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H-OFC 


.-OF-C..*' 


!'vivr'?r' 


HINTS 

TOWARDS 

FORMING  THE  CHARACTER 

OF 

A    YOUNG    PRINCESS. 


vmi  Mi  HI— 1.1  UBMn 


By  HANNAH  MORE. 


IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 

VOL.  I. 


I  call  that  a  complete  and  generous  Education,  which  fits 
a  Perfon  to  perform  juilly,  fkilfully,  and  magnanimoufly,  all 
the  Offices  hoth  of  public  and  private  Life ;  of  Peace  and 
of  War.  Milton. 


THE   FOURTH  EDITION, 

LONDON:     , 

Printed  for  T.  Cadeli   and  W.  Davies,  in  the  Strand. 

1809. 


^ 


v,\ 


to 

THE  RIGHT  REVEREND 

THE  LORD  BISHOP  OF  EXETER. 


MY  LORD, 

^     V-/OULD    it   have    been    forefeen    by 

the   Author  of  the  following  pages, 

"^     that,   in  the   cafe   of  the   illuftrious 

Perfon-who  is  the  fubje6l   of  them, 

the    ftandard    of   Education    would 

j     have   been   fet   fo   high :    and    efpe- 

l     cially,    that   this    Education    would 

^     be    committed     to    fuch     able     and 

diftinguiilied  hands,  the  work  might 

furely  have    been    fpared.      But    as 

VOL.  I.  a  the 


VI  DEDICATION. 

the  Second  Volume  was  gone  to 
the  Preis  before  that  appointment 
was  announced,  which  muft  give 
generai  fatisfaftion,  it  becomes  im- 
portant  to  requefV,  that  if  the  advice 
fuggeiled  in  any  part  of  the  Work 
ihould  appear  prefumptuous,  your 
Lordfhip,  and  flill  more  the  PubUc, 
who  might  be  more  forward  than 
your  Lordiliip  in  charging  the  Au- 
thor with  prefumption,  will  have 
the  candour  to  recolleft,  that  it  was 
offered,  not  to  the  learned  BijQiop 
of  Exeter,  but  to  an  unknown,  and 
even  to  an  imaginary  Preceptor. 

Under  thefe  circumftances,  your 
Lordfhip  will  perhaps  have  the  goodr- 
nefs    to    accept    the    Dedication    of 

2  thefe 


DEDICATION.  Vll 

thefe  flight  Volumes,  not  as  arro- 
gantly pointing  out  duties  to  the 
difcharge  of  which  you  are  fo  com- 
petent, but  as  a  mark  of  the  refpe6l 
and  efteem  with  which  I  have  the 
honour  to  be, 

MY  LORD, 

Your  Lordfhip's  moft  obedient 
and  moft  faithful  fervant. 


The  AUTHOR. 


April  2, 
1805. 


a  2 


if 


Si 


I 


PREFACE. 


i 


If  any  book,  written  with  an  upright  and 
difinterefted  intention,  may  be  thought  to 
require  an  apology,  it  is  furely  the  flight 
work  which  is  now,  with  the  mofl  refped- 
ful  deference,  fubmitted,  not  to  the  Public 
only,  but  efpecially  to  thofe  who  may  be 
more  immediately  interefted  in  the  impor- 
tant object  which  it  has  in  view. 

If  we  were  to  inquire  what  is,  even  at 
the  prefent  critical  period,  one  of  the  moft 
momentous  concerns  which  can  engage  the 
attention  of  an  Englifliman,  who  feels  for 
his  country  like  a  patriot,  and  for  his  pofte- 
rity  like  a  father;  what  is  that  obje<5l  of 
which  the  importance  is  not  bounded  bj 
the  fhores  of  the  Britilh  Iflands  nor  limited 
by  our  colonial  poflcfTions  ; — with  which, 
in  its  confequences,  the  interefts,  not  only 

a  3  of 


X  PREFACE- 

of  all  Europe,  but  of  the  whole  civilized 
world,  may  hereafter  be  in  fome  meafure 
implicated; — what  Briton  would  hefitate 
to  reply.  The  Education  of  the  Princefs 
Charlotte  of  Wales  ? 

After  this  frank  confelTion  of  the  un- 
fpeakable  importance  of  the  fubje£t  in  view> 
it  is  no  worder  if  the  extreme  difficulty, 
as  well  as  delicacy  of  the  prefent  undertak- 
ing, is  acknowledged  to  be  fenfibly  felt  by 
the  Author. 

It  will  too  probably  be  thought  to  imply 
not  only  officioufnefs,  but  prefumptlon, 
that  a  private  individual  fhould  thus  hazard 
the  obtrufion  of  unfolicited  obfervations  on 
the  proper  mode  of  forming  the  charader 
of  an  Englifh  Princefs. — It  may  feem  to 
involve  an  appearance  of  unwarrantable 
diflruft,  by  implying  an  apprehenfion  of 
fome  deficiency  in  the  plan  about  to  be 
adopted  by  thofe,  whoever  they  mav  be, 
on  whom  this  great  truft  may  be  de- 
volved ;  and  to  indicate  felf-conceit,  by 
conveying  an  intimation,  after  fo  flrong  an 
avowal  of  the  delicacy  and  difliculty  of  the 

taft?:. 


PREFACE.  '  XI 

talk,   that  fiich   a  deficiency  is  within  the 
powers  of  the  Author  to  fupply. 

That  Author,  however,  earneftly  defires, 
as  far  as  it  may  be  pofiible,  to  obviate  thefe 
anticipated  charges,  by  alleging  that  under 
this  free  conftitution,  in  which  every  topic 
of  national  policy  is  openly  canvaffed,  and 
in  which  the  prerogatives  of  the  Crown 
form  no  mean  part  of  the  liberty  of  the 
fubjedl,  the  principles  which  it  is  proper 
to  inflil  into  a  royal  perfonage,  become  a 
topic,  which,  if  difcufled  refpe£lfully,  may, 
without  offence,  exercife  the  liberty  of  the 
Britifli  Prefs. 

The  Writer  is  very  far,  indeed,  from  pre- 
tending to  offer  any  thing  approaching  to  a 
fyflem  of  inftruftion  for  the  Royal  Pupil, 
much  lefs  from  prefuming  to  d "elate  a  plan 
of  conduct  to  the  Preceptor.  What  is  here 
prefented,  is  a  mere  outline,  which  may  be 
filled  up  by  far  more  able  hands  ;  a  fketch 
which  contains  no  confecutive  details,  which 
neither  afpires  to  regularity  of  defign,  nor 
exa£lnefs  of  execution. 

a  4  To 


XU     -  PREFACE. 

To  awaken  a  lively  attention  to  a  fubje^ 
of  fuch  moment ;  to  point  out  fome  cir- 
cumftances  conneded  with  the  early  feafon 
of  improvement,  but  ftill  more  with  the 
fubfequent  Itages  of  life;  to  offer,  not  a 
treatife  on  Education,  but  a  defultory 
fuggeftion  of  fentiments  and  principles  j  to 
convey  inftrudion,  not  fo  much  by  precept 
or  by  argument,  as  to  exemplify  it  by 
illuftrations  and  examples  ;  and,  above  all, 
to  flimulate  the  wife  and  the  good  to  exer- 
tions far  more  effeftual ;  thefe  are  the  real 
motives  which  have  given  birth  to  this 
flender  performance. 

Had  the  Royal  Pupil  been  a  Prince, 
thefe  Hints  would  never  have  been  obtruded 
on  the  world,  as  it  would  then  have  been 
naturally  affumed,  that  the  eflablifhed  plan 
ufally  adopted  in  fuch  cafes  would  have 
been  purfued.  Nor  does  the  Author  pre- 
fume,  in  the  prefent  inftance,  to  infmuate 
a  fufpicion,  that  there  will  be  any  want  of 
a  large  and  liberal  fcope  in  the  projefted 
fyflem,  or  to  intimate  an  apprehenfion  that 

the 


PREFACE.  XUI 

the  courfe  of  fludy  \vill  be  adapted  to  the 
fex,  rather  than  to  the  circumftances  of  the 
Princefs. 

If,  however,  it  fhould  be  alked,  why  a 
ftranger  prefumes  to  interfere  in  a  matter 
of  fuch  high  concern  ?  It  may  be  anfwered 
in  the  words  of  an  elegant  critic,  that  in 
claffic  flory,  when  a  fuperb  and  lading 
monument  was  about  to  be  confecrated  to 
beauty,  every  lover  was  permitted  to  carry 
a  tribute. 

The  appearance  of  a  valuable  elementary 
work  on  the  principles  of  Chriflianity, 
which  has  been  recently  publifhed  in  our 
language,  tranilated  from  the  German, 
under  the  immediate  patronage  of  an  auguft 
Perfonage,  for  the  avowed  purpofe  of  benefit 
to  her  illuflrious  daughters,  as  it  is  an  event 
highly  aufpicious  to  the  general  interefls  of 
religion,  fo  is  it  a  circumflance  very  en- 
couraging to  the  prefent  undertaking. 

It  is  impoffible  to  write  on  fuch  points 
as  are  difcuffed  in  this  little  work,  v  ithout 
being  led  to  draw  a  comparifon  between 

the 


XIV  PREFACE. 

the  lot  of  a  Britifh  fubjedl,  and  that  of  one 
who  treats  on  fimilar  topics  under  a  defpotic 
government. — The  excellent  Archbiftiop  of 
Cambray,  with  every  advantage  which 
genius,  learning,  profeflion,  and  fituation 
could  con'er;  the  admired  preceptor  of  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy,  appointed  to  the  office 
by  the  King  himfelf,  was  yet,  in  the  beauti- 
ful work  which  he  compofed  for  the  ufe  of 
his  Royal  Pupil,  driven  to  the  neceiTity  of 
couching  his  inflruclions  under  a  fictitious 
narrative,  and  of  flieltering  behind  the  veil 
of  fable,  the  duties  of  a  juft  fovereign,  and 
the  bleffings  of  a  good  government :  he  was 
aware,  that  even  under  this  difguife,  his 
delineation  of  both  would  too  probably  be 
confirued  into  a  fatire  on  the  perfonal  errors 
of  his  own  king,  and  the  vices  of  the  French 
government ;  and  in  fpite  of  his  ingenious 
difcretion,  the  event  juftified  his  apprehen- 
fions. 

Fortunate  are  the  fubjeds  of  that  free 
and  happy  country  who  are  not  driven  to 
have  recourfe  to  any  fucli  expedients  5  who 

mav. 


PREFACE.  XV 

may,  without  danger,  dare  to  exprefs  tem- 
perately what  they  think  lawfully ;  who,  in 
defcribing  the  moll  perfed  form  of  govern- 
ment, inflead  of  recurring  to  poetic  inven- 
tion, need  only  delineate  that  under  which 
they  themfelves  live  ;  who,  in  Iketching  the 
charader,  and  fhadowing  out  the  duties  of 
a  patriot  King,  have  no  occafion  to  turn 
their  eyes  from  their  own  country  to  the 
thrones  of  Ithaca  or  Salentum. 


CON^ 


CONTENTS 

OF 

THE    FIRST    VOLUME. 


CHAP.  I. 

IntroduEfory  Chapter,                  ■ —             — 

Page 

t 

CHAP.  II. 

On  the  Acqiiijttion  ef  Knowledge.        —     — 

10 

CHAP.  III. 

On  the  Importance  of  forming  the  Mind.    — 

24 

CHAP.  IV. 

The  Education  of  a  Sovereign  afpecific  Edu' 

cation.  —  —  —  —      4I 

CHAP.  V. 

Importance  ofjiudying  Ancient  Hijlory.      —       63 

CHAP. 


SVm  CONTENTS*, 

Page 

CHAP.  VI. 

Laws, — Egypt. — Perjia.         •—      •—      —       73 

CHAP.  VII. 
Greece.  —  —  — .  »^       %^ 

CHAP.  VIII. 

Rome.  —  —  —  —       io6 

CHAP.  IX. 

CharaElers  of  H'ljloriansy  ivho  were  themfelves 
concerned  in  the  TranfaEiions  whicJj  they 
record.  —  —  —  —    122 

CHAP.  X. 

ReJleEllons  on  Hijlory. — Ancient  Hijlorians. —  13  e 

^  CHAP.  XI. 

Englijh  Hijlory. -^Mr.  Hume.       —       —       153 

CHAP.  XII. 

Important  ^rax  of  EtigliJIi  Hijlory. — Alfred. 
— King  John. — Henry  VII.         -—       —    162 

CHAP.  XIII. 

Queen  Elizabeth,  ——  ■—  — 177 

CHAP. 


CONTENTS.  XIV. 

Page 

CHAP.  XIV. 

Mcral  Advantages  to  be  drawn  from  the  Study 
of  H'lfiory^  independent  of  the  Examples  it 
exhibits.  —  It  proves  the  Corruption  of 
Human  Nature. — //  demonflrates  the  fuper- 
intending  Power  of  Providence — illuflrated 
by  Inflances.  —  —  —  igi 

CHAP.  XV. 

On  the  diflingiiifiing  CharaBers  of  Chrifli^ 
anity.  —  —  —  —         212 

CHAP.  XVI. 

On  the  Scripture  Evidences  of  Chriflianity.—' 
The  Chriflian  religion  peculiarly  adapted  to 
the  Exigencies  of  Man  ;  attd  efpecially  cal- 
culated to  fupply  the  Defefls  of  Heathen 
Philofophy.  —  —  —  —      228 

CHAP.  XVII. 

The  Ufe  of  Hiflory  in  teaching  the  Choice  of 
Favourites.  —  Flattery.  —  Our  Tafle  im- 
proved in  the  Arts  of  Adulation. — The 
Dangers  of  Flattery  exemplified,         —         261 

CHAP. 


XX  CONTENTS. 

CHAP.   XVIII. 

Religion  necejary  to  the  Well-being  of  States.     284 

CHAP.  XIX. 

Integrity  the  tfue  Political  Wifdom.         —        313 


INTRO- 


INTRODUCTORY  CHAPTER. 

Vv  E  are  told  that  when  a  Ibvereign  of 
ancient  times,  who  wiflied  to  be  a  mathe- 
matician, but  was  deterred  by  the  difficulty 
of  attainment,  alked,  whether  he  could 
not  be  inftru6ted  in  fome  eafier  m.ethod  ; 
the  anfwcr  which  he  received  was,  that 
there  was  no  royal  road  to  geometry.—- 
The  leiTon  contained  in  this  reply  ought 
never  to  be  loft  fight  of,  in  that  moft  im- 
portant and  delicate  of  all  undertakings,  the 
education  of  a  prince. 

It  is  a  truth  which  might  appear  too 
obvious  to  require  enforcing,  and  yet  of  all 
others  it  is  a  truth  moft  liable  to  be  prafti- 
cally  forgotten,  that  the  fame  fubjugation  of 
dchre  and  will,  of  inclinations  and  taftes,  to 

VOL.   I.  B  the 


t  INTRODUCTORY   CHAPTER* 

the  laws  of  reafon  and  confcience,  which 
every  one  wifhes  to  fee  promoted  in  the 
lowefl  ranks  of  fociety,  is  ilill  more  necef- 
fary  in  the  very  higheft,  in  order  to  the 
attainment  either  of  individual  happinefs^ 
or  of  general  virtue,  to  public-  ufefulnefs, 
or  to  private  felf-enjoyment. 

Where  a  prince,  therefore,  is  to  be  edu- 
cated, his  own  welfare  no  lefs  than  that  of 
his  people,  humanity  no  lefs  than  policy, 
prefcribe,  that  the  claims  and  privileges  of 
the  rational  being  fhould  not  be  fuffered 
to  merge  in  the  peculiar  rights  or  ex- 
emptions of  the  expedant  fovereign.  If, 
in  fuch  cafes,  the  wants  and  weakneffes  of 
human  nature  could  indeed  be  wholly 
effaced,  as  eafily  as  they  are  kept  out  of 
fightj  there  would  at  leaft  be  fome  reafon- 
able  plea  againfl  the  charge  of  cruelty. 
But  when,  on  the  contrary,  the  moft  ele- 
vated monarch  muft  ftili  retain  every  na- 
tural hope  and  fear,  every  affection  and 
pafEon  of  the  heart,  every  frailty  of  the 
mindj  and  every  weaknefs  of  the  body,  to 

which 


INTRODUCTORY    CHAPTER,  3 

which  the  meanefl  fubjedt  is  liable  ;  how 
exquifitely  inhuman  muft  it  be  to  provide 
fo  feduloufly  for  the  extrinfic  accident  of 
tranfient  greatnefs,  as  to  blight  the  growth 
of  fubftantial  virtue,  to  dry  up  the  foun- 
tains of  mental  and  moral  comfort,  and,  in 
fliort,  to  commit  the  ill-fated  vi£lim  of  fuch 
mifmanagement  to  more,  alnxoft,  than 
human  daneers  and  difficulties,  without 
even  the  common  refources  of  the  leaft 
favoured  of  mankind. 

Yet,  muft  not  this  be  the  unaggravated 
confequence  of  not  accufloming  the  royal 
child  to  that  falutary  control  which  the 
corruption  of  our  nature  requires,  as  its 
indifpenfable  and  carlieft  corrective  ?  If  thofe 
foolifti  defires,  which  in  the  great  mafs  of 
mankind  are  providentially  repreffed  by  the 
want  of  means  to  gratify  them,  fhould,  in 
the  cafe  of  royalty,  be  thought  warrantable, 
becaufe  every  poflible  gratification  is  within 
reach,  what  would  be  the  refult,  but  the  full 
blown  luxuriance  of  folly,  vice,  and  mi- 
•iery  ?    The    laws   of   human   nature    will 

B  2  not 


SKnOBOCTOMX  CHAPTZS* 


to  be  fiinToiii. 


1- 


fr^  .  _  __i  _:  ias  officers  _  .  :: 
1^  V  „  ^  ias  feesBt,  he  ^d,  -  Fir::.s 
r^  ~  V  m^  are  aiafw^a^Me  to  C    :  ' '  •"  ^ 

:f    r  i  ^  peco&r   adv^ag^   ^cx 

Bs-    aa    adnosi^e  viskb   can    only  bs 

xcfifted 


LZZZQXT  CT=--Z1^ 


^^  "b^  "  Ti^  'rzT.  ^^^<'^  rrscniir  — r=-  Scri- 


As  die  E^sd  gpp***-  ^e 


-Ered  ^^ 


ii  GB^  ever  _     ^        _r--  3  n 

~_r         -  »        T 

:kx  w^ki-    _.     _ad  lOfr^r  ,--7 


?3S 


»3 


6  INTRODUCTORY    CHAPTER. 

iiicatlng  at  that  period,  fuch  flexibility  to 
the  organs,  fuch  retention  to  the  memory, 
fuch  quicknefs  to  the  apprehenfion,  fuch 
inquifitivenefs  to  the  temper,  fuch  alacrity 
to  the  animal  fpirits,  and  fuch  impreffibility 
to  the  afFedions,  as  are  not  pofTeffed  at  any 
fubfequent  period.  We  are  therefore  bound 
by  every  tie  of  duty  to  follow  thefe  obvious 
defignations  of  Providence,  by  moulding 
that  flexibility  to  the  mofl  durable  ends; 
by  ftoring  that  memory  with  the  richefl 
knowledge ;  by  pointing  that  apprehenfion 
to  the  higheft  objefts ;  by  giving  to  that  ala- 
crity its  befl:  direction ;  by  turnmg  that  inqui- 
fitivenefs to  the  noblefl  intelleftual  purpofes; 
and,  above  all,  by  converting  that  imprefllbi- 
lity  of  heart  to  the  moil  exalted  moral  ufes. 

If  this  be  true  in  general,  much  more 
forcibly  does  it  apply  to  the  education  of 
princes !  Nothing  fliort  of  the  founded, 
mofl:  rational,  and,  let  me  add,  mofl  reli- 
gious education,  can  counteratl  the  dangers 
to  which  they  are  expofcd.  If  the  higheft 
of  our  nobility,  in  default  of  fome  better 

way 


INTRODUCTORY    CHAPTER.  7 

way  of  guarding  againfl  the  mifchiefs  of 
flatterers  and  dependents,  deem  it  expe- 
dient to  commit  their  fons  to  the  wholefome 
equality  of  a  public  fchool,  in  order  to  re- 
prefs  their  afpiring  notions,  and  check  the 
tendencies  of  their  birth  ;  —  if  they  find  it 
neceflary  to  counteract  the  pernicious  in- 
fluence of  domeftic  luxury,  and  the  corrupt- 
ing foftnefs  of  domeftic  indulgence,  by  fe- 
verity  of  fl:udy  and  clofenefs  of  application  ; 
how  much  more  indifpenfable  is  the  fpirit  of 
this  principle  in  the  inflance  before  us  ?  The 
highefl  nobility  have  their  equals,  their 
competitors,  and  even  their  fuperiors.  Thofe 
who  are  born  within  the  fphere  of  royalty 
are  deflitute  of  all  fuch  extrinfic  means  of 
correftion,  and  mufl  be  wholly  indebted  for 
their  fafety  to  the  foundnefs  of  their  prin- 
ciples, and  the  rectitude  of  their  habits, 
Unlefs,  iherefore,  the  brightefl;  light  of 
reafon  be,  from  the  very  firft,  thrown  upon 
their  path,  and  the  divine  energies  of  our 
holy  religion,  both  reftraining  and  attractive, 
be  brought  as  early  as  poflible  to  ad  upon 

B  4  their 


8  INTRODUCTORY    CHAPTER. 

their  feelings,  the  children  of  royalty,  by 
the  very  fate  of  their  birth,  would  be  *'  of 
all  men  mod  miferable.'* 

Let  it  not,  however,  be  fuppofed,  that 
any  impracticable  rigour  is  here  recom- 
mended ;  or  that  it  is  conceived  to  be  ne- 
celTary  that  the  gay  period  of  childhood 
iliould  be  rendered  gloomy  or  painful, 
whether  in  the  cottage  or  the  palace.  The 
virtue  which  is  aimed  at,  is  not  that  of  the 
Stoic  philofophy  ;  nor  do  the  habits  which 
are  deemed  valuable,  require  the  harfhnefs 
of  a  Spartan  education.  Let  nature,  truth, 
and  reafon,  be  confulted  ;  and,  let  the  child, 
^nd  efpecially  the  royal  child,  be,  as  much 
as  poffible,  trained  according  to  their  fmiple 
and  confident  indications.  The  attention, 
in  fuch  inftances  as  the  prefent,  fhould  be 
the  more  watchful  and  unremitting,  as 
counteracting  influences  are,  in  fo  exalted  a 
ftation,  necefiarily  multiplied ;  and  every 
difficulty  is  at  its  greateil  poflible  height. 
In  a  word,  let  not  common  fenfe,  which  is 
yniverfal  and  eternal,  be  facrificed  to  the 

capricious 


INTRODUCTORY    CHAPTER.  9 

capricious  taftes  of  the  child,  or  to  the  pliant 
principles  of  any  who  may  approach  her. 
But  let  the  virtue  and  the  happinefs  of  the 
royal  pupil  Le  as  fimply,  as  feehngly,  and 
as  uniformly  confulted,  as  if  fhe  were  the 
daughter  of  a  private  gentleman.  May  this 
attention  to  her  moral  and  mental  cultivation 
be  the  fupreme  concern,  from  honefl  re- 
verence to  the  offspring  of  fuch  a  race,  from 
a  dutiful  regard  to  her  own  future  happi- 
nefs, and  from  reafonable  attention  to  the 
well-being  of  thofe  millions,  whofe  earthly 
fate  may  be  at  this  moment  fufpended  on 
ieffons,  and  habits,  received  by  one  provi- 
dentially diftinguiflied  female ! 


CHAP. 


lO  ON    THE    ACQUISITION 


CHAP.  11. 

On  the  Acquifttion  of  Knowledge, 

J.  HE  courfe  of  Infli-udion  for  the  Prlncefsi 
will,  doubllefs,  be  wifely  adapted,  not  only 
to  the  duties,  but  to  the  dangers  of  her 
rank.  The  probability  of  her  having  one 
day  fundions  to  difcharge,  which,  in  fuch 
exempt  cafes  only,  fall  to  the  lot  of  females, 
obviouily  fuggeils  the  expediency  of  an  edu* 
cation  not  only  fuperior  to,  but  in  certain 
refpe£l:s,  diftinft  from,  that  of  other  women. 
What  was  formerly  deemed  neceflary  in  an 
inflance  of  ihis  nature,  may  be  inferred  from 
the  well-known  attainments  of  the  unfortu- 
nate Lady  Jane  Grey  ;  and  ftill  more  from 
the  no  lefs  fplendid  acquirements  of  Queen. 
Elizabeth.  Of  the  erudition  of  the  latter, 
we  have  a  particular  account  from  one,  who 
was  the  fitteil  in  that  age  to  appreciate  it^ 
the  celebrated   Roger  Afchani.      He  tells 

us. 


OF    KNOWLEDGE.  J  I 

US,  that  when  he  read  -  over  with  her  the 
orations  of  Efchines  and  Demoflhenes  in 
Greek,  fhe  not  only  underflood,  at  firfl 
fight,  the  full  force  and  propriety  of  the 
language,  and  the  meaning  of  the  orators, 
but  that  Ihe  comprehended  the  whole 
fcheme  of  the  laws,  cufloms,  and  manners 
of  the  Athenians.  She  poffefled  an  exad 
and  accurate  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures, 
and  had  committed  to  memory  moft  of  the 
ftriking  paffages  in  them.  She  had  alfo 
learned  by  heart  many  of  the  fineil  parts  of 
Thucydides  and  Xenophon,  efpecially  thofe 
which  relate  to  life  and  manners.  Thus 
were  her  early  years  feduloufly  employed  in 
laying  in  a  large  ftock  of  materials  for  go- 
verning well.  To  what  purpofe  Jhe  im- 
proved them,  let  her  illuflrious  reign  of 
forty-five  years  declare  ! 

If  the  influence  of  her  erudition  on  her 
fubfequent  profperity  fhould  be  queftioned  ; 
let  it  be  confidered,  that  her  intelledual 
attainments  fupported  the  dignity  of  her 
charader,  under  foibles  and  feminine  weak- 

nefles. 


li  ON    THE    ACQUISITION 

nefles,  which  would  otherwife  have  funk 
her  credit :  flie  had  even  addrefs  enough  to 
contrive  to  give  to  thofe  weaknelTes  a  cer- 
tain  claflic   grace.     Let   it   be   confidered 
alfo,  that  whatever  tended  to  raife  her  mind 
to  a  level  with  thofe  whofe  fervices  fhe  was 
to  ufe,  and  of  whofe  counfels  fhe  was  to 
avail  herfelf,  proportionably  contributed  to 
that  mutual  refpeft  and  confidence  between 
the  queen  and  her  minifters,  without  which, 
the  refults  of  her  government   could  not 
have  been  equally  fuccefsful.    Almoft  every 
man  of  rank  was  then  a  man  of  letters,  and 
literature  was  valued  accordingly.      Had, 
.  therefore,  deficiency  of  learning  been  added 
to  inferiority  of  fex,  we  might  not  at  this 
day  have  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  on  which 
to  look  back,  as  the  period  in  which  ad- 
miniftrative   energy  feemed   to   attain   the 
greateft  poffible  perfeftion. 

Yet,   though  an  extended  acquaintance 
with  ancient  authors  will  be  neceflary  now, 
as  it  was  then,  in  the  education  of  a  prin- 
cefs  J  a  general  knowledge  of  ancient  lan- 
guages^ 


OF    KNOWLEDGE.  I3 

guages,  it  is  prefumed,  may  be  dlfpenfed 
with.  The  Greek  authors,  at  leafl,  may 
doubtlefs  be  read  with  fufficient  advantage 
through  the  medium  of  a  tranflation ;  the 
fpirit  of  the  original  being,  perhaps,  more 
transfufible  into  the  EngHfh,  than  into  any 
other  modern  tongue.  But  are  there  not 
many  forcible  reafons  why  the  Latin  lan- 
guage fhould  not  be  equally  omitted  *  ? 
Befides  the  advantage  of  reading,  in  their 
original  drefs,  the  hiflorians  of  that  empire, 
the  literature  of  Rome  is  peculiarly  intereft- 
ing,  as  being  the  mofl  fatisfadtory  medium 
through  which  the  moderns  can  obtain  an 
Intimate  knowledge  of  the  ancient  w^orld. 
As  the  Latin  itfelf  is  a  modification  of  one 
of  the  Greek  dialefts,  fo  the  Roman  philo- 
fophers  and  poets,  having  formed  themfelves, 

*  The  royal  father  of  the  illuftrious  pupil  is  faid 
to  poflefs  the  princely  accomplifhment  of  a  pure 
claflical  tafte.  Of  his  love  for  polite  learning,  the 
attention  which  he  is  paying  to  the  recovery  of  cer- 
tain of  the  lofl  works  of  fome  of  the  Roman  authors, 
is  an  evidence. 

ilS 


S4  ON    THE    ACQUISITlO^t 

as  much  as  poflible,  on  Grecian  models,  pfe-. 
fent  to  us  the  nearejfl  poflible  tranfcripts  of 
thofe  maflers  whom  they  copy.  Thus,  by  an 
acquaintance  with  the  Latin  language,  we 
are  brought  into  a  kind  of  adlual  contact 
not  only  with  the  ancient  world,  but  with 
that  portion  of  it  which,  having  the  moft 
diredl  and  the  fulleil  intercourfe  with  the 
other  parts,  introduces  us,  in  a  manner  the 
moil  informing  and  fatisfaclory,  to  claflical 
and  phiiofophical  antiquity  in  general.  But 
what  is  ftill  more,  the  Latin  tongue  enables 
us  for  ourfelves,  without  the  intermediation 
of  any  interpreter,  to  examine  all  the  parti- 
cular circumftances  in  manners,  intercourfe, 
modes  of  thinking  and  fpeaking,  of  that 
period  which  Eternal  Wifdom  chofe  (pro- 
bably becaufe  it  was  ever  after  to  appear 
the  moft  luminous  in  the  whole  retrofpecl 
of  hiftory)  as  fitteft  for  the  advent  of  the 
Meffiah,  and  the  bringing  life  and  immor- 
tality to  light  by  his  gofpel. 

If  to  this  may  be  added  lefler  yet  not  unim- 
portant confiderations,  we  would  fay,  that 

4  by 


OF    KNOWLEDGE.  I^ 

by  the  acquaintance  which  the  Latin  lan- 
guage would  give  her  with  the  etymology 
of  words,  (he  will  learn  to  be  more  accu- 
i-ate  in  her  definitions,  as  well  as  more 
critically  exa£t  and  elegant  in  the  ufe  of  her 
©wn  language  ;  and  her  ability  to  manage 
it  with  gracefulnefs  and  vigour  will  be  con- 
fiderably  increafed  *. 

Of  the  modern  languages,  if  the  author 
dares  hazard  an  opinion,  the  French  and 
German  feem  the  moft  neceffary.  The 
Italian  appears  lefs  important,  as  thofe  aU'* 
thors  which  feem  more  peculiarly  to  belong 
to  her  education,  fuch  as  Davila,  Guicciar- 
■din,  and  Beccaria,  m.ay  be  read  either  in 
French  or  Englifh  tranflations. 

It  is  not  to  be  fuppofed  that  a  perfonage, 
binder  her  peculiar  circumftances,    fhould 

*  "Who  does  not  confider  as  one  of  the  moft  inte" 
xefting  paffages  of  modern  hiftory,  that  which  relates 
"the  efFeft  produced  by  an  eloquent  Latin  oration 
pronounced  in  a  full  affembly,  by  the  late  Emprefs 
Maria  Therefa,  in  the  bloom  of  her  youth  and 
beauty,  fo  late  as  the  year  1740  ?  Antiquity  produces 
nothing  more  touching  of  the  kind. 

have 


!^  ON    THE    ACgUISITION 

Jiave  much  time  to  fpare  for  the  acqulfitbri 
of  what  are  called  the  fine  arts  j  nor,  per- 
haps, is  it  to  be  defired.  To  acquire  them 
in  perfeclion,  would  fleal  away  loo  large  a 
portion  of  thofe  precious  hours  which  will 
barely  fuffice  to  lay  in  the  various  rudiments 
.of  indifpenfable  knowledge  ;  and,  in  this 
faftidious  age,  whatever  falls  far  fliort  of 
perfection,  is  deemed  of  little  worth.  A 
moderate  fldil  in  mufic,  for  inftance,  would 
probably  have  little  other  effed,  than  to 
make  the  lifleners  feel,  as  Farinelli  is  faid 
to  have  done,  who  ufed  to  complain  heavily 
that  the  penfion  of  2000I.  a  ye^r,  which'he 
had  from  the  King  of  Spain,  was  compen- 
fation  little  enough  for  his  being  fometimes 
obliged  to  hear  His  Majefly  play.  Yet  this 
would  be  a  far  lefs  evil  than  that  to  which 
excellence  might  lead.  We  can  think  of 
few  things  more  to  be  deprecated,  than  that 
thofe  who  have  the  greatefl  concerns  to 
purfue,  fliould  have  their  tafles  engaged, 
perhaps  monopolized,  by  trifles.  A  liflener 
to  the  royal  mufic,    if  pofTefled  of  either 

wifdoni 


OF   KNOWLEDGE.  1 7 

wifdom  or  virtue,  could  not  but  feel  his 
pleafure  at  the  moft  exquifite  performance 
abated,  by  the  apprehenfion  that  this  per- 
fedion  implied  the  neglect  of  matters  far 
more  eflential. 

Befides,  to  excel  in  thofe  arts,  which, 
though  merely  ornamental,  are  yet  well 
enough  adapted  to  ladies  who  have  only 
a  fubordinate  part  to  fill  in  life,  would 
rather  lelTen  than  augment  the  dignity  olF 
a  fovereign.  It  was  a  truly  royal  reply 
of  Themiflocles,  when  he  was  alked  if  he 
could  play  on  the  lute — "  No,  but  if  you 
will  give  me  a  paltry  village,  I  may  per- 
haps know  how  to  improve  it  into  a  great 
city. 


>> 


Thefe  are  imperial  arts,  and  worthy  kings.' 

As  to  thefe  inferior  accomplilhments,  is  it 
not  defirable,  and  is  it  not  fufficient  that  a 
fovereign  Ihould  poffefs  that  general  know- 
ledge and  tafte  which  give  the  power  of 
difcriminating  excellence,  fo  as  judicioufly 
to  cherifh,  and  liberally  to  reward  it  I 

VOL,  I.  c  But, 


l8  ON    THE    ACQUISITION 

But,  not  only  in  works  of  mere  tafte  ; 
even  in  natural  hiftory,  botany,  experimen- 
tal philofophy,  and  other  generally  valuable 
fciences,  a  correal  but  unlaboured  outline 
of  knowledge,  it  is  prefumed,   will,  in  the 
prefent   inflance,    be     thought     fufficient. 
Profitable  and   delightful  as  thefe  purfuits 
are  to  others   (and  no  one  more  admires 
them  than  the  writer  of  this  effay),  yet  the 
royal   perfonage    mud   not   be   examining 
plants,  when  Ihe  fliould  be  fludying   laws ; 
nor   inveftigating  the  inftinds  of  animals, 
when  fhe  fnould  be  analyzing  the  chara£lers 
of  men.     The  time  fo  properly  devoted  to 
thefe  lludies  in  other  education^  will  be  lit- 
tle enough  in  this,  to  attain  that  knowledge 
of  general  hiftory,  and  efpecially  that  accu- 
rate acquaintance  \vith  the  events  of  our  own 
country,  which,  in  her  fituation,  are  abfo- 
lutely  indifpenfiblp. 

Geography  and  chronology  have  not 
unfitly  been  termed  the  two  eyes  of  hillory. 
With  chronology  Hie  ilionld  be  competently 
acquainted.     It   is  little  to  know   events, 

if 


OP    KNOWLEDGE.  1 9 

if  we  do  not  know  in  what  order  and  fuc- 
ceffion  they  are  difpofed.  It  is  necelTary 
alfo  to  learn  how  the  periods  of  computa- 
tion are  determined.  Method  does  not 
merely  aid  the  memory,  it  alfo  aflifls  the 
judgment,  by  fettling  the  dependance  of 
one  event  upon  another.  Chronology  is  the 
grand  art  of  hiftorical  arrangement.  To 
know  that  a  man  of  diftinguiflied  eminence 
has  lived,  is  to  know  little,  unlefs  we  know 
when  he  lived,  and  who  were  his  contempo- 
raries. Indiftinclnefs  and  confufion  niuft 
always  perplex  that  underftanding,  in  which 
the  annals  of  pad  ages  are  not  thus  confe- 
cutively  linked  together. 

Would  it  not  be  proper  always  to  read 
hiftory  with  a  map,  in  order  to  keep  up  in 
the  mind  the  indiffoluble  connedlion  between 
hiftory  and  geography  ;  and  that  a  glance 
of  the  country  may  recal  the  exploits  of  the 
hero,  or  the  virtues  of  the  patriot  who  has 
immortalized  it  ? 

Refpedting  the  ftudy  of  geography,  I 
would  obferve,  that  many  particulars,  which 

c  2  do 


10  ON    THE    ACQUISITION 

^o  not  feem  to  have  been  confidered  by 
the  generality  of  writers,  ought  to  be 
brought  before  the  view  of  a  royal 
pupil.  The  effeds  of  local  fituation,  and 
geographical  boundary,  on  the  formation 
and  progrefs  of  nations  and  empires.  —  The 
confequences,  for  example,  which  have  re- 
fuited  as  well  in  the  political,  as  in  the  civil 
and  religious  circumilances  of  mankind, 
from  the  Mediterranean  being  fo  aptly 
interpofed,  not  fo  much  as  it  fliould  feem, 
to  be  a  common  barrier,  as  to  form  a  moft 
convenient  and  important  medium  of  inter- 
t'ourfe  between  Europe,  Afia,  and  Africa. 
—  The  effect  of  this  great  Naiimachia  of 
the  ancient  world,  in  transferring  empire 
from  eaft  to  well ;  —  the  want  of  tides  in 
the  Mediterranean,  fo  as  to  adapt  this  fcene 
of  early  maritime  adventure  to  the  rudenefs 
of  thofe  who  were  firft  to  navigate  itj  and 
whofe  fuccefs  might  have  been  fatally  im- 
peded, by  that  diverfity  of  currents,  which 
in  other  feas  the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  tides 
is  perpetually  creating. 

In 


OF    KNOWLEDGE,  21 

In  conne^Hon  with  this,  though  fome- 
what  locally  remote  from  it,  is  to  be  re» 
marked  the  regularity  of  the  monfoons  in 
the  Erythraean  fea,  by  means  of  which,  the 
earlier  traders  between  Africa  and  India 
were  carried  acrofs  the  Perfian  gulph,  with- 
out the  exercife  of  that  (kill,  which  as  yet 
did  not  exift. — And,  as  if  to  faciUtate  the 
conveyance  of  thofe  mod  interelling  com- 
modities to  the  Mediterranean,  in  order  that 
the  commerce  of  that  inland  ocean  might 
never  want  an  adequate  ftimulus,  the  Red 
Sea  is  carried  onward,  till  it  is  feparated  from 
the  Mediterranean  by  a  comparatively  nar- 
row ifthmus  ;  an  iflhmus  that  feems  provi- 
dentially to  have  been  retained,  that  while 
the  maritime  a(3:ivity  and  general  convenience 
of  the  ancient  world  was  provided  for,  there 
might  ftill  be  fufficient  difficulty  in  the  way, 
to  excite  to  a  more  extended  circumnavi- 
gation, when  the  invention  of  the  com- 
pafs,  the  improvement  of  maritii^ie  fkill, 
and  the  general  progrefs  of  human  fociety, 

c  3  ftoulci 


22  ON    THE    ACQUISITION 

fhould  concur  in   bringing  on  the  proper 
feafon. 

And,  in  this  geographic  fketch,  let  not 
the  remarkable  pofitlon  of  Judea  be  for- 
gotten *  J  placed  in  the  very  middle  parts 

*  It  is  worthy  of  notice,  that  in  all  probability 
Judea  was  the  country  by  means  of  which  a  trade 
was  firfl  opened  between  the  Mediterranean  and  India. 
David  had  taken  from  the  Edomites  two  cities  at  the 
Red  Sea,  Ezion-Geber  and  Elath  ;  thefe,  we  are  told, 
Solomon  made  fea-ports,  and  colonized  them  with  na- 
vigators, fuinidied  by  the  King  of  Tyre,  of  whom 
it  is  faid,  2  Chron.  viii,  18.  that  he  fent  unto  Solo- 
mon fhips  and  fervants  who  had  knowledge  of  the 
fea,  and  they  went  with  the  fervants  of  Solomon 
to  Ophir  ;  and,  i  Kings,  x.  22.  we  are  told  that 
Selomon  had  at  fea  a  nary  of  Tarfhifh  with  the  navy 
of  Hiram,  which  came  once  in  three  years,  bringing 
gold  and  lilver,  ivory,  apes  and  peacocks.  Thus, 
Tyre,  the  great  Emporium  of  the  Mediterranean, 
was  eviden;;ly  indebted  to  David  and  Solomon^  for 
accefs  to  that  commerce  of  the  eaft,  which  was 
carried  on  by  means  of  the  Red  Sea,  and  brought 
from  the  above-mentioned  ports,  acrofs  the  ifthmus 
of  Suez,  probably  to  the  fame  pla<:e  where  the  Ty- 
rians  in  later  times  unfliipped  their  Afiatic  commo- 
dities, the  port  of  Rhinocorura^ 

of 


OF    KNOWLEDGE.  23 

of  the  old  world,  (whofe  extent  may  be 
reckoned  from  the   pillars  of  Hercules  to 
"  the  utmofl  Indian  iHfe  Tabrobane,")  as 
the  fun  in  the  centre  of  the  folar  fyflem,  and 
at  the  top  of  the  Mediterranean,  both  that 
it  might  be  within  the  vortex  of  great  events, 
and  alfo  that  when  the  fullnefs  of  time  fliould 
come,  it  might  be  mod  conveniently  fituated 
for  pouring   forth   that   light  of  truth,  of 
which  it  was  deftined  to  be  the  local  origin, 
upon  all  the  nations  of  the  earth,   and  ef- 
pecially  on  the  Roman  empire. — Such  are 
the   lefs  common    particulars  to  which  at- 
tention   may    advantageotifly     be    drawn. 
With  geography  in  general  fliould  of  courfe 
be  connefted  fome  knowledge  of  the  natu- 
ral and  civil  hiftory  of  each  counti*y :  its 
chief. political  revolutions,  its  alliances,  and 
dependencies  ;  together  with  the  fcate  of  its 
arts,   commerce,    natural  productions,  go* 
vcrnment,  and  religion. 


c  4  CHAP. 


£4  ON    FORMING    THE    MIND. 

CHAP.  III. 

On  the  Importance  of  forming  the  Mind. 

It  is  of  the  highefl  importance  that  the 
royal  pupil  fhould  acquire  an  early  habit 
of  method  and  regularity  in  her  fludies. 
She  fliould,  therefore,  be  particularly  guard- 
ed againft  that  defultory  manner  of  reading, 
too  common  at  this  day,  and  particularly 
•with  women.  She  fhould  be  trained  al- 
ways to  fludy  to  fome  valuable  purpofe,  and 
carefully  to  attend  to  the  feveral  way- 
marks,  by  means  of  which  that  end  may 
mofl  efFedually  be  attained.  She  fhould  be 
accuftomed  to  call  forth  the  forces  of  her 
mind,  and  to  keep  them  alert,  well-dif-' 
ciplined,  and  ready  for  feryice.  She  fhould 
fo  cultivate  fettled  principles  of  adion,  as 
to  acquire  the  habit  of  applying  them,  on 
demand,  to  the  actual  occafions  of  life  ; 
and  fliould  polTefs  a  promptitude,  as  well 
as  foundnefs,    in  deducing    confequences, 

and 


ON    FORMING    THE    MIND.  25 

and  drawing  conclufions.  Her  mind  fhould 
be  exercifed  with  as  much  induflry  in  the 
purfuit  of  moral  truth  and  ufeful  know- 
ledge, as  that  of  a  young  academic  in  the 
ftudies  of  his  profeffion.  The  art  of  reign- 
ing is  the  profeiTion  of  a  prince.  And,  doubt- 
lefs,  it  is  a  fcience  which  requii^es  at  lead  as 
much  preparatory  ftudy  as  any  other.  Be- 
fides,  one  part  of  knowledge  is  often  fo  necef- 
fary  for  reflecting  light  on  another  part,  that 
perhaps  no  one  who  does  not  underftand 
many  things,  can  underfhaud  any  thing  well. 
But,  whatever  may  be  the  necefiary  de- 
gree of  knowledge,  it  is  mod:  certain  that  it 
cannot  be  attained  amidfl  the  petty  avoca- 
tions which  occupy  a  modern  lady's  time. 
Knowledge  will  not  come  by  nature  or  by 
chance.  Precepts  do  not  always  convey  it. 
Talents  do  not  always  infure  it.  It  is  the  fruit 
of  pains.     It  is  the  reward  of  apph'cation. 

Dii  lalorilus  omnia  vendunt. 

Let  her  ever  bear  in  mind,  (he  is  not  to 
jliidy  thai  fee  may  beccimjcarned,  but  that  fie 

viay 


26  ON    FORMING    THE    MIND. 

may  become  -wife.  It  is  by  fuch  an  acquifi- 
tion  of  knowledge  as  is  here  recommended, 
that  her  mind  muH:  be  fo  enlarged  and 
invigorated  as  to  prepare  her  for  following 
wife  counfels,  without  blindly  yielding  to 
fortuitous  fuggeftions  ;  as  to  enable  her  to 
trace  adions  into  their  muldfarious  confe- 
quences,  and  to  difccver  real  analogies  with- 
out being  deceived  by  fuperficial  appear- 
ances of  refemblance.  It  is  thus  that  fhe 
muft  be  fecured  from  the  dominion  of  the 
lefs  enlightened.  This  will  preferve  her 
from  credulity ;  prevent  her  from  over-rating 
inferior  talents,  and  help  her  to  attain  that 
nil  admirari^  which  is  fo  neceffary  for  dif- 
tinguifhing  arrogant  pretenfion  from  fub- 
flantial  merit.  It  will  aid  her  to  appreciate 
the  value  of  thofe  around  her ;  will  affifl 
her  penetration  in  what  regards  her  friends  j 
preferve  her  from  a  blind  prejudice  |n 
cjiufmg  them,  from  retaining  them  through 
fear  or  fondnefs,  and  from  changing  them 
through  weaknefs  or  caprice.  "  When  we 
are  abufed  through  fpecicus  appearances," 

fays 


ON    FORMING    THE    MIND.  1'J 

fays  the  judicious  Hooker,  "  it  is  becaufe 
reafon  is  negligent  to  fearch  out  the  fallacy.'* 
But,  he  might  have  added,  if  reafon  be 
not  cultivated  early,  if  it  be  not  exercifed 
conftantly,  it  will  have  no  eye  for  difcern- 
ment,  no  heart  for  vigorous  exertion.  Spe-. 
cious  appearances  will  perpetually  deceive 
that  mind  which  has  been  accuftomed  to  ac- 
quiefce  in  them  through  ignorance,  blind- 
nefs,  and  inadlion. 

A  prince  fhould  be  ignorant  of  nothing 
which  it  is  honourable  to  know ;  but  he 
Ihould  look  on  mere  acquilition  of  knov/- 
ledge  not  as  the  end  to  be  refled  in,  but  only 
as  the  means  of  arriving  at  fome  higher  end. 
He  may  have  been  well  inftruded  in  hillory, 
belles  lettres,  philofophy,  and  languages, 
and  yet  have  received  a  defedive  education, 
if  the  formation  of  his  judgment  has  been 
negledled.  For,  it  is  not  fo  important  to 
know  every  thing,  as  to  know  the  exad: 
value  of  every  thing,  to  appreciate  what  we 
learn,  and  to  arrange  what  we  know. 

Books  alone  will  never  form  the  charac- 
ter. 


28  ON    FORMING    THE    MIND. 

ter.     Mere  reading  would  rather  tend  to 
make   a    pedantic,    than    an   accomplifhcd 
prince.      It  is  converfation  which  mult  un- 
fold, enlarge,  and  apply  the  ufe  of  books. 
Without  that  familiar  comment  on  what  is 
read,   which  will   make   a  moll  important 
part   of   the   intercourfe  between   a    royal 
pupil  and   the  fociety  around    him,  mere 
reading  might  only  fill  the  mind  with  falla- 
cious models  of  character,  and  falfe  maxims 
of  life.      It  is  converfation  which  mull   de- 
velop what  is  obfcure,  raife  what  is  low, 
corred  what  is  defective,  qualify  what   is 
exaggerated,  and  gently  and  almoft  infenfi- 
bly  raife  the  underllanding,  form  the  heart, 
and  fix  the  talle  ;  and,  by  giving  jufl  pro-^ 
portions  to  the  mind,  teach  it  the  power  of 
fciir  appreciation,  draw  it  to  adopt  what  is 
reafonable,  to  love  what  is  good,  to  talle 
what  is  pure,  and  to  imitate  what  is  elegant. 
But  this  is  not  to  be  effected  by  cold  rules, 
and  formal  reflections  ;  by  infipid  dogmas, 
and  tedious  fermonizing.    It  fliould  be  done. 
fo  indirectly,  fo  difcreetiy,  and  io  pleafantly, 

that 


ON    FORMING    THE    MIND.  2g 

that  the  pupil  fhall  not  be  led  to  dread  a  lec- 
ture at  every  turn,  nor  a  diflertation  on 
every  occurrence.  While  yet  fuch  an  in- 
genious and  cheerful  turn  may  be  given  to 
fubjefts  apparently  unpromifnig,  old  truths 
may  be  conveyed  by  fuch  new  images,  that 
the  pupil  will  wonder  to  find  herfelf  improv- 
ed when  (he  thought  fhe  was  only  diverted. 
Folly  may  be  made  contemptible,  affectation 
ridiculous,  vice  hateful,  and  virtue  beautiful, 
by  fuch  feemingly  unpremeditated  means,  as 
fhall  have  the  effect,  without  having  the  ef- 
fort, of  a  lelfon.  Topics  mufl  not  be  fo 
much  propofed  as  infinuated. 

But  above  all,  there  fhould  be  a  conftant, 
but  imperceptible  habit  of  turning  the 
mind  to  a  love  of  truth  in  all  its  forms 
and  afpccls ;  not  only  in  matters  of  grave 
morality,  but  in  matters  of  bufinefs,  of 
common  intercourfe,  and  even  of  tafte  ;  for 
there  is  a  truth  both  in  moral  and  mental 
tafte,  little  fliort  of  the  exactnefs  of  malhe- 
matical  truth ;  and  the  mind  ihould  ac- 
quire an  habit  of  feeking  perfeftion  in  every 

thinsr. 


3©  ON    FORMING    THE    MIND. 

thing.  This  habit  fhould  be  fo  early  and 
infenfibly  formed,  that  when  the  pupil 
comes  afterwards  to  meet  with  maxims,  and 
inftances  of  truth  and  virtue,  in  hiftorical 
and  moral  writings,  fhe  may  bring  to  the 
perufal  taftes,  tempers,  and  difpofitions  fo 
laid  in,  as  to  have  prepared  the  mind  for 
their  reception.  As  this  mode  of  preparatory 
and  incidental  inflruclion  will  be  gradual 
and  inwoven,  fo  it  will  be  deep  and  dura- 
ble J  but  as  it  will  be  little  obvious  to  ordi- 
nary judges,  it  will  excite  lefs  wonder  and 
admiration  than  the  ufual  difplay  and  exhibi- 
tion  fo  prevalent  in  modern  education. 
Its  effects  will  be  lefs  oftenfible,  but  they 
will  be  more  certain. 

When  it  is  confidered  how  ftiort  is  that 
period  of  life  in  which  plain  unvarnilhed 
truth  will  be  likely  to  appear  in  all  its 
naked  fmiplicity  before  princes,  is  there  a 
moment  of  that  happy,  that  aufpicious  fea- 
fon  to  be  loft,  for  prefenting  it  to  them  in  all 
its  lovely  and  engaging  forms  ?  It  is  not 
enough  that  they  ihould  poflefs  truth  as  a 

3  principle. 


ON    FORMING    THE    MIND.  3E 

principle,  they  ihould  cherilli  it  as  an  object 
of  affection,  delight  in  it  as  a  matter  of  talle, 
and  dread  nothing  fo  much  as  falfe  colour- 
ing and  artifice. 

He  who  poffeffes  a  found  principle,  and 
ftrong  relifh  of  truth  in  his  own  mind_,  will, 
poffefs  a  touchftone  by  which  to  try  this 
quality  in  others,  and  which  will  enable  him 
to  detect  falfe  notions,  to  fee  through  falfe 
manners,  and  to  defpife  falfe  attractions. 
This  difcerning  faculty  is  the  more  impor- 
tant, as  the  high  breeding  of  very  polifliedE 
fociety  prefents  fo  plaufible  an  imitation  of 
goodnefs,  as  to  impofe  on  the  fuperficial  ob- 
ferver,  who,  fatisfied  with  the  image  and 
fuperfcription,  never  inquires  whether  the 
coin  be  counterfeit  or  fterling. 

The  early  habit  of  fifting  queifions,  turn- 
ing about  a  truth,  and  examining  an  argu- 
ment on  all  fides,  will  ftrenf^thcn  the  intel- 
le£tual  powers  of  the  royal  pupil,  prevent 
her  thoughts  from  wandering,  accullom 
her  to  weigh  fairly  and  refolve  foundly  ; 
will  conquer  irrefolution  in  her  mind  ;  pre- 

fcrve 


32  ON    FORMING    THE    MIND. 

ferve  her  from  being  eafily  deceived  by  falfe 
reafoning,  llartled  by  doubts,  and  con- 
founded by  objections.  She  will  learn  to 
digell  her  thoughts  in  an  exad  method,  to 
acquire  a  logical  order  in  the  arrangement 
of  them,  to  poiTefs  precifion  in  her  ideas,  and 
its  natural  concomitant,  perfpicuity  in  her 
expreffion  j  all  which  will  be  of  the  highefi: 
importance  to  one  who  may  hereafter  have 
fo  much  to  do  and  to  fay  in  public. 

With  the  Jhades  of  expreffions  fhe  fhould 
alfo  be  well  acquainted,  and  be  habituated  to 
ufe  the  mofl  appofite  and  the  mofl  correct ; 
fuch  as  are  neither  too  high  nor  too  low,  too 
flrong  nor  too  weak,  for  the  occafion  ;  fuch 
as  are  obvious,  but  not  vulgar,  accurate  but 
not  pedantic,  elegant  but  not  artificial. 

The  memory  fhould  be  ftored  with  none 
but  the  bed  things,  that  when,  hereafter, 
the  judgment  is  brought  into  exercife,  it 
n>ay  find  none  but  the  befl  materials  to  a£t 
upon.  Inftead,  therefore,  of  loading  the 
memory,  might  it  not  be  ufeful  to  eflablilli 
it  into  a  rule  to  read  to  her  every  day,  as 

3  an 


ON    FORMING    THE    MIND.  33 

an  amufement,  and  diftindly  from  all  re- 
gular inflruclion,  a  paffage  from  the  hiitory 
of  England,  a  flory  out  of  Plutarch,  or  any 
limilar  author ;  and  require  of  her  to  repeat 
it  afterwards,  in  her  own  words?  This  would 
not  only  add,  daily,  one  important  fact  to 
her  ftock  of  knowledge,  but  would  tend  to 
form  a  perfpicuous  and  elegant  ftyle.  Oc- 
cafion  would  alfo  be  furnifhed  for  obferving 
whether  fhe  exhibited  that  befl  proof  of 
good  fenfe,  the  feizing  on  the  prominent 
features  of  the  ftory,  laying  lefs  ftrefs  on 
what  was  lefs  important. 

But  while  accuracy  is  thus  fought,  the 
ftill  more  important  habit  of  comprehenfive- 
nefs  muft  not  be  overlooked.  Her  mind 
fhould  be  trained  to  embrace  a  wide  com- 
pafs ;  it  fhould  be  taught  to  take  in  a  large 
whole,  and  then  fubdivide  it  into  parts  ; 
each  of  which  fhould  be  confidered  diflind- 
ly,  yet  connededly,  with  ftrid:  attention  to 
its  due  proportions,  relative  fituations,  its 
bearings  with  refpeft  to  the  others,  and  the 
dependence  of  each    part    on   the   whole. 

VOL.  I.  D  Where, 


34  ON    FORMING    THE    MIND. 

Where,  however,  fo  many  things  are  to  be 
known,  and  fo  many  to  be  done,  it  is  im- 
poflible  to  attend  equally  to  all.  It  is 
therefore  important,  that,  in  any  cafe  of 
competition,  the  lefs  material  be  left  un- 
learned and  undone ;  and  that  petty  details 
never  fill  the  time  and  mind,  at  the  expence 
of  negledling  great  objects. 

For  thofe,  therefore,  who  have  much 
bufmefs  and  little  time,  it  is  a  great  and 
neceifary  art  to  learn  to  extract  the  effential 
fpirit  of  an  author  from  the  body  of  his 
work ;  to  know  how  to  feize  on  the  vital 
parts ;  to  difcern  where  his  flrength  lies ; 
and  to  feparate  it  from  thofe  portions  of 
the  work  which  are  fuperfluous,  collateral, 
or  merely  ornamental. 

On  the  fubject  of  ceconomifmg  time,  the 
writer  would  have  been  fearful  of  incurring 
the  charge  ofneedlefs  ftrictnefs,  by  fuggeft- 
ing  the  utility  of  accuftoming  princes  to  be 
read  to  while  they  are  drelTing,  could  not 
the  aftual  practice  of  our  admirable  Queen 
Mary  be  adduced  to  fanction  the  advice. 

That 


CN    FORMING    THE    MIND*'  35 

That  excellent  princefs,  from  a  confcien- 
dous  regard  to  the  value  of  time,  was  either 
read  to  by  others,,  or  condefcended,  herfeif, 
to  read  aloud,  that  thofe  who  were  em-, 
ployed  about  her  perfon  might  lliare  the 
benefit,  which  fhe  enhanced  by  fuch  plea- 
fant  and  judicious  remarks  as  the  fubject 
fuggefted.  But  there  is  an  additional  rea- 
fon  why  the  children  of  the  great  would  be 
benefited  by  this  habit ;  for  it  would  not 
only  turn  idle  moments  to  fome  account, 
but  would  be  of  ufe  in  another  way,  by 
cutting  off  the  fairefl  occafions  which  their 
inferior  attendants  can  have  for  engaging 
them,  by  frivolous  or  flattering  difcourfe.:;-j 
It  would  be  well  to  watch  attentively  the 
bent  of  the  mind  in  the  hours  of  relaxation 
and  amufement,  when  caution  is  difmiffed 
by  the  pupil,  and  control  by  the  precep- 
tor ;  when  no  fludies  are  impofed,  and  no 
fpecific  employment  fuggefted.  In  fact, 
when  vigilance  appears  to  fleep,  it  fliould 
be  particularly  on  the  alert,  in  order  to  dif- 
cern  thofe  tendencies  and  difpofitions  which 

D  2  will 


36  ON    FORMING    THE    MIND. 

win  then  moft  naturally  unfold  themfelves  j 
and  becaufe  that  the  heart,  being  at  thofe 
feafons  lefs  under  difcipline,  will  be  more 
likely  to  betray  its  native  charafter.  And 
as  the  regulation  of  the  temper  is  that  part 
of  education  on  which  the  w^hole  happinefs 
of  life  moft  materially  depends,  no  occafion 
fhould  be  neglected,  no  indication  flighted, 
no  counteraction  omitted,  which  may  con- 
tribute to  accomplifh  fo  important  an  end. 

The  peculiar  defefts,  not  merely  fuch  faults 
as  are  incident  to  childhood,  but  the  predo- 
minating faults  of  the  individual,  fhould  be 
carefully  watched,  left  they  acquire  ftrength 
through  negleft,  when  they  might  have  been 
diminiftied  by  a  counterafting  force.  If  the 
temper  be  reftlefs,  ardent,  and  impetuous, 
wearinefs  and  difcontent  will,  hereafter,  fill 
up  the  dreary  intervals  between  one  animat- 
ing fcene  and  another,  unlefs  the  temper  be 
fubdued  and  tranquillized  by  a  conftant 
habit  of  quiet,  though  varied,  and  intereft- 
ing  occupation.  Few  things  are  more  fatal 
to  the  mind,  than  to  depend  for  happinefs 
I  on 


OTT    FORMING    THE    MIND.  3/ 

on  the  contingent  recurrence  of  events, 
bulineires,  and  diverfions,  which  inflame 
and  agitate  it ;  for  as  they  do  not  often 
occur,  the  intervals  which  are  long  are  alfo 
languid  ;  the  enjoyment  is  factitious  happi- 
nefs  ;  the  privation  is  adlual  mifery. 

Reading,  therefore,  has,  efpecially  to  a 
prince,  its  moral  ufes,  independently  of  the 
nature  of  the  ftudy  itfelf.  It  brings  no  fmall 
gain,  if  it  fecure  him  from  the  dominion  of 
turbulent  purfuits  and  agitating  pleafures. 
If  It  fnatch  him,  on  the  one  hand,  from 
public  fchemes  of  ambition  and  falfe  glory  ; 
and  if  it  refcue  him,  on  the  other,  from  the 
habit  of  forming  petty  projeds  of  inceflant 
diverfion,  the  rudiments  of  a  trifling  and 
ufelefs  life. 

Knowledge,  therefore,  is  often  the  pre^ 
fervative  of  virtue ;  and,  next  to  right  habits 
of  fcntiment  and  conduft,  the  beft  human 
fource  of  happlncfs.  Could  Louis  the  Four- 
teenth have  read,  probably  the  edict  of 
Nantz  had  not  been  revoked.  But  a  refl;- 
lefs  temper,  and  a  vacant  mind,  unhappily 

D  3  lighting 


J.^  'Li    U    -5 


i.34 


38  ON    FORMING    THE    MIND. 

lighting  on  abfolute  power,  prefent,  in  this 
monarch,  a  ftriking  inflancc  of  the  fatal 
effedls  of  ignorance,  and  the  calamity  of  a 
neglected  education.  He  had  a  good  na- 
tm-ai  underilanding,  loved  bufmefs,  and 
feemed  to  have  a  mind  capable  of  compre- 
hending It.  Many  of  his  recorded  expref- 
fions  are  neat  and  elegant.  But  he  was 
uninftrufted  upon  fyftem  ;  Cardinal  Maza- 
rine, with  a  view  to  fecure  his  own  domi- 
nion, having  withheld  from  him  all  the 
neceflary  means  of  education.  Thus,  he 
had  received  no  ideas  from  books  ;  he  even 
hated  in  others  the  learning  which  he  did 
not  himfelf  pofTefs :  the  terms  wit  and 
fcholar,  v/ere,  in  his  mind,  terms  of  re- 
proach ;  the  one  as  implying  fatire^  the 
other  pedantry.  He  wanted^  not  applica- 
tion to  public  affairs  ;  and  habit  had  given 
him  fome  experience  in  them.  But  the 
apathy  which  marked  his  latter  years  ftrong- 
ly  illuflrated  the  infelicity  of  an  unfuiTiifhed 
mind.  This,  in  the  tumult  of  his  brighter 
days,    amidft  the    fuccelTion  of  intrigues, 

the 


CN    FORMING    THE    MIND;  39 

the  fplendour  of  feftivity,  and  the  buftle  of 
arms,  was  fcarcely  felt.      But  ambition  and 
voluptuoufnefs  cannot  always  be  gratified. 
Thofe  ardent  paflions,  which  in  youth  were 
devoted  to  licentioufnefs,  in  the  meridian 
of  life  to  war,  in  a  more  advanced  age  to 
bigotry  and  intolerance,  not  only  had  never 
been  directed  by  religion,  but  had  never 
been  foftened  by  letters.     After  he  had  re- 
nounced his    miflrefles  at   home,    and   his 
unjuft  wars  abroad,  even  though  his  mind 
feems  to  have  acquired  fome  pious  tenden- 
cies, his  life  became  a  fcene  of  fuch  inanity 
and   reflleflhefs,   that  he  was  impatient  at 
being,  for  a  moment,  left  alone.     He  had 
no  intellectual  refources.     The  agitation  of 
great   events   had   fubfided.      From  never 
having  learned  either  to  employ  himfelf  in 
reading  or  thinking,  his  life  became  a  blank, 
from  which  he  could  not  be  relieved  by  the 
fight  of  his  palaces,   his  gardens,  and  his 
aqueduds,     the    purchafe    of  depopulated 
villages  and  plundered  cities. 

D  4  Indigent 


40  ON    FORMING    THE    MIND. 

Indigent  amid  all  his  poffeffions,  lie  ex- 
hibited a  ftriking  confirmation  of  the  de- 
claration of  Solomon,  concerning  the  unfa- 
tisfying  nature  of  all  earthly  pleafures ;  arid 
fhewed,  that  it  is  in  vain  even  for  kings  to 
hope  to  obtain  from  others  thofe  comforts, 
and  that  contentment,  which  man  can  de- 
rive only  from  within  himfelf. 


CHAP. 


THE  EDUCATION  OF  A  SOVEREIGN.    4I 


CHAP.  IV. 

The  Education  of  a  Sovereign  a  fpecijic 
Education. 

JL  HE  formation  of  the  character  is  the 
grand  object  to  be  accomplifhed.  This 
fhould  be  confidered  to  be  not  fo  much  a 
feparate  bufmefs,  as  a  fort  of  centre  to 
which  all  the  rays  of  inflru^lion  (hould  be 
direfted.  All  the  ftudies,  it  is  prefumed, 
of  the  royal  pupil,  fhould  have  fome  refe- 
rence to  her  probable  future  fituation.  Is  it 
not,  therefore,  obvioufly  requinte  that  her 
underftanding  be  exercifed  in  a  wider  range 
than  that  of  others  of  her  fex ;  and  that  her 
principles  be  fo  eftablifhed,  on  the  befl  and 
furefl  foundation,  as  to  fit  her  at  once  for 
fulfilling  the  peculiar  demands,  and  for  re- 
fi fling  the  peculiar  temptations  of  her  fla- 
tion  ?  Princes  have  been  too  often  inclined 
to  fancy,  that  they  have  few  interefts  in 
common  with  the  reft  of  mankind,  feeling 

them- 


4-2     THE  EDUCATION  OF  A  SOVEREIGN 

themfelves  placed  by  Providence  on  an  emi- 
nence fo  much  above  them.  But  the  great 
aim  ihould  be,  to  correft  the  haughtinefs 
which  may  attend  this  fuperiority,  without 
relinquifhing  the  truth  of  the  fad.  Is  it 
not,  therefore,  the  bufmefs  of  thofe  who 
have  the  care  of  a  royal  education,  not  fo 
much  to  deny  the  reality  of  this  diftance,  or 
to  diminifh  its  amount,  as  to  account  for  its 
exiftence,  and  point  out  the  ufes  to  which  it 
i§  fubfervient  ? 

A  prince  is  an  individq^l  being,  whom 
the  hand  of  Providence  has  placed  on  a  pe- 
deftal  of  peculiar  elevation  :  but  he  fhould 
learn,  that  he  is  placed  there  as  the  minifler 
of  good  to  others:  that  the  dignity  being 
hereditary,  he  is  the  more  manifeilly  raifed 
to  that  elevation,  not  by  his  own  merit,  but 
by  providential  deftination  ;  by  thofe  laws, 
which  he  is  himfelf  bound  to  obferve  with  the 
fame  religious  fidelity  as  the  meaneft  of  his 
fubjefts.  It  ought  early  to  be  imprelTed,  that 
thofe  appendages  of  royalty,  with  which 
human  weaknefs  may  too  probably  be  faf- 
cinated,  are   intended  not    to   gratify    the 

feelings, 


A    SPECIFIC    EDUCATION.  43 

feelings,  but  to  diftinguifh  the  perfon  of  the 
monarch ;  that,  in.  themfeh'es,  they  are  of 
little  value;  that  they  are  beneath  the  at- 
tachment of  a  rational,  and  of  no  fubflantial 
ufe  to  a  moral  being ;  in  fliort,  that  they 
are  not  a  fubjecl  of  triumph,  but  are  to  be 
acquiefced  in  for  the  public  benefit,  and 
from  regard  to  that  weaknefs  of  our  nature, 
which  fubjecls  fo  large  a  portion  of  every 
community  to  the  influence  of  their  imagi- 
nation, and  their  fenfes. 

While,  therefore,  a  prince  is  taught  the 
ufe  of  thofe  exterior  embellifhnients,  which, 
as  was  before  obferved,  defignate,  rather 
than  dignify  his  flation ;  while  he  is  led  to 
place  the  juH  value  on  every  appendage 
which  may  contribute  to  give  him  impor- 
tance in  the  eyes  of  the  multitude ;  who, 
not  being  juft  judges-of  what  conftitutes 
true  dignity,  are  confequently  apt  to  reve- 
rence the  royal  perfon  exactly  fo  far  as 
they  fee  outward  fplendour  connected  with 
it ;  fhould  not  a  royal  pupil  himfelf  \fe 
taught,  inllead  of  overvaluing  that  fplen- 
dour. 


44     THE  EDUCATION  OF  A  SOVEREIGN 

dour,  to  think  it  a  humbling,  rather  than  an 
elevating  confideration,  that  fo  large  a  part 
of  the  refpecl  paid  to  him,  fhould  be  owing 
to  fuch  extrinfic  caufes,  to  caufes  which 
make  no  part  of  himfelf  ?  Let  him  then  be 
taught  to  gratifjr  the  public  with  all  the 
pomp  and  circumftance  fuitable  to  royalty  ; 
but  let  him  never  forget,  that  though  his 
ftation  ought  always  to  procure  for  him 
refpecl,  he  mufl  ever  look  to  his  own  per- 
fonal  conduct,  for  infpiring  veneration,  at- 
tachment, and  affection  ;  and  ever  let  it  be 
remembered  that  this  affe£tion  is  the 
ftrongeft  tie  of  obedience  ;  that  fubjefts 
like  to  fee  their  prince  great,  when  that 
greatnefs  is  not  produced  by  rendering 
them  lefs ;  and  as  the  profound  Selden 
obferves,  "  the  people  will  always  be  li- 
beral to  a  prince  who  fpares  them,  and  a 
good  prince  will  always  fpare  a  liberal 
people.'* 

This  is  not  a  period  when  any  wife  man 
"v&ould  wifh  to  diminifh  either  the  authority, 
or  the  fplendour  of  kings.     So  far  from  it, 

he 


A    SPECIFIC    EDUCATION.  45 

he  will  fupport  with  his  whole  weight,  an 
inftitution  which  the  licentious  fury  of  a 
revolutionary  fpirit  has  rendered  more  dear 
to  every  Englifliman.  On  no  confidera- 
tion,  therefore,  would  he  pluck  even  a  fea- 
ther from  thofe  decorations  of  royalty, 
which,  by  a  long  aifociation,  have  become 
intimately  connected  with  its  fubftance. 
In  fhort,  every  wife  inhabitant  of  the  Britifh 
Ifles  muft  feel,  that  he  who  would  defpoil 
the  crown  of  its  jewels,  would  not  be  far 
from  fpoiling  the  wearer  of  his  crown. 
And  as  nothing  but  democratic  folly  or 
phrenzy  would  degrade  the  monarch  from 
his  due  elevation,  fo  democratic  envy  alone 
would  wifh  to  flrip  him,  not  only  of  a  fm- 
gle  conflituent  of  real  greatnefs,  but  even 
of  a  fmgle  ornamental  appendage,  on  which 
the  people  have  been  accuftomed  to  gaze 
with  honefl  joy. 

Neverthelefs,  thofe  outrages  which  have 
lately   been    committed   againfl    the    fanc- 
tity  of  the  thione,    furnifh  new  and  mofl 
powerful    reafons    for    aJiduoufly    guard- 
ing 


46     THE  EDUCATION  OF  A  SOVEREIGN 

ing  princes  by  every  refpeclful  admoni- 
tion,  againft  any  tendency  to  exceed 
their  jufl  prerogatives,  and  for  checking 
every  rifing  propenfity  to  overflep,  in 
the  flighteft  degree,  their  well-defined 
rights.    . 

At  the  fame  time  it  fhould  be  remem- 
bered, that  there  may  be  no  lefs  dangerous 
faults  on  the  other  fide,  and  that  want  of 
nrmnefs  in  maintaining  jufl:  rights,  or  of  fpirit 
in  the  prompt  and  vigorous  exercife  of  ne- 
cefTary  authority,  may  prove  as  injurious  to 
the  interefls  of  a  community  as  the  mofl 
lawlefs  ftretch  of  power.  Defects  of  this 
very  kind  were  evidently  among  the  caufes 
of  bringing  down,  on  the  gentlefl  of  the 
kings  of  France,  more  calamities  than  Jiad 
ever  refulted  from  the  mofb  arbitrary  exer-. 
tion  of  power  in  any  of  his  predeceffors. 
Feebienefs  and  irrefolution,  which  feem  to  be 
little  more  than  pardonable  weakneffes  in  pri- 
vate perfons,  may,  by  their  confequences, 
prove  in  princes  fatal  errors  ;  and  even  pro- 
duce the  elfed  of  great  crimes.     Vigour  to 

fecure. 


A  SPECIFIC  EDUCATION.  47 

fecure,  and  opportunely  to  exert  their  confci- 
tutionai  power,  is  as  effential  as  moderation 
not  to  exceed  it  *. 

It  ferves  to  fliew  the  ineftimable  value  of 
well-defined  laws,  and  the  importance  of 
making  the  prince  acquainted  with  them, 
that  Louis  the  Thirteenth  conceived' a  jea- 
loufy  refpecling  his  own  power,  becaufe  he 
did  not  underfland  the  nature  of  it ;  and 
his  favourites  were  unable  or  unwilling  to 

*  May    it    not  be  obferved,    witliout  rifliing  the 
imputation   of   flattery,   that  perhaps    never,  in    the 
hiftory  of  the  world,  has   any   country  been  fo  unin- 
terruptedly blefled  with  that   very  temperament    of 
government,  which  is   here  implied,  as  this  empire 
has  been,  under  the  dominion  of  the  Houfe  of  Han- 
over ?    There  has,    on  no   occafion,  been  a  want  of 
firmnefs  :  but  with  that    flrmnefs,  lliere  has    been  a 
confcientious  regard  to   the  principles  of  the  confti- 
tution.     Who  can  at    this  moment  pretend  to  pro- 
nounce how  much  we  owe    to  the  fleady  integrity 
which    is  fo  obvioufly  poHefTed  by  our  prefcnt  fove- 
reign  ?      And    who    does    not  remember   with  what 
good    efTefts    his    rcfolute  compofure   and   dignified 
fii-mnefs  were  exerted,  during  a  fcene  of  the  greatell 
alarm  which  has  occurad  in  his  reign — the  riots  of 
the  year  1780, 

mllrudt 


48     THE  EDUCATION  OF  A  SOVEREIGN 

inflruft  him.  But  his  ufurpation  of  extra- 
ordinary power  tended  to  exalt  his  minifler 
ftill  more  than  himfelf ;  and  in  fetting  the 
King  above  the  laws,  he  ftill  fet  the  Cardinal 
above  the  King. 

The  power  of  the  monarchs  of  France 
had  never  been  defined  by  any  written  law. 
Charles  V.,  Louis  IX.,  and  perhaps  a  very 
few  other  wife  and  temperate  princes,  did 
not  conceive  their  power  to  be  above  the 
laws,  but  approved  of  thofe  moderating 
maxims  which  had  become,  by  degrees, 
the  received  ufages  of  the  flate,  and  which, 
while  they  feemed,  in  fome  meafure,  a  con- 
ftitutional  check  upon  the  abfolute  power 
of  the  crown,  formed  alfo  a  guard  againft 
that  popular  licentioufnefs,  which,  in  a  pure 
defpotifm,  appears  to  be  the  only  refource 
left  to  the  people.  But  France  has  had 
few  monarchs  like  Charles  V.  and  ftill 
fewer  like  Louis  IX.  Henry  IV.  feems  to 
have  found  and  obferved  the  happy  me- 
dium. He  was  at  once  refolute  and  mild  ; 
determined   and    affedionate  j    politic  and 

humane 


A    SPECIFIC    EDUCATION.  49 

humane.  The  firmnefs  of  his  mind,  and 
the  aftive  vigour  of  his  conduft,  always 
kept  pace  with  the  gentlenefs  of  his 
language.  He  fought  for  his  prerogatives 
bravely,  and  defended  them  vigoroufly ; 
yet,  it  is  faid,  he  ever  carefully  avoided 
the  ufe  of  the  term.  He  alfo  loved  and 
fought  popularity,  but  he  never  facrificed 
to  it  any  jufl  claim,  nor  ever  made  a  con- 
cefTion  which  did  not  alfo  tend  to  guard  the 
real  prerogatives  of  the  crown*.  And  it 
feems  to  be  the  true  wifdom  of  a  prince, 
that,  as  he  cannot  be  too  deliberate  in  his 
councils,  nor  too  cautious  in  his  plans,  fo 
when  thofe  counfels  are  well  matured,  and 
thofe  plans  well  digefted,  he  cannot  be  too 
decifive  in  their  execution. 

It  was  not,  indeed,  under  the  aftual  rule 
of  monarchs,  however  arbitrary,  that  royal 
authority  was  raifed  to  its  higheft  pitch 
in  France.  It  was  Richelieu,  who,  under 
a     regency,     rapidly    eftablilhed     fuch    a 

■ 

*  II  ne  fe  defioit  pas  des  loix,  parcequ'il  fe  fioit  en 
Jui  meme.  De  Retz. 

VOL.  I.  E  fyftem 


CO     THE  EDUCATION  OF  A  SOVEREIGN 

fyftem- of  tyranny,  as  the  boldell  foyereign 
had  feldom  dared  to  attempt.  He  improved 
on  all  the  anterior  corruptions ;  and,  as  a 
lively  French  author  fays,  tried  to  conceal 
their  being  corruptions,  by  ere£ling  them 
into  political  maxims.  Mazarin,  with  in- 
ferior  ability,  which  would  not  have  enabled 
him  to  gi-ve  the  impulfe,  attempted  ftill  more 
to  accelerate  the  movement  of  that  machine 
which  his  predeceffor  had  fet  a-going  with 
fuch  velocity  j  and  a  civil  war  was  the  con- 

fequ  nee. 

Happily,  the  examples  of  neither  the 
kings,  the  laws,  nor  the  conftitution  of 
France,  can  be  flridly  applicable  to  us. 
Happily  alfo,  we  live  at  a  time,  when  ge- 
nuine  freedom  is  fo  completely  eftablifhed 
among  us ;  when  the  conftitution,  powers, 
and  privileges  of  parliament  are  fo  firmly 
fettled  ;  the  limits  of  the  royal  prerogative 
fo  exadly  defined,  and  fo  fully  underftood  ; 
and  the  mild,  moderate,  and  equitable  fpirit 
of  the  illuflrlous  family  in  which  it  is  in- 
celled,  i&  withal  fo  confpicuous,  that,  as 

Blackftone 


A  SPEGlFiC    EDUCATION.  $1 

x)iackflone  obferves,  *'  topics  of  govern* 
ment,  which,  like  the  myfteries  of  the  Bona 
Dea,  were  formerly  thought  too  facred  to 
be  divulged  to  any  but  the  initiated,  may 
now,  without  the  fmalleft  offence,  be  fully 
and  temperately  difcufled." 

At  this  tumultuous  periodj  when  we  have 
feen  almoft  all  the  thrones  of  Chriftendom 
trembling  to  their  foundation ;  we  have 
witneiTed  the  Britifh  conftitution,  like  the 
Britifh  oak,  confirmed  and  rooted  by  the 
Ihaking  of  that  tremendous  blafl,  which  has 
dripped  kingdoms  of  their  crowns,  levelled 
the  fences  and  inclofures  of  law,  laid  wafle 
the  beft  earthly  bleflings  of  mankind,  and 
involved  in  defolation  a  large  part  of  the 
civilized  world.  When  we  have  beheld 
abfolute  monarchies,  and  republican  ftates, 
alike  ravaged  by  the  temped,  fhall  we  not 
learn  ftill  more  highly  to  prize  our  own  un- 
paralleled political  edifice,  built  with  fuch 
fair  proportions,  on  principles  fo  harmo- 
nious and  fo  juft,  that  one  part  affords  to 
another  that  fupport  which,  in  its  turn,  it 

K  2  receives ; 


52     THE  EDUCATION  OF  A  SOVEREIGN 

jeceives  ;  while  each  lends  ftrength,  as  well 
as  ftability  to  all  ? 

How  flender  is  the  fecurity  of  unlimited 
power,  let  the  ephemeral  reigns  of  eaflerm 
defpots  declare  !  A  prince  who  governs  a 
free  peoplej  enjoys  a  fafety  which  no  def- 
potic  fovereign  ever  pofleffed.  The  latter 
rules  fmgly  j  and  v/here  a  revolution  is  me- 
ditated, the  change  of  a  fmgle  perfon  is  foon 
effefted.  But  where  a  fovereign's  power  is 
incorporated  with  the  powers  of  parliament, 
and  the  will  of  the  people  who  eleft  parlia- 
ments, the  kingly  ftate  is  fenced  in  with, 
and  intrenched  by,  the  other  Hates.  He 
relies  not  folely  upon  an  army.  He  relies ' 
on  his  parliament,  and  on  his  people, — ^a 
fure  refource,  while  he  involves  his  interefts 
with  theirs !  This  is  the  happinefs,  the 
beauty,  and  the  ftrength  of  that  three-fold 
bond  which  ties  our  conftitution  together. 
Counfellors  may  miflead,  favourites  may  be- 
tray, even  armies  may  defert,  and  navies 
may  mutiny,  but  laws,  as  they  are  the 
fureft  guides  of  aftion,  fo  are  they  the  fureft 
guards  from  danger. 

Well 


A    SPECIFIC    EDUCATION.  ^^ 

Well  might  the  view  of  this  well-founded 
power  produce  the  remark  which  it  drew 
forth  from  a  fagacious  Frenchman  *,  who 
was  comparing  the  folid  conftitutional  au- 
thority of  the  Britiih  monarch,  with  the 
more  fpecious  but  lefs  fecure  fabric  of  the 
defpotifm  of  the  kings  of  France — "  That 
a  King  of  England,  who  afted  according  to 
the  laws,  was  the  greateft  of  all  monarchs  I'* 

But  while  the  convulfions  of  other  go- 
vernments, built  on  lefs  permanent  prin- 
ciples, have  rivetted  our  aiFe£lion  to  our 
own  ;  and  while  an  experimental  acquaint^ 
ance  with  the  miferies  of  anarchy  moft  na- 
turally lead  us,  as  fubjects,  to  a  ftrong  fenfe 
of  the  duty  of  obedience  :— -v/ith  equal  zeal 
would  we  wifh  it  to  be  inculcated  on  princes, 
that  they  jfliould  be  cautious  never  to  mul- 
tiply occafions  for  exacting  that  obedience  ; 
that  they  fhould  ufe  no  unnecelTary  com- 
pulfion  by  feizing  as  a  debt  what  good  fub- 
jeds  are  always  willing  to  pay  as  a  duty  -, 

*  Gourville. 

E  3  and 


54     THE  EDUCATION  OF  A  SOVEREIGN 

and  what  is  then  only  to  be  relied  upon  5, 
when  it  is  fpontaneous  and  cordial. 

It  is  obfervable,  that  thofe  monarchs  who 
have  mod  feduloufly  contended  for  prero- 
gative, have  been  among  the  feeblefl  and 
the  leaft  capable  of  exercifing  it ;  and  that 
thofe  who  have  ftruggled  mofl  earneftly  for 
unjuft  power,  have  feldom  enjoyed  it  them- 
felves,  but  have  made  it  over  to  miftrelfes 
and  favourites.  This  is  particularly  exem- 
plified in  two  of  our  weal^^efi:  and  moll  un- 
happy princes,  Edward  II.  and  Richard  II. 
Whether  it  was  that  this  very  imbecility 
made  them  more  contentious  about  their 
prerogative,  and  more  obflinate  in  refilling 
the  demands  of  parliament ;  or  that  their 
favourites  flimulated  them  to  exactions,  the 
benefit  of  which  was  to  be  transferred  tp 
themfelves.  The  character  of  Edward  III. 
(notwithflanding  his  faults)  was  confiftently 
magnanimous.  He  was  not  more  brave  than 
juft.  He  was  attentive  to  the  dignity  of  his 
crown  in  proportion  to  that  magnanimity, 
and  to  the  creation  and  execution  of  laws 

in 


A    SPECIFIC    EDUCATION*.  55 

in  proportion  to  that  juftice ;  and  he  took 
no  important  fteps  witliout  the  advice  of 
parliament.  The  wretched  reign  and  mi- 
ferable  cataftrophe  of  each  of  the  two-firll- 
named  princes,  furnifh  a  flriking  contrafl  to 
the  energy  and  popularity  of  the  lait  ;  of 
whom  Hume  obferves,  "  that  his  domeftic 
government  was  even  more  admirable  than 
his  foreign  conquefts  ; "  and  of  whom  Sel- 
den  fays,  "  that  one  would  think  by  his 
a£tions  that  he  never  was  at  home,  and  by 
his  laws  that  he  never  was  abroad.'* 

A  wife  and  virtuous  prince  will  ever  bear 
in  mind  the  grand  diflindlion  between  hi? 
own  fituation  and  that  of  his  minifter.  The 
latter  is  but  the  precarious  poiTeiTor  of  a  tran- 
fient  authority ;  a  mere  tenant  at  will,  or, 
at  moft,  for  hfe.  He  himfelf  is  the  heredi- 
tary and  permanent  pofTefTor  of  the  property. 
The  former  may  be  more  tempted  to  adopt 
meafures  which,  though  gainful  or  gratify- 
ing at  the  prefent,  will  be  probably  produc- 
tive of  future  mifchief  to  the  eftate.  But 
furely  the  latter  may  be  juftly  expelled  to 

E  4  tak^ 


^6     THE  EDUCATION  OF  A  SOVEREIGN 

take  a  longer  and  wider  view  ;  and,  confi- 
dering  the  interefts  of  his  pofterity  no  lefs 
than  his  own,  to  rejed  all  meafures  which 
are  likely  to  difparage  their  inheritance,  or 
injure  their  tenure.  He  will  trace  the  mif- 
fortunes  of  our  firft  Charles  to  the  ufurpa- 
tion  of  the  Tudors ;  and  mark  but  too  na- 
tural a  connexion  between  the  unprincipled 
domination  and  profufe  magnificence  of 
Louis  XIV.  and  the  melancholy  fate  of  his 
far  better  and  more  amiable  fucceifor.  He 
will  remember  the  folid  anfwer  of  the  Spar- 
tan king,  who  being  reproached  by  a  fuper- 
ficial  obferver  with  having  left  the  regal 
power  impaired  to  his  pofterity,  replied, 
^'  No  ;  for  he  had  left  it  more  fecure,  there- 
fore more  permanent.**  A  large  and  jufl 
conception  of  intereft,  therefore,  no  lefs 
than  of  duty,  will  prompt  a  wife  prince  to 
reject  all  meafures  which,  while  they  ap- 
pear to  flatter  the  love  of  dominion,  natu- 
rally inherent  in  the  mind  of  man,  by  hold- 
ing forth  the  prefent  extenlion  of  his  power, 
yet  tend  obflinately  to  weaken  its  effential 

ftrength  5 


A    SPECIFIC    EDUCATION.  57 

ftrength  ;  to  make  his  authority  the  objedt 
of  his  people's  jealoufy,  rather  than  of  their 
affection ;  to  caufe  it  to  reft  on  the  uncer- 
tain bafis  of  military  power,  rather  than 
on  the  deep  and  durable  foundations  of  the 
conftitution. 

•  In  order  to  enable  him  the  better,  there- 
fore, to  know  the  true  nature  and  limits  of 
his  authority,  he  will  endeavour  to  develop 
the  conftitutional  foundations  on  which  it 
refts.  Sovereigns,  even  female  fovereigns, 
though  they  cannot  have  leifure  to  become 
fully  acquainted  with  the  vaft  mafs  of  our 
laws,  ought  at  leaft  to  imbibe  the  fpirit  of 
them.  If  they  be  not  early  taught  the  ge- 
neral principles  of  our  laws  and  conftitution, 
they  may  be  liable,  from  the  flatterers  to 
whom  they  may  be  expofed,  to  hear  of 
nothing  but  the  power  which  they  may 
exert,  or  the  influence  which  they  may  ex- 
ercife,  without  having  their  attention  di- 
reded  to  thofe  counterading  principles, 
which,    in  a  limited  monarchy  like  ours, 

ferve. 


58    THE  EDUCATION  OF  A  SOVEREIGN 

ferve,  in  namberlefs  ways,  to  balance  and 
reftrain  that  power. 

It  fhould  be  worked  into  a  principle  in 
the  mind,  thaf  it  is  in  confideration  of  the 
duties  which  the  laws  impofe  on  a  prince, 
that  thofe  laws  have  fecured  to  him  either 
dignity  or  prerogative  ;    it  being  a  maxii^ 
of  the  law,  that  protection  and  allegiance 
are  reciprocal.     With  the  Impreflion  of  the 
power,  the  fplendour,   and  the  dignity  of 
royalty,  the  ideas  of  truft,  duty,  and  refpon- 
fibility,  fhould  be  infeparably  interwoven. 
It  fhould  be  affiduoufly  inculcated,  that  the 
LAWS  form  the  very  bafis  of  the  throne ;  the 
root  and  ground-work  of  the  monarch's  po- 
litical exiflence.     One  peculiar  reafon  why 
a  prince  ought  to  know  fo  much  of  the  laws 
and  conftitution,  as  to  be  able  to  determine 
what  is,  and  what  is  not,  an  infringement 
of  them,  is,  that  he  may  be  quick-fighted 
to  the  flightefl:  approximation  of  miniflers 
towards  any  fuch  encroachments.      A  far- 
ther reafon  js,  that  by  ftudying  the  laws  and 

confli. 


A    SPECIFIC    EDUCATION.  59 

conftltution  of  the  country,  he  may  become 
more  firmly  attached  to  them,  not  merely 
by  national  inftin£t,  and  fond  prejudice, 
becaufe  they  are  his  own,  but  from  judg- 
ment, reafon,  knowledge,  difcrimination, 
preference,  habit,  obligation,  — —  in  a  word, 
becaufe  they  are  the  beji. 

But  as  this  fuperficial  fketch  propofes 
not  to  be  an  effay  on  political,  but  mo- 
ral in{lru£lion,  thefe  remarks  are  only 
hazarded,  in  order  to  intimate  the  peculiar 
turn  which  the  royal  education  ought  to 
take.  If  a  fovereign  of  England  be,  in 
fuch  a  variety  of  refpe6ts,  fupreme,  it  fol- 
lows, not  only  that  his  education  fhould  be 
liberal,  large,  and  general,  but  that  it  fhould, 
moreover,  be  direded  to  a  knowledge  of 
thofe  departments  in  which  he  will  be  called 
to  prefide. 

As  fupreme  magiftrate  and  the  fource 
of  all  judicial  power,  he  fhould  be  adequate- 
ly acquainted,  not  only  with  the  law  of  na- 
ture and  of  nations,  but  particularly  with 
the  law  of  England,      As  poifefling    the 

powep 


Co    THE  EDUCATION  OF  A  SOVEREIGN 

power  of  declaring  war,    and   contrafting 
alliances,  he  fhould  be  thoroughly  conver- 
fant   with    thofe    authors  who,    with  the 
foundeft    judgment,     the    deepefl    moral 
views,  and  the  moll  correct  precifion,  treat 
of  the  great  principles  of  political  juftice ; 
who  beft  unfold  the  rights  of  human  na- 
ture, and  the  mifchiefs  of  unjuft  ambition. 
He  fliould  be  competently  acquainted  with 
the  prefent  ftate  of  the  diiferent   govern- 
ments   of    Europe,     with   which    that   of 
Great  Britain  may  have  any  political   re- 
lation;  and  he  fhould  be  led  to  exercife 
that  intuitive  difcernment  of  character  and 
talents,  which  will  enable  him  to  decide  on 
the  choice  of  ambaffadors,  and  other  foreign 
minifters,  whom  it  is  his  prerogative  to  ap- 
point. 

As  he  is  the  fountain  of  honour,  from 
which  proceed  titles,  diftindions,  and  of- 
fices, he  fhould  be  early  accuflomed  to  com- 
bine a  'due  attention  to  character,  with  the 
examination  of  claims,  and  the  appreciation 
of  fervices ;  in  order  that  the  honours  of  the 

fubjeci 


A    SPECIFIC    EDUCATION.  6t 

fubject  may  reflect  no  diflionour  on  the 
prince.  Thofe  whofe  diftlnguidied  lot  it  is 
to  beflow  fubordinate  offices  and  inferior 
dignities,  fhould  evince,  by  the  judgment 
with  which  they  confer  them,  how  fit  they 
themfelves  are  to  difcharge  the  higheft. 

Is  he  fupreme  head  of  the  church  ?   Hence 
arifes  a  (Irong  obligation  to  be  acquainted 
with  ecclefiaftical  hiftory  in  general,  as  well 
as  with  the  hiftory  of  the  church  of  England 
in  particular.     He  fhould  learn,  not  merely 
from  habit  and  prefcription,  but  from  an 
attentive  comparifon  of  our  national  church 
with  other  ecclefiaftical  inftitutions,  to  dif- 
cern  both  the  diftinguilliing  characters  and 
appropriate  advantages  of  our  church  efta- 
blifhment.     He  ought  to  inquire  in  what 
manner  its  interefts   are  interwoven  with 
thofe  of  the  ftate,  fo  far  as  to  be  infeparable 
from  them.     He  fhould  learn,  that  from  the 
fupreme  power,  with  which  the  laws  inveft 
him  over  the  church,  arifes   a  moft  awful 
refponfibility,  efpecially  in  the  grand  prero- 
gative of  beftowing  the  higher  ecclefiaftical 

appoint- 


62    The  EDUCATION  OF  A  SOVEREIGN,  &€♦ 

appointments,  —  a  trufl  which  involves  con- 
fequences  far  too  extenfive  for  human  minds 
to  calculate ;  and  which  a  fovereignj  even 
amid  all  the  dazzling  fplendour  of  royalty, 
while  he  preferves  tendernefs  of  confcience, 
and  quicknefs  of  fenfibility,  will  not  refled 
on  without  trepidation.  While  hiftory  offers 
numberleis  inftances  of  the  abufe  of  this 
power,  it  records  numberlefs  ftriking  ex- 
amples of  its  proper  application.  It  even 
prefents  fome,  in  which  good  fenfe  has 
operated  ufefully  in  the  abfence  of  all  prin- 
ciple. When  a  profligate  ecclefiaflic  ap- 
plied for  preferment  to  the  profligate  Duke 
of  Orleans,  while  regent  of  France,  urging 
as  a  motive,  that  he  fhould  be  difhonoured 
if  the  duke  did  not  make  him  a  biihop  — 
"^  And  I,"  replied  the  regent,  "  Ihall  be 
difhonoured  if  I  do.'* 


CHAP. 


^ 


ANCIENT    HISTORY*  63 


CHAP.  V. 

On  the  hnportance  ofjludy'mg  Ancient  Hljior^, 

J.  HOSE  pious  perfons  do  not  feem  to  un- 
derfland  the  true  Interefls  of  Chriflianlty, 
who  forbid  the  ftudy  of  Pagan  literature. 
That  it  is  of  little  value,  comparatively 
with  Chriftian  learning,  does  not  prove  it 
to  be  altogether  without  its  ufefulnefs. 
In  the  prefent  period  of  critical  inveftiga- 
tion,  heathen  learning  feems  to  be  juftly 
appreciated,  in  the  fcale  of  letters ;  the 
wifdom  and  piety  of  fome  of  our  mod 
eminent     contemDoraries     having:     fuccelT- 

1  O 

fully  applied  it  to  its  nobleil  ofHce,  b]^ 
rendering  it  fubfervient  to  the  purpofes  of 
Revelation,  in  multiplying  the  evidences, 
and  illuftrating  the  proofs.  Thus  the 
Chriftian  emperor,  when  he  deftroyed  the 
heathen  temples,  confecrated  the  golden 
veffels,  to  adorn  the  Chriftian  churches. 

In 


^4  ANCIENT    HISTORY. 

In  this  enlightened  period,  religion,  our 
religion  at  leaft,  does  not,  as  in  her  days 
of  darknefs,  feel  it  neceffary  to  degrade 
human  learning,  in  order  to  withdraw  her- 
felf  from  fcrutiny.  The  time  is  paft,  when 
it  was  produced  as  a  ferious  charge  againfl 
Saint  Jerome,  that  he  had  read  Homer  j 
when  a  doftor  of  the  Sorbonne  penitently 
confefTed,  among  his  other  fins,  that  the  ex- 
quifite  mufe  of  Virgil  had  made  him  weep 
for  the  woes  of  Dido  ;  and  when  the  works 
of  Tacitus  were  condemned  to  the  flames, 
from  the  Papal  chair,  becaufe  the  author 
was  not  a  Roman  Catholic.  It  is  alfo 
curious  to  obferve  a  papifl  perfecuting  the 
memory  of  a  Pagan,  on  the  ground  of  his 
fuperjiition  !  Pope  Gregory  the  Great  ex- 
pelled Livy  from  every  Chriftian  library  on 
this  account ! 

The  mod  acute  enemy  of  Chrifliianity, 
the  Emperor  Julian,  who  had  himfelf  been 
'bred  a  Chriftian  and  a  fcholar,  well  under- 
ftood  what  was  mofl  likely  to  hurt  its 
caufe.  He  knew  the  ufe  which  the  Chrif- 
2  tians 


AT^CIENT     HISTORY*  6^ 

tians  were  making  of  ancient  authors,  and 
of  rhetoric,  in  order  to  refute  error,  and 
eftabhfh  truth.  —  "  They  fight  us,"  faid  he, 
"  by  the  knowledge  of  our  own  authors  ; 
fhall  we  fuifer  ourfelves  to  be  dabbed  with 
our  own  fwords?'*  He  adually  made  a 
law  to  interdid:  their  reading  Homer  and 
Demofthenes ;  prohibited  to  their  fchools 
the  ftudy  of  antiquity,  and  ordered  that 
they  fhould  confine  themfelves,  to  the  ex~ 
planation  of  Matthew  and  Luke,  in  the 
churches  of  the  GaHleans. 

It  can  never  be  too  foon,  for  the  royal 
pupil,  to  begin  to  colleft  materials  for  re- 
flexion, and  for  atlion.  Her  future  cha- 
racter will  much  depend  on  the  courfe  of 
reading,  the  turn  of  temper,  the  habit  of 
thought  now  acquired,  and  the  (landard 
of  morals  now  fixed.  The  acquifition  of 
prefent  taftes  will  form  the  elements  of  her 
fubfequent  charader.  Her  prefent  acquire- 
ments, it  is  true,  will  need  to  be  matured 
by  her  after-experience ;  but  experience 
will  operate  to  comparatively  little  purpofe, 

VOL.  I.  p  where 


66  ANCIENT   HISTORY. 

where  only  a  flender  flock  has  been  laid 
in  for  It  to  work  upon ;  and  where  thefe 
materials  for  forming  the  charadler  have 
not  been  previoufly  prepared.  Things 
muft  be  known  before  they  are  done.  The 
part  Ihould  be  ftudied  before  it  is  a^ted,  if 
we  expert  to  have  it  a£led  well. 

Where  much  is  to  be  learned,  time  mull 
be  oeconomifed ;  and  in  the  judicious  fe- 
le£tion  of  Pagan  hterature,  the  difcern- 
ment  of  the  preceptor  will  be  particularly 
exercifed.  —  All  thofe  writers,  however  jufl- 
iy  celebrated,  who  have  employed  much 
learning,  in  elaborating  points  which  add 
little  to  the  praQical  wifdom  or  virtue  of 
mankind ;  all  fuch  as  are  rather  curious 
than  ufeful,  or  ingenious  than  inftrudive, 
fhould  be  paffed  over  ;  nor  need  fhe  beilow 
much  attention  on  points,  which,  though 
they  may  have  been  accurately  difcuifed, , 
are  not  ferioully  important.  Dry  critical 
knowledge,  though  it  may  be  corre£lly 
}uft ;  and  mere  chronicles  of  events,  though 
they  may  be  llrictly  true,  teach  not  the 
I  things 


ANCIENT    HISTORY.  67 

things  (he  wants.  Such  authors  as  Salluft, 
who,  in  fpeaking  of  turbulent  innovators, 
remarks,  that  they  thought  the  very  dijiurb- 
ancc  of  things  ejiablijloed  afufficient  bribe  to 
fet  them  at  work  ;  thofe  who,  like  this  ex- 
quifite  hiftorian,  unfold  the  internal  princi- 
ples of  adion,  and  diffect  the  hearts  and 
minds  of  their  perfonages,  who  develop 
compHcated  circumftances,  furnifh  a  clue  to 
trace  the  labyrinth  of  caufes  and  effects, 
and  aflign  to  every  incident  its  proper 
motive,  will  be  eminently  ufeful.  But,  if 
fhe  be  taught  to  difcern  the  merits  of 
writers,  it  is  that  fhe  may  become  not  a 
critic  in  books,  but  in  human  nature. 

Hiftory  is  the  glafs  by  which  the  royal 
mind  fhould  be  dreffed.  If  it  be  dehghtful 
for  a  private  individual,  to  enter  with  the 
hiftorian  into  every  fcene  which  he  de- 
fcribes,  and  into  every  event  which  he 
relates ;  to  be  introduced  into  the  interior 
of  the  Roman  fenate,  or  the  Athenian. 
Areopagus  ;  to  follow  Pompey  to  Pharfalia, 
Miltiades  to. Marathon,  or  Marlborough  to 

F  a  Blen- 


ANCIENT   HISTORY. 

Blenheim ;  how  much  more  interefting: 
will  this  be  to  a  fovereign  ?  To  him  for 
whom  fenates  debate,  for  whom  armies 
engage,  and  who  is  himfelf  to  be  a  prime 
ador  in  the  drama !  Of  how  much  more 
importance  is  it  to  him,  to  poffefs  an  accurate 
knowledge  of  all  the  fucceffive  govern- 
ments of  that  world,  in  a  principal  govern- 
ment of  which  he  is  one  day  to  take  the 
lead  !  To  poffefs  himfelf  of  the  experience 
of  ancient  ftates,  of  the  wifdom  of  every 
antecedent  age  !  To  learn  moderation  from 
the  ambition  of  one,  caution  from  the 
rafhnefs  of  another,  and  prudence  perhaps 
from  the  indifcretion  of  both  !  To  apply 
foregone  examples  to  his  own  ufe  ;  adopting 
what  is  excellent,  fhunning  what  is  errone- 
ous, and  omitting  what  is  irrelevant  ! 

Reading  and  obfervation  are  the  two 
grand  fources  of  improvement ;  but  they 
lie  nof  equally  open  to  all.  From  the  lat« 
ter,  the  fex  and  habits  of  a  royal  female, 
in  a  good  meafure,  exclude  her.  She  mull 
then,  in  a  greater  degree,  depend  on  the 

informa- 


ANCIENT    HISTORY.  69 

information  which  books  afford,  opened 
and  illuftrated  by  her  preceptor.  Though 
her  perfonal  obfervation  muft  be  limited, 
her  advantages  from  hiftorical  fources  may 
be  large  and  various. 

If  hiflory  for  a  time,  efpecially  during 
the  reign  of  the  prince  whofe  a£tions  are 
recorded,  fometimes  mifreprefent  chara6ters, 
the  dead,  even  the  royal  dead,  are  feldom 
flattered  ;  unlefs,  which  indeed  too  fre- 
quently happens,  the  writer  is  deficient  in 
that  jufl  conception  of  moral  excellence, 
which  teaches  to  diftinguilh  what  is  fplen- 
did  from  what  is  foHd.  But,  fooner  or 
later,  hiftory  does  juftice.  She  fnatches 
from  oblivion,  or  reproach,  the  fame  of 
thofe  virtuous  men,  whom  corrupt  princes, 
not  contented  with  having  facrificed  them 
to  their  unjufl  jealoufy,  would  rob  alfo  of 
their  fair  renown.  When  Arulenus  Ruf- 
ticus  was  condemned  by  Domitian,  for 
having  written,  with  its  deferved  eulogium, 
the  life  of  that  excellent  citizen,  Thrafea 
Foetus  3  when  Senecio  was  put  to  death  by 

F  3  the 


70  ANCIENT   HISTORY, 

the  fame  emperor,  for  having  rendered  the 
•like  noble  juftice  to  Helvidius  Prifcus  — 
when  the  hiflorians  themfelves,  like  the 
patriots  whom  they  celebrated,  were  fen- 
tenced  to  death,  their  books  alfo  being  con- 
demned to  the  flames  ;  when  Fannia,  the 
incomparable  wife  of  Helvidius,  was  ba* 
nifhed,  having  the  courage  to  carry  into 
exile  that  book  which  had  been  the  caufe 
of  it ;  a  book  of  which  her  conjugal  piety 
had  furnifhed  the  materials.  —  '^  In  the  fire 
which  confumed  thefe  books,"  fays  the  au- 
thor of  the  life  of  Agricola,  '"^  the  tyrants 
imagined  that  they  had  ftifled  the  very  ut- 
terance of  the  Roman  people,  abolilhed  the 
lawful  power  of  the  fenate,  and  forced  man- 
kind to  doubt  of  the  very  evidence  of  their 
fenfes.  Having  expelled  philofoph^y,  and 
exiled  fcience,  they  flattered  themfelves  that 
nothing,  which  bore  the  ftamp  of  virtue, 
would  exift  *.'*  —  But  hifliory  has  vindicated 
the  noble  fuflferers.  Postus  and  Helvidius 
will  ever  be  ranked  among  the  moft  ho- 

*  Beginning  of  Tacitua's  Life  of  Agricola. 

»  nourable 


r 


ANCIENT    HISTORY.  fX 

nourable  patriots  ;  while  the  emperor,  who, 
in  deltroying  their  lives  could  not  injure  their 
reputation,  is  configned  to  eternal  infamy. 

The  examples  which  hiflory  records, 
fumifh  faithful  admonitions  to  fucceeding 
princes,  refpecling  the  means  by  which  em- 
pires are  ereded  and  overturned.  They 
fhew  by  what  arts  of  wifdom,  or  by  what 
negled  of  thofe  arts,  little  ftates  become 
great,  or  great  ftates  fall  into  ruin  j  with 
what  equity  or  injuftice  wars  have  been  un- 
dertaken ;  with  what  ability  or  incapacity 
they  have  been  conduded  j  with  what  fa- 
gacity  or  fhort-fightednefs  treaties  have 
been  formed.  How  national  faith  has  been 
maintained,  or  forfeited.  How  confedera- 
cies have  been  made,  or  violated,  Hiftory, 
which  is  the  amufement  of  other  men,  is  the 
fchool  of  princes.  They  are  not  to  read  it 
merely  as  the  rational  occupation  of  a  vacant 
hour,  but  to  confult  it,  as  a  ftorehoufe  of 
materials  for  the  art  of  government. 

There  is  a  fplendour  in  heroic  adions, 
which   fires  the   imagination,  and  forcibly 

F  4  lays 


72  ANCIENT    HISTORY. 

lays  hold  on  the  palTions.  Hence,  the 
poets  were  the  firfl,  and,  in  the  rude  ages 
of  antiquity,  the  only  hifloriaos.  They 
feized  on  whatever  was  dazzling  in  charac- 
ter, or  fhining  in  adion  j  exaggerated  he- 
roic qualities,  immortalized  patriotifm,  and 
deified  courage.  But,  inllead  of  making 
their  heroes  patterns  to  men,  they  leflened 
the  utility  of  their  e:Kample,  by  elevating 
them  into  gods,  * 

Hence  however  arofe  the  firfl:  idea  of 
hifliory;  offnatching  the  deeds  of  illufl:rious 
men  from  the  delufions  of  fable ;  of  bring- 
ing down  extravagant  powers,  and  preterna^ 
tural  faculties,  within  the  limits  of  human 
nature  and  pofTibility;  and  reducing  over- 
charged characters  to  the  fize  and  fhape  of 
real  life;  giving  proportion,  order,  and 
arrangement  to  the  wideft  fcheme  of  action, 
and  to  the  mofl  extended  duration  of  time. 


CHAP. 


LAWS.  7^ 


CHAP.  VI. 

Laws  —  Egypt  —  Per/ta. 

ijuT  however  the  fiftions  of  poetry  might 
have  given  being  to  hiftory ;  it  was  fage 
political  inftitutions,  good  governments, 
and  wife  laws,  which  formed  both  its  folid 
bafis,  and  its  valuable  fuperftrudlure.  And 
it  is  from  the  labours  of  ancient  legiflators, 
the  eftablifhment  of  flates,  the  foundation 
of  governments,  and  the  progrefs  of  civil 
focicty,  that  we  are  to  look  for  more  real 
greatnefs,  and  more  ufeful  inflrudion,  than 
from  all  the  extravagant  exploits,  recorded 
in  the  fabulous  ages  of  .antiquity. 

So  deep  is  the  reverential  awe  which  man- 
kind have  uniformly  blended  with  the  idea 
of  laws,  that  almofl  all  civilized  nations  have 
affected  to  wrap  up  the  origin  of  them  in  the 
obfcurity  of  a  devout  myftery,  and  to  in- 
timate that  they  fprang  from  a  divine  fource. 
This  has  arifen  partly  from  a  love  of  the 

mar- 


74  LAWS. 

marvellous,  inherent  in  the  human  mind ; 
partly  from  the  vanity  of  a  national  fond- 
nefs  in  each  country,  for  lofing  their  origin 
nal  in  the  tracklefs  paths  of  impenetrable 
antiquity.  Of  the  former  of  thefe  taftes,  a 
iegiflator,  like  Numa,  who  had  deep  views, 
and  who  knew  how  much  the  people  re- 
verence whatever  is  myfterious,  would  na- 
turally avail  hinifelf.  And  his  fuppofed 
divine  communication  was  founded  in  his 
confummate  knowledge  of  the  human  mind, 
a  knowledge  which  a  wife  prince  will  always 
turn  to  good  account.  % 

But,  however  the  myfterioufnefs  of  the 
origin  of  laws  may  excite  the  reverence  of 
the  vulgar,  it  is  the  wife  only  who  will  duly 
venerate  their  fandity,  as  they  alone  can  ap- 
preciate their  value.  Laws  are  providen- 
tially defigned,  not  only  to  be  the  beft  fubfi- 
diary  aid  of  religion,  where  fhe  is  operative, 
but  to  be  in  fome  fort  her  fubftitute,  in  thofe 
inftances  where  her  own  dire6l  operations 
might  be  ineffedual.  For,  even  where  the 
immediate  law  of  God  is  little  regarded,  the 

civil 


LAWS.  75 

eivil  code  may  be  externally  efficient,  from 
its  fandiions  being  more  vifible,  palpable, 
tangible.      And  human  laws  are  direftly 
fitted  to  feftrain  the  outward  ads  of  thofe, 
whofe  hearts  are  not  influenced  by  the  di- 
vine injundions.     Laws,  therefore,  are  the 
furefl  fences  of  the  befc  blefiings  of  civilized 
life.    They  bind  fociety  together,  while  they 
ftrengthen  the   ftparate  interefts   of  thofe 
whom  they  reciprocally  unite.    They  tie  the 
hands^  of  depredation  in  the  poor,   and  of 
opprelTion  in   the  rich  ;    proted  the  weak 
^againfl  the  encroachments  of  the  powerful, 
and  draw  their  facred  fhelter  round  all  that 
is  dear  in  domeitic,    or  valuable  in  focial 
life.      They  are  the  truefl  guardians  of  the 
dignity  of  the  throne,  and  the  only  rampart 
of  the  liberty  of  the  people. 

On  the  law  of  nature,  and  the  law  of 
revelation  (vvhere  revelation  is  known),  all 
human  laws  ought  to  depend.  That  a 
rule  of  civil  condud  fliould  be  prefcribed 
to  man,  by  the  flate  in  which  he  lives,  is 
made  neceifary  by  nature,  as  well  as  fanc- 

tioned 


tioned  by  revelation.  Were  man  an-  in- 
fulated  being,  the  law  of  nature,  and  of  re- 
velation, would  fuffice  for  him  ;  but,  for 
aggregate  man,  fomething  more  than  even 
municipal  laws  becomes  requifite.  Divided 
as  human  beings  are  into  feparate  Hates, 
and  focieties,  connedled  among  themfelves, 
but  difconnefted  with  other  ftates,  each 
requires  with  relation  to  the  other,  certain 
general  rules,  called  the  law  of  nations,  as 
much  as  each  Hate  needs  refpe£ling  itfelf, 
thofe  diflinft  codes,  which  are  fuited  to  their 
own  particular  exigencies.  On  the  whole, 
then,  as  the  natural  fenfe  of  weaknefs  and 
fear  impels  man  to  feek  the  protedion,  and 
the  bleffing  of  laws,  fo  from  the  experience 
of  that  protection,  and  the  fenfe  of  that 
bleffing,  his  reafon  derives  the  moll  powerful 
argument  to  defire  their  perpetuation  ;  and 
his  providential  delliny  becomes  his  choice. 
If,  therefore,  we  would  truly  eftimate  the 
value  of  laws,  let  us  figure  to  ourfelves  the 
mifery  of  that  ftate  of  nature  in  which  there 
Ihould  be  no  law^  but  that  of  the  ftrongell ; 

np 


LAWS    OF    EGYPT,  77 

no  judge  to  determine  right,  or  to  punifh 
wrong  ;  to  redrefs  fufFering,  or  to  repel  in- 
jury ;  to  protedt  the  weak,  or  to  control  the 
powerful. 

If,  under  the  prevalence  of  a  falfe,  and 
even  abfurd  religion,  feveral  ancient  ftates, 
that  of  Egypt  in  particular,  fubfilled  in  fo 
much  fplendour  *  for  fo  long  a  period,  and 
afterwards  funk  into  fuch  abject  deprefTion, 
the  caufes  of  both  are  obvious.  The  laws 
of  ancient  Egypt  were  proverbial  for  their 
wifdom.     It  has  not  efcaped  feveral  Chrif- 

*  It  is  to  be  obferved,  that  this  fplendour  alludes 
to  tbe  profperity  arifmg  from  wife  political  infti- 
tutions  merely ;  for  the  private  morals  of  Egypt 
mufh  have  borne  fome  proportion  to  her  corrupt 
idolatry,  w^hich  afterw^ards  became  of  the  moll  de- 
grading and  prepoiterous  kind.  Her  wifdorn,  we 
muft.  therefore  infer^  was  chiefly  pdhical  wifdom. 
Her  morality  feems  to  have  been,  in  a  good  mea- 
fure,  cultivated  with  a  view  to  aggrandize  the  ftate, 
and  in  violation  of  many  natural  feehngs,  as  was 
the  cafe  in  Sparta.  Egypt  was  a  well-compafted 
political  fociety,  and  her  virtue  appears  to  have  been 
the  effefk  of  political  difcipline.  In  enumerating  her 
merits,  our  objeft  is,  to  prove  the  great  iinportance 

of  LAWS. 

tian 


78  LAWS    OF    EGYPT* 

tian  hiftorians,  that  it  was  the  human  praife 
of  him,  who  was  ordained  to  be  the  legilla- 
tor  of  God's  own  people,  that  he  ivasjkilkd 
in  all  the  learning  of  the  Egyptians.  And  it 
was  meant  to  confer  an  high  eulogium  on 
the  wifeft  of  the  kings  of  Ifrael,  that  his  wif* 
dom  eclipfed  that  of  -^gypt. 

The  laws  of  this  ilate  fo  flrongly  en- 
forced mercy,  that  they  punifhed  with  death 
thofe  who  refufed  to  iave  the  hfe  of  a  fel- 
low-creature, if  attacived,  when  it  was  in 
their  power.  The  juftice  of  the  Egyptian 
lav/s  was  fo  inflexible,  that  the  kings  obliged 
the  judges  to  fwear,  that  they  would  never" 
depart  from  the  principles  of  rectitude, 
though  even  in  obedience  to  the  royal  com- 
mand. Their  refped  for  individual  virtue, 
and  for  that  reputation  which  follows  it,  was 
fo  high,  that  a  kind  of  moral  inquifition  was 
appointed,  on  the  death  of  every  citizen,  to 
inquire  what  fort  of  life  he  had  lived,  that 
his  memory  might  be  accordingly  had  in 
honour,  or  deteflation.  From  the  verdi£t 
of  this  folemn  tribunal,  even  their  kings 
themfelves  were  not  exempted. 

The 


LAWS    OF   EGYPT.  79 

The  whole  aim  and  end  of  education 
among  them,  was  to  infpire  a  veneration  for 
GOVERNMENT  and  RELIGION.  They  had 
a  law,  which  alTigned  fome  employment 
to  every  individual  of  the  (late.  And  though 
the  genius  of  our  free  conflitution  would 
juftly  reprobate,  what,  indeed,  its  temperate 
and  judicious  reflraints  render  unneceiTary 
among  us,  that  claufe  which  directed  that 
the  employment  fhould  be  pei'petuated  in 
the  fame  family ;  yet,  perhaps,  the  fevere. 
moraliil,  with  the  example  of  the  well-order- 
ed government  of  Egypt  before  his  eyes, 
might  reafonably  doubt  whether  a  law,  the 
effe£t  of  v/hich  was  to  keep  men  in  their 
places,  though  it  might  now  and  then  check 
the  career  of  a  lofty  genius,  was  not  a 
much  lefs  injury  to  fociety,  than  the  free 
fcope  which  was  afforded  to  the  turbulent  am- 
bition of  every  afpiring  fpirit  in  the  Greek 
democracies.  BolTuet,  who  has,  perhaps,  pe- 
netrated more  deeply  into  thefe  fubje£ts  than 
almofl  any  modeiTi,  has  pronounced  Egypt 
to  be  the  fountain  of  all  political  wifdom. 

What 


8o  LAWS    OF    EGYPr. 

What  afterwards  plunged  the  Egyptians 
Into  calamity,  and  brought  final  diflblution 
on  their  government  ?     It  was  a  departure 
from  its  conftitutional  principles  ;  it  was  the 
negleft  and  contempt    of  thofe  venerable 
laws  which,  ior  fixteen  centuries^  had  confli- 
tuted  their  glory  and  their  happinefs.   They 
exchanged  the  love  of  their  wife  domeflic 
inflitutions,  for  the   ambition  of  fubduing 
diftant  countries.     One  of  their  moft  heroic 
fovereigns  (as  is  not  unufual)  was  the  in- 
ftrument  of  their  misfortunes.    Sefoftris  was 
permitted,  by  Divine  Providence,  to  dimi- 
nilh  the  true  glory  of  Egypt,  by  a  refllefs 
ambition    to  extend   her  territory.      This 
fplendid  prince   abandoned  the  real   gran- 
deur of  governing  wifely  at  home,  for  the 
falfe  glor}?-  of  foreign  conquefts,  which  de- 
tained him  nine  years  in  diftant  climates.    At 
a  remote  period,  the  people,  weary  of  the 
blefTmgs  they  had  fo  long  enjoyed  under 
a    fmgle    monarch,    weakened    the    royal 
power,    by   dividing   it   among   multiplied 

fovereigns. 

What 


LAWS    OF    PERSIA.  8 1 

What    exalted    the   ancient  Perfians  to 
ilich  lading  fame  ?     The  equity  and  flrid 
execution  of  their  laws.     It  was  their  fo- 
vereign  difdain  of  falfehood  in  their  public 
tranfadions.      Their  confidering  fraud   as 
the  mofl  degrading  of  vices,  and  thus  tranf- 
fufing  the  fpirit  of  their  laws  into  their  con- 
duct.    It  was  that  love  of  juflice  (modern 
ftatefmen  would  do  well  to  imitate  the  ex- 
ample) which  made  them  oblige  themfelves 
to  commend  the  virtues  of  their  enemies. 
It  was   fuch  an   extraordinary  rcfpect  for 
education,  that  no  forrow  was  ever  exprelTed 
for   young    perfons   who   died    uninftrud- 
ed.     It  was  by  paying  fuch  an  attention  to 
-the  children  of  the  fovereign,  that,  at  the 
ap-e  of  fourteen,  they  were  placed  under  the 
care  of  four  ftatefmen,  who  excelled  in  dif- 
ferent talents.    By  one  they  were  inftrucled 
in  the  principles  of  juftice  ;  by  another  they 
were  taught  to  fubdue  fenfuality ;  by  a  third 
they  were  initiated   in  the  art    of  govern- 
ment ;  and,  by  a  fourth,  in  the  duties  of 
religion.     Plato  has  given  a  beautiful  fketch 
of  this  accomplilhed  and  fubhme  education. 
VOL.  I.  o  It 


hi  tAWS    Of    PERSIA. 

It  will  be  found,  that  nearly  the  fame 
caufes  which  forwarded  the  ruin  of  Egypt, 
contributed  to  deflroy  Perfia  j  a  dereliction 
of  thofe  fundamental  principles  of  legiflation 
and  morals,  to  which  it  had  been  indebted 
for  its  long  profpefity  and  grandeur. 

But  be  it  remembered,  that  the  bed 
human  laws  will  not  be  exempt  from  the 
imperfe£lion  infeparably  bound  up  with  all 
human  things.  Let  us  beware,  however, 
of  thofe  innovators,  who,  mftead  of  care- 
fully improving,  and  vigoroufly  executing, 
thofe  laws  which  are  already  eftablilhed, 
adopt  no  remedies  fhort  of  deflrudion ; 
tolerate  no  improvements  fhort  of  creation  : 
v/ho  are  carried  away  by  a  v/ild  fcheme  of 
vifionary  perfeftion,  which,  if  it  could  any- 
where be  found  to  exifl,  would  not  be  likely 
to  be  found  in  the  projects  of  men,  who 
difdain  to  avail  themfelves  of  ancient  expe- 
rience,— and  progreffive  wifdom..  Thucy- 
dides  was  a  politician  of  another  cafl  j  for 
he  declared,  that  even  indifferent  laws,  vi- 
gilantly executed,  were  fuperior  to  the  beft, 
that  were  not  properly  obeyed.    Thofe  mo- 

12  dem 


LAWS    01*    PERSIA.  83 

dei^n  reformifts,  who  afFeO:  to  be  in  faptures 
with  the  Greek  republics,  would  do  well  to 
imitate  the  deliberation,  the  llownefs,  the 
doubt,  with  which  the  founder  of  the  Athe- 
nian legiflation  introduced  his  laws.  In- 
ftead  of  thofe  fudden  and  inflantaneous 
conflitutions  we  have  witneffed,  which,  dif- 
daining  the  flow  growth  of  moral  births, 
have  flarted  at  once,  full  grown,  from  the 
brain  of  the  projeQor,  and  were  as  fuddenly 
fuperfeded  as  rapidly  produced  ;  Solon 
would  not  fuffer  a  fmgle  law  to  be  deter- 
mined on,  and  accepted,  till  the  firft  charm 
of  novelty  was  paft,  and  the  firft  heat  of 
enthufiafm  had  cooled.  What  would  the 
fame  capricious  theorifts  fay  to  that  reve- 
rence with  which  the  Egyptians,  above 
cited,  regarded  antiquity,  example,  cullom, 
law,  prefcription  ?  This  fage  people  con- 
fidered  every  political  novelty  with  a  jea- 
loufy  equal  to  the  admiration  with  which 
it  is  regarded  by  the  new  fchool.  Trial, 
proof,  exeprience,  was  the  flow  criterion 
by  which  they  ventured  to  decide  on  the 

6  2  excellence 


84  LAWS    OF    PERSIA. 

excellence  of  any  inftitution.  While,  to  the 
licentious  innovator,  antiquity  is  ignorance, 
cullom  is  tyranny,  order  is  intolerance,  laws 
are  chains.  But  the  end  has  correfponded 
with  the  beginning.  Their  "  bafelefs  fa- 
brics" have  fallen  to  pieces  before  they  were 
well  reared  ;  and  have  expofed  their  fuper- 
ficial,  but  felf-fufficient  builders,  to  the  juft 
derifion  of  mankind. 


CHAP. 


GREECE.  '  85 


CHAP.  vn. 

Greece. 

vVhen  we  contemplate  Greece,  and  efpe- 
cially  when  we  fix  our  eyes  on  Athens,  our 
admiration  is  flrongly,  I  had  almoft  faid,  is 
irrcfiftibly  excited,  in  reflefting,  that  fuch  a, 
diminutive  fpot  concentrated  within  itfelf 
whatever  is  great  and  eminent  in  almoft 
every  point  of  view  ;  whatever  confers  dif- 
tindion  on  the  human  intelled; ;  whatever 
is  calculated  to  infpire  wonder,  or  commu- 
nicate delight.  Athens  was  the  pure  well- 
head of  poetry ; 

Hither,  as  to  their  fountain,  other  ftars 
Repairing,  in  their  golden  urns  draw  light. 

It  was  the  theatre  of  arms,  the  cradle  of  the 
arts,  the  fchool  of  philofophy,  and  the  pa- 
rent of  eloquence. 

To  be  regarded  as  the  mafters  in  learning, 
the  oracle  of  tafte,  and  the  ftandard  of  po- 

G  2  litenefs. 


S6  GREECE. 

litenefs,  to  the  whole  civilized  world,  is 
a  fplend-d  diftinftion.  But  it  is  a  peflilent 
mifchief,  when  the  very  renown  attending 
foch  brilliant  advantages  becomes  the 
vehicle  for  carrying  into  other  countries  the 
depraved  manners  by  which  thefe  pre-emi- 
nent advantages  are  accompanied.  This 
was  confeffedly  the  cafe  of  Greece  with 
refped  to  Rome.  Rome  had  conquered 
Greece  by  her  arms ;  but  whenever  a  fub- 
jugated  country  contributes,  by  her  vices, 
to  enflave  the  ftate  which  conquered  her, 
fhe  amply  revenges  herfelf. 

But  the  perils  of  this  coi^amination  do, 
not  terminate  with  their  immediate  confe- 
quences.  The  ill  effects  of  Grecian  man- 
ners did  not  ceafe  with  the  corruptions  which 
they  engendered  at  Rome.  There  is  flill  a 
ferious  danger,  left,  while  the  ardent  and 
high-fpirited  young  reader  contemplates 
Greece  only  through  the  fplendid  medium 
of  her  heroes  and  her  artifts,  her  poets  and 
her  orators ;  while  his  imagination  is  fired 
with  the  glories  of  conqueft,  and  captivated 

with 


GREECE*  f7 

With  the  charms  of  literature,  that  he  may 
lofe  fight  of  the  diforders,  the  corruptions, 
and  the  crimes,  by  which  Athens,  the  fa- 
mous feat  of  arts  and  of  letters,  was  diflio- 
noured.  May  he  not  be  tinctured  (allow- 
ing for  change  of  circumftances)  with  fome- 
thing  of  that  fpirit  which  inflamed  Alex- 
ander, when,  as  he  was  palling  the  Hydafpes, 
he  enthuftaftically  exclaimed,  ^'  O  Athe- 
nians !  could  you  believe  to  what  dangers  I 
€xpofe  myfelf,  for  the  fake  of  being  cele- 
brated by  you !" 

Many  of  the  Athenian  vices  originated  in 
the  very  nature  of  their  conlljtution  ;  in  the 
very  fpirit  of  that  turbulent  democracy 
which  Solon  could  not  reflrain,  nor  tlie 
ablell  of  his  fucceffors  control.  The  great 
founder  of  their  legiflation  felt  the  dangers 
infeparable  from  the  democratic  form  of 
government,  when  he  declared,  *'  that  he 
had  nor  given  them  the  bell  laws,  but  the 
befl  which  they  were  able  to  bear."  in  the 
very  eftablifhment  of  his  inllitutions,  he 
betrayed  his  diflrufl  of  this  fpecies  of  go- 

G  4  vernment. 


t% 


GREECE. 


vernment,  by  thofe  guards  and  ramparts 
which  he  was  fo  affiduous  in  providing  and 
multiplying.  Knowing  himielf  to  be  inca- 
pable of  fetting  afide  the  popular  power,  his 
attention  was  directed  to  divefl  it,  as  much 
as  poffible,  of  its  mifchiefs,  by  the  entrench^ 
ments  that  he  drove  to  caft  about  it.  His 
fagacious  mJnd  anticipated  the  ill  effects  of 
that  republican  refllefliiefs,  that  at  length 
completely  overturned  the  ftate  which  it 
had  fo  often  menaced,  and  fo  conftantly 
diilrafted. 

This  unfettled  government^  which  left  the 
country  perpetually  expofed  to  the  tyranny 
of  the  few,  and  the  turbulence  of  the  miany, 
was  never  bound  together  by  any  principle 
of  union,  by  any  bond  of  intereft,  common 
to  the  v/hole  community,  except  when  the 
general  danger,  for  a  time,  annihilated  the 
diflindlion  of  feparate  interefls.  The  re^ 
ftraint  of  laws  was  feeble ;  the  laws  themfelves 
were  often  contradiftory ;  often  ill  admi- 
jiiftered  ;  popular  intrigues,  and  tumultuous 
^iTeniblies,  frequently  obfi:ruQ:ing  their  ope- 
ration* 


GREECE,  89 

ration.  The  nobleft  fervlces  were  not  fel- 
dom  rewarded  with  imprffonment,  exile,  or 
afiaffination.  Under  every  change,  confif- 
cation  and  profcription  were  never  at  a 
ftand  ;  and  the  only  way  of  effacing  the  im- 
preflion  of  any  revolution  which  had  pro- 
duced thefe  outrages,  was  to  promote  a  new 
one,  which  engendered,  in  its  turn,  freih 
outrages,  and  improved  upon  the  antece^ 
dent  diforders. 

By  this  light  and  capricious  people, 
acute  in  their  feelings,  carried  away  by 
every  fudden  gufl  of  pafiicn,  as  mutable  in 
their  opinions  as  unjuft  in  their  decifions, 
the  mod  illuilrious  patriots  were  firfl  facri- 
ficed,  and  then  honoured  with  ftatues; 
their  heroes  were  murdered  as  traitors,  and 
then  reverenced  as  Gods.  This  wanton 
abufe  of  authority,  this  ralli  injuftice,  and 
fruitlefs  repentance,  Vv'ouid  be  the  inevitable 
confequence  of  lodging  fupreme  power  in 
the  hands  of  a  vain  and  variable  populace, 
jnconitant  in  their  very  vices,  perpetually 

vibratinff 


vibrating  between  irretrievable  crimes  an4 
inefFediual  regrets. 

That  powerful  oratory,  which  Is  to  us  fo 
jufl  a  fubjed  of  admiration,  was,  doubtlefs, 
no  inconfiderabie  caufe  of  the  public  dif- 
orders.  And  to  that  exquifite  talent,  which 
conftitutes  one  of  the  chief  boails  of  Athens, 
we  may  look  for  one  principal  fource  of 
her  diforders : 

Thofe  ancients,  vvliofe  refiflleft  eloquence 
Vv'^ielded  at  will  the  fierce  Democracy, 
Shook  th'  arfenal,  and  fulmin'4  over  Greece, 
To  Macedon  and  Artaxerxes'  throne. 

When  we  confider  what  mighty  influence 
this  talent  gave  to  the  popular  leaders,  an4 
what  a  powerful  engine  their  demagogues 
poffeiTed,  to  work  upon  the  pafTions  of  the 
multitude,  who  com.pofed  their  popular  af- 
femblies  ;  when  we  refle6l  on  the  characler 
of  thofe  crowds,  on  whom  this  flirring  eior 
quence  was  exercifed,  and  remember  that 
their  opinion  decided  on  the  fate  of  the  coun- 
try: all  this  will  contribute  to  account  for  the 
ii'equency  and  riolence  of  the  public  comr 

motions^ 


CiREECE.  91 

piotions,  and  naturally  explains  why  that 
rhetorical  genius,  which  flied  fo  bright  a 
iuftre  on  the  country,  was,  from  the  nature 
of  the  conftitution,  frequently  the  inftru- 
ment  of  convulfing  it. 

While  the  higher  clafs,  in  many  of  the 
Greek  republics,  feemed  without  fcruple 
to  opprefs  their  inferiors,  the  populace  of 
Athens  commonly  exerted  the  fame  hollile 
fpirit  of  refentnient  againft  their  leaders. — 
Competition,  circumvention,  litigation ; 
ever)''  artifice  of  private  fraud,  every  ilrata- 
gem  of  perfonal  injudice,  filled  up  the 
ihort  intervals  of  foreign  wars  and  public 
contefts.  How  ftrikingly  is  St.  PauFs 
definition  of  that  light  and  frivolous  pro- 
penfity  of  the  Athenians,  v/hich  led  them 
to  pafs  the  day  only  "  to  hear  or  to  tell 
fome  new  thing,''  illuftrated,  by  Plutarch's 
relation  of  the  illiterate  citizen,  who  voted 
Ariflides  to  the  punilhmcnt  of  theOftracifm! 
When  this  great  man  queftioned  his  accufer, 
whether  Ariftidcs  had  ever  injured  him  ? 
He  replied,  fo  far  from  it,  that  he  did  not 

even 


92  GREECE. 

even  know  him,  only  he  was  quite  'wearied 
out  with  hearing  him  every  where  called  the 
juj},  Befides  that  fpirit  of  envy  which  is 
peculiarly  alive  in  democracies  ;  to  have 
heard  this  excellent  perfon  calumniated, 
would  have  been  a  refrefhing  novelty,  and 
have  enabled  him  "  to  tell  a  new  thing." 

That  paiHonate  fondnefs  for  fcenic 
diverfions,  v/hich  led  the  Athenians  not 
cnly  to  apply  part  of  the  pubKc  money 
to  the  fupport  of  the  theatres,  and  to 
pay  for  the  admifiion  of  the  populace, 
but  alfo  made  it  a  capital  crime  to  divert 
this  fund  to  any  other  fervice,  ^ven  to  the 
fervice  of  the  ftate,  fo  facred  was  this  ap- 
plication of  it  deemed — was  another  con- 
■cuiTent  caufe  of  the  profligacy  of  public 
manners  *,     The  abufes  to  which  this  uni- 

verfal 

*  Pericles  not  being  rich  enough  to  fupplant  his 
competitor  by  afts  of  liberality,  procured  this  law 
with  a  view  to  make  his  court  to  the  people.  He 
fcrupled  not,  in  order  to  fecure  their  attachment  to 
his  perfon  and  government,  by  thus  "  buying  them 
with  their  own  money,"  efFed.ually  to  promote  their 

■natural 


GREECE.  9^ 

verfal  invitation  to  luxury  and  idl^nefs  led  ; 
the  licentioufnefs  of  that  purely  democratic 
fpint,  which  made  the  loweft  claffes  claim, 
as  a  right,  to  partake  in  the  diverfions  of 
the  higheft  ;  the  pernicious  produftions  of 
fome  of  the  comic  poets ;  the  unbounded 
licence  introduced  by  the  mafk ;  the  vo- 
luptuoufnefs  of  their  mufic,  whofe  cj^tra- 
ordinary  effects  it  would  be  impcilibie  to 
believe,  were  they  not  confirmed  by  the 
general  voice  of  antiquity  :  all  thefe  con- 
curring circumitances  induced  a  deprava- 
tion of  morals,  of  which  lefs  enlightened 
countries  do  not  often  prefent  an  example. 

natural  levity  and  idlenefs,  and  to  corrupt  their 
morals, — The  rulers  of  a  neighbouring  nation  have 
been  too  fkilful  iidepts  in  the  art  of  corruption",  not 
to  admire  and  eagerly  adopt  an  example  fo  fuited  to 
their  political  circumft.nces,  and  fo  congenial  to  their 
national  frivolity.  Accordingly,  an  unexampled  multi- 
tude of  theatre!i.have  been  opened  ;  and  in  order  to 
allay  the  difcontents  of  the  lower  clafs  at  the  expenoe 
of  their  time  and  morals,  the  price  of  thefe  diverfions 
has  been  reduced  ^  low  as  almoft  to  emulate  the  gra- 
tuitous admiflion  of  the  Athenian  populace. 

The 


94  GkEECEi 

The  prophane  and  impure  Arlftophanes  was 
alnioft  adored,  while  the  virtue  of  Socrates 
not  only  procured  him  a  violent  death,  but 
the  poet,  by  making  the  philofopher  con- 
temptible to  the  populace,  paved  the  way 
to  his  unjufl  fentence  by  the  judges.  Nay, 
perhaps  the  delight  which  the  Athenians 
took  in  the  impious  and  ofFenfively  loofe 
wit  of  this  dramatic  poet,  rendered  them 
more  deaf  to  the  voice  of  that  virtue  which 
was  taught  by  Plato,  and  of  that  liberty  in 
which  they  had  once  gloried,  and  which 
Demofthenes  continued  to  thunder  in  their 
unheeding  ears.  Their  rage  for  fenfual 
pleafure  rendered  them  a  fit  object  for  the 
projeds  of  Philip,  and  a  ready  prey  to  the 
attacks  of  Alexander. 

In  lamenting,  however,  the  corruptions 
of  the  theatre  in  Athens,  juflice  compels 
us  ro  acknowledge,  that  her  immortal  tra- 
gic poets,  by  their  chafte  and  manly  com- 
pofitions,  furnifii  a  noble  exception.  In  no 
country  has  decency  and  pu<ity,  and,  to  the 
difgrace  of  Chriftian  countries,   let  it   be 

added. 


GREECE.  ()^ 

Jidded,  have  morality  and  even  piety,  been 
fo  generally  prevalent  in  any  theatrical  com- 
pofitions,  as  in  what 

her  lofty  grave  Tragedians  taught 

In  Chorus  or  Iambic,  teachers  befl; 
Of  moral  Prudeiice. 

Yet,  in  paying  a  juft  and  warm  tribute  ,. 
to  the  moral  excellencies  of  thefe  fublime 
dramalills,  is  not  an  anfwer  provided  to 
that  long  agitated  queflion.  Whether  the 
ftage  can  be  indeed  made  a  fchool  of  mo- 
rals ?  No  queflion  had  ever  a  fairer  chance 
for  decifion  than  was  here  afforded. — If  it 
be  allowed,  that  there  never  Vv^is  a  more 
profligate  city  than  Athens  ;  if  it  be  equally 
indifputable,  that  never  country  polfelTed 
more  unexceptionable  dramatic  poets  than 
Efchylus,  Sophocles,  and  Euripides  ;  if  the 
fame  city  thus  at  once  produced  the  beft 
phyficians,  and  the  worfl  patients,  what 
is  the  refult?  Do  the  Athenian  annals  re- 
cord, that  any  clafs  or  condition  of  citizens 
Were  actually  reformed  by  conflantly  fre- 
quenting, 


^6  GREECE* 

quenting,  we  had  almoft  laid,  by  condantly 
living  in  the  theatre  ? 

Plutarch,  who  feverely  condemns  the 
Athenians,  had  too  jufh  a  judgment  to 
cenfure  either  the  excellence  of  the  poets, 
or  the  good  talle  of  the  people  who  admired 
them.  But  he  blames  them  for  that  ex- 
ceffive  paflion  for  diverfions,  "  which," 
fays  he,  "  by  fetting  up  a  new  objed:  of  at- 
tachment had  nearly  extingullhed  public 
virtue,  and  made  them  more  anxious  about 
the  fate  of  a  play  than  about  the  fate  of  their 
country*.'* 

Such  were  the  manners  which  hlftorians, 
orators,  and  poets  have  configned  to  im- 
mortal fame  1  Such  were  the  ■  people  for 
whom  our  highly  educated  youth  ai'e 
taught  to  feel  an  enthufiaftic  admiration  I 
Such  are  the  forms  of  government  which 
have  excited  the  envy,  and  partly  furniflied 
the  model  to  the  bloody  innovators,  and 
frantic  politicians  of  our   age  !     Madly  to 

*  See  Wortley  Montagu,  of  theRife  and  Fail  ^f 
ancient  Republics. 

5  g^o^y 


GREECE.  97 

glory  in  the  dream  of  liberty,  and  to  be  in 
fa£t  the  victim  of  changing  tyrants,  but 
unchanging  tyranny.  — This  was  the  coveted 
lot  of  ancient  Athens !  This  is  the  objeft  of 
reverence,  eulogy^  and  imitation  to  a  large 
portion  of  modern  Europe  ! 

In  refleding  on  the  fplendid  works  of 
genius  and  of  art  in  Athens,  as  oppofed  to 
the  vices  of  her  government,  and  the  licen- 
tioufnefs  of  her  morals,  —  will  it  be  thought 
an  adequate  compenfation  for  the  corrup- 
tions of  both,  if  we  grant,  as  we  are  difpofed 
to  do,  in  Its  fullell  extent,  that  unparalleled 
combination  of  talents,  which  delighted  and 
informed  the  reft  of  the  world  ?  If  we 
allow  that  this  elegance  of  tafte  fpread  fo 
wide,  and  defcended  fo  Jow,  that  every 
individual  of  an  Athenian  mob  might,  a? 
has  been  triumphantly  aflerted  *,  be  a  juft 
critic  of  dramatic  compofition  ?  That  the 
ear  of  the  populace  was  fo  nicely  tuned, 
and  fo  refined  a  judge  of  the  delicacies  of 

*  See  an  elegant  paper  in  the  Adventurer,  in  which 
fome  of  thefe  triumphs  of  Athens  are  afTerted. 

VOL.  I.  H  pro- 


^t  GREECE. 

pronunciation,  than  an  Attic  herb-woman 
could  deted  the  provincial  accent  of  a 
learned  philofopher  ?  Is  it  even  a  fufficient 
compenfation,  exquifite  as  we  allow  the 
gratification  to  have  been,  that  the  fpefta- 
tor  might  range  among  the  ftatues  of 
Lyfippus,  or  the  pictures  of  Apelles,  or  the 
critic  enjoy  the  flill  more  intellectual  luxury 
of  liftening  to  an  oration  of  Demoflhenes, 
"of  a  fcene  of  Euripides,  —  while  the  rulers 
of  fo  accomplifhed  a  people  were  in  general 
dilTolute,  tyrannical,  oppreffive,  and  unjufl ; 
and  the  people  themfelves  univerfally  funk 
into  the  moil  degraded  ftafe  of  manners  j 
immerfed  in  the  lafl  excefs  of  effeminacy ; 
debafed  by  the  mcfl  exceffive  fenfuality, 
fraud,  idlenefs,  avarice,  gaming,  and  de- 
bauchery ? 

If  here  and  there  the  eye  is  relieved,  and 
the  feelings  are  refreihed,  with  the  cafual 
appearance  of  a  Miltiades,  a  Cimon,  an 
Ariftides,  a  Socrates,  a  Phocion,  or  a 
Xenophon ;  yet  thefe  thinly  fcattered  ftars 
ferve  lefs  to  retrieve  the  Athenian  character, 

by 


GREECEi  -.^v 

by  their  folltary  luflre,  or  even  by  their 
confluent  radiance,  than  to  overwhelm  it 
with  difgrace,  by  the  atrocious  injuflice 
with  which  thefe  bright  luminaries  were 
treated  by  their  country.  The  eulogium 
pf  the  citizen  is  the  fatire  of  the  flate. 

While  we  obferve  that  Greece  lirfl  be* 
came  powerful,  rich  and  great,  through  the 
eftergy  of  her  people,  and  the  vigour  of  her 
charadler,  and  that  this  very  greatnefs, 
power,  and  riches,  have  a  natural  bias  to- 
wards corruption  ;  that  while  they  hap- 
pily tend  to  prod'uce  and  nourifli  thofe  arts, 
which  ,in  their  juft  meafure  are  the  belt 
embellifhments  of  a  nation ;  yet  carried  to 
excefs,  and  mifappJied  to  vicious  purpofes, 
tend  to  weaken  and  corrupt  it ;  that  Athens, 
by  her  public  and  private  vices,  and 
by  her  very  refinement  in  politenefs,  and 
her  devotednefs  to  the  arts,  not  only  pre- 
cipitated her  ov/n  ruin,  —  but  by  the  tranf- 
plantation  of  thofe  arts,  encumbered  with 
thofe  vices,  ultimately  contributed  to  ruin 
Rome  alfo.  —  While  we  take  this  retrofped, 

H  a  we. 


lOO  GREECE. 

we,  of  this  highly-favoured  land,  may  re- 
ceive an  awful  admonition ;  we  may  make 
a  mofl  inilru£live  comparifon  of  our  own 
fituation  with  refpeft  to  a  neighbouring  na- 
tion, —  a  nation  which,  under  the  rapidly- 
Ihifting  form  of  every  mode  of  government, 
from  the  defpotifm  of  abfolute  monarchy  to 
a  republican  anarchy,  to  which  the  royal 
tyranny  was  comparative  freedom  ;  —  and 
now  again,  in  the  clofmg  fcene  of  this 
changeful  drama,  to  the  heavy  fubjugation 
of  military  defpotifm,  has  never  ceafed  to 
be  the  obje£l  of  childifh  admiration,  of  paf* 
fionate  fondnefs,  and  fervile  imitation,  to 
too  many  in  our  own  country  ;  to  perfons, 
too,  whofe  rank,  giving  them  the  greatefl 
(lake  in  it,  have  moft  to  rifk  by  the 
affimilation  with  her  manners,  and  mofl  to 
lofe  by  the  adoption  of  her  principles.  And 
though,  through  the  fpecial  providence  and 
undeferved  mercies  of  God,  we  have  with- 
ftood  the  flood  of  revolutionary  doftrines, 
let  us,  taking  warning  from  the  refemblance 
above  pointed  out,  no  longer  perfift,  as  in 

the 


GREECE.  101 


the  halcyon  days  of  peace,  fen^ilely  to  adopt 
her  language,  habits,  manners  and  corrup- 
tions. For  now  to  fill  up  the  meafure  of 
our  danger,  her  pictures,  and  her  ftatues, 
not  the  fruits  of  her  own  genius  —  for  here 
the  comparifon  with  Athens  fails  —  but  the 
plunder  of  her  ufurpation,  and  the  fpoils  of 
her  injuftice,  by  holding  out  new  baits  to 
our  curiofity,  and  new  attractions  to  our 
admiration,  are  in  danger  of  fatally  and 
finally  accomplifhing  the  refemblance. — 
May  the  omen  be  averted  i 

Among  the  numberlefs  lefTons  which  we 
may  derive  from  the  fludy  of  Grecian  hif- 
tory,  there  is  one  which  cannot  be  too  often 
inculcated,  more  efpecially  as  it  is  a  fa6t 
little  relifhed  by  many  of  our  more  refined 
wits  and  politicians,  —  we  mean  the  error  of 
afcribing  to  arts,  to  literature,  and  to  polite- 
nefs,  that  power  of  foftening  and  correi2:ing 
the  human  heart,  which  is,  in  truth,  the 
exclufive  prerogative  of  religion.  Really  to 
mend  the  heart,  and  purify  the  principle, 

H  3  is 


I02  GREECE. 

is  a  deeper  work  than  the  mofl  finiflied  cuL 
tivation  of  the  tajle  has  ever  been  able  to 
effeft.  The  poliflied  Athenians  were  among 
the  moft  unjufl  of  mankind  in  their  national 
afts,  and  the  moil  cruel  towards  their  allies. 
They  remarkably  exemplify  the  tendency  of 
ailing  in  a  body^  to  leflen  each  man's  indivi- 
dual confcioufnefs  of  guilt  or  cruelty.  This 
polite  people,  in  their  political  capacit)-, 
com  -litted,  without  fcruple,  actions  of 
almoft  unparalleled  barbarity. 

Every  reflecting  clafs  of  Britifh,  and  efpe- 
clally  of  Chriflian  readers,  will  not  fail  to 
perufe  the  annals  of  this  admired  republic 
with  fentiments  of  deep  gratitude  to  heaven 
for  the  vafl  fuperiorlty  of  our  own  national, 
civil,  focial,  moral,  and  religious  bleffings. 
And  they  may  enrich  the  catalogue  with 
•  that  one  additional  advantage,  which  Xeno- 
phon  thought  was  all  that  Athens  wanted, 
and  which  we  pollefs  —  We  are  an  ijland  *. 

*  See  Montefqiiieu  Efprlt  des  Loix,  vol.  ii.  p.  3. 

The 


GREECE.  103 

The  found  and  fober  politician  will  fee  mofl 
flrongly  illuflrated,  in  the  evils  of  the  Athe- 
nian ftate,  (though  diffimilar  in  fome  re- 
fpects  from  modern  democracy,)  the  bleff- 
ings  of  our  reprefentative  government,  and 
of  our  deliverance  from  any  approximation 
towards  that  mob-government,  to  which 
univerfal  fuffrage  would  be  the  natural  and 
necelfary  introduclion. 

The  delicate  and  refined  female  of  our 
favoured  country  will  feel  peculiar  fenfa- 
tions  of  thankfulnefs,  in  comparing  her 
happy  lot  with  the  degraded  (late  of  women 
in  the  politeft  ages  of  Greece.  Condemned 
to  ignorance,  labour,  and  obfcurity ;  ex- 
cluded from  rational  intercourfe  ;  debarred 
from  every  fpecies  of  intellectual  improve- 
ment or  innocent  enjoyment ;  they  never 
i'eem  to  have  been  the  objects  of  refpecl  or 
efteem  ;  in  the  conjugal  relation,  the  fer- 
vile  agent,  not  the  endeared  companion. 
Their  depreffed  flate  was,  in  fome  meafure, 
confirmed  by  Illiberal  legal  inftitutions ; 
and  their  native  gcm'us  was  fyftem.atically 

H  4  reRrained 


r04  GREECE. 

reftrained  from  riflng  above  one  degraded 
level.  —  Such  was  the  lot  of  the  virtuous  part 
of  the  fex.      We  forbear  to  oppofe  to  this 
gloomy  picture  the   profligate  renown  to 
which  the  bold  pretenfions  of  daring  vice 
elevated  mercenary  beauty ;  nor  would  we 
glance  at  the  impure  topic,  but  to  remind 
our  amiable  countrywomen,  that  immodefly 
in  drefs,  contempt  of  the  fober  duties  of  do- 
meflic  life,  a  boundlefs  appetite  for  plea- 
fure,  and  a  mifapplied  devodon  to  the  arts, 
were  among  the   fteps  which  led  to   this 
fyftemadc  profeffion  of  fhamelefs  profligacy, 
and   to  the  eftablifliment  of  thofe  counte- 
nanced corruptions  which  raifed  the  more 
celebrated,  but  infamous,  Athenian  women 

To  that  bad  eminence. 

Every  defcription  of  men,  who  know  hoW 
to  eflimate  public  good,  or  private  happi- 
nefs,  will  joyfully  acknowledge  the  vifible 
effed  which  Chrifl:ianity  has  had  (indepen- 
dently of  its  influence  over  its  real  votaries) 
in    improving   and   elevadng   the    general 

8  fl:andar4 


GREECE.  105 

ftandard  of  morals,  fo  as  confiderably  to 
rectify  and  raife  the  condudl  of  thofe  who 
are  not  direftly  actuated  by  its  principles. 
And,  laflly,  to  fay  nothing  of  a  pure  church 
eftablifhment,  fo  diametrically  the  reverfe 
of  the  deplorably  blind  and  ignorant  rites  of 
Athenian  worihip  *, — who  can  contemplate, 
without  a  thankful  heart,  that  large  infufion 
of  Chriflianity  into  our  national  laws,  which 
has  fet  them  fo  infinitely  above  all  compari- 
fon  with  the  admired  codes  of  Lycurgus  and 
of  Solon  ? 

*  Acts  of  the  Apoftles^  ch,  xvii. 


CHAP. 


Io6  ROME. 


CHAP.  VIII, 

Rome. 

If  the  Romans,  from  being  a  handful  of 
banditti,  rendered  themfeives  in  a  fliort  pe>- 
riod  lords  of  the  univerfe  ;  — if  Rome,  from 
being  an  ordmary  town  in  Italy,  became 
foremofl  in   genius  and  in   arms,    and  at 
length  unrivalled  in  imperial  magnificence  ; 
let  it  be  remembered  that  the  foundations 
of  this  greatnefs  were  laid  in  fome  of  the 
extraordinary  virtues  of  that  republic.    The 
perfonal   frugality  of  her  citizens  ;    the  re- 
markable iimplicity  of  their  manners  ;   the 
habit  of  transferring  from  themfel'^s  to  the 
flate  all  pretenfions  to  external  confequence 
and  fplendour  ;   the  flriftnefs  of  her  laws, 
and  the  flriking  impartiality  of  their  execu- 
tion ;  that  inflexible  regard  to  jullice,  which 
led  them,  in  the  early  ages  of  the  republic  — 

fo 


ROME,  107 

fo  little  was  the  doctrine  of  expediency  in 
repute  among  them  —  to  inflid  penalties  on 
thofe  citizens  who  even  conquered  by  de^ 
ceit,  and  not  by  valour ;  that  vigilant 
attention  to  private  morals  which  the 
eftablifliment  of  a  cenforfliip  fecured,  and 
that  zeal  for  liberty,  which  was  at  the  fame 
time  fupported  by  her  political  conftituticn. 
—  Thefe  caufes  were  the  true  origin  of  the 
•Roman  greatnefs.  This  was  the  pedeftal  on 
which  her  colofT^l  power  was  erected  ;  and 
though  fhe  remained  miftrefs  of  the  world, 
even  at  a  time  when  thefe  virtues  had  begun 
to  decline,  the  firll  impulfe  not  having 
ceafed  to  operate,  yet  a  difcerning  eye  might 
even  then  perceive  her  growing  internal 
weaknefs,  and  might  anticipate  her  final 
diiTolution. 

Republican  Rome,  however,  has  been 
much  too  highly  panegyrifed.  The  Ro- 
mans had,  indeed,  a  public  feeling,  to  which 
every  kind  of  private  affection  gave  way  ; 
and  it  is  chiefly  on  the  credit  of  their  facri- 
ficing  their  individual  interefls  to  the  na- 
13  tional 


lc8  ROME, 

tional  caufe,  that  they  acquired  fo  high  a 
renown. 

It  may  not  be  unworthy  of  remark,  that 
the  grand  fundamental  principle  of  the  an- 
cient republics  (and  though  it  was  flill  more 
ilrikingly  manifeft  in  the  Grecian,  it  was  in 
no  fmali  degree  the  cafe  with  Republican 
Rome)  was  different  from  that  which  con- 
ilftutes  the  eifential  principle  of  the  Britifh 
conilitution,  and  even  oppofite  to  it.    In  the 
former  the  public  was  every  thing  ;    the 
rights,  the  comforts,  the  very  exiftence  of 
individuals,    were   as   nothing.     With   us, 
happily,  the  cafe  is  very  different,  nay,  even 
exactly  the  reverfe.     The  well-being  of  the 
whole  community  is  provided  for,  by  effec- 
tually fecuring  the  rights,  the  fafety,  the 
comforts  of  every  individual.     Among  the 
ancients,  the  groifefl  adts  of  injullice  againll 
private  perfons  were  continually  perpetrated, 
and  were   regarded    as    beneath   account, 
v.hen  they  ftood  in  the  way  of  the  will,  the 
intereft,  the  aggrandifement,   the  gloiy  of 
the  flate.      In  our  happier  country,  not  the 

meaneft 


ROME.  105) 

meanefi:  fubjec^  can  be  injured  in  his  perfon 
or  his  poffefiions.  The  little  flock  of  the 
artizan,  the  peaceful  cottage  of  the  peafant, 
is  fecured  to  him  by  the  univerfal  fuperin- 
tendance,  and  the  ftrong  prote-^lion  of  the 
public  force.  The  ftate  is  juftly  confidered 
as  made  up  of  an  aggregate  of  particular 
families ;  and  it  is  by  fecuring  the  well- 
being  of  each,  that  all  are  prefen^ed  in  prof- 
perity.  We  could  delight  to  defcant  large- 
ly on  this  topic  ;  and  furely  the  contem- 
plation could  not  but  warm  the  hearts  of 
Britons  with  lively  gratitude  to  the  Author 
of  all  their  blefllngs,  and  with  zealous  at- 
tachment to  that  conftitution,  which  conveys 
and  fecures  to  them  the  enjoyment  of  fuch 
unequalled  happinefs  !  But  we  dare  not  ex- 
patiate in  fo  wide  a  field.  I^et  us,  however, 
remark  the  degree  in  which  the  benevolent 
fpirit  of  Chriftianity  is  transfufed  into  our 
poUtical  fyflem.  As  it  was  the  glory  of  our 
religion  to  take  the  poor  under  her  inflruc- 
tion,  and  to  adminifter  her  confolations  to 
the  wretched,  fo  it  is  the  beauty  of  our  con- 
ftitution 


{irltution  that  (he  confidersj  not  as  below  her 
care,  the  feats  of  humble  but  honefl  induf^ 
try  ;  the  peaceful  dwellings,  and  quiet  enjoy- 
ments, of  the  lover  of  domeflic  comfort. 

^gain  —  This  vital  fpirit  of  our  conftitu- 
tion  is  favourable  to  virtue,  as  well  as  con- 
genial with  religion,  and  conducive  to  hap- 
■pinefs.  It  checks  that  fpirit  of  injuftice  and 
oppreffion  which  is  fo  nianifefl  in  the  con- 
dud  of  the  antient  republics  towards  all 
other  nations.  It  tends  to  diifufe  a  general 
fenfe  of  moral  obligation,  a  continual  re- 
ference to  the  claims  of  others,  and  our  own 
'confequent  obligations:  in  fhort,  a  conti- 
nual reference  to  the  real  rights  of  man ; 
a  term  which,  though  fo  ihamefully  abufed, 
and  converted  into  the  watch-word  of  riot 
and  rebellion,  yet,  truly  and  properly  un- 
'-derftood,  is  of  found  meaning  and.conftant 
application.  By  princes  efpecially,  thefe 
rights  fhould  ever  be  kept  in  remembrance. 
They  were,  indeed,  never  fo  well  fecured, 
as  by  that  excellent  injunction  of  our  blefled 
Saviour,  To  do  to  others  as  we  would  have 

them 


«OME»  I  i  I 

thm  do  to  us.  And  to  which  the  apoftle's 
brief,  but  comprehenfive  diredions,  form 
an  admirable  commentary :  Honour  all  me?i 
—  Lo'veyoiir  bi-ethrcn  —  Fear  God  —  Honour 

the  King. 

But,  to  return  to  the  Romans :  then* 
very  patriotifm,  by  leading  them  to  thii-fl 
for  univerfal  empire,  finally  deftroyed  them, 
being  no  lefs  fatal  to  the  morals,  than  to  the 
greatnefs  of  the  ftate.  Even  their  vaunted 
public  fpirit  partly  originated  in  the  necef- 
fities  of  their  fituation.  They  were  a  little 
ftate,  furrounded  by  a  multitude  of  otK^r 
little  ftates,  and  they  had  no  fafety  but  in 
union.  "Neceflity  firfl  roufed  the  genius 
of  war,  and  the  habits  of  experienced  and. 
fuccefsful  valour  kept  him  awake.  The 
love  of  wealth  and  power,  in  latter  ages, 
carried  on  what  original  bravery  had  begun  : 
till,  in  the  unavoidable  viciffitude  of  human 
affairs,  Rome  periflied  beneatif  the  weight 
of  that  pile  of  glory  which  fhe  had  been  fa 
ong  rearing  *.** 

*  Carlo  Denina  on  the  ancient  Republics  of  Italy, 

Their 


113  ROME, 

Their  laws  and  conftltution  were  natu- 
rally calculated  to  promote  their  public 
fpirit,  and  to  produce  their  union.  Having 
fucceeded  in  repelling  the  attacks  of  the 
fmall  rival  powers,  and,  by  their  peculiar 
fortune,  or  rather  by  the  defignation  of  Pro- 
vidence, having  become  the  predominating 
power  in  Italy,  they  proceeded  to  add  con- 
quefl  to  conqueft,  making  in  the  pride  of 
confcious  fuperiority,  wars  evidently  the 
mod  unjuft.  Yet  it  mufl;  not  be  denied, 
that  the  occupation  which  progrellive  con- 
queils  found  for  the  citizens,  communicated 
a  peculiar  hardinefs  to  the  Roman  charac- 
ter, and  ferved  to  retard  the  growth  both 
of  luxury  and  fadion.  That  public  fpirit, 
which  might  be  juftified  when  it  applied 
itfelf  to  wars  of  felf-defence,  became  by 
degrees  little  better  than  the  principle  of  a 
band  of  robbers  on  a  great  fcale  ;  at  the  beft, 
of  honourable  robbers,  who,  for  the  fake  of 
the  fpoil,  agree  fairly  to  co-operate  in  order 
to  obtain  it,  and  divide  it  equally  when  it 
is  obtained. 

This 


ROME.  113 

This  public  fpirit  feems  to  have  exifted 
fo  long  as  there  were  any  obje£ts  of  foreign, 
ambition  remaining,    and    fo    long  as  any 
fenfe  was  left  of  foreign  danger.     Even  in 
the  midft  of  unlawful  and  unrelenting  war, 
it  is  important  to  bear  in  mind,  that  many 
of  the  ancient  virtues  were  flill  afliduoufly 
cultivated ;  the  laws  were  ftill  had  in  re- 
verence, and,  in  fpite   of  a  corrupt  Poly- 
theifm,  and  of  many  and  great  defeds  in 
the  morality  and  the  conftitution  of  Rome, 
this  was  the  fait  which,  for  a  time,  preferved 
her.     The  firmnefs  of  charafter,  and  deep 
political  fagacity  of  the  Romans,  feem  to 
have   borne   an   exad  proportion  to  each 
other.     That   forefeeing   wifdom,  that  pe- 
netrating policy,   which  led  Montefquieu  to 
obferve,  that  they  conquered  the  world  by 
maxims   and  principles^  feem  in  reality,  t« 
have  infured  the  fuccefs  of  their  conquefls, 
almoft  more  than  their  high  national  valour, 
and  their  bold  fpirit  of  enterprize. 

What  was   it  which  afterwards  plunged 
VOL.  I.  I  Rome 


IT4  ROME. 

Rome  into  the  lowefl  depths  of  degrada- 
tion, and  finally  blotted  her  out  from  among 
the  nations  ?    It  was  her  renouncing  thofe 
maxims  and  principles.     It  was  her  departure 
from  every  virtuous  and  felf-denying  habit. 
It  was  the  gradual  relaxation  of  private  mo- 
rals.    It  was  the  fubflitution  of  luxury  for 
temperance,  and  of  a   mean   and  narrow 
felfifhnefs  for  public  fpirit.     It  was  a  con- 
tempt for  the  fober  manners  of  the  ancient 
republic,  and  a  dereliction  of  the  old  prin- 
ciples of  government,  even  while  the  forms 
of  that  government  were  retained.     It  was 
the  introdudion  of  a  new  philofophy  more 
favourable  to  fenfuality  ;  it  was  the  impor- 
tation, by  her  Afiatic  proconfuls,  of  every 
luxury  which  could  pamper  that  fenfuality. 
It  was,  in  fhort,  the  evils,  refulting  from 
thofe  two  palTions  which  monopolized  their 
fouls,  the  lufl:  of  power,  and  the  lull  of  gold. 
Thefe  paffions  operated  on  each  other,  as 
caufe  and  efFefl:,  adlion   and  re-a£lion  ;  and 
produced  that  rapid  corruption  which  Sal- 
lull 


ROME.  115 


lufl:  defcrlbes  with  fo  much  fpirit  —  Mores 
?najorum  non  paulatim  ut  antea,  fed  torrentis 
modo  prec'ipitati.  Profligacy,  venality,  pe- 
culation, oppreffion,  fucceeded  to  that  fim- 
plicity,  patriotifm,  and  high-minded  difin- 
tereftednefs,  on  which  this  nation  had  once 
fo  much  valued  itfelf,  and  which  had  at- 
tra6led  the  admiration  of  the  world.  So 
that  Rome,  in  the  days  of  her  priftine  fe- 
verity  of  manners,  and  Rome  in  the  lafl 
period  of  her  freedom,  exhibits  a  ftronger 
contrafl:  than  will  be  found  between  almofl 
any  two  countries. 

This  depravation  does  not  refer  to  foli- 
tary  inftances,  to  the  fhameleffnefs  of  a 
Verres,  or  the  profligacy  of  a  Pifo,  but  to 
the  general  praftice  of  avowed  corruption 
and  fyflematic  venality.  By  the  jufl  judg- 
ment of  Providence,  the  enjoyment  of  the 
fpoils  brought  home  from  the  conquered 
nations  corrupted  the  conquerors ;  and  at 
length  compelled  Rome,  in  her  turn,  both 
to  fly  before  her  enemies,  and  to  bow  down 

1  2  her 


Il6  ROME. 

her  head  under  the  mofl  Intolerable  domeftic 
yoke.  Rome  had  no  more  the  fpirit  to 
make  any  faint  ftruggle  for  liberty  after  the 
death  of  C^far,  than  Greece  after  that  of 
Alexander,  though  to  each  the  occafion 
feemed  to  prefent  itfelf.  Neither  ftate  had 
virtue  enough  left  to  deferve,  or  even  to  de- 
fire  to  be  free.  The  wifdom  of  Cato  fhould, 
in  the  cafe  of  Rome,  have  difcovered  this  ; 
and  it  fhould  have  fpared  him  the  fruitlefs 
attempt  to  reftore  liberty  to  a  countiy 
which  its  vices  had  enflaved,  and  have  pre- 
ferved  him,  even  on  his  own  principles, 
from  felf-deflru6lion. 

Among  the  caufes  of  the  political  fervi- 
tude  of  Rome  may  be  reckoned,  in  a  con- 
fiderable  degree,  the  inllitution  of  the  Pre- 
torian  bands,  who,  in  a  great  meafure,  go- 
verned both  the  Romans  and  the  emperors. 
Thefe  Pretorian  bands  prefented  the  chief 
difficulty  in   the   way   of  good   emperors, 
fome  of  whom  they  deftroyed  for  attempt- 
ing to  reform  them  ;  and  of  the  bad  empe- 
rors they  were  the  eled:ors. 

In 


ROME.  117 

In  perufing  the  Roman  hlftory,  thefe^ 
and  other  caufes  of  the  decline  and  fall  of 
the  empire,  fhould  be  carefully  fhewn ;  the 
tendency  of  private  vices  to  produce  fac- 
tions, and  the  tendency  of  factions  to  over- 
throw liberty  ;  a  fpirit  of  diffention,  and  a 
rapid  deterioration  of  morals,  being,  in  all 
ftates,  the  mofl  deadly,  and,  indeed,  the 
infeparable  fymptoms  of  expiring  freedom. 
The  no  lefs  baneful  influence  of  arbitrary 
power,  in  the  cafe  of  the  many  profligate  and 
cruel  emperors  who  fucceeded,  fhould  be 
clearly  pointed  out. 

It  is  alfo  a  falutary  leflbn  on  the  hunger 
of  conquefl:,  and  the  vanity  of  ambition,  to 
trace  the  Roman  power,  by  its  vaft  accef- 
fion  of  territory,  lofing  in  folidity  what  it 
gained  in  expanfion  ;  furnifliing  a  lafting 
example  to  future  empires,  who  trufl  too 
much  for  the  fl;ability  of  their  greatnefs  to 
the  deceitful  fplendour  of  remote  acquifition, 
and  the  precarious  fupport  of  diflant  colo- 
nial attachment. 

I  3  Above 


Il8  ROME. 

Above  all,  the  fall  of  Rome  may  be  at- 
tributed, in  no  fmall  degree,  to  the  progrefs, 
and,   gradually,    to    the  prevalence  of  the 
Epicurean  philofophy,  and   to  its   effefl;  in 
taking  away   that   reverence  for  the  gods, 
which  alone  could  preferve  that  deep  fenfe 
of  the  fan£tity  of  oaths  for  which  Rome,  in 
her  better  days,  had  been  fo  diflinguilhed. 
She  had  originally  ellablifhed  her  political 
fyflem  on   this  fear  of  the  gods ;  and  the 
people  continued,  as  appears  from  Livy,  to 
pra£tife  the  duties  of  their  religion  *  (fuch 
as   it   was)    more    fcrupuloufly   than    any 
other  ancient  nation.     The  moft  amiable  of 
the  Roman  patriots  attributes  the  antece- 
dent fuccefs  and  grandeur  of  his  country  to 
their  convidion,  '•  that  all  events  are  direct- 
ed by  a  Divine  Power  f  j"  and  Polybius, 

•*  Nulla   unquara    refpublica    fanftior,     nee  bonis 
pxemplis  ditior  fuitj 

f  3ee  Montagu  on  the  Rife  and  Fall  of  Ancient 
Republics. 

fpeaking 


ROME.  115 

fpeaking  mefely  as  a  politician,  accufes  Tome, 
in  his  age,  of  rarnnefs  and  abfurdity,  for 
endeavouring  to  extirpate  the  fear  of  the 
gods  J  declaring,  that  what  others  held  to 
be  an  objeft  of  difgrace,  he  believed  to  be 
the  very  thing  by  which  the  republic  vv^as 
fuftained.  He  illuftrates  his  pofition  by 
adducing  the  conduQ:  of  the  two  great 
ftates,  one  of  which,  from  its  adoption  of 
the  doclrines  of  Epicurus,  had  no  fenfe  of 
religion  left,  and  confequently  no  reverence 
for  the  folemnities  of  an  oath,  which  the 
other  retained  in  its  full  force.  "  If,  among 
the  Greeks,"  fays  he,  ''  a  fmgle  talent 
only  be  intrufted  to  thofe  who  have  the 
management  of  any  of  the  public  money, 
though  they  give  ten  written  fureties,  with 
as  many  feals,  and  twice  as  many  witnelTes, 
they  are  unable  to  difcharge  the  trufl  re- 
pofed  in  them  with  integrity,  —  while  the 
Romans,  who,  in  their  magiitracies  and  em- 
baffies,  difburfe  the  great  ell  funis,  are  pre- 
vailed on,  by  the  fmgle  obligation  of  an  oatb^ 

I  4  to 


120  ROME. 

to  perform   their  duty  with  inviolable  ho- 
nefly  *." 

In  her  fubfequent  total  derelidion  of  this 
integrity,  what  a  leflbn  does  Rome  hold  out 
to  us,  to  be  careful  not  to  lofe  the  influ- 
ences of  a  purer  religion  !  To  guard,  efpe- 
cially,  againft  the  fatal  effefts  of  a  needlefs 
multiplication  of  oaths^  and  the  light  mode 
in  which  they  are  too  frequently  admini- 
ftered !  The  citizens  of  Rome,  in  the  days 
of  the  younger  Cato,  had  no  refource  left 
againft  this  preffing  evil,  becaufe  it  v^as  in 
vain  to  inculcate  a  reverence  for  their 
gods,  and  to  revive  the  influence  of  their 
religion.  But,  if  even  the  belief  of  falfe 
gods  had  the  power  of  conveying  political 
and  moral  benefits,  which  the  dark  fyftem  of 
Atheifm  annihilated,  how  earneftly  fhould 
WE  endeavour  to  renovate  and  diffufe  the 
ancient  deference  for  the  true  religion,  by 
teaching  fyftematically  and  ferioufly,  to  our 

*  Hampton's  Polybius,   vol.  ii.  book  6.  on  the 
Excellencies  of  the  Roman  government. 

youth^ 


ROME.  121 

youth,  the  divine  principles  of  that  Chrifli- 
anity  which,  in  better  times,  was  the  ho- 
nourable pradice  of  our  forefathers,  and 
which  can  alone  reflore  a  due  veneration 
for  the  folemnity  of  oaths  *. 

•*  The  admirable  Hooker  obferves,  that  even  the 
falfeft  religions  were  mixed  with  fome  truths,  which 
had  "  very  notable  efFeds."  Speaking  of  the  dread 
of  perjury  in  the  ancient  Romans,  he  adds,  "  It  was 
their  hurt  untruly  to  attribute  fo  great  power  to  falfe 
gods,  as  that  they  were  able  to  profecute,  with  fear- 
ful tokens  of  divine  revenge,  the  wilful  violation  of 
oaths  and  execrable  blafphemies,  offered  by  deriders 
of  religion  even  unto  thofe  falfe  gods.  Yet  the  right 
belief  which  they  had,  that  to  perjury  vengeance  is 
due,  was  not  without  good  effeft,  as  touching  the 
courfe  of  their  lives  who  feared  the  wilful  violation  oi 
oaths."  —  Ecclefiaftical  Polity. 


CHAP. 


222      CHARACT£RS   OF    HISTORIANS. 


CHAP.  IX. 

Charaders  of  Hijlorians ^  who  were  concerned 
in  the  Tranfadtions  which  they  record. 

vJf  the  modern  writers  of  ancient  hiftory, 
the   young   reader  will  find   that   Rollin  * 
has,  in    one  refpect,    the    decided   fuperi" 
ority ;  we  mean,  in  his  practice  of  intermix- 
ing ufeful  reflexions    on    events  and   cha- 
racters.    But,    we   fhould    flrongly  recom 
mend  the  perufal  of  fuch  portions  of  the 
original  ancient  hiflorians,  as  a  judicious 
preceptor  would   feleft.     And,  in  reading 
hiflorians,  or  politicians,  ancient  or  modern, 
the  mofl  likely  way  to  efcape  theories  and 
fables,  is  to  fludy   thofe  writers  who  were 
themfelves  a6tors  in  the  fcenes   which  they 
record. 

Among  the  principal  of  thefe  is  —  Thu- 
CYDiDESj  whofe  opportunities  of  obtaining 

^  The  writer  forbears  to  name  living  authors. 

informa- 


CHARACTERS    OF    HISTORIANS.      1 23 

Information,  whofe   diligence  in  collecting 
it,  and  whofe  judgment  and  fidelity  in  re- 
cording it,  have  obtained  for   him  the  ge- 
neral fuffrage  of  the  befl  judges  ;  who  had 
a  confiderable  fhare  in  many   of  the  events 
which  he  records,  having  been  an  unfortu- 
nate,  though    meritorious    commander    in 
the   Peloponnefian   war,  of  which  he  is  the 
incomparable  hiftorian  ;  —  whofe  chronolo- 
gical accuracy  is  derived  from  his  early'  cuf- 
tom  of  preparing  materials   as  the  events 
arofe ;  and   whofe  genius   confers  as  much 
honour,    as    his    unmerited    exile    reflecls 
difgrace,  on  his  native   Athens.     In   popu- 
lar governments,  and  in  none  perhaps   fo 
much  as  in  thofe  of  Greece,   the  ill  effecls 
or  mifmanagcment  at  home  have  been  too 
frequently  charged  on  thofe  who  have  had 
the  conduft  of  armies  abroad  ;  and  where  a 
facrifice  muft  be  made,  that  of  the  abfent  is 
always  the  mofl  eafy.     The  integrity  and  pa- 
triotifm  of  Thucydides,  hov/ever,  were  proof 
againfl  the  ingratitude  of  the  repubhc.     His 

\vork; 


124     CHARACTERS    OF    HISTORIANS. 

work  was  as  impartial  as  if  Athens  had  been 
juft  ;  like  Clarendon^  he  devoted  the  period 
of  his  banilhment  to  the  compofition  of  a  hif- 
tory,  which  was  the  glory  of  the  country  that 
banifhed  him.  —  A  model   of  candour,  he 
wrote  not  for  a  party  or  a  people,  but  for 
the  world  ;  not  for  the  applaufe  of  his  age, 
but  theinftrudionofpoflerity.  A^d  though 
his  energy,  fpirit,  aud  variety  mufl  interell 
all  readers  of  tafte,  flatefmen  will  befl  know 
his   value,  and  politicians  will  look  up   to 
him  as  a  mafter.  —  Xenophon,-  the  Attic 
bee,  equally  admirable  in  whatever  point  of 
view  he  is  confidered  ;   a  confummate  gene- 
ral, hiilorian,  and  philofopher  ;  who  carried 
on  the  hiftoric  feries  of  the  Greek  revolu- 
tions from  the  period  at  which  Thucydides 
difcontinued  it ;  like   him,  was  driven  into 
banilhment  from  that  country,  of  which  he 
was  fo  bright  an  ornament_,  — 

And  with  his  exil'd  hours  enrich'd  the  world  ! 

The  conductor  and  narrator  of  a  retreat 

more 


CHARACTERS   OF    HISTORIANS.      1 25 

more  honourable  and  more  celebrated  than 
the  vidories  of  other  leaders  ;  a  writer,  who 
is  confidered  by  the  firft  Roman  critic,  as 
the  moft  exquifite  model  of  fmiplicity  and 
elegance  ;  and  who,  in  almofl  all  the  tranf- 
aftions  which  he  relates,  magna  parsfiiit.  — 
PoLYBius,  trained  to  be  a  flatefman  in 
the  Achaean  league,  and  a  warrior  at  the 
conqueft  of  Carthage  ;  the  friend  of  Sci- 
pio,  and  the  follower  of  Fabius  ;  and  who 
is  faid  to  be  more  experimentally  acquainted 
with  the  wars  and  politics  of  which  he 
treats,  than  any  other  Greek.  He  is, 
however,  more  authentic  than  entertaining  ; 
and  the  votaries  of  certain  modern  hifto-> 
rians,  who  are  fatisfied  vvith  an  epigram 
inftead  of  a  fa£l,  who  like  turns  of  wit 
tetter  than  found  political  reflections,  and 
prefer  an  antithefis  to  truth,  will  not  juflly 
appreciate  the  merit  of  Polybius,  whofe 
love  of  authenticity  induced  him  to  make 
feveral  voyages  to  the  places  of  which  his 
fubjefts  led  him  to  fpeak.  —  C^sar,  of 
whom  it  would  be  difficult  to  fay,  whether 

he 


Ii6    CHARACTERS  OF  HISTORIANS. 

he  planned  his  battles  with  more  fkill,  fought 
them  with  more  valour,  or  defcribed  them 
with  more  ability ;  or  whether  his  fword 
or  pen  executed  his  purpofes  with  more 
celerity  and  effed  ;  but,  .who  will  be  lefs 
interefting  to  the  general  reader,  than  to 
the  flatefman  and  foldier.  His  commen- 
taries, indeed,  will  be  perufed  with  lefs  ad- 
vantage by  the  hereditary  fuccelTor  of  the 
fovereign  of  a  fettled  conflitution,  than  by 
thofe  who  are  ftruggling  with  the  evils  of 
civil  commotion.  — Joinville,  whofe  life  of 
his  great  mafter.  Saint  Louis,  is  written  with 
the  fpirit  of  the  ancient  nobles,  and  the 
vivid  earneftnefs  of  one,  who  faw  with 
interefl  what  he  defcribes  with  fidelity ; 
having  been  companion  to  the  King  in  the 
expeditions  which  he  records. — Philippe 
DE  CoMiNES,  v;ho  poffelfed,  by  his  perfonal 
concern  in  public  affairs,  all  the  avenues 
to  the  political  and  hiftorical  knowledge 
of  his  time,  and  whofe  memoirs  will  be 
admired  while  acute  penetration,  found  fenfe, 
and  folid  judgment  furvive.  —  Davila,  who 

learned 


CHARACTERS   OF  HISTORIANS.      IIJ 

learned  the  art  of  war  under  that  great 
mafter,  Henry  the  Fourth  of  France,  and 
whofe  hiflory  of  the  civil  wars  of  that  coun- 
try furnifhes  a  variety  of  valuable  mat- 
ter; who  pofleffes  the  happy  talent  of 
giving  intereft  to  details,  which  would  be 
dry  in  other  hands  ;  who  brings  before  the 
eyes  of  the  reader,  every  place  v/hich  he  de- 
fcribes,  and  every  fcene  in  which  he  was  en- 
gaged ;  while  his  intimate  knowledge  of  bu- 
fmefs,  and  of  human  nature,  enables  him  to 
unveil  with  addrefs,  the  myileries  of  nego- 
tiation, and  the  fubtilties  of  ftatefmen. 
This  excellent  work  is  difgraced  by  the 
mofl  difgufling  panegyrics  on  the  execrable 
Catherine  di  Medici,  an  offence  againfl 
truth  and  virtue,  too  glaring  to  be  atoned 
for  by  any  fenfe  of  perfonal  obligation. 
In  confequence  of  this  partiality,  he  fpeaks 
of  the  maflacre  of  Saint  Bartholomew,  as 
nightly  as  if  it  had  been  a  merely  common 
adt  of  neceffary  rigour  on  a  few  criminals ; 
an  execution  being  the  cool  term  by  which 

.       he 


128      CHARACTERS  OF  HISTORIANS. 

he  defcribes  that  tremendous  deed  *.  — 
GuicciARDiN,  a  diplomatic  hiflorian,  a 
lawyer,  and  a  patriot;  whofe  tedious  ora- 
tions and  florid  ftyle  cannot  deftroy  the 
merit  of  his  great  work,  the  value  of  which 
is  enhanced  by  the  piety  and  probity  of 
his  own  mind.  — Sully,  the  intrepid  war- 
rior, the  able  financier,  the  uncorrupt  mi- 
nifler,  who  generally  regulated  the  deep 
defigns  of  the  confummate  ftatefman,  by 
the  inflexible  rules  of  religion  and  jufliice ; 
whofe  memoirs  fliould  be  read  by  minifliers, 
to  inflirud:  them  how  to  ferve  kings ;  and 
by  kings,  to  teach  them  how  to  chufe 
miniilers.  — Cardinal  de  Retz,  who  de- 
lineates with  accuracy  and  fpirit  the  prin- 
cipal a£tors  in  the  wars  of  the  Fronde,  in 
which  he  himfelf  had  been  a  chief  agent ; 
who  develops  the  diflimulation  of  courts, 

*  Who  can  help  regretting  that  the  luftre  of  one 
of  the  moft  elegant  works  of  antiquity,  Quintilian's 
Inftitution  of  an  Orator,  fliould  be  in  a  fimilar  manner 
tarnifhed  by  the  moft  prepofterous  panegyrics  on  the 
Emperor  Domitian  ? 

1  with 


CHARACTERS    OF   HISTORIANS.       1 29 

with  the  ikilfulnefs  of  an  adept  in  the  arts 
which  he  unfolds,  yet  affeding,  while  he 
pourtrays  the  artifices  of  others,  a  fimpli- 
city,  the  very  reverfe  of  his  real  character  ; 
while  his  levity  in  writing  retains  fo  much 
of  the  licentioufnefs,  and  want  of  moral 
and  religious  principle  of  his  former  life, 
that  he  cannot  be  fafely  recommended  to 
thofe  whofe  principles  of  judgment  and 
condud  are  not  fixed.  Yet,  his  characters 
of  the  two  famous  cardinal  prime  minifters 
may  be  read  with  advantage  by  thofe, 
whofe  bufmefs  leads  them  to  fuch  ftudies. 
The  reader  of  de  Retz  will  find  frequent 
occafion  to  recognize  the  homage  which 
even  impiety  and  vice  pay  to  religion  and 
virtue,  while  the  abundant  corruptions  of 
Popery  will  call  forth  from  every  confi- 
derate  Proteflant,  devout  fenfations  of  gra- 
titude to  Heaven,  for  having  delivered  us 
from  the  tyranny  of  a  fyftem,  fo  favourable 
to  the  produdion  of  the  rankeft  abufes  in 
the  church,  and  the  groffeft  fuperftition  in 
the  people.— Temple,  the  zealous  nego- 
VOL,  I.  K  tiator 


130      CHARACTERS    OF    HISTORIANS. 

tiator  of  the  triple  alliance,  and  worthy,  by 
his  fpirit  and  candour,  to  be  the  affociate 
of  De  Wit  in  that  great  bulinefs  which 
was  tranfa£ted  between  them,  with  the 
liberal  fpirit,  and  honourable  confidence  of 
private  friendfhip.  His  writings  give  the 
cleared  infight  into  the  period  and  events 
of  which  he  treats ;  and  his  eafy,  though 
carelefs  ftyle,  and  well-bred  manner,  would 
come,  almoft  more  than  any  other,  under 
the  defcription  of  what  may  be  called  the 
genteel,  did  not  his  vanity  a  little  break  the 
charm.  None,  however,  except  his  political 
writings,  are  meant  to  be  recommended ; 
his  religious  opinions  being  highly  excep- 
tionable and  abfurd.  Yet  it  is  but  juftice 
to  add,  that  his  unambitious  temper,  his 
fondnefs  for  private  life,  his  enjoyment  of 
its  peace,  and  his  tafle  for  its  pleafures,  ren- 
der his  character  fntereiling  and  amiable. — 
The  manners-painting  CLARENDON,the  able 
chancellor,  the  exemplary  minifter,  the  in- 
flexible patriot,  who  ftemmed,  almoft  fingly, 
the  torrent  of  vice,  corruption,  and  vena- 
lity ; 


CHARACTERS    OF    HISTORIANS.        I-^I 

Iky ;  and  who  was  not  afhamed  of  being 
religious  in  a  court  which  was  afnamed  of 
nothing  elfe ;  whom  the  cabal  hated  for  his 
integrity,  and  the  court  for  his  purity ;  a 
ftatefman  who  might  have  had  itatues  erect- 
ed to  him  in  any  other  period  but  that  in 
which  he  lived  ;  would  have  reformed  mofl 
other  governmeiits  but  that  to  which  he 
belonged,  and  been  fuppoited  by  almofl 
any  king  but  him  whom  he  had  the  misfor- 
tune to  ferve.  Clarendon,  the  faithful 
biographer  of  his  own  hfe  ;  the  majeftic  and 
dignified  hiftorian  of  the  grand  rebellion ; 
whofe  periods  fometimes  want  beauty,  but 
never  fenfe,  though  that  fenfe  is  often  wrap- 
ped up  in  an  involution  and  perplexity  which 
a  little  obfcure  it ;  whofe  flyle  is  weighty 
and  lignificant,  though  fomewhat  retarded 
by  the  ftatelinefs  of  its  march,  and  fome- 
what encumbered  with  a  redundancy  of 
words. — ToRCY,  whofe  memoirs,  though 
they  may  be  thought  to  bear  rather  hard  on 
the  famous  plenipotentiaries  with  whom  he 
negotiated,  and  on  the  haughtinefs  of  the 

K  2  ajlie« 


J32      CHARACTERS    OF   HISTORIANS. 

allies  who  employed  them,  are  written  with 
much  good  fenfe,  modefty,  and  temper. 
They  prefent  a  flriking  reverfe  in  the  for- 
tune of  the  imperious  diflurber  of  Europe, 
*^  fallen  from  his  high  ellate/'  He  who 
had  been  ufed  to  give  his  orders  from  the 
banks  of  the  Po,  the  Danube,  and  the  Ta- 
gus,  is  feen  reduced  to  fupplicate  for  peace, 
and  to  exchange  the  infolence  of  triumph 
for  the  hope  of  exiflence.  Two  Dutch 
burgomaflers,  haughtily  impofmg  their  own 
terms  on  a  monarch  who  had  before  filled 
France  with  admiration,  and  Europe  with 
alarm.  This  reverfe  muft  imprefs  the  mind 
of  the  reader,  as  it  does  that  of  the  writer, 
with  an  afFeding  fenfe  of  that  controlling 
Providence,  which  thus  derides  the  madnefs 
of  ambition,  and  the  folly  of  worldly  wif- 
dom ;  that  Providence  which,  in  maintain- 
ing its  charadler  of  being  the  abafer  of  the 
proud,  produces,  by  means,  at  firfl  fight 
the  moft  oppofite,  the  accomplifhment  of 
its  own  purpofes  j  and  renders  the  unprin- 
cipled luft  of  dominion  the  inftrument  of 

its 


CHARACTERS  OF   HISTORIANS,       1 33 

its  own  humiliation.  The  difficulties  of  a 
negotiator,  who  has  to  conclude  an  inglo- 
rious though  indifpenfable  treaty,  are  feel- 
ingly defcribed,  as  well  as  the  too  natural^ 
though  hard  fate  of  a  minifler,  who  is 
driven  to  fuch  an  unfortunate  meafure  as 
that  of  being  confidered  as  the  inftrument 
pi  dilhonour  to  h^s  country.  His  pious  re- 
cognition of  God,  as  the  fupreme  difpofer 
of  events,  is  worthy  of  great  praife. — The 
.copious  and  fluent  Burnet,  whofe  dilfufe, 
but  interefling  hijiory  of  his  own  times^  in- 
forms and  pleafes  j  though  the  loofe  texture 
of  his  flovenly  narration  would  not  now  be 
tolerated  in  a  newfpaper ;  who  faw  a  great 
deal,  and  wifhes  to  have  it  thought  that  he 
faw  every  thing  ;  whofe  egotifm  we  forgive 
for  the  fake  of  his  franknefs,  and  whofe  mi- 
nutenefs  for  the  fake  of  his  accuracy ;  who, 
if  ever  he  exceeds,  it  i?  always  on  the  fide  of 
liberty  and  toleration  ;  an  excefs  fafe  enough 
when  the  writer  is  foundly  loyal,  and  ,un- 
quellionably  pious  \  and  more  efpecially  fafe 
when  the  reader  is  a  prince.— Lady  Rus» 

K   3  SELL, 


£34       CHARACTERS    OF    HISTORIANS. 

SELL,  worthy  of  being  the  daughter  of  the 
virtuous  Southampton  ;  too  fatally  conneft- 
fed  with  the  unhappy  poHtics  of  the  times  ; 
whofe  life  was  a  practical  illuftration  of  her 
faith  in  the  divine  fupport,  and  of  fubmif*' 
fion  to  the  divine  will ;  and  whofe  letters, 
by  their  found  and  fober  piety,  ftrong  fenfe, 
and  ufeful  information,  eclipfe  all  thofe  of 
her  learned  and  diflinguiflied  correfpon- 
dents. 


CHAP. 


3LEPLECTI0NS    ON    HISTORY.         I35 


CHAP.  X. 

Refleclions  on  Hijiory — Ancient  H'l/iorians^ 

Xf,  however,  the  hiftorian  be  a  compa- 
triot, and  efpecially  if  he  be  a  contempo- 
rary, even  though  he  was  no  adtor  in  the 
drama,  it  is  difficult  for  him  not  to  range 
himfelf  too  uniformly  on  one  fic|e  or  the 
other.  The  human  mind  has  a  ftrong  na- 
tural bias  to  adopt  exclufive  attachments. 
Perhaps  man  may  be  defined  to  be  an  ani- 
7nal  that  delights  in  party.  Yet  we  are  inclined 
to  believe  that  an  hiftorian,  though  he  may 
be  partial  and  interefled,  yet,  if  he  be  keen- 
fighted  and  intelligent  as  to  the  fadts  of 
which  he  fpeaks,  is,  on  the  whole,  a  better 
witnefs  than  a  more  fair  and  candid,  but 
worfe-informed  man ;  becaufe  we  may  more 
eafily  calculate  the  degree  of  allowance  to 
be  made  for  partiality  and  prejudice,  than 
we  can  eflimate  that  which  is  to  be  made  for 

K  4  defeft 


1^6        REFLECTIONS    ON    HISTORY. 

defe£l  of  information.  Of  two  evils,  there- 
fore, we  fhould  prefer  a  prejudiced,  but 
well-informed,  to  a  rnore  impartial,  but  lefs 
enlightened  narrator. 

When  materials  are  frefh,  they  are  more 
likely  to  be  authentic  ;  but,  unfortunately, 
"when  it  is  more  eafy  to  obtain,  it  is  often 
lefs  fafe  to  employ  them.  When  the  events 
are  more  remote,  their  authenticity  is  more 
difficult  to  afcertain ;  and,  when  they  are 
near,  the  paflions  which  they  excite  are 
more  apt  to  warp  the  truth.  Thus,  what 
might  be  gained  in  accuracy  by  nearnefs  of 
pofition,  is  liable  to  be  loft  in  the  partiality 
which  that  very  pofition  induces.  The  true 
point  of  vifion  is  attained,  when  the  eye  and 
the  object  are  placed  at  their  due  diftance. 
The  reader  who  comes  to  the  perufal  of  the 
work,  in  a  more  unimpafiioned  frame  than, 
perhaps,  the  author  wrote,  will  beft  collecl: 
the  characters  from  the  narrative,  if  fairly 
given. 

Care  fhould  be  taken  not  to  extol  fhining 
characters  in  the  grofs,   but  to  point  out 

their 


REFLECTIONS    ON    HISTORY.  I37 

their  weaknefles  and  errors  ;  nor  Ihould  the 
brilliant  qualities  of  illuflrious  men  be  fuf- 
fered  to  cail  a  veil  over  their  vices,  or  fo 
to  fafcinate  the  young  reader,  as  to  excite 
admiration  of  their  very  faults.  Even  in 
perufmg  facred  hijiory^  we  fhould  never 
extenuate,  much  lefs  juflify,  the  errors  of 
great  charafters,  but  make  them,  at  once, 
a  ground  for  eftabliihing  the  do<Strine  of 
general  corruption,  and  for  quickening  our 
own  vigilance.  The  weakneifes  of  the 
wifeil,  and  the  errors  of  the  beft,  while  they 
fiiould  be  regarded  with  candour,  muft  not 
be  held  up  to  imitation.  It  has  been  rea- 
fonably  conjeflured,  that  many  ads  of  cruel- 
ty in  Alexander,  whofe  difpofition  was  na- 
turally merciful,  were  not  a  little  owing  to 
one  of  his  preceptors  having  been  early 
accuftomed  to  call  himfelf  Phoenix,  and  his 
pupil  Achilles ;  and  thus  to  have  habitually 
trained  him  to  an  imitation  even  of  the  vices 
of  this  ferocious  hero, 

A  prince  nmfl  not  fludy  hiflory  merely 
to  flore  his  memory  with  amufmg  narra^ 
tives  or  infulated  events,  but  with  a  view  to 

.     trace 


135         REFLECTIONS    ON    HISTORY. 

trace  the   dependence  of  one  event   upon 
another.     A  common  reader  will  be  fatif- 
fied  with  knowing  the  exploits  of  Scipio  or 
Hannibal,  and  will  be  fuiEciently  entertained 
with  the  defcription  of  the  riches  or  beauty 
of   fuch    renowned    cities   as    Carthage  or 
Rome ;    but  a  prince   (who  is  alfo  a  poli- 
tician) fludies  hiftory,  in  order  to  obferve 
how  ambition,  operating  on  the  breafts  of 
two  rival  flates,  led  to  one  war  after  another 
between   thefe  two  flates.     By  what  fteps 
the  ruin  of  the  one,  and  the  trium.ph  of  the 
other,  were  haflened  or  delayed ;  by  what 
indications  the  final  cataftrophe  might  have 
been  antecedently  known,  or  hj  what  mea- 
fures  it  might  have  been  averted.     He  is 
interefled  not  merely  when  a  fignal  event 
arifes,  but  by  the  whole  ikill  of  the  game  ; 
and  he  is,  on  this  account,  anxious  to  pof- 
fefs  many  inferior  circumfcances,  ferving  to 
unite  one  event  with  another,  which,  to  the 
ordinary  reader,    appear    infignificant    and 
dull.     Again,  in  the  cafe  of  Pompey  and 
Cgefar,  the  reflecting  politician  connects  the 
triumphs   of  the   latter   with   the   political 

and 


REFLECTIONS    CN    HISTORY.  1 39 

and  moral  (late  of  Rome.  He  bears  in  mind 
the  luxurious  habits  of  the  Patricians,  who 
became  the  officers  in  Pompey's  army ;  the 
grgxiual  decay  of  public  fpirit,  the  licenti- 
oufnefs  and  venality  of  the  capital,  and  the 
arts  by  which  C2sfar  had  prepared  his  troops, 
while  they  were  in  Gaul,  for  the  contention 
which  he  already  meditated  for  the  empire 
of  the  world.  He  will,  in  idea,  fee  that 
world  already  vanquifhed,  when  he  confi- 
ders  the  profound  policy  of  this  conqueror, 
who,  on  being  appointed  to  the  government 
of  Gaul  on  both  fides  the  Alps,  by  exciting 
the  Gauls  to  folicit  the  fame  privileges  with 
the  Italians,  opened  to  himfelf  this  double 
advantage  :  —  the  difturbance  which  this 
would  occafion  in  Rome,  would  lift  him 
into  abfolute  power ;  while,  by  his  kind- 
nefs  and  protection  to  thefe  people,  he 
gained  an  acceffionof  flrength  to  overthrow 
his  competitors.  The  ordinary  reader  is 
fatisfied  with  the  battle  of  Pharfalia  for  the 
entertainment  it  affords,  and  admires  the 
fplendour  of  the  triumphs,  without  confider- 
ing  thcfc  thing?  as  links  that  conned  the 

event€ 


140  REFLECTIONS    ON    HISTORY^ 

events  which  are  pafl  with  thofe  which  are 
to  come. 

The  preceptor  of  the  royal  pupil  vvill, 
probably,  think  it  advifeable  to  feled  for 
her  perufal  fome  of  the  Lives  of  Plutarch. 
This  author  teaches  two  things  excellently, 
antiquity  and  human  nature.  He  would 
deferve  admiration,  were  it  only  for  that 
magazine  of  wifdom,  condenfed  in  the  ex- 
cellent fayings  of  fo  many  great  men,  which 
he  has  recorded.  Perhaps,  all  the  hifto- 
rians  together  have  not  tmnfmitted  to  us  fo 
many  of  the  fage  axioms  and  bon  mots  of 
ancient  Greece  and  Rome.  Yet,  in  his 
parallels — if  that  can  be  called  a  parallel 
which  brings  together  two  men  who  have 
commonly  little  or  no  refemblance — even 
the  upright  Plutarch  exhibits  fomething  too 
much  of  the  partiahty  lately  noticed  \  the 
fcale,  whenever  he  weighs  one  of  his  own 
countrymen  againll  a  Roman,  almoil  inva- 
riably inclining  to  the  Greek  fide. 

It  may  alfo  be  deemed  ufeful  to  read  to 
her  a  few  feled:  portions  of  Suetonius. 
Though  he  is  an  author  utterly  unfit  to  bp 

pul 


REFLECTIONS    ON   HISTORY.  I4I 

put  into  youthful,  and,  efpeclally,  into  fe- 
male hands,  yet  a  judicious  inftrudor  may 
fele£l  palTages  particularly  appropriated  to  a 
royal  pupil.     In  truth,  the  writings  of  the 
ancient  authors  of  all  claffes,  hiflorians,  fa- 
tirifts,  poets,  and  even  moralifls,  are  liable 
to  the  fame  objedion,  whether  it  be  Sueto- 
nius, or  Plutarch,  or  Juvenal,  or  even  the 
comparatively-decorous  Virgil,  that  we  take 
in  hand ;  the  perufal  cannot  fail  to  fugged 
to  every  confiderate,  and  efpecially  to  every 
female  reader,  the  obligations  which  we  owe 
to  Chriflianity,  independently  of  its  higher 
ends,  for  having  fo  raifed  the  flandard  of 
morals  and  of  manners,  as  to  have  rendered, 
almoft  too  monftrous  for  belief,    and   too 
fhocking  for  relation,  in  our  days,  the  fa- 
miliar and  uncenfured  incidents  of  ancient 
times.      Suetonius   paints  with  uncommon 
force,  though  too  often  with  offenfive  groff- 
ncfs,  the  crimes  of  the  emperors,  with  their 
fubfequent  miferies  and  punifhments.     Ty- 
rants will  always  deteft  hiftory,  and,  of  all 
hiflorians,  they  will  deteft  Suetonius. 

An  authentic  hiflorian  of  a  deceafed  ty- 
rant 


142  REFLECTIONtS    ON    HISTORY. 

rant  muft  not,  however,  be  confounded  with 
the  malevolent  declaimer  agalnfl  royalty. 
But,  though  the  moll  arbitrary  prince  cannot 
prevent  his  own  poftliumous  difgrace,  yet 
an  honefl  and  confcientious  hiltorian  will 
remember,  that,  while  he  is  detailing  the 
vices  of  a  king,  which  it  is  his  duty  to  enu- 
merate, it  is  his  duty  alfo  carefully  to  avoid 
bringing  the  office  of  the  king  into  contempt. 
And,  while  he  is  expoling  the  individual 
crime,  he  fhould  never  lofe  fight  of  his  re- 
fpedl  for  the  authority  and  Jiation  of  him 
whofe  adions  truth  compels  him  to  record 
in  their  real  charaders.  The  contrary  in- 
fidious  pra<5lice  has  of  late  fo  much  prevail- 
ed, that  the  young  reader  fhould  be  put  on 
his  guard  not  to  fuifer  his  principles  to  be 
undermined  by  the  affectation  of  indignant 
virtue,  mock  patriotifm,  zeal  for  fpurious 
liberty,  and  faditious  morality.  It  is  but 
juftice  to  Mr.  Hume,  againil  whofe  princi- 
ples we  have  thought  it  a  duty  to  bear  our 
mofl  decided  teflimony  *,  to  allow  that, 
in  the  earlier  periods  of  Englifii  hiftory,  he 

•  *  In  chap.  xi. 

carefully 


REFLECTIONS    ON    HISTORY.  I43 

carefully  abflains  from  the  vulgar  error  of 
always  afcribiiig  the  public  calamity,  which 
he  is  relating,  to  the  ambition  or  injuftice  of 
kings  J  but  often  attributes  it,  where  it  is 
often  mrore  juflly  due,  to  the  infolence  ^nd 
oppreffion  of  the  barons,  or  the  turbulence 
and  infubordination  of  the  people.  If  he 
errSj  it  is  on  the  contrary  fide. 

But  let  thofe  licentious  anarchiils,  who 
delight  to  retail  infipid  jefts,  or  to  pubiiili 
unqualified  libels  on  kings  as  kings,  cafi; 
their  eyes  on  an  uninterrupted  fucceffion 
of  five  illuilrious  Roman  emperors,  who, 
though  not  exempt  from  faults,  fome  of 
them  fram  vices,  chiefly  attributable  to  Pa- 
ganifm,  yet  exhibit  fuch  an  unbroken  con- 
tinuity of  great  talents,  and  great  qualities,  as 
it  would,  perhaps,  be  difficult  to  find  in  any 
private  family  for  five  fucceffive  generations. 

The  candour  of  our  excellent  Queen 
Mary  *,  towards  the  biographers  of  princes, 
was  exemplary.  When,  with  an  inten- 
tion  probably    to    foothe    the    royal   ear, 

*  In  chap.  viii. 

5  fome 


J44         REFLECTIONS    ON    HISTORY. 

fome  perfons,  in  her  prefence,  feverely  con- 
demned certain  hiflorians  who  had  made 
reflections  difhonourable  to  the  memory  of 
princes,  fhe  obferved,  that  if  the  princes 
had  given  jufl  ground  for  cenfure,  the  au* 
thors  had  done  well  to  reprefent  them  fairly  5 
and  that  other  fovereigns  muil  expedl  to  be 
dealt  with  in  the  fame  manner,  if  they  gave 
the  fame  caufe.  She  had  even  the  magna- 
nimity to  wiih,  that  all  fuch  princes  would 
read  Procopius,  (an  author  too  much  ad- 
dicted to  blacken  the  memory  of  kings,) 
^  becaufe,"  flie  obferved,  "  however  he 
might  have  exaggerated  the  vices  he  de- 
fcribed,  it  would  be  a  falutary  leiTon  to 
future  princes,  that  they  themfelves  mull 
expefl;  the  fame  treatment,  when  all  reftraint 
was  taken  off,  and  the  dread  of  their  power 
terminated  with  their  lives.'* 

The  late  king  of  PrufTia,  who  united  the 
character  of  an  author  to  that  of  a  warrior, 
was  of  another  way  of  thinking.  He  was 
of  opinion,  that  the  names  of  good  princes 
alone  ihould  be  recorded  in  hiftoryj  and 

that 


ANCIENT    HISTORIANS.  I45 

that  thofe  of  the  wicked  jfhould  be  fufFered 
to  perifh  with  their  crimes  *.  Were  this 
practice  to  be  univerfally  adopted,  might 
we  not  prefume  to  queflion  whether  even 
the  illuflrious  name  of  Frederic  the  Great 
would  be  as  certain,  as  it  is  at  prefent_,  of 
being  carried  down  to  poflerity  ? 

Tacitus  is  the  hiflorian  of  philofophers, 
and  the  oracle  of  politicians.  Highly  valu- 
able for  his  deep  and  acute  reflexions,  in 
which  neither  the  governors  nor  governed 
are  fpared  ;  he  is  an  original  and  profound 
thinker,  and  is  admirable  for  the  plenitude 
of  his  images,  and  the  paucity  of  his  words. 
His  flyle  is  ardent,  and  his  figures  are  bold. 
Vigour,  brevity,  and  point,  are  its  charac- 
teriftics.     He  throws  out  a  ftronger  likenefs 

*  Examen  du  Prince  de  Mach'iavel,  by  the  King  of 
Prujfia.  It  is  curious  to  compare  this  compofition 
of  the  King  with  his  own  condu<^.  To  contralt  his 
ftrong  reprobation  of  the  baneful  glory  of  heroes,  his 
horror  of  conqueft,  and  of  the  cruel  paffions  which 
opprefs  mankind  5  his  profefTed  admiration  of  cle- 
mency, mecknefs,  juftice,  and  compaffion,  with  which 
this  work  abounds, — with  the  aftual  exploits  of  the 
ravager  of  the  fertile  plains  of  Saxony,  &c.  &c.  1  1 
VOL.    I.  L  of 


146  ANCIENT    HISTORIANS. 

of  a  flagitious  Roman  in  three  words,  than 
a  diffufe  writer  would  give  in  as  many  pages* 
In  his  annals  he  is  a  faithful,  occafionally, 
indeed,  a  too  faithful  narrator ;  but  he  is 
alfo,  at  the  fame  time,  an  honeft  and  indig- 
nant reprover  of 'the  atrocious  deeds  which 
he  records.  In  a  man  pafTionately  loving 
liberty,  virtue,  and  his  country,  we  pardon, 
while  painting  the  ruin  of  each,  thofe  dark 
and  fullen  fliades  with  wliich  he  fometimes 
overcharges  the  pi£lure.  Had  he  delineated 
happier  times,  his  tints  would  probably  have 
been  of  a  lighter  caft.  If  he  ever  deceives, 
he  does  not,  at  leaft,  ever  appear  to  intend 
it ;  for  he  gives  rumours  as  rumours,  and 
his  facts  he  generally  grounds  on  the  con- 
-current  teftimony  of  the  times  of  which  he 
writes.  If,  however,  Tacitus  fulfils  one  of 
the  two  duties  which  he  himfelf  prefcribes 
to  hiflorians,  that  of  writing  without  fcar^ 
he  does  not  uniformly  accomplifli  the  other, 
that  of  writing  without  haired  ;  at  lead, 
neither  his  veracity  nor  his  candour  extended 
to  his  rem.arks  on  the  Jews  or  Chriflians. 
But,  with  all  his  diffufenefs,  Livy  is  the 
9  writer 


ANCIENT    HISTORIANS,  I47 

Writer  who  affifls  in  forming  the  tafle^ 
With  all  his  warmth,  there  is  a  beautiful 
fobriety  in  his  narrations  ;  he  docs  not  mag* 
nify  the  aftion,  he  relates  it,  and  pours 
forth,  from  a  full  urn,  a  copious  and  con- 
tinued  itream  of  varied  elegance.  He  di- 
rects the  judgment,  by  pafling  over  flight 
things  in  a  flight  manner,  and  dwelling  only 
on  the  prominent  parts  of  his  fubjedtj 
though  he  has  been  accufed  of  fome  im- 
portant omifTions.  He  keeps  the  attention 
always  alive,  by  exhibiting  paffions  as  well 
as  actions  ;  and  what  bed:  indicates  the  hand 
of  a  mafler,  we  hang  fufpended  on  the  event 
of  his  narrative,  as  if  it  were  a  fiction,  of 
which  the  cataflrophe  is  in  the  power  of  the 
writer,  rather  than  a  real  hiftory,  with  whofe 
termination  we  are  already  acquainted.  He 
is  admirable  no  lefs  for  his  humanity  than 
his  patriotifm ;  and  he  is  one  of  the  few 
hiftorians,  who  have  marked  the  broad  line 
of  difcrimination  between  true  and  falfe 
glory,  not  eredling  pomps,  triumphs,  and 
vlftories,  into  effentials  of  real  greatnefs. 
He  teaches  patience  under  cenfure,  incul- 

L  2  cates 


148  ANCIENT    HISTORIANS. 

cates  a  contempt  of  vulgar  acclamation,  and 
of  all  praife  which  is  not  fairly  earned.  One 
valuable  fuperiority,  which  Livy  poffefTes 
over  his  competitors,  is,  that  in  defcribing 
vice,  and  vicious  charad:ers,  he  fcrupulouHy 
contrives  to  excite  an  abhorrence  of  both  ; 
and  his  relations  never  leave  on  the 
mind  of  the  reader,  a  propenfity  to  the 
crime,  or  a  partiality  for  the  criminal  whom 
he  has  been  defcribing.  A  defeft,  in  this 
acutenefs  of  moral  feeling,  has  been  highly 
pernicious  to  the  youthful  reader  ;  and  this 
too  common  admixture  of  impure  defcrip-' 
tion,  even  when  the  honefl  defign  has  been 
to  expofe  vice,  has  fenfibly  tainted  the 
wholefomenefs  of  hiilioric  compofition. 

Independently  of  thofe  beautiful,  though 
fometimes  redundant  fpeeches,  which  Livy 
puts  into  the  nlouths  of  his  heroes,  his  elo- 
quent and  finifhed  anfwers  to  ambafladors, 
furnifli  a  fpecies  of  rhetoi-ic  peculiarly  appli- 
cable to  a  royal  education. 

It  has  been  regretted  by  fome  of  the 
critics,  that  Livy,  after  enriching  his  own 
work  by  the  rnoft  copious  plagiarifms  from 

his 


ANCIENT    HISTORIANS,  I49 

his  great  precurfor,  Polybius,  commends 
him,  in  a  way  fo  frigid,  as  almofl  to  amount 
to  cenfure.  He  does  not,  it  is  true,  go  the 
length  of  Voltaire  in  his  treatment  of  Shake- 
fpeare,  who  firft  pillages  and  then  abufes 
him.  The  Frenchman,  indeed,  who  fpoils 
what  he  fteals,  acts  upon  the  old  known 
principle  of  his  country  highwaymen,  who 
always  murder  where  they  rob. 

If  it  be  thought  that  w^e  have  too  warmly 
recommended  Heathen  authors,  let  it  be 
remembered,  that  in  the  hands  of  every  en- 
lightened preceptor,  as  was  eminently  the 
cafe  with  Fenelon,  Pagans  almoft  become 
Chrillian  teachers  by  the  manner  in  which 
they  will  be  explained,  elucidated,  purified  ; 
and  not  only  will  the  corruptions  of  Paga- 
nifm  be  converted  into  inftruclion,  by  being 
contrafled  with  the  oppofite  Chriflian 
graces,  but  the  Chriflian  fyflem.  will  be 
advantageouily  fhewn  to  be  almofl  equally 
at  variance,  with  many  Pagan  virtues,  as 
with  all  its  vices. 

If  there  were  no  other  evidence  of  the 
value  of  Pagan  hiflorians,  the  profound  at- 

h  3  tention 


150  ANCIENT    HISTORIANS. 

teiition  which  they  prove  the  ancients  to 
have  paid  to  the  education  of  youth,  would 
alone  fuffice  to  give  them  confiderable 
weight  in  the  eyes  of  every  judge  of  found 
inflitution.  Their  regard  to  youthful  mo- 
defly,  the  inculcation  of  obedience  and  re- 
fer ve,  the  exercifes  of  felf-denial,  exacted 
from  children  of  the  highefl  rank,  put  to 
Hiame,—  I  will  not  fay  Chriflians,  but  many 
of  the  nominal  profeifors  of  Chriftianity. 
Levity,  idlenefs,  difregard  of  the  laws,  con- 
tempt of  eftabiifhed  fyflems  and  national 
inftitutions,  met  with  a  feverer  reprobation 
in  the  Pagan  youth,  than  is  always  found 
among  thofe,  in  our  day,  who  yet  do  not 
openly  renounce  the  chara6ler  of  Chriflians. 
Far  be  it  from  us,  however,  to  take  our 
morals  from  fo  miferably  defeclive  a  (land- 
ard  as  Pagan  hlftory  afibrds.  For  though 
philofophy  had  given  fome  admirable  rules 
for  maintaining  the  out-works  of  virtue, 
Chrillianity  is  the  only  religion  which  ever 
pretended  to  expel  vice  from  the  heart- 
The  beft  qualities  of  Paganifm  want  the  bed: 
motives.     Some  of  the  overgrown  Roman 

virtues, 


ANCIENT    HISTORIANS,  I5I 

virtues,  alfo^  though  they  would  have  been 
valuable  in  their  juft  meafure  and  degree, 
and  in  a  due  fymmetry  and  proportion  with 
other  virtues,  yet,  by  their  excefs,  helped 
to  produce  thofe  evils  which  afterwards 
ruined  Rome ;  while  a  perfeft  fyflem  of 
morals,  like  the  Chriftian,  would  have  pre- 
vented thofe  evils.  Their  patriotifm  was 
oppreffion  to  the  reft  of  the  world.  Their 
virtue  was  not  fo  much  fullied  by  pride,  as 
founded  in  it ;  and  their  juftice  was  tinftur- 
ed  with  a  favagenefs  which  bears  little  re- 
femblance  to  the  juftice  which  is  taught  by 
Chriftianity. 

Thefe  two  fimple  precepts  of  our  religion^ 
Tbou  Jfjalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  ivith  all  thy 
heart,  and  thy  neighbour  as  thyfelf ; — thefe 
two  principles,  kept  in  due  exercife,  woidd, 
like  the  two  powers  which  govern  the  na- 
tural world,  keep  the  intelleftual  and  fpiri- 
tural  world  in  order ;  would  reftrain.  impeL. 
unite,  and  govern  it. 

In  confidering  the  ancient  philofophy, 
how  does  the  fine  gold  become  dim,  before  the 
fober  luftre  of  that  divine  legiflator,  whofe 

I-  /{.  .kingdom, 


152  ANCIENT    HISTORIANS. 

kingdom,  indeed,  was  not  of  this  world,  but 
who  has  taught  "  kings  of  the  earth,  princes, 
and  all  people,**  thofe  maxims  and  princi- 
ples which  call  into  fhade  all  the  falfe  fplen- 
dours  '^  of  the  antique  world  !"  Chrifti- 
anity  has  furniflicd  the  only  true  praftical 
comment  on  that  grand  pofition  of  the  ad- 
mirable author  of  the  fublime,  that  nothing 
is  great  the  contempt  of  which  is  great.  For 
how  can  triumphs,  honours,  riches,  power, 
conquefl,  fame,  be  confidered  as  of  intrinfic 
value  by  a  Chriftian,  the  very  ejfence  of 
whofe  religion  confifts  in  being  crucified  to 
the  world  ;  the  very  aim  and  end  of  v/hofe 
religion  lies  in  a  fuperiority  to  all  greatnefs 
which  is  to  have  an  end  with  this  life  :  the 
very  nature  and  genius  of  whofe  religion 
tends  to  prove,  that  eternal  life  is  the  only 
adequate  meafure  of  the  happinefs,  and 
immortal  glory  the  only  adequate  objed, 
ot  the  ambition  of  a  Chriftian. 


CHAP. 


ENGLISH  HISTORY.  I33 


CHAP.  XI. 

EngUjh  Hijlory. — Mr.  Hume. 

Ijut  the  royal  pupil  is  not  to  wander 
always  in  the  wide  field  of  univerfal  hif- 
tory.  The  extent  is  fo  vaft,  and  the  time 
for  travelling  over  it  fo  Hiort,  that  after 
being  fufficiently  poffefled  of  that  general 
view  of  mankind  which  the  hiffcory  of  the 
world  exhibits,  it  feems  reafonable  to  con- 
centrate her  fludies,  and  to  diredl  her  at- 
tention to  certain  great  leading  points,  and 
efpecially  to  thofe  objedts  with  which  fhe 
has  a  natural  and  more  immediate  con- 
nexion. The  hiftory  of  modern  Europe 
abounds  with  fuch  objeds.  In  Robertfon's 
luminous  view  of  the  flate  of  Europe,  the 
progrefs  of  fociety  is  traced  with  juft  ar- 
rangement and  philofophical  precifion.  Elis 
admirable  hiftories  of  Charles  V.  and  of 
Mary  Oueen  of  Scots,  feparate  from  their 
great  independent  merits  will  be  read  with 
7  fmgular 


154  MR.  HUME. 

fmgular  advantage  in  connexion  with  the 
contemporary  reigns  of  Englilh  hiflory. 
In  the  writings  of  Sully  and  Clarendon, 
may  be  feen  how,  for  a  long  time,  the  paf- 
fions  of  kings  were  contradicted,  and  often 
controlled  by  the  wifdom  of  their  minifters  ; 
fovereigns  who  were  not  infenfible  to  praife, 
nor  averfe  from  flattery,  yet  fubmitting, 
though  fometimes  with  a  very  ill  grace,  to 
receive  fervices  rather  than  adulation.  Mi- 
nifters  who  confulted  the  good  rather  than 
the  humour  of  their  princes ;  who  promoted 
their  interefls,  inftead  of  gratifying  their 
vices,  and  who  preferred  their  fame  to  their 
favour. 

Mr.  Hume. 

Hume  Is  incomparably  the  moft  inform- 
ing, as  well  as  the  moft  elegant,  of  all  the 
writers  of  Engliili  hiftory.  His  narrative 
is  full,  well  arranged,  and  beautifullly  per- 
fpicuous.  Yet,  he  is  an  author  who  mull 
be  read  with  extreme  caution  on  a  poli- 
tical, but  efpecially  on  a  religious  account. 

Though, 


MR.  HUME,  155 

Though,  on  occafions  where  he  may  be 
trulled,  becaufe  his  peculiar  principles  do 
not  interfere,  his  political  reflections  are 
ufually  juft,  fomeiimes  profound.  His 
account  of  the  origin  of  the  Gothic  go- 
vernment is  full  of  interefl:  and  informa- 
tion. He  marks,  with  exact  precifion,  the 
progrefs  and  decay  of  the  feudal  manners, 
when  law  and  order  began  to  prevail,  and 
our  conftitution  afiumed  fomething  like  a 
fiiape.  His  finely  painted  characters  of 
Alfred  and  Elizabeth  fliould  be  engraved 
on  the  heart  of  every  fovereign.  His  poli- 
tical prejudices  do  not  flrikingly  appear, 
till  the  eilabH{]iment  of  the  houfe  of  Stuart, 
nor  his  religious  antipathies  till  about  the 
diftant  dawn  of  the  reformation  under 
Henry  V.  From  that  period  to  its  full 
eftablilhment,  he  is  perhaps  more  dan- 
gerous, becaufe  lefs  oftenfibly  daring  than 
fome  other  infidel  hiflorians.  It  is  a  fer- 
pent  under  a  bed  of  rofes.  He  does  not 
(in  his  h'ljlory  at  lead)  fo  much  ridicule 
religion  himfelf,  as  invite  others  to  ridicule 

it. 


156  MR.  HUME. 

it.      There  is  in  his  manner  a  fedatenefs 
which  impofes  ;  in  his  fcepticifm,  a  fly  gra- 
vity, which   puts   the  reader  more  off  his 
guard  than  the  vehemence  of  cenfjre,  or 
the  levity  of  wit ;  for  v/e  are  always   lefs 
difpofed  to  fufped   a  man  who  is  too  wife 
to  appear  angry.     That  fame  wifdom  makes 
him     too    correal     to     invent    calumnies, 
but  it  does    not  preferve   him  from  doing 
what    is   fcarcely    lefs    difmgenuous.      He 
implicitly  adopts  the  injurious  relations  of 
thofe  annalifts  who    were  mofl  hoflile   to 
the  reformed  faith  ;  though  he  mufc  have 
known  their  accounts  to  be  aggravated  and 
difcoloured,    if    not    abfolutely   invented. 
He  thus  makes  others  refponfible  for   the 
worft  things  he  aflerts,  and  fpreads  the  mif- 
chief,  without  avowing  the  malignity.  When 
he  fpeaks  from  himfelf,  the  fneer  is  fo  cool, 
the  irony   fo  fober,  the   contempt  fo   dif- 
creet,    the   moderation    fo    infidious,    the 
difference    between     Popifh     bigotry,    and 
Proteftant    firmnefs,  between  the   fury   ot 
the  perfecutor  and   the   refolution  of  the 

martyr, 


MR.  HUME.  157 

martyr,  fo  little  marked ;  the  diftlnftlons 
between  intolerant  phrenzy  and  heroic  zeal 
fo  melted  into  each  other,  and  though  he 
contrives  to  make  the  reader  feel  fome  in- 
dignation at  the  tyrant,  he  never  leads  him 
to  feel  any  reverence  for  the  fufferer;  he 
afcribes  fuch  a  flender  fuperiority  to  one 
religious  fyftem  above  another,  that  the 
young  reader  who  does  not  come  to  the 
perufal  with  his  principles  formed,  will  be 
in  danger  of  thinking  that  the  reforma- 
tion was  really  not  worth  contending  for. 

But,  In  nothing  is  the  (kill  of  this  accom- 
plifhed  fophift  more  apparent  than  in  the  art- 
ful way  in  which  he  piques  his  readers  into  a 
conformity  with  his  ovv^n  views  concerning 
religion.  Human  pride,  he  knew,  naturally 
likes  to  range  itfelf  on  the  fide  of  abihty.  He, 
therefore,  ftilfully  works  on  this  paflion,  by 
treating,  v/ith  a  fort  of  contemptuous  fupe- 
riority, as  weak  and  credulous  men,  ail  whom 
he  reprefents  as  being  under  the  religious  de- 
lufion ;  and  by  uniformly  Infinuating  that 
talents  and  piety  belong  to  oppofite  parties. 

To 


tSB  MR.  HurvtE, 

To  the  fhameful  pradice  of  confounding 
fanaticifm  with  real  religion,  he  adds  the 
difingenuous  habit  of  accounting  for  the 
befl  adions  of  the  beft  men,  by  referring 
them  to  fome  low  motive ;  and  affeds  to 
confound  the  defigns  of  the  religious  and 
the  corrupt,  fo  artfully,  that  no  radical  dif- 
ference appears  to  fubfift  between  them. 

It  is  injurious  to  a  young  mind  to  read 
the  hiftory  of  the  reformation  by  any  au* 
thor,  how  accurate  foever  he  may  be  in  his 
fads,  who  does  not  fee  a  divine  power  ac- 
companying this  great  work ;  by  any  au- 
thor who  afcribes  to  the  power,  or  rather 
to  the  perverfenefs  of  nature,  and  the  obfti- 
nacy  of  innovation,  what  was  in  reality  an 
effeft  of  providential  direction  ;  by  any  who 
difcerns  nothing  but  human  refources,  or 
ftubborn  perfeverance,  where  a  Chriflian 
diftinguifhes,  though  with  a  confiderable 
alloy  of  human  imperfection,  the  operation 
of  the  Spirit  of  God. 

Hume  has  a  fafcinating  manner  at  thg 
clofe  of  the  life  of  a  hero,  a  prince,  or  a 

flatef. 


WR.  HUME.  l^Q 

ilatefinan,  of  drawing  up  his  chara6ler  fo 
elaborately  as  to  attrad;  and  fix  the  whole 
attention  of  the  reader ;  and  he  does  it  in 
fuch  a  way,  that  while  he  engages  the  mind 
he  unfufpedledly  mifleads  it.     He  makes  a 
general  ftatement  of  the  vices  and  virtues, 
the  good  and  bad  aclions  of  the  perfon  whom 
he  paints,  leaving  the  reader  to  form  his  own 
conclufions,  by  cafting  up  the  balance  of  the 
vices  and  virtues,  of  the  good  and  bad  adions 
thus  enumerated :  while  he  never  once  leads 
the   reader  to  determine  on  the  character 
by  the  only  fure  criterion,  the  ruling  prin- 
ciple^ which  feemed  to  govern  it. — This  is  the 
too  prevailing  method  of   hiflorians ;  they 
make    morals    completely  independent   of 
religion,    by  thus   vv^eighing   qualides,    and 
letting  the  preponderance  of  the  fcale  de- 
cide  on  virtue,  as  it  were  by  grains  and 
fcruples :    thus   furnifhing    a    ftandard  of 
virtue  fubverfive  of  that  which  Chriftianitv 
eflablifhes.     This  method,  infcead  of  mark- 
ing the  moral  diflinftions,  blends  and  con- 
founds them,  by  eftablifliing  character  on 

an 


l6o  MR.  HUME. 

an  accidental  difference,  often  depending 
on  circumilance  and  occafion,  inftea^  of 
applying  to  it  one  eternal  rule  and  motive 
of  adion  *. 

But,  there  is  another  evil  into  which 
writers  far  more  unexceptionable  than  Mr. 
Hume  often  fall,  that  of  rarely  leading  the 
mind  to  look  beyond  fecond  caufes  and 
human  agents.  It  is  mortifying  to  refer 
them  to  the  example  of  a  pagan.  Livy 
thought  it  no  difgrace  to  proclaim,  repeat- 
edly, the  infufficiency  of  man  to  accom- 
plifh  great  objeds  without  divine  affiilance. 
He  was  not  afnamed  to  refer  events  to  the 
direftion  and  control  of  providence  ;  and 
when  he  fpeaks  of  notorious  criminals^  he 

*  If  thefe  remarks  mav  be  thought  too  fevere  by 
feme  readers  for  that  degree  of  fcepticifm  which  ap- 
pears in  Mr.  Hume's  kijlory,  may  I  not  be  allowed 
to  obferve  that  he  has  faewn  his  principles  fo  fully, 
in  fome  of  his  other  works,  that  we  are  entitled,  oa 
tke  ground  of  thefe  works,  to  read  with  fufpicion 
every  thing  he  fays  which  borders  on  religion? — A 
circumftance  apt  to  be  forgotten  by  many  who  read 
on!^  his  hiftory, 

is 


MR.    HUME.  iSl 

IS  not  contented  with  defcribing  them  as 
tranfgrefTing  againft  the  ftate,  but  reprefents 
them  as  alfo  offending  againft  the  gods. 

Yet,  it  is  proper  again  to  notice  the  de- 
fers ©f  ancient  authors  in  their  views  of 
providential  interference;  a  defeft  arifmg 
from  their  never  clearly  including  a  future 
ftate  in  their  account.  They  feem  to  have 
conceived  themfelves  as  fairly  e?ifit/ed  by 
their  good  condud  to  the  divine  favour, 
which  favour  they  ufually  limited  to  prefent 
profperity.  Whereas  all  notions  of  divine 
juftice  muft  of  neceffity  be  widely  erroneous, 
in  which  a  future  retribution  is  not  unambi- 
guoufly  and  conftantly  included. 


VOL.  I.  M  CHAP. 


l62  ENGLISH    HISTORY. 


CHAP.    XII. 

Important  JEras  of  Englijh  Hijlorf. 

-r\s  the  annals  of  our  own  country  furnilh 
an  obje£l  on  which  a  royal  fludent  fliould 
be  led  to  dwell  with  particular  interefl,  it 
may  be  necelTary  to  call  the  attention  to 
certain  important  periods  of  our  hiftory  and 
conllitution,  from  each  of  which  we  begin 
to  reckon  a  new  sera ;  beczfufe,  from  that 
epoch,  fome  new  fyftem  of  caufes  and  effects 
begins  to  take  place. 

It  will  be  proper,  however,  to  trace  the 
ihades  of  alteration  which  intervene  be- 
tween thefe  seras ;  for,  though  the  national 
changes  appear  to  be  brought  about  by 
fome  one  great  event,  yet,  the  event  itfelf 
will  be  found  to  have  been  flowly  working 
its  way  by  caufes  trivial  in  their  appearance, 
and  gradual  in  their  progrefs.  For  the 
minds  of  the  people   mull  be   previoufly 

ripened 


ENGLISH    HISTORY,  l6^ 

ripened  for  a  change,  before  any  material 
alteration  is  produced. — It  was  not  the  in- 
jury that  Lucretia  fuftained,  which  kindled 
the  refentment  of  the  Romans ;  the  previ- 
ous mifconduft  of  the  Tarquins  had  excited 
in  the  people  the  fpirit  oP*that  revolu- 
tion. A  momentary  indignation  brought 
a  feries  of  difcontents  to  a  crifis,  and  one 
public  crime  was  feized  on  as  th2  pretence 
for  revenging  a  long  courfe  of  opprtflion.— 
The  arrival,  however,  of  thefe  flowly  pro- 
duced 2eras  makes  a  fudden  and  flriking 
change  in  the  circumftances  of  a  country, 
and  forms  a  kind  of  didinct  line  of  repara- 
tion between  the  manners  which  precede  and 
thofe  which  follow  it. 

A  prince  (whofe  chief  iludy  mufi:  be 
politics)  ought  in  general  to  prefer  contem- 
porary hillorians,  and  even  ordinary  anna- 
liils,  to  the  compilers  of  hiftory  who  come 
after  them.  He  Ihould  have  recourfe  to  the 
documents  from  which  authors  derive  their 
hiftory,  rather  than  fit  down  fatisfied  with 
the  hillory  fo  derived.     Lxie,  however,  is 

M  2  too 


164  INGLISH    HISTORY. 

too  lliort  to  allow,  in  all  cafes,  of  this  labo- 
rious procefs.  Attention,  therefore,  to  the 
minuter  detaife  of  contemporary  annalifts, 
and  to  the  original  records  confiding  of 
letters  and  flate  papers,  muft  be  limited  to 
periods  of  more  than  ordinary  importance* 
Into  thefe  the  attentive  politician  will  dive 
for  himfelf,  and  he  will  often  be  abundantly 
repaid. — The  periods,  for  example,  of  the 
unhappy  conteils  in  the  reign  of  the  lirft 
Charles,  of  the  reftoration,  and  more 
efpecially  of  the  revolution,  are  the  turning 
points  of  our  political  conftitution.  A 
prince,  by  examining  thefe  original  docu- 
ments, and  by  making  himfelf  mafter  of 
the  points  then  at  ifiue,  would  be  fure  to 
underfland  what  are  his  own  rights  as  a 
fovereign. 

It  is  not  by  fingle,  but  by  concurrent 
teftimony,  that  the  truth  of  hiflory  is 
eftabliflied.  And  it  is  by  a  careful  pe- 
rufal  of  different  authors  who  treat  of 
the  fame  period,  that  a  feries  of  hiftoric 
truth  will  be  extraded.     Where  they  agree, 

we 


ENGLISH   HISTORY.  165 

we  may  trufl:  that  they  are  right;  where 
they  differ  we  mufl  elicit  truth  from  the 
collifion.  Thus  the  royal  pupil,  when  en- 
gaged in  the  perufal  of  Clarendon,  fliould 
alfo  ftudy  fome  of  the  beft  writers,  who  are 
favourable  to  the  parliamentary  caufe.  A 
careful  perufal  of  Ludlow  and  Whitlock ; 
a  general  furvey  of  Rufhworth,  or  occa- 
fional  reference  to  that  author  and  to  Thur- 
loe  ;  and  a  curfory  review  of  their  own  lives 
and  t'unes  hf  Laud  and  Baxter,  will  throw 
great  light  on  many  of  the  tranfaftions  of  the 
eventful  period  of  the  firfl  Charles.  They 
will  fhew  how  different  the  fame  adions  ap- 
pear to  different  men,  equal  in  underftand- 
ing  and  integrity. — They  will  inforce  mu- 
tual candour  and  mutual  forbearance,  re- 
preffing  the  wholefale  conclufions  of  party 
violence,  and  teaching  a  prince  to  be  on  his 
guard  againfl  the  intemperate  counfels  of 
his  interefled  or  heated  advifers.  They  will 
inflrua  a  monarch  in  the  important  leffon 
of  endeavouring  to  afcertain  and  keep  in 
view  the  light  in  which  his  aftions  and 
motives  will  appear  to  his  people.     They 

M  3  will 


l66  ENGMSH    HISTORY. 

will  teach  him  to  attend  carefully  to  the 
opinions  and  feelings,  and  even  to  the  pre- 
judices of  the  'times ;  and,  in  obedience  to 
a  precept  enjoined  by  divine  authority  for 
private  life,  and  ftiil  more  important  to  be 
obferved  in  public, — "  to  provide  things 
honeft  in  the  fight  of  all  men.'* 

Again,  while  the  narratives  of  the  con- 
temporary hiHorians  furnilh  fads,  they 
who  live  in  a  fucceeding  age  have-  the  ad- 
ditional advantages,  fir(l,  of  a  chance  of 
greater  impartiality  ;  fecondly,  of  a  com- 
parifon  with  correfponding  events ;  and 
thirdly,  of  having  the  tendencies  of  the 
events  related,  appreciated  by  the  evidence 
of  their  adual  effects.  How  imperfcd,  for 
example,  would  be  the  philofcphical  and 
political  remarks,  and  how  falfe  the  whole 
colour  belonging  to  any  hiilory  of  the 
French  revolution  which  might  have  im- 
mediately appeared  *.     Much  lapfe  of  time 

*  The  French  revohition,  with  its  confeqiiences, 
feem  intended  practically  to  contradict  what  Thiicy- 
dides  declared  to  be  his  defign  in  writing  hiflory ; 
nanr.eiy,  by  a  faithful  account  of  pajl  things  to  ojfijl  ntan- 
i'md  in  conjeHuring  the  future  ! 


IS 


ENGLISH    HISTORY.  167 

is  necelTary  in  order  to  reflect  back  light 
on  the  original  tendency  of  events.  The 
fermentation  of  political  paffions  requires  a 
long  time  to  fubiide.  The  agitation  con- 
tinues till  the  events  have  nearly  loft  their  in- 
tereft,  by  the  occurrence  of  a  frefli  clafs  of 
events ;  which,  in  their  turn,  raife  a  new 
party,  and  excite  a  new  intereft ;  fo  that  an 
impartial  diftribution  of  praife  and  cenfure  is 
feldom  made  till  thofe  who  are  concerned 
in  it  have  been  long  out  of  hearing.  And 
it  is  an  inconvenience  infeparable  from  hu- 
man things,  that  when  writers  are  leaft  able 
to  come  at  the  truth,  they  are  moft  difpofed 
to  tell  it. 

It  will  be  necelTary  to  underftand  the 
political  fyftem  of  Europe,  fmce  that  pe- 
riod particularly,  when  the  two  powers 
of  I'ralice  and  Auftria  having  arifen  to  a 
greatnefs,  which  made  them  mutually,  as 
well  as  generally  formidable,  other  coun- 
tries, feeing  the  neceliity  for  their  own 
fafety,  of  oppofing  the  ftronger,  and  fup- 
porting  the  weaker,  conceived  the  idea  of 

M  4  that 


l68  ENGLISH    HISTORY. 

that  balance  of  power,  that  juft  equipon- 
derance,  which  might  preferve  the  fecurity 
of  all. 

But    there    is    a    far    earlier  epoch    to 
which  attention  ought  perhaps,  in  the  very 
firfl  inflance,  to  be  direded,  I  mean  the 
reign  of  Alfred.     This  is  eminently  a  fludy 
for  kings.  —  In  Alfred,  the  mofh  vigorous 
exertion  of  public  juflice  was  united  with 
attachment  to  public  liberty.     He  eagerly 
feized  every  interval  of  tranquillity,  from 
the  convulfions  with  which  the  ftate  was 
torn,    to   colled:    materials    for   the   moll 
falutary  inftitutions,    which   he  afterwards 
eftablilhed ;    he    employed    every   moment 
he  could  fnatch  from   the  wars  in  which 
he  was  inevitably  engaged,  in  introducing 
the   arts   of    peace,    and    in   turning   the 
minds  of  his  hai  alfed  and  diforderly  fubjects 
to  virtuous   and    induftrious   purfuits ;    in 
repairing  the  mifchievous  confequences  of 
pafl    infurredions,    and    wifely    guarding 
againft  their  return.      He  had  to  corre6t 
the    habits   of   a  people    who  had  lived 

with- 


ENGLISH    HISTORY,  l6^ 

without  laws,  and  without  morals;  and 
to  reduce  to  civilization  men  who  had 
been  driven  to  fubfift  by  chance  or  ra- 
pine.— By  a  fyftem  of  jurifprudence,  which 
united  moral  difcipline  with  the  execu- 
tion of  penal  laws,  he  undertook  to  give 
a  new  direction  to  habits  inveterately  de- 
praved. 

The  royal  pupil  will  be  taught  to  afcribe 
the  origin  of  fome  of  our  befl  ufages  to 
thefe  fagacious  regulations  j  above  all,  the 
conception  of  that  unparalleled  idea  which 
fo  beautifully  reconciles  the  exaft  admi- 
niftration  of  juftice  with  individual  liberty: 
the  origin  of  our  juries  evidently  appearing 
to  have  firft;  entered  the  mind  of  Alfred. 
The  effects  on  the  people  feem  to  have 
been  proportioned  to  the  exertions  of  the 
Prince.  Crimes  were  repreffed.  The  m-ofl 
unexampled  change  took  place  in  the 
national  manners.  Encouragement  was 
held  out  to  the  reformed,  while  punifhment 
kept  in  order  the  more  irreclaimable. 
Yet,  with  all  thefe  flrong  meafures,  never 

was 


170  ENGLISH    HISTORY. 

was  prince  more  tenderly  alwe  to  the 
liberty  of  trie  fubject.  And  while  com- 
merce, navigation,  ingenious  inventions, 
and  all  the  peaceful  arts  v/ere  promoted  by 
him,  his  fkill  in  the  military  tactics  of  that 
day  was  fuperior,  perhaps,  to  that  of  an-y  of 
his  contemporaries. 

To  form,  fuch  vail  projeds,  not  for  dif- 
turbing   the  world,  but  for  bleffing  it,  — 
to  reduce  thofe  projeQis,  in  many  inftances, 
to   the  mod   minute   detail  of   adual  exe- 
cution ;  to  have  furmounted  the  misfortune 
of  a  neglected   education  fo    as  to   make 
himfelf  a  fcholar,  a   philofopher,  and   the 
moral  as  well  as  civil  inftrudor  of  his  peo* 
pie ;— all  this  implies  fuch  a  grandeur  of 
capacity,  fuch  an  exad:  conception  of  the 
true  character   of  a  fbvereign,  fuch  fubli- 
mity  of  principle,  and  fuch  correfponding 
rectitude   of   pra6tice,    as  fill    up    all    our 
ideas  of  confummate  greatnefs. — In  a  word, 
Alfred  feems  to  havebeen  fent  into  the  world 
to  realize  the  beautiful  fidtion,  which  poets, 
philofophers,    and    patriots,    have   formed 

ef 


ENGLISH    HISTORY.  IJl 

of  a  perfeft  king.  It  is  alfo  worth  obferv- 
ing,  that  all  thofe  various  plans  were  both 
projedled  and  executed  by  a  monarch  who, 
as  all  hiilorians  agree,  had  fuffercd  more 
hard  (hips  than  aiiy  ordinary  adventurer, 
had  fou;:!:ht  more  battles  than  mod  o-enc- 
rals,  and  was  the  moP:  voluminous  author 
of  his  day  *.  And,  if  it  fhouid  be  aficed 
by  what  means  a  fingle  individual  could 
accompUfn  fuch  a  variety  of  projects,  the 
anfwer  is  fimply  this  :  It  was  in  a  good 
meafure  by  an  art  of  which  little  account 
is  m.ade,  bat  which  is  perhaps  of  more  im- 
portance in  a  fovereign  than  almofh  any 
other,  at  lead:  it  is  one  without  which  the 
brightefl:  genius  is  often  of  little  value,  a 
Jlrid  cdconomy  of  time. 

Between  the  earlier  life  of  Alfred  and 
that  of  Charles  II.  there  was,  as  muft  be 
obferved,  a  fhriking  fimilarity.  The  paths 
of  both  to  the  throne  were  equally  marked 

*  See  the  charafter  of  Alfred  in  Hume,  from 
which  the  preceding  part  of  this  account,  in  fub- 
ftancc,  is  chiefly  taken. 

by 


173  ENGLISH    HISTORY. 

by  fuch  Imminent  dangers  and  "  hair- 
breadth 'fcapes/*  as  more  refemble  ro- 
mance than  authentic  hiftory.  What  a 
leflbn  had  Alfred  prepared  for  Charles ! 
But  their  charaders  as  kings,  exhibited 
an  oppofition  which  is  as  flrong  as  the  re- 
femblance  in  their  previous  fortunes.  With 
an  underftanding  naturally  good,  with  that 
education  which  Alfred  wanted,  —  with 
every  advantage  which  an  improved  flate 
of  fociety  could  give  over  a  barbarous  one  ; 
fuch,  notwithflanding,  was  the  uniform 
tenor  of  the  Stuart*s  fubfequent  hfe,  as 
almofl  to  prefent  the  idea  of  an  intended 
contrail  to  the  virtues  of  the  illuflrious 
Saxon. 

Another  epoch  to  which  the  pupil's  at- 
tention fhould  be  pointed,  is  the  turbulent 
and  iniquitous  reign  of  King  John  ;  whofe 
oppreffion  and  injuflice  were,  by  the  excefs 
to  which  they  were  carried,  the  providen- 
tial means  of  roufmg  the  Englifh  fpirit, 
and  of  obtaining  the  eftablifhment  of  the 
great  charter.     This  famous  tranfaftion,  fo 

defervedly 


INCLISH   HISTORY.  1 73 

defervedly  interefting  to  Englifhmen,  be- 
ftoweci  or  fecured  the  mod  valuable  civil 
privileges  ;  chiefly  indeed  to  the  barons  and 
clergy,  but  alfo  to  the  people  at  large.  The 
privileges  of  the  latter  had,  antecedently, 
been  fcarcely  taken  into  the  account,  and 
their  liberties,  always  imperfect,  had  fuf- 
fered  much  infringement  by  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  feudal  law  into  England  under 
the  Norman  William.  For,  whether  they 
were  vaiTals  under  the  Barons,  or  vaiTals 
under  the  King  it  made  little  difference 
in  their  condition ;  which  was,  in  fad,  to 
the  greater  part,  little  better  than  a  ftate 
of  abfolute  flavery.  The  barons,  liberal, 
perhaps,  through  policy  rather  than  huma- 
nity, in  ftruggling  for  their  own  liberty, 
were  compelled  to  involve  in  one  common 
intereft,  the  liberty  of  the  people ;  and  the 
fame  laws  which  they  demanded  to  fecure 
their  own  proteftion,  in  fome  meafure 
neceflarily  extended  their  benign  influence 
to  the  inferior  claflTes  of  fccicty.  Thofe 
immunities,  which  are  elTential  to  the  well- 
14  being 


274  ENGLISH    HISTORY. 

being   of  civil    and   focial   life,    gradually 
became  better  fecured.     Injuftice  was  re- 
flraincdj  tyrannical  exaclions  were  guarded 
againft,    and    oppreiiioh    was    no    loneer 
fanctioned.       This   famous   deed,    \vithout 
any  violent  innovation,  became  the  mound 
of  property,  the  pledge  of  liberty,  and  the 
guarantee  of  independence.     As  it  guarded 
the  rights  of  all  orders  of  men,  from  the 
iowefl  to    the   highcil,    it    was   vigoroufiy 
contended  for  by  all ;   for,  if  it  limited  the 
power  of  the  King,  it  alio  confirmed  it,  by 
fecuring  the  allegiance  and  fidelity  of  the 
fubjecl:. — It  v^-as  of  incilimable  ufe  by  giv- 
ing a  detei-minate  form  and  fhape,  "  fuch 
a   local    habitation   and   a   name,"    to    the 
fpirit  of  liberty  ;  fo  that  the  Englifh,  when, 
as  it  often  happened,  they  claimed  the  re- 
co^rnition   of   their   len^al  risfhts,    were  not 
left    to  wander   in    a   wide  field,    without 
having  any  fpecific  object,  without  limitation, 
and  without   direction.      They  kneiv  what 
to  a^c  for,  and,  obtaining  that,  they  were 
fatisfied.     We  furely  cannot  but  be  fenfible 
5  of 


ENGLISH    HISTORY.  IJ $ 

of  the  advantages  which  they  derived  from 
this  circuraftance,  who  have  feen  the  eiFedts 
of  an  oppofite  fituation,  m  this  very  |>arl:icu- 
br,  illuflrated  fo  flrikingly  in  the  earlier 
period  of  the  French  revolution. 

But,  rapidity  of  progrefs  feems,  by  the 
very  laws  of  tiaturc,  to  be  precluded,  where 
the  benefit  is  to  be  radical  and  permanent. 
It  was  not^  therefore,  until  our  pafiion  for 
making  war  within  the  territory  of  France 
was  cured,  nor  until  v/e  left  off  tearing  the 
bowels  of  our  own  country  in  the  dilfen- 
fions   of    the    Ycrkifls    and    LancaftrianSj 
after  having,  for  near  four  hundred  years, 
torn  thofe  of  our  neighbours  ;  in  a  word, 
it  was  not  until  both  foreign  and  civil  fury 
began  to  cool,  that  in  the  reign  of  Henry 
VII.  the  people  began  to  enjoy  more  real 
freedom,  as  the  King  enjoyed  a  more  fettled 
dominion,   and  the  interefts  of  peace  and 
commerce   fubftantialiy  prevailed. — With- 
out afcribing  to  this  king  virtues  which  he 
did  not  pofiefs,  the  view  of  his  reign,  with 
all  its  faults,  affords  a  kind  of  breathing 

time^ 


iy6  ENGLISH   HISTORY. 

time,  and  fenfe  of  repofe.  It  is  from  this 
reign  that  the  hiftory  of  the  laws,  and  civil 
conftitution  of  England  become  interefling; 
as  that  of  our  ecclefiaftical  conftitution  does 
from  the  fubfequent  reign.  A  general  ac- 
quaintance with  the  antecedent  part  of  our 
hiftory  may  fuffice  for  the  royal  pupil,  but 
from  thefe  periods  fhe  cannot  polTefs  too  de- 
tailed  a  knowledge  of  it. 


CHAP. 


^U£EN    ELIZABETH*  I// 

CUAF,    XIII. 

Oueen  Elizabethc 

It  is  remarkable  that  in  France,  a  nation 
in  which  women  have  always  been  held  in 
the  higheil  confideration,  their  genius  has 
never  been  called  to, its  loftieft  exercife. 
France  is  perhaps  the  only  comitry  which 
has  never  been  governed  by  a  woman.  The 
mothers,  however,  of  fome  of  her  fovereigns, 
when  minors,  have,  during  their  regencies, 
Blanche  of  Caftile  *  efpecially,  difcovered 
talents  for  government  not  inferior  to  thofe 
of  mod  of  her  kings. 

Anne  of  Auftria  has  had  her  eulogifts  ; 
but  in  her  character  there  feems  to  have 
been  more  of  intrigue  than  of  genius,  or  at 
lead,  than  of  found  fenfe  ;  and  her  virtues 
were  problematical.  If  her  talents  had  fome 
fplendor,  they  had  no  folidity.  They  pro- 
duced a  kind  of  ftage  effecl,  which  was  im- 
pofmg,  but  not  efficient ;  and  fhe  was  rather 

•  Mother  of  Louis  IX. 

VOL.  I.  N  an 


jyS  QUEEN    ELIZABETH. 

an  adrefs  of  royalty  than  a  great  queen. 
She  was  not  happy  in  the  choice  of  a  friend. 
The  fource  of  all  Mazarin's  greatnefs,  fhe 
fupported  him  with  inflexible  attachment, 
and  eflabliflied  him  in  more  than  regal 
power.  In  return,  he  treated  her  with  re- 
fped  as  long  as  he  flood  in  need  of  her  pro- 
tedion,  and  fet  her  afide  when  her  fupport 
was  become  no  longer  neceffary  to  his  con- 
firmed power. 

The  bed  queens  have  been  moft  re- 
markable for  employing  great  men. 
Among  thefe,  Zenobia,  Elizabeth,  and 
Anne  fland  foremofl.  Thofe  who  wilh  to 
derogate  from  the  glories  of  a  female  reign, 
have  never  failed  to  urge,  that  they  were 
owing  to  the  wifdom  of  the  minillers,  and 
not  to  that  of  the  queen  j  a  cenfure  which 
involves  an  eulogium.  For,  is  not  the 
choice  of  fagacious  miniflers  the  charac- 
teriilic  mark  of  a  fagacious  fovereign  ? — 
Would;,  for  inftance,  Mary  di  Medici  have 
chofen  a  Walfmgham ;  fhe  who  made  it 
one  of  the  firll  ads  of  her  regency  to 
banifh  Sully,  and  to  employ  Contini  ?  Or, 

L-9  did 


QUEEN    ELIZABETH.  179 

did  it  ever  enter  into  the  mind  of  the  firfl 
Mary  of  England  to  take  into  her  councils 
that  Cecil,  who  fo  much  diflinguifhed  him- 
felf  in  the  cabinet  of  her  fifter  ? 

Elizabeth's  great  natural  capacity  was, 
as  has  been  before  obferved,  improved  by 
an  excellent  education.  Her  native  vigour 
of  mind  had  been  early  called  forth  by  a 
feries  of  uncommon  trials.  The  circum- 
fpedion  fhe  had  been,  from  childhood, 
obliged  to  exercife,  taught  her  prudence. 
The  difficulties  which  befet  her,  accuftomed 
her  to  felf-control.  Can  we,  therefore, 
doubt  that  the  fteadinefs  of  purpofe,  and 
undaunted  refolution  which  fhe  manifefted 
on  almoft  every  occafion  during  her  long 
reign,  were  greatly  to  be  attributed  to 
that  youthful  difcipline  ?  She  would  pro- 
bably never  have  acquired  fuch  an  afcend- 
ency  over  the  mind  of  others,  had  fhe  not 
early  learned  fo  abfolute  a  command  over 
her  own. 

On  coming  to  the  crown,  (he  found 
herfelf  furrounded  with  thofe  obflacles 
which  difplay  great  characters,  but  overfet 

N  2  ordinary 


I  So  QUEEN    ELIZABETH-. 

ordinary  minds.  The  vnfc  work  of  the 
reformation,  which  had  been  undertaken  by 
her  brother  Edward,  but  cruflied  in  the 
very  birth,  as  far  as  was  within  human 
power,  by  tlui  bigot  Mary,  was  refumed 
and  accomphflied  by  Elizabeth  ;  and  that, 
not  in  the  cahn  of  fecurity,  not  in  the 
fulnefs  of  undifputed  power,  but  even 
while  that  power  was  far  from  being  con- 
firmed, and  that  fecurity  was  habie,  every 
moment,  to  be  fhaken  by  the  mofl  alarming 
commotions.  She  had  prejudices,  appa- 
rently infurmountahle,  to  overcome ;  Ihe  had 
heavy  debts  to  difcharge  ;  fhe  had  an  almoft 
ruined  navy  to  repair ;  flie  had  a  debafed 
coin  to  reftore  ;  fhe  had  empty  magazines 
to  fill  ;  Die  had  a  decaying  commerce  to 
invigorate ;  fhe  had  an  exhauftrd  exchequer 
.to  replenilli. — All  thefe,  by  the  bleflmg  of 
God  on  the  ftrength  of  her  mind,  and  the 
wifdom  of  her  councils,  (he  accomplifhed. 
She  not  only  paid  her  own  debts,  but,  withr 
out  any  great  additional  burdens  on  her  fub- 
jefts,  fhe  difcharged  thofe  alfo  which  were 
due  to  tJ^e  people  from  her  two  immediate 
^ri_-:o  predecef- 


QUEEN    ELIZABETH.  l8x 

predecefTors.  At  the  fame  timej  flie  foftered 
genius,  flis  encouraged  llteraturej  flie  attrdft- 
ed  all  the  great  talents  of  the  age  within  the 
fphere  of  her  own  activity.  And,  though 
fhe  conftantly  availed  herfelf  of  all  the  judg- 
-  ment  and  talents  of  her  miniff-ers,  her  ac- 
quiefcence  in  their  measures  was  that  of 
conviftion,  never  of  imphcit  confidence. 

Her  exact  frugality  may  not,  by  fuper- 
ficial  judges,  be  reckoned  among  the  fhining 
parts  of  her  character.  Yet,  thofe  who  fee 
more  deeply,  mull  allow,  that  it  was  a 
quality  from  which  the  mod  important 
banefits  were  derived  to  her  people ;  and 
without  which,  all  her  great  abilities  would 
have  been  comparatively  inefficient.  The 
parfimony  of  her  grandfather  was  the 
rapine  and  exaction  of  an  extortioner  > 
hers,  the  wife  ceconomy  of  a  provident 
parent.  If  we  are  to  judge  of  the  value  of 
actions  by  their  confequences,  let  us  com- 
pare the  eftedts  upon  the  country,  of  the 
prodigality,  both  of  her  father,  and  of 
her  fucceilor,  with  her  own  frugality.     As 

M  3  it 


iSa  QITEEN    ELIZABETH. 

it  has  been  aflerted  by  Plutarch*,  that 
the  money  idly  thrown  away  by  the 
Athenians  on  the  reprefentations  of  two 
dramatic  poets  only,  amounted  to  a  larger 
fum  than  had  been  expended  on  all  then- 
wars  againfl  the  Terfians,  in  defence  of 
their  liberty;  fo  it  has  been  affirmed, 
that  the  iirfl  James  fpent  more  treafure 
on  his  favourites,  than  it  had  coil  Elizabeth 
to  maintain  all  her  wars.  Yet,  there 
have  not  been  wanting  hiftorians,  who 
have  given  the  praife  of  liberality  to  James, 
and  efpecially  to  Henry,  while  Elizabeth 
has  fuffered  the  imputation  of  avarice. 
But  we  ought  to  judge  of  good  and  evil, 
by  their  own  weight  and  meafure,  and 
not  by  the  fpecious  names  which  the 
latter  can  aflume,  nor  by  the  injurious 
terms  which  may  be  beftowed  on  the 
former. 

It   is   not   from   the    fplenetic  critic   in 
retired  life,  from  the  declaimer,    ignorant 

*  In  his  enquiry  whether  the  Athenians  were  more 
eminent  in  the  arts  of  war  or  peace, 

of 


gUEEN    ELIZABETH.  I  g^ 

of  the  duties  and  the  requifitions  of  princes, 
that  we  fliould  take  our  fentiments  on  the 
point  of  royal  ceconomy ;   but  from  men, 
who,  however  poflefling  different  characters 
and  views,  yet  agree  in  this  one  refpeft, 
that    their    exalted    public  fituations,    and 
great  perfonal  experience,  enable  them  to 
give  a  fair  and  found  opinion.     The  judg- 
ment even  of  the  Emperor  Tiberius  was  not 
fo  impaired  by  his  vices,  but  that  he  could 
infift,  that  an  exchequer,  exhaufted  by  pro- 
digality, muft  be  replenilhed  by  oppreflion. 
Cicero,  verfed  in  public  bufmefs,  no  lefs  than 
in  the  knowledge  of  mankind,  affirms,  that 
"  a  liberal  prince  lofes  more   hearts   than 
he  gains,  and  that  the  refentment  of  thofe 
from  whom  he  takes  the  money,  is  much 
flronger   that   the    gratitude   of   thofe    to 
whom  he   gives  it.*'       And,  on   another 
occafion  he  fays,  that  "  men  are  not  aware 
what  a  rich  treafury  frugality  is."  The  fame 
fentiments  feem  to  have  been  adopted  by 
another  Roman  ftatefman,  a  royal  favourite 
too,     Pliny   affirms,  that  **  a   prince  will 

N  4  be 


l84  QUEEN    ELIZABETH. 

be  pardoned,  who  gives  nothing  to  his  fub- 
je6ts,  provided  he  takes  nothing  away  from 
them.'- 

Thofe  princes,  who,  defpifmg  frugality, 
have  been  prodigal  for  the  fake  of  a  Httle 
temporary  applaufe,  have  feldom  achieved 
lafling  good.  And,  allowing  that  this 
iavifh  generofity  may  be  for  the  moment  a 
popular  quality  j  yet,  there  is  fcarcely  any 
thing  which  has  contributed  to  bring  more 
calamities  on  a  ftate,  than  the  means  ufed  for 
enabhng  the  prince  to  indulge  it.  It  was  not 
in  Rome  alone,  as  recent  inflances  teftify, 
that  when  the  government  has  wanted 
money,  the  rich  have  been  always  found 
to  be  the  guilty.  A  prodigal  generofity,  as 
we  have  feen  in  the  cafe  of  Csefar,  and  in 
our  own  time,  may  be  a  ufeful  inflrument 
for  paving  the  way  to  a  throne  ;  but  an 
eftablifhed  fovereign  will  find  oeconomy  ^ 
more  certain  means  of  keeping  him  in  it. 
The  Emperor  Nero  was  extolled  for  the 
felicity  which  he  was  diffufvng  by  his 
bounty,  while  Rome  was  groaning  under 

th^ 


OUEEN    ELIZABETH.  185 

ihe  burthen  of  his  exactions.  That  libe- 
rality which  would  make  a  prince  neceili- 
tous,  and  a  people  poor,  would,  by  hurting 
his  fame,  weaken  his  influence ;  for  repu- 
tation is  power.  After  all,  fuch  a  care  and 
improvemient  of  the  revenue,  as  will  enable 
him  to  fpare  his  fubjecls,  is  the  truefl  libe- 
rality in  a  prince. 

But,  to  return. — The  diftinguifhing  qua- 
lities of  Elizabeth  appear  to  have  been 
oeconomy,  prudence,  and  moderation.  Yet 
in  fomc  inftances,  the  former  was  rigid, 
not  to  fay  unjull*.  Nor  had  her  frugality 
always  the  pureft  motive.  She  was,  it  is 
true,  very  unwilling  to  trouble  parliament 
for  money,  for  which,  indeed,  they  were  ex- 
tremely unwilling  to  be  troubled ;  but  her 
defire  to  keep  herfelf  independent  of  them 
feems  to  have  been  the  motive  for  this  for- 
bearance. What  fhe  might  have  gained  in 
fupplies  (lie  muft  have  loft  in  power. 

To  her  moderation  and  that  middle  line 

♦  Particularly  her  kf  eping  the  fee  of  Ely  vacant 
nineteen  years,  in  order  to  retain  the  revenue. 

of 


1 86  QUEEN    ELIZABETH. 

of  conduct  which  ftie  obfcrved,  much  of 
her  fuccefs  may  be  afcribed.  To  her  mo- 
deration in  the  contefts  between  paplfts  and 
puritans,  it  is  chiefly  to  be  attributed,  that 
the  reformation  iflfued  in  a  happier  medium 
in  England,  than  in  any  other  country.  — 
To  her  moderation,  in  refpe6:  to  foreign 
war,  from  which  fiie  was  fmgularly  averfe, 
may  be  afcribed  that  rapid  improvement  at 
home,  which  took  place  under  her  reign.-r- 
If  we  were  to  eflimate  Elizabeth  as  a  private 
female,  fhe  would  doubtlefs  appear  entitled 
to  but  little  veneration.  If  as  an  inftrument 
raifed  up  by  divine  Providence  to  carry 
through  the  moft  arduous  enterprifes  in  the 
moft  difficult  emergencies,  we  can  hardly 
rate  her  too  highly.  We  owe  her  much  as 
Englifhmen.  As  Proteftants,  what  do  we 
not  owe  her  ?  If  we  look  9.t  the  woman,  we 
{hall  fee  much  to  blame  ;  if  at  the  fovereign, 
we  fhall  fee  almofl  every  thing  to  admire. 
Her  great  faults,  though  they  derogated 
from  her  perfonal  character,  feldom  deeply 
affeded  her  adminiflration.       In    one  in^ 

itance 


QUEEN    ELIZABETH.  187 

ftance  only,  her  favourltlfm  was  prejudicial 
to  the  {late  ;  her  appointment  of  Leicefter 
to  the  naval  command,  for  which  he  was 
utterly  unfit.  —  On  many  occafions,  as  we 
have  elfe where  obferved,  her  very  paffions 
fupplied  what  was  wanting  in  principle. 
Thus,  her  violent  attachments  m.ight  have 
made  her  indifcriminately  lavifh,  if  they 
had  not  been  counteracted  by  that  parfimo- 
nioufnefs  which  never  forfook  her.  Ac- 
cordingly, in  the  midft  of  her  lamentations 
for  the  death  of  Leicefter,  we  fee  her  grief 
did  not  make  her  forget  to  feize  his  goods, 
and  to  repay  herfelf  for  what  fhe  had  lent 
him. 

Our  cenfures,  therefore,  muft  not  be  loft 
in  our  admiration,  nor  muft  our  gratitude 
warp  our  judgment.  And  it  may  be  ufeful 
to  inquire  how  it  came  to  pafs  that  Eliza- 
beth, with  fo  much  power,  fo  much  pru- 
dence, and  fo  much  popularity,  fhould  at 
length  become  completely  miferable,  and 
jiie,  negle<5tcd  and  forfaken,  her  fun  fetting 


injjlo- 


I  83  QUEEN    ELIZABETH. 

mgidrioufly    after  fo  blight  a  day  of  prof- 
perity  and  honour. 

May  we  not  venture  to  attribute  it  to 
the  defedivenefs,  not  to  fay,  unfoundnefs, 
of  her  moral  principles  ?  I'hough  corrupt 
principles  for  a  certain  period  may  conceal 
themfelves,  and  even  dazzle,  by  the  fuccefs 
of  the  projects  to  which,  in  the  view  of  fu- 
perficial  reafoners,  they  may  have  appeared 
conducive ;  they  will,  in  a  long  courfe  of 
aclion,  betray  their  intrinfic  weaknefs. 
They  may  not  entirely  have  prevented  the 
public  good  effefts  of  other  ufeful  qualities 
with  which  they  were  aflbciated ;  but 
they  do  moil  fatally  operate  againfl  the 
perfonal  honour  of  the  individual ;  and 
againft  her  reaping  that  harveft  of  gratitude 
and  refped,  to ,  which  fhe  might  otherwife 
have  been  fo  juftly  entitled. 

Vanity  was,  too  probably,  the  fpring  of 
fome  of  Elizabeth's  moft  admired  actions  ; 
but  the  fame  vanity  alfo  produced  that 
jealoufy,  which  terminated  in.  the  death  of 

Mary. 


QUEEN    ELIZABETH.  _  IS9 

Mary.  It  was  the  fame  vanity  which  led 
her  firll  to  court  the  admiration  of  EiTex, 
and  then  to  fuffer  him  to  fall  a  victim  to 
her  wounded  pride.  Her  tem.per  was  un- 
controlled. While  we  pardon  her  igno- 
rance of  the  principles  of  liberty,  we  fhould 
not  forget  how  little  fne  refpeded  the  pri- 
vileges of  parliament,  claiming  a  right  of 
imprifoning  its  very  members,  without 
deigning  to  give  any  account  of  her  pro- 
ceedings. 

Policy  was  her  favounte  fcience,  but  in 
that  day  a  liberal  policy  was  not  underftood  ; 
and  Elizabeth  was  too  apt  to  fubfdtute  both 
Emulation  and  diiEmulation  for  an  open  and 
generous  conduct.  This  diffimulation  at 
length  lofl:  her  the  confidence  of  her  fubjeft?, 
and  while  it  infpired  her  with  a  diflrufl,  it 
alfo  forfeited  the  attachment,  of  her  friends. 
Her  infnicerity,  as  was  natural,  infeded  thofe 
around  her.  The  younger  Cecil  himfelf 
was  fo  far  alienated  from  his  royal  millrefs, 
and  tainted  with  the  prevailing  fpirit  of  in?, 
trigue,  as  to  be  fecretly  correfponding  with 
her  rival  James. 

That 


190  QUEEN    ELIZABETH. 

That  fuch  mortifying  occurrences  were 
too  likely  to  arife,  from  the  very  nature  of 
exifting  circumftances,  where  the  dying 
prince  was  the  lafl  of  her  race,  and  the 
nearly  vacant  throne  about  to  be  poffefled 
by  a  ftranger,  mufl  affuredly  be  allowed. — 
But  it  may  flill  be  aflerted,  that  nothing 
but  deficiency  of  moral  charafter  could 
have  fo  defolated  the  clofmg  fcene  of  an 
illuftrious  princefs.  Real  virtue  will,  in 
every  rank,  draw  upon  it  difmterefled  re- 
gard ;  and  a  truly  virtuous  fovereign  will 
not  be  /hut  out  from  a  more  than  ordinary 
fhare  in  this  general  blelTmg.  It  is  honour- 
able to  human  nature  to  fee  the  dying  Wil- 
liam prefling  to  his  bofom  the  hand  of 
Bentinck ;  but  it  will  be  ftill  more  confo- 
latory  as  v/ell  as  inflru6tive  to  compare, 
with  the  forfaken  death-bed  of  Elizabeth^ 
the  exemplary  clofmg  fcene  of  the  fecond 
Mary  as  defcribed  by  Burnet,  an  eye-witnefs 
of  the  afFeding  event  which  he  relates^. 


CHAP, 


MORAL  ADVANTAGES  FROM,  &C.    I9I 


CHAP.  XIV. 

Moral  Advantages  to  be  derived  from  the 
Study  of  Hi/iory,  independent  of  the  Exatn- 
pies  it  exhibits. — Hijtory  pro'ves  the  cor- 
ruption of  Human  Nature. — //  demonftrates 
the  fuper intending  Power  of  Providence — ■ 
iihijlrated  by  hijhinces. 


X  HE  knowledge  of  great  events  and 
fplendid  characlers,  and  even  of  the  cuf- 
toms,  laws,  and  manners  of  different  na- 
tions ;  an  acquaintance,  however  accurate, 
with  the  flate  of  the  arts,  fciences,  and 
commerce  of  thofe  nations,  important  as  is 
this  knowledge,  mull  not  however  be  con* 
fidered  as  of  primary  importance  in  the 
fludy  of  hillory.  There  are  ftill  higher 
ufes  to  which  that  fludy  may  be  turned. 
Hiflory  furniflies  a  flrong  practical  illuftra- 
tion  of  one  of  the  fundamental  dodrines 
of  our  religion,  the  corrapdon  of  human 

nature- 


192        MORAL    ADVANTAGES    FROM 

nature.  To  this  truth  it  conflantly  bears 
witnefs  by  exemplifying  It  under  every  Ihape, 
and  fliade,  and  colour,  and  gradation  :  the 
annals  of  the  world,  indeed,  from  its  com- 
mencement to  the  prefent  hour,  prefenting 
h'ttle  elfe  than  a  flrongly  interwoven  tiffue 
of  thofe  corruptions,  and  their  attendant 
calamities. 

Hiflory  every  where  proves  the  helpleffnefs 
and  natural  inability  of  nan,  the  infufficiency 
of  all  fuch  moral  principles  as  can  be  derived 
fi-om  nature  and  experience  ;  the  neceflity 
of  explicit  inrtru6tion  refpecling  our  true 
happinefs,  and  of  divinely  communicated 
flrength  in  order  to  its  attainment ;  and 
confequently,  the  inconceivable  worth  of 
that  life  and  immortality,  which  are  fo  fully 
brought  to  light  by  the  Gofpel. 

That  reader  looks  to  little  purpofe  over 
the  eventful  page  of  hiflory,  who  does  not 
accuflom  himfeif  to  mark  therein  the  finger 
of  the  Almighty,  governing  kings  and 
kingdoms ;  prolonging  or  contrading  the 
duration  of  empires  ;  tracing  out  before 
6  hand. 


THE    STUDY   OF    HISTORY.  193 

hand,  |n  the  unimpeachable  page  of  the 
prophet  Daniel*,  an  outline  of  fucceffive 
empires,  which  fubfequent  events  have 
realized  with  the  moil  critical  exa£lnefs ; 
and  defcribing  their  eventual  fubfervience 
to  the  fpiritual  kingdom  of  the  Meffiah, 
with  a  circumftantial  accuracy  which  the 
well-informed  Chriflian,  who  is  verfed  in 
Scripture  language,  and  whofe  heart  is 
interefled  in  the  fubjeft,  reads  with  un- 
utterable  and   never-ceafmg   aftonifhment, 

*  The  parts  of  the  book  of  Daniel  chiefly  alluded 
to,  are  Nebuchadaezzar's  dream  and  Daniel's  inter- 
pretation of  it,  in  the  2d  chapter;  and  his  own 
vifion  of  the  four  beads,  in  the  8th.  Thefe  two  paf- 
fages  alone,  preferved  as  they  have  been,  by  the  molt 
inveterate  enemies  of  Chriftianity,  amount  to  an  iire- 
fragable  demonftration  that  our  religion  is  divine. 
One  of  the  moft  ancient  and  moft  learned  oppofers  of 
Revelation  is  faid  to  have  denied  the  poffibility  of 
thefe  prophecies  having  exifted  before  the  events. 
But  we  know  they  did  exift,  and  no  modern  infidel 
Jarei  to  difpute  it.  But,  in  admitting  this,  however 
they  may  take  refuge  in  their  own  inconfequence  of 
mind,  they  inentably,  though  indireiSlly,  allow  tne 
truth  of  Chriftianity. 

VOL,  I.  O  It 


194        MORAL    ADVANTAGES    FROM 

It  Is,  in  fad,  this  wonderful  correfpondence 
which  gives  its  highefl:  value  to  the  more 
ancient  half  of  the  hifloric  feries.     What 
would  it  profit  us,  at  this  day,  to  learn  from 
Xenophon,  that  the  AlTyrian  monarch  had 
fubjugated  all  thofe  countries,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  Media,   which  fpread  eaftward 
from   the   Mediterranean,    if  it  were   not 
that,  by  this  ftatement,   he  confirms  that 
important  portion  of  facred  and  prophetic 
hiflory  ?  And  to  what  folidly  ufeful  purpofe 
would  the  fame  hiflorian*s  detail  of  the  tak- 
ing of  Babylon  be  applicable,  if  it  did  not 
forcibly  as  well  as  minutely,  illuftrate  the 
almoft  equally  detailed  denunciations  of  the 
prophet  Ifaiah  ?     It  was  partly  for  the  pur- 
pofe   of    elucidating    this    correfpondence 
between  facred  prophecy  and  ancient  hif- 
tory ;    and    (hewing,    by    how   regular   a 
providential   chain   the   fucceffive    empires 
of  the  ancient  world  were  conneded  with 
each  other,  and  ultimately  with  Chrlftianity, 
tl^at   the    excellent    Rollin    compofed    his 
well-known    work :    and    the    impreflion, 

which 


*rHE    STUDY   O^   HISTORV.  I95 

which   his   refearches   left   upon   his   own 
mind,    may    be    feen   in    thofe   fublimely 
pious  remarks  with  which  his  laft  volume 
^is  concluded* 

A  careful  perufal  of  the  hiftorical  and 
prophetical  parts  of  Scripture  will  prepare 
us  for  reading  prophane  hiflory  with  great 
advantage.  In  the  former  we  are  admitted 
within  the  veil.  We  are  informed  how  the 
vices  of  nations  drew  down  on  them  the 
wrath  of  the  Almighty ;  and  how  fome 
neighbouring  potentate  was  employed  as 
the  inflrument  of  divine  vengeance.  How 
his  ambition,  his  courage,  and  military 
Ikili  were  but  the  means  of  fulfilling  the 
divine  prediction,  or  of  inflifting  the  divine 
punifhment.  How,  when  the  mighty  con- 
queror, the  executioner  of  the  fentence  of 
Heaven,  had  performed  his  afligned  talk, 
be  was  put  afide,  and  was  himfelf,  perhaps, 
in  his  turn,  humbled  and  laid  low.  Such 
are  the  familiar  incidents  of  hiftoric  and 
prophetic  Scripture.  But,  in  addition  to  the 
ftock  of  knowledge  which  we  receive  from 

o  2  thence. 


196         MORAL    ADVANTAGES    FROM 

thence,  we  fliall  have  learned  in  the  divine 
fchool  to  little  purpofe,  if  we  do  not  find 
the  benefit  of  our  fludies  in  the  general  im- 
preffion  and  habits  of  mind  which  we  de- 
rive from  them  ;  if  we  do  not  open  our  eyes 
to  the  agency  of  Providence  in  the  varying 
fortunes  of  nations,  and  in  the  talents,  cha- 
raaers,  and  fates  of  the  chief  adors  in  the 
great  drama  of  life. 

Do  we  read  in  the  prophetic  page  the 
folemn  call  and  defignation  of  Cyrus  ?  — 
Let  us  learn  to  recognize  no  lefs,  as  the 
inflrument  of  the  Almighty,  a  Guftavus, 
and  a  Marlborough !  Are  we  many  hun- 
dred  years  before,  informed  by  Him  who 
can  alone  fee  the  end  from  the  beginning, 
of  the  military  exploits  of  the  conqueror  of 
Babylon,  and  the  overturner  of  the  AlTyrian 
empire  ?  —  Let  us  learn  to  refer  no  lefs  to 
that  fame  All-difi^ofing  Power,  the  viftories 
of  Liitzen  and  of  Blenheim,  the  humilia- 
tion of  Auftrian  arrogance,  and  of  French 

ambition. 

Another 


10 


THE    STUDY   OF    HISTORY.  I97 

Another  important  end  of  the  iludy  of 
o-eneral  hiflory,  diflind  from  that  which 
has  juft  been  mentioned,  but  by  no  means 
unconnefted  with  it,  is  the  contemplation 
of  divine  wifdom  and  goodnefs,  as  exercifed 
in  gradually  civilizing  the  human  race, 
through  the  inftrumentality  of  their  owa 
agitation.  In  this  view  the  mind  of  the 
pupil  ihould  be  particularly  led  to  obferve 
that  myfterious,  yet  molt  obvious  operation 
of  Providence,  by  which,  through  fuccef- 
five  ages,  the  complicated  chaos  of  human 
a"-ency  has  been  fo  over-ruled  as  to  make 
all  things  work  together  for  general  good  : 
the  hoftile  colllfion  of  nations  being  often 
made  conducive,  almoft  in  its  immediate 
confequences,  to  their  common  benefit, 
and  often  rendered  fubfervient  to  the  gene- 
ral improvement,  and  progreffive  advance- 
ment of  the  great  commonvt-ealth  of  man- 
kind. 

If  this  view,  refpeding  the  world  at  large, 
(hould  be  deemed  too  vail  for  fatisfadory 

o  2,  con- 


198         MORAL  ADVANTAGES  FROM 

confideration,  it  may  be  limited  to  that 
part  with  which  we  are  mofl  nearly  con- 
neded ;  and  to  which  it  is  hardly  too  bold 
to  fay,  that  Divine  Providence  itfelf  has, 
during  the  latter  ages  of  the  world,  feemed 
to  dire<El  its  chief  attention — I  mean  the 
Continent  of  Europe.  Let  it  fmiply  be 
afked,  what  was  the  flate  of  this  Continent 
two  thoufand  years  ago  ?  The  anfwer  mufl 
be — from  the  Alps  to  the  Frozen  Ocean, 
a  moral  as  well  as  phyfical  wildemefs. — 
That  the  human  powers  were  formed  for 
extended  exercife,  and  in  fome  fenfe  for 
boundlefs  improvement,  the  very  con- 
templation of  thofe  powers  is  fufficient  to 
evince.  But  that  improvement  had  not 
then  begun,  nor  was  the  froft  of  their 
dreariell  winter  more  benumbing  than  that 
in  which  their  minds  had  been  for  ages 
locked  wp.  To  what  then  but  a  regular 
defign  of  Providence  can  we  attribute  the 
amazing  change?  And  it  is  doubtlefs  the 
partj  no  lefs  of  religious  gratitude  than  of 
philofophical  curiofity,  to  inquire  into  the 

feries 


THE    STUDY   OF    HISTORf.  1 99 

feries  of  inflrumental  caufes  by  which  the 
transformation  was  effefted.  This  interefl-  ^ 
ing  and  moft  in{lru<5live  intelligence  is  con- 
veyed to  us  by  hiftory.  We  mark  the  flow 
but  fteady  developement  of  the  wife  and  be- 
nevolent plan.  We  fee  the  ambition  of 
Rome  breaking  up  the  foil  with  its  refiftlefs 
plough-fhare,  and  fcattering  even  through 
thefe  Britifli  ifles  the  firfl  feeds  of  civilization. 
We  fee  the  northern  invaders  burfl  forth 
with  irrefiftibie  violence,  bringing  back, 
to  all  human  appearance,  the  former  defola- 
tion ;  but,  in  reality,  conducing,  though 
with  an  operation  like  that  of  lava  from  a 
volcano,  to  a  richer  harveft  of  fecial  and 
civil  happinefs.  We  fee  all  that  was  really 
valuable  fpring  up  again  afrefh,  mingled 
with  new  principles  of  utility  and  comfort ; 
and  above  all,  quickened  and  enriched  by 
the  wide-fpread  influences  of  a  pure  and 
heavenly  religion.  We  fee  the  violent 
pafTions  providentially  let  loofe,  when  it 
was  neceffary  for  fociety  to  be  roufed  from 
^  pernicious  torpor. — We  fee  an  enthufiaf- 

o  4  tic 


JOO        MO^AL  ADVANTAGES    FROM 

tic  rage  for  conquefts  in  Afia,  inducing  aii 
activity  of  mind,  and  enlargement  of  view, 
out  of  which  eventually  grew  commerce,  li- 
berty, literature,  philofophy,  and  at  length, 
even  religious  reformation.  In  brief,  if  in 
our  perufal  of  hiftory,  we  take  true  wifdom 
for  our  guide,  we  fhall  not  only  be  in- 
ftruded  by  that  gracious  progreffivenefs 
which  is  difcernible  in  pad  events,  but, 
notwithftanding  the  awful  concuffions  of 
the  prefent  period,  we  fliall  learn  to  trufl 
Almighty  wifdom  and  goodnefs  for  what  is 
to  come.  And  we  fliall  be  ready  to  indulge 
the  hope  of  a  yet  greatly  increafed  hap-, 
pinefs  of  mankind,  when  we  confider,  that 
the  hand  which  brought  us  from  barbarifm 
to  our  prefent  circumflances  is  flill  over  us; 
p— that  progreflion  to  flill  better  habits  is 
equally  pofTible,  and  equally  neceffary  ;  and 
that  no  means  were  rendered  more  condu- 
cive to  fuch  progrefs,  in  the  period  which  is 
palTed,  than  the  agitations  of  the  fame  awful 
and  afflictive  kind  which  we  are  now  doomed 
to  contemplate. 

It 


THE    STUDY    OF    HISTORY.  201 

It  will  be  feen  that  the  fame  infinite 
wifdom  often  permits  human  evils  to  ba- 
lance each  other,  and  in  fubfervience  td 
his  grand  purpofe  of  general  good,  not  only 
fets  good  againfl  evil,  but  often,  where  the 
counterading  principle  of  religion  feems 
wholly  fufpended,  prevents  any  fatal  pre- 
ponderance in  the  fcale  of  human  affairs, 
by  allowing  one  fet  of  vices  to  counter- 
balance another, — Thus,  focieties,  which 
appear,  on  a  general  view,  to  have  almolt 
wholly  thrown  oiF  the  divine  government, 
are  ftill  preferved  for  better  things,  or  per* 
haps,  for  the  fake  of  the  righteous  few, 
who  ftill  remain  in  them,  by  means  of 
thofe  exertions  v/hich  bad  men  make  from 
felfifh  motives ;  or  by  the  vigilance  with 
which  one  party  of  bad  men  watches  over 
another.  The  clafh  of  parties,  and  the 
oppofition  of  human  opinion,  are  like  wife 
often  over-ruled  for  good.  The  compages 
of  the  public  mind,  if  we  may  ufe  fuch  a 
term,  are  no  lefs  kept  together,  than  the 
component  parts  of  matter,  by  oppofite 
,  tcndencieSf 


202         MORAL  ADVANTAGES  FROM 

tendencies.  And,  as  all  human  agents 
are  nothing  but  the  inftruments  of  God, 
he  can  with  equal  efficacy,  though  doubtlefs 
not  with  the  fame  complacency,  caufe  the 
efFefts  of  evil  paflions  to  be  counteracted 
by  each  other,  as  well  as  by  the  oppofite 
virtues.  For  inftance,  were  it  not  for  indo- 
lence and  the  dread  of  difficulty  and  danger, 
ambition  would  deluge  the  world  in  blood. 
The  love  of  praife,  and  the  love  of  indul- 
gence, affifl,  through  their  mutual  oppofi- 
tion,  to  keep  each  other  in  order.  Avarice 
and  voluptuoufnefs  are  almoft  as  hoftile  to 
each  other,  as  either  is  to  the  oppofite 
virtues  ;  therefore,  by  pulling  different 
ways,  they  contribute  to  keep  the  world  in 
equipoife.  Thus,  the  fame  divine  hand, 
■which  had  fo  adjufted  the  parts  and  pro- 
perties of  matter,  as  that  their  apparent 
oppofition  produces,  not  difruption,  but 
harmony,  and  promotes  the  general  order, 
has  alfo  conceived,  through  the  a£lion  and 
counteradion  of  the  human  mind,  that  no 
jar   of  pallion,    no   abufe  of  free   agency, 

Ihall 


THE    STUDY    OF   HISTORY.  203 

fliall  eventually  defeat  the  wife  and  gracious 
purpofes  of  heaven. 

For  an  illuftration  of  thefe  remarks,  we 
fcarcely  need  go  farther  than  the  charac- 
ter of  our  own  heroic  Elizabeth.  Her 
paffions  were  naturally  of  the  flrongell 
kind ;  and  it  mufl  be  acknowledged,  that 
they  were  not  always  under  the  control  of 
principle.  To  what  then  can  we  fo  fairly 
afcribe  the  fuccefs  which,  even  in  fuch 
inftances,  attended  her,  as  to  the  effeft  of 
one  ftrong  paiTion  forcibly  operating  upon 
another  ?  Inclinations  which  were  too  vio- 
lent to  be  checked  by  reafon  were  met 
and  counteraded  by  oppofite  inclinations 
of  equal  violence  ;  and  through  the  direc- 
tion of  providence,  the  paffion  finally  pre- 
dominant was  generally  favourable  to  the 
public  good. 

Do  we  then   mean  to   admit,  that   the 

Almighty    approves   of    thefe  excefles   in 

iodividuals,   by  which    his    wifdom    often 

-i^rorks  for  the  general  benefit  ?    God  forbid. 

Nothing  furely  could  be  lefs  approved  by 

him, 


204        MORAL    ADVANTAGES    FROM 

him,  than  the  licentioufnefs  and  cruelty  of 
our  eighth  Henry,  though  He  over-ruled 
thofe  enormities  for  the  advantages  of  the 
community,  and  employed  them,  as  his- 
inftruments  for  refloring  good  government,' 
and  for  introducing,  and  at  length  eila- 
blilhing,  the  reformation.  England  enjoys 
the  ineftimable  bleffing,  but  the  monarch 
is  not  the  lefs  refponfible  perfonally  for  his 
crimes.  We  are  equally  certain,  that  God 
did  not  approve  of  the  infatiable  ambition 
of  Alexander,  or  of  his  incredible  acquifi- 
tion  of  territory  by  means  of  unjufl  wars. 
Yet,  from  that  ambition,  thofe  wars,  and 
thofe  conquefts,  how  much  may  the  con- 
dition of  mankind  have  been  meliorated? 
The  natural  humanity  of  this  hero,  which 
he  had  improved  by  the  ftudy  of  philofophy 
under  one  of  the  greatefl  mafters  in  the 
world,  difpofed  him  to  turn  his  conquefts 
to  the  benefit  of  mankind.  He  founded 
feventy  cities,  fays  his  hiftorian,  fo  fituated 
as  to  promote  commerce  and  diifufe  civili- 
zation. 


THE    STUDY   OF   HISTOPvY.  205 

zatlon.  Plutarch*  obferves,  that  had  thofe 
nations  not  been  conquered,'  Egypt  would 
have  had  no  Alexandria,  Mefopotamia  no 
Seleucia.  He  aifo  informs  us, that  Alexander 
introduced  marriage  into  one  conquered 
country,  and  agriculture  into  another  ;,  that 
one  barbarous  nation,  which  ufed  to  eat 
their  parents,  was  led  by  him  to  reverence 
and  maintain  them  ;  that  he  taught  the  Per- 
fians  to  refpecl,  and  not  to  marry  their  mo- 
thers ;  the  Scythians  to  bury,  and  not  to  eat 
their  dead. 

There  was,  on  the  whole,  fomething  {^o 
extraordinary  in  the  career  of  this  monarch, 
and  in  the  refults  to  which  it  led,  that  his 
hiftorian  Arrian,  amidil  all  the  darknefs  of 
Paganifm,  was  induced  to  fay,  that  Alex- 
ander feemed  to  have  been  given  to  the; 
world  by  a  peculiar  difpcnfation  of  Provi- 
dence. 

Did  the  fame  juft  Providence  approve  of 
the  ufurpation  of  Auguftus  over  his  fallen 

*  Quoted  by  Gillies,  vol.  iii.  p.  385". 

country  C 


2o6        MORAL  ADVANTAGES   FROM 

country  ?  No — but  Providence  employed  it 
as  the  means  of  reftoring  peace  to  remote 
provinces,  which  the  tyrannical  republic 
had  fo  long  harafled  and  opprefTed  ;  and 
alfo,  of  eftabliihing  a  general  uniformity  of 
law,  and  a  facility  of  intercourfe  between 
nation  and  nation,  which  were  fignally  fub- 
fervient  to  the  diffufion  of  that  divine  re- 
ligion, which  was  fo  foon  to  enlighten  and 
to  blefs  mankind; 

To  adduce  one  or  two  inftances  more, 
where  thoufands  might  be  adduced. — ^Did 
the  Almighty  approve  thofe  frantic  wars, 
which  arrogated  to  themfelves  the  name  of 
hohj  ?  Yet,  with  all  the  extravagance  of  the 
enterprize,  and  the  ruinous  failure  which 
attended  its  execution,  many  beneficial 
confequences,  as  has  been  already  inti- 
mated, were  permitted,  incidentally,  to  grow 
out  of  them.  The  Crufaders,  as  their  hillo- 
rians  demonftrate*,  beheld  in  their  march 
countries  in  which    civilization  had   made 

*   See  efpecially  Robertfon's  State  of  Europe. 

a  greater 


THE    STUDY    OF    HISTORY.  SO/ 

a  greater  progrefs  than  in  their  own. 
They  faw  foreign  manufactures  in  a  ftate 
of  improvement  to  which  they  had  not 
been  accuftomed  at  home.  They  perceived 
remains  of  knowledge  in  the  Eaft,  of  which 
Europe  had  almoft  loft  fight.  Their  native 
prejudices  were  diminiihed  in  witneffing 
improvements  to  which  the  ftate  of  their  own 
country  prefented  comparative  barbarity. 
The  firft  faint  gleam  of  light  dawned  on 
them,  the  firft  perceptions  of  tafte  and  ele- 
gance were  awakened,  and  the  firft  rudi- 
ments of  many  an  art  were  communicated 
to  them,  by  this  perfonal  acquaintance  with 
more  polifhed  countries.  Their  views  of 
commerce  were  improved,  and  their  means 
of  extending  it  were  enlarged. 

It  is  iicarcely  neceffary  to  add,  that  the 
excefs  to  whiel)  the  popes  carried  their 
ufurpation,  and  the  Romifti  clergy  their 
corruptions,  was,  by  the  Providence  of 
Godj  the  immediate  eaufe  of  the  reforma- 
tion. The  taking  of  Conftantinople  by 
the  Turks,  though,   in  itfelf,    a   moft  de- 

7  plorable 


208^    MORAL    ADVANTAGES    FROM 

plorable  fcene  of  crimes  and  calamities, 
became  the  occafion  of  mofl  important 
benefits  to  our  countries,  by  compelling 
the  only  accompliflied  fcholars  then  in  the 
world  to  feek  an  afylum  in  the  weftern 
parts  of  Europe.  To  thefe  countries  they 
carried  with  them  the  Greek  language, 
which  ere  long  proved  one  of  the  providen- 
tial means  of  introducing  the  moil:  important 
event  that  has  occurred  fnice  the  firfl  efta- 
blifliment  of  Chriflianity. 

May  we  not  noiu  add  to  the  number  of 
inftances  in  which  Providence  has  over-ruled 
the  crimes  of  men  for  good,  a  recent 
exemplification  of  the  dodtrine,  in  the  am- 
bition of  that  perfon,  who,  by  his  unjuil 
afTum.ption  of  imperial  power  in  a  neigh- 
bouring nation,  has,  though  uninten- 
tionally, almofl  annihilated  the  wild  outcry 
of  falfe  liberty,  and  the  clamour  of  mad  de- 
mocracy ? 

AH  thofe  contingent  events  which  lie 
without  the  limits  and  calculation  of  human 
forefight  J  all  thofe  variable  loofe  uncer- 
tainties 


THE  STUDY  OF  HISTORY.  20Q 

tainties  which  men  call  chance,  has  God 
taken  under  his  own  certain  difpofal  and 
abfokite  control.  To  reduce  uncertainty 
to  method,  confuuon  to  arrangement,  and 
contingency  to  order,  is  folely  the  preroga- 
tive of  Almighty  power. 

Nothing  can  be  further  from  the  inten- 
tion of  thefe  remarks,  than  to  countenance, 
in  the  flighted  degree,  the  doftrine  of  opti- 
mifm  in  the  fenfe  in  which  it  was  maintained 
by  Mr.  Pope.  Far  be  it  from  the  writerp 
to  intimate  that  the  good,  which  has  thus 
providentially  been  produced  oiit  of  evil,  is 
greater  than  the  good,  which  would  have 
been  produced  had  no  fuch  evil  been  .eom-« 
mitted  ;  or  to  infinuate,  that  the  crimes  of 
men  do  not  diminifh  the  quantity  of  good 
which  is  enjoyed.  This  would,  indeed,  be 
to  fumifh  an  apology  for  vice.  That  God 
cpji  and  does  bring  good  out  of  eyil,  is  un= 
queflionably  true ;  but  to  affirm,  that  he 
brings  more,  or  fo  much  good  out  of  evil 
as  he  would  have  brought  out  of  good,  had 
good  been  pradifed,  woul^  b^  indeed  a 
dangerous  pofition. 

VOL,  h  P  If, 


2IO         MORAL  ADVANTAGES  FROM 

If,  therefore,  God  often  "  educes  good 
from  ill,"  yet  man  has  no  right  to  count 
upon  his  always  doing  it,  in  the  fame 
degree  in  which  he  appoints  that  good  fhall 
be  productive  of  good.  To  refume  the 
illuftration,  therefore,  from  a  few  of  the 
initances  already  adduced  j  what  an  ex- 
tenfive  bleffing  might  Alexander,  had  he 
afted  with  other  views  and  to  other 
ends,  have  proved  to  that  world,  whofe 
happinefs  be  impaired  by  his  ambition,  and 
whofe  morals  he  corrupted  by  his  example ! 
- — How  much  more  effeftually,  and  imme- 
diately, might  the  reformation  have  been 
'promoted,  had  Henry,  laying  afide  the 
blindnefs  of  prejudice,  and  fubduing  the 
turbulence  of  paffion,  been  the  zealous 
and  confiflent  fupporter  of  the  Proteflant 
caufe;  the  virtuous  hufband  of  one  vir- 
tuous wife,  and  the  parent  of  children  all 
educated  in  the  found  principles  of  the 
reformation  ! — Again,  had  the  popes  effec- 
tually reformed  themfelyes,  how  might  the 
unity  of  the  church  have  been  promoted  ; 

and 


THE  STUDY  OF  HISTORY.  211 

and  even  the  fchifms,  which  have  arlfen  ui 
Proteflant  communities,  been  diminifhed !  It 
would  be  fuperfluous  to  recapitulate  other 
inflances ;  thefe,  it  is  prefumed,  being 
abundantly  fufficient  to  obviate  any  charge 
of  the  mofl  diftant  approach  towards  the 
fatal  dodrine  of  NecelTity. 


P  2 


CHAP. 


ai2    DISTINGUISHING  CHARACTERS 


CHAP.  XV. 

On  the  dtflingidjhing  CharaSiers  of  Chriji- 

ian'ity. 

X.  HE  great  leading  truths  of  Scripture 
are  few  in  number,  though  the  fpirit  of 
them  is  diffufed  through  every  page. — 
The  being  and  attributes  of  the  Almighty  ; 
the  fpiritual  worlhip  which  he  requires ; 
the  introdudion  of  natural  and  moral  evil 
into  the  world  ;  the  reftoration  of  man  ; 
the  life,  death,  charadler,  and  offices  of  the 
Redeemer  ;  the  holy  example  he  has  given 
us  ;  the  divine  fyflem  of  erhics  which  he 
has  bequeathed  us  ;  the  awful  fanflions  with 
which  they  are  enforced ;  the  fpiritual 
nature  of  the  eternal  world  ;  the  neceffity 
of  repentance  ;  the  pardon  of  fm  through 
faith  in  a  Redeemer  ;  the  offer  of  divine 
affiilance  ;  and  the  promife  of  eternal  life. 
The  Scripture  defcribes  a  multitude  of 
perfons  who  exemplify  its    truths  j  whofe 

lives 


OF  CHRISTIANITY.  21^ 

lives  bear  teflimony  to  the  perfection  of 
the  divine  law  ;  and  whofe  characters, 
however  clouded  with  infirmity,  and  fubjedt 
to  temptation,  yet,  ading  under  its  authority 
and  influence,  evince,  by  the  general  tenor 
of  their  condudt,  that  they  really  embraced 
religion  as  a  governing  principle  of  the 
heart,  and  as  the  motive  to  all  virtue  in 
the  life. 

In  forming  the  mind  of  the  royal  pupil, 
an  early  introduction  to  thefe  Scriptures, 
the  depofitory  of  fuch  important  truths,  v*^ill 
doubtlefs  be  confidered  as  a  matter  of  prime 
concern.  And,  as  her  mind  opens,  it  will 
be  thought  necelTary  to  point  out  to  her, 
how  one  great  event  led  to  another  ftill 
greater  ;  till  at  length  we  fee  a  feries 
accomplifhed,  and  an  immovable  founda- 
tion laid  for  our  faith  and  hope,  which  in- 
cludes every  eflential  principle  of  moral 
virtue  and  genuine  happinefs. 

To  have  given  rules  for  moral  conduct 
might  appear,  to  mere  human  wifdom,  the 
apteft   method   of  improving   our  nature. 

P  3  And, 


214     DISTINGUISHING  CHARACTERS 

And,  accordingly,  we  find  fuch  a  courfe 
generally    purfued    by    the    ancient    mo- 
ralifls,  both  of  Greece  and  Afia.      Of  this, 
it  is  not  the  lead  inconvenient  refult,  that 
rules  muft  be  multiplied  to  a  degree  the 
mofl   burthenfome   and  perplexing.     And 
there   would  be,   after  all,  a  neceffity  for 
Inceffant  alteration,  as  the  rules  of  one  age 
could  not  be   expected  to  correfpond  with 
the  manners  of  another.      This   inconve- 
nience might,  perhaps,  in  fome  degree  be 
avoided,  by  entailing  on  a  people  an  un- 
deviating  famenefs  of  manners.      But,  even 
when  this  has  been  effefted,  how  oppref- 
fively  minute,  and  how  difguitingly  trivial 
are  the  authorzied  codes  of  inflruction  !  Of 
this,  every  freih  tranflation  from  the  moral 
writings  of  the  Eaft  is  an "  exemplification  ; 
as  if  the  mind  could  be  made  pure  by  over- 
Ipading  the  memory ! 

It  is  one  of  the  perfeftions  of  revealed 
religion,  that,  inftead  of  multiplying  rules, 
it  eflabliflies  principles.  It  traces  up  right 
conduQ:    into    a    few    radical    difpofitions, 

which. 


OF    CHRISTIANITY.  215 

which,  when  once  fully  formedj  are  the 
natural  fources  of  correfpondent  temper 
and  acLion.  To  implant  thefe  difpofitions, 
then,  is  the  leading  objed;  of  what  we  may- 
venture  to  call  the  Scripture  philofophy. 
And  as  the  heart  mud  be  the  feat  of  that 
which  is  to  influence  the  whole  man,  fo  it 
is  chiefly  to  the  heart  that  the  holy  Scrip- 
tures addrefs  themfelves.  Their  obje<Sl  is 
to  make  us  h-ve  what  is  rights  rather  than 
to  occupy  our  underfl:aiidings  with  its 
theory.  Knowledge  puffeih  up^  fays  one  of 
our  divine  inflirudors,  but  it  is  Love  that 
edifieth.  And  the  principle  which  is  here 
aflTumed,  will  be  found  mofl  flirictly  true, 
that  if  a  love  of  goodnels  be  once  thorough- 
ly implanted,  we  fliall  not  need  many 
rules  ;  but  we  fhall  act  aright  from  what  we 
may  almofl:  call  a  noble  kind  of  inflind. 
"  If  thine  eye  be  fmgle,"  fays  our  Saviour, 
"  thy  whole  body  fliall  be  full  of  light.'* 
Our  religion,  as  taught  in  the  Scripture, 
does  J  in  this  very  inft:ance,  evince  its 
heavenly  origin.      St.  Paul,  whofe  peculiar 

p  4  pro- 


2l6     DISTINGUISHING  CHARACTERS 

province  It  feems  to  have  been,  to  explaifiji 
as  it  V7ere  fcientifically^  the  great  dodrines 
of  his  mafter,  gives  us  a  definition  of 
Chriflianity,  which  out-does  at  once  in 
brevity,  in  fullnefs,  and  even  in  fyftematic 
exaftnefs,  all  which  has  been  achieved  in 
the  art  of  epitomizing,  by  the  greatfeft 
.inafters  of  human  {deuce,—- Failb  ivhicB 
workcth  by  love. 

It  is  not  too  much  to  affirm,  that  this 
exprellion  fubflantially  contains  the  whole 
fcope  and  tenor  of  both  Teftaments  ;  the 
fubilance  of  all  morahty,  and  the  very  hfe 
.and  foul  of  human  virtue  and  happinefs. 
A  want  of  attention  to  what  St.  Paul  means 
bv  faiths  too  L^cnerallv  makes  the  fenfe  of 
the  palTage  be  overlooked.  But  the  well- 
directed  fludent  will  difcern,  that  St.  Paul 
aiTumes  exactly  what  has  been  intimated 
above,  that  God's  objecl  in  Revelation  is 
not  merely  to  convey  his  ivill,  but  alfo  to 
hianifefl  hmfelf ;  not  merely  to  promulgate 
laws  for  retraining  or  regulating  condudtj 
fciit  to  difplay  his  own  nature  and  attributes^ 

fo 


Oi  CHRISTIANITVi  H'/ 

to  as  to  bring  back  to  himfelf  the  hearts 
and  affections  of  fallen  man ;  and  that, 
accordingly,  he  means  by  faith,  the  effec- 
tual and  impreflive  apprehenfion  of  God, 
thus  manifefled.  In  his  language,  it  is 
not  a  notion  of  the  intelled,  nor  a  tradition 
coldly  refiding  in  the  recolledlion,  which 
the  Scriptures  exhibit,  but  an  actual  per- 
fuafi«*n  of  the  divine  realities.  It  is,  in 
fliort,  fuch  a  conviftion  of  what  is  revealed, 
as  gives  it  an  eiHcacy  equal,  for  every  prac- 
tical purpofe,  to  that  which  is  derived 
through  the  evidence  of  our  fenfes. 

Faith,  then,  in  St.  Paul's  language,  is 
religion  in  its  fmiplefl,  inward  principle. 
It  is  the  deep  and  efficacious  impreflion, 
which  th(t  manifellation  of  God,  made  to 
us  in  the  Scripture,  ought  in  all  reafon  to 
produce  in  our  hearts  ;  but  which  it  does 
not  produce  until,  in  anlwer  to  cur  earneft: 
prayerj  his  holy  Spirit  "  opens,  as  it  were, 
*'  our  hearts,"  to  receive  the  things  which 
are  thus  prefented  to  our  minds.  When 
the  unfeen  realities  of  religion  are  able  to 

do 


2l8      DISTINGUISHING    CHARACTERS 

do  more  with  us  than  the  tempting  objeds 
of  this  vifible  world,  then  and  not  before, 
is  the  divine  grace  of  faith  really  formed 
v/ithin  us. 

That  this  is  the  fcriptural  idea  of  faith, 
will  appear  at  once,  from  a  perufal  of  that 
moft  interefling  portion  of  Scripture,  the 
eleventh  chapter  to  the  Hebrews.  The 
definition,  with  which  the  chapter  com- 
mences, ftates  this  precife  notion  : — "  Faith 
is  the  fiihJlanUation  of  things  hoped  for, 
the  demorijlrat'wv,  of  things  not  feen  *.*' 
And  the  inftances  adduced  are  mofl  fatis- 
faftory  exemplifications.  "  By  faith,  Noah, 
being  w^arned  of  God  of  things  not  feen  as 
yet,  being  moved  with  fear,  prepared  an 
ark,"  &:c.  "  By  faith,  Mofes  forfook 
Egypt,  not  fearing  the  WTath  of  the  king, 
for  he  endured  as  feeing  him  who  is  invi- 

*  I  thus  venture  to  fliycngthen  the  expreiHons  in 
the  authorized  tranflaticn,  in  orucr  to  convey  feme 
clearer  idea  of  the  orii'inal  terms,  v.hich,  as  the  bell 
critics  allow,  have,  perhaps,  a  force  to  which  no 
Enghfa  words  ran  do  juftice. 

fible.'-* 


OF  CFIRISTIANITY.  219 

lible."  "  With  the  heart,"  fafs  St.  Paul, 
'*  man  believeth  unto  righteoufnefs  ;"  that 
is,  when  the  infinitely  awful  and  inexpref- 
fibly  engaging  views  of  God,  manifeiting 
himfelf  in  the  Scripture,  as  our  Creator, 
Redeemer,  and  Sandifier,  really  and  ef- 
fedualjy  imprefs  themfelves  on  cur  hearts, 
fo  as  to  become  the  paramount  principle 
of  inward  and  outward  conduct ;  then,  and 
not  before,  we  are,  in  the  Scripture  fenfe, 
believers.  And  this  faith,  if  real,  mull 
produce  love ;  for,  when  our  minds  and 
hearts  are  thus  impreflcd,  our  affeftions 
mull:  of  neceffity  yield  to  that  imprcffion. 
If  virtue,  faid  a  heathen,  could  be  feen 
with  human  eyes,  what  aftonilhing  love 
would  it  excite  in  us  1  St.  Paul's  -divine 
faith  realizes  this  very  idea.  If  Mofes 
^'  endured  Tisfeemg  him  who  is  invifible,"  it 
could  only  be,  becaufe,  in  feeing  God,  he 
beheld  what  filled  up  his  whole  foul,  and 
fo  engaged  his  hopes  and  fears,  but,  above 
all,  his  love,  as  to  raife  him  above  the  low 
allurements  of  the   world,  and  the   puny 

menaces 


■226     DISTINGUISHING    CHARACTEfl<> 

menaces   of  mortals.      It   is  faid  of  him, 
that   "  he  accounted  even  the  reproach  of 
Chrifl  greater  riches  than  the  treafures  of 
Egypt  ;'*    a  preference  which  imphcs   the 
ftrorgeft   affeBion^  as  well  as  the  deepeft 
convidion.      Flis    cafe,    then,    clearly   illuf- 
trate  what  St.   Paul    fays  oi  faith  working 
by   love  ;    his  apprehenfion   of  God  being 
fo  deep  and  lively,  as  to  fix  his  fupreme 
love  on   that   fupreme   excellence,    which 
was  thus,  as  it  were,  vifible  to  his  mind  ; 
the  current  of  his  temper,  and  the  courfe 
of  his   adions,    followed    this    paramount 
direction  of  his  heart. 

The  Scripture  then,  in  reality,  does  not 
fo  much  teach  us  how  to  be  virtuous,  as, 
if  we  com.ply  with  its  iiltention,  a&ually 
makes  us  fo.  It  is  St.  Paul's  argument 
through  the  Epiflle  to  the  Romans,  that 
even  the  mod  perfed  code  of  laws  which 
could  be  given,  would  fall  infinitely  ihort 
of  our  exigencies,  if  it  only  gave  the  rules, 
without  infpiring  the  difpofition. 

The 


OF    CHRISTIANITY.  221 

The  law  of  Mofes  had  afforded  admirable 
moral  precepts,  and  even  the  fages  of  the 
heathen  world  had  found  out  many  ex- 
cellent maxims ;  but,  an  infpiriting  prin- 
ciple, by  which  men  might  be  made  to  love 
goodnefs  as  well  as  to  know  it,  was  that 
of  which  the  Gentiles,  and,  in  fome  mea- 
fure  the  Jews  alfo,  flood  in  need.  And 
to  furnifli  this  principle  by  infpiring  fuch 
a  faith  in  God,  as  mufl  produce  love  to 
God,  and,  by  producing  love  to  God, 
become  operative  in  every  fpecies  of  virtue, 
is  avowedly  the  fupreme  objed  of  the 
Gofpel  of  Chrill. 

And,  therefore,  it  is,  that  the  Scripture 
reprefents  to  ms  facts,  and  dodtrines  founded 
on  fads  rather  than  theories  ;  becaufe  fads 
are  alone  fitted  to  work  on  the  heart.  In 
theories,  the  underftanding  ads  for  itfelf ; 
in  apprehending  fads,  it  ads  fubferviently 
to  the  higher  powers  of  the  foul,  merely 
furnifliing  to  the  affedions  thofe  objeds  for 
which  they  naturally  look  ;  and  diftinguifh- 
ing   falfe  and  fedudive  appearances  from 

4  real 


22^     DISTINGUISHING    CHARACTER* 

real  fources  of  delight  and  comfort.  In 
this  way  the  facred  Scriptures  make  the 
fulleft  ufe  of  our  rational  powers,  uniformly 
prefenting  fuch  faQ:s,  as  grow  clearer  the 
more  feverely  they  are  examined  :  com- 
pletely fatisfying  our  underftandings,  as  to 
their  aptnefs  to  the  great  purpofe  of  work- 
ing on  our  hearts,  and,  on  the  whole  mak- 
ing our  religion  as  reafonable,  as  if,  like 
mathematical  truth,  it  had  been  exclufively 
addrefled  to  our  intellect  ;  while  its  influ- 
ence on  the  rightly  difpofed  heart  gives 
fuch  an  inward  proof  of  its  divinity  as  no 
merely  rational  fcheme  could,  in  the  nature 
of  things,  polTefs. 

*Let,  then,  the  royal  pupil  be  carefully 
taught,  that  Chriflianity  is  not  to  be  examin- 
ed, nor  the  facred  Scriptures  perufed,  as  if 
they  were  merely  to  be  believed,  and  remem- 
bered, and  held  in  fpeculative  reverence. 
But,  let  it  rather  be  imprcflfed  upon  her^ 
that  the  holy  Scriptures  are  God's  great, 
means  of  producing  in  her  heart,  that  awe 
of  his  prefence,  that  reverence  of  his  ma- 

jefty. 


OF    CHRISTIANITY,  223 

jelly,  that  delight  in  his  infinite  perfedions, 
that  pra(5lical  affedionate  knq,wledge  of  the 
only  true  God,  and  of  Jefus  Chriil  whom 
he  has  fent,  which  conllitutes  the  rejl.,  the 
peace,  thejirength,  the  light,  the  confolafion 
of  every  foul  which  attains  to- it.  Ltt  her 
be  taught  to  regard  the  oracles  of  God, 
not  merely  as  a  light  to'^  guide  her  fteps, 
but,  as  a  facred  fire  to  animate  and  invigo- 
rate her  inmoft  foul.  A  purifying  fiame, 
like  that  upon  the  altar,  from  whence  the 
feraph  conveyed  the  coal  to  the  lips  of  the 
prophet,  who  cried  out,  "  Lo  !  this  hath 
touched  my  lips,  and  mine  iniquity  is  taken 
away,  and  my  fin  is  purged." 

That  fear  of  God,  which  the  Scripture, 
when  ufed  as  it  ought,  never  fails  to  in- 
fpire,  is  felt  by  the  poffelTor  to  be  eflential 
wifdom  ;  and  that  love  of  God,  which  it  is 
no  lefs  fitted  to  excite,  is  equally  acknow- 
ledged by  him  v/hom  it  influences,  to  be 
at  once  eflential  virtue,  and  eflential  hap- 
pinefs ;  and  both  united,  are  found  to  be 
that  pure  element  in  which  rational  intelli- 
1 3  gences 


224     DISTINGUISHING    CHARACTERS 

gences  are  formed  to  live,  and  out  of 
which  they  muft  ever  be  perturbed  and 
miferable. 

But,  to  make  the  Scripture  thus  effica- 
cious, it  muft  be  ftudied  according  to  the 
will  of  him  who  gave  it.     It  is  faid  of  our 
Saviour  in  the  inftance  of  his  difciples, — 
"  Then  opened  he  their  under ftandings,  that 
they   might   underftand   the   Scriptures  ;'' 
and  it  is  faid  of  Lydia,  Saint  Paul's  firft  coa-f 
vert  at  Philippi,  "  That  the  Lord  opened 
her  heart,    to  attend  to    the  things  which 
were  fpoken  of  Paul."    We  read  of  others 
of  whom  it  is  obferved,  "  The  Gofpel  was 
preached,  but  it  did  not  profit  them,  be- 
caufe  it  was  not  mixed  with  faith  in  then; 
that  heard  it.'*     What  follows  ?  evidently, 
that  the  Scripture,  to  be  read  effe£lually, 
muft  be  read  devoutly  5  with  earneft  and 
conftant  prayer  to  him  whofe   word  it  is, 
that  he  would  fo  imprefs  it  on  our  hearts, 
by  his  good  fpirit,  that  it  may  indeed  be- 
come the  power  of  God    unto   falvation. 
"  If  any  man  lack  wifdom  let  him  afk  it  of 


OF  CHRISTIANITY.  225 

God,"  fays  St.  James,  "  who  giveth  to  all 
men  iiberaliy,  and  upbraideth  not,  and  it 
fliall  be  given  him." 

But,   one   grand   peculiarity    of  Chrifti- 
anity  remains  to    be  menlion'ed, — l^hat  it 
addreffes   us  not  mer<:;'' ^-. /is  ignorant,   but 
as  prejudiced  and  corrupt  ;  as  needing  not 
merely  inftruction,  but  reformation.     This 
reformation    can   be    accompKilied,    thefe 
prejudices   and   thefe    corruptions    can    be 
removed,   only  by   divine  power.     It  is  a 
new    creation    of  the   foul,    requiring    no 
lefs  than  its  original   formation,  the  hand 
of   the    divine    artificer.       "  The    natural 
man  receiveth   not  the   tilings  of  the  fpirit 
of  Cod;    they   are  fooHfhnefs   unto  him." 
God     mufl     reveal   them    by    his    fpirit  j 
he  mult  produce  the  difpofition  to  receive 
ihem. 

To  this  end  no  kind  of  previous  knov/- 
Icdge  is  more  conducive  than  the  know- 
ledge of  ourfelves  as  fallen,  depraved,  and 
helplcfs  creatures;  and,  therefore,  abfolutely 
requiring  fome  fuch  gracious  interpofition 
VOL.  I.  Q  in 


226      DISTINGUISHING  CHARACTERS 

in  our  favour,  as  that  which  the  Scripture 
offers.  Exaftly  as  the  malady  is  felt,  will' 
the  remedy  be  valued  ;  and,  confequently, 
no  inftruftion  can  be  more  indifpenfable  for 
the  royal  pupil,  than  that  which  tends  to 
imprefs  on  her  mi .  1,  that  in  this  refped  fiie 
ftands  on  a  level  with  the  meaneft  of  her 
fellow-creatures.  That,  from  the  natural 
corruption  of  every  human  heart,  whatever 
amiable  qualities  an  individual  may  poffefp,. 
each  carries  about  with  him  a  root  of  bitter- 
nefs,  which,  if  not  counteracted  by  the 
above  means,  will  fpread  itfelf  through  the 
whole  foul,  disfigure  the  character;^  and 
diforder  the  life ;  that  this  malignant 
principle,  while  predominant,  will  admit 
but  of  a  fhadov/y  and  delufive  femblance 
of  virtue,  which  temptation  ever  difiipates, 
and  from  which  the  heart  never  receives 
folid  comfort.  Who  can  enumerate  the 
hourly  calamities  which  the  proud,  the  felf- 
willed,  the  voluptuous,  are  infliding  on 
themfelves ;  which  rend  and  lacerate  the 
bofom,  while  no  eye  perceives   it  ?     Who 

8  can 


OF  CHRISTIANITY.  227 

can  exprefs  the  daily  difappointments  the 
alternate  fever  and  laffitude  of  him,  whofe 
heart  knows  of  no  reft,  but  what  this  dijt- 
ordered  world  can  afford  ? 

Who  then  is  happy  ?  lie  alone,  whether 
prince  or  fubjed:,  who,  through  the  power- 
ful and  falutary  influence  of  revealed  reli- 
gion on  his  heart,  is  fo  iraprefled  with  things 
invifible,  as  to  rife  fuperior  to  the  viciffitudes 
of  mortality  :  who  fo  believes  and  feels  what 
is  contained  in  the  Bible,  as  to  make  God 
his  refuge,  his  Saviour  his  truft,  and  true 
pra£lical  holinefs  the  chief  objedt  of  his 
purfuit.  To  fuch  a  one  his  Bible,  and  his 
clofet,  are  a  counterpoife  to  all  the  trials 
and  the  violence  to  which  he  may  be  ex- 
pofed.  "  Thou  Ihalt  bide  them  privily,'* 
fays  the  Pfalmift,  "  by  thine  own  prefence, 
from  the  provoking  of  all  men  ;  thou  flialt 
keep  them  fecretly  in  thy  pavilion  from  the 
ftrife  of  tongues." 


Q  3  CHAP. 


228  SCRIPTURE  EVIDENCES 


^     CHAP.  XVL 

Qn  the  Scripture  E-vidences  of  Chr'ijlianltj.--' 
The  Chrljllan  Religion  peculiarly  adapted 
io  the  Exigencies  of  Man  ;  and  efpecially 
calculated  to  fupply  the  Defeds  of  Heathen 
Philofophy, 

Xf'  Chriftlanlty  were  examined  with  atten- 
tion and  candour,  it  would  be  found  to 
contain  irrefiPdble  evidence  of  its  divine 
origin.  Thofe  who  have  formed  continued 
trains  of  argument  in  its  fupport,  have,  no 
doubt,  often  effecled  very  valuable  purpofes ; 
but  it  is  certain,  that  conviction  may  be 
attained  in  a  much  fimpler  method.  In 
fa£t^  it  would  imply  a  very  reafonable 
charge  againfl  Chriflianity,  if  its  proofs 
v/ere  of  fuch  a  nature,  that  none  but 
icholars  or  philofophers  could  feel  their 
conclufivenefs.  "^ 

A  book 


OF  CHRISTIANITY.  229 

A  book  exifts  in  the  world,  purporting 
to  contain  the  authentic  records,  and  au- 
thoritative principles  of  the  one  true  reli- 
gion. It  is  obvioufly  the  work  not  of  one 
perfon,  or  of  one  age.  Its  earliefl  pages, 
on  the  contrary,  are^  beyond  all  fober  quef- 
tion,  the  moil  ancient  writings  in  the 
world  ;  while  its  later  parts  were  confelTedly 
compofed  at  a  time  much  within  the  limits 
of  hiftoric  certainty ;  a  time  indeed,  with 
which  we  are  better  acquainted  than  with 
any  other  period  in  the  retrofped  of  ancient 
hiftory  ;  and  which,  like  a  diflant  eminence 
brightly  illuminated  by  the  rays  of  the  fun, 
is  diitin6tly  feen,  while  intermediate_tracls 
are  involved  in  impenetrable  mill. 

Againfl  the  authority  of  this  mofl  in- 
terefling  volume,  numberlefs  objeftions 
have  been  railed.  But,  who  has  yet  clearly 
and  fatisfadorlly  fliewn  how  its  exiftence, 
in  the  form  it  bears,  can  be  rationally  ac- 
counted for,  on  the  fuppofition  of  its  fpu- 
rioufnefs  ?  That  a  feries  of  records  origi- 
nating^ fo  variouflv  both  as  to  time,  occafion, 

Q  3  and 


230  SGRIPTURE  EVIDENCES 

and  circumflance,  fhould  involve  fome 
obfcurity  or  difficulty,  or  even  in  fome  in- 
ftances,  apparent  incongruity,  is  furely  no 
caufe  of  wonder :  and,  that  thefe  fhould 
be  dwelt  upon  and  exaggerated,  by  perfons 
hoftile  to  the  principles  which  the  volume 
contains,  and  v/hich  its  truth  would  efta- 
blifh,  is  mojft  natural.  But,  which  of  thcfg 
objectors  has  ever  been  able  to  fubflitute  a 
f)rfi:em  lefs  liable  to-objeclion?  Have  any 
of  them  given  a  fatisfadory  foludon  of 
the  unparalleled  difnculties  which  clog 
their  hypothefis  ?  Which  of  them  has  even 
attempted  fully  to  explain  the  fimple  phas- 
nomenon  of  fuch  a  volume  being  in  the 
world,  on  the  fuppofition  of  fabrication  or 
impofture  ? 

This  book  divides  itfelf  into  two  great 
portions,  the  firll  containing  the  account  of 
a  preparatory  religion,  given  to  a  fmgle 
nation  j  the  latter  defcribing  the  completion 
of  the  fcheme,  fo  far  as  to  fit  this  religion 
for  general  benefit,  and  unlimited  diffufion. 

Refpecting 


OF  CHRISTIANITY.  2'll 

Refpecting  the  lirft  great  portion,  which 
we  call  the  Old  Teflament,  the  leading 
features  appear  peculiarly  linking.  In. 
this  book  alone,  during  thofe  ages,  was 
maintained  the  firil  great  truth,  of  there 
being  only  one  living  and  true  God  ;  which, 
though  now  fo  univerfally  acknowledged, 
was  then  unconceived  by  the  politefl  nations, 
and  moft  accompliflied  philofophers.  -And 
refpecling  both  portions  of  this  book,  but 
efpecially  the  latter,  known  by  the  name  of 
the  New  Teftament,  this  no  lefs  interefting 
remark  is  to  be  made,  that,  in  every  ellen- 
tial  point,  nearly  the  fame  view  is  taken  of 
man's  weaknelTes  and  wants,  of  the  nature 
of  the  human  mind,  and  what  is  necelTary 
to  its  eafe  and  comfort,  as  is  taken  by  the 
wifefl  heathen  philofophers ;  with  this  mod: 
Important  difference,  however,  that  the 
chief  good  of  man,  that  pure  perennial  men- 
ial happinefs,  about  which  they  fo  much 
difcourfed,  after  which  they  fo  eagerly 
panted,  but  of  which   they  fo  confelfedly 

Q  4  failed, 


232  SCRIPTURE  EVIDENCES 

failed,  is  here   fpoken  of  fubflantially,  in 
their  notion   of    it,  as    a   bleffing  ad:ually 
fopjjed,  and  the  feeling  of  it  defcribed  in 
fuch  language  as  bears,  fo  far  as  it  is  pof- 
fible  for  human  expreffions  to  bear,  the  flamp 
of  confcious  truth  and  unfophifticated  nature. 
May  we  be  allowed,  in   this  connexion, 
to  give  a  fuperficial  {ketch  of  the  defefts 
in  the  fyftem  of  the  ancient  philofophers  ? 
The  belief  in  a  life  to  come  was  confined 
to  a  few,  and  even  in  them  this  behef  was 
highly  defeftive.     Thofe   who  alTerted   it, 
maintained    it    only   in   a   fneculative   and 
fceptical  way  ;  and  it  v/ould  not  be  eafy  to 
produce    an   inflancc    of    their  ufmg  any 
doclrine  of  rewards  and  punifliments  in  a 
future  ftate,  as  their  inftrument  in  promoting 
■virtue.     They  decorated  their  fyilem  with 
beautiful  fayings,  on  the  immortality  of  the 
foul ;  but  they  did  not  fupport  it  upon  this 
bafis.     There  was,  therefore,  no  foundation 
to  their   fabric.     Poetry,  indeed,  had   her 
Elyfium   and   her  Tartarus.      It   appears, 

howeverg 


OF  CHRISTIANITY.  233 

however,  that  the  philofophy  of  Greece  and 
Rome,  in  proportion  as  it  advanced,  dimi- 
niflied  the  ftrength  of  the  impreffion  which 
the  poets  had  made  on  the  minds  of  the 
vulgar  ;  and  thus  the  very  religion  of  the. 
fages  tended  to  leflen  among  the  people  the 
fenfe  of  a  future  refponfibility. 

The  ancient  philofophers  had  no  idea  of 
Vfc'hat  we  defignate  by  the  name  of  the  grace 
Old  mercy  of  God.  They  had  fome  con- 
ception of  his  bounty,  of  his  providential 
care,  of  all  his  natural  perfeftions  ;  and  of 
fome  even  of  his  moral  excellencies  ;  for 
example,  of  his  benevolence  and  juftice. 
But  their  united  wifdom  never  framed  a  fen- 
tence  like  that  in  which  the  true  God  was 
revealed  to  Mofes  :  "  The  Lord,  the  Lord 
God,  merciful  and  gracious,  forgiving  ini- 
quity, tranfgreffion,  and  fm,  and  that  will 
by  no  means  clear  the  guilty.'*  It  is  on 
this  part  of  the  character  of  God,  that  the 
Scripture  is  fo  abundantly  full.  This  ig- 
norance of  the  mercy  of  God  affociated 
itfelf  in   the  Heathens,  with  much   other 

religious 


234  SCRIPTURE  EVIDENCES 

religious  and  moral  biindiiefs.  From  this 
ignorance,  that  God  v/as  merciful,  their 
only  means  of  perfuading  themfelves  that 
they  were  in  his  favour,  was  to  alTume  that 
they  were  upright.  And,  who  can  eftimate 
the  moral  confequences  of  an  habitual  effort 
to  repi^efent  to  ourfelves  aii  our  own  ac- 
tions, as  not  having  any  of  the  guilt  of 
iin^  and  as  not  impeaching  our  claims  to 
the  juflice  of  the  Almighty  ?  The  lofty  fen- 
timent,  that  they  were  themfelves  a  fpecies 
of  Gods,  was  fometimes  reforted  to,  at  once 
as  a  fource  of  felf-complacency,  and  as  the 
fuppofed  means  of  virtue.  The  Stoic  af- 
feded  to  rife  fuperior  to  the  temptations  of 
the  body,  to  foar  above  all  fenfe  of  guilt, 
and  all  dread  of  pain,  by  the  aid  of  an  ex- 
travagant, and  almoil  atheiflical  fentiment, 
which  was  oppofite  to  common-fenfe,  and 
fubverfive  of  all  true  humility,  a  quality 
which  is  the  very  bafis  of  Chriftian  virtue. 
He  was  his  own  God  :  for  he  affumed  to 
himfelf  to  be  able,  by  his  own  flrength,  if 

he 


OF  CHRISTIANITY.  235 

he  would  but  exert  it,  to  triumph  over 
fortune  ;  in  other  words,  over  Providence, 
over  pain,  fear,  and  death  itfelf;  and  to 
rife,  by  the  fame  ftrength,  into  a  participa- 
tion of  the  nature  of  the  Eternal.  Thus, 
as  an  eminent  wriLcr  has  obferved,  '•  thofe 
who  endeavoured  to  cure  voluptuoufnefs, 
reforted  to  pride  as  the  means  of  virtue/* 
In  the  latter  ages,  indeed,  not  a  few  appear 
to  have  been  at  once  elated  by  Stoical  pride, 
and  diffolved  in  Epicurean  luxury. 

Their  doftrine  even  of  a  Providence, 
connefted  as  it  was  with  the  merelv  rnun- 
dane  fyftem,  led  to  much  mifconception  of 
the  nature  of  true  morality,  and  to  grofs 
fuperllition.  From  ignorance  of  future  re- 
tribution, they  imagined  that  virtue  and 
vice  received  their  exaO;  recompence  bere. 
They  were  religious,  therefore,  even  to 
fuperftition,  in  afiuming  the  exiftence  of 
providential  interferences  in  the  cafe  of  the 
commiffion  of  palpable  crimes  ;  and  they 
were  tempted  to  efteem  thcfe  adiions,  how- 
ever 


2^6  SCRIPTURE  EVIDENCES 

ever  finful,  to  be  no  oJ3:ences  againft  God, 
which  God  did  not  mark  by  fome  temporal 
puniiliment  *. 

Such  appear  to  have  been  fome  of  the 
chief  deficiencies  of  the  heathen  fyflem  ;  a 
fyllem  which  flrongly  points  out  the  want 
of  fuch  a  hght  as  that  which  the  Gofpel 
affords.  T  he  philofophers  themfelves  feemed 
confcious  of  fome  great  defe£l,  and  thus  the 
very  revelation  which  Chriftianity  has  fur- 
niilied,  fupplied  all  that  was  neceffary  to 
man,  and  comes  recommended  by  the  ac- 
knowledged occafion  for  it. 

How  ftriking  are  the  peculiarities,  how 
obvious  the  fuperiority,  which,  even  on  a 
firft  attentive  perufal,  fill  the  mind  of  the 
ferious  reader  of  the  Scripture  !  But  what 
infidel  writer  has  fo  much  as  taken  its 
moft  obvious  fads  into  fober  confidera- 
tion  ?  who   has  attempted  to  explain  how 

*  A  ftriking  inftance  of  this  difpofition  to  abufe 
tlie  do£lrine  of  Providence,  was  exhibited  in  the  fpeech 
of  Nicias  to  his  loldiers,  after  they  were  defeated  at 
Syracufe. 

the 


OF  CHRISTIANITY,  23/ 

the  writers  of  the  Old  Teflainent   fhould 
diiFer   as    they    have    done    from    all  the 
writers  in  the  world,  not  only  in  maintain- 
ing fo  pure  a  theology,  but  in  connefting 
with  it  a  national   hiflorv,   throuo^h  which 
that    theology   paffes    as  a   chain,  binding 
together  and  identifying   itfelf   with   their 
whole  fyflem,    civil    and  religious  ?     This 
hiftory,  involving  fupernatural  events,  may 
be  a  reafon  why  the  wilful  infidel  lliould 
rejed  it  without  examination.     But  let  him 
who  pretends  to  candour,  attentively  con- 
fider  thefe  records,  and  try  if  he  can  pro- 
jecb  even  an  outline  of  Jewifh  hiftory,  from 
which  thofe  miraculous  interpofitions  fhall 
be  confiftently  excluded.     There  are  fads 
in  this  narration  which  cannot  be  difputed  : 
the   Jews   nccefTarily   having  a   hiftory   as 
well  as  other  nations.     Let  the  fober  infidel, 
then,  endeavour  to  make  out  for  them  an 
hypothetic  hiftory,   in  which,  leaving  out 
every  thing  miraculous,  all  the  felf-evident 
phzcnomena   fliall  be   accounted  for    with 
philofophic  plaufibihty.     If  this  be  pofTible, 
Q  why 


238  SCRIPTURE  EVIDENCES 

why  has  it  not  been  attempted  ?  But  if  this 
be  really  impradicable,  I  mean,  if  thefe 
events  do  aftually  fo  make  up  the  body  of 
their  national  hiftory,  that  no  hillory 
would  be  left,  if  they  were  to  be  taken 
away ;  then  let  •  fome  farther  theory  be 
devifcd,  to  explain  how  a  hiftory,  thus  ex- 
clufivcly  ftrange^  fhould  fland  connected 
with  a  theology  as  exclufively  true  ?  Let 
the  fober  deifl:  prove,  if  he  can,  that  it 
was  unworthy  of  the  God  of  nature  to 
diflinguifh,  by  fuch  extraordinary  inter- 
ferences, that  nation,  which  alone,  of  all 
the  nations  of  the  earth,  acknowledged 
him ;  or  let  him  feparate,  if  he  be  able, 
that  national  recognition  of  the  true  God 
from  their  belief  of  thofe  diflinguifhing  in- 
terpofitions.  If  they  alone  acknowledged 
the  rightful  fovereign  of  the  univerfe,  who 
believed  that  that  fovereign  had  fignally 
manifefted  himfelf  in  their  behalf,  can  the 
deift  fhew  that  the  belief  of  the  events 
was  not  effential  to  the  acknowledgment 
of  the  fuppofed  author  of  them  ?     Or  will 

he 


OF  CHRISTIANITY,  £39 

he  affert,  that  the  eflabliihment  of  fuch  a 
truth  amongft  that  people,  who  have  fmce 
actually  communicated  it  to  fo  many  other 
men,  perhaps  to  all,  deifts  not  excepted,, 
who  really  do  embrace  it  ;  I  fay,  will  he 
foberly  alTert  that  fuch  a  purpofe  did  not 
jufcly  and  conuilcntly  warrant  the  very  kind 
of  interpofition,  v/hich  the  Jcwifli  hillor)- 
prefents  ? 

But  let  the  honeft  infidel,  if  fuch  there 
be,  take  further  into  the  account  the 
manner  in  which  the  maintaiaers  of  tha 
one  true  God  have  asSled  upon  that  be- 
lief. Let  him  examine  the  principles  ol 
the  Jewifn  mcrdlijis^  and  fee  where  elfe, 
in  the  ancient  world,  the  genuine  interells 
of  virtue  are  fo  practically  provided  for. 
Let  him  read  the  fublime  and  mofi:  cordial 
effufions  of  the  Old  Teflament  poefs,  and 
fay,  where  elfe  the  Author  of  Being,  and 
of  all  good,  is  fo  fully  recognized,  or  fo 
fuitably  adored  ?  Let  him  confider  the 
expoflulation  of  the  prophets,  and  the  lelf- 
criminaling  records   of  the   bi/lofian,  and 

find 


240  SCRIPTURE  EVIDENCES 

find   for  them  any   fhadow  of  parallel  in 
the  hiftory  of  mankind.     Let  the  man  of 
ge?iius  obferve  how  the  minds  of  the  writers 
were  elevated,  on  what  a  ftrong  and  Heady 
pinion  they  feared.     Let  the  man  of  virtue 
refle£l   how  deeply  their  hearts  were   en- 
gaged ;  and  let  the  man  of  /earning  com- 
pare what  he  reads  here  with  all  that  has 
come  from  Heathen  poets,  fages,  or  law- 
givers ;    and  then,  let   it  be  foberly   pro- 
nounced, whether  it  is  conceivable  that  all 
this  lliould    exift,    without   fome  adequate 
caufe,    and,  whether  any  caufe   can  be  fo 
rationally  afTigned,  as  that  which  their  ve- 
nerable lawgiver  has  himfelf  expreffed,  in 
terms  the  mofl  critically  appofite,   and  the 
mod  unaifecledly  impreffive  ?  "  Afk  now," 
fays  he,  "of  the  days  that  are  paft,  which 
"  were  before  thee,  fmce  the  day  that  God 
"  created  man  upon  earth ;  and  afk  from 
*'  the  one  fide  of  heaven  to  the  other,  whe- 
"  ther  there  hath  been  any  fuch  thino-  as 
"  this  great  thing  is,   or  hath  been  heard 
"  like  it  ?     Did  exor  people  hear  the  voice 

"of 


<( 


OF    CHRISTIANITY.  24I 

^'  of  God,  fpeaking  out  of  the  midft  of 
"  the  fire  as  thou  haft  heard,  and  live? 
*'  or  has  God  alTayed  to  go  and  take  him  a 
*'  nation  from  the  midft  of  another  nation, 
by  temptations,  by  figns,  and  by  won- 
ders, and  by  war,  and  by  an  out-ftretched 
arm,  and  by  great  terrors,  according  to 
"  all  that  the  Lord  your  God  did  for  you, 
in  Egypt,  before  your  eyes  ?  Unto  thee 
it  was  fhewn  that  the  Lord  He  is  God ; 
**  there  is  none  elfe  befide  him.  Know, 
**  therefore,  this  day,  and  confider  it  in 
"  thine  heart,  that  the  Lord  He  is  God ; 
"  in  heaven  above,  and  upon  the  earth  be- 
"  neath,  there  is  none  elfe." 

If  fuch  be  the  inevitable  conclufion  re- 
fpedlng  the  Old  Teftament,  how  much 
more  irrefiftible  muft  be  the  impreftion 
made  by  the  New  !  The  peculiarity  which 
was  adverted  to  above,  ought,  even  in  the 
eye  of  a  philofophical  inquirer,  to  engage 
deep  attention.  I  mean,  that  that  to  which 
heathen  fages  pointed,  as  the  only  valuable 
object  of  human  purfuit,  is,  in  this  wonder- 
voi..  I.  R.  ful 


242  SCRIPTURE    EVIDENCES 

ful  volume,    defcribed  as  matter  o{  pojfef' 
fion.     Here,    and  here  only,   amongft    all 
the  records  of  human  feelings,  is  happincfs 
ferioufly  claimed,  and  confiflently  exempli- 
fied.     To  the  importance    of  this   point, 
witnefs  is  borne  by  every  w^ifh  which  a  hu- 
man being  forms,  and  by  every  figh  which 
heaves  his  bofom.     But,  it  is  a  fadl,  per- 
haps not  yet  fufficiently  adverted  to,  that 
at   no   period    do    heathen   fages   feem  fo 
flrongly  to  have  felt  the  utter  inefficiency 
of    all    their    fchemes    for    attaining    this 
cbjefl:,  as  at  the  period  when  the  light  of 
Chriflianity  diffufed  itfelf  through  the  earth. 
Cicero,  that  brighteil  of  Roman  lumina- 
ries, had  not  only  put  his  countrymen  in 
polfeffion  of  the  fubllance  of  Grecian  wif- 
dom,  to  which  his  own  rich  eloquence  gave 
new  force  and  luftre,  but   he  had  added 
thereto  the  deep  refults  of  his  own  obferva- 
tions,  during  a  life  of  the  mod  diverfified 
experience,  in  a  period  the  moft  eventful. 
And,  to  this  point,  he  uniformly  brings  all 
his   difquifitions,    that    man  can  only  be 

happy 


OF    CHRISTIANITY.  243 


v>> 


happy  by  a  co?iqueJi  over  himfelf ;  by  fome 
energetic  principle  of  wifdom  and  virtue 
fo  eflablifhed  in  his  bofom,  as  to  make 
him  habitually  fuperior  to  every  wrong 
paflion,  to  every  criminal  or  weak  defire, 
to  the  attraftions  of  pleafure,  and  the 
fhocks  of  calamity.  But  it  was  not  Cicero 
only,  who  reded  in  this  conclufion:  Horace, 
the  gayeft  of  the  Latin  poets,  is  little  lefs 
explicit  in  his  acknowledgm.ent,  that  man 
lliould  then  only  find  eafe  when  he  had 
learnt  the  art  of  jlying^  in  a  moral fenfe^  from 
himfelf. 

To  the  fentiment  of  a  great  philofopher 
and  poet,  let  us  add  that  of  a  no  lefs  emi- 
nent hiftorian.  Polybius  fays,  "  It  feems 
*'  that  men,  who,  in  the  praftice  of  craft 
*'  and  fubtilty,  exceed  ail  other  animals, 
"  may,  with  good  rcafon,  be  acknowledged 
"  to  be  no  lefs  depraved  than  theyj  for 
"  other  animals  are  fubfervient  only  to  the 
**  appetites  of  the  body,  and  by  them  are 
'*  led  to  do  wrong.  But  men,  who  have 
**  alfo  fentiment  to  guide  them,  are  guilty 

R  a  *'  of 


244  SCRIPTURE    EVIDENCES 

"  of  ill  conduft,  not  lefs  through  the  abule 
"  of  their  acquired  reafon,  than  from  the 
"  force  of  their  natural  delires  *." 

Although,  therefore,  the  dodrine  of 
human  depravity  be,  flriclly  fpeaking,  a 
tenet  peculiar  to  Revelation,  fmce  it  is  the 
Bible  alone  which  teaches  how  fm  entered 
into  the  world,  and  death,  with  all  its 
attendant  woes  and  miferies,  by  fin;  though 
it  is  there  alone  that  we  difcover  the  ob- 
fcurity  and  confufion  which  there  is  in  the 
underflanding  of  the  natural  man,  the 
crookednefs  of  his  will,  and  the  diforder  of 
his  affections  j  though  it  is  there  alone 
that  we  are  led  to  the  origin,  and,  blefled 
be  God,  to  the  remedy  of  this  difeafe,  in 
that  renewal  of  our  nature,  which  it  is  the 
peculiar  office  of  the  holy  Spirit  to  effect ; 
yet,  the  wifer  and  more  difcerning  among 
the  heathens  both  felt  and  acknowledged, 
in  no  inconfiderable  degree,  the  thing  itfelf. 
They  experienced  not  a  little  of  the  general 

*  Hampton's  Polybiys,  Book  17.  p.  393. 

weight 


OF    CHRISTIANITY.  245 

weight  and  burthen  of  the  efFeft,  though 
they  were  flill  puzzled  and  confounded  in 
their  inquiry  after  the  caufe.  And  their 
continual  difappointment  here  was  an  ad.- 
ditional  fource  of  convidion,  that  the 
malady,  which  they  painted  in  the  deepeft 
colourings  of  language,  did  exift.  They 
feemed  to  have  a  perception,  that  there 
was  an  objed:  foniewhere,  which  might  re- 
medy thefe  diforders,  aid  thefe  infirmities, 
fatisfy  thefe  defires,  and  bring  all  their 
thoughts  and  faculties  into  a  due  obedience 
and  happy  regulation.  They  had  a  dawn- 
ing on  their  minds,  that  a  capacity  for  hap- 
pinefs  was  not  entirely  loft,  nor  the  objeft 
to  fill  and  fatisfy  it  quite  out  of  reach.  In 
fad,  they  felt  the  greatnefs  of  the  human 
mind,  but  they  felt  it  as  a  vaft  vacuity,  in 
which,  after  all,  they  could  find  nothing 
but  phantoms  of  happinefs,  and  realities  of 
mifery. 

To  thefe  deep-toned  complaints,  in  which 
all  forts  and  conditions  of  men  united, 
Chriftianity  comes  forward    to    make   the 

R  3  fir  ft 


£4^  SCRIPTURE    EVIDENCES 

firfl  propofitions  of  relief.  She  recognizes 
every  want  and  weaknefs  precifely  as  thefe 
fages  reprefented  it ;  and  {lie  confidently 
offers  the  very  rerAedy  for  which  they  fo 
loudly  called.  Her  profefled  object  is  to 
eftablilh,  in  the  human  mind,  that  collateral 
principle  of  virtuous  and  happy  fuperiority 
to  every  thing  earthly,  fenfual,  or  felfifh,  on 
which  philofophy  had  fo  long  fixed  its 
anxious,  but  hopelefs  defires,  and  to  which 
alone  it  looked  for  real  felicity. 

In  this  view,  then,  Chriftianity  refls  her 
pretenfions,  not  merely  on  hiflorical  evi- 
dences, however  fatisfactory,  nor  on  the  fide- 
lity of  fuccefTive  tranfcribers,  however  capa- 
ble of  proof  J  butj  on  a  much  more  internal^ 
and  even  more  conclufive  title,  its  exqui- 
fite  correfpondence  to  the  exigences  of  hu^ 
man  nature,  as  illuflrated  by  the  wifefl  of 
all  ages  and  nations,  and  as  felt  by  every 
reflecting  child  of  mortality. 

Let,  then,  the  deepeft  fentiments  of  hea- 
then philofophers  and  poets,  refpeding 
human  nature,  be  difpalTionately  compared 

with 


OF    CHRISTIANITY.  247 

with  thofe  expreffions  of  -our  bleffed  Sa- 
viour, in  which  he  particularly  defcribes  the 
benefits  to  be  enjoyed  by  his  faithful  fol- 
lowers ;  and  let  it  be  judged,  whether  there 
is  not  fuch  a  correfpondence  between  what 
they  want,  and  what  be  profcjfes  to  bejlow, 
as  occurs  in  no  other  inflance  in  the  intel- 
lectual world. — Reji  for  their  fouls,  is  what 
they  anxioufly  fought :  and,  a  burning 
fever  of  the  mind,  in  which  corroding  care, 
infatiable  defire,  perpetual  difappointment, 
unite  in  torturing,  is  the  malady  of  which 
they  uniformly  complain.  Is  it  not  then 
wonderful  to  hear  our  Saviour  fo  admirably 
adapt  his  language  to  their  very  feelings  ? 
Come  unto  me,**  fays  he,  "  all  ye  that 
labour,  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will 
give  you  reJl. — Take  my  yoke  upon  you, 
and  learn  of  me,  and  ye  fhall  find  rejl 
to  your  fouls.** — "  He  that  drinketh  of 
*'  this  water,  fhall  thirfl  again,**  intimating 
by  this  very  exprefTion,  the  infufHciency 
of  every  thing  earthly  to  fatisfy  the  mind, 
<<  but  he  that  drinketh  of  the  water  that  I 

R  4  "  iliaU 


(( 


248  SCRIPTURE    EVIDENCES 

*'  fhall  give  him,  fhall  never  third  ;  but 
'*  the  water  that  I  fhall  give,  fliall  be  in  him 

a  well  of  water  fpringing  up  into  everlafl- 

ing  life." 

Whoever  is  acquainted  with  the  lan- 
guage of  the  ancient  philofophers  muil  fee, 
that  in  thefe  exprellions  our  Saviour  meets 
their  wifhes ;  we  do  not  mean  to  fay,  that 
they  had  or  could  have  any  right  appre- 
henfions  of  that  preliminary  abafement 
which  the  Scripture  calls  repentance,  and 
which  was  to  put  them  in  poiTefFion  of  the 
reft  and  peace  for  which  they  fought,  and 
which  Chrift  does  adually  beftow.  We 
do  not  mean  to  fay,  that  the  pride  of  un- 
alTifled  nature  could  allov;  them  to  fee 
that  they  v/ere  indeed  objecls  of  pure 
mercy  on  the  part  of  God  ;  and  that  their 
knowledge  of  themfelves,  or  of  him,  could 
be  fuch  as  to  bring  the  real  fpirit  of  their 
wilhes  to  any  adual  coincidence  with  the 
wonderful  means,  which  God^  in  his  good- 
nefs,  had  devifed  to  fatisfy  ihem.  Though 
they  did  occafionally  exprefs  a  feiifc  of  an 

evil 


OF    CHRISTIAyiTY.  249 

evil  nature,  and  a  wifh  for  relief  from  it, 
yet  who  but  the  author  of  our  religion 
ever  met  thofe  wifhes  ?  In  what  other  in- 
flance  has  a  moral  phyfician  thus  pledged 
himfelf  to  relieve  agonized  human  nature  ? 
If  there  be  no  fuch  inflance,  the  conclufion 
is  inevitable :  that  Chriftianity,  from  the 
deep  importance,  as  well  as  the  unrivalled 
Angularity  of  its  overtures,  juftly  claims 
our  mod  ferious  inquiry,  whether  what  has 
been  thus  promifed  has  been  actually  ac- 
compHflied. 

Chriftianity  has  amply  provided  for  this 
natural  demand ;  for  it  has  been  ordered, 
that  while  the  New  Teftament  contains 
every  principle  neceflary  for  the  attainment 
of  human  happincfs,  it  fhould  alfo  give  us 
a  perfed  fpecimen  of  its  own  efficacy. 
This  we  accordingly  have  in  the  fully  deli- 
neated character  of  the  Apoftle  St.  Paul. 
There  is,  perhaps,  no  human  perfon  in  all 
antiquity,  of  whofe  inmoft  feelings,  as  well 
as  outward  demeanor,  w^e  are  fo  well 
enabled  to  judge,  as  of  this  great  Chriftian 

teacher. 


-350  SCRIPTURE    EVIDENCES 

teacher.  The  particulars  refpeding  him  in 
the  Acls  of  the  Apoftles,  compared  with, 
and  illuflrated  by,  his  own  invaluable 
Epiflles,  make  up  a  full-length  portrait' o|^ 
him,  in  which  no  lineament  is  wanting. 
And,  the  wifdom  of  God,  in  this  fmgle  ar- 
rangement;, has  furniflied  a  body  of  evidence 
in  fupport,  both  of  the  truth  and  the  efficacy 
of  our  holy  religion,  which,  when  attentively 
examined,  will  ever  fatisfy  the  fmcere,  and 
filence  the  caviller. 

The  numberlefs  minute  and  unobvious 
coincidences  between  the  narrative  and  the 
Epiflles,  have  been  fo  illuftrated  in  a  late 
invaluable  work  *,  as  to  make  the  authenti- 
city of  both  matter  of  abfolute  demonftra- 
t'lon ;  and,  from  fuch  an  inftance  of  Chriflian 
influence,  thus  authenticated,  the  pretenfions 
of  Chrillianity  itfelf  may  be  brought  to  a 
fummary  and  unequivocal  tefl. 

Was  St.  Paul,  then,  or  was  he  not,  an 
exemplification  of  that  nobly-imagined  wife 

*  Paley's  Horse  Paulinie. 

man» 


OF    CHRISTIANITY.  £51 

man,  which  the  heathen  philofophers  had 
pifturcd  to  themfelves,  as  the  height  of 
human  felicity  ?  Does  he  appear  to  have 
found  that  reft,  for  which  fages  panted, 
and  which  his  divine  Mafter  purpofed  to 
beflow  ?  Did  he  poffefs  that  virtuous  and 
happy  fuperiority  to  every  thing  earthly, 
fenfual,  and  felfilh,  which  was  acknowledged 
to  conftitute  the  very  elTence  of  true  philo- 
fophy  ?  Let  him  that  underftands  human 
nature  read,  and  anfwer  for  himfelf.— -Let 
him  collect  all  that  has  been  fpc^cen  on  this 
fubje6t  by  Socrates  or  Plato,  by  Cicero  or 
Seneca,  by  Epi^letus  or  Marcus  Antoninus, 
and  judge  coolly,  whether  St.  Paul  does  not 
fabftantialiy  exemplify,  and,  I  may  add,  in- 
fmitely  out-do  it  all  ? 

Horace  has  celebrated  the  fortitude  of 
Regulus,  in  one  of  his  mcft  animated  odes  j 
but  it  may  mod  foberly  be  alked,  what  was 
tlio  fortitude  of  this  Pagan  hero,  when 
compared  with  that  which  was  unconfci- 
oufly  difplaycd  by  St.  Paul  in  his  way  to 
Jerufalem  ?     Regulus,  we  are  told,  would 

not 


252  SCRIPTURE    EVIDENCES 

not  turn  his  eyes  toward  his  wife  or  his 
children.  In  his  heroifm,  therefore,  he 
fmks  his  humanity.  Not  fo  our  Apoflle ; 
while  he  fears  nothing  for  himfelf,  he  feels 
every  thing  for  thofe  around  him.  *'  What 
"  mean  ye  thus  to  weep,  and  to  break  my 
"  heart,"  fays  he,  "  for  I  am  ready,  not 
*'  to  be  bound  only,  but  to  die  at  Jerufa- 
*'  lem,  for  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jefus." 
If  this  be  not  perfed  magnanimity,  where 
was  it  ever  exhibited  ? 

I  will  add  but  two  Inflances. — One  ex- 
preffing  the  feelings  which  were  habitual 
to  himfelf;  the  other  defcribing  that  per- 
fection of  goodnefs,  which  he  wifhed  to 
be  purfued  by  others :  and  let  the 
learned  infidel  find,  if  he  can;^  a  parallel 
for  either.  In  fpeaking  of  himfelf,  after 
acknowledging  an  ad  of  friendfhip  in  thofe 
to  whom  he  writes,  he  fays,  "  Not  as  though 
"  I  fpeak  in  refped  of  want,  for  I  have 
"  learned  in  whatfoever  flate  I  am,  there- 
'^  with  to  be  content.  I  know  both  how 
"to   be   abafed,    and    I    know    how    to 

"  abound. 


OF    CMRISTIANITV.  ^^^ 

"•  abound.     I   am  inftrucled    both    to   be 
"  full  and  to  be  hungry,  both  to  abound 
"  and  to  fuffer  need.     I  can  do  all  thino-s 
*'  through  Chrift  which  flrengtheneth  me." 
What   a   teftimonial    this   to   the   faithful- 
nefs  of  the  offer  of  our  Saviour,  to  which 
we  have  already  referred  !     How  ccnfum- 
matelv  does  it  evince,  that  when   he   en- 
gaged  to  fulfil  that  deepeft  of  human  de- 
fires,  the  thirft   of  happinefs,  he  promifed 
no   more    than    he    was   infinitely  able  to 
perform !      The   ApoHle's    exhortation    to 
others,  is    no    lefs   worthy   of  attention. — 
"  Pinally,  brethren,  whatfoever  things  are 
"  true,  whatfoever  things  are  honeft,  what- 
foever things  are  juft,  whatfoever  things 
are  pure,  whatfoever  things  are  lovely, 
whatfoever  things  are  of  good  report — 
"  If  there  be  any  virtue,  if  there  be  any 
"  praife,  think  on  thefe  things."     In  v^hat 
human  words   did    genuine    moral    feeling 
ever  more  completely  embody  itfelf  ?     Are 
they  not,  as  it  were,  the  very  foul  and  body 
of  true  philofophy  ?     But  what  philofopher, 

before 


254  SCRIPTURE    EVIDENCES 

before  him,  after  fuch  a  leffon  to  his 
pupils,  could  have  dared  to  add  the  words 
which  immediately  follow  ? — "  The  things 
"  which  ye  have  both  learned  and  received, 
*'  and  heard  and  feen  in  me,  do,  and  the 
"  God  of  peace  fhall  be  with  you." 

This  is  a  moll  imperfed  portion  of  that 
body  of  internal  evidence,  which  even  the 
moft  general  view  of  Chriflianity  prelTes 
on  the  attentive  and  candid  mind :  and 
■with  even  this  before  us,  may  it  not  be 
boldly  afked,  what  eife  hke  this  has  come 
within  human  knowledge  ?  On  thefe  cha- 
ra£ters  of  the  gofpel  then,  let  the  infidei 
fairly  try  his  ftrength.  Let  him  difprove, 
if  he  can,  the  correfpondence  between  the 
wifhes  of  philofophy,  and  the  achievements 
of  Chriflianit*;  or  deftroy  the  identity  of 
that  common  view  of  man's  chief  good,  and 
pai'amount  happinefs.  Let  him  account,  if 
he  can,  for  thefe  unexampled  congruities, 
on  any  other  ground  than  that  of  the  truth 
of  Chriftianity ;  or  let  him  even  plaufibly 
dude    the  matter-of-facl   evidence  to  this 

truth. 


OF    CHRISTIANITY.  2^^ 

truth,  which  arlfes  from  St.  Paul's  cha- 
ra»5len  In  the  mean  time,  let  the  pious 
Chriftian  enjoy  his  fober  triumph,  in  that 
fyftem,  which  not  in  St.  Paul  only,  but  in  all 
its  true  votaries,  in  every  age  and  nation,  i£ 
has  produced — "  a  hope  full  of  immorta- 
lity,"— "  a  peace  which  pafleth  all  under- 
ftanding," — "  a  wifdom  pure  and  peace- 
able, gentle  and  eafy  to  be  entreated,  full 
"  of  mercy  and  of  good  fruits,  without 
"  partiality,  and  without  hypocrify." 

If  any  difficulty,  attendiiig  particular 
doftrines  of  ChrifHanity,  fliould  prelent 
itfelf ;  it  will  be  well  firfl:  to  inquire,  whe- 
ther the  doctrine  in  queflion  be  re^illy 
Chriftian  ?  and  this  can  only  be  determined 
by  a  difpafllonate  and  impartial  recurrence 
to  the  Scriptures  themfclves,  particular! v 
the  New  Teftament.  Whatever  is  clearly 
afferted  there,  follows  inevitably  from  ilie 
fftabhlhed  divinity  of  that  which  contains 
it.  And  in  vvhat  conceivable  cafe  can, 
not  only  humility,  but  rational  confiilency, 
be  more  wifely  cxerciled,  than  in  receiv- 


I  o  mg^ 


256  SCRIPTURE    EVIDENCES 

ing,  without  queflion,  the  obvious  parts^ 
and  then  no  doubt  can  be  entertained 
refpefting  the  whole.  Happy  had  it  been 
for  the  Chriflian  world,  had  this  felf- 
evident  maxim  been  practically  attended 
to  ;  for  then  what  difpute  could  polTibly 
have  ariien  about — "  that  Word  which 
"  was  made  flefh,  and  dwelt  among  us, 
"  being  alfo  God  over  all,  blelTed  for 
"  evermore  ?"  Or  whether  the  Father, 
the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghoft,  in  whofe 
name  we  are  baptized,  muft  not  be  alike 
effentially  divine  ?  Or  whether  there  <:an 
be  any  mifconception  in  what  the  redeemed 
in  heaven  make  the  fubjeO:  of  their  eternal 
fong  :  "  that  the  Lamb,  which  was  fiain, 
*'  had  redeemed  them  to  God  by  his  blood, 
"  out  of  every  kindred,  and  tongue,  and 
*'  people,  and  nation  ?" 

That  plain  and  fnnple  readers  think  they 
find  each  of  tliefe  doctrines  clearly  fet 
forth  In  the  facred  volume,  is  a  matter  of 
fact,  authenticated  by  abundant  evidence ; 
and  that,  where  thsy  have  been  difputed, 
3  thofe 


,OF  CHR,ISTIANiJV»  ^57 

Ahofe  who   have  agreed  in  holding  them, 
Jhave  evidently  derived  a  deeper  influence 
from  Chriflianitv,  both  as  to  the  condudl  of 
their  lives,  and  the  comfort  of  their  minds, 
than  thqfe  who  have  rejeded   them,---if  it 
could  not  be  fubflantiated  by  innumerable 
proofs,  would  be  almoft  felf-evident,  on  a 
merely  theoretic  vie^y  of  the.two  cafes.    For 
who  ever  derived  either  pradical  flrength, 
or  mental  comfort,  from  indulging  a  habi^ 
of  metaphyfical  difquifition ,?    And  who  but 
•fuch   have,   in    any    age   of  the   ^church, 
.queftioned   the  dodlrines  qf  our  Saviour's 
.divinity,    the  three-fold  4iftindion  in  the 
divine  nature^,  or  the  expiatory  efficacy  of 
,Ghrifl;*s  one  oblation  of  him f elf ^  07ice  offered fcr 
the  fins  of  the  ivhole  u^orld  ? 

The  Scriptures  are.fo  explicit  oji  the  Ufl- 
mentioned  great  doftrine  of  our  rejigion^ 
jthat  we  are  not  left  to  infer  its  truth  an^ 
certainty,  as  we  might  almoft  do  from  the 
obvious  exigences  of  human  nature.  Tha^ 
guilt  is  one  of  the  deepeft:  of  the  natura^l 
.fteiings,   will  not  be  difputed  j   ajad,  that 

VOL.  I.  3  '  '     the 


258  SCRIPTURE    EVIDENCES 

the  fenfe  of  guilt  has  been,   in  every  age 
and  nation  a  fource  of  the  deepeft  horrors, 
and  has  fuggefled  even  ftill  more  horrible 
methods  of  appeafmg  the  perturbed  mind, 
can   be   queflioned   by  none,  who   is   ac- 
quainted, however  flightly,  with  the  hiftory 
of  the  world.     Atheifts  in  Pagan  countries 
have  made  this  very  fa£l  the  great  apology 
for  their  impiety,  charging  upon  religion 
itfelf  the   difmal   fuperftitions,    which   ap- 
peared  to   them  to  arife   from   it.      And 
Plutarch,  one  of  the  moft  enlightened  of 
heathen    moralifts,    concludes    that    even 
Atheifm  itfelf  is  preferable  to  thai  fuperfli- 
tious   dread   of  the   gods,    which  he   faw 
impelling   fo    many    wretched    victims   to 
daily  and  hourly  felf-torture.     The  fa6t  is, 
no  mifery  incident  to  man  involves  either 
greater  depth,  or  complication,  than  that 
of  a  guilty  confcience. — -And  a  fyftem  of 
religion,  which  would  have  left  this  unpro- 
vided for,  we  may  venture  to  pronounce, 
would  have  been  utterly  unfuitable  to  man, 

,    and, 


OF   CHRISTIANITY.  2^g 

and,  therefore,  utterly  unworthy  of  the  wif- 
dom  and  goodnefs  of  God. 

How  appofitely  then  to  this  awful  feel- 
ing, does  the  dodrine  of  the  atonement 
come  into  the  Chriflian  fyftem  !  How 
aftonifhingly  has  even  its  general  belief 
chafed  from  the  Chriflian  world  thofe  fu« 
perftitious  phantoms  with  which  Paganifm 
ever  -has  been,  and  even  at  this  day  is, 
haunted  !  But  above  all,  what  relief  has  it 
afforded  to  the  humble  penitent  !  "  This,^* 
faid  the  pious  Melandhon,  "  can  only  be 
"  underftood  in  conflids  of  confcience.'*  It 
is  moft  true.  Let  thofe,  therefore,  who 
have  never  felt  fuch  conflicts,  beware  how 
they  defpife  what  they  may  yet  be  impelled 
to  refort  to,  as  the  only  certain  flay  and 
prop  of  their  finking  fpirits.  '*  It  is  a  fearful 
"  thing,"  fays  an  infpu-ed  writer,  "  to  fall 
•'  mto  the  hands  of  the  living  God." 
Againfl  this  fear,  to  what  refource  could 
we  trufl,  but  that  which  the  mercy  of  God 
has  no  lefs  clearly  revealed  to  us  ?  *'  Seeing, 

s  2  **  then 


26o      SCRIPTURE    EVIDENCES^  &C. 

<!*  then,  that  we  have  a  great  high  prieil 
"  that  is  paffed  for  us  into  the  heavens, 
"  Jiefus  tiie  fon  of  God,  let  us  hold  fad  our 
**  profeflion  ;  for  we  have  not  a  high  prieft 
^'  who  cannot  be  touched  with  the  feeling 
*'  of  our  infirmities,  but  was  in  all  points 
*'  tempted  like  as  v/e  are,  yet  without  fm. 
"Let  us,  therefore,  come  boldly  to  the 
*^  throne  of  grace,  that  we  may  obtain 
**  mercy,  and  find  grace  to  help  us  in  time 
«  of  need." 


CHAP. 


ON  -FLATTERY.-  a6l 


CHAP.  XVH. 

''fbe  Ufe  of  Hijiory  in  teaching  the  Choice  x)f 
Favourites.  —  Flattery.  —  Our  Tajie  im- 
proved in  the  Arts  of  Adulation. — The 
Dangers  of  Flattery  exemplified. 

t     . 

JLT  Is  not  from  the  hiflory  of  good  princes 

alone,  that  fignal inftrucllonmay be  reaped. 

The  lives  of  the  criminal  and  unfortunate, 

commonly   unfortunate    becaufe    criminal, 

will   not  be  read  in  vain*     They  are   in- 

fiirudlive,  not  only  by  detailing  the  perfonal 

calamities  with  which  the  mifcondud  was 

followed  5  but  by  exliibiting  that  mifcondud 

as  the  fource  of  the  alienation  of  the  hearts 

of  their  fubjefts  ;  and  .often  as  the  remote, 

fvmetimes  as  the  immediate,  caufe  of  civil 

commotions  and  of  ]^volutions. 

But  caution  is  to  be  learned  not  from 

their  vices  only,  but  from  their  weaknelTes 

and   errors  ;  from  their  falfe  judgements, 

s  3  their 


iSl  ON    FLATTERY. 

their  ignorance  of  human  nature,  theii* 
narrow  views  arifnig  from  a  bad  education, 
their  judging  from  partial  information,  de- 
ciding from  infufed  prejudices,  and  ading 
6n  party  principles ;  their  being  habitu- 
ated to  confider  petty  unconneded  details, 
inflead  of  taking  in  the  great  aggregate  of 
public  concerns  ;  their  imprudent  choice  of 
minillers,  their  unhappy  fpirit  of  favouritifm, 
their  preference  of  felfifli  flatterers  to  difm- 
terefled  counfellors,  and  making  the^aflb- 
ciates  of  their  pleafures  the  difpenfers  of 
juftice  and  the  minifters  of  public  affairs  *. 

'Tls  by  that  clofe  acquaintance  with  the 
characters  of  men  which  hiflory  fupplies, 
that  a  prince  muft  learn  how  to  avoid  a 
jealous  Sejanus,  a  vicious  Tigellinus,  a  cor- 
rupt Spenfer  and  Gavaflon,  a  rapacious 
Epfom  and  Dudley,  a  pernicious  D*Ancre, 
an  ambitious  Wolfey,  a  profligate  Bucking- 

*  The  Romans  feem  to  have  had  juft  ideas  of  the 
(dgnity  of  charafter  and  office  attached  to  the  friend 
of  a  'prince  by  denominating  him,  not  favourite,  but 
^rt'tceps  cur ar Urn, 

ham  J 


ON    FLATTERY.  263 

ham ;  we  allude  at  once  to  the  minifter  of 
the  firfl:  James,  and  to  the  flill  more  profli- 
gate Buckingham  of  the  fecond  Charles  j  a 
tyrannical  Richelieu,  a  crafty  Mazarin,  a 
profufe  Louvois,  an  intriguing  Urfini,  an 
inefficient  Chamillard,  an  imperious  duchefs 
of  Marlborough,  and  a  fupple  Mafham. 

Jiiftory  prefents  frequent  inflances  of  an 
inconfiflency  not  uncommon  in  human  na-^ 
ture, — ^fovereigns  the  mod:  arbitrary  to  their 
fubjects,  themfelves  the  tools  of  favourites. 
He  who  treated  his  people  with  difdain,  ancj 
his  parliaments  with  contempt,  was,  in  turn, 
the  flave  of  Arran,  of  Car,  and  of  Villiers. 
His  grandfon  who  boldly  intrenched  on  the 
liberties  of  his  country,  was  himfelf  govern*- 
ed  by  the  Cabal. 

It  may  found  paradoxical  to  afTert, 
that  in  a  period  of  fociety,  when  chara6lers 
are  lefs  ftrongly  marked,  a  fovereign  is,  in 
fome  refpeds,  in  more  danger  of  chufmg 
wrong.  In  our  days,  and  under  our  con- 
ftitution  indeed,  it  is  fcarcely  poflible  to  err 
fo  widely,  as  to  fele£l:,  for  miniflers,  men 

s  4 


i^4  <^^  flatterV. 

of  fuch  atrocious  characters,  as  thofe  whd 
Tiave  juft  been  held  up  to  deteflation.     The 
Very  improvement  of  fociety,  therefore,  has 
can  fed  the  qtieftJon   to  become  one  of  a 
muGh  nicer  kind.     It  is  no  longef  a  choice 
between   men^    whofe   outward   characters 
€2chibit  a  monilrous  difproportion  to  each 
6ther.      A  bold  oppreffor  of  jthe  people, 
the  people  would  not  endare.     A  violent 
infringer  on  the  conflitution,  the  parliament 
\vould  not  tolerate.     Biit  flill  out  of  that 
clafs,    from   which    the    election   muft   be 
.  jnade,  the    moral   difpofitions,  the  political 
tendenciepj  and   the  religious  principles  of 
men  fnay  differ  fo  f^iaterially^  that  the  choice 
Tnay  ferioufly  affeft,  ^t  once,  the  credit  and 
happinefs  of  the  prince,  and    the   welfare 
of  the  country.     The  conduct  of  good  and 
bad  men  will  always  furnifh'no  inconiider» 
hble  means  of  diftinction ;  yet,  at  a  time  when 
grofs  and  palpable  enormities  are  lefs  likely 
to  be  obtruded,  becaufe  they  are  iefs  likely 
1o  be  endured,  it  is  the  more  neceflary  for 
a  prince  to  be  able  accurately  to  difcrimj- 

nate 


ON"  flattery;  .      ^6^ 

kite  the  ihades  of  the  charaders  of  public 
men. 

While,  therefore,  every  tendency  to  art 
or  difTimulation  fliould  be  reprobated,  the 
mod  exact   caution   fhou4d  be  inculcated, 
and  the  keencft  difcemment  cultivated,  in 
the  royal  education.     All  that  can  improve 
the  judgment,  fharpen  the  penetration,  or 
give  enlarged  views  of  the  hum^an  mind> 
fliould  be  put  in  exercife.     A  prince  ihould 
poffefs  that  fort   of  fight,  which,  while  it 
takes  in    remote  views,    accurately  diftin- 
guifhes  near  objefts.     To  the  eye  of  the 
lynx,  which  no  minutenefs  can  elude,  (hould 
be  added  that  of  the  eagle,  which  no  bright- 
nefs  can  blind,  for  whatever  dazzles  dark- 
ens.    He   fhould  acquire  that  jullnefs,  as 
tvell  as  extent  of  tnind,  which  fhould  enable 
him  to  ftudy  the  character  of  his  enemies, 
and  decide  upon  that  of  His  friends  ;  to  pe- 
netrate keenly,  but  not  invidioufly,  into  the 
Iflefigns  of  others,  and  vigilantly  to  fcruti'- 
pize  his  own.     His  mind  fliould  be  ftored. 


nol 


266  ON  FLATTERY. 

not  with  fhifts  and  expedients,  but  with 
large  and  liberal  plans  ;  not  with  flratagems, 
but  refources  j  not  with  fubterfuges,  but 
principles  ;  not  with  prejudices,  but  reafons. 
He  fhould  treafure  up  found  maxims  to 
teach  him  to  aft  confidently  5  be  provided 
with  fteady  meafures  fuited  to  the  probable 
occafion,  together  with  a  promptitude  of 
mind,  prepared  to  vary  them  fo  as  to  meet 
any  contingency. 

In  no  inftance  will  thofe  who  have  the 
care  of  forming  the  royal  pupil  find  a  furer 
exercife  of  their  wifdom  and  integrity,  than 
in  their  endeavours  to  guard  the  mind  from 
the  deadly  polfon  of  flattery.  "  Many 
"  kings,''  fays  the  witty  South,  *'  have  been 
"  deftroyed  by  poifon,  but  none  has  been 
*'  fo  efficacioufly  mortal  as  that  drunk  in 
"  by  the  ear." 

Intelleftual  tafte,  it  is  true,  is  much  re- 
lined,  fmce  the  Grecian  fophift  tried  to  cure 
the  melancholy  of  Alexander  by  telling 
him,  that,  "  Juftice  was  painted,  as  feated 
*'  near  the  throne  of  Jupiter^,  to  indicate 

"  that 


ON  FLATTERY.  26y 

*'  that  right  and  wrong  depended  on  the 
*'  will  of  kings  ;  all  whofe  adions  ought  to 
"  be  accounted  juft,  both  by  themfelves 
*'  and  others.** 

Compliments  are  not  now  abfurd  and 
extravagant,  as  when  the  moft  elegant  of 
Roman  poets  invited  his  imperial  mafter 
to  pick  out  his  own  lodging  among  the 
conftellations :  nor,  as  when  the  bard  of 
Pharfalia  offered  to  the  Emperor  his  choice, 
either  of  the  fceptre  of  Jupiter,  or  the  cha- 
riot of  Apollo  ;  modeftly  affuring  him,  that 
there  was  not  a  God  in  the  pantheon,  who 
would  not  yield  his  empire  to  him,  and 
account  it  an  honour  to  refign  in  his  favour* 
This  meritorious  prince,  fo  worthy  to  dif- 
place  the  Gods,  was  Nero  !  who  rewarded 
Lucan,  not  for  his  adulation,  but  for  being 
a  better  poet  than  himfelf,  with  a  violent 
death. 

The  fmooth  and  obfequious  Pliny  im- 
proved on  all  anterior  adulation.  Not 
content  with  making  his  Emperor  the  imi- 
tator, or  the  equal  of  Deity,  he  makes  him 

a  pattern 


■.  ( 


ft68  ON    FLATTERY. 

a  patter^  for  it ;    protefting   that   "   meii 
*'  needed  to  make  no  other  prayers  to  the* 

gods,  than  that  they  would  continue  to  be 

as  good  and  propitious  lords  to  them  as 

Trajan  had  been.'* 

But  the  refined  fycophant  of  modern 
days  is  more  likely  to  hide  the  aftual 
blemiihes,  an,d  .to  veil  the  real  faults  of  a 
prince  from  himfelf,  than  to  attribute  to 
him  incredible  virtues,  the  afcription  of 
which  would  be  too  grofs  to  impofe  on  his 
difcernment.  There  will  be  more  danger 
of  a  modern  courtier  imitating  the  delicacy 
of  the  ancient  painter,  who,  being  ordered 
to  draw  the  portrait  of  a  prince  who  had 
•but  one  eye  adopted  the  conciliating  ex- 
pedient of  painting  him  in  profile. 

But  if  the  modern  flatterer  be  lefs  grofs, 
lie  will  be,  on  that  very  account,  the  more 
dangerous.  The  refinement  of  his  adula- 
tion prevents  the  object  of  it  from  putting 
himfelf  on  his  guard.  The  prince  is  led, 
perhaps,  to  conceive  with  felf-ccmplacency 
ihat  he  is  hearing  the  largurge  of  truth, 

while 


ON    FLATTERY.  269 

while  he  is  only  the  dupe  of  a  more  ac- 
compiifhed  flatterer.  He  Hiould  efpecially 
beware  of  miftaking  freedom  of  manner, 
for  franknefs  of  fendment ;  and  of  con- 
founding the  artful  familiarities  of  a  defign- 
ing  favourite,  with  the  honefl  fimpliGity  of 
a  difmterefted  friend. 

Where,  in  our  more  corred:  day,  is  the 
courtier   who  would  dare  to  add  profane- 
nefs   to    flattery    fo   far,  as    to   declare,  as 
was  done  by  the  greateft  philofopher  this 
country   ever   produced,    in   his  letter   to 
prince    Charles,   that,  "  as  the  father  had 
been  his   creator,    fo   he   hoped   the   Son 
would  be  his  redeemer  ?  *"     But  what  a 
noble  contrafl:  to  this  bafe  and  blafphemous 
fervility  in   the   Chancellor  of  James,  does 
the  conduct  of  the  Chancellor  of  his  grand- 
fon  exhibit !     The  unbending  rectitude  of 
Clarendon   not  only    difdained    to   flatter, 
in  his  private  intercourfe,  a  mafter  to  whom 
however  his  pen  is  always  too  partial,  but 

*  See  Howell's  ,L^tters. 

It 


2/3  ON    FLATTERY. 

it  led  him  boldly  and  honeftly  to  remon- 
ftrate  againfl  his  flagitious  condud.  A  {land- 
ing example  for  all  times,  to  the  fervants 
and   compamons   of   kings,    he   refoiutely 
reproved  his  mafter  to  his  face,  while  he 
thought  it  his  duty  to  defend  him,  fome- 
what  too  ftrongly,  indeed,  to  others.     He 
boldly  befought  the  King,  "  not  to  believe 
*'  that  he  had  a  prerogative  to  declare  vice 
*'  to    be    virtue.*'      And    in   one  of    the 
nobleft  fpeeches  on  record,  in  anfwer  to  a 
difhonourable  requeft  of  the  King,  that  he 
would  vilit  fome  of  His  Majefly's  infamous 
alTociates  ;  he  laid  before  him  with  a  lofty 
fmcerity,  "  the  turpitude  of  a  man  in  his 
''  dignified  office,  being  obliged  to  counte- 
**  nance  perfons  fcandalous  for  their  vices, 
"  for  which  by  the  laws  of  God  and  man, 
*'  they  ought  to  be  odious  and  expofed  to 
"  the  judgment  of  the  church  and  flate,'*— 
In  this  inllance  fuperior  to  his  great  rival 
Sully,  that  no  defire  of  pleafmg  the  King, 
no  confideration  of  expcd'micy,  could  induce 

4  him 


ON    FLATTERY.  2^1 

him  to  vlfit  the  royal  miftrefles,  or  to  coun- 
tenance the  Hcentious  favourites. 

Princes  Lave  generally  been  greedy  of 
praife  in  a  pretty  exaft  proportion  to  the 
pains  which  they  have  taken  not  to  deferve 
it.  Henry  the  Vlllth  was  a  patron  of 
learned  men,  and  might  himfelf  be  ac- 
counted learned.  But  his  favourite  fludies, 
inftead  of  preferving  him  from  the  love  of 
flattery,  ferved  to  lay  him  open  to  it. 
Scholaftic  divinity,  the  faihionabie  learning 
of  the  times,  as  Burnet  obferves,  fuited  his 
vain  and  contentious  temper,  and  as  eccle- 
fiaftics  were  to  be  his  critics,  his  purfuits  of 
polemical  theology  brought  him  in  the 
largell  revenue  of  praife ;  fo  that  there 
feemed  to  be  a  contefl  between  him  and 
them,  whether  they  could  offer,  or  he  could 
fwallovv,  the  moll  copious  draughts  of  flat- 
tery. 

But  the  reign  of  James  the  Firfl  was  the 
great  epocha  of  adulation  in  England  ;  and 
a  prince  who  had  not  one  of  the  qualities  of 

a  war- 


11J1  ON    FLATTERY. 

a  warlike,  and  fcarccly  one  of  the  virtues 
of  a  pacific    King,    received   from  clergy 
and    laity,    from    flatefmen,    philofophers, 
and  men  of  letters,^  praifes  not  only  utterly 
repugnant  to  truth  and  virtue,  but  directly 
contrary  to  that  franknefs  of  manners,  and 
magnanimity  of  fpirit,  which  had  formerly 
charaderized    Engliflimen.       This    afcrip- 
tion  of    all    rights,    and   all   talents,    and 
all  virtues,  to  a  prince,  bold  through  fear, 
and    prefumptuous   becaufe  he   wifiied   to 
conceal  his  own  pufiUanimity,  rebounded, 
as  was  but  juft,  on  the  flatterers  ;  who,  ia 
return  for  their  adulation,  were  treated  by 
him  with  a  contempt,  which  not  the  boldeil 
of  his  predeceffors  bad  ever  ventured  to 
manifefl.     His  enquiry  of  his  company  at 
dinner,  whe!ther  he  might  not  take  his  fub- 
jeds'  money  when  he  needed  it,  without  the 
formality  of  parliament,  indicates,  that  one 
Objed  was  always  uppermoft  in, his  mind  *  ; 

«  The  requifition  was  allowed  in  a  phraie  as.dif- 
guftingly  fervile,  by  Bifiiop  Neile  ;  as  it  was  plea» 
fantly  evaded  by  Andrews. 

his 


ON  FLATTSRY,  275 

his  familiar  intercourfe  was  employed  in 
diving  into  the  private  opinions  of  men, 
to  difcover  to  what  length  his  oppreffive 
fchemes  might  be  carried ;  and  his  public 
conduct  occupied  in  putting  thofe  fchemes 
into  practice. 

But  the  royal  perfon  whom  we  prefame 
to  advife,  may,  from  the  very  circumftance 
of  her  fex,  have  more-  complicated  dangers 
to   refill ;    againft   which  her  mind  Ihould 
be  early  fortified.     The  dangers  of  adula- 
tion are  doubled,  when  the  female  character 
is    combined  with     the    royal.     Even  the 
vigorous  mind   of   the  great  Elizabeth  did 
not  guard  her  againft  the  powerful  aifaults 
of  the  flattery  paid   to  her  perfon.     That 
mafculine  fpirit  was  as  much    the  Have  of 
the  moft  egregious  vanity,  as  the  weakeft  of 
her  fex  could  have  been.  All  her  admirable 
prudence  and  profound  policy,  could  not 
preferve    her  from  the  childifh   and  filiy 
levity  with  which  fhe  greedily    invited  the 
compliments  of  the  artful  minifter  of  her 
more  beautiful  rival.     Even  that  grofs  in- 
YOi..  I.  T  llance 


^74  ^^  FLATTERY. 

"ftance  of  Melvil's  extravagance  enchanted 
her,  when,  as  fhe  was  playing  on  Mary's 
favourite  inflrument,  for  the  purpofe  of 
being  over-heard  by  him,  the  diffembling 
courtier  affected  to  be  fo  ravifhed  by  herfkill, 
as  to  burft  into  her  apartment,  hke  an  en- 
raptured man,  who  had  forgotten  his  reve- 
rence in  his  admiration.  It  was  a  curious 
combat  in  the  great  mind  of  Elizabeth,  be- 
tween the  offended  pride  of  the  queen,  and 
the  gratified  vanity  of  the  woman  ;  but 
Melvil  knew  his  trade  in  knowing  human 
nature  ; — he  calculated  juftly.  The  woman 
conquered. 

Princes  have  in  all  ages  complained  that 
they  have  been  ill  ferved.  But,  is  it  not 
becaufe  they  have  not  always  carefully  fe- 
iefted  their  fervants  ?  Is  it  not  becaufe  they 
have  too  often  bellowed  confidence  on  the 
nnwife,  and  employments  on  the  unworthy  ? 
Becaufe,  while  they  have  loaded  the  unde- 
ferving  with  benefits,  they  have  neglected  to 
reward  thofe  who  have  ferved  them  well, 
and  to  fupport  thofe  who  have  ferved  them 

long  ? 


ON  FLATTERY.  275 

long  ?  Is  it  not  becaufe  they  have  fometimes 
a  way  of  expecting  every  thing,  while  they 
feem  to  exadt  nothing  ?  And  have  not  too 
many  been  apt  to  confider  that  the  honour 
of  ferving  them  is  itfelf  a  fufficient  reward  ? 
By  a  clofe  ftudy  of  the  w^akneffes  and 
pafTions  of  a  fovereign,  crafty  and  defign. 
ing  favourites  have  ever  been  on  the  watch 
to  eftablifh  their  own  dominion,  by  fuch 
appropriate  means,  as  feem  befl:  accom- 
modated to  the  turn  of  thofe  weaknefTes 
and  paffions.  If  Leonore  Concini,  and  the 
duchefs  of  Marlborough,  obtained  the 
moft  complete  afcendency  over  their  refpec- 
tive  queens,  both  probably  by  artful  flattery 
at  h/ft,  they  afterwards  fecured  and  pre- 
ferved  it  by  a  tyranny  the  moft  abfolute. 
In  connexions  of  this  nature,  it  is  ufually 
on  the  fide  of  the  fovereim,  that  the  ca- 
price  and  the  haughtinefs  are  expefted  ;  but 
the  domineering  favourite  of  Anne  exclu- 
fively  aiTumed  to  herfelf  all  thefe  preroga- 
tives of  defpotic  power,  and  exercifed  them 
without    mercy,    on    the    intimidated   and 

T  3  fub' 


276  ON  PLATTEkY. 

fubmiflive  queen ;  a  queen,  who,  with 
many  virtues,  not  having  had  the  difcern- 
ment  to  find  out,  that  the  oppofite  extreme 
to  what  is  wrong,  is  commonly  wrong  alfb, 
in  order  to  extricate  herfelf  from  her  cap- 
tivity to  one  favourite,  fell  into  the  fnares 
fpread  for  her  by  the  fervility  of  another. 
Thus,  whether  the  imperious  duchefs,  or 
the  obfequious  Mafham,  were  lady  of  the 
afcendant,  the  fovereign  was  equally  in- 
fatuated, equally  mifled. 

That  attachments  formed  without  judg- 
•ment,  and  purfued  without  moderation,  are 
.likely  to  be  diffolved  without  reafon ;  and 
-that  breaches  the  mofl  trivial  in  themfelves 
may  be  important  in  their  confequences, 
were  never  more  fully  exemplified  than 
In  the  trifling  caufe  which,  by  putting  an  end 
to  the  intercourfe  between  the  above  named 
queen  and  duchefs,  produced  events  the 
mofl  unforefeen  and  extraordinary.  While 
the  duke  was  fighting  her  majefty's  battles 
abroad,  and  his  duchefs  fupporting  his 
interefl  againft  a  powerful  party  at  court ; 

a  pair 


ON  FLATTERY,  fj^ 

a  pair  of  gloves  of  a  new  invention,  fent 
iirft  by  the  milliner  to  the  favourite  (im- 
patient to  have  them,  before  the  queen, 
.who  had  ordered  a  fmiilar  pair),  fo  incenfed 
her  majefty,  as  to  be  the  immediate  caufe, 
by  driving  the  duchefs  from  her  poft,  of 
.depriving  the  duke  of  his  command,  com- 
pelling the  confederates  to  agree  to  a  peace, 
preferving  Louis  from  the  deftrudion  which 
awaited  him,  making  a  total  revolution  in 
parties  at  home,  and  determining  the  fate 
pf Europe*.    - 

To  a  monarch  more  eager  to  acquire 
fame  than  to  deferve  it,  to  penfion  a  poet 
will  be  a  fliorter  cut  to  renown  than  to 
difpenfe  bleffings  to  his  country.  Louis  XIL 
inftead  of  buying  immortality  of  a  fervile 
bard,  earned  and  enjoyed  the  appellation 
oi  father  of  bis  people :  that  people  whom 
his  brilliant  fuccelfor,  Louis  the  Great, 
drained  and  plundered,  or  in  the  emphatic 
language  of  the  prophet,  peeled  and fcatiered 

■"  Examen  du  Prince* 

T  3  to 


97^  ON  FLATTERY, 

to  provide  money  for  hfs  wars,  his  miftrefleSj 
liis  buildmgs,  and  his  fpe(5i:acles.  Pofterity, 
however,  has  done  juftice  to  both  kings, 
and  le  bien  aime  is  remembered  with  afFec- 
Jlionate  veneration,  while  le  grand  is  regarded 
as  the  fabricator  of  the  ruin  of  his  race. 

How  totally  mufl  adulation  have  blunted 
the  delicacy  of  the  latter  prince,  when  he 
could  fhut  himfelf  up  with  his  two  royal 
hilloriographers,  Boileau  and  Racine,  to 
hear  them  read  portions  of  his  own  hiftory, 
Befervedly  high  as  was  the  reputation  of 
thefe  two  fine  geniufes,  in  the  walks  of 
poetry,  was  that  hiflory  likely  to  convey 
much  truth  or  inllrudtion  to  pofterity, 
which,  after  being  compofed  by  two  pen- 
sioned poets,  was  read  by  them  to  the 
monarch,  who  was  to  be  the  hero  of  the 
tale  ?  Sovereigns,  indeed,  may  eled  poets 
to  record  their  exploits,  but  fubjeds  will 
read  hiftorians. 

The  conqueft  of  every  town  and  village 
was  celebrated  by  Boileau  in  hyperbolic 
ibng  5  and  the  whole  pantheon  ranfacked 


lo  ^- 


ON  FLATTERY,  279 

for  deities,  who  might  furnifh .  fome  faint 
idea  of  the  glories  of  the  immortal  Louis. 
The  time,  however,  foon  arrived,  when  the 
author  of  the  adulatory  ode  on  the  taking 
of  Namur,  in  v/hich  the  king  and  the  gods 
were  again  identified,  was  as  completely  over- 
turned by  the  incomparable  travefly  of  our 
witty  Prior,  as  the  conqueror  of  Namur 
himfelf  was,  by  its  glorious  deliverer- 
Little  Will,  the  fcourge  of  France, 
No  godhead,  but  the  firll  of  men  *. 

A  prince  (liould  be  accuftomed  to  fee 
and  know  things  as  they  really  are,  and 
fhould  be  taught  to  dread  that  ftate  of  de- 
lufion,  in  which  the  monaixh  is  the  only 
perfon  ignorant  of  what  is  doing  in  his 
kingdom.  It  was  to  little  purpofe  that  the 
fovereign  lad  named,  when  fome  temporary 
fenfe  of  remorfe  was  excited,  by  an  affed;- 
ing  reprefentation  of  the  miferies  of  the  per- 

*  Sec  Boilcau's  Ode  fur  la  prife  de  Namur  by 
Louis,  and  Prior's  Poem  on  the  taking  of  Namur» 
by  king  William,  / 

T  4  fecuted 


it 


280  ON  FLATTERY. 

fecuted  protejftants,  faid,  "  that  he  hoped 
God  would  not  impute  to  him  as  a  crime, 
punilhments  which  he  had  not  com- 
"  manded."  Dekifive  hope  !  It  was  crime 
enough  for  a  king  to  be  ignorant  of  what 
was  pafling  in  his  dominions. 

There  have  been  few  princes  fo  ill  dif- 
pofed,  as  not  to  have  been  made  worfe  by 
unmeafured  flattery.  Even  fome  of  the 
mofl  depraved  Roman  emperors  began 
their  career  with  a  fair  promif^.  Tiberius 
fet  out  with  being  mild  and  prudent  ;  and 
even  Nero,  for  a  confiderable  time,  either 
wore  the  mafk,  or  did  not  need  it.  While 
his  two  virtuous  friends  maintained  their  en. 
tire  influence,  every  thing  looked  favourable. 
But  when  his  fycophants  had  fucceeded  in 
maldng  Seneca  an  object  of  ridicule  ;  and 
when  Tigellinus  was  preferred  to  Burrhus, 
all  that  followed  was  a  natural  confequence. 
The  abject  flavery  of  the  people,  the  fervile 
decrees  of  the  fenate,  the  obfequious  ac- 
quiefcence  of  the  court,  the  profl:rate  ho- 
mage of  every  order,  all  concurred  to  bring 

out 


ON  FLATTERY.  '28x 

out  his  vices  in  their  full  luxuriance,  and 
Rome,  as  was  but  juft,  became  the  vidim 
pf  the  monfler  ilie  had  pampered.  Tacitus, 
■vvith  his  ufual  honefl  indignation,  declares, 
that  as  often  as  the  emperor  commanded 
banifhments  or  ordered  afTaflinations,  fo 
often  were  thanks  and  facrifices  decreed  to 
the  gods  ! 

But,  in  our  happier  days,  as  fubjecls,  it 
is  prefumed,  indulge  no  fuch  propenfities, 
fo  under  our  happier  conflitution,  have 
they  no  fuch  opportunides.  Yet  powerful, 
though  gentler,  and  almoll  unapparent 
means,  may  be  employed  to  weaken  the 
virtue,  and  injure  the  fame  of  a  prince. — 
To  degrade  his  character,  he  need  only  be 
led  into  one  vice,  idlenefs  j  and  be  attacked 
by  one  weapon,  flattery.  Indifcriminate 
acquiefcence  and  foothing  adulation  will 
lay  his  mmd  open  to  the  incuriion  of 
every  evil  without  his  being  aware  of  it  j 
for  his  table  is  not  the  place  where  he  ex- 
pects to  meet  an  enemy,  confequently,  he 
is   not   on   his  guard   againfl   him.      And 

where 


2S2  ON  FLATTERY. 

where  he  is  thus  powerfully  affailed^  the 
kindell:  nature,  the  befl  intentions,  the 
gentlefl  manners,  and  the  mildell  difpo- 
iitions,  cannot  be  depended  on  for  preferv- 
ing  him  from  thofe  very  corruptions,  to 
which  the  word  propenlities  lead  ;  and 
there  is  a  degree  of  facility,  which,  from 
fbftnefs  of  temper,  becomes  imbecility  of 
jnind. 

For  there  is  hardly  a  fault  a  fovereign 
can  commit,  to  which  flattery  may  not  in- 
cline him.  It  impels  to  oppofite  vices ;  to 
apathy  and  egotifm,  the  natural  failings  of 
the  great ;  to  ambition  which  inflames  the 
heart,  to  anger  which  diftorts  it  ;  to  hard' 
nefs  which  deadens,  and  to  felfilhnefs  which 
degrades  it.  He  ifhould  be  taught,  as  the 
intrepid  Mafillon  *  taught  his  youthful 
prince,  that  the  flattery  of  the  courtier, 
contradictory  as  the  aflertion  may  feem,  is 
little  lefs  dangerous  than  the  difloyalty  "of 
the   rebel.     Both  would  betray  him  ;  and 

*  See  Mafillon's  Sermons,  abounding  equally  in 
tlic  fubliraell  piety  and  the  richell  eloquence. 

the 


ON  FLATTERY.  283 

the  crime  of  him  who  would  dethrone,  an4 
of  him  who  would  debafe  his  prince,  how- 
ever they  may  differ  in  a  political,  differ 
but  little  in  a  moral  view  :  nay  the  ili 
effeds  of  the  traitor's  crime  may,  to  the 
prince  at  leafl,  be  bounded  by  time,  while 
the  confequences  of  the  flatterer's  may 
pxtend  to  eternity. 


CHAP, 


-84  RELIGION    NECESSARY 

CHAP.  XVIIL 

Religion  necejary  to  the  laell-belng  of  States. 

1  HE  royal  pupil  fhould  be  informed,  that 
there  are  fome  half  Chriftians,  and  half 
philofophers,  who  wiili,  without  incurring 
the  difcredit  of  renouncing  religion,  to  ftrip 
It  of  its  value,  by  lowering  its  ufefulnefs. 
They  have  been  at  much  pains  to  produce 
a  perfuafion,  that  however  beneficial  Chrif- 
tianity  may  be  to  individvals,  and  however 
properly  it  may  be  taken  as  the  rule  of  their 
conduct,  it  cannot  be  fafely  brought  into 
action  in  political  concerns ;  that  the  in- 
tervention of  its  fpirit  will  rarely  advance 
the  public  good,  but,  on  the  contrary,  will 
often  necelfarily  obflru6l  it ;  and  in  particu- 
lar, that  the  glory  and  elevation  of  dates 
mufl  be  unavoidably  attended  with  fome 
violation  even  of  thofe  laws  of  morality, 
which,  they  allow,  ought  to  be  obferved  in 
other  cafes  *. 

*  It  were  to  be  wifhed  that  Cromwell  had  been  the 

only  ruler  who  held,  that  the  rules  of  morahty  mufl  be 

difpenfed  with  on  g^eat  political  occafions. 

1 2  Thefe 


TO  THE  WEI.L-BEING  OF  STATES.       285 

Thefe  alT^rtlons,  refpeding  the  political 
difadvantages   of  religion,    have   not  been 
urged   merely  by  the   avowed    enemies  of 
Chriftian  principle,  the  Bolingbrokes,  the 
Hobbes's,    and  the  Gibbons :    but  there  is 
a  more  fober  clafs  of  fceptics,  ranged  under 
the  banners  of  a  very  learned  and  ingenious 
fophifl  *,  who  have  not  fcrupled  to  main* 
tain,   that   the  author    of  Chriftianlty    has 
actually  forbidden  us  to  improve  the  con- 
dition of   this  world,  to  take   any  vigorous 
ileps  for  preventing  its  mifery,  or  advancing 
its  glory.     Another  writer,  an  elegant  witj 
but    whimfical     and     fuperficiaf,     though 
doubtlefs,  a  fmcere  Chriilian  f,  who  would 
be  fhocked  at  the   excefs  to  which  impiety 
has  carried  the  pofition,   has   yet  aiforded 
fome  countenance  to  it,  by  intimating,  that 
God  has  given  to  men  a  religion  wiiich  is 

-*  Mr.  Bayle. 

f  Soame  Jenyns.  It  is  true,  he  puts  the  remark 
in  the  mouth  of  ''  refined  and  fpeculative  obfervers." 
But  he  afterwards  affirms  in  his  own  perfon — Tfjiit 
fxich  is  indeed  the  Chr'ijllan  Revelalion. 

Incom- 


286  RELIGION  NECESSARY 

incompatible  with  the  whole  ceconomy  of 
that  world  which  he  has  created,  and  in 
which  he  has  thought  proper  to  place 
them.  He  allows,  that  "  government  is 
effential  to  men,  and  yet  afferts,  that  it  can- 
not be  managed  without  certain  degrees  of 
violence,  corruption,  and  impcfition,  which 
yet  Chriflianity  fcridly  forbids.  That  per- 
petual patience  under  injuries  muft  every 
day  provoke  new  infults,  and  injuries,  yet 
is  this,  fays  he,  enjoined.^^ 

The  fame  pofitions  are  alfo  repeatedly 
affirmed,  by  a  later,  more  folid,  and  mofl 
admirable  writer,  whofe  very  able  defence 
of  the  divine  authority  of  Chriflianity  and 
the  Holy  Scriptures,  naturally  obtains  credit 
for  any  opinions  which  are  honoured  with 
his  fupport. 

It  may  be  expefted,  that  thofe  who  ad- 
vance fuch  proportions,  fliould  at  leall 
produce  proofs  from  hiftory,  that  thofe 
flates,  in  the  government  cf  which  Chriftian 
principles  have  been  mod  confpicuous, 
other  circumftances  being  equal,  have  either 

failed 


TO  THE  WELL-BEING  OF  STATES.       287 

failed  through  error,  or  funk  through  im- 
potence ;  or  in  fome  other  way  have  fuf- 
fered  from  introducing  principles  into 
tranfad;ions  to  which  they  were  inapii- 
cable. 

But  how  Httle  the  avowed  fceptic,  or 
even  the  paradoxical  Chriflian,  feems  to 
underftand  the  genius  of  our  religion  ;  and 
how  erroneous  is  their  conception  of  the 
true  elementary  principles  of  political  prof-- 
perity  we  learn  from  one,  who  was  as  able 
as  either  to  determine  on  the  cafe.  He 
who  was  not  only  a  politician  but  a  Idng, 
and  eminently  acquainted  with  the  duties 
of  both   charafters,    has   allured   us,  that 

RIGHTEOUSNESS      EXALTETH     A   NATION. 

And  does  not  every  inftinct  of  the  un- 
fophifticated  heart, ,  and  every  clear  refult 
of  difpaiuonate  and  enlarged  obfervation, 
unite  in  adopting  as  a  moral  axiom  this 
divinely  recorded  aphorifm  ? 

It  would,  indeed,  be  ftrange,  if  the  great 
Author  of  all  things  I'lad  admitted  fuch  an 
anomaly  in   his   moral  government  j  if  in 

direct 


288  RELIGION  NECESSARY 

direct  contradiction  to  that  moral  ordination 
of  caufes  and  efFedls,  by  which,  in  the  cafe 
of  individuals,  religion  and  virtue  generally 
tend,  in  the  way  of  natural  confequence, 
to  happinefs  and  profperity,  irreligion  and 
vice,  to  difcomfiture  and  mifery,  the  Al- 
mighty lliould  have  eflablifhed  the  direflly 
oppofite  tendencies,  in  the  cafe  of  thofe 
multiplications  of  individuals,  which  are 
called  civil  communities.  It  is  a  fuppoli- 
tion  fo  contrary  to  the  divine  procedure, 
in  every  other  inflance,  that  it  would  re- 
quire to  be  proved  by  inconteftibie  evidence. 
It  would  indeed  amount  to  a  concefTion, 
that  the  moral  Author  of  the  world  had 
apppointed  a  premium,  as  it  were,  for  vice 
and  irreligion  ;  the  very  idea  is  prophane- 
nefs.  Happily  it  is  clearly  contrary  alfo 
both  to  reafon  and  experience.  Providence, 
the  ordinations  of  which  will  ever  exhibit 
marks  of  wifdom  and  goodnefs,  in  propor- 
tion to  the  care  with  which  they  are  ex- 
plored, has,  in  this  inflance,  as  well  as  in 
others,  made  our  duty  coincident  with  our 

hap- 


TO  THE  WELL-BEING  OF  STATES.    289 

happinefs  ;  has  furnifhed  us  with  an  addi- 
tional  motive  for  purfuing  that  courfe, 
which  is  indifpenfable  to  our  eternal  wel- 
fare, by  rendering  it,  in  the  cafe  both  of 
individuals  and  of  communities,  productive 
alfo  of  temporal  good.  It  was  not  enough 
to  make  the  paths  of  virtue  lead  to  "  the 
fulnefs  of  joy"  hereafter,  they  are  even 
now  rendered  to  thofe  who  walk  in  them, 
"  paths  of  pleafantnefs  and  peace.'* 

It  would  not  be  difficult  to  prove,  by  a 
reference  to  the  moil  eilabhfhed  principles 
of  human  nature,   that  thofe  difpoHtions  of 
mind    and    principles    of   conduct,    which, 
both  direftly  and  indireftly,  tend  to  pro- 
mote the  good  order  of  civil  communities, 
are,  in  general,  produced  or  ftrengthened 
by  religion.      The  fame    temper  of  mind 
which  difpofes  a  man  to  fear  God,  prompts 
him    to    honour    the    king.       The    fame 
pride,    fclf-fufficiency,    and   impatience    of 
control,    which    are   commonly   the    root 
and  origin  of   impiety,    naturally  produce 
civil  infubordination  and  difcontent.     One 
VOL.  I.  u  of 


290  RELIGION    NECESSARY 

of  the  moft  acute  of  our  political  writers- 
has  ftated,  that  all  government  refts  on 
op'mion  ;  on  the  opinion  entertained  by  the 
mafs  of  the  people,  of  the  right  to  power  in 
their  governors,  or  on  the  opinion  of  its 
being  their  own  intercjl  to  obey.  Now,  re- 
ligion naturally  confirms  both  thefe  prin- 
ciples ;  and  thereby  flrengthens  the  very 
foundations  of  the  powers  of  government. 
It  eflablifhes  the  right  to  power  of  governors, 
by  teaching,  that  "  there  is  no  power  but 
of  God ;"  it  confirms  in  fubjefts  the  fenfe 
of  its  being  their  intereji  to  obey,  by  the  pow- 
erful intervention  of  its  higher  fandions 
and  rewards  :  *^'  they  that  refill  fhall  receive 
to  themfelves  condemnation." 

Religion  teaches  men  to  confider  their 
lot  in  life,  as  a  ftation  affigned  to  them,  by 
Him,  who  has  a  right  to  difpofe  of  his 
creatures  as  he  will.  It  therefore  tends  to 
prevent,  in  the  great  mafs  of  the  commu- 
nity, which  muil  ever  be,  comparatively 
fpeaking,  poor,  the  difpofition  to  repine  at 
the  more  favoured  lot,  and  fuperior  com- 
12  forts 


TO  THE  WELL-BEING  OF  STATES.    29 1 

forts  of  the  higher  orders ;  a  difpofitfon 
which  is  the  real  fource  of  the  moft  dan- 
gerous and  deadly  diifenfions. 

Religion,    again,    as   prompting  men  to 
view  all  human  events  as  under  the  divine 
direction,  to  regard  the  evils  of  life  as  the 
difpenfation  of  Heaven,  and  often  as  capa- 
ble of  being  rendered  conducive  to  the  mofl 
eifential  and  lafting  benefit ;   difpofes   men 
to  bear  all  their  fuiferings  with  refignation 
and   cheerfulnefs.     Whereas,  on  the  con- 
trary, they  who  are  not  under  its  power, 
are  often  inclined  to  revenge  on  their  rulers, 
the  misfortunes,  which   unavoidably  refult 
from  natural  caufes,  as  well  as  thofe  which 
may  be  more  reafonably  fuppofed  to  have 
owed  their  exiflence  to  human  imprudence 
and  actual  mifconduft. 

Again,  if  from  contemplating  thefe  quef- 
tions  in  their  principles  and  elements,  we 
proceed  to  view  them,  as  they  have  been 
exhibited  and  illuftrated  by  hiftory  and 
experience,  we  (hall  find  the  fame  pofitions 
eflablilhcd  with  equal  clearnefs  and  force. 

u  2  Is 


292  RFLIGION'   NECESSARY 

Is  there  any  propofitlon  more  generally 
admitted,  than  that  political  communities 
tend  to  decay  and  difToIution,  in  proportion 
to  the  corruption  of  their  morals  ?  How 
often  has  the  authority  of  the  poet  been 
adduced  (an  author  acute  and  juft  in  his 
views  of  life,  but  not  eminent  for  being 
the  friend  of  morals  or  religion),  to  prove" 
the  inefficacy  of  laws  to  avert  the  progrefs 
of  a  ftate's  decline  and  fall,  while  it  (hould 
be  carried  forward,  too  furely,  in  the  down- 
ward road,  by  the  general  corruption  of 
manners.  We  have  already  exemplified 
thefe  truths,  in  enumerating  the  caufes  of 
the  fall  of  Rome  *.  On  more  than  one 
occafton,  that  flate  had  owed  its  preferva- 
tion  to  its  reverence  for  the  awful  fandlion 
of  an  oath.  This  principle,  and  indeed  the 
duty  which  is  fo  clofely  connected  with 
it,  of  truth  and  general  fidelity  to  engage- 
ments, are  the  very  cement  which  holds 
together  focieties,  and  indeed  all,  whether 

*  Chap.  viii. 

greater 


TO  THE  WELL-BEING  OF  STATES.    293 

greater  or  fmaller,  affociations  of  men  j  and 
that  this  clafs  of  vhtues  is  founded  and 
bottomed  on  religion,  is  undeniably  evi- 
dent. 

If  we  pafs  from  the  page  of  hiftory  to  -a 
review  of  private  life,  are  we  not  led  to 
exactly  the  fame  conclufions  ?  Where  do 
the  politicians,  who  reafon  from  the  evi- 
dence of  fafts,  exped  to  find  a  fpirit  of 
infubordination  and  anarchy  ?  Is  it  not  in 
our  crowded  cities,  in  our  large  manu- 
facturing towns,  where  wealth  is  often  too 
dearly  purchafed  at  the  price  of  morality 
and  virtue  ?  And  if  we  refort  to  individual 
indances,  who  is  the  man  of  peace  and 
quietnefs  ?  Who  is  the  leaft  inchned  to 
"  meddle  with  them  that  are  given  to 
change  ?'*  Is  it  not  the  man  of  religious  and 
domeftic  habits  ;  whofe  very  connexions, 
purfuits  and  hopes,  are  fo  many  pledges 
for  his  adherence  to  the  caufe  of  civil  order, 
and  to  the  fupport  of  the  laws  and  inftitu- 
tions  of  his  country  ? 

u  3  It 


294  rj;ligion  necessary 

It   is    the  more  extraordinary  that   any 
writers,  not  deliberately  hoftile  to  the  caufe 
of  religion  and  virtue,  fhould   have  given 
any  degree  of  countenance  to  the  pernici- 
ous error,    which  we   have   been  fo   long 
combating ;    becaufe   the  oppofite   opinion 
has   been   laid   down,   as  an   inconteflible 
axiom,  by  thofe  who  will  not  be  fufpeded 
of  any  extravagant  zeal  for  the  credit  of 
religion,  but,   who  fpeak   the   dictates   of 
ftrong  fenfe,  and  deep  obfervation.      Hear, 
then  the  able,  but  profligate   ]\%chiavel — 
Thofe  princes  and  commonwealths,  who 
would  keep  their  governments  entire  and 
"  uncorrupt,  are  above  all  things,  to  have 
"  a  care    of  religion   and    its    ceremonies, 
''  and  preferve  them  in  due  veneration,  for 
"  in  the  whole  world,  there  is  not  a  greater 
fign  of  imminent  ruin,  than  when  God 
and    his    worfliip    are    defpifed." — '*  A 
prince,  therefore,  ought  mcft  accurately 
to  regard,  that  his  religion  be  well-found- 
"  ed,  and   then  his  government  will  laft  ; 
*'  for  there  is  no  furer  way,  than  to  keep  that 

"  good 


a 


TO  THE  WELL-BEING  OF  STATES.    295 

'  good  and  united.  Whatever  therefore 
'  occurs,  that  may  any  way  be  extended 
'  to  the  advantages  and  reputation  of  the 
'  rehgion  they  defign  to  eftablifh,  by  all 
'  means,  they  are  to  be  propagated  and 
'  encouraged ;  and  the  wifer  the  prince, 
'  the  more  fure  it  is  to  be  done." — "  And 
•  if  this  care  of  divine  worfliip  were  re- 
'  garded  by  Chrifliaa  princes,  according 
'  to  the  precepts  and  inftrudlions  of  him 
'  who  gave  it  at  firft,  the  dates  and  com- 
'  monwealths  of  Chriftendom  would  be 
'  much  more  happy  and  firm  *.'* 

Machiavel,  it  will  be  faid,  was  at  once 
an  infidel  and  a  hypocrite,  who  did  not 
believe  the  truth  of  that  religion,  the  ob- 
fervance  of  which  he  folicitoufly  enforced. 
Be  it  fo  J  it  dill  dedu6ls  nothing  from  the 
force  of  the  argument  as  to  the  political 
ufes  of  religion.- — For,  if  the  mere  forms 
and  infhitutions,  "  the  outward  and  vifible 
figns"  of  Chriftianity,  were  acknowledge^ 

^  Machiavel's  Difcourfes  on  Livy. 


U  4  to 


296*  RELIGION    NECESSARY 

to  be,  as  they  really  are,  of  fo  great  value, 
by  this  fhrewd  politician,  what  might  not 
be  the  eiTect  of  its  "  inward  and  fpiritual 
grace  ?" 

When  two  able  men  of  totally  oppofite 
principles  and  charafters,    pointedly  agree 
on   any  one    important   topic,   there   is    a 
ftrong  prefumption,   that   they  meet  in   a 
truth.      Such  an   unlocked-for  conformity 
may  be  found,  in  two  writers,  fo  decidedly 
oppolite   to  each    other,    as  our   incompa- 
rable  Bifiiop   Butler,   and   the   Florentine 
fecretary  above  cited.      Who  will   fufped: 
Butler  of  being  a  vifionary  enthufiaft  ?    Yet 
has  he  drawn  a  molt  beautiful  pidure  of 
the  happinefs  of  an  imaginary  ftate,  which 
fhould  be  perfectly  virtuous  for  a  fucceffion 
of  ages.      "  In   fuch  a  ftate,"   he  infifts, 
"  there  would  be  no  fadlion.     Public  de- 
terminations would  really  be  the  refult  of 
united  wifdom.      i\ll  would  contribute  to 
the    general    profperity,    and    each    would 
enjoy  the  fruits  of  his  own  virtue.    Injuftice, 
force,  and  frauds  would  be  unknown — -Such 

a  king- 


TO  THE  WELL-BEING  OF  STATES.    297 

a  kingdom  would  influence  the  whole 
earth  ;  the  head  of  it  would  indeed  be  a 
univerfal  monarch,  in  a  new  fenfe,  and  all 
people,  jiations,  and  languages  Jljould  fer-ve 
him*''' 

The  profound  Butler  was,  indeed,  too 
great  an  adept  in  the  knowledge  of  human 
nature,  and  too  thoroughly  verfed  in  the 
whole  hiflory  of  mankind,  not  to  know, 
as  he  afterwards  obferves,  the  impoflibility 
without  fome  miraculous  interpofition,  that 
a  great  body  of  men  fhould  fo  unite  in  one 
nation  and  government,  in  the  fear  of  God, 
and  the  praftice  of  virtue ;  and  that  fuch 
a  government  fliould  continue  unbroken 
for  a  fucceiTicn  of  ages  ;  yet  fuppofmg  it 
.could  be  fo,  fuch,  he  affirms,  would  be  the 
certain  efFefl.  And  may  we  not  alfo  affirm,, 
that  even  allowing  for  all  the  failings  and 
imperfections  of  human  nature,  which  the 
prelate  has  excluded  from  his  hypothefis, 

*  This  is  only  a  (hort  abftraft  of  tliiS  fine  pafTage, 
to  the  whole  of  which  the  reader  is  referred.  Butler's 
Analogy,  part  firft,  chap.  iii.  p,  89,  and  following. 

would 


29S  RELIGION    NECESSARY 

would  not  a  ftate  really  approach  nearer  to 
this  fuppofed  happmefs,  in  proportion  as  ife 
taught  and  pradifed  with  more  fedulity,  the 
principles  of  religion  and  virtue  ? 

We  cordially  agree,  indeed,  with  the 
famous  Cofrno  di  Medici,  that  princes 
cannot  govern  their  flates,  by  "  counting 
a  firing  of  beads,  or  mumbling  over  Pater- 
nofters."  But  we  are,  at  the  fame 
time,  equally  averfe  from  the  religion 
which  affigns  fuch  practices  to  any  clafs 
of  people  ;  and  from  that  ignorance  which 
would  make  the  religion  of  any  order  of 
men,  efpecially  of  princes,  confift  in  mere 
ceremonies  and  obfervances.  Charles  the 
Wife,  was  at  leaft  as  found  a  judge  as 
Cofmo,  of  what  conflituted  the  perfedion 
of  a  royal  character,  when  he  declared, 
that,  "  if  there  were  no  honour  and  virtue 
left  in  the  reft  of  the  world,  the  laft  traces 
of  them  fliould  be  found  among  princes."  ' 
There  fliould,  indeed,  be  found  in  the  royal 
character  an  innate  grandeur  ;  a  dignity  of 
foul  which  lliould  ihew  itfelf  under  all  cir- 

cumftances. 


TO  THE  WELL-BEING  OF  STATES.    299 

cumftances,  and  fliine  through  every  cloud 
I  of  trial  or  difficulty.  It  was  from  fuch 
inherent  marks  of  greatnefs,  that  the  infant 
Cyrus,  exiled  and  unknown,  was  chofen 
king  by  the  fhepherd's  children. 

It  would  not,  perhaps,  be  eafy  to  cite  an 
higher  authority,  on  the  point  in  quefticn, 
the  importance  of  religion  to  a  flate,  than 
that  of  the  great  and  excellent  Chancellor 
de  L'Hopital.  It  was  a  common  obferva- 
tion  of  his,  that,  "  religion  had  more  in- 
fluence upon  the  fpirits  of  mankind,  than 
all  their  paflions  put  together  ;  and  that  the 
cement,  by  which  it  united  them,  was  in- 
finitely ftronger  than  all  the  other  obli- 
gations of  civil  fociety."  This  was  not 
the  obfervation  of  a  dreaming  monk,  Vv-ho, 
in  his  cell,  writes  maxims  for  a  world  of 
which  he  knows  nothing ;  but  the  fentiment 
derived  from  deep  experience,  of  an  illuf- 
trious  flatcfman,  whofe  greatnefs  of  mind, 
zeal,  difmtereftednefs,  and  powerful  talents, 
fupported  France  under  a  fucceffion  of 
weak    and    profligate    kings.      Frugal  for 

the 


300  RELIGION    NECESSARY 

the  flate  in  times  of  boundlefs  prodigality  ; 
philofophical  in  a  period  of  enthufiaflic 
fury ;  tolerant  and  candid  in  days  of  per- 
fecution,  and  deeply  confcientious  under 
all  circumflances  ;  ^vorthy,  in  fliort,  and  it 
is  perhaps  his  beft  eulogium,  to  be  driven, 
for  his  virtues,  by  Catherine  di  Medici 
from  councils,  which  his  wifdoni  might 
Iiave  controlled  ;  and  who,  on  giving  up 
the  feals  which  fhe  demanded,  withdrew  to 
an  honourable  literary  retreat,  with  the 
remark,  that,  "  the  world  was  loo  depraved 
for  him  to  concern  himfelf  any  longer  with 
it.*'  Thefe  are  the  men  whom  corrupt 
princes  drive  from  the  diredicn  of  thofe 
flates,  which  their  wifdom  might  fave  and 
their  virtue  might  reform. 

Another  of  the  political  advantages  of 
religious  redlitude  in  a  flate,  is  the  fecurity 
it  affords.  For^  with  whatever  jull  feverity 
vv'e  may  reprobate  the  general  fpirit  of 
revolution,  yet,  it  mufl  be  confefl'ed,  that 
it  has  not,  on  all  occafions,  been  excited 
by  undue  difcontent,  by  unprovoked  im- 
patience. 


TO  THE  WELL-BEING  OF    STATES.    30I 

patience,  nor  even  by  felfifh  perfonal  feel- 
ings ;  but,  fometimes  alfo  from  a  virtuous 
lenfe  of  the  evils  of  opprefiion  and  injuilice; 
evils,  which  honed  men  refent  for  others  as 
well  as  for  themfelves. 

Again,  there  is  fomething  fo  fafe  and 
tranquillizing  in  Chriftian  piety,  as  we  have 
already  obferved,  that,  though  we  v/ould 
be  far  from  reducing  it  to  a  cold  political 
calculation ;  yet,  content,  fubmifiion,  and 
obedience,  make  fo  large  a  practical  part 
of  religion,  that  wherever  it  is  taught  in 
the  bed  and  founded  way,  it  can  hardly 
fail  to  promote,  in  the  people,  the  ends  of 
true  policy,  any  more  than  of  genuine 
morality. 

Our  wifed  fovereigns,  partly  perhaps  for 
this  reafon,  have  paid  the  deeped  attention 
to  the  moral  indru6i:ion  of  the  lower  claffes 
of  their  fubjefts.      Alfred  and  Elizabeth  *, 

among 

♦  See  a  letter  of  Archbifliop  Whitgift  to  the 
bifhops,  of  which  the  following  is  an  extra<3;  : 

"  Your  Lordfhip  is  not  ignorant,  that  a  great  part 
of  the  difiblutenefs  of  manners,  and  ignorance  in  the 

common 


3«2  RELIGION    NECESSARY 

among  others,  were  too  found  politicians 
to  lofe  this  powerful  hold  on  the  afFeftions 
of  their  people.  In  addition  to  their  defire 
to  promote  religion,  they  had  no  doubt 
difcerned,  that  it  is  grofs  vice,  that  it  is 
brutal  ignorance,  which  leave  the  lower 
clafs   a   prey   to   factious  innovators,    and 

common  fort,  that  reigneth  in  moft  parts  of  this  realm, 
even  in  this  clear  light  of  the  gofpel,  arifeth  hereof,  for, 
that  the  youth,  being  as  it  were  the  frie  and  feminary 
of  the  church  and  commonwealth,  through  negligence, 
both  of  natural  and  fpiritual  fathers,  are  not,  as  were 
meet,  trained  up  in  the  chief  and  neceffary  principles 
of  Ciiriftian  religion,  whereby  they  might  learn  their 
duty  to  their  God,  their  prince,  their  country,  and 
their  neighbours ;  efpecially  in  their  tender  years,  when 
thefe  things  might  befhbe  planted  in  them,  and  would 
become  moft  hardly  to  be  afterwards  removed.     This 
mifchief  might  well,  in  mine  opinion,  be  redreffed,  if 
that  which  in  this  behalf  hath  been  godly  and  wifely 
provided,  were  as  carefully  called  on  and  executed, 
namely,  by  catechizing  and  inllrufling  in   churches 
the  youth  of  both  fexes,  on  the  fabbath  days,  in  the 
afternoon.     And,  that  if  it  maybe  convenient,  before 
their  parents,  and  others  of  the  feveral  parifhes,  who 
thereby  may  take  comfort  and  inilru6lion  alfo. 

Strype's  Life  of  Whitgift." 

render 


TO  THE  WELL-BEING  OF  STATES.    303 

render  them  the  blind  tools  of  political  in- 
cendiaries. When  the  youth  of  this  clafs  are 
carefully   inftrufted   in    religion    by   their 
rightful  teacherSj  thofe  teachers  have  the 
faireft  opportunities  of  inltilling  into  them 
their  duty  to  the  flate,  as  well  as  to  the 
church  ;  and  they  will  find  that  the  fame  ief- 
fons  which  form  good  Chriflians,  tend  to 
make  good  fubjecls.     But,  without  that  mo- 
derate meafure  of  found  and  fober  inftruc- 
tion,  which  fliould  be  judicioufly  adapted  to 
their   low   demands,    they    will    be    likely 
neither  to  honour  the  king,  reverence  the 
clergy,  nor  obey  the   magiftrate.     While, 
on  the  contrary,  by  interweaving  their  duty 
to  their  governors,  with  their  duty  to  God, 
they  will  at  once  be  preferved  from  mif- 
chief  in  politics,  and  delufion  in  religion. 
The  awful  increafe  of  perjury  among    us 
is  of  irfelf  a  loud  call  feduloully  to  purfue 
this  objeft.       How  fhould  thofe,   who  are 
not  early  inftruded   in  the  knowledge  of 
their  Maker,  fear  to   offend  him,  by  that 
common    violation    of    the    folemnity    of 

oaths. 


304  RELIGION    NECESSARY 

oaths  for  which  we  are  unhappily  becom- 
ing notorious?  Let  us  not  be  deemed 
needlefslv  earneft  in  the  defence  of  a  truth 
of  fuch  extreme  importance.  The  pohtical 
value  of  religion  never  can  be  too  firmly 
believed,  or  too  carefully  kept  in  view,  in 
the  government  of  nations.  May  it  be 
deeply  rooted  in  the  mind  of  every  prince, 
as  a  fundamental  principle  !  Let  it  be  con- 
firmed by  all  the  various  proofs  and  ex- 
amples, by  which  its  truth  can  be  efla- 
bliflied,  and  its  authority  enforced  *  ! 

*  Mr,  Addifon  fpeaks'of  the  religious  inftruftion 
of  tlie  poor  as  the  beil  means  of  recovering  the 
country  from  its  degeneracy  and  depravation  of  man- 
ners. And,  after  drawing  an  animated  pifture  of  a 
procefGon  of  charity  children  on  a  day  of  thankf- 
giving  for  the  triumphs  obtained  by  the  queen's 
arms,  he  adds,  "  for  my  part,  I  can  fcarce  forbear 
looking  on  the  ailonifhing  viftories  our  arn-.s  have 
been  crowned  with  to  be,  in  fome  meaiure,  the 
bleffings  returned  upon  thefe  charities ;  and  that  the 
great  fuccefies  of  the  war,  for  whica  we  lately  offered 
up  our  thanks,  were,  in  fome  meafure,  occafioned  by 
the  feveral  objefts  ( of  religioufly  inftrufted  children) 
v»'hich  then  ftood  before  us.  Guardiarh  No.  105. 
Thefe  nvere  the  fentiments  of  a  fecrefary  ofjiate! 

But; 


To  THE  WELL-BEING  OF  STATES.     305 

But,  to  return. — We  mofl  readily  con- 
cede^ that  by  that  exaltation  of  a  ilate  of 
which  Solomon  fpeaks,  is  not  meant,  that 
fudden  flafh  of  temporary  fplendour,  which 
is  occafioned  by  the  mutable  advantages  of 
war,  the  plunder  of  foreign  countries,  the 
acquifition  of  unwieldy  territory,  or  the 
vertigo  of  domeftic  revolutions :  but  that 
fober  and  folid  glory,  v^^hich  is  the  refult 
of  juft  laws  ;  of  agriculture  and  fobriety, 
which  promote  population ;  of  induflry 
and  commerce,  v/hich  increafe  profperity ; 
of  fuch  v/ell-regulated  habits  in  private 
life,  as  may  ferve  to  temper  that  profpe- 
rity, and  by  flricl:  confequences,  give  direc- 
tion and  fteadinefs  to  public  manners. 
For,  it  never  can  be  made  a  queflion, 
whether  the  folidity  of  the  parts  mufl  not 
contribute  to  the  firmnefs  of  the  whole ; 
and  whether  the  virtue  exercifed  by  collec- 
tive bodies,  can  any  farther  be  hoped  for, 
than  as  it  exifts  in  the  individuals  who 
compofe  them.  But,  on  what  bafis  can 
this  fuperflru£lure  reft,  by  what  principle 

VOL.  I.  X  can 


306  RELIGION  NECESSARY 

can  individual  virtue  be  either  fubftantially 
promoted,  or  laftingly  fecurcd,  except  by 
that  fenfe  of  an  invifibie,  almighty,  and  in- 
finitely juft,  and  holy  fovereign  of  the  uni- 
verfe,  which  revelation  alone  has  effeftually 
difclofed  to  us,  and  reafon  has  recognized 
as  the  eifence  of  religion  ? 

Far  be  it,  indeed,  from  us  to  deny,  that 
this  religious  principle  may  not  frequently 
oppofe  itfelf  to  apparent  means  of  ag- 
grandizement, both  perfonal  and  national. 
Doubtleis  it  will  often  condemn  that  to 
which  human  pride  would  afpire.  Even 
when  an  objed;  might  in  itfelf  be  fairly 
defirable,  it  will  forbid  the  purfuit,  except 
through  lawful  paths.  But,  in  the  fevereft 
of  fuch  reftriftions,  it  only  facrifices  what 
is  fhadowy  to  what  is  fubllantial,  the 
evanefcent  triumphs  of  a  day  to  the  per- 
manent comfort  of  fucceffive  generations. 

But,  though  we  do  not  affert  that  na- 
tional profperity  is  always,  and  infallibly, 
an  indication  of  virtue,  and  of  the  diilin- 
guilhing  favour  of  God,  yet  we  conceive, 

that 


TO  THE  WELL-BEING  OF  STATES.     307 

that  luch  outward  marks  of  the  divine  fa- 
vour may  more  generally  be  expected, 
in  the  cafe  of  communities,  than  of  indi- 
viduals. In  communities  we  fee  not  fo 
much  the  effect  of  each  particular  acl  of 
virtue,  as  of  the  generally  diffufed  prin- 
ciple. Though  virtue  is  often  obftructed  in 
labouring  to  obtain  for  itfelf  the  advantages 
which  belong  to  it,  this  is  no  proof  againft 
its  having  a  tendency  to  obtain  them.  The 
natural  tendency,  indeed,  being  to  produce 
happinefs,  though  it  may  fail  to  do  it  in 
certain  excepted  cafes. 

In  the  cafe,  therefore,  of  communities 
and  Rates,  where  the  refult  of  many  actions, 
rather  than  the  particular  eifeft  of  each^  is 
feen,  it  may  not  altogether  unfairly  be 
afferted,  that  virtue  is  its  own  reward. 
Perhaps  it  alfo  may  be  affirmed,  that  the 
fyftem  of  temporal  rewards  and  punifh- 
ments,  which,  though  chiefly  exemplified  in 
the  Jewifh  difpenfation,  was  by  no  means 
confined  to  it,  has  not  equally  paffed  away, 
"With  re.peft  to  flates  and  nations,  as  with 

X  2  relpect 


3o8  RELIGION  NECESSARY 

refpecl  to  individuals.  The  learned  BofTuet 
has  obferved,  that  v/hile  the  New  Tefla- 
ment  manifefts  to  us  the  operation  of  God's 
grace,  the  Old  Teflament  exhibits  to  us 
his  providential  government  of  the  vi^orld. 
We  will  net  dwell  on  this  remark  further 
than  to  fuggeft,  that  even  in  this  view  the 
ftudy  of  the  Old  Teflament  may  not  be 
without  its  ufes,  even  to  the  modern  Statef- 
man,  as  we  know  that  the  Jewifli  law  has 
clearly  been  held  important,  by  fome  of 
our  wifeft  Legiflators. 

On  the  whole,  we  need  not  hefitate  to 
affert,  that  in  the  long  courfe  of  events, 
nothing,  that  is  morally  wrong,  can  be 
politically  right.  Nothing,  that  is  inequi- 
table, can  be  finally  fuccefsful.  Nothing, 
ihat  is  contrary  to  religion,  can  be  ulti- 
mately favourable  to  civil  policy.  We  may 
therefore  confidently  affirm,  that  impiety 
and  vice,  fooner  or  later,  bring  flates,  as 
well  as  individuals,  to  mifery  and  ruin. 
That,  though  vice  may  fometimes  contri- 
bute to  temporary  exaltation ;  in  the  fame 

degree. 


TO  THE  WELL-BEING  OF  STATES.      309 

degree,  it  will,  in  the  end,  contribute  to 
promote  decay,  and  accelerate  the  inevi- 
table period  of  diflblution. 

Let  it  then  be  ever  kept  in  view,  that  the 
true  exaltation  is,  in  fact,  that  profperity, 
which  arifes  from  the  goodnefs  of  the  laws, 
and  the  firmnefs  and  impartiality  with  which 
they  are  executed  ;  which  refults  from  mo- 
deration in  the  Government,  and  obedience 
in  the  people ;  from  wifdom  and  forefight 
in  council,  from  adivity  and  integrity  in 
commerce,  from  independence  of  national 
charader,  from  fortitude  in  rcfi fling  foreign 
attack,  and  zeal  in  promoting  domeftic 
harmony ;  from  patience  under  fufferings, 
hardinefs  in  danger,  zeal  in  the  love  of 
civil,  and  vigour  in  the  reprobation  of  favage 
liberty ;  from  a  fpirit  of  fairnefs  and  libe- 
rality in  making  treaties,  and  from  fidelity 
in  obferving  them.  Above  all,  from  a 
multiplication  of  individual  inflances  of 
family  comfort  and  independence,  from  the 
general  prevalence,  throughout  the  great 
mafs  of  the  people,  of  habits  of  induftry, 

X  3  fobriety, 


310  RELIGION  NECESSARY 

fobriety,  and  good  order,  from  the  praftice, 
in  fhort,  of  the  focial  and  domeftic  virtues  ; 
of  all  thofe  relative  duties  and  kindneffes, 
which  give  body  and  fubflance  to  the  vari- 
ous charities  of  life,  and  the  befl  feelings 
of  our  nature. 

If  finful  nations  appear  profperous  for  a 
time,  it  is  often  becaufe  there  has  been 
fome  proportion  of  good  mixed  with  the 
evil ;  or  it  is  becaufe  the  Providence  of  God 
means  to  ufe  the  temporary  fuccefs  of  guilty 
nations,  for  the  accompli ihment  of  his 
general  fcheme,  or  the  promotion  of  a 
particular  purpofe,  of  humbling  and  cor- 
reftir.g  other,  perhaps  lefs  guilty  nations  j 
or  it  is  becaufe  "  the  iniquity  of  the  Amo- 
rites  is  not  yet  full ;"  and  the  punifliment 
of  the  more  corrupt  Itates  is  delayed,  to 
make  their  ruin  more  fignal  and  tremen- 
dous, and  their  downfall  a  more  portentous 
objeft,  for  the  inftruftion  of  the  world. 
God,  without  any  impeachment  of  his 
moral  government,  may  withhold  retribu- 
tion, becaufe  it  is  alv/ays  in  his  power ;  he 

may 


TO  THE  WELL-BEING  OF  STATES.      -?  1 1 

may  be  long-fufFering,  becaufe  he  is  ever- 
lafting.  He  may  permit  the  calamity 
which  we  fee,  in  order  to  Gxt:a£i:  from  it 
the  good  which  we  fee  not.  He  is  never 
the  author  of  moral  evil,  and  the  natural 
evil,  which  he  does  authorize,  is  both  the 
punifhment,  and  the  corrective  of  the 
moral.  I'hough  God  never  intended  this 
world  for  fuch  a  complete  ftate  of  retri- 
bution, as  entirely  to  hinder  either  vice  or 
virtue  from  occafionally  receiving  the  re- 
compences,  and  the  penalties,  due  to  the 
other  ;  yet,  there  is  this  obvious  differencej 
between  nations  and  individuals,  that, 
whereas  individuals  the  mofl  virtuous  are 
often  the  mofl  vifited  with  temporal  mif- 
fortunes,  the  bed  governed  empires  are,  on 
the  whole,  the  molt  fccure  of  profperity. 
And  if,  in  the  calamities  brought  on  corrupt 
ftates,  the  innocent  always,  unavoidably, 
fuffer  with  the  guilty,  this  furnifhes  no  jufl 
charge  againft  the  equity  of  divine  Provi- 
dence, who  here  reckons  tremendoaily  v/ith 
the  ftate   as  a  ftate,   but   will,   feparately 

X  4  and 


312  RELIGION  NECESSARY,  &C. 

and  ultimately,  reckon  with  every  indivi- 
dual ;  and  thus  finally  and  fully  vindicate 
his  own  infinite,  and  much  calumniated 
juflice  *. 

*  See   BiiKop    Butler's  Analogy,   a  work  which 
cannot  be  too  ftrongly  recommended. 


CHAP, 


INTEGRITY  THE  TRUE,  ScC.        313 

CHAP.  XIX. 

Integrity  the  true  Political  Wl/dom. 

X  HE  tendency  of  a  religious  temper  to 
exalt  a  prince  into  a  hero,  might  be  fuf- 
ficiently  illuftrated  by  the  fmgle  inflance 
of  Louis  the  Ninth.  It  is  notorious,  that 
nothing  more  feverely  tries  the  character 
of  princes  as  well  as  of  individuals,  than 
remarkable  fuccefs.  It  was,  however,  in 
this  circumftance  precifcly,  that  the  prince 
juft  mentioned  evinced  how  completely 
his  Chriftian  temper  had  corrected,  both 
the  felfifhnefs  natural  to  man,  and  the  arro- 
gance habitual  to  profperity. 

When,  under  the  unfortunate  reign  of 
our  Henry  the  Third,  the  affairs  of  Eng- 
land were  reduced  to  a  lov/  condition, 
while  thofe  of  France  were  in  a  highly 
flourifliing  flate ;  Louis,  in  making  a 
treaty  with  England,  generoufly  refufcd 
to  take   an  unfair   advantage  of  the   mif- 

fortunes 


314  INTEGRITY  THE  TRUK 

fortunes  of  this  country,  or  to  avail  hiin- 
felf  to  the  utmoft  of  his  own  fuperiority. 
His  conceffions  to  the  depreffed  enemy 
were  liberal ;  and  he  foon  after  reaped 
the  reward  of  his  moderation,  in  the  confi- 
dence which  it  infpired.  Louis  was  chofen, 
both  by  Henry  and  his  nobles,  to  fettle 
the  differences  between  them.  In  con-  . 
fequence  of  the  recent  inflance  of  his 
public  integrity,  the  foreign  adverfary 
was  invited  to  be  the  arbiter  of  domellic 
difagreements  5  and  they  were  happily 
terminated  by  his  decifion.  Let  infidels 
remark,  to  the  difgrace  of  their  fcepti- 
cifm,  that  the  monarch  who  was,  per- 
haps, one  of  the  greatefl  inftances  of 
Chriflian  piety  and  devotion,  furniflied 
alfo  an  example  of  the  mod  linking  moral 
redlitude ! 

Henry  the  Fourth,  when  only  king  of 
Navarre,  difcovered  no  lefs  integrity  after 
his  glorious  vidory  at  Coutras.  Being 
alked  what  terms  he  would  require  from 
the  king  of  France,   after  gaining  fuch  a 

vidoryj 


POLITICAL  WISDOM.  315 

victory,    "  Jull    the   fame,"    replied    he, 
**  that  I  fhould  afk  after  lofmg  one." 

It  is,  however,  neceflary  to  obferve, 
that  integrity,  in  order  to  be  fuccefsful, 
muft  be  miiicrm.  Truth,  for  example, 
occafionally  fpoken,  may  not  afford  to 
the  fpeaker  any  part  of  the  profit  which 
attends  the  regular  obfervance  of  truth. 
The  error  of  corrupt  politicians  confills 
much  in  treating  each  queftion,  as  if  it 
were  an  infulated  cafe,  and  then  arguing, 
perhaps  not  unjuftly,  that  the  pradice  of 
virtue,  in  this  or  that  particular  inftance, 
will  not  be  productive  of  good ;  for- 
getting that  if,  in  all  inllances,  they  would 
be  virtuous,  they  would  then,  moll  pro- 
bably, obtain  the  fuccefs  and  full  reward 
of  virtue. 

We  know  that  even  in  that  particular 
branch  of  political  iranfadlions,  the  diplo- 
matic, wherein  the  flrongeil  temptations 
to  diflimulation  and  chicanery  are  held 
forth  to  little  mindK,  fome  of  the  mod 
able  and  fuccefsful  negotiators  have  gcnc- 

roufiy 


3l6  INTEGRITY  THE  TRUE 

roufly  difdained  the  ufe  of  any  fuch 
mean  expedients.  The  franknefs  and  in- 
tegrity of  Temple  and  De  Wit  are  not 
more  efteemed  by  the  morahft  for  their 
probity,  than  by  the  ftatefman  for  their 
true  wifdom.  What  can  there  be,  in- 
deed, fo  different  between  the  fituation 
of  two  public  men,  who  on  the  part  of 
their  feveral  countries  refpedively,  are 
negotiating  on  queftions  of  policy  or 
commerce ;  and  that  of  two  private  men 
who  are  treating  on  fome  bufmefs  of 
ordinary  life,  which  jQiould  render  impo- 
litic, in  the  public  concern,  that  honefly 
which,  in  the  private,  is  fo  univerfally 
acknowledged  to  be  the  beft  poHcy,  as  to 
have  grown  into  an  adage  of  univerfal 
and  unqualified  ■  acceptance.  Indeed,  as 
the  adage  may  refer  to  what  is  truly  po- 
litic in  the  long  run,  and  with  a  view  to 
general  confequences,  we  might  rather 
exped,  that  fraud  would  be  admiffible 
into  the  tranfaftions  of  private  men,  whofe 
fhort  fpan  of  life  might  not  be  likely  to 

be 


POLITICAL  WISDOM.  ^^7 

be  more  than   counterbalanced  by  future 
lofs  rather  than  in  the  concerns  of  Itates, 
■which,  by  containing  a  long  continued  ex- 
iflence,    a  political  identity,  under  ail  the 
fuGCcflive  generations  of  the  members   of 
which  they  are   compofed,  may  pay,   and 
pay  perhaps   feverely  too,   in  later  times, 
the   price    of  former   a<5ls    of  fraud    and 
treachery. — Again,  in  public,  no  lefs  than 
in  private  bufmefs,  will  not  any  one  find 
the  benefit  of  employing  an  agent,   who 
poiTefTes  a  high  charader  for  probity  and 
honour  ?     Will  not  larger  and  more  liberal 
concefTions  be  made  to  him  who  may  be 
fafely  relied  on  for  paying  their  equivalent  ? 
Once  more,  how  often  are  pubhc  wars,  as 
well   as   private   diilerences,   produced   or 
fermented   by   mutual    diftrufl !    and    how 
furely  v/ould  a  confidence  in  each  other's 
truth  and  honefly  tend  to  the  reftoration  of 
peace  and  harmony  !  Even  the  wily  Floren- 
tine *   allows,   that   it   is  advantageous   to 

♦  Machiavel. 

have 


318  INTEGRITY  THE  TRUE 

have  a  high  character  for  truth  and  upright- 
nefs.  And  how  can  this  character  be  in 
any  way  fo  well  obtained  as  by  deferving  it  ? 
It  is  the  difgrace  of  nations,  that  in  their 
diplomatic  concerns,  the  maxims  of  fohd 
■wifdom  have  not  been  always  obferved. 

Without  going  the  length  of  admitting 
the  truth  of  Sir  Henry  Wotton's  light  de- 
finition of  the  duties  of  an  ambaflador,  is  it 
not  too  often  afllimed,  that  the  laws  which 
bind  private  men,  and  which  would  doubt- 
kfs  bind  the  individual  minifter  himfelf,  in 
his  private  concerns,  may  occafionally  be 
difpenfed  with,  in  the  adminiflration  of 
public  affairs  ;  and  that  ftrict  truth,  for  in- 
ftance,  vvliich  in  the  ordinary  tranfadions 
of  life  is  allowed  to  be  indifpenfable,  is  too 
frequently  coniidered  as  impradicable  in 
diplomatic  negotiations  ? 

Don  Louis  De  Haro,  the  Spanifli  minifter, 
at  the  treaty  of  the  Pyrenees,  feems  to  have 
entertained  juft  views  of  the  value  of  fimple 
integrity  in  politicians,  for  fpeaking  oi 
Cardinal  Mazarin,  with  whom  he  was  ne- 
gotiating. 


POLITICAL  WISDOM.  31Q 

gotlating,  he  faid,  "  that  man  always  pur- 
fues  one  great  error  in  politics,  he  would 
always  deceive."  Mazarin  was  a  deep  dif- 
fembler  and  a  narrow  genius  *  j  fo  true  it  is, 
that  vanity  and  fhort-fifrhtednefs  are  com- 
n^only  at  the  bottom  of  diliimulation,  though 
it  be  praO:ifed  from  a  totally  oppolite  idea ; 
worldly  politicians  frequently  falling  into  the 
error  of  fancying,  that  craft  and  circum- 
vention are  indications  of  genius  :  While, 
in  reality,  fufpicion  is  the  wifdom  of  a  little 
mind,  and  diftrufl  the  mean  and  inefficient 
fubflitute  for  the  penetration  of  a  great  one. 
Many,  fays  Lord  Bacon,  who  know  how  to 
pack  the  cards,  cannot  play  them  well.  Many 
who  can   manage   canvaffes   and   factions, 

*  Mazarin  himfelf  had  fpread  his  own  maxims 
to  fuch  good  purpofe,  that  one  of  his  creatures^ 
whom  he  intended  to  fend  to  negotiate  with  the  Duke 
of  Savoy,  implored  his  Eminence  not  to  infifl;  on  his 
deceiving  the  Duke  juj'l  at  thai  thne,  as  the  bufincfs 
was  but  a  trifle  ;  bccaufe  he  thought  it  would  anfwer 
better  to  referve  the  facrifice  of  his  rcpntation  for 
deceiving,  till  fomc  more  important  objcdl  was  at 
itake. 

8  are 


320  INTEGRITY  THE  TRUg 

are  yet  not  wife  men.  Confidering  the  credit 
which  fmcerity  ftamps  on  a  political  cha- 
rafter,  it  is  fo  far  from  being  oppofed  to 
difcretion,  that  it  conflitutes  the  befl  part 
of  it.  True  rectitude  neither  implies  nor 
requires  imprudence  ;  while  it  coils  a  poli- 
tician as  much  trouble  to  maintain  the  re- 
putation of  a  quality  which  he  has  not,  as 
it  would  really  cod  him  to  acquire  it.  The 
mazes  and  windings,  the  doublings  and 
intricacies  of  intriguing  fpirits,  ultimately 
miflead  them  from  the  end  they  purfue. 
They  excite  jeaioufy,  they  roufe  refentment, 
they  confirm  fufpicion,  they  flrengthen 
prejudices,  they  foment  differences ;  and 
thus  call  into  a6lion  a  number  of  paffions, 
which  commonly  oppofe  themfelves  to  the 
accomplifliment  of  their  defigns.  Politi- 
cians therefore  would  do  well  to  remember 
the  remark  of  the  learned  Barrow,  who 
was  as  great  a  proficient  in  mathematics,  as 
in  morality,  that  "  the  flraitefl  line  is  al- 
ways the  Ihorteil  line,  in  morals,  as  well 
as  in  geometry."  When  the  charader  of 
Q  inte- 


POLITICAL    WISDOM.  32J 

integrity  is  once  loft,  falfehood  itfelf  lofes 
all  its  ufes.  The  known  dilTembler  is  fuf- 
pefted  of  infincerity  even  when  he  does 
not  pradife  It,  and  is  no  longer  trufted, 
though  he  may  happen  to  deferve  to 
befo. 

The  character  of  Lord  Sunderland  pre- 
fents  a  ftriking  inftance  of  the  poHtical  in- 
efficacy  of  duplicity.  His  fuperior  genius, 
fo  admirably  qualified  for  bufmefs,  availed 
him  but  little  in  fecuring  the  public 
efteem,  when  it  was  obferved,  that  of 
three  fucceffive  princes,  who  feverally  fet 
out  with  a  view  to  eftablifh  different  inte-^ 
refts,  he  gained  the  favour  of  all,  by  adopt- 
ing the  fyftem  of  each,  with  the  fame  ac- 
commodating verfatility.  His  reputation  for 
honefty  funk,  and  he  ccafed  to  be  trufted 
in  the  degree  in  which  he  came  to  be 
known. 

We  fometimes  hear  the  more  decent 
politicians,  who  fanclion  the  appearances, 
and  commend  the  outward  obfervances  of 
religion,    lament    that    religion    does    not 

VOL.  I.'  Y  produce 


' , 


322  INTEGRITY  THE  TRUE 

produce  any  great  efFe£ls  upon  fociety. 
And  they  are  right,  if  by  religion  they 
mean  that  fhell  and  furface,  which  merely 
ferve  to  fave  appearances.  But,  is  it  not 
to  be  feared,  that  thefe  very  politicians 
fometimes  difbelieve  the  reality,  and  the 
power  of  that  religion,  the  exterior  of 
which  thev  allow  to  be  decorous  ?  Yet, 
this  reality  and  power,  believed  and 
a£led  upon,  would  certainly  produce  more 
fubflantial  efFeds  than  can  ever  rationally 
be  expe£led  from  mere  forms  and  fha- 
dows.  Thefe  fage  perfons  frequently  la- 
ment the  deficiency  of  morals  in  fociety, 
but  never  the  want  of  religion  in  the  heart. 
Though,  to  expedt  that  morality  to  be 
firm,  which  ftands  on  no  religious  founda- 
tion, is  to  exped  liability  from  an  inverted 
pyramid. 

Befides,  it  is  infinitely  laborious  to  main- 
tain an  undeviating  courfe  of  diffimulation, 
a  moment's  intermiflion  of  which  may  de- 
feat the  policy  of  years.  Yet,  this  unre- 
mitting  attention,  this   wearying  watchful- 

nefs, 


POLITICAL    WISDOM.  323 

nel'g,  is  efiential  to  that  worldly  policy, 
of  which  South  fays,  that  "  Folly  being 
the  fuperftrudure,  it  is  but  realon,  that 
the  foundation  fhould  be  falfity."  The  fame 
acute  judge  of  mankind  obferves,  that  the 
defigning  politicians  of  the  party  he  was 
combating,  feemed  to  a£l  as  if  they  thought 
"  that  fpeech  was  given  to  ordinary  men  to 
communicate  their  mind,  but  to  wife  men 
for  concealing  it." 

The  difTembler  fhould  alfo  remember, 
that  however  deeply  intereft  and  induflry 
enable  him  to  lay  his  plans,  the  intereft  and 
induflry  of  others  will  be  equally  at  work 
to  detect  them.  Befides,  the  deepell  po- 
litician can  carry  on  no  great  fchemes  alone, 
and  as  all  afTociation  depends  on  opinion, 
few  will  lend  their  aid,  or  commit  their 
fafety  to  one  whofe  general  want  of  probity 
forbids  the  hope  of  perpetual  confidence,  or 
of  permanent  fecurity. 

Why  do  many  politicians  fail  finally  of 
the  full  accomplifhment  of  their  objeft  ? 
Not  for  want  of  genius  to  lay  a  plaufible 

Y  2  plan 


524  INTEGRITY  THE  TRUE 

plan  ;  not  for  want  of  judgment  to  feize 
ine  moH  favourable  occafions ;  not  for 
want  of  due  contempt  of  confcientious 
fcruples  in  pufliing  thofe  occafions  ;  not  for 
want  of  fearlefs  impiety  in  giving  full  fcope 
to  their  defigns  ;  but  from  that  ever  wake- 
ful Providence,  which,  if  he  does  not  dafli 
their  projects  before  they  are  acted,  defeats 
the  main  intention  afterwards. — Even  the 
fuccefsful  ufurper,  Cromwel),  lofl  the  con- 
fidence of  his  army,  when  they  found,  in 
the  feqilel,  that  he  meant  to  place  himfelf  on 
the  very  throne  which  he  had  made  them 
believe  it  was  his  great  obje£t  to  abolifh. 
Nor  was  he  ever  able  to  adorn  his  own 
brows  with  that  crown,  for  the  hope  of 
which  he  had  waded  through  a  fea  of 
crimes.  The  very  means  employed  by 
Alexander  the  Sixth,  and  Csefar  Borgia,  to 
deilroy  the  Cai'dinals,  rebounded  on  them- 
felves,  and  both  were  poifoned  by  the  very 
wine  Avhich  they  had  prepared  for  the  de- 
ftruction  of  their  guells. 


It 


POLITICAL    WISDOM.  325 

It  is,  therefore,  the  only  fafety,  and  the 
only  wifdom  and  the  only  fare,  unfading 
prudence,  inilead  of  purfuing  our  own 
devious  paths,  to  commit  our  concerns  to 
Gcd  J  to  walk  in  his  ftraight  ways,  and 
obey  his  plain  commands.  For,  after 
all,  the  widefl  fphere  of  a  mere  worldly 
pohtician  is  but  narrow.  The  wifdom  of 
this  world  is  bounded  by  this  world,  the 
dimenfions  of  which  are  fo  contracted,  and 
its  duration  fo  fliort,  in  the  eye  of  true 
philofophy,  as  to  ftrip  it  of  all  real  gran- 
deur. All  the  enjoyments  of  this  world, 
fays  the  eloquent  South,  are  much  too  lliort 
for  an  immortal  foul  to  ftretch  itfelf  upon  : 
a  foul  which  fhall  perfiil  in  being  not  only 
when  honour  and  fame,  but  when  time 
itfelf  Ihall  ceafe  to  be.  The  deepeft  worldly 
projector,  with  the  widefl:  views,  and  the 
flrongefl:  energies,  even  when  flufned  with 
fuccefs,  muft,  if  his  mind  has  never  learned 
to  flioot  forward  into  the  boundlefs  eternity 
of  an  unfcen  world,  feel  his  genius  cramped, 
his  wing   flag,   and   his   fpirit   at  a  Hand, 

V  3  There 


326  INTEGRITY  THE  TRUE 

Tliere  feems  to  have  been  a  fpark  of  the 
immortal  fire  even  in  the  regrets  of  Alex- 
ander. It  is  probable  he  would  not  have 
wept,  becaufe  he  had  no  more  worlds  to 
conquer,  had  he  not  deeply  felt  the  fling 
of  difappointment  at  finding  no  joy  in  hav- 
ing conquered  this,  and  thence  inferred  a. 
kind  of  vague  and  fhapelefs  idea  of  ano- 
ther. There  will  be  always  too  vafl  a 
difproportion  between  the  appetites  and 
enjoyments  of  the  ambitious  to  admit  of 
their  being  happy.  Nothing  can  fill  the 
defires  of  a  great  foul,  but  wha,t  he  is  per- 
fuaded  will  lall  as  long  as  he  himfelf  fhall 
laft. 

To  worldly  minds  it  would  found  paradox- 
ical to  affert  that  ambition  is  a  little  paffion. 
To  affirm  that  if  really  great  views,  and 
truly  enlarged  notions  were  impreffed  upon 
the  foul,  they  would  be  fo  far  from  pro- 
moting that  they  would  cure  this  paflion. 
The  excellent  Bifhop  Berkeley,  beholding 
the  ravages  which  ambition  had  made  in 
his  time  in  France,  could  not  help  wifhing 

that 


i 


POLITICAL   WISDOM.  327 

that  its  encroaching  monarch  had  been  bred 
to  the  (ludy  of  aflronomy,  that  he  might 
learn  from  thence  how  mean  and  little 
that  ambition  is  which  terminates  in  a  fmall 
part  of  what  is  itfelf  but  a  point,  compared 
with  that  part  of  the  univerfe  which  lies 
within  our  view. 

But,  if  aflronomy  Ihews  the  diminu- 
tivenefs  of  that  globe,  for  a  very  fmall  por- 
tion of  which  kings  contend,  in  comparifon 
with  the  univerfe,  how  much  nobler  a  cure 
does  Chriftianity  provide  for  ambition,  by 
fhewing  that  not  this  globe  only,  but  the 
whole  univerfe  alfo. 

Yea,  all  that  it  inherits,  fhall  difTolve  ; 

by  reminding  the  ambitious  of  the  utter 
infufficiency,  to  true  glory  or  real  happinefs, 
of  all  that  has  been  created,  of  all  that 
fhall  have  an  end  ;  by  carrying  on  their  views 
to  that  invifible,  eternal  world,  which  to  us 
fhall  then  emphatically  begin  to  be,  when 
all  which  we  beheld  fhall  be  no  more. 

He,  therefore,  is  the  only  true  politician 
who  uniformly  makes  the  eternal  laws  of 

truth 


328  INTEGRITY  THE  TRUE 

truth  and  rcditude,  as  revealed  from  heaven, 
the  ftandard  of  his  aclions,  and  the  mea- 
fure  of  his  ambition.     "  To  do  juftly,"  is 
pecuHarly  the  high  and  holy  vocation  of  a 
Prince.     And  both  Princes  and  politicians 
would  do  well  to  enquire,  not  only  whether 
their    fcheme    Vvas    planned  with  fagacity, 
and  executed  with  fpirit,  but  whether  they 
have    fo  conducted  it,    as  to  leave  proper 
room,  if  we  may  fo  fpeak,  for  the  favour- 
able interference  of  God  ;    whether    they 
have  fupplicated  his  blefling,  and  given  to 
him  the  glory  of  its  happy  iflue  ?     Perhaps 
more    well-meant  endeavours  fail  through 
neglecl    in    thefe    refpefts,   particularly  of 
fervent  prayer  for  fuccefs,  than  through  any 
deficiency  in  the  wifdom  of  the  plan  itfelf. 
But  becaufe  under  a  fanatic  ufurpation,  in 
the  feventeenth  century,  hypocrites  abufcd 
this    duty,    and    degraded  its  fandlity,    by 
what  they  pYohnelj  called  feeki?2g  t be  Lord  ; 
the  friends  of  the  reftored  Conftitution  too 
generally  took  up  the  notion,  that  irrebgion 
was  a  proof  of  fnicerity,  and  that  the  fureft 

way 


POLITICAL    WISDOM.  329 

way  to  avoid  the  hypocrify,  was  to  omit  the 
dutv. 

We  cannot  too  (Irongly  cenfure  that 
moft  miflaken  pradice,  which,  at  the  period 
before  mentioned,  reduced  the  language  of 
fcripture  to  that  of  common  converfation  ; 
nor  too  warmly  condemn  that  falfe  tafte, 
which  by  quaint  allufions,  forced  conceits, 
and  {trained  allegories,  wrefled  the  Bible 
to  every  ordinary  purpofe,  and  debafed  its 
dignity,  by  this  colloquial  familiarity.  But 
is  there  no  danger  of  falling  into  the  oppo- 
fite  error  ?  If  fome  have  unfeafonably  forced 
it  into  the  fervice,  on  occafions  to  which  it 
could  never  apply  ;  may  not  others  acquire 
the  habit  of  thinking  it  feafonable  on  no 
occafion  at  all  ? 

Again — how  flrangely  do  we  overlook 
the  confummate  wifdom,  as  well  as  good- 
nefs  of  God,  in  having  made  that  pratlice 
of  prayer,  the  inftrument  of  obtaining  his 
blcfling,  which  is  fo  powerfully  operative  in 
purifying  and  elevating  our  own  hearts. 
Politicians,    with   all  their  fagacity,  would 

do 


^^O  INTEGRITY  THE  TRUE 

do  well  to  learn,  that  it  is  likewife  one  of 
the  many  beneficial  efFeds  of  prayer,  that 
it  not  only  reafonably  increafes  our  hopes 
of  fuccefs,  but  teaches  us  to  acquiefce  in 
difappointment*  They  fhould  learn  alfo, 
not  to  wonder,  if  God  refufes  to  anfwer 
thofe  prayers,  which  are  occafionally  put 
up  on  great  public  emergencies,  when  thofe 
who  offer  them  do  not  live  in  the  exercife 
of  habitual  devotion.  They  fhould  take  it 
as  an  axiom  of  good  experience  from  the 
incomparable  Hooker,  that  *'  All  things 
religioufly  begun  are  profperoufly  ended  ; 
becaufe  whether  men,  in  the  end,  have  that 
which  religion  allowed  them  to  defire,  oi* 
that  which  it  teacheth  them  contentedly  to 
fuffer,  they  are,  in  neither  event,  unfortu- 


nate." 


Nor  will  a  truly  pious  Prince  ever  be 
eventually  defeated  in  his  defigns ;  he  may 
not  indeed  be  fuccefsful  in  every  negotia- 
tion, he  may  not  be  vidorious  in  every 
battle ;  yet  in  his  leading  purpofe  he  will 
never  be  difappointed.  For  his  ultimate 
5  end 


POLITICAL  WISDOM*  33I 

end  was  to  a£l  confcientioufly,  to  procure 
the  favour  of  God,  to  advance  the  beft  in- 
terefts  of  his  people,  and  to  fecure  his  owa 
eternal  happinefs.  Whatever  the  event 
may  be  to  others,  to  himfelf  it  mufl  be 
finally  good.  The  effe6i  of  righteoufnefs  is 
peace.  Ma,-  k  the  perfeSl  man^  and  behold 
the  upright^  for  the  end  of  that  man  is 
peace.  And,  to  conclude  in  the  words  of 
the  able  and  profound  Barrow — "  If  God 
Ihall  not  ceafe  to  be  ;  if  he  will  not  let  go 
the  reins  ;  if  his  word  cannot  deceive ;  if 
the  wifeft  men  are  not  infatuated;  if  the 
common  fenfe  of  mankind  is  not  extrava- 
gant ;  if  the  main  props  of  life,  if  the  great 
pillars  of  Society  do  not  fail ; — he  that 
walketh  uprightly,  doth  proceed  on  fure 
grounds." 

END  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 


•;•.•■*'    ■■'■   V-Tftf.-.. 


Srrahan  snCrieftoa,:^. 
Priutert-Sue^i  LondoiuV 


\J^ 


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