOWa  ge»eroiity  ci' 
 )ie  people  of  Jiritain;  jniglit  Iwve  beeii  expelled. 
 
^f  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE,  32^ 
 
 I  know  of  no  very  material  objedion  againfl  the 
 entertainments  of  mulic  called  concerts,  if  they  be  not 
 purfued  to  the  lofs  of  too  much  time  or  money.  Thofe 
 called  oratorios,  being  a  kind  of  dramas  taken  from 
 Scripture,  are,  I  think,  exceptionable,  as  they  tend  to 
 degrade  thofe  awful  fubjecls,  and  to  turn  into  diverlion 
 what  is  more  proper  for  devotion. 
 
 Promifcuous  dancing  at  public  balls,  is  a  diverfion  na> 
 way  proper  for  young  people,  as  it  gives  an  opportu- 
 nity for  the  artful  and  defigning  of  either  fex  to  Liy 
 fhares  for  one  another,  which  fometimes  prove  fatal. 
 At  the  fame  time,  country-dancing  in  private,  where 
 the  whole  company  are  known  to  oiie  another,  where 
 the  parents  or  other  judicious  perfons  prelide,  where  de- 
 cency is  kept  up,  and  moderation  ufed,  muft,  I  thinkj, 
 be  oAvned  to  be  both  an  agreeable  amufement,  and  a 
 "wholefome  exercife. 
 
 Hunting,  the  favourite  diverfion  of  the  country-gen- 
 try, is,  without  doubt,  the  very  bell  that  can  be  ufedj 
 for  the  prefervation  of  health,  exclufivc  of  the  danger 
 of  broken  bones.  Bnt,  as  a  gentleman  ought  in  all  rea- 
 fon  to  be  potTelTed  of  other  endowments  and  accom- 
 plilhments,  befides  that  of  a  healthy  conllitution,  one 
 would  think,  a  few  other  employments  fhould  have 
 place  ;  fuch  as  reading,  overlooking  their  bufinefs,  im- 
 proving their  eftate  ;  ferving  their  friends,  and  country, 
 and  preparing  themfelves  for  another  world  :  for  furely 
 that  cannot  be  faid  to  be  the  exiftence  of  a  thinking, 
 focial,  immortal  creature,  which  is  divided  between, 
 hunting,  drinking,  and  lleeping. 
 
 The  diftrefs  many  people  feem  to  be  in  for  fome- 
 what  to  pafs  the  time,  might  have  been  prevented  by 
 their  ftudying  in  the  earlier  part  of  life  to  acquire  a 
 little  tafte  for  reading  and  contemplation.  Whoevei* 
 can  find  an  agreeable  companion  in  a  book,  a  tree,  or 
 a  flower,  can  never  be  at  a  lofs  how  to  pafs  his  leifure 
 hours,  though  he  fhould  not  be  in  the  way  of  the  card- 
 table,  the  tavern,  or  the  play.  And  it  is  well  worth 
 while  to  acquire  a  little  tafte  for  mental  amufements  in 
 one's  early  years  (the  only  time  of  life  in  which  it  is 
 to  be  acquired)  for  when  all  is  faid,  it  is  but  a  mifera- 
 
 y  3  ,     ble 
 
Sa--^  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  III. 
 
 ble  cafe  for  a  man  to  have  in  himfelf  no  entertainment 
 for  hiinfelf ;  but  to  be  obliged  to  be  beholden  to  others 
 for  all  his  pleafure  in  life. 
 
 Our  liiuation  in  the  prefent  (late  is  fuch,  that  every 
 thing  makes  a  part  cf  our  difcipline  ;  and  we  are  in 
 danger,  without  proper  care,  and  attention,  of  deviating 
 into  error  in  fo  feemingly  trivial  a  particular  as  that  of 
 drefs.  Too  much  time,  or  too  great  expence  beftowed 
 on  drefs,  that  is,  more  than  might  do  the  bulinefs  de- 
 cently, becomes  criminal.  For  that  is  wafting  upon  an 
 affair  of  very  little  confequence,  what  is  of  great  value, 
 and  might  be  much  better  applied.  Levity,  or  wan- 
 tonnefs  appearing  in  drefs,  is  aifo  unjultifiable,  as  tend- 
 ing to  produce  bad  eti'ecSts  on  ourfelves  and  others. 
 
 To  conclude,  the  proper  condud  of  the  paffions  and 
 appetites  confifts  briefly,  in  following  nature  in  the  in- 
 dulgence of  them  ;  in  taking  care,  above  all  things,  not 
 to  fufFer  them  to  get  fuch  a  hold  of  the  mind,  as  to  en- 
 flave  it,  that  is,  to  engage  fo  much  of  its  attention  as 
 may  difqualify  it  for  worthier  purfuits,  make  it  unhappy 
 by  continually  hankering  after  the  gratification  of  one 
 low  deiire  or  other,  and  lead  it  to  place  its  whole  fatis- 
 fadlion  in  fuch  gratifications.  The  due  condud:  of  the 
 paflions  and  appetites  fuppofes  reafon  to  bear  rule  in  the 
 mind,  and  the  inferior  powers  to  be  in  fubjedion. 
 Whoever  keeps  his  mind  conftantly  in  fuch  a  condition, 
 is  at  all  times  in  a  capacity  for  adling  a  part  fuitable  to 
 the  Dignity  of  Human  Nature,  and  performing  his  duty 
 to  his  fellow-creatures,  and  to  his  Creator. 
 
 SECT.     VII. 
 
 Of  our  Obligations  'with   Rcfpedi   to    our  Fellow- 
 creatures. 
 
 THE  foundation  upon  which  the  whole  of  our  duty 
 to  our  fellow-creatures  muft  reft,  is  benevolence. 
 And  the  meafure  of  our  love  to  the  reft  of  mankind,  is, 
 its  being  equal  to  that  which  we  have  for  ourfelves.  The 
 leafon  why  it  is  made  our  duty  to  love  our  neighbours 
 as  ourfelves,  is,  That  being  proper,  there  fliould  be  fuch 
 an  order  of  beings,  as  man,  created,  it  was  impoflible 
 for  Divine  Wifdom  to.  propofe  the  produdion  of  fuch  a 
 
 fpecies, 
 
'i^fVtrhie.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  327 
 
 fpecies,  without  intending  them  to  be  united  together 
 as  a  fociety  ;  and  that  mutual  love  and  agreement  are 
 efientially  necelTary  to  the  very  idea  of  a  fociety,  As 
 it  is  impoflible  to  conceive  a  material  fyftem,  in  which, 
 repulfiou  Ihould  univerfally  prevail,  and  attradion  have 
 no  place,  but  every  particle  of  matter  fliould  repel  every 
 other,  fo  is  it  conceivable  that  a  fociety  ftiould  fublilf^ 
 in  which  every  individual  fhould  hate  every  other. 
 
 Our  felf-love  is  very  wifely  made  the  meafure  of  our 
 love  to  our  fellow-creatures,  becaufe  every  individual 
 ought  to  confider  himfelf  as  only  one  among  many,  and 
 no  way  of  greater  confequence  than  his  neighbour,  be- 
 fore the  univerfal  Governor,  than  as  he  may  be  more 
 virtuous  than  he.  And  as  human  penetration  does  not 
 reach  io  far  as  to  judge  of  inteinai  cbarafters,  we  can- 
 Dot  upon  any  rational  pretence  pronounce  ourfelves 
 preferable  to  othei's,  nor  confequently  ought  to  love  our 
 fellow-creatures  at  all  lefs  than  ourfelves.  It  is  true, 
 that  the  order  of  human  affairs  is  fuch,  as  to  direct 
 every  man  to  apply  himfelf  to  the  condudting  of  his 
 own  concerns,  and  confulting  his  own  intereft ;  becaufe 
 every  man  knows  belt,  and  is  therefore  the  fitteft,  to 
 undertake  the  management  of  his  own  concerns,  tem- 
 poral and  fpiritual.  By  which  means  every  man's  con- 
 cerns are  likely  to  be  managed  to  the  belt  purpofe.  But 
 it  does  not  follow  from  thence,  that  any  man  ought  in 
 Jiis  own  mind  to  prefer  himfelf  to  another,  or  to  love 
 himfelf  more  than  his  neighbour. 
 
 Whoever  loves  his  neighbour  as  himfelf,  will  fhew 
 liis  affedion  by  confulting  his  interelt  in  all  things  which 
 may  concern  either  his  body,  his  foul,  his  fortune,  or 
 reputation  :  For  every  man,  who  rationally  loves  him- 
 jelf,  will  ftudy  his  own  intereft  with  refped  to  thefe 
 four  great  eoncerns. 
 
 To  confult  our  neighbour's  interelt,  is,  to  do  him  no 
 injury;  to  prevent,  as  much  as  in  us  lies,  any  other  per- 
 son from  injuring  him ;  to  do  him  juilice  in  every  re- 
 fped, and,  beyond  jultice,  to  fhew  him  all  the  kind- 
 nefs  in  our  power. 
 
 To  be  negatively  good,  if  we  proceed  no  farther,  is 
 deferving  no  more  praife  than  a  ftock  or  a  ftone.     And 
 
 y  4  '  thofQ 
 
328  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  III, 
 
 thofe  relfifli  and  narrow-hearted  people,  whofe  whole 
 praife  is,  that  they  do  no  harm,  are  not  to  be  reckoned 
 upon  as  members  of  foclety,  but  are  mere  cyphers  in 
 the  creation.  Such  fordid  difpofitions  as  will  admit  no 
 thought  of  any  thing  but  felf.  can  never  be  fit  far  any 
 place  in  that  more  extenhve  future  fociety,  which  will 
 be  compofed  wholly  of  beings  enobled  and  perfeded  by 
 virtue  and  univerfal  benevolence :  For  in  that  higher 
 ftate,  every  individual  will  be  connected  with  the  whole, 
 and  the  whole  with  every  individual:  fo  that  there  will 
 be  no  detached  or  feparate  beings.  This  (hews  the  ne- 
 ceffiry  of  our  becoming  habituated  to  coniider  ourfelves 
 as  parts  of  the  whole,  and  of  enlarging  our  minds  by 
 an  extenfive  benevolence.  This  alfo  ihews  the  ftrange 
 abfurdity  of  making  retirement  from  fociety,  in  the  ac- 
 tive time  of  life,  apart  of  religion;  as  by  that  unna- 
 tural and  raonftrous  prad:ice  one  third  part  of  our  duty 
 is  wholly  cutoff,,  and  the  human  mind,  which  ought 
 by  ail  poflible  methods  to  be  drawn  and  engaged  to  {o- 
 ciety,  is  detached  and  feparated  from  it,  and  habitu- 
 ated to  think  with  horror  of  the  very  flate  for  which  it 
 was  formed. 
 
 Affection  to  our  neighbour  Vv'iil  prevent  our  injuring 
 him,  and  incline  us  to  do  him  the  utmoft  juflice,  firft 
 as  to  his  fortune  or  polTefiions.  I  begin  with  this,  as 
 that  part  of  our  neighbour's  concerns,  which  is  of  the 
 the  leall  confequence  ;  intending  to  proceed  afterwards 
 to  thofe  which  touch  more  nearly.  Now  the  founda- 
 tion of  property  is  in  reafon  or  reditude  ;  that  is  to  fay,, 
 That  a  perfon  may  in  fuch  a  manner  come  to  be  pof- 
 feffed  of  a  portion  of  the  good  things  of  life,,  that  he 
 may  have  an  exclufive  right  to  it  againft  all  mankind  ; 
 fo  that  for  any  other  to  deprive  him  of  fuch  poffelTion 
 againft  his  confent,  would  be  iniquitous.  As  the  infi- 
 nite Author  of  all  things  has  an  unqueftionable  title  to 
 all  creatures  and  things  in  the  univerfe,  it  is  evident, 
 that  he  may,  in  the  courfe  of  his  providence,  give  to 
 any  man  the  pofTeffion  of  any  of  the  good  things  of  life; 
 and  what  He  gives  cannot  without  injuftice  be,  by  any 
 private  perfon,  forcibly  or  clandefiinely  taken  away.  At 
 the  fame  time,  the  general  confeat  of  fociety ;^  or  the  law 
 
 of 
 
Of  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  52^' 
 
 of  the  country  in  which  a  perfon  lives,  may,  for  wife 
 and  generally  beneficial  purpofes,  render  property  other- 
 wife  rightful,  rot  tenable,  and  may  make  all  things 
 common,  except  where  the  Divine  law  has  abfolutely 
 prohibited  alienation,  as  in  matrimony.  In  a  country, 
 where  exclufive  property  is  eftablifhcd  and  fupport^d 
 by  law  vr  mutual  agreement,  a  right  to  valuable  pofTef- 
 fions  may  come  fiifl  by  birth.  It  is  plainly  agreeable 
 toreafon,  that  a  parent  provide  for  his  own  offspring,  pre- 
 ferably to  ftrangers.  The  natural  affection  of  even  the 
 inferior  creatures  for  their  young,  leads  to  this.  By  the 
 fame  rule,  all  fucceffions  among  perfons  related  by  mar- 
 riage or  blood,  are  equitably  and  legally  eftabliflied ; 
 and  it  becomes  injuftice  to  deprive  any  one  of  property 
 fo  acquired.  The  fruits  of  a  perfon's  ingenuity,  or  la- 
 bour, are  alio  lawful  property.  Purchafe  is  the  giving 
 what  one  had  a  right  to,  for  fom.ething  v.'hich  belonged 
 to  another,  and  therefore  purchafe  gives  a  juft  right. 
 Free  gift,  from  one  who  has  power  to  give,  makes  a 
 juft  title.  In  things  which  have  been  claimed  by  no 
 one,  the  firft  poffeffion  gives  a  title,  as  in  the  cafe  of 
 unhabited  countries.  To  feiie  a  country  by  force  of 
 arms,  to  the  prejudice  of  the  original  inhabitants,  is  a 
 flagrant  injufiice.  For  as  the  firlt  entrance  into  an  un- 
 .  inhabited  country,  being  by  the  direction  of  Providence, 
 gives  the  firft  difcoverers  a  title  to  it,  it  is  evident,  that 
 no  perion  can,  without  violating  the  laws  of  juftice,  di- 
 ilurb  the  firft  poffeffors  in  their  property,  or  pretend  to 
 a  fettleraent  in  that  country,  but  by  agreement  with  the 
 firft  poffeflbrs. 
 
 I  do  not  think  it  neceffary  to  my  purpofe  to  deter- 
 mine, with  the  utraoft  exaclnefs,  the  boundaries  of  pro- 
 perty, or  how  far  one  perfon  may  lawfully  encroach  uport 
 another's  right.  Whoever  fincerely  loves  his  neighbour 
 with  the  fame  meafure  of  affedlion  as  himfelf,  will  be  as 
 tender  of  his  property  as  he  would  wifti  others  to  be  of  his 
 own;  and  v^hoever  refolves  to  regulate  his  conducft  ac- 
 cording to  reditude,  will  be  more  delicately  fearful  of 
 breaking  in  upon  another's  right,  than  of  lofing  part  of 
 his  own  ;  and  with  the  utmoft  reafon  :  For  in  violating 
 his  neighbour's  right,  he  becomes  guilty  before  God  ^ 
 whereas  in  lofing  his  own^  the  worft  confequeiice  is,  his 
 
 being 
 
330  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  III. 
 
 being  deprived  of  what  is  of  no  great  value  in  itfelf,  and 
 which  he  muft  foori  leave  behind  him. 
 
 Whcicever  practices  tend  to  the  violation  of  any  per- 
 fon's  jiif^  property,  they  are  all  contrary  to  the  affedion 
 we  ought  to  entertain  for  our  neighbour,  and  to  Uriel: 
 redlituds.  Wheihr;{  fuch  praftices  are  openly  violent, 
 or  more  iiidiredl  and  concealed,  the  confequences  being 
 the  fanse,  the  vice  is  the  fame  ;  unlefs  where  increafed 
 or  diminilhed  by  circumtlances  of  greater  or  lefs  aggra- 
 vation. Thus,  receiving  or  concealing  the  property  of 
 another,  whether  flolen,  robbed,  or  found,  if  the  pro- 
 prietor is  known,  or  affifting  or  countenancing  another 
 in  fuch  pradices,  is  the  fame  injury  to  our  neighbour 
 as  dired  thefc. 
 
 The  moft  extenfive  and  ruinous  violation  of  property/ 
 is  that  which  is  committed  by  thofe  fcourges  and  curfes 
 of  this  lower  world,  Tyrants.  When  one  of  thofe  fu- 
 ries, the  difgrace  and  horror  of  the  human  fpecies, 
 breaks  loofe  upon  mankind,  a  whole  kingdom  is  robbed, 
 a  quarter  of  the  world  is  plundered.  And  in  that  day, 
 "vi^hen  all  differences  of  rank  will  be  at  an  end,  dreadful 
 in  that  day  will  be  the  charge  againft  thofe  who,  being 
 by  Divine  Providence  raifed  for  the  general  happinefs 
 of  mankind,  have  ufed  their  power  only  to  fpread  ex- 
 tenfive mifery  and  difirefs  among  God's  creatures. 
 
 Whoever  is  by  the  Divine  Providence  raifed  to  a  fla- 
 tion  of  power  and  influence,  and  takes  the  advantage  of 
 his  power  to  opprefs  his  inferiors,  fhews  himfelf  not  only 
 unjull,  but  cowardly  :  For  true  greatnefs  of  mind  fcorns 
 any  unfair  advantage.  And  if  it  be  unjull  to  appro- 
 priate to  one's  felf  what  belongs  to  another,  how^ever 
 able  he  may  be  to  bear  the  lofs,  much  more  cruel  and 
 bale  is  it  for  the  rich  to  avail  themfelves  of  their  power 
 to  the  diftreffing  of  their  poor  tenants  or  dependents. 
 What  will  add  but  a  fmall  matter  to  the  already  over- 
 grown wealth  and  fuperfluous  ftate  of  the  powerful 
 landlord,  wrung  from  the  poor  induftrious  farmer,  re- 
 duces him,  and  his  numerous  family,  to  the  extremity 
 of  dillrefs.  And  that  heart  muft  have  little  feeling,  that 
 would  not  fpare  a  fuperfluous  difh,  or  a  needlefs  bottle, 
 ratner  than  a  family  of  half  a  dozen  fellow-creatures 
 ^Duld  want  bread,  1  know 
 
^fVirtiif.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  53f 
 
 I  know  of  no  oppreffion  in  this  happy  country,  of 
 fach  great  and  extenfive  bad  confequeiice,  as  thic  oc- 
 cafioncd  by  the  abufe  of  law  :  The  grievance  ot  which 
 is  fo  much  more  calamitous,  as  the  very  intention  of 
 the  law  is  the  rcdrefs  of  grievances.  It  is  notorious, 
 that  it  is  in  the  power  of  any  rafcally  pettifogger  to  keep 
 a  whole  town  in  fear,  and  to  ruin  as  many  as  he  pleafes 
 of  the  poor  and  indurtrious  part  of  the  inhabitants,  who 
 are,  without  doubt,  colledively  conftdered,  the  mofl 
 valuable  part  of  the  people :  And  the  judge  upon  tho 
 bench  muft  fit  and  fee  fuch  wicked  pradices,  without 
 having  it  in  his  power  to  give  any  relief  to  an  unhappy 
 fubjed:,  who  is  ftripped,  and  his  family  beggared,  to 
 fatisfy  a  voracious  blood-fucker;  and  all  under  pretence 
 of  equity.  One  lingle  regulation  would  at  once  put  a 
 flop  to  this  whole  complaint,  viz.  A  law,  by  v/hich  in 
 all  cafes  of  profecution  about  private  concerns,  if  one 
 of  the  parties  chofe  to  fubmit  the  caufe  to  arbitration, 
 the  other  fhould  be  obliged  to  Hand  to  the  award.  The 
 moft  judicious  and  prudent  fet  of  men  in  the  nation,  I 
 mean  the  merchants,  find  this  the  moll  amicable,  equi- 
 table, and  frugal  manner  of  deciding  difputes  about 
 property,  and  generally  ufe  it.  And  it  were  to  be 
 wifhed  that  it  were  univerfal ;  which  it  is  to  be  hoped 
 the  abominable  iniquity  of  the  law  will  at  lall  bring 
 about. 
 
 The  ancient  maxim,  that  the  rigour  of  the  law  is  the 
 height  of  injuftice,  is  undoubtedly  true.  And  whoever 
 is  ready  to  take  all  advantages  of  his  neighbour,  which 
 the  law,  ftrained  to  its  utmoft  ftridnefs,  will  give  him, 
 Ihews  himlelf  (fo  far  from  loving  his  neighbour  as  him- 
 felf )  to  be  of  a  difpolition  to  plunder  his  neighbour  for 
 his  own  advantage  in  the  moft  iniquitous  n:anner,  if  he 
 could  but  at  the  fame  time  keep  himfelf  fafe  ;  and  that 
 it  is  not  the  love  of  juftice  and  of  his  neighbour,  but 
 fear  of  punilbment,  that  reitrains  him  from  the  moft 
 notorious  violation  of  property  by  theft  or  robbery. 
 
 If  by  borrowing  money,  or  buying  goods  upon  cre- 
 dit, knowing  one's  felf  to  be  in  no  condition  to  pay, 
 while  the  perfon  he  deals  with  believes  him  fit  to  be 
 t<rufted,  if  by  fuch  means  as  thefe  one  may  as  much  in- 
 jure 
 
-3^  ^HE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  lit, 
 
 jure  his  neighbour's  eftate,  as  "by  open  violence  or  theft, 
 it  is  evident  that  all  fuch  proceedings  are  highly  unjaft. 
 Every  man  has  a  right  to  know  the  truth  in  all  cafes 
 which  concern  himfelf :  And  whoever  conceals  from 
 his  neighbour  a  truth,  which,  if  he  had  knov/n,  he 
 would  have  aded  another  part  than  he  did,  is  the  caufe 
 of  all  the  lofs  he  may  fuffer  by  fuch  tranfaclion.  Yet 
 nothing  is  more  common  than  for  traders  to  borrow- 
 large  fums  a  very  few  days  before  their  becoming  in- 
 folvent.  In  which,  befides  the  injuOice,  the  abuie  of 
 friendfliip  and.  coniidence  greatly  aggravates  the  ini- 
 quity. 
 
 It  is  lamentable  to  obferve  how  little  regard  is  too 
 generally  paid  to  fuch  promifes  as  people  think  tbem- 
 felves  not  legally  liable  to  be  compelled  to  the  perform- 
 ance of.  Breaking  promifes  is  violating  facred  truth. 
 And  withholding  from  a  perfon  what  one  has  abfolutely 
 promifed  him,  fuppoling  it  ftill  in  his  power  to  perform 
 his  promife,  is  depriving  him  of  what  he  has  a  right  to 
 claim  :  which  is  in  effed;  a  violation  of  property.  Ef- 
 pecially  in  the  cafe  of  a  dependence  upon  a  promife 
 given,  by  which  the  expectant  is  difappointed,  and 
 greatly  injured.  This  is  diredl  injuftice,  falfehood,  and 
 cruelty.  Nor  does  the  confideration  of  an  unexpected 
 expence,  which  the  fulfilling  of  the  promife  may  occa- 
 Jion,  bring  any  excufe  for  violating  it.  All  that  was 
 to  have  been  confidered  beforehand,  and  accounted 
 upon,  before  you  gave  your  promife.  At  the  fame  time 
 a  generous  man  will  quit  his  right  to  what  has  been 
 promifed  him,  when  he  fmds,  that  the  promifer  can- 
 not, without  confiderable  detriment,  fuUil  his  engage- 
 ment. 
 
 To  withhold  a  jufl:  debt,  though  the  creditor  fhould 
 not  have  it  in  his  power  to  recover  it  by  law%  is  equally 
 unjull,  as  in  the  cafe  of  its  being  recoverable.  The 
 intention  of  the  law  of  bankruptcy  is  to  give  unfortu- 
 nate debtors  an  opportunity  of  doing  juftice  to  their  cre- 
 ditors. Therefore  he,  who  takes  the  advantage  of  his 
 being  cleared  by  the  ftatute  of  bankruptcy,  and  refufes 
 to  make  complete  payment  of  his  w  hole  debts,  when  it 
 comes  afterwards  to  be  in  his  powei';  is  guilty  of  tho 
 
 fame 
 
Vf  Virtue.)  HUMAN   NATURE.  33^ 
 
 fame  fort  of  injuftice  as  the  thief.  And  to  take  advan- 
 tage of  fandiuaries,  or  privileged  places  ;  or  of  the 
 laws  in  favour  of  Members  of  either  Houfe  of  Parlia- 
 ment, to  fcreen  one's  felf,  or  others  ;  or  by  any  other 
 means  to  evade,  or  allift  others  in  evading,  the  payment 
 of  juft  debts,  where  it  is  in  the  debtor's  power  to  make 
 payment,  is  the  very  fame  fpecies  of  iniquity  as  theft, 
 with  the  aggravation  of  the  abufe  of  law,  and  the  bafe- 
 nefs  of  taking  an  advantage  of  the  wxaker. 
 
 Nor  is  the  abfolute-  refufal  of  a  juft  debt,  only  in- 
 juftice ;  but  even  the  delay  of  payment  beyond  a  rea- 
 fonable  time,  if  at  all  in  one's  power  to  make  payment, 
 is  injurious  and  iniquitous.  And  all  the  prejudice  fuf- 
 fered  by  the  creditor,  by  Jofs  of  intereft  of  money,  or 
 by  inconveniences  in  his  affairs,  though  want  of  w^iat 
 he  has  a  juft  title  to,  is  juftly  to  be  laid  to  the  charge  of 
 the  debtor. 
 
 All  breach  of  truft,  whether  through  carelefs  neglect 
 or  voluntary  embezzling  of  what  is  committed  to  one's 
 care,  in  the  capacity  of  an  executor  of  the  will  of  the 
 dead,  of  an  affignee.  It  e ward,  fador,  deputy  ;  all  pro- 
 ceedings of  this  kind,  which  arc  different  from  the  con- 
 dud:  one  would  purfue  in  the  management  of  his  own 
 concerns^  or  might  in  reafon  exped  another  to  do  for 
 him,  are  deviations  from  rectitude,  and  the  great  rule 
 of  loving  our  neighbour  with  the  fame  meafure  of  af- 
 fedion  as  ourfelves. 
 
 In  commerce  and  traffic,  all  advantages  taken  by  dea- 
 lers, againft  one  another,  beyond  what  the  one,  if  he 
 were  in  the  other's  place,  v/ould  think  juft  and  reafon- 
 able ;  are  iniquitous.  Of  this  kind  are  all  deceits  in 
 goods,  as  putting  them  off  for  fomewhat  better  than 
 they  are,  whether  that  be  done  by  concealing  their  real 
 faults,  or  by  giving  them  counterfeit  advantages.  Over- 
 rating of  commodities ;  that  is,  felling  them  at  fuch  a 
 price,  as  will  yield  an  exorbitant  profit  to  the  feller,  to 
 the  prejudice  of  the  buyer,  v/hich  (liew^s  in  a  very  bad 
 liglit  all  monopolies,  eipecially  of  fuch  articles  of  com- 
 merce as  are  neceffary  in  trade,  or  in  life.  All  advan- 
 tages taken  by  traders  poffeffed  of  large  capitals,  to  the 
 iiurt  of  perfons  ia  narrower  circumftaiiccs.    All  advan- 
 
 2  tages 
 
334  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  HI. 
 
 tages  taken  by  the  knowing,  againfl:  the  ignorant.  Ad- 
 vantages taken  by  the  buyer  againft  the  feller,  whether 
 of  his  ignorance  or  neceffity.  And  thofe  moft  flagrant 
 iniquities  of  falfe  weights,  meafures,  or  coins  ;  with 
 whatever  elfe  in  general,  may  be  the  means  of  trans- 
 ferring to  one  perfon  the  property  of  another  in  any 
 manner,  which  he  who  is  the  gainer  would  think  an 
 injuftice  and  hardPnip,  if  he  were  in  the  cafe  of  the 
 lofer  ;  all  fuch  arts  of  commerce  are  iniquitous  and  un- 
 juftifiable. 
 
 Reader,  if  thou  art  wife,  thou  wilt  flop  here,  and  ex- 
 amine thy  heart,  and  thy  life.  If  thou  haft  ever  de- 
 fired,  or  efFefted,  the  prejudice  of  thy  neighbour  in  his 
 property,  whether  by  means  of  power  or  craft,  as  thou 
 lovelt  thy  foul,  do  not  delay  one  day  to  repent,  and  re- 
 form thy  fault,  and  to  make  ample  reftitution,  to  the 
 injured  perfon,  to  his  heirs,  or  if  thefe  cannot  be 
 found,  to  the  poor.  If  thou  goeft  down  to  the  grave 
 loaded  with  the  fpoils  of  injuftice,  they  will  fink  thy 
 foul  to  the  bottomlefs  pit.  For  the  Judge  of  the  world- 
 is  of  infinite  purity  and  juftice ;  and  will  Iliew  no  mercy 
 to  the  impenitent  oflfender  againft  unchangeable  and 
 eternal  rectitude. 
 
 Men  being  drawn  to  make  encroachments  upon  the 
 property  of  others,  through  avarice  ;  it  is  evidently  the 
 duty  of  every  man  to  look  into  his  own  heart,  and  find 
 out  whether  the  love  of  riches  takes  Up  too  much  room 
 in  it.  And  if  he  finds,  what  I  doubt  moft  men  will  findj, 
 that  he  loves  riches  better  than  he  does  his  neighbour, 
 that  he  has  a  greater  defire  to  gain  wealth  than  to  be 
 of  fervice  to  his  fellow-creatures,  it  is  his  undoubted- 
 duty  to  conquer  the  fordid  paflion,  and  ftrengthen  the 
 generous  one.  To  this  purpofe  it  will  be  his  wifdom 
 to  fet  himfelf  in  earneft  to  deep  confideration  on  the 
 evil  of  avarice,  and  the  excellence  of  juftice ;  to  earneft: 
 prayer  to  heaven  for  affiftance  in  the  conquefli  of  this 
 vicious  difpofition;  and  to  avoid  extravagance  and  pro- 
 fufion,  which  are  often  the  caufe  of  the  moft  rapacious 
 and  infatiable  avarice. 
 
 Every  man  has  a  right  to  be  thought  and  fpoken  of 
 y.ccording  to  his  reui  character.     Confequently,  who- 
 
 ever^ 
 
fj  virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  535 
 
 ^ver,  by  any  means,  diredl  or  indiredl,  is  the  occafion 
 pf  his  neighbour's  being  worfe  thought,  or  fpoken  of, 
 than  he  deferves,  is  guihy  of  injuring  his  neighbour  ; 
 ^nd  all  injurious  treatment  of  a  fellow-creature  is  con- 
 trary to  reditude,  and  inconfiftent  with  the  love  we 
 ought  to  have  for  our  neighbour,  which  ought  to  be 
 equal  to  that  with  which  one  loves  himfelf. 
 
 The  moil  atrocious  injury  againft  our  neighbour's  re- 
 putation is,  falfe  witnefs  before  a  judge.  The  laws  of 
 feveral  nations  have  condemned  the  guilty  of  this  crime 
 to  fulFer  the  f^ime  punilhmcnt,  to  which  the  law  expofed 
 the  perfon  fworn  againft.  But  I  know  no  puniihment 
 too  fevere  for  ^  crime  of  fo  black  a  nature,  and  which 
 draws  along  with  it  fuch  horrid  confequences.  To  take 
 the  eternal  God  of  truth  to  witnefs  to  a  known  falfe- 
 hood  ;  to  defeat  the  very  intention  of  an  oath,  which  is 
 often  the  only  poffible  means  for  the  difcovery  of  truth; 
 to  render  all  human  teftiraony  fufpicious ;  to  ftop  the 
 courfe  of  juftice,  and  open  a  door  to  all  manner  of 
 iniquity  and  violence  ;  to  blaft  the  charader  of  an 
 innocent  perfon  in  the  molt  public  manner,  and  in 
 the  manner  the  moft  effectual  for  ruining  it,  as  being 
 the  moil  likely  to  gain  belief  to  his  prejudice  ;  to  vio- 
 late his  property,  perhaps  to  reduce  himfelf  and  his  fa- 
 mily to  beggary  ;  or  to  be  the  caufe  of  palling  upon  him 
 a  fentence  of  death  for  what  he  never  was  capable  of 
 committing  ;  to  take  a  falfe  oath  againft  a  perfon  before 
 a  court,  1*5  to  be  guilty  of  fuch  black  and  complicated 
 crimes  as  thefe  :  And  for  this  our  law  inflifts  a  puniih- 
 ment, which  a  little  money  given  the  conftables  makes 
 ajmoft  no  punifnment  I 
 
 To  fpread  a  falfe  report  againft  any  perfon,  is  con- 
 trary to  the  ioye  we  ought  to  have  for  our  neighbour, 
 and  to  juftice,  whether  it  be  known  to  be  fuch,  or  in- 
 vented for  the  purpofe  by  the  publifner,  or  whether  it 
 be  a  mere  furmiie  or  fufjpicion.  To  invent  a  lie,  or 
 propogate  a  known  falfehood,  to  the  prejudice  of  any 
 perfoa's  charadler,  is  taking  up  the  office  of  Satan  him- 
 felf, who  is  ftyled  in  Scripture  the  Accufer.  But,  that 
 even  inlinuations,  and  whifpers,  or  nods  and  (hrugs,  by 
 which  an  innocent  character  may  be  blafted  or  ruined, 
 ^re  wicked  and  cruel/  every  man's  confcience  will  tell 
 
 him. 
 
336  THE  DIGNITY  OF  _    (Book  IIL 
 
 him,  if  he  will  put  it  to  himfelf,  how  he  fhould  like  to 
 be  {o  ufed,  or  refled:  upon  the  uneafinefs  it  gave  him,  if 
 ever  he  fufFered  in  the  fame  manner. 
 
 If  by  fneering  and  ridicule,  upon  an  innocent  infirmity, 
 a  perfon  may  be  laughed  out  of  the  refpedl  and  efteem, 
 which  every  worthy  charader  deferves,  it  is  evident, 
 that  fuch  wantonly  mifchievous  niirth  is  highly  unjufti- 
 fiable. 
 
 The  cruelty  of  all  practices,  which  tend  to  leffen  the 
 reputation  of  an  innocent  perfon,  appears  plainly  from 
 the  value  of  reputation  ;  which  is  always  dear  lo  great 
 and  worthy  minds ;  and  the  lofs  of  which  is  in  feme 
 cafes  peculiar  fatal.  The  charaders  of  a  clergyman,  a 
 governor  of  youth,  a  trader,  or  a  virgin,  are  more  deli- 
 cate than  thofe  of  other  perfons.  And  whoever  is  ca- 
 pable of  vv^antonly  attacking  fuch  charadlers,  muft  be 
 wholly  void  of  fentiment  for  his  fellow-creatures. 
 
 There  is  a  peculiarity  in  the  vice  we  are  now  treat- 
 ing of,  which  renders  this  more  atrocious,  than  that  of 
 invading  our  neighbour's  property.  It  is,  that  often 
 the  injured  perfon  is  robbed  of  what  is  to  him  of  inefti- 
 mable  worth,  and  the  cruel  fpoiler  not  enriched  by  the 
 rapine.  For  the  defamer  commonly  reaps  neither  pro- 
 fit, honour,  nor  pleafure,  unlefs  the  indulgence  of  ma- 
 lice can  be  called  a  pleafure,— vvhjch  if  it  is,  Satan  mull 
 be  a  very  happy  being. 
 
 The  defamer  is  as  much  more  infamous  than  the  open 
 railer,  as  the  dark  alTaffin  is  more  to  be  dreaded  than  the 
 fair  challenger.  And  the  defamer  and  aflaffin  refemble 
 one  another,  in  that  the  wounds  which  both  give,  prove 
 often  incurable. 
 
 Reader,  if  thou  makefl  it  thy  pradice  to  divert  thy- 
 felf  with  mifchief,  or  to  drive  to  build  thyfelf  an  iil- 
 founded  reputation  upon  the  ruins  of  thy  neighbour's, 
 or  think'ft,  by  undermining  him,  to  get  thyielf  into  the 
 advantages  he  now  enjoys;  remember  I  have  told  thee 
 there  will  be  no  triumph  hereafter,  when  thou  comell 
 to  be  judged  for  thy  idle  words.  The  ill-gotten  advan- 
 tages, thou  mayft  reap  from  thy  bafe  treachery  to  thy 
 brother,  if  thou  ihouldft  be  fuccefsful,  which  is  feldom 
 the  cafe,  v/ill  bring  a  curfe  along  with  them,  a  canker 
 
 worm. 
 
nf  virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  :537 
 
 ivorm,  that  vvll!  deftroy  both  them  and  thee.    And  take 
 notice,  no  malicious,  envious,  or  cruel  difpofition  will 
 find  any  arlmitlance  into  the   feats  of  future  biifs.     If 
 :hou  think'ii  to  be  hereafter  a  companion  of  angels  and 
 Spirits  of  good  men,  refolve  in  time  to  form  thy  mind 
 :o  univerfal  benevolence.     Learn  to   confider  even  the 
 abandoned  offender  as  ftill  a  human  creature,  the  pro- 
 iudion  of  the  fame  goodnefs  which  made  thyfeif ;    as 
 not  yet  out  of  the  reach  of  the  Divine  Grace,  and  there- 
 fore not  to  be  given  up  as  abfolutely  irrecoverable,  and, 
 if  recoverable,  again  a  fit  object  for  thy  love  ;    for  thy 
 Maker*s  love.     Do  not  therefore  dare  in  thy  mind  to 
 liate  or  defplfe,  nor  in  thy  converfation  to  refled:,  but 
 ivith  pity  and  humanity,   upon  even  the  real  vices  of 
 thy  fellow-creatUTe,  much  lefs  to  blacken  bis  unfpotted 
 reputation.     The  day  will  come,  when  thou  fhalt  Hand 
 before  the  fame  judgment  feat  with  him.    He  is  not  thy 
 creature,  but  God's.     Leave  him  to  God.     Is  a  fellow- 
 creature  guilty  of  a  fault  ?    So  art  thau.     It  is  no  part 
 of  thy  duty  to  inquire  into  his  faults,  ^  or  to  lay  them 
 open   to  others,   unlefs   to  prevent  the  mifchief  thou: 
 knoweil  he  is  preparing  to  do  another.     If  thou  art  not 
 fure  of  a  fuperior  good  to  be  gained  by  difcovering  thy 
 neighbour's  faults,   why  fhoaldil  thou  take  upon  thee 
 the  character  of  an  informer  ?  If  thy  neighbour  is  really 
 guilty,  why  lliouldft  thou  be  ambitious  of  the  office  of 
 an  executioner,  or  delight  in  lathing  offenders  ?   If  thou 
 haft  been  io  wicked  as  bafely  to  Itab  the  reputation  of 
 thy  innocent  fellow-creature,  I  charge  thee,   as  thou 
 loveft  thy  foul,   that  thou   endeavour  to  heal  up  the 
 wound  thou  hall  made.     Take  care,  that  every  fingle 
 perfon,  be  the  number  ever  fo  great,  v^^hofe  ear  thou 
 haft  abufed,  be  fet  right  with  refpeft  to  the  characfter 
 of  the  innocent.     If  thofe,  whofe  minds  thou  haft  poi- 
 foned,  have  communicated  the  venom  to  others;    be 
 fure  to  trace  the  wicked  lie,  the  fpawn  of  thy  own  foul 
 tongue,  through  ail  its  doublings,  and  deftroy  it,  that  it 
 jnay  fpread  its  deadly  influence  no  farther.    Take  fliame 
 to  thyfeif,  and  do  juftice  to  innocence.     Thou  hadft 
 better  fuffer  Ihame  now,  than  hereafter  before  God,  an- 
 gels, and  men. 
 
 1^  U 
 
33$  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  lit 
 
 It  is  plainly  contrary  to  the  benevolent  affeclion  we 
 ought  to  have  for  our  fellow-creature,  to  put  him  to  any 
 pain  or-dilirefs  of  body,  as  by  beating,  wounding,  or 
 maiming,  unlefs  in  felf-defence,  when  unjuftly  attacked ; 
 in  lawful  war;  or  in  cafe  of  his  having  deferved  cor- 
 poral correction,  and  if  w^e  are  authorifed  by  a  juft  law 
 to  inilicl,  or  caufe  it  to  be  inflicted  upon  him. 
 
 If  it  be  contrary  to  the  affechion  v^^e  ought  to  have 
 for  our  neighbour,  to  put  him  to  bodily  pain  needlcfsly, 
 or  unjullly,  it  is  much  more  fo,  to  deprive  him  of  life, 
 unlefs  he  has  forfeited  it  according  to  lav\^. 
 
 This  injury  is  fo  much  the  more  atrocious,  as  it  is 
 irreparable.  And  it  feems  to  me  very  much  to  be 
 doubted,  whether  human  authority  ought  in  reafon  to 
 be  extended  to  the  pardon  of  the  murder  of  the  inno- 
 cent. Scripture  is  exprefs,  "  that  he  who  fheds  man's 
 "  blood,  by  man  fball  his  blood  be  (lied." 
 
 There  feems  to  be  in  this  crime  fomevvhat  peculiarly 
 offeniive  to  Heaven,  in  that  the  Divine  Providence  does 
 fo  often,  by  mod  ftriking  an-d  wonderful  interpolitions, 
 bring  the  authors  of  it  to  light  in  a  manner  different 
 from  what  happens  in  other  cafes.  For,  of  the  num- 
 bers, who  lofe  their  lives  by  violence,  it  is  remarkable, 
 that  there  are  few  inftances  of  the  murderer^s  efcaping. 
 That  in  fo  great  and  wicked  a  city  as  London^  for  ex- 
 ample, there  fhouid  pot  every  year  be  many  people 
 miffing,  being  made  away  with  fecretly,  and  the  au- 
 thors of  their  death  never  found,  is  very  remarkable. 
 We  find  that  often  the  fagacity  of  dogs,  and  other  ani- 
 mals, and  even  inanimate  things,  have  been  the  occafion 
 of  bringing  this  foul  crime  to  light.  But  the  moll 
 common  means  of  the  difcovery  of  bloody  deeds  has  been 
 confcience,  which  acling  the  part  of  a  torturer,  has 
 forced  the  tongue,  through  extremity  of  anguifli,  to  dif- 
 clofc  the  fecret,  which  no  other  but  itfelf  could  bring 
 to  light. 
 
 It  being  by  pride  and  paffion,  that  men  are  incited  to 
 break  loofe  upon  one  another  in  ads  of  violence,  it  is 
 plain,  that  the  bed  method  of  preventing  our  falling, 
 into  them  is,  by  fubduing  thofe  fatal  paffions,  which 
 tranfport  us  beyond  the  power  and  ufe  of  reafon.     And 
 
 if 
 
Of  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  339 
 
 if  nothidg  tends  more  to  inflame  every  paffion,  than  the 
 life  of  ftroiig  liquors,  how  cautious  ought  we  to  be  of 
 indulging  the  maddening  draught,  which  may  drive  us 
 upon  extravagances,  we  could  not  in  our  cooler  hours 
 believe  ouvfelves  capable  of?  Cruelty,  even  to  the  brute 
 creation,  is  altogether  unjuftiftable,  much  more  to  our 
 fellow-creatures.  Nor  can  any  thinking  perlbn  believe 
 it  poflible,  that  a  mind  difpofed  to  barbarity,  or  infenli- 
 ble  of  the  mif-ries  of  our  fellow-beings,  can  be  at  all  fit 
 for  a  future  ilate,  in  which  goodnefs  is  to  prevail. 
 
 K  wife  man  will  dread  the  beginning  of  quarrels. 
 For  no  one  knows  where  a  quarrel,  once  begun,  may 
 end.  None  of  us  knows  how  much  of  the  evil  fpirit  is 
 either  in  himfelf  or  in  his  adverfary.  And  he,  who  be- 
 gins, is  in  confcience  anfwerable  for  all  the  confequences. 
 Nor  was  there  ever  a  falling  out  without  folly,  at  leaft  on 
 one  lide,  if  not  on  both.  Were  one  fure  the  woril  that 
 was  to  happen  would  be  the  ruffling  of  his  own  or  his 
 neighbour's  temper,  or  the  difcompofing  of  their  fpirits, 
 even  that  cannot  be  without  guilt.  And  is  an  empire 
 of  conlequence  enough  to  make  any  thinking  man  offend 
 God,  and  endanger  his  or  his  neighbour's  foul  ?  Trem- 
 ble, reader,  at  the  thought  of  being  fuddenly  fnatched 
 away,  (as  nothing  is  more  common  than  fudden  death) 
 and  lent  into  the  world  of  fpirits,  hot  from  a  conteft  with 
 a  fellow-creature,  and  fellow-chriftian. 
 
 Hurting  our  neighbour's  health  by  tempting  him  to 
 be  guilty  of  intemperance,  is  as  really  contrary  to  that 
 afteclion  we  ought  to  have  for  him,  as  wounding,  or 
 poifoning  him.  It  is  no  more  an  alleviation  of  the  guilt 
 of  feducing  him  into  debauchery,  that  it  may  not  cut 
 him  off  in  lefs  than  feveral  years,  (which  is  like  wife 
 more  than  can  be  certainly  affirmed)  than  it  is  lef^i 
 murder  to  poifon  in  the  Italian  manner,  than  Vv  ith  a 
 dofe  of  arfenic.  But  to  lead  a  fellow-creature  into  a 
 courfe  of  debauchery  is,  as  above  obferved,,  poifoning 
 both  foul  and  body  at  once. 
 
 To  grieve,  afflict,  or  terrify  a  fellow-creature  ueed- 
 lefsly,  or  unjuftly,  is  injuring  him  as  to  his  foul.  And 
 the  anguifn  of  tlie  mind  being  more  feverely  felt,  than 
 bodily  pain,  the  inPacling  the  former  upon  an  innocent 
 
 %  2  pcrfon 
 
340  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IIL 
 
 perfon  is  a  greater  a6t  of  cruelty.  It  is  therefore  fhock- 
 ing  to  think  how  one  half  of  mankind  fport  with  the 
 anguifh  of  the  other.  How  little  they  make  the  cafe  of 
 their  fellow-creatures  their  own,  or  coniider  what  they 
 muft  fuffer  from  their  wicked  afperfions.  mifreprefenta- 
 tions,  and  opprellive  and  injiiiious  treatment ;  which 
 bring  a  pain  proportioned  to  the  lenfibility  of  the  fuf- 
 ferer.  And  every  one  knows,  that  the  delicacy  of  fome 
 minds  renders  them  as  different  from  others,  as  the  tem- 
 per of  the  lamb  is  meeker  than  that  of  the  tiger. 
 
 But  the  moil  direcl  injury  againil  the  fpivitual  part 
 of  our  fellow-creature  is,  leading  him  into  vice;  whe- 
 ther that  be  done  by  means  of  foiicitation  ;  by  artfully 
 impofmg  on  his  judgment ;  by  powerful  compulfion  ^ 
 or  by  prevailing  example. 
 
 Some  tempers  are  fo  impotently  ductile,  that  they  can 
 refufe  nothing  to  repeated  foiicitation.  Whoever  takes; 
 the  advantage  of  fuch  perfons,  is  guilty  of  the  lovveft 
 bafenefs.  Yet  nothing  is  more  common,  than  for  the 
 debauched  part  of  our  fex  to  iliew  their  heroifm  by  a 
 poor  triumph  over  weak,  eaiy,  thoughtlefs  woman  !  no- 
 thing more  frequent,  than  to  hear  them  boaft  of  the 
 luin  of  that  virtue,  of  which  it  ought  to  be  their  pride 
 to  be  the  defenders.  *'  Poor  fool  1  fhe  loved  me,  and 
 "  therefore  could  refufe  me  nothing."  Bafe  coward  I 
 Doft  thou  bcafl:  thy  conquefl  over  one,  -vrho,  by  thy  own 
 confeflion,  was  difabled  for  refinance,  difabled  by  her 
 affecliou  for  thy  worthlefs  felf  ?  Does  affection  deferve 
 fuch  a  return  ?  Is  fuperior  underftanding,  or  rathex 
 deeper  craft,  to  be  ufed  againft  thoughiefs  iimplicity  ; 
 and  its  fliameful  fuccefs  to  be  boafled  of?  Doit  thou 
 pride  thyielf,  that  thou  haft  had  art  enough  to  decoy 
 the  harmlcfs  lamb  to  thy  hand,  that  thou  mighteil;  llied 
 its  blood  ? 
 
 To  call  good  evil,  and  evil  good,  is  in  Scripture  ilig- 
 matized  with  a  curfe.  And  to  put  out  the  bodily  eyes  is 
 not  fo  great  an  injury,  as  to  mifiead,  or  extinguiib  the 
 imderitanding,  and  impofe  upon  the  judgment  in  matters 
 of  right  and  wrong.  V/hoever  is  guilty  of  this  inhu- 
 man and  diabolical  wickednefs,  may  in  reafon  er.pect 
 to  have  the  foul,  he  has  been  the  ruin  of,  required  here- 
 after at  his  hands.  1  am 
 
OfV'vrUr.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  341 
 
 I  am  very  fufpicious,  that  many  perfons  in  eminent 
 ftations  have  very  little  notion  of  their  being  highly 
 criminal  in  the  light  of  God,  in  letting  a  bad  example 
 before  the  reft  ol"  mankind.  No  perfon,  who  thmks  at 
 all,  can  doubt,  whether  it  is  judihable  to  advife,  or  force 
 others  to  be  guilty  of  vice.  But  if  there  is  a  way  in- 
 comparably more  effeciual  and  alluring,  by  which  peo- 
 ple are  more  powerfully  drawn  into  wickednefs  ;  furcly 
 that  is  more  mifchievous  and  hurtful,  and  ought  moll 
 carefully  to  be  avoided. 
 
 Of  all  tyranny,  none  is  fo  inhuman,  as  where  men 
 ufe  their  power  over  others,  to  force  them  into  wicked- 
 nefs. The  bloody  perfecutor,  who  ufes  threats  and 
 punifhments,  prifons,  racks,  and  fires,  to  compel  the  un- 
 happy furfercr  to  make  fhipwreck  of  faith,  and  give  up 
 truth  and  a  good  confcience  ;  the  corrupt  rainiiler,  or 
 candidate,  who  bullies  theiinhappy  dependent  into  the 
 perjured  vote;  tliefe,  and  fuch  like,  are  in  the  w^^y  to- 
 ward being  qualified  for  becoming  furies  and  fiends  in 
 the  lower  regions.  For  who  is  fo  fit  for  the  place  of  a 
 tormentor,  to  (land  among  evil  fpirits,  and  plunge  the 
 emerging  fouls  deeper  in  bell-flames,  than  he,  who,  on 
 earth,  made  it  his  infernal  employment,  to  thruft  his 
 fellow-creatures  into  thoCe  ways,  which  lead  down  to 
 the  chambers  of  deftrudlion  ? 
 
 Reader,  if  thou  haft  ever  been  the  caufe  of  a  fellow- 
 creature's  guilt ;  if  thou  hail,  by  force  or  art,  betrayed 
 a  wretched  foul  into  vice,  and  acled  the  part  of  an  agent 
 of  Satan  ;  I  charge  thee  on  thy  foul,  put  not  off  thy  re- 
 pentance for  an  hour.  Prevent,  if  poflible,  the  final  ruin 
 thy  curfed  arts  tend  to  bring  upon  a  human  creature. 
 Endeavour  to  open  the  eyes,  which  thou  had  clofed  ; 
 to  enlighten  the  underfcanding  thou  haft  blinded  ;  and 
 to  lead  again  into  the  right  way  the  feet,  thou  haft 
 taught  to  wander  from  it.  If  thou  wilt  go  to  deftruc- 
 tion,  why  fliouldll  thou  drag  others  with  thee  ?  If  thy 
 ambition  prompts  thee  to  ruin  thy  own  foul,  fpare  that 
 of  thy  poor  fellow-creature,  who  has  no  concern  with 
 thy  fchemes.  Mull  thy  brother  have  a  place  in  the  in- 
 fernal regions,  to  get  thee  a  place  at  Court?  Take  back 
 the  damning  bribe  \    prevent  the  perjured  vote  :    think 
 
 X  3  iiovv 
 
34Z  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  III. 
 
 how  thou  will  bear  the  eternal  howlings  of  a  fpirit,  by 
 thy  temptations  funk  to  irrecoverable  perdition. 
 
 Befides  the  general  duty  of  benevolence  to  all,  who 
 partake  of  the  fame  common  nature,  which  is  indifpen- 
 fably  neceflary  in  the  nature  of  things  toward  the  very 
 being  of  fociety,  in  the  prefent  ftate,  and  for  fitting  us 
 for  entering  into  a  niore  extcnfive  fociety  hereafter ;  be- 
 fides the  general  benevolence  we  owe  to  all  our  fellow - 
 creatures,  it  is  evident,  that  we  owe  particular  duties  to 
 particular  perfons,  according  to  the  relations  and  con- 
 ne(flions  we  have  with  them.  This  propriety  is  founded 
 in  the  nature  of  things*,  and  is  felf-evident.  It  is  as  plain, 
 that  reverence  to  fupertors,  for  example,  is  proper,  as  that 
 all  the  angles  of  a  plain  triangle  are  equal  to  two  right 
 ones.  It  is  as  evident,  that  the  contempt  of  one  really 
 fuperior  to  us,  would  be  wrong,  as  that  it  would  be 
 wrong  to  fiy  that  twice  two  are  equal  to  fifty. 
 
 The  tirft,  and  mod  important  of  all  relative  focial 
 duties,  is  that  which  we  owe  to  our  country.  That  M'e 
 ought  to  Itudy  the  intereft  of  our  country,  is  plain  from 
 confidering,  that  the  love  of  our  families,  and  even  felt- 
 love,  cannot  be  purfued,  or  eftabliflied,  on  any  rational 
 footing,  but  what  will  extend  to  that  of  our  country  (for 
 it  is  impofiible  for  all  farhilies  and  individuals  to  be 
 happy  in  a  ruined  country)  and  from  confidering,  that, 
 if  no  perfon  loved  his  country,  but  every  individual  was 
 indifierent  about  its  interell,  no  country  could  lubfift"; 
 but  the  world  muft  quickly  come  to  an  end. 
 
 The  virtue  of  patriotifm  is  moft  indifpenfable  in  per- 
 fons in  high  ilations,  whofe  rank  gives  them  an  oppor- 
 tunity of  being  of  important  fervice  to  the  public  in- 
 tereft. Thefe  ought  to  conlider  themfelves  as  general 
 protedlors  and  fathers,  to  whofe  care  the  reft  of  mankind 
 are  by  Divine  Providence  committed;  and  ought  to 
 tremble  at  the  thought  of  betraying  fo  awful  a  trull. 
 And  the  intereft  of  a  country  .coniifts  briefly  in  its  be- 
 ing properly  fecured  againft  enemies  ;  in  its  being 
 governed  by  good  laws,  duly  executed  ;  in  its  being  fe- 
 cured in  its  liberties,  civil  and  religious,  the  boundaries 
 
 of 
 *  See  the  firft  Section  of  thia  third  book. 
 
()f  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  343. 
 
 of  which  laft  cannot  be  too  ample,  though  the  former 
 may  eafily  be  extended  to  licentioufnefs,  as  is  at  prefent 
 moll  flagrantly  tlie  cafe  in  England  ;  in  its  being  kept 
 -under  fuch  a  police,  and  llich  regulations,  as  may  tend 
 to  promote  health,  virtue,  public  an-d  private,  and  re-al 
 religion  ;  in  a  due  encouragement  of  commerce,  agri- 
 culture, manufactures,  learning  and  arts.  Whatever  a 
 nation  can  be  the  better  for  the  encouragement  of^  or 
 the  worfe  if  difcouraged,  is  the  province  of  governors 
 to  be  perfect  mafters  of,  and  to  fee  effedual  means  ufed 
 for  carrying  into  execution  every  falutary  fcheme. 
 With  refpe(5l  to  the  health  of  a  people,  for  example, 
 ihe  duty  of  governors  is  not  only  to  take  all  poffible  care 
 to  preventthe  importation  of  infedlions  from  foreign  parts, 
 but  that  the  people  have  it  not  in  their  povv'ef,  by  the  ufe 
 of  unwholefome  provilions  of  any  kind,  to  hurt  their  con- 
 Ititutions,  to  the  infeebiing  and  enervating  of  the  race, 
 as  is  moll  atrocioufly  and  extenlivejy  the  cafe  at  prefeni: 
 in  England^  by  means  of  too  low-priced  fpirituous  li- 
 quors. Again,  it  is  unqueftionably  the  duty  of  gover- 
 nors to  fee  to  it,  that  there  be  no  encouragement  given 
 to  idlenefs,  or  debauchery  ;  but  that,  on  the  contrary, 
 all  vices  hurtful  to  fociety  be  liable  to  every  kind  of 
 difcouragement.  That  there  be  iomething  found  for 
 every  creature  t^y  do,  who  has  any  meafure  of  health  or 
 llrength,  that  all  excufe  for  idlenefs  may  be  removed, 
 and  the  crime  of  doing  nothing  be  fev^rely  punifhable. 
 That  lewdnefs  and  prottiiution  be  at  leafl  driven  from 
 appearing  in  public  without  flrame  or  reilraint,  to  the 
 corrupting  of  the  youth  of  a  nation.  That  marriage, 
 the  main  fupport  of  llates,  be  in  the  moll  effectual  man- 
 ner encouraged,  and  celibacy,  after  mature  age  (one  of 
 the  woril  offences  againll  our  country)  fubjeeled  to  every 
 inconvenience  and  burdf^n.  That  ail  poffible  encourage- 
 ment be  given  to  every  perlon  who  enriches  or  adorns  his 
 country  by  any  valuable  difcovevy,  or  noble  production, 
 in  arts,  or  fciences,  and  particularly  to  thofe,  whofe  liter- 
 ary labours  tend  to  the  advancement  of  public  and  pri- 
 vate virtue,  and  religion.  Whatever  tends  to  the  increaie 
 of  luxury  and  extravagance,  ought  to  be  laid  under  fe- 
 Yere  rellraints,  and  heavy  taxes ;  as  in  general  all  taxes 
 
 Z  4    '  ought 
 
34-j  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  lil 
 
 ought  to  fall  on  the  luxury  and  fuperfluity  of  life,  while 
 induftry  and  frugality  efcape  free. 
 
 To  underftand  thoroughly  all  thefe  particulars,  and 
 to  endeavour  to  promote  and  improve  them^  is  the  pro- 
 per calling  of  perfons  of  rank  and  weight  in  a  nation. 
 And  whoever  makes  no  other  advantage  of  a  high  iia- 
 tion,  than  to  plunder  his  country  to  gratify  his  avarice, 
 to  raife  himfelf  and  his  creatures  to  afliuence,  or  to  in- 
 dulge fenfuallty,  is  unworthy  of  the  honourable  rank 
 he  holds;  is  a  treacherous  betrayer  of  his  facred  trull; 
 and  inftead  of  honour  deferves  the  contempt  of  all  meii 
 of  virtue  and  public  fpirit.  For  the  true  dignity  of 
 high  life  confifts  in  a  fuperior  elevation  of  mind  ;  more 
 extenlive  improvements  in  knowledge  ;  a  greater  con- 
 tempt of  v.'hatever  is  unv/orthy  ;  a  more  enlarged  bene- 
 volence to  mankind  ;  a  more  uncorrupted  integrity  ; 
 and  a  more  fublime  way  of  thinking,  fpeaking,  and  ad- 
 ing,  than  is  to  be  feen  in  other  men.  Whoever  is  not  iu 
 thefe  refpecis  fuperior  to  the  reft  of  mankind,  may  be 
 richer,  but  can  with  no  propriety  of  fpeech  be  faid  to 
 be  gieater,  than  others.  For  it  is  not  the  drefs,  the  fta- 
 tion,  or  the  fortune,  but  the  mind,  that  is  the  man. 
 Therefore  a  little  mind  makes  a  mean  man  ;  a  great 
 mind  a  great  man. 
 
 Though  it  is  chiefly  by  the  great,  that  the  intereft  of 
 a  nation  is  to  be  confulted  and  fupported,  it  is  certain, 
 that  every  perfon  has  it  in  his  power  to  ferve  his  coun- 
 try leis  or  .more.  Whoever  plants  a  tree,  inclofes  a  field, 
 '  builds  a  houle,  is  the  caufe  of  a  child's  being  brought 
 into  the  world,  and  educated  for  becoming  a  valuable 
 member  of  fociety ;  whoever,  in  fliort,  fills  a  ufeful  place 
 in  life,  fervcs  his  country  more  than,  five  hundred  of 
 thofe  idle  reclufes,  and  holy  drones,  with  which  popifli 
 countries  fwarm.  Efpecially,  men  of  abilities,  in  the 
 moll  private,  ftations,  are  capable  of  ferving  their  coun- 
 try, if  not  by  adion,  yet  by  fuggelling  ufeful  hints  to 
 thofe,  whofe  ftations  give  them  an  opportunity  of  action  j 
 and  of  improving,  by  their  converfation  and  writings^ 
 the  minds  and  manners  of  their  countrymen. 
 
 The  true  love  of  our  country  will  fliew  itfelf  in  our 
 preferring  the  public  to  our  own  private  intereft,  where- 
 
 evei; 
 
QfVlrtiw.)  HUMAN  NATURl!.  345 
 
 %'er  tbey  come  in  competition.  In  a  confcientious  obe- 
 dience  to  the  laws,  though  to  our  own  particular  difad- 
 yantage.  .  In  a  proper  reverence  to  our  governors,  tfoe- 
 cially  the  fupreme  ;  even  in  cafes  v/here  we  do  not  fee 
 enough,  (as  how  fliould  perfons  in  private  ftations  :)  to 
 be  able  to  explain  to  ourfelves,  or  others,  the  wiidom 
 of  all  their  meafures. 
 
 It  is  with  a  thorough  concern,  I  cannot  help  remarlv-- 
 jng  here,  that  the  voy  contrary  of  all  this  fecms  to  be 
 the  rule,  by  which  the  people  of  Z/^^/^/zi-^concUicl  them- 
 felves  in  the  prefent  age.  Is  it  not  notorious^  that  the 
 virtue  of  public  fpirit  is  become  little  elfe  than  a  fubjed: 
 of  ridicule  ?  That  venality  has  poifoned  all  ranks,  from 
 the  bribed  voter  in  a  country-borough,  upwards  to  the 
 candidate  for  a  place  in  the  great  aifembly  of  the  na- 
 tion ?  The  enormous  expences  beftovved,  and  horrible 
 perjury  committed,  in  carrying  elections;  with  the 
 numerous  controverted  elections  which  are  from  time  to 
 time  the  fubjed  of  examination  before  the  houfe  ;  and 
 the  variety  of  regulations  found  neceffary  to  be  made 
 for  reftraining  bribery  and  corruption  (though  the  moli: 
 efFedlual  regulation,  I  mean,  of  voting  in  all  cafes  by 
 ballot,  which  the  wife  flates  of  antiquity  found  necef- 
 fary,  has  not  been  tried)  all  this  Pnews  too  flagrantly, 
 to  what  a  fatal  extent  this  ruinous  and  deftrudive  mif- 
 chief  reaches.  Nor  is  there  any  hope  of  an  effectual 
 cure  for  the  evil,  while  fuch  a  pernicious  maxim  in  po- 
 litics as  the  following  is  held,  I  had  almcit  laid,  etta- 
 blilhed  ;  That  it  is  lawful  to  bribe  for  the  good  of  the 
 nation,  (as  they  very  improperly  fpeak)  in  order  to  be 
 on  even  terms  with  the  enemies  of  the  nation.  The 
 Jacobite,  or  Tory  party  (fay  our  politicians)  will  gee 
 themfelves  elecfted  into  parliament  by  bribery  :  Why 
 mutt  not  the  gentlemen  of  revolution-principles  endea- 
 vour to  defeat  them  by  the  fame  means?  To  expofe 
 this  fatal  doctrine,  which  is  fometimes  defended  by 
 very  well-meaning  men,  let  it  be  confidered,  firit,  that 
 Jacobitifm,  or  Toryifm,  in  the  fouthren  part  of  the  na- 
 tion, is  in  fad  little  more  than  another  word  for  the 
 party  who  are  out,  and  would  be  in.  There  arc  few 
 jr.ea  of  the  Icalt  fenfe,  and  knowledge  of  the  world,  on 
 
 this 
 
34^  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IIL 
 
 this  fide  the  Highlands  of  Scotland,  who  do  in  fober  ear- 
 ned wiih  to  fee  a  papift  on  the  Britijl)  throne.  Slavery, 
 civil  and  religious,  will  hot  go  down  with  thofe  who 
 have  long  enjoyed  the  fweets  of  liberty.  And  if  Jaco- 
 birifm  and  Toryifm  be  little  more  than  a  bugbear,  and 
 the  virtue  of  a  people,  the  only  fure  foundation  of  go- 
 vernment and  national  happinefs,  is  to  be  corrupted  and 
 ruined  by  a  contention  between  two  fets  of  men,  either 
 of  which  might  be  as  likely  to  purfue  the  intereft  of  the 
 nation  as  the  other,  it  is  plain,  that  both  fides  are  guilty ; 
 the  pretended  Whigs,  who  are  in,  and  the  pretended 
 Tories,  who  are  out ;  it  being  equally  contrary  to  vir- 
 tue, and  to  the  laws  of  the  land,  to  bribe  for  one  fide 
 as  for  another.  But,  fuppofing  the  cafe  to  be  exactly 
 as  firft  put,  and  that  all,  who  pietend  to  be  difaffeded, 
 were  really  lo  in  their  hearts ;  and  that  their  inclina- 
 tion, and  their  power,  to  fubvert  the  conflitution,  were 
 much  greater  than  they  are  ;  it  is  evident,  that  to  do 
 a  pofitive  evil,  that  an  uncertain  good  may  come,  is  di- 
 reclly  contrary  both  to  reafon  and  religion.  For  the 
 real  friends  of  liberty  to  oppofe  the  enemies  of  our 
 country,  by  bribery  and  corruption,  is  directly  iniquitous 
 and  impious.  For,  to  proceed  in  that  manner  is  to  con- 
 found the  immutable  nature  of  right  and  wrong,  to 
 throw  down  the  facred  barriers,  eftabliQied  by  Divine 
 authority  for  guarding  the  awful  laws  of  virtue  from 
 violation,  which  are  to  be  held  in  the  utmoll  reverence, 
 and  on  no  account  to  be  broke  through,if  not  only  a  king- 
 dom fhould  fuffer  a  revolution  ;  but  if  the  folar  fyltem, 
 or  whole  vifible  unlverfe,  were  to  go  to  wreck.  For 
 one  a6l  of  perjury,  or  other  grofs  deviation  from  virtue, 
 is  more  oppofite  to  the  Divine  Nature,  and  oeconomy 
 of  the  world,  than  the  extinction  of  a  thoufand  funs, 
 with  the  deftruclion  of  all  their  planets.  But  befides 
 all  this,  what  can  be  more  abfurd,  than  to  talk  of  fup- 
 porting  a  ftate  by  vice,  the  very  means  which  have 
 proved  the  ruin  of  all  the  ftates  that  ever  have  funk  ; 
 and  without  which  no  ftate  could  be  brought  to  ruin  ? 
 Alas,  does  it  become  fuch  poor  fliort-fighted  creatures 
 as  we  are,  to  projed  fchemes  for  ourfelves,  to  violate 
 the  eternal  laws  of  virtue,  in  order,  foriboth,  to  put  it 
 
 IP 
 
■  IfVn-tue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  347 
 
 in  the  power  of  Divine  Providence  to  do  what  it  could 
 not  without  oar  affiftance  ?  Can  any  politician  think, 
 that  promoting  bribery  or  perjury  are  hkely  to  gain  us 
 the  Divine  Protedion  ?  or  that  the  kingdom  can  (laod 
 independent  of  the  Divine  Protedion  ?  or  that  it  can 
 ftand  without  virtue  ?  Thefe  are  deplorable  expedients. 
 Like  opiates  in  an  acute  diftemper,  they  ^uli  things 
 into  peace  for  a  (liort  time,  while  they  flowly,  but  furely, 
 
 wear  out  the  ilrength  and  vitals  of  the  conititution. 
 
 O  virtue  !   O  my  country  I 
 
 Is  it  not  alfo  notorious,  that  the  bulk  of  our  laws, 
 through  the  criminal  negligence,  or  timidity,  of  thofe, 
 in  A\'hofe  hands  the  executive  power  is  lodged,  and 
 through  the  licentioufnefs  of  the  people,  who  Teem  to 
 think  it  the  privilege  of /ree-born  EngUjhmen  to  break 
 their  own  laws,  are,  inftead  of  a  necellary  reftraint,  be- 
 come a  mere  bugbear  ?  Above  all  things,  that  law-ma- 
 kers are  fometimes  law-breakers,  is  a  fhocking  accufa- 
 tion  to  be  laid  againft  perfons  in  eminent  ilations. 
 That  the  fame  perfons  in  their  legiflative  capacity 
 fliould  concur  to  the  making  of  regulations  for  the  fup- 
 preffion  of  the  deftrudive  practices  of  fmuggling,  gam- 
 ing, unduly  influencing  eledions,  and  the  like,  and  in 
 their  private  capacity  fliould  be  the  promoters  of  thofe 
 ruinous  vices  ;  is  doing  what  they  can  to  turn  govern- 
 ment into  a  fai'ce,  and  reduce  a  nation  to  a  Hate  of 
 anarchy. 
 
 Is  it  not  monfiirous,  that,  by  means  of  the  raadnefs 
 and  infolence  of  party,  fuch  a  degree  of  arrogant  and 
 feditious  virulence  is  worked  up  in  the  fpirits  of  the 
 people,  that  the  lowed  of  the  mob  thinks  himfelf  wife 
 enough  to  take  to  talk  the  governors  of  the  Hate,  and 
 affumes  the  liberty,  over  his  cups,  to  rail  at  the  legiila- 
 tors  of  his  country  ;  by  which  means,  the  beil  conllitu- 
 tioned  kingdom  upon  earth  feems  haftening  to  a  Itate 
 of  confunon ;  while  the  people's  reverence  for  lawful 
 authority,  whereby  obedience  fubfifts,  is  deitroyed,  the 
 meafures  of  government  are  embarraffed  ;  and  our  go- 
 vernors difcouraged  from  attempting  to  alter,  or  new- 
 model  anything,  that  maybe  amifs  ;  fince  notiiing  can 
 "j^e  done  without  clamour  and  difturbance,  and  laws, 
 *'  when 
 
34$  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  III. 
 
 when  enaded,  are,  through  the  perverfenefs  of  the  peo- 
 ple, ot'  very  little  efficacy. 
 
 Thefe  are  not  the  effedls  of  the  love  of  our  country. 
 Nor  the  infamous  practice  of  fmuggling,  and  other  mean 
 arts,  by  which  the  laws  forraifing  a  revenue  for  defray- 
 ing the  neceffdry  expences  of  government,  are  evaded. 
 Yet  it  is  notorious,  that  the  avowed  principal  of  num-. 
 bers  of  perfons  in  trade,  is,  That  all  is  well  got,  that  is 
 got  by  cheating  the  king,  as  they  abfurdly  talk.  For 
 defrauding  the  public  revenue,  is  in  effed:  defrauding 
 the  people,  who  pay  it,  and  making  it  neceflary  for  the 
 government  to  lay  additional  taxes^  and  to  clog  and  in- 
 cumber trade  and  induftry,  to  make  up  the  deficiencies 
 occafioned  by  the  depredations  of  a  fet  of  lawlefs  people, 
 the  plague  and  ruin  of  fair  traders.  It  is  amazing, 
 that  rational  creatures  can  contrive  fo  effedually  to  blind 
 their  reafon,  and  ftupity  their  confcience,  as  to  bring 
 themfelves  to  argue,  that  though  it  is  confelTtdly  unjuili- 
 fiable  and  wicked  in  a  fon  to  difobey  his  parent,  yet 
 there  is  no  harm  in  difobeying  that  authority,  which  is 
 higher  than  the  parental,  I  mean,  that  of  the  law  of 
 the  land;  that,  though  it  is  wrong  to  cheat  or  lie,  there 
 is  no  harm  in  taking  a  falfe  oath  at  the  cullom-houfe, 
 by  which  the  guilt  of  perjury  is  incurred  ;  the  reve- 
 nue, or  more  properly  the  nation,  robbed ;  and  the 
 fair  trader  injured. 
 
 People  may  deceive  themfelves,  as  they  pleafe  ;  But 
 there  is  hardly  any  wotfe  fpecies  of  vice,  than  difobe-, 
 dience  and  infolence  to  fuprerae  lawful  authority. 
 Nor  will  any  perfon  be  fit  for  a  future  Itate  of  peace, 
 regularity,  and  perfeft  obedience  to  the  univerfal  Go- 
 vernor, (without  which  there  can  be  no  happinefs)  who 
 has  in  this  ftate  habituated  hi mfelf  to  lawlefs  oppolitiou 
 and  contempt  of  government. 
 
 To  raife  an  oppofition  or  rebellion  in  a  country  againO: 
 the  fupreme  authority,  except  upon  moft  powerful  caufes 
 find  motives,  is  a  crime  of  as  horrid  and  complicated 
 a  kind,  as  any  to  which  human  wickednefs  is  capable 
 of  proceeding.  For  the  confequences  of  a  general  diftur- 
 bance  in  a  ftate,  are  the  perpetration  of  ail  kinds  of 
 iniquity.     And  where   fo   dreadful  a  confequence   is 
 
 forefeeHj^ 
 
OfVinuc.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  34^ 
 
 forefeen,  it  is  evident,  nothing  kfs  than  the  prevention 
 of  a  total  fubverfion  of  rights  and  privilege?,  civil  and 
 religious,  of  which  the  laft  is  much  the  mod  impor- 
 tant,  is  a  fufficient  plea  for  difturbing  the  general  peace. 
 
 This  was  confeffedly  the  cafe  at  the  Revolution  in 
 1688.  But  thofe  men,  who  delight  in  mifreprefenting 
 a  government,  and  making  them  odious  and  vile  in  the 
 eyes  of  tlie  people,  and  do  all  they  can  to  thwart  and 
 embarrals  their  meafures,  merely  becaufe  themfclvcs 
 have  no  ihare  in  the  emoluments  of  place  and  power, 
 are  the  pelts  of  fociety. 
 
 One  of  the  greateft  curfes  of  our  nation,  and  of  li- 
 berty in  general,  is  that  of  our  unhnppy  divilions  and 
 parties  in  religion  and  politics.  As  for  the  firft,  it  is  a 
 fubjed;  of  too  fericns  and  important  a  nature  to  be  made 
 a  mere  badge  of  fadion,  or  a  bone  of  contention.  The 
 defign  of  religion  is  to  improve  and  dignify  our  natures, 
 to  corred:  our  errors  in  judgment,  and  to  regulate  our 
 lives.  And  whoever  applies  it  as  a  tool  of  flate,  as  an 
 artifice  for  aggrandizing  himfelf  or  his  friends,  and  a 
 cloke  to  conceal  his  fecular  views,  is  guilty  of  profti- 
 tuting  the  moil  facred  thing  in  the  world  to  the  vilell 
 ufes.  As  for  political  parties,  it  is  notorious,  that  thofe 
 who  afiiime  to  themfelves  the  moft  fplendid  titles  of  be- 
 ing on  the  patriot  fide,  or  country-intereft,  and  againft 
 the  court,  as  their  cant  is,  generally  make  a  clamour 
 for  pretended  liberty,  and  the  good  of  their  country, 
 only  to  have  their  mouths  Hopped  with  a  place  or  apen- 
 lion  ;  and  that,  on  the  other  hand,  thofe  who  fl^and  up 
 in  defence  of  all  the  meafures  of  thofe  in  power,  with- 
 out diitinclion,  only  do  fo  with  a  viev/  to  get,  or  to 
 keep  fome  emolument.  As  it  is  inconceivable  that 
 either  one  or  the  other  party  (liould  be  conftantly  in 
 the  right,  or  invariably  in  the  wrong,  you  may  con- 
 clude, that  whoever  inclines  univerfally  for  or  againd 
 either. fide,  without  ever  altering  his  opinion,  is  either 
 a  man  of  very  mean  abilities,  or  has  fome  indire6l 
 fcheme  in  view.  The  trimmer,  who  gives  his  vote 
 fometimes  with  one  fide,  fometimes  with  the  other,  ac- 
 cording to  the  view  he  has  of  the  confequcnces,  is  the 
 Oiily  man  of  integrity.     And  I  cannot  help  advifing  my 
 
 readers 
 
350  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  III 
 
 readers  to  look  upon  all  parties,  and  all  who  make  either 
 religion  or  politics  a  party-affair,  in  the  fame  light,  and 
 to  keep  clear  of  all  fides  alike  ;  making  it  their  bufinefs 
 to  confult  the  real  good  of  their  country,  and  the  reA 
 welfare  of  their  fouls,  without  any  eye  to  the  fordid, 
 gains  of  corruption,  or  any  defire  to  tight  the  battles  of 
 either  party. 
 
 To  conclude,  our  duty  to  our  country  com.prehends 
 all  the  relative  duties  ;  and  we  are  to  facrifice  private 
 intereft,  family,  and  life  itfelf  to  it,  when  called  upon; 
 and  are  to  obey  its  laws  in  all  cafes,  where  they  do  not 
 clafh  with  the  only  fuperior  authority  in  the  univerfe,  I 
 mean  the  Divine. 
 
 Next  under  the  authority  of  national  government  is 
 the  parental.  The  propriety  and  neceffity  of  fiibmif- 
 jion  to  parents  appears  from  confidering,  that  it  is  evi- 
 dently necelTary,  that  fome  perfon,  or  perfons,  fhould 
 undertake  the  care  of  children  in  the  helplefs  time  of 
 life  ;  and  that  none  are  fo  proper  as  the  paren^ts.  In 
 confequence  of  this,  it  is  necelTary  that  children,  before 
 they  come  to  the  ufe  of  reafon,  be  governed  by  autho- 
 rity, and  there  is  none  fo  natural  as  that  of  parents ;  it  is 
 therefore  theirpartto  return  the  reciprocal  duties  of  love, 
 gratitude,  reverence,  and  obedience  to  thofe  who  have 
 taken  care  of  them,  when  no  one  elfe  would  undertake 
 that  office.  And  it  being  once  made  the  appointed 
 courfe  and  order  of  things,  the  law  of  filial  duty  is  not 
 to  be  broke  through  by  the  children  on  account  of  a 
 failure  in  the  parents  in  difcharging  their  duty  ;  nor, 
 contrariwife,  are  parents  to  give  up  the  care  of  their 
 children,  though  they  fliould  turn  out  untowardly. 
 Obedience  to  parents  extends  to  all  things  that  are  con- 
 fiftent  with  the  laws  of  our  country,  and  of  God,  both 
 which  authorities  are  fuperior  to  that  of  parents. 
 
 The  duty  of  parents  to  their  children  is  briefly  to 
 take  care  that  proper  provifion  be  made  for  their  bodily 
 interefl:,  by  food,  clothing,  and  education  ;  and  more 
 efpeciaily  for  that  of  their  minds,  by  forming  them,  from 
 the  earlieft  years,  to  virtue  and  religion. 
 
 The  duty  of  fpiritual  pafi;ors  to  their  people,  is  to  do 
 
 whatever  is  in  their  power  for  the  good  of  the  fouk 
 
 2  committed 
 
Of  virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  35I 
 
 committed  to  their  charge,  by  preaching,  catechififtg, 
 couDielling,  or  writing.  However  improper  it  may  be 
 thought  for  a  layman  to  enlarge  upon  this  relative  duty, 
 it  cannot  be  improper  to  refer  to  one,  from  whom  di- 
 rections on  this  head  will  come  with  unexceptionable 
 authority  ;  I  mean  the  apoftle  Faul  in  his  Epiftles  to 
 Timothy.  The  duty  of  people  to  their  pallors,  is  to  (hew 
 them  a  great  deal  more  reverence  and  gratitude  than  is 
 commonly  done  in  Ejigland, 
 
 The  duty  of  inftructors  of  youth  is  briefly  to  fill  the 
 place  of  parents  in  forming  thofe  configned  to  their  care 
 by  the  parents,  to  ufefulnefs  in  life,  and  happinefs  here- 
 after. The  duty  of  young  perfons  to  their  governors 
 and  teachers  is  obedience,  and  diligence  in  endeavour- 
 ing to  improve  themfelves,  while  under  their  care;  and 
 gratitude  and  love  to  thofe,  by  whofe  faithful  diligence 
 they  had  the  opportunity  of  becoming  wife  and  good 
 men.  And  the  duty  of  gratitude  to  parents  and  teachers 
 on  this  account  will  be  binding  upon  thofe  who  have 
 been  the  objedts  of  their  caie,  not  only  for  life,  but  to 
 eternity. 
 
 The  duty  of  mailers  to  fervants,  is  to  pay  them  ac- 
 cording to  engagement ;  to  treat  them  as  fellow-crea- 
 tures, though  in  an  inferior  ilation ;  and  to  take  care,, 
 that  they  have  opportunities  of  knowing  their  duty  and 
 means  of  happinefs.  That  of  fervants  to  mafters  is 
 faithfulnefs,  diligence,  and  obedience  in  ail  lawful 
 cafes. 
 
 The  duty  of  huibands  to  wives,  is  the  tenderell  love, 
 and  warmeft  deiire  of  their  happinefs  in  life,  and  to 
 eternity.  That  of  wives  to  huibands,  befides  reciprocal 
 love,  takes  in  obedience  in  all  lawful  thing?.  This 
 arifes  from  the  conlideration  of  the  priority  of  creation, 
 and  fuperior  dignity  of  the  male  fex,  to  which  Nature 
 has  given  the  greater  ftrength  of  mind  and  body,  and 
 therefore  fitted  them  for  authority.  But  as,  on  one 
 hand,  it  is  not  the  part  of  a  good  wife  to  conteft  tlia 
 authority  of  her  hulband,  fo  neither  is  it  of  a  good  huf- 
 band  to  ftand  up  for  the  privilege  of  his  fex,  while  he 
 ihews  little  of  the  tendernefs  which  is  due  to  the 
 weaker.     This  is,  in  (hort,  a  ftiing  nover  to  be  touched ; 
 
 for 
 
3-2  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  lit 
 
 for^it  always  introduces  diicord,  and  interrupts  the  ma- 
 trimonial harmony. 
 
 Love  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  whole  duty  mutually 
 owing  by  collateral  relations,  as  brothers,  fillers,  and 
 the  like.  And  fuch  perfons  may  eafily  know  whether 
 they  do  their  duty  to  one  another,  by  conlidering  how 
 people  behave  to  thofe  they  really  love. 
 
 In  friendHiip,  of  v/hich  Ihave  treated  in  the  firflboo\% 
 the  duties  are  niutnal  love,  fidelity,  fecrecy,  and  a  de- 
 fire  of  promoting  one  another's  happinefs  both  fpirituai 
 and  temporal.  Virtue  is  the  only  foundation  of  friend- 
 fiiip.  The  commerce  of  the  wicked  is  rather  to  be 
 called  a  combination  or  confpiracy  againll  mankind;^ 
 than  friendfiiip. 
 
 The  duty  of  the  rich  to  the  poor,  is  feeding  the  hun- 
 gry, clothing  the  naked,  vifiting  the  lick,  and  in  general 
 i'upplying  the  wants  of  the  neceifitous.  Thofe  to  whom 
 the  Divine  Providence  has  been  difcinguiiliingly  boun- 
 tiful, are  to  confider  themfelves  as  ftewards  of  the  good 
 gifts  of  Heaven,  which  they  are  not  to  lavifh  away 
 upon  their  own  extravagant  lulls,  but  to  diftributc  to 
 their  diftrelTed  brethren.  Nor  ought  they  to  think  of 
 this  as  an  ad:  of  generofity,  or  almoll  of  fupererogation, 
 as  many  feem,  by  their  ollentatious  way  of  giving  cha- 
 rity, to  do.  It  is  not  what  they  may  do,  or  let  alone* 
 It  is  not  to  be  carried  to  what  length  they  pleafe,  and 
 no  farther.  They  are  expeded  to  give  all  they  can 
 give,  and  then  to  think  they  have  done  only  what  they 
 ought.  Since  to  do  lefs,  if  we  will  take  our  Saviour's 
 own  word  for  it,  is  a  negied:  which  will  exclude  from 
 future  blifs.  There  is  indeed  great  prudence  to  be  ufed, 
 that  a  judicious  choice  of  objects  may  be  made,  and  that 
 the  charity  given  may  not  prove  a  prejudice,  inilead  of 
 an  advantage.  If  what  is  given  ferves  to  fupport  in 
 idlenefs  and  debauchery,  it  had  mueh  better  be  with- 
 held. Care  is  alfo  to  be  taken,  that  our  charity  be  not 
 given  for  fafliion,  cflentation,  or  any  other  view,  but 
 obedience  to  God,  and  benevolence  to  our  fellow-crea- 
 tures. In  as  far  as  any  other  confideration  has  influ- 
 ence, in  fo  far  the  real  excellence  of  fuch  good  works 
 is  IciTcned  in  the  fight  of  Him,  who  fearches  the  heart. 
 3  The 
 
tjfVuiiu^.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  353 
 
 The  duty  of  the  poor,  is  gratitude  to  their  benefac- 
 tors; and  induftiy,  in  endeavouring  as  much  as  they 
 can  to  lighten  the  burden  of  their  own  fupport  to  thofe 
 who  conrribute  to  if. 
 
 Propriety  and  rectitude  require,  that  the  learned  and 
 wife  ufe  their  endeavours  to  inftrucl  and  advife  the  ig- 
 norant and  unthinking.  And  in  general,  rhat  every 
 perfon  employ  his  peculiar  talent  or  advantage  for  the 
 moll  extenfive  ufefulnefs.  It  is  with  this  view  that  fuch 
 remarkable  differences  are  made  in  the  gifts  of  mind 
 and  fortune,  which  different  perfons  fliare.  Thefe  are 
 parts  of  their  rclpedive  trials;  and  they  will  be  judged 
 according  to  the  ufe  they  have  made  of  them. 
 
 Our  duty  to  benefadors  is  evidently  love  and  grati- 
 tude. Even  to  enemies  we  owe,  according  to  the  Chri- 
 ftian  law,  of  which  afterwards,  forgivenefs  and  inter- 
 ceflion  with  Heaven  for  them;  which  alfowe  are  obliged 
 to  for  all  our  fellow-creatures. 
 
 The  reclitude  or  propriety  of  thefe  feveral  obligations 
 being  felf-evident,  it  would  be  only  wafting  time  to  take 
 the  pains  to  eftablifti  it  by  arguments. 
 
 The  infinitely  wife  Governor  of  the  univerfe  has 
 placed  us  in  this  ftate,  and  engaged  us  in  fuch  a  va- 
 riety of  coiinetlions  with,  and  relations  to  one  another, 
 on  purpofe  to  habituate  us  to  a  fenfe  of  duty,  and  love 
 of  obedience  and  regularity.  The  more  duties  we  have 
 to  do  in  cur  prefent  ftate  of  difcipline,  the  more  occa- 
 fion  we  have  for  watchfulnefs  and  diligence,  and  a  due 
 exertion  of  every  noble  power  of  the  mind.  And  the 
 more  practice  we  have  of  exerting  our  powers,  the 
 Wronger  they  muft  grow  ;  and  the  more  we  pradife 
 obedience,  the  more  tradable  and  obedient  we  muft  na- 
 turally become  ;  and  to  be  obedient  to  the  Supreme 
 Governor  of  the  u'orld,  is  the  very  perfedion  of  every 
 created  nature.  Again,  the  various  connedions  among 
 mankind,  and  the  different  duties  refulting  from  them, 
 naturally  tend  to  vv  ork  in  us  a  fettled  and  extenfive  be- 
 nevolence for  our  fellow-beings,  and  to  habituate  us  to 
 think  and  ad  with  tendernefs,  forbettrance,  and  aftec- 
 tion  toward  them.  And  it  is  evident,  that  this  fablime 
 and  godlike  difpofition  cannot  be  too  much  cultivated 
 
 A  a  W 
 
3^4  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  III. 
 
 We  can  never  be  in  a  flate,  in  which  it  will  not  be  for 
 our  advantage,  and  for  the  advantage  of  all  the  other 
 beings  with  whom  we  may  be  connected,  that  we  be 
 difpofed  to  extenfive  and  unbounded  benevolence  for 
 one  another.  It  is  obvious,  that  a  happy  fociety,  in 
 •which  hatred  and  iil-will  (hould  univerlklly  prevail,  is 
 p.n  inconceivable  and  contradidory  idea.  Whatever 
 may  be  the  nature  of  the  ftatcs  we  may  be  hereafter  de- 
 ligned  for,  it  is  evident  we  Ihall  be  the  fitter  for  them, 
 for  having  cultivated  in  our  minds  an  exteniive  univerfal 
 love  of  all  other  beings.  But  if  we  fuppole,  what  feeras 
 agreeable  to  Scripture  views,  as  well  as  to  reafon,  that 
 thofe  who  Ihall  be  found  worthy  of  a  future  life,  are 
 to  be  railed  to  llations,  not  of  indolence  and  inactivity, 
 but  of  extenfive  ufefulnefs  in  the  creation,  fuch  as  we 
 fuppofe  to  be  filled  at  prefent  by  angels,  I  mean,  of 
 guardians  and  governors  over  beings  of  lower  ranks,  du- 
 ring their  itate  of  trial  and  difcipline  *,  if  this  be  a  rea- 
 fonable  fuppofition,  it  is  plain,  that  the  fublime  virtue 
 of  benevolence  cannot<be  carried  too  far.  'And  this  fets 
 forth  the  Divine  Wifdom  in  placing  us  in  a  ftate  in 
 which  we  have  fuch  opportunities  of  being  habituated 
 to  a  difpofition  fo  ufeful  and  necelTary  for  all  order$ 
 of  rational  beings  throughout  all  periods  of  their  ex- 
 igence. 
 
 It  will  be  the  reader's  wifdom  here  carefully  to  exa- 
 mine his  conduct,  that  he  may  know  whether  he  ads 
 the  part  of  a  valuable  and  ufeful  niember  of  fociety.  If 
 he  has  wrought  into  his  foul  a  kind,  a  generous,  and 
 extenfive  benevolence  toward  all  his  fellow-creatures, 
 whether  in  high  or  low  ftations,  whether  rich  or  poor, 
 whefher  foreigners  or  countrymen,  whether  of  his  own 
 leligion  or  any  other,  learned  or  unlearned,  virtuous  or 
 vicious,  friends  or  enemies ;  if  he  finds  it  recommen- 
 dation enough  to  his  regard  or  affedtion,  that  it  is  a  fel- 
 low-creature who  wants  his  affiftance,  a  being  produced 
 by  the  fame  Almighty  hand  which  created  himfelf ;  if 
 he  earnellly  wilhes,  and  is  at  all  times  ready  to  promote 
 the  good  of  his  fellow-creatures  by  all  means  in  his 
 power,  by  his  riches,  his  advice,  his  intereft,  his  la- 
 bour, at  any  time,  feafonable  or  unfeafonable,  in  a  way 
 
 agreeable 
 
t^fVlrtitr.)  HUMAN  NATURE^  355 
 
 agreeable  to  his  own  particular  temper  and  inclination, 
 or  in  a  manner  that  may  be  lefs  fuitable  to  it;  if  he 
 finds  himfilf  readjwith  the  open  arms  of  forgivenefs  to 
 receive  his  enemy,  the  moment  he  appears  difpofed  to 
 rrpentence  and  reconciliation;  if  he  finds  that  it  would 
 be  a  pleafure  to  him  to  do  good  to  thofe  who  have  in- 
 jured him,  though  his  goodnefs  fliould  never  be  known; 
 if  he  finds  that  he  is  in  no  part  of  his  private  devotions 
 raoi*e  zealous  than  when  he  prays  frorn  his  heart  to  Him 
 who  fearches  all  hearts,  that  his  enemy  may  be  par- 
 doned, reformed,  and  made  as  happy  hereafter  as  him- 
 felf ;  if  he  finds  that  one  difappointment  or  abufe  of  his 
 goodnefs-,  or  ten  fuch  difcouragements,  do  not  ccol  his 
 ardour  for  the  good  of  mankind  :  that  he  does  not  im- 
 mediately fall  out  of  conceit  with  a  pubiic-fpn-ited  de- 
 fign,  becaufe  of  its  difficulties  or  uncertainty  of  faccefs, 
 but  that  he  can  ftand  the  raillery  of  thofe  narrow  fouls, 
 who  cannot  rife  to  hispitchof  difinterefted  benevolence; 
 and  that,  tho'  he  goes  on  refolutely,  and  without  weary- 
 ing in  well-doing,  he  does  not  do  it  from  pride  or  felf-fuf- 
 ficiencVj  but  from  real  well-meant  goodnefs  of  heart 
 and  defign  ;  if  he  does  not  fearch  fi3r  excufes,  but  con- 
 fiders  himfelf  as  obliged  to  be  always  endeavouring  to 
 gain  fome  kind  and  beneficial  end,  without  regard  to 
 its  being  more  or  lefs  diredlly  in  his  way,  or  more  or 
 lefs  promifing  of  fuccefs,  if  it  is  the  beft  he  can  do  at 
 the  time,  and  if  no  one  elfe  will  do  it  better,  or  en-^ 
 gage  in  it  at  all  ;  and  that  after  all  he  confiders  himi'elf 
 as  an  unprofitable  fervant,  as  having  doKe  fiiill  only  his 
 indifpenfable  duty ;  if  the  reader  finds  this  to  be  the 
 tarn  of  his  mind,  he  may  conclude,  that  he  is  not  far 
 from  that  perfection  of  benevolence,  which  the  Divine 
 reditude  and  law  require,  and  which  is  neceflary  to  fit 
 every  human  mind  for  being  a  member  of  an  univerfal 
 fociety  hereafter.  Jf,  on  the  other  hand,  he  finds,  that 
 he  is  wholly  wrapt  up  m  himfelf;  that  he  thmks  with 
 no  relifh  of  the  happinefs  of  any  one  elfe  ;  that  his  ut- 
 mofi  benevolence  extends  no  wider  than  the  circle  of 
 his  own  family,  friends,  or  party ;  that  all  he  wants  is 
 to  enrich  himfelf  and  his  relations;  that  he  cannot  look 
 with  any  pcrfonal  tendernefs  or  conlideration  upon  ^ 
 
 A  a  2,  Frenchm({i% 
 
r,6-  .THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  ilL 
 
 Frenchman  or  Spaniard,  a  Jew  or  a  Papift,  or  even  a 
 Churchman  or  Difienter,  if  he  differs  from  them  in  pro- 
 feffion  :  if,  reader,  thou  findeft  this  to  be  the  turn  of 
 thy  mind  ;  if,  in  a  word,  thou  doft  not  find  it  to  be 
 thy  meat  and  thy  drink  to  do  thy  fellow-creature  good,, 
 if  thou  doll  not  love  thy  neighbour  with  the  fame  af- 
 fedion  as  thyfelf,  be  afiured  thou  art  not  at  prefent  of 
 the  difpofition  of  mind,  which  the  Univerfal  Governor 
 would  have  all  his  rational  creatures  brought  to ;  and 
 raavcfi:  judge  v/hat  chance  thou  hafl  for  His  favour, 
 whofe  favour  is  life  and  happinefs ;  whofe  love  to  all 
 his  creatures  tends  to  draw  and  unite  them  to  himfelf, 
 and  would  have  them  all  love  one  another,  that  by  uni- 
 verfal love  they  may  be  united  into  one  fociety,  under 
 one  infinite  Lord  and  univerfal  Father. 
 
 SECT.    VIII. 
 
 Of  our  Obligations  with  rejpeci  to  our  Creator. 
 TTE  come  now  to  the  third  and  nobleft  part  of  the 
 
 duty  of  rational  beings,  which  is  alio  thei? 
 highert  honour,  I  mean.  That  which  they  owe  to  the 
 Creator,  Preferver,  and  Governor  of  themfelves, '  and 
 the  Univerfe.  The  firft  part,  or  foundation  of  which 
 is,  The  belief  of  his  exiifence. 
 
 The  abftrad:  proof  of  the  exiflence  of  God  requires 
 nothing  to  be  granted,  but  only.  That  fomething  now 
 cxifls  ;  which  conceffion  forces  the  mind  to  confefs  the 
 neceflitj  of  fome  Firft  Caufe,  exifting  naturally,  necef- 
 fariiy,  and  independently  upon  any  other;  Himfelf  the 
 €aufe  of  all  things;  Himfelf  the  fountain  of  being,  and 
 plenitude  of  perfedion. 
 
 This  proof  ]ea,ves  no  room  for  cavilling  ;  but  effec- 
 tually cuts  olf  the  fubtle  difputer  from  every  poffible 
 evafion  or  fubterfuge.  It  is  not  however  fo  eafy  for 
 thofe  who  have  not  been  accuftomed  to  abilrad  reafcn- 
 ing,  to  fee  the  conclulive  force  of  it.  For  the  bulk  of" 
 mankind,  the  fitteft  arguments  for  the  being  of  God  are. 
 taken  from  the  ftupendous  works  of  Nature.  And  what 
 objed  IS  there  in  the  whole  compafs  of  nature,  animate 
 or  inanimate,  great  or  fmall,  rare  or  common,  which 
 
 does 
 
OfVirtiu.)  HUMAN   NATURE.  357 
 
 does  not  point  to  the  almighty  Author  of  all  things? 
 Not  only  thofe  which  Itrike  us  with  artonifliment,  and 
 iill  our  niinds  with  their  greatncfs  ;  not  only  the  view^ 
 of  a  rolling  ocean,  a  blazing  fun,  or  the  concave  cf 
 heaven  fparkling  with  its  innumerable  Harry  fires  ;  but 
 even  the  fight  of  a  bovver,  a  pile  of  grafs,  or  a  reptile 
 of  the  duli,  every  particle  of  matter  around  us ;  the 
 •body,  into  which  his  breath  has  infufed  our  life;  the 
 ibul,  by  which  we  think  and  Know  ;  whatever  we  fix 
 •our  eye  or  thought  upon,  holds  forth  the  ever-prefent 
 Deity.  In  what  ftate  or  place  nnid:  we  be,  to  be  infen- 
 iible  of  Him,  by  whom  our  very  being  is  preferved  ? 
 Whither  mull  we  withdraw  ourfelves,  to  be  out  of  the 
 reach  of  his  Divine  communication?,  who  minutely  fills 
 every  point  of  boundlefs  fpace?  Is  it  poffible  to  oblite- 
 rate from  our  minds  the  thought  of  him  in  whom  we 
 live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being? 
 
 The  firll  and  fundamental  duty  of  all  rational  beings 
 to  God,  is,  as  I  have  faid,  To  believe  his  exirtence. 
 Now,  though  there  is  nothing  praife- worthy  in  believ- 
 ing ihemoft  important  truth  upon  iiifiifficient  grounds  ; 
 and  though,  on  the  contrary,  credulity  is  a  weaknefs 
 unworthy  of  a  being  endowed  with  a  capacity  of  exa- 
 mining and  finding  out  truth  ;  yet  there  may  be  a  great 
 wickednefs  in  unbelief:  For  a  perfon  may,  from  ob- 
 ftinacy  and  perverfenefs,  rejed:  important  truth,  or 
 through  levity,  folly,  or  an  attachment  to  vice,  may 
 avoid  the  proper  and  natural  means  of  conviction.  So 
 that  the  efiedl,  which  the  rational  and  clear  perfuafion 
 of  important  truth  might  have  had  upon  his  difpolition 
 and  praclice,  may  be  loft.  And  it  is  greatly  to  be  fufped- 
 ed,  that  multitudes  are  guilty  of  this  laft  crime,  with 
 refpedt  to  the  awful  dodrine  of  the  exigence  of  God. 
 If  they  be  alked,  whether  they  believe  that  there  is  a 
 God,  they  will  take  it  amifs  to  be  fufpecled  of  the  lead 
 inclination  to  Atheifm.  But  it  is  evident,  from  their 
 lives  and  converfations,  that  if  they  believe  the  exill- 
 ence  of  God  at  all,  it  is  in  fuch  a  manner  as  is  next  to 
 no  belief.  They  think  not  of  the  matter.  There 
 may,  or  may  not,  be  a  God  for  any  thing  they  know 
 or  care. 
 
 A-  a  3  Bb^t 
 
558  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  lii! 
 
 But  to  believe  this  impo;tu!it  doclrine  in  a  manner 
 becoming  a  rational  creature,  is  to  bear  in  mind  a  con- 
 flant  and  habitual  impreffion  of  an  infinitely  perfect,  na- 
 ture, the  Author  and  Fountain  of  exiftence,  the  wif^ 
 and  righteous  Governor  of  the  univerfe,  who  is  ivery 
 where  prefent,  beholding  all  the  actions  and  intentions 
 cf  his  creatures,  to  whom  all  rational  beings  are  ac- 
 countable, and  upon  whofe  favour  or  dilapproba'-ion 
 their  fate  to  all  eternity  wholly  depends.  To  think  of 
 the  Supreme  Being  in  any  other  way  than  this,  is  not 
 believing  His  exiftence  in  a  rational  and  conHftent 
 manner. 
 
 And  did  men  really  admit  the  rational  belief  of  a 
 God ;  did  they  imprefs  their  minds  with  a  fixed  and 
 conftant  attention  to  the  a\vful  thought  of  their  being 
 under  the  continual  infpciftion  of  their  judge,  we  (liould 
 not  fee  them  proceed  in  the  manner  they  do.  For  I 
 afk,  How  the  bulk  of  mankind  could  behave  worle  than 
 they  do,  if  they  were  fure  there  was  no  God  ?  We  fee 
 them  ready  to  catch  at  every  unwarrantable  gratifica- 
 tion of  paffion  or  appetite;  to  put  every  fraudulent  or 
 wicked  fcheme  in  execution,  from  which  they  are  not: 
 reftrained  either  by  human  laws,  or  by  fear  of  lofing 
 the  efteem  and  confidence  of  their  fellow-creatures, 
 with  the  advantages  connedcd  with  it.  What  could 
 ihey  do  more,  if  there  was  no  God  ?  Is  there,  taking 
 mankind  upon  an  average,  one  of  an  hundred  who  he- 
 litates  at  any  vicious  thought,  word,  or  adtion,  from  the 
 fingle  confideration  of  its  being  perhaps  difpleafing  to 
 God?  Is  their  one  of  an  hundred  who  habitually  regu- 
 lates his  thoughts,  words,  and  adlions,  by  the  ilandard 
 of  the  Divine  Will,  and  would  rather  lofe  the  favour 
 and  approbation  of  all  the  men  on  earth,  and  all  the 
 angels  of  heaven,  than  his  Maker's  alone?  How  feldom 
 do  we  meet  with  an  inftance  of  a  perfon,  who  will  not 
 truckle  and  temporize,  commute  and  compound  with 
 confcience,  or  even  ftifle  its  remonftrances  to  gain  the 
 favour  of  the  great  ?  Whereas,  if  men  a<Sted  upon  the 
 principle  of  a  rational  belief  cf  a  God,  they  would  rather 
 make  a  point  of  giving  up  all  human  favour,  to  make 
 fure  of  keeping  ftridly  to  their  dutyj  they  would  take 
 
 ca:G 
 
OfVirtue.)  'HUMAN  NATURE.  35f 
 
 care  always  to  be  on  the  fafe  fide,  to  be  fcritpuloufly 
 ex.ad,  rather  than  too  free,  in  their  lives  and  coiivcr- 
 fations ;  they  would  Labour,  if  poifible,  to  do  more 
 than  the  exacTt  duty  of  their  ftations;  and  to  avoid  even 
 the  lealt  appearance  of  evil ;  as  they  who  would  make 
 their  court  to  a  prince,  do  not  grudge  any  extraordinary 
 fervice,  attendance,  or  expence  fur  him;  are  cautious 
 of  io  much  as  feeming  to  look  toward  what  may  be  dif- 
 agreeabie  to  his  humour  or  inclination,  or  in  the  lealt 
 favouring,  or  feeming  to  favour,  thofe  whom  he  does 
 not  approve.  Did  men  in  any  rational  and  confident 
 manner  believe  the  exiitence  of  a  God,  or  think  of  him 
 as  the  Governor  and  Judge  of  the  world,  under  whofs 
 immediate  infpection  we  {land  at  all  moments,  we  fiiould 
 fee  their  conduct  corrected  and  regulated  by  thai  con- 
 itant  aw^e  and  fear,  which  becomes  dependent,  account- 
 able beings,  whofe  minds  are  duly  impreffed  wirh  a 
 fenfe  of  their  prefent  condition  and  future  expectations. 
 Their  belief  would  be  pradical  as  well  as  fpeculativc. 
 It  would  affed  their  hearts,  as  well  as  iraprefs  their  un- 
 deritandings. 
 
 How  fbme  men  contrive  to  fatisfy  their  own  minds 
 upon  the  fubjedt  of  their  duty  to  God,  is  inconceivable. 
 One  would  imagine  it  impoffible  for  a  being,  at  all  ca- 
 pable of  thought,  to  bring  himfelf  to  believe,  that  tho' 
 he  owes  his  exigence,  his  body,  his  foul,  his  reafoning 
 faculty,  fpeech,  and  all  his  powers,  corporeal  and  mentaf, 
 with  whatever  he  enjoys  now,  or  hopes  for  hereafter, 
 to  an  infinitely  perfedl:  and  amiable  Being,  who  has 
 made  him  capable  of  apprehending  his  perfedlions,  and 
 his  abfolute  power  over  him  ;  one  w^ould  imagine  it 
 impoffible,  1  fay,  for  a  being  endowed  with  a  reafon- 
 ing faculty  to  believe  all  this,  and  yet  think  he  owes  no 
 ^^,  duty  at  all,  no  gratitude,  love,  or  fervice,  no  pofitive 
 '  adoration  or  praife  to  his  Creator,  Governor,  and  Judge, 
 Yet  is  there,  even  in  this  enlightened  age,  and  this  land 
 of  knowledge,  a  perfon  among  an  hundred  who  makes 
 confcience  of  regularly  and  habitually  performing,  in  a 
 rational  and  devout  manner,  the  pofitiv^'e  duties  of  me- 
 ditation upon  the  Divine  perfedtions,  in  ordtr  to  raife 
 his  mind  to  an  imitation  of  them  ;  of  addrelling  God 
 
 A  a  4  by 
 
26o  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  III. 
 
 by  prayer  for  the  fupply  of  all  his  wants  •,  or  of  praifing 
 him  for  the  bounties  received  ?  On  the  contrary,  is 
 there  not  too  much  reafon  to  cgnclude,  that  by  far  the 
 greatcft  part  of  mankind  have  not  God  in  all  their 
 thoughts;  or  if  they  have,  the  thought  of  him  produces 
 no  viiible  effed  ?  They  attend  the  public  worlliip  in- 
 deed from  a  ftjnfe  of  decency.  But  it  is  plain,  from 
 their  general  levity  of  behaviour,  that  their  hearts  are 
 not  in  if.  And,  as  for  worihipping  God  daily  in 
 their  houfes,  with  their  families,  or  by  themfelves  in 
 their  clofets,  they  fee  no  neceffity  for  it,  and  conclude, 
 that  whoever  lives  foberly,  and  is  good-natured,  though 
 he  habitually  negleds  the  whole  third  part  of  his  duty, 
 is  likely  to  meet  with  the  Divine  approbation,  and  to 
 be  happy  at  laft. 
 
 It  is  proved  above,  that  the  Author  of  all  things  muft 
 be  infinite  in  his  elTence,  and  in  ail  pollible  perFeftions, 
 as  wifdom,  power,  goodnefs,  and  red:itude.  If  fo,  it  is 
 evident,  not  only  that  he  is  the  proper  objtcl  of  the  ad- 
 miration, love,  gratitude,  and  every  other  noble  affedion, 
 oFthe  mmds  of  fuch  low  creatures  as  mankind,  who  are 
 }?robably  the  meanell  of  all  rational  beings ;  but  that  it 
 is  the  glory  of  the  higheft  archangel  in  heaven  to  adore 
 Infinite  Perfection;  nay,  that  the  whole  of  the  reverence, 
 love,  and  praife  of  any  conceivable  number  of  created 
 beings,  paid  by  them  through  all  eternity,  muft  fall  in- 
 finitely fliort  of  what  is  juiUy  his  due  :  becauie  the 
 whole  of  the  tribute  of  honour  and  fervice,  which  all 
 created  beings  can  pay,  will  be  finite  ;  whereas  the  Di- 
 vine Perfedions  are  infinite  :  Now  every  finite  is  infi- 
 nitely deficient,  when  compared  with  what  is  infinite. 
 
 To  be  more  particular ;  the  confideration  of  the  Di- 
 vine Immenfity,  or  Omniprefence,  ought  to  fi:rike  every 
 thinking  mind  with  the  mofi;  profound  awe  and  vener- 
 ation, which  ought  to  dwell  upon  it  conftantly  and  ha- 
 bitually, of  its  being  at  all  times  furrounded  with  the 
 Divinity,  which  pervades  all  matter,  and  is  the  Spirit 
 within  every  fpirit,  feeing,  or  rather  intimately  feeling, 
 every  motion  of  every  mind  in  the  univerfe.  Whoever 
 has  juft  and  habitual  impreffions  of  the  Divine  Omni- 
 prefencej  will  no  more  prefurae  to  do  any  thing  amifs, 
 
OfVirtiu.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  361 
 
 or  even  to  think  a  bad  thought,  than  a  confiderate  per- 
 fon  will  dare  to  behave  rudely  in  the  royal  prelence.  A 
 thinking  mind  conliders  itfelf  as  at  all  times,  by  day  and 
 by  night,  in  public  and  in  private,  abroad  and  at  home, 
 in  the  immediate  and  intimate  prefence  of  the  great 
 King  of  the  World,  whofe  boundlefs  palace  is  the  whole 
 univerfe.  It  will  therefore  be  continually  and  habitu- 
 ally on  its  guard ;  and,  as  one  who  appears  before  an  illu- 
 llrious  characler,  whole  favour  he  greatly  values,  will  be 
 above  all  things  fearful  of  mifbehaving  ;  fo  will  the 
 confiderate  mind  dread  the  danger  of  lofing  the  appro- 
 bation of  that  ever-prefent  Judge,  upon  whom  his  fate 
 depends,  infinitely  more  than  pain,  or  poverty,  or  fhame, 
 or  death,  and  will  cheerfully  expofe  himfelf  to  any  or 
 all  of  theni,  rather  than  ad  an  unbecoming  part  before 
 that  Eye,  which  is  not  to  be  deceived.  He,  who  thinks 
 how  vice,  or  even  frailty,  muft  appear  before  that  Be- 
 ing, whofe  very  nature  is  re6titude  in  perfection,  and 
 who  knows  not  the  leaft  fiiadow  of  error,  or  deviation; 
 can  he  think  of  voluntarily  departing  from  the  eternal 
 rule  of  right,  or  allovx'ing  himfelf  in  any  pradice,  which 
 muft  oifend  Infinite  Purity? 
 
 The  confideration  of  the  eternity,  or  perpetual  exift- 
 ence  hereafter,  of  the  Divinity,  together  with  that  of 
 the  neceffary  immutability  of  his  nature,  fuggeils  to  the 
 pious  and  Vv^ell-difpofed  mind,  the  comfortable  profpc(3:, 
 that  after  all  the  changes  and  revolutions  which  may 
 happen  to  it,  to  the  kingdoms,  and  empires  of  this 
 world,  and  to  the  Vvorld  itfelf;  after  all  the  vifible  ob- 
 jeds,  v>'hich  now  are,  have  performed  their  eourfes,  and 
 are  vanilhed,  or  renewed  ;  after  a  period  of  duration 
 long  enough  to  obliterate  from  all  human  memory  the 
 the  idea  of  a  fun,  and  tlars,  and  earth  ;  11  ill  he,  who  is 
 now^  Governor  of  the  Univerfe,  will  continue  to  fill  the 
 Supreme  Throne,  and  to  rule  with  boundlefs  and  un- 
 controuled  iway  over  his  infinite  dominions ;  and  con- 
 fequently,  that  whoever  is  fo  wife  as  to  ilrive  above  all 
 things  to  gain  his  favour,  may  depend  upon  being  al- 
 ways fecure  of  the  enjoyment  of  the  happinefs  aihgned 
 him  by  the  general  Judge,  and  that  no  change  in  the 
 affairs  even  of  the  whole  univerie,  will  ever  remove  him 
 
 fiom 
 
^^2  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IIL 
 
 o 
 
 from  that  ftation  which  has  been  appointed  him.  For  the 
 Univerfal  Governor  will  raiie  no  one  to  happinefs  here- 
 after, but  fuch  as  he  finds  qualified  for  it.  Nor  will  the 
 time  ever  come,  when  it  will  not  be  in  his  power  to 
 keep  thofe  beings  happv,  which  he  has  once  made  fo ; 
 for  his  dominion  is  an  everlafting  dominion,  and  of  his 
 kingdom  there  will  never  be  an  end.  Nor  will  the 
 time  ever  come,  when  he  will  change  his  purpofe  or 
 fcheme  of  government ;  or,  like  a  weak  earthly  prince, 
 degrade  his  favourites,  or  reverfe  his  laws,  to  indulge 
 uncertain  caprice. 
 
 This  Iheu's  the  Supreme  Being  to  be  a  very  proper 
 objed;  of  the  truft  of  all  his  creatures.  Had  I  the  fa- 
 vour of  all  the  crowned  heads  in  the  world,  it  is 
 evident,  that  in  fo  Ihort  a  time  as  a  century  hence, 
 it  muft  be  of  no  manner  of  value  to  me.  Dv  ath  v.'ill, 
 in  all  probability,  before  that  (liort  period  be  elapfed, 
 remove  every  one  of  them,  and  myfelf  too,  into  a  ftate, 
 in  which  no  favour  will  be  of  any  avail,  but  that  of  the 
 King  of  Kings,  upon  whom  they  muft  be  as  much  de . 
 pendent  as  I.  But  to  truft  to  Him  who  is  eternal  in  his 
 nature,  and  unchangeable  in  his  purpofe,  and  who  has 
 it  in  his  power  to  make  and  keep  his  favourites  eternally 
 happy,  is  building  upon  a  fure  foundation. 
 
 Here  it  is  to  be  remembered,  that  it  is  only  in  a 
 courfe  of  obedience  that  we  have  any  pretenc-e  to  trutl: 
 in  God.  All  confidence  in  him,  that  is  not  founded  in 
 well-doing,  is  vain  and  prefumptuous,  and  will  in  the 
 end  be  dilappointed.  As  the  king  on  the  throne  has 
 power  to  raife  any  perfon,  whom  he  may  judge  worthy 
 of  honour,  at  the  fame  time  that  it  is  vain  and  prefump- 
 tuous to  think  of  trufiing  to  him  in  any  other  way,  than 
 fuch  as  may  be  likely  to  gain  his  favour  5  fo,  though 
 the  Supreme  King  of  the  Univerfe  has  power  to  raife 
 any  of  his  creatures  to  inconceivable  happinefs,  it  is  not 
 to  be  expelled  that  he  will  beflow  his  favour  upon  any, 
 but  fuch  as  Ihail  be  found  worthy  of  it.  And  his  infi-. 
 nite  wifdom  will  effeftually  prevent  his  being  miftaken 
 in  his  judgment  of  charaders;  and  renders  it  impoffible 
 that  he  fliould  bellow  his  approbation  amifs.  So  that 
 there  is  no  ground  Qf  confidence  for  any,  but  thofe  who 
 
 make 
 
q/rirfue.;         human  naturi.  36'j 
 
 make  it  their  fincere  and  diligent  endeavour  to  gain  the 
 Divine  Favour  in  the  way  which  he  has  appointed. 
 
 It  is  impoffible  to  furvev,  with  a  dilcerning  eye,  the 
 world  which  we  inhabit,  Avithout  reading  the  illuitrious 
 charaders  of  power,  wifdom,  and  goodnefs,  which  the 
 Divine  hand  has  infcrihed  upon  it|;,  each  of  which  attri- 
 butes fuggells  to  us  a  fet  of  duties,  and  therefore  dcfciTcs 
 our  particular  confideration. 
 
 To  create,  or  bring  into,  exiftence,  one  particle  of 
 matter,  which  before  was  nothing,  who  can  fay  what 
 power  is  requifite  ?  The  difference  between  nothing  and 
 ■a  real  exiftence  is  flriclly  and  properly  infinite.  Which 
 feems  to  imply  an  infinite  difficulty  to  be  furmounted, 
 before  one  particle  of  matter  can  be  produced.  And 
 no  power,  inferior  to  infinie,  is  equal  to  an  infinite  , 
 difficulty,  Be  that  as  it  will,  it  is  unqneftionabie,  tha-t 
 to  produce  great  works,  requires  proportionable  power. 
 And  if  the  v/orks  of  nature  are  not  great,  there  is  no 
 greatnefs  conceivable.  The  calling  forth  a  world  into 
 being,  had  it  been  from  its  creation  to  remain  for  ever  at 
 refl,  had  been  an  effed  worthy  of  Divine  Power.  But  to 
 give  to  a  fyftem  fo  huge  and  unwieldy,  any  degree  of 
 motion,  much  more  to  give  a  motion  inconceivably  fwift 
 to  manes  of  matter  inconceivably  bulky  ;  to  accommo- 
 date velocity  to  what  is  the  moll  unfit  for  being  moved 
 with  velocity ;  to  whirl  a  whole  earth,  a  globe  of  twen- 
 ty- live  thoufand  miles  round,  with  all  its  mountains  and 
 oceans,  at  the  rate  of  near  fixty-thoufand  miles  an  hour ; 
 to  carry  on  fuch  an  amazing  motion  for  many  thou- 
 fands  of  years  ;  to  keep  fix  fuch  bodies  in  continual 
 motion,  in  ditferent  planes,  and  with  different  veloci- 
 ties, round  a  common  centre,  at  the  fame  time  that  ten 
 others  are  revolving  round  them,  and  going  along  with 
 them  ;  What  amazing  power  is  requifite  to  p  roducc 
 fuch  effe6ts  I 
 
 Hov/  do  we  admire  the  effefts  produced  by  a  combi- 
 nation of  mechanic  powers  (which  alfo  a6l  by  Divine 
 Power,  or  Laws  of  Nature)  in  railing  weights,  and  over- 
 coming the  vis  inertia;  of  matter  ?  What  fliould  we  think 
 ©f  a  machine,  conllrufted  by  human  hands,  by  which 
 St.  Paul's  Cliurch,  or  a  little  hill,  Ihoald  be  tranfported 
 
 half 
 
3^4  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  III. 
 
 half  a  mile  from  its  place,  with  ever  fo  flow  a  m.otion  ? 
 But  the  greatefl:  mountain  is  no  more  in  comparifon 
 ^\'ith  the  whole  earth,  than  a  grain  of  fand  to  a  moun- 
 tain. Yet  the  whole  cumbrous  mafs  of  earth  has  been 
 whirled  round  the  fun,  for  thefe  five  thoufand  years 
 and  upwards,  with  a  rapidity  frightful  to  think  of,  and 
 for  any  thing  we  know,  with  undiminifhcd  force.  And 
 the  comet  in  1680-81,  muft,  according  to  the  Newtonian 
 principles,  have  moved  in  its  'perihelion,  or  neareft  ap- 
 proach to  the  fun,  at  the  rate  of  above  a  million  of  miles 
 in  an  hour;  which  was  a  flight  near  twenty  times  more 
 rapid  than  that  of  the  earth  in  its  annual  courfe  1  No\y 
 the  fwifteft  fpeed  of  a  horfe,  that  ever  has  been  known^ 
 was  at  the  rate  of  one  mile  in  one  minute,  "which  con- 
 tinued, would  give  flxty  miles  in  an  hour,  inftead  of 
 more  than  a  million,  the  comet's  motion.  The  fwifteft 
 horfe,  at  full  fpeed,  may  move  twenty  foot  in  the  time 
 that  one  can  pronounce  one,  or  lixty  foot,  while  one 
 can  fay  onCj  two,  three.  But  to  form  fome  conception 
 of  the  motion  of  the  Newtonian  comet,  let  the  reader 
 fuppofe  himfelf  placed  upon  fuch  an  eminence  as  will 
 give  him  a  profpecl  of  fifty  miles  on  each  hand  ;  the 
 rapidity  of  that  tremendous  body  in  the  fwifeft  part  of 
 its  courfe,  was  fuch  that  in  the  time  of  pronouncing 
 one  fyllable,  or  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  it  would  fly 
 acrofs  that  fpace  of  one  hundred  miles,  while  the 
 fwifteft  horfe  would  have  proceeded  twenty  foot.  Yet 
 thofe  enormous  bodies  are  by  the  parallax  they  give, 
 fuppofed  to  be  nearly  of  the  magnitude  of  our  globe  of 
 earth  ajid  ocean,  and  fome  of  them  perhaps  larger. 
 
 Now  there  is  nothing  more  evident,  than  that  in  pro- 
 portion to  the  quantity  of  matter  to  be  moved,  and  the 
 velocity  with  which  it  is  to  moved,  fuch  muft  be  the 
 moving  force,  Let  the  reader,  therefore,  if  he  has  any 
 talent  in  calculation,  try  to  eftimate  the  force  required 
 to  give  fuch  a  furious  rapidity  to  bodies  of  fuch  ftu- 
 pendous  magnitude  ;  if  he  has  any  imagination,  let 
 him  fill  it  with  the  fublime  idea  of  Omnipotence  ;  and 
 if  he  has  either  reafon  or  religion,  let  him  proftrate  his 
 foul,  and  adore  fuch  tremendous  and  irrefiftible  power. 
 
 No?: 
 
OfVh'fue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  3^5 
 
 Nor  is  lefs  command  of  matter  required  to  produce 
 the  aftonifliing  appearances  in  the  minute,  than  in  the 
 great  world  ;  to  carry  on  the  various  fecretions,  circu- 
 lations, and  tranfmutations  in  vegetation,  and  the  pro- 
 duction, growth,  and  life  of  animals  ;  cfpeciallj  when 
 the  degree  of  minutenefs  is  fuch,  as  it  muft  be  in  an 
 animalcule,  of  which  millions  would  only  equal  the 
 bulk  of  a  grain  of  fand.  What  power  is  required  to 
 wing  the  rapid  light  from  its  fountain,  the  fun,  to  ua  in 
 feven  or  eight  minutes,  with  fuch  a  fwittnefs^  that  in  the 
 inftant  of  pronouncing  the  word  light,  fixty  thoufand 
 miles  are  paffed  through  I 
 
 To  a  being  poffeffed  of  rightful  power  over  us,  the 
 proper  duty  is  evidently  fear,  or  awe ;  and  the  confe- 
 •  quence  of  that  is  obedience.  If  we  confider  the  Su- 
 preme Being  as  pofleiled  of  infinite  or  boundlefs  power 
 over  all  his  creatures,  we  muft  fee  the  indifpenfable  ne- 
 ceffity  of  the  moft  profound  fubroiffion  to  him,  both  in 
 our  difpofitions  and  practice.  If  we  confider  him  as 
 our  Creator,  we  muft  be  convinced  that  he  has  an  ab- 
 folute  right  to  us,  and  to  all  our  fervices.  If  we  think 
 of  him  as  irrefiftible,  rebellion  againft  him  is  a  degree 
 of  madnefs  beyond  all  computation.  For  what  lafting 
 and  inconceivably  dreadful  punilhments  may  not  fuch 
 power  inflift  upon  thofe  perverfe  and  impenitent  be- 
 ings, who  became  the  objeds  of  his  vengeance  ?  And 
 what  chance  can  the  worms  of  the  earth  have  to  de- 
 liver themfelves  out  of  the  hands  of  the  Almighty? 
 
 There  is  no  inconfiftency  benveen  the  fear  we  owe 
 to  God,  and  the  duty  of  love.  On  the  contrary,  love 
 ever  implies  a  fear  to  offend  the  perfon  beloved.  As  on 
 one  hand,  nothing  is  fo  perfeclly  amiable  as  infinite 
 perfedtion  ;  fo  neither  is  there  any  fo  proper  obje<5l  of 
 fear,  as  he  who  is  infinitely  great  and  awful.  And 
 there  is  a  wide  difference  between  the  flaviih  fear, 
 which  a  criminal  has  for  his  judge,  or  that  which  a 
 miferable  fubjed  has  for  a  tyrant,  and  that  oF  a  fon  ioiL 
 an  affeclionate  father.  Of  this  laft  kind  is  the  reverence 
 with  w^hich  we  ought  to  think  of  our  Creator.  Only 
 we  mull  take  the  utmoft  care  not  to  entertain  'any  no- 
 tion 
 
3^(i  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  1I?» 
 
 tion  of  God,-  as  of  one  capable  of  any  weaknefs  refemb- 
 ling  that  of  earthly  parents.  For  it  is  certain,  that  the 
 judge  of  the  world,  vvhofe  reditucle  andjullice  are  ab- 
 ^iolutely  perfcclanJ  inviolable,  will  not,  cannot,  be  milled, 
 by  fundnefs  for  his  own  creatures,  to  make  the  obdu- 
 i-ately  wicked  happy.  For,  though  he  loves  his  crea- 
 ture, he  loves  jullice  more,  and  will  not  facrifice  his 
 own  eternal  and  immutable  attribute  for  the  fake  of 
 any  number  of  worthlefs  rebellious  beings  whatever. 
 
 As  to  the  Divine  Wifdom  appearing  in  the  works  of 
 creation,  we  are  peculiarly,  at  a  lofs  to  conceive  pro- 
 perly of  it.  For  we  come  into  a  world  ready  finiflicd, 
 ynd  tit  to  be  inhabited  ;  and  therefore  have  no  concep- 
 tion of  the  immenfe  ftretch  of  thought,  the  amazing 
 ilepth  of  invention  (if  we  may  fo  fpeak)  that  was  necef- 
 fary  to  plan  an  univerfe.  Let  any  man  imagine  the 
 ilate  of  things  before  there  was  any  created  being,  if 
 tver  fach  a  time  was ;  when  there  was  no  plan,  no 
 model,  or  pattern  to  proceed  upon  ;  when  the  very  idea 
 of  an  tiniverfe,  as  well  as  the  particular  plan  and  execu- 
 tion of  it,  was  to  be  drawn,  fo  to  fpeak,  out  of  the  Di- 
 vine Imagination.  Let  the  reader  fuppofe  himfelf  to 
 have  been  firll  produced,  nnd  to  have  had  it  revealed  to 
 him  by  his  Creator,  that  an  univerfe  was  to  be  created. 
 An  univerfe  I  What  idea  could  he  have  formed  of  an 
 univerfe  ?  Had  he  been  confulted  upon  the  plan  of  it, 
 which  part  would  he  have  begun  at  ?  Before  light  ex- 
 jded,  could  he  have  conceived  the  idea  of  light  ?  Before 
 there „was  either  fun,  liars,  or  earth,  could  he  have 
 formed  any  conception  of  a  fun,  ftars,  or  earfh  ?  Could 
 he  have  contrived  light  for  the  eye,  or  the  eye  for  light? 
 Could  h^  have  fuited  a  world  to  its  inhabitants,  or  in- 
 habitants to  a  world  ?  Could  he  have  fitted  bodies  to 
 minds,  or  minds  to  bodies  ? 
 
 If  the  reader  lliould  not  clearly  enough  fee  the  difn- 
 cuhy  of  inventing  and  planning  an  univerfe  from  no- 
 thing, nor  the  wondrous  torefight  and  comprehenfive 
 wifclom,  that  was  necefiary  for  fitting  an  almofi:  infinite 
 number  of  things  to  one  another,  in  fuch  a  manner, 
 that  every  particular  Qiould  aniwer  its  particular  end, 
 autl  fill  its  particular  place,   at  the  fame  time  that  it 
 
 ihould 
 
i^/Virii^,)  HUMAN  NATURE.  i^-j 
 
 fhould  contribute  to  promote  various  other  defia;ns  ;  if 
 the  depth  ot"  Wifdom,  which  has  produced  all  this,  does 
 not  (ufficiently  appearto  the  reader,  let  hirn  try  to  form 
 a  plan  of  a  new  world,  quite  diilerent  from  all  that  he 
 knows  of  in  the  prefent  univerfe,  in  which  none  of  our 
 elements,  nor  light,  nor  animal  life,  nor  any  of  the  five 
 fenfes,  nor  refpiration,  nor  vegetation  fliall  have  any 
 place.  And  when  he  has  ufed  his  utmoft  efforts,  and 
 put  his  invention  upon  the  utmoft  ilretch,  and  finds 
 that  he  cannot  form  a  fliadow  of  one  lingle  idea,  of 
 which  the  original  is  not  drawn  from  nature  ;  then  let 
 liim  confefs  his  own  weaknefs,  and  adore  that  boundlefs 
 Wifdom,  which  has  produced,  out  of  i>.s  own  infinite 
 fertility  of  invention,  enough  to  employ,  and  to  confound 
 the  utmoft  human  fagacity. 
 
 Have  not  the  mdft  acute  penetration,  and  indefati- 
 gable induftry  of  the  wife  and  learned  of  all  ages,  been 
 employed  (and  how  could  they  more  worthily)  in 
 fearching  out  the  wonderful  works  of  the  Almighty 
 Maker  of  the  univerfe?  and  have  tliey  yet  found  out 
 one  fingle  article  to  the  bottom?  Can  all  the  philofo- 
 phers  of  modern  tinies,  who  have  added  to  the  obferva- 
 tions  of  the  ancients,  the  difcoveries  made  by  their  own 
 induftry  and  fagacity ;  can  they  give  a  fatisfying  ac- 
 count of  the  machinery  of  the  body  of  a  fly,  or  a  worm  ? 
 Can  they  tell  what  makes  two  particles  of  matter  co- 
 here? Can  they  tell  what  the  fabftance  of  a  particle  of 
 matter  is  ?  Is  the  fcicnce  of  phyfiology,  delightful  and 
 noble  as  it  is,  and  worthy  of  the  ^ixdy  of  angels,  is  it 
 carried  any  farther  than  a  fet  of  obfervations,  v»'onder- 
 ful  indeed  and  ftriking,  but  as  to  real  caufes,  and  in- 
 ternal natures,  altogether  in  the  dark  ?  Kow  do  v/e  ad- 
 mire, and  juftjy,  the  exalted  genius  of  our  feemingly 
 infpired  philolbpher,  for  going  a  pitch  beyond  the  fa- 
 gacity of  all  mankind  in  difcovering  the  laws,  by  which 
 the  vaft  machine  of  the  world  is  governed  ?  Yet  he  mo- 
 deftly  owns  the  caufe  of  attraclion  and  gravitation  to  lie 
 too  deep  for  his  penetration.  How  do  we  ftand  afto- 
 jiiflied  at  the  acutenefs  of  a  mind,  which  could  purfue . 
 calculations  to  a  degree  of  fubtlety  beyond  the  reach  of 
 'ty  far  the  greateft  part  of  mankind  to  follow  him  in, 
 2  '  evca 
 
$63  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  tlh 
 
 even  after  he  has  (hewn  the  way  ?  What  then  ought  we 
 to  think  of  that  Wifdom,  which  in  its  meaneft  produc- 
 tions haiHes  the  deepell  penetration  of  a  capacity, 
 whofe  acutenefs  baffles  the  general  underftanding  of 
 mankind  ? 
 
 From  the  confideration  of  the  wifdom  we  trace  in  the 
 natural  world,  it  is  manifefl:^  pad  all  doubt,  that  the 
 moral  fyftem  (for  the  fake  of  which  that  of  nature  was 
 brought  into  cxiftence)  is  under  the  fame  conducl,  and 
 will  hereafter  appear  to  be  a  fcherne  altogether  worthy 
 of  God.  For  either  both,  or  neither,  muft  be  tlie  con- 
 trivance of  Divine  Wifdom.  Wecannot  conceive  of  God 
 as  partly,  or  by  halves,  but  wholly,  the  Creator  and  Go- 
 vernor of  all  beings,  natural  and  moral,  Andif  f6,  wem.ay 
 be  affured,  that,  as  in  the  fyftem  of  nature,  final  caufes  are 
 fitted  to  produce  their  effects,  and  every  part  of  the  ma- 
 chine of  the  world  is  properly  adjufted  to  its  place  and 
 purpofe  ;  fo  in  the  moral,  every  rational  being  will  be 
 determined  to  the  ftate  and  place  he  is  found  fit  for  * 
 the  good  to  happinefs,  and  the  wicked  to  puniflniient ; 
 the  highly  elevated  and  punned  mind  to  a  high  and 
 eminent  itation,  and  the  corrupt  and  fordid  to  Ihame 
 and  m.ifery  ;  the  foul,  which  has  perfected  its  facultie?, 
 and  refined  its  virtues,  by  imitation  of  the  Divine  Per- 
 tedions,  to  the  converfation  of  angels  and  the  beatific 
 vifion  of  God,  and  that  which  has  by  vice  debauched 
 and  funk  itfelf  below  the  brutes,  to  the  place  of  daemons 
 and  fallen  fpirits.  And  all  this  may  probably  proceed  as 
 much  according  to  the  original  confiitution  of  things,  as 
 a  caufe  produces  it  effect  in  the  natural  world  ;  as  fire 
 produces  the  dillipation  of  the  parrs  of  combuftible  fub- 
 itances  ;  as  nouriihmcnt  tends  to  the  fupport  of  animal 
 life  ;  and  as  matter  tends  to  decay.  So  that  the  only 
 thing  which  hinders  a  wicked  embodied  mind  from 
 being  now  in  torments,  may  be,  its  being  ftill embodied, 
 and  not  yet  let  out  into  the  world  of  fpirits,  where  a 
 new  and  dreadful  fcene  will  of  courfe  immediately  open 
 upon  it,  as  foon  as  it  comes  to  be  divefted  of  the  earthly 
 vehicle,  which  now  conceals thofe  invifible  horrors,  and 
 protedts  it  from  its  future  tormentors.  And  in  the  fame 
 manner,  the  virtuous  and  exalted  mind  would  be  now 
 2  in 
 
Of  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  369 
 
 in  a  flate  of  happinefs,  if  it  were  not  prevented  from 
 the  commerce  of  bleffed  fpirits,  and  the  view  of  the 
 invifible  world,  by  the  impenetrable  veil  of  liefh  which 
 furrounds  it.  But  this  fuppofition  does  not  at  all  afte(ft 
 the  dodrine  of  pofitive  rewards  and  punilhments,  nor 
 of  feparate  places  appointed  for  receiving  the  good,  and 
 the  wicked,  after  the  final  judgment. 
 
 If  we  find  the  mere  material  fvlteEi  of  nature  to  be 
 wrought  by  a  degree  of  wifdom,  altogether  beyond  our 
 comprehenfion,  it  would  be  madnefs  to  fuppofe  that  we 
 fliali  ever  have  fagacity  enough  to  baffle  the  Divine 
 Scheme  in  the  moral  government  of  the  v»'orld  ;  that 
 we  fliall  be  able  to  contrive  any  way  of  efcnping  from 
 the  punifhment  we  may  deferve.  No.  His  counfel 
 will  Hand  ;  and  he  will  do  ail  his  pleafure.  It  will  not 
 be  in  our  power  to  deceive  his  penetration,  to  get  out 
 of  his  reach,  or  to  defend  ourfelves  againft  his  jullice. 
 
 To  frame  fome  idea  of  the  Divine  Goodnefs  in  the 
 creation  of  the  world,  it  will  be  necellary  to  go  back  in 
 imagination  to  the  ages  which  preceded  all  creation,  if 
 fuch  there  were,  or,  however,  tothofe,  which  were  prior 
 to  the  production  of  our  world.  Let  us  then  view  the 
 awful  Majefty  of  heaven  furrounded  with  ineffable 
 glory,  and  enthroned  in  abfolute  perfection,  beyond 
 conception  bleffed  in  the  confcioufnefs  of  unbounded 
 plentitude.  What  motive  could  influence  him,  who 
 already  enjoyed  complete  perfecTtion  and  happinefs,  to 
 call  unfubftantial  nothing  into  exiftence  ?  What  could 
 be  the  views  of  Infinite  Wifdom  in  fpeaking  a  world 
 into  being  ?  No  profpedt  of  any  addition  to  his  own 
 perfection  or  happinefs :  for  that  which  was  already  in- 
 finite, what  addition  could  it  receive?  Could  the  adora- 
 ble Creator  propofe  to  be  more  than  infinitely  perfect 
 and  happy  ?  It  is  evident,  his  fole  view  muH  have  been 
 to  the  happinefs  of  the  creatures  he  v/as  to  produce. 
 His  own  was  ever,  and  ever  muil  be,  unbounded,  undi- 
 miniihed,  and  unchanged.  The  addition  of  happinefs 
 therefore,  which  was  to  be  produced,  was  to  be  bellowed 
 upon  thofe  who  were  not  yet  created.  Does  then  Di- 
 vine Goodnefs  extenc  to  that  which  has  no  exiltence  ? 
 Does  the  univerfal  Parent  think  of  what  is  net  ?  We, 
 
 S  b  poor^ 
 
37.  THE  DIGNITY  Of  (Book  ilf^ 
 
 poor,  narrow  fouls !  think  it  a  mighty  flretch  of  bene- 
 volence, if  we  can  bring  ourfelves  to  regard  with  fome 
 meafure  of  affection  thofe  of  our  fellow-creatures,  who 
 ftand  raofi:  nearly  connected  with  us  ;  in  loving  whom, 
 we  do  little  more  than  love  ourfelves,  or  love  our  friends 
 and  relations  for  our  own  fakes.  If  there  be  a  mind 
 yet  more  generous,  it  may  take  in  its  country,  or  the. 
 human  fpecies.  A  benevolence  dill  more  extenfive. 
 may  perhaps  enla,rge  itfelf  fo,  wide,  as  to  comprehend 
 within  its  generous  embrace  the  various  orders  of  being 
 which  form  the  univerfal  fcale  ;  defcending  from  the 
 flaming  feraph  to  the  humble  reptile.  Nor  indeed  can 
 any  mind  lincerely  love  the  Almighty  Maker  ;  and 
 hate,  or  defpife  any  of  the  works  of  the  fame  hand, 
 which  formed  itfelf*  But  the  Divine  Benevolence  is 
 as  far  beyond  all  this,  as  infinitude  is  larger  than  any 
 limited  fpace. "  How  peevifli,  and  apt  to  take  offence  at 
 every  trifling  injury,  are  narrow-hearted  mortals  !  Yet 
 what  are  the  infults,  our  fellow-worms  can  offer  us, 
 when  compared  with  the  atrocioufnefs  of  an  offence 
 committed  by  the  duft  of  the  earth  againlt  the  infinite. 
 Majefty  of  the  univerfe  ?  Though  the  Omnifcient  Crea- 
 tor from  eternity  forefaw,  that  the  creatures,  he  was 
 to  form,  would  prove  rebellions  and  difobedient ;  that 
 they  would  violate  all  his  wife  and  facred  laws,  and.  in- 
 fait  his  fovereign  honour,  as  Governor  of  the  world  ; 
 has  he  grudged  to  give  them  exiftence  ;  to  bellow  upon 
 them  a  temporary  happinefs ;  to  make  his  funfliine, 
 and  his  rain  defcend  on  all  proraifcuouflj  ;  and  put  it 
 in  the  power  of  all  to  attain  perfedion,  happinefs,  and 
 glory  ?  What  negledt  of  every  duty  and  obligation  ; 
 how  many  adls  of  fraud,  oppreffion,  and  cruelty  ;  how 
 many  horrid  execrations,  and  infernal  blafphemies,  does 
 every  day  record  againft  the  daring  race  of  men  around 
 the  world?  Yet  feldom  does  the  Divine  Vengeance 
 break  loofe  upon  the  impious  offenders.  Our  wicked 
 fpecies,  if  there  were  no  other  lawlefs  order  of  creatures 
 in  the  univerfe,  are  ever  offending.  And  yet  the  thun- 
 der feldom  itrikes  the  guilty  dead.  Earthquakes  and 
 3nundations  are  rarely  let  loofe.  A  few  cities  purged 
 |5y  fire,  and  a  world  cleanfed  by  a  deluge  once  in  fix. 
 
 thoufanc^ 
 
Oftirtue.)  rtUMAN  NATURE.  37.1 
 
 thoufand  years,  ferve  jufl  to  put  unthinking  mortals  in 
 remembrance  that  there  is  a  power  above  them.  So 
 that  every  moment  of  the  duration  of  the  world  is  an 
 univerfal  witnefs  declaring  to  all  x\\t  nations  of  the 
 earth,  in  a  language  diflinclly  intelligible  to  all,  the 
 goodnefs  of  the  Maker  and  Governor  of  the  univerfe. 
 At  the  fame  time  that  the  prince  of  angels  receives 
 from  the  immediate  communications  of  the  Divine 
 Goodnefs,  beatitude  paft  utterance,  the  humble  peafant 
 rejoices  in  his  bounty,  with  Vv'hich  the  fields  are  en- 
 riched, and  the  fair  face  of  nature  a-lorned.  Even  the 
 lonely  favage  in  the  wildernefs'  the  fordid  reptile  in  the 
 du(t,  and  the  fcaiy  nations,  which  people  the  uniathom- 
 able  deep,  all  tafte  of  the  bounty,  and  are  fupported  by 
 the  unlimited  goodnefs,  of  the  Univerfal  Parent,  who 
 opens  his  unv.'earied  hand  liberally,  and  fatisfies  every 
 living  foul. 
 
 If  human  underftanding  apprehends  any  thing  ac- 
 cording to  truth  and  right,  the  benevolent  character  is 
 the  proper  objedl  of  the  love  of  every  rational  mind,  as 
 the  contrary  is  the  natural  objecl  of  averfion.  If  every 
 human,  or  other  finite  mind,  is  more  or  lefs  amiable, 
 according  as  it  has  more  or  lefs  of  this  excellent  difpo- 
 iition  ;  it  is  evident,  that  Infinite  Goodnefs  is  infinitely 
 amiable.  Who  is  he,  that  pretends  to  thirik  and  reafon, 
 and  has  no  pleafure  in  contemplating  the  Divine  Good- 
 nefs ?  Who  can  refled  upon  fuch  goodnefs,  and  not  ad- 
 mire it  ?  Who  can  admire,  and  not  endeavour  to  imitate 
 it  ?  Who  can  imitate  it,  and  not  be  an  univerfal  bleffing  ? 
 Who  can  be  an  univerfal  bleffing,  and  not  be  happy  ? 
 
 If  the  Divine  Goodnefs  be  evidently  difinterefted,  it 
 being  impoflible  that  the  fmalleft  happinefs  Ihou^d,  from 
 any  enjoyed  by  the  creatures,  be  added  to  that  of  the 
 Creator,  which  is  necelfarily  infinite  ;  it  is  plain,  what 
 makes  real  and  perfe^ft  goodnefs  of  difpo5tion  in  any 
 mind,  viz.  A  propenfity  to  contribute  to  the  happinefs 
 of  others,  without  any  view  to  felf-rintereft.  In  fo  far 
 as  a  view  to  one's  own  happinefs  is  the  motive  to  his 
 exerting  himfelf  for  the  good  of  his  fellow-creatures,  in 
 fo  far  it  has  lefs  of  the  truly  worthy  and  commendable 
 in  it.  For  felf-love,  being  merely  infiindive,  has  no- 
 !P  b  2  thing 
 
^72  TKE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  tm 
 
 thing  praife-worthy.  And  to  promote  the  happintfs  of 
 others  for  the  fake  of  adding  to  one's  own,  is  what  the 
 moft  felfifh  and  fordid  charader  is  capable  of  To  be 
 truly  benevolent,  is  to  imitate  the  Deity  ;  to  do  good 
 for  the  fake  of  doing  good  ;  to  he  bountiful  from  the 
 difpofition  of  the  mind,  from  univerfal  love  and  kind- 
 nefs,  from  rational  confiderations  ot  the  intrinfic  excel- 
 lence of  that  godlike  difpofition  ;  not  from  mere  weak 
 and  effeminate  foftnefs  of  nature. 
 
 It  is  flrange,  that  ever  it  fhould  have  been  queftioned, 
 ■whether  it  is  reafonable  fordependtnt  creatures  to  ad- 
 drefs  themfelves  to  their  infinite  Creator  for  the  fupplj 
 of  their  wants.  Yet  books  have  been  written  to  lliew 
 the  unreafonablenefs  of  prayer.  •'  The  fupreme  Being," 
 fays  an  objedor,  *^  knows  whether  I  am  worthy  to  re- 
 "•  ceive  favours  at  his  hand,  and  what  I  moi^  need, 
 "  before  I  apply  to  him.  If  I  am  v^orthy,  he  will 
 */  beflovv,  whether  1  alk  or  not :  If  not,  he  will  not  be 
 **  prevailed  on  by  any  folicitation  to  bellow  upon  an 
 "  unworthy  objeft.  If  I  afk  what  is  unfit  for  me, 
 *'  he  is  too  wife  and  good  to  grant  it ;  and  if  I  alk  what 
 "  is  fit,  I  gain  nothing  ;  for  he  would  have  beftowed  it 
 *'  upon  me  of  his  own  goodnefs,  without  my  alking." 
 
 There  cannot  be  a  more  egregious  fallacy  than  thaf, 
 on  which  this  objedion  is  founded.  For  it  is  evident,' 
 that,  if  it  be  rational  to  think  of  ourfelves  as  beings  de- 
 pendent upon  the  Supreme,  it  is  rational  for  us  to  ex- 
 jjrefs  our  dependence  ;  if  it  be  reafonable  for  us  toexprefs 
 our  dependence  on  our  Creator,  it  is  unjuftifiable  in  us 
 to  negled  it ;  fo  that  I  can  in  no  propriety  of  fpeech 
 be  faid  to  be  a  worthy  objedl  of  the  Divine  Favour,  till 
 I  aflually  addrefs  myfelf  tohim.  Again,  it  is  evident, 
 that  no  degree  of  homage,  or  fubmiffion,  ought  to  be 
 wanting  from  dependent  creatures  to  their  Creator. 
 But  the  fervice  of  both  body  and  mind  is  a  greater  de- 
 gree of  homage,  than  that  of  the  mind  alone.  So  that 
 till  I  yield  the  bodily  homage,  as  well  as  that  of  the 
 mind,  my  fervice  is  deficient,  which  renders  me  aa 
 unworthy  objeft  of  the  Divioe  Favour. 
 
 It  is  likewife  remarkable,  that  many  of  the  more 
 rational  and  pious  writers  on  this  fubjed,  have  laboured 
 to  reprefent  the  whole  rationak  of  the  duty  of  prayer 
 
©/  rtrm.j  Human  nature.  373 
 
 n,s  confifting  in  the  advantage  which  is  thereby  to 
 accrue  to  the  worfliipper  by  improvement  in  piety  an^ 
 goodnefs.  It  is  true,  that  the  moral  effeds  likely  to  be 
 produced  by  the  conftant  obfervance  of  this  moft  im- 
 portant duty,  are  of  great  and  ineflimable  confequence, 
 which  render  it  a  moft  ufeful  inllrument  for  thofe  noble 
 purpofes.  Did  men  habitually  obferve  the  pradice  of 
 addreffing  themfelves  to  their  Creator,  with  an  awful 
 fenfe  of  his  infinite  greatnefs  and  authority  over  them  ; 
 fuch  a  fixed  impreffion  mud  in  time  be  thereby  made 
 upon  their  minds,  as  would  prove  a  reitraint  fiom  vice, 
 at  all  times,  and  in  all  cai'ts,  equally  powerful.  Did 
 people  make  a  point  of  applying-  conftantly  and  regu- 
 larly to  the  Giver  of  every  good  gift,  they  could  hardly 
 mifs  entertaining  in  their  minds  an  habitual  fenfe  of 
 their  abfolute  dependence  upon  him;  of  gratitude  for 
 his  bounties  received;  and  of  (ludying  obedience,  in 
 order  to  his  future  favour.  What  man  could  be  fo 
 hardened  as  to  go  on  daily  lamenting  and  confelling  his 
 offences,  and  daily  repeating  them  ?  Who  could  pre- 
 fumptuoufly  be  guilty  of  a  crime,  which  he  knew  he 
 niuft  the  fame  day  confefs  to  his  all-leeing  Judge,  and 
 implore  the  pardon  of  it  ?  He,  who  kept  up  his  conftant 
 intercourfe  with  his  Creator,  muft  find  himfelf  very  pow- 
 erfully influenced  by  it,  and  improved  inevery  pious  and 
 worthy  difpofition.  But  befides  all  this,  it  is  evidently 
 in  itfelf  a  reafonable  fervice ;  and  is  to  be  confidered 
 not  only  as  a  noble  and  valuable  means  of  moral  im- 
 provement, but  as  a  pofitive  a6l  of  virtue  ;  it  being 
 as  proper  virtue  to  render  to  God  the  honour  and 
 worfliip  due  to  him,  as  to  give  to  men  their  juft 
 rights.  And  to  withhold  from  him  what  he  has  thQ 
 moft:  unqueftionable  title  to,  being  as  much  an  in- 
 jultice  (vi'ith  the  atrocious  addition  of  its  being  com- 
 mitted againit  the  Greateft  and  Befl;  of  beings)  as  to 
 withhold  from  a  fello^v-creature  his  juft  property. 
 There  is  alfo  plainly  a  connexion  in  nature  and  reafon, 
 between  alking  and  receiving,  and  between  negleding 
 to  alk  and  not  receiving.  This  natural  connexion 
 makes  it  reafonable  for  dependent  creatures  to  exped; 
 to  obtain  their  reafonable  requefts ;  and  to  conclude, 
 tl;at  what  they  do  not  think  it  worth  wtile  to  a(k,  they 
 
 JB  b  3  Hjslj 
 
574  THE  DIGNITY  Of  (Book  lH. 
 
 Ihall  not  receive.  If  there  were  not  fuch  a  conneclion 
 and  foundation  in  reafon  for  this  duty,  it  had  nevec 
 been  commanded  by  the  All-wife  Lawgiver  of  the  uni- 
 verfe  ;  nor  come  to  be  univerfally  praclifed  by  the 
 wifeft:  and  beft  of  mankind,  in  all  ages  and  nations. 
 Nor  is  there  any  greater  difhculty  in  conceiving  the 
 poffibility  of  a  pre-eftablifhed  fcheme  in  the  Divine 
 economy,  according  to  which  the  bleffings  of  Heaven, 
 whether  of  a  fpirituai  or  temporal  nature,  (liould  be 
 granted  to  thofe  who  fhonld  alk,  and  be  found  fit  to 
 receive  them,  than  in  any  other  inftance  of  Pjovidencc, 
 or  than  in  the  future  happinefs  of  the  good  part  of  man- 
 i:ind,  and  not  of  the  wicked. 
 
 If  the  Supreme  Being  be  One,  he  is  the  proper  ob- 
 ject of  the  adoration  of  all  reafonable  beings,  becaufe, 
 having  all  things  in  his  abfolute  difpofal,  without  pof- 
 fibility of  being  thwarted  or  controuled  by  any  one,  if 
 we  can  gain  his  good-w^ill,  we  cannot  want  that  of  any 
 other.  If  He  be  kiiid  and  good  in  the  molt  difinterefted 
 manner,  and  to  the  higheit  degree,  even  extending  hi* 
 bounty  to  the  wicked  and  rebellious,  and  preferving 
 them  in  exigence,  who  make  no  ufe  of  their  exiftence 
 but  to  offend  Him  ;  it  is  reafonable  to  hope,  that  he 
 will  lend  a  propitious  ear  to  the  humble  requefts  of  the 
 virtuous  and  pious  part  of  his  creatures.  If  He  has  all 
 things  in  his  power,  and  can  beftow  without  meafure 
 gifts  both  fpirituai  and  temporal,  without  diminifhing 
 his  inexhaullibie  riches,  to  apply  to  Him  is  going  where 
 we  are  fure  we  fliall  not  be  dii'appointed  through  want 
 of  ability  to  fupply  us.  If  He  is  every  where  prefent, 
 "vve  may  be  fure  of  being  heard  wherever  we  make  our 
 addreffes  to  him.  If  He  is  within  our  very  minds,  we 
 cannot  raife  a  thought  toward  him,  but  he  muft  per- 
 ceive it.  If  He  is  infinitely  wife^  he  knows  exaclly 
 what  is  fit  for  us,  and  will  grant  fuch  of  our  petitions 
 as  may  be  proper  to  be  bellowed  upon  us,  and  with- 
 hold whatever  may  prove  hurtful,  though  we  have  aiked 
 it.  If  it  be  reafonable  to  fuppofe,  that  he  expects  all 
 his  thinking  creatures  to  apply  to  him,  we  may  do  it 
 with  this  comfortable  confideration,  to  encourage  us ; 
 that  in  addreffing  him,  we  are  doing  what  is  agreeable 
 
 n 
 
^fVlriue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  57J 
 
 to  his  nature  and  will,  and  cannot  offend  him  but  by 
 our  nranner  of  performing  it.  Were  1  to  have  an  au- 
 dience of  a  prince,  it  would  give  me  great  encourage- 
 ment to  know  that  he  was  gracioufly  difpofed  toward 
 me,  that  I  (lioukl  not  offend  him  by  begging  his  favour 
 and  prote(5lion;  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  he  expeded 
 I  fliould  petition  him,  and  would  even  take  it  amifs  if  I 
 did  not  •,  that  he  had  it  fully  in  his  power,  as  well  as  in 
 his  inclination,  to  grant  me  the  greatefl  favour  I  fhould 
 have  occalion  to  afk  him  ;  and  that  it  was  his  peculiar 
 delight  to  oblige  and  make  his  fubjed:s  happy.  There 
 are  i^w  princes,  of  whom  moll  of  thefe  things  may  be 
 faid ;  and  none,  of  whom  all  may  be  affirmed.  And 
 yet  they  find,  to  their  no  fmall  trouble  and  incum- 
 brance, that  for  the  few  inconfiderable,  perifhing  fa- 
 vours they  have  in  their  power,  there  are  petitioner j 
 almoff  innumerable.  Whilft  the  infinitely  Good  Giver 
 of  ail  things,  whofe  dirpofition,  atid  vvhofe  power  to  be- 
 ftow  happinefs  inconceivable,  are  equally  boundlefs,  is 
 neglefted  and  defrauded  of  that  homage  and  devotion, 
 to  which  all  his  creatures  ought  to  be  drawn  by  a  fenfe 
 of  their  ov/n  abfolute  dependence  upon  him;  of  his  abi- 
 lity and  readinefs  to  bellow  ;  of  his  authority,  who  has 
 commanded  them  to  make  their  requefts  to  him  ;  and  by 
 the  fpontaneous  di6lates  of  their  own  minds,  diredling 
 them  to  the  performance  of  a  duty  {0  eafy,  fo  reafonable, 
 .and  fo  promiling  of  the  mofl  important  advantages. 
 
 Though  the  principal  part  of  prayer  is  petition,  or 
 addreffing  Heaven  for  the  liipply  of  our  various  wants  for 
 life  and  futurity,  there  are  other  branches,  as  confef- 
 iion  of  our  infirmities  and  faults  ;  thankfgiving  for  tho 
 various  indances  we  have  received  of  the  Divine  Good- 
 nefs ;  and  intercellion  for  our  fellow-creatures.  The 
 fubjecl  of  our  petitions  for  ourfelves  ought  to  be  the 
 neceffaries  of  this  life,  for  which  the  rich,  as  well  as  the 
 poor,  depend  daily  on  the  Divine  Bounty,  and  the  Di- 
 vine Aililtance  toward  our  being  fitted  for  happinefs 
 hereafter.  The  fii  11,  if  we  judge  v/ifely,  we  fhail  afk 
 with  great  fubmiffion,  and  in  moderation,  as  being  of 
 lefs  con!equence,  and  too  apt  to  have  bad  efleds  upon 
 ear  moral  characters,   when  liberally  bellowed.     The 
 
 |J  b  ^  latter, 
 
576  THE  DIGNITY  O?  (Book  111 
 
 latter,  being  of  infinite  confequence  to  us,  we  may  re- 
 queft  with  more  earneftnefs  and  importunity. 
 
 If  we  give  the  lead  attention  to  our  own  charaders, 
 v/e  muft  find  our  thoughts  often  trifling  and  wicked, 
 our  words  foolifh  and  mifchievous,  and  our  adions  cri- 
 minal before  God.  If  we  have  any  confideration,  we 
 cannot  but  think  ourfelves  deplorably  deficient  in  the 
 performance  of  our  duty  with  regard  to  ourfelves,  our 
 fellovv-creatuies,  and  our  Creator.  If  we  are  in  reafon 
 obliged  to  think  often  of  the  fatal  errors  of  our  lives,  to 
 view  and  review  them  attentively,  with  all  their  heavy 
 aggravations,  and  to  mourn  and  lament  them  in  our 
 own  minds;  if  all  this  be  highly  proper  and  reafonable, 
 it  is  more  peculiarly  reafonable  to  acknowledge  our  of- 
 fences before  Him,  whom  we  have  offended;  to  im- 
 plore his  pardon,  who  alone  can  forgive,  and  deprecate 
 his  vengeance,  which  we  have  fo  juftly  deferved.  We 
 ourfelves,  when  offended  by  a  fellow-creature,  expecl 
 that  he  (hould  not  only  be  convinced  in  his  own  mind 
 of  his  mifbebaviour,  and  fpeak  of  it  with  concern  to 
 others;  but  likewife,  that  he  come  and  make  a  direcft 
 acknowledgement,  and  ailc  our  pardon.  Nor  is  there 
 any  thing  unreafonable  in  all  this.  How  much  more, 
 when  we  have  offended  Him  who  is  infinitely  above 
 us,  and  from  whom  we  have  every  thing  to  fear,  if  we 
 do  not,  by  fincere  repentance,  and  thorough  reforma- 
 tion, avert  the  deferved  punifnment.  Efpecially,  if 
 we  confider  that  the  performance  of  this  duty  tends 
 naturally  to  lead  us  to  real  repentance  and  reformation. 
 
 As  we  ought  in  our  prayers  to  confefs  our  faults  and 
 errors,  and  that  not  in  general  terms,  but  with  particu- 
 lar reflection,  in  our  own  minds,  upon  the  principal  and 
 groffell  of  them,  which  every  true  penitent  has  ever 
 upon  his  heart,  and  before  his  eyes ;  fo  ought  \yq  in  all 
 reafon  to  return  our  fincere  thanks  to  the  univerfal  Be- 
 refaClor,  exprefsly  for  every  particular  fignal  infl:ance 
 of  his  favour,  whether  thofe,  in  which  mankind  in  ge- 
 neral (hare  with  us,  or  thofe  in  which  we  have  been 
 diftinguiOied  from  others. 
 
 If  we  have  upon  our  minds  a  due  and  habitual  fenfe 
 •f  our  offences,  we  fliali  of  ourfelves  be  willing  to  make 
 
 confeffioa 
 
OfVirtar.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  J7f 
 
 confeffion  of  them.  If  we  have  any  gratitude  in  our 
 nature,  we  fliall  not  fail  to  exprefs  our  acknowledge- 
 ments for  favours  received.  And  if  we  have  any  real 
 benevolence  for  our  fellow-creatures,  we  fliall  be  natii- 
 rally  led  to  think  it  our  duty  to  prefent  to  the  common 
 Father  of  All,  our  good  vi'ifhes  for  them;  that  they  may 
 be  favoured  with  every  bleffing  which  may  tend  to  pro- 
 mote univerial  happinefs,  fpiritual  a   d  temporal. 
 
 If  it  be  at  all  rational  to  worfliip  God  by  prayer,  it 
 is  obvioufly  fo  to  join  together  at  proper  times  in  that 
 fublime  exercife.  The  advantages  of  public  affemblies 
 for  religious  purpofes,  are,  the  impreffing  more  power- 
 fully upon  the  minds  of  the  worflnppers,  the  fublimity 
 and  importance  of  the  duty  they  are  employed  in,  and 
 the  powerful  effects  of  univerfal  example.  It  is  pretty 
 evident,  that  the  public  vvorfhip  on  Sundays  is  what 
 chiefly  keeps  up  the  little  appearance  of  religion  that  is 
 flill  left  among  us.  I  think  there  is  no  good  reafon 
 againll  keeping  up  in  public  worfhip  as  much  pomp  and 
 magnificence  as  may  be  confiilent  with  propriety,  and 
 fo  as  to  avoid  ollentation  and  fuperftition.  We  are,  in 
 our  prefent  ftate,  very  mechanical,  and  need  all  proper 
 helps  for  drawing  our  inclinations  along  with  our  duty, 
 for  engaging  our  attention,  and  making  fuch  impreffions 
 upon  us,  as  may  be  lafting  and  effedual.  Public  wor- 
 fliip  ought  to  be  fo  conducted,  as  to  be  mod  likely  to 
 prepare  us  for  a  more  numerous  fociety,  in  which  more 
 fublime  exercifes  of  devotion  than  any  we  are  now  ca- 
 pable of  conceiving  of,  may  be  a  conliderable  part  of 
 our  employment  and  happinefs. 
 
 Did  our  leading  people  think  rightly,  they  would  fee 
 the  advantages  of  giving  their  attendance  themfelves  at 
 places  of  public  worfhip,  and  uling  their  influence  and 
 authority  to  draw  others  to  follow  the  fame  laudable 
 example.  Deplorable  are  their  excufes  and  apologies 
 made  by  them  for  their  too  general  and  infamous  ne- 
 gledt  of  the  unqueftionable  duty  of  attending  the  public 
 worfliip  of  God.  Nor  would  it  be  eafy  to  determine, 
 whether  their  pradlice  Ihews  more  want  of  fenfe  or  ot 
 ^oodnefs.    One  mighty  pretence  made  by  them  is,  That 
 
 as 
 
^)9  ^HE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  lit, 
 
 as  to  public  inftructions,  truly  they  hold  themfelves  to 
 be  as  good  judges  of  moral  and  divine  fubjecls  as  the 
 clergy;  and  therefore  they  think  it  loft:  time  to  give 
 their  attention  to  any  thing  which  maybe  delivered  from 
 the  pulpit.  Now,  it  feems  at  leuft  not  very  probable, 
 that  people,  who  fpend  moil  of  their  time  (  Sundays  not 
 excepted)  at  the  card-table,  fhould  as  thoroughly  under- 
 Ihiodthe  cxtenlive  fciences  of  morals  and  rheology,  as  the 
 public  teachers  of  religion,  v;ho  have  fpent  many  years 
 v;holiy  iu  thofe  fludies.  Thcfe  very  perfons,  when  they 
 chance  to  be  overtaken  v.'ithlickntfs,  are  very  ready  tocall 
 inphyilcians,  and  do  not  pretend  to  underitand,  as  well  as 
 they  who  have  made  phylic  their  Iludy,  the  nature  and 
 cure  of  difeafes.  But  wsxe  it  ftridly  true,  that  the  po- 
 lite people  of  our  age  are  fo  wife,  that  they  are  not  like 
 to  hear  any  thing  new,  nor  any  known  truth  fet  in  rt 
 new  light  by  any  preacher;  ftill  is  it  not  an  advantage 
 to  have  a  fet  of  good  thoughts,  which  lay  dormant  ini 
 the  mind,  excited  and  called  up  to  the  attention  of  the 
 underftanding,  by  an  elegant  and  judicious  difcourfe  ? 
 Were  there  likewife  nothing  in  this,  what  public-fpi- 
 rited  perfon  would  not  even  go  out  of  his  way  for  th^ 
 fake  of  fetting  a  good  example  before  the  young  and 
 ignorant,  who  want  inftrudnon,  if  he  does  not.  But 
 when  all  is  faid,  here  is  no  pretence  for  negled:ing  the 
 public  zvor/hip  of  God,  vvhich  is  one  principal  end  of 
 religious  alTcmblies.  So  that  thofe,  who  habitually 
 throw  contempt  upon  this  part  of  duty,  are  evidently 
 guilty  of  a  breach  of  common  decency  and  natural  re- 
 ligion, and  Lire  altogether  without  excufe. 
 
 if  public  worfliip,  in  which  the  inhabitants  of  a 
 whole  quarter  join  together,  be  reafonable,  it  feems  as 
 mu'.;h  fo,  that  families  Qiould  fet  apart  iiated  times  daily 
 for  that  purpole.  We  are  focial  beings,  and  ought  to 
 be  focial  in  all  things  that  are  commendable.  And  if 
 heads  of  fj.milies  are  in  reafon  obliged  to  take  care  that 
 their  children  and  dependents  have  opportunity  of  con- 
 fulting  the  interefts  of  a  future  life,  and  of  being  led  by 
 example,  or  moved  by  authority,  to  the  obfervance  of 
 their  duty  ;  it  is  obvious,  that  in  this  important  one  of 
 woriliipping  God,  perfons  in  ftations  of  authority  and 
 
 example^ 
 
t)f  virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  57^ 
 
 example,  ought  by  no  means  to  be  wanting,  left;  the 
 failures  (through  their  bad  example)  of  thofe  over  whom 
 they  have  had  charge,  be  hereafter  juftly  imputed  to 
 their  negligence. 
 
 The  ufual  excufes  for  the  negledt  of  family-religion, 
 tnade  even  by  many  who  do  not  deny  its  ufefulnefs  and 
 propriety,  are,  want  of  time  ;  and  a  certain  foolifli  re- 
 luftancy  at  performing  the  duty  of  addreffing  their 
 Creator  in  prefence  of  others.  As  to  the  former,  there 
 is  no  well-regulated  houfe,  in  which  the  family  cannot 
 be  called  together  for  half  an  hour  before  the  bufinefs, 
 or  the  pleafure  of  the  day  comes  on,  to  addrefs  their 
 Creator  for  his  blefling  and  favour  through  the  day ; 
 and  the  fame  at  night,  to  join  in  thanking  him  for  the 
 mercies  of  the  day.  That  time  muft  be  employed  ia 
 fome  way  different  from  what  has  been  yet  heard  of, 
 which  is  applied  better  than  to  the  fervice  of  God.  If 
 we  can  find  time  for  eating,  drinking,  dreffing,  mer- 
 chandizing, or  cards ;  to  pretend  to  want  time  for  wor- 
 ihipping  God,  is  raonllrous ! 
 
 As  for  the  other  objedion  againll  keeping  up  the  wor- 
 fliip  of  God  in  families,  it  is  aimoil  too  frivolous  to  de- 
 ferve  any  anfwer  at  all.  Surely  nothing  is  ealier,  than 
 to  choofe  out  a  few  proper  paffages  from  Scripture,  or, 
 with  the  help  of  the  common-prayer  of  the  church,  and 
 other  books  of  devotion  almoft  innumerable,  to  compile 
 a  fet  of  devotions  fuited  to  the  ufe  of  a  family,  and  for 
 the  mailer  of  the  houfe,  kneeling  or  Handing,  with  hit 
 children  and  domeftics  about  him,  to  pronounce  them 
 with  proper  devotion,  the  reft  joining  mentally,  or  with 
 a  low  voice,  in  every  petition. 
 
 If  any  mafter  of  a  family  choofes  to  compofe  a  fet  of 
 devotions  for  his  own  ufe,  I  will  only  mention  one  di- 
 rection, which  might  render  them  more  ufeful,  than 
 they  could  otherwife  be:  It  is,  that  in  them,  the  moral 
 virtues,  or  duties  of  temperance,  benevolence,  and  piety, 
 might  be  fo  worked  into  the  petitions,  that,  in  praying 
 for  the  Divine  Grace  and  Affiftance  to  perform  their  duty, 
 they  Ihould  be  led  to  refled  upon  it,  and  put  in  mind 
 to  examine  themfelves  whether  they  make  confcience 
 
 of 
 
^6  THE  DIGNITY  OI*  (Book  lit 
 
 of  performing  it.  By  this  means  the  daily  devotions  in 
 the  family  might  partly  anfwer  the  end  of  homilies  or 
 inftrudlions. 
 
 Who  does  not  fee,  that  the  natural  confequences  of 
 fuch  an  ceconomy,  conftantly  kept  up  in  houfes,  are 
 likely  to  be,  the  promoting  of  fidelity  in  domeftics,  obe- 
 dience in  children,  and  drawing  down  the  Divine  Blef- 
 ling  upon  families ;  and,  on  the  contrary,  that  a  fociety, 
 in  which  no  regard  is  fliewn  to  the  Supreme  Being,  is 
 not  likely  to  be  bleft  with  the  Dirine  Favour  or  Pro- 
 tedlion? 
 
 That  all  devotions  in  which  others  are  to  join  with 
 the  perfon,  who  utters  them,  even  in  a  private  family; 
 are  better  pre-compofed  than  fpoken  extempore,  feems 
 to  me  very  clear.  There  are  extremely  few,  even 
 among  men  of  the  bed  abilities,  v^ho  are  capable  of 
 littering  fluently,  and  without  hefitation,  tautology,  or 
 fome  kind  of  impropriety,  an  unftudied  fpeech  of  any 
 length.  And  that  a  fpeech  made  in  public  to  God 
 himfelf,  fliould  be  illdigelted,  muft  be  owned  to  be  very 
 grofs.  For  it  is  evident,  that  in  fuch  a  cafe,  the  fpeaker, 
 inftead  of  leading  along  with  him  the  devotion  of  his 
 hearers,  muft  confound  and  diftradl  it.  And  it  feems 
 enough  in  any  reafon,  that  the  fpeaker  have  the  manner, 
 and  delivery  to  attend  to,  without  his  being  obliged  at 
 the  fame  time  to  ftudy  the  matter. 
 
 The  fupplication  of  a  fingle  perfon  by  himfelf,  is,  in 
 my  opinion,  more  properly  prefented  in  his  own  thoughts 
 or  words,  than  in  thofe  of  any  other;  though  the  reading 
 of  books  of  devotion  are  ufeful  helps  to  thofe  whofe 
 thoughts  want  to  be  helped  out. 
 
 What  can  be  more  rational,  more  fublime,  or  more 
 delightful,  than  for  a  dependent  creature  to  raife  his 
 thoughts  to  his  Creator  I  to  fill  his  mind  with  a  fenfe 
 of  the  prefent  Divinity  !  to  pour  forth  his  foul  before 
 Him  who  made  it?  What  fo  great  honour  can  an  hum- 
 ble mortal  enjoy,  as  to  be  allowed  to  fpeak  to  God  ? 
 What  exercife  can  the  rational  foul  engage  in,  fo  worthy 
 the  exertion  of  its  nobleft  powders  and  faculties,  as  ad- 
 dreffing  the  Majefty  of  Heaven  ?  How  can  ir,  in  this 
 prefent  ftatc,  approach  fo  negr  to  the  Author  of  its  be- 
 ing* 
 
O/rirttif.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  38* 
 
 ing,  or  rife  to  an  enjoyment  fo  much  refembling  the 
 beatific  vifion,  as  by  this  fublime  converfe  with  the  Omr 
 niprefent  Deity?  To  I'well  the  thought  with  the  infinite 
 greatnefs  of  the  Objed:  of  Worfliip;  to  confider  one's 
 felf  as  addrefling  that  tremendous  Power,  whofe  word 
 produced  the  univerfe;  to  think  that  one  is  going  to 
 proftrate  his  fjul  before  Him  who  formed  it,  who  is  to 
 be  its  judge,  and  has  the  power  of  difpofing  of  it  for 
 eternity  ! — '.vhat  can  be  conceived  fo  wonderfully  aw- 
 ful and  flriking?  But  to  reflecl,  that  the  glorious  Ob- 
 je(5t  of  Worfiiip,  though  infinitely  exalted  above  the 
 adoration  of  angels  and  archangels,  is  yet  ready,  to  hear, 
 and  bellow  happinefs  upon  the  meanefl  of  his  rational 
 creatures ;  to  think  that  the  humble  petition  of  the 
 iincere  penitent  will  not  be  rejeded  ;  that  the  poor  and 
 needy  are  no  more  beneath  his  notice,  or  out  of  the 
 reach  of  his  goodnefs,  than  the  rich  and  the  mighty ; 
 what  can  be  mcxre  comfortable  ?  If  the  God  is  the  aw- 
 ful Judge  of  mankind,  he  is  alfo  the  merciful  Father 
 of  mankind.  If  his  eye  is  too  pure  to  behold  prefump- 
 tuous  vice  without  abhorrence,  and  too  piercing  to  be 
 deceived  by  the  moll  artful  hypocrify  ;  it  is  alfo  open  to 
 look  with  pity  upon  the  proftrate  mourner,  and  his  good- 
 nefs ready  to  forgive  the  humble  penitent  what  he  can- 
 not forgive  himfelf; 
 
 Be  no  longer,  unthinking  mortal,  fo  much  thy  own 
 enemy,  as  to  exclude  thyfelf  from  the  higheft  honour 
 thy  nature  is  capable  of.  Afpire  to  the  fublime  happi- 
 nefs of  converling  with  thy  Maker.  Enlarge  thy  nar- 
 row mind  to  take  in  the  thought  of  Him  for  whom  thoa 
 art  made.  Call  forth  all  that  is  within  thee  to  magnify 
 and  praife  Him.  Humble  thyfelf  to  the  duft,  in  the 
 contemplation  of  his  unequalled  Majeily.  Open  the  in- 
 moft  receiTes  of  thy  foul  to  Him  M'ho  gave  it  being. 
 Expofe  to  Him,  who  knows  thy  frame,  thy  weakneffes, 
 and  thy  faults.  Think  not  to  conceal  or  palliate  them 
 before  that  Eye  which  is  not  to  be  deceived.  Haft  thou 
 offended  ?  Make  no  delay  to  confefs  before  thy  Creator 
 and  thy  Judge,  what  he  already  knows,  1  hough  he 
 already  knows  thy  folly,  he  expedls  thy  own  confcflion 
 i^f  it,  and  that  thou  deprecate  his  vengeance.     Though 
 
 he 
 
^c  '?'HE  DIGNITY  Of  (Book  III. 
 
 he  may  already  have  thoughts  of  mercy  for  thee,  it  is 
 only  on  condition  that  thou  humbly  implore  it,  and  by 
 repentence  and  amendment  fhew  thyfelf  worthy  of  it. 
 Art  thou  weak  and  helplefs  ?  If  thou  knoweft  thyfelf, 
 thou  feeleft  it.  Addrefs  thyfelf  then  to  Him  who  is 
 almighty,  that  his  power  may  fupport  thee.  Art  thou 
 ignorant  and  fliort-hghted  r  If  thou  doft  not  think  thy- 
 felf fo,  thou  art  blind  indeed.  Apply  then  to  Him, 
 whofe  knowledge  is  infinite,  that  thou  mayft  be  wife  in 
 his  wifdom.  Art  thou  in  want  of  all  things  ?  If  thou 
 thinkeft  otherwife,  thou  art  wretched  indeed.  Have  re- 
 courfe  then  to  Him  who  is  the  Lord  of  all  things,  and 
 is  poilelTed  of  inexhauHible  riches.  If  thou  haft  a  juil 
 fenfe  of  thy  own  ftate,  if  thou  haft  proper  conceptions 
 of  thy  Creator  and  Judge,  or  if  thou  haft  a  foul  capa- 
 ble of  any  thought  worthy  the  dignity  of  «i  reafonablc 
 immortal  nature,  thou  wilt  make  it  thy  greateft  delight 
 to  worfliip  and  adore  Him,  whom  to  ferve  is  the  glory 
 of  the  brighteft  feraph  in  the  celeftial  regions. 
 
 A  numerous  alTembly  of  people,  celebrating  with 
 grateful  hearts  the  praifes  of  their  Almighty  Creator  and 
 Bountiful  Benefador,  may  be,  for  any  thing  we  can 
 conceive,  one  of  the  beft  emblems  of  fome  part  of  the 
 future  employment  and  happinefs  of  immortal  fpirits, 
 which  the  prefent  ftate  can  exhibit.  It  were  well,  if 
 we  could  by  the  mere  force  of  cool  reafon,  i^o  elevate 
 our  conceptions  of  the  Divinity,  as  worthily  to  magnify 
 him  in  our  public  aflemblies.  But  fo  long  as  we  con- 
 tinue the  mechanical  beings  we  are,  we  muft  be  willing 
 to  ufe  all  pofiible  helps  for  working  ourfelves  up  to 
 what  our  imperfed:  faculties  of  themfelves  are  not,  ge- 
 nerally fpcaking,  equal  to,  or,  however,  are  not  at  all 
 times  in  a  condition  for,  Whoever  underftands  human 
 nature,  knows,  of  what  confequence  aflbciations  are. 
 And  it  is  wholly  owing  to  the  infirmities  of  our  nature 
 and  prefent  ftate,  that  a  due  regard  to  decency  and  lo- 
 lemnity  in  public  worfliip  is  of  fuch  importance  towards 
 our  moral  improvement.  Confidering  thefe  things,  it 
 is  with  concern  I  muft  obferve  upon  the  manner  of  per- 
 forming the  folcmn  office  of  praifing  God  in  our  public 
 airemblics,  that  it  very  much  wants  reformation.     I 
 
 know 
 
Vf  virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE,  ^tf 
 
 know  of  no  application  of  mufic  to  this  fublime  ufe,  that 
 is  not  fadly  dt-ficient,  except  what  is  compofed  in  the 
 manner  of  anthems.  For  as  in  every  piece  of  facred. 
 poefy,  there  are  various  and  very  different  taftcs,  and 
 ilrains,  it  is  evident,  that  to  apply  the  lame  returning 
 fetof  liOtes  to  all  alike  is  inconliitent_,  and  not  expreffive 
 of  the  fenfe  and  ipirit  of  the  piece,  The  eighteenth  Pialm, 
 for  example,  is  one  of  the  nobleft  hymns  in  Holy  Scrip- 
 ture. From  the  beginning  to  the  fourth  verfe,  the 
 royal  author  expreiTes  his,  or  the  Mefliah's  joy  and  gra-. 
 titude  for  his  deliverance  from  his  enemies.  It  is  evi- 
 dent, that  the  mulic,  which  is  to  accompany  this  part 
 of  the  piece,  ought  tobe bold,  cheerful,  and  triumphant: 
 plfe  it  will  difguife  and  mifreprefent  the  thoughts,  in- 
 ilead  of  exprelling  them.  The  fourth  and  fifth  verfes 
 exprefs  the  i^falmill's,  or  Mefliah's,  dreadful  difirefs,  by 
 the  cruelty  of  wicked  men,  or  evil  fpirits.  It  is  plain, 
 that  the  triumphant  ftrains  of  mufic,  which  fuited  the 
 former  part,  are  not  at  all  proper  to  exprefs  this  ;  but 
 that,  on  the  contrary,  it  requires  a  fet  of  the  mod  dreary 
 and  horrid  founds  which  mufic  can  utter.  The  fixth 
 verfe  reprefents  the  Sacred  Writer's,  or  Meffiah's,  com- 
 plaint in  his  great  difirefs.  To  exprefs  this  fuitably, 
 neither  of  the  former  fpecies  of  melody  is  proper;  but 
 a  fet  of  melancholy  and  plaintive  notes.  The  fevcnth, 
 and  fome  of  the  following  verfes,  give  an  account  of  the 
 Divine  Appearance  in  anfwer  to  the  foregoing  prayer, 
 attended  with  earthquakes,  tempefts,  lightenmgs,  and 
 all  the  terrors  of  Omnipotence.  Every  one  of  which 
 images  ought  to  be  reprefented  by  a  fi:rain  of  mufic, 
 properly  adapted  to  the  fenfe,  in  tafte  and  exprefi[ion. 
 But  to  chant  this  whole  piece,  as  is  done  at  cathedral 
 churches,  or  to  fing  it,  as  at  pariQi  churches,  and 
 meetings,  to  the  fame  fet  of  notes,  returning  through 
 every  fucceeding  verfe,  is  not  performing  the  piece  fo 
 well  as  if  the  preacher  were  to  read  it  to  the  people. 
 For  a  perfon  of  a  good  elocution,  would  utter  it  in  iuch 
 a  manner,  as  at  lea  ft  fliould  not  difguife  or  mifreprefent 
 the  fenfe,  as  is  the  affect  of  applying  to  it  unfuitable,  or 
 bad  mufic,  which  is  worfe  than  none.  But,  to  thofe,  who 
 ^_nd  proper  fentiments  excited  in  their  minds  by  the 
 '  ^  more 
 
5^4  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IIL 
 
 more  imperfedl  ways  of  performing  the  Divine  Praifes, 
 I  have  nothing  to  fay,  to  leiTen  the  fatisfadion  they 
 have.  I  only  would  (hew  what  is  the  moft  effectual 
 and  perfe6l  way  of  applying  mufic  to  religious  purpofes. 
 And,  after  all,  a  proper  difpofition  of  mind  is  the  prin- 
 cipal thing,  without  which  no  bodily  fervice  can  be  ac- 
 ceptable to  Infinite  Purity. 
 
 To  conclude, — it  is  evident,  that  our  duty  to  our 
 Creator  is,  as  above  obferved,  the  moft  important,  and 
 nobleft  part  of  what  we  ought  to  fludy,  and  praftife, 
 in  order  to  attain  the  true  Dignity  of  Human  Nature, 
 For  that  Infinite  Being,  by  whom,  and  for  whom  we  are, 
 though  in  his  effence  invifible,  in  his  nature  incom- 
 prehenfible  in  his  perfedlions  inconceivable,  does  yet 
 prefent  himfelf  to  all  our  perceptions,  bodily  and 
 mental.  Every  objed:  we  behold,  every  found  we 
 hear,  every  bodily  fubfiance  we  touch,  every  fubjedl 
 of  thought,  muft  be  either  himfelf,  or  the  work  of 
 his  power.  Our  fenfes,  whenever  we  exert  them,  are 
 employed  upon  fome  creature  of  Omnipotence ;  and 
 •*vhen  the  mind  abftrads  itfelf  from  all  the  bodily  oper- 
 ations, even  then  it  apprehends,  it  fees,  it  feels,  the  fu- 
 ftaining,  informing,  and  invigorating  power  within  it. 
 It  finds  itfelf  furrounded  with  the  immenfity  of  Divinity, 
 find  that  itfelf  and  all  things  are  ellablilhed  on  that  uni- 
 verfal  bails  of  exiftence ;  that  all  things  are  full  of  Deity  y 
 ^nd  that  his  prefence  is  the  Mind  within  the  mind. 
 
 How  amazing  then  the  ftupidity  of  numbers  of  the 
 human  fpecies  !  An  order  of  beings  formed  with  a  ca- 
 pacity for  apprehending  the  Creator  and  Governor  of 
 the  univerfe  ;  for  contemplating  the  moft  delightful 
 and  moft  ftriking  of  all  fubjecls ;  for  having  their  minds 
 enlarged  and  ennobled  by  being  habituated  to  the  grand 
 ideas  of  immenfity,  of  wifdom,  goodnefs,  power,  and 
 glory  unbounded  and  unlimited  !  Yet  how  do  numbers 
 of  them  pafs  through  life,  without  ever  endeavouring 
 to  form  any  juft  notions  of  that  Being,  on  whom  they 
 depend  for  their  very  exiftence  ;  without  ever  thinking 
 of  any  duty  they  may  owe  him,  or  any  confequence  of 
 gaining  or  lofing  his  favour  I  What  ftupendous  glories, 
 Y^-hat  wondrous  perfedions,  what  fublime  contempla- 
 tions. 
 
tf  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  38^ 
 
 tions,  are  loft  to  the  grofs  and  infenfible  minds  of  many 
 of  our  fpecies  I  How  is  the  only  B^ing,  who  pofiefles 
 exiftence  in  himfeif,  over-looked  by  thofe  whom  he 
 himfeit  has  brought  into  being  I  How  does  He,  by  whom 
 all  things  exift,  ieeni  to  luch  inconfiderate  minds  not  to 
 exift  I  How  do  the  glories  of  his  works,  which  wer& 
 intended  to  point  him  out,  conceal  from  fuch  unthink- 
 ing minds  the  glorious  Maker  I  How  do  Uich  ungrate- 
 ful men  bafely  take  up  with  the  gifts,  w^ithout  thinking 
 on  the  All-bounteous  Giver  I  How  much  are  thofe  men 
 of  grofs  and  earthly  difpofitions  their  own  enemies  ! 
 How  do  they  ftrive  to  feed  their  heaven-born  minds 
 with  the  unfatisfying  and  naufeous  objedls  of  fenfe  ; 
 depriving  thcni  of  that  fuDlime  entertainment,  for 
 which  they  were  intended,  and  which  is  ever  oftering 
 itfelf  to  them,  the  contemplation  and  enjoyment  of  Di- 
 vinity, the  pofTellion  of  infinite  perfection  I  Open  thy 
 narrow  mind,  unthinking  mortal.  Enlarge  thy  con- 
 fined defires.  Raife  thy  groveling  ambition,  (^lit  the 
 trifling  objeds  which  now  poflefs,  and  which  will  in 
 the  end  difappoint  thee.  Trample  under  thy  feet  the 
 wretched  amufements  of  riches,  honours,  and  pleafures  ; 
 and  afpire  to  what  is  worthy  the  dignity  of  thy  nature, 
 and  thy  Divine  Original.  It  is  thy  Maker  himfeif  that 
 is  ready  to  take  pofteffion  of  thy  mind.  It  is  the  Di- 
 vinity himfeif,  that  would  pour  into  thy  foul  delights 
 ineffable,  that  would  dwell  in  thee,  and  join  thee  to 
 himfeif  in  an  eternal  union,  which  will  raife  thee  to 
 blifs  and  glory  above  thy  mofl  extenfive  wifhes,  beyond 
 thy  mofl  elevated  conceptions. 
 
 SECT.    IX. 
 
 Mifcellaneous  Thoughts,  and  Dire6lions,  chiefly  Moral. 
 
 IF  the  reader  fhould  find,  among  the  following  apho- 
 rifms,  fome  thoughts  to  much  the  fame  purpofe  with 
 others,  in  other  parts  of  this  work ;  it  is  hoped,  he  will 
 excule  fuch  a  repetition,  in  confideration  of  the  variety 
 of  matter,  and  the  ufefulnefs  of  the  fubjeds  ;  which  wili 
 bear  being  inculcated  in  the  moft  copious  manner. 
 
 Cc  It 
 
38(3  TIIE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  ni'. 
 
 .It  is  not  the  part  of  a  wife  man  to  be  eager  after  any 
 thing,  but  improvement  in  goodnefs.  All  things  elfo. 
 may  be  difpcnfed  with. 
 
 To  learn  to  talk  well,  learn  tirft  to  hear. 
 
 Reiift  vice  at  the  beginning,  and  you  will  conquer  it: 
 in  the  end. 
 
 A  clear  confcicnce  is  better  than  a  clear  eftat-e. 
 
 Never  think  a.  thought,  fpcak  a  word,  or  do  a  deed^. 
 but  what  you  may  be  fafe  in  fetting  about  with  the  fol- 
 lowing pref\ice.  *'  O  God  my  Maker  and  Judge,  I  do» 
 **  not  forget,  that  thou  art  witnefs  to  what  1  am  about.'* 
 
 Has  not  fa fh ion  a  conliderable  fhare  in  the  charities 
 of  the  age  ?  Let  every  one,  who  gives,  carefully  coniider 
 from  what  motives  he  acts. 
 
 If  you  have  a  vvell-difpofed  mind,  you  will  go  into 
 no  company  more  agreeable,  or  more  uieful,  than  your 
 own.  All  is  not  well  witli  thofe  to  whom  folitude  is- 
 difagreeable. 
 
 It  is  no  fliame  to  learn.    The  fhame  is  to  be  ignorant.. 
 
 Torgive  every  body  rather  than  youifelf. 
 
 If  you  have  health,  a- competency,  and  a  good  con-^ 
 fcience,  what  w^^uld  you  have  belides  ?  Something  to 
 difturb  your  happinefs  ? 
 
 To  expect,  young  man,  that,  your  life  fliould  be  one 
 continued  feries  of  pleafure,  is  to  expedt  to  meet  with 
 what  no  mortal,  from  Ada7n  down  to  the  prefent  times, 
 has  yet  niet  with  ;  and  what  by  the  nature  of  things^ 
 "would  be  more  ftrange,  than  the  throv/ing  the  fame 
 number  with  a  die  ten  millions  of  times  fuccellively. 
 
 When  you  hear  in  company,  or  rea.d  in  a  pamphlet^, 
 fomewhat  fmart  and  lively,  and  quite  new  to  you,  urged 
 againft  any  opinion,  or  maxim  allowed  by  men  of  the 
 freell  fentiments,  and  moll  improved  underftandings ; 
 do-notlet  yourfeif  be  immediately  perverted  by  it.  But 
 fuppofe,  that,  though  it  may  be  new  to  you,  it  may  have 
 been  often  ilarted  and  anfvvered  ;  and  though  you  can- 
 not at  once  confute  it,  others  can.  And  make  it  your 
 bufinefs,  if  the  point  be  of  confequence,  to  find  out  thofej^ 
 "who  can.  Nothing  is  more  weak,  than  to  be  daggered 
 in  your  opinion  by  Qszry  trifle  that  may  fall  in  your. 
 
 Accuftom 
 
'^/virtue.)  *  HUMAN  NATUHS.  3SJ 
 
 Accullom  yourfelf  to  think  the  greatell  part  of  your 
 life  already  pail ;  to  contract  your  views  and  fchemcs, 
 and  fet  light  by  a  vain  and  tranfitory  Hate,  and  all  its 
 Vain  enjoyments. 
 
 To  feel  old  age  coming  on,  will  fo  little  mortify  a 
 wife  man,  that  he  can  thiiik  of  it  with  pleafare  •,  as  the 
 dtcay  of  nature  fliews  him  that  the  happy  change  of 
 ftit-',  for  which  he  has  been  all  his  life  preparing  him- 
 felf,  is  drawing  nearer.  And  furely  it  mull  be  defirable, 
 to  find  himfelt  draw  nearer  to  the  end  and  the  reward 
 of  his  labours.  The  cafe  of  an  old  man,  who  has  no 
 comfortable  profpecl  for  futurity,  and  finds  the  fatal 
 hour  approaching,  which  is  to  deprive  him  of  all  his 
 happinefs ;   is  too  deplorable  for  any  words  to  reprefenc. 
 
 It  is  eafy  to  live  well  among  good  people.  But  (liew 
 me  the  man,  vvho  can  preftrve  his  temper,  his  wifdom, 
 and  his  virtue,  in  fpite  of  ftrong  temptation  and  univer- 
 fal  example. 
 
 It  is  hardly  credible  what  acquifitions  in  knowledge 
 one  may  make,  by  carefully  hufbanding  and  properly 
 Applying  every  fpare  moment. 
 
 Are  you  content  to  be  for  ever  undone,  if  you  fliould 
 happen  not  to  live  till  the  time  you  have  fet  for  repent- 
 ance ?  If  fo,  pat  it  off  a  little  longer,  and  take  youe 
 chance. 
 
 It  is  a  ihame,  if  any  perfon  poorer  than  you  is  more 
 contented  than  you. 
 
 Strive  to  excel  in  what  is  truly  noble.  Mediocrity  is 
 contemptible. 
 
 Judge  oF  books,  as  of  men."  There  is  none  wholly 
 faultlefs,  or  perfed.  That  produdion  may  be  faid  to  be 
 a  valuable  one,  by  the  perufal  of  which  a  judicious  rea- 
 der may  be  the  wifer  and  better ;  and  is  not  to  be  de- 
 fpifed  for  a  few  deficiencies,  or  inconfillencies. 
 
 Do  not  think  of  lying  for  the  truth,  or  working  the 
 v/orks  of  the  devil  for  God's  fake. 
 
 Honelly  fometimes  fails :  But  it  is  becaufe  diligence 
 or  abilities  are  wanting.  Otherwife  it  is  naturally  by 
 far  an  over-match  for  cunning. 
 
 A  bad  reputation  will  lie  a  ftumbling-block  in  your 
 
 C  c  2  way 
 
3Sg  The  dignity  of  (Book  lit 
 
 way  to  rifing  in  life,  and  will  difable  you  from  doing 
 good  to  others. 
 
 If  ever  you  was  dangeroully  ill,  what  fault  or  folly 
 lay  hcavieft  upon  your  mind  ?  Take  care  to  root  it  out, 
 without  delay,  and  without  mercy. 
 
 An  unjuft  acquifition  is  like  a  barbed  arrow,  that 
 muft  be  drawn  backward  with  horrible  anguifh  ;  elfe  it 
 will  be  your  deflru(5lion. 
 
 To  excel  greatly  in  mufic,  drawing,  dancing,  the  pe- 
 dantic parts  of  learning,  play,  and  other  accomplilhments, 
 rather  ornamental  than  ufeful,  is  beneath  a  gentleman, 
 and  flievvs,  that  to  acquire  fach  perfection  in  trifles,  he 
 muft  have  employed  himfelf  in  a  way  unworthy  the 
 dignity  of  his  ftation.  The  peculiar  accompliihments, 
 in  which  a  man  of  rank  ought  to  fhincj  are  knowledge 
 of  the  world,  acquired  by  hiilory,  travel,  converfation, 
 and  bufinefs ;  of  the  conftitution,  intereit,  and  the  laws 
 of  his  country  ;  and  of  morals  and  religion ;  without 
 excluding  fuch  a  competent  underllanding  of  other  fub- 
 jedls,  as  may  be  confiftent  with  a  perfed  maftery  of  the 
 accomplifliments  which  make  the  gentleman's  proper 
 calling. 
 
 The  meaneft  fpirit  may  bear  a  flight  afflidion.  And 
 in  bearing  a  great  calmity,  there  is  great  glory,  and  a 
 great  reward, 
 
 A  wife  man  will  improve  by  ftudying  his  own  pad 
 follies.  For  every  flip  will  dilcover  fome  weaknefs  ftill 
 uncorreded,  which  occafioned  his  mifljehaviour ;  and 
 will  fet  him  upon  effcdually  redrefling  every  failure. 
 
 There  is  fomewhat  arch  in  the  Roman  Catholics  put- 
 ting their  carnivals  before  Lent.  Mirth  is  generally  the 
 prelude  of  repentance. 
 
 To  be  drawn  into  a  fault,  fhews  human  frailty.  To  be 
 habitually  guilty  of  folly,  fhews  a  corrupt  mind.  To  love 
 vice  in  others  is  the  fpirit  of  a  devil,  rather  than  a  man; 
 being  the  pure,  dilintererted  love  of  vice,  for  its  own 
 fake.     Yet  there  are  fuch  charaders ! 
 
 Remember,  your  bottle-companions  will  not  bear  you 
 company  at  your  death  ;  nor  lighten  your  fentence  at 
 the  dreadful  day  of  judgment.  Let  the  vicious  there- 
 fore 
 
Of  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  5^9 
 
 fore  go  alone  at  prefent ;    fince   their  company  ipay 
 heighten,  but  will  not  abate  your  punifliment. 
 
 Froofs  of  genuine  repentance  are,  abllaining  from  all 
 temptations  to  the  fame  vice,  thorough  reformation,  and 
 all  poffible  reparation. 
 
 Take  care  of  thofe  vices  which  refemble  virtues. 
 
 To  abufe  the  poor  for  his  poverty,  is  to  infult  God's 
 providence. 
 
 Seek  virtue  rather  than  riches.  You  may  be  fure  to 
 acquire  the  firft„  but  cannot  promife  for  the  latter.  No 
 one  can  rob  you  of  the  firft  without  your  confent;  you 
 may  be  deprived  of  the  latter  a  hundred  ways.  The 
 firlt  will  gain  you  the  efleem  of  all  good  and  wife  men ; 
 the  latter  will  get  you  flatterers  enough  ;  but  not  one 
 real  friend.  The  firlt  will  abide  by  you  for  ever ;  the 
 latter  will  leave  you  at  death,  to  ftiift  as  you  can  for 
 eternity. 
 
 Moral  truths  are  as  certain  as  mathematical.  It  is  as 
 certain,  that  good  is  nor  evil,  nor  evil  good,  a?  that  a 
 part  is  lefs  than  the  whole,  or  that  a  circle  is  not  a 
 triangle. 
 
 What  matter  what  you  know,  if  you  do  not  know 
 yourfelf? 
 
 It  is  pity  that  moil  people  overdo  either  the  a(2:ive  or 
 contemplative  part  of  life.  To  be  continually  immerfed 
 in  bufinefs,  is  the  way  to  become  forgetful  of  every 
 thinsf  truly  noblr  and  liberal.  To  be  wholly  engaged 
 in  iludy,  is  to  iofe  a  great  part  of  the  ufefuinefs  of  a  fo- 
 cial  nature.  How  much  better  would  it  be,^  if  people 
 would  temper  adtion  with  contemplation,  and  ufe  action 
 as  a  relief  to  ftudy  ? 
 
 You  may  eafily  know,  whether  you  are  in  earncil 
 about  reforming,  and  living  virtuoufly.  If  you  be,  you 
 will  fly  from  ei^ery  temptation  to  vice,  and  carefully 
 purfue  every  help  to  virtue.  As  you  may  know  w^ie- 
 ther  you  love  money,  by  obferving,  whether  you  care- 
 fully purfue  the  means  for  getting,  and  cautioufly  avoid 
 occafions  of  expence  or  lofs. 
 
 Never  force  nature.  When  ftudy  becomes  a  bwrden, 
 give  it  over  for  that  time.  You  will  not  improve  by  it, 
 if  it  goes  againft  the  grain. 
 
 C  c  J  Prefervc 
 
590  THE  DIGNITY  Oi;  (Book  IK. 
 
 Preferve,  if  you  can,  the  efteem  of  the  wife  and  good. 
 But  more  efpecially  your  own.  Coniider  how  deplorable 
 a  condition  of  mind  you  vvill  be  in,  when  your  con- 
 fcience  tells  you,  you  are  a  villain. 
 
 It  is  not  eating  a  great  quantity  of  food  that  nouriihes^ 
 moil :  Nor  devouring  of  books  that  gives  folic!  know- 
 ledge. It  is  what  you  digeft,  that  feeds  both  body  and 
 mind.  Have  your  learning  in  your  head,  and  not  i^ 
 your  library. 
 
 You  had  better  find  out  one  of  your  ow^n  weaknefles, 
 than  ten  of  your  neighbour's. 
 
 There  is  only  one  fingle  objedl  you  ought  to  purfue 
 at  all  adventures ;  That  is  virtue  :  All  other  things  are 
 to  be  fought  conditionally.  What  fort  of  man  mull  he 
 be,  who  refolves  to  be  rich  or  great  at  any  rate  .'' 
 
 If  you  give  only  with  a  view  to  the  gratitude  of 
 thofe  you  oblige,  you  deferve  to  meet  with  ingratitude. 
 If  you  give  from  truly  diiinterefted  motives,  you  will 
 cot  be  difcouraged  or  tired  out  by  the   word  returns. 
 
 Rather  be  the  bubble,  than  the  biter. 
 
 Do  your  duty,  if  the  Vv^orld  fliould  laugh.  Obedience 
 to  the  Almighty  Governor  of  the  univerfe,  is  what  one 
 would  hardly  think  iliould  draw  ridicule  upon  a  man. 
 But,  however,  if  men  will  be  fo  abfurd  as  to  laugh 
 at  you  for  what  is  your  greatefl.  wifdom  ;  wait  patiently 
 the  final  ilTue,  and  then  it  vvill  be  {qcii  who  aded  the 
 ridiculous  part.    - 
 
 If  it  fhould  be  hard  to  do  your  duty,  it  is  evidently 
 not  impoffible.  To  mention  none  of  the  Chriftran  he- 
 roes, there  is  not  a  virtue  which  the  Heathens  have  no^ 
 flicwntobe  practicable.  Do  not  pretend  that  a  Chriftian 
 cannot  be  chafte,  when  you  know  that  a  young  Scipio 
 bravely  refilled  a  mofi  powerful  temptation  of  that  kind, 
 in  yielding  to  which,  he  would  have  aded  only  accord- 
 ing to  the  cullom  of  thofe  times.  Do  not  pretend  that 
 it  is  impoflible  for  a  Chriftian  to  forgive  injuries,  vvhe^ 
 you  know,  that  FhocioTiy  going  to  fufTer  death  unjuflly, 
 charged  it  upon  his  fon,  with  his  lall  breath,  that  he 
 Ihould  fhew  no  refentment  againft  his  father's  perfecu- 
 tors.  Do  not  excufe  yourfelf  in  giving  up  the  truth, 
 through  fear  of  offending  thofe,  on  whom  you  depend, 
 
 wh£4 
 
fi)J Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  391 
 
 when  you  know  that  Attilius  Regulus  gave  himfelf  up 
 to  tortures,  and  death,  rather  than  faHify  his  word  even 
 to  his  enemies.  Let  it  not  be  laid  that  a  Chriftian,  with 
 his  clear  views  of  an  over-ruling  Providence,  fliall  be 
 overcome  with  afflidion,  or  impioufly  murmur  againft 
 the  great  Difpofer  of  all  things,  when  we  find  an  Epicte^ 
 tus,  funk  in  mifery  and  llavcry,  vindicating  the  Divine 
 dilpofal  of  himfelf,  and  fubduing  his  mind  to  the  dif- 
 penfations  of  Providence.  Do  not  excufe  yourfclf  from 
 a  little  expence,  trouble,  or  hazard  of  ill-will,  for  the 
 general  good,  when  you  know,  that  a  Leonichis,  a  Cal^ 
 purnius  Flanima,  the  Decii,  and  hundreds  more,  volun- 
 tarily devoted  themfelves  to  deftruciion,  to  fave  their 
 country.  If  you  pretend  to  be  a  Chriftian,  that  is,  to 
 profefs  the  mcft  pure  and  -Kiofl  fublimc  principles  in 
 the  world,  do  not  iiifamoufly  fall  ihort  of  the  perfedlion 
 of  un-enlightened  Heathens. 
 
 If  a  temptation  folicits,  think  whether  ycu  would 
 yield  to  it,  if  you  knew  you  fl^ould  di.o  next  day. 
 
 Be  affured,  whatever  you  may  think  now,  when  you 
 come  to  a  death-bed,  you  will  think  you  have  given 
 yourfelf  up  too  much  to  pleaftires,  and  other  worldly 
 purfuits,  and  be  forry  that  you  had  fo  large  a  fhare  of 
 ihem. 
 
 A  good  man  has  nothing  to  fear  :  A  bad  man  every 
 thing. 
 
 It  is  not  eafy  to  keep  the  mean  between  temporizing 
 too  much,  and  giving  a  proper  teilimony  for  decency 
 and  virtue,  when  one  fees  them  outraged. 
 
 Do  not  regard  any  perfon's  opinion  of  you,  againd 
 your  ow-n  knowledge. 
 
 Obferve,  whether  vice  does  not  deform  the  mod  ami- 
 able perfons. 
 
 •Cuitom  will  have  the  fame  effect,  with  refped  to 
 death,  as  to  other  frightful  things ;  it  will  take  off  its 
 terror. 
 
 To  underft^md  a  fubjecl  well,  read  a  fet  of  the:  befl 
 authors  upon  it ;  make  an  abllracl  of  it ',  and  talk  it 
 over  with  the  judicious. 
 
 There  are  no  little  fins. 
 
 C  C4  It 
 
392  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  III, 
 
 It  is  in  any  man's  power  to  be  contented  ;  of  very  few 
 to  be  rich.  The  firit  will  iiifailibly  makf  yon  h  ippy  ; 
 which  is  niore  than  you  can  dc^pend  on  from  the  latter. 
 
 He  who  begjns  foon  to  be  good,  is  like  to  be  very 
 good  at  laft. 
 
 Take  care  not  to  go  to  the  brink  of  vice,  left  you  fall 
 down  the  precipice. 
 
 If  you  have,  or  have  not,  a  chance  for  happinefs  ii\ 
 the  next  life,  it  cannot  fignify  much  how  you  pafs  the 
 prefent.  Would  you  pity  a  perfon,  who  was  obliged 
 to  travel  in  bad  weather,  and  put  up  with  mean  accom- 
 modations, as  he  was  going  to  take  poffellion  of  a  fine 
 eftate  ?  Or  would  yovi  envy  one,  who  had  a  pleafant 
 day  to  go  to  execution  ? 
 
 If  you  have  the  efteem  of  the  wife  and  good,  dp  not 
 trouble  yourfelf  about  the  reft.  And  if  you  have  not 
 even  that,  let  the  approbation  of  a  well-informed  con- 
 fcience  make  you  eafy  in  the  mean  while.  Tnne  will 
 come,  when  you  mav  command  the  other :  1  mean 
 when  you  have  had  the  public  approbation  of  an  infal- 
 lible Judge  be'bre  angels  and  men. 
 
 A  good  man  gets  good  out  of  evil.  A  wicked  maq 
 turns  good  to  evil. 
 
 Falhion  ought  to  have  no  wiMght  in  matters  of  any 
 greater  confequence  than  the  cut  of  a  coat,  or  a  cap. 
 Numbers  do  not  alter  right  and  wrong.  If  it  ftiould 
 be  the  fafliion  of  this  world  to  ad  fooliibiy  and  wickedly, 
 depend  on  i^  the  falhion  of  the  next  will  be,  for  virtue' 
 to  be  rewarded  and  vice  to  be  puniftied. 
 
 If  you  can  find  a  place,  where  you  may  be  hid  from 
 God,  and  your  confcience,  do  there  what  you  will. 
 
 Obedience  is  the  great  lefl'on  to  be  taught  children. 
 It  is  what  the  All-wife  Teacher  would  bring  mankind  to. 
 
 If  you  adt  only  with  a  view  to  praile,  you  defervQ 
 none. 
 
 Liften  to  confcience,  and  it  will  tell  you,  whether 
 you  really  do  as  you  would  be  done  by. 
 
 Virtue  in  theory  only  is  not  virtue. 
 
 That  bad  habits  are  not  quire  unconquerable,  is  evi- 
 dent from  j[)<f//^o///^^//<?j-,  Cicero,  and  many  others:  But  that 
 they  are  very  troublefome  todeui  with,  and  grow  always 
 
 ftronger 
 
O/Firtue.J  HUMAN  NATURE.  3^3 
 
 ftronger  and  flronger,   univerfal  experience  proves  too 
 fufficiently. 
 
 Do  not  deceive  yourfelf :  The  true  preparation  for 
 death,  is  not  living  at  random  to  threefcore,  and  ihea 
 retiring  from  the  world,  and  giving  up  a  few  of  the  laft 
 years  of  life  to  prayer  and  repentance  :  But  cultivating 
 in  your  mind,  from  the  beginning,  the  fubftamijl  vir- 
 tues, which  are  the  true  ornament  of  a  worthy  charac- 
 ter and  which  naturally  fit  for  endlefs  happinefs. 
 
 He  only  is  truly  viituous,  who  would  be  [o^  if  he 
 had  no  profpecl  of  gaining  more  happinefs  by  virtue 
 than  vice :  though  at  the  ftme  time,  it  is  reatonable, 
 and  commendable,  to  have  a  due  refpe(^  to  the  recom* 
 pence  of  reward,  as  things  are  at  prefent  conftituted. 
 
 The  lot  of  mankind,  upon  an  average,  is  wonderfully 
 equal.  The  diftribution  of  happinefs  is  not  fo  irregu- 
 lar, as  appears  at  firft  view.  There  cannot  indeed  be 
 any  great  inequality  in  the  diflribution  of  what  is  fo 
 inconliderable  as  the  temporal  happinefs  enjoyed  by 
 mankind.  1  he  contented,  retired,  and  virtuous  man 
 has  the  befl  fliare. 
 
 Who  could  iniagine  it  poffible  to  forget  death,  whicU 
 every  object  puts  one  in  mind  of,  and  every  moment 
 brings  nearer  ? 
 
 What  a  ftran,8;e  condition  a  man  muft  be  in,  whofe 
 judgment  and  pradice  are  at  variance.  If  a  man  does 
 nor  pertedly  agree  with  his  wife,  they  can  lometunes 
 avotd  one  another's  company,  and  fo  be  eafy.  But  can 
 one  run  away  from  himielf  ? 
 
 Of  all  virtues,  patience  is  oftenell  wanted.  H. w  un--, 
 happy  murt  hebe,  whois  whplly  unfurniflied  with  what 
 Is  wanted  every  moment  ? 
 
 He,  who  endeavours  to  drown  thought,  and  ftifle  con- 
 fcience,  or  who  goes  on  in  expenlive  living,  without 
 looking  into  his  affairs,  is  about  as  wife,  as  he  who 
 fhould  (hut  his  eyes,  and  then  run  toward  the  precipice, 
 as  if  his  not  feeing  the  danger  would  annihilate  it. 
 
 That  the  ways  of  virtue  are  preferable  to  thofe  of  vice, 
 is  evident,   in  that  we  do  not  find  people  in  old  age, 
 licknefs,  or  on  a  death-bed,  repenting,  that  they  have 
 lived  too  virtuouily  5  but  the  contrary.     This  is  a  ge- 
 neral 
 
^ff  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (CoolIIL 
 
 neral  confeffion  from  mankind,  and  at  a  time  when  they 
 certainly  are  fincere.  And  they  would  give  the  fame 
 teftimony  to  virtue  at  other  times,  if  they  could  aifen- 
 gage  themfelves  from  the  prejudices  and  paffions,  which 
 blind  them. 
 
 A  good  man,  when  he  comes  to  die,  has  nothing  to 
 do,  but  to  die. 
 
 Perhaps  no  created  nature  could  be  happy,  without 
 ]having  experienced  the  contrail  of  unhappinefs. 
 
 As  no  chnracter  is  more  venerable  than  that  of  a  wife 
 old  man  ;  fo  none  is  more  contemptible  than  that  of  an 
 old  fool. 
 
 It  makes  wretched  work,  when  the  married  pair  come 
 to  difputing  about  privilege  and  fuperiority. 
 
 There  is  nothing  more  foolifli  than  for  tnofe  to  fall 
 out,  who  mud  live  together,  as  hulband  and  vviKe,   and 
 luch  near  relations.     But  there  is  no  falling  out  without' 
 tolly  on  one  fide  or  the  other,  or  both. 
 
 The  folly  of  ibme  people  in  converfatio  ,  is  beneath 
 criticifra.  The  only  way  of  anfwering,  ^hem  is  to  go 
 out  of  hearing. 
 
 Confider  with  yourfelf,  whether  tlie  wife  and  good 
 would  value  you  more  or  lefs,  than  they  do  now,  if  they 
 knew  your  whole  charader. 
 
 It  is  well  when  old  people  know  that  they  are  old. 
 Many,  on  the  contrary,  ftill  affedl  to  fet  themfelves  off 
 as  unimpaired  in  abilities  both  bodily  and  mental,  long 
 enough  after  they  have  outlived  themfelves. 
 
 It  isneccfTary  often  to  find  fault.  And  the  only  way  to 
 do  it,  fo  as  to  be  regarded,  is  to  keep  up  your  own  dig- 
 nity. A  mailer,  whoblufl:ers  and  fvvears  at  his  lervanr, 
 is  defpifed  ;  wliilc  he,  who  reproves  vvith  mildnefs  and 
 gravity,  is  likely  to  be  reverenced  and  obeyed. 
 
 What  embitters  the  common  accidents  of  life  to  moll 
 people  is,  their  entertaining  a  foolifli  notion,  that  cala- 
 mities are  unnatural,  and  that  we  have  a  right  to  the 
 pleafures  of  life.  Whereas  the  true  (late  of  the  cafe  is, 
 that  afflidlion  is  what  v/e  greatly  need,  and  richly  de- 
 ferve,  and  that  the  pleafures  of  life  are  the  mere  gift  of 
 God,  which  therefore  he  tnay  withhold,  or  bellow  as  he 
 fees  fit. 
 
 The 
 
PfVirtKe.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  ^9$ 
 
 The  ufe  of  reading  is,  to  fettle  your  judgment ;  not 
 to  confound  it  by  a  variety  of  opinions,  nor  to  enflave  it 
 bj  authority. 
 
 If  you  will  not  liften  to  calm  rcafon,  take  care  left 
 you  be  made  to  feel  the  rod  of  fevere  affliction.  If  God 
 ioves  you,  he  will  drive  you  from  your  follies,  if  you  will 
 be  drawn  from  them. 
 
 If  you  are  ever  fo  fure  that  you  ought  to  refent  an  in- 
 jury, at  leaft  put  off  your  refentment  till  you  cool. 
 You  will  gain  every  end  better  by  that  means,  and  can 
 lofe  nothing  by  going  cautioufly  and  deliberately  to 
 work  ;  whereas  you  may  do  yourfelf,  or  your  neigh- 
 bour, great  milchief,  by  proceeding  raflily  and  haftily. 
 
 If  you  find  you  cannot  hold  your  own  with  the  world, 
 without  making  fnip wreck  of  confcience  and  integrity; 
 retire  in  time  with  a  flock  of  honeliy,  rather  than  con- 
 tinue in  bufinefs  to  retire  at  laft  with  a  ftock  of  wealth, 
 which  will  not  yield  you  happinefs  when  your  integrity 
 is  gone. 
 
 The  giver  is  the  creditor;  the  receiver  the  debtor. 
 Had  you  not  better  be  the  former  than  the  latter  ? 
 
 Married  people  ought  to  conlider,  that  the  keeping 
 TLip  of  mutual  love  and  peace  is  of  more  confequence 
 than  any  point,  which  either  the  one  or  the  other  can 
 want  to  gain,  where  life  or  fortune  are  not  engaged. 
 Let  the  hufoand  confider,  that  it  fuits  his  fuperior  wif- 
 (dom  to  yield  to  the  weaker  in  ordinary  cafes.  Let  the 
 wife  remember  fne  foiemnly  promifed  to  obey. 
 
 The  devil  is  feared  and  hated. 
 
 The  confcioLifnefs  of  having  aded  from  principle,  and 
 without  the  praife  or  privity  of  any  perfon  whatever,  is 
 a  pleafare  fuperior  to  ail  that  applaufe  can  yield. 
 
 Why  do  you  defire  riches  and  grandeur  ?  Becaufe  you 
 think  they  will  bring  happinefs  with  them.  The  very 
 thing  you  want  is  now  in  your  power.  You  have  only 
 to  ftudy  contentment. 
 
 Don't  be  frighted  if  misfortune  flalks  into  your  hum- 
 ble habitation.  She  fometimes  takes  the  liberty  pf  walk- 
 ing into  the  prefence-chamber  of  kings. 
 
 Be  open  with  prudence.  Be  artful  with  innocence : 
 Wife  as  the  ferpent,  harmlefs  as  the  dove.     If  either  of 
 
 tkefc 
 
395  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  Ilf. 
 
 thefe  two  qualities  muft  predoniinate,  by  all  means  let 
 it  be  the  larter. 
 
 It  is  a  fhameful  wickednefs,  common  in  trade,  to 
 conceal  the  faults,  or  artfully  heighten  the  good  quali- 
 ties of  what  one  wants  to  fell,  or  to  dilparage  any  ar- 
 ticle one  has  a  mind  to  buy,  in  order  to  have  it  the 
 cheaper.  That  trader,  who  cannot  lay  his  hand  upon 
 his  heart,  and  fav,  God,  who  knows  all  things,  knows  I 
 ufe  my  neighbour  as  I  would  wifli  to  be  ufed,  is  no  other, 
 in  plain  En^li/Ij,  than  a  downright  knave. 
 
 To  love  a  woman  merely  for  her  beauty,  is  loving  a 
 corpfe  for  the  fake  of  its  being  covered  with  a  fair  Ikin. 
 If  the  lovely  body  has  a  bad  foul  in  it,  jt  becomes  then 
 an  objedt  of  averfion,  not  of  affedion. 
 
 Never  think  yourfelf  out  of  danger  of  a  diforder  of 
 body  by  ficknefsj  or  of  the  mind  by  paffion. 
 
 Thofe  who  have  not  courage  to  relill  fafnionj,  would 
 ill  refift  tortures. 
 
 Nothing  can  materially  hurt  you,  but  what  hurts 
 your  virtue. 
 
 When  we  hear  of  one  dead  fuddenly,  we  are  furprifed. 
 Whereas  the  g  eat  wonder  is,  that  a  machine  of  fucK 
 frail  materials,  and  exquifite  workmanfhip,  as  the  hu- 
 man body  is,  Ihpuld  hold  in  motion  for  an  hour  to- 
 gether. 
 
 Let  a  man  confider  what  the  general  turn  of  his 
 thoughts  is.  It  is  that  which  charaderifes  the  man. 
 He  who  thinks  ofteneft,  and  dwells  longeft  on  worldly 
 things,  is  an  earthly  man.  He  whofe  mind  is  habitu- 
 ally employed  in  divine  contemplation,  is  a  heavenly 
 man. 
 
 Abfolute  refignation  to  the  divine  difpofal,  teaches 
 neither  to  defire  to  live  nor  to  die. 
 
 In  proportion  to  the  grief  and  fhame  which  a  bad 
 action  would  have  caufed  you,  fuch  will  be  your  jo^ 
 and  triumph  on  reflecling,  that  you  have  bravely  re- 
 liiled  the  temptation. 
 
 Are  not  the  great  happiefl  when  mofl:  free  of  the  in- 
 cumberances  of  grcatnels?  Is  there  then  any  happinefs 
 in  greatnefs  ? 
 
 z  Forgive 
 
tf  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  3^7 
 
 Forgive  others  who  have  fallen,  and  be  on  your  guard 
 left  you  yourielf  fall.     The  angels  in  heaven,  and  the 
 firft  of  our  fpecies  in  innocence  have  fallen. 
 
 The  hand  of  time  heals  all  dileafes.  Human  Nature 
 cannot  long  continue  in  violent  anger,  grief,  or  diftreft 
 of  any  kind.  Spare  youifelf  immoderate  uneafinefs. 
 The  time  will  come,  when  all  thefe  things  which  now 
 engage  you  fo  much,  will  be,  as  if  they  never  had  been; 
 except  your  own  charadler  for  virtue  or  vice. 
 
 If  you  live  fuch  a  life,  that  you  may  be  able,  upon 
 rational  grounds,  to  be  patient  at  the  laft  hour,  when 
 your  near  friends  lofe  all  patience,  you  will  fhew  your- 
 felf  a  true  hero. 
 
 Don't  be  uneafy  if  you  cannot  mafter  all  fcience. 
 You  may  eafily  know  enough  to  be  good  and  happy. 
 
 He  who  fufFers  lull  to  fteal  away  his  youth,  ambition 
 his  manhood,  and  avarice  his  old  age,  may  lament  too 
 late  the  ftiortnefs  of  the  ufeful  part  of  his  life. 
 
 If  you  have  a  family,  it  is  no  more  allow^able  that  you 
 fqander  away  your  fuKftance,  than  for  a  fteward  to  em- 
 bezzle the  eftate  of  which  he  is  manager.  You  are  ap- 
 pointed fteward  to  your  children;  and  if  you  negled;  to 
 provide  for  them,  be  it  at  your  peril. 
 
 A  truly  great  mind,  from  mere  reverence  for  itfelf» 
 would  not  defcend  to  think  a  bafe  thought,  if  it  was 
 never  to  be  known  to  God  or  man. 
 
 This  book  is  not  likely  to  be  read  by  any,  W'hofe  fta- 
 tion  in  life  is  not  fuch,  that  thoufands  and  millions  of 
 mankind  would  think  worthy  of  envy.  It  will  then  be 
 very  ftrange  if  it  fhould  be  read  by  any  difcontented 
 perfon. 
 
 He  that  has  no  ftiame,  has  no  grace. 
 
 Before  you  think  of  retiring  from  the  world,  be  fure 
 that  you  are  fit  for  retirement.  In  order  to  which  it  is 
 neceffary  that  you  have  a  mind  fo  compofed  by  pru- 
 dence, reafon,  and  religion,  that  it  may  bear  being 
 looked  into  •,  a  turn  to  rural  life  ;  and  a  love  for  ftudy. 
 
 He  who  is.  free  from  any  immediate  diftrefs,  and  can- 
 not be  happy  now,  it  is  in  vain  tor  him  to  think  he  ever 
 fhall,  un^efs  he  changes  the  temper  of  his  mind,  which 
 is  what  hinders  his  happinefs  at  prefent. 
 
 Do 
 
^  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IK 
 
 Do  not  grieve  for  him  who  is  departed  out  of  a  trou- 
 blefomc  and  dangerous  ftate  into  a  better.  If  a  relation, 
 or  an  acquaintance,  is  gone  into  the  other  world,  wholly 
 unprepared  for  it,  his  cafe  is  truly  lamentable. 
 
 The  advantage  our  paffions  have  over  us,  is  owing  to 
 ourfelves.  We  may  eafily  gain  fach  a  knowledge  of 
 bur  own  vi^eaknefs,  as  to  feel  them  rifmg  before  they 
 be  got  to  the  height :  And  it  is  our  ov/n  fault  if  we 
 do  not  reltrain  them  in  time. 
 
 The  moil  violent  fliaking  wall  not  fhake  the  limpid 
 watei:  in  a  glafs  muddy  :  But  a  little  dilUirbance  will 
 defile  that  in  the  Vvxll,  or  river.  If  it  were  not  for  the 
 impurity  of  the  mind  itfelf,  the  fhock  of  temptation 
 would  liave  no  eifeft. 
 
 Whoever  knows  his  own  weakneffes,  and  has  the 
 fenfe  to  endeavour  to  get  rid  of  them,  will  find  himfelf 
 as  fully  employed,  in  his  own  mind,  as  a  phyiician  in 
 an  hofpital. 
 
 It  may  not  be  in  your  power  to  excel  many  people 
 in  riches,  honours,  or  abilities :  But  you  may  excel 
 thoufands  in  what  is  incomparably  more  valuable,  I 
 mean  fubllantial  goodnefs  of  heart  and  life.  Hither 
 turn  your  ambition.     Here  is  an  objed:  worthy  of  it. 
 
 Nothing  is  of  any  value  to  you  that  you  make  a  bad 
 ufe  of. 
 
 You  cannot,  you  fay,  find  time  to  examine  yourfelf, 
 whether  you  are  prepared  for  death.  It  is  no  matter, 
 you  muft  find  time  to  die. 
 
 It  is  no  matter  what  you  fpend  your  life  in,  if  you 
 negledl  the  very  bufinefs  of  life. 
 
 You  may  acquire  great  knowledge,  and  be  the  worft 
 for  it  at  laft. 
 
 Don't  think  of  giving  a  Ihilling,  while  you  owe  a 
 pound. 
 
 Shall  hypocrify  get  footing  among  Chriftians  ?  and 
 (hall  a  Heathen  have  the  character  of  having  rather  de- 
 fired  to  be  virtuous  than  to  be  thought  fo? 
 
 I  know  no  fight  more  naufeous  than  that  of  a  fond 
 hufband  and  wife,  who  have  not  the  fenfe  to  behave 
 properly  to  one  another  before  company  :  Nor  any  con- 
 
 3  verfatioiv 
 
Of  Virtue)  HUMAN  NATURE.  50^ 
 
 verfation  more  fliocking  than  that  of  a  fnarling  couple, 
 who  are  continually  girding  at  one  another. 
 
 Confider  how  uncommon  it  is  to  live  to  old  asre  1 
 and  take  care  to  hold  yourfelf  iii  conilant  readinefs  for 
 death. 
 
 The  unthinking  bulk  of  mankind  are  ever  amufing 
 thernfdves  with  fome  paifuit  foreign  to  themfclves.  A 
 wife  man  is  ever  looking  inward. 
 
 It  is  no  wonder  if  he  who  reads,  converfes,  and  me- 
 ditates, improves  in  knowledge.  By  the  firli,  a  man 
 converfes  with  the  dead  ;  by  the  fecond,  with  the  liv- 
 ing; and  by  the  third,  with  himfelf.  So  that  he  ap- 
 propriates to  himfelf  all  the  knowledge  which  can  be 
 got  from  thofe  who  have  lived,  and  from  thofe  now 
 alive. 
 
 Let  no  man  refufe  a  pardon  to  others,  but  he  who 
 does  not  need  it  for  himfelf. 
 
 A  very  ignorant  man  may  have  a  very  learned  li- 
 brary. A  very  learned  man  may  be  a  very  contemptible 
 creature. 
 
 If  it  were  fafe  to  put  off  repentance  and  reformation 
 to  the  very  laft  day  of  life,  how  do  you  know  that  this 
 is  not  it  ? 
 
 Endeavour  to  do  all  the  good  in  your  power.  Be  as 
 adlive,  with  prudence,  as  if  you  was  fure  of  fuccefs. 
 When  you  meet  a  difappointment,  let  it  not  abate  your 
 diligence,  nor  put  you  out  of  humour.  And  when 
 you  have  done  all,  remember  you  have  only  done  your 
 duty. 
 
 The  Dutch  will  not  fuffer  the  fmallefh  breach  in  their 
 dykes  for  fear  of  an  inundation.  Do  not  you  fuffer  the 
 fmalleit  paffage  for  vice  into  your  heart,  left  you  find 
 your  virtue  quite  overflowed. 
 
 Do  not  be  unhappy  if  you  have  not  married  a  pro- 
 fefled  beauty.  They  generally  admire  themfelves  fo 
 much,  they  have  no  love  left  for  their  huihands.  Be- 
 lides,  it  might  not  perhaps  have  been  very  agreeable, 
 to  you  to  fee  every  fellow,  as  you  went  into  public 
 places,  look  at  your  wife,  as  if  he  could  devour  her  with. 
 bis  eyes. 
 
 Take 
 
4(i)o*  THE  DIGNITY  Of  (Book  itfy 
 
 Take  no  ccunfel  with  fiefli  and  blood,  if  j'ou  afpire 
 at  what  is  truly  great. 
 
 A  foolifli  youth  makes  a  craxy  old  age. 
 
 Take  care  of  natural  bialTts,  as  felf-love,  pleafure^- 
 &:c.  Be  fure,  you  will  always  incline  enough  toward 
 the  bials  fide.  Therefore,  you  need  have  no  guard 
 upon  yourfelf  that  way. 
 
 The  angels  arc  faid  in  Scripture  to  defire  to  look  inta 
 the  Chrt'iian  fcheme,  as  if  to  learn  fomewhat*  Do  not 
 you  then  think  it  beneath  you  to  learn,  while  you  are 
 fo  much  interior  to  them.  The  moil  knowing  are  the 
 molt  delirous  of  knowledge.  The  molt  virtuous  the 
 moil  defirc.us  of  improvement  in  virtue.  On  the  con- 
 trary, the  ic^norant  think  themfelves  wife  enough  ;  the 
 ■vicious  are  in  their  own  opinion  good  enough. 
 
 In  bertirring  yourfelf  for  the  public  advantage,  re- 
 member, that  if  you  fhould  not  accomplifli  all  that  you 
 propofe,  you  will  however  have  employed  yourfelf  to 
 good  purpofe,  and  will  not  fail  of  your  reward,  if  you, 
 fliould  of  fuccefs. 
 
 Let  no  man  complain  of  the  (hortnefs  of  life,  but  he 
 who  can  fay  he  has  never  mifpent  one  hour. 
 
 Make  fure  firfl,  and  principally,  of  that  knowledge, 
 which  is  neceflary  for  you  as  a  man,  and  a  member  of 
 fociety.  Next,  of  what  is  neceffary  in  your  particular 
 way  of  life.  Afterwards,  improve  yourlelf  in  all  ufe- 
 ful  and  ornamental  knowledge,  as  far  as  your  capacity, 
 ieifure,  and  fortune  will  allow. 
 
 If  you  would  not  have  afflidlion  vilit  you  twice,  liften 
 at  once  to  what  it  teaches. 
 
 Never  caft  your  eye  upon  a  good  man,  without  re- 
 folving  to  imitate  him.  Whenever  }ou  fee  an  inflance 
 of  vice  or  folly  in  another,  let  it  be  a  warning  to  you 
 to  avoid  them. 
 
 "Where  i.-.  yeilerday  now?  With  the  years  before  the. 
 flood.  Bat  if  you  have  employed  it  well,  it  Hands  re-» 
 corded  above,  to  your  eternal  honour  and  advantage. 
 If  you  have  mifpent  or  negledcd  it,  it  will  appear 
 againll  you  at  the  laft  day. 
 
 Would  you  have  one  general  univerfal  remedy  for  all 
 difeafes,  Itudy  religion.     The  only  rational  ground  of 
 
 confolatiou 
 
'^J^lrttlc.)  I-iUMAN  NATURE.  4ci 
 
 confolation  in  the  various  diftrefles  of  life,  is  the  confi- 
 deration,  that  religion  propofes  a  politive  reward  for 
 bearing  with  dignity,  and  improving  by  affliftion,  and 
 that  afflictions  are  in  truth  our  greated  bkflings  and 
 proofs  of  the  Divine  favour. 
 
 If  you  unhappily  fall  into  fome  fatal  mifcarriage, 
 which  wounds  yoar  confcience,  and  ftiakes  your  life  a 
 burden,  confefs  it,  with  all  its  circumrtanccs,  lo  fome 
 judicious  and  tender-hearted  perfon,  in  whofe  fidelity 
 yoii  can  confide,  and  whofe  advice  mav  be  c.f  fervice  to 
 yoii.  Ifitbeoffuch  a  peculiar  nature,  that  yon  do 
 hot  think  it  prudent  to  confefs  yourfv-^lf  giitlty  of  fiich 
 a  thing,  fend  a  full  account  df  it,  written  in  a  difguifrd 
 hand,  deiiring  an  anfwer  in  writii^g.  When  you  have 
 the  opinion  of  a  judicious  perfon  upon  the  heinojfnefs 
 of  your  crime,  which  you  may  find  you  have  either 
 through  felf-love  thought  too  flightly  of,  or,  through  an 
 exceilive  tendernefs  of  confcience,  blamed  yourfelf  too 
 much  for,  imprefs  your  mind  properly  v/ith  a  fenfe  of 
 your  fault ;  humble  yourfelf  deeply  before  God  ;  and 
 refolve  bravely  no  more  to  be  guilty  csf  fuch  folly. 
 When  you  have  done  fo,  and  find  yoii  can  keep  to 
 your  refolutions,  it  is  not  neceffar^  that  you  continue 
 to  affiift  yourfelf  without  end  for  what  is  irrecoverably 
 paft.  Ihe  principal  part  of  repentance  is  reforma- 
 tion. 
 
 I  knov/  no  way  of  laying  out  a  few  fliillings  to  more 
 advantage,  either  for  protit  or  pleafare,  than  upon  ari 
 entertaining  and  inflru6ling  book.  But  this  expence  is» 
 greatly  overdone  by  fome,  and  ill  laid  o'ut  by  others. 
 
 While  you  are  unhappy  becaufe  your  tailor  has  noC 
 C.\xi  your  co?!t  to  your  mind,  rf^any  an  honeftmail  would 
 be  glad  to  have  one  that  would  only  keep  out  the  cold,;' 
 and  cannot.  While  you  are  in  a  paflion  with  your 
 cook,  becaufe  he  has  fpoiled  you  one  difh  among  fix, 
 many  a  poor  family,  who  are  fellow-creatures,  and  your 
 fellow  Chriftians,  are  at  a  lofs  for  bread  to  lupply  the 
 wants  of  nature.  Think  of  this,  and  give  over  with 
 fhame  your  foolifh  and  impious  complaints  againft  that 
 good nefs  of  Providence,  which  has  placed  you  in  cir- 
 cumftances  fo  much  above  perfons  of  equal  merit  withr 
 yourfelf.  D  d  Is 
 
402  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book III, 
 
 It  is  the  unhappinefs  of  human  life,  that  in  every 
 lunn's  conducl  there  has  always  been  fome  mifcarnage, 
 or  fome  misfortune  in  his  circumftances,  which  has  pre- 
 vented his  carrying  his  improvements  in  knowledge  and 
 ■virtue  the  length  which  might  have  been  wiftied  or 
 imagined.  To  make  the  moil  of  life,  fiich  a  number 
 of  concurrences  are  necelTary,  that  it  is  no  wonder  they 
 f;;ldom-  all  fail  to  the  fliare  of  any  one  perfon.  Health, 
 long-life,  fortune  ;  great  and  various  natural  abilities, 
 and  a  good  difpofition  ;  an  extenfive  education,  begun 
 early;  indijlatigable  diligence  to  carry  on  improve- 
 ments; a  fet  of  acquaintance  capable  of  afTilling  in  the 
 purfuit  of  knowledge,  and  of  encouraging  in  virtue  ; 
 and  ha[)pening  to  live  in  an  age  favourable  to  freedom 
 of  inquiry.  If  we  confider  the  improvements  fom.e 
 towering  gcniuffes  have  made  in  knowledge,  and  the 
 lengths  gone  in  exemplary  virtue  by  many  who  have 
 laboured  under  innumerable  difadvantages,  we  cannot 
 help  lamenting,  that  they  were  not  favoured  by  Provi- 
 dence with  the  others,  nor  imagining  what  inimenfe 
 heights  they  muft,  in  fome  circumftances,  have  reached. 
 The  moll  remarkable  concurrence  of  all  kinds  of  ad- 
 vantages that  ever  was  ;  and  the  mod  ftupendous  ef- 
 fects in  confequence  of  it,  will  probably,  as  long  as 
 this  world  lafis,  be  the  admiration  and  delight  of  all 
 who  are  judges  of  the  fubiime  labours  of  the  greateft  of 
 philofophers,  and  beft  of  men,  the  glory  of  our  country, 
 and  of  Huma,n  Nature^  Yet  even  in  him  (though  a 
 fort  of  fuperior  beings  when  compared  with  the  reft  of 
 the  Ipecies,)  it  is  polTible  to  imagine  fome  circumftances 
 different,  and  to  the  advantage.  To  what  heights  then 
 may  our  nature  rife  in  future  ftates,  when  every  poflible 
 advantage  ftiall  concur ! 
 
 Do  not  pretend  to  negled:  or  trifle  with  your  duty, 
 unlefV  you  have  found  out  uiiqueftionable  and  demon- 
 ftrat.ive  proof,  that  the  general  fenfe  of  mankind  in  all 
 ages  and  nations,  that  virtue  is  the  perfedion  of  Hu- 
 man Nature,  and  the  frire  way  to  happinefs,  and  vice 
 the  contrary,  is  a  grofs  abfurdity  and  falfehood;  that 
 the  Bible  is  a  forgery  ;  and  that  the  belief  of  a  judge- 
 ment to  come  is  ^  dream.     If  you  be  EOt  asTure  of  all 
 
 this. 
 
X^f  Virtue.)  HUMAN  NATURE,  405 
 
 this,  as  that  twice  two  are  four,  if  there  be  the  fmalleft 
 poffibility  that  it  may  be  othervvife.  it  is  the  very  def- 
 peration  of  madnefs  to  run  the  leall  hazard  of  the  de- 
 ftruction  of  your  loal  by  living  a  wicked  bfe. 
 
 Death-bed  repentance,  and  death-bed  charity,  are 
 much  of  a  kind.  Men  give  up  their  vices  and  their 
 money  when  they  can  keep  rhem  no  longer. 
 
 Can  any  perfon  ferioufly  think  that  he  was  formed  ca- 
 pable of  reaton,  virtue,  and  religion,  only  to  eat,  drink, 
 divert  himfelf,  and  die.^ 
 
 Accuftom  yourfelf  to  the  ftri6t  obfervance  of  your 
 duty  in  all  refpects,  and  it  will  in  time  be  as  trouble- 
 fome  to  omit,  or  to  violate  it,  as  it  is  to  many  people  to 
 praclife  it. 
 
 Study  to  grov/  every  day  vvifer  and  better  :  For  every 
 d^y  brings  you  nearer  to  death. 
 
 It  is  llrange  to  hear  unthinking  people  dcfcant  upon 
 the  acftrons  of  men  of  univerfaliy  acknowledged  abilities, 
 and  to  fee  them  take  it  for  granted,  that  they  have  adecl 
 a  part  entirely  inconiillent  with  their  known  characflers  ; 
 which  people  very  rarely  do,  and  which  it  is  therefore 
 very  unreafonable  to  fuppofe.  If  you  were  told  of  a 
 mifer's  having  done  a  generous  thing,  would  you  not 
 be  apt  either  to  doubt  the  fad:,  or  to  conclude,  that  it 
 muft  have  appeared  to  him  a  likely  way  of  getting 
 fomewhat  ?  If  you  were  told  of  a  very  pafdonate  man's 
 bearing  an  infult  with  exemplary  patience,  would  you 
 not  be  furprifed  ?  Why  then  ihould  you  rafnly  give 
 into  the  belief,  that  a  perfon,  whofe  good  underftanding 
 you  are  apprized  of,  has  played  the  fool  ?  or  one,  whofc: 
 integrity  is  known  to  you,  has  ailed  a  treacherous  part? 
 Hear  the  accufed  before  you  condemn. 
 
 Value  learning  as  much  as  you  nliule.  But  remem- 
 ber, a  judicious  thinker  is  incomparably  fuperior  to  \i 
 great  reader. 
 
 What  can  be  more  monftrous  than  the  common  ex- 
 cufes  for  unfaithful nefs  to  the  marriage-bed?  People 
 give  their  vows  to  one  another  in  the  molt  foleran 
 manner;  and  then  their  lirlt  work  is  to  think  how 
 to  break  them.  They  marry  for  better  for  worfe  ; 
 '  for  richer  or  poorer,    younger    or  older ;   handfomer 
 
 D  d":L  or 
 
404  THE  DIGNITY  OF,  &€. 
 
 or  plainer.  And  then,  when  they  come  to  repent  of 
 their  tbili  choice,  thty  pretend  to  excufe  the  breach  of 
 folemn  >ou's  by  the  prettxt  of  deiedls  they  find  in 
 one  anoiher  ;  cf  which  it  is  wholly  their  own  fault  if 
 thes  were  not  iufficieutly  apprized  before  their  coming 
 together. 
 
 To  defeat  calumny,  i.Defpi^eit.  To  feem  difturbed 
 about  it,  is  the  way  to  make  it  be  believed.  And  flab- 
 bing  your  defan^er  will  not  prove  }cu  innocent.  2.  Live 
 an  exemplary  life,  and  then  your  general  good  ch^^radter 
 ■will  overpower  it.  3.  Speak  tenderly  of  every  body, 
 even  of  your  defameiSy  and  you  will  make  the  whole 
 world  cry.  Shame  on  them  who  can  find  in  their  hearts 
 to  injure  one  fo  inoffenlive. 
 
 You  Tay,.  your  misfortunes  are  hard  to  bear.  Your 
 vices  are  like  wile  hard  to  be  forgiven.  Is  it  terrible  to 
 think  af  your  fuflering  pain,  ficknefs,  poverty,  or  the 
 lols  of  dear  friends  or  relations  ?  It  is  more  terrible  to 
 think  of  your  having  offended  the  infinitely  great  and 
 good  Creator,  Preferver,  and  Judge  of  the  world,  your 
 kind  and  bountiful  Father  and  belt  Friend.  Is  pain  a 
 great  evil?  Vice  is  a  gi eater.  It  is  rebellion  againft  the 
 Supreme  Authority  of  the  univerfe.  Is  the  lols  of  a  be- 
 love-d  wife  like  teaiing  limb  from  limb  ?  So  is  fallehood^ 
 cruelty,  or  ingratitude,  like  unhinging  the  univerfe,  and 
 bringiig  chaos  back  again  :  For  they  tend  to  univerfal 
 diforder,  and  the  de.ftrudion  of  the  creation  of  God, 
 Do  you  fliudder  at  the  thought  of  poverty  or  difeafe  ? 
 Think  with  what  eye  Infinite  Purity  mull  behold  wick- 
 ednefs  ;  with  what  abhorrence  abfolute  Perfed:ion  mufl 
 fee  the  ruin  produced  in  his  works  by  irregularity  and 
 vice.  Do  you  defire  to  efcape  mifery  ?  Fly  from  fin. 
 Do  you  wifh  to  avoid  punilhment?  Above  all  things 
 avoid  wickednefs,  the  caufe  of  it. 
 
 THE 
 
T   HI  -  jr-^ 
 
 I    G   N   I    T    Y 
 
 or 
 
 HUMAN       NATURE. 
 
 BOOK   IV. 
 
 Of  Revealed  Religion. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 THAT  it  is  in  itfelf  agreeable  to  reditude,  neceflary 
 to  the  Dignitj^  of  Haman  Nature,  and  the  requi- 
 site concurrence  of  moral  agents  with  the  general  fcheme 
 of  the  Governor  of  the  univerfe,  that  we  Hxidy  above 
 all  things  to  perform  our  whole  duty,  viz.  Taking  pro- 
 per care  of  our  bodies  and  of  our  minds,  lovmg  our  fel- 
 lovv-creatures  as  ourfelves,  and  loving  and  fervmg  our 
 Creator;  that  this  is  our  indiipeafable  duty,  and  that 
 the  habitual  negled;,  or  violation  of  it,  upon  whatever 
 pretence,  will  expofe  us  to  the  Divine  dilpleafure,  as 
 the  confcientioas  obfervance  of  it  is  mod  likely  to  gain 
 us  his  favour,  and  confequently  tinal  happiuefs;  all  this 
 appears  clear  to  human  reafon,  fcparace  from  any  con- 
 lideration  of  the  truth  of  revelation,  and  deducibic  from 
 univerfally  acknowledged  principles.  And  if  it  may  bz 
 fuppofed  m  the  lowed  degree  probable,  that  the  kind 
 and  merciful  Parent  of  his  creatures,  who  would  have 
 all  men  to  be  faved,  and,  in  a  conhdency  with  eternal 
 and  immut'ible  reditude,  to  co:ne  to  that  happmefa,  of 
 which  their  nature  was  formed  cap.ibie;  if  it  m  ,y  be 
 conceived  in  the  loweit degree  probabie,that  God  diould 
 from  the  beginning  have  ordered  things  io,  that  one  me- 
 thod, among  others,  for  promoting univerfal  goodnef'<  and 
 
 D  d  3  happuiefs^ 
 
4o6  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 happinefs,  fhould  be,  the  appearance  of  an  exprefs  mef- 
 fage,'Or  revelation  from  himfeif,  with  a  fet  of  clearer 
 and  more  flriking  inllructionp,  than  had  been  'any  other 
 way  communicated  to  mankind;  if  this  be  conceivable 
 without  any  direct  abfurdiiy,  then  is  it  likewife  evident 
 from  the  principles  of  natin*al  religion  or  reafon.  that  it 
 is  the  indifpenfable  duty  of  ali  thofe  of  our  fpccies,  to 
 whom  any  fuch  fuppofed  Divine  meflyge,  or  revelarion, 
 may  be  offered,  to  beftow  the  utmoft  diHgence  in  ex- 
 aTiining  its  pretenfions,  and,  if  found  fufficienf,  to  ad- 
 mit them  with  candor  and  finccrity  of  mind,  and  to  re- 
 ceive the  revelation  itfelf  v;irh  that  veneration  and  fub- 
 miffion,  which  it  becomes  dependent  creatures  to  exprefs 
 to  Him  who  fent  it. 
 
 That  there  is  nothing  direclly  abfurd,  or  contradic- 
 tory to  reafon,  in  the  fuppofition  of  the  pofiibility  of  a 
 revelation  given  from  God,  for  the  reformation  and  im- 
 provement of  mankind,  is  evident  from  its  having  been 
 the  opinion  and  the  hope  of  the  wifeft  and  bell  of  man- 
 kind, in  all  ages  and  various  nations.  Socrates,  Plato^ 
 Confucius,  and  others,  the  bright  and  burning  lights  of 
 antiquity,  have  given  their  authority  to  the  opinion  of 
 the  probability  of  a  revelation  from  God.  They  have 
 declared,  that  they  thought  it  an  affair  of  great  confe- 
 quence  to  re-kindle  the  light  of  reafon,  almoft  extin- 
 guifhed  by  vice  and  folly  ;  to  recal  a  bewildered  race 
 of  beings  into  the  way  of  virtue,  to  teach  mankind,  with 
 certainty  and  authority,  how  they  o«ght  to  behave  to- 
 ward their  Creator,  fo  as  to  obtain  his  favour  and  the 
 pardon  of  their  offences.  Thty  who  were  the  bell  qua- 
 lified of  all  uninfpired  men  of  thofe  ancient  times  for 
 inftructing  mankind,  were  ready  to  own  themfelves  in- 
 fufiicient  for  the  talk  of  reforming  the  world.  And  it 
 is  notorious,  that  their  worthy  labours  were  in  no  re- 
 fpedt  adequate  to  the  univerfal,  or  general  amendment 
 of  manners,  even  in  the  countries  in  which  they  lived 
 and  taught.  For  that  themfelves  greatly  wanted  iti- 
 ftrudion,  appears  plainly  from  what  they  have  writ 
 upon  fome  of  the  moft  important  points  of  morals,  as 
 the  immortality  of  the  foul ;  the  nature,  degree,  and 
 continuance  of  the  rewards  and  punifliments  of  the  fu- 
 
 tur^ 
 
Revealed  Religion.)      HUMAN  NATURE.  4C7 
 
 tiire  ftate,  and  the  nie-ans  of  'Otjining  the  pardon  of 
 fin.  And  that  their  leflbns  fliould  have  any  conhder- 
 able  or  powerful  influence  upon  the  people  in  general, 
 was  not  to  be  expected,  as  they  could  at  beft  but  give 
 them  as  their  opinions;  reafoii.ible  indeed,  and  clear  in 
 the  main,  to  any  underllanding,  which  fliould  take  the 
 trouble  to  examine  ;  but  backed  with  no  authoritative 
 fandion,  or  Divine  atteitation,  to  command  attention 
 n  d  obedience. 
 
 It  is  evident,  that,  as  there  can  be,  on  one  hand,  no 
 .merit  in  believing  what  is  true,  even  religious  truths 
 vi^ithout  examination  (for  nothing  is  virtuous,  or  prnife- 
 worthy,  that  is  irrational ;  and  it  is  irrational  to  receive 
 for  truth  what  one  has  no  folid  reafon  to  think  is  true)  ; 
 fo  on  the  other,  to  reject  truth,  efpecially  religious  truth, 
 on  any  indired:  or  dilingenuous  account,  or  for  any  rea- 
 fon, befides  fome  unfurmountable  inconfiftency  in  the 
 dodtrine,  or  deficiency  in  the  evi4ence,  is  perverfe  and 
 wicked.  The  faith,  therefore,  that  is  acceptable  to 
 God,  who  is  alike  the  Author  of  both  reafon  and  reve- 
 lation, is  that  rational  reception  of  religious  truth,  vvhicli 
 arifes  from  candid  aqd  diligent  examination,  and  a  due 
 fubmiffion  to  Divine  Authority.  And  the  unbelief, 
 which  is  condemned  in  Scripture,  is  that  rcjedlion  of 
 the  revealed  Will  of  God,  which  is  owing  to  prejudice, 
 negligence,  pride,  or  a  fatal  attachment  to  vice. 
 
 The  guilt  of  wilfully  rejecting  or  oppofmg  Divine 
 Truth  mufl;  be  more  or  lefs  atrocious,  according  as  the 
 advantages  for  inquiry,  and  fatisfaction  upon  the  fubjed, 
 are  greater,  or  lefs.  Tlie  inhabitants  of  the  dark  and 
 barbarous  parts  of  the  world,  and  even  of  the  countries, 
 which  are  over-run  by  PopiQi  fuperilition,  will  therefore 
 be  found  nmch  mere  exculabie  for  their  deficiencies 
 both  in  faith  and  practice,  than  we  of  thia  enlightened 
 age,  and  nation,  who  enjoy  every  imagniable  advantage 
 for  free  inquiry,  and  labour  under  no  kind  of  bias  cither 
 toward  credulity  or  the  contrary,  but  what  we  clioc^fs 
 to  fubjedl  ourieives  to. 
 
 Befides  our  bf-ing  indifpenfably  obliged,  in  point  of 
 duty,  to  take  the  utmoft  ca-e,  that  a  genuine  reveianon 
 tVom  God  do  not  meet  with  negied,  much  lefs>  diiin- 
 
 D  d  4  genuous 
 
4^8  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  If. 
 
 genuous  oppofition,  from  us ;  it  is  al{l>  to  be  confidered, 
 what  conducl  wifdom  prefcribes  in  fuch  a  cafe.  Were 
 there  no  guilt  in  treating  revelation  with  contempt,  or 
 oppofition,  yet  no  man  of  prudence  would  wilfuliy  de- 
 prive himfelf  of  any  probable  advantage  for  information 
 and  improvement,  from  whatever  quarter  it  might  come. 
 Nor  will  any  wife  man  thiii^^  lightjy  of  a  fcheme  in- 
 tended, as  Divine  Revelation  is,  for  the  important  ends 
 of  republifliing,  with  a  fet  of  authoritative  fanclions,  the 
 religion  of  nature,  and  fixing  beyond  all  difpute  the 
 duty  of  mankind,  and  the  means  for  attaining  their 
 greateil:  happinefs  ;  and  for  communicating  to  them  va- 
 rious in;iportant  truths  not  known  before,  nor  difcover- 
 able  by  human  reafon.  That  reve:lation  has  efieclually 
 done  thefe  things,  vv'iil  appear  by  the  general  viev/  of  it. 
 tjiat  vv^ill  be  exhibited  in  the  fecond  fedion. 
 
 A  direcl,  explicit  law,  given  by  Divine  Authority,  is 
 the  very  thing  which  fuch  a  fnort-ilghted,  and  imperfe6t 
 order  of  beings  as  mankind,  were  peculiarly  in  w^ant  of. 
 Nor  is  any  method  fo  tit  for  governing  a  fet  of  creatures 
 generally  unqualified  for  reafoning  out,  vrith  proper 
 clearnefs  and  certainty,  the  means  of  attaining  happi- 
 nefs, as  a  diftind  fyltem  of  rules  of  conducl  guarded  by 
 proper  fan£lions.  is  not  all  human  government  confti- 
 tuted  on  that  foundation  ?  When  a  new  ftate  or  colony 
 is  to  be  fettled,  do  the  founders  truft  to  the  reafon  of  ij 
 Miixed  multitude  for  the  obfervance  of  equity,  the  fe- 
 mirity  of  property,  and  happinefs  of  the  whole  ?  And 
 ■^s  it  not  a  more  effeclual  wdj  to  lead  mankind  to  the 
 lJ|^  of  God,  and  one  another,  to  give  them  an  exprefs 
 law  to  that  purpofe,  than  to  leave  it  to  their  oxvn  rea- 
 fonings,  to  tind  out  their  duty  to  their  Creator,  and  to 
 on«  another,  and  whether  they  might  triiie  with  it,  or 
 re|3lve  faithfully  to  perform  it  ?  Therefore  mankind, 
 have,  probably,  in  no  age  been  wholly  left  to  their  own 
 reafon :  but  a  (landing  politive  inflituticn  has  all  alonp; 
 been  kept  up  in  one  part  of  the  world,  or  other  ;  and 
 would  in  all  probahility  have  been  more  luiiverfaily,  as 
 •^vell  as  more  confpicuoully  eftabliflied  ;  but  for  the 
 wickednefs  of  mankind,  which  rendered  then  unworthy 
 ©f  partaking  univerfally  of  this  blefiing,  and  occafioned 
 
Pi>^JcdReJ:glo:i.)      HUMAN  NATURE.  4a^ 
 
 jts  being  imparted  to  them  in  a  more  obfcurc  and  li- 
 mited manner. 
 
 We  are  at  prefent  in  a  ftate  of  difcipline  ;  and  everj 
 thing  is  intended  as  a  part  of  our  trial,  and  means  of 
 improvement.  Revelation  may  be  coniidered  in  the 
 fame  liglit.  A  mefluge  from  heaven  is  brought  to  our 
 ears,  attended  with  fuch  evidences,  as  may  be  fufficient 
 to  convince  the  unprejudiced  mhid  of  its  being  genuine; 
 but  at  the  fame  time  not  lb  ufcertaiued,  but  that  pre- 
 tences for  cavilling  at,  and  oppoiing  it,  may,  by  diUn- 
 genuous  men,  be  found.  If  this  gives  an  opportunity 
 for  the  exercife  of  honell  inquiry,  and  exhibits  in  the 
 fairelt  light  the  difrerent  characters  of  the  fincere,  but 
 cautious,  and  inquilitive  lover  of  truth  ;  of  the  indolent, 
 unthinking,  and  credulous,  who  believes  with  the  multi- 
 tude •,  and  of  the  perverfe  and  dilingenuous,  who  re;e(fbs 
 whatever  is  not  fuitable  to  his  ways  of  thinking  or  living; 
 if  revelation  does  thefe  things,  is  it  not  to  be  reckoned  one 
 pf  the  nobleit  trials  of  the  prefent  Hate  ?  And  is  it  not 
 promulgated  in  the  very  manner  it  ought  to  have  been. 
 
 Standing  oracles  were  probably  fome  of  the  firll  me- 
 thods v.'hich  the  Divine  Wif  lom  made  ufe  of  to  com- 
 municate particular  exprefs  informations  to  mankind- 
 There  v/as  an  appointed  place,  to  which  worfhippers 
 f  eforted,  and  copiulting,  received  anfvvers,  and  diredlions. 
 Spiritual  beings  vvere  employed  in  revealing  the  Divine 
 Will  to  mankind.  And  in  vifions  and  dreams,  commu- 
 jrtications  were  given  to  men  of  charaders  eminent  for 
 virtue  and  piety.  A  race  of  prophets,  or  perfons  under 
 Divine  Inituence,  fucceeding  to  one  another,  fo  as  there 
 fnould  be  no  long  period  without  one  or  more  fuch  in- 
 Ipired  rnen,  kept  up  an  impreliion  of  the  fuperinten- 
 4ency  of  God,  and  of  the  neceliity  of  obedience  to  Him. 
 But  we  knov/  of  no  method  fo  proper  for  communicating 
 
 iiankind  in  geneji^l,  a  fet  of  ufeful  informations  ;  fo 
 .')  'iyejdt  l^dntL.  donltant,  and  extenfive  advantage  to 
 
 Jfcitwd 
 
 em,'  as  geirv^ng/  con»it^  to  writing,  by  which 
 means  th^rare  e^y  accelBbie  to  all,  to  be  confulted  at 
 all  times  and  in  all  places. 
 
 The  revelation,  therefore,  with  which  we  are  blelTed, 
 has  been,  by  the  Divine  Providence  dire<5ted  to  be  penned 
 
4IO  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 by  Mofes^  the  Prophets,  and  Apollles ;  and  has  been 
 wonderfuily  preferved  for  many  ages,  free,  for  any  thing 
 we  know,  or  have  reafon  to  fulped:,  from  material  cor- 
 ruptions and  alterations  ;  and  in  it  Ave  have  all  informa- 
 tions neceffary  for  our  conducl  here,  and  happinefs 
 hereafter. 
 
 Whoever  choofes  to  enlarge  the  fphere  of  his  inquiry 
 as  wide  as  poffible,  may  examine  the  feveral  fchemes  of 
 religion,  which  have  pretended  to  a  Divine  Original, 
 and  by  comparing  them  together,  he  will  foon  find 
 which  bears  the  characters  of  being  truly  from  heaven. 
 
 As  to  us,  who  live  in  thefe  happy  realms  of  know^- 
 ledge  and  freedom  of  inquiry,  the  Religion  contained 
 in  the  Scripture  of  the  Old  and  New  Teftaments  offers 
 itfelf  more  immediately,  and  challenges  our  chief  and 
 moft  attentive  examination  ;  it  is  therefore  evident,  that 
 it  lies  immediately  upon  us  to  inquire  into  its  pretenfions ; 
 and  that  we  may  more  fafely  negled:  all  the  others  ; 
 none  of  which  the  Divine  Providence  has  given  us  io 
 fair  an  opportunity  of  examining,  or  made  fo  clearly  our 
 duty  to  inquire  into.  But  to  inquire  into  religion  in  an 
 impartial  manner,  a  man  muft  begin  with  fhaking  off 
 all  prejudice,  from  education  and  general  opinion,  and 
 muft  fuppofe  himfelf  a  mere  unprincipled  Indian^  not 
 bialTed  to  any  fpecies  of  religion  in  the  world.  He 
 muft  likew^fe  refolve  to  go  through  the  whole  of  what 
 he  is  to  examine  ;  not  contenting  himfelf  with  a  par- 
 tial and  imperfect  view  of  things,  which  is  the  way  to 
 acquire  imperfed  and  miftaken  notions.  He  muft  alfo 
 go  directly  to  the  fountain,  if  he  would  know  the  true 
 virtues  of  the  water  of  life  ;  that  is,  he  muft,  to  knov/ 
 the  religion  of  the  Scriptures,  go  direcrly  to  the  Scrip- 
 tures, and  ftudy  them  more  than  all  the  Syftems  or  Bo- 
 dies oT  Divinity  in  the  world. 
 
 There  is  no  greater  hindrance  to  the  candid  exami- 
 nation and  ready  reception  of  fo  pure  and  ftricT:  a  fcheme 
 of  Religion  as  the  Chriftian,  than  a,j5tal  attachment  to 
 vice.  This  was  the  original  obftacle,  which  retarded 
 its  eftablifhment  in  the  world,  at  its  firft  appearance  ; 
 has  prevented  its  progrefs  ever  fmce  ;  has  difguifed  and 
 deformed  its  native  beauty  \  has  almoft  v/holly  de- 
 feated 
 
Revealed Rtllglcn.)      HUMAN  NATURE.  411 
 
 feated  its  genuine  intention,  in  one  chnrcli  ;  and  railed 
 enemies  againft  it,  even  in  this  land  of  light,  in  an  age 
 immediately  fucceeding  to  the  times,  in  which  it  flood 
 the  examination  of  the  ableft  inquirers,  and  came  out 
 eftabliflied  upon  a  more  rational  foundation,  than  ever 
 it  flood  upon,  from  the  apoflolic  age  downwards.  It 
 will  therefore  be  neceifary,  above  all  things,  for  the  in- 
 quirer into  the  truth  of  Chriftianity,  to  purge  his  mind 
 from  every  corrupt  affection,  that  may  prompt  him  to 
 wiHi  to  find  it  fuipicious  or  falfe  ;  to  take  no  counfel 
 with  fleili  and  blood  ;  but  to  labour  to  work  himielf  up 
 to  that  pitch  af  heavenly-mindednei's,  which  it  requires; 
 that  fo  he  may  not  only  be  wholly  unprejudiced  againfl: 
 it,  but  may  be  difpoled  to  liften  to  reafon  in  its  favour, 
 and  may  find  within  himielf  a  witnefs  to  its  truth. 
 
 SECT.     I. 
 
 Previous  Objecliotis  againjl  a  Revelation  in  general,  and 
 that  of  Scripture  in  particular,  conjidered, 
 
 A  Revelation  had  not  been  given  to  mankind,  had 
 there  been  no  need  of  it,  in  fuch  a  fenfe  as  that 
 it  mufi:  prove  wholly  ufelefs  But  the  queflion  is,  whe- 
 ther it  is  not  an  abfurdity  to  talk  of  a  genuine  revela- 
 tion's being  needlefs,  or  ufelefs,  can  any  thing  be  faid 
 to  be  needlefs  or  ufelefs  that  is  calculated  to  improve 
 mankind?  If  a  fet  of  moral  inftruclions  from  one  per- 
 fon  will  be  of  any  fervice  to  me,  can  it  be  faid,  that 
 more  of  the  fame  kind  will  be  ufelefs  ?  If  1  had  already 
 digcfted  all  the  knowledge,  that  is  to  be  got  in  books, 
 and  by  converfation  with  the  wife  and  learned  of  my 
 own  fpecies,  would  the  converfation  of  a  fuperior  being 
 be  needlefs  and  ufelefs  to  me  ?  Nay,  if  the  archangel 
 Gabriel  had  in  his  power  to  receive  fome  new  inform- 
 ations by  Revelation  from  God,  would  he  negledl  them, 
 as  needlefs  and  ufelefs,  becaafe  his  knowledge  is  already 
 immenfely  extcniive  ?  Thofe  objedlors  to  Revelation, 
 who  talk  of  its  being  unneceffary,  do  not  feem  to  have 
 clear  ideas  to  their  words.  For  if  they  had,  they  never 
 would  think  of  limiting  the  Divine  Goodnefs  fo  his 
 creatures,  or  of  alleging,  that  their  advantages  for  hap- 
 pinefs  were  too  great.  Nor  would  one  think  that  Re- 
 ^ '  velaticn 
 
41^  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IT, 
 
 velation  fhould  ever  have  been  looked  on  as  fuperfluous, 
 by  any  perfoii  who  knew  the  world  ;  but  on  the  con- 
 trary, that  all  inch  would  readily  acknowledge,  that  if 
 ^t  were  poflible  to  have  yet  another  additional  Revela- 
 tion, or  advantage  tor  virtue,  mankind  would  not  then 
 be  at  all  too  good.  Nor  can  any  one  help  feeing  the 
 real  eventual  advantage  of  Revelation,  who  knows  any 
 thing  of  the  difference  between  the  copdifon,  as  to 
 knowledge  and  virtue,  of  ihpfe  ages  and  n.tion-,  which 
 have,  and  thofe  which  have  not  enjoyed  the  light  of  it. 
 And  here  it  is  to  be  remembered,  that  in  all  probability 
 it  is  a  very  fmall  part  of  our  knowledge  that  is  the  ge- 
 nuine acqUilirion  of  mere  hunsan  realon,  wholly  un- 
 allifted.  The  very  ufe  of  letters  feems  to  have  preten- 
 tions to  a  greater  author  than  Cadmus^  or  than  Mojes. 
 And  probably  the  whole  of  the  religious  knowledge  we 
 poiUfs,  is  originally  owing  to  rcvelariun. 
 
 The  deplorable  darkntfs  and  ignorance,  in  which 
 thofe  of  our  fpecies  are  found  involved,  who  have  lived 
 detached  from  the  reft  of  mankind,  and  have  never  en- 
 joyed, or  have  wholly  loft,  all  traces  of  revealed  know- 
 ledge (if  that  be  really  the  cafe  of  any  people,  which  is 
 to  be  doubted)  is  a  proof  of  the  advantage  ot  Revelation, 
 And  it  is  only  frqm  what  we  find  to  be  the  cafe  of  thofe 
 newly  difcovered  nations,  who  have  undoubtedly  few 
 fupernatural  advantages,  that  we  can  fairly  judge,  wha£ 
 the  ftate  of  mankind  in  general  would  have  been,  if  the 
 fpecies  had  been  left  whol.'y  to  themfelves.  For,  as  to 
 this  fide  of  the  globe,  it  is  to  be  queftioned,  if  there  ever 
 was  any  people  upon  it,  who  could  be  faid  to  be  in  a, 
 perfect  ft:ate  of  pature,  as  will  afterwards  appear. 
 
 The  defpifers  of  Revealed.  Religion,  on  account  of 
 the  Aii-fuf5ciency  of  human  reafon,  are  defired  to  con- 
 lider  the  following  proofs  of  its  boafted  fufficiency  iii 
 matters  of  both  belief  and  pradice. 
 
 The  only  account  we  have  of  the  Antediluvian  man- 
 ners, is  that  given  by  Mofes,  viz.  That  all  fiefli  cor-t 
 rupted  their  ways  to  fuch  a  degree,  as  to  render  it  ne- 
 celTary  to  purify  the  earth  by  a  general  deluge.  Of 
 the  partriarchal  times,  the  only  accounts  we  have  are 
 likewife  from  the  fame  venerable  writer ;  which  {hew 
 
 th^ 
 
Revealed ReUgiofi.)  llUMAN  NATIIRE.  -     415 
 
 the  people  of  ihofe  ages,  except  a  few  families,  to  have 
 befn  v^hoJlj  given  to  polytheifm  and  idolatry.  The 
 dtftrudi -n  of  the  five  cities  by  fire  from  lieaven,  for 
 the  mjlt  abominable  and  unriatutal  crimes,  fhevvs  the 
 ftare  of  corraplion  to  which  the  people  of  thofe  times 
 were  funk.  The  accounts  we  have  from  Herodotus  and 
 Diodorus  Siculi/s,  of  the  religion  of  the  Egyptians,  the 
 fathers  of  wifdom  and  learning,  are  the  dilgrace  of  hu- 
 man reafon.  Their  worlhipping  the  moft  contempti- 
 ble and  hatetul  animals,  as  crocodiles,  ftorks,  cats,  mon- 
 keys, and  calves;  to  kill  which  facred  animals,  was 
 deathby  their  law,  and  vvhichthey  carefully  embalmed, 
 and  folemnly  depofited  in  tombs  ;  aird  their  adoration 
 even  of  pknts,  as  leeks  and  onions  ;  thefe  are  ftrange 
 iniiances  of  the  fufFiciency  of  reafjn  forjudging  in  re- 
 ligious matters  I  They  alfo  (according  to  the  fame  au- 
 thoi )  allowed  of  theft ;  and  made  marriages  between 
 brothers  and  fillers  a  part  of  religion.  What  were  all 
 the  popular  religions  of  the  Pagans  in  general,  but  a 
 heap  of  abfurdities  ?  What  can  be  faid  of  their  deities; 
 ■whole  characters  were  too  fhocking,  for  men  and  wo- 
 men of  fuch  manners  to  be  fuffered  to  live  among  us  ? 
 And  left  there  fiiouM  be  any  want  of  fuch  hopeful  ob- 
 jed:s  of  worfliip,  they  multiplied  them  to  fuch  a  num- 
 ber, that  Va?'ro  reckons  up  a  little  army  of  them,  and 
 Lucian  reprefents  the  heavens  as  in  danger  of  being 
 broke  down  with  the  weight  of  fach  a  multitude.  The 
 horrid  pradlice  of  appealing  them  with  human  blood, 
 and  even  with  that  of  the  children  of  the  zealous  votaries 
 themfelves,  with  the  abominable  impurities  afcribed  to 
 them,  and  pradifed  by  their  blind  worlbippers  in  ho- 
 nour of  them,  fhew  what  notions  of  the  objed:,  and 
 nature  of  worihip,  human  reafon,  left  to  itfelf,  is  apt  to 
 run  into.  Thole,  who  had  better  notions  of  the  fupe- 
 rior  powers,  reprefent  them  as  either  quarrelling  and 
 fighting  {^Horner  makes  his  goddeiles  treat  one  another 
 with  the  language  of  BUlinfgate )  or  as  a  fet  of  idle 
 luxurious  voluptuaries,  ipending  their  whole  time  in 
 quaffing  of  nedar,  wholly  regardlefs  of  human  affairs. 
 In  Tome  ancient  nations,  every  young  woman  was 
 ©biiged  to  proftitute  herfsif  in  the  temple  of  Venusy  as 
 
 » icli« 
 
4r4  THE  DIGNI-rr  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 a  religious  ceremony.  Tbucydides  fays,  that  both  Greeks 
 and  Barbarians  thought  robbery  and  plunder  glorious. 
 The  whole  ancient  heroifm  was  indeed  little  elfe.  And 
 it  was  cnieliy  by  violence  and  brutal  fury,  that  the 
 Macedonian^  Roman^  and  other  dates  acquired  fuch  an 
 extent  of  doininion.  From  Horner^  and  other  writers, 
 down  to  the  Roman  hiftorians,  we  fee  how  the  manners  of 
 ancient  times  aJ  lowed  to  treat  captives  in  war.  Princesf 
 and  Princeiles  we  re  dragged  in  triumph  after  the  chariot 
 of  the  eonqueror ;  and  they,  and  the  inferior  people, 
 by  thoLifands,  butchered  in  cold  blood,  or  condemned 
 to  llavery  :  The  beautiful  part  of  the  female  captives 
 ihared  among  the  heroes,  and  condemned  to  proftitu- 
 tion,  and  infamy.  The  laws  of  Lycurgus  v/ere  founded 
 in  war  and  favage  heroifm,  and  allowed  ftealing,  un- 
 lefs  the  perfon  was  caught  in  the  facl.  Adultery  was 
 alfo  in  certain  cafes  eftabliOied  by  law.  Expofing  of 
 children  was,  among  the  Rovians^  according  to  La6tan- 
 tiuSy  a  daily  prad:ice.  Gladiators  butchering  one  ano- 
 ther by  thoufinds,  was  the  reigning  diveilion  among 
 tliofe  lords  of  the  world  for  ages.  And  it  was  comm.onj, 
 when  one  had  got  the  other  down,  for  the  conqueror 
 to  look  at  the  people  for  their  orders,  whether  to  fpare 
 or  kill  him,  which  they  often  gave  for  the  latter  ;  and 
 even  the  ladies,  if  we  may  believe  their  own  writers, 
 would  often  give  the  fignal  to  defpatch  a  poor,  con- 
 quered, helplefs  vidlim,  that  they  might  feail  their  fa- 
 vage and  unwomanly  hearts  with  fcenes  of  cruelty  and 
 blood.  The  authors  of  the  Grecian  wifdom  were  almofl 
 all  addicted  to  one  vice  or  other,  fome  more,  forae  lefs 
 fcandalous.  Their  fnarling,  and  impudence,  got  them 
 the  appellation  of  Cynics  ;  and  difputts  about  words  run 
 through  all  their  writmgs.  Too  many  of  both  Greek  and 
 i^07«^j/zphilofophers,  or  wife  men,  flattered  the  vices  of 
 princes.  Socrates  himfelf,  the  father  of  wifdom,  and  op- 
 pofer  of  poly  theifm,  encouraged  to  confult  the  oracles,  and 
 to  offer  facrifice  to  idols,  Plato^s  morals  were  fo  obfcure, 
 that  it  required  a  life-time  to  undei  itand  them.  Cicero 
 excufes  and  countenances  lewdnefs  m  iorae  parts  of  his 
 writings.  And  thofe  of  Seneca  are  not  without  their 
 poifon.  What  were  the  manners  of  the  polite  court  of 
 jdug'njlus  (to  fay  nothing  of  the  fea  of  blood,  through 
 
 which 
 
Revealed  Religion.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  415 
 
 which  he  fwam  to  the  imperial  throne)  is  pretty  evi- 
 dent from  the  abominable  and  unnatural  filthinels  fcat- 
 tered  through  the  writings  of  the  wits  of  that  elegant 
 age.  Which  of  the  ancient  fages  did  not  too  far  tem- 
 porize, and  conform  to  the  national  fuperftiiion,  con- 
 trary to  their  better  knowledge,  and  even  make  that 
 worlt  fpecies  of  dillimulation  a  part  of  the  duty  of  a 
 good  citizen  ;  the  confequence  of  which  was  the  effec- 
 tual rivetting  of  error,  and  prevention  of  reafonable  in- 
 quiry and  reformation.  It  is  certain,  that  whole  nations 
 have  placed  virtue  on  directly  oppofite  fides ;  and  that 
 the  wife  ancients  differed  in  their  notions  of  what  the 
 chief  good  of  man  confifted  in,  to  fuch  a  degree,  that 
 one  author  reckons  up  feveral  hundred  different  opi- 
 nions on  the  fubject.  This  fhews  that  the  underifand- 
 ing,  or  moral  ienfe,  though  fufficient,  when  illuminated 
 by  Divine  Revelation,  to  judge  of  truth,  is  not,  ff)r  all 
 that,  capable  of  ftriking  out  of  itfelf  fufficient  light, 
 fafely  to  guide  itfelf,  efpecialiy  overwhelmed  and  op- 
 prefTed  as  it  is  by  vice  and  prejudice.  The  mofl  fub- 
 lime  of  the  Heathen  phiiofophers  never  put  the  immor- 
 tality of  the  foul  (the  foundation  of  all  religion)  out  of 
 doubt.  On  the  contrary,  they  reprefent  it  as  at  belt 
 only  a  very  delirable  fcheme.  Of  a  general  refurrec- 
 tion  of  the  body,  an  univerfal  public  judgment,  and 
 final  happinefs  of  the  whole  Human  Nature,  foul  and 
 body,  in  a  Itate  of  everbfting  glory,  it  does  not  appear 
 that  they  had  any  clear  notions  ;  or  that  they  carried 
 their  views  beyond  the  Elyfian  flate.  None  of  them 
 could  fatisfy  a  thinking  mind  about  the  proper  means 
 for  propitiating  the  Deity,  or  v»^hether  guilt  was  likely 
 to  be  pardoned  at  all ;  nor  could  any  of  them  prefcribe 
 an  acceptable  method  of  addrefling  the  Object  of  wor- 
 Ihip.  On  the  contrary,  Plato  reprefents  the  wife  So- 
 crates as  at  a  full  (top,  and  advifing  not  to  worfliip  iit 
 all,  till  fuch  time  as  it  ftiould  pleafe  God  to  inform 
 mankind,  by  an  exprefs  revelation,  how  they  might 
 addrefs  him  acceptably.  IN  or  did  any  of  them  futii- 
 ciently  mculcate  humility,  the  foundation  of  all  virtues. 
 On  the  contrary,  the  very  fchemes  of  fome  of  the  fedts 
 were  rather  founded  in  pride  and  obitinacy.  Nor  did 
 2  *  any 
 
4i6  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Bock  if / 
 
 any  of  them  go  fo  far  as  to  fliew  that  forgiving  injuries, 
 loving  enemies,  and  ietting  the  affedicns  upon  the  fu- 
 ture heavenly  ftate,  were  abloluteiy  neceflary.  The 
 titmoft  that  any  of  them  did,  was  to  recommend  the 
 more  fublime  virtues  to  the  pradice  of  fuch  perfons  as 
 could  reach  them.  So  much  for  the  Heathen  dodnnes 
 and  morals. 
 
 Mahomet  is  knovim  to  have  abandoned  inmfelf  to  luft 
 nil  his  life  long.  His  impofturts  were  fo  grofs,  that 
 when  he  firft  broached  them,  his  belt  friends  v/ere 
 afhamed  of  both  hira  and  them.  His  religion  fets  up 
 on  the  foot  of  direct  violence  and  force  of  arms,  and 
 makes  fenfual  gratifications,  to  the  moll  exccffive  de- 
 gree of  beaftiinels,  the  final  reward  of  a  ftrid  attach- 
 ment to  it.  The  Koran,  fo  far  as  it  is  an  original,  is  a 
 heap  of  abfurd  do^Yiines,  and  tritlirig  or  bad  laws,  l"he 
 few  miracles  which  Mahomet  pretends  to  have  per- 
 formed, are  either  things  within  the  reach  of  human 
 power,  or  are  hideous'  and  incredible  ablurdities,  or  are 
 wholly  unattefted. 
 
 The  papifts,  who  pretend  to  be  Chriftians;  but  have 
 in  fact  forged  a  religion  of  their  own  ;  have  they  done 
 any  honour  to  the  opinion  of  the  ail-fufiiciency  of  rea- 
 fon  in  matters  of  religion  .''  Let  every  one  of  their  pecu- 
 liar doftrines  be  examined,  and  let  it  be  co.tifidered 
 what  advantage  it  is  of  to  mankind  for  regulating  their 
 belief,  and  praclice.  Their  invocation  of  faints,  who 
 ought  to  be  omni prefect,  to  hear  their  prayers  ; 
 which,  according  to  their  own  account  of  the  matter, 
 they  are  not.  Their  purgatory,  cut  of  which  the' 
 pried  can  pray  a  foul  at  any  time  for  money,  which 
 mull  defeat  the  very  defign  of  a  purgatory.  Their 
 penances,  pilgrimages,  fines,  abfolutions,  and  indulgen- 
 ces ;  whofe  dired  tendency  is  to  lead  the  deluded  vo- 
 taries of  that  curfed  fuperftition  into  a  total  negled  of 
 the  obligations  of  virtue,  defeating  the  very  end  of  reli- 
 gion. The  infallibility  of  their  popes,  while  one  thun- 
 ders out  bulls  and  decrees  diredly  contrary  to  tbofe  of 
 another.  And,  iail  and  worll  (for  it  is  endlefs  to  enu- 
 merate the  abfurdities  of  Popery)  that  moil  hideous 
 and  monftrous  of  all  productions  of  the  human  brain/ 
 Uanfubftantiation,  which  ai  once  confounds  all  knfe, 
 ^  overturns 
 
^e%*ea!ed Religion.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  417 
 
 overturns  all  reafoning,  and  renders  all  truth  precarious 
 and  uncertain.  Thefe  are  the  triumphs  of  reafon ; 
 thefe  the  produdions  of  human  invention,  when  applied 
 to  making  of  religions. 
 
 Upon  the  whole,  from  this  brief  and  imperfeft  repre- 
 fentation  of  the  (late  of  rliofe  parts  of  the  world  which 
 have  enjoyed  but  a  very  little  of  the  light  of  genuine 
 Divine  Revelation,  (for  it  is  to  be  doubted,  whether 
 any  was  ever  wholly  without  it)  and  of  thofe  which 
 have  wickedly  extinguifhed,  or  fooliQily  forfaken  it,- 
 from  this  very  brief  reprefentation,  I  fay,  human  reafon, 
 iinaffifted  from  above,  ftiews  itfelf  fo  far  from  fufficient 
 for  leading  mankind  in  general  into  a  completely  right 
 belief  and  prad:ice,  that  in  almoft  every  point,  beyond 
 mere  fimple  right  and  wrong,  it  milleads  into  error,  or 
 falls  fhort  of  truth.  As  the  naked  eye,  though  very  fit 
 for  directing  our  way  on  earth,  yetmifieprefents,  through 
 its  weaknefs,  every  celeflial  objed  •,  (hews  the  fun  no 
 bigger  than  a  chariot- wheel,  the  moon  flat  like  a  plate 
 offilver,  and  the  planets  like  lucid  points.  The  fame 
 eye  ftrengthened  by  a  telefcope  fees  the  fun,  and  moon, 
 and  planets,  large,  and  globular,  as  they  really  are.  Re- 
 velation is  that  to  reafon,  which  a  telefcope  is  to  the 
 eye ;  an  advantage  and  improvement.  As  he,  who 
 would  fee  the  wonders  of  the  heavens,  arms  his  eye 
 with  a  telefcope,  fo  does  the  judicious  inquirer  into  re- 
 ligious truth,  apply  to  revelation  for  thofe  informations, 
 which  reafon  alone  would  never  have  given,  though  it 
 judges  of,  and  approves  them,  when  given.  And  as 
 the  aftronomer  does  not  think  of  putting  out  his  eye, 
 in  order  to  fee  better  with  a  telefcope  ;  fo  neither  does 
 the  judicious  advocate  for  revelation  defire  to  oppofc  it 
 to  reafon,  but  to  examine  it  by  reafon,  and  to  improve 
 his  reafon  by  it. 
 
 The  abominable  prieft  craft,  and  horrid  perfecution 
 and  bloodflied,  which  have  been  the  difgrace  of  a  reli- 
 gion, whofe  diftinguilbing  charadleriftic  is  benevolence, 
 is  no  confutation  of  what  I  have  been  advancingin  fup- 
 port  of  the  natural  tendency  and  atlual  good  effeds 
 upon  a  great  number  cftiiankind,  of  pure  religion  ;  ind 
 only  faews  that  even  a  Divine  appointment  may  be  per- 
 
 E  e  verted 
 
■jfn  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book T^ . 
 
 verted  to  the  purpofe  of  eftablifhing  the  kingdom  of 
 Satan.  At  any  rate,  the  abufe  of  revelation,  is  no  bet- 
 ter objection  againft  revelation,  than  that  of  reafon  (of 
 which  every  hourprefents  us  various  inflances)  is  againft 
 reafon  ;  which  no  body  ever  thought  of  urging,  as  an 
 argument  that  it  was  not  of  Divine  original. 
 
 The  difputes  among  the  many  different  fe<£ts  of 
 Chriftians,  which  have  rendered  it  very  difficult  for 
 thofe,  who  fearch  for  the  do6lrrnes  of  revealed  religion, 
 flfty  where,  but  in  the  Bible  itlelf,  to  fettle  their  judg- 
 ment upon  many  points ;  thofe  difputes  are  no  juft  ob- 
 jection againft  revelation,  any  more  than  againft  every 
 branch  of  human  fcience  whatever;  upon  every  one  of 
 ■which,  not  excepting  even  the  pure  mathematics,  con- 
 troverfies  have  been  raifed.  A  revelation,  upon  which 
 it  ftiould  be  impoffible  for  defigning,  fubtle  men  to  raife 
 difputes,  is  hardly  conceivable ;  or,  however,  is  altoge- 
 ther inconfiftent  with  the  idea  of  a  contrivance  intended 
 for  the  improvement  of  a  fetof  free,  moral  agents;  who 
 muft  be  expefted  to  treat  revelation,  as  well  as  every 
 other  kind  of  information,  according  to  their  refpedive 
 capacities,  and  tempers  of  mind. 
 
 :  If  it  has  been  alleged,  that  for  God  to  have  recourfe 
 to  a  dired  raeffkge,  or  revelation,  for  reforming  or  im- 
 proving mankind,  or  fupplying  the  deficiencies  of  rea- 
 fon, looks  like  a  defect  in  the  make  of  the  creature  ; 
 and  that  reafon  ought  alone  to  have  been  made  origi- 
 nally equal  to  the  purpofe  of  enabling  mankind  to  fecure 
 their  final  happinefs ;  the  anfwer  is  eafy,  to  wit.  That 
 if  human  reafon  were  fuppofed  more  equal  to  the  pur- 
 pofe for  vvhich  it  was  given  than  it  is,  a  revelation  might 
 Itill  be  of  great  advantage.  And  that  to  fuppofe  an  ex- 
 prefs  contrivance  for  mending  the  moral  world  necelfary, 
 or  ufeful,  is  no  more  unphilofophical,  or  to  fpeak  pro- 
 perly, more  unworthy  of  God,  than  one  for  the  fame 
 purpofe,  in  the  natural  world.  And  this  latter  is  by 
 our  great  philofopher  allowed  to  be  probable. 
 
 Suppofing  it  reafonable  to  believe  that  the  Divine 
 Power,  either  immediately,  or  by  means  of  the  inter- 
 vention or  inftrumentality  of  inferior  agents  and  caufes, 
 does  coutinually  aduatethe  natural  world,  and  conduft 
 
 the 
 
I^evealed Religion.)    HUMAN   NATURE.  419 
 
 the  moral ;  is  not  this  a  continued  interpofitlon  ?  Why 
 then  fhould  the  thought  of  an  extraordinary  interpofi- 
 tion  on  an  extraordinary  occafion,  in  order  to  a  great 
 and  important  end,  be  lb  difficult  to  conceive?  At  any 
 rate,  what  mull  thofe  gentlemen,  v/ho  are  fo  ilartled 
 at  the  notion  of  an  extraordinary  ftep  taken  by  the  infi- 
 nitely wife  and  abfolutely  free  Governor  of  the  world  ; 
 what  mud  they  fay  of  the  creation  of  the  univcrfe  ? 
 Did  the  univerCe  come  into  exiftence  by  fettled  laws  of 
 nature?  Is  there  any  law  of  nature  by  which  nothing 
 becomes  fomething  ?  And  does  that  law  take  piace  at 
 fuch  and  fuch  precife  times,  and  no  other  ?  Let  the 
 oppofers  of  extraordinary  interpofitions  make  the  molt 
 of  that  difficulty,  they  mull  acknowledge  lomewhat  ex- 
 traordinary, as  they  chooie  to  call  it,  to  take  place  now 
 and  then  in  the  univerfe  on  occalion  of  the  creation  of 
 a  world.  And  it  does  not  appear  to  me,  tiiat  the  reflo- 
 ration,  or  (as  it  may  be  called)  making  a- new  a  world, 
 is  of  much  lefs  confequence,  or  lefs  worthy  of  a  parti- 
 cular interpofitlon,  than  the  fit  ft  creation  ot  it. 
 
 But  after  all,  what  is  it  thofe  gentlemen  puzzle  them- 
 felves  with  ?  Are  they  fure,  that  in  order,  the  giving  a 
 pofitive  revelation  to  mankind,  and  the  reftoration  of  a 
 world  by  means  of  fuch  an  inilitution  as  the  Chriftian, 
 there  is  any  thing  to  be  done  out  of,  or  contrary  to,  the 
 common  courfe  of  things  ?  Can  they  be  pofitive,  that 
 there  never  was,  or  will  be,  any  fcheme,  analogous  to 
 this,  contrived  for  any  other  order  of  beings  m  the  uni- 
 verfe ?  To  affirm  this,  would  be  about  as  judicious  as 
 the  opinion  of  the  vuigar,  that  thunder  is  an  immediate 
 expreffion  of  the  Divine  difpleai'ure,  and  that  comets 
 are  fent  on  purpofe  to  give  nc-tice  of  impending  judg- 
 ments* Whereas  a  little  knowledge  of  nature  Ihews, 
 that,  whatever  moral  inftrudions  thofe  pha^nomena  are 
 in  general  fitted  to  communicate  at  all  times  to  man- 
 kind, the  caufe  of  them  is  part  of  the  mere  conftitudon 
 of  nature.  And  who  can  fay,  that  fuperior  beings  may 
 not  have  fuch  extenfive  views  of  the  auguft  pian  of  the 
 Divine  government,  as  to  lee  the  whole  Icheme  of  Re- 
 vealed Religion  in  the  fame  light  ? 
 
 E  e  i  Nor 
 
/p#  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IT, 
 
 Nor  are  there  wanting  various  particulars,  in  the 
 Divine  government  of  the  moral  world,  analogous,  in 
 a  lower  fpherc,  to  the  grand  fcheme  of  revelation. 
 How  much  are  we  in  the  prefent  ftate  dependent  on 
 others  for  various  advantages  fpiritual  and  temporal  ? 
 What  gift  of  God  do  we  receive  without  the  interpofi- 
 tion  of  fome  agent  ?  How  are  parents,  teachers,  fpiritual 
 paftors,  and  guardian  angeis,  made  the  channels  of  the 
 Divine  goodnefs  to  us  ?  Is  there  not  in  this  fomething 
 fimiiar  to  our  receiving  the  ineftimable  advantages  of 
 the  perfect  knowledge  of  our  duty,  the  pardon  of  our 
 fins,  and  all  the  bleiTings  which  religion  beitows,  through 
 the  channel  of  a  Mediator  between  God  and  us  ?  Our 
 Saviour's  taking  upon  himfelf  certain  fufferings,  bj 
 which  we  are  to  gain  great  advantages,  is  by  no  means 
 foreign  to  the  common  courfe  of  the  world,  in  w^hich 
 "we  fee  very  great  hazards  run,  and  actual,  inconvenien- 
 eies  fuffered,  by  friends  and  relations  for  one  another. 
 He  and  his  apoflles  allow  of  this  analogy. 
 
 In  the  common  courfe  of  things,  thoughtlefsnefs  and 
 folly,  which  though  not  innocent,  are  yet  pitiable,  are 
 the  caufes  of  very  terrible  misfortunes ;  and  are  there- 
 fore in  many  cafes  provided  for  by  the  goodnefs  of  the 
 wife  Governor  of  the  world,  fo  that  they  do  not  always 
 prove  irretrievable.  A  thoughtlefs  perfon,  by  intem- 
 perance, runs  himfelf  into  a  quarrel,  in  which  he  is 
 ^vounded.  Without  help,  he  muft  perilh.  And  it  is 
 not  to  be  expecled,  that  he  fliould  be  miraculouily  re- 
 covered. Is  it  not  the  Divine  goodnefs,  which  has 
 furnifhed  the  materials  neceffary  for  his  cure,  made 
 provifion  in  the  formation  of  the  human  body  for  the 
 accidents  it  might  be  liable  to,  fo  that  every  hurt  fhould 
 not  prove  fatal  to  it ;  and  engaged  us  to  be  kind  and 
 helpful  to  one  another ;  fo  tha.t  we  fliould  be  furc  of 
 *:omfort  from  one  or  other  in  our  diftrefs  ?  In  the  fame 
 manner,  and  by  the  fame  goodnefs,  exerted  in  a  higher 
 degree,  revelation  teaches  us,  a  remedy  is  provided  for 
 the  recovery  to  the  Divine  mercy  (in  a  confiftency  with 
 the  wifdom  and  rectitude  of  his  moral  government)  of 
 a  fallen,  offending  order  of  beings.  In  the  cafe  of  the 
 unfortunate  perfon  here  exemplified,  his  being  convinced 
 
Revealed  Religion.)      HUMAN  NATURE.  ,    421 
 
 of  his  folly  ;  his  being  heartily  concerned  for  it ;  and 
 his  refolving  never  more  to  be  guilty  of  the  like,  is  not 
 iufficient  for  his  recovery ;  any  more  than  repentance 
 -and  reformation  alone  could  be  fuppofed  fufficient  to 
 put  offenders  on  a  footing  with  innocent  beings. 
 
 Natural  ends  are  produced  by  natural  means  ;  fo 
 are  moral.  Natural  means  are  many  of  them  flow,  and 
 feemingly  unpromifing.  if  experience  did  notlhew  their 
 fitnefs.  It  may  therefore  be  concluded,  and  hoped, 
 that  the  deiign  of  giving  a  revelation  to  mankind, 
 however  unpromifing  of  extenlive  fuccefs,  will  even- 
 tually^  and  upon  the  whole,  be  gained,  in  fuch  a  mea- 
 fure  as  it  may  not  be  wholly  defeated.  Natural  means 
 come  lliort,  in  fome  particular  initances,  of  their  direct 
 and  apparent  ends  ;  as  in  abortions  of  all  kinds  in  the 
 animal  and  vegetable  world.  In  the  fame  manner  it  is 
 to  be  feared,  that  all  the  moral  means  ufed  by  Divine 
 Goodnefs,  for  the  reformation  of  mankind,  and  revela- 
 tion among  the  reft,  will,  through  their  perverfenefs, 
 come  greatly  (hort  of  the  dired  end,  the  happinefs  of 
 the  fpecies  ;  though  it  fliall  not  be  in  the  power  of  all 
 created  beings  to  prevent  the  fecondary  and  more  indi- 
 red:  intention  of  the  Divine  moral  inflitutions. 
 
 Some  oppofers  of  revelation  have  run  themielves  into 
 a  great  many  difficulties,  by  forming  to  themffelves  a  fet 
 of  groundlefs  and  arbitrary  notions  of  what  a  revelation 
 from  God  ought  abfolutely  to  be,  v/hich  not  taking 
 place  according  to  their  theory,  they  have  concluded 
 againft  the  credibility  of  revelation  ;  than  which  no- 
 thing can  be  imagined  more  rafh  and  unreafonable,  to 
 fay  the  leaft.  They  have,  for  example,  laid  it  down 
 for  an  infallible  pofition,  that  a  truly  divine  revelation 
 muft  contain  all  poffible  kinds  and  degrees  of  know- 
 ledge. But  findmg  that  the  modern  aftronomy,  and 
 other  fciences,  have  no  place  in  Scripture,  or  that  the 
 expreffions  in  thofe  ancient  books  do  not  always  fuitthe 
 trttephilofophy,  they  conclude  that  Scripture  is  not  given 
 by  infpiration.  But  when  it  is  confidered,  that  the  de- 
 iign of  revelation  was  not  to  make  men  philofophcrs,  it 
 may  very  well  be  fuppofed,  that  the  fpirit  which  con- 
 duced it  did  not  fee  it  neceffary  to  infpire  the  facred 
 
 E  e  3      '  l^enmen 
 
422  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 penmen  with  any  knowledge  not  diredly  neceffary  for 
 improving  mens  hearts  and  Jives.  Finding  fome  incon- 
 iiderable  variations  in  the  hiftoricAl  accounts,  as  of  our 
 Saviour's  reiurreftion,  and  other  particulars,  they  con- 
 clude, that  the  narration  is  not  authentic  ;  for  that  in- 
 fpiration  mull  have  prevented  any  Inch  variation  in  the 
 accounis  of  the  different  writers.  But  it  is  to  be  re- 
 membered, that  the  meafure  of  infpiration  mufl  be  fup- 
 pofed  to  have  been  limited  ;  that  every  lingle  article 
 and  fyllable  was  not  neceffary  to  be  exprefsly  inf-jired  ; 
 that  where  the  human  faculties  of  rhe  writes  were  in 
 the  main  lufficient,  it  was  not  to  be  fuppofed  infpiration 
 fliOLild  interpofe  :  and  that  revelation  was  deligned  to 
 be  perfect  (as  all  things  with  which  we  have  to  do  at 
 pre'ent)  only  to  a  certain  degree. 
 
 The  want  of  univerfality  is  an  objection  of  the  fame. 
 kind.  But  if  the  coniideralion  of  the  true  religion's 
 not  being  communicated  alike  to  all  rnankind,  proves 
 any  thing  againft  it,  the  fame  objedion  lies  againit  rea- 
 ion.  For  it  is  given  to  men  in  fuch  different  meafures, 
 as  almoft  to  render  it  doubtful  whether  they  ought  not 
 to  be  pronounced  of  different  fpecies.  Nor  is  there  any 
 injuitice  in  the  different  diftribution  of  gifts  and  ad- 
 vantages ;  if  we  take  in  the  due  allowance  made  for 
 thofe  differences  in  the  final  judgment.  If  a  Hottentot 
 be  hereafter  judged  as  a  Hottentot,  he  ought  as  much  to 
 own  the  juitice  of  his  fentence,  as  a  Newton,  when 
 judged  as  a  philofopher. 
 
 Could  we  have  formed  any  jufl:  notion  what  the  mea- 
 fure of  human  reafon,  what  the  reach  of  human  laga- 
 city  out  to  have  been?  Wheiher  it  ought  to  ffiine  forth 
 in  its  greateft  brightnefs  at  fiift,  or  to  come  to  its  ma- 
 turity by  flow  degrees  ;  W'hether  it  ought  in  its  exer- 
 tion to  be  wholly  independent  on  the  body,  or  if  it 
 fliould  be  liable  to  be  difordered  with  the  diforder  of 
 the  corporeal  frame;  whether  it  ought  to  be  always 
 equal,  or  w^eak  in  youth  and  in  extreme  old  age.  Who 
 would  have  thought  the  feemingly  precarious  faculty 
 of  invention  a  proper  method  for  improving  arts  and 
 fciences!  Who  would  have  thought  that  writing  and 
 printing  could  ever  have  been  made  the  means  of  car- 
 rying 
 
Re^oealed  Rel'tgion. )        HUMAN  NATURE.  423 
 
 rying  human  knowledge  to  the  height  we  know  they 
 have  done  ?  If  we  find  that  Divine  Wifdom  can,  by 
 the  moft  unpromiiing  caiifes,  produce  the  greatell  ef- 
 fects, and  that  hardly  any  thing  is  CDnftituted  in  lucbr^ 
 a  manner  as  human  wildom  would  beforehand  have 
 judged  proper^  why  fliould  we  wonder  if  we  cannot  re- 
 concile the  fcherae  of  Divine  Revelation  to  our  arbi- 
 trary and  fantailical  views  ;  which,  for  any  thing  we 
 know,  may  be  immenfely  different  from  thoie  of  the 
 Author  of  revelation  ? 
 
 With  all  our  incapacity  of  judging  beforehand  what 
 revelation  ought  to  have  been,  it  does  not  follow,  that 
 we  may  not  be  fufficiently  qualified  to  judge  of  its  evi-? 
 dence  and  excellence  now  it  is  delivered.  And  that  is 
 enough  to  determine  us  to  what  is  right  and  fafe  for  u«, 
 }.  mean,  to  pay  it  all  due  regard.  For,  in  all  cafes,  it  is 
 our  wifdom  to  act  upon  the  bell  probability  we  can  obtain. 
 
 A  fupernatural  fcheme  contrived  by  Divine  Wifdom, 
 an  exprefs  revelation  from  God,  may  well  be  expected, 
 to  contain  difficulties  too  great  for  human  reafon  to  in- 
 velligate.  The  ordinary  economy  of  nature  and  provi- 
 dence, is  founded  in,  and  conducled  by  a  fagacity  too 
 deep  for  our  penetration,  much  more  the  extrcrdinary 
 jDarts,  if  fuch  there  are,  of  the  Divine  Government. 
 In  the  works  of  nature,  it  is  eafy  for  men  to  puzzle 
 themfelves  and  others  with  difficulties  unfurmountable, 
 as  well  as  to  find  objections  innumerable  ;  to  fay.  Why 
 was  fuch  a  creature  or  thing  made  fo  ?  Why  was 
 fuch  another  not  made  in  fuch  a  particular  manner  ? 
 The  ways  of  Providence  are  alfo  too  intricate  and  com- 
 plex for  our  ffiallow  underllandings  to  trr.ce  out.  The 
 wildom,  which  guides  the  moral,  as  well  as  that  which 
 framed  the  natural  fyftem,  is  Divine  ;  and  therefore  too 
 exquifite  for  our  grofs  apprehenfions.  Even  in  human 
 government,  it  is  not  to  be  expeded,  that  every  particu- 
 lar law  or  regulation  (hould  give  fatisfaction  to  every  fub- 
 jed,  or  fhould  be-  perfectly  feen  through  by  individuals 
 at  a  diftanee  from  the  feat  of  government :  Which  is 
 often  the  caufe,  efpecially  in  free  countries,  of  moll  un- 
 vealonable  and  ridiculous  complaints  againit  what  is 
 iiighly  wife  and  conducive  to  the  general  advantage. 
 
 E  e  4  But 
 
424  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 But  in  inquiring  into  nature,  providence,  and  revela- 
 tion, one  rule  will  effectually  lead  us  to  a  proper  deter- 
 mination, to  wit,  to  judge  by  what  we  know,  not  by 
 what  w^e  are  ignorant  of.  If  in  the  works  and  ways  of 
 God,  in  nature,  providence,  and  revelation,  where, 
 comprehended  by  us,  we  find  a  profufion  of  wil'dom 
 and  goodnefs  exhibited  in  the  moft  perfpicu'ius  and 
 ftriking  manner;  is  any  thing  more  reafonable  than  to 
 conclude,  that  if  we  favv  through  the  whole,  w^e  fhould 
 perceive  the  fame  propriety  in  thofe  parts  which  are  in- 
 tricate, as  vre  now  do  in  the  clearelt.  And  it  has  been 
 the  peculiar  fate  of  revelation,  much  more  than  either 
 of  the  other  two,  to  be  oppofed  on  account  of  fuch  dif- 
 ficulties in  it,  as  arife  from  our  weaknefs.  Efpeciiiily, 
 it  has  very  rarely  happened,  that  the  exiftence  of  God, 
 and  the  dodrine  of  his  being  the  Creator  of  the  world, 
 has  been  queilioned  merely  on  account  of  any  difficul- 
 ties in  tracing  out  the  wifdom  of  any  part  of  the  con- 
 ftitution  of  nature.  And  yet  it  would  be  as  rational  to 
 argue,  that  there  is  no  God,  becaufe  the  brutes  have  in 
 fome  inferior  refpedts  the  advantage  of  the  lord  of  this 
 lower  world,  as  to  queftion  the  truth  of  revealed  reli- 
 gion, after  examining  its  innumerable  evidences,  pre- 
 fumptive  and  politive,  merely  becaufe  we  may  think  it 
 ftrange,  that  the  Saviour  of  the  world  ftiould  die  the 
 death  of  a  criminal. 
 
 Here  it  is  proper  to  enter  an  exprefs  caveat  again  (I 
 whatever  may  pretend  to  the  facred  charader  of  a  point 
 of  faith  or  religion^  and  on  that  pretence  elude  or  baffle 
 reafon.  I  here  can  nothing  be  imagined  to  be  intended 
 for  the  ufe  and  improvement  of  reafonable  minds,  which 
 diredtly  and  explicitly  contradids  reafon.  If  reafon  and 
 revelation  be  both  the  gifts  of  God,  it  is  not  to  be  ex- 
 peded  that  they  fhould  oppofe  one  another  ;  but  that 
 they  fhould  tally,  as  both  coming  from  the  fame  wife 
 and  good  Author.  Whatever  therefore  is  an  exprefs 
 abfurdity,  or  contradidion,  we  may  be  well  allured  can 
 be  no  genuine  dodrine  of  revealed  religion,  but  a  blun- 
 dering invention  of  weak  or  defigning  men.  It  is  one 
 thing  for  a  point  of  revealed  religion  to  be,  as  to  its 
 ?nodus,  above  our  reach,  and  quite  another  matter,  for 
 
 a  dodrine 
 
lleviaUdRcUgwu)       HUMAN  NATURE.  425 
 
 a  doftrine  to  be  clearly  contradidory  to  human  under- 
 ftanding.  That  the  dired:  connection  in  the  nature  of 
 things  betwixt  the  death  of  Chrill:  and  the  falvation  of 
 mankind,  fliould  be  utterly  inexplicable  by  human  rea- 
 fon,  is  no  more  than  v/hat  might  have  been  expected, 
 and,  if  unqueftionably  a  doctrine  of  revealed  religion, 
 is  to  be  received  without  heliration  upon  the  credit  of 
 the  other  parts  w^hich  we  underltand  more  perfectly. 
 But,  that  on  a  prieft's  muttering  a  few  words  over  a 
 wafer,  it  fhould  immediately  become  a  whole  Chriit, 
 v/hile  at  the  fame  time  it  is  certain,  that  if  a  little  aile- 
 nic  had  been  put  into  the  compoiition  of  it,  it  would 
 have  effedually  poifoned  the  foundell  believer  ;  and 
 while  we  know  that  there  can  be  but  one  whole  Chrift, 
 though  the  Papifts  pretend  to  make  a  thouland  Chrilts 
 in  a  day;  this  is  not  to  be  confidered  as  a  difficult  or  my- 
 fterious  point,  but  as  a  clear  exprefs  contradidion  both 
 to  fenfe  and  reafon. 
 
 It  is  alfo  proper  here  to  mention,  that  whatever  doc- 
 trine of  religion  (fuppofing  it  to  be  really  genuine)  is 
 beyond  the  reach  of  human  underftanding,  cannot  be 
 imagined  neceffary  to  be  received,  any  fartker  than  un- 
 derftood.  For  belief  cannot  be  carried  the  Icaft  degree 
 beyond  conception.  And  it  is  to  be  remembered,  that 
 a  dodrine  may  be  contained  in  Scripture,  and  yet  not  a 
 neceffary  point  of  faith.  For  example:  It  is  faid  in 
 Scripture,  that  the  angels  delire  to  look  into  the  fcheme 
 of  the  redemption  of  mankind.  But  nobody  has  ever 
 thought  of  making  an  article  of  faith  necefiary  to  fal- 
 vation, That  we  are  to  believe,  that  the  angels  are  in- 
 terefted  in  the  fcheme  of  our  redemption.  Unlefs 
 Scripture  itfelf  exprefsly  declares  a  doctrine  neceflary 
 to  be  received,  we  cannot,  without  ralbnefs,  pretend  to 
 pronounce  it  abfolutely  neceffary  to  be  believed  in  any 
 precife  or  determinate  fenfe  whatever. 
 
 It  has  been  objected  againft  the  fcheme  of  revelation 
 ■which  is  received  among  us.  That  great  part  of  the 
 precepts  contained  in  it  are  fuch  as  appear  at  firft  view 
 agreeable  to  found  reafon ;  whereas  it  might  have  been 
 expeded  (fay  thofe  objectors,  or  rather  cavillers)  that 
 every  article  in  it  (hould  be  quite  new  and  unheard  ot, 
 '-  At 
 
426  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV; 
 
 At  the  fame  time  the  fame  gentlemen  think  proper  like- 
 wife  to  object,  That  many  of  the  Sciipture-expreffions 
 are  very  different  from  thofe  ufed  by  other  ancient  au- 
 thors. So  that  it  is,  it  feems,  an  objection  againft  Scrip- 
 ture, That  it  is  what  it  might  have  been  expected  to 
 be ;  and  that  it  is  not  what  it  might  have  been  expeded 
 to  be. 
 
 To  the  former  of  thefe  cavils  it  may  be  briefly  an- 
 fwercd,  That  the  general  agreement  between  reafon  and 
 revelation,  fhews  both  to  be  of  Divine  original  ;  while 
 revelation's  being  an  improvement  and  addition  to  rea- 
 fon *,  fhews  its  ufefulnefs  and  expediency.  The  latter 
 difficulty  will  vanifh  on  confidering  that  many  of  the 
 Scripture  expreflions  are  vilibiy  accommodated  to  hu- 
 man apprehenfion,  while  others  on  the  fame  fubjects  are 
 laifed  to  a  fubiimity  fuitable  to  the  nature  of  the  thing  ; 
 by  which  means  the  narrowed  mind  receives  an  infor- 
 mation fuitable  to  its  reach,  while  the  moft  elevated 
 conception  is  enlarged  by  views  of  the  nobleft  and  moft 
 fublime  nature.  Thus,  to  mention  only  one  inftance  at 
 prefent,  the  meanefl  reader  of  Scripture,  i§  ftruck  with 
 fear  of  One,  whofe  eye  is  quick  and  piercing,  to  fearcl; 
 the  hearts,  and  try  the  reins  of  the  children  of  men, 
 and  u'hofe  hand  is  powerful,  and  his  out-ftretched  arni 
 mighty,  to  feize  and  punifli  offenders.  At  the  fame  timg; 
 the  profound  philofopher  is  in  the  fame  writings  inform- 
 ed, that  God  is  a  fpirit  filling  heaven  and  earth,  and  not 
 contained  within  the  limits  of  the  heaven  of  heavens,  but 
 inhabiting  immenlity  and  eternity,  in  whom  all  live  and 
 move,  and  have  their  being  ;  necelTarily  inyifible,  and 
 altogether  unlike  to  any  of  his  creatures  ;  having  iieithec 
 eyes,  nor  hands,  nor  paffions  like  thofe  of  men  ;  but 
 whofe  ways  are  infinitely  above  our  ways,  and  his 
 thoughts  above  our  thoughts.  Thus  the  Scripture  lan- 
 guage IS  fuch,  as  that  of  a  revelation  intended  for  the 
 improvement  of  men  of  all  different  degrees  of  capacity, 
 ought  to  be.  It  is,  in  fhort,  fit  for  the  ufe  of  a  whole 
 fpecies. 
 
 That  the  Old  Teflament  particularly,  which  is  the 
 only  book  extant  in  that  language,  fliould  be  fo  well 
 preferved  and  underflood  as  it  is,  folong  after  the  He^^ 
 
 brew 
 
 5  gee  page  41  7, 
 
Revealed  Rel'igwu)         HUMAN  NATURE.  427 
 
 hrew  has  ceafed  to  be  a  living  language :  that  we  fhould 
 at  this  time  be  able  to  make  out  a  regular  biftory,  and 
 a  fet  of  con{illent  thoughts  and  views,  from  writings  of 
 fuch  antiquity,  is  much  more  to  be  wondered,  than  that 
 there  fliould  be  found  in  them  difhcuhies,  feeming  con- 
 tradictions, and  thoughts  or  expreflions  different  from 
 thofe  found  in  productions  of  a  later  date.  But  above 
 all  things,  that  the  thoughts  and  exprefficns  in  Scrip- 
 ture fhould  lo  far  exceed  in  fublimity  ail  other  com- 
 pofitions,  feems  unaccountable  upon  every  other  fclieme, 
 but  their  being  of  Divine  original.  Of  the  truth  of  this 
 ailertion,  let  the  following  inltance,  among  innumerable 
 others  ferve  as  a  proof. 
 
 The  lofti-ft  paflage,  in  the  mofl  fublime  of  all  humaa 
 produdions,  is  the  beginning  of  the  eighth  book  of  Ho- 
 mer's  Iliad.  There  the  greateit  of  all  human  imagina- 
 tions labours  to  defcribe,  not  a  hero,  but  a  god  ;  not  an 
 inferior,  but  the  Supreme  God  ;  nor  to  flievv'  his  fupe- 
 tiority  to  mortals,  but  to  the  heavenly  powers ;  and  noc 
 to  one,  but  to  them  all  united.  The  following  is  a  ver- 
 bal tranflation  of  it. 
 
 "  The  I'affron-coloured  morning  was  fpread  over  the 
 *•'  whole  earth  ;  and  'Jupiter,  rejoicing  in  his  thunder, 
 *'  held  an  affembly  of  the  gods  upon  the  higheft  top  of 
 **  the  many-headed  Olympus.  He  himfelf  made  a  fpeech 
 "  to  them,  and  all  the  gods  together  liitened. 
 
 "  Hear  me,  all  ye  gods,  and  all  ye  goddelTes,  that  I 
 *^  may  fay  what  my  foul  in  my  breaft  commands.  Let 
 *'  not  therefore  any  female  deity,  or  any  male,  endea- 
 *'  vour  to  break  through  my  word  ;  but  all  confent  to- 
 "  gether,  that  I  may  moft  quickly  perform  thefe  worfe- 
 "  Whomfoever,  therefore,  of  the  gods  I  (hall  under- 
 "  ftand  to  have  gone  by  himfelf,  and  of  his  own  accord, 
 *'  to  give  affiftance  either  to  the  Trojans  or  the  Greeks, 
 *'  he  lb  all  return  to  Olympus  fliamefully  wounded;  oi: 
 f*  I  will  throw  him,  feized  by  me,  into  dark  hell,  very 
 "  far  off,  where  the  moft  deep  abyfs  is  under  the  earth ; 
 "  where  there  are  iron  gates,  and  a  brazen  threfhold, 
 "  as  far  within  hell,  as  heaven  is  diftant  from  the  earth. 
 "  He  will  then  know,   by  ho\v  much  I  am  the  moll 
 
 '<  powerful  of  all  the  gods. 
 
 "\  "But 
 
438  THE  DIGNilTY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 *'  But  come,  try,  O  ye  gods,  that  ye  may  all  fee. 
 "  Hang  down  the  golden  chain  from  heaven,  hang 
 **  upon  it  all  ye  gods,  and  all  ye  goddeffes;  but  ye  fhall 
 *'  not  be  able  to  draw  from  heaven  to  the  ground  Ju~ 
 ^^  piter  the  great  counfellor,  though  ye  flrive  ever  fo 
 **  much.  But  when  1  afterwards  fhall  be  willing  to 
 **  draw,  I  fhall  lift  both  the  earth  itfelf,  and  the  fea  it- 
 *'  felf.  Then  I  fliail  bind  the  chain  round  the  top  of 
 **  Olympus,  and  they  fliall  all  hang  aloft.  For  fo  much 
 *'  am  I  above  gods  and  above  men." 
 
 With  this  molt  mafterly  palTage  of  the  greateft  mailer 
 of  the  fublime,  of  all  antiquity,  the  v/riter,  who  proba- 
 bly had  the  greateft  natural  and  acquired  advantages  of 
 any  mortal  for  perfecling  a  genius ;  let  the  following 
 verbal  tranflation  of  a  pafTage  from  writings  penned  by 
 one  brought  up  a  fhepherd,  and  in  a  country  where 
 learning  was  not  thought  of,  be  compared;  that  the 
 difference  may  appear.  In  this  comparifon,  1  know  of 
 no  unfair  advantage  given  the  infpired  writer.  For 
 both  fragments  are  literally  tranllated  ;  and,  if  the 
 critics  are  right,  the  Hebrew  original  is  verfe^  as  well 
 as  the  Greek, 
 
 **  O  Lord,  my  God,  thou  art  very  great  I  Thou  art 
 *'  clothed  with  honour  and  majefty  1  'Who  covereft  thy- 
 '*  felf  with  light,  as  with  a  garment :  who  ftretcheft  out 
 **  the  heavens  like  a  canopy.  Who  layeth  the  beams 
 •'  of  his  chambers  in  the  waters:  who  maketh  the  clouds 
 **  his  chariot :  who  walketh  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind. 
 "  Who  maketh  his  angels  fpirits ;  his  minifters  a  flame 
 "  of  lire.  Who  laid  the  foundation  of  the  earth,  that  it 
 *'  fhould  not  be  moved  for  ever.  Thou  coveredft  it 
 *'  with  the  deep,  as  with  a  garment :  the  waters  ftood 
 "  above  the  mountains.  At  thy  rebuke  they  fled ;  at 
 "  the  voice  of  thy  thunder  they  hailed  away.  They 
 **  go  up  by  the  mountains ;  they  go  down  by  the  vallies 
 **  unto  the  place  thou  haft  founded  for  them.  Thou 
 "  hafl  fet  a  bound,  that  they  may  not  pafs  over ;  that 
 "  they  turn  not  again  to  cover  the  earth. 
 
 "  O  Lord,  how  manifold  are  thy  works  I  In  wifdom 
 *'  haft  thou  made  them  all.  The  earth  is  full  of  thy 
 "  riches.     So  is  the  great  and  wide  fea,  wherein  arc 
 
 *'  creatureso 
 
Revealed  Religion.)   HUMAN  NATURE'  429 
 
 "  creatures  innumerable,  both  rmall  and  great.  There 
 "  go  the  {hips.  There  is  that  leviathan,  which  thou 
 "  haft  made  to  play  therein.  Thefe  all  wait  upon  theC;, 
 "  that  thou  mayft  give  them  their  food  in  due  feafon. 
 "  That  thou  giveft  them  they  gather.  Thou  openeft. 
 "  thy  hand  :  they  are  filled  with  good.  Thou  hidft  thy 
 "-  face :  they  are  troubled.  They  die,  and  return  to 
 *'  their  duft.  Thou  fendeft  forth  thy  fpirit :  they  are 
 "  created ;  and  thou  reneweft  the  face  of  the  earth. 
 **  The  glory  of  the  Lord  fhall  endure  for  ever.  The 
 "  Lord  Ihall  rejoice  in  his  works.  He  looketh  an  the 
 "  earth,  and  it  trembleth.  He  toucheth  the  hills  •,  and 
 *'  they  fmoke.  I  will  ling  unto  the  Lord  as  long  as  I 
 **  live,  I  will  ling  praife  unto  my  God,,  while  1  have 
 "  my  being." 
 
 I  appeal  to  every  reader,  whether  the  former  of  thefe 
 two  fragments  is  not,  when  compared  with  the  latter,  a 
 fchool- boy's  theme,  a  capucinade,  or  a  Grubftreet  ballad, 
 rather  than  a  produdion  fit  to  be  named  with  any  part 
 of  the  infpired  writings.  Nor  is  it  only  in  one  inftance, 
 that  the  fuperiority  of  the  Scripture  ftyie  to  all  human 
 compofitions  appears.  But  taking  the  whole  body  of 
 facred  poefy,  and  the  whole  of  profane,  and  confidering 
 the  characier  of  the  Jehovah  of  the  former,  and  the 
 Jupiter  of  the  latter,  every  one  muft  fee  the  difference 
 to  be  out  of  all  reach  of  comparifon.  And,  what  is 
 wonderfully  remarkable,  Scripture  poefy,  though  penned 
 by  a  number  of  different  hands,  as  Mofes,  David,  Ifaiah, 
 Jeremiah,  and  the  reft,  in  very  diftant  ages,  gives  a  dii-. 
 tincl  and  uniform  idea  of  the  Supreme  Being,  no  where 
 deviating  into  any  thing  mean,  or  unworthy  of  him ; 
 and  ftill,  even  where  he  is  fpoke  of  in  a  manner  fuited 
 to  the  general  appreheniion  of  mankind,  his  dignity  and 
 majefty  duly  kept  up.  Whereas,  there  is  not  one  of  the 
 ancient  Heatken  poets,  w^ho  gives  a  confiftent  idea  of 
 the  Supreme  God,  or  keeps  up  his  charadler  throughout. 
 Homer,  in  the  fame  poem,  defcribes  his  Jupiter  with  a 
 great  deal  of  majefty,  and  in  another  reprefents  him  as 
 deceived  by  his  M'ife  Juno,  and  overcome  with  lull 
 and  fleep,  while  the  inferior  deities  are  playing  what 
 tricks  they  pleale  contrary,  to  his  intention.     In  (hort, 
 
 the 
 
45«»  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Boi)k  IV. 
 
 the  Supreme  God  is  by  Homer  defcribed  as  a  bully  ; 
 by  Vir^il^  as  a  tyrant ;  by  Ovid,  as  a  bcaftly  voluptuary  ; 
 and  by  Lucretius^  as  a  lazy  drone.  So  that,  if  the  ca- 
 vils of  the  oppofers  of  Revelation,  with  refpedl  to  the 
 ftyle  of  Scripture,  were  of  fo  much  more  confequence 
 than  they  are  ;  it  would  ftill  be  the  eafielt,  and  indeed 
 ihe  only  rational  way  of  accounting  for  the  amazing 
 fuperiority  of  thofe  writings  to  the  greateft  human  pro- 
 duction?, in  fpite  of  the  difadvantages,  of  want  of  learn- 
 ing, and  the  like,  which  the  facred  penmen  laboured 
 under ;  to  afcribe  the  fentiments  in  them  to  Divine  In- 
 fpiration. 
 
 Other  objections,  as,  that  the  genuinenefs  of  fome  of 
 the  books  of  the  Bible  has  been  difputed  ;  thofe  of  vari- 
 ous readings  ;  of  feeming  contradidions  ;  of  doubtful 
 interpretations  ;  of  obfcurity  in  the  Scripture  Chrono- 
 logy, and  the  like  ;  all  thefe  difficulties  are  fufficiently 
 cleared  up  by  the  learned  apologifts  for  Revealed  Reli- 
 gion. Nor  does  it  fuit  the  purpofe  of  this  work  to  ob- 
 viate all  objections.  Nor  is  it  indeed  neceffary  for  the 
 candid  inquirer  into  the  truth  of  Divine  Revelation,  to 
 attend  to  the  various  difficulties  ftarted  by  laborious  ca- 
 villers. It  is  of  very  fmall  confequence,  what  circum- 
 llantial  difficulties  may  be  raifed  about  a  Icheme,  whofe 
 grand  lines  and  principal  figures  fhew  its  Author  to  be 
 Divine  ;  as  will,  it  is  prefumed,  appear  to  every  ingenu- 
 ous mind,  on  a  careful  perufal  of  the  follovv'ing  general 
 view  of  the  whole  body  of  Revelation.  Some  other  ob- 
 iedions  are  occalionally  obviated  in  other  parts  of  this 
 fourth  Book  ;  and  for  a  full  view  of  the  controverfy  be- 
 tween the  oppofers  and  defenders  of  Revealed  Religion,, 
 the  reader  may  conlult  the  authors  on  that  fubjed:,  re- 
 commended page  194.  In  whofe  writings  he  will  find 
 full  anfwers  to  the  moft  trivial  objedlions  ;  and  will  ob- 
 ferve,  that  the  cavils  ftarted  from  time  to  time,  by  the 
 Deiftical  writers,  have  all  been  fully  confidered,  and 
 completely  anfwered  over  and  over ;  fo  that  nothing 
 new  has  been,  for  many  years  paft,  or  is  likely  ever  to 
 be,  advanced  on  the  fubjedt. 
 
 SECT. 
 
RewaMRel'tglon.)    HUMAN  NATURE,  H^i 
 
 S  E  C  T.     II. 
 
 A  compendious  View  of  the  Scheme  of  Divine  Revelation. 
 
 HOLY  Scripture  comprehends  (though  penned  by  a 
 number  of  different  authors,  who  lived  in  ages  very 
 diftant  from  one  another)  a  confident  and  uniform  fcheme 
 of  all  things  that  are  neceffary  to  be  known  and  attended 
 to  by  mankind.  Nor  is  there  any  original  writing  be- 
 lides,  that  does  this.  It  prefents  us  with  a  view  of  this 
 world  before  its  change  from  a  chaos  into  an  habitable 
 ftate.  It  gives  us  a  rational  account  of  the  procedure  of 
 the  Almighty  Author  in  forming  and  reducing  it  into  a 
 condition  fit  for  being  the  feat  of  living  inhabitants,  and 
 a  theatre  for  ad:ion.  It  gives  an  account  of  the  origin- 
 ation of  mankind  ;  reprefenting  the  firft  of  the  fpecies 
 as  brought  into  being  on  purpofe  for  difcipline  and  obe- 
 dience. It  gives  a  general  account  of  the  various  dif- 
 penfations  and  tranfadions  of  God  with  regard  to  the 
 rational  inhabitants  of  this  world  ;  keeping  in  view 
 throughout,  and  no  where  lofing  fight  of,  the  great  and 
 important  end  of  their  creation,  the  training  them  up  to 
 goodneis  and  virtue,  in  order  to  happinefs.  Every  where 
 inculcating  that  one  grand  leffon,  which  if  mankind 
 could  but  be  brought  to  learn,  it  were  no  great  matter 
 what  they  were  ignorant  of,  and  without  which  all 
 other  knowledge  is  of  no  real  value  ;  to  wit.  That  obe- 
 dience to  the  Supreme  Governor  of  the  Univerfe  is  the 
 certain,  and  the  only  means  of  happinefs ;  and  that  vice 
 and  irregularity  are  both  naturally  and  judicially  the 
 caufes  of  mifery  and  deilrudion.  It  fhews  innumerable 
 inftances  of  the  Divine  difpleafure  againft  wickedneis ; 
 and  in  order  to  give  a  full  difplay  of  the  fatal  confe- 
 quences  of  vice,  it  gives  fome  account,  either  hiftorically 
 or  prophetically,  of  the  general  ilate  of  this  world  in  its 
 various  periods  from  the  time  of  its  being  made  habitable 
 from  a  chaos,  to  its  redudlion  again  to  a  chaos  by  fire, 
 at  the  confummation  of  all  things.  Comprehending 
 mod  of  the  great  events  which  have  happened,  or  are 
 yet  to  happen,  to  moil  of  the  great  empires  and  king- 
 doms, and  exhibiting  in  brief,  moft  of  what  is  to  pafs  on 
 
 the 
 
■^  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  l\K 
 
 the  theatre  of  the  world.  Setting  forth  to  the  view  of 
 mankind,  for  their  inftrudion,  a  variety  of  examples  of 
 real  charade- rs  the  moil  remarkable  for  virtue,  or  wick- 
 cdnefs,  with  moft  fignal  and  ftriking  inftances  of  the 
 Divine  approbation  of,  or  difpleafure  againft  them. 
 
 It  is  only  in  Scripture,  that  a  rational  account  of  this 
 world  is  given.  For  in  Scripture  it  is  reprefented  as 
 God's  v/orld.  The  inhabitants  of  it  are  every  where 
 fpoken  of,  as  no  other  way  of  confequence^  than  in  the 
 view  of  their  being  his  creatures,  formed  for  Reli- 
 gion, and  an  immortal  ftate  of  happinefs  after  this  life, 
 and  at  prefent  under  the  laws  and  rules  of  difcipline,  to 
 train  them  up  for  the  great  end  of  their  being.  Even 
 in  the  mere  hiftorical  parts,  there  is  always  an  eye  to 
 the  true  ftate  of  things.  Inftead  of  informing  us,  that 
 one  prince  conquered  another,  the  Scripture  account  is, 
 that  it  pleafed  God  to  deliver  the  one  into  the  hand  of 
 the  other.  Inftead  of  afcribing  the  revolutions  of  king- 
 doms and  empires  to  the  counfels  of  the  wife,  or  the 
 valour  of  the  mighty,  the  Scripture  account  of  them  is, 
 that  they  were  the  eftcd:  of  the  Divine  Difpofal,  brought 
 about  by  Him,  "  in  whofe  hand  are  the  hearts  of  kings, 
 "  who  turns  them  which  way  he  pleafes ;  and  who  puts 
 "  one  down,  and  fets  another  up;  who  does  in  the  ar- 
 **  mies  of  heaven,  and  among  the  inhabitants  of  the 
 **  earth,  whatever  feems  good  to  Him,  and  whofe  hand 
 ^*  none  can  ftay,  or  fay, — What  doft  thou  ?"  The  view 
 given  in  Scripture  of  our  world,  and  its  inhabitants,  and 
 their  affairs,  is  that  which  muft  appear  to  an  eye  obferv- 
 ing  from  above,  not  from  the  earth.  For  Scripture  alone 
 gives  an  account  of  the  original  caufes  of  things,  the 
 true  fprings  of  events,  and  declares  the  end  from  the 
 beginning ;  which  fliews  it  to  be  given  by  one  who  faw 
 through  all  futurity,  and  by  the  fame,  who  has  been 
 from  the  beginning  at  the  head  of  the  affairs  of  the 
 world,  who  governs  the  world,  and  therefore  knew  how 
 to  give  an  account  (fo  far  as  to  his  wifdom  feemed  fit 
 to  difcover)  of  the  whole  current  and  courfe  of  events 
 from  the  creation  to  the  confummation. 
 
 We  have  no  where,  but  in  Scripture,  a  difplay  of  the 
 
 wonders  of  Divine  Mercy  for  a  fallen  guilty  race  of  be- 
 
 2  ings. 
 
P^eveakd Religion. )     HUMAN   NATURE.  -^35 
 
 ings.  We  have  no  rational  account  any  where  elfe  of 
 a  method  for  relloring  a  world  ruined  by  vice.  \vi 
 Scripture  we  have  this  great  de/ideratwn :  Holy  Scrip- 
 ture fhines  forth  confpicuous  by  its  own  native  heavenly 
 fpendoar;  Enlightening  the  darknefs,  and  clearing  the 
 doubts,  which,  from  the  beginning  of  the  world,  hung 
 upon  the  minds  of  the  wifett  and  bed  of  men,  with  re- 
 fpecft:  to  the  important  points,  of  the  mod  acceptable 
 manner  of  worfhipping  God;  of  the  poilibility  of  gain- 
 ing the  Divine  Favour  and  the  pardon  of  fin  ;  of  a  fu- 
 ture date  of  retribution  ;  and  of  the  proper  immortality, 
 or  perpetual  exidcnce  of  the  foul :  Giving  more  clear, 
 rational  ani  fublime  notions  of  God  ;  teaching  a  more 
 perfcd:  method  of  worlhipping  and  ferving  Him  ;  and 
 prefcribing  to  mankind  a  didinct  and  explicit  rule  of 
 life,  guarded  with  the  mod  awful  ianclions,  and  attended 
 with  the  mod  unquedionable  evidence?,  internal  and 
 external,  of  Divine  Authority.  Bringing  to  light  vari- 
 ous important  and  intereding  truths,  which  no  human 
 fagucity  could  have  found  out  ;  and  eitablidiing  and 
 confirming  others,  which,  thoilgh  pretended  to  have  been 
 difcoverable  by  reafon,  yet  greatly  needed  fuperior  con- 
 firmation. Not  only  enlightening  thofe  countries,  ori 
 which  its  direct  beams  have  dione  with  their  full  fplen- 
 dour;  but  breaking  through  the  clouds  of  heathenifm,  and 
 fuperdition,  darting  fome  of  its  Divine  rays  to  the  mod 
 didant  parts  of  the  world,  and  affording  a  glimmering 
 light  to  the  mod  barbarous  nations,  without  which  they 
 had  been  buried  in  total  darknefs  and  ignorance  as  to 
 moral  and  religious  knowledge.  Drawing  ahde  the  veil 
 of  time,  and  opening  a  profped  into  eternity,  and  the 
 v.'orld  of  fpirits.  Exhibiting  a  fcheme  of  things  incom- 
 parably more  fublime  than  is  any  were  elfe  to  be  found  5  ■ 
 in  which  various  orders  of  being,  angelsj  archangels, 
 thrones,  dominions,  principalities,  and  powers,  rife  in 
 their  feverai  degrees,  and  tower  above  another  toward  the 
 perfection  of  the  Divine  Nature;  in  comparifon  of  which, 
 however,  they  are  all  as  nothing.  Holy  Scripture,  in  a 
 word,  takes  in  vvhatever  of  great,  or  good,  can  be  con- 
 ceived by  a  rational  mind  in  the  prefent  llate  ;  what- 
 ever can  be  cf  ufs  for  r.iiling,  refining,  and  fpiritualiling 
 
 F  f  human 
 
4-3H  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV'. 
 
 human  natiire  ;  for  making  this  world  a  paradife,  and 
 iirankind  angels  ;  for  qualifying  them  for  that  eternal 
 blifs  and  glory,  which  was  the  end  of  their  being.  And 
 it  is  highly  probable,  that  while  the  world  Hands, learned 
 and  inquificive  men  will  be  from  time  to  time  difcovering 
 new  wonde^sof  Divine  Wifdom  in  that  inexhaullibletrea- 
 I'urc.  The  eontinual  improvement  of  knowledge  of  all 
 kinds, and  the fsTther  and  farther  complctionof  prophecy, 
 •give  reafon  to  expect  this.  They,  who  know  vdiat  amaz- 
 ing lights  have  been'  ftrnck  out  by  Mede,  Locke^  and  a  few 
 others  who  have  purfued  their  plan,  will  readily  agree, 
 that,  as  a  century  or  two  pail  have  fhewn  us  the  Bible 
 in  a  light,  in  which  it  was  probably  never  feen  before, 
 fmce  the  apoftolic  age  ;  fo  a  century  or  two  to  come 
 may  (if  mankind  do  not  give  over  the  ftudy  of  Scrip- 
 ture") exhibit  it  in  a  light  at  prefent  inconceivable. 
 
 That  it  may  in  a  fatisfaclory  manner  appear,  how 
 important  the  iiibjccls,  how  wide  the  extent,  and  how 
 noble  the  difcoTeries  of  Scripture  are ;  it  may  be  pro- 
 per to  trace  the  outlines  of  the  vaft  and  various  profped 
 It  exhibits,  I  mean,  to  range  in  order  the  principal  fub- 
 ieds  of  Revelation,  as  they  lie  in  the  holy  books.  This 
 I  will  endeavour  to  draw  out  of  the  Bible  itfclf,  in  fuch 
 u  manner  as  one  wholly  a  uranger  to  our  fyllems  and 
 controvcrfies.  and  v»'lio  had  iludied  Scripture  only,  might 
 be  fuppofed  to  do  it. 
 
 Holy  Scripture  begins  with  informing  us,  that  God 
 v/at'.  the  Author  and  Creator, of  the  Univerfe  ;  which 
 truth  is  alfo  coniiuent  with  human  reafon  ;  and  the  di- 
 re6t  confequence  to  be  drawn  from  it  is.  That  all  crea- 
 tures and  tilings  are  his,  and  that  all  thinking  beings 
 ought  to  dedicate  themfelves  to  his  fervice,  to  whom 
 thev  owe  their  cxiilicnce,  and  whatever  they  have,  or 
 hope  for.  x\s  the  Almighty  Creator  is  a  pure  Ipirit, 
 wholly  feparate  from  matter,  or  corporeal  organs  of  any 
 kind,  it  is  evident,  that  what  he  produces,  he  does  by 
 an  immediate  acl  of  volition.  His  power  reaching  to 
 the  performance  of  all  poRVble  things,  nothing  can  re- 
 fill his  will.  -  So  that  his  willing,  or  defiring  a  thing  to 
 be,  is  producing  it.  His  faying,  or  thinkings  Let  there 
 he  U^hty  lb  creating  light. 
 
 Scripture 
 
-PxnsealcdReUghn.)     HUMAN  NATURE.  43?; 
 
 Scripture  informs  us,  that  the  hu[nan  fpecies  begun  in 
 two  perfons,  one  of  each  fex,  created  by  God,  and  by 
 himfelf  put  diredly  in  the  mature  fhate  of  life  ;  whereas 
 all  the  particulars  of  the  fpecies,  who  have  been  iince 
 produced,  have  been  created  indeed  by  God,  but  intro- 
 duced into  human  life  by  the  inftrumentality  of  parents. 
 We  learn  from  Scripture,  that  the  firft  of  our  fpecies 
 were  brought  into  being,  not  only  in  a  fiate  of  innocence, 
 or  capacity  for  virtue,  but  iikewife  naruraily  imuiortal, 
 being  blelt  with  conttitutions  fo  formed,  that  they  would 
 of  themfelves  have  continued  uninjured  by  time,  till  it 
 lliould  have  been  thought  proper  to  remove  the  fpecies 
 to  a  new  and  more  fpiritual  ilate. 
 
 The  appointment  of  one  day  in  feven,  as  a  da^^  of  reft  ; 
 the  fanctifying  a  feventli  part  of  our  time  to  religious 
 purpofes,  was  an  ordinance  worthy  of  God  ;  and  the 
 account  we  have  in  Scripture  of  its  having  been  ap- 
 pointed lb  early,  by  Divine  Authority,  and  as  a  law  lor 
 the  whole  world,  explains  how  we  come  to  find  the  ob- 
 fervance  of  a  feventh  day  as  facred,  by  univerfal  cuilom, 
 mentioned  in  fuch  ancient  writers  as  Horner^  Hejiod, 
 and  Callimacbus,  Nor  can  any  appointment  be  imagined 
 more  fit  for  keeping  up  an  appearance  of  religion  among 
 mankind,  than  this.  Stated  folemnities,  returning  pe- 
 riodically, have,  by  the  vvifdom  of  all,  lawgivers,  been 
 thought  tlie  beft  expedients  for  keeping  up  the  lafting 
 remembrance  of  remarkable  events.  And  it  is  evident, 
 that  no  event  better  deferved  to  be  kept  in  remembrance 
 than  that  of  the  completing  of  the  work  of  creation  ; 
 till  fuch  time  as  the  work  of  redemption,  the  fecond 
 and  bed  creation  of  man.  was  completed  in  the  reiurrec- 
 tion  of  the  Saviour  of  the  World,  Upon  which  the  firll 
 Chriilians  fanctified  the  firft  day  of  the  week,  and,  ac- 
 cordmg  to  the  beft  authority  now  to  be  had,  the  feventh 
 Iikewife  ;  though  neither  with  the  ftriclnefs  required  by 
 the  Mofaic  Conftitution  ;  but  with  that  decent  liberty, 
 with  which  Chrillianity  makes  its  votaries  free.. 
 
 The  defign  of  creating  the  human  fpecies,  was  to  put 
 them  in  the  way  toward  fuch  a  happinefs  as  fnould  be 
 fit  and  fuitable  to  the  nature  of  free  moral  agents.  This 
 rendered  it  neceifary  to   place  them   in  a   Itate  of  dif- 
 
 F  f  2  cipline^ 
 
430  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 cipline  ;  the  only  poffible  method  for  learning  virtue; 
 and  we  accordingly  find  a  leflrio  of  obedience*  pre- 
 fcribed  them  immediately  on  their  coming  into  ex- 
 iftence.  A  law,  to  all  appearance,  very  eafy  to  keep. 
 Only  to  abflain  wholly  fi'oni  one  particular  indulgence, 
 being  at  liberty,  wif.hm  the  bounds  of  moderation,  with 
 refped  to  others.  In  the  ftate  of  things  at  that  time,  it 
 would  not  have  been  eafy  to  prefcribe  a  particular  trial, 
 which  fhould  not  turn  upon  the  government  of  paffion 
 or  appetite..  Being  the  only  two  on  the  face  of  the 
 earth,  they  could  not  be  guilty  of  a  breach  of  duty  to 
 fellow-creatures.  And  with  the  frequent  intercourfe, 
 Scripture  gives  us  reafon  to  think,  they  had  with  an- 
 gels, and  celeflial  beings,  they  could  hardly  bring  theai- 
 felves  to  any  pofitive  violation  of  their  duty  to  God  ; 
 and  were  under  no  temptation  to  negledlit.  1  hat  they 
 Ihould  fall  into  this  fatal  tranrgrellion  of  the  firft  law 
 given  for  trial  of  their  obedience,  was  to  be  expected 
 ftom  beings  newly  created,  and  wholly  unexperienced 
 and  unprincipled.  Thus  we  fee,  that  young  children 
 Have  no  fixed  principles  fufiicient  to  prevent  their  yield- 
 ing to  temptation  :  for  virtue  is  an  attachment  to  recti- 
 tude, and' abhorrence  of  all  moral  evil,  arifing  from  rea- 
 fon, experience,  and  habit.  But  though  this,  and  other 
 deviations  fi'om  obedience,  were  to  be  expelled  from 
 the  firll  of  mankind,  it  does  not  follow,  that  fuch  devi- 
 ations were  wholly  innocent.  Pitiable  undoubtedly 
 their  cafe  was,  and  the  rather,  in  that  they  were  mifled 
 by  temptation  from  a  wicked  being  more  experienced 
 than  themfelves.  Accordingly  their  cafe,  and  that  of 
 the  reft  of  the  fpecies,  has  found  fuch  pity,  and  fuch  in- 
 terpofitiohs  have  been  made  in  their  favour,  as  w^e  have 
 reafon,  from  Scripture,  to  fuppofe  other  offending  orders 
 of  beings,  particularly  the  fallen  angels,  have  not  been 
 favoured  with.  For  it  is  exprefsly  faid,  that  nothing  equi- 
 valent to  the  Chriilian  Scheme  of  Refloration  and  Sal- 
 vation has  been  planned  out  in  favour  of  them  ;  but  that 
 they  are  left  to  the  confequences  of  their  difobedience. 
 
 The 
 
 *  This  point  is  net  here  ilated  aS  the  author  now  thinks  it  ought.     Sec 
 tlis  Note  page  252. 
 
Revealed  Religion. )         HUMAN  NATURE.  457 
 
 The  natural  tendency  of  the  leaft  deviaiion  from 
 moral  reditude  is  fo  dreadfully  and  extenfively  fatal,  as 
 to  render  it  highly  neceflary  that  the  righteous  Gover- 
 nor of  the  World  ihoald  inflidl:  fome  fignal  and  parraa- 
 nent  mark  of  his  difpleafure  on  the  occalion  cf  the  firil 
 tranfgreffion  of  the  firft  of  the  fpecies.  As  a  v»'ife  father, 
 who  has  found  his  child  once  guilty  of  a  breach  of  truth, 
 or  any  other  foul  crime,  feeins  at  firft  to  dilbelieve  it, 
 and  then  puniQies  him  Vvith  the  lofs  of  his  favour  for  a 
 very  long  time  after,  and  othcrv,  ife  ;  in  fuch  a  manner 
 as  may  be  likely  to  make  a  lafting  imprellion  on  his 
 mind,  and  deter  him  from  a  repetition  of  his  fault. 
 Scripture  informs  us,  accordingly,  that  immediately 
 upon  the  firft  offence,  the  trangreliors,  and. in  them  the 
 whole  fpecies,  were  funk  from  their  natural  immortality, 
 and  condemned  to  a  fiate  obnoxious  to  death. 
 
 Whether  eating  the  forbidden  fruit  was  not  the  na- 
 tural, as  well  as  judicial  caufe  of  d.ift;afe  and  death,  it  is 
 needlefs  to  difpute  ;  but  what  is  faid  of  the  tree  of  life 
 in  the  book  of  Genejls,  and  afterwards  in  the  Apocalypjc^ 
 as  if  it  were  a  natural  antidote,  or  cure  for  mortality, 
 and  the  means  of  preferving  life,  is  very  remarkable. 
 
 Death,  the  confequence  of  the  firil  tranfgrellion,  and 
 which  has  been  merited  by  innumerable  fucceding  of- 
 fences, was  pronounced  upon  mankind,  on  purpofe  to  be 
 to  all  ages  a  flanding  memorial  of  the  Divine  difplea- 
 fure againft  difobedience.  With  the  fame  view  alfo, 
 •Scripture  informs  us.,  the  various  natural  evils,  of  the 
 barrennefs  of  the  earth,  inclement  feafons,  and  the  oihcr 
 grievances,  under  which  nature  at  prefent  groans,  vyere 
 inflided  ;  that  men  might  no  where  turn  their  eyes  or 
 their  thoughts,  where  they  ihould  not  meet  a  caveat 
 againft  vice  and  irregularity. 
 
 Here  I  cannot  help  obferving,  by  the  by,  in  how  ri- 
 diculous a  light  the  Scripture  account  of  the  fatal  and 
 important  confequences  of  the  firli  tranfgrelTion  (hev/s 
 the  ufual  fuperficial  apologies  made  by  wretched  mor- 
 tals in  excufe  of  their  vices  and  follies.  One  crime  is 
 the  effect  of  thoughtlefnefs.  They  did  not,  forfooth,  con- 
 fider  how  bad  fuch  an  adion  was.  Another  is  a  natu- 
 ral adion.     Drunkennefs  is  only  an  immoderate  indul- 
 
 F  f  3  gcnce 
 
433  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IT. 
 
 gence  of  a  niUural  appetite  ;  and  fo  on.  Have  fuch 
 excufes  as  thefe  been  thought  fufficient  in  the  cafe  be- 
 fore OS  ?  The  eating  of  the  forbidden  fruit  was  only  in- 
 dulging a  natural  appetite  diredly  contrary  to  the  Di- 
 vine Command.  And  it  is  very  likely,  that  our  fivll: 
 parents  did  not  duly  attend  to  all  the  probable  confe- 
 quences  of  their  tranfgreffion.  But  neither  of  thefe 
 apologies,  nor  the  inexperiewce  of  the  offenders,  nor 
 their  being  overcome  by  temptation,  were  fufficient  to 
 avert  the  Divine  difpleafure,  the  marks  of  which,  we  and 
 our  world  bear  to  this  hour,  Difobedience  to  a  known 
 law  given  by  our  Ci'eator  and  Governor,  is  always  to  be 
 looked  upon  with  horror.  And  no  falfe  apology  ought 
 to  be  thought  of:  f)ra,vve  may  alTure  ourfelves,  none 
 Avill  be  admitted  before  our  Ail-leeing  Judge,  who  is 
 not  to  be  deceived. 
 
 The  next  remarkable  objedl  of  our  confideration,  in 
 this  general  farvey  of  Scripture,  is  a  dark  prophecy  of 
 a  conqueft  to  be  gained,  by  one  miraculoufly  defcended 
 of  our  fpecies,  over  the  grdnd  enemy  and  fir  11:  ieducer 
 of  mankind;  which  alfo  implies  fome  comfortable  hopes 
 of  a  reftoration  of  the  human  race  to  the  Divine  favour. 
 
 The  next  difpenfation  of  Heaven,  v^hich  we  read  of 
 in  Scripture,  is  that  moil  awful  and  remarkable  judg- 
 ment "of  the  univerfal  de:uge,  by  which  the  human  race 
 were,  for  the  unverfal  corruption  of  their  manners,  at 
 once  fwept  off  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  the  world 
 cleanfed  from  the  impurity  of  its  inhabitants.  Nothing 
 can  be  conceived  more  proper  for  makir,g  a  powerful 
 and  lafting  impreffion  on  mankind,  or  convincing  them 
 of  the  Divine  abhorrence  of  vice  and  difobedience,  than 
 to  be  informed  that  it  occafioned  the  cutting  off,  or  un- 
 making, the  whole  fpecies,  except  eight  perfous,  whom 
 their  lingular  virtue  preferved  amidlt  the  general  wreck 
 of  nature. 
 
 It  is  remarkable,  that  after  the  flood,  we  find  the  pe- 
 riod of  man's  life  confiderably  reduced  below  the  ftand- 
 ard  of  it  in  the  Antediluvian  age.  This  is  no  more  than 
 was  to  be  expedfed,  confidering  what  ufe  the  ancients 
 had  made  of  the  great  length  of  life  they  enjoyed.  The 
 abridging  the  term  of  Human  Life  is  alio  a  ftanding 
 
 memorial 
 
RevmhdReUgmi.)      HUMAN  NATURK.  439 
 
 memorial  of  the  Divine  difpleafure  againfl  vice.  Ic 
 naturally  lends,  by  bringing  death  nearer  the  vi-ew  of 
 even  the  yonngeft,  to  lellcn  men's  attachment  to  the  pre- 
 fent  (late,  and  lead  them  to  think  of  one  better,  and' 
 more  lafting.  By  this  means  alfo,  the  opportunities  of 
 offending  being  lefT^ned,  the  guilt  a»id  puniihinent  of 
 wretched  mortals  comes  to  be  yQxy  confiderably  di- 
 minifned. 
 
 The  laws  given  to  Noah  upon  his  coming  out  of  ths 
 ark,  feem  to  be  intended  for  mankind  in  genera),  as  he 
 was  the  common  father  of  all  who  have  lived  fi nee  his 
 time.  And  we  know  of  no  general  repeal  of  them. 
 The  liberty  of  killing  animals  for  food  is  derived  wholly 
 from  hence  ;  a  right  which  we  could  not  otlierwile 
 pretend  to.  Nor  can  the  oppofcrs  of  the  Divine  Au^ 
 thority  of  Scripture,  fliev/  any  pretence  for  killing  a 
 living  creature  for  food,  or  any  Ihadow  of  the  title 
 which  the  human  fpccies  have  to  the  life  of  any  crea- 
 ture Avhatever,  but  this  grant  from  the  Author  of  life, 
 Knd  Maker  of  all  creatures,'  v/ho  alone  has  a  right  to 
 difpoie  of  the  lives  of  his  creatures. 
 
 The  command  for  putting  to  death  every  murderer 
 vv^ithout  exception,  which  law  is  no  where  repealed, 
 feems  elfeclually  to  cut  off  all  power  of  pardoning  that 
 atrocious  crime.  And  many  crowned  heads  have  ac- 
 cordingly made  it  a  rule  never  to  extend  their  mercy 
 to  offenders  of  that  fort. 
 
 As  to  the  prohibition  of  blood,  its  obligation  on  us 
 has  been  difputed.  .  But,  as  the  blood  is  the  feat  of  al- 
 nioft  every  difeafe,  and  is  a  grofs,  unwholelome,  and 
 oaufeous  fubftance,  confifting  of  earth,  fait,  and  phlegm, 
 the  beft  way  is  evidently  to  ubftain  from  \t,  and  fo  make 
 fure  of  avoiding  a  breach  of  a  prohibition.  And  in- 
 deed, in  all  doubtful  cafes,  prudence  will  always  dircit 
 to  keep  on  the  fafe  iide.  At  the  fame  time,  the  ex- 
 ceflive  fcrupuloufnefs  of  the  Jews  about  the  leaft  par- 
 ticle of  blood  is  abfiird.  The  prohibition  is  only  againll 
 eating  an  animal  with  the  blood  in  it.  And  the  in- 
 tention was  probably  two-fold.  One  for  the  advantage 
 9f  healthy  the  other  religious;    that,   in  fhecl  ding  the. 
 
 Ff4  blood 
 
4^a  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IVj. 
 
 blood  of  the  animal,  a  libation  or  offering  might  thereby 
 be  paid  to  the  Lord  of  life,  and  Giver  of  all  gifts. 
 
 The  account  we  have  in  Scripture  of  the  building  of 
 the  tower  of  Bahel,  the  confufion  of  tongues,  and  fcat- 
 tering  the  people  abroad  into  different  countries,  is 
 nioil  naturally  loived  by  fuppoiing  their  deiign  to  have 
 been,  to  fet  up  an  univerfal  empire,  whofe  eftabliQied 
 religion  fliould  be  idolatry  and  polytheifm.  This  being 
 quite  contrary  to  the  Divine  intention  in  bleffing  man- 
 l-;ind  with  a  revelation  from  himft-lf,  it  was  not  fit,  that 
 it  Ihould  be  fufjered  to  take  place,  at  a  lime,  when  there 
 was  no  nation  in  the  world,  in  which  the  worfliip  of 
 the  true  God  prevailed.  The  difappointment  of  fuch 
 a  deiign  is  therefore  a  Divine  difpenfation  fit  to  be  re- 
 corded in  Scripture. 
 
 The  dellrudion  of  the  cities  of  the  Plain,  for  their 
 abominable  and  unnatural  vices,  is  a  Divmt  judgment 
 very  fit  to  be  related  in  the  records  of  the  difpenfations 
 of  God  to  mankind.  For  fuch  exemplaiy  vtugeance  oh 
 the  inhabitants  of  whole  towns,  upon  kingdom-s  and 
 empires,  and  upon  the  whole  world  together,  as  we 
 have  authentic  accounts  of  in  Scripture,  fiiews,  that 
 numbers,  inftead  of  alleviating,  do  in  fact  aggravate  the 
 guilt  of  offenders,  and  draw  down  a  fvi-ifter  and  furer 
 deffrudion.  When  we  read  in  Scripture  of  kingdoms 
 broken  in  pieces,  ofcities  deftroyed  by  fire  from  Heaven, 
 of  nations  partly  driven  from  their  own  country,  and 
 fcattered  abroad  over  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  partly 
 given  up  to  be  maffacred  by  a  bloody  enemy  ;  and  o| 
 the  whole  inhabitants  of  the  world  fwept  at  once  into  a 
 watery  grave-;  all  for  vices  faffiionable  in  thole  timeSj 
 and  patroniied  by  the  great ;  when  Ave  read  fuch 
 accounts  of  the  effefe  of  following  fafliion  and  imi- 
 tating great  examples,  we  mull  have  very  little  thought, 
 if  we  can  bring  ourfelves  to  imagine,  that  there  is  any 
 fafety  in  giving  up  confcience  to  falhion,  or  that  fuch 
 an  excufe  vi'iil  at  all  alleviate  our  guilt,  or  punifiunent. 
 While  we  are  in  the  full  purfuit  and  enjoyment  ot  lolly 
 and  vice,  we  rejoice  in  going  along  with  the  multitude, 
 not  confidering,  how  much  we  (liall  wifh  hereafter,  that 
 we  had  been  finguiar  and  unfaihionablc,  like  thq  illuf- 
 
 trious 
 
.Revealed Religion. J      HUMAN  NATURE.  441 
 
 trioLis  heroes  of  ancient  times,  Noab,  Lot,  and  Mrabam,\ 
 who  had  the  courage  to  ftand  the  empty  raillery  of 
 their  cotemporaries;  lingular  in  their  virtue,  and  finga- 
 lar  in  the  leward  of  it.  Thofe,  who  now  encoura>^e 
 us  in  vice  and  folly,  will  not  hereafter  atlllt  us 
 in  fuffering  their  appointed  confequehces.  And  the 
 appearance  of  God,  angeis,  and  juft  men,  on  the  fi'de  of 
 virtue  at  1aft,  will  make  another  fort  of  fliew  for  keep- 
 ing its  votaries  in  countenance,  than  that  of  the  fine 
 folks  does  now  for  the  fupport  of  the  oppofite  praciice. 
 
 The  moll  remarkable  inllance  that  ever  was  given  of 
 the  Divine  approbation,  and  diilinguii"hing  favour  for 
 fingular  goodnefs,  is  in  the  cale  of  Abraham.  This 
 venerable  patriarch,  according  to  the  Scripture  account, 
 was  a  faithful  worlhipper  of  the  true  God,  while  the 
 whole  world  was  funk  in  idolatry  and  fuperflition.  He 
 is  on  that  account  honoured  with  the  glorious  titles  of 
 Father  of  the  Faithful,  and  Friend  of  God  ;  appointed 
 head  of  the  family,  from  whence  the  MelJiah  was  to 
 fpring ;  and  his  pollerity  chofen  of  God  for  a  peculiar 
 people,  the  keepers  of  the  Divine  oracles,  and  the  only 
 witnefTes  for  the  true  God,  againft  an  idolatrous  world. 
 He  himfelf  is  called  from  his  own  country,  and  diredted 
 by  Divine  authority  to  remove  to  a  dillant  land  ;  he  is  tried 
 and  improved  by  difficulties  :  for  hardfhips  are  often  • 
 marks  of  the  Divine  favour,  rather  than  the  contrary. ^ 
 That  the  honours  Aiewn  him  in  conrequence'*''of  liis  liij-.' 
 gular  piety  might  be  confpicuous  to  the  whole  world,' 
 they  do  not  drop  with  him  ;  but  arc  continued  to  his 
 pollerity,  who  have  been,  and  are  likely  to  be,  the  moil 
 remarkable  people  on  earth,  and  dillinguillied  from 
 all  others,  as  long  as  the  world  lads. 
 
 It  is  very  remarkable^  that  there  is  hardly  a  great 
 cliaradier  in  Scripture,  in  which  we  have  not  an  exprefs 
 account  of  fome  blemiih„  A  very  ilrong  prefumption, 
 that  the  narration  is  taken  from  truth  ;  not  fancy.  Of 
 this  illuftrious  pattern  of  heroic  and  fingular  virtue,  fome 
 inftances  of  fhameful  timidity,  and  diffidence  in  the 
 Divine  Providence,  are  related.'  Of  Mofes  Ibme  marks 
 of  peeviflinefs  are  by  himfelf  confefied.  The  charadcr 
 ©f  the  divine  pfalmiil  is  fuaded  with  fome  grofs  faulrs. 
 
 SolomoUy 
 
44i  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  III. 
 
 Solomo7i,  the  wifelt  ot"  men,  is  recorded  to  nave  been 
 guilty  of  the  greateft  folly.  Several  of  the  prophets 
 are  cenfnred  for  their  mifbchavioar.  The  weaknefsand. 
 timidity  of  the  apoflles  in  general,  in  forfaking  their 
 Mailer  in  his  extremity,  are  faithfully  reprefented  by 
 themfeives,  and  even  the  aggravated  crime  of  denying 
 him  with  oaths  (to  fay  nothing  of  Judas' s  treachery) 
 not  concealed.  This  is  not  the  ftrain  of  a  romance. 
 The  inventors  of  a  plauiible  (lory  would  not  have  pur- 
 pofely  difparaged  the  characlers  of  their  heroes  in  fuch 
 a  manner,  to  gain  no  rational  end  whatever. 
 
 One  ufeful  and  noble  inftruclion  from  this  remarka- 
 ble mixture  in  the  characlers  of  the  Scripture-worthies, 
 is.  That  human  nature,  in  its  prelent  Hate,  is  at  belt 
 greatly  defedive,  and  liable  to  fatal  errors,  which,  at 
 the  fame  time,  if  not  perfilled  in,  but  reformed,  do  not 
 hinder  a  charadier  from  being  predominately  good,  or 
 difqualify  a  perfon  from  the  Divine  mercy  ;  which,  it 
 is  to  be  hoped,  has  been  the  cafe  of  many  in  all  ages, 
 nations,  and  religions,  though  none  perfefl.  Which 
 teaches  us  the  proper  courfe  we  ought  to  take,  when  we 
 difcoverin  ourfelvesany  wicked  tendency,  or  have  fallen 
 into  any  grofs  error  ;  to  wit,  Not  to  give  ourfelves  up 
 to  defpair  ;  but  to  refolve  bravely  to  reform  it,  and  re- 
 cover our  virtue. 
 
 We  arfif  told  in  Scripture,  that  the  defcendants  of 
 Abraham  were,  by  a  peculiar  providence,  carried  into 
 Egypt.  The  defign  of  this  was,  probably,  to  communi- 
 cate to  that  people,  the  parents  of  learning  in  thofe 
 early  times,  fome  knowledge  of  the  God  of  Ahrahaviy 
 which  might  remain  after  they  were  gone  from  thence, 
 and  from  them  might  fpread  to  the  other  Hi'tions  around. 
 The  lignal  miracles  wrought  by  Mofes  ;  the  ten  imme^ 
 diate  judgments  inflicted  upon  the  people  of  Egypt; 
 the  deliverance  of  the  Ifraelitcs  from  their  bondage, 
 with  a  high  hand,  in  open  defiance  of  the  Egyptian 
 power,  under  the  condud  of  a  fhepherd  ;  and  the 
 dellrudion  of  the  whole  Egyptian  army,  in  their  endea- 
 vour to  flop  their  flight ;  thefe  conlpicuous  interpofi- 
 tions  ought  to  have  convinced  that  people,  that  the  God 
 "whom  the  Ifraelitcs  worfhipped,  was  funerior  to  their 
 
 baffled 
 
Revealed  ReFtghn.)     HUMAN  NATURE.  443 
 
 baffled  idol  and  brute  deities.  But  bigotry,  and  the 
 force  of  education,  are  hardly  to  be  conquered  by  any 
 means  whatever. 
 
 We  have  an  account  in  Scripture  of  Mofes^s  conduct- 
 ing the  Ifraelites  through  the  vaft  defert  oi  Arabia,  for 
 forty  years  together,  with  a  continued  feries  of  miracu- 
 lous interpolitions,  (their  march  itfelf  one  of  the  greatelt 
 of  miracles)  in  order  to  their  eitablifliment  in  the  coun- 
 try appointed  them.  The  defign  ot  their  not  being  fooner 
 put  in  pofTeilion  of  the  promifed  country,  was,  as  we  art; 
 informed  by  Mo/>j-  himfelf,  to  break  and  punifh  their 
 perverfe  and  reDellious  temper ;  for  which  reafon  alfo, 
 only  two  of  thofe,  who  came  out  o?  Egypt,  reached  the 
 promifed  country  ;  all  the  reft  dying  in  the  wildernefs. 
 Nor  did  even  Mofes  himfelf  attain  the  happinefs  of  en- 
 joying the  promiledland;  which  healfoforefavvhe  fliould 
 not,  and  therefore  could  have  no  felfith  views  for  him- 
 felf, in  putting  himfelt  at  the  head  of  this  unruly  peo- 
 ple, to  wander  all  his  life,  and  at  laft  perifli  in  a  hovel- 
 ing wildernefs ;  when  he  might  have  lived  in  cafe  and 
 luxury  in  the  Egyptian  court.  And  that  he  had  no 
 icherne  for  aggranaizing  his  family,  is  evident  from  his 
 leaving  them  in  the  llation  of  common  Levites. 
 
 The  people  of  Ifrael,  arriving  at  the  promifed  coun- 
 try, proceed,  by  Divine  command,  to  extirpate  the 
 whole  people,  who  then  inhabited  it,  and  to  take  poflef- 
 iion  of  it  for  themfelves  and  their  poftcrity.  And  there 
 is  no  doubt,  but  any  other  people  may,  at  any  time,  do 
 the  lame,  upon  the  fame  authority.  For,  He,  "who 
 made  the  earth,  may  give  the  kingdoms  of  it  to  whom 
 he  will.  And  it  is  lit,  that  tt'iey  who  are  not  worthy  to 
 inherit  a  good  land,  (hould  be  driven  out  of  it.  Which 
 was  the  cale  with  the  people,  who  inhabited  the  land 
 of  Canaa?2,  upon  the  arrival  of  the  Ifraelites  there.  For 
 at  that  time,  we  are  told,  the  meafure  ot  their  iniquity 
 was  full.  The  Ifraelites  therefore  were  authorifed  ut- 
 terly to  deftroy  them,  for  their  enormous  wickednefs ; 
 and  to  take  poiTelfion  of  their  country,  not  on  account 
 of  their  own  goodnefs  ,  but,  as  exprefsly  and  frequently 
 declared,  in  rsmcmbvnucQ  of  Jl>ralHWi,  the  pious  foun- 
 der 
 
444  '5'HE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 der  of  the  nation.  If  the  ancient  Pagan  inhabitants  of 
 Ganaan  were  driven  out  before  the  I/raelites,  as  a  proof 
 of  God's  difpleafure  againli  their  idolatry,  and  other 
 crimes,  nothing  could  be  a  more  proper  warning  to  the 
 people  of  Ifrael,  to  avoid  falling  into  the  fame  vices, 
 which  they  fiw  bring  utter  extirpation  upon  the  natives 
 'of  the  country.  Nor  could  any  furer  proof  be  given 
 the  nations  around,  of  the  fuperiority  of  the  God  of  the 
 Jjradliies,  to  the  idols  they  vvorfhipped,  than  his  giving 
 vidory  to  his  votaries  (a  feemingly  fugitive,  unarmed, 
 mixed  muhitude  of  men,  women,  and  children)  over 
 powerful  and  warlike  nations,  under  regular  difcipline, 
 and  in  their  own  country. 
 
 Here  is  again  another  pregnant  inftance  of  the  dif- 
 ferent confequences  of  virtue,  and  of  vice.  Several 
 great  and  powerful  iiingdoms  overturned  for  national 
 wickednefs. 
 
 It  is  evident  from  the  ftrain  of  Scripture,  that  the 
 people  oi  Ifrael  were  fet  up  as  an  example  to  all  nations, 
 of  God's  goodnefs  to  the  obedient,  and  feverity  to  dif- 
 obedicjice.  It  was  from  the  beginning,  before  their 
 entrance  upon  the  promifed  land,  foretold  them  by 
 MofeSf  that,  if  they  continued  attached  to  the  worfliip 
 of  the  true  God,  and  obedient  to  his  laws,  they  fliould 
 be  great  and  happy  above  all  nations ;  the  peculiar 
 care  of  Heaven,  and  the  repofitory  of  the  true  religion  : 
 But  if  they  revolted  from  their  God,  and  degenerated 
 into  idolatry  and  vice,  they  were,  as  a  punifliment,  to 
 be  driven  out  of  their  country,  and  fcattered  into  all 
 rations  under  heaven.  Which  puniQiment  was  alfo  to 
 turn  to  the  general  advantage  of  mankind  :  as  the 
 more  pious  among  them  would  naturally  carry  the  know- 
 ledge of  the  true  God  into  all  the  countries  where  they 
 were  fcattered  ;  which  happened  accordingly. 
 
 In  order  to  the  fettlement  of  this  remarkable  people 
 in  the  land  appointed  them,  as  a  theocracy,  or  govern- 
 ment immediately  under  God,  a  body  of  civil  laws  is 
 given  them  diredlly  from  heaven  by  the  hand  of  Mofes; 
 aviiiblefupernaturalglory,  called,  the  Shekinah^  abiding 
 conftantly  among  them,  as  an  emblem  of  the  Divine 
 Prefence,  and  an  oracle  to  have  recourfe  to  in  all  diffi- 
 culties. 
 
Revealed  Religion. )     HUMAN   NATURE.  445 
 
 culties.  ^  A  civil  polity  eftablifhed  for  them,  calculated 
 in  the  beft  manner  pollible  for  preventing  avarice,  am- 
 bition, corruption,  exhorbitant  riches,  opprellibn,  or 
 fedition  among  themfelves,  and  attacks  from  the  fur- 
 rounding  nations  upon  them,  or  temptations  to  draw 
 them  into  a  defire  of  conquefl ;  in  which  lall:  particu- 
 lars the  J/^t'ic^yZ' conftitution  exceeded  the  Spartcw,  the 
 nioft  perfedl  of  all  human  fchemes  of  government,  and 
 the  beft  calculated  to  fecure  univcrfal  happinefs. 
 
 In  a  theocracy,  or  Divine  government,  it  was  to  bC' 
 expecfted  that  religion  fliouM  be  the  foundation  of  the 
 civil  conftitution.  And  had  that  people  been  able  to 
 bear  a  purely  fpirituai  fcheme  of  religion,  there  is  no 
 doubt,  but  fuch  a  one  had  been  given  them.  As  it  is, 
 "vVe  plainly  trace  their  laws  up  to  their  Divine  original. 
 in  the  decalogue,  the  foundation  of  their  whole  legifla- 
 t'ion,  we  find  the  very  firft  law  fets  forth  the  Divine 
 fcheme  in  feparating  them  from  the  other  nations  of 
 the  world,  viz.  To  keep  up,  in  one  country  at  ieafl, 
 the  knowledge  and  worfliip  of  the  true  God,  againft  the 
 univerfal  idolatry  and  fuperftition,  which  prevailed  m 
 tile  reft  of  the  world.  The  foundatixvn  of  all  their  lawSy 
 civil  and  religious,  is  therefore  laid  in  the  firft  com- 
 mandment ;  in  which  they  are  exprefsly  forbid  to  hold 
 any  other  deity,  but  that  of  the  Supreme.  As  their 
 v/hole  law  is  iummed  up  in  the  tw^o  great  precepts  of 
 Loving  God,  and  Loving  their  fellow-creatures. 
 
 In  this  compendof  the  original  law  given  to  xhzjew^, 
 it  is  extremely  remarkable,  that  thefe  two  grand  precepts 
 are  directly  obligatory  upon  the  mind.  Which  proves 
 either,  that  this  body  of  laws  was  given  by  Him  who 
 know-s  the  inward  motions  of  the  mind,  as  well  as  the 
 outward  adions,  and  can  punifti  the  irregularities  oi: 
 the  one,  as  well  as  the  other,  or  that  the  author  of  it, 
 fuppofing  it  a  mere  human  invention,  was  a  man  of  no 
 manner  of  thought  or  confideration.  For  what  mere 
 human  lawgiver,  who  was  in  his  fenfes,  could  think  ot 
 making  a  prohibition,  which  he  never  could  punilh, 
 nor  fo  much  as  know,  whether  his  laws  were  kept  or 
 violated  ?  But  the  whole  character  of  Mofes,  the  wif- 
 dom  of  the  laws  he  framed  for  the  people  of  ^rael,  his 
 
 plan 
 
446  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I^ 
 
 plan  of  government,  preferable  to  the  bell  human 
 Ichemes,  and  which  accordingly  continued  longer  than 
 any  of  thera  ever  did,  without  the  addition,  or  repeal 
 of  one  law  ;  thefe  fhew  this.moft  ancient  and  venerable 
 jegillator  to  have  been  above  any  fuch  grofs  abfurdity,  , 
 as  would  have  appeared  in  making  laws  obligatory  on 
 the  mind,  which  is  naturally  free,  and  whofe  motions 
 are  cognizable  by  no  judge,  but  the  Searcher  of  hearts; 
 .and  all  this  without  any  authority  above  human.  And, 
 that  intentions,  as  well  as  actions,  were  accordingly 
 commonly  puniQied  in  that  people,  is  plain  from  their 
 hiftory.     But  to  proceed. 
 
 In  the  fecond  commandment,  the  worfhip  even  of 
 the  true  God,  by  images  or  reprelentations,  is  prohi- 
 bited, as  leading  naturally  to  unworthy  ideas  of  a  pure, 
 uncorporeal,  infinitely  perfecl  mind  ;  and  as  fymbo- 
 lizing  with  the  idolatry  of  the  nations  around.  In  the 
 third,  the  due  reverence  for  the  name,  and  confequently 
 the  attributes,  and  honours,  of  the  Divine  Majefly,  is 
 fecured  by  a  molt  awful  threatning  againll  thole,  v.'ho 
 fliould  be  guilty  of  any  irreverent  manner  of  treating 
 the  tremendous  name  ofGod.  And  the  fourth  fets  apart 
 one  day  in  feven,  as  facred  to  God  and  religion. 
 
 The  remaining  fix  laws  fecure  the  obfervance  of  duty 
 with  refped;  to  the  life,  chaftity,  property,  and  reputa- 
 tion of  others  ;  which  fet  of  laws  are  very  properly 
 founded  in  due  reverence  to  parents,  from  whom  all 
 relative  and  focial  obligations  take  their  rife.  And  in 
 the  tenth  commandment,  there  is  again  another  inltance 
 fuitable  to  the  Divine  authority,  which  enacled  thcfe 
 laws  ;  this  precept  being  obligatory  on  the  mind  only, 
 and  having  no  regard  to  any  outward  adtion. 
 
 The  people  of  Ifrael,  as  obferved  above,  were  of  a 
 temper  too  grofs  and  earthly  to  be  capable  of  a  reli- 
 gion, like  the  Chriftian,  wholly  fpiritual.  Thofe  early 
 ages  of  the  world  were  not  fufficiently  improved,  to  be, 
 in  general,  fit  for  any  thing  above  mere  fenfe  ;  or  how- 
 ever, were  more  likely  to  be  affected  by  what  was  fit 
 to  ad:  upon  the  fenfes,  than  what  might  be  addreffed  to 
 the  underftanding.  A  body  of  religious  ceremonies 
 Z,  ■  was 
 
Revealed  Religion.)      HUMAN  NATURE.  447 
 
 was  therefore  incorporated  with,  and  made  a  part  of 
 their  polity,  or  contiitulion.  But  even  in  them,  the 
 ultimate  dclign  of  roparating  that  people  from  all  others, 
 is  every  where  vilible,  and  almoft  every  particular 
 holds  it  forth.  For  the  religious  ceremonies  may  ia 
 general  be  confideied  as  tending  to  give  typical  reprc- 
 fentations  of  the  Chrirtianfcheme,  which  was  the  finifli- 
 ing  of  all  the  Divine  difpenfations ;  under  which  head 
 may  be  comprehended  the  various  facrifices  and  obla- 
 tions ;  and  to  keep  the  people  continually  in  mind  of 
 their  being  in  a  ftate  of  guilt  before  God  ;  for  which 
 purpofc  the  ceremonial  purifications  were  properly 
 adapted  ;  to  prevent  their  deviating  into  idolatry,  by 
 giving  theni  a  religion,  which  might  employ  them,  and 
 in  fome  refped:  fuit  their  grofs  appreheniions  ;  accord- 
 ingly, the  ceremonies  of  the  law  are  in  Scripture  called 
 imperfex:!  Itatutes,  and  carnal  ordinances ;  to  prove  a 
 yoke  and  puniQunent  for  their  frequent  tendency  to 
 idolatry,  and  image-worfhip  ;  the  ceremonial  law  is 
 therefore  called  in  Scripture  an  intolerable  yoke  ;  and 
 to  convey  many  noble  morals  under  fenfible  Hgns  ;  of 
 which  one  conliderable  one  may  be.  That  by  the  fre- 
 quent inllidiion  of  death  on  the  vidims  offered,  they 
 might  never  be  fuffered  to  forget,  that  death  is  the 
 wages  of  lin. 
 
 We  have  in  Scripture  the  hiftory  of  that  mofl  extra- 
 ordinary people  partly  related,  and  partly  predicted, 
 during  a  period  of  above  three  thoufand  years,  making 
 a  continued  feries  of  miraculous  interpofitions  (for  their 
 prefent  ftate  is  as  much  fo,  as  any  of  the  pall)  in  which 
 the  various  unexampled  viciffitudes  they  have  under- 
 gone, and  which  they  are  yet  to  pafs  through,  are  evi- 
 dently owing  to  direct  interpofitions  of  Divine  Provi- 
 dence, and  are  all  along  the  immediate  confequence  of 
 their  behaviour  to  their  God. 
 
 •Thus,  to  mention  a  few  remarkable  inftances,  if  they 
 murmur  againft  Mofis  in  the  wildernefs,  and  worfhip 
 idols  of  their  own  making,  their  carcafes  fall  there,  and 
 none  of  them  is  allowed  to  enter  the  promifcd  land, 
 which  is  given  to  their  children.  If  they  avariciouily, 
 and  contrary  to  command,  keep  the  fpoils  of  the  hea- 
 then! fti 
 
448  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IT. 
 
 theniih  enemy,  they  are  vanquiflied  in  the  next  engage- 
 ment. If  they  be  obedient  to  God,  and  attack  their 
 cnenues  in  full  confidence  of  the  Divine  Strength,  they 
 conquer.  If  one  king  fets  up  the  worfhip  of  idols,  the 
 Divine  Vengeance  puniflies  him  and  his  people.  If 
 another  dedroys  the  high  places,  where  thofe  infamous 
 rites  were  celebrated,  all  goes  well  in  his  time.  If  a 
 fucceiiion  of  infpired  prophets  is  raifed  among  them,"  to 
 keep  them  in  mind  of  their  allegiance  toGod;and  they  put 
 them  to  death,  one  after  another,  for  their  unacceptable 
 freedom,  in  reproving  the  prevailing  vices  of  both  king  and 
 people,  and  deviate,  from  time  to  time,  through  the  in- 
 fedion  of  the  neighbouring  countries,  into  idolatry  and 
 vice,  they  are  carried  avvay  captive  to  Babylon.  If  they 
 repent  of  their  fatal  degeneracy,  and  remember  their 
 God,  whom  they  have  forfaken,  he  turns  their  captivi- 
 ty, and  brings  about  their  reftoration  to  their  own  land 
 once  more.  And  laftly,  if  ihey  fiil  up  the  meafure  of 
 their  iniquity  by  imbruing  their  wicked  hands  in  the 
 blood  of  their  Mejjiah,  they  are  totally  rooted  out  of 
 the  land,  which  was  giyen  to  their  fathers  ;  their  tem- 
 ple is  demoliihed;  their  country  given  to  the  Gentiles^ 
 and  themfelves  fo  fcattered  abroad  in  all  nations,  that 
 greater  numbers  of  them  may  be  found  almoft  in  any 
 country  than  their  own  ;  and  to  this  difperfion,  which 
 has  already  continued  for  upwards  of  feventeen  hundred 
 years,  is  added,  according  to  the  predidlion  of  Mo/es, 
 fuch  uncommon  diftrefs,  as  is  not  to  be  equalled  in  the 
 hiftory  of  any  other  nation. 
 
 The  early  and  total  difperfion  of  the  ten  tribes,  with- 
 out any  return  hitherto  (though  it  is  expedfed,  ac- 
 cording to  ancient  prophecy,  in  the  laft  ages  of  the 
 world)  ought  to  have  been  conlidered  by  them  as  an 
 awful  v\arning  of  what  the  remaining  part  of  that  peo- 
 ple might  expcdt  to  be  their  own  fate,  if  they  proved 
 difobedient.  And  from  the  hirtory  of  the  whole  twelve 
 tribes,  one  of  the  nobleft  and  moft  important  morals 
 m  ly  be  drawn,  viz.  That  a  nation  may  expe6t  to  proi- 
 per,  or  link,  according  as  it  is  favoured  by  Divine  Pro- 
 vidence, or  the  contrary;  and  that  therefore  virtue  is 
 the  only  fure  foundation  of  national  happinefs, 
 
 4  But 
 
Revealed  Rdlgkn.)         HUMAN   NATURE,  44r, 
 
 But  after  all  their  irregularities  and  degeneracies 
 from  their  God,  and  his  obedience  and  worfliip,  ihej 
 arc  all,  (rhe  polleriry  of  the  ten  tribes,  as  well  as  the 
 two)  according  to  ancient  prophecy,  to  be  finally  re- 
 placed in  their  own  country,  in  greater  happinefs  and 
 glory  than  ever.  Ail  which  peculiar  honours,  impor- 
 tant difpenfations,  and  fingular  interpolirions  for  this 
 peorple,  the  pofterity  of  Abraham  are  intended  as  a 
 {landing  proof,  during  a  period  of  near  four  thoufand 
 years  already,  and  how  much  longer  God  knov.-s,  of 
 what  value  in  the  fight  of  God,  the  fingular  piety  of 
 that  venerable  patriarch  was,  for  whom  it  feems  as  if  he 
 could  not  (fo  to  fpeak)  do  favours  enough  even  to  the 
 lateft  pofi:erity  of  him  who  had  greatly  flood  up  alone  for 
 theworfhip  of  th€  true  God  againft  a  whole  world  funk 
 in  idolatry. 
 
 Prophecy  makes  a  very  confiderable  part  of  reveh^- 
 tion.  In  the  predidtions  of  Scripture,  there  is  found 
 fome  £iccDunt  of  the  future  fate  of  many  of  the  empires 
 _  and  cities  which  have  made  the  greateft  figure  in  the 
 world.  From  whence  we  learn,  that  the  author  of  pro- 
 phecy is  the  God  of  the  Gentiles  as  well  as  o^  xht  Jews. 
 That  neither  his  prefcience,  nor  his  power,  is  limited  to 
 the  affairs  of  any  one  nation  whatever. 
 
 No  branch  of  Scripture  prophecy  is  fointerefling  to  us  as 
 thofe  which  hold  forth  the  coming  of  the  M<?/^fl/:>  and  his 
 kingdom,  which  (hine  more  and  more  clearly  from  the6rl> 
 obfcure  one  given  immediately  after  the  fall,  **  That  the 
 ^'  Seed  of  the  woman  fhould  bruife  the  feipent's  head  j'' 
 dow^n  through  a  period  of  four  thoufand  years,  to  thofe 
 plain  ones  given  by  Zacbarias  the  priell,  Si?neon,  Ajina^ 
 and  John  the  Baptift,  his  immediate  fore-runner  •,  and 
 thus  the  important  defigns  of  God,  with  regard  to  man- 
 kind, opened  by  degrees,  every  great  prophecy  carrying 
 on  the  view  to  the  lafl:  glorious  ages ;  till  at  length  our 
 Saviour  himfelf  comes  as  a  light  into  the  world,  and 
 carries  his  fublime  informations  and  heavenly  precepts 
 immenfely  beyond  what  had  been  done  by  all  rhe  pro- 
 phets, lawgivers,  and  philofophers,  opening  a  profpccl 
 into  eternity,  and  bringing  life  and  immortality  to  light. 
 Ofprophecy  more  hereafter. 
 
 Gg  The 
 
450  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 The  hiflory  of  our  Saviour's  birth,  life,  miracles,  doc- 
 trine, predictions,  death,  refurredion,  and  afcenfion, 
 makes  a  very  confiderable  part  of  Scripture. 
 
 The  Chriftian  fcheme  itfelf  may  be  coniidered  as  the 
 publication  of  an  act  of  grace  to  a  rebellious  world,  and 
 of  the  terms  upon  which  God  will  mercifully  receive 
 mankind  into  favour.  The  lublime,  the  interefting,  and 
 comfortable  views  it  exhibits  are  thefc  : 
 
 God,  the  Original  of  all  being,  the  Father  of  man- 
 kind, who  brought  the  fpecics  into  exitlence  with  a 
 view  wholly  to  their  happinefs,  willing  to  forgive  his 
 offending  guilty  creatures  upon  any  terms  coniiuent 
 with  the  honour  of  his  government ;  but  at  the  fame 
 time  difpleafed  with  vice  and  irregularity,  and  not  t,o 
 be  reconciled  to  offenders,  but  upon  proper  conditions. 
 Or  in  other  words,  the  Chriftian  religion  reprefents  Al- 
 mighty God  in  the  twofold  character  of  the  wife  and 
 righteous  Governor  of  the  moral  world,  and  of  the  ten- 
 der and  merciful  Father  of  his  creatures. 
 
 The  Chriftian  fcheme  reprefents  the  human  fpecies, 
 "who  were  originally,  as  all  orders  of  rational  beings, 
 obliged  to  a  perfect  obedience  to  the  Divine  Authority, 
 and,  in  confequence  of  that,  infured  of  a  happy  immor- 
 tality, univcrfally  degenerate,  and  become  obnoxious 
 to  punifhment  by  difobedience.  Which  renders  fome 
 expedient  neceffary  for  faving-  them  from  deftrudion, 
 confidently  with  the  dignity  of  the  Divine  govern- 
 ment. 
 
 The  third  character  concerned  in  the  Chriftian 
 fcheme,  is  the  Meffiab,  the  Son  of  God,  who  is  in  it  ex- 
 hibited as  leaving  his  celeftial  ftate,  and  affuming  the 
 human  nature,  to  give  up  voluntarily  his  life  for  the 
 lins  of  mankind,  in  order  to  their  being  reftored  to 
 a  capacity  of  pardon  upon  repentance  and  reforma- 
 tion. 
 
 In  the  blamelefs  life  of  this  glorious  perfon,  while  on 
 earth,  a  perfed;  example  is  let  before  mankind  of  obe- 
 dience to  the  Divine  laws;  and  in  his  fufferings,  of  pa- 
 tience and  reiignation  to  the  will  of  God. 
 
 In  his  dodrines,  the  perfedions  of  God  are  more 
 dearly  manifeiled  to  mankind,  than  by  any,  or  all  the 
 
 '  other 
 
Revealed  Rellgkn.)    HUMAN    NATURE.  451 
 
 other  teachers  that  ever  appeared.  The  evil  of  Vice, 
 the  excellency  of  virtue,  and  their  reipedive  connec- 
 tions with  happinefs  and  mifery,  more  fully  fet  forth. 
 The  dignity  of  the  human  nature  more  glorioully  ma- 
 nifeiled  in  the  importiince  of  the  fche.me  for  the  relto- 
 ration  of  mnn,  and  the  high  elevation  to  which  Chrilli- 
 anity  teaches  to  afpire.  The  proper  and  acceptable 
 method  of  worfhipping  God,  declared.  The  certainty 
 of  obtaining  pardon  upon  repentance  and  reformation. 
 The  future  refurreclion  of  the  body,  and  the  everlafting 
 and  increafing  happinefs  of  the  whole  man,  ufcertained 
 beycrid  iloubt* 
 
 In  his  laws,  the  whole  duty  of  man  is  more  fully  and 
 perfedly  declared,  and  with  an  authority  to  which  no 
 other  lawgiver  could  pretend;  which  ,r.athority  he  con- 
 firms by  unquellionable  miracles  and  predictions  fully 
 accomplilhed  ;  by  conferring  on  his  followers  the  power 
 of  working  miracles;  and  efpecially  by  rifing  from  the 
 <^ead,  according  to  his  own  prediiftion.  The  fubllance 
 of  the  preceptive  part  of  Ghriftianity  is  -contained  in  the 
 following  paragraph. 
 
 On  account  of  the  death  and  interceffion  of  the  Mef- 
 Jiah,  that  perfedl  and  blamelefs  obedience,  which  is  na- 
 turally the  indifpenfible  duty  of  man,  and  all  rational 
 creatures,  the  defe6t  of  which  made  an  expiation  and 
 interceffion  necelTary,  is  gracioufly  difpenfed  with;  and 
 inftead  of  it,  thorough  repentance  for  all  our  offence?, 
 which  implies  the  reformation  of  them,  as  far  as  human 
 frailty  will  admit,  and  a  candid  reception  and  fteady 
 belief  of  the  Chriftian  religion,  and  fincere  endeavours 
 t-o  obey  its  laws,  and  to  attain  the.  perfcdion  of  its 
 graces  and  virtues,  accepted,  and  made  the  condition 
 of  pardon  and  everlafting  happinefs :  Which  are,  love, 
 reverence,  gratitude,  and  obedience  to  God.  Love, 
 gratitude,  and  obedience  to  Chrifi\  through  whom,  as 
 the  appointed  interceffor,  we  are  by  revelation  taught 
 to  addrefs  the  Almighty  Father  of  all,  and  whofe  death 
 we  are  to  commemorate  according  to  his  app©intment. 
 Thankfulnefs  to  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  Comforter,  and 
 infpirer.  Benevolence  to  men.  Temperance  with  re- 
 aped to  our  own  paffions  and  appetites.  Humility, 
 •  G  §  2  mcckncfs. 
 
452  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 meeknefs,  cbaftity,  purity  of  heart,  integrity  in  thought 
 and  word  ;  mercy,  charity,  and  the  performance  of  all 
 the  fecial  and  relative  duties  of  life ;  forgiving  ot  inju- 
 ries, loving  enemies,  prudence  without  cunning ;  zeal 
 without  rancour  ;  fteadinefs  without  obftinacy  ;  con- 
 tempt of  riches,  honours,  pleafures,  and  all  worldly 
 things;  courage  to  ftand  up  for  the  truth  in  fpite  of  the 
 applaufe  or  threatenings  of  men;  attention  above  all 
 things  to  the  concerns  of  futurity  ;  vigilance  agamft 
 temptations  from  within,  and  from  the  allurements  of 
 the  world,  and  perieverance  to  the  end  in  alpiring 
 after  the  ineftimable  prize  of  a  glorio'us  and  happy  im- 
 mortality. 
 
 Chriftianity  propofes  the  noblefl  motives  to  obedience 
 that  can  be  conceived,  and  the  fitted  for  influencing 
 fuch  an  order  of  beings  as  mankind.  The  moft  fordid 
 and  ftupid  is  likely  to  be  alarmed  by  the  threatenings  of 
 a  punifnment  inconceivably  terrible,  and  of  immenfe 
 duration.  The  naturg.1  confequence  of  which  fear  is, 
 its  being  deterred  from  vice,  and  forced  to  think  of  re- 
 forming. Froni  whence  the  next  ftep  is  into  ibbriety, 
 or  negative  goodnefs :  Which  leads  naturally  to  the 
 practice  of  diredt  virtue  ;  and,  as  praftice  produces  ha- 
 bit, the  ilTue  to  be  expeded  is,  a  habit  of  virtue ;  an 
 attachment  to  goodnefs  ;  farther  and  farther  degrees  of 
 improvement;  and  in  the  end  fuch  a  perfedion  in  the 
 government  of  pallion  and  appetite,  in  benevolence  to 
 mankind,  and  piety  to  God,  as  will,  upon  the  Chiiftian 
 plan,  qualify  for  future  happinefs. 
 
 Thus  the  denunciation  of  future  punifhment  for 
 vice,  which  Chriftianity  fets  forth,  is  evidently  a  wife 
 and  proper  means  for  promoting  virtue :  Efpecially, 
 if  we  add  the  encouragement  of  certainty  of  pardon 
 upon  repentance  and  reformation,  which  important 
 point  we  owe  wholly  to  revelation.  And  if  we  alfo 
 take  in  the  views  of  the  fupernatural  affiftance  which 
 Chriftianity  encourages  well-difpofed  perfons  to  exped 
 m  their  conflid:  with  temptation  and  vice;  and  thofe 
 liigh  honours,  and  that  fublime  happinefs,  which  re- 
 vealed religion  fets  before  mankind,  as  the  confequence 
 •f  H  victorious  perfeverance  in  virtue.     The  fitnefs  of 
 
 fucl> 
 
Revealed  Religion.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  4^3 
 
 fuch  motives  for  powerfuUj  influencing  fuch  an  order 
 of  beings  as  the  human  fpecies,  is  a  proof,  that  the  re- 
 ligion which  prop)fes  them  is  of  Him  who  formed  the 
 human  fpecies;  who  endowed  mankind  with  reafon, 
 with  hope,  and  fear,  and  made  the  mind  fufceptible  of 
 habit,  and  ftamped  upon  it  the  idea  of  immortality. 
 For  none  but  He,  who  formed  the  mind^  and  perfcdly 
 knew  its  fprings,  could  addrefs  it  in  a  way  fo  proper 
 for  influencing  it,  and  for  bringing  it,  in  a  conliftcncy 
 with  its  nature  and  prefent  ftate,  to  the  Heady  love  and 
 practice  of  virtue. 
 
 We  have  likewife  in  Scripture.an  account  of  the  efta- 
 blifhment  of  the  Chriftian  religion,  and  the  firm  adhe- 
 rence of  its  firfl  profelTors  in  fpite  of  perfecution.  Ad- 
 drefles  from  the  firft  propagators  of  Chriltianity  to  theii? 
 ■profelytes,  explaining  more  fully  the  dodlrines  of  reli- 
 gion, folving  their  difficulties,  encouraging  them  to 
 conftancy,  and  giving  them  ufeful  directions  for  the 
 condud:  of  life.  And  predictions  of  the  future  ftate  oi* 
 the  church,  its  degeenracy  into  Popery,  and  the  con- 
 fummation  of  all  things. 
 
 Here  the  amazing  fcheme,  being  completed,  comes, 
 to  a  period.  The  Divine  Difpenfations  with  regard  ta 
 mankind,  in  their  prefent  ftate,  having  been  finiftiedin 
 theeftablifliment  of  the  Ghriftian  religion  in  the  world, 
 nothing  more  is  to  be  expected,  but  the  completion  of 
 the  predictions  yet  unfulfilled,  of  which  the  chief  are, 
 the  reftoration  of  the  Ifraelites  and  Jews  to  their  own 
 country^  with  the  converfion  of  the  world  in  general  to 
 the  Ghriftian  religion,  which  makes  way  for  the  laft  glo- 
 rious ages  ;  for  the  renovation  and  confummation  of  all 
 things ;  for  the  general  judgment  of  the  whole  human 
 race,  according  to  the  characters  they  have  fuftained  in 
 life,  the  condemnation  and  utter  deftrudtion  of  fuch  of 
 the  fpecies  as  Qiall  be  found  to  have  rendered  themfelves 
 unworthy  and  incapable  of  the  Divine  mercy,  and  the 
 eftabliftiment  of  the  pious  and  virtuous  in  an  everlafting 
 ftate  of  glory  and  happinefs,  in  order  to  their  improving' 
 and  riling  higher  and  higher  to  all  eternity. 
 
 Can  any  man,  who  only  runs  through  this  brief  and 
 imperfect  (ketch  of  the  whole  body  of  revelation,  bring 
 
 O  ^  ^  -      hinjfcif 
 
4^  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I^, 
 
 Thimfelf  to  believe,  that  fuch  afcheme  could  have  been  be- 
 gun with  the  beginning  of  the  world,  carried  on  throifgh 
 a  rucceffion  of  four  thoufand  years  by  the  inftrumentality 
 ef  a  number  of  different  perfons,  who  had  no  opportu- 
 nity of  co^icerting  meafures  together;  exhibiting  to  the 
 view  o^  mankind  all  that  is  great;,  important,  and  ufefui 
 to  be  known  and  pracLifed,  all  the  Divine  Difpenfations 
 with  refpp^  to  a  fpecies  of  rational  moral  agents^  the 
 fcope  and  purpoie  of  the  whole  being  wife,  good,  wor- 
 thy of  God,  and  fuirab-le  to  the  wants  of  men,  uniform 
 in  its  purpofe  throughout,  teaching  one  grand  and  ufe- 
 fui leffon  from  the  beginning  to  the  end,  agreeing  with 
 itfelf,  with  the  conftitution  and  courfe  of  nature,  the 
 ftrain  of  hiftory,  anti  the  natural  reafon  of  man,  in  which 
 there  appears  a  perfect  agreement  betwixt  types  and 
 antitypes,  doctrines  and  precepts,  predictions  and  com- 
 pletions, laws  and  faiidiions,  pretenlions  and  truth ; 
 and  the  whole  leading  directly  to  the  higheft  improve- 
 ment and  perfection  of  Human  Nature  ;  can  any  man 
 bring  himfelf  to  believe  fuch  an  univerfal,  all-compre- 
 henfive  fcheme  to  be  really  no  more  than  human  con- 
 trivance? But  of  this  more  hereafter, 
 
 SECT.     III. 
 
 t'ofijiderations  onfoihe  Particulars  in  Revealed  Religian, 
 
 THE  reader  may  remember,  that  I  put  off  the  fub- 
 ject  of  Providence,  though  commonly  reckoned  a 
 dodrine  of  Natural  Religion,  till  I  iliould  be  upon  Re- 
 velation, becaufe  it  is  from  thence  that  it  receives  its 
 principal  confirmation  and  eitablifhment. 
 
 The  opinion,  that  the  world,  and  all  things  animate 
 and  inanimate,  are  by  the  infinite  Author  of  all,  fup- 
 ported  in  their  exiftence,  and  conducted  in  all  the 
 changes  of  ftate,  which  they  undergo,  is  as  ancient  as 
 the  belief  of  the  Divine  exiftence. 
 
 As  to  the  natural  or  material  world,  it  is  certain, 
 from  reafon  and  experience,  that  the  inadivity  of  mat:- 
 tcr  is  infeparable  from  its  nature.  All  the  laws  of  na- 
 ture, as  deduced  from  experience  and  obfervation,  are 
 founded  upon  this  axiom,  That  matter  does  neceffarily 
 
 continue 
 
Revealed  Reltglon.)  HUMAN   NATURE.  4-- 
 
 cqntinue  in  that  flute,  in  whieh  it  is  at  prefent., 
 whether  of  reft  or  of  dired  motion,  till  it  be  put 
 out  of  that  ft  ate  by  fome  living  agent.  To  imagine 
 matter  capable  of  itfelf,  of  changing  its  (late  of  reft  into 
 that  of  motion,  or  of  motion  into  reft,  would  be  fuppo- 
 ling  it  fomcthlng  elfe  than  matter  ;  for  it  is  eftentlal  16 
 the  idea  of  jnatter,  that  it  renft  all  impreftions  made; 
 upon  it.  Unrefifting  matter  is  a  felf-contiadictory  idea, 
 as  much  as  noify  ftlence,  vicious  virtue,  or  the  like. 
 There  is  not  one  appearance,  or  effect,  in  the  natural 
 world,  that  could  have  been  brought  about  by  unrefift- 
 ing matter.  Upon  the  inertia  of  matter,  the  whole 
 fcourfe  of  nature  depends.  To  fay,  that  matter,  how- 
 ever modified,  is  capable  of  being  made  to  have  any 
 tendency  to  change  its  place  or  ft  ate,  would  be  afcrib- 
 ing  to  it  a  power  of  chooftng  and  refufmg.  For  before 
 it  can  of  itfelf  change  its  tlate  of  reft  for  motion,  or  of 
 motion  for  reft,  it  muft  choofe  for  itfelf.  If  a  particle 
 of  matter  is  to  move  itfelf,  which,  way  ftiall  it  move  ? 
 If  you  determine  eaftward,  wcftward,  fouthward,  or 
 northward ;  tlie  queftion  iniimediately  arifes,  why  ftibuld 
 it  move  eaftward  rather  than  weftvvard,  or  fouthward 
 rather  than  northward  :  To  afcribe  thought,  or  choice, 
 or  activity  of  any  kind,  to  matter,  however  modified, 
 is  afcribing  to  it  what  contradicts  its  very  nature  aijd 
 eflcnce.  For  its  nature  and  eftcnce  is  to  continue  for 
 ever  iri^Kftive.  So  that,  wherever  we  fee  a  portion  of 
 matter  in  motion,  it  is  certain,  that  it  is  moved  by  the 
 action  of  fome  living  agent.  Farther,  if  we  found  in 
 the  natural  world  no  motions  carried  on,  but  what  pro- 
 ceeded in  direcft  lines,  it  might  be  conceivable,  that  the 
 matter  of  the  univerfe  had  received  fuch  an  impulfe  at 
 the  beginning,  as  had  continued  its  motions  till  now. 
 For,  matter,  put  once  in  motion,  muft,  if  left  to  itfelf, 
 move  on  in  a  direct  courfe  to  eternity.  But  whoever 
 has  conftdered  the  natural  world,  will  reflect,  that  there 
 are  a  great  many  different  motions  continually  going 
 on  in  the  univerfe,  fome  of  which  are  directly  contrary 
 to  others.  That  the  forces,  with  which  bodies  tend  to 
 one  another,  and  with  which  fome  folid  fubilances  co- 
 here, are  immenUlv  great,  while  the  eafe,  with  which 
 
 Ct  g  4  the 
 
4^6  I'HE  DIGNITY  OP  (Boole  IV. 
 
 the  lightefl  bodies  pafs  through  the  fpace,  in  which  thofe 
 farces  prevail,  makes  it  inconceivable,  that  any  thing 
 material  is  the  caufe  of  thofe  ftrong  tendencies.     This 
 therefore  ohliges  us  to  have  recourfe  to  fom.ething  im- 
 material, as  the  caufe  of  the  endlefsly  various,  compli- 
 cated, and   contrary  tendencies,    which  we  fee  prevail 
 in  nature.     In  the  folar  fyftem,  fuppoling,  as  fome  have 
 fahcied,  a  fet  of  fubtle  particles  continually  flowing  in- 
 ward, toward  the  fun,  to  produce  the  effed:  of  gravita- 
 tion, there  muft  be  another  influx  of  the  fame  fort  of 
 particles  from  all  parts  toward  each  of  the  planets,  for 
 they  too  are  endowed   (to  ufe  the  common  exprellion) 
 witli^  the  power  of  attrad:ing  toward  themfelves  what- 
 ever is  within  the  fphere  of  their  attradion.     It  is  evi- 
 dent, that  the  courfe  of  the  particles,  which  caufe  gra- 
 vitation toward  the  fun,  mult  be  in  part  diredlly  con- 
 trary  to    that   which    caufes'the   gravitation   of   the 
 fatellites  of  a  planet  toward  it.     And  the   flireams  of- 
 particles  flowing  inward,  tovv^ard  each  of  the  fatelliteS' 
 of  a  planet,  mufl:  be  in  part  diredly  contrary  to  the 
 courfe  of  thofe  which  flow  toward  the  planet  itfelf. 
 The  planet  al-fo  continually  changing  place,  no  poflible 
 influx  of  particles  toward  it  can  produce  the  effedl  re- 
 quired, becaufe  that  direftion  of  fuch  influx,^  which 
 would  be  favourable  in  one  fltuation,  mull  of  courfe  be 
 quite  contrary  in  another.     And  upon  the  planet  itfelf, 
 if  there   are  any  animals  or  vegetables,   any  material 
 fubftances,   in  which  there  is  either  fecretion,  motion 
 of  fluids,  corruption,  decay,  or  renovation,  the  contra- 
 riety of  the  courfe  of  the  particles,  by  which  fuch  in- 
 ternal motions  are  carried  on,   mufl:  be  fuch  as  to  pro- 
 duce abfolute  confunon  ;    for  we  muft  at  laft  conceive 
 throughout  all  created  fpace,  an  infinite  number  of 
 ftreams  of  fmall  particles  flowing  in  all  diredions,  which 
 could,  by  the  very  fuppofition,  produce  no  regular  mo- 
 tion in  the  material  fyftem.     Befides,  we  know,  that 
 the  forces  of  attradtion  and  gravitation  are  not  as  the 
 furfaces  of  bodies  attrading  one  another  ,    but  as  the 
 number  of  particles  contained  in  them,  which  re^quires 
 a  power  that  (hall  freely  pervade  the  moft  folid  bodies, 
 not  merely  aftect  their  furfaces.     We  likewife  know, 
 
 that 
 
'kevealed  Religion.)       HUMAN  NATURE  457 
 
 that  elaftic  matter  tends  every  way,  or  endeavours  t6  ' 
 diffufe  itfelf  wider  and  wider,  and  to  repel  its  own  par- 
 ticles, and  every  furrounding  body.  This  power,  or 
 tendency  (to  ufe  the  common  improper  term)  is  by  no 
 means  confiftent  with  any  theory  of  ftreams  of  particles 
 flowing  any  one  way  ;  but  is  eafily  explicable  by  that  of 
 an  Infinite  Mind  within  all  matter. 
 
 There  is,  in  Ihort,  no  folution  of  the  various  and  oppofite 
 tendencies  of  the  parts  of  the  material  fyftem,  that  is  not 
 palpably  abfurd,  belides  having  recourfe  to  an  Infinite 
 Mind,  in  which  the  vifible  world  has  its  being,  and  by 
 which  it  not  only  was  at  firft  put  into  motion,  like  a 
 clock  wound  up  and  fet  a  going  ;  but  is  continually, 
 from  moment  to  moment,  adtuated  according  to  certain 
 fixed  rules  or  methods,  which  are  what  we  call  the  Laws 
 of  Nature. 
 
 If  therefore  we  find  it  neceflary,  on  account  of  the 
 neceflary  inadivity  of  matter,  which  has  nothing  in  its 
 nature  equal  to  the  complicated  motions,  which  we  fee 
 in  the  fyftem  of  the  world,  to  conclude,  that  the  Infinite  ' 
 Author  of  Nature  does  continually,  either  mediately  ot 
 immediately,  exert  his  indefatigable  power  in  conduct- 
 ing and  aduating  the  inanimate  machine;  we  cannot 
 fuppofe  lefs,  than  that  he  beftows  as  much  of  his  atten- 
 tion and  fuperintendency  upon  the  moral  fyftem,  as  upon 
 the  natural ;  for  the  latter,  having  been  produced  for' 
 the  fake  of  the  former,  Ihevvs  the  former  to  be  of  fupe- 
 rior  value. 
 
 The  fuperintendency  of  a  world  infinite  in  extent, 
 and  containing  an  infinite  number  of  particulars,  would 
 evidently  be  no  more  than  what  Infinite  Power  and 
 Omniprefence  would  be  fully  equal  to.  So  that  the 
 thought  of  any  fhadow  of  difficulty  in  governing  the 
 univerfe,  ought  never  to  enter  into  our  minds. 
 
 To  fuppofe  great  part  of  the  fcheme  of  Providence 
 carried  on  by  the  miniftration  of  angels,  or  other  created  ^ 
 beings,  comes  to  the  fame,   as  afcribing  all  to  the  im-  . 
 mediate  agency  of  the  Supreme.     For  every  created  be-^^ 
 ing  in  the  univerfe,   the  higheft  feraph,  as  well  as  the 
 meaneft  reptile,  derives  all  his  powers  from  the  Supreme, 
 and  depends  from  moment  to  moment,   upon  the  Uni- 
 
 verfal 
 
4i;$  •   THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV- 
 
 verfal  Author  of  exiftence,  for  his  being,  and  the  exer- 
 tion of  all  his  powers. 
 
 The  promitbuous  diftribution  of  happinefsand  mifery 
 in  this  life,  or  what  we  commonly  call  good  or  bad  for- 
 tune, is  no  fort  of  objedion  to  the  dodrine  of  a  Provi- 
 dence. The  continual  and  certain  confequences  of  vir- 
 tue and  vice  refpectively,  the  immediate  interpoiition  of 
 Heaven,  on  every  occafion,  would  have  been  wholly  in- 
 coniillent  with  a  ftate  of  difcipline.  And  yet  there  is 
 a  general  I'cheme  as  vifibly  carried  on  in  the  moral 
 world,  as  in  the  natural;  though  many  particulars  in 
 both  lie  out  of  the  reach  of  our  weak  faculties. 
 
 To  fay,  that  it  is  difparaging  the  Divine  Wifdom  to 
 allege  the  neceffity  or  propriety  of  a  continual  exertion 
 of  power  in  the  natural  world,  which  ought  rather  to 
 be  fuppofed  to  have  been  fo  conllituted  at  fir  ft  as  to 
 proceed  of  itfelf,  without  the  continued  application  of 
 the  Almighty  hand ;  this  objection,  duly  confidered_, 
 has  no  manner  of  weight.  For,  if  the  material  world 
 was  to  exift  at  all,  it  was  neceflary  it  fhouid  be  what  by 
 the  very  nature  of  matter  it  muft  be  ;  that  is,  inanimate 
 and  inadive.  And  if  fo,  it  muft  be  aduated,  or  be  mo- 
 tionlefs,  or  at  leaft  it  muft  have  no  complex  motions. 
 The  truth  is,  a  felf-moving  complicated  material  ma- 
 chine, is  a  contradidion  in  terms ;  and  therefore  wheit 
 could  not  poffibly  exift. 
 
 If  we  confider  that  the  Infinite  Mind  inhabits  all 
 created  and  uncreated  fpace,  we  (liall  think  it  as  proper 
 in  Him  to  aduate  continually  the  immenfe  machine  of 
 the  univerfe,  to  every  atom  of  which  he  is  immediately 
 prefent,  as  for  a  human  mind  to  aduate  the  body  it  in- 
 habits. And  no  one  in  his  fenfes  ever  thought  it  Vv'ould 
 have  been  better,  that  the  body  fliould  have  been  made 
 to  perform  its  fimdions  like  a  clock  once  wound  up, 
 than  that  it  fliould  be  continually,  from  moment  to  mo- 
 ment, at  the  command  of  the  mind,  to  aduate  it  at 
 pleafure. 
 
 In  the  fame  manner,  with  refped  to  the  moral  world, 
 it  is  not  leflening  the  wifdom  or  power  of  the  univerfal 
 moral  Governor,  to  fuppofe  interpofitions  neceflary. 
 There  are  various  conftderations  which  flievv  the  con- 
 trary. In 
 
RH'ealed  Religion. )     HUMAN  NATURE.  45^ 
 
 In  general,  that  of  the  pvefent  frail  and  pitiable  flate 
 of  Human  Nature;  the  circumftance  of  an  evil  being's 
 having  got  an  afcendancy  over  mankind  ;  of  the  firll  in- 
 trodudion  of  vice  being  through  temptation,  which 
 may  be  our  peculiar  misfortune ;  of  our  being  perhaps 
 one  of  the  lovvefl:  orders  of  moral  agents  ;  thefe  circum- 
 dances  may  render  it  proper,  that  we  at  leaji  fliould 
 have  fome  extraordinary  affillance  given  us,  that  there 
 fhould  be  fome  peculiar  interpofitions  in  our  favour. 
 Now,  to  fuppofe  a  pofitive  providential  ceconomy  and 
 fuperintendency  carried  on,  is  luppofing  the  eafiell  pofli- 
 ble  fcheme  for  gaining  fuch  ends  as  might  be  wanted 
 for  the  advantage  of  our  fpecies. 
 
 Communities  feem  to  require  a  providence,  to  reward 
 or  punifl.1  their  behaviour  in  their  national  and  public 
 charadfer,  as  on  occaiion  of  the  obfervance,  or  breach 
 of  laws  of  nations,  or  alliances.  The  rewards  and  pu- 
 nilhmentsof  the  future  (late  will  be  perfonal.  Good  men, 
 being  guilty  of  faults,  ought  to  fufFer  in  this  world, 
 though  they  come  to  final  happinefs  in  the  next ;  that 
 evil  may  not  wholly  elcape  :  which  feems  to  infer  the 
 propriety  of  a  Providence.  The  wonderful  difcovery  oif 
 the  perpetrators  of  horrid  crimes,  particularly  murdei:, 
 is  a  ilrong  prefuraption  of  the  truth  of  this  doctrine. 
 
 But  revelation  puts  this  matter  wholly  out  of  doubt; 
 as  it  every  where  goes  upon  the  fuppolition  of  a  conti.- 
 imal  Divine  fuperintendency  over  the  natural  and  moral 
 world.  For  it  reprefents  this  world  as  God's  world, 
 created,  preferved,  continually  condufted,  and  hereafter 
 to  be  judged  by  Him.  It  exhibits  a  fcherae  of  the  Divine 
 conduct  of  the  affairs  of  the  world  in  general,  and  of 
 one  nation  in  particular  *,  which  is  altogether  incon- 
 firtent,  without  taking  in  the  idea  of  a  Providence. 
 Prophecy,  and  miracles,  of  which  elfewhere,  necellarily 
 fuppofe  Divine  interpolition.  And  Holy  Scripture  in 
 a  variety  of  places  exprefsly  affirms  the  doctrine  of  Pro- 
 vidence.    For  it  informs  us,  ,  1 
 
 "  That  God  preferveth,  and  upholdeth  all  things  by 
 ^*  the  word  of  his  power ;  and  that  they  continue  to 
 
 this 
 
 ♦  See  psge  4.43, 
 
Ji^^o  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV, 
 
 **  this  day  according  to  his  ordinance.  That  he  has 
 *'  appointed  Teed  time  and  harveft,  cold  and  heat,  fum- 
 *'  mer  and  winter;  and  that  they  fliali  not  ceafe,  while 
 **  the  earth  remaineth.  That  with  him  is  the  fountain 
 *'  of  life.  That  he  preferves  man  and  bead,  and  gives 
 •*  food  to  all  fiefli.  That  in  his  hand  is  the  foul  of  every 
 **  living  thing,  and  the  breath  of  every  creature.  That 
 *'  in  him  we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being,  who 
 **  holds  our  fouls  in  life,  arid  will  be  our  guide  even  to 
 **  death.  That  he  preferves  us,  whilft  we  fleep,  and 
 '*  when  we  wake  ;  when  we  go  out,  and  when  we  come 
 *'  in,  even  from  the  womb,  making  us  to  dwell  in 
 **  fafety.  That  he  is  the  univerfal  King,  and  Judge  of 
 ■**  all,  and  does  according  to  his  will  in  the  armies  of 
 **  heaven,  and  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth. 
 *'  That  angels,  archangels,  principalities  and  powers, 
 *'  thrones  and  dominions,  are  fubjed:  to  Him,  and  that 
 *'  they  rejoice  to  do  his  commandments,  hearkening  to 
 *^*  his  word.  That  he  gives  fruitful  feafons  on  earth, 
 •*  and  crowns  the  year  with  his  goodnefs ;  and  again, 
 *'  at  his  pleafure,  fliuts  up  heaven,  that  there  be  no  rain, 
 -*'  and  that  the  land  yield  not  her  increafe ;  turning  a 
 ■*'  fruitful  land  into  barrennefs,  for  the  wickednefs  of 
 •'  them  that  dwell  therein.  That  the  Moft  High  rules 
 **  in  the  kingdom  of  men,  and  gives  it  to  whomfoever 
 "  he  will.  That  he  puts  down  one,  and  fets  another 
 **  up.  That  by  him  kings  reign,  and  princes  bear  rule. 
 •**  That  unlefs  he  keep  the  city,  the  watchmen  watch  in 
 *'  vain.  That  he  increafes  the  nations ;  and  again 
 *'  deftroys  them  ;  that  he  enlarges,  and  ftraitens  them 
 "at  his  pleafure.  That  whenever  he  fpeaks  concern- 
 ♦'  ing  a  nation,  to  build  and  to  plant,  or  to  pluck  up 
 "  and  deftroy  it,  his  counfel  fhall  (land,  and  he  will  do 
 *'  all  his  pleafure.  That  from  him  comes  every  good 
 *'  and  perfect  gift ;  and  at  the  fame  time,  there  is  no 
 **  (penal)  evil  in  the  world,  which  he  has  not  fent. 
 *'  That  he  kills,  and  makes  alive  ;  that  he  wounds,  and 
 *'  heals  ;  brings  down  to  the  grave,  and  brings  up 
 *'  again,  at  pleafure.  That  the  preparations  of  the 
 *'*  heart  and  the  anfwer  of  the  tongue,  are  from  God,  who 
 *•  gives  wifdom  to  the  wife,  and  knowledge  to  thofe  who 
 
 "  know 
 
Revealed  Religion.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  J^6^ 
 
 f-  know  underftanding  ;  and  when  it  feeras  good  to  him» 
 **  hides  the  thing  from  the  wile  and  prudent,  whicli  he 
 ^*  reveals  to  babes.  That  he  makes  poor,  and  makes  rich  ; 
 '"  brings  low,  and  lifts  up.  That  riches  and  honour  come 
 "  from  him.  That  the  race  is  not  to  the  Iwifr,  northebat- 
 ?*  tie  to  the  ftrong  *,  nor  bread  to  the  wife,  nor  favour  to 
 "  men  ot  ikill  ;  but  it  is  the  hand  of  God,  that  has 
 *'  wrought  all  thefe  things.  That  though  the  horfe  be 
 "  prepared  againft  the  day  of  battle,  fafety  is  from  God. 
 "  That  he  makes  wars  to  ceafe,  and  fends  the  fword 
 *•  among  the  nations,  at  his  pleafure.  That  the  wrath 
 ^*  of  man  fliall  be  made  to  work  out  his  praife,  and  the 
 "  remainder  fliall  be  reftrained.  That  when  the  lot  is 
 *'  cali,  the  difpofing  of  it  is  of  God.  That  he  works  all 
 *'  things  according  to  the  counfei  cf  his  own  will,  and 
 "  is  accountable  to  no  one  " 
 
 The  truth  of  the  dodrine  of  Providence  is  therefore 
 eflabliflied  upon  reafon  and  revelation. 
 
 To  proceed  to  another  fubjed: :  The  account  we  have 
 jn  Scripture  of  our  fpecies  in  general  fuffering  by  the 
 firft  offence  of  our  grand  parents,  may  feem  at  firft  view 
 fomewhat  difficult  to  underltand  ;  as  if  it  were  a  hard- 
 iliip  that  we  fliould  be  in  any  refpeft  lofers  by  what  we 
 are  innocent  of.  That  we  fhould  be  in  danger  of  being 
 condemned  to  any  future  or  final  punifliment  upon  any 
 account,  but  our  own  perfonal  voluntary  guilr,  is  con- 
 trary to  the  whole  tenor  of  Scripture,  and  would  indeed 
 render  revelation,  as  well  as  reafon,  wholly  uleiefs  for 
 directing  us  to  the  means  of  working  out  our  own  fal- 
 vation,  and  avoiding  deftrudion.  That  perfed  Juftice 
 fhould  determine  one  perfon  to  final  dellrocliun  for 
 what  was  done  by  another,  many  ages  before  his  birth, 
 at  once  overturns  all  our  notions  of  right  and  wrong. 
 And  if  we  cannot  judge  of  right  and  wrong,  we  cannot 
 be  expeded,  nor  fliould  ever  have  been  commanded,  to 
 forfake  the  error  of  our  v/ays.^  and  do  that  what  is  lawful 
 and  right.  So  that  this  opinion  grofsly  mifreprefenrs 
 the  charader  of  the  Judge  of  the  world,  and  fubverts 
 religion,  natural  and  revealed,  from  the  foundation. 
 But  that  the  natural,  as  well  as  judicial  effed  of  the  tirit 
 fiolation  of  Divine  Authority,  followed  by  innumerable 
 
 A  fucceeding 
 
462  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 facceeding  tranfgreffions,  might  be  the  finking  of  the 
 fpecies  fome  degrees  lower  ;  the  fubjecling  them,  and  the 
 world  they  inhabit,  to  viiiiDle  marks  of  Divine  difplea- 
 fure  ;  and  their  being,  upon  the  whole,  of  courfe,  in  a 
 fituation  lefs  promifing  for  univerfai  virtue  and  happi- 
 refs ;  may  be  reafonable  enough  to  fuppofe,  and  may- 
 be found  to  have  been  intended  for  valuable  moral  pur- 
 pofes.  For,  as  the  cafe  of  our  fpecies  is,  that  they  have 
 continued  difobedient  ever  fince  the  firft  offence,  it  is 
 but  reafonable,  that  they  be  expofed  to  fufferings  and 
 afflidions.  And  as  the  natural  tendency  of  afflidlion  is 
 reformation,  and  every  inftance  of  our  vvorld^s  being  in 
 a  ruined  ftat€,  and  under  a  curfe,  ought  to  furnifli  a  me- 
 morial of  the  great  evil  of  vice  ;  on  thefe  confiderations, 
 the  pi-efent  ftate  of  the  world  is  evidently  an  effect  of 
 the  Divine  goodnefs;  as  well  as  feverity.  If  man  is 
 Itink  below  the  ftation,  in  which  the  fpecies  were  firft 
 placed,  he  has  no  room  for  complaint :  for  he  might 
 have  been  placed  there  at  his  creation.  If  our  condi- 
 tion feems  lefs  promifing  for  virtue  and  happinefs,  than 
 that  in  which  the  firft  of  the  fpecies  were  at  their  crea- 
 tion placed  ;  it  is  on  the  other  hand  to  be  remembered, 
 that  revelation  fliews,  very  great  things  have  been  done 
 for  us,  more  than  fufficient  to  make  up  for  w'hat  feem- 
 ing  difadvantages  we  may  labour  under.  And  thus  all 
 ground  of  complaint  is  eflfedually  precluded. 
 
 The  Scripture  account  of  the  deltruction  of  mankind 
 by  a  general  deluge,  is  a  fubjecl  which  deferves  to  be 
 briefly  coniidered. 
 
 Though  it  is  not  to  be  pofitively  affirmed,  that  this, 
 or  the  other,  was  the  true  caufe  of  a  particular  fuperna- 
 tural  phecnomenon,  or  the  method  in  which  it  was 
 brought  about ;  we  may  yet  conclude  in  general,  that 
 it  is  more  fuitable  to  the  ways  of  God,  to  bring  about 
 all  effeds,  as  well  natural,  as  thofe  we  call  fuperna- 
 tural,  or  miraculous,  by  certain  adequate  means,  and, 
 as  far  as  poffible,  confiftently  with  the  ftated  laws  and 
 courfe  of  nature.  That  a  mighty  wind  ftiould,  accord- 
 ing to  the  Scripture  account,  feparate  the  Red-jea  for 
 the  paffage  of  the  people  of  Ifrael,  was  as  proper  a  mi- 
 racle wrought  in  their  favour,  as  if  the  immediate  word 
 
Revealed Rellgkn.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  463 
 
 or  will  of  God  had  done  it.  And  if  the  general  deluge 
 was  brought  on  by  fome  pre-eftablifhed  natural  means, 
 it  was  no  lefs  a  Divine  judgment  upon  a  race  of  crea- 
 tures, whofe  wickednefs  was  forefeen,  than  if  it  had 
 been  caufed  by  the  immediate  exertion  of  Omnipotence. 
 What  conftitutes  a  particular  wonderful  event  a  proper 
 miracle,  in  a  theological  fenfe,  is,  its  being  exprefsly 
 appealed  to  by  fome  perfon,  as  a  confirmation  of  a  new 
 pretended  dodrine  or  miffion  from  heaven.  The  gene- 
 ral deluge  was  accordingly  foretold,  and  the  people  of 
 thofe  ancient  times  forwarned  of  it  by  Noah,  but  in 
 V: vin.  Should  a  perfon,  pretending  to  a  Divine  million, 
 ■foretel  an  earthquake  fome  months  or  years  before, 
 and  an  earthquake  fliould  happen  exadily  at  the  threa- 
 tened time,  all  reafonable  men  would  yield  that  mea- 
 i  fure  of  aflent  to  his  aflertions  and  pretenfions,  which 
 rnight  be  thought  juftly  due  to  the  authority  of  one  fm- 
 gle  miracle,  taken  in  conjunction  with  tlie  other  cir- 
 cumftancesof  his  own  character,  and  that  of  his  doctrine. 
 Yet  earthquakes  are  effeds  of  natural  caufes,  And  if 
 any  perfon  thinks  it  difparages  the  miracle  of  the  11  ■od 
 to  fay,  that  it  was  brought  about  by  the  inltrumen- 
 tality  of  an  intervening  caufe,  the  objedtion  is  the  fame, 
 taking  it  for  an  immediate  efFed  of  Divine  Power.  For 
 the  end  being  the  deltruflion  of  a  race  of  degenerate 
 mortals,  it  may  as  well  be  faid.  Why  were  they  not  all 
 ftruck  dead  in  a  moment  by  a  word  from  the  mouth  of 
 God,  without  the  inftrumentality  of  the  fuffocating 
 element  of  water  ?  as,  Why  was  the  flood  brought  on 
 by  means  of  any  intervening  caufe  ?  No  one  doubts, 
 whether  the  old  world  was  deftroyed  by  God,  as  an 
 exemplary  punifhment  for  their  wickednefs.  Why 
 Ihould  any  one  think  it  lefs  a  Divine  judgment,  for  its 
 being  brought  about  in  a  confiftency  with  the  regular 
 and  uniform  procedure  of  nature,  than  if  it  had  been  an 
 efFe6t  quire  detached  from,  and  unconnededM-ith  the  uni- 
 verfal  fcheme  ;  which  is  not  fo  beautiful,  lb  mafterly, 
 nor  fo  worthy  of  an  univerfal  Governor. 
 .'  Since  the  decifion  of  the  queltion  of  the  caufe  of  the 
 tides,  which  puzzled- all  antiquity,  and  has  been  fhewn 
 by  our  incomparable  philofopher  to  be  the  eifed  ot  the 
 
 2  mutual 
 
4^4  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 mutual  gravitation  of  the  earth  and  moon  ;  it  is  very 
 eafilj  conceivable^  that  a  nearer  approach  of  the  moon 
 toward  our  earthy  by  a  third  part  of  her  whole  diftance, 
 would  caufe  an  enormouily  high  tide.  If  therefore  we 
 fuppofe  the  moon,  or  any  other  celeftial  body,  to  aj>- 
 proach  very  near  to  the  earth,  the  effed:  muft  be  fuch 
 a  tide,  as  would  rife  higher  than  the  higheft  lands,  and, 
 rolling  round  the  globe,  would  wafli  down  all  terreftrial 
 creatures  into  the  deep,  where  they  muft  perilh.  As 
 we  know  that  comets,  from  time  to  time,  come  from  all 
 parts  of  the  heavens,  and  enter  into  the  planetary  re-» 
 gions  ;  it  is  no  unnatural  fappofition,  to  imagine  that  ^ 
 comet,  palling  near  the  earth  at  the  time  of  the  deluge, 
 might  have  been  the  appointed  inftrument  of  the  Di- 
 vine vengeance,  by  producing,  by  means  of  attraction, 
 a  difrupticn  of  the  outward  fhell  of  this  earth,  under 
 which  it  is  probable  d  great  colledion  of  waters  was 
 lodged ;  which  being  by  attraction  raifed  into  an  ex- 
 ceffive  tide,  muft  occafion  the  immerfion  and  deftrudlion 
 of  all  land  animals.  And  which  might  in  great  part 
 be  afterwards  abforbed  into  vaft  empty  caverns  in  the 
 earth,  which  might  by  the  fame  means  be  opened  for 
 its  reception,  and  thus  the  prefent  dry  land  left.  The 
 Scripture  account,  of  the  "  breaking  up  of  the  foun- 
 *'  tains  of  the  great  deep,'*  feems  to  countenance  this 
 notion  ;  which  whoever  would  examine  thoroughly, 
 may  read  JVhiJlon^s  Theory  of  the  Earth.  That  it  is 
 made  very  probable  in  that  work,  that  a  comet  did  pafs 
 near  the  annual  path  of  the  earth,  about  the  time  of  the 
 general  deluge,  is  acknowledged  by  the  moft  judicious 
 aftronomers.  That,  upon  every  theory,  the  account  of 
 the  flood  is  attended  with  difficulties,  muft  likewife  be 
 confeffed.  But  I  think  it  a  fatisfadion,  that  upon  the 
 fuppofition  of  its  being  brought  about  by  a  comet,  the 
 poffibility  of  it  is  fairly  made  out,  and  even  a  fort  of 
 analogy  to  the  common  courfe  of  nature,  in  the  tides, 
 which  at  times  rife  to  fuch  heights  as  to  produce  partial 
 deluges. 
 
 However  the  flood  was  brought  about,  there  are  too 
 many  vilible  and  unqueftionabie  marks  of  a  general 
 difrupticn  of  theoutlide  of  this  ourplanet,  in  the  hideous 
 
 mountains, 
 
RevealcS Religion.)       HUMAN  NATURE.  4/1^ 
 
 mountains,  mifhapen  rocks,  hollow  vales,  and  other 
 ruinous  appearances,  with  quantities  of  fea-(hells,  bones 
 of  animals,  and  large  trees,  found  at  a  great  depth  in 
 the  earth  ;  there  are,  I  fav,  too  many  marks  of  a  gene- 
 ral concuffion  and  ruin  over  the  whole  face  of  the  earth 
 t©  leave  any  room  to  doubt  that  it  has  undergone  fome 
 very  great  and  univerfal  change  ;  which  we  have  all 
 the  reafon  in  the  world  to  conclude,  was  no  other  than 
 that  of  the  general  deluge,  which,  as  it  is  defcribed  in 
 Scripture,  feems  fit  to  have  produced  exactly  the  effeds 
 we  obferve. 
 
 It  is  true,  that  telefcopes  difcover,  on  the  face  of  the 
 moon,  and  the  planet  Venus,  irregularities  and  rough- 
 hefles,  which  make  an  appearance  ibmewhat  like  to 
 thofe,  which  we  may  fuppofe  might  be  obferved  from 
 the  moon  upon  the  face  of  our  earrh.  But  Vv'e  cannot 
 be  certain,  that  thofe  inequalities  have  not  been  part  of 
 the  original  make  of  thofe  bodies  ;  unlefs  ^ve  could 
 examine  them,  as  we  can  thofe  of  our  own  planet.  So 
 that  what  we  obferve  of  this  fort  upon  thofe  bodies,  does 
 in  no  degree  affect  what  has  been  faid  with  refpccl;  to 
 the  probability  that  a  general  deluge  was  the  caufe  of 
 the  vifibly  ruinous  itate  of  our  earth  ;  for  we  cannot  be 
 iure,  that  the  inequalities  on  the  face  of  the  Moon  and 
 Venux  are  of  the  fame  ruinous  kind  with  thofe  of  our 
 world.  The  Moon,  efpecially,  differs  from  our  planet 
 in  two  effential  particulars.  For  it  is  certain  beyond 
 all  doubt,  that  fhe  has  neither  fea,  at  lead  on  the  face 
 which  is  always  towards  us,  nor  atmofphere  of  air.  So 
 that  we  cannot  reafon  on  any  minute  circumftances 
 from  one  to  the  other  ;  but  may  judge  of  what  we  find 
 in  our  own  world,  the  (tate  of  which  feems  perfectly  to 
 anfwer  to  what  might  have  been  expected  to  be  pro- 
 duced by  fuch  a  deluge  as  ilfo/^j- defcribes. 
 
 One  particular,  with  regard  to  the  flood,  is  too  re- 
 markable to  be  omitted.  We  have  in  the  book  ofGeneJis 
 an  exad  account  of  the  meafures  of  the  ark  in  cubits. 
 In  the  time  of  Mofes,  it  is  not  to  be  fuppofed,  that  the 
 world  was  fo  well  known,  or  natural  hiftory  carried 
 fuch  a  length,  that  the  variety  of  different  fpecies  of 
 terreftrial  animals  ffiould  be  gueffed  at  to  any  nearnefs. 
 
 H  h  So 
 
466  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 So  that  it  was  to  be  expetled,  the  meafures  of  the  ark 
 fhould  be  taken  either  too  fmall  or  too  large,  if  the  cal- 
 culation of  the  room  neceffary  for  lodging  feven  of  every 
 clean  fpecies,  and  two  of  every  one  of  the  others,  had 
 been  taken  according  to  mere  human  knowledge,  or 
 conjedure.  Inftead  of  which,  it  is  found  by  calcula- 
 tions made  in  our  times,  when  it  is^  by  means  of  our  ex- 
 tenfive  commerce  over  the  world,  known,  how  many 
 different  fpecies  of  terreftrial  animals  there  are  in  all 
 different  climes  and  countries  ;  that  the  meafures  we 
 have  of  the  ark  would  have  afforded  juft  fufficient  room 
 for  all  the  creatures  to  be  ftovved  in  it,  and  one  year's 
 provifion.  No  human  fagacity  could,  in  thofe  early 
 times,  in  which  there  was  fo  little  intercourfe  among 
 the  inhabitants  of  different  countries,,  have  gueffed  at 
 the  true  number  of  different  fpecies  of  land  animals  in 
 all  the  various  climates  of  the  world,  every  one  of  which 
 almoft  has  its  peculiar  fet.  It  is  therefore  evident,  that 
 the  lize  and  capacity  of  the  ark  was  ordered  by  Divine 
 appointment.  For  a  human  architect  would  undoubt- 
 edly have  given  its  meafures  too  large  or  too  fmall. 
 
 There  being  fomewhat  feemingly  difficult  in  the 
 Scripture  account  of  thofe  degenerate  beings,  the  fallen 
 angels,  it  may  be  proper  to  throw  together  a  few  thoughts 
 on  that  head. 
 
 Whether  the  angelic  fpecies  were,  at  the  time  of 
 their  fall,  in  a  firft  ftage  of  trial,  fuch  as  that  in  which 
 we  are  at  prefent,  or  whether  they  had  gone  through 
 their  firft  ftate  of  difcipline,  and  deviated  afterwards,  as 
 it  feems  inconfiftent  with  the  nature  of  finite  moral 
 agents  to  fuppofe  them  in  any  ftate  out  of  all  danger, 
 or  pollibility  of  deviation  ;  whatever  particular  ftate,  I 
 fay,  they  were  at  that  time  in,  the  poffibility  of  their 
 degenerating  into  difobedience  may  be  accounted  for 
 in  a  way  comprehenfible  by  us ;  though  we  cannot  be 
 fure,  that  v.^e  have  the  true  and  full  account  of  that 
 whole  matter.  The  moft  probable  account  of  the 
 tranfgreilion  and  degeneracy  of  thofe  once  illuftrious 
 beings,  may  be,  That  they  difallowed  of  the  juft  pre- 
 tentions of  the  MeJJiah  to  be  the  general  Governor  of 
 their  whole  order  ^  as  the  perverfe  Jews  afterwards  re- 
 
 jeded 
 
Revealed  Religioti.)    HUMAN  NATURE*  i.C'j 
 
 jeded  him,  when  he  came   in   the   iliefh.     To  fuppofe 
 that  the  angels,  now  fallen,   were  capable  of  refolutely 
 and  deliberately  oppoliiig  themfcives  to  Omnipotence, 
 or  railing  rebellion  againlt  God,,  as  God^  is  ablurd.  But 
 it  is  no  way  inconceivable,    that  they  might  at  firft 
 quefhion  the  i\Ie{fiah''s  pretenfions  to  authority  cverthem;; 
 which  might,   for  any  thing  we  know,    be   difpuiabie, 
 as  his  miffion   appeared  to   fom.e  even  of  the  iincere, 
 though  not  fufiiciently  conliderate,  Jc'ws,     In  confe- 
 quence  of  this,  we  can  eafily  enough  conceive  the  polli- 
 bility  of  their  being  milled,  by  pride,  by  example,  and 
 perfuafion  of  Satan^   the  leader  of  the  adverfe  party, 
 who  probably  himfelf  had  alpired  to  a  fuperiority  over 
 his  fellow-beings,  and  could  not  brook  a  rival.     As  to 
 the  difficulty  of  fuppofing  a  fet  of  beings,  of  fuch  fupe- 
 rior  wifdom   as  we  commonly   fuppofe  they   poiTefledj 
 capable  of  error  ;  Scripture  itfelfexprefsly  affirms,  that 
 the  angels  are  chargeable  with  folly.     Befides,  we  pro- 
 nounce rafhly,   when  we   pretend   to   aik^rt,   that    the 
 angels  were  at  the  time  of  their  fall  greatly  fuperior  to 
 the  moll  knowing  of  our  fpecies.     We  find  indeed  thofe 
 who  kept  their  integrity,  fpoke  of  in  Scripture  as  railed 
 to   very  high  degrees  of  elevation.     But  nothing  can 
 from  thence  be  argued  with  refpeft  to  thofe  who  fell 
 many  ages  before,  when  perhaps  they  might  not  be  rifea 
 to  any  fuch  degree  of  perfection  as  the  good  part  of  that 
 fpecies  now  enjoy,   which  may  be  the  reward  of  their 
 virtue  and  fidelity.     Befides,  fuppofing  thofe  beings  to 
 have  fallen  from  a  ftate  of  happinefs,   to  which  they 
 ,were  railed  in  confequence  of  their  having- with  fuccefs 
 paft  through  one  fi;age  of  trial  or  difcipline,   we  know- 
 not   whether  one  ilage   of  difcipline  was   aij  that  v/as 
 allotted  them.     We  know  not  but  they  were  to  pafs 
 through  two,  or  more,  as  one  properly  fpeaking  feems 
 appointed  for  us,  though,  as  obferved  before,  no  fl;ate  of 
 freedom   can  be  wholly   fecure  from  all  poffibility  of 
 deviation,  but  only  more  and  more  fo,  according  to  the 
 increafing  experience,  longer  habitude,  and  greater  wif- 
 dom of  moral  agents.     We  know  not,   but  the  angelic 
 fpecies  were  railed  to  the  happinefs,    from  which  they 
 fell,  in  confequence  of  their  going  through   a  more 
 H  h  2  advantageous 
 
Afi%-  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 advantageous  and  eafy  firft  ftage  of  probation,  than 
 what  is  appointed  us ;  and  that,  to  balance  that  advan- 
 tage, the  happinefs  they  were  railed  to  was  more  preca- 
 rious thini  that  which  is  deilined  for  thofe  of  our  fpecies, 
 ^vho  iliall  acquit  themfelves  with  honour  of  a  more  dif- 
 iicuit  one.  This  feeras  no  more  than  equitable,  and 
 natural,  that  the  confequence  of  an  eafier  ilate  of  trial 
 paiTed  through  with  fuccefs  fliould  be  a  lower  degree, 
 ajid  more  precarious  kind,  of  happinefs;  and  of  a  more 
 difficult  one,  a  higher  and  more  certain  kind  of  happi- 
 nefs. And  befides,  it  is-  very  probably  the  nature  o5" 
 all  moral  agents  to  yalue  moft,  and  be  moil  afraid  of 
 lofing,.  what  has  eoil  them  the  greatell  pains  to  attain, 
 and  what  only  a  few  have  attained.  However  it  be, 
 there  is  plainly  no  abfurdity  in  the  Scripture  account 
 of  the  fall  of  a  certain  number  of  beings,  of  a  rank 
 prior  in  exiftence,  and  fuperior  in  dignity,  to  ours  ;  nor 
 of  their  being  driven,  by  a  total  defpair  of  recovery  to 
 the  Divine  favour,,  to  a  confirmed  habit  of  perfeverance 
 in  vice,,  aad  oppofition  to  all  good  j  which,  increafing^ 
 muft  increafe  their  punilhment,  and  multiply  their  dam- 
 nation. That  thofe  defperate  beings,  who  know  them- 
 felves to  be  fealed  to  deftruclion,  fliould,  as  far  as  per- 
 mitted, exercife  an  iraplacable  envy  and  hatred  againil 
 our  fpecies,  of  whom  they  for  fee  that  fbme  part  will 
 rife  to  that  happinefs,  from  which  they  are  irrecovera- 
 bly fallen,  is  not  to  be  wondered  at.  A  Nero,  a  Duke 
 d'' AlvLi,  a  bloody  father  inquilitor*;  are  not  thefe  de- 
 mons ?  If  we  have  fuch  diabolical  beings  in  our  own 
 fpecies,  who  have  had  fo  fliort  a  time  to  improve  in 
 "wickednefs,  and  are  flill  under  a  difpenfation  of  hea- 
 venly grace  ;  why  fliould  we  wonder  at  any  accounts 
 we  have  in  Scripture  of  the  confirmed  wickednefs  of 
 ipirits  abandoned  to  defpair,  and  who  have  had  many 
 thoufands  of  years  to  improve  and  harden  themfelves  in 
 vice  ? 
 
 Some  have  made  a  difficulty  of  the  incarnation  oiChriJl ; 
 as  if  there  were  in  that  doclrine  fomewhat  peculiarly 
 hard  to  admit,  or  next  to  abiurd.  But  in  fuch  cafes, 
 where  nothing  is  required  to  be  granted,   but  what   is 
 
 analogous 
 
 *  See  Page  257, 
 
-Revealtd Religion.)     HUMAN  NATURE.  469 
 
 analogous  to  the  courfe  of  nature  ;  it  does  not  feem  rea- 
 fonable  to  kefitate  at  any  foppGled  dilTiculty,  which,  it 
 removed,  would  leave  another  confeffedly  as  hard  to 
 furaiount.  How  a  fpiritual  being,  of  any  rank  v»'hat- 
 eveV,  comes  to  be  immured  in  a  material  vehicle,  is  to 
 us  wholly  inconceivable.  The  incarnation  of  a  human 
 foul  is  a  myftery  utterly  inexplicable  by  human  laga- 
 city.  Nor  is  it  at  all  more  incomprehenfible,  how  an 
 .angel,  or  archangel,  (hould  animate  a  body,  than  how 
 a  human  mind  fhould.  The  difficulty  does  not  arife 
 from  the  rank,  or  dignity,  of  the  fpiritual  being;  but 
 from  the  nature  of  fpirits  in  general ;  whofe  power  of 
 animating  and  actuating  a  materia-1  vehicle,  and  th-e 
 nexus,  which  forms  the  union  between  two  natures  fo 
 different,  are  to  us  wholly  inconceivable. 
 
 And  as  to  the  objeclion.  Of  its  being  improbable, 
 that  a  being  of  fuch  dignity,  as  that  of  the  Melfiah, 
 fhould  condefcend  to  aifume,  for  a  time,  the  lowed  ila- 
 tion  of  rational  nature  ;  it  will  prefently  vanifn,  on  con- 
 fidering  the  importance  of  the  purpofe,  for  which  he  did 
 fo.  For  if,  in  confequence  of  this  ama2,ing  condefcen- 
 fion,  there  fliould,  in  a  confiftence  with  the  Divine  recli- 
 tude,  and  eftabliQied  order  of  the  moral  world,  and  the 
 freedom  of  the  creature,  many  thoufands,  perhaps  rail- 
 lions,  of  our  fpecies,  be  raifeJ  hereafter  by  degrees  to 
 fuch  greatnefs  and  goodnefs,  that  the  prefent  ftation  ef 
 the  archangel  Gabriel  will  be  regarded  by  them  as  an 
 inferior  one  (which  will  certainly  one  day  be  the  cafe) 
 who  can  think  any  apparatus,  to  gain  fuch  an  end,  too 
 coftly,  or  operoie  ?  Whoever  duly  copliders  the  ftu- 
 pendous  excellence  of  a  nature,  which,  however  mean 
 and  low  at  prefent,  is  yet  formed  capable  of  an  endlefs 
 progreilion  in  every  noble  quality  ;  will  not  think  any 
 contrivance  ill  beflowed,  or  any  condefcenlion  too  low, 
 to  gain  the  moral  improvement  of  fuch  a  fpecies.  Add, 
 that  condefcenlion  on  a  proper  occafion,  and  for  fome 
 important  end,  is  fuitable  to  a  fuperior  nature  ;  and  pe- 
 culiarly agreeable  to  every  great  mind.  And  let  the 
 ponfideration  of  the  high  exaltations  of  the  MeJJlab,  in 
 confequence  of  his  gracious  interpolition  for  the  re- 
 covery of  a  ruined  foecies,  be  taken  in.  Add  likewife 
 -'■•^'''^^-  "      Hh3  the 
 
470  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 the  Divine  pleafiire  of  exerting  a  benevolence  fo  exten- 
 iive,  that  an  eternity  will  be  employed  by  a  race  of  be- 
 iligs,  delivered  by  it  from  utter  dellrudion,  in  celebrat- 
 ing its  praifes,  and  exprelling  that  gratitude,  which 
 every  fuceeeding  period  of  thtir  happy  exigence  will 
 heighten,  every  new  enjoyment  will  inflame  with  ever- 
 growing raptures. 
 
 To  pretend  to  difpute  whether  it  was  poffible  for 
 mankind  to  be  reftored  by  any  other  means  than  thofe 
 which  Infinite  Wiidom  has  chofen,  is  both  prcfump- 
 tuous  and  ufelefs.  It  is  our  wifdom  to  coniider  what 
 we  have  to  do,  as  the  moral  conllitution  of  things  is  ; 
 not  to  amufe  ourfelves  with  vain  fpeculations  upon  what 
 could  do  us  no  fervice  to  know,  and  what  it  is  irapof- 
 lible  we  fhould  by  our  own  fagacity  ever  difcover.  In 
 general,  it  is  evident,  that  the  repentance  and  refor- 
 mation of  offenders  was  not  of  itfeU,  without  fome  ad- 
 ditional apparatus,  fuflicient,  conliftcntly  with  the  Di- 
 vine fcheme,  to  reftore  a  guilty  order  of  beings  to  a  ca- 
 pacity of  being  received  to  pardon.  For  Divine  wif- 
 dom never  ufes  a  more  operofe  method  of  proceeding, 
 when  one  lefs  fo  will  anfwer  the  end. 
 
 Whether  we  lliall  at  all,  in  the  prefent  {late,  be  able  to 
 determine  wherein  the  principal  propriety  or  neceflity  of 
 the  death  of  CZ?;-f//confifted,  and  how  it  came  to  be  effica- 
 cious for  our  reftoration  to  the  Divine  favour,  is  greatly 
 to  be  queftioned ;  as  Scripture  has  only  declared  to  us 
 the  fad:,  that  it  is  chiefly  by  his  laying  down  his  life 
 tor  mankind,  which  was  the  great  end  of  his  coming 
 into  the  world,  that  we  are  to  be  received  to  pardon  and 
 mercy;  but  has  given  us  no  precife  account  of  the  modus 
 of  the  operation  of  his  death  for  that  purpofe,  nor  how 
 the  ends  of  the  Divine  government  were  anfvvered  by 
 it.  In  general,  may  it  be  faid,  That  the  confideration 
 of  fo  important  a  fcheme  found  necelTary  for  reftoring 
 an  offending  order  of  beings,  is  likely  to  ftrike  all  ra- 
 tional minds,  who  may  ever  come  to  the  knowledge  of 
 it,  with  a  very  awful  fenfe  of  the  fatal  evil  of  vice, 
 which  made  it  neceflary.  And  as  they  mufl:  fee  the 
 difl[icalty  of  finding  fuch  a  mediator  for  themfelves,  in 
 cafe  of  their  offending,  they  may  thereby  be  the  more 
 
 eflfedually 
 
Riveakd Religion.)      HUMAN  NATURE.  47-r 
 
 efFedually  deterred  from  difobedience.  It  may  imprefs 
 them  with  high  notions  of  the  Divine  purity,  and  aver- 
 lion  to  evil,  vi^hich  made  the  reftoration  of  offenders  a 
 work  fo  difficult  and  expenfive.  And  we  know  not  how 
 wide  each  particular  in  the  moral  fcheme  of  the  Divine 
 government  may  extend.  We  are  told  in  Scripture, 
 that  the  angels  delire  to  look  into  the  myftery  of  our 
 falvation  :  That  fonie  of  them  have  adually  fallen  from 
 their  obedience  is  doubted  by  none  who  admit  revela- 
 tion :  That  there  is  any  ftate  of  finite  virtue  and  hap- 
 pinefs  fo  fecure,  as  that  it  is  impoflibleto  fall  from  it; 
 or  that  created  beings  can,  conlillently  with  freedom, 
 be  raifed  to  any  fuch  ftate  as  to  defy  Vv^eaknefs  and  er- 
 ror, and  to  be  above  all  advantage  from  inftrudlion  by 
 precept  or  example,  is  by  no  means  to  be  affirmed. 
 And  if  there  be  no  reafon  to  doubt,  but  in  ail  ftates  free 
 agents  are  fallible  (though  more  and  more  fecure  of 
 continuing  in  their  obedience,  as  more  perfed)  fince 
 according  to  Scripture  even  the  angels  are  chargeable 
 with  folly  ;  it  may  then  be  put  as  a  conjedure,  whether 
 the  fcheme  of  the  reftoration  of  mankind  may  not  have 
 immenfely  extenfive  and  valuable  effeds  upon  various 
 orders  of  moral  agents  throughout  the  univerfe  for  pre- 
 ferving  them  in  their  obedience.  This  effed:  the  con- 
 fideration  of  it  ought  to  have  efpecially,  above  all,  on  us, 
 who  are  molt  nearly  interefted  in  it ;  and  we  ought  not 
 to  hope  to  efcape,  if  we  negledl  fo  great  falvation  ;  and 
 ought  therefore,  if  we  name  the  name  of  Chrijiy  to  re- 
 folve  to  depart  from  iniquity.  It  is  alfo  to  be  expeded, 
 that  the  confideration  of  what  our  everlafting  happinefs 
 coft,  fhould  immenfely  enhance  the  value  of  it  to 
 thofe  of  our  fpecies  who  (hall  hereafter  be  found  fit  for 
 it ;  efpecially  with  the  additional  confideration  of  the 
 hideous  ruin  v»'e  fiiall  have  efcaped,  which  is  fuch  as  to 
 render  it  neceffary  for  the  Son  of  God  to  leave  for  a 
 feafon  his  eternal  glory,  to  defcend  to  our  lower 
 world,  and  give  himfelf  to  death,  to  deliver  as  many 
 of  us  as  would  from  it.  That  our  Saviour  died  a 
 witnefs  to  the  truth  of  his  own  miffion  and  doc- 
 trine, as  well  as  a  facrifice  for  the  fins  of  mankind,  is 
 certain.  But  it  is  evident,  that  his  death  was  very  dif- 
 H  h  4  ferent 
 
472  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 ferent,  both  in  intention  and  confequences,  from  thofe 
 of  the  martyrs.  That  his  death  was  alfo  a  glorious  in- 
 ftance  of  obedience,  and  a  noble  example  for  our  imi- 
 tation, and  that  of  all  rational  agents,  is  alfo  to  be  taken 
 in,  and  heightens  the  grandeur  of  the  fcheme.  A  con- 
 lequence  from  the  obedience  and  death  of  Cbriji^  men- 
 tioned in  Scripture,  and  hinted  above,  is  his  being 
 *'  highly  exalted,  and  receiving  a  name  above  every 
 "  name  in  heaven  and  earth,  to  the  glory  of  God  the 
 *'  Father."  Of  which  likewife  we  can  fee  the  propriety 
 and  juftice.  And  Scripture  alfo  countenances  the  opi- 
 nion, That  the  high  exaltation  of  fuch  a  number  of 
 mankind,  as  (ball  be  found  capable  of  it,  is  given  him 
 as  a  reward  for  his  fuiferings. 
 
 However,  none  of  thefe  confiderations,  nor  all  of 
 them  together,  come  up  to  the  point  in  queftion,  viz. 
 What  connection  in  the  nature  of  things  there  is  be- 
 tween the  death  of  Chrijl  and  the  falvation  of  mankind. 
 This  will  probably  be  a  defideratum  as  long  as  the  pre- 
 fent  ftate  lafts. 
 
 To  expeft  that  we  fliould  be  informed  of  the  Divine 
 CEconomy  with  the  fame  diftinclnefs  as  of  our  own  duty, 
 would  be  a  piece  of  arrogance  above  ordinary.  It  is 
 by  experience  we  are  inRrudled  in  temporals,  as  well 
 as  fpirituals ;  and  we  proceed  according  to  it,  and  are 
 fuccefsful  in  the  affairs  of  life,  while  we  know  little  or 
 nothing  of  the  means  by  which  the  Divine  Wifdom  ads 
 in  the  natural  world,  and  ought  in  all  reafon  to  expeft 
 to  know  ftill  lefs  of  his  fcheme  in  a  fupernatural  inter- 
 pofition ;  as  the  plan  of  our  redemption  may  be  called. 
 Did  we  know,  which  probably  it  is  not  proper  we 
 fliould,  more  of  the  foundations  and  connedions  of  the 
 various  parts  of  that  fubiime  fcheme,  we  fliould  then 
 know  nothing  ufeful  to  us  but  our  duty.  That  we 
 know  now  ;  and  with  fuch  clearnefs,  as  will  render  us 
 wholly  inexcufable,  if  we  be  pot  found  in  the  full  and 
 faithful  performance  of  it. 
 
 The  doclrine  of  the  future  refurredion  of  the  body 
 may,  as  properly  as  any  one,  be  faid  to  be  peculiar  to 
 revelation.  For  there  is  no  reafon  to  think,  that  even 
 the  more  civilized  heathen  nations  had  generally  any 
 
 notion 
 
Revealed  Religion.)      HUMAN  NAtURE.  473 
 
 notion  of  it.  On  the  contrary,  we  find  the  enlightened 
 Athenians,  in  the  apoftolic  times,  ftartled  at  it,  as  alto- 
 gether new  to  them.  But,  to  ufe  the  words  of  the 
 great  apoftle  of  the  Gentiles  to  his  hearers,  "  Why  fliould 
 *'  it  be  thought  a  thing  incredible  that  God  fliould 
 "  raife  the  dead?"  To  give  life  and  being  at  firtl  to 
 what  was  once  nothing,  is  certainly  at  lead  as  difficult 
 as  to  ref|:ore  a  bodily  vehicle  from  a  fhate  of  corruption, 
 and  to  re-unite  to  it  the  mind,  which  had  ftiil  preferved 
 its  exillence  during  the  ftate  of  feparation.  And  the 
 fame  Omnipotence,  which  was  equal  to  the  former,  may 
 be  fairly  concluded  equal  to  the  latter.  The  precife 
 modus,  in  which  this  re-union  of  the  material  and  fpi- 
 ritual  parts  of  the  human  nature  at  the  refurreftion 
 will  be  executed,  is  to  us,  as  well  as  innumerable 
 other  effed:s  of  the  Divine  power,  wholly  unknown. 
 The  following  hypothefis,  or  conjecfure,  (the  author 
 of  which  I  cannot  recollect)  has  been  thought  ingeni- 
 ous. That  there  may  be  originally  difpoitd,  in  the 
 ft ru6ture  of  the  human  frame,  a  fyltem  oi  Jlamina,  in 
 jniniature,  of  the  future  aerial  or  letherial  refurredlion- 
 body,  fo  enveloped  or  vi'rapt  up,  as  to  continue  incor- 
 ruptible, till  the  confummation  of  all  things;  at  which 
 time,  by  a  pre-eftabliQied  law  of  Nature,  it  may  unfold 
 itfelf  in  a  manner  analogous  to  conception  or  vegetation, 
 and  the  foul  being  re-united  to  ir,  the  perfedl  man  may 
 again  appear,  renewed  in  his  nature  and  Itate,  and  yet 
 in  general  the  fame  compound  being  he  is  at  prefent, 
 coniiiting  of  foul  and  body,  or,  perhaps  more  properly, 
 of  body,  foul,  and  fpirit.  The  apollle  FaiiVs  compa- 
 rifon  of  the  death  and  burial  of  the  body  to  the  fowingof 
 a  grain  of  wheat;  and  the  refurrection  of  the  future  body 
 to  the  fpringing  up  of  the  ilalk,  which  we  know  to  be 
 nothing  elfe  than  the  unfolding  of  the  minute  Jtamiiia 
 originally  difpofed  in  the  grain  fown,  gives  counte- 
 nance to  this  conjecture,  and  probably  furnilhed  the  firll 
 hint  of  ir.  It  is  not  my  purpofe  to  eltablifh  any  one 
 hypothefis  whatever.  The  only  end  anfvvered  by  men- 
 tioning a  conjecture  for  folving  this  difficulty,  if  it  be 
 a  difficulty,  is  to  fliew  the  doctrine  of  a  future  refur- 
 vection  to  be  conceivable,  v/ithout  any  abfurdity.  It 
 ^   •■  inuft 
 
474  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 muft  even  be  owned,  that  the  fcherae  of  a  reftoration, 
 or  renovation,  of  the  whole  human  nature  is  incom- 
 parably more  beautiful  and  regular,  and  confequently 
 more  likely  to  be  the  true  one,  than  that  received  by  the 
 heathen  world,  which  fuppofed  the  total  lofs  or  deftrucr- 
 tion  of  one  effential  part  of  the  nature,  1  mean  the  body, 
 and  made  the  future  man  a  quite  different  being,  an 
 unbodied  fpjrit,  inftead  of  an  embodied  one.  Whereas 
 the  Chriftian  fcheme  reprefents  the  diffolution  and  fe- 
 paration  of  the  body  for  a  time  as  the  effed  and  punifh- 
 ment  of  vice,  and  its  reftoration  as  the  effeft  of  the  kind 
 interpofition  of  our  glorious  Deliverer;  by  which  means 
 the  v/hole  exiftence  of  the  human  fpecies  (I  mean,  that 
 part  of  them  which  fhall  be  found  fit  for  life  and  im- 
 mortality) appears  uniform,  and  of  a  piece;  and  after 
 the  conclufion  of  the  feparate  ft  ate,  goes  on  as  before, 
 only  with  the  advantage  of  being  incomparably  more 
 perfeft,  though  ftill  the  fame  in  kind. 
 
 The  views  held  forth  in  Scripture  of  the  future  re- 
 ftoration, glory,  and  happinefs  of  the  peculiar  people  of 
 God  ;  of  the  univerfal  eftablilhment  of  the  moft  pure 
 and  perfedl  of  religions;  of  the  millennium,  or  paradife  re- 
 ftored,  with  the  general  prevalency  of  virtue  and  good- 
 nefs;  by  which  means  a  very  great  proportion  of  thofe, 
 who  fliall  live  in  that  period,  will  come  to  happinefs ; 
 all  thefe  views  are  fublime,  worthy  of  the  Divine  reve- 
 lation which  exhibits  them,  and  fuitable  to  the  great- 
 nefs  of  the  moral  oeconomy.  But,  as  the  future  parts  of 
 prophecy  are,  and  ought  to  be,  difficult  to  underftand 
 in  all  their  minute  particulars,  as  is  evident  from  the 
 diverfity  of  opinions  given  by  the  commentators  on  thofe 
 parts  of  holy  writ ;  while  they  generally  agree,  that  the 
 above-mentioned  particulars  are  in  Scripture  held  forth 
 as  to  be  hereafter  accompliftied ;  as  this,  I  fay,  is  the 
 cafe,  it  may  not  be  neceffary  that  I  attempt  to  fix  any 
 one  particular  fcheme  of  the  completion  of  thofe  parts 
 of  prophecy. 
 
 The  dodrine  of  a  future  general  judgment  of  the 
 whole  human  race  by  the  fame  Divine  Perfon,   who,, 
 by  the  power  of  the  Father,  made  the  world,  and  who 
 redeemed  it,  is  held  forth  in  Scripture  in  a  manner  fuit- 
 able 
 
Revealed  Religion.;     HUMAN  NATURE.  475 
 
 able  to  the  pomp  with  which  fo  awful  a  fcene  may  be 
 expected  to  be  tranfacted.  That  the  whole  Divine 
 CEconomy,  with  refpeci  to  this  world,  fliould  conclude 
 with  a  general  inquiry  into,  and  public  declaration  of, 
 the  charadter,  and  fo  much  of  the  palt  conduift,  as  may 
 be  necelTary,  of  every  individual  of  the  fpecies ;  and 
 that,  in  confequence  of  the  different  behaviour  of  each, 
 during  the  Hate  of  difcipline  and  probation,  their  fu- 
 ture exiftence  (hould  be  happy  or  miferable  ;  that  every 
 individual  fhould  be  difpofed  of  according  to  what  he 
 has  made  himfelf  fit  for  ;  all  this  the  perfedl  reditude 
 of  the  Divine  nature  indifpenfably  requires.  And  with- 
 out this  conclufion  of  the  whole  oeconomy,  the  moral 
 government  of  the  world  mud  be  imperfect ;  or  rather, 
 without  it,  the  very  idea  of  moral  government  is  ab- 
 furd.  That  the  decilion  of  the  future  ftate  of  men  will 
 turn  chiefly  upon  their  general  prevailing  charadlers  ; 
 the  habits  they  have  acquired  ;  the  difpofirions  they 
 have  cultivated ;  their  attachment  to  virtue  and  obe- 
 dience, or  to  irregularity  and  vice,  feems  probable  both 
 from  Scripture  and  reafon.  So  that,  as  on  one  hand  a 
 few  errors,  if  not  perfifted  in,  but  repented  of  and  re- 
 formed, being  conliftent  with  a  prevailing  good  charac- 
 ter, may  be  overlooked  ;  fo,  on  the  other,  a  thoufand 
 adls  of  charity  or  virtue  of  any  kind,  if  done  from  indi- 
 redt  views,  or  by  perfons  of  hypocritical  or  bad  hearts, 
 will  gain  no  favour  from  the  general  Judge.  Of  what 
 confequence  is  it  then  that  we  be  fure  of  our  own  inte- 
 grity! And  how  dreadful  may  the  eflefts  prove  of  go- 
 ing out  of  the  prefent  ftate  of  difcipline,  with  one  vi- 
 cious habit  uncorrected,  or  with  a  temper  of  mind  de- 
 fective in  refpect  of  one  virtue  I 
 
 Whether  all  the  more  fecret  errors  of  perfons  of  good 
 characters,  of  which  they  have  fincerely  repented,  which 
 they  have  for  years  lamented  with  floods  of  undiflem- 
 bled  tears,  and  which  they  have  thoroughly  reformed, 
 will  be  difplayed  to  the  full  view  of  men  and  angels, 
 feems  a  queftionable  point :  For  it  does  not  to  reafon 
 appear  abfolutely  neceiTary  :  It  being  ealily  enough 
 conceivable,  that  the  character  of  a  perfon  may  be  de- 
 terminable by  Divine  Wifdom,  and  capable  of  being 
 
 fee 
 
4?6  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 fet  forth  to  the  general  view  in  a  manner  fufficiently  fa- 
 tisfadiory,  without  fo  minute  an  examination.  And  if 
 io,  it  may  be  concluded,  that  the  fmcere  penitent  will 
 be  put  to  no  necdlefs  pain.  And  if  there  is  a  pain  more 
 cruel  than  another,  it  is  for  a  generous  mind  to  be  ex- 
 pofed  to  public  fliame.  Befides  what  reafon  may  fug- 
 gelt  on  this  head,  the  numerous  expreffions  of  Scrip- 
 ture, of  *'  blotting  out  the  fins  of  penitents  from  the 
 *'  books  of  remembrance;  of  hiding,  covering,  and  for- 
 *'  getting  them,"  and  the  like,  feem  to  favour  the  opi- 
 nion, that  the  charader  and  conduit  of  penitents  will 
 be  only  fo  fir  difplayed,  as  to  fliew  them  to  be  fit  ob= 
 jed:s  of  the  Divine  Mercy. 
 
 SECT.    IV. 
 
 CoTiJiderations  on  the  Credibility  of  Scripture. 
 
 IT  is  not  only  to  the  ftudious  and  learned,  that  th« 
 proofs  of  Revelation  lie  level.  All  men,  who  wilj. 
 apply  their  faculties  with  the  farhe  diligence  and  attention 
 which  they  every  day  bellow  upon  the  comRion  affairs, 
 and  even  the  amufements,  of  life,  may  be  rationallv  con- 
 vinced,  that  they  are  under  Divine  Government,  and 
 mult  feel,  that  they  are  accountable  creatures ;  upon 
 which  fundamental  principles  the  whole  fcheme  of  Re- 
 velation being  conitrudted,  they  may  eafily  bring  them- 
 felves  to  fee  the  force  of  the  evidence  arifing  from  mira- 
 cles and  the  completion  of  prophecy,  particularly  thofe 
 relating  to  the  J^(?^£;^/Z'  people;  which,  in  conjunction 
 with  the  charader  of  Mofes  and  the  Prophets,  of  Chrijl, 
 and  his  Apollles ;  a  due  attention  to  the  nature  and 
 tendency  of  the  dodrines  and  precepts  contained  in 
 Scripture ;  and  the  confideration  of  the  eltablilhment 
 of  Chriftianity,  fo  wholly  unaccountable  upon  any  other 
 footing,  than  its  being  from  God ;  may  give  full  and  well- 
 grounded  fatisfadion  to  any  conliderate  perfon,  that  all 
 the  objedions  of  the  oppofers  of  Revealed  Religion  can 
 never  amount  to  fuch  a  degree  of  weight  in  the  whole, 
 as  to  over-balance  the  pofitive  proof  for  it,  or  yield  a 
 jTufficient  proof  that  the  whole  is  a  forgery. 
 
 At 
 
RfviahclRenghn,)     HUMAN  NATURE.  477 
 
 At  the  fame  time  it  muft  be  obferved,  that  to  be  quali- 
 fied for  examining  in  a  proper  manner  all  the  various 
 arguments  in  favour  of  Revelation,  requires  a  very  ex- 
 tenfive  knowledge  in  various  ways,  as  in  philological 
 and  critical  learning,  hiltory,  and  philofophy,  natural 
 and  moral.  Which  fliews  in  a  very  ftrange  light  the 
 prefumption  of  many  men  of  fuperftcial  and  narrow  im- 
 provements, who  pretend  to  oppofe  religion,  and  rafhly 
 enter  into  a  dii])ute  for  which  they  are  fo  ill  furnifhed. 
 
 For  it  is  the  unfair  and  fallacious  proceeding  of  many 
 difingenuous  oppofers  of  Revealed  Religion,  to  detach 
 fome  fingle  branch  of  proof,  or  fome  doubtful  argument, 
 and  by  cavilling  at  that,  endeavour  to  overturn  the 
 whole  evidence  for  Revelation.  But  v/hoever  will  con- 
 lider  the  fubject  with  candour,  will  fee,  that  it  is  of  fuch 
 an  extenfive  nature,  comprehends  fo  many  different 
 views,  and  is  ellablifhed  upon  fuch  a  variety  of  argU" 
 mentSy  drawn  from  dilierent  parts  of  knowledge,  that 
 the  true  Hate,  and  full  refulr,  of  the  evidence,  upon  the 
 whole,  cannot,  by  the  nature  of  the  thing,  be  reduced  to 
 one  point;  and  confequently,  that  taking  any  one  narrow 
 view  of  it,  and  judging  from  that,  is  the  way  to  deceive 
 ourfelves  and  others.  It  is  indeed  as  if  a  man  were 
 rafhly  to  pronounce,  that  the  earth  is  of  no  regular 
 figure  whatever,  merely  from  obferving  the  irregularity 
 of  the  ALpSj  and  other  ranges  of  mountains,  which  fill 
 the  eye  of  the  traveller,  while  the  whole  globe  is  too 
 large,  and  too  near,  for  the  human  light  to  comprehend 
 its  general  figure.  Yet  the  very  firffc  principles  of  geo- 
 graphy fliew,  that  the  protuberance  of  the  highell  moun- 
 tain of  the  world,  being  but  three  miles  perpendicular, 
 is  no  greater  irregularity  upon  a  globe,  eight  thoufand 
 miles  in  diameter,  than  the  little  roughneffes  upon  an 
 orange  are  derogations  from  the  general  roundnefs  of  its 
 figure ;  as  a  mite,  or  other  very  fmall  infect,  might  be 
 fuppofed  to  imagine  them. 
 
 To  confider  any  complex  fubjed:  in  a  partial  manner, 
 exclufive  of  any  material  part,  and  without  taking  in 
 the  whole  of  it,  is  not  conlidermg  it  as  it  is  ;  and  fub- 
 jeds  will  not  be  underllood  otherwife  than  as  they  are. 
 Men  of  narrow  minds  may  run  themfelves,  and  defign- 
 
 ing 
 
47^  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV,- 
 
 ing  men  others,  into  endlefs  labyrinths,  and  inextrica- 
 ble errors :  but  Truth  Hands  upon  its  own  eternal  and 
 immoveable  bafis  ;  and  Wifdom  will  in  the  end  be  jufti- 
 fied  oFher  children. 
 
 The  whole  evidence  of  Revelation  is  not  prophecy 
 r.lone,  nor  miracles  alone,  nor  the  fublimity  of  its 
 doftrines  alone,  nor  the  purity  of  its  precepts  alone,  nor 
 the  charaders  o^  Mo/es  and  the  Prophets,  Cbrijl,  and  his 
 ApoHles  alone,  nor  the  internal  charader  of  fimplicity 
 in  the  writings  of  Scripture  alone  ;  nor  any  one  of  the 
 other  branches  of  proof  alone  ;  but  the  joint  coincidence 
 and  accumulated  effed  of  them  all  concentred.  Now, 
 he  who  can  bring  himfelf  to  belief  ferioufly,  that  fuch  a 
 number  of  amazing  coincidences,  fuch  a  variety  of  evi- 
 dence, prefumptive  and  pofitive,  circumftantial  and 
 elFential,  collateral  and  diredl,  internal  and  external, 
 fliould  by  the  Divine  Providence  be  fuffered  to  concur, 
 to  the  effedual  and  remediiefs  deception  of  the  moll  in- 
 quifitive,  judicious,  and  ingenuous  part  of  mankind,  mufl 
 have  llrange  notions  of  the  Divine  oeconomy  in  the 
 moral  world.  And  he,  who,  in  fpite  of  the  fuper-abun- 
 dant  and  accumulated  evidence  for  the  truth  of  Reve- 
 lation, wall  fuffer  himfelf  to  be  milled  into  oppofition 
 againft  it,  merely  on  the  account  of  fome  fingle  circum- 
 ilial  difficulty,  muft  have  no  head  for  judging  compli- 
 cated evidence  ;  which  yet  every  man  has  occalion  to 
 weigh,  and  to  ad  upon  almoft  every  day  of  his  life. 
 And  he,  who,  from  indiredt  views  of  any  kind,  labour? 
 to  millead  mankind  into  oppofition  againft  what  would 
 be  infinitely  to  their  advantage  to  receive,  is  the  com- 
 mon enemy  of  truth,  and  of  mankind. 
 
 If  the  facred  hiftory  of  Scripture  has  not  the  inter- 
 nal marks  of  truth,  there  is  no  reafon  to  give  credit  to 
 any  hiftory  in  the  world.  And  to  queftion  the  veracity 
 of  ancient  hiftory  in  the  grofs,  would  be  (to  mention 
 no  other  abfurd  confequences)  doubting  whether  there 
 were  any  men  of  integrity  in  the  world,  till  thefe  four 
 or  five  centuries  laft  paft.  The  remarkable  coincidence 
 betwixt  facred  and  profane  hiftory  ftiews  the  genuine- 
 nefs  of  the  former  ;  and  its  delivering  grave  and  credi- 
 ble accounts  of  things,  while  many  of  the  ancient  wri- 
 ters 
 
Revealed  Rellgmu )        HUMAN  NATURE.  47<j 
 
 ters  amufe  us  with  fables  evidently  drawn  from  im- 
 perfedt  accounts  of  the  facred  ftory,  plainly  difcover 
 Scripture  to  have  been  the  original  from  wkich  the 
 other  is  an  imperfed  copy.  Of  the  foundation  and 
 meafure  of  certainty  attainable  by  tellimony,  I  have 
 treated  elfewhere*. 
 
 The  fragments  of  ancient  Phoenician  hiiiorians  pre- 
 ferved  by  Eufebius  ;  with  what  we  have  of  Tteno^  the 
 Egyptian  writers,  whofe  opinions  and  accounts  of  things 
 are  preferved  by  Diogenes^  Laertius,  Diodorus  Siculus, 
 and  others ;  the  fragments  we  have  afcribed  to  LinuSy 
 Orpheus,  Epicharmus ;  The  remains  of  Sanchoniatbon^ 
 Berofus,  Manetho,  Philo  Byblius,  Euryfus  the  Pythago- 
 rean, Hipparchus,  Amelius  the  Platonijl,  Heraclitus^ 
 TimcEUSj  Chalcidicus  (who  writes  of  Mofes),  Homery 
 Hejiod,  Callimachus ^  Arijlophanes,  Plato,  Cicero^  Qvid^ 
 all  thefe  in  what  they  fay  of  the  creation,  agree  in  the 
 main  with  Mofes'' s  account  of  it.  Homer,  Hefiod,  CalU-^ 
 machus,  Arijiohulus,  Theophilus  of  Antioch,  Lucian,  Dion 
 CaJJius,  Suetonius^  Jofephus,  Philo,  Tihuilus,  mention,  or 
 allude  to,  the  univerfal  cullom  of  reding  every  feventh 
 day.  The  Egyptian  writers^  Plato,  Strabo,  Ovid,  Virgil, 
 and  others,  mention  the  fiate  of  innocence,  and  the  Fail. 
 Philo  Byblius,  from  Sanchoniathon  and  Plutarch,  Ihew, 
 that  feveral  particulars  of  the  Fall  were  received  by  the 
 moft  ancient  heathens.  Ferdinand  Mendefius  teftifies, 
 that  many  particulars  relating  to  Adam,  Eve,  the  for- 
 bidden tree,  and  the  ferpent,  are  to  be  found  among  the 
 natives  of  Peru,  and  the  Philippine  illands.  And  the 
 name  of  Adam  is  known  among  the  India?!  Brachnians, 
 which  word  has  been  by  forae  thought  to  have  been  a 
 corruption  oi  Abrahamans ;  and  it  has  been  thought  pro- 
 bable that  the  religion  of  Zcroajlres  and  the  Magi  is 
 derived  from  that  patriarch.  The  truth  of  Mofes''s  ac- 
 count of  the  flood  is  attefted  by  Berojiis,  Diodorus ^  Varrc, 
 Pliny,  Plutarch,  Lucian,  Molo,  JSlicolaus,  Bamajcenus, 
 and  others ;  fome  of  whom  mention  the  name  oi  Noah, 
 the  ark,  and  the  dove.  Jofephus  Acofta,  and  Antojiio 
 Herrera  aiiirm,  that  at  Cuba,  Mechoana,  .Nicaragua,  and 
 other  parts  of  America,  the  memory  of  *the  Hood,  and 
 
 the 
 
 "*  See  pao^e  an, 
 
4rio  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV: 
 
 the  ark,  are  preferved,  and  were  found,  with  feveral 
 other  dodrines,  of  mere  revelation,  upon  the  firll  dif- 
 coveries  of  thole  places  bv  the  Europeans.  But  to  pro-^ 
 ceed,  Berofus,  Manetbo,  Hejiod,  Nicolaus,  Damafcenus, 
 and  others,  mention  the  age  of  the  firft  men  to  have 
 been  almoit  a  thoufand  years.  Plutarch,  Maximiu 
 Tyrms,  Catullus^  and  others,  fpeak  of  an  intercourfe  be- 
 tween God  and  men  in  ancient  times.  Porphyry^  Jam- 
 hlichus,  and  others,  fpeak  of  angels.  The  hiftory  of  the 
 tower  of  Babely  under  the  poetical  difguife  of  the 
 giants  to  fcale  heaven,  is  found  in  Homer,  Virgil.^  Horace, 
 Ovid,Liican,  and  the  Sibylline  Oracle  quoted  by  Jofephiu, 
 Diodorus  Sici/lus,  Strabo,  Tacitus,  Pliny,  and  Solinus, 
 mention  the  deilruAion  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah*  The 
 hiftory  of  Abraham  and  other  patriarchs,  agreeable  to 
 the  writings  of  Mofes,  is  found  in  Philo  Byblius  from 
 Sanchoniathon,  and  in  Berofus,  Hecatceus,  Damafcenus, 
 Artapanus,  Eupolemus,  De?netrius,  and  Jufdn  from  Tro- 
 gus  Pompeius,  who  alfo  gives  Jofeph^  hiftory  agreeable  to 
 Scripture.  By  feveral  of  thefe  the  principal  a6ts  of  Mofes 
 are  related.  Of  whom  mention  is  alfo  made  by  Mane-: 
 tho,  Lyfimachus,  Ch(£remon,  Diodoi'us  Sicidus,  Ldnginus, 
 Strabo,  Pliny,  and  Tacitus.  Diodorus  fpeaks  of  the  dry- 
 ing up  of  the  Red  Sea.  Herodotus,  Diodorus,  Strabo, 
 Philo  Byblius,  Arijlophanes,  Tacitus,  Horace,  and  Jitve^ 
 nal,  mention  the  ceremony  of  circumcifion.  Eiifebius 
 tells  us,  that  a  book  was  written  by  Eupolemus  on  Elijah'' s 
 Miracles.  The  Hiftory  of  Jonah  is  in  Lycophron  and 
 ALneas  Gaztsus,  Julian  the  apoftate  owns  that  there 
 were  infpired  men  among  the  Jews.  Menander  men- 
 tions the  great  drought  in  the  time  of  Elijah.  The 
 hiilories  of  David  and  Solomon  are  given  in  a  pretty 
 full  manner  in  the  remains  of  the  Phcenician  Annals, 
 and  Damafcenus'' s  Hiftory,  in  Eupolemus,  and  Dius's 
 Phcenician  Hiftory,  who  fpeaks  of  riddles,  or  hard  que- 
 llions,  lent  betwixt  Solomon  and  Hiram  ;  of  which  alfo 
 Menander  the  Ephejian  Hillorian,  Alexander  Polyhijlor^ 
 and  others,  give  an  account.  Hazael,  King  of  Syria,  is 
 mentioned  by  Jujlin.  Menander  the  Hillorian  men- 
 tions Salmanafar,  who  carried  the  Ifraelites,  or  ten 
 tribes,  into  that  captivity,  from  which  they  are  not  yet  re- 
 2  turned 
 
'kevealccl  Religion. )     HUMAN  NATURE.  481 
 
 turned.    The  name  and  expeditions  0? Scnimcheriby  King 
 of  AJTyria,  are  found  in  Berofiis' s  CbaldaicSy  and  Bero- 
 dotiis^s  Hillory,  which  laft  relates  the  deftrudion  of  his 
 vaft  army  {2  Ki?ijs  xvii.)   with   a   mixture   of  fable. 
 Suetonius,    Tacitus,   Pliny  the  younger,   and    Numenius 
 teftify,   that  there  was  fuch  a  perfon  as  Jtffus  Cbriji^ 
 His  miracles  are  owned  by  Celfus,  Julian  the  Apoftate, 
 and  the  Jewijfy  writers,  who  oppofe  Cbriftianity.     Por« 
 pbyry,  though  an  enemy  to  the  Chriftian  Religion,  fays, 
 "  after  Chrijl  was  worfhipped,  no  one  received  any  be- 
 "  nefit  from  the  gods."     Suetonius,  Tacitus,   Pliny,  Ju- 
 lian the  Apoilate,  and  the  Jewi/Jj  writers,  mention  his 
 being  put  to   death.     And  Tacitus  afSiriiis,  that  many 
 were  put  to  death  for  their   adherence  to  his  religion. 
 A  very  particular  and  favourable  account  of  the  cha- 
 radler  and  behaviour  of  the  firft  Chuiitians  is  given  by 
 Pliny,  in  a  letter  to  the  Emperor  Trajan,  ftill  extant. 
 Phlegon,   in  his  Annals,   mentions  the   miracles  of  St. 
 Peter.     And  St.  Paul  is  celebrated  in  a  fragment  of 
 Longinus  among  eminent  orators.     Theiliftory  of  our 
 Saviour's  life,  death,   refurredtion,  and  alcenlion,  was 
 declared  by  the  Apoltles  in  the  face  of  his  enemies,  and 
 in  the  very  country,  wher^  he  lived,  died,   and  rofe 
 ag-ain.    They  wrote  their  accounts  in  Greek,  which  was 
 univerfally  underilood,  and  related  the  things,  as  they 
 paiTed  a  very  few  years  before,   and  which  muft  have 
 been  frefn  in  every  body's  memory.  The  name  of  Jefus 
 muft  have  been  entered  in  the  public  tables,  or  regifters, 
 at  his  birth.     To  v/hich  accordingly  Jujlln  Martyr  and 
 TertulUan  appeal.    And  the  account  of  his  death  and  re- 
 furreclion  mult,  according  to  the  cuftom,  when  any  thing 
 remarkable  happened  in  any  of  the  Provinces  of  the  Em- 
 pire, have  been  fent  to  the  Court  o£Ronie.   The  memory 
 cf  the  llaughter  of  the  innocents  is  preferved  by  Au- 
 giijlus''s  remark  on  Herod's   cruelty.      The  miraculous 
 darknefs  at  our  Saviour's  crucifixion   (vv^hich  was  un- 
 doubtedly fupernatural ;    it  being  impoHible  that  the 
 fun  ihould  be  eclipfed  by  the  moon  which  was  then  in 
 oppolition)  is  affirmed  by  TertulUan  to  have  been  upon 
 record  in  his  time  in  the  public  regifters.     Our  Saviour; 
 is  feveral  times  mentioned  by  Jofephus  j  though  not  in 
 
 I  i  fuch 
 
4S2  THE  Dlt^NITY  OF  (Book  H* 
 
 fucli  a  manner  as  fo  extraordinary  a  character  deferved. 
 But  nothing  is  more  common  than  fuch  unexpedled 
 neglects  in  hiftorians.  Belides.  it  is  'probable  that 
 Jofephus  might  be  under  fome  conftraint  in  touching 
 "on  the  fubjecl  of  Chrifs  and  his  Religion ;  as  he  makes 
 honourable  mention  oi  John  BapHfi,  and  of  James  the 
 brother  of  Jefus  ;  to  whofe  murder  he  afcribes  the  de- 
 fcrudlion  of  Jerufaleiiu 
 
 Such  public  palTages  as  the  dumbnefs  inflifted  on 
 Zacharias,  while  the  people  v/ere  waiting  without  the 
 temple  ;  of  the  wife  men  from  the  eaft  ;  of  the  murder 
 of  the  innocents  ;  of  our  Saviour's  driving  fome  hun- 
 dreds, probably,  of  people  out  of  the  outer  coiirt  of  the 
 temple,  immediately  after  his  triumph,  which  muft 
 have  alarmed  the  whole  city;  the  prodigies  at  his 
 death  ;  the  dreadful  end  of  fud.is  Ifcariot ;  the  names 
 of  the  Roman  Emperor,  and  Governor,  of  Herod,  of  the 
 High  Prieil,  of  Nicodemiis,  of  Jojeph  of  Jirimathaa^  of 
 Gamaliel^  Dionyjius  the  Areopagite,  Sergius  Paulus,  Si?non 
 Magus,  Felix,  King  Agrippa,  Tertullus^  Gallio,  and  many 
 other  perfons  of  the  higheft  rank  mentioned  with  great 
 fre^om,  fliew,  that  the  hillorians  were  under  no  appre- 
 henlion  of  being  deteclied  ;  and,  at  the  fame  time,  efta- 
 blifh  the  genuinenefs  of  the  New  Teftament  Hiftory 
 by  chronological  and  geographical  evidences.  Nor 
 would  any  fet  of  impoftors  have  overloaded  their  fcheme 
 with  fuch  a  number  of  circumftances  no  way  neceffary 
 to  it,  for  fear  of  committing  fome  blunder,  which  might 
 have  detefted  them.  The  miraculous  power  of  inflidl- 
 ing  death  upon  offenders,  as  in  the  cafe  of  Ananias  and 
 Sapphira,  and  bliqdnefs  in  that  of  ElymaSy  was  not  a 
 tiling  to  be  boailed  of,  if  it  had  not  been  true  ;  be- 
 caufe  of  the  danger  of  being  called  to  account  by  the 
 civil  magiftrate.  And  that  the  New  Teftament  Hiftory 
 is  not  a  forgery  of  latter  times,  is  much  better  efta- 
 blilhed,  than  that  the  ^Eneid,  the  Metamorphoiis,  and 
 Horace''s  works,  were  writ  in  the  Augujian  age.  For 
 none  of  them  was  authenticated  by  whole  churches, 
 nor  are  they  cited  by  multitudes  of  authors  cotempo- 
 rary  v/ith  them,  us  the  apoftolical  writings  are  by  Bar- 
 jialiis,  Clemens,  Rominus,  Igna^>vs,  Polvcarp,  and  the 
 
 reft. 
 
ktvealcdReiigiGH.)       HUMAN  NATURIl  4^3 
 
 reft,  and  acknowledged  to  be  the  genuine  works  of  the 
 authors,  whofe  names  they  bear,  by  enemies,  as  Trypboy 
 Julian  the  Apoftate,  and  others  of  the  eariieft  ages,  and 
 authenticated  by  fuccceding  writers  through  every  fol- 
 lowing period.  The  numerous  ancient  apologifts  for 
 Chriftianity,  in  their  addrefles  to  the  Emperors,  con- 
 firm the  particulars  of  the  New  Teftament  Hiftory  bv 
 their  appeals  to  records  then  extant,  and  perfons  then 
 living.  And  hiftory  fnews,  that  thofe  appeals  were  fo 
 convincing  as  to  gain  the  Chriftians  from  time  to  time 
 favour  and  raercy  from  the  Emperors. 
 
 That  the  Mofaic  Hiftory  of  the  Patriarchs,  and  their 
 pofterity  the  Jews  and  Ifraelties,  is  genuine,  is  in  a 
 manner  vifible  at  this  day  from  the  prefent  circum- 
 ftances  of  that  part  of  them,  who  are  diftinguiftied  from 
 all  other  people,  I  mean  the  Jfws,  or  the  pofterity  of 
 the  two  tribes  :  for  thofe  of  the  ten  are,  according  to 
 the  predictions  of  prophecy,  at  prefent  undilHnguilhcd, 
 though  hereafter  to  be  reftored  with  their  brethren  the 
 Jews  to  their  own  land.  There  is  no  fuch  minute  and 
 circumi'tantial  proof,  that  the  Italians  are  the  defcen- 
 dents  of  the  ancient  Ro?nans,  or  the  French  of  the  Gauls. 
 
 It  is  to  be  obferved,  that  the  miraculous  and  fuper- 
 natural  parts  of  the  facred  ftory  depend  on  the  very 
 fame  authority  as  the  common,  and  are  accordingly  re- 
 lated in  the  fame  manner  ;  and  the  whole  hangs  fo  to- 
 gether, and  rells  on  the  fame  foundation,  that  they 
 niuft  either  be  both  true,  or  both  falfe.  But  no  one 
 ever  imagined  the  latter  to  be  the  cafe. 
 
 The  iimplicity  of  the  Scripture  accounts  of  the  moil 
 llriking  and  amazing  events  any  where  related,  their 
 being  defcribed  in  the  fame  artlefs  and  unatFecled 
 manner  as  the  common  occurrences  of  hiftory,  is  at 
 leaft  a  very  Itrong  prefumption,  that  the  relators  had 
 no  deftgn  of  any  kind,  but  to  give  a  true  reprefentatioii 
 of  fa6ls.  Had  MofeSy  the  moft  ancient  of  hiilorians, 
 had  any  delign  to  impofe  upon  mankind,  could  he,  in 
 his  account  of  the  creation,  the  flood,  the  dellrudtion 
 of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  by  fire,  from  heaven,  of  the 
 efcape  of  the  Ifraelitijh  people  from  Egyptian  tyranny, 
 and  their  paffage  through  the  wildernefs  under  his  own 
 
 W  n,  condud:, 
 
484  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV, 
 
 condudl,  (a  retreat  more  remarkable  than  that  of  the 
 ten  thoufand  under  Xeiwphon,  which  makes  fuch  a 
 figure  in  hiflory)  could  the  rekitor  of  thefe  amazing 
 events  have  avoided  expiating  and  flourifhing  upon 
 fuch  afloniQung  fcenes,  had  they  been  mere  invention? 
 Would  the  fabulous  writer  of  a  fet  of  adventures,  of 
 Vv^hich  himfelf  v/as  the  fictitious  hero,  have  fpoke  of 
 himfelf  with  the  modedj  which  appears  in  the  Mofaic 
 Hiftory  ?  Would  he  have  reprefented  himfelf  as  capa- 
 ble of  timidity,  diffidence,  or  paffion  ?  Would  he  have 
 immortalized  his  own  weaknefles  ?  Had  the  inventor 
 of  the  Scripture  account  of  Ahraham^  and  his  pofterity, 
 intended  his  ficTdtious  hillory  as  an  encomium  upon 
 that  people,  as  Virgil  did  his  ^neid  on  his  country- 
 men, would  he  have  reprefented  them  as  a  perverfe, 
 difobedient  people,  fo  often  under  the  difpleafure  of 
 their  God  ;  condemned  to  wander  forty  years,  and 
 periili  at  lafl  to  the  number  of  many  thoufands  in  the 
 "wildernefs,  to  the  feeming  difparagement  of  the  wifdom 
 of  their  leader  ;  ever  deviating  into  the  worfiiip  of  idols, 
 contrary  to  what  might  have  been  expected  from  the 
 numerous  miracles  wrought  in  their  favour  by  the  true 
 God,  a  circumftance  very  improper  to  be  dwelt  en,  as 
 being  likely  to  bring  the  truth  of  thofe  miracles  into 
 queftion  with  fuperfieial  readers? 
 
 Would  the  inventors  of  the  New  Teftament  Hiftory, 
 fuppofing  it  a  fiction,  have  given  an  account  of  fuch  a 
 feries  of  miracles  in  the  cool  and  unafTeded  manner 
 they  do,  had  they  not  been  genuine  ?  Could  they  have 
 avoided  fome  flights  of  fancy  in  defcribing  fuch  v»^on- 
 ders,  as  the  feeding  of  thoufands  with  almoft  nothing  ; 
 the  curing  ot  difeafes,  calming  of  tcmpefts,  driving  evil 
 fpirits  from  their  holds,  and  calling  the  dead  out  of 
 their  graves,  with  a  Vv'ord  ?  Could  they  have  given  an 
 account  of  the  barbarities  infiicled  on  the  moft  innocent 
 and  amiable  of  all  characters,  without  working  up  their 
 narration  to  the  pitch  of  a  tragedy? 
 
 Muft  not  a  man  be  out  of  his  wits  before  he  could 
 think  of  writing  a  fet  of  grave  direciions  about  the  con- 
 duct of  miraculous  and  fupernatural  gifts,  as  of  fpeaking 
 foreign  langunges^  which  the  fpeakers  hr.d  never  learn- 
 ed \ 
 
Revealed  Rengion.)         HUMAN   NATURE.  483 
 
 ed ;  foretelling  future  events,  and  the  like  ;  miifl:  not  a 
 man  be  diliradlcd,  who,  in  our  times,  when  no  fuch 
 miraculous  gifts  fubfift,  fliould  write  of  them  as  common 
 and  unqueflionable  ?  This  the  Apoftlc  FAul,  one  of  the 
 moft  judicious  writers  of  antiquity,  facred  or  profane, 
 does  in  a  variety  of  places ;  mentioning  them  inciden- 
 tally and  without  going  out  of  his  way  to  prove  the  ex- 
 idence  of  them,  and  even  depreciating  them  in  com- 
 parifon  with  moral  virtues.  What  is  to  be  concluded 
 from  hence,  but  that  thofe  miraculous  gifts  were  at  that 
 time  as  notorious,  and  common,  as  perhaps  the  know- 
 ledge of  mathematics,  or  any  other  fcience,  is  now 
 among  us? 
 
 Miracles  being  a  very  important  part  of  the  evidence 
 for  Revelation,  it  is  proper  to  confider  a  little  that 
 fubjecT:.  And  firli,  one  would  wonder,  that  ever  it  fnould 
 have  occurred  to  any  perfon,  that  the  proof  from  mira- 
 cles is  a  weak  or  fufpicious  one,  fuppofing  the  miracles 
 to  be  really  fuch,  and  nothing  inconfiftent  in  the  doc- 
 trine they  are  brought  in  proof  of.  For  nothing  feeras 
 more  reafonable  to  expedl,  than-  that,  if  the  Author  of 
 Nature  ftiould  choofe  to  be  likew^ife  Author  of  Revela- 
 tion, he  Hiould  fliew  his  concern  in  the  eftabliQiment 
 or  promulgation  of  fuch  Revelation,  by  exerting  that 
 -power  over  nature,  which  we  know  he  is  polTeired  of, 
 .and  for  which  we  believe  and  adore  him,  as  the  Author 
 of  Nature.  Can  anv  thing  be  more  Teafonable  to  ex- 
 peel,  than  that  He,  who  firft  breathed  into  man  the 
 ■breath  of  life,  fliould,  in  order  to  affure  mankind,  that 
 a  particular  meiTage  comes  from  Him,  give  power  to 
 thofe  he  employs  in  carrying  fuch  raellage,  to  reftore 
 life  to  the  dead;  or  than  that  He,  who  made  the  ele- 
 ments of  the  natural  world,  fliould  authenticate  his  re- 
 pealed lavv7s  by  giving  to  thofe,  whom  he  employs  in 
 promulgating  them,  a  power  over  nature,  a  command 
 of  the  elements  of  air  and  water ;  fo  that  winds  m.ay 
 <:eafe  to  rage,  and  waves  to  roll  at  their  wbrd  ?  There 
 is  indeed  all  the  reafon  in  the  v/orld  to  believe,  that 
 thofe  very  objsdors  againll:  the  propriety  of  miracles, 
 as  a  proof  of  a  Revelation  coming  from  God,  would  have 
 found  fault  with  ChriUianity,   had  there  been  no  ac- 
 
 .  i  i  3  couni; 
 
486  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IVv" 
 
 of  miracles  in  Scripture,  as  deficient  in  one  very  ftrong 
 and  convincing  evidence  of  a  Divine  Original, 
 
 Tiie  proper  definition  of  fuch  a  miracle  as  may  be 
 fuppofed  to  be  worked  by  Divine  Authority  for  proof 
 of  a  Revelation  from  God,  is,  An  immediate  and  extra- 
 ordinary effect  of  power  fuperior  to  all  human  ;  exhi- 
 bited in  prefence  of  a  competent  number  cf  credible 
 ■witneffes,  in  fuch  manner  as  to  be  fubiecl  to  their  de- 
 liberate  examination  ;  exprefsly  declared  lo  be  mtended 
 for  eftablifhing  a  doctrine  in  it(elf  reafonable,  and  ufe- 
 ful  for  the  improvement  of  mankind  in  virtue. 
 
 Firft,  a  proper  miracle,  in  the  theological  fenfe,  muft 
 be  an  immediate  and  extraordinary  efiect  of  power,  ex- 
 hibited exprefsly  for  the  purpofe.  For  the  application 
 of  any  of  the  conitant  and  regular  powers  or  properties 
 of  natural  bodies,  in  however  aitful,  or  to  common  peo- 
 ple inconceivable,  a  manner,  is  no  miracle  ;  elfe  all  the 
 arts,  efpecially  chemiftry,  might  be  faid  to  be  fyllems 
 of  miracles.  The  pretended  miracle  of  the  liqueiaclioii 
 of  the  blood  of  Saint  Januariusy  vvith  which  the  priefts 
 in  Popiih  countries  yearly  delude  the  ignorant  people, 
 is  no  more  than  the  natural  effed:  of  a  certain  liquor 
 dropped  upon  a  mafs  of  a  particular  gummy,  or 
 refinous  fubftance,  which  dilfolves  in  a  manner  as  little 
 miraculous,  as  that  of  a  lump  of  lugar,  upon  which 
 water  is  dropped.  But  to  proceed.  The  miraculous 
 "Work  performed  muft  be  the  elTecl  of  a  power  fu- 
 perior  to  all  human.  It  is  not  neccfiary,  that  it  be  fu- 
 perior to  angelic  power.  Becaufe  our  beft  notions  of 
 the  Divine  Oeconomy  lead  us  to  believe  that  fpiritual  be- 
 ings are  the  inftrumentsof  God  for  the  advantage  of  man- 
 kind. So  that  while  we  believe  this  to  queftion  a  miracle 
 performed  by  a  good  angel,  would  be  infulting  Heavea 
 itfeif.  And  we  may  reafonably  conclude  from  the  ten- 
 dency of  the  doclrine  or  laws  to  be  eftablifhed,  whether 
 the  miracle  is  wrought  by  a  good  or  evil  being,  accord- 
 ing to  our  Saviour's  reafoning,  Matth.  xii.  25.  A  mira- 
 cle performed  in  confirmation  of  a  doctrine  tending  to 
 promote  and  eltablifli  virtue  in  the  world,  and  to  de- 
 feat the  defigns  which  evil  beings  may  have  againft 
 mankind,  may  reafonably  be  concluded  to  be  wrought 
 fcy  lUe  ppwer,  not  of  a  fiend,  but  a  good  fpirit,  and 
 '  '  contrarivvife. 
 
Revealed  Religion.)     HUMAN  NATURE.  487 
 
 contrariwife.  For  it  is  rearonable  to  expecfl  a  being  to 
 exert  his  power  for  the  advancement  of  what  is  agree- 
 able to  his  own  character,  and  not  for  the  contrary 
 pur  pole. 
 
 Some  miracles  may  be  conceived  not  to  be  clearly^ 
 and  indif put  ably,  above  all  human  power  ;  and  yet  to 
 be  genuine  miracles.  Some  of  the  works  of  Mofes  were 
 fuch,  that  the  Egyptian  artifls  could  imitate  them  in 
 fome  manner,  deluiive  indeed,  and  defedlive;  but  which 
 rendered  it  at  leait  difputable  whether  they  were  wholly 
 above  human  power,  or  not.  Nor  is  it  neceiLiry,  that 
 every  Divine  million  be  fo  authenticated  as  to  put  its 
 genuinenefs  beyond  all  pojjible  qurjlion.  It  is  enough, 
 if,  upon  the  whole,  there  be  a  conliderable  overbalance 
 of  credibility.  For,  after  all,  direct  Revelations  of  all 
 kinds,  are  ever  to  be  confidered  as  exuberances  of  Divine 
 Goodnefs ;  as  advantages  beyond  what  rational  agents, 
 in  mott  cafes,  have  any  ground  to  expedl ;  and  are 
 therefore  by  no  micans  to  be  thought  deficient,  if  they 
 want  this  or  that  evidence,  and  be  not  attended  with 
 all  the  circumllances  of  conviction  vi'hich  our  fantaili- 
 cal  imaginations  could  invent.  The  leail  and  lowefl 
 degree  of  fupernatural  aflillance  is  more  than  we  had 
 any  reaibn  to  exped:,  or  pretence  to  demand.  And  had 
 we  never  been  bleil  with  any  clear  and  extenfive  Re- 
 velation, we  fhould  have  been  altogether  without  ex- 
 cufe  in  ading  a  wicked  part,  and  iiifling  the  light  of 
 natural  conlcience.    ' 
 
 Others  of  the  Scripture  miracles,  and  thofe  by  far  the 
 moft  confiderable  part,  are  fuch  as  to  be  clearly  and  un- 
 queftionably  above  all  human  power.  Of  this  fort  are 
 the  dividing  of  theRed  Sea,  the cui-ing  inveterate  difeafes 
 with  a  word,  and  railing  the  dead, 
 
 A  miracle  ought  (in  order  to  its  being  received  by 
 thofe  who  were  not  eye-witneffes)  to  have  been  wrought 
 in  the  prefence  of  fuch  a  number'of  credible  witnefles, 
 as  to  render  it  unlikely  that  there  fhould  have  been  any 
 delufion.  Though  it  may  be  poffible,  that  the  fenfes  of 
 one  or  two  perfons  may  be  deceived,  it  is  not  to  be  fup- 
 pofed,  that  thofe  of  any  number  fiiould.  And  the 
 greater  the  number  of  the  witneffes  is  (fuppoling  them 
 credible)  the  probability  of  their  being  all  at  the  fame 
 
 I  i  4  time 
 
483  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV,, 
 
 time  under  a  delufion  becomes  the  lef?,  till  it  comes  to 
 be  wholly  incredible  and  inconceivable.  And  then 
 their  teftimony  becomes  unqueliionable.  Thisneceliary 
 condition  effednally  excludes  luch  pretended  miracles 
 as  thofe  of  Mabomet^s  vifion,  which  pafled  wholly 
 without  witnefs.  For  our  Saviour's  reafoning  is  unde- 
 niably juft  ;  if  a  man  bear  record  of  himfef  his  record 
 is  not  true  ;  that  is,  the  mere  affertion  of  a  perfon,  who, 
 for  any  thin^  that  appears,  may  be  interelled  to  deceive, 
 is  not  a  fufficient  ground  of  credit.  On  this  account 
 alfo  that  moft  monftrous  infult  upon  all  the  fenfes  and 
 faculties  of  mankind,  Tranfubftantiation,  is  effeclually 
 cut  off  from  all  preteniions  to  the  charader  of  a  miracle. 
 For  the  wafer  is  fo  far  from  having  been  ever  turned 
 into  a  whole  Cbriji  before  any  credible  witnefs,  or  wit- 
 nefles ;  that  every  perfon,  before  whom  it  has  been 
 attempted  or  pretended  to  be  done,  has  had,  or  might 
 have  had,  the  affiirances  of  both  fenfe  and  underftand- 
 ing,  that  it  remained  ftill  as  much  wafer  as  ever. 
 
 The  wimelTes  of  a  miracle  mull  be  credible.  They 
 muft  be  under  no  vifibie  temptation  to  deceive;  and 
 they  muft  be  perfons  of  inch  underftanding  as  to  be 
 equal  to  the  examination  of  the  pretended  miracle. 
 The  pretended  miracles  of  the  papilts  may  on  very  juft, 
 grounds  be  fufpecled  ;  as  we  know  what  immenfe  pro- 
 fits that  worldly  church  gets  by  deluding  the  people. 
 The  workers  t>f  the  vScripture-miracles  were  under  no 
 temptation  to  bribe  witnelTes,  but  quite  to  the  contrary. 
 For  they  all  loft,  and  none  of  them  gained  any  thing  »> 
 fecular  by  their  works.  Mofes  forfook  the  court  of 
 Pharaoh,  to  wander  many  years  in  the  wildernefs,  and 
 die  there.  The  prophets  futfered  perfecution  and  death 
 for  their  plainnefs  in  reproving  the  fafliionabie  vices  of 
 their  times.  The  blefled  Saviour  of  the  world,  and 
 his  apoftles,  and  the  firft  profelytes  to  Chriftianity,  ex- 
 pofed  themfelves  to  every  kind  of  afflidion  and  diftrefs, 
 and  to  violent  and  infamous  deaths.  So  that  they  can- 
 not, Avith  any  fliadow  of  reafon,  be  fufpedled  of  having 
 bribed  witnefles  to  teftify  to  their  miracles;  nor  indeed 
 had  they  any  fecular  advantage  to  offer  in  order  to  gain 
 profelyte:>. 
 
 The 
 
RevejMReUgkn.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  489 
 
 The  witnelTes  of  a  fuppofed  miracle  muil:,  in  order 
 to  its  credibility,  be  fuppofed  perfons  of  fuch  under- 
 ftanding,  as  to  be  equal  to  the  examination  of  the  fadl. 
 I^ow  the  Scripture- miracles  were  performed  before  fuch 
 numbers,  that,  according  to  the  common  courfe  of 
 human  capacities,  they  mud  have  been  feen  and  exa- 
 mined by  many  perfons,  not  only  of  fufiicient  under- 
 ftanding  for  inquiring  into  a  fimple  fadl,  but  of  more 
 fiirewdnefs  and  fagacity  than  ordinary.  Nor  was  there 
 any  fuperior  capacity  aieceffary  to  determine  whether 
 the  Red- Sea  was  really  miraculoully  divided,  when  the 
 thoufands  of  7/r«<f/ paiTed  through  it  in  full  march,  and 
 faw  the  waters  as  a  wall  on  their  right  hand,  and  on 
 their  left.  Nor  was  there  any  occalion  for  great  fiiga- 
 city  to  convince  thofe  who  faw  fome  hundreds  of 
 difeafed  people  healed  with  a  word,  that  real  miracles 
 were  wrought.  Nor  was  there. any  fubtlety  of  difcern- 
 ment  neceffary  to  convince  the  difciples  of  Chri/ly  who 
 had  converfed  with  him  for  feveral  years,  who  heard 
 him  fpeak  as  never  man  fpoke,  that  he,  who  after  his 
 death  appeared  to  feveral  hundreds  together,  and  often 
 converfed  intimately  with  the  eleven,  for  fix  weeks,  was 
 the  fame  perfon,  their  well-known  Lord  and  Mafter, 
 whom  they  faw  crucified  on  mount  Calvary. 
 
 It  is  faid  in  the  above  definition  of  a  proper  miracle, 
 that,  in  order  to  credibility,  it  is  neceffary,  that  the 
 effed  be  fuch  as  to  be  fubject  to  the  full  examination 
 of  the  fpedators.  There  are  v^ry  few  of  the  Scripture- 
 miracles  that  were  not  of  too  fubllantial  and  perma- 
 nent ii  nature,  to  be  in  any  manner  imitated  by  the 
 prcsjiigi(S^  or  tricks  of  impoftors.  A  iudden  appearance, 
 for  a  ihort  time,  of  any  flrange  and  unaccountable  kind, 
 might  be  queftioned.  Eut  a  body  difeafed  for  many 
 years,  cured  with  a  word,  a  withered  limb  reilored  in  a 
 moment,  a  diilra^led  brain  infiantly  redreffed,  a  daemon 
 authoritatively  dilpoffeffed,  a  man  four  days  buried,  re- 
 called to  life  ;  thefe  are  effeds  of  power  too  fubftantial 
 to  be  miftaken ;  and  too  lafiing  to  be  fufpeded  of  hav- 
 ing paffed  through  a  fuperficial  examination. 
 
 Laftly,  it  is  faid  in  the  above  definition  of  a  proper 
 ^nd  credible  miracle,  that  it  muft  be  declared  by  the 
 
 worker 
 
«t>»  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV 
 
 worker  of  it  to  be  wrought  exprefsly  in  confirmation  of 
 fome  particular  doclrine,  u  hich  dodrine  mult  be  fuch 
 as  to  commend  itfelf  to  the  unprejudiced  reafon  of  man- 
 kind, and  to  bear  the  marks  of  a  revelation  worthy  of 
 God,  and  ufeful  for  men.  A  miracle,  or  wonderful 
 eifed:,  connedted  with  no  particular  dodrine,  is  to  be 
 called  a  natural  or  artificial  phaenoraenon,  or  a  prodigy; 
 not  a  miracle  in  a  theological  fenfe,  which  lall  alone  is 
 what  we  are  at  prelent  concerned  with. 
 
 No  miracle  whatever,  nor  any  number  of  miracle?, 
 would  be  fufficient  to  prove  twice  two  to  be  five.  Be- 
 caufe  we  are  more  clearly  and  undoubtedly  certain  of 
 the  proportions  of  numbers,  than  of  any  thing  fuper- 
 natural.  And  all  miracles  are  fupernatural.  And  it 
 would-be  abfurd  to  imagine  that  the  infinitely  wife 
 Author  of  reafon  fhould  exped:  ustoqueftion  the  cer- 
 tain information  of  our  reafon  upon  evidence  lefs  certain. 
 
 Again,  if  miracles  are  pretended  to  be  wrought  in 
 proof  of  a  doctrine  which  leads  to  any  vicious  or  impi- 
 ous pradice,  as  v/e  may,  by  a  proper  examination,  and 
 due  life  of  our  faculties,  be  more  certain,  that  fuch  a 
 dodrine  cannot  be  from  God,  than  we  can  be,  that  a 
 pretended  miracle,  in  fupport  of  it,  is  from  him  ;  it  is 
 plain,  we  are  to  rejed  both  the  dodrine  and  pretended 
 miracle,  as  infufficient  againfi:  the  clear  and  unqueftion- 
 able  didates  of  reafon.  But  if  miracles,  anfwering  in 
 every  part  the  above  definition,  are  wrought  before  cre- 
 dible witnelfes,  in  exprefs  atteftation  of  a  dodrine ,  though 
 not  difcoverable  by  reafon,  yet  not  contradidory  to  it, 
 «nd  tending  to  the  advancement  of  virtue  and  happi- 
 ntfs,  we  ought  in  any  reafon  to  conclude  fuch  miracles, 
 when  properly  attefted,  to  have  been  performed  by  the 
 power  of  God,  or  of  fome  being  authoriled  by  him  ; 
 and  may  judge  ourfelves  fafe  in  receiving  them  as  fuch; 
 becaufe  we  cannot  fuppofe  that  God  would  leave  his 
 creatures  in  a  ftate  obnoxious  to  remedilefs  delufion  ; 
 nay,  we  cannot  but  think  it  criminal  to  negled,  or  op- 
 pofc,  miracles  in  fuch  a  manner  attelled,  or  the  dodrine 
 intended  to  be  eftabiiflied  by  them. 
 
 It  has  been  objeded  againft  the  accotint,   we  have  in 
 Scripture,  of  innumerable  miracles  performed  by  Mofts, 
 
 and 
 
Revealed  Rcltgton.)         HUMAN   NATURE.  491 
 
 and  the  prophets,  Chrijl,  and  his  apoftles ;  That  it  is 
 not  likely,  ihey  fliould  be  true,  becaufe  we  have  none 
 fuch  in  our  times.  That,  as  we  have  no  experience  of 
 miracles,  we  have  no  reafon  to  believe  that  ever  there 
 were  any  performed. 
 
 Suppoling  it  were  (Iridlly  true,  that  we  have  no  ex- 
 perience, or  ocular  conviction,  of  the  poffibility  of  mira- 
 cles, which  is  by  no  means  to  be  taken  for  granted  ; 
 thoie  who  urge  this  objedion,  wouM  do  Vv'ell  to  confi- 
 der,  before  they  embark  their  unbelief  upon  it,  how  far 
 it  will  carry  them.  If,  becaufe  we  lee  no  miracles  novi'^, 
 we  may  fafely  argue,  that  there  never  were  any,  it  will 
 be  as  good  fenfe  to  hy,  Becaufe  we  now  fee  an  earth,  a 
 fun,  moon,  arid  ftars  ;  there  never  was  a  time,  when 
 they  were  not ;  there  never  was  a  time,  when  the 
 Divine  WifJom  governed  his  narural,  or  n^oral  fyflerri 
 othervvife  than  he  does  now  ;  there  are  no  different 
 ilates  of  things,  nor  any  different  exigencies  in  confe- 
 quence  of  thole  differences  ;  it  is  abfurd  to  conceive  of 
 any  change  in  any  one  particular,  or  in  the  general 
 oeconomy  of  the  univerfe. 
 
 The  account  we  have  in  the  New  Teftament,  of  the 
 daemoniacs  mir^culoufly  cured  by  our  Saviour,  ha^,  par- 
 ticularly, been  thought  to  pinch  fo  hard,  that  fome 
 have,  in  order  to  get  rid  of  the  difficulty,  attempted, 
 (in  my  humble  opinion,  altogether  unwarrantably)  to 
 explain  away  the  vi'hole  dodrine  of  poffeffion  by  fpirits. 
 How  comes  it,  fay  the  objectors,  that  we  read  of  iuch 
 numbers  of  perfons  in  ChnJVs  time  poffeffed  with  dcS- 
 mons ;  while  we  have  no  inftances  of  any  fuch  in  our 
 days  ?  To  this  fome  gentlemen,  whofe  abilities  I  fiiould 
 be  proud  to  equal,  and  of  whofe  lincere  belief  of 
 Chriftianity  I  have  no  more  doubt  than  of  my  own, 
 have  given  an  anfwer,  which  i  cannot  help  thinlcing 
 extremely  hurtful  to  the  caufe.  *'  The  Daemoniacs,'* 
 fay  thofe  gentlemen,  "  were  no  more  than  mad  people, 
 *'  who  v/er€  not  then,  nor  are  now,  poffeffed  with  fpirits, 
 "  any  more  than  other  difeafed  perfons.  I'heir  being 
 *'  fpoken  of  as  poffeffed,  was  no  other  than  a  common 
 *'  way  of  expreffing  their  difeafe  or  diftrefs ;  and  the 
 ^<  difpoffeffmg  them,   was  only  the  cure ;  which  was 
 
 "  iUii 
 
492  '  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 "  flill  miraculous."  But,  if  any  man  can  reconcile 
 this  notion  with  the  accounts  we  have  from  the  Evan- 
 gelifls,  he  muft  have  a  key,  which,  I  own,  I  am  not 
 mailer  of.  That  a  fet  of  grave  hiilorians,  facred  hillo- 
 rians,  fhould  fill  up  their  narration  with  accounts  of 
 what  w^as  faid  by  fuch  a  number  of  madmen ;  that 
 thofe  madmen  fhould  univerfally,  fpeak  to  better  pur- 
 pofe,  than  the  bulk  of  thofe,  who  were  in  their  fenfes  j 
 that  they  (hould  at  once,  the  firfl:  moment  they  caft 
 their  eyes  on  our  Saviour,  know  him  to  be  the  Chrijij 
 while  fome  even  of  his  own  difciples  hardly  knew  what 
 to  think  of  him  ;  that  our  Saviour  himfelf  fhould  enu- 
 merate his  calling  out  evil  fpirits,  befides  curing  dif- 
 eafes,  as  a  miracle  entirely  feparate,  and  of  its  own 
 kind,  and  mention  his  conqueil  over  Satan  and  his 
 wicked  fpirits,  as  a  mark  of  his  being  the  true  Mejfiah ; 
 that  he  fhould  allQV\^  his  difciples  to  continue  in  a  mif- 
 take  wdth  refpecl  to  a  point  of  fuch  confequenc-e  ;  that 
 he  fhould  advife  them  to  rejoice  more  in  the  thought 
 of  their  names  being  written  in  heaven,  than  in  their 
 Iiaving  received  power  over  fpirits,  without  telling 
 them  at  the  fame  time,  that  they  were  altogether  in  a 
 miftake  about  their  having  received  any  fuch  power; 
 that  we  fliould  be  gravely  told  that  the  madnefs  (not 
 the  fpirits)  which  poifeiTed  the  men  in  the  tombs,  in- 
 treated  our  Saviour  to  fend  it  into  the  herd  of  fwine  ;: 
 that  the  madnefs  (not  the  fpirit)  fhould  fo  often  intreat 
 and  adjure  him  not  to  fend  it  to  the  place  of  torment 
 before  the  time,  that  is,  probably,  before  the  laft  judg- 
 ment, or  perhaps  an  earlier  period  fpoken  of  in  the  Jlpo- 
 calypfe ;  that  all  thefe  folemn  accounts  fhould  be  given 
 in  fuqh  a  hiflory,  and  nothing  to  fiiew  them  to  be  figu- 
 rative, nor,  as  far  as  I  can  fee,  any  poflibility  of  at  all 
 underftanding  them  otherwife  than  literally ;  feems 
 wholly  unaccountable.  Nor  can  I  help  thinking  that 
 the  folution  is  incomparably  harder  to  grapple  with 
 than  the  difHculty.  I  deny  not,  that  there  are  paifages 
 in  the  gofpeJs,  where  a  difeafe  is  in  one  place  fpoken  of 
 as  an  infiidion  of  an  evil  fpirit,  and  in  another  as  a 
 mere  difeafe.  But  this  does  not  at  all  affedl  the  point 
 in  difpute  \  becaufe  the  queflion  is  not,  Whether  the 
 
 daemoniacu 
 
Revealed  Religion.)    HUMAN  NATURE.  493 
 
 daemoniacs  fpoken  of  in  the ,  gofpels  were  not  perfons 
 labouring  under  a  bodily  complaint  befides  the  poffeffioa 
 by  evil  fpirits ;  but,  Whether  the  people  faid  to  be 
 poiTefled,  were  at  all  polTeiied,  or  not.  If  a  perfon, 
 whcie  brain  wasdiftempered,  was  likewife  poffefled  with, 
 an  evil  fpirit,  he  might  with  fuflicient  propriety  be  fpoke 
 of  in  one  place  as  a  lunatic,  and  in  another  as  a  das- 
 moniac. 
 
 I  fnould  humbly  judge  it  a  much  more  eafy  and  na- 
 tural way  of  getting  over  this  difficulty,  to  proceed  upon 
 our  Saviour's  anfwer  to  his  difciples  concerning  the  man 
 born  blind.  "  Neither  did  this  man  lin,"  fays  he,  (in 
 any  extraordinary  manner)  "  nor  his  parents;  but  that 
 *'  the  works  of  God  might  be  made  manifeft  in  him,'* 
 If  the  whole  human  fpecies  are  offenders,  and  at  all 
 times  deferving  of  punilliment,  where  is  the  difficulty 
 of  conceiving,  that  it  might  be  fuitable  to  the  Divine 
 fcherae  of  government,  that  at  the  time  of  cur  Saviour's 
 appearance,  or  any  other  period,  a  greater  variety  of 
 punifhments  might  be  fuffered  to  fail  upon  a  guilty  race 
 of  beings,  and  afterwards,  through  the  Divine  m.ercy, 
 their  fuffisrings  might  be  abated.  Particularly,  is  there 
 not  even  a  propriety  in  God's  giving  to  Satan,  and  his 
 angels,  the  ancient  and  inveterate  oppofers  of  the  Mef- 
 'Jiab,  and  his  kingdom,  a  lliort  triumph  over  mankind, 
 in  order  to  render  the  Mejjiah''s  vicSory  over  him  more 
 confpicuous  and  more  glorious.  This  I  fay  on  the  fup- 
 polition,  that  polTeffion  by  evil  fpirits  was  altogether 
 peculiar  to  thofe  ancient  times ;  and  that  there  is  at 
 prefect  abfolutely  no  fuch  thing  in  any  country  in  the 
 world.  But,  before  any  perfon  can  pofitively  affirm, 
 that  there  is  no  fuch  thing  in  our  times  as  pofleffion  by 
 fpirits,  he  muft  be  fure  of  his  knowing  perfedly  the  na- 
 tures and  powers  of  fpirits,  and  be  able  to  Qievv  the  ab- 
 folute  impoflibility  of  a  fpirit's  having  communication 
 with  embodied  minds ;  and  mud  be  capable  of  fliew- 
 ing,  that  all  the  fymptoms  and  appearances  in  difeafes, 
 in  madnefs,  and  in  dreams,  are  utterly  inconfiftent  with 
 the  notion  of  fpirits  having  any  concern  with  our  fpe- 
 cies. Now  to  eftablifli  this  negative  will  be  fo  far  from 
 being  eafy  to  do,  that,  on  the  contrary,  univerfal  opi- 
 nion 
 
4^4  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 nion,  as  well  as  probability,  and  the  whole  current  of 
 revcJation,  are  on  the  oppoi'ite  fide.  Who  can  fay  that 
 it  is  abfiird  to  imagine  fuch  a  ftate  of  the  human  frame, 
 efpecrally  of  the  brain,  as  may  give  fpiritual  agents  an 
 opportunity  of  making  impreiiions  upon  the  mind? 
 Who  can  fay,  that  fleep  may  not  lay  the  mind  open  to 
 the  impreffions  of  foreign  beings:  and  that  waking  again 
 may  not,  by  fome  laws  of  Nature  unknown'  to  us,  ex- 
 clude rheir  commuriications  f  Who  can  fay,  that  part 
 (I  do  not  fay  ail)  of  the  fvmptoms  in  phrenetic,  epilep- 
 tic, lunatic,  and  melancholic  cales,  efpecially  in  the 
 more  vioknt  paroxyfms,  may  not  be  owmg  to  the  agency 
 of  fpirits?  Were  this  to  be  allowed,  it  would  not  at  all 
 vacate  the  ufe  of  medicines  or  dieting  For  if  the  ac- 
 cefs  of  fpirits  to  our  minds  depends  upon  the  ftate  of  our 
 bodies,  which  it  i^  no  way  abfurd  to  fuppo'e,  it  is  evi- 
 dent, an  alteration  in  the  ftate  of  the  body  may  prevent 
 their  accefs  to  our  minds,  and  deprive  them  of  all  power 
 over  us;  and  in  that  light  medicines  and  rrgimen  may 
 be  eftVdlual  c;vcn  againft  t'pirits^  fo  far  as  they  may  be 
 concerned,  by  being  fo  againft  the  natural  diforder  of 
 the  frame  occationed  merely  by  the  difeafe.  So  that 
 there  may,  for  any  thing  we  know  to  the  contrary,  be 
 dreams,  in  which  foreign  agents  may  be  concerned,  and. 
 there  may  be  others  occafioned  by  mere  fumes  of  indi- 
 geftion,  as  the  poet  fpeaks.  There  may  be  epileptics, 
 and  maniacs,  who  are  fo  from  mere  obftrudions  and  dif- 
 orders  in  the  brain  and  nerves;  and  there  may  at  this 
 day  be  others  attacked  by  thofe  maladies,  whofe  diftrefs 
 rnay  be  heightened  by  wicked  fpirits.  The  amazing 
 ftrength  of  even  women  and  youths,  in  fome  of  their 
 ■violent  firs,  feems  to  countenance  a  fufpicion,  that  lome- 
 thing  acls  in  them,  feparate  from  their  own  natural 
 force,  and  which  is  hardly  to  be  accounted  for  from 
 any  extraordinary  flow  of  animal  fpirits.  And  why  in 
 Scripture  we  fnould  have  fo  many  accounts  of  revela- 
 tions communicated  in  dreams;  from  whence  probably 
 the  Heathens,  ever  fincei7o;/z^r,  have  had  the  fame  notion; 
 fecms  unaccountable  upon  any  other  footing,  than  that 
 of  Uippoiing  tome  natural  mechanical  connection  be- 
 tween a  parlicuiar  ftate  of  the  bodily  frame,  and  com- 
 4  municatioi^ 
 
■Revealed Religion.)  HUMAN  NATURE.  49-5 
 
 munication  from  fcparate  fpirits.  The  behaviour  oC 
 the  prophet  in  the  Old  Teftament,  who  calls  for  an  in- 
 ftrmnent  of  niufic,  when  he  waits  for  an  infpiriition, 
 does  like  wife  countenance  the  fame  notion  ;  as  if  the 
 natural  effect  of  melody  was  to  open  the  way  to  the 
 mind  in  a  mechanical  manner,  in  order  to  the  more  full 
 admiffion  of  the  fupernatural  communications.  To 
 conclude  what  I  would  fay  on  the  difficulty  of  the  use- 
 nioniacs  in  the  gofpel-hiflory,  I  do  not  pretend  to  de- 
 cide which  is  the  true  folution.  All  1  contend  for  is, 
 That  to  explain  away  the  reality  of  the  prefence  of  fpi- 
 rits, is,  in  my  opinion,  unwarrantable  and  dangerous, 
 and  removing  a  lefs  difficulty  to  put  a  greater  in  its 
 place. 
 
 To  return  to  the  general  objeclion  I  was  upon  before 
 this  digreffion,  which  was,  That  we  have  no  reafon  to 
 believe  there  ever  were  any  miracles,  becaufe  we  have 
 no  experience  of  any  in  our  times ;  I  have  to  fay  far- 
 ther, that  the  objection  is  not  founded  upon  truth  ;  at 
 leafl:  not  upon  an  unqueftionable  truth.  For  many  per- 
 fons  of  good  judgment  have  declared  it  to  be  their  opi- 
 nion, that  among  the  innumerable  fidlitious  accounts  of 
 fupernatural  appearances  and  prodigies,  fome,  even  in 
 thefe  later  ages,  are  in  fuch  a  manner  authenticated, 
 that  to  deny  them  a  man  muft  deny  every  infor- 
 mation he  can  receive  by  any  means  whatever,  befides 
 his  own  immediate  fenfes,  which  does  not  feem  highly 
 rational.  Beiides,  are  not  the  completions  of  a  multi- 
 tude of  prophecies,  which  we  have  at  this  day  extant 
 before  our  eyes,  as  the  predicted  lafting  ruinous  ftate 
 oi Babylon2i\-\d.Tyre,V[\G.  total  fubjediion  to  the  lateft  ages, 
 of  the  once  illuflrious  kingdom  oi  Egypt,  the  remam- 
 ing  marks  of  the  general  deluge;  the  unequalled  and 
 unaccountable  condition  of  the  Jews  for  fo  long  a  pe- 
 riod of  time  ;  the  eftablifliment  and  continuance  to  the 
 end  of  the  world  of  the  Chriftian  religion, — are  not 
 ihefe  Handing  miracles  confpicuous  in  our  time  ?  But 
 of  this  more  elfewhere.  Upon  the  whole,  it  is  evident, 
 that  if  the  objection  was  founded  on  truth,  it  could  not 
 be  valid,  becaufe  different  periods  may  require  diflerent 
 meafures  of  government ;  and  to  fay  thri:  there  could 
 
 never 
 
^gS  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (BooklV. 
 
 never  have  been  any  miracles,  becaufe  there  are  none 
 now  (were  it  true  that  there  are  no  effeds  of  miracu- 
 lous interpOiition  remaining  in  our  times)  would  be  as 
 abfurd  as  to  fay,  that  the  axis  of  the  earth  muft  point 
 exadly  the  fame  way  it  did  two  thoufand  years  ago  ; 
 whereas  the  obfervutions  of  ancient  ailronoraers  have 
 put  the  doctrine  of  its  continual  change  of  diredion, 
 and  the  procelTion  of  the  equinoxes,  out  of  all  poffible 
 doubt.  But  if  the  objection  is  not  founded  upon  truth, 
 it  mull  of  courfe  fall  to  the  ground. 
 
 Prophecy  is  a  miraculous  hittory,  or  account  of  events 
 before  they  happen.  This  being  unqueltionabiy  above 
 the  reach  of  human  capacity,  it  is  a  proper  and  con- 
 vincing evidence,  that  the  revelation  in  which  it  is 
 given  is  not  a  human  production.  To  pretend  to  de- 
 termine the  foundation,  or.  the  modtiSy  of  the  prefcience 
 of  the  actions  of  free  agents,  may  be  wholly  out  of  our 
 reach  in  the  prcfent  ftate.  But' we  can  form  feme  con- 
 ception of  its  being  poffible,  in  fome  fuch  manner  as  the 
 following,  though  it  may  not  perhaps  be  fafe  to  af- 
 iirm,  that  the  following  is  a  true  account  of  it. 
 
 Do  we  not  commonly  fee  inftances  of  very  found 
 judgments  paiTed  by  wife  men  on  the  future  conduct  of 
 others  ?  May  we  not  fuppofe,  that  angels,  or  other  be- 
 ings of  fuperior  reach,  may  be  capable,  from  their  more 
 exa6t  knowledge  of  Human  Nature,  to  pafs  a  much 
 more  certain  judgment  of  ihe  future  behaviour  of  our 
 fpecies  ?  And  is  there  any  thing  lefs  to  be  expected, 
 than  that  He  who  made  us,  who  perfectly  knovv^s  our 
 frame,  who  immediately  perceives  the  moll  fecret  mo- 
 tions of  our  minds,  and  likevvife  forefees  with  the  utmoft 
 exactnefs,  and  without  a  poffibility  of  being  deceived, 
 the  whole  proceeding  and  concurrent  circumftances  in 
 which  any  of  his  creatures  can  at  any  future  time  be  en- 
 gaged (as  it  is  evident,  that  all  things  are  the  effecTr  of 
 his  directing  providence,  except  the  acftions  of  free  crea- 
 tures, to  whom  he  has  given  liberty  and  power  of  ac- 
 tion within  a  certain  fphere)  is  any  thing  lefs  to  be  ex- 
 peded,  I  fay,  than  that  our  infinitely  wife  Creator 
 Ihould  form  a  judgment,  fuitable  to  his  wifdom,  of  the 
 future  conduct  of  his  creatures?  And  to  imagine  that 
 a  this 
 
Revealed ReJlgmi. J       HUMAN  NATURE.  497 
 
 this  judgment  fliould  at  all  efFedi  the  future  behaviour 
 of  the  creature,  feems  as  groundlefs  as  to  conclude  that 
 one  created  being's  judging  of  the  future  conduct  of 
 another  fho-iKI  ad:ually  i  ifluence  and  over-rule  hiscon- 
 ducT:.  The  judgment  i?,  by  the  fuppofition,  formed 
 upon  the  char^ider  of  the  perfon  judged  of,  not  the 
 charadler  influenced  by  the  judgni'-nt  There  are  fome 
 palTages  of  Scripture,  which  feem  to  lead  us  to  this  man- 
 lier of  conception  of  this  difficult  pomt. 
 
 When  David  (i  Satn  xxii.  12.)  purfued  by  the  in- 
 veterate hatred  of  king  Smi/^  confulted  the  oracle,  whe- 
 ther, if  he  llaid  in  the  city  oi  Keilah,  the  people  of  that 
 city  would  give  him  up  to  his  enemy;  the  aniwer  he 
 received  was,  That  they  would.  It  is  plain  in  this 
 cafe,  that  the  Divine  prefcience  of  the  condud:  of  that 
 people^  in  the  event  oi  DavicVs  trulling  himielf  into 
 their  hands,  did  not  arife  from  God's  having  decreed 
 that  they  fliould  give  up  David :  for  if  it  had  been  de- 
 creed, it  muft  have  come  to  pafs.  Noi:  was  their  trea- 
 chery foreknown  becaufe  it  was  future:  For  it  was  not 
 future,  having  been  difappointed,  and  never  coming  to 
 be  executed.  Nor  could  it  be  eventually  predetermined, 
 that  in  cafe  o^  David's  flaying  in  the  city,  the  people 
 Ihould  give  him  up  mto  the  hands  of  his  enemy.  For 
 the  event  fhews,  that  it  was  not  the  Divine  fcheme  that 
 he  fliould  fall  into  the  fnare,  but  that  he  fliould  efcape 
 it.  There  feems  nothing  therefore  left  to  conclude, 
 but  that  the  Divine  prefcience  of  the  condud:  of  the 
 people  of  Keilah  was  founded  in  a  thorough  and  perfect 
 inlight  into  the  treacherous  character  of  that  people, 
 and  perhaps  the  knowledge  of  adual  defigns  formed 
 by  them  to  betray  David  into  the  hands  of  the 
 kingi 
 
 Again,  when  God  foretells  {Gen,  xviii.  19.)  that 
 Abraham  would  "  command  his  houfehold  after  him, 
 *'  and  they  would  keep  the  way  of  the  Lord-,"  he 
 plainly  fliews  upon  what  that  prefcience  was  grounded, 
 in  faying,  "  I  know  him,  that  he  will  command,  &c." 
 That  is,  I  fo  fully  know  his  zeal  and  affedion  for  the 
 true  God,  that  I  forefee  he  will  fet  up  and  fupport  my 
 worfliip  in  his  family,   and  enjoin  it  his  pofteiity,   in 
 
 K  k  oppo^tioj 
 
498  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  TnT. 
 
 oppofition  to  the  idolatry  and  polytheifai  which  pre- 
 vails among  the  heathen  around. 
 
 In  the  lame  manner,  m  the  New  Teftament,  though 
 the  apoltle  Paul  foretells,  that  there  ftiould  not  be  a 
 life  loll  of  thofe  who  (ailed  with  him,  notwirhdaniling 
 the  feverity  of  the  tempeft  ;  we  find  afterwards,  that 
 the  prediction  depended  upon  the  failors  flaying  in  the 
 fliip.  So  that  probably  what  was  forefeen  wa«,  that 
 the  fhip  and  crew  might  be  faved  by  the  (kill  of  the 
 failors  ;  and  that,  if  they  deferred  it,  it  muft  periQi. 
 
 Thefe,  and  other  pafTages,  which  might  be  quoted, 
 fcem  to  favour  the  preceding  attempt  to  folve  part  of 
 the  difficulty  of  the  Divine  prefcience  of  the  adions  of 
 free  creatures.  But  it  muft  ftill  be  confelTed,  that  the 
 fubjedl  is  invo'ved  in  fuch  intricacies  as  we  fliall  not  in 
 all  probability  be  able  to  clear  up  in  the  prefent  (^ate. 
 However  it  be,  we  are  not  immediately  concerned  with 
 any  thing  but  what  may  affedl  onr  doing  our  duty: 
 And  that  neither  prefcience,  nor  any  thing  elfe,  does 
 any  way  abridge  our  freedom  in  performing  that,  and 
 fo  fecuring  our  (inal  happinefs,  we  need  not  ufe  any 
 reafoning  to  be  convinced.  We  have  no  other  aflurance 
 that  we  exi(^,  than  feeling  ?  And  we  have  the  fame  for 
 our  freedom.  Every  man  feels,  that  in  all  his  actions, 
 whether  virtuous,  vicious,  or  indifferent,  he  is  natu- 
 rally free.  And  what  we  feel  we  cannot  bring  our- 
 felves  ferioufly  to  doubt  if  we  would,  though  we  may 
 cavil  at  any  thing. 
 
 That  many  parts  of  Scripture-prophecy,  not  yet  ac-» 
 compliflied,  are  obfcure,  and  of  doubtful  fignification; 
 fo  that  the  moft  learned  interpreters  are  divided  in  their 
 fentiments  about  what  may  be  intended  by  them,  muft 
 be  acknowledged.  And  that  this  is  no  more  than  might 
 have  been  expeded,  will  appear  by  confidering,  that 
 had  many  future  events  been  too  clearly  predicted,  the 
 obftinacy  of  men  might  have  rendered  miracles  necef- 
 fary  upon  every  occalion  to  bring  about  the  completion 
 of  them. 
 
 With  all  the  pretended  obfcurity  of  prophecy,  there 
 are  ftill  enough  of  unquefiionableand  confpicuous  com- 
 pletions to  fhew,  that  the  predidions  of  Scripture  were 
 
 given, 
 
kev.'alcd  RefiglofuJ     HUMAN  NATURE,  49^ 
 
 not  by  chance,  nor  by  bold  conj^cftare,  nor  by  partial 
 informations  from  evil  fj)iritSj  as  fome  have  thought  was 
 the  cafe  of  lb  ise  of  the  relponits  of  the  heathen  oracles, 
 but  by  One  who  faw  through  futurity  down  to  the  moft 
 diftant  periods,  from  the  time  of  their  being  given  out; 
 by  Him,  who  holds  the  reins  of  government  in  his  own 
 hand.  The  few  following  examples  may  ferve  as  a 
 proof  of  this, 
 
 Mofes,  in  his  account  of  the  deluge,  {Gen.  viii,  21, . 
 ^^.)  alTures  mankind,  in  the  name  of  God,  that  there 
 Ihoiild  never  be  another  univerfal  flood  ;  but  that  the 
 four  feaf.ms  of  the  year,  and  the  revoUnions  of  day  and 
 right,  fliould  go  on  without  interruption  to  the  end  of 
 the  world.  This  is  one  of  thofe  predidions  which 
 could  not  have  been  written  lince  the  event,  as  has  been 
 pretended,  in  derogation  of  fome  others ;  the  period 
 taken  in  by  it  not  being  yet  concluded.  And  coniider- 
 ing  the  extraordinary  wifdom  fo  confpicuousm  thecha- 
 rader  oi  Mofes,  it  does  not  feem  conceivable,  that  he, 
 who  expected  to  have  the  opinion  of  future  ages  as  an 
 infpired  perfon,  fhould,  without  Divine  Authority,  have 
 ventured  his  whole  charader  upon  fuch  an  affumation 
 as  this,  which  he  could  have  let  alone,  left  the  event 
 Ihould  have  deteded  him  for  an  impoftor.  For  how 
 could  he  know,  without  infpiration,  what  change  in  na- 
 ture might  happen,  which  might  totally  change  the 
 courfe  of  davs,  nights,  and  feafons  ?  How  could  he 
 know  that  there  might  not  happen  fome  fuch  revolution 
 in  his  own  times,  to  the  utter  ruin  of  his  character  as  a 
 prophet?  How  could  he  know  that  another  deluge 
 might  not  come  according  to  the  order  of  Nature;  and 
 as  he  had  publifhed  the  account  of  the  prefervation  of 
 Noah  and  his  family  in  the  ark,  was  it  not  natural  to 
 expect,  that  upon  the  leaft  appearance  of  fuch  another 
 judgment,  people  would  fet  about  making  arks  for  their 
 own  fafety,  vv'hich  would  have  proved  the  total  degra- 
 ding of  his  charader  as  a  prophet  and  a  lawgiver.  The 
 event  hitherto  has  anfwered  the  pred  clion,  and,  in  all 
 probability,  future  ages  will  fully  prove  it  to  have  been 
 given  from  God» 
 
 Kk  »  The 
 
5®o  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IT. 
 
 The  fame  wife  lawgiver  of  the  Jews  founded  a  very 
 important  part  of  that  conllitution  in  a  manner  extreme- 
 ly injudicious  and  improvident,  if  we  fuppofe  him  not 
 to  have  adled  upon  Divine  Authority.  What  I  refer  to 
 is  his  confining  the  pritllhood,  which  he  declares  to  be 
 everlartingtothefingle  i-dvaWy  oi Aaron.  Had  he  not  done 
 this  upon  Divine  authority,  he  mail  have  run  an  obvious 
 hazard  of  the  downfall  of  tlie  rehgious  polity  he  was  fet- 
 ting  up,  by  the  polfible  failure  of  male  iliue  mAnron''^  fa- 
 mily, who  had  only  two  ions,  Eleazar  and  Ithamar.  This 
 part  of  the  Mofaic  conttitution  may  therefore  be  confi- 
 dered  as  a  prediction,  that  in  a  courfe  of  feveral  thou- 
 fand  years,  there  fhomld  not  be  wanting  male  ifllie  pro- 
 ceeding from  one  lingle  family,  at  that  time  confilling 
 only  of  two  perfons.  Had  this  prediction  failed;  had 
 thefe  two  pexfons,  or  their  poiierity,  been  cut  off  by 
 natural  death,  or  by  an  enemy,  the  whole  Jtwijh  ceco- 
 nomy  mud  have  funk  for  want  of  a  priefthood,  and  all 
 the  prophecies  had  been  fallified,  or  had  never  been 
 given. 
 
 In  the  book  o'^  Jeremiah,  chap.  i.  and  following,  it 
 is  foretold,  that  Babylon,  the  grcateft  city  and  feat  of 
 the  greateft  empire  at  that  time  in  the  world,  fhould 
 not  only  be  deftroyed,  but  that  it  (hould  never  again  be 
 inhabited.  Which  laft  particular  no  man  of  prudence 
 or  judgment  would  have  ventured  his  credit  as  a  prophet 
 upon,  when  he  could  have  avoided  giving  any  fuch  pre- 
 di(ftion,  unlefs  he  had  been,  by  Divine  infpiration,  af- 
 fured  of  what  he  affirmed.  For  nothing  could  well  be 
 imagined  miOre  improbable,,  than  that  the  feat  of  the 
 empire  of  the  world  Ihould  be  deftroyed;  and  ftill  more 
 unlikely  was  it,  that  it  flxould  never  be  rebuilt.  But 
 the  event  fhews  the  truth  of  the  prophecy.  And  this 
 prediction  is  likewife  one  of  thofe  of  which  it  cannot  be 
 pretended  that  it  was  written  fince  the  event. 
 
 In  E'zek.  XXX.  13.  it  is  exprefsly  foretold,  that  there 
 fliould  be  "  no  more  a  prince  of  the  land  of  E^ypt/^ 
 No  man  of  judgment  would  have  ventured,  without 
 authority,  his  credit  upon  fuch  an  afleveration,  as  he 
 could  have  been  wholly  lilent  on  the  head.  For  who 
 could  know,  without  infpiration,  that  there  fliould  ne- 
 ver 
 
Revealed  Religion.)     HUMAN  NATURE.  50I 
 
 ver  more  a  prince,  a  native  q^  Egypt y  fit  on  the  throne 
 of  that  kingdom?  The  event  however  has  verified  the 
 prediction.  For  foon  after  the  time  when  it  was  given, 
 Egypt  was  made  a  province  of  the  Perfian  empire,  and 
 has  been  governed  ever  fince  by  foreigners,  having  been, 
 lince  the  fall  of  the  Perjian  monarchy,  fubject  fuccef- 
 iively  to  the  Mncedoiiians,  \.\\&  Saracens,' i\\e.  Mama- 
 lukes^  and  the  Turks,  who  poITefs  it  at  prefent.  This 
 is  one  of  thofe  prophecies  againft  which  it  cannot 
 be  objeded,  that  it  is  poffible  it  may  have  been  written 
 lince  the  event. 
 
 In  the  xxvith  chap,  of  Ezekiel  it  is  foretold,  that  the 
 great  and  powerful  city  of  Tyre,  at  that  time  the  general 
 refort  of  traders,  and  mart  of  the  world,  fliould  be  ut- 
 terly dejolate,  fo  as  to  be  a  place  for  the  Jpreading  of 
 jiets,  and  fliould  never  more  he  rebuilt.  This  prediction, 
 at  the  ti nne  it  was  given  fo  utterly  improbable,  has  beeii 
 litterally  fulfilled,  as  may  be  feen  in  MaundreWs  Voy- 
 age. And  Dr.  Pococke,  late  bifiiop  of  O^ffory,  fays,  in 
 his  Travels  in  the  Eaft,  that  as  he  failed  by  the  place 
 where  it  formerly  ilood,  he  favv  the  ruins  of  it  covered, 
 with  fifiiing  nets„ 
 
 The  Scriptures  of  both  old  and  new  Tefliament  are 
 full  of  prediclions  of  the  difperfion  of  the  Jews  for  a 
 long  period  of  time,  as  a  punilhment  for  their  vices,  and 
 of  their  being  at  laft  reftored  to  their  own  land  in  great 
 triumph  and  happinefs.  So  early  as  the  days  of  Mofes^ 
 whofe  aera  prophane  hifloiy  confirms  to  have  been  about 
 the  time  we  place  it,  viz.  about  three  thoufand  years 
 ago,  w^e  have  prediclions  of  the  ruin  which  was  to  come 
 upon  that  people  in  cafe  of  their  difobedience  (and 
 which  did  come  accordingly)  fo  clear  and  explicit,  that 
 no  writer  of  our  times,  with  the  help  of  hiftory,  and 
 particularly  Jofephus's  account  of  the  deftrudion  o'ije- 
 rufalem,  and  with  the  advantage  of  knowing  the  pre- 
 fent unhappy  condition  of  that  people  almoft  in  all  the 
 countries  of  the  world  but  our  own,  could  in  an  imita- 
 tion of  the  prophetic  fl:yle  defcribe  their  cafe  more  ex- 
 actly. In  the  xxviiith  chapter  of  Deuteronomy,  Mofes 
 threatens  their  difobedience  with  judgments  and  plag;ies 
 of  every  kind  j  particularly  that  they  fhould  "  become 
 
 Kk3         '  -^^ 
 
^502  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Rook  IV. 
 
 '*  an  aftonifhment,  a  proverb,  and  a  by-word  in  all  coun- 
 **  tries  •,"  that  **  an  enemy  (liould  coine  upon  theni  as| 
 "  fwiftly  as  eagles/'  probably  alluding  to  their  conquclt 
 by  the  Romans  \  that  they  Ihoukl,  in  the  feverity  ot  the 
 liege,  be  reduced  "  to  eat  their  very  children;"  that 
 they  fhould  be  "  fcattercd  through  all  countries  of  the 
 *'  world ;"  and  that  they  Ihould  be  forced  "  to  i'erve 
 *'  other  gods,"  as  they  accordingly  are,  in  the  counti  les 
 where  the  inquilrtion  is  eflablilhed,  obliged  to  wcrfliip 
 the  Hoft,  which  numbers  of  them  comply  with,  though 
 a  gfofs  vioiarion  of  the  i'econd  commandmenr,  to  avoid 
 failing  iiito  the  hands  of  thae  uiercil  fs  court ;  and  that 
 among  the  nations  wherr  they  (VioulJ  be  Icattered,  they 
 Ihou'd  "  hcive  no  eafe  nor  rett,"  but  a  trembling  *'  ht  ait,'' 
 and  ''  failirig  of  eyes,"  and  *'  forrovv,"  and  "  continual 
 "  ftar  for  their  lives,"  with  many  other  threatenings  to 
 the  fame  pnrpofe 
 
 It  is  alfo  foretold  by  the  following  prophets,  as  well 
 as  by  Mofss,  that  notwilhltanding  this  unexampled  dif- 
 perfion  of  the  Jtws  into  all  nations,  they  flioidd  be  iiill 
 preferved  a  diltinft  people  ;  that  God  "  will  not  deilroy 
 "  them  utterly,"  but  that  "  when  they  fliali  call  to  mit-.d 
 *'  among  ali  the  nations  whither  God  has  driven  them, 
 "  and  fhall  return  to  the  Lord,  he  will  turn  their  capti- 
 "  vity,  and  gather  them  from  all  the  nations — from  the 
 "  fartheft  parts  of  the  earth — even  in  the  latter  days.'* 
 That  "  though  he  makes  a  full  end  of  all  .-ther  nations," 
 (by  revolutions  and  mixtures  of  one  people  with  ano- 
 ther, which  renders  it  impoffible  to  diftinguifli  their 
 genuine  defcendants)  "  yet  he  will  not  make  a  lull  end 
 **  of  them-,"  but  *'  a  remnant  of  them"  Ihall  be  kept 
 unmixed  with  any  other  people, , and  *'  fliall  return  out 
 '*  of  all  countries  whither  God  has  diiven  them;''  that 
 he  will  *'  fet  up  an  eniign  for  the  nations,  and  will  af- 
 *'  femble  the  outcafts  of  Israel."  and  "  gather  toge-  . 
 "  ther  the  difperfed  of  Judab,'''*  (the  pofterity  of  the 
 ten  tribes,  at  prelent,  according  to  Scripture-prophecy, 
 undillinguifhed,  as  well  as  of  the  two)  "  from  the  fair 
 corners  of  the  earth  ;  which  {hews  that  the  return  here 
 fpoken  of,  is  not  that  from  the  BahyloniJIj  captivity ;  as  is 
 slfo  evident  from  its  being  S^ed  to  the  "  latter  days," 
 
 an4 
 
Revealed  Religion.)       HUMAN  NATURE.  5«3 
 
 and  froai  its  being  alfo  fpoken  of  by  the  prophet  i/fj/t^, 
 who  hved  after  the  return  from  the  feventy  years  capti- 
 vity of  Babylon,  and  by  Ezekiel,  who  lived  in  the  cap- 
 tivity itl'elf. 
 
 And  in  the  New  Tcftament  it  is  clearly  foretold  by 
 Chrifl,  that  Jerufalem  fhoald  be  deftroyed  with  fuch  de* 
 Itruclion  "  as  had  not  been  fince  the  beginning  of  the 
 **  world,  nor  ever  fliould  be.''  And  it  is  reaiarkab  ^ 
 that  he  again  exprefsly  mentions  the  "  eagles  ;"  in  ail 
 probability  to  point  out  the  Romans,  (who  bore  eagles 
 on  their  llandards)  for  the  executioners  of  the  Divine 
 Vengeance  on  that  perverfe  people.  yofepbus^sli\i\.'^ry 
 of  that  tragical  complication  of  events,  correfponds  ex- 
 actly to  our  Saviour's  prediftion  of  it.  He  alio  fore- 
 tells that  the  Jews  (hould  be  carried  "  captive  into  ail 
 **  nations,  and  that  Jerufiikm  fliould  be  trodden  down 
 *'■  of  the  Gentiles,  till  the  times  of  the  Gentiles  Ihould  b6 
 **  fulfilled.''  In  the  Epiflles  there  are  various  predic- 
 tions to  the  fame  purpofe.  And  we  accordingly  fee 
 that  people  to  this  day  preferved  diftind  from  all  others 
 in  the  world,  without  king,  without  country,  without 
 government  to  enforce  the  obfervance  of  their  ceremo- 
 nial law,  which  yet  they  keep  up  with  great  ftridnefs, 
 wherever  they  can. 
 
 That  through  all  the  changes,  which  have  happened 
 in  all  the  other  kingdoms  of  the  earth,  from  the  date  of 
 the  firft  of  thefe  predidions  to  the  prefent  time  (a  pe- 
 riod of  more  than  three  tlioufand  years)  that  people 
 Ihould  have  had  exadly  the  fortune  that  was  foretold 
 them  by  Mofes  ;  and  that  they  fhould  now  in  fo  won- 
 derful and  unexampled  a  manner  be  preferved  unmixed 
 with,  and  ealily  diftinguifliable  from,  the  people  of  all 
 the  countries  where  they  are  fcattered ;  and  this  in 
 fpiteof  the  cruel  ufage  they  have  had  in  moft  countries, 
 which  might  have  been  expedled  to  have  driven  them 
 long  ago  to  give  up  their  religion,  and  mix  with  the 
 people  among  whom  they  lived  ;  and  that  there  fhould 
 nothing  in  this  long  courie  of  years  have  happened,  to 
 render  it  impoffible,  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  it  fhould 
 be  probable,  that  the  remaining  prediction  of  their  re- 
 turn to  their  own  land,   will  be  accomplilhed,  as  well 
 
 K  k  4  ae 
 
504  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV 
 
 as  the  reft ;  this  gives,  upon  the  whole,  fuch  a  view, 
 as  is  not  to  be  equalled  by  any  thing  elfe  in  the 
 world  ;  the  moft  amazing  of  all  phaenomena  1  and 
 fhews  that  prophecy  is  given  by  authority  from  the 
 fame  by  whom  the  government  of  the  world  is  carried 
 on  ;  fince  none  but  He,  or  whom  he  authorifes,  could 
 thus  declare  the  end  from  beginning. 
 
 No  one  can  imagine  the  following  predidions  to  be 
 applicable  to  any  other  than  the  MeJJlah.  Gen,  iii.  15, 
 the  lirlt  prediction  is  given  of  him,  'viz.  That  "the 
 "  Seed  of  the  woman  fhould  bruile  the  head  of  the  fer- 
 "  pent."  None  but  Chnjl  could  propeily  be  called 
 *'  the  Seed  of  the  woman."  For  he  alone  was  born  of 
 a  w^oman  without  concurrence  of  man.  Nor  did  any 
 one  but  he  eflfedually  briiife  the  head  of  the  ferpent, 
 or  deftroy  the  power  of  Satan.  Again,  he  is  feveral 
 different  times  afterwards  promifed  to  Abraham,  as  he 
 in  whom  **  all  the  families  of  the  earth  (hould  be 
 **  bleffed."  Now,  there  never  was  any  fingief  perfon, 
 befides  Chrijl,  who  was  a  bleffing  to  the  "  whole 
 "  world."  Gen.  xlix.  it  is  foreroid  that  the  "  fceptre 
 **  fhould  not  depart  from,  Judah,  till  Shiloh  fhould 
 *'  come,"  and  that  "  to  him  ihould  be  the  gathering  of 
 "  the  people  "  It  is  known,  that  the  Jews  became 
 fubjedl  to  the  Romans  about  the  time  of  the  appearance 
 of  Chriji,  And  the  gathering  of  the  people  lo  him  i§ 
 very  confpicuous  in  the  general  diffulion  of  his  religion 
 over  moft  parts  of  the  world.  The  words  of  Mofer, 
 Det/t.  xviii.  15.  are  applicable  to  none  but  ChriJI  only. 
 *"  The  Lord  fhall  raife  up  unto  thee  a  Prophet,  from  the 
 *'  midfl  of  thee,  like  unto  me."  But  no  Prophet,  Prieft-, 
 or  King,  ever  rofe  among  that  people  like  to  Mofes,  but 
 Chriji  only.  For  from  Mofes  to  ChriJl^  no  lawgiver 
 arofe  among  the  Jews  ;  their  ftate  being  fixed  by  God 
 himfelf,  to  continue  unchanged  till  the  appearance  of 
 the  Mejftah. 
 
 The  prediftions  of  Ifaiah  xi.  i,  3,  6,  &-c.  are  ftill 
 clearer,  "  Unto  us  a  child  is  born  ;  unto  us  a  fon  is 
 *'  given  ;  and  the  government  fhall  be  upon  his  flioul- 
 *'  ders.  His  name  fhall  be  called  Wonderful,  Coun- 
 <*  felior,  the  mighty  God,  the  everlafting  Father,  thq 
 
 *'  Princq 
 
Revealed  Religion.;        HUMAN  NATURE.  505 
 
 "  Prince  of  peace."  [Which  titles  are  fbmewhat  differ- 
 ent in  the  Septuagint  tranllation,  but  fuch  as  are  appli- 
 cable to  none  but  Chrijl  only  ]  "  Of  the  increafe  of 
 **  his  government  and  peace  there  ftiall  be  no  end,  upon 
 *•  the  throne  of  David^  and  his  kingdom,  to  order  and 
 "  ertablifli  it  with  judgment,  and  juftice  from  hence- 
 ^^  forth  even  for  ever."  And  in  the  xliii.  chap.  "  Be- 
 "  hold  nay  fervant— mine  eled:,  in  whom  my  foul  de- 
 "  lighteth.  I  have  put  my  fpirit  upon  him — he  fliall 
 "  fet  judgment  in  the  earth  ;  and  the  ifles  Ihall  v^ait  for 
 "  his  law." 
 
 Nor  are  thofe  of  Jeremiah  lefs  plainly  applicable  to 
 Chrijl^  and  to  him  only.  Chap,  xxiii.  and  xxxiii.  **  I 
 "  will  raiie  unto  David  a  righteous  Branch,  and  a  King 
 *'  fliall  reign  and  profper,  and  Ihall  execute  judgment 
 *'  and  JLiltice  in  the  earth.  And  this  is  his  name, 
 "  whereby  he  Ihall  be  called,  The  Lord  ouii  righte- 
 
 **  OUSNESS." 
 
 And  in  Ezekiel  xxxiv.  &c.  **  |  will  fet  up  one  fhep- 
 *'  herd  over  them,"  (a  fhepherd  of  a  people  always 
 lignities  a  prince  or  ruler)  "  and  he  fliall  feed  them, 
 *'  even  my  krw^nt  David  /^  plainly  not  David  the  fon 
 of  JeJ/e ;  he  having  been  dead  long  before  EzekiePs 
 time,  *'  And  I  vvill  make  with  them  a  covenant  of 
 *'  peace,"  &c.  One  King  "  f^^^H  be  king  over  them  all; 
 **  neither  fliall  they  defile  themfelves  any  more  with 
 "  their  idols." 
 
 It  is  predicted  by  Haggaiy  that  "  the  Defire  of  all 
 "  nations  fliould  come ;"  the  Shilohf  tranllated  by  the 
 Seventy,  the  "accompliflimentof  promifes."  How  much 
 the  coming  of  the  MeJJiah  was  the  defire  of  all  nations 
 is  fhewn  above,  and  how  properly  Chrijl  may  be  called 
 the  accomplifhment  of  promifes,  is  known  to  all,  who 
 know  his  religion. 
 
 Not  lefs  exprefs,  than  magnificent,  is  the  predidion 
 oi  Daniel,  chap.  vii.  "  I  law  in  the  night  vifions,  and 
 ^'  behold  one,  like  the  Son  of  Man,  came  with  the 
 *'  clouds  of  heaven,  and  came  to  the  Ancient  of  Days, 
 ^'  and  they  brought  him  near  before  him.  And  there 
 f*  was  given  him  dominion,  and  glory,  and  a  kingdom, 
 f^  that  all  people,  nations,  and  languages  Ihould  ftrve 
 
 "  him. 
 
f66  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  ^ 
 
 •*  him.  His  dominion  is  an  everlafting  dominion  ;  and 
 **  his  kingdom  tliat  which  fliall  not  be  deftroyed."  Of 
 the  tide,  "  Son  of  man,"  which  is  found  twice  or  thrice 
 in  the  Old  Teftament,  it  niay  be  curforiJy  remarked, 
 that  our  Saviour  feems  to  have  been  particularly  pleafed 
 with  if,  as  that  name  is  given  him  in  the  ancient  Scrip- 
 tures ;  as  it  exprelTcs  his  facied  office  of  the  deliverer 
 of  mankind,  and  f.iiis  the  glorious  humiliation  he  volun^ 
 tariiy  condtfcended  to,  in  affuming  the  Human  Nature, 
 and  palTing  a  life  on  earth  for  the  important  purpofe  of 
 reiloiing  a  ruined  world. 
 
 In  the  prophecies  of  Ifaiab,  Ezekie/,  and  Malacbi,  he 
 is  fpoken  of  as  he  that  was  to  be  the  "  light  of  the 
 **  Gentiles^  their  defire,  their  ruler;'"  and  that  through 
 him  the  '*  name  of  God  (Ik  uid  be  great  among  the 
 *•  Heathen."  Nor  is  there  any  one  to  whom  thefe 
 characters  can  be  applied,  but  Chrijl  only. 
 
 The  important  circumilance  of  his  giving  his  life  for 
 the  world  is  clearly  held  forth  by  the  Prophets  Daniel 
 and  Ifaiah,  the  former  of  which  fpeaks  of  him  as  to  ap- 
 pear ''  feven  weeks,"  that  is  forty-nine  years,  takingj^ 
 (according  to  the  prophetic  ftyle,  ■  a  day  for  a  year) 
 "  from  the  going  forth  of  the  commandment  to  rertore 
 *'  and  build  Jerufakmy''  and  that  he  (hould  be  "  cut 
 "oft;  but  not  for  himfelf."  And  the  latter  fays  of 
 him  ;  "  Surely  he  hath  born  our  griefs — he  was  wound- 
 '*  ed  for  our  tranfgreffions ;  he  was  bruifed  for  our  ini- 
 *'  quities.  He  is  brought  as  a  lamb  to  the  ilaughter  j 
 **  and  as  a  (beep  before  her  fliearers  is  dumb,  fo  he  open- 
 *'  etb  not  his  mouth.  For  the  tranfgreffions  of  my  peo- 
 *'  pie  was  he  rtricken.  And  he  made  his  grave  with 
 "  the  wicked,  and  with  the  rich  in  his  death."  Which 
 •words  are  fufpedled  to  be  tranfpofed,  and  that  his  death 
 ought  to  have  been  put  with  the  wicked,  and  his  grave 
 with  the  rich  ;  as  he  was  crucilied  between  two  thieves^ 
 and  buried  by  Joftph  of  Arimatbaay  who  was  rich. 
 **  He  was  numbered  with  the  tranfgreflbrs,  and  bare 
 **  the  fin  of  many,  and  made  interceffion  for  linners." 
 
 It  is  foretold  by  Ifaiah,  chap.  xxxv.  that  the  Mejfuih 
 Ihould  perform  many  great  and  beneficial  miracles ; 
 that    "  the  eyes  of  the  blind  Ihould  be  opened  \  and 
 
 "  tha 
 
Revealed  Religlcn.)    HUMAN   NATURE.  50^ 
 
 **  the  ears  of  the  deaf  unflopped ;  tlrat  the  lame  man 
 "  fliouid  leap  as  an  hart,  and  the  tongue  of  the  dumb 
 "  ling."  Many  minute  circumftances  are  foretold  of 
 him,  fuch  as  his  being  of  the  tribe  oi  Judah  and  feed  of 
 David;  that  he  Qiould  be  born  diiBetblcbeni,  (Mic'.v.  2.) 
 that  he  fliouid  ride  in  humble  triumph  into  ihe  city  of 
 jerufalem,  ( Zjuch.  ix.  9.)  that  he  ihouid  be  fuld  for 
 thirty  pieces  of  iilver,  (ibid  xi.  12.)  that  he  fliouid  be 
 fcourged,  bulFv^tted,  and  fpit  upon,  (Ifci.  1.  6.)  that  his 
 hands  and  feet  ihouid  be  pierced,  (Pfal.  xxiv.  16.) 
 that  he  fhould  be  numbered  among  malefadors, 
 (Ifa.  iiii.  12.)  that  he  fliouid  have  gall  and  vinegar 
 offered  him  to  drink,  (Pjal  Ixix.  21.)  that  they  who 
 faw  him  crucified,  fliouki  mock  at  his  trufting  in  God, 
 (Pfal.  xxii.  8.)  that  the  folJiers  fliouid  call  lots  for  his 
 garments,  (ibid.  18)  that  he  Ihould  be  buried  by  a 
 rich  man,  {Tja.  liii.  9.)  and  that  he  fliouid  not  fee  cor- 
 ruption, {Pfal.  xvi.  10.)  The  completion' of  all  which 
 predictions  in  Cbrijl  is  vifible  in  his  Hiitory  in  the  New 
 Teftament. 
 
 To  what  charader  befides  that  of  Chrijf,  are  all  thefe 
 predictions  applicable  ?  And  are  they  not  all  flridly  ap- 
 plicable to  Chrijlf  and  clearly  fulfilled  m  him?  Siiouid 
 now  a  let  of  fatirical,  or  enigmatical  writmgs  be  pro- 
 pofed  to  be  explained ;  who  would  htlitate  whether 
 the  true  fenfe,  and  proper  application  of  them  was  dif- 
 Govered,  when  a  fenfe  was  found,  which  tallied  exadly 
 in  every  particular?  who  would  imagine  thofe  writings 
 to  have  been  compoicd  by  chance,,  v^^hich  fnewed  io 
 much  regularity  and  ccnnedtion,  and  which  luited  fo 
 well  the  propofed  explication  of  them  ? 
 
 The  predidiions  which  Chriji  himfelf  delivered  con- 
 cerning events  that  were  to  happen  after  his  time,  were 
 confirmations  no  lefs  authentic  of  the  Divine  Authority 
 of  his  doctrine,  thttn  the  completion  in  him,  of  the  pro- 
 phecies given  of  old.  Befides  thofe  he  gave  of  his  owa 
 death,  with  the  particular  circumflances  of  it ;  of  the 
 behaviour  of  his  difciples  on  that  occafion  ;  of  the  de- 
 fcent  of  the  Holy  Ghoft,  and  the  miraculous  powers  to 
 ^e  communicated  to  his  difciples  ;  beiides  thefe,  he 
 gave  feme,  which  cannot  be  pretended  to  have  been 
 "  forged 
 
$o«  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 forged  after  the  events,  as  has  been  alleged  of  feme  of 
 the  Scripture  prophecies.  His  predidions  of  the  de- 
 llruction  of  Jeriifaleni^  and  difperlion,  for  a  very  long 
 period,  of  the  Jews  into  all  nations,  but  fo  as  they 
 fhoLild  be  prelerved  diflind:  from  all  other  people  in 
 order  to  their  refloration  ;  of  the  general  prevaiency  of 
 his  religion  over  the  world,  and  its  continuance  to  all 
 ages ;  and  of  the  raifchiefs,  confequent  upon  the  per- 
 yerfion  of  it ;  thefe  are  events,  which  at  that  time  were 
 to  the  higheft  degree  improbable.  It  was  altogether 
 needlefs  for  him  to  rifk  his  credit  upon  the  comple- 
 tion of  thefe  predictions ;  nor  is  it  to  be  fuppofed,  a  per- 
 fon  of  his  wifdom  would  have  needlefsly  hazarded  the 
 confutation  of  his  whole  fcheme  in  fuch  a  manner,  if  he 
 had  not  been  certain  that  what  he  foretold  would  be 
 fully  accompliflied,  and  that  though  heaven  and  earth 
 were  to  pafs  away,  his  word  fhould  (land,  as  the  event 
 hitherto  has  fufficiently  fhewn. 
 
 That  a  power  of  fo  ,e?itraordinary  a  kind,  and  whicl^ 
 ihould  produce  fuch  important  effects,  efpecially  upon 
 the  religious  flate  of  the  world,  as  Popery  has  done, 
 fhould  be  predided  in  Scripture,  was  reafonably  to  be 
 expeded.  Accordingly  by  Daniel,  who  flourifhed  near 
 three  thoufand  years  ago,  it  is  foretold,  chap.  vii.  19. 
 that  there  fhould  be  a  tyrannical  poAver,  which  fhould 
 *'  wear  out  the  faints  of  the  Moil  High,"  and  that  they 
 fhould  **  be  given  into  his  hands  until  a  time,  and  times, 
 **  and  the  dividing  of  times,"  that  is  a  year,  and  two 
 years,  and  half  a  year,  which  give  one  thoufand  two 
 hundred  and  fixty  days,  which  in  prophetic  llyle  figni-. 
 lies  fo  many  years.  This  period  is  alfo  mentioned  in 
 five  different  predictions  in  the  New  Tellament.  This 
 power  is  fpoken  of,  verfe  23.  as  a  kingdom  "  diffcicnt 
 from  all  before  it."  And  fo  indeed  it  is ;  being  a  reli- 
 gioui  tyranny,  or  fecular  kingdom  founded  on  a  pre- 
 tence of  religion.  It  is  reprefented  as  a  nionfter  with 
 "  teeth  of  iron,"  and  *'  claws  of  brafs ;"  and  very  pro- 
 perly ;  for  it  is  the  charader  of  that  mercilefs  religion 
 to  dt  Itroy  all  who  oppofe  it,  and  to  endeavour  (by 
 driving  thofe  who  are  fo  unhappy  as  to  fall  under  its 
 tyranny  to  make  Ihipwreck  of  confcience)  to  danin  all 
 
 whom 
 
Revealed  Religion.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  555^ 
 
 whom  it  deftroys.  It  is  fpoken  of  as  "  devouring, 
 "  {tamping  in  pieces,"  and  laying  walle  the  whole 
 world,  as  '*  changing  times  and  laws,"  and  "  (peaking 
 *'  great  words  againft  the  Moil  High."  All  which 
 fuit  the  blood-thirlty  cruelty,  the  unequalled  arrogance, . 
 and  blafphemous  impiety  of  the  bifliops  and  church  of 
 Ro7ne  to  the  greateft  exadlnefs.  It  is  there  faid,  that 
 he  fhould  not  "  regard  the  dtiire  of  women  ;''  which 
 plainly  points  out  the  prohibition  of  marriage  ;  that 
 he  fhould  "  honour  gods-protetSors,"  that  is,  tutelar 
 faints,  and  **  a  god,  whom  his  fathers  knew  not,"  a 
 wafer-god,  of  which  god  fome  thoufands  are  made  in 
 one  day  by  the  priefts,  and  eaten,  and  digefted  by  the 
 people.     See  alfo  i  Tiui.  iv. 
 
 In  the  Apocalypfe,  chap.  xi.  xii-  &c.  it  is  copiouHy 
 defcribed,  where  it  is  reprefented  under  the  appearance 
 of  a  monfter,  or  "  wild  beaft,"  whofe  "  feven  heads" 
 lignify,  as  afterwards  explained,  the  feven  hills  upon 
 which  Rojne  was  built,  and  "  ten  horns"  the  ten  king- 
 doms, into  which  the  Rornan  tva-<^{xt  was  divided,  whofe 
 *'  blafphemous  names"  are  notorious,  as  of  God's  vice- 
 gerant,  Our  lord  god  the  pope.  Vice-god,  and  the  like, 
 who  "  wars  with  the  faints,  and  overcomes  them;  who 
 "  receives  power  over  the  nations,"  and  is  "  worlhip- 
 *'  ped"  by  them.  The  fame  is  alfo  afterwards  repre- 
 fented under  the  character  of  the  "  great  harlot,"  or 
 idolatrefs,  with  whom  the  "  kings  of  the  earth  have 
 "  committed  fornication,"  that  is  the  idolatry  of  wor- 
 fhipping  the  images  of  faints,  and  kneeling  to  the  Hod. 
 She  is  afterwards  reprefented  as  "  drunk  with  the 
 "  blood"  of  the  martyrs  of  J  ejus.  The  kings  of  the 
 earth  are  afterwards  mentioned  as  "  giving  their  power 
 "  to  the  monfter,"  as  it  is  notorious  that  moft  of  the 
 kings  in  Europe  acknowledged  the  pope  for  their  lord 
 god,  and  held  their  crow^ns  of  him,  as  fome  of  them  do 
 Hill,  The  fame  power  is  likewife  held  forth  under  the 
 figure  of  a  great  city,  the  feat  of  wealth,  luxury,  plea- 
 fure,  riches,  and  commerce,  one  article  of  v^/hich  com- 
 merce,  peculiar  to  Rome  papal,  is  her  trade  in  the 
 "  fouls  of  men." 
 
 And 
 
$ia  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IT. 
 
 And  by  the  apoftle  Paul  this  fatal  delufion  is  called 
 Tbemanofftn,  or  the  very  abftrdd  and quinteffcncec^f  ini- 
 quity,  a  charadter   fit  only  for  the   popifli    religion,    as 
 it  alone  of  all  religions  contains   an    allemblage  of    all 
 that   is   moft   exquifiteiy    wicked,    beyond    what  could 
 have  been  thought  within  the  reach  of  human   inven- 
 tion unaifift-d  by  daemons.     Of  w  hich  the  infernal  court 
 of  inquiiition  is  a  pregnant  proof;  where  cruelty,   the 
 difpofition  the  moft  oppolite  to  all   good,   is  carried   to 
 that  diabolical  excrfs,  that  few  hearts  are  hard  enough 
 to  bear  the  mere  defcription  of  it  in  a  book.     The  pro- 
 priety of  giving  the  appellation  of  The  man  of  Jin,   to 
 the  Romifh   impoftvire,  appears  from  confidering,   that 
 it  has  had  the  peculiar  curled  art  not  only  to  turn  the 
 mildeil  of  all  religions  into  a  fcene  of  the  moft  horrible 
 barbarity  ;   but  to  make  the  moll  pure  and  heavenly 
 fyllem  ot  doctrines  and  laws,   which  ever  vvere,  or  will 
 be,  given   to   men,    an    authority   for  eflablifhing   for 
 points  of  faith  the  moft  hideous  abfurdities,   and  con- 
 traditflions  to  common   fenfe  ;  and   for  licenfing  every 
 abominable   wickednefs  that  has  ever  been  thought  of 
 or  pradifed.     Infomuch,  that  the  fixed  rates  of  abfolu- 
 tion,  for  the  moft  horrid  and  unnatural  vices,  ftand  ap- 
 pointed by  their  popes,  and  publifhed  in  different  edi- 
 tions.    By  which  means,  the  great  defign  of  Chriftianity, 
 "which  was  to  teach  men,  to  deny  ungodlinejs  and  worldly 
 lufts^  and  to  live  foberly,  righteoujly,  and  godly ^  is  defeated 
 among  the  deluded  profelytes  to  that  infamous  religion. 
 Tor  inftead  of  this,  popery  teaches,  that  any  man,   who 
 pays  handfomely,  may  have  an  indulgence  lor  any  num- 
 ber of  years  to  live  in  all  manner  of  abominable  impiety, 
 profanenefs,  andimpurity.   Isnotthis  the  T'/^d'/yzn^q/y/w  .^ 
 Whoever  would  fee  how   exadly  the  Scripture  pre- 
 di'ftions  are  fuited  to  reprefent  this  diabolical  delufion, 
 has  onlv  to  read  the  hiftories  of  popery,  and  accounts  of 
 the  inquifition.     There  he  will  find  what  hideous  ravage 
 has   been  made  by   it   in  different  countries.      Witnefs 
 their  infamous  croifades;  the  maffacres  of  the  Waldenfes 
 and   Albigenf'es,  of  whom   almoft  a  million   were   rec- 
 koned to  ae  fliin.    In  thirty  years  from  the  founding  of 
 the  order  of  the  JefuitSf  above  eight  hundred  thoufand 
 4  proteilants 
 
Xewaled Religion.)      HUMAN  NATURE.  513 
 
 proteflants  were  put  to  death  by  the  hand  of  the  execu- 
 tioner only.  The  blooody  butchering  duke  of  Alva 
 ufed  to  make  it  his  boafl  of  having  cutoff  in  a  few  years 
 thirty  thoufand  protellants  in  the  Netherlands.  The 
 deflruclion  of  helplefs  vidims  facrificed  to  that  infernal 
 fury,  the  inquiiition,  in  one  period  of  thirty  years,  js 
 reckoned  at  one  hundred  and  fifty  thoufand.  Is  not 
 this  dreadful  and  wide-wafting  mifchief,  this  terror 
 of  human  nature,  this  hell  on  earth,  properly  repre- 
 fented  as  a  monfter,  or  wild  bealt,  wirh  iron  teeth 
 to  devour  and  deftroy,  as  drunk  with  blood,  and 
 afpiring  to  an  authority  above  all  that  is  called  God, 
 or  is  vvorfhipped,  that  is,  above  all  other  power  and  go- 
 vernment, challenging  the  privilege  of  the  grand  tyrant 
 and  deftroyer  ? 
 
 Thefe  are  only  a  few  among  many  inftances  of  the 
 unequalled  horrors  of  this  fatal  deluhon,  and  of  the  ex- 
 aclnefs  of  the  Scripture  predidions,  which  can  be  ap- 
 plied to  nothing  elfe,  that  ever  was  heard  of  upon  earth. 
 And  if  in  the  days  of  the  authors  of  the  above  predic- 
 tions, there  was  nothing  known  among  mankind,  which 
 might  give  the  hint  of  fuch  a  power  as  that  of  Anti- 
 chriil,  or  popery  ;  and  if  no  account  of  this  pouter  ia 
 our  times,  when  it  is  fo  well  known,  can  in  prophetic 
 ftyle  more  clearly  defcribe  it,  than  we  find  it  repre- 
 fented  in  the  predictions  of  Scripture,  let  the  oppofers 
 of  prophecy  account  for  this  wonderful  agreement 
 between  the  predi^ion  and  the  completion,  as  they 
 beft  can. 
 
 Thefe  are  a  fzWy  among  almoft  innumerable  predic- 
 tions of  future  events,  of  which  holy  Scripture  is  full. 
 And,  as  thefe  fhew  themfelves  clearly  to  be  genuine 
 revelations  from  God  ;  the  others  contained  in  the  fj-uiie 
 writings  may  in  reafon  be  fuppofed  to  be  of  the  fame 
 original,  thjough  the  times  when  they  were  given,  and 
 the  exacflnefs  of  their  refpedive  completions,  (liould  be 
 more  fubjed:  to  cavil,  than  thefe  here  quoted.  And  the 
 oppofers  of  the  revelation,  in  which  thefe  predictions  are 
 •contained,  are  in  reafon  obliged  to  give  fome  plaufible 
 account,  how  they  came  there,  if  not  by  Divine  in- 
 fpiration. 
 
 Let 
 
Si«  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 Let  Chriftianity  have  been  introduced  into  the  world 
 when  it  would,  it  is  impoffibie  to  give  any  rational  or 
 fatisfying  account  of  its  prevalence  and  eftablifhmenr, 
 but  its  being  a  Divine  inrtiturion.  For  fuppofing  it 
 forged  in  any  age  before  or  fince  the  received  date 
 of  about  feventeen  hundred  years  ago,  it  will  be 
 equally  impoffibie  to  conceive  how  it  Ihould  come 
 to  pafs  upon  mankind,  if  it  was  a  fidion.  The  Chrif- 
 tian  religion  has  been  eflablifhed  upon  the  ruins  of 
 the  national  religion  of  every  country,  in  which  it  has 
 been  received.  It  had  theiefore  the  united  forces  of 
 regal  power,  facerdotal  craft,  and  popular  fuperftition 
 to  bear  down,  before  it  could  get  footing  m  the  world. 
 Its  charader  is  diredtly  oppolite  to  the  fordid  views  and 
 fecular  interefts  of  mankind,  and  acceptable  to  none  but 
 virtuous  and  elevated  minds,  which  m  all  ages  and  na- 
 tions have  ever  been  comparatively  a  very  fmall  num- 
 ber of  the  fpecies,  and  not  fit,  nor  difpofed  to  ftruggle" 
 with,  much  lefs  likely  to  get  the  better  of  the  majority, 
 fo  as  to  cram  a  fet  of  faliehoods  down  their  throats. 
 
 All  the  falfe  fchemes  of  religion,  which  ever  pre- 
 Tailed  in  the  world,  have  coine  to  be  eftabliflied  either 
 by  the  multitude's  being  led  to  embrace  them  by  craft,  or 
 driven  to  it  by  force.  That  Chriftianity  was  eftablifhed 
 by  craft,  is  on  all  accounts  incredible,  and  particularly 
 from  confidering  its  character,  which  is  altogether  fe- 
 parate  from  worldly  views,  or  any  kind  of  motives, 
 which  might  incline  men  to  deceive  ;  and  efpecially 
 from  its  letting  up  upon  the  foot  of  the  moft  ftridt  in- 
 tegrity, of  commanding  all  its  votaries  to  avoid  even  the 
 lead  appearance  of  evii,  and  by  no  means  to  think  of 
 doing  evil  for  the  fake  of  any  poflible  good  confequence. 
 Such  precepts  as  thefe  would  by  no  means  have  fuited 
 a  fcheme  calculated  for  deceiving  mankind.  On  the 
 contrary,  we  always  find  the  great  dodrine  preached 
 up  by  impoftors  is,  Zeal  for  the  caufe,  ruther  than  for 
 the  truth.  This  appears  dreadfully  confpicuous  in  the 
 bloody  catalogue  of  fufferers,  who  have  fallen  a  lacri- 
 fice  to  the  Alahometan  and  popifti  delufions.  The  op- 
 pofers  of  Chriftianity  are  obliged,  if  they  will  fhew 
 themfelves  reafoners,  to  give  fome  rational  account  of 
 
 the 
 
Revealed  Religion. )        HUMAN  NATURE.  515 
 
 the  eflablifliQient  of  it,  upon  the  fiippofition  of  its 
 being  falfe  They  are  in  leafon  obligrd  to  fhew  hoW 
 ia  religion  requiring  the  rrioft  ftridt  purity  of  heart  and 
 feverity  of  manners,  the  mortifying  of  inordinate  lufts 
 aad  inclinations,  the  avoiding  every  appearance  of  evil, 
 and  encountering  all  manner  of  difficulties,  and  even 
 death  itfelf,  if  required,  in  teftimony  for  truth;  they 
 ought  to  (hew  how  fuch  a  religion  could  have  been 
 eftablifhed  in  the  world  by  fuch  feemirtgly  unpromising 
 and  inadequate  means,  as  thofe  by  which  Chriftianity 
 actually  was  propagated  ;  and  that  all  this  might,  in  a 
 ■way  accountable  by  human  reafon;  and  luitable  to  the 
 iifual  courfe  of  things,  have  come  about  in  fpite  of  uni- 
 verial  oppolition  from  all  thofe  in  whofe  hands  the  fecu- 
 lar  power  was  then  lodged;  and  in  ipite  of  that  moft. 
 unconquerable  of  all  prejudices,  which  m.ankind  have 
 for  the  religion  they  were  brought  up  in.  The  oppo- 
 fers  of  Chriftianity  ought  to  fhew  that  there  have  been 
 inftances  fimilar  to  this  ;  and  that  a  few  artlefs,  illite- 
 rate filhermen  might  reafonably  be  fuppofed  equal  to  it 
 defign  of  outwitting  all  mankind,  impofing  a  fet  of  grofs 
 falfehoods  upon  them,  and  confounding  their  under- 
 ftandings  with  fictitious  miracles,  which  they  volunta- 
 rily, no  one  knows  why,  fwallowed  down  without  exa- 
 mination ;  and  the  coniequence  of  which  was  the  over- 
 turning all  the  national  religioiis  of  a  great  part  of  the 
 world,  in  fpite  of  the  power  of  prince?,  the  'zeal  of  the 
 priefts,  and  the  bigotry  of  the  people.  If  they  cannot  find 
 lome  rational  and  probable  way  of  accounting  fpr  this 
 ftrange  and  unejiampled  phof^nomenon,  upon  the  fuppo- 
 fition  of  Chriftianity's  being  a  fiction  ;  if  they  cannot 
 fhew,  that  fraud  was  ufed  (for  no  one  fever  alleged 
 force)  they  muil  yield  the  point,  and  acquifce  in  the 
 account  given  in  the  New  Tcilament,  to  wit.  That  it 
 made  its  way  in  the  world  by  the  power  of  its  own  irre- 
 liftible  evidence. 
 
 The  author  of  our  religion  mtift  cither  hate  been, 
 truly  and  indeed,  what  he  declares  himfelf ;  the  Son 
 of  God,  and  Saviour  of  the  world,  and  his  religion  a 
 Divine  appointment ;  or  he  muft  have  been  an  impoftorj 
 or  an  enthufiaft,  or  madman,  and  his  religion  either  a 
 fecularfcheme,  an  involuntary  dekifion,  or  a  pious  fraud* 
 
 L  1  Thafc 
 
^4  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 That  Jefus  Chrift  was  no  impoflor  will  plainly  ap- 
 pear, if  we  confideit  firft  what  a  monftrous  pitch  of 
 defpcrate  and  ahandoiied  wickednefs  was  neceffary  to 
 carry  a  perfon  the  lengths  be  went,  if  he  was  not  really 
 what  he  pretended.  The  whole  body  of  hiflory  cannot 
 produce  fuch  another  inftance  of  daring  impiety.  For 
 no  impoRor  ever  arrogated  fuch  high  honours  and  cha- 
 racters as  he  does  :  which  to  think  of  as  mere  tiGtion 
 ancTgroundlefs  pretence,  is  ftartling  to  human  nature. 
 To  fuppofe  a  man  in  his  fenfes  to  go  on,  conftan-tly  and 
 invariably  for  feveral  years,  giving  out,  that  he  was  the 
 beloved  fon  of  God  ;  that  he  came  down  from  henven, 
 whither  he  was  again  to  return  ;  that  be  had  enjoyed 
 glory  with  God  before  the  world  was;  that  he  had 
 power  to  forgive  fin  ;  that  he  was  to  judge  the  world  j 
 to  hear  him  addrefs  the  Deity  as  he  does,  John  xviith, 
 appealing  to  him  for  the  truth  of  his  pretenfions,  and 
 keeping  in  the  fame  fi:rain  to  the  laft  moment  of  his  life ; 
 to  fuppofe  any  man  in  his  fenfes  capable  of  all  this  fright- 
 ful impiety,  is  imagining  fomewhat  altogether  unexam- 
 pled, efpecially  if  we  take  along  with  it,  that  we  have 
 from  this  moft  impious  of  all  impoflors  the  befl  fyftem 
 of  laws  that  ever  was  given  to  the  fons  of  men,  the  pe- 
 culiar excellence  of  which  is  their  excluding  all  im- 
 piety, fraud,  and  fecular  views,  teaching  to  avoid  even 
 the  lead  appearance  of  evil,  and  to  give  up  all  for  truth 
 and  confcience. 
 
 Again,  vvhat  fhadov/,  or  farmife,  of  indired  dealing,, 
 what  fufpicion  of  any  thing  immoral,  or  unjuftifiable, 
 •appears  againfl;  his  charader,^  What  fault  were  his 
 enemies  able  to  lay  to  his  charge,  when  challenged  by 
 him,  except  that  he  had  expofed  their  wickednefs  and 
 hypccrify  .^  Even  when  Judas,  who  knew  his  whole 
 condud,  delired  to  betray  him,  was  he  able  to  find  any 
 thing  againil  him  ?  Had  his  behaviour  been  at  all  fufpici- 
 ous  or  obnoxious,  is  there  any  reafon  to  queflion  whether 
 Judas  had  it  not  in  his  power  to  have  deted:cd  and  in- 
 formed againft  him  .''  And  is  it  to  be  fuppofed,  that  his 
 inveterate  wickednefs  would  fuffcr  any  pretence  for 
 accufinghis  mafter,  and  juPiifyinghis  own  malice  againft 
 him^  to  pafs  unimproved  to  the  utmod  ? 
 
 Befides, 
 
^^v^aiedkeligion.)  HUMAN   NATURE.  51^ 
 
 Befides,  if  the  author  of  our  religion  was  an  impoftor, 
 what  was  his  fcheme  in  deceiving  mankiild  ?  Not  any 
 fecular  advantage..  For  it  is  notorious,  that  poverty, 
 contempt,  perfecution,  and  death  "were  his  portion, 
 according  to  his  own  prediction  ;  that  his  followers  had 
 no  better  treatment  fur  the  fiift  thrc'e  centuries  ;  that 
 the  emperor  Conjlantine's  giving  fecular  advantages  to 
 the  Chridians  was  the  firft  blo\v  (Iruck  to  the  original 
 diiinterefted  purity  of  that  religion  ;  and  that  from  the 
 time  the  world  was  thru  ft  into  the  church,  religion  be- 
 gan to  decline  ;  which  fnews,  that  fecular  views  were 
 inconliftent  with  its  true  deiign  and  genius.  ■ 
 
 If  it  was  fet  up  with  ^a  view  to  worldly  grandeur, 
 how  comes  it  every  where  to  inculcate  the  contempt  of 
 riches,  honours,  and.pleafures,  and  the  purfuitof  things 
 fpiritual  and  heavenly  ?  What  fteps  were  taken  by 
 Chr'ijl^  or  his  followers,  to  aggrandize  therafelves  ?  Was 
 not,  on  the  contrary,  their  praclice  fuitable  to  their 
 dodrine  ?  Is  not  the  whole  of  their  character  a  perfect 
 ■fiattern  of  felf-deniai  and  abflinence  ?  Who  has  ever 
 convided  them  of  any  one  inftance  of  worldly 
 craft  or  defign  ?  It  is  certain  from  all  accounts,  fa- 
 cred  and  profane,  that  at  the  time  of  ChnJ^s  appear- 
 ance in  the  world,  there  was  a  general  expedation  of 
 the  MejTiah ;  and  that  the  idea  formed  by  the  grofs 
 apprehenfions  of  the  people,  of  the  characler  he  was  to 
 appear  in,  wqs  that  of  a  great  prince.  What  could 
 therefore  be  more  natural  for  an  impoftor,  than  to  take 
 the  advantage  of  this  prejudice,  fo  favourable  to  a 
 w^orldly  fcheme  ?  Inftead  of  which  we  find  him,  (and 
 his  apoftles  after  they  came  once  to  underfland  the 
 fcheme  he  was  upon)  letting  up  on  a  quite  different 
 footing,  the  mod  unpopular  plan,  that  could  have  been 
 thought  of;  difclaiming  all  worldly  views,  and  declar- 
 ing that  their  profeffion  led  direclly  to  poverty  and  fuf- 
 fering.  It  is  indeed  evident,  that  conlidering  the  uni- 
 verfal  prejudice  of  the  Jews  with  refpcct  to  the  charac- 
 ter in  which  the  Saviour  of  the  world  was  to  appear,  it 
 muft  have  been  impodible  for  a  perfon  of  that  nation  to 
 frame  an  idea  of  a  fuftering  MeJJiah,  but  by  infpiration, 
 or  from  underftanding  the  ancient  predictions  concern- 
 
 L  1  2  ing 
 
|i<5  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  it. 
 
 ing   him  in   a  manner  quite   different  from  what  was 
 iifual  among  them. 
 
 Farther  ;  what  probability  is  there,  that  he  who  had 
 fagacity  enough  to  contrive  a  fcheme,  which  did  in 
 effect  prevail  againft  all  oppofition,  fhould  yet  be  fo 
 imprudent,  as  to  hazard  the  difappointment  of  his 
 whole  defign  by  overloading  it  with  fo  many  incum- 
 brances ?  Why  fhould  he  pretend  to  be  the  Son  of  God, 
 if  it  had  not  been  true?  How,  indeed,  could  a  mere 
 human  brain  invent  fuch  a  thought  ?  How  work  out  of 
 itfeli  the  imaginations  of  his  having  enjoyed  pre-exiilent 
 glory  with  God,  of  his  coming  into  the  world  to  give 
 his  life  for  the  life  of  the  world  •,  and  of  his  being  the 
 appointed  future  Judge  of  the  human  race  ?  There  is 
 fomething  in  this,  which  lies  wholly  out  of  the  way  of 
 mere  -humanity.  And  accordingly,  thofe  who  heard 
 him,  at  leaft  the  unprejudiced,  owned,  that  *'  he  fpoke 
 "  as  never  man  fpoke."  But  farther ;  Why  (hould  he 
 forwarn  his  followers  of  the  difcouraging  coufequences 
 of  their  adherence  to  his  religion,  if  he  had  been  capa- 
 ble of  deceiving  ?  Why  ffiould  he  difappoint  the  incli- 
 nations and  prejudices  of  the  people,  who  wanted  a 
 worldly  MeJJidh,  if  he  himfelf  aimed  at  worldly  gran- 
 deur ?  Why  ffiould  he  prevent  many  from  following 
 him,  who  were  difpofed  to  do  it,  b-  undeceiving  them, 
 and  informing  them  that  his  kingdom  was  not  of  this 
 world?  Why  ftiould  he  exert  a  Supernatural  power  to 
 withdraw  himfelf  from  among  them,  when  they  were 
 going  to  raife  him  to  regal  authority  ;  if  fecular  power 
 v/as  what  he  afpired  after  ? 
 
 And,  fuppofing  Chriftianity  an  invention  of  later 
 date,  why  ffiould  the  Saviour  of  the  world  be  repre- 
 fented  in  the  fuppofed  fictitious  hiftory,  as  fuffering  a 
 ftiameful  death?  Would  it  not  have  been  more  likely 
 to  take  with  mankind,  for  the  inventors  of  the  fcheme 
 to  have  reprefented  the  author  of  the  religion  they 
 wanted  to  perfuade  maipkind  to  the  belief  of,  as  a  vic- 
 torious prince,  who  had  got  the  better  of  all  oppofition, 
 than  as  one  who  appeared  on  earth  in  the  mofl:  lowly 
 ftation  ;  defpifed  and  abufed,  while  he  lived,  and  atla^ 
 piu  to  an  infamous  death  between  two  thieves. 
 
 Let 
 
.Revealed Religion.)      HUMAN  NATURE.  517 
 
 Let  it  now  be  confidered  (if  indeed  it  be  worth  while 
 to  coniider  vvhat  is  fo  grofsly  abfurd)  what  poflibility 
 there  is  of  Cbriji''s  having  been  an  enthuliaft,  or  phre- 
 netic. In  order  to  judge  properly  of  this,  let  it  be  com- 
 puted, what  degree  of  enthuliafai  was  neceflary  to  bring 
 a  peifon  to  perfuade  himfelt,  that  he  was  the  Saviour  of 
 the  world,  the  MeJJiah,  the  Anointed  of  God,  the  Son 
 of  God,  who  had  exifted  before  the  creation  of  this 
 world,  and  was  again  to  afcend  to  his  former  glory  with 
 God,  after  finilhing  the  great  work,  for  which  he  came 
 into  the  world ;  Vv'hat  degree  of  enthulialm  or  madnefs 
 mutt  that  man  have  been  wori<ed  up  to,  who  could 
 believe  all  this  of  himfelf.  while  he  was  really  no  more 
 than  another  mortal  ?  How  miferable  mull  his  phrenfy 
 have  been  ?  Hovv'  confounded  and  broke  all  his  faculties? 
 
 Next,  let  it  be  attended  to,  what  fuitablenefs  there 
 is  between  fuch  a  degree  of  diftradion  as  this,  and  the 
 .whole  charadfer  and  conduifl  of  the  author  of  our  reli- 
 gion. What  fifigle  inftance  does  he  give  of  even  com- 
 mon frailty,  or  of  fuch  imprudence  as  is  obferved  at 
 times  in  the  condu6l  of  the  wifefl;  men  ,  in  the  conducH; 
 even  of  infpired  men  ?  While  prophets,  and  apoftles 
 are  in  Scripture  reprefented  as  falling  into  the  common 
 weaknelTes  of  human  nature,  (an  argument  of  the  truth 
 of  facred  hiftory)  his  behaviour  Hands  wholly  clear  of 
 every  inftance  of  infirmity  or  frailty.  Where  are  the 
 ragings  and  bellowings  of  enthafiafm  ?  W^hat  figns  did 
 he  give  of  a  dittempered,  or  over-heated  imagination  ? 
 Is  not  his  whole  condud  a  perfect  pattern  of  calmnefs^ 
 prudence,  and  caution  ?  Does  he  not  baffle  the  mali- 
 cious and  infnaring  quellions  of  his  crafty  enemies  by  a 
 wifdom,  which  puts  them  all  to  iilence  ?  Are  not  his 
 anfvvers  fo  guarded  as  to  defeat  their  fludied  quefiions? 
 Are  the  artful,  the  malicious,  and  the  learned,  more 
 than  children,  or  fools  before  him  ?  Is  this  the  charac- 
 ter of  an  enthufiail  ?  Does  madnefs  thus  weigh  its  an- 
 fwers  ?  Has  the  brain- fick  vifionary  any  fuch  guard  over 
 himfelf,  as  to  avoid  the  fnare  that  is  laid  for  him  ?  Not 
 only  to  avoid  the  fnare  himfelf,  but  likewife  to  put  to 
 confufion  and  filence  his  adverfaries  ? 
 
 Let  it  alfo  be  confidered,   whether  it  is  poflible  that 
 fuch  a  fyftem  of  dodlrines  and  laws  fliouid  be  the  pro- 
 
 L  i  3  dudtion 
 
5i8  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV, 
 
 duction  of  an  entbufidftic  or  diftempered  brain.  A 
 fyftem,  which  has  afforded  the  wilefl:  of  our  fpecies  mat- 
 .ter  for  ftudy,  exaniiuation,  and  admiration,  ever  lince 
 it  has  been  publiflied  to  the  world.  A  fct  of  dodrines 
 more  fublime  than  all  that  ever  were  taught  mankind 
 before.  Difcoveries,  which  neither  facrcd,  nor  profane 
 antiquity  had  before  exhibited  to  mankind.  Solutions 
 of  the  very  difficulties,  which  had  put  the  wifdom  of 
 the  ancients  to  a  ftand.  Dcftrines,  beyond  the  natural 
 reach  of  human  reafon,  and  yet,  when  difcovered,  com- 
 mending themfelves  to  reafon,  and  bearing  the  internal 
 marks  of  their  Divine  originaL  Precept^  whofe  purity 
 puts  the  ancient  legiflators  to  (hame.  Laws,  tending  to 
 improve  human  nature  to  its  utniofl:  perfedion.  A  rule 
 of  life  faperior  to  all  others,  in  its  beinp  abiolu'ely  per- 
 fe(5l  and  complete,  wanting  nothing  proper  for  the 
 regulation  of  every  pciffion  and  appetite,  for  the  directing 
 to  the  complete  performance  of  every  ibciai  atid  relative 
 duty,  and  fixing  the  only  acceptable  way  of  worfhip- 
 ping  the  One  Supreme.  A  fcheme,  of  which  it  is  with 
 reafon  faid  in  Scripture,  that  the  angels  defire  to  look 
 into  it.  Are  thefe  the  producT:ions  of  a  vificjnary?  thefe 
 the  reveries  of  a  hot-brain'd  enthuliail?  It  is  plain,  that 
 his  enemies  neither  thought  him  fuch,  nor  thought  it 
 pofiible  to  perfuade  the  generality  of  the  people,  who 
 converfed  with  him,  to  think  fo  of  him.  For,  if  they 
 could  have  made  him  pafs  for  an  enthuftaftic  or  phre- 
 netic perfon,  they  certainly  would  have  chofe  that  as 
 the  ealieit  way  of  ridding  themfelves  of  him,  and  put- 
 ting a  Hop  to  his  fcheme. 
 
 vlf  it  can  be  proved,  that  the  religion  o£  Jfefus  is  by 
 no  means  a  fraud  of  any  kind,  it  will  unqiieuinnably 
 follow,  tht)t  it  is  not  a  pious  fraud.  But  that  Chiiftianity 
 is  no  fraud  of  any  kind  is  plain,  not  only  from  the  ex- 
 cellency of  its  do<51;rines  and  precepts,  the  character  of, 
 its  author  and  firft  propagators,  and  its  expreis  prohi- 
 bition of  every  appearance  of  deceit  on  whatever  pre- 
 tence, bat  from  the  concurrence  and  coincidence  of  in- 
 numerable collateral  evidences,  which  by  their  very  na- 
 ture were  not  within  the  reach  of  human  contrivance. 
 The  whole  body  of  revelation  is  to  beconfidered  as  one 
 uniforni  fcheme,  reaching  from  the  beginning  to  the 
 
Revealed Religicfi. J       HUMAN  NATURE.  519 
 
 end  of  the  world;  in  which  tiie  falvation  of  mankind 
 by  the  Mefjiah  is  the  principal  part,  or  point  of  view,  to 
 which  all  the  otheis  lead^  and  with  which  they  are  con- 
 neded  in  fuch  a  manner,  that  the  whole  miift  ftand  or 
 fall  together.  So  that  if  the  Chriftian  religion  be  a  de- 
 lufion,  it  is  evidently  too  great  and  extenlivc  to  be  a  de- 
 lulion  of  human  invention.  That  it  is  no  contrivance 
 of  evil  fpirits,  is  plain  from  its  dired.  tendency  to  pro- 
 mote virtue  and  goodnefs,  and  to  banifh  all  kinds  of 
 impiety  and  vice  out  of  the  world.  It  miift  therefore 
 be  a  fcheme  of  fome  being,  or  beings,  fuperior  to 
 humanity.  Which  is  owning  it  to  be  a  Divine  ap- 
 pointment :  For  we  have  no  conception  of  a  fraud 
 contrived  by  any  good  being  of  the  angelic  rank. 
 
 That  it  ihould  be  prophefied  at  the  beginning  of  the 
 world,  and  recorded  by  Mofes  a  thoufand  years  before 
 the  appearance  of  Chrijt,  **  that  the  Seed  of  the  woman 
 **  fhould  bruife  the  ferpent's  head,"  and  that  Chrift 
 fliould  be  the  feed  of  a  woman,  miraculoufly  conceived 
 without  the  concurrence  of  a  male  ;  could  this  have 
 come  about  by  Jiuman  contrivance  ?  When  it  is  re- 
 peatedly foretold  by  the  prophets,  that  Chrijl  fliould 
 come  of  the  pofterity  oi  Abraham,  of  Jfaac,  oi  Jacob y 
 of  David ;  that  he  fliould  be  born  at  Bethlehem ; 
 that  he  fhould  appear  about  the  time  of  the  *'  depar- 
 "  ture  of  the  fceptre  from  Judah^'^  that  he  fliould 
 be  "  cut  off,  but  not  for  himiclf ;  be  pierced,  be  put 
 *"  to  death  with  the  wicked,  and  buried  by  the  rich  ; 
 *'  that  he  fliould  be  fold  for  thirty  pieces  of  iilver ;" 
 and  all  the  circumltances  of  his  death  particularly 
 pointed  out ;  that  all  thefe,  and  many  other  predidions 
 fulhlled  in  Chrijl,  and  anfwering  to  none  elfe  but  him, 
 fliould  be  found  in  the  Scriptures  preferved  by  the  J^c-tf/, 
 the  violent  oppofers  of  Chrijl  and  his  religion  ;  let  the 
 inventors  of  Chriftianity  (fuppoling  it  an  invention) 
 have  been  ever  fo  cunning,  they  never  could  have  mo- 
 delled the  whole  fcheme  from  the  very  beginning,  fo 
 as  it  fliould  anfvver  their  purpofe;  they  could  never  have 
 brought  things  about  in  fuch  a  manner  as  to  make 
 them  fuit  in  fuch  a  number  of  particulars,  as  will  ap- 
 pear by  running  over  the  various  evidences  for  our  re- 
 ligion. 
 
 LI  ^  An(i 
 
520  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 And  its  is  notorious,  that  not  only  the  weak  and  illi- 
 terate, but  fome  of  the  wife  and  learned,  embraced 
 Chrillianity  at  the  time  when  it  might  witli  eale  and 
 certainty  have  been  difcovered  to  be  an  impofture,  if  it 
 really  was  fo :  That  thofe  who  at  firil  were  prejudiced 
 againft  it  were  afterwards  converted  to  the  belief  of  it  : 
 That  numbers  of  thofe  who  certainly  knew  v.'hether 
 ye/us  Chrijl  was  really  rifen  from  the  dead  or  not,  gave 
 up  their  lives  in  atteftation,  not  of  an  opinion,  but  of  a 
 Umple  fadl:,  concerning  the  truth  or  falfehood  of  which 
 they  could  not  have  the  leaft  doubt :  That  the  fit  ft  pro- 
 pagators of  Chriftianity  were  net  to  be  put  to  lil  nee  by 
 ail  the  oppofition  they  met  with  from  all  the  pov/ers  of. 
 the  world  :  That  though  they  exptcfed  nothing  but 
 perfecution,  imprilbnment,  fcourging,  and  all  kmds  of 
 abufe,  in  every  place  they  went  to,  without  any  one 
 earthly  comfort  to  make  up  for  their  fulTermgs,  without 
 the  leaft  fliadow  of  any  temporal  advantage  ;  they  went 
 on  ftill  indefatigable  and  unconquerable  in  publifhing 
 the  refurreclion  oi  Jefiis.  Is  it  conceivable,  that  Hu- 
 man Nature  muft  not  have  been  tired  out  with  going 
 on  day  after  day,  and  year  after  year,  for  a  whole  life- 
 time, propagating  a  known  falfehood,  by  which  they 
 were  to  get  nothing  but  mifery  in  this  world,  and  dam*, 
 nation  hereafter  ?  ' 
 
 Deplorable  is  the  objedlion  ftarted  here  by  the  op- 
 pofers  of  Chriftianity ;  That  our  Saviour's  dilciples  did 
 not  fee  him  rile  :  As  if  it  were  of  any  conf^quence  to 
 the  certainty  of  his  being  really  alive  again,  that  no  one 
 faw -him  come  out  of  his  tomb.  That  he  was  cert^jinly 
 dead  is  unqueitionable;  he  having  been  publicly  cru- 
 cified, and  ftabbed  in  the  fide  with  a  fpear  as  he  hung 
 on  the  crofs.  And  that  he  was  certainly  alive  again, 
 was  as  unqueftionable  to  thofe  who  converfed  with  him 
 for  ft X  weeks  together,  after  his  pafiion,  as  if  they  had 
 been  witneffes  of  his  rifing.  And  that  he  did  not  (hew 
 himfelf  to  the  people  (who  deferved  no  fuch  favour) 
 but  only  to  chofen  witneffes,  is  an  objection  as  wretched 
 as  the  former  ;  the  only  queftion  being.  Whether  the 
 witneffes,  who  declare  that  Chriji  was  alive  after  his 
 crucifixion,  are  credible,  or  not.     But  to  proceed  : 
 
Revealed  Religion.;  HUMAN 'NATURE.  521 
 
 That  a  perfon  of  the  confpicuous  and  extraordinary- 
 abilities  of  St.  Faul,  (liould  be  drawn  into  fuch  a  couile 
 of  extravagance  as  to  travel  thoui'ands  of  miles,   propa- 
 gating every  where  an  idle  fidion  of  his  having  had  a 
 vilion    of  Chrijif   and    being  comniiffioned  by   him  to 
 preach  his  religion  over  the  world  :  That  a  man  of  his 
 learning  and  judgment  fhould  publicly  declare  to  the 
 world  his  full  perlualion  of  the  truth  of  a  doclrine  de- 
 cried  by   almolt  all  the  worldly-wife  of  ihofe  times  : 
 That  he  fliould  own  himfelf  to  have  been  formerly  in 
 the  wrong  in   oppofing  Chriftianity  :   That  he  fliould 
 take  public  fliamc  to  himfelf  before  all  mankind,  and 
 commit  his  recantation  to  writing,  to  ftand  on  record 
 as  long  as  the  vvorld  laited.  What  a  degree  of  madntfs,  or 
 fafcination,  mult  that  have  been,  which  would  have  been 
 equal  to  all  thele  efftds?   But  what  fort  of  madnefs  or 
 fafcination  mud  that' have  been,   which  could  come  to 
 fuch  a  height,  and   not  have  wholly  incapacitated  the 
 apoftle   for   every  thing  confiflent  with  common  fenfe 
 and  difcretion  ?   Yet  we  find  the  woirks  of  this  illullri- 
 ous  propagator  of  Chriftianity,  conlidered  only  in  a  cri- 
 tical light,  are,  to  fay  the  leall,  equal  to  thofe  of  the 
 greateft  geniuffes,  and  belt  reafoners  of  antiquity;  and 
 himfelf  by  heathen  writers  celebrated  as  a  perfon  of  fu- 
 perior  abilities.     And  that  neither  our  Saviour  nor  his 
 apoltles  were  in  their  own  times  taken  for  enthufiafts  or 
 phrenetics,  is  plain  from  the  treatment  they  met  with: 
 For  perfecution  was  never,  that  I  know  of,   thought  a 
 proper  way  of  proceeding  againft  fuch  unhappy  perfons 
 as  had  loft  the  ufe  of  their  reafon.     That  either  the 
 great  apoftle  of  the  Gentiles,   the  other  propagators  oif 
 Chriftianity,  or  its  glorious  Author  himfelf,  weie  per- 
 fons  deficient  in  the  ufe  of  their  faculties,   will  appear 
 too  ludicrous  to  require  a  grave  anfwer,  if  it  be  only  re- 
 membered, that  it  is  the  very  character  of  madnefs  to 
 Itart  from  one  reverie  \o  another,   and  to  be  incapable 
 of  all  regularity  or  Iteadinefs  of  defign.     For  a  number 
 of  perfons  to  be  pofTefTed  with  the  fame  fpecies  of  mad- 
 nefs, that  they  fhould  adt  in   concert,   and  carry  on  a 
 complicated  and  ftupendous  fcheme  for  a  long  courfe  of 
 years ;  that  they  fliould  do  what  all  the  learned  and 
 wife  neyer  could  do ;  that  they  ihould  out-yvit  the  whole 
 
 vv  Olid, 
 
522  THE  DIGNITY  OF  {Book  IV. 
 
 world,  or  rather,  that  they  fhoiild  reform  and  improve 
 the  world  ;  to  allege  the  probability  of  all  this,  would 
 be  infuking^the  common  fenfe  of  mankind. 
 
 Nor  has  the  fuppofition  of  the  apoftles  being  wilful 
 impo'lors  any  more  hold  of  reaibn  or  probability,  than 
 that  of  their  being  enthufiafts  or  lunatics.  For  it  is  evi- 
 dent, as  already  obferved,  that  the  religion  they  have 
 elttibliflied  in  the  world  is  no  fcheme  forimpofing  upon 
 mankind,  nor  at  all  calculated  to  deceive,  Chriftianity, 
 as  it  Hands  in  the  apoitolic  writings,  is  manifeflly  a 
 fcheme  for  opening  the  eyes  of  mankind,  not  for  blind- 
 ing their  underftandings;  for  improving,  not  confound- 
 ing human  reafon  ;  for  removing,  not  riveting  preju- 
 dice. And  it  is  given  with  all  that  unadorned  and  art- 
 lefs  limplicity  which  diftinguifhes  truth  from  impodure. 
 Nor  can  the  leaft  furmife  or  fufpicion  of  any  indirecft  de- 
 fign  be  faftened  upon  them.  No  fcheme  for  aggran- 
 dizing themfelves.  Their  ambitious  views  vanilhed  at 
 the  death  of  their  Mafter.  And  from  the  time  of  his. 
 fifcenlion,  we  fee  their  whole  conduct  and  behaviour 
 wholly  difengaged  from,  and  fuperior  to,  all  worldly 
 deiigns.  We  fee  them  difclaiming  riches,  honours,  and 
 pleafures,  and  teaching  their  followers  to  afpire  only 
 after  future  glory,  honour,  and  immortality,  and  to 
 trample  under  their  feet  the  vain  am^ifements  of  the 
 prejefit  fhort  and  perifhing  life.  The  accounts  they 
 have  left  of  their  own  errors  and  w^eakneiTes,  fuit  very 
 ill  with  a  fcheme  to  impofe  on  mankind.  The  dif- 
 pute,  which  we  know  arofe  between  them,  mud  have 
 difcovered  the  plot,  if  there  had  been  one.  For  it  is 
 evident,  that  they  did  not  fpare  one  another,  and  that 
 they  have  not  at  all  foftcned  things  in  the  accounts  they 
 have  left  on  record  of  the  differences  which  arofe  be- 
 tween them.  Their  accufation  of  their  countrymen, 
 and  their  defying,  in  the  mod  public  manner,  their 
 moft  inveterate  enemies  to  lay  any  thing  juftly  to  their 
 charge,  what  are  the  genuine  marks  of  integrity  and 
 limplicity  of  intention,  if  thefe  are  not? 
 
 There  is  indeed  no  argument  for  the  truth  of  Chrifti- 
 anity  more  irrefiftible  than  the  charader  and  condud: 
 of  its  firfi;  propagators,  and  efpecially  of  its  glorious 
 Author.     No  human  fagacity  could,  from  mere  inven- 
 tion^ 
 
Revealed  ReUglon.)    HUMAN  NATURE.  50J 
 
 tion,  have  put  together  a  fiditious  account  of  the  be- 
 haviour of"  a  perfon,  in  fo  many  ftrange  and  uncommon 
 particulars,  as  the  evangelills  have  told  us  of  our  Sa- 
 viour, without  either  fvveliing  up  the  imaginary  cha- 
 radler  into  that  of  the  hero  of  a  romance,  or  drawing  it 
 defaced  with  faults  and  blemiihes.  That  human  inven- 
 tion is  by  no  means  equal  to  any  fuch  talk,  is  evident 
 from  the  fuccefs  of  the  attempts  which  have  been  made 
 by  the  greateft  mailers  of  deicription  to  draw  perfecT: 
 characl:ers,  efpecially  where  anything  fupernatural  was 
 to  have  a  place.  And  that  fuch  a  characfler,  as  that  of 
 our  Saviour,  fliould  be  drawn  fo  uniform  and  confident, 
 at  the  fame  tiu'ie  that  it  is  fo  wholly  new  and  peculiar, 
 that  in  all  the  hiftories,  and  all  the  epic  poems  in  the 
 world,  there  is  no  pattern  from  whence  the  leall  hint 
 could  be  taken  to  form  it  by  ;  that  this  charad:er,  in 
 which  the  greatnefs  is  of  fo  extraordinary  and  ftupend- 
 ous  a  kind,  that  whatever  is  great  in  thofe  of  warriors, 
 or  heroes,  or  kings,  is  defpifed  and  negleded  by  him, 
 and  infinitely  beneath  him  ;  that  fuch  a  character  fnould_ 
 be  the  invention  of  a  few  illiterate  men,  and  that  it 
 Should  by  them  be  exhibited,  not  by  ftudied  enco- 
 miums, but  by  a  bare  unadorned  narration  of  facts,  but 
 fuch  facts  as  are  no  where  elfe  to  be  equalled  ;  he  v/ho 
 can  believe  that  all.  this  could  be  the  etfecl  of  mere  hu- 
 man invention,  without  fuperior  interpofition,  mult  be 
 capable  of  believing  any  thmg.  So  that  I  may  defy  ail 
 the  oppoiers  of  revelation  to  anfwer  this  queltion,  How 
 we  came  to  have  fuch  a  character  as  that  of  Cbiifiy 
 drawn  as  it  is,  and  drawn  by  fuch  authors,  if  it  was  not 
 taken  from  a  real  original,  and  if  that  original  was  not 
 fomething  above  human  ? 
 
 I  do  not  think  it  would  be  a  hard  matter  to  write  a 
 volume  upon  this  fubjedt,  without  treading  much  in 
 the  footiteps  of  thofe  who  have  writ  upon  the  life  of 
 Chr'ijl.  But  without  confidering  at  prefent  what  has, 
 or  has  not,  been  faid  by  others,  I  fhall  only  defire  the 
 reader  to  perufe  carefully  the  evangelical  hiftory  (with 
 what  helps  may  be  neceifary)  ;  attending,  as  he  goes 
 through  the  account  of  the  words  and  adions  of  our 
 Saviour,  to  the  difpofition,  genius,  or  Ipirit,  which 
 jhines  throughout  the  whole.  Let  him  conliJc-r  the 
 *'•■  •  tender 
 
524  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 •tender  conipaffion  and  love  for  a  race  of  perverfe,  felf- 
 defiroycd  creatures,  which  muft  have  prompted  this 
 glorious  Being  to  c-ondefcend  thus  low  to  inftrudt  and 
 lave  ihem  from  vice  and  its  direful  confequences.  At 
 the  fame  time,  let  the  vvifdom  he  fhewed  in  doing  fo 
 be  confidered  ;  lince  nothing  conceivable  is  of  greater 
 importance,  or  more  worthy  of  a  Being  of  the  higheil 
 dignity,  than  the  recovery  of  a  fpecies,  otherwife  loft 
 and  undone,  to  virtue  and  endkfs  happinefs.  Let  the 
 prudence  and  judgment  of  this  Divine  Inftruclor  be  at- 
 tentively confidered.  How  eafy  had  it  been  for  him, 
 in  whom  were  hid  all  the  treafures  of  v/ifdom,  to  have 
 given  foith  his  inlirudions  in  fuch  a  manner  as  to  have 
 overpowered  all  human  underfcanding  r  How  hard  do 
 we  fee  it  is  for  men  of  fuperior  learning  to  adapt  their 
 leiTons  to  the  capacities  of  the  young  and  ignorant  ? 
 How  irkfome  to  mofl  men  the  employment  of  teaching? 
 How  f:fw  teachers  are  there  who  can  avoid  (hewing 
 fome  affectation  of  their  fuperiority  in  knowledge?  Who 
 could  have  expeded,  that  ever  he,  who  was  the  inftru- 
 ment  of  God  in  making  this  world,  whofe  Divine  pene- 
 tration faw  by  intuition  through  all  the  depths  of  fci- 
 cnce,  which  a  Newton  could  only  coUedt  by  laborious 
 inquiry,  by  accurate  calculation,  and  i^iilant  analogy, 
 that  one,  capable  of  inftructing  the  moft  enlightened 
 arch-angel,  ftiould  condefcend  to  initiate  in  firil  prin- 
 ciples a  multitude  of  ignorant,  illiterate  mortals. 
 *'  Bleffed  are  the  humble,  the  meek,  the  merciful.'* 
 Here  is'  no  affedation  of  myftic  learning  ;  no  pompous 
 oflentation  of  profound  fcience,  no  nice  dillindlion 
 of  fpeculative  points.  And  yet,  when  all  is  duly  con- 
 fidered, it  was  no  more  derogation  from  the  dignity  of 
 a  Teacher,  capable  of  inftructing  angels,  to  condefcend 
 to  give  to  thofe,  who  may  hereafter  come  to  be  com- 
 panions of  angels,  the  firft  principles  of  virtue,  which 
 is  the  only  true  vvifdom,  than  for  a  philofopher  to  teach 
 his  Ion  the  firft  rudiments  of  learning.  Then  how 
 wifely  does  he  fuit  his  inftruclions  both  to  the  capacities 
 and  difpofitions  of  his  hearers  I  Parable  and  allegory- 
 have  ever  been  thought  the  moft  entertaining  manner 
 of  communicating  inftrudion.  The  feverity  of  the  pre- 
 cept is  loft  in  the  entertainment  of  the  fable.     The  fen- 
 
 fible 
 
Revealed  Religion. )       MUMAN  NATtJRE.  ^IJ 
 
 fible  image  reflecls  a  light  upon  the  moral  thought,  and 
 the  abftrad  thought  gives  an  importance  to  the  fenfible 
 reprefentation.  By  apt  fimilittide,  therf.fore,  and  alle- 
 gories drawn  from  the  lurrounding  objec^ts,  did  this 
 great  Teacher  recommend  to  his  hearers  the  n)o(l  folemn 
 truths  and  important  precepts.  The  honefl;  and  teach- 
 able mind  was  thus  allured  to  fearch  after  Divine  know- 
 ledge ;  while  the  proud  and  obftinate  fcorned  the  trou- 
 ble of  inquiring  into  the  eafy  meaning  of  the  figures 
 ufed  by  him.  Thus  did  his  inllruclions  become  what 
 all  addrefles  to  free  and  reafoning  beings  ought,  a  part 
 of  trial  and  difcipline.  So  that  they  who  were  well  dif- 
 pofed  might  receive  improvement  and  advantage,  and 
 the  hard-hearted  might  hear  and  not  underftand. 
 
 With  what  graceful  eafe,  and  yet  folemn  compofure, 
 does  he  accomodate  himfelf  to  the  coveifation  of  all 
 forts  of  perfons  I  Among  the  wife  and  learned,  how  does 
 he  Ihine  in  communicating  clear  and  important  truth, 
 confuting  their  artificial  fophifms,  and  lilencing  their 
 malicious  cavils  I  Among  the  illiterate,  how  does  he  con- 
 defcend  to  the  meanneis  of  their  underftandings,  and 
 adapt  his  infl:rud:ions  to  their  apprehenfion,  and  ufual 
 train  of  thinking,  railing  his  relleclions  from  the  pre- 
 fent  objedts,  and  improving  upon  the  moil  common  oc- 
 cafions !  Even  women  and  children  are  taken  notice  of 
 by  this  Wifeil  of  Teachers  :  And  with  reafon.  For  no 
 well  difpofed  human  mind  is  of  little  consequence  : 
 Whatever  it  is  at  prefent,  it  is  in  the  way  to  be  here- 
 after great  and  glorious.  The  characler,  in  fliort, 
 which  the  Saviour  of  the  World  affumed,  feems  to  have 
 been  equally  fublime  and  amiable. 
 
 How  does  his  wifdom,  and  the  dignity  of  his  cha- 
 rafter,  appear  in  his  difcouraging  all  idle  curiofity, 
 which  engages  the  mind  unprofitably,  and  takes  ofi:^  its 
 attention  from  the  awful  bufinefs  for  which  we  were 
 fent  into  the  world  ;  at  the  fame  time,  that  he  fails  not 
 to  anfwer  any  ufeful  queftion  that  is  put  to  him  ;  and 
 ever  turns  the  attention  to  fomething  great,  and  worth/ 
 of  a  Divine  Inftru6lor  to  dwell  upon  ! 
 
 How  different  his  manner  of  communicating  inftrac- 
 tion  from  the  didates  of  the  artful  impoltoror  wild  en- 
 thufiaft  I   Inftead  of  threatening  with  fire  and  fword  the 
 
 oppofcrs 
 
^26  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  I"^, 
 
 oppoiers'of  Divine  Truth,  he  kindly  forewarns  them  of 
 the  natural  and  judicial  effedls  of  their  impious  obfti- 
 uacy  and  malice.  Inftead  of  thundering  out  fpiritual 
 anathemas  or  excommunications  againlt  thofe  who 
 would  not  take  his  religion  on  truft  ;  inftead  of  depriv- 
 ing them  of  the  temporal  advantages,  to  which  every 
 peaceable  fubjecl  has  an  unqueilionable  right  ;  inllead 
 of  employing  the  fecular  arm  to  decide  in  matters  of 
 confcience,  where  civil  power  has  no  right  to  interpof^; 
 inftead  of  fetting  the  world  in  a  flame  about  mere  fpe- 
 culative  opinions,  and  doubtful  doclrines,  this  Divine 
 Teacher  applies  himfelf  to  mankind,  as  one  who  under- 
 Itood  mankind.  He  addreifes  himfelf  to  their  reafon. 
 He  calls  upon  them  to  exert  their  underflanding.  He 
 does  not  i:":liit  upon  their  believing  him  on  his  own 
 aifertion,  though  he  might  have  done  fo,  on  a  much 
 Detter  pretence,  than  the  purelt  church,  the  mofl  nu- 
 merous council,  or  the  infallible  Bifhop  of  Rojiie  him- 
 felf. He  claims  no  implicit  authority  over  their  faith ; 
 but  appeals  to  the  works,  which  they  faw  him  perform, 
 and  to  the  prophecies  of  their  own  Scriptures,  which 
 they  faw  fulfilled  in  him.  The  dodlrines,  he  dwells 
 upon,  and  labours  to  inculcate,  are  the  great  and  im- 
 portant points  of  morality,  the  duties  of  love  to  God,< 
 and  benevolence  to  man  ;  the  heavenly  virtues  of  fin- 
 cerity,  felfdenial,  contempt  of  a  vain  world,  humility, 
 meeknefs,  and  the  other  excellent  graces,  which  make 
 the  only  true  ornament  of  the  human  mind,  which  have 
 a  natural  tendency  to  qualify  it  for  the  fociety  of  all 
 well-difpofed  beings  in  the  univerfe.  Is  not  this  the 
 very  doctrine,  are  not  thefe  the  very  precepts,  which 
 one  would  expect  the  meiTenger  of  God  to  mankind 
 to  teach  and  inculcate  ?  The  perverfe,  or  vicious 
 oppofer  of  Religion  may  cavil  as  long  as  he  will ;  but 
 I  think  myfelf  fafe  in  venturing  the  caufe  I  defend 
 upon  the  fenfe  of  every  well-difpofpofed  mind  ;  to 
 which  I  dare  appeal,  Whether  it  does  not  feel  the  Di- 
 vine Authority  of  this  heavenly  Teacher,  in  the  excel- 
 lence of  his  doctrines  and  precepts  ?  But  to  proceed  : 
 
 How  patiently  does  he  bear  with  the  mean  and  gro- 
 veling ideas  his  diiciples  had  at  fivlt  of  the  character  in 
 which  the  Meffiab  ought  to  appear  1  How  kindly  does 
 2  he 
 
Revealed  Religion.)        HUMAN   NATURE.  52-? 
 
 he  overlook  their  weaknefs,  in  fixing  all  their  defires  on 
 worldly  grandeur  I  What  pity  does  he  (lievv  for  the 
 unhappy  uninftructed  part  of  the  people,  the  publicans 
 and  finners  I  How  does  he  flievv  himlelf  ready  to  par- 
 don, though  by  no  means  to  juftify,  the  offences,  which 
 proceed  from  the  unthinking  indulgence  of  paiiion  and 
 appetite,  while  he  denounces  woes  upon  the  hardened 
 and  hypocritical  linner  I  Wonderful  I  that  he,  who 
 himfelf  knew  no  fault,  iliould  thus  bear  with  the  faults 
 of  wretched  mortals ;  while  they,  though  all  guilty  be- 
 fore God,  find  it  fo  hard  to  bear  with  one  another. 
 
 With  what  open  generonty  does  he  beftow  the  high- 
 ell  encomium  that  can  be  deferred  by  mortal  man,  on 
 one  who  had  juft  before  treated  him  and  his  pretenfions 
 in  a  very  flighting  manner.  I  mean  Natbaniely  who, 
 upon  Philips  informing  him,  that  the  miracles  pre- 
 formed by  Jefus  of  Nazaraby  gave  ground  to  conclude, 
 that  he  was  the  ChriJI,  of  whole  appearance  there  was 
 then  a  general  expeclation.  *'  What,"  fays  that  weak 
 and  narrow-minded  man,  "  do  you  expect  the  Mejfiah 
 "  to  come  from  fo  contemptible  a  place  a^Nazaretb  P^ 
 Yet  when,  at  the  defire  of  Philips  he  is  prevailed  upon 
 to  go  and  fee  him  ;  as  foon  as  he  appears,  v/ith  what 
 iinreferved  opennefs  does  He,  who  knew  all  that  was  in 
 man,  overlook  his  prejudice,  and  celebrate  him  as  a 
 pattern  of  truth  and  lincerity  of  heart  i  Hc^w  different 
 from  this  is  the  conducl  of  peevilh  mortals  I  Does  one 
 hear  the  leaft  furmife  of  a  refleclion  fuppofcd  to  have 
 been  call  upon  him  by  another  ?  How  hard  does  he 
 ■find  it  to  forgive  the  mortal  injury  ;  how  few  can  ever 
 bring  themfelves  heartily  to  love  thofe  who  have  taken 
 the  fmallefl  liberty  of  this  kind  I 
 
 Excepting  two  of  Chrijfs  miracles,  one  of  which  it 
 is'needlefs  to  mention  at  prefent,  its  effect  being  of  no 
 material  confequence  at  all,  but  as  an  emblem  of  the 
 future  deftruclion  of  the  JewSy  and  the  other  was  a  juil 
 punifliment  on  the  fufferers  •,  the  direcl  tendency  of  all 
 of  them  was  kind  and  benecfiial,  and  fuitable  to  the 
 characler  of  the  Saviour  of  the  World,  who  came  to 
 deliver  mankind  from  vice  and  miicry.  What  bleffmgs 
 might  not  be  expe6led  from  one,  whofe  appearance  in 
 the  ^vorid  was  fignalized  not  by  vain  triumphs,  and 
 
 '  honorary 
 
5iS  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  iV, 
 
 honorary  gifts  ;  but  who  exprelTed  his  gcodnefs  to 
 mankind  in  giving  food  to  the  hungry,  light  to  the' 
 "blind,  health  to  the  difeafed.  the  ufe  of  reafon  to  the 
 diitracled  and  polfelTed,  pardon  to  the  wounded  con- 
 fcience,  heavenly  knowledge  to  the  unenlightened  mind, 
 and  the  profperl  of  entllefs  happinefs  to  the  anxious 
 and  doubtful  ? 
 
 Vv^'hen  his  perverfe  enemies^  with  a  degree  of  im- 
 piety never  equalled  before  or  lince,  accufed  the  beil 
 of  characters  of  the  worlt  of  crimes;  alleging  that  he, 
 who  came  to  deftroy  the  kingdom  of  Satan,  was  guilty 
 of  a  collufion  with  Satnp  ;  thus  effedualiy  defeating 
 the  higheft  and  molt  powerful  means  of  convidion  and 
 reformation,  that  could  be  offered  to  free  and  rational 
 agents  ;  how  does  he  receive  their  impious  accufation  ? 
 Not  with  a  deadly  Itroke  from  that  hand,  which  could 
 wield  all  the  thunder  of  heaven  ;  but  with  a  calm  re- 
 monftrance  on  the  abfurdity  of  their  accufation,  the 
 greatnefs  of  their  crime,  and  the  fearful  vengeance  they 
 were  drav/ing  upon  themfelves. 
 
 What  fuperior  fagacity  does  he  (hew  in  defeating  the 
 artful  and  enfnaring  queftions  put  to  him  by  the  crafty 
 and  the  learned  I  How  does  he  anfwer  not  only  to 
 men's  words  ;  but  to  their  thoughts,  and  deligns  !  Ltt 
 the  converfation  between  him  and  Nicodemus  be  an  ex- 
 ample among  many.  Of  which  the  following  Ihort 
 account  will  ferve  to  illultrate  this  obfervation,  which 
 is  highly  necelFary  to  be  attended  to,  in  order  to  enter 
 into  the  beauty  and  propriety  of  many  of  our  Saviour's 
 difcourfes  and  anfwers. 
 
 This  Teacher  and  Ruler  of  the  Jews  having  fecretly 
 fome  opinion  of  our  Saviour  as  a  Prophet,  and  deliring 
 to  have  fome  particular  converfation  with  him,  goes  to 
 iiim  in  the  night,  to  avoid  giving  umbrage  to  his  fel- 
 low-doctors ;  being  im willing  to  be  fufpedted  of  any 
 inclination  to  diifent  from  the  eltabliihed  and  fafhion- 
 able  opinions.  He  begins  with  acknowledging  the  re- 
 ality and  the  greatnefs  of  the  miraculous  works  per- 
 formed by  him.  I'o  which  compliment  our  Saviour 
 returns  an  anfwer,  which  feems  very  abrupt ;  but  is 
 exactly  fuited  to  the  character  and  delign  of  Nicodemus, 
 The  fenfe  of  it  is  as  follows : 
 
 4  ^  "I  up'^or^ 
 
Revealed  Religion.)     HUMAN   NATURE,  j^H 
 
 *' I  underftand  what  you  mean  by  coming  to  me 
 «•  thus  privately.  But  that  you  may  at  once  be  able 
 *'  to  judge  of  the  do(^rine,  which  I  teach,  to  fee  how 
 *'  unfuitable  it  is  to  all  manner  of  worldly  views,  and 
 *'  may  not  be  deceived  into  an  opinion  of  your  being 
 *'  of  a  charader  and  temper  Ifit  to  be  a  difcipline  of 
 **  mine  ;  I  tell  you  at  once,  That,  as  the  bulk  of  man- 
 "  kind  are,  it  is  neceiTary  for  one  who  would  enter 
 *'  upon  the  profeffion  of  the  pure  and  fpiritual  religion, 
 "  which  1  am  come  into  the  world  to  teach  mankind, 
 "  to  be  as  much  changed  in  his  difpofition  and  pradice^ 
 "  as  if  he  was  to  be  new-born." 
 
 Nicodemus^  not  expeding  our  Saviour  to  anfwer  to 
 his  thoughts,  puts  a  very  abfurd  conftruction  upon  his 
 words.  Our  Saviour  condefcends  to  explain  the  me- 
 taphor he  had  ufed,  and  to  inform  Nicodemus^  that  he 
 meant  it  in  a  fpiritural  and  emblematical,  not  a  literal 
 fenfe.     He  then  goes  on  to  the  following  purpofe : 
 
 "  If  you  mean  to  enter  upon  the  Spiritual  Religion, 
 "  which  I  teach,  you  rauft  not  be  furprifed,  that  1  lay 
 **  the  foundation  of  my  doclrine,  not  in  a  fet  of  new 
 "  ceremonies  and  outward  obfervances,  but  in  a  total 
 "  change  of  heart  and  life.  For  you  mufl  refolve  upon 
 **  giving  up  your  prefent  fecular  fchemes,  and  becom- 
 "  ing  indifferent  to  all  worldly  purfuits,  when  they 
 **  come  in  competition  with  real  internal  goodnels." 
 
 He  afterwards  gives  Necodemus  fome  account  of  his 
 million,  and  deiign  in  coming  into  the  world ,  and 
 concludes  with  condemning  the  obftinacy  and  carnality 
 of  the  people,  and  of  Nicodemus  himfelf  among  the  reft, 
 and  ihews,  that  his  and  their  prejudices  in  favour  oif 
 their  errors,  and  attachment  to  their  vices,  were  the 
 caufe  of  their  oppolition  to  his  pure  and  fpiritual  doc- 
 trine. Nlcodiums  being  only  a  little  more  inquifitive, 
 and  having  a  little  more  candour  in  his  difpofition,  than 
 the  reft  of  the  JewiJJj  dodors  ;  but  not  enough  to  carry 
 through  ail  difficulties  and  trials,  is  treated  thus  plainly 
 and  roughly  by  him,  who  exadly  knew  what  v/as  in 
 every  man,  and  not  finding  the  Religion  of  Jcfiu  to  his 
 mind,  leaves  him  and  returns  to  his  former  profeflion, 
 without  having  any  good  effed  wrought  upon  him  by  the 
 conyerfation.  that  we  know  of,  except  that  he  feems. 
 
 Mm  by 
 
530     ,.  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (BookF/.. 
 
 by  one  iiiflance  in  the  fequel  of  the  hillory,  to  be  more 
 inclinable  to  favour  him  than  the  reft  of  his  fraternity. 
 A  character,  this  of  Nicodemiis,  fatally  common  among 
 Chriftians.  To  be  in  the  way  toward  the  kingdom  of 
 God,  and  yet,  through. a  defect  of  fome  one  necelTary 
 virtue,  or  a  fatal  attachment  to  fome  one  favourite 
 vice,  to  come  Ihort  of  it  at  laft. 
 
 To  return,  How  ready  is  he  to  find  an  excufe  for  the 
 unpardonable  ftupidityof  hisdifciples,in  fufl'ering  them- 
 felves,  the  laft  time  they  v/ere  to  enjoy  his  company  be- 
 fore his  death,  to  be  overcome  with  lleep,  while  they  faw 
 the  anguiPn  their  Mafter  was  in,  which,  in  a  Being  of  his 
 power  and  intrepidity,  might  juftly  have  alarmed  them 
 'with  the  expectation  of  fomewhat  to  the  higheft  degree 
 terrible  and  fliocldng  I  And  good  reafon  there  is  to  con- 
 clude, that  the  approach  of  death  was  not  all  that  pro- 
 duced in  him  thofe  dreadful  emotions  of  horror  and 
 amazement.     Does  he  not  fuffer  the  traitor  himfelf  to 
 follow  him  for  feveral  years,  to  partake  of  his  counfels,  to 
 hear  his  Divine  Dodtrine  ?  Does  he  not  forewarn  him 
 of  the  wickednefs  he  had  in  his  heart,  and  give  him  all 
 advantage  for  relenting  ?    Even  when  he  advances  to 
 betray  his  Lord  with  a  treacherous  embrace,   does  he 
 ftrike  him  dead  with  a  word  ?    Though  they  all  make 
 their  efcape,  and  leave  him  in  his  extremity,  does  he 
 puniQi,  or  even  reproach  them,   after  his  refurrection, 
 for  their  unfaithfulnefs  to  him,    for  whom  they  ought 
 to  have  laid  down  their  lives,  who  came  to  lay  down 
 his  life  for  them  ? 
 
 Let  the  noble  and  heroic  behaviour  of  the  Prince  of 
 Peace,  toward -his  wicked  and  implacable  enemies,  be 
 confidered.  How  does  he  Ci^ew  himfelf  above  their 
 iitmoft  malice  ?  Does  he  not  go  on  ftill  in  his  calm 
 dignity,  and  equal  goodneis,  in  fpite  of  their  utmoft 
 fury,  till  he  has  finiflied  his  miniftry,  and  the  tim^e 
 comes  for  him  to  return  to  the  ftate  of  happinefs  and 
 glory  he  had  left.  When  their  hour  and  the  pov/er 
 of  darknefs  prevails,  with  what  meeknefs  does  he  give 
 himfelf  up  into  their  cruel  l^ands  ?  When  they  come 
 to  apprehend  him,  and,  ftruck  with  the  majefty  which 
 furrounded  him,  fly  back  and  fall  before  him  to  the 
 ground,  he  exerts  no  vindidive  pov/er  againft  them, 
 
 though 
 
ksvtaka Religion.)    HUMAN  NATURE.  ^^t 
 
 though  he  could  with  a  word  have  ftruclr  them  fo  as 
 they  (hould  have  rifen  no  more,  and  could  have  called 
 legions  of  angels,  who  would  have  thought  it  their 
 honour  to  have  been  commanded  to  interpofe  for  his 
 deliverance.  But  though  he  wrought  a  miracle  to 
 avoid  regal  power,  he  works  none  to  efcape  an  infa- 
 ahous  death. 
 
 Behold  the  innocent  arraigned  before  the  guilty  I 
 The  moll  flmiable  of  characters  treated  worfe  than  the 
 moil  odious  deferves  at  any  human  hands.  The  future 
 Judge  of  Mankind  brought  before  a  human  tribunal. 
 He  who  did  no  fin,  and  in  whofe  mouth  was  found  no 
 guile,  fentenced  to  die,  and  a  robber  and  murderer 
 pardoned,  ihey,  for  whom  the  Saviour  of  the  VV^orld 
 came  from  heaven  to  give  his  precious  life,  long  to  im- 
 brue their  hands  in  the  very  blood,  which  was  to  be 
 filed  for  them.  O  the  diabolical  fury  of  hypocrify  de- 
 tecfted  I  Crucify  him  ;  crucify  him  !  cry  the  bloody 
 Priefls,  and  the  blinded  people  echo  back  the  madning 
 voice.  But  will  the  Lord  of  life  fulfer  himfelf  to  be 
 fpoiled  of  life  by  a  fet  of  miferable  worms,  whom  he  can 
 cruili  to  nothing  in  a  moment  ?  No.  He  lays  it  down 
 of  himfelf;  no  man  takes,  or  can  take  it  from  him. 
 He  came  to  lay  down  his  life  for  the  life  of  the  world. 
 And  if  daring  mortals  will  be  fo  inipious  as  to  ftretcli 
 forth  unhallowed  hands  againft  him,  the  decree  of 
 heaven  wdll  neverthelefs  be  fulfilled,  and  they,  who 
 v/ill  heap  damnation  upon  themfelves,  (hall  be  left  to 
 the  deftruclion  they  have  fought.  Yet  hold  your 
 butchering  hands,  unthinking  wretches.  Or  if  his  fa- 
 cred  blood  muft  ftream  to  waQi  a  finful  world  from 
 guilt ;  let  the  High  Jfrielt  with  reverence  offer  him  on 
 the  altar,  the  true,  the  laft,  the  only  effecluai  facrificc 
 for  fin.  So  fliall  you,  and  your  nation,  efcape  the  de- 
 fiirudion  which  Itangs  over  you.—- They  harden  their 
 rocky  hearts  againft  all  fenfe  of  pity.  They  urge  their 
 own  dellrudion.  Let  not  then  the  eye  of  day  be- 
 hold fo  black  a  deed.  Let  heaven  hide  its  face  from 
 fuch  a  fight.  They  pierce  thofe  hands  whofe  falutary 
 touch  gave  health  and  firength,  and  thofe  feet  which 
 went  about  doing  good.  They  ilretch  him  on  the  crofs. 
 They  (lop  their  ears  againft  the  groans  of  Cuijering  in-* 
 
 M  m  2  uocenee 
 
532  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 rocence.  But  the  inanimate  earth  feelsj  and  fhakes 
 with  horror  at  the  innpiety  of  her  inhabitants.  The 
 rocks  burft  in  pieces,  and  nature  is  in  agonies.  The 
 Ileep  of  death  is  broken  by  the  convulfion.  The  graves 
 open  their  throats,  and  call  up  fhe  ghaftly  dead.  An 
 unfeen  hand  rends  the  veil  of  the  temple,  and  expofes 
 the  holy  place,  into  which  it  was  forbidden  to  enter. 
 His  agonies  now  grow  Wronger.  His  pangs  redouble. 
 The  choirs  of  angels  moarn  the  fufFerings  of  their  Prince. 
 Hell  is  moved,  and  the  daemons  enjoy  a  fliort  triumph, 
 Darknefs  covers  the  face  of  nature,  and  chaos  feems 
 ready  to  fvvallow  all.  He  calls  on  his  God  and  Father, 
 the  witnefs  of  his  innocence,  and  approver  of  his  obe- 
 dience. He  prays  for  thofe  by  whofe  murdering  hands 
 he  dies.  He  raifes  his  voice  aloud.  His  ftrength  is 
 yet  entire.  But  having  finifhed  the  work,  and  the  pro- 
 phecies being  accomplifhed,  by  his  own  original  power 
 over  his  own  life,  he  refigns  his  foul  into  the  hands  of 
 the  Supreme  Father  of  All,  and,  bowing  his  head  ex- 
 pires. He  dies ;  and  yet  his  murders  live.  His  death 
 raifes  a  guilty  world  to  life.  Tremendous  myftery  I 
 Not  to  be  explained,  till  the  veil  of  time  be  rent  afun- 
 der,  and  eternity  expofe  to  view  the  amazing  feene  of 
 Divine  Governaient,  too  vaft  for  mortal  comprehenfion. 
 Glory  to  God  in  the  higheft  I  On  earth  peace,  and 
 good-will  toward  men  ! 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 AT  lall  I  have,  in  great  weaknefs,  brought  this  long 
 labour  to  a  period.  On  reviewing  the  whole,  I 
 find  it  very  neceffary  to  beg  the  candid  Reader's  indul- 
 gence in  favour  of  many  deficiencies ;  though  I  hope 
 he  has  not  found  in  the  work,  any  one  fentiment,  by 
 Vv^hich  he  may  have  run  the  hazard  of  his  being  de- 
 ceived or  m.ifled  to  his  hurt.  Whoever  duly  contiders 
 the  difadvanrage,  a  writer  labours  under,  who  lives  a 
 life  of  conftant  care  and  labour,  without  ever  knowing 
 what  it  is  to  have  a  vacant  mind,  and  whofe  hours  of 
 lludy  are  only  thofe  few,  which  remain  after  eight  or 
 ten  of  almoft  every  day  in  the  week  indifpenfably  en- 
 gaged 
 
Jteveakd Religion.)      HUMAN  NATURE.  ;      5,^3 
 
 gaged  in  the  laborious  employment  of  teaching,  antl  the 
 other  cares  ahending  the  charge  of  youth  ;  whoever 
 coniiders  this,  and  is,  at  the  fame  time,  at  ail  a  judge  of 
 the  difficulty  of  compofition  ;  will,  it  is  hoped,  be  in- 
 clinable to  make  allowances  for  any  deficiencies,  which 
 may  be  at  all  pardonable.  It  may  indeed  be  anfvvered 
 to  this.  That  a  perfon,  whofe  way  of  life  (exclufive  of 
 other  difadvantages)  necelTirily  deprives  him  of  that 
 leifare  and  vacancy  of  mind,  which  are  of  fuch  confe- 
 quence  to  a  writer,  had  better  quit  that  province  to 
 thofe,  whofe  ftations  allow  them  more  leifare  and  free- 
 dom from  care.  Perhaps  this  aff:irtion  may  be  in  fome 
 meafure  JLift.  And  yet  the  gentlemen,  who  undertake 
 the  education  cf  youth,  do  not  in  general  fcruple  to  be- 
 llow fome  time  in  labouring  for  the  public.  The  pious 
 and  learned  Dr.  Doddridge^  lately  deceafed,  is  a  re- 
 markable inftance  ;  v/ho  fo  hulbanded  the  hours  he 
 chiefly  borrowed  from  the  refrefliments  of  nature,  as  to 
 be  able  to  publifh  fix  or  eight  times  the  bulk  of  this 
 book.  For  my  own  part,  had  my  circumftances  in  life 
 been  equal  to  the  expence  of  printing  this  work,  which 
 never  had  been  undertaken,  if  it  had  not  been  with  a 
 diredl  view  to  the  advantage  of  the  youth  educated  by 
 me,  who,  I  hope,  will  find  it  ufeful  as  an  introduction 
 to  life,  to  fludy,  and  to  moral  and  religious  knowledge; 
 had  my  circumftances,  I  fay,  been  equal  to  the  expence 
 of  printing  this  book,  and  giving  it  them  gratis ;  I 
 fliould  not  have  troubled  the  public  with  it  ;  nor  do  I 
 intend  ever  more  to  undertake  any  work  of  fuch  a.lize. 
 
 And  now,  before  I  lay  afide  my  pen,  I  beg  leave  ear- 
 neftly  to  requcft  the  reader,  and  efpecially,  above  all  others, 
 thofe  for  whofe  fake  this  work  was  undertaken,  to  at- 
 tend carefully  to  the  few  following  ferious  remonftrances. 
 If  the  Reader  has  perufed  the  whole  work,  without  re- 
 ceiving any  benefit  or  improvement  from  it,  he  may 
 profit  by  v^\\2X  Jlill  remains ^  by  ferioufly  examining  him- 
 felf  in  the  following  manner: 
 
 *'  Haft  thou  coniidered,  O  my  foul,  what  thou  art, 
 and  for  what  created  ?  Doft  thou  habitually  think  of 
 thyfelf  as  an  intelligence  capable  of  immortality,  and 
 brought  into  being  on  purpofe  for  endlefs  and  incon- 
 ceivable happincfs?  Does. the  thought  of  an  hereafter 
 
 M  m  3  ,   engage 
 
§34  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV 
 
 engage  thy  Supreme  attention  ?  Is  eternity  for  ever  in 
 thy  view  ?  Dolt  thou  faithfully  labour,  vi^ifh,  and  pray, 
 for  the  neceffary  abilities  and  difpolitions  forafting  upi. 
 to  the  dignity  of  thy  nature,  and  the  end  of  thy  crea- 
 tion ?  Or  doft  thou  trifle  with  what  is  to  thee  of  infinite 
 importance?  Thou  M^oulclfl  not  fureiy  fufFer  rhyfeit"  to 
 be  deceived  out  of  thy  happinefs  ?  Thou  wouldft  not  put 
 out  the  eye  of  thy  reafon,  and  rufh  headlong  upon  de- 
 ftrudion  ?  Try  thy  prudence  and  iincerity,  then,  by 
 comparing  the  diligence  thou  ufert,  and  the  care  thou 
 beftoweft,  upon  the  things  thou  knoweft  thyielfto  befin- 
 cerely  attached  to,  with  what  thou  tbink'lt  fufticient  for 
 fecuring  an  eternity  of  hsppinefs.  Doft  thou  rife  early 
 and  fit  up  late,  to  get  a  wretched  pittance  of  the  perifli- 
 ing  wealth  of  this  world  ?  And  doft  thou  wholly  forget, 
 that  thou  haft  an  eternity  to  provide  for  ?  Is  money  thy 
 iirft  thought  in  the  morning,  and  thy  laft  at  night,  and 
 the  fubjecl  of  every  hour  betv/een  ?  And  canft  thou  find 
 no  vacant  moment  for  a  thought  about  thy  great  intereft? 
 Art  thou  ever  ready,  and  upon  the  carch,  to  feize  the 
 empty  bubbles  of  life,  as  they  float  along  the  ftream  of 
 time  ?  And  doft  thou  let  flip  the  only  opportunity  for 
 making  provifion  for  futurity  ;  the  opportunity,  which, 
 'if  it  once  eicapes  thee,  thou  knoweli,  a  whole  eternity 
 will  never  more  bring  back  ?  Doit  thou  iufpt^ft  every  per- 
 fon,  and  watch  over  every  circumftance,  that  may  any 
 way  aftect  thy  worldly  affairs  ?  And  drift  thou  take  up 
 with  any  fecnrity,  .or  with  abfolute  uncertainty,  to  found 
 thy  profpeft  of  future  happinefs  upon  ?  Thou  doft  not 
 count  it  prudence  to  fay  to  thyfelf.  Riches  will  flow  in 
 of  themfelves  ;  I  fhall  of  courfe  rife  to  a  ftation  of 
 honour.  And  doft  thou  think  it  wife  to  fay,  God  is 
 merciful ;  he  will  not  punifh  my  negled  of  him,  or  my 
 rebellion  againft  him  ;  though  both  Scripture  and  reafon 
 fuew  it  to  be  impoflible,  that  vice  fliould  in  the  end 
 be  happy  ?  Or  doft  thou  pretend  to  have  found  out  a 
 new  Vv^ay  to  happinefs  ?  Doft  thou  propofe  to  outwit 
 Infinite  Wifdom  ?  Thou  canft  not  fureiy  think  of  being 
 happy,  withoutbeing  virtuous  ?  Thou  canft  not  dream 
 of  a  rational  creature's  coming  to  happinefs  under  the 
 government  of  aBeing  of  infinite  purity,  while  his  whole 
 nature  is  depraved  and  polluted  by  vice  ?  _Does  any 
 
 wiib 
 
Revealed  Religion,]        HITMAN  NATURE.  535 
 
 wife  Prince  pardon  a  rebellious  fubjed,  while  he  con- 
 tinues in  a  ftate  of  rebellion  ?  Doft  thou  exped  that  the 
 infinitely  wife  Governor  of  the  Univerfe  ftiould,  for  love 
 of  thee,  new-modelJiis  auguft  oeconomy,  reverfe  his 
 unchangeable  laws,  and  take  an  enemy  to  all  good  into  his 
 bofom  ?  Doft  thou  even  imagine  it  pofiibie,  that  He, 
 whofe  nature  is  unchangeably  good,  fhould  ever  change 
 fo,  as  to  become  the  friend  of  vice  ?  Haft  thou  any 
 conception  of  the  poffibility  of  happinef->'s  being  the 
 confequence  of  vice  ?  Canft  thou  conceive,  that  hea- 
 ven would  be  heaven  to  a  being  whole  faculties 
 were  overturned,  whofe  moral  fenfe  was  perverted  ; 
 to  whofe  mind  goodnefs  had  no  beauty  ;  to  whofe  un- 
 derftanding  truth  and  virtue  were  no  adequate  objects  ; 
 w'ho  couid  receive  no  joy  from  the  contemplation  of 
 moral  excellence  ?  who  would  prefer  a  fenfual  gratifica- 
 tion to  the  beatific  vi^on  of  God  ?  And  doft  thou  found 
 thy  hopes  of  future  happinefs  upon  a  direcl  impoffibi— 
 lity  ?  Doft  "thou  aflure  thyfelfof  obtaining  what  it  is 
 clearly  impoftible  thou  ever  fnouldft  obtain,  and  what 
 if  thou  doft  not,  obtain,  thou  art  utterly  undone  ?  But 
 thou  fayeft,  that  this  is  not  thy  dreadful  cafe.  That  thou 
 proceedeft:  upon  a  more  prudent  fcheme,  in  a  matter, 
 upon  which  thy  all  depends. 
 
 "  Doft  thou,  then  make  it  thy  fupreme  care  to  per- 
 form thy  whole  duty,  without  neglecting  the  ieaft  arti- 
 cle of  it,  however  difagreeable  to  thy  temper,  or  turn 
 of  mind  ;  and  to  avoid  every  vice,  every  temptation  to 
 every  vice,  every  appearance  of  every  vice,  however 
 grateful  to  thy  depraved  d-ifpofition  ?  Doft  thou  con- 
 ftantly  watch  over  thyfelf  j  doft  thou  fufped:  every  other 
 perfon,  left  his  example,  or  influence,  miflcad  thee  ? 
 Do  thou  often,  and  regularly,  meditate  on  thy  ways,  and 
 examine  thy  heart  and  thy  life?  Doft  thou  perfectly 
 know  thy  own  weaknefs  ?  Haft;  thou  all  thy  infirmities 
 engraven  on  thy  remembrance?  Are  thy  fins  ever  before 
 thee  ?  Doft  thou  dread  vice  more  than  poverty,  pain, 
 or  death  ?  Doft  thou  carefully  reftrain  every  pafiion  and 
 appetite  within  due  bounds  ?  Art  thou  afraid  of  the 
 fatal  allurements  of  riches,  honours,  and  pleafures  ? 
 Doft:  thou  indulge  them  fparingly  ?  Doft  thou  enjoy  the 
 gratifications  of  fenfe   with  fear  and  trembling  ?    Art 
 
 M  m  4  thoLi 
 
S3<5  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 thou  ever  fufpicious  of  thy  frail  nature,  on  this  dangerous 
 Jide  ?  Doft  thou  carefully  fteer  clear  of  the  rocks,  on 
 which  multitudes  have  itruck,  and  made  fhipwreck  of 
 their  fouls?  Or  doft  thou,  in  infolent  confidence  of  thy 
 own  fancied  ftrength  of  mind,  dally  with  temptation, 
 and  play  upon  the  brink  of  vice  and  deftrudion  ?  Doft 
 thou  habitually  labour  to  make  fuve  of  keeping  within 
 bounds  ?  Doft  thou  often  deny  thyfelf,  rather  than  run 
 the  fmalleft  hazard  of  offending?  Doft  thou  live  fuch  a  life 
 of  temperance,  that  thou  couldft  at  any  time  enjoy  the 
 fat  is  fad  ion  of  a  peaceful  mind,  and  a  good  confciencej 
 though  at  once  deprived  of  all  the  gaieties  and  amufe- 
 ments  of  affluence  ?  Or  doft,  thou  gire  thyfelf  up  wholly 
 to  eafe  and  indolence  :  to  luxury  and  intemperance  ; 
 to  pleafure  and  folly  ?  Doft  thou  take  thy  fwing,  without 
 reftraint  or  meafure,  of  every  lawlefs  enjoyment;  as  if 
 the  prefent  ftate  were  never  to  come  to  an  end  ;  as  if 
 thou  hadft  been  created  only  for  pleafure  and  idlenefs  ; 
 as  if  thou  thought'ft  of  afuture  ftate,  notof  afpiritual  ex- 
 iftence  ;  of  perpetual  improvement  in  wifdom  and  good- 
 nefs ;  and  of  fublime  employment  and  aclion  ;  but  of 
 a  Mahometan  paradife,  an  endlefs  fcenti  of  luxury  and 
 fenfuality  ?  If  thou  art  in  good  earneft  refolved  to  con- 
 quer thy  unruly  pafllons,  to  reftrain  thy  fenfual  appe- 
 tities,  and  to  regulate  the  motions  of  thy  mmd  accord- 
 ing to  the  didates  of  reafon  and  confcience,  and  the 
 more  fure  diredions  of  Divine  Revelation,  thou  wilt 
 ftudy  thyfelf  moxt  than  all  the  fciences  \  thou  vvilt  often 
 retire  within  thyfelf;  thou  wilt  be  ever  finding  in  thy 
 own  mind  fomething  to  regulate  and  redrefs ;  thou  wilt 
 not  fly  from  thyfelf;  thou  wilt  not  be  continually  rack- 
 ing thy  invention  to  find  outlomewhat  to  drown  thought 
 and  rtfleclion  ;  thou  wilt  beg  of  thy  friends. to  hold  up 
 to  thee  the  mirror  of  faithful  reraonftrance  ;  thou  wilt 
 not  court  the  flavifti  flatterer  to  pour  through  thy  ears 
 the  lufcious  poifon,  w^hich  ftupifies  the  mind,  and  ren- 
 ders it  infenfible  of  its  own  faults,  and  blind  to  its  own 
 follies.  Thou  wilt  labour  to  work  into  the  very  eftTence 
 of  thy  foul,  the  virtues,  which  are  indifpenfably  necef- 
 ary  for  bringing  and  keeping  it  under  due  regulation. 
 Confideration,  humility,  felf-knowledge,  felf-reverence  ! 
 Thefe  vi/iil  be  the  great  kffons,  which  it  will  employ  thy 
 
 iifQ 
 
Revealed  Religion.)      HUMAN  NATURE.  537 
 
 life  to  learn.  And  thou  wilt  wifh  for  the  life  of  a  patri- 
 arch to  itudy  them  fuiiy  and  to  reduce  tiicm  to  piuct.ce, 
 "  Again,  do(l  thou,  O  my  foul,  harbour  any  thought 
 of  mahce,  envy,  or  revenge  againft  thy  fellow-creatute  ? 
 Doft  thou  (land  fo  little  in  awe  of  Him  who  made  thy 
 ftllow-creature  and  thee,  who  will  at  laft  judge  bcth 
 him  and  thee,  and  to  whom  alone  vengeance  belongs  ; 
 doft  thou  fear  him  fo  little,  as  to  think  of  breaki-ig 
 loofe  upon  his  creature  in  hjs  prefence  ?  Haft  thou  con- 
 lidered,  that,  if  thy  Maker  do'  not  ihew  mercy  upon 
 thee,  thou  hadft  better  never  have  been  born  ?  And  doft 
 thou  hope  for  mercy  from  infinite  Purity,  who  (thyfelf 
 an  otfender)  canft  think  of  refufing  mercy  to  thy  bro- 
 ther? Doft  thou  imagine,  that  in  a  future  ftate  of  per- 
 fedl  benevolence,  there  will  be  any  place  found  for  the 
 fordid  mind,  w^hofe  afftrdlions  are  flirunk  and  con- 
 tracled  to  the  narrow  circle  of  felf  and  farriily  ?  Doft 
 thou  think  there  will  be  any  happinefs  for  thee  in  a  ftate 
 of  perfecl  harmony  and  love,  unleis  thou  work  into 
 thy  very  foul  the  god-like  virtue  of  unbounded  benevo- 
 lence ?  Thou  canft  not  think  a  difpolition  to  cruelty,  to 
 deceit,  to  anger,  hatred,  or  revenge  ;  thou  canft  not 
 think  a  mind  given  to  low  craft,  to  narrow  ill-wili,  or  to 
 fordid  fellilhnefs,  can  be  found  fit  for  a  ftate  of  happi- 
 nefs founded  on  univerfal  love  and  kindnefs.  Thoa. 
 canft  not  imagine  that  He,  whofe  very  nature  is  love, 
 will  give  happinefs  to  one,  w^hofe  mind  is  deformed 
 with  angry  and  malevolent  paflions.  Thou  canft  not 
 expect,  that  he  will,  by  giving  admittance  to  one  ill- 
 difpofed  mind,  render  the  happinefs  of  innumerable 
 glorified  beings  precarious.  Nor  canft  thou  even  con- 
 ceive the  poiiibility  of  a  mind's  being  capable  of  hap- 
 pinefs, which  has  not  in  itfelf  fo  much  as  the  founda- 
 tion, or  ftrft  principle,  on  which  happinefs  depends  ;  a 
 temper  qualiried  for  enjoying  happinefs.  It  therefore 
 thou  haft  any  thought  of  being  hereafter  a  member  of 
 that  univerfal  bleffed  fociety  of  chofen  fpirits,  of  the  ex- 
 cellent ones  of  the  earth,  of  fouls  formed  to  love,  and 
 peace,  and  harmony  ;  thou  wilt  fet  thyfelf  in  earneft  to 
 enrich  thy  mind  with  the  heavenly  graces  of  meeknefs, 
 patience,  forbearance,  and  benevolence  ;  and  in  the  ex- 
 ercife  of  thefe  virtues  thou  wilt  find  joys  inconceivable 
 .  to 
 
538  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 to  the  fordid  Tons  of  earth  ;  thou  wilt  endeavour  to  be 
 to  thy  fellow-creatures,  even  in  this  world,  a  guardiaa 
 angel,  and  a  god. 
 
 *'  Dort  thou,  O  my  foul,  confider  thyfelf  as  thecrea-» 
 ture  of  Omnipotence,  formed  to  till  a  place,  and  contri- 
 bute thy  ihare  toward  carrying  on  a  icheme  for  the  hap- 
 pinefs  of  multitudes  ?  Doft  thou  think,  there  is  no  duty 
 owing  by  thee  in  confequence  of  the  honour,  ancf  the 
 favour,  done  thee,  in  calling  thee  forth  from  thy  origi- 
 nal nothing,  and  giving  thee  an  opportunity  to  ad  an 
 iliuftrious  part,  and  rife  in  the  creation  r  Canft  thou 
 think  of  thyfelf  as  capable  of  knowing,  fearing,  loving, 
 and  adoring  the  Supreme  excellence,  and  yet  as  no  way 
 obliged  to  any  of  thefe  duties  ?  Does  not,  on  the  con- 
 trary, the  very  capacity  infer  the  neceffity  of  perform- 
 ing them  ?  Canft  thou  go  on  from  day  to  day,  and 
 from  year  to  year,  without  ever  railing  a  thought  to  thy 
 Creator  ?  Haft  thou  no  ambition  to  ennoble  thy  m.ind 
 with  the  contemplation  of  infinite  excellence?  Haft 
 thou  no  defire  to  imitate  in  thy  low  fphere  the  All- 
 perfect  pattern  ?  Doft  thou  think  ever  to  go  to  God,  if 
 thou  doft  not  love  God  ?  The  very  Heathen  will  tell 
 thee,  fach  a  hope  is  abfurd  I  Doft  thou  think,  thy  Cre- 
 ator will  raife  thee  to  the  enjoyment  of  himfelf  againft 
 thy  own  inclination,  and  in  fpite  of  thy  impiety  ? 
 Siiould  he  now  tranfport  thee  to  the  third  heavens, 
 doft  thou  imagine  thou  wouldft  find  any  enjoyment 
 there, with  a  mind  funk  in  fordid  fenfualiry,  deformed 
 by  vicious  p^fiions,  and  wholly  infenfible  of  the  fublime 
 enjoyments  of  a  ftate  altogether  fpiritual.  As  ever  thou 
 wouldft  come  to  blifs  hereafter,  and  avoid  utter  deftruc- 
 tion,  do  not  deceive  thyfelf  in  a  matter  of  infinite  confe- 
 quence, and  where  a  miftake  will  be  irrecoverable. 
 Thou  knoweft,  that  as  the  tree  falls,  fo  it  will  lie;  that  as 
 death  leaves  thee,  fo  judgment  will  find  thee  ;  that 
 there  will  be  no  miracle  wrought  in  thy  favour,  to  make 
 thee  fit  for  future  happinefs ;  but  that  thou  wilt  of 
 courfe  be  difpofed  of  according  to  what  thou  ftialt  be 
 found  fit  for;  that  thy  future  ftate  will  be  what  thou 
 thyfelf  haft  made  it.  That  therefore  to  think  of  palling 
 thy  life  in  vice  and  fol'y,  and  to  hope  to  be  wafted  to 
 future  jiappinefs  upon  the  wings  of  a  few  lazy  and  in- 
 
 effedual 
 
Jtivealed  Religion.)        HUMAN  NATURE.  539 
 
 eifediiial  wifhes  and  prayers  in  old  age,  or  on  a  death- 
 bed, is  to  expert  to  be  rewarded,  not  according  to  thy 
 works,  but  to  thy  prefiimptuous  hopes.  Which  is  in- 
 coniiltent  borh  with  reafon  and  Scripture.  It  is  to 
 thiok  to  attain  the  greateft  ot  all  prizes,  without  any 
 trouble.  Yet  thou  knoweft  that  even  the  triiies  of  this 
 world  are  not  attained  by  wifliing;  but  by  indullry. 
 It  is  to  imaoine,  that  the  infinitely  wife  Governor  of  the 
 world  will  be  put  off  in  a  manner  which  no  earthly  fu- 
 perior  would  regard  otherwife  than  as  the  higheft  info- 
 lence.  Set  th\ ielf  therefore,  if  thou  haft  anv  thought, 
 in  good  earned  to  difengage  thy  atiention  from  the  viho- 
 nary  deiuiions,  and  fordid  gratifications,  oftheprefent 
 Hate  ;  and  to  fix  thy  aS'edions  on  the  only  objed  that  is 
 worthy  of  thenn,  or  will  prove  adequate  to  them.  Ac- 
 quaint thyfeif  with  his  perfedions.  Solace  thy  ielf  with 
 his  love.  Proftrate  every  power  and  every  faculty  be- 
 fore him,  in  humble  adoration,  and  felf-annihilation. 
 Truft  to  him  (in  well-doing)  for  the  fupply  of  every 
 want,  for  the  life  that  now  is,  and  for  eternity.  Sacri- 
 fice every  favourite  paffion,  and  every  craving  appetite, 
 every  profpedt  in  life,  with  family,  and  friends,  and 
 life  itfelf^  to  his  obedience.  Never  think  thou  had 
 done  enough,  or  canft  do  too  much,  to  gain  his  appro- 
 bation. For  if  thou  doft  but  fecure  that,  it  will  be  of 
 no  confequence  to  thee,  if  all  the  princes  and  poten- 
 tates on  earth  frown  upon  thee. 
 
 **  Haft  thou  confidered,  O  my  foul,  the  ftupendous 
 fcene,  which  Revelation  opens  before  thee  ?  Hafl  thou, 
 attended  tp  the  view  there  given  of  the  dignity  of  thy 
 nature  }  It  is  to  reifore  thee,  and  thy  unhappyolfcMiding 
 fellow-creatures,  to  pardon,  to  virtue,  and  to  happineis, 
 that  Heaven  came  down  to  tabernacle  with  men  ;  that 
 the  Lord  of  angels  and  archangels  humbled  himfelf  to 
 die  by  the  hands,  w'hich  himfelf,  by  the  power  of  the 
 Father,  created.  It  was  to  raife  thee,  and  fuch  as  thee, 
 mean  and  wretched  as  thou  art  at  prefent,  to  greatncf* 
 and  glory,  inconceivable  not  only  to  thyfell,  but  to 
 the  brighteft  feraph  in  heaven  ;  it  wa^for  this,  that 
 he,  whom  the  celeftial  hofts  obey,  humbled  himfelf  to 
 a  ftation,  and  underwent  fufferings,  which  thou  wouldll 
 ^hinl>:  thyfeif  (guilty  -as  thou  arcj    hardly  treated  in 
 
 being 
 
540  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  IV. 
 
 tcing  expofed  to.  And  canft  thou,  O  my  foul,  allow 
 thyi'Jit  [o  think  of  vice  as  flight,  or  venial,  which  to 
 prevent,  and  whofe  f-ital  eflfeds  to  cure,  thou  knowed 
 M'hat  an  apparatus  has  by  Infinite  Wifdom  been 
 thought  necellary  ?  Canft  thou  think  of  any  thing  as 
 defirable,  befidcs  virtue;  which  alone  will,  through 
 the  Divine  Mercy,  fecure  univerl'al  happinefs  ?  Canfl: 
 thou  think  of  any  thing  as  terrible  but  vice,  which,  if 
 fufFered  to  prevail,  would  unhinge  the  creation? 
 Wilt  thou  not  attend  to  the  only  Icflbn  thou  art 
 placed  in  this  ftate  of  difcipline  to  learn, — Obedience? 
 Wilt  thou  fhut  thine  eyes,  and  ftop  thine  ears,  againft 
 every  objed:  around  thee?  For  every  objedt  teaches  that 
 important  leiTon?  Wilt  thou  pervert  thy  own  under- 
 ftanding,  and  blind  thy  own  confcience?  For  the  ex- 
 cellence of  virtue,  and  the  ruinous  tendency  of  vice, 
 are  written  upon  every  faculty  of  the  mind  in  cha- 
 radters  indelible  ?  Wilt  thou,  to  crown  all,  to  feal  thy 
 own  deftrudlion,  and  heap  on  thyfelf  damnation,  wilt 
 thou  neglect  or  oppofe  the  immediate  call  of  Heaven 
 itlelf,  warning  thee  to  flee  from  the  v;rath  to  come,  and 
 to  work  out  w^ith  fear  and  trembling  thy  own  falva- 
 tion  ?  Thou  canft  not  think  thyfelf  fure  of  happinefs, 
 without  taking  the  leaft  tliought  about  it  ?  Thou  canft 
 not  imagine  it  abfolutely  impofiible  that  thou  fliouldft 
 come  to  defciudion  :  If  that  were  the  cafe,  to  what 
 purpofe  vvas  confcience  placed  in  the  human  breaft  ? 
 To  what  end  were  the  awful  warnings  of  ficknefs  and 
 pain,  of  judgments  from  heaven  on  guilty  nations,  and 
 death,  the  bitter  draught  to  be  drunk  by  every  indi- 
 vidual of  the  fpecies ;  for  what  end  were  thofe  warn- 
 ings fent,  if  future  happinefs  were  the  unavoidable 
 and  appointed  fate  of  all  mankind  proraifcuoufly,  the 
 vicious  as  well  as  the  virtuous,  the  impious  as  well  as 
 the  devout  ?  As  to  revelation,  it  is  the  awful  voice  of 
 God  himfelf.  Hear  how  kind,  and  yet  how  folemn  its 
 remonftrances ! 
 
 "  Hear,  O  Heavens  I  give  ear,  O  Earth  !  To  thee,  O 
 Man,  I  call  I  My  voice  is  to  the  Sons  of  men.  The 
 Judge  of  all  the  earth  vvill  do  right.  He  will  by  no 
 means  clear  the  (impertinently)  wicked.  Heisacon- 
 fuining  fire  to  the  workers  of  iniquity.     He  is  of  purer 
 
 eyes 
 
Revealed  Religion.)         HUMAN  NATURE.  54- 
 
 eyes  than  to  behold  iniquity,  or' look  upon  evil.  The 
 wicked  fliall  not  ftand  in  his  fight.  Ail  that  forget  God 
 fhall  be  turned  into  hell.  The  foul  that  fins  it  (liall  die. 
 Without  holinefs  no  man  fiiall  fee  the  Lord.  For  every 
 idle  word  men  fhail  be  brought  intojudgment.  If  any  man 
 bridles  not  his  tongue,  that  man's  religion  is  vain.  Let 
 every  one  who  names  the  name  of  Ckrijl  depart  from 
 iniquity.  Let  him  ckanfe  himfeif  from  all  filthinefs  of 
 flefh  and  fpirit,  and  perfect  holinefs  in  the  fear  of  God. 
 Let  him  keep  himfeif  unfpotted  trom  the  world;  for  if 
 any  man  love  the  world,  and  the  things  of  the  W'Orld, 
 the  love  of  the  Father  is  not  in  him.  Let  him  avoid 
 every  appearance  of  evil.  Let  him  lay  afide  every 
 weight,  and  the  fin  that  does  the  mod  eafily  befet  him, 
 and  run  the  race  fet  before  him.  Let  him  pluck  out 
 right  eyes,  and  cut  off  right  hands ;  that  is,  root  out 
 vicious  inclinations,  though  as  dear  to  him,  and  as  hard 
 to  part  with.  Let  him  refolve  faithfully  to  pradife 
 whatfoever  things  are  true,  honeft,  pure,  lovely,  and 
 of  good  report.  Let  him  ftudy  the  virtues  of  humility, 
 rneeknefs,  patience,  forbearance,  refignation,  fortitude. 
 Let  him  deny  ungodlinefs  and  worldly  lull:,  and  re- 
 folve to  live  foberly,  righteoufly,  and  godly.  Let  him 
 have  refped:  to  all  the  Divine  commandments;  for 
 whoever  (habitually)  offends  in  o?ie  point,  is  guilty 
 againft  the  whole  law ;  as  he  thereby  infults  the  autho- 
 rity vi'hich  framed  the  whole.  If  any  man  will  be  a 
 difciple  of  Cbrijl,  let  him  deny  himfeif,  and  take  up  his 
 ciofs  (if  he  be  called  to  it)  and  follow  him.  For  he  who 
 does  not  hate  (that  is,  overlook)  fither  and  mother,  and 
 wife  and  children,  and  houfes  and  lands,  fjr  his  fake,  is 
 not  worthy  of  him.  And  whoever,  in  the  worft  of 
 'times,  denies  Chrijl,  and  his  religion,  before  men,  him 
 will  Cbriji  deny  before  his  Father  and  his  holy  angels. 
 For  the  difciplcs  of  Cbrijl  mud  not  fear  them  who  can 
 only  kill  the  body,  but  after  that  can  do  no  more.  He 
 has  forewarned  them  whom  they  fliall  fear ;  even  Him, 
 who,  after  he  has  killed  the  body,  can  likewife  dcdroy 
 the  foul  in  hell.  Let  the  Chriilian  llrive  to  enter  in  at 
 the  ftrait  gate :  For  firait  is  the  gate,  and  narrow 
 the  way,  which  leads  to  life,  and  few  there  be  that  find 
 it  j  and  wide  is  the  gate,  and  broad  the  way,  which  leads 
 
 4  to 
 
^4^  THE  DIGNITY  OF  (Book  Hf. 
 
 to  deIlra(^ion,   and  many  there  be   who  go  in  thereat. 
 Let  him  give  diligence  to  make  his  calling  and  ele clion 
 fare.    I^ct  him  keep  his  loins  girded,  ai^d  his  lamp  burn- 
 ing, like  thofe  who  wait  for  the  coming  of  their  lord. 
 Let  him  ftand  faft  in  the  faith  withoujt  wavering.     Let 
 him   rake  the   vihole  armour    of  God,    lince  he  mull 
 wreftle  not  only  with  flefn  and  blood,  but  with  princi- 
 palities and  povve'rs.    Let  him  add  to  his  fiith  virtue,  and 
 knowledge,  and  temperance,   and  pa'i.ence,   and  godli- 
 jiefs,  and  benevolence.     Let  him  be  careful  that  all  thofe 
 virtues  be  in  him  ;  and  that  they  abound  and  increafe. 
 Let  him  refolve  to  go  on  to  peifcction,   forgetting  paft 
 attainments,  and  rea,ching  forward  to  the  things  which 
 are  before,  or  thofe  degrees  of  virtue  which  he  has  not 
 yet  attained ;    let  him   endeavour    to   walk    as  Chriji 
 walked,  (not  form  his  character  according  to  the  exanir 
 pie  of  men  of  the  world) ;  let  him  be  a  follower  of  God, 
 (not  of  fafliion)  ;  let  him  endeavour  to  be  perfedl,  even 
 as  his  heavenly  Fat  her  is  perfed:^     Let  him  not  be  con- 
 tented with  ordinary  degrees  of  goodnefs;  but  take  care 
 that  his  righteoufnefs  exceed  that  of  fcribes  and  phari- 
 fees,   and   formal   profeffbrs.     And  let  him  refolve,-  in 
 fpite  of  all  oppofition,  to  perfevere  to  the  end,  fighting 
 the  good  fight  of  f.iith,  and  working  out  his  own  faiva- 
 tion.     For  the  Son  of  man  fliarli  come  in  his  g'ory,  and 
 all  his  holy  angels  with  him  ;  and  he  (liall  lit  on  the 
 throne  of  his  glory.     And  before  him  lliall  be  gathered 
 all  nations.      And  he  fliall  feparote  the  good  from  the 
 ^vicked.     And  he  fiiall   fay  to  the  good  on  his  right 
 hand.  Come,  ye  bleffed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the  king- 
 dom prepared  for  you  from  the  foundation  of  the  world. 
 And  on  the  wicked  on  his  left,  he  (liail  pafs  the  dread- 
 ful and  irreveriible  fentence,  Depart,  ye  curfed,   into- 
 everlsiling  fire^  prepare- d  for  the  devil  and  his  angels. 
 
 **  Here  is  what  ought  to  the  higbeft  degree  to  alarm' 
 thee,  O  my  foul,  if  thou  hafi  not  given  thyfelf  up  to  a 
 fpirit  of  Itupidity  and  infenlibility.  Conlider,  in  time, 
 ere  it  be  too  late,  what  thou  hail  to  do.  Here  is  life 
 and  death,  the  blefiing  and  the  cprfe,  fairly  fet  before 
 thee  for  thy  choice.  If  thou  deceiveit  thyfelf,  thou 
 alone  wilt  be  the  lofer ;  and  thy  lofs  will  be  irretrieve- 
 able.  For  it  is  the  lofs  not  of  fading  wealth,  or  mo- 
 mentary 
 
Revealed  Renglon.)     HUMAN  NATURE.  5/3. 
 
 mentary  pleafare,  but  of  endleis  happinefs  and  incon- 
 ceivable glory.  It  is  the  lofs  ot'  thyfelf.  AwA  what 
 wiit  thou  find  to  make  thee  up  for  the  lofs  of  ih>relf  ? 
 Put  then  the  cafe  the  mod:  that  can  be  to  the  atlvantage 
 of  tlie  choice  of  virtue  ;  flill  thou  vyilt  find  virtue  to  he 
 thy  true  wifdom,  and  thy  only  intereft  ;  and  the  choice 
 of  vice  to  be  the  very  madnefs  of  folly.  Suppol,-,  011 
 one  hand,  thou  wert  fure  thou  couljfi:,  by  various 
 wicked  arts,  attain  the  full  enjoyment  of  every  earti  ly 
 delight ;  that  thou  wert  certain  of  gaining  the  empire 
 of  the  world,  and  of  revelling  in  wealth  and  wantoii- 
 nefs,  like  the  leviathan  in  the  deep,  for  a  whole  century 
 of  years  :  If  for  this  thou  wert  to  fell  thy  everlatting 
 happinefs;  if  for  this  thou  wert  to  expole  thyfelf  to 
 utter  deflrudion,  where  would  be  the  gain?  Rather, 
 would  not  the  lofs  be  infinite,  and  the  folly  of  choofing 
 it  infinite?  Suppofe,  on  the  other  hand,  that  virtue  and 
 religion  abfolutely  required  thy  fubmittii)g  to  poverty, 
 afflid:ion,  and  perfecution  for  life,  and  to  the  fiery  trial  of 
 martyrdom  at  lart;  to  confider,  whether  thou  ought' It 
 in  prudence  to  choofe  the  light  afflidlions  of  the  pre- 
 fent  flate,  which  are  but  for  a  moment,  and  are  to  be 
 followed  with  an  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of 
 glory;  or  to  throw  thyfelf  into  the  hideous  ruin  and 
 perdition,  which  awaits  the  wicked  hereafter;  to  con- 
 fider or  hefitate  which  of  thefe  ought  to  be  chofen, 
 would  it  not  be  a  folly  infinitely  greater  than  his,  who 
 fhould  hefitate  whether  he  ought  to  throw  himfelf  out 
 of  a  window  when  the  houfe  is  on  fire,  or  to  take  to  the 
 boat  when  thefliip  is  finking?  Suppofe,  that  the  future 
 ifiae  of  virtue  and  vice  refpectively  were  in  fome  niea- 
 fure  doubtful,  inilead  of  being  certain  :  Suppofe  it  were 
 pofiible,  that  vice  might,  by  iome  inconceivable  means, 
 come  to  efcape,  and  that  there  were  any  appearance  of 
 common  fenfe  in  hnagining  that  it  might  fo  happen, 
 that  virtue  might  mifs  of  its  reward  hereafter;  vvjio 
 would  hefitate  a  moment,  whether  he  ought  to  choofe 
 v»?hat  he  knows  he  cannot  long  enjoy  at  any  rate,  and  to 
 j-ejedl  what,  if  he  attains  ir,  will  hold  to  eternity  ;  whe- 
 ther he  ought  to  avoid  alBictions,  which  he  is  certain 
 mull,  in  a  very  few  years  at  moft,  be  over;  or  to  make 
 fure  of  avoiding  a  punifhment,  which,  if  it  come  upon 
 
 him. 
 
^44-  THE  DIGNITY,  Sec, 
 
 him,  ivill  be  lafling,  and  fevere  beyond  all  imagination*. 
 Upon  any  principle,    the  choice  of  a  vicious' courie  is 
 
 "apparentiy  to  the  highefl  degree  foolilh  and  defperate. 
 
 "But  taking  things  according  to  their  true  ftate,  that  is, 
 choofing  vice,  which  is  the  difeafe  of  the  mind,'..tjie 
 bane  of  peace  and  happinefs  even  in  this  life,  and  re- 
 jecling  virtue,  which,  except  in  the  rare  and  unufual 
 cafe  of  perfecution,  is  its  own  reward,  even  in  the 
 prefent  ftate ;  a6ting  in  dired  oppofition  to  the  con- 
 \iclion  of  confcience,  to  the  remonftrances  of  the  wife 
 and  good  of  all  ages,  and  to  the  voice  of  Nature,  and 
 of  Divine  Revelation  itfelfl — All  for  the  fake  of  what 
 is  vanity  and  vexation  when  attained,  and  uncertain 
 before-hand  whether  at  all  attainable;  but  certainly 
 Bot  to  be  enjoyed  long,  if  attained  I  To  give  up  a 
 happinefs,  certain,  lafting^  and  immenfe — not  for  the 
 aclual  enjoyment,  but  for  the  bare  expeclation  of  a 
 penfhing  advantage  I— to  fell  one's  foul — not  for  the 
 poiTeffion  of  a  vanity,  but  for  the  uncertain  profpecl  of 
 a  vanity  ! — to  give  up  heaven,  and  brave  damnation — - 
 not  for  a  reality,  but  for  a  dream  I — for  the  hope  of 
 a  dream.  What  words,  what  tongue  of  men  or  angels 
 can  exprefs  the  defperation  of  this  madnefsl  Yet  this  is 
 the  wifdom  of  reafoning  man.  This  is  the  prudence  of 
 the  children  of  this  world.'' 
 
 Let  the  reader  make  it  his  conftant  pra6lice  in  this 
 ijianner  to  examine  himfelf,  with  a  care  proportioned  to 
 the  importance  of  the  worth  of  an  immortal  foul.  And 
 would  to  God  that  the  whole  human  fpecies  could  have 
 *  been  brought  to  the  wifdom  of  valuing  themfeives  ac- 
 cording to  their  worth.  And  that  it  were  poffible,  in 
 a  conlillency  with  the  freedom  of  moral  agents,  that  no 
 one  individual  of  the  human,  or  any  other  rank  of  in- 
 telligences, (hould  utterly  perifli ;  but  that  every  ra- 
 tional mind  that  has  been  bled  with  exiftence,  might  at 
 laft  attain  the  end  of  its  exiftence,  the  beatific  enjoy- 
 ment of  its  Creator. 
 
 THE  EN0. 
 
ifc^rf* 
 
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