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 
