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> O R K S 

or THE 

RIGHT REVEREND 

WILLIAM WARBURTON, D.D. 

LORD BISHOP OF GLOUCESTER. 

A NEW EDITION, 
IN TWELVE VOLUMES. 



TO WIIJCII IS PRF.F1XED 

S B BK rwi Of GENERAL PREFACE, 

CONTAINING 

SOME ACCOUNT OF THE LIFK, WRmSGS, AND CHAHACTTO 
OF T1IJE AUTHOK; 

BY RICHARD HURD, D.D. 

.IOBD BISHOP OF \YORCE-T1,R 



VOLT) ME THE EIGHT H. 




Jlonfionj 

/ae.jr 7, 

T.CADF.LL AND M^DAVIKS. UN THK STJiAN 
181 1. 



CONTENTS 

o? 

VOL. VIII. 



JULIAN : or, A Discourse concerning the Earthquake 
and Fieri/ E> upturn, zchich defeated that Emperors Attempt 
to rebuild the Temple at Jerusalem: In which the Reality 
of a Divine Interposition is shewn ; the Objections to it 
are answered ; and the Nature of that Evidence, which 
demands the Assent of every reasonable Man to a Mira 
culous Fact, is considered and explained. 

INTRODUCTION * P- m - 

BOOK I. Chaps, i . to 5. - - PP- 3394 

I5ooK II. Chaps, i. to 6. CONCLUSION, pp. 95236 

THE DOCTRINE OF GRACE; or, The Office and 
Operations of the Holy Spirit vindicated from the Insults 
of Infidelity and the J buses of Fanaticism: With some 
Thoughts (humbly offered to the Consideration of the 
Esia:ms,ie:l Clergy) rejrardinsr the right Method of dee 
fending Keligiou against the Attacks of either Party. 

ADVERTISEMENT to the First Edition - p. 239 

PREFACE - ]"-> 241 

JSooK I. Chaps, i. to 10. - pp: 249 302 

BOOK LI. Chaps, i. to 12. - pp. 33 46 

BOOK III. Chaps, i. to 3. - pp. 407 455 



J U L IAN. 

OR, A 

DISCOURSE, 
i 

CONCERNING 

THE EARTHQUAKE AND FIERY ERUPTION 

WHICH DEFEATED THAT EMPEROR^ 
ATTEMPT TO REBUILD THE TEMPLE AT JERUSALEM : 

IN WHICH 

THE REALITY OF A DIVINE INTERPOSITION 

IS SHEWN-, 

THE OBJECTIONS TO IT 

ARE ANSWERED-, 

AND THE NATURE OF THAT EVIDENCE, 

WHICH DEMANDS THE ASSENT OF EVERY REASONABLE 
MAN TO A MIRACULOUS FACT, 

15 CONSIDERED AND EXPLAINED. 



Nesciunt Necessaria, quia supervacanea dedicerunt. 

SENECA. 



VOL. VIII, B 



INTRODUCTION. 



A SOVEREIGN Contempt for the authority of 
the FATHERS, and no great reverence for any 
other, is what now-a-days constitutes a Protestant in 
fashion. But, as I imagine Religion loseth somewhat, 
and Learning a great deal more, by the neglect in which 
the FATHERS lye at present, I should have been tempted 
to say a word or two in their behalf, even though the 
subject of the following sheets did not require that 
they, whose testimony I make some use of, should 
have their pretensions fairly stated, and their character 
examined. But what is here insinuated to the dis 
credit of the present mode in theology with regard to 
the FATHERS is by no means said in favour of the 
past, but of that which good sense seems disposed to 
place between them. 

Their authority had now, for many ages, been held 
sacred. Although by taking the Greek philosophy, in 
which they had been nurtured, for their guide in ex 
plaining the nature and genius of the GOSPEL, they 
had unhappily turned religion into an art ; which 
their successors, the SCHOOLMEN, soon after turned 
into a trade. But, as irfaTl matters where reason doth 
not hoicTthe balance, that authority, which had been 
extravagantly advanced, was, on the turn of the times, 

B 2 a* 



iv INTRODUCTION 

as extravagantly undervalued : It may not therefore be? 
amiss to acquaint the English reader, in few words, 
how all this came to pass. 

When the avarice and ambition of the church of 
Rome had, by working with the superstition and igno 
rance of the people, erected what it calls the HIE 
RARCHY, which was the digesting an ecclesiastical policy 
on the ruins of gospel liberty, they found nothing of 
such use for the a^iiimstratiori and support of this 
spiritual system * as the making the authority of the 
FATHERS sacred, and consequently decisive. For this 
church having introduced numerous errors and super 
stitions, both in rites and doctrines, which the silence and 
the declarations of scripture equally condemned, they 
were obliged to seal up those living oracles, and open 
this new warehouse of the dead. And it was no won 
der if, in that shoal of writers which the great drag-net 
of time (as a poet of our own calls it) had inclosed and 
brought down to us, under the name of FATHERS, there 
should be some amongst them of a character suited to 
countenance any kind of folly or extravagance. Their 
decisions, therefore, it was thought fit should be treated 
as laws ; and collected into a kind of code, under the 
title of the Sentences. 

From this time every thing was tried at the bar of 
the fathers ; and so unquestioned was their jurisdic 
tion, that when the great Defection was made from the 
Church of Rome, the Reformed, though they shook off 
the tyranny of the POPE, could not disengage themselves 

* Comme 1 autorite fait le fondement de cettc etude [la^theo- 
logie] il est juste de deferer ABSOLUMENT non seulement h I Ecn- 
ture sainte, mais encore aux sentimens des Peres, qm nous ont 
explique la tradition, sur tout a ceux que I Eglita a canonisez, pour 
ainsi di re, par son approbation, on en tout ou en partie: Traite 
etudes monastiques, par Mabillon, p. 360. 

from 



T o J U L I A N. T 

from the unbounded authority of the FATHERS; but 
carried that prejudice with them (as they did some 
others, of a worse complexion) into the REFORMATION . 
For, in religious matters, novelty being suspicious, and 
antiquity venerable, the Reformed thought it for their 
credit to have the F ATHENS on their side. They seemed 
neither to consider antiquity in general as a thing rela 
tive, nor Christian-antiquity as a thing positive: either 
of which considerations would have shewn them, that 
the FATHERS themselves were modern, compared to 
that authority on which the Reformed founded their 
churches ; and that the GOSPEL was that true antiquity 
on which they should repose their confidence *. The 
effect of this error w 7 as, that in the long appeal to truth 
between Protestants and Papists (both of them going on 
a common principle, that the authority of the FATHERS 
was decisive), the latter were enabled to prop up their 
credit against all the evidence of common sense and 
sacred scripture. 

* The Roman Catholics have long objected to us the antiquity 
of their church, as one of its greatest supports. But none of them 
have~Been so ingenuous as the excellent author of L Esprit dts Loix, 
to point out wherein the force of this argument consists. " L an- 
tiquite (fays he) cohvient a la Religion, parce -que souvent nous 
croyons plus les choses k mesure qu r elles sont plus reculees: car 
nous n avons pas dans la tete des idees accessoires tirees de ces 
terns-Ik qui puissent les contredire." Vol. II. p. 203, 8vo ecL 
Force we see it has. But then unluckily it lyes in the supposition of 
Popery s being a false, not a true church. For though false religion 
acquires an advantage from the oblivion of those discrediting 
circumstances which attended its original, and of which by time 
we are now deprived; yet true religion receives much damage from 
the same effects of time ; because several circumstances, long since 
lost, which accompanied its birih, must neeHs have greatly con 
firmed its character. For it is as much in the nature of things that 
the circumstances attending truth should confirm it, as that the 
circumstances attending error should detect it. 

B3 At 



vi INTRODUCTION 

At length an excellent writer of the Reformed reli 
gion, observing that the controversy was likely to be 
endless (for though the gross corruptions of Popery 
were certainly later than the third, fourth, and fifth 
centuries, to which the appeal was usually made, yet 
the seeds of them being then sown, and beginning to 
pullulate, it was but too plain theie was hold enough 
for a skilful debater to draw the FATHERS to his own 
side, and make them water the sprouts they had been 
planting); M. Daille, I say, observing this, wisely pro 
jected to shift the ground, and force the disputants on 
both sides to vary their method of attack as well as 
of defence. In order to this he composed a discourse 
Of the true use of the Fathers *. In w^hich, with 
admirable learning, and force of argument, he shewed, 
that the FATHERS were incompetent Deciders of the 
controversies now on foot ; since the points in question 
were not formed into articles till long after the ages in 
which those FATHERS lived. This was bringing them 
from the bench to the table ; degrading them from the 
rank of judges, into the class of simple evidence; in 
which Daille too was not for suffering them to speak, 
like Irish Evidence, in every cause where they were 
wanted, but only to such matters as were agreed to be 
within their competence. Had this learned critic 
stopped here, his book had been free from blame ; 
but then in all likelihood his honest purpose had been 
rendered ineffectual: for old prejudices are not to be set 
straight by barely reducing the obliquity to that straight 
line which just restores it to its rectitude. He went much 
further : and by shewing, occasionally, that they were 
absurd interpreters of scripture; that they were bad 
reasoners in morals; and very loose evidence in facts; 
he seemed willing to have his reader infer, that, even 

* De I Emploi dcs Peres. 

though 



TO JULIAN. vS 

though they had been masters of their subject, yet these 
other detects would have rendered them very unquali 
fied deciders. 

However, the work of this famous foreigner had 
great consequences .: and especially with us here at 
home. The more learned amongst the nobility (an 
order, which, at that time, was of the republic of 
letters) were the first who emancipated themselves 
from the general prejudice. It brought the incom 
parable LoTd_Falkland to think moderately of the 
FATHERS, and to turn his theological inquiries into a 
more useful channel. And his great rival in arts, though 
not in virtue, the famous Lord Dig by, found it of 
such use to him, in his defence of the Reformed religion 
against his cousin Sir Kenhelm, that he has even epi 
tomised temploi des Peres, in his fine Letter on that 
subject. But, what it hath chiefly to boast is, that it 
gave birth to the two best defences ever written, on 
the two best of subjects, Religion and Liberty, I mean 
Mr. Chilling-worth s Religion of Protestants, and Dr. 
Jer. Taylor s Liberty of Prophesying. In a word, it 
may be truly said to be the storehouse, from whence all 
who have since written popularly on the character of 
the FATHERS have derived their materials. 

Dr. Whitby, in whose way they fell as Interpreters 
of Scripture, hath, in imitation of the pattern Daille 
set him, made a large collection from their writings, 
to expose their talents for criticism*. In the same 
manner, and in a larger volume, Mr. Barbeyrac after 
wards treated their pretensions to the science of 
Ethics | : And now of late the very learned and inge 
nious Dr. Middleton, finding them in the support of 
Monkish miracles, hath written as largely to prove 

* Dissert, de S. S. interpretations sccuad. P&tres. 
f La Morale des Peres, fyc. 

B4 their 



viii INTRODUCTION 

their testimony in matters of fact to be none of the 
strongest. 

So that these .several constituent parts of their cha 
racter being thus taken up in their turns; and the 
whole order exposed, as incompetent judges of doc 
trine, as trilling interpreters of scripture, as bad mo 
ralists, and as slippery evidence ; it is no wonder the 
English reader, who only measures them by such repre 
sentations, should be disposed to think very irreverently 
of these early lights of the Christian Church. 

But, let us divest ourselves of prejudice, whether 
we think with the few or the many ; and we shall soon 
understand that in the heat of a contention evidence 
will be apt to be overrated. Nay, when fairly esti 
mated, no reflecting man will think himself able to 
form a true judgment of a character , when no more of 
it is laid before him than a collection of its blots and 
blemishes. 

Till of late, there were always some who could pre 
serve their candour and moderation, which in religion 
and politics, where our highest interests are concerned, 
is no easy matter ; and these men were wont to say, 
" That though we should indeed suppose the fathers 
to be as fanciful divines, as bad critics, and as unsafe 
moralists, as Daille, Whitby, and Barbeyrac, are 
pleased to represent them, yet this would take little 
from the integrity of their evidence : and what we 
want of the.n is only their testimony to facts." But 
now, even this small remain of credit is thought too 
much to be allowed them ; and, of this, the learned 
author of the Free Inquiry, by exposing their excessive 
credulity in point of false miracles*, hath laboured to 

deprive 

* " Videmus, quanto dignitatis detrimento hie error credendi 
" recipiendique omnia facilitas afiecerit ex ecclesiasticis historiis 

" nonnullasj 



TO JULIAN. ix 

deprive them. But, controversy apart, their testimony 
to common facts may yet stand good. I see no reason 
why their veracity should be brought in question when 
they bear witness to the state of religion in their own 
times, because they disgraced their judgment, in giving 
ear to every strange tale of Monkish extraction. The 
most learned and virtuous divine of the barbarous 
ages is the venerable Bede ; and the honestest as 
well as most discerning historian of those, or perhaps 
of any age, is Matthew Paris : yet their propensity to 
recount the wonderful exceeds ail imagination. Nei 
ther learning, judgment, nor integrity, could secure 
them against the general contagion. Now, if this dis 
position was in them (as is confessed) only the vice of 
the times, is it not imjust to ascribe the same dispo 
sition in the fathers, to the vice of the men ? 

But our folly has ever been, and is likely to conti 
nue, to judge of antiquity by a modern standard : 
when, if we would form reasonable ideas of it, we 
should weigh it with its own. We examine the conceits 
of a BASIL or an AUSTIN, on the test of the improved 
reasoning of our own times. And we do well. It 
is the way to read them with profit. But when, from 
a contempt of their logic, which follows this compa 
rison, w r e come to despise their other accomplishments 
of parts and learning, we betray gross ignorance or 
injustice. To know the true value of the fathers, we 
should place them by their contemporaries, the Pagan 
writers of greatest estimation ; and if they suffer in 
their neighbourhood ; e en let them stay, where most 
of them already are, with the grocers. But it is a fact 

none 

" nonnullas ; quae nimis facilesse prrebuerunt, in prodendis trans- 
" cribendisque miraculis, a martyribus, eremitis, anachoretis, et 
" aliis sanctis viris, atque ab eorum reliquiis, sepulcris, sacellis, 
" imaginibus editis." Bacon de Augm. Scien. 



x INTRODUCTION 

none acquainted with antiquity will deny, how great a 
secret soever modern divines may make of it, that as 
polite scholars (which is the thing their despisers now 
most affect to value) the Christian writers have indis 
putably the advantage, both in eloquence and ethics. 
And we may venture to say that there are some of 
them who have successively rivaled the best writers of 
the higher and purer antiquity. St. Chrysostome has 
more good sense than Plato ; and the critic may find 
in Lactantius almost as many good words as in Tully. 
So that if on the principles of a classical taste, we 
discard the fathers, we should send along with them 
the Pagan writers of the same ages ; unless the won 
derful theology of the latter can atone for (what they 
both have in commonj their false rhetoric and bad 
reasoning. 

These imperfections, therefore, in both, being equal, 
it is plain they were the faults of the times. For 
whatever advantages the ancients had over us in the 
arts of poetry, oratory, and history, it is certain, we 
have over them in the science of reasoning, as far as it 
concerns the investigation of moral truth. 

Those who are not able to form a comparison be 
tween them, on their own knowledge, may be recon 
ciled to this conclusion, when the peculiar hindrances, 
in the ancient world, to the advancement of moral 
truth, on the principles of a just logic, have been laid 
before them. 

The cultivation of the art of reasoning was, in the 
most early times of learning, in the hands of their 
ORATORS and SOPHISTS. Whatever was the profes 
sion, the real business of the orator was not to con 
vince, but to persuade ; and not in favour of truth, 
but of convenience or utility : which, again, was not 
general utility (for that coincides with truth), but 
23 particular; 



TO JULIAN. xi 

particular; which is often at variance with it. So 
that their art of reasoning was as much an art to 
hinder the discovery of truth*, as to promote it 
Nor was that part which was employed in the support 
of error merely lost to the service of truth. The 
mischief went further. It brought in man, fallacious 
rules and modes of reasoning, which greatly embar 
rassed and misled the advocate when employed in 
a better cause. Particularly those by similitude and 
analogy : which had their rise from hence ; and soon 
spread, like a leprosy, over all the argumentation of 
antiquity. 

We need not wonder then, if under this manage 
ment truth was rarely found. What seems to be 
more wonderful is, that, when it was tbund, its value 
was so little understood that it was as frequently 
sacrificed to the empty vanity , as to the more solid 
interests of the disputer. For the sophists, the spe 
culative inquirers after truth, made their wisdom (from 
whence they took their name) to consist in bringing 
truth to the side of their reasoning; not their reasoning 
to the side of truth. Hence it became the glory of 
their profession to demonstrate for, or against any 
opinion, indifferently : and they were never better 
pleased than when that proposition (let it be what it 
would) was prescribed to them for their subject, 
which their auditors had a mind should be the truth. 
The difficulties they frequently had to encounter, 
in support of so extravagant a character, introduced 
into the ancient reasoning new modes of fallacies, a 
set of metaphysical quibbles ; which being the inven 
tion of these SOPHISTS, or wise men, are fitted only 
to impose on others as wise. 

* Ubi vero animis judirum vis afferenda est, et ab ipsa veri 
contemplatione abduceiida mens, IBI PROPRIUM ORATORIS OPUS 
ST. Quint. 1. vi. c. li. 

But 



xii INTRODUCTION 

But though so much had been done to betray, to 
discredit, and to estrange us from truth ; yet common 
sense revolts against every thing when it becomes, to 
a certain degree, unnatural. This insolent abuse of 
reason, now proceeding to an open mockery of truth, 
brought the sophists into public contempt ; and gave 
room to another set of men, of a modester denomina 
tion, to raise themselves upon their ruins. 

These were the PHILOSOPHERS: and to these, it 
must be owned, the Gentile world owed all its real 
improvements in the art of reasoning, and advance 
ment in truth. But the defects of their constitution, 
the errors of their principles, and the folly of their con 
duct, were so great, that truth was kept in that state 
of inferiority, in \\hich, we say, it came to and was 
unhappily espoused by \bsfathefs. It would ill suit 
the confined nature of this discourse to explain these 
things at large : we can only hint at some of the most 
considerable of their errors. 

They soon ran into the two extremes, of scepticism 
and dogmatizing ; of all other, the two disorders of the 
mind, most hurtful to sound reason. These maladies 
they contracted of the stock from which they sprung, 
the sophists: who, by their custom of disputing for 
and against every thing, brought every thing, in its 
turn, according to the temper of the recipients, to be 
firmly embraced, or wantonly suspected. For extremes 
often beget, and, when they have begot, always sup 
port one another. 

A second violation of right reason was that prin 
ciple, which they all held in common, that truth was 
ever to give place to utility. A principle which had 
the appearance of modesty, as seeming only to imply, 
what is too true, that we are less able to judge of 
causes thane^ lets; but, indeed, the natural issue of 

the 



TO JULIAN. 



Xlll 



the inveteracy and absurdity of popular Paganism, 
and of its incorporation with the state. 

Another principle as universal, and no less injurious 
to the rights of reason, was that the" fundamental 
doctrines of each sect were to be held unquestioned 
by its followers. For, in most societies, truth is but 
the second care ; thejirstis to provide for themselves : 
and as this can be done only by uniformity of opinions, 
and opinions will continue no longer uniform than 
while they remain unquestioned, an ifse dixit was the 
rule of all, though the badge only of a single sect. 
These several defects in the constitution of ancient 
philosophy had, in course of time, brought on others. 
The dogmatists, as was natural, grew enthusiastic ; 
and the sceptics immoral. The t\vo worst disorders 
that can befall a searcher after truth ; for her abode 
is neither in the clouds, nor on the dung-hill. 

Take then all these things together, and we shall 
see, they must be insuperable bars to any great im 
provement, in the science of moral reasoning. 

But to this it will be said, that those two famous 
instruments of truth, LOGIC and MATHEMATICS, were, 
the one invented, and the other highly advanced, in 
these ver) ages. It is certain they were. But if 
the plain truth may be told, the use of these boasted 
instruments goes no further than to assist us, the one 
in the FORM of reasoning^ the other in the METHOD of 
discourse. 

Aristotle s invention of the Categories was a sur 
prising effort of human wit. But, in practice, logic 
is more a trick than a science, formed rather to amuse 
than to instruct. And, in some sort, we may apply 
to the art of syllogism what a man of wit * has ob- 

* Butler. 

served 



xiv INTRODUCTION 

served of rhetoric, that it only tells us how to name 
those tools, which nature had before put into our 
hands, and habit taught the use of. However, all its 
real virtue consists in the compendious detection of a 
fallacy. This is all the service it can do for truth. In 
the service of Chicane, indeed, it is a mere juggler s 
knot, now fast, now loose ; and the schools, where this 
legerdemain was exercised in great perfection, are full 
of the stories of its wonders. But its true value is 
now well known : and there is but little need to put it 
lower in the general estimation. 

However, what logic hath lost of its credit, mathe 
matics have gained. And geometry is now supposed 
to do wonders as well in the system of man as of mat 
ter. It must be owned, the real virtue it hath, it 
had acquired long since : for, by what is left us of 
antiquity, we see how elegantly it was then handled, 
and how sublimely it was pursued. But the truth is, 
all its use, for the purpose in question, besides what 
hath been already mentioned, seems to be only habi 
tuating the mind to think long and closely : and it 
would be well if this advantage made amends for some 
inconveniencies, as inseparable from its study. It 
may seem perhaps too much a paradox to say, that 
long habit in this science incapacitates the mind for 
reasoning at large, and especially in the search of 
moral truth. And yet, I believe, nothing is more 
certain. The object of geometry is demonstration ; 
its subject admits of it, and is almost the only subject 
that doth. In this science, whatever is not demon 
stration, goes for nothing ; or is at least below the 
sublime inquirer s regard. Probability, through its 
almost infinite degrees, from simple doubt up to ab 
solute certainty, is the terra incognita of the geometer. 
And yet here it is that the great business of the 

human 



TO JULIAN. xv 

human mind, the search and discovery of all the im 
portant truths which concern us as reasonable beings, 
is carried on. And here too it is that all its vigour 
is exerted : for to proportion the assent to the pro 
bability accompanying every varying degree of moral 
evidence, requires the most enlarged and sovereign 
exercise of reason. But, as to excel in the use of 
any thing, the habit must always be in proportion to 
the difficulty, it seems very unlikely that the geometer 
(long confined to the routine of demonstration, the 
easiest exercise of reason, where much less of the vigour 
than of the attention of mind is required to excel), 
should form a right judgment on subjects, whose truth 
or falsehood is to be rated on the degrees of moral 
evidence. I venture to call mathematics the easiest 
exercise of reason, on the authority of Cicero, who ob 
serves, that scarce any man ever set himself upon this 
study, who didnot make what progress in it he pleased*. 
But besides acquired inability, prejudice renders the 
veteran mathematician still less capable of judging of 
moral evidence. He who hath been so long accus 
tomed to lay together and compare ideas, and hath 
reaped demonstration, the richest fruit of speculative 
truth, for his labour, regards all the lower degrees of 
evidence as in the trainonly of his mathematical prin 
cipality : and he commonly ranks them in so arbitrary 
a manner, that the ratio ultima mathematicorum is 
become almost as great a libel upon common sense, as 
other sovereign decisions. I might appeal, for the 
truth of this, to those wonderful conclusions which 

* Quis ignorat. ii, qui mathematici vocantur, quanta in ob- 
scuritate rerum, et quam recondita in arte et multiplici, subtilique 
versentur ? quo tamen in genere ita multi pertecti homines exis- 
terunt, ut nemo fere studuisse ei scientiae vehementius videatur, 
qum quod voluerit, consecutus sit. De Orat. 1. i. 

geometers, 



xvi INTRODUCTION 

geometers, when condescending to write on history, 
ethics, or theology, have made from their premisses. 
But the thing is notorious : and it is now no secret 
that the oldest mathematician in England is the worst 
reasoner in it. But I would not be mistaken, as under 
valuing the many useful discoveries made from time 
to time in moral matters by professed mathematicians. 
Nor will any one so mistake me, who does not first 
confound the genius and the geometer ; and then con 
clude that what was the atchievement of his wit, was 
the product of his theorems. 

Yet still it must be owned, that this discipline 
habituates the mind to think closely ; jmd may help 
us to a good method of composition. In those most 
unpromising ages, when informs of the schools were 
as tedious and intricate, as the matter they treated was 
absurd or trifling, it hath had force enough to break 
through the bondage of custom, and to clear away the 
thorns that then perplexed and overgrew the paths 
of learning. Thomas Bradwardin, a mathematician, 
and archbishop of Canterbury, in the fourteenth cen 
tury, in his famous book De causa Dei, hath treated 
his subject, not as it was wont to be handled in the 
schools, but in the better method of the geometers. 
And in another instance, of more importance, he hath 
given the age he lived in an example to emancipate 
itself from the slavery of fashion ; I mean, in his 
attempt (as by his freedom with the fathers it seems 
to be) of reducing tneir extravagant authority to more 
reasonable bounds. But yet, so true is the foregoing 
observation, that though mathematics, in good hands, 
could do this, it could do no more : all the opening 
it gave to truth could not secure Bradwardin from the 
dishonour of becoming advocate for the most absurd 
opinion that ever was, the Anti-Pelagian doctrine of 

St. Austin; 



TO JULIAN. xvii 

St. Austin ; in which the good archbishop was so 
much in earnest, that he calls the defence of it, the 
cause of God. 

To return. Such was the state and condition of the 
human understanding in the ancient world, rather a 
mechanical than a moral or intellectual cultivation of 
reason, when CHRISTIANITY arose ; and on such 
principles as were best fitted to correct those errors 
and prejudices, which had so long and so fatally 
retarded the progress of truth. It would require a 
just volume to treat this matter as it deserves. The 
nature of my work will not permit me to do it. I 
shall only give a single instance, but an instance of 
importance, namely, the use of those principles in 
discovering the true end of man ; and in directing 
him to the right mean of attaining it. 

The knowledge of the ONE GOD, as the moral and 
immediate Governor of the Universe, directly leads us 
to the Supreme Good; and the doctrine of FAITH in 
Him, directly inspiring the love of truth, enables us 
to procure it. 

In Paganism, the end was totally obscured, by its 
having alway kept the true God, the supreme good, 
out of sight, which therefore must be needs sought in 
vain ; and the true mean entirely lost, by the introduc 
tion of a number of false ones. 

These were amongst the great principles revealed by 
heaven for the advancement of moral knowledge : and 
in time they had their effect : though indeed some 
what with the latest. For it is not to be dissembled, 
that here, as in most other cases in the moral world, 
the perversity of man soon ran counter to God s good 
Providence; which had so admirably fitted and dis 
posed things for a general reform. 

I have said ihz fathers were, at least, equal, if not, 
VOJL. VIII. C superior, 



xviii INTRODUCTION 

superior, to those Gentile writers, their contempo 
raries, whom we most affect to admire : I shall now 
explain the unhappy causes (in which Religion and 
Reason suffered equally, as they always will surfer 
together) why the fathers did not, in the exactness 
of their logic, and in the purity of their ethics, infinitely 
surpass them. 

The first preachers of the Gospel were the inspired 
messengers of the WORD. They committed its dic 
tates to writing ; and with that purity and splendor in 
which they drew them from the fountain of truth. 

Their immediate followers, whom we are wont to call 
the apostolic fathers, received at their hands the doc 
trine of life, in all the simplicity of understanding as well 
as heart. It cannot be said that their writings do much 
honour to the rational sublimity of our holy religion : 
but then they have not hurt or violated the integrity 
of sacred truth. I or false philosophy had not yet made 
havock of the faith. If, in their writings, we see but 
little of that manly elegance of reason, which makes 
the writings of their inspired predecessors so truly ad 
mirable ; and is so striking a proof of the reality of that 
inspiration : yet still there is as little of those adulterate 
and polluted ornaments, which their successors brought 
from the brothels of Pagan philosophy, to stain the 
sanctity of religion. And let me add, that though the 
early prospect of things may not be, in all respects, 
what we could wish it ; yet there is one circumstance, 
which does great credit to our holy faith : It is this, 
that as the integrity and dignity of its simple and per 
fect nature refused all fellowship with the adulterate 
arts of Grecian learning ; so the admirable display of 
divine wisdom in disposing the parts, and conducting 
the course of the grand system of redemption, was 
not to be tolerably apprehended but by an improved 

and 



T o J U L I A N. 

and well-disciplined understanding. Both these quali 
ties suited the nobility of its original. It could bear 
no communion with error \ and was as little fitted to 
consort with Ignorance. 

The men of science were not the first who attended 
to the call of the Gospel. It was not to be expected 
they should be the first. Their station presented many 
prejudices against it. It was taught by simple unlettered 
men, whose condition they held in contempt ; and it 
required that they, who had been till now the teachers 
of mankind, should become learners. The doctrines 
of the Gospel had indeed this to recommend them, 
that they were rational^ but the philosophers were 
already no strangers to those principles of natural 
religion which Christianity adopted, such as the unity 
of the Godhead, his moral government, and the essen 
tial difference between good and eviL The attesta 
tions to its truth were wonderful; but these, their 
principles of false philosophy enabled them to evade : 
so that their passions and prejudices, for some time, 
supported them in holding out against all the con 
viction of gospel- evidence. 

But it was not thus with plainer men. They sub 
mitted to its force with less reluctance. Philosophy 
had secreted from the prophane vulgar the high truths 
of natural law, which is taught to the initiated con 
cerning the one true God and his worship. When the 
Gospel openly proclaimed these truths, with others of 
the like repose and comfort to the human mind, these 
propkane vulgar eagerly embraced it. And as Gre 
cian wisdom could not keep them from believing what 
was thus revealed ; so neither did that wisdom, falsely 
so called, tempt them to viciate it, after they had em 
braced it. They were apt, indeed, to run into the 
opposite extreme, and, reflecting of how little use phi- 

c losophy 



xx INTRODUCTION 

losophy had ever been to the body of mankind, and 
how violently it now opposed the new religion, which 
had the body of mankind for its object, they became 
much disposed to avoid or neglect all prophane litera 
ture, without distinction. They saw, in the power of 
miracles, a more efficacious way of propagating the 
faith : and they thought they saw, in St. Paul s censure 
of the Grecian wisdom, the condemnation of all hu 
man literature, in general. St. Paul had himself ab 
stained from their meretricious eloquence, and had 
cautioned posterity against their magical philosophy. 
The first, lest it should occasion a suspicion that 
the faith had made its way rather by the arts of 
human speech, than by the power of the spirit : The 
latter, because he saw it was fatally framed to infect 
religion ; and had some experience, and more divine 
foreknowledge, that it would speedily do so. 

Indeed the time was at hand. For the convictive 
evidence and rapid progress of the Gospel had so 
shaken and disconcerted learned pride, that the next 
age saw a torrent of believers pour into the church, 
from the schools of their rhetors, the colleges of their 
philosophers, and the cloisters of their priests. The 
sincerity of these illustrious converts in embracing a 
religion which did not hold out, so much as in distant 
prospect, any advantages of the temporal kind, cannot 
be fairly brought in question. Their discretion, their 
prudence, were the things most wanted. For that 
passion of new converts, zeal, which is then least 
under the direction of knowledge when zeal most needs 
it, hindered them from making their advantages of the 
principles of revelation ; so admirably fitted, as we 
have shewn, to improve human nature on that side 
where its perfection lies, I mean, in the high attain 
ments of moral science. For, instead of reasoning 

from 



TO JULIAN. xxi 

from truths clearly revealed, and so, from things 
known, to advance, by due degrees, in the method of 
the mathematicians, to the discovery of truths unknown, 
They travested obscure uncertainties, nay, manifest 
errors, into truth ; and sought in philosophy and logic, 
analogies and quibbles to support them. 

Their two great objects, as became them, were to 
increase the number of believers : and to defend the 
faith against infidels and heretics. 

Amongst the means they employed for the speedy 
conversion of the world, one was to bring Christianity 
as near to the genius of the Gentile religion, and of the 
Greek philosophy, as could be done without giving 
offence to themselves or their brethren. They thought 
It but prudent to avail themselves of the prejudices of 
Paganism ; and perhaps they themselves were not tree 
from all remains of those prejudices. The Jewish law, 
ill understood, satisfied them in the propriety of these 
means. They saw there, compliances made by God 
himself to the prejudices and superstitions of the times. 
But this was all they saw : They did not reflect that 
a local worship, instituted for peculiar and temporary 
ends, was to be conducted on maxims different from 
what was required in an universal religion, erected on 
the general principles of spirit and truth. They did not 
reflect that one mean was to be pursued when the end 
was to keep a chosen family from the contagion of 
idol worship; and another when an idolatrous world 
was to be invited to the profession of SAVING FAITH. 

It is very observable, that, while t\\Qfathers were 
thus dishonouring Christianity by giving it the fashion 
able air of Paganism, the philosophers, on their side, 
were as busy in reforming and purifying their systems 
on the model of the great truths of Revelation*. 

* Sec the Divine Legation. 

c 3 And, 



.xxii INTRODUCTION 

And, what is yet more strange, this mutual approach 
still kept them at an irreconciled distance. For the 
advances on both sides were made for no other end 
than that each might the better keep their own ground ; 
the philosophers, by conciliating the reason ; the fa 
thers, by indulging the passions ; into which various 
conduct they were alike betrayed by the condition of 
our common nature, unable either to bear pure and 
simple truth, or gross and undisguised error. 

There were two things in Paganism, which, as they 
excited and kept up that amusing exercise of the 
mind, admiration, did, more strongly than any else, 
hold the people attached to idolatry ; and these were 

MYSTERIOUS RITES and HIDDEN DOCTRINES. 

One would have thought it hard to find an equiva 
lent for these in so simple and perfect a religion as the 
Christian ; yet the figurative expressions used in the 
institution of the Lord s supper, and the frequent 
mention of mysteries throughout the New Testament 
(though it be of mysteries which the genius of the 
gospel had revealed and explained, not of mysteries 
which it invented and kept hidden), gave occasion to 
accommodators to ancient prejudices to speak of the 
last supper as a mysterious rite, to which they ven 
tured to apply all the terms in use at the celebration 
of the Pagan mysteries ; and to speak of REDEMPTION 
as of one of those hidden doctrines, which the fanatic 
Platonists of that time boasted they had in trust, for 
the purification and advancement of human nature. 

This will account for a circumstance that never 
fails of giving scandal to the readers of Church- 
history : which is, that the principles and doctrines of 
the ancient Heretics were infinitely more shocking and 
absurd than those of any modern sectaries. The reason 
(we see) is, that the ancient Heretics formed theif 

tenets 



TO JULIAN. xxiii 

tenets on the principles of Pagan philosophy ; while 
the modern sectaries form theirs on the books of 
sacred Scripture. And though the one was on philo 
sophy reformed and purified, .and the other is on the 
Bible perverted and misunderstood, yet the difference 
in favour of the latter becomes immense. 

This mysterious genius of Paganism, together with 
its popular absurdities, naturally produced a method 
of teaching, which always pleases the imagination in 
proportion as it disgusts the judgment, that is to say, 
the use of allegory. A practice, excellently fitted to 
cover the early follies of vulgar Gentilism, and to 
ornament the late knaveries of the philosophic ; but 
very abhorrent of the genius of Christianity, where 
every doctrine was rational, and therefore every rite 
should have been plain and open. Yet as allegory was 
become the general vehicle of instruction, and that 
which particularly distinguished the school of Plato ; 
the FATHERS, who leaned most towards that sect, 
thought fit to go into that fashionable mode. They 
allegorized every thing ; and their success was such as 
might be expected from so absurd an accommodation. 
Here again they were misled in their ignorance of the 
nature of the Jewish law : a law full of allegories, and 
figurative representations. And with great propriety 
so, as that religion was dependent on, and preparatory 
to the Gospel: which, being its end and completion, 
required to have some shadow of itself delineated in the 
steps which led to it. But this, which shews the use 
of allegories to be reasonable in the Old Testament, 
shews the folly of expecting them in the New. For 
when the substance was advanced, and placed in full 
light, the shadow was of course to be cast behind. 
Yet, by the most unaccountable perversity, the very 
reason which the apostle gives for the necessity of 

c 4 interpreting 



xxiv INTRODUCTION 

interpreting the law figuratively, that the letter killet/t, 
tut the spirit gvveth life, was made the authority for 
using the Gospel in the same manner. 

We have said, that the school to which the FATHERS 
chiefly inclined, was the Academy. There is a passage 
in St. Austin, which shews to what excess the authority 
of Plato was carried. In his Confessions, he returns 
thanks to God for having made the books of Plato 
an instrument of redeeming him from the errors of 
Manicheism. His partialities for that philosopher 
must have strangely blinded him ; for, humanly speak 
ing, nothing could have more contributed to keep him 
a Manichean than the doctrines of Plato, who held 
two coeternal principles, Go4 and matter, and that the 
latter was the cause of evil. This fondness for the 
academy arose partly from its being the philosophy in 
vogue, and partly because (in consequence of that) 
several of the fathers came from that school into the 
church; but chiefly because they had entertained 
greater hopes of bringing over the Platonists to the 
faith, which, as Plato was in the highest credit, would 
be deemed a victory over philosophy in general. What 
they seemed to ground their hopes upon was the scep 
tical disposition of the academy as in its first institution. 
The earlier Platonists professed to seek truth; and 
were not ashamed to own they could not find it. It 
was therefore imagined they would gladly receive it, in 
doctrines so rationally deduced, and so clearly revealed. 
But in this they were deceived : for uncertainty is not 
the state and condition of the sceptic s knowledge, but 
the principle and the genius of it, and it was departing 
from the fundamental laws of their profession to 
acknowledge any thing certain. As for the enthusiastic 
part of this sect, w^hich was now daily getting ground, 
the magic to which they were so madly given, kept them 

confined 



TO JULIAN. xxv 

confined within its circle. This, and some manifest 
mischiefs, which even the warmest of the fathers could 
not but perceive, made them ever and anon, when in ill 
humour with a heretic, to execrate the schools of Plato, 
Aristotle, Pythagoras, &c. and denounce each of 
them, in their turns, to be the great nurseries of error : 
as Tertulliau did of the chief of them, who calls Plato 
the common cook and seasoner of heresy*. But, falsely 
supposing that the evil arose from this or that parti 
cular sect, when it had its root in the constitution of 
them all, they went on exclaiming against their parti 
cular doctrines, and theologizing and reasoning on 
their general principles. We say the fathers would 
sometimes call the Greek philosophy the nursery of 
heresy. Nothing is more true. And yet all the differ 
ence between the orthodox and the heretics, as far as con 
cerned their application of philosophy to religion, was 
only from less to more. The orthodox employed it to 
explain articles of faith; and the heretics to invent them. 

Thus much for a taste of the didactic theology of the 
fathers. Their polemic savoured as strongly of the 
same impure mixture. For, the form of argument, 
and force of confutation, came from the same shops : 
from the teaching rhetors, they learnt the art of rea 
soning by similitudes and analogies-, from the talking 
orators, that capital argument, called, ad hominem; 
and from the wrangling philosophers of the academy, 
the address of using any sort of principles, to support 
their own opinions, or confute their adversaries. The 
three lasting bars to the discovery and advancement 
of truth. 

But matters still grew from bad to worse ; till 
one black cloud of blind credulity had over-spread the 
Western world: this soon brought on a spiritual 

* Omnium Hsereticorum condimentarium. 

dominion, 



xxvi INTRODUCTION 

dominion, which took advantage of the confusions 
occasioned by the continued inroads of fierce barba 
rians, to strike its roots deep and wide into the fat and 
lumpish soil of Gothic ignorance. For as a temporal 
tyranny supports itself by corrupt manners, so a ^*- 
wVwtf/ established it s usurpation by corrupt doctrines. 
And, as in large empires subject to the temporal, the 
luxury of vice runs into delicacies; so, in those subject 
to the spiritual, the absurdity of doctrines hides itself 
in subtilties. Hence the original of the SCHOOLMEN S 
art ; as we find it completed in the PERIPATETIC code 
of sums and sentences. And this was in the order of 
things : that what the fanatic visions of the platonic 
philosophy had brought into the faith, the frigid sub- 
tilties of the Aristotelian should support *. And it is 
observable, that the use the schoolmen made of their 
disputatious genius, was just the same the sophists had 
made before them. For triumphant dulness commonly 
grows wanton in the exercise of imputed witf. And 
the Sic and Non of Peter Abelard was now as famous 
as heretofore the Tj^oGaAA/k of Gorgias. 

At length truth shot its ray into this chaos of disordered 
reason : but it came not directly from it s source ; but 

* It is remarkable, that the Mahometan Arabs, by the assist 
ance of the same philosophy, invented the same kind of scholastic 
theology : and, as with superior refinement, in proportion to the 
subtiler wits of that people ; so, with better judgment : for that 
which obscures reason, will always be a cover for absurdity. 

fit was held disgraceful when the subtile Doctor was so pressed 
by his opponent as to have no other way of extricating himself 
than by quoting Scripture (an expedient, in his ideas, like, that of 
introducing the God in the Machine^ which bungling poets were 
wont to have recourse to). M. Menage tells us he found the 
following entry in the register of the faculty at Paris " Solida 
* die sexta Julii ab Aurora ad vesperam fuit disputatum, et 
" quidem tarn SUBTILITER, ut ncwrbum gmdem de tota scrip" 
" twa fuerit allegatwn" 

from 



TO JULIAN. xxvii 

from the ferment of such passions as error and corrup 
tion are apt to raise amongst those who govern in, 
and benefit by, that state of confusion. For when a 
reform happens to arise from within, it cannot be 
supposed to iiave its birth in a love of truth ; hardly, 
in the knowledge of it. Generally, some corrupt pas 
sion gratifies itself by decrying the grosser errors, sup 
ported by, and supporting, those it hates. The 
machine thus set a-going, truth hath fair play : she 
is now in turn to procure friends, and to attach them 
to her service. This was the case in the revolution 
we are about to speak of ; and is the case of religious 
reformations in general. For if, in the state of such 
established error, Providence was to wait till a love of 
truth had set men upon shaking off their bondage, its 
dispensations could never provide that timely aid, 
which we now find they always do to distressed 
humanity. For when the corruption hath spread so 
wide, as to make truth, if by chance she could be 
found, an indifferent object; what is there left, to 
enable men to break their fetters, but the clashing 
interests of the corruption itself? And it is knowing 
as little of the* religious, as of the moral course of 
God s providence, to upbraid those, who have profited 
of this blessing, with the baseness of the instruments 
that procured it *. 

However, the love of truth came afterwards in aid 
of those, whom St. Paul himself did not think fit to 
discourage, such as preach Christ even of envy and 
strife, to carry on the work of reformation. For 

* tl Si on veut reduire les causes des progres de la rcforme a 
" des principes simples, on verra, qu en Allemagne ce fut 
" I Ouvrage de 1 Interet, en Angleterre celui de 1 Amour ; et en 
France celui de la Nouveaute, ou peut-etre d une Chanson." 
Voiez, Memoirs pour servir u I Histoire de Brandbourg de main 
if. Maitre, p. 37. 

though 






xxviii INTRODUCTION 

though tine grossness of the corruptions did not straight 
way make them suspected; yet, being tyrannically im 
posed, they soon became hated; and that hatred 
brought on the enquiry ; which never ceased but with 
their detection. And then, those, whose honesty and 
courage emboldened them to make a secession from 
an Anti-Christian Church, found no way of standing 
in their new-recovered liberty, but by supplying their 
want of power with a superior share of knowledge. 

To this every thing contributed. They were led, 
even by the spirit of opposition, to the fountain of 
truth, the Scriptures ; from which they had been so 
long and violently excluded. And the Scriptures, as 
we observed, had, amongst their other advantages, this 
peculiar virtue, to direct and enlarge the mind; by 
providing it with such objects as were best suited for 
its contemplation ; and presenting them in such lights 
as most readily promoted its improvement by them. 
Such too was the gracious disposition of Heaven, that, 
at the very time these servants of truth were breaking 
open the recovered treasury of holy writ, the largest 
source of human learning was ready to pour in upon 
them. For a powerful nation of fierce enthusiasts, the 
enemies of the Christian name, had just driven Grecian 
literature from its natives eats, and forced it to take 
refuge in the North West of Europe. 

How admirable are the ways of Providence ! and 
how illustrious was this dispensation ! It directed the 
independent, the various, and the contrary revolu 
tions of these times, to rectify the mischiefs occasioned 
by the past : whereby that very learning, which, in the 
first ages, had been perverted to corrupt Christianity, 
was now employed to purify and restore it : that very 
philosophy, which had been adopted to invent and 
explain articles of faith, was now studied only to in 
struct 



TO J tl L I AN. xxix 

struct us in the history of the human mind, and to 
assist us in developing its faculties, and regulating its 
operations : and those very systems which had sup 
ported the whole body of school divinity, now afforded 
the principles proper to overturn it. 

But in the course of this reform, it was not enough 
that the bad logic, on which the school-determina 
tions rested, should be reduced to its just value. The 
service of truth required the invention of a better. A 
better was invented : and the superiority that followed 
from its use was immediately felt : So that our adver 
saries were soon reduced to avail themselves of the 
same advantages. Thus the true science of humanity 
opened and enlarged itself: It spread and penetrated 
through every quarter ; till it arrived at that distin 
guished height in which we place the true glory of 
these later ages. 

The advantage of the modern over ancient times, 
in the successful pursuit of moral science, is now 
generally acknowledged. And the impartial reader, 
who hath attended to these brief reflections, will, we 
presume, find no other cause, to which it can be so 
reasonably ascribed, as to the genius and the con 
stitution of the Christian religion; whose doctrines 
reveal the great prinicples of moral truth ; and whose 
discipline establishes a ministry consecrated to its sup 
port and service. 

It is true, indeed, the concurrence of several cross 
accidents had for many ages deprived the world of 
these advantages: They had defeated the natural 
virtue and efficacy of the doctrines ; and rendered the 
discipline vain and useless. For these two parts of the 
Christian system cannot act but in conjunction : se 
parate them, and its doctrines will abound in enthu" 
) and its discipline, in superstitions. But now, 

since 



xxx INTRODUCTION 

since the cold and heavy incumbrance of human in 
ventions hath been removed out of the Lord s vi/ie- 
yard< the ministers of religion have been enabled to 
produce that fruit which, from the beginning, they 
were enabled to cultivate and mature. So that greater 
improvements were made, during the last two hun 
dred years, in the science of humanity, than in all the 
preceding ages put together. 

Nor let any one, from what he may have seen not 
very conformable to these ideas, suspect the truth of 
this representation. It was never pretended that these 
advantages prevailed equally or constantly in all 
places, to which the influence of their causes had 
reached. As time would improve them in some, so 
it would impair them in others. All nature is in a 
constant flux, and every modification of it, however 
circumstanced, when considered locally, must have 
its period ; and such as are most valuable, have, very 
often, the quickest. Of the advantages spoken of 
above, THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND had made the best 
use : and the system of man, that is, of ethics and 
theology, had received there almost as many improve 
ments, as the system of nature, amongst the same 
people, hath done since. It would have received 
more but for the evil influence which the corrupt and 
mistaken politics of those times have had upon it. 
For politics have ever had great effects on science. 
And this is natural. What is strange in the story is, 
that these studies gradually decay under an improved 
Constitution. Insomuch that there is now neither 
force enough in the public genius to emulate their 
forefathers ; nor sense enough to understand the use 
of their discoveries. It would be an invidious task 
to enquire into the causes of this degeneracy. It 
is sufficient, for our humiliation, that we feel the ef 
fects. 



TO JULIAN. xxxi 

fects. Not that we must suppose, there was nothing 
to dishonour the happier times which went before : 
there were too many : but then the mischiefs were 
well repaired by the abundance of the surrounding 
blessmgs. This church, like a fair and vigorous tree, 
once teemed with the richest and noblest burthen. 
And though, together with its best fruits, it pushed 
out some hurtful suckers, receding every way from 
the mother plant ; crooked and mishapen, if you will, 
and obscuring and eclipsing the beauty of its stem ; 
yet still there was something in their height and verdure 
which bespoke the generosity of the stock they rose 
from. She is now seen under all the marks of a total 
decay : her top scorched and blasted, her chief 
branches bare and barren, and nothing remaining of 
that comeliness which once invited the whole continent 
to her shade. The chief sign of life she now gives is 
the exsuding from her sickly trunk a number of de 
formed funguses ; which call themselves of her, because 
they stick upon her surface, and suck out the little 
remains of her sap and spirits. 

To conclude : my more immediate concern in these 
observations was to justify the FATHERS from the 
injurious contempt under which they now lye. But, 
in the course of this apology, I have endeavoured to 
serve a greater purpose ; which was, to vindicate our 
holy Religion from its supposed impotency and inca 
pacity to direct and enlarge the reasoning faculties, in 
. the discovery and advancement of moral truth. 

So far then as to the genius and literary talents of 
the Fathers : their moral character is a distinct ques 
tion ; and would well bear, and does deserve a full 
examination. But I have already gone beyond my 
limits. However, this I may venture to say, that the 
men most prejudiced against them, though they talk, 

will 



xxxii INTRODUCTION, &c. 

will never be able to prove, tliat the Fathers had an 
immoral intention to deceive. If there be any learn 
ed man who thinks otherwise, I would advise him, 
before he attempts to prosecute this charge against 
them, to weigh well the force of the following remark, 
though made on somewhat a different occasion. 
" Whenever" (says the fine author of the Spirit of 
Laws) " one observes, in any age or government, 
" the several bodies in a community intent on aug- 
" menting their own authority, and vigilant to procure 
<c certain advantages to themselves exclusive of each 
<c other s pretensions, we should run a very great 
" chance of being deceived if we regarded these at- 
" tempts as a certain mark of their corruptions. By 
" an unhappiness inseparable from the condition of 
" humanity, moderation is a rare virtue in men of 
" superior talents. And as it is always more easy to 
" push on force in the direction in which it moves, 
" than to stop or divert its moment ; perhaps, in the 
" class of superior geniuses, you will sooner find men 
" extremely virtuous, than extremely prudent*." 

* Lorsque dans un siccle, ou dans un gouvernement, on voit 
les divers corps de 1 etat chercher a augmenter leur autontc, & 
i prendre les uns sur les autres de certains avantages, on se 
tromperoit souvent, si Ton regardoit leurs entreprises, commc 
une marque certaine de leur corruption Par un malheur attache 
a la condition humaine, les Grands-hommes moderes sont rares ; 
& comme ilest toujoursplus aise de suivre sa force que del arreter, 
puet-etre dans la classe des gens superieurs, est-il plus facile, de 
trouverdesgens extreraement vertueux, que les hommes extreme- 
rnent wges. L Eiprit des Loix, V. II, p. 334. 8vo edit. 



ADIS- 



A 

DISCOURSE 

ON THE ATTEMPT OF THE EMPEROR 

JULIAN 

TO REBUILD THE 

TEMPLE OF JERUSALEM. 



BOOK I. 

IN reflecting on the state of this new controversy, 
concerning MIRACLES, two things seemed to be 
wanting, though very useful to oppose to the insinua 
tions of licentious readers, who are commonly more 
forward to come to a conclusion than the disputants 
themselves ; the one was, to shew that all the miracles 
recorded in church-history are not forgeries or delu 
sions : The other, that the evidence of most of them 
doth not stand on the same foot of credit with the 
miracles recorded in Gospel- history. For most theo 
logical debates amongst churchmen, notwithstanding 
the service they do to truth, occasion this sensible 
mischief to the people, that the enemies of religion 
spread abroad their o-^n consequences from them, as 
the consequences of the doctrines advanced, how con 
trary soever to the express reasonings and declarations 
of the parties concerned. 

To obviate therefore the ABUSES arising from the 

management of the present question, I have taken 

VOL. VIII. D upon 



34 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

upon me to defend A MIRACLE OF THE FOURTH 
CENTURY ; and to enquire into the nature of that 
evidence , which will demand the assent of every rea 
sonable man to a miraculous fact. 

The first part of this plan is prosecuted in the fol 
lowing sheets: The second will afford a subject for 
another discourse. 

My chief purpose here is to prove the miraculous 
interposition of Providence, in defeating the attempt 
of JULIAN to rebuild the TEMPLE OF JERUSALEM. 

As my design in writing is in behalf of our common 
Christianity, and not to support or to discredit the 
particular doctrines of this or that church or age ; I 
have taken for my subject a miracle worked by the 
immediate hand of God, and not through the agency 
of his servants. 

So that, whether the power of miracles as exercised 
by the apostles, and their first followers, ceased with 
them, or was conveyed to their successors of the 
next age, is a question that doth not at all affect the 
present subject : for, God s shortening the hands of 
his servants doth not imply that he shortened his own. 



CHAP. I. 

WHEN God, in his mercy, had decreed to restore 
mankind to the state of immortality forfeited by 
Adam, he saw fit, in order to preserve the memory of 
himself amidst a world running headlong into idolatry, 
to select a single family, which, advanced into a 
nation, might, in the interim, become the repository 
of his holy name. To this purpose he took the seed 
of Abraham, in reward of the virtues of their fore 
fathers, 



Chap. L] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 35 

fathers, and, in due time, brought them, by leaders 
chosen from amongst themselves, to the land he had 
appointed for them. 

In compliance with the religious notions of those 
times, he condescended, when he communicated him 
self as the Maker and Governor of the Universe, to 
adopt them for his peculiar people, under the idea of 
their tutelar Deity, or the God of Abraham, Isaac, 
and Jacob. And, the better to secure the great end 
of their separation, assumed likewise the title and office 
of their King^ or Civil Governor. 

Hence their Religion came under the idea of a 
Law ; and was so considered and denominated. And 
their Law was, in the strictest sense, Religion, as 
having all the sanctions of a divine command. 

In a word, those two great rules of human conduct, 
which are, elsewhere, kept so distinct by their different 
originals, and different administrations, were, here, by 
the sameness in both, specifically lost in a perfect in 
corporation. And the whole oeconomy (as every thing 
in this dispensation was relative to the Jews as a 
body) went under the common name of LAW. 

From this account of the Jewish constitution, it 
follows, That Religion, which, elsewhere, hath only 
particulars for its subjects, had, Here, the nation or 
community: And what, elsewhere, as far as concerns 
the divine origin of religion, is only a private matter, 
was, Here, a public: For the Deity being both their 
tutelary God and civil Governor, the proper object of 
his care, in each capacity, was the collective body : 
and, whether we consider the observance due to him 

under the idea of Law or Religion, it was still the 

i/-j 

body which was the proper subject of it. Not but 
that religion had there a. private part, or particulars 
for its subject : But then it was that religion we call 

D 2 natural] 



36 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Rook L 

natural ; founded in what reason discovers of the re 
lation between the Creator and the creature ; an aid, 
which revelation is so far from rejecting, that we find 
it constitutes the ground of every extraordinary dispen 
sation vouchsafed by God to mankind. For, he that 
cometh to God [i.e. by revelation] must believe that 
he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently 
seek him*, 

From this account of the Hebrew Government, one 
natural consequence ariseth, That the principal rites 
of their religion and law were to be performed and 
celebrated in some determined place. This, the ob 
ject and subject of their cere?nomal seemed equally to 
require. For, the ideas of tutelary God and King 
implied a local residence : and a national act, created 
by the relations arising from these things, required a 
fixed and certain place for its celebration : and both 
together seemed to mark out the capital of the country 
for that purpose. 

This consequent practice, which the nature and 
reason of things so evidently point out, the institutes 
of the Hebrew constitution expressly order and en 
join. During the early and unsettled times of the 
Jewish state, the sacrifices, prescribed by their ritual, 
were directed to be offered up before the door of an 
ambulatory tabernacle : but when they had gained the 
establishment decreed for them, and a magnificent 
temple was erected for religious worship, then all their 
sacrifices were to be offered at Jerusalem only.. 

Now, sacrifices constituting the substance of their 
national worship, their religion could not be said to 
subsist longer tharj the continuance of that celebration. 
But sacrifices could be performed only in one appointed 
temple : so that when this was finally destroyed, ac- 

Heb. xi. 6. 

cording 



Chap. L] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 37 

cording to the predictions of the prophets, the institu* 
tion itself became abolished. 

Nor was any thing more consonant to the nature 
of this religion, than the assigning such a celebration 
of its rites. The temple vtould exist while they re 
mained a people, and continued sovereign : and when 
they ceased to be such, they would indeed lose their 
temple, but then they had no further use for it ; be 
cause the rites there celebrated were relative to them, 
only as a civil policied nation. 

These consequences are all so necessarily connected, 
and were so clearly understood, that when Jesus in 
forms the woman of Samaria of the approaching abo 
lition of the law of Moses, he expresses himself by 
this circumstance, that men should no longer worship 
at the Temple of Jerusalem*. 

As on the other hand, when the false witnesses 
against Stephen deposed that they heard him say, that 
Jesus of Nazareth would destroy the fyoly place, the 
Temple, they drew their own inference from it, that 
he would change the law and customs which Moses 
had delivered them f. 

If, from the nature of this religion, we go on to 
consider its end> we shall find, in it, all the marks of 
a religion, preparatory and introductory to another 
more complete and perfect; of which it contains the- 
rudiments, and presents the shadow. Such as the 
confining its fundamental doctrine, the worship of the 
true God, within the limits of one small country. Such 
again, as its multifarious and enigmatic ritual; of 

* John iv. ai. 

t Acts vi. 13, 14. And in this the falshood of their testimony 
seemed to consist. For Stephen could never have spoken so 
crudely of the destruction of the Law, when his Master had said, 
he was not come to destroy the Law, but to fulfil it. Matt. v. 17. 

D 3 which 



38 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

which no reasonable account can be had, but that 
part was instituted to oppose the reigning superstitions, 
in order to preserve the separation ; and part to pre 
figure, by types or symbols, the essential circumstances 
of some future dispensation. And part again, by the 
admirable contrivance of divine Wisdom, both opposed 
the reigning superstitions, and prefigured the future 
dispensation. 

But Christianity, which established its pretensions 
by the power of miracles and the purity of doctrine, 
doth in fact support these conclusions, by representing 
Judaism as only the rudiments and shadow of its own 
more complete oeconomy. 

This being premised, we say, that the more perfect 
dispensation could not take place till the less perfect, 
which prefigured it, and prepared its way, was set 
aside and abolished. 

But now, if the mere voluntary adherence to a re 
ligion, or men s calling themselves of it, were enough 
to prevent its abolition, the pcrverseness and obstinacy 
of our nature are such, that they might, and, in fact, 
would lie in the way, and obstruct the purposes of 
Providence. 

Therefore has the great Disposer of all things so 
divinely constituted this preparatory religion, as to put 
it out of the power of human perversity even to delay 
or retard its destined abolition -, by so constituting the 
natures, and disposing the order of his dispensations, 
that those essential rites, which made the Jewish reli 
gion to be what it was, should of necessity require a 
fixed local celebration, which it was not possible to 
perform longer than while the Jewish people continued 
a nation, and in possession of the sovereignty of Pa 
lestine. St. Chrysostom has an elegant observation 
to this purpose : " From the necessity (^says he) of a 

" local 



Chap. I.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 39 

" local worship, God covertly withdrew the Jews 
" from the rage of ritual observances. For as a Phy- 
" sician, by breaking the cup, prevents his patient 
" from indulging his appetite in a hurtful draught ; so 
" God withheld them from their sacrifices, by de- 
c stroying the city itself, and making the place inac- 
" cessible to all of them *." 

It may not be improper, in this place, to take no 
tice of an objection, though indeed it be already ob 
viated. It is, " that the sacrificing at Jerusalem being 
a mere ceremony, we can hardly conceive how the 
want of it should annihilate the whole system of a reli 
gious institution. The objection goes upon ideas foreign 
to the subject. The essence of the Jewish religion was 
ceremonial. Hence it is that there is no word in the 
Hebrew language that signifies what we mean by cere 
monies : nor, if what we have delivered, concerning the 
nature and genius of the Jewish religion, be true, could 
there be any such. The same is observable in the 
Greek language. And the reason is the same. It 
hath been shewn elsewhere f, that this nature was 
common both to the Jewish and Greek religions ; rati 
onal indeed, in the former; but altogether absurd in 
the other. Yet it will be said, the Romans had a 
word to express ceremonies. It is true, they had. 
And the reason of their having it will shew why the 
Jews and Greeks had it not. Their lawgiver, Numa, 
instituted a kind of system of natural religion for their 
national use ; which, time and craft soon corrupted 
with gross idolatries. So that as superstitions accu- 

* At* TJ? xecra TC TOTTO* vayxK IctvQctvotluq atnrw 
vriplro w^ay^xa (Actvictq wawipavo lalqot; t rj<r TTJ? axa i 
TO* apco/ro*, TO y^iv^ ottya,nja.$> ara >tj to? TUV Svaiuv a-Trn 
xoXtv auTtjy xadf&M i *j wot^aa; ai/Trji aCalo* isnffH. Homil. VI. 
advers. Jud. 

t Divine Legation. 

r> 4 mulated, 



40 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

mulated, they would be under a necessity of inventing 
a word to signify that specific mode of worship, through 
which such superstitions were conveyed. 

Thus Judaism being of necessity to cease on the 
establishment of Christianity, we see for what reason 
it was predicted, that when Shiloh came, the sceptre 
should depart from Judah. Admirable are the ways 
of Providence ! and so will they be always found, 
whenever we happen upon the clue, that leads us to 
the right opening. 

If then, from the nature of things, it doth appear, 
that the TEMPLE WORSHIP must fall with the rise of 
that which is in spirit and in truth ; and that the 
abolition of the Mosaic law is essential to the esta 
blishment of the Gospel; we cannot but conclude, 
that a matter of this importance (so illustrious a proof 
of the relation and dependance between these two re 
ligions !) must be predicted, both by the prophets of 
the old, and the Founder of the new dispensation. 

They both, indeed, have done it. And fully to 
comprehend the force and just value of their expressions 
was the end for which we have here deduced things 
from their original, and given this general view of the 
course and order of God s moral oeconomy ; on which, 
the sense of the prophecies relating to it must needs 
be determined : and without which, the several pre 
dictions of the destruction of the temple, expressed in 
general terms, would be subject to cavil, as iri them 
selves implying only a total, and not ajitial subver 
sion. Whereas now, from the nature of the dispensa 
tions, we understand that a destruction, thus foretold, 
necessarily implied &Jinal one. 

The prophet Isaiah, predicting, as usual, the 
triumphs of the Gospel under the terms of a temporal 
deliverance of the Jews from their hostile neighbours, 

delivers 



Chap. I.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 41 

delivers himself in the following words : " And in this 
" mountain [viz. of Zion] shall the Lord of Hosts 
" make unto all people a feast of fat things, a feast 
c< of wines on the lees, of fat things full of marrow, of 
" wines on the lees well refined. And he will des- 
" troy in this mountain the face of the covering cast 
" over all people, and the veil that is spread over all 
" nations. He will swallow up death in victory *." 
And to shew, that some great event in a remote and 
future age was the principal object of his prophecy, 
he introduces it with this song of triumph : " O Lord, 
" thou art my God, I will exalt thee, I will praise 
" thy name; for thou hast done wonderful things; 
" thy counsels of old are faith fulness and truth f :" i. e. 
What thou hast originally decreed, thou wilt, in the 
latter ages, bring to pass. Therefore having, in the 
sixth verse, enigmatically described that salvation 
which should arise from mount Zion ; in the seventh, 
he more openly intimates the abolition of the Temple- 
worship, by the figure of destroying that veil, which, 
at the crucifixion of the Lord of life, the evangelist 
informs us, was rent in twain from the top to the 
bottom ; called by the prophet, from the confined na 
ture of the Jewish religion, the veil that hid truth from 
the nations. In this sense St. Paul appears to have un 
derstood the prophecy; for he applies the concluding 
words to the last triumph of Christ over death J. 

Conformably to these ideas, Jesus says to the 
woman of Samaria, " Believe me, the hour cometh, 
" when ye shall neither in this mountain, nor yet at 

<c Jerusalem, worship the Father But the hour 

" cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall 
" worship the Father in spirit and in truth ^" And 

* Chap. xxv. ver. 6, 7, 8. t Is.ii. xxv. i. 

} i Cor. xv. 54. John iv. 21, -22, 23. 

to 



42 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

to secure the honour of this great event, Providence 
had decreed that the city and temple of Jerusalem 
should be destroyed ; of which the angel informs 
Daniel in the following words : " And alter, threescore 
" and two weeks shall Messiah he cut off, but not 
" for himself: and the people of the prince that 
" shall come shall destroy the city and the sanctuary ; 
" and the end thereof shall be with a flood , and unto 
" the end of the war desolations are determined. 
" And he shall confirm the covenant with many for 
" one week : and in the midst of the week he shall 
" cause the sacrifice and oblation to cease, and for 
" the overspreading of abominations he shall make it 
" desolate even until the consummation, and that 
" determined, shall be poured upon the desolate*." 
In which we see a plain and circumstantial descrip 
tion of the overthrow of the city and temple by the 
Romans under Titus. Jesus foretels the then ap 
proaching event in the following manner : " And when 
" Jesus was come near, he beheld the city 9 and 
ce wept over it, saying The days shall come upon 
" thee, that thine enemies shall cast a trench about 
" thee, and compass thee round, and keep..thee in on 
" every side, and shall lay thee even with the ground, 
u and thy children within thee ; and they shall not 
" leave in thee one stone upon another |." Two 
other evangelists J inform us, that " Jesus went 
" out, and departed from the temple; and his dis- 
" ciples came to him for to shew him the buildings 
" of the temple. And Jesus said unto them, See ye 
" not all these things? Verily, I say unto you, there 
" shall not be left here one stone upon another, 
" that shall not be thrown doun." And when the 

* Dan. ix. 26,27. -f Luke xix. 41. 43, 44. 

I Matt. xxiv. i, 2. 15. Mark xiii. i, 2. 14. 

disciples 



Chap. L] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 43 

disciples privately asked him when these things 
should be, he answered, When ye shall see the abo 
mination of desolation spoken of by Daniel the pro 
phet, standing in the holy place; referring to the 
prophecy quoted above. Hitherto we see a total 
destruction indefinitely predicted. The following 
passage of St. Luke s Gospel marks the fixed dura 
tion of it. " And Jerusalem (says Jesus) shall be 
" trodden down of the Gentiles, until the times of 
" the Gentiles be fulfilled*." But, of the period 
here meant, commentators differ : Some, as Hammond, 
suppose it reaches no lower than till the empire be 
came Christian: others, as Dr. S. Clarke, that it ex 
tends to the future conversion of the Jews. 

Amidst this uncertainty, arising from the general 
expressions of these prophecies considered alone, the 
only way of coming to the truth, i.e. to know whe 
ther they mean a jinal destruction, or, if not, what 
sort of restoration ; and when it is to succeed ; the 
only way, I say, is to recur to what hath been dis 
coursed above, concerning the nature, of the TWO 
DISPENSATIONS : In which we have shewn, that 
Christianity and the Temple-worship cannot subsist 
together: and so must conclude, that these prophe 
cies foretel not only the total, but the Jinal destruc 
tion of the Jewish temple. 

And now, What are we to conclude from all this, 
to the case in hand ? It is evident, a repugnancy 
in the co-existence of Judaism and Christianity, would 
require God s interposition to prevent the restora 
tion of the temple : it is as evident, that a prophecy 
of \\sfinal destruction would do the same. Either of 
these facts therefore being sufficient to establish our 
point, so much discourse had not been employed on 

* Luke xxi. 24. 

both, 



44 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

both, had they stood independent of one another. 
But the prophecies being so delivered, as to be of 
themselves ambiguous, there was a necessity of calling 
in the nature of God s dispensations, to explain their 
precise meaning; which prophecies would, then, re 
ciprocally support what we infer from the different 
genius of the two religions. 

If it be asked (as there is now no secret in the 
counsels of God but what audacious man will ask 
the reason of) 4< Why the Jinal destruction of the 
temple was so doubtfully delivered, that there was 
need of our having recourse to the nature and genius 
of the two dispensations, to comprehend the full 
meaning of the prophecy?" I answer, in general, 
that it seems very irreverent, when God hath clearly 
made known his will to us, to cavil with his wisdom, 
for not doing it in that way which to us may seem 
the most direct and simple. But, in this case it 
happens, that we see great ends obtained, by the very 
way he hath been pleased to use. For by obliging us 
to have recourse to the nature of his dispensations, 
in order to ascertain the full meaning of his prophecies, 
he hath put us under the necessity of having always 
in view a circumstance of great moment, which we 
might otherwise be apt to forget; a circumstance 
which impresseth on us the strongest ideas of the di 
vine wisdom. Had the abolition of Judaism, on the 
establishment of Christianity been only expedient, 
and not necessary, as even in that case we may 
be assured it had been in God s counsel never to 
suffer the temple to be rebuilt, so \ve may well be 
lieve that the revelation of this counsel by prophecy 
had been in the express terms of &Jinal destruction ; 
because, from the expediency only of an aboluion, 
general terms could never lead us to conclude the 

predicted 



Chap. L] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 45 

predicted destruction to be Jinal. But now as the 
abolition was necessary, that alone would suffice to 
fix the precise meaning of general terms. And as 
the use of general terms would oblige us to have 
recourse to those circumstances on which the necessity 
was founded, and the constant view of those circum 
stances is highly useful for religious purposes, there 
fore were general terms very wisely employed. 

It may perhaps be further objected, That the 
reasons here given for the necessity of abolishing Ju 
daism, on tiie coming of Christianity, reach no farther 
than to a virtual abolition : whereas it is an actual 
abolition only that can serve our purpose." 

To this I reply, That the abolition of a preparatory 
religion, on the appearance of that which was to 
follow, is not a matter of every day s experience. 
There is but this one instance in the world, and never 
will be another. Let us divest ourselves, therefore, 
of all those common notions we form from analogies 
and we shall see that reason leads us to expect an 
actual abolition. Indeed, according to our ideas of 
the general nature of religion, an actual abolition 
could not be certainly had, without a force upon free 
will ; hence, in such cases, a virtual abolition is all 
we are to expect ; and, from a consideration of the 
general nature of religion, we are misled into this 
objection. But the religion in question was of a pe 
culiar kind. The essential part of it was a local 
worship. This might be actually abolished without 
any force upon the will. When therefore an abolition 
was foretold, and the necessity of it seen, must we 
not conclude such a one to be meant ? On the whole, 
a virtual abolition of circumcision, purification, dis 
tinction of meats, &c which regarded particulars di 
rectly, and the body, only obliquely, was all that could 

be 



46 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

be expected : but the nature of things seems to require 
an actual abolition of what concerned only the body 
as such; which was the temple-worship. To these 
many other reasons might be added, such as the ap 
parent necessity of shewing, that this nation was no 
longer God s peculiar \ which could hardly be done 
while they were in possession of a worship, that was 
the characteristic mark of God s peculiarity : and such 
as the transferring the kingship of the Jews from God 
to Christ ; which would not appear to be done while 
the tern pie- worship, the specific act of allegiance, was 
in being. There are various considerations besides 
of equal weight. But we may seem perhaps to have 
already exceeded the proportion that the parts of this 

discourse should bear to one another And yet I am 

tempted to make one observation more, which, I hope 
the importance of the subject will excuse. 

The prophecy of Jesus, concerning the approaching 
destruction of Jerusalem by Titus, is conceived in such 
high and swelling terms, that not only the modern in 
terpreters, but the ancient likewise, have supposed that 
our Lord interweaves into it a DIRECT prediction of 
his second coming to judgement*. Hence arose a 
current opinion of those times, that the consummation 
of all things was at hand; which hath afforded a 
handle to an infidel objection in these, insinuating that 
Jesus, in order to keep his followers" attached to his 
service, and patient under sufferings, flattered them 
with the near approach of those rewards which com- 
pleated all their views and expectations. To which, 
the defenders of religion have opposed this answer, 
That the distinction of short and long, in the duration 
of time, is lost -in eternity ; and, with the Almighty, 
a thousand years are but as yesterday, &c. 

* See Divine Legation. 

But 



Chap. I.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. - 47 

But the principle both go upon is false; and if what 
hath been said be duly weighed, it will appear, that the 
parts of this prophecy which mark a speedy advent, 
do not respect God s second coming to judgement, but 
\i\sjirst ; in the abolition of the Jewish policy, and the 
ESTABLISHMENT of the Christian; that kingdom of 
Christ, which commenced on the total ceasing of the 
theocracy. For as God s reign over the Jews entirely 
ended with the abolition of the temple- service, so the 
reign of Christ, in spirit and in truth, had then its 
first beginning. 

This was the true ESTABLISHMENT of Christianity, 
not that effected by the donations or conversions of 
Constantine. Till the Jewish Law was abolished, 
over which the Father presided as King, the reign 
oft he Son could not take place ; because the sove 
reignty of Christ over mankind, was that very sove 
reignty of God over the Jews, transferred, and more 
largely extended. 

This therefore being one of the most important a?ras 
in the cKconomy of grace ; and the most awful revolu 
tion in all God s religious dispensations; we see the 
elegance and propriety of the terms in question, to 
denote so great an event, together with the destruction 
of Jerusalem, by which it was effected : for in the old 
prophetic language * the change and fall of principa 
lities and powers, whether spiritual or civil, are sig 
nified by the shaking heaven and earth ; the darkening 
the sun and moon, and the failing of the stars ; as the 
rise and establishment of ntw ones are by processions 
in the clouds of heaven, by the sound of trumpets, and 
the assembling together of hosts and congregations ]\ 

Thus much, therefore, being premised, we enter 

* See The Divine Legation, Books III. & IV. 
f Matt. chap. xxiv. 

directly 



48 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

directly on our subject ; it being now seen, that the 
truth of Christianity must stand or fall with the ruin or 
the restoration of the temple at Jerusalem ; for if that 
temple should be rebuilt for the purpose of Jewish 
worship, Christianity could not support its pretensions; 
nor the Prophets, nor Jesus, the truth of their pre 
dictions. 



CHAP. II. 

THERE was a time when the powers of this world 
were all opposed to the progress of the gospel ; and 
as they continued thus opposed for some ages, it would 
have been a miracle, as rare as most of those by which 
it was supported, if, amongst the various attempts to 
suppress and discredit it, there had not been a project 
formed to give the lie to those prophecies which de 
nounced lasting ruin and desolation to the Jewish 
Temple. 

The first attempt upon Christianity was such as 
was most natural to this power, the suppressing it by 
brutal force : and the subjection of the whole civilized 
world to the despotic will of one blind persecutor, gave 
that force its utmost moment. The violence of its 
effort was TEN times repeated; and as often, by the 
blood of the martyrs, victoriously repelled. 

Though this may be justly reckoned amongst the 
marks of its divinity, yet it must be owned, that brutal 
force was not the most artful or dangerous way of pro 
curing the ruin even of what they thought it, a mere 
human contrivance. The utmost which force can do 
(and that it often fails in) is to stop the progress of a 
profession : while the same advantages of power, em 
ployed towards a rational conviction of its falsehood, 

proceed 



Chap. II.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 49 

proceed more fatally to its subversion. But this method 
of attack required a comprehensive knowledge of human 
nature, and of die doctrines to be suppressed. 

Few of the persecuting emperors had either. M. 
Antoninus had the one ; Julian only, who closed the 
scene, had both. Till his time, the sole engine was 
simple force. Antonine himself used no other. And 
yet his knowledge of men might have shewn him the 
folly of so unmanly a proceeding. But then he knew 
no more of Christianity than the most ignorant of his 
courtiers. Philosophy, which should have led him to 
inquire into a religion that all were running eagerly to 
embrace, was the very thins; that restrained his curiosity. 
For Stoical pride (of which sect he was) would confess 
no need of the knowledge of falsehood to perfect its 
followers in truth : It despised the oblique genius of 
the Academy, which" made all truth to depend on the 
knowledge and detection of falsehood. 

Julian was the first who got enough acquainted with 
the Gospel to apply such arms against it as must have 
ended in its ruin, had it been nothing more than what 
he affected to think it, a human invention. And here 
we shall be forced to confess, that Providence seems 
to have raised up this extraordinary man on set purpose 
to do the last honours to the Religion of Jesus ; to 
shew the world what human power, with all its advan 
tages united, was able to oppose to its establishment. 
For we find in this emperor all the great qualities that 
a projector could conceive, or an adversary would re 
quire, to secure success to so daring an opposition. 
He was eloquent and liberal ; artful, insinuating, and 
indefatigable; which, joined* to a severe temperance, 
an affected love of justice, and a courage superior to 
all trials, first gained him the affections, and, soon 
after, the peaceable possession of the whole empire. 

VOL. VIIL E Ht 



.50 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book T. 

He was bred up in the Christian religion from his 
infancy : and was obliged to profess it (or at least to 
disguise his passion * for Paganism) to the time he 
assumed the purple. His aversion to his uncle Con- 
stantine, and his cousin Constantius, for the cruelties 
exercised on his family, had prejudiced him against the 
Christian religion : and his attachment to some Pla 
tonic sophists, who had been employed in his education, 
gave him as violent a bias towards Paganism. He was 
ambitious; and Paganism, in some of its Theurgic 
rites, had flattered and encouraged his views of the 
diadem : He was vain, which made him aspire to the 
glory of re-establishing the ancient rites : he was ex 
tremely knowing, and fond of Grecian literature ; the 
very soul of which, in his opinion -);, was the old Theo 
logy : But above all, notwithstanding a considerable 
mixture of enthusiasm]:, his superstition was excessive, 
and what nothing but the blood of hecatombs could 
appease. 

With these dispositions he came to the empire ; and, 
consequently, with a determined purpose of subverting 
the Christian, and restoring the Pagan worship. His 
predecessors had left him the repeated experience of 
the inefficacy of downright force. The virtue of the 
first Christians then rendered this effort fruitless ; the 
numbers of the present would have now made it danger 
ous. He found it necessary therefore to change his 
ground : his knowledge of human nature furnished him 
with arms ; and his knowledge of the faith he had 

* A rudimentis pueritiae primis inclinatior erat erga uummum 
cultum, paullatimque adulescens desidcrio rei flagrabat. Am. Marc. 
1. xxii. c. 5. 

tVid. Ep. Jul. xlii. 

J 05-ros [ laTuaws] o inrcfcW; f*w$fe$ fyitiw A^ <r<v. Libanii 

Or. de ulc. Juliani nece, 

abandoned, 



Chap. II.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 51 

abandoned, enabled him to direct those arms to most 
advantage. 

He began with re-establishing Paganism by law*, 
and granting a full liberty of conscience to the Chris 
tians. On this principle, he restored those to their civil 
rights, of what party soever, who had been banished on 
account of religion ; and even affected to reconcile, to 
a mutual forbearance, the various sects of Christianity. 
Yet notwithstanding, his own historian assures us, he 
put on this mask of moderation and equity, for no 
other purpose than to inflame the dissensions in the 
church f. And his subsequent conduct fully justifies 
the historian s observation. 

He then lined and banished ;{; such of the more po 
pular clergy as had abused their power, either in excit 
ing the people to burn and destroy pagan temples, or 
to commit violence on an opposite sect. And it cannot , 
be denied but that their turbulent and insolent manners 
deserved all the severity of his justice. 

He proceeded to revoke and take away those immu 
nities, honours, and revenues , which his uncle and 
cousin had granted to the clergy. Neither was his 
pretence for this altogether unreasonable. He judged 
the grants to be exorbitant ; and besides, as they were 
attendant on a national religion, \v\\ent\\zestablishment 
came to be transferred from Christianity to Paganism, 

* Planis absolutisque decretis aperiri templa, arisque hostias 
admoveri ad deorum statuit cultum. Am. Mar. 1. xxii. c. 5. 

j- Utque dispositorum roboraret efteetum, dissulentes Christi- 
anorum antistites cum plebe discis^a in palatium intromissos mo- 
nebat, ut, civilibus discordiis consopitis, qui-que, nullo vetaute, 
religion! suae serviret intrepidus. Quod ugobat ideo obstinate, ut 
dissensiones, augente licentia, non timeret unanimantem postea 
plebern. Idem ib. 

I Nazian. Oral, i, cont. Jul. 



Val.] Soz.l.v. 0.5. 

2 he 



52 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Rook I. 

he concluded they must follow the religion of the state. 
But there was one immunity he took away, which no 
good policy, even under an establishment, should have 
granted them ; which was an exemption * from the 
civil tribunals. 

The Apostate went still further ; he disqualified the 
Christian laity for bearing office in the state : and even 
this, the security of the established religion may often 
require. 

But his most illiberal treatment of the Christians, 
was his forbidding the professors, who were of that 
religion, to teach humanity and the sciences, in the 
public schools. His more immediate design, in this, 
was to hinder the youth from taking impressions to the 
disadvantage of Paganism : His remoter view, to de 
prive Christianity of the support of human literature f. 

Not 



* To~<j $aXetflj?goK farito&Uh Soz. 1. V. C. 5. 

fThis edict is to be found amongst the works of Julian; and 
goes under the name of his xliid epistle. It forbids the Christian 
Professors to teach human literature. But because the ancients, 
such as Gregory Naz. Socrates, Sozomene, Theodoret, and Hufinus, 
expressly say, that he forbad Christians to learn it; some modern 
critics have embarrassed themselves in according this imaginary 
difference. Baronius and Vaieslus, who could not find it was for 
bidden, by this edict, to learn, concluded there was no such pio- 
bibition. Tillemont and Fleuri will not allow the fathers to be 
mistaken; and therefore imagine there was another edict, which 
extended the prohibition to the case in question. Tillemont sup 
poses this the more readily, because he thinks the xliid letter is 
indefinite and obscure. It appears to me very clear and precise; 
and it seems strange none of these critics saw, that, as this pro 
hibition is circumstanced in the edict, the not being allowed to 
learn was the necessary consequence of being forbid to teach. For 
the Professors are not only disallowed to explain Pagan authors 
to Pagan auditories, but to Christian likewise; as appears from 
the following words, But if they [The Christian professors] think 
these authors give a false and unworthy account oj the tremendous 
majesty of the immortals, let them go and explain Matthew and Luke 

in 



Chap. II.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 53 

Not content with this, he endeavoured even to destroy 
what was already written in defence of Christianity. 
With this view he wrote to Ecdicius the governor of 
Egypt, and to Porphyry the treasurer-general, to collect 
up, and send to him the library * of George bishop of 
Alexandria, who for his cruelty and tyranny had been 
torn in pieces by the people. Nay, 

in the churches oj the Galileans, tl <il EK T? rtfttvlamt v 



Aaxav. But why was this said, if they were at liberty 
to teach the Christian youth the sciences ? If they were not, Where 
could they go for instruction but to the schools of the Pagan 
Professors? Hither, indeed, they are invited by the edict itself. 
Those of the [Christian] youth (says Julian) 10/10 are desirous of 
frequenting [the schools of the Pagan professors] are by no means 
to be excluded. *O /3aAo/*vo? ruv v tuv (poilciv, * a7roxexAra. This 
was kind : but would by no means be accepted. Here the bait 
was half off the hook ; and discovered, that to draw them thither 
was one end of the edict : which he imagined would necessarily 
reduce things to this state, either to dispose the Galileans, during 
their youth, in favour of Paganism ; or to disable them, in their 
adult age, to defend Christianity. So that it appears, from hence, 
bis forbidding Christian professors to explain Pagan writers to any 
audience whatsoever, fully amounted to a prohibition of learning 
them. The Fathers, we see, did not scruple directly to affirm it. 
And that they believed it, appears from their finding no other way 
of avoiding the dilemma of corruption, or ignorance, than by com 
posing Epic poems, tragedies, and other classic compositions upon 
-a Christian plan, and on subjects taken from sacred story. This 
circumstance (had Baronius and Valesius attended to it) was alone 
sufficient to shew them, that the Fathers have told us no more 
than what they saw and felt, when they said, that Julian forbad 
them to learn human literature, as well as to teach it. Let me 
add, that nothing but this interpretation of his edict can account 
for the severe censure which his own historian, Ammianus Mar- 
cellinus, passes upon it, in the following words; " illud autem erat 
" inclemens, obruendum perenni silentio, quod arcebat docere ma- 
" gistros rhetoricos et grammaticos, ritus Christian! cultores." 
Lib. xxii. c. 10. 

* Ep. ix. and XXXvi. -orotoa plv ya,% *,v <piXo<ro< 
a ft pVkgma, -nroAAa Si jv t T?? run }vro-uv 
en rxpa/KT0t m*fa t Ep. ix, 
E3 



54 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

Nay, to such a length did his aversion to the name 
of CHRIST carry him, as to decree, by a public edict, 
that his followers should be no longer called Christians. 
but Galileans* Not but there might be a mixture of 
policy in it too, as knowing the efficacy of a nick-name 
to render a profession ridiculous. However, it is more 
than probable, superstition had its share in this un~ 
princely edict. The fanatic Platonists, to whom Julian 
had entirely given himself up, were much besotted 
with the mysterious power of names. These having 
been struck with the wonders performed by the name 
of Christ, and finding so many difficulties oppose 
themselves to their master s exterminating scheme, 
might well fancy there was a certain charm in the word 
Christian, which rendered the religion, so denominated, 
invincible. And this seems to be the ground Gregory 
Naz. went upon (if he had any) for saying, that the 
reason of this extraordinary law might be, that Julian 
trembled at the name of Christ, just as the Demons 
did, who suffered torments as often as they heard it 
pronounced j\ 

A man so transported by a train of the most un- 
govcrned passions, we may well suppose, would stop 
at no means, how low and vile soever, to carry on his 
project. His letters afford us an instance of one so 
dishonourable, that no testimony but his own could 
make it credible. Titus, bishop of Bostra, and his 
clergy, in an address presented to Julian, acquaint him 



"* 
Greg. Nuz. Orat. ii. cent. Jul. 

f -4 QoGzfAsyoq ye TW &ut*fAW TK Grgoar, yQgioi.<;, uyrfi^ ct ^at ipon., 



Orat. iii. 

Ka* Q 
vV9 r>j5 
Orat, i. 



\vjth 



Chap. II.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE: 55 

\vith their care in keeping the flock committed to them 
(then equal in number to the Pagans) in due obedience 
to the laws. The return Julian makes for this act of 
duty, is to acquaint the people of Bostra, that their 
bishop was become their delator; that he had repre 
sented them as prone to sedition, and even capable of 
the last excesses, but that he and his clergy kept them 
in order. For this crime therefore, which he calls the 
taking to himself the merit of the people s good beha 
viour, he advises them to expel the bishop from their 
city *. 

After this, no instance of baseness or injustice will 
be thought strange. On pretence that the Arian 
church of Edessa was too rich, and had not used the 
Valentinians with temper, he seized on every thing 
belonging to it, and divided the plunder amongst his 
soldiers. And, to add the bitterness of contumely to 
his injustice, he told them he did it to ease them of 
their burthens, that they might proceed more lightly, 
and with less impediment in their journey to Heaven f. 

But Socrates, the historian, tells us, that he im 
posed a tax or tribute, proportioned to every man s 
circumstances, on all who would not sacrifice J. This 
was persecution in form : and yet he did not stop here, 
but proceeded to still greater extremities. 

Though he did not persecute to death by laws, that 
being directly contrary to his edicts of toleration, which 

* Ep. Hi. B0rp*~?. It is remarkable, that the author of the 
Characteristics, in his third volume of Misc. Ref. hatli grven us a 
translation of this letter, for a pattern, as he tells us, of the 
humour and genius, of the principle and sentiments, of this virtuous, 
gallant, generous, and mild Emperor, p. 87, & seq. 4th ed. It is 
true, his translation drops the affair of Titus, their bishop. So 
that nothing hinders his reader from concluding but that the 
Emperor might indeed be as gallant and generous as he is pleased 
to represent him. 

t Ep. xliii. EiMiCoty. I Hist. Eccl. 1. iii. c. 13. 

E 4 he 



56 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

he had \vith so much ostentation and frequency re 
peated ; yet he connived at the //my of the people, and 
the brutality of the governors of provinces; who, 
during his short reign, brought many martyrs to the 
stake. For he put such into governments, whose in 
humanity and blind zeal for their country-superstitions 
were most distinguished. And when the suffering 
churches presented their complaints to him, he dis 
missed them with cruel scoffs; telling them*, their 
religion directed them to suffer without murmuring. 
So tiiat we have little reason to doubt what the anci 
ents t say of his declared intention (had he returned 
victorious from the Persian war) to subject the whole 
Christian world to the honester persecution of fire and 
sword J. 

These were the efforts of the Emperor Julian to 
overturn Christianity. However he took care to avoid 
the absurdity of our modern apostates, who are for 
abolishing the faith in which, like him, they have been 
bred, without substituting any other religion in its 
stead. Julian s attempts to destroy Christianity did 

* Greg. Naz. i. Orat. cont. Jul. Socrat. Eccl. Hist. 1. iii. c. 14. 

-\ Greg. Naz. ii. Orat. contr. Jul. Ruff. Eccl. Hist. 1. i. c. 36. 
How well all this agrees with what the author of the Character 
istics says of Julian, in the following words, I leave the admirers 
of that noble writer to determine : [Julian] was a great rcstrainer 
of persecution , and would allow of nothing further than a resumption 
of church la/ias an f J publick schools ; without any attempt on the 
goods or persons, even of those who branded the state religion, and 
made a merit of affronting the public worship. Vol. I. p. 25, 
4th edit. 

I \Vhat his creature and confident Libanius tells us, as part of 
his panegyric, makes this account of the Christian writers very 
credible. He says that Julian took up arms against Constantius, 
to restore the Pagan religion : OUTO? o visi% TU l^^y^ut Itfiv rtvx- 



De Ulcis. Juliam nee. 

not 



Chap. II.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 57 

not precede, but went hand in hand with his projects j 
to support and reform Paganism. 

He wrote and he preached in person, in defence of 
Gentile_siierstition : and has himself acquainted us 
with the ill success of his ministry *. Of his contro 
versial writings, his answerer Cyril hath given us a 
large specimen ; by which we see he was equally 
intent to recommend Paganism and to discredit 
Revelation. 

His reformation of Gentile superstition turned upon 
these points : J . To hide the absurdity of its traditions 
by moral and philosophic allegories f . These he found 
provided to his hands, principally, by philosophers of 
his own sect, the Platonists. Who, not without the 
assistance of the other sects of Theisls, had, ever 
since the appearance of Christianity, been refining 
the theology of Paganism, to oppose it to that of Reve 
lation ; under pretence, that their new-invented alle 
gories were the ancient spirit of the letter, which the 
first poetical divines had conveyed down, in this in- 
velope, to posterity. A noble design! of which some 
letters, lately published, concerning mythology, will 
give the reader a very tolerable idea. 

2. He then attempted to correct the morals of the 
Pagan priesthood, and regulate their manners on the 
practice of the first Christians. In his epistle to Arsa- 
cius, he not only requires of them a personal behaviour 
void of offence ; but that they reform their houshold 
on the same principle : He directs that they who attend 



tt; TW 

irrivuv |M,Ei> a,ira.v\s<; t e7reia0jo-av $i CIVTOK; 
irpo TUV ipuv hoywrt E^OKWV iX,tn> vyw$ Aa- 
Ipi-v]/<70t rr,v oil^u t awoOeVOat. Ep. XXVli. 
viu o-o^r>7. 

+ See his discourse composed in honour of the Mother of tho 
Gods, 

at 



58 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Bcok I. 

at the altar should abstain from the theatre, the tavern, 
and the exercise of all ignoble professions : that in their 
private character they be meek and humble; but that, 
in the acts and offices of religion, they assume a cha 
racter conformable to the majesty of the immortal 
Gods, whose ministers they are. But above all he 
recommends to them the virtues of charity and bene 
volence *. 

With regard to discipline and religious policy, Na- 
zianzene and Sozomene tell us, he had planned an 
establishment for readers in divinity; for the order 
and parts of the divine offices ; for a regular and formal 
service, with days and hours of worship ; that he had 
decreed to found hospitals for the poor, monasteries 
for the devout, and to prescribe and enjoin initiatory 
and expiatory rites, with a course of instruction for 
converts, and of penance for offenders; and in all 
things to imitate the church discipline of that time f. 



CHAP. III. 

BUT the indifference and corruptions of Paganism, 
joined to the inflexibility and perseverance of the Chris 
tians, kept his project from advancing with that speed 
which his malice as uell as zeal demanded. So that, 
impatient of delay, he struck out a new and daring 
project to alter the whole face of things at once. 
With this view lie planned the famous scheme of re 
building the TEMPLE OF JERUSALEM. Its final de- 
structi6n had been foretold both by Jesus and the 
Prophets : and it was, as he imagined, reserved for 



J Ep. xlix. Afvutiiu gxi/er ratailia;. Fragmentum Orationi? 
Kpistol.Tve, 
| Greg. Na?5. i. Orat. cont. Jul. Sozom. 1. \\ c. 16. 

this 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 59 

this favourite of the Gods *, to give the lye to their 
predictions. 

He had before (in pursuance of his general scheme 
of opposing Revelation to itself, by setting one sect 
against another) written to the body or community of 
the Jews t, in which he assured them of his protec 
tion ; his concern for their former ill usage ; and his 
fixed purpose to screen them from future oppression, 
that they might be at liberty, and in a disposition to 
redouble their vows for the prosperity of his reign. 
And concluded with a promise, that, if he came back 
victorious from the Persian war, he would rebuild 
Jerusalem, restore them to their possessions, live with 
them in the holy city, and join with them in the wor 
ship of the great God of the universe J. 

* His confident, Libanius, compliments him on his close com 
munion with the Gods, and on the familiar intercourse with 
which they honoured him. This he speaks of as a peculiar la- 
vour, as indeed it was, both to hear and see them. Kai p>voc <ru 

ra; \Ktivuv Ivpotxa.*; p-op^a? ivtict ipuv tv^oupowv eufo<; t ^ pony <rol tyovyq 

tav vififa ax.5er. Legat. ad Julian. This was doubtless at an 
initiation ; for Libanius informs us, in another place quoted above, 
that Julian had been joined in communion with Demons in all 
the mysteries. Of one of these initiations, Gregory, in his first 
oration against Julian, tells a remarkable story ; that as he de 
scended into the initiating cave, he was terrified with the visions 
That passed before him [see the account of the mysteries in the 
Div. Leg.], which, on his making the sign of the cross, tied and 
disappeared. I think this not incredible ; for the sign of the 
cross was then the common security against all sudden and 
unusual terrors ; and whatever the Demons did, the priests cer 
tainly did not like it. How they turned this farce to their advan 
tage, in the present case, may be seen in Gregory. 

j* laoociuv fa xotjuy. 

I KotltvQvvat TYJV fia.&ihsi av liii roe. xaAAtra, xa9a7T 

07Tt %p*J IPduTlt l^M^y I VOt KUyui TOV TUV HtffU 

rw IK T<roAAw!> truv 7n6t/ /* pewit moc,^ v^v l^i 

lipycraXvj/*, ipo?s xa/^aro*? avoixo^o/^aaij otxww, x^ " aiiTn o>o |a Suva, 

p9 vpuv ru xpinltn, Ep. XXV. 

So 



60 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

So that, after this, a proposal of beginning \vith 
the Temple, we may well think, would be eagerly 
embraced by them. Till this was rebuilt, their reli 
gion, as we have seen, was in a state of inanition ; 
sacrifices, which were essential to it, being forbidden 
to be offered in any other place. Hence the Jews had 
attempted, more than once, to restore it, in defiance 
of the power to which they were subject ; first, in the 
reign of Adrian, and afterwards, under that of Con- 
stantine * : but reasons of state defeated the former 
attempt ; and reasons of religion, the latter. Adrian 
regarded and punished it as a rebellion ; Constantino, 
as an impiety. They were now invited, as good sub 
jects and faithful worshippers of the true God, to se 
cond the Emperor s design in restoring them to their 
city and religion. 

But here if any one should ask, how it appears that 
Julian had the purpose we accuse him of? we shall 
refer him to the whole plan of Julian s conduct for an 
answer. For men s purposes are best declared by 
their actions. He had formed a design to ruin Chris 
tianity. He had played off the round of his machines 
to no purpose ; and was got, by due degrees, to this ; 
the only battery that was left untried. He had strove 
in vain to weaken its influence ; he would now, as his 
last effort, attack its pretensions : and his knowledge 
of the two religions enabled him to chuse his ground 
to advantage. This is -the utmost evidence the case 
will afford. For sure no man can be so absurd to 
imagine, that Julian (supposing this to be his inten 
tion) would proclaim his purpose by edict, or, what 
was the same thing, would tell it at court, till he had 
seen the issue of the event : though had that proved 
fortunate, we cannot doubt but the Imperial Sophist 
* Chrysost. advers. Judeeos, passim. 

would 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 61 

would have descanted on his triumph over the Gali 
Irean, in all the forms of the chancery, and in all the 
modes of the schools. But as his project was so 
effectually disgraced, it would be still more absurd 
to expect, that either he, or any of his band of sophists, 
should be forward to divulge the secret to the 
world. Indeed, their shyness in mentioning the 
disaster at Jerusalem, when their subject requires 
it, and the affected disguise they throw over it, 
when they cannot avoid it, are, to me, the strongest 
proofs of some conscious guilt, or severe mortifica 
tion. 

But the Christians of that time saw no cause to 
defer accusing Julian of this purpose, till he himself 
should think fit to confess it ; and, therefore, with one 
voice, they proclaim it, and charge it on him without 
scruple or hesitation, And the church was too atten 
tive to his motions to be the dupe of his professions, 
in any thing that concerned religion. The RUINED 
TEMPLE was the trophy of Christ s victory over his 
enemies ; so that a project to restore it, could not but 
give them the alarm. They collected, as we do now, 
(but with far better opportunities of so doing), what 
was Julian s real purpose, from his general character, 
and his particular behaviour towards them. Nor is 
it unlikely but they might get further intelligence from 
something dropt by his confidents, the Sophists, a 
people vain and talkative, and at no time renowned 
for secrecy. 

Thus much is certain, that the Christian writers are 
unanimous in what they say of Julian s motive : and 
seem to be so well assured of its not being brought in 
question, that they generally content themselves with 
calling it indefinitely, a pernicious project, destructive 



62 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

of Christianity *. But Sozomene goes further, and 
assures us, that not only Julian, but all the Gentiles, 
who assisted in it, pushed it forward upon that very 
motive ; and for the sake of that, suspended their 
aversion to the Jewish nation |\ For an aversion they 
always had, and that, no small one, if we may credit 
the best Pagan writers themselves. 

However this is not to be forgotten, that let Julian s 
motive be what it would, as the successful execution 
of his design must have impeached the veracity of the 
prophecies, there was a necessity for some interposi 
tion to defeat it. 

But, besides the principal purpose of utterly dis 
crediting the Christian name, there were other auxiliary 
motives to push Julian on to a speedy execution. Me 
liked the Jews for their bloody sacrifices, to which 
he himself was extravagantly given ; he liked them 
better for their implacable hatred to the Christians, 
in which he far outwent them ; and he soothed his 
family revenge, in favouring those whom Constantine 
had persecuted, and persecuted for this very attempt. 
To which we may add that which M arcellinus assigns 
as his principal motive, the glory of atchievirig so bold 

an enterprize J. 

/ 

* T&* ETra^vjxs KZ TO la^atjyv (fivhov YI^I/ Kat aTroxpt/Tr 
swa; ro-Xaayxalt T-/IV lirivoiuv Greg. Naz. K.# KO.T ?vAov <& 
o @ctcnXtv<; Ttf? Xptriava? @^<x.7r\eiv vn-uSd^uv Socr. AtTA > 
ri? tvtreGttas Ka< Ttf? is^aiy? KaOwTrXtcrs aoe.ru. TUV il<; Xfurov 
XQTUV Theodor. "On -nrpora|a? <pv)<ri laAtavo? roc lepoc-ohvpcx. av 
[AsTaQizi, u^ a,v ra$ -nrepi avruv ^crTroltxaj vrpopprxreu; 
Philost. apud Photium. 

f Ilcivla. $1 f 



ot pv yot^ WT tfato 
T?; awa&js, rwoXaCovle? $vvcrQou xa%p0Sv TO l/p^EJ 



I Imperil sui memoriam magnitudine operum gestiens propa- 
gare. Am. Marc. 1, iii. c. J. 

But 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 6; 

But Julian, who aimed at higher matters than ob 
taining the good-will of the Jews, would not intrust 
so important a design to their inclinations or abilities. 
He assumed the care of it himself; and carried on 
the project (as far as it was carried) under the Impe 
rial authority. He assigned for this purpose immense 
sums out of the public treasury. The superintendancy 
of it he committed to his bosom friend, Alypius * ; to 
whom lie joined, for his assistant, the governor of the 
province. Alypius was one who had been much 
obliged by Julian |, and for this reason, as is the 
nature of princes, was as much beloved by him : but 
their strongest tye was an equal malice* and con 
genial aversion to the Christian name ; qualities, doubt 
less, for which Alypius was preferred to that employ 
ment. This man, in conjunction with the Jews, and 
under the sanction of the Imperial authority, entered 
upon the business. They laid in immense quantities 
of materials ; they assembled vast numbers of work 
men ; the Jews, of both sexes, and of all degrees, 
bore a share in the labour : they entered upon the 
ruins, cleared away the rubbish, and opened the old 
foundations. 

An account of this attempt (to wave the testimony 
of Christian authors) is transmitted to us by a con 
temporary writer, of noble extraction, a friend and 
admirer of Julian, and his companion in arms ; a man 
of affairs, a lover of truth, learned, candid, and im- 
partial ; qualities which rendered him the best historian 
of his time; who, although neither ignorant of the 
doctrines, nor bigotted against the followers of our 
faith, yet was strongly attached to the superstition of 

* The xxixth and xxxth epistles of Julian are written to him, 
in the latter of which he calls him, A&Afe wQwtrctlt xj ffowur&lt. 
t See the xxixth Epistle, 

his 



64 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

his ancestors, and, in one word, a Pagan professed 
and declared * 

So 

* As there have been critics absurd enough to suspect that 
Ammianus Marcellinus might be a Christian; it may be just 
worth while to quote a passage of the celebrated Hadrian Valesius, 
who, in few words, has well exposed this groundless conceit. 
" Petras Pithoeus ad latus Ammiani sui manu sua notavit, eiirn 
" Christianum fuisse, propterea quod in libro xxvii. scripsit, 
" Antistites quosdam provinciales, id est, episcopos Christianorum, 
" PO.ICO victu, vili veste, & demissis oculis, perpetuo numini vc- 
lt risque ejus cultoribus \it parcos commendari $ verecundos. An 
" ideo Ammianus Christianus habendus eft, quod Deum Christi- 
" anorum perpetuum numen, id est, Deumaiternum, & Christianos 
" Antistites veros perpetui numinis cultorcs appellat ? Quasi 
" non veros perpetui numinis cultores Ammianus vocaverat Gen- 
" tiles ipsos ac sui similes, quibus quidam etiam Christianorum 
" episcopi in provinciis sanctitate vitae & verecundia commenda- 
" rentur ac placerent. Ita tamen de Ammiano sensit & Claudius 
" Chiffletius, cum verbis ejus supra laudatis, turn aliis levissimis 
" conjecturis adductus. Sed qui attente legerit, ijuae praeter 
" caetera in fine libri xiv de Adrasti vel Nemesi, quae in libro 
" xvi de Mercuric, quae in libro xxi de numine Themidis, de Ha- 
" ruspicina, de Auguriis, vanisque artibus futura praenoscendi, 
" veteres theologos suos, & physicos, ac mysticos secutus scripsit : 
" profectd fateri cogetur, euro cultui Deum addictum ac devotum 
" fuisse. Certe de diis gentium tanquam de suis semper loquitur ; 
" de Christianis sacris mysteriisque non item- NuiKjuam Chris- 
" tianis se adjungit ; nunquam & nusquam eorum se numero ad- 
" scribit ; & Julianum A. quem suum herou fecit, hanc praecipuo 
" ob causam mihi videtur toties & tantopeie laudare, quod a 
(i religione Christiana ad numinum cultum desciverit. Qua tamen 
" erat prudentid, adeo modeste atque sincere, ac nonnumquam 
" etiam benevolo de Christianis rebus commemorat, ut aliqui 
" unum ex nostris putaverint. Nimirum, sicuti existimo, vir 
" bonus, integer & sapiens religionem Christianam non sequi, 
" tuto se posse intelligebat : eandem principibus suis acceptam & 
" toto fer^ orbe Romano diffusam palam damnare non audebat, 
" sed & forsitan religionum diversitates non improbavit, per- 
" suasumque habuit (sicut ait De notitia Dei Symmachus) und 
" via non posse pervenire ad tarn grande secietum." Pixf. in 
poster. Am. Marc, editionem. To these a thousand other proofs 
might be added, I shall content myself, at present, with one, 

taken 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 65 

So much then the mo^t sceptical reader must be 
forced to grant. To doubt of this, would be subverting 

the 

taken from those very words which Chifflet lias given as tha 
strongest evidence of his Christianity, where, speaking of Con- 
ftuntius, he says, " Christianum religionem absolutam . sirn- 
" plicem ahili superstitiune confundens ; in qua scrutauda per- 
* nlexius quam compouenda gravius, excitavit discidia plurima; 
** qua? progressa fusius aluit concertatione verborum." Lib. xxi. 
c;-;p. 16. By these words (as the critics observe) are doubtless 
meant those two famous party badges, the l^vcn* and o^o^jt^. 
Now it seems odd, the historian should characterize a temper of 
mind, arising from a dispute of this kind (which has rather the 
appearance of a philosophic than a popular bigotry) by the name 
of anilis supcrstiti t. On a supposition, that the censurer was a 
Christian, it appears very odd : but consider him as a Pagan, 
and nothing is more natural : He must then see this question, 
concerning the Son of God, in the same light he did what their 
mythology taught concerning the paternity and filiation of their 
gods ; which the learned amongst them ranked in the first class 
of their aniles tttpcrttitianes. It is true, Ammu .nus thought more 
reverently of the Christian martyrs than the famous philosophic 
tmperor had formerly done (who called their virtue a mere brutish 
obstinacy, 4/jAj; -wpT*!*?, Lib. xi. 3.) for he says of them, 
" Qui cieviare a religione compulsi, pertulere cruciabiles pcenas, 
" cidnf quo gloriosam mortem intemcrata fide progrcssi mine Mar- 
" tyrts appellantur." Lib. xxii. cap. 11. But Antoninus was en 
tirely ignorant of the Christian religion: We have shewn above 
\vhat kept him from the knowledge of it. The historian knew it 
>voll, as appears from the character he gives it, of absoluta $ 
ftimi.-lt x: and the dying in defence of such a religion could not but 
be, in his opinion, mor* g oriosa : he being, as appears through 
out his history, a religious Theitt, and untaintinl with the Naturalism 
of Tacit us; for Christianity haul produced this good ellect in the 
quarter of its enemies, that it had entirely discredited the schools 
ot Strato and Epicurus, as Julian himself informs us. Ammianus, 
then, was Pagan, if his religion may be gathered from the re 
flections he makes upon his fads. It is true, this way of reason 
ing cannot be safely applied to any but to an original Writer of 
History. Compilers and Abbreviators of other men s works are 
not supposed to have any sense of their own ; they take their 
colours, like the Camelion, from the various matter on which 
VOL. VIII. F they 



66 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

the very foundations of human credit; and it might as 
well be questioned whether Caesar was assaulted in 
the senate, as whether Julian attempted to rebuild the 
Temple of Jerusalem. 

What now was the condition of the church at this 
juncture ! and how were the fears of the good people 
alarmed! It had long combated, and at length tri 
umphed ovei\ the prejudices of the people, the arts of 
the philosophers, and the violence of civil power. It 
had bent the obstinacy of superstition by x the superior 
force of miracles : it had confounded the meretricious 
confidence of Grecian Sophistry, by the simple majesty 
of Truth ; and had wearied out the rage of tyranny, 
by constancy and contempt of suffering. But it was 
now summoned to a severer, trial, and pushed upon 
the very crisis of its fate. Its enemies, supported by 
the whole power of the empire, had brought a decisive 
scheme to its projection ; a scheme that was to reflect 
eternal dishonour upon the Oracles of Truth. The 
credit of God s servants, the authority of his word, and 
the very pretensions of revelation, were ail vitally in 
terested in the event. The long struggle between 
SUPERSTITION and RELIGION was now to be finally 

decided. 

thy feed; and, with the facts, often epitomize the sentiments 
of their originals. George Elmacine, an Eastern Christian, whose, 
chronicle of the Saracens is translated from the Arabic by Erpe- 
nius into Latin, and by Vattier into French, is so regularly 
changeable in this respect, that Vattier very justly says of him, 
" Qu.md il paile de quelque chose concernant la religion de 
" Mahomet, on diroit qu il est Mahometan : Quand il parle des 
" Catholiques, qu il est Cathohque : Quand il p trie dcs Jacobites, 
" de mesme." The translator s reflection upon it is extraordinary, 
Gnmd perfection, a mon advis, pour un historien : pour uii 
" historien Chrestir.n, je n en pa;le point." Everyone sees the 
ridicule. However the maxim he had in view is a good one, 
That the historian should not appear to be of any sect or party. 
But this is very different from being of all in their turns. 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. C; 

decided. The God of the Christians was publicly 
challenged : his power was defied to protect his Dis 
pensation against this impending stroke. Destitute of 
all human aid, their only reliance was on heaven. 
And no believer, but must conclude, that God would 
indeed interpose to vindicate the character of his Son : 
no man, but must confess, that to support a Religion 
like this, was an occasion worthy the interposition of 
the Lord of all things. 

o 

Well, the impious attack was made ; and the ex 

pected protection afforded *. The same great and 

impartial historian, who acquaints us with the attempt, 

informs us likewise of the defeat of it. His account 

is in these words: " Julian (having been already thrice 

c consul) taking Sallust, prefect of the several Gauls, 

for his colleague, entered a fourth time on this high 

magistracy. It appeared strange to see a private 

man associated with Augustus: a thing, which, 

c since the consulate of Dioclesian and Aristobulus, 

history afforded no example of. And although his 

sensibility of the many and great events, which this 

year was likely to produce, made him very anxious 

for the future, yet he both pushed on the various 

and complicated preparatives for this expedition 

c with the utmost application, and, having an eye in 

every quarter, and being desirous to eternize his 

reign by the greatness of his atchievements, he pro- 

:: jected to rebuild, at an immense expense, the proud 

c and magnificent temple of Jerusalem ; which (after 

many combats, attended with much bloodshed on 



t<; rov >uo, aAAa TO 



Socrat. Uist. Eccl. lib. iii. cap. 20. 

F 2 " both 



68 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

" both sides, daring the siege by Yespathn) was, 
" with great difficulty, taken and destroyed by Titus. 
" He committed the conduct of this affair to ALYPJUS 
" of Antioch, who formerly had been lieutenant in 
" Britain. When, therefore, this "Aiypius had set 
" himself to the vigorous execution of his charge, in 
*.* wliich he had all the assistance that the governor 
" of the province could allord him, horrible halls of 
" fire, breaking out near the foundations, with ire- 
if quent and reiterated attacks, rendered the place, 
" from time to time, inaccessible to the scorched and 
" blasted workmen ; and the victorious element cors- 
" tinning, in this manner, obstinately and resolutely 
" bent, as it were, to drive them to a distance, Aiypius 
" thought best to give over the enterprise *." 

Thus did the vigilance of Providence not only vin 
dicate the honour of our holy faith in ihe open view of 
all men, but, in its goodness, secured the memory of 
this impious attempt by the testimony of the most un 
exceptionable witness. For were infidelity itself, when 

* Julianus jam ter consul adsclto in collegium trabea? Sul- 
lustio, praefecto per Gallias, quater ipse amplissimum inierat 
ma^i stratum : & videbatur no v urn, adjwnctum e^se Auj_usto pri- 
vatum, quod post Dioclesianum & Aristobulum nullus meminerat 
gestum. Et licet aCcidentium varietatem soilicita mente pneci* 
picris, multiplicalos expeditionis apparatis flagrunti studio pe- 
lurneret : dili^entiam tnmen ulique diviri ns, impeniquc sui me- 
monum nut^nitudine operum gestiens propagare, anibitiosum 
quondam apud liieiosolymam templum, quod post multa & in- 
temeciva certamma, obsidente Vespasianoi postcaque Tito, a^re 
est exj u^natum, instaurarc sumptibus cogitabat immodicis : ne- 
gotiumque m-dturandnm Alypio dederat Antiochensi, qui <^lim 
Sritaimias curaverat pro prsefectis. Cum itaque rei idem fortiter 
instaret Aiypius, juvaretque provinciae Rector, metut-ndi globi 
flammarum prope fundamenta crebris assukibus erumpeutes, ie- 
cere locum exustis aliquaties operantibus inaccessum : hocque 
jnf.d;) elemento destinatius repeliente, cessavit iuceptum. Amm. 
Ware. lib. xxiii, cap. i. 

it 



Chap. HI.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 69 

it would evade the force of evidence, to prescribe 
what qualities it expected in a faultless testimony, it 
could invent none but what might be found in the his 
torian here produced. Me was a Pagan, and so not 
prejudiced in favour of Christianity : He was a de 
pendent, a follower, and a profound admirer of Ju 
lian, and so not inclined to report any thing to his dis 
honour: He was a lover of truth, and so would not 
relate what he knew, or but suspected, to be ialse : 
He had great sense, improved by the study of philo 
sophy and knowledge of the world, and so would not 
easily suffer himself to be deceived : he was not only 
contemporary to the fact; but, at the time it happened, 
resident near the place : lie recorded the event not 
on its rirst report, when, in the relation of journaiary 
occurrences, much falsehood blends itsalf with truth; 
but after time and inquiry, which separates this impure 
mixture, had confirmed what really happened : He 
related it not as an uncertain report or hearsay, with 
diffidence ; but as a notorious fact, at that time, no 
more question d in Asia, than the project and success 
of the Persian expedition : He inserted it not for any 
partial purpose in support or confutation of any 
sys em ; in defence or discredit of any character : he 
delivered it in no cursory or transient manner, nor in 
a loose or private memoir; but gravely and deliberate 
ly, as the natural and necessary part of a composition 
the most useful and important, a general history of 
the empire; on the complete performance of which 
the author was so intent, that he exchanged a court 
life, for one of study and contemplation ; and chose 
Rome, the gre:it repository of the proper materials, 
for the place of his retirement. 



70 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

CHAP. IV. 

BUT the evidence, given by the adversaries of our 
faith to the truth of this illustrious miracle does not 
rest upon a single witness : I propose to shew, that 
Libanius, the friend and favourite of Julian, and even 
JULIAN himself, whose impiety brought this disgrace 
upon Paganism, have botli confessed the hand by which 
he was overcome ; though with that obscurity, and con 
fusion of tongue, which always attends the graceless 
shame of impenitent offenders. 

And I shall be the fuller in weighing the value of 
their testimony, as it hath hitherto, I think, been en 
tirely overlooked, and, by reason of an affected dis 
guise, passed the critics unobserved. 

Libanius, in the History of his own Life, speaking 
of the fate of Julian, says, "The Persians, indeed, 
" were informed by a deserter, of the state to which 
" fortune had now reduced our affairs: but not a 

1 single man * amongst us at Antioch, knew any 
" thing of the matter. It is true, the calamity seemed 

1 to have been foretold by certain earthquakes in 
" Palestine, which overthrew some cities, and da- 
" maged others. For it appeared to us, as if God 
<l had presignified some great event by these dis- 

e asters : and, while we were making our vows for 

" averting the evil we apprehended, came a mes- 

* Atyunuv pit w^i? The words are remarkable, and, I sus 
pect, emphatical. It looks as if he used them to discredit a com 
mon report then in the mouths of the people, and which hath 
since figured in ecclesiastical history, to this effect, " That 
Libanius, ahout this time, meeting a certain schoolmaster in 
Antioch, asked him, in derision, What the carpenter s son was 
doing? To which the other replied, Making a coffin for your 
hero/ 

" senger, 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 7* 

" senger, Sec *." Again, in his funeral oration on 
Julians death, he says, " The temple of Apollo con- 
" sumed by fire, presaged this misfortune as did 
" those earthquakes which shook all the land, the mes- 
" senders, as it were, of the following disorders and 
<c contusion f." It can admit no doubt but that the 
earthquakes spoken of in both passages, and said to 
have happened before the death of Julian, are the same. 
1\\e first says they were in Palestine; the second 
fixes them to the time of burning the temple at Daphne : 
all which laid together brings us direcily to the 
earthquake at Jerusalem. And though, either out of 
malice, imperfect information, or wrong conception 
of what he heard, he lessens the event by the omission 
of one circumstance, and aggravates it by the inven 
tion of others, yet the characteristic marks of time 
and place, which he has left to it, prevent his putting 
the change upon us, if that was his intention, as it 
seems to have been, if we reflect, that the circum 
stance of destroying cities, and shaking the whole 
empire, belong to an earthquake which happened about 
a year and half after Julian s death J, and of which 
he was well apprised, as appears by his oration to 
avenge the death of Julian, addressed to Theodosius : 

ivog otQeTv vnvi%e 



nv%ev t v oru 
rots jlO^MWfj ctv^u jrav pe* WEI?. SSKT/AO* $t iy\- 



T xaxa pgrtfto** viohtuv ru* Iv TJ 
rcc<; $t oAa? KMIMMMNff* iv 

,^se,lvtn>. ivxppf.wv ^ py ra, oJlct oo|afix, 
Tar j nut ATroXXwv tsryp* SUTTOI nu^tvoq raro 



J Kal. Aug. confeule Valent.niano primurn cum fratre hor- 
rendi tcrrores per ornnern orbis ambitum grassati sunt subiti. - 
concutitur ornnis terreni STABILITAS ponderis, MAREque dis~ 
pulsum ictro fluctibus evolutis abscessit. innumera quaedain in 
civitatibus & ubi repertu sunt xdificia compluuarunt, Am. Marc. 
L xx vi. c. 10. 

F 4 in 



72 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book L 

in which he tells the emperor, the Gods were angry 
that Julian s death had not been hitherto avenged : 
and had given evident marks of their displeasure by 
the frequent slaughters of the Roman people ; and a 
dreadful earthquake, which shook both land and sea*. 
Hitherto Libanius, , notwithstanding the disguisements 
taken notice of^above, hath reasonably vvell distin 
guished these t\vo different earthquakes, the one in 
Palestine, and the other over all the Roman empire; 
by expressly affirming, that the first happened bejbr.e 
the death of Julian ; and the second, some time 
after. Yet, in another place, in his oration on the 
death of Julian, he seems totally to have confounded 
them with one another f. 

But the carelessness or the perversity of the \vriters 
of these times, whether Christians or Pagans, is 
equally to be lamented. We have observed the arts 
Libanius employs to hide the earthquake at Jeru 
salem, and seen with what pomp he ascribes the dis 
aster occasioned by that, which happened under the 
iirst consulate of Valentinian and his brother, to the 
anger of the gods for the unavenged murder of Julian. 
On which account, I suppose, it is, that Sozomene 
affirms, that this earthquake happened in the time of 
Julian :, and makes it one of the marks of God s 
displeasure at his apostasy. So again because Li- 



* * 



O 



& >}* o? /ixEx aTTfiOiojc-xf V, o 02 tfAsXAox. o <<> FHN ft tffm xj 
OAAATTAN. C. 1O. 
f *H per ye -yri, 



, &C. 

a^a nra>1fl6 tot X%ovor ravly?} ry<; f3ttp^eia.<; ot,ya,t>a.)tlu 
Ssoj itpxinClo T?? TE yu,g yr,<; 



cryjipa. TW 

w<rt yiyon &*$& , &c. Lib. vi. C. 2. 

banius 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 73 

banius had with excessive impudence accused the 
Christians of the death of Julian, Gregory Naz. to be 
even with him, charges Julian with the murder of 
Constautius. Each, I dare say, with equal justice ; 
both, I am well satisfied, with the same spirit. 

I come now to the testimony of Julian. His 
letter to the community of the Jews has been already 
mentioned. From that part of it, wherein he informs 
them how he had punished such as had given their 
people unjust vexation, it appears to have been written 
early in his reign; on his first coming to Constanti 
nople, when lie purged the city and palace of spies, 
informers, and the like pests of a corrupted court *. 
The principal design of it is to acquaint them with 

his 

* Sozomcne takes notice of this letter, xj 9M 



?. Notwithstanding which, those who have 
conveyed it down to us have stampt this mark of doubt arid 
suspicion on the face of it, el yi^<r*. Without question, they 
believed it to he forged hy the Jews. The writer of it styles 
the injuries offered to the Jews, impious ; as if they were a holy 

nation Kcu TO T^? Tota^r*?? ^Wp^aia? acsffvpac, iflctvQa ioi<xer^r, 
r5jra : tells them that he had precipitated the delators into 
horrible dungeons with his own hands, w? pit lyu iv Xfffif e^ai? 
it; /SoG^ov u<7a<; uAtca,: calls the patriarch brother, TO 
l^ta-^uroilot ccra\ta^" : anc ^ proniises, that when 
he had restored their city, he would come thither, and live and 
worship with them. All these particular?, the critics conceived 
to smell strongly of imposture. 

But what probably most confirmed their suspicions, was the 
vse the Jews made of it, to evade a miracle that so much 
humbled them : We see it only promises their restoration after 
his Persian expedition. And one K. David Cans, of the sixteenth 
century, in the second part of his book, called Zamach, quoted 
by Wagenseilius, in his Tela ignea Satana?, p. 231. appear^ to 
have made this very use of it. " Julianus C ycsar praecepit ut 
* restitueretur templum sanctissimum, magno cum decore & 
" pulchritudine, huicque rei ipse sumtus suppeditavit. Verum 

" coelitus 



74 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book L 

his purpose to rebuild their city, on his return from 
the Persian war. And without doubt he then in 
tended 

" ccelitus impedimentum injectum est ne perficeretur fabrica, 
" NAM Caesar ia bello Persico periit." 

But what Greg. Nazianzen, in his second Invective, tells us 
of the conference that followed this letter, plainly shews it to be 
genuine. Julian, he says, assured the leaders of the Jews, 
he had discovered, from their sacred books, that the time of 
their restoration was at hand. iwAtia^uv re $J0 ex. 
*yro<V & &huv x^ atvroppviTUv, u$ vvv oivToTs oinwi ipivw tin 
li; rw exvluv xj i/euv v^^acr6ai, x^ ruv vrotl^uv TO xgdr 
xj a9roxy9r1o/*i/^ fyi/oia? Gtf.a<r//,al rvtv tTrtvvmv. It is not a mere 
curiosity to inquire, what prophecy it was, that Julian per 
verted ; because it tends ,to confirm the truth of Nazianzen s 
relation. I have sometimes thought it might possibly be the 
words of the Septuagint, in Dan. ix. 27. Tvf\i\iia. ^ofi^era* im 
TW ipvuo-w. The ambiguity of which Julian took the advantage 
of (against Hellenistic Jews, who, it is probable, knew no more 
of the original than himself) as signifying, the tribute shall be 
given to the desolate, instead of, the consummation shall be poured 
upon the desolate. For the letter in que tion tells us, he had 
remitted their tribute ; and by so doing, we see, was for passing 
himself upon them for a kind of second Cyrus. 

All this (that is to say, the authenticity of the letter, the 
truth of Nazianzen s relation, and this conjecture concerning 
. the prophecy Julian pretended to go upon) seems greatly to be 
supported by what the Christian writers say of the behaviour 
of the Jews while the project was in agitation. Socrates assures 
us, that they menaced the Christians, and threatened to treat 
them as they themselves had been treated by the Romans. L. iii. 
c. 2O. po&py? <ii To*V Xfij-iayoK iiiriJfcMknwu ioe1(i r/A#o*t;o>lo 
ri xar* avTvv, iTraTretXfc J lEs Tcxrayra i&owctw, oca, ctvTQk / sr*. PapouM 
raXa czrsTrovQacn. And Rutinus s.tys, they were as rain as if 
they had had a prophet of their own at their head. And this they 
might well be, when they had an emperor who promised to 
live and worship with them, and set himseli up for the restorer 
foretold by their prophets. 

There is only one thing in the letter, which remains to be 
accounted for; and that is, the strange boast of his personal 
achievement, in thrusting down the delators into dungeons with 
his ovn hands; in which the Imperial character is so little 

preserved, 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 75 

tended to defer the re-establishment of the Jewish 
religion till that war was at an end. But his various 
attacks upon Christianity not succeeding to his hopes, 
he grew enraged by his defeat, and resolved to put 
this last effort of his malice in immediate execution. 

We may be assured, this letter had brought the 
principal Jews, from all quarters of the world, to 
court. The manner in which he appeared to interest 
himself in their quarrel, could not but persuade them, 
that the apostate from Christianity was become more 
than half a proselyte to Judaism. While he, on his 
part, flattered himself, that those who adhered so 
obstinately to bloody sacrifices might be easily cajoled 
into idolatry. 

These, apparently, were the men, then residing at 
court, and waiting for his favours, whom, Chrysos- 
tome and Gregory Nazianzen tell us, he called 
together, to inquire, Why they did not offer sacri 
fices as the law directed ; at. a time when the empire 
stood so much in need of the divine protection, and 
the emperor was so well disposed to implore it from 
all quarters. They replied, that it was not lawful 
to sacrifice but in the temple of Jerusalem only. This 
was what He would be at : so he took the advantage 

o 

of their answer, to facilitate his secret purpose; 
which was to give the lie at once to all the prophets 
and messengers of God. 

For 

preserved, that the learned M. de la Bleterie is almost tempted, 
on this single circumstance, to give up the letter for a forgery. 
But he here forgets what he himself had before mentioned of 
the strange escapes of this fantastic monarch. " Saint Gregoire 
" Nazianze dit, que Julien cJiassoit a coups de pie & de poing 
" de pauvres gens qui venoient lui demander des graces. Ces 
" pauvres gens (says M. de la Bleterie) pouvoient bien etre des 
" DELATEURS." Vie de Julien, p. 314. 2d edit. 



76 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

For we are by no means to suppose him so ignorant 
as not to kno.v what the law in this case required. 
That very letter to the community plainly insinuates 
he did know it. His acquaintance with Scripture 
must have informed him of it : for if (.hero was eny 
part to which he would give greater attention than the 
rest, it was the ritual of sacrifices, a species of 
worship, to which he was inordinately addicted. Be 
sides, in his discourse against the Christian Religion, 
he occasionally, but in express words, declares, that 
it was of the nature of the Mosaic Law, to offer sa 
crifices at Jerusalem only*. But as this discourse 
was written some time after the consultation in question, 
I would lay the less weight upon it. 

However, no one. I think, can doubt, but that 
the whole conference was a farce; that Julian only 
wanted a screen for his impiety; and that the pre 
tence of procuring the means of their intercession with 
the God of the universe, for the prosperity of the 
empire, was no other than a decent cover for putting 
this last effort of his malice in present execution. 
The Jews eagerly fell in with his project; and the 
issue was as we have related it. 

This great event happened in the beginning of the 
year CCCLXIIT, as appears from the words of Am- 
mianus MarcclHnus, quoted above. Julian, who then 
wintered at Antioch, was preparing for his Persian 
expedition ; for which he did not set out till the 
month of March. So unexpected a traverse, we must 
suppose, would be immediately carried to himf, with 
all tiie circumstances that attended it: Alypius could 



a SiJ/Ie ; - apud Cyril, p. 306. Spanh. ed, 

OtVTX Y)KZCt /Aty l&t(. TllCod. 1. Hi. C, 2O. 

not 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 77 

not but assure him, that the repeated eruptions 
made it impracticable to persist in the attempt; and 
that the consumption of the materials utterly disabled 
his agents from speedily renewing it. What his first 
sentiments were, on this occasion, we have no certain 
or p t;;i< !;Lir account: how he resented the disgrace 
in his cooler hours, 1 am now going to shew. 

There is, amongst the writings of Julian, a notable 
fragment of an oration, or epistle, call it which you 
will, first given us by Petavius, wherein the emperor, 
with great abilities and learning, prescribes and marks 
out a method to reform Paganism, and set it up for 
a rival to the Gospel, in all the plausible pretences 
to piety and virtue. This, and his books against 
the Christian Religion, were the two master wheels 
of the same machine: the one was to degrade Chris 
tianity, the, other to advance superstition : wnd there 
fore it is no wonder we find them written at the same 
time. St. Jerom expressly says*", that the bo-yks 
against our holy faifn were composed during the 
Persian expedition. Libanius, indeed, intimates, they 
were written in his winter quarters at Antioch. Their 

* Ep. Ixxxiii. ad magnum oratorein. And hV historian tells 
us, that, even to the last, while harassed with famine and 
ti.e Persian cavalry, he continued to employ the silent hours of 
the night, in his usu.il sophistic exercises of reading and com 
posing: which Ammianns, to do his master honour, says, was 
iu imitation of Julius Cresar. Ipse autem sal sollieitam sus- 
pensamque quietem paulisper protractu?, cum somno (ut solrbat) 
cltip .ilso, ad amiulationem Caesaris Julii qusedam sub pellibus 
scribens,_ obscuro tioctis, altittid.ne stnsus omisdam philosophi 
teneretur, vidit squalidius, ut confessus est proximis, speciem 
illam genii publici, &c. lib. xxv. c. -2. And it is not improbable 
but his favourite Libanius had those very writings in his eye, 
when he said that the life of Itis mnster, Julian, was then equally 
divided between his cares for religion and the state. Olrcx; yot% 
if i o p.if t<rot,$ otLre tiiv ftiQ* f i$ TS TCHC v<x\f> TUV four ^W/\? JK TE Totf 
<ar: /?a>^4Jj Aia^iC*?, I/c ulcisc. Julian, liefC. 

accounts 



78 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

accounts may be easily reconciled, in supposing that 
this part was planned and begun before his remove. 
However, the other part, the directions for the re 
formation of Paganism, was as late as the Persian 
expedition ; for this, we have the author s own word, 
where, speaking of the customary honours paid to 
the Gods, he says " which not THREE years, nor 
" three thousand have established : but all past ages, 
" amongst all the nations upon earth *." By the three 
years he evidently alludes to his restoration of ido 
latry; which, at any time sooner than the Persian 
expedition, was not intitled to so high a date. For he 
was first saluted Augustus in the spring of the year 
CCCLX, and the Persian expedition was in the 
spring cecLxni. 

At this time, therefore, he had well digested his 
defeat at Jerusalem. What effects it left upon his 
temper, the following passage of this fragment will 
inform us ; where, after having justified the Gods for 
suffering their temples, images, and most devout wor 
shippers to be injuriously treated, he goes on thus : 
" Let no man, therefore, because he hath seen or 
" heard of those who have insulted their images and 
" Temples, entertain any doubts concerning their 
" supcrintendency. For this reason too, let them not 
" think to delude us with their sophistry, nor terrify 
" us with the cry of Providence. For, the prophets 
* amongst the Jews, who so much upbraid us with 
(< these disasters, what will they say to their own 
11 temple ? that temple of theirs, which has been now 
ft a third time destroyed f, and is not raised again 

"to 



n emotvlol 
oiiuv Iv ^roi<r^ roT? TTJ? yrjg eQvto-u>. p. 294. Spanh. Ld. 

f The learned J. A. Fubricius thinks thi r^rw **lgaflrsYl& 

includes 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 79 

" to this day. I say not this to upbraid them ; for 
" I myself, after so long a desolation, would have 
" rebuilt it*, in honour of the God which was there 
" worshipped. But I now mention it only as I was 
" milling to shew, that nothing human is exempt 
<c from the injuries of time. As to the prophets, 
" who write in this manner, they merely rave, arid 
" cant to the capacities of dreaming old women. Not 
" that I would insinuate, the God the} worship is 
" not great and mighty : but this I say, he hath no 
" good prophets, nor interpreters of his will, amongst 

" them. 

includes the defeat of Julian s attempt to rebuild the temple ; 
and so, in his Lux Evangelii, he brings it to prove Julian s own 
acknowledgement of the miracle : in which he has been followed 
]by M. de la Bleterie and others. But 1, Defeating an attempt 
to rebuild, cannot, in any known figure of speech, be called 
the overthrow of a building. 2. Eyfipopevy ^e a^e v can never 
be said of a building destroyed but two months before. In a 
word, Fabricius is mistaken ; the three subversions here meant, 
were that by the Assyrians, that by Herod, the son of An- 
tipater, and that by Vespasian. And though Herod s demo 
lition of it was only in order to rebuild it more magnificently, 
yet it was such a destruction as Julian might properly enough 
urge for the support of his argument, against an objection, 
that supposed stability and duration amongst the qualities to 
be looked for in the domicile of the true God ; which the Pagan 
temples not having, were concluded to belong to the false. Or 
it may possibly be, that, instead of Herod s demolition, he 
might allude to the profanation of it by Antiochus, as a 
learned friend suggests. But what is decisive against Fabricius s 
interpretation is this: Julian in one and the same paragraph 
could never call his project a destiuction of the temple, and an 
attempt to rebuild it. 

* offyt T6<7roK vrsgov %p6fOH; stvctryo cicQ&i OHVW^W ad/tot I do 
not urge this Independent declaration (which implies some 
hindrance of his purpose) against the unbelievers, because they 
will say, " the hindrance appears to have been the Persian ex- 
? pedition ; Julian having told the Jews, in his Letter still extant, 
? that he would rebuild their temple when he had ended 
f f war, which implies his inability of doing it before." 



8o OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book. I. 

" them. The reason is, they never applied tliem- 
" selves to purge and purify the mind in the circle of 
" human science, nor tried to open their eyes which 
( ignorance had shut up, nor strove to drive away 
" the darkness in which they lay involved : but are 
" as men, who through mists or clouds see the great 
" light of heaven * neither clearly nor distinctly, and 
" mistake that ethereal splendor for an impure tcr- 
" res trial fire ; and, stark blind to all nature working 
<c round them, roar out with frantic vehemence, Fear 
" and tremble, ye inhabitants of earth! Fire, light- 
" ning, the sword, darts, death, and all the frightful 
i{ words that express that one destructive property of 
" FIRE. But of these things it is more expedient to 
" speak in private, where we may shew, how much 
" these masters of wisdom, who pretend to be sent 
" from God, are inferior to our Poets |." 

The 



* Julian, by <pu< psy*, means the Sun, as before, scv 
the God of the Universe. For, ^ xotQ*$v, which follows, was, 
1 believe, never used by these fanatic platonistF, lor a tar- 
rcsirinl fire, it being the term they gave to 1 their holy light, or 
av7ovloy ayxXpot. Julian thought nothing mere holy than the 
Sun. He did not add the article, because he is here expressing 
the idea of the mistaken beholder, a great light, though, by that, 
he himself meant, the great light. 

-f M*;^e*5 a* aTTtrs TW SsoiV ofuv xj uy.xun u$ \v^ca,v nvst; el<; to, 
xj T? NAOTS. MijJs*? 5v aTroiarft; Ajyo*;* fM n^ftrUrtf 
<n7!ij 0iig WIAXS 6* yap ViUitv QM*i^oni< TotaDra, run IttatHUt 
ci Tlft>$r,ra,i, ri <o}^\ TV vtu ty --tcxci \ re -crap t/rc*if rpi 



rrov 



ea VM %jf*ju& K JTCJJ oitai aXo^Jv -, or rut u 

Mvotloti xj e* ra raia.VTa ypa^oflt? (A^f arpo(p 
o/t*Xu/i*?. OvfiEv, ^ ot/xai, xw^vfi 7oy pz v 
nuSaiuv tzfo$r\uv v$i t^yr^v rv^eTv, a^ftov ^ 
a vra^sff ^ov at7roxa.Qa.pat TO 



Chap, IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 81 

The reader, who consults the fragment from whence 
this long passage is transcribed, will perceive, that it is 
a mere digression. But if it were foreign to his sub 
ject, we shall see it concerned a matter very intimate 
to his thoughts. The persecuted church of Christ was, 
at this time, triumphant, and loudly exulting in the 
divine protection so miraculously afforded it. The 
apostate, when the power of the empire failed him, 
had recourse to this last expedient, the arms of ca 
lumny, to vent his rage, and cover the shame of his 
disappointment. And then it was that, exchanging 
the Imperial for the Sophist s throne*, he composed 
the two discourses mentioned above. Now, to be 
altogether silent on a subject, that was plainly the 
occasion of his writing, w r ould have been an affectation 
that had rather betrayed, than covered, his self-con 
viction. On the other hand, the soldier s pride of 
heart, the pedant s contempt for his unclassical adver 
saries, and the monarch s delicacy for the imperial 
dignity, would not suffer him to enter on a formal 
altercation. Besides, in this case, he must either have 
confessed or denied the fact. The one would have 
completed the triumph of his adversaries ; and the 
other offended the ingenuity of his friends. He there 
fore chose a middle way : and, under shew of exposing 
the denunciations of the Jewish prophets against past 
idolatries, as the ravings of enthusiasm, lie covertly 

condemns 



/xt TUTV <a loAto 

uru yiywoio-i votf/I^y* Tut virtg ru $tu hoyuv oiaa<rxaAo. p. 295. 

Spanh. Ed. 



Orat. i. 

VOL. VIII. G 



82 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

% 

condemns the present triumphs of the church as the 
workings of the same spirit, upon the ground of a 
natural event. 

For, taking occasion (though the subject of the 
work before us was- the reformation of Paganism) to 
vindicate that ancient worship from the dishonour* it 
had from time to time suffered, in the overthrow of 
its temples and idols, he observes, that those who ex 
ulted most in its disgraces, the Jewish ftopJtets (whose 
writings, indeed, abound with exclamations and denun 
ciations on the folly of idolatry, the impuissance of 
idols, and the destruction to which both were devoted) 
had of all men the least reason to triumph ; since 
their own TEMPLE had been thrice destroyed, and at 
that very time lay in ruins. This leads him to the 
subject he wanted to touch upon : he therefore adds, 
that be spoke this out of no ill-will to the community 
of the Jacs, for that he was himself desirous of re 
building their temple. No, but only to convince them 
that neither the overthrow of their temple, nor the 
temples of Paganism, was to be ascribed to divine 
wrathy but to the natural condition of earthly things. 
And, enraged at the contrary principle, which occa 
sioned these exultations in the Christian church, he 
attempts to shew, in the character he gives of the 
Jewish prophets, which he trusted the intelligent reader 
would apply to the Christian ministers, that it was the 
issue of ignorance and superstition. These prophets 
he represents as despising human science, and acting 
upon the principles, and preaching to the capacities 
of ignorant and superstitious women, a character 
which was, and might be, objected to the Christian 
ministry > whose writings are full of exclamations 
against Grecian literature, but what by no means 
suited the Jewish prophets, who appear to have had 
19 as 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 83 

as much of the barbaric learning of those early times 
as any of their Pagan neighbours. But, lest this should 
not sufficiently mark his purpose, by an elegant simi 
litude, in which he employs his favourite idol, the Sun, 
to shew the root of these superstitions to be the igno 
rance of nature; he makes those, whom he supposes 
under its illusions, to cry out in the very exclamations 
that then resounded from one end of the Christian 
world to the other, Fear and tremble, ye inhabitants 
of earth / Fire, lightning, the sword, darts, death, 
and all the frightful words (says he) which express that 
one destructive property of Jire. By which he plainly 
enough insinuates that this boasted miracle, by which 
his purpose was defeated was only a natural eruption : 
but that the Christians were as ignorant of natural 
causes as men who seeing the Sun through mists mis 
take it for a globe of terrestrial fire. But as if now 
he had run riot, he suddenly checks himself, and ob 
serves, that this was a subject properer for a private 
audience. And here the genius of Paganism came to 
his aid very opportunely ; which, when pinched and 
distressed, was always as ready to cry out MYSTERY, 
as he says the church was to call out FIIIE. To say 
the truth, it was full time to draw back. He had con 
fessed his inclination and purpose of rebuilding the 
Jewish temple ; and had evidently enough hinted at 
the exultations of the Christians on his defeat; so that 
he had indeed nothing to do, but to put off the cause 
to a private audience. 

On this exposition of the passage, let me just make 
the following remarks, 

1. If we understand Julian s reflections as indefinite, 
nothing can be more disjointed or absurd. The Chris 
tians of that time were wont to draw an argument of 

G 2 the 



84 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

the impuissance of polytheism from the repeated dis 
graces the heathen temples and their idols had suffered 
in every period of the world . Julian undertakes to solve 
this objection ; but, instead of directing his answer to 
the Christians, who now make it against him, he retorts 
it upon the Jews, who, many ages ago, had made it 
against others. These he wantonly provokes at a time 
his views made them necessary to him. Again, he 
characterizes these prophets in so ambiguous and loose 
a manner, that you may either take them for the 
-writers of the Old Testament, or the heads of the 
Jewish community of that time : which no rule of 
composition can account for, but that which allows 
cautious writers to explain one system of things by the 
names that belong to another. Lastly, he speaks of 
terrifying exclamations as made by the prophets, which 
they never did make ; and which, though made by 
Christ and his Apostles, are applied by them to the 
punishments of a future state ; whereas he is speaking 
of what the worshippers of one God say of the dispen 
sation of his providence in the present. We must con 
clude therefore, that the exclamations ridiculed in this 
passage must needs be those which the recent event at 
Jerusalem had just occasioned. 

2. Take the passage in this determined sense, and 
nothing can be more artful than the conduct of the 
imperial sophist. Our religion was at this juncture 
properly victorious. It was exulting over Paganism 
in the destruction of the temple at Daphne * ; it was 

exulting 

* The Oracle of Apollo in the temple at Daphne near Antioch 
had been dumb for some time. When Julian came thither, he 
urged the God himself to declare the cause of his silence. The 
Oracle replied, that he was hirid-ed by the bones of St. 
Babylas, which \veie then inshnned in his neighbourhood. These 

Julian 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 85 

exulting over Judaism in the divine opposition to the 
restoration of that at Jerusalem ; and over the Apostate 
Emperor in the disgraces of both. This spirit Julian 
wanted to repress and mortify. In the case of Apollo s 
temple he had no reason to be delicate. As to that of 
the God of Israel, \vc have shewn, it would not bear 
a professed mention. How has he conducted his dis 
course? By retorting upon the Jews, in the case of 
their old ruined temple, the Christian objection arising 
from that at Daphne : which recrimination served a 
double purpose ; to introduce what he had to say on 
his own baffled attempt; and to say it (which was 
the point) obscurely and darkly. Thus the Christian 
triumphs, which he introduces to ridicule, are so re 
presented as to have a more obvious reference to 
the temple at Daphne, and a covert one to the 
temple at Jerusalem, by the choice of several words 
and circumstances which necessarily extend it to that 
further meaning. Thus, for instance, the circum 
stance of their ignorance of nature, rw zr^l aur 
-srdfluv false aOcolo*, by which he would insinuate, that 
the readiness in believing miracles arises from that 
ignorance. But he could never intend this observation 
should be applied to the temple at Daphne, which he 
did not believe was set on fire by lightning. And thus 
again the words ^ai/ol^ ^a ^a^a, p/ufa/a, the sword, 
darts, death, which he adds to *ru{, pAo, fire, light- 
?2ing, necessarily carry us to Jerusalem, where the 
eruption occasioned much human slaughter, whereas 
nothing suffered at Antioch but the temple of Apollo. 
And with these views the retortion on the Jewish 
writers will not appear so forced and unnatural. It 

was 

Julian ordered to be removed : And soon after the temple at Daphne 
was burnt to the ground. The Christians (says Sozomene) affirmed 
it was by lightning from Heaven : but the Pagans laughed at this, 
and said it \vu> fired by the Galileans 

G 3 



86 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

was a Christian practice to apply the language of the 
Old Testament to the events of the gospel dispensation ; 
and the disgrace of idols and idolaters being the con 
stant subject of those writings, we may be sure, the 
Christians would not fail to apply every thing of this 
nature to the present occasion *. So that those scrip 
tures being employed as divine decisions to confirm 
their cause, naturally became the object of Julian s 
resentment. 

3. This likewise well accounts for the title of 
Prophets, which he gives these Jewish writers or 
rulers; and for his abuse of them under that character. 
It was to prevent the reader s stopping at Apollo s 
temple, when it was the writer s purpose to lead him 
silently to that of Jerusalem : to which only the Jewish 
prophets and their prophecies had any relation. These 
things then we may consider as certain marks of his 
further meaning. And, indeed, if he had it not, 
what reason was there for being so shy in the mention 

* Theodorr.t tells the following story, very apposite to this sub 
ject : He says, that \Vhen Julian was at Antiocb, one Publia, a 
venerable matron, and at the head of a community of virgins 
devoted to religion, took occasion, whenever the Emperor went 
that way, to chant louder than was the custom, in defiance of his 
impiety: they chose too to sing those psalms of David which 
ridicule the vanity and impuissance of idols, a. ruv liJlutoi Hupu^H 
vw affQfveictv, and particularly the following verses. The Idols of 
the Heal kens are but s herand gold, the. work of men s hands : they 
that makt them are like unto them, and so are oil they that put their 
trust in them. Julian (as he had reason) was offended with thit 
insult, and, as often as he passed by, ordered them to be silent. 
Instead of obeying, Publia exhorted her virgins to strain their 
throats still higher, and especially when they came to this verse: 
Let Gvd. arise, and let hi* enemies be scattered. This provoked the 
Emperor to order one of his guards to bring out the old woman 
and box her ears, which (says the historian) Publia esteemed a 
great honour, and went on to torment thoiapostate with her psalm- 
singing, in the same manner as the author of the Psalms torment 
ed the evil spirit in Saul. L- iii. c. xix. 

of 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 87 

of that idol temple? its destruction did not at all dis 
tress him ; as he believed it to be set on fire by the 
Christians. But, in the other case, he had to do with 
the God of the Christians ; -and he was not yet in an 
humour, whatever he might be afterwards, to cry, 
I icisti, G all tee. 

4. It being now seen, that Julian in this passage 
evidently refers to his defeat, the covert manner in 
which he owns himself overcome adds greatly to the 
weight of it. For no suspicion can lie against so 
oblique a reference to the fact, even in the opinion of 
those who could smell forgery in an open and direct 
confession. An impostor, piously disposed to procure 
Julian s testimony against himself, would never think 
of doing it so obscurely, as that it should escape the 
notice of those whom he principally intended to im 
pose upon. 

Thus far concerning the APOSTATE S own testi 
mony. But as there were three parties interested in 
this affair, the Pagans, the Jews, and the Christians ; 
our evidence might be thought defective, if any one 
of them were wanting on so important an occasion. 

We shall therefore, in the next place, produce the 
v timony of a famous RABBI; who, though late in 
time, yet composed the work, from whence the fol 
lowing passage is taken, on the traditions and records 
of the several ages he writes of. This is the cele 
brated R. Gedaliah ben Joseph Jeclmja; he lived in 
the fifteenth century, and, in his history called 
Schalscheleth Hakkabbala, expresses himself to this 
< fleet: "In the days of R. Channan and his brethren, 
" about the year of the world 4349, our annals tell 
" us, there was a great earthquake over all the earth , 
" by which the temple which the Jews had raised at 

G 4 " Jerusalem 



8S OF JULIANA ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

" Jerusalem with vast expenee, at the command of 
Cc Julian the apostate, was thrown down. The day 
" after the earthquake, a dreadful fire fell from 
" heaven, which melted all the iron tools and instru- 
" ments employed about the work; and destroyed 
" many, nay incredible numbers of tKe Jews *." I 
will make two remarks on this testimony, i. The 
historian s calling it an earthquake over all the earth, 
is in the language of the Jews ; and the same with 
that of the Evangelist, who tells us, that at the 
crucifixion, there was darkness over all the earth f. 
2. This story of a rebuilt temple, shews he had his 
materials neither from Pagan nor Christian writers ; 
who are unanimous that no more than the foundations 
were prepared. And, as there is no visible purpose 
why he should invent it, we must conclude, he found 
it thus related in the annals of the rabbins; the com 
posers of which might possibly draw this conclusion 
from what they found recorded of the immense con 
tributions of their people. 3. The historian says, it 
was at the command of Julian ; which, without bringing 
Christianity into the question, supplies his reader 
with a plausible account of this visible mark of the 
divine displeasure at the attempt J ; and consequently 
affords his brethren a principle on which they might 
believe the fact, consistently with their profession of 
Judaism. 

* In diebus R. Channan & sociorum ejus, anno circiter orbi,? 
conditi 4349, memorant libri annalium, magnum in orbe universo 
fuissc terra? motum, collapsumque esse templum quod struxerunt 
Judaei Uierosolymis, prrecepto Caesaris Juliani Apostatae, impensis 
maximis. Postridie ejus diei [quo mota fuerat terra] de Coelo 
ignis multus cecidit, ita ut omnia ferramenta illus aedincii liqnes- 
cerent & amburerentur Judcei multi atque adeo innumerabiles. 
Apud Wagenseil, Tela ignea Satance 

f Luke xxiii. 44. J Book II. c. iv. 



Chap. V.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 89 



CHAP. V. 

HERE then, for the present, we shall rest our 
evidence; ON THE CONFESSION OF OUR ADVERSARIES 
THEMSELVES : And, from the nature of the TESTI 
MONY, proceed to some considerations on the nature 
of the FACT, in order to the fuller establishment of 
this important truth. 

One of the requisite qualities in a forged miracle, 
that pretends to live and do well, is, that the fact on 
which it rises be private, obscure, unconcerning, and 
remote from general observation. And though these 
circumstances may sometimes attend a true one ; yet 
that is but accidental, and hurts not its credit, so long 
as it is accompanied (which it ever is) with others, 
that supply their defects. But for a forged miracle 
to affect the distinction of public notoriety, would be 
too impudent a reliance even on religious credulity. 
To feign a miracle on a civil fact, which must have 
passed in sight of a whole nation, would be rather 
an attempt to put out men s eyes, than to impose on 
their understandings. Hence it is we find, the lying 
wonders of him, whose coming was after the working 
of Satan*> so well answer the description which He, 
who came with all the power of the Father, hath 
given us of every subtile Impostor in general, that 
they love darkness rather than light, because their 
deeds are evil. 

Now the PROJECT to rebuild the temple of Jeru 
salem was a public transaction, the most notorious 
and interesting of that age. 

The PROJECTOR was no other than the Emperor 

* a Thcss. ii. 9. 

of 



90 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

of the world himself: a circumstance alone sufficient 
to draw the attention of the world upon it. 

His ATTEMPT produced other circumstances that 
would obtrude themselves even on the most incurious. 
The principal Jews were called together from all 
quarters * : Atypius, a man of the fifst figure, was 
put at the head of the undertaking : immense quan 
tities of materials were laid in; vast numbers of 
workmen were assembled ; and the impotent triumphs. 
of the Jews gave an eclat to every movement which 
the restless though determined spirit of Julian was 
hourly pushing forward. 

The PLACE contributed no less to its notoriety. It 
was in the centre of the empire; and in the head 
quarters of the two religious parties that then di 
vided it. 

The TIME likewise was critical. The religious 
world had just suffered a surprising revolution. It 
had been suddenly brought back from the new opinions 
to a profession of the old. Yet the disgraced religion, 
by courage and constancy in suffering, still kept its 
enemies anxious amidst all their success, and fearful, 
amidst all their power, for what might be the final 
issue. 

The ACTION too was capitally interesting: The 
design of the project w r as to give the last blow to the 
credit of Christianity. And the honour of the new 
and old profession Avas staked on the event. 

We have shewn that every body understood Ju 
lian s purpose to be no other than to put a public 
affront upon Revelation. Paganism was big with 



Tlieodoret, Hist. Eccl. 1. iii. c. 20. 

expectation 



Chap. V.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 91 

expectation. The Church in general was alarmed ; 
but the more knowing and pious amongst them, to the 
very last, mocked and defied the impiety of the 
attempt *. 

Such were the various passions and interests which 
concurred with" the time and place, to engage the at 
tention, and excite the impatience of all men for the 
event. 

But now, when full expectation on the one side, 
and continued alarms on the other, had set the world 
at gaze, the project suddenly disappeared. It was as 
it had never been ; and the temple once more pre 
sented itself in its old ruins ; but with a worse face, 
of horror and desolation. A surprising issue of so 
much determined power, and immense preparation! 

A world, thus attentive and concerned, could not 
but be desirous of knowing the cause of so sudden a 
change of measures, if it were a change of measures, 
that influenced the event. Did the emperor relent? 
Did his agents fail in their obedience? or were the 
Jews, on better thoughts, become resigned to their 
visitation ? Was the purpose diverted by a foreign in 
vasion, or by domestic troubles ? Did some hostile 
Barbarian, at that juncture, break in upon the empire; 
or some rebellious province suspend and weaken its 
authority? Or, lastly, did the Christians themselves 
defeat the insult, by opposing force to force ? One or 

* Cyrillus, post Maximum confessorem, Jerosolymis habebatur 
cpiscopus. Apertis igitur fundamentis, calces caementaque ad* 
ta: nihil oinnino dcerat, quin die postera, vetcribus detur- 
butis, nova jacercnt fundamenta; cum tamen episcopus, diligenti 
cousideratione habita, vel ex bis quoe in Danielis proplietia d 
ternporibus legerat, vel quod in evangeliis dominus prxdixerat, 
persisteret nullo genere fieri posse ut ibi a Judaeis lapis super la- 
pidem poneetur. Res e.rat in expcctatione. Rufini Hist. Eccl. 
i. x. c. 37, &c. 

other 



g2 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I. 

other of these causes must be given, to account for 
the defeat in a common way : and yet the astonished 
inquirer perceived that none of these had any thing to 
do in it. The emperor s hatred to our holy faith 
kept increasing to his death : Alypius s fidelity to his . 
master, and zeal for the old superstition, were with 
out bounds ; and the mad insolence of the Jews proved 
them ready to storm heaven itself to get into their 
old quarters. The empire, in all other parts, was at 
peace ; and the only enemies it had, in these, were 
the Persians ; who were too much alarmed by Julian s 
preparations, and too much taken up in putting their 
own frontiers in a condition of defence, to think of 
farther provoking him by new inroads into the empire. 
What then would be the state of men s minds on 
this posture of affairs ? Those who were at a distance 
would, in their loss for a natural cause, be attentive 
to what was told them of a miracle *. And those who 
were on the place would want no means of convincing 
them. For nothing was equivocal. The directors, 
the overseers, and the chief agents in this attempt, 
were all scattered and dispersed ; and, surely, by no 
panic terror. An earthquake, that let loose a sub 
terraneous fire, joined to a heaven all in flames, tore 
in sunder the foundations, destroyed the workmen, 
and burnt up and consumed the materials. Effects, 
which were all the objects of sense, and, what is 
more, remained so for a long time after. For many 
of those who survived their fellows, bore about them 
the lasting marks of their punishment : and, another 
religious revolution coming on, the site of the temple 
was suffered to retain that face of ravage and com- 

* ^>7fO) 7Ti TM T97TOV %"/ Ttf> VOffU tyovISi SoCiat. UlSt. Ecd. 

1. ili. c. 20. 

bustion, 



Chap. V.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 93 

bustion, which the escape of pent-up fires always 
leave behind them *. 

In this account then all parties must agree. And, 
by what remains of antiquity, it appears they did so : 
A consent, not procured in the way whereby false 
reports of the like kind have sometimes procured it. 
For this was no trifling event, laid in a remote corner, 
seen but by a few prejudiced relators, and accom 
panied only with ambiguous circumstances : In which 
case, partly from contempt of a thing incredible, 
partly from neglect of a thing uninteresting, but prin 
cipally from an indolence that shuns the trouble of 
examining, many a monkish tale hath made its fortune. 
But here, had the fact been groundless, or the event 
different, their falsehood must have been known to 
thousands : and what was so easy to be disproved, 
the interests of thousands would have exposed. Had 
the circumstances been ambiguous, they could not 
have passed uncontroverted : for This was not of the 
nature of the miracle said to be procured by the 
prayers of the thundering legion, which only gave 
testimony to the power of Christ, a matter about 
which Paganism was very indifferent : This went to 
the quick, and exposed the impotence and falsehood 
of their idols, a charge which always put the Gentiles 
out of temper. But if they were so cold in the cause 
of superstition as to need a spur to vindicate its ho 
nour, This they had likewise in the triumphs and 
exultations of the Christian ministers ; who, in their 
sermons, their apologies, their histories, addressed 
both to friends and enemies, relate the event in all its 

K.O.I t/vv lav cXQij; EK Iff-ocl^i fj.iic, yipva. &4 /t T <* Sfju/^ta* XO.K T*/* 
tioi M >J raimjv uxtio-ttq. t rura puflvfss fyxiTj 

no Chrys. udver. 



Judges, Orat. v. 

circumstances ; 



9t OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT, & c . [Book I. 

circumstances ; call upon the numerous eye-witnesses 
to attest the truth ; appeal to the standing marks of 
the fact, the traces of a dreadful exterminating fire 
over all the place, and on many of the persons con 
cerned ; and, lastly, defy the advocates of idolatry to 
gainsay the exactness of their relation. 

Such is the illustrious miracle we have here at 
tempted to defend. We have examined it on the 
severest rules of rational assent. And we find it 
established on that full concurrence of happy circum 
stances which, we might expect, should attend a 
miracle so singular in its nature, and so important 
and decisive in its use. 

But there is one circumstance almost peculiar to it, 
and, as it crowns all the rest, will deserve our most 
serious regard. It is this, that the attempt and the 
issue are so interwoven with one another, that they 
must stand or fall together. For whoever allows that 
Julian began to rebuild the temple, which he could 
not finish, must confess the obstruction came from 
above, because no human impediment interfered. And 
whoever denies the obstruction must deny the attempt, 
because if there were no obstruction of that kind, 
there was none at all : and if there were none at all, 
then there was nothing to be obstructed. That is, 
Julian never attempted to rebuild the Temple ; an in 
ference so furiously sceptical, as would overturn the 
xvhole body of civil history. 



A 

DISCOURSE 

ON THE ATTEMPT OF THE EMPEROR 

JULIAN 

TO REBUILD THE 

TEMPLE OF JERUSALEM. 



BOOK II. 

HAVING now so well established the MIRACLE, 
we have little need to inquire into the objections 
that may be made to it, any further than as we may 
be led by our own curiosity, or inclined to gratify the 
curiosity of others, in seeing how far the capricious* 
ness of wanton wit can go in its frolics towards per 
plexing the plainest and most evident of useful truths. 



CHAP. I. 

FIRST then it may be objected, "That the credit 
of the miracle rests entirely on the truth of this 
supposition, That the holy oracles of God have de 
clared, that /he Jewish Temple should never be. re 
built : For if this were not predicted, the restoration 
of it did not impeach the divine veracity; nor, con 
sequently, was its honour concerned in frustrating the 

attempt. 



96 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

attempt. Now the word of God no where says that 
the Jewish Temple should never be rebuilt; on the 
contrary, it insinuates tnat it should. It predicts, in 
general terms, the total, but notjmal destruction of 
the Temple ; and, in express words, says, That Je 
rusalem shall be trodden down of the Gentiles UNTIL 
the times of the Gentiles be fulfilled. Which imply 
there was to be a period to the desolation, though the 
time be so obscurely marked as to make the fixing it 
uncertain." 

The objection is plausible, and well deserves a so 
lution. On which account (the method of the Dis 
course concurring) it was thought proper to obviate 
it in the very entrance on this argument : where it is 
shewn, from the nature of the Jewish and Christian 
religions, that the total destruction, mentioned in the 
Prophecies, necessarily implied ajinal one : For that, 
in the order of God s dispensations, the Jewish and 
the Christian Religions could never stand together : 
when This became established, That was to be done 
away. But while the temple remained, Judaism still 
existed : when That was overthrown, the religion fell 
with it ; and consequently must rise again with the 
temple. But as this religion was not to rise while 
Christianity continued, the Temple was never to be 
restored. The consequence of all is, that, if it were 
restored, Christianity could no longer support its pre 
tensions, nor the prophets nor Jesus the truth of their 
predictions. 



CHAP. II. 

SECONDLY, The testimony of Amm. Mar- 
cellinus, decisive as it is, hath been cavilled. It is 

suspected, 



Chap. IT.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 97 

suspected, " That He is no original Evidence ; but 
hath taken the account, he gives us of what then passed 
at Jerusalem, from the Christian writ rs : the work in 
tvhich we find it being composed near twenty years 
after the event, when the fathers had turned what 
th re was of the natural fact into a miracle; and, by 
their declamatory eloquence, had made it famous 
throughout the now believing empire." 

This objection abounds with absurdities : but it is 
not of my invention. 

It supposes Marcellmus to have taken his account 
from the Christian writers, because theie were no 
other to be had : for if there were other, then the 
Historian s authority does not rest on their testimony ; 
or, if it does, it rests on a good foundation, the evi 
dence of Christian writers, supported by the Pagan. 
But is it likely that an unbeliever, a man of sense, 
and a lover of truth, should so confide in those of 
the new persuasion, speaking in their own cause, and 
unsupported by other evidence, as to deliver a itct, 
in terms of absolute certainty : which discredited a re- 
lijon he reverenced, and a master he idolized ? Could 
ve, under these circumstances, suppose him capable 
of preserving the memory of so unsupported a story, 
we should at least look to find it delivered in such 
terms of doubt and suspicion as he must needs think 
were justly due unto it 

But the Objector * seems to have attended as little 
to the situation and circumstances, us to the character 
of the Historian. When this event happened at Jeru 
salem, Ammianus was not in winter-quarters alar off 
in (jdui or Germany ; but near at hand, in the em 
peror s court at.Antioch, and in an office <-f distinction* 
The objector, I suppose, will allow that Julian made 

* Lr. S. 

VOL. VIII. II the 



98 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book IL 

the attempt. The attempt, I have shewn, was in its 
nature, such as must draw the attention of the whole 
empire upon it. Ammianus represents it as one of 
the most considerable enterprises of his master s reign ; 
and that it was projected to perpetuate his memory. 
It miscarried. And is it possible the cause of the 
miscarriage could, at that time, be more a secret to 
him than the undertaking ? Yet, if we believe the ob 
jector, the first news he heard of it was from the 
Christian Priests. Be it so. I ask no more, to shew 
the objection devoid of all common sense. A courtier 
of credit, a curious observer of what passed about him, 
hears nothing of what happened in his neighbourhood, 
at the time it did happen, though in an affair that 
engaged all men s attention. Many years after, in 
hunting for materials to compose his history, he starts 
this story. And where, I pray, does he find it ! Why 
truly, skulking in the cover of a thorny and perplext 
invective, or flaunting amongst the meretricious orna 
ments, and on the authority, of loose and prejudiced 
declaimers, records it, in his Annals, as a fact un 
questionable. Not, as was said, to derive credit to 
his master or his religion, but to entail eternal disho 
nour upon both : and all this without giving either of 
them the least relief ; as was easy 11> be done by only 
tellincr from whom he had his story. 

In a word, we see, the objection arises out of this 
circumstance, The distance of time between the fact 
and the historians account of it. But such a circum 
stance can never support a conclusion of this nature, 
but in the case \vhere a writer, who had an occasion 
to record a memorable fact at the time it happened, 
omits to do so; and afterwards, at the distance of 
many years, sticks it into his history, without any 
reason given for his preceding silence. .But this was 
23 not 



Chap. II.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 99 

not the case here: Arnm. Mnrcellinus tells the story 
as soon as ever he had an opportunity of so do ; n<j ; 
which was when he retired from business to write his 
tory. And the distance between that and the event 
is so far from taking fro n the credit of his relation, 
that, as was observed, it adds greatly to it. 

For we cannot but conclude, that as a soldier and 
man of business, he kept a journal of everv tiling that 
passed ; though we should not suppose, wh -t is equally 
probable, that as a lover of letters he had very early 
formed his design of writing history. In what, there 
fore, concerned the transactions of those times, he 
had a sure and easy way of coming to the truth ; 
which was by comparing his own diary with the later, 
and better digested, accounts of others But indeed 
the nature of the fact, and the quality of the writer, 
shew us, there was little danger of mistake An au 
thentic accuunt of this whole matter was doubtless 
amongst the papers of state ; to all which our historian 
had free access. And if we should suppose his rela 
tion to be no other than a faithful abstract of Alypius s 
letter to Julian, we should not, I believe, be a great 
way from the truth. It is certain, that a prudent 
historian, circumstanced as Marcellinus then was, 
could not have acted a wiser part than to relate so 
nice an adventure in the very words of the person, to 
whose conduct it was committed : for in so doing, he 
found himself in that rare situation of adherence 
strictly to truth, without offending either of the parties 
who then strove for the possession of it. We may 
further observe, that this supposition clears up another 
objection which has been made to his narrative. For, 

Thirdly, we are told, " that the testimony of Mar- 
celliuus does but half our business : tor though he 

H 2 gives 



loo OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

gives a circumstantial relation of the fact, he speaks 
of it as a natural, not a miraculous , event. 

The former objection, we see, supposes he had 
gone too far ; This, that he hath not gone far enough. 
And yet I cannot understand how a professed Pagan 
could have said more, in conscience. This objector, 
sure, is not so unreasonable to expect, he should 
have recorded the triumphs of the Gospel over his 
own religion, in the words of the Christian writers, 
Because the other Objector had taken it into his head 
that he was beholden to them for his account of the 
story. 

Thus far we may be certain : Had Arnrnianus 
thought it an artifice or imposture, he would have con 
trived to tell us so. For what should hinder him ? 
Not any regard to the leaders of the Christian sect, 
upon whom the scandal would have fallen; for he is 
not backward, on every occasion, to expose their 
follies and perversities. On the other hand, the 
general character of Paganism made him very easy 
not to form any distinct judgment about the matter. 
Had he /had any such inclination, he was fairly in 
vited to it by what he found (and therefore honestly 
related) of the obstinacy of the eruption, resolutely 
bent to drive them to a distance *. 

After all, a faithful historian, thus circumstanced, 
must be sufficiently distressed. 

But Ainmianus s skill was great, like his honesty; 
and he found a way to disengage himself with honour. 
Other considerations apart, the fact was too notorious 

to be smothered, and too important to be passed 

i 

* Hocque modo elemento destinalius repellente, cessavit in- 
ceptum, 

over: 



Chap. II.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 101 

over: at the same time, the mention of it was nice 
and delicate ; it was like walking over those burning 
ruins while yet hot with the breath of the avenger. 
Two things, in it, equally required management, the 
motive to the attempt ; and the nature of the deficit : 
the one affected the glory of his master ; the other, 
the interests of his religion. See, now, his address, 
and how artfully he has come off! Julian gave diffe 
rent reasons for his project, as best suited the views 
he had on those to whom he told it. To the Jews he 
aifected compassion for their sufferings, and reverence 
for their holy rites : To his Priests and Sophists, we 
may be confident, he revealed his secret purpose to 
be the disgrace and ruin of revelation * : And to his 
courtiers and military men he pretended, what was 
most to their humour, the fame and glory of the en 
terprise. Though Amtnianus was certainly no dupe 
to his professions, yet he found it convenient, and he 
thought it fair, to convey that motive to posterity, 
which Julian had given to his corps. The defeat was 
next to be considered. To own the miracle, would 
be condemning his Religion] explicitly to deny it, 
would be violating his Honour. He avoided this di 
lemma, by employing the words of the original Re- 
lator : and when we see, in his account, the very lan 
guage of a narrative of , State, we can no more doubt 
that he did employ them, than that Alypius himself 
sent his master a relation of the whole affair. 

But if the necessity of saying so much distressed 
his Principles, the necessity of saying no more crampt 
his Genius^ which was bold and swelling ; and prompt, 
on these occasions, to pour along the torrent of his 
eloquence. Hear how pompously he describes an 

* See the note in p. 91. 

H 3 earthquake 



1 02 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

earthquake at Nico^nedia. " Eminuere Nicomediae 
clades " But ttie reader will find the rest below*. 

He professes, we see, to tell his story briefly and 
truly: And 1 believe he did so. Yet his brevity 
does not hinder him from specifying the very day, nay 
even the hour vihen l this or that circumstance was 
remarked : nor his truth from giving us as minute a 
description of the various kinds of deaths as at a 
battle in Homer. How different is this from his rela 
tion of the event at Jerusalem ! There he does not so 

* _ rujus ru marum eventum we breviterque absolvam. 
" Primo lucis exortu die nuiio hal. Sepfembrium, concreti nubium 
" globi nigrantium, be turn puulo ant cccli speciem confuderunt : 
" et amandato soils spiendorc, nee coritigua vel apposita cerne- 
* bantur: ita oculoium obtutu praestricto, humo mvolutus crassae 
" caliginis squalor msedit. Dein, vclui numine summofalules con- 
" torqucnte manubias, ventosque ab ipsis excnante cardmibus, 
" m ignitudo furentium mcubuit procellarum, et elibi Lteris tragor; 
" haec qu* secuti fyphonet atqut presteres, cum hornfico tremore 
" terrarum, civitatem et suburbana funditus everterunt. Interim 
" clamoribus variis CKcelsa culmin.i resultabant, qucrritantium 
" conjiigium liberosquc, et si quid necessitudmis arte constringit. 
" Post horarn demyue tecundam, mvlto ante tertiam, aer jam sudus 
" et liquidus latentes letexit funereas strages. Non-nvlli enim 
" supenuentium rudeium vi mmia const ipata sub ipsis interiere 
" ponderibus. Q-.idam collo tenus aggenbus obrut., cum su- 
* peresse possent si qui juvissent, auxiliorum inopia necabantur. 
" Alii l.^norum extantium acuminibus fixi peudebant. Urio ictu 
" ceesi comphrcs paullo ante honrnes, tune promisruae strages 
" cad .veium cernebantur. Quosdani domorum inclinata fastigia 
" intrintecus ferebant mtactos, angore et media consumendos. 
" Alii subita ruinee magnitudine opp,essi iisdem adhuc mollibus 
" conteguntur. Collisis qitidam capitibus, vel humeris pinefectis 
" autciunbus, inter vitae mort sque confinia, aliorum adjumenta 
41 paria perferentium implorantts cum obtestatione ruagna desere- 
" bantur " 

f lie is alike circumstantial in dating that other dreadful com 
motion which happened in tbe first consulate of Valentinian and 
his brother " diem duodecimum Kal. Augustas, Consule Valen- 
" tiniano primum cuui fr atre, horrendi terrores," <^c. 1. xxvi. c. iu. 

much 



Chap. II.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 103 

much as inform us of the month in which it happened; 
we should even .have been at a loss for the year, but 
that the Persian expedition directs us, to which the 
form of his annals hath connected it. And so far is 
he from dwelling upon the slaughter that followed, 
the too certain consequence of eruptions of this nature, 
that, had it not been for the Christian writers, we 
might have suspected his horrible balls ofjire * had 
contained little more than a lambent flame, for any 
mischief that followed. 

Again, he is not content to relate the Nicomedian 
earthquake, and expatiate only on its effects: he 
is as particular in describing both the prognostics that 
preceded it (such as the firmament overcast, and the 
day darkened with storms and tempests), and the 
symptoms that attended it (such as the lightning and 
whirlwind). While, on the other hand, his account 
of the disaster in Jerusalem is stript of all these 
circumstances of terror; though they be the constant 
forerunners and attendants of fiery eruptions ; and, 
if we may believe the Christian writers, did actually 
precede and accompany this : nor have we any reason 
to disbelieve them, because they speak (as we shall 
see) of certain phenomena, the natural effects of the 
disordered elements, which they erroneously ascribe 
to a different cause. 

But this is not all : Ammianus, to give us the most 
fearful idea of this desolation at Nicomedia, says, the 
conflict of nature was such, as if the God of Nature 
himself, armed with all the stores of heaven, was 
hurling his lightning over a perishing world. But 
we find not a line of this imagery in the affair at 
Jerusalem. The Deity is there kept out of sight; 
though the repeated eruptions, which, he says, seemed 

* Metuendi globi flammarmn. 

H 4 obstinately 



104 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II, 

obstinately and resolutely bent to drive the workmen 
to a distance, drove him to the confines of superior 
agency. Bit he was un\\ iiling, and for a good reason, 
to call his readers after him. 

What could occasion a conduct so different in a 
case so similar? Had he related the one as a noted 
fact, and the other but as an uncertain rumour, 
something mi^ht he pretended, But this makes the 
difficulty, he teils them both as facts, and facts of 
equal notoriety and truth. A difficulty nothing can 
solve but what we have already shewn to be the case, 
the bashfulness of a backward evidence. 

In this light we see, that his relating the eruption 
of Jerusalem as a natural event, takes nothing from 
the reality of the divine interposition. When a Pagan 
bears testimony to a fact of. this importance, we 
may be as sure it is a miracle as, when a Papist bears 
testimony to a miracle of no importance at all, we 
are sure it is a trick. 

But his reserve is so far from depriving us of the 
benefit of his testimony, that it is that which supports 
it. Had we found a Pagan speaking like a Christian 
Father on this occasion, his evidence had soon be 
come as suspected as that of the Jewish historian, 
where he speaks of Christ ; which one of the ablest 
and most candid of his critics has fairly condemned 
for an imposture; and another equally respectable, 
\vho would fain bolster up its credit, frankly owns, 
could never come from him in the condition it is 
brought down to us. This miracle, without question, 
embarrassed Marcellinus no less than the WORKER 
of miracles distressed the other Historian : whose 
case the excellent W riter, just now mentioned, has 
well described. But had posterity made equally free 
with both, I should have despaired of disengaging 

my 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 105 

my Author with the address and abilities he has 
served Josephus *. 

In a word, all we want of our adversaries is to 
have the fact acknowledged as Ammianus relates it. 
Its nature depends neither on his, nor on their, nor 
on our opinion of the nntter, but on the nature of 
things. We think, indeed, that it speaks itself. 
But, for the sake of those who think otherwise, 
I propose, in the course of this examination, to shew, 
that it was an effect, which no power but thdt of 
the moral Governor of the universe was able to 
produce. 

1 proceed, then, in my subject; to which these 
cavils are only tiie pi-elude. 



CHAP. III. 

THE next objection to the fact arises from what, 
one would have hoped, should have been the chief 

Support Of it, THK TESTIMONY OF THE FATHERS. 

But their credit amongst fashionable letters is now 
so low, that if they do not dishonour the cause 
they appear in, it is all we are to expect from them. 
For, as a late writer | graciously allows us to believe 
every strange thing except a MIRACLE, so, to say 
the truth, we are apt enough to credit every strange 
relator of antiquity, so he be not a FATUKU. And 
yet, it is very certain, the fathers were, at worst, 

* See Mr. Foister s Discourse, intitled, "A Dissertation 
upon the accou t supposed t> have been given of Jesus Christ 
by Josephus, kc. Oxon. MDCCXLIX." 

f In a book, iu .i leii, " Philosophical Essays concerning 
Human Understanding," printed 1748, p. 199. 

no 



io6 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

no more prejudiced in favour of Religion, than their 
Pagan neighbours were prejudiced against it. And 
whether these were philosophers, sophists, or states 
men, if we read their works, we shall find that 
very credulity, prejudice, false reasoning, and ill 
faith, which these objectors pretend has been dis 
covered in some of the most celebrated of the 
fathers. 

But what is it They have done, in the point in 
question, which proves so injurious to their own 
cause? "Why, it seems, they differ greatly from 
Ammianus, in their relation of this extraordinary 
fact ; by adding many circumstances to his ; some of 
which are utterly incredible." 

Whether it were the Fathers, or their Cause, which 
render their accounts incredible, will be seen in due 
time. At present let me observe, it greatly eases 
their defence, that it cannot be fairly pretended, that 
the Christian writers contradict the relation of Ammi 
anus, in aiiy the least particular. 

In the Second place, What I said before, of Mar- 
cellinus s substractions, I here repeat of the Fathers* 
additions ; that they are so far from invalidating the 
fact, that they add greatly to its support. We have 
shewn Marcellinus to be an unwilling Evidence, who 
hath cautiously avoided saying more than was just 
necessary to save harmless his character of a faithful 
historian. It was natural then to expect he had 
studiously omitted such circumstances as made most 
for the honour of that cause to which he was neither 
a friend nor favourer. 

Thirdly, Admitting it was as is pretended, that 
incredible things are to be found in their relations : 
this circumstance will scarce be deemed sufficient 

to 



Chap. II.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 107 

to overthrow a well -attested fact, by any who con 
sider that such as are hest established have never 
been exempt from these injurious pollutions. The 
miracles of Christ and his apostles have not escaped 
the adulterations of heretics. And if this were suf 
ficient to discredit truth, there is not a fact in cml 
history that would stand its ground . As to those 
who expect a certain innate virtue in Truth, of force 
to extrude all heterogeneous mixture, they expect 
a qualitv which was never yet found in it, nor, I fear, 
ever will. Nay, the more notorious a fact of this 
kind is, that is to say, the more eye-witnesses there 
are of it, the more subject it is to undesigned de 
pravation ; as there must be, amongst a large cloud 
of evidence, some men of heated fancies : and the 
greater the communication, and the frequenter the 
collision, of these warm heads, the more active and 
inflamed will be the creative faculty of the mind; 
which, in that state, we find, has always been 
the seminary of false circumstances of the prodi 
gious kind. 

But we should grant a great deal too much in 
allowing this to be the case here. Providence did 
not do its work by halves ; nor was penurious in 
the grace so seasonably bestowed upon the suffering 
church. For, what, we have shewn, was performed 
in the sight of all men, we shall see, was faithfully 
commemorated by the most celebrated preachers and 
apologists of that age ; and as soberly and carefully 
recorded by the best historians of the follcAvhtg. And 
if, travelling downwards in a blind and heavy road, 
it contracted some stains of the soil through which 
it passed, it was never so disfigured as to have those 
dirty features mistaken for its natural countenance, 
by any the least attentive observer. 

The 



i o8 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

The Christian Evidence for the fact are GREGORY 
NAZIANZEN, AMBROSE, and CHRYSOSTOM. These 
lived at the time it happened. The next age pro 
duced RUFINUS, SOCRATKS, SOZOMEN, and THEO 
DORE T, whose testimony is perfectly consistent one 
with the other. In the last place are PHIJLOSTORGIUS, 
THEOPHANES, OROSIUS, NICEPHORUS, ZONARAS, 
and CEDRENUS, who, although distant and different 
in age, are so near allied in judgment, that they 
are here put together; not to add credit to the cause 
they serve ; but, by separating them from their several 
contemporaries of a better paste and compound, to 
bear alone the shame of their proper folly or 
prevarication. 

The original evidence, as we said, are Ambrose, 
Chrysostom, and Gregory Naziaiizen. Of these, ! 
Ambrose lived far in the West; and having, as 
may be supposed, received only a general relation of 
the fact, he delivers it as generally. Have you not 
heard (says he, writing to the emperor Theodosius) 
how when Julian gave command to rebuild the temple 
of Jerusalem, the workmen were destroyed by a FIRE 
sent from God*? 

In 

* This is an epistle to the Emperor?* written on a very 
singular occasion A certain bishop had excited his flock to 
burn a Jewish synagogae : which being complained of to Theodo 
sius, he ordered the offenders to b punished ; and that the bishop 
should rebuild it at his own expence. The impiety of this 
sentence was so offensive to Ambrose, that, having reminded the 
Emperor of the fate of the Jewish Temple, he asks him, whether 
he does not expect the same dishonours should attend his 
command, which followed the attempt of Julian. " Non audisti, 
* Imperator, quia cum jussisset Julianus reparari Templum 
" Hierosolymis, quod divino qui faciebant repagulum igne fla- 
tl grarunt? Non caves ne etiam nunc faciat ? Adeo a te non 
" fuit jubendum ut Julianus hoc jusserit," Ep. xl. It was well 

this 



Chap.III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 109 

In which may be discerned the different fortune 
that naturally attends truth and falsehood. A fable, 
the further it goes, the more it gathers : for, like all 
untimely productions, coming out, at first, rude and 
unformed, it leaves room for charitable invention to 
give it shape ; which, by general contribution, soon 
raises it to a bulk that looks considerable. Whereas 
the circumstances of a true story drop off, one after 
another, as it advances in its progress, till it becomes 
stript, and contracted to its essence: for there being 
precision in the testimony of the evidence, and con 
viction in the nature of the fact, men, on its first 
appearance, are less solicitous, as they have less 
need, to support it by its circumstances, than to 
convey it by its essentials. 

Chrysostom, indeed, was in the neighbourhood of 
the place. But, speaking to an audience as well 
instructed in the affair as himself, though he had 
frequent occasion to put them in mind of so dis 
tinguishing 

this miracle was performed by God, to do honour to himself: 
Had it been to do honour to the bishops of his church, we see 
how little they deserved it ! Here is one who violates the 
civil peace, and invades the religious rights of his neighbour; 
and another who supports him in so doing, on the authority of 
the miracle at Jerusalem. In which tliey either foully pre 
varicate j or grossly mistake the purpose of God s interposition. 
They represent it as intended for an example to the magistrate 
to restrain the Jews from all excercise 01 their superstition; 
when it was evidently for no other purpose than to support the 
truth of the divine predictions concerning the ruin of a certain 
temple. Theodosius was to expect the fate of Julian. Arid 
why ? Because he was supporting those very rights of nature 
which Julian then riolaffd: For the attempt to rebuild the 
temple was but one of the many arts he employed to extirpate 
the Christian Faith by violence. But it has always been the 
trick, and has often proved the defeat, of Intolerance, to place 
their miserable Principle on such foundations as are found most 
of all to discredit it. 



no OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

tinguishing a mercy, yet always dwells in generals; 
just as he would have done in referring to the cruci 
fixion, or to any other the most known incident in 
the Gospel. Thus, in his Discourse against the Jews 
and Gentiles, speaking of the desolate condition of 
the temple, he says " For in our times that monarch, 
" who exceeded all men in his malice to our holy 
" faith, both lent the aid of the Imperial authority, 
Cf and became an associate in the design. They 
" began the work, but could make no progress; 
<e for a FIRE, bursting from the foundations, drove 
<f away, and dispersed all concerned in the under- 
" taking*." 

The only contemporary father, therefore, from 
whom we can expect a detailed history of the event, 
is Gregory Nazianzen. For he, not living at a dis 
tance, like Ambrose ; nor preaching, like Chrysostom, 
to those who knew every circumstance, but residing 
in these quarters, and writing in defence of our holy 
faith, against Julian, in an appeal to the Roman 
Empire, was both qualified by his knowledge, and 
called upon by the nature of his performance, to be 
particular in his relation of the fact. 

Now, as his account must undergo a severe scru 
tiny, it will be but fair to give it in his own words. 
Speaking then of Julian, he says, 

" After having run through a course of every 
" other tyrannical experiment against the Faith, and, 
" upon trial, despising all of them as trifling and 
contemptible, he, at last, brought down the whole 
" body ot the Jews upon us ; whom, for their ancient 

* x^ yap tiri TJ?? yma? Tj? i /*/) e ^a? o <eeaivlaq tlf uciGtia.? 
tv ij-uo-iav TOTS <rfmvra|e, x^ rS s^yx /jij/a^o f 
i^t ^6y>(7ax, aXXa 7v O,TTO -rut Septfauy 

vroK *7r^Acrjr. Adversus Judseos et Gentiles, 
torn. i. 

(t turn 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. in 

" turn to seditious novelties, and an inveterate hatred 
" of the Christian name, he chose as the fittest 
" instruments of his machinations. These, under a 
" shew of great good will, which hid his secret pur- 
" pose, he endeavoured to convince, from their sacred 
" books and traditions, which he took upon him 
" to interpret*, that now was come the time fore- 
" told, when they should return to their own Land, 
" rebuild their temple, and restore the law to its 
" ancient force and splendor. When these things 
" had been thoroughly insinuated, and heartily en- 
" tertained (for deceit finds easy admittance when it 
" flatters our passions), the Jews set upon the work 
" of rebuilding with great attention, and pushed on 
" the project with the utmost labour and application. 
" But when now driven from their work by a violent 
" whirlwind and a sudden earthquake, they fled tb- 
" gether for refuge to a certain neighbouring church 
" (some to deprecate the impending mischief; others, 
" as is natural in such cases, to catch at any help 
" that presents itself; and others, again, inveloped 
" in the crowd, were carried along with the body 
" of flyers) : there are who say, the church refused 
" them entrance; and that when they came to the 
" doors, which were wide open but a moment be- 
<c fore, they found them, on a sudden, closed by 
" a secret and invisible hand ; a hand accustomed 
" to work these wonders for the terror and confusion 
" of the impious, and for the security and comfort 
" of godly men. This however is now invariably 
" affirmed and believed by all, That as they strove 
" to force their way in by violence, the FIRE, 
" which burst from the foundations of the temple, 

* I think Gregory uses the word tTrAini^nv ironically, in the 
sense of pretending to interpret with a prophetic spirit, 

" met 



112 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

c * met nnd stopt them, and one part it burnt and 

* destroyed; and another it desperately maimed, 

c leaving them a Iwiug monument of God s commi- 

* nation and wrath against sinners. Thus the affair 

passed ; and let no man continue incredulous cou- 

<f cerning this, or the other miraculous works of God. 

" But still the thing most wonderful and illustrious 

" was a light, wmVh appeared in the heavens, of 

" a Cross within a Circle. That name and figure, 

which impious men before esteemed so dishonour- 

" able upon earth, was now raised on high, and 

" equally objected to the common view of all men ; 

" advanced by God himself, as the trophy of his 

ic victory over unbelievers ; of all trophies the most 

" exalted and sublime. Nay further, they who were 

" present, and partakers of the miracle we are now 

" about to speak of, shew, to this very day, the 

" sign or figure of the cross which was then marked 

" or impressed upon their garments. For, at that 

" time, as these men (whether such as were of us, 

" or strangers) were shewing these marks, or at- 

" tending to others who shewed them, each presently 

" observed the wonder, either on himself or his 

" neighbour : having a radiant mark on his body or 

" on his garment: in which there was something 

" that, in art and elegance, exceeded ail painting 

" or embroidery *." 

This 



sTTEi arava ieA<y TaAAav, x era* e TXI? 
i^^, uq fjux^ov Tt x^ a,ymvt<; ar/>u*c7af reX^* ITTCK^^KE x^ T 
fyvXw yfAiv, TY)V waXatav TE uvruv xtf^ortjla: xj TO y.a$ YI^VV 
ov iv a.vTo7$ pXa& Qvvt^yoi Xatw* TV Ti^vu.a ^u\^y 
TI ^?6iv EX run taa,^ ayToK /3*<oAw> xj awo^^nTwr, &>? vvv a,vroTq 
tin xalsXOirv elq T>JV eot,vlv>, xj rov veuv aa^ti//acrOat, xj TU* 
tuv TO KeuT &* uvoc.viuffuO Qou, x^ a7roxpy7r)o/>nv@^ evvoiot,; ccrAa^/MoIi T*?f 
, ITTE* o^e Tayra xj ^Hk^O^, x) iirna-tv- tvy.ohcv yot, EJ? avrarr* 1 TO 

TO 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 113 

This is the only contemporary writer amongst the 
Christians who delivers the account of the miracle 
differently from Ammianus Marcellinus, that is, with 
additional circumstances. Let us see then what handle 
he hath given to the objector. 

But before we come to examine what he really 
affirms, and takes upon his credit to support; it will 
be proper to set in a true light what he is only supposed 
to affirm, and what he does not undertake to warrant. 

He tells us, it was reported, that those who fled 
for refuge to an adjoining church, whose doors were 
wide open but a moment before, found them suddenly 
closed by an invisible power. ~ And, without question, 
They who could not then get in, did believe the impedi 
ment to be miraculous. They did not consider, that a 
frighted crowd, all pressing to be foremost, would soon 

choke 



ETTI 

\v TO*{ TfltwTot? i voctmiv ru 



, uq e TO tpov avraq 
Ta?? 

IK TU@* KogaTU x} a^avas ^>a/xWj, ^ r 
V TUV uffiGuv ttoAtiirhyZiv, t Tut svo-tS 



K^ vaAw<7y T? ^t TWV xcttpiuv a 

T?; T -^ea xaTa TWV afACtgruhuv uTTtthyi; x^ xi^<r<yf. TBTO 



TOTJ 

*To Tt? [itr ar 

^a to-ap* lat;!^, ^ TW -BrXjjcrot> 



i* TtfTtf T 7<I. Olftt, IV, adv. Jul,, 

VOL. VIII, I 



i M JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

choke up a wider passage than the door of a little 
oratory, like this where they sought for refuge, had 
the doors been still open. But he tells us they were 
suddenly closed: and, if they opened outward, the 
power that shut them could be only invisible to a 
blind crowd, half frighted out of their wits. And, 
indeed, Gregory himself intimates, in the following 
words (where he speaks of the fiery eruption) that this 
was riot the general opinion ; and particularly not his 
own ; for he insinuates what he deemed to be the true 
cause of the impediment, in telling us they strove to 
force their way in by violence. But (adds he) that 
which followed, namely, the eruption, is now invari 
ably affirmed and believed by all. As much as to say, 
time and cool examination, which corrected the first 
reports, have left the miraculous circumstance of the 
impediment doubtful ; but have put that of the eruption 
out of all question. 

This being premised, we come to the circumstances 
additional to the account of Marcellinus. Gregory 
mentions three : I . A whirlwind and earthquake. 2. The 
light which appeared in the heavens of a cross within 
a circle ; and, 3. The figure of a cross on the bodies 
and garments of the workmen and assistants. These, 
indeed, Gregory delivers as unquestioned facts, doubted 
or contradrcted by none : and of so trite and frequent 
mention in the divines and historians of this time, that 
it is. observable he tells the main fact, thcfary eruption, 
not directly or absolutely, but only obliquely and occa 
sionally, for the sake of a circumstance not so generally 
known. Of all these, therefore, it will be incumbent 
on us to give some good account. I shall try them on 
the test of Ammianus s relation, as that is made (though 
only for this purpose) the standard of the truth ; and 
doubt not but they will be all found very credible, not 
withstanding 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 115 

withstanding their different degrees of evidence; the 
first, the whirlwind and earthquake, being necessarily 
connected with the eruption recorded by Ammianus; 
the second, the cross in the heavens, a likely attendant 
on the then unquiet state of the elements : and the 
third, the cross on the garments, very consonant to 
what we know of meteorology. 

1 . First then, as to the earthquake. Natural his 
tory informs us, that fiery eruptions, of which it makes 
frequent mention, are always preceded by an earth 
quake. And, indeed, the obvious nature of the thing 
instructs us, it can hardly be otherwise; the force of 
fire making its way through a heavy load, opposed to 
its explosion, cannot but throw the incumbent earth 
into convulsive struggles, during the agitation. And 
this tumult in the inferior elements must needs com 
municate itself to the adjoining parts of the superior. 
Hence it hath so generally happened, that the disorder 
below has been accompanied with the like above ; such 
as fierce whirlwinds and a troubled sky : this was the 
first signal of the like dreadful conflict in the desolation 
at Nicomedia, as Ammianus himself relates it 
" Concreti nubium globi nigrantium, Icetam paullo 

1 ante cceli speciem confuderunt, ventosque ab ipsis 
" excitante cardinibus," Sec. Thus far, therefore, 
Gregory s account is not only agreeable to the usual 
course of things, in their unquiet state, but the appear 
ances are told in their order ; the whirlwind^ the earth 
quake, and the //;*. 

2. The light which was seen in the heavens of a cross 
within a circle, is the second thing we are to speak 
to. Of this kind of phenomenon, the ecclesiastical, 
the civil, and the natural history, both of ancient and 
modern ages, affords us so many instances, that it will 

I 2 give 



no OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

give us very little trouble. Not to keep the Reader in 
suspense, it was neither more nor less than one of those 
meteoric lights, in a still and clouded sky, which are 
not unfrequently seen in solar or lunar halos : And 
when the parhelia, and paraselenes, which sometimes 
attend them, are added to that appearance, we can 
easily conceive how greatly the pomp of them must. he 
increased. To support this account, we may observe, 
that this celestial cross was not seen till the conflict in 
the sky was over : it being the night after the storm, 
and the night after that, as Theodoret * informs us; 
where, by the way, we may observe, this was a lunar 
halo. 

It was the same appearance, from whence (as 
Eusebius and others tell us) Constantine the Great 
-drew the happy presage of an approaching victory : it 
was the same which Cyril of Jerusalem saw over that 
city, in the time of his son Constantius ; to whom the 
good bishop sent the news, and, indeed, endeavoured 
to make the most of it. The historians of the middle 
ages have, at different times, occasionally mentioned 
the like appearances ; and, generally, mentioned them 
as miraculous. Since the revival of learning, the Natu 
ralists and astronomers have taken notice of such as 
happened in their times ; and have attempted to ex 
plain their physical causes. 

But here I find what I had farther to say, on this 
subject, already done to my hands, in a very ingenious 
and learned discourse f of the excellent J. A. Fabricius: 
to which, with much satisfaction, I refer the Reader: 



Tfc apavw rS ffulr)% m rfg TO C^J^MC, p*ffofitffi Eccl. Hist. 1. iii. 
C- 20. 

f Intit. " Exercitatio crilica, qua disputatur, Crucem, quam 
" in ccelis vidisse se juravit Constantinus imp. fuisse phenomenon 
" naturale in halone gotari." Vid. Bib, Grsc. vol. vi. 

For 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 117 

For it is not my way to repeat what others have proved 
before me ; or to defraud them of the praises due to 
their discoveries. 

I will only make one observation. All these mete 
oric crosses are represented as being encompassed by 
a luminous circle. A circumstance, which, if but com 
monly attended to, would have betrayed their original. 
But so far from that, the circle was brought as a con 
vincing argument of their being miraculous. With this, 
Gregory triumphs * over the mathematicians or astro 
logers ; and defies them to account for it by their rules 
of art. Would the reader know the ground of so gross 
a delusion ? It was no more than this, the circle was 
so established an emblem of victory, that, like one of 
Epicurus s Simulacra (the exuvite of bodies, as these 
of minds), they regarded it as the moral phantom that 
proclaimed Julian s defeat. For figure and rhetoric 
had, in most times, but especially in those, been an 
overmatch for reason and science. 

3. But the last circumstance (says the objectors) so 
far exceeds all the common length of credulity, that 
its invention must have put fancy to the stretch, and 
even fraud itself to the blush : and this is, the mark of 
the cross impressed upon the bodies, or garments, of 
the people present. 

As extraordinary as this may seem, I do not despair 
of regaining those whom it hath most revolted. 

But first it will be necessary to call in a writer of 
the next class, and consider his words " When there- 
" fore (says Socrates) a vast number were assembled 
" on the place, another prodigy happened ; for a FIRE 
" FELL FROM HEAVEN, which consumed all the work- 

? TO? KYICAOX tv T-Ts <rg 
NIKH2 o 5T$ANOr. Oral, iv. 

13 



1 18 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

" men s tools*." As this historian is the only writer 
who explicitly f mentions lightning, and its effects ; it 
will be proper to consider its credibility. Under the 
last head we have shewn, how a fiery eruption must 
occasion a previous earthquake ; and this earthquake, 
a stormy sky. But air, put into a violent motion, 
always produces lightning, when it abounds with matter 
susceptible of inflammation. And those columns of 
air, which lie over places that labour with convulsive 
throes to cast out an enkindled matter from its entrails, 
must needs be impregnated with vast quantities of sul 
phureous particles, which the earth, in that condition, 
cxsudes from its pores, and which the solar heat draws 
upwards. But the natural history of these eruptions 
supports this reasoning. And Ammianus, whose evi 
dence we have so often appealed to, gives us an 
example of it in the before cited case of the earthquake 
at Nicomedia, attended, as appears by his account, 
with a fiery eruption, like that at Jerusalem. Now 
this historian tells us, that there, the earthquake was 
preceded by lightning, as well as storms " Concreti 
<f nubium globi nigrantium, Jaetam paullo ante coeli 
" speciem confuderunt Dein velut numine summo 
" fat ales contorqucnte rnanubias ventosque ab ipsis 
c < excitante cardinibus, &c. hzecque secuti typhones 
<: atque pfesteres, cum horrifico tremore tcrrarum 
The same, he affirms of that more dreadful earthquake 
which happened in the first consulate of Valentinian 
and his, brother : " Paulo post lucis exortum, densitate 



av, mciflcc. TO, rwv clxoMptay tgystXtU* diitytosictv. 

Soc. L. iii. c. 20. 

t Philostorgius, by the mode of his expression and by the 
order in which he puts things, seems as if he meant this fiie, in 
the following words ; TTO plv yu.p t rs i^ tTrtv^ilo T? Ipy^cijWSas 
TTO Si, o-tivpos lyjuwviv. Ex. Lib. vii. c. 9. 

" pra3via 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 119 

<c praevia ful^u ruin acrius vibratorum trernefacta con- 
" cutitur oninis terreni stabilitas ponderis*." 

Lightning therefore, we see, is one of the constant 
concomitants in this desolation. 

Now lightning is formed by the ferment and explo 
sion of sulphureous and bituminous exhalations from 
the earth, mixing with nitrous acids in the air. And 
as this mixture, or combination, is variously propor 
tioned, according to the then casual concourse of ele 
mentary particles, so its destructive effects are various. 
Sometimes it hath been known to scorch up the cloaths. 
without penetrating the body ; and, sometimes again, 
to break all the bones without discolouring the flesh or 
cloaths ; nay, even to melt the sword without injuring 
the scabbard. In \hejirst case we must conclude, the 
sulphur predominated ; in the latter, the salts. And 
according to this proportion, the lightning in question 
seems to have been formed. For, they tell us, it 
melted the iron instruments, but hurt neither the cloaths 
nor flesh; on which it affixed a cross, without any 
sensible notice at the time of the impression. For I 
make no scruple to affirm, that this mark was the 
natural effect of lightning, so constituted. 

That lightning falls in regular figures, hath been fre 
quently observed. The most unlikely, one should think, 
is the circular ; and yet, in that, it hath been commonly 
known to fall : the most likely is the angular, (and a 
crow is but two straight lines meeting at right angles); 
yet this, though not very rare, has been less common. 

But, it will be said, " the fathers make it a matter 
of much more importance : and the fantastic things 
they tell of these crosses exclude both nature and sober 
miracle ; and admit of no other cause but fraud or 
fanaticism; even though we should substract from the 
* L. xxvi. c. 10. 

I 4 account 



i-2o OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

account the contradictions that arise from their joint 
testimony. Gregory * and Socrates f say these crosses 
were shining and radiated : but Theodoret J tells us, 
they were not bright and shining, but shaded with a 
dark colour : again, Ilufinus and Socrates affirm, they 
were by no means to be washed out ." 

All this, it must be owned, hath the rank air of in 
ventive prodigy. Yet view it well, and you see nature 
breaking in upon you. In a word, the fathers could 
have said nothing more corroborative of our account ; 
which reduces them to a natural phenomenon : for 
the qualities they give to these crosses, not only shew 
them to be meteoric, but inform us of their very specific 
nature ; which was precisely that of the PHOSPHORUS. 

They shone by night, and were dark, and smokey- 
coloured by day (for thus, the different accounts of 
their appearance, given us by Gregory and Theodoret, 
are plainly to be reconciled, by the testimony of 
Rufinus ||) the very property both of natural and arti 
ficial Phosphori. Of i\\ejirst kind, are insects, rotten- 
wood, shell-fish, tainted flesh **, scales, feathers, of 
certain animals, &c. Of the latter, that solid body, 
in particular, made from urine (for almost all bodies 



t T 

J Qvx. m ptfbf Qulon$uv, aAA* I* piAawi? *t^W*iWC-fur*)| 
L. iii. c. 20. 

Ut etiam. qui diluere pro sui infidelitate voluisset, nullo 
genere valeret abolere. Jluf. - anw*vm xj iro<r^xf iv &Ao*le?, 

tiO&IH TpOTTW V)OVVOtV\0. SOCT. 

|i In sequent! nocte in vestimgntis omnium signaculum crucis 
ita evidens apparuit. Hist. Eccl. 1. x. c. 37. 

* Hossein the son of All, and grandson of Mahomet, was 
killed in aspiring to the throne in the Califate of Yesid. His 
head was cut off and carried by a soldier to the governor of 
Coussah; as it lay on a table, in the night the wife of the soldier 
pretended that a lambent flame played about the head, which 
might very well be. But this by the Partisans of Ali was 
esteemed a great miracle. 

will 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 121 

will afford it) with which, if one writes, as with a 
pencil on paper, the letters, in the night, will appear 
like flame, and, in the day time, present only a dim, 
sniokey suffusion. 

The reader will be further confirmed in this opinion, 
if he considers of what the artificial phosphorus is 
composed ; which is chiefly a fixed salt, obtained by 
a long process by fire ; in the course of which much 
of this element seems to be imbibed : so as to give the 
minute parts of the phosphorus the proper motion and 
agitation to produce light. Now the salts were pre 
dominant in the lightning in question, as appears by 
its violent effects on metals, and its innocuous contact 
with softer bodies, And we can easily conceive how 
that high ferment, by which lightning is formed, may 
produce a natural phosphorus, in the same manner as 
a long process by fire makes the artificial. 

This will account too for the difficulty in washing 
out the marks. Those on the bodies would sooner 
disappear ; those on the habits more slowly. And it 
is observable, that, though Gregory tells us, the curious 
yet produced (when he wrote) the marks on the gar 
ments ; he says nothing of those on the bodies. 

And now, I presume, the candid reader may be 
disposed to abate his wonder, and inclined to give the 
fathers credit for the facts, how much soever they 
might be mistaken in the immediate cause of them : 
and the unbeliever, from the fate of so promising an 
objection, may be taught the use of modesty and diffi 
dence, when he opposes his own reason to the truths 
that establish Revelation. 

But, to put the matter farther out of doubt, I shall 
produce a passage from the Adversaria of the famous 
ISAAC CASAUBON, written while in England, and, as 
his son Meric conjectures (to whom we are indebted 

for 



122 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

for it) about the year 1610-11. It follows in these 
words : " This day the Lord Bishop of Ely *, a prelate 
" of great piety and holiness, related to me a won- 
" derful thing. He said he had received the account 
" from many hands, but chiefly from the Lord Bishop 
" of Wells, lately deadf, who was succeeded by 
" Bishop Montague ; that in the city of Wdls, about 
fifteen years ago J, one summer s day, while the 
" people were at divine service in the cathedral 
" church, they heard, as it thundered, two or three 
" claps above measure dreadful, so that the whole 
* congregation, affected alike, threw themselves on 
" their knees at this terrifying sound. It appeared, 
" the lightning fell at the same time, but without harm 
" to any one. So far, then, there was nothing but 
" what is common in the like cases. The wonderful 
" part was this, which afterw r ards was taken notice of 
" by many, that the marks of a CROSS were found to 
" have been imprinted on the bodies of those who 
" were then at divine service in the cathedral. The 
" Bishop of Weils told my Lord of Ely, that his wife 
t (a woman of uncommon probity) came to him, 
" and informed him, as of a great miracle, that she 
" had then the mark of a cross impressed upon her 
" body. Which tale when the Bishop treated as 

* Doctor Lane. Andrews, afterwards Bishop of Winchester. 

f Dr. John Still. 

t The following note was communicated by a learned friend. 
R. W. 

" Hoc etiam anno [1596], in agro Somersettensi, urbeculas 
" episcopatis, cui a fontibus Velles [Wells] nomen, templum 
4< die domlnico, magna plebis frequentia, fulmine concussum, & 
" ardere visum ; ingenti populi consternatione, planctu & lamen- 
" tatione : flamma undique circumvolitans omnem multitudinem 
* circumplexa est, majore formidine quam damno, quippe vestes 
" & capilli ambusti, intactis corporibus." Rob. Johnston, Rerun) 
Rritanniearum Historia, L. vii. p. 223. 

" absurd. 



Cliap.HI.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 123 

" absurd, his \vife exposed the part, and gave him 
" ocular proof. He afterwards observed, that he had 
" upon himself, on his arm (as I take it) the plainest 
<{ mark of a fa Others had it m the shoulder, the 
" breast, the back, or other parts. This account 
t( that great man, my Lord of Ely, gave me in such 
a manner, as forbade me even to doubt of its 
" truth*." 

Here, then, we h;ive the very same event, happening 
from the same cause, the burst cf lightning. The 
only difference is, that htre the cross appeared upon 
the bodies only : there both on the cloaths and bodies. 
A difference which the more or less subtilty of the 
meteoric matter would occasion. 

The fact, we find, is as well attested as a fact can 
possibly be. A bishop, of the greatest name in his 

* Rem miram mihi narrabat hodic Dom. Episcopus Eliensis, 
sanctae pietatis Antistes. Dicebat se acccpisse a ruultis, sed 
praecipue a Dorn. Episcopo Vellensi nuper mortuo, cm successit 
Dom. Montacutus: evenisse ante annos circiter xv, in urbe Wella, 
give en dicenda, Valla, die quadain oestiva, ut, dum in Ecclesia 
Cathedral! populus sacris vacabat, duo vel tria tonitrua inter plura 
audircntur, supra modum horrenda, ita ut populus universus in 
genua /*i off** procum beret ad ilium sonurn terribilem. Con- 
stitit fulmen simul cecidisse, sine cujusquam damno tamen. Atque 
liaec vulgaria. Jllud admirandum, quod postea est observatum a 
niultis, repcrtas esse crucis imagines impressas corporibus eorum, 
qui in aede sacra tum fuerint. Dicebat Episcopus Vallensis D. 
Kliensi, uxorem suain (bonestissima ea luniiina tint) venisse ad se, 
et ei narrasse pro grandi miraculo sibi in corpore impressa ^J< 
signaextare; quod cum risu cxciperet Episcopus, uxor, nudato 
corpore, ei probavit verum esse quod dixerat. Deinde ipse ob- 
servavit sibi quoque ejusdem ^ manifestissimam imaginem im- 
pi essain esse, in bracbio, opinor : aliis in humero, in pectore, in 
dorso, aut alia corporis parte. Hoc vir inaximus, Dorn. Eliensis, 
ita mihi narrabat, ut vetaret de veritate historic ambigere. Ex. 
Advers. Is. Casaubon. apud Mer. Casaubon. in tract, intit. Of 
Credulity and Incredulity, p. 118. 

time 



124 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

time for virtue and knowledge, receives it from an 
eye- witness, and a party concerned,, a bishop likewise 
of an irreproachable character, and tells it to a man 
whose candid honesty and well-digested learning had 
rendered him one of the greatest ornaments of the 
age in which he lived. This account his son, a man 
of learning likewise, and of approved integrity, finds 
under his father s own hand, in his Adversaria, and 
gives it to the world ; with this additional information, 
that lie, the son, who had been beneficed in Somerset 
shire, had never heard the fact disputed, but had 
frequently met with several who pretended to a perfect 
knowledge of it. 

i o this let me add, that religion was out of the 
question. Here was no church, or churchman, no 
sect or doctrine, to be confuted or established, by the 
attestation of a prodigy. The great critic speaks of 
it as a physical, though a wonderful event. The very 
bishops deliver it to one another, and to him, as only 
an escape of nature. The bishop s wife indeed, at 
first, seemed a little planet-struck with superstition; 
and while she thought herself only distinguished with 
this badge of sanctity, was very willing it should pass 
for a miracle. But the honest bishop laughed her 
out of this conceit : and when she found how small 
a part of the honour was likely to fall to her share, 
she seemed content to submit it to her husband s better 
judgment. 

Now, as religion and religious purposes had nothing 
to do in this wonder, that extraordinary philosopher *, 
once before quoted, will permit us to give it credit. 

It is indeed so well proved, as to bear much weightier 
observations than any I have to lay upon it : what I 
have to say being only this, i . That the two or three 

* The author of Philosophical Essays, Sec. 

dreadful 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 12;, 

dreadful explosions perfectly agree with what hath 
been observed of the componency of that lightning 
which produces such an effect; namely, that it 
abounded with nitrous and fixed salts. 2. The rela 
tion says, it was some time after that the crosses 
were found upon the bodies of the patients ; and that 
the bishop observed one upon himself on talking with 
his wife about it. This may give light to a passage 
in Gregory, which has the air of mystery, and yet 
amounts to no more than what the simpler and less 
sublime pen of this modern critic explains. The 
words of Gregory are these : As they were shewing 
these marks, or attending to others who shewed them, 
each presently observed the wonder, either on himself 
or his neighbour ; a radiant mark on his body or his 
garment. 

But suppose it should be said, ec That the circum 
stance of lightning, on which w r e pretend to explain 
this phenomenon, is not sufficiently established ; as 
it is mentioned but by one historian ; and only in two 
words ; and by the general name of a fire from 
Heaven." Whoever says it, will gain little, if his 
design be to invalidate the circumstance ; and yet- 
less, if he thinks that the discredit of that circum 
stance will deprive us of the means of accounting for 
the crosses. For it appears, from the nature of things 
already explained, that a fire from beneath might 
produce this effect as naturally as a Jire from above. 
And by a relation, as well attested and notorious as 
the fact preserved in Casaubon, w r e have a famous 
instance of its having actually produced it. The 
excellent Mr. BOYLE, in his discourse of some un 
heeded causes of the insalubrity and salubrity of the 
air, gives us the following history from Kircher arid 
others : " And that the subterraneal effluvia may 

<c produce 



126 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

(t produce effects, and therefore probably be of na- 
u tures very uncommon, irregular, and, if I may so 
" speak, extravagant, may appear in those prodigious 
" CROSSES that were seen in our time, viz. in the 
" year iGfio, in the kingdom of Naples, after the 
" eruption of the fiery mountain Vesuvius ; of which 
" prodigies the learned Kircherus has given an ac- 
" count in a particular Diatribe : for these crosses 
" were seen on linen -garments, as shirt-sleeves, 
" women s aprons, that had lain open to the air, and 
" upon the exposed parts of sheets ; which is 
" the less to be admired, because, as Kircher fairly 
" guesses, the mineral vapours were, by the texture 
" that belongs to linen (which consists of threads 
" crossing one another, for the most part, at or near 
" right angles) easily determined to run along in 
" almost straight lines, crossing each other, and con- 
" sequently to frame spots resembling some one, 
" and some another kind of crosses. These were 
" extremely numerous in the several parts of the 
" kingdom of Naples ; insomuch that the Jesuit, that 
" sent the relation to Kircher, says, that he himself 
" found thirty in one altar-cloth, that fifteen were 
" found upon the smock-sleeve of a woman, and that 
" he reckoned eight in a boy s band : also their colour 
" and magnitude were very unequal, and their figures 
" discrepant, as may appear by many pictures of 
" them drawn by the relator ; they would not wash 
" out with simple water, but required soap ; their dura- 
(t tion was also unequal, some lasting ten or fifteen days, 
" and others longer -, before they disappeared *." 

l . The first observation I shall make on this curious 
narrative, is, that these Vesuvian crosses appear to 

* Works of Mr. Boyle, in folio, vol. iv. p. 293. 

have 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 127 

have been impressed only on the garments, and not 
on the bodies : just contrary to those occasioned by 
the lightning at Wells; which were on the bodies, 
and not on the garments : while the Julian crosses 
appeared on both. The reader, therefore, if he 
likes it, may suppose, without any absurdity, that in 
the case at Jerusalem, the crosses on the bodies 
were caused by the lightning ; and the crosses on the 
garments, by the eruption from the foundations. 

2. The Vesuvian crosses were extremely numerous*, 
which agrees well with the relations of Sozomene 
and Theodoret, the last of whom says, their garments 
were filled with them. 

3. These Vesuvian crosses were hardly to be 
washed out : which exactly agrees with what Socrates 
and Rufinus tell of the same remarkable quality in 
the crosses at Jerusalem. 

4. Lastly, we understand, that the marks of some 
of these were of considerable duration ; as were those 
mentioned by Gregory Nazianzene ; which, he says, 
continued to the time he wrote. 

So much then for the contemporary evidence; 
which, though fathers of the church, are come off, 
we see, with honour : and most so in a circumstance 
of a very delicate nature. 

In the next class are Rufinus, Socrates, Sozomene 
and Theodoret. And all they add to the miraculous 
of Gregory s relation, are these two particulars : 
i.The lightning, or a fire from Heaven, mentioned by 
Socrates. And, 2. this other circumstance, told us 
by Theodoret, that when they began to dig the founda 
tions, and carry out the earth, an incredible number 
of people tu as employed all day long upon the work* 
But in the night, the earth, thus taken out, returned, 

of 



1 28 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book If. 

of its own accord, from the valley into which it had 
been thrown* . 

The case of the lightning hath been considered 
already, where it was brought in to explain the nature 
of the crosses. And, on that occasion, its close con 
nexion with the rest of the phenomena was examined 
and explained. 

What rests to be accounted for is only the Jilting 
again of the foundations with the earth that had been 
thrown out. And this appears to be one of those 
natural events, which, when men s minds are possessed 
with miracles (whether real or imaginary) they are 
wont to explain into prodigies : of the same nature 
and origin/doubtless, with that imagination in Gregory, 
that when the crowd, which were tumultuously breaking 
into the church, had stopped up the passage, they 
were kept back by an invisible hand. For admit the 
fact as Theodoret relates it, that the foundations were 
filled again, and the valley, into which the earth 
had been thrown, was emptied; nothing was more 
natural than for an earthquake to do both, if it did 
any thing at all. The usual effect it is observed to 
produce, being an entire alteration in the face of 
things; such as the filling what is empty, and the 
emptying what is full. Cassiodorus, called the Senator, 
(who abridged the Tripartite History which Epipha- 
nius Scholasticus composed out of those of Socrates, 
Sozomene, and Theodoret), smooths what looked too 
rugged in this miracle, by the lightness and currency 
of his expression, nocte vero spontanea terra de valle 
crescebat f ; suffering the reader to go at his pleasure 



r ETTi* oi opi/r^jy rifZetflo K^ Tot %av ixtyopeTv, qawnyiyiw ^.tv 
eofuv (Avpnx,of$ tPoXActi. vi/xlug ot o p^y? ot.vTQ[A(4Tv$ Mfo TJJJ ^apa/ 

p/l/lttolo. Eccl. Hist. L. iii. c, 20. 
t L. vi. c. 43. 

into 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 129 

into the solution here given ; In support of which it 
will be proper to observe, that the shocks of the 
earthquake were repeated at different times. Gregory, 
we see, tells us of one which happened by day, when 
the labourers were driven for refuge to a neighbouring 
church. On the other hand, Socrates as expressly 
mentions one by night * : the very same (as appears 
from the similarity of the effects) which Socratea 
speaks of, in these words : On the coming day, when 
they were to beg hi with the, foundation, a great earth 
quake happened f : Sozomene s cast out stones from 
the foundation ; so did that of Socrates . It over* 
turned a portico, and crushed to death several who 
were then abiding in it : And this .Theodoret ex 
pressly says happened by night, and to men asleep ||. 

The order, or, to speak more properly, casual 
disposition of Theodoret s relation, is this : The mi 
raculous filling again of the foundations The disper 
sion of the lime and sand by tempests The earth 
quake After that the eruption, and then, for a close, 
the fall of the portico. 

From hence I would observe, i. That, though 
Theodoret, by the turn of his expression, would seem 
to insinuate, that the eruption followed the earth* 
quake very speedily ** ; yet we % see, by Sozomene, 

L. iii. cap. 2O. 



yii/tcrQou fAiyotv. L. V. C. 22. 
J Avspa.o-t TB? ?u9<j ruv isv.\tt.t dipfltof T a. Socrat* 

Two <& xXoi/a r55? yrk ix (Scifyuv u,vx$otowaii T? AtOsf. Sozom. 
Ka* ^/xocrtai Sroa* \v oils xariXwoi* aSfoov xalippyjj^a* t o 

t f*\v avr uia, aTruhoflo, &c. Sozom. 
Ka< Ni/xlw^ ^e fra/A9roM> iv tin tfff^cc^aervt xrftv&flvr 

ootu TO of 
. Theodor. 



o*, &C. 

Vox., VIII. K ther 



130 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

there was a considerable space between ; sufficient to 
clear again the foundations from the ruin they had 
suffered *. But lest it should be said (as it hath 
been observed there were shocks of an earthquake at 
different times) this might be what immediately pre 
ceded that eruption, it will be proper to take notice, 
that the reflection Theodoret makes upon it is the 
very same with, end, indeed, appears to be borrowed 
from, what Socrates makes on the earthquake, which 
he expressly says happened by night "\. Now, be 
tween this, and the eruption, he tells us, there was 
time sufficient for many to come out of the country 
to Jerusalem, whither the fame of the earthquake had 
brought them.;]]. But Theodoret s own expression 
helps us to ascertain the thing. He says the fire 
broke out, I x ru* ifwvopivw S^AUM, from the founda 
tions which were ready dug, in order to be built 
upon, which supposes what Sozomene says, to be true, 
that there was time to repair the disorders which that 
shock of the earthquake had occasioned. 

And thus Cassiodorus understood him : For, speak 
ing, as we observed above, of this miraculous return 
of the earth, he says, every thing was prepared anew . 

By this time the Reader begins to see day, through 
the thick confusion of Theodoret s cloud of circum 
stances : in which, his addition of the wonderful, in 



2f $1 o-tiuv ih-ffav o so?, aSSi? iwetpwvlo ra s pya ot 
ciwvvla, Icr7raaov. Xoy* a* apa, re TO frturtpov t 
spy?, ^ <mv^ t &c. Sozom. 

f AE *^ ^i EX rS yEvo/xsva la^ailtn; xaTEAa^c. Socrat. 

Kat TS -oravJsAw? /x,t;^Ta? ruv Stiuv Ixctvus JtolsVA^Iey. Theodor. 
J Kat (pvi(Av> 7rt rov TOTTOV ?ye xj TS? TEroppo; itaywla?, moifovlfAy ti 
fffpofya, woAAwv trsfov Ttpdrwv iirtytvilcu. tyv^ yot%, &C. Socrat. 

Nocte vero spontanea terra de valle crescebat. Solutis itaque 
. prioris etiam fundament! reliquiis, nova omnia preparabant. 
L. vi, c. 43. 

filling 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 131 

filling again the works, amounts only to this, that an 
earthquake, in the night, tumbled some rubbish into 
the foundations ; and forced some out from a valley 
into which it had been thrown. 

The disjointed parts in Gregory, Socrates, and 
Sozomene; and which are still further distorted by 
Theodoret, the Latin Historian Rufinus fairly reduces 
to their place. " Behold (says he) in the night, the 
last that preceded the day for laying thefounda- 
tion, a prodigious earthquake arises, by which, not 
only the stones of the foundations are cast abroad 
and dispersed, but almost all the edifices, that were 
about the place, are thrown down and levelled. 
Public porticos also, in which a great multitude of 
c Jews, who were observed to push on the work with 
( most vigour, had their abode, being thrown down, 
bury all that are found under them in their ruins *." 
Thus Rufinus, by fairly putting together tiie several 
parts of one event, hath shewn, that levelling the 
ground, and overthrowing the porticos, were the 
simple consequences of the earthquake : while Theo 
doret, by disjointing them, and delivering the effects 
separately, and without their common "cause, hath 
made two miracles out of one natural event. 

The Reader now sees what the FATHERS have to 
say on the occasion. He has had their testimony 
laid at large before him. Let us stop a moment 
then, and cast a general eye upon the whole. I per - 

* Ecce, Nocte, quae ad incipiendum opus jam sola restabut 
Terr* motus ingens oboritur, et non solum fundamentorum 
*axa longeque lateque jactantur, verum etiam totius pene loci 
aedificia complanantur. Porticus quoque public*, in quibus 

isorum multitude, qua: operi videbatur insistere com- 
mauebat, ad solum deduct*, omnes Judffos, qui reper ti sunL 
oppressors, L, x. c, 37, &c. 



OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

suade myself we shall see such a concurrence and 
consistency in the accounts of the TWO PARTIES; so 
perfect an agreement between the Pagan testimony, 
and \\\Q first class of Christian writers ; so close a de 
pendency between these and the second class ; and such 
a connection and enchainment of one fact to another, 
throughout the whole, as will force the most backward 
to confess, that the hand of God was of a truth in this 
wonderful defeat. 

Ammianus Marcellinus, Julian, and Ambrose, speak 
simply of the fiery eruption ; Chrysostorn goes one 
step further, and tells us of its fatal effects. Gregory 
enters more minutely into the affair : he ushers it in 
with what is always found to be the precursors of 
this dreadful judgment, storms and earthquakes : 
and closes the scene with two meteoric phenomena, 
likely enough to succeed it, though, indeed, not so 
much in the way of common observation. 

The following writers, Rufinus, Socrates, Sozo- 
mene, and Theodoret, add little to these relations. 
But the manner in which they tell their story (at the 
same time that it confirms, and explains the accounts 
of those who went before) proves they are not mere 
transcribers .o their predecessors; at least not from 
such of them as now remain ; which amounts to the 
same as if th henaselves were original. 

Thus, for instance, Gregory, indeed, mentions the 
cross upon the garments ;, but it is to Socrates only, 
who speaks of the lightning, that we owe the know 
ledge of the cause. 

So again, Gregory calls them lucid crosses ; but 
we are indebted to Rufinus, Socrates, and Theodoret, 
for the discovery of their specific nature ; who tell us, 
that they shone by night, were dark coloured bv day, 
could not easily be washed out. 

This 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 133 

This will lead us to observe another mark of truth 
in these relations ; That the most wonderful circum 
stances, such as the qualities of these crosses, and the 
lucid circle round the aerial cross (circumstances which 
might seem to be made at pleasure for the sake of the 
marvellous) prove to be the very qualities which be 
long physically to their respective natures. 

Nay, where their prepossessions had led them to 
find prodigies in accidents the most common ; as 
where Gregory ascribes the impediment to enter the 
church-doors to an invisible hand; and Theodoret, 
the filling up the foundations, to be the return of the 
same earth back to its post; they have themselves 
honestly recorded those very facts which enable us to 
rectify their mistakes : Thus the confusion of the crowd, 
which Gregory mentions, when they were endeavouring 
tumultuously to force their way, very naturally ac 
counts for the impediment: and the earthquake, 
Theodoret speaks of, could not but produce that new 
face in the foundations, which he took to be mira 
culous. 

Once more. The fathers indeed record many 
dreadful circumstances : but then none of them prove 
false terrors. If there were storms and tempests, 
they do their work ; the sand and lime are dispersed : 
When the lightning falls, the tools and instruments 
of building are consumed and melted : the earthquake 
overthrows porticos r The Jiery eruption tears in 
pieces the foundations : and not one of these attacks 
upon impiety, but what disperses, maims, or destroys 
the assembled workmen, and their abettors. 

After this too we are told, the various effects it had 
upon the minds of all, how differently soever interested. 
This is of more importance than appears at first sight. 
Invention and fable is not wont to go thus far. It inn y 

K 3 tell 



134 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

tell us of appearances ; but it will never venture to 
speak of effects, which the hearer could immediately 
disprove. That which has a fairy entrance, has a 
fairy exit. Here the effects are mentioned that the 
truth may be examined. C^rysostome actually ap 
peals, for the reality of the eruption, to the sight of the 
burnt and shattered foundations, and to the maimed 
and scorched survivors amongst the workmen. And 
All of them might have appealed, for the reality of 
the storms and lightning (which dispersed the lighter 
materials, and consumed the heavier, together with 
the tools and instruments of work) to the conduct of 
Julian and Alypius : For what other reason can be 
assigned, I do not say, for their deferring, but for 
their giving up, the whole enterprize * ? 

Having now discoursed so largely on the several 
circumstances of this event, and yet (by reason of the 
occasional mention of them) not having been able to 
preserve the order in which they happened; it may 
tend to support, or at least to illustrate, what hath 
been already said, if we give a general view of them 
in one continued and connected relation. 

And here our principal Guide will be the nature of 
the phenomena : for though the Christian Writers will 
not be useless, yet their perpetual violation of the 
order of time makes it necessary to regulate their ac 
counts on the reason of things. 

In excuse of their conduct, something is to be 
ascribed to the literary genius of those times, which 
was inaccurate and immethodical ; something to the 
nature of their evidence, collected from discourses, 
where the mention of this illustrious event is only 



ffM lao* >c yji^, /-uee? TO tgyov 

Soz. L. V. C. 22. Ka* ctvrov [ lAta*oy] x} ra? la<5ata$ sis i 

*? wxfmt kfliff^*wfo Pbilost, Hist. Eccl. 1. vii. c. 9. 

brought 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 135 

brought in to support some particular point of doctrine 
or morality then in question ; but the principal source 
of their neglect of order, was a false persuasion that 
every circumstance was miraculous and out of nature. 
This hindered them from inquiring into the order of 
time, and would have prevented them from finding it, 
had they been disposed to inquire. Besides, the con 
fusion of time supported their system of the miraculous, 
by separating the causes from the effects : and the re 
gulation of it would hav looked like an impiety, as 
seeking for that in nature whose source was only in 
God. This too will account why the fault was not 
reformed by the Historians who followed the original 
evidence; and whose business it was to reduce to 
order the confusion in the occasional works of their 
predecessors. However, whether the miracles became 
casually multiplied by a neglect of chronology, or that 
they purposely neglected it, in order to multiply them ; 
yet multiplied they were ; as we have shewn, in our 
inquiry into the nature of the circumstances. And 
nothing can better support the truth of the deduction 
arising from this inquiry, than the placing each circum 
stance in the order in which it happened. This we 
shall now endeavour to do. 

i. The first signs the Almighty gave of his approach 
ing judgment, were the storms, tempests, -and whirl 
winds. For the incumbent air could not but be affected 
with the ferment, at that time working in the earth, 
and exsuding through its pores. These instruments of 
vengeance performed their office, in the dispersion ot 
the loose materials *. 



j $1 x^ yv-^x x} T/Ia 

o /3tatot *arvivorvlts> tffxtrxs QgQV<; l^xe^acrav. ilieod, 

Hist. Keel. 1. iii. c. 20. 

K 2. After 



OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

2. After these followed the lightning, the usual con 
sequence of the clash and collision of clouds, driven 
forcibly together by storms and tempests. The effects 
this produced were, jirst, destroying the more solid 
materials, and melting down the iron instruments * : 
and secondly, impressing that prodigious mark on the 
bodies and garments of the assistants. For what 
Socrates says is remarkable, that the night after (for 
this lightning, by his account, was in the day) the 
shining crosses appeared upon their garments f : which 
was as boon as they could appear, with that eclat. 
But it may not be improper to observe, that Rufinus 
seems to have mixed together the fire from heaven 
and the fire from the earth ; for he gives all the effects 
of both fire?, mentioned by others, to the single one he 
himseif speaks of^. 

3. The earthquake came next : which, Socrates says, 
happened in the nighi ; that night, in which the 
marks upon the garments were first observed. Its 
effect^ were these. It cast out the stones of the old 
foundations (which gave occasion to a remark, that 

* TIvp yoc.% ef OYPANOY xoflot,y>t-n\l X,v, ttrciflot rat run olx.ooofj.uy 
. htyvtiftv. riv ySv iSsu iwo TJJIJ p^oyoj cc?ro\*.v[j.Eva.<; ra-q 



ojot, ttpos TO tgyov *sirilvi$6 
1. iii. c. 20. 

t Keel yu,% rv> l^pivy ;!*, 
i^ali:^ ct-vruv Ivlil^Tru^ivon i(pdiv/.p-ciit. L. iii. c. 2O. 

J jEdes erat quaed-im in qua ferrameuta aliaque open neces- 
Baria servabaniur; e qua subito globus quidam ignis emicuit, et 
per medium plaieae percurrens, adustis et exterminatis qui aderant 
Juda?is, ultra citraque ferebatur. Hoc iterum saepiusque et fre- 
qoentissime per totum ilium diem repeteris, pertinacis populi 
temeritatcm flummis ultricibus coercebat insequenti nocte in 
yestimeiitis omnium ?ignaculum crucis, &c. L. x. c, 37. 

Koi hot r^f Nwjlof CticpQs ptyot<; iireyuoptv ) ctvtGpours ra? 
&C, L. iii. C. 2O. 

the 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 137 

the prophecy of Jesus was now literally fulfilled) ; it 
shook the earth into the new-dug foundation (of which 
Theodoret, we see, made a miracle) ; and it overthrew 
the adjoining buildings and porticos. 

4. Then followed the fiery eruption *, which de 
stroyed and maimed so many of the workmen and 
assistants ; and at length forced the undertakers to give 
over the attempt as desperate f . But it is to be ob 
served, that this eruption was attended both with 
stoi^ns and tempests above, and with an earthquake. 
below ;. This, Gregory, an original evidence, directly 
affirms ; and it is altogether consonant to the nature 
of things. An earthquake could not but immediately 
precede so violent an eruption; and it is highly pro 
bable, that this tumult communicated itself to the 
neighbouring air. I mention this, because it contri 
buted to the embarras we find in the accounts of the 
evidence; some of whom have confounded this latter 
storm and earthquake with \heformer. Another ob 
servation I would make is, that, according to A in mi- 
anus Marcel linus, the fits of the fiery eruption con 
tinued longer than the Christian writers represent the 
matter. Those of them who say the most, seeming to 
confine the eruptions to one day , if we except the 



mpt> TW 

3e[Athiuv T iepS cmQope, x^ TtroAAb j avJj 
oc.$iu<; htyzla.i rt x) mflvfloUi x^ tffotp uotvo; a/ 

Sozom. L v. c. 2-2. 

f* TavTa jl uvliQtoi Qtua ot.ij.ivoi, x^ TOO; Ssio 
UTrifyetffccv re x^ fu, oiteTa xaliAa^oJ-. Theodor. i. ill. c. 2O. 

J. fi? <& LTTG ay^ia? XakAaTr^. xj ^acr^cS y^$ -afyvu 
ITT* T TUV iff^ylov ItfitJv or* /?ta^0fx,v? 
vw ttffo^o*, t?vg trwi*, &c. Greg. iVi/. Oral. ix. 

*ratlfU2o ptv a Totvrot TO tsb t >, <& ww T^ n^i^at;. Socrat, 
L. iii. c. 20. Hoc iterura Siepiusque et frequentissime per tota-u 
illara diem repetens, pertirwcis populi temtritatein flammis ultri- 
cibus coercebat. 

abridged 



138 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

abridged account of Philostorgius, which intimates, 
they continued as long as any one attempted to go on 
with the enterprize * : and they would hardly desist for 
the impediment of a single day. It is absurd to sup 
pose they did : and Ammianus s words clearly imply 
they did not | : consequently the eruption lasted much 
longer; and continued to be repeated as often as the 
projectors began to renew the attempt, till it had fairly 
tired them out. This, the reader will find, is of im 
portance to establish the divine interposition. Yet the 
Fathers are so impatient to be at their favourite mira 
cles, the crosses in the sky, and on the garments, that 
they slip negligently over what ought principally to 
have been insisted on, the FIERY ERUPTION; and 
leave what was truly miraculous, to run after an ima 
ginary prodigy. The great St. Chrysostome, indeed, 
must be excepted out of this censure. He would not 
suffer the change to be put upon him; but judiciously 
lays the stress upon that which would bear it. 

5. The last appearance was a lucid cross in the hea 
vens, circumscribed within a luminous circle. Nature, 
put so suddenly into commotion by its Creator, was, 
on the despair and dispersion of his enemies, as sud 
denly calmed and composed. And then appeared, in 
the yet clouded firmament, this noble phenomenon, 
in a lunar halo. And what could be conceived so 
proper to close this tremendous scene, or to celebrate 
this decisive victory, as the CROSS triumphant, incircled 
with the HEROIC symbol of conquest? 



* Tare pv yap, &v 

en7/*os iKuvvvu. Philost. Hist. Eccl. L. vii. c. 9. 

f Metuendi globi flammarum prope fundamenta crebris assul- 
tibus erumpentes, fecere locum exustis ahquoties operantibus in- 
accessum : hocque modo elemento destinatvits repellente, cessavit 
inceptum. L. xxiii. c. i. 

The 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE, 

The order here given to the several parts of this 
event, is further supported by MarceliinUss narrative 
of that parallel disaster at Nicomedia ; which we have 
already employed, and more than once, though for 
different purposes, to illustrate the fact in question. 
And it is remarkable, the Roman historian not only 
records the same circumstances, but assigns to each 
of them the same order of time. i. It bejran with 
storms and tempests. " Concreti nubium globi nigran- 
tium," &c. 2. Then followed the lightning, " Dein 
velut numine summo fatales torquente rnanubias," &c. 
3. Then the earthquake. " Horrifico tremore ten-arum, 
civitatem et suburbana funditus everterunt" 4. And 
lastly the Jiery eruption. " Palantes abrupte flamma- 
rum ardores," c. 

The order, so carefully preserved by Marcellinus, at 
Nicomedia, is, we see, totally neglected by the Chris 
tian historians, at Jerusalem. And what but this could 
suggest so different a conduct ? He related what he 
rightly understood to be, in the whole, a natural event ; 
77? fj/, what they falsely conceived to be, in every part, 
miraculous. 

To conclude this head, let me observe, That, in an 
aggregate concurrent evidence, a minute uniformity 
on the one hand, or a real inconsistency on the other, 
equally tend to the discredit of the fact in question. 
In the first case, we justly suspect the evidence to be 
concerted; in the latter, the Jet ct to be ill founded. 
Because, where men relate what they receive from one 
common object, their accounts must be as various as 
the variety of the several recipients; which is just so 
much as to give a different colouring to the same 
things, not to alter the things themselves. When we 
see, therefore, the minutest uniformity in the colouring, 
we conclude them not to be originals, who fairly repre 
sent 



140 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

sent from nature, but copyists, in concert from one 
another. And where, again, that common object, from 
which men receive their intelligence, is real, there, their 
accounts can admit of no inconsistency, because the 
nature of things is invariable. But if this object be 
the creature of the imagination, begot by the disor 
dered passions, which are always changing, the testi 
mony of the deluded observers will never be secure 
from contradiction. 

Now the Christian testimony which we have exa 
mined, on this occasion, appears to be entirely free 
from both these suspicious circumstances. They tell 
it, indeed, in the whole, variously ; but with a perfect 
consistence of all its parts. They shew, by this, they 
wrote neither in concert, nor at random ; but drew 
from one common object, and an object that was real. 

Having explained the general cause of that variety, 
in concurrent evidence, which most establishes its 
credit ; it may be proper to consider, the peculiar 
cause, in the evidence in question. 

Where a notorious fact consists of many circum 
stances, the observers, according to their different tem 
pers and dispositions, will be differently affected. 
Some will be struck with this circumstance, some with 
that. Hence one man will speak of a cause without 
its effect : Another, of the effect without the cause. 
This relator will run two circumstances into one ; That 
will split one into two. And if, of these circumstances, 
there are some not rightly understood, the order of 
time will be neglected : and, from that neglect, another 
embarras, in the evidence, will arise, a different order 
assigned by different writers to the same circumstance. 

Lastly, let me observe, it is not every appearance, 

neither, of a concerted agreement, or irreconciled 

42 contradiction, 



Chap. III.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 141 

contradiction, that should make us lightly reject a 
testimony of (otherwise) established credit. A single 
circumstance, in the event before us, will shew how 
easily, in either case, we may be betrayed into a 
wrong judgment. Nazianzen, Rufinus, Socrates, 
Sozomene, Theodoret, are so exact, and in so per 
fect agreement, about the cross upon the garments 
(while each, in his turn, overlooks more material 
circumstances) that if we take it in the light they 
place it, of a great and amazing prodigy, we should 
be apt to suspect it only a studied ornament to their 
relation. Yet the finding, on examination, that the 
properties, they assign to these crosses, lead to the 
discovery of their real nature, this entirely acquits 
them of invention. Again, what on the x other hand 
has a stronger appearance of contradiction than one* 
of them affirming that these crosses were shining 
and radiated; and another, that they were sombro-us 
and dark-coloured? Yet this apparent contradiction 
assists us in the discovery of one of their physical 
properties ; and that discovery helps us to reconcile 
the contradiction ; as we find they were black by day, 
and lucid by night. 

I chose to let this single circumstance of the crosses 
supply me with these instances of the contrary 
qualities (of too great conformity, and too little con 
sistency, in a concurrent evidence) which equally 
tend r-j render it suspicious ; because, indeed, these 
contrary qualities frequently exist together, in the 
testimony si false witnesses to the same fact. 

We come now, in the last place, to that refuse 
of evidence, which we threw together as of no 
account ; Philostorgius, Theophanes, Orosius, Nice- 
phorus, Zonaras, Cedrenus, arid their fellows. 

These 



142 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II, 

These men, like impertinent players, have only the 
language of others, without any sense of their own ; 
save, that they, sometimes, presume to add their 
own inventions to their author s conceits. Thus Phi- 
lostorgius and Theoph anes clap on a couple of 
senseless lies, to the well-composed relation of their 
predecessors ; which, like wens in a fair- proportioned 
body, stick out so unsightly^as never to be mistaken 
for its natural members. 

The first of them tells a story (which Nicephorus 
has repeated) of a certain cave laid open by the 
workmen, in which was found the Gospel of St. John, 
miraculously preserved*. As this was apparently 
invented in favour of the religion of r cliques, I shall 
deliver it up to the inquisition of Dr. Middleton. 

Theophanes tells his tale on better grounds. He 
affirms, that the marks of the cross were not only 
found at Jerusalem ; but at Antioch, and other cities; 
and that they appeared on the coverings of the altars, 
on the church-books, and on the sacred vestments f- 
Well fare Theophanes, for a punctual relator. I 
fancy Philostorgius would have been at a loss to 
produce his miraculous gospel: But without doubt, 
Theophanes knew where to find enough of his own 
manufacture, to save him from blushing, had he been 
of so weak a complexion. 

* Ka $) Xy TUV &/xAtv iVT^tTr^o^svuvp el 

Ttlotfyivav xiJ>)0Etf, ro/xtov avTptf Tivoq 
&C. Evil/foam <rfay rw 

Hist. Eccl. vii. c. 14; 



fi,vTop.cru<; TS 
TUV 

ray^a, povov tv lgQ?Q?\i>(AQi$ 

Chronog. p. 44. 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 143 



CHAP. IV. 

THE Reader hath now the whole of the church- 
evidence laid before him. It hath been largely and 
minutely examined; and, I presume, so fully ex^ 
plained and vindicated, as to make it needless to 
take notice of any particular Writer, who hath ob 
jected to its credit. 

Yet the remarks of M. JAMES BASXAGE, on this 
collective evidence, are so very . extraordinary, and 
his authority in the learned world so high, that I 
might be reasonably accused of neglect, should I pass 
him over in silence, though a great part of his censure 
hath been already obviated. 

This very learned man, whose candour, exactness, 
and strength of reasoning, have advanced him to the 
first rank in letters, hath, amongst his other excellent 
labours, enriched the Public with a History of the 
Jews, from the beginning of the Christian jEra, down 
to the present times ; composed in a judicious method, 
interspersed with many curious inquiries, and abound 
ing in a vast variety of good learning. 

In the sixth book of this work, he gives us, what 
he calls, an Examination of those miracles which 
defeated Julian s attempt to rebuild the Temple: 
where, to speak freely, I find not one of those quali 
ties, which have rendered him so deservedly famous 
amongst the Protestants abroad. 

After having told us what share Julian had in the 
attempt, and how easily he brought the Jews into his 
measures, he goes on in this manner ; 

It 



144 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

* 8f It is said, that God hindered the building of 
<c the temple, by three succeeding miracles. Three 

" ancient 

* On dit que Dieu I emp&cha par trois miracles consecutifg. 
Trois historiens anciens, Socrate, Sozomene, & Theodoret, ra- 
portent unanirnement ces faits. Sozomene mcme. .qui, a peur 
que quelques incredules ne les regardent comme fabuleux, renvoie 
ces incredules a la deposition de3 temoins oculaires, qui vivoient 
encore lors qu il ecrivoit. Le premier de ces miracles fut un 
tremblement de terre, qui arriva lors qu on nettoioit les fonde 
mens de Tandem temple pour en jetter des nouveaux t et ce 
tremblement de terre renversa les materiaux. II y a deux 
variations sur ce premier miracle; car Theodoret le fait pre- 
ceder de je ne sai quelle vertu divine, qui raportoit la nuit les 
anciens materiaux & les ordures qu on avoit otees, et ensuite d un 
vent miraculeux, qui dissipa les pierres, quoi qu on eut jette 
dessus une prodigieuse quantite de chaux et de ciment pour 
les effermir. Secondement, Sozomene fait mourir par ce trem 
blement de terre un grand noinbrc de pcrsonnes, qui ctoient 
venues la en qualilc d ouvriers, ou de spectateurs, et qui fureni 
ecrasees sous les ruines des maisons voisines et des porches,. 
BOUS lesquels ils s e"toient retirez. Le second miracle fut un 
feu, qui, sortant des fondemens qu on venoit de poser, consuma 
une partie des ouvriers, et mit le reste en fuite : Tun fait de- 
scendre ce feu du ciel, et les deux autres le font sortir de terre. 
Socrate le fait durer un jour entier pour consumer les hoiaux, 
les peles, et tous les instrumens destinez > al ouvrage. Sozomene 
raporte avec quelque incertitude la mart des ouvriers. II marque 
mme qu on varioit un peu ; les uns assurent que le feu les 
avoit consumez, lors qu ils avoient voulu cntrer dans le temple ; 
ce qui etoit impertinent ; puis que les fondemens etoient a peine 
achevez; & les autres soutenoient que cela etoit arrive, lors 
qu on commencd a remuer la terre, et a la transporter. II y a une 
quatrieme variation sur ce miracle ; car on ajoute que les Juifsj 
reconurent malgre eux que J. CHRIST etoit Dieu, et qu ils ne 
laisserent pas de perseverer dans leur enterprise ; ce qui est 
contradictoire. Mais il n importe : leur fermete donna lieu a 
un troisieme prodigie. Car ils s apercurent le matin qu il y 
avoit un grand nombre d etoiles raionnantes semees sur lenrs 
habits, qu ils voulurent effacer sans pouvoir y rciissir. Sozomene 
y ajoute des fctoiles qui 6toieot feitcg avec autaat; d art, que 

i 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 145 

" ancient historians, SOCRATES, SOZOMENE, and 
" THEODOKET, unanimously relate these i acts. And 

" as 

si elles y avoient etc mises par la main de 1 ouvrier. Theodoret 
s ecarte un peu ; car au lieu d etoilea raioim mtes il en met de 
noires, ce qui representoit mieux le crime et le suplice des Juifs, 
et k mme terns il en lait ecr. STI plusieurs qui etoient endormis 
BOUS UH porche. Mais la graiide variation roulle sur iViTet de 
ce troisieme miracle : car IPS uns assurent que les Jail s se 
retirerent chez eux auss ; endurcis que s ils r/avoient rie.n vd. 
Mais les deux autres pretenuent que la mupurt se firen--Chrtiens, 
et que le bruit de leur conveision alia jupqu aux oreilles de 
1 Kmpereur Julien. Nous avon* cru devoir remanjuer ces dif- 
fc rentes circonstances, a fin qu ori puisse rnieux peser la veritc 
dft ce recit Les uns trouveront qnelque plaisir a multiplier le 
nombre de CPS miracles, comme Tlieodoret, et y ajouter mCme 
ce que les Kcrivains ui"tlernes en ont dit. Mais il est juste 
que les autres y trouvent aussi les raisins qu on pent avoi* de 
suspendre sa tbi. J ajouierai seuiemeiit deux cboses. l/une, 
que lu preuve que Soznniene allcgue pour montrer la veritc de 
ce qu il avance, es tivs foible. 11 en appcll^ d cvencment, 
& soutient qn on ne peur j lus douter de celfe longue suite de 
miracles, parce que le temple ne fut point achevtS INIais cet 
historien avoit-il <u:<lic que la permission ne fut donnce aux 
Juifs, que lors que Julien partoit pour son expedition centre les 
Perses, dans liiquelle il fut tue, & qu ainsi on n avoit pas besoin 
de tant de miracles pour empecher la structure d un ed ; rice ? 
L oposition des Chrotuns, qui profitererit de 1 eloignement da 
prince, sa mort, et 1 elevation de Jovien, enemi des Juifs, suf- 
fisoient pour arreier tout court ce dessein. D ailleurs, il renvoye 
ses lectures en termes vagues, a des temoins oculaires, sans 
nommer, ni indiquer personne. Enfin Cyrille de Jerusalem, qui 
etoit alors Evfique de cette ville, devoit et.-e sur les lieux, puis 
qne ce fut lui qui rassura le peuple p.ir le moin d un oracle de 
Daniel, qui avoit prodit, ^ ce qu .l croyoit, que 1 ouvrage ne 
reiissiroit pas. Cependant Cyiille n ajaiuuis parlA de tens ces 
miracles. Ce n est pas qu il ne 1s a mat. II ecrivit, dit-on, a 
Constantin le Jeune, pour lui uppiendre qu il 6 oit plus l;eureux 
que son pere, sous 1 empire duquel on av. it trouvo en terre la 
croix du lils de Dieu, puis que le ciei !ui tcxisoit voir un prodige 
plus ocUant: c c it une cro x i-l:is lummeuse que le >oleil, 
que toute It vill . dj Jerusalem c.voit vue au firmament un long 
VOL. VIII. L tspece 



T 4 6 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

" as to Sozomene, in particular, who is apprehensive, 
" there might be certain unbelievers, who would give 
" no credit to them, he sends such to the depositions 
" of those who had been eye-witnesses, and were yet 
" living when he wrote his history. 

" Thejlrst of these miracles was an EARTHQUAKE, 
" which happened at the time they were clearing 
" the old foundations, in order to lay new : and 
" this earthquake overthrew their magazines of ma- 
" terials. 

" There are two variations on the subject of this 
" first miracle. For Theodoret makes it preceded, 
ft i . by I can t tell what divine power ; which, in 
" the night, brought back the old materials and 
" rubbish into the place from whence they had been 
" taken : and 2dly, by a miraculous wind, which 
" dispersed the stones, though they had been covered 
" by a prodigious quantity of lime and mortar, to 
" bind them into one solid mass. The second va- 
" riation is in Sozomene s m king this earthquake 
" destroy a great number of people, who uere there 



cspece de terns. Pourquoi parler de cette croix, et se taire sur 
ces miracles ? II apiend aux Juifs quils verront le signe de la 
croix, lequel precedera la venue du fils de Dieu, & ne dit pat 
un seul mot de cellos qui avoient ete attachees miraculeusement 
k leurs habits. Ce silence d un Evcque qui etoit sur les lieux, 
qui aimoit les miracles et la conversion des Juits, est suspect, 
lors qii il n y a que des temoins eloignez qui p ti lent. ( ependant 
il ne taut p >s dissiinuler, que si un des Chronologistes Juifs 
gouuent, que le temple ne fut point bati a cause de la moi t im- 
prevue de Ju-lien, un autre assure que ce temple, rebati a grandi 
t\ s, umiba, et que le leudemain un grand Jcu, qui ri?it du citl, 
fundit /e.s Jerrenteits qui rcstoient, $ Jit pcrir une multitude in- 
nwnbribie de Ji/ s C et aveu des Rabbins rst d autant plus 
coi.s.derable qu il pst nijiirieux a la nation, et que ces messieurs 
Be sont p-is accuCuuintA a copier les Ouvra^es des Chretien*, 
, liibi. des Juas, Lib. vi. c. 18, 19. 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 147 

" in quality of workmen or lookers-on, and were 

< buried under the ruins of the neighbouring houses 

" and porticos, whither they had retired for shelter. 

" The second miracle was a FIRE, which burst 

* from the foundations they were then preparing; 

" and destroyed one part of the workmen, and put 

" the rest to flight, i. One of these historians 

" makes this fire to descend from Heaven ; the other 

" two bring it from beneath. 2. Socrates says, it 

" continued the whole day, and consumed the pick- 

" axes, shovels, and all the tools and instruments 

" destined to this service. 3. Sozomene relates the 

" death of the workmen with some uncertainty, 

" Nay, he observes, that here the evidence varied 

" a little ; some affirming that the fire destroys d 

" them as they uere striving to enter the temple 

" (which was certainly an idle story, since even the 

" foundations were hardly r finished ;) while others say, 

" it happened when they first began to break ground, 

" and carry off the rubbish. 4. There is a fourth 

" variation on the subject of this miracle ; for it is 

* added, the Jews confessed, though in spite of 

" themselves, that JESUS CHRIST was God; and 

" yet they did not cease to persevere in their attempt : 

" which is a manifest contradiction. 

" But no matter for that : their obstinacy gave 

occasion to a third miracle. For, in the morning, 

they perceived a great number of SHINING STARS 

" scattered over their habits ; which they tried to 

" efface, but in vain. Sozomene adds, there were 

" of these stars so artfully formed, that the band of 

" a workman could not have done them better: 

" Theodoret deviates a little here ; For, instead of 

" the shining stars, he speaks of black ones. Such 

as indeed more properly marked the crime and 

L 2 t( punishment 



i4 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

" -punishment of the Jews. And at the same time, 
" he crushes to death a great number, who were fast 
" asleep under a portico. 

" But the great variation of all turns upon the effect 
" of the third miracle. For one assures us, that the 
" Jews returned home as hardened as if they had 
" seen nothing: whereas the other two pretend, that 
" the greater part embraced the Christian faith ; and 
" that the news of their conversion reached even to 
" the ears of Julian himself. 

" We have conceived it to be the duty of a faith- 
" ful historian to take notice of these differences, in 
". order to assist the reader, in forming a right 
" judgment of the truth of the whole relation. Some, 
" doubtless, will find their pleasure in multiplying 
" the number of these miracles, like Theodoret; 
" and even in adding every thing which modern 
(i writers have said to set them off. But it is no 
" more than fitting that men of a different turn should 
" be made acquainted with the reasons there are 
" to suspend their belief. 

c< I will only add these two observations to what 
" has been already said. The one is, that the ar- 
" gument Sozomene brings to prove the truth of 
" what he advances, is a very weak one. He appeals 
" to the issue; and maintains, we can no longer 
" doubt of this long train of miracles, since the temple 
" was never finished. But couid this historian forget 
" that the Jews did not obtain their permission to 
" rebuild it till the time of Julian s setting out for 
" his Persian expedition, in which he perished? 
" As this was the case, there was little need of all 
" these miracles to hinder the erection of a single 
" building] surely, a sutiicient cause for cur ting .-iiort 
" an enterprize of this na -ure may be fl md in the 

" oppobition 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 149 

" opposition of the Christians, who might take 
<c advantage of the prince s absence in a remote 
" region, of his death there, and the advancement 
" of Jovian, who was an enemy to the Jews. Besides, 
" the historian refers his readers, in a vague, in- 
" definite manner, to the eye-witnesses of the fact, 
" without pointing out one single person by name. 

" But lastly, Cyrill of Jerusalem, who was, at that 
" time, Bishop of the place, and must have been 
<f upon the spot, since it was he, who confiding in 
" a prophecy of Daniel (which had foretold, as he 
<c thought, that the attempt would prove unsuccessful) 
" encouraged and animated the people to repose 
" their confidence in God. Notwithstanding, this 
" same Cyrill has never taken the least notice of 
" these many miracles : and yet it certainly was not 
" because he was no friend to miracles : We are 
" told he wrote to Constantine the Younger, to 
rt inform him, that he was more happy than his 
* father, under whose empire the cross of Christ 
" had been found here on earth, since Heaven, to 
" grace his reign, had displayed a more illustrious 
" prodigy: which was, a cross much brighter than 
" the sun, seen in the firmament for a long time 
" together, by the whole city of Jerusalem. Why, 
" now, was that cross remembered, and all these 
" miracles forgotten ? He assures the Jews, they 
" shall see the sign of the cross; and that it will 
" precede the coming ot the Son of God; and yet 
tl he says not one single word of those which had 
" been miraculously affixed to their habits. The 
" silence of a Bishop, who was upon the place, who 
" loved miracles, and laboured for the conversion 
" of the Jews, looks very suspicious ; while at the 

L 3 " same 



150 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

" same time, they, who do speak to it, lived at a 
" distance. 

" However, it ought not to be dissembled, that, 
" if one oi the Jewish Chronolo^ists maintains, that 
u the sudden and unexpected death of Julian pre- 
" vented the rebuilding the temple ; another ot them 
" assures us it was rebuilt, and that, when tuis was 
" done at a vast expence, it tumbled dov\n again, 
" and, the next day, a dreadful fre, which fell 
" from Heaven, melted all the iron instruments that 
" remained, and destroyed an innumerable multitude 
" of Jews. This confessio i of the Rabbins is the 
" iiuv- e considerable, as it reflects dishonour on the 
" nation; and these gentry are not wont to copy 
" from the writings of the Christians." 

Before I proceed to a particular examination of 
this long passage, I shall make these two general 
remarks upon it. 

Tirst, that the learned critic goes all the way 
upon a false supposition ; namely, that it was the 
purpose of these three historians, in their accounts 
of this event, to place the several circumstances, at 
tending it, in the order of time in which each of 
them uas supposed to happen. I have shewn they 
had no such purpose, and have explained the cause 
of their neglecting the order of time *. This was fit 
to be taken notice of, because the main force in his 
objections arises from the contrary supposition. 

My second remark is, that the learned critic em 
barrasses both himself and his reader, by using, without 
explaining, the ambiguous term ot VARIATION : which 
may either signify a contradiction ; or, only a simple 
diversity. His reasoning requires you should apply 
it in the former sense ; but his J acts commonly go no 

* See pp. 134, 135. 

higher 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 151 

higher than the latter. This was proper to observe, 
because a contradiction discredits a concurrent evi 
dence : while a simple diversity never hurts, and often 
supports it *. 

When a writer s purpose fs not to confirm the fact 
in question; but to render it do ibtful and suspected; 
it will lye upon him to give a good account of every 
part of the evidence by which it may be supported : 
because no conclusion can be drawn against a fdct till 
the whole testimony for it hath been fairly invalidated. 
It is otherwise when a fact is to be established. In 
that case, it may be sufficient to select and urge only 
the most material. Now the learned critic begins his 
discourse in this manner, It is said, that God hindered 
the building of the temple by three succeeding miracles. 
Three ancient historians, SOCRATES, SOZOMENE, and 
TIIEODORET, unanimously relate these facts. 

His process against the miracle is regular and in 
form. He first names his witnesses : but does he 
name them all ? So one would be apt to conclude, both 
from the nature of the case, and the critic s turn of 
expression : at least one would never suspect that he 
had omitted any of the first and original evidence. Yet 
he has omitted all of them. Not only Ambrose, Gre 
gory, Nazianzene, and St. Chrysostome ; but even the 
testimony of Marcellinus himself. This is a proceeding, 
which bears as hard against the ingenuity of the 
writer as against the strength ot his conclusion : and, 
with regard to his argument, the utmost this method 
can effect is only to discredit the witnesses he does 
think fit to produce and examine; while the fact itself 
supported by others, of greater and unquestioned au 
thority, remains entire But let us view his confuta 
tion in the light he would have it seen. 

* See p. 139* & *eq. 

L4 His 



152 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

His objection to the earthquake, \\ hich lie calls the 
FIRST miracle, is, that there are two variations con 
cerning it. 

Thejirst is, that Theodoret makes it preceded, first, 
by I cant tell what divine power, which, in the night, 
brought back the old materials and rubbish into the 
place from whence they had been taken ; and, 2dly, by 
a miraculous wind j which dispersed the si ones*, though 
they had been covered by a prodigious quantity of lime 
and mortar, to bind them into one solid mass. 

1. As M. -Basnage himself here states the case, we 
see this is of the nature of those variations, mentioned 
just before, that imply no contradiction, but only a 
diversity. A case almost essential to the truth of an 
accumulative evidence, not given in concert. One 
witness delivers a circumstance omitted by another; 
and omits a circumstance which the other hath deli 
vered. Thus Theodoret is here said to relate two 
circumstances preceding the earthquake, of. which 
Socrates and Sozomene are silent : and Sozomene to 
relate an effect of this earthquake, of which Socrates 
and Theodoret are silent. Now r , not to repeat what 
hath been just observed of the real credit these diver 
sities carry with them ; what can more strongly support 
the truth of this earthquake, attested by three historians, 
than that, when one had only recorded the fact itself, 
the other two preserved the memory of those circum 
stances, which, we have shewn *, this fact was most 
likely to produce ? 

2, But on the learned critic s false supposition of 
an order of time observed in these accounts, he might 
have improved this variation into a contradiction 

* See pp. 128130. and pp. 114116. 

And, 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 153 

And, considering he had this imaginary advantage, one 
would wonder he did not use it. For, in the order of 
Theodoret s relation, the filling up the foundations goes 
before the earthquake ; whereas from the accounts of 
Rulinus and Cassiodorus, explained on .the reason of 
things, it appears to have been qficr, and the effect 
of the earthquake. But, as it hath been shewn *, that 
the historians had it not in their purpose to ohserve 
the order of time, the objection, even when thus stated, 
is seen to have no weight However, admit, the his 
torians had it in their purpose to observe the order of 
time, and that they differed in placing some of the 
circumstances : what follows ? Not that the facts were 
false : but that the witnesses were men of credit, who 
did not write in concert. Is not the whole body of 
civil history full of facts believed by all mankind ; 
about the order of which, as they stand connected in 
time to one another, historians do, and will eternally 
differ? I have now accidentally lying before me Dr. 
Hody s learned account of those illustrious Greeks who 
brought the use of their language into the west of 
Europe; where, speaking of Emmanuel Chrysologus, 
it appears that a number of writers, contemporary with 
him, affirm, that he first taught at Venice, then at 
Florence: while as great a number, and of equal 
credit, affirm just the contrary, that it was jirst at 
Florence, and cijteru-ards at Venice. In the mean 
while no body ever doubted that he taught in both 
places. And here the distinction between a natural 
and supernatural tact (frequently, and indeed, properly 
urged in these disputes) hath no place. For M. Bas- 
nage s objection stands on a civil, not a physical, 
reason. 

* See pp. 134, 135. 

3. Lastly, 



154 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

3. Lastly, He tells us, Theodoret says, a miraculous 
wind dispersed the stones, though they had been covered 
by a prodigious quantity of lime and mortar to bind 
them into one solid mass. But the best is, Theodoret 
says no such thing. The candid Critic should not have 
made his miracles still more wonderful by a false ex 
position of them. The whole affair, indeed, we think, 
was one continued declaration of the divine displeasure : 
but where God employs natural instruments to execute 
his judgments, tli -y usually work according to their 
capacities : and Theodoret s wind dots no more. His 
words are these " When they had laid in, and dis- 
" posed on heaps, many thousand measures of lime 
<f and plaster ; violent storms, whirlwinds, and tem- 
" pests; unexpectedly arose, and dispersed them all 
" about *. Here we find nothing told, but what this 
elementary agency might well perform So that one 
cannot conceive what it was that induced this learned 
man, first to lay so strong an embargo on his heavy 
weight of stones, and then to disperse them again so 
lightly ; unless, because, as he says, the Fathers loved 
to talk of miracles, so he loved to laugh at them. But 
he should have chosen a fitter subject for his mirth. 

His second variation about the earthquake is, in 
Sozomene s making it destroy a great number of people 
who were buried under the ruins of the neighbouring 
houses and porticos. Here the variation is still more 
imaginary. Sozomene is not alone in the fact. Theo- 
don t likewisq* mentions it; though, by placing the 
fiery eruption between the earthquake and the fall 
of the porticos, he hath separated the cause from 



Hist. Eccl. 1. iii. c. 20. 

the 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 155 

the effect *. We should therefore place this instance 
amongst the supports, not the objections, to this illus 
trious event. 

The stcoxD miracle, according to M. Basnage s 
representation of things, is thejirefrom the foundations: 
and concerning this, he assures us, there are no less 
than four variations. 

Tl\cJ/r$t is, that one of the historians makes the 
fire to descend from heaven-, the other two bring it 
from beneath. 

The assertion is grounded on a mere mistake of the 
text. Socrates speaks of one fact, when he says, " A 
l fire came from Heaven, and consumed all the work- 
" men s tools f ;" Sozomene and Theodoret of another, 
when they say, " A fire broke out of the foundations, 
" and destroyed many of the workmen themselves *." 
And nothing but rnnch prejudice, or little attention, 
could have blended two consistent, into one inconsistent 
fact. The fire from heaven* and the fire from the 
foundations, were different events : and distant from 
each other in time as well as place. All the mystery 
is, that Socrates mentions the former, and omits the 
latter; and Sozomene and Theodoret mention t .e 
latter, and omit the former. The nature of things *, 
as well as the rules of interpretation, supports this 
distinction : and, physically speaking, it had been more 
to be wondered at, if the storms and tempests had not 
produced lightning, than if a fiery eruption had not 
followed an earthquake. 

* See p. 129. 

t rit^ yap | ^aru x-cZlourx.^** t Vfatioe. ret ruf o 
}<iOsi0iv, L. iii. c. 20. 



Sozom. L. V. C. 22. -*rt IK. rut 

*ir* TVV iguTloyltfit irinfwi, Theod. 1. iii. c. 20. 

The 



156 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book IL 

The second variation is, that Socrates says, the fire 
continued the whole day ; and consumed the pick-ares, 
shovels, and ail the tools and instruments destined to 
the service. 

This variation is as fanciful, as the supposition, on 
which it rises, is false; namely, that Socrates here 
speaks of the same fire mentioned by Sozomene and 
Theodoret. For if he meant a different (as he certainly 
did), then its continuance for a whole day is no varia 
tion, even in the lowest sense our critic uses it, of one 
writer s recording a circumstance, of the same fact, 
which another hath omitted. 

A third variation (says M. Basnage) is, that Sozo- 
mene relates the death of the workmen with some 
uncertainty. Nay, the historian observes, that here 
the evidence varied a little. Some affirming that the 

Jire destroyed them as they were striving to enter the 
temple (which was certainly an idle story, since the 

foundations were hardly jinished) ; while others say, 
it happened when they first began to break ground and 
carry off the rubbish. 

That Sozomene relates the death of the workmen with 
some uncertainty is a strange misrepresentation : his 
w ords are these, It is said, that afire burst suddenly 

from the ruins, and destroyed many. And this thing 
is confidently reported and believed by all, no one man 
ever calling it in question *. Could a writer possibly 
express more confidence in a Fact related ? Let the 
Reader judge. 

Indeed, Sozomene does observe, that, though, in 

* the fact itself, all were agreed ; yet, in one circum 
stance attending it, the evidence varied a little. A 

* Aoy- yt cipoi rs TO $&i>Tt%o IvE^itptfv ru t^fa, t tnv(> i%ot,tyvvi$ 
ix rut $6/AiAiwv ru iga cm Oogi, xj croMas atfavffl x} TTO rgo$ <&<x.tluv 

L v. c- 22. 

passage 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 157 

passage of Gregory Nazianzene ill understood appa 
rently betrayed him into this groundless remark. But 
it Sozomene mistook Gregory, M. Basnage has much 
more grossly mistaken Sozomene. 

Gregory delivered his account of the eruption in 
these words They/led together J or refuge to an ad 
joining church As they strove violently to force their 
way in, the Jire, which burst from the foundations of 
the temple, met and stopped them ; and one part of 
them it burnt and destroyed*, 8$c. Sozomene, allud 
ing to this passage -(after he had told us, that the fact 
of the fire s breaking from the foundations was believed 
by all, and contradicted by none) says, Indeed there 
is this small difference in the circumstances ; some say 
the fame met them as they were forcing their way into 
the church, and produced the effect spoken of above; 
while others say, it happened when first they began 
to clear the foundations f. Sozomene, we see, under 
stood Gregory, as if he had meant, that the flame 
Tvhich met those who were striving to enter the church, 
happened at some time different from that which was 
said to destroy the men working at the foundations. 
But he certainly mistook Gregory; who supposes 
plainly enough, that this destruction happened at the 
very time they were digging the foundations. Gregory 
not only assures us that the fact as he tells it, stood 
unquestioned by all (v hich he could not have said had 
it related to another timt) ; but he expressly says, they 
fled to this church as to a refuge from the whirlwind 
and earthquake. Now the evidence is unanimous, that 
the whirlwind and earthquake happened as they were 

* See pp. in, 112. 

J" riA>j OTI [Asv Qotnv OT PAOL^/J^VS- aOru; iff TO ttpoy Gypo\ tratt t 
/]j3<racrix, TO E. ftj^iro sifyoMrttlo of $i, Upsc *)p%aAo rov ^9 
L. V. C. 22. 

preparing 



158 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

preparing the foundations. In a word, what Sozomene 
mistook for a variation, properly so called, was two 
different relations of the different parts of the same 
event. Great numbers fled from the whirlwind and 
earthquake ; and these the fire, which burst from the 
foundations, destroyed as they were striving to enter 
the church : others stood their ground ; and these were 
destroyed on the spot. Unwarily, Sozomene mistook 
Gregory s narrative of the state, in which the same 
eruption seized some of the sufferers, for the narrative 
of a different eruption. But though the ancient rela- 
tors of this fact had indeed spoken of different erup 
tions, an l, in ascribing the same general effect to all, 
had yet represented the workmen as destroyed, while 
buried in different places, and in different occupations : 
"What then? Would this have taken off from the credit 
of their relation ? By no means. On the contrary, it 
must have added to it. For we have seen in part, and 
shall see more fully hereafter, that tliejits of this fiery 
eruption were so obstinate as not to give over till it 
had brought the directors to despair of the under 
taking. 

But to return to Sozomene : an attentive writer 
might have fallen into his mistake : What drew M. 
Basnage aside is not so easily understood. To in 
terpret Sozomene as saying, that it was the new- 
built temple, into which these unhappy sufferers 
strove to enter, when his whole history shews, the 
foundations were never finished, implies strange in 
attention to his subject; or confidence in the implicit 
faith of his readers. But let Sozomene speak for 
himself. He says, thejire met them as they strove 
to enter ? TO I^ov 9 into the church or temple. And 
to know what place he meant by these words, we 

must 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 159 

must have recourse to his author, Greg. Nazianzcnc : 
Who, in the relation a 1 ready given at large *, says, 
that when the Jews had procured the countenance 
and assistance of Julian to rebuild the temple, they 
addressed themselves to the undertaking, with great 
alacrity and vigour; but, being driven from their 
work by a whirlwind and earthquake, they fled for 
refuse to a certain neighbouring church, In I n TM 
wAWcv if/>>, apparently a Christian Oratory, built 
amongst, or adjoining to, the ruins of those sacred 
places, formerly included within the walls of the 
temple. This particular, Sozornene takes from Gre 
gory: And what the latter expresses by n T ru* 
srXrxrioit Ispw, the other calls ? TO Itgov, info the 
church. Yet M. Basnage supposes, he meant the 
Jewish temple rebuilt. But perhaps he might be 
betrayed into this absurd interpretation, from what 
followed in Gregory; who says, that while they 
were striving to force their way into this church, 
a fire EX T //>, met and stopped them. The question 
is what he here meant by li^a ; doubtless the same 
with itpuv, going before, the Jewish Temple, near 
which the Christian Church or Oratory stood. But 
what temple? Not a new one rebuilt, but the old 
one in ruins : ix T fp* signifying the same as ex ruy 
$(*t\iw TB ma, and with elegance ; for Ipoy is the 
generic word, and signifies as well the site of a 
holy building as the building itself. It appears, at 
least, that Sozomene understood the word EX ra IspZ 
in this sense, from his making all the variation in 
Gregory s account from the rest, to consist in his 
assigning a different time ior the destruction of the 
workmen ; and from his express affirmation, that the 
* From pp. 110112. 

witnesses 



160 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT K TO [Book II. 

witnesses all agreed in attesting, that the fire came 
from the foundations of the ruined temple. And it 
appears, he understood Gregory rightly; who, in 
his turn, affirms, that the evidence were unanimous 
in attesting the fire came 1%. rx ?/>, by which he 
could mean nothing but the foundations of the ruined 
temple; because it was in that only they were una 
nimous. Nor, for the same reason, could Gregory 
mean, nor could Sozornene so understand him, that 
the fire came from the church, into which they were 
forcing an entrance. And Gregory seems to have 
w r ell weighed what he says ; for in this very place, 
he carefully distinguishes between uncertain rumour 
and established evidence. 

But, indeed, in every view, the learned critic s in 
terpretation is insupportable. The whole tenor of 
Gregory s relation, (which is in perfect harmony 
with the rest) shews that the obstruction began 
before they had laid the foundations. 

On the whole, then/ we see, this variation, con 
cerning the eruption, is as imaginary as the rest. 

M. Basnasje proceeds; and tells iis, there is a 
fourth variation, concerning this miracle of the Fire ; 
which is, that the Jews confessed, though in spite of 
themselves, that JESUS CHRIST was GOD ; and yet 
they did not cease to persevere in their attempt ; 
which (says the Critic) is a manifest contradiction. 

Though I would not call this a contradiction, yet 
I readily confess it to be a high improbability. 
However, be it what it will, the Critic alone is to 
answer for it. In a word, the charge is entirely 
groundless, not one of them affirming, or intimating, 
the least word of any such matter ; but on the con 
trary, plainly declaring that this confession of the 

Jews 



\ 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 161 

Jews was not till they had given up the enterprize, 
as desperate. 

The words of SOCRATES are these: "The Jews, 
" seized with extreme affright, were forced, in spite 
* of themselves, to confess that JESUS CHRIST was 
" GOD ; yet, for all that, they would not obey his 
" willy but, as men fast bound in religious prejudices, 
" still continued in their old superstition. Nor did 
" a third miracle, which happened afterwards (the 
" shining crosses) bring them to the true faith *." 
This historian speaks only of the Jews. 

SOZOMENE speaks both of Jews and Gentiles; 
and in the order here named. " Some (says he) 
<f on the instant, judged that CHRIST was GOD, 
" and that the restoration of .the temple was dis- 
" pleasing to him : while others, not long after, went 
" over to the church, and were baptized |\" 

TIIEODORET; again, speaks only of the Jews ; for, 
after having related the whole series of miracles, the 
last of which (in the rank he places them) was the 
crosses on their garments, he goes on in this manner : 
" The enemies of God seeing these tilings, and 
" fearing his hand, now advanced, might fall upon 
" themselves, fled away, and returned every man to 
" his place ; confessing him to be GOD, whom their 
" forefathers had affixed to the tree ;):." 



lascToi e tv piy ira <pou> ytvoptvtH, KJ axoiflf? up.o hoyuv Tor 
X%iro eov AfyovV ux. iiro utv 3e uvrs TO StA^a, c-.Xh tpevov ry TU 
laoono i/,^ tr|JoAij\|/i xgoiitytEm, woe yotp TO TfiTot SaD^a TO uripof 



?<. L. iii. c. 20. 

TOK (*iv atrtxa tx 6>? EOK t^ai TOV 
T-/J 



-/J a-votveum rti Kay, ot ^, ux elq ay.sctv m^oeri^evlo TV lxxA>]cr >u 
ivrAvtra.v. L. \. c. 2 2. 



t raura o* amdcci 9iflWui/AlM, jej ra? ScnXxra ? /^aryac opfuM.ffatles, 
?**** TC xj ra oUira xaJfXaCo*, EOV o^o^oySvlf; TC> VTTO -rui 

y j\ j} TUI %vha tzrfroc-yjXwOjyla. I,, iii. c. 2O. 

VOL. VIII, M Now 



162 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II 

Now let the impartial Reader but reflect, that 
this circumstance of the confession, is related, by 
each of the historians, as happening after all the 
destructive interpositions, which hindered the work; 
and he must needs conclude, that M. Basnage has 
given a false representation of their accounts. 

SOCRATES lets us know, in what their obstinacy 
lay : not in persisting in their project ; but persevering 
in their superstition. 

SOZOMENE mentions only their sudden confession ; 
and had he not opposed it to the lasting conversion 
of the Gentiles, it must be owned that, from him, 
we could conclude nothing of their obstinacy : but, 
as he hath so opposed it, we find his account to be 
perfectly conformable to the relation of Socrates; 
and discover even a hint in the words, x) juri a^o-OW* 
ry dvKvturti T ma, that they did desist on their 
confession. 

THEODORET is fuller than either of them, and 
explains what might be, otherwise, thought doubtful 
in Both. He marks the obstinacy of these, who 
(Sozoniene says) on the instant, concluded that CJrrist 
was God: and the despair of those who (Socrates 
says) continued in their obstinacy. 

Nothing can be clearer, or more consistent than 
this whole account of their behaviour. Yet M. Bas- 
uage assures us, <e They are represented as con- 
iessing CHRIST, and at the same time persisting in 
their attempt/ It would be hard to think it a 
designed misrepresentation : and still harder to con 
ceive how he could fall into an involuntary error, 
in a case so evident, unless we suppose he mistook 
the sense of Socrates expression, ax 7ro/av ^ aur TO 
SfAjijua they did not obey his will : as if it meant, 
they were not obsequious to this declaration of fiis will 

in 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 163 

in the prodigies ; whereas i\ypo<, is here used in the 
common theologic sense, of the whole mil of Christ : 
as appears from what follows, which, by necessary 
construction, is ex pla native of what went before 

^IAEVOI/ TYI TX IOTAAI2MOT 
ytzp TO rpilov 3\*u/>ta TO 



But here, perhaps, it may be objected, That even 
what we ourselves allow these ancient writers to have 
said, creates a difficulty, which will deserve some 
solution. " The Jews are represented as confessing 
the divinity of Jesus Christ, and yet persisting in their 
old superstition : surely a state of mind made up 
of very discordant principles." It is true, the ob 
jection will deserve to be considered : and the rather 
as it is not impossible but this might be all M. Bas- 
nage aimed at; though he missed the mark by a 
careless expression. However, the objection is so 
obvious ; and the account has, at first sight, so much 
seeming incongruity, that, I conclude, these Historians 
were well assured of their fact, before they would 
venture to trust it to the public judgment. And, 
when it comes to be examined, I persuade myself, 
the reason of things will give us the same satisfaction 
in its truth, which concurrent evidence gave them. 

If we admit these prodigies to have happened, in 
the manner they are related, we cannot but conclude, 
that those, against whom they were directed, how 
hardened and determined soever, must be seized 
with sudden astonishment and uftVight. Now, in this 
state, the mind, hurried from its oasis, cat.iies at 
any tiling which promises protection. Nothing there 
fore \\cis so natural as their applyii^ o n object 
offended , which, at that moment, could, be .bought 
no other than Jesus oj J\c ^areth. His power, t u, 

ai -2 would, 



1 64 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

would, in spite of all old impressions, be instan 
taneously acknowledged. This is what Socrates means, 
and well expresses, by saying, that, 772 their extreme 
fright, they were forced, in spite of themselves, to 
confess that Jesus Christ was God. 

So far every thing was just as the working of 
human nature would be, when not hindered by any 
foreign impression. 

But they must know nothing of its workings, who 
can imagine, that new and contrary directions, pro 
duced by such accidents, in minds warped by the 
strong attraction of inveterate prejudices, and hardened 
by a national obstinacy, could be regular or lasting. 
When the fright was over, the mind would return 
mechanically to its old station ; and there it would 
rest, especially if it could find, or even invent for 
its support, any solution of the phenomena con 
sistent with their former sentiments concerning Jesus : 
and these, w^e shall see hereafter, they might, and 
did invent. So that now we are ready for the con 
cluding part of the account, which Socrates hath 
given us of this matter. Yet for all that, they would 
not obey his will, but, as men fast bound in religious 
prejudices, still continued in their old superstition. 
He talks, we see, like one who understood what he said; 
That their hasty cotifession was owing to their sudden 
fright , and their fixed impiety, to their inveterate 
habits. All here is so much in order, that the con 
trary had been the unnatural thing. Had they told 
us, either that the Jews were not frightened into 
a confession ; or that they were frightened into a 
conversion-, the fact had been equally incredible; 
because, the first case implied the absence of passions, 
and the latter, a freedom from prejudices; neither 
of which agreed with them, as men or- as Jews. 
14 But 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 165 

But they relate, what was perfectly consistent with 
both, that their stubborn metal was softened in the 
flames, and grew hard again as these abated. And 
have we not many examples of the like behaviour in 
more modern reprobates, who are in the other ex 
treme of believing nothing? What sentiments of 
religion did we not hear on a late occasion of terror, 
where they were never heard before ? But what 
symptoms of sobriety remained, when the danger 
was supposed to be over ! The offended Deity, which 
they then saw dressed in terrors, was afterwards 
laughed at, as the phantom of a frightened imagi 
nation: and that good prelate, who was then so 
much reverenced for his pastoral care in warning 
them of the danger of falling under the justice of an 
offended God, was soon after pursued with a torrent 
.of abuse, as an evil citizen, who maliciously pro 
jected to fright them out of their wits. Now, if 
Free-thinking can thus keep its hold, when it hath 
nothing to rely on but the mere vanity of its pro 
fession; what must we think of superstition, which 
hath a thousand fanciful resources to support men 
jn an old habit? 

We come now to what M. Basnage calls the third 
miracle. And, concerning this, he reckons up as 
many variations as in that which went before. But it 
will be proper first to see how he represents the miracle 
itself. His words are these, their obstinacy gave 
occasion to a third miracle. For, in the morning, 
they perceived a great number of shining STARS scat 
tered over their habits. His authority for calling these 
marks, stars, is Sozomene : who, indeed, gives them 
that name : but, as I conceive, very erroneously ; by 
mistaking the sense of Gregory Naziau^jue, whom IIQ 

M 3 here 



166 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [BookIL 

here follows*, Gregory s words are, xalar^* w; 
wliich Bill i us translates, stellatus nimirum ipse notisque 
distinclus ; following the interpretation of Sozomene, 
who calls them downright stars, ^ rponov nvx A2TPA2I 
vVQt*i\u,v* rx t<rQt[Aotl* t?xp. liut I apprehend, that 
Gregory meant no ipore by xola r^^s than that the 
mark had a star-like radiance ; not a star-like. figure. 
And my reasons are, i . Because he had just before 
affirmed, that these marks were crosses; and, pro 
ceeding in his relation, he acquaints us with their 
quality, that they were xoja rspo*, or shining- A cir 
cumstance that v\ ould first catch the observation ; 
though, as we have shewn f , it may be naturally ac-* 
counted for. He uses the same term to express the 
shining feathers in a peacock s train TO -sflepov xuxAoJi^ 
vrepwa-ott TO ^ueratyW xj KATAITEpoN J. 2. So- 
crates, if he borrowed from Gregory, gives this sense 
to his words ; or, if he did not borrow from him, at 
least he teaches us how to understand him. His ex^ 
pression is rtyfe^tT&f r&upa AKTJNQEIAEI2, shining 
impressions of the cross. They were like stars in ra 
diance, but in figure they were crosses. Nor do 
Rufinus, Theodoret, or Cassiodorus, who all re 
member the crosses, speak one word of stars ; no, not 
even Thvoph >nes, who studied them well; and seems 
to have had the manufacturing of a spurious sort, in 
imitation of them. 

Thus much was proper to be said : For, though 
this difi ; ;;ence of figure does not in the least affect 

* It appears he followed Nazianzene from what he further ob-^ 
serves of their elegant form : ? a?ro i 
Soz. raa>j? IrtiflnKM 4 /T J < ? *^*> ^ ers^tpyu 

Tt? ti y .vtrat. N:-iz. 

f See p. 120, 6c seq. j Orat. 

our 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 167 

our reasoning on its physical cause, yet it much im 
pairs its moral meaning as a symbolic mark. Which, 
as Sozomene could not but see, it shews his honesty 
at least, in not concealing a mistaken circumstance, 
though it took off from the awful significancy of the 
impression. 

With our Critic s leave, therefore, we will call 
them CROSSES. And now let us see what he hath to 
object to them. 

He preludes his reflections wkh this oblique remark, 
These shining stars they tried to efface, but in vain. 
This is said to insinuate discredit on the fact, by an 
accession of the wonderful. But we have shewn, that 
the difficulty of washing them out was a natural effect 
of their shining quality * ; at least, a property they 
had in common with other the like appearances in 
later times f . So that this will stand no longer in 
our way. 

He comes to his variations, by which, as we ob 
served before, he sometimes means additions ; some 
times differences ; and sometimes, again, contradic 
tions. 

The jirst is the lowest species of a variation, that 
is to say, an addition. Sozomene adds, there were 
of these stars so art fully formed, that the hand if a 
workman could not have done them better. Sozomene, 
as we observed, borrowed this particular from Gregory. 
And if Socrates and Thcodoret omit it, it was not be 
cause they were ignorant of it ; much less because 
they did not believe it. However, such who know 
that nature frequently casts the mixed substances, 
produced by fermentation, into regular figures, and 
often, with that elegance of design which art can but 
iamdy imitate, will have no reason to doubt of the 

* P. 121. t i*. 125, i^6. 

M 4 truth 



168 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

truth of this circumstance, after it hath been shewn *, 
that the marks were entirely meteoric. 

The second variation is, that Theodoret deviates a 
little here ; for, instead of the shining stars, he speaks 
of black ones. Such as indeed more properly marked 
the crime and punishment of the Jews. These last 
words are slyly added to recommend the ingenious 
turn of Theodoret s addition : and to shew his Reader, 
that the Father knew how to invent with judgment. 
But to leave his justification to the nature of the fact, 
which we are just coming to, when we have observed; 
that M. Basnage should here have changed his Ian- * 
guage, and used crosses instead of stars; for Theodoret 
does not intimate a syllable about stars. It is true, 
then, he does indeed say, that the crosses on the 
garments of the Jews were of a dark colour IK 
fxsAaiW xpoias We have seen, that the matter of these 
crosses was of the nature of the Phosphorus, whose 
property it is to shine by night, and to be dark- 
coloured by day -)*. Now if one Writer were to 
describe their appearance by night, and another their 
appearance by day, Must not This say, they were 
radiant and shining ; and That, that they were dark 
coloured? And so much for his second variation. 

The third \$, that Theodoret, AT THE SAME TIME, 
crushes to death a great number who were fast asleep 
under a portico. The force of this objection, such as 
it hath, lies in the time. For as to the fall of the 
portico, Rufinus and Sozomene concur with Theodoret. 
But it is by no means true, that Theodoret says, it 
was at the same time. If we suppose that he observes 
order in this incident, we must conclude the fall hap 
pened before. For the series of his relation stands 
thus a portico fell by nighton the same night, 

* P. 120, f See p. 120, & seq. 

and 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 169 

and on the following, a cross in the sky then the 
crosses on the garments *. The truth is, the fall of 
this portico had a very sufficient cause. Sozomene 
plainly intimates, and Rulinus expressly says, it was 
thrown do vn by \htjirst earthquake which preceded 
the fiery e aiption f . 

We come now to what the learned Critic calls the 
great variation of all. 

Which, he says, turns upon the effect of the third 
miracle. For one assures us, that the Jews returned 
home as hardened as if they had seen nothing : whereas 
the other two pretend, that the greater part embraced 
the Christian faith. And that the news of their con 
version reached even to the cars of the Emperor Julian 
himself. 

This, I confess, is to the purpose; and, were it 
true, would be a considerable objection to the credit 
of their evidence. But the contradiction charged upon 
them is groundless and imaginary. He who (our 
Critic says) assures us, that the Jews returned home, 
as hardened as if they had seen nothing, is Socrates ; 
whose words are these : " The Jews, seized with a 
" horrible consternation, were forced, in spite of 
" themselves, to confess that JESUS CHRIST was 
<( GOD. Yet for all that, they would not obey his. 
" will. But, as men fast bound in religious preju- 
" dices, still continued in their old superstition : nor 
" did a third miracle, which happened afterwards, 
" bring them to the true faith They were hardened, 
" therefore, according to the saying of the apostle, 



x} O.VTU. & ruv lufeitn iffQvu.&)a. L. iii, c. -2O. 
| See pp. 129 131 , 



170 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

" and cast away the good which was then laid before 
" them V 

This, without doubt, is a plain assertion that the 
gross body of the Jews concerned in this attempt re 
turned home religionless as they carne ; without either 
their temple, or any holier worship. So far, therefore, 
is allowed ; and he hath it to make his best of; 
which, we see, he is willing enough to do ; for he 
takes notice, that the other two historians, Sozomene 
and Theodoret, contradict Socrates, and pretend, that 
the greater part embraced the Christian faith. 

This then is the point to be examined. But let me 
previously observe, 1 . That both Jews and Gentiles 
joined in the attempt to rebuild the temple ; and had 
both of them the stigma of the cross upon their gar 
ments, as Gregory Nazianzene and.Rufirius inform 
us f- Nay, from Gregory we learn, it was impressed 
on the habits of such oi the believers, likewise, as were 
present. And, indeed, but for this circumstance, the 
false miracle of Theophanes had never been invented, 
or at least had been differently fashioned : for he covers 
the very church- books and sacred vestments with 
crosses. And, what is chiefly worth observing is, 
that this falling of the crosses indifferently on all 
parties present, confirms the physical account we have 
given of their nature. 2. My second observation is, 



itfoar&t tv piyiTu <pu) ytvopevci, t oxotei; upohoyxt rot 
scy XsyovJf?. ax \Tto\vv St aura TO $fX/*a, aAA* iptvov TVJ TW la 
DrpX^iJ/u x^ara/xEVoV 3i ya^ TO Tpiro* a,V{*.c<, TO vrtfov 
$ Tsrif it T>5 ^Ay/o.sta? ^yv a.yT<j. iptTrupdJvTo un xoilot toy 

^ TO ciya^v Iv ^ f f^ v X^ < * pV 7 ^ 1 Socr. L. iii. c. 20. 

rt vvv ra l 



pvrat opu TE yx-Q rotvra tyf TK, sr y> TWF Q/bC^y, ctT 
&> Naz. Orat. ix. In acquennti nocte in vestimenti 
omnium signaculum crucis. Ruf. L. x. c. 37. 

TJwt 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. lyr 

That as Socrates records the effect of this miracle on 
the Jews, so Gregory Nazianzene records the effect 
of it on the Gentiles : For this Father having insulted 
and triumphed over their Mathematicians and Astro 
nomers on the subject of the aerial Cross ; goes on to 
speak of that upon the habits of the persons present ; 
and concludes his account in this manner: So great 
was the astonishment of the spectators, that almost 
all oj them, as at a common sign, with one voice in 
voked for mercy the God of the Christians, and strove 
to render him propitious with hymns and supplications. 
And many of them, without procrastinating, but, at 
the very time these things happened, addressing them 
selves to our priests with earnest prayers, were ad 
mitted into the bosom of the church *, c. Where 
we may observe the different language of Nazianzene 
on this occasion speaking of the Gentiles, from that 
of Socrates, who spoke of the Jews. The first says, 

rov ruv Xpjrtavwi/ ftKttXftAflVttxi 0f ov ; the Other, axoj/jfc 

w/AoAoTay rov Xpirov fov heMes. The G entiles implored 
the protection of the great God of Heaven, whom they 
had before neglected: the Jews were forced to own 
that Christ to be God, whom they had before 
rejected. 

This being premised, we come now to Sozomene and 
Theodoret; who, our learned Critic affirms, have 
contradicted Socrates, in pretending that the greater 
part embraced the Christian faith. 

I will give the passage of Sozomene entire. After 
these things [namely the earthquake and fiery erup- 

?, uq fj.iy.pu pi 



OC.VTOV 
aura. TUV Qvp&at,vluv Grpocc)fic. l u.oflot<; roTj ig 

re txx^>jcr*a{ ytntrQcu y-i^j $$ 
Orat. ix. 

tion,] 



OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

tion], another miracle happened, more illustrious and 
wonderful than the foregoing : for, on a sudden, and 
without human agency, every mans habit was im 
pressed with the sign of the Cross, The consequence 
vf this was, that some, on the instant, concluded Christ 
to be God, and that the restoration of the temple was 
displeasing to him. While others, not long after, 
went over to the Church and were baptized; and by 
hymns and supplications, in behalf of the guilty, en 
deavoured to appease the wrath of the Son of God*. 

As evident as it certainly is that Socrates spoke 
only of the Jews ; and Gregory Nazianzene only of 
the Gentiles; so certain is it, that Sozomene, who 
took from both of them, speaks both of Jews and 
Gentiles. 

He says, every mans habit was marked with a Cross. 
That is, as Greg. Naz. had said before, every mart 
indifferently, whether Jew or Gentile. He then men 
tions the consequence of this prodigy, not on the Jews 
only, but on the Gentiles ; /- TT* $1 And as it was 
reasonable to expect it would have a different effect 
on these different bigots; lie first speaks of what it 
had upon the Jews, that, on the instant, they con 
fessed Christ to be God. This is no more thaq 
Socrates had said. They only differ in the manner 
of telling: For while Socrates goes on to inform us, 
in express words, that the confession was not lasting, 
and that they presently fell back into their old super 
stition ; Sozomene contents himself to lead his reader 
to the same conclusion, by opposing this sudden flash 

r ETT* T&TV ol i^ .XXo %uvwi%fi-/i) Ta w^ols py 



TV) votvzuffti r vow* e , tm atj 

x^ jijurail K^ j;E<7ia? i/wlg ruv 
. Eccl. Hist. 1. v. c. 22. 

of 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 173 

of conviction, to the real and lasting conversion of 
the Pagans, as he found it recorded by Gregory. 
Others (says he) not long after went over to the 
church, Sfc. From hence it appears, that Sozomene 
is so far from contradicting Socrates, on this article, 
that he lends him all the support a concurrent testi 
mony can afford. 

THEODORET comes next. And him too the learned 
Critic hath involved in the same charge of contradic 
tion; but with much less pretence. For he, like 
Socrates, speaks only of the Jews ; and, in such a 
manner too, as if he had Socrates all the way in 
his eye. The whole of what he says is to this effect : 
The very garments also of the Jews were filled with 
crosses which these enemies of God seeing, and fear- 
ing^ that his hand, now exerted, might fall upon them 
selves, fled away, and returned every man to his place, 
confessing him to be God, whom their forefathers 
affixed to the, tree *. 

And now, what is there that can countenance M. 
Basnage in saying, that Theodoret pretends the greater 
part embraced the Christian faith ? Is not the con 
fession he records the very same with that which, 
Socrates tells us, so soon passed away in their re 
turning infidelity, insinuated in the very words, t& 
ml^ xarEAaCoi/? We conclude, therefore, against the 
learned Critic s objection, that, in this article, there 
is a perfect harmony amongst the three historians. 

But it will be said perhaps that, in clearing away 
this objection, I make room for another, that may 
prove more stubborn, and difficult to remove. " For 



* K.oti ctvTci ^s Toiv ittoccioJv lcrO/;^ca]a rotvcu/v i 
twQtot QtoccoifAtVM, xj T? Ss^aras ^ar*H*? 
78 > toe. olxu oi, xalcXaCop, -ytov oftoAoytvlEij TOV VTTQ TU 

|v*w ipfQ<7V)*uQi*lu, Eccl, Hist. L, ill. cup. 20. 



174 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

it seems incredible that so illustrious a miracle should 
have made no impression on the Jews ; and yet have 
had so considerable an effect upon the Gentiles. An 
objection, which seems to be redoubled upon one 
who hath affirmed *, that a Jew s conviction of the 
truth of Christianity must, on his own notions of the 
unity, be necessarily attended with a conversion : 
while that Polytheistic principle of intercommunity did 
not imply the necessity of a Gentile s conversion under 
the same conviction/ 7 

To this I answer, It is very true, that a- miracle 
performed before a Pagan, and not directly addressed 
to him, made, for the most part, but a small im 
pression on his religious notions ; because that general 
principle of Paganism hindered him from seeing, that 
the evident truth of another religion necessarily im 
plied the falsehood of his own. It was different with 
the Jew ; who, being a worshipper of the true God, 
must necessarily regard his attestation, by miracle, 
not simply as an evidence of the truth proposed, but 
as an obligation upon all men to embrace it Hence 
the apostle Paul, who best knew the different geniuses 
of the two opposed Religions, says, The Jews require 
a sign> and the Greeks seek after wisdom: ZQQW, 
the religious principles of their philosophy : in the 
chief of which was the doctrine of intercommunity. 

Had the Jews therefore considered this miracle at 
Jerusalem, as an attestation to the truth of Christianity, 
they must have embraced it. And to affirm they did 
so consider it, and yet not embrace it, would, it must 
be owned, be saying something strangely incredible. 
But this was not the case. In their fright they might 
call out upon Christ as God; but when that was over, 

* See Divine Legation, Book II. Sect. 6. See also Book V. 
Sect. 6. 

their 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 175 

their prejudice regained its hold, and drew them back 
to their ancient superstition; however it could not 
have kept them there, but that it enabled them to find 
a purpose, in this miracle, very well consistent with 
Judaism : and this was God s anger at their pro- 
phaning a work so holy, by consenting to put it under 
the direction of a Pagan emperor. This would be 
easily credited by those who had learnt from their 
sacred Books that an Israelite was struck dead but for 
stretching out his hand to uphold the falling ARK. 
When, therefore, they saw and felt these severe marks 
of His displeasure, To what would they ascribe it, 
but to their accepting the impure assistance of an 
impious Gentile to rebuild the house of the . Divine 
presence? For could it be expected (would their 
leaders now say) when God had denied this honour 
to the Man after his own heart, because his hands 
were defiled with blood, that he would confer it upon 
a Pagan, a Warrior, and a declared Enemy to that 
Dispensation; a zeal for which was David s great 
merit with the God of Israel ? We see, by the passage 
quoted above * from R. Geddliah ben Joseph Jechaiah, 
that some such reasoning as this, which a Father f of 
the church seemed to think did not want its weight, 
enabled them to own the miracle without blushing. 
But had they even wanted so pla isible an evasion, yet 
their prejudices would not have suffered them to be 
nice in a case where the whole of their Religion lay 
at stake : In such cases, they were not used to be 
delicate ; as appears by a parallel instance, in the 
* P. 87. 

\ St. Chry BOS tome, speaking of the readiness of the Jews to 
accept Julian s assistance, says, Ki * yo-xpwilo o fmafd xj 
aa^t;*lo taufcc uvSfa ctffiSuq t "EAArji^ rulra aT]f?, ac^ TO* 
/Liiafa? fcxEvy ;*</>$ xuhtirln; 7r* T^ T> f^ylut 0K0 $/*>. Horn. v. 
adv. Jud, 

bungling 



176 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

bungling solutions they invented to evade the conse 
quences arising from the miracles of Jesus himself. 
Sometimes they ascribed his power (as the Gospel 
tells us) to the assistance of the evil daemon; and 
sometimes again (as the books of their traditions in 
form us) to certain spells or charms stolen from the 
temple of Solomon. 

However, though the miracle at Jerusalem was too 
notorious to be questioned in that age ; and so was to 
be accounted for in the manner we have seen ; yet in 
aftertimes it was thought safer to deny it , though still 
by the modest way of an implication. Thus (as we 
have seen above*) R. David Gans pretends, that the 
miscarriage in the Persian war prevented the rebuilding 
their temple Nam Ctesar in hello Persko periit. 
Another of them invents a very different tale (for false 
hood is rarely constant), and pretends that a sly trick 
of the Samaritans made both the Jews and the Em 
peror, in their turns, weary of the project. But so 
foolish a story will hardly bear the telling. However 
the reader may find it below |. And in this manner 

too 

* P. 73, note. 

f In diebus R. Jehosuah Hananias filii, mandavit Imperator 
t Templum recedificaretur. Papus autem, & JULIANUS opiparas 
mensas praeponunt Juda?is a captivitate advenientibus (ad opus 
adjuvandum) ab Hako ad Antiochiam. Cutei vero sen Samaritani 
Imperatori asserunt, quod si Hierusalem restatiretur, Judseos a 
contribuendis vectigalibus cessaturos, indeque ab illo defecturos; 
quibus Imperator : Quomodo inquit, licet mini ab incepto recedere 
post mcindati promulgationem r Ad quod Samaritani, Domine, 
inquiunt, pracipe ergo, ut locum prioris Templi mutcnt, vel ut 
augeatur aut diminuatur in longitudine vel latitudine circa quinque 
cubitos, itaque, nullo cogente, opus destituent. Huic sententiso 
acquievit Imperator; atque juxta earn, novum misit Judasis man- 
datum in valle Bct-Famon aggregatis, quo audito, in magnum 
prorumpunt fletum, indeque furore perciti de defectione loquuntur; 
sed Magnates defectionis consequentiis valde perterriti, implorant 

a predict* 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 177 
too they treated the miracles of Jesus : for though, at 
first, they only tried to evade their force; they ven 
tured at length to deny their reality. 

On the whole, then, we see. That the inveterate 
prejudices of the Jews ; their obstinacy in the wroni: ; 
and their rttvv.smN to the Christian name, would hinder 
a miracle from having its proper effect upon them, 
could they but contrive either to put it to the support 
of their own superstitions, or, at least, to turn it from 
the condemnation of them. We see, the miracle in 
question might be thus evaded. Who then can doubt 
but they would evade it ? The consequence was, their 
continuance in error. The Christian writers tell us 
they did so continue. And we now find, They say 
nothing but what is very probable. 

The contrary effect of this miracle on Paganism is 
as easily understood. For though the principle of in 
tercommunity supported a Gentile against the power 
of miracles at large ; yet when he found one of them 
levelled at himself, as its direct object, the case would 
be altered. He would then feel the point in question 
brought home to him ; and the circumstances of affright 
and desolation (if, as here, the miracle was attended 
with any such) would keep off prejudice till reason^ 
had parsed a fair judgment. The Jews and Gentiles 

joined 

a prsedioto R. Jehosuah, ut populum alloquatur, eumque ad pacera 
adducere coiietur, quod fecit sequent! fubula. Leo a fmstulo 
ossis in ejus gutture iniixo admodurn afflictus, magnain spondet 
uiercedetn cuicumque molestum os ab ejus guttuie averruncarrt. 
Acctdit Grus, os averruncat, & mercedcm pent. Cui Leo, Jacta 
te ipsum, inquit, quod ingressus es in Lcoms os in pate, 8e 
egreMib t> in pace. Sic, fratres, sufiicit ut iu^ressi simussub hujus 
gentis potentate in pace, & egrediamur in pace. Hcec sunt Reresit- 
Raba vtrba fidelitt r transluta, ex fine cap. 64. Hoc uccidit anno 
ab orbe condito circa 4833, secundum R. David Cans in ejus 
Zemah David. 

VOL. VIII. N 



173 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book IL 

joined cordially in this project. The prime motive of 
the Jews was a fond desire to be restored to their 
country and religion ; but that of the Gentiles, a mali 
cious purpose to give the lie to Revelation. And, 
without doubt, the moral impression on the defeat 
would be relative to the motive of the attempt. They 
thought to dishonour the holy faith ; and they added 
new credit to it. So that a consciousness of their in 
tentions would add proportionable facility to their 
conversion. The Jewish evasion would not serve their 
purpose. At most, it could only make them waver 
between the Church and the Synagogue a state of 
no long continuance. Sozomene assures us it was soon 
over; In a little time (says he) a* i\$ ^axpav, they 
went over to the Church, and were baptized. 

But, before we leave this subject, it may be proper 
to observe, That general expressions, relative to par 
ties, and bodies of men, are not to be understood 
universally. Thus when the Historians tell us, all 
were marked with the cross, They do not mean every 
individual present ; but all indifferently, of every de 
nomination. So again, when they say, the Pagan* 
were converted, and the Jews remained hardened, 
They do not mean every particular man ; but the far 
greater number in either party. And thus St. Chry- 
sostome directs us to understand it, where he says,. 
that the Jews ,f or the most part, remained hardened" . 

It is scarce worth while to take notice, that what M. 
Basnage affirms (of Sozomene and Theodorct s saying, 
That the news of the Jews conversion reached even 
the ears of the emperor Julian himself), is as mistaken 
as the rest. For Sozomene says nothing of the matter : 
and as to Theodoret, his words are as follows : These 
things came to the ears of Julian, for they were cried 
* Tom. V. Orat. xlv.. 

ft 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 179 

up, and in the mouths of all men ; but his heart teas 
hardened like Pharaohs * : where we r r .c, by TOCVTX, 
he means the miracles. For it was not the conversion, 
which was in the mouths of all men, but the miracles. 
And Julian s resisting these, was what made his case 
like Pharaoh s. 

Our critic, having now well canvassed the evidence^ 
tells us for what purpose he hath given himself this 
trouble ; It teas to supply those sober persons, who do 
not believe the miracle, with arguments to fortify 
their doubts. But as if something was still wanting 
to so good an end, he resumes his task, and says, he 
mil add two observations more. 

Tbejirst is, That the argument Sozomene brings, 
to prove the truth of what he advances, is a very weak 
one. He appeals to the issue ; and maintains, we can 
no longer doubt of this long train of miracles since the 
temple was never finished. But (says the critic) has 
the historian forgot that the Jews did not obtain their 
permission till the time of Julians setting out for his 
Persian expedition, in which he perished? There was 
then little need for all these miracles, to hinder the 
erection of a building. Surely a sufficient cause of 
cutting short an enterprise of this nature might be 
found in the opposition of the Christians, who might 
take advantage of the Prince s absence in a remote 
region, his death there, and the advancement of Jovian 
to the Empire, who had an aversion for the Jews. 
Besides, the historian refers his readers in a va^ue 

** o 

indefinite manner to the eye-witnesses of the fact, with 
out pointing out one single person by name. 

Here are many things asserted, that will deserve to 
be examined. 



Tavra, IJXWO-E JMIX lwXia*o{, tactpet uroifluv yJb vjM* TU til <b etc six 
wtfvnt. L. iii. c. _o. 

x 2 i. He 



i So OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 
i. He misrepresents the matter, in saying that 
Sozornenc gives the unbuilt temple as a proof of its 
being obstructed by a miracle. To such reasoning, 
I own, M. Basnage s observation of Julians absence 
and death, $c. had been a good reply. But Sozo- 
mcne s argument stands thus: "The yielding up 
the place, and leaving the work imperfect, ipfals 
TO l^yoif Kul**ivoflsr t is a proof of the miraculous 
interposition." Now, it is one thing fr> see a Work 
unfinished ; and another, to know who left it in that 
condhion. From tlie first (which is as M. Basnage. 
represents it) Sozomene s conclusion would not hold j 
from the latter (wliich is as Sozomene himself puts 
it) his conclusion may be very fairly drawn. But 
to this it may be objected, " That, at the time So- 
zomenc made this observation, the two different 
representations amounted to one and the same thing ; 
because all that the reader could see, was a work 
-unfinished; and, for the rest, he had only the 
historian s word."" This our adversaries will allow to 
be fairly put. But they are not aware, that when 
Sozomene wrote, the face of things, upon the place, 
was such as was sufficient to convince his readers 
that the Jews and Gentiles were forcibly driven 
from their work ; namely, the marks of a desolating 
earthquake, and a consuming fire. Chrysostome tells 
us, these existed when he wrote 5- and it would be 
absurd to think that such kind of marks could be 
obliterated so soon after. 

Thus far in defence of the historian s argument, 
falsely represented by the critic. I proceed to con 
sider the false fact, which the critic has advanced, 
in support ^6f his false representation. He says, 
that the Jews did not obtain their permission to re 
build the temple, till the turn Julian set out for his 
. Persian 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 181 

Persian expedition. This he grounds on the words 
of Socrates, K^A^E* TKX& Kbfytfau TCI/ ZoXouw^ i/acV 
* auTOf ?rt n/<raf ?Aaim. Which the Latin translator 
renders, Solomonh templuw protinus wstaururi jubet. 
1 psc interim ad bell ion contra Persas prvfiqisciiur* 
But l-n\ n//><r? &KVVS does not signify lie forthwith 
began his inarch, as if it had been iir\ n^o-ac 
srof usjai ; but that die began the war against them, 
by putting every thing in a hostile motion ; which 
he might do while he staid at Antioch. And Amm. 
Marcel linus, who was, at that time, with Julian, 
and of his court, tells us, that the eruption whicU 
put an end to the project, happened before his master 
left Antioch. 

But the critic s inference from this will deserve a 
more particular consideration so that there was 
iil tic need of all these miracles to hinder the erection 
of a single building. Surely a sufficient cause for 
cutting short an enterprise of this nature may be 
found in the opposition of the Christians, who might 
lake advantage of the princes alienee in a remote 
region, of hi-i death there, and the advancement of 
Jovian, who -was an enemy to the Jews. 

I jenj are two things reprehensible in this inference*. 
). A false state of the case , 2. and a ground/ex* 
insinuation. 

i. He speaks as if these miracles were worked 
only to hinder the simple erection of a building lor 
superstitious worship; the error of Ambrose, takrn 
notice of above. AVhereas there \vas inucb more- in 
the affair. Its erection would have cofitradicted the 
prophecies, and opposed the declared nature of the* 
gospel dispensation. In the first case, there seemed 



1 82 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

no sufficient reason to interfere; in the latter, an 
interposition was necessary. 

2. He insinuates, that the real obstruction came 
from the Christians in Julian s absence ; from his 
unexpected death; and from the succession of a 
Christian to the empire. This, we see, is only his 
opinion ; I think differently : and had I nothing but 
my conjectures to oppose to his, here I would leave 
it : but, without betraying the cause I have under 
taken, I cannot omit to remind the reader, that the 
critic s insinuation is utterly discredited by the con 
current testimony of two unexceptionable witnesses, 
Ammianus Marcellinus, and Julian himself: from 
both of whom * we learn, that the affair of the temple- 
project was all over before the Emperor removed 
from Antioch. 

But there is still something behind the curtain : 
which, either prudence or modesty, made the critic 
backward to subject to the abuse of every licentious 
reader. But I am always for letting truth be trusted 
with itself: therefore, to disguise nothing, I would 
observe, that one of the strongest objections to the mi 
racle seems here to be obscurely insinuated. Whether 
he saw it in its full force may be doubted. However, 
here it is : and the reader shall have no reason to 
complain that it does not come with its best foot 
forward. I will suppose then M. Basnage to make 
the following objection : 

" That, admitting the re edification of the temple 
was both contrary to the words of the old prophecies, 
and to the nature of the new dispensation ; yet, as 
the projector of this affront upon religion was sud- 

* See pp. 67, 68. 77, & seq. 

denly 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 183 

denly cut off, and succeeded by a Christian Emperor, 
before any considerable progress could be made, 
there was no need of a miracle to defeat the at 
tempt; and God is not wont to make a needless 
waste of miracles. 

The objection, we see, is specious, and, at first 
view, will be apt to impose upon us. But let us 
weigh its real value. 

The case b agreed to be this : the two inveterate 
enemies of the Christian name conspire together, 
though with different views, to blast its credit, and 
dishonour its pretensions; and this, in a point so 
essential, that the religion itself must stand or fall 
with the issue of the event. 

They put their design in execution. The materials 
are collected, the workmen assembled, the founda 
tions laid, and the superstructure now advances 
without stop or impediment. In a word, every tiling 
succeeds to their wishes. When, on a sudden, one 
of the most common accidents in the world blasts 
the whole project ; a giddy headstrong prince * pe 
rishes in a rash adventure against a fierce and subtle 
enemy. 

In this case, what would the world have thought ; 
the world, which never thinks favourably of religious 
novelties; and which this bold defiance of the power 
of Christ had set at gaze, and made impatient ior 
the event | ? Would it not have said, that Christianity 

* The temper and character of this prince was so well 
krown, that, when he consulted the Gods about his fate, the 
priests were in no danger of discrediting their oracles l;v z 
mistaken conjecture. They told him he should die a violent 
death. This he himself informs us of in his lust harangue to 
his friends, Nee faieri pudebit, intcriturum me ierro duduru 
didici lido futidica pracineute. A mm. Mar. 1. xxv. c. 3. 

t See pp. 90, 91. 

N 4 was 



1 84 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book. II. 
was beholden to a mere accident; while the power, 
that should have supported it, was not at hand to 
vindicate its credit and reputation? And it was well 
if they had said no more. For the popular story, 
which the malice of the Pagans, and the indiscre 
tion of some Christians, had set agoing, that Julian 
&>a$ assassinated by a Christian soldier, would, in that 
case, have been enough to raise suspicions that the 
faith had been propagated, at first, by as indirect 
means as it was now supported. 

The Jews had twice before projected the resto 
ration of their tcmpk-worship : once under Hadrian ; 
and once again, under Constantino. At those junctures 
the attempt had none of this malice and formed 
impiety against the divinity of our holy faith. The 
Gentiles then gave the Jews no assistance or support : 
and it was in them a simple, natural desire of re 
turning to their own land, and of re-establishing their 
country-rites. But still, it being contrary to Gods 
religious economy, the design was defeated by the 
policy of Hadrian, and the zeal of Constantino; 
and these civil impediments were sufficient to cover 
the honour of religion. For, in these two instances, 
God s transaction was only with his church. He 
promised to support it to the end of time, and lie 
equally performs his promise, whether that protection 
be conveyed by the mortal instruments with which 
lie works in the course of his general providence, 
and whose blindness is guided by his all-seeing eye ; 
or whether it be immediately afforded by the sudden 
arrest and new direction of nature, irresistibly impelled 
by his all-powerful hand. 

But the case was different in the affair before us, 
lit re God had a controversy with his enemies. His 
power was defied, his protection scorned, and his J 

Godhead 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 185. 

Godhead dared and challenged to interpose between 
them and his servants. At this important juncture, 
to let a natural event decide the quarrel; and to. 
urge that as a proof of his victory, would be taking 
for granted the thing in question. For the affair was 
not with his friends, who believed his superinten- 
dency ; but with his enemies, who laughed at and 
despised it. Not to shew himself, on this "occasion, 
in all the terror of offended majesty, must have 
exposed his religion to the same contempt as if the 
very pinnacles of the new-projected temple had been 
completed. 

But this is not all. A PROPHECY, such as this, 
concerning the final destruction of the temple, is of 
the nature of a PROHIBITORY LAW. For God s fore 
telling a thing should never be, contains in it a pro 
hibition to do it: because that information is founded 
in his own will, or command ; not in the will or com 
mand of another: therefore that zci-ll binds all, to 
whose knowledge it arrives. This law came to the 
knowledge of our projectors, as appears from their 
very impiety in defying it *. But it is of the nature 
and essence of Law, to have penal sanctions. With 
out them, all laws are vain; especially prohibitory 
Jaws. Now these transgressors were as culpable in 
beginning the foundations, as they could have been 
had they lived to finish their work. Therefore to see 
them escape punishment, and safely and quietly go off 
when the change of times forbad them to proceed (a 



ot {.<.l> yotg tire IttoigMtf finStltf t 
TJJ? <r7ra^?, y^oXaiCo/Jif, }4fW0ai Kulo^zv rl 
rMfpi)<rtf. ol at, */. 
TO iigot. T>;y 

9ppfi)tftt hitiyxfir. i hcod. 1. in. c. 



change, 



186 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

change, which had nothing in it more wonderful than 
the death of a rash adventurer in hattle) must have 
argued, that God was no more concerned in the issue 
of this, than of all other natural events ; and conse 
quently, that these boasted prophecies, and this pre 
tended gospel, were the inventions of men. I helieve 
modern infidels would scarce have spared us, had they 
taken church-history at this advantage. 

But now, by a timely interposition, the honour of 
religion was secured : And, an exemplary punishment 
being inflicted, the reverence of his laws, the credit of 
his messengers, and the regal dignity of his Son, were 
all amply vindicated. 

While I am upon this subject, let me observe, 
\diat, perhaps, I might have found a better place for, 
that the forbearance of Jovian and Valentinian to 
revenge, on those forward creatures in power, the 
insults and injuries offered on this occasion to many 
peaceable and honest men, is no slight proof of the 
reality of a miraculous interposition. For it shewed 
the church fully satisfied that God had avenged his 
own cause. Gregory Nazianzene ends his Discourse 
against Julian with an excellent persuasive to forgive 
ness; wherein he exhorts the Christians to sacrifice 
their resentments, as a Thank- offering, to God : 
tft&i&fAc? (says he) TW rj y*j>iwpu>+. 

Thus having set this objection in the best light we 
were able, both for the honour of religion, and the 
credit of M. llasnage s criticism ; and seen to what it 
amounts : we leave it to the reader to make his con 
clusions on the general question. 

M. Basir- .^c goes on in these words, Besides, the 
historian [SozomeneJ refers his readers in a vague 
indefinite wanner to the eye-witnesses of the fact, 
without pointing out one single person by name. 

Objectors 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 187 

Objectors are often too careless where their random 
reflections will light. This will fall upon the Apostle s 
narrative as well as our historian s. St. Paul, arguing 
against some who denied the Resurrection from the 
dead, confutes them by the Resurrection of Jesus; 
who was seen, after he was risen, ofab&oejvoc hundred 
brethren at once, of whom- (says he, without specifying 
any one by name) the greater part remain unto thix 
present, but some are J alien asleep *. 

Sozomene writes a general history of the church, 
for the use of the whole Christian world : and speaking, 
in its place, of the event at Jerusalem, he concludes 
his account in this manner : Should these things seem 
incredible to any one, those who have had their infor 
mation from eye-witnesses, and are yet alive, will con 
firm it to him f. Of which number, if he himself was 
not one ; yet, at least, he had his account from one. 
In either case, this was proper satisfaction to a doubter. 
And it had been impertinent to add, that " amongst 
these were John, Thomas or Andrew of Jerusalem ;" 
obscure names, which would have given his reader no 
more satisfaction, than what his general information 
had conveyed before. But it may be said, that St. Paul," 
besides his vague account of Jive hundred, adds the 
names of Cephas, James, and himself. And so, doubt 
less, would Sozomene have done, had he either seen 
it himself, or known any that had, with whose names 
bis reader was as well acquainted, as the Corinthians 
were with Cephas, Jarnf^, and the rest of the Twelve. 
"What he hath dono was what common sense dictated 
he should do. But M. Basnage seems to expect in a 
general history all the circumstance and precision of a 



Cor. xv. 6. 



IT* 7a u tr<; liic;. . y. 

However, 



1 88 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

However, thus much we learn from these vague 
words of Sozornene, that he was not a mere copier ; 
but, to verity his story, went as nigh the fountain-head 
as lie could get. And this being the practice of these 
three honest and judicious historians, we need not 
wonder that one should mention tlds incident, and 
another, that, just as they received their information 
from the most credible of thejirst ear-ii.it nesses they 
could find then alive : \vhich too, by the way, is sufii- 
cientto take off all M. Basnagc urges on the head of 
variations. But had we taken his VARIATIONS from 
him, what, were he then ? An artist without the proper 
tool of his trade; for a professed objector never borrow 
ed more than this from the magazine of Quintilian 
ARTIFIGIS est Imenlre in act tone ackcrsani qua inter 
scmetlpsa pu-gnent, ant PUGNAUE YIDEANTCK. 

We are now come to the end of this long piece of 
criticism, uhieh concludes in these words : But lastly, 
Cyril of Jerusalem, who was at that time, Bishop of 
the place, and must have been upon the spot, since it 
was he, zvho, confiding hi a prophecy of Daniel (which 
had foretold, as he thought, that the atlcmpt would 
prove unsuccessful) encouraged and animated the peo 
ple to repose thtir confidence in God. Notwithstanding, 
this same Cyril hath never taken the least notice of 
these many miracles : and yet it certainly was not, 
because he was no friend to miracles : we are told he 
wrote to fynstantim the Younger, to Inform him, that 
he was more happy than hi* fat her, under whose empire 
the Cross of Christ had been found here on earth ; 
since Heaven, to grace Iris reign, had displayed a more 
illustrious prodigy: which was a cross much brighter 
than the Sun, seen in the firmament for a long time 
together, by the whole city of Jerusalem. Why now 
was that cross remembered, and all the.se miracles 

forgotten ? 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 189 

forgotten ? He assures the Jews they .shall see the wir;? 
o/ rtie cross ; and that it will precede the coming of the 
Xon of God ; and yet he says not one word of those 
which had been miraculously affixed on their habits. 
The silence of a Bishop, who was upon the place, who 
loved miracles, and laboured for the conversion of the 
Jvivs, looks very suspicious ; while, at the same time, 
those who do speak to it lived at a distance. 

The supposed fret, as here stated, concerning Cyrifs 
testimony, is indeed a material objection to the miracle. 
What shall we say then ? Would not any one conclude 
that this learned man, a real friend to Revelation, and 
faithful historian, had weighed it well before he ven 
tured to pronounce upon its consequences, in so public 
a manner? Who would suspect that he has taken for 
granted o?w. thing, which every body knows to be false ; 
and another, which nobody can know to be true ? 

He takes it for granted, that the works which now 
remain pf Cyril were written after the event ; whereas 
they were all written before. These are the Catecheses 
ad competentes, the Catecheses mystagogica, and the 
Epistle to Const antius : the two first bear date about 
347, and the latter in 351; those, sixteen; this, 
twelve years before the miracle in question. And the 
worst in, the learned critic could not but know it. 

If he had no intention to deceive by this captious 
insinuation, we must lay the blame on his careless 
expression ; and that his argument from Cyril s silence, 
when set in the best light, stands thus : 

" The pretended miracle at the temple of Jerusalem 
happened in the year 363. Cyril lived to the year 
386, so that we cannot but conclude, he wrote and 
preached much within that period. He appears to be 
fond of recording miracles : but he had peculiar reasons 
to celebrate, and expatiate upon, this. .It favoured 

his 



OF JULIAN > ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

his charitable zeal for the conversion of the Jews ; but, 
above all, the glory of it reflected much lustre upon 
bin;.- lie had predicted the defeat. Had lie the re- 

fore known it to be true, he must have recorded it, 
But the silence of antiquity concerning his testimony 
shews he did not record it. For to whom but to Cyril, 
die Bishop of the place, and then upon die spot, should 
the ancient relators of the fa*: appealed ? Yet 

he was not forgotten in the crowd : for they tell i:? : 
his iaith in the prophecy of Daniel* We must, there 
fore, conclude, that the event, whatever it was. had 
struck ^he good bishop dumb ; and that his silence 
proceeded from that sort c: ion, which we now 

adays see in the modester part of oar Recdatim- 
Prophets, when some unexpected event between the 
Turk and the Emperor has disconcerted the scheme 
they had chalked out for the direction of Divine Pro 
vidence. 

It win hardly be thought, I have not done the argu- 
meat justice. Let us see then what can be said to it. 

1 . Whether Cyril left any thing behind him (except 
what he wrote before the event) is not any where said. 
Some perhaps may conclude from Jerom, that he 
wrote nothing after this time : For, in Jerom s cata 
logue of ecclesiastical writers, the works mentioned 
above are given as a complete list of what Cyril wrote : 
and it is scarce to be supposed that any of liis writings 
should have perished between his time and that 
v : ;: .:. 

_ v ;il might write many things, and yet none re 
lative to this ankir: or in which he could properly 
introduce it. 

3. He might have given the history of it in all 
circumstances, and yet these three historians (to whom 
M. Basoage s observation is confined) not been guilty 

of 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 101 

of any neglect in not mentioning his testimony by name. 
Or if it were a neglect, it was the same they committed 
in pasiin* over .IT contemporary writers, Gre 

gory Nazianzene and John Chrysostome ; one of whom 
has spoken fully, and the other frequently to the 
miracle in question. But to this, perhaps, it may be 
replied, " That though they have not quoted them, 
yet they have referred to, and borrowed from them." 
How does the objector know that? From the hom&es 
of the one, and the Invectives of the other, now re 
maining. Very well : and for aught he knows to the 
contrary, had any of Cyril s supposed works been re 
maining, we should have found them quoting from, and 
referring to him; especially, as they relate several 
circumstances, mentioned neither by Gregory nor 
Chrysostome. Had Gregory s works been lo-t, 
had been as unable to know that they borrowed from 
him, as we now are that they borrowed from C; 

4. As to their recording the good bishop s prophetic 
confidence in the divine interposition, and at the same 
time overlooking his testimony to the miracle that 
followed, a very good reason may be given ; and such 
a one as does honour to their judgment. Cyril was 
singular in the first case ; and but one of waxy in 
other. They took, therefore, from him what no other 
could supply : and what was to be found every where 
(the testimony to the miracle) they left in common to 
the church. 

As to the objection, from the circumstance of 
C, ill s loring miracles, let me observe, that if it could 
be proved from a work of his written after 363, that 
he had neglected any fair occasion to record the defeat 
of Julian, the objection would have some weight. But 
in the total uncertainty whether he did record the story 
or no, it turns against the objector, as the circum 
stance 



193 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

stance of Cyril s loi-htg miracles adds probability to 
the affirmative, that, if he did write at all, he would 
find room for a subject he loved to write upon. 

(>. But since the learned critic hath been pleased 
tosjxvJv slightly of this excellent prelate, as if he were 
both iamtical in interpreting prophecies, and bigotted 
in believing miracles ; so much will be due to the 
virtues of a worthy man (how far soever removed in 
time and place), as to vindicate him from unfair asper 
sions ; due especially from us, as this justice to his 
character will be seen to reflect credit on the share he 
took in opposing Julian s attempt. There is a story 
recorded of him, for which every good man will 
reverence his memory. He had an ecclesiastical squab 
ble with Acacius Bishop of Ca?sarea, about Metropo- 
litical jurisdiction. Cyril despised so frivolous a con 
test; and refused to appear before the Palestine Synod, 
to which his factious adversary had delated him. 
Whereon, the Synod agreed to depose Cyril, for con 
tempt. But to give their sentence a shew of credit 
against so distinguished a personage, they added this 
crime to the other, that once, in a desolating famine, 
he disposed of the treasures of his church to feed the 
poor. This action, so becoming a faithful minister of 
Jesus Christ, fully shews, that, whether he had a right 
to metropolitical jurisdiction or no, he well deserved 
it. But the cr "ng part of this sacrilege is yet behind : 
it seems, that in the sale of his sacred wardrobe, a, 
reverend Stole, interwoven with gold, and made yet 
more illustrious, by the sanctity of its giver, Constan- 
tine the Great, came at length, in the ceaseless round 
of property, into the possession of a notorious pros 
titute, who flourished with it on the public stage. 

M. Basnage concludes his remark on Cyril in this 
manner : The silence of a bishop, who was upon the 

place, 



Chap. IV.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 193 

place, looks very suspicious ;* while, at the same time, 
those who do speak to it Heed at a distance. Admit 
ting the bishop was indeed silclft, How could this 
learned man, who for us his charge on the information 
of the three Historians, say, that those who speak to 
the miracle Heed at a distance , when Sozornene 
plainly tells us, that, at the time he wrote, there were 
several still living, who had it from the eye- witnesses 
of the fact ? Here then, for the silence of one man, 
we have the testimony of many.. But Sozomene speaks 
of none by name Who knows, then, but the bishop 
might be amongst the nameless? It hath been many 
a bishop s fate. However, the testimony of the people 
on the place is directly asserted by the historian ; and 
the silence of Cyril only inferred by the Critic, from 
his not finding him amongst the witnesses. 

And, with these reflections on the good prelate, so 
unworthy the learning, the sense, and the ingenuity 
of M. iJasnagc, he concludes his OBJECTIONS against 
the miracle. 

What follows is to shew his impartiality. " However 
i( (sa\s ht>) it O"u>ht not to be dissembled, that it one 
" of the Jewish Chroaoloiiisis maintains, that the 
" sudden and unexpected death of Julian prevented 
" the rebuild ing the temple; anothci of tirom assures 
" us, it was rebuilt; and tint when this was d;>:io at 
"a vast expcnce, it tumbled dov.ii again; aii J, the 
<c next day, a dreadful tire from heaven melted .dl the 
" iron instruments \\hich remained, and destroyed an 
" innumerable multitude of ihe Je<\s. This cuir/r. ion 
" of the Rabbins is the more considerable, as it re- 
" fleets dishonour on the nation ; ;,nd these gentry 
" are not uont to copy from the \\rilings of the 
" Christians." 

Here, it must be owned, he hath approved himself 
VOL. VIII. O indifferent ; 



194 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

indifferent: and if his arguments against the miracle 
be more ia number, than those Jor it ; the weight, at 
least, on both side" is equal. 

Not that I would insinuate, as if this Rabbinical 
testimony was altogether impertinent. I have myself 
produced it in support of the evidence * : and, prin 
cipally for the sake of that circumstance, which M. 
Basnage so ingenuously acknowledges That the Rab 
bins are not wont to copy jrom Christian writers. 

Nor will I deny, that this testimony hath its proper 
place in a religious History of the Jews. What I 
cannot reconcile to this great man s general character, 
nor even to that air of impartiality which he here pro 
fesses to preserve, is, that when he hath brought out 
all he could invent to the discredit of the miracle, he 
should content himself with producing only one single 
circumstance, and that, the least considerable, in its 
favour. Insomuch that if ever the conclusive testimo 
nies of Ammianus Marcellinus, Gregory Nazianzene, 
and John Chrysostome, should be lost, and this piece 
of criticism remain, the silence of so candid and 
knowing a writer as M. Basnage, will be infinitely a 
better proof that no such evidence had ever been, 
than what he himself urges, from the silence of an 
tiquity, against the testimony of Cyril. 

But, to end with this learned Critic. There is, I 
must confess, something so very odd in his conduct on 
this occasion, as cannot but give offence to every sober 
Reader. Yet I would by no means be thought to 
approve of Mr. Lowth s uncharitable reflections : 
which stand (as they often do amongst worse writers) 
in the place of a confutation. One may allow M. 
Basnage to have thought perversely ; because this is 
an infirmity common to believers and unbelievers: 

* Pp. 87, 88. 

But 



Chap. V.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 195 

But one would never suspect a Minister of the Gospel 
of a formed design to undermine a Religion into whose 
service he had solemnly entered ; nor, a man, truly 
learned, of a bias to infidelity : such dispositions imply 
gross knavery and ignorance ; and M. Uasnage ap 
proved himself, on all other occasions, a man of un 
common talents and integrity. 

A strong prejudice against the character of the 
Fathers was what, apparently, betrayed him into this 
unwarrantable conclusion : for, injuriously suspecting 
them of imposture \vhene\er they speak of miracles, 
he began with them where he should have ended ; and 
read their accounts, not to examine facts yet in question, 
but to condemn frauds as already detected. Hence 
every variation, nay, every variety in their relation?, 
appeared to him a contradictkn. And that which 
indeed supports their joint testimony, was by this 
learned man imagined to be the very thing that over 
threw it. But their best vindication is a strict scrutiny 
into their evidence *. This we have attempted ; not 
as an advocate for the Fathers, but an Inquirer after 
Truth. What hath been the issue must be ieU to the 
judgment of the Public. 



CHAP. V. 

WE go on with the remaining objections to this 
miracle, in which we shall be more brief. 

V. In the next place it is pretended, " That tins 

* Whoever will lake the pains of examining what the Fathers, 
and particularly Gregory Naziauzene, say of this miracle, und 
will compare it with their sentiments of the extraordinary re 
ports that went about, concerning Julian s death, will see cause to 
confess, that they were not bo credulous or so designing as they 
have been represented. 

O 2 fiery 



io6 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Bcok II. 

fiery eruption was an AUTIFICIAL contrivance of the 
Christians to keep their enemies at a distance. It is 
said, the Egyptians, from the earliest times, had the 
secret of mixing combustible materials in such a 
manner as to produce the effects of exploded gun 
powder : That Sir William Temple, Lord Herbert 
of Cherbury, and, an abler man than either of them. 
Sir Thomas Browne of Norwich, have dropt hints 
as if some of the greatest wonders, both in sacred 
and profane antiquity, were the effects of this des 
tructive composition; such as the thunders and light 
ning at the giving the law from mount Sinai ; the 
deaths of Korah, Dathan, and Abirain, in their 
contest with Aaron ; and the defeat of Brennus and 
his army of Ganls when they assaulted the temple 
of Apollo at Delphi. This too, they say, will account 
for a strong mark of resemblance, between the latter, 
and the defeat of Julian; in both which the im 
pending destruction was predicted ; in the one by 
Cyril; in the other, by the priests of Apollo*." 

The objection, we see, supposes full pcwer . and 
Opportunity, as well as profound address in these 
Christian engineers : for let them be as knowing as 
you will, in all the hidden arts of Egypt, yet, if 
they had not elbow-room for their work, all their skill 
would come to nothing. 

We will examine how they were bestead in each of 
these particulars. At this important juncture the 
Chiistiins were unarmed, and defenceless. They 
were forbidden by law to bear office ; and they every 
where submitted to the imperial decrees. But This, 
to rebuild the temple, was inforced by all the power 
and authority of the empire. And the project uas 

In hoc partium ceitamine repente antistites advenisse 
Deum clamant, fyc. Just, 1. xxiv. c. 8; 

no 



Chap. V.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 197 

no sooner on foot, than the place was possessed and 
crowded with vast numbers of Je\vs and Gentiles. 
Nor was this all. The Christians were driven from 
the neighbourhood of the holy place, hy their just 
fears and apprehensions. They had every thing to 
expect from this impious combination. For their 
enemies of both parties came in crowds to share and 
enjoy the approaching triumph ; while each strove 
which should exceed the other in violence and out 
rage. Insomuch that some, as Chrysostome assures 
us, absconded, and shut themselves up in /heir houses ; 
others fled into deserts and solitudes, and avoided all 
places of public resort*. So that \\hatever the 
priests of Apollo at Delphi (who had their town and 
temple in possession, and a good garrison to keep 
off the enemy, till they were ready for their reception) 
might find themselves capable of performing ; it is 
plain the poor Christian Pastors (their Flocks dis 
persed, and themselves absconding), were utterly 
deprived ,of all arms but those of Faith and Prayer. 
This, I think, may stand for an answer to that re 
semblance between \\&- predictions of Cyri\ and the 
priests of Apollo, from which the objection would 
deduce such consequence? of suspicion. 

But, let us allow them both will and opportunity 
to do the feat: yet still, I apprehend, every likely 
means would be wanting. Chemical writers, indeed, 
in their romantic claims to antiquity, have boasted 
much of the profound knowledge of the old Egyptians 
in the Spagiric Art: but this without the least proof, 
or warrant from history. The tirst authentic account 
\ve have of artificial Jire was an invention or dis 
covery of the seventh century. One Caliinicus, an 



xj T? *ypf i ^Evyoi. Adv. Jud. Orat. V. 

O 3 Egyptian 



1 9 8 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

Egyptian of Heliopolis, fled from the Saracens (who 
then possessed that country) to Constantinople*; 
and taught the Greeks a niilit.iry mischief, called by 
them vypov -srvp [a liquid fire], but by the Franks 
feu Grtgiois. It was composed, they tell us, of 
naphtha and bitumen; and was bloun out of iron 
and brass tubes ; or shot from a kind of crossbow. 
Wherever it fell, it stuck, and burnt obstinately ; 
and was with great difficulty extinguished. Some, 
indeed, say it was accompanied with a sound like 
thunder. But this is certain, the execution was not 
by the force of the explosion, but by a strong and 
continred burning. After this we hear of no other 
artificial fires till the thirteenth century ; when our 
famous countryman, Roger Bacon, invented that very 
composition we call Gunpowder. He specifies all 
the ingredients ; and speaks of it as a discovery of 
his oun. It was not long ere it was put in practice : 
For, in the next century, Froissart, and other French 
historians, mention the use of cannon ; and, as an 
invention of their own iLues. 

It is true, that when the missionaries had opened 
themselves a way into China, and were enabled to 
give us a more perfect account of that great empire 
than we had received from the straggling adventurers, 
who at several times had penetrated thither before 
them ; we are told, amongst the other wonders of 
these remote regions, of fire- arms, both great and 
small ; which had been in use for sixteen hundred 
years ; nay, these missionaries go so tar as to say, 
that they themselves had seen cannon which had 
been cast six or eight centuries before. But there 
are other, and more early accounts, which shew we 

* See Nicetus, Theophanes, Cedrenus, Couatantiu* For- 
phyro^enetus. 

are 



Chap. V.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 199 

are not to depend entirely upon these. M. Renaudot 
hdtti given the public a translation of two Mahometan 
Voyagers who visited the south part of China, in 
the ninth century. These Arabians are curious in 
describing every thing * are and uncommon, or in 
the least differing from their own customs and man 
ners : And yet they give us no hint of their meeting 
with this prodigious machine; and such must cannon 
needs he deemed by men unacquainted uith the use 
of gunpowder. Four centuries afterwards, Marco 
Polo the Venetian, a curious and intelligent traveller, 
penetrated into China by the North : and he too 
is silent on this head. In the next century our 
famous countryman Mandeviile rambled t Li then. 
His genius was towards natural knowledge, having 
studied and profess 3d medicine ; he was skilled like 
wise in most of thj languages of the East and West. 
This man sojourned a considerable time in China: 
he served in their armies, and commanded in their 
strong places : yet he takes not the least notice of 
cannon, which he must have used, had there been 
any ; and the use of so interesting a novelty be would 
hardly have omitted to describe. For he set out on 

%/ 

his travels in the year 1332 ; and Larry says that the 
first piece of cannon, that had been seen in France, 
was in 1346. Though Ducange * observes, that the 
Registers of the chamber of accounts t at Paris make 
mention of gunpowder so early as the year 1338. 
And Froissart under the year 1340 records, that the 
town of Quesnoy discharged their cannon against the 
French who made their courses to the gates of that city. 

In Glosa. v. BOMBARDA- 

f One article of which stands thus a Henri de Faumecbon 
pour avoir poudres, & autres chosea necessaires aux canons qui 
etoiem drvam Puy-GuUUumit. 

O 4 All 



200 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

All this, when laid together, seems to furnish out 
a very strong proof that the Chinese had never seen 
cannon till alter this visit of Sir John Mandeville : 
which agrees well with a known fact, That, about two 
centuries ago, the Chinese, in their wars \\ith the 
Tartars, were forced to take in the assistance of the 
Europeans to manage their artillery. 

But tliis fable of the ancient use of cannon in 
China is not to be charged on the missionaries, but 
on the Chinese themselves, the proudest and vainest 
people upon earth ; arrogating to themselves the in 
vention and improvement of every kind of art and 
science. They boasted, in the same manner; of the 
antiquity and perfection of their astronomy and mathe 
matics. But here their performances soon betrayed 
the folly and impudence of their pretences. It was 
not so easy to detect them in the subject in question. 
The missionaries, on their arrival, saw cannon, which 
doubtless had lain there for two or three ages. And 
of these, the Chinese were at liberty to fable what they 
pleased. But it a| pears plain enough, they were in 
debted for them to their commerce with the Maho 
metans (the only people on the Western side of 
India, with whom they had then any commerce),, 
some time between the voyage of Mandeville and the 
arrival of the missionaries: very likely, soon after 
their invention in Europe ; for Peter Mexia speaks of 
the Moors as having the use of cannon about the year 
1343. A probability very much supported by the 
confession of the Chinese themselves, in a modester 
humour, That though they had cannon from the most 
early times of their empire, yet, till the Tartar war, 
spoken of above, they were totally unacquainted with 
the management of artillery. 

Let this suffice, in answer to this wild objection, 

or 



Chap. VI .] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 201 

or suspicion rather ; the wildest sure that ever infi 
delity advanced to elude the force of sober evidence. 
An objection not only unsupported by antiquity, but 
discredited by itself. Inventions, which promote the 
health and happine-s of our species, have been olten, 
indeed, kept concealed ; and when at last communi 
cated have soon passed again into oblivion, hut the 
natural malignity of our nature would never suti-r so 
destructive and pernicious an invention to remain 
lonis a secret; or, when it was once knovn, ever to 
be disused or forgotten. So that if this kind of arti 
ficial tire was un early discovery of the Egyptian 
sas;es, it had a fortune which can never be accounted 
for on the common principles of human conduct. 



CHAP. VI. 

THE last objection, which is a little more plausible, 
is to be received with a great deal more ceremony 
and distinction ; as coming from the great Intimados 
of NATUKE, the secretaries and confidents of her in 
trigues. These men tell us, " that the fire, which 
burst from the foundations of the temple, was a mere 
natural eruption. The regions in and about the Lesser 
Asia were (they say) in ail ages subject to earthquakes, 
proceeding from subterraneous tires : and the present 
face of the country about Sodom and Gomorrah shews, 
that the land of Judaa, in Articular, had its entrails 
full of these destructive principles. r l he fire Irom the 
mountain of the tuti/;lc had, they say, all the marks 
of a natural eruption ; the same circumstances attend 
ing it which attend all natural eruptions, and espe 
cially that at Nicoinedia. Nor is the time, in which it 

happened, 



202 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

happened, sufficient to oppose to this conclusion. 
For these commotions cf nature being frequent in 
every age, it is no wonder they should sometimes 
fall in with those moral disorders, occasioned by re 
ligious contests, which are as frequent ; or that, at 
such a juncture, frighted superstition should catch at 
these accidents of terror to support a labouring cause. 
Hence it was (say they) that Jupiter Arnirion was 
made to destroy the army of Cambyses, when sent to 
burn his temple, and lay waste the country of his 
worshippers; and Apollo, to fall upon the army of 
Brennus, when he led it to plunder the treasury at 
Delphi." 

This is the objection : and I have not scrupled my 
help to set it off. For, besides the distinction due to 
the character of the objectors, I had other reasons why 
I would willingly have it seen in the best light. 

Several of the circumstances attending the event 
in question, and some, which have been generally held 
the most miraculous, I have myself delivered as the 
effects of natural causes ; induced thereto by the love 
of truth, and a fond desire of reconciling the fact it 
self, and the Christian Fathers, who relate it, to the 
more favourable opinion of modern Freethinkers. It 
will be tit, therefore, I should explain and justify my 
own conduct before I object to that of my adversaries. 

The agency of a superior being on any portion of 
the visible creation lying within the reach of our senses, 
whereby it acquires properties and directions different 
from what we hold it capable of receiving from the 
established laws of matter and motion, we call a 
MIRACLE. 

To ask, whether God s immediate agency makes a 
necessary part of the definition ; or whether, to give 
a miracle its name, it be sufficient that another Being, 



Chap. VI.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 203 

superior to man, performed the operation, appears to 
me a very impertinent inquirv. Because then are but 
two sorts of men who concern themselves about the 
matter ; Those who hold God s moral government ; 
and Those who allow only his natural. 

The tirst sort, the Religionists, must on their proper 
principles allow, that a work performed by superior 
agency, in continuation of a doctrine worthy of God, 
and lemaiuing uncontrolled by a greater, can be no 
other than the attestation of Heaven, to which God 
hath sei his Laud and seal. Because the permitting 
an eril Being to perform these wonders, would be de 
ceiving his creatures, who know little or nothing of 
the world of spirits. It would be drawing them un 
avoidably into an error, where they would be fixed; 
whir, is contrary to what the Religionist conceives of 
God s n-oral attributes, and, consequently, of his 
government. As to the Sectators of Naturalism, the 
specific qualities of a miracle never come within the 
range of their inquiries ; for, holding only the natural 
government of God, they deny, of course, the very 
existence of every thing that implies a moral regimen. 

Miracles, then, we may be allowed to say, are of 
two sorts. Those where the laws of nature are sus 
pended or reversed (such as the budding of Aaron s 
rod, and the raising of Lazarus from the dead). 
And those which only give anew direction to its Laws 
(such as bringing water from the rock, and stopping 
the issue of blood). For miracles being an useful, not 
an ostentatious display of God s power, we cannot but 
conclude, He would employ the one or other sort in 
differently, as best served the purpose of his interpo 
sition. 

Now, as it would be impious to bring in NATURAL 
CAUSES to explain ihejirst sort; so, totally to exclude 

those 



204 OF JULIAN S ATT ;r--PT TO [Book II. 
those causes in the litter, would he superstitious , arid 
both, infinite] ytftoni \V ho, icr instance, would venture 
to affirm thai the prolific virtue in the stock of Aa,cns 
rod contributed to the blossoming of its branch? Or, 
on the other hand, that the water which came from 
the reck at the command of Moses, was just then 
created to do honour to his ministry? In this last case, 
what more would a rational J eiiever conclude, than 
that GOD, by making, at the instant, a fissure in the 
rock, gave room for the water to burst out, which had 
been before lodged there by nature, as in its proper 
reservoir? And the sober Critic, who proceeds in this 
manner, does no more than follow that method of 
interpreting* which God himself useth in working the 
miracle; which is, to give to Nature all that Nature 
could easily perform. 

We are further encouraged in thus explaining the 
mode of God s interposition, by one of the most 
awful exertions of Divine Power, recorded in Holy 
Writ. But, previous to the story, the Reader should 
be reminded of what hath been observed of the order 
of the appearances both in the natural eruption at 
Nicomedia, and in that, we call, miraculous, at Je 
rusalem ; where, in each case, the desolation began 
with winds and tempest; was continued by an earth 
quake ; and concluded in & fiery eruption. The story 
is this : The Prophet Elijah, oppressed with the 
corruptions of the house of Israel, is commanded to 
wait God s presence, and attend his word. u And 
" he said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount be- 
" fore the Lord. And behold the Lord passed by, 
" and a great and strong WIND rent the mountains, 
" and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord ; 
" but the Lord was not in the wind : and after the 
" wind an EARTHQUAKE; but the Lord was not in 

" the 



Chap. VI.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 205 

" the earthquake: and after the earthquake a FIRE; 
" but the Lord was not in the fire: and alter the hre 
" a SMALL STILL voi- His cou ing to shake 

terribly the earth is here, we see, described, in all 
t!:e pom;) of incensed Majesty. Yet it is rcmaikable, 
that the prcc-.irsors of his presence follow each other 
in the same order of physical progression, in which 
nature ranged tirj several phenomena at Nicomedia 
and Jerusalem ; the tempests, the earthquake, and the 
Jirc: an order, the sacred Historian plainly points 
out to us, where he says, that God was not in any of 
these; intimating, that they were pure plnsicul up- 
pearances, the parade of nature, thus far suffered to 
do its office without stop or impediment : but th.it ffe 
was in the small still voice., which closed this dreadful 
procession ; intimating, that these natural appearances 
were / . / to the interposition of the Author and 

Lord of Nature. 

Let us apply all this to our argument; and consider, 
how a sober believer, convinced by the force of evi 
dence, would interpret the miracle in question. He 
would, without doubt, conclude, t mt the mineral aud 
metallic substances (which, by their accidental fer 
mentation, are wont to take fire and bur^t out in 
flames) were the native cont, the place from 

which they issued; but thdt, in all likelihood, they 
would there hive slept, and still continued in the 
quiet innoxious state \\ \vhi;!i they had so IO.VT re 
mained, had not the brcaih of the Lcrd awoke and 
kindled them. 

Lut when the Divine Power hud thus miraculously 
interposed to stir up the r^iro of these fiery elements, 
and yet to restrain thi:ir furv to t ie objects of his 
vengeance, he then again suifcred Uicrn to do their 

* i Kiu&sxi*. ii, 12, 

ordinary 



206 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

ordinary office : because Nature thus directed would, 
by the exertion of its own laws, answer all the ends 
of the moral designation. 

The consequence of which would be, that its effects, 
whether destructive or only terrific, would be the 
same with those attending mere natural eruptions. 

So far, indeed, one cannot but suspect, That the 
specific qualities in the fermented elements, which oc 
casioned the frightful appearances, though they were 
natural to enflamed matter under certain circum 
stances, were yet, by the peculiar pleasure of Provi 
dence, green on this occasion ; and not left merely 
to the conjunction of mechanic causes, or the fortuitous 
concourse of matter and motion, to produce. And 
my reason is, because these frightful appearances, 
namely the cross in the heavens, and on the garments* 
were admirably fitted, as MORAL EMBLEMS, to pro 
claim the triumph of CHRIST over Julian. For the 
apostate having, in a public and contemptuous manner, 
taken the monogramme and cross out of the military 
ensigns *, which Constantine had put there, in memory 
of the aerial vision that presaged his victories ; the 
same kind of triumphant cross was again erected in 
the heavens, to confound the vanity of that impotent 
bravade : and having forbidden the followers of Jesus, 
by public edict, to use the very name of Christians ; 
a stigmatic cross was now imprinted upon the gar 
ments of those who were seconding his impieties, or 
were witnesses to the defeat of his attempt. 

And, in these shining marks of vengeance, there 
was nothing low, fantastical, or superstitious. The 
impress was great and solemn, and corresponded to 
the dignity of the occasion. 

Another use of these terrific appearances (now first 

* Greg. Naz. Or, iii, Soiom. 1, v, c. 17. 

beginning 



Chap. VI.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 207 

beginning to manifest itself, as in many other circum 
stances of religious dispensation, produced in one age 
for the service of another, most remote) will further 
confirm our opinion of thcirjwal cause. The use, I 
mean, is their supporting the testimony of \\\e fathers. 
The crosses on the garments, to the men of that time, 
not apprized of their being meteoric marks, must ap 
pear a very incredulous circumstance: on \\hich too, 
(whatever the nature of the crosses was), the evidence 
of the divine interposition was seen not to depend. 
Yet ti\G fathers, with the utmost confidence, and most 
perfect agreement, relate this circumstance at large ; 
dwell more upon it, and glory more in it, than on 
all the rest. Hence I infer, thajt nothing but the no 
toriety of the fact induced them to load the miracle 
with a circumstance, which, they could not but see, 
was so far from adding credit to the evidence, that 
it would render the whole transaction suspicious. 

Thus much concerning these tico s&rts of miracles, 
and the different manner of treating them. But it is 
to be observed, There is yet a third, compounded of 
the other two, where the laws of nature are in part 
arrested and suspended , and, in part only, differently 
directed. Of this kind was the punishment of the old 
world by a deluge of waters. Now, if, to such as 
these, we should apply the way of interpretation proper 
to the second sort, Where only a new direction is given 
to the laws of nature; the absurdities, arising from 
this abusive application, would go near to disgrace the 
method itself: as That Divine hath helped to shew 
us, who ingeniously contrived to bring on the deluge 
of waters by the aid of an approaching comet, but 
was never after, by any physical address, able to draw 
it off again. And such disgraces are hardly to be 
avoided: for, in the second and simpler kind, the 

physical 



208 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

physical interpretation hath experience to support it: 
whereas in the third and more complicated, the artist 
must be content with an hypothesis. 

This was proper to be said before we came to try 
the force of the objection. 

i. It begins \\\\\ observing, " That the regions in 
and about the Lesser Asia were, in all ages, subject 
to earthquakes, caused by subterraneous fires; and 
that Judaea in particular had its entrails full of these 
destructive principles ; as appears even from the pre 
sent face of the country about Sodom and Gomorrah." 

If this account be true, as I believe it is, then 
Judasa was a proper theatre (as occasion required) 
for this specific display of the divine vengeance. And 
we see whyjire was the scourge employed : as water 
doubtless would have been, were the region of Judaea 
naturally subject to inundations. For miracles not 
being an ostentatious but a necessary instrument of 
God s moral government, we cannot conceive it pro 
bable that he would create the eK merits for this pur 
pose; but me tho^e which lay ready stored up against 
the day cf visitation. By this means, his wisdom 
would appear as conspicuous as his power* when it 
should be seen, that the provisions laid in, at the 
formation of the world, for the use and solace of his 
creatures while they continued in obedience, could, at 
his word, be turned into scourges when they became 
faithless and rebellious. The force of this reasoning 
is so obvious, that, had Providence been pleased to 
use the contrary method, unbelievers, I am persuaded, 
would have made that very method an objection to 
the credibility of the fact. However, though it seemeth 
most agreeable to what we conceive of divine wisdom, 
that it should often use the instrumentality of nature 

in 



Chap. VI.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 209 

in its miraculous interpositions, vet, let it be observed, 
the same wisdom always provides, that the Aatlwr of 
Nature be not lost or obscured under the glare and 
noise of his instruments. 

It is said, the region of Judea was, fr<*m the quality 
of its contents, much subject to earthquakes and fiery 
eruptions. If so, ho\v happened it, that, from the 
most early times to the period in question, there never 
was any unusual disorder in its entrails (if you except 
an earthquake, which Joscphus mentions as happening 
in the time, of Herod) but at the overthrow of Sodom 
and Gomorrah; at the destruction of Korah and his 
company ; in the days of Uzziah * ; at the Cruciiixion ; 
and on this attempt of Julian? How happened it, that 
this destructive element lay quiet in the midst of so 
much fuel, and for so many ages ; and only then, and 
at those critical junctures, shewed itself, when God 
had a contest with his enemies? Can any reasonable 
account be given of such a disposition but this, that, 
whenever God decrees to punish, it is his purpose the 
divine agency should be fully manifested? To pretend, 
they were all natural events, and the several coinci 
dences merely casual, is supposing somqthing vastly 
more incredible than what unbelievers would persuade 
us is implied in the notion of a mirads. 

2. But it is said, " This eruption from the foun- 
dations of the temple had all the marks of a natural 
event, l>ein attended with the same circumstances 
which, Anim. Marcellinus tells us, accompanied the 
earthquake at Nieomedia." 

It is very certain, the eruption from the foundations 
of the temple had all these marks ; and if our expla 
nation of the miracle, as it seems the most ratiotittl, 
be indeed the true, it could not but have them. 

* See Amos i. i. and Zech. jtlv. 5. 

VOL. VIII. P Whee 



2io OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

When God had kindled the fiery matter in this store 
house of his wrath, all the effects that succeeded, must, 
needs be the same with those which attend the ex 
plosion of any other subterraneous fire. What would 
follow, had they not been the same, but rejection of 
the whole story? which, in times so squeamish as ours, 
and so difficult of credit, would have passed for a 
fairy-tale. This consideration induced me to shew, 
at large, the exact conformity, throughout the process 
of the event, between the visitation at Jerusalem and 
the disaster at Nicomedia. Not but I foresaw the 
consequence. It is the least of an unbeliever s care 
to reconcile his objections to one another. I knew his 
first davil to the credit of the fact would be the won 
derful attending the eruption. I therefore provided 
against it, by shewing this fact to be similar in its main 
circumstances to tiie best attested relations of natural 
events. But I knew too, that, in case of a defeat 
here, he would not be ashamed to point his cavil the 
other way, and turn this very resemblance to an argu 
ment against a supernatural interposition.- What pit} 
is it that Ammianus, who best knew the full extent of 
this resemblance, was not more quick-sighted 1 lie too 
was an enemy of the Christian name (indeed, to do 
him justice, more fair and candid than any I know of 
the same denomination amongst ourselves), but so 
little sensible of its force, and so much confounded 
with the event, That, instead of telling the affair at 
large, which fell in so exactly with his detailed account 
of the disaster at Nicomedia, he hurries it over with 
the rapidity of one of the frightened workmen, who 
had just escaped the common desolation. 

After all, a general resemblance in the effects, is 
allowed. What we insist on is, the difference in their 
C.MSC or original. And this difference is supposed 

even 



Chap. VI.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 211 

even by the very nature of things from whence that 
general resemblance arose. 

Nicomedia, a city of Bithynia, was placed on an 
eminence, at the bottom of a Gulph of that name, in 
the Propontis. Now mountains thus situated, into 
whose cavernous entrails the sea may find its way, 
must, if other natural causes favour, be, sometimes, 
subject to fiery eruptions ; of which we need no other 
example than the mountain Vesuvius. But the temple- 
hill at Jerusalem was neither large nor cavernous ; nor 
was it in the neighbourhood of the sea : circumstances, 
which, all the world over, are wont to produce this 
effect. Neither were any new openings made, at this 
time, into the bowels of the mountain; which, by 
letting in air or water, might be supposed to ferment 
and inflame their combustible contents. The historians 
who relate this attempt inform us, that even some 
parts of the old foundations were left standing to erect 
the new edifice upon ; and in others, where the old 
works were little better than a heap of rubbish, or at 
least judged too infirm, that incumbrance only was 
removed. This appears from the relations of Socrates 
and Sozomene compared with one another. Socrates 
assures us *, that the earthquake threw out stones from 
the old foundations : which he mentions to shew the 
literal accomplishment of the prophecy of Jesus, that 
there should not be left one stone upon another. Sozo- 
mene indeed affirms f, that the foundations were 
cleared ; but then he goes on and says, the earth 
quake threw out stones. Now, as no new foundations 
were ever laid, he must mean with Socrates, the stones 
of the old. And thus the seeming difference in their 
accounts will be reconciled. Let me add, that more 
than once before, and at distant times, they had dug 
* L. iii. c. 10. f L. v. c. 12. 

p 2 deep 



2 1 -j OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

deep into this hill, to lay the foundations of Solomon s 
and Herod s temples: and then every thing continued 
quiet. Yet, now, when no new openings were made, 
the effort to build a third was followed by a fiery 
eruption. 

Again, in natural ferments- of this kind, the commo 
tion is generally very extensive, and runs through large 
tracts of country. Thus the earthquake mentioned by 
Josephus shook the whole land of Judaea; and the 
disaster at Nicomedia, as Marcellinus informs us, was 
occasioned by a tremor which went over Macedonia, 
Asia, and Pontus ; and did infinite mischief throughout 
its course*. The same historian tells us of another 
which shook the whole globe of the earth -)* ; and 
described by Jeroin J in these words, <f Ea tempestate 
" terrse motu totius orbis qui post Juliani mortem ac- 
" cidit maria egressa sunt tcrminos suos," &c. On 
the contrary, the eruption at Jerusalem was confined 
to the very spot on which the temple had stood ; and 
continued only to deny access to- such who, not taking 
warning by those whom it had destroyed, would still 
persevere in their impiety . A circumstance very 
different from common earthquakes and fiery erup 
tions ; and of which we have no examples, save in the 
eruption that destroyed Korah and his company ; and 
in the earthquake at the Crucifixion of our Lord ; and 
perhaps in that in the days of Uzziah; all of them 
supernatural events. 

Thirdly, in natural eruptions the fire continues burn- 

* lisdem diebus terraemotus horrendi per Macedonian!, Asiam- 
que, & Pontum adsiduis pulsibus oppida multa concusserunt & 
montes. Inter monumenta tamen multitbrmium acrumnarum emi- 
nuere Nicomediae clades, &c. Marcell. 1. xvii. c. 7. 

f L. xxvi. c. 10. I Vit. Hilar. 

fecere locum exustis aliquoties optrantibus inacccssum. 
L. xxiii. c. i. 

ing 



Chap. VI.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 213 

ins; till the fuel which supplies it be consumed, liut 
the witnesses to this assign a very different period to 
its fury. It continued just as long as the builders per 
sisted in their attempt, and no longer. At every new 
effort to proceed, the rising fire drove them back ; but 
at the instant they gave out, it totally subsided. This 
so terrified Julian, that Chrysostome tells us*, he 
relinquished the enterprize for fear the fire should turn 
upon his own head. And this made Marcellinus say, 
" elemento DESTINATIUS repellente" an expression 
of great elegance, to imply the direction of an intelli 
gent agent. 

3. In the last place we are told, " That even so 
critical a juncture is not to be accounted of: for 
that religious squabbles and natural prodigies are 
equally common; and church-artists never wanting 
to fit them to one another. Hence, they say, are 
derived those two notable judgments of Jupiter- 
Ainmon and Apollo, upon the armies of Cambyses 
and Brennus." 

The observation is plausible. It pleases the ima 
gination : and wants nothing but truth to reconcile it 
to the judgment. 

In miracles performed by tlie ministry of God s 
messengers, where the laws of nature are suspended 
or reversed, it is sufficient if he who works them 
shall, at any time, declare their purpose and in 
tention. But, in a miracle performed by the im 
mediate potver of God, without the intervention of 
his servants, in which only a new direction is given 
to the laws of nature, one of these two conditions is 



raturat, 

j> 0-7Tb^j ixMMjjr, JWa$ /* tfft^cttripu w^oiXQw*, ITT* T*}* raJIS 

aXtVij TO WVP, **r r) nr^fi^K /*iU TW i v 0>*$ -ara/J6$. Adver. 

Orat. ij. 

p 3 required 



214 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book. II. 

required to give it credit : either that an inspired 
servant of God predicted it, and declared its purpose 
beforehand, as Samuel did the storm of thunder and 
raht, the declaration of God s displeasure, for the 
people s demand of a king : or that it be seen to 
interpose so seasonably and critically as to cover 
and secure God s moral government from inevitable 
dishonour, as in the case before us. Without one 
or other of these conditions, superstition would break 
loose at once, and soon over- run the world : for 
bigotry (always in close conjunction with our natural 
malignity) would convert every unusual appearance 
of natural evil into a prodigy, and a punishment : 
but why do I say it would? It hath in fact done so ; 
and every age and religion hath abounded with 
tbese spurious judgments, by which human charity 
and God s moral government hath been incessantly 
violated and dishonoured. And yet an ordinary at 
tention to the obvious and rational conditions, here 
pointed out, would have prevented this mischief: 
for I know but of one instance in all antiquity which 
could embarrass the decision : and that is, not the 
expedition of Cambyscs ; for it would have been a 
greater wonder that an army should get safe through 
the sands of those deserts, than that it perished in 
them. The case I mean is the destruction of Bren-* 
nus s army before Delphi. Here, neither of the 
conditions seemed wanting. The priests of Apollo, 
we are told, predicted the approaching desolation : 
and the cause (which was the punishment of impiety 
and irreligion) appeared not altogether unworthy the 
divine interposition. These, together with the faith 
due to the best human testimony, which strangely 
concurred to support the fact, were, I presume, the 
reasons that inclined the excellent Dean Prideaux 

to 



Chap. VI.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 215 

to esteem the accident miraculous ; not so weakly as 
hath been represented by some ; nor yet with that 
maturity of judgment, which one would expect from 
so great a master of ancient history. His words 
are these " Brennus marched on with the gross 
" of his army towards Delphos, to plunder the tern- 
" pie But he there met a wonderful defeat. For on 
" his approaching the place, there happened a ter- 
" rible storm of thunder, lightning, and hail, which 
" destroyed great numbers of his men, and, at the 
" same time, there was as terrible an earthquake, 
" which rending the mountains in pieces, threw down 
" whole rocks upon them, which overwhelmed them 
" by hundreds at a time. Thus was God pleased, 
" in a very extraordinary manner, to execute his 
u vengeance upon those sacrilegious wretches for 
" the sake of religion in general, how false and 
" idolatrous soever that religion was, for which that 
" temple at Delphos was erected *." The learned 
historian, we see, takes it for granted, and he is not 
mistaken, that Brennus and his Gauls acknowledged 
the divinity of Apollo. Julius Cassar informs us, 
that the Gauls had very near the- same sentiments of 
the greater deities (as they were called) with the 
Greeks and Romans f , and the rest of the politer 
Pagan nations. And, distinct from his authority, we 
know, that their principle of intercommunity made 
their national Gods free of all countries, Brennus, 
therefore, was a sacrilege in form. But notwith 
standing this, there are many strong objections to 
the Dean s notion concerning the quality of the 
-disaster. 

* Connect. Vol. ii. p. o, 21. Fol. ed. 

t Post hunc [Mercurium] Apollinem, Martem & Jovem 
Minervam. De his eandem fere, quam reliquae gentes, habeat 
opinionem. De Bell, Gall. 1. vi. 

p 4 This 



;i6 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

This sacred place, the repository of immense 
riches, had, at other times, been attempted \vitli im 
punity, nay with success ; for it had been so often 
plundered, that, when Strabo wrote, the temple was 
become exceeding poor *. And if, amongst these 
several insults, there were any more worthy the divine 
interposition, for the sake of religion in general, than 
the rest, it was when the Phocenscs, the natural and 
civil protectors of the temple, plundered it of all its 
wealth, to raise an army of mercenary soldiers. And 
yet, at that time, the offended deity gave no marks of 
his displeasure. No\v to suppose, when several at 
tempts of this kind had succeeded, that the failure 
of one, though attended with some uncommon circum 
stances, was a divine interposition, is going very far in 
favour of an hypothesis* If it should be said, that 
the God of Israel suffered his own temple to be several 
times profaned (which Julian himself takes care to 
remember *f) and yet at last vindicated the glory of 
his name; I reply, there was this essential difference 
in the case, that whenever the temple of the Jews was 
violated, the evil was foretold as due to their crimes, 
and the people made acquainted with the impending 
punishment : and that now, when its sanctity was in 
sulted by a Gentile s attempt to restore its honours, it 
was in defiance of a prophecy which had doomed it 
to a final desolation. 

There is yet a stronger objection to the learned 
Dean s solution ; which is, that, had the defeat been 
miraculous, the interposition would have lost its end. 
For it could never have been deemed as effectuated to 
vindicate religion in general-, but as done for the sake 
of their false Gods onli/ ; the story informing us, that 

* vvi yi roi wmraloy sr TO iv AeVflcIV ^ ^v. Lib. XI. 

i See pp. 78; 79. 

the 



Chap. VI.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 217 

the priests of the temple denounced the coming ven 
geance ; and ascribed it to the wrath and power of 
Apollo * and his two sisters. So that this intervention 
would have been the means of fixing idolatry, and 
rivetting down polytheism upon the Gentile world. 

But what is still more, the circumstances of the 
times did not at all favour a miracle for the purpose 
assigned, namely, for the sake of religion in general, 
against impiety. Hie popular folly, in the Pagan 
world, ran all the other way. It was not ir religion, 
but superstition, that then infected mankind. They 
had no need of a real miracle to remind them of the 
superintendency of Providence ; they were but too apt 
to ascribe every unusual appearance of nature to moral 
agency. So that, had Heaven now thought fit to 
interfere ; we cannot but conclude, it had been rather 
in discredit of idolatry in particular, than in behalf 
of religion in general. There is hardly any need to 
observe, that the reasons, which make against God s 
own intervention, bold equally against his permitting 
evil spirits to co-operate with the delusions of their 
priests* 

Having, therefore, excluded all superior agency from 
this affair ; it will be incumbent on us to shew, by 
what human contrivance it might have been effected. 
For it must be owned, its arrival at so critical a 
juncture will not easily suffer us to suppose it a mere 
natural event. 

* In hoc partium certamine repent^ uiuversorum templorum 
antistites, simul & ipsae vates, sparsis crinibus, cum insignibus 
atque infulis, pavidi vecordesque in primam pugnantium aciem 
procurrunt: advenisse DEUM clamant; eurnque se vidisse disili- 
entem in templum Juvenem supra humanum modum insignis 
pulchritudinis, comitesque ei duas armatas virgines ex propinquis 
duabus Dianas Minerv&que aidibus occurrisse : nee oculis tan turn 
haec se perspexisse ; audisse etiam stridorem arcus ac strepituui 
arrnorum. Just, lib, xxiv. c. 8. 

The 



0V JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

The inclination of a Pagan Priest to assist his God 
in extremity will hardly be called in question. We 
#ee, by the round story of those at Delphi, that they 
were not embarrassed by vulgar scruples. They told 
their townsmen, they saw the God, at his first alight 
ing, in the person of a young man of exquisite beauty, 
ami his two virgin associates, Diana and Minerva, 
tvkh each her proper arms of bow and spear : But 
they did not expect the people should trust to their 
fye-sight -only ; they assured them, they heard, besides, 
tiie clan*? of their arms. 

So much for a good disposition : which was not ill 
sceomled by their public management and address. 
On the first rumour of Brennus s march against them, 
they issued out orders as from the oracle, to all the 
region round, forbidding the country people to secrete 
or bear away their wine and provisions. The effects 
of this order succeeded to their expectation. The 
fialf- starved Barbarians finding, on their arrival in 
Phocis, so great a plenty of all things, made short 
marches, dispersed themselves over the country, and 
revelled in the abundance that was provided for them. 
This respite gave time to the friends and allies of the 
God to come to his assistance: so that by such time 
as Brennus was sat down at the foot of the rock5, 
there was a numerous garrison within to dispute his 
ascent *. 

Their advantages of situation likewise supported the 

* Gallorum vulgus, ex longa inopia, ubi primum vino cacte- 
vi.qe commeatibus referta rura invenit, non minus abundantly, 
quam victoria Upturn, per agros se sparserat; desertisque signis, 
ad occupanda omnia pro victoribus vagabantur. Qua? res dila- 
tionem Delphis dedit. Privna namque opinione adventus Gallorum 
prohibit! agrestes oraulis feruntur meases, vinaque villis efferre. 
Salutare prajceptum velut mora Gallis objecta. auxilia finitimo- 
ruin convene re. Justin, lib. xxiv. c. 7. 

measures 



Chap. VI.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 219 

measures they had taken for a vigorous defence. The 
tou n and temple of Delphi were seated on a bare and 
cavernous rock ; defended, on all sules, with precipices, 
instead of walls. The large recess within assumed the 
form of a theatre : so that the shouts of soldiers, &nd 
the sounds of military instruments, re-echoing from 
rock to rock, and from cavern to cavern, increased 
the clamour to an immense degree. Which, as the 
historian observes, could not bat have great effects on 
ignorant and barbarous minds*. 

The playing off these punic terrors was not indeed 
sufficient of itself to repel and dissipate a host of fierce 
and hung; v invaders ; but it enabled the defenders of 
the place to keep them at bay, till a more solid enter 
tainment was provided for them. I mean the explosion, 
and fall of that portion of the rock, at the foot of which 
the greater part of tiie army lay encamped. 

For, the town and temple, as we observed, were 
seated on a bare and hollow rock ; which would here 
and there afford vent-holes for such fumes as generated 
within to transpire. One of these, from an intoxicating 
quality, discovered in the strain which issued at it, was 
rendered very famous, by being fitted to the recipient 
of the priestess of Apollo f . Now if we only suppose 

this, 

* Templum & Civiutem non muri, seel pnecipitia; non manu 
facta, sed naiuralia praesidia defendant ; prorsus ut incertum sit, 
utrum mimimentum loci, an ni.ijostas Dei plus hie admirationis 
habeat. Media saxi rupes in formam theatri recessit. Quam- 
obrem & hominum clamor, & si quando accedit tubarum sonus, 
personantibus & respondentibus inter se rupibus, multiplex audiri, 
ampliorque quam cditur, resonare solet. Quae res majorem majes- 
tatis terrorem ignaris rei, & admirationem stupentibus plerumque 
affert. Just. 1. xxiv. c. 6. 



i ^fot n iyinotlo VTTO ru ur^u, xj ipetv\tvcra.v\o \$- AwoAXc**-. Pausan. 
Phoc. C. V fottr* Sf tlvu.1 TO (A.avlt~ov, eiflpov KoThor xara &t0a?, tf 
xtyi^p^m o i% avra Grvivpct lt>Qucru>irix.ov. Strabo, 

Geogr. 



220 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book IT. 

this, or any other of the vapours, emitted from the 
fissures, in so large and cavernous a rock, to be endow 
ed with that unctuous or otherwise inflammable quality 
which modern experience shews us to be common in 
mines and -ubttrrarieous places, we can easily conceive 
how the priests of the temple might, without a miracle, 
he able to w r ; : the wonders which history speaks of as 
effected in this transaction. For the throwing doun a 
lighted torch or two into a chasm, from whence such 
s vapour issued, would set the whole into a flame ; 
which, by rarifying and dilating the inclosed air, would, 
like iired gunpowder, blow up all before it. These 
eiFects are so known and dreaded in coal-mines, subject 
to inflammable vapours, that, in some of them, in the 
uorth of this kingdom, instead of lamps or candles, 
which would be fatal, the workmen are obliged to have 
recourse to a very extraordinary contrivance to give 
them light, which is the application of a flint to a steel 
cylinder in motion. And we cannot suppose the priests, 
the guardians of the rock, could be long ignorant of 
such a quality ; which either chance or designed ex 
periments might bring to their acquaintance : or that 
they would divulge it when they had discovered it. I 
am even inclined to think, they had the art of mana 
ging this quality at pleasure; so as to produce a greater 
or less effect, as their occasions required. It is certain, 
otrabo relates *, that one Onomarchus with his com 

panions, 

Hpogr. l.ix. In hoc rupis anfractu, media ferme mentis altitudine, 
planities exigua est, atque in ea proiundum terra: foramen, quod 
m oracula p.itct : tx quo frigidus spiritus, vi quadam velut vento 
in sublime expulsus, inentes Vatum in vecordiam vertit, imple- 
taaque Deo, rebponsa consulcntibus dare cogit. Just. lib. xxiv. 
c. 6. 



* 



iI* dt icj TO?; aA>.o*$ ^ctoo> TV? TayTj$ \iti x J ufiaiv$ Striib. 

Gtogr. lib. ix. 



Chap. VI.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 221 

panions, as they were attempting by night to dig their 
way through to rob the holy treasury, were frightened 
from their work by the violent shaking of the. rock : 
and he adds, that the same phenomenon had defeated 
many other attempts of the like nature. Now whether 
the tapers which Onomarchus and his companions 
were obliged to use while they were at work, inflamed 
the vapour, or whether the priests of Apollo heard 
them at it, and set fire to a countermine, it is cer 
tain, a quality of this kind would always stand them 
in stead. 

Such then, I presume, was the expedient they em 
ployed to dislodge this nest of hornets, which had 
settled at the foot of their sacred rock. 

It is further remarkable that this explosion \va.~ 
followed (as it was likely it should) by an event of as 
much terror and affright, a storm of thunder, lightning* 
and hall ; which these violent concussions of the air 
physically generate. For Justin assures us*, the tem 
pest did not happen till after the fall of the rock ; 
though the Dean, we see, makes them operate 
together. 

But what, after all, if these Barbarians were some 
thing less unfortunate than the Priests of Apollo would 
have us think them ; and had got a considerable bootv 
before they fell into this disgrace? Strabo tells an odd 
story f of the Roman General Caepio s rinding a vast 
treasure at Tolose, supposed to be part ot the richer 
which its inhabitants, the Tectosages, had brought 

* Imecuta dcmde tempestas est, quae granduie & frigore saucios 
x vulneribus absumpsit. L. xxiv. c. 8. 



Tt W<XVptf? Ttf? 0fdma$ TffCt,^ UVTol St D7TO 

^ TUV *Pvf*.aiuv iv IB fan 
<f>oc,<ri iCfoffdtl von <tt TW? 
L. 1Y. 

borne 



222 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

home from this very expedition against the Delphic 
God. It would almost make one suspect, that the 
priests, before they came to extremities with the sa 
cred rock, had entered into treaty with these Barba 
rians, and paid them a large tribute to decamp and 
quit the country; which possibly they might receive 
with the same good faith that their countrymen, in a 
like expedition, weighed out the Roman gold, before 
the capitol ; and so necessitate the Delphians to send 
down the rock upon them to clear accounts; just as, 
in the other instance, Camillus revenged their extortion 
in Italy. What seerns to strengthen our conjecture 
is, that the Tectosages, in order to appease the offended 
Deity, had consecrated this treasure to holy uses, 
with an addition of their own. Nor does it take 
from the credit of the story, that all which the pene 
trating Strabo hath to oppose is the ill success of 
Brennus and his followers, as we find it related in the 
common histories of the expedition. If this were the 
case, the pretended miracle shrinks into a very slender 
kind of prodigy. 

However, the account given above seems, on the 
whole, to be the true solution of this extraordinary 
event. It is easy and natural; and the cause fully 
equal to the effect. But my chief reason for being 
so explicit, was, to add still further support to our 
general conclusion ; as the detail would shew, that all 
the main circumstances in the destruction at Delphi, 
and in that at Jerusalem, were essentially different. 

The rock on which Delphi stood, was exactly fitted 
for such a contrivance : The mountain at Jerusalem, 
by its compactness and continuity, altogether im 
proper. The easy object of Apollo s resentment was 
a rabble of half-starved and half-intoxicated Barba 
rians : The object of the resentment of the God of 

Israel 



Chap. VI.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 

Israel was a select number of the politest, joined to 
the craftiest, people upon earth, detached to support 
a project, which the ablest artists of all kinds were 
assembled to put in execution. The priexts of Apoliu 
were masters of the town and temple, and supported 
by a powerful garrison : Both the priests and people 
of the God of Israel were dispersed, and had left the 
place free and open to their enemies. 

But the principal difference lay in the grounds and 
reasons of the thing. By which I do not mean, that 
one event was supposed to be the agency of a God of 
the Greeks, and the other of the God of the Jen:*; 
For, who was the true, and who the false, God, the 
Gentlemen, with whom we are concerned, seem willing 
should remain undetermined. The difference lay ii* 
this, That the interposition of the Delphic Cod was u* 
save the treasures of his priests ; which he had, at 
other times, and on more flagitious terms, suffered to 
be violated. But the interposition of the Lord <</ 
Hosts was to save the Jionour of his name, \vhida jit 
hath never since suffered to be impeached by niaii^r 
or impiety, throughout a course of fourteen hundred 
years. Or, in other words, to defend the gener.u} 
system of revelation from being forcibly borne dou t? 
by the whole power of the Roman empire, lor 
attempt to re-establish the Jewish worship was pro? 
fessedly and publicly to give the lie to the prop/t 
on which Christianity was founded, that is, to the (V(>// 
of Heaven himself: the most important occasion 
can conceive of exerting his power, as including in il 
a NECESSITY to exert it. But more of this, when I 
come, hereafter, to speak of the nature of that ei i- 
dence which demand* the assent of every reawnublt 
man to a miraculous j act. 

However, it may not be amiss at present, so fur 

D 



224 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

to forestall that inquiry, as, by way of specimen, to 
say one word of a particular hitherto untouched, the 
specific nature of this supernatural event. A circum 
stance which seems greatly to confirm and illustrate 
all that hath been said. I have observed, that the 
end or purpose of it was twofold : i . To support the 
economy of God s dispensation *. And, ZrToJtttPush 
the impiety of those who attempted to disturb it f . As 
in order to evince the first end or purpose, I have 
shewn J, that the attempt aimed to falsify the prophecy, 
which had foretold the tinal destruction of the temple ; 
so, in order to evince the second, I shall now shew, 
that this disaster was the very specific punishment, 
which, the prophet Isaiah informs the Jews, was re- 
served and kept in store, to he the scourge for impiety 
and rebellion. Tnis seems to be considerable, and 
of moment. For where, as in the extraordinary dis 
pensations to this people, the specific punishments, 
which, from time to time, were reserved, by God s 
decree, for their chastisement, had been marked out, 
and set before them ; it is reasonable to expect, that, 
when a supernatural punishment was so inflicted, it 
would be by the agency of such a specific disaster as 
was foretold would be attendant on the crime. Now 
this, we . say, was exactly the case in the affair before 
us. The prophet describes the punishment, reserved 
for the obstinacy and impiety of the Jewish people, 
in these words, Thou shait be visited of the Lord of 
Hosts zcitk THUNDER, and with EARTHQUAKE, and 
great noise, with STORM AND TEMPEST, and the 

FLAME OF DEVOURING F1IIE. 

Here we see the denunciation and execution are so 
wonderfully coincident, that one might be well excused 

* See Book i. c. i. -\ See p 185. 
J See Book i, c. 3. Isa. xxlx. 6. 

in 



Chap. VI] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 225 

in going a little further, and even supposing the words 
here quoted to be a particular prophesy of the disaster 
in question. And our conjecture would receive fur 
ther countenance from this important circumstance, 
that the immediate preceding verses are an undoubted 
prophesy of the total destruction of Jerusalem by 
Titus. JFoe to Ariel, to Ariel the city where David 
dwelt / will camp against thce round about, and will 
lay siege against thee with a mount > and will raise 
forts against thce. And then shall be brought down^ 
andshalt speak out of the ground, and thy speech shall 
be low out of the dust yea, it shall be at an instant, 
suddenly *. However this be ; so much, at least, is 
certain, That had a writer described this disaster after 
the event, and copied from it, he could not have given 
a more exact and faithful picture ,of it than the prophet 
Isaiah hath here done. 

But it is now time to turn to our mathematician ; 
and request him to prepare his tables of calculation ; 
if for no other purpose than to gratify our curiosity in 
the doctrine of chances. When he is ready, let us 
know, how many millions to one are the odds against 
a natural eruptions securing the honour of the Chris 
tian Religion, at that very important juncture wheq 
God s omnipotence was thus openly defied ; and not 
by this or that crack-brained atheist, but by all the 
powers of the world combined against it. Let him 
add these other circumstances, that the mountain of 
the temple was, both from its frame and situation, 
most unlikely to be the scene of a physical erupt um: 
and that this eruption was confined, contrary to its 
usual nature, to that very spot of ground : and then 
see how these will increase the odds. But his task is 
but begun ; he must reckon another circumstance, the 

* Ver. 3, 4, 5. confer this with Matt, xxiv. 17, 18. 

VOL. VIII. Q fire s 



226 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book I!. 

fire s obstinately breaking out by fits, as often as they 
attempted to proceed; and its total extinction on their 
giving up the enterprize : let him, I say, add this to 
the account, and see how it will then stand. To these, 
too, he must join the phenomena of the cross in the 
air, and on the garments ; AY Inch will open a new ca 
reer to his calculations. And further, to inflame the 
reckoning, he may take notice, that history speaks but 
of one other commotion confined to the intrails of this 
hill, which likewise happened at a very critical junc 
ture, the crucijirion of our Lord, when the vatloftte 
temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom, 
and the earth did quake, and the rocks rent *. Lastly, 
he may reflect, if he pleases, that all these odds lie on 
the side of a divine interposition to hinder an attempt, 
which a space of fourteen hundred years hath never 
seen revived ; though the project itself (the restoration 
of one of the most celebrated temples in the world) 
is in its nature most alluring to superstition : and 
though the long imbecilities of religion and govern 
ment, in the various revolutions there undergone, have 
afforded ample opportunity 10 a rich and crafty people 
to effect what was the only means of wiping out their 
opprobrium, and redeeming them from universal 
fc . contempt. He must, I say, take in all this before 
he sums up the account. And then, if he be ingenuous, 
without doubt he will confess, that to compute the 
immensity of these odds will exceed all the powers of 
number. 

To speak freely, The attempt to account for it by 

a natural cause is a wretched evasion. Let us consider 

in how different a manner unbelievers are wont to 

treat those parallel miracles, The bursting of water 

from the, rock at the command of Moses ; and, cfjire 

* Matt, xxvii. 51. 

from 



Cha ? . VI.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 227 

from the earth to punish the rebellion of Korah. No 
man was ever so wild to charge these facts to the ac 
count of natural causes. And yet, the sudden gushing 
out of water from a rock is certainly a commoner 
thing than a burning mountain. .But the reason of 
their reserve, in these instances, is plain; they had 
other causes at hand, besides natural events, to exclude 
a miracle ; such as human artifice and contrivance ; 
the uncert linty of very early history, c. But, in the 
eruption from the foundations of the temple, the fact 
was so we ll circumstanced, that an objector found 
nothing else left to trade with but this last miserable 
shift: which, when all other means fail, is still at 
hand to keep back that bugbear to impiety, GOD S 
MOU A L GOVERN M EX T, which government, together with 
REVEALED RELIGION, founaed on it, are (to observe 
it by the way) as compleatly exhibited by one miracu 
lous interposition, fully proved, as by one hundred. 

In support of all that hath been said, give me leave 
to observe, That the contemporary evidence, who, 
from their more intimate knowledge of the fact, must 
needs be allowed the best judges of its nature in ge 
neral, give no intimation that they themselves thought, 
or that others suspected it to be a natural event. Ju 
lian, indeed, to hide his confusion, insinuates * some 
thing like it, but under cover of the destruction of the 
temple at Daphne |* ; and otherwise, in so oblique 
and obscure a manner as shews him to be ashamed of 
so foolish a pretence. But then his honest and well- 
nstructcd advocate, Amm. Marcellinus, is far from 
giving into this suspicion ; the different rcnnner in 

* Sec pp. 80, &c. 

- Which, it is not unlikely, was burnt by common lightning, 
though Julian, in his Misopogon, directly charges it on the 
hnstiuns. 

a 2 which 



228 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

which he relates the two events at Nicomedia and 
Jerusalem evidently imply the contrary. In his ac 
count of \\ivjbrmery out of a pure parade of science, 
he digresses, on the physical causes of earthquakes. 
In the latter (would the fact have borne him out) he 
had better reasons than an affectation to shew his 
learning, to tell us what the philosophers had said 
most plausible. , in favour of a natural event ; for had 
that been the fact, the true cause, he knew, was uni 
versally mistaken ; and Paganism was essentially con 
cerned to have that mistake rectified. On the contrary, 
Ammianus hath contributed to support the general 
opinion, by expressions which evidently imply superior 
agency. Yet was this candid Historian nothing shy 
in speaking his mind, when he conceived either fraud 
or superstition had too large a share in common re 
ports. For, mentioning the conflagration of Apollo s 
temple at Daphne, which the Christians boasted to be 
miraculously consumed by lightning, he frankly de 
clares it was suspected to have been set on fire by 
themselves *. But why should I insist on the conduct 
of so fair an adversary as MarcelHnus, when Libanius, 
and the rest of Julian s sophists, those bigots to Pa* 
ganism, and inflarners of their master s follies, dared 
not so much as mutter the least suspicion of this na 
ture, though the first of them, as we have seen, hath 
mentioned this disaster in such a manner as shews he 
well understood the necessity of throwing into shade, 
what he could give no good account of, if placed in a 
fair light. Nor was their silence the effect of fear, or 
want of good- will. In more dangerous and offensive 
matters they spoke- freely ; and with insolence enough ; 

* Suspicabatur id Christianos egisse stimulates invidia, quod 
idem templum inviti videbant ambitioso circumdari peristylio. 
L. xxii. c. 13. 

For 



Chap. VI.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 219 

For when the Christians every where gave out that 
the death of Julian was miraculous, these friends of 
his publicly maintained that lie was basely assassinated 
by a Christian soldier ; and undertook to make good 
the charge, at their own peril *, if the emperor 
would appoint commissaries to examine into the fact. 
Lastly, the Fathers and Church Historians, who are 
so large in establishing the credit of God s interposi 
tion at Jerusalem, afford us not the least hint that 
their adversaries ever thought of evading it by the 
pretence of a natural event. 



* See Libanius virtg r~is laXta^S rtptffUK* Fabr. Bibl. Grace, 
vol. vii. and the oblique reflections of the noble author of the 
Characteristics upon it, vol. iii. Mis. ii. c. 3. But, by what I 
can gather from antiquity, it seems to have been a frank calumny. 
Eutropius, who. was in the action, and Marcellinus, who served 
there in the body-guards, seem, neither of them, to have enter 
tained the least suspicion of this kind. Besides, Julian was 
wounded at that very instant when the darts of the Persians were 
known to do most execution ; that is to say, in one of their 
dissembled Jtights ; and when his own guards forewarned him of 
the danger, in pressing upon their rear " Clarnabant hinc inde 
" candidati (says Ammiarius) ut fugiontium molem tamquam 
** ruinam male compesiti cnlminis declinaret: et incertum subita 
" equestris hasta cute brachii ejus pra2stricta, costis perfbssis 
" haesit in ima jecoris fibra." Lib. xxv. c. iii. But what shall 
we say to the emperor s own testimony; who, in his dying ha 
rangue, returns thanks to God for not suffering him to fall by 
secret conspiracy ? " Ideoque sempiternum veneror numeri quod 
44 non clandcstinis insidiis, nee longa morborum aspcriute, vel 
" damnatorum fine decedo : sed in medio cursu florentium glori- 
" arum hunc merui clarum e mundo digrfssum." Id. ib. And this 
testimony will be seen to have the more weight, if we consider, 

Q 3 tivat 



230 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

that Julian having (as in th S place he tells us) consulted the 
oracle about his t.tte, was answered, that he should fall by the 
sword " intentuium m<- terro dudum didici fide fatidica prseci- 
ft nente." Id. ib. The ambiguity of .\hich answer would natu 
rally make him as vigilant against his personal enemies, as against 
the enemies of the state. So that when he calls his death clantm 
digre>sum, we may take his word for it, that he knew it to be by 
the darts of the PersLns. 

Yet Libanius, we see, brings a formal charge against the Chris 
tians, of a pretended assassinate; and offered himself as the pro 
secutor, to m.ike it good. What evidence he had in reserve is 
hard to say: But, in his (Jra-ion to rei cngc the deaf h of his 
master, having related that Sapor, willing to recompense the 
hand which had worked his deliverance, had published a reward 
which nobody came in to receive, and from thence had concluded, 
that Julian must have fallen by one of his own soldiers ; Libanius, 
I say, calls this the strongest proof of all, TO 3e u,;ytro a.7rat\uv. 
And it was no wonder he rated it so high : for when he composed 
his funeral oration on the death of Julian, he was so unfurnished 
on this head, that he takes it. for granted his master was slain 
by a Persian horseman, VTT *Ap/a^e>i^ nwq nctrsvr.viKltx.1. At that 
time, he seemed to think with Eutropius, Marcellinus, and every 
other reasonable nan, that the circumstance of the reward s 
being unclaimed, was so far from being extraordinary, that it was 
not to be expected a particular stroke should be distinguished 
amidst a general flight of darts and arrows. A great poet, long 
before, in the description of a battle, had feigned the same acci 
dent : but he had too much good sense to suppose so unlikely 
a circumstance attending it, as that the author of the stroke was 
either distinguished by others, or conscious of it himself: 

" Ecce, viro stridens alis allepsa sagitta est, 
" Incertum qua pulsa manu, quo turbine adacta; 
" Quis tantam Rulili.s laudem, casusne dt-usne, 
" Attulerit pressa est insignis gloria facti ; 

c NEC SESE &N JACTAVJT VOLNERE QUISQUAN." 



But, you will say, Libanius was better informed when he wrote 
the Oration to revenge his death. Be it so. It is certain, how 

ever, 



Chap. VI.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 231 

ever, be does no honour to bis information ; neitber in tbc matter, 
nor in tbe composition of tbat piece ; it being indeed one of the 
meanest and most disingenuous discourses of all antiquity : and, 
in every respect, so pitiful, tluit, bad the reasoning and rhetoric 
belonged to a Father, our aiiti-crclesiaslics could not have desired 
a better fund for their mirth and raillery. 

On the whole, this calumny seems to have had its birth from 
a stratagem of Sapor to throw the Roman army into discord and 
confusion, when, on the death of Julian, he found it was not like 
to become so easy a prey to him, as he expected. It is probable 
lie published the reward, spoken of above, without affectation 
or design : but no one coming to lay in his claim, he found a 
good use might be made of it ; and so gave out, That Julian 
must needs be slain by a Roman soldier, since, after the most 
diligent search amongst his own troops, there was no one that 
pretended to the merit of his death. That this report might make 
its due impression, he ordered the Persians (who were then ha 
rassing the Romans) whenever they came up within hearing of 
the enemy, to reproach them with the murder of their master: 
It was in prosecution of the same scheme, that when the am 
bassadors, whom Jovian sent to treat of peace, came to their 
audience. The first question he asked them was, Whether Julian s 
death bad been yet revenged. Bnt why so much solicitude in a 
matter he had no concern in : and so much resentment of an ac 
tion he had reaped such advantages from, if he did not expect, 
bv this affected generosity, to reap greater ? Every man of sense 
in the army treated this artifice as it deserved : and hence, with 
out doubt, the neglect shewn to it by Eutropius and Marcellinus. 
Nor is this a stratagem unusual in war. Our Henry V. em 
ployed it with success after the battle of Azincourjt, to appease 
the duke of Burgundy, when he sent the king his gantlet by an 
herald (the declaration of war in those times) to revenge the 
death of bis two brothers, who fell in that action fighting on the 
side of Charles VI. For, unwilling to bringdown upon himself 
so powerful an enemy, but principally desirous of inflaming the 
distracted councils of France, he took advantage of the quarrels 
between the houses of Burgundy and Orleans, to assure the herald 
that the duke s brothers were not killed by the English troops, 

Q 4 but 



132 OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Book II. 

but by those of their own party, in the faction of Orleans : of 
which, he said, he would produce evidence, and make good his 
allegation to the full. But he performed his word just as Sapor 
did his, of the assassinate of Julian : where (to return to our sub 
ject) the pretence was so gross and ridiculous, that it is probable 
we had heard no more of it, had it not been for the delusion of 
some Christians, who, being on the hunt after miracles, catched 
at the circumstance of the dart s coming from an unknown 
hand, to make a miracle of the apostate s death. Henceforward 
the fable received new vigour; and soon after, a kind of esta 
blishment, from the strange indiscretion of Sozomene, who would 
needs venture to defend the morality of this pretended assassinate : 
a rashness which did the faithful more dishonour than all the 
contrivances of Julian against them. And yet, to do justice to 
every one, the folly, to speak no worse of it, is not to be charged 
on the Christian principles, but on the Pagan ; which Sozomene 
would not suffer his Christianity to correct ; for the cutting off a 
tyrant was one of the most illustrious of the Pagan virtues ; and 
unhappily our church-historian seems to have been struck with 
the glory attending that achievement. 



REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 333 



CONCLUSION. 

i 

W E shall conclude with a short recapitulation of 
the whole argument. 

First, It hath been shewn, That the occasion was 
most important; and that the credit and honour 
of Revelation required God s interposition at this 
juncture. 

That Julian aggravated the impiety of his attempt, 
by all the insulting circumstances most likely to bring 
upon him the vengeance of heaven. 

That the event is established by all the power of 
human testimony : That the church hath borne witness 
to it by a full, consistent, and contemporary evidence. 

That the adversaries of our holy Faith, who were in 
the neighbourhood of the scene, the followers of Ju 
lian, and most partial to his views, have confirmed 
their report. Nay, that the emperor himself hath 
confessed the hand which overcame him, though with 
tha t disingenuity which characterises the sophist and 
the bigot, in what party soever they are found. 

And lastly, That the^foct was, in its nature, such 
as least admitted of unfaithful accounts concerning it. 

Then the OBJECTIONS to the miracle have been 
considered. 

It hath been shewn, that, from the word of PRO 
PHECY, and the course of God s dispensations, his 
interposition was even necessary to support the honour 
of Religion. 

That the evidence of the historian, AMM. MAR- 
c ELLIN us, is so full and perfect in all its parts, that 
there is not one circumstance in his character or testi 
mony, 



OF JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO [Con- 

rnbny, which an unbeliever could abuse, to keep back 
his assent ; nor any wanting, which a Believer would 
desire, to prevent" a cavil. 

That the several accounts of the FATHERS of the 
Church and the Ecclesiastical Historians are not only 
consistent with, but highly corroborative of, one an 
other ; and,, that such parts of their relations as appear 
at first sight most prodigious, are indeed, when ma 
turely examined, the parts which most deserve credit. 

That it is very unlikely, nay almost impossible, 
that the eruption should be the effect of human ART 
and contrivance. 

And lastly, that it is no less absurd to suppose it a 
NATURAL event. 

Thus new light continually springing up from each 
circumstance as it passed in review; by such time as 
the whole was considered, this illustrious MIRACLE 
hath come out in one full blaze of evidence. Inso 
much, that I will venture to affirm, there is nothing 
to be opposed to its force, but what must at the same 
time destroy the credit of all human testimony what 
soever. 

When, therefore, the Reader reflects, how little 
this invincible demonstration for our holy Faith hath 
been hitherto insisted on ; how slightly it hath been 
handled ; and how hastily and slovenly hurried over ; 
he will possibly find cause to wonder as much, on the 
one hand, at this strange inattention, as on the other, 
at the unreasonable credulity of the blind adorers of 
antiquity. For though it hath ever affected the learned 
and impartial observer with the superiority of its evi 
dence, yet no one before, that I know of, hath at 
tempted to set that superiority in a just light, though 
provoked to it by the insolence of our enemies, and, 
what is still more provoking, the indiscretion of our 

FRIENDS : 



elusion.] REBUILD THE TEMPLE. 235 

ritiF.NDS : some of whom have hinted their suspicions 
in private ; and others given more open intimations of 
its falsehood. 

This, in part, m\y be owing to those ticklish cir 
cumstances in tUe evidence of the Father^ which, on 
examination, we have sliewn to he its principal sup 
port. But what ha tli chiefly occasioned this neglect, 
I am persuaded, is the state and condition of the 
Ecclesiastical History of that time ; when the light of 
miracles was surrounded with such a swarm of monkish 
fables, as was enough to darken the brightest of its 
rays ; and, indeed, nothing, but the force of its divine 
extraction, could ever have broke through them : 
for, as if these unhappy artificers designed what they 
brought to pass, they were not content to counterfeit 
the hand of God on other common occasions : they 
would try their skill on this, where it had been sa 
eminently displayed ; and actually contrived to mimic 
its most essential and triumphant circumstances. Ac 
cordingly, Church History informs us, that when Ju 
lian and his brother Gallus projected to build a temple 
over the sepulchre of one St. Mamas ; that part which 
Julian undertook jfe / down again as soon as built; the 
saint, it seems, disdaining the service of the future 
apostate. The cloudy monk, who invented this fable, 
had, we see, two conceits in his head : he would make 
Julian s offering as unacceptable as Cain s ; and re 
solving likewise, he should be an unlucky builder 
through life, would not give him the skill or privilege 
of that primitive out-law. The same History again 
informs us*, That once, when Julian sacrificed, there 
was found impressed* upon the entrails of the victim, 
a cross iritltin a crown cr circle: for uhen the monks 
had once got the apostate into their hands, they treated 
* Greg. Naz. Oral. iii. Soz. 1. v. c. 2. 

him 



236 OF JUUAN S ATTEMPT, &c. 

him as a true Demoniac; and so plied him -with 
CROSSES, that sovereign Panacea of the Exorcists. 

Thus they dressed up their impostures as like as 
they could, in garb and fashion, to the miracles of 
heavenly extraction ; with the spirit, or, must we say, 
in imitation of those Pagan priests, who forged their 
jAncilia to secure the SACKED SHIELD which fell from 
heaven : as if they had taken it into their heads, that 
true miracles, unattended with these delusions, were 
in the same danger from the enemies of the Faith, 
that theP allodium of Rome was from robbers, without 
a numerous guard of brazen counterfeits. 



EN D 

Or TREATISE 

ON JULIAN S ATTEMPT TO REBUILD 
THE TEMPLE, 



THE 

DOCTRINE OF GRACE; 

OR, 

THE OFFICE AND OPERATIONS OF THE HOLY SPIRIT 
riNDICATED 

TROM THE INSULTS OF INFIDELITY 

AND 

THE ABUSES OF FANATICISM: 

WITH 

SOME THOUGHTS 

(Humbly offered to the Consideration of the Established Clergy) 

REGARDING 

THE RIGHT METHOD OF DEFENDING RELIGION 
AGAINST THE ATTACKS OF EITHER PARTY. 

IN THREE BOOKS. 



1750. 



ADVERTISEMENT to the First Edition. 

PREFACE. 

BOOK I. - - - containing Chaps. I. to X. 

BOOK II. .,---- Chaps. I. to XII. 

BOOK III. ...... Chaps. I. II. & III. 



ADVERTISEMENT 

TO THE FIRST EDITION. 

WHILE I was composing these sheets to vindicate 
the honour of Religion, it was given out, that I was 
writing in defence of a late Minister of State. 

I have a Master above, and I have one below; I 
mean GOD, and the KING. To them my services are 
bound. 

The most sacred of all private ties are Friendship 
and Gratitude. The duties arising from these, though 
not-altogether so extensive as the other, are subservient 
only to them. 

With respect to the great Minister here understood, 
His vindication, had he wanted any, could come, with 
proper dignity, only from himself. And he, thougli 
for the first time, would be here but a Copier : I mean, 
of the example of that First of Romans * ; who being 
calumniated before the people by one N T evius, an 
obscure Plebeian, when he came to make his defence, 
which happened to be on the anniversary of the battle 
of Zama, addressed the assembly in this manner : "It 
" was on this day, Romans, that I subdued your mighty 
" Rival for Empire, the Carthaginian. Ill would it 
:< become the friends of Rome to waste such a day in 
" wrangling and contention. We should now be re- 
" turning thanks to the immortal Gods for the signal 

* Scipio Africnmis; who restored his country by carrying the 
war fioia Home to Carthage. 

" protection 



240 ADVERTISEMENT. 

" protection they afforded us in that glorious conflict. 
" Let us leave then this fellow with himself, and ascend 
" together to the capitol, to offer to Jupiter the 
" Deliverer; who, on all occasions as well as this, 
(C hath, from my early youth, vouchsafed to bestow 
" upon me the growing power and the constant dis- 
" position to support the honour of my country. And 
" let no God, auspicious to Rome, be left uninvoked, 
" that the State, in its distresses, may never want such 
" servants as I have still endeavoured to approve 
(( myself." When he had said this, he slept from the 
rostrum, and left the forum empty ; all the people 
following him to the capitol. 

That the people followed him is not surely the marvel 
lous part of the story. The thing to be admired is, 
that a Statesman should lead the people to prayers. 

This indeed is the last service a Patriot-minister can 
render to his country. And I am well persuaded (so 
exactly does the example fit the occasion) that our 
illustrious Modern would have deemed it the crown 
of his labours to have animated his Fellow-citizens with 
a spirit of true piety towards GOD, as successfully as 
he inflamed them with a spirit of zeal and fortitude for 
the King and Constitution. 



PREFACE 



1 241 ] 



PREFACE 

T O 

THE DOCTRINE OF GRACE. 

THE CONTEMPT of Religion soon followed the 
ABUSE ; and both of them have existed almost ever 
since the first institution of the thing itself. For, that 
corruption of heart, whose disorder Religion was or 
dained to cure, has been ever struggling against its 
Remedy. 

I. In the days of Solomon, when Wisdom was at 
its height, Folly* as we learn from many passages in 
the writings of that sacred sage, kept equal paces with 
it. Hence it is, that, after lie has given many lively 
paintings of the deformed features* of Irreligion and 
Bigotry, he subjoins directions to the sober advocate 
of Piety and Virtue, how best to repress their insolence 
and vanity. ANSWER NOT ajool (says he) according 
to his folly, lest thou also be, like unto him. ANSWER 
a Fool according to his Jolly, lest he be wise in his own 
conctit *. 

Short, isolated sentences were the mode in which 
ancient wisdom delighted to convey its precepts for 
the regulation of human conduct. But when this 
natural method had lost the grace of novelty, ^nd a 
growing refinement had new-coloured the candid sim 
plicity of ancient manners, these instructive sages found 
a necessity uf giving to their moral rraxinis thes 
ing and poignancy of paradoxes. In these lively and 
useful sports of fancy, the son of David, we are told, 

* Prov. xxvi. 4, 5 

VOL. VIII. R most 



242 PREFACE TO THE 

most excelled. We find them to abound in the writ 
ings which bear his name ; and we meet with frequent 
allusions to them in all the parts of sacred Writ, under 
the names of Riddles, Parables, and Dark-sayings. 

Now of all the examples of this species of instruc 
tion, there is none more illustrious, or fuller of moral 
wisdom, than the paradox just now quoted ; or which, 
in the happiness of the expression, has so artfully con 
veyed the key for opening the treasures of it. But as 
a dark conceit and a dull one have a great proximity in 
modern wit ; and a nice difference is not distinguished 
from a contradiction in modern reasoning ; this paradox 
of the Sage has been mistaken by his critics for an 
absurdity of some of his transcribers, who forgot the 
negative in the latter member of the sentence : and so, 
to be set right at an easier expence than unfolding dark 
sentences of old ; that is to say, by exchanging them 
fur clearer, of a modern date : which time can make 
ANCIENT HEADINGS; and which a careful collation 
of its blunders may hereafter make the TRUE. 

II. But they who chuse to receive antiquity in its 
antique garb, will, perhaps, venture with me to try, if 
the apparent contradiction in the received text cannot 
be fairly unriddled without any other aid than of the 
words themselves, in which the dark saying is con 
veyed. 

Had the folly of these fools been only of one con 
dition or denomination, then the advice to answer, and 
not to answer, had been repugnant to itself. But as 
their folly was of various kinds, in some of which, to 
answer might offend the dignity, and in others, not to 
answer might hurt the interests of Truth ; To answer, 
and not to answer, is a consistent, and may, for aught 
these critics know, be a very wise direction. 

23 Had 



DOCTRINE OF GRACE. 243 

Had the advice been given simply and without cir 
cumstance, to ansrccr the foci, and not to answer h m, 
a critic, who had a reverence for the text, would satiety 
himself in supposing, that thj different directions re 
ferred to the doing a thing in and out of season. Hut 
when, to the general advice about answering, this cir 
cumstance is added according to his folly, that inter 
pretation is excluded ; and a difficulty indeed arises ; 
a difficulty, which has made those who have no reve 
rence for the TEXT, to accuse it of absurdity and con 
tradiction. 

But now, to each direction, reasons are subjoined, 
Why a Fool should, and why he should not, be answer 
ed: reasons, which, when set together and compared, 
are, at first sight, sufficient to make the critic suspect, 
that all the contradiction lies in his own incumbered 
ideas. 

1. The reason given, why a Fool should not be 
answered according to his folly, is, lest he [the Answer 
er] be like unto him : 

2. The reason given, why he should be answered 
according to his folly, is, kst he [the Fool] be wise 
in his own conceit. 

The cause assigned, of forbidding to answer, there 
fore, plainly insinuates, that the Defender of Religion 
should not imitate the insulter of it in his modes of 
disputation-, which may be comprised in sophistry, 
buffbonry, and scurrility. For what could so much 
liken the answerer to his idiot-adversary, as the putting 
on his fool s-coat in order to captivate and confound 
the rabble ? 

The cause assigned, of directing to answer, as 
plainly intimates, that the Sage should address himself 
to confute the fool upon the fool s own Jake principles, 

n 2 by 



244 PREFACE TO THE 

by shewing that they lead to conclusions very wide from 
the impieties he would deduce from them. And if any 
thing will prevent the fool from being wise in his own 
conceit, it must be the dishonour and the ridicule of 
having his own principles turned against him ; while 
they are shewn to make for the very contrary purpose 
to that for which he had employed them. 

The supreme wisdom, conveyed in the two precepts 
of this unravelled paradox, will be best understood by 
explaining the advantages arising from the observance 
of each of them. 

IIL We are not to answer a fool according to his 
folly, lest we also be like unto him This is the 
reason given ; and a good one it is ; sufficient to make 
any sober man decline a combat, where even victory 
would bring dishonour with it. Now, if our answer 
be of such a nature that we also (though with contrary 
intentions) do injury to truth, we become like unto him 
in the essential part of his character. And surely 
Truth is never more grossly abused, nor its advocates 
more dishonoured, than when they employ the foolish 
arts of sophistry, buffbonry, and scurrility, in its 
defence. 

i. To use fallacious and inconclusive arguments in 
support of Truth ; is doing it infinite discredit. The 
practice tends to make men suspect that the questioned 
Truth is indeed an imposture, when it finds support in 
the common tricks of impostors : the least unfavourable 
inference will be, that the Truth is defended not for 
its own sake, but for the sake of the Defender : this 
will make the serious inquirer less attentive to the 
issue, and more jealous of the good faith of the ad 
vocate ; which cannot but lessen our reverence to the 
one, and increase unfavourable prejudices towards the 

other. 



DOCTRINE OF GRACE. 245 

other. It tends to reduce the two parties of Wisdom 
and Folly to a level ; when they stand on the same 
barren and deceitful ground. It tends to confound tlie 
distinction between true and false, and to make all 
terminate in that most malignant species of folly, Pyr- 
rhonic -doubt and uncertainty. 

2. To employ Buffboiiry in this service, is to violate 
the majesty of Truth, which can inforce its influence 
amongst men no longer than while its sanctity of cha 
racter is kept safe from insult. 

Bujfoonry deprives Truth of the only thing she 
wants, in order to come off victorious ; I mean, a fair 
hearing. To examine, Men must be serious ; and to 
judge, they must be attentive to the argument. Buf- 
foonry gives a levity to the mind, which makes it seek 
entertainment rather than instruction, in all that is 
offered to its inspection. But let this poor talent be 
taken at its utmost worth, the use of it will still raise 
a suspicion, that the advocate has his cause little at 
heart, while, in the very heat of an important contro 
versy, he can allow himself to be amused and diverted 
by the levity of false wit ; since, in matters that are 
understood to concern us most, we are wont to appear, 
as well as to be, most in earnest : and this scandal 
given by the advocate, will always do prejudice to the 
cause. 

3. Again, personal abuse, that favourite colour which 
glares most in the fool s rhetoric, is carefully to be 
avoided. For nothing can so assimilate the answerer 
to the fool he is confuting, as a want of charity, which 
this mode of defence so openly betrays. To charity, 
the fool makes no pretensions. His very attempt is 
an avowed violation of it. He would deprive the 
world of what he himself confesses to be most useful 

B 3 to 



246 PREFACE TO THE 

to society, and most pleasing to the natural sentiments 
of man ; that is to say, religion. He would break 
down this barrier against evil, he would rob us of this 
consolation of humanity; and in such a service he 
follows but his nature and his office, when he vilifies 
and calumniates all who set themselves to oppose his 
impious projects. But the end of the Commandment 
is charity. 

These are the various modes of answering which 
are to be avoided, lest the advocate of religion become 
like the impious caviller whom he addresses himself to 
confute. 

IV. But then, lest the fool should be wise in his own 
conceit, we are, at tue same time, bid, to give him an 
answer. But how can this be done, in the manner 
here directed, namely, according to his folly, and yet 
the answerer not become like unto him, but, on the 
contrary, be able to produce the effect here intimated? 
The cure of the fool s vain conceit of his superior 
wisdom, is a difficulty indeed ; a difficulty worthy the 
advocate of truth to undertake : and which a master 
of his subject may hope to overcome, in contriving to 
confute the fool on his ownfoke principles, by shewing 
that they lead to a conclusion very opposite to those 
free consequences he has laboured to deduce from 
them. And if any thing will allay thefoofs vain con 
ceit of himself, it must be the sense of such a dishonour. 
For what can be more shameful than to have his own 
principles shewn to be destructive of his own conclu 
sions P What more mortifying, than to have those 
principles, in whose invention he so much gloried, or 
in whose use he so much confided, fairly turned, by all 
the rules of good logic, to his own confusion ? Nor is 
the partisan of falsehood more humbled than the cause 

of 



DOCTRINE OF GRACE. 247 

of truth advanced, by thtis answering a fool according 
to his folly- For that victory where the adversary is 
thus made to contribute to his own overthrow is, in 
common estimation, always held to he most compleat : 
that system being naturally deemed contemptible, 
xvhose most plausible support draws after it the ruin 
of what it was raised to uphold. 

And thus, as the wise man directs, is this forward 
fool to be treated ; whether it be by silence or con- 
Jut at ion. 

V. That, in general, his folly is to be repressed, 
according to the dictates of true wisdom, the nature of 
the thing sufficiently informs us : there was no need of 
a particular direction to inforce the expediency and 
necessity of such a conduct. But then, besides, it 
may sometimes happen, that the interests of truth re 
quire his being answered even according to his folly : 
and, as our duty here is very liable to abuse, it was 
expedient to obviate the danger. This, we may ob 
serve, the sacred writer hath done ; and with much art 
and elegance of address. 

It may indeed be said, Why this practised obliquity 
in defence of truth ? Is not the purity of her nature 
rather defiled, than her real interests advanced by this 
indirection? And does not wisdom seem to tell us, 
that it becomes her dignity to repress folly by those 
arms only which wisdom herself hath edged and tem 
pered ; that truth, by the information of her own light, 
points out the straight road to her abode ; and forbids 
us to riggle into her sacred presence through by-paths, 
and the cloudy medium of falsehood ? 

But they who talk thus do not sufficiently refl ct on 
the condition of our weak and purblind nature, which 
can ill bear the bright and unshaded light of truth. On 

B 4 which 



248 PREFACE. 

which account, it is so Contrived, in the beautiful order 
of things, that folly, by thus administering to her own 
dci .it, should brin<j; us back again into the ways of 
wisck"n, from which she hath seduced us. 

The FvEDEiMKR of mankind, in condescension to 
the infirmities of those he came to save, hath taken 
this very advantage of that established order: for, 
more effectually to silence those /00/s who questioned 
his mission and his office, he ansicers them according 
to their folly ; that is, he demonstrates to them, on 
their Osvn erroneous ideas of the nature and end of the 
LAW (formed on rabbinical traditions and the reveries 
of Greek philosophers), he demonstrates to them, I 
say, the truth an<) reasonableness of the GOSPEL. The 
pure and unabated splendor of truth, ushered in by 
wisdom, would have only added to their judicial blind 
ness: for to bear it undazzled, they had need, of the 
presence of that SPIRIT OF TRUTH, which was not 
yet come, but only promised to be sent. Indeed, when 
this sacred guide was come, and while he continued in an 
extraordinary manner, to enlighten the understandings 
of the iaithful, there was no occasion for this inforced 
ministry of jolly, to contribute to her own destruc 
tion. And therefore thejirst propagators of the Gospel 
proceeded more directly to the establishment of the 
truth, and on the solid principles of wisdom only. Yet 
now again, in the ordinary communications of GRACE, 
this direction of the wise man will be as useful as ever, 
to the interests of virtue and religion, ANSWER A FOOL 

ACCORDING TO HIS FOLLY, LEST HE BE WISE IN 
HIS OWN CONCEIT. 



THE 



DOCTRINE OF GRACE; 



OR, 



THE OFFICE AND OPERATIONS OF THE 
HOLY SPIRIT. 



BOOK I. 



CHAP. I. 

TH E Blessed JESUS came into the world ON THE 
PART OF GOD, to declare pardon and salvation 
to the forfeited posterity of Adam. He testified the 
truth of his Mission by amazing miracles, and sealed 
man s Redemption, in his Blood, by the more amazing 
sacrifice of himself upon the cross. 

But as the REDEMPTION, so procured, could only 
operate on each individual, unaer certain conditions 
of FAITH and OBEDIENCE, very repugnant to our 
corrupt nature, the blessed Redeemer, on leaving the 
world, promised to his followers his intercession with 
the Father, to send amongst them another divine Per 
son ON THE PART OF MAN, namely the HOLY GHOST, 
called the Spirit of Truth, and the Comforter ; who, 
agreeably to the import of these attributes, should co 
operate with man in establishing his FAITH, and in 
perfecting his OBEDIENCE ; or, in other words, should 
sanctify him to Redemption. 

This 



250 THE DOCTRINE [Book I. 

This is a succinct account oi the economy of Grace ; 
entirely consonant to our most approved conceptions 
of the Divine nature and of the human condition. 
For if man was to be reinstated in a FREE- GIFT, 
which had been justly forfeited, we cannot but con 
fess, that as, on the one hand, the restoration might 
be made on what conditions best pleased the giver ; 
so, on the other, that God would graciously provide 
that it should not be made in vain. 

An atonement, therefore, for the offended Majesty 
of the FATHER, was first to be procured; and this 
was the work of the SON : and then, a rein dy was to 
be provided for that helpless condition of man, which 
hindered the atonement from producing its effect; and 
this was the office of the HOLY GHOST : so that both 
were joint-workers in the great business of reconciling 
God to man. 

What at present I propose to consider is, the Office 
and Operations of the Holy Spirit, as they are de 
livered to us in sacred Scripture. 

His office in general is, as hath been observed, to 
establish our faith, and to perfect our obedience, both 
of which he doth by ENLIGHTENING THE UNDER 
STANDING, and by RECTIFYING THE WILL. All 
this is necessarily collected from the words of Jesus, 
wnich contain this important PROMISE. I mil pray 
the Father (says he) and he shall give you another 
COMFORTER, that he may abide with you for ever ; 
even the SPIRIT OF TRUTH He dwetlcth with you, 
and shall be in you which is the HOLY GHOST, 
# hum the Father shall stnd in my name. He shall 



1LACH YOU ALL THINGS 1 *. 



Ly teaching us all things under the joint characters 
of the Spirit cf Truth and of the Comforter, we are 

* John xiv. 16, fy stq. 

necessarily 



Chap. II.] OF GRACE. 251 

necessarily to understand all things which concern 

FAITH and OBEDIENCE. 

These two distinct branches of his office I shall 
consider in their order. 



CHAP. II. 

FIRST of all, let us observe the method employed 
by Divine Wisdom in manifesting the operations of the 
HOLY GHOST, as the SPIRIT AND GUIDE OF 
TRUTH *. 

The first extraordinary attestation of his descent was 
at the day of Pentecost, in the GIFT OF TONGUES. 

Besides the great and almost indispensable use of 
this endowment on the first disciples of Christ, who 
were to convey the glad tidings of the Gospel through 
out the whole earth ; the elegance and propriety in 
the choice of this miracle, to attest the real descent of 
that Spirit who was to teach us all things, can never 
be enough admired : tor WORDS being the human 
vehicle of our knowledge, this gift was the fittest pre 
cursor of the Spirit of Truth. 

But this first opening scene of wonders, which was 
to prepare and influence all their subsequent labours, 
a late eminent Writer would, from a SIGN, reduce to 
a shadow ; in which he seems to think, fancy set itself 
on work, to produce a prodigy. " The gift of tongues 
" upon the day of Pentecost (says the learned person) 
" was not lasting, but instantaneous and transitory ; 
" nor bestowed upon them for the constant work of 
" the ministry, but as an occasional sign only, that 
" the person endowed with it was a chosen ministe of 
" the Gospel: which sign, as soon as it had served that 

* John xvi. 13. 

" particular 



2,52 THE DOCTRINE [Book I. 

" particular purpose, seems to have ceased, and 
" totally to have vanished*." 

Let us examine now the grounds of this new in 
terpretation, so apparently derogatory to the operation 
of the Holy Spirit. 

The learned writer proceeds in order ; first, to re 
duce the type or visible sign of the gift, the FIERY 
TONGUES : for having declared the gift itself to be in 
stantaneous and transitory, he has, very consistently, 
endeavoured to shew that the sign of it was merely 
fanciful. He explains it to be no more than a sudden 
flash of lightning, " which, he says, like all other 
" phenomena of that sort, no sooner appeared, than 
" vanished f." 

His reason for this opinion is, " because when the 
" Disciples spoke in strange tongues to the multi- 
" tude, the conclusion they drew from that circum- 
" stance seems to shew, that the celestial fire did not, 
" at that time, sit upon their heads ." 

But the learned person has omitted to bring this 
other circumstance into his account, that when the 
cloven tongues appeared upon each of them, they were 
assembled together in a private room, sequestered and 
apart : and that it was not till the thing was noised 
abroad, and the multitude come together, to inquire 
into the truth of it, that the apostles spoke with tongues 
as the Spirit gave them utterance. Now between this 
visible descent of the Holy Spirit, and their speaking 
to the multitude, a considerable time must have inter 
vened ; sufficient to convince the apostles, from the 
steady duration of the appearance, that it was not 
natural, but miraculous. And this the original w r ords 

* Dr. Middleton s Essay on the Gift of Tongues, vol. ii. of 
his works, p. 79. 
t P. 81, | P. 82, 

well 



Chap. II.] OF GRACE. 253 

well express : ixa9i<r n l<p* *W Vxaroy auTwv, properly 
rendered by the phrase of SITTING upon each of than: 
words so inconsistent with a momentary appearance, 
that it would be trifling with common sense to deduce 
such an interpretation from oblique circumstances and 
collateral reasoning. It is true the learned writer con 
cedes, even from the sign s being only a sudden flash, 
which vanished almost as soon as it appeared, that 
" it indicated something miraculous and super- 
" natural*." But I am afraid, that those who are the 
readiest to embrace his physiology, will not be the 
first to admire his theology; especially as it is so 
gratuitously deduced. It may therefore not be im 
proper to consider the evangelical account of this 
visible descent, with a little more exactness. In this 
place (we see) the fiery tongues are said, to sit upon 
each of them : and other places of Scripture, which 
mention the like descent of the Holy Spirit in visible 
form, describe it in such terms as denote a very diffe 
rent appearance from a sudden flash of lightning. 
St. Matthew tells us, that the Spirit of God descended 
like a dove, u<rii wtpinp*it ; that is, with a dove-like 
motion ; as birds, when about to settle upon any 
thing, first hover over it with quivering wings : it then 
lighted upon Jesus, ipxopwv In &UTOV. So, in the 
place in question, the same Spirit is said to descend 
under the appearance of cloven tongues, like as of fire, 
urtl Tffvpot, In the former instance, only the motion 
of the descent is described : in this, both the motion, 
figure, and colour. And the term of cloven tongues, 
which the sacred historian employs to describe the 
motion, and which the learned writer takes up, to 
prove his hypothesis of a momentary existence of the 
phenomenon, proves it, in truth, to be of some con- 

* P. 82. 

tinuance. 



254 THE DOCTRINE [Book I. 

tinuance. " We cannot (says he) think it strange 
" that fire flashing from Heaven, and suddenly vanish- 
" ing, should yield some resemblance of tongues to 
cc the eyes of the MULTITUDE; for this is no more 
u than what is natural, and what we may observe, 
" in some measure, from every flame that flashes 
" from the clouds, and breaks itself, of course, in a 
" number of small pointed particles not remote from 
" that shape *." 

To this, let us, in the first place, observe, that the 
thing seen, u<rs\ TSTUJBO?, on the heads of the apostles, 
was no more an elementary jire, than the thing seen, 
<T -srtfHrtp&Vj on the head of Jesus, was a real dove : 
for, as only a dove-like motion is intimated in this 
latter expression, so only & flame-like motion is inti 
mated in the former ; and what this was, the histo 
rian tells us in its effect, the appearance of cloven 
tongues. The learned person is certainly mistaken in 
supposing a sudden flash of lightning has naturally 
the appearance of cloven tongues. Such a pheno 
menon exhibits to the eye of the beholder only a line 
of light angularly broken into several directions ; very 
different from the form of tongues, whether whole or 
cloven. Whenever a flame assumes this appearance, 
it is become stationary, as this was, which, the his 
torian says, SAT upon each of them, e0<r : and then 
its natural motion being upwards, it represents, when 
divided lengthwise, a pyramidal or tongue-like figure, 
cloven A demonstration that the appearance in ques 
tion was not momentary, but of some continuance. 

The learned writer having thus accounted for the 
precursor of the gift, comes to consider the gift itself ; 
and attempts to shew that " the chief or SOLE END 
" RATHER of the gift of tongues was to serve as a 

* P. 82. 

" sensible 



Chap. II.] OF GRACE. 255 

" sensible sign in that infirm state of the first Chris- 
" tians, that those to whom it was vouchsafed were 
" under a divine influence, and acted by a divine com- 
" mission. So that it is not reasonable to think that 
" this diversity of tongues was given to the apostles 
" for the sake of converting those people before whom 
" they then spoke*." Hence (says he) " it appears 
" that the gift was not of a stable or permanent na- 
" ture t" That is, it was no lasting endowment, to 
enable the apostles to perform their ministry amongst 
those whose language they had never learnt ; but, a 
momentary power, which served that day for a sign to 
the multituele : and consequently, they had these lan 
guages to learn anew r when they wanted the use of 
them. This, I say, appears to be his inference; for 
the arguments he brings to support his principle will 
lead us to no other. At the same time it must be 
observed, he has laid down the proposili m so loosely 
and ambiguously, that, when considered alone, it may 
either mean, cc that the power of speaking strange 
languages was oijly infused occasionally, like ti^e 
power of working miracles ;" or else, e< that the know 
ledge of the language, when infused, was not Idsting, 
but momentary, like the cloven tongues; the inspired 
linguist presently falling back into his natural state of 
idiotisrn." 

In the first sense, the assertion seems to be well 
founded : and from its sobriety, and more especially 
from the extravagance of the other meaning, which 
leaves but little distinction between the power of 
speaking strange tongues at the day of Pentecost, 
and the ecstatic ravings of modern fanatics, one 
would wish to find was the sense we could fairly 
ascribe to it. 

* P. 87. t P- 89- 

But 



156 THE DOCTRINE [Book I. 

But then all the arguments employed by the learned 
person, for the support of his proposition, confine us, 
as we shall now see, to the other meaning. 

1. His first argument is the authority of some 
modern critics*. But 1 may be excused, if I suffer 
these to have no more weight with me when they con 
tradict a received interpretation, than they usually have 
with him when they confirm it. 

2. His second argument is an inference from Scrip 
ture itself. " It appears (he thinks) from the stories 
of Cornelius s family, and the disciples at Ephesus 
(both of whom spoke with tongues on the Holy 
Ghost s descending on them, while Peter preached to 
one, and Paul baptized the other), that the gift was 
not lasting, but instantaneous ; and given only for a 
sign of their real admission into the church of Christ:" 
for, as he truly observes, " here was no room to 
" suppose another uce, the several assemblies being 
" all of the same speech and language f/ 

But here the learned person from particular cases 
draws a general inference : because, in this case, he 
sees no other use than for a sign, he concludes the 
gift to be momentary in all other. By a better way of 
reasoning therefore, he will suffer us to conclude, that 
where we do see another use, as in the gift at Pentecost, 
that there it was as lasting as the use to which it 
served : and an equitable judge will conclude for us 
both, that the same endowment which in one instance 
was transitory, might, in another, last for life. 

The converts of the family of Cornelius, and the 
disciples at Ephesus, were in a private station in the 
church : so that an instantaneous exercise of the power 

* P. 89. t P. 85, 86. 

fully 



Chap. III.] OF GRACE. 

fully answered its end : it was a srg/i that these con 
verts were indeed become members of Christ s mysti 
cal body, the church, as well by the baptism of the 
Spirit as of Water. But the case was different with 
respect to the apostles : they were the appointed 
preachers of the Gospel to remote and barbarous na 
tions : an office not to be discharged without a com 
petent knowledge of the various languages of the earth. 
We find them, on the day of Pentecost, miraculously 
endowed with this knowledge. What are we to think, 
but that the PRINCIPAL end of the gift was to qualify 
them for their mission ? 

3. The learned writer s third argument in support 
of his opinion, is taken from the style of Scripture, 
and is to this purpose : " that were the gift of tongues 
lasting, it would have been employed in the composi 
tion of their gospels and epistles : but that it was not 
there employee?, appears from the barbarity of the 
style ; since whatever comes from God must be per 
fect in i^s kind ; so that, in this case, we should be 
sure to find the purity of Plato, and the eloquence of 
Cicero." But the consideration of this argument 
coming more propeily under another head of this 
discourse, for that we shall reserve it; and might here 
take leave of this subject, (he duration of the gift of 
twigifts ; as the common opinion remains unimpaired 
by his attack, and is still in possession of all the cir 
cumstances of credit in which he found it. 



CHAP. III. 



YET since this new interpretation (which makes 
the gift so transitory, and the power conferred by it 
so momentary] may be applied by licentious men to 

VOL. VIII. S purposes 



258 THE DOCTRINE [Book I. 

purposes the learned person might never intend, it 
cannot be too carefully considered. 

Who hath not heard of the wondrous powers of the 
imagination, when raised and inflamed by fanaticism ? 
and though we be ignorant of its utmost force, yet we 
know enough of it to convince us, that this faculty of 
the mind, the nurse and parent of enthusiasm, is able 
to put on every form of preternatural semblance. 
There are many well-attested cases in modern history 
(although we should agree that they have lost nothing 
of the marvellous in the telling), where enthusiasts, in 
their ecstasies, have talked very fluently in the learned 
languages, of which they had a very imperfect know 
ledge in their sober intervals. " When I saw (says- 
" the noble author of the Characteristics) the gen- 
" tleman, who has writ lately in defence of revived 
" prophecy (and has since fallen himself into the 
" prophetic ecstasies) lately under an agitation (as 
" they call it) uttering prophecy in a pompous Latin 
" style, of which out of his ecstasy, it seems, he is 
" wholly incapable, it brought into my mind the 
" Latin poet s description of the Sibyl *," c. And 
it is remarkable, that instances of this kind have oc 
curred so frequently, that Thyrasus, a famous Popish 
exorcist, as blinded as he was by the superstitious 
impiety of demoniacal possessions, has, in his Direc 
tory, expressly declared it to be the common opinion 
of his brotherhood, that the speaking strange languages 
is no certain sign of a possession, and warns the exor 
cist against this illusion f. 

Now were it generally believed that I lie speaking 
with strange tongues in the first ages of Christianity, 
was a mere fleeting, transitory power, the bold licence of 

* Letter concerning Enthusiasm, 6. 
t De Dsemoniacis, c. xxii. 

our 



Chap. III.] OP GRACE. 259 

our times would be ready to conclude that it was much 
of the same kind with these feats of modern fanatics. 
For let us consider how the matter would be thought 
to stand, on the representation of this learned writer : 
a sudden flash of lightning, under the fancied figure of 
cloven tongues, kindles the fiery imaginations of a 
number of enthusiastic men, met together in a tumul 
tuary assembly, and inflaming one another s fanaticism 
by mutual collision ; and in this temper, they began to 
speak with tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance. 

I shall therefore endeavour to shew, in the last place, 
that this new interpretation contradicts what SCRIP 
TURE itself expressly delivers of the USE, and, by neces* 
sary inference, of the duration of this gift of tongues 
on the day of Pentecost. 

The learned writer affirms, " that this knowledge 
was transitory, serving only for an occasional sign 8 and 
not intended for the use of the apostolic mission." 
Now Jesus himself tells us, that it was intended for 
this use : who, on his leaving the world, comforts his 

disciples with this promise : But ye shall receive 

POWER, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you: 
and ye shall be WITNESSES unto me, unto the UTTER 
MOST PART OF THE EARTH *, recorded by the evan* 
gelic writer, as an introduction to his narrative of the 
miraculous gift of tongues ; which he considers as the 
completion of this promise; and that the power to be 
received, was the power then given: the use of which, 
as we see, was to enable the disciples to become wit- 
nexses unto him, unto the uttermost part oj the earth. 
^Ve find St. Paul had this power, not only in the fullest 
measure, but in a proportionable duration; for, endea 
vouring to moderate the excessive value which the 
Corinthians set upon spiritual gtjts, he observes, that, 

* Acts i. 8. 

s 2 with 



260 THE DOCTRINE [Book I. 

with regard to the most splendid of them, the gift of 
tongues, he himself had the advantage of them all 
/ thank my God (says he) that* I speak with tongues 
more than you all *. The occasion shews that he con 
sidered this his acquirement as a spiritual gift : and 
his using the present time, shews that he boasted of it 
as then in his possession. But why did he speak with 
more tongues than all of them ? For a good reason ; 
he was the peculiar apostle of the Gentiles ; and was 
to preach the Gospel amongst remote and barbarous 
nations. Whom then shall we believe ? Shall we take 
his word who promised the gift; shall we take his, on 
whom it was bestowed ; or shall we prefer to both, the 
conjectures of this learned and ingenious modern ? 
Would reason or the truth of thing s suffer us to !*: 

o 

so compliant, we might concede to unbelievers all 
which they fancy the learned writer hath procured for 
them, " that the power of tongues was temporary, and, 
like the power of healing, possessed occasionally/ 
without being alarmed at any consequence they will be 
able to deduce from it. For let it but be granted (and 
they must grant it, or prevaricate) that the gift of 
tongues returned as often as they had occasion for it ; 
and it is no great matter where the power resided in 
the mean time. 

But neither reason nor the truth of things will suffer 
us to be thus compliant. The power of healing or of 
working miracles (to which the learned writer compare* 
the gift of tongues) is, during the whole course of its 
operation, one continued arrest or diversion of the 
general laws of matter und motion : it was therefore 
fitting that this power should be given occasionally. 
But the speaking with tongues, when once the gift was 
conferred, became, from thenceforth, a natural power ; 

* l Cor. xiv. 18. /x,X? k oir yAWK XaAwr. 

just 



Chap. IV.] OF GRACE. 261 

just as the free and perfect use of the members of the 
body, afbr they have been restored, by miracle, to 
the exercise of their natural functions. Indeed, to have 
lost the i;ift of tongues after this temporary use of it, 
would imply another miracle ; for it must have^ been 
by actual deprivation, unless we suppose the apostles 
mere irrational organs through which divine sounds 
were conveyed. In a word, it was as much in the 
course of nature for an apostle, whom the Holy Spirit 
on the day of Pentecost had enabled to speak a strange 
language, ever afterwards to have the use of that 
language, as it was for the cripple, whom Jesus had 
restored to the use of his limbs on the Sabbath-day, 
ever afterwards to walk, run, and perform all trie 
functions of a man perfectly sound and whole. In 
one thing, indeed, the power of healing, and of speak 
ing with strange tongues coincided ; as the disciples 
could not heal at all times, so neither could they apeak 
at all times in what unknown dialect they should 
choose to converse : Yet when ouce, by the Holy 
Spirit, they had been enabled to speak and uuderstdnd 
a language, they could not but retain the use of it, 
with the same facility as if they had acquired it in the 
ordinary way of instruction. But the confusion in this 
affair, and the learned person s enibarras when he states 
the question, arise from not distinguishing in these two 
cases, between the active power and the pa^icf. gift. 
In healing, the apostles are to be considered as the 
workers of a miracle; in speaking strange tongues, as 
the persons on whom a miracle is performed. 



CHAP. IV. 

THUS far with regard to this extraordinary descent 
of the Holy Ghost, as the GUIDE OF TRUTH. And 

s 3 this 



262 THE DOCTRINE [Book I. 

this being as well the FIRST FRUITS as the TYPE and 
SEAL of all in-spircd kno:* ledge, the sacred h^torian 
thought proper to give us a circumstantial relation of 
so important an adventure. 

The other endowments from the Spirit of truth he 
hath mentioned only occasionally. So that, had not 
the subject of one of St. Paul s epistles led the writer 
to enumerate tho-e various gifts, a> they were after 
wards distributed amongst the faithful, we should have 
had a very imperfect knowledge of their whole extent. 
The church of Corinth was foolishly elated by spiritual 
pride; which St. Paul endeavoured to mortify and hum 
ble : and in applying his remedy, he begins with reck 
oning up those various graces, the credit of which they 
had abused, by their indulgence of this unhappy tem 
per Concerning spiritual gifts (says he) I would not 
hare you ignorant, ^ oic there are dreeriitie* of gifts, 
but the same Spirit. To one is given by the Spirit, the 
-WORD OF WISDOM; to another) the WORD OF KNOW 
LEDGE by the fame Spirit] to another, the GIFTS OF 
HEALING by the same Spirit] to another, WORKING 
OF MIRACLES; to another, PROPHECY; to another^ 
DISCERNING OF SPIRITS*. And when he comes to 
apply his premisses, and to shew the inferiority of all 
these gifts to charity, he recapitulates the most dis 
tinguished of them in the following manner: though 
I have the gift of PROPHECY, and understand all 
MYSTERIES, and alt KNOWLEDGE : and though I have 
all FAITH so that I could remove mountains, and have 
mt charity, I am nothing^. 

In explaining the nature of these gifts, the two pas 
sages will afford light to one another. 

The first he mentions, is the WORD OF WISDOM ;. 
By which, I think, we must understand, all the great 

* i Cor. xii. J, & seq. f Ib. xiii, <2. J Aoy? c-tpW 

principles 



Chap. IV.] OF GRACE. 

prmdftes ef uatvral rOgp***. Tbe anckafe used 
the term in this seise; and we can hardly give k 
another, in the place before us, where we see k dk- 

iished from the WORD OF DTOWIXDGE f, which 
foHows, and evidently means aU the great prmapU* 
of the reveefal; the* term r*"*; being as peculiarly 
applied by m writers to revealed Retigwo^, 

as re** b bv i i, to natural: and k is no less 

. _ ..-.:. .: . 

: chapter, with one of ks spfdes, ail MTSTET 
and att kmotcledge: for myatery n that part of hwr- 
ledge which regards the interpretataon of soch Jewish 
prophecies as concern the mcsp dafouatim. In a 
word, ourapofcde, speaking m another place of Christ, 
who perfected Rezdation, baft (from ks first deSvery 
and rjdimeots) on natural VeGgiim, uses the two 
terms in these assigned significations In zrkcm (sap 
he) are kid all the treatxres ^WISDOM and 



FAITH, we see, b leckooed 

ae ward, OJ. IT. 5. 




_- - ... -, . 
csioij, lp&aa*Ljm 




904 THE DOCTRINE [Book L 

amongst the gifts of the Spirit : and in the following 
chapter, where these graces are again mentioned, ho 
explains its nature to us, in calling it a Faith which 
Widd remove mountain?,, or such a Faith as was at 
tended with the power of controlling nature; alluding 
to that want, with which Jesus upbraids his disciples, 
\vhere he says, had ye Faith as a grain of mustard- 
seed, ye should say unto this mountain, Remove hence 
into yonder place, and it shall remove *. 

The two next gilts, of HEALING and WORKING 
MIRACLES, are two specieses of the foregoing genus. 
By healing is meant that salutary assistance adminis 
tered to the sick, in a solemn office of the church, as 
directed by St. James f : and by working miracles, a 
more private and extemporaneous exercise of the same 
power, though less confined in its objects ;. 

PROPHECY, which follows, plainly signifies, fore 
telling the future fortunes of the church, to the comfort 
and edification (as St. Paul expresses it) of the assem 
bly. He that pnopiiESfETH speakcth unto men, la 
edification, and exhortation, and comfort . And these 
effects, generally attending the aet of Prophecy, in a 
little time assumed its name ||. But the proper sense 
of Prophecy, and that iq which it is to be understood 

* Matt! xvii. 20. 

f Is amj sick a?nong you? let him call for the Elders of the 

Church ; and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the 

name of the Lord; and the prayer cf Faith [i. e. the fait h men 

tioned just before] shall save the sick, and tlic Lord shall raise him 

. up. Gen. Epist. chap, v- 14. 

J The xot^cpula, la./.ru}v properly expresses gifts belonging to 
the Church as such, and ly^yvpcAi* ovtaptat implies virtue residing 
in the individual or particular Agent. Besides we-may-okservc, 
IO.IA.O.TUI was a less degree of miraculous power than the 
f, and is expressly intimate^ so to be, rtr. 28. 



^iCor.xiv.3. || AsRom.xii, 6. iCor.xiii.g. xiv.i.24. 



Chap. IV.] OF G R A C E. 265 

in this place, is \\ieforctdling things to come; "which 
Jesus himself declares to be one essential part of the. 
office of the Holy Spirit, llowbcit, when the Spirit of 
truth is come, Hewitt guide you into all truth and he 

U ili SHEW YOU THINGS TO COME*. 

The last of these gilts, in the order of things, a$ 
-well as in the apostle s enumeration of them, is the 
DISCERNING OF SPIRITS. The reputation attending 
the exercise of these extraordinary endowments would 
be a strong temptation to impostors to mimic and belie 
their powers ; as \\c see it was in the case of Simon 
the Magician. It graciously pleased the Holy Spirit, 
therefore, amidst the bounty of these gifts, to bestow 
one, whose property it was to bring all the others to 
the test f, by the virtue which the possessor of it had, 
of distinguishing between true and false inspiration, 
where accidental ambiguity or designed imposture had 
made the matter doubtful or suspected. 

These gifts, St. Paul tells us, were severally distri 
buted amongst the Faithful. But tiie apostles them 
selves, as Scripture leads us to conclude, had them all 
in conjunction ; exercised them in fuller measure ; sup 
ported them by additional revelations J ; and (as hath 

* John xvi. 13. x^ r ig%optist atstfyifat 1 I ^v. 

\ o*axicn<; tmviAUTav JaxgjrK is used in other places iu this 
signification ^n tl<; hctxf urtK iMAiyf^juSfi Rom. -xiv. i. -nr^oj 
&axptffip xaXu TI xj xaxS, I leb. v. 14. x>f/xaTa;v, of Spirits or 
divine nfHations. And the Author uses it, a little after, W/*aiU 

, C. XIV. 32. 

J Now, Brethren^ If I come unto you speaking with tongucx, 
shall I profit you, except I skull speak unto you nthtr by 
RrvELATiox, or by kiiniclccfgc, or by prophesying , or by doctrine, 
1 Cor. xiv. 6. And this additional gift of Revelation, which con 
veyed the further knowledge o-f God s will in the Gospel, seems 
properly to have been appropriated to the Apostles, with design 
to dignify their office. 

been 



266 THE DOCTRINE [Book I. 

been proved of one of them at least) possessed them 
by a more lasting title. 

But, for a fuller account of their nature and their 
use, we must have recourse to SCRIPTURE itself, which 
contains the history of their various fruits. And as 
the richest of these fruits is the INSPIRATION OF 
SCRIPTURE itself, I shall select this for the subject of 
what I have further to say of the primitive operations 
of the Holy Spirit; especially as this hath, in these 
latter times, been called in question. 



C H A P. V. 

WE may observe, that the Ministry of the Apostles 
consisted of these two parts : (i.) The temporary and 
occasional instructions of those Christians whom they 
had brought to the knowledge of, and faith in, Jesus, 
the Messiah : (2.) and the care of composing a WRIT 
TEN RULE for the direction of the Church throughout 
all ages. Now it being granted, because, by the his 
tory of the Acts of the Apostles, it may be proved, that 
they were divinely inspired in the discharge of the tem 
porary part ; it must be very strong evidence indeed 
which can induce an unprejudiced man to suspect, that 
they were left to themselves in the execution of the 
other. Their preaching could only profit their contem 
poraries : For instructions conveyed to future ages by 
tradition are soon lost and forgotten ; or, what is worse, 
polluted and corrupted with fables. It is reasonable 
therefore to think, that the .church was provided with 
a WRITTEN RULE. The good providence of God hath 
indeed made this provision. And the Scriptures of 
the New Testament have been received by all the 
Faithful, as divine Oracles, as the inspired dictates of 
the Hqly Spirit ; till superstition extending the notion 

of 



Chap. V.] OF GRACE. 167 

of inspiration to an extravagant length, over-cautious 
Believers joined with Libertines, who had taken advan 
tage of the others folly, to deny or bring in question 
all inspiration whatever. For extremes beget each 
other ; and when thus begotten, they are suffered, in 
order to preserve the balance of the moral system, as 
frequently to support as to destroy one another ; that, 
while they subsist, each may defeat the mischiefs which 
the other threatens ; and when they fall, both of them 
may fall together. 

I shall therefore take upon me to expose the extra 
vagance of either lolly ; and then endeavour to settle 

the TRUE NOTION OF SCRIPTURE INSPIRATION. 

i . We have seen how fully gifted the apostles were 
for the business of their mission. They worked mira 
cles, they spake with tongues, they explained mysteries, 
they interpreted prophecies, they discerned the true 
from the false pretences to the Spirit : And all this, 
for the temporary and occasional discharge of their 
ministry. Is it possible then, to suppose them to be 
deserted by their divine Inlightener when they sat 
down to the other part of their work ; to frame a rule 
for the lasting service of the church ? Can we believe 
that that Spirit, which so bountifully assisted them in 
their assemblies, had withdrawn himself when they re 
tired to their private oratories : or that when their 
speech was with all power, their writings should con 
vey no more than the weak and fallible dictates of 
human knowledge? To suppose the endowments of 
the Spirit to be so capriciously bestowed, would make 
it look more like a mockery than a gift. And, to believe 
all this would be a harder task than what (the Deist 
tells us) religious credulity imposes on us. No candid 
man therefore will be backward to conclude, that what 

powers 



268 T H E D O C T R I N E [Book I, 

powers the apostles had for the temporary use of their 
Ministry, they had, at least in as large a measure, for 
the perpetual service of the church. 

2. St. Paul, where he recommends the study of the 
Scriptures of the Old Testament, to Timothy, expressly 
declares them to be INSPIRED, in that general propo 
sition, AIL Scripture is giocn by inspiration of God*. 
Now if in the Mosaic dispensation, the written rule 
was given by inspiration of God, where the church 
was conducted in every step, at first by oracular res 
ponses, and afterwards by a long series and continued 
succession of Prophets ; and all this under an extra 
ordinary administration of Providence, such as might 
well seem to supersede the necessity of a scriptural in 
spiration ; how confidently may we conclude, that the 
same divine Goodness would give the INFALLIBLE 
GUIDE of an inspired Scripture to the Christian Church, 
where the miraculous influence of the Holy Spirit is 
supposed to have ceased with the apostolic ages, and 
where the administration of Providence is only ordi 
nary ? Nor can it be said, that what St. Paul predi 
cates of Scripture must be confined to the LAW (whose 
very name indeed implies inspiration), and what is 
prefatory to it : since the largeness of his terms, all 
Scripture, extends to the whole canon of the Old 
Testament, as then received by the t\vo churches. 
And this general expression was the more expedient, 
as the historic writings did not either by their nature, 
like the Prophetic, or by their name, like the Legal, 
necessarily imply their coming immediately from God. 
The Canonical books of the OLD Testament, therefore, 
being inspired, Reason directs us to expect the same 
quality in the NEW. And, as in the Old, amongst 

* 2 Tim, iii. 16. 

several 



Chap. V.] O F G R A C E. 269 

several occasional writings, there was the fundamental 
record, or the GREAT CHARTER of the Pentateuch; 
and in the \ r olumes of the Prophets, the Oracular pre 
dictions of the future fortunes of the Church to the 
rriiST coming of the Messiah ; so, in the New, there 
is, besides the occasional Epistles, the authentic 
Record or GREAT CHARTER of the Gospel-Covenant; 
and in the Revelations of St. John, the same divine 
predictions continued to the SECOND coming of the 
Saviour of the world. 

3. The reason of the thing likewise supports us in 
concluding for this inspiration. An universal Rule of 
human conduct implies as unlimited an obedience : 
the nature of such a Rule requiring it to be received 
entire ; and to be observed in every article. But 
when once it is supposed to come to us, though from 
heaven, yet not immediately, but through the canal 
of an uninspired instrument, liable to error both in 
the receiving and in the dispensing of it, men would 
be perpetually tempted to own just as much as, and 
no more than, they liked to believe, or were disposed 
to practise ; and to reject the rest as a mere human 
imposition. Nay the very reasons which the v/riters 
against this inspiration give us, why it is not afforded, 
seem to shew the necessitw.bv it should: such as the 

^ -j 

imperfect knowledge that the Apostles had of the 
genius of Christianity; their disputes and differences 
with one another ; their mistakes in matters of easy 
prevention, though of little consequence, c. For if 
the composers of a Rule of Faith for the universal 
Church were thus naturally defective in historic and 
religious knowledge, Whut security could we have 
for their not misleading us in things of moment, unless 
prevented by the guard and guidance of the Holy 

Spirit, 



270 THE DOCTRINE [Book I. 

Spirit, "while they engaged themselves in this important 
task ? 

I am enough sensible of the weakness and folly of 
that kind of reasoning which concludes from right to 
fact ; and assumes, that because a thing is imagined 
to be expedient, useful, or necessary in God s moral 
Government, that therefore he hath indeed made pro 
vision for it. Thus the Papal Doctors, in their argu 
ments for the standing power of Miracles and the 
appointment of an infallible guide , having endeavoured 
to shew that the first is necessary for those without) 
and the second for those within, would draw us to 
conclude with them, that the true church hath, in 
fact, the exercise and use of MIRACLES and INFALLI 
BILITY. 

But the cases are widely different. It is by no means 
agreed, that the Church, after the apostolic ages, was 
in the possession of so large a portion of the Holy 
Spirit as to enable either this pretended HEAD, or its 
MEMBERS, to exert the powers in question: Whereas 
it is confessed by all, that at the time these Scrip 
tures were written, the composers of them were di 
vinely inspired for the occasional work of the ministry : 
and the only question in dispute is, whether that Spirit 
which aided them in defending the Gospel before the 
tribunals of Kings and Magistrates * in working mi 
racles before the multitude of Unbelievers and in 
prophesying and explaining mysteries to the assemblies 
of the faithful whether this Spirit, 1 say, did accom 
pany, or desert them, when they retired within them- 

* And "when they bring you unto the Synagogues, and unto Af- 
gistrntes and Powers, take ye no thought how or what thing ye shall 
answer, or u hat ye shall say : for the Holy Ghost shall teach you 
in the same hour what ye ought to say. Luke xii. 11, 12. 

selves, 



Chap. V.] OF GRACE. 271 

selves, to compose a RULE OF FAITH for the per 
petual service of the Church ? 

4. But, lastly, we have the clear testimony of Scrip 
ture for this inspiration. And though the bearing 
witness to itself* might be reasonably objected in an 
argument addressed to Unbelievers, yet being here 
info reed against such of the faithful who doubt or 
hesitate concerning the inspiration of the New Testa 
ment, it hath all the propriety we can desire. 

I venture therefore to say, that St. Paul, in the 
general proposition quoted above, which affirms that 
alt Scripture is given by inspiration of God f , ne 
cessarily includes the scriptures in question ; what it 
predicates of alt Scripture taking in the new as well as 
old; as well that which was to be written, as that 
which \vas already collected into a canon. For the 
term, Scripture, as the context leads us to under 
stand it, is general, and means a religious rule, per 
fect in its direction, for the conduct of human life, 
in belief and practice : it being under this idea that 
he recommends the Scriptures to Timothy. The 
assertion therefore is universal, and amounts to this, 
" That divine inspiration is an essential quality of 
every Scripture, which constitutes the LAW or RULE 
of a religion coming from God/* 

On the whole then, we conclude, that all the Scrip 
tures of the Ne:v Testament were given by inspiration 
of God. And thus the prophetic promise of our 
blessed Master, that the Comforter should abide with 
us for ever, was eminently fulfilled. For though, ac 
cording to the promise, his ordinary influence occa 
sionally assists the faithful of all ages, yet his constant 

* If I bear witness of wysclf, my witness is not true. John v. 31. 

.C, 

abode 



272 THE DOCTRINE [Book L 

abode and supreme illumination is in the sacred Scrip* 
tures of the New Testament** 

* The kite Mr. William Law, \vho obscured a good under-* 
standing by the fumes of the rankest enthusiasm, and depraved a 
stand judgment, still further, by the prejudices he took up against 
all sobriety in religion, seized the above paragraph, as lie found 
it detached from the discourse in a quotation made of it, by an 
ingenious writer; and thus descants upon it : " Dr. Warburton s 
" doctrine is this, that the inspired books of the New Testament 
" is the Comforter or Spirit of truth and Illuminator, \vhich is 
meant by Christ s being always with the Church. Let us 
" therefore put the Doctor s doctrine into the letter of the text, 
" which will best show how true or false it is. Christ saith, If 
" any man love me, ?ny Father will loi c him, and we will come unto 
(l him, and make our abode tilth him. That is, according to the 
" Doctor s theology, certain books of Scripture will come to him, 
" and make their abode with him ; for he expressly confineth the 
" constant abode and supreme illumination of (iod to the holy 
" Scriptures. Therefore (horrible to say) God s inward presence, 
" his OPEKATING row nil OF UIE and light in our souls, his 
4< dwelling in us, and we in him, is something of a lower nature, 
that only may occasionally happen, and has less cf God in it 
" than the dead letter of Sciipture, which alcne is the constant 
* abode and supreme illumination. Miserable fruits of a para- 
" doxical genius i" A humble, earnest, and ajf^tiotiate Addrcas to 
the Clergy, p. 69, 70. 

This poor man, whether misled by his fanaticism or his spleen, 
has here fallen into a trap which his folly laid for his malice. 
In the discourse, from whence the paragraph so severely handled 
is taken, I treated distinctly of these two branches of the Holy 
Spirit; l. As he illuminates the understanding under the title cf 
the Spirit of truth. <2. As lie rectifies the uill under the title of 
the Comforter : by the first of which, he establishes our faith; 
i\r.(\ by the second, he perfects our obedience. 

Now it is under the first branch in which this obnoxious 
paragraph is found. So that common sense and common honesty 
require, that when I say, the constant abode ami supreme illumi 
nation of the Hol$ Spirit is in the Sacred Scripture* of the Nci 
Testament, I should be understood to mean, that he is there only 
as the illuminator of the understanding, the cslabliahcr of our faith- 
But Mr. Law applies my words to the other branch of his office^ 
as the rectifier of the Will, the perfect er of obedience ; and so 
makes my observation nonsense in order to arraign it of impiety. 



Chap. VI. OF GRACE, 



CHAP. VI. 

I T remains only to be considered, in what sense we 
are to understand this inspiration ? 

A spurious opinion, begotten in the Jewish church 
by superstition, and nursed up by mistaken piety in 
the Christian, hath almost passed into an article of 
faith, " That the language of Scripture was dictated 
by the Holy Spirit in such sort that the writers were 
but the passive organs through which every word and 
letter were conveyed. And as superstition seldom 
knows where to stop, the Mahometans improved upon 
this fancy, and represented their Scriptures as sent 
them down from Heaven ready written. Having got 
into so fair a train, the next theological question in 
honour of the Alcoran was, whether it was created or 
uncreated , and the orthodox determination, we may 
be sure, was in favour of the latter. But it was a rab^ 
binical hyperbole, concerning the unvariable reading 
of the copies of the Law, which seems to have given 
the Mahometan doctors a hint for this last conceit, 
concerning the physical nature of the Alcoran *. 

But there are many objections to that idea of or 
ganic inspiration, which mistaken piety hath adopted. 

i. It would be putting the Holy Spirit on an unne 
cessary employment ; for much of these sacred volumei 

* Orobio, speaking the language of the Rabbins, says, Liber 
Mosis est ita perfectus et purus, atque ab erroribus alienus, ab 
ejus conditore per tot secula variis in nationibus servatus, ut 
ccetera naturalia qtwe Deus non corruption! exposita creaiit ; ut 
Cceli, Sol et A*tra, quae a sua formatione non majore Providentia 
incorrupta, servantur et subsistunt, quain divini legis libri, qul 
cunquam aliquam rnutationem experti, fuerunt Apud Lijnb, 
p. 147. 

VOL, VIIL T being 



274 THE DOCTRINE [Book I. 

being historical, and of facts and discourses which had 
fallen under the observation of the writers, they did 
not need his immediate assistance to do this part of 
their business for them. 

2. Had the Scriptures been written under this or 
ganic inspiration, there must have heen the most per 
fect agreement amongst the four Evangelists, in every 
circumstance of the smallest fact. But we see there 
is not this perfect agreement. In some minute par 
ticulars, which regard neither faith nor manners, neither 
the truth nor certainty of the History in general, the 
several writers vary from one another. A variation, 
which, though it discredits the notion of an organic 
inspiration, yet (which is of much more importance) 
supports the fidelity of the historians ; as it shews that 
they did not write in concert, or copy from one an 
other ; but that each described the proper impressions 
which the same facts had made upon himself. 

3. Were this the true idea of Scripture-inspiration, 
that each writer was but the mere organ of the Spirit, 
the phraseology or turn of expression had teen one 
-and the same throughout all the sacred books written 
in the same language: whereas we find it to be very 
different and various; always corresponding to the 
conditions, tempers, and capacities of the writers. 

4. Lastly, the very words of Scripture must, in 
this case, have been preserved, throughout all ages, 
perfectly pure and free from the corruptions and 
mistakes of transcribers. For if it were expedient, 
useful, and sorting with the views of divine wisdom, 
that every word and letter should be inspired, it was 
equally expedient that every word and letter should be 
preserved uncorrupt; otherwise the Holy Spirit would 
appear to have laboured in vain. Now general ex- 

g2 perience 



Chap. VII] OF GRACE. 275 

perience assures us, that this is not the case; frequent 
transcribing hath occasioned numerous variations in 
words and phrases, throughout all the Scriptures of the 
New Testament. But though this opposes the notion 
of organic inspiration, yet the harmless nature of the 
variations, which never disturb the sense, nor obscure 
a single proposition of Faith, or precept of good man 
ners, affords us a noble instance of the gracious pro 
vidence of God, in bringing down to us those Scrip 
tures, destined for an Infallible rule, incorrupt and 
entire, in all essential and even material points; 
though, after escaping the impure hands of so many 
outrageous bigots, schismatic visionaries, and heretical 
seducers, they had a long journey still to run, through 
the dark cloisters of dreaming superstition, and of 
ignorance but half awake. 

From all this we conclude, that the notion of organic 
inspiration must needs be false : and yet we have proved 
it to be an undoubted truth, that the Scriptures of 
the New Testament were given by the inspiration of 
God. 



CHAP. VII. 

LET us consider, then, in what sense this inspira 
tion is to be understood. From the premises we can 
deduce no other notion of it but this, " That the Holy 
Spirit so directed the pens of these writers, that no con 
siderable error should fall from them : by enlightening 
them with his immediate influence in all such matters 
as were necessary for the instruction of the Church, 
and which, either through ignorance or prejudice, they 
would otherwise have represented imperfectly, par 
tially, or falsely ; and by preserving them by the more 
ordinary means of providence, from any mistakes of 

X 2 consequence, 



376 THE DOCTRINE [Book I. 

consequence, concerning those things whereof they 
had acquired a competent knowledge by the common 
way of information. In a word, by watching over them 
incessantly ; but with so suspended a hand, as permit 
ted the use, and left them to the guidance, of their own 
faculties, while they kept clear of error ; and then only 
interposing when, without this divine assistance, they 
would have been in danger of falling." 

This seems to be the true idea of the inspiration in 
question. This only doth agree with all appearances ; 
arid will fully answer the purpose of an inspired writing, 
which is to afford an INFALLIBLE RULE for the direc 
tion of the Catholic Church. 

But it is not only the nature and genius, the state 
and condition of Holy Scripture, which support this 
idea of inspiration : the express words of its composers 
lead to the same conclusion. St. Peter, speaking of 
the Epistles of his fellow-labourer St. Paul, uses this 
temperate expression concerning their inspiration ; he 
hath written to you, says he, according to the wisdom 
given unto him * : Now, as on the one hand, by the 
character of this wisdom, which is said to be GIVEN , 
we must conclude it to be that wisdom coming imme 
diately from above ; so, from this account of the 
Apostle s free use of it, who employed it as the regu 
lator of his thoughts and conceptions, we must conclude 
on the other, that there was no inspiration ruling 
irresistibly, further than to secure the writer from error 
and mistake. And the diffidence with which the 
Apostle himself speaks, on a certain occasion f, con 
cerning his inspiration, shews that it could not be 
organic, for this species excludes all doubt and uncer 
tainty concerning its presence. 

* KATA T} HUTU AO0EI2AN <ro$w 2 Pet. iii. 15. 

f- SOKU ft xtfyu qjnvpa, e ippHu 1 Cor. vii. 40. 

But 



Chap. VII.] OF GRACE. 277 

But it may be said, that, on this moderated idea of 
inspiration, we shall never be able to distinguish which 
parts were written under the immediate influence of 
the Spirit, and which were the product of human know 
ledge only. What if we shall not ? Where is the 
mischief or inconvenience ? While all we want to know- 
is, that every sentence of Scripture, which but remotely 
concerns either faith or practice, is infallibly true. It 
is of little consequence to us to be instructed how or in 
what manner that truth came to be secured : whether 
by direct inspiration : or by that virtual superintend 
ence of the Spirit, which preserved the writers of it 
from error. Scripture is the rule of Christian conduct ; 
and if the rule be known to be unerring, this is all that 
is wanting to effectuate its end. 

And yet I am persuaded, licentious men have been 
the forwarder to contend for this moderated inspiration, 
under the idea of a partial one, on the pleasing fancy 
that it would support them in believing no more than 
suited with their principles or their practice. But, 
what hath been observed on this head sufficiently ex 
poses the vanity of all such idle contrivances to let 
men loose from any part of their faith or duty. For, 
be it admitted that this or that particular doctrine or 
precept was not delivered under the immediate influ 
ence of the Holy Spirit, but was conveyed to posterity, 
in the common way of history, as the writer received 
it from his Master, yet this takes nothing at all from 
that certainty of truth which attends director inspira 
tion; since the rational idea of a partial influence im 
plies, that the Spirit so watched over the authors of the 
New Testament, and so guided their pens, as to admit 
no mixture of mate-rial error in those parts where they 
discharged no more than the function of ordinary 
historians. 

T 3 In 

\ 



THE DOCTRINE [Bookl. 

In a word, it imports us little to be solicitous about 
the Scriptural DELIVERY of Gospel truths ; whether 
they be conveyed to us by means merely human, or 
by the more powerful workings of the Holy Spirit, so 
long as we are assured that Divine Providence guarded 
that delivery from all approach of error. But then 
let us observe, that this is a very different thing from 
the ORIGIN E of the truths themselves : for on this latter, 
the reality of our religion, indeed, depends ; the very 
nature of it consisting in this, that the doctrines which 
it teacheth be not only truths SIMPLY, but truths 
REVEALED from Heaven. And indeed, even with 
regard to the delivery, when the writers propose any 
thing of faith or practice, explanatory of what their 
Master taught, and not explicitly contained in his 
words, we must needs conclude, that so far forth they 
were under the immediate direction of the Holy Spirit, 
who was to teach them all things : and this influence 
the Apostle calls, speaking by revelation *. 

Thus we see the advantages resulting from a PARTI A j, 
INSPIRATION, as here contended for and explained. It 
answers all the ends of a Scripture universally and 
organically inspired, by producing an UNERRING KULE 
of Faith and Manners ; and, besides, obviates all those 
objections to inspiration which arise from the too high 
notion of it : such as trifling errors in circumstances of 
small importance ; for the least error is inconsistent 
with organic inspiration, but may well stand with a 
virtual and co-operating influence : such again, as the 
various readings in the several transcripts ,* and the 
various styles amongst the several authors of Scrip 
ture: inconsistencies which would never have been 
permitted, and contrarieties which could never have 
happened, under universal inspiration; but which 

* \v /** VIMV tetiffo AnOKAATPJEL 1. Cor. xiv. 6. 

are 



Chap. VIII.] OF GRACE. 279 

a-re the natural and harmless consequences of the 
PARTIAL. 

In a word, by admitting no more than this lower kind 
of inspiration, so warmly contended for (and in terms 
as vague and indeterminate as the Scepticism of the 
users) by men who were in hopes that the admission 
of it would end in no inspiration at all, we secure and 
establish the infallible word of Scripture; and free it 
from all those embarrassing circumstances which have 
been so artfully and disingenuously thrown out to its 
discredit. 



CHAP. VIII. 

BUT there is no idea of an inspired Scripture, which 
libertine men have not perverted to serve their evil 
purposes. Thus, when their own idea of a partial 
inspiration hath failed in this service, they have tried 
what mischief that other, of our invention, an organic 
inspiration, was likely to produce. In order to this, 
they have laid it down as a proposition not likcjy to 
be contested, " that, on this idea, the work inspired 
could be RO other than a perfect model of eloquence, 
pure, clear, noble, and affect h/g beyond the force of 
common speech" To this, it was thought enough to 
shew, that their principle was false ; that, in the com 
position of sacred Scripture, there was no organic 
inspiration: ar)d this, I presume, I have sufficiently 
performed. 

But, luckily for their purpose, there is another cir 
cumstance in the dispensation of Grace, which restores 
their objection, concerning a perfect model of eloquence, 
to its native force. This circumstance therefore is now 
to be considered ; the use made of it, fairly repre- 

T 4 sented ; 



280 THE DOCTRINE [Book I. 

sented ; and the proper reasoning applied, to enervate 
its new recovered force. 

The circumstance is this : Several books of the New 
Testament are written by persons who acquired the 
knowledge of the Greek tongue by miraculous infusion, 
as at the day of Pentecost. " Now the Holy Ghost, 
say they, could not but inspire the purest Greek, and 
the most perfect eloquence in the use of it ; whatever 
they wrote therefore in any future time, in this lan 
guage, must needs bear these marks of its celestial 
birth, whether they were assisted in the composition 
by the Holy Spirit, or whether they wrote upon the 
fund of their formerly acquired knowledge. But the 
language of all the books of the New Testament is 

o o 

utterly rude and barbarous, and savours nothing of so 
high an original." 

The learned person (whose reasoning against the 
duration of the inspired knowledge of language on the 
day of Pentecost, hath been considered above) lends 
the Libertine these arms, in his concluding argument, 
in support of that notion ; which argument I have re 
served to be considered in this place. 

" If we allow (says he) the gift to be lasting, we 
" must conclude that some at legist of the books of 
" Scripture were in this inspired Greek. But (says he) 
" we should naturally expect to find an inspired lan- 
* guage to be such as is worthy of God ; that is, pure, 
" clear, noble, and aftecting, even beyond the force of 
common speech ; since nothing can come from God 
" but what is perfect in its kind. In short, the purity 
" of Plato, and the eloquence of Cicero. Now (con- 
" tinues he) if we try the apostolic language by this 
" rule, we shall be so far from ascribing it to God, 
" that we shall scarce think it worthy of Man, that is, 
" of the liberal and polite ; it being utterly rude and 

" barbarous 



Chap. VIII.] OF GRACE. 281 

" barbarous, and abounding with every fault that can 
" possibly deform a language. And though some 
11 writers, prompted by a false zeal, have attempted 
" to defend the purity of the Scripture-Greek, their 
" labour has been idly employed *." 

These triumphant observations are founded on two 
propositions, both of which he takes for granted ; and 
yet neither of them is true. 

i . The one, That an inspired language must needs 
be a language of perfect eloquence. 2. The other, 
That eloquence is something congenial and essential 
to human speech. I shall shew the falsehood of both. 

With regard to the first proposition, I will be bold 
to affirm, that were the STYLE of the New Testament 
exactly such as his very exaggerated account of it 
would persuade us to believe, namely, that it is utterly 
rude and barbarous, and abounding with every fault 
that can possibly deform a language, this is so far 
from proving such language not divinely inspired, that 
it is one certain mark of this original. 

I will not pretend to point out which books of the 
New Testament were or were not composed by those 
who had the Greek tongue thus miraculously infused 
into them ; but this I will venture to say, that the 
style of a writer so inspired, who had not (as these 
writers had not) afterwards cultivated his knowledge of 
the language on the principles of Grecian eloquence, 
would be precisely such as we find it in the books of 
the New Testament. 

For, if this only be allowed, which no one, I think, 
will contest with me, that a strange language acquired 
by illiterate men, in the ordinary way, would be full 
of the idioms of their native tongue, just us the Scrip - 

* Dr. Middleton s Essay on the Gift of Tongues, Works, vol. ii. 
P- ?* 

ture- 



282 THE DOCTRINE [Book! 

ture-Greek is observed to be full of Syriasms and 
Hebraisms ; how can it be pretended, by those who 
reflect upon the nature of language, that a strange 
tongue divinely infused into illiterate men, like that 
at the day of Pentecost, could have any other proper 
ties or conditions ? 

Let us weigh these cases impartially. Every lan 
guage consists of two distinct parts ; the single terms, 
and the phrases and idioms. The first, as far as con 
cerns appellatives especially, is of mere arbitrary im 
position, though on artificial principles common to all 
men : The second arises insensibly, but constantly, 
from the manners, customs, and tempers of those to 
whom the language is vernacular ; and so becomes, 
though much less arbitrary (as what the Grammarians 
call congruity is more concerned in this part than in 
the other), yet various and different as the several 
tribes and nations of mankind. The first therefore is 
unrelated to every thing but to the genius of language 
in general : the second hath an intimate connexion with 
the fashions, notions, and opinions of that people only, 
to whom the language is native. 

Let us consider then the constant way which illiterate 
men take to acquire the knowledge of a foreign tongue. 
Do they not make it their principal, and, at first, their 
only study, to treasure up in their memory the signifi 
cation of the terms? Hence, when they come to talk 
or write in the speech thus acquired, their language is 
found to be full of their own native idioms. And thus 
it will continue, till, by long use of the strange tongue, 
and especially by long acquaintance with the owners 
of it, they have imbibed the particular genius qf the 
language. 

Suppose then this foreign tongue, instead of being 
thus gradually introduced into the minds of these illite 
rate 



Chap. VIIL] OF GRACE. 283 

rate men, was instantaneously infused into them ; the 
operation (though not the very mode of operating) 
being the same, must not the effect be the same, let 
the cause be never so different? Without question. 
The divine impression must be made either by fixing 
the terms or single words only and their signification 
in the memory; as, for instance, Greek terms corres^ 
ponding to the Syriac or Hebrew ; or else, together 
with that simple impression, another must be made, 
to inrich the mind with all the ideas which go towards 
the composing the phrases and idioms of the language 
so inspired : But this latter impression seems to re 
quire, or rather indeed implies, a previous one, of the 
tempers, fashions, and opinions of the people to whom 
the language is native, upon the minds of those to 
whom the language is thus imparted ; because the 
phrase arid idiom arises from and is dependent on the 
manners arising from thence : and therefore the force 
of expression can be understood only in proportion to 
the knowledge of those manners : and understood they 
were to be : the Recipients of this spiritual gift being 
not organical Canals, but rational Dispensers. So that 
this would be a waste of miracles without a sufficient 
cause; the Syriac or Hebrew idiom, to whidrthe Dis 
ciples were enabled of themselves to adapt the words 
of the Greek or any other language, abundantly serving 
every useful purpose, all which centered in the commu 
nicating Of CLEAR INFORMATION. We Conclude, 

therefore, that what was thus inspired was the TERMS, 
together with that grainmatic congruity in the use 
of them, which is dependent thereon. In a word, to 
suppose such kind of inspired knowledge of strange 
tongues as includes all the native peculiarities, which, 
if you will, you may call their elegancies (for the more 
a language is coloured by the character and manners 

of 



284 THE DOCTRINE [Book I. 

of the native users, the more elegant it is esteemed) ; 
to suppose this, is, as I have said, an ignorant fancy, 
and repugnant to reason and experience. 

Now, from what hath been observed, it follows, that 
if the style of the New Testament were indeed derived 
from a language divinely infused as on the day of Pen 
tecost, it must be just such, with regard to its style, 
\vhichj in fact, we find it to be ; that is to say, Greek 
terms very frequently delivered in Syriac and Hebrew 
idiom. 

The conclusion from the whole is this, that a nominal 
or local barbarity of style (for that this attribute, when 
applied to style, is no more than nominal or local, will 
be clearly shewn under our next head) is so far from 
being an objection to its miraculous acquisition, that it 
is one mark of such extraordinary original. 

But the learned writer is so perfectly satisfied that 
this barbarity of style, which claims the title of inspired, 
is a sure mark of imposture, that he almost ventures 
to foretel, it will prove the destruction of those preten 
sions, as it did to the Delphic Oracles. The parallel, 
he thinks, is a curiosity ; and so do I ; therefore the 
reader shall have it just as he himself has dressed it up. 
" It is somewhat curious to observe, that there was a 
" controversy of the same kind amongst the Ancient 
" Heathens, concerning the style and composition of 
" the Delphic Oracles. For as those Oracles were 
" delivered in verse, and the verses generally rude and 
" harsh, and offending frequently both in the exactness 
" of metre and propriety of language, so men of sense 
" easily saw that they could not be inspired by the 
" Deity : others, on the contrary, blinded by their 
" prejudices, or urged by their zeal, to support the 
" credit of the popular superstition, constantly main- 
" tained, that the verses w.ere really beautiful and 

" noble- 



Chap. VIII.] OF GRACE. 285 

" noble, and worthy of God ; and that the contrary 
" opinion flowed from a false delicacy and sickly taste, 
" which relished no poetry, but what was soft and 
" sweet; and breathing nothing, as it were, but spices 
" and perfumes. The dispute however seems to have 
" been compounded, and a distinction found, in which 
" all parties acquiesced, by allowing some sortofinspi- 
" ration, ami divine authority to the, matter of the 
s( Oracle, but leaving all the rest to the proper talents 
" and faculties of the Prophetess : who being tired at 
" last with the continual labour of versifying, began to 
" utter her Oracles in prose, till the whole imposture 
" fell by degrees into an universal contempt, and so 
" finally expired *." 

A sad story ! But, happily, the essential differences 
between these oracular pretensions, and those of the 
Christian Evangelists (all of which the learned Writer 
has thought proper to overlook), will ease us of our 
fears ; for any one of these differences is sufficient to 
shew, that though the objection may hold good against 
the Heathen Oracles, yet it has not the least force 
against Scripture inspiration. 

i . First then the Delphic Oracles were supposed to 
proceed from the fabled God of verse, who having, 
according to the popular opinion, inspired his Poets 
as well as Prophets, there was, in the writings of the 
most authentic of I\\Q former, a model of divine elo 
quence, on which the pretensions of the latter might 
be estimated. But Scripture inspiration came profes 
sedly from a Deity who had declared that his thoughts 
are not our thoughts, neither are our ways his ways. 
For as the heavens are higher than the earth, Sec. f 

* Essay on the Gift of Tongues, vol. ii. of Middleton s Works, 
pp. 91, 92. t I*auUi Iv. 8, 9., 

2. The 



286 THE DOCTRINE [Book L 

2. The Delphic Oracles were delivered in verse or 
measure; for the composition of which, there were 
established rules, formed on the writings of the ancient 
Poets : when therefore this species of eloquence was 
employed by the Delphic Prophetess, if she conformed 
not to the established rules, but offended against the 
metre, which her own God originally inspired, she 
might be fairly adjudged an impostor. But the in 
spired Penman disclaimed all models of human elo 
quence, and the enticing words of mans wisdom. 

3. The Delphic Prophetess was a mere organ, her 
Prophecies being delivered in a fit of ecstacy, when 
the presence of the God was supposed to obliterate 
all the impressions of human ideas ; so that every iota 
was to be placed to the account of the inspiring God. 
But it was just otherwise with such as were actuated 
by the Holy Spirit : These, in the very moments of 
inspiration, still retained the free use of themselves, 
and continued masters of their rational and persuasive 
faculties; the Spirits of the Prophets (as St. Paul in 
forms us, who spoke from his own experience) were 
sulject to the Prophets * / The Pagan Zealots there 
fore grossly prevaricated, when, to cover the imposture 
of the Delphic Oracle, they compromised the matter 
with their adversaries, by allowing some sort of inspi 
ration, and divine authority, but leaving all the rest 
to the proper talents and faculties of the Prophetess. 
But the Defenders of our holy Religion, when they 
say the same thing in defence of sacred Scripture, do 
neither prevaricate nor compromise; they advance, 
and they adhere to, a reasonable and consistent hypo 
thesis ; which, in an examination of the present state 
of the books of the New Testament as transmitted 

* J Cor. xiv. 32. 

down 



Chap. VIII.] OF GRACE. 287 

down to us from the earliest antiquity, I have shewn 
to be actually supported by fact. 

On the whole, then, we need not be too much 
alarmed at the hint which the learned Writer hath 
here given us, in the fate of the Delphic Oracles, 
though never so tragically related : The Prophetess, 
tired at last with the continual labour of versifyi8g i 
began to utter her oracles in PROSE, //// the whole 
imposture Jell by degrees into an universal contempt, 
and so finally expired; I say we need not be much 
alarmed at this catastrophe, because our Oracles hold 
nothing in common with the Delphic ; and because 
the disgrace brought upon these was derived neither 
from their bad verse nor barbarous prose ; but from 
very different causes ; which the learned Person either 
did not know, or at least did not care that his Reader 
should. 

In a word, there is but one single mark of re 
semblance in all this ostentatious parallel ; and that 
does not lie between the Pagan and Christian Oracles, 
but between their Defenders ; who, \\ ith equal indis 
cretion, contended for purity, elegance, and beauty 
of style, where in one case it was not to be found, 
thcu -ii pretended to ; and in the other, neither pre 
tended to, nor found. The defenders of the Delphic 
Oracles, the learned Person thus describes, that, 
blinded by their prejudices, or urged by their zeal to 
support the credit of the popular superstition, they 
constantly maintained, that the verses were really 
beautiful and noble, and worthy of God; and that 
the contrary opinion flowed from a false delicacy, and 
sickly taste, which relished no poetry, but what was 
soft and sweet, and breathing nothing but spices and 
perfumes. The Defenders of Scripture eloquence he 
had before represented in the same light And 

though 



288 THE DOCTRINE [Book I. 

though some Writers, prompted by a false Zeal, hcroc 
attempted to defend the purity of Scripture-Greek, 
their labours have been idly employed. 

Nothing, indeed, is more certain. Their labours 
have been very idly employed. One common delu 
sion has misled the zealous defenders of all religions 
on this head, not only the Pagan and the Christian, 
but, as we have seen, the Mahometan likewise. And 
here let me observe, what is well worth our notice, 
that that common imbecility of our nature, which 
leads the professors of all Religions into the same 
specific absurdities of the marvellous, though without 
imitating one another, has (when blundering on, in 
the obscure of Superstition, or the blind blaze of 
Fanaticism) generally been more successful in the 
support of false Religion than of the true. Of this I 
have occasionally given divers instances elsewhere. 
One of them, which I just now chanced to mention, 
will deserve to be explained. The Mahometan Doc 
tors were (with their Master) under this common de 
lusion, that an inspired writing must needs be a per 
fect model of eloquence. And they Succeeded better 
than the Christian; for they had advantages which 
our zealots had not. For, first, Mahomet himself de 
livered the Alcoran to his followers under this cha 
racter ; and defied the masters of human eloquence 
to equal it ; whereas the writers of Holy Scripture dis 
claim all these fantastic advantages. Secondly, when 
Mahomet retailed his Alcoran, there was no acknow 
ledged model of Arabic eloquence; but when the 
books of the New Testament were composed, there 
were many, and of the highest authority ; so that those 
bold pretensions easily obtained, and soon smoothed 
the way for its actually becoming such a model. 
Lastly, Enthusiasm, which had just done much greater 

things, 



Chap. IX.] OF GRACE. 289 

things, easily induced the Saracens to believe, that 
they saw what their Prophet so confidently objected 
to their admiration, an all-perfect model of eloquence 
in the Chapters of the Alcoran. And they believed 
so long till the book became in fact, what at first they 
had only fancied it, as real and substantial a pattern 
of eloquence as any whatsoever; a paradox, which, 
like many others that I have had the odd fortune to 
advance, will presently be seen to be only another 
name for Truth. But here in the North-west, our 
enthusiasm is neither so exalted, nor our habits so 
constant. We have neither the knack of persuading 
ourselves so readily, nor the humour of sticking to a 
fashion so obstinately. 

However foolish then Q\\V false Zealots have shewn 
themselves in attempting to defend the purity of the 
Scripture Greek, it little became the learned Writer, 
of all men, to make them the subject of his derision ; 
since the same false principle, which betrayed them 
into one extreme, hath misled him into another. The 
principle I mean (and it has misled many besides) is 
that which lays it down for truth, That an inspired 
Scripture must be a model of perfect eloquence. 



CHAP. ix. 

T H I S brings us to the learned Writer s second 
proposition, which I promised to examine; and on 
which the principle, here delivered, is founded. It 
is this, 

2. That eloquence is something congenial and 
essential to human speech ; and inherent in the con 
stitution of things. 

This supposes, that there is some certain A RCHETYPE 
VOL. VIII. U in 



sgo THE DOCTRINE [Book I. 

in nature, to which that quality refers, and on which 
it is to be formed and modelled. And, indeed, ad 
mitting this to he the case, one should he apt enough 
to conclude, that when the Author of Nature con 
descended to inspire one of these plastic performances 
of human art, he would make it by the exactest 
pattern of the Archetype. 

But the proposition is fanciful and false. Eloquence 
is not congenial or essential to human speech, nor 
is there any Archetype in nature to which that 
quality refers. It is accidental and arbitrary, and 
depends on custom and fashion : It is a mode of human 
communication which changes with the changing cli 
mates of the earth ; and is as various and unstable as 
the genius, temper, and manners of its diversified in 
habitants. For what is PURITY but the use of such 
terms, with their multiplied combinations, as the in 
terest, the complexion, or the caprice of a Writer or 
Speaker of Authority hath preferred to its equals ? 
What is ELEGANCE, but such a turn of idiom as a 
fashionable fancy hath brought into repute ? And what 
is SUBLIMITY, but the application of such images, as 
arbitrary or casual connexions, rather than their own 
native grandeur, have dignified and ennobled ? Now 
ELOQUENCE is a compound of these three qualities 
of Speech, and consequently must be as nominal and 
unsubstantial as its constituent parts. So that that 
mode of composition which is a model of perfect 
eloquence to one nation or people, must appear extra 
vagant or mean to another. And thus in fact it was. 
Indian and Asiatic Eloquence were esteemed hyper 
bolic, unnatural, abrupt, and puerile, to the more 
phlegmatic inhabitants of Rome and Athens. And 
the Western Eloquence, in its turn, appeared nerve 
less and effeminate, frigid or insipid, to the hardy and 

inflamed 



Chap. IX.] OF GRACE. 291 

inflamed imaginations of the East. Nay, what is 
more, each species, even of the most approved genus, 
changed its nature with the change of clime and lan 
guage; and the same expression, which, in one place, 
had the utmost simplicity, had, in another, the utmost 
sublime. 

Longinus reading these words in the Septuagint, 
God said, Let there be light, ami there was light, and 
regulating his ideas on the genius of his own language, 
very acutely gave them as an example of the sublime. 
We may be sure the judgment of so accomplished a 
Critic would be eagerly laid hold on by our Doctor s 
zealous Divines, to exalt the credit of Moses s elocu 
tion. Indeed, the sublime introduction to the book 
of Genesis passed, for a long time, unquestioned. 
At length Huetius and Le Clerc, more carefully at 
tending to the original text, discovered that the words 
were so far from being sublime, that they were of the 
utmost simplicity ; and each of these Critics composed 
a long dissertation to support his opinion. So far 
was well ; but, not content with what they had done, 
they would needs prove that Longinus was mistaken 
in his criticism of the Greek. This provoked the 
Poet Boilcau, who had just translated that celebrated 
work, to support his Author s judgment; and (as he 
was in the same delusion with his adversaries) he did 
it by endeavouring to prove the sublime of the original 
expression. This furnished matter for answers and 
replies in abundance : Whereas, had the disputants 
but reflected, that the same expression, ; which in one 
language was highly sublime, might, in another, be 
extremely simple, the judgment of s the Greek critic 
would have been confessed by-IIuetius and Le Clerc, 
and the biblical knowledge of these two learned In 
terpreters allowed of by Uoileau. As. the reason of 

u 2 all 



29* THE DOCTRINE [Book L 

all this serves to illustrate what is here advanced con 
cerning the nature of eloquence^ I shall endeavour to 
explain it. The ideas arising from the knowledge 
of the true God, and his attributes, were familiar 
to Moses ; and whenever ideas are familiar, they raise 
no emotion ; consequently, the expression of such, 
ideas will naturally be cold and simple. There is 
the utmost simplicity in the words God said, Let 
there be light, and there teas light : and nothing but 
their simplicity would be seen or felt by a Jewish 
Reader, to whom the same religious ideas were equally 
familiar. But let a Greek, brought up and educated 
in the grovelling and puerile notions which his national 
Theology produced and supported, let such a one, I 
say, raise himself with pain, by the strong effort of a 
superior genius,. 

" To the first Good, first Perfect, and first Fair," 

the new ideas, with which his mind is warmed and 
enlarged by the knowledge of the true God and his 
Attributes, naturally produce admiration ; and admi 
ration in a Genius-, is the parent of suUbne expression. 
So that when the subject is Creation, his point will be 
to convey the highest idea of Omnipotence : but the 
effect of divine power, immediately following its vo 
lition, gives that highest idea : therefore, in the midst 
of his sublime conceptions, he will hardly think of any 
other words to convey them than God said, Let 
tfare be light, and there icas light. And every Greek 
Reader, to whom the ideas of true Theology were as 
novel and unfamiliar as they were to the Writer, would 
naturally esteem that expression, which so graphically 
describes the instantaneous production of Omnipo 
tence, to be infinitely SUBLIME. 

Apply all this to the Books of the NEW TESTA- 

* 1 MENT, 



Chap. IX.] OF GRACE. 293 

MEXT, an authorized collection, professedly designed 
for the rule and direction of mankind. Now such a 
rule demanded that it should be inspired of God. 
But inspired writing, the Objectors say, implies the 
most perfect eloquence. What human model then was 
the Holy Ghost to follow? And a human model, of 
arbitrary construction, k must needs be, because there 
was no other: Or if there were another, it would 
never suit the purpose, which was to make an im 
pression on the minds end affections ; and this im 
pression, such an eloquence only as that which had 
gained the popular ear could effect. Should there 
fore the eastern eloquence be employed ? But this 
would be too inflated and gigantic for the West. 
Should it be the western ? But this would be too cold 
and torpid for the East. Or suppose the generic elo 
quence of the more polished Nations was to be pre 
ferred, Which species of it was to be employed? The 
rich exuberance of the Asiatic Greeks, or the dry 
conciseness of the Spartans? The pure and poignant 
ease and flowing sweetness of the Attic modulation, 
or the strength and grave severity of the Roman tone? 
Or should all give way to that African torrent, which 
arose from the fermented mixture of the dregs of 
Greece and Italy, and soon after overflowed the 
Church with theological conceits in a sparkling luxu- 
dancy of thought, and a sombrous rankness of expres 
sion? Thus various were the specieses ! all as much 
decried by a different Genus, and each as much dis 
liked by a different Species, as the eloquence of the 
remotest East and West, by one another. 

But it will be said, Are there not some more sub 
stantial principles of eloquence, common to all ? 
Without doubt, there are. Why then should not 
these have been employed, to do credit to the Apos- 

u 3 tolic 



294 THE DOCTRINE [Book I. 

tolic inspiration? For good reasons: respecting both the 
Speaker and the Hearers. For what is eloquence but a 
persuasive turn given to the elocution, to supply that 
inward, that conscious persuasion of the Speaker, so 
necessary to gain a fair hearing ? But the first Preachers 
of the Gospel did not need a succedaneum to that 
inward conscious persuasion ! And what is the end 
of eloquence, even when it extends no further than 
to those more general principles, but to stifle reason, 
and inflame the passions? But the propagation of 
Christian Truths indispensably requires the aid of 
Ileason, and requires no other human aid. And 
Reason can never be fairly and vigorously exerted 
but in that favourable interval which precedes the 
appeal to the passions. These were the causes which 
forced the Masters of Eloquence to confess, that the 
utmost perfection of their art consists in keeping it 
concealed ; for that the ostentation of it seemed to 
indicate the absence of Truth Ubicunque ars osten- 
datur, says the most candid and able of them all, 
veritas abesse vickatur*. Hence so many various 
precepts to make their most artificial periods appear 
artless. Now surely that was a very suspicious in 
strument for Heaven-directed Men, which, to preserve 
its credit, must pretend absence, and labour to keep 
out of sight. 

What, therefore, do our deas of fit and right tell 
us is required in the style of an universal Law ? Cer 
tainly no more than this To employ those aids 
v/hich are common to all Language as such ; and to 
reject what is peculiar to each, as they are casually 
circumstanced. And what are these aids but CLEAR 
NESS arid PRECISION? By these, the mind and senti 
ments of the Composer are intelligibly conveyed to 
the Reader. These qualities are essential to language, 

* Quint. 1. ix. c. 3. 

as 



Chap. IX.] OF GRACE. 295 

as it is distinguished from jargon : they are eternally 
the same, and independent on custom or fashion. 
To give a language clearness, was the office of Phi 
losophy ; to give it precision, was the office of Grammar. 
Definition performs the first service by a resolution of 
the ideas which make up the terms ; Syntaxis per 
forms the second by a combination of the several parts 
of speech into a systematic congruity : these are the 
very things in language which are least positive, as 
being conducted on the principles of Metaphysics 
and Logic. Whereas, all besides, from the very 
power of the elements, and signification of the terms, 
to the tropes and figures of Composition, are arbi 
trary; and, what is more, as these are a deviation 
from those principles of Metaphysics and Logic, 
they are frequently vicious. This, the great Master, 
quoted above, freely confessed), where speaking of 
that ornamented speech, which he calls c-xij/xaja hsfaus, 
he makes the following confession and apology 
" esset enim omne Schema VITIUM, si non peteretur, 
" sed accideret, Verum auctoritate, vetustate, con- 
" suetudine, plerumque detenditur, sajpe etiam RA- 
" TIONE QUADAM. Idcoque cum sit a simplici 
" rectoque loquendi genere derlexa, virtus est, si 
" habet PROBABILE ALIQUID quod sequatur *." 

Now these qualities of clearness and precision, so 
necessary to the communication of our ideas, emi 
nently distinguish the writers of the New Testament ; 
insomuch that it might be easily shewn, that whatever 
difficulties occur in the sacred volumes, they do not 
arise from any imperfection in the mode of conveying 
their ideas, occasioned by this local or nominal bar 
barity of style ; but either from the sublime or obscure 
nature of the things conveyed to the reader by words 

* Quint. 1. ix. c. 3. 

u 4 or 



296 THE DOCTRINE [Book I. 

or from the purposed conciseness of the writer ; who, 
in the occasional mention of any matter unrelated, or 
not essential, to the dispensation, always affects a stu 
died brevity. 

But further; suppose that, in some cases, an au 
thentic Scripture, designed for a religious rule, de 
manded this quality of local eloquence (for that, in 
general, it is not required, I have fully shewn above) ; 
let this, I say, be supposed, yet still it would not affect 
the case in hand, since it would be altogether unsuitable 
to the peculiar genius of the GOSPEL. It might easily 
be known to have been the purpose of Providence 
(though such purpose had not been expressly declared), 
that the Gospel should bear all the substantial marks 
of its divine Original; as well in the circumstances of 
its promulgation, as in the course of its progress. To 
this end, the appointed Ministers of its conveyance 1 
were persons, mean and illiterate, and chosen from 
amongst the lowest of the people ; that when Sceptics 
and Unbelievers saw the world converted by the fool 
ishness of preaching, as the learned Apostle, in great 
humility, thinks fit to call it, they might have no pretence 
to ascribe the success, to the parts, the station, or the 
authority of the Preachers. Now had the language, 
infused into these illiterate men, been the sublime of 
Plato, or the eloquence of Tully, Providence would 
have appeared to counteract its own measures, and 
defeat the purpose best calculated to advance its glory. 
But God is zvise, though mans a fool. And the course 
of his Wisdom was here, as every where else, uniform 
and constant. It not only chose the weakest Ministers 
of his Will, but kept out of their hands that powerful 
weapon of contorted words, which their adversaries 
might so easily have wrested to the dishonour of the 
Gospel. So much was Dr. Middleton mistaken, when 

besides 



Chap. IX.] OF GRACE. 297 

besides clearness (which he might be allowed to expect) 
lie supposes purity, nobleness, and pathetic affection, 
to be qualities inseparable from an inspired writing. 
St. Paul, who, amongst these simple instruments, was, 
for the same wise purposes, made an exception to the 
general choice, yet industriously prosecuted that sub 
lime view, for the sake of which the choice was made ; 
by rejecting all other weapons but those of the Spirit, 
to spread abroad the Conquests of the Son of God. 
My speech (says he) and my preaching teas not with 
hit icing words of man 8 wisdom, but in the demonstra 
tion of the Spirit and of Power. As much as to say, 
" My success was not owing to the sophistical elo 
quence of Rhetoricians, but to the supernatural powers, 
with which I was endowed, of interpreting Prophecies 
and working Miracles. " lie subjoins the reason of 
his use of these- means that their faith should not 
f<t and in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God \ 
i. e. Be convened not by force of Philosophy and 
Eloquence, but of the supernatural gifts of the Spirit : 
Therefore (saitli he again) God hath chosen the foolish 
things of the JVorld to confound the wise ; and the. 
weak things of the H r orld to confound the mighty *. 
And lest it should be said, that this was an affectation 
of despising advantages which they themselves could 
not reach, it pleased Providence that this declaration 
should be made, not by one of the more sordid and 
idiotic of the number: but by Him, to whom i 
nature and discipline had given powers to equal even 
the heights of (freek and Roman elocution. For v,e 
see, by what now and then accidentally flames out in 
the fervor of his reasoning, that he had a strong and 
clear discernment, a quick and lively imagi&atioQ, \\\\A 
an extensive and intimate acquaintance with those 
* 1 Cor. ii. 4. 

Masters 



298 THE DOCTRINE [Book I. 

Masters in moral painting, the Greek Sophists and 
Philosophers : all which he proudly sacrificed to the 
glory of the everlasting Gospel. Nor does he appear 
to have been conscious of any inconsistency between 
an inspired language and its local barbarity of style : 
for, having had occasion, in this very Epistle, to remind 
the Corinthians of the abundance of spiritual grace 
bestowed upon him, he says, / thank my God, I speak 
with tongues more than ycu all* \ and yet he tells 
them that he is rude in speech f. Which apparent 
inconsistency the reader may accept, if he pleases, for 
a further proof of the truth of what has been above 
delivered, concerning the natural condition of an in 
spired language. 

Thus we see, how unsuitable this quality of local 
eloquence would be to the peculiar genius of the 
Gospel. Yet as there is, in the Old Testament, much 
of this ornament of style, and more imagined, it may 
not be improper to explain the reason of this diversity, 
and shew how consistent the use of it is, in those 
places, with the principles already laid down. 

1. First, then, we may observe that Judaism was 
not an universal religion, but instituted for the use of 
a single people ; so that none of the inconveniencies 
mentioned above of a local eloquence could arise from 
the use of it in that religion. 

2. The Jewish religion had a public part % ; and 
consequently abounded in such Rites and Ceremonies, 
to which an ornamented style was well adapted. 

3. The subjects of several of the Books of the Old 
Testament are in their nature poetical, several rhetori 
cal, and so seem to have demanded a Style suitable to 
their genius. 

* i Cor. xiv. 18. f 2 Cor. xi. 6. 

J See Div. Leg. Book v. 



Chap. X.] OF GRACE. 299 



CHAP. X. 



AND now enough hath been said to make a just 
-estimate of the value of those objections which two 
celebrated writers * have inforced, with all their art 
and address, against the inspiration of the New Testa 
ment, from its local barbarity of style. Dr. Middleton fl 
objection hath been considered already. I shall chuse 
to close this first part of my discourse with an exami 
nation of that still more ingenious objection of the noble 
Author of the CHARACTERISTICS; who hath employed 
all the powers of his wit and eloquence to expose the 
want of these qualities in the sacred Volumes. 

"It is NO OTHERWISE (says his Lordship) 

" in the grammatical art of Characters and PAINTED 
" SPEECH, than in the art of painting itself. I have 
" seen, in certain Christian Churches, an ancient piece 
" or two, affirmed, on the solemn faith of priestly 
" tradition, to have been angelically and divinely 
" wrought by a supernatural hand and sacred pencil. 
" Had the piece happened to be of a hand like 
" Raphael s, I could have found nothing certain to 
" oppose to the tradition. But having observed the 
" whole STYLE and manner of the pretended heavenly 
" workmanship, to be so indifferent as to vary, in 
" many particulars, from the truth of art, I pre- 
" sumed, within myself, to beg pardon of the tradition, 
" and assert, confidently^ that // the pencil had been 
" heaven-guided it cuuld never have bcoi so lame hi 
" it s performance : it being a mere contradiction to 
" all divine and moral truth, that & celestial hand) sub- 

* Dr. MJddlttoii and Lord Sliuftesbury. 

" mitting 



300 THE DOCTRINE [Book I. 

" mitting itself to the rudiments of a human art, 
il should sin against the art itself, and express false- 
4< hood and error instead of justness and proportion *." 

This tale of St. Lukes painting, like the story of 
the DELPHIC ORACLES, needs no application. Every 
one sees that it is given to discredit the inspiration of 
holy Scripture. But as confidently as his Lordship 
says, he draws his conclusions from it, he gives them 
no other support than this mistaken conceit, which lie 
erects into an axiom : That it /.? no otherwise in the 
grammatical art of characters and painted speech, than 
in the art of painting itself: or, in other words, that 
the painted speech of Characters which represent 
ideas, and the painted images of things, are perform 
ances of the same kind. Now, in examining their 
natures by the principles of human speech, before laid 
down and explained, it appears that they are of very 
different kinds, having nothing in common but the office 
of giving information, truly and clearly , one of them 
by representing the images of corporeal things ; the 
other by representing the incorporeal ideas of the 
speaker s or writer s mind. And what tiling is there, 
in art or nature, which docs not hold something in 
common with another? But the difference between 
these is indeed no less than between things NATURAL 
and tilings POSITIVE, between constitutional and arbi 
trary; painting being IMITATION, and WORDS only 
SYMBOLS. The subject of \\\Q first, constant, unva- 
riable, necessary ; as having its archetype in nature : 
the other unstable, shifting, and capricious, as depend 
ing for its existence on the human will, under the 
direction of fancy and caprice. In PAINTING there is, 
properly speaking, but one true style, and that is an exact 
imitation of nature. In- SPEECH there are as many 

* Charact, viii. p. 230, 

true 



Chap. X.] OF GRACE. 301 

true styles as there are tempers and humours, customs 
and fashions, amongst men. Eloquence, or truth <f 
style, in speaking or writing, being nothing else but 
the adapting- the terms of human speech to the various 
conceptions, fancies, and affections of the hearers ; so 
that, as in painting there is but one true style, and that 
REAL, because an imitation of nature; in speech there 
are many true styles, Init all FANTASTIC, because ail 
are the creatures of arbitrary fashion. 



The noble Author himself seemed to suspect that 
these two things had but a slender connexion in nature, 
and therefore endeavoured to strengthen the tie by art. 
Hence his figurative expressions of FAINTED SPEECH,, 
for writing, in order to clap up a forced alliance 
between writing and painting ; and, on the contrary, 
STYLE, for manner of painting; to bring painting and 
writing related. A favourable Critic may possibly say, 
that the noble Writer had no other purpose, in the use 
of these elegant figures, than to ornament his language. 
Perhaps not. It is then only a remarkable example of 
the truth of an observation made above : " that the 
principal end of eloquence, as it is employed in human 
affairs, is to mislead reason, and to cajole the fancy 
and affections." 

On the whole then, all the conclusion we can reason 
ably draw from this noble Author s remarks on HKA- 
VKNLY WORKMANSHIP in painting and in speech, is- 
only this, that if an inspired Painter were to give us 
a Picture, it would indeed equal or excel the pencil 
of Raphael ; because here was a real Archetype to- 
work by, that is to say, NATUUE: but, if we may 
credit Reason, whose dictates, I am sorry to say, arc 
not always those of his Lordship, an inspired Writer 
would receive no more assistance from Heaven in his 
expression, than what was necessary to give his speech 

the 



302 THE DOCTRINE OF GRACE. 

the essential qualities of all language, namely, CLEAR 
NESS and PRECISION ; because here was no real arche 
type to follow ; the various modes of eloquence being 
mostly fantastic, as existing only in capricious cus 
tom; and therefore unworthy the notice of a ^divine 
Inspirer. 

I have now gone through the first part of my Dis 
course ; which proposed to consider the Office and 
Operations of the Holy Spirit as THE GUIDE OF 
TRUTH, who clears and enlightens the Understanding. 
In this part, I have endeavoured to vindicate his first 
Descent and his inspiration of holy Scripture ; 1 have 
distinguished the mode of that inspiration ; I have 
explained the character of an inspired language; I 
have inquired into the nature of human eloquence, 
and have carefully examined the force of our free Rea- 
j on every one of these distinct heads. 



THE 



DOCTRINE OF GRACE; 



OR, 



THE OFFICE AND OPERATIONS OF THE 
HOLY SPIRIT. 



BOOK II. 



CHAP. I. 

I NOW proceed to the second branch of my Dis 
course, which is, to consider the Holy Spirit under the 
idea of THE COMFORTER, who purifies and supports 
tt^e Will. 

And here, his divine power manifested itself in the 
same miraculous Operations. Sacred Antiquity is very 
large and full in its accounts of the sudden and entire 
change made by the Holy Spirit, in the dispositions 
and manners of those whom it had enlightened ; instan 
taneously effacing all their evil habits, and familiarizing 
their practice to the performance of every virtuous and 
pious action. 

To this illustrious and triumphant conviction of the 
truth of Christianity, the very enemies arid persecutors 
of our holy Faith have been forced to bear witness : 
not only in the serious accounts which some * of them 
have given of the innocence and virtue of PRIMITIVE 

* Pliny the younger, Suetonius, Tacitus, Sec. 

CHRIS- 



304 THE DOCTRINE [Book I L 

CHRISTIANITY ; but even in the mockery and ridicule 
of others *, on the subject of the boasted virtue of 
water-baptism ; which was then commonly accom 
panied with, and sometimes preceded by, these extra 
ordinary effusions of grace from the Comforter. 
" Come here (say these unhappy Libertines) and see 
the amazing efficacy of Christian-baptism ! whoever is 
iinmerged in this water, though before, he were an 
adulterer, a practised thief or murderer, rises cleansed 
and purified from all his crimes ; and commences, on 
the instant, a life of temperance, of justice, and of 
charity." Thus did these impious scorners endeavour 
to disguise their chagrin at the triumphs of the Spirit 
over Vice and Paganism, by a sarcastic parody of the 
grateful exultations of the Christian Pastors. In truth, 
it was all they had to say; for, after this, they were 
reduced to seek a forced consolation in the possibility 
that some NATURAL CAUSE had produced so extra 
ordinary a phenomenon. 

It may be worth while, therefore, to inquire whether 
any such cause can be reasonably assigned. 

The enemies of our Faith hope to find it in FANA- 
TICIS:\I and SUPERSTITION, the two Passions which 
the strong impression of a new Religion begets, by its 
HOPES and FEARS, on the mind of man. 

Let us see, whether either, or both of these, will 
account for so sudden and lasting a conversion, from 
vice and corruption, to a life of sanctity and virtue. 

SUPERSTITION, which only depraves the Reason, 
without making any impression on those faculties of 
the mind that most incline the Will to a new bias, 
never effects any considerable change in the MANNERS. 
Its utmost force is but just enough to persuade us, 
that an exact attention to the officious ceremonies of 

* Celsus, Julian, &c. 

Religion 



Chap. I.] OP G R A C E. 305 

Religion will be of force to secure us from the evils 
denounced against vice and immorality ; or, at least, 
that some transient acts of penitence, as the approaches 
of Death alarm us, will be sufficient to entitle us to 
the reward of a pure and well-spent Life. 

FANATICISM, indeed, jshakes and agitates the mind 
with greater violence : and by instigating those facul 
ties which most influence the Will, frequently forces 
the Manners from their bent ; and sometimes effaces, 
or obscures, the strongest impressions of custom and 
nature. But this extraordinary fervour, though always 
violent, is rarely lasting : never so long as to turn the 
new System into a habit. So that when its rage sub 
sides, as it very soon does, but where it drives the 
unhappy victim into downright madness, the late im 
pressed bias on the Will keeps abating, till all the 
former habitudes recover their relaxed tc.it. 

This is confirmed, not only by the general History 
of past Fanaticism, but likewise of the present, where 
we commonly see the final issue of a sudden conver 
sion to be, either a return to an open profligacy of 
manners, or a deep hypocritical dissimulation of them. 

But now if we look into the history of those early 
Converts, we shall find that their Virtue, from the 
very first impression of it, had all the ease, sobriety, 
and moderation of a settled habit ; in this they perse 
vered ; and adding grace to grace, they went on, 
through life, in one constant tenor, from the first bap 
tismal profession of their Faith by water, to the last 
awful confirmation of it in their blood. A dreadful 
period! when Nature, by the very shock, and in the 
struggle, it then suffers, becomes enabled to dissipate 
all the fumes of mental, as it is frequently observed 
to do, of corporeal intoxication. This it did, in the 
famous case of the virtuous SA VAN A no LA of Florence ; 

VOL. VIIL X whose 



THE DOCTRINE [Book IT. 

whose story is so finely told by Guicciardini in the 
second and third hooks of his History. This Man, a 
genuine Fanatic, if ever there were any, had assumed 
the personage of a Prophet and inspired Preacher. 
A Character which he had long and successfully sus 
tained ; taken up amidst the distresses and distractions 
of his Country, and, without doubt, occasioned by 
them. But, losing his credit in the new Revolutions 
of Italy, and being brought by his enemies to the 
stake, he died, after having disavowed his pretensions, 
on the rack, he died, I say, sullen and silent, without 
any remaining symptom of his former Enthusiasm. 

Nor could this sudden conversion of the first Chris 
tians be the effect of MERE rational conviction. We 
know it to be morally impossible for Reason, however 
refined and strengthened by true Philosophy, to root 
out, on the instant, the inveterate habits of Vice. All 
that this magisterial Faculty can do is, by constantly 
repeating her dictates, and inforcing her conclusions, 
gradually to win over the Will; till, by little and 
little, the mind accustoms itself to another set of ideas, 
productive of other practices and other habits. A 
work of time and labour ! as those good men have 
sufficiently experienced, who, on a mere rational con 
viction, have attempted and perfected a change in 
their lives and manners. When therefore we see the 
deepest impressions of evil custom, and the darkest 
stains of corrupted nature, thus suddenly wiped out 
and effaced, to what must we ascribe so total a re 
form, but to the all-powerful operation of Grace ? 

But it may be objected, " That there are instances 
where Enthusiasm alone hath kept men steady in the 
practice of that virtue which a certain fanatic turn of 
mind first recommended." Doubtless there have been 
many good people, who, either through the weakness 

of 



Chap. II.] OF GRACE. 307 

of their reason, or the force of their more refined 
passions, have been hurried into fanatic fervours, 
which have supported and confirmed them in their 
previous innocence of manners. But even here we 
have sufficient marks to distinguish these better sorts 
of Enthusiasts, from such of the first Christian Con 
fessors, who were in the happy circumstance of being 
found innocent, when they were led into the prac 
tice of all virtue by the Holy Spirit : whose office, 
as we have said, consisted in this gracious combina 
tion, to enlighten the understanding, and to rectify 
the will. Now, that genial splendour which con 
ducted the first Christians into the knowledge of all 
truth, sufficiently disclosed the divine Inspirer of all 
righteousness. But we see none of that shining light 
ordained and employed to gild the good works of 
Grace, in the morals of innocent Enthusiasts. On 
the contrary, we often find a more than ordinary igno 
rance ; and sometimes, even an incapacity of making 
rational conclusions. 

Thus was the first part of the promise to send the 
COMFORTER, fulfilled. 



CHAP. II. 

THE other part, that HE SHOULD ABIDE WITH 
us FOR EVER, comes next to be considered. We, 
have observed how this likewise hath been verified 
by the sure deposit of the Spirit of Truth in sacred 
Scripture. Yet this is not the whole of the comple 
tion. His present influence, together with the fruits 
of the past, make the entire subject of the promise. 
Hence we conclude, that he abides with the Church 

x ^ for 



308 THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

for ever, as well PERSONALLY in his office of Com 
forter^ in supporting the Will, as VIRTUALLY in his 
office of Enlightener 9 in directing the Understanding. 

The only question will be, whether, from the pri 
mitive ages down to these latter times, he hath coa- 
tinued to exercise either part of his office in the same 
extraordinary manner in which he entered upon it, 
when his descent on the Apostles was accompanied 
with all the sensible marks of the Divinity. 

And this, as it tends to the decision of more than 
one important question (not only the superstitious 
claim of CHURCH MIRACLES, but the fanatic pretences 
to DIVINE INFLUENCES) should be considered more 
at large. 

But here, I shall venture to invert the method of 
those Divines, who, in their inquiries concerning God s 
Dispensations, endeavour to prove those supposed 
facts, which they have preconceived, from the Jitness 
which they pretend to have discovered ; that is, having 
determined of what is Jit for God to do ; they, on the 
credit of this, maintain that he hath done it. On the 
contrary, I deem it more rational, as well as modest, 
first to inquire of Scripture, what God hath done: 
and, when that is known, it will be then time enough 
to explain tliejitness of his doings. 

Let us see now, what holy Scripture hath delivered 
concerning the DURATION of the extraordinary en 
dowments of the Holy Spirit : Which, whether they 
rested in the Recipient, and manifested themselves in 
Grace and Knowledge transcending the powers of hu 
manity ; or whether they extended outwards, in the 
gifts of healing, to the relief of others infirmities, 
may, with equal propriety, be called and be accounted 
MIRACULOUS. In the one case, the gifted person 
was passive ; in the other, active* 

Now 



Chap. IL] OF GRACE. 309 

Now the Holy Spirit, by the mouth of Paul, has, 
I presume, determined this question for us, where, in 
the passage quoted before, on another occasion, he 
recapitulates the various prerogatives of the Apostolic 
age. This decisive passage is in these words Charity 
never faileth: but vhJher there be PROPHECIES, 
they shall fail , whether there be TONGUES, they shall 
cease-, whether there be KNOWLEDGE, it shall vanish 
away *. 

It was the Apostle s purpose, in this place, to exalt 
CHARITY above all other Christian Graces; and 
therefore, having, in the preceding words, shewn its 
superiority to the rest, from its QUALITIES and attri 
butes ; he proceeds to urge the advantage still further, 
from the consideration of its DURABILITY Charity 
never faileth, 8$c. 

The question is, Whether the superior duration, 
here ascribed to Charity over Prophecies, Tongues, 
and Knowledge, respects only the progress of the 
Gospel HERE; or whether it extends to the comple 
tion of it in its triumphant state, HEREAFTER? The 
common opinion is, that it respects another life; 
supported, as should seem, by the Apostle s inforcing 
his argument on this observation, that now we see 
through a glass darkly ; but then face to face: now 
we know in part ; but then shall we know, even as 
we are known f ; where the different condition of the 
two states are plainly set in opposition to one another. 

But the other sense appears to me to be the true; 
and gives us the Apostle s meaning to this effect: 
" The virtue of Charity is to accompany the Chris 
tian Church throughout all its stages here on earth ; 
whereas the gifts of prophecy, of strange tongues, of 
supernatural knowledge, are only transitory graces, be- 

* i Cor. xiii. 8. t Ver. 12. 

x 3 stowed 



310 THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

stowed upon the Church during its infirm and infant 
state, to manifest its divine birth, and to support it 
against the delusions and the Powers of darkness. * 

As the words, considered in this sense, convey a 
most important Doctrine, viz. the cessation of the, mi 
raculous operations of the Holy Spirit after the esta 
blishment of the, Christian faith, and as this perhaps 
is the only express declaration of it, recorded in sacred 
Scripture ; I shall endeavour to support my interpreta 
tion by considerations drawn from its coherence, in 
this sense, and in this sense only, with what precedes 
and follows in the course of the Apostle s argument. 

The Church of Corinth, though abundantly enriched 
with all divine Graces, would not yet suffer the Holy 
Ghost to do his perfect work, in the enlargement of 
the heart by universal benevolence : but, elated with 
SPIRITUAL PRIDE (whose property is not to bear 
with those who differ from us, and to despise those 
who are beneath us in sublime attainments), split and 
divided themselves into opposite Sects and Factions : 
And this unhappy situation not only rendering all 
their endowments vain and fruitless, but reflecting 
dishonour on the Giver of all good things, the Apostle 
addresses himself to expose their folly with the utmost 
of his force and vigour of reasoning. 

He proves the superior excellence of Charity above 
all other spiritual graces whatsoever, both in its 
QUALITIES and its DURATION. The first three 
verses * of his argument declare that the other graces 
without Charity, are neither of use nor ornament in 
the Christian life : The next four f specify the supe 
rior qualities of Charity : arid the remaining six \ (of 
which, the words in question make the jirst ), con- 

* i Cor. xiii. i, 2, 3. f Ver. 4, 5, 6, 7. 

| Ver, 8, 9, ip, 11, 12, 13. Ver. 8. 

sider 



Chap. II.] OF GRACE. 311 

sider Charity under the single advantage of its con 
tinuance, when all those other graces, with which they 
were so foolishly elated, should be withdrawn. Charity 
never faileth : but whether there be Prophecies, they 
shall foil ; whether there be Tongues, they shall cea-se ; 
whether there be Knowledge, it shall vanish away. 
In the next two verses * he gives the reason, For we 
know in part, and we prophesy in part : but when that 
which is perfect is come, then that which is in part 
shall be done away. As much as to say : When that 
CHRISTIAN LIFE, the lines of which are marked out 
by the Gospel, shall, by the vital powers of CHARITY 
on which it is erected, arrive to its full vigour and 
maturity, then those temporary aids of the Holy 
Spirit (such as Tongues, Prophecy, and Knowledge, 
bestowed with a purpose to subdue the prejudices 
and scepticism of those without, and to support the 
weakness and infirmities of those within ; and given 
too, but imperfectly, in proportion to the defects of 
the human Recipients) shall, like the scaffolding of a 
Palace now completed, be taken down and removed. 
And to shew, that the loss of these things will be no 
longer regretted, when the Church hath advanced 
from a state of Infancy to Manhood, in the steady 
exercise of the CHRISTIAN LIFE OF CHARITY, he 
illustrates tais truth by an elegant similitude When 
I was a Child, I spake as a Child, I understood as a 
Child: but when I became a Man, I put away Childish 
things f. Yet no one will be so absurd to suppose 
that it was the Apostle s intention to disgrace these 
spiritual Gifts by so low a comparison. It was the 
ABUSE of them only (to which these Corinthians were 
so prone) that was designed to be corrected by it. 
But the Apostle, having represented these extraor- 



* Ver. 9, 10. f Ver. 1J 

x 4 dinary 



312 THE DOCTRINE [Book II, 

dinary gifts to be as defective in themselves as they 
are contemptible in their abuse, thought fit to add, 
that this defect did not proceed from any penurious 
influx of the Holy Spirit, but from the narrowness of 
the human recipient; the passages to the Soul being 
so clogged up with corporeal obstructions, as to be 
unable to convey to the Sensory any more than an 
oblique glimpse of the SOVEREIGN GOOD : But that, 
when we have shaken off this mortal incumbrance, 
and regained the regions of light and liberty, we shall 
then intuitively comprehend the whole economy both 
of NATURE and of GRACE. For now (says he) we 
see through a glass darkly *, but then face to face : 
Now I know in part, even as also I am known. And 
this observation, which evidently respects a future 
state, led men to understand the Apostle as taking in 
another life, on which to found that superior duration 



y ya apli & lffo<iflpa tv aitiy petit the seeing through, or 
in a glass, by (in Enigma, seems, at first view, an odd and incon 
gruous expression, since information by a speculum, of what kind 
soever, conveys the natural or real image of the reflected object, 
though that image be seen only faintly and obscurely. But an 
Enigma is not the natural image of the object conveyed, but an 
arbitrary mark, which, under very foreign ideas, is mysteriously 
made to stand for the natural image. Yet, if we attend carefully 
to the subject, we shall find the expression to be very elegant. 
The Apostle is comparing the knowledge of spiritual things, 
gained here, with that knowledge which we shall gain hereafter. 
Now all our present knowledge being conveyed through the Organs 
of Sense, the Apostle, by his lv My petit, would insinuate, that 
our most correct and sublime ideas of spiritual things are no more 
the real images of spiritual things, than Enigmas, or mysteriously 
contrived marks, are the natural or real images of those things to 
which they are put as Signs. A glass, or speculum, is therefore 
used by the Apostle, in this place, to signify the corporeal organs-, 
and an Enigma, to signify the representative knowledge, which the 
corporeal organs are only capable of producing, when employed 
about spiritual things. 

which 



Chap. II.] OF GRACE. 313 

which he gives to Charity, the subject of his general 
argument. But they seem to have mistaken the drift 
of his remark concerning the defects in human know 
ledge, which was not made (as they suppose) for a 
direct inforcement of the argument in the eighth verse, 
Charity never faileth, fyc. but was an occasional 
answer to an objection, which naturally arose from his 
management of one of the topics in the eleventh, When 
I was a child, &fc. For it might have been objected 
to the Apostle, " By this similitude, you seem to re 
present the Gospel as first springing up in an infant 
state, and needing time and culture to bring it to per 
fection." c No (replies the Apostle) ; this last Law 
of God, like the first created Man, came perfect from 
the hands of its Almighty Framer. But man, to whom 
it was given, by reason of the imperfections of his 
present state, arrived only by degrees to the more 
perfect knowledge and practice of it : and to this 
gradual advance, from obscure to intuitive science, 
does the similitude refer." This, I say, seems to 
have been the source of the error: and yet the Apostle s 
concluding observation was sufficient to have set these 
critics right, and to have shewn them, that the superior 
duration of Charity referred to the present life only. 
And NOW abideth FAITH, HOPE, and CHARITY, 
these three ; but the greatest of these is Charity. 
Which is in effect to say, " You may now perhaps 
object, that this quality of superior duration is not 
peculiar or confined to Charity, but belongs equally 
to those two other Christian graces, Faith and Hope, 
which travel through with the Church of God, and 
continue to support and adorn it, in all its revolutions 
here on earth, when Prophecy, Tongues, and Know 
ledge, shall long have Jailed and ceased, and vanished 
away : So that, with regard to DURATION, Faith and 

Hope 



314 THE DOCTRINE [Book IL 

Hope share with Charity, in this advantage, over the 
other transient endowments of the Spirit. " I agree 
(replies the Apostle) thus far to the Objection, that 
they are all three joint sharers in this prerogative ; but 
still, I say, THE GREATEST OF THESE is CHARITY: 
And in the beginning of my argument (says he) I have 
given the reason, in the observation, that Though I 
have all FAITH so that I could remove mountains, and 
though I give my body to be burned [in sure and cer 
tain HOPE of a resurrection] and have not Charity, it 
projiteth me nothing. The reason is on account of 
the superior qualities of Charity: it hath those which 
Faith and Hope have not, she seeketh not her own, 
< c. as well as those which Faith and Hope have, and 
are most essential to them, for she BELIEVETH all 
things, she HOPETH all things" It is thus the Apostle 
answers concealed objections ; and at the same time 
instructs the unwary reader, with what caution and 
application he should come to the study of that pro 
found reasoning with which all his Epistles abound. 

But now, suppose the superior duration of Charity 
to take in the consideration of another life, and the 
Apostle never could have said, that Faith and Hope 
had the prerogative of remaining, or of having an 
equal abiding with Charity, wJien both faith and hope 
will be swallowed up in fruition *. 

From 

* The late Bishop of London, Dr. Sherlock, in his first volume 
of Sermons, contends for the common interpretation of this 
passage ; and, to remove the difficulty of faith and hope s being 
said to abide with Charity in a future state, argues thus " Charity 
" and universal benevolence is the very grace and ornament of 
" Heaven. Nor can faith and hope ever be parted from TRUE 
" RELIGION ; for there is no Being so great as nut to depend on 
" faith in God, in his power and wisdom, or to be above hoping 
" any thing from his goodness and benevolence," p. 377. Here 
St, Paul is speaking of one thing, and the Bishop, as usual, of 

another, 



Chap. II.] OF GRACE. 315 

From the whole, then, of this account of Charity, 
it evidently appears, that THE MIRACULOUS POWERS 

OF THE CHURCH WERE TO CEASE ON ITS PERFECT 

ESTABLISHMENT; as well those which relieved cor 
poreal, as those which administered aid to spiritual, 
distresses : and consequently, that SUPERSTITION and 
FANATICISM equally laboured under the wound in 
flicted on them by the hand of the Apostle, when he 
made this virtual Declaration of the total withdrawing 
of those Powers. 

Here especially, all the superstitious and fanatical 
pretences of the Church of Rome, to supernatural 
powers, are detected and exposed ; not only the gift 
of INFALLIBILITY, which comprehends all Mysteries 
and ail Knowledge ; and the work of TRANSUBSTAN- 
TIATION, which comprehends all Faith, not to remove, 
but to make, mountains ; but likewise all the LEGEN 
DARY MIRACLES of their Hierarchy in general, and of 
their canonized Saints in particular. In which pre 
tences, to observe it by the way, the blunder seems to 
be as glaring as the imposture : St. Paul reckons the 
STATE OF CHRISTIAN PERFECTION not to be the 
STATE OF MIRACLES, but that of CHARITY, For 
we know in part (says he) and we prophesy in part : 
but when THAT WHICH is PERFECT is come, then that 
which is in part shall be done away *. "What is that 

perfect 

another. The Apostle s faith and hope are CHRISTIAN" GRACES; 
that is, Faith in the Messiah the Redeemer, and Hope in the 
Resurrection of the dead y both of which hereafter will be, as is said 
above, swallowed up in fruition. The Preacher, in order to sup 
port a point, puts the change upon us, and, for the Apostle s faith 
and hope, gives us his own : a faith and hope at large, and in the 
air : such as will abide indeed, while we have any being, but such 
as, on the same principles of interpretation, will give abidance to 
Knowledge likewise, although the sacred Writer expressly tellg us, 
it is to vanish away. 

* i Cor. xiii. 9, 10. 



316 THE DOCTRINE [Book 1 1. 

perfect tiAngwhich was to come; and which the Corin 
thians of tliis time so much wanted? What but that 
which he had so highly extolled, the State of CHA 
RITY ? So that as this advanced, the imperfect state 
of MIRACLES was to recede, and be done away. Yet 
in the Church of Rome, the state of SAINTSHIP, 
which is their state of perfection, is supported by 
miracles ; whilst St. Paul s state of perfection, that 
of CHARITY, was so little acknowledged or under 
stood, that one of their greatest Saints, and most 
abounding in miraculous endowments, was St. Dominic, 
the founder of the INQUISITION-. Indeed, if the 
Apostle s reasoning would bear this inference, that 
Miracles were not only to remain till Charity had 
done its perfect work, but till it had perfectly done its 
work, I know of no Church that has a better claim to 
the continued exercise of those Powers than the 
CHURCH OF ROME. But whatsoever need she may 
have, she fails so wretchedly in her most pompous 
exhibitions of them, that we may well regard ROMISH 
MIRACLES in the lowest rank of those childish things, 
which, the Apostle says, men and churches should be 
ashamed of, and put away, when they come to years 
of discretion. 



CHAP. III. 

HAVING now established the FACT, that mira 
culous gifts were to pass away with the first ages of 
the Church, we may safely and reasonably inquire into 

the FITNESS OF THE THING. 

There appears to have been two causes of the extra 
ordinary operations of the Holy Spirit : The manifes 
tation 



Chap. III.] OF GRACE. 317 

tation of his Mission as it was predicted, and the 
comfort and instruction of a suffering Church, us it 
\vas promised. 

To the first, we have observed, that in the early 
propagation of our holy Faith, it was fit the SANC- 
TIFIER, as well as the REDEEMER, should support 
his presence by Miracles. But the same considerations 
which shew thiiTjifness to be no more, in the one 
case, shew it likewise in the other. For the DIVINE 
ORIGINAL of our Faith being once established, it sup 
ports itself ever after on the same credibility of human 
testimony, which all other truths do, that are founded 
on facts. 

i. As to his extraordinary operations for the comfort 
and instruction. of the Church, we may observe that, 
on his first descent upon the Apostles, he found their 
minds rude and uninformed ; strangers to all celestial 
knowledge ; prejudiced in favour of a carnal Law, and 
utterly averse to the genius of the everlasting Gcspel. 
The minds of these he illuminated ; and, by degrees, 
led into all the truths necessary for the Professors of 
the Faith to know, or for the Propagators of it to teach. 
For a rule of Faith not being yet composed, some ex 
traordinary infusion of his Virtue was still necessary, 
both to regulate the Faith of him who received it, and 
to constitute the Authority of him who was to com 
municate, of what he had received, to others. But 
when now the Rule of faith was perfected in an 
authentic collection of the Apostolic Writings, part of 
this office was transferred upon the Sacred Canon * ; 
and his enlightened grace was not to be expected in so 
abundant an eftusion as would make the Recipients 
infallible Guides to others, but only in a measure ade 
quate to the direction of themselves. 

* See pp. 271, 272. 

These 



3 i8 THE DOCTRINE [Book It 

These reasons for the change of economy, in the 
dispensations of the Holy Spirit, are sufficient to dis 
credit the false confidence of modern FANATIC , who 
pretend to as high a degree of divine communications 
as if no such Rule of Faith was in being; or at least, 
as if that Rule was so obscure as to need the further 
assistance of the Holy Spirit to explain his own mean 
ing ; or so imperfect as to need a new inspiration to 
supply its wants. But these men read the History of 
the dispensations to the first Propagators of our holy 
Faith : they look with admiration on the privileges and 
powers conferred on those chosen Instruments : their 
imagination grows heated : they forget the difference 
between the present and the past economy of things : 
they seem to feel the impressions they hear of; and 
they assume the airs, and mimic the Authority of 
Prophets and Apostles. 

i . Again, the nature and genius of the Gospel were 
so averse to all the religious institutions of the World, 
that the whole strength of human prejudices was set in 
opposition to it. To overcome the obstinacy and 
violence of these prejudices, nothing less than the 
power of the Holy One was sufficient. HE did the 
work of Man s Conversion ; and reconciled an unbe 
lieving Ttorld to God. At present, whatever there may 
be remaining of the bias of prejudice (as such will 
mix itself even with our best conclusions), it draws the 
other way. So much then of his task was finished ; 
and the Faith, from thenceforth, had a favourable hear 
ing. Indeed, were we to make our estimate of the 
present State of the religious World from the Journals 
of modern Fanatics, we should be tempted still to 
think ourselves in a land of Pagans, with all their 
prejudices full blown upon them. For the account 
they giye us of their provincial Missions always runs 

on 



Chap. III.] OF GRACE. 319 

on in such strains as these The name cf Jesus is 
preached up in this City; the glad tidings of the 
Gospel conveyed to that Hamlet; a new light tprhigs 
up in a land of darkness ; and life and immortality is 
now first offered to those who sit in the shadow of 
death. 

3. A further reason for the abatement of the influ 
ences of the supporting spirit of Grace is the jjeace 
and security of the CHURCH. There was a time when 
the Powers of this world were combined together for 
its destruction. At such a period, nothing but superior 
^id from Above could support humanity in sustaining 
so great a conflict as that which the holy Martyrs en 
countered with joy and rapture ; the horrors of death 
in torment. But now the profession of the Christian 
Faith is attended with ease and honour ; and the con 
viction, which the weight of human testimony, and the 
conclusions of human reason afford us, of its truth, is 
abundantly sufficient to support us in our religious 
perseverance. , 

But the obstinate and continued claims of FANATICS 
in all Ages, to this primitive abundance of the Spirit, 
may make it expedient to examine their pretensions 
yet more minutely and exactly. And to this inquiry, 
Scripture itself, which foresaw and foretold the evil, 
directs us to the remedy, \\here it exhorts us to TRY 
THE SPIRITS. Beloved, believe not every spirit (says 
St. John), but try the Spirits uhethtr they be of God: 
because many false Prophets are gone oat into the 
World*. At the time tnis precept was given, there 
was a more than ordinary attention requisite to guard 
against the delusions of false Prophets : For, the abun 
dant effusion of the Holy Spirit on the rising Religion 
gave encouragement to Impostors to counterfeit, and 

* i John iv, i, 

a handle 



320 THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

a handle to Enthusiasts to mimic, all that was equi 
vocal in its operations. 

Hence we find that, amongst the various endow 
ments of the primitive Church, some of which were to 
correct Gainsayers, and others to edify Believers, there 
was one of the mixed kind, of special use to support 
the dignity, and to vindicate the divine original of all 
the rest ; by detecting Impostors, who crept in amongst 
the truly inspired : and this, we have seen, the Apostle 
called, the DISCERNING OF SPIRITS. With this 
Gift, Peter detected Simon the Magician; and with 
this, Paul confounded Ely mas the Sorcerer. 

But when extraordinary inspiration itself had ceased, 
the false pretence to it, for some wise ends of Pro 
vidence, to us unknown, still continued to infect the 
Church with its impious Mummeries ; and while that 
Virtue (the discerning of spirits), whose office was to 
detect them, was withdrawn with the rest of the in 
spired graces, the Command to try the spirits whether 
they were of God, still remained in force. But to try 
without a faculty of discerning, would be a dangerous, 
or at best, an impertinent employment. 

Now from this unreasonable task we are delivered 
by the gracious providence of the Holy Spirit ; who 
provided that those whom he had endowed with the 
gift of discerning of Spirits should leave behind them 
some Rules whereby the Faithful of all ages might be 
Qualified to try the spirits, and be thereby enabled to 
defend themselves from the seduction of error and 
imposture : because, says the advice, many false Pro 
phets are gone out into the World. 

If the false Prophet pretend to a character foretold, 
then we are bid to search the Scriptures *, to see if 
they testify of such a Character. Thus the Bereans 

* John v. 39. Search the Scriptures, for they testify of me. 

are 



Chap. III.] OF GRACE. 321 

are esteemed of more noble and generous sentiments 
than their Neighbours, for this very point of wisdom, 
the searching the Scriptures daily to find whether those 
things were so *. 

But if the false Prophet pretend only to some ex 
traordinary measure of the Spirit, then we are directed 
to try that Spirit by applying to it the following Cha 
racters of real inspiration THE WISDOM THAT is 

FROM ABOVE IS FIRST PURE; THEN PEACEABLE, 
GENTLE, AND EASY TO BE fVTREATED, FULL OF 
MERCY AND GOOD FRUITS, WITHOUT PARTIALITY, 
AND WITHOUT HYPOCRISY f. 

It is worthy our notice, that, in this rule or direction 
for the trial of spirits, the marks of real inspiration 
are to be applied only NEGATIVELY : that is, we may 
safely pronounce, that the man in whom they are not 
found, hath riot the Spirit of God, or the wisdom which 
is from above: while on the other hand, we are not 
to conclude, that he in whom any or all of them are 
found, is, from this circumstance alone, endowed with 
any extraordinary measure of the Holy Spirit ; since 
they may be no other than those ordinary graces which 
arise from the knowledge of, and obedience to, God s 
Will as contained in sacred Scripture. So that although 
such a one may be truly said to be possessed oi the 
wisdom which is from above, it is not that which comes 
to him by way of inspiration, the thing he>-e in question. 

Thus we see, the Apostle s Rule carries, in its very 
nature, the evidence of its divine original : for the 
assistance wanted in the trial of spirits, since these 
extraordinary powers were withdrawn, was only such 
a set of Marks as was rather fitted to detect Impostors, 
than to assure the truth of a Character not now to bs 
expected. 

Acts xvii. is, t Jamei iii, 17. 

VOL. VIII. Y This 



322 THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

This the Reader should have in mind, when we 
bring him to apply these marks to the features of 
modern Fanaticism ; especially as they are seen in the 
famed Leader of the METHODISTS, Mr. JOHN WES 
LEY ; and not seen neither, as Sancho Pancho saw 
his mistress, by hearsay (which indeed has been too 
much the custom, in the representations of this trans 
cendent man), but as he appears in person in his own 
JOURNALS : for by those indelible marks alone, there 
traced out, and by his own pen, I propose to TRY, in 
him, chiefly, THE SPIRITS of all modern Pretender? 
to supernatural Powers. 



CHAP. IV. 

AND that I may not be suspected of combating a 
Phantom, it will be proper first of all to shew that this 
extraordinary man hath, in fact, laid claim to almost 
very Apostolic gift and grace ; and in as full and 
ample a measure as they were possessed of old. 

But as a good Actor will first prepare his Scene, he 
hath carried us back, by the magic of his dramatic 
powers, into all the wonders of the primitive Times ; 
where we meet the Devil unchained and let loose, to 
exert his last efforts against the new Religion : As, on 
the other hand, to oppose to his infernal rage, we see, 
with the same evidence, an abundant effusion of the 
Holy Spirit poured out upon this rising Church. And 
now, every thing being well prepared, Both these 
Powers stand ready to act their parts, by the time our 
Apostle thinks fit to appear upon the Stage. 

His JOURNALS are full of the Alarms which he gave 
the Devil, and of the mortifications which the Devil 

gave 



Chap. IV.] OF GRACE. 323 

gave him. " The Devil (says he) knew his kingdom 
" shook, and therefore stirred up his servants to ring 
" bells, and make all the noise they could*." " The 
" Devil s Children fought valiantly for their Master, 
" that his kingdom should not be destroyed : And 
" many stones iell on my right hand and on my leftf." 
" Some or other of the Children of Belial had laboured 
"to disturb us several nights before J." ^ay, so 
accustomed was he to these conflicts with the Evil 
One, that U was even matter of surprise to him, to find 
the Enemy, once upon a time, reserved and still; till 
he reflected, that it was because his Goods were in 
peace. fl I preached as yet I have found only one 
" person amongst them, who knew the love of God, 
<J before my Brother came. No wonder the Devil 
" was so still : for his Goods were in peace . Another 
instance which he gives us, of this p.vi.teable convention 
between his Congregation and the Devil, is in one of 
his northern excursions. <c Wed. -29. I preached at 
" Durham to a QUIET, STUPID Congregation ||." But 
this never lasted long wherever he came ; for he had 
always the skill of curing the spiritual lethargy by a 
frenzy. 

When the Devil had set the mob on work, he then, 
like other Politicians, retired to better company ; such 
as the two Mr. Wesley s and the Saints. But, as this 
sad and solemn meeting was not to his taste, he tried 
to buffet them into a better humour. " I was a 
" little surprised at some who were bujjetted of 
" Satan in an unusual manner by such a spirit of 
" laughter I knew the same thing ten or eleven 

Journal from i, Nov. 1739, to Sept. 3, 1741, p. 37. 
t Ibid. p. 82. | Ibid. p. 31. 

$ Journ from Nov. 25, 1746, to July 20, 1750, p. 29. 
|| Journ. from July 20, 1750, to Oct. 28, 1754, p. 16. 

y 2 " years 



324 THE DOCTRINE [BookIL 

" years- ago. Part of Sunday my Brother and I then 
" used to spend in walking in the meadows and 
" singing Psalms. But one day, just as we were be- 
c< ginning to sing, he burst out into a loud laughter. 

I began to be very angry, and presently after to 
" laugh as loud as he. We were ready to tear our- 
" selves in pieces, but were forced to go home with- 
" out singing another line *." From the Head, these 
buffettings (which, not to overload the Devil, I will, 
for once, venture to call hysterical) descended, and 
were plentifully bestowed, upon the Members. And, 

6 one evening (says he) such a spirit of laughter was 
" amongst us, that many were much offended. But 
" the attention of all was soon fixed upon poor 

* L a S ; one so violently and variously torn 

" of the EVIL ONE did I never see before. Some- 
<c times she laughedy then broke out into cursing and 
tf blaspheming f," &c. On this occasion, he relates 
a fact, which, though He seems not to have turned 
to a proper use, the sober and attentive Reader may. 
" Our outward trials indeed were now removed, 
" and peace was in all our borders. But so much 
" the more did inward trials abound, and if one 
" member suffered^ all the members suffered with it. 
" So strange a SYMPATHY did I never observe before : 
" whatever considerable temptation fell on any one, 
" unaccountably spreading itself to the rest. So that 
" exceeding few were able to escape it J." In these 
various struggles, the Devil was at length tired out ; 
and Mr. Wesley forces him into close quarters ; to 
betake himself to the bodies of friend or foe indifferently, 
just as he could find opportunity or entertainment. 
And now comes on the shining part of our Apostle s 

* Journ. from Nov. i, 1739, to Sept. 3, 1741, p. 37. 
f Ibid. p. 38. } Ibid* p. 37. 

exploits. 



Chap. IV.] OF GRACE. 325 

exploits, the driving him out, in the face of the whole 
Congregation, by EXORCISMS and spiritual Eject 
ments. 

But if Evil thus abounded, Grace did much more 
abound in this memorable JEra, \vhen Mr. John 
Wesley first went out upon his Mission. The Spirit 
overcame all resistance, broke down all the strong 
holds of Sin, and, what Mr. Wesley was much more 

set against, of INSENSIBILITY, " So many living 

" Witnesses (says he) hath God given, that his hand 
" is STILL stretched out to heal, and that signs and 
" wonders are even NOW wrought by his holy Child, 
" Jesus *." For, out of the mouths of babes and suck 
lings, it once again, as of old, perfected praise ; the 
young men saw visions, and the old men dreamed 
dreams. 

" Amongst the poor Colliers at Placey, John Lane, 
" then nine or ten years old y was one of the first who 
" found peace with God. From that hour he continued 
" to walk day and night in the light of his countenance. 
" I saw him last year longing to be with Christ f," c 
" I enquired more particularly of Mrs. N. con- 
" cerning her little Son. She said, He appeared to 
" have a continual fear of God, and an awful sense 
" of his presence ; that he frequently went to prayers 
" by himself: that he had an exceeding great tender- 
" ness of Conscience, being sensible of the least sin. 
" A few days since he broke out into prayers aloud > 
" and then said, Mamma, I shall go to Heaven soon 
" and you will go there too, and my Papa ; but you 
" will not go so soon." On which Mr. Wesley very 
judiciously observes, " When the Holy Ghost teaches, 
" is there any delay in learning ? This Child was then 

* Journ. from Aug. 12, 1738, to Nov. i, 1739. 

| Journ. from July so, 1750, to Oct. 28, 1754, p. 18. 

Y 3 "just 



326 THE DOCTRINE [Book I L 

"just three years old. A year or two after he died in 
" peace *." 

" I heard (says he) a surprising account of 

" a young woman of Manchester, which I received 
" from her own mouth. She said, I was sitting in the 
ft house while one read the passion hymn. I had 
" always gone to Church, and had never heard any of 
ic the methodist preachers. On a sudden I saw our 
" Saviour on the Cross, as plain as if it had been with 
" my bodily eyes. Then I saw as it were Heaven 
" open, and God sitting upon his Throne. And I saw 
" a large book, in which all my sins were written f," &c. 

But this was nothing to the vision of S T , 

(a girl of ten years and thrze quarters old), which 
takes up between three and four pages in the telling ; 
so that partly for the length, but principally because I 
suspect Mr. J. Wesley intended it only for the solace 
of his babes and sucklings, for whose use this discourse 
is not intended, I shall only point to the Journal where 
the wonderful adventure is related J. For the same 
reason, I shall pass over many of the Dreams and 
Visions. 

All these wonders were not worked for nothing. 
The Spirit of the Lord was gone out, and it did not 
stop till it had manifested itself, in the last efforts of 
its power, THE NEW BIRTH : But it went not out, as 
of old, in the still, small voice, but in storms and 
tempests, in cries and ecstacies, in tumults and con 
fusion ; and when Nature was exhausted, then Grace 
had done its work. But he tells us, his correspon 
dents hearing of this strange affair, enquired of him, 
how can these things be ? They cautioned him not to 

* Journ. from Oct. 27, 1734, to Nov. 17, 1746, p. 133. 

f Journ. from Nov. 25, 1746, to July QO, 1750, p. 94. 

J Journ. from Oct, 27, 1743, to )jov. 17, 1746, p. 141, % seq. 

regard 



Chap. IV.] OFGRACE. 327 

regard visions or dreams, or to fancy people, had remis 
sion of sins because of their cries or tears, &c. To 
this, he tells us, he answered; " You deny that God 
" does now work these effects : at least that he works 
" them in this manner. I affirm both. I have seen 
" very many persons changed in a moment from the 
" spirit of fear, horror, despair, to the spirit of love, 
" joy, and peace. What I have to say touching visions 
" or dreams is this: I know several persons in whom 
" this great change was wrought in a dream, or during 
" a strong representation to the eye of their mind, of 
" Christ either on the Cross or in glory *." 

But here unhappily, as is usual in these matters, the 
symptoms of Grace and of Perdition were so inter 
woven and confounded with one another, that our 
Apostle himself is sometimes at a loss to distinguish 
the hand ; and to determine, with certainty, who had 
the largest share in the WORK, GOD or the DEVIL; 
insomuch that a Manichean might have greatly availed 
himself of this untoward circumstance. Mr. J. Wesley 
had been grieved, and the Spirit of God had been 
grieved likewise, at the scandal given by some of his 
own flock, who " blasphemed the work, and imputed 
" it either to Nature or the force of Imagination and 
" Animal-spirits, or even to the delusion of the 
" Devil f." " Many (says he) were deeply convinced; 
" but none were delivered from that painful conviction. 
" The Children came to the BIRTH, but there was not 
" strength to BRING FORTH. I fear we have grieved 
" the Spirit of the jealous God, by questioning his 
" work J." Yet these pangs of the NEW BIRTH be 
coming, on certain occasions, more violent, and more 
general than ordinary, and even found to be taking 

* Journ. from Aug. 12, 1738, to Nov. i, 1739, p. 48, 49. 
f Ibid. p. 59. J Ibid. p. 68. 

y 4 and 



328 THE DOCTRINE [Cook II. 

and infectious, the Apostle himself was staggered, 
and seemed ready to recant. " These symptoms I can 
" no more impute to any natural cause, than to the 
" Spirit of God. I make no doubt it was SATAN 
" tearing them as they were coming to Christ. And 
" hence proceeded those grievous cries, whereby he 
" might design both to discredit the work of God, 
" and to affright fearful people from hearing that word 
c< whereby their Souls might be saved *." But since 
these Symptoms were universal and inseparable from 
the new birth, I rather think, and 1 will venture to 
say, as it is only raising the Catachresis one step 
higher, that the Devil was here only in the office of 
Man-Midwife to the new birth. And Mr. Wesley 
himself, on second thoughts, seems not much averse to 
this conceit, as appears from the following relation : 
" I visited (says he) a poor old woman a mile or two 
" from the Town. Her trials had been uncommon ; 
" inexpressible agonies of mind joined with all sorts of 
" bodily pain, not (it seemed) from any natural cause, 
" but the direct operation of Satan : Her joys were 
" now as uncommon ; she had little time to sleep, 
" having for several months last past seen, as it were, 
" the unclouded face of God, and praised him day and 
" night f." 



CHAP. V. 

SUCH was the EVANGELIC STATE of things when 
Mr. J. Wesley first entered on this Ministry : who, 
seeing himself surrounded with subjects so harmoni 
ously disposed to obey the touch of a master, thus 

* Journ. from Sept. 3, 1741, to Oct. 27, 1743. 

t Journ. from July 20, 1749, to Oct. 30, 1751, p. 60. 

triumphantly 



Chap. V.] OF GRACE. 3-29 

triumphantly exults : " Full as I was, I knew not 
" where to begin, till my Testament opened on these 
" words, / came not to call the Righteous, but Sin- 
t ners, to repentance : In applying which, my soul 
" was so enlarged, that methought I could have cried 
" out (in another sense than poor, vain Archimedes) 
"Give me where to stand, and I will SHAKE THE 
" EARTH *." A bravado that would have suited Igna 
tius Loiola in his first slippery ecstacies in the mire, 
as the World has sufficiently experienced. How it 
became our adventurer, on his first setting out, the 
World may be brought to know in good time. 

Here then was a Scene well prepared for a good 
Actor, and excellently fitted up for the part he was 
disposed to play, which, as we have said, was that of 
an APOSTLE. And, to do him justice, he hath exhi 
bited it with such splendor, that, of all the Apostolic 
gifts and graces, there is but one with which we find 
him not adorned, viz. the gift of tongues ; and us to 
this, the learned Mr. J. Wesley may reply with the 
learned Paul, he already spoke with tongues more, than 
they all For the rest, whether they were prophecy- 
supernatural aids in his ministry healing the sick 
casting out Devils or inflicting divine vengeance on 
his opposers, he had them all, as we understand by 
\A& journals, in abundant measure. 

We will begin (as is fitting) where he himself began, 
with declaring his MISSION. " A multitude of people 
" got together in the house, yard, and street, far more 
" than my voice could reach. 1 cried aloud to as 
" many of them as could hear, All things are ready : 
" come ye to the marriage. I then DELIVERED MY 
" MESSAGE. So before ten we took boat f," &c. 

* Journ. from Aug. 12, 1738, to Nov. i, 1739. 

f Journ. from Nov. 45, 1746, to July 20, 1750, p. 29. 

Yet, 



330 THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

Yet, like Moses, he was at first a little mutinous. 
" From the directions I received from God this day, 
" touching an affair of the greatest importance, I 
" could not but observe the mistake of those who 
cc assert, f God will not answer your prayer, unless 
" your heart be wholly resigned to his will. My heart 
" was not entirely resigned to his will. Yet I know 
" and am assured, he heard my voice, and sent forth 
" his light and his truth *." 

PROPHECY or Speaking hy the Spirit, the first and 
most essential quality of a divine Messenger, he had at 
will. " We had (says he) a watch night at the Chapel : 
cc being weak in body, I was afraid I could not go 
" through it. But the longer I spoke, the more 
" strength I had. Insomuch that at twelve o clock all 
" my weariness and weakness was gone ; and I was 
" as one refreshed with winef." " Several of the 
" Gentry desired to stay at the meeting of the Society, 
" to whom I explained the nature of inward Religion, 
<c wordsflowing upon me faster than I could speak ." 
" I intended to have given an exhortation to the 
" Society. But as soon as we met, the Spirit of Sup- 
" plication fell upon us, so that I could hardly do any 
" thing but pray and give thanks, till it was time for 
" us to part " But the Spirit soon came down in a 
torrent that took away all utterance. " In the evening 
" the word of God was indeed quick and powerful. 
" Afterwards, I desired the men as well as women to 
" meet. But I could not speak to them. The Spirit 

* Journ. from his embarking for Georgia, to his return to 
London, p. 37. 

f Journ. from Nov. 25, 1746, to July 20, 1750, p. 32. 

I Journ from Sept. 3, 1741, to Oct. 27, 1743, p. 87. 

Journ. from Nov, *5 ? 1746, to July 20, 1750, p. 84, 85. 

"of 



Chap. V.] OF GRACE. 331 

" ofpraijer was so poured upon us all, that we could 
" only speak to God *." 

The exterior assistances in his Ministry were no less 
signal than the interior.* Many were seated on a 
" large wall adjoining, wliich, being built of loose 
" stones, in the tairid s u; the Sermon all fell down at 
" once. I never MW, heard, nor read, of such a thing 
* before. The whole wall and the persons sitting upon 
" it sunk down together, none of them screaming out, 
" and very few altering their posture. And not one 
" was hurt at all ; but they appeared sitting at the 
" bottom, just as they sat at the top. Nor was there 
" any interruption either of my speaking, or of the 
" attention of the hearers |." The next rises in due 
gradation. An unruly mob became of a sudden as 
harmless as the stones. Though, had they met, and 
opposed the ministry, together, one does not know 
what might have happened." The mob had just 
" broke open the door, when we came into the lower 
" room ; and exactly while they burst in at one door, 
" we walked out at the other. Nor did one man take 
" any notice of us, though we were within five yards 
" of each other J." Without doubt they were struck 
blind-, though, in imitation of the modest silence of the 
Evangelist, who relates the like adventure of the blessed 
Jesus, he forbears the express mention of this stupen 
dous miracle. The next and more powerful operation 
was on his female friends ; and these, he as fairly struck 
dumb "The whole multitude were silent, while I 
" was speaking. Not a whisper was heard. But the 
" moment I had done, the Chain fell off their tongues. 
" I was really surprised. Surely never was such a 

* Journ. from Sept. 3, 1741, to Oct. 27, 1743, !> 104- 
t Journ. from Nov. 25, 1746, to July 20, 1750, p. 23. 
$ Ibid. p. 57. 

4 cackling 



332 THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

cackling made on the banks of Cayster, or the Com- 
" mon of Sedgrnoor *." And to chain up the tongues 
of five hundred cackling gossips, he held, and with 
great reason, an exploit worth recording. Indeed he 
appears to have taken the most effectual method with 
them, that is, to out-clamour them : For thus he mea 
sures out his own Stentoronic voice. " Observing that 
" several sat on the side of the opposite hill, I after- 
(C wards desired one to measure the ground; and we 
" found it was sevenscore yards from the place where 
" I had stood. Yet the people there heard perfectly 
" well. I did not think any human voice could have 
" reached so far f." And as, on proper occasions, 
every courteous Knight-Errant has condescended to 
let his horse into a share of the adventure, so our 
Spiritual Martialist, unwilling to break so good a 
custom, has divided (as St. Martin did his cloak with 
the Beggar) the next exploit of price with his Beast. 
" My horse was exceeding lame we could not dis- 
" cern what it was that was amiss, and yet he could 
" scarce set his foot on the ground. My head ached 
<c more than it had done for some months (what I 
cc here aver is the naked fact; let every man account 
"for it as he sees good). I then thought, c Cannot 
" God heal either man or beast, by any means, or 
" without any / Immediately my weariness and head- 
" ach ceased, and my Horse s lameness in the same 
" instant. Nor did he halt any more either that day 
" or the next. A very odd accident this also ." 

Come we next to his GIFT OF HEALING. One 
of his miracles of this kind, had, it seems, been brought 
in question ; on which occasion, he thus explains 

* Journ. from Nov. 25, 1746, to July 20, 1750, p. 96. 
t Journ. from July so, 1753, to Oct. 28, 1754, p. 10. 
J Journ. from Oct. 27, 1743, to Nov. 17, 1746. 

himself: 



Chap. V.] OF GRACE. 333 

himself cc Miracle or no Miracle, the fact is plain. 
" W. Kirkman is, I apprehend, still alive and able to 
" certify for himself, that he had that cough threescore 
" years, and since that time [viz. the miraculous aid 
" afforded him] it had not returned *." In the pam 
phlet where this extraordinary case was first recorded, 
Mr. Wesley asks, Whether any one could suppose, 
that if he had performed it by his skill in physic, he 
should not have been ready to do honour to himself, 
rather than transfer that honour to another ? If Mr. 
Wesley be serious in this question, he is the dupe of 
his spiritual ambition. The Character of a great 
Saint is infinitely more flattering to the Head of a Sect 
than that of a great Physician. But to proceed 
" I administered ihe Sacrament to R. A. Some years 
" ago he found peace with God, and was freed at once 
" without any human means from a distemper naturally 
" incurable f ." But acute as well as chronical dis 
orders fly his sacred presence. " I found (says he) 
" Mr. Luneli in so violent a fever, that there was 
" little hope of his life. He revived the moment he 
" saw me, and fell into a breathing sweat. He began 
(< to recover from that time. Perhaps for this also 
" was I sent J." " In the evening I called upon Anne 
" Calcut. She had been speechless for some time. 
" But almost as soon as we began to pray, God re- 
" stored her speech. She then witnessed a good 
" confession indeed. I expected to see her no more. 

<c But, FROM THAT HOUR, THE FEVER LEFT HER, 

" and in a few days she arose and walked, glorify- 
" ing God ." " I visited several of the Sick, Most 

* Journ. from Nov. 25, 1746, to July 10, 1750, p. 123. 
t Journ. from July 20, 1749, to Oct. 30, 1751, p. 34. 
| Journ. from Sept. 3, 1741, to Get, 27, 1743, P 34 
$ Ib. id, 

"Of 



334 THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

" of them were ill of the spotted Fever ; which, they 
" informed me, had been extremely mortal, few per- 
" sons recovering from it. But God hud said, II i- 
" THERTO SHALT THOU COME. I believe there was 
" NOT ONE with whom we were, but he recovered*." 
" They told me the Physician said, he did not expect 
" Mr. Meyrick would live till the morning. I went to 
<e him, but his pulse was gone. He had been speech- 
" less and senseless for some time. A few of us 
" immediately joined in prayer (I relate the naked 
" fact}. Before we had done, his sense and his speech 
" returned. Now he that will account lor this by 
" natural causes, has my free* leave. I chuse to say, 
" THIS is THE POWER OF GOD f." However, gra 
cious as this free leave is, I would not, Reader ! be 
the man to advise you to trust to it. Saints are vin 
dictive : He has fairly told you what he chuses to call 
it. And after this, who can tell how far he may think 
the honour of God concerned in making so free with 
his Messenger as to take him at his word, having 
before solemnly assured you, of <c many living wit- 
" nesses which God hath given, that His hand is STILL 
" stretched out to heal ; and that signs and wonders 
" are even NOW, wrought by his holy Child JESUS J? " 
From the cure of natural diseases, proceed we to 
the supernatural, or, saving your presence, to the 
CASTING OUT OF DEVILS. Having related, by way 
of prelude, the extravagancies of a furious female De 
moniac of nineteen or twenty years of age, \\hom he 
set to rights without much ceremony; he proceeds 
immediately to another of the same Sex ; but her he 
exorcises in form, and according to the true Roman 

* Journ. from Nov. i, 1739, to Sept. 3, 1741, p. 61. 
f Journ. from Sept. 3, 1741, to Oct. 27, 1743, p. 81. 
| Journ. from Aug. 12. 1738, to Nov. i> 1739? P- 4- 

fashion. 



Chap. V.] OF GRACE. 335 

fashion. " I was sent for to one in Bristol She lay 
" on the ground furiously gnashing her teeth, and 
" after a while roared aloud. It was not easy for 
" three or four persons to hold her, especially when 
" the name of Jesus was named. We prayed ; the 
f( violence of her symptoms ceased, though, without 
" a complete deliverance. In the evening, being sent 
" for to her again, I was unwilling, indeed afraid to 
t go ; thinking it would not avail, unless some, who 
<c were strong in faith, were to wrestle with God for 
" her. 1 opened my Testament on these words / 
" was afraid, and went and hid my talent in the earth. 
" I stood reproved, and went immediately. She began 
" screaming before I came into the room, then broke 
" out into a horrid laughter mixt with blasphemy, 
" grievous to hear. One who, from many circum- 
<c stances, apprehended a preternatural Agent to be 
" concerned in this, asking, How didst thou dare to 
" enter into a Christian ? was answered, She is no 
" Christian. She is mine. Q. Dost thou not tremble 
" at the name of Jesus ? No words followed, but she 
" shrunk back, and trembled exceedingly. Q. Art 
" thou not encreasing thy own damnation ? It was 
" faintly answered. Ay, ay : which was followed by 
" fresh cursing and blaspheming. My Brother coming. 
" in, she cried out, Preacher! Field- Preacher, I 
" do not love field-preaching. This was repeated two 
<c hours together, with spittings and all the expres- 
" sions of strong aversion. And now it was that 
" God shewed he heareth the Prayer She was filled 
" with peace, and knew that the Son of Wickedness 
" was departed from her" This is very well : The 
next is not inferior " I was sent for to Kingswood 
1 ag?in" [namely to the young woman with whom he 
preludes these achievements.] A violent rain began 

" just 



336 THE DOCTRINE [Book 1 1. 

" just as I set Out, so that I was thoroughly wet in a 
" few minutes. Just at that time the woman (then 
" three miles off) cried out, Yonder comes Wesley 
" galloping as fast as he can. When I was come, I 
" was quite cold and dead, and fitter for sleep than- 
" prayer. She burst out into a horrid laughter, and 
a said, No power, no power ; no faith, no faith: She 
" is mine. Her Soul is mine, I have her, and will 
te not let go. We begged of God to increase our 
" faith. One, who was clearly convinced this was no- 
" natural disorder, said, / think Satan is let loose. 
" I FEAR HE WILL NOT STOP HERE; and added, I 
" command thee in the name of the Lord Jesus, to 
" tell if thou hast commission to torment any other 
" Soul. It was immediately answered, / have; 

" L y C r and S h J s, two who 

" lived at some distance, and were then in perfect 
" health *." In which, I dare say, they did not long 
continue, after the Exorcist had thus consigned them 
over to Satan, now let loose to do Mr. Wesley honour. 
But what is most material (if we may believe Him or 
his spiritual Coadjutor) is, that Mr. Wesley s new 
birth only makes the Christian ; and that the Devil 
hates, field-preaching. To evince these great Truths, 
seems to have been the end both of the Possessions 
and of the Exorcisms. POPERY and PURITANISM, 
it is to be observed, have, at times, for the like 
righteous ends, received equal credit from the same 
reverend Testimonies, the Devil and the Priest: 
as the curious may read with pleasure in the Detec 
tion of two famous impostures carried on in each of 
those Quarters, and recorded by the elegant pen of 

* Journ. from Aug. 12, 1738, to Nov. i, 1739, pp. 92, 93, 
& seq. 

Dr. 



Chap. V.] OF GRACE. 337 

Dr. Samuel HARSX KT *, bishop of Norwich, and after 
wards Archbishop of York. By which we may gather, 
that the Inhabitants below are divided into Sects as 
well as those above ; and that there are Popish, Puri 
tan, and Methodist, DEVILS; who have all, in their 
turns, been forced to answer to Interrogatories; and 
to depose in honour of the Sect they persecuted, at 
the expence of that to which they belonged. 

Such were the blessings which Mr. Wesley bestowed 
upon his Friends : for his Enemies he had other things 
in store ; and those no small ones, the exterminating 
JUDGMENTS OF HEAVEN. Yet still the treatment 
was strictly Apostolical. " I preached (says he) at 
" Darlaston, . late a den of Lions : But most of the 
" fiercest of them God had called away by A TRAIN 
" OF AMAZING STROKES; and those that remain 
" are now as lambs f." The corrections, we see, as 
those of Heaven should, had their proper effect. 

: I preached at R , once a place of furious riot 

1 and persecution; but quiet and calm, since the 
" bitter Rector is gone to give AN ACCOUNT OF 
" HIMSELF TO GOD J." " Hence we rode toT- -, 
where the Minister was slowly recovering from a 
" violent fit of the Palsy, with which he was struck 
" immediately after he had been preaching a virulent 
" Sermon against the Methodists ." ; The Rev. 

Mr. preached and inveighed very much 

" against the novel sect, the upstart Methodists 
" Shortly after, he was to preach [the same sermon 

* A declaration of. egregious Popish impostures, $c. Lend. 
1603. Q.~- Declaration of Puritan impost urek^, in the case of 
Darrelj &c. Lond. 1599. Q* 

t Journ. from July 20, 1740, to Oct. 30, 1751, p. 81. 

I Journ, from July 20, 1750, to Oct. 28, 1754, p. 11. 

Ibid. p. 23. 

VOL. VIII. Z " again.] 



33 8 THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

" a^ain]. He had named the text twice, when he 
ci was suddenly seized with a rattling in his throat, 
" attended with a hideous groaning. He fell back- 
" ward against the door of the pulpit ; was carried 
" away, as it seemed, dead into the vestry. In two 
" or three days he recovered his senses, and the Sunday 
" following, DIED*." 

" One of the chief of those who came to make the 
" disturbance on the first instant, had HAXGKD HIM- 
t; SELF. A second of them had been for some days 
(i in strong pain, and had many times sent to desire 
" our prayers. A third came to me himself, and con- 
" fessed, he was hired that night and made drunk on 
" purpose : But when he came to the door, he knew 
not what was the matter, he could not stir nor open 
" his mouth |." Here, by ill luck, the miracle suffers; 
for drunkenness alone is but too apt to deprive a man 
of bis faculties of sjieecli and local motion. : I was 
- quite surprised when I heard Mr. II- - preach. 
" That soft, smooth, tuneful voice, which lie so often 
" employed to blaspheme the Wo/-/: of God, was lost 
" without hope of r< co v ery: All means had been tried, 
" but none took place. He no* spoke in a manner 

- SHOCKING TO HLAItJ," &C. " Mr. C. spoke SO 

much in favour of the Rioters, that they were all 
c< {: d a few days after, Mr. C. walking over 

" the same field dropt down, and spoke no more. 
Surely the MERCY of God would not suffer a well- 
" meaning man to bo any longer a tool to Persecu 
te t< v , " Calling at Newgate [in Bristol] I was 
<( informed that the poor wretches under sentence of 

* Journ. from Sept. 3, 1741, to Oct. 27, 1743* P- 1O 3> 104. 
| Jourr- |0. i, l?39, to Sept. 3, 1741. 

j Journ. from Nov. 25, 174^, to July 20, 1750, p. 79- 
4 Ibid. p. 108. 

< ; death 



Chap. V.] OF GRACE. 339 

death were earnestly,;-.- _ to speak with me; 

6 but that it could not be : Alderman Beecher having 

" just then sent an express order, that they should 

not. I CITL Aide) man Jxtc.^/- t<; qQSQfr 
" Souls at the judgmcn: irist *." 

In reviewing these JUDGMI N _.i fulminated 

with the air of one who hud the divine Veng. 
his disposal) I rind some difference between his and 
those inflicted by the Apostles. 

i. Th.ir terrors tall upon Cheats and Impos: 
such as Ananias and S.ipphira : Elynuu the Sorct 
and Simon the -Magician: Whereas the j^Umeuts of 
this new Apostle strike only the members of his own 
Church, for opposing ti;e tumults of fiejtf* 
and the freaks of, what ho calls, THE XKU- BIRTH. 
-. The Enemies of the infant Church were the Je- 
Leaders ; an.J tlioy persecuted in good earned : yet all 
these, the Apostit s left untouched, and reserved them 
for a future reckoning. Mr. Wesley s ene. ( his 

own fellow-member, and tney persecute in jest; that 
is, they beat drums, they ring bells, and roar with the 
rabble; yet these, with unrelenting rage, he cutsttf 
troubling him: while the anger oAhe holy A po.-. 
on the like occasion, never rose higher than a passionate 
M-isht. These differences, 1 leave Mr. YTesley to 
reconcile. There is another, which, I think, I may 
be able to account for myself. 3. When the Aperies 
punished publicly, they as publicly pronounced sen 
tence. Thus to Sapphira, Behold tkt feet of than 
ichich buried th 11 husband arc i:t the Door, and shall 
carry thce out ; to Simon, Thu ihcn-:ii perish \vini 
THEE; and to Elvmas, JNV:. < of the 

Lord is upoy thee. and thou shalt be blind Rut. in 
this very important affair, Mr. Wesley appears to kive 

Journ from Nov. : 3 . i; 4 s. M July *o, 1750, p. 31. 
t 1 90*14 they vcrc cccn cut ojt v/iiclk trouble you, Gal v. i 

2 ^ followed 



340 THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

followed a better model, the practice of the INQUI 
SITION ; where, though the Execution be with all the 
open pomp of bitter and uncharitable piety, the Sen 
tence, it is well known, is ever pronounced in secret. 
In one instance indeed, he varies from his model; 
and, at Bristol, commences, as we have seen, a regular 
process against Mr. Alderman Beecher; whom he 
summoneth, to give an account for lost fhuU, at the 
judgment-scat of Christ : Put whether the Alderman 
demurred; or whether lie cxccpted to the jurisdic 
tion ; or indeed what became of him, after he had 
been so fairly cited, we no where learn. 

These are some of the extraordinary Graces oi 
which Mr. J. Wesley assumes the Privileges. But 
let not this faithful view of them, delivered in his own 
words, be mistaken for a confutation. My purpose, 
here, is only to shew that he lays claim to them, and 
so becomes a proper Subject of the APOSTOLIC TEST, 
by which we are enabled to discriminate all sublunary 
Wisdom from that which is from above. And if, on 
the application now to be made, he cannot bear the 
touch, it will be our fault not to see him for the fu 
ture, in his genuine FOKM of Deluder and Fanatic: 
which he has been long suspected to have covered 
with another, namely, the FORM OF GODLINESS. 



CHAP. VI. 

WE come now to the application of this Sovereign 
Test, the Scourge and Confusion of Imposture. 
- This WISDOM FROM ABOVE, of which the Apostle 
s> liighly predicates, is, we see, the same as Wisdom 
revealed immediately from Heaven; but, descending 
to Man, is adapted to the capacity of his Powers. 
So that heavenly and earthly wisdom have this in 

common, 



Chap. VI.] OF GKACK. 34 1 

common, to be COMMUNICABLE, that is, TO EL. 
UNDERSTOOD. Foi to communicate nonsense, which 
is a nothing, is no communication. When therefore 
\ve find a pretender to inspiration, such as JACOB 
BEHMEX, delivering to us, under this Character, a 
heap of unmeaning, or, what amounts to the same 
thing, unintelligible words, we reasonably conclude, 
that if indeed, this Wisdom did come from above, it 
hath so degenerated in its \vaydo\\n, as to be ever 
unlit to return; but must be content, with the other 
lapsed Entities of celestial original, to seek employ 
ment amongst fools and knaves, here below. Nor 
will the Apology of his illuminated Disciple *, in his 
book called Tht I /ay to divine Knowledge, at all mend 
the matter. " When Jacob, (says he) like Elijah, 
" in his FIERY CHARIOT, is caught up into such 
" heights, and sees and relates such things as I cannot 
" yet comprehend, I love and reverence him for being 
" where I never was, and seeing such things as he 
" cannot make me see ; just as I love and reverence 
" St. Paul t," c. The comparison, we see, is ho- 

* Mr. William Law. 

f The way to DIVINE KNOWLEDGE, &c. p. 88. Mr. John 
Wesley, indeed, though no enemy to these superb Vehicles, 
speaks very disrespectfully of Jacob s $ cry Chariot: " I can and 
" must say thus much [of his Mysterium magnum] and that 
< with as full evidence, as I can say that two and two make four, 
" it is most sublime nonsense, illimitable bombast, fustian not 
" to be paralleled." Journal from Sept. 3, 1741, to Oct. 27, 
1743. Another writer, who had the best means of being well 
informed, assures us, that this Jien/ Chariot was not of Jewish 
but of German construction. " Jac. Uohmius Sutor Gorli-- 
" censis Hie cum uatura ipsa proclivis esset ad res abditas per- 
" ^estigandas, et Hob. Fluddii ac Rosajcrucianonun scita cog- 
" novi-sMt. Th< oloui;im, ine tlucc, imagioatlone comitc invenit, 
" ip^is Pvthiigoncis numeris et lleracliti notis obscuriorem ita 
4/ enim Chymicis imaginat. oni bus et tanta verborum conl uiione 
" et cali^ine omnia miscet, ut ipsc sibi obsnvpere videatuf."- 
J. L. Mosheinii I-nst, Hist. Eccl. ant. & recent. 

z 3 n curable ; 



342 THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

nourable ; though less apposite than one could wish : 
For here lies the difference between Jacob and Paul : 
the Jtosecrucian talks largely of what he knew his 
reader could not understand ; and the Apostle, as 
Master of himself, though not of his Subject, more 
sagely observes a religious silence *. But so will not 
Mr. William Law, who is Master of neither. And 
who, without the blessed Jacob s Jicry Chariot, can 
soar like him to the lunar region of lost intellects ; 
from whence he brings us these curiosities a hungry, 
wrathful, material jire spiritual materiality a mir- 
rour of sound wrath turned into Sun and Stars 
darkness into Earthsud mobility into Air: And in 
forms us of these secrets, that life is desire ; that rage 
is the cause oj hardness in ajl mt ; meekness, of fluidity 
in water ; that earthly serpents are but transitory out- 
births of covetoumess, envy, pride and wrath , and 
lastly, that body is only coagulated or Curdled spirit: 
with much more to the same purpose, that would dis 
grace even Bedlam at full moon. 



CHAP. VII. 

HAVING shewn this Wisdom to be, in its nature, 
COMMUNICABLE, and so, cut off all the bold pre 
tensions of these MYSTICS, we come to what St. 
James makes its first and essential quality; The 
wisdom Jrom above, says he, is FIRST, PURE; upwrov 
plv uyvv ts-w i. e. pure, both from carnal and spiri- 
tual pollution. Now as Mr. JVm. Law begot 

2 Cor. xii. 4. 

METHODISM, 



Chap. VI L] OF GRACE. 343 

METHODISM *, and Count Zinzendorf rocked the 
Cradle, it may not be improper, first, of all, to exa 
mine their pretensions to this essential quality of hea 
venly wisdom, purity. 

As purity respects practice, those followers of the 
Count, the MORAVIANS, give us little trouble. For 
to pass by their open Hymn-book, a heap of blas 
phemous and beastly nonsense ; if we may give credit 
to the yet unconfuted relations both in Print and in 
MS. (composed by their own Members, the Partici 
pants of their most sacred mysteries), their practices 
in the consummation of marriage, or, as their Ritual 
calls it, the Marriage Economy, are so horribly, so 
unspeakably flagitious f, that this People seems to 
have no more pretence to be put into the number of 
Christian Sects than the TURLUPINS of the thirteenth 
Century; a vagabond crew of miscreants, who rambled 
over Italy, France, and Germany, under the title of 
Brothers and Sisters of the free Spirit; who, in 
speculation, professed that species of Atheism, called 
Pantheism , and in practice, claimed an exemption 
fronTali the obligations of morality and religion. 

The BEHMENISTS, indeed, have not extended the 
FREEDOM of their Spirit to this length ; yet the Leader 

* " Meeting with Mr. Law s Christian Perfection and serious 
Call the light flowed in so mightily on my soul, that every 
" thing appeared in a new View/ &c. &c. Journ. from Fb. i, 
1737-8, to his return from Germany, p. 29. 

f Mr. J. Wesley, in a melancholy account, which, he says, he 
received of these Wretches at Bedford, insert the follow ng par 
ticular " Mr. Rimius has said nothing to what might have been 
" said concerning their MA am AGE ECONOMY. I know (saith flic 
" informer] a hundred times more than he has written. But 
" the particulars are too shocking to relate. I oelieve no such 
" things were ever practised before, no not amongst the most 
" barbarous Heathens." Jouru. from July 20, 1750, to Oct. 28, 

*754 P- 74- - 

z 4 of 



344 THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

of the sect, amongst us, though manifesting an exem 
plary abhorrence of all carnal impurity, has fallen 
into the lowest dregs of the Spiritual ; and hath written 
a large discourse to recommend PANTHEISM, a Doc 
trine so much ennobled by the Turlupins, of the thir 
teenth Century; so learnedly explained by the Carte 
sian Spinosists, and so politicly concealed by the Chi 
nese Virtuosi : which teaches, that there is but one 
universal Substance existing, of which, the Creature 
and Creator (if, after this, they are to be distinguished) 
participate in common. The general principles of 
this unhappy Philosophy, the Reader may find in the 
note below *. 

But 

* " It is the same impossibility for a thing to be created out 
" of nothing, as to be cretited by nothing. It is no more a part 
" or prerogative of God s omnipotence to create a Being out of 
" nothing, than to make a thing to be without any one quality of 
" Being, in it Every creature is nothing else tJaan NATURE 
" put into a certain form of existence." An Appeal tcTall that 
doubt or disbelieve the Truths of the Gospel. By W. Law, M. A. 
1742, p. 8. 

" That which thinks and wills in the soul, is that VERY SAME 
" unbeginning breath which thought and willed in God, before 
> l it was breathed into the form of a human soul ; and therefore 
" it is, that Will and Thought cannot be bounded. The essences 
" of the soul were a breath in God before they became a living 
" soul, they lived in God before they lived in the created soul ; 
u and therefore the soul is a partaker of the eternity of God, 
" and can never cease to be." p. 10. 

The creation of a soul is the bringing the powers of thinking 
" and willing out of their eternal state in the one God, into a 
" beginning state of self-conscious life, distinct from God. And 
" this is God s omnipotent creating ability, that he can make 
the powers of his own nature become creatural, living personal 
;< images of what he is in himself, in a state of DISTINCT TERSOX- 
" ALITY from him." p. 12. 

It is no more a property of the divine omnipotence to be able 
" to annihilate a soul, than to be able to make an eternal truth 

" become 



Chap. VII.] OF GRACE. 345 

But next to this impurity of fanatic Wisdom, which 
sets NATURE in the throne of GOD, is that other, 
which separates REASON from GRACE. It is " a 
" point we CHIEFLY INSIST UPOX, (says Mr. J. 
" Wesley, the pillar and ground of Methodism) that 
" orthodoxy or RK;HT OPINION is, at best, but a very 
"slender part of Religion, IF ANY PART OF IT AT 
"ALL*." Here we see REASOX is, as it were, dis 
carded from the service of RELIGION, and from its 

attendance 

" become a fiction of yesterday. And to think it a lessening of 
" the power of God, to say, that he cannot annihilate the soul, is 
" as absurd as to say, that it is a lessening of the light of the 
" Sun, if it cannot destroy or darken its own rays of light." p. 17. 
" To suppose this or any other MATERIAL world to be made 
" out of nothing, has all the same absurdities in it as the sup- 
" posing angels and spirits to be created out of nothing. All the 
" qualities of all beings are eternal. All qualities, properties, or 
" whatever can be affirmed of God, are self-existent and neces- 
" sarily-existent. Self and necessary existence is not a particular 
" attribute of God, but is the general nature of every thing that 
" can be affirmed of God. All qualities and properties are self- 
" existent in God. It follows undeniably, that EVERY CREATED 

" THING MUST HAVE ITS WHOLE NATURE FROM, AND OUT OF, 
" THE DIVINE NATURE." pp. 2$, 24. 

" Properly and strictly speaking, nothing CAN BEGIN to be. 
" The beginning of every thing is nothing more than its beginning 
" to be in a new state. No quality or power of nature then 
" began to be; but such qualities and powers as had been from 
" all eternity began then to be in a new state. Ask what fire, 
" light, darkness, air, water, and earth are; they are andean be 
" nothing else but some ETERNAL THINGS, BECOME gross, finite, 
" measurable, divisible and transitory : For if there could be a 
" temporal fire that did not spring out of eternal fire, then there 
" might be time that did not come out of eternity." pp. 114, 15. 

" Will any one now call these things whimsical .^peculations? 
" Can any thing be thought of, more WORTHY of Ged, more 
" CONFORMABLE to Nature, or more CONSONANT to all revealed 
" Religion?" p. 118. 

* Mr. J. Weeley s Plain Account, &c. p. 4. 



346 THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

attendance on GRACE : though one part of the office 
of the Holy Spirit be to lead us into all truth. For 
when Reason is no longer employed to distinguish 
between right and wrong in Opinions, Religion hath 
no further connexion with it. And what occasion for 
its service when the distinction, we are told, is of so 
little consequence ? And yet if we once agree to sepa 
rate Reason from Religion, Piety w ill soon degenerate 
into Superstition or Fanaticism. But the Piety of the 
first ages had a different essence : it was then the glory 
of the Gospel to be a reasonable Service. By this 
quality it was distinguished from the various modes of 
Gentile Worship, which entirely consisted in the fanatic 
Raptures of their Prophets, and the Superstitious Rites 
of their Priests. Articles of belief, or a formula of 
Faith, they left to those Innovators who had now pre 
tended to bring in Reason for the regulation of Reli 
gion ; orthodox or right Opinion being (on the prin 
ciples of these antient Masters of the Mob, the sup 
porters of Paganism) at best but a very slender part 
of Religion, if any part of it at all. On the other 
hand, St. PAUL considered right_ Opinion as a full 
third part, at least, of Religion ; where speaking of the 
three great supports which the Master-builder, the 
HOLY SPIRIT, had provided for the Christian-Church, 
he makes this, of right opinion^ to be one. The fruit 
of the Spirit (says he) is in all GOODNESS and RIGH 
TEOUSNESS and TRUTH *. For by Goodness^ is 
meant the conduct of Particulars to the Whole ; and 
consists in the exemplary habits of social virtue : and 
this refers to CHRISTIAN PRACTICE. By righteous 
ness is meant the conduct of the Whole to Particu 
lars ; and consists in that equal gentleness of Govern- 



* Eph. v. 9. f Aya(Wv*j. J 

ment, 



Chap. VII.] OF GRACE. 347 

ment, where Church- Authority is made to coincide 

with the private rights of Conscience ; and this refers 

to CHRISTIAN DISCIPLINE. And by Truth * is 

meant the conduct of the Whole and of Particulars to 

one another, mutually ; and consists in Orthodoxy or 

right Opinion ; and this refers to CHRISTIAN DOC 

TRINE. So different an idea had St. Paul of RELI 

GION from what this over-zealous man hath been led 

to entertain of it. No less was the difference, which 

the first Reformers from the errors of Popery, enter 

tained of it; who, for the sake of right ^ opinion., occa 

sioned so many revolutions in C rcil as well as in 

spiritual Systems ; the perversity of men turning, as 

it had before done, the message oifeace into a xword^. 

How much then had all these to answer for, if right 

opinion be at best but a slender part of Religion, if any 

part of it at all. Without doubt, Mr. Wesley has, by 

this declaration, provided well for the fortune of his 

own Sect, amongst all denominations of Christians. 

But what obligations the Church of England (of which 

he professes himself a member) has unto him for thus 

shortening the labours of the Popish Missionaries, he 

would do well to consider. Such escapes as these, I 

suppose, they were, which occasioned the reports of his 

preaching Popery to his Followers ; a calumny of 

which he bitterly complains : and not without reason : 

for, to do him justice, I believe he has as little regard 

to the interests of Popery as any of his hearers ; and 

as much to his Own : the truth seems to be this. He 

could not find a better mean of securing the honour of 

his own pretensions than by this extraordinary decla 

ration. He saw the exact resemblance there is between 



f Matt. x. 34. Think not that I am come to send peace on 
earth, I came not to send peace, but a sword. 

his 



348 THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

his Saints and those of the Church of Rome, at the 
time of the XEW BIRTH. This might lead reflecting 
men to conclude, that the Original of both was the 
same. Yet as the ^oj3^ n an< ^ Protestauj^ojjinions, or 
Articles ot faith, are very opposite to one another, the 
God of Truth (while Truth was supposed to constitute 
a principal part of Religion) could never be believed 
to have any thing to do with the new birth, whether 
Popish or Protestant. Nothing then was left for those 
who had deserted Nature, but to ascribe both to 
Enthusiasm or Demonianism. To avoid this disgrace, 
Mr. Wesley rather chases to let Popery share with 
him in the glory of divine communications, and ex 
press! v vouches for the Miracles wrought at the tomb 
of Abbe Paris *. Now this concession could be no 
otherwise supported, than by inculcating the notion, 
that errors in Faith have so little to do with Religion, 
that they are no bar or impediment to the highest 
iavours of the Holy Spirit. It is the point (says he) 
we chiefly insist: upon, that Orthodoxy or right opinion 
is at best but a very slender part of Religion, if any 
part of it at all. Great reason likewise had he to 
INSIST ON THIS POINT, on another account, namely, 
the Character he hath given of his own Saints. u The 
" more (says he) I converse with this People, the more 
" I am amazed. That God had wrought a great work 
" is manifest. And yet the main of them are not 
" able to give a rational account of the plainest prin- 
" dp ies of Religion" Nor is this observation confined 
to the People. He had made a proselyte of Mr. D. 
vicar of B. And to shew he was no discredit to his 
Master, he delivers him to us under this Character 
" He seemed to stagger at nothing ; though as yet his 

* Joura. from July 20, 1749, to Oct. 30, 1751, p. 23. 

" under- 



CHap. VII.] O F G R A C E. 349 

" understanding Is not opened* He then attempts 
at the cause of this strange Phenomenon. " It is plain, 
(( God begins his work at the Heart ; then the inspira- 
" tionofthe Highest giveth understanding t-" Butthi* 
solution, though it be in Scripture language, is neither 
Scripture doctrine nor history. In the first propagation 
of Ileligion7~God began with the understanding ; and 
rational conviction won the heart. When the Holy 
Ghost fell on the Disciples at the day of Pentecost, 
the devout men of every nation under heavtn heard 
them speak in their own tongues. But what ? Not the 
jaivon of fanatic movements, but the wondered works 
of God, i. e. they heard them give a rational account 
of the various parts of God s religious Dispensations 
to Mankind. It was just the same on all other occa 
sions : when the Spirit first fell upon Believers, they 
prophesied] that is, they explained the Scriptures of 
the Prophets. But the dissension amongst the Corin 
thians set this matter in the clearest light, and shews 
that the first effect of inspiration is to give underlie. < tid 
ing. Their understanding was so inlarged by all spi 
ritual gifts, that the work not having been begun at the 
heart, they abused these advantages to the violation 
of Charity. But, for this discordancy, betueen his 
Mission and St. Paul s, he has a salvo: he observes 
occasionally, in several places of his Journal, " that 
" God now not only does a new work, but by new 
" ways. * This solution of our spiritual Empiric, puts 
one in mind of the Quack in Molicre, who having 
placed the freer on the left side, and the heart on the 
right, and bring told that the .structure of the parts 
was cntainly otherwise, replied, " Oui, cela e"toit autre 
fois ainsi; mais nous avons change tout cela, & nous 

* Journ. from July -20, 1750, to Oct. 28, 1754, p. 1 i- 
| Journ. from Nov. 25, 1746, to July ao, i75<s i** 

faisOns 



350 THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

faisons maintenant la medecine (Tune methode toute 
nouvelle." But though he talks of the under standing 
coming after, this is only to put off his babes of grace 
to latter lammas : Which he has plainly enough insi 
nuated in a parallel between the WORK carried on in 
England and in America. " I now (says he) looked 
<c over Mr. Prince s Christian History. What an 
" amazing difference is there in the manner wherein 
" God has carried on his work in England and in 
"America! There, above an hundred of the esta- 
" blished Clergy, men of age and experience, and of 
" the greatest note for sense and learning in those 
" parts, are zealously engaged in the work. Here, 
" almost the whole Body of the aged, experienced and 
" learned clergy, are zealously engaged against it : a 
* few, but a handful of raw young men, engaged in 
"it: without name, learning, or EMINENT SENSE ! 
" And yet by that large number of honourable men 
" the work seldom flourished above six months at a 
"time; and then followed a lamentable and general 
" decay, before the next revival of it : Whereas that 
" which God hath wrought by these despised instru- 
" ments hath continually increased for fifteen years 
" together *." Now, what is this but to tell us, that 
the understanding hath nothing, and will have nothing, 
to do in the WORK ? 

On the whole, therefore, we conclude, That that 
Wisdom which divests the Christian Faith of its Truth, 
and the test of this Truth, Reason, and resolves all 
into internal feelings, into mystic spiritualism, and ec 
static raptures, instead of giving it the manly support 
of MORAL DEMONSTRATION, That this, I say, can 
never be the wisdom which is from above, whose cha 
racteristic attribute is Purity. Thus, on a fair trial, 

* Journ. from July 20, 1750, to Oct. 28, 1754, p. 43. 

these 



Chap. VIII.] OF GRACE. 351 

these illuminated Doctors have, at their very first 
entrance, excluded themselves from their high preten 
se u is : Principles like these always coming from Spi 
ritual impurity : and often leading, as we have seen, 
into the very sink of the carnal. 



CHAP. VIII. 

BUT now, had it been our good fortune to have 
found the matter otherwise ; and that the Wisdom in 
quired after had rested upon that foundation on which 
celestial Wisdom must necessarily stand (and this it 
might well do, though it came not immediately from 
the Fountain-head of Purity ; as the unbroken Cisterns 
of Holy Writ were amply sufficient to supply these 
living waters) ; our next business would be to pro 
secute the inquiry, and to apply the other apostolic 
marks to these pretending Sectaries. 

Of these marks, the first only (which has been so 
amply discussed) namely purity, respects the NATURE 
of the Wisdom from above ; or, in other words, the. 
Doctrines taught. All the rest, which follow, concern 
the MANNER of teaching, or the Conduct of the 
Teachers. We are not therefore to stop short in our 
inquiry, because we may have found that the mark of 
purity has answered to the touch ; though Mr. J. 
Wesley (who assures us that he preaches nothing but 
the doctrine of the Church of England) thinks this 
sufficient to satisfy all reasonable men concerning his 
conduct. <c I simply described (says he) the plain 
" old Religion of the Church of England, which is 

o / %/ vy 

" now almost every where spoken against, under the 
" name of METHODISM *." If Methodism be spoken 
* Journ. from Aug. 12, 1738, to Nov. i, 1739* P- 9- 

against. 



352 THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

against, those who censure it, could mean neither an 
old nor a new Religion, since the word signifies only 
the manner of propagating either one or the other. 
And, of all men, Mr. Wesley should best know the 
meaning of the term ; since it was not a nick-name 
imposed on the Sect by its enemies, but an appellation 
of honour assumed by, and bestowed upon, themselves. 
If therefore they preach only the plain old Religion of 
the Church of England, they could mean nothing, by 
Methodism, but the manner of preaching it ; for the 
thing itself needed no other name of distinction than 
that which it had already. Why then will Mr. J. 
Wesley so grossly misrepresent his Adversaries as to 
say, that when they speak against Methodism, they 
speak against the plain old Doctrine of the Church of 
England? since he himself has taught them to call 
methodism (and they might well have called it by a 
harder name) the manner, in which he and his follow 
ers attempt to propagate this plain old Religion. 

However, strip him of his prevarication and his 
sophistry, and we find him plainly enough declaring, 
" That the manner of preaching, so it be truth which 
" is preached, ought to give no offence." And, to this 
purpose, he relates the following conversation : " A 
u serious Clergyman desired to know, In what point 
tc we differed from the Church of England ? I answer- 
" ed, To the best of my knowledge, in none. The 
" Doctrines we preach are the Doctrines of the Church 
" of England. Indeed, the fundamental doctrines of 
" the Church, clearly laid down both in her Prayers, 
" Articles, and Homilies *." 

Be this never so true, yet it will still be as true that 
the most holy things may be depraved, in passing 
through impure hands; and that, RIGHT OPINION, 

* Juurn, from Aug. 1*2, 1738, to Nov. i, 1739, p. 81. 

which 



Chap. VIII.] OF GRACE. 353 

which inspires wisdom and promotes peace, may then 
serve for nothing hut to turn the heads and hearts of 
men to folly and dissension, otherwise naturally framed 
and di-posed to profit hy the truth. Indeed, a I-AXA- 
TIC .UAXXKR of preaching, though it were the doctrine 
of an Apostle, may do more harm, to Society at least, 
than a modest revival of old speculative heresies, or, 
than the invention of ?tew- since it tends to bewilder 
the Reason of some, to inflame the Passions of others ; 
and, in that state of things, to spread disorder and 
disturbance throughout the whole Community. And 
in subjection to the Civil Community was the Gospel 
first preached ; and under the protection of it was it, 
at length, every where established. For, what does 
FIELD PREACHING (for instance) imply, but & famine 
of the ITord, occasioned by a total neglect in the 
spiritual Pastors appointed by Law? And what can it 
produce, but strong resentments in behalf of the Minis 
ters of Religion, thus injuriously treated : What can 
be the issue of the XKW IJHITH, attended with those 
infernal throes and frightful agitations so graphically 
described in the Journals of Mr. J. Wesley, but high 
ferments in behalf of Religion itself, thus scandalously 
dishonoured and traduced? 

The sacred Writer himself, who delivered this TEST 
for the trial of these Men s pretensions, was unquestion 
ably in these sentiments, " that a .fanatic Spirit did 
more mischief in the mode of teaching, than an em>- 
mwus one, in the matter taught;" since, of half a 
do/en marks recommended for this purpose, the first 
only is applicable to the doctrine ; all the rest concern 
the mftHHrrx of the Teacher. 

Nay, what is more, we have Mr. J. Wesley himself, 
for oiK-o, on the side of the Apostle, where he says, 
that it M a point he chittfi/ huhts upw, thai ORTHO- 

Voi.. VIII. A, A DOXY 



354 THE DOCTRINE [Book I L 

DOXY or RIGHT OPIXIOX /.v, at best, but a very 
slender part of Religion, [f any part of It at all. The 
Operation of H elision on the heart therefore (which 
with him is the same as on the fancy, and manifests 
itself in corporeal agitations) is the principal point. 
But this, altogether resolves itself into the manner of 
propagating the Faith. 

Yet still it may be disputed, Who it is that becomes 
answerable for the disorders occasioned by this mw 
mode or method of propagating Religion? Is it Mr. 
J. Wesley, or is it his Adversaries? lie, I make no 
question, will exculpate himself by the direction of 
St. Paul to Timothy to preach the word, in season, 
and out of season. Which implies, he thinks, that the 
manner can never be amiss, or made chargeable with 
blame. 

But he would infer more from the Text than it will 
bear; and misapply it, into the bargain. This direc 
tion relates to time only, which is but one of the many 
circumstances attending the manner of preaching ; and 
that one, in which the abuse is least material. The 
application (as we say) is no less faulty. The direc 
tion is confined to the state of things then existing; 
when the suffering Church had so few opportunities 
to preach the word, that all, whether seasonable or 
unseasonable, were with reason to be laid hold on. 
When the Church was once established, and Jived and 
seasonable times were appointed for holy offices, then 
(as every one may see) to fly to the unseasonable would 
be factious, and a breach of the discipline of that 
Church, of which the transgressor professed himself a 
member. To judge, therefore, of the integrity of Mr. 
J. Wesley s conduct, we must turn from the directions 
which St. Paul givesjfcr his oicn times, to those which 
St. James gives for all times 



Chap. IX.] OF GRACE. 355 

C II A P. IX. 

AND this leads us on, in our Inquiry. The 
Wisdom from above (says this Apostle) isjirst pure, 
then PEACEABLE. To be PEACEABLE is a leading 
quality in its general Character. A Choir of Angels 
ushered in the Advent of the Son of God, with peace, 
good it-ill towards men *. And He himself, on his 
departure from us, bequeathed it to us, as his dearest 
legacy : Peace I leave with you ; my peace I give 
unto you f. Now that which the FATHER proclaimed, 
which the Sox bestowed, must needs be of the office 
of the HOLY GHOST to maintain. Whatever form 
(f godliness, therefore, hath not this Characteristic 
mark, can never reasonably be deemed of heavenly 
extraction. 

That the propagation of Methodism hath occasioned 
many and great violations of peace, Mr. Wesley hath 
amply shewn in the journalary history of his Adven 
tures. 

Hut as in all contests between party and party, the 
blame is reciprocally thrown upon one another ; before 
we come more directly to adjust the share which may 
be fairly cast upon Methodism, it may be useful pre 
viously to inquire into that temper which makes for 
peace ; for we may be reasonably well assured, that 
the fault lieth not in that quarter where such a temper 
is found. Now our blessed Redeemer, who so ear 
nestly recommends his peace to us, hath given us 
directions how to preserve it : Be ye therefore u-ise 
PRUDENT] as Serpents, and harmless as 
J. 

Luke ii. 14. f John xiv. 27. 

t Mutt. x. i>>. So again, Who is that faithful and tow \^^i^ t 
Si-rcant? Matt. xxiv. 45. 

A A :> And 



J5$ THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

And he, who gave his Followers no precept, re 
garding lite and manners, which he did not eminently 
recommend by his own example, was the most per 
fect pattern of innocence, under the direction of PRU 
DENCE; as appears in his dextrous evasions to captious 
questions of the Jewish Leaders, who wanted matter 
to inflame the people against him ; in his avoiding the 
People when thus inflamed ; and, above all, in his de 
clining an untimely promulgation of his Messiah-Cha 
racter \ which would either have occasioned civil com 
motions, or have endangered his life before he had 
completed his Ministry. The first instance of this 
consummate prudence, is too important not to be more 
particularly explained. if There came to him (says 
" St. Mark) the Chief Priests and Scribes, and the 
" Elders, and say unto him, I]y what authority dost 
" thou these things ? and who gave thce this authority ? 
" And Jesus answered and said unto them, I will also 
" ask of you one question, and answer me, and I will 
" tell you by what authority I do these things. The 
11 baptism of John, was it from Heaven, or of Men? 
" answer me. And they reasoned \\ith themselves, 
< saying, If we shall say, From heaven ; he will say, 
" Why then did ye not believe him? But if we shall 
" say, Of men ; they feared the People : For all 
" men counted John, that he was a Prophet indeed : 
." And they answered and said unto Jesus, We can- 
" not tell. And Jesus answering, saith unto them, 
" Neither do I tell you, by what authority I do these 
" things V 

A direct answer to this question, apparently reason 
able, and urged by those who had authority to demand 
it, must have immaturely revealed what the destined 
Ministry of Jesus made necessary to be kept secret. 

* Chap. xi. 27, Sf sc<] % 

And 



Chap. IX.] OF GRACE. 3: , 7 

And yet, to evade the question, in such a manner as 
was sufficient to satisfy Authority, needed all thut divine 
prudence with which the Author of our Salvation was 
endowed, lie therefore replies, " first, answer me 
this question concerning John." The question was 
reasonable, considered in the view of an argument ad 
iwnuncw , it was reasonable, from the force it had in 
it-elf: For if it should appear, that that question had 
not been determined in the ease of John, it was evi 
dent trom their oun conduct, that the jurisdiction of 
the Sanhedrim was not violated by any man s declining 
to answer one of the same import. Further, the ques 
tion was reasonable and proper in itself. John public 
ly professed himself the forerunner of Jesus: So that 
it it were necessary for the Sanhedrim to come at the 
true knowledge of the general Case, they should have 
begun with John. This, the natural order of a judicial 
proceeding required. Nor would the Chief Priests have 
been backward to answer it, in either view. But here 
lay the difficulty ; the People were of one opinion con 
cerning John, and the Sanhedrim of another. This 

embarras silenced them. And in our Saviour s takin" 

t> 

advantage of that circumstance consists the divine dex 
terity of his exemplary prudence. Neither do 1 teli 
you (says he) by ichat authority I do thexe thing*. 
As much as to say, " Both on my principles and on 
your own, a previous question is first to be resolved, 
namely, concerning the baptism of John. When you 
have answered this, then comes my time to answer 
yours: But till then, you have no ri^ht to insist upon 
an answer." Such instances of Prudence, and so 
divinely managed, made St. Paul, where hi his Epistle 
to the Kphesians he distinguishes (in the twofold Cha 
racter of the blessed Jesus) between his office of 
from Sin, and Preacher of Righteousness, 
A A 3 express 



358 THE DOC T R 1 N E [Book II. 

express his latter office in these emphatic words, lit 
hath abounded towards us in all wisdom and P itu r> E N c E*, 
c-op/a xj f^ovAr. Which, as appears by what follows, 
the Apostle makes to consist in his Master s suiting 
and adapting the various Revelations of his Will to the 
peculiar seasons and occasions when the knowledge of 
it was become useful to the furtherance of the Faith. 
Having (says St. Paul) made known unto us the Mys 
tery of his will, according to his good pleasure, which 
he haih purposed in himself: that in the dispensation 
of the fulness of time, he miglit gather together in 
one, all things in Christ, $c. By which the Apostle 
seems principally to have in mind that obscure and 
backward intimation, which, for some time, kept hid 
from his Disciples this mystery oj Jus will\ the usual 
title given by the sacred Writers. to the calling in of the 
Gentiles into the Church of Christ. The prudence of 
which conduct is obvious. The Gospel was to be first 
offered to the Jews. But their reception of it was so 
unkind, that, had the Apostles been then acquainted 
with this Mysfety, they had been tempted to turn to 
the Gentiles, before the mission to the Jews had 
been fairly completed. When that was accomplished, 
the mystery was revealed, in all its splendor, to 
St. Peter. 

On the whole, therefore, we see, that THE PEACE 
FUL CHARACTER is THAT, WHERE INNOCENCE is 
UNDER THE DIRECTION OE PRUDENCE. Emancipated 
from this direction, Innocence becomes a prey both to 
itself and to others ; and is, either actively or passively, 
the perpetual source of Discord. 

Let us see, now, the regard our new Missionaries 
profess to pay to this precept and example of their 
Master. II u .MAN PRUDENCE has, somehow or other, 

* Chap. i. 8. 

SO 



Chap. IX.] OF OR A C K. 359 

so highly offended Mr. .1. Wesley, that he scruples not 
to call it, the MYS-J FRY OF IXIQLITY and the OFF- 
SPRINT. OF HELL " Ihelieve (says he) it pleased 
" Ood to bless the first Sermon most, because it gave 
* ( most offence, being indeed an open defiance of that 
" mystery of inifjiiity which the World calls Puu- 
" DF.VCI-: *." As he here informs us, Who gave it that 
Name, one might be apt to suppose he meant, the 
Pntd&tce of the unjust Sitetiwri/, which is indeed the 
mystery of Iniquity, did not he himself forbid us to 
understand it in this sense, by fairly telling us that he 
meant, what the World calls CHRISTIAN Prudence. 
And as bad as the World is, I think it never qualified 
the prudence of the unjust Steward with that attribute. 
" Ood, deliver me, and all that seek him in sin- 
" cerity, from what the World calls CHRISTIAX Puu- 
" DKXCE I ." And again, to a friend who approved 
not of \\\* field-preaching, " I fear that offspring 
"of Hell, worldly or mystic IMIUDFXCF, hath drawn 
" you away from the simplicity of the Gospel ;[;." If 
his aversion to Prudence be thus great, his enmity to 
those, amongst whom it is usually found, can scarce be 
thought le.-s, from the hard words he gives whenever 
he speaks of them " Mrs. Baddilcy (says he) desired 
" me to go up to her Son, who had been out of order 
;t for some days. For a year or two he was a pattern 
" to all the family, till he began to converse more 
" with GOOD SORT OF MEN . He then grew cooler 
" and cooler in the ways of God, and in a few months 
" quitted the Society . "It is absolutely needful 
" for such a one as me to follow the wise advice of 

* Journ. from Fe >. l, 1737-8, to his return from Germany, p. 12, 

f Journ. from Aug. 12, 1738, to Nov. i, 1739, p. 13. 

t Ibid. pp. 56, 57- 

Jouru. from Nov. 25, 1746, to July -20, 1750, p. 31. 

A A 4 Mr, 






360 THE D O C T R I N E [Took II. 

" Mr. Herbert. And this, I bless God, I can, iri 
" some measure, do, while I avoid that BANE OF 
" ALL RELIGION, the Company of GOOD SORT ov 
* MEX, as they are called, Persons who have a liking 
" to, but no SENSE of, Religion;" [i.e. no ecstatic 
feelings or the pains of the new birth, c.] " Rut 
" these insensibly undermine all my resolution, and 
" steal away what little ZEAL I have * ;" i. e. persuade 
him to be peaceable. 

And again, speaking of one of his Backsliders, he 
says " but indulging himself in HARMLESS COM 
PANY he firbt made shipwreck of his ZEAL, mid then 
of his FAITH -|~." In this I think he is right. The 
Zeal and the Faith of a FANATIC are such exact 
tallies to one another, that I have no conception how 
either can exist alone. They came into the World 
together to disturb Society and dishonour Christianity; 
and they must go out together before the One can 
regain its peace, or the other its dignity. 

On the whole, we find that Mr. J. Wesley is, by 
his own confession, entirely destitute of that temper 
$S which makes for peace : If therefore his preaching be 
attended with tumults and disorders, we cannot but 
ascribe it to the want of that quality, which the 
Founders of our holy Religion made essential to the 
successful propagation of the G&Sfkl of Peace > namely, 
PRUDENCE. It is true, Mr. Wesley, as we have 
seen, throws the whole fault of these tumults on the 
DEVIL; and this maybe allowed him in the sense 
that every paltry Pilferer and Sabbath- breaker is 
used to do. But if we seek for the more immediate 

* Journ. from Aug. 12, 1738, to Nov. j, 1739, p. 31. 
t Journ. from his embarking for Georgia, to his return to 
London, p. 41, 

cause, 



Chap. IX.j OF GRACE. 361 

cause, we shall find it much nearer hand. The 
Roman Satirist pretended, 

- Nullum Ximie-n abcst, si sit PRUDEX-TM. 

} There PKL IU:\CK governs, no (rod is minting to 
keep the world In order. We may say, \vith more so 
briety and truth, that where IM I KUDENCK takes the 
lead, there needs no Devil to throw it into confusion. 
What, for instance, more strongly tends to tumult and 
disorder, than for One who professes to propagate 
only the plain old fketigion of the Church of England, 
to set at nought its established Discipline, by invading 
the province of the parochial Minister; by assembling 
in undue places and at unlit times ; by speaking ceil 
(if Dignities, in scurrilous invectives against the Go 
vernors and Pastors of the national Church? Insolences 
of tiiis nature provoke warm and ill-instructed men to 
demand justice on the offenders: Which not being at 
hand (as the interests of Society will not, always, per 
mit the Magistrate to enforce it, where the insults on 
his office are covered \\iih the pretences of Religion), 
Particulars are but too apt to seek that in a tumultuary 
and criminal way, which all the providence of Govern 
ment, and all the equity of Law, are but barely sutii- 
cient to adjust, with aich discretion, as, that while 
the dignity of the State is vindicated, the rights of 
Religion are not infringed. 

Nor will that fanatic Apology, which is ever at 
hand, be any excuse for them in the commission of 
their disorders; namely, u That the violation of peace, 
among* t men serves to advance the peace o/ God; 
our blessed Ma-t-r having himself declared, that he. 
;tv/.v not come to send Peace on earth, hat a sirord" 
Now the same Spirit which disposes them to apply to 
their own case all those declarations concerning the 

first 



362 THE DOC T R 1 N E [Book II. 

first extraordinary state of the Gospel, hinders them 
from seeing, that these words of Jesus respect only 
the accidental and transient struggle of the then ex 
piring Powers of darkness; but that the heavenly 
Proclamation of peace toward? men, declares the 
genuine and constant fruits of Gofs good-will to his 
Creatures : that thejirst only predicted the early for 
tunes of a suffering Church ; and that the of her 
described the essential nature, the eternal genius, of 
an all-beneficent Religion. But Enthusiasts, hurried 
on by the fervours of an inflamed fancy, lose sight of 
a Christian land, and a believing Magistrate ; and 
have nothing before their eyes but a Country of Pagans 
and Idolaters, with the Princes of this world risen up 
to suppress and persecute the Il r ord of life. Under 
these delusions, it is no wonder that they despise 
order, insult Government, and set their Rulers at 
defiance. 

But PEACE is the cure of FANATICISM, as Fana- 
tic/.sm is the bane of Peace. Sectaries must either 
kick or be kicked. They must either persecute, or 
they must provoke persecution. To bo in this turbu 
lent state, is living in their proper element. 

As every Libertine aspires to be on the laughing 
side, so every Zealot would fain be on the pcr&cvtctvig. 
But Zealots, as well as other Adventurers, must take 
their chance in this world, whatsoever security they 
have made for the other. We see METHODISM, at 
present, under a well-established watchful Govern 
ment, where it is obliged to wear a less audacious 
look. To know its true character, and native dispo 
sition, we should see it in all its fortunes. And this 
our own Country, productive of every strange thing, 
hath given us ample means to contemplate. For 
They, who now go under the name of METHODISTS, 
20 were, 



Chap. IX.] O F G R A C E. 

were, in the days of our Forefathers, called PRECI 
SIANS; terms of their own devising, and (as the fruits 
of the same spirit) nearly synonymous, importing that 
the bearers of them had carefully squared out their 
Religion by line and level. The elder Methodism, on 
its first appearance, put on the same sutl ering exterior, 
which we see the younger Brother wear at present. 
During the firm administration of Elizabeth it disguised, 
and but barely disguised, its native ferocity, in a feigned 
submission ; alter having invited persecution with 
the air of a persecutor. Those times, we may be 
sure, would pot suiih* it to wait long for what it 
wanted. And then, as a precious Metal, which had 
undergone its trial in the lire, and left all its dross 
behind, the Sect, with great propriety, changed its 
name, from PUKCISIAX to PL* HIT AN. But in the 
weak and distracted times of Charles the First, it 
ventured to throw off the mask; and, under the name 
of INDJ;I>KMM.XT, became the chief Agent of all the 
dreadful disorders which terminated that unhappy 
reign. For IXDKPE.YDENCV was a name as well 
suited to the weakness of that Government, which it 
defied and overturned, as METHODISM is to the 
strength of This, of which it stands in awe. Nor is 
this Pedigree, which makes Methodism of the younger 
House to Independem-y, invented, like heraldic fictions, 
to ennoble my subject. Whoever reads the large ac 
counts of the Spiritual Mute, of the Regicides while 
under condemnation (written and published, at that 
time, by their friends, to make them pass, with the 
People, for Saints and iVIarlyrs), and compares them 
with the circumstantial Journals of the Mcthodisti, 
will find so exact a conformity in the frenzy of senti 
ment, and even in the cant of expression, upon the 
subjects of Faith, Grace, Redemption. Regeneration, 

Justification, 



364 THE D O C T 11 1 N E [Book II. 

Justiiication, &c. as may fully satisfy him, that they 
are both of the same Stock ; and ready, on a return 
of the like kindly season, to produce the same fruits. 
All the difference, which distance of times and variety 
of circumstances have effected, is only this : The 
Metkodad is now, an Apostolic Independent ; and the 
Independent was then, a Mahometan Methodist. 

Indeed, it hath been Mr. J. Wesley s mishap, with 
every other requisite of a skilful Leader, to fall upon 
times very unpropitious to the fortunes of a new Sect. 

He found himself in a Government whose equity 
abhorred Persecution for Religion ; arwl whose firm 
ness, on the other hand, would not suffer its princi 
ples of Toleration to be abused, to the disturbance of 
Society. Here was little room for the exertion of that 
quality by which a Sectary may be properly said to 
exist, namely, ZEAL active or passive. He wanted 
to be persecuted ; but Persecution would not come at 
his call. Yet, it must be owned, he used every extra 
ordinary method to provoke it : The time was now 
past, when it could be said of this Demon, as of the 
less mischievous ones of old, " Vocatus, aut non vo- 
ctitus, audit." The advantages of persecution to a 
new Sect, Mr. J. Wesley is not at all shy in con 
fessing " About one, I preached at Holton, where 
44 likewise all is now calm, after a violent storm of 
" several weeks, wherein many were beaten and 
" wounded, and outraged various ways; but NONE 
" MOVED from their stcd fast ness. In the evening, I 
" preached at Annley, to many icho want a storm, 
" being quite UXXKRVED by constant Sunshine *. It 
is the same conscious want which makes him complain 
of ill treatment; and yet be dissatisfied with good 
k We came to St. Ives before morning prayers, and 

* Jouin. from Nov. -25, 1740, to July so, 1750, p. 88. 

walked 



< t i;li >. IX.] OF GRACE. 365 

" walked to Church without so much as one hnzxn. 
" How strangely has one year changed the scene in 
" (Cornwall ! This is now a peaceable, nay honour- 
" able station. They give us good worrls in almost 
" every place. What hare ice done, that the World 
" should be so civil to M.V * ? " 

Is not this the language of a man whom nothing 
can please, when he is defeated in a secret purpose, 
which he is ashamed to own? He languished, we see, 
for good WHOLESOME SEVERITIES. Many (as he. 
well expresses it) wanted a storm, being quite UN 
NERVED by constant Sunshine. To supply this want, 
which the Magistrate so cruelly denied, lie is forced 
to make the best of those mock persecutions, the 
Drums and Huzzas of the Rabble. And so blood v 
always are his ideas, by a constant meditation on this 
subject, that, speaking of the misnomers of the Grand 
Jury of Cork, in their presentment of his Brother and 
half a score more itinerant Preachers, as vagrants and 
persons of ill tame, &c. he thus expresses himself 
" The names (only most of them rhli&rabty jnatig&d 
and murdered) were designed for the names of eight 
Preachers t," &c. The future Martyrologfot whom 
favouring Destiny has appointed to collect together 
the Saints and Martyrs of this afflicted Church, will, 
if lie be wise, never suffer himself to be misled into a 
belief that this mingling and fo&rdering can refer to 
names; or indeed to any thing less than to an I risk 
Massacre, charitably disguised by our meek Apostle, 
under a figure, not to say a deformity of Speech. To 
give these Persecutions all the rtY/V/ in his power, he 
expatiates on every adventure with such circumstance, 

* Journ. from Nov. 25, 1746, to July so, I7 ,o, p. : ;i. 
f Jtt irn. from July *o. 1749, to Oct. 30, 1751, p. 4. 

that 



366 THE DOCTRINE [Book IT. 

that there is hardly a turnip-top thus sacrilegiously 
employed, which has not had the honour of being re 
corded, l&it this is for Posterity : Something more 
was to be done for the sake of the unnerved Brethren. 
This small pittance of persecution, poor as it is, must 
be turned to use while time served, lest, like a flame 
of straw, it should go out as soon as it was put into 
a blaze. He therefore contrives to keep persecution 
alive by prosecuting his Persecutors : And, to make 
his revenge the sweeter, lie does it on the Toleration 
Act ; the Law which does him so much mischief, in 
depriving him of a real Persecution. This he notably 
turns against itself, and makes an Instrument to sup 
port and keep up a shadowy Persecution, in the Shouts 
and Revels of the Mob. 

Of this contrivance, and of the success of this con 
trivance, he has given us many curious examples in 
his Journals. Abundantly sufficient to evince, that 
though he who persecutes, breaks the Peace, yet as 
he is but the tool and Instrument of him who invites 
and provokes persecution the crime at length comes 
home to him who set the Rioter on work. 



CHAP. X. 
T II E next mark of celestial Wisdom is, its being 

GENTLE, AND EASY TO BE INTREATED. That is, 

neither a rigid reprover of the indifferent manners of 
others, nor obstinately tenacious of its own : but, as 
far as Truth and Honesty will permit, compliant and 
even obsequious to all men. The great Apostle of 
the Gentiles fully approves his pretensions to this 



Chap. X.] OF GRACE. 3( ; 7 

Wisdom, in the account he gives of his conduct, /// 
becoming ail things to all Men, that he wight gain 
some*. For the truth ofuhich, he appeals to those 
who were host acquainted with his lite and conversa 
tion. But amongst our modern Apostles the Scene is 
shitted. We iind them severe condemners of those 
innocent manners of their fellow-citizens, uhich they 
themselves have abstained from, on pretence of their 
being less profitable and edifying, or, perhaps, ob 
structive of that perfection which they pretend to aim 
at. Nor are they less severe exactors of conformity 
to their own observances. 

They tell us what we are to think of them, in the 
very appellation they assume. For METHODISM (as 
we have said) implies a set of manners, marked out by 
the rule and compass ; and, w hen made a name of 
distinction, it declares those manners are to he reli 
giously and invariably observed, as the sacred badge* 
of the Brotherhood. Hence Air. J. Wesley in a letter 
to the Church of God at Herrnhuth in i T pper Lusatta, 
having reproved them for teaching, " that it does 
" imply Liberty to conform to the world, by talking 
6 on useless, if not trifling subjects, and by joining in 
worldly diversions, in order to do goodl" they jus 
tify themselves by saying, " We believe it much better 
* to discourse out of the newspapers, th.in to chatter 
" about holy things to no purpose." To which he 
replies, " Perhaps so. But what is this to the point - 
" I believe both one and the other to be useless, and 
" therefore A\ ABOAUXATIOX TO THE LORD-)." 
Nay, he pushed this matter so tar, as to come to :t 
solemn resolution, NKVKR TO LALCJH : and, toward 
himself against the approaches of this pultry iniinnity, 

* i Cor. ix. 22. 

t Journ. froiu Nov. i, 1709, to Sept. 3, 1741, p. 1,3. 



THE DOCTRINE ok IE 

nectr to freak a tittfe of vorldiy : _ A IK! cer- 
toiolv, he who carries his dissockibility to this extreme, 
is in" no danger of bcv _ lflr ixv . He 

iras now fit company onry fur the I whom. 

as we have seen, he had a great deal to tru 
indeed. not for him neither, till the more sociable 
Fiend had a little relaxed his muscles : for the tii>t 
trick Satan plavcd him. ar^r they pvw acquainted, 
-MS, as he himself toils us to make him burst out 
k*0 *n mufodcratc fit of Laughter *. But he was 
ready i* tear hhaself to piece* for iiis frailty. 

OnrApost! .LEX tss may, by this time, be 

.it Hut he saves us the trouble. AVe 
leam it foUy ii. C PMHt n^s of his Adver 

saries. He met with one of the^e ii) a \ioknit storai 
at Sea. Yet the common danyr of tins dreadfid 
hour conM not abate the more violent tempest in his 
annd _ For who should be thcix lagi he) but the 
" taraoos Mr. Gr - of Carnarvonshire. A clumip, 
44 oven;rown, barchaced man ; v hose counien:ince I 
could only compare to that (wh:- in Drury- 

" Lane, thirty years aso of oue of ti^e Rqfam in 
" Macbeth .- - 1 walked over to Eg- 

* Imm. where Mr. - I one of the most 

miserable sermons I ever Ircard : - > full of 

dull, senseless, improbable lies of those he coin- 
" phmentv :ltleofi * : At 

we were saluted, as usual with a Huzza. 
" and a few stones cr pieces of dirt : " Yet fur want 
of a better, he has dignified even this with the name 
of a P^ccut wn. " The Persecution k ^ he" x 

tt was owing in great measure to the in 



* See p. 3-24 of this Disco- 

t Joont. from July 20, 1740, to Oct. 30, 1751, p. 51. 

: j-wn.irwaSept-s, 

" labours 



Ciap. X.] OF GR 

labours of Mr. / n d Mr. Simmons; ( 

f: f - :i -*d ia everlasting remembrance 

c; for their unwearied endeavours to destroy Heresy. 

: mea pagina pc 

" ^ s s exiinet a?vo *." 

1 1 or- V; leils os t without .. that it is his : 

purpose-, to gibbet up of these his i 

PC ^ing Infamy: while, by the 

most unregenerate ma ice in the worid, he dips his 
curves in the gaii of irosy ; and, that they may strike 
the deeper, fletches them with a profane classical 
Parody. 

Yet :jaa who sav r . - ; God forbid that 

" I should RAIL, at a Turk, Indel, or I I 

" would point out their Errors, aiid I i o the. 

" Spiiur OF M ^PIEJT -. 

nirn, tiat he bk A for his goodc 

in di _ tations to fall oa this fide- which, 

though it may be called his blind 1^ (as he alw 
win injuries soin^tiaies, indeed, to take the 

bett ije assures L5. is iiot his ircak side 

A at the goodness of God. 
e most assaulted on the irtak side of thdt- 
me it .. oUjcnrke. If I 

jgth at ail, JT is ix FORG.VIXG i.v- 
* ; J - very side ana I a-saulted 

" more :r_qnentjy tiiin any other J." By which, w 
uncommon .he would insinuate, that though 

his per. abound, yet i. _o*Mew, in: 

Spirit (f meekness, does muca m-jre abound. 

?aol an J St. J nines may be reconciied. fiat 

Joan. - -. N . ]-, 17^6, p. 2^ 

f Joam. fror ^, to Sep: -, 

: trra. frrat Jmty *>, 175*, to Oct. , 1754, p. ,9. 

VOL. VLI. B B 



370 T H E I) OC T II I X E [Book IT. 

he is a bold man who will undertake to reconcile St. 
Paul and Mr. Wesley. The Reader, perhaps, will 
he hetter employed in turning his attention upon an 
cient and modern SAINTSHIP, at large: where, in one 
general view, he will sec God s grace in the First, 
and, in the Second, Mans nature severally asserting 
their Rights throughout the whole progress. The ge 
nial Spirit of God could breathe nothing but the balm 
of gentleness ami ea.se. The pestilent heat of Fanati 
cism raises an inflammation and a tumour in the mind, 
whose Symptoms are an obdurate rigour, and impa 
tience under the probe. The Heaven-struck Heart is 
affected like the purer metals, which easily soften, and 
ryn speedily at the touch of the etherial Hay. But 
the Fanatic Spirit, self-heated, by its own fiery nature, 
retains the property of its congenial earth, which grows 
harder and more intractable as it burns. 



CHAP. xi. 

TO proceed. St. James, in his account of celestial 
Wisdom > advances from grace to grace. It is peace- 
rtble: this is its lowest quality. It \sGentle, and easy 
lu be int rented: this is a further advance in its Cha 
racter. The first only implies the not giving umbrage 
fir otiencc to our Brother; but the second declares a 
readiness to consult his pleasure and convenience. 
The Apostle s next recommendation of this Wisdom 
rises siill higher: it is, he. says, FULL OF MKKCY 
AX 10 <"jooi) FT: r ITS. It would have been a poor ac 
count of the JHsiJom from above, that it amounted 
only to an obsequious ease and gertflzness of Manners : 
a disposition of heart little more than the shadow or 

out- 



Chap. XI.] OF GRACE- 371 

outline of Benevolence, that harmony of the affections, 
which the Christian Faith calls CHARITY; and which 
the Apnstle, by a beautiful periphrasis, terms, the 
be iinj lull <>f mercy (Old food fruits* 

Lc i us enquire then into the MERCY and GOOD 
FRUITS of modern Saintship. The mercy of the 
Sufferer is jorg rcencss ; the mercy of the Jnflicter is 
forbearance. 

Oi Air. Wesley s forgiveness under sufferings, we 
have seen many examples in the Language he be 
stows on his Opposcrs; who pass with him under no 
other title than that of the Devil s Servants and the 
DeviCs Children: of his forbearance, when completely 
armed with the Vengeance of Heaven, we have seen 
many more, in his dispatching the Principal of these 
Children of the Devil, without mercy, to their Father. 
For one sure mark of the hypochondriac spirit under a 
Fanatic ferment, is the readiness to dispense, and the 
rashness to fling about, the exterminating Judgments 
of God : and when an Enthusiast calls down fire from 
Heaven, the least of his concert! is 7 his being heard. 
So that every disaster, befallen his Opposers, is con 
sidered by him as God s ozcmm* the Cause, and he 
would esteem it ingratitude to hib Master to give it 
any other name UUIL that of a JUDGMENT; just as 
Witches, when a misuiief happens to those whom they 
have often cursed, ascribe it to the Avenger of their, 
quarrels, their trusty Coadjutor the Devil. For under 
the agitations of wrath and revenge, titie fruits of this 
Spirit are much the suvne, whetlxjr Heaven or Hell 
be called* to their assistance. Do I wrong these Men ? 
See what has been said above of this matter * : and 
if that does not suffice, turn again to Mr. J. Wesley s 
Journals. " Wednesday 15. I \?ent to Bedlam at 

* Pp- 337339- 

ii u 2 " the 



372 THE DOCTRINE [Book IT. 

* the repeated request of Mr. S. who Lad been con- 
:c fined there above two years. This was the Person^ 
" who, while lie was Sjteaki&g against my Brother 
" and uie, to the Society at Kingswood, was in a 
moment struck nrchig wind. But, it seems, God is at 
" Icjig /h intrc-itcd for him, am? lias restored hku to a 

" sound mind *." Again, " One J n- II n, 

" a weaver- zealous for the Church, and against Dis- 
" senters of every denomination He laboured much 
lt to convince his acquaintance that the strange Jit ^ 
^ into u hieli people at the Societies fell, was a dclu- 
u sion of the Devil. We were going home when one 

;t met us in the street, and informed us, That J n 

" II n was fallen rav nig mud. Between one and 

a two, I came in and found him on the floor, the 
" room being full o ]xx>ple,. whom his wife would 
** have kept out, but lie cried aloud, No, let the 
^ world see the g ;Vtf Judgment of God., Two or three 
l> men were holding him as well as they ecu hi. He 
4> immediately iked his eyes upon me, and stretching 
u out iiis hands, cried, Oh! this is he who, I said, 
" was a deceiver of the People. But Gcd has 
u overtaken- -me ( . " An<l agaiiK " I was inlbrurjd 
u of nn crip/lit providence. A poor wretch who was 
i:pre tlu; iast week, cursing, blaspheming, and la- 
* bousing with all his might to hinder the icurd of 
" Gvd, -iiad afterwards boasted to mai>y, that he would 
come -a^ain on Sunday, and no man should stop 
r * c his mouth then. But on Friday God Urid hix hand 
* ui)on him, and on Sunday he WHS buried;!;. I saw 
a poor man, ( (oNce joined with z/,v) \\\\(* waiited 
" rk)thing in this world, but the peace the world 

: - .Tourn. iVom Oct. -27, 1743, to Nov. 17, 1746, p. 3;). 
; .!our;i. iVonrAug 1-2, 1738, to Nov. i, 1739, j>. 44. 
J Jo-Jin. IVom Nov. i, 1739, to -Sept.. 3, 1741, pp. 59, <*> 

if pan not 



Chap. XI.] OF Gtt ACF, 373 

" cannot give. A day or two before, lit handed him- 
" ,9f//i but was tilt down before be was dead. Jle 
" has been crying out ever since, GW ;W/ A;/^ /,.< /// 
" because lie had left the Children of Cud*: Hut 
he is inexorable to all who apostatize" I buried 
:" the body of Lucy Godslmll alter pressing toward 
" the mark for more than two years She became 
" u eary ami faint f put her out of the barn! God 
" blessed this to her soul." But how? u She fell 
46 down on her knees, and delivered up her soul and 
" body into the bands of God. In the instant, the 
46 use of all her limbs was taken away, and she was 
" in a burning fever. She cried out on Satan was 
" in durknew was in light closed her eyes and 
" died I-"-" I was pressed to visit Nicholas Palmer,* 
* one who had separated from us, mid behaved with 
" a great bit tenter, till Cod laid his hand upon him. 
" lie had sent for me several times, saving he could 
" not die in peace till he had seen me. We wrestled 
" with God in his behalf His soul was comforted; 
" and a lew hours after quietly fell asleep ;(;." 

Their <;OOD FRUITS come next to be considered. 
Mr. J. Wesley s idea of true Religion doth not promise 
much. He saith, " It doth not consist in any or all 
* these three things, the living harmless using the 
" wcaus of Grace and doing much good. A man, 
f he says, may do all this, and yet have no true Jte/i- 
" gion a I all / 

Yet St. JA^IFS talks another language. Pure 
Religion (and, I suppose, /W/Y? and true difier only in 
sound) and andtjd-ed before God and the Father, in 

* Journ. from Oct. ^7, 1743, to Nov. 17, 1746, p. 91. 
| Journ. from Sept. 3, 1741, to Oct. 27, 1/43, i>. 71. 
; ll>id. p. 5. 
Jouru. iVom Nov. I, 1739, to Sept. 3, 1741, p. n, 1-2. 

J3 B 3 this, 



374 THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

this, to visit the fatherless and widows hi their affliction, 

and to keep himself unspotted from the World*. 

Now, what is visiting the fatherless and widows, 
but the doing -much good? And what is keeping ones 
self unspotted from the world, but using the means of 
Grace? In what a fearful taking, then, must Mr. 
Wesley s Zealots be, who, misled by the Bible, have 
so long mistaken true Religion ? The leabt it will do 
is to drive them to despair. But this is the very state 
in which their Master delights to take them up. And 
his assurance, that true Religion consists in God*s 
dwelling and reigning in the Soul )*, soon makes way 
fora happier madness : the Jaws of Hell begin to 
close, the Gates of Heaven to open. But* what the 
over-laboured imagination suffered, during the course 
of this operation, requires the hand of a Master to de 
scribe. I shall give it therefore in Mr. J. Wesley s own 
words : and as these his spiritual cures (which he 
reports with the exactness of an Hippocrates or a 
Sytlenhiim) are all the GOOD FRUITS he pretends to, 
he will not be displeased to have a few of the choicest 
of them set in a fair light. 

The condition of his audience, on his first operation 
upon them, is thus graphically described" I preached 
" in an open place, two or three miles from Newcastle, 
" The wind uas high and extremely sharp: but I saw 
none go away till I went. Yet I observed none 
" seemed to be much convinced; only STUXN D, AS 
* IF CUT IN THE HEAD J." This was in order. 
They were first to l>e stunned ; the Watchman, Rea^ 
son, was to be laid asleep before he could set fire to 
their Imaginations. But he brings them to their senses 
with a vengeance, the vengeance of the Devil, " I 

* James i. 27. f P. 11. utsup. 

\ Jpuii}. from Sept 3, 1741, to Get, a/, 1743, p. 8-2. 

felt 



Chap, XL] OF GRACE. 37.5 

" felt the FIRE or HELL already kindled in my breast 
" (says one), and all my body was in as inncli pain 
" as if I had been in a burning iiery furnace *." " I 
" was interrupted (says he) by the cries of one who 
" was pricked at the heart: One of those, I suppose, 
who had before been cut in the he, id: and having 
now got possession both of the head and heart, the 
game begins " Another person dropped down a 
" little boy near him was seized in the same manner. 
" A young man who stood behind fixed his eyes on him, 
" and sunk down himself as one dead. But soon 
" began to roar out and beat himself on the ground, 
" so that six men could scarcely hold him. Mean- 
" while many others began to cry out to the Saviour 
u of all, that he would come and help them, insomuch 
" that all the house, and indeed all the strcst for some 
" space, was in an uproar. I was called after supper 
" to one, who, feeling in herself such a Conviction as 
" she had never known before, had run out of the 
" Society in all haste, that .vAe wight not avpow her- 
" self. But the hand of God followed her still ]-, &c. 
This fear of c.rposiug herself, Mr. J. Wesley, we see, 
takes much amiss. He speaks with some resentment, 
t>ut more contempt, of her delicacy. Yet it seems 
hard that he would not suffer the young Woman to 
understand the nature of her o H feelings, and conse 
quently to be the best judge of the danger she was in, 
o\ ej lwhi" //<T.W//: ^ Forty or Fifty of those who 
u were scekins sulvatioi*, desired leave to spend the 
" night together iia the society room. Before ten, I 
" left them, and Jaid down/" For our Engineer had 
so ami>ly provided them with combustibles, and so 
iitly laid his train, that he knew they would take fire 

* Journ. from Sept- 3, 1741, to Oct. 27, 1743, p- $3- 

| Juurn. fryiii .> ! W*? to Nov. i, 1739, pp. 50^ 5A- 

ji j* 4 troii) 



376 THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

from their own collisions. He was not disappointed - 

" Between two and three in the morning he was 

" awaked, and desired to come down stairs. 1 imrne- 

" diately (says he) heard such a confused noise, as if 

" a number of men were all putting to the Sword. 

" It increased, when I came into the room, and began 

" to [>ray *," Sec. " Thence I went to a poor woman 

" who had been long in despair. I was glad to meet 

* with Mrs. R. there; the person mentioned in Mr. 

" Whitefield s Journal, w io alter three yem s madness 

" (so CALLED) was so deeply convinced of Sin jV &c. 

i " Another of Dr. Monro s patients came to desire 

" my advice; I found no reason to believe she had 

" been otherwise mcidtlmn every one is, who is deeply 

" convinced of Sin J." ""A middle-aged woman de- 

" sired me to return thanks for her to God ; who, as 

" many witnesses then present, testified, was, a day or 

" two before, really distracted, and, as such, tied down 

" in her bed. But upon prayer made for her, she was 

" instantly relieved, and restored to a sound mind." 

" / could not but be, under some concern with regard 

" to one or two persons, who were tormented in an 

e unaccountable manner, and seemed to be indeed 

" Lunatics, as well as sore vexed j|." Here, for the 

first time, Humanity seems to have recovered a little of 

its rights, amidst these scenes of horror. Mr. J. WES- 

J.EY himself confesses, he could not but be under some 

concern. But invigorated by the new Man, he soon 

shakes off the human pity of the old, and makes a joke 

even of the very Lunacy, he had pretended to lament, 

" Two or three who were at the Devanden (a high 

" hill two or three miles from Chepstow) are gone 

f .Jmirn. from Nov. i, 1739, to Sept. 3, 1741, pp. 51, 52. 
f Jcurn. from Aug. 1-2, 1738, to Nov. i, 1/39, p- 8- 
| Ibid. p. 83. Ibid. p. 4. || Ibid- p. 88. 

" quite 



Chap. XL] O F G R A C E. 377 

tk quite distracted, i. c. they mourn and refuse to be 
" comforted till they have Redemption *," &c. " I 
" desired one who had s- cn ulllictlon herself to go ami 

ic visit Mrs. G- in. Bed/am (put there by her hus- 

" band as a mad woman), where it pleased God 
" greatly to knit their hearts together, and with his 
" comforts to refresh their souls f ." " Amongst the 
" hearers was one, who some time before had been 
" deeply convinced of her ungodliness, insomuch that 
" she cried out day and night, Lord, save, or I perish! 
" All the neighbours agreeing th >t she was stark mud, 
" her husband put her into a Physician s hands, who 
" blooded her largely, and laid on several blisters. 
" But all this proving without success, she was in a 
.* shon, time judged to be incurable. When Airs. 
" Johnson came, she soon saw the nature of the dis- 
" ease, having herself gone through the same. She 
" ordered ail the medicines to be thrown away, and 
" exhorted the Patient to look unto Jcsu.f j." - 

And with this spiritual madness he is so enamoured, 
that he calls it, when at its height, A GLOIUOUS TIME, 
" I preached at \Veavers Hall. IT WAS A GLOiirous 
"TIME. Several dropped to the ground, as if struck 
<f with lightning ," &c. &c. And where this is want 
ing, though every other thing be to his wish, he is so 
dissatisfied, that it is as much as ever his submission tQ 
the divine Will can obtain of him, to let Cod do an 
aecwetli him good. " I saw none of that triumph of 
" Faith, which has been so COMMON in other places. 
" But the Believers go on calm and steady. LET GOD 

" DO AS SEEAIETII HIM GOOD ||." 

* Journ. from Aug. 12, 1738, to Nov. i, 1739, p. 90. 
f Journ. from Nov. i, 1739, to Sept. 3, 1741, p. 54. 
J Journ. from erit- ;j. 1741, to Ort. 27, 1743, p. 53. 
Ibid. p. 27. || Ibid- p. 78, 

But 



37$ THE DOCTRINE [Book 1 1. 

But though Mr. J. Wesley does so ably, in this new 
Trade of turning fools Into mad-men, yet his Craft s- 
master is eertainly one Mr. Wh y, of \vhoin Mr. 
Wesley tells this extraordinary tale. ** A poor woman 
** gave an account of what I think ought never to be 
" forgotten." Truly, I think so too " It was four 
" years, she said, since her Son, Peter Shaw, then 
" nineteen or twenty years old, by hearing a Sermon, 
" of Mr. Wh y, fell into great uneasiness. She 
<l thought he was ill, and would have sent for a Phy- 
* sician. But he said, No, no, send for Mr. Wh y. 
* c He -was sent for, and came ; and, after asking a few 
** questions, told her, The Boy is mad, get a Coach 

* c and carry him to Dr. M , use my name, I have 

"sent several such to him *." Who this Mr. Wh y 
is, or what he is, I know not. But, ^ve see, he sends 
his People to Monro, with the same unconcern in 
search of lost brains, that one would enquire of Sir 
J. Fielding for a lost portmanteau. 

Such are the exploits which Mr. J. Wesley calls, in 
the place last quoted, BIJ:SSIXGS FROM (ion; and 
which therefore we may well call the GOOD FRUITS 
of his Ministry; those by which St. James directs us 
to judue of his Mission. For what the Apostle calls 
good fruits , namelv, doing much good. Mr. J. Wcslev 

v"? / > C> C> ti 

plainly tells us, belong not to true Religion: What 
belongs not to true Religion, ho rightly deems super- 
iluous : And whatever is superfluous, he makes solemn 
resolutions to avoid f . 

* Journ. from Nov. i, 1759, to Sept. 3, 1741, p. 5<>. 
f Journ from Feb- i, 1737-8, tc hU return from 

P- J 3- 



Chap. XII.] OP GRACE. 379 



CHAP. XII. 

HITHERTO the Marks delivered by St. James, 
to judge of a pretended Missionary from Heaven, con 
sider him as urging his pretensions fairly and with good 
faith ; though possibly in a fanatic or enthusiastic way : 
But what follows WITHOUT PARTIALITY AND WITH 
OUT HYPOCRISY represents the pretender to such a 
character as capable of acting in a mask, and using 
the mere worldly arts of fraud and deceit. And this 
supposition is made with admirable judgment and 
knowledge of human Nature. 

EXTIIUSIASM, so indispensable a requisite in the 
successful leading of a Sect, must always be accom 
panied with craft and knavery. There is ti necessity 
for this odd combination; and the thing itself, as 
strange as it may seem, is very naturally to be ac 
counted for. 

A nicer cool -headed Projector, without any tincture 
of innate enthusiasm, can never succeed in his Designs, 
because such a one can never exhibit those surprising 
freaks, which a heated imagination, working on a dis- 
ordered, though, for this purpose:, Jitly framed temper 
of body, so speciously produces. For the spirits of the 
People, who are to be taken in, can never be allured, 
but by raising their udminitioii, and keeping up their 
confidence in an inspired Leader, besides, new doc 
trines and new ideas are never so readily received as 
when the Teacher of them is in earnest, and believes 
Himseff: lor then there is something so natural in his 
conduct as easily to conciliate belief; there is some 
thing so alluring, that it acts even like an Incantation. 

On the other hand, a mere Enthusiast, who, by 

urtue 



v 2 ^a 

*<>1A 



38o THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

virtue of this faculty, hath gone so far in his purpose 
as to raise the admiration, and to captivate the spirits, 
of the People, must here begin to fail, if lie be with 
out the other quality, sectarian Craft : For, \\\s fana 
ticism not being under the controul of his judgment, 
he will want the proper dexterity to apply the different 
views, tempers, and pursuits of the People, now in 
flamed and ready to become his Instruments, to the 
advancement of his Projects. 

Ikit when these two talents of Fraud mid Fanaticism 
unite to furnish out the Leader of a Sect, great will 
be the success of his undertakings. And when such a 
one feels the strength of this union, it is no wonder he 
should be ready to cry out with Mr. J. Wesley, Give 
me whereon to stand, and I will shake the whole earth*. 
For now the sallies of his Enthusiasm will be so cor 
rected by his Cunning, as to strengthen and confirm 
his supernatural pretences; and the cold and slow ad 
vances of a too cautious policy will be wanned and 
pushed forward by the force of his Fanaticism. His 
crqfl will enable him to elude the enquiries and objec 
tions of the more Rational ; and his Visions will irre 
coverably subdue all the warmer Noddles. In a word, 
they will mutually support and strengthen each other s 
force, and cover and repair each other s defects, St. 
Jerom seems to have had a true idea of this extraor- 
d mai y combination, Avhen he said, " Nullus potest 
" Hacresin struere, nisi qui ARDEXTIS INGENII est, 
" et habet DON A NATI,R.K ) ." Which may be thus 
paraphrased No Heretic will ever be able to raise a 
Sect, bat fa, in whose constitution Nature has enabled 
Frauu and Fanaticism to act in concert. 

Several things concur to facilitate this happy con- 

* See p. 329 of this Discourse- 
.t bee Div- Leg. Hook 111. 6. 

junction. 



Chap. XII.] OF GRACE. 381 

junction. An Enthusiast considers himself as an In 
strument employed by Providence to attain some great 
End, for the sake of which he was sent out. This 
makes him diligent in his work ; impatient under any 
lett or obstruction ; and attentive to every method for 
removing it. Persuaded of the necessity of the End, 
and of the divine Commission intrusted to the Instru 
ment, he begins to fancy that such a one, for the ob 
taining so great a purpose, is dispensed with, m break 
ing nay is authorized to break, the common Laws of 
Morality; which, in the cant of those times, when 
Fanaticism had its full play, was called the BEIXJJ 
ABOVE ORDINANCES. In the first application of these 
means, the People are the Dupes of their Leader : 
But the success being frequently far beyond even his 
own conception, he becomes, in his turn, the Dupe of 
himself; and begins in good earnest to believe that the 
trick which he played them, was indeed -not of his own 
contrivance, hut the inspired instigation of Heaven *. 
This \\iil explain an obscure passage of Tacitus, where? 
speaking of this sort of Character, in his oracular way, 
he says, FI \GUXT SIMUL CIIEDUXTQUE. -Let me 
add, that this seems to have been much the. case of 
OLIVER CROMWELL, from his first mounting into the 
Saddle and the Pulpit, to his last reveries on his 
death-bed f . 

Again, 

* That great observer of Nature^ CERVANTES, having made 
Simcho i^to save himself from the vexation of a sleeveless errand) 
palm upon his Master a supposititious Dulciiaea ; Whcp the Squire 
comes to relate this adventure to the Duchess, she extols his 
ingenuity so hi jjMv. tl at fie bfvjins to suspect himself to he trick -I 
into his own cutriv:in re ; and that the Inchanters had presented 
hint with a true Dulcineu in masque; :de, when he thought he was 
imposing ;iful.-;f one iurcf.iv ed on his Master. 

t Thurloc tells ITS, that the Protector, on his death-led, .fore 
told bis iccovery. u: mi inspiration from Hcavtu, Had it proved 

true, 



332 THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

Again, Enthusiasm is a kind of ebullition or critical 
ferment of the mind, which a vigorous nature some 
times works through, and by slow decrees is able to 
surmount. Hence the most successful Impostors, who 
have set out in all the blaze of Fanaticism, have com 
pleted their Schemes amidst the cool depths and 
stillness of Politics. Though this, in some degree, be 
common to them all, yet I know of none who exem 
plifies the case so fully as the famous IGNATIUS 
LOIOLA. This wonderful Person began his ecst antes 
in the mire, and finished his course in the direction 
and execution of Councils, which, even in his own 
life-time, were ready to ijve I<aw to Christendom. 
Mr. J. Wesley appears to have studied this great 
Master well: though, by a common practice of those 
who set up for themselves, he kicks away the steps 
by which lie mounted. " I rode (says he) to Oxford 
" in riding, I read over that surprising book, the Life 
" of IGNATIUS LOIOLA. Surely one of the greatest 
" men that ever was engaged in the support of a bad 
* cause. I u onder any man should judge him to be an 
"Enthusiast. No: but he knew the people with 
u whom he had to do. And setting out like Count 7. 
" with a FULL PEUSUAS.ION* that he might L.SK C,UILI-. 

U TO PROMOTE TIIK GLORY Ol- GoD *. % Now I 

desire to know, how any, but an ENTHUSIAST, could 
have & full persuasion, i.e. be persuaded, bona fide, 
that he might use guile to promote the glory of God? 
Or how any, but a KXAVJ:, could succeed in this 
persuasion? Cicero observes that the Eye., which sees 
all other things, sees not itself; This instance will shew 

it 

UUP, he had aumrd much hv obtaining to himself the useful 
Character of Prophet: and he lost nothing hy the convictiou of 
its falsehood. 

f Jouiu. fiom c ept. 3, 1741, to Oct. 27, 1743, p. $7. 



Chap. XII.] OF GRACE. 

it to be equally true, that the AftW^vhich plays such 
strange tricks, is often very inattentive to its own 
frame and operations. 

Modern SaintMp then being so subject to tlicse 
odd traverses, it is well for liorn SOCIF.TIKS that we 
have an unerring Rule whereon to estimate its Claim. 
For the Apostle having declared that the wistktmfrom 
alxrce is without PAKTIALITY and without livpo- 
CRISV ; if such qualities be found in those W!K> pre 
tend to derive all, immediately, from aboi-e, we need 
no further evidence of the imposture. And, now, 
having hitherto used this famed lleaxl of his Sect for 
an Example, it would be unkind to drop him here, 
and not suffer him to tinish, as lie began, his Aposto 
lical career. 

PARTIALITY consists in dispensing an unequal 
measure, in our transactions with Others : 

And HYPOCRISY in attempting to cover that une 
qual measure by prevarication and false colours. 

The Reader must have been very inattentive to 
what hath been produced from Mr. J. Wesley s JOUR 
NALS, not to have observed the many convincing 
marks of the writer s partiality and fit/pocriti/. The 
pas-lines have indeed been jjivcn to convict him of 
othrr fanatic qualities, equally inconsistent with the 
u isdom which is from abort", but many of them will, 
at the same time, serve to shew how ably he availed 
himself of these two political Accomplishments. 

We have seen in general, tliat his Followers are al 
ways the Childrtn of God; and his Opposers, th 
Children of the Dtrcil. But the iir^t being directed 
by inward feelings and the impulse of an inflamed 
fancy, and the other by the outward testimony of 
Scripture, interpreted by human reason, it is no gi 
wonder that Mr. J. Wesley, who saw them so much 

unlike, 



384 T HE DOC T R I N E [Book II. 

unlike, should marshal them under two different 
Leaders. But what shall we think, when \ve find 
Imn baying the worst of his Friends that his Enemies 
Iwe said of him, as soon as ever he sees them pre 
sume to play over his own pranks in any other Name? 
If they follow not him, they are Fanatics and Enthu 
siasts, how like soever they he in all other things to 
tl:eir ghostly Pattern. " I was with two persons 
" (says Mr. J. Wesley) who, I doubt, are properly 
" Enthusiasts. For first they think to attain the end 
" without the means, which is enthusiasm, properly 
" so called : again they think themselves inspired by 
" God, and arc not. But false imaginury inspiration 
" is enthusiasm. That theirs is only imaginary in- 
" spiration appears hence, it contradicts the Law and 
* the 3kstinio$y* $ These are wise words : but what 
do they amount to? Only to this, That these two 
Persons would not take oat their Patents of Inspira 
tion from liis Office; anil, therefore, he has adver 
tised them, for Counterfeits. However, thus much 
we i;-tin by them, that all modern pretences to In 
spiration are, by the acknowledgment of Mr. J. Wesley 
himself, to be tryed by the Laiv and the Testimony. 
lie cannot, then, surely, refuse to have his own pre 
tensions tried bciore that Judicature to which we have 
uppcaled him. 

.-. (j; , one of the holy, had told another 
?M C ">>, tiiat Mr. J. Wesley was a Papist, perhaps on 
account of the honour he does to auricular confusion, 
one. kind of which he recommends to his HANDS. 
Upon this Miss Cr- is anathematized. And we 
are told, that, in consequence, " she had lately bee* 
44 nrcin^ mad; that as such, she was tied dj\vn in 

* Journ. from Ai g. 13, 1738, to Nov. i 1*39 p. 23. 

" her 



Chap. XII.] F G R A C E. 383 

her bed *." Yet all these circumstances -of madiwss 
have, in the opinion of the ablest Physicians, befallen 
Mr. J. Wesley s favourite Saints; whom he has vin 
dicated from that Opprobrium ; he has laughed at the 
ignorance -of the faculty ; and declared those equivocal 
marks to be the constant Symptoms of the 



He pr-onoturces Sentence of Enthusiasm upon an 
other: And tells us, Wherefore, without any disguise, 
" Here (says lie) I took leave of a poor, ma(^, 
1 original Et&hMfist, W!K> had been scattering abroad 
" LIES in every quarter f." l]y which we find, that, 
even in Mr. J. Wesley s own opinion, Fanaticism and 
Kmrcery are very near neighbours. 

l I had much conversation with Mr. Simpson, an 

original Enthusiast, I desired him in the evening 

to give an exhortation He did so, and spoke many 

" good things, in a manner peculiar to himself. When 

" he had done, I summed up what he had said, 

" methodizing awd explaining it. O what pity is it 

" that this well-meaning man should ever speak witli- 

" out an Intcrj)rctor ;]:*" and that Mr. J. Wesley 

>hou!d not be he! 

In these two la^st passages, we are presented with 
two ()RJ<H\AL ENTHUSJASTS. Jmt how differently 
do -w-e find them treated ! The first is accused of -doing 
the work of the Devil, of spreading ties of his Master ; 
on which account his Master tufas his leave of him : 
a gentle expression, to signify, the thrusting him out, 
head and shoulders, from the Society of Saint* : The 
other likewise, whose; original enthusiasm i.s made to 
consist only in want of Method, or, to speak more 

* Journ. from Sept. 3, 1741, to Oct. 27, 1743, pp. 73, 74. 
f Jouru. from Oct. 27, 1743, to Nov. 17, 1746, p. 71. 
J I hid. p. pi. 

Voj- VJIt C c properly, 



3$6 THE: DOCTRINE [Book II. 

properly, want of Methodism, is only lamented, as 
having the ill lack to <sp.eak without . an.. Interpreter. 
That is, without having his doctrine regulated on the 
dictates of his Master. Bat the First set his Master 
at defiance : the Second spoke many good things^ . that 
is, he professed a doctrine agreeable to Mr. Wesley ; 
indeed, in a manner peculiar to himself, that is, not 
on Mr. Wesley s Authority, but his. own. Now, 
there were some hopes of Him; bat none at all of 
the other. Therefore though they are pronounced 
ORIGINAL ENTHUSIASTS alike, yet we must distin 
guish, and rate their Titles very differently. The first 
Original was of his original the Devil, a scattered 
abroad of lies in every quarter : The second was 
worth recovering. His Original Enthusiasm was a 
foundation, like Original Sin, to erect upon it a 
Bftbnurnent of Grace. 

.But the most genuine instance of enthusiasm, which, 
he tells us, he will give, and which, without doubt x 
he does give, with the. utmost reluctance, is the fol 
lowing. He preached at Tanfield- Leigh. " But so 
" dead, senseless^ unaffected a congregation (says he) 
<( have I scarce seen, except at Wickham. Whether 
" Gospel or Law, or English or Greek, seemed all 
" one to them." Yet he spoke-, he tells us, strong 
rough words. But why is want of sense put into this 
rough description of their unregenerate State ? He 
owns, that numbers of the Godly were without any. 
And why would he elicite sense from these Gentiles, 
when, upon their conversion, they were finally to be 
deprived of it, in ecs fades and new births ? However, 
as ungrateful as the Soil appeared, " Yet the seed 
" sown even there was not quite lost. For on Thurs- 
" day morning, between four and five, John Brown, 
" then of Tanfield- Leigh, was waked out of sheep by 
20 " the 



Chap. XII.] OF G I! A C E. 387 

" the voice th&t <raiseth the dead; and ever since he 

has been full of love *nd peace. and joy in the" Holy 
Ghost." But now see what comes of waking these 
sleepers. This same J~ I], who had received the 
Holy Ghost but at the latter end of November, be 
came so freakish by the beginning of December, that 
he even forced Mr. J. Wesley (for the honour of 
Methodism itself) to pronounce him. likewise a gcmiine 
Enthusiast, and to throw aside this precious Saint, as 
flawed by over-baking, amongst the useless rubbish 
of his Shop. 

" I was both surprised and grieved" here, Reader, 

thou mayest safely believe him " at a genuine in- 

stance of Enthusiasm. J B of Tanfield-Leicrh, 

c who had received a SENSE of the love of God a 

few days before, came riding through the town, 

" haltering and shouting [the inseparable symptoms 

of the new birth] " and driving all the People before 

him, telling them, God had told him he should be a 

" KING, and should tread all his enemies under his 

" feet *." 

Now this being the only FRUIT of the seed sown in 
this place, had it not been better to have let these 
honest people alone? who appear amiable, even through 
the sarcastic abuse he so liberally pours over them. 
" At Wickham, I spoke strong rough words : but I 
" did not perceive that any regarded what was spoken; 
" The People indeed were exceeding quiet, and the 
" cold kept them from falling asleep \ till> before two, 
" I left them very well satisfied with the Preacher 
" and with themselves^" And why should they not! 
Why is this poor satisfaction, in themselves, which 
they had so liberally expressed towards him, be grudged 

* Journ. from Sept, 3, 1741, to Oct. 27, 1743, p. 79. 
t Ibitl. p. 78. 

c c 2 them? 



3 88 THE DOCTRINE [Book I L 

them? A reasonable Man desires no niore, than that 
his friends he satisfied with him ; he does not expect, 
nay, he would he sorry, to find them dissatisfied with 
themselves. But such an equality of mind and mea 
sure, as in the good people of Wickham, is destructive 
of all the schemes of a Fanatic Leader: Who 
must find, or make, a People desperate, and ready 
to hang themselves, before they can be prepared 
and rightly tempered for the sacred Mold of 
Methodism. 

We shall end, where every Fanatic Leader ends 
with his HYPOCRISY. And if evasion and prevarica 
tion) in the most essential points of his Ministry, may 
be called by that name, I cannot see hq\v Mr. J. 
Wesley will escape from having this concluding mark 
of imposture fixed upon him, 

I. We have wearied ourselves and Readers, in re* 
counting the numberless MIRACLES by which He and 
his affairs have been supported, amidst a cloud of 
Witnesses well disposed to magnify the scene. Yet, 
after all this, with a WORLDLY PRUDENCE which one 
would not expect in a man who calls it the mystery 
vf Iniquity > bethinks fit to secure himself a retreat, 
in case all these wonders should become prohlematical. 
For after having heaped them upon one another, 
Olympus-high, throughout nine copious Journals, he 
sneaks away under the cover of a puny Wonder, and 
leaves the defence of all his Giant-miracles in the 
lurch ! " About five (says he) I began, near the Keel- 
" man s Hospital, many thousands standing round, or 
" sitting on the Grass. The wind was high just be- 
M fore ; but scarce a breath was felt, all the time we 
" assembled before God. I praise God for this also, 
5* Is IT ENTHUSIASM TO SJEJ: GOD IN EVERY 

4< BENEJIT 



Chap. XII.] OF GRACE. 389 

" BENEFIT which we receive*?" Certainly it is not. 
The Enthusiasm consists in believing those benefits 
to be miraculously conferred by a change in the esta 
blished order of Nature. This is the Enthusiasm 
ivith which he is charged ; and this Charge almost 
every page of his Journals will support. But here, by 
the neatest address, he covertly insinuates (as a Word 
to the Wise) that he meant no more by his Miracles 
than the seeing of God in every benefit we receive. 
A certain Philosopher f of great name fancied he had 
explained the nature of vision well, on the principle 
of seeing all things in God And if the World be con 
tent to be paid in such coin, our Divine will riot be 
long in its debt. He can explain Miracles, as well 
as the other explained Nature, by the knack he has 
of seeing God in all things. This then goes a great 
way towards ridding his hands of Miracles when the 
Inquisitive become troublesome. But as he well knew 
it might be said of him, " If you part with your Mi 
racles, you strip yourself of the credentials of your 
Mission," he has a fetch for this also ; a Friend to 
help him at a dead lift; whose opinion, " he wishes 
" all calm and impartial men would consider Not 
" to establish the power of working Miracles as the 
" great Criterion of a divine Mission ; when Scripture 
" teaches us that the agreement of doctrines with 
i( truth as taught in those Scriptures, is the only in- 
" fallible Rule J." Suppose now any sense could be 
drawn out of these gallimatias of Scriptures teaching 
that the agreement of doctrines with truth as tttug/if 
in those Scriptures, is the only infallible rule : And 
that it might mean, " that Scripture teaches us, that 

Journ. from July 20, 1750, to Oct. 28, 1754, p. 18. 

f Male bran che. 

JoMru. from Aug. i<2, 1738, to Nov. i, 1739, p. 72. 

c c 3 the 



390 THE DOC T II I N E [Book II. 

the conformity of its. doctrines with the truths dis 
coverable by natural light, is the only Criterion." I 
then ask, Where SCRIPTURE teacheth this ? I ask it, 
I say, Because REASON teacheth another thing : for, 
from the Premisses, of the conformity of Scripture 
doctrines with truth, Her Conclusion is only this, 
That Scripture doctrines are true ; not that they were 
immediately derived from Heaven. I am afraid there 
fore, that Scripture is here much scandalized, by 
making it talk a language so dissonant to Reason. 
And I am the more confirmed in this opinion, since 
Scripture, from the mouth of Jesus himself, expressly 
says, that the/wsrer of working miracles, and not the 
conformity of Scripture doctrines to truth, is the greatr 
criterion of a divine Mission. The words of Jesus 
are these : " If I had not done amongst them the 
" works which no other man did, they had not had 
" Sin: But now have they both seen and hated mt? 
" and iny Father * ." But why, in case no Miracle* 
had been worked amongst them, had they not had Sin ? 
For this reason, and only for this, that, without 
Miracles, there was no sufficient criterion of a DIVINE 
MISSION. And Sin could not be imputed to them 
for rejecting a Character which did not bring its full 
credentials with it. From what I can see, then, Mr. 
J. Wesley must either stick to his Miracles, or give 
up his Mission. 

II. But he shifts and doubles no less with regard 
to the Ecstacies, and the New-birth of his. Saints. 
Sometimes they are undoubtedly of God; sometimes 
again as certainly of the Devil: but he is constant in 
this, that Natural causes have no hand in them. The 
reason is plain : He could make both GOD and the 

* John xv. 24* 

DEVII 



Chap. XII.] OF GRACE. 391 

DEVIL conducive to his purposes; but NATURE is 
the sure destruction of every fanatic frolic, The 
Saints met in Fetter-lane to humble themselves before 
God for grieving the Holy Spirit. To the several 
offences assigned, Mr. J. Wesley adds " But above 
cc all, by BLASPHEMING^ HIS WORKS amongst us, 
" imputing it either to NATURE, to the force of ima- 
" gination and animal Spirits, or even the delusion of 
" the DEVIL. At that hour we found GOD with us 
" as at the first. Some fell prostrate upon the ground. 
" Others burst out, as with one consent, into a loud 
* praise and thanksgiving. And many openly testified, 
" therp had been no such day as this, since January 
" the first, preceding*."" On -Friday many were 
" deeply- convinced ; but none were delivered from 
" that painful conviction. The Children came to the 
" birth, but there was not strength to bring forth. 
" I fear we have grieved the Spirit of the jealous 
" God by questioning his work \. n 

" Innumerable cautions were given me, not to 
" regard Visions or Dreams, or to fancy people had 
" remission of Sins, because of their Cries, or tears, 
" or outward professions. The Sum of nay answer 
" was as follows : You deny that God does now work 
" these effects : at least that he works them in this 
" manner. I AFFIRM BOTH : because I have heard 
s( these things with my own ears, and seen them with 
" my own eyes. I have seen very many persons 
" changed in a moment from the Spirit of fear, horror, 
" despair, to the Spirit of love, joy, and peace. 
" What I have to say touching Visions or Dreams is 
" this : I know several persons in whom this great 
" change was wrought in a dream, or during a strong 

* Journ. fropi Aug. 12, 1738, to Nov. i, 1739. P- 59- 
t Ibid. p. 16. 

O..G 4 " repre- 



392 THE DOCTRINE [Book IL 

" representation to the eye of the mind, of Christ, 
" either on. tlie Cross or in Glory. This is the fact *.". 
Nay r he is so convinced of ks being tlie work of 
God ri that the horrid blasphemes which, ensued, ho 
ascrihes to the abundance of joy, which God had given 
to a poor mad woman of his flock. " I met with one, 
" who having been lifted up with the abundance of 
" joy which God had given her, had fallen into blas- 
" phemies and vain imaginations. a are not common 
" to men. In the afternoon I found another instance^ 
" nearty, I fear, of the same kind She had her pri- 
" vate revelations so called f," c. But now, oi> 
a sudden, he gives us the reverse of the Medal, 
and directly revokes all he had advanced st I told 
" them they were not to judge of the Spirit whereby 
" any one spoke,, either by appearances ot* by common 
" report, or by their awn. inward fectiiigs*. No, no? 
" by any Dreams, Visions, or Revelations supposed 
" to be made to their soul, any more than by theiF 
" tears, or any ini oluntary effects wrought upon 
" their bodies. I warned them, all these were in 
" themselves of a DOUBTFUL DISPUTABLE NATURE* 
" They might be from GOD, or they might not|." 
The Header cannot but be mueh surprised to find so. 
formal a recantation of what he had said just above 
concerning inward feelings, dreams, visions, and ec* 
stacies ; and of his own confidence in affirming, these 
to be the work of God r from his having both heard 
these things with his own ears, and from his having 
wen them with his own eyes ; for here he denies common 
report, (and are not other people s ears and eyes as 

* Journ. from Aug. 12, 1738, to Ner. i, 1739, p. 49. 
f Journ. from Nov. 1, 1739, to Sept. 3, 1741, p. 54. 
J Journ. from Aug. 12, 1738, to Nov. i, 1739, pp. 60, $1. 
\ See p. 391. 

good 



Chap. XII.] OF GRACE, 393 

good as his ?) or appearances, or even feelings, to be 
a sufficient ground of assurance : of this, I can give 
no better account, and perhaps the Reader will deaire 
no better, than this, that when our Apostle thought 
fit thus to unsay what he had so confidently affirmed 
before, it was in a desponding hour, when he was in 
much doubt whether God would not lay him aside and 
fic/id other Labourers into hjs harvest *. Under these 
fears he seemed resolved, at least, that these ne\r 
Labourers should not reap what he had sown : and 
tlierefore, at all adventures, thought proper to cut the 
ground from under their feet 

At length, finding his Cause sufficiently disgraced 
bv the unruliness of these divine Agitations: and 

; 

knowing (as we shall see presently; how to make a 
better use of them ; he fairly gives them all to the 
DEVIL. " I enquired (says he) into the case of those 
" who had, almost every night the last week, cried 
" out aloud, during the preaching. I found that all 
" of them were persons in perfect health, and had 
" not been subject to Fits of any kind till they were 
" thus affected : that this had come upon every one 
" of them in a moment, without any previous notice, 
" while they were either hearing the word of God, or 
" thinking on what they had heard : that in that nx>- 
" ment they dropt down, lost all their strength, and 
" were seized with violent pain. This they expressed 
" in different manners. Some said, they felt just us 
" if a sword was running through then? ; others, that 
" they thought a great weight lay upon them, as if 
" it would squeeze them into the Earth. Some said 
" they were quite choked, so that they could not 
" breathe ; others, that their hearts swelled ready to 
" burst: and others, that it was as if their Heart, as 

* Jo*rn, from Aug. 12, 1738, to Nev i, 1739, p. 60. 

if 



THE DOCTRINE [Book IL 

" if all their Inside, as if their whole Body was tearing 
" all to pieces. These Symptoms I can no more 
" impute to any NATURAL CAUSE than to the SPIRIT 
" OF GOD. I can make no doubt but it was SATAN 
* TEARING THEM as they were coming to Christ 
" And hence proceeded those grievous cries whereby 
" he might 1 design both to DISCREDIT the Work of 
" God, and to affright fearful People from hearing 
" that Word, whereby their souls might be saved *." 
Now, the Reader ought to take notice, that these 
were the very Symptom* which Mr. J. Wesley had 
before ascribed to the Spirit of God. But by this time 
he was sensible, and so he confesses in this very place, 
that they had DISCREDITED the /Fork: They were 
therefore to be sent to the. DKVIL, from whence they 
came; yet still upon Mr. J. Wesley s Errand. For 
there is nothing, except NATURE, as we observed 
above, which he cannot put to some good use or 
other. And this new Donation of the ecstacies of the 
Saints was a noble foundation for what he was now 
projecting, the Farce of DIABOLISMS and EXORCISMS. 
Well, therefore, might he exult over this Old Mis 
chief-maker, as not having wit enough to discern that 
he was over-matched ; and that Mr. John Wesley was 
too hard for him. / womkr (says he) the Devil has 
not wisdom enough to discern that he is destroying his 
own Kingdom : f. Indeed, he has fairly turned the 
tables upon SATAN : and shewn us, that he can make 
full as good an use of a POSSESSION from below , as 
of an INSPIRATION from above. 

III. The Reader remembers how contemptuously 
Mr. Wesley has spoken of Orthodoxy, or true belie/ ) 

* Journ. from Sept. 3, 1741, to Oct. ay, 1743, p. 91. 
f Joum. from Nov. i, 1739, to Sept 3, 1741, p. 56. 
J ?ce pp. 334 33V 

even 



Chap. XII.] OF GRACE. 395 

even to the questioning whether it makes any part of 
Religion at all ; certain is he, that, at hest, it makes 
but a very slender part. " It is a point, says he, \v 
" chiefly insist upon, that Orthodoxy, or right Opinion, 
" is at best but a very slender part of Religion, if any 
" part of it at all*." This was done to take in as 
many as he could, from amongst the Sectaries ; but 
when he wants to take 0/Tas many as he can, from 
Amongst the Churchmen, then Orthodoxy, or true 
belief, is like Methodism, the U-ntim Necessarium : or, 
to speak more properly, Orthodoxy and Methodism 
are but two words for the same thing. " About a 
" thousand people stood patiently while I simply dc- 
" scribed the plain old Religion of the Church of 
* England, which is now almost everv where spoken 
" against, under the new name of Methodism}" 

IV. We have seen him (in the true spirit of a Sec 
tary) inviting and even provoking Persecution^ as the 
only means of making the good seed take root : .for, 
alter having sown it in the mud and slime Q^jieid preach- 
ing, he then, by a kind of ^Egyptian Husbandry J, 
draws together whole droves of obscene Animals, who 
rush furiously in, and trample it about ; but this, as 
that Mother-seat of ARTS may have informed him, only 

made it spring up the better.- " The Mob, says lie, 

" gathered in great numbers about my door, and quite 
" closed me in. / rejoiced and blessed God, knoichig 
" this was the time I had long been looking Jbr ." But, 
mistake him not A Persecution he ccrtantly wished, 

* Mr. Wesley s plain Account, c. p. 4. 

f Jouru. from Aug. 12. 1738, to Nov. i, 1739, p. &*. 

j in suanvquisque rus jacto scmine, Sues immittit, el 

satis conculcato a Suibus suiniae, messvui delude p\pectat : lluoU* 
1. ii. c. 14. 

$ Jpu.ro, from Kov, i, 17^, to Sept. 3, 1741, p. 56. 

and 



396 THE DOCTRINE [Book IL 

and as diligently sought. But it was for his beloved 
Saints, who, as he says, wanted it *, who hungered 
after it ; not for himself, who had no stomach to it, 
especially when it grew serious, as once upon a time 
it did. 

In his ramble to Georgia, he got acquainted with 
one Mrs. Williamson (so he himself tells his story), to 
whom he refused the Sacrament of the Lord s Supper. 
She had done some wrong, it seems, to her neighbour. 
What it was, he does not tell us. The Uncle (he says) 
desired he would declare in the Court-house, why he 
expelled Mrs. Williamson from the holy Communion, 
but he declined it, as apprehending many ill consequences 
might arise from so doing. What lie would not 
declare, the Uncle did ; and said, that it was in revenge 
for rejecting his, Mr. Wesley s, proposals of marriage, 
and marrying Mr. Williamson. The Husband prose 
cuted him for defamation: and the Wife, says Mr. 
Wesley, " swore and signed an affidavit, insinuating 
" much more than it asserted, but asserting, that he, 
" Mr. Wesley, had many times proposed marriage to 
" her, all which proposals she had rejected." 

In consequence of this, " He is presented by the 
" Grand Jury, upon oath, as having broken the Laws 
" of the Realm by speaking and writing to Mrs. 
" Williamson against her husband s consent ; by re- 
" pelling her from the holy Communion," &c. The 
matter was now growing serious ; the Georgians, he 
found, did not understand raillery, in the affair of 
spiritual Gallantry. It was time for him to look about 
him. In this distress, he began to have recourse, as 
usyal, to his revelations " I consulted my friends, 
" whether God did not call me to return to England. 
" The reason for which I left it had now no force, there 

* See p. 364. 

" being 



Chap. XII.] OF GRACE. 397 

91 being no possibility, as yet, of instructing the In- 
lc dians : neither had I, as yet, found or heard of any 
" Indians on the continent of America, who had the 

" least desire of being instructed. After deeply con- 

" sidering these tilings ; they were unanimous that I 
"ought to go; but not yet." However, the Magis 
trate quickened his pace. He was declared an 
Enemy to, and llinderer of, the public peace. " I 
" again (says he) consulted my friends, who agreed 
" with me, that the time we looked for was now come" 
The Header, who has seen him so long languish for 
persecution, will conclude, he was now preparing to 
meet it with the constancy of a Martyr. No such 
matter. lie was preparing for his flight. But to hide 
his poltronery in a bravado, he gave public notice of 
his Apostolical intention. On which the Magistrates 
ordered that he should first find security to appear, 
when summoned, to answer the Charge brought against 
him. But he refusing, they published a Placart, " rc- 
" quiring all the Officers and Sentinels to prevent his 
" going out of the Province; and forbidding any per- 
" sons to assist him in so doing." Things were now 
come to a crisis : and Mr. J. Wesley, on the whole, 
thought it best to retreat without beat of drum ; and 
to steal a march upon the Enemy. " I saw clearly 
" (says he) the hour was come for leaving this place. 
" And as soon as Evening Prtn/er was over, [for 
< c Prayer must always make a part in his Stratagems], 
" about eight o clock, the tide then serving, / shook off 
" the dust of my feet *." A very pleasant way, truly, 
of acting the Apostle. But if he made the path easy 
for himself, he took care to render it doubly perplexed 
for his Followers. He left, we see, his little Flock in 

Journ. from his embarking for Georgia, to hii return t 
London, pp. 46 56. 

the 



3()8 THE DOCTRINE [Book IL 

the lurch, to answer, as they could, for the crimes ob 
jected to their runaway Pastor. 

But had his longings for persecution been without 
Hypocrisy, he had here the fairest occasion of honestly 
indulging himself to the full. He had gone as far as 
Georgia for it. The truth of his Mission was brought 
in question by the Magistrate, and decried by the 
People ; not so much for his false doctrines, as his 
Jake morals. The honour of the Gospel was wounded 
through the sides of its pretended Missionary. There 
was but one way to support its credit, the way the first 
Chiistiun Preachers always took, the offering up them 
selves for the Truth they preached, and for the Inte 
grity they professed. Instead of this, our paltry Mimic 
thinks he bad discharged an Apostolic office, when he 
applied to himself an Apostolic phrase, / shook off 
the dust of my feet, says he ; much easier done than 
shaking cif his infamy. Jesus, indeed, orders his 
Followers to shake off the dust of their feet, where 
the inhabitants would not receive their Doctrine, that 
they might not throw away their time in vain : but he 
never directed it as a Trial-ordeal of innocence when 
they were accused of immoralities, and the honour of 
the Mission concerned. When Paul and Silas had 
been imprisoned, and otherwise evil intreated at Phi- 
lippi, neither the Miracle nor the Magistrate (when 
each, in their turn, had set open the Prison doors) 
could persuade them to stir a step till they had pro 
cured all honourable satisfaction to their injured Cha 
racters *. But what do I speak of the cases, in which 
the prudence , recommended by our great Master, 
directs his Disciples to avoid, or the courage, with 
which he inspires and enables them to dare, the rage 
of PERSECUTION ? We are now on the detection of a 

* Acts XYU 

Hypo- 



Chap. XII.] OF GRACE. 399 

HYPOCRITE, who expressed his longings for perum* 
tion ; wlio invited it, \vho provoked it, in a Country 
where the Magistrate restrained and forbad it; and 
yet ran away from it when his own honour, as well as 
that of his little Jlock, should have induced him to 
oppose himself to it ; and where the Magistrate, by his 
n\\n account, was forward enough and ready to oblige 
him. But he ran away, like a Coward, on the wings 
of Prayer and the Tide: henceforth, the hatred of this 
unhospitable Shore, and the horror of the entertain 
ment there prepared for him, made such an impression 
en his temper and his fancy, thatlie lets slip no occasion 
of revenge. For when the good man was got back to 
Europe, and even forced to beat it on the hoof as far 
as Hernhuth, in Germany, before he could get into a 
Land of Chrlsttdm *, he overtook, as he tells us, in 
a little village on the road, " a large number ofSzvit- 
" zcrs y Men, Women, and Children, singing, dancing, 
" and making merry, being all going to make their 
" fortunes in GEORGIA. Looking upon them (says he) 

" AS BEING DELIVERED INTO MY HANDS BY GOD, 

u I plainly told them, what manner of place it was. 
" If they now leap into the Fire with open eyes, their 
<{ blood is on their own hcad \" It would be hard to 
guess how he came to look upon these Sicitzers as de 
livered into his hands by God, unless he believed, God 
was bound to revenge all his squabbles with the young 
Wenches of his Band.?, (which, by his Journals, we 
find were not a few) and that therefore God prepared 

* " At Weymar, \ve came before I know not what. great roan 
" (I be Here the Duke) who, after many questions, asked, what 
* we were going so fur us Hernhuth for? I answered, to SEE TUB 
K PLACE WHERE THE CiiHiSTiANS LIVE. He looked hard, and lev 
" us go." Journ,. from feb. 1, 1737-8, to bis return from Germany, 

P- 45- 

| Journ. from Aug. 12* 173^ to Nav. i, 1739, p. 6. 

theiC 



THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

these Switzers for the Instruments of his Vengeance. 
lie made a proper use of them ; he opened tlidr eyes ; 
and so, in all likelihood, deprived a British Colony of 
many useful hands. 

V. We have seen above, how he set worldly pru 
dence, Christian prudence^ and, in a word, every thing 
which bears the name of PRUDENCE, at defiance ; 
denouncing it to be the Bane of Religion, and the 
Instrument of the Devil. This was but necessary to 
inflame the madness of his Folio wers. But a very 
different language is required when the ambition of his 
RIVALS is to be restrained. Then PRUDEXCE is the 
very balm of Gilead, the assuagcr of hurt Minds, and 
the great restorative of sickening Peace. 

But we should take the affair from its beginning. 
So early as in the year thirty- nine, he began to suspect, 
that he should have RIVALS in his Apostolic office. 
* I came into my old Room at Oxford, from which I 
" went to Georgia. Here, musing on the things that 
" were past, and remembering how many that came 
" after me were preferred before me, I opened rny 
" Testament *," & c - For you must know, Reader, 
that, of all the Superstition* (and they were not a few) 
which struggled for Dominion with fanaticism in the 
Microcosm of this holy Man, the SORTES SANCTORUM 
were the Chief; a species of Divination to which, 
St. Austin tells us, the good Christians of his time had 
recourse, rather than consult the Devil, like their 
Pagan Neighbours. To this favourite folly, our Mis 
sionary refers all his doubts. It is his Urim and 
Thummim ; and he applies it as freely and irreverently 
to his occasions, as a Village Conjurer does his Sieve 
and Sheers. At this time, indeed, it afforded him but 

* Journ. from Nov. i, 1739, to Sept. 3, 1741, pp. 14, 15. 

small 



Chap. XII.] OF GRACE. 401 

small relief. lie sunk so far in his despondency, tf.v to 
doubt whdthcc God would nut lay him aside, and -send 
other labourers hito his harvest *. We soon sec what 
it was that gave him these erutl twitches : a Rival, 
and lie no small One, the famed Mr. W m TK FIELD ; 
who now bewail to set up for himself; and, indeed, as 
much the madder of the two, to ingross the favour of 
the Rabble. While the Rivalship continued on a tole 
rable footing, Air. J. \Vcsley contented himself with, 
now and then, giving his beloved hi Christ a sly wipe 
of contempt, as occasion presented; and under the 
sgintly symbol of praising God fur //////." I read 
" prayers, and Air. ll hltejleld preached. How wise is 
61 God in giving different talents to different Preachers! 
" even the little improprieties both of his language ami 
" manner, were a means of profiting many who would 
" not have been touched by a more correct discourse, or 
" a more calm and regular manner of speaking f." This, 
we sec, was full in his teeth ; and by a side-wind came 
up to that Master- Preacher, who is insinuated to be 
more correct, and calm, and graceful, in his Pulpit- 
Manners. Notwithstanding this, Mr. H hitejidd went 
on triumphantly; and being ambitious to advance 
himself on the necks of his Fellows, taught FAITH 
ALOVE; and offered FREE G RACK to a People little 
disposed to purchase it. Air. J. Wesley was an Advo 
cate for WORKS: but he must do them himself, if he 
expected any good from them, in this Contention. For 
an equivalent, therefore, to Mr. Whitelield s spiritual 
Graces, He, like another Aloses, dispensed his tem 
poral Hlessings. Particularly, in the ART of Healing; 
lor lie would trust no longer to the GIFT, full as his 
Journals are of his miraculous Cures. It was now, lie 

* Joiirn. from Aug. 12, 1738, to Nov. l, 1739, p. 60. 
| Journ. from July 20, 1749, to Oct. 30, 1751, 1^24, 

VOL. VIII. " D D found, 



402 THE DOCTRINE [Book IP. 

found, high time to set up a regular Practice. Accord 
ingly, he told his People how deeply read he was in 
Medicine, which he had studied at Oxford. And to 
prove himself no Quack, he published a whole book 
of Receipts or Remedies for all the common Distem 
pers of life. At the same time, he let the better Sort 
understand, he was well skilled in the medicina Mentis. 
He had given innumerable flirts of contempt, in his 
Journals, against HUMAN LEARNING: and, indeed, 
of what use could Learning be in a Religion like that 
which he propagated ? In \vhich, as he assures us, 
Orthodoxy or right belief made a very slender part, 
if any part at all. Yet when now he had to struggle 
with a Rival pro aris 8$ focis, no means were to be 
left untried to secure his Dominion. He therefore 
plainly enough informs them, that he was ready to 
teach, in a better and more expeditious way than was 
hitherto known, even to the UNIVERSITIES, two emi 
nent parts of this decried Learning, namely, Rhetoric 
and Ethics. "This week, (says he) I read over 
" with some young men a Compendium of Rhetoric, 
" and a System of Ethics. I see not why a man of 
" tolerable understanding may not learn, in six months 
" time, more -of solid Philosophy than is learned at 
" 0-xford in four (perhaps seven) years *." Did ever 
JESUIT play his part better? Yet even this would not 
do. FREE GRACE bore down all before it ; and Mr. 
Wesley was at last forced, as in a desperate case, to 
have recourse to that paltry quack remedy, which he 
had so much scorned and execrated, I mean PKU- 
DENCE. "-I believed (says he) botli love and justice 
" required that I should speak my sentiments freely 
* to Mr. Wh concerning the Letter he had puh- 
lished, said to be in answer to my sermon on Jr<r 
* Journ.-frcm Nov. 25, 1746, to July 20, 1750, p. 14. 

u Grace. 



Chap. XII.] OF OR ACM. 

"Grace. The sum of .what I ob-erud to him was 
"this: i. That it was quite I.UI J IUIU\T to publish 
: it at all, as being only the pitting of ^capons into 
" their hcwd*, icho lore neither the ojic nor the other. 
:< 2* Tliat if he was constrained to hair his testimony, 
AS HL II:UJMEI> IT, against the error { uas in, 
" he might have done it by publishing a treatise on 
" this head without CUT culling my name in question." 
-Here our Journalist can treat with scorn that very 
cant in which himself so, much abounds, the upplying 
Scripture phrases to the impertinence of modern oc 
currences. " However (adds Mr. Wesley) he had 
" said enough to make an open (and probably irre- 
" parable) breach between him and me: seeing f or 
" a treacherous Wound and for the HKWKAYING OK 
" SECRETS every friend av /7 depart *." 

AVithout doubt, the Reader will be curious to know 
what these Secret* were, which had been so ill kept 
between these two Free Mason*. Unt the purpose 
of this Discourse is not to prejudice the Readers 
against this extraordinary Man, from anecdotes on 
tradition, or from secret* bwraycd\ but to enable 
them to form a judgment of his pretences, from what 
he himself has openly recorded of himself, and fre 
quently repeated to the World. What 1 would have 
them observe on the last quoted p >>-a jV , is only this, 
that Mr. J. Wesley, alter so total an estrangement from 
WOKLDLY Pui j)K.\c F., has, at length, in his distresses, 
been forced to take shelter with her. And for Jiis first 
visit, it must be ouned, he acquits himsrjl \<ry udl 
after so long an ahse-nce. The Letter Mr. Whitrlichl 
had written should not have been published, as k< it 
" \ca* putting- Weapon* info I he, hand* oj the common 
" 1 lnuwi" It should not have have been published, 

* Journal fi.uu Nov. j, ly-i), to Sept. 3, 1741, j>. 78. 

i) i) 2 as 



404 THE DOCTRINE [Book II. 

as it tended to a Schism in the Society. If he must 
needs publish it, " he should not have called Mi\ 
" Wesley "s name in question" as this tended to a 
breach between these two fast friends. And if he 
(Mr. Wesley) should never consent to have this breach 
closed, he was justified in PRUDENCE, since the Wise 
man says, from a treacherous wound and bewraying 
secrets every friend will depart ; which he understands 
to signify, every friend ought to depart. Indeed, the 
Reader may object, that there was one expedient of 
PRUDENCE left untried, which was, the meeting his 
quondam friend halfway. Mr. Wesley was no enemy 
to this use of PRUDENCE, as we shall see presently. 
But Mr. Whitefield was too formidable a Rival with 
whom to compromise, or even to yield an inch. A less 
considerable Opposer might be managed this way, 
without danger; and then his PRUDENCE directs him 
to pursue it. <c I laboured (says he) to convince Mr. 

" G that he had not done well in confuting (as he 

" termed it) the Sermon I had preached the Sunday 
" before. But he was absolutely above conviction *." 
Would not prudence now have justified him in 
leaving a man above conviction, to the error of his 
own ways ? Surely a less consummate prudence than 
Mr. J. Wesley s would have done so. But he will not 

kave Mr. G so unkindly. " I then asked (says 

" he) Will you meet me halfway f I will never preach 
" publicly against you. Will not you against me ? 
" But he disclaimed any such agreement." When 
PRUDENCE would have advised him not to preach 
publicly against the Body of that Clergy to which, he 
.says, he belongs, then is PRUDENCE the bane of Reli 
gion , the mystery of Iniquity, and the Whore of 
Babylon herself. But when she prompts him to tempt 

* Journ, from July 20, 1750, to Oct. 28, 1754, p. 81. 

a Bj Q- 



Chap. XII.] OF G R A C E. 405 ] 

a Brother of the same trade to meet half way, and not 
to preach publicly against him, then is PRUDENCE of 
heavenly birth, and sent for the assistance of the Saints : 
at present, indeed, honestly employed in the charitable 

errand of inviting Mr. G to play the Hypocrite 

Avith him : for he declares Mr. G to be absolutely 

above conviction ; that is, in conscience unable to stir 
a step ; which, too, was his own case : yet, in the same 
breath, he proposes to meet him half way. But Mr. 

G approved himself the honester man. From all 

this \ve have reason to conclude, that Mr. J. Wesley, 
amidst his warmest exclamations against Worldly PRU 
DENCE, against Christian PRUDENCE, and against 
PRUDENCE of every denomination, had it still in petto 
to employ a succcdaneum, on a pressing occasion : 
which he, indeed, calls PRUDENCE ; but which, to save 
the credit of his consistency, he had better have let go 
under its true name of CRAFT. 

Thus have I endeavoured to tear off the Mask from 
the furious and deformed visage of Fanaticism and 
Seduction. The power of Religion hath enabled me : 
and the interests of Religion have excited me to this 
attempt; nothing so much discrediting the Doctrine 
of GRACE as these counterfeit impressions of the Spirit 
of God. For, since the descent of the Holy Ghost 
was no longer in the rushing mighty wind, but in the 
.still small voice, licentious men have been but too apt 
to conclude, either that GRACE was an imaginary 
Power ; or at most, that it was no other than that 
assistance which the divine attribute of Goodness, as 
discoverable by natural light, was always ready to 
impart to distressed and helpless Mortals; Justus they 
would persuade theniM lvrs that REDEMPTION is no 
thing die than that iv-t >rnti<m t<, God s favour, which 

i) i> 3 his 



4o6 THE DOCTRINE OF GRACE. 

his mercy, discoverable too by Hie same light, prepares 
and lays open to repentant Sinners. 

The Reader, in conclusion, \\ill take notice, that the 
order I have here followed, is that which is best 
adapted to shorten the controversy, and to cat off ail 
chicane and evasion. 

1. I have singled out the Founder and Leader of 
the Sect, that no one may have pretence to say, that 
what. He is here shewn to teach and practise, is not 
true and genuine METHODISM. 

2. I have confined my remarks to his own adven 
tures, recorded by his own pen, and here fairly quoted 
in his own words ; that no one may have pretence to 
say, I have foolishly confided in false or uncertain 
reports : or unjustly made the Sect answerable for the 
indiscretions and absurdities of every obscure FIELD- 
PREACHER. 

3. I have taken the Methodists at their word, when 
they call themselves -members of the Church of 
England, that I might not run the hazard of confound 
ing both the Reader and myself with long and blind scho 
lastic disputations on original Sin, irresistible Grace, 
and justifying Faith ; on Regeneration, Election, lte~ 
probation, and the immerit of good Works. To their 
-MODE of teaching, and not to the things taught, I 
confine my discourse. Of that, every reader can 
judge; and of that, he has a sure rule to judge by, the 
MARKS delivered -by the holy Apostle St. James of the 
Wisdom which is from above: MARKS, which (for 
weighty reasons already explained) refer mostly to the 
mode of teaching; and which, if not found in this n<*w 
mode of incthodist- teaching, are sufficient to convict it 
of lmpo?ture. 



THE 



DOCTRINE OF GRACE; 



OR, 



THE OFFICE AND OPERATIONS OF THE 
HOLY SPIRIT. 



BOOK III. 



V*. 



C II A P. I. 



I NOW turn, for what remains of this Discourse, 
to those sober Ministers of the Established Church,. 
\vlio hold themselves bound to obey its DISCIPLINE 
as well as to profess its DOCTRINES. 

If any good use can be made of what has been al 
ready said, it will be chiefly promoted by these Reve 
rend Men, who, in honour of the Church which they 
serve, and in gratitude to the State by which they are 
protected, will make it their first care to support 
that most just of all Public Laws, the Law of TolE- 
UATION: which, how long soever obstructed in its 
passage to us, and how late soever arrived amongst 
us, is certainly of DIVINE ORIGINAL. Nor will such 
Men ever venture to refine upon it (which will always 
be to weaken it) by idle distinctions between the letter 
and the spirit of the Law. For between these, in 
well-composed Laws, there is no difference ; the letter 
being no other than the language and expression of 
I) D 4 . the 



408 THE DOCTRINE [Book HI. 

the .spirit. Indeed, one would wonder, they should 
ever have been opposed, did we not know how ready 
Superstition has always been to support the interests 
of bad Policy, in vitiating both the intellects and the 

.. O 

morals of Mankind. God once gave a preparatory 
Religion to a select People, under the name of LAW, 
by which the future dispensation was halt- revealed 
and half-hidden. In such a Law the letter and the 
spirit were necessarily different. A difference, which 
the Ministers to whom the propagation of this future 
Religion has been intrusted, have been much accus 
tomed to inculcate. Hence Superstition, in this, as 
in many other cases of the Jewish Law ill understood, 
very absurdly applied that distinction, to Civil Laws 
and compacts ; where the full meaning was instant, 
and should be obvious ; and where, j\s far as there 
was any real difference, so far were ttiesc I^iws of 
defective Composition. 

The Friend of Toleration therefore will not, I say, 
make any distinction, or contend for any difference, 
between the letter and. \htspirit of this Sovereign Lavr 
of Nature. Tins mischievous employment will be the 
task of him who regards it but as a temporary expe 
dient, forced upon us, to prevent greater evils. And 
as, amongst the friends of Toleration* the English 
Clergy, seduced by a common error, were not amongst 
the first to give it a cordial reception, it seems in 
cumbent on their Successors (who were however 
amongst the first to detect that common error\ to 
obliterate the memory of the old prejudices of their 
Order, by the wannest patronage and support of 
what their more reasonable principles now so much 
approve. 

Their friendly attachment to this Law will be best 
seen by their regarding it, first, as doing honour, in 

a spiritual 



Chap. I.] OF GRACE. 409 

a spiritual war, to a CHRISTIAN CHURCH ; implying 
confidence in the truth of its constitution, and that 
it will receive no detriment by a comparison with any 
other, how near or close soever they may be set 
together. 

And secondly, as bestowing benefit, in an ecclesi 
astical viezv, on the NATIONAL CHURCH; it bein<* 

7 O 

a certain Maxim, that an Established Religion, under 
a Toleration and a Test* will always go on enlarging 
its bounds ; since the restraint which this latter Law 
imposes, is so Jight, that it is considered rather as a 
small inconvenience than an injury; a burthen so easy 
as not to exasperate, but barely to excite in men a 
disposition to remove it. 

In a word, the CHURCH in which religious liberty 
is cordially entertained and zealously supported, may 
be truly called CHRISTIAN : for if the mark of the 
beast * be PERSECUTION, as the sacred volumes de 
cipher it; well may we put TOLERATION as the seal, 
vf the living God-\. This then is our present boast. 

True philosophy, so lately cultivated, and now 
happily made subservient to the Truths of Religion, 
hath rectified many of those Doctrines which the still- 
misapplied aid of the false had deformed. Nor should 
the HIERARCHY (much honoured of late in the happy 
recovery of its ancient Ornaments, the Prelates of 
high birth and noble lineage) be denied the praise, so 
justly due, for its share in this reform. To men of 
Family, we are taught, by experience, to ascribe an f 
innate generosity of mind, which inclines them to 
whatever is polite and decent in private lite; and, 
in public, disposes them to support the rights of hu 
manity and society. They are reckoned to be the 
low-born and Cell-bred number, in whose minds. 

Bevel, xvi. s. f Revel, vii. <i. 

Bigotry 



410 THE DOCTRINE [Book TIL 

Bigotry and bitter Zeal are apt to get root and over 
spread. So that the Church may promise to itself 
great advantages from the genial lustre which this fair 
.Accession to the sacred College is now deriving to it, 
DECUS ET TUT AM EX, is the motto inscribed on every 
Prelate s mitre ; most certain to be read in every 
Prelate s breast. The.y/r*/ shines naturally out in the 
birth and manners of every noble Dignitary; the latter^ 
his solemn engagements will make him studious to 
discharge. 

But this great Work will not be done by Talents 
at large, but by that sort of Talents only, which is 
suited to its sacred nature. Every Order and Station 
in Society hath its appropriated and proper tone; 
where a consent in one common key makes that har 
mony which gives perfection to the Whole. It should 
be tiie care therefore of every Member of that Whole, 
to tit his manners and accomplishments to the natural 
tone of the Body which he honours, or by which he 
may think himself honoured. This is so true, that 
manners and accomplishments, foreign to the Profes 
sion, nay, though in general estimation of a superior 
kind, -yet, when thus preposterously introduced, destroy 
all that concord which maintains its dignity and use. 

On this occasion, hear an old Grecian Tale. A 
musician -at Athens became famous for a sacred L}re, 
descending to him, through a long race of Ancestors, 
from the first Heroes and Demi-gods of Attica. Its 
Tone was so ravishing, and the skill of the Master, in 
calling it out, so delicate and profound, that the Artist 
and his Lyre were always called upon to bear a prin 
cipal part in the high Solemnities of that religious City. 
It happened, that in the midst of one of these Cele 
brations, a chord of the Lyre broke. It was strung 
in the ordinary manner with nerves, or what our 

musical 



Chap. I.] OF GRACE. 411 

musical neighbours call, conic dc boy an: But the ena 
moured Owner, to do all honour to so rare a wonder, 
unadvisedly supplied the broken string with one of 
SILVER. The <x>n sequence proved fatal. The Lyre 
lost all its harmony and sweetness : it grew harsh and 
discordant. The People abhorred what before they 
had dwelt upon with raptures ; and the unhappy Lyre, 
now the public execration, was hung up, a neglected 
thing, a silent monument of the folly of the too-fond 
Possessor. 

Nor should the great Body of the Clergy be for 
gotten on this occasion ; They who have approved 
themselves no way inferior in an honest zeal lor the 
support of Christian Liberty. If any stale particles 
of the old leaven still remain, they lie perfectly inac 
tive. A new Start-up Sect, indeed, will, be apt to 
put them into a momentary ferment : and, on such 
an occasion, they will be eager to expose their evil 
nature. 

Tlius, the first appearance of METHODISM began 
to heat and irritate the mistaken Zeal of some ill- 
instructed men, against a new species of Fanaticism, 
which pretended to be of the Church, and yet inso 
lently affronted its discipline; disdaining to shelter it 
self under the peaceable shade of a legal Toleration: 
For these men, in their hearts, were enemies to this 
Law, as fanatic Sects generally are ; who contend for 
religious Liberty, not because they would obey con 
science, but because they, an please you, are tlie 
Advocates of Truth; Liberty ^ as well as DvminWA, 
being, in their opinion, founded in CRACK* This, 
indeed, was a trying occasion. But had those good 
men considered that the Methodists provoked the 
Public patience merely to procure to themselves a 

k pcrwutiu/i; for to-more (a< they very uell -knew) 

it 



4tff THE DOCTRINE [Book III, 

it could never amount in a State- where the honour of 
the national Religion was secured by a Toleration, 
and the safety of it, by a Test ; had they considered 
this, 1 say, they would have left these factious men 
to their own inventions. 

Besides, a fairer opportunity never offered itself, 
to do the Clergy credit. Had we appeared easy only 
with those who had qualified themselves to claim a 
legal Toleration, our acquiescence might have been 
imputed to our impotency in contending with it. But 
by bearing patiently with Methodism, the Clergy might 
have shewn the World, that the Toleration-Act had 
their hearts, as well as their outward obedience; ; for 
this Sect professed to be of the Church, and yet, at 
the same time, dared to insult its Discipline, and set 
its Governors at defiance ; practices which no equi 
table indulgence would skreen from punishment. This 
xvas the time for the Clergy to vindicate their cha 
racter from the calumnies of their enemies ; and in 
general they wisely laid hold on it : So that now they 
can be no longer suspected of malevolence to the Lam 
of Toleration^ when in a case where they were free 
from its influence, they yet bore with temper, and 
though provoked by insolent defiance, connived at the 
behaviour of a Sect of Fanatics, over whom all Laws, 
divine and human, had given them jurisdiction. 

But then, if we shew ourselves thus rightly disposed 
in favour of this divine principle of Toleration, where 
the Law hath left offenders against Church Govern 
ment to the justice of its Rulers ; much more disposed 
shall we be to suffer the honest Sectary, who hath 
legally qualified himself for the enjoyment of his re- 
lig-otis liberty, to possess it without trouble or control. 

-When the Law of Toleration had once recognized 
this universal Right, it soon became apparent, that 

that 



Chap. I.] OF GRACE. 413 

that other Law of prior date, the TEST (for the forma 
tion of civil Systems does not always, like the natural, 
begin at the right end) was now, by securing the 
Rights of the national Church, become more necessary 
than ever for the peace of the State. For, by this 
Law, Sectaries were restrained from the exercise of 
certain civil Offices, which some ir.en have been pleased 
to call natural Right* : and we will not dispute with 
them about a word, for to no more does it amount, 
since it is confessed that Society could never have 
been formed without men s giving up some of their 
natural rights, in order to secure the peaceable eu- 
joyment of the rest. 

But it may so happen, by the Custom or Constitu 
tion of Corporate Bodies, that the conditional restraint 
which the Test imposcth, shall, by accident, become 
a benefit or advantage ; as when a Sectarian member 
of a Corporation is appointed by his Body to dis 
charge a very important though very onerous Office ; 
and yet not permitted by the State to enter on it, but on 
conditions which his religious principles will not 
suffer him to comply with. For it having been, a long 
time, the custom for the Member, when nominated 
to this Office, to purchase, of the Body, an exemp 
tion, at a large price, called a Fine : when this came 
to be demanded of a dissenting Member, he naturally 
replied, that it could not equitably regard any but 
Such who willingly declined a permitted Office; cer 
tainly, not Those whom the Laic had forbidden, by 
severe penalties, to discharge it. But to this so 
plausible a plea, it was thought a sufficient answer, 
" That the Law, of whose restraint the dissenting 
Member would thus avail himself, was never intended 



for his advantage or emolument." 



The 



THE DOCTRINE [Book III. 

The question therefore to be decided was this, 
<; Whether he who cannot serve is equally obnoxious 
" to the Fine, with him who will not?" and, to, this 
day, it remains undetermined *. 

Now I humbly conceive, this question can nevef 
be rightly resolved, till the true nature of the TEST 
LAW be previously settled ; and when that is done, it 
will, I suppose, be no longer disputable. 

Were this Law enacted to draw, or to drive, Dis 
senters into the National Church, the prohibition, of 
serving Civil Offices, was certainly intended for a 
PUNISHMENT. If the Law were enacted only to 
Iceep Dissenters out of those Stations, in which, by 
hurting the Church, they would violate the peace of 
the State, it was as certainly intended for a RESTRAINT, 
only; and becomes & punishment but by accident. 
. Now were it intended for. a PUNISHMENT, the Fine 
is most just and equitable : And then the reasoning 
of the Body against the Member, " That the Legisla- 
cc turo, by this Law, never intended the Dissenter 
** should receive Civil benefit and advantage/ will 
not be without irs force ; For a benefit defeats the end 
of the Law. 

But if the Test impose a RESTRAINT only, and it 
become a punishment but by accident , it may, \vith- 
out the least evil influence on the Law, become a 
benefit likewise by accident. Nay, to hinder this fair 
Chance would be highly unjust. For if, from the in 
evitable condition of human things, Particulars receive 
damage by a Law which respects the General, and 
which never had such damage in its intention, it is 
but lit they should have the same chance of a benefit, 
though equally without the intentiqn of the Legislature* 

* In the Spring of 1762, 

Indeed^ 



Chap. L] OF GRACE. 4U 

Indeed, where the unprovided-for, or unthought- 
of, Consequence tends naturally to defeat the purpose 
of the Law, there the Interpreters of it will interpose, 
and declare the advantage taken to be against the 
Law ; or, which amounts to the saine thing, to be 
unsupported by it. But an accidental benefit, which 
arises from the restraint imposed, seems better calcu 
lated to effect the end of the Test Law (which is to 
keep the enemies of the Church from ofiice in the 
State) than a damage, which might tempt them to 
violate their conscience : The benefit is, indeed, liable 
to abuse (and what is there in civil matters which is 
not so?) but this abuse does not affect the purpose of 
the Law, which is to keep Sectaries out of Office. 
But let me not be misunderstood, as if any tiling here 
said, in favour of the sectarian Member, was meant 
to include the occasional Conformist. For if such a 
one think that he may, with his conscience unhurt, 
conform, for the sake of lucrative employments, he 
can never be permitted, on pretence of Conscience, 
to plead the restrictive law, in order to evade those 
which arc onerous. And here let me further observe, 
that the Dissenters will not seem to be in the p rope rest 
circumstances to claim the advantage of the distinction 
here laid down in their favour, till they have a little 
reformed their ideas of a Test -laic. For they have, I 
think, in order to throw the greater odium upon it, 
generally represented the prohibition, which it im 
poses, as intiicted for a Punishment. Now we have 
shewn, that if o-ur Lawgivers intended a Punishment, 
it defeats their purpose, to connive at its becoming an 
accidental benefit. I only remark this for the sake of 
a general observation, That when Bodies of men, 
whether civil or ecclesiastical, suffer themselves to be 
misled by their passions and prejudices, their interests 
1? or 



416 THE DOCTRINE [Book III. 

or resentments, the errors they fall into, will always, 
sooner or later, turn upon themselves. 

Now it appears, both from Reason and Fact, that 
the TEST is a restrictive, and not a penal Law, in the 
proper meaning of these terms. 

1 . If a Law may be understood in two senses, one 
of which supports its equity, while the other betrays 
its injustice, Reason directs us to adopt the first. To 
punish Sectaries, in order to bring them -over to the 
national Religion, is plainly wrong : But to restrain 
Sectaries from hurting the national Religion, is as 
plainly right. Therefore, though the intention of the 
Legislature had in this particular instance been doubt 
ful, yet a general Law of a free People would admit 
of no other interpretation. 

2. But the intention of the Legislature was not 
doubtful : and the reason of the thing is supported by 
fact. When this Law was made, the national Church 
was deemed, in the public Opinion, to be in much 
danger both from Protestant and Popish Sectaries. In 
the early days of its establishment indeed, the Govern 
ment had endeavoured to bring Both into it; and 
many penal Laws were enacted for that purpose : But, 
at the time the Test became a Law, that visionary and 
unjust project had been long dropt ; and Government 
was content to confine its care to the protection^ 
rather than extension of the national Church. Had 
this latter point been their aim, it was to be effected 
only by the vigorous execution of the old penal Laws 
then in being. The Test added no force to those ; 
but, on the contrary, greatly relaxed their vigour, by 
disposing Government to repose their chief confidence^ 
and seek their only remedy for disorders, in. this new* 
made Law, 

And 



. 



Chap. I.] OF GRACE. 417 

And now may be seen the strength of that Objec 
tion made to the Test, as it is legally inforced to af 
fect the interests of Protestant Dissenters, viz. " that 
its original and direct intention (a fact no one will 
deny) was to oppose to the machinations of Popery; 
and that therefore, those being included only by acci 
dent, may very reasonably be overlooked." But if 
the idea here given of the Test-law be the true, it is 
apparent, that the general, though not immediate pur 
pose or the Legislature, in this Law, WHS to provide 
for the safety oi" + hr national Church, and that for the 
sake of the State, from what quarter soever the danger 
might arise. At one season it might spring from 
Popery ; at another from Puritanism ; but the various 
civil mischiefs, consequent on religious quarrels, were 
to be repelled, as they sprung up, with equal vigi 
lance and vigour. But let no one by this imagine, 
that a comparison is here insinuated between Popery 
and Puritanism. As Religions, they can no more be 
compared together, than a body irrecoverably cor 
rupted, with one but slightly tainted. Yet, with re 
gard to the civil mischiefs which religious differences 
occasion, we have experienced, that the lightest matters 
often produce as great, as the most important : And 
the surplice and cross in baptism have alienated fellow 
Citizens against one another as fiercely as the tyrannic 
claim of a Supremacy, or the superstitious worship 
of dead men deified. 

However, the nature and genius of the two Sects 
is sufficiently discriminated by tolerating the one, and 
only (under suspended penal laws) connlcing at the 
other : But still on the same civil prndples ; these 
laws not being directed against the religious errors of 
the Church, but the political perversities of the Ccurt, 
RoMfc ; which will not suffer its Subjects to give any 
VOL. VIII. E E reasonable 



418 THE DOCTRINE [Book III, 

reasonable security for their allegiance to the supreme 
Magistrate: For with religious errors as such, the 
State hath nothing to do, nor any right to attempt 
to repel or suppress them. They are the civil mis- 
chiefs with which civil Society is concerned, the mis 
chiefs arising from religious quarrels when the two 
Parties are near equal in Power (as I suppose they 
would soon be under a Toleration without a Test- 
law), and are set upon repressing one another s 
errors. 

And now, since so much hath been urged in be 
half of the Dissenters, their Civil and Religious Rights, 
they will bear to be reminded of one thing, in their 
turn ; neither to abuse the Toleration themselves, nor 
to screen others in abusing it. And the case I am 
about to give of One, who, it is pretended, was thus 
screened, will, I hope, excuse this freedom. It is 
indeed the case of One who, without doing much in 
jury to our dissenting Brethren, can never be reckoned 
in their number. This miserable Buffoon, of whom 
I would be understood to speak, was suffered for near 
thirty years together to turn all RELIGION and MO 
RALITY into ridicule; once, and, for some time, twice 
a week, in a licensed place of Devotion in the Capital 
of the Kingdom. A matter so much to the disgrace 
of Society, that They, on whom the scandal fell, 
thought proper to give out, that a vigorous prosecu 
tion of this Offender was ordered to be commenced ; 
but that when it was known, the Dissenters took the 
alarm, as if the Law of Toleration was in danger, 
since this Impostor acted under the common protec 
tion of a Licence from Hicks s Hall. 

Yet, whoever hindered the prosecution, could not 
but confess, that this was a very vile abuse of a most 
sacred Law : They could not but apprehend that for 

an 



Chap. L] OF GRACE. 419 

an abused Law to screen the Abuser from punish 
ment, was making Law to EXECUTE itself, in a very 
different sense from what crafty Politicians have some 
times projected. 

But from all that has been here said in behalf of 
the Law of Toleration, let me not be understood as 
if I could suppose, or would insinuate, that this Law 
has altered the nature of the crime going under the 
name of SCHISM, which is an unnecessary separation 
from the national Church; or, because it hath taken 
all civil punishment from the offender, that therefore 
Schism is become harmless, and an empty name: 
and that the Law in favour of Schismatics, like the 
law in favour of WITCHES, had dissipated only a 
frightful Phantom. It is true, that, in both Cases, 
the Legislature acted for the same end, the restraint 
of injustice; but it was on very different principles: 
In the first case, they took off civil punishment from 
a real crime, not cognizable by a human Judicatory: 
and, in the latter, they removed an opprobrium from 
the Statute Book, which expressed a sanguinary re 
sentment against an imaginary one. 

Schism, or a causeless separation from the national 
Church, is a crime, which, on all the principles of 
Law and Reason, deserves condign punishment. But, 
of this separation, whether with or without cause, 
there is no adequate Judge, but that Power who can 
distinguish between a well and an ill-informed Con 
science. Very justly therefore did this Free Govern 
ment remit the question to a wiser Tribunal. But 
in so doing it did not mitigate, but, by its indulgence, 
rather aggravate the Guilt, whurevt-r it shall be tbund, 
hereafter, to exist. And how wisely so doubtful a 
point was remitted thither, we may, in part, see from 
the answer of the foreign Divines, to whose judgment, 
E 2 at 



420 THE DOCTRINE [Book III. 

at the beginning of our Reformation (when the quarrel 
between the Puritans and the Churchmen about Cere 
monies and Discipline ran high), both Parties agreed 
to submit. Those prudent and honest men, when 
thus appealed unto, gave it as their opinion, that 
fl the Puritans ought to conform, rather than make a 
schism ; and that the Churchmen ought to indulge the 
others scruple, rather than hazard one." A wise de 
cision, and reaching much further, in religious mat 
ters, than to the single case to which it was applied. 

Schism therefore is no less a crime now, that the 
Law consigns over its punishment to a proper Judi 
cature, than it was when civil Authority, blindly and 
ineffectually, interfered to vindicate the honour of Re 
ligion from this unhappy scandal. 

Thus have we seen what reputation accrues to the 
Church of England, from the establishment of this 
inestimable Law 7 ; and what benefits may further accrue 
to it by the prudent conduct of our Clergy, in its 
support. 



CHAP. II. 

WHAT remains of my Subject, will be more 
particularly addressed to the Ministers of Religion : 
who are surrounded with Enemies from various quar 
ters; and insulted both by the attacks of INFIDELITY 
and FANATICISM. 

Their defence, therefore, is indeed of necessity to 
be as much diversified ; but it should still be under 
the safe conduct, and with the simple Armour of 
TRUTH only. For it is not the honour of a fantastic 
Sect of Philosophy which We are intrusted to sup 
port; 



Chap. II.] OF GRACE. 421 

port; better committed to the care of those who 
exercise the talents of its old Patrons, the SOPHISTS; 
neither is it the credit of a Traditional Orthodoxy, 
which, some of those who are called FATHERS of the 
Church have, of old, defended with the like arts and 
arms : But it is the simple GOSPEL of JESUS, equally 
abhorrent of refinement and deceit. 

I cannot, nor indeed have I any just reason to 
suspect, that the English Clergy will dishonour so 
noble a Cause by any premeditated fraud. Yet 
the most Upright, in the. heat of controversy (pro 
voked, and perhaps alarmed at the extravagant 
powers which Libertines and Fanatics reciprocally 
ascribe to REASON and to GRACE), have been but 
too apt to run into destructive extremes, depreciating, 
and even annihilating, sometimes the One, and some 
times the Other, as best served the purpose they were 
then pursuing. Of which egregious lolly, their Ad 
versaries have never failed to take advantage, by 
turnin^ their own ill-fashioned and worse-fabricated 

O 

Arms against them. And this was easily done ; since 
Revealed Religion derives its whole support from the 
joint operation of these two Principles, Reason and 
Grace, acting on the human mind witli equal and un- 
remitted vigour. 

But to understand more sensibly the mischiefs 
arising from such ill-judged detcnces of Religion, I 
shall set before the Reader a capital Example of each 
of these EXTREMES, of which we are now speaking. 
From whence we may learn the use and necessity of 
keeping within that equal MEAN, which most effec 
tually serves .to detect and to expose the errors of 
either Adversary. 

It hath ever been amongst the principal arts of 
Infidelity to make the most extravagant encomiums 

E E 3 on 



423 THE DOCTRINE [Book III. 

on HUMAN REASON; and, consequently, to profess 
the utmost regard and reverence for, what Unbelievers 
are pleased to call, NAI r u ^ L RELIGION. Under this 
cover, by the poorest sophistry and hypocrisy imagin 
able, they have accustomed themselves to undermine 
REVELATION. But now, What expedient, think you, 
did some warm defenders of Revelation employ to 
uphold its credit ? You will naturally say, they took 
care to moderate the extravagant representations of 
these false friends of Reason and natural Religion ; by 
marking out the just bounds of the human Faculties, 
and shewing, how far Reason extends her jurisdiction, 
and in what she herself prescribes submission: by 
explaining how necessary a foundation natural Religion 
* s is to the Revealed-, how it coincides with it, is com 
pleted by it, and so inseparably annexed to it (as the 
foundation to its superstructure) that nothing can hurt 
the One which does not injuriously affect the Other ; 
there being no objection, which the Logic of misapplied 
Reason can bring against Revealed Religion^ which 
does not hold at least equally strong against the 
Natural. 

This they did, you say, because This they ought to 
have done. Alas ! they took a very different course. 
They declaimed against human Reason; they depressed 
it as extravagantly as their Adversaries had advanced 
it." Should you be so foolish, they told you, as to 
take it for your Guide, it would lead you to nothing 
but to sin and misery : that the Gospel disclaimed it, 
and went entirely on the surer ground of FAITH : that 
its confessed impotency in defence of truths revealed, 
may shew the absurdity of relying on it to discover 
truths unrevealed" Hence, they assured you, " that 
the Deists boasted System of natural Religion was a 
Chimera; and that what (under this name) they re 
commended 






Chap. II.] OF GRACE. 423 

commended to the adoration of their followers, was an 
Impostor, made up of just so much of the revealed as 
was of use to them in combating the rest:" Finally, 
they said, " that all religious knowledge of the Deity, 
and of man s relation to him, was revealed; and had 
descended traditionally down (though broken and dis 
jointed in so long a passage) from thcjirst Man ; who 
received it as he came out fresh from the forming 
hands of his Creator." 

When our Enemies had gotten these indiscreet 
friends of Revelation at this advantage, they changed 
the attack, (for all Arms are indifferent to them t but 
in proportion to their present power of doing mischief) 
and now tried, how Revelation was to be further 
shaken, on these new and extravagant principles of its 
Defenders. 

I. Accordingly a certain masked Buffoon undertook 
to turn one part of this Paradox against them, in a 
Discourse to prove that REVEL ATI ox WAS NOT 
FOUNDED ox ARGUMENT; and tempered his irony 
with so grave and solemn a tone, that many good men 
mistook this arch-enemy of all godliness to be, at worst, 
but an over-warm promoter of it. He had two ends 
in this worthy attempt ; the one, to discredit Religion ; 
the other, to excite and encourage Fanatics to discredit 
it still more. 

A fairer Writer against Religion, because a more 
open, took up the oilier part of the Paradox, with the 
same righteous design. And as the Buffoon had un 
dertaken to shew that Revealed Religion was not 
founded in argument, so the Declaimer * sets himself 
to prove that natural Religion ivas not founded in 
common Sense : for, its existence depending on the moral 
attributes of the Deity, his just ice and goodness, this 

* Lord Bolingbroke. 

E E 4 broacher 



424 THE DOCTRINE [Book III. 

broacher of the last runnings of the FIRST PHILOSO 
PHY labours to shew ihat justice and goodness belong 
not to him, whose entire essence consists in the natural 
attributes of wisdom and power only. Hence, under 
the name of natural Religion, he slurs in upon us an 
irreligious NATURALISM. And now Revelation, de 
prived oTTtnoundation, natural Religion, and of its 
best defence and ornament, human Reason, lies a 
scorn to Unbelievers, and a prey to Fanatics and 
Enthusiasts. 

But all this hath not yet taught these wayward 
Divines, wisdom. We have lately seen them, even at 
the Fountain of Science, the University *, attempting 
to support in good earnest the wretched paradox which 

Mr. - had so mischievously advanced in jest. And 

yet one should be utterly at a loss to guess in what the 
wit or wisdom of it lay, whether advanced in earnest 
or in jest. But a mischievous Heart will at any time 
risk the reputation of its head-piece to give the alarm 
to sober piety ; and a warm Head discloses, without 
fear or wit/ the rancour of its bosom, to vilify and 
bespatter superior Reason. Otherwise, to ask, Whether 
Christianity was founded in Reason or in Faith, would 
be deemed just as wise a question as Whether St. 
PauVa Clock was founded in Mechanism or in Motion? 
1 Since, if it be found to b&vejnotfon, we necessarily 
conclude that motion to be regulated by mechanism : 
So, if the vital principle of Christianity be Faith, we 
necessarily conclude it to be such a Faith, as was 
formed, and may be supported, on the rules and prin 
ciples of human Reason. A wild Indian, perhaps, 
nwht imagine that the Clock was animated by a Spirit; 
and an Enthusiast, still wilder than he, may, for aught 
I know, conclude that Christianity rises only out of 

* Oxford. 

internal 



Chap. II.] OF GRACE. 425 

internal impulse, But surely none but a Buffoon or a 
Fanatic would, for his credit in jest, or for his interest 
in good earnest, discard the ITJC of Reason in consult 
ing for his future happiness, when he has already 
found it so useful in procuring his present. Both the- 
future and the present are acquired by the right adap 
tion, of means to ends; and this adaption, I suppose, ^j^ 
will be confessed by all to be in the sole province of 
RI.ASOX. Nor has this heaven-appointed Guide ever 
given any just cause of complaint or jealousy. When 
men see themselves bewildered, they ought to suspect 
themselves : and, I believe, on enquiry, they will 
always find, that they had been directing Reason when 
they should have been directed by her. But the Pas 
sions and Affections, which have occasioned her dis 
credit, go on, in their illusions, to excite our distrust. 
II. Again, these indiscreet friends of Religion, while 
they were thus pushing the common Adversary, with 
these imaginary advantages gained by the depression 
of human reason, did not advert to the mischiefs they 
were letting in, at the opposite quarters of Super 
stition and Fanaticism. POPERY can only stand and 
flourish on the foundation of implicit faith ; and the 
fervours of EXTIIUSI ASM soon rise into madness, when 
unchecked by Reason. The PRIEST expects of you 
to renounce your Understanding, before he will under 
take to reconcile you to the Church of Pcome ; but, 
indeed, when that is over, he permits you to take up 
as much of it again, as will serve you to justify your 
Apostasy. The quarrel, which the FANATIC has to 
it, is more serious. He is ever feeling its ill effects; 
and therefore his aversion to it is immortal. When 
Ignatius Loyola was in the Meridian of his Fervours, 
some of the writings of Erasmus chanced to fall into 
his hands. He was at first seduced, by the charms of 

the 



426 THE DOCTRINE [Booklll. 

the composition, to look into them ; but finding they 
had, before he was aware, insensibly damped the in 
flammation of his Zeal ; he cast them from him with 
abhorrence and execration: The very same disaster, 
Mr. /. Wesley informs us, once befell himself, in his 
converse with the sober followers of Erasmus, inso 
much that he was soon forced, he tells us, to avoid 
them, as the bane of all Keligio?i. " I avoid that 
BANE OF ALL RELIGION, the company of good sort 
of men, as they are called. These insensibly undermine 
all my resolution, and steal away what little ZEAL I 
have *." If this be true, though they steal but 7 rash, 
yet they leave him poor indeed; as his quondam 
Master has lately observed. " Your strictures upon 
" Messieurs of the Foundery, and the Tabernacle, &c. 
" (says he to a friend) are very just. These gentle- 
" men seem to have no other bottom to stand upon but 
" that of ZEAL |\" Indeed, against so dangerous an 
Enemy as SOBER SENSE, the Fanatic cannot be too 
carefully guarded. And therefore, he never thinks 
himself secure from the mischiefs of Reason, till he 
has, with the same hoarse clamours that the meta 
morphosed Clowns in the Fable pursued Latona and 
her godlike Issue; driven away from the neighbour 
hood of the Saints, both Reason, and her fair and 
celestial Offspring, NATURAL RELIGION and HUMAN 
LEARNING. 

Mr. J. WESLEY, who is ready to exhibit to us every 
feature of Fanaticism in its turn, has, I fear, been 
kept so long upon the Scene, as to tire out his 
Audience ; he shall therefore be only once again exhi 
bited, to testify, in a word or two, his civilities to 
natural Reason and natural Religion ; and then dis - 

* Journ. from Aug. 1-2, 1738, to Nov. i, 1739, p. 31. 
\ Mr. W. Law s Collection of Letters, &c. p. 189. 

missed 



Chap. II.] OF GRACE. 427 

missed for good. As to the first, he frankly tells us, 
the Father of lies was the Father of reasonings also : 
" I observed, (says he) every day more and more, the 
" advantage Satan had gained over us. Many were 
" thrown into idle reasonings" And again, Many 
" of our Sisters are shaken. Betty and Esther H. 
" are grievously torn by reasonings *." His civilities 
to NATURAL RELIGION, and to that eminent Writer 
who has so well explained the nature of this first great 
gift of God to Man, follow next : " Meeting with 
" a Frenchman of New Orleans (says Mr. Wesley), he 
" gave us a full and particular account of the Chica- 
" saws : And hence we could not but remark, what 
"is THE RELIGION OF AATi -RE, properly so called, 
" or that Religion which flows from natural Reason, 
" unassisted by Revelation" He then speaks of their 
manners in War. Their way of living in Peace follows 
in these words; " They do nothing but eat and drink 
" and smoak from Morning till Night, and in a manner 
" from Night till Morning. For they rise at any hour 
" of the night when they wake, and, after eating and 
" drinking as much as they can, go to sleep again. 
" See THE RELIGION OF NATURE truly DELINE- 
" ATED f." What is chiefly curious in this account 
is, that Mr. Wesley professes to shew us what that 
Religion is which is properly called natural, or that 
which flows from NATURAL REASON unassisted by 
REVELATION, and yet he gives us, in its stead, only 
man s natural manners, which flow not from his reason, 
but from his passions and appetites only ; in an ex 
ample, where Reason may be rather said to have a 
capacity of existence than actually to exist, as being 

* Journ. from Nov. i, 1739, to Sept. 3, 1741, pp. 8 & 17. 
f Journ. from his embarking for Georgia, to his return to 
London, pp. 44, 45. 

alike 



428 THE DOCTRINE [Book III. 

alike inert and void of power whether the Chicasaw be 
waking or asleep. 

As to HUMAN LEARNING, if the zealous Mr. W. 
Law does not assault this more rudely than his forward 
Pupil has insulted NATURAL RELIGION, yet he re 
turns much oftener to the Charge. The last Legacies, 
which this bountiful Gentleman hath bestowed upon 
the Public, are A Collection of Letters, Sec. and An 
Address to the Clergy, Sec. In these two Works the 
hapless Author of the Divine Legation is pointed at 
on every occasion of abuse, and held up as the grand 
Apostate from Grace to Human Reason ; and this 
chiefly, for denying (what indeed, I neither deny nor 
affirm, for I take it to be nonsense) Tlmt " Divine 
" Inspiration is ESSENTIAL to Man s Jirst created 
" state, and vainly thinking to find out a middle way, 
" between this and no inspiration at all, namely, that 
" the Spirit s ordinary itifluence occasionally assists 
" the faithful* For this, and for some few things 
besides, such as a charge of Spinozism on his beloved 
Behmenism, I have the honour to be plentifully, though 
spiritually railed at, whenever he fancies he sees me 
in the Retinue of HUMAN LEARNING. 

He lays it down as a Postulatum, " That whatever 
" comes not IMMEDIATELY from GOD, can have no- 
" thing godly in it. Therefore what comes IMMEDI- 
" ATELY from SELF, such as NATURAL REASON, 
" however outwardly coloured, can have no better a 
" nature within than the very Works of the DEVIL. * 

p. 57. 

Now the fruit of natural reason being HUMAN 

LEARNING (indeed, according to this account, more 
properly than men were aware of, called profane 
Learning) ; he thus descants upon it. 

See pp. 12 & 25 of the Address to the Clergy. 

Tirst 



Chap. II.] OF GRACE. 429 

First of all, he assures us, it has nothing to do with 
Religion. " Where can God s Kingdom be come, but 
" where every other power, but his, is at an end, and 
" driven out ? What now have Parts and Literature 
" and the natural Abilities of man to do here ? just as 
" much as they can do at the Resurrection of the dead ; 
" for all that is to be done here is nothing else but 
" Resurrection and Life.* Yet vain man would be 
" thought to do something in this kingdom of Grace 
" because he has happened to be made a Scholar, has 
"run through all the Languages and Histories, has 
" been long exercised in conjectures and criticisms, and 
" has his head full of all notions, theological, poetical, 
" and philosophical, as a Dictionary is full of all sorts 
" of words. Now let this simple question decide the 
" whole matter here : Has this great Scholar any more 
" power of saying to this mountain, Be thou removed 
11 hence and cast into the Sea, than the illiterate Chris- 
" tian hath?" pp. 96, 97. To this reasoning against 
human Learning, in its use to Religion, little can be 
opposed. For it is very certain human Learning can 
neither raise the Dead, nor remove Mountains. 

But it is not only useless in Religion, but is of 
infinite mischief. 

For i. It nourisheth PRIDE. " The piercing Critic 
" may, and naturally will, grow in pride, as fast as his 
" skill in words discovers itself. And every hind of 
<c knowledge that shews the Orator, the Disputer, the 
" Commentator, the Historian, his own powers and 
" abilities, are the same temptation to him that Eve 
" had from the serpent/ &c. Lett. p. 187. 

2. It nouiisheth Contention. " Grammar, I^ogic 
" and Criticism, each knoweth nothing of Scripture 
" but its words ; bringeth forth nothing but its own 
" wisdom of words, and a Religion of wrangle, hatred, 

" and 



430 THE DOCTRINE [Book III. 

" and contention about the meaning of them." Ad 
dress, p. 122. 

3. It turneth Religion to a trade. " Where self, 
" or the natural man is become great in religious 
" Learning, there, the greater the Scholar, the more 
" firmly will he be fixed in their Religion, whose God 
" is their belly" p. 59. 

4. It is the abomination of desolation. " Genius 
" and Learning entered into the pale of the Church 
<c Behold, if ever, the abomination of desolation 
" standing in the holy place. Christ has no where 
" spoken one single word, or given the least potver to 
" Logic, Learning, or the natural powers of man IN 
" HIS KINGDOM. * p. 114. By this, we find, that 
CHRIST S KINGDOM may be usurped as well by 
classic Learning as by CHURCH DISCIPLINE. It 
is certain, our modern ideas of religious Liberty can 
consist with neither of them, for this Liberty claims an 
exemption both from REASON and OBEDIENCE. 

5. It chuseth darkness rather than light. " But 
" now, Who can more reject this divine light" [i. e. 
the light of the world, re-illuminated by the blessed 
Jacob, as he calls him] " or more plainly choose dark- 
le ness instead of it, than he who seeks to have his 
" mind enriched, the faculties of his fallen soul culti- 
" vated, by the literature of Poets, Orators, Philoso- 
" pliers, Sophists, Sceptics, and Critics, born and bred 
" up in the worship and praises of Idol Gods and 
" Goddesses?" 

6. Finally, it is a total Apostasy from God and 
Goodness. " The practice of all Churches for many 
* ages, has had recourse to Learning, Art, and Sci- 
" ence, to qualify Ministers for the preaching of the 
* Gospel To this more than to any other cause, is the 
" great Apostasy of all Christendom to be attributed. 

" The 



Chap. II.] OF GRACE. 431 

The death of all that is good in the Soul, have 
" now and always had their chief nourishment and 
u support from the sense of the merit and sufficiency of 
" literal accomplishments And the very life of Jesus 
" in the Soul is by few people less earnestly desired, 
" or more hard to be practised, than by great Wits, 
u Classical-Critics y Linguists, Historians, and Orators 
" in holy orders." (Lett. p. 37.) And again "This 
" empty letter-learned knowledge, which the natural 
" man can as easily have of the Sacred Scripture and 
" human matters, as of any other books or human 
" affairs, this being taken for divine knowledge has 
" spread such darkness and delusion all over Chris- 
" tendom, as may be reckoned no less than a GENERAL 
<c APOSTASY from the Gospel state of divine illumi- 
" nation" (Address, p. 94.) 

We see by this, that the grand mistake of Scholars 
has hitherto been, in supposing, that the true sense of 
Scripture is to be discovered by the application of those 
Principles which enable us to find out the meaning con 
tained in other ancient Books. 

And now the good man having worked up his enthu 
siasm into a poetical ferment (for, as it has been said, 
that a Poet is an Enthusiast in jest, so, he shews us, 
that an Enthusiast may be a Poet in good earnest) he 
adorns these powerful reasonings with a string of as 
beauteous Similes, in discredit of human Learning. 

i. It is compared to the fall of man. " Look 
" (says he) at the present state of Christendom, glory- 
" ing in the light of Greek and Roman Learning, and 
" you will see the fall of the present Church from its 
"first Gospel-state, to iiave much likeness to they*/// 
" of the first divine man, from the glory of paradisiacal 
" innocence, and heavenly purity, into an earthly state 

" and 



432 THE DOCTRINE [Book III. 

" and bestial life of worldly craft and serpentine sub- 
tilty." p. 98. 

2. It is directly compared to the old Serpent 
" What a poverty of sense in such, to set themselves 
" down at the feet of a Master Tully, and a Master 
" Aristotle ! who only differ from the meanest of all 
<f other corrupt men, as the teaching Serpent differed 
" from his fellow -animals, by being more subtle than 
" all the beasts of the fold? pp. 1 39, 140. 

3. It is compared to the Tower of Babel " A 
" Tower of Babel may, to its builders eyes, seem to 
" hide its head in the clouds ; but as to its reaching of 
" Heaven, it is no nearer to that than the earth on 
" which it stands. It is thus with all the buildings of 
c Man s wisdom He may take the logic of Aristotle, 
" add to that the rhetoric of Tully, and then ascend as 
" high as he can on the ladder of Poetic imagination, 
" yet no more is done to the reviving the lost life of 
"God in his Soul, than by a Tower of Brick and 
" Mortar, to reach Heaven/ p. 104. 

4. Again, it is compared to Idolatry " What is it 
" that most of all hinders the death of the old man ? 
" It is the fancied riches of Parts, the glitter of genius, 

o O 

<c the flights of imagination, the glory of Learning, 
" and the self- conceited strength of natural Reason: 
" these are the strong holds of fallen nature, the 
" Master-builders of Prides Temple, and which, as so 
" many Priests, keep up the daily worship of IDOL 

ScLF." p. 110. 

But, now his poetical Enthusiasm has blazed itself 
out ; and he comes again to himself. We know how 
the lucid intervals of a Fanatic are wont to be em 
ployed ; generally in covering the madness of the Hot 
fit with the most deliberate and unblushing falsehoods 
of the Cold. 

From 



Chap. II. ] OF GRACE. 

From what hath past, rash Divines might be apt to 
charge this holy man, so meek of Spirit, with Enthu 
siasm, with a brutal spite to Rwm,\\\\& with more 
than Vandalic rage against human Learning. IJut they 
wrong him greatly, i. As to Enthusiasm, he sav.;, 
What an argument would this be ; Enthusiasts have 
" tmde a bad use of the doctrine of being led by the 
" Spirit of God; ergo, He is Enthusiast leal who 
" preaches up the doctrine of being led by the spirit 
" of God. Now absurd as this is, was any of my Ao 
" coders, as high in Genius, as bulky in Learning, as 
Colossus was in Stature, he would be at a loss to 
cc bring a stronger argument than this to prove me an 
:( Enthusiast, or an abettor of them." p. .51. This is 
plainly unanswerable, unless you read, as his Accuser 
wrote it, for who preaches up the doctrine who 
ABUSIVELY preaches up the doctrine. 

2. " Another Charge (says he) upon me, equally 
" false, and, I may say, more senseless, is, that I am a 
"declared Enemy to the use of Reason in Religion. 
And, why ? Because in all my writings I teach that 
Reason is to be denied. I own it, and this, because 
" Christ has said, Whoever mil come after me, let him 
" deny himself. For how can a man duty himself with- 
" out denying his reason, unless reason be no port of 
"himself?" p. .52. Now I am at a loss to know, 
How any one can become an enemy to another more 
declared, than by denying or renouncing that other. 
Were I to deny my Sovereign, I should be soon taught 
to know, that he considered me as his enemy, and 
would probably treat me accordingly. But Sovereign- 
Reason has no Attorney-General, unless perhaps, it 
be that Colossus he speaks of, and so loudly defies. 
However, if human Reason can argue no better than 
Mr. Law, I am ready to deny her too.- Fur, a Man s 
VOL. VIII. F s sdj\ 



434 THE DOCTRINE [Book III. 

*elf, I have been taught, has a two-fold acceptation ; 
his Reason may be called, himself, and so may his 
Passions. If therefore he be commanded to deny him- 
self] I should conclude, it was not his better self, his 
Reason, but the worse, his Passions, to which the divine 
Command refers. 

3. Then as to human Learning, the Charge, he tells 
us, is -^ false and senseless as the rest" Shew me a 
" Scholar as full of learning as the Vatican is of Books, 
" and he will be just as likely to give all that he hath 
" for the Gospel-Pearl, as he would be, if he was as 
" rich as Croesus. LET NO ONE HERE IMAGINE I 

44 AM WRITING AGAINST ALL HUMAN LITERATURE, 

44 arts, and sciences, or that 1 wish the World to be 
" without them. / am no more an Enemy to them, 
" than to the common useful labours of life. It is 
" literal Learning, verbal contention, and critical strife 
" about the things of God that I charge with folly, and 
" mischief to Religion. And, in this, I have aH 
" learned Christendom, both Popish and Protestant, 
e; on my side ; for they both agree in charging each 
" other, with a bad and false Gospel-state, because of 
" that, which their Learning, Logic, and Criticism do 
<4 for them." p. 151. There arc no such proficients in 
sophistry as the declared enemies of Reason ; nor any 
so dexterous in legerdemain as the merest bunglers in 
Mechanics. He is not an Enemy, he tells us, to 
tinman literature, but to literal learning only : That 
is, he approves of Learning contained in Letters, but 
not of Letters contained in Learning. The truth is, he 
\vould willingly in this distress take shelter, did he 
know how, even in the graceless company of Men of 
Taste; who, like him, to hide their ignorance, are 
always scofiing at the Pedantry of Literal learning and 
.wlxif criticism \\i\h the same good sense that an 

Artificer 



Chap. II.] OF GRACE. 43, 

Artificer abuses those Tools of his trade which he 
knows not how to work with. Again, do Popish and 
Protestant Disputers ever say to one another .Tew 
support (i bad and false Gospel by Learning, Look , 
and Criticism ? Do not their reciprocal accusations 
of one another s errors turn upon the WANT of Learn 
ing, Logic, and Criticism ? Or was Mr. Law, indeed, 
so ignorant as he pretends, when he supposes there are 
now two Kinds of Learning, Logic, and Criticism, a 
Popish and a Protestant; instead of one, founded and 
perfected on Principles, held by both Parties in com 
mon ? All that they, charge on one another is the 
abuse of these Principles. 

But to draw towards an end with this furious Beh- 
menist In all this ribaldry, the only chance he has of 
misleading illiterate and weak Mortals, is by the re 
peated insinuations, that all religious dissensions are 
owing to these mischief-makers, Reason and Human 
learning-, and that, in their absence, there is a perfect 
accord in Religion. But this is the fancy of none but 
Bards or Enthusiasts ; who never saw, but in poetic* 
or ecstatic Visions, that time when 

" Christians and Jews one heavy Sabbath kept; 
" And all the Western World bclicv d and slept." 

Before mortals either zrrit or read, the quarrels of 
Dunces were as fierce as those of Wits. In Religion, 
the dissensions amongst the irrational Sects have ever 
been as implacable as those amongst the Rational. 
And itj in those miserable conflicts, the wounds of the 
latter went deeper, it was because their force was greater 
and their weapons better. 

To conclude, When I reflect on the wonderful in 
fatuation of this ingenious man, who has spent a long 
life in hunting after, and, with an incredible appetite, 

F r a devouring, 



436 THE DOCTRINE [Book III. 

devouring, the trash dropt from every species of 
Mysticism, it puts me in mind of what Travellers * 
tell us of a horrid Fanaticism in the East, where the 
Devotee makes a solemn vow never to taste of other 
food them what has passed through the entrails of 
some impure or Savage Animal. Hence their whole 
lives are passed (like Mr. Law s amongst his Ascetics) 
in Woods and Forests, far removed from the converse 
of mankind. 

And now, to turn back to our FREETHINKER. 
As professed an Adorer as he would be thought of 
his Sovereign Mistress, REASON, we shall see, that 
the modern Infidel, like the Pagans of old, when their 
Gods proved unkind, aan himself, on occasion, treat 
his favourite IDOL with the utmost ignominy and con 
tempt ; for as one of the most ingenuous of this holy 
Brotherhood has freely confessed, When Reason is 
against a Man, a Man will always be against Reason f. 

They had so long boasted of the Power of this 
their favourite Idol, They had so loudly trumpeted 
the virtue of her Orient beam for driving away those 
Phantoms conjured up by Revelation, in the dark Re 
gions of Superstition, that the able and sober Divine 
thought it high time to check their impertinent triumphs ; 
and shew the World, On which side REASON had 
declared herself. In order to this, they inferred and 
illustrated (defecated from the dross of the SCHOOLS) 
the invincible arguments of their Predecessors in sup 
port of Revelation ; to which they added large and 
noble accessions of their own. What was now to be 
done? The Deist could not directly degrade that 
Reason which he had already inthroned. Yet finding 
Her in this service^ he thought he had a right to in 
sinuate that she was no better than she should be; 
* Tavernlcr, f Hobbef. 

and 



Chap. II.] O F G R A C E. 437 

and had, like other common Prostitutes, changed her 
name, and affected to be called POLEMIC DIVINITY. 
It must be confessed, that the unguarded manner 
in carrying on Theologic controversy had subjected it 
to much deserved censure. This, joined to the sort 
of Learning employed in divers of the more early 
defences of Religion, where, both the fashion and 
standard smelt strongly of the barbarous form and 
base alloy of the SCHOOLS, gave them a large handle 
to run down all the defences that followed. Some 
parts of POLEMIC DIVINITY, appeared, on their 
Principles, to be trifling ; other parts bore hard upon 
their Conclusions ; so they took advantage of what 
was faulty in itself, and sought advantage of what 
appeared impertinent to them, to ridicule the whole. 
Hence Polemic Divinity became the whetstone of their 
wit, and the constant Butt of their malice. As the 
credit of Deism advanced, this cant grew familiar, 
and spread itself into the fashionable World. Nor 
could the divine Genius of those Masters of Reason, 
a GROTIUS, or an EPISCOPIUS, a HOOKER, or a 
CHILLI XG WORTH, when once nick-named Polemic 
Divines, hinder them from being enrolled amongst 
Scotistx and Thomists, and the veriest rabble of the 
Schoolmen, by some of the more ignorant or indis 
creet of all Parties. But the thing most to be la 
mented is, to see any well-meaning Clergyman of af 
fected taste and real ignorance, go out of his depth, 
as well as out of his Profession, to exert his small 
talents of ridicule on the same subject, merely for the 
sake of being in the fashion ; and, free from all malice 
as well as wit, treat Polcm tcai Divinity (which, for 
all the hard name, is indeed nothing but a critical 
examination of the doctrines of our Faith) as cava 
lierly as ever did Collins or Tindal, Lords Shuftsbury 

r F 3 OK 



438 THE DOCTRINE [Book III. 

or Bolingbroke. Yet, had these small-dealers in 
second-hand Ridicule but the least adverted on their 
doings, they must have seen the absurdity as well as 
misehicf of so unwcighed and wanton a conduct. 

Their ADVERSARIES had sufficient provocation, 
and were not without a plausible pretence for their 
quarrel with POLEMIC DIVINITY, whether it were 
employed in supporting Revelation in general against 
the common Enemy, or in defending the Gospel-truths 
against .the errors of Sectaries. 

The PROVOCATION they had received was not 
small. The Friends of Revelation having a Religion 
to defend, which \yas founded on the Authority of a 
Divine Messenger, who appealed to Miracles per 
formed, and to Prophecies fulfilled, They supposed 
the most simple and natural method was to prove the 
truth of this Religion, as all other human transactions 
are proved, by FACTS. This was at length so in 
vincibly performed, that their Enemies were forced 
to have recourse to their favourite Deity, REASON, 
to undo the knot, and free them from their Embarras. 
Her power, they had long objected to believers, as 
the only barrier against Superstition ; and now was 
the time to press it home. " You urge us \\\\\\ facts, 
say they, and the testimony of Antiquity, Supports 
too slender to bear the unnatural load of Revelation. 
A thing impossible in itself, as it contradicts the esta 
blished order of Providence : a thing impossible under 
the Bible- representation of it, as several passages in 
that Book directly oppose our common notices of God s 
Attributes. \Vouid you have us give credit to your 
fond notions of Revelation, let us see you support it 
on our common principles of Philosophy, natural, 
dialectic, arid metaphysical. When you have done 
this, we shall be satisfied, for on these principles only 

wijl 



Chap. II.] OF GRACE. 439 

will REASON allow us to submit." This was what 
they pretended to expect; and Divines took them at 
their word ; and immediately entered upon, and soon 
completed a defence of Revelation, on this new pre 
scribed method of proof. How effectually, the pre 
varication of their Adversaries, of which I am going 
to speak, amply evinces. For no sooner was that 
done which they had so vainly represented as im 
possible, than they changed their tone, and now at 
tempted to ridicule it as a very impertinent achieve 
ment. " It is astonishing (says the Goliah of their 
" party) how Divines could take so much silly pains 
" to establish mystery on metaphysics, revelation on 
" philosophy, and matters of fact on abstract Reason- 
" ing. Religion, such as the Christian, which ap- 
" peals to facts, must be proved as all other tacts 
" that pass for authentic are proved. If they are 
" thus proved, the Religion will prevail without the 
" assistance of so much profound Reasoning*." This 
was what the learned Divine got for his pains ! not 
only to have his Compliance lunched at, but, what is 
the common attendant on Ridicule, to have it falsi 
fied. Divines, we see, are represented as applying 
their metaphysics, philosophy, and .profound reasoning, 
to Prophecies, on^ iM trades. I low gross the misre 
presentation ! They had more wit, they had more 
honesty, than to take that silly pains. They employed 
their Philosophy as became such Masters of Reason, 
not to matters of fact, but of right. It was pretended 
that God could not give a Revelation; that he could 
not select a Chosen People ; that he could not accept 
a vicarious Atonement : And against these bold asser 
tions, the Christian Divine directed all the force and 

Lortf Colin gbroke s Letters concerning the Study and Use of 

History, 

j r 4 evidence 



440 THE DOCTRINE [Book III. 

evidence of TRUE PHILOSOPHY. With what success, 
a. better posterity shall tell with gratitude. This is 
the spite, I meant, which Unbelievers bear to that 
part of Polemic Divinity, which concerns the Being 
and Nature of Revelation. 

The PLAUSIBLE PRETENCE they had to ridicule 
and contemn the rest, which is employed in settling 
and adjusting the various MODES of Religion, comes 
next to bt> considered. These men holding Religion 
itself to be visionary and fantastic, laughed, and na 
turally enough, to see such a bustle made about its 
modes ; which, on their ideas, was a dispute, about a 
Nothing once removed. 

But now, to see the Friends of Revelation disposed 
to laugh with them, and to ridicule either one or other 
of these pans of Polemic Divinity, is not amongst 
the least of those absurd perversities, in which common 
life, at present, so much abounds. For is that which 
makes our Hope not ashamed, and supports the Faith 
which is counted for righteousness, is that, 1 say, the 
natural, the reasonable object of a Christian mans 
contempt? But as this latter part is more generally 
known by the name of Polemic Divinity, and is the 
more usual topic of fashionable ridicule, it may be 
proper to add a word or two on the extreme folly of 
imitating the airs of our Adversaries, on this occasion. 
We have observed that the Freethinker was not with 
out some excuse in laughing at this part of religious 
Controversy : since, on his ideas, it was disputing about 
the modes of a non-entity. But the Christian Divine 
takes his FAITH for a Reality; and therefore can 
never deem the modes of it to be indifferent; but 
must hold, that, of the various opinions arising from 
thence, some, with their truths, may be useful, and 
some, with their errors, hurtful to Society : So that 
1 8 when, 



Chap. III.] OF GRACE. 44l 

when, about these modes, Churches differ, they be 
come as reasonably the subject of serious enquiry, 
as any other real entities whatsoever ; and have their 
importance in proportion to their good or bad inim* 
ence on Truth and Virtue. In a word, POLI-.MIC 
DIVINITY is, in the fancy of a Libertine, a squabble 
for preference between two Falsehoods; in which, 
there is room enough for ridicule : liut on the Prin 
ciples of a Believer, it is a contest between Truth and 
Falsehood ; in which, there is nothing to be laughed 
at, though much to be lamented. 



CHAP. III. 

BUT there was never yet evfrawrance, either of 
UNBELIEVER or FANATIC, whici; the over-zealous 
Advocate of Religion and sober Piety hath not un 
happily opposed by a contrary, and frequently by as 
mischievous an extreme. 

We have seen how unwarily some of them have 
been drawn in to depreciate and to degrade HUMAN 
REASON* when their Adversaries had too extravagant 
ly advanced it. They have, at other times, advanced 
it as extravagantly, when their Adversaries were in an 
humour to vilify and disgrace it. 

To understand what I mean, wo must go a little 
back in the History of Fanatic tun: And They, whom 
this matter most concerns, will need no other proof 
of the folly of such a conduct than what arises from 
the historical detection ot it. 

The REDEMPTION OP MANKIND by the death of 
Christ, and the SACRIFICE of himsdf upon the Cross, 
together with its consequent Doctrine of JUSTJFIC A* 



442 Tim DOCTH 1 N i: r l^ok III. 

iro\ it FAITH ALOITE, irene the gred d o,pei-prin- 

< ipli , on which PKOII .YI VMS.M v.,r founded, (HI tlic 
in t :<-neial S -paration horn tiie Church of Home: 
hy some, perhaps, earn* d too far, in their xral lor 
^tlin" it. ;il. ;i mortal di tance from the 1 tipi.xh Doc- 
tiitie. 4 A/c/v/.v ; tin: ENmtaniC fCblMH amOO^t U l;<ii;^ 
made on ;i. prel.c-nce th;it t.hef^h irrh ol Kni .l.uid linri 
not recedrd i;u enough liorn Route. llovve.vei , \n-\\\ 
( iu, pel l i inr-iplf -,, they were held to he the h;id"e ul 
tnif: I l -t -.t-juvi .in hy ;ill : When t.lir: { < init;jns (first 
rhiven hy I ei ,i cnlion hoin i e!r,>ioir, into civil Faction, 
;itid hy th? \t l ;i -t.ion , he;ited, on hol.h sidr-s, into 
I jj! 1 n) eiuiied the doriiiiK o\ .hi.\ii//c(/lion, by 

I tul n alone inio a d;in; eroi!S and iinpui-r; Antluomi- 
tinlun: For it is of the very nature ol Knthn i,i \\\ to 
iun all Itfl notion to exlier^- ,. r j he, speculation \\as 

.1 ;ii!.cr rediir- d to pra tice, hy inr an , (>1 l :a; I n.i 
v. iiieh a!-\ a\ \ ini (6 I it elf with I Jit.hii ia .in, \\ \\( n 
the l^tnt Uit hccom Cl Igcd in 1 olilir:,. 1 he, con-. 

ions ulii( h ensued are well l.nown : And no small 
j-.hare oi t!i ,n ha h-en a iCI ihed to this impious ahuse 
of the ihrtiinr ol .lii.\lijic:itioti In/ l\ulli tilum: ; lirst, 
hv (!;,, ruatii!" MoKAi.nv, and then hy <//S//C//.Y///<_ : 
^itli it. 

VVlii i) the COVSTMI i io\ \\,j; rr tored, and had 
lnou jht into ri .-.dil tho i /. I aiihd Divines \\Jiom 
the madii s i,\ tlic pn rrdin r time :-; had di iven into 

oh.scni it /, the Church d England, still smarting with 

Ihe uonnds it. had received I rojn the ulniM oi" the 
:t (io:,j>el p! ineiples (/i I- AITH, very u i ely l;ihoin - 
cd to rCAtOrC MoitAi.rrv, the other r::,ential part of 
lh. Chris i.in S -.-tem, to its Rights in the joint direc 
tion oi the l \iilhnil. Heine, tlic encoiira;jemrnt thn 
Church pave to those nuhle I )\ ,,c(,urses, uliicli did 
.,IM!I credit to Religion, in th j licciitiuii-S times oi 



Chap. Ill] OF GRACE. 443 

Charles the Second, composed by these learned and 
pious men, whom Zealots abused by the nickname of 
LATITUDINARIAN Divines. Bui the reputation they 
acquired by so effectually suppressing these rank Seeds 
of Fanaticism, made their Successors ambitious of 
sharing with them in the same honours : a laudable 
ambition ! but men have ever a vain passion for im 
proving upon those who went before. The Church 
was now triumphant; the Sectaries were humbled; 
sometimes oppressed ; always regarded with an eve of 
jealousy and aversion ; till at length this Gospel-prin 
ciple of FAITH came to be esteemed by many, as 
Fanatical: And they, who understood its true" Ori 
ginal, found so much difficulty in adjusting the distinct 
llights of GRACE and MORALITY, that, by the time 
this Century commenced, things were come to such a 
pass (MORALITY was advanced so high, and FAITH 
so frittered into nonsense), thuC. a new definition of 
our Religion, in opposition to its Founders, and un 
known to its early Followers, was grown to be the 
fashionable tenet of the times : and Christianity, which 
till now had been understood as but coeval with RE- 
DEMPTIOX, was henceforth to be esteemed as old as 
the CREATION : an eminent Divine having, in a 
public Discourse, asserted, without circumstance or 
restriction, that Christianity was a rcpublication of 
the Religion of Nature. Thus, between the two 
opposite Parties of Divines, we were, at the same 
time, left without either natural or revealed Religion. 
The one, we see, denied the very being of the natural] 
and the other assured us that the revealed was nothing 
else than that exploded nonentity. 

This REPUBLICATIOX had, in effect, been talked 
of before, by many others of equal reputation: but 
being now explained, and ready to be received as the 

established 



444 THE DOCTRINE [Book III. 

established System, our Adversaries began to think 
it time to check so ridiculous a triumph ; and to dis 
credit Religion (which they have always done with 
much success) on the principles of its Defenders. For 
with the wanton Libertine, 

" It is the sport, to see 

" The Engineer hoist with his own Petar. V 

And one of the Party, an Enemy, equally determined, 
to Grace and Morality, composed that famous Book, 
intitled, Christianity as Old as the Creation, to decry 
all Revelation whatsoever, on this very principle of a 
REPUBLICATION ; so unhappily conceived by modern 
Orthodoxy, as the surest way of evincing the reason 
ableness of the GOSPEL. 

The like Advantage (to put things of a sort together, 
for the better illustration of the Subject), had, about 
the same time, been taken of our indiscretions by 
another of these men ; and as the reasoning of TINDAL 
was directed to depreciate the Work of REDEMPTION, 
so the argument of COLLINS was inforced to insult 
the Character of the REDEEMER. The general body 
of the PROPHECIES which relate to JESUS, were, for 
certain great ends of Providence, so contrived, as to 
have a primary accomplishment in the events of the 
Mosaic Dispensation, and a secondary and final com 
pletion in the birth and ministry and sufferings of 
Jesus the Messiah. But the admirable contrivance of 
divine Wisdom, in giving to those Predictions a pri 
mary and a secondary accomplishment, being either 
soon forgotten, or generally overlooked, it produced 
lar^e swarms of fanciful and fanatic Allegorists, who 
filled the Church with extravagant whimsies equally 
dishonourable to Reason and Religion. Amidst so 
thick a cloud of nonsense, the logical propriety as well 

as 



Chap. III.] OF GRACE. 445 

as moral Jitness of a secondary sense in the Prophecies 
relating to Jesus, being swallowed up and lost, some 
bold and hasty men, ever least qualified to distinguish 
between the use and the abuse of a positive institu 
tion, ventured to condemn all secondary senses, as 
irrational and fanatical ; and finding but few Prophe 
cies which relate to the MESSIAH, in the primary, 
they were forced upon the desperate expedient of 
holding, that the Jews, or other Enemies of Christi 
anity, had adulterated and corrupted the whole body 
of these Prophecies, as they stand at present in our 
Bibles. But no sooner had Mr. Collins got these 
rash Men at this advantage, than he insulted them 
with his Discourse on the Grounds and Reasons of 
the Christian Religion : In which he attempts to over 
throw the Gospel on these two principles : 1st, That 
(by the confession of his Adversaries) & secondary sense 
of Prophecies is irrational and fanatical ; And 2dly, 
That (by the confession of all sober men) the Jews 
had not corrupted or adulterated their Bible. His 
conclusion is, that the Christian Religion stands on 
no solid grounds or reasons; Jesus not having, as he 
pretended, been foretold under the Character of the 
MESSIAH of the Jews. And here, let it be observed, 
that these works of Tindal and Collins, both rising on 
the advantage taken of our follies, are the two most 
artful and desperate attacks on Revelation, that were 
ever made since the times of Celsus and Porphyry. 

I have attempted to give a good Account of Mr. 
Collins s Grounds and Reasons cf the Christian Reli 
gion elsewhere *, by confuting his first Proposition, 
on which the whole attack rises, and shewing the 
logical propriety and moral fitness of SECOND ART 
of Prophecy. I shall hereafter have occasion 

* Divine Legation, Book vi. 5, 6. 

to 



446 THE DOCTRINE [Book IIL 

to do equal justice to Mr. Tindal s Christianity as Old 
as the Creation. For the only effectual way of answer 
ing these > as indeed all others of the like kind, is to 
renounce ail fanciful Systems, and to preserve invio 
late the great Principles of the Mosaic Law and the 
Gospel of Jesus ; Principles which discover themselves, 
and indeed obtrude themselves upon us, on a careful 
study of those two connected Dispensations. When 
these Principles are once forsaken, there is no hurtful 
indiscretion to which the ablest Divines are not sub 
ject ; and of which Unbelievers have not taken ad 
vantage* I shall, from amongst many, select an in 
stance or two, least likely to give offence. The Ad 
vocates of the Church of Rome, to evade the charge 
of Idolatry, with which they are urged by the Re- 
formed, pretend that this crime consists in giving the 
worship, duetto the supreme GOD, to inferior Beings. 
The excellent Bishop Stillingfleet, in opposing this 
subterfuge, attempted to prove, that the most civilized 
Pagans, who are confessed to be Idolaters, did not 
give the honours due to \hefirst Cause to their infe 
rior Gods; Hit first Cause, as he pretends, being 
worshipped by them, as such : An assertion, which, 
if true, would confute all that the Prophets and 
Apostles say concerning the state and condition of the 
Pagan World. Again, the very learned Dr. Prideaux, 
to do honour to his exiled Jens, adopts, from Hyde 
and a rabble of lying Orientalists, the idle fable of a 
Philosophic Zoroaster, the subverter of Idolatry in 
Persia : Little attentive the while, to the more plau 
sible conclusion of Unbelievers, from the same fact; 
who pretend, that these Jews, so prone to Idolatry 
before their Captivity, were instructed during its con 
tinuance, by this Zoroaster, in a better Theology, 
which gave them juster notions of the Divine Nature, 

and 



Chap. III.] OF GRACE. 447 

and consequently, of a Crime that, ever afterwards, they 
held in abhorrence. A conclusion pushed with great 
advantage by Collins and Morgan, on the ground 
thus prepared by Hyde, and further smoothed for 
them by Dr. Prideaux. 

But to go on with our subject, Tindal s Christianity 
as Old as the Creation. 

This terrible advantage taken of a Principle become 
fashionably orthodox, greatly alarmed all serious men; 
and the feeble Answers given to it, on that Principle, 
were so little satisfactory, that a commendable effort 
was made, by some whose Stations supported them 
in the attempt, to bring back the slighted Doctrine 
of REDEMPTION, and to reinstate it in its ancient 
Credit. And a worthy Bishop of London was amongst 
the first to repair the mischief, which the mistaken 
labours of his no less worthy Successor had unwittingly 
occasioned. So that, in a little time, we had regained 
much of the ground that had been lost, and were 
ready to replace the national Faith once ao;ain on its 
old Gospel-foundation ; in spite of the silly pains of 
a very equivocal Divine, who published a Book, in 
opposition to the returning Current, intitled, The 
Scripture Doctrine of Redemption, which was to prove 
that in reality there was no such thing: When the old 
puritan Fanaticism revived under the new name of 
Methodism ; and, as it spread, carried once more (as 
far as the difference of times would allow) those 
Gospel-principles to their old abusive extremes. 

This soon put a stop to the recovery of that middle 
way, in which Grace and Morality are preserved in 
their respective rights: an unhappy disposition now 
appearing in several Opposers of this late revived 
fanaticism, to return back to the old latitudinanan 
excesses. 

And 



448 THE DOCTRINE [Book III, 

And now comes in (I hope, not improperly) the 
Caution, for the sake of which I have given this long 
detail of our former miscarriages, to wain men against 
a repetition of them. 

For these opposed doctrines of a REDEMPTION 
and a REPUBLIC AT ION are not matters of so slight 
moment, that either of them may be taken up, or laid 
down at pleasure, just as we are pressed, on the one 
band, by Infidelity ^ or on the other, by Fanaticism. 

The DocTixiNE OF REDEMPTION, is the primum 
mobile of the Gospel-System. To this the Church 
must steadily adhere, let the storm, against it, beat 
from what quarter it may. It is the first duty of 
the Ministers of Religion, to secure this great Founda 
tion : They may then, with safety, and not with the 
less success, push the Enemies of the Church, the 
Enemies of their Order, nay, even the Enemies of 
their own peculiar opinions, with all the force they 
are able ; but ever, as we say, in subserviency to the 
EVERLASTING GOSPEL, wiiose main Pillar is this 
Doctrine of Redemption. How essential a part it is 
of the Gospel-Economy (interpreted by God s general 
Dispensation, revealed to mankind, of which the 
Gospel-Economy is the completion), and how agree 
able it is to what the best and most received Philo 
sophy teacheth us, concerning the relations between 
the creature and the Creator, shall be considered at 
large in its proper place *. 

I. What better suits the melancholy subject we are 
now- upon, namely, the advantages given to the com 
mon Enemy by those, who, to get rid of some urgent 
difficulty, are apt to forsake their Foundations, will 
be to shew the various and unthought-of mischiefs 

* Divine Legation, JBouk IX 

which 



Chap. III.] OF GRACE. 449 

which arise from the folly of attempting to change the 
nature of the Gospel-Economy from a Redemption of 
Mankind to a Republieation of the Religion of Na- 
tiire. A folly, by which the great Author of our 
Salvation becomes dishonoured, and the Christian 
Faith exposed to the perpetual Insults of Libertines 
and Unbelievers. 

] . For he who considers Jesus only in the light of 
a Republishcr of the Law of Nature, can hardly en 
tertain a higher opinion of the SAVIOUR OF Tin; 
WORLD than some have done of SOCRATES, whom 
Erasmus esteemed an object of devotion, and many 
a better Protestant hath thought to be divinely in 
spired. For was not Socrates, by his preaching up 
moral virtue, and by his dying to bear witness to the 
unity of the Godhead, made, to the Grecian People, 
and (by means of their extended commerce of polite 
ness) to the rest of mankind, Wisdom and Righteous 
ness? And what more was Jesus, though the Apostle 
adds to those two attributes, these two other, of 
Sanctt/icatifm mid Redemption? for, according to the 
principles of this paganized Christianity, his titles of 
MESSIAH and REDEEMER are reduced to mere figu 
rative and accommodated terms, 

2. As this Theology degrades Jesus to the lo\r 
condition of a Grecian Sophist; so it renders his Re 
ligion obnoxious to the insults of every daring Im 
postor. 

He was sent, say these new Doctors of the Church, 
to teach mankind the worship of the true God, and 
the practice of moral righteousness*. 

Tlwg 

* A celebrated Frenchman, who \viitcg on all subjects, and, 

on all, with equal judgment and capacity, knew bU*r, perhaps, 

VOL. VJJI. G c whut 



450 THE DOCTRINE [Book III. 

" This will be readily allowed, replies an understand 
ing MAHOMETAN : And on this very principle, WE 
hold, that when Jesus had dons his office ; and man 
kind had again relapsed, into anti-christian Idolatry 
and Poly theism , as before into Pagan, God sent OUR 
PROPHET, who worked the like sudden and sensible 
reformation in the NORTH-EAST, that your Prophet 
did in the NORTH-WEST." 

And this reply, he makes on the very principles of 
his ALCORAN ; which (with professions of the highest 
veneration for the character of JESUS) denies his pro 
per Divinity, and at the same time, his death on the 
cross. But why, it may be asked, was this aversion to 
the PASSION of One whom the Alcoran makes a Mor 
tal ? For this plain reason : Mahomet, who wanted the 
refinement of our modern Accomviodators, plainly saw 
that the doctrine of REDEMPTION followed the passion ; 
completed the Scheme of Revelation ; and shut out 
all his bold pretences. 

M. Otter, an intelligent Frenchman of the Academy 
Royal of Inscriptions, 8$c. tells us of a conference he 
had with a learned Persian. The Mussulman said, 
They reverenced all our sacred Writings except those 
of St. PAUL qiClh respect ent tons, except 6 Saint 
Paul*. Why this exception? I answer, On the Ma 
hometan Principle, that Christianity is only a repub- 
lication of the Religion of Nature: for St. PAUL is 
full of the doctrine of REDEMPTION ; explains the 

Christian 



he was about than these Divines, when he went further, and 
affirmed, That Christianity is not only no more than the Religion 
of Nature perfected, but that it could not possibly be any more. 
." Notre Religion revelee ii est meme, et nc pouvoit etre, que 
cette Loi naturelle perfectionnee. v Discours sur le Thcisme, par 
M.de Voltaire. 

* Voiage en Turque t en Perse, vol. i. p. 22. 



Chap. III.] OF GRACE. 451 

Christian System by it, and makes the whole Faith 
depend upon it. 

What now has our rational Republisher to oppose to 
this modest Apology for Ismaelism ? 

All he has to say is this, " That Jesus and his Apos 
tles have every where intimated, that the Gospel is the 
last of God s Dispensations; on the terms of which our 
final doom is to be decided : so that all future Preten 
ders to the like Office and Character must needs be 
deemed Impostors." 

But here a DEIST would come in, to take advan 
tage of our distress ; for (as we have said more than 
once) it may be observed alike of all these shifting 
defences, on fanciful, and unscriptural Systems, that 
they only supply new arms to the various Adversaries 
of our Faith ; a Deist, I say, would be ready to reply, 
" That it is indeed true that Jesus hath declared his 
own Mission to be the LAST : but that this is a sly 
contrivance, put in use by every pretended Messenger 
from Heaven, in order to perpetuate his own Scheme, 
and to obviate the danger of an antiquated authority. 
The Impostor, MAHOMET himself, hath done it. He, 
who here obtrudes his armed pretensions upon us, hath 
secured the duration of his sensual Religion by the very 
same expedient : a thing, in his ideas, so much of 
course, that he did not even object to JESUS S use of it, 
who employed it before Him ; and for no other purpose 
than to cut oft* all following pretensions to the like 
Character. On the contrary, He avowed and main 
tained the general truth of the Nazarite s Commission. 
Now (pursues the Deist) a method employed by a con 
fessed Impostor is taken up with an ill grace by the 
defender of true Religion. But I draw a further con 
sequence (says he) against the GOSPEL, from this re- 

G Q 2 presentation 



452 THE DOCTRINE [Book III. 

presentation of Christianity. For if the preaching of 
moral truth and righteousness were the whole of JESUS S 
Character and Office, then his Mission did not answer 
its end, the lasting reformation of mankind, in the 
knowledge of God, and in the practice of Virtue: since 
the world soon fell back again into the state from which 
JESUS had delivered it; as appears from the history 
of the times in which MAHOMET appeared, and the 
advantages he made of that degeneracy." 

II. Thus subjected to the insults and injuries of all 
sorts of Impostors, who set themselves to delude the 
credulous, cither by inventing NEW Revelations or by 
decrying the OLD, do these Rejntbtishcrs expose the 
holy faith of JESUS: that Faith, which, we are told, 
was founded on a rock, impregnable to Men and 
Demons ; to the sophisms of Infidelity, and the pres 
tiges of Imposture ! And so indeed it is, if we will take 
it as we find it ; if we will receive it as it came from 
above ; if we will preserve it pure and entire as it was 
delivered to the Saints, under the idea of THE RE 
DEMPTION OF THE WORLD, BY THE SON OF GoD, 
IX THE VOLUNTARY SACRIFICE OF HIMSELF UPON" 
THE CROSS. 

This secures the Character of JESUS from the insults 
of false Pretenders ; and his GOSPEL from the injuries 
of false lleasoncrs. 

i. For, first of all, if JESUS did, indeed, redeem 
Mankind, .and restore them to their lost Inheritance; 
the scheme and progress of Revelation is completed : 
which beginning at the LAPSE, naturally and neces 
sarily ends in the restoration and recovery of LIFE 
AND IMMORTALITY by the death and passion of our 
Lord. CHRISTIANITY considered in this view (and 
in this view only, does SCRIPTURE give it us to don- 
15 sider) 



Chap, III.] OF GRACE. 

sider) soon detects all the artful pretences of Impos 
ture ; and secures its own honour by virtue of its very 
Essence: the great scene of Providence being now 
closed, in a full completion of its One, regular, entire, 
and eternal purpose. 

2. Secondly, if JESUS did indeed redeem mankind, 
then did he neither preach nor die in vain : it not being 
in man s power, with all his malice and pcrverseness, 
to defeat or make void the great purpose of his 
Coining. For though one part of his Mission ^ accord 
ing to Paul) was to instruct the world inJl Mom* 
and Righteousness, which it was in man s power to 
forget and neglect ; yet, what (Paul tells us) is chiefly 
essential in his Character, and peculiar to his Office, 
the Sitnctification and Redemption of the World, Man 
could not frustrate nor render ineffectual : For it is 
not in man s power to make that to be undone which 
is once Jone and perfected. 

The fasliilious Caviller f therefore hath employed his 
pains to little purpose in attempting to discredit Reve 
lation from this topic, The moral slate of the world, 
before and since the coming oj Christ. For, besides 
what one might venture to affirm, that, when die com 
parison is fully and impartially scrutinized, the advan 
tage will be found to lie on the side of our Religion: 
yet, supposing the Truths preached by JESUS, and the 
Assistance given by the Holy SPIRIT, have not much 
improved the general morals of mankind ; How does 
this tend to the discredit of the Gospel ? unless it can 
be shewn that the Gospel hath no natural tendency to 
make men better. But this is so desperate an under 
taking, that, I believe, Infidelity will hardly be per 
suaded to engage in it. Indeed the contrary is so true, 
that, (as I have shewn elsewhere) when you lav toge- 

* i Cor. i. 30. t Lord Bolingbroke. 

ther 



454 THE DOCTRINE [Book III. 

ther the state of PAGAN and CHRISTIAN Morals, one 
manifest and essential difference is found between them; 
whieh is this, That in the Gentile world, men often 
acted wrong UPON PRINCIPLE ; in the Christian 
always AGAINST PRINCIPLE*. Now, not to insist 
upon the necessary restraint this must needs be upon 
Vice ; it plainly demonstrates that the NATURAL TEN 
DENCY of the Gospel is to make men virtuous : And, 
to draw them by a stronger attraction, did not suit the 
genius of a rational Religion, whose objects were free 
Agents. 

But the proper answer to this idle cavil arises from 
the explanation given above. To Instruct the world in 
Wisdom and Righteousness was but the secondary end 
of Christ s Mission. The FIRST and primary, was to 
become its SANCTIFICATION and REDEMPTION : 
That must needs t)e common to every Revelation 
coming from God ; This is peculiar to the Christian : 
and this, as we have shewn, cannot possibly be frus 
trated, or rendered ineffectual. 

To conclude from what hath been said : As we 
should not affect to pry into the nature of those things 
which God hath been pleased to withhold from our 
search, and to cover with the sacred veil of Mystery; 
so neither should we reject a Truth, expressly deli 
vered, because we may not fully comprehend the whole 
reason on which it stands. In a word, as we should 
not venture to go on where the silence of Scripture 
directs us to stop ; so neither should we presume to 
stop where, with so loud a voice, it commandeth us to 
go on. 

The sum of all then is this : REASON biddeth us to 
keep a IIEAN : The great Philosopher informeth us 

Div. Leg. Book iv. $ 2. 

that 



Chap. III.] OF GRACE. 

that NATURE is not able to keep a MEAX *. What 
remains but that we fly to GRACE, which, the greater 
Apostle assures us, is able : for, the Spirit helpetk cur 
infirmities f. Nor will there be any clanger (when, in 
such a disposition, we apply to this Guide of truth) 
of abusing its credit by fanatical extremes; for. to 
establish the heart with Grace, the same Apostle in 
forms us, is the only way to prevent our being carritd 
about with the divers and strange Doctrine* of De 
ceivers . 

* Natura moduin tencre nescia cst. BAC. 
tRom. viii. 26. ; Heb. xiii. . 



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