Full text of "Works"
BE*
gWMM
WORKS
Of THE
HIGHT .REVEREND
WILLIAM WARBURTON,D.D,
^
JLOliJ) BISHOP OF GLOUCESTER.
A NEW EDITION,
IN TWELVE VOLUMES,
TO WHICH 13
-A DISCOURSE BY WAY OF GENERAL PREFACE*,
COVTAININO
.OME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE, WRITINGS, AND CHARACTER
OF THE AUTHOR;
BY RICHARD HURD, D.D,
BISHOP OF WORCESTER, ft r /
X/V
v \\
VOLUME THE ELEVENTH,
f. rutted by ItSse Hansard $ Sons, near LwicoinVJwn Fi^rf^,
FOE T. CADLL AND W. DA VIES, IN TJ1E STRANO.
-1.21 1..
CONTENTS
V O L. XL
CONTROVERSIAL TRACTS
PART I.
I. A VINDICATION of the Author of the Divine Legat iorf
of Moses, fyc.from the Aspersions of the Country Clergy
man s Letter in the Weekly Miscellany of Feb. 24, 1737,
pp. i 12
II. ACRITIC ALAND PHILOSOPHICAL COMMENTARY
on Mr. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN : in which is contained
a Vindication of the said Essay from the< Misrepresent
tafions of Mr. de Resnel, the French Translator; and
of Mr. de Crousaz, the Commentator : In Four Letters,
pp. 13146
III. REMARKS on a Book, entitled " Future Reward*
and Punishments believed hy the Ancients, particularly
the Philosophers; wherein some Objections of the
Rev. Mr. Wai-burton, in his Divine Legation of Moses,
are considered. 1742:" With a POSTSCRIPT, in Answer
to some Objections of Dr. SYKES; and a LETTER to
Bishop SUALLBBOOK PP< 347220
iy CONTENTS OF ELEVENTH VOLUME.
IV. REMARKS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONAL
REFLECTIONS;
TART I.
IB answer to the Rev. Dr. Middletcn, Dr. Pococke, the
Master of the Charter-House, Dr. Richard Grey, and
others; Serving to explain and justify divers Passages
in " the Divine Legation" objected to by those learned
Writers. To which is added, A General Review of the
Argument of tht Divine Legation, as far as is yet ad
vanced : wherein is considered the Relation the several
Parts bear io each other, and to the Whole. Together
with an APPENDIX, in Answer to a iate Pamphlet,
entitled, M An Examination of Mr. W. s Second Proposi
tion" * pp. 221342
PART IT.
In answer to the Rev. Drs, Stebbmg &, Sykes : Sej-ving to
explain and justify the two Dissertations in a thz Divint
Legation" concerning the Coaimaad to Abraham to offer
p his Son, aiid the Nature of the Jewish Theocracy;
Olyected to by those learned Writers - ,pp. 343 428
A
VINDICATION
I
OF THE
AUTHOR
OF
fHE DIVINE LEGATION OF MOSES, %c.
FROM
THE ASPERSIONS OF THE COUNTRY CLERGYMAN S LETTER
IN THE
WEEKLY MISCELLANY
bf FEB. 24, 1737.
AFTER having twice offered my Thoughts to the
Public, on two very Important Subjects, and had the
honour to be favourably heard, it must needs be a suffi
cient mortification to me to be obliged to descend to so
low a subject as myself. That, and the deference due to
the Public, had certainly restrained this appeal to it, had
the matter terminated there. But when the accusation
intended against me appeared visibly designed to render
a projected defence of Revelation suspected ; which, I
will presume (and, as the author of it, the Reader will
excuse me for presuming) may be of some small service
to our holy faith, I thought it my duty to vindicate my
self, in this public manner, from the horrid accusations
of a letter-writer in the Weekly Miscellany of the 24th of
February last. Whether this was the true motive of this
Vindication will be best seen by the temper in which it
is written. The letter-writer begins with me in this
manner, A late Writer, the Author of the Divine Le^
gallon of Moses, 8$c. is very severe upon ALL Clergy
men who take the liberty of censuring the conduct OF
VOL. XL # ANT
VINDICATION OF THE AUTHOR
OF THEIR BRETHREN. The passage, on which
this accusation is founded, is in p. 21* of the Dedication
/ appeal then to the Public, whether my severity tails
on those who cemurc the conduct of any of their brethren:
or on those, who abuse the whole bccly of the Clergy,
considered as an Order instituted by Christ, and establish
ed by the State.
He goes on, Tf I am capable of understanding the
weaning and drift of his- Rook, he had reason to appre
hend it might draw upon h>m the censures of all the
Clergy who are sincere friends to Christianity therefore
it wight be politic to obviate the force of such animad
versions beforehand. Had I been conscious of deserving
the censure of any honest man, 1 had done, Hke those
who delight in mischief; 1 had wounded in the dark.
But when I chose to write without a name, it was for
v>ery contrary purposes. When I presumed to publish
(in defence of the Established Clergy) a vindication of the
Church of England, under the title of The Alliance be
tween Church and State, which surely might deserve
their pardon, lest the World should imagine I expected
more, I put it out without my name. And now \\riting
in the common cause of Christianity, I have publicly
owned it. For if ever the suspicion of being ashamed of
the faith of Jesus be more carefully to be avoided at one
time than at another, it must certainly be in this, when
infidelity is become so reputable as to be esteemed a test
of superior part* and discernment.
He proceeds, 1 shall add, that if he really weans to
defend Christianity, he hath published the weakest defence
of it that I have ever read. How are we to understand
him here? Must we rectify the proposition thus, Ij t the
Author gives this volume as a defence of Christianity,
then it is the weakest? The consequence will then in
deed be true. But I had cut off all pretence for begging
the premisses. For I have formally and expressly said
in the beginning, and repeated it towards the end, that
the design of this volume | was only preparatory to the
defence of Revelation, and to prove the use of Religion
* 1st Edit,
f Containing Books I. II.
m
FROM ASPERSIONS OF WEBSTER. 3
in general, and the doctrine of a future state in por
ticular to civil society. And had I not said this, the
Book itself would shew that it is no more a defence of
Christianity than the first proposition of the three terms
is a syllogism.
But if the letter- writer means, what his words express
That if I have a serious purpose of defending Christianity,
this volume is the weakest defence his premisses will be
true indeed, but then they will have no relation to his
conclusion. For it does not follow from those premisses,
that this is any defence at all ; any more than that, if I
had a serious purpose of building a house, the foundation-
stones were tiiat house.
The deference due to the Public, from so obscure a
writer as myself, was the true reason why this first part
came out separately j the Author not presuming to ob
trude a voluminous work upon it till he had some assur
ance of its willingness to receive it. But the same regard
that obliged me to this conduct, would not suffer me to
make a secret of the medium by which I pretended to
establish my demonstration, especially as it had the for
tune to be generally esteemed a paradox. I therefore
gave the proof inform two years ago in the Appendix to
The. Alliance between Church and State. There it is to be
found ; and had the letter-writer, instead of indulging
his monstrous suspicions of the Author, turned himself to
making objections to his argument, he might possibly
have then as much served truth as he now has violated
charity.
He goes on, He is a warmer advocate for Dr. ,
K- ho denies the divine inspiration of the Scriptures, than
for the Scriptures themselves. How warm an advocate
I am for him, we shall see by and by ; how true an
accuser the letter- writer is of him, we shall examine at
present. Dr. says*, it is NECESSARY to believe o>
the Scriptures in general that they are divinely inspin
and that all which he denies is, that the Scriptures
arc of absolute and universal inspiration^. He shews
that Tillotson and Grotius were of the same opinion,
* Remarks on a Reply to the Defence of a Letter to Dr. W. p. 69.
t Ibid. p. 70*
B 2 whOj
4 VINDICATION OF THE AUTHOR
who, he charitably presumes, were Christians. And
as he tells his friends and acquaintance the same he tells
the Public, the letter-writer must excuse me, if I believe
a man whose candour, sincerity, benevolence, and chanty
I have experienced, before him, who has not given me
the pleasure of remarking in him any of those Christian
qualities.
But I would not have the letter-writer infer, that, be
cause he has been pleased to make me Dr. - s advo
cate, I am to be responsible for his opinions. I differ
widely from him in the matter of inspiration, and as
widely in some others. But we can differ from each
other, and avow and maintain our difference of opinion,
without violation of common -humanity, friendship, or
Christian charity. I will give the letter- writer another
instance of difference in opinion between us, from this
very Book he so much condemns. "The writer of the
Defence of the. Letter to Dr. JV. p. 45, says, Is the
notion of the divine origin of the law and inspiration of
Moses to be resolved into fiction, or fable, or political
lying ? No, far be it from me to think or say so. But
this perhaps one may venture to say, that the supposition
<>f some degree of suck fiction may possibly be found
necessary to the solving the difficulties of tlie Mosaic
Writings, without any hurt to their authority, or ad-
>i :>ntage to injidelity. I am, as I say, of a different
opinion. The writer endeavours to support his by several
arguments ; amongst which one is, the professions and
example of the ancient sages and legislators. Now, in
the Second Section of my Third Book I have inquired
into the principles that induced the ancient sages and
legislators to deem it lawful to deceive for the public
good ; in the discovery of which, I think, I have made it
evident that those reasons or principles could have no
place amongst the founders and propagators of the Jewish
and Christian religions. This truth (as well as several
others interspersed throughout this First Volume, and
which may perhaps give offence to the indiscreet zeal of
the letter-writer) is in my next volume * applied and in-
forced to the overthrowing that opinion that some degree
* Containing Books IV. V. VI.
FROM ASPERSIONS OF WEBSTER. 5
offction may be necessary, &?c. And even in this? I
could not forbear, in the most conspicuous place of my
Book, to shew the use of it } as may be seen by these
words of the Contents, B. III. S. 2. The principles,
that induced the ancient sages to deem it laivful to de
ceive for public good in matters of religion, are explained
AND SHEWN TO BE SUCH AS HAD NO PLACE! IN THE
PROPAGATION OR GENIUS OF THE JEWISH AND CHRIS
TIAN ItELIGlONS.
But I arn a warm advocate for Dr. . In what ?
I have called him a very formidable adversary to the
Free-Thinkers. And I think I had reason : for the
arguments he hath used for the TRUTH of Christianity
against Tindal have never yet been answered by them, nor
I think ever can. I say for the truth of Christianity; for his
reasonings, from p. 59 to 64*, relate only to its truth,
and can be understood in no other sense. After this, to
think he would have Christianity supported only because
it is useful, is such a way of interpreting a writer as my
charity will never suffer me to follow.
The opinion I have of Dr. s abilities, and of the
sincerity of his professions, were the true reasons of that
esteem I express for him ; being desirous of allaying all
disgust, if any hath arisen in him, from the treatment of
his less candid adversaries ; and of engaging him to a
further and more compleat vindication of our holy faith,
at a time when the good dispositions of the meanest
advocate for Revelation should not, I think> in pru
dence be discouraged: Nay, was I so unhappy to
think of Dr. as the letter-writer is disposed to
do, I should yet be inclined to behave myself very
differently towards him. I should be so far from
estranging him further from the faith by uncharitable
anathemas, that I should do all I could to court and
allure him to Christianity, by thinking well of ~ its pro
fessors. Thus much, I conceive, Christian charity
would requir^ and how far Christian policy would per
suade, let the learned say, who know what ornament his
pen would be to the Christian faith, and his acquaintance
of what example his morals to Christian practice.
* Letter to Dr. W.
B 3 But
6 VINDICATION OF THE AUTHOR
But the letter-writer, having taken it into his head, that
Dr. *s true sentiments are, that Christianity can only
be defended as useful in the present circumstances of lite,
makes, as it would seem, this imagination the key to my
real sentiments and designs in defending Revelation.
Hence those strange expressions If I am oc/v^jt of
understanding the meaning and drift oj hit* took he
must excuse me, if I suspect his faith and ccndenm his
booh This I am sure of, the author must be a subtile
enemy to Revelation, or a very indiscreet friend Jmu&t
own he has left me in no doubt. Now if those be Dr. s
true sentiments, which yet I no more believe than that
Tindal was a Christian in his heart, I shall not scruple
to say that he whom 1 called one of the most formidable
of the Free-thinkers adversaries, is indeed one of the
weakest and most contemptible. But if they be mine,
after all I have said in this volume, 4 will not scruple to
say, that that character would be far too mild for me ;
and that it would be but justice to esteem me the most
abandoned writer that ever appeared in any cause.
Let us now take this key, and apply it to what I have
written. And it will indeed thoroughly serve the letter-
writer s declared purpose to lessen my credit, For it will
make the whole volume a heap of absurdities and contra
dictions. But lay aside this visionary key, end let me be
interpreted by those common rules that all mankind have
ever used in understanding one another, and then it \\ill
be seen I could not possibly have had any other intention
than TO PROVE MOSES TO BE A TRUE PROPHET SENT
IMMEDIATELY AND EXTRAORDINARILY FROM GOD.
I pretend to do it from Moses s omission of the doctrine
of a future state; which under an unequal Providence, is
(as I have shewn in this Book, that being the only end of
writing it) absolutely necessary to society. From whence
I conclude Moses $ pretensions were true : who assured
the Israelites that God had chosen them to be his people,
had condescended to be their king, and ^ould conse
quently govern them by an EQUAL, that is an EXTRAOR
DINARY PROVIDENCE; which conclusion (that appears
almost self-evident) I employ my second volume to sup
port, illustrate, and free from objections,
12 Hence
FROM ASPERSIONS OF WEBSTER. i
Hence it appears on what account I so much insist on
the usefulness and necessity of religion in general, and
the. doctrine of a future state in particular to society.
The course of my argument, and all the rules of logic,
obliged me to this conduct: and indeed I thought it the
peculiar happiness of my argument that they did so; for
I suppose, till the intidels be convinced that religion is
useful to civil society, they will never be brought to be
lieve it true.
I now haste to the other part of the letter-writer s
charge, lest he should be tempted, in his impatience, to
repeat it ; and say again, that / am a warmer advocate
for Dr. than for the Scriptures. The Reader,
who has never seen my book, will naturally conclude
from these words, that either I had undervalued Scrip
ture, or at least neglected a fair opportunity of vindicat
ing it. He will bti surprised to be told that the latter
part of the charge was only for completing the antithesis.
So indeed it appears to me ; but the Reader shall judge
for himself.
There are but two places in this volume, in which I
had occasion to make observations on the Scripture ; the
one is, where I endeavour to shew that the argument
which the Commentators use to prove the Pentateuch
(against Sphiosa and others) to be written by Moses^
is a very strong and solid one. The other is, where
I say, that the New Testament dees not contain any
regular or compleat system or digest of moral laics ;
the occasional precepts there delivered, how excellent
and divine soever, arising only jrcm conjunctures and
circumstances that were the subjects of those preachings
or writings, in which suck precepts are found. For the
rest, for a general knowledge of the whole body of moral
duty, the great pandect of the law of nature is held open
by it to be searched and studied. Finally, says the Apostle
Paul, Whatsoever things are true, < c. *
I suppose then, if the letter-writer had any particular
meaning, this was the place that was to justify him in
saying that / was no warm advocate for the Scriptures.
But does the New Testament contain any such compleat
or regular system ? will the letter-writer say so ? will any
one besides say so ? How weak and indiscreet a friend
fi 4 oeve*
8 VINDICATION OF THE AUTHOR
soever he may please to think me of religion, I will assure
the_ Reader, that as I make it one point of my religion to
say nothing but what I think the truth, so I do not use to
throw about those truths at random. The observation
was here necessary to overthrow the most pernicious
doctrine that ever infected society. If it was true, then,
it was not untimely urged. But had the letter-writer had
a little patience, he would have seen in the second volume
(as that will be the case of many other truths interspersed
throughout the first) that, by the assistance of this very
truth, I overthrow a prevailing notion, which I suppose,
He, no more than /, will think very orthodox, namely,
that Christianity is ONLY a republication of the Re
ligion of Nature.
.This, I can assure the Reader, is the case of all other
principles occasionally laid down in this first volume,
which are riot only here used to prove the usefulness and
truth of religion in general, but are in the next volume
applied to prove the truth of Revelation in particular.
To give one instance at present, in the Sixth Section of
the Second Book, I have attempted to explain the nature
of Paganism, as distinguished from true Revelation ;
where I have shewn, that though they abounded in pre
tended revelations, they were utter strangers to the idea
of one revelation s being founded upon, or the completion
of another. This principle I apply and inforce in the
second volume against the fourth chapter of Collinses
Ground* and Reasons of the Christian Religion, where
Jie la^s it down for one of his fundamental principles
(against all antiquity and fact) that it is a common and
necessary method jor new revelations to be built and
grounded on precedent revelations.
The letter- writer proceeds Mr. War burton modestly
says, they [the English Clergy} haye undertaken to prove
Christianity without understanding it. As in the case
before, about censuring the conduct of Clergymen, the
letter- writer turned what I said in general of the body,
particularly^ to individuals ; so here, by a strange per
versity, he turns what I said particularly of $ome certain
persons, generally, to the English Clergy. J\ly words
are these : Who^ in this long Controversy between us
atut the Deists, hath not applied to certain late Advo-,
cafes
~
FROM ASPERSIONS OF WEBSTER. 9
cates of Revelation what was formerly said of Arnobius
and Lactantius, that they undertook the defence of
Christianity before they understood it?
But have none but Englishmen wrote of late in de
fence of Christianity ? Have no Englishmen but the
English Clergy wrote in defence of it ? If neither of
these questions can "be answered in the negative, I would
ask a third, What possessed the letter-writer to bear wit-
ncsb against me, to the world, that I have any where said
that the English Clergy have undertaken, to prove
Christianity without understanding it ? I solemnly de
clare, that in the passage above quoted I meant no
English Clergyman whatsoever. >So far from that, i
expressly sav. in the Dedication, that the Clergy of
the established Church are they icho have been princi
pally watchful In the common cause cf Christianity, and
MOST SUCCESSFUL in repelling the insults of its enemies.
I must appeal then, this second time, to the Public for
justice.
As I was cold in defence of Scripture in general, so
my next charge is, that I have undervalued the evidence
arising ji om miracles. Would the Reader know how?
Hardly, by saying, as 1 expressly do, that men have
proved our religion actually divine thereby. But this
went for nothing, because 1 said in the same place, that
the external evidence (in which miracles are included) is
not capable of strict demonstration ; but that the internal
is. Now here might be some pretence tor saying I over*
valued internal evidence : But by what kind of logic it
could be inferred that, therefore, I undervalued miracles,
I know not.
The letter- writer next turns (as it would seem) from
me tp those who deny the Divinity of Christ, the merits
of Jys death, the obligation and effects of the sacraments,
and the doctrine of grace. But it is but seeming. He
appears willing that these false opinions should be thought
mine : for having charged me with horrid crimes, with
out shadow of proof or probability, he would cover the
scandal by insinuating me guilty of heterodoxy ; or why
else did he lead his reader to the very door of calumny,
by artfully joining me, as undervaluing miracles, to one
qf these, who he says denies the truth of one of them ?
But
io VINDICATION OF THE AUTHOR
But the letter-writer should have considered, if this was
his design, that in this very book I affirm more than once
or twice, that the doctrine of redemption is the foundation,
and of the very essence of Christianity. He should
have known that nil or tno-.t of tho^e true Christian doc
trines mentioned above are contained in the -doctrine of
redemption*
There are. and those esteemed sincere Christians too,
who would have taken the names of infidel and heretic
for favours at the hand of the tetter-writer. But 1 am of
a different humour. These titles have no charms for me.
I have lived some time in the world ; and, blessed be
GOD, without giving or taking offence. This time has
been spent in my parish church (for I am a country
clergyman, and reside constantly on my Cure) in the
service of my neighbour, in my study, and in the othceg
of filial piety
" With lenient Arts t" extend a Mother s breath,
; Make Languor smile, and smooth the bed of death,
" Explore the thought, explain the asking eye,
" And keep awhile one Parent from the sky/
Excess of zeal in such as the letter^writer, and defect of
religion in others of better breeding, so efface these feel
ings of nature, that I could hardly have known how to
have told them, had I not both the example, and the fine
words too, of one of the politest men of tiie age to keep
me in countenance. The time spent in my study has
been employed in confirming my own faith against the
erroneous opinions the letter-writer has raked together,
and then, in planning a Work to confirm my brethren,
All the reward I ever had, or ever expect to have here,
is the testimony of a good conscience within doors, and a
good jiarne without. The first no man can take from me;
the other, this letter- writer, in the most unchristian man-
tier, has attempted to invade.
But 1 heartily forgive him : and instead of putting
uncharitable constructions on his secret intentions, will
believe, though I know no more of him than by his let
ter, that he is sincere, and only unhappily agitated by a
furious zeal for the cause of GOD and Religion; instead
of thinking he ought to be hindered from any farther ad
vancement
FROM ASPERSIONS OF WEBSTER. 11
wancement in the Church. If the want of that be the
cause of his spleen and virulency, I heartily wish it may
be speedily removed : nay, that the letter he has wrote
against me may contribute towards it. Instead of using
any warm endeavours to lessen his credit, which he pro
fesses in so many words to be his purpose against me, I
wish him ail increase of reputation and honour : and in
stead of insulting him with the words he seems to apply
to me I pray /or the forgiveness and conversion oj all
bad men, I will assure him, that I pray for him as a bro
ther.
I have only one word more to add : I have presumed
to appeal to the Public, in a matter indeed that little con
cerns it, yet perhaps of some moment in the consequence
ami example. But whatever necessity I now found my
self under of not submitting to so talse a charge, the
Public need not be under apprehensions that I shall ever
give them a second trouble of the same kind. It must be
some strange provocation indeed that can make me repeat
it. For if I can forgive injuries of this kind, it is sure
no hard task to despise them- In a word, I have made
my defence against these calumnies now once for all ;
and my enemies must pardon me, if I decline to be
drawn in, into a controversy of this nature ; or to be
drawn off from the subject I have commenced in defence
of Revelation. And, by the grace of GOD, no un
christian treatment shall ever make me languid or remiss
in vindicating the truth of the Christian cause. Whether
I am a weak defender of Christianity must be submitted
to the judgment of the Public. But I am persuaded that
that Public will suspend all severity of judgment till they
see the whole performance : and then, I hope, those who
now think I have advanced a paradox that cannot be sup
ported, will be of another opinion. But if it should not
be my good fortune to make out my point to their satis
faction, yet I should hope they will pass a more equitable
construction on the attempt than the letter-writer has
thought fit to do ; and make all favourable allowances for
the newness and difficulty of the subject, and the many
incidental points touched upon, which will, I hope, be
thought by all persons of equity, candor, and good
learning, to have their use. In the mean lime, 1 can say
with
12 VINDICATION OF THE AUTHOR, Sec.
with great truth, and, I hope I may do it with modesty,
that what I offer to the Public concerning The Divine
Legation of Moses is not a hasty sudden thought, and
what has appeared flattering to me upon its first ap
pearance only ; as such things often strike, which, upon
review, give no satisfaction. Tut this has been long the
subject of my thoughts ; often laid by, and then again, at
proper intervals, resumed, reviewed, and turned on all
sides. What then I have been in no haste to approve
after carefully weighing and examining every part, 1 shall
hope the equitable Reader will be in no haste to con
demn or suspect while he has seen only one.
A
CRITICAL AND PHILOSOPHICAL
COMMENTARY
ON
MR. POPE S
ESSAY ON HAN:
In which is contained a Vindication of the said ESSAY
from the Misrepresentations of
MR. DE RESNEL, the French Translator;
and of
MR. DE CROUSAZ,
Professor of Philosophy and Matheraatic*
iu the Academy of Lausanne-,
The Commentator.
Tide quarn iniqui sunt divmoruru luunerum Eestiuiaturet
etiaiu quidara puofcssi SAPIEXTIAM. -SEN.
Address to Mr. ALLEX.
Preface.
COMMENTARY - - Letter I.
- - D - - - - Letter IT.
- B - - - - Letter III.
- - D - - - - Letter IV.
TO
MY WORTHY Fit FEND,
RALPH ALLEN, ESQ.
SIR,
I GIVE myself the pleasure of conversing with you, in
this form ; as I see you less under the idea of a patron,
than of a joint labourer with me in the service of man
kind. For while I attempt to explain the theory of this
divine philosophy of Universal Benevolence, you illustrate
it by your practice. At most therefore I can but offer
you the ESSAY ON MAX, set in a just light, as a mirrour
for your cabinet ; where you may behold the perfect
image of your own mind : And the works of this Artkt,
who is beholden only to truth for their polish and their
lustre, you are too well acquainted with to suspect them
of flattery. To preserve the lustre of this mirrour was
the sole purpose of the following Letters. For the dull
breath of malice had attempted to defile its purity and,
by staining it with the black imputation of Fatalism, to
tarnish every virtue it reflected.
It hath been observed in Physics, that nature never
gave an excellence, but she at the same time produced
its contrary, with qualities peculiarly adapted to its de
struction. As we see how this serves the wise ends of
Providence, by keeping us in that state of imperfection
and dependence in which it hath pleased the Author of
all Things to place us, we need not be much surprised
to find the same phenomenon in the moral world: In no
instance more apparent than in the doctrine of FATE,
which, almost coaeval with the practice o/ VIRTUE, is yet
altogether the destruction of it.
But as there is not that decay, nor degeneracy of good,
in the natural as in the moral world ; so neither is there
4hat increase of evil. I say this chiefly with regard to
the -doctrine of Fate, which hath beea still growing, from
age
i6 DEFENCE OF MR. POPE,
age to age, in absurdity and impiety: And therefore no
Bonder, that virtue, whose specific bane it is, should
proportionally sicken and decline.
Indeed, it stopped not till it became like the Tree in
the Chaldtfans vision, which reached to heaven, mid ex
tended over the whole earth ; and received all the irrational
and impure Creation, birds, beasts, and insects, to its
shade and shelter.
To considerate in its growth arid progress, it divides
itself into four principal branches.
The first and earliest is that which arose from the
strange and prodigious events in the life of Man : Where
the amazed beholder observing the ends of human wisdom
so perpetually defeated, even when supported by the
likeliest means, concluded that nothing less than an over
ruling fate had traversed his well-conducted designs.
This early conclusion concerning God s government here,
from observations on civil events, was again inferred in
after ages, by another set of men, with regard to his
government hereafter, from their contemplations on re
ligious ; while, from an u^ter inability to penetrate the
designs of Providence in its partial Revelations to man
kind, they concluded $&& fate or predestination had de
termined of our future, as well as present happiness.
These, which arc only different modifications of the same
imaginary power, may be called the POPULAR and RE
LIGIOUS fate.
The second kind arose from a supposed moral influence
of th,e heavenly bodies : founded in an early superstition
that the hero-gods had migrated into stars. It was first
understood to be confined to communities, as such were
the more immediate care of these heroes while living :
But the same considerations which produced the first
species of J ate, in a little time, extended it to particulars.
And this is the CIVIL or ASTROLOGIC fate. Hitherto,
free-will was only curbed, or rendered useless. To
annihilate it quite, needed all the power of philosophy.
So true is the observation, that without philosophy Man
can hardly become either thoroughly absurd or miserable.
The Sophist, in his profound inquiries into human
nature, and on what it is we do, when we judge, deliber
ate, and resolve, came at length to this short conclusion,
That
IN ANSWER TO CROUSAZ. 17
That the mind is no more than a machine , and that its
operations art determined in the same manner that a
balance is inclined by its weights. This absolute necessity
of man s actions is the third species of Jate, called the
PHILOSOPHIC.
From this, to the last, that is to say, the necessity of
COD S, was an easy step. For when, from the very
nature of mind and wilt, the philosopher had demonstrated
the absurdity of freedom in man, the same conclusion
would hold as to all other beings whatsoever. And this
is the ATHEISTIC fate.
These, Sir, were the glorious effects of PRIDE : which
our incomparable Friend, with so good reason, esteems
the source of all our misery and impiety. The pride of
accounting for the ways of Providence begot the two first
species: and the pride of comprehending the essences of
things, the two latter. Ah! misera mens hominum, quo
te FATA stfpiss mie trahunt! In the name of Paul, if
one might be allowed to ask, What shall deliver us from
the body of this fate? which hangs about the soul like
that punishment of the ancient Tyrant, who bound dead
bodies to the living. I answer, the Religion si JESUS:
which hath instructed us as clearly in fche Nature of Man,
as in the Nature of God ; in the subject, as well as in the
object, of worship. A worship founded, as reason and
conscience tell us it ought, on these two great principles,
the FREEDOM and the WEAKNESS of Man. The first,
making our approach to God a REASONABLE SERVICE ;
the latter, God s approach to us a COVENANT OF GRACE.
And this, Sir, is that glorious Gospel, which you are not
ashamed to adore, as able to put to silence the ignorance
of foolish men.
And, in fact, the fa&hicnable reasoner is now gone
over to the cause of Liberty ; but still true to his over
weening pride, is gone over in the o her extreme. Let
the Fatalist talk what he pleases of the mind ? being a
balame, if its operations be mechanical , lam sure it is
more like a pendulum, which, when well leaded, is in
cessantly swinging from one side to the other. For the
vain reasoner is now as much disposed to deny the weak
ness of the mind, as before to deny its freedom. Hence
it is, we see the Christian Doctrine of GRACE despised
VOL. XI. C and
18 DEFENCE OF MR. POPE,
and laughed at ; and the means instituted by its Founder
for obtaining it, as impiously as sophistically, explained
away. Yet without human freedom Religion in general i&
a farce ; and but on the truth of human weakness, the Re>-
ligion of Jesus, a falsehood.
With regard then to free-will, what need we more than
the declaration of Religion ? The simple-minded man
naturally suppose* it; the good man feels it ; the think
ing man understands it ; and nothing but vain philosophy
holds out both against Nature and Grace : Not so openly
indeed as formerly ; but still as obstinately. The ablest
advocates of necessity now inveloping it in systems , and
insinuating it in all the artful detours of what they call a
sufficient reason.
None have gone farther, or with more success, into
this contrivance, than the famous Leibnitz ; who, with
great parts and application of mind, had an immoderate
ambition of becoming founder of a sect. He first at
tempted to raise a name, like the heroes of old, by the
invasion of another s property : But being detected and
repulsed, he turned himself to invention ; and framed
an hypothesis in direct opposition to that theory which he
before seemed willing to have made his own. This
hypothesis, founded in a refined Fatalism, he chose to
deliver by hints only, and in piecemeal ; whfch, at the
same time that it gave his scheme an air of depth and
mystery, kept its absurdities from being observed. So
that it soon made its fortune amongst the German wits;
who were not out of their way when they took the same
deep and cloudy road with their master. It was no
wonder then, that this should raise a jealousy in the ad
vocates of Religion, and make the warmer sort of them
(not the best at a charitable distinction, though great
logicians) to mistake their friends for their enemies.
Amongst other follies of this kind, it brought down a
storm of calumny on the ESSAY ON MAN ; and, in its
turn, occasioned this vindication of our inimitable Poet
A short, and an easy task. For my point, you know,
Sir, was not to expose the absurdity of fate ; but to prove
the Essay free from a doctrine, which my Adversary and
I agreed to be an absurdity. But if any one, confiding
in the tricks of sophistry under the cloudy conveyance of
metaphysics.
IK ANSWER TO CROUSAZ. 19
metaphysics, would dispute this point with us ; I shall
give up my share of him to my Adversary, and leave him
entirely to the mercy of his logic. All the answer he
must expect from me, is of that kind with the Philoso
pher s, who, disputing with one who denied local motion,
only used his legs, ancl walked out of his company : That
is to say, I shall decline his challenge merely for the
exercise of my freedom. And indeed, what other answer
does he deserve, who refuses to acquiesce in that CON
SCIOUSNESS of freedom which every plain man has. on
reflecting upon what passes in his mind when he thinks
and acts?
But yet, it may be worth while to remark the nature
Gf this consciousness; from which alone (as I think. Sir,
I have had the pleasure to ohserve to you in our conver
sation on these subjects) freedom of will may be de-
ironstrated to all but the downright atheist. It will, I
suppose, be allowed to be an impression on the mind,
made hy reflexion, as strong as any of those made by
sensation. And sure he must be as blind as even blind
fate can make him, who does not see thus far at least.
So that the only question is, whether it be, like them,
subject to deception ? I answer, No. And first, for a
natural reason, As the organs of sense are not employed
to convey the intelligence : But secondly and principally,
for a moral one, As there would be nothing left to re
dress the wrong representation. For, reason, which
performs this office in the false impressions of sense, is
the very faculty employed in making the impressions of
reflexion. Were these therefore liable to the same kind
of deception, we should be unavoidably led into and kept
in error by the natural frame and constitution of things.
But as this would reflect on the Author of Nature, no
Theist, I presume, will be inclined to admit the conse
quence. If the -Fatalist should reply, that reason, when
well exercised and refined, does here, as in the false im
pressions of sense, lay open the delusion ; this, I must
tell him, is the very folly we complain of: That, when
things are submitted to the arbitrement of Reason, her
award should be rejected while standing in the road of
Nature, with all her powers and faculties entire ; and
not thought worthy to be heard, till made giddy in the
c 3 airy
20 DEFENCE OF MR. POPE.
airy heights of metaphysics^ and racked and tortured fiy
all the engines of sophistry : In a word, when Reason is
no move herself; but speaks as her keepers and tormen
tors dictate.
However, it is not the looking within only, that as
sures the Theist of his freedom. What he may observe
abroad of the horrid mischiefs and absurdities arising from
the Doctrine of Fate, will fully convince him of this
truth. It subverts and annihilates all Religion: For the
belief of rewards and punishments, without which no Re
ligion can subsist, is founded on the principle of Man s
being an accountable creature ; but when freedom of
will is wanting, Man is no more so than a Clock or
Organ. It is likewise highly injurious to Society : For
whoever thinks himself no longer in his own power, will
be naturally inclined to give the reins to his passions, as
it is submitting to that fate which must at last absolutely
turn and direct them.
But, after all, the most powerful argument for Freedom,
I confess, Sir, is such a life as yours. Of which, though
I could say much, aad with pleasure, I will only say that
it has made me, in common with every one who know&
you,
Your obliged,
your affectionate,
and your faithful servant,
W. WARBURTON.
May 18, 174-2..
PREFACE.
THERE are two sorts of Writers, I mean the BJCOT
and the FREE-THINKER, that every honest man in his
heart esteems no better than the pests of society ; as they
are manifestly the bane of Literature and Religion.
And whoever effectually endeavours to serve either of
these, is sure immediately to offend both of those. For,
the advancement of literature is as favourable to true
piety, as it is fatal to superstition, and the advancement
of religion as propitious to real knowledge as discrediting
to vain science.
The Author of the following Letters, who hath aimed
at least to do this service, by his writings, regarding
these two sorts of men, as the irreconcileable enemies of
his design, began without any ceremony (for lie was not
disposed, for their sake, to go about) to break through
those lumpish impediments they had thrown across the
road of Truth ; and laboured to clear the way, not only
for himself, but for all who were disposed to follow him.
In which it fared with him as it .sometimes happens to
those who undertake to remove a public nuisance for the
benefit of their neighbourhood, where tlie nicer noses
hold themselves oftended even in the service thus unde
servedly rendered to them. For notwithstanding our
Author hath taken all opportunities, and even sought out
occasions to celebrate every Writer, living or dead, who
was any way respectable for knowledge, virtue, or piety,
in whatever party, sect, or religion, he was found,
especially such as he had the misfortune to dissent from,
and this Sometimes with so liberal a hand as to give
offence on that side likewise ; though he hath done this,
I say, yet having, for the reasons above, declared
eternal war with Bigotry and Free-tkmking, the strong,
yet sincere colours in which he hath drawn the learning,
sense, candour, and truth of those subjects in which these
noble qualities are most eminent, have been censured as
C3 insolence
22 VINDICATION OF MR. POPE.
insolence and satire, and a transgression of all the bounds
of civility and decorum. But he will not be easily in
duced, by the chmours uf the falsely delicate, to betray
the interests ot all thet is good and valuable amongst men,
in corn,...*;s.,r!ce to their notions of politeness. Tis no
time to staiij upon ceremony wneri Religion is struggling
for life ; when the whole Head is sick, and the whole
H^art taint.
Th<> Bigot* who, between a corrupt will, and a narrow
understanding, imputes odious designs to his adversaries,
and impious consequences to their opinions, is rot, I
suppose,, to l/e complimented, either into sense or honesty.
The Writer here confuted is amongst the chief of them.
And it is not impossible but the recent memory of the
like usage our Author himself met with from others of the
same leaven, might give him a quicker sense and stronger
resentment of the injury done his neighbour.
As for the tribe of Free-thinkers, Toland, Tindal, Col
lins, Coward, Blount, Strutt, Chub, Dudgeon, Mor
gan, Tillard, and their fellows, the mortal foes both of
reason and religion, injured wit as well as virtue, by the
mouth of their happiest advocate and favourite, long ago
called out for vengeance on them :
The Licence of a following reign
Did all the dregs of bold Socbws drain ;
Then unbelieving priests reform d the nation,
And taught more pleasant methods of salvation ;
Where Heaven s free subjects might their rights dispute,
Lest God iiimself should seem too absolute.
Encourag d thus, Wit s Titans brav d the skies,
And the press groan d with licensed blasphemies.
These monsters, Cniics, with your darts engage,
Here point your thunder, and exhaust your rage !
COMMENTARY
ott
MR. POPE S
ESSAY ON MAN.
LETTER I.
WHEN a great Genius, whose Writings have
afforded the world much pleasure and instruc
tion, happens to be enviously attacked and falsely Ac
cused, it is natural to think, that a sense of gratitude
due from readers so agreeably obliged, or a sense of
that honour resulting to our Country from such a Writer,
should raise a general indignation. But every .day s ex
perience shews us the very contrary. Some take a
malignant satisfaction in the attack; others, a foolish
pleasure in a literary conflict ; aad the greater part look
on with an absolute indifference.
Mr. De Crousazs Remarks * on Mr. Popes Essay on
Man, seen in part, through the deceitful medium of a
French translation, have just fallen into my hands. As
those Remarks appear to me very groundless and unjust,
I thought *o much due to truth, as to vindicate our Great
Countryman from his censure.
The principal object therefore of this Vindication shall
be, to give the Reader a fair and just idea of the Reason
ing of that Essay, so egregiously misrepresented ; in
* They are contained in two several Books, the one entitled,
Examen de I Essai de Mr. Pope ; a Lausanne, 1737. The other,
Cojnmfntaire sur la Traduction en vers de M. VAbbe Du Resntl de
i Essw de Mr, Pope sur I Homme ; a Geaeve, 1738,
c 4 which
24 A COMMENTARY ON
\vhich I shall not consider it as a Poem (for it stands in
no need of the licence of such kind of works to defend
it), but as a System of Philosophy ; and content myself
\vith a plain representation of the sobriety, force, and
connection of that -Reasoning.
I shall begin with the first Epistle. The opening of
which, in Jifteen lines, is taken up in giving an account
of his subject; which he shews us (agreeably to the
title) is An ESSAY , ON MAN, or a Philosophical In
quiry into his Nature, and End, his Passions, and
Pursuits:
A mighty maze! but not without a plan,
as Mr. I)e Crousaz and I have found it, between us.
The next line tells us with what design he wrote, viz.
To vindicate the ways of God to Man.
The men he writes against he hath frequently informed
us are such, as
Weigh their opinion against Providence. 1. no.
Such as,
cry, if Man s unhappy. God s unjust. 1. 114.
Such as fall into the notion,
That vice and virtue there is none at all.
Ep. ii. 1. 202.
This occasioneth the Poet to divide his Vindication of
the IVays of God into two. Parts. In thejirst of which
he gives direct answers to those objections which liber
tine men, on a view of the disorders arising from the
perversity of the human will, have intended against Pro
vidence : And, in the second, he obviates all those objec
tions, by a true delineation of human Nature, or a
general but ex-act Map of Man ; which these objectors
either not knowing, or mistaking, or else leaving (for the
mad pursuit of metaphysical entities), have lost and be
wildered themselves in a thousand foolish complaints
against Providence. The first Epistle is employed in
the management of the first part of this dispute ; and
the three following in .the management of the second.
So that the whole constitutes a complete Essay on Man,
written for the best purpose, to vindicate the ways of
God.
The
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 25
The Poet therefore having enounced his subject, his
of writing, and the quality oj ".his adversaries, pro
ceeds [from 1. 16 to 23. | to instruct us from whence he
intends to draw his arguments for their confutation ;
namely, from the risible things of God, in this system,
to demonstrate the invisible tkmgs of God, his eternal
power and godhead: And why ; because we can reason
only from what we know, and we know no more of Man
than what we see of his station here; no more of God
than what we see of his dispensations to Man in this
station ; therefore
Thro worlds unnumbered though the God be known,
Tis ours to trace him only in our own *.
This naturally leads the Poet to exprobrate the miserable
folly and impiety of pretending to pry into, and call in
question, the profound dispensations of Providence:
Which reproof contains [from 1. 22 to 43.] the most
sublime description of the omniscience of God, and the
miserable blindness and presumption of Man.
Presumptuous Man ! the reason would st thou find
Why form d so weak, so little, and so blind ?
First, if thou canst, the harder reason guess
Why form d no weaker, blinder, and no less?
Ask of thy mother earth, why oaks are made,
Taller or stronger than the weeds they shade ?
Or ask of yonder argent fields above,
Why Jove s satellites are less than Jove ?
In the four last lines, the Poet has joined the utmost
Jbeauty of argumentation to the sublimity of thought;
where the similar instances, proposed for their examina
tion, shew as well the absurdity of their complaints
against order, as thzfruitlesmess of their inquiries into
the arcana of the Godhead.
So far his modest and sober Introduction : In which
Le truly observes, that no wisdom less than omniscient
Can tell why Heav n has made us as we are.
Yet though we can never discover the particular reasons
for this mode of our existence, we may be assured in
* Hunc cognoscimus solummodo per Proprieties suas et Attribute!,
et per sapientissimas et optimas rerum structural et causas finales.
Newtoni Principia Schol, gener, sub finem.
general
26 A COMMENTARY ON
general that it is right : For now entering upon his argu
ment, he lays down this self-evident proposition ag the
foundation of his thesis, which he reasonably supposes
will be allowed him : That of all possible si^u-ms, infinite
Wisdom hath formed the best ; [1. 43, 44.] From hence
he draws two consequences :
i. The first [from I. 44 to 51.] is, that as the best
system cannot but be such a one as hath no inconnected
void ; such a one in v, hi eh there is a perfect coherence
and gradual subordination in all its parts ; there must
needs be, in some part or other of the scale of life and
sense, such a creature as MAN ; which reduces the dis
pute to this absurd question, Whether God has placed
him wrong ?
It being shewn that MAN, the subject of his inquiry 9
has a necessary place in such a system as this is con
fessed to be : And it being evident that the abuse of free
will, from whence proceeds ail moral evil, is the certain
effect of such a creature s existence; the next question
will be, how these evils can be accounted for, con
sistently with the idea we have of God s attributes?
Therefore,
2. The second consequence he draws from his prin
ciple, That of all possible systems, injinite Wisdom has
formed the best, is, that whatever is wrong in our pri
vate system, is right, as relative to the whole [1. 50 to 53.]
Respecting Man, whatever wrong we call,
May, must be right, as relative to ALL.
That it may, he proves [from 1. 52 to 61.] by shewing
in what consists the difference between the systematic
works of God and those of Man, viz. that, in the latter,
a thousand movements scarce gain one purpose ; in the
former, one movement gains many purposes. So that
Man, who here seems principal alone,
Perhaps acts second to some sphere unknown.
And acting thus, the appearances of wrong in the par
ticular system may be right in the universal: For,
Tis but a part we see, and not a whole.
That it must, the whole body of this Epistle is em
ployed to illustrate and inforce. Thus partial evil is
universal good, and thus Providence is fairly acquitted,
From
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 27
TYom all this he draws a general conclusion [from
I. 60 tc Sy.J that, as vhat had been said is sufficient to
vindicate the ways of Providence, Man should rest sub
missive and content, and contess every thing to be dis
posed for the best ; that to pretend to inquire into the
manner how God conducts this wonderful scheme to its
completion, is as absurd as to imagine that the horse and
ox shall ever come to comprehend why they undergo
such different manage and fortunes in the hand of Man ;
nay, that such knowledge, if communicated, would be
even pernicious to Man, and make him neglect or desert
his duty here.
Heav n from all creatures hides the Book of Fate,
All but the page prescrib d, the present state,
From brutes what men, from men what spirits know,
Or who would suffer being here below ?
This he illustrates by an instance in the lamb, which
is happy in not knowing the fate that attends it from the
hand of the butcher ; and from thence takes occasion to
observe, that God is the equal master of all his crea
tures, and provides for the proper happiness of each
Being.
Who sees with equal eye, as God of all,
A hero perish, or a sparrow fall *.
But now the objector is supposed to put in, and say;
" You tell us indeed, that all things will turn out for
" good ; but w r e see ourselves surrounded with present
* evil ; and yet you forbid us all inquiry into the man-
" ner how we are to be extricated; and in a word, leave
" us in a very disconsolate condition." Not so, replies
the Poet [from 1. 86 to 95.] you may reasonably, if you
so please, receive much comfort from the HOPE of a
happy futurity ; a hope given us by God himself for this
very purpose, as an earnest of that bliss, which here
indeed perpetually flies us, but is reserved for the food
man hereafter.
What future bliss he gives not thee to know,
But gives that hope to be thy blessing now.
Hope springs eternal in the human breast,
Man never is, but always to be blest,
* Matt, x, 29.
The
2$ A COMMENTARY ON
The soul uneasy, and confin d from home,
Kests and expatiates in a life to come*
Now the reason why the Poet chuses to insist on this
proof of a future state in preference to others, I con
ceive, is in order to give his system (which is founded in
a sublime and improved Platcriism) the utmost grace of
onifermity. For we know this HOPE was Plato s pecu
liar argument for a future state; and the words here
employed, The* soul uneasy, fyc. his peculiar expression:
We have seen the argument illustrated \\ith great force
of reasoning, by our most eminent modern divines : But
no where stronger urged than by our Poet, in this Essay;
He says here, in express terms, That God gave us Hope
to supply that future blixs which he at present keeps hid
jwm its. In his 2d Ep. 1. 264. he goes still farther, and
says, this HOPE quits us not even at death, when every
thing mortal drops from us.
Hope travels through, nor quits us when we die.
And, in the 4th Epistle he shews how the same HOPE
is a certain proof of a future state, from the considera
tion of (jod s giving Alan no appetite hi vain, or xvhat
he did not intend should be satisfied ; (which is Plato s
great argument for a future state.) Eor, describing the
condition of the good man, he breaks out into these
rapturous strains :
For him alone hope leads from goal to goal,
And opens still, and opens on his soul ;
Till, lengthened on totbith, and unconnVd,
It pours the bliss, that fills up all the mind.
He sees, why Nature plants in Man alone
Hope of known bliss, and faith in bliss unknown :
Nature, whose dictates to no other kind
Are giv n in vain, but what they seek they find.
+ 1-331, ctseq.
It is only for the good man, he tells us, that hope
leads from goal to* goal, $c. It would be strange indeed
then, if it should be a delusion.
But it hath been objected, that the system of the best
weakens the other natural arguments for a future state,
because if the evils which good men suffer, promote the
benefit of the whole, then every thing is here in order ;
5 and
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 29
imd nothing amiss that wants to be set -right ; Nor has
the good man any reason to expect a reparation, when
the evils he suffered had such a tendency. To this we
reply, that the system of the best is so far from weaken
ing those natural arguments, that it strengthens and sup
ports them. To consider it a little,, if those evils to
which good men are subject be mere disorders, without
any tendency to the greater good of the wiiole, then,
though we must indeed conclude that they will hereafter
be set right, yet this view of things, representing God a&
suffering disorders for no other purpose than to set them
right, gives us a very low idea of the Divine Wisdom,
But if those evils (according to the system of the best)
contribute to the greater perfection of the whole, a rea
son may be then given for their permission, and such a
one as supports our idea of Divine Wisdom to the highest
religious purposes. Then, as to the good man s kopes
of a retribution, those still remain in their original force.
For our idea of God s justice, and how far that justice
is engaged to a retribution, is exactly and invariably the
same on either hypothesis. For though the system of
the best supposes that the evils themselves will be fully
compensated by the good they produce to the whole, yet
this is so far from supposing that particulars shall suffer
for a general good, that it is essential to this system, to
conclude that, at the completion of things, when the
whole is arrived to the state of utmost perfection, parti
cular and universal gQQ& shall coincide.
Such is the WORLD S great harmony, that springs
From union, order, full consent of things ;
Where small and great, where weak and mighty, made
To serve not suffer, strengthen not invade.
Ep. iii. 1. 296, et seq.
Which coincidence can never be without a retribution
to good men for the evils suffered here below.
To return then to the Poet s argument, he, as we said,
bids Man comfort himself with expectation of future-
happiness, and shews him that this HOPE is an earnest
of it : But first of all puts in one very necessary caution,
Hope humbly then, with trembling pinions soar.
And provoked at those miscreants, whom he afterwards
30 A COMMENTARY OK
[Ep. 3. 1. 262.] describes as bu .lding Hell on spite, and
Heaven on pride, he upbraids them [from 1.94 to 109.]
\\ith tbe example of the poor Indian, to whom also
Nature liatb given this common HOPE of mankind. But
though his untutored uiind had betrayed him into many
childish fancies concerning the nature of that future
state, yet he is so far from excluding any part of his own
species (a vice which could proceed only from vain
science, which puffeth up), that he humanely admits
even Aw faithful dog to bear him company.
And then [from 1. 108 to 1 19.] shews them, that com
plaints against the established order of things, begin in
the highest absurdity from misapplied reason and power ;
and end in the highest impiety,, in an attempt to degrade
the God of Heaven, and assume his plnce.
Go wiser thou, and in thy scale of sense
Weigh thy opinion against Providence :
Destroy all creatures for thy sport or gust,
Yet cry, if Man s unhappy, Goo s unjust ;
If Man ajone ingross not Heaven s high care,
Alone made perfect here-, Immortal there,
That is, be made God, who only is perfect, and hath
immortality :
To which sense the lines immediately following con*
fine us :
Snatch from his hand the balance and the rod,
Rejudge his justice, be the God of God.
From these men, the Poet turns to his Friend t and
[from 1. 118 to 137.] remarks that the ground of all this
extravagance is .pride; which, more or less, infects the
whole species : shews the ill effects of it, in the case of
the fallen angels ; and observes, that even wis/iMg to in
vert the laws of order is a lower species of their crime : i
then brings an instance of one of the effects of pride,
uhich is the folly of thinking every thing made solely for
the use of Man ; without the least regard to any other of
God s creatures.
Ask for what end the heavenly Bodies shine,
Earth for whose use ? PRIDE answers, Tis for mini-
For ?ve 9 kind Nature wakes her genial power,
Suckles each herb, and spreads out ev ry flower;
Annual
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 3V
Annual for me, the grape, the rose, renew
The juice nectareous, and the balmy dew ;
For me, the mine a thousand treasures brings,
For me, health gushes from a thousand springs;
Seas roll to waft me, suns to light me rise,
My footstool, Earth ; my canopy, the skies.
The ridicule of imagining the greater portions of the
material system were solely for the use of Man, philo
sophy has sufficiently exposed : and common seme, as the
Poet shews, instructs us to know that our Jellow-crea-
tures, placed by Providence the joint inhabitants of this
globe, are designed by Providence to be joint sharers
with us of its blessings.
Has God, thou fool ! work d solely for thy good,
Thy joy, thy pastime, thy attire, thy food ?
Who for thy table feeds the wanton fawn,
For him as kindly spreads the flow ry lawn.
Is it for thee, the lark ascends and sings ?
Joy tunes his voice, joy elevates his wings.
Is it for thee the linnet pours his throat ?
Loves of his own and raptures swell the note.
Is thine alone the seed that strows the plain ?
The birds of heaven shall vindicate their grain.
Ep. iii. 1. 27.
Having thus given a general idea of the goodness and
wisdom of God, and the folly and ingratitude of Man,
the great Author comes next (after this necessary prepa
ration) to the confirmation of his thesis, That partial
Moral Evil is universal Good : but introduceth it with a.
proper argument to abate our wonder at the phaenome-
non of moral evil, which argument he builds on a con
cession of his adversaries. " If we ask you," says he,
[from 1. 136 to 147.] " whether Nature doth not err
" from the gracious end of its Creator, when plagues,
" earthquakes, and tempests, unpeople whole regions
" at a time ? you readily answer. No. For that God
" acts by general and not by particular laws ; and that
" the course of matter and motion must be necessarily
" subject to some irregularities, because nothing created
" is perfect." Say you so ? I then ask, why you should
expect this perfection in Man ? If you own that the great
end
32 A COMMENTARY ON
end of G od (notwithstanding all this deviation) be general
happiness, then it is Nature, and not God that deviates;
and do you expect greater constancy in Man ?
Then Nature deviates, and can Man do less ?
i. c. if Nature, or the inanimate system (on which God
hath imposed his laws, which it obeys as a machine
obevs the hand of the workman), may in course of time
deviate from its first direction, as the best philosophy
shews it may* ; where is the wonder that Man, who was
created a free agent, and hath it in his power every
moment to transgress the eternal Rule of .Right, should
sometimes go out of order?
Having thus shewn how 7 Moral Evil came into the
worlji, name!} 7 , \>y Mans abme of his own free-will, he
comes to the point, the confirmation of his thesis, by
shesving how moral Evil promotes Good , and employs
the same concession of his adversaries, concerning natural
Evil, to illustrate it.
i. He shews it tends to the good of the whole, or
universe [front L 146 to 1,57.] and this by analogy. " You
" own, says he, that storms and tempests, clouds, rain,
" heat, and variety of seasons are necessary (notwith-
" standing the accidental evils they bring with them) to
" the health and plenty of this globe ; why then should
" you suppose there is not the same use, with regard to
" the universe, in a Borgia and a Catiline ? " But you
say, you can see the one and not the other. You say
right. One terminates in this system, the other refers to
the whole. But, says the Poet, in another place,
of this frame, the bearings and the ties,
The strong connexions, nice dependencies,
Gradations just, has thy pervading soul
Look d thro ? Or can a part contain the whole ?
L 29, et seq.
* While Comets move in very eccentric orbs, in all manner of
positions, blind Fate could never make all the Planets move ee and
the same way in orbs concentric, some inconsiderable irregularities
excepted, which may have risen from the mutual actions of Comets
and Planets upon one another, and which will be apt to increase till
this system wants a reformation. Sir Is. Newt. Optics, Quest, ult.
Own
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 33
Own therefore, says he, here, that,
From pride, from pride our very reasoning springs ;
Account for moral as for natural things :
Why charge we Heaven in those, in these acquit ?
In both to reason right, is to submit.
2. But secondly, to strengthen the foregoing analogi
cal argument, and to make the wisdom and goodness of
God still more apparent, he observes next [from
1. 156 to 165] that moral evil is not only productive of
good to the whole, but is even productive of good in our
own system. It might, says he, perhaps appear better
to us, that there were nothing in this world but peace
and virtue,
That never air nor ocean felt the wind,
That never passion discomposed the mind.
But then consider, that as our material system is sup
ported by the strife of its elementary particles, so is our
intellectual system by the conflict of our passions, which
are the elements of human action.
Love, hope, and joy, fair pleasure s smiling train,
Hate, fear, and grief, the family of pain,
These mix d with art, and to due bounds confin d,
-Make and maintain the balance" of the mind.
Ep. 2. 1. 107, et seq.
For (as he says again in his second Epistle, where he
illustrates this observation at large)
What crops of wit and honesty appear
From spleen, from obstinacy, hate or fear ! i. 1 75.
In a word, as without the benefit of tempestuous winds,
both air and ocean would stagnate, and corrupt, and
spread universal contagion throughout all the ranks of
animals that inhabit, or are supported, by them ; so,
without the benefit of the passions, that harmony, and
virtue, the effects of the absence of those passions,
would be a lifeless calm, a stoical apathy,
Contracted all, retiring to the breast :
But health of mind is exercise, not rest. Ep. 2. 1. 93.
Therefore, concludes the Poet, instead of regarding the
conflict of elements, and the passions of the mind, as dis-
VOL. XI. D orders i
34 A COMMENTARY ON
orders ; you ought to consider them as what they are,
part of the general order of Providence : and that they
are so, appears from their always preserving the same-
unvaried course, throughout all ages, from the creation,
to the present time :
The general order, since the whole began,
Is kept in Nature, and is kept in Man.
We see therefore it would be doing great injustice to
our Author to suspect that he intended, by this, to give
any encouragement to vice , or to insinuate the necessity
of it to a happy life, on the equally execrable and ab
surd scheme of the Author of the Fable of the Bees. His
system, as all his Ethic Epistles shew, is this, That the
passions, for the reasons given above, are necessary to
the support of virtue : That indeed the passions in ex
cess, produce vice, which is, in its ow r n nature, the
greatest of all evils ; and comes into the world from the
abuse of Man s free-will ; but that God, in his infinite
wisdom, and goodness, deviously turns the natural bias
of its malignity to the advancement of human happiness,
and makes it productive of general good:
TH ETERNAL ART EDUCES GOOD FROM ILL.
Ep. 2. 1. 1 65*
This, set against what we have observed of the Poet s
doctrine of & future state, will furnish us with an instance
of his steering (as he well expresses it in his Preface) be*
tween doctrines seemingly opposite: If his Essay has any
merit, he thinks it is in this. And doubtless it is uncom
mon merit to reject the extravagances of every system,
and take in only what is rational and real. The Charac
teristics, and the Fable of the Bees> are two seemingly
inconsistent systems : The extravagancy of the first is in
giving a scheme of Virtue without Religion ; and of the
latter, in giving a scheme of Religion without Virtue.
These our Poet leaves to any body that will take them
up ; but agrees however so far with the first, that virtue-
w r ould be worth having, though itself was its only reward;
and so far with the latter, that God makes evil, against
its nature, productive of good.
The Poet having thus justified Providence in its^er-
mssion of partial JIORAL EYIL ; employs the remaining
part
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 35
part of this Epistle in vindicating it from the imputation
of certain supposed NATURAL EVILS. For now he shews,
that though the complaint of his Adversaries against Pro
vidence be on pretence of real moral evils, yet, at bottom,
it all proceeds from their impatience under imaginary
natural ones, the issue of a depraved appetite for vision
ary advantages, which if Man had, they would be either
useless or pernicious to him, as unsuitable to his state, or
repugnant to his condition [froml. 164 to loq.J u Though
" God (says he) hath so bountifully bestowed on Man,
" faculties little less than angelic, yet he ungratefully
< grasps at higher ; and then, extravagant in another
" extreme, with a passion as ridiculous as that is impious,
" envies even the peculiar accommodations of Brutes.
" But here his own principles shew his folly." He sup
poses them all made for his use : Now what use could
he have of them, when he had robbed them of all their
qualities. Qualities, as they are at present divided,
distributed with the highest wisdom : But which, if be
stowed according to the froward humour of these childish
complainers, would be found to be every where either
wanting or superfluous, But even with these brutal
qualities Man would not only be no gainer, but a con
siderable loser, as the Poet shews, in explaining the
consequences that would follow from his having his sen
sations in that exquisite degree in which this or that animal
is observed to possess them.
He tells us next [from 1. 198 to 225] that the comply
ing with such extravagant desires would not only be use
less and pernicious to Man, but would be breaking the
order, and deforming the beauty, of God s Creation.
In which this animal is subject to that, and all to Man ;
who by his reason enjoys the benefit of all their powers :
Far as Creation s ample range extends,
The scale of sensual, mental powers ascends :
Mark how it mounts, to Man s imperial race,
From the green myriads in the peopled grass !
Without this just gradation, could they be
Subjected these to tho:je, or all to thee ?
The powers of all subdued by thee alone,
Js not thy reason all those powers in one ?
v 2 And
36 A COMMENTARY ON
And farther [from L 224 to 259] that this breaking the
order of things, which as a link or chain connects alt
beings from the highest to the lowest, would unavoidably
be attended with the destruction of the Universe ;
For if each system in gradation roll,
Alike essential to tli amazing whole ;
The least confusion but in one, not all
That system only, but the whole must fall.
Let Earth unbalanced from her orbit fly,
Planets and Suns rush lawless thro the sky :
Let ruling Angels from their spheres be huiTd,
Ijeing on being wreck d, and world on world,
Heaven s whole foundations to their centre nod.
And Nature tremble to the throne of God.
For that the several parts of the Universe must at least
compose as entire and harmonious a whole, as the parts
of an human body do, cannot be doubted : Yet we see
what confusion it would make in our frame, if the mem
bers were set upon invading each other s office.
What if the foot, ordain d the dust to tread,
Or hand to toil, aspir d to be the head ? $c.
Just as absurd, for any part to claim
To be another in this gen ral frame :
Just as absurd, to mourn the task and pains
The great directing *MiND of ALL ordains.
Who will not acknowledge that so harmonious a con
nection in the disposition of things, as is here described,,
is transcendently beautiful? But the Fatalists suppose
such a one. What then ? Is the first great free Agent
debarred from a contrivance so exquisite, because some
men, to set up their idol, Fate, absurdly represent it as
presiding over such a system ?
Having thus given a representation of God s Creation,
as one entire whole, where all the parts have a necessary
dependance on and relation to each other, and where
every particular works and concurs to the perfection of
the whole ; as such a system would be thought above the
reach of vulgar ideas ; to reconcile it to their conceptions,
* Veneramur autem et colimus ob Dominium. Deus enim sine
Dominio, Providentia, et causis Finalibus, nihil aliud est quarrx
FATUM et NATUUA. Newtoni Princip. Schol. gener. sub fiaem.
hs
MR. POPES ESSAY ON MAN. 37
he shews [from 1. 258 to 273] that God is equally and
intimately present to every sort of substance, to every
particle of matter, and in every instant of being ; which
eases the labouring imagination, and makes it expect no
less, from such a presence, than such a dispensation,
And now, the Poet, as he had promised, having vin
dicated the ways of God to Man, concludes [from 1. 272
to the end] that from what had been said it appears, that
the very things we blame contribute to our happiness,
either as particulars, or as parts of the universal system ;
that our ignorance, in accounting for the ways of Pro
vidence, was allotted to us out of compassion ; that yet
%ve have as much knowledge as is sufficient to shew us,
that w r e are, and always shall be, as ble^t as we can
bear; for that NATURE is neither a stratonic chain of
blind causes and effects,
(All nature is but art unknown to thee) ;
nor yet the fortuitous result of Epicurean atoms,
(All chance, direction which thou canst not see) ;
as these two species of atheism supposed it; but the
wonderful art and direction (unknown indeed to man)
of an all-powerful, all-wise, all-good, and free Being.
And therefore we may be assured, that the arguments
brought above, to prove partial moral evil productive of
universal good, may be safely relied on ; from whence
one certain truth results, in spite of all the pride and
cavils of vain reason, That WHATEVER is, is RIGHT,
WITH REGARD TO THE DISPOSTi ION OF GoD, AND TQ
ITS ULTIMATE TENDENCY. And this truth once owned,
all complaints against Providence are secluded.
But that the reader may see, in one view, the exactness
of the method, as well as force of the argument, I shall
here draw up a short synopsis of this epistle. The Poet
begins in telling us his subject is An Essay mi Man
His end of writing is to vindicate Providence Tells us
against whom he wrote, the Atheists From whence he
intends to fetch his arguments, froni the visible things of
God seen in this system Lays down this proposition as
the foundation of his thesis, that of all possible syste-ms,
injinite IVisdom has formed the best Draws from thence
two consequences; i. That there must needs be some-
p 3 where
38 A COMMENTARY ON
where such a creature as Man ; 2. That the moral evil
tchlch He is author oj\ is productive of the good of the
whole. This is his general thesis ; from whence he draws
this conclusion, That Man should rest submissive and
coitteut, and make the hopes of futurity his comfort but
not sitff er thts to be the occasion of PRIDE, which is the
cause of all his impious complaints.
He proceeds to confirm his thesis. Previously endea
vours to abate our wonder at the phenomenon of moral
evil Shews first its use to the perfection of the universe,
by analogy, from the use of physical evil in this particular
system Secondly, its me in this system, where it is
turned, providentially, from its natural bias, to promote
virtue -The goes on to vindicate Providence from the
imputation of certain supposed natural evils, as he had
before justified it for the permission of real moral evil,
in shewing that though the Atheist s complaint against
Providence be on pretence of real moral evil, yet the
true cause is his impatience under imaginary natural
evil , the issue of a depraved appetite for fantastical
advanta^s, which he shews, if obtained, would be use
less, or hurtful to Man and deforming and destructive
to ttie Universe ; as breaking into that order by which it
is supported. He describes that order, harmony, and
dost conntction vf the parts. And, by shewing the
inainate presence of God to his whole creation, gives a
reason for an Universe so amazingly beautiful, and perfect.
From all this he deduces his general conclusion, that
Nature being neither a blind chain of causes and effects,
nor yet the fort nitons result of wandering atoms, but the
toonderful art mid direction (f an all-wise, all" good, and
free Being ; /f- hatcrcr />, is right, with regard to the
disposition of God audits ultimate tendency, which once
granted, ah com plaints against Providence a^ at an end.
This is a plain and consistent account of the argument
of this famous Epistle, which (though here humbled, and
stripped or all its ornaments) hath such a force of rea*
soning as vouid support rhimes as bud as Donne s., and
guch a strum of poetry as would immortalize even the
wretched sophistiy that Mr. DE CROUSAZ has employed
against it.
Whose objections it is now high time we should con-
4 sider,
MR. POTE S ESSAY ON MAN. 39
sider. For having shewn what Mr. Pope s system really
is, we come next to shew what it is not ; namely, what
that writer hath the injustice, or the folly, to represent it.
He begins his examination, with saying, that " Mr. Pope
" seems to him, quite throughout his system, to embrace
" the pre-established harmony of the celebrated Leibnitz,
" which, in his opinion, establishes a fatality destructive
" of all religion and morality*." That the pre-established
harmony of Leibnitz terminates in fate, is readily owned ;
but that Mr. Pope hath espoused that impious whimsy,
is an utter chimaera. The pre-established harmony was
built upon, and is an outrageous extension of, a concep
tion of Plato s; who combating the atheistical objections
about the origin of evil, employs this argument in defence
of Providence; " That, amongst an infinite number of
" possible worlds in God s idea, this, which he hath
" created, and brought into being, and admits of a mix-
" ture @f evil, is the best." But if the best, then evil con
sequently is partial, comparatively small, and tends to the
greater perfection of the whole. This principle is espoused
and supported by Mr. Pope with all the power of reason
and poetry. But neither was Plato a fatalist, nor is
there any fatalism in the argument. As to the truth of
the notion, that is another question ; -and how far it clears
up the very difficult controversy about the origin of evil,
that is still another. That it is a full solution of all
difficulties, I cannot think, for reasons too long to be
given in this place. Perhaps we shall never have a full
solution here; and it may be no great matter though we
have not, as we are demonstrably certain of the moral
attributes of the Deity. However, what may justify
Mr. Pope in inforcing and illustrating this Platonic notion
is, that it has been received by the most celebrated and
orthodox divines both of the ancient and modern Church.
This doctrine, we own, then, was taken up by Leibnitz ;
but it was to ingraft upon it a most pernicious fatalism.
Plato said, God chose the best: Leibnitz said, he could
not but chuse the best. Plato supposed freedom in God,
to chuse one of two things equally good : Leibnitz held
the supposition to be absurd; but however, admitting
* Examen de I Essai de Mr. Pope sur I Homme;
D 4 ihf
4P A COMMENTARY ON
the case, he maintained that God could not chuse one of
two things equally good. Thus it appears the first went
on the syxtem of freedom: and that the latter, notwith
standing the most artful disguises in his Thcodicee, was
a thorough fatalist. For we cannot well suppose he
would give that freedom to Man which he had taken
away from God. The truth of the matter seems to have
been this: He saw, on the one hand, the monstrous
absurdity of supposing, with Spinosa, that blind Fate was
the author of a coherent Universe ; but yet, on the other,
could not conceive, with Plato, that God could foresee
and conduct, according to an archetypal idea, a world,
of all possible worlds the best, inhabited by free agents.
This difficulty, therefore, which made the Socirtians take
prescience from God, disposed Leibnitz to take free-will
from Man : And thus lie fashioned his fantastical hypo^
thesis : He supposed that, when God made the body, he
impressed on his new-created machine a certain series or
suite of motions ; and that when he made the fellow soul,
the same series of ideas, whose operations, throughout
the whole duration of the union, so exactly jumped, that
whenever an idea was excited, a correspondent motion
was ever ready to satisfy the volition. Thus for instance,
when the mind had the will to raise the arm to the head,
the body was so p re-contrived as to raise, at that very
moment, the part required. This he called the PRE-
ESTABLISHED HARMONY. And with this he promised
to do wonders.
Now we see, that, from the principle of Plato, as well
as from that of Leibnitz, this grand consequence follows,
THAT WHATEVER is, is RIGHT; because every thing
in this world, even evil itself, tends to the greater per
fection of the whole. This Mr. Pope employs as a
principle, throughout a Poem (the most sublime that ever
was written) to humble the pride of Man, who would
impiously make God accountable for his creation. What
then does common sense teach us to understand by what
ever is, is right ? Did the Poet mean right with regard
to Man, or right with regard to God ? Right with regard
to itself, or right with regard to its ultimate tendency?
Surely with regard to God: For he tells us, his design is
To vindicate the ways of God to Man. L 16,
Surely
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN, 41
Surely with regard to its ultimate tendency: For he
tells us again,
All partial ill is universal good. 1. 283.
Yet Mr. DC Crousaz preposterously takes it the other
way ; and so perversely interpreted, it is no wonder that
he, and his wise friends, should find the Poem full of
contradictions*.
But, before we come to an examination of particulars,
it will be necessary to remind the reader once again, that
the subject of this Epistle is a justification of Providence,
against the impious objections of atheistic Men. It is to
vindicate the ways of God to Man. Thus the Poet
Addresses them at the begin/ ting:
Presumptuous Man ! the reason would st thou find
Why form d so weak, -so little, and so blind ? 1. 35.
Then say not Man s imperfect, Hearcn in fault. 1. 69.
As he proceeds, he still applies his reasoning to the
same Men:
Go and in thy scale of sense
Weigh thy opinion against Providence ;
Call imperfection what thou fancy st such ;
Say, here he gives too little^ there too much\
Destroy all creatures for thy sport or gust :
Yet cry, if Man s unhappy, God s unjust. 1. 1 09, 8$ seq. .
And concludes with this reproof to them :
Cease then, nor Order Imperfection name. 1. 273.
Having premised thus much, we now proceed to Mr.
De Crousaz.
Mr. Pope had said,
The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day,
Had he thy reason, would he skip and play ?
* J ai lu 1 essai de Mr. Pope (repond un ami de la companie) et
jainais je n eus plus besoin de patience. J ai fait des grands efforts,
pour y trouver quelque sens raisonable, et je les ai fails inutilement.
Tan tot j y suis tombe sur des precisions sophistiques, tantot sur des
decisions egalement hardies et sans preuves, tant6t enfin sur des
longues penodesd im pompeux galimatias, &c. Examen de 1 Essai.
Thus his friend runs on in this abusive way, and grows more parti
cular in his scurrility, while JVJr. De Crousaz, good man, is unable to
make him hold his peace.
Pleas d
42 A COMMENTARY ON
Pleas d to the last, he crops the flow ry food,
And licks the hand just rais d to shed his blood,
O blindness to the future ! kindly gi /n,
That each may fill the circle mark d by Heav n.
1. 77, # seq.
On which his Commentator: " We do not, indeed,
" perceive any thing in beasts, that shews they have an
" idea or apprehension of death. But, surely, with
" regard to Man, to reflect on death, and to contemplate
" the certainty of it, are of great use to a prudent life
" and a happy death. Reason and religion agree in this,
" and a man must want both one and the other, to cry
" out,
" O blindness to the future ! kindly giv n,
" That each may fill the circle mark d by Heav n,
16 This supposes, that if men had a foreknowledge of
" their destiny, they would do all they could to avoid it,
* and that they would succeed : Because, without this
" ignorance, Heaven, it seems, could never bring all its
" beings to Jill that circle marked out by it. Yet this,
" notwithstanding, is a consequence that can have no
" place, if it be impossible for men to act with freedom.
" But the doctrine of FATE necessarily draws us into
" contradictions*." Mr. Crousaz introduces his Com*
mentary, by solemnly acquainting bis reader, That he
had, from his very infancy, a strong bias towards LOGIC :
that he has given a considerable time to that study, and
does not repent his pains , that he has profited by maxims
which he has found in books not written with a design to
give them ; that he has run through every booh that has
fallen into his hands under that title, or any thing ap-
preaching to it\ that he has not even neglected the most
out -of -fashioned works of this kind: But, as the greatest
treasure is worthless, unless well used, he is resolved to
employ some of it upon Mr. Popef. And here you
have the fruits of his labours. Here he has shewn, to
some purpose, his skill m extracting doctrines from books
not designed to give them. And for this passage I will
* Commentaire sur Ja Traduction en vers de Mr. 1 Abbe du Resnel
de FEssai de Mr, Pope sur I Homuie, p. 63, 64*
t P. 27, 28.
be
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 43
be answerable, that be has extracted a doctrine from it
which our POET did not design to give; who, when he
had answered the atheistical objection about positive
evil, supposes the Objector to reply to this effect : It may
be true, what you say, that partial evil tends to universal
good : But why, then, has not God let me clearly into
this secret, and acquainted me with the manner how ?
The Poet replies, " For very good reasons. You were
" sent into the world on a task and duty to be performed
" by you. And as the knowing these things might
" distract you, or draw you from your station ; it was in
" mercy that God hath hid these things from you :
Heav ri from all creatures hides the book of fate,
All but the page prescribed, their present state,
From brutes what Men, from Men what spirits know ;
Or who would suffer Being here below? 1. 73, fy seq.
" To illustrate this by a familiar instance; how kindly
" hath Nature acted by the lamb, in hiding its death from
" it; the knowledge of which would have jmbitter d all
" its life ?" This is the force of the Poet s argument; and
nothing can be better connected, or more beautiful.
But our great Logician, instead of attending to the argu
ment of a very close reasoner (whose thread of reasoning,
therefore, one should have imagined might have conducted
a mathematician too, as he is, to the true sense of the
passage) rambles after a meaning that could not possibly
be Mr. Pope s ; because it both disagrees with the con
text, and directly opposes what he lays down in express
words in this very essay. Mr. De Crousaz, we see,
imagines that this instance of the lamb was given to shew
how hurtful a gift God bestowed upon us, when he gave
us the knowledge of our end. Mr. Pope says expressly,
that it was ^friendly gift :
To each unthinking being Heav n a friend,
Gives not the useless knowledge of its end:
To Man imparts it : but with such a view,
As ; while he dreads it, makes him hope it too.
Ep. iii. 1. 75, < seq,
i. e. " Heaven, which is not only friendly to Man, but
beast, gives not this latter the knowledge of its end;
- because such knowledge (which is necessarily attended
" with
44 A COMMENTARY ON
" with anxiety) would be useless to it. On the other
" hand, He gives it to Man ; because it is of the highest
" advantage to him, who, being to exist in a future state,
" may, by this means, make a fitting preparation for his
" good reception there; which preparation will temper,
" and, at length, quite subdue the anxiety necessarily
" attendant (as is said) on the knowledge of our end, by
" the certain hope of a happy immortality."
After these extraordinary fruits of our Logician s long
application to the art of thinking, he goes on, for four
pages together*, to shew how useful and necessary it is
for Man to cultivate his understanding. You ask whom
he contradicts in this? He absurdly supposes, Mr. Pope;
while he is indeed but quarrelling with his own imagina
tions. Here we must recollect what we observed above
of the subject of the Poem ; which is a vindication of
Providence against impious complainers. As these will
not acknowledge it just and good, because they cannot
comprehend it, and as this argument is only supported
by pride, the Poet thought proper to mortify that pride ;
which could not be done more effectually, than by shew
ing them, that even a savage Indian reasoned better :
Lo ! the poor Indian, whose untutor d mind
Sees God in clouds, and hears him in the wind ;
His soul proud science never taught to stray
Far as the solar walk, or milky w r ay 3
Yet simple nature to his hope has giv n,
Behind the cloud-topt hill, an humbler heav n ;
To be contents his natural desire,
He asks no angel s wing, or seraph s fire, 8$c.
1. 95, Sgseq.
What are we to conclude from hence ? That Mr. Pope
intended to di,scourage all improvements of the human
Understanding ? or that it was only his design to deter
men from impiety, and from presuming to rejudge the
justice of their Creator? Mr. Crousaz, contrary to
common sense, and the whole tenor of the Epistle, has
chosen the former part; though Mr. Pope had imme
d lately added,
* Cojnmentaire, p. 66 to 70,
Go
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 4.5
Go wiser thou, and in thy scale of sense
Weigh thy opinion against Providence.
Call imperfection what thou fancy st such,
Say, Here he gives too little, there too much ;
Destroy all creatures for thy sport or gust :
Yet cry, If Man s unhappy, God s unjust.
1. 109. fy seq*
But to this, the Commentator: " To whom does
rt Mr. Pope address himself in this long period ? Is it
" to those presumptuous men, who are continually
" confounding themselves, and abusing the fruitful-
" ness of their imaginations, to teaze good Christians
" with objections against Providence ? Their rashness
" and impatience well deserve, in my opinion, the cen-
" sures Mr. Pope here inflicts upon them*. "--Wonder
ful ! Our Logician has, at length, discovered the subject
of Mr. Pope s Epistle. Why then did he not do justice
to truth, by striking out all the rest of his remarks ? For
if this be right, all the rest must, of consequence, be
wrong.
Mr. Pope says, speaking of the end of Providence,
As much that end a constant course requires
Of showers and sunshine, as of Man s desires;
As-much eternal springs and cloudless skies,
As Men for ever temp rate, calm and wise.
1. 147, #&Y.
On which the Examiner, " A continual spring and a
" heaven without clouds would be fatal to the earth and
" its inhabitants ; but can we regard it as a misfortune
" that men should be always sage, calm and temperate?
I am quite in the dark as to this comparison f." Let
us try if we can drag him into light, as unwilling as* he is
to see. The argument stands thus : Presumptuous Man
complains of moral evil; Mr. Pope checks and informs
him thus : The evil, says he, you complain of, tends to
universal good ; for as clouds, and rain, and tempest, are
necessary to preserve health and plenty in this sublunary
world, so the evils that spring from disorder d passions
are necessary. To what ? Not to Mans happiness here,
* Commentaire, p, 79. f Examen de 1 Essai, &c.
but
46 A COMMENTARY ON
but to the perfection of the universe in general. So
that,
If plagues or earthquakes break not Heaven s design,
"Why then a Borgia or a Catiline?
On which the Examiner thus descants, " These lines
f< have no sense but on the system of Leibnitz, which
" confounds morals with physics; and in which, all that
: we call pleasures, grief, contentment, inquietude, wis-
" dom, virtue, truth, error, vices, crimes, abominations,
" are the inevitable consequence of a fatal chain of
" things as ancient as the world. But this is it which
11 renders the system so horrible, that all honest men
" must shudder at it. It is, indeed, sufficient to humble
" human nature, to reflect that this was invented by a
" man, and that other men have adopted it*." This is,
indeed, very tragical ; but we have shewn above, that it
hath its sense on the Pldtonic 9 not the Ldbnitzian system;
and besides, that the context confines us to that sense.
What hath misled the Examiner is his supposing the
comparison to be between the effects of two things in
this sublunary world ; when not only the elegancy, but
the justness of it consists in its being between the effects
of a thing in the universe at large, and the familiar and
known effects of one in this sublunary world. For the
position inforced in these lines is this, that partial evil
tends to the good of the whole :
Respecting Man, whatever wrong we call,
May, must be right, as relative to all. 1. 51.
How does the Pcet inforce it ? Why,^ if you will believe
the Examiner, by illustrating the effects of partial moral
evil in a particular system, by that of partial natural
evil in the some system, and so leaves his position in the
lurch ; but we must never believe the great Poet reasons
like the Logician. The way to prove his point he knew
was to illustrate the effect of partial moral evil in the
universe, by partial natural evil in a particular system.
Whether partial moral evil tend to the good of the uni
verse, being a question, which by reason of our ignorance
of many parts of that universe, we cannot decide, but
* Examen de 1 Essai, &c.
from
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 4?
from known effects ; the rules of argument require that
it be proved by analogy, i. e. setting it by, and comparing
it with a thing certain ; and it is a thing certain, that
partial natural evil tends to the good of our particular
system. This is his argument : And thus, we see, it
stands clear of Mr. De Crousazs objection, and of
Leibnitz s fatalism.
After having inforced this analogical position, the Poet
then indeed, in order to strengthen and support it, em
ploys the same instance of natural evil, to shew that,
even here to Man, as well as to the whole, moral evil is
productive of good, by the gracious disposition of Pro
vidence, who turns it deviously from its natural tendency.
Mr. Pope then adds,
From pride, from pride, our very reasoning springs;
Account for moral, as for nat ral things :
Why charge we Heaven in those, in these acquit?
In both, to reason right, is to submit. 1. 153, $ seq.
Our Commentator asks " Why, then, does Mr. Pope-
" pretend to reason upon the matter, and rear his head
" so high, and decide so dogmatically, upon the most
" important of ail subjects * ? " This is indeed pleasant.
Suppose Mr. De Crousaz should undertake to shew the
folly of pretending to penetrate into the mysteries of
revealed religion, as here Mr. Pope has done of natural^
must he not employ the succours of reason ? And could
he conclude his reasonings with greater truth and mo
desty, than in the words of Mr. Pope f To reason right,
is to submit. But he goes on, " If you will believe
"him [Mr. Pope] the sovereign perfections of the
" Eternal Being have inevitably determined him to create
" this Universe, because the idea of it was the most
" perfect of all those which represented many possible
" worlds. Notwithstanding, there is nothing perfect in
" this part, which is assigned for our habitation : it
" swarms with imperfections ; it is God who is the cause
" of them, and it was not in his power to contrive matters
f otherwise. The Poet had not the caution to recur to
[ Man s abuse of his own free-will, the true source of
* all our miseries, and which are agreeable to that state
* Cpmmentire ? p. 94.
"of
48 A COMMENTARY ON
" of disorder in which men live by their own fault *."
I will venture to say, every part of this reflection is false
and calumnious. The first part of it, that the Eternal
Being, according to Mr. Pope, was inevitably determined,
and that he had not power to contrive matters otherwise,
I have already shewn to be so* It is still a more un
pardonable calumny to say that Mr. Pope has thrown the
cause of moral evil upon God, and had not the caution
to recur to Mans abuse of his own free-will: For Mr.
De Crousaz could not but see that the Poet had, in so
many words, thrown the cause entirely upon that abuse,
where, speaking of natural and moral Evil, he says,
What makes all physical and moral 111 !
There deviates Nature, and here WANDERS WILL,
GOD SENDS NOT ILL. Ep. iv. 1. 109, 8g seq.
When he had said this, and acquitted the Supreme
Cause, he then informs us what is God s agency, after
natural and moral evil had been thus produced by the
deviation of nature, and depravity of will; namely, that
he hath so contrived, in his infinite wisdom and goodness,
that i^ood shall arise from this evil.
O
%
* - If rightly understood,
Or partial ill is universal good,
Or Chance admits, or Nature lets it fall,
Short and but rare, till Man improved it all.
And speaking in another place of God s Providence,
he says,
That counterworks each folly and caprice,
That disappoints th effects of ev ry vice.
Ep. ii. 1. 229.
What is this but bringing good out of evil ? And how
distant is that from being the cause of eviL-
After this, a philosopher should never think of writing
more till he had rectified what he had already wrote so
much amiss.
The next passage the Examiner attacks is the fol
lowing :
* Commentaire, p. 94, 95.
Better
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAK 4$
Better for us, perhaps, it might appear,
Were there all harmony, all virtue here;
That never air or ocean ieit the wind ;
That never passion discorripos d the mind :
But all subsists by elemental strife,
And passions are the elements of life. 1. 15 7? $ stqi
Here the Examiner Upbraids Mr. Pope for degrading
himself so far as to wrile to the gross prejudices of the
people. " In the corporeal nature (says he? there is no
" piece, of matte 1 that is perfectly simple; all are com-
i posed of sm:\K particles, called elementary; from
" their mixture, proceeds a fermentation, sometimes
" weak and sometimes strong, which still farther attenu-
" ates these particles : and thus agitated and divided,
" they serve for the nourishment and growth of organic
" bodies; to this growth it is we give the name of life.
" But what have the passions in common with these
" particles? Do their mixture and fermentation serve
rt for the nourishment of that substance which thinks,
" and do they constitute the life of that substance*? *
Thus Mr. De Crousaz, who, as, a little before, he could
hot see the nature of the comparison, so here, by a
frnore deplorable blindness, could not see that there was
any comparison at all. " You, says Mr. Pope, perhaps
" may think it would be better, that neither air nor ocean
" was vexed with tempests, nor that the mind was ever
" discomposed by passion ; but consider, that as in the
" one case our material system is supported by the
" strife of its elementary particles, so in the intellectual
" the passions of the mind are, as it were, the elements
" of human life, i. e. actions." All here is clear, solid,
and well-reasoned, and hath been considered above.
What must we say then to our Examiner & wild talk of
the mixture and fermentation of elementary particles of
matter for the nourishment of that substance that
thinks, and of its constituting the life vf that substance f
I call it the Examiner s, for, you see; it is not Mr. Pope s;
and Mr. Crousaz ought to be charged with it, because it
may be questioned whether it was a simple blunder, he
urging it so invidiously as to insinuate that Mr. Pofe
* Examert de 1 Essai,
VOL, XL E might
50 A COMMENTARY OX
might probably hold the materiality of the soul How
ever, if it was a mistake, it was a pleasant one, and arose
from the ambiguity of the word life, which in Evglixh, as
la vie in French, signifies both existence and human
action, and is always to have its sense determined by the
context
Mr. Pope says, speaking of the brute creation,
Nature to these, without profusion, kind,
The proper organs, proper powers ass-ign d. 1. 171.
Mr. Crousaz observes, that " in this verse, by the term
" Nature, we must necessarily understand the Author of
Nature] it is a figure much in use. SPINOZA has
" employed all his metaphysics to confound these twcr
" significations*." Therefore, I suppose, Mr. Pope must
not employ the word at all, though it be to vindicate it
from that abuse, by distinguishing its different signifi
cations. But this we are to consider as a touch of our
logician s art. It is what they call argumentum ad
iraidlam.
The Poet,
Far as Creation s ample range extends,
The scale of sensual, mental powers ascends r
Mark how it mounts to Maris imperial race,
From the green myriads in the peopled grass.
Ep. i. 1. 199, < scq.
On this the Commentator, "That place of honour,
" which the Poet has refused to Man in another part of
" his Epistle, he gives him here, because it serves to
" embellish and perfect the gradation. At every step
( Mr. Pope forgets one of those principal and most
" essential rules, which Mr. DCS Carles lays down in his
" method , that is, exactly to review what one asserts, so
" that no part be found to be gratis dictum* nor flfc
< whole repugnant to itself f." This we are to under
stand, as said, 쟥?. But I shall beg leave to
observe, that our logician here gives his lessons very
impertinently. For, that Mr. Pope, in calling the race
rf Man imperial, hath bestowed no title on him in this
place, which he had denied him elsewhere. He, with
* Comment-lire, p. 99. -j- Ibid, p. loS.
great
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 51
great piety and prudence, supposes what the Scripture
tells us to be true, that Man was created lord of this
inferior world , he supposes it, I say, in these lines of
this very Epistle:
Without this just gradation could they be
Subjected these to those, and all to thee ?
The powers of all subdued by thee alone,
Is not thy reason all those powers in one ?
1. 221, &; seq.
He expressly asserts it in the third Epistle :
Heaven s attribute was universal care,
And Mans prerogative to rule, but spare. J. 1 60.
And this, in the very place where he gives the description
of man in paradise.
What misled our Critic so far as to imagine Mr. Pope
had here contradicted himself was, I suppose, such
passages as these :
Ask for what end the heavenly bodies shine, 8$c.
And again,:
Has God, thou fool ! worked solely for thy good, 8$c.
But in truth this is so far from a contradiction to what
was said before of Mans prerogative, that it is a con
firmation of it, and of what the Scripture tells us con
cerning it. And because this matter has been mistaken,
to the discredit of the Poet s religious sentiments, by
readers, whom the conduct of certain licentious writers,
treating this subject in an abusive way, hath rendered
jealous and mistrustful, I shall endeavour to explain it.
Scripture says, that Man was made lord of all. But
this lord, become, at length, intoxicated with pride^ the
common effect of sovereignty, erected himself, like par
ticular rnonarchs, into a tyrant. And as tyranny con
sists in supposing ail made fcr the use of one ; he took
those freedoms with all, that are consequent on such a
principle. He soon began to consider the whole animal
creation as his slaves, rather than his subjects-, as being
created for no use of their own, but for his nly ; and
therefore used them with the utmost barbarity : and not
so content ; to add insult to his cruelty, he endeavoured
E 2 to
52 A COMMENTARY ON
to philosophise himself into an opinion, that animals
were mere machines, insensible of pain or pleasure.
And thus, as Mr. Pope says, Man affected to be the wvY,
as well as tyrant of the whole*. Our Commentator can
tell us what deep philosopher it was that invented this
witty system, and by the assistance of what METHOD so
wonderful a discovery was brought to light. It became
then one who adhered to the Scripture account of Mans
dominion, to reprove this abuse of it, and to shew that,
Heaven s attribute was universal care,
And Mans prerogative to ride, BUT SPARE.
The poetical Translator f has turned the words, to Maris
imperial race, by
Jusqu a I Hornme, ce chef, ce roy de runivers !
Even to Man, this head, this king of the universe.
Which is so sad a blunder, that it contradicts Mr. Pope s
whole system. Who, although he allows Man to be
king of . this inferior world, is far from thinking him king
of the universe. If the system itself could not teach
him this, yet methinks the following lines pf this very
Epistle might :
So Man, who here seems principal alone,
Perhaps acts second to some sphere unknown. 1. 57.
If the Translator imagined Mr. Pope was here speaking
ironically, where he talks of Mans imperial race, and so
would heighten the ridicule by ce roy de runivers, the
mistake is still worse ; the force of the argument depend
ing upon its being said seriously. For the Poet is
speaking of a scale, from the highest to the lowest, in
the mundane system.
But now we come to the famous passage which is to
fix the charge :
All are but parts of one stupendous whole,
Whose body Nature is, and God the soul.
That, chang d through all, and yet in all the same,
Great in the earth as in th etheiial frame,
* Grant that the powerful still the weak controul,
Be Man the wit and tyrant of the whole. Ep. iii. 54*
f M. L Abhe du Kesnel.
Warms
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 53
Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze,
Glows in the scars, and blossoms in the trees,
Lives through all lite, extends through all extent,
Spreads undivided, operates unspent,
Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part,
As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart;
As full, as perijct, in vile Man that mourns,
As the rapt Seraph that adores and burns:
To him no high, no low, no great, no small;
lie fills, he bounds, connects, and equals all.
Ep i. 1. 259, .
On which our Examiner, blind to the light of reason, as
well as etc/if to tit; channs of harmony A Spiricziat
(says he; would e.ipi\:.<s himself in this manner*. I be
lieve he would, and so would St. Paul too, writing on
the same subject, namely, the omnipresence of God in
his providence, and in his subsiunce. In him we live
and wove, ami hare our being \ ; / . e. we are parts of him,
hi* offspring^ as the Greek poet a Pantheist^ quoted by
the apostle, observes : and the reason is, because a re- j
ligious thctot, and an impious Pantheist, both profess to
believe the omnipresence of God. But would Spinoza,
as Mr. Pope does, call God the great directing mind of
(ill, who hath intentionally created a perfect universe J ?"
Or would Mr. Pope, like Spinoza, say there is but one
universal substance in the universe, apd that blind too?
We know Spinoza would not say the first; and we ought
not to think Mr. Pope would say the latter, because he
says the direct contrary throughout the Poem. Now it
is this latter only that is Spinozism.
But this sublime description of the Godhead contains
not only the divinity of St. Paul\ but, if that wjll not
satisfy, |he philosophy likewise of Sir haac Newton,
The Poet says,
All are, but parts of one stupendous whole,
Whose body Nature is, and God the soul.
* Examen de 1 Essai,
t for in htm we tree and JPO.I ( , find have ovr being ; as certain aho of
ym>* own Poets hate said: For ue are also his ojf spring* Acts xvii. 28,
J For that ig the meaning of
All Nature is but art, unknown to thee;
All chance, direction which thou canst not se^.
E 3 the
54 A COMMENTARY ON
The Philosopher, " Deus omniprassens est, non per
" virtutem solam, sed etiam per SUBSTANTIAM : narn
" virtus sine substantia subsistere non potest*."
Mr. Pope,
That, chang d through all, and yet in all the same,
Great in the earth as in th etherial frame, *
Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze,
Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees,
Lives through all life, extends through all extent,
Spreads undivided, operates unspent.
Sir Isaac Newton " In ipso continentur et moventur
" universa, sed abxque miitua passione. Deus nihil pa-
" tltur ex corporiim motibus ; ilia nullam senthmt resis-
" tentiom ex omni-prsesentia Dei.- Corpore omni et
" figura covporea desthuiturf. Omnia rcgit et omnia
" cognoscit. Cum unaquaeque spatii particula sit sewper,
" et unumquodque durationis indivisibile momentum,
" ubique, certe rjerum omnium fabricator ac dominus
" non erit nunquam, nusquam\"
Mr. Pope,
Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part,
As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart ;
As full, as perfect, in vile Man that mourns,
As the rapt Seraph that adores and burns :
To him no high, no low, no great, no small;
He fills, he bounds, connects, and equals all.
Sir Isaac Newton " Annon ex pha?nomenis constaf
" esse entem incorporeum, -viventem, intelligentem, om-
" nipraesentem, qui in spatio infinito, tanquam sensorio
" suo, res ipsas intime cernat, penitusque perspiciat,
" toiasquc intra se prtesens prcesentes compleetatur^
But now admitting, for argument s sake, that there was
an ambiguity in these expressions, so great, as that a
Spinozist mi^ht employ them to express his own particular
principles ; and such a thing might well be, without any
* Nt-wtoni Principia Schol. gcner. sub finem.
f Id. ib, I Id. ib. Opticre Quasst. 20.
reflection
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 55
reflection on the PocCs religion, or exactness as a writer,
because it h none on the apostles, who actually did that
which Mr. Pope is not only falsely, bi.it, as we see from
this instance, foolishly accused of doing, and because
the Spinozisls, in order to hide the impiety of their prin
ciple, are used to express, the omnipresence of God in
terms that any religious theist might employ : in this
case, I say, how are we to judge of the Poets meaning ?
Surely by the whole tenor- of his argument Now take
the words in the sense of the Sphiozists, and he is made,
in tiie conclusion of his Epistle, to overthrow all he has
been advancing throughout the body of it : for Sfirio?is?%
is t.ae destruction of an universe, where every tiling tends,
by a foreseen contrivance in all its parts, to the perfection
of the whole. But allow him to employ trie passage in
the sense of St. Paul, that He and cdl creatures live and
move, and have our being hi God, and then it will be
seen to be the most logical support of all th it haxl pre
ceded. For the Poet having, as we say, laboured through
his Epistle, to prove that every thing in the universe
tends, by a foreseen contrivance, and a present direction
of all its parts, to the perfection of the ickok ; it i
be objected that such a disposition of things implying
in God a painful, operose, and inconceivable extent of
providence, it could not be supposed that" such care
extended to all, but was confined to the more noble
parts of the Creation. This gross .conception of the
Jirst cause, the Poet exposes, by shewing that God is
equally and intimately present to every particle of mat
ter, to every sort of substance, and in every instant of
being.
And how truly, may be seen by the Inqwrr, into the
Nature of the human Soul, v\ rote expressly against Sj)i*
pozism, where the excellent author "has shewn the neces
sity of the immediate wjiyenke oj God. in every moment
ot time, to keep matter irom failing back into its primitive
nothing.
The Examiner goes on: " : Mr. Pope hath reason to
"call this whole, a stupendous whole ; nothing being
" more paradoxical and incredible, it we take his de-
" scriptioi} literal 1 v * : ." 1 will add, nor nothing more so
tie 1 Essai,
4 than
56 A COMMENTARY ON
than St. Paul s, in him we lire and more, and hare our,
b^ng, if taken Literally. I have met with one who took
it so and from thence concluded, with great reach of
M it, that SPACE was GOD.
But Mr. Pope having said of God, that he,
Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part,
As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart:"
the Commentator remarks, that ;< one should make a
" criminal abuse of these pompous expressions, if once
" launched out, with SPINOZA, to confound the substance
" of God with our own ; and to imagine tnat the
" substance of what \ve call creature, is the same with
" that Being s, to yl j ch we give the name of Creator *"
Spinoza is still the burthen of the song. To cut this
matter short, we shall taeiefore give Mr. Pope s own
plain words and sentiments, in a lino of this very Essay,
that overturn all $pinozi#rn from its very foundations :
where," speaking of what common seme taught mankind,
before false sense had depraved the understanding, he
THE WORKER FROM THE WORK DISTINCT W 7 AS
And simple reason never sought but one. [KNOWN,
Ep. iii. 1. 230.
But the Commentator is, at every turn, crying out,
A follower of Spinoza would express himself just so.
I believe he might ; and sure Mr. Crousaz could not be
ignorant of the reason. It being so well known that that
unhappy man, the better to disguise his atheism, covered
it with such expressions as kept it long concealed even
from those friends and acquaintance with whom he most
intimately corresponded. Ilence it must necessarily hap
pen, that every the best intentioned, most religious writer
\yilleinploy many phrases, that a Spinozist would use, irj
the explanation of his impiety.
To persist, therefore, from henceforth, in this accu
sation, v ill deserve a name, which it is not my business
to bestow,
Mr. Pope concludes thus ;
Cease then, nor order imperfection name :
Our proper [jliss depends on what we blaine.
* Commentaire,
Know
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 57
Know thy own point : this kind, this due degree
.Of blindness, weakness, heaven bestows on thee.
Submit. In this, or any other sphere,
Secure to be as blest as thou canst bear :
Safe in the hand of one disposing power,
Or in the natal, or the mortal hour. 1. 273, fy scq*
" The heart gives itself up (says Mr. De Crousaz) to
" the magnificence of these words. But I ask Mr. Pope,
" with regard o such consolatory ideas,, whether he was
" not beholden, in some measure, to religion for them *r"
This is in the true spirit of modern controversy. Our
logician had taken it into his head, that the Poet had no
religion; though he does riot pretend his proofs rise
higher than to a legitimate suspicion ; and finding here
a passage that spoke plainly to the contrary, instead of
retracting that ra sh uncharitable opinion, he would turn
this very evidence of his own mistake into a new proof
for the -support of it; and so insinuate, you see, that
Mr. Pope had here contradicted himself. He then
preaches, for two pages together, on the passage, and
ends in these words : " From all this 1 conclude, that
" the verses in question are altogether edifying in the
c " mouth of an honest man, but that they give" scandal
" and appear profane in the mouth of an ill onef/
How exactly can Rome and Geneva jump on occasion !
So the conclave adjudged, that those propositions, which
in the mouth of St. Austin were altogether ediiying, be
came scandalous and profane in the mouth of Jansenius.
But the Examiner pursues the Poet to the very end,
and cavils even at those lines, which might have set him
right in his mistakes about the sense of all the rest
All Nature is but art, unknown to thee;
All chance, direction -which thou canst not see;
All discord, harmony not understood ;
All partial evil, umrersal good \
And, spite of pride, in erring reason s spite,
One truth is clear, Whatever is, is in GUT.
" See (says our Examimr} Mr. Popes general conclusion,
" all that y, is right. So that at the sight of Charles
f* the First losing his head on the scaffold, Sir. Pope
.? Commentaire, p. 124, 1-25. f Ib, p. 127.
" must
8 A COMMENTARY ON
" must have said, this is right ; at the sight too of his
"judges condemning him, he must have said, this is
t ; at the sight of some of these /judges, taken
" and condemned for the action which he had owned to
u be right, he must have cried out, this is -doubly right*"
How unaccountable is this perverseness ! "Mr. Pope,
in this very Epistle, has himself thus explained Whatever
is, is right,
Respecting Man, whatever wrong we call,
May, mast be right, as relative to all,
So Alan, who here seems principal alone,
Perhaps acts second to some sphere unknown,
1 ouches some wheel, or verges to some goal ;
>r ris but a part we see, and not a whole. 1. 51,$ seq*
But it is amazing that the absurdities arising from the
sense in which the Examiner takes -Mr. Pcpcs grand
principle, Whatever is, is right, could not shew him his
mi-take: for could any one in his senses employ a pro
position in a meaning from whence such evident absur
dities immediately arise? I had observed, that this
conclusion of Mr. Popes, that w/Mtever is, is right, is
a consequence of his principle, that partial ciil tends to
universal good. Ihis shews us the only sense in which
the proposition can be understood, namely, that
WHATEVER IS, IS RIGHT, WITH REGARD
TO THE DISPOSITION OF GOD, AND TO
ITS ULTIMATE TENDENCY. Now is this any
encouragement to vice? Or does it take otf from the
crime of him who commits it, that God providentially
produces good out of evil? Had Mr. Pope abruptly said
in his conclusion, the result of all is, that whatever is,
is right, Mr. Be Crousaz had even then been inexcus
able for putting so absurd a sense upon the words, when
he might have seen that it was a conclusion from the
general principle above-mentioned; and therefore must
necessarily have another meaning. But what must we
think of him ? when the Poet, to prevent mistakes, had
delivered in this very place, the principle itself, together
with this conclusion as the consequence of it;
* Examen de I Eesai,
AH
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 59
All discord, harmony not understood ;
ALL partial evil, universal good ;
And spite of pride, in erring reason s spite,
One truth is clear, tVhatever is, is right.
I cannot see how he could have told his reader plainer,
that thi-s conclusion was the consequence of that prin
ciple, unless he had wrote THEREFORE, in great
church letters.
Thus have I gone through what I found material in
Mr. De Crousazs Examen and Commentary on the first
Epistle : I will only observe, that he has, in several
places, charged Mr. Pope with pretended absurdities and
impieties, for which his free Translator * is only answer
able. But as he professes not to understand English,
those things might have been passed over, had he not
had, at the same time, a very exact and excellent trans
lation in prose (*, by which he might have discovered the
mistakes of the other. Notwithstanding that, he has
chosen to follow a version abounding in absurdities;
because-it gave him frequent opportunity to calumniate.
On this account therefore, it may not be amiss to give an
instance or two of these confederate misrepresentations,
as a specimen of this part of the performance, likewise.
The Translator says,
II ne desire point cette celeste flame,
Qui des purs seraphins devore, et nourrit Tame J.
That is, the savage does not desire that heavenly fame,
which) at the same time that it devours the souls of pure
fcraphims, nourishes them. Mr. De Crousaz remarks:
* c Mr. Pope, by exalting the fire of his poetry by an
" antithesis, throws, occasionally, his ridicule on those
" heavenly spirits. The Indian, says the Poet, contents
" himself without any thing of that flame, which devours
." at the same time that it nourishes." But Mr. Pope is
altogether free from this imputation ; nothing can be
more grave or sober than his English on this occasion:
To be, contents his natural desire ;
lie asks no angel s wing or seraph s fire. 1. 105.
* Mr. Resnel. -\ By Mr. De Silhouette.
| Coinmentaire, p. 77.
But
60 A COMMENTARY ON
But neither, I dare say, did the Translator mean any
thing of ridicule in his devcre $ nourrit fame. It is
the sober solid jargon of the schools; and Mr. t Abbc
no douht had frequently heard it from the benches of the
Sorbonne. Indeed had a writer like Mr. Pope used such
an expression, one might have suspected that he was not
so serious as he should be.
Tli3 Poet, speaking of God s omnipresence, says,
As full, as perfect, in vile Man that mourns,
As the rapt Seraph that adores and burns. 1. 269.
Which Mr. I Abbe has thus translated,
Dans un homme ignore sous une humble chaumiere,
Que dans le seraphin, ray on nan t de lumiere *.
That is, as well in the ignorant man, who inhabits an
humble cottage, as in the seraphim encompassed with rays
oj light. Our Frenchman here, in good earnest, thought,
that a vile man that mourned could be none but some
poor inhabitant of a country cottage. Which has be
trayed Mr. De Crousaz into this important remark :
* For all that, we sometimes find in persons of the lowest
" rank, a fund of probity and resignation, that preserves
" them from contempt ; their minds are indeed but nar-
" row, yet fitted to their station/ c. But Mr. Pope
had no such childish idea in his head. He was opposing
here the human species to the angelic, ana so spoke of
that, when compared to this, as vile and disconsolate.
The force and beauty of the reflection depend on this
sense, and, \\hatis more, the propriety of it; and it is
amazing that neither the Translator nor the Critic could
see it. There are many mistakes ol this nature, both of
one and the other, throughout the Translation and the
Commentary, which perhaps we may have occasion to
take notice of as we proceed.
Jn a wyrd, if it were of such Men as our Commen
tator that Mr. Pope speaks, \\hen he expresses his con
tempt for modern philosophers, he might well say.
Yes, I despise the Man to books confined,
Who from his study rails at human kind.
Though what he learns he speaks, and may advance,
Some general maxims, or be right by chance.
* "Commentairp, p. 120.
LETTER
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN.
LETTER IL
HARD hath been the fate of our great Countryman,
to fall into the hands of such a Critic and Trans-
lator. We have already seen how Mr. De Crousaz hath
discharged himself. I now turn to M. VAbbe du Resncl,
whose sufficiency at least equals the malice and calumny
of the other ; and is attended with just the same issue.
I have shewn, in my first Letter, that this noble pro
duction of human wit and reason is as singular for its
philosophical exactness of method, as for its poetical
sublimity of style.
Yet hear how our Translator descants upon the matter:
" The only reason for which this Poem can be properly
" termed an Essay, is, that the Author has not formed
" his plan with all the regularity of method which it
" might have admitted." And again " I would not
" willingly have made use, in my version., of any other
" liberties than such as the Author himself must have
" taken, had he attempted a French translation of his
" own Work ; but I was by the unanimous opinion of all
<c those whom I have consulted on this occasion, and,
" amongst these, of several Englishmen, completely
" skilled in both languages, obliged to follow a different
" method. The French are not satisfied with sentiments
" however beautiful, unless they are methodically dis-
"posed-, method being the characteristic that distin-
" guishes cur performances from those cf our neighbours,
" and almost the only excellence which they agree to
" allow us. That Mr. Pope did not think hun$eif con-
" fined to a regular plan, I have already observed. I
" have therefore, by a necessary compliance with our
" taste, divided it into jive cantos */ But the Reader
will see presently, that our Translator was so far from
being ab!e to judge of Mr. Pope s method, that h6 did not
even understand either his subject or his sense, on which
all method is to be regulated.
For I now come to the Poef s second Epistle. He had
* See the English Translation of his Preface.
shev n.
6s A COMMENTARY ON
shewn, fn the first, that the ways of G od are too high
for our comprehension ; whence he rightly concludes,
that
The proper study of Mankind is Man.
This ccndusion, from the reasoning of the first Epistle,
he methodically makes the subject of his introduction to
the second , which treats of Mate s nature. But here,
immediately the accusers of Providence would be apt to
object, and say, ct Admit that we had run into an ex-
il treme, while we pretended to censure or penetrate the
" designs of Providence, a matter indeed too high for
" us ; yet have you gone as far into the opposite, while
" you only send us to the knowledge of ourselves. You
" must mock us when you talk of this as a study ; for
* c sure we are intimately acquainted with ourselves.
" The proper conclusion therefore from your demon-
" stration of our inability to coL-rorehend the ways of
" GOD, is, that we should turn ourselves to the study of
" the frame of NATURE." Thus, I say, would they be
apt to object ; for there are no sort of men more elate
with pride than these freethinkers ; the effects of which
the Poet hath so well exposed in his Jirst Epistle, espe-*
cially that kind of pride, which consists in a boasted
knowledge of their own nature. Hence we see the
general argument of the late books against religion turns
on a supposed inconsistency between revelation, and
what they presume to call- the eternal dictates of human
nature. The Poet, therefore, to convince them that
this study is less easy than they imagine, replies [from
1. 2 to 19] to the first part of the objection, by de
scribing the dark and feeble state of the human under-
standing, with regard to the knowledge of ourselves : and
farther, to strengthen this argument, he shews, in answer
to the second part of the objection [from 1. 1 8 to 3 1 ]
that the highest advances in natural knowledge may be
easily acquired, and yet we all the while continue very
ignorant of ourselves. For that neither the clearest
science, which results from the Newtonian philosophy,
nor the most sublime, which is taught by the Platonic,
will at all assist us in this self-study , nay, what is more,
that religion itself, s\ hen grown fanatical and enthusiastic^
1 1 will
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 63
will be equally useless : though pure and sober religion
will best instruct us in Man s nature, that knowledge
being essential to religion, whose subject is Man, con
sidered in all his relations, and consequently whose olytct
is God.
To give this second argument its full force, he illus
trates it [from 1. 30 to 43] by the noblest example that
ever was in science, the incomparable NEWTOX, whom
he makes so superior to humanity, as to represent the
angelic beings in doubt, when they observed him of late
unfold all the law of Nature, whether he was not to be
reckoned in their number ; just as men, when they see the
surprising marks of reason in an ape, are almost tempted
to think him of their own species. Yet this wondrous
creature, who saw so far into the works of Nature, could
go no farther in human knowledge, than the generality
of his kind. For which the Poet assigns this very just
and adequate cause : in all other sciences, the under
standing is unchecked and uncontrolled by any oppo
site principle ; but in the science of Man, the passions
overturn, as fast as reason can build up.
Alas, what wonder ! Man s superior part
Uncheck d may rise, and climb from art to art;
But when his own great work is but begun,
What reason weaves, by passion is undone.
This is a brief account of the Poet s fine reasoning in
his Introduction. The whob of which his poetical Trans
lator lias so miserably mistaken, that, of one of the most
strong and best connected arguments, he has rendered it
the most obscure and inconsistent, which even the officious
Commentator could scarce make worse by his important
and candid remarks. Thus beautifully does Mr. Pope
describe Man s weakness and blindness, with regard to
his own nature :
Placed on this isthmus of a middle state,
A being darkly wise, and rudely great ;
With too much knowledge for the sceptic side,
With too much weakness for the Stoic s pride,
He hangs between ; in doubt to act, or rest;
In doubt to deem himself a god, or beast;
In
64 A COMMENTARY ON
In doubt, his mind, or body to prefer,
Born but to die, and reasoning but to err.
And as he hath given this description of Man, for the!
very contrary purpose to which sceptics are wont to
employ such kind of paintings, namely, not to deter men
from the search, but to excite them to the discovery of
truth ; he hath, with great judgment, represented man
as doubting and wavering between the right and tworig
object; from which state there are great hopes he may be
relieved by a careful and circumspect use of reason. On
the contrary, had he Supposed Man so blind as to be
busied in chusing, or doubtful in his choice, between two
objects equally wrong, the case had appeared desperate :
and all study of Man had been effectually discouraged.
But his Translator not seeing into the force arid beauty
of this conduct, hath run into the very absurdity I have
here shewn Mr. Pope hath so artfully avoided.
The Poet says, ,
Man hangs between; in doubt to ACT, or REST.
Now he tells us tis Man s duty to act, not to rest, as the
Stoics thought ; and to their principle this latter word
alludes, lie having just before mentioned that sect*, whose*
virtue, as he says, is
- fiVd as in a frost ;
Contracted all, retiring to the breast :
But strength of mind is EXERCISE, not r&t.
1. 02, $ sefi
But the Translator is not for mincing matters.
Seroit-il en naissant ait travail condamm?
Aux douceurs du repos seroit-il destine \
According to him, Man doubts whether he be con
demned to a slavish toil and labour, or destined to the
luxury of repose ; neither of which is the condition
whereto Providence designed him. This therefore con
tradicts the Poefs whole purpose, which is to recommend
the study of Man, on a supposition that it will enable
him to determine rightly in his doubts between the true
and false object. 7 Tis on this account he says,
* With too much weakness for the Stoic s pride.
Alike
MR. POPFS ESSAY ON MAN, 65
Alike in ignorance, his reason such,
Whether he thinks too little, or too much ;
Chaos of thought and passion, all confus d,
Still by himself abusd, or disabusd.
i. e. the proper sphere of his reason is so narrow, and the
exercise of it so nice, that the too immoderate use of it
is attended with the same ignorance that proceeds from
the not using it at all. Yet, though in both these cases,
he is abused by himself^ he has it still in his own power
to disabuse himself, in making his passions subservient
to the means, and regulating his reason by the cndvf life.
Mr. De Crousaz himself had some glimmering of the
absurdity of those two lines of the Translator: and
because he shall not say, I allow him to have said no
thing reasonable throughout his whole Commentary^ I
will here transcribe his very words : " Ce qui fait encore,
<c que les antitheses frappent au lieu d instruire, c est
" qu elles sont otitrees. L homme nait-il condamne au
" travail? Doit-il se permettre la molesse et le repos?
" Quel sujet de decouragement ou de trouble, si Ton
" n avoit de choix qu entre deux partis si contraires?
" Mais nous ne naissons ni destines a un repos oisif, ni
" condamne s a un travail accablant et inhumain." p. 138.
Again, Mr. Pope,
In doubt to deem himself a god, or beast.
L e. Fie doubts, as appears from the line immediately
following this*, whether his soul be mortal or immortal ;
one of which is the truth, namely, its immortality, as the
Poet himself teaches, when he speaks of the omnipre
sence of God :
Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part
i Ep. 1. 267.
The Translator, as we say, unconscious of the Poet s
purpose, rambles, as before :
Tantot de son esprit admirant Texcellence,
II pense qu il est Dieu, quil en a la puissance ;
Et tantot gemissant des besoins de son corps,
II croit que de la brute, ii n a que les resorts.
Here his head (turned to a sceptical view) was running
* In doubt his mind or bvdy to prefer.
Voi.. XI, F on
66 A COMMENTARY ON
on the different extravagances of Plato in his divin&y,
and of DCS Cartes in his philosophy. Sometimes, says
he, Man thinks himself a rtal god, and sometimes again
a ?nere machine; things quite out of Mr. Popes thoughts
in this place.
Again, the Poet, in a beautiful allusion to the senti
ments and words of Scripture, breaks out into this just
and moral reflection upon Alans condition here,
Born but to die, and reasoning but to err.
The Translator turns this line and sober thought into
the most outrageous scepticism ;
Ce n est que pour inourir, qu il est ne, qu il respire,
Et tout sa raison fiest presque q.iiun delire r
and so makes his author directly contradict himself where
he says of Man, that he hath
too much knowledge for the sceptic side.
Strange ! that the Translator could not see his Au
thor s meaning was, that, as we are born to die and yet
enjoy some small portion of life ;> so, though we reason
to err, yet we comprehend some few truths. Strange !
that he could not see the difference between that weak
state of reason, in which error mixes itself with all its
true conclusions concerning Man s nature; and an
abstract quality, which, we vainly call reason, but which,
he tells us, is indeed scarce any thing eke but madness.
One would think he paid littk attention to the concluding
words of this sublime description, M here the Poet tells us,,
Man was
Created half to rise, and half to fall ;
Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all ;
Sole judge of truth, in endless error huiTd :
The glory > jest, and riddle of the world.
Indeed he paid so much, as to contrive how he might
pervert them to a sense consistent with his
Et tout sa raison n est prcsque qu un delire :,
Which he does in these words :
Tantot feu, tantot sage, il change A CIJAQUE INSTANT.
This is indeed making a madman of this sole judge of
truth,
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 67
truth, to all intents and purposes. But Mr. Pope says
nothing of his changing evert/ moment from sage to
fool , he only says, that folly and wisdom are- the insepa-
rate partage of humanity : which is quite another thing.
But mistakes, like misfortunes, seldom come single;
and the reason is the same, in both cases, because they
influence one another. For the Translator, having mis
taken both the nature and end of the description of the
weakness of human nature, imagined the Poet s second
argument for the difficulty of the study of Man, which
shews, that the dearest and sublimest science is no
assistance to it, nor even religion itself, when grown
fanatical and enthusiastic ; he imagined, I say, that this
fine argument was an illustration only of the foregoing
description, in which illustration, instances were given of
the several extravagances in jalse science ; whereas the
Poet s design was, just the contrary, to shew the prodi
gious vigour of the human mind, in studies which do not
relate to itself ; and yet that all its force, together with
those effects of it, avail little in this inquiry.
But there was another cause of the Translators error ;
he had mistaken, as we say, the Poet s Jirst argument for
a description of the weakness of the human mind with
regard to all truth ; whereas it is only such with regard
to the knmcledge of Mans nature. This led him, as it
would seem, to conclude, that, if Mr. Pope were to be
understood as speaking here in his second argument, of
real and great progress in science, it would contradict
what had been said in the description ; and therefore,
out of tenderness to his author, he turns it all to imagi
nary hypotheses.
Let us take the whole context.
I.
Go, wondrous creature ! mount where science guides,
Go measure earth, weigh air, and state the tides;
Shew by what laws the wafidYing planets stray,
Correct old time, and teach the sun his way.
II.
Go soar, with Plato, to th empyreal sphere,
To the first good, first perfect, and first fair ;
F 2 III. Or
68 A COMMENTARY ON
III.
Or tread the mazy round his followers trod,
And quitting sense call imitating God.
Go teach Eternal Wisdom how to rule,
Then drop into thyself, and be a fool.
Mr. Pope says, Go, wondrous creature ; and he never
speaks at random. The reason of his giving Man this
epithet, is, because, though he be, as the Poet says, in
another place *, little less than angel in his faculties of
science, yet is he miserably blind in the knowledge of
himself. "But the Translator not apprehending the Poet s
thought, imagined it was said ironically, and so trans
lates it ;
Va, sublime mortel, fier de ton excellence,
Ne crois rien ^impossible a ton intelligence.
Mr. Pope
Mount where science guides,
Go measure earth, weigh air, and state the tides ;
Shew by what laws the wandVing planets stray,
Correct old time, and teach the sun his way.
This is a description of the real advances in science,,
such as the Newtonian. And the very introduction to
it, Mount where science guides, shews it to be so.
But the Translator, carried away with the fancy of its
being an illustration of the foregoing description, turns
the whole to vain, jalse, imaginary science, such as that
of Des Cartes :
Le compas a la main, mesure Vurikcerse,
Regie a ton gri le flux et le reflux des mers ;
Five le poids de 1 air, et commands aux planetes ;
Determine le cours de leurs marches secretes ;
Soumets a ton calcul I obscurit6 des terns,
Et de i astre du jour conduis les movemens.
Here, in order to add the greater ridicule to his false
sense, he introduces the philosopher, with compass in
hand., measuring the. Universe, mimicking the office of
God in the act of creation, as he is represented by the
ancients, who used to say, O *<?? ywpfyti. Whereas
Mr. Popes words are,
* Ep. i. 1. 166.
Go
MR. POPES ESSAY ON MAN. 69
Go measure earth
Alluding to the noble and useful project of the modern
mathematicians to measure a degree at the equator and
the polar circle, in order to determine the true figure of
the earth, of great importance to astronomy and navi
gation.
Regulate, says he, according to your own will, the flux*
md reftuy of the sea; and this, Des Cartes presumed to
do : but it was Newton that stated the tides. It is the
pretended philosopher that JLv.es the weight of the air-,
but the real philosopher that weighs air. It was Des
Cartes that commanded the planets, and determined them
jo roll according to his vwn good pleasure ; but it was
Newton who
Shewd by what tews the wandering planets stray.
Submit, says the Translator, the obscurity of time to
your calculation. The Poet says,
Correct old time.
He is here still speaking of New-ton. Correct old time
jalludes to that great man s (Grecian Chronology, which he
reformed on those two sublime conceptions, the difference
between the reigns of kings, and the generations of men,
and the positions of the colur.es of the equinox and sol-
ptices, at the time of the Argonautic expedition.
And when the Translator comes to the third instance,
which is that of false religion, he introduceth it thus,
Et joignant la folie a la t emeriti.
Which shews how ill he understood Mr. Popes instances
of the natural philosophy of Newton, and the metaphy
sical philosophy of Plato. And yet all the justness, the
v force, and sublimity of the Poet s reasoning consist in
a right apprehension of them.
Mr. Pope
Go teach Eternal Wisdom how to rule,
Then drop into thyself, and be a fool.
These two lines have only contributed to keep the
Translator in his error ; for he took fazjirst of them to
be a recapitulation of ail that had been said from 1. 1 8.
Whereas both of them together, are a conclusion from it,
to this effect : " Go now, vain Man, elated with thy
F 3 " acquirements
70 A COMMENTARY OX
" acquirements in real science and Imaginary intimacy
" with God; Go and ran into all the extravagances I
" have exploded in the first I^pistle, where thou pre-
u tendest to teach Providence how to govern ; then drop
" into the obscurities of thy own nature, and thereby
" manifest thy ignorance and folly/
Mr. Pope then confirms and illustrates this reasoning
by one of the greatest examples that ever was :
Superior Beings, when of late they saw
A mortal Man unfold all nature s law,
Admir d such wisdom in an earthly shape,
And shew d a NEWTON, as we shew an ape.
In these lines he speaks to this effect " But to make
" you fully sensible of the difficulty of this study, I shall
" instance in the great Newton himself; whom when
" Superior Beings, not long since, saw capable of unfold-
" ing the whole law of Nature, they were in doubt whether
" the owner of such prodigious science should not be
" reckoned of their own order ; just as men, when they
" see the surprising marks of reason in an ape, are almost
" tempted to rank him with their own kind. And yet
" this wondrous man could go no farther in the know-
" ledge of his own nature, than the generality of his
" species."
Thus stands the argument, in which the Poet has paid
a higher compliment to the great Newton, as well as a
more ingenious, than was ever yet paid him by any of his
most zealous followers : yet the Translator, now quite in
the dark, by mistake upon mistake, imagined his design
\vas to depreciate Newtcris knowledge, and to humble
the pride of his followers : which hath made him play at
cross purposes with his original :
Des celestes esprits la vive intelligence
Regard avec pitie notre foible science ;
Newton, le grand Ncwion, que nos adm irons tons,
Est peut-etre pour eux, ce qu un singe est pour nous.
" The heavenly spirits, whose understanding is so far
" superior to ours, look down wit{i pity on the weakness
" of human science ; Newton, the great Newton, whom
" we so much admire, is perhaps in no higher esteem
" with them, than an ape is with us/
But
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 71
But it is not their pity, but their admiration, that is the
subject in question: and it was for no slight cause they
admired ; it was to see a mortal Alan unfold the whole
law of Nature: which, by the way, might have shewn
the Translator, that the Poet was speaking of real science
in the foregoing paragraph. Nor was it Mr. Pope s
intention to bring any of the ape s qualities, but its
sagacity, into the comparison. But why the ape.s, it may
be said, rather than the sagacity of some more decent
animal ; particularly the half-reasoning elephant, as the
Poet calls it, which, as well on account of this its supe
riority, as for its having no ridiculous side, like the ape,
on which it could be viewed, seems better to have de
served this honour? I reply, because as none but a shape
resembling human, .accompanied with great sagacity,
,could occasion the doubt of that animal s relation to
Man, the ape only having that resemblance, no other
animal was fitted for the comparison. And on this
ground of relation the whole beauty of the thought
depends; Newton, and those superior Beings being
equally immortal spirits, though of different orders.
And here let me take notice of a new species of the
sublime, of which our Poet may be justly said to be the
maker ; so new that we have yet no raame for it, though
of a nature distinct from every other poetical excellence.
The two great perfections of works of genius are wit and
sublimity. Many writers have been witty, several have
keen sublime, and some few have even .possessed both
these qualities separately, 15 ut &one that I know of,
besides our Poet, hath had the .art to incorporate them.
Of which he hath given many examples, both in this
Essay, and in his other poems. One of the noblest
-being the passage in question. This seems to be the
last effort of the imagination, to poetical perfection.
And in this compounded excellence the wit receives a
dignity from the sublime, and the sublime a splendour
from the wit ; which, in their state of separate existence,
they both wanted.
To return, this mistake seems to have led both the
Translator .and Commentator into a much worse ; into
a strange imagination that Mr. Pope had here reflected
iipon Sir Isaac Newton s moral character; which the
F 4 Poet
72 A COMMENTARY ON
Poet was as far from doing, as the philosopher was from
deserving : for,
After Mr. Pope had shewn, by this illustrious instance,
that a great genius might make prodigious advances in
the knowledge of nature, and at the same time remain
very ignorant of hiwsclfl he gives a reason for it : In
all other sciences the understanding has no opposite prin
ciple to cloud and bias it ; but in the knowledge of Man,
the passions obscure as fast as reason can clear up.
Could he, whose rules the rapid comet bind,
Describe, or fix, one movement of the mind ?
Who saw those fires here rise, ami there descend* \
Explain his own beginning, or his end ?
Alas, what wonder ! Man s superior part
Uncheck d may rise, and climb from art to art;
But when his own great work is but begun,
What reason weaves, by passion is undone.
Here we see, at the fifth line, the Poet turns from
Newton, and speaks of Man and his nature in general.
But the Translator applies all that follows to that phi
losopher :
Toi qui jusques aux cieux oses porter ta vue,
Qui crois en concevoir efc Tordre et 1 etendue,
Toi qui veux dans leur cours, leur prescrire la ioi B
Sc ais-tu regler ton cceur, s^ais-tu regner sur toi ?
Ton esprit qui sur tout vainemeiit se fatigue,
Avide de sjavoir, ne connoit point de digue ;
De quoi par scs travaux s ? cst~il rendu certain ?
Peut-il te decouvrir ton principe et ta fin?
On which the Commentator thus candidly remarks <
" It is riot to be disputed, but that whatever progress a
<c great genius hath made in science, he deserves rather
<c censure than applause, if he has spent that time in
" barren speculations, curious Indeed, but of little use,
* which he should have employed to know himself, hix
* Sir Isaac Newton in calculating the Telocity of a comet s, motion,
and the course it describes, when it becomes visible in its descent to,
and ascent from the sun, conjectured, with the highest appearance of
trulb, that they revolve perpetually round the sun, in ellipses, vastly
eccentrical, and very nearly approaching to parabolas. In which he
>vas greatly confirmed, in observing between two comets a coincidence
in their pcrihelicns, and a perfect agreement in their velocities.
" beginning
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 73
* beginning and his end, and how to regulate his con-
* ; duct; and if, instead of that candour and humanity,
" and desire to ohlige, virtues so becoming our nature, he
ft be overrun with ambition, envy, and a rage of pre-
" heminence, whose violence, and rancour are attended
" with the most scandalous effects, of which there are
" too many instances ; vices which Mr. Neu ton lived
" and died an entire stranger to*."
I have transcribed this passage to expose the malig
nant motives the Commentator appears to have had in
writing against the Essay on Man. As to the Translator,
it would be indeed harder to know what motives he could
have in translating it, for it is plain he did not under
stand it. Yet this is he who tells us, tlvatjhe Author of
the Essay has not Jormea his plan with all the regularity
of method which it might have admitted, that he wan
obliged to follow a different method ; Jar that the French
are not satisfied with sentiments however beautiful, unless
they be methodically disposed, method being the charac
teristic that distinguishes their performances from those
of their neighbours.
Thus neither did the Critic, nor Translator, suspect
(and never were poor men so miserably bit) that
Those oft are stratagems which errors seem,
Nor is it Homer nods, but we that dream.
The poetical Translator could not imagine so great a
Poet would pique himself upon close reasoning ; and the
fastidious philosopher, of course, concluded, that a man
of so much wit could hardly reason well ; so neither of
them gave a proper attention to the Poet s system. A
system logically close, though wrote in verse, and com
plete, though studiously concise: this second Epistle
particularly (the subject of the present Letter) containing
the truest, clearest, shortest, and consequently the best
account of the origin, use, and end of the passions, that
Js, in my opinion, any where to be met with. Which I
now proceed to consider, in the same strict manner
I have scrutinized the Introduction. For our Poet s
works want nothing but to be fairly examined by the
^eyerest rules of logic and good philosophy, to become
* Commentaire, p. 147,
as
74 A COMMENTARY ON
as illustrious for their sense, as they have long been for
their wit and poetry.
I go on therefore to the body of the discourse ; which,
as plain as it is, I find Mr. De Crousaz has made a shin
(though extremely free with his insinuations of irreligion
and Spinozisni) to mistake from end to end f So true is
the old saying, Homine ii riper it o mini cst iniquius.
The Poet having thus shewn the difficulty attending
the study of Man, proceeds to our assistance in laying
before us the elements or true principle of this science, in
an account of the origin, use, and end, of the passions.
He begins [from 1. 42 to 49] with pointing out the tico
grand principles in human nature, SELF-LOVE and REA
SON. Describes their gemral nature; the fkst sets Man
upon acting, the other regulates his action. However,
these principles are natural, not moral; and, therefore,
in themselves, neither good nor bad; but so, only as they
are directed.
Nor this a good, nor that a bad we call,
Each works its end, to move or govern all ;
And to their proper operation still
Ascribe all good, to their improper ill.
This observation is made with great judgment, in
opposition to the desperate folly of those fanatics, who,
es the ascetic, pretend to eradicate self-love , as the
jnijstic, would stifle reason ; and bothy on the absurd
fancy of their being moral, not natural principles.
The Poet proceeds [from 1. 48 to 57] more minutely
to mark out the distinct offices of these tico principles,
which he had before assigned only in general ; and here
he shews their necessity ; for without self-love, as the
spring, Man would be unactive, and withou t reason, as
the balance, active to no purpose,
Fixt like a plant on his peculiar spot,
To draw nutrition, propagate, and rot:
Or. meteor-like, flame lawless through the void,
Destroying others, by himself destroyed.
Having thus explained the ends and offices of each
principle, he goes on [from 1. 56 to 69] to speak of their
qualities: and shew r s how they are fitted to discharge
those functions, and answer their respective intention*.
The
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 75
The business of self -love being to excite to action, it is
quick and impetuous ; and moving instinctively, has, like
attraction, its force prodigiously increased as the object
approaches, and proportionably lessened as that recedes.
On the contrary, reason, like the author of attraction, is
always calm and sedate, and equally preserves itself
whether the object be near, or far otf. Hence the moving
principle is made more strong ; though the restraining
be more quick-sighted. The consequence he draws from
this is, that, if we would not be carried away to our
Destruction, we must always keep reason upon guard.
But it would be objected, that if this account be true,
human life would be most miserable, and, even in the
wisest, a perpetual conflict between reason and the pas
sions. To this therefore the Poet replies [from 1. 68 to
71.] Fwst, that Providence has so graciously contrived,
that even in the voluntary exercise of reason, as in the
mere mechanic motion of a limb, habit makes that, which
was at first done with pain, easy and natural. And,
secondly, that the experience gained by the long exercise
of reason goes a great way towards eluding the force of
self-love. Now, the attending to reason, as here recom
mended, will gain us this habit and experience.
Attention, habit and experience gains;
Each strengthens reason, and self-love restrains.
Hence it appears, that this station in which reason is
to be kept constantly upon guard, is not so uneasy a one
as may be at first imagined.
From this description of self -love and reason it follows,
as the Poet observes [from 1. 70 to 83] that both conspire
to one end, namely, human happiness, though they be
not equally expert in the choice of the means ; tiie dif
ference being this, that the first hastily seizes every thing
which has the appearance of good i the other weighs and
examines whether it be indeed what it appears.
This shews, as he next observes, the folly of the
schoolmen, who consider them as two opposite principles,
the one good, and the other ill ; the observation is season
able and judicious; for this dangerous school-opinion
gives great support to the Manichean or Zoroastran error,
the confutation of which was one of the Author s chief
ends
76 A COMMENTARY ON
ends of writing. For if there be two principles in Man,
a good and bad, it is natural to think him the joint pro
duct of the two Manichean deities (the first of which
contributed to his reason, the other to his passions) rather
than the creature of one individual cause. This was
Plutarch s notion, and, as we may see in him, of the
more ancient Manicheans. It was of importance there
fore to reprobate and subvert a noiion that served to the
support of so dangerous an error. And this the Poet
has done with more force and clearness than is often to
be found in whole volumes wrote against that heretical
opinion :
Let subtile schoolmen teach these friends to fight,
More studious to divide, than to unite ;
And grace and virtue, sense and reason split,
With all the rash dexterity of wit.
But the French Translator has mistaken these lines for
a reflection, not on the theology, as Mr. Pope intended
them, but on the logic of the .schools, u ith which the Poet
had here nothing to do. This, it is true, delights in
distinctions without difference, which is indeed a fault,
but not of so high malignity as the other : that, which
the Poet censures, leading directly into error ; this, which
his Translator reproves, only hindering our progress m
truth or science.
Qu im scholastique vain cherchant a discourir
Cache la veritb loin de la decouvrir,
Quo, par un long tissu d argumens inutiles,
Par des tours ambigiis, par des raisons inutilcs^
Voulant tout d mser jusques a Vmjini y
II separe avec art cc qui doit etre uni.
Now, though this fault in the logic of the schools be
universally owned and condemned by all out of them,
and by no one more than by Mr. De Crousaz himself,
in his books of logic, yet in pure contradiction to Mr.
Pope, who, as he thought, had condemned it, he could
not forbear saying, A poet may happen to write with more
elegance than a schoolman, and yet for all that not be
able to express himself with more justness and precision* .
The Poet having given this account of the nature of
* Commentaire, p. 152.
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 77
&lf-love in general, comes now to anatomize it, in a
discourse of the PASSIONS, which he aptly names the
Modes of Self-love ; the object of all these, he shews [from
1. 82 to 0,1] is good; and when under the guidance of
reason, real good ; either of our own, or of another ; for
some goods not being capable of division or communica
tion, and reason, at the same time, directing us to provide
for ourselves, we therefore, in pursuit of these objects,
sometimes aim at our own good, sometimes at the good
of others ; when fairly aiming at our own, the passion is
called prudence, when at another s, virtue.
Hence (as he shews from 1. 90 to 95) appears the folly
of the Stoics, who would eradicate the passions, things so
necessary both to the good of the individual, and of the
kind. Which preposterous method of promoting virtue,
he therefore very reasonably reproves. But as it was
from observation of die evils occasioned by the passions,
that the Stoics thus extravagantly projected their extir
pation, the Poet recurs [from 1. 94 to 101] to his grand
principle, so often before, and to so good purpose,
insisted on, that
partial ill is universal good:
and shews, that, though tlie tempest of the passions, like
that of the air, may tear and ravage some few parts of
nature in its passage, yet the salutary agitation produced
by it preserves the whole in life and vigour. This is his
Jirst argument against the Stoics, which he illustrates by
a very beautiful similitude, on a hint taken from Scripture
story*:
Nor God alone in the still calm we find,
He mounts the storm, and walks upon the wind.
But the Translator, not taking this allusion, has tunui
it thus :
Dieu lui-mme, Dieu sort de son profond repos.
And so lias made an epicurean god of the Governor of
the Universe, of whom Scripture afforded Mr. Pope this
grand and sublime idea. Mr. De Crousaz does not
spare this expression of God s coming out of his profound
repose. It u (says he) excessively "poetical, and presents
9 i Kings xix. 11, 12.
us
78 A COMMENTARY ON
us with hkas which we ought not to die ell upon. But
when he goes on (there is nothing in God s directing
the storm winch can authorize the passions that disturb
our happiness*), he talks very impertinently. Mr. Pope
is not here arguing from analogy, that as God raises and
heightens the storm, so should we raise and heighten the
passions. The words are only a simple affirmation in the
poetic dress of a similitude, to this purpose " Good is
* not only produced by the subdual of tiie passions, but
" by the turbulent exercise of them:"
Nor God alone in the still calm we find,
He mounts the storm, and walks upon the wind.
A truth conveyed under the most sublime imagery that
poetry could conceive or paint. For he is here only
shewing the providential effects of the passions, and how,
by God s gracious disposition, they are turned away from
their natural bias, to promote the happiness of mankind.
As to the method in which they are to be treated by
Man, in whom they are found, all that he contends for,
in favour of them, is only this, that they should not be
quite rooted up and destroyed, as the Stoics, and their
followers in all religions, foolishly attempted. For the
rest, he constantly repeats this advice :
The action of the stronger to suspend,
REASON still use, to REASON still attend.
His second argument against the Stoics [from 1. 100 to
1 1 3] is, that passions go to the composition of a moral
character, just as elementary particles go to the compo
sition of an organized body : therefore, for Man to go
about to destroy what composes his very being, is the height
of extravagance : it is true, he tells us that these passiom
which in their natural state, like elements, are in perpe
tual jar, must be tempered, softened, and united, in order
to perfect the work of the great plastic artist ; who, in
this office, employs human reason: whose business it is
to follow the road of Nature, and to observe the dictates
of the Deity. Follow her and God. The use and im
portance oi this precept is evident : for in doing the
Jirst, she will discover the absurdity of attempting to
* Commentate, p. 158.
eradicate
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 79
eradicate the passions ; in doing the second, she will learn
how to make them subservient to the interest of virtue ;
Suffice that reason keep to Natures road,
Subject, compound them, follow her and God.
Love, hope, and joy, fair pleasure s smiling train,
Hate, fear, and grief, the family of pain,
These mixt with art, and to due bounds confin d,
Make and maintain the balance of the mind.
His third argument against the Stoics [from 1. 1 1 2 to
1 1 7] is, that the passions occasion in us a perpetual ex
citement to the pursuit of happiness; which without
these powerful inciters we should neglect, in an insensible
indolence. Now happiness is the end of our creation ;
and this excitement the means of happiness: therefore
these movers, the passions, are the instruments of God,
which he has put into the hands of reason, to work
withal :
Pleasures are ever in our hands or eyes,
And when in act they cease, in prospect rise ;
Present to grasp, and future still to find,
The whole employ of body and of mind.
The Poet then proceeds in his subject ; and this last
observation leads him naturally to the discussion of his
next principle. He shews then, that though all the
passions have their turn in swaying the determinations of
the mind, yet every man has one MASTER PASSION" that
at length stifles or absorbs all the rest. The fact he
illustrates at large, in the first epistle of his second book.
Here [from 1. 116 to 132] he gives us the cause of it:
Those pleasures or goods, which are the objects of the
* passions, affect the mind, by striking on the senses;
1 but, as through the formation of the organs of the
: human frame, every man has some sense stronger and
" more acute than others, the object, which strikes that
" stronger or acuter sense, whatever it be, will be the
" object most desired ; and, consequently, the pursuit of
" that will be the ruling passion ;"
All spread their charms, but charm not all alike,
Ou different senses different objects strike ;
Hence different passions more or less inflame,
As strong, or weak, the organs of the frame;
And
8o A COMMENTARY ON
Arid hence one master passion in the breast,
Like Aarorfs serpent, swallows all the rest.
- that the difference of force in this ruling passion shall
at first, perhaps, be very small or even imperceptible ;
but nature, habit, imagination, wit, nay even reason
itself, shall assist its growth, till it hath at length drawn
and converted every other into itself.
All this is delivered in a strain of poetry so wonderfully
sublime, as suspends for a while the ruling passion in
every reader, and ingrosses his whole admiration:
As Man, perhaps, the moment of his breath
Receives the lurking principle of death ;
The young disease, that must subdue at length,
Grows \\ith his growth, and strengthens with his-
So, cast and mingled with his very frame, [strength ;
The mind s disease, its RULING PASSION came :
Each vital humour \\hich should feed the whole^
Soon flows to this, in body and in soul ;
Whatever warms the heart, or rills the head, j
As the mind opens, and its functions spread,
Imagination plies her dangerous art,
And pours it all upon the peccant part.
Nature its mother, habit is its nurse ;
IVit, spirit, faculties, but make it worse ;
Reason itself but gives it edge and power,
As Heaven s blest beam turns vinegar more sour*.
This naturally leads the Poet to lament the weakness
and insufficiency of human reason [from 1. 138 to 1,51];.
and the honest purpose he had in so doing was, plainly to
intimate the necessity of a more sublime dispensation to
mankind :
We, wretched subjects, though to lawful sway,
In this weak queen some fav rite still obey.
* The Poet, in some other of his Epistles, gives examples of the
doctrine and precepts here delivered. Thus, in that of the Use of
Riches, he has illustrated this truth in the character of Cotta :
Old Cotta sham d his fortune and his birth,
Yet u as nut Cotta void of wit or worth.
What though (the use of barb rous spits forgot)
His kitchen vied in coolness with his grot ?
If Cotta liv d on pulse, it was no, wore
Than brarnins, saints, and sagc$> did before*
13 Ah!
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 81
Ah ! if she lend not arms as well as rules,
What can she more than tell us we are fools ?
Teach us to mourn our nature, not to rnend,
A sharp accuser, but a helpless friend !
St. Paul himself did not druse to employ other argu
ments, when disposed to give us the highest idea of the
usefulness of Christianity *. But, it may be, the Poet
finds a remedy in natural religion : Far from it. He
here leaves reason unrelieved. What is this then but an
intimation that we ought to seek for a cure in that religion
which only dares profess to give it ?
But Mr. De Croumz says, the Poet, in this repre
sentation of human reason, has contradicted what he
said of it in the Sotll and 9 8th lines of this Epistle. And,
possessed with this notion, he goes on, in his declama
tory way, so unworthy a grave logician : Does jklr*
Pope take a pleasure in blowing hot and cold, in giving
zis successively the sweet and bitter, to reduce us to suck
a state that ice may not know what to stick to? If there
be no ill design at bottom in these contradictions, but that
they only spring from the imprudent custom 3 established
in the schools, of talking Pro and Con ^, e. And then
tells an idle common-place story of Cardinal Perron.
In the mean time it happens that this is no contradiction
at all, or, if it be, it is that very contradiction into which
St. Paul likewise fell, when lie so continually recom
mended the use of reason, and yet so energetically de
scribed its imbecility and impotence. But as our Logician
-said before, on a like occasion, this might be edifying in
a good ma%, yet give scandal in au ill one.
To proceed : As it appears from the account here
given of the ruling passion, and its cause, which results
from the structure of the organs, that it is the road of
nature, the Poet shews [from L 150 to .157] that this
road is to be followed. So .that the office of reason is
not to direct us what passion to exercise, but to assist
us in RECTIFYING, and keeping within due bounds,"
that which Nature haiji so strongly impressed; for that
A mightier Power the strong direction sends,
And several men impels to several ends.
* Epistle to tb* Homans, c. vii. f Comment, p. 166.
VOL. XL G Here
82 A COMMENTARY ON
Here Mr. De Crousaz pours out the full stream of his
candour and politeness, in his criticism on these lines :
Yet Nature s road must ever be preferred ;
Reason is here no guide, but still a guard ;
Tis her s to RECTIFY, not overthrow,
And treat this passion more as friend than foe.
The -only refuge I have here left (says he) is to suppose
that Mr. Pope thought the very mention of this notion
would be sufficient to expose the absurdity and horror of
it, and of those who regulate their conduct on such un
righteous and shocking ideas. And I conceive I should
do M. TAbb6 de Sep-Fontaines much injustice, if I did
not believe this was his intention in translating this
passage. But, to have a more perfect idea of the ridi
cule and horror of it, let us put the words into the mouth
cf a confessor *, c. And so he goes gayly on f , to re
present a ghostly father encouraging his penitents in their
several vices on Mr. Pope s pretended principles. But
Mve shall spoil his mirth, by only assuring him, that the
Poet s precept can have no other meaning than this,
* c That as the ruling piiSMon is implanted by Nature, it
" is Reason s office to regulate, direct, and restrain, but
cc not to overthrow it I o regulate the passion of avarice^
" for instance, into a >arsimonious dispensation of the
public revenues ; to direct the passion of love, whose
object is worth and beauty,
" To the fast good, fast perfect, and first fair\,
" as his master Plato advises ; and to restrain spleen, to
" a contempt and hatred of vice. * This is what the
Poet meant, and what every unprejudiced man could not
but see he must nee Is mean, by RECTIFYING THE
MASTER PASSION, though he had not confined us
to this sense, in the reason he gives of his precept, in
these words :
A mightier Power the strong direction sends,
And several men impels to several ends.
For what ends are they which God impels to, but the
ends of virtue ?
* Commentaire, p. 170. f Id. 171, 173,
But
it
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 83
But few a more perfect idea (to speak in his own free
terms) of the ridicule -of our Logician s Comment, let us
attend to what he remarks on these i\\-o last lines. These
words (says he) may bt understood m more than one sense,
which is not rare, and may have a more or less restrain
ed meaning, Tfiey are susceptible of a sense extrava
gant and injurious to Providence^ and they mil admit of
a reasonable one, and very worthy our attention*. Here
we see, he doubts about the meaning of the reason of the
precept ; admits it may have a good one ; and yet con
demns, without hesitation, and in the grossest and most
shocking terms, the precept itself; wliose meaning must
yet, according to all rational rules, even those of his
own logic, if it have any such, be determined by the
reason of it.
But to return. The Poet having proved that the rul
ing passion (since Nature hath given it us) is not to be
overthrown, but rectified, the next inquiry will be of
what use the ruling passion is ; for an use it must have,
if reason be to treat it thus mildly? This use he shews
us [from 1. 156 to 187] is twofold, natural and moral.
i. Its natural use is to conduct men steddily to one
certain end, who would otherwise be eternally fluctuat
ing between the equal violence of various and discordant
passions, driving them up and down at random :
Like varying winds, by other passions tost,
This drives them constant to a certain coast ;
and by that means enables them to promote the good of
society, by making each a .contributor tp the common
stock.
Let power or knowledge, gold or glory please,
Or (oft HfK)re strong than all) the love of ease:
Through lite tis follow cL
2. Its moral use is to ingraft our ruling virtue upon it :
Th eternal art, educing good from ill,
Grafts on this passion our best principle ;
and by that means enables us to promote our own good
&y turning the exorbitancy of the ruling passion into it$
neighbouring virtue:
* Cqnimentaire, p. 174. .
o 2 See
84 A COMMENTARY ON
See anger, zeal and fortitude supply ;
Ev n avrice, prudence ; sloth, philosophy :
Nor virtue, male or female, can we name,
But what will grow on pride, or grow on shame.
The wisdom of the divine Artist is, as the Poet finely
observes, very illustrious in this contrivance : For the
mind and , body having now one common interest, the
efforts of virtue will have their force infinitely augmented ;
Tis thus the mercury of Man is fixt,
Strong grows the virtue with his nature mixt ;
The dross cements what else were too refin d,
A,nd in one interest body acts with mimL
But lest it should be objected that this account favours
the doctrine of necessity, and would insinuate that men
are only acted upon in the production of good out of evil ;
the Poet teacheth [from 1. 1 86 to 1 93] that Man is &free
agent, and hath it in his own power to turn the natural
passions into virtues or into vices, properly so called :
Reason the bias turns from good to ill,
And Nero reigns a Titus, if he WILL,
Secondly, If it should be objected, that though the
Poet doth indeed tell us some auctions are beneficial and
some hurtful, yet he could not call those virtuous, nor
these vicious, because, as he has described things, the
motive appears to be only gratification of some passion ;
give me leave to answer for him, that this would be
mistaking the argument, which in this epistle [to 1. 239]
considers the passions only with regard tQ society, that
is, with regard to their effects rather than their motives.
That however it is his design to teach that actions are
properly virtuous and vicious -, and though it be difficult
to distinguish genuine virtue from spurious, they having
both the same appearance, and both the same public
effect* ; yet they may be disembarrassed. If it be aste4,
by what means? H replies [from 1. 192 to 195] by con
science, which is sufficient to the purpose ; for tis only a
man s own concern, to know whether his virtue be pure
and solid; for what is that to; others, while the effect of
this virtue, whether real or unsubstantial, is ? as to them^
the same ?
This light and darkness, in our chaos join d,
What shall divide ? The God within the mind.
A Platonic
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 85
A Platonic phrase for CONSCIENCE ; and here employed
mth great judgment and propriety. For conscience either
signifies, speculgtively, the judgment we pass of things
upon whatever principles we chance to have ; and then
it is only OPINION, a very unable judge and divider:
Or else, it signifies, practically, the application of the
eternal ruL of right (received by us as the law of God]
to the regulation of our actions ; and then it is properly
CONSCIENCE, The God (or the law of God) within the
mind, of power to divide the light from the darkness in
this chaos of the passions.
But still it will be said, why all this difficulty to dis
tinguish true virtue from false ? The Poet shews why
[from 1. 194 to 201.] " That though indeed vice and
" virtue so invade each other s bounds, that sometimes
" we can scarce tell where one ends and the other begins,
" yet great purposes are serv d thereby, no less than the
" perfecting the constitution of the whole ; as lights and
" shades, which run into one another in a well-wrought
" picture, make the harmony and spirit of the com-
" position/ But on this account to say there is neither
vice nor virtue, the Poet shews [from 1. 200 to 207]
would be just as wise as to say there is neither black nor
zchite\ because the shade of that, and the light of this>
often run into one another :
Ask your own heart, and nothing is so plain ;
Tis to mistake them costs the time ondputii.
This is an error of speculation, which leads men so
foolishly to conclude, that there is neither vice nor virtue.
2. There is another of practice, which hath more
common and fatal effects ; and is next considc. L-d
[from 1. 206 to 21 1 :] It is this, that though, at the first
aspect, Vice be so horrible as to affright all beholders,
yet, when by habit we are once grown familiar with her,
we* first suffer, and in time begin to lose the memory of
her nature :
Vice is a monster of so frightful mien,
As, to be hated, needs but to be seen ;
Yet seen too olt, familiar w ith her face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace.
Which necessarily implies an equal ignorance in the
G 3 nature
86 A COMMENTARY ON
nature of virtue. Hence men conclude, that there is
neither one nor the other.
But it is not only that extreme of vice next to virtue,
which betrays us into these mistakes ; We are deceived
too, as he shews us [from 1. 210 to 221 ], by our obser
vations about the other extreme.
But where th extreme of vice was ne er agreed :
Ask where s the North? at York tis on the Tweed;
In Scotland, at the Or cades \ and there
At Greenland, Zembta, or the Lord knows where.
For, from the extreme of vice s being unsettled, and per
petually shifting, men conclude, that vice itself is only
nominal.
3. There is yet a fMrd cause of this error of no vice
no virtue, composed of the other two, L c. partly specula
tive, and partly practical: and this also the Poet con
siders [from 1. 220 to 229], shewing it ariseth from the
imperfection of the best characters, and the inequality of
all; whence it happens that no man is extremely virtuous
or vicious, nor extremely constant in pursuit of either.
Why it so happens, the Poet assigns an admirable reason
in this line :
For, vice or virtue, SELF directs if still.
An adherence or regard to what is, in the sense of the
world, a man s own interest, making an extreme in either
impossible. Its effect in keeping a good man from the
extreme of virtue needs no explanation : And in an ill
man, self-interest shewing him the necessity of some
kind of reputation, the procuring and preserving that
will necessarily keep him from the extreme of vice.
The mention of this principle that self directs vice
and virtue, and its consequence, which is, that
Each individual seeks a several Goal,
leads the Author to observe
That Heaven s great view is one, and that the whole ;
and this brings him naturally round again to his main
subject, namely, God s producing good out of ill, which
he prosecutes in his inimitable manner [from 1. 228 to 239.]
13 That
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 87
That counterworks each folly and caprice ;
That disappoints th effect of ev ry vice:
That happy frailties to all ranks apply d, }
Shame to the virgin, to the matron pride.
Fear to the statesman, rashness to the chief,
To kings presumption, and to crowds belief.
I. Hitherto the Poet hath been employed in discours
ing of the use of the passions, with regard to society at
large, and in freeing his doctrine from objections. This
is thejirst general division of the subject of this Epistle.
II. He comes to shew [from 1. 238 to 251] the use of
these passions, with regard to the more conjined circle of
our friends, relations, and acquaintance* And this is the
second general division :
Wants, frailties, passions, closer still ally
The common hit Vest, or endear the tie :
To these we owe true friendship, love sincere,
Each homefelt joy that life inherits here:
Yet from the same we learn in its decline
Those joys, those loves, those interests to resign.
As these lines seem not to have been understood by
the Translator, and are scandalously misrepresented by
the Commentator, who would insinuate them to be a
kind of approbation of suicide*, f shall here give the
reader their plain and obvious meaning.
6 To these frailties (says he) we owe all the endear-
" ments of private life ; yet, when we come to that age,
" which generally disposes men to think more seriously
" of the true value of things, and, consequently, of their
" provision for a future state, the consideration that the
<c grounds of those joys, loves and friendships, are wants,
"frailties and passions, proves the best expedient to
" wean us from the world ; a disengagement so friendly
k< to that provision we are now making for another"
The observation is new, and would in any place be ex
tremely beautiful, but has here an infinite grace and pro
priety, as it so well confirms, by an instance of great
moment, the Poet s general thesis, That God makes ill,
at every step, productive of good.
III. The Poet having thus shewn the use of the
* Commentaire, p. 206,
G 4 passions
88 A COMMENTARY ON
passions in society and in domestic life, he comes in the
last place [from 1. 250 to the end] to shew their use to
the individual, even in their illusions; the imaginary
happiness they present helping to make the real miseries
of life less insupportable. And this is his third general
division :
Opinion gilds with varying rays
Those painted clouds that beautify our days :
Each want of happiness by hope supply d,
And each vacuity of sense by pride.
These build as fast as knowledge can destroy :
In folly s cup still laughs the bubble joy ;
One prospect lost, another still we gain ;
And not a vanity is given in vain.
Which must needs vastly raise our idea of God s good
ness, who hath not only provided more than a counter
balance of real happiness to human miseries, but hath
even, in his infinite compassion, bestowed on those, who
were so foolish as not to have made this provision, ar*
imaginary iiappiness ; that they may not be quite over
borne with the load of human miseries. This is the
Poet s great and noble thought, as strong and solid as it
is new and ingenious. But so strangely perverse is hi*
Commentator, that he will suppose him to mean any
thing rather than what the obvious drift of his argument
requires ; yet, to say truth, cares not much in what sense
you take it, so you will beHeve him that Mr. Pope^s
general design was to represent human life as one grand
illusion fatally conducted. But if the rules of logic serve
for any other purpose than to countenance the passions
and prejudices of such writers, it may be demonstrated,
that what the Poet here teaches is only this, " That these
illusions are the follies ef men, which they wilfully
" fall into, and through their own fault; thereby depriv-
" ing themselves of much happiness, and exposing them-
" selves to equal misery : But that still God (according
" to his universal way of working) graciously turns these
" follies so far to the advantage of his miserable crea-
fi tures, as to be the present solace and support of their
" distresses,"
-Tho Man s a fool, yet God is wise,
LETTER
MR. POPES ESSAY ON MAN. 89
LETTER III.
WE are now got to the Third Epistle of the Essay on
Man. Mr. Pope, in explaining the origin, use, and end
of the passions, in the second Epistle, having shewn that
Man has social as well as selfish passions ; that doctrine
naturally introduceth the third, which treats of Man as
a SOCIAL animal ; and connects it with the second, which
considered him as an INDIVIDUAL. And as the con
clusion from the subject of the First Epistle made the
Introduction to the Second, so here again, the conclusion
of the Second,
Ev n mean self-love becomes, by force divine,
The scale to measure others wants by thine,
makes the Introduction to the Third :
Here then we rest ; the Universal Cause
Acts to one end, but acts by various laws.
The reason of variety in those laws, all which tend to
one arid the same end, the good of the whole, generally,
is, because the good of the individual is likewise to be
provided for ; both which together make up the good of
the whole universally. And this is the cause, as the
Poet says elsewhere, that
Each individual seeks a several goal. Ep. ii. 1. 227,
But to prevent their resting there, God has made each
need the assistance of another : and so,
On mutual wants, built mutual happiness.
Ep. iii. 1.112.
It was necessary to explain these two first lines, the
better to see the pertinency and force of what follows
[from 1. 2 to 7] where the Poet warns such to take notice
of this truth, whose circumstances placing them in an
imaginary station of independence, and a real one of
insensibility to mutual wants (from whence general hap
piness results) make them but too apt to overlook the
true system of things ; such as those in full health and
opulence. This caution was necessary with regard to
society ;
go A COMMENTARY ON
society ; but still more necessary with regard to religion ;
therefore he especially recommends the memory of it
both to clergy and laity, when they preach or pray ; be
cause the preacher who does not consider the First Cause
under this view, as a Being consulting the good of the
whole, must needs give a very unworthy idea of him :
And the supplicant, who prays as one not related to a
whole, or as disregarding the happiness of it, will not
only pray in t/fl/w, but offend his Maker, by an impious
attempt to counterwork his dispensation :
In all the madness of superfluous health,
The trim of pride, the impudence of wealth,
Let this great truth be present night and day,
But most be present, if we preach or pray.
The Translator, not seeing into the admirable purposes
of this caution, hath quite dropt the most material circum
stances contained in the last line ; and, what is worse,
for the sake of a foolish antithesis, hath destroyed the
whole propriety of the thought, in the first and second,
and so, between both, hath left his Author neither sense
nor system,
Dans le sein du bonheur, ou de Cadcersitl.
Now, of all men, those in adversity have the least
need of this caution, as being the least apt to forget that
God consults the good of the whole, and provides Jor it,
by procuring mutual happiness by means of mutual wants:
Because such as yet retain the smart of any fresh calamity
are most compassionate to others labouring under the
same misfortunes, and most prompt and ready to relieve
them.
The Poet then introduceth his system of human soci
ability [1. 7, 8] by shewing it to be the dictate of the
Creator, and that Man, in this, did but follow the ex
ample of general nature, which is united in one clos&
system of benevolence:
Look round our world ; behold the chain of love
Combining all below, and all above.
This he proves, Jirst [from 1. 8 to 13] (on the noble
theory of attraction) from the oeconomy of the material
world i where there is a general conspiracy in all the parti
cles
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 91
cles of matter to work for one end ; the use, beauty, and
harmony of the whole mass.
I.
See plastic Nature working to this end,
The single atoms each to other tend,
Attract, attracted to, the next in place
Formd and impelled it s neighbour to embrace.
Formed and impelled, says he. These are not words
of a loose undistinguished meaning, thrown in to fill up
the verse. This is not our Author s way, they are full of
sense ; and of the most philosophical precision. For to
make matter so cohere as to fit it for the uses intended by
its Creator, a proper configuration of its insensible parts
is as necessary as that quality so equally and universally
conferred upon it, called attraction.
But here again the Translator, mistaking this descrip
tion of the preservation of the material universe by the
principle of attraction, for a description of its creation,
has quite destroyed the Poet s fine analogical argument,
by which he proves, from the circumstance of mutual
attraction in matter, that man, while he seeks society,
and thereby promotes the good of his species, co
operates with God s general dispensation. For the cir
cumstance of a creation proves nothing but a Creator :
Voi du sein du chaos eclater la lumiere,
% Chaque atome ebranle courir pour s embrasser, c
The Poet s second argument [from 1. 1 2 to 27] is taken
from the vegetable and animal world; whose beings serve
mutually for the production, support, and susteatatiotl of
each other.
II.
See matter next, with various life endued,
Press to one centre still, the general good",
See dying vegetables life sustain,
See life dissolving vegetate again :
All forms that perish, other forms supply,
By turns they catch the vital breath, and die ;
Like bubbles to the sea of matter born,
They rise, they break, and to that sea return, fyc.
One
92 A COMMENTARY ON
One would wonder what should have induced Mr. FAbbi
to translate the two last lines, thus :
Sort du neant y rentre, et reparoit au jour.
Comes out of nothing) and enters back again into nothing.
But he is generally as consistently wrong as his author
is right. For having, as we observed, mistaken the Poet s
account of the preservation of the material world, for
the creation of it ; he makes the very same mistake with
regard to the vegetable and animal , and so comes in
here (indeed rather of the latest) with his production of
things out of nothing.
I should not have taken notice of this mistake, but for
Mr. De Crousazs ready remark. " Mr. Pope, says he,
" descends even to the most vulgar prejudices ; when he
f tells us, that each being comes out of nothing, the
u common people think that that which disappears is
" annihilated. The atoms, the smallest particles, the
" roots of terrestrial bodies subsist*," fyc. Rut who it
is that descends to the worst vulgar prejudices, the
reader will see when he is told that Mr. De Crousaz
knew very well that Mr. Pope said not one word of each
being s going bach into nothing ; both from his not finding
it in the prose Translator, and from J\emer$ confession
in his preface, that he had taken great liberties with his
original .
. But this part of the argument, in which the Poet tells
us, that God
Connects each Being, greatest with the least;
Made beast in aid of Man, and Man of beast ;
All servd, all serving
awaking again the old pride of his adversaries, who cannot
bear that Alan should be thought to be serving as well as
served; he takes this occasion again to humble them
[from 1. 26 to 53] by the same kind of argument he had
so successfully employed in the Jirst Epistle, and which
our first Letter has considered at large.
However, his adversaries, loth to give up the question,
* Commentaire, p. 22 r.
will
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 93
will reason upon the matter; and we are now to suppose
them objecting agair-t Providence in this manner : We
grant, say they, that in the irrational, as in the inanimate
creation, all is served, and all is serving. But, with regard
to Man, the case is different; he stands single. For his
reason hath endowed him both with power and address,
sufficient to make all things serve him ; and his self-love,
of which you have so largely provided for him, will dis
pose him, in his turn, to serve none. Therefore your
theory is imperfect. " Not so, replies the Poet [from
" 1. 52 to 83] : I grant you, Man indeed affects to be the
**.zcit and tyrant of the whole, and would fain shake oiF
That chain of love,
Combining all below and all above ;
" But Nature, even by the very gift of reason, checks
" this tyrant : For reason endowing Man with the ability
<c of setting together the memory of the past, and con-
"jecture about the future ; and past misfortunes making
" him apprehensive of more to come, this disposes him
" to pity arid relieve others m estate of suffering. And
" the passion growing habitual, naturally extends its
* effects tq al} that have a sense of suffering. Now as
" brutes have neither Man s reason, nor his inordinate
<c self-love to draw them from the system of benevolence,
" so they wanted not, arid therefore have not, this hitman
^ sympathy of another s misery. By which passion we
" see those qualities, in Man, balance one another, and
" so retain him in that general order, in which Providence
"has placed its whole creation. But this is not all;
" Man s interest, amusement, vanity, and luxury, tie
"him still closer to the system of benevolence, by
" obliging him to provide for the support of otheV
" animals ; and though it be, for the most part, only to
" devour them with the greatest gust, yet this does not
61 abate the proper happiness of the animals so preserved,
" to whom Providence has not given the. useless know-
" ledge of their end. From all which it appears, that
" the theory is yet uniform, and perfect.
Grant that* the powerful still the weak controul,
pe Man the wit and tyrant of the whole :
Nature
94 A COMMENTARY ON
Nature that tyrant checks ; he only knows
And helps another creature s wants and woes.
Say, will the falcon, stooping from above,
Smit with her varying plumage, spare the dove?
Admires the jay the insect s gilded wings,
Or hears the hawk when Philomela sings ?
Man cares for all, c.
For some his interest prompts him to provide,
For more his pleasure, yet for more his pride.
This is the force of this fine and noble argument. The
senseless and scandalous reflections of Mr. De Croitsaz
on the latter part of it, I have refuted in my former
Letter.
But even to this, as a caviller would still object, we
must suppose him so to do, and say Admit you have
shewn that Nature hath endowed all animals, whether
human or brutal, with such faculties as admirably fit
them to promote the general good; yet, in its care for
this, hath not Nature neglected to provide for the private
good of the individual ? We have cause to think it hath,
and we suppose that it was on this exclusive consideration
that it kept back from brutes the gift of reason (so
necessary a means of private happiness), because reason,
as we find in the instance of Alan, where there is occasion
for all the complicated contrivance you have described
above, to make the effects of his passions counterwork
the immediate powers of his reason, in order to keep
him subservient to the general system; reason, we say,
naturally tends to draw beings into a private, independ
ent system.
This the Poet answers by shewing [from 1. 82 to 109]
that the happiness of animal and human life is widely
different. The happiness of human life consisting in the
improvement of the mind, can be procured by reason
only : but the happiness of animal life consisting in the
gratifications of sense, is best promoted by instinct*
And, with regard to the regular and constant operation
of each, in that, instinct hath plainly the advantage ;
for here God directs immediately $ there, only mediately,
through Man :
Reason,
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 95
Reason, however able, cool at best,
Cares not for service, or but serves when prest ;
Stays till we call, and then not often near;
But honest instinct comes a volunteer.
And reason raise o er instinct as you can,
In this tis God directs, in that tis Man.
The Commentator (who I will, in charity, suppose saw
nothing of this fine and sober reasoning, nor was appre
hensive of the objection which occasioned it, though that
objection arises directly from the subject) accuseth the
Poet of designing to represent brutes as perfect as Man^
who is (says he) of a nature susceptible of religion *.
But if our Commentator could not see the chain of
reasoning, he might yet, methinks, have attended to this
plain denunciation of the Poet, which introduceth the
discourse that gives him so much offence :
Whether with reason or with instinct blest,
Know all enjoy the power, which suits them best :
To bliss alike by that direction tend,
And find the means proportion d to the end.
Which shews the perfection here spoken of not to be a
perfection equalled to that of another being, but only such
an one as is proportioned to the being itself of whom this
perfection is predicated.
The Poet now comes to the main subject of his Epistle,
the proof of Man s SOCIABILITY, from the two general
societies composed by him; the NATURAL, subject to
paternal authority ; and the CIVIL, subject to that of a
magistrate i which he hath had the address to introduce,
from what hail preceded, in so easy and natural a man
ner, as shews him to have the art of giving all the grace
to the dryness and severity of method, as well as wit to
the strength and depth of reason. For the philosophic
nature of his work requiring he should shew by what
means those societies were introduced, this affords him
an opportunity of sliding gracefully and easily from the
preliminaries into the wain subject ; and so of giving his
work that perfection of method, which we find only in
the compositions of great writers.
For having just beibre^though to a different purpose,
* Cbmmentaire, p. 229.
described
9 6 A COMMENTARY ON
described the power of bestial instinct to attain the hap
piness of the individual, he goes on in speaking of instinct
as it is serviceable both to that, and to the kind [from
1. 108 to 148] to illustrate the original of society. He
shews, that though, as he had before observed, God had
founded the proper bliss of each creature in the nature
of its own being, yet these not being independent indi
viduals, but parts of a whole, God, to bless that whole,
built mutual happiness on mutual wants : now for the
supply of mutual wants, creatures must necessarily come
together; which is the first ground of society amongst
men :
Whatever of life all-quickening aether keeps,
Or breathes through air, or shoots beneath the deeps^
Or pours profuse on earth ; one Nature feeds
The vital flame, and swells the genial seeds.
Not Man alone, but all that roam the wood,
Or wing the sky, or roll along the flood,
Each loves itself, but not itself alone,
Each sex desires alike, till two are one.
He then proceeds to that called natural, subject to
paternal authority, and arising from the union of the two
sexes ; describes the imperfect image of it in brutes ;
then explains it at large in all its causes and effects :
and, lastly, shews, that as IN FACT, like mere animal
society, it is founded and preserved by mutual want?,
the supplial of which causes mutual happiness ; so is it
likewise in RIGHT, as a rational society, by equity, gra
titude, and the observance of the relation of things in
general :
Reflection, reason, still the ties improve;
At once extend the interest, and the love :
With choice we fix, with sympathy we burn,
Each virtue in each passion takes its turn;
And still new needs, new helps, new habits, rise,
That graft benevolence on charities.
MemVy and forecast just returns engage,
That pointed back to youth, this on to age ;
While pleasure, gratitude, and hope combin d,
Still spread the int rest, ane* preserv d the kind.
But the Atheist and Ilobbist, against whom Mr. Pope
writes,
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 97
iVritcs, deny the principle of 7%/?, or of natural justice,
before the invention of civil compact, which, they say,
gave being to it: And accordingly have had the effrontery
publicly to declare, that a state of nature teas a state of
war. "This quite subverts the Poet s natural society:
Therefore, alter his account of that state, he proceeds
to support the reality of it, by overthrowing the oppug*
riant principle of no natural justice; which he does
[from 1. 147 to 170] by shewing, in a fine description of
the state of innocence, as represented in Scripture, that
a state of nature was so far from being without natural
Justice, that it was, at first, the reign of God, where
right and truth universally prevailed :
Nor think, in Nature s state they blindly trod,
The state of Nature was the reign of God.
Self-love, and social, at her birth began,
Union, the bond of all things, and of Man.
Pride then was not; nor arts, that pride to aid;
Man walk d with beast, joint tenant of the shade.
Now let us hear Mr. De Crousaz, who tells us, he
had redoubled his attention upon this Epistle*. Mr. Pope
(says he) speaks with the assurance of an eye-witness of
what passed in this jirst age of the world }. And why
should he not, when conducted by his faith in Scripture
history ? That which he here represents, says he, is
much less credible in itself, than that whieh Moses
teacheth us^. Now what must we think of our Logician s
faith, who taking it for granted, that Mr. Pope would
not borrow of Moses, has here condemned, before he
was aware, the credibility of Scripture history? For the
account here given of the state of innocence is indeed no
other than that of Closes himself.
He goes on This religion, common to brutes ami men,
insinuates to us, that, in those happy times, men had no
more religion than brutes |.
This shrewd reflection points at the following lines :
In the same temple, the resounding wood,
All vocal beings hyrnn d their equal God.
But does not the Poet speak, in this very place, of
Man, as officiating in the priestly office at* the altar,
* Commentaire, p. 218. f Ib. p. 240.
VG>L, XI. H and
98 A COMMENTARY ON
and offering up his blameless eucharistical sacrifice {9
Heaven ?
The shrine with gore unstain d, with gold undrest,
Unbrib d, unbloody, stood the blameless priest.
As to the line,
All vocal beings hymr/d their equal God,
our Logician should be sent to Scripture for its meaning;
who, had he been as conversant with the Psalmist as
with Burgersdicius, would have learned to have judged
more piously as well as more charitably. The inspired
Poet calling to mind (as Mr. Pope did here) the age of
innocence, and full of the great ideas of those
Chains of love,
Combining all below, and all above ;
which
Draw to one point, and to one centre bring
Beast, man, or angel, servant, lord, or king ;
breaks out into this rapturous and divine apostrophe, to-
call back the devious Creation to its pristine rectitude ;
That very state Mr. Pope describes above : " Praise
" the Lord, all ye angels: praise him, all ye hosts.
" Praise him, sun and moon : praise him, all ye stars
" of light. Let them praise the name of the Lord : for
" he commanded, and they were created. Praise the
* Lord from the earth, ye dragons, and all deeps: Fire
" and hail, snow and vapour, stormy wind fulfilling hi&
" word : Mountains and all hills ; fruitful trees and all
" cedars : Beasts and all cattle, creeping things, and
" flying fowl : Kings of the earth, and all people ;
" princes, and all judges of the earth : Let them praise
" the name of the Lord ; for his name alone is excellent,
" his glory is above the earth and heaven," Psalm
cxlviii.
To return. Strict method (in which, by this time, the
reader finds the Poet more conversant than our Logician
was aware of) leads him next to speak of that society
which succeeded the natural, namely, the civil. But as-
lie does all by easy steps, in the natural progression of
ideas, he first explains [from 1. 169 to 200] the inter
mediate means widen led mankind from natural to civil
society.
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN, 99
Society. These were the invention and improvement of arts.
For while mankind lived in a mere state of nature, uncon
scious of the arts of life, there was no need of any other
government than the paternal ; but when arts were found
out and improved, then that more perfect form under
the direction of a magistrate became necessary. And
for these reasons; First, to bring those arts, already
found, to perfection. ; and, Secondly, to secure the pro
duct of them to their rightful proprietors. The Poet,
therefore, comes now, as we say, to the invention of
arts ; but being always intent on the great end for which
he wrote his Essay, namely, to mortify thatj>rufe, which
occasions the impious complaints against Providence, he,
with the greatest art and contrivance, speaks of these
inventions, as only lessons learnt of mere animals guided
by instinct; and thus, at the same time, gives a new
instance of the wonderful providence of God, who has
contrived to teach mankind in a way not only proper to
humble human arrogance, but to raise our idea of Infi
nite Wisdom to the greatest pitch. All this he does in a
prosopopoeia the most sublime that ever entered into the
human imagination :
See him from Nature rising slow to art !
To copy instinct then was reason?, part :
Thus then to Man the voice of Nature spake
" Go, from the Creatures thy instructions take ;
Thy arts of building from the bee receive,
( Learn of the mole to plow, the worm to wqave ;
: Learn of the little nautilus to sail,
" Spread the thin oar, and catch the driving gale, <"&
" Yet go ! and thus o er all the creatures Sway,
* Thus let the wiser make the rest obey,
" And for those arts mere instinct could afford,
" Be crown d as monarchy of as gods adord"
The delicacy of the Poet s address, in the first part of
the last line, is very remarkable. I observed, that, in
this paragraph, he has given an account of those inter
mediate means that led mankind from natural to civil
society, namely, the invention and improvement of arts.
Now here, on his conclusion of this account, and entry
fcpon the description of c/r/7 society itself, he connects
H 2 the
ioo A COMMENTARY ON
the two parts the most gracefully that can be conceived,
by tliis true historical circumstance, that it was the in
vention of those arts, which raised to the magistracy, in
this new society, now formed for the perfecting them.
I cannot leave this part without taking notice of the
strange turn the Translator has given to these two lines :
Thus then to Man the voice of Nature spake
" Go, from the Creatures thy instructions take."
La Nature indignt alors se fit entendre ;
Va, malhcurau* inortel, va, lui clit-elle, apprendre
Des pin* vils animaux.
One would wonder what should make him represent
Nature in such -a passion at Man, and calling him names,
when Mr. Pope supposes her in her best good humour,
and Man the most happy in the direction here given.
But what led him into this mistake was another full as
gross : Mr. Pope having described the state of innocence,
which ends at these lines,
Heaven s attribute was universal care,
And Man s prerogative to rule, but spare,
turns from those times to a view of these latter ages, and
breaks out into this tender and humane complaint :
Ah, how unlike the Man of times to come !
Of half that live the butcher and the tomb ;
Who, foe to Nature, hears the general groan,
Murders their species, and betrays his own, <r.
Unluckily, the Translator took this Man of times to
come, lor the corrupter of that first age ; and so
imagined the Poet had introduced Nature only to set
things right: he then supposed, of course, she was to be
very angry, and not finding Mr. Pope had represented
her in any great emotion, he was willing to improve upon
his original.-
To proceed : After all this necessary preparation, the
Poet shews [from 1. 199. to 211] how civil society fol
lowed, and the advantages it produced. But these are
best described in Iris own words :
Great Nature spoke ; observant Men obey d ;
Cities were built, societies v ere made :
Here rose one little state ; another near
Grew by like means, and join d through love, or fear.
Did
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 101
Did here the trees with ruddier burthens bend,
And there the streams in purer rills descend ?
What war could ravish, commerce could bestow.
And he returned a friend, who came a toe.
Converse and love mankind might strongly draw,
When love was liberty, and nature law.
Thus states wer-e form cL
Nothing can be juster than this account, or more cor
roborative of the Poet s general theory. Yet his Trans
lator has a strange fatality in contradicting him, when
ever he attempts to paraphrase his seme.
The first line Mr. I- Abbe turns thus,
Par ces mots la Nature excita Tindustrie,
Et de Plommcferoce cnchaina la June,
Chained up the fury of savage Man,
And so contradicts his Author s whole system of bencvo*
fence, and goes over to the Atheist s, who supposes the
state of nature to be a state of tear, That which seems
to have misled him was these lines :
What war could ravish, commerce could bestow,
And he return d a friend, who came a foe.
But the Translator should have considered, that though his
Author maintains a state of nature to be a state of peace,
yet he never imagined there could be no quarrels in it.
He well knew, that self-love drives through just and
through unjust*. He pushes no system to an extrava
gance ; but steers between doctrines seemingly opposite f,
or, in other words, follows truth uniformly throughout.
Having thus explained the original of civil society, he
sliews us next [from 1. 2 1 o to 216] that to this society a
civil magistrate, properly so called, did belong: and
this, in confutation of that idle hypothesis of Filmer, and
others ; which pretends that God conferred the regal
title on thejathers of families, from whence men, when
they had instituted society, were to fetch their magis
trates. On the contrary, our Poet shews that a king
was unknown till common interest, which led men to in
stitute civil government, led them, at the same time, to
institute a governor. However, that it is true that the
wisdom or valour, which gained regal obedience
* Ef>, iii. 1, 2/0. t See Preface.
H 3 from
102 A COMMENTARY ON
from sons to the sire, procured kings a paternal authority,
and made them considered as J at hers of their people.
Which probably was the original (and, while mistaken,
continues to be the chief support) of that slavish error ;
antiquity representing its earliest monarchs under the
idea of a common father, ZJKTKP uvfyw. Afterwards
indeed they became a kind of f oxter -fath ers, -voip^x
Xauv, as Homer calls them : till at length they began to
devour that flock they had been so Ipng accustomed to
shear, and, as Plutarch says of Cecrops, I* %*$
|3#<r*Aw? aypiw x$ (>ZXQVTWYI ywoptvw TTPANNON.
the name of king unknown,
Till common intVest plac cl the sway in one.
Twas Virtue only (or in arts, or arms,
Diffusing blessings, or averting harms)
The same which in a sire the sons obeyed,
A prince, the father of a people made.
Our Author has good authority for his account of the
origin of kingship. Aristotle assures us of this truth, that
Twas Virtue only or in arts or arms. CjAfcxb
I* TUV ETTiEIXtol/ K&6* UTTfOJ/ 3T71? ?J T3 (X,<*)V TUV (X.7TQ
r >c&
The Poet now returns [at 1. 216 to 242] to what he
had left unfinished in his description of natural society.
This, which appears irregular, is indeed a fine instance
of his thorough knowledge of the art of method. I will
explain it.
This third Epistle, we see, considers Man with re
spect to society, the second, with respect to himself; and
the fourth, with respect to happiness. But in none of
these relations does the Poet ever lose sight of him under
that in which he stands to GOD ; it will follow therefore,
that speaking of him with respect to SOCIETY, the ac
count would be then most imperfect, were he not at the.
same time considered with respect to his RELIGION; for,
between these two there is a close, and, while things
continue in order, a most interesting connexion.
True faith, true policy, UNITED ran;
That was but love of God, and this of Man. 1. 240=
Now religion suffering no change, or depravation, when
* Polit, lib. v. c. 10.
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 103
Man first entered into civil society, but continuing the
same as in the state of nature, the Poet, to avoid repeti
tion, and to bring the accounts of true and false religion
nearer to one another, in order to contrast them by the
advantage of that situation, .deferred giving account , of
iiis religion* till he had spoken of the origin of that
society. Thence it is, that he here resumes the account
of the State of Nature, that is, so much of it as he had
left untouched, which was only the religion of it. Ibis
consisting in the knowledge of .one God, the Creator of
all things, the Poet shews how Men came by that know
ledge. That it was either found out by REASON, which,
giving to every effect a cause, instructed -them to go from
gmise to cause, till they came to the FIRST, who being
causeless, would necessarily be judged self-existent : OF
taught by TRADITION , which preserved the memory of
the creation. He then tells us what these Men, unde-
Jbauched by false science, understood by God s NATURE
;and ATTRIBUTES. \st, Of God s mature-, that they
easily distinguished between the Workman and the work;
-and saw the substance of the Creator to be distinct and
different from that of the ^creature.; and so were in no
danger of falling into the horrid opinion of the Greek
.philosophers, and their follower Spinoza. And simple
reason teaching them, that the Creator was but one, they
easily saw that all teas right , and were in as little
danger of falling into the Manichean error, which, when,
oblique ivit Bad broke the steady light of reason, imagined
all was not right, having before imagined all was not the
work of One. 2dly, What they understood of God s
attributes ; that they easily conceived a father where
they had found a Deity, and that a sovereign Being coujcj
only be a sovereign good.
Tilt then, by Nature crowtfd, each patriarch sate,
King, priest, and parent of his growing state :
On him, their second Providence, they hung,
Their law his eye ; their oracle his tongue, fyc.
Till drooping, sick ning, dying, they began
Whom they reyer d as God, to mourn as Man,
L
Then, looking up from sire to sire, explor d
One great first Father, and that first ador d.
H 4 II. Or
104 A COMMENTARY ON
II.
Or plain tradition that this all begun,
Convey cl unbroken faith from sire to son.
I.
The Worker from the work distinct was known,
And simple reason never sought but one.
Ere wit oblique had broke that steady light,
Man, like his Maker, saw that all was right.
II.
To virtue in the paths of pleasure trod,
And owii d a Father when he o\vifd a God.
Love all the faith, fyc.
Our methodical Translator, pot Apprehending that the
Po f .-.t was here returned to finish his description of the
stale of nature, has fallen into one of the grossest mis^
takes that ever was committed, lie has taken this
account of trite r digit- n, for an account of the or/gin of
idolatry, and thus fatally embellishes his own blunder,
Jaloux d en conserver les traits et la figure,
Leur zele industrieux invcnta la peinture.
Leurs neveux, attentifs a ces homines fameux,
Qui par le droit du sang avoient regne sur eux,
Trouvent-ils dans leur suite un grand, un premier pere,
Leur aveugle respect 1 adore et ie revere.
Here you have one of the finest pieces of reasoning hi
the world, turned, at once, into as mere a heap of non
sense. You \\ ill wonder how it came about : the unlucky
term of Great jirst Father confounded our Translator,
and he took jt to signify a great-grandfather. But he
should have considered that Mr. Pope always represents
God, as every wise and good Man would do, and as our
religion directs us to do, under the idea of a FATHER:
Jhe should have observed that the Poet is here describing
those men, who
To virtue in the paths of pleasure trod,
And own d a father, where they own d a God.
You may be sure Mr. De Crousaz has not let these
fine strokes about the original of painting escape him.
lut here the Critic (which is a wonder) proves clearer-
gighted than the Translator j he saw that the lines in
question
MR. POPFS ESSAY ON MAN, 105
question were a continuation of something not immediately
preceding ; but that was all he saw, as may appear by
liis sagacious remark. " We shall be mistaken (says he)
" if we regard this passage as a continuation of the
" history immediately going before. It wouid be too
" irreat an anachronism to suppose it. The government
" of fathers oi families did not succeed that of kings \
41 on the contrary, the reign of these was established on
* the government of those*."
Order leads the Poet to speak next [from 1. 241 to
240] of the corruption of civil society into tyranny, and
its causes-, and here, uith all the art of address, as well
as truth, he observes, it arose from the violation of that
great principle, which he so much insists upon through
put his Essay, That each was made for the use of all:
Who first taught souls enslav d, and realms undone,
Th enormous faith of many made for one;
That proud exception to all Nature s laws,
T invert the world, and counterwork its cause?
And in this, Aristotle places the difference between a
king and a tyrant; that tlie Jirst supposes himself made
for the people ; the other > that the people are made for
fcirn f-
But we may be sure, that in this corruption, where
natural justice was thrown aside, and force, the Atheist s
justice, presided in its stead, religion would follow the
fate of civil society. We know, from ancient history, it
did so. Accordingly, Mr. Pope [from 1. 24.) to 270]
with corrupt politics describes corrupt religion and its
causes; he Jirst informs us, agreeable to his exact know
ledge of antiquity, that it was the POLITICIAN, and not
the PRIEST (as our illiterate tribe of Free-thinkers would
make us believe) who first corrupted religion. Secondly,
that the SUPERSTITION, he brought in, was not invented
by him, as an engine to play upon others (as the dreaming
Atheist feigns, who would thus miserably account for
the origin of religion), but was a trap he first fell into
himself.
* Commentaire, p. 249.
\ Btftola* ^ o BAEIAETZ eTj-at 0tfoa, owus o* (Av Ktxbifjuvot rocs a<rta? f
prffsv a<5Wi> tfffaxuciv, o $1 AJJ/*O? /*> tGgtfleti j^Qsv, rjl TYPANNIS, -crgos
v$tv w7r&*Ag7Ti> Hotyov; il pv rns t^c wfsXiia? p^u-. Pol. 1. v. c. 10.
Force
too A COMMENTARY ON
Force first made conquest, and that conquest, law;
Till .superstition taught the tyrant awe,
Then shard tht tyranny, then lent it aid,
And gods of conqu rors, slaves of subjects made.
All this is agreeable to the Poet s vast knowledge of
human nature. For that impotcncy of mind, as the Latin
writers call it*, which gives birth to the enormous crimes
accessary to support a tyranny, naturally subjects its ow 7 ner
to all the vaht, as well as real terrors of conscience.
Hence the whole machinery of Superstition.
She, midst the lightning s blaze and thunder s sound.
When rock d the mountains, awd when groan d tlie
ground,
She, from the rending earth and bursting skies,
Saw gods descend, and fiends infernal rise.
And it is no wonder that those, who had so impiously
attempted to counterwork the design of Nature, by acting
as if many mere wade for one, should now imagine they
saw all Nature arming in vengeance against them.
It is true, the Poet observes, that afterwards, when the
tyrant s fright was over, he had cunning enough, from the
experience of the effect of superstition upon himself, to
turn it by the assistance of the priest (who for his reward
went shares with him in the tyranny) as his best defence
against his subjects.
With Heaven s own thunders shook the world below,
And play d the god an engine on his foe.
For a tyrant naturally and reasonably takes all his slaves
for his enemies.
Having given the causes of superstition, he next de
scribes its objects :
Gods partial, changeful, passionate, unjust,
Whose attributes were rage, revenge, and lust:
Such as the souls of cowards might conceive,
And, form d like tyrants, tyrants would believe.
The ancient Pagan gods are here very exactly described.
This fact is a convincing evidence of the truth of that
* They expressed the passion for tyrannizing by this word. A fine
"Roman historian says 01 Mdr ius, that he was gloria imatiabilis^
IMFOTENS semperque inquittus. -:*nd of Fowpey, potcntid svd nun*
aut raro ad INPOTENTUM usus.
1 2 original
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 107
original which the Poet gives to superstition : for if these
phantasms were first raised in the imagination of tyrants,
they must needs have the qualities here assigned them.
For force being the tyrant s virtue, and luxury his hap
piness, the attributes of his god would of course be
revenge and lust , in a word, the antitype of himself.
But there was another, and more substantial cause, of the
resemblance between a tyrant and a Pagan god , and
that was the making gods of conquerors, as the Poet says,
and so canonizing a tyrant s vices with his person. That
these gods should suit a people humbled to the stroke of
a master, will be no wonder, if we recollect a generous
saying of the ancients , That, that day which sees a man
a slave, takes away half his virtue.
The inference our Poet draws from all this [from
1. 269 to 284] is, that self-love drives through right and>
wrong; it causes the tyrant to violate the rights of
mankind; and it causes the people to vindicate that
violation. For self-love being common to the whole
species, and setting each individual in pursuit of the same ,
objects, it became necessary for each, if he would secure
his own, to provide for the safety of another s. And
thus equity and benevolence arose from that same self-
love which had given birth to avarice and injustice.
For what one likes, if others like as well,
What serves one will, when many wills rebel ?
How shall he keep, what, sleeping or awake,
A weaker may surprise, a stronger take ?
His safety must his liberty restrain ;
All join to guard what each desires to gain>
The Poet hath not any where shewn greater address
in the masterly disposition of his work, than with regard
to the inference before us ; which not only gives a proper
and timely support to what he had before advanced, in
his second Epistle, concerning the nature and effects of
self-love ; but is a necessary introduction to what follows
concerning the reformation of religion and society, as we
shall see presently.
The Poet hath now described the rise, perfection, and
plecay of civil policy and religion, in the more early ages.
But the design had been imperfectly executed, had he
here
io8 A COMMENTARY ON
here dropped his discourse; there was, after this, a reco
very from their several corruptions. Accordingly, he
hath chosen that happy period for the conclusion of his
song. But as good and ill governments and religions
succeed one another without ceding, he now, with great
judgment, leaves facts , and turns his discourse [from
i. 283 to 296] to speak of a more lasting reform of
mankind, in the invention of those philosophic principles
by whose observance a policy and religion may be for
ever kept from sinking into tyranny and superstition.
Twos then the studious head, or gen rous mind,
Follower of God, or friend of human kind,
Poet or patriot, rose but to restore
The faith and morals, Nature gave before ;
Relumd her ancient light, not kindled new,
If not God s image, yet his shadow drew;
Taught power s due use to people and to kings,
Taught not to slack, nor strain its tender strings, &$c.
The easy and just transition into this subject, from the
foregoing, is admirable. In the foregoing, he had de
scribed the effects of self-lffce ; now the observation of
these effects, he, with great art and high probability,
makes the occasion of those discoveries, which speculative
men made of the true principles of policy and religion,
described in the present paragraph ; and this he evidently
hints at in that fine transition,
TWAS THEN the studious head, &;c.
Mr. De Crousaz, who saw nothing of this beauty,
says, It is not easy to guess to what epoch Mr. Pope
would have us refer his THEN*. He has indeed provec}
himself no good gucsser, which yet is the best quality
of a critic. I will therefore tell him without more acio,
Mr. Pope meant the polite ansl flourishing age of Greece;
and those benefactors to mankind, which,- I presume, he
had principally in view, were Socrates and Aristotle, who,
of all the Pagan world, spoke best of God, and wrote
best of government.
Having thus described the true principles of civil and
ecclesiastical policy, the great Poet proceeds [from 1. 295
* Commentaire, p. 261.
to
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 109
to 305] to illustrate his account by the similar harmony
of the universe:
Such is the world s great harmony, that springs
From union, order, full consent of things!
Where small and great, where weak and mighty, made,
To serve, not suffer, strengthen, not invade ;
More powerful each as needful to the rest,
And in proportion as it blesses, blest ;
Draw to one point, and to one centre bring
Beast, man, or angel, servant, lord, or king.
Thus, as in the beginning of this Epistle, he supported
the great principle of mutual love or association in
general, by considerations drawn from the properties of
matter, and the mutual dependence between vegetable
and animal life ; so, in the conclusion, he has inforced
the particular principles of civil and religious society,
from that universal hanno.ni/ which springs, in part, from
those properties and dependencies.
But now the Poet, having so much commended the in
vention and inventors of the philosophic principles of religion
and government, lest an evil use should be made of this,
by men s resting in theory and speculation, as they have
been always too apt to do, in matters whose practice
makes their happiness, he cautions his reader [from
1. 304 to 311] against this error, in a warmth of ex
pression, which the sublime ideas of that universal har
mony, operating incessantly to u.dversal good, had raised
up in him.
Tor forms of government let fools contest;
Whatever is best administered is best.
For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight;
His can t be wrong, whose life is in the right.
All must be false, that thwart this one great end,
And all of God, that bless mankind, or mend.
The seasonableness of this reproof will appear evident
enough to those who know, that mad disputes about
liberty and prerogative had once well nigh overturned
our constitution ; and that others about" mystery and
church authority had almost destroyed the very spirit of
our holy religion.
But these line lines have been strangely misunderstood
The
no A COMMENTARY ON
The Author, against his own express words, against the
plain sense of his system, has been conceived to mean,
tliat all governments and all religions were, as to their
forms and objects, indifferent. But as this wrong judg
ment proceeded from ignorance of the reason of the
reproof, as explained above, that explanation is alone
sufficient to rectify the mistake.
However, not to leave him under the least suspicion^
in a matter of so much importance, I shall justify the
sense here given to this passage more at large. First by
considering the words themselves: and then by comparing
this mistaken sense with the context
The Poet, we must observe, is here speaking, not of
civil society at large, but of a. just legitimate policy,
Th according music of a WELL-MIX D State.
Now r these are of several kinds ; in some of which the
democratic, in others the aristocratic, and in others the 1
monarchic FORM prevails. Now as each of these mivd
forms is equally legitimate, as being founded on the
principles of natural liberty, that man is guilty of the
highest Jolly, who chuses rather to employ himself in a
speculative contest for the superior excellence of one of
these forms to the rest, than in promoting the good admi
nistration of that settled form to which he is subject.
And yet all our warm disputes about government have
been of this kind. Again, if, by forms of government ^
inust needs be meant legitimate government, because
that is the subject under debate, then by modes of faith,
which is the correspondent idea, must needs be meant
the modes or explanations of the true faith, because the
Author is here too on the subject of true reHgioji]
Relum d her ancient light, not kindled new.
Besides, the very expression (than which nothing can be
more precise) confines us to understand, by modes of
faith, those human explanations of Christian mysteries,
in contesting which, zeal and ignorance have so perpe
tually violated charity.
Secondly, If we consider the context ; to suppose him
to mean, that all forms of government are indifferent,
is making him directly contradict the preceding para
graph; where he extols the patriot for discriminating the
true
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. in
true from the false modes of government. He, says the
Poet,
Taught power s due use to people and to kings,
Taught not to slack, nor strain its tender strings ;
The less and greater set so justly true,
That touching one must strike the other too
Till jarring interests of themselves create
Th according music of a well-mlvd State.
Here he recommends the true form of government,
which is the vmxt. In another place he as strongly
condemns the false, or the ahsolute jure d vcino form ;
For Nature knew no right divine in Men. 1. 237.
To suppose him to mean, that all religions are hidj/-
ferent, is an equally wrong as well as uncharitable sus
picion. Mr. Pope, though his subject in this Essay on
Man confines him to natural religion (his purpose being
to vindicate God s natural dispensations to mankind
against the Atheist), yet gives frequent intimations of a
more sublime dispensation, and even of the necessity of it ;
particularly in his second Epistle [1. 1 39], where he speaks
of the weakness and insufficiency of human reason*.
Again, in his fourth Epistle [1. 331] speaking of the
good man, the favourite of Heaven, lie says,
For him alone, hope leads from goal to goal,
And opens still, and opens on his soul ;
Till lengthened on to faith, and unconfin d,
It pours the bliss that fills up all the mind.
But natural religion never lengthened hope on to faith 1 ;
nor did any religion, but the Christian, ever conceive that
faith could fill the mind with happiness.
Lastly, The Poet, in this very Epistle, and in this very
place, speaking of the great restorers of the religion of
Nature, intimates that they could only draw God s shadow^
not his image :
o
Relum d her ancient light, not kindled new,
If not God s image, yet his shadow drew.
As reverencing that truth, which tells us that this disco
very was reserved for the glorious Gospel of Christ, who
is the IMAGE OF GOD f.
* See the second Letter, pp. 8o r 81. f <z Cor. iv. 4.
Havin
112 A COMMENTARY ON
Having thus largely considered Man in his- social capa->
city, the Poet, in order to fix a momentous truth in the
mind of his reader, concludes the Epistle in recapitulating
the two principles which concur to the support of this
part of his character, namely, self-face and social; and
shewing that they are only two different motions of the
appetite, to good, by which the Author of Nature has
enabled Man to find his own happiness in the happiness
of the whole. This the Poet illustrates with a thought
as sublime as is that general harmony he describes ;
On their own axis as the planets run,
Yet make at once their circle round the sun ;
So two consistent motions act the soul,
And one regards itself, and one the whole.
Thus God and Nature link d the general frame,
And bad se If- love and social be the same.
For he hath the art of converting poetical ornaments
into philosophic reasoning ; and of improving a simile
into an analogical argument. But of this art, more in
our next.
LETTER
THE Poet, in the two foregoing Epistles, having con
sidered MAN with regard to the m IVANS (that is, in all
his relation.^ whether as an individual, or a member of
societij) comes now, in this last, to consider him with
regard to the END, that is, HAPPINESS.
It ppens wit han invocation to happiness, in the manner
of the ancient poets, who, when destitute of a patron
god. appli< d to the Must, and, if she was engaged, took
up with any simple virtue, next at hand, to inspire and
prosper their designs. This was the ancient invocation,
which few modern poets have had the art to imitate with
any degree of spirit or decorum; while our Author,
not content to heighten this poetic ornament with the
graces of the antique, hath also contrived to make it
subservient to the method and reasoning of his philoso
phic composition. I will endeavour to explain so un
common a beauty.
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 113
It is to be observed that the Pagan deities had each
their several names and places of abode, with some of
which they were supposed to be more delighted than with
others, and consequently to be then most propitious
when invoked by the favourite name and/;/#ce: hence we
find the hymns of Homer, Orpheus, and Callimachus, to
be chiefly employed in enumerating the several names
and places of abode by which the patron god w r as dis
tinguished. Now, our Poet, with great and masterly
address, hath made these tzvo circumstances serve to
introduce his subject, according to the exactest rules of
logic. His purpose is to write of happiness ., method
therefore requires that he first define what men mean by
happiness, and this he does in the ornament of a poetic
invocation :
O happiness ! our being s end and aim,
Good, pleasure, ease, content ! whate er thy NAME.
After the DEFINITION, that which follows next, in
order of method, is the PROPOSITION, which here is,
that human happiness consist snot in external advantages,
but in virtue. For the subject of this Epistle is the
detecting the false notions of happiness, and settling and
explaining the true , and this the Poet lays down in the
next sixteen lines. Now the enumeration of happinesses
several supposed places of abode (which, in imitation of
the ancient Poets, he next mentions in the invocation,
and which makes ten of the sixteen lines) is a summary
of false happiness, placed in externals :
Plant of celestial seed ! if dropt below,
Say in what mortal soil thou deign st to grow?
Fair opening to some court s propitious shine,
Or deep with diamonds in the flaming mine?
Twin d with the wreaths Parnassian laurels yield,
Or reap d in iron harvests of the field ?
The six remaining lines deliver the true notion of
happiness to be in virtue. Which is summ d up in these
two ;
Fixt to no spot is happiness sincere,
Tis no where to be found, or every where.
The Poet, having thus defined his terms, and laid down
VOL. XL I his
ii4 A COMMENTARY ON
his proposition, proceeds to the support of his thesis*
the various arguments of which make up the body of the
Epistle.
He begins [from 1. 18 to 27] with detecting the false
notions of happiness. These are of two kinds, the phi
losophical and popular: the latter he had recapitulated
in the invocation, when happiness was call d upon at her
several supposed places of abode ; the philosophic then
only remained to be delivered.
Ask of the learn d the way, the learn d are blind.
This bids to serve, and that to shun mankind :
Some place the bliss in action, same in ease ;
Those call it pleasure, and contentment these.
The confutation of these philosophic errors, he shews
to be very easy, one common fallacy running through
them all ; namely this, That, instead of telling us in what
the happiness of human nature consists, which was what
was asked of them, each busies himself to explain in
what he placed his own peculiar happiness:
Who thus define it, say they more or less
Than this, that happiness- is happiness ?
And here, before we go any farther, it will be proper
to turn to our Logician, who, blind to these beauties in
the admirable disposition of the subject, is extremely
scandalized at the Poet for not proceeding immediately to
explain true, happiness (after having defined his terms
and delivered his thesis) but for going back again (as he
fancies) to a consideration of the false. Speaking of the
sixteen lines, he says, c( Happiness is then near me ?
" and I feel myself considerably refreshed; but, by ill
" luck, it is only for a moment, my doubts presently
"return, and I find myself in the hands of a Poet, who
" can do what he will with me, and who, having placed
" me on the very borders of happiness, on a sudden
" shuts up all its avenues*."
But a very little patience and impartiality would have
shewn him, that they were immediately laid open again
in the very next lines [from 26 to 33] where the Poet
shews, that if you will but take the road of nature, and
leave that of mad opinion, you will soon find happiness
* Commentaire, p. 2/1.
b
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 115
to be a good of the species, and, like common sense,
equally-distributed to all mankind:
Take Nature s path, and mad opinion s leave,
All states can reach it, and all heads conceive ;
Obvious her goods, in no extreme they dwell,
There needs but thinking right, and meaning well;
And, mourn our various portions as we please,
Equal is common sense, and common ease.
But this is so far from satisfying our bully-critic, that
it only furnishes him with fresh matter for a quarrel.
He is "much offended at the two first lines. " I must
" here renew my complaints. Take Nature s path, you
"say; and what am I to understand by this Nature?
" Must I take the reasonable nature for my guide ? But,
" according to you, the philosophers have consulted it to
" no purpose. Shall I give myself up to the animal
"nature? This would soon reduce me to great dis-
" tresses. Encompassed with doubts and difficulties,
" what have 1 left, but to suffer myself to be borne away
" by chance or hazard? And to conclude, that the
" counsel here given of taking Natures path, comes at
." length to this, to march steadily on in the footsteps of
*< fatality*."
It would be hard indeed, if our Commentator could
not find the road fa fatality, in every step the Poet takes.
But here, in avoiding the horns of his own chimerical
dilemma, he jumps upon it more aukwardly than usual.
The Poet, says he, must either mean the reasonable, or
the animal nature. Agreed. He could not mean the
animal nature. This too is true. Nor the reasonable.
Why not? Because it stood the philosophers in no stead.
What then? Do you think he has ever the worse opinion
of it on that account ? They could not possibly have run
into more mistakes about happiness, than you have about
the Poet s meaning: And yet, for all that, J apprehend
he will think never the worse, either of reason or himself.
But what is indeed incredible, after Mr. De Crousaz
had thus commented the two first lines, he goes on with
his remarks on the immediately following, Obvious her
goods, &;c. in these words: " See Mr. Pope once again
* Commentaire, pp. 272, 273.
I 2 " under
no A COMMENTARY ON
" under the necessity of restoring rsason to its
Prodigious ! It seems then, after all, Mr. Pope by Na
tures path, did indeed mean the reasonable nature. For
we now see it was Mr. De Crousaz, not Mr. Pope, that
was under the necessity of restoring reason to its rights.
To proceed : the Poet having exposed the two false
species of happiness, the PHILOSOPHICAL and POPULAR,
and denounced the true, in order to establish the last,
goes on to a confutation of the two former.
I. He first [from 1. 32 to 47] confutes the PHILOSO
PHICAL, which, as we said, makes happiness a particular,
not a general good : and this two ways :
1 . From his grand principle, That God acts by general
laws : the consequence of which is, that happiness, which
supports the well-being of every system, must needs he,
universal, and not partial, as the philosophers con
ceived :
Remember, Man ! the universal Came
Acts not by partial, but by genral laws ;
And makes, what happiness we justly call,
Subsist not in the good of one, but all.
2. From fact, That Man instinctively concurs with
this designation of Providence, to make happiness uni
versal, by his having no delight in any tiling uncommn^
nicated or unconimunicable :
There s not a blessing individuals find,
But some way leans and hearkens to the kind.
No bandit fierce, no tyrant mad with pride,
No cavern d hermit rests self-satisfied.
Abstract what others feel, what others think,
All pleasures sicken, and all glories sink,
II. The Poet, in the second place [from 1, 46 to
65] confutes the POPULAR error concerning happiness,
namely, that it consists in externals: which he does,
i . By inquiring into the reasons of the present provi
dential disposition of external goods: a topic of conno
tation chosen with the greatest accuracy and penetration*
For, if it appears they were distributed in the manner we*
see them, for reasons different from the happiness of
indhiduahy
* Gommentaire, p. 281.
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 117
individuals, it is absurd to think that they should make
jjart of that happiness.
He shews, therefore, that disparity of external pos
sessions among men was for the sake of society, I. to
promote the harmony and happiness of a system:
Order is Heaven s first law ; and, this contest,
Some are, and must be, greater than the rest,
More rich, more wise,
Because the want of external goods in some, and the
abundance in others, increase general harmony in the
obliger and obliged.
Yet here (says he) mark the impartial wisdom of
Heaven; this very inequality of externals, by contributing
to general harmony and order, produceth an equality
of happiness amongst individuals ; and, for that very
reason,
Heaven to mankind impartial we confess,
If all are equal in their happiness :
But mutual wants this happiness increase,
All Nature s difference keeps all Nature s peace.
Condition, circumstance, is not the thing:
Bliss is the same, in subject, or in king;
In who obtain defence, or who defend ;
In him who is, or him who finds, a friend.
Heaven breathes thro every member of the whole
One common blessing as one .common soul.
2. This disparity was necessary, because, if external
goods were equally distributed, they would occasion per
petual discord amongst men all equal in power :
But fortune s gifts if each alike possest,
And each were equal, must not all contest ?
From hence he concludes, That, as external good?
were not given for the reward of virtue, but for many
different purposes, God could not, if he intended hap
piness for all, place it in the enjoyment of externals :
If then to all men happiness w r as meant,
God in externals could not place content.
2. His second argument [from 1. 64 to 71] against the
popular error of happiness s being placed in externals,
is, that the possession of them is inseparably attended
1 3 with
US A COMMENTARY ON
with fear, the want of them with hope ; which directly
crossing all their pretensions to making happy, evidently
shew that God had placed happiness elsewhere:
Fortune her gifts may variously dispose,
And these be happy call d, unhappy those ;
But Heaven s just balance equal will appear,
Yv hile those are plac d in HOPE, and these in FEAR :
Not present good or ill, the joy or curse,
But future views of better or of worse.
Hence, in concluding this argument, he takes occasion
[from 1. 70 to 75] to upbraid the desperate folly and im
piety, of those, who, in spite of God and Nature, will
yet attempt to place happiness in externals.
sons of earth ! attempt ye still to rise,
By mountains pil d on mountains, to the skies?
Heaven still with laughter the vain toil surveys,
And buries madmen in the heaps they raise.
1 must not here omit to observe, that the Translator
(unconscious of all this fine reasoning between the 32d
and 75th lines, where the Poet first confutes the philoso
phic errors concerning happiness, and next the popular)
hath strangely jumbled together and confounded his
different arguments on these two different heads. But
this is not the worst; he hath perverted the Poet s words
to a horrid and senseless fatalism, foreign to the argu
ment in hand, and directly contrary to Mr. Popes general
principles.
The Poet says,
Remember, Man ! the universal Cause
Acts not by partial, but by general laws.
His Translator,
Une loi generate
Determine toujours la cause principale.
That is, a general law ever determines the principal cause,
which is the very fate of the ancient Pagans, who sup
posed that destiny gave law to the Father of gods and
men.
The Poet says again,
Order is Heaven s first law :
That
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 119
That is, the first law made by God, relates to order ;
which is a beautiful allusion to the Scripture history of the
Creation, when God first appeased the disorders of chaos,
and separated the light from the darkness. Let us now
hear his Translator :
L ordre, cet inflexible et grand legislateur,
Qui des decrets du Ciel est le premier auteur :
Order, that InjlexMe and grand legislator, who is the
first author of the laics of Heaven. A proposition
abominable in most senses, and absurd in all.
But now what says Mr. De Cronxaz to this, who is
perpetually crying out, fate ! fate ! as men in distraction
call outjire ? The reader will be surprised to hear him
pass this cool reflexion on two so obnoxious passages
" This Order, the first author of laws, presents us zcith
very harsh expressions, and bold ideas, which Mr. Pope
elsewhere condemns as rash and unjustifiable *. But this
is his moderation, when Mr. L Abbe comes under his
critique : And we know, the excellent prose translation
gave him the advantage of knowing whom he had to do
with.
To proceed : the Poet having thus confuted the two
errors concerning happiness, PHILOSOPHICAL and POPU
LAR, and proved that true happiness was neither solitary
and partial, nor yet placed in externals; goes on from
1. 74 to 91] to shew in what it doth consist, lie nad
before said in general, and repeated it, thai happiness lay
in common to the whole spf cies. He now brings us
better acquainted with it, in a more explicit informs jn
of its nature ; and tells us, it is ail contained in health,
peace, and competence; but that these are to be gu; led
only by VIRTUE, namely, by temperance, innocence, and
industry :
Reason s whole pleasures, all the joys of sense,
Lie in three words, health, peace, and competence.
But health consists with temperance alone,
And peace, O Virtue ! peace is all thy own.
The first line,
Reasons whole pleasures, all the joys of sense,
is the most beautiful paraphrasis for happiness; for all
* Commemaire, p, 282.
1 4 we
120 A COMMENTARY ON
we feel of good is by sensation and reflexion. The
Translator, who seemed little to concern himself with
the Poet s philosophy or argument, mistook this descrip
tion of happiness tor a description of the intellectual and
sensitive j acuities, opposed to one another ; and there
fore thus translates it :
Le charme seducteur, dont s enyvrant les sens,
Les plaisirs de 1 esprit encore plus ravissans.
And so, with the highest absurdity, not only makes the
Poet constitute senmal excesses a part of human happi
ness, but likewise the product of virtue.
After this, we shall no longer wonder at such kind of
translations as the following :
Mr. Pope says,
And peace, O Virtue ! peace is all thy own.
The Translator,
Pour vous, O paix du coeur, digne fille des Cieux,
Vous etes du bonheur le gage precieux.
Conscious innocence, says the Poet, is the only source
of internal peace, and known innocence of external-,
therefore peace is the sole issue of virtue ; or, in his own
emphatic words, peace is ALL thy own ; a conclusive
observation in his argument. O peace, says the Trans
lator, thou art the precious pledge oj happiness -, an ob
servation, which concludes no more than that the Trans
lator did not understand the argument, which stands
thus: Is happiness rightly placed -in externals? No,
for it consists in health, peace, and competence. Health
and competence are the product of temperance and in
dustry ; and peace, of perfect innocence.
But hitherto, the Poet hath only considered health
and peace :
But health consists with temperance alone,
And peace, O Virtue ! peace is all thy own.
One head yet remains to be spoken to, namely, compe
tence. In the pursuit of healt h mid peace, there is no
danger of running into excess. But the case is different
with regard to competence. Here, wealth and affluence
.would be too apt to be mistaken for it, in men s passion-
l ate
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 121
ate pursuit of external goods. To obviate this mistake,
therefore, the Poet shews, that, as exorbitant wealth
adds nothing to the happiness arising from a competence,
so, as it is generally ill gotten, it is attended with circum
stances that weaken another part of this triple cord,
namely, peace:
The good or bad the gifts of fortune gain ;
But these less taste them as they worse obtain.
Say, in pursuit of profit or delight,
Who risk the most, that take wrong means or right?
Of vice or virtue, whether blest or curst,
Which meets contempt, or which compassion first ?
Count all th advantage prosperous vice attains,
Tis but what virtue flies from, and disdains ;
And grant the bad what happiness they would,
One they must want, which is, to pass for good.
Here Mr. De Crousaz s remarks are indeed very ex
traordinary " To whom (says he) are these interro-
" gatories addressed? If you refer yourself to thejudg-
" ment of a troop of young libertines, such as are to be
" found in great cities, and in armies, you will certainly
" not have the laughers on your side*," fyc. What
then ? If reason require they should, is not that sufficient
for the Poet s purpose, in a discourse where reason is
continually appealed to, in a controversy between him
and them ? But our Logician s perversity is without ex
ample. Till rio\v, his quarrel with the Poet was, that
his arguments flattered the corrupt sentiments of libertin
ism. At present he is as captious with him for their op
posing those sentiments. Does not this look as if he
were resolved to approve of nothing Mr. Pope could
say?
Our Author having thus largely confuted the mistake
of happiness s consisting in externals, proceeds to expose
the terrible CONSEQUENCES of such an opinion, on the
sentiments, and practice of all sorts of men, making the
DISSOLUTE impious and atheistical, the RELIGIOUS un
charitable and intolerant, and the GOOD restless and dis
content. For when it is once taken for granted, that
happiness consists in externals, it is immediately seen
* Commentaire, p. 289, 290.
thai
122 A COMMENTARY ON
that ill men are often more happy than good; which sets
ail conditions on objecting to the ways of Providence,
and some even on rashly attempting to rectify its dispen
sations, though by the violation of law, divine and human.
Now this being the most momentous part of the subject
under consideration, is deservedly treated most at large.
And here it will be proper to take notice of the exquisite
art of the Poet, in making this confutation serve, at the
same time, for a full solution of all objections which
might be made to his main proposition, that happiness
consists not in externals.
I. He begins, first of all, with the ATHEISTICAL com-
plainer.?, and pursues their impiety [from 1. 90 to i2q]
with all the vengeance of his eloquence.
Oh blind to truth, and God s whole scheme below !
Who fancy bliss to vice, to virtue woe :
Who sees and follows that great scheme the best,
Best knows the blessing, and will most be blest.
He exposes their folly, even on their own notions of
external goods:
i. By examples [from line 96 to 109] where he shews
first, that, if good men have been untimely cut off, this
is riot to be ascribed to their virtues, but to a contempt
of life that hurried them into dangers. Secondly, That
if they will still persist in ascribing untimely death to
virtue, they must needs, on the same principle, likewise
ascribe long lije to it. Consequently as the argument,
in fact, concludes both ways, in logic, it concludes
neither.
But fools the good alone unhappy call,
From ills or accidents that chance to all.
Say, was it virtue, more though Heaven ne er gave,
Lamented Digby! sunk thee to the grave?
Tell me, if virtue made the son expire,
Why full of days and honour lives the sire ?
Why drew Marseilles good bishop purer breath,
When nature sicken d, and each gale was death ?
Or why so long (in life if long can be)
Lent Heaven a parent to the poor, and me ?
This last instance of the Poet s illustration of the ways
of Providence, the reader sees, has a peculiar elegance;
where
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 123
where a tribute of piety to a parent is paid in a return of
thanks to [Lent Heaven a parent, &c.] and made sub
servient of [Or ichy so long J his vindication ofj the
Great Father of all things.
2. He exposes their tolly [from line 108 to 129] by *
considerations drawn from the system of Nature ; and
these, two-fold, natural and moral. You accuse God,
says the Poet, because the good man is subject to
natural and moral evil : Let us see whence these pro
ceed. Natural evil is the necessary consequence of a
material world so constituted : But that this constitution
was best, we have proved in the first Epistle. Moral
evil ariseth from the depraved will of Man : Thereto re,
neither the one nor the other from God.
What makes all physical or moral ill ?
There deviates Nature, and here wanders Will.
God sends not ill, if rightly understood ;
Or partial ill is universal good ;
Or chance admits, or Nature lets it fall,
Short, and but rare, till Man improv d it all.
i
But you say (adds the Poet, to these impious corn-
plainers) that though it be fit Man should suffer the
miseries which he brings upon himself, by the commission
of moral evil, yet it seems to be unfit his innocent pos
terity should be^ar a share of them. To this, says he, I
reply,
We just as wisely might of Heaven complain
That righteous Abel was destroy d by Cain,
As that the virtuous Son is ill at ease,
When his lewd Father gave the dire disease.
But you will still say (continues the Poet) why does
not God either prevent, or immediately repair these evils?
You may as well ask, why he cloth not work continual
miracles, and every moment reverse the established laus
of Nature ;
Shall burning 2Etna, if a sage requires,
Forget to thiuder, and recal her fires ?
On air or sea new motions be imprest,
O blameless Bethel! to relieve thy breast ?
When
4 A COMMENTARY ON
When the loose mountain trembles from on high,
Shall gravitation cease, if you go by ?
Or, some old temple nodding to its fall,
For Chart res head reserve the hanging wall ?
This is the force of the Poet s reasoning, and these the
n to whom he adresses it, namely, the libertbie cavil
lers against Providence.
II. But now, so unhappy is the condition of our cor
rupt nature, that these are not the only complainers.
Religious men are but too apt, if not to speak out, yet
sometimes secretly to murmur against Providence, and
say, its way* are not equal : Especially those more , in
ordinately devoted to a sect or party are scandalized, that
the JUST (for such they esteem themselves) who are to
judge the world, have no better portion in their own
inheritance. The Poet therefore now leaves those more
profligate cornplainers, and turns [from 1. 128 to 147] to
the religion^ in these words :
But still this world (so fitted for the knave)
Contents us not. A better shall we have ?
A kingdom of the just then let it be,
Eut first consider how those just agree.
As the more impious cornplainers wanted external
goods to be the reward of virtue for the moral man ; so
these want them for the pious, in order to have a kingdom
of the just. To this the Poet holds it sufficient to answer.:
Pray, gentlemen, first agree amongst yourselves, who
those just are. We allow,
The good must merit God s peculiar care,
But who but God can tell us who they are?
One thinks on Calvin Heaven s own Spirit fell.
Another deems him instrument of hell :
If Calrin feels Heaven s blessing or its rod,
This cries, There is, and that, There is no God.
As this is the case, he even bids them rest satisfied;
remember his fundamental principle, That whatever is,
is rivht ; and content themselves (as their religion teaches
them to profess a more than ordinary submission to the
ways of Providence) with that common answer which he
with so much reason and piety gives to every kind of
complainer.
However,
MR, POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 125
However, though there be yet no kingdon of the ju$t,
there is still no kingdom of the unjust. That both the-
mrtuom and the vicious, whatsoever becomes of those
whom every sect calls the jaitkfitl, have their shares in
external goods ; and, what is more, the virtuous Lav
infinitely the most enjoyment in them :
This w^orldj tis true,
Was made for Casar, but for Titus too :
And which more blest ? who chained his country, say r
Or he whose virtue sigh d to lose a day ?
I have been the more careful to explain this last argu
ment, and to shew against whom it is, directed, because
much depends upon it for the illustration of the sense;
and the just defence of the Poet. For if we suppose him
still addressing himself to those impious complainers,
confuted in the thirty-eight preceding lines, we should
make him guilty of a paralogism in the argument about
the just, and in the illustration of it by the case of Calvin,
For then the libertines ask, Why the just, that is, the
moral man, is not rewarded ? The answer is, That none
bat God can tell who the just, that is, the truly. faithful
man, is. Where the term is changed, in order to sup
port the argument j for about the truly moral man there
is no dispute ; about the truly faithful, or the orthodox,
a great deal. But take the Poet right, as arguing here
against religious complainers, and the reasoning is strict
and logical. They ask, Why the truly faithful are not
rewarded ? lie answers, They may be for aught you know,
for none but God can tell who they are. Mr. De Crou-
sax s objections to this reasoning receive all their force
from that wrong supposition, That the Poet was here
arguing against libertine complainers ; and consequently
they have no force at all.
III. The Poet haying dispatched these two species of
complainers, comes now to the third and still more
pardonable sort, the discontented good men, who lament
only, that virtue starves, while vice riots. To these the
Poet replies [from 1. 146 to 1,5.5] that admit this to be
the case, yet they have no reason to complain, either of
the good man s lot in particular, or of the dispensation of
Providence in general Not of the former^ because
happiness*
126 A COMMENTARY ON
happiness, the reward of virtue, consists not in externals ;
nor of the latter, because ill men may gain wealth by
commendable industry, good men want necessaries through
indolence or bad conduct.
But as modest as this complaint seems at first view r ,
the Poet next shews [from 1. 1 54 to 1 65] that it is founded
on a principle of the highest extravagance, which will
never let the discontented good man rest, till he becomes
as vain and foolish in his imaginations as the very worst
sort of complainers. For that when once he begins to
think he wants what is his due, he will never know where
to stop, while God has any tiling to give.
But this is not all ; he proves next [from 1. i ^4 to i 7.5]
that these demands are not only unreasonable, but in the
highest degree ahxiird like vise. For that those very
goods, if granted, would be the destruction of that virtue
for which they are demanded as a reward. He concludes
therefore on the whole, that,
What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy,
The soul s calm sunshine, arid the heart-felt joy,
Is Virtue s prize.
But the Poet now enters more at large upon the
matter : and still continuing his discourse to this third
sort of complainers (whom he indulges as much more
pardonable than the first or second, in rectifying all their
doubts and mistakes) proves both from reason and exam
ple, how unable any of those things are, which the world
most admires, to make a good man happy. For, as to
the philosophic mistakes concerning happiness, there
behi little danger of their making a general impression,
the Poet, after a short confutation, had dismissed them
altogether. But external goods are those syrens, which
so bewitch the world with dreams of happiness, that of
al things the most difficult is, to awaken it out of its
delusions; though, as he proves, in an exact review of
the most pretending, they dishonour bad men, and add
no lustre to the good. That it is only this third and least
criminal sort of complainers, against which the remaining
part of the discourse is levelled, appears from the Poet s
so frequently addressing himself, while he inforces his
arguments in behalf of Providence, from henceforward
to his friend,
I. He
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 127
I. He begins therefore [from line 17410 195] with
considering RICHES, i. He examines, first, what there
is of rail value in them, and shews, they ean give Use
good man only that very contentment he had before, or,
at most, but burthen him with a trust to be dispensed for
the benefit of others:
For riches, can they give but to the just
His own contentment, or another s trust ?
Since the good man esteems all, beside what is sufficient
to supply him with the convenicncies of life, as en
trusted to him by Providence, for the supplial of others
necessities.
It is true, he tells us elsewhere, that another sort of
good men are of a different opinion :
The grave Sir Gilbert holds it for a rule,
That every man in want is kncrce or fool:
God cannot love (says "Blunt, with lifted eyes)
The wretch he starves and piously denies.
Of the Use of Riches, I 103.
And these are they to whom he here alludes, where.
lie says,
O fool ! to think God hates the worthy mind,
The lover, and the love, of human kind,
Whose life is healthful, and whose conscience clear,
Because he wants a thousand pounds a year !
The Poet next examines the imaginary value of riches,
as the fountain of honour. For his adversaries objection
stands thus : As honour is the genuine claim of virtue,
and shame the just retribution of vice ; and as honour 9
in their opinion, follows riches, and shame poverty ; there
fore the good man should be rich. He tells them in this
they are much mistaken :
Honour and shame from no condition rise;
Act well your part, there all the honour lies.
What power then has fortune over the Man? None at
all. For, as her favours can confer neither worth nor
wisdom-, so neither can her displeasure, cure him of any
of his follies. On his garb indeed she has some little
influence ; but his heart still remains the same :
Fortune in Men has some small difference made,
Qneflauntrin rags, one flutters in brocade.
II. Thea,
128 A COMMENTARY ON
II. Then, as to NOBILITY, by creation or birth, this
too he shews [from 1. 195 to 207] is, in itself, as devoid
of all real worth as the rest : because, in the Jirst case
the title is generally gained by no merit at all :
Stuck o er with titles, and hung round with strings,
That tliou may st be by kings, or whores of kings.
In the second, by the merit of the first founder of the
family, which will always, when reflected on, be rather
the subject of mortification than glory :
Go ! if your ancient, but ignoble, blood
Has crept through scoundrels ever since the flood,
Go! and pretend your family is young;
Nor oun your fathers have been fools so long.
III. The Poet in the next place [from 1. 206 to 227]
unmasks the false pretences of GREATNESS, whereby it
is seen that the hero and politician (the two characters
which would monopolize that quality) after all their
bustle, effect only this, if they want virtue, that the one
proves himself a fool, and the other a knave: and virtue
they but too generally leant. The art oj heroism being
understood to consist in ravage and desolation : and the
art of politics, in circumvention. Now
Grant that those can conquer, these can cheat,
Tis phrase absurd to call a villain, great :
Who wickedly is wise, or madly brave,
Is but the more afoot, the more a knave.
It is not success therefore that constitutes true great
ness , but the end aimed at-, and the means which are
employed: and if these be right, glory will be the reward,
whatever be the issue:
Who noble ends by noble means obtains,
Or failing, smiles in exile or in chains,
Like good Aurdius let him reign, or bleed
Like Socrates, that man is great indeed.
IV. With regard to FAME, that still more fantastic
blessing, he shews [from 1. 226 to 249] that all of it,
besides what we hear ourselves, is merely nothing; and
that even of this small portion, no more of it gives the
possessor a real satisfaction, than what is the fruit of
virtue.
All
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 129
All fame is foreign, but of true desert,
Plays round the head, but comes not near the heart.
Thus he shews, that honour, nobility, greatness, glory,
so far as they have any thing real and substantial, that
is,- so far as they contribute to the happiness of the
possessor, are the sole issue of virtue, and that neither
riches, courts, armies, nor the populace, are capable of
conferring them.
V. But lastly, the Poet proves [from 1. 248 to 259]
that as no external goods can make Man happy, so
neither is it in the power of all internal. For, that even
SUPERIOR PARTS bring no more real happiness to the
possessor, than the rest, nay, put him into a worse con
dition ; for that the quickness of apprehension, and depth
of penetration, do but sharpen the miseries of life :
In parts superior, what advantage lies?
Tell (for you can) what is it to be wise ?
*Tis but to know how little can be known;
To see all others faults, and feel our own, c.
Painful pre-eminence ! yourself to view
Above life s weakness, and its COMFORTS too.
This to his friend nor does it at all contradict what he
had said to him concerning happiness, in the beginning
of the Epistle:
"Tis never to be bought, but always free,
And, fled from monarchs, St. John! dwells withthee.
For he is now proving that nothing either external to
Man, or what is not in his own power, and of his own
acquirement, can make him happy here. The most
plausible rival of virtue is knowledge. Yet even this, he
says, is so far from giving any degree of real happiness,
that it deprives men of those common comforts of life,
which are a kind of support to us under the want of
happiness: such as the more innocent of those delusions
which he speaks of in the second Epistle, where he
ys,^
Till then, opinion gilds with varying rays
Those painted clouds, that beautify our days, $c.
1. 265.
VOL. XL K Now
130 A COMMENTARY ON
Now knowledge (as is here said) destroys all those
comforts, by setting Man above life s weaknesses : so that
in him, who thinks to attain happiness by knowledge, the
fable is reversed, and in a preposterous attempt to gain
the substance, he loses even the shadow. This I take to
be the true sense of this fine stroke of satire, on the
wrong pursuits after happiness.
Having thus proved how empty and unsatisfactory all
these greatest external goods are, from an examination of
their nature, the Poet proceeds to strengthen his argu
ment [from L 258 to 299] by these two farther con
siderations,
1st, That the acquirement of these goods is made
with the loss of one another ; or of greater, either as
inconsistent with them, or as spent in attaining them :
How much of other each is sure to cost;
How each for other oft is wholly lost ;
How inconsistent greater goods with these;
How sometimes life is risk d, and always ease.
2dly, That the possessors of each of these goods are
generally such as are so far from raising envy iu a good
man, that he would refuse to take their persons, though
accompanied with their possessions. And this the Poet
illustrates by examples :
Think, and if still the things thy envy call,
Say, would st thou be the man to whom they fall? <^
3dly, Nay, that even the possession of them all
together, where they have excluded virtue, only terminates
in more enormous misery :
If all, united, thy ambition call,
From ancient story learn to scorn them all
There, in the rich, the honour d } famd, and great ?
See the false scale of happiness complete !
Mark by what wretched steps their giory grows,
From dirt and sea-weed, as proud Venice rose, <r.
Having thus at length shewn, that happiness consist*
neither in any external goods, nor in all kinds of internal^
that is, such of them as are not of our own acquirement,
he
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 131
he concludes [from 1. 298 to 301] that it is to be found in
VIRTUE ALONE:
Know then this truth (enough for Man to know)
Virtue alone is happiness below.
Which the Translator turns thus :
Appren done qu il n est point icy bas de bonheur
Si la vertu ne regie et F esprit, et le cceur.
i. e. Learn therefore that there is no happiness here
below, if virtue does not regulate the heart and the
understanding, which destroys the whole force of the
Poet s conclusion. He had proved, that happiness con
sists neither in external goods, as the vulgar imagined,
nor yet in the visionary pursuits of the philosophers : he
therefore concludes that it consists in VIRTUE ALONE.
His Translator says, without virtue there can be no
happiness. And so say the men against whom the Poet
is here arguing. For though they supposed external
goods requisite to happiness, yet it was, when enjoyed
according to the rules of virtue. Mr. Pope says,
Virtue ALONE is happiness below,
and so ought his Translator to have said after him.
Hitherto the Poet had proved, NEGATIVELY, that
happiness consists in virtue, by shewing it consisted not
in any other thing. He now [from 1. 300 to 317] proves
the same POSITIVELY, by an enumeration of its qualities,
all naturally adapted to give, and to increase human
happiness : as its constancy, capacity, vigour, efficacy,
activity, moderation, and self-sufficiency :
The only point where human bliss stands still,
And tastes the good, without the fall to ill ;
Without satiety, though e er so bless d,
And but more relish a, as the more distressed :
Good, from each object, from each place acquir d,
For ever exercis d, yet never tir d ;
Never elated, while one man s oppressed ;
Never dejected, while another s bless d ;
And where no wants, no wishes can remain,
Since ; but to wish more virtue, is to gain.
& 3 Having
i 3 2 A COMMENTARY ON
Having thus proved that happuiess is indeed placed in
virtue, he proves next [from 1. 316 to 319] that it is
RIGHTLY placed there : For, that then, and then only,
ALL may partake of it, and ALL be capable of relish
ing it:
See the sole bliss Heaven could on ALL bestow,
Which who but feels can taste, but thinks can know.
The Poet then observes, with some indignation, [from
1. 318 to 331] that as easy and as evident as this truth
was, yet riches and false philosophy had so blinded the
perception, even of improved minds, that the possessors
of the first placed happiness in externals unsuitable to
Man s nature ; and the followers of the latter in refined
visions, unsuitable to his situation: while the simple-
minded man, with NATURE only for his guide, found
plainly in what it should be placed :
Yet poor with fortum, and with learning Mind,
The bad must miss, the good untaught will find ;
Slave to no sect, who takes no private road,
Bat looks thro Nature np to Natures God.
Pursues that chain, which links th immense design.
Joins heaven and earth, and mortal and divine.
Sees that no Being any bliss can. know,
But touches some above, and some below ;
Learns, from this union of the rising tc/iv/i\
The first last purpose of the human soul ;
And knows where faith, law, morals, all began,
All end, in LOVE OF GOD, and LOVE OF MAX.
To this Mr, DC Crousaz, " I made my remarks as
* l I went along, hi reading the Poem of Mr. Du Remcl ,
" and, m proportion as I advanced in it. I have had the
" most agreeable satisfaction to find, that my Commen-
" taries have teen too hasty and immature on this
" Poem; in so clear a light has the illustrious Abbe
" placed those truths, which the prose Translator had
" delivered with much less precbeness. In this trans-
" laiioii I evidently meet with the sacred terms Q$ faith >
" hope, and charity; but I don t know where he had
2 " them.
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN, 133
" them. And it is not easy for me to find, how the ideas
" which I have been accustomed to fix to them can agree
" with them. J am puzzled to know what they have to
" do here *."
This, to use our Critic s own words, is a specimen
of that Galimatias, which runs through his whole Com
mentary. He suspects, he approves, he doubts, he
applauds ; but it all ends in calumny and condemnation.
Here you have an old veteran Controversialist of seventy-
five, who gives the world his second thoughts (for he had
published his Examen before he wrote his Commentary)
telling us that he scribbled at random, and made the
greatest part of his remarks before he had read over the
book he wrote against : a book that contains a regular,
well-digested system, whose parts, having a mutual de-
pendance, necessarily support and illustrate one another.
But if a man would make so free with himself as to tell
this strange story to the world, which certainly he had
a right to do, he should, as his moral character was
concerned, have made satisfaction for his folly, by
striking out all those odious imputations with which the
foregoing part of his Commentary abounds. Instead of
this, he was not only content to leave the calumnies of
fatalism and Spinoztsm unretracted ; but has thought
fit to renew them, even after this confession of his hasty,
immature way of writing. Ah ! misera mens hominis,
quo tefatttm saepissime trahit! What but this could
have forced him to write a whole book in contradiction to
the very principle he himself lays down to proceed by f
An over-scrupulous exactitude (says he) w&yld fatrt the
very end of poetry* But we m&st make it & tm? to
interpret one expression %/ another,, for fear of attri-*
fritting notions to a Poet that would be injurious to tewf.
But to return : This is riot all ; the Poet shews farther
[from 1. 330 to 343] that, when the simple-minded naani
on his first setting out in the pursuit of truth, in order t
happiness, has had the wisddm
To look thro Nature up to Natures Getd %
instead of adhering to any sect or party, where there was
* Commentaire, p. 33^, f Hid. p. i6
V *
134 A COMMENTARY ON
so great odds of his chusing wrong ; that then the benefit
of gaining the knowledge of God s will written in the
mind is not there confined; for that standing on this
sure foundation, he is now no longer in danger of chusing
wrong, amidst such diversities of religions ; but by pur
suing this grand scheme of universal benevolence, in
practice, as well as theory, he arrives at length to the
/enow/edge of the revealed will of God, which is the
consummation of the system of benevolence :
For him alone hope leads from goal to goal,
And opens still, and opens on his soul,
Till lengthen d on to FAITH, and unconfin d,
It pours the bliss, that fills up all the mind.
But let us once more hear Mr. De Crousaz: " We
<c are brought (says he) at length to the truths qfRevela-
" tion. See Man once again re-established in his rights,
" raised as far above brutes as Heaven is above the earth.
" How infinite a difference between what one reads in
" this fourth Epistle, and what the Poet ventured to
<c propose in the Jirst, and in part of the two following !
" There, corrupt minds thought they read their own
" sentiments ; and even this, which we find here, is in-
" sufficient to bring them back again from their pre-
" ventions *."
That the three Jirst Epistles have nothing contrary to
the fourth, we have not only sufficiently evinced, but
shewn likewise, that die doctrine of this last, so much
approved by Mr. De Crousaz, is the necessary conse
quence of that laid down in every one of the preceding,
so much condemned by him. But, that corrupt minds
thought they read their own sentiments there, nay, that
it will be hard to bring them back again from their pre
ventions, I can easily conceive ; because, not only par
tiality to men s own opinions, but pi ejudice against the
opinions of others, may make them fancy they see doc
trines in a celebrated writer, which are indeed not there.
And then, self-love on the one hand, and self-conceit on
Commentaire, p. 332, 333.
the
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 135
the other, may easily keep both in their several delusions,
against all the power of conviction.
To proceed : the Poet, in the last place, marks out
[from 1. 342 to 363] the progress of his good mans
benevolence, pushed through natural religion to reve&kd,
till it arrives to that height, which the sacred writers
describe as the very summit of Christian perfection : and
shews how the progress of kmnan differs irotn the pro
gress of divine benevolence. That the dhene deseeiads
from whole to parts; but that the kvmcw mast rise
from individual to universal, And with this- rapturous
description the subject of the Epistle closes :
Self-love thus push d to social, to divine,
Gives thee to make thy neighbour s blessing thine :
Is this too litfle for the boundless heart?
Extend k, let thy enemies have part.
Grasp the whole worlds of reason, life, and sease,
In one close system of benevolence.
Happier, as kinder \ in whatever degree,
AND HEIGHT OF BUSS, BUT HEIGHT OF CHAB1TY.
God loves from whole to parts ; but human soul
Must rise from individual to the whole.
Self-l&ve but serves the virtuous mind to wake,
As the small pebble stirs the peaceful lake ;
The centre mov d, a circle straight succeeds,
Another still, and still another spreads, fyc*
The last part of the observation is important. Roche-
) E$prit % and their wordy disciple MawteviHe* h&d
observed, that setf-lovc was the origin of all those virtues
mankind most admire; and therefore foolishly supposed
it was the end likewise : and so,, taught that the highest
pretences to disinterestedness were only the more artful
disguises of setf-tove* But Mr Pofe> who says> souses
where or other,
Of human nature wit its worst iay write>
We all revere it in our own despite^
saw, as well as they, and every body else, that the passion
began in $elj-lwe; yet he understood humsua mature
x 4 better
136 A COMMENTARY ON
better than to imagine they terminated there. He knew
that reason and religion could convert selfishness into its
very opposite ; and therefore teaches that
Self-love but serves the virtuous mind to wake,
and thus hath vindicated the dignity of human nature,
and the philosophic truth of the Christian doctrine.
But let us turn once more to Mr. De Crousaz, who,
constant to himself, concludes, ia the same even tenor in
which he first set out. " A Man (says he) must use
" some efforts to go even so far as to love his enemies.
" But as to what concerns all parts of the universe, and
" all the living beings that inhabit it, as well those we
" see not, as those we do see, w r e find nothing in our-
" selves repugnant indeed to the giving them our love;
" but then, on the other hand, we do not feel any motions
" towards the rendering it to them. And while so great
" a number of objects, with which we are closely sur-
" rounded, demand our attention and concern, it appears
" not only superfluous but even irrational, to tease our-
" selves with I cannot tell w r hat kind of tenderness, for
" the inhabitants of Jupiter* " fyc.
This presents him with a pleasant idea, and he pursues
it with his usual grace and vivacity.
After this one would scarce think that in the very next
words he should confute himself, answer his own objec
tions, and vindicate the very charity he had ridiculed.
And yet this he now does, as much without fear, as the
other was without wit. " I own (says he) that a soul
" devoted to its Creator, and struck and raised with
" admiration at the attentive view of his mere corporeal
" creation, would be ready to lend those Beings his voice
" and sentiments, in order to join with them in an offering
" of praise and thanksgiving to their common Creator,
* e whose glory they so magnificently declare, though with-
" out any knowledge of the truth which they proclaim.
" Nay, I go farther, and say, that a soul so sanctified,
" and at the same time well assured, that there are
" innumerable choirs of happy intelligences, who con-
* Commentaire, p. 336.
" tinually
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 137
" tinually adore their Creator in ecstatic raptures, far
" surpassing our conceptions, will congratulate with
" them on their glory * and felicity." Here we see
described, and, to say the truth, not ill, that very state
of mind which produced the raptures of our admirable
Poet :
Grasp the whole worlds of reason, life, and sense,
In one close system of benevolence.
Happier, as kinder ! in whatever degree,
And height of bliss but height of charity.
No, says our Critic, who would still keep on foot the
censure he himself has overthrown ; the elevations I
speak of, are not elevations of chanty for those glorious
intelligences. We are the objects of their charity, not
they of ours"\. Egregious philosopher! By charity,
Mr. Pope not only means benevolence, but expressly calls
it so. And benevolence surely may be as well exercised
towards superiors, as by them.
But he proceeds " This pretended chimerical affec-
" tion can have no foundation but in the chimerical
" system of a whole, of which we make a part, and of
" which all the parts without exception are so dependent
" on each other, that, if any one only be displaced, or
" never so little deviating from its proper function, that
" disorder will affect the rest, and spread itself over the
" whole : and, by consequence, extend to us, who make
" an essential part of that w ? hole. Self-love therefore,
" interests itself in every thing that exists and moves."
Self-love was never sent on such an errand, no not by
Rochefocault or Esprit, though they forced it to do all
their drudgery. Here, a man who never yet once rightly
understood what his adversary did say, w ill now pretend
to guess at his reasons for saying. One might have fore
seen with what success. But something he has taught
us, and that is, to rest content with the Poet s own rea
soning. His argument then for this extended benevolence
is, that as God has made a whole, whose parts have a
perfect relation to, and an entire dependency on each
* Commentaire, p. 337, 338. t Ibid. p. 338.
other,
538 A COMMENTARY ON
other, Man, irt extending bis benevolence throughout that
whole? acts in conformity to tlie will of his Creator ; and
therefore, this enlargement of his affection hecosnes a
duty.
But the Poet hath not only shewn his piety ir* this
freccpt, but the utmost art and address likewise in the
disposition of it. r l he Essay on Man opens with exposing
Idle ynurmuriflgs, and impious conclusions of foolish mem
against the present constitution of things: As it pro
ceeds, it occasionally detects all those false principles and
pinions that ted them to conclude thus perversely.
Having now done all that was necessary in speculation^
the Poet turns to practice ; and ends his Essay with the
recommendation of an acknowledged virtue, charity^
which, if exercised in the extent that conformity to the
will of God requires, would effectually prevent all com
plaints- against the present order of things: such cona-
plaints being made with a total disregard to every thing,
l>*it their own private system ; and seeking remedy in
the disorder, and at the expence of all the rest
The art and contrivance, we see, is truly admirable,
But Mr. De Crousaz pursues his own ideas. For to>
ftnow Mr. Pope s, seems to have been his least concern
throughout his whole Commentary. " This system
** [namely, of a whole} will carry us to a great length*
" Miracles^ which deviate from the ordinary course of
** nature, must pass from henceforward as idle fable."
[Observe his reason] " It was impossible that any kind
" of thing which has happened, should not have hap-
* pened, or not have happened in the manner it hath *."
As to Mr. Pope s fatalism, we have said enough of that
matter already. But now, if, for disputation s sake, we
admit what, for truth s sake, we must reject, according
to my notions of logic, this conclusion would follow, that
therefore miracles could not but have been; not Mr.
Crousazs, that therefore they never could be* Miracles
are proved, like other matters of fact, by human testi*
nwny: if that says, iron at one time swam, at other
times sunk, and we suppose things ordered fatally ; these
two events were equally necessary : so that, to make out
* Commcntaire, p. 339.
his
MR. POPE S SSAY ON MAN. 139
his conclusion, he must be forced to add downright
atheism to his fate.
Mr. De Crousaz has HOW pushed matters to a decent
length. He has said, the Poet s extent of charity was
irrational the system on which it was founded chime
rical that it ended in fate and overthrew all miracles.
One would imagine this should have satisfied the most
orthodox resentment. But there wanted something to
make a right polemical climax. To crown the whole,
therefore, he tells us, that, " According to the Poet, the
" universe would not have been a work sufficiently worthy
" of God, had there not been atheists, superstitious,
" persecutors, tyrants, idolaters, assassins, and poi-
"soners*." What I can find in the Essay coming
nearest to this, is, That those mischiefs do not deform
God s creation; because the divine art is incessantly
producing good out of evil : and that as this universe is
the best of all those in God s idea, therefore, whatever
is, is right, with respect to that universe : either as tend
ing, in its own nature., to the perfection of it, or made so
to tend by infinite Wisdom, contrary to its nature. The
true consequence drawn from all this, is, That an uni
verse with atheists, superstitious, &c. is sufficiently
worthy of God. How that can infer this other, That
the universe would not have been a work sufficiently
worthy oj God, had there not been atheists, superstitious,
&c. I leave Mr. De Crousaz to draw out by his own
logic, or, which seems the more ductile of the two, his
own conscience.
The Poet s address to his friend, which follows, and
closes this Epistle, comes not within the design of these
observations ; which are only to explain the philosophy
and reasoning of the Essay on Man. Otherwise, this
single apostrophe would furnish a critic with examples of
every one of those Jvce species of elocution, from which,
as from its sources, Longinus deduceth the SUBLIME j~.
* Commentaire, p. 340.
\ taiv\t wyati TJVE? tiffw T trfafopimf, 1. Tlgarav pit/
Taj vojja tt? <x0jpE9r)joXoy. *2. AtvTf^ov ot to &(poopov t
$. Ilota TVV vxpiuiruv tshatru;. 4. *H yiviotToe, fomfftf. 5.
ama, ^ o-yyxTieftfcra ra ro SOWTW awavla, ^ Iv ci%nup.aAt xj
i. The
140 A COMMENTARY ON
1. The first and chief is a grandeur and sublimity &f
concept ioir:
Come then, ray friend ! my genius ! come along,
O master of the Poet, and the song !
And while the Muse now stoops, and now ascends,,
To Man s low passions, or their glorious ends
2. The second, that pathetic enthusiasm, which at the
same time mdts and enjlames :
Teach me, like thee, in various nature wise,
To fall with dignity, with temper rise ;
FornVd by thy converse, happily to steer
From grave to gay, from lively to severe ;
Correct with spirit, eloquent with ease,
Intent to reason, or polite to please.
5. A certain elegant formation and ordonance of
figures :
O f while along the stream of time, thy name
Expanded flies, and gathers all its fame,
Say, shall my little bark attendant sail.
Pursue the triumph, and partake the gale ?
4. A splendid diction :
When statesmen, heroes, kings, in dust repose,
Whose sons shall blush their fathers were thy foes,.
Shall then this verse to future age pretend
Thou wert my guide, philosopher, and friend ?
That, urg d by thee, I turn d the tuneful art
From sounds to things, from fancy to the heart ;
For wit s falsje mirror held up Nature s light
And fifthly, which includes in itself all the rest, a
weight and dignity in the composition :
Shew d erring Pride, whatever &, is RIGHT;
That REASON, PASSION, answer one great AIM;
That true SELF-LOVE and SOCIAL are the SAME;
That VITRUE only makes our BLISS below;
And all our knowledge is, OURSELVES TO KNOW.
But this, as we say, is not our province at present. I
shall therefore content myself with an observation, which
this sublime recapitulation of the general argument, in
the
MR. PQPFS ESSAY ON MAN. 141
the last lines, affords me to conclude with. Which is, of
one great beauty that shines through the whole Essay.
It is this, that the Poet, whether he speaks of Man as am
individual, a member of society* or the subject of happi
ness, never misseth an opportunity, while he is explaining
his state under any of these capacities, to illustrate it, in
the most artful manner, by the inforcement of his grand
principle, That every thing tends to the good of tkt
whole. From whence his system receives the reciprocal
advantage of having that grand theorem realized by fact^
and hisjacts justified on & principle of right or nature.
Thus have I endeavoured to analyse and explain the
noble reasoning of these four Epistles. Enough, I pre
sume, to convince our Critic s friends that it hath ,a
precision, force, and closeness of connexion, rarely to be
met with, even in the most formal treatises of philosophy-
Yet in doing this, it is but too evident I have destroyed
that grace and energy which animates the original Sa
right was Mr. Pope s prediction of the event of such am
undertaking, where lie says, in his preface, that, he &m
unable to treat this part of his subject more in detail,
without becoming dry t and tedious. And now let the
Reader believe, if he be so disposed, what our great
Logician insinuates to be his own sentiments, as well as
those of iiis friends : " That certain persons have con
jectured that Mr. Pope did not compose this Essay at
" once, and in a regular order ; but that after he had
" wrote several fragments of Poetry, all finished in their
" kind; one, for example, on the Parallel between Reason-
" and Instinct i another, upon Man s groundless Pride;
" another, on the Prerogatives of HumanNature; another,
" on Religion and Superstition , another, on the Original
" of Society; and several fragments besides, on Selj-lovt
" and the Passions; he tacked these together as he could,
" and divided them into four Epistles, as, it is said, was
^ the fortune of Homers Rhapsodies*" Yes, I believe
full as much of Mr. Popes Rhapsodies, as I do of Homers
But if this be the case, that the leaves of these two great
Poets were wrote at random, tossed about, and after
wards put in order, like the Cum&an Sibyls ; then, what
* Commentaire, p. 34^.
we
J42 A COMMENTARY ON
we have till now thought an old lying bravado of
the Poets, that they wrote by inspiration, will become a
sober truth. For, if chance could not produce them,
and human design had no hand in them, what must we
conclude, but that they are, what they are so commonly
called, divine?
However, so honourable an account of rhapsody writ
ing should by all means be encouraged, as matter of
consolation to certain modern writers in divinity and
politics. But the mischief is, our Logician has given us
an unlucky proof in his own case, that all Rhapsodists are
not so happy.
To be serious : As to Homer, one Anight hope, by
this time, those old exploded fooleries about his rhapso
dies would be forgotten. But as to his Translator, it
must be owned, he has given cause enough of disgust to
our philosophers and men of reason. Till this time,
every Poet, good or bad, stuck fairly to his profession :
But Mr. Pope, now the last of the poetic line amongst
us, on whom the large patrimony of his whole race is
devolved, seems desirous, as is natural in such cases, to
ally himself to a more lasting family ; and so, after hav
ing disported himself at will, in the flowery paths of
fancy, and revelled in all the favours of the Muses, boasts
of having taken up in time, and courted and espoused
truth :
That not in fancy s maze he wander d long,
But stoop d to truth, and moraliz d his song.
But now, in what light, must ve think, will the graver
Christian reader regard the calumnies we have here con
futed ? How sad an idea will this give him of the present
spirit of Christian profession, that a work, wrote .solely to
recommend the charity that religion so strongly inforceth,
and breathing nothing but love to God, and universal
good- will to Man, should bring upon the Author such a
storm of uncharitable bitterness and calumny, and that,
from a pretended Advocate of Christianity ? A religion
the very vitality of which (if we may believe its propa
gators) is universal benevolence : For the end of the com
mandment is charity *. Conformably hereunto we may
* i Tim. i. 5,
observe,
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 143
observe, that in their Epistles to the Churches, whatever
the occasion was, whatever discipline they instituted,
whatever points of faith they explained, whatever heresies
they stigmatized^ whatever immoralities they condemned,
or whatever virtues they recommended, CHARITY was
still the thing most constantly enforced, as the very end
of all, the bond of perfectness *. The beloved disciple of
our Lord, particularly, who may surely be supposed to
know iiis Master s will, hath wrote his Epistle on set
purpose to recommend this single virtue ; at a crisis too,
when, as heresies were springing up apace, a modern
controversialist would be apt to think he might have
employed his time better. And why (it may be reason
ably asked) so very much on charity, in an age when
Christians had so few provocations or temptations to vio
late it ? For their faith being yet chaste from the prostitu
tions of the schools, and their hierarchy yet uncorrupted
by the gifts of Const ant mt, the Church knew neither
bigotry \wrambition, the two fatal sources of uncharitable
zeal. I will tell you, it was the providence of their pro
phetic spirit, wliich presented to them the image of those
miserable tiaaes foretold by their Master, when iniquity
should abound, and the love of many wax cold f. So that
if the men of those times should persist in violating this
bond of perfectness, after so many repeated admonitions,
they might be found altogether withour excuse. For I
can by no means enter into the views of that profound
philosopher, who discovered that Jesus and his followers
might preach up love and charity, the better to enable a
set of men, some centuries afterwards, to tyrannise over
those whom the engaging sounds of charity and brotherly
love had intrapped into subjection J.
I am aware that certain modem propagators of tlie
feith, aided with a school distinction, will tell you, that
it is pure charity which sets them all at work ; and that
what you call uncharitableness, when they insult the
feme, the fortune, or the person of their brother, is in
deed the very height of charity, a charity for his souL
This indeed may be the height of the hangman s charity,
* Col. iii. 14. f Matt, xxiv. 12.
I Characteristics, vol. i. p. 87. vol. iii. p. 115. Ed. 1737,
who
144 A COMMENTARY ON
who waits for your clothes : But it could never be
St. Paul s. His was not easily provoked, thought no
evil, bore all things, hoped all things, endured all things*.
It was a charity that began in candour, inspired good
opinion, and sought the temporal happiness of his brother.
I leave it with Mr. De Crousaz to think upon the dif
ferent effects which excess of zeal in the service of re
ligion hath produced in him. For I will, in very
charity, believe it to be really that ; notwithstanding we
every day see the most despicable tools of others impo-
tency, and the vilest slaves to their own ambition, hide
their corrupt passions under the self-same cover. This
learned gentleman should reflect on what the sober
part of the world will think of his conduct. For
though the Apostle bids AGED MEN BE SOUND IN
FAITH, he adds immediately, and IN CHARITY, IN
PATIENCE J" likewise. But where was his charity in
labouring, on the slightest grounds, to represent his
brother as propagating Spinozism and immorality? Where
was his temper, when he became so furious against him,
on the supposition of his espousing a system he had never
read, that of Leibnitz; and justifying a doctrine he had
never heard of , the pre-established hatwony? Where was
his patience, when, having conceived this of him, on the
mere authority of a most mistaken Translator, he would
not stay to inquire whether the Author owned the faith
fulness of the version ; but published his conceptions,
and the strongest accusations upon those conceptions, in
volume after volume, to the whole world ? W^here, if in
any of these imaginations so founded, he should be
mistaken, he became guilty of a deliberate and repeated
act of the highest injustice ; the attempting to deprive a
virtuous man of his honest reputation.
If Mr. De Crousaz presumes his zeal for the honour
of God will excuse his violations of charity towards men,
I must tell him, he knows not what spirit he is of. If a
man (says the beloved disciple of our Lord) say, I love
God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar : For he that
faveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love
* I Cor. xiii. 5. 7, t Titus ii, 2.
God
MR. POPE S ESSAY ON MAN. 145
God whom, he hath not seen*? A free-thinker may per
haps laugh at the simplicity of this argument, which yet
he would affect to admire, could any one find it for him
in Plato. But let him tor once condescend to be in
structed by his Bible, and hearken to a little Christian
reasoning.
" you say you love God (says the Apostle) though
" you hate your brother : Impossible ! The love of any
"object begins originally, like all the other passions,
" from self-love. Thus we love ourselves, by representa-
" tion, in our offspring ; which love extends by degrees
" to our remoter relations, and so on through our nei^h-
" bourhood, to all the fellow-members of our community.
" And now self-love, refined by reason and religion, be-
" gins to lose its nature, and deservedly assumes another
" name. Our country next claims our love ; we then
" extend it to all mankind, and never rest till we have,
" at length, fixed it on that most amiable of all objects,
" the great Author and Original of Being. This is the
" course and progress of human love :
God loves from whole to parts, but human soul
Must rise from individual to the whole.
" Now (pursues the Apostle) I reason thus : Can
" you, who are not yet arrived at that inferior stage of
" benevolence, the love of your brother, whom you have
" seen, that is, whom the necessities of civil life, and a
" sense of your mutual relation might teach you to love,
" pretend to have reached the very height and per-*
" fection of this passion, the love of God, whom you have
" not seen ? that is, whose wonderful oeconomy in his
" system of creation, which makes him so amiable, you
u cannot have the least conception of; you, who have
u not yet learnt that your own private system is supported
" on the great principle of benevolence ? Fear him,
"flatter him, Jight for him, as you dread his power,
you may ; but to love him, as you know not his nature,
" is impossible." This is the Apostle s grand and
sublime reasoning ; and it is with the same thought on
which the Apostle founds his argument, that our moral
* 1 John rv, 20,
Vo*. XI. L Poet
146 A COMMENTARY, &c.
Poet ends his Essay, as the just and necessary conclusion
of his work :
Self-love but serves the virtuous mind to wake,
As the small pebble stirs the peaceful lake;
Thfe centre mov d, a circle straight succeeds,
Another still, and still another spreads ;
Friend, parent, neighbour, first it will embrace,
His country next, and next, all human race ;
Wide, and more wide, th overflowings of the mind
Take every creature in, of every kind ;
Earth smiles around, with boundless bounty blest,
AND HEAVEN BEHOLDS ITS IMAGE IN HIS BREAST.
REMARKS
ON A BOOK ENTITLED
Future Rewards and Punishments believed by the Ancients,
particularly the Philosophers ;
Wherein some Objections of the Rev. Mr. WARBURTON, in his
Diviue Legation of Moses, are considered: 1742.
WITH
A POSTSCRIPT,
In answer to some Objections of DR. SYKES;
And A LETTER to Bishop SMALLBP.OOK.
Beware lest any man spoil you through PmtOiOPHY and vain deceit,
tfter the traditions of men, after the rudiments of the world, and not after
CUBIIT. Col. ii. 8.
ADVERTISEMENT
TO THE SECOND EDITION ;
1742.
THE AUTHOR of the Pamphlet here examined, hath
lately made a public confession of his authorship, signed
with hb own name ; and thereby saved himself from all
farther correction of this kind. For he who is so lost to
shame, as a WRITER, to own what he before wrote, and
so lost to shame, as a MAN, to own what lie hath now
written, must needs be past all amendment, the only rea
sonable view in correction. I shall therefore but do, what
indeed (were it any more than repeating what he
himself hath discovered to the Public) would be justly
reckoned the cruellest of all things, tell my reader the name
f fchis Miserable; which we find to be I. TILLARD.
t 49 I
REMARK
I;
THOUGH I could not persuade myself to lake this
notice of such a kind of Writer as iiiaa of the
Miscellany y yet a very little thing, the reader sees, will
engage me to give an adversary satisfaction ; wMle I
suffer myself to be seduced iato a controversy fey the
Writer of a late Book,. entitled. Future Rewards md
Punishments believed by the Ancients, particufariy ike
Philosophers ; wherein seme Objections oj ike Revermd
Mr. WarburtoOj m his: Divine Legation of Mas is, ^e
considered**
And a very little thing it was ; only the finding In his
book one single truth, which does me a piece of justke,,
that the orthodox? Writer above-mentioned would by na
means be brought unto, even after his ceawietibn of
calumny on that head. It is in these words; Bt&tltfn&t
here da m muck justice to Mr. Warburtoti,, ess t ttcfaaxm*
kdge y that the point he denie^ is> that ihe philosophers
twig did not believe future rewards and pwiukme*i$$i
whereas he allows all others did believe them, p. 4.
For the rest, neither his abilities nor his ctm&tnr de
served this notice. His abilities are duly celebrated in
these few sheets ; and for his wmdQwr, the Tedder wiil,
I believe > require no farther proof than the folkmkg :
After all these lively descript wm ij there am
doubt remain m the readers breast it mmt
the influence *xJpnpwttp&* ?/ & J ew vcmd!
siom now and then thr&wq out to, depreciate tfo
phers> by certain pers&m % whet* tfamkwg
obliged to say something out oj the common ra#4
frequently discover their IGNORANCE AND WANT OF
SENSE IN THE VERY ATTEMPT TO IMSIMAY
8vo. London, 1740^ PiiDted by M. Steea m t
1* 3 UA&KlgCt 5
150 REMARKS ON TILLARD.
LEARNING: But that SUCH PRETENDERS TO KNOW
LEDGE, SUCH EMPTY MIMICS OF REAL WORTH, MAY
NO LONGER IMPOSE upon persons of good understanding
~ I shall, 8$c. pp. 164, 165.
But though I shew this distinction to a puny truth half
overlaid, which I was forced to draw from under an un
wieldy heap of blunders and prevarications : yet, let it
be observed, that this is only for once, and out of due
regard to the first writer against rne, that has condescend
ed to say any thing truly of me : For I hope comrnorr
honesty is not so rare, even amongst Answerers by pro
fession (of all sober knaves the most corrupt) that this
tribute need be paid twice unto it.
My Considerer begins his preface thus : The motive
which principally induced me to publish thejollowing col
lection and observations, was the strange and unjustifiable
methods which some men take to advance their oivn
SYSTEMS by depreciating and running down those of
others, p. iii. The reader sees what the man would be
at. Here is no disguise or reserve, however. It is the old
infidel grudge against the intolerant spirit of Christianity,
delivered as crudely as ever his dear friends, the philo
sophers, urged it against the primitive apologists. Their
great quarrel to Christianity was, that its defenders en
deavoured to advance their own systems, by depreciating
and running down those of others * : And this, in their,
and in their advocates opinion, was a strange and un-
justijiable method. And how should he think otheruise ?
when he has so mean an opinion of the cause of Revela
tion, as to tell us presently after, That most of that vast
number of books that have been wrote to prove the ne
cessity and excellency of our holy religion, are thought
very mean and insufficient by the unprejudiced and in
quisitive adversary, but appear in a very different light
to the mob of Christians, who, by the happy prejudice
of education, have been brought up to doubt of nothing.
But hear him in his own more emphatic words. The vast
member of books and pamphlets which have of late years
been so plentifully poured out, to prove the necessity and
excellency of our holy religion, certainly deserve the
approbation and thanks of every zealous and truly devout
* See the Divine Lcgat. Book II. 6.
Christian :
REMARKS ON TILLARD, 151
Christian : And though many of these performances have
been THOUGHT BY THE ADVERSARY VERY MEAN AKB
INSUFFICIENT, yet they have appeared in a quite dij~
ferent light in the eyes of the bulk of mankind; WHO,
FROM THE HAPPY CAST OF THEIR NATIVITY, HAVE,
IN THEIR EARLIEST AGE, BEEN TAUGHT TO FORM A
31UCH BETTER JUDGMENT OF THINGS; ANI> WHO,
SELDOM HAVING ANY DOUBTS OR SCRUPLES TO DIS
TURB THEM, are therefore the easier confirmed in the
quiet and [full persuasion of these doctrines THEY AT FIRST
RECEIVED, pp. iii. iv.
Had I not reason to say as I did, " That the heathen
" philosophers of our times might be well excused in
;f being angry, to see their ancient brethren shewn for
" knaves in practice, and fools in theory ; but that any
" else should think themselves concerned in the force and
" fidelity of the drawing, was a mystery I did not know
" what to make of* ? "
It is therefore matter of much consolation to ine, to
find that the real friends of Revelation have at length left
these heathen philosophers (the men whom only it con
cerns) to dispute this point with me. I have now got a
gentleman freethinker under my haads ; and, if those
other folks will be but easy, 111 promise to give a good
account of him.
Our Consider er proceeds to shew the reasons why some
defenders of Christianity will not acknowledge the doc
trine contained in his book, lie graciously acquits them
of all malice and design, and throws it first,
i. Upon their ignorance. The first of which is the
ignorance, in this particular, of by far the greatest part
of them [defenders of Christianity] wh& realty do not
know that rewards and punishments in another life (tre
any where spoken of but in the New Testament, imkss it
be in some dark andfigurative terms, which (AS IF THERK
WERE NONE SUCH AMONGST THEMSELVES) tke$ tkmk
they have a right to laugh at and expose* They re
member, perhaps, some storks hi their se/fetil-lto&ks of
Elysium, of Tartarus, of Cerberus, <%T and
very hastily, that this was ail that was ever thcwgfet
of or believed by the Heathens concerning a
* Div. Leg. Book III. 5 4.
L 4
152 REMARKS ON TILLARD.
come . p. v. It was not for nothing, we find, that he despised
the defenders of Christianity as scribblers, whom none
but a prejudiced mob would give any credit to : For the
for greatest part of them, it seems, knew no more of
antiquity than a few stories in their school-books. But
who can enough admire the modesty of this, in one, who
confesses he has forgot hisGree&, and this only in order to
insinuate that he has some Latin which yet sticks by him?
2. lie throws it, Secondly, Upon their prejudices, that
is, their great attachment to their own religion. On this
head, he talks I don t know what of captivated lovers,
pious zeal, prejudice of education, interest, prejer-
ment; in short the common dog-trot of infidelity and
freethinking.
After this specimen of his modesty, he presents us with
one of his abilities. As to what relates (says he) to the
subject oj the following sheets, the case in fact is this.
It is indisputably true, and beyond all reasonable contra-
diction, that the doctrine ofjuture rewards and punish
ments is clearly and plainly delivered and laid down in the
A ew? Testament: And it is as indisputably true, and
beyond all reasonable contradiction, that the doctrine
ofjuture rewards and punishments is CLEARLY AND
PLAINLY DELIVERED AND LAID DOWN in the books
and writings of the Heathens. THE TRUTH OF WHICH
POINT is now submitted to the judgment of every im
partial reader, p. vii. This indisputable point, which
he writes a book to prove, is, I believe, strictly so. At
least it was never disputed by his humble servant. On
the contrary, I have said, the heathen philosophers
were perpetually inculcating to the people the doctrine
of a Juture state of rewards and punishments in their
discourses and writings*. But his title-page professes
to prove the truth ol a very different point, not quite so
indisputable. Future Rewards and Punishments BE
LIEVED by the Antients, particularly the Philosophers,
wherein some Objections of the Reverend Mr. W. in his
Divine Legation of MOSES are considered. Thus we see
this able writer has mistaken his question before he be
got to the end of his Preface. Dids me de contienda con
quien me enticnda, says the Spanish Proverb, God grant
9 Div. Leg. Book III. 2.
me
REMARKS ON TILLARD.
me an adversary that understands me. But, wretch
that I am, after having met with such an adversary, I
arn now forced to contend with one that does not under
stand himself.
His Pretace concludes thus : I thought once to have
changed the order in which the quotations of the second
chapter are placed. BUT METHOD IN SUCH CASES DE^
FENDING ALMOST AS MUCH UPON THE FANCY OF
EVERY READER AS THE REAL PROPRIETY OF THE
THING ITSELF, I chose rather to submit them as they
are, c. p. ix. By these his frank sentiments of method,
it appears lie has forgot his logic too, if ever he had any,
as well as his Greek, which, he tells us t he had neglected,
like Lord Chief Justice Hale, by a long advocation to
studies of quite another nature, p. viii. Whatever his
studies were, he can scarce persuade the reader to think
them like Lord Chief Just ice Holes. That learned man
indeed lost his Greek, but got a great deal of good seme.
Our Author too has lost his Greek* And what has he got?
tylarry, the knack of writing without any sense at all.
II. We come now to Knjirst chapter, the only one
that I am concerned in ; and therefore the only one I
shall, at present, give myself the trouble of considering.
As just before he had innocently blundered out of the
question ; so now by entering on his attendance on the
Author of The Divine Legation^ he has as innocently
blundered into it : And thus has set all right again.
After having frankly told the reader, that the Author
of The Divine Legation had not the direct and immediate
discovery of truth, and the REAL and SUBSTANTIAL
improvement of mankind [/. e. the recommendation of
Pagan Philosophy] in his thoughts and studies, but the
advancement of a certain favourite scheme [i. e. of Reve
lation] he goes on to quote the apologies I make for
venturing to deny a commonly received opinion. On
which he thus descants : By all which, and indeed his
whole manner of treating ^ this subject, he plainly dis
covers such a great, distrust of his arguments and con
clusions to convince the judgment of his reader, that,
&;c. pp. V 3. I am a very unlucky Writer. If I express
myself with confidence, I am supposed to distrust other
men s opinions ; if with diffidence, my own. But let him
rest
J54 REMARKS ON TILLARD.
jest himself content. I arn under no manner of dlffi-
cfence. Or, if I had any, his writing against me had
easily removed it. However, in this I shall never recri
minate. I confess 7 , he writes all the way as much without
fear as wit
/ shall (says our crafty Advocate) pass over his nice
distinctions, division*?, and subdivisions, p. 3. Now this,,
I cannot but think hard. He had before made his
exceptions to Greek, and I dare say he would think it
unfair to have it urged against him after he had so fairly
pleaded Ignoramus to it ; yet a critical use of that lan
guage is alone sufficient to determine a decisive question
in this controversy, namely, of ttte Spinozism of the
(indent philosophers : and here he debars me all benefit
of logic, and won t have patience while I state the
question, and divide the subject. I shall pass over (says
ne) his nice distinctions, division, and subdivisions. So
that because he knows neither Greek nor method, I shall"
use none. Here then I might fairly dismiss this minute
philosopher, who dares me to the combat, and yet except*
against all the weapons in use. But not to disappoint
the company we have brought together, I will accept his
challenge, and fight him with his own wooden dagger.
/ proceed (says he) directly to take notice of those
reasons which, IN MY APPREHENSION, any ways affect
the present question ; and these, I think, may be reduced
to two. ist, " That the philosophers held it lawful, for
" the public good, to say one thing^ when they thought
" another, and that they actually did so. 2dly, That
" they held some fundamental principles of philosophy ;
" which were altogether inconsistent with the doctrine of
"future rewards and punishments" pp. 3, 4. But surely,
if he will needs write against me, his business is not only
to consider what, in his apprehension, tends to the proof
of my point, but likewise what in my apprehension I had
said does so. For instance, in his apprehension, this argu
ment, That the philosophers held it lawful in general to
say one thing, when they thought another, and this, that
they actually did so, tends to the proof of my point. And,
in my apprehension, this other argument likewise, That
the philosophers acted on the above principle, with regard
to a future stale of rewards and punishments, the very
doctrine
REMARKS ON TILLARD. 155
doctrine in question, has, at least, as strong a tendency :
For which reason I had employed six large pages to
inforce it. But to all this rny adversary has thought fit
to say Nothing.
However, if he will needs confine the strength of my
discourse to those two points, I must be content, and
accept the best terms he can be brought to. Nor will
the reader perhaps think these bad ones. But, alas ! he
yet knows little of our advocate. Of a hundred argu
ments from reason and authority which support those
two points, he has not ventured so much as at a deci
mation ; and his attack of those few he shuffles off in so
evasive a manner, as would never get him victory in the,
schools, (p 3.) nor hardly credit at the bar. But what
would he not do, or what would he not forbear to do,
for his philosophers ? For if that set of modern heathens,
as he gravely tells us, ARE NOT FAR FROM THE KING
DOM OF GOD, who being really in good earnest in the
search of truth, have without prejudice considered, and
have calmly, seriously, and with the utmost diligence
examined into the obligation of the several religions, or
sects of religion, which now prevail in the world , and
after the maturest deliberation are satisfied there is
nothing extraordinary or immediately divine in any of
them ; but that, upon the whole, all which they contain
or pretend to (except what relates to our duty to Goa\
and our obligations to morality) is merely human inven
tion, and the product of design, of error, or of enthu
siasm, pp. 201, 202. If these be so near day, in what
a hopeful condition are those of the elder house, who
certainly cannot be said to have rejected the Gospel;
though so ready to give a diligent and dispassionate
examination to any thing that would afford room for a
dispute.
III. But w r e must take him as we find him, and be
thankful. The reader will say presently we have reason.
For he now proceeds to the confutation of the first point,
That the philosophers held it lawful, for public good, to
say one thing, when they thought another. And how
does he set about it? Truly in a very new way. By
PROVING it at large, from the fourth to the sixteenth
page:
REMARKS ON TILLARIX
page : which, he honestly, for the second time, concludes
thus: all which is, in effect^ no more than what Mr.
Warburton himself says. pp. 16^ 17. Why, no-; brat h
being able to say it so much better., had a mind to shew
Ihss parts. And now, according ta his own confession*
the philosophers holding it laicjul r for the public good>
to say one thing when they thought another ; and I having
proved, to which proof he has not opposed a single
syllable, that they practised this rule in the very point
m question, the dispute is fairly at an end. This will
eertainly surprise our less attentive readers: but they
jjBust know, all this good-natured pains was neither for
their sakes nor for mine, but for his dear philosophers.
The ease stood thus ; when I spoke of the double doctrine^
I considered the practice of it as not altogether free from
fclame. Not that this representation contributed to prove
ft practised in the point in question, but because I
thought the representation true. But my adversary^ as
we see, having taken it for granted^ that / had not the.
direct and immediate discovery of TRUTH in my thoughts
and studies^ had nothing left, but the first reason to assign
for my representation, which affecting the credit of his
ina&iters,, he will endeavour, as great an enemy as he is to
dvuismis and disthwtiom, to distinguish away this oppro
brium. He therefore divides the practice of the double
doctrine into two sorts. The oiae, a little criminal : th&
ether, quite free from blame. And to shew his- judgment,
in the first class he places priests aad politicians, and. in
the second, the Chinese Literati, who taught Atheism ia
private ; and Orpheus, who against his conscience, as ha
says, taught Polytheism in public, pp. 7 and 12 14*
But the class of innocents, you may be sure> was erected
chiefly for his dear philosophers, whose double doctrine he.
impiously compares to the practices of the ever blessed
Jesus, pp. 30 3Q. For which I remit him to the
&ppainted defenders of religion : who will, I hops, give
him- due correction for all his insults on their ignorance
and their school-books.
The mighty argument then he labours with, and for the
sake of which he has, before he was aware, given up the
whole cause, is this : " The philosophers practice of the
91 double doctrine was innocent and laudable : therefore
"it
REMARKS ON TILLARD.
* it could never be employed to preach up a future state
* of rewards and punishments in public, and to preach it
" down in private." This, I suppose, lie would have
said, had he known how to express his own meaning.
Let us see then what force it has upon his principles.
For, as much as he contends for the propagation of truth,
he is not likely to die a martyr to it; as you may hear
by his talking To disturb the public peace, to break the
laws, and fruitlessly to expose ourselves to manifest danger
for the sake of propagating our religion,, SEEMS TO
CARHY A CONTRADICTION IN ITSELF, Ottd Would llted
no confutation, if the mistaken principles and practice of
& few zealots did not inflame some people to think other*
wise, p, 43. It is no wonder this should raise his indig
nation. For had not Christ and his apostles been guilty
of the very misdemeanor that, he tells us, carries a con
tradiction in itself (which, whatever it means in bis
jargon, is .surely something very bad) we had never bad
the poor philosophers at this time of day so disgracefully
pushed beside the chair. But for this, I again send Mm
to be disciplined by the defenders aforesaid ; and go on
to try his argument on his own principle. The pkiioeo*
fhers, as lie confesses, used, for the public good, to my
om thing when they thought another. They saw that
the doctrine of a future state of rewards and punishments
was firmly believed by the people, and of infinite service
to society. But their speculative opinions led them to
reject it. What was to -be done ? Telling what they
thought the truth would be injurious, on the supposition,
both to society and themselves. And (as he assures us)
fruitlessly to expose ones self to manifest danger for the
sake of propagating ones religion, seems to carry a con
tradiction in itself. Here then their principle of saying
one thing when they thought another, came in practice,
nothing being left, but to profess in public, and believe in
private. But he will say, perhaps, that sincere impartial
inquirers after truth, like his philosophers, could not,
after the most careful examination, reject the doctrine of
future rewards and punishments. Why not, I ask him ?
They might be as costive of belief, for aught he knows, as
his favourite class of free-thinkers; who, with the same
qualifications; reject all Revelation in general. But it ran
strangely
15$ REMARKS OX TILLARD.
strangely in his head, that if I thought the philosophers
practised the double doctrine on the point in question,
I must needs suppose they had no jived principles. But
it is very unreasonable (says he) and wyust from hence
to conclude, that they who do so, have no belief of their
men, or that they think all religion whatever the inven
tion of designing men. And again, So that, notwith
standing their double doctrine, they had still some JLred
ones of their own. pp. 45. 47. Why, thou mighty de
fender of heathen wisdom ! who ever said they had not !
Or who hut such a defender would not have seen, that
all the force of my argument rests upon this very truth,
that they had fixed principles, that they had a belief of
their own?
But as if he had not done enough in this obliging way,
he w^ill go on, and prove for me, that the double doctrine
was not about different opinions, but the same. I indeed
thought it incumbent on me to shew this : because it was
bringing my argument home to the point, that a future
state was one of the objects of the double doctrine. But
how it could be made to serve his purpose, was quite
beyond my reach. Judge then of my surprise, when I
saw him attempt to prove it at large ; and to conclude
his proof thus: it appears then that the external doctrine
related to the sa?ne thing as the internal, p. 24. I was
some time at a loss for his meaning in the former case :
but here I gave over the search as desperate. Not but
I concluded there was mischief somewhere. At last I
found this slender thing of an argument lie lurking under
a conundrum. I don t know whether it will bear the
handling; but at present it hangs together thus : " The
" external doctrine related to the same thing as the
" internal. Now a future state is one thing, and no
"future state, another. These therefore being two,
" could not be the object of the double doctrine, which
" was concerned with one thing only." But our advocate
is so far from being able to make a good argument, that,
to the shame of his profession, he knows not how to
make a good quibble. For I had all along affirmed the
philosophers, both in their external ^A internal teaching,
held a future state (here s his one and the same thing for
him:) in their external, a future state with rewards and
2 punishments ;
REMARKS ON TILLARD.
punishments; in their internal, a future state without
them.
But though he contends, that the external .doctrine
related to the same thing with the internal, yet it does
not (he says) m the least appear, that the philosophers
believed one thing, and taught a quite contrary to tte
people, p, 19. This is strange indeed. These philoso
phers then must be like their advocate, and teach nothbig*
Otherwise, if the external teaching was for the people,
and the internal what the people could not be trusted with,
and both about the same thing, the two ways of teaching
must certainly proceed upon contrary propositions. Btit,
perhaps, in the humour he is now in, an authority may
be better liked than a reason. I will give him one above
all exception : his own. In another place he tells us,
it did fully appear, that the philosophers believed one.
thing, and taught a quite contrary to the people ; for be
SaYS THE EXTERNAL THEREFORE MUST BE JUST THE
REVERSE [to the internal] WITH RELATION TO THE
SAME POINTS, p. 24.
IV. Our advocate hath given me so little room t
quarrel with him on this head, that the reader must needs
have had a very poor and meagre entertainment. No
thing but a still-born blunder, and the ghost of a departed
quibble. He must therefore be content to make out his
treat with what cold scraps I can pick up from the over-
sodden crambe of his logic and liter at are.
In the fifth page he says, Mr. Warburton EXPRESSES
kimselfvery AMBIGUOUSLY, where he asserts that they
held it lawful, for the public good, to say one thing whm
they thought another. FOR, in the present question, if
we understand by this, that the philosophers believed &
future state in a spiritual, refined, and rational sense.,
while, they sometimes countenanced the people in their
gross, vulgar, and corporeal notions of it, then what he
lays down is certainly true: but if we understand it, AS
HE INTENDS WE SHOULD, that the philosophers preached
the doctrine of a future state to the people, while them
selves believed the contrary, viz. that there was no future
state of rewards and punishments at a/I; then his charge
vn the philosophers is absolutely false.
The
i6a REMARKS ON TILLARD.
The logic of this incomparable period stands thus :
1. First I talk ambiguously, BECAUSE it is in his power
to misunderstand me ; for in the present case (says he)
if WE understand, Sic. not because of any thing I myself
said, or omitted to say. For when I asserted what he
here lays to my charge, I had added, that the philosophers
preached the doctrine of a future state of regards and
punishments to the people, white themselves believed the
contrary ; and repeated it so often over, that this writer
himself, who accuses me of expressing myself ambiguously,
confesses, in the very attempt to prove his accusation,
that he knows my meaning. But if we understand it
(says he) AS HE INTENDS- WE SHOULD
2. Secondly, I talk ambiguously, BECAUSE, in his
sense of the words, they are true in mine, not true.
These are such discoveries in the art of reasoning,
that I could almost wish the Author would add a chapter
of ambiguities to our common logics. A thing, I ll
assure him, very much wanted.
In his ijth page we have these words, Notwith
standing which [viz. the double-doctrine] the design and
end of the philosophers in both, was still in general the
same, that is, to improve mankind as much as they would
bear ; and the doctrines in substance and at the bottom
were all along one and the same , JUST AS true Chris
tianity MAY NOW BE, though in some countries scarce
discernible, being overwhelmed with legends, false mira
cles, image-worship, and all the trumpery of Popish
superstition.
Here s a period, let me tell you, that has no weak side
of sense, but is impenetrable all round. Does he mean
that the external and internal doctrines of the philoso
phers were in general the same, just as pure Christianity,
and corrupt Christianity overwhelmed with legends, false
miracles, image-worship, and all the trumpery of Popish
superstition, are in general the same ? Or does he mean
that the external and internal doctrines of the philosophers
were both to improve mankind as much as they could
bear, just as pure Christianity, and corrupt Christianity
overwhelmed with legends, false miracles, image-worship^
and all the trumpery of Popish superstition, are both to
improve mankind as much as they can bear ? Or, lastly,
which
REMARKS ON TILLARD. 161
which perhaps should have been asked first, had he any
meaning at all ? However it is every way so profound,
that I should advise him to add a chapter of comparisons
to his chapter of ambiguities, that the one may furnish us
with examples to fit his rules in the other. This shall
suffice at present for a specimen of his Art of Reasoning*
Let us turn to his literature, and see first how he
manages his Latin translations.
He gives us the following quotation from -/Elian s
Various History* : It a vero etiam So cr at em non explicit e
disserere 1 , si quis ant em eas dissertationes CON VERT AT,
planissimas esse ; and translates it thus : Socrates used to
talk ambiguously ; but if any one turns and SIFTS his
discourses WITH ATTENTION, they will appear most plain
and easy. p. 1 8.
The reader will seek to no purpose in the Latin for
sifts with attention-, but this was the paraphrase of a
word he did not understand, cotmertat, rf^f*, used by
the Author in allusion to its literal, not figurative
sense. JElian had just before told a story of one, a
connoisseur like our Advocate, who would needs have a
horse painted rolling on his back. The artist brought
him a running horse; which not contenting him, the
other put it into the posture required, by turning the
picture upside down. Turn Socrates thus, says titm*
and you have his true meaning. That is, understand
him by contraries. And this rule was given with judg
ment. For Socrates being perpetually ironical, take him
in the reverse, and he is in his right senses. But our
Advocate knew as little of Socrates a character as of his
Translator s Latin. " Pausonem enim pictorem, quum
" audivisset a quodam, ut yolutantem se equum pmgeret,
" current em eum pinxisse. Quum igitur is qui tabulam
" pingendam locdrat, indignaretur, tanquam contra pac-
" turn ille pimisset, respondisse pictorem, VERTE [or*
" rf ttj/e>] tabulam, 8$ ita volutam tibi esto equus, qui
" nunc est currem. Ita vero etiam Socratem non e.v-
" plicite disserere; si quis autem eas dissertationes CON-
VERTAT [rpgvjxft] planissimas esse." Let us now see how
ably he acquits himself of his original writers.
* L. xiv. .15.
VOL. XI, M He
162 REMARKS ON TILLARD.
He brings a passage from Macrobius in these words,
Si quid de his assignarc conantur, qua ncn sermonem
tantumtnodo, scd cogitatknem quoque huinanam super ant,
ad similitudines $ e.veiupla conjugiunt. Sic ipsa mysteria
ftgurarum cunicul/x operiuntur; ne reY hccc adept is nuda
rerurn talium se natura prabeat; scd summatibus tantum
viris sapientia interprete veri arcani ccnsciis-, content I
sint reliqui ad \:enerat wnem figuris dejcndcntibus a
militate secret urn, i Macrob. 2. Ed. Loud. 1694. Wliich
he translates thus : To THE SAME PURPOSE Macrobiux,
speaking of God and Nature, says, The philosophers
when iheij treated of mch subjects as were beyond all
our words, and exceeded ccen our thoughts, they had
recourse to similes and allusions. FOR THAT THESE
THINGS WERE AS MYSiEIUES, WHICH THE WISE ONLY
WERE CAPABLE OF RECEIVING ; but that others should
be content WITH AN AWFUL VENERATION for them
under the veil of figures and allegories, LEST THEY
SHOULD BE DESPISED, p. 2O.
This comes of free- thinking, and leaving his school*
books to the clergy : who owe him a shame for that con
temptuous donation *.
i. We see here, he makes the words, Si quid de his
assjgnare concuitur, to confugiunt, to relate to the double
doctrine of the philosophers, as is evident by this intro
duction, To the same purpose Macrobius. To what
purpose, I beseech you? Why, to the purpose of Burnett
words immediately preceding, which expressly treat of
the nature of the twofold doctrine of the ancients. But
who but a free-thinker, would not have found that these
of Macrobius relate to a quite different thing? namely,
the inability of expressing spiritual and abstract ideas
any otherwise than by words conveying sensible and
material images. Not, like the external doctrine, a
matter of choice, but necessity ; a necessity arising from
the nature of things. A way of speaking the philosophers
could not avoid, even when conveying their internal
doctrine to their adepts. But now the reader will be apt
to ask, if this be so, as is evident even from the words
themselves, what must we do with the rest of the pas*
* 2^e the quotation, at p. 151.
sage,
REMARKS ON TILLARD. 163
sage, beginning at Sic ipsa mysteria which does indeed
relate to the double doctrine-, for it gives a reason why
men have recourse, to similes and allusions, a reason
founded in the nature and expediency of the double
doctrine? What shall I say? that our Advocate has
wilfully murdered and dismembered poor Macrobius ?
or, that it was mere chance-mediey? Let the reader
determine. It is sufficient he be made to know, that the
latter part of the quotation, beginning at Sic ipsa myste
ria, has no other relation to the former part, beginning at
Si quid de his assignare, than is between two things set
in direct opposition to one another.
2. Macrobius had observed, that the philosophers did
not admit the fabulous in all their disputations ; but in
those only which related to the soul, the HEAVENLY
BODIES, and the HERO-GODS. On the contrary, when
they discoursed of the First Cause, andthewj raf proceed
ing from him, that then every thing was delivered agree
ably to strict truth " Sciendum est tamen -non in omncm
" disputationem philosophos admitterefabulosa vel licit a %
"sect his uti solent, cum vel de anima, vel de yEims,
" jETHERIISVE POTESTATIBUS, Vel de CETER1S D1S
" loquitntur. Ceterum cum ad summum 8$ principcm
" omnium Deum, qui apud Gr&cos T* dyMv qui -srpwrov
" amoi/ Huncupatur, tractatus se audet attollere; vel ad
" merit em, quam Graci vzv appellant, originates reriun
" species, qua l$iou dicta sunt, continentem, ex summo
" natam 8$ project am Deo : cum de his, inquam, loquun-
" tur, summo Deo Sf mente, nihil fabulosum peniius
" attingunt" But then he immediately subjoins, in the
words in question, that, though here they spoke nothing
but the truth, yet, by reason of the high abstraction and
spiritual nature of the subject, they were unavoidably at
.a loss for adequate expressions, and therefore obliged to
* All the old editions had these words vel licit a \ the more modern,
not knowing what to make of them, fairly sunk them, Grono Viiis
takes notice of the fraud, and restores them to their place, but in order
finally to degrade them on a fair hearing. He says they are corrupt,
and should be read Tel jicta. But licit a is the genuine word, which
this Critic would have seen, had he apprehended that it signified
those theological fables allowed of by public authority. So \h&t fabulosa
vel licita signify cither such fabies as the philosophers themselves
invented, or suck as they borrowed from the popular belief.
M 2 speak
164 REMARKS ON TILLARD.
speak figuratively, that is, make use of sensible and
material images. SED si QUID DE HIS ASSIGXAUE
CONAXTUB., QU.E NOX SERMONEM TANTUMMODO, SED
COGITATIONEM QUOQUE HUMAN AM SUPERANT, AD
SIMILITUDINES ET EXEMPLA CONFUGIUNT.
When Macrobius had said this, and illustrated the
last observation by an example from Plato, he goes on
to the other part of his subject, namely, to tell us how
the philosophers managed when they treated of the
other Gods and the soul; then (he says) they admitted of
the fabulous ; not childishly, or to please a wanton ima
gination, but because they knew that exposing Nature,
naked as she was, would be greatly injurious to her.
Who, as she withdraws herself from the knowledge of
the vulgar by her various covering and disguise of FORMS,
so it is her pleasure that the philosophers should handle
her secrets in fable and allegory. " De Diis autem, ut
" dixi, ceteris, & de anima non frustra se, nee ut oblec-
" tent, ad fabulosa convertunt ; sed quia sciunt inimicam
" esse Naturae apertarn nudamque expositionem sui :
" quae sicut vulgaribus hominurn sensibus intellectum sui
" vario rerum TEGMIXE OPERIMEXTOQUE subtraxit;
" ita a prudentibus arcana sua voluit per fabulosa trac-
" tari." Then follow the rest of the words, which should
be translated thus : So the mysteries themselves are hid
under the deceits of figurative representations, lest the
naked truth should obtrude itself even en the initiated.
But while the greatest men, with wisdom for their
guide, are conscious of the true secret , the rest may be
well content with such representations as secure the
dignity of the secret, and are contrived to excite their
veneration. Sic IPSA HYSTERIA FIGURARUM CUNI-
CULIS OPERIUNTUR, NE VEL H^C ADEPTIS NUDA
KEUUM TALIUM SE NATURA PR^EBEAT : SED SUM MA-
TIBUS TANTUM VIRIS, SAPIEXTIA INTERPRETE, VERI
ARCANI CONSCI1S, CONTENTI SIXT RELIQUI AD V-
NERATIONEM FIGURIS DEFEXDENT1BUS A VILITATE
SECHETUM. The reader now sees that this period, and
the other, beginning with Si quid de his assignare, which
our Advocate had tacked to it, are so far from belonging
to one another, that the first describes the unavoidable
condition that attends the speaking truth ; the other the
advantage*
REMARKS ON TILLARD. 165
advantages that may be reaped from lying. But as ill
as he understood the original, his own bad translation,
methinks, might have informed him, that the two parts of
the quotation could have nothing to do with one another,
they are so full of contradiction. The first part says, the
high subjects there spoken of are beyond all our words,
and exceed even our thoughts. The second part says no
such matter, the wise are capable of receiving them.
For the rest, they must do as they can ; be content with,
I do not know what, an awful veneration, c. But more
of this matter presently.
3. For I have not yet done with this wondrous Advocate
of old Philosophy. We have seen how he has acquitted
himself as to the general purport of the quotation : let us
now see "whether he be equally happy in the sense he gives
of the words and phrases.
The learned reader perceives, that the words last
quoted, Sic ipsa mysteria, $c. are an illustration and
inforcement, taken from the practice of the mysteries, of
the foregoing observation, that it was commendable to hide
some things under fables. How does our Advocate
translate Sic ipsa mysteria? Thus, FOR THESE THINGS
WERE AS MYSTERIES. So, from an illustration he makes
it an illation : and mysteria, the rites so called, he de
grades to a simple secret. Sic FOR IPSA THESE
THINGS MYSTERIA WERE AS MYSTERIES. A hope
ful scholar! He had reason to upbraid us with the
memory of our school-books, [Pref. p. v.] Well, but what
are these things that are so like mysteries? Why, even
by his own account, abstract ideas expressed in metapho
rical terms. According to this, the DICTIONARY should
be the most mysterious book in the world : and so, I
suppose, our Free-thinker found it; and having a natural
Aversion to. mysteries, he turned himself to studies oj
quite another nature, p. viii.
The next words, Figurarum cumculis operhmtur, he
has passed over untranslated, and with good reason.
For as they allude to the shows of the mysteries repre
sented in subterraneous pla ces, he could have no kind of
conception of them. The next ne vel hcec adept is nuda
rerurn talium se natura prcebeat, undergo the same
peglect; and on the same account. He knew not what
M 3 to
166 REMARKS ON TILLARD.
to make of adept is, the initiated ; and he thought too it
contradicted
The next Sed summatibus tantum viris, sapient ia in-
terprete, veri arcani consclis. Here he breaks silence,
arid, on my word, to the purpose, WHICH THE VISE
ONLY WERE CAPABLE OF RECEIVING. Sapientia in
ter prete, the wise only are capable of receiving. Not
withstanding the difference of number, it is plain he
thought sapientia interprcte was put in apposition to
summatibus viris. He did riot see the construction was
summatibus viris veri arcani consciis, sapientia interprete,
nor that the sapientia inter pres alluded to the hierophani
of the mysteries, who explained the secret to the most
capable of the initiated, the summatibus viris ; by which
Macrobius meant heroes, princes, legislators, in allusion
to their old practice, of seeking initiation into the greater
mysteries*. And those he had distinguished from the
rest of the initiated, by the foregoing words, ne vel hctQ
adept is nuda rerum talium se natura pmbeat.
The concluding words are, Contenti sint reliqui ad
yeneratlonem jlguris defendentibus a militate secretum,
which he translates, but that others should be content
WITH AN AWFUL VENERATION FOR THEM, Under the
veil ofjigures and allegories, LEST THEY SHOULD BE
JDESPISED. What is meant by a totir shippers being
content with an awful veneration, I do not understand :
much less his being content with an awful veneration,
lest the th ings venerated should be despised. The object
worshipped indeed may be well enough said to be content
with an awful veneration, lest,~\i it should be unreason
able, and expect more, it might come to be despised.
Bat, as our profound Translator well observes, These
things are as mysteries, and so we will leave them.
However, the learned reader sees he took contcnti sint
reliqui ad venerationem fignris, to be the same as con-
" tenti sint reliqui veneratione figurarum, whereas it is
equivalent to contcnti sint reliqui jiguru ad venerationem
excogitatis ; and should be translated thus : The rest
nunj be well content with such representations as secure
tht dignity of the secret, and are contrived to excite their
veneration. What must we think of our Advocate?
* Divine Legation, You II. p. 97.
Does
REMARKS ON TILLARD. 167
Does not he come well instructed in his cause ? Which
shall we admire most ; his modesty, his learning, or his
good faith ? But his translations^ of which his book is
almost all made up, abound with these beauties ; I shall
therefore reserve the examination of tnem for a work by
itself, and leave him at present,
With all his blushing honours thick uDon him.
o
V. Our Advocate goes on to the second of the argu
ments, which, in his apprehension, aiFects the present
question: namely, that t lie philosophers he Id some funda
mental principles, which were altogether mcomlstmt with
the doctrine of future rewards and punishments. Of
these he tells us, and, indeed, tells us fairly, that the
Jirst was, that God could neither be angry nor hurt any
one. The second, that the wit I was a discerped part of
the whole, and that this ichole was God, into whom it
was again to be resohed. p. 47.
These he undertakes to examine in their order.
From the first, that God could not be angry nor hurt
any one, I drew this conclusion, that they could not
believe a future state of rewards and punishments.
Which I endeavoured to support from a passage in
Tally % Offices to this effect. The writer is commending
Regulus for keeping his oath. But (says he) it may be
objected, what is there in an oath? The violator need
not fear the, punishment of Heaven, for all the philoso
phers hold that God cannot be angry nor hurt any one.
To this Tully replies, and owns that indeed it was a
consequence of the general opinion of God s not bci/ig
angry, that the perjured man had nothing to fear from
the divine vengeance. But then it was not this fear,
which was indeed nothing, but justice and good faith
which made the real sanction, or moral obligation of an
oath. Q-.iid est igitur, dixerit quis, in jurejurando?
" Num iratum timemus Jovem ? At hoc quiuem cowiiuthe
" est omnium philosophorum, nuuquam nee irasci Daim,
" necnocere Haecquideai ratio non rnagis contra Regu-
" him quatn contra prune j usjurandurn valet: sed in
" jurejurando non qui rnetus, sed qme vis sit, debet
< intelligi. Est enim jusjuranduin affirmatio reli^iosa.
* Quod autem affirinate, quasi Deo tegte ? promises, id
M 4 " teneudum
168 REMARKS ON TILLARD.
" tenendum est : jam enim non ad iram Deorum, quae
" nulla cst ; sed ad justitiam & ad fidem pertinet*."
i. Now what says our Advocate to this? Upon the
whole of this authority (he says) / think it appears that
the OBJECTOR rightly cited an opinion of the philosophers,
bat, mistaking the true meaning, drew a wrong conclusion
from it. Tully, NOT TROUBLING HIMSELF TO CONFUTE
on SET HIM RIGHT, goes on with his purpose, and proves
the intrinsic sacredness and obligation of an oath, without
regarding the circumstances of hope or fear. p. 49.
What an idea has he here given us of this great rea-
soner ! Tully thinks an objector worth taking notice of,
and yet WILL NOT TROUBLE HIMSELF TO CONFUTE
HIM. Without doubt our Advocate here compared
Tully to himself for reasoning ; as before he had com
pared himself to Chief Justice Hale for Greek. And
because lie can write books against an objector^ without
troubling himself to confute him, he thought Tuliy might
do so too. But the best of the story is, that this objector.
proves to be Tully s own self; Diver it quis, a man might
perhaps object (says he). And sure Tully did not mistake,
the true meaning of a common opinion. And as for a
voluntary slip, it was not his way, as it is this Author s,
to make blunders, and pass them off for other men s,
with a dixerit aliquis. Bat it seems, Tully not only
mistook the true meaning, but drew a wro : ng conclusion
from it. This is hard. And, harder still, he had not the
patience to stay and set himself right. But sure, if he,
had all tills leisure to discredit his own judgment, by
inventing wrong meanings, and drawing worse conclu
sions, he would have found time to restore himself to
his reader s opinion by confuting them. But then, whe
ther the objection was Tully $ or another man s, what a
low opinion must Tully have, in the mean time, of the
importance of & future state to society, if, in a Book of
Offices, he would not trouble himself to confute or set an
objector right, \\hom he had brought in with a mistaken
argument that overturned it? There is indeed a times
when a serious writer would not trouble himself to con-
Jute or set a wrangler right. And it is such an one as
* De Offic. !. 3. c, 28, 29. t See his Title-page.
this,
REMARKS ON TILLARD. 169
this, where the perversity is so great, as to become an
insult upon every reader s understanding.
2. But his Translation is in all respects as curious as
his Comment. It follows in these words : But some one
might object and my, that Regulus need be under no ap
prehension from the breach of his oath, of his being
punished by the Gods, since it is a WELL-KNOWN SAY
ING amongst philosophers. That God cannot be angry*
Fully, in answer to this, says, that this might be a
reason not only against Regulus, but against all oaths
whatsoever ; for (says he) in swearing it is not the fear
of punishment, but the EFFICACY and IMPORTANCE of
it, which is to be regarded ; for an oath is a religious
affirmation made in the presence of God, and as such
ought to be solemnly observed. To conclude then, it is
not the anger of the Gods, which is NOTHING [IN THE
PRESENT CASE] hut justice and good faith which is [IM
MEDIATELY] tO be RESPECTED, pp. 48, 49.
Hoc guide m COMMUNE est OMNIUM philosophorum,
gays Tally. It is a WELL-KNOWN SAYING AMONGST the
philosophers, says his Translator, instead of, this is a tenet
common to all the philosophers, commune dogma, decretum.
In jurcjurando (says Tully) non qui metus, sed qucK
vis sit debet intelligi. In swearing (says his Translator)
it is not the fear of punishment, but the EFFICACY and
IMPORTANCE of it, which is to be regarded. The pre
tended Objector observing that the people were chiefly
influenced, in their oaths, by the fear of divine punish-*
ment, argues against the efficacy of oaths in this manner.
All the philosophers (says he) hold that God cannot be
angry, therefore he cannot punish ; consequently oaths
will have no efficacy, or there will be nothing in an oath.
To this Tully gives a plain answer. The ejficacy of an
path (says he) is not to be measured by the degree of
fear that attends the taking it, but by the moral obliga
tion of keeping it, that is, by its proper sanction. In
jurejurando non qui met us, sed qua vis sit debet intelligi.
Literally, in swearing it ought to be considered, not what
fear attends it, but what sanction it hath. And then
shews, this sanction to be good faith. All here is close
and well argued. Let us now hear how his TVanslator
makes hiin reason. An oath (says the Objector) is of no
EFFICACY
170 REMARKS ON TILLARD.
EFFICACY [quid cst in jttrejurando?] because fear is no
more. Oh, replies 7 \dly, it is not fear, but the EFFI
CACY and IMPORTANCE of an oath, that is to be re
garded. Admirably concluded. And had Tully reasoned
thus, I should have believed he \&& forgot his Greek too,
and turned himself to studies of quite another nature.
But the flower of translations is the following : Tully;
Jam enim non ad irarn Diorum, Q.UJIL NULL A EST. llis
Translator ; To conclude then, it is not the anger of the
Gods, which is NOTHING [IN THE PRESENT CASE] Qu&
nulla cst ! Here he believed in good earnest that qua
nulla est was equivalent to quce ni-iil ad rtm pertinci : and
so it may b6, for aught I know, in his Law-Latin, but in
Cicero s, it signifies the same as quce Tana $ commentitia
est. Tully; sed ad justitiam ad jidem PERTINET.
His Translator ; but justice and good jaith which /^[IM
MEDIATELY] to be RESPECTED. Pert wct, immediately
to be respected, lie could not find the nominative case
to his verb, and so took pertinet to be the impersonal.
But another time let him remember it is governed of ID.
Jam enim \idquodpromiseris~] non ad iram Dcorum, qutc
nulla est, sed ad justitiam &; ad Jider.i pertinet. Literally
thus, For now what you hare promised relates not to
the anger of the Gods, which is indeed no anger, but to
justice and good fail h. This concludes the argument
very logically. But our Advocate says, justice and good
faith is IMMEDIATELY to be respected: Which vitiates
the whole reasoning. First, as these words do not imply
the sanction, the very thing Tully is here fixing. Secondly,
as they do imply that something else was to be respected,
the very thing Tulhj is here opposing.
Is not this an able interpreter of his old philosophers ?
Yet the poor man did his best; and, without doubt,
laboured hard. With what gravity does he introduce this
subject ! From the first [principle] that God could not he.
angry nor hurt any one, he [Mr. W.] draws a conclusion,
that they could believe no future state, $c. ichich he
endeavours to support by a passage in Tully, the TRUE
SENSE of tev///t7i, when CONSIDERED, will not, as I ap
prehend, answer Ids purpose, pp. 47, 48.
VI. But he will still go on : To sJtew (says he) that the
-. Ancients did not draw the same concluiionfrom this opinion
REMARKS ON TILLARD.
of the philosophers, as the Objector in Tully or Mr. War-
burton, it appears in many places that they believed
What ? that the GODS actually punished this very crime,
and that men incurred their anger and displeasure by
committing it. p. 50. And so say I too. Nay more, I
shew at large * the consistency of this belief, that the
Gods punished, with that other, that the one God did not
And yet to establish this important point he brings two
witnesses, Cornelius Nepos and Xenophon.
But, as if conscious of the impertinence, he talks more
to the purpose in what follows. Ami that Mr. War-
burton s distinction between the anger of demons and that
of the Supreme Being may have no place here, it may be
necessary to shew by a passage or two, that, as to t/ic
effects, the same is asserted of the SUPREME GOD. p. 52.
This is saying something. But now to his evidence. The
first he produces are three poets. Plesiod (says he) tells
us, that he who speaks the truth in public, will be re
warded by all-seeing Jove ; but he who forswears him
self is irreparably lost, and his posterity shall come to
nothing, but the generation of the just shall flourish.
And Phocyiides, Forswear not thyself either inadver
tently or knowingly, for the immortal God hateth a false,
oath ; and of hers lurce spoke to the same purpose, pp. 52,
53, for which he quotes 4 Iliad. 167.
1. Let us attend to the question. It is, Whether
the Greek philosophers believed the One Supreme God
punished and rewarded ? And for the proof of the affir
mative, he brings us three Greek poets. But this is not
the worst :
2. Two of these poets do not so much as speak of the
Supreme Being, but of the ialse idol Gods of the people.
Homer and Hesiod expressly call the God, they here
speak of as the rewarder and punisher of true and, false
swearers, ZET2 KPONIAH2, Jupiter Saturnius. Now
it will be news, I suppose, to this writer, that Jupiter
Saturnhis was not the One Supreme Being, but Jupiter
the Son of Saturn, an idol-deity, though set at the head
of the college.
The other Greek poet is, if possible, still less to his
purpose. For he happens to be no heathen at all ; in-
* Divine Legat. Book III. 4.
deed
172 REMARKS ON TILLARD,
deed not so honest a man : but a false Christian, the
disgrace of our holy religion, who would put himself on
the world for old Phocylides the Milesian, contemporary
with Theognis. But the imposture hath been detected
by critics of the first order, such as Joseph Scaliger, Ger.
and Is. Vossius, D. Heuisius, Huetius, Reiskius, Bar-
thins, Taubman, &c. To the abundant arguments they
have produced, we may add this very expression, cited
by my adversary, "Fiu^xo* rfuyt 0o? aco]^.
3. But had these poets been philosophers, and their
idol Gods, the Supreme, who, unless it was our Advocate,
would not have seen that, in popular writings, they must
needs talk popularly, and keep an esoteric opinion, so
destructive of society, to themselves ?
But he comes yet closer to the point. And PLATO
says, GOD will execute vengeance on him, who, slight
ing the awful majesty of his divine power, shall at
any time forswear himself, pp. 52, 53. He hath given
us a philosopher at last, we see ; but to understand with
what judgment, we must again state the question.
1. Which is, whether the Greek philosophers BE
LIEVED that the Supreme God punished and rewarded.
!Nqw our Advocate hath owned, and, what is more,
hath proved, that the philosophers had a twofold doctrine,,
an internal and an external ; that the one contained
matter of belief, the other of utility. I have proved (to
which our Advocate hath said nothing) that the philoso
phers divided their writings into two classes, the exoteric
and esoteric ; and that this very Book of Plato, intitled,
Of Laws, from whence he hath taken the passage above,
\vas of the exoteric kind. Yet for all this, he can with
out blushing, or, perhaps, without knowing why he should
blush, quote the Book of Laws, for Plato s real senti
ments, in contradiction to what Tully and Lactantius tell
us was part of the esoteric doctrine of all the philoso
phers. The impartial reader will hardly reflect on this,
without some sort of pity or indignation. But what will
he say when I tell him that this j allaci/, with others as,
gross, that have been and shall be taken notice of in their
place, run through every page of his performance ?
2. But we have not yet done with this quotation from.
Plato. It is doomed to undergo a still greater disgrace.
1 1 la
REMARKS ON TILLARD. i?3
In an evil hour did our Advocate forget his Greek*
unconscious that Fate and Free-thinking had decreed to
raise him up, in spite of nature, for the preparer of the
way to pure Pagan philosophy, with his
Petite hinc, juvenescjue, senesqiie,
Finem ammo cert urn imsensque viatica canls *.
For here Serranus hath given him a terrible quid pro quo*
which he hath innocently swallowed. This Translator
makes Plato say DEUS ilium odio prosequitur, qul SA
CROSANCT A m v r N i N u M i N i s auth orltcite neglect a fahum
jur amentum dicit \. But Plato says no such thing. He
speaks of the GODS, in the plural, such as the people
worshipped. The whole passage is in these words : Let
no man, when he invokes the GODS for his truth, mix
any thing of falsehood, fraud, or insincerity, cither in his
word or deed , unless he chuscs to become most hateful to
the Gods. As in thejirst place is he, who, without any
reverence to the GODS, swears falsely : And in the second
place, he, who lies before his betters.
)EfIN, pyre Aoyy pyrt tgyy vrpocfciiEv, o pr,
\Diis infensissimas, says Serranus rightly here]
<T
o ov ooxaf
v TWJ/
^lu Wai. Had our Advocate had the least taste of an
tiquity, he might have seen, from the concluding period,
with what spirit the whole was written. With no other,
sure, than to instruct the people in their devoirs to societv.
A likely place to find any of Plato s esoteric doctrines. "
But if one considers the whole evidence together, one
would wonder how it could ever enter seriously into the
head of one, whose profession (if it taught him any tiling)
taught him to judge of the nature of evidence, that poets
writing to the people, and speaking their language, or a
poetical philosopher writing a popular book of laws to
keep them in order, should ever talk to a heathen com
monalty of the only One God.
VII. But he is wiser in what follows The next
authority (says he) Mr. Warburton brings to strei gthen
his conclusion is from Lactantius, which hi call* an
* The Motto to his Title-page, f Plat. 917, a. Ed. Serr.
274 REMARKS ON TILLARD.
illustrious instance ; but on reading, it turns out so low and
insipid, THAT IT is NOT WORTH CONSIDERING, p. 53.
Indeed, so short ! How happy had it been for him, had
he passed the same judgment on all the rest ! The argu
ment from Lactantius stood thus : That eloquent writer,
in defending Christianity^ found nothing so much opposed
the doctrine of a future judgment , as a prevailing prin
ciple common to all the philosophers, that God could not
be angry. He therefore composed his discourse, intitled,
JDc Ira Dei, to combat this following syllogism :
If Cod hath no affections of love or hatred, fondness
or anger, he cannot reward or punish.
But he hath no affections, ^T. -Therefore, fyc.
A modern advocate of religion would certainly have
denied the major, but that was a principle which Lac-
tantius expressly tells us was received by all parties. He
therefore turns his whole discourse against the minor ;
and endeavours to prove that God hath these affections.
Nor does he at all mince the matter. Tor he tells us
there are in God, as in Man, the passions of love and
hatred : And, to make all s.ure, contends for God s hav
ing an human form. Nov.* the inference I drew from it
was this, that, as Lactantius was admirably well skilled
in all Pagan philosophy, he could not mistake a principle
which all the philosophers held, nor a consequence which
they all drew from it. The principle was, that the Su
preme Gad had no affections ; and the consequence, that
he could neither reward nor punish. Therefore this
principle and this consequence were held by ALL, the
point to be proved. It was on this account, that I called
the case of Lactantius an illustrious one. Our Advocate
says tis low and insipid, and not worth considering. Utri
creditis, quirites ?
But I commended him too soon. He won t let the
matter rest when tis well : See then what comes of it.
He tells the reader, foot I myself say Lactantius knew
lit fie of Christianity. Egregious Advocate! must not
this be the very cause (if there were any cause at all) of
those philosophic prejudices, which so fatally disposed
him to attack the minor rather than the major? That
fie Jell into many errors. Could it be otherwise while
he opposed the minor ? That his Treatise was obscure.
Must
REMARKS ON TILLARD. 175
Must it not needs be so, when his opposition to the
minor led him to maintain, that there is in God, as iu
Man, the passions of love and hatred? And strongly
contended that God had a human form. Was not this
extravagance a full proof that the connexion between the
principle (of God s having no passions) and the conse
quence (that he could neither punish nor reward) was so
universally held, that he could find no way to break
through ; but was forced to wade it, by asserting God
had passions ? For which to provide a proper suojectj
he thought fit to give him a human form likewise. All
then (says our Advocate) that appears from, this illus
trious instance is, that Lactantius grossly mistook thisjim
sentiment of the philosophers. Does he know whom he
talks of? Why, this Lactantius was a philosopher him
self; not like that canting tribe of dunces, Porphyry,
{famblichus, &c. who first brought their fanaticism into
the schools of philosophy, which so soon after, and so
fatally, infected the church of Christ ; but one whom
the greatest monarch of the world made choice of for the
governor of his Son. He was a lawyer too, and his
critics say, a happy emulator of the eloquence of Cicero.
Yet our Advocate believes in good earnest, \h&t he grossly
mistook this jine sentiment of the philosophers. Alas !
What he mistook were the fine sentiments of Christianity ,
and this in too warm a zeal for overturning those of
philosophy, which he understood but too well. And in
combating with it fell into a puddle of foul absurdities.
Who told him so ? Doctors differ. St Jerom calls this
tract De Ira Dei, pulcherrimum opus. Which had our
Advocate known, without doubt, he had opposed the
judgment of a Father of the church to mine. For, to say
the truth, I arn answerable for all the freedoms he here
takes with Lactantius , what he knew of the De Ira Dei
being only from The Divine Legation. But I produce
the authority of Jerom, who differs so much from my
sentiments of the Tract, to shew the reader that Lac
tantius s manner of supporting a future judgment against
the philosophers, was the approved defence of the learned
Christians of that time. Consequently Lactantiu did
not grossly mistake this FINE sentiment of the ph os.-
fhers. pp, 53, 54.
VIII. tut
i?6 REMARKS ON TlLLARD.
VIII. But this principle seems fated to disgrace him ;
so that he can t for his life let it alone. He goes oil
therefore in these words : To clear this matter more fully,
it may now be proper to consider the PRINCIPLE itself,
which, as Mr. Warburton says, greatly embarrassed
antiquity ; because the ancients, says he, could not dis*
tinguish between human passions and the divine attributes
of justice and goodness, p. 393*. But I hope to make it
appear, that the ancients were not at all embarrassed ; and
that they distinguished in this particular, just in the
same manner as we do now. p. 54.
He tells the reader, I say the PRINCIPLE greatly
embarrassed antiquity, and refers to page 393*. Let the
reader then hear me speak. " We see Tully owns the
" consequence of this univeral principle. A modern
" reader, full of the philosophic ideas of these late ages,
"will be surprised, perhaps, to be told, THAT THIS
" CONSEQUENCE GREATLY EMBARRASSED ANTIQUITY;
" when he can so easily evade it, by distinguishing be-
cc tween human passions and the divine attributes of
" justice and goodness, on which alone the doctrine of a
" future state of rewards and punishments is invincibly
" established. But the ancients had no such precise
" ideas of the divine nature. They knew riot how to
" sever anger from its justice, nor fondness from its good-
" ness." He charges me with saying, the PRINCIPLE
greatly embarrassed antiquity : and 1 say the CONSE
QUENCE from that principle greatly embarrassed an
tiquity. What are we to think of this ? That it was done
with design ? Alas ! No. The poor man knew no dif
ference between principles and consequences, premisses
and conclusions. Or if he had any meaning, it was to
shew his contempt of these, and all other my nice dis
tinctions, divisions, and subdivisions, which, he tells us,
he passes over as needless curiosities, p. 3.
But his next attendant effort is still more surprising.
For he rises in his blunders, like Homers battles in their
terror. I had said, the ancients were embarrassed. He
will prove they were not at all embarrassed, without so
much as knowing what ancients must needs be meant.
Now the intelligent reader sees they are the ancient
9 Div. Leg. Vol. III. pp. 129, 130. S
CHRISTIAN,
REMARKS ON TILLARD. 17?
CHRISTIAN, not Pagan writers, for this plain reason,
That, though I hold neither Christian nor Pagan writers
could distinguish between human passions aid the divine
attributes, yet none but Christian \vrkrrs could be
embarrassed with the consequence of God s not being
angry (which consequence was, that therefore he could
not punish) because none but Christians (according to
my assertion) held that he could punish. Now from
their holding, as they did at first, with the philosophers,
that God could not be angry, and with the founders of
their faith, that he would punish, arose ail that E MB AR
RAS I took notice of; and which of course I must suppose
the Pagans free from, by their not holdup * ] ^e two
supposed contrary propositions. Our Advocate, who
had not the least conception of all this, will yet venture
to contradict me ; and taking it for granted, as he dc^s
every thing he can t prove, that I meant PAGAN antiquity
lay under this embarras, he brings a number of passages
from Pagan philosophers, to confute rny assertion. Thus
all he proves, if he should chance to prove any thing,
being nothing to the purpose, I might here fairly leave
him to himself.
But as Pagan antiquity, though it was not embar
rassed like the Christian., yet was not at all more exact
in its ideas of the divine attributes, I will permit our
Advocate, for once, to suppose, that I had said, that the
ancient philosophers were embarrassed, and could not
distinguish between human passions and the divine at
tributes: Let us see then what he will make of it. But
as I restore him his arms, and instruct him how to use
them, it may be allowed me to remind my reader,
1. That when I say they could not distinguish between
human passions and the divine attributes., I mean the
attributes of thejirst Cause of all things.
2. When I say they could not distinguish, I mean
distinguish in such a manner, as to leave room for the
doctrine of a future state of rewards and punishments ;
all other distinctions being out of the question.
Well then, to prove that Antiquity was not embarrassed,
how does this mighty champion of old philosophy set
out? Why, first, he proves that he himself is not embar-
Voi,. XL N ramd.
178 REMARKS ON TILLARD.
rassed. Secondly, that those who read the Scriptures
cannot be embarrassed. But tins is only to feel his
own strength, and make the flourish of his arms. He
soon comes to himself, and then says, But that the
reader may see how rightly the philosophers could dis
tinguish between human passions and the divine attri-
bittes, I shall now lay before him some passages, in which
it is said God is not subject to passion, or that he is void
of anger, and can hurt none; and others, where he is
said to be angry, and to punish sinners for their crimes ;
by which every one may the better judge, whether the
ancients were not exactly of the same opinion as himself ^
and did not speak as Christians now do, sometimes with
regard to the ineffable and absolute rectitude of an in-
jinitely perfect Being, and sometimes with respect to the
relation he bears to its his finite and imperfect creatures.
pp. 54 ^56. This is indeed to the point.
Andjirst, says he, / readily agree with Mr. Warbur-
ton, that it was the opinion of all the philosophers, that
God could not be angry, nor hurt any one. p. 56. And
though we agree in this, yet he will bring several wit
nesses to prove it. This is always his way, when he has
so safe ground to go upon. Thus he proved the double
doctrine of the philosophers, and the single object of
that double doctrine. And on such occasions, I must
acquaint the reader, he is a most unmerciful prover.
But as he can never forbear mixing and confounding the
several parts of his subject, the last of his testimonies,
to prove God cannot be angry, being taken from Seneca,
he is drawn to another question before his time. But
order, method, and logic, we know, are nothing with this
writer. However, a good thing never comes amiss.
What, then, says Seneca? That that man is mistaken^
who supposes the Gods can hurt any one ; for they
neither can do wrong, nor suffer it, both of which betoken
frailty. But Seneca immediately after says, that the.
GODS do exact punishment, and chastise some for their
good. Therefore, Seneca must either contradict hin.
or speak of the same beings in different respects ; and
indeed these two last passages of Seneca, one of which is
quoted by Mr. V r arburton ? TO PIU>VE that the Gods can
hurt
REMARKS ON TILLARD. 179
hurt none, seem to have no reference to their just anger
against sinners, but to such hurt or injury as arises from
wrong or injustice, p. 58.
1. This whole remark is nothing to the purpose. Seneca
here means the GODS of Paganism, not thejirst Cause of
all things, where he talks of their punishing and chastising.
Now the first Cause is the subject of our question.
2. But of these two passages, one is quoted by me (he
says) TO PROVE that the Gods can hurt none. The
passage is in vol. iii. page 145, of this Edition. My
words are these, A benevolence too, that went not from
the will, but the essence of the Supreme Being , SO
Seneca informs us, Qu& causa est Diis, fyc. Here again
his old luck follows him. I quoted it, to shew what kind
of benevolence they gave to God : he says, I quoted it to
prove the Gods can hurt none.
Having thus notably supported his agreement with
me, that it was the opinion of the philosophers that God
could not be angry nor hurt any one ; he proceeds, But
that THEY are angry, so as to punish the wicked for
their crimes, might be proved by a multitude of testi
monies. Without doubt it might. But what then ? I
require him to shew, that the philosophers believed the
one God could be angry and punish ; and he says, they
believed their false Gods could. And so said I, and
proved it likewise. Yet he brings witness upon witness,
poets upon philosophers, to shew they thought THE GODS
could be angry and punish : and then goes on thus: By
all which it manifestly appears, that when the ancients
said, GOD could not be angry, they meant, &c. pp. 5860.
Was there ever such a reasoner ? He will prove what
the ancients thought of their false GODS, a thing nobody
asked ; and from thence conclude, what they thought
of the SUPREME, a thing nobody will believe.
But lest the reader should suspect, as he has little
reason, that this was only a blunder in words ; and that
though our Advocate promised to shew by quotations,
what was nothing to the purpose, yet the quotations
themselves might haply inform us of what was ; I shall
run through his passages.
The two first (p. 59.) are from Plato s Book of Laws 9
a writing of the exoteric kind, in wfiich the philosopher
K 3 speaks
iSo REMARKS ON TILLARD.
speaks to the people; and consequently must need*
speak of those Gods they were acquainted with. In one
of the passages he actually uses the plural, in the other
the singular, used perpetually, in the writings of the
ancients, for the plural: Sometimes as the peculiar tute
lary God of the people was meant; sometimes as it was
Jupiter the first of the class; but most frequently as it
was a common figure of speech for a Greek republican
to say the God or the Magistrate, when there were a
hundred of each. But what will surprise our Advocate
(who appears not to have received instruction on this
matter) they sometimes, though very rarely, used the
plural for the singular. As Seneca, in the place that
came in question just above, Qiitf causa est Diis, &c. arid
Sallust, in another, that will come in question below.
A v little discernment is sufficient to take them right, in
either of these conversions. N But this is more, it seems,
than we are to expect of our Advocate, who puzzling
on, between his true and false Gods, hangs, like a false
teacher as he is, between heaven and earth, in the fool s
paradise of Pagan philosophy.
The other two passages he brings (p. 59.) are from a
spurious thing given to Cicero. This was a pleasant
mistake. He had seen me quote Tul/y de Consolatione>
twice, and therefore thought he might safely do the same.
But my two passages were from the genuine fragments of
that lost book ; his two, by the malice of his old luck,
from that forgery of Sigonius, intitled, De Consolatione,
and fathered upon Tully : but it could never get a god
father till our Advocate became its sponsor. Cicero (says
he) says that a man by his wickedness becomes an enemy
and hated of God. And for this decisive saying, Cic. de
ConsoL is quoted.
He goes on, But we need not question the philosophers,
when the poets say the same, p. 60. Nay, it must be
owned they re all in a story. And how should they chuse,
when prompted by their false Gods> in whose favour they
are speaking ?
At length, however, as if even sensible of the imper^
tinence of all he had been saying, he goes on thus : But
not to let this matter rest wholly upon CONCLUSIONS,
though never so well grounded, lie means inferences.
You
REMARKS ON TILLARD. 181
You must excuse him. If he be there, or thereabouts,
tis enough for a man so averse to the nicety of distinction.
Well, not to let it rest then (though I suspect it had
been the wiser course, as I am so well acquainted with
his way of mending matters) What then ? Why, he will
further shew what constructions they put upon such
expressions, by one who has wrote a whole chapter upon
this question, " In what sense can the Gods, who are
"immutable, be said to be either angry or appeased?"
In which he tells us, <l that God cannot, properly speak-
" ing, be said to rejoice, for then he must sometimes be
" affected with sorrow ; nor to be angry, since anger is
" a motion of the mind , nor to be pleased with gifts, for
" that would be to be overcome with pleasures, fyc.; but
" while we are good, we are united to the Gods by simili-
" tude, and when wicked, separated for our unlikeness:
" Not that they are really angry, but thai our offences
" hinder the light of their goodness from shining upon us ;
" wherefore it is the same thing to say, God hateth, or
" is angry with sinners, as to say the mn is hid from the
" eyes of those who are blind! pp. 62, 63. These are the
words of Sallust the philosopher. To which I answer,
l. That this Sallust is no legal evidence. I have
expressly excepted against him and all his fellows, all
that came so long after the times in question ; which I
confine to the period before Christ. The rising of the
Gospel, I confess, again and again, gave such light to the
philosophers, that they refined all their doctrines by its
splendor, and then, like their mimic brethren of the
present age, ungratefully abused their benefactors. These
are my words in one place of my book ; "Such was the
" general doctrine on this point, before the coming of
" Christianity. But then those philosophers who held
" out against its truth, after some time, new-modelled
:c both their philosophy and religion : making their phi-
" losophy more religious, and their religion more philo-
" sophical. So, amongst the many improvements of Pa-
" ganism, the softening this doctrine was one. And it
" is remarkable, that then, and not till then, the philoso*
" phers began realty to believe the doctrine of a future
" state of rewards and punishments*" What now must;
* i)iv. Leg. Book III. 4.
N 3 WS
i8i2 REMARKS ON TILLA&D.
we think of our Advocate ? Was there ever any thing
so shameless ? Yet this is one of his hackney fallacies,
that runs on all his errands.
2. But as our Advocate is turned solicitor, and, with
out doubt, has been at much pains in finding out this
witness, we will hear him. And if he should chance to
prove what I affirm, and what my adversary denies, it
would be but the common case of evidence picked up at
a venture, to support a bad cause. To keep him no
longer in suspense, I must here let him know, that, had
I searched all antiquity, I could not have found a passage
more to my purpose. Such is his old luck at quoting.
This Salhist having put together some common-place
stuff of the gods and the world, in his fourteenth chap
ter proposes to speak to this question, How the immu
table gods may be said to be angry and appeased. Uus of
>fo) JK.IJ {AfJft&xAAojtAit Oi, cpy/^WG&t xj StpoiTrtvssQui Xfyovjat.
He says in the first place, that God has no human
passions, he neither rejoices, is angry, nor appeased with
gifts, 2**jp* o? <^ ogyi^slxi ao* ^wfoi; StyflHTfUsJai.
So far doubtless is agreeable to truth. But how then ?
Why that the Cods are eternally beneficent, or, as Seneca
had said, Causa Diis benefaciendi NATURA, and beneji-
cent only, but never hurtful, ix*Vo* p\v ttyafot rt tlw AEI,
xj wpfAscn povov j3Aa?rl8a-* SI sMwoIs. Thus having avoided
one extreme, he falls into another, and supposeth it blind
nature and not will that determines God s beneficence.
The inference from this is, that the rewards and punish
ments of heaven are the natural and necessary effects of
actions ; not positive, arbitrary consequences, or the
designation of will. And so our philosopher maintains.
For now the difficulty being, that if Nature be the cause
of the beneficence of the Godhead, how can Providence
bestow good on the virtuous man, and evil on the wicked ?
Our Sophist resolves it thus : While we are good, we are
joined by similitude of nature to the Gods ; and when
evil, separated by dissimilitude They become our enemies,
not because they arc angry at us, but because our crimes
hinder the Gods from shining on us wherefore it
would be the same thing to say, that God is turned away
from the evil, as to say, the SUN is HID FROM A BLIND
MAN.
REMARKS ON TILLARD. 183
ax
w rf opoiov rov @foi/ Asyni/ ra? xaxsf uiri
HAION TO?? Irfi/Asvoi? TWV o\J/wi/ x^w?r]g(r9at. All
apt comparison, and very expressive of the case ; where
the influence of the Deity is supposed to be natural, like
the sun s, and consequently all reward and punishment,
HOI the moral, but the necessary issue of things. A Pla
tonic principle entirely subversive of the proper doc
trine of a future state of rewards and punishments, as
believed every where by the people, and taught by the
Christian religion. But this matter I had explained at
large in the book* he pretends to write against.
The Pagans then, we find, in taking away human pas
sions from God, left him nothing but an essential excel
lence, that went not from his will, but his nature only,
and consequently was destitute of morality. This was
one extreme. The primitive Christians, as Lactantius,
seeing clearly that the Platonic notion of God overturned
& future, judgment, and not seeing that medium which
their masters in science, the philosophers, had missed of,
maintained that God had human passions. And this was
the other extreme. And whence, I pray, did both arise,
but from neither s being able to distinguish between human
passions aud THE DIVINE ATTRIBUTES OF JUSTICE AND
GOODNESS, the true medium between human passions
and a blind excellence of nature? Did not I guess right
when I said, if he would not let the matter rest, he would
soon make it worse? Yet hear how triumphantly he
goes off; unconscious of all the fine work he has been
making. And now I may venture to affirm (says he)
that no one can reasonably imagine this opinion of the
philosophers, that God cannot be angry, fyc. could be any
the least obstacle to their believing a future state of
rewards and punishments, p. 63. I, for my part, will
only venture to affirm that the dispute between us (if
that may be called a dispute where there is no contra
diction) stands thus : I had said, The ancients could not
distingaisli between human passions and the divine attri
butes of justice and goodness in the FIRST CAUSE of all
things : and he has proved they could distinguish between
* Div. Leg. Book III. sec, 2. & seqq,
N 4
1 84 REMARKS ON TILLARD.
just and unjust passions in their IDOLATROUS GODS. I
had said, they could not so distinguish as to leave any
foundation J or the doctrine of a future state of rewards
and punishments : and he has proved that I said true, by
one of his ovvn witnesses, Sallusi the philosopher. But,
what the reader can reasonably imagine, upon this view
of the evidence, as I would not pretend to direct his
judgment, 1 will not venture to affirm.
IX. I now come to the next principle (says our Advo
cate) which Mr. Warburton lays down as repugnant to
the belief of a future, state, fyc. which is, " That the
" generality of the philosophers held the soul to be a dis-
" cerped part of a whole, and this whole was God, into
whom it was again to be resolved." BUT HERE HE
BEGINS; AS IN OTHER PLACES, TO EXPRESS HIS FEARS,
" that the reader will suspect (as I am apt to think he
" will) these kind of phrases are highly figurative ex-
" pressions, and not to be measured by the severe standard
* ( of metaphysical propriety" and therefore he desires
the reader to take notice of another consequence j rom
this principle, which is, that the soul was eternal a parte
ante, as well as a parte post ; and this, as^ he says, was
universally held by antiquity, though he attempts to bring
but one authority to prove it, which he says is above
exception ; and therefore I shall transcribe it out of his
own hook, as he quotes it from Cudworth, that the reader
may the better judge of its validity. " It is a thing very
" well known (says the great Cudworth) that according
" to the seme of philosophers, these two things were
" always included together, in that om opinion of the
* soufs immortality r , namely, its pr<z~evistcnce as well as
" its post-existence-, neither was there ever any of the
" ancients before Christianity, that held the soul s future
" permanency after death, who did not likewise assert its
" pr<-existence ; they clearly perceiving, that if it was
" once granted that the soul was generated, it could never
" be proved but that it might also be corrupted: and
" therefore the assert ers of the soul s immortality com-
" monly began here; Jirst to prove its prae-existcnce"
8$c. pp. 64, 65.
Here (says he) he begins, as in other places, to ex
press his FEARS. This is the second time he has told me
of
REMARKS ON TILLARD. 185
of my fears. And without doubt he took me in good
earnest for some very fearful animal, or he would never
have ventured so wantonly to insult me. But the reader
perhaps may be curious to know how that Writer ex
presses his fears of his own arguments, who has been
represented by the Bigots of the opposite party, as de
spising all other men s. The fearful passage is in these
words : " And that the reader may not suspect these
" kind of phrases, as that the soul is part of God; dis-
" cerpedfrom him; of his nature ; which perpetually
" occur in the writings of the Ancients, to be only highly
"figurative expressions, and not to be measured by the
" exact standard of metaphysical propriety ; he is desired
" to lake notice of one consequence drawn from this
" principle, and universally held by antiquity, which was
" this, that the soul was eternal a parte ante, as well as
" a parte post; which the Latins well expressed by the
" word Sempiternus* ." Does the reader rind any of that
passion here which our quick-sighted Advocate has dis
covered ? All I can say to the matter is, that as it is the
punishment of free-acting to fear for one s self, where
no fear is; so it is, it seems, the regard of free-thinking
to see fear for others where no fear is.
Well, but let us hear what he has to say to the passage
from Cudworth. Now I readily agree (says he) that what
Cud worth says of the philosophers is true ; but deny that
what Mr. Warburton quotes him for , can any ways be
proved from thence ; which is, that the philosophers held
tfo soul to be eternal a parte ant& as well as a parte post ;
and indeed the re is not ONE WORD which either expresses,
or, WITH ANY TOLERABLE PROPRIETY, implies any
such doctrine. They held, says Cudworth, the soul s
pr<e -existence, or that it was in being before the body ;
but it will IMMEDIATELY OCCUR to the reader, that if
it pr<-ejisted only one day or one hour, before it was m->
fused into the body, it r tally prte-evisted as much, though
not so long, as if it had been from eternity. .And the
whole design o/ Cudworth is to shew, that the Ancients
held the soul to be immortal. FOR this reason amongst
others, that it was not propagated with the body, and
therefore could not be corrupted K ith it ; but was a dis-
* Div. Leg. Book III. 4*
i86 REMARKS ON TILLARD.
thief substance from it, for that it pr<e-existed, or teas
mack before it, as he proves from a passage of Aristotle.
Therefore the doctrine of prce-cxistence does not in the
least prove the soul to be eternal a parte ante ; much less
that it was discerpcd or torn from God in a literal sense.
pp. 65, 66. Pity me, reader ! who am forced into a
controversy with an Advocate of old philosophy , who has
not yet so much as learnt his first elements either in the
old or new. Why, thou mighty man of law ! if the An
cients were to prove (as in this case you own they w r ere)
that the soul was eternal a parte post by an argument
taken from its prcc-cxistence, and that it was an ac
knowledged principle (as we both agree it was) that
whatsoever was generated could not be proved to be incor
ruptible^ must not by that pnc-existence be meant an
eternal pras-existence ? For if there were a time when the
soul was generated, though many millions of years before
its entrance into the body, it could not be proved to be
eternal a part t post . The acknowledged principle, that
whatever was generated could not be proved to be incor
ruptible, forbidding that conclusion. For, the reader
must take notice, trfeir point was not to give an analogi
cal probability that the soul simply survived the body,
but a metaphysical demonstration that it would survive
for ever. And let him not imagine that our Advocate
has only mistaken the question, and argued right from
the wrong state of it. lie delivers it truly in these words,
The whole design of Cudworth is to shew, that the An
cients held the soul to be IMMORTAL. He wanted, we
see, no knowledge of the particular question ; all his
want w 7 as want of common apprehension. Yet Cud-
worth thought the argument so obvious, that no one, who
was fit to read his book, could possibly mistake in it :
and therefore contented himself in using pr<e -existence
simply, without adding eternal, as the argument neces
sarily determined the mode of the prce- existence. Yet
has he at length got a reader who is fairly able to mistake
him, and who, instead of being thankful for an explana
tion made, as it appears, for his peculiar use, will find
fault with his instructor, and not content with saying that
there is not one word in Cudworth, which expresses my
seme, wall add, that there is nothing that can with any
2 tolerable
REMARKS ON TILLARD. 187
tolerable propriety imply it. This he says; and yet
(what exceeds belief) he had but just before transcribed
these very words of Cudworth : THEY CLEARLY PER
CEIVING, THAT, IF IT WAS ONCE GRANTED THAT THE
SOUL WAS GENERATED, IT COULD NEVER BE PROVED,
BUT THAT IT MIGHT ALSO BE CORRUPTED. Now if
he would not see it. is he fit to write ? And, if he could
not, is he fit to be read r Who can be positive, after
this, that he ever saw Cudwortlis book, which concludes
the whole observation in these words: " The Totumor
" Compositum of a man or animal may be said to be
" generated and corrupted in regard of the union and
" disunion, conjunction and separation of those two
" parts, the soul and body. But the soul itself, accord-
" ing to these principles, is NEITHER A THING GENE-
" RABLE NOR CORRUPTIBLE*." Yet our Advocate tells
us, the whole design of Cudworth is to shew, that the
Ancients held the soul to be immortal, FOR this reason
amongst others, that it was not propagated with the
body, and therefore could not be corrupted with it.
Which is just as wise a reason as the following : The last
Lord Mayor of London will live a thousand years, FOR
this reason, amongst others, that he was in being before
his entrance on his office, and existed after his going out
of it. But he has all the way done wonders with his
FOR. I have taken upon me to dignify several of them
with capitals, for their eminent services. But the bold
humour of the English is, never to spare this particle.
On the contrary, the French, a wise people, when the
Royal Academy was founded for the advancement of
eloquence, with which reason had little to do, held a
solemn sessions for the extirpation of their FOR, CAR, as
an useless and dangerous word. And though, I think,
it escaped, and even survived the edict of J\ antes (not
withstanding all the mischief it had done the Catholic
cause) yet their prudent writers are extremely reserved
in the use of this and all other their illative particles.
Feu Gomberville (says one of their Dictionary writers)
haissoit le mot CAR, parce, disoit-il, quit venoit du Grec.
The late Gomberville hated the word CAR, because, as
he said, it came from the Greek. How happy for us,
* Intell, Syst. p. 39.
that
i88 REMARKS ON TILLARD.
that our FOR is differently descended, or we had lost
a great reasoner, who bears as thorough an antipathy to
Greek, as ever did Monsieur GombcrcMe I
He goes on, And if I may be allowed to argue in the
same way as Mr. Warburton. The Public, I believe,
will pardon him, let him begin when he will. Well, but
allow him to do what, however, we are never to expect
of him, to talk a little plain sense ; what then ? Why the
Ancients could not strictly believe this doctrine [that the
soul was part of Godj, because it is greatly INCONSIST
ENT with another well-known opinion amongst them, that
souk were linked to bodies for a punishment, or sent down
GS into a State of trial. Now for his reason FOR to
suppose in the gross seme, that pieces or parts of the ever
ferfect and supreme God were so served, is WHAT NO
ONE WILL IMAGINE THE PHILOSOPHERS CAPABLE OF.
pp. 66, 67. FOR is here again, as usual, on very des-^
perate service. He promises to shew the inconsistency
between two metaphysical opinions. What reader novr
but would expect a metaphysical reason ? Instead of that,
he puts us off with a moral one. No one will imagim
tht philosophers capable of holding both those opinions.
And to finish the absurdity, this is called arguing like
me, in an instance where I proved the meaning of a
metaphysical term by a metaphysical opinion. If I may
be allowed, says he, to argue in the same way as
Mr. Warburton.
2. But to be at a word with him and his philosophers
together. What both are CAPABLE OF we shall now
see. It is agreed that Pythagoras and Plato held that
souls were linked to bodies for a punishment, or sent down
as into a state of trial. Yet of this very PYTHAGORAS
Cicero speaks thus : Nam Pythagoras, qui censuit ani-
mum esse per naturam rentm omnem intentum <* com-
meantem ex quo nostri animi CARPERENTUR, non vidit
distractione humanorum animorum DISCERPI LT LACE-
HA in DEUM. Of PL A TO and his followers, Arnobius
speaks thus: Ipse denique animus qui IMMORTALIS a
vobis $ DEUS ESSE NAiuiATUR, cur in JEgris tfger sit,
in infantibus stolidus, in sencctute defessus? Ddira 8$
fatua 8$ insana I Here we see what two great writers of
antiquity thought the philosophers capable of. Was he
ignorant
REMARKS ON TILLARD. 189
Smorant of this? No ; I had quoted them in the dis
course he pretends to confute *. Did he attempt to con
fute them ? No ; nor a great number more to the same
purpose, unless this may be called a confutation, And
we may observe, that SOME of his authorities to prove
this are exceedingly strained, and, as himself acknowledges
more than once? are otherwise understood by learned men*
SOME ? What then are the rest ? But as to these some,
does he prove what he says ? Yes : And how ? By quot
ing my acknowledgment, th&t.they are differently under
stood by learned men. And now, reader ! What dost
thou imagine our Advocate capable of?
X. He goes on. And because the philosophers, speak
ing of the soul, often call it the image of God, divine and
immortal, &c. he would lead the reader, from such expres
sions, unwarily to imagine, that it was literally a part of
God, eternal a parte ante, the same as the soul of the
world, &c. But I hope to make the contrary appear by
some plain testimonies of antiquity : and the first I shall
produce is one Mr. W. himself has helped me to, and u
from Stobasus, where Speusippus, one of Plato s follow
ers, says, " that the mind was neither the same with the
" One or the Good, but had a peculiar nature oj its own?
This, Mr. W, owns, expressly contradicts what he asserted
of Plato s holding the soul to be part of God; but he
says that " Stobseus and the learned Stanley were both
" mistaken in thinking Speusippus spoke of the human
" mind, whereas, says he, it relates to the third person in
" the trinity." Now supposing we take Mr. Warburtoas
judgment before that of Stobseus or Stanley, we may still
fairly conclude, that if even the third person in the
trinity was not the same as God, but had a peculiar nature
of his own, much less was the soul of man the same ; but
that it had a distinct nature likewise, pp. 67, 68. He
would lead, says he, the reader by such expression
unwarily to imagine, that it was literally a part of God,
Hear, then, by what kind of expressions I would mislead
the unwary reader. A natura Deonim ( says Cicero) ni
doctissimis sapientissimisque placuit, hausfos animos 8$
UbatQ$ habemus, And again, Humanus autem animus
* Di*, Leg, Book III. 4*
decerptui
REMARKS ON TlLLARD.
decerptus e,v mente divina, cum alio nullo nisi cum ipso
Deo compel rari potest *. He will not dispute whether
Stobxus and Stanley, or I, be in the right. lie does
well. But then he says, We may still FAIRLY cox-
CLUDE, that if even the third person in the trinity was
not the same as God, but had a peculiar nature of his own,
much less was the soul of man the same; but that it had
a distinct nature likewise. Such a concluder would have
made Aristotle forswear syllogism. In the first volume
of tiie Divine Legation f he saw these words : " Again,
u the rnaintainers of the immateriality of the Divine
" Substance were likewise divided into two parties; the
" first of which held but one person in the Godhead; the
Bother too or three. So THAT AS THE FORMER BE-
sc LIEVED THE SOUL TO BE PART OF THE SUPREME
" GOD; THE LATTER BELIEVED IT TO BE PART ONLY
" OF THE SECOND OR THIRD 1IYPOSTASIS." What is
to be done with this prevaricator ? Will he plead guilty,
to have the benefit of his clergy? Or will he own he
could not read, and so stand upon his defence? " You
c< may complain (I hear him say) but whose fault is it ?
" You had put this passage amongst your nice distinc-
" tions, divisions, and subdivisions : and those I was not
" obliged to take notice of, after having so fairly given
" you warning that I passed over all such, as needless
" curiosities. 1
But I begin to be quite weary of my Advocate ; I am
drawing towards a conclusion Math him, and will dispatch
him with all possible expedition. What follows w^on t
stay us long. As to the passage which he quotes from
M. Antoninus, it is nothing more than an exhortation, to
consider what will become of the soul when it is disunited
or separated from the body : and though Mr. W. makes
him to speak of its being resolved into the anima mundi ;
yet he owns at the same time, that neither Gataker in his
notes, or Casaubon, had any notion that the doctrine of
refusion was here alluded to. p. 68. Gataker and Ca-
saubon did not understand it in my sense. Does he
pretend to say I understand it wrong ? He pretends to
know nothing of the matter : so I leave it to those who
do. For I should have a strange love for answering, if
* Div. Leg, Book III. 4. f Ibid.
I gave
REMARKS ON TILLARD. 191
I gave this any other reply than Antoninuss own words:
" [To die] is not only according to the course of Nature,
" but of great use to it. [We should consider] how
" closely Man is united to the Godhead, and in what
" part of him that union resides ; and what will be the
" condition of that part or portion of it when it is
" resolved [into t\\e"amma mimdi\*"
The next authority (says he) I shall produce, Is from
PLOT IN us, ic ho tells us that the soul is from God; and
therefore necessarily loves him, yet it is a different
existence from him. Here again he plays his old trick
upon us. PlotinuSy a philosopher deep in the times of
Christianity. I have trie>i in vain to make him under*
stand. 1 will try now if I can make him blush ; while
he forces me to repeat, for the second time, the following
words of the Divine Legation. " Such was the general
t( doctrine on this point" [namely, that the soul was
God, or part of God] before the coming of Christianity ;
" but then those philosophers, who held out against its
" truth, after some time new-modelled both their philo-
" sophy and religion ; making their philosophy more
" religious, and their religion more philosophical. So,
" amongst the many improvements of Paganism, THE
" SOFTENING THIS DOCTRINE WAS ONE. The modern
" Platonists confining the notion of the souCs being part
" of the divine substance, to that of brutes. And it i$
" remarkable that then, and not till then, the philoso-
" phers began really to believe the doctrine of a future
" state t." How true this is, we may see by this very
quotation from Plot-inns. And one of common appre
hension would have seen, by his words, yet it is a dif
ferent existence from him, that tins was an innovation in
philosophy. For were it not the common opinion, that
the soul was of the same existence with God, or part of
him, this caution and explanation had been impertinent.
However, he goes on unmercifully to shew the orthodoxy
of Piotinus, and of his commentator Ficinus, in this
point : Where speaking I don t know what, nor why, of
the Wg et&titoe soul, he takes an opportunity to criticise a
passage I brought from Plutarch, Of this soul [namely
the vegetative] it is of which Plutarch manifestly sfe&fa,
, * Div, Ug. Book III. 4, t Ibid,
where
REMARKS ON TILLARD.
where he says, " that Pythagoras and Plato held the soul
" to be immortal ; for that launching out into the soul of
" the universe, it returned to its parent and original."
THAT THIS MUST BE INTENDED OF THE VEGETATIVE
SOUL is PLAIN, from his mentioning two other souls
from the same authorities, immediately after, in a quite
different light. " Pythagoras and Plato, says he, hold
" that the rational soul is immortal , for that this soul is
" not God, but the workmanship of the Eternal God;
* and it is the irrational soul which is mortal and cor-
" ruptible" So that unless we can suppose Plutarch in
tended to make Pythagoras and Plato contradict them
selves, we must conclude their opinions in this passage to
be, that the vegetative soul was diffused into the life of
the universe ; that the sensitive or irrational soul was
mortal and corruptible ; and that the rational soul was a
distinct existence made by God. But this last part is
not at all taken notice of by Mr. Warburton, though in
the very same paragraph with the first which he quotes.
pp. 70, 71.
1. Unless we can suppose (says he) Plutarch intended
to make Pythagoras and Plato contradict themselves.
Suppose, Quotha ! Did he never hear that this Plutarch
wrote an express treatise on the Contradictions of the
Stoics ? A sect of as good a house as either Pythagoras
or Plato. Will he never see, that if the philosophers
had a double doctrine, which he has laboured to prove,
they must perpetually contradict themselves ? But our
Advocate is so captivated a lover (Pref. p. v) so ena
moured of his dear philosophers, that the very air of a
contradiction shocks him.
2. Well then, not to disgust the delicacy of a lover, I
will humour him. It shall be no contradiction ; nor will
I suppose Plutarch such a brutal as to insinuate any thing
so gross. But now, if, like a true inamorato, he will not
suffer them to be defended by any hand Jbut his own,
then we shall begin to differ. He tells us that when
Plutarch says Pythagoras and Plato held the soul to be
immortal, IT is PLAIN THIS MUST BE INTENDED OF
THE VEGETATIVE SOUL. An immortal vegetative soul!
Tis a prodigy that deserves an expiation. But to know
whether Plutarch or our Advocate be the real father of
this
REMARKS ON TILLARD. 193
this monster, it will be necessary to transcribe the whole
chapter: " Pythagoras and Plato held the soul to be
" immortal ; for that lanching out into the soul of the
" universe, it returns to its parent and original. The
"Stoics say, that on its leaving the body, the more infirm
" (that is, the soul of the ignorant) suffers the lot of the
" body : But the more vigorous (that Av, the soul of the
" 7riseJ endures to the conflagration. Democritus and
" Epicurus say the soul is mortal, and perishes with the
" body: Pythagoras and Plato., that the reasonable soul
" is uncorrupt (for it is to be observed, the soul /.y not
<c God, but the workmanship of the Eternal God) and
" the irrational mortal/
icrai/ ruv
rr,v pv trgcty [ TOO:
7T?C\ TKS <T0^5iJ, xj [AtftOl TV f JC7TUpW7-W?-.
(KAI TAP TTI
rz ctijtx $2 UTrapp/siv) TO J E aAoyoi/, (pfyzfloy. lltci TWV
TOK $>*A. Bt^A. (T. K. . Mere we see, the soul first
mentioned, and said to be immortal, and to lanch out
into the soul of the universe, was the same which the
Stoics held to endure, when it had been in their wise man,
till the conflagration ; was the same which Detxocritiwaiid
Epicurus held to be mortal. And was this the VL:G I:TATI v i:
soul ? .How hard has the world dealt. with DeimerUjtsand
Epicurus for twenty round ages, only for holding that
the I e.g eldlrct soul was mortal ! A very reasonable
opinion, had there been any wgctatirc sou I at all. But
what, then must we say to the contradiction, which I have
promised to remove, and which seems now quite fixed,
since we have evaporated this spirit of vegetative immor
tality ^ from the passage? The plain solution of the diffi
culty is this : When Plutarch had mentioned the impious
notion of the soul s mortality, first started by Democritus
and Epicurus, lie opposes it by that of Pythagoras and
Plato, lie had told us before, that these held the soul
to be immortal : But now, using their authority to con
fute the other tzco, he, like a judicious writer, explains
it with more exactness. He tells us. that Pythagoras
VOL. XL O and,
i(>4 REMARKS ON TILLARD,
and Plato held the reasonable soul to be immortal, the
irrational mortal. When, in the beginning of the chapter,
he had said, they htki the soul to be iinmorttd, he added
ii. .ir reason, fur that lanching out, Sec. TAP 1; TO T*
-sraflos, e. Now here, in the conclusion, mentioning
again the same dogma, he adds his own, For it is to be
observed the soul is not God, c. XAI TAP tr& tj/y^v, c.
Tor Plutarch had, with the rest of the philosophers of
the Christian times, refined his notions on this matter :
They said, the soul was immortal, because it was related
to the soul of the universe; He .said, it was immortal^
because it was the work oj God. Henri} Stephens, who,
it seems probable, saw this was Plutarch* s, and not
P<ythdgor.a$& or Plato s philosophy, makes the words
fefvyaf TXJ/ $&%i* $fw #AAa ta d iMn 3"a VJTA^^HV) a pa
renthesis, as he does raurui/ J^ */&* irSw cHiroitfyuTuv) and a&
he should have done ofa If! qr^I TC o-o?*f ; both which are
the explanatory remarks of Plutarch. And now it is to
be hoped our Advocate sees why this last part was not
at all taken notice of by Mr. Warburton though in. the
very same paragraph with the Jirst which he quoted
But what does he now see of his contradiction?
We have said what it was that induced Plutarch to
interfere with his own opinion in this matter. The very
same concern for the orthodoxy of old Pagan philosophy
(then to be opposed to Christianity) that now seems to
distress our Advocate. The very same that made Pfatwus
cry out, as above, Thx sou! neGessarily lores Gcd, yet /.y
a different wistetWGjropi him. And this will account for
JPlubircfis labouring so mud) as he does, in the place
quoted by our Advocate, at his 7.5th page, to free pjifto
from tiie charge of making the soul eternal and uncreated.
For a charge, it seems, it was, and a heavy one too,
upon him. Now where Pluiarch performs the faithful
office of an historian, in delivnug us the plaeits of the
old philosophers, there, we see, ho owns both Pytha
goras and Plato held this opinion ; but here, where he
acts the Advocate^ 1 mean of old Pagan philosophy, he.
endeavours to distinguish .away the accusation. Thus at
length- we see the contradiction lies at Plutarch s door;
wiiieh will require more than a vegetative umnorlality t>
remove : Leg-iildo dig-mts vindice rwdus.
These
REMARKS ON TILLARIX 195
: A Tiiese three passages, from Stobceu-s, M. Antoninus*
and Plutarch^ are the only three of the great number I
brought to prove the Greek philosophers held the soul to
be part of God, which our Advocate has ventured to
undertake. These he thought he could manage : And
envy must own he has acquitted himself to admiration.
XI. But that Plato was orthodox in this point, he will
now shew from Plato himself. And that this was Plato s
opinion (says he) concerning the human rational soul, 1
shall further prove from \iimdf. In one place he says,
" ffo have spoke most truly in asserting the soul was
" made before the body, and the body in the second place,
" and after the soul, forasmuch as the governing part
" ought in point of time to be created before that which
" is governed" pp. 71, 72. Where says he this? Where
think you but in the old place, his Book of Laws? It is
an odd fancy this, in our Advocate, to go so continually
to a Book of Laws for Plato s religious sentiments. Law
and Gospel, let me tell him, agreed no better formerly
than they do now. But he must needs go as his index
led him. Which in this road always points exoterically*
Let us follow him then into his warehouse of Laws.
Here, to our great surprise, we find, that Plato is not
speaking of the origin of the human rational soul, but of
a very different thing. This tenth Book of Laws, from
whence he takes his quotation, is employed to prove the
Being of a God against Atheism. One of his arguments,
for an eternal mind, is, That that is the first efficient
Cause which moves itself and all other things. But MIND
moves itself and all other things : Therefore MIND is the
first efficient. Hence, in the words of the quotation, it
is inferred, That the soul was before the body, Vvyv* pi*
TJrjplsf&v ytfovwzi fund* r ^iV And farther, that there is
one general Soul or Alind, that governs the universe,
EJ/ aaff-i T0 tv&vn XiMffAfcWf qiAuv x rait
civ uypii hoiKitv QottoH ; Now, who sees not that it
Plato s business here, to shew only in the abstract,
that mind was prior to body ; and altogether beside his
purpose to speak of the origin of the human soul ? Yet
our Advocate, misled by the Latin translator, and un*-
aided by any discernment of his own, makes Plato s
words relate to the creation of the soul That the soul
O a
REMARKS ON TILLAUD.
s MADE before the body ; aninuim ante corpus F
fume. But Plato in his Epinomis, referring to this very
place, explains the meaning in these words : That veer if
soul is elder than even/ body ; on srp<rvTEGv w ^XP
<rwpot\& 3 Kiracnx, Txaflcq. Yet was this passage so far from
helping our Advocate to the true sense of his quotation,
that he even refers to it for the confirmation of his mis
take. All therefore that Plato s argument required was.
to prove, that w/w/was before body. But had lie thought
proper to digress about the origin of the soul, he must
needs have made it ungcnerQtedj from a principle he lays
down in this very place, namely, That the MO til zcax a
To laJ?
for a self -moving and an eternal-moving substance were
the same thing amongst the Ancients. So Plutarch tells
us, that Tliales was tliejirs t zcho tauglit the wid to he an
oi big OR self-niopbig nature, OaAri?
Our Advocate goes on with his Plato: In another
-place (says he) GW, r///cv m tuning made the ANC;ELS, / ->
introduced as deircenng them materials to Jorrn man
and other animals, and as speaking to fKem In tlua
manner: " (io to then, turn yourself to the formation
" of animate, according to the tops of mil u re, arid imitate
u that efficacious pcicer u hich / myself uwd in your
tl product in ; and *i nee they tdll be created as it zee re
* : Jfellaw-citi$cns zclth yourwkc.^ they shall be esteemed
u of d rcine e.rfracl, and until hare dominiQn onr all
" other creatures* p. 72.
i. God, after furcing made the AXOF.IS (say he).
Would the reader know what sort of angels he has here
to do with ? Our Advocate is silent. But honest Plato
tells us their names : Saturn, Rhea, Jupiter, Juno, and
the rest of the Pagan Gods and Demons, n^l & *
J7TiV - F"/lf T X^ OJ#i 5 "ST &? *$ "Xlxfftltf; T Xy
IK TZTUV $1, $cxuj T xj K x^ 5 xj P=", &C.
But if philosophers are to pass fov apostles, why may not
Heathen Gods stand for angels? Of these holy a r gals ^
Plato says it would be impiety not to believe what the
ancient Mythologists taught concerning them, IIEIITEON
"-Plat Phil. 1.4. c. 2.
it
REMARKS ON TILLARD. 197
>/ rt 9 t \ C\ ** *f * >/
IV jU7T^O(T7lV, EXyoVOK ^UEl/ J SWI/ a<7JJ/ W? Ei^aff aV ,
5J<{ TJif aUTiOJ/ 7j3 pO f yGV2$ fiO&CTiV* OLOVVOLIOV &V 3"WV T&MIG W
Dein^ now in the humour, he tells us, that when
God treated souls, he disposed them amongst the stars :
isaVunarftif ix.ot.rQv That they suiiered transmigi c;iwn into
ETt
VC-W?, fff
K QVG-IV. And is not this a likely place to tind
Plato s real sentiments concerning the soul ?
2. But what do \ve talk of his real sentiments? The
book, from whence our Advocate brings this passage,
contains not Plato s sentiments at all, but another Man s,
one TiuKt its Locru.s, of whose hook, ck Anima ^lundi,
this work of Plato is a Comment. r lhe passage ii>
question, particularly, being a paraphrase on these words
of TimtfUS, MET A $1 roiv TO; XOO-/AW fl-Jr<r*v, ( C.*
But our Advocate, now grievously beiuircd, yet floun
ders on. Ami a ^rain PLATO MUCH TO THE SAME PUR
POSE SAYS, " -.that ajter God had jormed the ivorld, he
" allotted the human- -soul to he disposed oj by A aturc, as
" his vicegerent^ c. p. 73. Can the reader now guess
whither we are sent to look for these words ? To 3 Plot*
99 1). which fairly brings us a mile beyond Plato, to a
treatise of Timaus LOOMS, intitled, l)e Amma Mu)ul\.
The swallow ing Sigojiius for Cicero was a trifle to this
exploit Here he saw writ in fair Lathi characters, over
the page, Tiiiiai Locri de Amma j\Iundi. If one did
not know him, one should take him to be of the humour
of that critic, who had a great mind that erery thing
that icas good xhc.uUl he his Jarain ite authors. But he
was puzzled with the two titles. One was, the Tim a us of
Plato; the other, the Amma Mundi oj Tinunis. This
was the deep problem of the Ilorxe-niitl, and Mill-horse:
but the best of the story is, he here again (as in the
former case of the llaok oj - Law and Ephiowii) brings
these words QiThmcius to coniirm his sense of the fore
going quotation from the Timam of Plato; and says,
as well he might, VM; -much to the same purpose. This I
remark to the honour of his penetration. For though
* Plato Serr. Vol. III. p. 99.
ig8 REMARKS ON TILLARD.
he did "not know one was the text, and the other the
comment, yet he found out hy mere dint of sagacity,
that they were very near akin. And this is all the fruit
of his Platonic journey. Unhappy Advocate ! What
a progress hast thou made ! from Plato nothing to the
purpose, to no Plato at all ! But we had best stop
here, lest the next quotation should be from Nobody.
And indeed tis next to nobody ; tis from Apuleius, a
writer in the Christian times. A trick, now too stale
^ven to laugh at.
We are come at last to our Advocate s peroration. And
to say the truth, it was time for him to have done. There
fore, after all this (says he) Mr. Warburton need not any
longer admire, $c. No, truly, he IMS eased me of this
passion. The admiring at a free-thinker. It is very
true, that some few expressions now and then may be
found in the writings of the philosophers, as, that the soul
is a part of God ; comes from God , is discerped from
him-, is a ray of the divinity; is one with God, fyc.
if taken in a strict literal sense, might in some measure
answer Mr. Warburton s purpose: BUT WHEN THE
LITERAL SENSE is PLAINLY ABSURD, and the contrary
maintained by a multitude of clear expressions, we (f
course understand them FIGURATIVELY, pp. 75, 76.
Without doubt. So that when we are told Epicurus
held the sun and moon to be no bigger than they seem ;
Pyrro, that nothing could be known; and Zeno, that all
crimes were equal; the literal sense being plainly absurd ;
we must believe nothing of the matter. But as he hath
talked of tliejigurathe terms of a language, in which he
understands no terms at all, he should now learn to hold
his tongue, and hearken to his teachers. The great
Gassendi was incomparably the best versed in ancient
Greek philosophy of any man in these latter ages, and
he never dreniiit of this more than Jig it rat we lolly of our
Advocate. He knew the Greek and Latin expressions
would bear no such interpretation : and therefore tells us
roundly, that there was scarce an ancient philosopher,
who was not what we now call a Spino&st. " Interim
" (says he) tamen vix VLLifoere ((juce humane mentis
" caligo, utqiic imbtciliitas est) qui non inciderint in
* error em ilium de KEFUSJOXE IN A KIM AM MUNDI.
REMARKS ON TILLARDi 199
* Nimirum, siait existiinantnt SIXGUI.ORUM AN i MAS
" PAUTICULAS ESSE AXIM.E MUtfDAXJE, qUJi lMl qittf-
4i libct suo corj)ort\ nt aqua vase, includeretur ; it a 8$ re-
" put ar lint unamqu unique Gniniarn, cor pore dissoluto^
"quasi d/ffracto rase, efllucrc, ac ANIM.E MUNDI E
"" QUA DEDUCTA FUERIT, 1TERUM UMHI*."
And now, after aJl that has passed between us, I may
be allowed at parting to ask my nameless adversary what
he is? His betters, when ciiey went incognito, have beeri
thus questioned, and without offence. The great Pytha
goras himself was asked it; and his ansv.er will fit our
Advocate as if it had been made for him. And that he
may not be forced to descend from his present dignity of
quotation, I will press him no farther, but suppose he
gives an inquirer this, that his ancient master made to Leon,
prince of the Phliasians, who asked him what he was,
ART (says he) I know none; but lama PHiLOsopiiEir|V
XII. Let us conclude with a general view of our
Advocates performances. He will write against the
Third Booh irj * the Divine Legation of Moses: but pro
poses only to .consider what in .tils apprehension affects
the argument Yet of this little, tor iris apprehension is
not ihuclij lie has not considered one tenth, part. J. -\d
how that abounds in all kind of julsc reu^oni ii 1 .^ and
abmrd quotation, \\-je have given the reader a kind of
specimen. But to make amends for an imperfect repre
sentation, he may be p Least a to take notice, that, besides
all particular local graces, there are FOUR GENERAL
FALLACIES, that run throughout this noble work. Two
in point of quotation, two of reasoning,
1. The first is in quoting poets, or any body, instead
of philosophers.
2. The second in quoting philosophers after Christ.
3. The third in urging exoteric doctrines for esoteric.
4. And the fourth in concluding from what was said of
fulse gods, to what they thought of the true,
I call these by the knavish lit-.c the schools of philosophy
have given them, which, like the courts of luw^ make no
* Div. Leg. Vol. ill. p. 156.
t A item (juidem se scire nullam ; sed jesse philosophum. Cic Tus^.
Disp. 1, $. c. 3,
4 provision
200 REMARKS ON TILLARD:
provision for fools : but, upon my word, I am net satisfied
whether they be not very honest blunder^. However, he
lias now his choice to call them \\hat he will, so he no
longer pretend to call them argument.
liis first Chapter, as I said, is the only one with Mhich
I am concerned. \Y\sscccnd is intided, r l he Opinions of
the Philosophers concerning a future State. It is made
up of some six-dozen of ill-chosen quotations, \vhieli so
amazed him that he could not forbear saying on the
entrance to his labour, It scans very surprising, notu ith-
standing cdl the following authorities, and many more
which no doubt this learned gentleman must have met
with to the contrary, that lie should thus speak of the
phi losop tiers: " I have examined their writings with all
" the exactness 1 was able, and it appears evident to me
" that these men believed nothing of a Juture state of
" rewards and punishments, which they most industrious (if
"propagated in society" p. 2. By this time, I suppose,
I have eased him of his surprise : so that we are now
even by a reciprocal cure. In one point however he is
right. lie supposes I could have furnished him with
many more authorities^ I couid, 111 assure him : more
than with six hundred to his six dozen. But it is pleasant
to observe, in this chapter of quotations, with what judg
ment he brings in three Epicureans, Ilrgil, Luelan, and
( cfsus, to bear witness to a future state of rewards and
punishments, who without doubt believed what they said.
Honest Celtus, cries out, under the mask and in the tone
of a modern free-thinker, God J or bid, that either they,
or _/, or any man firing, should endeavour to subvert the
belief of a future state of rewards and punishments, p. if>2.
AVho, when he hears this, can forbear concluding with our
Advocate I say, when a man talks in this manner, it is
hardly possible act to imagine him in earnest, p. 82.
I call this his chapter of quotations. It is its proper
title: it is made up of them, and a jolly company they
are, but so transceudentiy chosen and translated, that
some time or other it may chance to become as famous
as Scarron s chapter of Horse-JMters, which once,
indeed, on a time met together because they were forced;
but, for ail that, each of them, while in the disposal of their
owners, was taking a different road. At present I shall
only
REMARKS ON TILLARD. 201
only desire the reader to observe, that the three Jirst of
the four general sophisms shine throughout this chapter
w ith a distinguished lustre.
lie has two more chapters upon something or other;
and then concludes with a pastoral-letter to the free
thinkers, (Jt SOB nil ad everltndam rempubllcam Chris*
tlanam acccderent.
Thus it hath been my fortune to displease the bigots
on both sides. I make no question, but the impartial
reader will be ready to congratulate with me on so fair
an appeai ance of being in the rio;ht.
As for this fantastic zealot in tiie cause of Paganism,
I have used him, it is true, with little ceremony. Let
the reader judge, if he deserved more. I had put my
name to what I wrote, and he attacks me in secret. Had
either I concealed mine, or he told his, he might then
haye expected (if on other accounts he had a right to it)
what the usual commerce of civility demands between
people upon equal terms: but writing without a name,
in the manner he has done, is least of all excusable.
Por, when a man s person or reputation is attacked, I
know little difference between the ruffian, and the writer,
in the dark.
I may be the rather allowed to speak freely on this
head, because I never yet wrote against any book or
author, whatsoever, any farther than occasional reflections
on particular questions, which no one can avoid who
treats of subjects like tbose I am engaged in. Once
indeed, and but once, I took upon myself the honour of
defending a sublime genius against the cavils of an inju
rious pedant. But an attack by anszcer, remarks, con-
filiation, or any of the formal apparatus of literary
assault, I never made on any author whatsoever. To
say the truth, I prize my ease and quiet at too high
a rate, to hazard them in the vain or Interested employ
ment of discrediting any popular or party writer whatso
ever. Nee qulsijuam noceat cwpldo imhl pads !
I should now, perhaps, crave pardon of the severer
reader, for the levitied that have escaped me both here
and in the Preface. But if he that loses may have leave
to speak, sure he that s libelFd though he loses nothing,
may have leave to laugh. And what else was to be done
with
202 REMARKS ON TILLARD.
with my doctor and student ? who, whether they railed or
reasoned, how much soever in their own professions, were
still on the wrong side common sense and common
honesty. For they have managed things so well, that the
one has lost his reasoning in the study of the law, and the
other his chanty in defence of the gospel. Besides, on
some occasions, what mortal can forbear? Who would
have suspected our solemn tragic doctor for a risible
animal ? Yet there are seasons, when his own blunders
dispose him to he jocular, and he irreverently aims at wit
xvith the face of an Irish inquisitor f.
In conclusion, If any man (to use the words of a great
writer) EQUAL TO THE MATTER*, shall think it apper
tains him to take in hand this con rorcrzy, cithtr ex
cepting against aught written, or persuaded he can shew
heller how this question may receive a true determination;
if his intents be sincere to the public, and shall carry him
on without BITTERNESS to the OPINION or to the PERSON
dissenting, let him not, I intreat him, guess by the hand
ling which meritoriously hath been bestowed on these
Objects oj contempt and laughter, that I account it any
displeasure done to me to be centra dieted in print : But as
it leads to the attainment of any thing more true, shall
esteem it a benefit , and shall know how to return his
CIVILITY and FAIR ARGUMENT in such sort, as he shall
confess that to do so is my choice^ and to have done thux
was my chance.
* See the Weekly Miscellany throughout.
f Mr. Chubb, I am told, has addressed something or other to me
at the end of his late Discourse on Miracles. 1 suppose he only wants
jny acknowledgments ; and he shall have them : For the reason
above shews why I must always decline his kind overtures of farther
acquaintance. I confess then he is a very extraordinary person : and
think he may say with the subtil peasant in Molicre Oui, si j avois
tudKvj auroiii vie songer,a. des choses ou Ton n a jamais songe.
[ 203 ]
POSTSCRIPT
TO
THE REMARKS;
In Answer to some OBJECTIONS of
DR. SYKE&
TO put things of a sort together, I shall take this
occasion to pay my respects to the Author of the Prin
ciples and C onned ion of Natural and Revealed Religion*,
who has honoured me, in passing, with a couple of
random reflections. A kind of fatality seems to attend
these gentlemen ; who, when I lie so open to them, have
still the luck to offer at me in the wrong place.
In his 399th page he has these words: " It is .not of
" any moment to enter further into what philosophers
" have said, when they attempt to account for the soul s
" eternity. Common sense taught them, that real proper
" punishments were inflicted upon men for sins. Who
" can read Plato s Gorgias (which is not ranked amongst
" the esoterics by a late Writer, in which alone the
" doctrine of a future state of rewards and punishments,
" he thinks, are [is] detailed out) ; who can read that,
" and conceive that Plato did not really believe a state
" of future punishments and rewards? When he had
" professed at large, how wicked men are punished,
" and how good men are rewarded in a future state,
" he declares That to be Ids full persuasion., and
"jrom thence it was, that he endeavoured to appear
" btjore his Judge having a most pure soul. And
"if they imagined men to be punished for sin, and
" rewarded J or virtue, even supposing this was talked
" ol in a way that might be proved fabulous, yet the
"doctrine itself was unshaken. Suppose the fables of
" Acheron, and Sryv, and Cocijtus, and Etysian Fields,
(t mav be all demonstrated to be false ; yet it does not
* Arthur Ashley Sjkes, JD.D,
" follow,
1*04 REMARKS ON SYKES.
" follow, that the tiling conveyed under these words
" \vere [was] believed to be all false. It does not follow
" that souls were believed to die, or to be uneapable of
<; receiving punishments or rewards.: hut only that this
" manner of representing them is false." p. 400. These
are his words ; and they deserve to be well considered.
It is not of (iny moment (he says) to enter further
into ichat philosophers haw said, ichen they attempt to
account Jar the soul * KTERXITY. I thought it of great
moment. I am sure I found it of great diiiiculty. And
if I have ill explained what the philosophers meant hij
the soul s eternity, one reason \vas, that I wanted more
helps than antiquity would -afford me. But it is the
privilege of veteran disputers, to icant nothing but willing
hearers. But why will he enter -no further, wlien he
goes out of his way to pay me this visit?
Because common .sense (he says) taught them, that real
proper punishment* zccrc inflicted upon men for sins.
I have shewn iromjact that common sense did not teach
them. No matter : he will prove from reason that it
uid. His argument is plain and simple. Common sense
might teach them: therefore common sense did teach
them. This it is to be a practised disputant. It is
but knowing what common sense might teach, and
he will presently tell you, by his scale of logic, what it
did. By the same way, 1 make no doubt, he could
prove that the Epicureans believed a Providence; the
Stoics inequality of crimes; and the Pijrrhonians the
certainty of truth. lie has only to shew that cowman
xense taught t IK-HI, or was ready to teach them; and we
have only to believe, that they were as ready to learn. I
had myself a kind of guess, that common sense, might
have iaitght the philosophers thai real proper punishments
scere inflicted upon men jcr sins] and had I known no
more of antiquity than this Writer has entered into, tis
ten to one but I had concluded as he does, that eomn.cn
senxe did teach them. Though hardly, I think, after
another had clearly she^n the contrary from antiquity.
However, the reader may not be displeased to hear how
much I gave to common sense in the imroduction to my
discourse on the philosophers. These were my words : ~
" It will be proper to premise, that the constitution of
6 " the
REMARKS ON SYKKS. 205
* the Greek philosophy bein. above measure refined and
" speculative, it always used to be determined by mcta-
" physical rather than moral- principles ; and to stick to
<; all consequences, how absurd soever, that were seen to
" arise from such principles. Of this we have a famous
" instance in the ancient dewocritic philosophy, H$c. So
i: well supported, we see, is that censure which a ceie-
" brated French writer passes upon them : Whtn th&
" philosophers once bewt themzclccs with a prejudice^
" they are crcn more incurable than the people them-
" stk es: because, they hc.sot themwhes nat only :citti the
"prejudice, but id ill the fake rcawii uig employed o
" support it. The reverence and regard toWMpkymtft
" principles being so grca*. we shall see, that the Greek
" philosophers nr.st of necessity. reject the doctrine of a
^ future state of rewards and punishments, how main*
" irrcincible. moral ar^umc-nts soever there, really be in
" support of it, when we come to shew, that there UCIM
" two metaphysical principles concerning God and the
" soul, universally embraced by all, which necessarily
" exclude all notion of a future state of reward and
u punishment *."
In the conclusion I repeat the same observation in the
following words : " These two errors in the metaphy-
" sical speculations of the philosophers, concerning the
" nature of (Jod and of tiie soul, were what necessarily
" kept them from giving credit to a doctrine highly pro-
* bable in itself, and rendered so even by themselves,
" from many moral considerations, perpetually preached
" up to the people. But, as we observed before, it was
" their ill fate to be determined, in their opinions, rather
" by meta]>hijxif:al than moral arguments. This is seen
" by comparing the belief and conduct of SOCRATES
<; \\ith the rest. He was sin^-.iUir in confining himself to
" the studv of moruiitii, and as singular in bclirchw- the
- ^ o
" doctrine of a iuture state of rewai d and punishment.
" What could be the cause of this latter singularity but
" the former? Of which it was a natural consequence.
For, having thrown aside all other speculations, he had
" nothing to mislead hi n. Whereas the rest of the
i( philosophers applving themselves, with a kind of taua-
* 0)iv,-Leg. Btfokil!, 4.
" ticism,
2o6 REMARKS ON SYKES.
* ticisrn, to physics and metaphysics, had drawn a number
" of absurd, though subtile conclusions, that directly
v opposed the consequences of those moral arguments.
" And as it is common for parents to be fondest of their
" weakest and most deformed offspring, so these men, as
" we said, were always more swayed by their metaphy-
" sical than moral conclusions*/ Now this was all I
could, in conscience, allow to common sense, when anti
quity stood so direct v in my way.
But lest it should be said he had overlooked all fact,
he has thought n t to make the following observation :
Who can read Plato s Gorgias (which is not ranked
amongst the esoterics by a late Writer, in which alone
the doctrine of a future st at ecf rewards and punishments,
he thinks, is detailed out) ; who can read that, and con
ceive that Plato did not really believe, &c. The force of
this observation, the reader sees, lies in the parenthesis,
that I have not ranked the Gorgias of Plato amongst his
ejcot erics. But how, if this be ialse? Let the following
words of the Divhie Legation determine: " It is very
" true, that, in his writings, he [Plato] inculcates the
" doctrine of a future state of rewards and punishments;
" but this always in the grossest sense of the populace
** that the souls of ill men descended into asses or swine -
" that the uninitiated lay in mire and filth : that there
"were three judges of Hell; and talks much of Styv,
* e Cocytm, Acheron, &c. and all so seriously as shews he
" had a mind to be believed. But did he himself believe
" them ? We may be assured he did not|." Where, at
the word seriously, I expressly refer to the GORGIAS,
Phcedo, and Republic. Now, if the Ph<zdo and Republic
(as he will not deny) be of the exoteric kind, and I place
the Gorgias in the same class, is not this ranking the
Gorgias amongst the esoterics ? W T hat then was it that
could induce this Writer to say, I had not ranked it
there? Was it the following passage ? " But Albinus,
" an old Platonist, has, in some measure, supplied thip
" loss [namely, the loss of a treatise of Numeniu^
" concerning the secret doctrine of Plato] by his Intro-
" duction to the Dialogues of Plato. From whence it
" appears, that those very books, in which Plato details
* Div. Leg. Book III. 4. t Ibid. Book III. 3.
" OUt
REMARKS ON SYKES,
".out the doctrine of a future state of reward and punish-
" ment, are all of the esoteric kind. For in that class
" Albinus ranks the Criton, Phcedo, Minos, Symposium,
" Laws, Epistles, Epinomis, Menexenuj, Ctiioplwn, and
(( Philtbus*? It this were the passage, tis plain the
Writer mistook tiie latter part tor a formal list of Plato $
exoteric writings. But the very words might have taught
him better: (I only say that in that clem- Albinus ranks.
such and such tracts. N Especially if he had looked into
the discourse referred to: where he would have found
the reason why I expressed myself in that manner. And,
J don t use to w- itc at hazard, as htisty as he thinks rne.
Albinus, in his fifth section, divides Plato dialogues
into classes. Not into the two general ones of exoteric
and esoteric: but into the more minute, and different, of
natural, moral, dialectic, conjittaiire, civil, explorative,
obstetric, and subversive |. It will be asked then, how
I came to say, that Albinus ranked the Criton, Phccdo,:
Minos, Symposium, Laws, Epistles, Epinomis, jMcnexe-
iius, Clitophon and Pfyilebus, in the exoteric class ? For
this plain reason, he says they were all of the civil kinu.
And I hope I need not tell the learned reader, that all of
that kind were wot erica I. And now it is seen why I
might well suppose the Gorgias of the exoteric kind ; and
yet, why I could not use Albimts s authority for placing,
it with the rest: because it is evidently of the civil class,
and yet not ranked there by that old PlatonisJt. The
reason of his different assignment was this : The Gorgias
is a dialogue concerning the use and abuse of -rhetoric.
The Sophists had abused this art to pervert public justice,
and to amass wealth and power. They are here shevai
that its true use was to aid and inforce the laws, and to.
render the members of a community wiser and better.
Hence, in conclusion, the Author takes occasion to
inforce the practice of virtue from consideration of
future rewards and punishments : his usual manner, of
concluding his political discourses; the Gorgias being,
indeed, properly a supplement to the books~of~Law arid
* ,Piv. Leg. Book III. 3.
" "f TCJ f*lt (pv&txa, -TV $\ r ; 8iJw ra $1 Ao/Ixw, fa <5* IhtfiCUxy, ra :
roA/]*xw,Tw $\ *rtiMtruupjrt* el fuutvltxi** tie <& ir%ir}xw., Alb.
lotrod. in Plat. Dial. sect. 5. apud Fabr. Bibl, Onec. lib. 3. c. 2.
Republic:
REMARKS ON SYKES.
Republic: but it bein; at the same time altogether em
ployed in overturning the practice of the Soj)/iist$, \vas, I
suppose, the reason \vhy Albums thought it came more
naturally into that class which he calls mbrcrsrcc. This.
is a true account of the (Vuri vV/.v; as welFas of my plain
sentiments, concerning it, in the first volume of The
Divine Legation. And yet this Writer cries out, H r ho
can read the Gorgias, mid conceive that Plato did net
realty believe a future fit ate of rewards fftid ptjHisktit&lis?
Rather, let ine ask, Who that has read the Gorgias, can
talk at this rate ?
Well, but his reason : " When he [Plato] had pro-
< fessed at large, how wicked men are punished, and how
<c good men are rewarded in a future state, he declares
" that to be his full persuasion, and from thence it teas,
" that he endeavoured to appear before his Judge having
" a most pure soul" The original is, Eyu plv w,
TI10 TOTTftN TON . AOrilN
OTTO;?" ave^JtvKjUcifci TJI) Kpy wj
Here, we see, the Writer has sunk upon us the
important words wl TST&I- rtav Xoyw, upon which the
whole sentence turns. This could hardly be by
chance. The reasons of the omission are but too
evident. Eyw p\v !k 5 K*xxtx\w, TOO TOTTHN -TUN
AOmN TZiKturpzi, I am persuaded (says the speaker)
O t "at licks, o _\ r j- HE A u T 1 1 o u i T Y o F T n j : s E D o c in i x i: s .
Say you so? To understand then how fid I the persua
sion was, we riitist .consider what credibility these doe-
trivcfi had. Now he that reads the Gorphw will find,
that they consisted of a long fabulous account of the
Establishment of the three judges af Hell* : and of a
strange opinion, that the dead not only retained the visible
marks of the passions and affections of the soul, but
also the scars and blemishes of the body f. It was oa
the authority, therefore, of these -goodly doctrines, that
the speaker founds his belief: and what is more, -it was
to these doctrines that tiie very words, in which he
expresses this belief, allude: ATrctpawpai rw.KPITH,
relating to the infernal judges , and the TFIESTATHN
Ttv fyftv, the most sound or healthy soul, to its affections*
* Tom. I. p. 523. Ed. Serr. See Div. Leg. Book II. 4,
t Plato, ut supiii, tain. J. p. 5-24.--bce Div. Leg. as a.bove.
marks,
REMARKS ON SYKES. 209
marks and blemishes. The speaker therefore must pf
course believe a future state thus circumstanced, if he
believed any future state at all. Here is no room for
the Writer s evasion: who supposes the philosophers
might reject the fables of Acheron, and Styx, and Cocy-
tus, and Elysian Fields, and yet believe the thing con
veyed under these words. For here the belief of the
thing is expressly said to be built on the authority of
those /tfZfe : but those fables our Author gives up as not
really believed. By his favour therefore I would conclude
that the thing built upon them was not believed.
But as I little thought this Writer would have had the
better of me on the believing side, I will suppose, as he
does contrary to evidence, that the speaker did indeed
in this place deliver his real sentiments. Let us see now
what will come of it. He asks, Who can read the Gor-
gias, and conceive, that Plato did not really believe zcheii
he hasprofessedat large. So then ; the dispute between
us is, Whether "JPiA TO believed a future state of rewards
and punishments ? And, to prove that PLATO did, he
gives me a speech of SOCRATES. For unluckily what
he quotes for the words of Plato are the words of his
master ; who, I have endeavoured to shew, by better
reasons than such a kind of speech, did really believe a \
future state of rewards and punishments.
But he "goes on: And IF THEY IMAGINED men to
be punished for sin, and rewarded for virtue, even sup
posing that this was talked of in a way that might be
PROVED fabulous, yet the doctrine itself was unshaken.
Without doubt, if I will allow they imagined a future
state of rewards and punishments, he will prove they
believed one ; that beinsj the conclusion he seems to aim
7 O
at in the aukward expression of proved fabulous, and
was unshaken. For the point between us is not about
what was true or false, but about what was believed or
disbelieved. But he himself seems dissatisfied with his
expression, and therefore attempts to mend it in this
repetition (for it would be hard that he who begs his
question, should not be able to get to his conclusion).
Suppose the fables of Acheron, and Styx, and Cocytus,
and Elysian Fields, may be all DEMONSTRATED to bt
false, yet it does not follow, that thcthiiyr GQJIV wed under
VOL. XL P these
REMARKS ON SYKES.
these words icas believed to be all false. Here again hii
words, demonstrated to be false, leave him just where he
was. For .nothing can be concluded concerning the
philosophers believing or not believing a thing, from our
demonstrating it to be true or lake. His expression fails
him here again. He therefore attempts- it a t/iirdtime.
It does, not follow, that souls were Believed to die, or tfr
be uncap ab le of receiving punishments or rewards, but
only that this manner of representing them is FALSE.
As ill as ever ! He is still in the very place where he set
out. And that which at first so perplexed him, has. stuck
by him through all his variation of phrase Is false, for,
was not beikved. As if the philosophers must needs
disbelieve ai) that was false, and believe all that was true.
And indeed it seems to have been this strange prepos
session that has made him run into all his confusion of
iunpia.ge. A disease that fatally infected the lawyer of
3ate v memory. I put his expressions in the most favour
able light. For if there be no blunder, there is much
malice: The period (supposing the words accurate)
tending to prove the credibility of a future state of rewards
and punishments ; which, being directed against my dis
course, necessarily insinuates, that 1 had wrote something
against that credibility. But I have too good opinion oi
his honesty,, to believe this to be his secret purpose.
What therefore this Writer so fruitlessly labours to
bring forth, is this simple conception, That the philoso
phers might believe tlie doctrine of a future state of
rewards and punishments in general, and yet disbelieve
all the particular fables of the populace concerning it
But* those who are acquainted with antiquity, will know,
tha,t. this was. not, and could not be the case. I have
given, a reason in the fir^t volume* of The Divine
Legation, to shew, k, was not, in these words: " We have
" given. just above a quotation from Tullys oration for
< fcliLC-ntius, in t which he having ridiculed the popular
fables concerning a future state, subjoins, If these be
"false,, : a$all men see they are, what, hath death deprived
6i us. of besides a sense of pain? Nam hunc quidein
" quid tandem illi mali mors attulit ? Nisi forte ineptii?
" qcJ.fabiiUs ducimur, ut existimenaus ilium apud inleros.
* Div. Leg. Vol. III. pp. 124, 123.
" Unpioruna
REMARKS ON SYKES. an
" iinpiorum supplicia perferre, c. Qutc si folsti
4t id quod omnes ihtetttgitnt, yirid ei -tandem alhid
" eripuit prater scnsuni dol&ris ? From this inference of
" Cicero s it appears, that we have not concluded amiss,
** when, from several quotations, inter spei seel througho tit
" this work, in which a disbelief of the common -Mion-ofi
" a future state of rewards and punishments- is implied.
" we have inferred the Writer s disbelief of a future -state
" of rewards and punishments in - general. " There are
many reasons likewise, ivhy it could not be the, C(ts& , too
long indeed to mention here; however, I will just hint at
one. The Pagan notion of a.future state of rewards and
punishments was founded in old tradition : hut that
tradition, which conveyed down the general doctrine,
brought along these circumstance* of it. But I forget
that I am arguing with an enemy to all tradition : who, asi
highly as he advances the knowledge of the philosophers,.
yet is unwilling to allow they were indebted for it to arty
thing but their own reason. So entirely has that childish
sophism got the better of him : JFhatsoever reason might
teach, it did teach. But how has he made out his point ?
By encountering a few weak efforts of the Fathers \\\
support of traditional knowledge. He has great reason
to boast his victory: it is like his who triumphed for
having tript up a cripple. But reverence for age should
dispose us to spare the Fathers, especially when more
able-bodied men stand in "our way. Till he meet with
these, I would recommend the following fact to his con
sideration. The more ancient philosophers, in the deli
very whether of their moral, natural, or theologic prin
ciples, constantly recommend them on this footing,
that they received them from TRADITION : one truth
came from a priest of this religion ; and another from
the sacred books of that. Scarce any thing is ever reprc- ],
sented as the deduction of their own reasoning : though
such a representation had been attended with much
honour, and we know they were immoderately fond of
glory. Now if this were the case ,, I only fcsk, fFfry
we not believe them ?
II. The Writers second remark begins thus : " It
" been maintuified indeed by some, that all that the old
2i2 REMARKS ON SYKES.
" philosophers held, was a natural metempsychosis, or a
" transition from one body to another, without any moral
" designation whatsoever. But surely this conclusion is
"too hasty: for when it was said, that the souls of ill
" men descended into asses or swine, they did not suppose
" the souls of good men so to descend. The souls of evil
" men, c. g. of murderers, went into the bodies of beasts,
" those of lascivious men into the bodies of swine or
"goats, BT&T*. xoAfeo-ii/, for. punishment, says Timaus
" Locrus. Was this done for punishment, and yet was
" no regard paid to the morals of wicked men * ? "
It hath been maintained (say he) by some, that the old
philosophers held only a natural metempsychosis but
surely this conclusion , is too hasty. Who it is that has
been too hasty, is submitted to the judgment of the
public: whether I, in concluding from a hundred well-
weighed circumstances; or he r in censuring from one
only, and that, as we shall see, neither weighed nor
understood.
But-// is -too hasty, FOR when it was SAID, that the
souls of ill men descended into asses or swine, they did not
suppose the souls of good men so to descend. How are we
to understand him? If by SAID be only meant t aught t
then, from what they said of the souls of ill men, nothing
can be concluded, concerning what they SUPPOSED or
bdie-ced of the souls of good men : because it was their
way to say one thing and suppose another. But if by
SAID .we ,are to understand supposed or believed, then I
will readily grant, that, if they supposed the souls of ill
. men to descend, they did not suppose the souls of good
men so to descend* But why this to me? Did / ever
sayy the old philosophers supposed, that is, believed, that
t fie souls of ill men descended into asses or swine ? He
-. , would insinuate I did ; as appears not only from his
address, but from his plain allusion to the following words
of my book: However, it is true, that in his writings he
[Plato] inculcates the doctrine of a future state of
reward and punishment that the souls of ill men de
scended into asses and swine did he himself believe it ?
, :: we may he assured he did not] , &c. Was it from these
; words-" he; gathered; that I held, Plato supposed, what,
" " * Div. -Legi .Vol. III. pp, 78, 79. f Ibid. p. 94.
I own,
REMARKS ON SYKES. 213
I own, he inculcated? Let him look again, and I
imagine he will alter his opinion. But he will still say,
though / do not hold, that the ancient philosophers so
supposed; yet, what is more to the purpose, &\\ ancient
philosopher docs.
For thus he goes on : The souls of evil men, e. g. of
murderers, went into the bodies of beasts, those of lasci
vious men into the bodies of swine and GO ATS, wo]l xo Aao-;^
for punishment, SAYS TIM^EUS LOCRUS, Was this done
for punishment, and yet was no regard paid to the morals
of wicked men ? This is indeed amazing ! The reader
cannot forget, that I quoted this very passage at large *,
as the most incontestable evidence, that the Pythago
reans did not believe one word of all they taught con
cerning the souls of ill men descending into the bodies of
brutes for punishment ; Timceus Locrus prefacing the
relation of those transitions in these very words : For as
we sometimes cure the, body with unwholesome rcmedies t
when such as arc most wholesome have no effect, soAvjj
RESTRAIN THOSE MINDS BY FALSE RELATIONS which
will not be persuaded by the true: there is a necessity
therefore of ins filling the dread of those foreign torment $
As that the soul shifts and changes its habitation] that
the coward is thrust ignominiously into a woman s form,
the murderer imprisoned within thefurr of a savage, the
lascivious condemned to animate a boar or a sow) f , c.
*lg y&(> r<x trw^ala po
uyifif1fttoif STW ra? x
nxa jw-Tj ay/flat Aa0<n
%ivzi> wf HAflxy^vOjUfukv rav ^^ TWV P w if
crxavfa, uro* u^ij/ Ex^t^ojuifva TWV ^ picuQwM EJ Sypiuv
JIOTI KOAAEIN* Aa/vwi/ ^ , jj o-uwv t} xaV^wv jtxa^aV J.
Did Tnmcus Locrus then suppose, i. e. believe,
the souls of ill men descended into brutes? Does he not
expressly tell us he supposed they did not, but that these
fables were inculcated in order to restrain the populace
from vice? To tamper then with my own evidence,
and to turn it against ihe in this manner* as if nothing
had been said, is so new a stroke in controversy, that we
have yet no name for it ; but, on occasion, shall now be
able to assign it a Patronymic.
* Diy, Leg. Vol. HI. pp. 78, 79. | Ibid. J DC Aninia Mundi, sub fin,
p 3 However,
214 REMARKS ON SYKES.
/
However, to do the Writer justice, I must be so fair
to say, that it may admit of some doubt, whether ever he
i*ead this passage in The Drc we Legation, or only in the
Letters to Serena, a book that undergoes his censure in
the same place where I am so unhappy to incur it. I am
inclined to think the latter, from this remarkable circum
stance. The Author of the Letters to Serena had trans
lated 8f ffuwi/ ij KAIlPIiN /wo^aff, into tlie forms of mine
or GOATS*. And so too has this Writer: info the bodies
(bays he) of s^cine 0/\ GOATS ) , which is so singular an
interpretation, that, notwithstanding the proverb, that
good ivvV.y jump, I can hardly think them to be both
original. But perhaps that excellent correspondent of
Straw s had here a mind to shew his learning ; and
knowing, that the Tyrrhenians., a Greek colony in Italy,
Used xaTrpge for a goat, he would conclude, by analogy,
that the Locrians,. another Greek colony in Italy, did
the same. Again, Tmueus Lccrus says, I; Syfav <rw/A1;
Tvland, into beasts of prey. This Writer, into the bodies
if beasts. Here, where Toland is right, he leaves him;
but sticks charitably by him while he continues wrong.
For Srpi uv signifies beasts of prey : and that precise idea
is required to complete the sense; the habitation of the
murderer being here spoken of. Again, Thncsus says,
\TSQT\ xoXao-t^ which Toland faithfully renders for a pwiish-
went; and which this Writer particularly insists on, as
the very cream of his argument : murderers (says he)
\\erit into the bodies of beasts, those of laserciom mtn into
the bodies pfjicine or goats, wol\ *oA*env, FOR pu xi SH
IM K NT, says Timseus Locrus. Was this done for punish -
iiiex}, and yet, c. But here I must retract my sus[)icion;
for from this last instance it would seem, that , lie had
read and compared my translation, in which the fiyglish
of those formidable words, uort x&ouriv, is nr>t literally to
be found. And now the secret is out. He seems to
suppose I omitted them, as conscious of their containing
some strange matter against my general opinion. But
in truth, it was partly, because they were redundant;
Thiueus representing the whole affair under the general
idea of a "pum$hmeyt ; and partly, because the sense of
\vas comprized in the word imprisoned, which
* Letters to Serena, p. 58. , -J- P. 402 of his Connexions, &c.
1 used
HEM ARKS ON SVKES. 2 1 5
J used in the very case to which those words a>re applied,
As to the idea itself, that was so tar from .hurting my
argument, that it could not do without it. .
He goes on : They [the philosophers] realty conceived
puuisiiinents and rewards of evil or good actions in men;,
and #aw inwgimd.tt guumlmmt by the -means of trans
migration, others imagined a punishment iti/lict-ed in
.Hades, others BY IMMEDIATE ACTS OF PROVIDENCE;
find all supposed regards or punishments, notwithstanding
they might treat *w fables the xtori.es of Cocytus .and
.Acheron *. He sticks to his point, u c see ; and will
still have -it, that they believed a hdl, though they treated
the stories of Cocytm and Adicron as fables, w-liich (to
tell hi mi nay >mind once for all) is just as if cue should
jsay, some awaong us believe the miseries of the lung a-
Ikncii pnsoa, and yet Ireat the stones of jailors, turn
keys, bailiffs, and attorneys, as mere tables. But what
jhavc immediate acts qf .Proriduicc to do in tlas peuicod ?
Did not I endeavour to .prove, that all .tLe ihcisticjal
jpliilo^oif^hers believed a Providence in this life? These
words therefore, as they are iound in a .paragraph that
relates solely to my peculiar opinion, I can consider in
no other light than as a false insinuation ad iiwidiam*
I have* now attended this Writer quite through his
little excursion. Let us see how he returns to himself;
HOWEVER, what I^contend for, is, that the HEATHEN"
held a moral I a future^ state of rewards and punishments,
according to good and evil done here f . It is worthy his
contention ; and I should be ready to be his second in it
But why then should he go out of his way, and contend
for another thing, that will do neither himself nor his
cause any credit? I mean him honour, when I say his
cause: for I really believe it to be the cause of Christi
anity. Now, I conceive this not at all advanced by
endeavouring to shew that the sacred writers had but Jt <*
small reason for their harsh censure of the Greek philo
sophy J ; as the contending .for its orthodoxy in this point
effectively does. But I will suppose the sacred writers
have been misunderstood. And perhaps this may be no
great reflection upon any partv ; it we consider, that the
Janscnists, scarce inferior to .-my in their talents of rea-
* Connexions, <Scc. p. 402. f Ibid. % Div. Leg. Book III. 4.
p 4 soiling
3i6 REMARKS ON SYKES.
soning and criticism, have strangely mistaken those cen-*
surcs, while they understood them to be directed against
human science in general. I supposed therefore, that,
to shew the sacred writers only censured the Greek phi
losophy, and that it deserved their censure, was not one
of the least services one might render to our holy religion.
But the occasion now seems to be more urgent. The pre
tensions of these philosophers have been of late highly ad
vanced. The author of the book, intitled, Future Rewards
and. Punishments believed by the. Ancients, hath, we see,
forced the inspired teachers of mankind to give them the
right hand of fellowship. I had exposed their profane and
Tain babblings in one capital instance, because it came di
rectly into my particular design ; as well for that I thought
it useful to Revelation in general. I did not then indeed
imagine the necessity so pressing. I may hereafter per
haps find occasion to examine these spurious rivals of
the Apostolic function on every head of morality and
religion, in the manner I have already done on one ; and
fully vindicate the majesty of Sacred Writ in the just
sentence it hath passed upon them.
[ 217 3
A
LETTER
TO THE ttlGHT REVfcllEND
DR, RICHARD SMALLEROOK,
LORD BISHOP OF L1CII FIELD AND COVENTRY.
MY LORD,
THIS trouble is occasioned by a passage in your
Lordship s late printed Charge * to your Clergy, in which
you have been pleased to censure me by name with some
frankness, and, I am sorry to say, with equal injustice.
The regard due to your Lordship s Order, especially
while in discharge of your function, would have certainly
restrained me from complaining of aught that was a
mere declaration of your Lordship s dislike of my Writ
ings. It is your Lordship s right and duty to warn your
Clergy against all ill books: and your Lordship is, in
that place and on that occasion, an authorized denouncer
of what are so. Had your Lordship therefore only said,
that The Divine Legation was a very bad book, I had
not attempted, by any address of this nature, to disturb
you in the quiet possession of your opinion. But when
a reason added to that declaration turns your vague cen
sure into a formal accusation, then, my Lord, it becomes
equally my right and duty to defend my character, if
I find it mistaken.
To put the public therefore (which your Lordship has
forced me to appeal to) in possession of the fact, it will
be necessary to go so tar back as to tell them what it is
your Lordship says you propose to make the subject of
* Printed in 1741, by J. & P. Knapton, Octavo.
your
ai 8 LETTER TO
your Charge. It is (in your own words) to lay before
your Clergy some reasons, draicn from the Christian
Revelation itself, which evince the pretensions of morality
antecedently to divine Revelation, to be earned much too
high, and vindicate the Christian Faith, as well as
J\ lor alii y, from those INVIDIOUS INSINUATIONS that
have been CAST upon them by SEVERAL LATE
WIUTEUS, WHO icili occasionally be ANIMADVERTED
upon in the following Discourse, p. 2.
Your Lordship having gone through your Reasons,
comes, in page 24, to draw .your inferences from them.
The second of which, you tell us, is, " That though
4 Christian Morality is much superior to that of all other
" religions, yet it does not of itself (that is, abstractedly
" from the facts recorded in the Gospel, with which it is
" incorporated) evince the truth, though it does most
tc clearly the excellency of the Christian Religion. It is
/ certain (says your Lordship) that the reasonableness
u and sanctity of the moral precepts of the Gospel give
" great advantages to Christianity, as compared with any
li other religion ancient or modern. And this of itself is
" sufficient to give a well-disposed mind very favourable
" thoughts of the Christian Religion, and to induce it to
/ make farther enquiries into the truth of those facts
which establish its divine authority. And this is as far
" as the argument needs to be pushed ; and in fact it is
" as far as one of the best modern Apologists for the
"truth of Christianity, the most learned Grothis, in
" concurrence with the principal Apologists amongst the
" Ancients, and more especially the famous Origcn,
" thought .fit to urge it. It is clear that they thought
" themselves obliged only to shew, that the morality qj
<c the Gospel docs vastly excel that of all other religious
** and moral institutions, and is most .worthy of God in
" all respects. But neither they nor any other thought-
i% ful persons, that have formerly engaged on this subject
* (as lar as I can recollect) have thought it reasonable to
4i lay so great a stress on the excellency ot the morals ot
4 the -Gospel, considered distinctly from \\wfacts of the
** Gospel, and in their own nature vsolelv, as necessarily
10 "to
BISHOP SMALLBROOK.
.** to infer from thence the certainty of the Christian Re-
" vclation. And much less have they asserted, a has
"been done by some LATE WRITERS, that the morality
" of the Gospel, which they call the Internal evidence of
." it (though indeed it has not the nature of evidence
" properly so *:aiic;l), is the strongest evidence of the
"tiuth or Christianity, and is highly superior to all its
" external c\:uie?ice, that is, the evidence which arises
"from ihcj-tficts recorded in tne Gospel, and attended
" with other attestations of ancient writers, which support
" its divine authority." Tins is all from your Lord-
ship; where at the word WRIT tits we find a mark of
reference to the following Note See Mr. Arscot s Con
siderations on the Christian Religion, pp. 10. 51, ,59,
60, &c. Part II. p. 3. Part III. and elsewhere. SEE
too MR. WAR BURTON S DIVINE LEGATION OF MOSES,
&c. pp. i, 2, 3, 4, 5*-
So that here, my Lord, I find this proposition affirmed,
That Mr. Jl arburton, in his Daunt Legation of Moses,
&c. pp. i, 2, ;], 4, 5, has asserted THAT THE MORALITY
OF THE GOSPEL, WHICH HE CALLS THE INTERNAL EVI
DENCE OF IT, IS THE STRONGEST EVIDENCE OF THE
TRUTH OF CHRISTIANITY, AND is HIGHLY SUPERIOR
TO ALL ITS EXTERNAL EVIDENCE.
This, my Lord, is your accusation; a very capital one
it is; and such as, if true, would prove me devoid of
common sense, as well as in all other respects unworthy
the character I bear of a Christian, a clergyman, or a
defender of Revelation. I am therefore necessitated to
call upon your Lordship, in this public manner, either to
make it good, or to give me reparation. Your Lordship
confines the proof of your accusation to the first, second,
third, fourth, and fifth pages of the First Volume of The
J)irhic Legation. JJut as I am not disposed to chicane
in so serious a matter, I hereby promise, that if either in
those pages, or in any other pages of that work, or in any
thing I have ever written, preached, or said, your Lord
ship produces the proposition in question as held and
maintained by me, either in express terms, or. deduciblo
* Vol. I. pp. 193, tScc.
220 LETTER TO BP. SMALLERQOK.
by fair and logical consequence, I promise, I say, to
submit to any censure your Lordship s self shall think fit
to inflict. But if, on the other hand, you can produce no
such proposition, 1 shall then expect so much from your
Lordships s justice as to "retract your accusation in the
same public manner you have been pleased to ad
vance it
I am, Jl/y LORD,
Your LORDSHIP S
Most Obedient Servant,
Nov. 17, 1741. \V. WARBURTOX.
REMARKS
ox
SEVERAL OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS-,
IN ANSWER TO
The Rev, Dr. MIBDLETON,
Dr. POCOCKE,
The MASTER of The Charter Hotise,
Dr. RICHARD GREY,
AND OTHERS;
Serving to explain and justify divers Passages, ia
THE DIVINE LEGATION,"
Objected to by those Learned Writers.
To which is added, A GENERAL REVIEW of the ARGUMENT
of The Divine Legation, as far as is yet advanced : wherein
is considered the Relation the several Parts bear to each
other, and te the Whole.
Together with An APPENDIX, in answer to a late Pamphlet,
entitled, An Examination of Mr. W s Second Proposition.
IN TWO PARTS PART L
Quid imnu rcnles hospitcs vrxa?, Canis,
Ignaviis adversum Ltipos?
Kara, qualis aut Molossus, ant fulvus Lacon,
AMIGA vis PASTORIBUS,
Again per altas aure iublata nives,
Quaeeunque praecedet Fera.
Tu quum timenda voce complesti Xerau?,
Projectum oderaris CIBUM.
CONTENTS;
PREFACE to PART I.
REMARKS, &c. Sec. i. to Sec. 5.
APPENDIX: containing the Judgments of GHOTHJS, Ena-
COPUS, and Bishop BULL ; shewing, that a Future State oi
Hewards and Punishments was not taught to the Ji;v,s by the
Law and Religion of MOSES.
POSTSCRIPT.
PREFACE
TO
REMARKS ON OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS
PART I.
IN the Prefatory Discourse to the First Volume
the D. L. I spoke pretty largely of the use of ridicule, in
religious subjects ; as the abuse of it is amongst the
fashionable arts of free-thinking : For which I have been
just now called to account, without any ceremony, by
the nameless Author of a Poem intiiled, The Pleasure^
of Imagination. For tis my fortune to be still concerned
with those who either do go masked, or those who should,
I am a plain man, and on my first appearance in this way,
I told my name, and who I belonged to. After this, if
men will rudely come upon me in disguise, they can have
no reason to complain, that (in my ignorance of thei?
characters) I treat them all alike upon the same free
footing they have put themselves.
This gentleman, a follower of Ld. S. and, as it should
seem, .one of those to whom that Preface was addressed ;
certainly, one of those to whom I applied the words of
Tully, non decet, non datum est; who affect wit and
raillery on subjects not meet, and with talents unequal ;
this Gentleman, I say, in the i();>th and io6th pages of
his Poem, animadverts upon me in the following manner;
Since it is (says he) beyond all contradict ion evident,
that we have a natural setise or feeling of the ridiculous,
and since so good a reason may be assigned to justify the
Supreme Being for bestowing it; one cannot without
astonishment rejlect on the conduct of those men who-
imagine it for the service of true religion to vilify and
blacken it without (list faction, and endeavour to persuade
us that it is never applied but in a bad cause. The
reason here given, to shew, that ridici(!e and bujfoinry
rrmy
224 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I
may be properly employed on serious and even sacred
subjects, is admirable : it is, because we have a natural
sense or feeling of the ridiculous, and because no sensa
tion was given us in vai/r, which would serve just as well
to excuse adultery or incest. For have we not as natural
a seme or feeling of the voluptuous? And was it not
given for as good purposes? But he will say, it has its
proper objects. And does he think, I will not say the
same of his sense of ridicule ? For he strctch d a point,
when he told the reader I vilified and blacken d it with
out distinction. The thing I there opposed, was only,
an extravagant disposition to unseasonable mirth *. The
abusive way of icit and raillery on serious subject s"\.
With as little truth could he say, that / endeavoured to
persuade the public that it is never applied but in a bad
cause: For, in that very place, I apologized for an
eminent writer who had applied it to a good one J.
But, in the next words, if he means by, is not, ought
not to be, he gives me up all I want. Ridicule (says he)
is not concerned iciih mere speculative truth or Jatshood.
Certainly. And, for that very reason, I would exclude it
from those subjects. What need? He will say, For
when was it so employed ? Hold a little. Was it not
concerned with mere speculative truth, when his master
ridiculed the subject of Mr. Locke s Essay of Human
Understanding, in the manner mentioned in my Pre
face ? Was it not so concerned too, when the same
noble person ridiculed Revelation, in the merry Story of
the travelling Gentlemen, who put a wrong bias on their
reason in order to believe right |(? Unless, by mere
speculative truths, he means, truths of no use : and for
all such, he has my free leave to treat them as he pleases.
He has shewn, by his Poem, they are no improper
subject for his talents.
He goes on, It Is not in abstract propositions or theo
rems, but in actiom and passions, good and evil, beauty
and deformity, that zee jind materials for it ; and all
these terms are relative, implying approbation or blame.
The reason here given, why, not abstract propositions, &c.
* Div. Leg. Vol. I. Ded. p. 147, c. f Ibid. p. 150.
J Jhid. p.. M4 & seq. Ibid. p. 164, Note (||).
|i Char. II. Yoi III. Misc. <z. c. 3. p. 99*
but
Pref.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 225
but actions and passions, &c. are the subject of ridicule,
is, because these latter are relative terms implying appro
bation and blame. But are not the former as much
relative terms, implying assent and denial? And does
not an absurd proposition as frequently afford materials
for ridicule as an absurd action ? Let the reader deter
mine by what he finds before him. To ask then, (says
he) whether ridicule be a test of truth, is, in other words,
to ash whether that which is ridiculous can be morally
trice-, can be just and becoming ; or whether that which
is just and becoming can be ridiculous. A question that
does not deserve a serious answer. Why then did he put
it ? For it is of nobody s ashing but his own. However,
in civility to his master, or rather indeed to his master s
masters, the ancient sophists, who, we are told * in the
Characteristics, said something very like it, I shall shew it
deserves a very serious answer. For how, I pray, comes
it to pass, that to ask whether ridicule be a test of truth 9
is the same thing as to ask whether that which is ridicu
lous can be morally true? As it* whatever ridicule was
applied to, as a test, must needs be ridiculous. Might
not one ask, Whether the copel \ be a test oj gold, with
out incurring the absurdity of questioning whether the
matter of the copel was not standard gold? What was
the man dreaming of? That a test of truth, and a
detection of falsehood, were one and the same thing ? or
that it was the practice to bring nothing to the test but
what was known, beforehand, whether it was true or
false ? His master seems much better versed in the use
of things. He says J, Now, wliat rule or measure is
there in the world, except in considering the real temper
of things, to find which are truly serious, and which
ridiculous? And how can this be done, unless by applying
the ridicule TO s E E WH ETHER i T WILL B EAR?
* Tzi as the saying of an ancient S jgc, that humour was the only test
of ridicule. Vol. I. p. 74.
f I chuse this instance of the refiner s copel, because the English
for it, which is Italian, is test ; from whence the latter word was
metaphorically used to signify all kinds of sure trial. This was
proper to observe, as our Poet seems not to know the meaning of
the word.
| Char, Vol. I. p. 12.
VOL, XL Q But
226 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Parti.
But if the reader be curious to see to the bottom of
this affair, we must go a little deeper. Lord S , we
find, was willing to know, as every honest man would,
whether those things, which had the appearance of
seriousness and sanctity, were indeed what they appeared.
The plain way of coming to this knowledge had been
hitherto by the test of reason. But this was too long and
too slow a progress for so sublime a genius. He would
go a shorter and a quicker way to work, and do the
business by ridicule, given us, as his disciple tells us, for
this very end, to end the tardy steps of reason, This-
therefore the noble Author would needs apply, to see
whether these appearances icon Id bear the touch. Now
it was this ingenious expedient, which I thought I had
cause to object to. For when you have applied this touch,
and that, to which it is applied, is found to bear it, what
reparation will you make to truth, for the ridiculous light
in which you have placed her, in order only, as you pre
tend, to judge right of her? O, for that, says his Lord
ship, she has the amends in her own hands: let her
railley again; for ichy should fair honesty be denied tlte
use of this weapon*? To this so wanton a liberty with
sacred truth, I thought I had many good reasons to
oppose; and so, it seems, thought our Poet likewise:
and therefore he endeavours to excuse his master, by
putting another sense on the application of ridicule as a
test, which supposes the truth or falsehood of the thing
tried, to be already known. But the shift is unlucky ;
for while it covers his master, it exposes himself. For
now it may be asked, what need of ridicule at all, after
the truth is known ; since you make its sole use to consist
in the discovery of the true state of things ?
But the odd fortune of our Poet s pen makes the plea
sant part of the story. Here, we see, where he aims to
make an absurd proposition, for the use of others, it
proves a reasonable one : Tis odds but xver find him,
before we have done, trying to make a reasonable one,
for his own use, that turns out at last an absurdity.
But let us come to the philosophy of. his criticism : Foil
it is most evident, that as in a metaphysical proposition
* Char. Vol. I. p. 128.
Pref.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 227
offered to the understanding for its assent, the faculty of
reason examines the terms of the proposition ; andjindmg
one idea, which was supposed equal to another, to be in
fact unequal, of consequence rejects tlie proposition as a
falsehood : so in objects offered to tJie mind for its esteem
or applause, the faculty of ridicule feeling an incongruity
in the claim, urges the mind to reject it with laughter
and contempt. And now, how does this sublime account,
of reason and ridicule, prove the foregoing proposition
to he absurd? Just as much, I suppose, as the height
of St. Paul s proves Grant ham steeple to stand awry.
I, for my part, can collect nothing from it, unless it be
that the Poet thought metaphysical propositions were the
only proper objects of the understanding s assent, and
the reasons examination.
However, if it cannot prove what precedes, he will
try to make it infer what follows : When THEREFORE
(says he) we observe suck a claim obtruded upon mankind,
and the inconsistent circumstances carefully concealed
from the eye of the public, it is our business, if the matter
be of importance to society, to drag out those latent cir
cumstances, and, bij setting them full in view, convince
the ico rid how ridiculous the claim is ; and thus a double
advantage is gained ; for ice both detect the moral false
hood sooner them in the way of speculative inquiry, and
impress the minds of men with a stronger sense of the
vanity and error of its authors. And this, am! no more^
is meant by the application of ridicule. A little more, if
we may believe his master: who says, it is not only to
detect error, but to try truth, that is, in his own expres
sion, to see wliether it will bear. But why all this ado ;
/ *
for now, we see, nobody mistook what was meant by the
application of ridicule, but himself As to what he said
before, that when objects are offered to the mind for its
esteem and applause, the faculty of ridicule, feeling an
incongruity in the claim, urges the mind to reject it with
laughter and contempt ; it is so expressed, as if he in
tended it not for the description of the use, but the
essence of ridicule. Whereas the dealers in this trash
frequently urge the mind to reject many things with
laughter and contempt, withoutjeeling any other incon-
Q 2 grwty,
228 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Parti
gruity, than in their own pretensions to truth and
honesty. And this our Poet very well knows.
For now he conies to the point. But it Is said ths
practice, is dangerous, and may be inconsistent with the
regard we owe to objects of real dignity and excellence.
I answer, the practice FAIRLY MANAGED, can never be
dangerous. An answer which has only . taught me to
reply, that the use of stillettos and poisons, fairly ma
naged, can never he dangerous. And yet all wise states>
for the security of its members, when any of them have
shewn a violent propensity to these things, have ever
forbidden their promiscuous use and sale.
However, he allows at length, that men may be dis
honest in obtrudmg circumstances foreign to the object ;
and we may be inadvertent in allowing those circumstances
to impose upon us*, but but what? Why the SENSE OF
RIDICULE ALWAYS JUDGES RIGHT. And, he had told
us before, that this is a natural seme, and bestowed upon
us by the Supreme Being, to aid our tardy steps in pursuit
of reason. Why, as he says, who can withstand this ?
Nothing can be clearer! Writers may be dishonest;
readers may be imposed on ; the public may be misled ;
and men may judge wrong. But what then, the sense of
ridicule always judges right. And while we can support
our Platonic republic of ideas, what signifies what be
comes of the Jleccs Romuli, the actions of the people?
And so again it is, we see, in the use of poisons : though
men may be dishonest in obtruding them, and we may be
inadvertent enough to suffer them to impose upon us ; yet
what then? The efficacy of poison is without malice;
and does but do its kind ; is a natural power, and be
stowed upon us by the Supreme Being, to aid our tardy
steps in pursuit of vermin. In truth, one would imagine,
by so extraordinary an argument, that the question was
not, of the injury to society by the abuse of ridicule, but
of the injury to ridicule itself.
But let us hear him out : The Socrates of Aristophanes
is as truly ridiculous a character as ever was drawn.
True ; but it is not the character vf Socrates, the divine
moralist, and father of ancient wisdom. Indeed! But
then, if, like the true Sosia, in the other comedy, he must
3 bear
Pref.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 229
bear the blows of his fictitious brother, what signifies
it to injured virtue, to tell us ? that lie did not deserve
them ?
JFhat then? (says he) did the ridicule of the Poet
hinder the philosopher from detecting and disclaiming
those foreign circumstances which he had falsely intro
duced into his character, and thus rendering the Satirist
O
doubly ridiculous in Ins turn. See here again ! all his
concern, we find, is, lest good raillery should be beat at
its own weapons. No, indeed, I cannot see how it could
possibly hinder the philosopher from detecting and dis-
claiming. But this it did, which surely deserves a little
-reflection, it hindered the people from seeing what he had
detected and disclaimed A mighty consolation, truly, to
expiring virtue, that he disclaimed the fool s coat they had
put upon him ; though it stuck to him like a sambenito ;
and at last brought him to his execution.
But wiiat is the sacrifice of a Socrates now and then,
to secure ihcjrce use of that inestimable blessing, buf-
foonry ? So thinks our Poet ; when all the answer he
gives to so natural, so compassionate an objection as
this, No: but it nevertheless had an ill influence on the,
minds of the people, is telling us a story of the Atheist
Spinoza ; while the godlike Socrates is left neglected, and
ia the hands of his judges ; whither ridicule, this noble
guide of truth, had safely brought him.
But let us hear the concluding answer which the
respectable Spinoza is employed to illustrate. And so
(says he) has the reasoning of Spinoza made many
Atheists ; he has founded it indeed on suppositions utterly
false ; but allow him these, and Ids conclusions are un
avoidably true. And if ice must reject the use of ridicule
because, by the imposition of false circumstances, things
may be made to seem ridiculous, which are not so in them-
selves ; why we ought not in the same manner to reject the
use of reason, because, by proceeding on false principks,
conclusions will appear true which are impossible in
nature, let the vehement and obstinate declaimers
against ridicule determine.
Nay, we dare trust it with any one; whose com
mon sense is not all turned to taste. What ! Because
Q HE A SON
230 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
RE A sox, the guide of life, the support of religion, the
investigator of truth, must be still used though it be con
tinually subject to abuse; therefore RIIMCUI.F, the
paltry buffoon of reason, must have the same indulgence!
Because akiivjniust be intrusted with government, though
he may misuse his power ; therefore the king s fool shall
be suffered to play the madman 1 But upon what footing
standeth this extraordinary claim ? \\ by, we have a
natural sense of the ridiculous ; and the ridiculous has a
natural feeling of tlie incongruous ; and then u ho can
forbear laughing? If to this, you add taste, beauty,
deformity, moral sense, moral rectitude, moral falsehood,
you have then, I think, the whole theory of the ridiculous.
But I can teil him of a plain English proverb worth all
his modisli ideas of beauty and virtue put together, and
that is, TO BE MF.IIRY AND WISE. Which concerns him
nearer than one may think. For who would imagine,
that, while he was supporting ridicule from the charge of
(tbiiftc, he should be supplying his adversary with a fresh
and id a grant exception to his own plea? iSot indeed,
that the comment disgraced the text ; or that there was
much incongruitu in pleading for a fault he had just then
O > ^O J
committed. But so it,is, kind reader, that, where he is
marshalling the several classes of folly in human life, he
places the whole body of the Christian Clergy in the
first and foremost : amongst those, . \vho, he tells us,
assume some desirable quality or possession ichich evidently
does not belong to them *.
" Others, of graver mien, behojo 1 ; adorn d
" With holy ensigns] how sublime they move,
" And, bending oft their sanctimonious eyes,
" Take homage of the simple-minded throng,
" AMBASSADORS of Ileavcnf."
And well do they deserve his moral ridicule, supposing
them to be drawn like. For, if I understand any thing
of his colouring, the features are, pride, hypocrisy, fraud,
and imposture. I call it an insult on the whole body of
the Clergy, because I know oi no part of them who hold
that the ministry of the Gospel (or, as St. Paul calls it,
* P. 49. f P. 96.
tf
Pref.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 231
cf reconciliation} teas given them by the religion of
Christ^ but hold likewise, with the same Apostle (who
speaks of himself here as a simple minister of the
Gospel) that they are AMBASSADORS for Christ*.
But let it go like what it is, a poor pitiful joke of his
master s }% and spoil d too in the telling. The dulness
of the ridicule will sufficiently atone for the abuse of it.
And I may rind time to call the great man of taste him
self to account, for his so frequent and ill-employed
raillery against KELIGIOX.
* -2 Cor. v. 23, rf Char. Vol. III. p. 336. Third edit.
232 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
R E M A R K S,
PART I.
THE state of Authorship, whatever that of Nature
be, is certainly a state of war : in which, especially
if it be an holy tear, every man s hand is set, not against
his enemy, but his brother. But as these furious fight
ing men are generally as much mistaken in the use of
their arms, as in the objects of their resentments, there is
seldom any great harm done. I speak for myself. I
have found none. And indeed no wonder. I have been
all the while very much out of the question. For my
Answerers write not so properly agalmt me, as J or
something they like better than me. This, for his dear
orthodoxy ; that, for his dearer philosophers; a third,
for his lawyers; a fourth, for his Cuba lists; a fifth, for
himself; and a sixth for, I don t know what, besides the
pure love of scribbling*. So that I have been now, for
some time, only a silent looker-on; to see how the
public and they would get acquainted. I have given
them full liberty to try what they can make of it, or It of
them : and wish them better luck with their readers
intellects than I have had with theirs. For, from the
first to the last of them, their constant cry has been,
They do not understand me. Now, though I can allow
this to be a better reason for their writing at me than any
they have hitherto assigned; yet it would be a very bad
one for my answering them ; because it would keep me
engaged till they did understand me; which I presume no
gentle reader would think a reasonable task for one born
when human life is at the shortest. When therefore I
took my last leave of the whole tribe, in the person of
their great exemplar and archetype, the learned Advocate
* Webster, Tillurd, \V**, Bate, Morgan, Bott.
Sect, i.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 233
of Pagan Philosophy, I engaged, that if any writers more
equal to the subject should come abroad, 1 would return
their civility and fair argument in such sort as that the
world should see I esteemed every sincere inquirer after
truth rather as a friend to the public than an enemy to
myself. Since that time, the misfortune I had of differ
ing in opinion from some writers of great merit and
learning has been the disagreeable occasion of reminding
jne of my promise.
Section i.
[See Divine Legation, Book iv. 6. sub.jfinJ]
OF these, the first place would be due to my very
learned friend, the Author of the elegant and useful
Letter from Rome ; who, taking entirely to himself what
was meant in general of the numerous writers on the
same subject, and the more numerous followers of the
same hypothesis, hath done a* notion of mine the honour
of his confutation, in a Postscript to that Letter. But
the same friendly considerations, which induced him to
end the Postscript with declaring his unwillingness to
enter further into controversy with me, have disposed me
not to enter into it at all. This, and neither any neglect
of him, nor any force I apprehend in his arguments, have
kept me silent. In the mean time, I owe so much both
to myself and the public, as to take notice of a misrepre
sentation of my argument ; and a change of the question
in dispute between us: without which notice, the con
troversy (as I agree to leave it in his hands) could scarce
receive an equitable decision. The misrepresentation I
speak of is in these words : "He [the Author of the
" D. L.] allows that the writers, who have undertaken to
" deduce the rights of Popery from Paganism, have
" shewn an exact and surprising likeness between then*
" in a great variety of instances. This (says he) one
" would think, is allowing every thing that the cause
" demands : it is every thing, I dare say, that those
" writers desire |." That it is every thing those writers
desire, I can easily believe, since I see my learned friend
himself hath taken it for granted, that these two asseiv
* Div. Leg. lib, iv, 6. fub,fin. f Postscript, p, 228.
tions
234 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
lions, i The religion of the present Romans derived from
that of their heathen ancestors , and 2. An e.ract con
formity or unifonmty rather of worship between Popery
find Paganism, are convertible propositions. For, un
dertaking, as his title page informs us, to prove, the
religion of the present Romans derived jrom that qj their
heathen ancestors; and having gone through his argu
ments, he concludes them in these words, " But it is high
< time for me to conclude, being persuaded, if I do not
" flatter myself too much, that I have sufficiently made
* gOOd WHAT I FIRST UNDERTOOK TO PROVE, n exact
conformity or uniformity rather of worship between
" Popery and Paganism *." But what he undertook to
prove, we see, was, The religion of the present Romans
derived from their heathen ancestors. That I have,
therefore, as my learned friend observes, allowed every
thing those writers desire , is very likely. But then,
whether I have allowed every thing that the cause
demands, is another question. Which I think can never
be determined in the affirmative, till it be shewn that no
other probable cause can be assigned of this exact
conformity between Papists and Pagans, but a borrowing
or derivation j rom one to the other. And I guess, this
is not now ever likely to be done, since I myself have
actually assigned another probable cause, namely, the same
spirit of superstition operating in equal circumstances*
But this justly celebrated writer goes on" This ques-
: tion, according to his [the Author of The Divine
(i Legation] notion, is not to be decided by facts, but
:c by a principle of a different kind, a superior knowledge
" of human nature^" Here I am forced to complain of
a want of candour, a want not natural to my learned
friend. For, whence is it, I would ask, that he collects,
that> according to my notion, this question is not to be
decided by facts, but a superior knowledge of human
nature ? From any thing I have said ? Or from any
thing I have omitted to say ? Surely, not from any thing
I have said (though he seems to insinuate so much by
patting the words a superior knowledge of human nature
in Italic characters, as they are called) because I leave
him in possession of his facts, and give them all their
* Letter, p. 224. t Postscript, p. 228.
full
Sect, i.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 235
full validity; which he himself observes; and, from
thence, as we see, endeavours to draw some advantage to
his hypotiiesis : nor from any thing I have omitted to
say, for, in the short paragraph \\ here I delivered my
opinion, and, by reason of its evidence, offered but one
single argument in its support, that argument arises from
a supposed FACT, viz. that the superstitious customs in
question icere many ages later than the conversion of the
imperial city to the Christian faith: whence I concluded
that the ruling churchmen could have no motive in borrow
ing from Pagan customs, either as they were then fashion
able in themselves, or respectable for the number or
quality of their followers. The supposition I could easily
convert into a proof ] were I not restrained by the consi
derations before spoken of. And what makes this the
more extraordinary is, that my learned friend himself
immediately afterwards quotes these words; and then
tells the reader that the argument consists of an HJSTO-
TORICAL FACT and of a consiijuence deduced from it.
It appears therefore, that, according to my notion, the
question is to be decided byjacts, and not by a superior
kfif. ic/edgc of Int man nature. Yet J must confess I then
thought, and do so still, that a superior knowledge of
human nature would do no harm, as it might enable men
to judge butter of facts than we generally find them
accustomed to do. But will this excuse a candid repre-
senter for saying, that the question, according to my
notion, teas not to be decided by facts, but a superior
knowledge of human nature ? However, to do my learned
friend all justice, I must needs say, that, as if these were
only words of course, or words of controversy, he goes
on, through the body of his Postscript, to invalidate my
argument from fact ; and we hear no more of a superior
knowledge of human nature than in this place where it
was brought in to be laughed at.
As to the argument, it must even shift for itself. It
has done more mischief already than I was aware of:
and forced my learned friend to extend his charge from
the moaern to the ancient church of Rome. Tor my
argument, from the low birth of the superstitions iu
question, coming against his hypothesis alter he had once
and again declared the purpose of his Letter to be the
exposing
236 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
exposing the heathenish idolatry and superstition of the
present church of Rome ; he \vas obliged, in support of
that hypothesis, to shew that even the early ages of the
church were not free from the injection. Which hath
now quite shifted the subject with the scene, and will
make the argument of his piece from henceforth to run
thus, The religion of the. present Romans derived ji < .-m
ihelr early Christian ancestors ; ami theirs, jrom ike
neighbouring Pagans. To speak freely, my reasoning
(which was an argument ad hominem, and, as such, 1
thought would have been reverenced) reduced the learned
writer to this dilemma ; either to allow the fact, and give
tip his hypothesis ; or to deny the fact, and change his
question. And he has chosen the latter as the lesser
evil. For a simple question is but like a wife to wrangle
with; and when we lose one we easily find another.
But the hypothesis begot upon it is of the nature of one s
offspring, whose loss perhaps is irreparable. 1 find,
however, his Lincoln s-Lm Advocate never thought him
wedded to his question ; for he takes the change of it,
like the change of a mistress, for politeness , and has
accused me not only of ill-breeding, but of contradiction,
because I would not change it too. I had shewn, in my
Jlrst volume of The Divine Legation, that the ancient
Christians of Greece had borrowed several forms of
speech from the Pagan mysteries : and in my second, I had
denied that the modern Christians of Rome had borrowed
several forms of worship from the Pagan ritual. On
which, our Advocate, catching me at this advantage,
thus candidly expostulates with me. Titus the SAME
FACT, when it tends to prove a part of a Javouritc
hyfyoth&ist is in your hands notoriously true ; but it is no
sooner made use of by the ingenious author so often men-
tioned[Di\ M.J than it proves to be an utter mistake*.
And again, the DIFFERENT OPINIONS which on different
occasions you have entertained of this matter, may serve
to teach its, $c. c. page 50. But let rne assure this
writer, that when I spoke of the ancients borrowing words
from the Pagan mysteries, I no more meant the moderns
borrowing rites from their open worship, than, \vhenf I
* Letter from a Gentleman of Lincoln s-Inn ; p. 55.
t Div. Leg. Appendix to Book III.
spoke.
Sect. 2.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 237
spoke of Answerers by profession, I meant Lawyers by
profession ; who, without flattering them, I may say,
deserve as little the character there given of the said
answerers as I do the calumnies here bestowed by this
fatter-writer.
But his charge of contradiction was excusable. The
Doctor had led him up to the primitive church, and there
he found me ; and there he supposed I had always been :
and seeing me not quite conformable to the Doctor s
decisions, he would quarrel with me for a schismatic.
But I can easily overlook this (that he took upon trust,
as he did his Greek) for the sake of so charitable an
office as the teaching me how to write ; which he kindly
professes to be the whole purpose of his Letter.
My learned friend will excuse my speaking thus much
of a controversy which he knows, from the time of the
first publication of his Postscript, I had intended not to
keep up. But thus much was necessary to state it truly,
and to hold it fairly on the foot whereon he first placed
it, and I had left it. As to the subject itself, so curious
and interesting, if ever I should be disposed to treat it
at large, as possibly I may, I would chuse to do it in
thesi, and not in prosecution of any particular con
troversy.
Section 2.
[See Divine Legation, Book iv. 4.]
THE first writer I am concerned with is the Reverend
Dr. Richard Pococke : who, in his late Book of Travels,
hath a Chapter on the ancient Hieroglyphics of the
Egyptians, wherein, in opposition to my account of the
nature of that kind of writing, he expressed! himself as
follows u If hieroglyphical figures- stood for words or
: sounds that signified certain things, the power of
" hieroglyphics seems to be the same as of a number of
ec letters composing such a sound, that by agreement was
" made to signify such a thing. For hieroglyphics, as
" words, seem to have stoocl for sounds, and sounds
" signify things ; as for instance, it might have been
" agreed that the figure of a crocodile might stand for
" the sound that meant what we call malice": the children
"of
2;]8 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part L
" of the priests were early taught that the figure of a
" crocodile stood for such a sound, and, if they did not
" know the meaning of the sound, it would certainly
" stand with them ior a sound; though, as the sound,
" it signified also a quality or thing; and they might
" afterwards he taught the meaning of this sound; "as
" words are only sounds, which sounds we agree shall
" signiiy such and such things ; so that, to children,
" words only stand for sounds, which relate to such
" things as they know nothing of; and, in this sense, we
" say children learn many things like parrots, what they
" do not understand, and their memories are exercised
" only about sounds, till they are instructed in the
" meaning of the words. This I thought it might be
" proper to observe, as some say hieroglyphics stood for
" things and not for words, if sounds articulated in a
" certain manner are words. And though it may be
" said, that in this case, when different nations, of dif-
* ferent languages, agree on common characters, that
" stand for certain things they agree on, that then such
" figures stand for things : this will be allowed ; but
" then they stand for sounds too, that is, the sounds in
" each language that signify such things : and, as ob-
"served before, to children, who know nothing of the
" several things they stand for ; to them they are only
"marks that express such and such sounds: so that
" these figures stand not for things alone, but as words,
" for sounds and things *. *
The design of this passage, the reader sees, is to
oppose the principle I went upon, in explaining the
Egyptian hieroglyphics, That they stood for things, and
not for words. But that is all he sees ; for the obscure
expression, arising from a confusion of ideas, will not
suffer one to do more than guess at the proof he aims at ;
which seems to be this That hieroglyphics cannot be
said to stand for things only ; because things being de
noted by words or sounds ; and hieroglyphics exciting
the idea of sounds (which are the notes of things), as well
as the idea of the things themselves, hieroglyphics stand
both for sounds and things. This seems to be his
argument, put into intelligible language. But, for fear
* Pag, 228; 2-20, of a Book iutitled, A Description of the East, &c.
o
Sect. 2.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 239
of mistaking him, let us confine ourselves to his own
words.
If iiieroglypkical figures (says he) stood for words or
sounds that signified certain things, the power of hiero
glyphics seems to be the same as of a number of letters
composing such a sound that by agreement was made to
signify such a thing. Without doubt, if hieroglyphics
stood for sounds, they were of the nature &i words, which
stand for sounds. Hut this is only an hypothetical pro
position : let us see therefore how he proves it.
FOR hieroglyphics, AS WORDS, seem to have stood for
sounds, and sounds signify things ; as for instance, it
MIGHT have been agreed that t/ic Jigure of a- crocodile
MIGHT stand for the same sound that meant what we
call malice. The propriety of the expression is as re
markable as the force of the reasoning, i. Instead of
saying, but hieroglyphics, he says, for hieroglyphics ;
which not expressing an illation, but implying a reason,
obscures the argument he would illustrate. 2. He says,
hieroglyphics, as words, seem to hai e stood for scundx*
Just before he said, hieroglyphics stood for words on
sounds. Here they are AS words, or, like words, and
seem to stand ion sound. What must we stiek to ? are
words sound? or, do they stand for sound? He has
given us both to chuse of. But it is n t himself should
chuse first : which not having yet done, w r e go on,
3. Lastly, to complete all, he corroborates this seeming
truth by an instance in which the possibility of its standing
for a sound is made a proof of the Hktlihood of its so
doing; // MIGHT (says he) have been agreed that the
figure cf a crocodile MIGHT stand, c.
But he makes amends for his former diffidence in what
follows. The children cf the pritsis were early taught
that the Jigure of a crocodile stood for such a sound, and
if they did not know the meaning of the sound, it would
certainly stand with them for a sound. This indeed is
an anecdote. But where did he learn that these children,
before they could decipher the sounds of their own lan
guage, were taught hieroglyphics? Till now, hierogly
phics were understood to be reserved for those instructed
in their secret and mysterious science. But let us sup
pose that they were taught to children amongst their
first
240 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
first elements : yet even here, as we shall see from the
nature of the thing, they could never stand as marks for
words or sounds. When a child is taught the power of
letters, he learns that those letters, that compose the word
malice, for instance, express the sound: which, naturally
arising from a combination of the several powers of each
letter, shews him that the letters stand for such a sound
or word. But when he is taught that the figure or
picture of a crocodile signifies malice, he as naturally and
necessarily conceives (though he knows not the meaning
of the word) that it stands for some thing signified by
that word, and not for a sound : because there is no
natural connexion between jigure and a sound, as there
is bet ween Jigure and a thing. And the only reason why
the word malice intervenes, in this connexion, is because
of the necessity of the use of words to distinguish things,
and rank them into sorts. But the veriest child could
never be so childish as to conceive that when he was told
the figure of a beast with four legs and a long tail signified
malice, that.it signified the sound si malice; anymore
ttan if he were told it signified a crocodile, that it sig
nified the sound of the word crocodile. The truth is, the
ignorant often mistake words for things, but never things
for words. The former is so true, that they frequently
take the name of a thing for its nature ; and rest contented
in the knowledge which that gives them. I remember a
country fellow staring at the picture of an elephant, a
thing he had never seen before, asked his friend who
stood by, What it was ? and, on his answering, that it
was the great Czar, inquired no further, but went away
well satisfied in his acquaintance with the strange beast.
Yet I apprehend he did not understand his informer to
mean that it signified only the sound of that word. But
perhaps our Author will say, the cases are different ;
that the elephant was a mere picture, and the crocodile
a sign or mark. But I have proved at large that the
ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics were at first mere pic
tures; and that all the alteration they received, in
becoming marks, was only the having their general use of
conveying knowledge rendered more extensive and ex
peditious.
To
Sect. 2.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS.
To proceed ; our Author considers next what he appre
hends may be thought an objection to his opinion, And
though (says he) it men/ be said that, in this case, where
different nations oj different Ian uages agree on common
characters, that stand for certain things they agree on,
that then such Jig> ires stand j or things. To which he
answers, This wilt be allowed, but then they stand for
sounds too, that is, the sounds in each language that
signify such things. lie who can allozv this, and without
injury to his cause, need be under no fear of ever giving
his adversary advantages. We may expect to hear him
say next, when disputing about the colour of an object
that it is black, will be allowed ; but then it is white too.
For a mark for things can no more be a mark for sounds,
than black can be while. The reason is the same in
both; the one property excludes the other: thus, if
hieroglyphic marks stand for things, and are used as
common characters by various nations differing in speech
and language, they cannot stand for sounds ; because
these men express the same thing by different sounds;
unless, to remove this difficulty, he will go farther, and
say, not, as he did before, that one hieroglyphic icord (to
use his own language) stood for one sound, but, that it
stands for an hundred. Again, if hieroglyphic marks
stand for sounds, they cannot stand for things: not for
those things which are not signified by such sounds; this
himself will allow : nor yet, I affirm, for those which
are; because it is the sound that stands for the thing
signified by the sound, and not the hieroglyphic mark.
But all this mistake proceeded from another as gross*
though less glaring, namely, that words stand both for
sounds and things, which we now come to. For he con
cludes thus, So that these jigures (viz. hieroglyphics )
stand not for things alone, but, as zi-ortis, for sounds and
things. An unhappy illustration ! which has all the
defects, both in point of sense and expression, that a
proposition can well have. For if, by words, he meant
articulated sounds, then the expression is nonsense, as
affirming, that sounds stand for sounds. And that hi
meant so is possible, because, in the beginning of th*
passage quoted, he uses words for articulate sounds
Hieroglyphics, says he, stood for words, on cu%uk. But
i. it
242 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
if, by wordy, he meant letters (and that he might mean
so, is possible likewise, for he presently afterwards uses
wordy in that sense too Hieroglyphics ay words, says
he, seem to have .stood for sounds) then the proposition is
only false; the plain truth being this, Letters stand for
sounds only ; which sounds they naturally produce ; as
sounds arbitrarily denote things.
But to he a little more particular ; as in this distinction
lies the judgment which is to be made, if ever it be rightly
* ,~ . "
made, of the controversy between us. All this confusion
of counter-reasoning proceeds, as we observed before,
first, from not reflecting that letter*, which stand for
words, and hieroglyphic* which stand for things, have
not an arbitrary but natural designation. For as the
powers of letters naturally produce words or sounds, so
the figures of hieroglyphics naturally signify things :
cither more simply, when they express substances ; or
more artificially, when they denote modes; yet in neither
case arbitrarily: but by representation in the first, and
by analogy in the last. Secondly, from his not consider
ing, that as we cannot think nor converse about things
cither accurately or intelligibly without iwrds, so their
intervention becomes necessary in explaining the marks
of things, lint therefore, to make hkwglyphics th$
marks of sounds, because sounds accompany things^
would be as absurd as to make letters the marks oj
things, because things accompany sounds. And, who
ever (besides our Author) said that letters signified things
as well as sounds? unless he had a mind to confound all
human meaning. If he chose to instruct, or even to be
understood, he would say, that letters naturally produced
sounds or words ; and that words arbitrarily denoted
things : and had our Author spoken the same intelligible
language, and told us that hieroglyphics naturally ex
pressed things, and that things were arbitrarily denoted
by words, he would indeed have spared both of us tho
present trouble, but then he had said nothing new. But
it is possible he might be led into his conclusion by mis
taking, for Egyptian, a ridiculous kind of rebus-writing
more ridiculously called hieroglyphics, the senseless
amusement of our idle people, in which, indeed; the
figures stand only for sounds. As for those significative
. figure*
Sect. 2.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 243
figures properly called hieroglyphics, they never denoted
other than tilings. If there ever were an exception, it
was in a late traveller; whose significative Egyptian
figures, I am told, are not so properly the representatives
of the things themselves, as of the writer s words, or his
verhal descriptions to the ingraver. But there is no end
of correcting the extravagancies of a perverse imagina
tion. Here we have one, who is for making the Egyptian
hieroglyphics a kind of letters : \ve have lately heard of
another, still more at defiance with common sense, who
is for making the Hebrew letters a kind of hieroglyphic
characters*. And this without ever having travelled
for it.
But
* See Proposals fur printing by subscription the Look o/\Tob in the
Hebrew character, and now first decyphered info English, dated
July 1, 174..3. From which, I shall beg leave to borrow a specimen
of the Undertaker s reasoning and eloquence. " To obviate,"
says he, " any scruples of alarm which the appearance of novelty
" and p:irndox might occasion, it ma} be proper to acquaint the
** reader What? that the new version of Job, now offered to the
" public, was made independently of any Translation, Commen-
" tator, or Critic," &c. Without doubt it was a ready way to
quiet all alarms, arising from the appearance of novelty, to tell his
readers, the appearance was rcuL Jlut perhaps by obviating any
scruples of alarm, this great linguist might mean, what the words
naturally imply, the freeing his reader from any scruples about the
uncharitableness of being alarmed to one s neighbours discredit
without very apparent cause. And if this were his meaning, he
has certainly set his reader s conscience at eass. But with regard
to the alarm itself, 1 know but ona way of stilling that; which is,
the reasonable prospect his reader has that this, which is now a
noiclty and paradox, is likely to continue so.
He gees on " In the mean time, if the sagacious reader is
" prompted to search alter truth, too long coiu-caled in her mys-
" terious recesses let him guard against ail systematical notions,
" and assume no other hypothesis but this, that the best sense
ft which can be affixed to the jf</trev letters, consistently with the
" context, and with the laws of tne character, is the genuine sense
" of the Writer." The context, does he say ? Why, the context is
yet to make; as well as the sense that is to he affixed to the Hebrew
letters. And if, when he has them both in his hands, he cannot
make them agree, he must be the very dullest of all his bungling
tribe. The man had heard, somewhere or other, of that "inK*
critical canon, of interpreting agreeably to the context, which means
only that the parts should conform to the whole, and to one
another; and the more obscure be explained by the more intelli
gible ; and this, he has innocently applied to parts and a yhule that
R. 2 ar
244 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part 1.
But our Author seems to have been misled by a wrong
imagination ; that the public would expect it of a tra
veller to be intimately conversant in all the old learning
and religion of the places he had visited : as if these
were to be picked out of the rubbish of the dead walls
in which they were once contained, rather than from the
living monuments of their contemporary inhabitants.
But sure the learned world is less unreasonable; this
would exceed even tiie old .Egyptian exaction, and be
requiring brick, not indeed without strazc, for enough of
that, we see, is to be gathered in rambling thrmigh the
laud; but, what is worse, without materials. However,
to this imagination it appears we owe his account of the
^hieroglyphics in the prcxc/tt, and of the -wi/f/to^i/ (if the
antioii Egyptians, in the preceding chapter; which he
introduces in this extraordinary manner: " As the mylho-
" logy, or fabulous religion of the ancient Egyptians)
;c may be looked on, in a great measure, as the founda-
" tion of the heathen religion, in most other parts; so it
" may not be improper to give some account of the
" origin of it, as it is delivered by the most ancient
" authors,
are to be all of his own making; which he may make as obscure
at least, it not ay intelligible, us he p e^r-s.
Having thus tlrorgly pluwctl himself with his proy-oofie quill,
he at length takes his (light il Thus prepared," he SUNS, " lie will
r * defy difficulty and scorn assistance; c,sieernin<i an officious hint
" an affront to his genius, or suspecting lit: was envied the plea-im?
" of investigating i:he theorem. Fantastic glory ! short-lived plea-
" sure ! that taust vanish into indignation, for not havitg sooner
" perceived so transparent an artiiice." But here we leave him.
lie now soars out of tight, and becomes inscrutable to mortal e\< s.
Indeed, he might-have passed without any notice at all, had lie
not betrayed his kind when he attempted to roar. For, though it
be his business to possess the public with an high idea of tho
knowledge he is about to open !o thuu from the discovery of a
new real CIPHER, yet he can t, for his life (even in this vs-ry
specimen} forbear to call it a HACEKDOTAL jargona gibberish <>f
their even. Let the priests then look to themselves. Here is a new
church-decipherer, who has not only discovered they are accus
tomed to write in jargon, but has also found the key. We know
them to be always plotting against the government of nature: the
public therefore cannot but be as impatient for their conviction, as
this decipherer is for the filling, his subscription: which, as itwiil be
the means of satisfying both, I would beg leave to recommend to
the.ir consideration. Subscriptions are taken in by J Nourse at th&
Lamb without Temple-Bar.
Sect. 2.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 245
" authors, which may give some light both to the de-
" scription of Egypt, and also to the history of that
" country. \Ve may suppose, that the ancients were
"the hest judges of the nature of their religion; and
" consequently, that all interpretations of their mytho-
" logy, by men of fruitful inventions, that have no sort of
" foundation in their writings, are forced, and such as
" might never he intended by them. On the contrary,
" it is necessary to retrench several things the ancients
" themselves seem to have invented, and grafted on true
" iiistory ; and, in order to account for many things,
" the genealogies and alliances they mention must in
" several respects be false or erroneous, and seem to have
" been invented to accommodate the honours of the same
" deities to different persons, they were obliged to deify,
" who lived at different times ; and so they were obliged
" to give them new names, invent genealogies, and some
" different attributes. pp. 221, 222.
He says, ff e may suppose that the Ancients \ccre the
best judges of the nature -of their religion. But the
Ancients, here spoken of, were not Egyptians, but
Greeks ; and the mythology here spoken of, was not
Greek, but Egyptian : Therefore these Ancients might
well be mistaken about the nature of a religion which
they borrowed from strangers ; the principles of which,
they themselves tell us, were always kept secreted from
them. But this is not all, they in fact were mistaken;
and by no means good judges of the nature of their
religion, if we may believe one of the most authentic of
these Ancients, HKHOPOTUS himself, where discoursing
of the Greeks he expressly says, " But the origin of
" each god, and whether they are all from eternity, and
" what is their several kinds or natures, to speak the
" truth, they neither knew at that time nor since*/
He goes on and COX^EQULXTI v that ail interpre
tation* of their mythology by wen of Jruitjui inventions,
that have no sort of foundation in }heir writ uigs, are
forced, and ,\ttch as might never he, intended hij them.
This is indeed a truth, but it is no CQxsi:qi;E\ci>:,
J< Qzuv, SS TE E* v&txv Grx.il sq, cxo~o re
TO. s /^aa, xx imrssfio (4*%^ $ vrpw rs -^ y&c, u$ tfow 7^ya. Lib. ii.
cap. 33.
K therefore
246 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
therefore impertinent. For, whether the Ancients were,
or were not, the best judges ; whether the moderns have,
or have not, fruitful inventions, yet if their interpreta
tions have no sort of foundation in undent writings, it is
certain they are forced, and suck as might never be in
tended by them. But what does he get by this hypothe
tical proposition, more than the discredit of begging his
question ?
But the most extraordinary, is his making it an addi
tional reason for leaving the moderns, and sticking to the
Ancients, that the Ancients tJiemselves seem to hare
invented and -grafted on true history, and, in order (he
says) to account for many things, the genealogies and
alliances they mention, must in several respects be false
or erroneous, and seem to have been invented, etc. Now, if
the ancients were thus mistaken, the moderns sure might
be excused in endeavouring to set them ridit : therefore
O O
to a plain reasoner, this would seem to shew the use of
their interpretations. But this use is better understood
from our Author s own example ; who, in the chapter we
are upon, has attempted to give us some knowledge of
antiquity without them.
And here we find, the ancient account, to which he so
closely adheres, is not only fabulous, by his own con-
fession ., but contradictory, by his own representation,
a confused collection of errors and absurdities ; the very
condition of antiquity which forced the moderns to have
recourse to interpretations : and occasioned that variety
Avhereon our Author grounds his charge against them.
A charge however in which his Ancients themselves will
be involved ; for they likewise had their interpretations ,
and were, if their variety would give it them, at least, as
fruitful in their inventions. How differing, for instance,
were they in opinion concerning the origin of ANIMAL
WORSHIP * ! Was our Author ignorant that so extraor
dinary a superstition wanted explanation ? By no means.
Yet tor fear of incurring the censure of a fruitful inven
tion, he, instead of taking the true solution of a modern
critic; or even any rational interpretation !" of the
ancient
* See Div. Leg, Book iv. 4.
f This, at least, the learned author of the late Defence of tht
prime Ministry of Joseph has thought it but decent to do, (p. o2 l 2.J
whom
Sect. 2.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 247
ancient mythologist, whom yet he professes to follow,-
contents himself with that wretched fable of Typhous
dividing
whom I just mention here because lie does not so properly come
within the purpose of this Pamphlet. For as, in several parts of
his Defence, he consents to me without acknowledgment ; so, in
others, he diflers from me without contradiction, I have another
reason not to examine the grounds of his difference, and that is,
because I apprehend he may, on second thoughts, retract his
opinion on every of those points, -as he seems already to haw done
in one or two. Thus, for instance, speaking (p. 522.) of ike origin,
of Brute-worship, in Egypt, lie says, " Hut there is another
" reason [of Brute-worship] assigned by Lucian, that to me is the
" most probable of all. lie tells us that the Egyptians found out
" how to measure the motions of the heavenly bodies, and how to
u compute years and months and seasons. They divided that
" part .of the heavens and the fixed stars stationed in it, through
" which the moveable stars and planets pass, into twelve parts,
" and represented eiich part by some proper different animal of
" their own. And from hence arose many sorts of sacred riles iii-
" Egypt," &c. Yet, at p. 458, he assigns a very different original :
" I think there is little doubt but that the monstrous figures of the.
" Egyptian gods, and great part of their stupid idolatry and beast-
" worship, took its rise from these hieroglyphic characters." So
again, p. 472, speaking of the origin of Idolatry, he makes the first
species of it to be HERO-WORSHIP: " And I think (says he) that
u the account given of them \_the Sons of the Elohim in the antcdi-
" liiwan World] by the historian, that they were the mighty men of
" old, men of the name, us the Hebrew expresses it, famous and
" remarkable from ancient ages, points them out as the most
" ancient, gods and heroes; a supposition that we shall see pre- 1
" sently confirmed by the testimony of profane history." Yet at
p. 51.5, lie makes the beginnings of idolatry to be. the worship of the
HEAVENLY BODIES. * These several accounts put together
" clearly shew us the rise and progress of superstition and fake
" worship in the world. It began, as it was natural to imagine it
" should, in the adoration of the heavenly luminaries, the sun,
" moon, and stars, who were supposed to preside over the day
" and night, and the various seasons of the year, and to whom
the earliest nations were taught to ascribe the origin and oiisso-
" lution of all things. Next after these the earth, and the several
" elements of which the world was supposed to consist, had ima^i-
" nary deity ascribed to them, and came in for their share of
u adoration. And as the glory of the celestial bodies, and the
" constant benefit men received by their light, warmth, and con-
t; tinual influences on the earth, first impressed men \vitli wonder,
" drew them into adoration, excited their gratitude, <;nd created
" in them an imagination of their being gods; they were AVTEU-
" WARDS led into an high veneration for their princes, whom they
44 admired for their power, prudence, strength, and knowledge:
" considering them as their benefactors who first taught them the
" use of such things as greatly tended to the preservation, security,
* .good order, and conieniencies of life/
248 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
dividing the body of Osiris into twenty-six parts, and
distributing them to his accomplices : which, being after
wards found by I$is, and delivered by her to distinct
bodies of priests to be buried with great secrecy, she
enjoined them to pay divine honours to him, and to con
secrate some particular animal to his memory. Frcm
this account (says our Author very gravely) we may sec
the reason tchy so many sacred animals were worshipped
in Egypt, p. 226. Again, the Greek account, in Dio-
dorus, of Oscriss expedition, has been shcvui to be a
heap of impossible absurdities ; yet our Author believes
it all; and would have believed as much more, rather
than have run into the rashness of any wodern invention.
13ut this matter comes under our next Section ; where v* e
have to do with a very different sort of writer; whose
regard, however, for antiquity in that point is, we con
ceive, as much too small as this Author s is too great.
Section 3.
[See Divine Legation, Book iv, 5.]
WHEN I entered on a confutation of Sir Isaac
Newton s Egyptian Chronology, I was willing, for the
greater satisfaction of the reader, to set his arguments
for the identity of Osiris ami &sostris> on which that
chronology was founded, in the strongest and clearest
light. On this account I took them as I found them
collected, ranged in order, and set together in one view,
with the greatest advantage of representation, by the very
worthy and learned Master of the Charter-House, in a
professed apology for that excellent author, But this
liberty the learned writer hath been pleased to animad
vert upon in the late Latin edition* of the tracts to
which that apology was prefixed "We are not (says he|)
* l ignorant
o
* De vcris annis D. N. Jcsu Chriati natuli $ cmartuali Disserta*
tiuncs (luce Ckioaologxce.
f " Non iicscimus nuperrime accidisse, ut vir ingenio & erudi-
tione praestaust, quuni ratus sit ad Diviuam Legationem Mosis
demonstrandum aliquo uiodo pcriinere, ut probetur Osiris LOU
esse idem cum Sesostri, onuiia Imc allata in lu&um jocumque
verterit, instituta comparatione Arthuii illius iabulosi cum
Wilhelmo Noniianno,quos iequc bonis ratiouibus in unum hoini-
| ]). WarbuTtoi) Divt Leg, Mods pcmoust. &t. Tcir:. ii.
Sect. 3.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 249
" ignorant of what has lately happened, that the Author
" of The Divine Legation, supposing it, some how or
" other, to concern 3-fosess divine mission to prove that
" Osiris was not the same with Sesostris, hath turned all
" that is here said into ridicule, by a comparison made.
" between the fabulous Arthur and II il Ham the Norman;
" who, he says, may be made one by as good reasons
a (though they have scarce any thing alike or in common
" with one another) as those which we have brought to
" confound Osiris with Sesostris: and on this point he
" draws out a disputation through seventy pages and
" upwards ; wherein, notwithstanding, he neither denies
" nor confutes, but only laughs at what we have here
" said of Sesostris. It is true indeed that some other of
" Newton s assertions he does oppose, as those concern-
" ing the late invention of arts, arms, and instruments by
" some certain king ; and of this part of the argument
" he has the better. For that these things were found
" out by the Egyptians long before the age of Sesostris,
" holy Scripture commands us to believe : but whether
" found out by any of their kings, is not so certain.
However, these were matters we never touched upon,
" as relating nothing to our purpose ; nor do they yet
u induce us to recede from that conclusion of the famous
" Nfftotot*, That Sesac was Sesostris, Osiris, and Bacchus*
" But the cause being now brought before the public, let
" the learned determine of it." Thus far this candid and
ingenuous writer.
He says, the Author of the Divine Legation supposes
that it sonic how or other concerns Moses s divine mission
to prove Osiris not the same with Sesostris; which seems
to
" nem conflari posse ait (quarnvis nihil fere habeaut inter se com-
" mune aut simile) ac nosOsirin cum Scbostri conl midimus. Et de
hac re disputationem in 70 pagiuas & ultra produdt. In qua
" tameu haec uostra de Sesostri neque nrgat neque refellit, sed
" irridet. Alia vcro quacdam Newtoui dicta de hero inventis ab
" uliquo rege artibus, armis, instrumentis opjjugnat, et ea quidem
" parte causa? vincit. Nam ut ista longe ante besostris aUatem
4< apud ./Egyptios reperta sint, Script lira sacra jubet credere; ab
" ullo unquani regum inventa esse baud ita cerium, bee! ea prius
* non attigimus, ut qua} nihil ad propositum nostrum attinent,
" neque mine nos movent, ut pedem retrahamus ab ista Cl. New-
** toni conclusione .Scsacum, Sesostrim, Osiiin & Bacchum fuisse:
* * i-ite jam contestata judiceiit eruditi." In Dedic. pp. xii. xiii.
350 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
to imply that this learned person doth not see how it
concerns it. And yet afterwards he owns, that Scripture
(meaning the writings of Moses) mil not a/low m to
believe, with Sir Isaac, that the invention of arts, arms,
and instruments, was so late as the time of Sesostris.
Now it follows, as I have shewn, by certain consequence, 1
that, if Osiris and Sesostris were one and the same, then
the invention of arts was as late as the time of Sesostris.
But this contradicting-Scr/p^wrr, or the writings of Moses ^
as the learned writer himself conicsseth, the reader sees
how it concerns Moses s mission to prove Osiris not the
mine with vSesostris.
The learned writer, speaking of the comparison I had
made between Arthur and William the Norman, says,
they have scarce any thing alike or in common with one
another. I had brought together thirteen circumstances
(the very number the learned writer thinks sufficient to
establish the identity of Osiris and Sesostris) in which
they perfectly agreed. I am persuaded he does not
suspect me of falsifying their history. He must mean
therefore that thirteen in my comparison, is scarce any
thing, which, in his, is every thing.
He goes on, in a disputation of seventy pages and
upwards the Author of the Divine Legation neither denies
nor confutes, hut only laughs at ichat we have said of
Sesostris. What is it the learned writer hath said of
Sesostris ? Is it not this ? That between his history and
that of Osiris there are many strokes of resemblance :
from whence he infers (with Sir Isaac) that these two
heroes were one and the same. Now if he means I have
not denied nor confuted this resemblance, he says true.
I had no such design. It is too well marked by antiquity
to be denied. Neither, let me add, did I laugh at it
"What I laughed at (if my bringing a similar case is to be
called by that word) was his inference from this resem
blance, that therefore Osiris and Sesostris were one and
the same. But then too I did more than laugh : I both
denied and confuted it. First I denied it, by shewing that
this resemblance might really be, though Osiris and &-
sostris were two different men, as appeared by an equal
resemblance in the actions of tico different men, Arthur
and William the Norman. But as the general history of
ancient
Sect. 3.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 251
ancient Egypt would not suffer us to believe all that the
Greek writers have said of this resemblance, \ then ex
plained the causes that occasioned their mistaken accounts
of the two persons, from whence so perfect a resem
blance arose. Secondly, I confuted it, by shewing from
the concurrent testimony of antiquity, and from several
internal -arguments deducible from that testimony, that
Osiris and Sesostris were in fact two different persons,
living in two very distant ages.
The learned writer proceeds It is true indeed that
some other of New ton s assertions he does oppose, as those
concerning the late invention of arts, arms, and instru
ments, and in this part of the argument he gets the
better. But if I have the better here, it is past dispute
I overthrow the whole hypothesis of the identity of
Osiris and Sesostris. For, as to that resemblance, which
antiquity hath given them, that, considered singly, when
the pretended late invention of arts hath been proved a
mistake, will indeed deserve only to be laughed at. But
were it, as Sir Isaac Newton endeavoured to prove, that
the invention of arts was no earlier than the time of
Sesostris or Scsac, there is then indeed an end of the
ancient Osiris of- JE-gypt; and he so much boasted of by
that people can be no other than the Sesostris of this
Author. For the very foundation of the existence of the
(indent Osiris was his civilizing Egypt, and teaching them
the arts of life: but if this were done by Sesostris, or
in his reign, then is he the true Osiris of Egypt. As on
the contrary, were the invention of arts as early as
Scripture history represents it, then is Egypt to be
believed, when she tells us that Osiris, their inventor of
arts, was many ages earlier than Sesostris their conqueror:
and consequently all Sir Isaac Newt on s identity separates
and falls to pieces. In a word, take it which way you
will, if Osiris were the same as Sesostris, then must the
invention of arts (for all antiquity have concurred in
giving that invention to Osiris} be as late as the age of
Sesostris, the Scsac of Newton: but this, Scripture history
will not suffer us to believe. If, on the other hand,
Osiris and Sesostris were not the same, thea was the
invention of arts (and for the same reason) much earlier
than the age of Sesostris; as indeed all mankind thought
before
252 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
before Sir Isaac. These were the considerations which
induced that great man, who so well understood the
nature and force of evidence, to employ his whole sagacity
of criticism in proving the invention of arts to be about
the age of his Sesostris or 8esac. And is it possible he
should have a follower who cannot sec that he hath done
this ? or the necessity he had of doing it ? It will be
said, perhaps, " that Sir Isaac has, indeed, argued much
" for the low* invention of arts: but hath neither inforced
" it under the name of an argument, nor stated it in the
** form here represented." The objection would ill
become a follower of the great New ton, who should
know- that his master s method, as well in these his cri-
tical&s in his physical inquiries, was to form the principal
members of his demonstration with an unornamented
brevity, and leave the suppiial of the small connecting
parts to his render s capacity. Besides, in so obvious,
so capital, so necessary an argument for this identity, it
had been a ridiculous distrust of common sense, after
he had spent so much pains in endeavouring to prove the
low invention of arts, to have ended his reasoning in this
formal manner: " And now, reader, take notice that
" this is a conclusive argument for the identity of Osiris
" and Sesostris" Lastly, let me observe, that this very
reason which induced Sir Isaac to be so large in the
establishment of his point, the lew invention of arts,
induced me to be as large in the subversion of it. And
now some reasonable account, I hope, is given of the
seventy long pages.
What follows is still more extraordinary. However,
these were matters (says the learned writer, speaking of
the invention of arts) we never touched upon, as relating
nothing to our purpose. Here I cannot but lament the
learned writer s ill fortune. There was but one single
point, in the book he would defend, which is essentially
to his purpose, and that, he hath given up as nothing to
his purpose-, and more unlucky still, on a review of the
argument, hath treated it as an error in his author who
.took so much pains about it, but yet as an error that does
not at all affect the question. 1 or,
He concludes thus nor do they yet induce me to
recede from that conclusion of the famous Newton, that
2 Sesac
Sect 4.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 253
Sesac was Sesostris, Osiris, and Bacchus. Sesac, as I
said before, I have no concern with. And as to Bacchus,
it is agreed to be only a different name for Osiris. Tim
thing I undertook to prove was, that Osiris and Sestet ri#
were not one and the same person : But, in doing this,
I did not mean to say that Osiris was not one of the
names of Scsost ra. Tins is a very different proposition;
and the rather to be taken notice of, because I suspect
a quibhle in the words of the learned writer, which would
confound the difference. Nor is this suspicion unrea
sonable. For I have met with some who have even ven
tured to say that Sir Isaac meant no more than that
Sestetrls was AN Osiris. But if he meant no more, I
would allow him to mean any thing, and never to have
his meaning disputed. I, for my part, and so I suppose
the rest of the world, understood him to mean, " That
4k the old Osiris, famous amongst the Egyptians lor
" legislation and the invention of the arts of life, was the
" very same man with Sesostris, who, those Egyptians
" say, was a different man, of a later age, and famous
" for the conquest of the habitable world."- This was
the proposition I undertook to confute. \Yjiereiri I en
deavoured to shew u that there was a rail Osiris, such as
" the Egyptians represented him, much earlier than their
" Sewatris* And now (to use this writer s words) the
anise being brought before the Public, let the learned
del ermine of it. As to the other point, that Sesostris
went by the name of the earlier hero, this I not only
allow, but contend for, as it opens to us one of the prio"-
cipal grounds of that confusion in their stories which
hath produced a similitude of actions whereon Sir Isaac.
Newton layeth the foundation of their IDENTITY.
Section 4.
l&e Divine Legation, Book vi. 2.]
THE reverend and learned Dr. Richard Grey having
lately epitomized the Commentary of one Albert Sehultenz
on the Book of Job, hath thought fit, in the Preface to his
Abstract, to criticise my Dissertation on the same Book
1n the follow; ner : " Nor should we omit, in t- -c
"fourth plac . opinion of our countryman, Mr.
"tPar burt,
254 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
" JFarburton, who, with great sharpness of wit and
" many arguments sufficiently specious, endeavours to
" prove that the whole book of Job is dramatical and
" allegorical, yet founded in true history, and written by
" Esdra in solace of the Jews, now returned from Ba-
" by/on into their own country, and about to experience,
" contrary to their expectations, an ordinary and unequal
:f providence. Now in a matter very uncertain, and
" which hitherto hath been made more uncertain by the
" different opinions of learned men, hardly any hypo-
" thesis perhaps can be thought of which will satisty in
" all its parts *." Then having told us what Spanhcim
said,
* Non an tern pnetermittenda est, quarto, scntcntia doctis-
simi viri Warburtuni nostri, qui niagno ingenii acumine, multisque
argumentis, satis quidem speciosis, probare iiititur, Totum libruui
csse opus drafliaticum & allegoricurn, vcrae tamen historic super-
structum, ab Esdra conscriptum, in solatium Judaiorum, qui e
Babylone in suam patriam reversi, providentiana ordinariam &
inaequalem, contra atquc expectabant, jam eraut experturi. In re
admodum sane incefta, & qu;c cruditorum hominum dissensione
incertior adhuc reddita est, vix ulla forsan hypothesis excogitari
possit, qua? ex onini parte satisfaciat. Ut ad ebrum itaque sen-
tentiam accedo, qui librum Jobi omnium sacrorum codictim anti-
quissimum esse putant; ita a Moyse quidem ex autbenticis monu-
nientis desumptum, poeticeque ornatum fuisse, nullus dubito.
Atque ex nostra hac opinione ratio satis idonea reddi potcst
omnium eorum textuum, siqui sint, in quibus sive ad legem, siv^
ad historian! Judaicam ante scriptum librum, allusum .est, nou
niinus acsi ab Esdra eurn scriptum fuisse concedatur, de quo viro
-di versa sentiunt eruditi. Quod vero ad eos locos, quos ad sequi-
orum temporum historias referre putat yir doctissimus, nempc ad
Hezekias pegritudinein & convalescentiam, cap.xxxiii. 25. & exer-
citus Assyrii internecionem, cap. xxxiv. 20. ita eos intdligi ut
nihil necesse est, ita cornmodius aliter accipi posse, ex notis, ad
quas lectorem remitto, satis apparebit. Porro, opus esse drama-*
ticum, seu potius vera.m histonam forma drainatica, babituquc
poetico exoruatam, semper existimavi ; at vero subesse qucque
allegoriam, persuaderi nequeo, aiquidem non sciiptoris tantum
aitas, sed & libri scopus, quantum ego quidem video, ei sentential
adversatur. Nam quod dicit vir clariss. id pra^cipue in hoc libro
disceptari, nempe an bonis semper bona, malisque mala, an utris-
q.ue -utraque promiscue o otingant : hanc autem quazstionem (a
nobis quidem alienam, minusque i !eo perpensam) nusquam alibi
gentium prgeterquam in Judsea, nee apud ipsos Juda?os aiio quovis
tempore, quam quod assignat, moveri potuisse, id omne ex veritate
siiSB hypotheseos pendet, et mea quidem sententia, longe aliter se
habet, Nernpe id mium voluisse mitii -vidt.tur sacer scriptor, ut
piis omnibus, utcunque afflictis, humilitatis &: patienliae perpetuum
docupie.ntum ex cont?ipUtione getiuna, bine infiniiae Dei
perfectionis
Sect. 4.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 255
aid, and what his author Schnltens says, which are
nothing to the matter in hand, he goes on thus ; " There-
" fore,
perfectionis, japientice ac potentise ; illine bnmancr, qujc in sanc-
tissimis quoque viris inest, corruptionis, imbecillitatis, & ignoran-
tije. Quamvis enim in sermonibus, qui in eo habentur, de religione,
de virtute, de provideniia, Deique in raundo gubernando sapientia*
justitia, sanctitate, de uno rerum omnium principio, aliisque
gravissimis veritatibus dissertetur, hunc tamen quern dixi unicum
esse libri scopum, tarn ex initio & fine, quam ex universa ejus
ffconomia cuivis opinor manifestum erit. Ea enim, ut rem omru-m
sunimatim complectar, Jobum exhibet, primo quidem querenteni,
expostulantem, cffneni luctui indulgentem ; mox (quura, ut sacri
dramatis natura postulaba r , amicornm contradictione sinistrisqoe
uspicionibus magis magisque irritatus & lacessitus esset) impru-
dentius Deum provocantem, atque in justitia sua gloriantem ; at!
debit am tand-em summisskmem suique cognitionem reyocatum,
turn demum, nee antea, integritatis sua? tain prccmium, quaui
testimoniuin a Deo reportantem. F>x his, inquarn, apparet, noil
primario agi in hoc libro de provklentia, sive cequali, sive ina^quali,
ed de personal! Jobi iutegritate. Ilanc enim (quod oinutm)
observandum est) in dubiuin vocaverant amici, uon ideo tantum
quod afflictus esset, sed quod afflictus impatientius se gereret,
Deique justitia obmurmuraret : & qui strenuus videlicit alioruru
faortator tuerat ad torlitudinem &c constantiam, quum ipse tentare-
tur, victus labasceret. Quum accesserat sanctissinii viri njali.s
ha?c gravissiina omnium tentatio, ut tanquam improbus & liypuv
crita ab aniicis danmaretur, & quod unicum ei supererat, coiji -
sciential suse testinionio ac solatio, quantum ipsi potuerunf,
frivandus foret, quid miscro faciendum erat ? Aniicos perfidia*
& crudelitatis arguit : Deum integritatis sure tcstein vindjcemque
appellat : quum auteni nee Deus intervenijet, ad innocentiam ejus
vindicandam, nee remittereht quicquam amici de acerbis sui?
eensuns, injustisque criminaiionibus, ari supremum illud judicium
provocat in quo redemptorem sibi affuturum, Deumque a suis p;ir-
tibus staturuni, suniina cum fiducia se novisse uffirmat. Jam vero
si cardo controversial fuisset, utrum, salva Dei justitia, san.cti ia
liac vita adfligi possent, hiec ipsa declaratio litem fmire debuerat,
Sin autem de personal) Jobi innocentia disceptetur, nil mirum.
quod v^terem canere cantilennm, Jobumque ut fecerant, condemn
nare prrgerent soeii, quum Dti soliujs erat, qui corda homin.ura
cxplorat, pro certo scire, an jure merito sibi Jobus hoc solamen
attribueret, an falsam sibi fiduciam vanus arrogaret. Hac igitur
difiicultate sublata, nempe cur non statim obmutuerunt anuci,
quum de futuro jiulicio tarn solenniter magnificeque dixisset Jobus,
nil obstat quo minus celebrcm ilium contextum cap. xix, non jdts
temporali in integrum restitutione, sed de resurrectione ad vitaiu
aeternam, intelligere possis. Quod si arguments a commentator^
nostro allatis, ea quoque adjeceris qune vir omni laude. major, jam
episcopus Sarisburiensis, in dissertatione sua, J)e scntentla vctcrum-
de circumstantiis fr c nscqucntiis lapsus humani pulcherrime cgn :
texuit, nil ultra. ; credo, desideraris, vel ad libri antiqui-tatem, vei
ad vexatissimi hujus loci sensum. coufinnandum. Praf. pp, x .\y,
256 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
" fore as I am of their opinion who think the hook of
" Job the oldest in the canon, so I am fully persuaded that
" it was written by Moses himself, who took it from
" authentic records, and put it into the dress of poetry.
" And, on this our opinion, a good account may be given
" of all those texts, if any such there he, wherein allusion
" is made to the Jewish law or history before the hook was
" written, no less than if we should allow it to have been
"written byAWmv, of whom the learned think diffe-
" rently. And as to those places which, in the opinion
" of the Author of The Divhie Legation, refer to his-
" tories of later tiines, such as the sickness and recovery
" of Hczekifih, cap. xxxiii. 2,5. and the destruction of the
" Assyrian army, cap. xxxiv. 20. it will sufficiently appear
" by the notes, to which I refer the reader, that there is
" no need to understand them in this sense, and that they
" are more commodiously understood otherwise. Fur-
" ther, that the work is dramatical, or, to speak more
" properly, a true history in the form of a drama, and
" adorned with a poetic dress, was always my opinion :
u but that any allegory lies under it 1 can by no means
" persuade myself to believe ; because not only the age
" of the writer, but the very scope of the book (as far as
" I can see) leads us to conclude otherwise. For as to
" what this writer says, that the main question handled
" in the book of Job is whether good happens to the good,
" and evil to evil men, or whether both happen not
" promiscuously to both : and that this question (a very
" foreign one to us, and therefore the less attended to)
" could never bo the subject of disputation any where
" but in the land ofjudea, nor there neither at any other
" time than that which he assigns: all this I say,
" depends on the truth of his hypothesis; and is, in my
" opinion, far otherwise. For the sole purpose of the
" sacred writer seems to me to be this, to compose a
" work that should remain a perpetual document of
" humility and patience to all good men in affliction, from
" this two-fold consideration, as on the one hand, of the
" infinite perfection, pow-er, and wisdom of God ; so on
" the other, of human corruption, imbecility, and igno-
" ranee, discoverable even in the best of men. For
" although in the speeches that occur there be much talk
" of
Sect. 4.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 257
" of religion, virtue, and Providence ; of God s wisdom,
"justice, and holiness, in the government of the world;
" of one principle of all things, and other most impor-
" tant truths ; yet that this, which I have assigned, is the
," only scope of the book, will appear manifest to every
" one, as well from the beginning and the end, as from
" the economy of the whole. For to say all in a word,
" it first presents Job complaining, expostulating, and
" indulging himself in an ungovernable grief, but soon
" after (when, as the nature of the sacred Drama re-
" quired, by the contradiction of his friends and their
" sinister suspicions he became more and more teased
" and irritated) rashly challenging God, and glorying in
" his own integrity; yet at length brought back to a due
"submission and knowledge of himself; and then, at last,
" and not before, receiving from God both the reward
" and testimony of his uprightness. From all this, I say,
" it appears that the personal integrity of Job, and not
" the question concerning an equal or unequal provi-
" dence, is the principal subject of the book. For that
" it was (and there our attention should be fixed), which
" his friends doubted of; not so much on account of his
" affliction, as for the not bearing his affliction with
" patience, but complaining of the justice of God. And
" that he who was an able adviser of others to fortitude
" and constancy, should, when his own trial came, sink
" under the stroke of his disasters. See cap. iv. ver. i 2.
" 34. Now when the most grievous trial of all was
" added to the other evils of this holy person, to be con-
" demned by his friends as a profligate and a hypocrite,
" and to be deprived, as much as in them lay, of his only
" remaining support, the testimony of a good conscience,
" what was left for the unhappy man to do? lie accuses
" his friends of perfidy and cruelty; he calls upon God
" as the witness and avenger of his integrity : but when
" neither God interposed to vindicate his innocence, nor
" his friends forbore to urge their harsh censures and
"unjust accusations, he appeals to that last judgment, in
" which, with the utmost confidence, he affirms that he
" knew, his Redeemer would be present to him, mid that
**. God would declare in his favour. But now. if the
i: hinge of the controversy had turned on this, Whether
VOL. XI. S " or
2.58 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Parti.
" or no, consistently with God s justice, good men could
" I*e afflicted in this life, this declaration ought to have
11 finished the debate: but if the question were conceru-
" ing the personal innocence of Job, it was no wonder that
" they still sung their old song, and went on as they had
" begun, to condemn their old afflicted friend, since it
" was in the power of God alone to explore the hearts
" of men, and to know for certain whether it was Job s
" piety that rightly applied a consolation, or whether it
u was his vanity that arrogated a false confidence to
" himself.
-". This difficulty therefore being removed, namely, why
" his friends were not immediately put to silence when
" Job had so solemnly and magnificently talked of a
" future jiuUmient, nothing hinders us trom applying
" that celebrated text cap. xix. not to a temporal resti-
" tutiun to his former condition, but to a resurrection to
" eternal life. But if, to the arguments brought by owr
" Commentator, you add also those, which a writer
"above ;ill praise, the present Bishop of Sarum, hath
" most beautifully interwoven in his Dissertation on the
" Opinion of the Ancients conccrnh.-g the Circumstances
." and Conveniences of the Lapse vj Mankind, 1 believe you
" will want nothing to confirm you in the opinion of the
" antiquity of the book, and my sense of this most
" perplexed passage." Thi;s far the very candid and
learned writer ; who will not be displeased with me for
examining the reasons lie hath here offered against my
explanation of the book of Job.
He begins with saying, \\\t I have by many arguments
totfjiciently specious, endeavour id 1o prove that the whole
hook of Job is dramatical and allegorical, yet jounded in/
true mtds y, and written bij Esdra in solace oj the. Jews,
&c. And then iiurnediately subjoins, .Jh cw in a matter
rcrij uncertain, (n;du hich< hitherto iialJi been made more
uncertain by the different cpinicm oj learned men, hardly
ami hypothesis can be thought ofichic i wilt satisfy in alt*
its penis. Let us attend to the opening of his cause.
i . lie owns my hypothesis to be mf/icier} llij.^pecioiis 7 and
vei calls the subject, which this hypothesis explains, a
imi Her very tvnczrt&ffi*, nay, MITIJICBTO rendered more
uncertain. I*Y what r \vhy, if you will believe himself,
, by
Bect/4.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 359
arguments sufficiently specious; for this is the
character he is pleased to give or these ot mine, which
fill up the measure of those diffrc^2^opimori^i}on\
/whence so great uncertainty is accumulated. 2. He says
that in an uncertain mat^> scarce any hypothesis can
satisfy. Now, though this be a commonplace thought,
it is nevertheless a very false one. For it is only in
uncertain matters that hypotheses are invented, to be
applied, to account for. the appearances of things: and
sure it is not of the: nature of an hypothesis to be
it ns a tis factory? 3. It is equally false that an uncertain
.matter is, .otherwise than .by accident, rendered more
uncertain by diversity of opinions. For the greater the
diversity is, the greater is the chance of coming to the
truth : as the more Toads men take in an uncertain way,
the greater. the, likelihood of finding out the right. 4. It
is. not required in a satisfactory hypothesis that it should
satisfy in all its parts: for then the greatest and most
momentous truths would never be acquiesced in, since
some of the fundamental points of religion, natural and
revealed, do not satisfy in all their parts ; there being
. inexplicable objections even, to demonstrative propositions.
5.. But what is strangest of all, though he says hardly any
hypothesis can he thought of which will satisfy in all its
. parts ; yet, before he comes to the end of his paragraph,
.he has found one that does satisfy : and, stranger still, it
. is the common one, whose incapacity of giving satisfaction
.was the reason ibr the critics excogitating so many dif-
.ferent ones. However, in this hypothesis he rests, like
a prudent man as he is. Therefore .(says ,he) as. I am of
their opinion who think the book pf Job the oldest in the
. canon, xo I am fully persuaded that it was written by
Moses himself, who took it from authentic records, and
put it into the dres.s of pcetry. Indeed, to make way
through so much clou.bt and uncertainty, to an opinion he
may rind his account, in, he has kept a wicket open by the
insertion of the particle tv> ; yiv ullaforsan hypothesis-^
but this w r ill scarce serve his purpose ; for the reasons
why hcrrdly any hypothesis can satisfy, extend as well to
that he has given as to those he has rejected : unless he
will suppose the rest to be discredited by dissenting from
s 2 that)
200 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
that, and not that from the rest : which perhaps after all
Inay be his thought.
lie proceeds And on this our opinion a good account
way be green of all those texts, if any such there be,
wherein allusion is made to the Jewish taw or history
before the book was written, no less than if we should
fillvcc it to hare been written by Esdra, of whom the
learned think differently. Now, not to insist upon this,
that the common hypothesis, here followed, which makes
Closes the author, supposes him lo have wrote it before
his mission ; and consequently, before the Jewish law and
a tilth s, alluded to, were given and transacted : not, I say,
to insist on this, though no probable reason can be
assigned for -Moses s writing such a work but for the
people in captivity ; I will readily allow that Moses might
write any thing that happened to him or his people, in or
before his administration, as easily as Esdra could do.
But the question is, which of the t\vo is most likely to
have done so. Our Author grants this to be a work of
imitation, or of the dramatic kind ; in which the manners
and adventures of the persons acting are to be repre
sented. Now could Moses mistake, or, in such a work,
give without mistaking, the history of his own. time for
the history of Job s? that is, make Job speak of the
Egyptian darkness, or the passage of the Red Sea?
Adventures of the writer s own atchieving. Esdra in
deed either way might well do this, as he lived so many
ages after the facts in question. Could Euripides, for
example, have been so absurd as to make Orestes and
Clytcemnestra speak of his own time or actions ? Though
he might, without much absurdity, have made them mix
the manners, or allude to some adventures of the time of
Draco. Ikit our Author s caution deserves commen
dation; // (says he) there be any such: the use of this
is evident, that if his own solution will not hold, he may
be at liberty to denv the thing itself. But what he means,
by observing it, in discredit of Esdra?, claim, that learned
v/cu think differently of him, as if they did not think
differently of Musts too, is, I confess, not so evident.
lie gees on And as to these places, which in the opiuicn
cj the Author c/. the D. L, rtjer to histories oj later
1 1 times,
Sect 4.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 261
times, such as the sickness (Did recovery of Ilezekiah,
chap, xxxiii. ver. 25. and the destruction of ///e Assyrian
army, chap, xxxiv. ver. 20. it will sufficiently appear, by
the notes to which I refer the reader, that there Is /;#
need to understand them in this sense, and that they ai:q
more commodious ly understood otherwise. On this point
I agree to join issue with him, and to refer myself to the
judgment of the public.
Further, (says he) that the work is dramatical, or, to
speak more properly , a true history in the form of a drama,
and adorned with a poetical dress, was always -iny opinion;
but that any allegory lies under it, I can by no means
persuade myself to believe ; because not only the age cf
the writer, but the very scope cf the. book (as far as I
can see) leads us to conclude cthpnche. As to tlie scope
of the book, we shall examine that matter hy and by: but
his other argument, from the age of the writer, deserves
no examination at all, as it is a downright begging the
question ; which is concerning the writer and his age.
Now these, by reason of the writer s silence, being un
certain, must be determined by the subject -and circum
stances of the work, which are certain : for our Author,
therefore, to disprove a circumstance, brought to deter
mine the question, by an argument in which the question
is taken for granted, I should think unfair, were it not
become the authorized logic of all those writers who
give their own opinions for principles. It rests then at
last, we see, in his belief and persuasion: and this is
always regulated on the belief and persuasion of those
who went before. Thus he believes the book to be
dramatical, because others have believed so too : he
believes it not to be allegorical, because he could Jind
no other in that belief before the Author of the 1). L.^-
But let us now hear what he has to say concerning the
acope of the book.
For as to what this IFri/cr [the Author of the 7), Z,]
says, that the main question handled in the .book of Job is
whether good happens to the good, and evil to evil men, or
whether both happen not promiscuously to both ; and that
this question (a very foreign one to us, and therefore the,
less at tended to) could m -re j r be the subject cf disputation
any where but in the land of Judca, nor there neither at
s 3 any
262 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part L
any other time than that ichich he assigns; all this, I say,
depends on the truth of his hypothesis, and is, in nnj
opinion, far othencise. That which depends on the truth
of an hypothesis has, indeed, generally speaking, a very
slender foundation : and I am partly of opinion k was
the common prejudice against this support, that inclined
our Author to give my notions no better. But he should
have been a little more careful in timing his observation :
for, as it happens, what I have shewn to be the subject
of the book, is so far from depending on the truth -of -my
hypothesis, that the truth of my hypothesis depends on
what I have shewn to be the subject of the book ; and
very fitly so, as every reasonable hypothesis should bo
supported on fact. Now I appeal to the whole learned
world, whether it be not as clear a. fact that the subject
of the book of Job is whether good happens to the good,
and evil to evil men, or whether both happen: not promis
cuously to both , as that the subject of the first book of
Tuscuian Disputations is de contemnenda mtirte. O.n
this I establish my hypothesis, that the book of Job must
have been written -about the time of Esdra, because no
other assignable time can be suited to the subject. But
? tis- possible I may mistake what he calls my hypothesis :
for aught I know he may understand not that -of the
book of Job, -but that of the; book of<$& r J3iwji6 >!L4gtfr
tion. And then, by my hypothesis, he- must mean ^the
great religious principle;! endeavour to evince, THAT THE
J W-S- WER E I N- -It ; :-A LI ^ Y UN JU: R AN EXTR AORD 1 N ^<RY
PiioviDEXGEf But it will- be paying me a very unusual
compliment to -ca-li7&tf/ my : hypothesis which the Bible
was: written io testify ; - which -all- Christians pr&fe& fa
believe; and which -none tet Infidels directly deny.
-However, if this be the hypothesis he means, I need
xlesire.no better a support. --But- the truth is, my inter
pretation of the book of Job seeks support from nothing
but tiiose cbirinion rules of grammar and logic on which
the sense of ail kinds of writings are or ought to be
interpreted.
. lie goes on in this manner. For the SOLE purport -of
the sat red- ] Writer seems to me to be this, to cowpow a
work t licit should remain a perpetual document of -humility
and patience to all ^-*ltf/JjVMj^^
fold
Sect. 4-] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 2%
fold consideration, as on the one hand of the infinite, per
fection, power, and wisdom of God; so on the other, of \
human Corruption, imbecility y and ignorance, i/isfflpfr-
able even in the best of men. Such talk, in a sermon to
his parish for the sake of a moral application,, might be
right: but to speak thus to the learned world, is surely
oat of season. The critic will be apt to tell him he has
mistaken the actor tor the subject, and might on the same
principle as well conclude that the purpose of yirgifs .
Poem is not the establishment of an empire in Italy ^ but
-the personal piety of JEneas. But to be a little more;
explicit, as the peculiar nature of this work demands.
The book of Job consists of two distinct parts; the/
narrative, contained in the prologue ami epilogue; and
the argumentative, which composes the. body ot the workv?
Now when the question is of the subject of a book, who
means other than the body of it ? Yet here our Author,
by a strange fatality, mistaking the narrative part for t\\&\
argumentative, .gives us the subject of the Introduction
and Conclusion for that of the Work ; itself. And it is
very true, that the beginning and the end do exhibit a-
perpetual document of humility and patience to all goc.d
wen in affliction. Hut it is as true, that the body of the
Work neither does .nor could exhibit any such document.
First it docs not; for, that humility and patience, whi,dv :
Job manifests before his entering .into dispute, is -siio?
ceeded by rage and ostentation when he becomes heated
with unreasonable opposition. Secondly, it.aw/d nut^.
because it is altogether ..argumentative ; the subject of,
which must necessarily be a proposition debated, and not-
a document exemplified* A precept may be coin eyed
in history, but a disputation . can exhibit 013 Jy. a debated-
question. I. have shown what that question is; and he,
instead of proving that I have assigned a vywng #ne, govs,-
about to persuade the reader, that there is n
aa Vi ,,., , . ; . ; ..jirjr-fj . -^:: .. -i i; hi & - ! r--
* f; IIe procee(is, for aUho^ghin the speech^ th$t occur .
there ; be much talk ofj digion^ virtue, und .Pr^dciice^
vf God s wisdom, justice, and holiness in -the grivevjummt
s wsom, usice, an oness n -e gvevjumm
of .the world, of one, pruiripte of, all \tltiugJt* and other,*
most important truths,., yet tit at : this which -f. f have. :
a&xigncdis (lit only qcope -(if thz-booM. ^ill^J^ar majiifwt
s 4 to
264 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
to every one, as well from the beginning and the end as
from the economy of the whole. For to soy all in a word,
it first presents Job complaining, expostulating, and
indulging himself in an ungovernable grief] but scon
after (when as the nature of the sacred Drama required,
by the contradiction ofhisjriends, and their sinister suspi
cions, he became more and more teased and irritated)
rashly challenging God, and glorying in his own inte
grity: yet at length brought back to a due submission
and knowledge of himself . The reader now sees that all
this is just as pertinent as if I should say, Mr. Chilling
wort-Its famous book against Knot was not to prove tlte
religion of Protest anis a safe icay to salvatioi/, but to
give the picture of an artful caviller and a candid dis-
puter. For, although, in the arguments that occur, there
be much talk of Protestantism, Popery, infiilii^ility, a
judge of controversies, fundamentals of faith, and oihcr
niost important matters, yet that this which I have
Assigned is the only scope of the book, will appear ma
nifest to every one, as well from the beginning and the end,
as from the economy of the whole. For it first of all
presents the sophist quibbling, chicaning, and indulging
himself in all the imaginable methods of false reasoning:
and soon alter, as the course of disputation required,
resting on his own authority, and loading his adversary
with personal calumnies; yet at length, by the force of
truth and good logic, brought back to the point, confuted,
exposed, and put to silence. Now if I should say this
of the book of ChUlingu orth, would it not be as true,
and as much to the purpose, as what our Author hath
i-aiJ of the book of Job? The matters in the discourse
pt the Rdigkn of Protestants could not be treated as
thev are, without exhibiting the t\vo characters of a
sophist and a true logician. Nor could the matters in
the book of Job be treated as they are, without exhibiting
a good man in afflictions, complaining and expostulating,
impatient under the contradiction of his friends, yet at
length brought back to a due gubml&ipft, and knowledge
of himself. But therefore to make this ihe sole or chief
scope of the book, (for in this he varies) is perverting all
the rules of interpretation. But what misled him we
lave taken notice of above. And he himself points to
it,
Sect. 4.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS, 265
it, where he says, the subject I have assigned to the book
of Job appears the true both from the BEGINNING and
the EXD. It is true, he adds, and from the economy of
the whole likewise.
Which he endeavours to prove in this manner :
For it first presents Job complaining, expostulating,
and indulging himself hi an ungovernable grief : but soon
after (when, as the nature of the sacral Drama required,
by the contradiction of his friends, and their sinister
suspicions, he became more and more teased and irritated)
rashly challenging God, and glorying in his own inte
grity: yet at length brought back to a due submission
and knowledge of himself", and then at last, and not be
fore, receiving from God both the reward and testimony
of his uprightness. This is indeed a fair account of the
conduct of the Drama. And from this it appears, Jirst,
that that which he assigns for the sole scope of the
hook, cannot be the true. For if its design were to give
a perpetual document of humility and patience, how cornes
it to pass, that the author, -in the execution of this design,
represents Job complaining, expostulating, and indulging
himself in an itn governable grief, rashly challenging God,
and glorying in his own integrity ? Could a painter,
think you, in order to represent the case and safety of
navigation, draw a vessel getting with much pains and
difficulty into harbour, after having lost all her lading and
been miserably torn and shattered by a tempest? And
yet you think a writer, hi order to give a document of
humility and patience, had sufficiently discharged his
plan if he made Job conclude resigned and submissive^
though he had drawn him turbulent, impatient, and al
most blasphemous throughout the whole piece. Secondly,
ft appears from the learned Author s account of the con
duct of the Drama, that that which I have assigned for
the sole scope of the book is the true. For if, in Job s
distressful circumstance, the question concerning mi equal
or unequal Providence were to be debated : his friends*
jf they held the former part, must needs doubt of his
integrity; this doubt would naturally provoke Job s indig
nation; and, when persisted in, cause him to fly out into
the intemperate excesses so well described by our Author;
yet conscious innocence would at k ngth enable patience
to
2<56 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Parti.
to do its office, and the conclusive argument for his inte
grity, would be his resignation and submission.
. The learned writer shuts up the argument thus. From
all this, I say, it appears, that the personal integrity of
Job, and not the, question concerning an equal or unequal
Providence, is the principal subject of the lock. He had
before only told us his opinion ; and now, from his opinion,
he says it appears. But appearances, we see, are deceit
ful; as. indeed they will always be, when .they arise only
out of the fancy or inclination, and not from the real
nature of things.
But he proceeds to push his advantages. For that
[i, e. his personal integrity] it tyas which his friends
doubted of, not so much on i account, of hi* afflict ion,, as
for the not hearing his affliction znth patience, but com
plaining of the justice of God. And that he, who was
an atie qdviser vf\. others to fortitude c^ul constancy,
should, iC h-en Mis oicn \trial came, sink under f he stroJcq
of his disasters^. : But -why &f$,cn account of his affliction*?
Do not we find that even now, under this unequal dis
tribution of things, censorious, .rnqn, (and such doubtless
he will confess Jofrs comforters to have been) are but too
apt to suspect great afflictions for the punishment of secret
sins?;; How much more prone to the same suspicion
would such men be in the time of Job, when the ways of
Providence were more equal? As to his ijnpatience hi
bearing affliction, truit symptom was altogether ambigu
ous, and might as likel v denote want :of fortitude as want
of innocence, and proceed as well from the pain of an
ulcerated body as the anguish of a distracted conscience.
Weil, our Author has brought the .. Patriarch thus for
on his way to expose his : bad temper. From hence he
accompanies him to his place of rest ;. which, hq makes
to be in a bad argument., ^ow a: 7/c;* - (says the learned
Writer; the most grievous trial cf ail- mis added to the
other evils of this holy person, to be condemned by his
friends as a profligate, and an hypocrite, and to be de
prived, as much as in them lay, of his only remaining
support, .the testimony of a ; good conscience, what was left
for thej(nimp];i] man to do? lie accuses Jiis J riends .of
pe rjichj and cnuttiy ,; ; he calls .upon. God as the witness
tjnd avenger >of his integrity :< but* whfn* neither God
interposed
Sect 4.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 267
interposed to vindicate Jm iwiocaicc-, nor his friends for
bore to urge their harsh censures arid tinjust accusations,
he appeals to that last judgment, ifr whieU iviih the
utmost confidence he affirms that he knew that his-die-
deemer would he present to /////?, and that Gcd tc cufd
dec fare in -hi* favour. To understand the force of this
representation, we must have in mind this unquestionable
truth: " That be the subject of the book what it will,
"yet if the sacred Writer bring in the persons of the
"i Drama disputing, he will take care that they talk to the
"purpose." Now we both agree that Job s friends had
pretended to suspect liis integrity. r l his suspicion it was
Job s business to remove : and, if our Author s account
of the subject be true, his only business. To this end
he offers various arguments, which failing of their effect,
lie, at last (as our Author will have it), appeals to the
second coming of the Redeemer of Mankind. But was
this likely to satisfy them ? They demand a present
solution of their doubts, and lie sends them to a future
judgment. Nor can our Author say, though he would
insinuate- i\}&t this was such a .sort of appeal as dispu
tants are sometimes forced to have recourse to, when
they are run aground and have nothing more to offer:
for Jo b 9 after this, proceeds in the dispute; and urges
many other arguments \\ith the utmost propriety. Indeed
there is one way, and but one, to make the appeal per-
tinehto and that is, to suppose our Author mistaken,
when he said that the personal integrity e/ Joh, and not
the question concerning an equal or unequal Providence,
Km the main subject of the beck : and we may venture
to Suppose so -without much danger of doing him wrong:
for, the doctrine -Qf-afutu re judgment aftmds a principle
whereon to determine the question of an equal or un
equal Providence; but leaves the - ..personal integrity of
Job just as it found it. But the teamed i Author is so
little 5 solicitous for the pertinency of the argument,: that
h e * makes, as we shall now see, its impertinmce. one of
the-^eat supports of his system, - For thus he goes on :
now if the hinge of the Cokt^ovursy:had turned on
whether, or no, consistently wilfi God s justice, go,od
Gbiild be afflicted in this life, this declaration ought
; have ^-finitihtil the debate: but if the question were
concerning
268 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
concerning the personal innocence of Job, it teas no
wonder that they still sung their old song, and went on as
then had begun, to condemn their old afflicted friend \
since it was in the power of God alone to explore tlie
hearts of men, and to know for certain wliether it was
Job s piciy that rightly applied a comolativn, or whether
it was his vanity that arrogated a false confidence to
hhnself. This is a very pleasant way of coming to the
.sense of a disputed passage : not, as of old, by shewing
it supports the I Writers argument, but by shewing it sup
ports nothing but the Critics hypothesis. I had taken
it for granted that Job reasoned to the purpose, and
therefore urged this argument against understanding him
as speaking of the Resurrection in the xixth chapter :
" The disputants (say I, Div. Leg. Book vi. 2.) arc all
" equally embarrassed in adjusting the ways of Provi-
" dence. Job affirms that the good man is sometimes
" unhappy : the three friends pretend that lie never can ;
" because such a situation would reflect upon God s
"justice. Now the doctrine of a resurrection supposed
" to be urged by Job, cleared up ail this embarras. If
" therefore his friends thought it true, it ended the dis-
" pute; it false, it lay upon them to confute it. Yet
" they do neither: they neither call it into question, nor
" allow it to be decisive. But without the least notice
" that any such thing had been urged, they go on as they
" begun, to inforce their former arguments, and to con-
" fute that which they seem to understand was the only
" one Job had urged against them, viz. the consciousness
" of his own innocence." Now what says our learned
Author to this ? Why, he gays, that if I be mistaken,
and he right, in his account of the book of Job, the reason
is plain why the three friends took no notice of Job s
appeal to a resurrection; namely, because it deserved
none. As to his being in the right, the reader, I suppose,
will not be greatly solicitous, if it be one of the conse^
quences that the sacred Reasoner is in the wrong. How
ever, before we allow him to be right, it will be expected
he should answer the following questions. If, as he says,
the point in the book of Job was only his personal inno
cence, and this, not (as I say) upon the principle of
no innocent person punished^ \ would ask, how it was
possible
Sect. 4.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 269
possible that JoUs friends and intimates should be so
obstinately bent on pronouncing him guilty, the purity of
whose former life and conversation they were so well
acquainted with ? If he will say, the disputants went
upon that principle ; I then ask, how came Job s appeal
to a resurrection not to silence his opposers ? as it ac
counted for the justice of God in tiie present unequal
distribution of things.
The learned Writer proceeds This difficulty therefore
bang removed, namely , tchy his friends were riot imme
diately put to silence when Job had so solemnly and
magnificently talked of a future judgment, nothing
hinders us from applying that celebrated text chap. xix.
-not to a temporal restitution to his former condition, but
to a resurrection to eternal life. How well he has
removed the difficulty, the reader now sees. But he is
too hasty, when he adds, that now nothing hinders its
from applying the celebrated text chap. xix. to a resur
rection to eternal life. I have shewn, in my Discourse on
Job, that many things hinder us from understanding it in
this sense, besides the silence of the three friends ; such
as the silence of Elihu the moderator, nay even of God
himself the determiner of the dispute*. Which diffi
culties become still more perplexing, if indeed the sole
scope of the book be, as our Author supposes, to give a
perpetual document of humility and patience to alt good
men in affliction: for then the doctrine needed the sanc
tion of the most deliberate and authoritative speakers.
Add to tiiis, that the learned Writer s account of the
author creates new difficulties. For, can we suppose,
Moses would so clearly mention a future judgment here,
and entirely omit it in the Pentateuch? Or is-it a matter
of so slight moment that a single mention of ifc would
suffice? Indeed, were Esdra (as I suppose) the author,
much more might be said in behalf of this interpretation;
"as we have shewn that the later Prophets opened, by
degrees, the great principles of the Gospel Dispensation :
of which I would fain think the. doctrine .of \\\z rzs ur-
rtction of the body to be one. . .
lie concludes But if, to the arguments -brought by
our Commentator, you add also these,-, uhich a -iirittr
* Div, Leg. i!ook vi. 2. .
270 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part*.
above, allpraixe, the present Bishop of Sarurn, hath most
beauty ulhj interwoven in his Dissertation on The Opinion
of the Ancients concerning the Circumstances and Con
sequences of the Lapse of Mankind, / believe you zcill
icant nothing to cGnjirmyou hi the opinion of the antiquity
of the Iwol:, dtid iuij *ensc of this most perplexed passage*
.To seek refuge in that excellent Prelate, whose notions
of the nature and design of the book of Job overthrow
all he has been saying, and confirm all he has been
opposing, looks very much like distress. However, if he
will submit to the Bishop s authority for the scope of
the book in general, I shall be very willing to allow
iiis interpretation of the nineteenth chapter. Our
Author indeed does that great man s character but justice.
Yet how Dr. Sclntltem and Dr. Sherlock came to hit the
same palate, to me, I confess, is as hard to reconcile, as
how B&vius and Virgil should meet for. a model to the
same writer.
But the name of tiiat great man is auspicious to sacred
truth. One can no sooner mention him, on any occasion
of literature, than one sees him pointing out some truth
or other, capable, if attended to, of clearing up whatever
maybe in question. His line Discourse on the Book of
Job abounds with instances of this kind. One of which
falls here naturally i.i my way. And as it seems the
least supported of Lis interpretations, and, at the same
time, greatly confirms what 1 have advanced concerning
the age of the book, I shell endeavour to set it in a just
light. The truth I mean is in his interpretation of these
words of Jcb, B>i his tipirlf the fietroaisare garnished ,
his hand formed the cuoo-r;.! r> SLRPEXT*. By which,
he supposes, is meant the DEVIL, the apostate dragon,
fyxxuv aVsrarTK, as the Xcptiiciglnt, by thus translating it,
seems to have understood the place. For he reasonably
asks, How came the jonning of a crooked serpent to be
mentioned as an instance of Almighty power, and to be sei:,
as it were, upon an equal j not with the creation of the
heavens and ail the host of them. Can it possibly be
imagined (says he) that the jormlng the crooked serpent
meant no more than that God created snakes and adders^.
* Cap. xxvi. ver. 1:1.
t The- Use and lutcr.t of Prophecy, &c, 3d Edit. pp. 213,214-.
Certainly,
Sect. 4.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 27.1
Certainly, this could never be the induing. But then it
will be objected by those who are as loth to find a devil
for their tempter, as a God for their * Redeemer (imagining
they are well capable of performing both, parts them
selves), that, by the crooked serpent, is meant a great
constellation near the Arctic Pole, so called; or, at least,
that enormous trail of light to which the Pagans have
given the name of the Via Lactea: either of which will
beautify the sense, and ennoble the expression of the
context; the circumstance, of garnishbig the heavens,
being immediately precedent It must be .owned that
this interpretation has an extreme air of probability.
But it is nevertheless a false one ; as I shall now endea
vour to shew.
It is certain then that the ancient Hebrews (if we may
believe the Rabbins, who seem, in this case, to be unexcep
tionable evidence) did not, in their astronomy, represent
the stars, either single, or in constellations, by the name,
or figure, of any animal whatsoever; or distinguish them
any otherwise than by the letters of their alphabet arti
ficially applied. And this, they tell us, was their con
stant practice, till in the latter ages; when they got
acquainted with the science of the Greeks : then indeed,
they learnt the art of new tricking up their sphere, and
making it as fashionable as their neighbours. But they
did it still with modesty and reserve ; and scrupled, even
then, to admit of any human figure. The reason given
ibr this prudery (which was the dunger of hklatnj] is the
highest confirmation of the truth of their account For
it is not to be believed, that when the astronomy and
superstition of Egypt were so closely colieagued, and
that by this very means, the names given to the constel
lations, that Mows, who, under the ministry of God,
forbad the Israelites to make any likeness of any thing in
heaven above, would suffer them to make new likenesses
there: which if not, in the first intention, set up to be
worshipped, yet we know never waited long without
obtaining that honour. From all this it appears, that
neither Moses nor Esdra could call a constellation by
the name of the crooked serpent. The consequence ig,.
that his Lordship s interpretation is to be received ; there
being nothing ehe of moment to be opposed to its truth.
Lut
272 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I
But this sense, we say, gives strong support to what we
have observed, in The Drcine Legation, (book ix. ch. i.]
concerning the age of the author. It being there shewn
that, according to the method used by Providence for the
gradual opening of the .Gospel principles, we might look
to find, in this very place (as we in fact do find) the first
more express information concerning the real author oi
the Fall of Man, as recorded in the third chapter oi
Genesis.
But, to conclude with the learnt d Editor of the book of
Job. He had, I presume, given the intelligent reader
more satisfaction, if, instead of labouring to evade two or
three independent though corroborating proofs of the
truth of my hypothesis, he had well accounted how that
hypothesis, which he affects to represent as & false one,
should be able to lay open and unfold the whole Poem
upon one entire, elegant, and noble plan, that does
honour to the sacred Writer who composed it. And not
only so, but to clear up, consistently with that plan, all
those particular texts, whose want of light had made
them hitherto an easy prey to critics and interpreters
iron) every quarter. And this, in a Poem become through
time and negligence so desperately perplexed, that com
mentators chose rather to lind their own notions in it than
to seek for those of the author. This, how negligently
soever the learned Writer may think of it, the Public, 1 am
persuaded, will consider as a very uncommon mark of
truth ; and deserving of another kind of confutation than
what he hath bestowed upon it.
Section 5.
[See Divine Legation, Books i. ii. iii. iv. v. vi.]
HERE I should have ended, had I not been told there
was something still more wanted than a defence of par
ticular passages ; which commonly indeed carry their own
evidence along with them; and that was a general review
of the argument of The Dii ine Legation, so far as it
was yet advanced; explaining the relation which the
several parts bear to each other, and to the whole: lor
that the deep professor who had digested his theology
into awns and systems, and the gentle preacher who never
ventured
Sect. 5.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS, 273
ventured to let a -thought expatiate beyond the limits of a
pulpit essay, would join to tell me, I had promised to
DEMONSTRATE THE DlVINE LEGATION OF MOSES ;
and that now, I had written two large volumes with that
title, all that they could find in them were discourses oh
the Foundation of Morality ; the Origin of civil and
religious Society ; the Alliance between Church and State ;
the Policy of ancient Lawgivers ; the Mysteries of the,
Priests, and the Opinions of the Greek Philosophers*
the Antiquity of Egypt, their Hieroglyphics, their Heroes,
and their Brutal-Worship. That, indeed, at last, I speak
a little of the Jewish Policy, but I soon break away again
as from a subject I would avoid ; and employ the remain
ing part of the volume on the Sacrijice of Isaac, the Book
of Job, and on primary nnj secondary Prophecies. But
what, say they, is all this to the DIVINE LEGATION of
MOSES ?
Die, Posthume ! de tribus CapelUs.
To call the not ion a PARADOX was very well ; but not
to see that I had attempted to prove it, must be owned
to be still better. I was aware of this complaint, be
cause I knew with whom I had to do ; and therefore, in
.the entry of my second volume, was willing that CICERO,
who had been in the like circumstance himself, should
speak for me *.
But (as it proved) to little purpose. The greatness of
his authority, and the docility of his readers, which made
a few words sufficient in his case, were both wanting in
mine. So that I soon found myself under a necessity
of speaking for myself, or rather, for my argument,
Which as it was drawn out to an uncommon length, and
raised upon a great variety of supports, sought out from
every quarter of antiquity, and sometimes from the most
remote and darkest, it was the less to be admired if every
* Video lumc prim am ingressionem in earn non ex Oratcris dis-
putationibus ductam, sed e media Philosophic repetitain, & earn
cjuidem cum antiquana turn subobscuram, aut rfp/le^eTW/owzValiquidj
aut certe admirationis habituram. Nam aut rmrabantur quid hxc
pertineant ad ea qua? q-uajrimus : quibus satisfacict res ipsa ccgnita,
ut non sine causa alte repeUta videatur: aut reprehendent, quod
jnusitatas vias indagemus tritas relinquanttts. Jigo autem me srepe
nova vidcre dicere intelligo cum nervetera die9.j, sed i
lJerisaue. Cicero.*
- XI. T
274 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Parti.
candid reader should not see their full force and various
purpose ; and still less, if the envious and prejudiced
should concur to represent it as an inconneeted heap of
discourses put together to disburthen a common-place.
For the satisfaction therefore of the former, I shall en
deavour to expose, in one clear and simple light, the
whole conduct of these mysterious volumes.
Nor should the latter be neglected. Though tis odds
but we part as dissatisfied with one another, as Bert rand
and his customer. Of whom the story goes, that a grave
well-dressed man, coming to the shop of that ingenious
in venter and reliever of the distresses of all those who are
too dull to know what they want, and too rich to be at
ease with what they have, demanded one of his best
reading glasses ; which when he had examined upon all
sorts of print, he returned back with solemn assurance
that he could not read at all in it. Bertrcuid, when, he
had recovered from the surprise of so strange a pheno
menon, fairly asked him, Sir, could you ever read at all?
To which the other as fairly replied, Had I been so happy,
I had not come hither for yotcr assistance. Should 1 not
therefore, with the same forecast, have asked these people,
" Gentlemen, before I put my argument for you in a
" new light, pray tell me, do you understand an. argument
(< in any light at all?" But would they have answered
with the same ingenuity ? They are silent. They
modestly let their works speak for them. To go oiv
therefore, with our subject.
In reading the law and history of the Jews, with all the
attention I was able, amongst the many very singular
circumstances of that amazing dispensation (from each
of which, as I conceive, the divinity of its original may
be clearly deduced) these two particulars more forcibly
struck my observution, Jirst, the omission of the doctrine
of a future state of rewards and punishments in the
religion of that people ; no instance of the like nature
being to be found throughout the whole history of man
kind : in all the infinite variety of Gentile religions this
doctrine eve r making a principal and most essential par.t,
The other was no less singular, that the founder of this
religion should pretend his dispensation was to be admi-
qistered by an extraordinary providence ; that his law*
should
Sect. 5.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 275
should have all one constant direction pursuant to this
pretence; and that the succeeding writers of the Jewish,
history should all concur in the same representation : no
lawgiver or founder of religion ever promising the like,
distinction ; and no historian ever daring to record so
singular a prerogative.
As unaccountable as the former circumstance appeared,
when considered separately and alone, yet when set
against the latter, and their relations to each other ex
amined, one illustrious reason of the omimm of the
doctrine of a future state was not only immediately
perceived, but, from that very omission, the divinity of
the Jewish religion clearly demonstrated. Which as
unbelievers had been long accustomed to decry from that
very circumstance, I chose that preferably to all other,
as a proof of THE DIVINE LEGATION OF MOSES.
The argument is, in a supreme degree, strong and simple;
and not needing many words to make it understood.
I. Religion, such as teaches a God, the rewarder of
good, and the punisher of evil actions, is absolutely
necessary for the support of civil society : because human
laws alone are not sufficient to restrain men from evil in
any degree necessary for the carrying on the affairs
of public regimen. But the inequality of events here
below shaking the belief of that Providence on w^hich all
religion must be founded (for he that cometh to God must
believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them who
diligently seek hini) there was no other way of supporting
and re-establishing that belief than by the doctrine of
a future state, wherein all these inequalities should be
set even, and every action receive its due recompence of
reward. The doctrine therefore of a future state is
immediately necessary to religion , and, through that,
ultimately to civil society. Yet, here we find a religion
without a future state, professed with great advantage
through many ages by a civil-policied and powerful
people. It appears, from what has been said above,
that, under the common dispensations of Providence, such
a religion would be so far from supporting society, that
it could not even subsist itself. We must conclude,
therefore, that the Jewish people were, as their founder
T 2 ancj
276 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I
and their historians pretended, indeed under the dispen
sation of an extraordinary providence.
II. Again, it appears from the universal practice of
the ancient latvgiyetfs, and the principles of the ancient
sages, that the doctrine of a future state of rewards and
punishments was esteemed thus necessary to religion and
society, under the common dispensations of Providence.
The Egyptian policy and wisdom particularly, from
whence those lawgivers and sages borrowed theirs, cul
tivated this doctrine, for these ends, with an amazing
assiduity. Now Moses, who, as we are assured by the
infallible testimony of the Holy Spirit, was learned in all
the wisdom of the Egyptians, and whose laws themselves,
as the Deist confesses, bespeak him a consummate master
in his art; this Jl loses. I say, when instituting a ntw
religion, and forming an uudrHized people to society,
hath been so far from inculcating the doctrine of a future
state of rewards and punishments, that he hath even
Qmitted to make the least mention of it. Who sees not
then that one reason of the omission must needs be, that
this wise lawgiver understood, his religion and policy
might well subsist without it? But, under the common
dispensations of Providence, his principles of Egyptian
wisdom had taught him, that neither one nor the other
could do so. What therefore are we to conclude, but
that he himself was fully convinced of the truth of what
he taught his countrymen, That they were thence forward
to live Under the extraordinary providence of God.
These two proofs of my MAIN PROPOSITION, from
the thing omitted, and the person omitting (which as
they are distinct and independent of one another, so I
would desire the reader to observe that they are either of
them alone sufficient to establish rny demonstration) may
be reduced to these two SYLLOGISMS :
I. Whatsoever religion and society have no futur0
state for their support, must be supported by an
extraordinary providence.
The Jewish religion and society had no future state
for their support.
Therefore the Jewish religion and society were sup*
ported by an extraordinary providence.
Again,
Sect. 5.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 277
Again, II. It was universally believed by the Ancients,
on their common principles of legislation and
wisdom, that whatsoever religion and society have
no future state for their support must be supported
by an extraordinary providence.
Moses, skilled in all that legislation and wisdom,
instituted the Jewish religion and society without
a future state for its support.
Therefore Moses who taught, believed likewise, that
this religion and society were to be supported by
an extraordinary providence.
This is the grand PARADOX I have been accused of
advancing : in the meanwhile, the free-thinker esteems
it none to contradict the universal voice of antiquity ;
nor the system-maker, to explain away the whole letter of
sacred Scripture. For had not libertines denied the
MAJOR propositions of these two syllogisms } and certain
bigoted believers, the MINOR; my demonstration of
The Divine Legation of liloses had not only been as
strong, but as short too as any of Euclid s : whose
theorems, as Hobbes somewhere truly observes, were but
the passions and prejudices of men equally concerned in,
would soon be made as much matter of dispute as any
moral or theological proposition whatsoever.
It was not long then before I found that the discovery
of this important truth would engage me in a full diluci-
dation of my jour proposition* : neither a short, nor an
asy task. I he tico jirst requiring a severe search into
the civil policy, religion, and philosophy of ancient
times : and the tzvo latter, a minute inquiry concerning
the nature and genius of the Jewish constitution. To
the first part of this inquiry, tliferefore, I assigned the
Jirst volume; and to the otlicr, tiie second*.
L
I. The FIRST volume begins with proving the MAJOR
proposition of thejirst syllogism, that icliat soever religion
ami society have no future state for their support, must
be supported by an extraordinary providence: Where
it is shewn, that civil society, which was instituted as a
remedy against force and injustice, falls short in many
* Books L ii. iii. & iv, v-vi. originally appeared in two vols. 4to.
T 3 instances,
278 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part L
instances, of its effect ; as it cannot, by its own proper
force, provide for the observance of above one third part
of moral duties ; and, of that third, but imperfectly :
and, which is still of greater importance, that it totally
wants the first of those two power*, reward and punish*
ment, which are owned by all to be the necessary hinges
on which government turns, and v ithout which it cannot
be carried on. To supply which wants and imperfections,
some other coactive power was to be added. This power
is shewn to be religion f; which teaching the providence
and justice of the Deity, provides for all the natural
deficiencies of civil society. But then those attributes,
as we shew, can be supported only by the doctrine of a
future state of rewards and punishments ; or by a present
dispensation of things very different from that which we
experience to be here administered.
The point being thus proved, the discourse proceeds
in removing objections. The reader observes, that the
steps and gradations of this great truth rise thus A
future state is necessary, as it supports religion ; religion
is necessary, as it supports morality ; and morality, as it
supports society. Hence I concluded the doctrine of a
future state to be necessary to society. Now there are
various degrees in libertinism. Some, though they own
morality, yet deny religion, to be necessary to society :
others again go still further, and deny even morality to be
necessary. As these equally attempt to break the chain
of my reasoning, they come equally under my exami
nation. And luckily, in the Jirst instance, a great name,
and in the second, a great book, invited me to this
entertainment, i. The famous Mr. Eayle, had attempted
to prove that religion was not necessary to society ; that
morality, as distinguished from religion, might well supply
its place; and that an ATHEIST might have this morality.
His arguments in support of these propositions 1 have
examined at large. And having occasion, when I come
to the last of them, to inquire into the true foundation of
morality, I consider all its pretences ; inquire into all
its advantages ; and shew that obligation, properly so
called, proceeds from will, and will only. This inquiry
was directly to my point, as the result of it proves that
the morality of the Atheist must be without any true
foundation,
Sect 5.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 279
foundation, and consequently weak and easily shaken.
Yet it had a further propriety, as the religion, whose
divine original I was here attempting to demonstrate,
has founded moral obligation in will only ; and a peculiar
expediency, as it is become the humour of the times to
seek for this foundation m any thing rather than in what
religion places it. 2. But the author of the Fable of th&
Bees went a large step further, and endeavoured to
prove that morality was so far from being necessary to
society, that, on the contrary, it was vice, not virtue, which
rendered states flourishing and happy. This pernicious
doctrine, which would cut away our argument by the root,
was inforced with much laboured art and plausible insi
nuation. I undertook therefore to examine and confute
the principles it went upon : which I presume to have
done so effectually, as will secure the reader from the
danger of being any longer misled by it. In this manner
I endeavoured to prove the MAJOR proposition of the
first syllogism : and, with this, the jirst book of 77^
Divine Legation of Moses concludes.
II. The second begins with proving the MAJOR pro
position of the second syllogism, that It teas universally
believed by the Ancients, on their common principles of
legislation ami wisdom, that whatsoever religion and so
ciety have no future state for their support, mist be sup
ported by an extraordinary providence. This proof divides
kself into two parts, the conduct of the lawgivers, and the
opinion of the philosophers. The first part is examined
in the present book, and the second in the following.
In proving the proposition from the conduct of the
lawgivers, I shew, I. Their care to PROPAGATE, First,
Religion in general, i . As it appears from the reason
of things, viz. the state of religion all x>vcr the civilized
world. 2. As it appears from fact, such as their univer
sal pretence to inspiration , which, H is shewn, was made
only to establish the opinion of the superintendency of
the gods over human affairs : and such as their universal
practice in the manner of prefacing their laws ; where
the same superintendency was taught and inculcated.
And here I desire it may be observed, that the proving
their care to propagate religion in general, proves, at
ithe same time, their propagating the doctrine of & jut lire
j T4 at ate;
*So REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part t
$tate\ because there never was any religion in the world
but the Jewish, of which that doctrine did not make an
essential part. I shew, secondly, their care to propagate
the doctrine of a future state of rewards and punishments
in particular. And, as the most effectual method they
employed to this purpose was the institution of the MYS-
TEUIES, I give a large account of their rise and progress;
"\vhich I shew to have been from Egypt into Greece.
The detection of the AFTOPPHTA of these mysteries,
which were the unity of the Godhead, and the error of
the grosser Poll] theism, not only confirms all that is
advanced concerning the rise, progress, and order of the
several species of idolatry, but rectifies and clears up
much embarras and mistake even in the best modern
critics, such as Cudworth, Prideauv, Newton, $c. while
they ventured, contrary to the tenour of Holy Scripture,
to suppose that the One God was commonly known and
worshipped in the Pagan world. For finding many, in
divers countries, speaking of the One God, they concluded
he must needs have a national worship paid- to hirn ;
though the Scriptures, both of the Old and New Testa
ment, represent the Gentiles in a total ignorance of the
true God, and entirely given up to Polytheism. This, as
\vesay, has occasioned much confusion and mistake in our
best writers on this subject, while they would reconcile
their own conclusions to Scripture premises. Now the
discovery of the aVcpp^a of the mysteries, enables us to
explain the perfect consistency between sacred and pro
fane antiquity; which, left to speak for themselves, and
without interpreters, inform us of this plain and consist
ent truth, " That the docrine of the One God was taught
" in all places, as a profound secret to a few in the cele-
" bration of their mysterious rites ; but that a public or
V national worship was paid to him no where but in the
". land of Jit eke a." Where, as Eusebius well expresses
it,Jor the Hebrew PEOPLE alone w.as reserved the
honour of being initiated into the know ledge of the Creator
cf all things. And, of this difference, God himself speaks,
by the Prophet, I have not spoken in secret, in a dark
place of the earth ; I said not unto the seed of Jacob, seek
ye me in vain*. And the holy Apostle informs us of .the
* Isaiah xlv. If).
consequence
Sect. 5.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 281
consequence of this mysterious manner of teaching the
true God, that when, by this means, they came to the
knowledge of him, they glorified him not as God*. To
confirm my account of the mysteries, I subjoin a critical
dissertation on the sixth Book of Virgins jEneis ; and
another, on the Metamorphosis of Apuleius. The first
of which I prove to be one continued description of the
mysteries , and the second, to be written purposely to
recommend their use and efficacy. But by mischance
(and the only one of this kind in the two volumes) the
dissertation on Apuleius is misplaced. The reader will
observe, that, through the course of this whole argument,
on the conduct of the ancient lawgivers, it appears that
all the fundamental principles of their policy were bor
rowed from EGYPT. A truth that will be made greatly
Subservient to the minor of my second syllogism (that
Moses was skilled in all the ancient legislation and wis
dom, and yet instituted the Jewish religion and society
without a future state for its support) as well when I
prove the latter part of the proposition in the second
volume, as the former part, in the third ; where the
character of Moses is vindicated from the objections of
infidelity. From this, and from what has been said above
of moral obligation, the intelligent reader will take
notice, that throughout The Divine Legation, Ihave
all along endeavoured to select for my purpose such kind
of arguments, in support of the particular question in
hand, as may, at the same time, either illustrate the
truth of Revelation in general, or serve as a principle to
proceed upon in the progress of the argument. Of
which we shall give, as occasion serves, several further
instances in the course of this review.
Thus, having shewn the legislator s care to propagate
religion in general, and the doctrine of a futnre state in
particular (in which is seen their sense of the inseparable
connexion between them), I go on, II. To explain the
contrivances they employed to PERPETUATE them : by
which it may appear that, in their opinion, religion was
not a temporary expedient to secure their own power,
but a necessary support of civil government, i. The first
instance of their care to this end was, as we shew, the
* ROTO au s i, 21.
ESTABLISHING
282 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I,
ESTABLISHING everywhere a national religion protected
by the laws of the state. But men ignorant of true
religion could hardly avoid falling into mistakes in the
mode of this establishment; pursuing a right end by
very wrong means : therefore, as the subject of our book
is no idle unconcerning speculation, but such as affects
us in all our highest interests as men and citizens, I
thought a defence of the justice and equity of an ESTA
BLISHED RELIGION would well deserve the reader s best
attention ; and this I have given him, in an explanation
of the true theory of the alliance between church and
state, 2. The second expedient the legislator used for
perpetuating religion, I shew was the allowance of a
GENERAL TOLERATION, which, as it vvould, for the same
reason, be as wrongly conceived as an establishment, I
have attempted to give the true theory of that likewise.
Where, speaking of the cause and first occasion of its
violation, the subject naturally led me to vindicate true
religion from the aspersions of infidelity. And here I shew
that the first persecution for religion was not that which
was committed, but that which was undergone, by the
Christian church. And thus ends the second book of
The Divine Legation.
III. The third begins with the latter part of the proof
of the MAJOR proposition of the second syllogism ; namely,
the opinions of the philosophers. For as the great waste
of time hath destroyed most of the monuments of ancient
legislation, I thought it proper to strengthen my position,
of the sense of their lawgivers, by that of their sages and
philosophers. Where I shewjfirsf, from their own words,
the sense they had in general of the necessity of the
doctrine of a future state of rewards and punishments,
to civil society. But to set the fact in the strongest light,
I next endeavour to prove, that even those of them
(namely, the several sects of Grecian philosophers) who
did not believe .this future state, yet, for the sake of
society, sedulously taught and propagated it. That they
taught it, is confessed. That they did not believe it, was
my business to prove. Which I first do, by the three
following general reasons : i . That they all thought it
allowable to say one thing and think another. 2. That,
they perpetually practised what they thus professed to
be
Sect 5.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 83
be lawful. And, 3. That they practised it with regard
to the very doctrine in question. To explain and verify
the two first of these propositions, I had occasion to
inquire into the rise, progress, perfection, decline, and
genius of the ancient Greek philosophy under all its
several divisions. In which, as its rise and genius are
shewn to have been from Egypt, we lay in a still further
support for the minor proposition of the second syllogism.
The discourse then proceeds to a particular inquiry
into the sentiments of each sect of philosophy on this
point. Where it is shewn, from the character and genius
of each school, ,and from the writings of each man,
that none of them did indeed believe the doctrine of a
future state of rewards and punishments. But, from
almost every argument brought for this purpose, it,
at the same time, appears of how high importance they
all thought it to society.
Further, to support this fact, I prove next, that these
philosophers not only did not, but could not possibly,
believe the doctrine of a future state of rewards and
punishments, because it contradicted two metaphysical
principles universally held and believed by them concern
ing the nature of GOD and of the SOUL ; which were,
that God could not be angry y nor hurt any om ; and that
the soul was part of God, and resolved again into him.
In explaining, and verifying the reception of this latter
principle, I take occasion to speak of its original ; which
I shew was Grecian, and not Egyptian, as appears from
the different genius and character of the two philosophies;
though the spurious books going under the name of
Hermes, but indeed written by late Greek Platonists,
would persuade us to believe the contrary. The use of
this inquiry likewise (concerning Me origin of this prin
ciple) will be seen when we come to clear up the character
of Moses as aforesaid. But with regard to the general
question (concerning the belief of the philosopher*) be
sides the direct and principal use of it for the support of
the MAJOR proposition of the second syllogism, it has
(as I said before I had contrived my arguments should
have) two further uses ; the one to scree as a principle hi
the progress of my argument ; the other to illustrate the
tntfh of Revelation in general. For, i . It will serve for
ufficient
284 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
a sufficient answer to that objection of the Deists, to be
considered in the last volume, that Moses did not pro
pagate the doctrine of a future state of rewards and
punishments, because he did not believe it : it being shewn,
fr&mjact, that the not believing a doctrine, so useful to
society, w^as esteemed no reason why the legislator should
not propagate it. 2. It is a very strong proof of the
necessity of the Gospel of Jesus, that the sages of
Greece) with whom all the wisdom of the world was
supposed to be deposited, had philosophised themselves
out of one of the most evident and useful truths with
which mankind is concerned. Nor need we seek any
other justification of the severity with which the holy
Apostles always speak of the philosophers or philosophy
of Greece, than this, the shewing it was directed against
these pernicious principles; and not, as both Deists and
Fanatics have concurred to represent it, a condemnation
of human learning in general.
But as now it might be objected, that, by this repre
sentation, we lose on the one hand what we gain on the
other; and that while we shew the necessity of the
Gospel, we run a risk of discrediting its reasonableness:
for that nothing can seem to bear harder upon this, than
that the best and wisest persons of antiquity did not
believe a future state of rewards and punishments : as
this, I say, might be objected, we have given a full answer
to it ; and, to support our answer, shewn, that the two
extremes of this representation, which divines have been
accustomed to go into by contrary ways, are attended
with great and real mischief to Revelation. While the
only view of antiquity, which yields solid advantage to the
Christian cause, is such a one as this here given ; such a
one as shews natural reason to be clear enough to perceive
truth, and the necessity of its deductions when proposed;
but not generally strong enough to discover it, and draw
right deductions from it. And we presume the objectors
may allow this to be the true, as we have Cicero himself
for ouf warrant, who, with an ingenuity becoming his
profound knowledge of human nature, thus decisively
expresses himself: " Nam neque tarn est acris acies in
" naturis hominum et ingeniis, ut res tantas quisquam,
* nisi monstrataSj possit videre ; neque tanta tamen in
" rebus-
Sect. 5-1 OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 285
" rebus obscuritas, ut eas non peritus acri vir ingenio
" cernat, si modo adspexerit*," In explaining this mat
ter, it is occasionally shewn that of the ancient and
modern systems of deist ical morality, the confessedly
superior perfection in the latter is entirely owing to the
unacknowledged aid of Revelation. Thus the reader sees
in what manner we have endeavoured to prove the
MAJOR propositions of the two syllogisms, that whatso
ever religion and .society have no future state for their
support, must be supported by an extraordinary provi
dence: and that this was universally believed by the
Ancients, on their common principles of legislation and,
li isdom. For, having shewn that religion and society were
unable, and believed to be unable, to support themselves
under an ordinary providence without a future state ; if
they were supported without that doctrine, it could be,
and could be believed to be, only by an extraordinary
providence.
But now, as this proof is conducted through a long
detail of circumstances, shewing the absolute necessity of
religion in general to civil society, and the sense which all
the wise and learned of antiquity had of that necessity ;
lest this should be abused to countenance the idle and
impious conceit, that religion teas the Invention of poli
ticians, I concluded the third book and the volume toge
ther, with proving, that the notion is both impertinent
and false. Impertinent, for that, were this account of
religion right, it would not follow that religion itself was
visionary; but, on the contrary, that it was most real,
and supported on the eternal relations of things : false,
for that religion, in fact, existed before the civil magi
strate was in being. But my end in this was not barely
to remove an objection against the truths here delivered ;
but to prepare an opening for those which were \Q follow.
For if religion were so useful to society, and yet not the in
vention of the magistrate, we must seek its origin in another
quarter : either from Nature, or Revelation^ or both.
Such is the subject of the first volume of The Divine
Legation : which, as I thought proper to publish sepa
rately, I contrived should not only contain part of that
proof, but likewise be a complete treatise of itself
* De Orat, l.iii.c. xxxi.
establishing
286 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part L
establishing one of the most important truths with
\vhich we have to do, viz. The necessity of religion for
the support of civil government. And if, in this view,
I have been more than ordinary minute, while treating
some capital articles in support of that question, I pre
sume I shall not want the reader s pardon.
II.
We come now to the SECOND volume of The Divine
Legation; which is employed in proving the MINOR
propositions of the two syllogisms ; the first, That the
Jewish religion and society had no future state for their
support ; the other, That Moses, skilled in all the ancient
legislation and wisdom, instituted the Jewish religion and
society without a future state for its support. But in
proving the MINOR, a method something different from
that observed in proving the MAJOR propositions was to
be followed. The MAJOR, in the first volume, were
proved successively, and in their order ; but in this, the
MINOR propositions are inforced all the way together:
and this, from the reason of the thing ; the facts brought
to prove the doctrine omitted, at the same time, acci
dent ally shew the omission designed ; and the facts, brought
to prove it designed, necessarily shew it omitted. To pro
ceed therefore with the subject of the second volume.
IV. 1 just before observed, that the conclusion of the
first volume, which detected the absurdity and falsity
of the atheistic principle, that religion was a creature of
the state, opened the way to a fair inquiry whether its
original were not as well from Revelation as from natural
reason.
In the introduction therefore to this volume, I took
the advantage which that open afforded me, of shewing
that the universal pretence to revelation proves some
revelation must be true : that this true Revelation must
have some characteristic marks to distinguish it from the
false : and that these marks are to be found in the insti
tution of Moses. But thus far only by way of introduction,
and to lead the reader more easily into the main road of
our inquiry; by shewing him that we pursued no desperate
adventure while we endeavoured to deduce the divinity,
of Moses s law from the circumstances of the law itself.
I proceeded
Sect. 5.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 287
I proceeded then to the proof of the MINOR propo
sitions, That the Jewish religion and society had no future
state for their support; and that their lawgiver pur
posely omitted it. To evince these truths, with sufficient
evidence, the nature of that institution was to be w^ell
understood. But to form a right idea of that, it was
expedient we should know the mannen and genius of the
Hebrew people, and the character and abilities of their
lawgiver. Now these having been entirely fashioned on
Egyptian models, it was further expedient we should
know the state of Egyptian superstition and learning in
those early ages.
In order to this, therefore, 1 first advanced this pro
position, That the Egyptian learning celebrated in Scrip
ture, and the Egyptian superstition there condemned,
were the very karning and superstition represented by the,
Greek writers, as the honour and opprobrium of that
kingdom. Where, I first state the question, and shew
the equal extravagancies of both parties in unreasonably
advancing or depressing the high antiquity of Egypt.
I then support my proposition, first by fact, the testi
mony of holy Scripture, and of the ancient Greek
writers set together, and supporting one another.
Secondly by reason, in an argument deduced from the
nature, origin, and various use, of their so famed HIERO
GLYPHICS. Where it is shewn, i. That these were
employed as the sole vehicle of Egyptian learning even
after the invention of letters. For which no good rea
son can be assigned but this, that they were employed to
the same purpose, before. Now letters were in use in
the time of Moses. 2. Again, it is further shewn that
the ON i ROC HIT i cs borrowed their art of deciphering
from hieroglyphic symbols. But hieroglyphic .symbols
were the mysterious vehicle of the Egyptian learning
and theology. Now onirocritic, or the art of interpreting
dreams, was practised in the time of Joseph. 3. And
again, that hieroglyphic symbols were the true original of
ANIMAL WORSHIP in Egypt. Now animafcworship was
established before the times of Moses. From all this it
appears that Egypt was of that high antiquity, which
Scripture and the best G reek writers represent it. By
which
288 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part L
which we come to understand what were the specific
manners and superstitions of Egypt in tiie time of Moses;
they being, as now appears, identically the same with
what the Greek writers have delivered to us. In the
course of this proof from reason, in opening at large the
nature, origin, and various kinds of Egyptian hierogly
phics, I interweave (as the necessary explanation of rny
subject required) a detailed history of the various modes
of ancient information by speech and action. As (on the
same account) in the original of brute-worship, I give the
history of the various modes of ancient idolatry in the
order they arose out of one another. Now these I have
not only made to serve in support of the question I am
here upon; but likewise in support of a Jut lire, and a
past. For, in this history of the various modes of ancient
information was laid, as the reader will find, the founda
tion of my discourse on the Nature of ancient Prophecies,
in the sixth book ; the connexion of which discourse with
my main subject, and its high importance to religion in
general, will be explained when we come to that place :
and, in the history of the various modes of ancient idolatry,
he may see my reasoning in the latter end of the third
book, against the Atheistic origin of religion, supported
and confirmed. So studious have we been to observe
what a great master of reason lays down as the rule and
test of good disposition, that every former part may
give strength unto all tl tat follow, and every latter bring
light unto ail before.
But the high antiquity of Egypt, though proved from
antiquity itself, seemed not enough secured while the
authority of one great modern remained entire and un
answered. In the next place, therefore, I ventured to
examine Sir /. Newton. s Chronology of the Egyptian
Empire, as it is founded in the supposed identity of Osiris
and Sesostris; which I shew not only contradicts all
profane, but, what is more, all sacred antiquity ; and, still
more, the very nature of things. In the course of this
confutation, the causes of that endless confusion in the
ancient Greek history and mythology are inquired into
and explained ; which serves, at the same time, to confirm
and illustrate all that hath been said, occasionally iu
2 the
Sect. 5;] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 289
the first volume, concerning the origin and progress of
idolatry, the genius of Pagari religion, their modes of
worship, and their theological opinions.
Thus far concerning the high antiquity of Egypt.
Which, besides the immediate purpose, of leading us into
a. true idea of the Jewish institution, hath these further
uses. We have seen, in the foregoing volume, that
Egypt, as it was most famed for the arts of legislation,
so it most of all inculcated the doctrine of a future state
of rewards and punishments. Now if Egypt were of the
high antiquity I contend for, the doctrine was inculcated
in the time of the Hebrew captivity : the Israelites
therefore who lived so long in Egypt, and had so tho
roughly imbibed the religious notions of the place, must
heeds have been much prejudiced in favour of so reason
able and flattering a doctrine : and, consequently, their
Lawgiver, who had been bred up in all the learning of
Egypt, if he had acted only by human direction, must;
needs, in imitation of his masters, have taken advantage
of this favourable prejudice to make the doctrine of a
future state the grand sanction of his religion and law*
Again, the proof of the high antiquity of Egypt was a
necessary vindication of Sacred Scripture; which all
along declares for that antiquity. But which the Deist
having endeavoured to take advantage of agaiiist Moses s
claim to inspiration, believers were growh not unwilling
to explain away. Arid while this CHRONOLOGY offered
itself to support the Bible divinity^ they seemed little
attentive to the liberties it took with the Bible history i
To proceed : in order to bring on this truth of the
high antiquity of Egypt nearer to my purpose, I next-
advanced this second proposition. That the Jewish people
were extremely fond of Egyptian manners, and did fre
quently fall Into Egyptian superstitions : imd that many
of t lie laws given to them by tlie ministry of Moses were
instituted partly In compliance to their prejudices^ and
partly in opposition to ihtfse superstitions. Through the
proof of fae first part of the proposition was proposed
to be shewn the high probability of an institution
formed with reference to Egyptian manners; anxi through
the proof of the second, a demonstration that it was, irr
factj so formed. In the progress of tbis argument is
VOL, XL U v
5QO REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part t
given au historical account of the arriazing perversity of
.Ft x ifih people, from the time of Closes $ first mission,
to their settlement in the land ofCffttfiai?. Which serves
not only to evince the fact we are here updn, their fond-
heftf for Egyptian w//; v^;v.-; but to prove (what will Stand
us in stead hereafter! tliaf a people so obstinate and
headstrong needed, in the institution of their civil govern
ment and religion, all possible curbs to disorder ; of which,
for this end, tire doctrine of & future state was ever held
the chief in ancient policy.
But now, as it might be objected, that while I am
endeavouring to get, this way, into the interior of the
Jewish constitution, I open a door to the ravages of
infidelity ; it was thought necessary, in order to prevent
their taking ad vantage of the great truth contained under
the last proposition, to guard it by the two following,
First, That .Moses s Egyptian learning, and the lazry
instituted in compliance to the people* prejudices, and in
opposition to Egyptian .superstitious, are no reasonable
objection to the divinity of his mission. Where, in
ans Tverinir an objection to the proof of the jirst part of
this proposition, I had occasion to explain the nature and
on; *.? wbools of the Prdphets: which, the reader
will find of this further use, to give strength and sup
port to what is sakl, in the xirth bo6k, of the Ntiture of
Prophecy; and particularly to what is remarked of
G-rotims mistakes in his manner of interpreting them.
And, after having established the proof of the second
part, from the nature of things, I examine ^all the argu
ments which have been urged to the contrary, by the
learned .// -rman ff r itsii/.s, in his JBgijptiticty as that bosk
had beeo publicly recommended, for a distinct and solid
cmfutaiion of Sp^nCeV, De Legibus Hebr&oruhi ri-
tualibm.
But I go further in the sectirtd proportion ; and prove,
that // ^fances of Moses s Egyptian learn-
. MM/ the , frtis Instituted in compliance to the people s
prijiuli.(:e.\. and in opposition to Egyptian wtersttfittiibi
pm a ^/r-^vif confirmation of the awinitjj of kis mhsion ;
Tor, tl.i., ^n tiie arts of Egypt -lation,
eoulu never, on his own head, have tfiought 6f reducing
au unruly people to government on "maxims of religion
13
Sect. 5.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 291
and policy fundamentally opposite to all the principles of
Egyptian wisdom. And yet Moses did this, in enjoining
the worship of the true God only; and, in omitting the
doctrine of & future- state. And again, that one who
falsely pretended to inspiration, and to receive the whole
* frame of a national constitution from God himself, would
never have risked his pretences by a ritual law, which
the people could see was politically instituted, partly in
compliance to their prejudices, and partly in opposition
to Egyptian superstitions. And with this tlie fourth
book concludes.
V. What hath been hitherto said was to let us, in gene
ral only, into the genius of the Jewish policy ; in order
to our judging more exactly of the peculiar nature of
its government; that from thence, we might be enabled to
determine, with full certainty, on the matters in question,
as they are contained in the two MINOR propositions.
The Jlftk book, therefore, comes still nearer to the
point, and considers this peculiar nature, of the Jeicisk
government. Which is shewn to have been a THEO
CRACY, properly so called, where God himself became
the supreme civil magistrate. This form of government
is shewn to have been necessary for the times. In prov
ing which, the law of punishing for opinions, under a
theocracy, is occasionally explained. And as the Deists
have been accustomed to object this punishment against
the divine original of the Law, it is justified at large, on
the principles of natural equity : which serves, at the
same time, both to confirm the reality of a theocracy ,
and also to give new strength and support to what
had been said on the subject vi Toleration, in the Jirst
volume.
2. This Theocracy, which was necessarily was (as I
then shew from the notions and opinions of those times
concerning Tuielary Deities) pi the most easy introduction
likewise. But here, speaking of the method of Provi
dence in employing the prejudices of men to the great
ends of its .dispensations, I observe, that whenever
Divine Wisdom thought lit so to do, it was always
accustomed to insert some characteristic note of differ
ence, to mark the institution, it established, for its own :
which leading nip to enumerate some of those nates,
u 2 I insisted
REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
I insisted chiefly upon this, " that the Mosaic religion
" was built upon a former, namely, the Patriarchal:
" whereas the various religions of the Pagan world were
" all unrelated to, and independent of one another. " As
this was a circumstance necessarily to be well understood
for a perfect comprehension of the/rav .vA Establishment
(the subject in hand), I took the advantage which the
celebrated author of the Grounds and Reasons of the
Christian Religion had afforded me, (who, to discredit
Revelation, has thought lit to affirm the direct contrary) of
supporting it against him in an examination of his facts
and reasonings on this head.
3. I proceed, in the next place, to shew, that those
prejudices which made the introduction of a theocracy
so eaxy, occasioned as easy a defection from the laws of
it. In which I had occasion to explain the nature of the
worship of tutelary gods, and of that idolatry wherewith
the Jewish people were so obstinately besotted. Both
which discourses serve these further purposes, the former,
to support and explain what had been said, in the first
volume, concerning the genius of Pagan intercommunity
of worship: and the latter (besides a particular use to
be made of it in the third volume) to obviate a common
objection of unbelievers; who, from this circumstance of
the continual r! election of the Jew s into idolatry, would
infer, that i od s dispensation to them could never have
been so illustrious as their history represents it: these
men supposing that this idolatry consisted in renouncing
the law of Moses , and renouncing it as dissatisfied of its
truth : both which suppositions are here shewn to be
felsc.
Having explained the nature of the theocracy, and the
attendant circumstance* of its erection ; we then inquire
concerning its duration. A theocracy, therefore, in
strict truth and propriety, we shew, continued throughout
the whole, period of the Jewish state, even to the coining
of Christ. The use to be made hereafter, of this truth,
is to inforce the connexion between the two religions ; a
circumstance, though much neglected, incumbent on every
rational defender of Revelation to support.
We come next to the peculiar consequences attending
the administration of a theocracy: which bring us yet
. nearer
Sect. 5.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 293
nearer to our point. Here, it is shewn that one necessary
consequence, was an EXTUAORDIXAKY PROVIDENCE.
And agreeably to this, (as deduced Iroui the nature of
things} that holy Scripture does in fact exhibit to us this
very representation of God s government : and further,
that there are many favourable circumstances, in the
character of the Jarish people, to induce a candid ex
aminer to conclude this representation true. Though
here the reader should observe, that my argument does
not require me to prove more, in this place, than that au
extraordinary providence is represented in Scripture, to
be administered : The proof of its real administration it
is the purpose of this w.ork to give through the great
MEDIUM of my Theses, the Omission of the Doctrine of
a future State of Rewards and Punishments. If there
fore I clearly shew, from the whole Jewish history, that
the matter is thus represented, the inference from my
medium, which proves the representation true, answers
all objections, both as to our inadequate conception of
the manner how such a providence could be administered ;
and as to certain passages in holy Scripture that seem to
clash with this its general representation. And yet both
these objections (to leave no shadow of doubt unsatisfied)
are considered likewise : but as important as this fact, of
an extraordinary providence represented, is, even to our
present purpose, it has a still further use when employed
amongst those distinguishing w#rfo of the truth of Alosess
" . ^ *. ;
divine mission in general. For, from hence, we may
observe, the unnecessary trouble and hazard to which he
exposed himself, had that mission been only pretended.
Had he, like the rest of the ancient lawgivers, done no more
than barely affected inspiration, he had then no occasion
to propagate the belief of a constant equal providence ; a
dispensation, if only feigned, so easy to be confuted.
J3ut, by deviating from their general practice, and per
suading the people, that the inspiring tutelary god would
become their king, he laid himself under a necessity of
teaching an extraordinary providence ; and perpetually
insisting on it as the great sanction of his laws ; a dead
weight, if he were an impostor, that nothing but down
right folly could have brought him to undergo.
^ w 3 TQ
294 REMARKS ON SEVERAL > [Part I,
To proceed : after having laid this strong and necessary
foundation, we come at length -DIRECTLY to our point.
If the Jewish government were- a theocracy, it was
administered by an extraordinary providence; the con
sequence of which is, that temporal reivards ami punish
ments (the effects of this providence) and not future,
were the SANCTION of their law and religion. Thus far
therefore hath the very nature of the Jewish government
brought us. And this methinks is bringing us fairly up
to the proof of our two MINOR propositions. So neces
sary, as the reader now sees, was this long discourse of
the nature of the Jewish government. But, to prevent
all cavil, I go further; and shew, that the doctrine of a
jut are state of rewards and punishments, which could
not, from the nature of things, be the sanction of the Law,
vnr,? not, in fact, taught in it at all; but purposely omit
ted by their great Prophet. This is proved from- several
circu ID stances in the books of Genesis and the Laic.
Where, to shew, that Moses, who, it is seen, stttdtousty
omitted it, was well apprised of its importance, I prove
that the punishment of children for the crimes of their
parents was brought into this institution purposely to
supply some advantages to government, which the doc
trine of a future state affords. This, at the same time
that it further supports the opinion of no future staie in.
the Mosaic dispensation, gives me a fair occasion of vin
dicating the justice and equity of the laic, of punishing
children for the crimes of their parents] and proving the
perfect agreement between Closes and the Prophets con
cerning it : which had been, in all ages, the stumbling-
block of infidelity.
But we go yet further, and shew, that, as Moses forbore
to teach the doctrine of a future state of rewards and
punish rnents, so neither had the ancient Jezcf, that is to
say. the body of the people, any knowledge of it. The
proof is striking, and scarce to be resisted by any party
or profession but the system-maker s. The Bible contains
a very circumstantial history of this people from the time
of Moses to the great Captivity. Not only of public
occurrences, but the private adventures of persons of
both sexes, and of all ages and stations, of all characters
and
Sect. 5.] OCCASIONAL KEFLECTIONS. 293
and complexions ; in the lives of virgins, matrons, kings,
soldiers, scholars, priests, merchants, husbandmen. They
are given too in every circa instance of life, victorious,
captive, sick, and in health; in full security and amidst
impending dangers; plunged in civil business, pr retired
and sequestered in the service of religion. Together vntli
their story , we have their compositions likewise. Here
they sing their triumphs; there their pajinqdia: here
they offer up their hymns of praise and petitions to tlxe
Deity ; here they urge their moral precepts to their
countrymen ; and here again they treasure up their pro
phecies and predictions for posterity : yet in none of these
different circumstances oi life, in none oi ilie^e various
casts of composition, do we ever find them acting on the
motives, or influenced by the prospect of a future state ;
or indeed expressing the least hopes or fairs, or even
common curiosity concerning it : but every thing they do
or say respects the present lite only ; the good and ill of
which are the sole objects of all their pursuits and aver-
ions *. And licre I will appeal to my adversaries them
selves. Let them speak, and tell me, if they were noyv
first shewn some history of an old Greek republic,
delivered in the form and manner of the Jewish, and no
more notice in it of a future state, whether .tliey could
possibly believe that that doctrine was national, or gene*
rally known in it? If they have the least ingenuity, they
will answer, they could not. On what then do they
support their belief here, but on religious prejudices"?
Prejudices ,of no higher an original neither than som ( e
Dutch or German system : for, as to the Bible, one half
of it is silent concerning life and immortality; and the
other half declares the doctrines were brought to light
* It is very remarkable, that nothing more strongly evinces the
desperate folly of those who imagine the Bible has been adulterated
by the Jews (unless it be their o\vn scheme of reforming it, by the
assistance of a Jeic, who has accommodated it to the taste of
Paganism} than this very circumstance of the profound silence
throughout, concerning a future xtnte. For had the Rabbi/is .ever
.tempered with it on any head, it had certainly been on this, which
they hold to be the very Fundamental of Fundamentals.^, And
which yet, after all their sweat and labour, to discover in the Sible,
they could never get to ; but are forced at last to take it npoij,
trust or tradition, us the Indiana do \l\e\\~ fundamental Tortoise.
t MaiiT)onides.
V 4 through
296 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
through the Gospel; which too is a circumstance in
support of our conclusion frorn the Jewish history, that
would be wanting in the case given of a Grecian.
The strength of this argument is still further supported
by a view of the general history of mankind: and par
ticularly of those nations most resembling the Jewish by
their genius and circumstances : in which we find the
doctrine of a future state was always pushing on its
influence. It was their constant viaticum through life
it stimulated them to war, and spirited their songs of
triumph; it made them insensible of pain, immoveable
in danger, and superior to the hour of death. But this is
not all : \ve observe that even in the Jewish annals, when
this doctrine was become national, it made as considerable
a figure in their history, as in that of any other people.
In the last place we shew, that it is not on the negative
silence only of the sacred writers, or of the speakers they
introduce, that we support our conclusion ; but from their
-positive declarations, by which they plainly discover, that
there was no popular expectation of a future state or
resurrection. Such as these; That he that goeth down
to the grave shall come up no mere*. That in death
there is no remembrance of God. and in the grave no one
.shall give him thanks^.-- That the dead k-norr not ami
thing, neither have any more a reward^ That then
who go down to the pit cannot hope for God s truth .
That those who are dead, are not ||. Where we find it to.
be the same popular language throughout, and in every
circumstance of life; as well in the cool philosophy of the
author of JStclesitist&L as amidst the distresses of the
Psalmist, the Lamentations of the Prophet, and the
exultations of good Hezekiah. But is it possible this
could be the language of a people instructed in the
doctrine of life and immortality ? Or do we find owe
word of it, on any occasion whatsoever, in the writers of
the New Testament, but where it is brought in to be con
futed and condemned? The people in Jeremiah say,
that Y/we who arc dead, are not: Jesus, in the Gospel,
that Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, are amongst the living.
Good men amongst the., .lews said, that those who go.
* 2 S-mi. xiv. M. f 1 salm vi . ;",. I Ecclcs.ix. .5.
J 1-sa. xxxviii. 18, 10. (j Jcr. v; 7.
. down
Sect. 5-] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 297
down to the grave come up no more, know not any thing,
have no reward, and therefore prayed for long life here,
to praise the God of their salvation : St. Paul, on the
contrary, devoutly wished for his dissolution, in order to
receive elsewhere the reward of his faith and spiritual
warfare. Here, therefore, let me admonish certain
dealers in systems, for once to suspend their trade, and
attend a moment to the arguments they write against
For it will not be thought enough that they prove, on the
principles of their systems, that the doctrine of a future
state of rewards and punishments OUGHT to be in the
religion of Moses, and therefore is there. The public
will now expect, that they directly apply themselves to
the refutation of these arguments ; which, being founded
on no system, proceed in a different manner ; and, from
the proof of what is not there, conclude, what ought not
to be there. But it is much easier to tell us, what should
be in a book, than to account for what is in it.
From the Old Testament, we proceed to the New ; by
which it appears, from the inspired writers of this likewise,
that the doctrine of a future state of rewards and punish
ments did NOT make part of the Mosaic dispensation.
Their evidence we have divided into two parts, the Jirst
proving that temporal rewards and punishments were the
sanction of the Jewish dispensation ; the second, that it
had no other. And thus, with the directest and most
unexceptionable proof of the two MINOR propositions,
thej/flk book concludes.
VI. But to remove, as far as I was able, all grounds
of prejudice to this momentous truth, I employed the
sixth and last book of this volume in examining those
texts of the Old and New Testament, which had been
commonly urged to prove that the doctrine of a future
state of rewards and punishments did rnakfc part of the
Mosaic dispensation,
Amongst those of the Old Testament, the famous
passage in the xixth chapter of the book of Job holding
the principal place, I judged it of importance, for the
reasons there assigned, to examine this matter to the
bottom ; which necessarily engaged me in an inquiry into
the nature and genius of that book ; when written, and to
what purpose ; whereby not only a fair account is given of
REMARKS ON SEVERAL [IV* J.
the sense of that passage, consistent with my proposition;
trot a strong support is provided tor what will be iurt.hiT
said in the third and last vohnne, concerning the >Yv/:W
decay of the extraordinary provide nee, from the tuiie of
8(t{(l to the return from the great Captivity, and rtbettlt-
rcent in the lard of Ju^
liut this dissc; tatlon has still a further, and very
tant use, regarding tiei cUttwn ingcw- for >hev
therein, how the principles of the (Josj-ti doctrine .<//;>
$f degree^ iully obviates the calumnies oif Tiudai
CW/V;/-v; who pretend that the priests and leaders ojf
ffitfuif&f refined their old doctrines concerning the 1-)$ .
and invented new ones, just as jliey advanced in knpw-
iedge .or the people in curiosity ; eras botlnvere better ia-
structcd in the country to v/iiich they were led cautive.
In examining the texts of the jYca; Testament, ihr.
iamous eleventh chapter of the epistle to the Hcln
was not forgotten * tlic sense of u hich is cleared tip froiu
the strongest and most inveterate mistakes of syste-
DHrlioall divines. In this place is occasionally explained
and iiiustrated a matter of the highest moment for
understanding St. Pout s epistles, natuely, the mtun
ihc ^ Ipoxiolic recMttiMg against the errors of lite Jewish
converts ; and this likewise contributes stiil iiuther to
support the truth of our two mix OK propositions.
As in all this I taught nothing contrary to the doctrine
Cff our excellent Church, hry professiuu. in couiujt/u
decency, not to say justice both to myself and others,
required I should vindicate the reality of my coriioriiiity.
Having therefore declared it as my unfeigned opinion
that, " ttough a future state of rewards and punishment>
fi made no part of the Mosaic dispensation, yet that the
^ Law had a spiritual meaning, to be understood when
" the fulness of time should come, and hence received
(i the nature, and afforded the efficacy of prophecy : and
"that in. the interim, the mystery of the Gospel was,
4: occasionally revealed by God to his chosen servants, the
"leaders and fathers of the Jewish nation; and the
".daicrimg of it gradually opened by the prophets to the.
u people: Having, 1 say, declared this to be my un
feigned opinion, I shew, from the words of the Srcenlk
Article oj Religion, that it is the opinion of our excellent
Church.
Sect. 5.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 299
Church likewise. And that I may not be suspected of
tergiversation, when I subscribe to this article that They
are not- to be- heard which frig)? 9 that the old Fathers did
look only for transitory promises, I attempt to illustrate
the words of Jems, where he says that Abraham rejoiced
to see Christ s day, and sate it. and was glad> by the
noblest instance that ever was given of the harmony
between the Old and Rew Testament, on the princi
ples before laid down in the discourse on the hieroglyphics.;
and shew that the command to Abraham to offer Isaac
was merely an information /given at Abraham s earnest
request) in a representative action, instead of words, of
the redemption of mankind by the great sacrifice of
Christ. From whence we gain two other advantages,
besides that more immediate, of justifying the doctrine
of our national Church. Thejirst of which is the sup
porting a real and essential connexion between Judaism
and Christianity. The other is, disposing the Deists to
think more favourably of their Bible : for our interpre
tation overthrows -all objections to this part oi Abrahams
history. The- matter therefore being of this high impor
tance, it was proper to fix it on such principles as would
leave no room for doubt or objection. And this could be
done only by explaining the nature of those various modes
of information in use amongst the Ancients ; for whicli
explanation likewise a proper foundation had been laid
in thfe discourse on the hieroglyphics. But this is not all ;
we get a yet further and much more considerable benefit
by it, and that is the clearing up and vindicating the
logical truth and propriety of types in action, and secoii-
clary senses in speech : whereon the divinity of the ancient
prophecies concerning Christ are to be supported ; and
which, at this time, most needed a support. For though
the greater part of these prophecies relate to Jesus only
in a secondary sense, yet had some men of name and in
the interests of religion, through "ignorance of the true
original and nature of secondary senses, rashly concurred
with modern Judaism and hr/ia cHty, to give up all such
as illogical and enthusiastic, to the imminent hazard of
overturning the very foundation of our faith. In the
course of this inquiry, I had an opportunity of examining
and confuting one of the most able and plausible books
ever
300 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part L
ever written against Revelation, the Grounds and Reasons
f)f the Christian Religion, which goes entirely upon the
illogical fanaticism of a secondary sense of prophecies.
The intelligent reader will, I presume, allow these
reasons sufficient to justify the length of this dissertation;
but there were two other more immediately relative to my
question, that engaged me in the inquiry. The om was
to shew, that those, who contend for the Christian doc
trine of a future states being revealed to the early J< ir.s,
destroy all reason of a secondary sense erf prophecies ;
(a matter, as we have shewn, of the utmost importance
tQ Revelation :) for how can it be certainly known, from
the prophecies themselves, that they contain double scmex,
but from hence, that the old Law was preparatory to, and
the rudiments of, the Nczv ? How shall this relation be
certainly known, but from hence, that no future state <>/
rewards and punishments is to be found in the Mosaic
dispensation? So close a dependence have all these
momentous principles on one another. The other more
immediate reason for this dissertation, on types ami
secondary senses, was this : AS I had shewn that a future
state of rewards and punishments was revealed under no
part of the Jewish economy any otherwise tha.ii by tliosc
modes of information, it was necessary, in order to shew
the real connexion between Judaism and Christianity
(the truth of the latter religion depending on that real con
nexion) to prove those modes logical and rational. Tor as
on the one hand, had the doctrine of life and immortality
been revealed under the Mosaic economy, Judaism h^d
been more than a rudiment and preparation of Christi
anity ; so had no covert intimations at all been given pi?
the doctrine, it had been less : That is, the dependency
and connexion between the two religions had not been
sufficiently marked out and ascertained. With this neces
sary, dissertation, therefore, the slvth and last book of the
second volume concludes.
Thus the reader sees at length, how regularly and
intetitiy these two volumes have been carried on : tjie
Jirst in proving the MAJOR, and the second > the MINQR
propositions of the two syllogisms. In which, though
the Author (whose passion is not so much a fondness fpr
his own argument as for the honour and support of
religion
Sect. >] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 301
religion itself) has neglected tio fair occasion of inforcbg
every circumstance, that might serve to illustrate the
truth of Revelation in general; yet he never loses sight of
his end; but, as the rule for conducting tlie most regular
works prescribes,
Semper ad event urn fcstinat.
This volume too I thought fit to publish alone, as I did
the jiwt ; though not merely for the same reason, its
being a perfect and entire wKote of itself, explaining the
nature and genius of the Jewish constitution} but for a
much better that it fairly finished the argument. For
my logic teaches me, that, when the MAJOR and the
MINOR are once proved, the CONCLUSION follows of
course. And this is, that THE JEWISH RELIGION AND
SOCIETY WEUE SUPPORTED BY AN EXTRAORDINARY
PROVIDENCE: For be this never so furious a PARADOX,
it may be rendered as tame and harmless as any other
truth by the common advantages of argument; unless a
raiser of paradoxes, like a raiser of rebellion, is to be ipso
facto, outfaced; and the out denied all benefit of the,
logic, as the other is, of the law, of his country.
III.
VII. It may be asked then, what I mean by a third
volume, if the argument be ended in the second? To
this I answer, That it is one thing to satisfy truth ; and an
other, her pretended followers. He who engages for Reve
lation, has many prrj udiccs to encounter ; but he who engages
for it, under reason only, has many more. I cannot then
make too sure of my reader. And, luckily, the plan of
my work obliging me to continue the history of the reli
gious doctrines of the Jews, from the time of the first
Prophets, to that of the Maccabees, when the doctrine of
a future state of rewards and punishments first became
national ; this history will afford abundant proofs for the
further illustration of the MAJOR propositions of the t\\o
syllogisms. And this will make the subject of the
seventh book of The Divine Legation, or lliejirst part of
the third volume.
VIII. Having in this manner gone through my general
argument^ what remains is an examination of thVprinci-
pal objections that may be urged against it: and tl*cse
being
302 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Parti
being founded in the supposed views and objects of the
Jewish Lawgiver, this examination will be chiefly employed
in explaining arjd vindicating the true CHARACTER of
MOSES.: from whence will arise a new series of argu
ments for the support of the Mi>7OR propositions of the
two syllogisms : and, particularly, a demonstration that
.shews the conclusion of the second syllogism*, to have all
the force of thejirst^: the onjy thing it might seem to
\vant. This demonstration may be reduced to this
syllogism :
None, but one ignorant of the world, or an enthusiast,
who had received a promise like that given to the
Jews, and had lived to the time marked for its
accomplishment, could be mistaken either about
the promise or its completion.
But Moses received such a promise, arid lived to the
time marked for its accomplishment, and was neither
ignorant of the world, nor an enthusiast.
Therefore Moses was not mistaken either about the pro-
mise or its accomplishment.
This will make the subject of the eighth book, or the
second part of the third volume.
IX. Buthaving > towards the conclusion of the eighth
book, in answer to various infidel objections, examined
the pretended reasons of the omission of the doctrine of a
future state of rewards and punishments in the Mosaic
dispensation; I am naturally and necessarily led to
inquire, further, into the TRUE. For now it might be
finally objected, that though, under an extraordinary
providence, there might be no occasion for the doctrine of
a future state of rewards and punishments, in support of
religion, or the ends of government ; yet, as that doctrine
was true, and, consequently, under every regimen of
Providence, useful , it seems hard to conceive that the
religious Leader of the Jeu*s 9 because, as a lawgiver, he
could do without it, that therefore, as a divine, he would
omit it. The objection is of weight in itself, and receives
much additional strength from what we. have observed in
* Namely,, that Meses, who taught, believed likewise, that the
Jewish religion and society were to be supported by an extraor
dinary providence.
.that they were under an extraordinary providence.
the
Sect 5.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS.
the fifth book concerning the reason of the law qf punish-
ing children for the crimes of their parents. I hold it
therefore not sufficient barely to reply, Moses omitted it,
that his law might- thereby remain throughout all ages an
itticiiicible monument of the truth oj his pretences ; but
proceed to explain the great and principal reason of the
omission. Arid now, vent urn ad VEUUM est. This leads
me into one general view of the whole course of Gods
universal economy from Adam to Christ, ending in a
dissertation on the true nature and genius of the CHRIS
TIAN FAITH, and so adding new and irresistible force to
the CONCLUSIONS of both uwst/Uogis?ns.* With this the
ninth book, or third part of the last volume, concludes.
This I purpose to give the Public without delay*: not
for any pressing necessity iiiy argument has of it, for I
left it not, as -was insinuated, naked and supportless; but,
HS the reader now sees, surrounded with various outwork*,
and standing strongly on its candmion , but, principally,
ChM I may be at liberty to address myself to a much larger
ivork A full Defence <:-f Revdatiou ni general and of thf.
(j-hrhhan Faith in particular, aga &st Ujibdievers of fill
2)&termmti(M$-*-A work long .projected, and whidi mv
Christian profession, and still more solemn engagements
in the service of religion, persuaded me was oiy dutv,
H-vith : tlie good leave of my brethven, to devote mysfjf
^ato- Not to speak at present of the high encouragement
to all attempts of this nature from the ieiicity t)f thf,
times, isvhich is, -or would be, -always urging jne on, in tlirv
tds of tlie Poet ;
" Va pfilir sur la Bible "\
% m ; arquer-les ecueils de cette iBer t^riibie :
f Perce la sainte iioiTeiir de ce Ltvre divin :
" -Cdnfbtts dans un Ouvrage t Tindal et Coll in :
J Debro(ii]ie des vieux terns les qwerelles eelebres;
u -clairci dcs Rabins ies savantes teftebres :
qu-en : ta vieillesse, tin livre -en maroquin
/"lille otfHr ton -travail a quskjue lieureux Faquin,
. p our-digne-loier de ia Bible eclaircie^ f
i acceptant d ? n jE vous -
Nbte (*)-*p; 144, voJvvi.
;i
304 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part J<
APPENDIX,
CONTAINING
THE JUDGMENTS OF GROTIUS, EPISCOPIUS,
AND BISHOP BULL;
SHEWING
Thai a future State of Rewards and Punishments was not
taught to the People of the JEWS by the Law and Religion
of MOSES.
GROTIUS. " Moses in Religionis Judaicse Insti-
" tutione, si diserta Legis respichnus, nihil promisit suprai
" hujus vitae bona, terram, uberem, penurn copiosun>j
" victoriam de hostibus, longam & valentem senectuten^
u posteros cum bona spe superstites. Nam, si QUID EST
* ULTRA, in umbris obtegitur, aut sapienti ac DIFFICILJ
" ratiocinationccolligendum est"
EPISCOPIUS." In tota Lege Mosaica nullum
<: vita? aeternse prcemium, ac ne asterni quidem praemii
" INDICIUM VEL VESTIGIUM extat : quicquid mine
" Judsi multiun de futuro seculo, de resurrectione mor-
" tuorum, de vita aeterna Ipquantur, & ex Legis verbis ea
<c extorquere potius quam ostendere conentur, NE LEGEM
" Mosis IMPERFECTAM ESSE cogantur agnoscere cum?
" Sadcjucaeis; quos olim (&, uti observo ex scriptis
" Rabbinorum, hodieque) vitam futuri saeculi Lege Mosis
" nee promitti nec contineri adfirmasse, quuin tamen
* c Judaei essent, certissimum est. Nernpe non nisi per
" Cabalam sive Traditionem, quam illi in universum
* rejiciebaht, opinionem sive fidem illarn irrepsisse asse-
" rebant. Et sane opinionum, quac inter Juda30s erat,
" circa vitam futuri saeculi discrepantk, arguit promis-^
" sjones Lege factas tales esse ut ex iis certi quid cle vita
" futuri saeculi non possit colligi. Quod & Servator
" noster non obscure innuit, cum resurrectionem mor-
* c tuorun*
Appx.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 305
" tuorum colligit Matt. xxn. non ex promisso aliquo
" Legi addito, sed ex general! tantum illo promisso Dei,
" quo se Deum Abrahami, Isaaci, & Jacobi futurum
" spoponderat : quae tamen ilia collectio magis nititur
" cognitione intentionis divinae sub generalibus istis verbis
" occiiltatas aut comprehcnsae, de qua Christo certo con-
" stabat, quain necessaria consequentia sive verborum vi
" ac virtute rnanifesta, qualis nunc & in verbis Novi
" Testament!, ubi vita aj.tema & resurreetio inortuorum
" proram & pnppitn faciunt totius lleligionis Christianas,
" & tain clare ac diserte promittuntur ut ne hiscere
" quidem contra quis possit." Instit. Theol. lib. iii.
sect. i. c. 2.
BULL. " Primo qnaerittir an in Vet. Testamento
" Qullum omnino extet vitas aeternse promissum ? de eo
"enim a nonnullis dubitatur. liesp. Huic quacstioni
* optiine mihi videtur respondere Augustinus, distinguens
" nomen Veteris Testament! ; nam eo intelligi ait aut
" pactum illud, quod in monte Sinai facturn est, aut
" omnia, quas in J\!ose, Hagiographis, ac Prophetis con-
" tinentur. Si Vetus Testamentiwn posteriori sensu acci-
t( piatur, concedi FORSITAX possit, esse in eo nonnulla
<l futurae vitas non obscura indicia ; praesertim in libro
* Psalmorum, Daniele, Sc Ezekiele: quanquam vel in his
" Libris clarum ac disertum reterna) vita; promissum vix
" AC NE vix quidem reperias. Sed ha?c qualiacunque
" erant, non erant nisi praeludia & anticipationes gratia*
"Evangelicre, AD LEG EM NON PERTINEBANT. Lex
* l enim promissa habuit terrena, & terrena TANTUM.
<( Si quis contra sentiat ejus est locum dare, ubi a3ternse
" vitaa promissio extat ; QUOD CEIITE JMPOSSIBILE EST,
" Sub his autem verbis [legis ipsius] Dei intentione
* c comprehensam fuissevitam astemara, ex interpretations
" ipsius Christi ejusque Apostolorum inanifestum est.
" Verum hagc non suiiiciunt ut dicamus vitam ajternam
<c in Foedere Mosaico proinissam fuisse. Nam pririio
w promissa, praesertim Foederi annexa, dcbent esse clura
" ac diserta, & ejusmodi, ut ab utraque parte stipulante
" intelligi possint Promissa an tern ha?c typica & gene-
" ralia, non addita aliimde interpretatione, PENE IMPOS-
" SIBILE ERAT UT QUIS ISTO SF.NSU INTEtLIGERET/ 7
VOL. XI, X Harmonia
3d6 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Pare I,
Jlarmonia Apostolica, Dissert, poster, c. x. sect, viik
p. 474, inter Op. Om. Ed. 1721.
i. Thus these three great ornaments ef the Protestant
Religion. And what more has been- said or done by the
Author of the Dti nie Legation? Only this, he has
shewn, that the absence or omission of a future state of
rewards and punishments in the Mosaic religion is a
certain mark of its divinity. Forgive we this wrong.
It has indeed been objected that Bishop B nil talked very
differently in an English posthumous sermon. - All that
I can say to this ir>, that, if he did so, it was- not by my
direction-; who hold it to he unlawful to say one thing to-
the people, and another to their pastors. But Bishop Ball,
it sectns, might say what he pleased. He might, to
support his opinion, say without censure, nay, with
commendation, that- the doctrine of ft future state was--
amongst the Arcana of the Jews : that there was a two
fold manner of teaching amongst them, one suited to
vulgar -apprehensions, the other to those who had made
seme proficiency in know/edge *. But if I venture to say
so, a kgion of bigots are in arms. And do I say any
Other, in affirming, that during the early ages of the
Jewish republic a future state was not a national doc
trine, hut l;uown only to some jew of their leaders?
Thus can the Writer quoted above abuse me, throughout
a whole pamphlet, for holding the very same tiling for
which Bishop Hull merited his commendation ; and this-
i n an outrageous mamrer too, as if I had said something
most derogatory to the -honour and attributes of God.
But this is the hocus pocus of controversy. When the
Bishop and I have paid him in the same coin, that, from
the Bishop s pocket, shall be true orthodox sterling;
which, from mine, comes out dipt, washt, and counter
feit. But the man s a bungler; and neither understands
clean conveyance, nor has assurance enough to outface
the fraud. Tor, conscious, as it were, of an ill-played
trick, he patches up the cheat in this slovenly manner,
Surely, (says he) there is a great difference between indu-s-
friomly keeping a tiling out of sight, and industriously*
* An Examination of Mr. Warburton s Second Proposition, &c.,
in an epistolary dissertation addressed to the Author, p. 125, just
ROW come to BIV hands.
propagating
Appx.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 307
-propagating it amongst all wno WERE ABLE AND WIL
LING TO RECEIVE IT. p. i 2> Illustrious distinguislicr !
Does not -the BISHOP S industriously propagating It
.amongst all tclio arc able and willing to receive it, imply
the keeping it out of si g I it from the rest ? And does not
MY industriously keeping it out oj sight from the rest,
imply t lie propagating it amongst all who were able and
witling to receive it? But, in this case, I have done
more than by implication; I have said over and over
.again, that it was communicated to the few able to
receive it. I did not indeed add willing. That disco
very was reserved for the wonderful penetration of our
Author. I had no conception but that every Jew was
willing enough to receive not only the promise of the
life tJutt now /,y, but of that . which is to come: but it
is a reasonable question whether they were as cw/e ;
and would not then have quitted both the school and
school-master that was to bring them to Christ long
before the good time he had appointed. But these are
matters above our Author s comprehension. lie will
needs know why God acted thus mysteriously. I .will
tell him when lie informs me (and perhaps before) why
America for so many ages was debarred the light of the
Gospel. Were not these his offspring as well as the sons
of Abraham? But this is the advantage that he and his
fellows take with the ignorant. They cry out, What!
a religion from God without a future state? No. Ra
ther than this, any thing. They will go a text-hunting,
lie at catch for an ambiguity, divorce the .sentence from
its context, strip it naked ; and if, after all this violence,
it does but squint their way, see here, say they, as clear
a proof of it as from the preaching of Jesu$. Yet let
these texts but speak for themselves, or without any
other prompter than the context, and we shall soon sea
that there is not one of ail they have ever produced, in
the period in question, that can by any rules of good cri
ticism be made to signify the least notice of a future state,
otherwise than in a secondary and spiritual sense. In the
mean time let no good man be scandalized with thefr
clamour. All such shall soon see ibis tempest of malice
and bigotry dispersed, and the Scripture of God at ksst
vindicated even from, its worst and most tatal mischief;
x 2 the
308 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part!
the virulence of false zeal. Hut this and bigotry have si>
blinded our Anonymous, that in* another place he insult
ingly asks me; (p. 70) WHJ.KF, / learnt that death, doth
not now n igfi ? and yet before he ends his page he himself
quotes these words v the Apostle, Jesm Christ hath
abolished death *.
2. I Jut now, if the bringing over such kind of writers,
and leading them into the dawn of sense, were any matt< !
of merit, I had much to boast of. When I first adven
tured to fall upon their systems*, nothing was heard
amongst them but" that 11 foxes did teach a-futdre state;
" and plainly too ; if not, the worse for hin>; tor he
" ought to hare taught />." This was then the cry. But
now their note is altered. This Anonymous owns very
frankly that Closes taught no future state, nay more,,
could not teach it. Moses (says he) as- *n authorized
teacher could not declare the doctrine of a future state.
This doctrine icas not in his commission r pp. 5 & 7. And
so, in other places-, to the same purpose. Thus, after
having fought through all that own weapons in vain, tliej
will now try if they cannot silence mewkhmute; and
make that very principle on which I raised my second
proposition serve to the subversion of it. For the reader
must not fancy that they now begin to embrace any of my
principles in the love of truth, but of contention only.
But let us take him as we find him. lie says, Moses had
it not in cumjntssiun to leach a future state. Be it so;
1 ask then, first, how lie comes to know this ? If he says,
because Motes did not teach it, lie Mill argue as becomes
him. But 1 will suppose him to say because it was re-
served for thv commission of Jtsus.- Then thus I argue
That traditional knowledge, which this man says they had
of the doctrine, was either a divine or human tradition.
If he suys, a divine, then some holy man had it in com
mission to teach before Moses, or God himself taught, it.
In either case, I ask why it could not have been intrusted
to Moses, when instituting a new religion and civil govern
ment, since it was of a nature to be intrusted? If. he
n ill say, of human tradition, it is then certain Moses s
silence, in a religion to which nothing was to be added,
and from which nothing was to be taken, must have very
* 2 Tim. i. 10.
soon
OCCASIONAL REFLECTION S. 309
soon erased all human traditions from the minds and
memory of *he people; which indeed was the case.
Though human traditions, in after-ages, they had enough.
And when I come to shew why they took them up, and
whence they had them, that they hud them not in the
times in question will be seen to -a demonstration. I
only mention this, to shew the wretched futility of such
a writer, who, when he steals a true principle, -knows so
little wiiat ito .make of it. It is very true, This doc-trwc
was not w Moses s commission. And from this great truth
I shall prove, to the shame of .all such writers, tfcal it
cmdd not be a national doctrine amongst the Je&w in .the
times 1 mention. But this in my to / volume. l ; or I
proceed vei y differently from these writers. They, from
what <they imagine, could uot be, would pi ove it ic-as not.
I, from what I prove teas not, shew afterwards what could
not be. But he saw not -this, that the people s not having
the doctrine was .a .necessary .consequence -of Moses s not
teaching k. And no wonder, w hen we consider hx-nv the
came by his principle, .that te -should understand none of
its consequences. Hence 4t k hat he so iguorantly
accuses me of having confounded these tico things
throughout my book. That is, of taking advantage of, and,
all the way, inforcing a necessary cpnseq.uence from a
certain principle.
But, one word more with him on this head. He says,
Moses liMcl itjwt in commission. A\ hat things l?e of the
bookofJ^P Jle says he thinks of it vexy dijjen ntly
from inc. It is prudently said, and enough .-to secure his
credit, and keep him orthodox. \V,e \\ ill ibj once sup.-
port IHS wiodcsty; ad conceive him -to hold, that the
book was written by A foxes; 3*3 d that the JamQUS text,
in the iiineteenth chapter, relates .to the resurrection.
But thea what becomes of the principle .of Moses s JIQ
commission? Or will he say Mows, did not write it, and
ithat the text in -the aiaeteei>th clu-i|)ter does not relate to
,a resurrection? What then becomes of his orthodoxy?
See now what it js to be sharking the principles of the
profane. Common sense cries out against this unsanctj-
lied commerce,
Veto c?$c talc luminis commerciunL
* f
REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part T.
If the good man will believe me, he is out of his way.
I would advise him to return again as fast as he can into-
the old Dunstable road of Moses and a future state j or
crcr. This was only an intemperate fit of zeal that
hurried him half seas over, before he knew where he was,
or had time to look about him. For what is it he is
doing? "Moses instituted the whole of an entire new
<c religion : enjoins nothing to be added to, nor taken
: from it : purposely omits the doctrine of a future state,
" because it v\as not in his commission, but reserved for
" the great Redeemer of mankind ; and yet the people,
" to whom he gave this religion, had the doctrine of a
" future state as of national belief, all along from his
" time, to the Captivity, though v\e can find no footsteps 1 .
" or traces of it in their history."
Credat JUDJEUS Apdh,
may, I believe, be given in answer to this man s creed with
greater propriety than ever it was applied since Horace
first used it, After this, Is such a writer to be argued with r
To talk of a doctrine not being in the commission of a
minister of God, because it was reserved for a future
ri ;e ; and yet that the people on whom Iris ministry was
employed had all along this very doctrine, is a mockery
both of God and man. For why was not Moses per
mitted to teach it, but because the knowledge of it was
reserved for a future age ? Or if they were then taught
it, or had it, what hindered but J\ loses might have taught
it? , J3e not deceived; as God is not imcktd, so neither
does he mock his creatures. In short, this reasoning of
my adversary is, verbis t oiler e, re povere, the reverse of
the Epicurean : but perhaps he may like it the better for
it, as tis paying those Jewish Epicureans, the 8adducees> in
kind : and with this class of Answerers the reverse of
icrortg is always right. But I am quite ashamed of my
Anonymous. Let the reader only take notice, that this is
the sole point now remaining in dispute between us.
3. As to the palwqry argument, (of a future state of
rewards and punishments not -being known to the Je\cs,
or making part of their national doctrine from Moses to
the Captivity) taken from the consideration of their ic hole
history, as delivered in the, Bible; which t^ie reader has
H an
Appx.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 311
an account of in this Review .[p. 294] ; our Answerer has
.not so much its attempted to touch upon it: though,
against him, who owns Mpscs neither did, nor could
teach u future state, it comes with a redoubled bound.
Indeed at page 102, of his pamphlet, he has \ke caurngi .
-to quote it m part, and still greater neither to pretend to
answer it, nor to confess its force ; but, to eutd all, he
drops it in this manner // /vj/, truly Sit\ there is a
difficulty in conceiving it: and yet icere the case as you
have represented it, I should >not venture to call it a
DEMONSTRATION. J/tTe negative proofs are of M
ethers most uncertain, &c. Venture! Why I see you
dare not venture so much as to look it in the face. And
what you may call it behind its back, will 1x3 but the
railing of a baffled coward. No, ycrar genius has directed
you to a litter task; and you go on to prove that the
body of the Jcics had the doctrine, from texts nothing
relating to the matter, but such as have been forced into
this service by Jeics and system-makers as, dttys of pil
grimage being gatha d to their fathers giving up the
ghost God s krhtghtg every work into jut/gin cut the.
righteous having hope in his death David s hope being
m Gcdkis behig a stranger and sigoumer And tiie
joke of it is, he tells me I might have found out this
meaning in them too, had I but consulted his commen
tators. And witli this miserable recocta cnunbe his
whole pamphlet is stuffed out from side to -side.
4. I had introduced r-ny evidence from the writers of
$he New Testament in this manner. " But what is of
" greatest weight, tlie inspired writers of the New Tes-
" tament expressly declare the same. They assure us
41 that the doctrine of a future state of rewards and
*. punishments did not make part of the ^Mosaic dispen-
sation*." On which our Writer thus remarks : " The
" Christian reader perhaps may be at a loss to -ko\v why
41 the testimony of tlie inspire^ writers of the Kcw
" Testament should be of greater weight in this case
" than the inspired \vritcrs of tl^e Old. But what is worse,
" unbelievers (for whose couvictiqn I presume your
" demonstration is intended) may ask by what right the
tf Authors of tlie New Testament came to be admitted as
* l)iv. Leji. Uook v. vi, init.
x 4 " evidence,
312 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Parti.
" evidence, who lived at the distance of so many hundred
" year s, * c. p. 66. Which shall we here most admire?
the charitable insinuation in the first part? or the shrewd
remark in the second? Thou flower of divines ! I did
not say that the testimony of the inspired writers of the
New Testament has greater weight than an equal testi
mony of the inspired writers of the Old. But that their
testimony in the case in hand had greater weight, as (in
the opinion of such as you whom I am here endeavouring
in vain to convince) u positive proof by express decla
ration, is stronger than a negateoG arising from an omis
sion. It was but just before this very man was quarrelling
with negative evidence. But what in worse, says he,
unbelievers />.</// ask, c. What ! that which nothing
concerns them ? I had observed over and over, that they
all agreed to this truth, and that therefore, in this part,
I addressed myself to believers. But, ashamed himself
of this disingenuity, he retracts his own objection; But
as 1 am arguing, says he, with you on Christian prin
ciples, I can have no benefit froni this plea. p. 67. And
was not 1 arguing with him, as well as he with me?
Can he blush for this, or must I ?
5. In sect. vi. of the fifth book of The Divine Legation^
where I endeavour to prove the minor proposition from
the^sew Testament, I introduce the discourse thus, u This
" evidence may be divided into two parts, tliGjirst proving
" that temporal rewards and punishments were the sane-
" tion of the Jewish dispensation ; the second, that it had
" no other." Now let the reader turn to this Writer,
p. 07,cy sey. and he will see how, by the vilest prevari
cation, he has argued against the Jirst sort brought by
me to prove temporal rewards the sanction, as if 1 hacl
brought them to the same purpose with the second,
namely, to prove, that there was no other,
6. With the same spirit it is that he endeavours to,
make me contradict myself, where in one place *,
speaking of the patriarchs (who, I own, referred tq
//e#. xi. ver. 13 and 14. saw the promises ajar off and.
were persuaded, fyc.) 1 say that even tiiey, the sacred
v, ritu assures us, had not received the promises, refer
ring to vcr. 39. And, in another place*, speaking of
* Div. Lfg, Book vi. 4.
the
Appx.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 313
the same 39th verse, I say the sacrecl writer is speaking
here of the faithful Israelites in general. Hence this
great critic says I am guilty of a manifest contradiction,
and laments in his kind way, that these passages are bcth
suffered to stand to shame one another, p. 97. They shall
stand for a better purpose, to shame all such scribblers as
are not yet come to their elements ; and do not so much
as know that omne inajus coHtlne) in sc minus. For if
in verse 39 the sacred writer be speaking of the faithful
Israelites in general, had L not reason to say from thence,
that LFEN the Patriarchs were included ? However,
h r might at least have understood so much English as to
know that the conjunction crcti implies not exclusion, but
extension.
7. He insults me, and puzzles himself with this ques
tion, "If the ancient heathen legislators taught it [a,
u future state] or if the main body of the Jewish nation
" believed it before the coming of Christ, how was it
" brought to light by the Gptyel? If this text will stand
" with supposing that the general knowledge of a future
" state was generally received amongst the Jews from the
" time of trie Maccabees down to Christ, will you be
" pleased to inform me why it will not as well stand with
" supposing that they hud this doctrine for as many ages
" backward?" And for fear I should not answer him (as
indeed he had reason) he answers it himself. To bring
to light does not here sigiufij to discover what before was
absolutely unknown. It signifies THEREFORE iht more
open or public manifestation of what before was known
either imperfectly or but to a few. pp. 72, 73. Egre
gious divipe ! If it does not signify that (you say) it must
Dignify this. Peat your brains no further: for once I ll
tell you, if signifies neither; but (what your systems never
dreamt of) that this was the first time of its being revealed
III God, cither to the Jeicish people as a nation, or to
mankind in general. The sacred writer did not deign to
call that, bringing to light, which was hatched in the
bosom of superstition, and soon became polL t d with a
thousand fables in passing through the impuie hands of
.system-making Jews and Gentiles. From whence I rea
sonably concluded it was never targht by Gcd to the
Jewish people throughout the period in question. What
was
314 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
%vas taught by man is another thing, and entirely out of
the question. But you do not understand this : 1 believe
so: nor, I will say that for you,. scarce any one general
proposition throughout my whole hook.
S. I said that the doctrine of a future life and resur-
tection \vas not national till the time of the Maccabees
lie tells me, he Imows I will say that they had it from
the prophets, yet the prophets iccre dead tico hundred
years before. JVliy then (says he) could not the Jews
learn this doctrine from the very frst, as well as their
posterity at the distance of ages afterwards? pp. 1 1 2,
1 1 3. This sorely distresses our theologaster : yet, in
stead of humbling himself under the weight of his own
dulness, he turns, as is his way throughout, to insult the
Author of The Diane Legation. Now, though this
usage deserve no favour, 1 will try to open his under
standing. The prophets had expressed a temporal de
struction and restoration in the figurative terms of death
and resurrection. This being agreeable to the language
of those times, the people, full only of ideas of a tem
poral nature, rested in the primary sense. But \vhea
by the total withdrawing the extraordinary providence
of God, these people (who had right notions of his
Being and attributes) had once begun to entertain the
reasonable hopes of a future state ; they would then as
naturally search their scriptures for support. And thea
it was they first began to understand that those prophecies
had a secondary sense, and a sublimer meaning. In this
sense, and on this account it is that I say, they receive the
doctrine of the resurrection from the prophets. If he
ask me, uith his usual insolence, how I come to know
that they received the doctrine of the resurrection from
the prophets, I will tell him this too, which is more than
his Genera systems could inform him of, that the doctrine
\vas nowhere else to be had. If all this will not satisfy
him, let us turn the tables, \vhile I question him. Tlie
prophets prophesy of the birth, office, death, and passion,
of Jesus. The Jeu s in general, till the coming of C hrist,
and some time after, mistook this prophecy for the [ TO-
mise of a temporal deliverer, quite different from the
Messiah of mankind ; yet, after the resurrection, they
understood better. lion so? I ask in his own words-,
h
Appx.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 31 5
Is it likely that the sons should have learnt from the dead
prf -hets what the fathers could riot learn Jrom the
living? p. 1 12. He \\oukl be hard put to it, I believe,
for a pertinent reply, without condescending to use the
answer I have provided lor him above, What is here
said will serve for an answer- to the same kind of ob
jection urged again at page 50, where, from my
owning that some passages, which relate literally to
temporal things, had a spiritual and sublimer meaning,
he supposes the Jews of those times must needs have
found it out.
9. Again, " Though here (says he) you seem to be of
" opinion that it will in nothing affect the practice of
" virtue nticther a future state is believed or not, pro-
" vided the will of God is allowed to he the foundation of
" morality ; yet, in your Preface to the Jews, you tell them
" that the Jewish religion must want much of absolute
" perfect ion, because it wants a doctrine so essential to
" religion. It is inexplicable to me, Sir, how that should
<c be essential to religion, by the want of which the practice
" of virtue will in nothing be affected." pp. 130, 131.
And are you indeed so dull as you pretend? or is this
only a mask for your modesty, to hide vour blushes, for
so shameless a prevarication : What man living but your
learned self does not see, that where I speak, in the first
case, of the practice of virtue, on, what / call, the true
foundation of morality, I am considering it under an
extraordinary providence amongst the Jews of old : and
where, in the Preface, of a future state as essential to
religion, I am considering it under an ordinary and COJH--
won providence, amongst the Jews of the present
times ? Yet in this very page (p. 131) has this man the
modest assurance to say, TRUTH is WHAT I SEEK. It
fnajpbssibly be so ; and therefore I will take a little more
pains with him. What, then, let me ask him, has the
purity of virtue to do with the perfection of religion, so
as that they must necessarily imply one another ; and I
be accused of contradiction, for saying, that the Jewish
virtue was pure, and yet their religion imperfect? Will
not this very man himself say the same thing, though,
I ween, for different, reasons r But do the different
reasons
REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Parti
reasons of an assertion, make the same assertion a
contradiction in me, and a plain truth in him ? Allow
him but a future state for .his Jews, and their virtue, then,
becomes pure : but Mill he say their religion is perfect ?
But, because tliere .can be no perfect religion without
pure virtue, )ie concluded the other way, that there could
be no pure virtue without & per feet religion; and so has
patched me in his contradiction-trap, which he has laid,
with the same success, I don t know how often, througu.-
out the course of this debate.
And here the judicious reader, I am sure, cannot but
smile to see him insinuate (p. 129), with a sneer, that
Bishop J$ull must needs Jje a stranger to my scheme, as
he thinks it, of moral obligation, lie supposed, in good
earnest, the Bishop could read his Bible, as he has done,
without seeing that the ground of this obligation is there
made to be the mil of God. But this it is to have to do
with a head whose sense is all run to system.
10. Once more. In that miserable sophistical shuffle
tyith those few of my ^rguments, on the Case of Abra
ham, which he dares venture to encounter in his App&idix,
he brings it as a contradiction, that, after I had said, the
information, conveyed in the command to otter Isaac,
vvas for Abrahams sole we, I should then suppose his
family knew of it. And in this lie triumphs with his
usual vivacity and success, pp. 167, 168. Here again
I am at a loss, as things are so equally balanced, to know
which was at fait in this place, his head or heart ; but
ijo matter : they are both past my mending. I will turn
to the reader. Where I speak of the information s being
given for Abrahams sole use,, I am. .assigning a reason for
the ohscurity of the historical relation, so far as concerns
the information, which I suppos.od to be conveyed in the
command : consequently, his sole use is opposed to the
Jewish people, when the history of the command was
Britten ; and not to his own family, haat .awl Jacob,
when the command was given ; whom I all <*long reckon
amongst those patriarchs who had some knowledge of the
redemption of mankind. Suppose it should be .thought
proper to give this man a dignity for his works .y<//r, in
labour of low, and he should he told it was for
Appx.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 31
sole use; he would be apt, I suspect, to think that this
rather excluded the body of the poor and needy, than his
own dear family.
1 1. Again " Nor (says he) will the Pagan Fable of
" Dianas substituting a hirid in the place oflphigcnia
" at all help your unbeliever. This did not, say you >
" make idolaters believe that she therefore abhorred human
" sacrifices. But do not they themselves, or have not
" you assigned a very proper and sufficient reason why it
" did not, tv :. that they had been before persuaded to the
66 contrary ? Where human sacrifices make a part of
" the settled standing religion ; the refusal to accept a
" human sacrifice in one particular instance, may indeed
" rather be looked upon as a particular indulgence than
" as a declaration against the thing ingress. But where
" the thing was commanded but in one single instance^
" and the command revoked in that very instance (which
" is our present case) such revocation in all reasonable
" construction is as effectual a condemnation of the thing
" as if God had told Abraham, in so many words, that
" he delighted not in such sacrifices." p. 161. I quote
this out of mere charity, because it looks like sense ;
and is the only thing that does so throughout the whole
pamphlet. But this fair appearance is only in profile.
What it has on one side, it wants on another; and betrays
the grossest ignorance of antiquity. At this very time
human sacrifices had overspread the superstition of
Canaan. And thence it is that the Deist s argument
receives its force. The family of Abraham, say they,
who found the same practice commanded him which they
saw esteemed by all the Pagans round about as the sub-
limest height of piety, a practice, as appears from Scrip
ture, not positively forbidden but by the law of Moses,
would, in the case they put, be naturally tempted to
think as favourably of it as those Pagans, who under*
stood that Diana required Ip/tigema, though she accepted
a hind in her stead.
12. After all these victories, he may be well excused
the interposing with his own good will and pleasure.
" If it is your intention (says he) to proceed, and it were
" not too great a presumption in me to offer my advice;.
" it should be to lay the weight of your argument, not
"upon
3i 8 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
" upon this, that the Jews knew nothing of a future state ;
" but upon this, that the laic of Moses had made no pro-
(t - vision for it. IF THIS PRINCIPLE is ALL YOU WANT,
" IT WILL STAND, and you \\ill have nothing to answer
" for, but the ill judgment of advancing and taking so
"much pains to support another point \\ith \vhich your
"conclusion has nothing to do." p, 134. Goodly and
gracious ! Here he shews how capable a reader he is of
The Divine Legation. He confesses not to know whe
ther this principle is all / want to establish my demon
stration ;" and yet he will turn answerer. But what the
connexion of a long chain of reasoning hindered him
from seeing, I hope this short view will bring to light :
and that the second syllogism will inform him, that WHAT
HE GRANTS is ALL I WANT. For if Moses would leave
his people to get or keep a doctrine as they could, so
necessary, and believed by him to be so necessary, under
an ordinary providence, to religion and society, we must
needs conclude, he was well assured, that his institution
could do without it ; or, in other words, that the defect
would be supplied by the administration of an extraordi
nary providence. The dispute, therefore, seems now to
be at an end between us. He owns, I have gained npy
point : that I have got to the goal : all that he would
now dispute with me is the road. I must take the track
lie marks out to me ; and / have nothing to answer j or
but the ill judgment of advancing and takin< f so much
/ O i/ O O
pains to support another point with which nui conclusion
has nothing to do. Say you so, kind Sir ! with what face
then could you tell the world, just before, that / ought
to wake amend* jbr the wrong 1 have done to religion in
the second volume of The Divine Legation, in which,
instead of placing Christianity on a .surer bottom, 1 have
0)ily furnished out more handles to unbelievers? p. 132.
What ! Is proving the divinity of Jlfvsess religion, a
thing ior which I ought to make amends and repent, as a
wrong done to Christianity? Suppose I was willing to
support the proof in a way you do not like ; you confess
that, in this, / have nothing to amzver for but the ILL
JUDGMENT of taking pains to support another point with
which my conclusion has nothing to do. Am I therefore,
for my HI Judgment, to be ranked amongst the injurious
subvertcrs
Appx.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 319
.siibverters of Revelation ? What then will become of
-yon ? But such as these seem to care little whether
religion be true or. false, unless k can be supported OR
their systems. They hail been bred up in the belief that
the old Jezcs, as well as their laic, \vcre spiritual, and
then
Turpe put anf par ere mhwribus, $ qn&
Imberbes didiccre, senes pcrdcnda fateri.
After this, it was in vain for the Apostle to tell them, in
the person of a Jeu\ We know that the law is s PI HIT UAL,
but I am CARN A L. However, let him set his heart at rest
(if at least the conscience of so unjust a calumny will
suffer him). For though this principle, that the law of
Moses made no provision for a future state, be all I want
to support my demonstration ; yet I mean, I can assure
him, to secure it with this other, that the body of. the
Jews for some ages knew nothing of it. This I should
do, were it for nothing else but that it is a TRUTH. offen
sive to bigots and their systems ; by which they have done
their best to render both the word of God, and reason of
man, of no effect. But I have weightier motives : I shall
Riake it serve Jfor the noblest purposes of religious truth
ami piety.
But why do I speak of these matters to him; who is so
exceeding ignorant even of the very forms of argument, that
having giveo us to understand that he saw I had linished
the major proposition in the first volume, and the minor
in the second, he goes on thus " As your conclusion is
" to be the subject of a future boo.k, I think I have no
" right to meddle with it at present. I will prejudge you
" in- nothing, and skill therefore leave you at full
" liberty to cox NEc/r IT V/ITH YOUR PREMISSES, as you
" shall find yourself able." p. 4. Here he plainly ap
pears not to- understand what natwaL connexion there is
between the major, minor, and conclusion. I had learnfc
that the CONCLUSION had been CONNECTED with the
PREMISSES by Aristotle long ago; but it seems, so un
happy still am I, that the thing is yet to do. Thanks indeed
to this .merciful divine I / am left at fall liberty to do
it,, as / thall jind my^lf able,
1, But
320 REMARKS ON SEVERAL fPart L
13. But one word more, and I have done. " Whether
" (says he) you intend to proceed, or will suffer yourself
" to be wholly diverted from your purpose by matters of
" another kind /CM suitable to your clerical junction, you
" best know. But give me leave- to say, Sir, you are a
" debtor to the public ; and I hope that in your next
" volume \ou will make some amends, for the wrong you
" have done to religion in this ; in which, instead of
" placing Christianity upon a surer bottom, you have
" only furnished out more handles to unbelievers. " p. 132.
I scarce know whether I am not to take this for pure
kindness, and a sort of friei-dly impatience for my third
volume : which certainly, if it would hold, he has con
trived a very speedy way to obtain : and that is by proving
it a debt. And this at least I will do him the justice to
say, that if I be a debtor to the public, it must be for the
reason he so candidly suggests, or none at all. But, alas !
he has, as a good friend in the like case might have, his
doubts and his fears. lie questions whether I will not
suffer myself to be wholly diverted from my purpose by
matters of another kind less suitable to my clerical
function. Less suitable than what ? why, according to
him, than writing to the wrong and injury of religion,
and giving more handles to unbelievers. What I am then
diverted by, must be very unsuitable indeed. But will
the good man be so kind to tell us what this diversion is ?
Thank you for that indeed. As things are now carried,
and left in the dark, who knows but the reader, in excess
of charity, may take it to be a whore, or a horse-race,
or a good job of simony; a party pamphlet, or levee-
hunting, or Exchange Alley, or, in short, twenty things
besides; eacli of them sufficient to discredit the mere
unorthodox man! With this good luck, I make no doubt
but he would wipe his moittlt, and applaud his innocent
address. Well, then, since the meanness and, malignity
of his heart will not suffer him to tell, / will. The
diversion he hints at, and yet dare not name, is a critical
defence and illustration of the writings of one of the
greatest Geniuses of this, or indeed of any age, to con
vince the prejudiced and ignorant, that the incomparable
writer hath been always on the side of truth, virtue,
and
xJ OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 321
and religion. And now the secret is out. In the mean
time, I dare suppose, that our Anonymous holds it as a
thing very suitable to clerical profession, to calumniate
.his brother only for differing from him in opinion, though
in the support of that very cause which himself pretends to
-espouse. I give handles to unbelievers, while I endea
voured to prove an extraordinary providence, admini
stered in the Jewish republic, a fact, by the truth or
falsehood of which, the religion of Moses must stand or
O
fall. But this man, and his fellows, it seems, give none,
who, in writing against me, are so far from saying one
word in its behal}\ that they seem rather to treat it as
a vision of the Author of the D. L. This Writer par
ticularly seems to have given no obscure intimations, up
and down his pamphlet, that he believes nothing of the
matter. But how has my saying, that the doctrine was
not national, but unknown to the body of the Jewisk
people between the times of Moses and the Captivity,
given more handles to unbelievers? Was I the first
broacher of the opinion? Look upon the three great
testimonies above. Or would it have remained hid, had
I not divulged it? Has this man never heard of the
present overflow of infidelity ? Or has he ever heard of
o.ne Deist that believed a future state to be a national
doctrine amongst the Jews within the period aforesaid ?
Or, to be plain with him, is there indeed more than a
few bigots like himself that now believe it? Yv hat was
then to be done ? Here was a very general opinion,
grounded upon common sense, supposed to be discredit
able to Revelation. I examined it. On examination it
appeared to me a truth. Was I to disguise or hide it
(according to the principle and practices of these men)
because it gave scandal? Far be those arts from every
minister of the Gospel ! I well knew, if it were a truth,
it would never hurt Revelation. I chose then to give
glory to truth; and, in that, to the God of truth:
and, by so doing, I became enabled to demonstrate
to .unbelievers that this, which they esteemed a dis^
credit to the religion of Moses, was a convincing mark:
of its divinity. Arid for this, , and this only, I am said
by this writer to have wronged religion, and given more
handles Jo infidelity. But I forgive him, and prty
XI, Y that
322 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I,
that God, whose holy religion I am defending, may
forgive him too.
1 4. jjtft the reader, by this time, must needs be curi
ous to know what it was that could provoke our Anony
mous to write with so much acrimony against his brother^
embarked with him in the same cause of religion, while
there were so many Infidel -tenters- rennained unanswered,
Cumque sitperba foret Babylon spolianda tiwplueis.
And for w hat ? a vision, nobody will thank him for, un
less it be half a dozen bigots : always excepting the
venerable J&vish church, of which he has shewn himself
*o zealous a support. She surely owes him her best
acknowledgments for keeping her children close attached
to her, and hardening them in their infidelity. For, were
it not for this inveterate error, they had long since come
over to the faith of Jesus, there being then nothing to
obstruct their sight in the manifest Imperfection of the
Law ; to prevent which, their Leaders, as the great
Kpiscophis informs us, took so much pains (so well
seconded here by our Anonymous) to ASSERT THK FAITH
OF THE ANCIENT JEWISH CHURCH; and to prove,
that their forefathers always had the doctrine of a
future state, Quicquid mine Jnd&i multum de futiiro
seculo de resurreettone mortuoruni, de vita ct tenia loquan-
iut\ $ c\v Lcgis verbis ea ev torque re pot ins quam osten-
dere conentur, NE LEGEM Mosis IMPEUFEGTAM ESSE
cogantur agnoscere *. For he cannot sure be so weak to
think it possible, that, when he has agreed with them,
that their church always had a future state, they wilt
agree with him, that Moses did not teach it. All this
considered, it uould have been very difficult to divine his
motive for writing against me, had not he himself fairly,
and without disguise, informed us of it, in the very
entrance on his work. Not to mince the matter, it was
that little reputation, (yet more than lie could bear) which,
it seems, the Divine Legation had accidentally bestowed
upon its Author. "That you have given (says our
" Anonymous] great proofs of your learning and ingenuity,
I- shall not dispute: arid you have had a fair time,
* See the quotaiiori above.
"allowed,
Appx.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 323
" allowed you to receive the COMPLIMENTS OF THE
" PUBLIC on that score. It may now be seasonable to
" call you to something, which, though perhaps less
" agreeable to you, may yet be more profitable ; and that
" is, to consider how much truth you have advanced, and
" what real service you have done, or are likely to do to
" religion, by this undertaking." p. 34. And why will he
not dispute the great proof* of my learning and ingenuity?
He has disputed a more incontestable thing; the truth,
which that learning and ingenuity were employed to
illustrate : and," if these appeared with any distinction, it
was solely owing to the advantage of the subject.
But / have had a fair time allowed me to receive the
compliments of the Public. How allowed me ? and by
whom ? certainly not by such writers as these. For if
their clamours could have prevailed, I had received the
public odium rather than its compliments. And the reader
may see, by the short list given of them in the beginning
of this pamphlet, that those clamours begun the very
moment the first volume of The Divine Legation ap
peared ; and have continued ever since, without inter
ruption, to the publication of our Author s Epistolary
Dissertation.
But, after all, what were these compliments? And
where have they lain hid ? Nothing, from the Public,
ever came to my knowledge but the calumnies of my
adversaries. In some sense, indeed, these may be called
compliments, and substantial ones too. For, next to the
old way of complimenting, Laudari a laudato Viro, I
prize the next?, now all in fashion, vituperari a perditissimo
quoque. He, perhaps, may think the sale of the book
a good substantial compliment. But, for that, my book
seller must thank them ; especially if lie gave them not
their pennyworth for their money.
However, to take these, compliments in their obvious
sense. I know of nothing for which I had more reason
to expect the compliments of the public, than for the
Alliance between Church and State, as it was a defence
(and I will presume, from its being yet unanswered, an
effectual one) of the justice and equity of our present
happy establishment ; at a time when the enemies of all
Y a Church
324 REMARKS OK SEVERAL [Part I.
Church establishments were commonly supposed to have
demonstrated it to be indefensible. Yet what public
compliment did I ever receive for this service? unless it
: may be reckoned a compliment, that .those, in whose
I behalf it was particularly written, have never yet pub
licly disavowed the free and moderate principles on which
it goes. But that, the honest layman will perhaps say,
is no bad compliment to themselves.
I am here all along pleading for my adversary. For
had I indeed received the compliments he talks of, he
\vould find it very difficult to bring his modesty off unhurt.
The wrong judgment of the Public being, in that case,
the principal object of his pamphlet: the drift of which
is to shew that I deserved no compliment, as 1 had con
founded and mistaken the question, run into contradic
tions, and done injury to Christianity : nay, even in this
very place, where he talks of the great proofs of my
learning and ing&t&ity, he cannot forbear insinuating
that I liave advanced no truth, nor done any real service
to religion. Miserable then, indeed, is that learning and
ingenuity! Well does iie say he would not dispute them.
For, for any thing they are worth, there they may lie ;
and he may safely trust to time to revenge his quarrel
on them.
From all this, then, we must conclude that these public
compliments are but the mormosvi his own brain : things
he rather Jen red than saw ; and that, through the false
consciousness of a supposed worth, he is no judge of.
In this troublesome situation, the only way he had of
/YAsWif Mmst lf \v*.s to attempt to give me pain- indeed
.the only caxe such writers are capable of, when they see,
or imagine they >see, a merit in others. It is time (says
. lie) to call you to something less agreeable.
Well, but if it be, as he promises, more profitable, he
makes me sufficient amends. And there was no danger of
- his not keeping his word : for an use is always to be made of
the calumnies of one s enemies. Besides, it must be a poor
filing indeed that will not atford -move -profit than the
airy "compliments he talks of: which were they as real as,
"lor aught appears, they are imaginary, I solemnly assure
him, I would give them all for the honest satisfaction of
rj having
Appx.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 325
having made one single convert ; and I have reason to
hope I have made many by my writings, from irreligion
to the faith of Jesus.
However, \he profit I may get by an adversary is one
thing ; and the profit he may propose is another. Let us
see then what our Anonymous aims at. It is (lie tells us)
to consider how much truth I have advanced, cr witat
real service I hare done, or am likely to do to rce!$wn> by
this underiaJdng. Modestly intimating, that I have ad
vanced no truth ; done no real service, nor likely to do
any to religion. And now, methinks, I hear the equitable
and indignant reader crying out, Sum* superbiam, c.
And certainly if this liberty may be allowed in any case, it
must in this, where a man s honest endeavours, in his
proper station, to serve his country and manidnd. are
blackened by the dull low envy of an anonymous slan
derer. What ! Was it advancing no truth, was it doing
no service to religion, to confute the Atheistic principles
of Bayle, the immoral doctrine fef.jUJBfi&tfi&f, and settling
morality on its true basis, and shewing it to be that an
which Revelation hath placed it? To justify the equity
of an established religion ; vindicate the Christian fronv
the charge of a persecuting spirit; shew the absolute
necessity of religion for the support of society, and yet
that it had its original, neither from priests nor states
men, but from truth, and truth s great Author ? Again,
Was it advancing no truth, was it doing no service to
religion, to shew that the Mosaic had all the distinguish
ing marks of divinity; to vindicate the Bible history
against the greatest modern Philosopher and Chronologer ;
to explain the nature of the Jewish theocracy, and, by
that, to justify the equity of those two famous laws, of
punishing for opinions, and punishing posterity for the
crimes of their forefathers ; to confute the most able
book ever wrote against Revelation, the Grounds and
Reasons of the Christian Religion ; and, above all, to
explain, and to be the first who ever did explain, the
nature of types in action > and secondary senses in speech,
on which, depend altogether the rational interpretation of
ancient prophecies, and the truth of the mission of
Jesus? But for the further confutation of so wretched
a calumny, the reader need only turu back again to
y 3 the
326 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
the view I have here given of the argument of the Divine
Legation. . Yet none of these matters, no, nor an hun
dred more, has he so ni ich a:- touched upon, or pretended
to confute. Will he say therefore that these are not what
he meant, when he promised to shew, that I had ad*
vancc d no truth, dene no real service to religion? But
only my peculiar argument for The Dlcinc Legation rf
Moses. Why then did he make his charge so general,
when his proof w&s so confined? As his modesty will
not suffer him to tell, it shall be helped out. The reader
then must know, that it is a fundamental maxim with all
the writers of this class (as it is amongst the Jesuits)
never to acknowledge that an adversary can do any thing
<?//, lest the puhlic should take it into their heads that
other things are not so ill as is represented. This is the
wicked spirit of controversy, and under the possession
of it I leave him. For I am ashamed of having wasted
a moment with so unprofitable a writer.
The judicious reader, I am sure, would not excuse me
if he thought many were so misemployed. The truth is,
the reading his book (which is the first I ever read
through, of all that have been hitherto wrote against me),
and the writing this Appendix, took me up but a part
only of this one evening. Though I have answered every
thing in it worth notice ; or that had the least chance of
misleading a well-meaning reader. However, if he will
teli his name, and shew 7 his face ; and it appears that the
one has been heard of, or the other ever seen in good
company, I do hereby promise to give his Considerations
on the Case of Abraham, &c. a distinct answer, para
graph by paragraph, in the manner of that, to one much
his betters, the truly learned and worthy Editor of the
book of Job, Nay, I will do more lor his encourage
ment: I will shew as particular a respect to the ratfof
.his parr.phlet; but on this further condition, however,
that he, at the Fame time, produce me some ONE com
petent judge who shall say, on his credit, that it deserves
any other answer than what has been already given to it.
But without this, a final adieu to his nameless nothing ;
but with this testimony, however, that a duller, a more
disingenuous, or ignorant book, 1 never read.
December 17, 1743.
Postscript] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 327
POSTSCRIPT.
I HAVE said, that all this writer has urged, from
texts of Scripture, to prove a future state in the Jewish
dispensation, is so utterly contemptible, and void of sense,
as to deserve no kind of answer. But that he may not
flatter himself in the imagination of any other cause of
my neglect of him, I shall here examine a single objection
(sent me in a private anonymous Letter), which has more
plausibility of reason than all his arguments, on this
head, put together. And, as the Author s manner of
communicating it has the appearance of candour and love
cf truth, l>e will always deserve more regard than a
thousand such writers as the Examiner of the second
Proposition. The objection is in these words : " Moses
" inforces the ohcdience of the Israelites upon this con-
" sideratian, Yc skull therefore keep ?ny statutes and
"judgments, which if a man do, he shttU lire in them **.
" Here is a promise of life made to those who should
" observe the statutes and judgments which God gave
" them by his servant Mpxe>r, which cannot be understood.
" of this temporal life oaly, because the best men were
" often cut off in the midst of their days, and frequently
" suffered greater adversities than the most profligate
" sinners. The Jews therefore have constantly believed
" that it had a respect to the life to come. When the
" lawyer in the Gospel had made that most important
" demand, Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal
" life \ ? our blessed Lord refers him to what was written
" in the Law ; and, upon his making a sound and judicious
"answer, approves ot it; and for satisfaction to his
" question tells him, This do, and thou shalt live." The
objection is very ingenious ; and, as we shall see, not less
artfully managed.
The objector would have the promise of life in Levitl-
cus to signify eternal life. But St. Paul himself has
long ago moderated this question for us, and declared
for the negative. A dispute arose between him, and the
* -Levit. xviii.5. - t kuke x . 75,
y 4 Judaizing
32S REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
Judaizing Christians, concerning what it was that just i-
fcd before God, or entitled to that eternal life brought to
light by the Gospel. They held it to be the works of the
Law (believing, perhaps, as the objector assures MS they
did, that this text, in Leviticus, had a respect to the lije
to came) : St. Paul, on tiie contrary, that it was Jaith in
Jesus the Messiah. And thus lie argues. " But that no
" man is justified by the Law in the sight of God it is
"evident; for, the just shall live by Jaith. And the
" Law is not of faith : but the man that doth them shall
" live in them*." As much as to say That no man,
can obtain eternal life by virtue of the Law is evident
from one of your own prophets \Hab.~\ who expressly
says, that the just shall LIVE by FAITH f. Now, by the
Law, no rewards are promised to faith, but to works
only.* The man that DOTH them (says the Law, in
Levit.ty shall live in them, Here then we see that this
very te.vt which the objector brings to prove eternal life
by the Law, St. Paul urges, to prove it not by the Laic.
Let us attend to the apostle s argument. He is to shew,
that justification, or eternal lij e, is by faith. This he
does, even on the concession of a Jew, the prophet
Habakkuk; who expressly owns it to be by Jaith. But
the Law, says the apostle, attributes nothing to faith ;
but, to deeds only, " which if a man do he shall live in
them." Now, if, by life, be here meant, as the objec
tor supposes, eternal lije, then St Pa-id s argument docs
not come out as he intended it ; namely, that faith and
not the works of the Lawjustijy ; but thus, \.\\&tbothjaitk
and the works of the JMW justify, which would have
satisfied these Judaizers, (as reconciling, on their own
prejudices, Moses and Hahakkuk}; but, by no means,
our apostle ; whose conclusion on this question (where
discussed at large, in his epistle to the Romans) is, that
a man is justified by faith WITHOUT the deeds of the
Law^. Ihe very drift of iiis argument therefore shews
us, that he nmst necessarily understand the lije, promised
in this text of Leviticus, to be TEMPORAL lye only. But
charitably studious, as it were, to prevent all possible
chance of our mistaking him on so important a point,
* Gcil. iii. II, 12. t Ch.ii.4.
J Ch.xviii. 5. Kora.iii.28.
Postscript] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS.
he immediately subjoins, Christ hath redeemed us from
the curxe of the Law*. Now we know that our redemp
tion by Christ was from that death which the first man
brought into the world : this was the curse he entailed
upon his posterity. The apostle s transferring this term
from Adam to the Law shews, therefore, that, in his
sentiments, the Law had no more a share in the redemp
tion of fallen man than Adam himself had. Yet it is
certain, that if the Law, when it said. He who kt&ps
these statutes ami judgments shall live in them, meant for
ever, it proposed the redemption of mankind as certainly
as the blessed Jesus himself did, when he said, He that
believeth in me shall have everlasting life. This becomes
demonstrably F clear if St. Paul s reasoning will hold, who
surely had heard nothing of this prerogative of the Law,
when he said, If there had been a LAW given which
could have given life, verily righteousness should hatfe
been by the Law. Where observe, I pray you, the force
of the word woTroi?<ri, which signifies to quicken, or to
make alive ; plainly intimating the same he had said in
the place before quoted, that those in subjection to the
Law were under a curse, or in the state of death. Let
me add only this further observation, that if (as the
objector pretends; by life, in the text of Levit. be meant
eternal life ; and if (as the apostle pretends) by life in
the text of Habakkuk he meant eternal lije : then will
Moses and Habakkuk be made directly to contradict one
another ; the first giving eternal life to works ; the latter,
toja/t/t.
iJut the objector would insinuate, that Jesus himself
seems to have fixed this sense to the text in Leviticus \
at least that he has plainly inferred, that eternal life was
taught, if not obtained by the Law. "When the lawyer
" in the Gospel (says he) had made that most important
" demand, Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal
" life f ? our blessed Lord refers him to what was written
:< in the Law, and upon his making a sound and judicious
"answer, approves of it; and for satisfaction to his
" question, tells him, This do and thou shalt live." *
Would not any one now conclude from the sense here
put upon the words of Jesus, that the sound and judicious
* Gal, iii. 13. f Luke x. 25.
answer
330 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
Knxtccr of the lawyer must have been a quotation of the
text in Leritkm, or at least some general promise made
to the observers of .the whole Law of Moses ? Nothing
like it. On the contrary, the .lawyer s answer -was a
quotation of only one- precept of the Law, Thou shah
lore the Lcrd thy God, with all thy heart, &c. and thy
neighbour as thy self. Now how much soever we may
ilifter about a future life s being held out by the Law
through a Messiah that was to come, I suppose we are
both agreed that faith in the M email., either actual or
imputed, is necessary to obtain this future life. There
are but two ways then of understanding this text of
St. Luke, neither of which is to his purpose. The first
is supposing Jesus included faith in himself in this pre
cept of loving God with all the heart, &c. which w ill
appear no forced interpretation to him who holds Jesus
to be really and truly God; as I suppose we both do ;
and may be supported by a circumstance in the story, as
told by St. Matthew *, though omitted by St. Luke, which
is Jesus s saying, that on these two commandments hang
all the Laic and the PROPHETS. The second and exacter
interpretation is, that Jesus spoke to a professing fol
lower, who pretended to acknowledge his mission, and
wanted only a rule rf life. For Jesus is here preaching
the Gospel to his disciples* and a lawyer stood up ami
tempted him, that is, on the false fooling of a disciple
required a rule of life. Now in either case, this reference,
of Jesus to the Law must imply this, and this only, that
without righteousness am! holiness no man shall see the
Lord. A point in which, I suppose, we are agreed
Ikit stiil the objector will, say that these words of Jesus.
allude to the words of Ahses. Admit they do. It will
not follow, as he seems to think, that they were given to
t >r plain them. How many allusions are there in the ^ w
Testament to passages in the Old, accommodated to a
spiritual sense, where the texts alluded to are seen, by
all but Fanatics, to have only a carnal? And even irt
this very allusion, if it be one, we find that the promise
made to the observers of the whole Law is transferred
to the observance of one single precept in the moral part
of it but let us grant him all he would have; and
* Matt, xx ii. 40.
admit
Postscript.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 331
admit that these words of Jesus were given to explain the
words of Aloses. W hat would loilovv irom thence, but
that the promise in Leviticus was prophetical, and had a
secondary sense, of a spiritual and sublimer import?
Will ihis give any advantage to our adversaries ? purely
none at all. And yet the abuse of this concession is all
they have for it, to support their systems. Thus the
reader has seen how the Examiner of the second Proposi
tion triumphs on my assertion, that the later Jews exco
gitated the doctrine of the resurrection from the pro
phetic language of former ages; and asks (with an
ignorance excusable only in a savage to his catecbisl) how
these Jews came to be more quick-sighted than those
contemporary with the prophets ? I had in vain endea
voured to teach him that a carnal and a spiritual sense
(both of which, we are agreed, the Law had, in order to
fit God s word to the use of two dispensations) implied
an ignorance of the spiritual sense during the first of
them. But my word ought to go for nothing, in this
case, when unsupported by Scripture. Let us hear then
what the apostles themselves say to this matter : who, in
order to shew the superior excellence of the Gospel, in
their reasoning against Jews and Judaizing Christians,
set the Law in contrast to it, under the titles of the law
of a carnal commandment ; the ministration of death ;
the law cf works : and call subjection to it, subjection
to the flesh. Yet these very writers at the same time
own that the Law was SPIRITUAL, or had a spiritual
sense. But if by this they meant, that that sense was
generally understood during the Law dispensation, their
whole argument had ended in the highest futility. i ; or
then it was not a law of a carnal commandment, a
ministration of death ; but, indeed a law of the spi
rit, a ministration of life; only under a dead and
carnal cover ; whiqh, being clearly seen through, was no-
other than a foil to set it the better off: and consequently
was of equal dignity, and, though not of equal simplicity,
yet, indeed, essentially the same with the Gospel. Thus
we see into how high a degree of contempt with unbe
lievers, these principles of my adversaries would naturally
bring the holy apostles, did not those admirable rea-
poners take care themselves to guard against so horrid
a perversioa
33* REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
a perversion of their meaning. They owned, \ve see,
that the Law had a .spiritual .sense: but when, and by
whom discovered, the apostle Paul informs us, by calling
that sense the NEWNESS OF SPITIT *; which he opposes
to the oldness of the letter, that is, the letter of the
Laic. In the former part of the verse, he speaks of the
Law being dead ; and, here, of its being revived again
with a new .spirit, in contradistinction to the oldness of
the letter. So true was it, what, in another place, he
observes, that the Laic was a SHADOW of things to conic \
but the BODY was oj Christ^. The shadow not of a
body then to be seen or understood, as our adversaries
imagine, but of a body that was to come, and, by its
presence, explain the meaning and reason of the shadow*
Tor the Jews being, as the apostle says, in bondage under
the elements of the world^, were as men shut up in
prison, with their faces kept turned from the light,
towards the whited wall of ceremonies : on which indeed
they saw many .shadows ; but the body or opposite sub
stance at their backs, to which they could not turn, they
saw not. And in this state, says the same apostle, they
were kept shut up unto thejaiih, which should afterwards
he. revealed^. Till that time, therefore, it appears that
the body of the Jews had no knowledge oi this faith ;
one of tire essential articles of which is life everlasting.
This we must needs have concluded, even though lie had
1 Sfiiil that till that time they we.re in bondage under the
r/r . ihc we. id. A proj>er character truly of a
|>coplo iM-nuaiiitC d with the revealed doctrine of life and
]<ut, as the epistk to the Hebrews, is so much insisted
on bv mv adversaries, I shall, in the last place, produce
a text <;r two from it, sufficient alone to determine the
. it rove-rsy between us; and to justify what I said ot it
Sn the Divine Legation, tiuit in this cpitftc there are
more, express declarations that life and immortality wan
iwt taught by mr known under V/?c L<iw, than in all the
Wfier foW& of (lie New le*! annul. For which indeed
->ry good "reason may he given ; as it was addressed
"solely k> the .Afrr.v ; amongst whom tliis fatal prejudice,
"aj nture state was taught by the Law, was then, and
um. vii. 6. t ^1- "- 1 1* + Ga *- iv - 3 - Ga]> ! " 23
lias
Postscript.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 333
has continued ever since, to be the strongest impediment
to their conversion. But to come to the point The
inspired writer, in the second chapter and second verse,
hath these remarkable words, For if the word spoken by
angels was stedfast, and every twjnsgtressidtl find dhobc-
d tence received a just recompenceoj reward; how tkyUwc
escape, &c. By the word spoken by angels every one
.knows is meant the Law delivered to Moses by them for
his people : so that here is an express declaration,
1. That the sanctions of this Law were of a temporal
kind. He then goes on, verse the fifth, For unto the
angels hath he not put in subjection the world to come,
whereof we speak. And this is as express a declaration,
2. That the Law taught no future state. Thus far then
we are got. Let us next attend to the fourteenth and
fifteenth verses ; he [Christ] also himself likewise took
part of the same [flesh and blood \\that through death
he might destroy him that had the power of death, that
is, the devil , and deliver them who through fear of
death were all their lifetime subject to bondage. The
devil is here said to have the power of death, as he
brought it in by the delusion of the Jirst man ; therefore,
before death can be abolished, he must be destroyed.
J3ut his destruction is the work of the second man.
Till then, we infer from hence, that death reigned under
the devil. But this is not all ; we are expressly told,
that the Jews, all their lifetime, were through fear of
death subject to bondage. Which certainly can imply
no other than, 3. That thei/ had no future state to secure
them from this fear. See here then, for a conclusion, the
principle of the Divine Legation justified on the plainest
and most consequential reasoning of the holy apostle.
But now, say these men, if the early Jews had nq
knowledge of a future state, the chosen people of God
were in a much worse condition than the Gentiles, who
all had it. To this purpose let us hear our anony
mous Examiner, who has not only spoken the full sense
of his party, but has urged it too with a candour peculiar
to himself.
You consider (says he) the ignorance of the Jews
" ats to the doctrine of a future state, as one of tlte most
" momentous truths that religion has to boast of. I, on
"the
334 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Parti.
" the other hand, look upon it as a DISGRACE to Reve-
" 1 uion ; us, by the very act of God himself, it shuts out
" his own chosen people, for many ages, from that single
* point of knowledge, which could be the foundation of
" a reasonable worship; while by the directions of his pro-
" vidence, nil the uoild heeidea were permitted to have
" the benefit of it." pp. 131, 132.
He says, He looks upat -nc, jut arc state amongst the
Je\\ s as // disgrace to Rc Citatkn. Why so? Because by
the very act of God himwlj It shut out his own chosen
people, <MC. bare he has forgot what lie so oit told his-
reader, that IMuses taught not, nor had it in his com
mission to teach, a future state to the Israelites : other-
xvise he would have seen that this, alone, went a great
\vay to\vards shutting out the chosen people. And if they
were let in at all, it certainly was not by this prophet of
God. Consequently, if the holding, that God shut them
out, be disgraceful to Revelation, this very orthodox
gentleman, we see, is got as deep in the mire as the
Author of the Divine Legation. In truth, I pity the
poor man, who thus, at every step, brings himself into
these distresses: and all, from a false modesty. He was
ashamed of the absurdity of his party, in holding that
Closes taught, or ought to have taught, a future slate ;
and therefore, at this turn, leaves them in the lurch, and
takes up the better principle of his adversary, that J\Ioses
had no commission to teach it : for he must have been
dull indeed not to have collected that this was his adver
sary s principle, after he had seen him write a book to
prove \\}%k Moses did not teach it. And be not offended,
good Sir, that I call this a false modesty ; for what is it
else, to he shocked with one absurdity in your party, and
yet to defend all the rest? Whose only plausible sup
port, too, happens to be in that one which you reject,
Indeed, indeed, my kind friend,
Pudor te mains urget,
Insanos qui inter vcrcare insanus haberi.
But the cause, though not the Advocate, demands a
serious confutation. And as the only support of it,
against the argument of the Divine Legation, |ies in
these calumnious appeals to vulgar prejudices; which
our
Postscript.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 335
our Anonymous, in the passage above, has inforced with
his heartiest malice; I will here, once for all, examine,
their pretensions : and so as they shall never henceforward
be considered, in the learned world at least, as any other
than mere vulgar prejudices.
To begin then with the subject of thejlrst proposition,
That God shut out the Israeites from the knowledge of
a future state ; which (in the case given) is throwing that
upon God for which man only is accountable. The
Israelites were indeed shut out ; yet, not as he dreams,
by the very act of God himself , but, if he will have the
truth who never seeks it as he ought, by the -very act of
their forefather, Adam. It was the -first man who shut
them out : and the door of Paradise was never opened
again till the coming of the second man, the Lord from
Heaven. But this, I own, is answering him in a strange
language ; the language of Scripture. A language his
systems will never enable him to understand. But more
of this secret, for such, I find, it is to our Examiner, in
my next volume.
But, to shew what infinite loss they sustained in this
exclusion, he goes on, and says, that a future state is the
single point of knowledge which can be the foundation of a
reasonable worship. Here, doctors differ. St. PAUL places
the foundation of a reasonable worship in another thing.
He saith, that HE THAT COMETH TO GOD MUST BELIEVE
THAT HE IS, AND THAT HE IS A REWARDER. OF THEM
THAT DILIGENTLY SEEK HIM *. Whatis man s purpose
in coming to God ? Why, certainly, to worship him. And
what doth the apostle tell us is the true, ihc reasonable
foundation of this worship ? Why, to believe that he is,
and that he is a rewarder of them that seek him. What
becomes then of our Examuiers only foundation of a
reasonable worship ? The apostle, we see, places it in
the nature, and not (as our Ex&mbter) in the inessential
circumstances, of reward : consequently a reward given
here, was as true a foundation of reasonable worship to
the early Jews, living under an extraordinary providence,
as a reward given hereafter is to us Christians, living
under an ordinary one : and consequently our Examiner
must have been mistaken, when he made a FUTURE
* Jleb.xi.ti. -
^ - STATE
336 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
STATE the single pomt of knowledge which can be tli$
foundation of a reasonable worship. But does not
common sense say the same thing?
For, to come a little closer to this formidable man,
now I have got an apostle on my side ; I will a da take
,to demonstrate (how much soever he dislikes the word)
that a i-UTURE STATE is so far i.om I -L-iiur the only
foundation of a reasonable wo; ship, that, while God z>
Jjelieredthe rewardcr of them that diligent /// seek him
,(and that is the case of a people under an extraordinary
providence) --the ignorance <>/ a future stale neither affects
pitty nor morality, the two things which constitute a
reasonable worsjiip, and perfect mankind in virtue.
Not piety, because tliat (in the case given) Depends
solely on the belief tliat God is.
Not morality, because that depends solely on the
knowledge of what God commands.
And this, which right reason teaches, the Law of
Moses has promulgcd. We. are commanded ; to lore God
for his sake, that is, for the excellence of his nature, the
anost lovely of all objects. -We are commanded to lore
our neighbour ; and the prescribed measure, as our
$dves, points to the equity of the command ; for, being
all .equal by nature, we should have but one rule of
Acting, for ourselves and others. This is resolvable into
the natural relations of things ; and those relations are
the declarations of God s will, the pnly true foundation
of morality ; and, as such, perpetually inforced by the
JLaw qf Moses. Thus firmly established are the duties
of the first and second table. Now, on the lore of Gocl
and of our neighbour Jtang all the law and the prophets.
That these therefore should not be able at the same time
to support a reasonable, worship, when, to all this Mosaic
enforcement of the belief that God is, it is added, that he
is an exact rewcu der of them that diligently seek him,
.would be a very hard case indeed ; especially if we con
sider, that, to our corrupt .nature, it is not the immea-
purable reward at distance, but that which is present, and
understood by us, that most forcibly attracts us. And
this it was, which the Law of Moses held out.
In a word then, since pure virtue, under wliich
term I comprise piety .and morality, consists in acting
agreeably
Postscript.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 337
agreeably to those relations in which \ve stand to all
beings whatsoever ; is it possible there can be any more
forcible inducement to our reasonable culture for the prac
tice of it, than that which is proposed by the Law of
Moses, namely, that God commands it out of our love
and fear and duty towards him ? Or any more forcible
inducement to our corrupt nature, than that every work
shall receive its full recompence of reward, through the
administration of an extraordinary providence ? How
then is it possible that a long, or short duration, the
rewards of this, or of another life, should in the least
essentially affect the purity, or integrity of human virtue,
so taught and recommended ; that is, a reasonable wor
ship, in the spirit of piety, and truth of morality ?
To suppose that virtue cannot be pure and perfect but
when forced upon men by the immensity of punishment,
is having no better an idea of it than the Pagan slave in
the Poet,
Sum bonus acfrugi: renuit negitatque Sabellus.
Indeed, in the ordinary distribution of things, where the
rewards and punishments of religion lie at distance,
I believe nothing less than the promises and terrors of
the Christian would be, generally, sufficient to support
the practice it enjoins. But here too, it is still the love
and fear of God, not of reward and punishment, that are
held out to us, to perfect and sublime our virtue ; though
the others likewise be laid before us to raise and
quicken it.
But here, let me not be again misunderstood, as I have
been once already, by this super-subtile Examiner. I
deny indeed that the want of a future state in the Jewish
religion, under an extraordinary providence, could at all
affect the truth and purity of human virtue, as there
founded and enforced : yet, at the same time, I am very
far from denying but that other things did hinder that
religion from being perfect. Nay, in my Address to the
Jews, prefixed to the second * volume of The Divine
Legation, I have shewn what these things were: as,
first, the whole turn of their ritual law : and, secondly,
* See vol. iv. p. 13. of this Edit,
VOL. XL Z the
338 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
the want of a future state umkr the ordinary and common
providence of mankind. For I am there applying, to
these mistaken people, a view of Moses s religion as it
appears under their present condition, in order to con
vince them of the necessity of having its imperfection
supplied by the religion of Jems; in which, I suppose,
all Christians are agreed. At least, as many as are out
of the thick darkness of controversy will see these to be
very different and distinct positions. The one saying,
that their virtue might be pure and perfect, during the
times of an extraordinary providence, for any thing that
the ignorance of a future state could affect to the con
trary. The other, that a religion without a future state,
on the supposition of its being to serve J or all times, must
be very imperfect.
I might now expect, after so full a confutation of this
erroneous opinion, concerning the foundation of a reason
able worship, that our Examiner should blush for his
rashness in asserting, that the ignorance of the Jews
concerning a future state is a DISGRACE to Revelation.
An expression, which, were there but a chance of his
being wrong, a sober divine would carefully have avoided ;
as altogether unsuitable to that reverence we owe to God,
while measuring his tremendous providence by our
scanty and uncertain ideas of fit and right. I might
say, indeed, that the Jews ignorance of a future state
was a truth of so high importance, that, from thence,
could be demonstrated the divinity of their dispensation ;
and, I presume, without offence to any sober man;
because, if I were mistaken, no injury was done to Re
velation ; I left it whole and entire, just as I took it up.
But should the Examiner be mistaken, his calling this
ignorance a DISGRACE TO REVELATION would be
affording such an handle to the enemies of religion to
blaspheme, as he should tremble to think of.
But, if I know him well, he is not a writer of retrac
tations. He has another reason for calling it a disgrace
to Revelation. For, // shuts up (he says)- God s own
chosen people from a fut ure state, while by the directions
of his providence all the world besides were permitted to
have the benefit of it. And now, good people, you have
it
Postscript] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 339
it all : and if this will not move you, why The Author
of The Divine Legation, for anything I see, may go on.
This second proposition we see is, that (in the case
given) " all the Pagan world were by the divine Provi-
" dence permitted to enjoy a bexejit which was denied to
".the Jews." Examining the predicate of this propo
sition, we shall first consider the PERMISSION, and tiien
the BENEFIT.
All the world besides, says he, were permitted. By
what instrument ? By the use of their reason. And had
not the Jews the use of theirs ? Not the free use : for
their prophet delivering to them, from God, a new law
and religion, in which the doctrine of a future state was
not found, this would naturally lead them to conclude
against it. What, in defiance of all the deductions of
reason, which, from God s demonstrable attributes of
goodness and justice, made the Pagan world conclude,
that, as moral good and evil had not their retribution here,
they would have it hereafter ? Yes indeed, so we find it
was. Strange! that this Moses should have such an
influence over a people s understanding ! Why, if you
will have it, he promised that good and evil should have
their retribution here. Aye, now the secret is out. Well,
indeed, might this shut them up from looking further ;
especially if (as yu pretend to believe) he not only pro
mised, but performed, likewise. See then to what this
PERMISSION amounts, so invidiously urged, not against
me, for that is nothing, but against the Scriptures of
God. Just to thus much, " That all the world besides
" were permitted to find out, by reason, what his own
" chosen people were taught, by the practical demon-
" station of an extraordinary providence-, namely, that
" God would act with justice and goodness towards
" man."
Come we now to the benefit. The benefit of the doc
trine of a future state is twofold. To society as such,
as it is a curb to vice by supporting the belief of a Pro
vidence, under the unequal distribution of things : and
to religion as such, as it is an incentive to virtue, by
shewing the rate set upon it. The doctrine of a future
state, in the Pagan world, afforded indeed that benefit to
i 2 society*
340 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I.
society : but then, that benefit the Jewish state did not
want, as being under an equal distribution of things.
Benefit to religion, their doctrine of a future state
afforded none. It was overrun with superstitions ; and
generally gave the rewards of another life, not to moral
but to ritual observances. And when not so, as in the
open teaching of the mysteries, yet even there the se
verest punishments in the Pagan hell were allotted to the
Atheists, or the rejectors of the vulgar Polytht&m ;
which, not only utterly depraved religion, but riveted
men in its depravity. So that, in the sense of our
Examiner (\\ ho is here speaking of the benefit of a future
state to religion, as such}, this future state of all the
world besides was indeed no benefit at all. But he will
say, I have shewn, that the efoifffl* of the mysteries
removed these errors. It is true, I have. But, at the
same time, likewise, that these were revealed to very
few. And, to set matters even, has not he shewn from
Bishop Bull, (p. 123) that the hidden mysteries of the
Law were opened to fit hearers, wherever they were
found? though, from the total silence of a future state,
in the old Jewish history, I suspect, these were still fewer.
Which opinion I will be ready to retract, when he shall
shew me, in the Jewish antiquities, as plain intimations
of a future state, amongst the hidden mysteries of the
Law, as I have shewn him in the Grecian, of the doctrine
of the Unity > and the detection of vulgar Polytheism
amongst the mysteries of Paganism. But had a future
state afforded the Pagans never so much benefit to
religion as such : yet neither this did the Jewish people
want, and for the same reason as above, because they
were under an extraordinary providence. And now let
us see to what the BENEFIT amounts.
The Pagans had a future state to support their so
ciety and religion.
But then, so circumstanced, that it was of service to
society only, although both wanted it.
The Jews had no future state to support their society
and religion.
But then, neither wanted it,
3
Postscript] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 341
And now, I pray you, on which side lies the balance
of the benefit? We commonly hear it said, that seeing
is believing : but I suspect our Examiner has been im
posed on by a very different aphorism, as absurd in the
thought as the other is in the expression, that believing is
having, a principle not unworthy of his school. Else how
comes he to place so great a benefit in the point in ques
tion, if he did not suppose that the Jews want of the
doctrine deprived them of the thing ?
But have I not been reckoning all this time without my
host, while I argued against these silly prejudices, upon
the confession of an extraordinary providence? For,
disputing here with Christian men, I have supposed that
they believed such a dispensation. And prudent was it
in rne so to do. For had I been called upon to prove
my supposition, I do not know whether what I could say
would have satisfied the judicious reader, who had
observed that all the arguments they use against me
receive the little force they have on a contrary supposi
tion. And even this private Letter-writer, one of the
most candid of his kind, had still a reason in reserve, to
prove why the promise of life, in his favourite text of
Leviticus, must needs mean eternal life, and not temporal
only, which looks very much that way; it is, because the
best men (he says) were often cut off in the midst of their
days, and frequently suffered greater adversities than
the most profligate sinners. Who now that had even a
rnind to let us see he believed nothing of the matter,
could have expressed his meaning in stronger or more
significant terms ? I am not ashamed to confess I read
my Bible ; and believed what it told me of this extraor
dinary providence ; and, in the simplicity of my heart,
would needs try if I could make the Deist believe too.
I found it was this that most revolted him : and therefore
undertook to prove, from the very constitution of their
economy, that the representation must needs be true, and
so, while I was removing his objections to Revelation,
give him a demonstration of its truth. In the mean
time, I little suspected that a set of men, who call
themselves Believers, would, for the sake only of com
bating the medium of my demonstration, ever venture to
z 3 call
342 REMARKS, &c. [Part I.
call in question that very fact for which I was contending
with their adversaries ; and in a way thur adversaries
(except it were perhaps Splnosa and his uv.m Totand] bad
never attempted, namely, by a virtual denial oi the repre
sentation . If this was to be contested me, I could have
wished, for thy honour of Revelation, it had bren done
by the professed enemies of it: and then i could have
exposed their prevarication without much re-ret. As ft
is, I rather chuse to draw a veil over this lyirn.thj <;f iti-e.
jltsh\ AND WAIT FOR the renewal of a rig/a spirit
within them.
END OF THE FIRST
REMARKS
ON
SEVERAL OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS;
IN ANSWER TO THE
REV. DRS. STEBBING & SYKES:
Serving to explain and justify the two Dissertations in
THE DIVINE LEGATION,"
CONCERNING
THE COMMAND TO ABRAHAM TO OFFER UP HIS SON,
AND
THE NATURE OF THE JEWISH THEOCRACY;
Objected to by those Learned Writers.
. . _ . Arcades arnbo,
Et cantare pares, et BESPOXDERE paralL Vine,
PART II. and Last.
Quid imrnerentes hospites vexas, Canis,
Ignavus adversuin Lupos ?
Nam, qualis aut Molossus, aut fulvus Lacon,
AMIGA vis PASTORIEUS,
Again per altas aure sublata nives,
Quascunque prascedet Fera.
Tu quum timenda voce complcsti K emus,
Projectum odoraris CJBUM. If or.
PREFACE
TO
REMARKS ON OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS ;
PART IT.
THE two SUBJECTS here debated will deserve the
attention of every serious Believer ; especially, those of
my own Order. For the sake of such, I shall just
hazard a few observations, which I thought rather too
good to be thrown away upon those whom the following
sheets more immediately concerned.
I. The Reader finds here, what the learned Dr. Steb-
b mg has been able to object to my interpretation of the
COMMAND TO ABRAHAM: Which, I presume, when
fairly attended to, will be no light confirmation of its
truth. But, as I have no notions to advance, not founded
in a sincere desire to demonstrate the divinity of our
holy religion, I would by no means take the advantage
of a weak Adversary, to recommend them to the public
acceptance. 1 hold it not honest, therefore, to conceal
an objection to my interpretation, by far more plausible
than any that zealous Gentleman has urged against it ;
which is this, " That it is difficult to conceive how a
" circumstance of so much importance to Revelation,
11 as the removing one of the strongest infidel objections
" against its truth, and proving a real connexion between
" the two dispensations of it, should never be. clearly
u explained and insisted on by the Writers of the New
1 Testament, though the Historian of the Old might
" have had sufficient reasons for concealing it." To
which I beg leave to reply, that it is very certain,
that many truths of great importance, for the support of
religion against infidelity, were taught by Jems to his
disciples (amongst which, I reckop this interpretation to
346 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II.
be one) which never came down, by their conveyance, to
the church. But being, by the assistance of God s Holy
Spirit, discoverable by those who devote themselves to
the study of the Scriptures with a pure mind, have, for
the wise ends of Providence, inscrutable to us, been left
for the industry of man to find out, that, as occasion
required, every age might supply new evidence of God s
truth, to put to silence the ignorance of foolish men: and
that, in proportion as the power of darkness thickened,
so might the splendour of the Gospel light ; that light
ithich was ordained, at last, entirely to disperse it. In
support of what is here said, I beg the reader to reflect
on what is told us by the Evangelist, of the conversation
between Jesus (after his resurrection) and the two dis
ciples journeying to Emmaus ; where their Master says
unto them, O fools, and slow of heart to believe all
that the prophets have spoken ! Ought not Christ to
have suffered these things, and to enter into his glory ?
And beginning at Moses, ami all the prophet s> he e,v-
pounded unto them t/ie things concerning himself*. Now
who can doubt but that many things were here revealed,
which would have greatly contributed to the demonstra*
tiori of the Gospel truth ? Yet hath it pleased Provi
dence that this discourse should never be recorded. But
that the apostles used, and made a good use too, of
those instructions, we have the plainest evidence from
their amazing success in the conversion of the world, by
this application of the writings of Moses and the prophets.
And if I be not greatly deceived, amongst truths intbrceel
on those occasions, that, which I presume to have dis
covered in the Command to Abraham, was not forgotten.
Let the unprejudiced reader judge. St. Paul, making
his apology before king Agrippa, recapitulates his defence
in these words : Having therefore obtained help of God.,
I continue, unto this day witnessing both to small and
great, saying none other things than those which the
"prophets, and MOSES, DID SAY SHOULD COME: that
Christ should wj/cr, and that he should be the first that
should rise Jrom the dead-\. The Greek is rather
stronger, in predicating this circumstance of Moses 2i>
si o &rpc(vTy,i iXaAtiVxv AXovJw* /WcrGai KAI
* St, Luke xxiv. 26 , 27. t Acts xxvi. 22, 23.
Now
Pref.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 347
Now where, let me ask, in all his writings, except in the
Command to Abraham, is there the least trace of any
such circumstance, as that Christ should suffer, and that
ht should bt the, first that should rise from the dead?
Or in that command either, if not understood according
to our interpretation ?
But further, as the apostles did not convey several
illustrious truths taught them by their Master to the
churches which they founded : so neither (and doubtless
for the same wise ends of Providence) did the churches
convey down to posterity several truths revealed to them
by the apostles. An instance of which we have in St.
Paul s second Epistle to the Thessalonians,\v\ieve, speak
ing of Antichrist, or the Man of Sin, he reminds the
church of what it was he told them yet let or hindered
his coming Remember ye not, that, when I was yet
with you, I told you these things ? And now you know,
what mthholdeth that he might be revealed in his time.
But the knowledge of this let or hindrance the Church of
God hath long lost. And yet it is a matter of very high
concernment. I . have ever thought, the prophecies re
lating to Antichrist, interspersed up and down the New
and Old Testament, the most convincing proof of the
truth of the Christian religion that any moral matter is
capable of receiving. That a Roman power is meant,
is so exceeding evident, that it is that point in which all
parties are agreed. But to fix it to the individual power
(a determination highly interesting both the truth and
purity of religion) it must first be known whether the
power spoken of be civil or ecclesiastical. Protestants,
in general, think they see all the marks of the latter.
The Catholics, as they are called, contend of necessity
for the former : and they have many great names even
among us on their side (by what odd concurrence of
circumstances, may be considered in another place).
This has long embarrasssed a question, on the right
determination of which alone, I am fully persuaded, one
might rest the whole truth of the Christian cause. Now
the knowledge of what it was that let or hindered the
appearance of Antichrist, which St. Paul communicated
to the church of Thessalonica, would at once determine
the question. But this is the state in which it hath
pleased
34$ REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II.
pleased Providence to place the Church of Christ : with
abundant evidence to support itself against infidelity ;
yet so much left to be discovered as may rightly exercise
the faith and industry of all humble and sober adorers of
the Cross. Which however shews it was not the intent of
Providence that one of these virtues should thrive at the
cxpence of the other. Therefore when my learned
Adversary*, in order, I will believe, to advance Chris
tian faith, would discourage Christian industry, by calum
niating, and rendering suspected, what he is pleased to
call EXPERIMENTS in religion, it is, I am afraid, at best,
but a zeal without knowledge. Indeed, if men will come
to this study with unwashed hands , that is, without a due
reverence of the dignity of these sacred volumes ; or,
what is as ill in the other extreme, with wipurged head*,
that is, stuffed full of systems, or made giddy by enthu
siasm, it is not unreasonable to expect the success which
Dr. S&btirtg pretends to have observed. Ikit then, let
him keep his advice for those whom it concern;-.
If. The oilier subject debated in this pamphlet is of
the THEOCRACY of the Jczcx. Having undertaken to
prove the divinity of the Mosaic religion from the actual
administration of an extraordinary providence over that
state in general, and over private men in particular, by
the medium of the omission of a future state of rewards
and punishments in their economy ; what I had to do
was to shew from Scripture, that such a dispensation of
Providence was there represented to have been admini
stered. This I did two ways, from the nature of the
thing; and from the express words of Scripture. Under
the "first head, I shewed f that, from the nature of a
theocracy, it necessarily followed, by as plain an induc
tion as that protection follows obedience to the civil
magistrate, that there must be an extraordinary provi
dence over the state in general, and over all the members
of it in particular. And that though a theocracy were
only pretended, yet, if the institutes of it knew the
meaning of his own contrivance, he must, of course,
pretend this extraordinary providence likewise. In sup
port of which last observation I have shewn j, in the
* Dr. Stebbing.
Divine Legation and in this Pamphlet
second
Both in The Divine Legation and in this Pamphlet.
Pref.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 349
second place, that such a dispensation of Providence is
actually, and in express words of Scripture, said to be
administered. After tins, what has an unbeliever to do (for
it is hard to think how any other should have any thing to do
in it) who would invalidate this representation, but either
to deny that the Jewish form of government was theo-
cratical, and, by that means, endeavour to deprive me of
the jirst of my proofs, from the nature of the thing : or
to allow this pretended theocracy, yet shew from fact, by
Scripture history, that such a dispensation of Providence
was not administered ; which would subvert both rny
proofs. And this sure none but an unbeliever could
deliberately do, because it argues Moses of imposture*
For if an extraordinary providence to the state and to
particulars necessarily follows a theocracy, and yet such
a providence was not actually administered, then this
theocracy was not real, but pretended only. Now
Dr. Sykes has undertaken to prove that the extraordinary
dispensation of Providence did not extend to particulars,
In this I blame him not. Every man must think for
himself; and the objection is fairly urged. But what
creates my wonder is, that when, contrary to common
sense and common Scripture, he pretends to admit an
extraordinary providence to the state in consequence of
a theocracy, while he opposes that to particulars, he
should yet think to pass upon his reader for an advocate
of the Bible. If he sees the- thing in the light here
stated, what an opinion must he have of the Public !
If he sees it not, what an opinion must the Public have
of him! But let him debate this point with himself at
leisure. All the advantage I have taken of his bad
o
reasoning, is not to discover, nor consequently to dis
credit, his opinions ; but merely to support my own.
III. In the last place, it may be permitted me to
observe, that these two learned Doctors, who imagine,
that all the time they have been writing against me, they
were opposing the conclusion of The Divine Legation,
have, indeed, allowed all I wanted to make my argument
demonstrative : Dr. Stebbing, by owning that Moses did
not teach, nor had it in commission to teach, a future
state of rewards and punishments ; and Dr. Sykes,
by owning that an extraordinary providence teas
administered
350 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Pref.
administered over the Jewish state and people in general
If it be asked, then, why I would clog my argument, by
insisting on the Jewish peoples ignorance in general of a
future state, and the administration of an extraordinary
providence to particulars ; I reply, it was on the same
principle that Moses closed his institution with a theo
cracy. He did it in obedience to the Divine command ;
and I, out of rny observance to truth. But had he been
of that species of lawgivers in which Dr. Sykcs seems to
rank him, I conclude he would not have unnecessarily
instituted a form of government that must, at every step,
have detected his imposture. And had I wrote to
advance my own notions, the equitable reader will con
clude I should never have given so many needless provo
cations to this testy race of ANSWERERS.
April 14, 1745.
Part II.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 35*
R E M A R K S,
4*
PART II.
THE curious reader of the many and various Answerers
of the Divine Legation (if any such there be) cannot
chuse but smile to see them so unanimously concur in
representing me as desperately enamoured of contro
versy, and resolute and determined for the last word ;
especially, when it is observed, that, of ten or twelve
very sizable books, written against it, I have taken notice
of a small part only of two or three. What their motives
were, in this representation, is neither worth mine, nor
the reader s while, to conjecture. The plain fact is, I
would willingly avoid all controversy, so far as is con
sistent with a regard to the Public ; to which I have
thought fit to appeal ; and, to which, consequently, I
have given a kind of right to expect, either an answer to
all material objections, or a confession of their force.
For such as these I have still waited ; and now find
I am likely to wait. In the mean time, I must either be
silent, or take up with what fortune sends. And who
could be long undetermined ? For he must be very fond
of controversy indeed, who would think of entering into
a serious dispute, either with him, who holds That natu
ral religion has not, and yet the law of Moses has, the
sanction of a future state of rewards and punishments * :
or with that other, who cannot see, and therefore, with
a modest boldness peculiar to the blind, affirms " there
" is not the least connexion between the two propositions,
"an extraordinary providence and the omimon of a
* An Essay on the Nature and Obligations of Virtue, byT. Ru-
therfortb, B. D. Fellow of St. John s College in Cambridge, and of
the Royal Society. Cambridge.
"future
352 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II.
"future state*." With the same quickness of sight,
I make no doubt he would affirm, that there is not the
least connexion between the old English honour, and the
long omission of a qualification law for members of the
House of Commons : and is therefore to be referred to
the class of those whom I send for an answer, to the
story of Eertrand and his reading glasses f .
But when, at present, no urgent occasion drove me to
trouble the reader in my own vindication, an inviting
* The Belief of a Future State proved to be a Fundamental Arti
cle of the Religion of the Hebrews, &c. By John Jackson, Rector
of Rosington, c. London. p. 64. Where the reader will see, that
all his objections, even to the very blunders, have been obviated or
answered by me long ago. An instance of this, as it now happens
to lie before me, will not be unentertaining. " As a future state
* (says he) may be demonstrably deduced from principles of
" natural reason, so IT is CONTAINED in the proposition laid down
" by St. Paul, He that comctk to God (as a worshipper of him) must
li believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder f those who diligently
ci seek him, Heb. xi. 6V p. 9- His argument requires him to mean
necessarily contained. But before that can be shewn, it must be
proved that God cannot, in this world, reward those who diligently
seek him, and he who should go about to prove that, would go near
to contradict all which Moses has said, in the sanction of his
law, " that God not only could, but would, reward those, in this
" world, who diligently seek him." But St. Paul knew what he
said, though this man does not. He knew the proposition did not
necessarily, but might, or might not, contain a future state, just as
the writer applied it : and he delivered it accordingly. First, As
he was an exact reasoner, because the support of religion depends
not on rewards here or hereafter-, but on the equal distribution of
them, wheresoever they are conferred. Secondly, he was a pertinent
reasoner, because he would include the sanction of the Mosaic as
well as Christian religion ; the first of which (as he tells us else
where) had the promise of the life that now is ; the other, of that
which is to come. This blunder, as the reader may remember, was
exposed in theflrst part of these Remarks, pp. 335, &c. But I would
recommend Mr. Jackson s whole pamphlet to his perusal, as a spe
cimen of that illustrious band, in which he has thought fit to inlist;
and which indeed would have been imperfect without this Answerer
General; who has all his life long opposed himself to whatever
received the public approbation : and after having written against
the Inquiry into the Nature of the Human Soul, does me too much
honour to bt; entirely overlooked. Which however, ic is probable
he had been, but for these words in his Title Page, The Doctrine
of the ancient Philosophers concerning a future State shewn to be CQJI-
s utent with Reason. A vile insinuation ! Intimating that I had
written something against the reasonableness of that doctrine.
t See p. 274 of this vol. Ed.
opportunity
Part II.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS, 353
opportunity offered itself, of revenging letters in general,
on their very worst and most relentless enemy, the AN
SWERER BY PROFESSION". Of whose trade happening
to speak with the contempt that it deserves, I was accused
by the dull malice of these Answerers themselves to
mean the gentlemen of the long-robe ; the most learned
as well as useful body in the state ; and, by far, the
most capable part of that public to whose lay-judgment
I had appealed : the only men who speak sense concern
ing MORAL OBLIGATION, and the best judges of truth,
by their knowledge of MORAL EVIDENCE : their habitual
acquaintance with its nature and with the proportioned
weight accompanying every varying degree of probability,
(a knowledge where reason is in its sovereignty) qualify
ing them to determine in all clear questions of religion.
But as the plainest description could not secure me
against so ridiculous a calumny ; it may be proper to
present the reader with the originals themselves. Two
of which, fortune hath just thrown into my hands ; and
two the most curious of their kind. They had been
Answerers from their early youth ; and, as the heads
of opposite parties, never yet agreed in any one thing
but in writing against the Divine Legation. Here they
went to work as brethren : and, indeed, not without
reason : the book was manifestly calculated to spoil their
trade.
These reverend veterans, whom one may, not impro
perly, call Wardens of the Company, had both, as we
say, trod the same path to glory,
Hie pedum mdlor motii
II ic membris et mole valens
and stuck themselves to the fortunes and principles of
two truly great men, to whom, the present happy esta
blishment is exceedingly indebted : to the one, for his
support of our religious constitution ; to the other, for
that of our crciL In the prosecution of which services,
just reasons of church and state had drawn them into
different ways of thinking and engaged in a very warm
controversy, where the interests of both were capitally
concerned.
Into this famous dispute, without any other preparation
than a willing mind ; and a strong desire to be doing, our
VOL. XI, A A two
354 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part IT.
two squires-errant would needs thrust themselves, to
bear the wallet, for salve and lint, and the balsam of
Fierabras: where they battled it, unasked, with the
broken lances, that fell on each side, from the conflict
of their masters. But let not the reader imagine these
were only things they picked up in the combat. For,
though the dispute was, whether a pure virgin church
should be given up to the polluted and profane em
brace, of old civil policy; yet our squires, like honest
Sancho Pancha at the marriage-feast of the fair Quiterui 9
agreed not to quarrel with the scum of good Caniachos
kitchen. In a word, not to dishonour them by compa
risons, like Homers heroes, they did their work, and
dined.
But now that both have been so much luckier than:
men generally are after a drawn-battle, one would
imagine they should have been glad to give the poor
remainder oi their lives a little rest ; and not go out again:
seeking adventures, where nothing was to be expected
but dry blows. For the golden days of controversy had
been long over. Here was no church to be defended but
that of Closes ; which would hardly bear its own charges.
A Jewish theocracy was a barren field, compared to an
English establishment; and a conflict in those quarters
was like a battle in fairy-land, which affords no spoils
but in description. The sage Sancho might, here again,
have been their example, who was glad at last, even
unknighted, to retire with the moderate gratification of
a bill of exchange for three asses. But,
" Our beavor d knights, who bear upon their shield
" Three steeples argent in a sable field,"
are still restless and unsatisfied, and aspiring after the
GOLDEN HELMET OF IViAMBllINO.
Since therefore they have thought fit once more to
entertain the Public, I will do my part that they lose not
the last and only reward yet unpaid them, a ceremonial
and solemn plaudit e: that the posterity of those whom
they so -well entertained in the last age, may understand
what good judges their fathers were of merit. For merit
they laid claim to ; and this search after adventures, they
called a search after, truth. For the easiest of all things
is. to give a good name:; as the hardest is to deserve one.
\. . ; i > Thus,
Remark].] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 355
Thus, (in the manner of these moderators between truth
and falsehood) the TOYMAN OF BATH, with great solem
nity of face informs you, that he is a factor between the
poor and the rich. Not that this importance would be
much amiss, if it stopt there ; as affording others (who
take the thing right, in the sense of making the most of
both) a very innocent occasion of mirth : but the mischief
is, it is apt to give them wrong notions of themselves :
and the Answerer begins to think himself a servant of
truth ; and the toyman, an useful member in the state.
But I should be very unjust to my own order, did I
suffer the reader to remain under a wrong impression, as
if these were the usual ways of rising to the honours of
the gown. 1 have the pleasure of seeing, in the number
of my friends, many who have made their fortune by
supporting the dignity of scholars, and preserving the
integrity of churchmen. And it is with high satisfaction
I can take this occasion of doing justice to the merit of
two of them in particular, who have both greatly distin
guished themselves, in the common service of religion,
against libertinism and infidelity. In which, the one has
so employed his great talents of reasoning, and profound
knowledge in true philosophy ; and the other, his familiar
acquaintance with antiquity, and his exact and critical
skill in the languages ; as to do all that can, in these
times, be expected from the ablest servants of truth, to
put infidelity to silence : while at the same time, to approve
their own sincerity, they have been so far from looking
with a jealous or suspicious eye on others engaged with
them in the same service, that it was with pleasure they
saw new lights attempted to be struck out for its support;
and with readiness that they lent their best assistance
to put them in a way of being fairly considered. I
need not tell the reader, that in this account I pay a
very sparing tribute to the merit of the worthy deans of
Christ-Church and /Winchester*.
REMARK I. BUT it is now time our Heroes should
amwer for themselves. The Examiner of wy second
Proposition leads the way: who, at the time of writing my
Appendix to the first part of these Remarks, I had not
* Dr. John Conybear, and Dr. Zach. Pearce.
A A 2 the
356 . REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part IT,
the least conception to be Dr. Stubbing. And when
afterwards I found the pamphlet generally given to him,
I had still one very particular reason not t0 credit the
report. But when (on the best information) I could no
longer doubt of the author, I sent him word, that, if he
would own his book, I would give it a full answer. lie
desired to be excused : and still hides his head ; so that
we must try to catch this eel of controversy by the tail ;
the only part which sticks out of the mud ; more dirty
indeed than slippery; and still more weak than dirty: as
passing through a trap where lie was forced, al every
step, to leave part of his skin, that is, his system *,
behind him. His Appendix therefore, the part yet un
touched, shall be the subject of our following Remarks :
it is intitled, Cnmidcrations on the Cc.minami to offer up
/i in SMI. In this he opposes an explanation, which, if
true, will be owned by all to be of the highest service to
religion. I shall therefore beg leave to quote and re-
examine it paragraph by paragraph.
By which it will be seen, that, as Cicero says of VcUdus
the Epicurean, " lie fears nothing so much as to appear
" to the reader to doubt of any thing f:" And hopes
nothing so much as that the reader will never doubt of
him. Hence it is, that he, all the way, boldly denies
what he does not understand ; and prudently conceals
what he is unable to confute. But solt ! before tiiis im
portant APPENDIX shews itself, we are gradually brought
on and prepared for its appearance by this inquisitorial
sentence, which concludes his EXAMINATION. " Whe-
" ther you intend (says he) to proceed, or will suffer
" yourself to be wholly diverted from your purpose by
" matters of another kind, LI<:SS SUITABLE TO voni
" CLERICAL FUNCTION ; you best know. But give me
" leave to say, Sir, you are a debtor to the Public ; and
" I hope that in your next vokmie YOU WILL MARK
" SOME AMENDS FOR THE WRONG YOU HAVE DONE JO
" RELIGION in this; in which, instead of placing Chris-
" tianity upon a surer bottom, YOU HAVE ONLY 1-1 R-
" NISHED OUT MORE HANDLES TO UNBELIEVERS
" Do you think such an image of Revelation as this is
* See p. 308, et seq. of this volume.
i Nil tarn metuens quam ne dubitare aliqua de re videretur.
likely
Remark i.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 357
" likely to cure unbelievers of their prejudices, and will
" not rather minister fresh OFFENCE? If any thing
* hinders this effect, it must be the ABSURDITY OF THE
" CONCEIT. But ENOUGH of this. If the reader has
" a mind to see another very ST RON G EXAMPLE OF THE
" SAME SORT OF MANAGEMENT, lie may find it in the
"APPENDIX*."
And in this manner has every honest man been treated
before me, whenever he did, or did but endeavour to
serve mankind. Harvey himself, who had more and
much abler examiners of the absurdity of his conceit
than I have had of mine, scarce got better off with one
JEmiims Parisanus, a man of great name in Italy, who
wrote a complete refutation (as he called it) of the
Doctor s arguments for the circulation of the blood : a
discovery which appears to have given this Italian no
less disturbance than The D vcine Legation has mven our
o m o
Examiner. " Quamobrem nos aliter philosophati et
" ratiocinati de Harveii fidentia (says he) admirati ; de
" clar. Londinensis Academice consensu et conspiratione
" obstupefacti, &c. Verum enirnvero collecto spiritu,
" inissa tandem maximre novitatis admiratione, melius
" nobis consulti, ad vivuin Harveii allata resecantes, ut
46 commenticia et ficta excogitata colligentes, propria
" nostra sentenlia permansimus. Semper in ore atque
" in animo habere debemus, ut homines nos esse memi-
" nerirnus, ea lege natos, ut exposita fortunae telis omni-
" bus et nostra sit vita, & nostra? actiones cunctae sub
" Censoribus semper extent: Proindeque PERPETUO
: PUGNANDUM SIT; & nunc quam maxime, quum pro
" aris et focis atque etiam Larariis (quippe de Corde, &c.)
" fortiter decertandum." Seriously, this w ? as a sad story.
The poor gentleman was plainly frighted. But still he
laments like a gentleman. Here are no insinuations that
Harvey had suffered himself to be diverted by matters
less suitable to his medical Junction, while he was ex
ploring the use of the venal valves. Nor does he
take the liberty to tell him, that he ought to make
amends for the wrong he has done to physic; though he
thought he had done a great deal : or that he had
furnished out more handles for empirics: though he
* Exam, of Mr. Jl r s second Prop. pp. 132, 133.
A A 3 thought
358 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II.
thought they had already too many : but he politely lays
the fault upon the restless temper of human nature itself:
which will never suffer us to enjoy our old opinions in
quiet. But our Examiner is of another cast. And
nothing can save you harmless, when once you have
incurred the danger of OFFENCE, but the absurdity of
your conceits : though offence, that fatal enemy to truth,
be, of all conceits, the most absurd whenever it is taken
before it be given. It is true, the good JEniiims comes
a little to himself, and nearer to our Examiner, in the
language of his conclusion. He had recovered heart;
his victories had elated him ; and Harvey s numerous
experiments upon all animal nature afforded him as
happy an occasion of raillery, as the Dissertations in
The Divine Legation have given those who took them for
digressions. " Jam cliu (says he) per dumeta, vepres,
" syrtes, ac scopulos, duxit nos Harveius; diuque in ejus
" vivariis et piscinis inter testudines, anguillas, cochleas,
" ranas, bufones, et serpentes, vagati sumus ; omnia
" tamen evertimus, ejusque perversa vestigia cuncta de-
" teximus ; omnia cum pulvisculo everrentes quam lon-
" gissime ablegavimus. Quee in celebrium aniiquorum
" recentiorumque omnium ab Harveio immerito not at or um,
" defensionem dicta sunto. Heic redeamus ; ut quae jam
" reprobata et ablegata sunt, ratione, sensu, AUTOPSIA,
" experimentis, in veritatis gratiam fortius obstringantur
" prasdicta3 opinionis omnia destruendo, et inter sese
" pugnantia ulterius ostendcndo," c. c. And in the
same strain, our Examiner. Who assures his reader,
that, if any thing can hinder the ill effects which my
interpretation of the command to Abraham must have
upon religion, it will be his exposing the absurdity of the.
conceit. This is confidently said. But, what then? He
can prove it. So it is to be hoped. If not However
let us first give him a fair hearing.
" I nunc, et verbis virtutem illude superbis."
II. He begins with telling me " that my account of
" the command to Abraham to offer up his son Isaac^
* has no foundation in truth ; and that in attempting to
" remove objections, very well GUARDED against by the
" common interpretation, 1 have raised new ones not to
" be
Remark 2.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 359
" be answered upon mine. And of this (says he) let
" the reader judge*." Agreed " Your position then
" (continues he) is this : That when Cod says to Abra-
" ham, Take thou thy son, thy only son Isaac, fyc. the
" command i-s merely an information by action instead of
41 words, of the great sacrifice of the redemption of man-
" kind, given at the request of Abraham ; who longed,
" impatiently, to see Christ s day. The foundation of
" your thesis you lay in that Scripture of St. John
" (ch. viii. 56.) where Jems says to the unbelieving Jews,
" Your father Abraham rejoiced to see my day, and he
" saw it and was glad. As this text is your .corner*
" stone, your interpretation ought to be very strongly
" supported." p. 138. Well, as he doubts its strength,
and loves the solid buttress of an authority, let him even
take, before we go any further, this old seasoned one.
from the famous Hammond; who when he had translated
jtyaAAiairaJo fva i cfy rw qpipctv T^V ly*m, by Was exceeding
glad THAT HE MIGHT SEE my day, proceeds to para
phrase the text in the following .vords, which oui Phari
saical Examiner may very naturally consider as addressed
to himself. And because you talk so much o/* ABRAHAM,
/ will now say of him, that he, having received the
promise of the Messiah, Gen. xi. 35. DID THEREUPON;
VEHEMENTLY and with great pleasure and eailiency of
mind DESIRE TO LOOK NEARER INTO IT, to see my
coming into the world, and a REVELATION of it WAS
MADE UNTO HIM, and in It of the state of the Gospel,
-and he was heartily joyed at it f. However, the force of
our Examiner s concluding Remark will be seen when IIQ
comes to give us the reason of it in its place. In the
mean time, let me observe, that, if he will needs make
this text my corner-stone, he should have shewn it fairly
as it was laid in The Divine Legation ; and not have
taken it out of its cement, to make it fit for nothing but
the blind corner of an incoherent pamphlet. But it was
not for the credit of his examination to acquaint the
reader that my observations on the text of St. John were
introduced in this manner. If we consider Abraham s
* Considerations on the command to Abraham to offer up Isaac,
pp. 137, 138.
f Paraph, on the New Testament, in loc,
A A 4 personal
360 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II.
personal character, together with the choice made of
him for the head ami origin of that people, which God
would make holy and separate to himself, from whence
was to arise the Redeemer of mankind, the ultimate end
of that separation, we cannot but conclude it probable that
the knowledge of this Redeemer would be revealed to
him. S hall I hide from Abraham the thing which I do ?
O
says God, in a matter that much less concerned the
Father of the faithful, And here in the words of Jesus,
Abraham rejoiced, $c. we hare this PROBABLE FACT
made certain*, 8c, And then I went on to prove, that
by the word day, in the text, was meant the great sacri
fice of Christ But let us take it as it lies in our Con-
siderer, " You say then (continues he, addressing
" himself to the Author of The Divine Legation} that
" by the word day is meant the great sacrifice / Christ;
* f which is thus proved : IVhen the figurative word DAY
" is used not to express in general the period of any ones
" existence, but to denote fits peculiar office and employ-
"rnent; It must needs signify, tliat very circumstance of
" his life, which is the characteristic of such office
" and employment. But Jesus is here speaking of his
" peculiar office and employment, i. e. his office of lle-
" deemer. Therefore, by the word DAY must needs be
" meant the characteristic circinnstance of his life. But
" that circumstance was laying It down j or t lie redemption
" of mankind. Consequently by the word DAY is meant
" the GREAT SACRIFICE of Christ f." This is indeed my
argument, fairly stated. And to that he replies, " Really,
" Sir, I see no manner of consequence in this reasoning.
" That Christ s day hath reference to his office as
" Redeemer, I grant. The day of Christ denotes the
" time when Christ should come, i. e. when HE should
" come who was to be such by office and employment.
" But why it must import also that when Christ came
" he should be offered up as a sacrifice, I dq not in the
" least apprehend : because I can very easily understand,
fc that Abraham might have been informed that Christ
fi was to come, without being informed that he was to
" lay down his life as a. sacrifice. If Abraham saw that
fc a time would come when one of his seed should take
* Div. Leg. vol. vi. pp. 6, 7. of this edit, f Consid. pp. 138, 139.
" away
Remark 2.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 361
" away the curse, he saw Christ s day. And this I say
" he might see, whether he saw by what act the curse
" was taken away or not." p. 1 39.
The reader sees here, that, at first sight, he would
seem to grant my premises. " That Christ s day (says
" he) hath reference to the office as Redeemer, I grant."
Yet the very next words which he uses to explain it con
tradict it : the day of Christ denotes the TIME when
Christ should come. All the sense therefore, I can make
of the concession, when joined to the explanation of it,
amounts to this " Chris fs day has reference to his
of/ice : no, not to his office, but to his time" But he
may grow clearer as he runs. " But why it must import
" ALSO that when Christ came he should be offered up
" as a sacrifice, I do not in the least apprehend." Nor
I, neither. Had I said, that the word day in the text,
imported the time, I could have as little apprehended as
he does, how that which imports tune, imports ALSO the
thing done in time. Let him take this nonsense, there
fore, to himself. I argued in a plain manner, thus
When the word day is used to express, in general, the
period of any one s existence, then it denotes time ; when
to express his peculiar office and employment, then it
denotes, not the time, but that circumstance of life cha
racteristic of such office and employment. Day, in the
text, is used to express Christ s peculiar office and em
ployment. Therefore* But what follows is still better.
His want of apprehension, it seems, is founded in this,
" That he can easily understand, that Abraliafn might
" have been informed that Christ was to come; without
" being informed that he was to lay down his life as a
" sacrifice." Yes, and so could I likewise ; or I had
never been at the pains of making the criticism on the
word day : which takes all its force from this very truth,
that Abraham might have been informed of one, without
the other. And, therefore, to prove he was informed of
that other, I produced the text in question, which afforded
the occasion of the criticism. He goes on " If Abra-
* But the reader may see this truth very well inforced, from
observations on the context, by a learned and sensible writer, in a
pamphlet signed L. U.P. and intitled, A Letter to the Author of
a late Epistolary Dissertation, addressed to Mr. Warburton,
pp.38 to 4-1,
" ham
502 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II.
Ct ham saw, that a time would come when one of his
" seed should take awny the curse, he saw Chris f$ DAY."
Without donbt he did. Because it is agreed thut</tfy
may signify cither time, or circumstance of actian. But
what is this to the purpose? The question is not whether
the word may not, indefinitely, signify time ; but whether
it signifies time in this text. I have shewn it does not.
And what has he said to prove it does ? Why that it
may do so, in another place. His whole answer, there
fore, to the argument, we see, proceeds on an in tire
inapprehension of the very drift and purpose of it
III. I had said, That not only the matter, but the
manner, hkewise, of this great Revelation, is delivered in
the text. Abraham rejoiced to SEE my day, and he
SAW it, and was glad. *W IAH rw jpepw rii/ l/w, *, EIAE.
Which evidently shews it to have been made, not by relation
in words, but by REPRESENTATION inaction. That the
verb it$u is frequently used, in the New Testament, in its
proper signification, to see sensibly. But whether lite
rally orjigurativeiy, it always denotes a full intuition.
That the expression was as strong in the Syrian language,
used by Jesus, as here, in the Greek of his historian-,
which appears from the reply the Jews made to him.
Thou art not yt fifty years old, and hast thou SEEN"
Abraham? Plainly intimating, that they understood
the assertion, of Abraham s seeing Christ s day, to be a
real beholding him in person. That we are therefore to
conclude, from the words of the text, that the redemption
of mankind was not only revealed to Abraham, but was
revealed likewise by representation *. This argument our
punctual Examiner represents in the following manner :
4t You are not more successful in your next point,
" Abraham rejoiced to see my day, and he saw it and was
" glad. IW IAH r^v ifAifutf w ipw ^ EIAE. This (say
" you) evidently shews it [the Revelation] to have been
" made not by relation in words, but by representation
" in action. How so ? The reason follows. The verb
" *tiu is frequently used in the New Testament, in its
" proper si griijicatmi, to see sensibly. In the New Tes-
* tament do you say ? Yes, Sir, and in every Greek
*. Div. Leg. vol. vi.p. 8. of this edit.
book
Remark 3.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 363
" book you ever read in your lite. What you SHOULD
" have said is, that it is so used here; and i suppose
" you would have said so, if you had known how to have
" proved it." pp. 130, 140.
<; The reason follows" (says he). Where? In The
Divine Legation indeed, but not in his imperlect quota
tion ; which breaks off before he conies to my argun eht.
One who knew him not so well as I do, would suspect
this was done to serve a purpose. No such matter :
twas all pure innocence. He mistook the introduction
of my argument for the argument itself. The argument
itself which he omits in the quotation (and which was all
I wanted for the proof of my point), was, That the verb
fTJ, whether used literally or figuratively, always denotes
a full intuition. And this argument, I introduced in the
following manner, The verb tt3u is frequently used in the
New Testament in its proper signification, to sec sensibly.
Unluckily, as we say, he took this for the argument
itself, and thus corrects me for it : " What you SHOULD
" have said, is, that it is so used here ; and I suppose
" you would have said so, if you had known how to have
" proved it." See, here, the true origin both of pre*
scribing and divining! His IGNORANCE of what ./ did
say, leads him to tell me what I should have said; and to
divine what / would have said. But, what I said, I ll
stand to, That the verb <fe> alzvays denotes a jull intui
tion. This was all I wanted from the text ; and on this
foundation I proceeded, in the sequel of the discourse,
to prove that Abraham saw sensibly. Therefore, when
my Examiner takes it (as he does) for granted, that
because in this place, I had not proved that the word
implied to see sensibly, I had not proved it at all; he is
a second time mistaken.
He goes on, " One thing needs no proof, which is,
" that, in all languages, seeing and knowing are fre-
" quently used as equivalent terms." p. 140. As I
don t know what he means by this one thing, I can only
requite him with another, that needs as little ; which is,
that, in all churches, seeing and believing are frequently
iised, by bigots, as equivalent terms. Here s my obser
vation for his observation ; and, I thkik, a good deal
more to the purpose.
IV. But
364 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II.
IV. But our Examiner will now shew, that, seeing
Christ s day, and seeing the promises afar off, are one
and the same thing. * We have an instance (says he)
" directly to the point in hand, Heb.xi.i^. These all
" died in Jaith, not having received the promises ; dx\&
" GroppuQiit aJT*\ IAONTE2, but having SEEX them afar
" off. You will remember, Sir, that Abraham stands in
" this catalogue, amongst the rest; and the Apostle says
" of them all indifferently, that they saw the promises,
" i. e. that blessing which was the subject of these pro-
" mises. How did they see them ? By representation
" in action, will you say? I suppose not. But the apos-
" tie tells you how. They saw them by faith, a great
" way off: and why may not this be all that our Saviour
" intended % What difference, in sense, is there between
" saying, that he saw the promises ajar off ; and that he
" saw Chrisfs day?" p. 140.
" We have an instance (says lie) directly to the point
" in hand." Of what? Why, that the verb a Jw signifies
the same in this place of the epistle to the Hebrews as
in the text in question. Now, there it is applied to
promises, so cannot be literal; and here it is applied to
day, and so, very well, may. Yet this he calls " an
instance directly to the point in hand."
" You will remember, Sir (says he) that Abraham
" stands in that catalogue amongst the rest." And you
will remember, Sir> say I, That Abraham stands alone in
the words of Jesus. But your logic, 1 suppose, con
cludes thus : if Abraham knew as much as the rest ; why,
then the rest knew as much as Abraham. Otherwise
you would have observed, that the seeing the promises
afar off related to that time of the life of each Patriarch
in which he performed the act of faith there celebrated.
For the argument stands thus : by faith, Abel, Enoch,
Noah, Abraham, did so and so; yet, as illustrious as
those acts of faith were, they had then only seen the pro
mises afar off : therefore you Christians, c. And it is
remarkable that the acts of faith, for which Abraham is
here celebrated, were prior in time to the command to
offer up his son. Now, after this, what hinders our
concluding, from the words of Jesus, that Abraham had
a still more illustrious manifestation of the promise ?
However,
Remark 5-] OCCzVSIONAL REFLECTIONS. 365
However, if I should fail in reconciling Jesus and the
author of the epistle to the Hebrews, let the reader
remember, that it is our Examiner who has set them at
variance. And he only makes the breach wider, where
he tries to bring them to a temper. " The apostle
" (says he) tells you, they saw the promises, by faith, a
" great way off: and why may not this be all that our
" Saviour intended ? What difference IN SENSE, is there
" between saying, that he saw the promises afar off, and:,
" that he saw Chris? s day?" What difference do you
ask ? Why, about as much as between your sight and
ChillingKorttis. Or as much as between an object seen,
at a distance, through a mist; and one, at hand, in broad
daylight.
V. " But, he owns, that, if this was all, perhaps /
" should tell him, that it was a very strange answer of the
" Jews, thou art not yet fifty years old, and hast thou
" seen Abraham" p. 140. He is very right. He might
be sure I would. In answer therefore to this difficulty,
he goes on and says, " No doubt, Sir, the Jews answer
" our Saviour, as if he had said, that Abraham and he
" were contemporaries ; in which, they answered very
" foolishly, as they did on many other occasions ; and the
" answer will as little agree with your interpretation as it
" does with mine. For does your interpretation suppose
" that Abraham saw Christ in person ? No; you say
" it was by representation only." pp. 140, 141.
" The Jews answer our Saviour as if he had said, that
Abraham and he were contemporaries." Do they so?
Why then, tis plain, the expression was as strong in the
Syrian Language, used by Jesus, as in the Greek of his
historian, which was all I aimed to prove by it. But
" in this (says he) they answered very foolishly." What
then ? Did I quote them for their wisdom ? A little
common sense was all I wanted of them : and that, tis
plain, they had. For the folly of their answer arises
from it. They heard Jesus use a word in their vulgar
idiom, which signified to see corporeally, and common
sense led them to conclude he used it in the vulgar
meaning. In this they were not mistaken. But, from
thence, they inferred, that he meant it in the sense of
seeing
366 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part IT.
seeing personally ; and in this, they were. And now let
the reader judge whether tlie jolly of their anszver shews
the Join/ of my argument, or of my Examiner s. Nay
further, he tells us, they answered " as foolishly on many
" other occasions." They did so ; and I will remind
him of one, Jesus says to hicodemus, except a man be
born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God*, $c.
Suppose now, from these words, I should attempt to
prove that regeneration and divine grace were realities,
and not mere metaphors. For that Jesus, in declaring
the necessity of them, used such strong expressions that
Aicodemus understood him to mean the being physically
born again, and entering the second time into the womb.
Would it be sufficient, let me ask my Examiner, to reply
in this manner, " No doubt, Sir, Nicodemus answered
" our Saviour as if he had said, that a follower of the
" Gospel must enter a second time into his mothers
" icomb and be born: in which he answered very fool-
" ishly ; and the answer will as little agree with your
" interpretation as it does with mine. For does your
" interpretation suppose he should so enter ? No ; but
" that he should be born of water and of the spirit." 9
Would this, I say, be deemed, by our Examiner, a suffi
cient answer ? When he has resolved me this, J shall,
perhaps, have something farther to say to him. In the
mean time I go on. And, in returning him his last
woids restored to their subject, help him forward in the
solution of what I expect from him. " The answer
" (says he) will as little agree with your interpretation
" as it does with mine. For does your interpretation
" suppose that Abraham saw Christ in person? No;
" you say, it was by representation only." Very well.
Let me ask then, in the first place, whether he supposes
what I said on this occasion, was to prove that Abraham
saw Christ from the reverend authority of his Jewish
adversaries; or to prove that the verb sUu signified to see
literally, from their mistaken answer ? He thought me
here, it seems, in the way of those writers, who are
quoting authorities, when they should be giving argu
ments. Hence, he calls the answer the Jews here gave,
&joolish one : as if I stood sponsor for its orthodoxy.
* St. John iii. 3.
But
Remark 6.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 367
But our Examiner is still farther mistaken. The point
I was upon, in support of which I urged the answer of
the Jews, was not the seeing this, or that person: but
the seeing corporeally, and not mentally. Now, if tl)e
Jews understood Jesus, as saying that Abraham saw
corporeally, I concluded, that the expression, used by
Jesus, had that import : and this was all I was concerned
to prove. Difference, therefore, between their answer as
I quoted it, and my interpretation, there was none.
Their answer implied that Abraham was said to see
corporeally; and my interpretation supposes that the
words used had that import. But to make a distinction
where there was no difference, seeing in person, and seeing
by representation, are brought in, into a question, where
they have nothing to do.
VI. Our Examiner, after all these feats, now stops
and looks about him ; as waiting modestly for his reader s
approbation and applause ; and to shew how well he
deserves it, purposes, out of pure love of justice, to
resume his task, and kill me over again. " To do you
" full justice .( says he) I will take in one observation
" more, by which, you have endeavoured to strengthen
" yourself, and which relates to the former part of the
" text. That Abraham had a general promise, that m
" him all the families of the earth should be blessed,
" which general promise comprehends or contains the
" promise of the redemption, is agreed between us.
" And this general promise, I suppose, might be the
" subject of the patriarch s joy. You (in favour of vour
u hypothesis) suppose, that, subsequent to this general
" promise, Abraham had, upon his earnest request,,
" some special promise made to him of a more distinct
" communication of the manner how, and the means by
" which this great work should be accomplished ; and
" that this special promise was the matter of his rejoicing.
" This history of Abraham (say you) had plainly three
" distinct periods. The first contains God s promise to
" grant his request, when Abraham rejoiced that he
" SHOULD SEE- Within the second, was the delivery of
"the command to sacrifice his son And Abraham s
" obedience, through which he SAW Christ s day and was
"glad,
368 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I L
" glad, includes the third. - The promise, which you say
" God made to Abraham to grant his request, cannot be
" the general promise, that he should be a blessing to all
" nations ; for this was given upon his first vocation
" without his request, Therefore it must be a special
" subsequent promise. But there is not one word in the
" history of the Old Testament to justify this three-fold
w distinction ; as you confess yourself. For you say that
" Moses $ history begins with the second period ; and
" that the first was wisely omitted by the historian. If
" there never was any such period, never any such special
" promise requested or made; it was very honest in the
" historian to say nothing about it: and YOU WILL BE
" THE WISE MAN, WHO CAN SEE WHAT IS NOT TO BE
" FOUND." pp. 141, 142.
" The general promise made to Abraham, that in him
" all the families of the earth should be blessed, it is
" agreed (lie tells us) comprehends the promise of the
" redemption : and this general promise, he supposes,
" might be the subject of the patriarch s joy," mentioned
by Jesus, in the text in question. Which observation,
he is so fond of, that he repeats it again in p. 145.
" Abraham, seeing a redemption to come through his
" seed, REJOICED at the blessing." But now, if Abra
ham was ignorant that this general promise comprehended
in it the promise of redemption, how could that redemp
tion be the subject (f the patriarch* s joy? That he was
ignorant, I prove from the best authority with our
Examiner ; I mean his own. This general promise, as
a prophesy of the Messiah or Redeemer, is agreed on all
hands, to be obscure. Now our Examiner has laid it
down as a maxim, that " so far as prophecy is obscure
" (and it is in the nature of prophecy to be obscure more
" or less) so far it was obscure to the prophets them-
" selves." p. 156. This, in satisfaction to himself. But
in satisfaction to his reader, 1 go further ; and shew, that
the general promise, mentioned by Moses, could not be
the occasion of the patriarch s joy, mentioned by Jesus ;
even on our Examiner s own contradictory conception of
things. I will suppose, for once, that Abraham did
understand, that, in the general promise, tvas contained
a promise of redemption. But will he -say the time, too,
was
Remark 6.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 369
was contained in it ? Now he owns, that the occasion of
Abrahams joy was the knowledge of the TIME when
Christ should come. " The day of Christ (says lie)
"denotes the time when Christ should come/ p. 139.
I conclude, therefore, from his own words, that " the
" subject of the patriarch s joy COULD NOT be this
" general promise." And, by this conclusion, expose the
injustice of his following remark, that it " was in favour
" of my HYPOTHESIS that I supposed there was a special
" promise made to Abraham at his earnest request, sub-
" sequent to the general one. 1 If it was in favour of
any thing but truth, it was in favour of common-sense,
which always leads to it. And which pointed out to me
the three periods I discovered in this special promise.
" But (he tells me) there is not one word, in the history
" of the Old Testament, to justify this threefold distinc-
" tion." And that I myself CONFESS as much. It is
true, that I confess not to find in the Old Testament
what is not there. And had the like modesty been in
him, he would have been content to have found a fat art
state in the New Testament only. But where is it, I
would ask, that, " I confess there is not one word, in
" the history of the Old Testament, to justify this three-
" fold distinction ? " For this is news. So far was I
from any thoughts of such confession, that I gave a large
critical epitome* of Abrahams whole history, to shew
that it justified this threefold distinction, in every part of
it. But his manner of proving my confession, will clearly
convict him of the falsehood of his charge. For, instead
of doing it from my own words, he will argue me into it
from his own inferences. " You confess it (says he) FOR
" you say, that Moses s history begins with the second
:< period, and that the first was wisely omitted by the
" historian." See, here, the perversity of our Examiner 1
When the point is a question of right* he gives his reader
an authority : when a question of fact, a reason. But
what sort of reason let us now see, by applying it to a
parallel case. I will suppose him to tell me, (for, after
this, he may tell me any thing) " that I myself confess
there is not one word in the Iliad of Homer, to justify
" the being three periods in the destruction of Troy,
* From p. 10 to 15, of The Ditine Legation, vol. vi.
VOL. XL Be " (the
370 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part It
u (the first the robbery of Helen; the second, the com-
" bats before the town ; and the third, the storming of it
" by the Greeks) for that I say, that Homers poem
; begins at the second period ; wisely omitting the first
" and last." Now will arry one conclude, from this
reason, that I had made that confession ? He is so far
from owning that I had given any reasons (though I had
given many) of Moses s wisdom in omitting the mention-
of the first period, that his following words, rf they have
any meaning, insinuate I had given none, "If there
" never was any such period ; it was very honest in the
" historian to say nothing about it." The reader sees, I
querstion his having a meaning ; and my reason is, because,
1 find, it was to introduce a piece of wit. For, as the
town-poet frequently compounds for the rhime, with one
half of his distieh ; ; so the town-prose-man for the wit,
with one half of his sentence.- " And you (saijs he;
tk will be the WISE MAN who can see what is not to be
tc found." Now the two members of his wit do not
agree. " It was very honest in the historian and you
" will be the wise man." The careless reader may think
he only meantf, here, to call me fool. But, indeed, it was
my knavery that was to stand in opposition to Moses*
honesty. This, therefore,, is to be considered as one of
those disguised sentences, which the critics so much admire
in the works of the greatest writers. However, I here
call upon him first to prove that I did confess what he
charges upon me, in pain of being deemed a false
accuser. And this for the jHrgt %i\\\t.
VII. He proceeds " But what is wanting In history,
" it seems, criticism is to supply. The words in the
" original are, flyaAAiaVold INA IAH ; i. c. (say you) l:c
u rejoiced that HE LI i GUT SEE; which implies that the
period of this joy was in the space between the promise
" that the favour should be conferred, and the actual
" conferring it, in the delivery of the command. Tht
English phrase, to see, is equivocal; and means either
:i the present time, that he did then see ; or the future,
61 that he should see. But the original *W 1% has only the
" latter sense: so that the text plainly distinguishes two
" different periods of joy ; thejirst, when it was promised
"he
Remark;.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 371
" he should see; the second, when he actually saw : and
" it is to be observed, that in the e.iact use of the KWY/,
u ayaAAtao^at signifies that tumultuous pleasure whic/i
" the certain expectation of an approaching blessing,
" understood only in the gross, occasions; and %<*fpu that
<c calm and settled jot/, that arises from our knowledge in
" the possession of it. Where are your authorities for all
" tliis ? You produce none. Wherever you had your
" Greek, I am very sure you had it not from the New
" Testament, where these words are used indiscrimi-
" nately." pp. 142, 143. "Where are your authorities?
" You produce none." No. I wrote to those who under
stood their grammar, and read Greek : and such want
none in a case so clear and notorious. But this is to
insinuate, that I had none to produce. He dare not,
indeed, say so. And in this I commend his prudence,
as he knew nothing of the matter. However, in this, he
is positive, that " wherever I had my Greek, I had it not
<c from the New Testament." The gentleman is hard to
please: here he is offended that I had it not; and,
before, that I had it from the New Testament. Here I
impose upon him ; there I trifled with him. But, in all
this diversity of acceptance, tis still the same spirit ; of
an answerer by profession.
I had said, the two Greek words, in their exact me,
signify so and so. Which surely implied an acknow
ledgment, that this exactness was not, always, kept up
to; especially by the writers of the New Testament .,
who, whatever some may have dream d, did not pique
themselves upon a classical elegance. Now, this impli
cation, our Examiner takes upon him to confirm, but by
way of confutation. " In the New Testament (says he)
" these words are used indiscriminately." I had plainly
insinuated the same; and he had better have let it rest
on my acknowledgment : for the instances he brings, to
prove the words used indiscriminate ly in the New Testa
ment, are even enough to persuade the reader that they
are not. His first instance is, i Pet.iv. 13. " Rejoice
" [x ai/ P* ] inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ s suf-
"fer ings , that when his glory shall be revealed [^fin
" afaAAiw^fvot] ye may be glad with exceeding joy. See
" you not here (says he) the, direct reverse of what you
B R 2 " say;
37* REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part Hi
" say; that x ai/ P w signifies the joy which arises upoir
" prospect, and oiyzXXiaoptxi that which arises from
" possession." p. 143. No indeed. I see nothing like
it. All the reverse here, is the reverse of common sense.
Yet in that reverse, (a feat none but himself could have
brought about) the confirmation of my own remark.
Amazing ! The followers of Christ are bid to rejoice
X&^clE. For what ? For being partaker* of Christ s
sufferings. And was not this a blessing in possession ?
But some divines, it seems, have no notion how suffering
can be a blessing. Yet St. Paul reckons the fellowship
of Christ s sufferings amongst the great privileges of the
Gospel, such as the excellency of the knowledge of Christ
and the poire r of his resurrection*. And St. John cou
ples it with Christ s kingdom f the kingdom and patience
tjf Jesus Christ. And how great a blessing St. Peter
(in the Examiner s text) esteemed it, appears by what
follow:;, that when his glory shall be revealed, y&pnTs
ayaAAi^aaot, ye may be glad with exceeding joy* But I*
have other business with these last words. For as he
quoted the foregoing, to prove that xp.lg* signifies the joy
which arises upon prospect ; so he quotes these to prove
that cfyaAAiao^at signifies that which arises on possession.
And with equal success. They are bid to rejoice now in
sufferings, that they might rejoice and be exceeding glad
at Christ s second coming. And is this a rejoicing at a
good in possession ? Is it not for a good in prospect ?
The reward they were going to receive. For I suppose
the appearance of Christ s glory will precede the reward
of his followers. Unless our Examiner has another
mystery to shew us, which St. Paid left untoldy That the
reward is to come first, aad the glory follow. So that
now the reader sees he has himself fairly proved, by a
good substantial text, the truth of my observation, 2 hat
in the exact use of the words, ayaxWo/xa* signifies tluit
tumultuous pleasure which the certain expectation of an
approaching blessing occasions? and xxfpu that c.alm and
settled joy that arises from our knowledge in the possession
of it.
His other instances are, Rev. xix. 7, lc Let us be glad
" and rejoice [^a/jp&yxfv >$ dyK\\MpAoi\ for the marriage
* Phil. hi. 8 10, f Rev.i.9.
Remark 7.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 373
" of the Lamb is come. Where both words refer to
* c blessings in possession. Again, Matt. v. 12. Rejoice
" and be exceeding glad [x*i& *? ayaAAiao-0*] for great
4i is your reward in Heaven : where both refer to bless-
"ings in prospect." pp. 143, 144. His villainous old
luck still pursues him. The first text from the Revela-
1 ions-, Be glad and rejoice, FOR the marriage of the Lamb
is come-, bids the followers of Chr st now do that, which
they were bid to prepare for in the words of St. Peter,
that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad
with exceeding joy. If, therefore, where they are bid to
prepare for their rejoicing, the joy is for a good in pros
pect (as we have proved it was), then, certainly, where
they are told that this time of rejoicing is come, the joy
must still be for a good in prospect. And yet he says,
the words refer to blessings in possession. Again, the
text from St. Matthew Rejoice, and be exceeding glad,
FOR great is your reward in Heaven, has the same
relation to the former part of St. Pt ter^ words, [Rejoice
inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ s sufferings} as
the text, in the Revelations, has to the latter. Blessed
tire ye (says Jesus in this Gospel) when men shall revile
you and persecute you, and s-hall say all manner of evil
against you falsely for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding
glad, FOR great is your reward in Heaven. Rejoice !
For what ? Is it not for the persecutions they suffer for
-his sake ? A present blessing sure ; though not, it may
be, to our Author s taste. The reason why they should
rejoice, follows, for great is your reward in "Heaven.
And yet here, he says, the words refer to blessings in
prospect. In truth what led him into all these cross
purpose*, of reasoning, was a very pleasant mistake.
The one text says Be glad and rejoice, FOR o-n The
other, Rejoice, and -be exceeding glad, FOR on Now he
vtook the particle, jn both places, to signify propter, for
4 he sake of\ whereas it signifies, quoniam, quia, and is, in
proof of something going before. So that he read the
itext Rejoice, for^the marriage of .the Lamb is come ,
as if it ; had been Rejoice J or the marriage of the Lamb,
which is come: and rejoice, for great is your reward
in Heaven ; as if it had been, Rejoice for your great
reward in Heaven.
BB ,3
374 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II.
But now let us consider all these texts in another view,
in order to do justice to his delicacy of judgment. I
had said that, in the exact use of the two Greek words,
they signified so and so ; and applied that observation to
a fact ; where a person was mid to have rejoiced, $c.
In order to disprove this criticism, he brings three pas
sages, in which those Greek words are used, where no
fact is related ; but where men are, in a rhetorical man
ner, called upon, and bid to rejoice, 8$c. In which case,
the use of one word for another, is an elegant conversion.
Those, in possession of a blessing, are bid to rejoice with
that exceeding joy, which men generally have in the
certain expectation of one approaching; and those in
expectation, with that calm and settled joy, that attends
tull possession. And now who but our Examiner would
not see that all his instances fall short and wide of the
point in question : the use of words being one thing, in an
historical assertion ; and another in a rhetorical invocation * ?
VIII. However, having so ably acquitted himself of
one criticism, he falls upon another. i( But what then
4; (says he) shall we do with iv? To rejoice that he
"might see the blessing which he already had , in the
" English language, is not sense. I grant it. And
" therefore our translators avoid it, and render the
" passage thus; Abraham rejoiced TO SEE my day ; which
" rendering will very well stand with the Greek ; where
" lfv is often put for ors or cm ; POSITIVE AS you
" ARE THAT IT ALWAYS REFERS TO A FUTURE TIME."
p. 144.
What shall we do with 1W ?" What indeed ! But
no sooner said than done. He fathers it upon me. And
having stript it of all its relations, will needs make me
maintain it. " "Im (says he) is often put for ore or on,
" positive as you are, that it always refers to a future
" time." p. 144. Now, so far from being positive of
this, I positively deny that I ever so much as gave the
least hint of such a thing. And here I again call
upon him to prove it, as he values his character of an
answerer by profession-, and this for the ^CCOlttl
* See what the Letter Writer, quoted above, has taid concerning
the use of these two Greek verbs, pp.6 2 to 65, with much learning
and judgment.
Hem. 8. 9.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 375
Sime *. I said, indeed, that *W %, in the text refers
only to a future time. And this I say still, though the
translators have rendered it, equivocally, to see ; whether
for the reason assigned by me, or my Examiner, is left
to the judgment of the reader. Yet he affirms, that
I say, u *W always refers to a future time." That
I am positive of it, nay very positive, " positive as
" you are/ says he. And to cure me of this fault,
he proceeds to shew, from several texts, that <W is often
put for ors or on. " Thus Johnxvi. 2. The time cometh,
" THAT [IW] whosoever killeth you, will think that he
"doth God service. Again: \ Cor. iv. 3. With me it
" is a small thing THAT [*W] / should be judged of you.
" And nearer to the point yet, 3 John 4. / have no
* greater joy [IW ax] than THAT I hear, or than TO
" hear that my children walk in the truth. And why
* not here, Sir; Abraham rejoiced [<W uTj] WHEN he saw,
" or, THAT he saw, or, which is equivalent, TO SEE my
"day." p. 144. In acknowledgment of which kindness,
all I can do is, to return him back his own criticism ;
only with the Greek words put into Latin. The trans
lator of the vulgar Latin has rendered *W ify by ui
videret, which words I will suppose him to say (as indif
ferent a Latimst as he appears to have been) refer only
to a future time. On which I will be very arch and
critical ; Positive ax you are, Sir, that ut always refers
to a future time, / will shew you that it is sometimes put
Jbr postquarn, the past,
Ut vidi, ut perii, ut me malus abstulit error !
and, nearer to the point yet, sometimes for quanto, Ut
quisque optime Grace sciret, ita esse nequissimum.
" And why not here, Sir, Abraham rejoiced [ut videret]
:i WHEN HE saw, or THAT he saw, or, which is equiva-
" lent, TO SEE my day."
IX. And now he tells us, " There is but one difficulty
" that stands in the way." And what is one to a man
* Here the learned writer above mentioned is justly scandalized
at his man. " Pray, Sir, (says he) what authority have you for
" this, that Mr. IV. is positive Vva always refers to a future time?
" What he saith is, that W . Jf^ in the text signifies the future time:
"and this, Sir, it does, and needs must, for abundance of reasons."
p. 59-
B B 4
376 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II,
who can surmount them with the same ease he makes
them? The difficulty is this ; " That according to his
" \the Examiners] interpretation, tlie latter part of the
" sentence is a repetition of the former. Abraham re-
" joked to see my day, and he saw it and was glad; i. e.
" Abraham rejoiced to see, ami then saw and rejoiced.
" But sucli kind of repetitions are frequent in the sacred
" dialect; and, in my humble opinion, it has an elegance
" here ; Abraham rejoiced to see my day ; xj ?&, *J xf ?,
" HE BOTH SAW and WAS GLAD." pp. 144, 4 45-
I had talked much of repetitions in the sacred style ;
and he will do so too ; but without knowing the difference
between a pleonasm and a tautology ; the first of which
is, indeed, often a beauty ; the other, always a blemish
in expression : and in this number is the elegant repeti
tion of our Examiner s own making. But, for the reader s
better information, I shall transcribe what I said on this
subject in The Divine Legation. The Pleonasm evi
dently arose from the narrowness of a simple language:
The Hebrew, in which this figure abounds, is the scantiest
of all the learned languages of the East: Amant (says
(Ji otius) Hebraei verborum copiam ; itaque rem eandem
multis v r erbis exprimunt. He does not tell us the reason ;
but we have given it above, and it seems a very natural
one: for when the speakers phrase comes not up to his
ideas (as in a scanty language it often will not) he endea
vours, of course, to explain himself by a repetition of the
thought in other words ; as he, whose body is straiten d
in room, is always dissatisfied with his present posture*.
A repetition of this kind, made in different words, is
called a pleonasm : but when in the same words, (as it is
in the text in question, if there be any repetition at all)
it is then a tautology ; which, being without reason, our
Examiner will iind a beauty in it. " In my humble
" opinion (says he) it has an elegance." This is not ill
expressed. Humility of opinion well becomes him who
begs his question; and still better, him who is about to
steal it ; which we shall see under the next Remark, he
was just now projecting But the only pretence to e/o
gancCy nay even to sense, in his translation of the text,
arises from our being able to understand the equivocal
* Sue Div. Leg. vol. iv p. 170.
phrase
Remark io.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 377
phrase to see in my meaning of, that he might sec; as
will appear to the reader, by confining it to the Ex
aminer s meaning ; thus, Abraham rejoiced when he had
seen my day, and he saw it and was glad. The absurdity
of which expression arises from hence, that the latter
part of the sentence, beginning with the conjunction
completive, *J, naturally implies a further predication.
Yet there is no further. But our Examiner, willing to
avoid so glaring an absurdity, artfully drops the sense of
^ in the sound of BOTH. I call it the sound, for sense
there is none. Abraham rejoiced to see my day, he both
saw and was glad, says our elegant translator. As if,
when he rejoiced to see, there could be any doubt whether
he did not BOTH see and rejoice. Therefore I should
advise him not to despise the assistance the learned Letter-
writer gives him, who tells him here, that the best sense,
he will ever be able to make of it, will be this, Abraham
rejoiced to see my day, aye, that lie did*. But then as
for the elegance of it, he must look to that himself.
X. Having now so happily got through his criticism
on my text,, he draws one concluding argument; with
which he runs a muck at my whole dissertation. " I sup-
" pose, Sir, it may now be granted that it is not clear
" from these words of our Saviour ; that Abraham had
" any such notice of Christ s sacrifice as you contend
" for. Here THEN, Sir, your argument must necessarily
" have its period. For this text stands as the FOUNDA-*
" TION of all that follows." p. 14.5. Fair and softly,
good Sir, for, (though your argument be already an
swered, in a confutation of your premisses) I would not
have you run away with the opinion that there is any
relation between them and your conclusion ; further than
what arises from an equivocation, which is a very bad
bond of connexion. The word FOUNDATION, when
applied, figuratively, to a thesis, signifies either the support
of it ; or the orderly introduction to it. That I used it
in the latter sense, appears, not only from the nature of
the thing, but from my own express words, in the very
place where I speak of tins foundation. The foundation
of my thesis I lay in that Scripture of St. John, where
Jesus says to the unbelieving Jews, Your father Abraham
* Letter to the Author of a late Epist. Diss. p. 66.
rejoiced
3?S REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part IL
rejoiced to see my day, and he saw it and was glad.
If we consider Abraham s personal character, together
with the choice mack of him for head ami origin rf that
people which God "would make holy and separate to himself,
from ichence was to rise the Redeemer of Mankind, the
ultimate end of that separation, WE CANNOT BUT CON
CLUDE IT PROBABLE that the knowledge of this Re-
deemer should be revealed to him. Shall I hide from
Abraham the thing which I do, says God, in a matter
that much less concerned the Father of the Faithful.
And here, in the words of Jesus, we have this PROBABLE
FACT, ARISING FROM THE NATURE OF THE THING,
made certain and put out of ail reasonable question *. *
Here the reader sees that I use the words of Jesus which
I call the foundation, as the orderly introduction to and
confirmation only of a thesis which I call probable, and
prove by other media. And as I shew, both from the
words of Jesus, and the nature of the thing, that Abra
ham saw Christ s day : so, from both, I prove that this
truth must be recorded somewhere or other in the Old
Testament From thence I proceed to the proof of
these two points, " i. That there is no place in the whole
" history of Abraham, but that where he is commanded
" to oiler up his son, which bears the least marks or
." traces of the revelation of Christ s day. 2. That this
" command has all the marks of it, and is, indeed, that
" very revelation f ." In doing this, amongst the various
arguments employed, I shew that, at the time of A bra-
ham, information by action was the most familiar mode
of conversation ; that the history of the Command has
all the marks of such a conversation ; that, if it be not
so understood, the story of Abraham is abrupt and un
connected ; and the history of the Command attended
with insuperable difficulties. Yet for all this, my Exa
miner tells you, That my thesis " must necessarily have
its period," when he has taken away the foundation in
my text .
Tis true, he gives a reason for this definitive sentence,
which is this : " That the tendency of all that follows is
* t)iv. Leg. vol.vi. pp.6, 7- t Ibid. p. 10.
% See this point well argued by the learned writer of the Letter
before-mentioned, in which, from p. 3 to 12, be very ably confutes
the Examiner s conclusion,
10 " ONLY
Remark ii.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 379
" ONLY TO SHEW THAT ADMITTING, OR ALLOWING
" THAT ABRAHAM WAS ACQUAINTED WITH THE
" GREAT SACRIFICE OF CHRIST, that then it is reason-
" able to expect an account of it in his history," 8$c. &;c.
p. 145. Tlie reader observes from my own words, in
The Divine Legation, quoted above, that I thought we
might from the nature of the thing, expect an account of
it in his history. This is therefore the Cgii D Cime
I am obliged to call solemnly upon him, to shew that all
my proofs .of the command s being the revelation of
Christ s day, rest upon " the admission or allowance
" that Abraham was acquainted with the great sacrifice
" of Christ, as it is to be collected from the te.it in St.
" John." The last words I have added ; and thereby
hangs a tale. The reader is now to be let into a secret
The Examiner, in giving the finishing stroke to the Dis
sertation on the Case of Abraham, had reserved, as was
fit, one of the neatest tricks of his trade to be played off
on this occasion. And thus he does the feat. * Your
" foundation (says he) is subverted ; therefore all that
" follows is overthrown." Why so? Why so! Because
" the tendency of all is to shew, that, admitting or allow-
" ing that Abraham was acquainted then it is reasonable
" to expect" Well, but may it not be admitted or
allowed, from other arguments produced in The Divine
Legation besides the text in question, that Abraham was
acquainted with the great sacrifice of Christ? Your
humble servant, Sir, says he, for that. The force of my
consequence depends upon the honest reader s taking it,
as I design he should ; that it could only be admitted or
allowed from the text in question : for if once he conceives
that it might be allowed from other arguments in The
Divine Legation, there is an end of my consequence;
and yet you would put me upon explaining.
XL However, our Examiner, as if not quite satisfied
himself, with this period he hath put to my argument, goes
on thus : " But to make good the defect in this conse-
" quential reasoning, you offer at one direct proof, to
" shew that the command, and the transaction consequent
" upon it, was indeed as a representative information to
4t Abraham of the redemption of mankind, by the sacri-
" fice of Christ j which is, That the author of the epistle
"to
REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II.
? to the Hebrtxi -s has plainly hinted that he considered
it in this light. Your proof is from these wards,
".chap, xi. 17 19. By faith, Abraham offered up
" Isaac accounting that God was able to raise him from
+ the dead\ from, whence also he rcccivc-dhim in a figure,
4 EN nAPABOAH) in a parable : A incde of information
by words or actions, which consists in putting one -thing
"for another. Now in a writer (say you) who re-
11 gankd this commanded action, as a representative
" information of the redemption of mankind, nothing
* could be more fine or eaxy than this expression. For
* 4 though Abraham did iwt, indeed, receive Isaac restored
** to life after a real dissolution ; yet the son being, in
* this action, to represent Christ MtffMtig death for the
" sins of the itorld, when the Father brought him safe
"from Mount Moriah, after three days, during ichicfi
" he ti YAs- m a state of condemnation to death; he plainly
<4 received him under the character of Christ s represen-
fc< fa fire, as restored from the dead. For as his coming
* to the Mount, awl binding, a.nd laying on the altar,
* figured the sufferings and death of Christ ; so Jris being
4i taken from thence alice, as properly figured Christ s
" remrrection from the dead. With the highest pro-
4i pricty, therefore, -and elegance of speech, might
* l Abraham be said to receire Isaac from the dead in a
^ parable, or in representation." pp. 146, 147.
Let as see now what our Examiner has to object to
this criticism. " By your leave, Sir," says he which,
by the way, he never asks, but to abuse me ; nor never
takes, but to misrepresent me " If the Apostle had
" meant by this ex [Cession, to signify, that Isaac stood
" as the representative^ Christ, and that his being taken
" from the Mount alive was the figure of Chrisfs resur-
" rection ; it should have been said, that Abraham
* received CniiivST from the dead in a figure." p. 147.
Sec here, ye little critics ; that Na*, that soul of criticism -,
which licHtley so much lamented he could find no
ulierc, out of hioiself. The writer of the epistle to the
Hebrews is giving an instance of Abrahams faith,
who, against hope, believed in hope, where his only son
(through whom he was promised to be the fatter of a
mighty nation) was commanded to be offered up in
sacrifice.
Remark n.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 381
sacrifice. In which account, the sacred writer hath used
an expression which I supposed cloth intimate that he
understood the nature of the command to be, what I have
attempted to explain it. To this our Examiner says, No*
Had he thus understood it, he SHOULD have said, not
that Abraham received ISAAC, but that \\e received
CHRIST f mm the dead hi a Jigure. What? where tho
discourse \vas not concerning Christ, but Isaac ? Had,
indeed, the sacred writer been speaking of Abraham s
knowledge of Christ, something might have been said ;
but he is speaking of a very different thing, his faith In
God;- and onty intimates, by a forcible term, \vhafc ho
understood that action to be, which he gives, as an- in
stance of the most illustrious act of laith. I say, had
this been the case, stonetking might have been said ;
something, I mean, to keep him in countenance; yet
still, nothing to the purpose, as I shall now shew. The
transaction of the sacrifice of Christ, related to God.-
The figure of that transaction, in the command to offer
Isaac, related (according to my interpretation) to Abraham.
Now, it was God who received Christ : as it \vat>
Abraham who received Isaac. To tell us then, that
(according to my interpretation) it SHOULD have, been
said, that Abraham received CHRIST from the dead in a
jigure, is only shewing us that he knows just as much 01
logical expression, as of theological argumentation*. It
is true, could he shew the expression improper, in the
sense I understand it, he would then speak more to the
purpose; and this, to. do him justice, he would fain be
at. For thus it follows, u For (says he) Christ it was
(according to your interpretation) that was received
f from the dead in a figure, by Isaac his representative,
" who really came alive from the Mount, if the read*
ing had been, not lv zsrapaSoAjf, but *K wa^aCoA^, it
would have suited your notion ; for it might properly
have been said, that Isaac came alive from the Mount
" as a figure, or that he might be a figure, of the resur-
" rection of Christ! p. 147. Miserable chicane ! As,
on the one hand, I might say with propriety, that CHRIST
was received from the dead in ajigure, i. e. #y a repre-
* See here again the learned writer of the letter abov2raen-
tioued, p. 4.
tentative:
382 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part IL
tentative : so could I not as well say, on the other, that
ISAAC was received from the dead in a figure, i. e. AS a
representative ? For he, sustaining the person of Christ 7 -
\vho was raised from the dead, might in a figure, i. e.
as tli at person, be said to be received: yet this our
Examiner denies, and says, the Apostle SHOULD have
said that Abraham received CHRIST, and not ISAAC.
" But (says he) if the reading had been not iv Ilapa^A?,
" but $ n<xp<*oAri/, it would have suited YOUR notion."
And the reason he gives is this : " For it might properly
" have been said that Isaac came alive from the Mount
" as a figure, or THAT HE MIGHT BE a figure, of the
" resurrection of Christ." Amazing ! he says this would
have suited my notion ; and the reason he gives shews it
suits only his own > which is that the exactness of the
resemblance, not the declaration of the giver of the com
mand, made it a figure. This is the more extraordinary,
as I myself had shewn that the old Latin translator had
fumed the words into ix PARABOLAM instead of in
parabola for this very reason, that he understood the
command in the sense our Examiner contends for ; viz.
That Isaac, by the resemblance of the actions, MIGHT
BE, or might become a figure, c. But the nature (say I)
of the command being unknown, these words of the
epistle have been understood to signify only that Isaac,
was a type of Christ, in the same sense, that the Old
Tabernacle in this epistle is called a type rW IIAPABOAH,
that is, a thing designed by the Holy Spirit, to have both
a present signj/icancy and a future. IrUck amounts but
just to this, that Abraham receiving Isaac safe from
Mount Moriah, in the manner Scripture relates, he,
thereby, became a type. An ancient interpretation, as
appears by the reading of the vulgate Latin. Unde cum
ix PARABOLAM accepit, for in parabola, as it ought to
have been translated, conformably to the Greek *.
XII. But to return to our Examiner; who, after all
this expence of criticism, owns, at last, that " a reason
will be wanting, why instead of speaking the fact as it
" really was. that Isaac came alive from the Mount, the
" Apostle chose rather to say (what was not really the
* Divine Legal, vol. vi. pp. 27, 28.
" case)
Remark 12.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 383
" case) that Abraham received him from the dead"
Well ; and have not I given a reason ? And what then ?
For what did I commence Examiner, if I may nt have
reasons of my own? They follow thus, " If Isaac did
" not die (as it is certain he did not) Abraham could not
! receive him from the dead. And yet the Apostle says,
" he received him from the dead. The clearing up
" this difficulty, will shew the true sense of the passage."
pp. 147, 148. What, will the clearing up a difficulty of
his own making, discover the true sense of another man s
writing? This is one of his new improvements in logic ;
in which, as in arithmetic, he has introduced a rule of
false, whereby an unknown truth is to be ferretted out by
a known untruth. For there is none of this difficulty in
the sacred text; it is not there, as in our Examiner s ex
pression, said by the apostle, simply, that Abraham
received Isaac from the dead, but that he received him,
from thence, ix A FIGURE, or under the assumed per
sonage of Christ. Now if Christ died, then he, who
assumed his personage, in order to represent his passion
and resurrection, might, surely, well be said to be received
from the dead in ajigitrc. A wonderful difficulty, truly !
and as wonderfully solved, by a conundrum ! But with
propriety sufficient : for as a real difficulty requires sense
and criticism, an imaginary one may well enough bo
managed by a quibble. Because the translators of St.
Marti % gospel have rendered Iv -&OLX srapaSoA?, by with
what comparison shall we compare it, therefore iv -sry^K^ox^
in the text in question, he says, signifies COMPARATIVELY
SPEAKING. But no words can shew him equal to his
own " The Apostle does not say simply and absolutely,
i that Abraham received Isaac from the dead ; but that
he received him from the dead, tv -ar&pxZoXy, m a
:( parable" See here now ! Did not I tell you so ?
There was no difficulty all this while : the sentence only
opened to the right and left to make room for his objec
tion : and now closes again. " It was not simply said 1
No. " But that he received him iv TrapxSoXy, hi a
hi parable, i. e. in a comparison, or by comparison. Thus
4 the word is used Mark iv. 30. Whereiuiio shall we
; liken the kingdom of Gad, or with what COMPARISON
ii] shall we compare it. The meaning
" ihen
384 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II,
* then may be, that Abrahams receiving Isaac alive
" (alter his death was denounced) by the revocation of
" the command, was AS JF HE HAD received him from
" the dead. Thus several interpreters understand the
" place. Or it may be, as others will have it, that the
" Apostle here refers to the birth of Isaac , which was
" [lywap&ttXn] COMPARATIVELY SPEAKING, a receiving
" him from the dead; his father being old, and his
" mother past the age of child-bearing, on which account
" the Apostle styles them both dead. Which interpreta-
" tion, I the rather approve, because it suggests the
" proper grounds of Abrahams faith." pp. 148, 149.
He says, h wa^aSox*? signifies in or by comparison ; and
that the word is so used in St. Mark ; to prove which,
he quotes the English translation. Now I must take
the liberty to tell him, that the translators were mistaken ;
and he with them. riapaSoxJ, in St Mark, is not used
in the sense of a similitude or comparison, but of spara
ble. The Ancients had two ways of illustrating the
things they inforced ; the one was by a parable, the
other by a simple comparison or simile. How the latter
of these arose out of the former, I have shewn in The
D wim Legation *. Now, I say, that both these modes
of illustration are referred to in the text of St. Mark ;
which should have been translated thus, To what shall
we COMPARE the kingdom of God, or with what PARA
BLE shall we illustrate or parabolize it o/Aotwtr&y*^
fira^aSaXoyxsv. So that the latter part of the verse is not -
a repetition, as the translators seem to have thought, of
the former; so frequent in the Scripture style; but, both
together, express two different and well-known modes of
illustration.
But now suppose, lv TSTOL& tirAfwS^S had signified with
what comparison : How comes it to pass the lv suzpoc.Zorf
should signify by comparison, or as it were, or COMPA
RATIVELY SPEAKING? In plain truth, his critical
analogy has terminated in a pleasant blunder. How so ?
says he. Nay tis true there s no denying, but that
speaking by comparison is comparatively speaking : and,
it men will needs put another sense upon it, who can help
that? -\Vas it a time for our Author, when he was
.. * Yol.iv, p. 138.
writing
Remark 12.] OCCASIONAL REFACTIONS. 385
writing eliminations) to spoil a good argument by nicely
enquiring into the seme of an expression ? He left it to
those whom it more concerned, to tell the reader, that
comparatively speaking does not at present (whatever it
might heretofore) signify, speaking by a comparison , but
speaking loosely and incorrectly; which sense of the
phrase, I suppose, arose from the comparisons of such
kind of Writers as our Examiner ; that were generally
observed to be lame and inaccurate. However, though
I am no jrreat friend to the innocence of error. I should
O /
have been ready endugh to think it a simple blunder, had
I not observed him to go into it with much artful prepa
ration ; a circumstance by no means characteristic of that
genuine turn of mind, which is quick and sudden, and
over head and cars in an instant: but he begins with ex
plaining, /// a comparison, by by comparison : in which,
you just get the first glimpse, as it were, of an enascent
equivocation; and this [by comparison] is presently,
aferwards, turned into, as it were, or, as if he had , and
then, comparatively speaking brings up .the rear, and
closes the criticism three deep. But he "approves of
the interpretation" which makes the author of the epistle
to the Hebrews " refer to the birth of Isaac, because it
" suggests (he says) the PROPER grounds of Abrahams
" faith/ Till now I thought the proper grounds of
Abrahams faith (as of every other man s) had been his
knowledge of the nature of the Godhead, one of whose
attributes is veracity. No, says this great philosopher
and divine ; his proper grounds were these, that God
had told him truth once already. And now had he not
reason, after all this, to turn to me, and with an air of
triumph and gaiety to accost me in the following manner?
" It is not to be supposed, Sir, that you are a stranger
" to these interpretations, which are in every body s
i( hands; but as if nothing of this sort had ever been
" thought of, you pass it over with absolute neglect; and
" will needs have it, that the Apostle was full of vo r :R
" ideas ; for no other reason that I can see, than because
" you are full of them yourself." pp. 148, 9. Indeed,
Sir, comparatively speaking, I was much a stranger to
them. For what were they, till seen in the pleasant
light in which you have placed them ? 1 will Only say
VOL. XL C c on*
386 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [PartIL
one thing to your argument (as I now hasten to your
Vvit) ; which is, that, had yeu known the force of the word
xo/x <r:*I0, iii the text, you had known that the deadness of
Sarah s womb could not be meant. But, since you love
the authority of interpreters *, I will give you what the
great ScaUger says on the words ly wapaoA? ; " In imagine
" quadam resurrectionis : quia qui immolation! addictus-
* erat, & postea liberatus, videtur tanquam resurrexisse.
1 Hnec est Calvitii expositio, longe omnium optima."
But, says- our Examiner, u you will needs have it that
" the Apostle was full of YOUH ideas." My. ideas, inti
mates ideas discovered by me ;. and to suppose the Apostle
full of these, would have been, I confess, a little extraor
dinary. The tiuthis, I said nothing so silly. I said,
THESE ideas. But what then? It was necessary, per
haps, to the- wit that follows " for no other reason, that
;<c I can see, than because you are full of them yourself."
And shall I be angry with him for this ? Surely, no.
I can easily forgive the false quotation, for the sake of so-
much wit. For, as Siephano says to his viceroy on th&~
like occasion, " I thank thee for that jest; tis an ex-
" ccllent pass of pate : and wit shall not go unrewarded
" while I am king of this island."
XIII. Our Examiner goes on : " The las-t step (say&
" he) you take in this argument, is to raise objections
" against the common account of this history ; in order
Y to draw an inference from thence, that your account
" must be the true one ; and this is what I shall next.
:i consider." p. 149. He had said before, that having
struck my corner -st07ie> and unsettled my foundation, he
had stopt me short, and put a period to my argument.
.But il seems, somehow or other, I had recovered myself,
and pushed it forward. Eor now he talks of (tuothcr
tep I had taken in this argument. Happily indeed, both
for himself and me, it is the last. " You tell us then
" (says he) that the command, as, it hath been hitherto
( understood occupies a place in Abraham s history^
V that, according to our ideas of things, it cannot proper I if
" have. The command is supposed to be given as a trial
: * The Irarned Letter Writer above -mentioned gives another good
reason, and produces another good authority, against this fancy.
Se p. 48.
" only-
Remark 13.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 387
" : only. Now when the great Searcher^ of- HearisJ[$
" pleased to try any of his servants, either for example-
<c sake, or for some other end as in this he condescends
" to the manner of men so, we may be assured, he
" would accommodate himself to their manner likewise,
" in the most material circumstance of the trial. But
" amongst men, the agent is always tried before he is set
" on work, or rewarded^and not after on the contrary^
" this trial was made after all Abraham s a \-ork was done ;
" and all God*s mercies received- nay, what is still more-*
" strange, after he had been once tried, already. We
" must needs conclude therefore, that the command was
" not (according to the common notion) a trial only,
" because it comes after all Gad s dispensations. Yet,
" as the sacred text assures us, it was a trial, and as a
" trial necessarily precedes the employment or reward of
" the person tried , we must needs conclude, that as no
* employment, so some benefit followed this trial. Now
" on our interpretation, a benefit, as we shall see, did
" follow. We have reason therefore to conclude this
" interpretation to be the true" pp. 149, 150. To this
he- answers, "You lay it down here as the common in-
" terpretation, that the command to Abraham to offer
" up his son was given as a trial ONLY; WHICH is NOT
tf TRUE." Why? Because "the common opinion is,
" that God s intention in this command was not only to
" try Abraham, but also to PREFIGURE the sacrifice of
" Christ" p. 150.*." Excellent! I speak here of .the
command ?, being given. But given to whom ? To all
the faithful, for whose sake it was recorded? or to
Abraham only, for whose sake itxvas revealed? Does
not the very subject confine , my meaning to this latter
sense? Now, to Abraham, I say (according tQrthe com
mon opinion) it was green as a trial only. To the
faithful, if you will, as a pre figuration. If, to extricate
himself from his confused or sophistical reasoning, he
will say it prefigured to Abraham likewise ; he then
gives up all he has been contending for, against my in*
terpretation, viz. that Abraham knew this to be a repre
sentation of the great sacrifice of Christ : I call Ills
* Here again the learned Writer in his Letter to dnr Examiner,
" |>. 14, very clearly exposes this sophism.
c c 2 reasoning"
3 S8 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [PartlL
reasoning confused or sophistical* Sec, if he be not
obliged to me Ibr my indecision. Where I speak of the
common opinion, I say, the command is supposed to be
GIVEN as a trial only. He thinks fit to tell LDC, I sen/
not true. But when he comes to prove it, he changes
the terms of the question tlius v " For the common
" opinion is that GOD S IXTE^TIOX in this command
" "was," fyc\ Now the purpose of God s giving a com
mand to Abraham, for his sake, might be one thing; and
his general intention, in that command, as it concerned
the whole of his dispensation, another. I leave it there
fore to the reader to determine, whether our Examiner
changed the terms of the question, by design oy ignorance.
But 1 have another reason why he should have allowed
me, in this place at least, not to have been mistaken.
And that is, because a great man (whose authority is
deservedly the fiighest in the learned world!, and which
our Examiner havS more reasons than one to pay a due;
regard to) is in the same sentiments; and takes it for
granted, as we shall see by the words that follow, that
tlic common opinion is that God s giving thk command
was " only to try Abraham" " I was (says he) under a
"difficulty [a case, which, I dare say r Ecver happened
" ta our Examiner] to account for this action on the foot
" of its being a trial only*." But to prove further that
I said not true, when I said, that, according ts the com
mon interpretation the command icas given for a trial*
wily; he observes, that I myself had owned that the
wscmblanct to Christ s sacrifice icas so strong, that w-
^crpreters could never overlook it. liow much this is to
the purpose, unless we altaw Abrahams himc ledge of the.
figure, has been seen already. Nor does he appear ta
be less conscious of its im pertinence ; therefore, instead
of attempting to inforce it to the purpose for which he
quotes it, he turns, all on a sudden, to shew that it makes
nothing to the purpose for which / employed it. But
let us follow this Proteus through all bis windings.
" The resemblance (says he), no doubt, is- very strong:
<c but how this corroborates your sense of the command,
" I do riot see. Your sense is, that it was an actual
" information given to Abraham, of the sacrifice of
* Div. Leg. vol. vi. p. 5
" Christ.
14.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 389
" Christ. But to prefigure, and to hiforni, are different
" tilings. Tliis transaction might prefigure, and decs
" P r( jfig ltrc 9 tne sacrifice of Christ ; whether Abraham
" kneic any thing of the sacrifice of C/tirixt or ao. For
* it does not follow, that because a thing is prefigured ;
" therefore it must be seen and icpderstew, at the tune
" when it is prefigured" pp. 150, 151. Could it have
been believed that these words should immediately follow
ail argument, whose force, that little it has, is tbundcd
on the principle, That to prefigure and to inform are NOT
different things? Bu retrospects, with bad reckoners,
are troublesome things. At this rate, 1 should soon find
my task double. l shall therefore take his accounts as
they lie. And if they betray themselves, why so. He
Says then> u he does not see how this CORROBORATFS
" my sense, because to prefigure and to inform are dif-
" terent things." It was tlrat very difference which mad t
me call it a corroborotion of my sense. Had there been
no difference, I should not have called it a corroborat w/i
of my sense, but my very sense itself. As to the obser
vation that follows, and the explanation of it, all he says
is very true. But a truth the most unlocked for ; i . Be
cause it is a truth I myself had much inculcated through
out The Divine Legation. 2. Because it is a full answer
to all he h^s himself urged in the body of his pamphlet
for a future state s being known or taught to the Jewish
people. 3. Because (as is hinted at above) it is as full
an answer to the very question we are upon, tv*. Whe
ther, according to the common opinion, the command
was given only to try Abraham ; or whether both to try
and to prefigure, &c. Now I was there speaking of thi
command, as given to Abraham. Therefore to prejigm\:
Could not be one end, because it was not to inform.
XIV. But we are yet only in the skirts of his argu
ment, on which, indeed, I have set too long. " Thub
much (says he} being observed to PitEvfcNT confusion/
p. ijl. This puts me in mind of the constable, \v he-
being called in to appease a quarrel, first knocked dow.
every one he met; and then said, " Thus much to prc
vent disorder." For the reader sees all the cotifusion
of his own making ; and that, I have reason to ienr, will
keep rising by every new obiervation. ** Let us now
c c 3 (says
390 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part -II.
(says he) attend to. your argument." p. 151. Indeed it
is time ; and so, without more ceremony, take it. One
qf mv proofs against the common interpretation was,
tha_t according to that, there was no reward subsequent
to the trial. To which he answers, " But how can you
" prove that, according to the common interpretation,
" there -^vas no reward subsequent to the trial?" p. 151.
How shaij I be able to" please him? Before he was
pffended that I supposed the author of the book of
Genesis might omit relating the mock of a fact, when lie
had good reason * so to do. Here, because I suppose
?io fact, from there being pone recorded, w-beix no reason
hindered, he is as captious on this side. - " How will you
prove it?" (says he). From, the silence of the historian,
say I, when nothing hindered him from speaking. Well,
but he will shew it fairly recorded in Scripture, that there
we re r eic a rds subsequent to the trial. This, indeed^ is to
the purpose: " Abraham (says he} lived a great many
" years after that transaction happened. . lie lived to,
" dispose of his son Isaac in marriage, and to see his,
"seed. He lived to be married himself to another wife,
" and to have several children by her ; he had not THEN
" received all God s mercies, not were all God s dispen-
" sations towards him at an end; and it, is to be remem-
" bered that it is expressly said of Abraham^ Gen. xxiv. i .
" (a long time after the transaction in question) that God
// had blessed , him in ail things" pp. 151, 152. The
question here. is, of the * extraordinary and uncommon
rewards bestowed by God on Abraham ; and he decides
upon it, by an enumeration of the ordinary and common.
And, to fill up the measure of these blessings, he makes
the? marrying ; of another wife one. Though unluckily,
this wife at last proves but a concubine ; as appears
plainly from the place where she is mentioned. But let
me ask him seriously ; Could he, indeed, suppose me to
mean (though he attended "not, to the drift of the argu
ment) that God immediately withdrew all liis favours
from the Father of the Faithful, after the last great
reward he conferred upon him, though he lived many
years afte r? " I can hardly, I -"confess^ account for this,
any otherwise than from a certain turn of mind which I
. *, See the reason assigned, Div. Leg. Book vi. 5.
don t
Remark 14-] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 391
don t care to give a name to : but which, the habit of
answering has made so common that nobody either mis
takes it, or -is much scandalized at it. Though I, for my
part, should esteem a total ignorance of letters a much
-happier lot than such a learned depravity. " But this is
snot all," (says he.) No? I am sorry for it! Twa4
enough in conscience. " What surprizes me most is,
" that you should argue so WEAKLY", as if the reward
"" of good men had respect to this lite only. Be it, that
" Abraham had received all God s mercies; and that all
" God s dispensations towards him, in this world, were
" at an end ; was there not a life yet to come, with
" respect to which the whole period of our existence
4i here is to be considered as a state of trial ; and where
** we are all of us to look for that reward of our virtues
" which we very often fail of in this?" p. 152* Well,
if it was NOT ALL, we find, at least, twas all of, a piece..
For as before he would sophistically obtrude upon us
common, for extraordinary rewards -, so here (true to the
genius of his trade) he puts common for extraordinary
trials. The case, to which I applied my argument, was
this; God, determining to select a chosen people from
the loins of Abraham, would manifest to the world thalt
this patriarch was worthy of the distinction shewn him,
by having his faith found superior to the hardest trials.
In speaking of these trials, I said, that the command to
offer Isaac was the last. " No, says the Examiner, that
" cannot be, for, with respect to a life to come, the
* whole period of our existence here, is to be considered
as a state of trial." And so again, (says he) with
to the reward^ which you pretend, in the order
x)f God s dispensations, should follow the trial: Why?
We are to " look after it in another trorld. -"-Holy*
Scripture records the history of one, to whom God only
promised (in tl^e clear and .obvious sense) temporal bles
sings. It records, .that these temporal blessings were*
dispensed. One species .of which were extraordinary)
rewards after extraordinary trials. In the most extraor
dinary of all, no reward followed : this was my difficulty.
See here, how he has cleared it up. I would willingly
believe the best : yet the bringing in a future state (no
more to c) eating up the difficulty than m future par Ha-
c c 4 went)
392 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II.
menf) look# so very like, what the logicians call, argur
incntum ad invidiam, that I don t know whether I shall
bring the reader to believe with IDC. \Vhat surpri/cs
ine most (says he) is, that you should argue so \vcajdy."
// cr//-//y, does he say r Let him speak out ; and rathev
bay wickedly ; \vhich is indeed what he would have the
reader understand, though in tenderness he prefers $
softer word : for he roundly asserts, that / have argued
as if the reward of good men had respect to this lift
only. I had said, indeed, frequently said, that many
good men had no respect to any other reward ; but thai
the reward of good men had respect to this life only 7 I
riot only never said, but even abhor the thoughts of.
I must therefore call upon my Examiner, for this jfotU tlj
*im0, to prove that I ever argued in that manner, or
pain of passing for a calumniatpr.
XV. But he seems to be sensible of his bad argu
ment ; whatever might be his intention in using it ; and
>vould save all by another fetch : for the weakest are
ever most fruitful in expedients. " And what (says he)
" if, after all this, the wisdom of God should have
" thought fit, that this very man, whom he had singled
" out to be an eminent example of piety to all genera-
<c tions, should, at the very close of his life, give evidence
" of it, by an instance that exceeded all that had gone
" before ; that he might be a pattern of patient suffering,
" even unto the end? Would there not be SENSE in
" such a supposition? 7 p. 153. In truth, I doubt not,
as he has put it: and I will tell him, why. Abraham
was not a mere instrument to stand for an example only,
but a moral agent likewise ; and to be dealt with as such.
Now r though, as he stands for an example, we may admit
of as many trials for patient suffering as our good-
natured Examiner thinks fitting yet, as a moral agent,
it is required (as I have proved from the method of
God s dealing with his servants, recorded in sacred his
tory) that .each trial be attended with some work done,,
or some reward conferred. -But these two circumstances
in Abrahams character, our Examiner perpetually con
founds. He supposes nothing to be clone for j4hrtlh<ftri*$
awn sake, ; but every thing for the examples sake. Yet,
" the good cause of answering require, he could us
Hem. 1 5. iG.l OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 393
^asily suppose the contrary. And that I do him no
wrong, [ will here give the reader a remarkable instance
of this dexterity, in the counter- exercise of his arms,
In p. 150, of these Considerations, (he says) " IT DOES
" NOT FOLLOW, that, because a tiling is prefigured, thtre-
" fore it must be seen and understood AT THE TI.MK
" when it is prefigured." Yet in the body of the pam
phlet, pp. 112, 1 13, having another point to puzzle ; hg
says (on my observing that a future state and resurrec
tion were not national doctrines till the time of the
Maccabees) " he knows I \vill say they had these doc-.
" trines from the prophets yet the prophets were dead
" two hundred years before. But if the prophets were
dead, their writings were extant " And what then? is
" it LIKELY that the sons should have learnt from the
" dead prophets, what t|ie lathers could not learn iforn
" the living ? Why could not the Jews learn this doc-
,**" *O .
* trine from THE VERY FIRST, as well as their posterity
" at fhe distance of ages afterwards r " In the first case
>ve find he expressly says, it docs not follow ; in the
second, he as plainly supposes, that it does.
XVI. ." But there arc other objections besides this
" (he says) to my interpretation of the command : as
( first it doth not appear how Abraham could collect
" from this transaction, that Clirist was to be offered up
(< as. a sacrifice. I can easily understand that converse
" may be maintained by actions as well as by words*
" What you -have said upon that subject*, c. no doubt
" is very just : and the instances you have produced from
" Scripture, where actions have been used as foreshowing
" the determinations of Providence, are beyond all ex-
" ception. But whereas you have considered the action
" of Abraham in offering up his son as a case parallel to
" these ; it differs from them all in a very material cir~
" cumstance, viz. that nothing is here added by way of
" explanation to sheio the import of it. When Zcdekiah
^ made him horns of iron, he said, Tuvsshalt thou puxk
f the Syrians, i Kings xxii. 11. When Jeremiah, was
" bid to take a linen girdle and hide it in the hole of a
( rock, c. the explanation immediately follows \Thu&
tt mlth the Lord, AFTEI^THIS MANNER wilt I mar the
* piv. Leg. Book iv. 4.
* pride.
394 REMARKS OX SEVERAL [Part II.
tl pride of Judah, Sfc. Jeremiah xiii. i 9. And so it is
" in every instance you have produced ; which I need
" not particularly prove, because you have confessed it*.
" And no doubt such explanations, attending the trans-
" action, were always necessary for the information of
" the prophet; because though actions are as expressive
" of itiMs as words are; yet it is on supposition that there
" is either common use, or special intimation, to deter-
" mine ichat ideas .mch or such actions import ; other-
" wise nothing can be understood. You will not pretend,
" 1 suppose, that by any common usage of those times,
" this transaction was significative of the saciirice of
" Christ ; therefore there must have been some special
" intimation attending the transaction, and determining
* it to this meaning, if it was the intention of Providence,
" hereby to give Abraham any such information ; of
lt which special intimation since nothing appears, it can
" never appear that any such information was intended.
" The presumption lies the other way : because if any
"such information had been intended; it is natural to
" think that the explanation would have been recorded
" with the transaction, as it is in all other such like
" cases." pp. 153, 154. This, indeed, stands unequalled,
even by himself. In The -Divine Legation, I had shewn
the nature of this significative action here commanded-,
I had shewn how it agreed, and how it differed, from
others of the .same kind I had shewn how Abrahani
jnust necessarily understand the import of it. Yet here,
the Examiner comes over me with an objection, that
implies a profound ignorance of every thing I had said.
I would fain instruct him ; but if he chuses rather to be
shamed ; why, every man to his taste. He says, I con
sider the information by action /;/ the case of Abraham
as parallel to the information given to, or by the prophets
Zcdeldah and Jeremiah, for the instruction of the people :
" Whereas it differs from them in a very material cir-
" cumstance ; namely, that nothing is here added t>y way
*- c of explanation, to shew the import of it." Ilcar, now,
wircther I consider it as parallel or different having
spoken of those significative actions done by the prophets,
&t God s command, for the people s information, I go on
* Di v, Leg. vol.vi.p. 25.
thus,-
Remark! 6.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 395
thus, By these actions the prophets instructed the people
in the will of God but where God TEACHES THE PRO
PHET, and., in compliance to the custom of that thm\
condescends to the same mode of instruct urn, then the
significative action is- generally changed into a TMYY/;/,
cither natural or extraordinary- / say generally, hid
not always. Sometimes, though the information was only
for the prophet, God TV oit Id SET HIM UPON an expressive
action, whose obvious meaning conveyed the intelligence
proposed or sought*. I therefore call upon him here
again the jHit|j Cimc, to prove that I considered them
as parallel ; or else to make his retractation. He says,
" he supposes, I will not pretend that, by any com-
"ririon usage of those times, this transaction was signifi-
? cative of the sacrifice of Christ." All that I pretended
to, I delivered in very plain terms, in the following
manner. From the view given of Abraham s history,
we sec, how all God s revelations to him, to this last [bf
the Command] ultimately relate to that mystic funda
mental promise, made to him on his first vocation, that
in him should all families, of the earth be blessed. God
opens the scheme of his dispensations, by exact and regu
lar steps We see, throughout, a gradual opening and
jit preparation for some further Revelation, which r-
vould be jio other than that of the Redemption the com*
fiction of the whole of God s economy Ihit the only,
-remaining one recorded Is the command to offer Isaac.
O *-i/
: Now the happiness or redemption of mankind, promised
to come through Abraham, could not but make him more
and more inquisitive into t lie manner of its being brought
about, in proportion as he found himself to be more and
more personally concerned^ as the instrument of so great
a blessing. le have shewn it to be the custom of anti
quity to instruct by actions as well as words that God
himself, in compliance to a general custom, -used this way
of information. Nothing could be conceived more appo
site to convey the information than this very action ;
ABRAHAM DESIRED EARNESTLY to be let into the
mystery of the Redemption, and God, to instruct him
said, Take now tiiy son, c. The duration of the action
\ Div. Leg, vol. iv. p. 134,
was
3yC REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II,
was the same as between Christ s death and resurrection,
&c*. Could Abraham now, after this, be any more iu
doubt, tliat this command was to prefigure the sacrifice
of Christ ; than JKzckiel, that what he saw in the cham
bers jof imagery was to represent the idolatries of his
countrymen ? But our Examiner artfully concealed,
that I had, all along, supposed from the proofs given,
that this Revelation was " made at Abraham* earnest
* request:" and then asks, Whether " by any common
4i usage this transaction was significative of the sacrifice
" of Christ" If not, he says, " there must have been
" some special intimation determining it to this meaning:
" of which, since nothing appears, it can never appear
-** that any such information was intended. The prer
" sumption lies the other way, because if any such inti-
" mation had been intended, it is natural to think, tlie
" explanation would have been recorded with the trans-
" action, as it is in ALL other such like cases/ Here
-again, he honestly conceals from his reader, that I had
given two reasons, why the explanation was not recorded,
The one arising from this species of information; the
other, from the nature of the thing informed of. The
first was, that the nar rathe of such a converse by action
was not, in its nature, so intelligible or obvious, t/s that
where God is shewn conversing by action to the prophets,
in the, several instances before green. And the reason is
this : those informations, as tfay are given to the pro
phets for the instruction of the people, have, necessarily^
in the course of the history, their explanations annexed
ut the information to Abraham being soldi/ for his own
use, there was. no room for that formal explanation ;
which made the commanded actions, performed by the
prophets, so clear and intelligible \. And, to illu**t^ate
the truth of the observation, I gave an example, in ,the
relation of Jacob s wrestling with the angel. WUich
{like this of the command) was an information by action,
for JGCODS sole use ; and therefore has the same o". jscu-
rk?v, as not having its, explanation annexed. I have
shewn what that information was. And will he, say,
(because the explanation was not recorded, that this was
* Ste Div.Lec:. VU I. vi. pp. 17. & scq. f Ibid. pp. <J.> 20*.
fhe
Remark *;.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 397
the history of a simple wrestling, as that was of a
commanded human sacrifice ? Or will he rather chuse to
retract what he had said, that where it is an> information
by action, the explanation is always recorded in such like ,
cases? . .
The second reason I gave why the explanation was not
recorded, arose from the nature of the thing informed
of. The knowledge of God s future dispensation, in the
redemption, of mankind, by the death of his Son, revealed
us a singular favour to the Father of the Faithful, teas
(say I) what could, by no means, be communicated to the
Hebrew people, when Moses wrote his history for their
usc f , because they being then to continue long under a,
carnal economy, this knowledge of i lie end of the law.
would have greatly indisposed them to that dispensation!
with which. God, in his infinite wisdom, thought Jit f&
exercise tftern*."
XVII. But he has not learnt his trade for nothing
Catch an Answerer without his salvo, if you can. You
may trust him to take care that it shall never he said, he
had passed over, in absolute silence, the answer given
above ; he therefore subjoins- " To this you reply, that
" the information to Abraham being soldi/ for his own
>t we, cmd which could, by no means, be communicated to
" the Hebrew people when Moses wrote his history ; there
" was no room for the forma I explanation which made the,
" commanded actions perforined bij the prophets so clear and
intelligible" p. 155." To this (says he) you reply."
To what? To his objections against my interpretation;
which are tliesc " That nothing is added by wav of
" explanation that this transaction was not, by any
<s common usage of those times, significative of the sacri-
" lice of Christ that if any such information had been
" intended, it is natural to think that the explanation-
" would have been recorded with the transaction." Had
he given but a common attention to what I wrote, he
would have seen, that the answer, he here quotes from
me, was a reply to quite a different thing; namely, why
the sacred writer d>d not, for the information of the,
Jewish church, give an explanation of tht signi/icath-e
* Jpiv. Leg. voLvi. p. 24.
action.
REMARKS ON SEVElUL [Part IT.
action. In the m ean time, the reply I made to his three
objections, he still reserves in profound silence. I have
quoted it above, and it is in substance this, That where
the commanded action is for the information of the prophet
only, there no explanation accompanies it. That the
command being given at Abraham s earnest request to be
further acquainted with the mystery of the Redemption^
he must needs see (though the transaction was not, by any
common usage of those times, significative of the sacrifice
of Christ} the true and real import of it. 1 had said;
that our Examiner could not have been thus grossly
mistaken, had he given a common attention to what he
saw written. But the reader may have reason to suspect
something worse, when he observes, that, in quoting this,
which he calls my reply, he makes me say, that, " as
" the information was given solely for Abraham"^ use,
" there \vas no room for that formal explanation, WHICH
" MADE THE COMMANDED ACTIONS PER1-ORMED BY
" THE PROPHETS SO CLEAR AND INTELLIGIBLE.
\Vords so devoid of all purpose, to the argument he pre
tends I wa there upon, that, had I used them, or any
other like them, I should have been ashamed, after such
impertinence, to have appeared again in print : yet we
iind they were to our Examiner s purpose to bestow upori *
me ; in order to persuade the reader, that this was really
a reply to his objections.
But be the reply what you please, if it will but give
him an opportunity to ansiccr, to examine, to force a
trade, it is enough for him. lie goes on, therefore, in
this manner, " But this which you offer, as a solution of
:i the difficulty, is, WITH ME, A NEW OBJECTION."
See here no\v, do I belie the man ? " For if the know-
" ledge of Chris fs sacrifice was not to be communicated ;
i to what purpose was it clearly revealed to Abraham?
" You say, that the Jews, being to continue long under
" a carnal economy ; this knowledge rcould hare greatly
" indisposed them to this dispensation. But why was
" it then communicated to Abraham ? For hh sole
"use, you say." p. 155. Here he asks me a question,
then quotes my answer to it: and, not liking that, asks
the quebtK-n over again ; and then makes an answer for it
himsclij which, he thought, he could manage better.
13 lor
Remark 18.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 399
For let the reader take notice, that the last ani wer is not
mine. I had talked very impertinently indeed, had I
given it as a reason why the revelation was made to
Abraham, and not given to the Jews, that it was for
Abraham s sole use. I had proved, indeed, from fact,
that it was for his sole use: but the reason I gave r for its
not being communicated, was the unfit circumstances
and disposition of the Jewish people to receive it. But
what then? this which he calls the answer does its
business; as that which he called the reply had done
before it; and serves him for a handle to a NEW
OBJECTION.
And thus he proceeds " What use ? will you be
" pleased to tell us? Was there any good use that
" Abraham could make of this knowledge, which the rest
u of the people of God might not have made of it as K ell
** as he ? Or if it was unfit for every body else, was it
" not unfit for Abraham too? p. 1/55. Amazing!
Had not I given it as the reason why it could not be
communicated to the Jewish people, that they were to>
continue long under a burthensomc carnal economy;
which, this knowledge would have tempted them to throw
off before the appointed time? and did this reason extend
to Abraham, who was never under that economy ?
XVIII. But he goes on "la short, Sir, I do not
* understand this doctrine (with which your whole Work
" much abounds) of revealing things clearly to patriarchs,
K and prophets, and leaders, as a special ravour to them-
" selves ; but to be kept as a secret from the rest of
K mankind." It is but too plain (as he says) " he does
" not understand it:" for which I can give no better
reason than its being Scripture-doctrine-, and not that of
sums and systems. Yet what he cannot understand, his
client Bishop Bull could, however : who (as he himself
informs us) asserts, " that there were Arcana in the
" Jewish theology, and consequently a twofold manner
" of teaching amongst them; one suited to vulgar appre-
" hensions ; the other to those who had made some
" proficiency in knowledge." E.raw. of Mr. W s second
Proposition, p. 125. So that I ascribe this rather to a
of memory than want of understanding.
"I have
400 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part IL
" I have been used (say she) to consider persons under
" this character, as appointed", not for themselves, but
" for others; and therefore to conclude that WHATEVER
a was clearly revealed to them, concerning God s dis- 1
" pensations, was so revealed, in order to be communi-
" cated toothers." pp. 15.5, 6. This is the old hacknied
sophism ; that, because persons act and arc employed for
others-, therefore they do nothing, or that nothing is done
for iJiemsehes. When (rod said, Shall 1 hide from
Abraham that thing whieh I do? was riot this said to,
:md for himself? But he sinks and flounders under this
false bottom, That wkatfflCF was clearly revealed to the
prophets, wtis so revealed, in or tier to be communicated to
others. Here then a little Scripture-doctrine will do him
no harm. Did Hoses (and this is a case in point) coin-
immicate all he knew to the Jew, concerning the Christian
dispcmcition > which the author of the JSftstJe to the
Hebrews tells us was clearly rrcealed to him in the
ilount? Priests (says he) that off er gifts according to
the law, who serve unto the example and shadow of
heavenly things, as Moses was admonished of God when
he was about to make the taberncle*\ Again, we find
that Ezeldel, on his being called upon his mission, saw,
what the author of EdcJus. calls the glorious vision ; and
had (as appear from the allegory of the roll of a book) a
full interpretation thereof. Yet, notwithstanding .all his
illumination, he was directed by God to speak so ob
scurely to the people, that he at length found cause to,
complain, Ah, Lord, they say of me, Doth he not speak
parables^? And now let him ask the prophets with the
same pertncss he is accustomed to examine me, H as-
there any good use you could make of your knowledge?,
that the people of God might not have made of it as
well as you ? But the same dispensation is alluded to,
and continued, under the kingdom of Christ And ins-
disciples asked him saying, What might this parable
be ? And he said, Unto you it is given to know the
mysteries of the kingdom of God: but to others, in
parables-, that seeing they might not see> and hearing
they might not understand-"^. And now, reader, shall.
I claim his promise ? " l^you can shew (says he) that
Heb..viii. 4, 5. t Ezek.xx. 49. I Lukeviii. 9, 10.
1 am
Remark 18.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 401
" I arn mistaken in this, pray do it, and I shall be obliged
" to you." For, you see, I Jiave taken him at his word.
And twas well I did; for it was no sooner out of his
mouth, than, as if he had repented (not of his candour,
but his confidence) he immediately cries, Hold and tells
me " I might have spared myself in asking another
" question, Why, if Revelations cannot le clearly re-
" corded, are they recorded at alL\ p. 156. But,
. great Defender of the Faith of the ancient Jewish.
, church! I asked that very question, because the answer to
% it shews how much you are mistaken ; as the intelligent
reader, by this time, easily perceives. But why does he
say I might have spared that question ? because, " if a
" revelation is not clearly given, it cannot be clearly
". recorded/ Did I. say it could ? Or will he say, that
there are no reasons why a revelation, that is clearly
given, should be obscurely recorded ? To what purpose
then, was the observation made ? jYIade ! why to intro
duce another. For, with our equivocal Examiner, tiie<
. corruption of argument is the generation of observation.
" And 1. yet (says he) as you intimate, there may be
" reasons why an OBSCURE REVELATION should be re-
" corded, to wit, for the instruction of future ages, when
" the obscurity being cleared up by the event, it shall
" appear, that it was foreseen and foreordained in the
- u knowledge and appointment of God." p. 156.
What I intimated, was not concerning an obscure
revelation, but a revelation obscurely recorded. These
are two very di fib rent things, as appears from hence, that
the latter may be a clear revelation, the word being
relative to him to whom the revelation was made; but
tills is a peccadillo only. However, he approves the
reason of recording ; for that, thereby, " it shall appear,
" that IT was foreseen and foreordained by God." IT
what ? the obscure revelation, according to grammatical
construction : but,, in his English, I suppose, .IT stands
for the fact revealed. Well then : from the recording of
.
au obscure revelation, he says it will appear, when the
foretold fact happens, that it was foreseen and preordain
ed by God. This too he tells the reader I intimated ,
but, if tiie reader will take my word, I never intimated
any thin ^ so foolish. For every fact, whether prefigured
Pii and
402 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II.
and foretold, or not prefigured and foretold, must needs
have been foreseen and preordained by God. Now,
whether we are to attribute this to exactness, or to in
accuracy of expression, is hard to say. If to the former,
it is to be considered as one of his arts, to get to a con
sequence which he immediately afterwards endeavours
to deduce from it ; which is, " that, as well on his sense
" of the command, as on mine, a dependency between
" the two dispensations may be deduced." And it is
certain, that if that dependency arises from God s fore
knowledge of the fact, he is much ia the right; but that
will be seen by and by. On the other hand, if it be an
inaccuracy, as I am rather inclined to think ; then it is
plain he must mean something else ; and that something
might, perhaps, be this ; that, from such a record, a real
connexion might be proved between the Old and Ne\v
Testament, arising from the EVIDENCE that God, in this
commanded action, did INTEND to prefigure the sacrifice
of Christ. Just before, he had said, " he desired not
" to be mistaken. 1 p. 156. But this, let me tell him, is an
unreasonable request, unless he desired too to be under
stood. And that he desires not this, is evident from his
perpetual equivocations. However, we presume, we have
here insinuated ourselves into his meaning. But if the-
reader now should ask how this makes for the point to
be proved, namely, that " I might have spared myself in
" asking the question, If 7 hy, if revelations cannot be
" clearly recorded, are they recorded at all ?" I must
tell him, and let him not be surprised, that it was not
designed to have any thing to do with the point to be
proved, at all ; but only to produce or give birth to
another OBSERVATION ; begot, as he well expresses it,
UPON the foregoing putrid argumentation.- " UPON this
* c principle (stiijs he) you must give me leave to OBSERVE,
" that the transaction in question will have the same
" efficacy to shew, the dependency between the two
" dispensations. Whether Abraham had thereby any
" information of the sacrifice of Christ or not." p. 156.
This, indeed, is saying something. And, could he prove
it, would be depriving my interpretation of one of its
principal uses. Let us sec then how he goes about it.
this does not arise ftom Abraham s KNOWLEDGE,
" or
Remark 19.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 403
" or any body s KNOWLEDGE, at the time wh/-n the
" transaction happened, but from the similitude and cor-
" respondency between the event and the trail- ac*.ion, by
" which it was prefigured ; which is exactly the same
" upon either supposition." pp. 156, 7. To this ! answer
and suy, i. That I myself never supposed that the de
pendency between the two dispensations did " arise from
" Abrahams knowledge, or any body s knowledge," at
that or any other time; but from COD S INTENTION"
that this commanded action should import or represent
the sacrifice of Christ : and then comes in the question
whether that intention be best discovered from God s
declaration of it to Abraham, or from a similitude and
correspondency between this commanded aciion and the
sacrifice of Christ. Therefore, 2. I answer and say,
that a SIMILITUDE and CORRESPONDENCY between the
event and the transaction which prefigured it, is not
enough to shew this DEPENDENCY to the satisfaction of
unbelievers : who say, th.it a likeness between two things
of the same nature ; such as the oiferihg up two men to
death, though in (different ways, and transacted in t*vo
very distant periods, is not Sufficient alone to shew that
they had any relation to one another*. With the sar.se
reason they will say, you might pretend thotJephtha s
daughter, or the king of Mvatf* son, whom the father
sacrificed on the wailf, were the types of Chri^fs sacri-
fice t Give us, say they, a Bible-proof tlrit Gon declared
or revealed his intention ot prefiguring the death oi Jesus;
or some better authority at least than a modern tvpitier,
who deals only in similitudes and correspondences.
Now whether it be our Examiner, or I, \\ho have given
them this, satisfaction, or whether they have any reason
to require it of us, is lett tQ the impartial reader to
consider.
XIX. We now come to the UTILITY of rry interpre
tation of the command, having got through all his objec
tions to its TRUTH. And here, the same civility and
candour which so polished and enlivened the foregoing
part, shine out agn n, in the very first words of this.
* See what the Letter-writer abovemeinioned says, np. 53, 5.
much to the same purpose.
f 2 Kings iii. 2/.
D D 2 " And
404 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II.
" And now, Sir, (says he) give me leave to ask, what
" service have you done to religion by your interpreta-
" tion? We were prepared for it, by an intimation that
" something was to ari.se from it to the confusion of
" infidelity : As how? why first, as by your manner of
" explaining this transaction of Abraham, you should
" illustrate God s truth by the noblest instance that
" ever teas glcen of the harmony between the Old
" and New Testament" And 2clly, " as by its aid
" you should be enabled to give the true solution of
u those inexplicable difficulties which have been so
" long the stujiibling-block of infidelity." p. 157.
And now; he addresses himself to shew, that my in
terpretation has neither of these advantages. " First, as
" to the hanr.opy (he says) he has just above shewn that
" the transaction will be equally prophetic of Christ s
" sacrifice, whether my interpretation be admitted r
" not/ He hath shewn it indeed! as the Irishman
shewed his . And it is fresh in the reader s memory.
Come we, then, to the second. (i As to the second
" (says he) the difficulties which have been so long the
" stumbling-block of infidelity, which upon the foot of
" the coaunon interpretation you call insuperable; I
6i greatly marvel that you should call them so, when you
" acknowledge, in the very same page, that the argu-
** moits hitherto brought to support the history of
u this command are. of great weight and validity!*
pp.157, 8. ^ warvds ! Why let him marvel. I
fciippoee he never heard that there are insuperable diffi-
{idiico even to seine demonbtrahle propositions, l^ut
lie, of all men,- should have accepted my concession upon
fail* tcrirs, since it vias made to humour Divines like
himself; who think it enough for religion if the objections
to it be, as lie warily expresses it, GUARDED AGAINST:
(p. 137.) which, God knows! they often are, by argu
ments, of no. great weight or validity.
XX. However ( say s he) "whether you had owned
" this or not, I SHOULD HAVE TAKEN UPON MYSEEF
v<c THE PROOF thatthe se insuperable difficulties may be
" very ..effectually and substantially removed, without
^/borrowing any aid from .your interpretation. The
" -substance of tiie objection to the historic truth of this
* relation,
Remark 20.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 405
" relation, as collected by yourselff, .is this, That Clod.
" could never give such a command to Abraham, be-
" cause it would throw him into incxiricable dGulJts
tf concerning the author of it ] as whether it pro-
" ceeded from a good or evil being- \ because} if
" would mislead him in his notions of the Divine
" attributes, and of the fundamental principles oj
^ morality. For though the revoking the comr.iaad
* c prevented the homicide; yet the action being com-
" manded, and, at the revocation, not condemned;
" Abraham and his family must needs have thought
" human sacrifices grateful to the Almighty. For
ic a simple revoking was no condemnation ; but would
" be more naturally esteemed a peculiar indulgence
^ for ready obedience. Thus the Pagan jable of
" Diana s substituting a hind in the place of Iphige-
4i ma, did not make idolaters believe that she there-
" jore abhorred human sacrifices, they having be jo re
" been persuaded of the contrary * p. 158. r ihe
objection, the reader sees, consists of two parts : the
0/;c, that Abraham must doubt of the author of the
command: the -oilier, that he would be misled concern
ing his attributes ; or in the gratefulness of human
sacrifices to him.
To the first, our Examiner answers, partly from what
I myself had observed might be urged by believers, as
of great weight and validity, and partly from what
he had picked up elsewhere. But here I shall avoid
imitating his example, in endeavouring to shew the
invalidity of arguments professedly brought in support
of religion: an employment by no means becoming a
Christian Divine. If they have any weak parts, I shall
leave them to unbelievers to find out. I have the more
reason too to trust them to their own ireiguf, both as
they are none of his, with whom only I. have here to do,
and as I have acknowledged their validity. All I shall
observe is, that, as I had made that acknowledgment,
I see not to what end they are urged against me ; unless
it were to entertain us with his common-place : which
I should have received in silence, had he not affected to
introduce it with so much pomp " Whether you had
* Div. Leg. vol. vi. p. 30.
p D 3 " owned
"
4o6 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II.
" owned this or not (says he) I should have taken upon
" myself the proof." Whereas, all that he has taken is
the property oi others : made his own, indeed, by a weak
and an imperfect representation.
But now he comes to the second part of the objection.
" As to the latter part of the objection (says he) that
" from this command, Abraham and his family must
" needs have thought human sacrifices acceptable to
" God; the revoking the command at last, was a suflfi-
" cient guard against any such construction. To this?
" you make the unbeliever answer : No ; because the
" action having been commanded ought to have been
<c condemned , and a simple revocation was no con-
" demnation. But why was not the revocation of the
IC command, in this case, a condemnation of the action ?
" If I should tempt ^ou to go and kill your next neigh -
hour, and afterwards come and desire you not to do
" it; would not this after-declaration be as good an
evidence of my dislike to the action, as the first was of
my approbation of it ? Yes, and a much better, as it
" may bo presumed to have been the result of maturer
" deliberation. Now though deliberation and after*
" thought are not incident to God ; yet as God in this
<c case condescended (as you say, and very truly) to act
" after the manner of men ; the same construction
" should be put upon his actions, as are usually put
" upon the actions of men in like cases." pp. 160, 161.
Now, though, as was said above, I would pay all decent
regard ami reference that becomes a friend of Revelation,
to the common arguments ol others in its defence, yet
I must not betray my oicn. I confessed they had great
Weight and validity ; yet, at the same time, I asserted,
they were attended with .imur,c ruble difficulties. And
while I so U ink, I must beg leave to intorce my reasons
for this opinion. And, I i)0j>e, without offence; as the
arguments, I am now about to examine, are purely this
writer s own. And the reader has, by this time, seen too
much of him to be apprehensive, that the lessening his
authority will be attended witii any great disservice to
religion.
I ha 1 observed, that the reasonings of unbelievers on
case, as it is commonly explained, were not devoid,
of
Remark 20.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 4P7
of all plausibility, when they proceeded thus That as
Abraham lived amongst heathens, whose hkhe t act of
O
divine worship was human sacrifice ; if God had com
manded that net, and, on the point of performance, only
remitted it as a favour (and so it is represented) ; without
declaring the iniquity of the practice, when addressed to
idols ; or his abhorrence of it, when directed to himself;
the family must have been misled in their ideas con
cerning the moral rectitude of that species of religious
worship: therefore, God, in these circumstances, had he
commanded the action as a trial only, would have
explicitly condemned that mode as immoral. But he is
not represented as condemning but as remitting it in
Jar our : consequently, say the unbelievers, God did not
command the action at all. Now what says our Exa
miner, in answer to all this? He says, "But why?
" Was not the revocation of the command a condemna-
<l tion of the action ? If I should tempt you to go and
(t kill your next neighbour, and afterwards come and
" DESIRE you not to do it, would not this aitor-decla-
" ration be as good an evidence of my dislike to the
" action, as the first was of my approbation of it? " To
this I reply ; that the cases are, by no means, parallel ;
either in themselves, or in their circumstances: 1st. Not
in themselves. The murder of our next neighbour was,
amongst all the Gentiles of that time, esteemed a high
immorality; but, on the contrary, human sacrifices a
very holy and acceptable part of divine worship. 2dly,
Not in their circumstances. The desire to forbear the
murder tempted to is (in the case he puts) represented as
repentance : whereas the stop put to the sacrifice of
Isaac is (in the case Moses puts) represented a&Javtiur.
But what follows I could wish (for the honour of
modern theology) that the method I have observed would
have permitted me to pass over in silence. " Now,
" though deliberation and after-thought (says he) are
" not incident to God, yet, as God, in this case, conde-
" scended (as you say, and very truly) to act after the
" manner of men ; the same construction should be put
" upon his actions, as are usually put upon the actions
" of men in like cases:" (pp. 155, T 5^0 l - e - though
deliberation and offer-thought are not incident to God ;
D D 4 yet
4o8 REMARKS OX SEVERAL [Part II.
yet you are to understand his actiors, as if they were
incident. A horn ^rotation! A .id yet his repre
sentation of the cv> (ftJdgnt illustration of
it, by a murder in mtttitivh) /er u^ to r nter-
prct it iri ; cr. lor (iod, as it in haste,
s.i A! before; &j deflbefa A as command-
ii,,.: an in.:.. :: ; jfel IP it were by an
//,, . cr-tiiont //<:, orierm^ it s o fft, by rea?on of
itb immorality. And iti what is aii this impious janj^h
founded? If you will believe our ixamincr; on tho
principle I laid oo^n, lliat God cr,!>dctcends 1o act
ajter tnc manner of men. I have all along had occa
sion to coini -lJim of his misrepresenting my principles,
JBut they v\ere principles he disliked. And this the
gipcjerp managertie hf o5( controversy has sancthied. Eut
here, ihoi!^;; the priiei;:^^hear pr(..vcd, heyetcannotfbrbcar
iriisrepfe^^ehuii^ it. So bad a thing is an evil habit. Let
me tell him then lore, that by tlte principle of God s
coridtscetidiftgi to act after the manner of men, is not
meant tliat he e\er acts in compliance to those vices and
puper&titiohs , viiich arise ironi the depravity oi human
wilt : u ^i (x/nsorndty only to men s iiv:{i!?erer.t m;ui-
hers and c; : and to tliose usages wliirh result only
from the fini- ons of ti ieir nature. Thus
th --Dtrh, as in ; bdore us, God was- pleased, in
conformity to tk-ir mode of information, to use their
c\i^ n of" rc\o ! u!^ u cotntnand; vet he never conde-
scendcd to imitate (as our EXB -gainer supposes) the irre-
sol.it; ni, the repentance, and norrors of conscience of a
??;;> ! < j rer in intention. \\ ia( % h fpraeious heaven !) is
the parallel this Divine brings to illustrate the command
to .\.bi ti>t<r<v. Ikit he Ld n\ul that God is sometimes
said to reptitt; and he thought, 1 suppose, it answered
to that repentance which the stings of conscience some-
tl.vics produce in bad iuen. Whereas it is said, in con-
tun.: ity to a good n: agl; iraie s or parent s correction of
vice i^i st to tlireatrn punishment; and then, on the
oik.! ier s amendment, to remit it.
XXI. 1-ut he goes on without any signs of remorse.
" Ivor Pagan fable of Dianas substituting a
* c ,.:a-: in the place ol Iphigenia at all help your unbe-
" litvcr. This did not ; say they, OR YOU TOR THEM,
12 "make
Remark 2i.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 409
" make idolaters believe that she therefore abhorred
" human sacrifices. But do n ;t they themselves, or have
" not you assigned a very proper and suflicient reason
" why it did, i.v. that they had been be /ore pervaded
" of the contrary ? Where human sacrifices make a
"part of the settled standing refeion ; the refusal to
" accept a human sacrifice in one instance inny, indeed,
" he rathe r looked upon as a particular indulgence, than
" as a declaration agHUist the di m<* in gross- Lut where
o c^ o
" the thing was commanded but in one single instance,
" and tue command revoked in that very instance (which
" is our present ease), such revocation in ail. reasonable
" construction- is as effectual a condemnation of the thing,
" as if God had to id Abraham, in so many words, tiiat-
" lie delighted not in human sacrifices." p. nil. To
come to our Examiner s half- buried sense, we are often
obliged to remove, or at least to sift well, the rubbish of
his words. He says, the revocation was an effectual
condemnation. This may either signify, that men now
free from the prejudices of Pagan superstition may see
that human sacrifices were condemned by the revocation
of the command : or, that -Abraham $ Jamily could see
this. In the first sense, I have nothing to do , \\ith his
proposition ; and in the second, I shall take the liberty to
deny it was an effectual condemnation. With how good
reason let the reader judge.
Abraham, for the great ends of God s providence,
vras called out of an idolatrous city, imected, as all such
cities then were, with this horrid superstition He was
himseli an idolater, as appears from the words of Joshua
Your fathers dwelt on the other side of the flood
in old time, even Terah the j at her oj Abraham, and
the father of Nachor: and THEY served other gods.
And I took your father Abraham*, $c. God, in the
act of calling him, instructed him in the unity of his na
ture, and the error of Polytheism: as the great principle,
for the sake of which (and to preserve it in one family
amidst an universal overflow of idolatry) he was called out
That he must be prejudiced in favour of his country
superstitions, is not to be doubted; because it is of
* Josh. xxiv. 2, 3.
human
413 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II,
human nature itself to be so : and yet we find no particular
instruction given him, concerning the superstition in ques
tion. Further, the noble Author of the Characteristics
observes, that " it appears that he was under no extreme
" surprise on this trying revelation ; nor did he think of
" expostulating in the least on this occasion ; when at
* another time he could be so importunate for the pardon
" of an inhospitable, murderous, impious, and incestuous
"city*." Insinuating hereby, that this kind of sacrifice
was a thing he had been accustomed to : now the noble
Author observes this, upon the Examiners, that is, the
common interpretation. And I believe, on that footing,
he, or a better writer, would find it difficult to enervate
the observation. Whereas I have shewn (in the place
from whence I have here quoted it) that it fails together
with that interpretation.
Well ; Abraham is now in the land of Canaan ; and
again surrounded with the same idolatrous and inhuman
sacrificers. Here he receives the command : and, on the
point of performance, lias it countermanded as a FA
VOUR. A circumstance, in the revocation, which I must
beg the Examiner s leave to insist upon ; especially when
I find him so slippery as, at every turn, to forget it ;
that is, to pass it over in silence, without either owning or
denying. As indeed, the little support his general
argument has, in any place, is only by keeping truth out
of sight. But further, the favour was unaccompanied
with any instruction concerning the moral nature of tiiis
kind of sacrifice; a practice never positively forbidden
but by the Law of Moses. Now, in this case, I would
ask any candid reader, the least acquainted with human
nature, whether Abraham and his family, prejudiced as
they were in favour of human sacrifices (the one, by
his education in his country religion; the other, by their
communication with their Pagan neighbours, and, as
appears by Scripture, but too apt to fall into idolatry)
would not be naturally tempted to think as favourably of
human sacrifices as those Pagans were, who understood
that Diana required Iphigenia ; though she accepted
a hind in her stead. And with such readers, I, finally,
leave it.
* Div. Leg. vol. \i. p. 37.
XXII. Our
Remark 22.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 411.
XXII. Our Examiner having now shewn, first, That
my interpretation is not founded in truth Secondly,
That it is productive of no utility : he comes, in good
time, to the third and last part of his Herculean labour,
to shew, that it makes matters worse than I J ound
them : \vhich, in other words, we shall find, will amount
to this That the common interpretation agrees with his
system ; but that mine docs not : which system, by the
known courtesy of controversy, you are to permit him to
call the word of God.
" This, Sir, (ft ays he) is the substance of what has
" been or may he offered, in answer to the objections
" propounded upon the common foot of interpretation.
" Let us now see what your interpretation affords that is
" better. You say then ; That the command could
" occasion no mistakes concerning the divine attri-
" butes, because it teas only the conveyance of an
" information by action instead oj words ; in conjor-
ft mity to the common mode of conversing in early
" times. This action therefore being nv j re scenery^
" and, like words, only of arbitrary signification ; it
" had no moral import; but the formality of that
u action, which has no moral import, is seen no icay
" to affect the moral character of the author. All
* this, Sir, is admitted." Very well, proceed. " In
" your way of reckoning, the command had no moral
" import ; for nothing was intended to be done to
" Abraham s hurt or prejudice; who, as you tell us,
" very well understood how the scenical rep resent a-
" tation was to end\ and must needs conclude
" either that God would stop his hand when he came
"to give the sacrificing stroke , or that his son,
" sacrificed in the person of Christ, was IMMEDIATELY
" to he restoced to lije. This solution, no doubt,
" clears up every thing as to Abraham ; and conse-
" quentiy removes one part of the objection, which says ;
" that God could not oive such a command, because it
" inferred a violation of the natural law." pp. 161, 162.
Here certainly I can complain of nothing but my ill
fortune. Ihis is the first time the Examiner has pleased
tooKii th:t I have removed an objection. And now,
u*.,.cad oi rejoicing in the honour he does me, I have a
scruple
412 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II.
scruple of conscience about accepting it. And my. case
is this. lie says I have removed it upon this principle
of mine, that the command /tad no moral import. But,
alas ! in crossing the proverb, and looking, as it were,
into his mouth) (for there his words have their birth,
land not from his heart} I find he foully mistakes the
inclining of the principle; and, what is worse, seems to
give his own wrong meaning to me. " In YOUR w ay
* of reckoning, the command had no moral import; FOR
" nothing was intended to be done to Abraham s hurt or
** prejudice," l:ut as near as he thinks himself to me,
he is a mile from the reason. The reason why I say it
fa-ad no moral import, was, not because nothing UY/.V
done to Abraham s hurt or prejudice ; Alas! No: but
because the act commanded was, both in the intention
of God, and in the knowledge of Abraham, a mere
scenical representation, and not a religions sacrifice :
for that a scenicxl representation has nothing of that
mor-:l import which belongs to the thing represented.
Let the gift, then, go eurruit or not, just as the reader
pleases. I find I have little reason, to be anxious ab;;ut
its value, and less to be proud of the honour : for he
immediately subjoins, " But as this solution removes one
" difficulty, it creates another," What, another in favour
of infidelity ! No. Bui: concerning Abrahams merit
in obedience. Yet his purpose is here to shew, that my
interpretation can do nothing against an infidel objec
tion .; whirl), were it not for his ansii crs, that, as he
well expresses it, stand gutird over them, might run no
body-knows whither. So that still, by his own confession,
mv interpretation has removed one of the strongest
.infidel objections. However, as. I would not beiorc
accept this honour at the expence of truth ; so neither
will I now ut the expence of Abrahams character. Let
us enquire, therefore, into this new-created difficulty,
"it ki (says he) that the command will not stand with
".the notion of a trial, in one point, in which the
" history itself intimates it was intended as such. You
" tell us ; that Abraham, in expressing his extreme
" readiness to obey, declared a jail confidence in the
" promises .oj God\ ^which is very true. E&t you say
" nothirjg of ti&. virtue, i.e. of Us patience and self-
<( denial ,
Remark 22.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 4*3
." denial , of which, yet, this command was intended tf; v a
" trial. The very words of the command shew this. Tc.te,
" /?os? thy son, thine ONLY son Isaac, WHOM THOU
" LOVEST. Here are two things pointed at, as standing
" in the way to hinder Abraham from obeying tiiLf com-
" nwnd. i. The assurances which God had given him,
" " that Isaac should be the heir of the promises ; ibr
" Isaac was Abraham s ONLY -son, not by birth but by
<k promise. 2. His natural paternal affection. The
. " first difficulty his faith was to remove ; the second was
" to be conquered by his resolution and fortitude.
" But wlicr-^ I ask; was Abraham^ resolution ; if he
". knew,, either that God would not suffer the command
* " to be put in execution ; or if .lie did, that, lie should
" instantly be restored to him ? Resolution is -shewed
f/ by bearing hard things ; but on neither of these sup-
<f positions had Abraham -any thing in expectation, by
" which he could be a sufferer." p. 163.- And now we
see how willingly he was misled, when he, mistook my
reason, whytheactionhad.no moral import; and say
ing, it was because nothing was intended to be dnue ~to-
, Abraham s hurt or prejudice. For it was preparatory
to what he. here undertakes to shew, that, according to
. .my interpretation,. ^^^/^ ^T? had.no room to exercise his
paternal affection ; that being what he drives at -by ail his
.round-about words. But to proceed. He says, "You
" tell us that Abraham, in expressing his extreme rea-
" dines.s to obey, declared a lull cpptiilehce in the pro-
" mises of Gocl. But -you ^ say nothing of his virtue;
"i.e. of his PATIENCE and SELF-DENIAL, of WHICH
" THIS CO.MMAXD V/AS INTENDED AS A TRIAL." He
says very true I said nothing of it, and ,J:he reason was
(not thai: I thought he had them not, but) becaiise holy
Scripture says nothing of them*. Bu c he ttjls me r
though Scripture said nothing* it pointed to them. And
so did I, if he goes to that. Indeed, I neither . w id nor
pointed at anything so absurd, as that the command
icas intended as a trial of his patience and self-denial^
because Scripture represents it as a trial of his faith
Qnly. BY FAITH ABRAHAM WHEN HE WAS TRIED
* S( j e what the Letter-writer has very pertinently replied to this
purpose, p. 7 2.
offered
4U REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II.
offered up Isaac, says the author of the Epistle to the
Hebrews. But I won t promise what I shall not do for
the future. I think it deserves to he pointed at. But
he says I speak of Abrahams faith, and say nothing of
his virtue. It is commonly said, indeed, that patience
/-v a virtue ; but it is as true that i aith is one aNo.
Though he may be in the number of those subtile school
men the Poet speaks of, for aught I know,
" Who faith and virtue, sense and reason split,
With all the rash dexterity of wit."
Yet, for all this, I own, that the great merit of
Abrahams faith implied in \\, patience BxSflFsclf-dcniaL
Let us hear then how I have lessened these virtues.
Why then " hear (says our Examiner) what the
" Author of the Epistle to the Hebrews says ; who best
" understood this matter. Ky J aith, Abraham when
" he teas tried, offered itp Isaac; and he that had re-
" cehcd the promise* , offered ///; his only begotten
" son ; of it hom it teas xaid, thai in Isaac shall thy
" seed be called , accounting, that Gcd teas able to
" raise him up even from the dead. Heb. XL 17, 18, 19,
^ It is in the nature of the thing, necessary to be sup-
" posed ; that Abraham was firmly persuaded, either,
44 that God uould revoke the command ; or, that he
" would raise up his son from the dead ; for otherwise
" the promise could never stand. The Apostle teUs you
4i precisely, winch of these he believed ; viz. that it was,
" tliat Gcd would raise haac from the dead And this
" agrees with the character thai: the Scripture gives of
" Abraham s faith; his believing AGAINST HOPE, /. e.
" against all the appearances or probabilities of human
" things. "\Vhen haac was born, he received him from
" the dead: i.e. from a dead womb. Supposing him
" slain, he believed that he should again receive him
" from the dead; and this again was believing AGAINST
4k HOPF. ; for one was as much against the natural course
" of tilings, as the other. But pray observe this Sir;
44 the Apostle does not say, that Abraham accounted
44 that God would raise his son IXSTAXTLV. He might
" (for anujit Abraham knew, or had any reason to hope
" to ihe .coplrarv) be FOR EVER lost 10 HIM; though
u he
Remark 22.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 415
** he was assured he could not be so lost as that the
" promise of God should fail ; upon which foot, there
" will be room left for all that disturbance from passion
" and natural affection, which every father feels upon
" the loss of a beloved child; and consequently, matter
" left for the exercise of his virtue. It suits best indeed,
" with your hypothesis, to say, that Abraham believed
" that his son should be raised INSTANTLY. For if this
" whole transaction was a scenical representation, to
"inform Abraham of the sacrifice of Christ , and if
" this (as you say,*) was the principal design of the
" command ; the information once given, the scenery
" ought to be at an end. And this is one reason, among
<c others, why I cannot believe your account to be the
" true one ; because it destroys the force and virtue of
" the command, considered as a trial of Abrahams
* resolution and self-denial ; which nevertheless, the
" very history plainly intimates to us, it was intended to
" be," pp. 163 165.
But now when I thought he was going to prove that
Abraham had these virtues of patience and self- denial ^
.he is got upon quite another scent ; and has started two
other virtues, his resolution and his fortitude. The
" first difficulty his faith was to remove ; the second was
" to be conquered by his RESOLUTION and FORTITUDE/*
But what must be my difficulty all this while, who have
-to do with such a writer ! Shall I examine what he says
to Abrahams patience and self -denial f Come . on
then. But now they are of a sudden turned to resolu
tion void fortitude ! Shall I seize upon his resolution
and fortitude ? In vain. Before he gets to the end
of his argument, they are changed into resolution and
self-denial. " The command (he says) is to be con-
" sidered as a trial of Abraham^ RESOLUTION and SELF-
" DENIAL." And so the two pair of virtues, patience
and self-denial^ and resolution and fortitude, have
fairly compromised the matter. And at last it is agreed,
as in a Whig and Tory election, that resolution and
tidf-deniat shall stand each *br the other s representative.
Matters therefore being now well settled, here we shall
icave them. For there is the same reverence due to the
* D.iv. Leg. vol. vi. p. 28.
nonsense
4i6 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II.
iwnseri-se of great writers,- as the honest translator of
Saliust has trmgiit us to be due to the corruption of
great ministers. Therefore, what he says ot this latter
quality may not be unfitly applied- to the former, that
" what sounds like nonsense muy not he nonsense : and
" it is not so much the act, as the characters of men
" that constitute it*." But as I can make nothing of
his words, I will try to pick out his meaning; which,
after all, seems to accuse me of leaving Abraham
neither patience nor self-denial : and is founded in
this, that, according to the common interpretation, as
Abraham did not know when Isaac would be restored
to him, " tiicre was room left for all that disturbance
" from passion and natural affection, which every .father
"feels upon the loss of a beloved child; and conse-
<c quently exercise for his virtue." But on my interpre
tation (that Abraham knew his son must bcsooii restored
to him) there was no room, it seems, for the exercise of
these virtues. And now, what is here worth answering ?
-In both cases Abrahams faith had the same trial.
And this is allowed. And had not his paternal affec
tion ? In neiiher case did he know, but that his son
was to receive the .sacrificing stroke. And was not the
paternal affection, as much interested in receiving him to
life after three days, as after three years ? Supposing,
(as is granted) that his faith in God s promises was
exactly the same in both cases.- How then does the
reader think our Examiner supports his chicane? How?
but in that way all chicane is supported. By represent
ing both cas Gs falsely. Under the common interpretation,
lie represents it thus, " Isaac might (for aught Abrah am
" knew, or had any reason to hope to the contrary) bo
" FOR EVKII LOST TO THAI." And he tells me, " it suits
" best with my hypothesis, to- say that Abraham believed
" that liis son should be raised INSTANTLY." pp. 164,1 (i>
I know of nothing that suits so well with my hypothec*
as truth ; nor nothing so ill with it, as our Examiner s
understanding. What shall I say! Or rather what shall
I not say. 6 patience! I feel thoa art a virtue, as
* " What sounds like corruption may not be corruption ; and
" it is not so much the act, as the characters of ruen that consti-
" tute it. Gord. Trausl. of Sail. Pol, Disc. p. 97-
our
Remark 2 j.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 4*7
our Examiner truly calls thee. What? do not those
very words of Scripture, of which the Examiner serves
himself in support of the common interpretation, ac
counting that God was abk to raise him up even from
the dead, imply, in all common construction, that Abra
ham accounted, or believed, or had reason to hope, that
Isaac was NOT FOR EVER LOST TO HIM ? But it could
not be otherwise even upon our Examiner s own inter
pretation, who in p. 148, makes the receiving from the
dead an allusion to the dead womb of Sarah ; for, accord
ing to this sense, which, he tells us, he prefers to any
other, the writer of the epistle to the Hebrews could
never suppose (whatever our Examiner does) that Abra
ham might fear that Isaac would be for ever lost to him.
For the argument, According to his conception of the
Apostle s sense, runs thus, Abraham received Isaac out
of Sarah s dead womb ; so he hoped to receive him again
from the ashes of the sacrifice. Thus does this Examiner,
at every turn, forget his own principles : or, rather,
having no principles of his own, he perceives not that he
takes the contradictory principles of others. Again, does
not my interpretation, which supposes that Abraham
well understood that this commanded action was a
scenical representation of Christ s sacrifice on the cross,
necessarily imply that Abraham knew no more than that,
as the Redeemer of Mankind could not lie under the
power of the grave ; so, his representative, even though
he received the sacrificing stroke, would not ? Should
he, therefore, have so prevaricated as to insinuate, that I
used the word instantly in the sense of momentaneously ;
when my argument shews I used it in opposition to a
distant time ? If the stroke had been given, we know,
it could not have been till the third day at least. And
in this time I hope there was " room enough left for all
" that disturbance from passion and natural affection
" which everv father feels upon the loiS of a beloved
"child." pp. "164, 165,
After all this, could the candid or sensible reader con
ceive it possible that our Examiner should end his,
argument in the following strain ? " So that in taking,
" one handle away froin unbelievers, you have given
" them another. For if, upon the foot of the common,
Vot. XL li E " interpretation,
418 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II.
" interpretation, they think they see a violation of the
tc natural law ; they may, upon your interpretation,
* alledge an inconsistency of the Scriptures with them-
" selves : and I apprehend, Sir, that it is a much easiei
" thing to shew that the command carries no violation oj
" the natural law, the common interpretation admitted;
" than it will be to reconcile your hypothesis to the
* Scripture account of this matter. So much has Chris-
" tianity gained by your interpretation ! " p. 165. But
I leave him to the reader s mercy.
XXIII. " But this is not the greatest difficulty you
II have to account for (says he). The objection relates
" not to Abraham only, but also to his family ; who (as
" you have made your unbeliever say) MUST NEEDS
" have thought human sacrijices acceptable to God:
" because the action w as not formally condemned at the
" revocation of the command. I do think, Sir, that il
* would be a very considerable objection to this history;
" if it did give any reasonable encouragement to the
41 belief, that human sacrifices were acceptable to God;
" and I have given my reason why I think it cannot give
" any such encouragement ; which is that, in this case,
" the revocation of the command, without any formal
" condemnation of the action, is sufficient to guard
* f against any such abuse. Whether you agree with me
" in this principle, or whether you are of the infidel side
" of the question in this particular point, you have nol
" told us ; nor shall I take upon me to guess. But you
" are fully persuaded, that, upon your hypothesis, the
" objection is entirely removed. Your words are these ;
" There was not the least occasion, when God remittee
" the offering of Isaac, that he should formally condemn
" human sacrifices^ to prevent Abraham, OR HIS FAMI-
" LY S falling into an opinion, that such sacrifices zccrt
* not displeasing to him For the command, having, at
" we said, no moral import ; being only an information by
" action, where one thing stood for the representative ej
* another ; all the consequence that could be deduced
"from it was only this ; that the Son of God should bt
4t offered up for the sins of mankind: therefore the con-
" ceptions THEY [Abraham, m.- AND HIS FAMILY] hai>
i( of human sacrifices after the command, must needs bt
"just
Remark 23-] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 419
44 just the same which they had before ; and there-
"fore, instruction concerning the execrable nature of
" human sacrifices was not only needless, but (quite
" beside the question*. I can easily understand, Sir,
"how the matter stood with Abraham ; and that HE
" was in no danger of being misled, as to the nature of
" human sacrifices, who knew the secret of the whole
41 affair ; and that it was nothing else but scenery. But
41 how this answer will serve for his family ; who are to
4i be presumed to have known nothing of this scenical
" representation, is utterly past my comprehension. I
" say that the family of Abraham must be presumed to
" have known nothing of this scenical representation;
41 because you have told us from the very first, that the
" information to be conveyed by it was intended for
" Abrahams S,OLE USE ; and I do not see how Abraham
" could open to his family the scenery of the transaction,
" without explaining the mystery. Accordingly, your
" answer, in this very passage, imports, that Abrahams
"family, as well as himself, were acquainted with this
" mystery; for you say that ail the consequence that
" COULD be deduced from this transact! on. was, that the
4i Son of God should be offered up for the sins of man*
" kind. All the consequence that could be deduced !
41 By whom? Why, by the family of Abraham ; for to
" them, as well as to Abraham, does the inference, which
" you immediately subjoin, belong THEREFORE the
" conceptions THEY had of human sacrifices must needs
" be just the same, c. But is not your putting the
"family of Abraham in possession of this consequence
" a very plain declaration, that they knew the mystery
" of Christ s sacrifice ! Now therefore, Sir, take you*
* { choice, and give up one part of your hypothesis, or the
" other, as best pleases you ; tor to hold both is impos-
41 sible. If you say that the family of Abraham WERE
" acquainted with the mystery of Christ s sacrifice ; it
" will overturn all you have said concerning their igno-
" ranee of a future state: for to what purpose the Sou
" of God was to be offered up for the sins of mankind,
" if no life is to be expected after this, it is impossible
" to comprehend. It likewise overturns the single
* Div.Leg. vol. vi. pp. 33, 34.
E E 2 " reason
420 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II.
:< reason you have given why the explanation (usual in
" all such cases) to shew the import of the transaction
:< was not added, viz. that it was a point not jit for com-
" mon knowledge. But if you shall chuse to say, that
:< the revelation of this mystery, was for the SOLE infor-
mation of Abraham, and that his family knew nothing
" of it (which I think you must say, to make your inter-
: pretation good), the objection will lie full against you,
" unanswered. For upon this supposition, they must
:{ have considered this transaction, not in your artificial,
" hidden light, but in its apparent , natural light; and
<f the construction in favour of human sacrilices must
r<( have been the very same, as if no such representation
." as you speak of had been intended." pp. 165 168.
" Whether (say* he) you agree with me, or ARE OF
" THE INFIDEL SIDE OF THE QUESTION." A dire di
lemma ! to which he reduces all his adversaries. Agree
not with him, and you are at once on the injidel side of
the question.
" Qui meprise Cotin, n estime point son Roi,
" Et n a, scion Cotin, ni Dieu, ni foi, ni loi.
But if this be my alternative, sit anima mea cum philo
sophic, as was said on the like occasion ; they are much
the better company. I believed that an infidel objection
to the command to Abraham, on the common interpre
tation of it, had weight; and I explain the force of it, in
order to remove it; and to excite other defenders of
Revelation to consider it : for which, it seems, I am
of the injidel side of the question.
I had said, that the command was for Abrahams sole
juse ; and " therefore (he says) that the family of Abraham
" must be presumed to know nothing of this scenical
" representation." Notwithstanding this, I presume they
did know it. Here he takes me in a flagrant contradiction.
But did he indeed not see that where I spoke of its being
given for Abrahams sole use, I was opposing it, (as the
course of my argument required), not to the family which
lived under his tents, but to the Jewish people, when the
history of the transaction was recorded *. And now
having
* Here the Letter-writer, so often mentioned before, is quite
scandalized j and cannot forbear breaking out at p. 77 " I declare
"it,
Remark 23-3 OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 421
having exposed his wrong conclusion from my words, let
us consider next the wrong conclusion he draws from his
warn. u I do not see (says he) how Abraham could open
* to his family the scenery of the transaction without
" explaining the mystery." What does he mean by,
" open the scenery of the transaction ?" There are two
senses of this ambiguous expression; it may signify,
either explaining the moral of the scenery ; or simply,
telling his family that the transaction was a scenical
representation. He could not here use the phrase in the
first sense, because he makes explaining the mystery a
thing different from opening the scenery. He must mean
it then in the latter. But could not Abraham tell his
family, that this was a scenical representation., without
explaining the mystery ? I don t know what should
hinder him, unless it were a charm. If he had the free
use of speech, I think, he might, in the transports of his
joy, on his return home, tell his wife, " that God had
" ordered him to sacrifice his son, and that he had carried
" him to Mount Moriah, in obedience to the Divine
" command, where a ram was accepted in his stead.
" But that the whole was a mere scenical representation,
" or figure, of a mysterious transaction which God had
(t ordained to come to pass in the latter ages of the
" world." And I suppose when he had once told his
wife, the family would soon hear of it. Now could they
not. understand, what was meant by a scenical represen
tation, as well when lie told them it was to prefigure a
mystery, as if he had told them it was to prefigure the
CrucjjLvicm of Jesus? The explanation, here given, had
I no other way of -blunting his dilemma (for if I escape
his contradiction, he has set his dilemma, which, he says,
tis impossible I should avoid) had I nothing else, I say,
tis very likely I should have insisted upon this : but there
are
* it, if you be Dr. S , I am perfectly astonished at you/ But
o am not I. The good man knows nothing of the contagion of
controversy. He seems to have studied his profession with an
intent only of coming to the truth ; and he speaks from the heart.
His whole pamphlet is a learned and well-argued performance :
and if he has been more attentive to the force of his reasoning
than to the ornaments of his language, the lovers of truth have the
more to thank him for, as he gives her to them undressed, and puts
gloss upon nothing,
* E 3
422 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part I L
are more ways than one of taking him by his horns.
Now therefore (says he) take your choice, and give
" up one part of your hypothesis or the other, as best
:c pleases you; FOR TO HOLD DOTH is IMPOSSIBLE.
" If you say that the family of Abraham were acquainted
" with the mystery, it will overturn all you said concern-
" ing their ignorance of a future state. But if you shall
" chuse to say that the revelation of the mystery was foF
" the sole information of Abraham, and that his family
" knew nothing of it, then the construction in favour of
" human sacrifices must have been the very same as if no
" such representation, as you speak of, had been intended."
I desire to know where it is that I spoke ANY THING
concerning Abraham s family s ignorance of a future
state; and therefore call upon him, for the 0tJTtj) atllr
lagt tittlC, to name the place. But, I am afraid, some
thing is wrong here again : and that, by Abrahams family,
he means the Israelites under Moses" s policy. For, with
regard to them, I did indeed say that the gross body of
the people were ignorant of a future state. But then I
supposed them equally, ignorant of the true import of the
command to Abraham. But, if, by Abrahams family,
he means, as every man docs, who means honestly, those
who resided with him under his tents, I suppose them
indeed acquainted with the true import of the command ;
but then, at the same time, not ignorant of a future state.
Thus what our Examiner had pronounced IMPOSSIBLE,
was, it seems, all the while very possible. And, in spite
of his dilemma, both parts of the hypothesis were at
peace. I can hardly think him so grossly immoral as to
have put this trick upon his reader with design ; I rather
think it was some confused notion concerning the Popish
virtue of TRADITION (that trusty conveyancer of truth)
which led him into all this absurdity; and made him con
clude, that what Abrahams family once knew, their pos
terity could never forget. Though the written word tells
us, that when Moses \\-as sent to redeem this posterity
from bondage, they remembered so little of God s reve
lations to their forefathers, that they knew nothing even
of his nature.
XXIV. Our Examiner now concludes his Conside
rations (which we have quoted word for word in order as
2 they
Remark 24.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 42 j
they lie, without curtailing or abridging) in this manner.
" Thus, Sir, it appears, that what was well before, comes
" out bad, from under your hands. Which confirms to
" me what I have often thought; that experiments in
" religion are seldom good for any thing. The truth of
" this whole case, appears to me in this plain light. God
" called Abraham to this great trial; to make him an
" example of faith and resignation. Abraham obeys
* God s call; under a full persuasion that his son was
" lost to him ; and yet as fully assured that the promises
44 of God should not fail. In this view he is an example
" of both ; and thus much the Scriptures warrant. We,
" who see the resemblance between this case, and God s
" requiring his only Son to be offered up as a sacrifice
" for the sins of the whole world, rightly say, that the one
" was intended to be the figure of the other. But whe-
J O
* ther Abraham knew any tiling at all of Chrises sacri-
"Jice; or whether he knew nothing , the Scripture is
" wholly silent; and YOU ought to have been silent too.
" It is lit for us to stop where the Scripture stops and
" let infidelity do its worst." p. 1 69.
" What was well before, comes out bad," it seems,
** under my hand ;" which confirms him in a " Thought
" he often had ; THAT EXPERIMENTS IN RELIGION ARK
" SELDOM GOOD FOR ANY THING." By the way, though,-
this seems but an odd compliment to the many fine
experiments, which a great Prelate of his acquaintance
has made in religion. However, that he often had this
thought, I do not at all doubt. The thing I least ex
pected was, that he should venture to tell his thoughts.
But, in the paroxysm of answering, out it carne; and
from a man not the best formed by nature aperto viverc
voto. Writers, indeed, have differed much how these
EXPERIMENTS should be made. Some would have
Scripture alone employed in making them: others were
for taking in falters and councils ; and some again for
applying raillery and ridicule to the work. But I know
of no Protestant till our Examiner, who ever talked against
the thing itself. That language had been now, for near
two hundred years, confined to the walls of the Inquisi
tion. For what is making experiments in religion, but
illustrating it by new arguments, arising from new dis
coveries
424 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II
coveries made of the harmony in God s various dispen*
sations to mankind ; just as philosophers unfold nature,
by new enquiries into the contents of bodies? No
EXPERIMENTS, is the language indeed of POLITICIANS
(for in some things bigotry and politics agree ; as extremes
run easily into one another, by their very endeavour to
keep at distance) because, according to the politician s
creed, religion being useful to the state, and yet not
founded in truth, all inquiries tend, not to confirm, but
to unsettle, this necessary support of civil government.
But can a man who believes religion to have come from
God, use this language ! If he pretends to believe, and
will yet talk at so scandalous a rate, let me ask him, how
it comes to pass, that experiments, which do such service
in our advancement in the knowledge of nature, should
succeed so ill in religion? Are not both equally the
works of God ? Were not both given to be the subject
of human contemplation? Have not both, as proceeding
from the Great Master of the Universe, their depths and
darknesses ? And does not the unveiling the secrets of
his Providence tend equally with the unveiling the secrets
of his workmanship, to the advancement of his glory ?
Have not the wisdom and goodness of God been won
derfully displayed, in these latter ages, to the confusion
of Atheism, by some noble experiments made in nature ?
And why should not the same wisdom and goodness be
equally displayed, to the confusion of Deism, by experi
ments made in religion? I believe I should not be
accused of vanity, even by our Examiner himself in his
better mood, should I venture to appeal to The Divine
Legation itself, for the POSSIBILITY of the thing: for
he lias been graciously pleased to allow, that " what I
" have said of converse being maintained by actions as
" well as by words, is very just; and that the instances
" I have produced from Scripture, where actions have
" been used as foreshowing the determinations of Provi-
" dence, are beyond all exception." p. 153. Now here,
J presume, his modesty will confess, that I have taught
him something new ; both in the principle, and in the
following application of it to the primary and secondary
sense of prophecies. But if ever there was an experiment
made in religion, this was one ; it being deduced from a
careful
Remark 24.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 425
careful analysis of the several various modes of human
communication. In a word, had no experiments been
made in nature, we had still slept in the ignorance and
error of school-philosophy : and had none been made in
religion, we had still been groping about, and stumbling
in the darkness and superstition of school- divinity. For,
what were they, but experiments in religion, made by a
JVicklffi a Cranmer, a Calvin, an Erasmus, a Hooker,
that rescued us from that darkness and superstition?
Or is making experiments, like making gunpowder, a
monopoly? that none are to be intrusted with it, in
religion, but great names, and Fathers of the Church ;
and none, in nature, but Fellows of the Society. The
worst mischief they ever do is, now arid then, blowing up
an indiscreet Divine, when he comes too near, and tram
ples upon them with security and contempt. To repay
our Examiner, therefore, one secret for another ; I will
tell him what I have of ten thought, and what his own
words confirm, " That he who can talk in this manner,
:f whatever face he may put on, must needs have his
" doubts and fears about the truth of that religion which
O
" he so peevishly defends." " Abraham (says he) obeys
" God s call under a FULL PERSUASION that his Son was
" lost to him." So ! the doubt is now determined.
Before, it was only " That Isaac might, for aught
" Abraham knew, be for ever lost to him." But this it
is for a writer to have a full persuasion both of himself
and his reader.
" WE who SEE (says he) the RESEMBLANCE between
" this case [the action commanded] and God s requiring
" his only Son to be offered up as a sacrifice, for the
" sins of the whole world, RIGHTLY say, that the one was
" intended to be the figure of the other." These seers
by resemblance into facts, are like the seers by second-
sight into futurity: that is to say, equally under the
power of the imagination ; which, whatever light it may
afford to them, yet leaves their readers still in the dark.
As to this seeing by resemblance in particular, the reader
may, if he pleases, consult the XVIIIth Remark for all
that is necessary to be said on that subject.
" But whether Abraham (says he) knew any thing at
" all of Christ s sacrifice, or whether he knew nothing,
"the
426 REMARKS ON SEVERAL [Part II.
" the Scripture is wholly silent: AND YOU OUGHT TO
" HAVE BEEN SILENT TOO." To this I reply, in the
first place, that the reason why I was not silent, was,
because Scripture itself was not silent \ but, in the words
of Jesus, declared, that Abraham did know of Christ s
sacrifice. Secondly, I do not see why, even though
Scripture had been silent, I ought to have been silent too.
Scripture is silent concerning the substance of the Son.
But so are not you ; who, I make no doubt, declare at
least, that he is of one substance, with the Father. And
why do you so? Because (you will say, and you will
say true) that, although this proposition be not expressed
in the Bible, in so many words ; yet it is to be deduced
from Scripture-doctrine, by the most known principles of
philosophy and logic. Why then will you not allow me
the benefit of tli same answer, in the present case, But
in another mood he can be angry with me for being silent
where Scripture is silent. And for not speaking out
when that only gives a sign. " You say nothing (says he)
" of Abrahams virtue, his patience and self-denial, yet
" Scripture POINTS AT them."
But " It is fit (he says) for us to stop where the
Scripture stops." With how good a grace, and how
pertinently too, this maxim may be, sometimes, applied ;
I shall beg leave to observe ; that, with regard to the
fundamental points of the Christian faith, it is, indeed,
fit we should stop where the NEW TESTAMENT stops;
because that is able to make us wise unto salvation ; and
because there is now no reasonable expectation of any
further revelation of God s will to us, that shall refer to
this, and be explanatory of it. But with regard to an
historical passage, told obscurely (for the wise ends of
God s dispensations, which opened gradually upon man
kind) in the OLD TESTAMENT, to which the New refers
and is explanatory ; there, I hope, we may go on, without
presumption, to shew how, from such a passage, may be
demonstrated the real connexion and dependency between
the two covenants. Yet, by the strangest perversity,
there are men who will not stop in the first case; and,
in the second, will not go forward. But whatever our
Examiner s notions be ; it is plain, he took his expressions^
from somebody who applied the maxim to a maker of
new
Remark 24.] OCCASIONAL REFLECTIONS. 427
new fundamentals. For such a one, only, it is seen to
fit. " " In conclusion (says he) LET INFIDELITY DO
ITS WORST." And so it may, for what our Examiner
or his fellows seem inclined to oppose to its progress.
They keep guard, as our Author says ; they perform
watch and ward as the law requires : and let such as
like it go to blows for them. One of my most ahusive
adversaries, in a book he wrote against me, intitled,
A Reply to Mr. fV s Appendix in his second Volume of
The Divine Legation, has a long digression (for it has
nothing to do in the dispute between him and me) of
seventy pages, to prove that the miracles and morality of
Paganism equal those of Judaism and Christianity : in
which he has made a very elaborate collection of passages
from classic writers, drawn up and set in battle-array
against parallel places of Scripture. Eight or ten clergy
men of the Church of England have found leisure and
inclination to write against The Divine Legation, nobody
knows for what; and yet not one of them has taken the
least notice of this open barefaced insult and defiance of
Revelation. But what then ? Mr. Tillard, no doubt, was
considered by them as a fellow-labourer in a good cause.
Or was it, for that he is an active member of the Society
for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts ?
of which, indeed, in these passages he has given a proof.
For finding it was for staying at home, he, like a good
member as he is, does his best to send it packing ! But
still, says our Examiner, " let infidelity do its worst."
And does he indeed think it could do worse than what
himself has here attempted ? I had wrote a dissertation ;
which, if it has any reality or foundation, in reason or
Scripture, is of the highest service to religion: and,
principally, on these two accounts, first, as rescuing a
passage out of the hands of libertines, which was more
obnoxious to the objections of infidelity than any in the
whole Bible : and secondly, as discovering a real and sub
stantial circumstance of connexion and. dependency between
the Old and New Testament ; not subject to any of those
objections which arise from typical or allegorical inter
pretations. Now, against such a discourse, so directed,
was it natural to conceive, that a Divine of name should
Address himself) with much haughtiness and malice, to
write
4*8 REMARKS, See. [Part tl.
write an elaborate confutation ? v Would not a good man,
who had a real regard for the interests of religion, and
was persuaded of the weakness of my discourse, have left
it to some unthinking, unbelieving Scribbler, to expose ?
And here, let me call, seriously, upon this learned man,
to lay his hand upon his heart, and to acquit himself of
his intentions, before the public ; who finding nothing in
this dissertation (how erroneous soever it may be deemed)
either of Heresy or Libertinism, will needs be at a loss
to discover any good purpose, in an attempt so seemingly
inconsistent with his character and profession. For the
public sees he has taken the unbelievers task out of their
hands, and executed it with such a spirit, as cannot chuse
but give them the highest satisfaction.
" Hoc Ithacus velit, et magno mercentur Atridae."
END OF THE ELEVENTH VOLUME-.
Lndon : Print ed bj Luke Hansard &
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