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N  TME  CUSTODY  OF  THE 

BOSTON     PUBLIC  LIBRARY. 


SHELF    N° 
V  .-  "ATM  "" 


THE 

WORKS 


OF    THE 

D.  D.    L.  L.  D. 

LAtE  PRESIDENT   OF  THE  college   At  PRINCETON,  HEW-JERSEY* 

TO  WHICH  IS   i'BEFlZED 

An  Account  of  the  Author's  Life,  in  a  Sermon  occafioned 

by  his  Death,  by  the 

Rev.  Dr.  JOHN  RODGERS, 

OF  New  York. 


In  three  volumes. 


VOL.  IIL 


Printed  and  publiflied  by  William  W.  Woodward,  N®.  17, 
Chefnut,  near  Front  Street. 


1809. 
ICOFT  RIGHT  SECURED.^ 


«aMMoooooo«9waMaeeMft>MeeMeNe«iDMeoM  MM  mm  eese  OPM  OOM  e6eo  tMa  eMd  oM*  teeo  MM  eM«  moo  ooo» 

c«00  MM  ODW  eOCO  tOOO  0009  COM  0000  MM  OO«0  OOOO   COM  COM  OOW  COM  0009  OOM  COM  OOM  OOM  0000  OOM  0009  COM  0009 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

An  inquiry  into  the  Scripture  meaning  of  Charity  9 


A  ferious  inquiry  into  the  nature  and  effedts  of  the 


25 


Stage             •            w            «  1 

A  letter  refpedling  Play- Adtors           -  -             94 

Ecclefiaftical  Chara6leriftics          -           -  .         10  r 
A  ferious  apology  for  Ecclefiaflical  Charafteriflics       165 

The  hiftory  of  a  Corporation  of  Servants  -           213 

Lectures  on  Moral  Philofophy            -  -           269 

Ledures  on  Eloquence             -           -  -         375 

Letters  on  Education            -             .  .           497 

Eflay  on  Money           -           -           .  ,             ^33 

Letters  on  Marriage          -             -  .               j^j 

Pafloral  Letter        -             -             -  ,             ^^(^ 

Recantation  of  Benjamin  Towne         -  *        607 


u  1. 


C   9   3 

MM  OOM  edo*  ooco  oeeo  ooo<t  oooo  eaoo  co:a  ooso  ocoa  oooo  ooco  ooex)  oooo  oeeq  esoo  Ma)  Ton  sscs  sooo  coos  :3X  oso?  aos* 
ooob  niio  ooeo  oooo  ooao  ceo?  0030  coca  occo  coo3  csoo  coos  oooo  oooo  oooo  oooo  oooo  oooo  osoi  ooca  sooo  cooo  moc  oooa  ooos 

A  N 

INQUIRY 

INTO    THE 

SCRIPTURE      MEANING 

OF 

C    H    A     R     I    T    Y. 


IN  a  note  m  the  fermon  oii  A6ls  iv.  12.  "  Neither  i^ 
*'  there  falvation  in  any  other,"  the  reader  will  iind, 
that  I  have  intimated  two  thingvS  :  i.  That  if  a  favorable 
judgment  of  the  opinions  of  others,  be  the  fcripture  mean- 
ing of  charity^  then  certainly  fome  bounds  mull  be  fet  to 
it ;  and  it  muft  be  praife  or  blame  worthy,  according  to 
the  cafes  in  which  it  is  exercifed.  2.  That  I  am  inclined 
to  think,  that  this  is  not  the  meaning  of  the  word  in  fcrip- 
ture ;  but  that  it  means  an  ardent  and  unfeigned  love  to 
others,  and  a  defire  of  their  welfare,  temporal  and  eternal; 
and  may  very  well  confill  with  the  ftrongeil:  abhorrence  of 
their  wicked  principles,  and  the  deepeO;  concern  for  their 
dangerous  flate.  At  the  fame  time  it  was  hinted,  that 
this  fubje(?l:  deferved  a  more  diftin^l  and  full  illuflration. 
I  was  fufficiently  aware,  even  at  the  time  of  writing,  that 
this  declaration  would  bring  down  upon  me  the  high  dif- 
pleafure  of  certain  perfons.  And  fo  indeed  it  happened, 
to  fuch  a  degree,  that  fome,  according  to  their  wonted 
candor,  and  (in  their  own  fenfe)  moil  charitable  interpre- 
Noi..  III.  B 


lo  All  Inquiry  into  the 

tation,  have  affirmed,  that  I  had  in  that  pafiage,  openly 
declared  againft  charity.  This  hath  induced  me,  on  no- 
tice of  a  fecond  edition  being  intended,  to  offer  a  few  re- 
flexions on  this  fubjefl ;  which  I  hope  fhall  be  conduced 
in  as  cool  and  critical  a  manner,  as  can  in  reafon  be  de- 
fired,  tliat  I  may  not  offend  againft  charity,  even  when 
writing  upon  the  fubjedl. 

Let  me  begin  by  fettling  precifelythefubjeclof  the  inqui- 
ry. It  will,  or  at  leaR  ought  to  be,  acknowledged,  that 
with  many  the  current  meaning  of  the  word  chanty  is, 
to  have  a  favorable  opinion  of  the  fentiments  of  others, 
who  are  fuppofed  to  differ  from  us  ;  that  is  to  fay  (for  it  is 
not  very  eafy  to  define  it  clearly),  to  think,  that  they  are 
innocently  miilaken  in  judgment,  and  that  they  have  as 
honeflly  inquired  after  truth  as  ourfelves ;  and  therefore  to 
conclude,  that  as  perfons  truly  fmcere,  and  ailing  accord- 
ing to  their  light,  they  lliall  meet  with  the  final  acceptance 
of  God.  That  this  is  the  meaning  with  many,  if  it  fhould 
be  denied,  I  prove  from  the  following  circumflance,  that 
charity  in  fentiment,  or  charity  in  general  (except  when 
it  is  taken  in  a  limited  fenfe,  asfignifying  bounty  to  the 
^:)Oor)  is  always  applied  to  thofe  who  differ  from  us,  and 
never  to  thofe  who  agree  with  us ;  and  indeed  it  is  about 
the  difference  that  it  is  fuppofed  to  be  exercifed. 

I.  Now,  tht  first  thing  I  obferve  upon  this  is,  that  if 
the  above  be  the  fcripture  meaning  of  charity,  then  cer- 
tainly fome  bounds  muff  be  fet  to  it ;  and  it  muft  be  praife 
or  blame  worthy  according  to  the  cafes  in  which  it  is  ex- 
ercifed. I  make  this  fuppofition,  becaufe  though  it  is 
propofed  in  the  courfe  of  thefe  remarks,  to  fliow,  that  the 
above  is  not  the  fcripture  meaning  of  the  word  ;  yet  there 
is  really,  within  certain  limits,  a  duty  of  this  kind  pre- 
fcribed  to  us  in  fcripture,  but  never  called  charity.  The 
duty  I  mean  is  mutual  forbearance,  and  guarding  againfl 
rafli  judgment ;  but  it  is  remarkable,  that  neither  in  the 
defcription  of  this  duty,  nor  in  the  arguments  urging  to 
the  pradlice  of  it,  is  the  word  charity^  or  the  neceffity  of 
charity,  ever  once  introduced*.     The  proper  objects  of 

*   I  do  not  kiiovv  whether  I  fhould  call  it  an  exception  from  tliis, 
that  in  cue  pafTage,  when  the  Apoillc  Paul  is  ll-eaking  of  the  oppofite 


Scripture  mea?i'mg  of  Charity,  x i 

forbearance  are  matters  of  indifference,  or  rather  matters 
of  comparatively  fmall  moment;  and  the  fm  of  rafli  judg- 
ing confifls  in  believing  things  to  be  of  more  moment 
than  they  are,  and  attributing  outward  actions  or  expref- 
fions  to  bad  motives  or  principles,  without  neceffity.  I 
fay,  without  neceffity ;  becaufe  it  is  allowed  by  every  ju- 
dicious and  accurate  writer  upon  rafli  judging,  that  a 
perfon  cannot  be  chargeable  with  this  fm,  merely  for 
thinking  ill  of  another's  temper  or  praftice,  upon  clear 
and  irrefillible  evidence.  To  do  otherwife,  in  many 
cafes,  is  either  wholly  impoffible,  or  argues  a  weaknel's 
of  underflanding ;  which  cannot  be  the  obje6l  of  appro- 
bation, nor  confequently  of  imitation. 

Let  us  therefore  fuppofe,  that  this  duty  of  forbearance, 
which  indeed  I  take  to  be  wholly  diftind  in  its  nature, 
is  the  charity  fo  llrongly  recommended,  and  fo  highly  ap- 
plauded in  fcripture,  and  that  it  is  to  be  exercifed  with 
regard  to  the  opinions  of  others.  In  that  cafe  it  muft 
have  certain  bounds,  for  the  following  reafons. 

I.  If  it  were  otherwife,  we  fliould  then  either  want  a 
meaning  for  many  declarations  and  precepts  in  fcripture  ; 
or,  which  is  worfe,  fhould  perceive  them  to  be  evidently 
abfurd  and  ill  founded.  That  I  may  not  tire  the  reader, 
I  fliall  not  adduce  the  tenth  part  of  what  is  faid  on  this 
fubje6l  in  fcripture  ;  but  muft  beg  of  him  to  w^eigh  the 
following  paffages,  and  to  make  fome  reflections  on  their 
manife6l  purpofe :  Jude  v.  3,4,  "  Beloved,  when  I  gave 
"  all  diligence  to  write  unto  you  of  the  common  falva- 
-'  tion,  it  was  needful  for  me  to  write  unto  you,  and  ex- 
^'  hort  you,  that  ye  fhould  earneftly  contend  for  the  faith 
"  which  was  once  delivered  unto  the  faints.  For  there 
*'  are  certain  men  crept  in  unawares,  who  were  before  of 

fins,  of  judging  others  on  the  one  hand,  oi-defpiilng  thein  on  the  other, 
hi  introduces  walking  charitably.  Rut  It  is  in  a  ferife  quite  oppofitc  to 
what  it  would  have  been  ufed  in  by  one  pleading  for  the  modern  cha- 
rity. It  is  not  the  man  who  judges  rafldy  that  he  charges  with  uii- 
charitablenefs,  but  him  who  defpifeth  his  weak  brother,  and  is  at  no 
pains  to  avoid  giving  offence  :  Rom,  xiv.  15.  "  Bat  if  thy  brother  be 
*'  grieved  with  thy  meat^  now  walked  thou  not  charitably,  Dcifirov 
f  not  him  Vr  jth  thy  meat  for  ^Yl;om  Chrill  di^-'i^/' 


12  ^n  Inquiry  into  the 

"  old  ordained  to  this  condemnation,  ungodly  men,  turn- 
*'  ing  the  grace  of  our  God  into  lafciviouiiiels,  and  deny:- 
*'  ing  the  only  Lord  God,  and  our  Lord  Jefus  Chrift." — 
Here  I  think  is  plainly  a  duty  with  regard  to  opinions, 
altogether  different  from  that  of  forbearance.  The  one 
requires  us  not  fo  much  as  to  judge  our  brethren ;  the 
other  requires  us  to  contend  earncfdy  with  them.  The 
one  fuppofes  the  trifling  difference  to  be  wholly  buried  ; 
the  other  implies,  that  it  fhould  be  kept  clearly  in  view, 
and  all  pofuble  pains  taken  to  fupport  the  truth,  and  to 
refute  the  error.  The  one  fuppofes  entire  peace  and  union  ; 
the  other  implies  a  firm  and  rcfolute  oppofition,  fo  as  to 
come  to  no  terms  which  imply  confent  or  approbation. 
The  phrafeology  through  the  whole  paifage  teaches  us  to 
interpret  it  as  I  have  done  ;  "  There  are  certain  men," 
fays  he,  ''  crept  in  unawares ;"  plainly  fignifying,  that 
if  they  had  not  crept  in  fecretly,  they  would  not,  or  ought 
not  to  have  been  fuffered  to  come  in  openly.  Now,  if 
charity  and  forbearance  be  the  fame  thing,  here  are  fome 
perfons  defcribed,  whom  we  are  not  to  forbear,  and  confe- 
quently  for  whom  we  are  to  have  no  charity  :  therefore  it 
muft  have  fome  limitation.  Let  it  be  as  extenfive  as  you 
will,  it  is  not  boundlefs. 

Titus  i.  10,  II,  13.  "For  there  are  many  unruly  and 
^'  vain  talkers  and  deceivers,  efpecially  they  of  the  cir^ 
"  cumcifion  :  whofe  mouths  muft  be  ftopped,  who  fubvert 
"  whole  houfes,  teaching  things  which  they  ought  not,  for 

"  filthy  lucre's  fake. Wherefore,  rebuke  them  Iharply, 

''  that  they  may  be  found  in  the  faith.''  Now,  let  me  afk 
any  unprejudiced  reader,  whether  fharp  rebuke  be  not  a 
very  different  thing  from  forbearance  ?  How  can  you  re- 
buke thofe  whom  you  may  not  fo  much  as  judge  ?  or  why 
ihould  )^ou  attempt  to  make  them  found  in  the  faith,  if 
they  are  already  received  of  God  ?  as  it  is  expreilbd,  Rom. 
xiv.  3.  Befides,  what  is  the  meaning  of  fubverting  whole 
houfes  ?  and  of  ftopping  the  mouths  of  the  falfe  teachers,  to 
prevent  or  remedy  this  fubverfion  I  I  n  the  fame  epiftle,  ch  ap. 
lii.  10.  the  apoftle  fays, ''A  man  that  is  an  heretic  after  the  firll 
''  and  fecond  admonition,  rejecl."  Does  not  this  fuppofe, 
jJmt  it  is  poffiblc  for  a  man  to  be  a  heretic  :     Does  not  the 


Scripture  Meaning  of  Charity,  i;g 

apoftle  here  ordain  a  fentence  of  expiilfion  to  be  pafled 
agaiiift  him,  after  the  pains  taken  to  reclaim  him  appear 
to  be  fruitlefs  ?  It  is  plain,  therefore,  that  if  charity  be 
the  fame  with  forbearance,  it  mufl:  have  limits  ;  for  if 
every  body  mufl  be  forborn,  then  certainly  nobody  (jan  be 
expelled. 

I  mud  not  here  pafs  by  an  allonifhing  interpretation 
put  by  fome,  and  men  of  learning  too,  upon  the  following 
verfe  of  the  fame  chapter  :  ''  Knowing  that  he  that  is  fuch, 
*'isfubvertedand  finneth,beingcondemnedof  himfelf;"  that 
is,  fay  fome,  no  man  is  an  heretic  in  the  fenfe  of  this  pafl'age, 
but  who  is  felf-condenincd,  or  acting  contrary  to  his  own 
conviction ;  fo  that  he  mud  be  rejected,  not  for  the  error 
of  his  judgment,  but  for  the  obflinacy  and  depravation  of  his 
heart.  I  do  not  remember  to  have  feen  any  ftronger  inilance 
of  the  power  of  prejudice,  than  giving  fuch  a  fenfe  to  the 
word  self -condemned.  If  any  man  can  really  conceive  a 
cafe  in  his  own  mind,  of  a  heretic  obitinately  perfiiling  in 
his  error,  and  fuiFering  for  it,  in  oppofition  to  his  own  in- 
ward conviction,  and  at  the  fame  time  this  circumftance 
clearly  afcertained  as  the  foundation  of  his  fentence,  I  wifh 
he  would  teach  me  how  to  conceive  it :  at  prefent  it  feems 
to  me  utterly  impoffible.  If  any  perfon  thus  fpeaks  lies 
in  hypocrify,  is  it  to  be  fuppofed,  that  he  will  confefs  it  ? 
and  if  he  do  not  confefs,  how  is  it  poflible  to  prove  it  ? 
The  plain  m.eaning  of  being  condemned  of  himfelf,  in  this 
pafTage,  is,  that  his  errors  are  fo  contradictory  to  the  other 
articles  of  his  faith,  fuch  an  abjuration  of  his  former  pro- 
feffion,  and  generally  tend  fo  much  to  immorality  in 
practice,  that  he  is  condemned  as  it  were  out  of  his  own 
month. 

In  the  2d  epifile  of  John,  the  apoflle  fays,  ver.  9, 10,  11. 
"  V/hofoever  tranfgrefleth,  and  abideth  not  in  the  doClrine 
"'  of  Chrift,  hath  not  God  :  he  that  abideth  in  the  doCtrine 
''  of  Chrift,  he  hath  both  the  Father  and  the  Son.  If  there 
"  come  any  unto  you,  and  bring  not  this  doCtrine,  receive 
*'  him  not  into  your  houfe  ;  neither  bid  hini  God  fpeed  : 
''  for  he  that  biddeth  him  God  fpeed,  is  partaker  of  his  evil. 
*'  deeds."  I  Hiall  not  Ihiy  to  examine  nicely  the  import 
©f  not  receiving  fuch  a  one  into  our  houfe,  and  not  bidding 


14  ^n  Inquiry  i7ito  the 

him  God  fpeed.  It  is  fufEcient  for  my  purpofe,  that  no 
fenfe  can  be  put  upon  it  low  enough  to  make  it  agreeable 
to  the  treatment  we  ought  to  give  to  our  brethren  whom 
we  are  forbidden  to  judge.  Thefe  we  are  to  receive,  as 
Chrifl:  hath  received  them,  and  to  keep  the  unity  of  the 
Spirit  in  the  bond  of  peace. 

To  all  thefe  I  only  add,  without  any  reflection  upon  it, 
the  reproof  of  Chrift  to  the  church  of  Pergamos :  Rev.  ii. 
14.  '^  But  I  have  a  few  things  againft  thee,  becaufe  thou 
"  haft  there  them  that  hold  the  do6lrine  of  Balaam,  who 
*'  taught  Balac  to  caft  a  ilumbling-block  before  the  children 
*'  of  Ifrael,  to  eat  things  facrificed  unto  idols,  and  to  com- 
^^  mit  fornication.  So  hall  thou  alfo  them  that  hold  the 
"  doClrine  of  the  Nicolaitans,   which  thing  I  hate." 

2.  If  charity  be  the  fame  with  forbearance,  it  muft 
have  limits,  or  it  would  be  the  ftrongeft  impeachment  of 
divine  wifdom  and  goodnefs,  in  not  giving  marks  fuffici- 
ently  clear  to  diftinguifh  truth  from  falfehood.  If  we  are 
to  entertain  a  favorable  opinion  of  the  fentiments  and  ftate 
of  others,  it  muft  be  entirely  founded  on  the  fuppofition, 
that  they  have  inquired  with  honefty  and  impartiality ; 
and  that  they  are  not  blinded  by  prejudice  or  corrupt  paf- 
fions.  This  I  fuppofe  v/ill  be  readily  allowed ;  becaufe  it 
is  the  ufual  v/ay  of  fpeaking  or  writing  on  the  ibbje6t. 
*  They  may  be  miftaken,'  it  is  often  faid,  '  but  without 
'  their  fault :  they  may  have  freely  and  impartially  inqui- 
'  red,  and  yet  may,  after  all,  think  differently  with  equal 
'  fuicerity.'  This,  I  contend,  can  only  hold  in  matters  of 
fmall  moment,  and  in  themfeives  of  a  doubtful  nature  ; 
and  in  thefe,  the  obfervation  is  juft,  and  correfponds  with 
reafon,  fcripture,  and  experience.  But  in  truths  of  the 
higheft  moment,  if  there  are  any  fuch  at  all,  to  fuppofe  that 
men  equally  fmcere  and  impartial,  ma}/,  notwithiianding, 
have  fentiments  dire611yoppolite,  fee'ms  to  me  an  impeach- 
ment of  divine  wifdom.  Hov/  can  it  be,  unlefs  the  evi- 
dences for  and  againft  them,  be  pretty  equally  balanced  ? 
How  is  the  judgment  determined  at  all,  but  by  a  fort  of 
compared  rat'io^  to  fpeak  in  the  language  of  mathemati- 
cians, of  the  outward  evidence,  and  the  prepolfeirion  of 
the  mind  ?    Strong  prepoiTeffions  v/ill  account  for  my  opi- 


Scripture  Meanhig  of  Charity.  t$ 

nion,  however  abfurd ;  but  if  two  perfons  of  equal  capaci- 
ty, and  equal  integrity,  draw  oppofite  conclufions  on  any 
queflion,  it  muft  certainly  arife  from  the  doubtfulnefs  of 
the  quellion  itfelf*  Now,  if  there  be  any  truths  of  mo- 
ment not  attended  with  fuflicient  evidence,  how  can  we 
acquit  or  juflify  the  conduct  of  Providence  ?  There  does 
not  feem  to  me  to  be  any  alternative ;  but  we  muft  lay  the 
blame  either  upon  the  evidence,  or  the  mind ;  that  is  to 
fay,  in  other  words,  it  muft  be  put  to  the  charge  either  of 
God  or  man. 

3.  If  charity  is  the  fame  thing  with  forbearance,  it  muft 
have  fome  limits  ;  otherwife  the  value  of  truth  itfelf  is 
abfolutely  annihilated.     If  I  am  to  believe  a  man  in  as 
fafe  a  ftaie,  and  as  much  accepted  of  God,  in  one  opinion 
as  another,  upon  all  fubjefts,  it  is  plain,  not  only  that 
every  truth  is  of  equal  moment  with  another,  but  that 
truth  and  error  are  of  equal  value.     This^  I  think,  is  in- 
difputable  ;  for  if  it  makes  no  difference,  either  in  point  of 
chara(5ler  or  ftate,  I  fee  nothing  elfe  from  which  their  va- 
lue can  be  eftimated.     What  then  becomes  of  all  the  fine 
encomiums  we  have  on  the  beauty,  the  excellence,  the 
importance  of  truth  ?  the  n^ceility  and  benefit  of  freedom 
of  inquiry  ?     It  would  be  much  better  to  be  fatisfied  with 
any  opinions,  be  what  they  will,  than  to  give  way  to 
doubts  and  fufpicions,  to  fatigue  our  minds,  and  wafte  our 
time,  in  long  and  difficult  refearches.     If  it  be  faid,  that 
they  may  be  the  fame  as  to  the  fincerity  of  the  inquirer, 
but  different  principles  may  have  different  effedls  in  prac- 
tice ;  this  is  yielding  up  the  point  in  debate  :  for  if  one 
opinion  leads  to  holinefs,  and  another  to  wickednefs,  in 
practice,  they  can  never  be  in  the  fame  ftate  of  fafety ,  nor 
equally  acceptable  to  God,  who  hold  thefe  oppofite  fenti- 
ments.     Befides,   it  is  common  with  the  advocates  for 
this  miftaken  fort  01  charity,  in  order  the  better  to  fupport 
their  opinion,  to  deny  this  difference  in  effect,  and  to  fay^ 
'  It  is  no  matter  what  a  man's  opinions  are,  if  his  life  be 
*  good.'     Now,  it  is  evident,  that  this  affertion  is  abfurd ; 
or  rather  the  fuppofition  is  impoiiible,  unlefs  the  influence 
of  truth  and  falfehood  upon  the  lire,  be  abfolutely  equal. 
Grant  but  the  Icaft  fuperiority  or  advantage  to  one  above 


1 6  .An  Inquiry  into  the 

the  other,  and -the  argument  is  deftroyed;  for  if  truth  be 
better  than  falfehood,  it  muil  be  fome  matter  what  a  man's 
opinions  are,  in  order  to  his  life's  being  good.  How  weaic 
and  inconfiflent  creatures  are  we  !  The  very  fame  per- 
fons  who  make  the  greateft  ftir  about  a  pretended  fearch 
after  truth,  and  freedom  of  inquiry,  will  needs  have  it,  that 
Chriilian  charity  implies,  that  all  opinions  are  alike,  and 
ought  to  be  treated  with  equal  refpei^l :  and  then,  to  crown 
all,  they  give  us  the  mofi:  hideous  pictures  of  the  terrible 
efFecls  of  fuperllition,  and  certain  reUgious  fentiments 
which  they  are  pleafed  to  condemn.  Alas  !  where  is  the 
charity  then  ?  Are  all  opinions  equal  ?  Is  it  no  matter 
what  a  man's  opinions  are,  if  his  life  be  good  ?  At  lail 
you  have  found  out  fome  whofe  Jives  are  ill  by  the  im- 
pulfe  of  their  opinions.  Certainly,  charity,  in  the  fenfe 
of  forbearance  or  approbation,  is  not  due  to  diem. 

4.  If  charity  is  the  fame  with  forbearance,  it  mull  have 
fome  limits ;  becaufe  otherwife  things  vv^ould  be  carried  to 
an  extravagant  length  ;  and  fuch  cafes  might  be  fuppofed 
as  very  few  would  be  wilUng  to  admit,  and  indeed  I  think 
no  man  can  rationally  admit.  I  might  give  a  multitude 
of  poffible  examples ;  but,  for  the  greater  fatisfa6lion  of 
the  reader,  fhall  only  mention  a  few  that  are  real. 

(i)  Within  the  Chriftian  church,  there  are  not  only 
different,  but  oppofite  opinions,  and  mutually  deftrudlive 
of  each  other.  Thofe  who  hold  them,  on  each  fide,  not 
only  fay,  but  think,  that  their  adverfaries  are  guilty  of 
impiety  and  blafphemy.  Let  us  take,  for  inflance,  the 
Calviniils  and  Socinians.  Read  the  writings  of  the  firfl, 
and  you  will  fee,  that  they  confider  their  adverfaries  as 
taking  away  the  very  foundation  of  the  gofpel,  denying 
the  only  Lord  God  that  bought  them,  and  as  guilty  of 
grofs  idolatry  in  giving  divine  worihip  to  one  whom  they 
believe  to  be  a  creature.  Again,  if  you  read  the  writings 
of  the  laft,  you  will  find  them  charging  their  adverfaries 
v/ith  blafphemy  of  the  moil  horrible  nature,  and  not  only 
making  a  god  different  from  the  true  God,  but  fuch  a  one 
as  is  more  cruel  and  vindi(5live  than  the  very  devils. — ^ 
Now,  I  defire  to  know  how  the  one  of  theie  forts  of  per- 
fbns  can  have  a  favorable  opinion  of  the  ftate  and  fenti^ 


Scripture  meaning  of  Charity,  17 

ments  of  the  oppofite,  without  renouncing  their  own  ?  I 
do  freely  acknowledge,  as  I  have  formerly  done,  that  I 
never  did  eileem  the  Socinians  to  be  Chriltians ;  and  yet 
find  nothing  more  eafy,  or  indeed  more  necefiary,  than  to 
have  charity  for  them,  in  what  I  take  to  be  the  fcripture 
fenfe  of  that  word.  But  in  the  modern  fenfe  it  appears 
to  me  utterly  impofCble.  For  the  very  fame  reafon,  if 
any  who  had  embraced  thefe  principles  Ihould  pretend, 
that  he  had  fuch  charity  for  me,  as  to  efleem  and  receive 
me  as  a  faithful  miniifer  of  Chrifl",  I  would  confider  it  as 
a  profeffion  altogether  hypocritical,  or  that  he  did  not 
believe  a  word  of  his  own  fyllem.  The  truth  is,  I  cannot 
help  thinking,  from  the  manner  of  conducing  theological 
controverfies,  that  it  is  very  common  for  many  to  plead 
for  that  charity  to  themfelves  which  they  never  give  to 
their  adverfaries ;  while  the  power  of  prejudice  hinders 
them  from  obferving  the  inconfiilency  between  their  rea* 
foning  and  pradlice^. 

(2)  Thofe  who  deny  and  oppofe  the  gofpel  altogether, 
have  jult  the  fame  title  to  our  charity,  and  we  are  obliged 
to  believe,  that  they  are  honelt  and  impartial  inquirers, 
and  therefore  accepted  of  God.  Now,  if  there  be  any 
thing  in  the  world  clear  from  fcripture,  it  is,  that  we  are 
not  to  approve  or  receive  fuch  perfons  ;  that  they  are  not 
the  objedls  of  forbearance  ;  and,  by  confequence,  not  of 
that  charity  that  confill  in  forbearance :  on  the  contrary, 
the  zeal  and  a<5tivity  of  the  apoftles  was  wholly  employed 
in  bringing  unbelievers  to  the  knowledge  and  confeffion 
of  the  truth  ;  for  which  they  defer ve  very  little  praife,  if 
tliciir  Ptate  was  fafe,  and  theh'  character  unexceptionable, 
before.     And  as  to  perfons  among  us  denying  the  gofpel, 

*  I  cQu.ld  give  xnzwf  inftances  of  this  furprifing  inadvertency  ift 
writers  cf  the  very  fir'l  charavTter  :  I  fnall  only  mention  one,  of  the 
reiiowiicd  earl  of  ShalLelbury.  His  darling  theme  is,  to  fhow,  that 
eve.y  thing  whatever  iS  for  the  general  good  ;  that  even  the  worfl 
meii  are  guided  at  bottom  by  a  beHCvolent  principle  ;  yet  even  while 
expatiating  en  the  goodnels  of  the  vv'hole  lyftem  of  beings,  he  takes 
every  opportunity  of  falling  upon  the  clergy,  whom  he  allows  to  be 
purely  evil,  without  containing  any  good,  or  tendency  to  promote  it  : 
A  di^,fect  m  bis  own  fcheme,  to  which  he  doth  not  fe^yji  to  have  at- 
tended. 

Vol,  IIL  C 


1 8  An  Inquiry  into  the 

after  examination,  I  do  not  fee  how  any  perfon  can  think 
them  impartial  in  rejecting  it,  without  a  very  poor  opinion 
of  the  evidence  for  receiving  it. 

(3)  Even  in  point  of  morals,  there  have  been,  and  are 
at  this  time,  opinions  fo  very  grofs^  that  few  will  look 
upon  the  ilate  of  thofe  who  hold  them  as  fafe  ;  and  yet  if 
forbearance  is  charity,  and  the  charity  is  unlimited,  they 
niufl  alfo  be  taken  in.  There  have  been  feveral,  who 
certainly  were  fmcerely  of  opinion,  that  fornication,  and 
other  unclean'ncfs,  was  lawful.  So  great  a  man  as 
David  Hume,  efq.  has  adopted  a  fentence  from  a  French 
writer  :  "  Fem.aie  iniidelily,  when  it  is  known,  is  a  fmall 
"  matter;  and  when  it  is  not  known,  it  is  nothing." — 
The  very  fame  writer  feems  alfo  either  to  defend,  or  great- 
ly to  alleviate,  unnatural  luft.  And  many  highwaymen 
have  actually  reafoned  theinfelves  into  an  opinion  of  the 
lawfuinefs  of  robbery,  by  alledging,  that  God  never  made 
the  world  with  this  view,  that  fome  fiiould  have  too  much 
and  others  ihould  llarve  ;  and  therefore  they  had  a  right 
to  a  iliare,  and  might  levy  it  wherever  they  could  find  it. 
The  truth  is,  there  are  more  of  the  grofs  and  erroneous 
opinions  than  many  are  aware  of;  for  men  are  fcldom  at 
eafe  on  the  commiffion  of  fin,  till  they  have  found  fome 
way  to  fatisfy  their  own  minds,  by  wrong  principles. — 
Well,  are  v/e  to  think  all  thefe  honeft  and  impartial  in- 
quirers, and  to  have  charity  for  them  in  the  fenfe  fo  often 
mentioned  ?  I  imagine  fome  will  2.t  lall  fiop  fliort,  and 
fay,  there  is  a  diftindlion  to  be  made  ;  thefe  opinions  are 
formed  by  the  influence  of  prejudice,  and  the  bias  of  cor- 
rupt aHe^ions.  Here  then  your  charity  fails,  and  you 
have  fet  limits  to  your  forbearance  ;  or  rather  you  have 
given  up  the  caufe ;  for  all  falfe  opinions  arife  from  the 
the  bias  of  corrupt  affedlions.  The  fallacy  of  the  whole 
arguments  on  this  lubje6t  lies  in  confounding  two  things 
very  diflbrent,  viz.  a  man's  being  truly  of  an  opinion, 
and  his  being  fo  upon  fair  and  unprejudiced  inquiry.  A 
train  of  reafoning  is  carried  on,  which  is  built  upon  the 
lait  of  thefe  fuppofitions,  and  applied  to  cafes  where  only 
the  firfl  takes  place.  Perhaps  fome  may  chufe  to  fay, 
as  to  the  cafe  of  immoral  opinions,  that  men  are  not  to 


Scripture  Meaning  of  Charity.  19 

be  difapproved  or  condemned  for  the  opinion  in  itfelf, 
but  for  prefuming  to  a(Sl  in  confequence  of  it.  To  which 
I  anfwer,  That  if  any  man  will  prove  the  innocence  of 
forming  fiich  opinions,  I  will  undertake  to  prove,  with 
at  lead  equal  evidence,  the  obligation  that  lies  upon  every- 
one fo  perfuaded,  to  aft  according  to  his  light. 

5.  In  the  laif  place,  To  fuppofe  that  charity  is  the  fame 
thing  with  forbearance,  and  yet  that  it  is  unlimited,  is  felf- 
contradidlory,  and  impoilible,  in  many  infiances,  to  be  put 
in  pradlice.  True  Chriftian  charity  being  the  indifpenfi^ 
ble  duty  of  all,  muft  at  lead  be  pofiible  to  all,  and  conlift^ 
ent  with  every  other  duty.  Now,  to  believe  the  fafety  of 
the  flate,  or  the  goodnefs  of  the  chara6ler  of  many  peribns 
for  whom  charity  is  pleaded,  may  be  to  fome  abfolutely 
impofTible.  They  may  have  a  conviction  of  the  contrary 
on  their  judgment.  They  may  think,  that  the  fcripture 
clearly  and  explicitly  commands  diem  to  feparate  from 
fuch  people,  to  oppofe  and  deteft  their  errors  ;  and  furely 
there  are  many  much  more  abfurd  and  groundlefs  opi- 
nions truly  entertained.  What  then  fnall  they  do  ?  The 
fcripture  commands  them  to  contend  with  erroneous  per- 
fons  ;  and  if  they  do,  they  are  guilty  of  a  breach  of  charity, 
one  of  the  moll:  ellential  of  all  gofpel  duties  :  for  the  apof- 
tle  tells  us,  ''  Though  I  fpeak  with  the  tongue  of  men  and 
**  angels,  and  have  not  charity,  I  am  become  as  founding 
^*  brafs,  or  a  tinkling  cymbal." 

Thus,  I  hope  it  has  been  proved,  to  the  fatisfaftion  of 
all  impartial  perfons,  that  if  charity,  in  fcripture,  is  tlie 
fame  thing  with  that  forbearance  we  owe  to  others  who 
differ  from  us,  it  muft  have  fome  bounds,  and  be  praile 
or  blame  worthy,  according  to  the  cafes  in  which  it  is  ex- 
ercifed.  If  it  be  aflvcd,  Who  fliall  Hate  the  bounds  be- 
yond which  it  is  not  to  extend  ?  I  anfwer.  Every  one  for 
himfelf,  according  to  the  beft  of  his  ov/n  judgment. 
Some  perhaps  v/ill  contend  with,  or  judge  others,  for 
things  in  which  they  ought  to  forbear  them  ;  but  many 
others  will  carry  their  forbearance  too  far,  and  retain  er- 
roneous or  vicious  perfons  in  their  fociety,  when  they 
ought  to  expel  them.  For  this  there  is  no  remedy,  as  it  is 
the  confequence  of  the  weaknefs  of  human  nature,  and  ng 


20  Jn  Inquiry  into  the 

way  different  from  what  happens  as  to  every  duty  incum- 
bent on  us  as  men  or  Chriftfans. 

TI.  Let  us  now  come  to  the  fecond  part  of  this  difcourfe, 
and  confider  what  reafon  there  is  to  believe,  that  charity 
in  fcripture,  is  a  duty  altogether  diftincl  from  forbearance, 
and  founded  on  diilind  principles. 

One  general  confideration  will  go  nigh  to  prove  this  of 
itfelf,  viz.  That  forbearance,  as  has  been  ihewn  in  the 
preceding  pages,  hath  limits,  beyond  which  it  is  culpable  ; 
v/hereas  charity  hath  none,  at  lead  as  to  its  objedl.  There 
is  no  perfon  or  character  that  can  be  conceived,  for  which 
we  are  allowed  to  be  without  charity.  With  refpe6l  to 
forbearance,  the  objedl  of  it  is  clearly  pointed  out  in  the 
paiTages  where  it  is  fpoken  of,  and  is  the  (difference  of 
opinion  as  to  fmailer  matters,  viz.  the  lawfulnefs  or  un- 
lawfulnefs  of  mea.ts  and  drinks,  and  whether  certain  days 
were  holy  or  common.  But  there  is  no  paffage  in  which 
charity  is  fpoken  of,  that  gives  the  leaft  hint,  or  indeed 
that  leaves  room  to  fuppofe,  that  it  hath  any  limits  as  to 
its  obje<5l.  Charity,  we  are  told,  is  "  the  end,"  or  fum, 
'*  of  the  commandment."  And  indeed  it  is  the  fame 
thing  with  love,  v/hich  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law.  And 
in  the  explication  which  our  Lord  gives  of  the  fum  of  the 
fecond  table  of  the  law,  in  anfwer  to  that  queiHon,  Who 
is  my  neighbor  ?  he  plainly  teaches  us^  by  the  parable  of 
the  Samaritan,  that  ail  men  are  our  neiglibors.  There 
was  a  great  oppofition,  in  point  of  religion,  betv^^een  the 
Jev^/s  and  Samaritans  ;  yet  he  fhews  plainly,  that  this 
ought  not  to  obllrucl  the  exercife  of  charity,  in  the  true 
fenfe  of  that  word.  Pbr  this  reafon,  I  think  it  highly  pro- 
bable, that  forbearance  is  different  from  charity  ;  the  one. 
points  out  our  duty  to  our  fellow  Chriftians  in  certain  cir- 
cumllances,  and  the  other  includes  our  duty  to  our  fellow- 
creatures  at  all  times. 

This  will  be  confirmed,by  reile6ling,that  the  word  which, 
in  fome  places,  is  trandated  t'/^^/'i/jy,  is  the  fame,  in  all  other 
paffagesv/ithout variation  in  anyone  of  them,v/iththatwhich 
is  tranflated  lore,  ^y^-'^'?  is  the  New  Teflaraent  word  for 
charity^  v/hich,  as  it  is  generally  tranflated  lo'oe^  fo  I  do 


Scripture  Meaning  of  Charity.  i&i 

not  fee  the  lead  reafon  for  altering  the  tranflatlon,  in 
thofe  places  where  charity  is  fubllituted  in  its  room. 
Charity  then  is  lonje ;  that  is  to  fay,  it  is  a  fmcere  and  fer- 
vent afFedion  to  others,  and  a  defire  of  their  welfare,  tem- 
poral and  eternal.  This  not  only  may  confill  with,  but 
of  itfelf  naturally  produces,  the  ftrongeft  abhorrence  of 
their  wicked  principles,  and  the  deepeft  concern  for  their 
dangerous  Hate.  There  is  a  great  affinity  between  the 
fentiments  we  ought  to  entertain  with  regard  to  error  and 
vice.  Our  love  to  vicious  perfons  ought  not  to  carry  in  it 
any  approbation  or  indulgence  of  their  vices,  and  far  lefs 
any  belief  of  the  fafety  of  their  ftate  ;  but  an  earncll  con- 
cern to  bring  about  their  reformation.  In  the  fame  man- 
ner, a  fmcere  and  fervent  charity  for  erroneous  perfons, 
does  not  imply  any  approbation  of  their  opinions,  or  fup- 
pofition  of  their  confiltency  with  foundnefs  in  the  faith, 
but  an  earned;  defire  to  recover  them,  if  poffible,  from  their 
unhappy  delufion.  Nay,  though  a  man  be  fo  narrow- 
minded,  as  to  judge  thofe  whom  he  ought  to  forbear,  it 
may,  very  poffibiy,  be  attended  with  no  breach  of  charity  ; 
becaufe  there  may  be  as  much  love  to  his  neighbor  in 
that  perfon's  heart,  and  as  much  concern  for  his  welfare, 
as  if  he  had  feen  more  clearly  his  own  miflakc.  The 
apoftle  Paul  calls  thefe  iveak  perfons,  and  afcribes  their 
conduft  to  the  imperfedlions  of  their  judgment.  It  was 
the  flrong,  or  thofe  who  liad  more  knowledge,  that  he 
blamed,  as  not  walking  charitably^  when  they  would  not 
abftain  from  meat,  to  prevent  their  brethren's  offence. 

It  will  be  an  additional  confirmation  of  this  meaning  of 
charity^  that  it  makes  the  feveral  duties  of  Chriftians 
at  once  clear  and  intelligible,  and  confident  one  with  an- 
other, by  leaving  to  each  its  full  fcope,  and  its  proper  ob- 
jedl.  If  we  take  charity  in  the  fenfe  which  I  have  reject- 
ed, there  will  be  a  continual  oppofition  between  zeal  and 
charity ;  and  in  proportion  as  you  increafe  in  any  one  of 
them,  you  mud  neceifarily  fail  in  the  other.  And  indeed 
this  feems  to  be  verified  in  experience ;  for  thofe  who  ef- 
poufe  this  fort  of  charity,  do  frequently  fall  into  fo  cool  a 
Hate  ill  point  of  zeal,  that  they  give  themfelves  little  trou- 
ble, either  in  indru61ing  the  ignorant,  or  reproving  the 


22  An  Inquiry  into  the 

vicious ;  and  are  not  backward  in  ftigmatizing  thole,  as 
narrow-minded  and  uncharitable,  v/ho  do.  But  if  wc 
take  charity  for  unfeigned  love,  then,  inllead  of  oppofition, 
there  is  the  moil  perfecl  harmony  between  one  duty  and 
another.  So  far  from  hindering,  or  even  limiting  each 
other  in  their  exercife,  they  ftrengthen  each  other  in  prin- 
ciple, and  dire6l  each  other  in  their  application.  The 
more  fervent  love  I  have  for  my  fellow-creatures  and  my 
fellow-Chrillians,  it  will  but  excite  my  zeal  to  promote 
their  benefit,  by  endeavoring  to  convince  them  of  any 
dangerous  miftake,  and  deliver  them  from  the  dominion 
of  every  vicious  pradtice.  At  the  fame  time,  this  love 
will  naturally  produce  forbearance,  where  it  Is  lawful  and 
proper ;  becaufe,  if  I  love  any  perfon  fincereiy,  I  will 
judge  of  him  candidly,  and  not  impute  any  bad  fentiment 
or  pra6lice  to  him  without  neceility.  It  will  prevent  us 
from  interfering  with  odiers  where  we  ought  not,  and  will 
urge  us  to  activity  and  diligence  where  the  cafe  feems  re- 
ally to  call  for  it. 

This  fubjei!^:  may  be  well  illuurated  by  parental  aiFec- 
tion,  when  it  is  both  ilrong  in  its  principle,  and  well  di- 
rected in  its  exercife.  It  will  certainly  prevent  a  parent 
from  judging  hardly  of  his  children,  or  being  eafily  in- 
cenfed  againll  them,  on  wrong  ©r  doubtful  information  : 
but  it  will  be  fo  far  from  making  him  think  favorably  of 
their  miflakes,  either  in  principle  or  pradlice,  that  the 
more  tender  his  love,  the  greater  his  concern  to  prevent 
their  being  milled,  or  to  recover  them  if  they  have  gone 
aftray.  Examples  to  be  fure  there  are  many,  of  a  fort  of 
love  in  parents  to  their  children,  that  operates  like  the 
falfc  charity  I  am  now  pleading  againfr,  making  them 
blind  to  their  failings,  and  even  partial  to  their  crimes  : 
but  1  think  it  mull  be  allowed,  that  all  fuch  partiality  and 
indulgence  is  a  weaknels,  inllead  of  a  virtue,  in  the  parent, 
and  is  commonly  a  curfe,  inltead  of  a  bleiling,  to  the 
child.  To  have  jul'l  apprehenfions  of  the  feveral  duties 
of  the  Chriftian  life,  we  mult  always  confider  their  relation 
to,  and  dependance  upon,  one  another.  There  are  fomc 
fms  oppofite  to,  and  deilruclive  of,  each  other  ;  but  there 
is  no  truly  good  difpofition,  that  is  not  perfectly  confillent 


Scripture  incanmg  of  Charity,  ij 

with,  or  rather  that  does  not  improve  and  ftrengthen 
every  other.  It  is  remarkable,  that  in  fcripture,  the  du- 
ties of  reproof  and  correction  are  frequently  attributed  to 
love  as  their  principle,  not  only  in  God,  but  in  man  : 
*'  Whom  the  Lord  loveth  he  chaftifeth,  and  fcourgeth 
*'  every  fon  whom  he  receiveth." — "^  He  that  fpareth  the 
*'  rod,  hateth  his  fon  ;  but  he  that  loveth  him,  chafleneth 
*'  him  betimes." — "  Thou  fhalt  not  hate  thy  neighbor  iu 
*'  thy  heart ;  but  flialt  in  any  wife  rebulce  him,  and  not 
"  fuffer  fm  upon  him." 

Upon  the  whole,  iince  this  interpretation  of  charity  is 
not  only  moft  agreeable  to  icripture,  but  moll  confiilent 
v/ith  itlblf,  and  with  every  other  branch  of  the  Chrillian 
chara6ter,  I  hope  it  will  be  received,  at  leail  fo  far  as  to 
leflen  the  cry  of  uncharitablenefs  againft  thoie  who,  from 
the  united  principles  o*l  love  to  God  and  man,  think  thera- 
felves  obliged  to  oppofe  the  progrefs  of  grofs  error,  I 
plead  for  this  only  when  they  make  ufe  of  juft  and  lawful 
means,  and  acl  in  a  manner  becoming  Chriftians,  in 
meeknefs  inftru6ling  thofe  that  oppofe  themfelves.  For 
though  I  have  fliewn,  that  true  charity  is  as  favorable  to 
zeal  as  to  forbearance,  and  to  both  alike  in  their  proper 
place,  I  am  fenfible  that  there  may  be  zeal  wliere  there 
is  little  or  no  charity  ;  and,  in  that  cafe,  ^it  will  fhew  itfelf 
in  "  wrath,  ftrife,  feditions,  herefies."  I'his  happens 
chiefly,  when  a  weak  perfon  who  judges  rafaly,  is  alio  of 
an  envious  or  malicious  difpofition.  The  firil  of  thefe  may 
be  fometimes  without  the  other ;  they  may,  however,  alfo 
be  joined  in  the  fame  perfon ;  and  then  it  will  certainly 
be  attended  with  "  eonfufion,  and  every  evil  work."  But 
when  a  deep  fenfe  of  the  evil  of  departing  from  the  faith 
to  the  perfbns  themfelves,  raid  the  danger  of  corrupt  doc- 
trine infe6ling  the  whole  lump,  induces  any  to  iland  up 
in  defence  of  the  truth,  to  oppofe  the  introduction  of  er- 
roneous teachers,  or  to  attempt  the  expulfion  of  thofe  who 
have  crept  in  unawa.res ;  let  them  be  called  unrealbnable 
if  you  pleafe,  and  let  their  mifiake  be  pointed  out,  but 
I  beg  that  they  may  not  be  abuitd  and  villified  as  un- 
charitable. The  reafon  of  my  requefl  is,  that  it  is  more 
than  probable  they  do  this  from  a  ilrong  conviction,  that 


24  ^^  Inquiry^  i^c, 

they  are  obliged  to  it  by  the  exprefs  command  of  Chrift. 
I  declare  this  to  be  my  own  perfuafion,  after  the  moft  im- 
partial fearch  of  the  fcriptures  of  which  I  wac  capable ; 
and  certainly  it  is  at  leaft  poflible,  that  we  may  have, 
notwithflanding,  a  fervent  love  to  our  brethren,  and  a 
clefire  oi  their  welfare.  We  may  love  them  as  men,  even 
when  we  cannot  judge  them  to  be  faints ;  and  we  may 
love  them  as  Chriftians,  even  when  we  think  they  are  in 
many  things  to  be  blamed ;  nay,  I  hope  we  may  heartily 
forgive  them  as  enemies,  notwithflanding  all  their  bitter- 
nefs  and  rancor  againft  us.  But  if,  after  all,  this  requefl 
cannot  be  obtained ;  if  we  cannot  alter  our  judgment, 
and  they  will  ftill  infift  that  we  are  therefore  without  cha- 
rity, that  is  to  fay,  without  chriflianity  ;  they  mufl  confefs, 
that  here  is  one  opinion  which  they  will  not  tolerate,  and 
to  which,  in  their  own  fenfe,  no  charity  is  due. 


[    ^5     ] 


iVsiis  ooco  jfiog  ooM  coio  mm  •«»  oooa  cooo  cooo  oooo  oooo  oooo  ooo  soot  »ooo  occJ  oooo  ooto  eooo  opse  ooto  oooj  Wot  toA 
MKo  bcoa  oO'M  oooo  o(.uu  .^wu  v>.>ou  oe<)9  looo  i.:xM  oauo  oOco  oooo  oooo  cooo  oo>>a  ukxi  «oo»  ocm  jooc  uoos  0320  coin  osoo  Mak 


A    SERIOUS 

INQUIRY 

I  K  T  O       T  rt  E 

NATURE  AND  EFFECTS 

OF     THE 

STAGE; 

ijeiHg  an  attempt  to  shov^^  that  contributing  to  the  stip^ 
port  of  a  publit  theatre^  is  inconsistent  with  the  cba^ 
racter  of  a  Christian, 


THE  reader  will  probably  conjefture,  and  therefore 
I  do  readily  acknowledge,  that  what  gave  occafiort 
both  to  the  writuig,  and  publilhing  the  enfuing  treatife^ 
was  the  new  tfagedy  of  Douglas,  lately  acled  in  the 
theatre  at  Edinburgh.  This,  univerfal  uncontradi6led 
fame  fays,  is  the  work  of  a  miniiler  of  the  church  of 
Scotland.  One  of  that  chara6ler  and  office  empIo}/ing 
his  time  in  writing  for  the  fcage,  every  one  will  allow^ 
is  a  very  ntw  and  extraordinary  event.  In  one  refpe(R: 
neither  author  nor  aClors  have  fufFered  any  thing  from 
this  circumilance :  for  doubtlefs,  it  contributed  its  fliare 
in  procuring  that  run  upon  the  reprefentation,  which 
continued  for  feveral  days.  Natural  curiofuy  prompted 
many  to  make  trial,  whether  there  was  any  differen6# 
Vol.  IIL  O 


%6  A  Serious  tjiqiiUy  into  thi 

between  a  play  v/rote  by  a  clergy  man,  and  one  of  atid^ 
ther  author.  And  a  concern  for  the  fate  of  fuch  a  per- 
{q\\  excited  the  zeal  and  diligence  of  friends,  to  do  all  in 
their  power  to  procure  afiill  houfe,  that  the  bold  adven^ 
turer  might  be  treated  with  refpe6t  and  h.onor. 

Some  refolutions  of  the  prefbytery  of  Edinbiargli  feem 
to  threaten,  that  public  notice  will  be  taken  of  this  author 
and  his  aiTociates,  by  their  fuperiors  in  the  church. 
Whether  this  will  be  carried  on,  and,  if  it  be,  v/hether 
they  will  be  approved  or  cenfured  ;  and  if  the  Jaft,  to 
what  degree,  I  pretertd  not  to  foreteL  But  one  thing 
is  certain,  that  it  hath  been,  and  will  be,  the  fubjedl  of 
much  thought  and  converfation  among  the  laity  of  all 
ranks,  and  that  it  muil  have  a  very  great  influence  upon 
the  ftate  of  religion  among  us,  in  this  part  of  the  nation. 
That  this  influence  will  be  for  the  better,  though  I  refolve 
to  examine  the  fubjedl  with  all  impartiality,  I  confefs  I 
fee  little  ground  to  hope.  There  is  no  doubt  that 
it  will  be  condemned  by  the  great  plurality  of  thofe  who 
goby  the  appellation  of  the  ftriciiler  fort.  With  them,  it 
will  bring  a  great  reproach  upon  the  church  of  Scotland, 
as  containing  one  miniRer  who  writes  for  the  ftage,  and 
many  who  think  it  no  crime  to  attend  the  reprefentation^ 
It  is  true,  no  other  confec[uences  are  to  be  apprehended 
from  their  difpleafure,  than  the  weakeft  of  them  being 
provoked  to  unchrillian  refentment,  or  tempted  to  draw 
rafli  and  general  conclulions  from  the  condu6l  of  a  few 
to  the  chara6ler  of  the  whole,  or  perhaps  fome  of  them 
feparating  from  the  eilablifhed  church,  none  of  which 
eliecls  of  late  have  been  much  either  feared  or  fhunned.- 
However,  even  on  this-  account,  it  were  to  be  wifhed, 
eitlier  that  it  had  never  hap|>ened,  or  tliat  it  could  be 
fnevv^n,  to  the  conviction  of  unprejudiced  minds^  that 
it  was  a  juft  and  commendable  a6Vion^ 

But,  to  be  fure,  the  chief  danger  is,  that  m  cafe  it 
be  really  a  bad  thing,  it  mull  give  very  great  offence, 
in  the  Scripture  fenfe  of  that  word,  to  thofe  who  are 
mod  apt  to  take  it,  viz.  fuch  as  have  leall  religion,  oi' 
Fione  at  all.  An  offence  is  a  ftumbling-block  over  which 
the  weak  and  uudedfafl;  are  in  danger  of  falling  ;  that  is^ 


Natwe  and  Effhcts  of  tJjc  S-tdge.  27 

to  fay,  It  emboldens  them  to  commit,  and  hardens  them 
in  the  practice  of,  fm.  Now,  if  the  llagq  is  unlawful  or 
dangerous  to  a  ChrilHan,  thofe  who  are  by  inclination  fo 
acldided  to  it  that  it  is  already  difEcult  to  convince  them, 
of  their  error,  muft  be  greatly  confirmed  in  this  error,  by 
the  example  and  countenance  of  fuch  as  call  themfelves. 
miniilers  of  ChrilL  It  has  accordingly  already  occafi- 
oued  more  difcourfe  among  the  gay  part  of  the  world,  in 
defence  or  commendation  of  the  (Uge,  than  paft  perhaps, 
fgr  fome  years  preceding  this  event. 

Nothing  tiierefore  can  be  more  feafpnable  at  this  time, 
Qr  neceilary  for  the  public  good,  than  a  careful  and  accu- 
rate dlfculTion  of  this  queftion.  Whetlier  fupportingand 
e.ncouraging  llageTplays,  by  writing,  ailing,  or  attending 
them,  is  coafiltent,  or  inconfiilent,  with  the  chara£ler  of 
a  Chriftian  ?  It  is  to  no  purpofe  to  confine  the  inquiry  to 
this,  Whether  a  minifteris  not  appearing  in  aa  improper 
light,  and  mifapplying  his  time  and  talents  when  he  de- 
dicates them  to  the  fervice  of  the  ilage  ?  That  point  would, 
probably  be  given  up  by  moft,  and  thofe  whq  would  deny 
it  do  not  merit  a  confutation.  But  if , the  matter  is  refled 
'here,  it  will  be  confidered  only  as  a  fmalkr  mifdemea- 
nor,  and  though  treated,  or  even  condemned  as  fuch,  it 
will  flill  have  the  bad  t^td^.  (upon  fuppoficion  of  theatri- 
cal amufements  being  wrong  ^nd  fuiful)  of  greatly  pro- 
moting them,  though  we  feem  to  be  already  as  much  gi- 
ven to  them  as  even  worldly  confide  rations  will,  allow. 

The  feif-denying  apologies  common  with  authors,  of 
their  being  fenfible  of  their  unfitnefs  for  the  tafi^  they  un- 
dertake, their  doing  it  to  ftir  up  a  better  hand,  and  fo  on, 
I  wholly  pafs,  having  never  read  any  of  them  with  appro- 
bation. Prudence  is  good,  and  I  would  not  willingly 
lofe  fight  of  it,  but  zeal  and  concern  for  the  glory  of  God, 
and  faithfulnefs  to  the  fouls  of  others,  9.re  duties  equally 
jieceffary  in  their  place,  b\it  much  more  rare.  How  far 
I  am  fenfible  of  my  own  unfitnefs  for  treating  this  fubje6l^ 
'^nd  of  the  reputation  that  is  riflced  by  attempting  it,  the 
world  is  not  obliged  to  believe  upon  my  own  tellimony  ; 
but  in  whatever  degree  it  be,  it  is  greatly  overbalanced  at 
prefent,  by  a,  view  of  the  declining  ftate  of  religion  zi^ 


38  '  A  Serious" Inquiry  into  the- 

mong  us,  the  prevalence  of  national  fms  and  the  danger 
of  defolating  judgments. 

It  is  fome  difcouragement  in  this  attempt,  that  it  is  ve- 
ry uncertain  wkether  many  of  thofe,  for  v^'hcfe  i'akes  It  is. 
chietly  intended,  and  who  fland  mop  in  need  of  informa- 
tion upon  the  fubjefl,  will  take  the  pains  to  look  into  it. 
Such  a  levity  of  fpirit  prevails  in  this  age,  that  very  few 
perfons  of  fafhion  will  read  or  confider  any  thing  that  is, 
written  in  a  grave  or  ferious  flyle.  Whoever  will  look  in- 
to the  monthly  catalogues  of  books,  puWiflied  in  Britain. 
for  fome  years  paft,  may  be  convinced  of  this,  at  one 
glance.  What  an  immenfe  proportion  do  romances,  un- 
der the  titles  of  lives,  adventures,  memoirs,  hiflories, 
?icc.  bear  to  any  other  fort  of  produ£lion  in  this  age  ?  Per- 
haps therefore  it  may  be  thought  that  it  would  have  beea 
xnore  proper  to  have  gratified  the  public  tafle,  by  raifnig 
up  fome  allegorical  ftru6lure,  and  handling  this  fubjeft  in 
the  way  of  wit  and  humor  ;  efpecially  as  it  feems  to  be 
^'modern  principle,  that  ridicule  isthetefl  of  truth,  and 
5is  there  feems  to  be  fo  large  a  fund  for  mirth,  in  the  cha- 
racter of  a  llagc- playing'  prieft.  But,  though  I  deny  not 
the  lawfulnefs  of  ufmg  ridicule  in  fome  cafes,  or  even  ics 
propriety  here,  yet  I  am  far  from  thinking  it  is  the  toft  of 
truth.  It  feems  to  be  more  proper  for  corredicn  than  \ot 
inflru6tion  ;  and  though  it  may  be  fit  enough  to  whij^an  of- 
fender, it  is.  not  unufual,  nor  unfuitable,  lirfi:  to  expofiu- 
late  a  little  with  him,  and  Ihew  him  that  he  deferves  it. 
Befides.,  every  man's  talent  is  not  equally  fit  for  it,  and 
indeed,  now  the  matter  feenis  to  have  been  carried  beyond 
a  jeft,  and  to  require  a  very  ferious  conr.deration. 

There  is  alfo,  befides  fome  difcourageuient,  a  real  dif-. 
Sculty  in  entering  on  this  difquifition.  It  will  be  hard  to 
know  in  what  manner  to  reafon,  or  on  what  principles  to 
build.  It  were  eafy  to  fhow  the  unjaw^ulnefs  of  Rage- 
plays,  by  fuch  arguments  as  would  appear  conclufive  to- 
thofe  who  already  hate  both  them  and  their  iiipporters  : 
but  it  is  not  fo  eafy  to  make  it  appear  to  thofe  who  chiefly 
frequent  them,  becaufe  they  will  both  applaud  and  jnllify 
ft)me  of  the  very  things  that  others  look  upon  as  the  worll 
^ijeds  of  the  praClice,  and  \\dll  deny  the  very  principles 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage,  29 

on  vvliich  thev  arc  condemned.  The  truth  is,  it  is  our 
having  dlflerent  views  of  the  nature  of  religion,  that 
caufcs  difierent  opinions  upon  this  fubjed.  For  many 
a:-:es  dierewas  no  debate  upon  it  at  alL  There  were- 
players,  bat  they  did  not  pretend  to  be  Chriilians  them- 
iebes,  and  thev  had  neither  countenance  nor  fupport 
from  any  who  did.  Whereas  now,  there  are  abundance 
of  advocates  for  the  lavvfuhiefs,  fome  for  the  ufefuhiefs, 
cf  plays ;  not  that  the  llage  is  become  more  pure,  but 
that  Chrlftians  are  become  lefs  fo,  and  have  lowered  the- 
llandard  or  meafure  re-quifite  to  attain  and  preferve  that 
chara.6ter. 

But  there  is  ftill  another  difficulty,  that  whoever  under- 
takes to  write  a<{aintt:  plays,  though  the  provocation  is  giv- 
en by  what  they  are,  is  yet  always  called  upon  to  attack 
them,  not  as  they  are,  but  as  they  might  be.  A  writer 
on  this  fubjeft  is  a^luaily  reduced  to  the  neceflity  of  fight- 
ing with  a  fliadow,  of  maintaining  a  combat  with  an 
ideal  or  imap;inary  fort  of  drama,  which  never  yet  ex-. 
ifted»  but  which  the  defenders  of  the  caufe  form  by  way 
of  fuppofition,  and  v/bich  fhall  appear,  in  fa6l,  in  that 
•happy  future  age,  v/hich  fhall  fee,  what  thefe  gentlemeu 
are  pkafed  to  ftyle,  a  well  regulated  llage.  However  lit- 
tle fupport  may  feem  to  be  given  by  this  to  a  vicious 
and  corrupted  f^age  there  is  no  attender  of  plays  but, 
when  he  hears  this  chimera  defended,  imagines  it  is  his 
own  Caufe  that  is  efpoufed,  and  with  great  compofure  and 
felf-faiisfa6lion,  continues  his  pra6lice.  A  condu^  not 
leis  abfurd,  than  if  one  who  was  exprefsly  affured  a  cer-. 
tain  diili  of  meat  before  him  was  poifoned,  fhould  an. 
fwer  thus,  Ail  meat  is  not  poifoned,,  and  therefore  I 
may  eat  this  with  'fafety. 

It  is  very  plain,  that  were  men  but  ferioufly  difpofed,. 
^nd  without  prejudice  deiiring  the  knowledge  of  their 
duty,  it  would  not  be  neceffary,  in  order  to  fliow  the 
imlav;fulucfs  of  the  llage,  as  it  now  is,  to  combat  it  ia 
its  imaginary  reformed  Hate.  Such  a  reformation,  were 
not  men  by  the  prevalence  of  vicious  and  corrupt  afFec- 
tions,  in  love  with  it,  even  in  its  prefent  condition^ 
Vouid.  have  been  long  ago  given  up  as  a  hopelefs  and  vi^. 


30  A  Serious  Inquiry  Into  the 

fionary  proje£l,  and  the  whole  trade  or  employment  de- 
tefted,  on  account  of  the  abufes  that  had  always  adhered 
to  it.  But  fmce  all  advocates  for  the  ft  age  have  and  da 
ftill  defend  it  in  this  manner,  by  forming  an  idea  of  it 
ieparate  from  its  evil  quahties ;  fmce  ihey  defend  it  fa 
far  with  fuccefs,  that  many  who  would  othenvife  abilain, 
do,  upon  this  very  account,  allow  tiiemfelves  in  attend- 
ing the  theatre  fometimes,  to  their  own  hurt  and  that 
of  others  ;  and,  as  I  am  convinced  on  the  moll  mature 
deliberation,  that  the  reafon  why  there  never  was  a  well 
regulated  fiage,  in  fadt,  is  becaufe  it  cannot  be,  the  na^ 
tare  of  the  thing  not  admitting  of  it.  I  v/iil  endeavor 
to  fhew,  that  Public  Theatrical  Kepresentati- 
ONS,  either  tragedy  or  comedy,  are,  in  their  general  na-, 
ture  or  in  their  beft  poffible  Hate,  unlawful,  contrary  to 
the  purity  of  our  religion  ;  and  that  writing,  acting  or 
attending  them,  is  inconfiftent  with  the  character  of  a 
Chriftian.  If  this  be  done  with  fuccefs,  it  will  give 
great  weight  to  the  reflections  which  fhall  be  added  upr 
on  the  aggravation  of  the  crime,  con  fide  ring  the  cir-  ■ 
cumftances  that  at  prefent  attend  the  pradlice. 

But,  though  I  have  thus  far  complied  with  the  un- 
reafonable  termiS  impofcd  by  tiie  advocates  for  this  amufe- 
ment,  they  mufl:  not  proceed  to  any  higher  demand,  nor 
expecl,  becaufe  they  have  prevailed,  to  have  plays  con- 
fidered  in  the  way  that  they  them^felves  defire,  that  there,, 
fore  the  fame  thing  mufl  be  done  by  religion,  and  that 
\\  mufl  be  lowered  down  to  the  defcriptions  they  are 
fometimes  pleafed  to  give  of  it.  I  will  by  no  nteans 
attack  plays  upon  the  principles  of  modern  relaxed  mo- 
rality. In  that  cafe,  to  be  fure,  it  would  be  a  loll  caufe^ 
If  fome  late  writers  on  the  fubject  of  morals  be  per- 
mitted to  determine  what  are  tiie  ingredients  that  muft 
enter  into  the  compolitionof  a  good  man,  that  good  mai), 
it  is  agreed,  may  much  more  probably  be  found  in  the 
plav-houfe  than  in  any  other  place.  But  v/hat  belongs  ta 
the  character  of  a  Chriftian  mull  be  taken  from  the  ho- 
ly Scriptures,  the  word  of  the  living  God.  Notwith^ 
Handing  therefore,,  that  through  the  great  degeneracy  of: 
the  cig^,  and  very  culpable  relaxation  of  difcipline,^  i7.Gt; 


ISfature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage.  3t 

ti  Few  continue  to  be  called  Chriflians,  who  are  a  reproach 
to  the  name,  andlupport  and  countenance  one  another  in 
many  pradtices  contrary  to  the  purity  of  the  Chriilian 
proieilion,  I  ihall  beg  leave  ftill  to  recur  to  the  unerring 
ftandard,  and  to  conftder,  not  what  many  nominal  Chrii- 
tians  are,  but  what  every  real  Chriftian  ought  to  be. 

In  fo  doing  I  think  I  fliall  realbn  juftly ;  and  at  the 
fame  time  it  is  my  relolution,  not  only  to  Ipeak  the  fenie, 
but,  as  often  as  polTible,  the  very  language  and  phrafes  of 
the  Scripture,  and  of  our  pious  lathers.  Thel'e  are  either 
become  venerable  to  me  for  their  antiquity^  or  they  are 
much  fitter  for  expreiring  the  truths  of  the  gofpel,  and  de- 
lineating the  character  and  duty  of  a  difciple  of  Chrift, 
than  any  that  have  been  invented  in  latter  times.  As 
the  growth  or  decay  of  vegetable  nature  is  often  fo  gra- 
dual as  to  be  infenlible  \  fo  in  the  moral  world,  verbal 
alterations,  which  are  counted  as  nothing,  do  often  intro- 
duce real  changes,  which  are  firmly  eilabliflied  before 
•their  approach  is  fo  much  as  fafpe(!^ed.  Were  the  fiyle, 
not  only  of  foma  modern  eflays,  but  of  fome  modern 
fermons,  to  be  introduced  upon  this  fubjedl,  it  would 
greatly  weaken  the  argument,  though  no  other  alteration 
ihould  be  made*  Should  we  every  where  put  virtue  fof 
holinefs,  honor,  or  even  moral  fenfe  for  confcience,  im- 
provement  of  the  heart  for  fan6lification,  the  oppofition 
between  fuch  things  and  theatrical  entertainments  would 
not  appear  half  fo  fenfible. 

By  taking  up  the  argument  in  the  light  noW  propofed* 
I  am  faved,  in  a  great  meafure,  from  the  repetition  of 
what  has  been  written  by  other  authors  on  the  fubjcdl:* 
But  let  it  be  remembered,  that  they  have  clearly  and  co^ 
pioufly  fhewn  the  corruption  and  impurity  of  the  fia.fre^ 
and  its  adherents,  fince  its  firfi:  inlHtution,  and  that  both 
in  the  heathen  and  Chriilian  world*  They  have  made  it 
undeniably  appear,  that  it  v/as  oppofed  and  condemned 
by  the  bell  and  wifefi:  men,  both  heathens  and  Chrifiiai-a 
in  every  age*.      Its  very  defenders  do   all  pretend  to 

*  Particularly  at  Athens,  where  it  firfi.  had  its  birth,  both  t^nge•Jv•  and 
comedy  were  foon  abolilhed  by  public  Authority  ;  and  ailii^jig  \/ht  Jld-* 
»ans,  though  this  a»d  other  public  fliows  were  peimitted  in  a  e'ei taiit 


^i  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  thd 

blame  the  abufe  of  it.  They  do  indeed  alledge  that  this 
abufe  is  not  effential  to  it,  but  may  be  feparated  from  it ; 
however,  all  of  them,  fo  far  as  1  have  feen,  reprefent  this 
reparation  as  only  poflible  or  future ;  they  never  attempt 
to  affign  any  aera  in  which  it  could  be  defended  as  it  then 
was,  or  could  be  afHrmed  to  be  more  profitable  than  hurt* 
ful.  Some  waiters  do  mention  a  few  particular  plays  of 
which  they  give  their  approbation*  But  thefe  have  nevef 
yet,  in  any  age  or  place,  amounted  to  fuch  a  number,  as 
to  keep  one  fociety  of  players  in  conftant  employment, 
without  a  mixture  of  many  more  that  are  confeffedly 
pernicious.  The  only  reafon  of  bringing  this  in  viev/  at 
prefent  when  it  is  not  to  be  infifled  on,  is,  that  it  ought 
to  procure  a  fair  and  candid  hearing  to  this  attempt  to 
prove,  That  the  flage,  after  the  greatell  improvement  of 
which  it  is  capable,  is  Itill  incoiifillent  with  the  purity  of 
the  Ghriftian  profeffion.  It  is  a  flrong  prefumptive  evi- 
dence in  favor  of  this  aflertion,  that,  after  fo  many  years 
trial,  fuch  improvement  has  never  aclually  taken  place. 

degree,  yet  fo  cautious  were  that  wife  people  of  fLifferirig  tlicm  to  be 
frequent,  that  they  did  not  permit  any  public  theatre,  when  occafion- 
ally  erected,  to  continue  above  a  certain  number  of  days.  Even  that 
ereded  by  M.  Scaurus,  which  is  faid  to  have  cod  fo  iilimenfe  a  funi 
as  a  million  llerliwg,  was  fpeedily  taken  down.  P^-^mpey  the  Great 
was  the  firll  who  had  power  and  credit  enough  to  get  a  theatre  con- 
tinued. 

The  opinion  of  Seneca  may  be  feen  in  the  f.  tlowing  paffage  : — * 
•<  Nihil  eft  tani  damnofum  bonis  moribus,  o;uam  in  aliquo  jpectacula 
'*  defidere.     Tunc  enim  per  voluptatem  faciiins  vitia  furrepunt." 

As  to  the  primitive  Ghriftians,  fee  Gondii:.  Apolt.  lib.  8.  cap.  32* 
where  actors  and  dage-players  are  enumerated  among"  thofe  who  are 
not  to  be  admitted  to  baptifm.  Many  diiTtrent  councils  appoint  that 
they  fliall  renounce  their  arts  before  they  be  admitted,  and  if  they 
return  to  them  ihall  be  excommunicated.  Te  I'uUian  de  SpedVa£ulis, 
cap.  22.  obferves)  That  the  heathens  themfclves  marked  them  with 
infamy,  and  excluded  them  from  all  honors  and  dignity.  To  the  fame 
purpofe  fee  Aug.  de  Civ.  Dei,  lib.  2.  cap.  14.  "  Acliorcs  poeiiearuni 
"  fabularum  removent  a  focietate  clvitatis — ab  honoribus  oitfnibui 
**  repellunt  homines  fcenicos." 

The  opinion  of  mcderns  is  Well  known,  few  Ghriftian  writers  of  anjr 
eminence  having  failed  to  pronounce  fentence  againll  the  ftage. 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  StagCk  33 

It  13  perhaps  alfo  proper  here  to  obviate  a  pretence,  in 
^vhicli  tiie  advocates  of  the  Ikge  greatly  glory,  that  there  is 
no  exprefs  prohibition  of  it  to  be  found  in  fcripture.  I 
think  a  countryman  of  our  own  *  has  given  good  reafons 
to  believe,  that  the  apoftie  Paul,  in  hisepiflle  to  the  Ephe- 
fians,  chap.  v.  ver.  4.  by  "  fihhinefs,  foolifh  talking  and 
''  jelling,''  intended  to  prohibit  the  plays  that  were  then 
in  ufe.  He  alfo  thinks  it  probable,  that  the  word  K:ty>,o/j^ 
uled  in  more  places  than  one,  and  tranflated''  revelling,'^ 
points  at  the  fame  thing.  Whether  his  conjeQures  are 
juit  or  not,  it  is  very  certain  that  thefe,  and  many  other 
paflages,  forbid  the  abufes  of  the  flage  ^  and  if  thefe  abufes 
be  infeparable  from  it,  as  there  is  reafon  to  believe,  there 
needed  no  other  prohibition  of  thenl  to  every  Chriflian. 
Nay,  if  they  never  had  been  feparated  from  it  till  that 
time,  it  was  fufficient ;  and  it  would  be  idle  to  expert 
that  the  fcripture  Ihould  determine  this  problematical 
point,  AVhether  they  woidd  ever  be  fo  in  any  after  age; 
To  afk  that  there  fhould  be  produced  a  prohibition  of  the 
llage,  as  a  llage,  univerfally,  is  to  prefcribe  to  the  Holy 
Ghoil:,  and  to  require  that  the  fcripture  lliould  not  only 
forbid  fm,  but  every  form  in  which  the  refllefs  and  change- 
able difpofitions  of  men  (hall  think  fit  to  be  guilty  of  it, 
and  every  name  by  which  they  Ihall  think  proper  to  call  it* 
I  do  not  find  in  fcripture  any  exprefs  prohibition  of  maf- 
c]uerades,  routs  and  drums  ;  anrl  yet  I  have  not  the  leaft 
doubt,  that  the  aflemblies  called  by  thefe  names,  are  con- 
trary to  the  will  of  God,  and  as  bad,  if  not  worfe,  than  the 
common  and  ordinary  entertainments  of  the  llage. 

In  order  to  make  this  inquiry  as  exa<St  and  accurate  as 
pofTible,  and  that  the  ftrength  or  weaknefs  of  the  argu- 
ments on  either  fide,  may  be  clearly  perceived,  it  will  be 
proper  to  ftate  difiin^lly,  what  we  underftand  by  the  firage, 
or  Ihige-plays,  v;hen  it  is  afi^irmed,  that  in  their  moil  im- 
proved and  belt  regulated  fiate,  they  are  unlawful  to  Chrif- 
tians.  This  is  the  more  necelTary,  that  there  is  a  great  in- 
diflin6lnefs  and  ambiguity  in  the  language  ufed  by  thofc 

*  The  late  Mr.  Anderfoa. 

Vol.  IIL  E 


34  -^  Serious  Inqiihy  into  the 

who,  in  writing  or  converfation,  undertake  to  defend  it. 
They  analyze  and  divide  it  into  parts,  and  take  fometimes 
one  part,  fometimes  another,  as  will  bcii:  fuit  their  pur- 
pofe.  I'hey  afl:,  What  there  can  be  unknvful  in  the  liage 
abilra£ledly  conlidered  ?  Comedy  is  expofmg  the  folly  of 
vice,  and  pointing  out  the  ridiculous  part  of  every  charac- 
ter. And  is  not  this  commendable  ?  Is  not  ridicule  a 
noble  means  of  dlfccuntenancinL'- vice  ?  And  is  not  the 
nfe  of  it  warranted  by  the  fatire  and  irony  that  is  to  be 
found  in  the  lioly  fori ptu res  ?  Tragedy,  they  {ay^  is  pro- 
moting the  fame  end  in  a  way  more  grave  and  folemn.  It 
is  a  nioral  Icclure,  or  a  moral  picture,  in  which  virtue  ap- 
pears to  great  advantage.  Wliat  is  liiflory  iifelf,  but  i-e- 
prefenting  the  charafters  of  men  as  they  actually  were, 
and  plays  reprefent  them  as  they  may  be.  In  their  per- 
fedlion,  plays  are  as  like  hifiory  and  nature,  as  the  poet's 
art  and  adlor's  flvili  can  make  tl-em.  '  Is  it  then  the  cir- 
cumftance  of  their  behig  written  in  dialogue,  that  renders 
them  criminal .''  Who  will  pretend  that  ?  Js  it  that  they 
are  publicly  repeated  or  aiSled  over  ?  ^Vill  any  one  pre- 
tend, that  it  is  a  crime  to  perfonate  a  charadter  in  any 
cafe,  even  where  no  deceit  is  intended  ?  Then  farewel 
parables,  figures  of  fpeech,  and  the  whole  oratorial  art.  Is 
it  a  fm  to  look  upon  the  reprefentation  ?  Then  it  mufl;  be 
a  fm  to  look  upon  the  v/orld,  wlilch  is  the  original,  of 
which  plays  are  the  copy. 

This  is  the  way  which  thofe  \v]\o  a]:)pear  in  defence  of 
the  (1  age  ordinarily  ta.ke,  and  it  is  little  better  than  ifone 
Ihould  fay.  What  Is  a  Oage-play  ?  It  is  r.othing  elfe  ab- 
ilradledly  confidered  but  a  coni[)any  of  men  and  women 
talking  together  ;  Where  is  the  harm  in  that  ?  AVhat  hin- 
ders them  from  talking  pioully  and  jM-ofitabiy,  as  well  as 
wickedly  or  hurtfully  ?  But,  rejeOang  this  method  of 
3*eafoning  as  unjuft  and  inconcluiive,  let  it  be  obferved, 
that  tliofe  Vv'ho  plead  for  tlie  lawful nefs  of  the  flage  in  any 
country,  however  well  regulated,  plead  for  what  im- 
plies, not  by  accident,  but  eflentially  and  of  neceiiity  the 
following  things,  (  i-  )  Such  a  number  of  plays  as  will 
furniih  an  habitual  courfe  of  reprefentations,  with  fuch 
chanc>-es  as  the  love  of  variety  in  human  nature  neceffarilv 


NcUiirc  and  Effects  of  ibe  Stage.  gj 

requires,  (  2.  )  Thefe  plays  of  fuch  a  kind,  as  to  procnre 
an  audience  oi  voluntary  fpe(^ators,  who  are  able  and  wil- 
ling to  pay  for  being  fo  entertained.  (  3.  )  A  company  of 
hired  players,  who  have  this  as  their  only  buFinefs  and 
occupation,  that  they  may  give  theinfelves  wholly  to  it, 
and  be  expert  in  the  performance.  (  4. )  The  reprefenta- 
tioa  muil  be  fo  frequent  as  the  profits  may  defrjy  the  ex- 
pence  of  the  apparatus,  and  maintain  thofe  who  follow 
this  bufmefs.  They  muff  alfo  be  maintained  in  that  mea- 
fure  of  luxury,  or  elegance,  if  you  pleafe,  w^liich  their 
way  of  life,  and  the  thoughts  to  which  they  are  acccuilom- 
ed  muft  make  them  defire  and  require.  It  is  a  thing  ini- 
pra6licable  to  maintain  a  player  at  the  fame  expence  as. 
you  may  maintain  a  peafant. 

Now  all  thefe  things  do,  and  muft  enter  into  the  idea 
of  a  well  regulated  fta.ge  ;  and,  if  any  defend  it  without 
fuppofmg  this,  he  hath  no  adverfary  that  I  know  of. 
Without  thefe  there  may  be  poets,  or  there  may  be  plays, 
but  there  cannot  be  a  play-houfe.  It  is  in  vain  then  to- 
go  about  to  fliow,  that  there  have  been  an  inilance  or  two, 
or  may  be,  of  treatifes  wrote  in  the  form  of  plays  that  are 
unexceptionable.  It  u'ere  eaf}/  to  fatw  very  great  faults 
in  fome  of  thofe  moll  univerfally  applauded,  but  this  is 
unneceffary.  ]  believe  it  is  very  poilible  to  write  a  trea- 
tifeinthe  form  of  a  dialogue,  in  which  the  general  rules. 
of  the  drama  are  obferved,  which  fliall  be  as  wholly  and  fe- 
rious,  as  any  fermon  that  ever  was  preached  or  printed.. 
Neither  is  there  any  apparent  impoflibility  in  getting 
diHerent  perfons  to  aifume  the  different  charaders,  and 
rehearle  it  in  fociety.  But  it  may  be  fafely  adirmsd,  that 
if  all  plays  v/ere  of  that  kind,  and  human  nature  to  con- 
tinue in  its  prefent  ftate,  the  doors  of  the  play-houfe  V;'oukI 
fliut  of  their  ovv'n  accord,  becaufe  nobody  would  demand 
accefs*  ;  unlefs  there  were  an  a6l  of  parliamient  to  force 
attendance,  and  even  in  that  cafe,  as  much  pains  would 

*  J  his  fiirniniv^s  an  eafy  anf'sver  to  what  is  remarked  by  fome  in  fa- 
vor of  phiys,  that  fcveral  eminent  Ghriftians  have  er^deavored  to 
iupplant  bad  plays  by  writing  good  ones;  as  Gregory  Nazienzen  a  fa-- 
therof  the  church,  and  a  perfon  of  great  piety,  and  our  countryman 
Bt'chsinan,     Bj4t  did  ever  thefe  plays  coir.c  i\io  repute  ?    Weie  the> 


3(S  A  Scrims  Inquiry  'mta  the 

probably  be  taken  to  evade  the  law  obliging  to  attend,  rrS, 
are  now  taken  to  evade  thofe  that  command  us  to  abftain. 
The  fair  and  plain  Hate  of  this  queftion  then  is,  Whether 
it  is  poffible  or  practicable,  in  the  prefent  itate  of  human 
nature,  to  have  the  above  fyflem  of  things  under  fo  good 
a  regulation,  as  to  make  the  erecting  and  countenancing 
the  ftage  agreeable  to  the  will  of  God,  and  confiltent  with 
the  purity  of  the  Chrillian  profeiTion. 

And  here  let  us  confider  a  little,  what  is  the  primary,, 
and  immediate  intention  of  the  ftage,  whether  it  be  for  a- 
mufement  and  recreation,  or. -for  inilruction  to  -make  men. 
"wife  and  good.  Perhaps,  indeed  the  greateft  part  will- 
chooie  to  compound  thefe  two  purpofes  together,  and  fay 
it  is  for  both  :  for  amufement  immediately,  and  for  im- 
provement ultimately,  that  it  inilruCls  by  pleafing,  and 
reforms  by  ilealth.  The  patrons  of  a  v/ell  regulated  ftage 
have  it  no  doubt  in  their  power  to  profefs  any  of  thefe  ends 
in  it  they  pleaie,  if  it  is  equally  capabk*  of  them  all ;  and 
therefore  in  one  part  or  other  of  this  difcourfe,  it  muft  be 
confidered  in  every  one  of  thefe  lights.  But  as  it  is  of 
moment,  becaufe  of  fome  of  the  arguments  to  be  afierwards 
produced,  let  the  reader  be  pleafed  to  conilder,  how  far 
recreation  and  am.ufement  enter  into  the  nature  of  the 
ftage,  and  are,  not  only  immediately  and  primaril}\ 
but  chiefly  and  ultimately  intended  b)^  it. 

If  the  general  nature  of  it,  or  the  end  propofed  from- 
it  when  well  regulated,  can  be  any  way  determined  from 
its  firft  inftitution,  and  the  fubfequent  practice,  it  feems 
plainly  to  point  at  amufement.  Tlie  ecirlieft  prodiiclions 
of  that  kind  that  are  now  extant,  are  evidently  incapable 
of  any  other  ufe,  and  hardly  even  of  that  to  a  perion  of 
any  tafte  or  judgment*.     They  ufualb/  accompanied  the 

Ibrmerly,  or  are  they  now  aclecl  upon  the  na;?^e  ?  the  fate  of  their  works 
proves  that  thefe  good  men  judged  wronf<"  in  attemptiiig  to  reform  the. 
Aage,  and  that  the  great  majority  of  Cliiidlans  ucled  more  wifely  who 
•were  for  laying  it  wholly  afide. 

*  This  is  confcfTed  by  a  defender  of  the  fiage,  Vv-ho  fays,  "Such 
*f^  of  the  comedies  before  his  (that  is  Menander's)  time,  as  have  been 
*.*.  preferved  to  us,  are  generally  very  poor  pieces,  not  fo  much  ludi- 
*,*.  crous  as  ridiculous,    even  a  mountebank's    nierry  andrew  would  ^%- 


Nature  and  Efects  of  the  Stage.  37 

feafls  of  the  ancients  in  thehoufesof  the  rich  and  opulent*, 
and  were  particularly  ufed  in  times  o^  public  rejoicing. 
They  have  indeed  generally  been  confidered,  in  all  ages, 
as  intended  for  entertainment,  A  modern  author  of  high 
rank  and  reputation|,  who  would  not  willingly  hurt  the 
caufe,  conficlcrs  them  in  this  light,  and  this  alone,  and 
reprefents  their  improvement,  not  as  lying  in  their  having 
a  greater  moral  tendency,  but  in  the  perfediion  of  the  po- 
et's art,  and  the  refinement  of  the  tafce  of  the  audience. 
It  is  only  of  late  that  men  have  begun  to  dignif}^  them  with 
a  higher  title.  Formerly  they  were  ever  confidered  as  an 
indulgence  of  pleafure,  and  an  article  of  luxury,  but 
now  they  are  exalted  into'fchools  of  virtue,  and  rcpre- 
fented  as  bulwarks  againft  vice.  It  is  probable,  mod  rea- 
ders \w\\\  be  apt  to  fmilc  when  they  hear  them  [0  called,, 
and  to  fay  to  their  defenders,  This  is  but  overdoing,  pre- 
ferve  them  to  us  as  innocent  amufements,  and  we  ihall 
not  much  contend  for  their  ufefulnefs.  It  is  indeed  but 
an  evidence  of  the  diftrefs  of  the  caufe,  for  their  advo- 
cates only  take  up  this  plea  wdien  tliey  are  unable  to  an- 
fwer  the  arguments  apainft  them  upon  any  other  footing. 
It  may  alfo  appear  that  they  are  defigned  for  amufement, 
if  we  coniider  who  have  been  the  perfons  in  all  ages  v/ho 
have  attended  them,  viz.  the  rich,  the  young,  and  the 
gay,  thofe  who  live  In  pleafure,  and  the  very  bufuiefs  of 
whcfe  lives  is  amufement. 

But  not  to  infill  on  thefe  circumfiances,  I  think  it  is 
plain  from  the  nature  of  the  thing,  tha.t  the  immediate 
intention  of  plays  is  to  pleafe,  whatever  effects  may  be 
pretended  to  flov/  afterwards,  or  by  accident,  from  this 
pleafure.  They  confifi:  in  an  exa6t  imitation  of  nature^ 
and  the  conformity  of  the  perfonated  to  real   characters. 

<*  hiffcd,  now  a  days,  for  fucli  puerilities  as  v/e  fee  abounding  in  A-. 
"  riRcphanes."  Hem.  en  Anderfon's  Poiiilons  coricerning  the  unlaw- 
ful nefs  of  ftage-plays,  page  8th. 

*  Plat.deGlor.  Athens  8c  Sympof.  lib.  7.  qucfh  8.  "  As  for  the 
^'  new  comedy,  it  isfo  neceffary  an  ingredient  of  all  public  entertain- 
*'  ments,  that  fo  10  fpeak,  one  may  as  well  make  a  feall  without  wine,. 
^'  as  vi:ithout  Mcnander." 

\  Shaft&ury„ 


38  ^  SeriGiis  Inquiry  into  the 

This  is  the  great  aim,  and  th6  great  perfe6lion,  both  of 
'the  poet  and  of  the  adors.  Now  this  imitation,  of  itfelf^ 
gives  great  pleauire  to  the  fpedator,  whether  the  actions 
reprefented  are  good  or  bad.  And,  in  itfelf  confidered,. 
it  gives  only  plcafure  ;  for  the  beauty  of  tlie  imitation, 
as  fuch,  hath  no  moral  influence^  nor  any  connc6lion 
with  mondity,  but  what  it  may  derive  in  a  didant  way 
from  the  nature  of  the  actions  which  the  poet  or  aCtors 
choofe  to  reprefent,  or  the  ipecliators  are  willing  to  fee. 
Every  pcrfon  who  thinks  impartially,  may  be  from  this 
convinced,  that  to  pleafe,  or  attempt  to  do  fo,  is  ePiential 
to  the  llage,  and  its  firft,  or  rather  its  main  defign  ;  ]iow 
far  it  pollutes  or  purifies  is  accidental,  and  mull  depend 
upon  the  llciil  and  honedy  of  its  regulators  and  miana- 
gers. 

Having  thus  prepared  the  way,  tlie  following  argu- 
ments are  humbly  ofiered  to  the  confideratlon  of  every 
ferious  perfon,  to  fhew,  that  a  public  theatre  is  inconfif- 
tent  with  the  purity  of  the  Chrillian  profeffion :  wdiich 
if  they  do  not  to  all  appear  to  be  each  of  them  fmgly 
conclufive,  will  I  hope,  Vv'hen  taken  together,  fufPiciently 
evince  the  truth  of  the  propofition. 

In  the  firll  place,  If  it  be  conndered  as  en  amufement, 
it  is  improper,  and  not  fuch  as  any  Chrifcian  may  lav/- 
fully  ufe.  Here  we  m.ull  begin  by  laying  it  down  as  a 
fundamental  principle,  that  all  men  are  bound  fupreme- 
]y  to  love,  and  habitually  to  ferve  God  ;  that  is  to  fay, 
to  take  his  law  as  the  rule,  and  his  glory  as  the  end, 
not  of  one,  but  of  ail  their  anions.  No  m.an,  at  any 
time  or  place  is,  nor  can  be,  abfolved  from  this  ob- 
ligation. Every  real  Chriftian  lives  under  an  habitual 
fenfe  of  it.  I  know  this  expreffion,  aiming,  at  the  glory 
of  God,  is  called  a  cant  phrafe,  and  is  defpifed  and  de- 
rided by  worldly  men.  It  were  eafy  however,  to  vindi- 
cate it  from  reafon  ;  but  it  will  fuffice,  to  all  thofe  for 
whofe  ufe  this  difcourfe  is  intended,  to  fay,  It  is  a  truth 
taught  and  repeated  in  the  facred  oracles,  that  all  things 
were  made  for,  that  all  things  fliall  finally  tend  to,  and 
therefore,  that  all  intelligent  creatures  fliould  fupremelr 
and   uniformly  aim  at  the  glory  of  God. 


'Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage,  5# 

Now,  we  glorify  God  by  cultivating  holy  difpofitions, 
tind  doing  pious  a.nd  ufeful  actions.  Recreation  is  an 
intermillion  of  duty,  and  is  only  necellary  becaufe  of 
our  wealmefs  ;  it  mufl  be  fome  adlion  indifferent  in  its 
nature,  which  becomes  lawful  and  ufeful  from  its  tenden- 
cy to  rcfreih  the  mind,  and  invigorate  it  for  duties  of 
more  importance.  The  ufc  of  recreation  is  precifely  the 
fame  as  the  ufe  of  flecp  ;  though  they  differ  in  this, 
that  there  is  but  one  way  in  which  Heep  becomes  fmful, 
viz.  by  excefs,  whereas  there  are  ten  thoufand  ways  in 
which  recreations  become  fmful.  It  is  needlefs  to  pro- 
duce  paflages  of  Scripture  to  verify  the  above  affertion 
concerning  our  obligation  to  glorify  God.  It  is  the  lan- 
guage of  the  whole,  and  is  particularly  applied  to  indif- 
ferent actions  by  the  apoflle  Paul,  i  Cor.  x.  13.  ''  Whe- 
''  ther  therefore  ve  eat  or  drink,  or  wdiatfoever  ve  do, 
"  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God." 

If  there  were  on  the  minds  of  men  in  general,  a  juft 
fenfe  of  this  their  obligation,  itage-plays,  nay,  and  a 
thoufand  other  amufements  now  in  ufe,  would  never 
have  been  heard  of.  The  truth  is,  the  need  of  amufe- 
ment  is  much  lefs  than  people  commonly  apprehend, 
and,  where  it  is  not  neceffary,  it  mufl  be  fmfuL  Thofe 
who  Hand  in  need  of  recreation  may  be  divided  into  two 
forts,  fuch  as  are  employed  in  bodily  labor,  and  fuch 
as  have  their  ipirits  often  exhauiled  by  fludy  and  ap- 
plication of  mind.  As  to  the  firft  of  thefe,  a  mere  cef. 
fation  from  labor  is  fuflicient  for  refrefliment,  and  in- 
deed of  itfdf  gives  great  plcafu re,  unkfs  when  the  appe- 
tites are  inflamed  and  iritated  by  frequent  lenfaal  grati- 
fications; and  then  they  arc  importunately  craved,  and 
become  neceffary  to  fill  the  intervals  of  work.  Of  this 
Ibrt  very  few  are  able  to  afford  fo  expenfive  a  recreation 
as  the  flage.  And  even  as  to  the  other,  viz.  thofe  whole 
fpirits  are  exhauiled  by  application  of  mind,  c!ily  a  very 
fmall  m umber  of  them  will  chufe  the  diverfion  of  the 
flage,  for  this  very  good  realbn,  .that  focial  converfe  and 
bodily  exercife,  will  anfwer  the  purpofe  much  better. 
Indeed,  if  we  confider  the  jud  and  legitimate  end  of  re- 
creations, and  compare  it  with  tlie  perfons  who  mofl  fre- 


46,  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

quently  engage  in  them,  we  lliall  find,  that  ninety-nine 
of  every  hundred  are  fuch  as  do  not  need  recreation  at 
all.  Perhaps  their  time  lies  heavy  upon  their  hands, 
and  they  feel  an  uneafmefs  and  impatience  under  their 
prefent  Hate ;  but  this  is  not  from  work,  but  from  idle^ 
nefs,  and  from  the  emptinefs  and  unlatisfying  nature  of 
the  enjoyments,  which  they  chafe  with  fo  much  eagernefs, 
one  after  another,  vainly  feeking  from  them  that  good 
which  they  do  not  contain,  and  that  fatisfaclion  which 
liiey  cannot  impart. 

From  this  I  think  it  undeniably  appears,  that  if  no  body 
w^ere  to  attend  the  ftage,  but  fuch  as  real!}'  needed  recrea- 
tion or  amufement,  uponChriftian  principles,  and  of  ihefe 
fuch   only  as  were  able  to  pay  for  it,  and  of  thefe  only 
fuch  as  did  themfelves  chufe  it,  there  is  not  a  place  this 
day  in  the  world  fo  large  as  to  afford  a  daily  audience. 
It  will  be  immediately  objected.  This  argument,  make  as 
much  of  it  as  you  pleafe,  is  not  compleat,  for  it  hinders 
not  but  that  fome,  however  few,  may  attend  in  a  proper 
manner,  and  with  warrantable  views.     But  let  it  be  re- 
membered, that  I  attack  not  a  play  fmgly  as  a  play,  nor 
one  perfon  for  being  a  witnefs  to  a  thing  of  that  nature, 
but  the  llage  as  a  fyllem  containing  all  the  branches  I  have 
enumerated   above.     This  cannot  fubfill  without  a  full 
audience,  and  frequent  attendance  ;   and  therefore  is,  by 
its  conftitution,  a  conflant  and  powerful  invitation  to  fin, 
and  cannot  be  maintained  but  by  the  commiflion  of  it. 
Perhaps  fome  will  flill  object,  that  this  argument  is  too 
finely  fpun,  that  it  feems  to  deniand  perfetlion,   and  to 
find  fault  with  every  pradlice,  in  which  there  is  a  proba- 
bility that  fm  will  be  committed.     That,  if  this  holds,  we 
ihould  no  more  contribute  to  the  edablifhmcnt  of  churches 
than  play-houfes,  becaufe  we  have  a  moral  certainty,  that 
no  congregation   ever  will  meet  together  on  earth,  but 
much  fm  will  be  committed,  both  by  miniiler  and  people. 
But  there  is  a  great  difference  between  a  commanded  du- 
ty w^hich  is  attended  with  fm  by  defed,   and  what  is  no 
where  commanded,  which  necelfarily  invites  to  fm  by  its 
nature,  and  is  in  fubflance  linful  to  the  great  majority  of 
thofe  who  attend  it. 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage,  41: 

Bat  fLirtlicr,  the Ttage  is  an  improper,  that  is  to  fay,  an 
unlawful  recreation  to  all  without  exception,  becaufe  it 
confumcs  too  much  time.  This  is  a  circumftance  which, 
however  litde  impreilion  it  may  make  upon  thofe  who 
find  their  time  often  a  burden,  will  appear  of  the  greateft 
moment  to  every  ferious  Chriilian.  In  proportion  as  any 
man  improves  in  holinefs  of  heart,  he  increafes  in  ufeful- 
nefs  of  life,  ?.nd  acquires  a  deeper  and  ftronger  fenfe  of 
the  worth  and  value  of  time.  To  fpend  an  hour  unpro- 
■fitably,  appears  to  fuch  a  perfon  a  greater  crime,  than  to 
maT:iy  the  commilTion  of  grofs  fm.  And,  indeed  it  ought 
to  appear  very  heinous  in  the  eyes  of  thofe  who  believe 
the  reprefentation  given  by  our  Lord  Jefus  Chrift,  of  his 
own  procedure  at  the  day  of  judgment,  "  Caft  ye  the  un- 
''  FROFiTABLE  fervant  into  utter  darknefs,  where  there 
*'  fliall  be  weeping  and  wailing,  and  gnafhing  of  teeth." 
Matt.  XXV.  30.  Mark  this,  ye  lovers  of  pleafure,  ye  fons 
of  gaiety  and  mirth,  w^ho  imagine  you  arc  fent  into  the 
world  for  no  higher  end  than  your  own  entertainment ; 
and  who,  if  you  are  free  from,  or  able  any  how  to  palliate 
your  grofTer  fms,  never  once  reflect  on  the  heavy  account 
^gainft  you  of  wailed  time. 

Though  there  were  no  other  obje^lion  againft  the  ftage? 
as  a  recreation,  but  this  one,  it  is  furely  faulty,  if  recre- 
ations are  only  lawful  becaufe  necelTary,  they  mull  ceafe 
to  be  lawful  when  they  are  no  longer  necelTary.  The 
length  and  duration  of  regular  comedy  and  tragedy  is 
already  fixed  and  fettled  by  rules  of  long  Handing  ;  and, 
I  fuppofe,  whatever  other  circumflance  may  be  confeifed 
to  need  reformation,  all  men  of  tade  will  agree,  that  thefe 
lliall  continue  as  they  are.  Now  Ileave  to  all  who  know 
how  much  time  the  preparation  for  fuch  a  public  appeai'- 
ance,  and  the  neceifary  attendance,  muft  take  up,  to 
judge,  whether  it  is  not  too  much  to  be  given  to  mere  re- 
creation. 

This  holds  particularly  in  the  cafe  ofrecreatJon  of  mlnd^ 
between  which  and  bodily  exercife  there  is  a  very  great 
differcsnce.     For  bodily  exercife  in  Ibme    cafes,  for  ex- 
ample, when  the  health  requires  it,  may  be  continued  for 
a  long  time,  only  for  this  reafon,  that  it  may  have  efTects 

Vol.  in.  F 


4it  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

lading  in  proportion  to  the  time  fpent  in  it.  But  giving 
the  mind  to  pleafure  by  way  of  recreation  mufl  be  fliort, 
or  it  is  certainly  hurtful ;  it  gives  men  a  habit  of  idlenefs 
and  trifling,  and  makes  them  averfe  from  returning  to  any 
thing  that  requires  ferious  application.  So  true  is  this, 
and  fo  apphcable  to  the  prefent  cafe,  that  I  could  aimoil 
reit  the  whole  arp:un:^ent  upon  it,  that  no  man,  who  has 
made  the  trial,  can  deliberately  and  with  a  good  confci- 
ence  affirm,  that  attending  plays  has  added  firength  to 
his  mind,  and  warmth  to  his  affections,  in  the  duties  of 
devotion  ;  that  it  has  made  him  more  able  and  willing  to 
exert  his  intellectual  pov/ers  in  the  graver  and  more  im- 
portant offices  of  the  Chriflian  life  ;  nay,  or  even  made 
him  more  diligent  and  active  in  the  bufmefs  of  civil  life. 
On  the  contrary,  it  is  commonly  to  fuch  length  as  to  pro- 
duce a  fatiety  and  weafinefs  of  itfelf,  and  to  require  reft 
and  refrefhment  to  recruit  the  exhaufted  fpirits,  a  thing 
quite  abfurd  and  felf-contradictory  in  what  is  called  a  re^ 
creation. 

But  the  ftage  is  not  merely  ail  tmprofitable  confump- 
tion  of  time,  it  is  further  improper  as  a  recreation,  becaufe 
it  agitates  the  paffions  too  violently,  and  interefts  too 
deeply,  fo  as,  in  fome  cafes,  to  bring  people  into  a  real, 
while  they  behold  an  imaginary  diftrefs.  Keeping  in 
view  the  end  of  recreations,  will  enable  us  to  judge  right- 
ly of  this.  It  is  to  refrefli  and  invigorate  the  mind. — 
Therefore  when,  inftead  of  reft,  vv^hich  is  properly  called 
relaxation  of  mind^  recreations  are  ufed,  their  excellence 
confifts  in  their  being,  not  only  a  pleafant,  but  an  eafy 
cxercife  of  the  intellectual  powers.  Whatever  is  difficult, 
and  either  requires  or  caufes  a  ftrong  application  of  mind, 
is  contrary  to  their  intention.  Now  it  is  plain,  that 
dramatic  reprefentations  iix  the  attention  fo  very  deeply, 
and  intereft  the  affections  fo  very  ftrongiy,  that,  in  a  little 
time,  they  fatigue  the  mind  themfelves,  arid  however  ea- 
gerly are  they  defired  and  followed,  there  are  many  ferious 
and  ufeful  occupations,  in  which  men  v/ill  continue  lon- 
ger, without  exhaufting  the  fpirits,  than  in  attending  the 
theatre* 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage.  43 

Indeed,  in  this  refpc6t  they  are  wliolly  conti  ^ry  to  what 
ihould  be  the  view  of  every  Chriilian.  He  ought  to  fet 
bounds  to,  and  endeavor  to  moderate  hia  palRons  as  much 
as  polfible,  inflead  of  voluntarily  and  unnecefl'arily  exci- 
ting them.  The  human  paffions,  fmce  the  fall,  are  all  of 
them  but  too  ilrong  ;  and  are  not  fmful  on  account  of 
their  vveaknefs,  but  their  excefs  and  mifapplication.  This 
is  fo  generally  true,  that  it  hardly  admits  of  an  exception  ; 
unlefs  it  mij^ht  he  counted  an  exception,  that  fome  vicious 
palTions,  when  they  gain  an  afcendancy,  extinguifli  others 
which  oppofe  their  gratincation.  For,  though  religion  is 
copJiflent  tliroao;houl",  there  are  many  vices,  which  are 
rautually  repugnant  to,  and  defhruttive  of,  each  other. 
But  this  exception  has  littk  ox  no  effect  upon  the  prefent 
argument. 

Now  the  great  care  of  every  Chriilian,  is  to  keep  his 
pafnons  and  affcflions  within  due  bounds,  and  to  diredl 
them  to  their  proper  objedla.  With  refpeft  to  the  firft  of 
thefe,  the  chief  influence  of  theatrical  reprefentations  up- 
on the  fpc(?:at0F,  is  to  (Irengthen  the  p.affions  by  indul- 
gence ;  for  there  they  arc  all  exhibited  in  a  lively  man- 
ner, and  fu^h  as  is  moft  fit  to  communicate  the  imprcf- 
ficn.  As  to  dircdiing  taem  to  their  proper  obje(^s,  it  will 
be  afterwards  ihown,  that  the  it^gc  has  rather  the  contrary 
^uQxit ;  in  the  mean  time,  it  is  fufiicient  to  x)bferve,  that 
it  may  be  done  much  more  effedlually,  and  much  more 
fai\:;]y  another  way. 

This  tendency  af  plays  to  intereft  the  affe6lions,  fliows 
their  impropriety  as  a  recreation  on  another  account.  It 
fhows  that  they  mull  be  exceeding  liable  to  abufe  by  ex- 
cefs, even  fuppofmg  them  in  a  certain  degree  to  be  inno- 
cent. It  is  certain  there  is  no  life  more  unworthy  of  a 
man,  hardly  any  more  criminal  in  a  Chriftian,  than  a  life 
of  perpetual  amufement,  a  life  where  no  valuable  purpofe 
is  purfued,  but  the  intelie^lual  faculties  wholly  employed 
in  purchafmg  and  indulging  fcnfual  gratifications.  It  is. 
alfo  certain,  that  all  of  us  are  by  nature  too  much  in- 
clined thus  to  live  to  ourfelves,  and  not  to  God.  There- 
fore, where  recreations  are  necefiary,  a  watchful  Chrifii- 
jiH  will  particularly  beware  of  thofe  that  are  infuanngj, 


44  ^  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

and,  by  being  too  grateful  and  delicious,  ready  to  lead 
to  excels.  This  difcriminating  care  and  caution,  is  jull 
{IS  much  the  duty  of  a  Chrillian,  as  any  that  can  be  nam- 
ed. Though  it  is  immediately  converfant  only  about 
the  temptations  and  incitements  to  fm,  and  not  the  ac- 
tual commilfjon  of  it,  it  becomes  a  duty  dire(!lly  bind- 
ing, both  from  the  command  of  God,  and  the  neceility 
ol  the  thing  itfelf.  *"  Watch  and  pray,  that  ye  enter  not 
*'  into  temptation,'^  Mat.  xxvi.  41.  lays  our  Saviour  to 
all  his  diiciples  ;  and  ellcwhere,  '^  What  I  lay  unto  you, 
^'  I  fay  unto  all,  Watch,"  Mark  xiii.  37.  And  the 
apoltlePaul  to  the  fame  purpofe,  ''  See  then  that  yc  walk 
"  circumfpe6lly,  not  as  iools,  but  as  wife,  redeeming 
*^  the  time  becaufe  the  days  are  evil,"  Eph.  v.  15. 

If  we  confider  the  light  in  which  the  Scripture  fets 
our  prefent  fituation,  and  the  account  there  given  of  the 
weaknefj  of  human  refolution,  the  fame  thing  will  evi- 
dently appear  to  be  our  duty.  It  is  impoffible  that  wc 
can  refill  the  flightell  temptation,  but  by  the  aflillancc 
of  divine  grace.  Now  how  can  this  be  expelled,  if  we 
put  our  conftancyto  unneceflary  trials,  not  only  contra- 
ry to  reafon,  and  a  prudent  regard  to  our  own  fafet/, 
but  in  the  face  of  an  expreis  command  of  God  to  be 
watchful.  ''  Lord,  lead  us  not  into  temptation,"  is  a 
petition  vv^hich  we  are  tau'j^ht  to  oiler  up,  by  him  who- 
knev/  what  was  in  man.  But  how  much  do  thofe  ait  in 
oppofition  to  this,  and  even  in  contempt  of  it,  v/ho  make 
temptations  to  themfelves.  z\nd  are  not  llage- plays 
temptations  of  the  fLrongeft  kind,  in  which  the  mind  is 
foftened  with  pleafure,  and  the  affciSlions  powerfully  ex- 
cited ?  How  little  reafon  is  thereto  hope  that  men  in  the 
ule  of  them  will  keep  within  the  bounds  of  moderation  ? 
If  any  expedt,  in  fuch  circumflances,  to  be  preferved  by 
divine  power,  they  are  guilty  of  the  lln,  wlilcli  is  in 
Scripture  called  "*  tempting  God." 

It  is  this  very  circumflancc,  a  liablenefs  to  abufe  by 
excefs,  that  renders  many  other  anmfements  alfo  ordina- 
rily unlawful  to  Chrillians,  though,  perhaps,  in  their  ge- 
neral nature,  they  cannot  be  fliown  to  be  criminal. 
Thus  it  is  not  c'cSy  to  refute  the  reafonings,  by  which  in- 


Nature  and  Ejfecls  of  the  Stjge.  45- 

genlous  men  endeavor  to  fiiow  that  gaiiies  cf  hazard 
are  not  in  theiiifelves  finfui ;  but  by  their  enticing, 
inlharing  nature,  and  the  excefs  which  ahrioO:  inlepa- 
rably  accompanies  them,  there  can  be  no  difficulty  in 
pronouncing  them  highly  dangerous,  lawful  to  very  few 
perfons,  and  in  very  few  cafes.  And,  if  they  were  as 
public  in  their  nature  as  plays,  if  they  required  the  con- 
currence of  as  many  Operators,  and  as  great  a  number 
of  perfons  to  join  in  them,  i  could  have  little  Icruple 
in  affirming,  that,  in  every  poflible  cafe,  they  would  be 
llniul. 

The  preceding  confiderations  are  greatly  confirmed  by 
the  follov/ing,  I'hat  when  pia3'S  arc  chofen  as  a  recreation, 
for  which  they  are  ^o  exceedingly  improper,  it  is  always 
in  oppuiirion  to  other  methods  of  recreation,  which  are 
perfedlly  vx  for  the  purpole,  and  not  liable  to  any  of 
thefe  objedlions.  V/here  reci cations  are  neceiLry,  if 
there  were  only  one  fort  to  be  had,  fome  inconvcnien- 
cies  could  not  be  fo  flrong  an  argument  againll  the  ufe 
of  them.  But  where  there  are  different  kinds,  to  pre- 
fer thofc  Vvhich  are  lefs,  to  thofe  which  are  more  fit, 
muft  needs  be  fmful.  Such  a  tendernefs  and  circum- 
fpedtion  is  indeed,  in  this  age,  fo  rare  and  unufual,  that 
I  am  afraid,  it  will  be  ahTiolf  impoffiblc  to  fix  a  ^fzii^a.  of 
its  importance  upon  the  mind  of  the  reader  ;  or,  if  it 
be  done,  in  any  meafure  for  a  time,  the  example  of  a 
corrupt  world,  who  are  altogether  void  of  it,  will  imme- 
diately efface  the  impreffion.  But,  however  few  may 
''  have  ears  to  hear  it,''  the  thing  is  certain,  that  as  th^ 
progrefs  of  his  fandtification  is  the  fupreme  defire  and 
care  of  every  ChrilHan,  fo  he  is  continually  liabk'  to  be 
feduced  by  temptation,  and  infeCled  by  example ;  and 
therefore,  from  a  diilrufl:  of  his  ovv-n  rcfolutlon,  will  not 
voluntarily  and  unneceffarily  prefer  a  dangerous  to  a 
fafe  amufement.  To  prefer  a  very  diiRcult  and  doubt- 
ful means  of  attaining  any  worldly  end,  to  one  fure  and 
eafy  ;  to  prefer  a  clumfy  improper  inilrument,  to  one 
pcrfeiStly  fit  for  any  piece  of  v/ork,  would  be  reckoned  no 
fmall  evidence  of  folly  in  the  affairs  of  civil  life.  If  one 
in  ficknels  fhould  chufe  a  medicine  of  a  very  queilioaa- 


46  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

ble  nature,  of  very  dangerous  and  uncertain  operation^ 
when  he  had  equal  acccfs  to  one  intirely  fafe,  of  ap- 
proved reputation  and  fuperior  efFicacy,  it  would  be  ei- 
teemed  next  to  madnefs.  Is  there  not  then  a  real  con- 
formity between  the  cafes  ?  Is  not  a  like  care  to  be  taken 
of  our  fouls  as  of  our  bodies  ?  Nay,  is  not  the  obligati- 
on {o  much  the  flronger,  by  how  much  the  one  is  of 
greater  value  than  the  odier  ?  The  different  conduct  of 
men,  and  their  different  fate  in  this  refped,  is  well  de- 
fcribed  by  the  wife  man,  ''  Happy  is  the  man  that  feareth 
"  alvvay,  but  he  that  hardcneth  his  heart  fliall  fall  into- 
•'  mifchief,"  Prov.  xxviii.  14. 

It  ought  not  to  be  omitted  in  iliewing  the  impropriety 
of  the  flagc  as  a  recreation  and  amufement  for  Cnrifli- 
ans,  that  it  is  coflly  and  expenfive,  and  that  this  coft  is, 
altogether  unncccffary,  faice  the  end  might  be  obtained, 
not  only  as  v/ell,  but  much  better,  at  a  far  cheaper  rate  ; 
perhfips,  in  moR  cafes,  at  no  expcnce  at  all.  I  know 
this  argument  will  be  treated  with  great  contempt  by 
thofc  who  live  in  affluence,  and  know  no  otlier  ufe  of 
riches  but  to  feed  their  appetites,  and  make  all  the  reft 
of  mankind  fubfervient  to  the  gratification  of  their  vio- 
lent and  ungovernable  defires.  But  though  none  in  this 
world  have  any  title  to  hinder  them  from  difpoiirig  of  tiieir 
w^calth  as  they  pleafe,  they  mufl:  be  called  to  confider, 
that  they  have  a  mailer  in  heaven.  To  him  they  mufl: 
render  an  account  at  the  laft  day,  and,  in  this  account, 
the  ufe  that  they  make  of  their  riches  is  not  to  be  ex- 
cepted. The  great  have,  no  doubt,  the  dillinguiflied  ho- 
nor, if  they  pleafe  to  embrace  it,  of  contributing  to  the 
happinefs  of  miultitudes  under  them,  and  diipcnfuig,  un- 
der God,  a  great  variety  of  the  comforts  of  this  life.  But 
it  would  abate  the  envy  and  impatience  of  the  lower  part 
of  th©  world,  and  moderate  their  appetite  after  riches,  if 
they  would  confider,  that  the  more  that  is  committed  to 
them,  the  more  they  have  to  account  for.  The  greateft 
and  richeft  man  on  earth  hath  not  any  licence  in  the  word 
of  God,  for  an  unneceffary  wade  of  his  fubflance,  or 
confuming  it  in  unprofitable  and  hurtful  pleafures ;  and^ 
pnder  the  one  or  both  of  thefe  charaders,  that  mufl:  fallj^ 
that  is  laid  out  upon  the  ftage. 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage^  47 

Let  not  any  reader,  who  cannot  find  a  fatisfying  an- 
fwer  to  thefe  objedtions  againfl  the  llage  as  an  unchriftiail 
ainaiement,  iroin  the  word  of  God,  take  the  pra6lice  of 
the  world  as  a  refuge  or  fandluary,  and  fay,  This  is  car- 
rying matters  to  an  extreme ;  if  thefe  maxims  are  rigidly 
aabered  to,  you  will  exclude  from  the  number  of  Chrif- 
tians,  not  only  the  far  greater  part  of  mankind,  but  many 
cthervvife  ot  excellent  and  amiable  characters.  Though 
this  is  the  weakeft  of  all  arguments,  it  is,  perhaps,  that 
waich  hath  of  all  others  the  ftrongeft  effect,  and  moft 
powerfully  contributes  to  fet  people's  minds  at  cafe  in  a 
doubtful  or  dangerous  praftice.  How  hard  is  it  to  make 
men  fenfible  of  the  evil  of  fuch  fms  as  cuftom  authorifes, 
and  ialhion  jullifies  ?  There  is  no  making  them  aihamed 
of  them,  bccauie  they  are  common  and  reputable,  and 
there  is  no  making  them  afraid  of  what  they  fee  done, 
without  fufpicion  by  numbers  on  every  hand.  But  is 
there  any  rcafon  to  believe,  that  the  example  of  others 
wall  prove  a  jufl  and  valid  excufe  for  any  practice  at  the 
judgment  feat  of  Chrifl  ?  Will  the  greatnefs  or  the  num- 
ber of  offenders  fcreen  them  from  his  power  ?  Or  can 
that  man  expedt  a  gracious  acceptance  with  him,  who  has 
fulfered  his  commands  to  be  qualified  by  prevailing  opi- 
nion, and  w^ould  not  follow  him  farther  than  the  bulk  of 
mankind  v;ould  bear  him  company. 

I  fhall  clofe  the  reflections  upon  this  part  of  the  fub- 
je6t  by  ebferving,  that  there  are  two  general  characters 
of  the  difciples  ot  Chrifl,  which  will  appear,  if  we  confult 
the  fcriptures,  to  be  effential  to  them,  and  which  feem 
altogether  inconfiftent  with  theatrical  amufements.  The 
firft  is  felf-denial  and  mortification.  Though  we  fhould 
not  infiit  upon  the  particular  objections  agalnft  the  flage, 
there  is  fomething  of  pomp  and  gaiety  in  it,  on  the  beft 
pofTible  fuppofition,  that  is  inconfiftent  wnth  the  charac- 
ter of  a  Chriliian.  The  gofpel  is  the  religion  of  fmners, 
who  are  faved  from  wrath  by  the  rich  mercy  and  free 
grace  of  God.  The  life  of  fuch  then,  mufi;  be  a  life  of 
penitence,  humility,  and  mortification.  The  followers 
of  a  crucified  Saviour  m.uft  bear  the  crofs,  and  tread  in 
the  fame  path  of  fuftering  and  felf  denial,   in  which  he 


^8  -A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

hath  ppne  before  them.  In  their  baptlfmal  covenant  they 
renounce  the  world,  by  which  is  not  meant  fuch  grofs 
crimes  as  are  a  violation  of  natural  light,  as  well  as  a 
tranfgreiTion  of  the  law  of  God,  but  that  excelTive  at- 
tachment to  prefent  indulgence,  which  is  more  properly 
cxprelTcd  by  the  pomp  and  vanity  of  the  world*.  It  is 
true  there  are  many  precepts  in  Scripture,  which  require 
us  to  maintain  an  habitual  gratitude  and  thankful  frame 
of  fpirit,  nay,  to  rejoice  ni  th-::  Lord  alway.  But  there  is 
a  great  difference  between  this  joy,  and  th^t  of  worldly 
men  ;  as  they  do  not  rife  from  the  fame  fource,  fo  they 
cannot  pofiibly  exprefs  themfelves  in  the  fame  way. 

Another  branch  of  the  Chriftian  temper,  between 
which  and  theatrical  amufemenls,  there  appears  a  very 
great  oppofition,  is  fpirituality  and  heavenlinefs  of  mincl- 
AU  real  Chriilians  are,  and  account  themfelvxs  pilgrims 
and  flrangers  on  the  earth,  fet  their  affections  on  things 

*  It  is  not  Improper  here  to  confider  the  ancient  fonn  rf  baptilVn, 
?ncl  what  was  fuppoi'ed  by  the  fathers  to  be  implied  in  it,  Apoft.  Contt. 
lib.  7.  cap.  4t.  anroroca-cro^oti  ru  (Toe.ra.voL^  Sec.  *^  I  renounce  fatan  and 
*'  his  works,  and  his  pomps,  and  bis  feivice,  and  his  angels,  and  bis  in- 
"  ventions,  and  all  thmgs  that  belong  to  him,  or  are  iubjec^tto  him." 
Ambrol".  de  Initiatis.  IngrefTns  es  rcgenerationis  facrariuiti,  o:c. — 
*'  Ihon  haft  entered  into  the  holj/-  place  of  regeneration  ;  repeat  what 
**  you  were  there  afked,  and  recolledl  what  you  anfwered.  You  re- 
*'  nounced  the  devil,  and  his  works,  and  his  world,  and  his  luxury 
♦^  and  pleafures."  Hieion.  Com.  in  Matt.  xv.  26.  Kenuntio  tibi 
diabole,  kc.  "  I  renounce  thee,  fatan,  and  thy  pomp,  and  thy  vices, 
**  and  thy  world,  vvh.ch  Ileth  in  wirkednefs."  And  that  we  may 
know  what  they  had  particularly  in  view  by  th'*  pomps  of  the  world 
which  they  renounced,  they  are  fometimes  exprelsly  faid  to  be  the 
public  (hows,  'ibus  Salvian  de  Provident,  lib.  6,  page  197,  Outz 
elt  enim  in  baptifmr,.  Sec.  "  For  what  is  theflrfiprofefiion  of  a  Chviitian 
**  in  bnptifm.  ?  What,  but  that  thfy  protefs  to  renounce  the  de^"-!!, 
w  and  his  pomps,  his  Hiows,  and  his  works.  1  herefore  fhows  and 
**  pomps,  by  our  own  confellion,  are  the  works  of  the  devil.  How,  O 
**  ChriiHan,  wilt  thou  follow  the  public  Ihows  after  bapttfm,  vvhick 
**  thou  confefTsft  to  be  the  works  of  the  devil  ? 

'1  here  are  fome  who  pretend,  that  ChriOians  v:ere  only  kept  from 
the  Ihows,  becaufe  they  were  mixed  wl  h  idolatrous  rites;  but  it  is  to 
be  noted,  that  in  the  tnre  of  iSalvian,  idolatry  was  aboliOied,  and  the 
iiiows  were  no  longer  e>;hibited  in  ho.ior  of  id(  1  gods,  Cyril  of  Jc- 
ii!"a!em  alfo,  after  idolatry  was  deil  roved,  ccniinuet.  the  charge  againii 
the  Tuows. 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage.  49 

above,  and  have  tlieir  converfation  in  heaven.  VvHiate^^er 
tends  to  weaken  thefe  difpofitions,  they  will  carefully 
avoid,  as  contrary  to  their  duty  and  their  interefl.  Is  not 
this  the  cafe  w^ith  theatrical  amufements  ?  Are  they  not 
very  delicious  to  a  fenfual  and  carnal  mind.  Do  they  not 
excite,  gratify,  and  firengthen  thefe  afFeftions,  which  it  is 
mod  the  bufinefs  of  a  Chridian  to  reflrain  ?  Are  not  the 
indulgence  of  v^^orldly  pleafure,  and  heavenlinefs  of  mind, 
mutually  deflruclive  of  each  other  ?  This  is  fo  plain, 
that  anciently  thofe  who  gave  themfelves  up  to  a  life  of 
eminent  holinefs  and  piety,  ufed  to  retire  wholly  from 
the  commerce  of  the  v/orld  and  the  fociety  of  men. 
Though  this  was  wrong  in  itfelf,  and  foon  found  to 
be  very  liable  to  fuperftitious  abufe,  it  plainly  fliows  how 
much  they  err  upon,  the  oppoiite  fide,  who  being  called  to 
wean  their  aiFe61:ions  from  the  world,  do  yet  voluntarily 
and  unnecefTarily  indulge  themfelves  in  the  moll  delicious 
and  intoxicating  pleafures. 

What  is  ofFered  above,  I  hope,  will  fuffice  to  fliow  that 
the  llage,  confidered  fimply  as  an  entertainment,  cannot 
be  lawfully  ufed  by  a  Chrillian.  But  we  mud  now  pro- 
ceed in  the  fecond  place,  To  confider  the  modern  pretence, 
that  it  is  ufeful  and  inftruclive  ;  or,  to  fpeak  in  the  lan- 
guage of  one  of  its  defenders,  *'  A  warm  incentive  to  vlr- 
*'  tue,  and  powerful  prefervative  againfl:  vice."*  The 
fame  author  gives  us  this  account  of  tragedy  :  "  True  tra- 
*'  gedy  is  a  ferious  ledure  upon  our  duty,  ihorter  than  an 
*'  epic  poem,  and  longer  than  a  fable,  otherwife  differing 
"  from  both  only  in  the  method,  which  is  dialogue  inftead 
"  of  narration  ;  its  province  is  to  bring  us  in  love  with 
"  the  more  exalted  virtues,  and  to  create  a  deteflation  of 
"  the  blacker  and  (humanly  fpeaking)  more  enormous 
"  crimes."  On  comedy  he  fays,  "  an  infmuating  mirth 
"  lauglis  us  out  of  our  frailties  by  making  us  alhamed  of 
"  them.  Thus,  v/hen  they  are  well  intended,  tragedy 
"  and  comedy  work  to  one  purpofe,  the  one  maiiages  us 
"  as  children,  the  otlier  convinces  us  as  men." 

*  Remarks  on  Anderfon's  Pontions  concer.iing  the  unlav.'fLilncrs  of 
Ihge-play-. 

Vol.  III.  G 


50  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  thd 

In  order  to  treat  this  part  of  the  fubje6l  wilh  precifioily 
I  muft  beg  the  reader  to  recal  to  mind  the  account  former- 
ly given  of  what  is  implied  in  the  il:age,  even  under  the 
befl  pollible  regulation  ;  becaufe,  unlefs  this  be  allowed 
me,  I  confefs  the  argument  to  be  defe6\ive.  It  is  not  deni- 
ed, that  there  may  be,  and  are  to  be  found,  in  fome  drama- 
tic performances,  noble  and  excellent  fentiments.  Thefe 
indeed  are  much  fewer  than  is  commonly  fuppofed,  as 
might  be  iliewn  by  an  examination  of  fome  of  the  moft  ce- 
lebrated piays.  There  is  a  great  difference  between  the 
lliining  thoughts  that  are  applauded  in  the  world  by  men 
of  tafle,  and  the  folid  and  profitable  truths  of  religion* 
However,  it  is  allowed,  that  there  a.re  fomic  things  to  be 
found  in  plays,  againft  v/hich  no  jufl  objection  can  be 
made  ;  and  it  is  eafy  to  form  an  idea  of  them  flill  more 
pure  than  any  that  do  yet  exiil ;  but  the  queflion  is. 
Whether  it  is  poffible  now  to  iindj  or  reafonable  to  hope 
to  find,  fuch  a  number  of  pieces,  in  their  prevailing  ten- 
dency, agreeable  to  the  holinefs  and  purity  of  the  Chrif- 
tian  c!iara6ter,  as  are  neceffary  to  fupport  a  public  theatre  ? 
Till  this  is  accompliflied,  all  that  is  done  to  fupport  the 
theatre  in  the  mean  tim^e,  is  done  to  fupport  the  interefi:  of 
vice  and  wickednefs ;  whatever  it  m.ay  be  in  itfelf,  and 
fingiy  confidered.  And  if  fuch  an  entire  reformation  be 
im poffible,  a  partial  reformation,  or  mixing  a  few  good 
things  with  it,  is  not  only  ineffeQual,  but  hurtful.  It 
makes  a  bad  caufe  a  little  more  plaufible,  and  therefore  the 
temptation  fo  much  the  more  formidable. 

There  is  a  difcourfe  of  a  foreigner  of  fome  note,  in 
which  he  exerts  all  his  eloquence  in  commendation  of 
plays,  when  ufed  in  the  public  fchools,  for  the  imi prove- 
ment  of  youth  in  action  and  elocution,  under  the  direc- 
tion of  their  mafiers.  As  this  gentleman  was  a  clergy- 
man, his  authority  is  often  ufed  on  this  fubic(£l.  But  it 
ought  to  be  obferved,  that  as  he  was  a  young  man  when 
he  employed  his  eloquence  in  this  caufe,  fo,  v/hat  he  fays, 
llrongly  fupports  the  propriety  of  the  difi;in6tion  I  jiavc 
laid  down.  He  exprefsly  confines  the  argument  to  fiich 
plays  as  were  reprefented  by  youths  in  the  fchcol.'?,  and 
rejedls  with  great  abhorrence  the  public  flage,  and  fuch  as 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage.  51 

were  adled  by  mercenary  players.  Of  the  lad  fort  he  hath 
the  following  iirong  words.  "  At  hie  vereor  A.  ne  qui  fint 
*'  inter  vos  qui  ex  me  quserant  :  Quid  agis  adolefcens  ? 
"  Tune  comoedos,  Hiftriones,  mimos,  ex  eloquent! as  Ihi- 
"  diofis  facere  paras  ?  Egone  ?  Hiilriones  ?  Q^ios  ?  An 
"  viles  illos  qui  in  fcenam  prodeunt  mercede  condu61i  ? 
''  Qiii  quceilus  caufa  quamlibct  perfonam  induant  ?  Qui 
*'  palTim  per  urbes  vagantes  artem  fuam  venaieni  habent  ? 

"  Qui,  merito,  R.omanojure,  infamia  notantur  ? Ab- 

"  fit  a  me  abfit,  ut  in  hac  impietatis  fchola  teneros  adolef- 
"  centium  animos  eloquentia  imbui  velim.  Quanticun- 
"  que  earn  faclo,  tanti  tamen  non  eft.  Satius  eifet  balbu- 
'^  tire,  imo  fatius  mutum  efle,  quam  non  fme  fummo  ani- 
''-  mi  periculo  cloquentiam  difcere*."  Which  pafTagc 
may  be  tranflated  thus  ;  *■'  But  here  I  am  afraid  fome  of 
*'  you  will  be  ready  to  challenge  me,  and  to  fay,  what  is 
''  this  you  aim  at  young  man  ?  Do  you  intend  to  make  ?Ji 
'"•  who  iludy  eloquence  comedians,  players,  buffoon^  ? 
"  Do  I  indeed  ?  What  fort  of  players  ?  Thofe  contempt!-.^ 
*'  ble  v/retches,  who  are  hired  to  come  upon  the  itage, 
*'  and  who  for  gain  will  perfoliate  any  charafter  whatever  ? 
''  Who  go  2-bout  through  different  cities  mrJcing  merchan- 
''  dize  of  their  art  ?  Wlio  are  juftly  marked  with  infamy 
*'  in  the  Roman  law  ? — ; — Far,  far  be  it  from  me  to 
"  propofe,  that  the  tender  minds  of  youth  ihould  be 
"  taught  eloquence  in  this  fchcol  of  impiety.  However 
"  much  I  value  it,  I  value  it  not  at  this  rate.  Better  it 
"  v/ere  they  fliould  llanimer  in  fpeech,  nay,  better  that 
''  they  were  dumb  and  incapable  of  fpeech,  than  that 
''  they  fnould  learn  the  art  of  eloquence,  by  putting  theu* 
"  fouls  in  the  moil:  eminent  danger."  Now,  v/hether 
this  author's  fcheme  v/as  right  or  not,  I  have  no  ocCvaf.on 
at  prefent  to  debate  Vv'ith  him  as  an  adverfary,  for  he  re- 
jects with  abhorrence  the  imputation  of  favoring  the 
'caufe  againll  which  I  plead. 

Wlien  a  public  theatre  is  defended  as  a  means  of  inRruc- 
tion,  I  cannot  help  thinking  it  is  of  importance  to  obferve, 
that  it  is  a  method  altogether  uncommanded  and  unautho- 
rized in  the  v/ord  of  God.     This  Vvill  probably  appear  a 
*   Werenfels  Oratio  dc  C^iiiCcdiis. 


52  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

very  weak  argument  to  many,  but  it  will  not  appear  fo  to 
tbofe  who  have  a  firm  belief  of,  and  a  juft  efteem  for  that, 
book  of  life.  Such  will  not  expedl,  that  any  method  will 
prove  efFeQually  to  make  men  "  wife  unto  falvation,'* 
without  the  blefiing  of  God,  and  they  will  hardly  be  indu- 
ced to  look  for  this  bleffing  upon  the  flage.  And  let  it  be 
remembered,  that  it  is  now  pleaded  for  in  a  higher  light, 
and  on  a  m.ore  important  account,  than  merely  as  an 
amufement,  viz.  as  proper  to  fupport  the  intereil  of  reli- 
gion ;  it  fliould  therefore  have  a  pofitive  warrant  before  it 
be  employed  in  this  caufe,  left  it  fhould  meet  with  the 
fame  reception  that  all  other  human  devices  will  meet 
with,  "  Who  hath  required  thefe  things  at  your  hands  ?" 

And  that  none  m.ay  ufe  a  delufory  fort  of  reafoning,  and 
iliift  from  one  pretence  to  another,  faying,  it  becomes  a 
lawful  amufement  by  its  tendency  to  inftruft,  and  an  ef- 
ledlual  iniLru<51ion  by  its  power  to  pleafe  at  the  fame  time  ; 
it  muft  be  obferved,  that  a  frnful  amufement  is  not  to  be 
indulged  on  any  pretence  whatfoever;  for  we  muft  not  "do 
"  evil,  that  good  may  come."  Nay,  call  it  only  a  danger- 
ous amufement,  even  in  that  cafe,  no  pretence  of  pofiible 
or  probable  inftruction  (though  fuch  a  thing  vv^ere  not  con- 
trary to  the  fuppofition)  is  fuiiicient  to  warrant  it.  No- 
thing lefs  than  its  being  necelTary,  could  author! fe  the 
praQice,  and  that  I  hope  none  will  be  fo  hardy  as  to  af- 
firm. 

It  can  never  be  aflirmed  to  be  necelTary,  without  a  blaf- 
phemous  impea.chment  of  the  divine  wiidom.  If  the  holy 
Icriptures,  and  the  methods  there  authorifed  and  appoint- 
ed, are  full  and  fufHcient  for  our  fpiritual  improvement, 
all  others  muft  be  wholly  unneceffary.  And  if  they  are 
the  moft  powerful  and  the  moft  eiteclual  means,  no  others 
muft  be  fuffered  to  come  into  rivalfhip  and  competition 
with  them  ;  on  the  contrary,  they  muft  be  condemned  as 
wrong,  or  laid  afide  as  comparatively  v/eak.  The  truth 
is,  the  ftage  can  never  be  defended  on  a  more  untenable 
footing,  than  vv  hen  it  is  reprefented  as  having  a  moral  or 
virtuous,  that  is  to  fay,  a  pious  or  religious  tendency. 
What  Chriftian  can  hear  fuch  a  plea  with  patience  ?  Is 
the  "  law  of  the  Lord  perfeft,  converting  the  foul  I     Is  it 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage,  53 

"  able  to  make  the  man  of  God  perfedl,  thoroughly  furnifhed 
*'  to  every  good  work  ?"  What  then  are  its  defeats  which 
muil  be  fupplied  by  the  theatre  ?  Have  the  faints  of  God, 
for  fo  many  ages,  been  carried  fafely  through  all  the  dark 
and  difficult  fteps  of  their  earthly  pilgrimage,  with  his 
law  as  a  "  light  to  their  feet,  and  a  lamp  to  their  path," 
and  yet  is  it  now  neceffary,  that  they  fhould  have  addi- 
tional illumination  from  a  well  regulated  ftage  ?  Have 
there  been  for  fo  long  a  time  pallors  employed,  bearing  a 
divine  commiilion  ?  ordinances  adminiilered  according 
to  divine  infliitation  ?  Have  thefe  been  hitherto  eilbt^u- 
al  for  ''  perfecting  the  faints,  for  the  work  oftheminillry, 
"  and  for  edifying  the  body  of  Chrift  ? "  And  fliall  we  not 
count  them  among  the  fcofTcrs  that  wxre  to  come  in  the 
laft  days,  who  pretend  to  open  a  new  commiffion  for  the 
players  to  aHift  ?  If  any  ihall  fay,  there  needs  no  di- 
vine iniiitution,  all  men  are  called  to  inflruCI  one  ano- 
ther, ''  the  lips  of  the  righteous  Ihould  feed  many,'* 
and  this  way  of  the  drama  is  but  a  mode  of  the  inilruc- 
tion  we  all  owe  to  one  another.  I  anfwer,  it  is  as  a 
mode  I  attack  it.  This  very  mode  has  been  fhewn  to  be 
dangerous,  nay  fmful,  as  an  amufement ;  who  then  can 
ihow  its  neceifity,  in  the  fame  mode,  for  inilrudlion  or 
improvement  ? 

If  the  ftage  be  a  proper  method  of  promoting  the  in- 
terefts  of  religion,  then  is  Satan's  kingdom  divided 
againft  itfelf,  which  he  is  more  cunning  than  to  fulFer 
it  to  be.  For  whatever  debate  there  be,  whether  good 
men  may  attend  the  theatre,  there  can  be  no  queftion 
at  all,  that  no  openly  vicious  man,  is  an  enemy  to  it, 
and  that  the  far  greateft  part  of  them  do  paffionately 
love  it.  I  fay  no  openly  vicious  man;  for  doubtlefs 
there  may  be  fome  hypocrites  wearing  the  habit  of  the 
Ghriilian  pilgrim,  who  are  the  very  worll  of  men,  and 
yet  may  Ihew  abundance  of  zeal  againft  the  ftage.  But 
nothing  is  more  certain  than,  that  taking  the  world  ac- 
cording  to  its  appearance,  it  is  the  worft  part  of  it  that 
fliow's  moft  paflion  for  this  entertainment,  and  the  beft 
that  avoids  and  fears  it,  than  which  there  can  hardly 
be  a  worfe  fign  of  it,  as  a  means  of  doing  good.     Who- 


j4  -^  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

ever  believes  the  follov/ing  words  of  our  blefled  Re- 
deemer, will  never  be  periuaded  that  poets  and  adlors 
for  the  flage  have  received  any  commilTion  to  fpeak  in 
his  name.  "  My  fheep  hear  my  voice,  and  I  know 
*' them,  and  they  follow  me,  JohnNX.  27. — A  llranger 
*'  will  they  not  follow,  but  will  flee  from  him,  for  they 
*'  know  not  the  voice  of  ilrangers,  John  x.    5.^ 

This  leads  us  to  obferve,  that  the  flage  is  not  only  an 
improper  method  of  inftrudion,  but  that  all,  or  the  far 
greatell  number  of  pieces  there  reprefented,  muft  have, 
upon  the  whole,  a  pernicious  tendency.  This  is  evi- 
dent, becaufe  they  muft  be  to  the  tafte  and  relilh  of  the 
bulk  of  thofe  v/ho  attend  it.  The  difficulty  of  getting 
good  authors  for  the  theatre,  1  fliall  not  infift  upon,  but 
whatever  the  authors  are  able  or  v/illing  to  do,  it  is  cer- 
tain, that  their  produdions  in  fa6l  can  rife  no  higher  in 
point  of  purity,  than  the  audience  ihall  be  willing  to 
receive.  Their  attendance  is  not  conftrained,  but  vo- 
luntary ;  nay,  they  pay  dearly  for  their  entertainment ; 
and  therefore  they  muft,  and  v/ill  have  it  to  their  tafte. 
This  is  a  part  of  the  fubje'cl  that  merits  the  particular 
attention  of  all  who  are  inclined  to  judge  impartially, 
and  it  proves,  in  the  ftrongeft  manner,  the  abfurdity  of 
forming  chimerical  fuppofilions  of  a  itage  fo  regulated,  as, 

*  It  is  to  be  obferved  liere,  to  prevent  miflakes,  that  the  argument  is 
founded  on  the  general  and  prevailing  inclination  of  the  greatefl:  part 
oF  each  characler,  and  not  upon  particuhir  inftances,  in  many  of  which, 
ic  is  confefTed,  it  will  not  hold.  For,  as  it  is  difficult  to  know  the  real 
character  of  fome  perfons,  in  whom  there  are  fomc  marks  andfignsof 
true  religion,  and  at  the  fame  time,  fome  fymptoms  of  unlbundnefs, 
fo  it  is  ftill  more  difficult  to  determine  the  quality  of  fjngle  actions. 
Therefore,  it  is  little  or  no  argument  that  any  practice  is  fife  or  good, 
becaufe  one  good  man,  or  one  fuppofedto  be  good,  has  been  known  to 
do  it  ;  or  on  the  contrary,  ill,  becaufe  one  bad  man  has  bceji  knov/n 
to  do  it.  But  as,  when  we  retire  further  from  the  limit  that  divides 
them,  the  charadlers  are  more  clearly  and  fenfibly  diltinguiflied,  fo, 
vhatever  practice  is  paffionately  defired  by  wicked  men  in  general, 
smd  lliur.ned  by  the  good,  certainly  is  of  bad  tendency.  If  it  were 
otherwife,  as  faid  above,  "  Satan's  kingdom  v/ould  be  divided  againft 
"  itfelf,"  and  the  God  "  who  keepeth  covenant  and  truth  for  ever," 
would  fail  in  his  promife,  of  "giving"  his  people  "  ccunfel,"  and 
*^  teaching  them  the  way  ia  which  they  ought  to  Vvalk." 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage.  55 

inftead  of  being  hurtful,  to  promote  the  intereft,  of  piety 
and  virtue. 

Here  let  fome  truths  be  called  to  mind  which  are  fre- 
quently mentioned  in  the  holy  Scriptures,  but  feldom 
recoiledted,  and  their  confequences  very  little  attended 
to.  There  is  a  di{lin6lion  often  flated,  both  in  the  old 
and  nev/  Teftament,  between  the  children  of  God  and 
the  men  of  the  v/orld.  Thefe  are  mixed  together  in  the 
prefent  ftate,  and  cannot,  in  many  cafes,  be  certainly 
diftinguiflied  by  their  outward  appearance  ;  yet  is  there 
at  bottom,  not  only  a  rea,l  difiindlion  of  chara6ler,  but  a 
perfe6l  oppoution  between  them,  as  to  the  commanding 
principle  of  all  their  adlions.  And  as  there  is  an  oppo- 
fition  of  charadler  between  them,  fo  there  mufl:  be  an 
oppofition  of  intereds  and  views.  Our  blelTed  Redeem- 
er, when  he  came  into  the  world,  was  '*  defpifed  and 
"  i^ejedled  of  men ;"  and  he  every  wlierc  tells  his  dif- 
ciples,  that  they  muil  expe6l  no  better  treatment. 
Matt.  v.  II,  12.  '*  BlefTed  are  ye  when  men  fliall  revile 
"  you,  and  perfecute  you,  and  fliall  fay  all  manner  of 
"  evil  againfl  you  falfely,  for  my  fake.  Rejoice  and  be 
"  exceeding  glad  :  for  great  is  your  reward  in  heaven; 
"  for  fo  perfecuted  they  the  prophets  that  were  before 
*' you."  And  on  the  other  hand,  Luke  vi.  26.  "Wo 
"  unto  you  when  all  men  fliall  fpeak  v/ell  of  you,  for  ^o 
*'  did  their  fathers  to  the  falfe  prophets."  Again,  John 
XV.  19.  "  If  yc  were  of  the  world,  the  world  would  love 
"  his  own  ;  but  becaufe  ye  are  not  of  the  world,  but  I 
**  have  chofen  you  out  of  the  world,  therefore  the  \70rld 
"  hateth  you."  His  apoflles  fpeak  always  in  the  fame 
language  :  thus  the  apoftle  Paul,  Rom.  xii.  2.  "  And 
"  be  not  conformed  to  this  world."  Nay,  he  lays  it  down 
as  an  univerfal  pofition,  2  Tim.  iii.  12.  "  Yea,  and  all 
"  that  will  live  godly  in  Chrill  Jefus  fhall  fufFer  perfe* 
^'  cution."  Nov/  I  afl^:,  V/hether  thofe  who  Jiave  a 
flrong  and  rooted  averficn  to  true  hoHnefs,  which  is  not 
•the  character  of  the  fmcere  Chriftian,  will  voluntarily 
croud  to  the  theatre,  to  hear  and  fee  fuch  perform.ances 
as  breathe  nothing  but  what  is  agreeable  to  the  pure 
and  uncorrupted  word  of  God  ?   Will  thofc  v/ho  revile. 


56  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

injure,  and  perfecute  the  faints  themfelves,  delight  in  the 
ftage,  if  honor  is  there  put  upon  true  religion,  a.nd  pleafed 
with  that  charadter  in  the  reprefentation  v/hich  they  hate 
in  the  original  ?  This  would  be  to  expe6l  impofTibilities. 
And  therefore,  while  the  great  majority  of  thofe  who  at- 
tend the  ftage  are  unholy,  it  is  certain,  that  the  plays 
which  they  behold  with  pleafure,  cannot,  upon  the  whole, 
but  have  a  criminal  tendency. 

If  any  al ledge,  that  the  poet's  art  may  be  a  means  to 
make  religion  amiable  to  them,  I  anfwer,  that  he  cannot 
make  it  amiable,  but  by  adulteration,  by  mixing  it  with 
fomething  agreeable  to  their  own  talle  ;  and  then  it  is  not 
religion  that  they  admire,  but  the  erroneous,  debafed,  and 
falfe  refemblance  of  it.  Or  even  fuppofnig,  that,  in  a 
fmgle  inftance  or  two,  nothing  in  fubllance  Ihculd  be  fet 
before  them  but  true  religion,  and  this  dreffed  to  the  very 
higheft  advantage  by  the  poet's  genius  and  a6lor's&ill,  there 
would  be  little  gained ;  becaufe  thefe  human  arts  only 
would  be  the  obje6l  of  their  admiration,  and  they  would 
always  prefer,  and  fpeedily  procure,  a  difplay  of  the  fame 
arts,  upon  a  fubje61:  more  agreeable  to  their  corrupt  minds. 
This  indeed,  we  are  not  left  to  gather  by  way  of  infer- 
ence and  dedu(5tion  from  other  truths,  but  are  exprefsly 
taught  it  in  the  word  of  God.  For  "  the  natural  man 
*'  receiveth  not  the  things  of  the  Spirit  of  God  :  for  they 
"  are  foolilhnefs  unto  him,  neither  can  we  know  them, 
*'  becaufe  they  are  fpiritually  difcerned."  i  Cor.  ii.  14. 
Experience  is  a  flrong  proof  of  this.  For  if  any  man 
will  take  the  pains  of  making  up  a  fyftem  of  the  morality 
of  the  ftage,  1  do  not  mean  the  horrid  profanity,  and  fcan- 
daloas  obfcenity,  that  is  to  be  found  in  the  worft,  but  of 
that  v/hich  is  called  virtue  in  the  beft  of  the  pieces  v^rote 
for  the  theatre,  he  v/ill  find  it  exceeding  different  from 
Chriftian  morals  ;  and,  that  an  adherence  to  it  would  be, 
in  mod  inflances,  a  v/ilful  departure  from  the  rules  of  a 
holy  life. 

Flowever  plainly  this  is  founded  upon  the  word  of  God, 
and  found  reafon,  there  are  fome  very  unwilling  to  think, 
that  ever  their  duty  as  Chriilians  flioukl  conftrain  them  to 
be  at  odds  with  the  delicacies  of  life,  or  the  polite  and  fa- 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stnge,  57. 

fhionable  pleafures  of  the  age.  And,  as  the  mind  of  man 
is  very  ingenious  in  the  defence  of  that  pollution  which  it 
loves,  they  fometimes  bring  in  criticifm  to  their  aid. 
They  alledge,  that  by  the  "  world  "  is  underftood,  general- 
ly through  the  New  Teflament,  thofe  who  were  heathens 
by  profeffion ;  and  that  the  fame  oppofition  to  true  reli- 
gion, in  judgment  and  heart,  is  not  to  be  afcribed  to  thofe 
who  are  members  of  the  vifible  church.  It  is  anfwered, 
the  word  did  indeed  fignify  as  they  fay,  for  this  plain  rea- 
fon,  that  in  the  early  days  of  Chriilianiiy,  v/hen  it  was 
under  perfecution,  few  or  none  would  make  profeffion  of 
it,  unlefs  they  did  really  believe  it.  But  is  not  the  mean- 
ing IHU  the  fame  ?  Can  we  fuppofe,  that  the  hatred  of 
the  then  world,  was  at  the  name  of  religion  only,  and  not 
at  the  fubilance  ?  Was  the  devil  ''  the  prince  of  this 
"  world,"  then  ?  and  has  he  not  now  equal  dominion 
over,  and  is  he  not  equally  ferved  by,  thofe  who  are  pro- 
fane in  their  lives,  though  they  were  once  baptifed  ?  Was 
he  the  fpirit  that  "  then  worked,"  and  is  he  not  the  fpirit 
that  "  now  works,"  in  the  children  of  difobedience  I 
The  truth  therefore  remains  Hill  the  fame,  thofe  who  are 
in  a  natural  and  unregenerate  flate,  who  hate  true  religion 
in  jtheir  hearts,  muft  have  fomething  very  different  before 
they  can.be  pleafed  with  feeing  it  on  the  liage.^ 

*  There  is  an  excellent  paffage  to  this  purpofe  in  an  effay  againft 
plays,  to  be  found  in  one  of  the  volumes  publiihed  about  a  hundred 
years  ago,  by  the  gentlemen  of  the  Port-Royal  in  France,  a  Ibciety  of 
JanfeniRs,  of  great  parts  and  eminent  piety.  This  efTay  in  particular, 
is  by  fome  faid  to  have  been  written  by  the  prince  of  Contl.  Section 
1 5th  of  that  effay,  he  fays,  "  It  is  fo  true  that  plays  are  almort  always 
"  a  rcprefcntation  of  vicious  paffions,  that  the  moft  part  of  Ghriftiau 
"  virtues  are  incapable  of  appearing  upon  the  ilage.  Silence,  patience, 
"  moderation,  wifdom,  poverty,  repentance,  are  no  virtues,  the  repie- 
"  fentation  of  which  can  divert  the  fpeftators  ;  and  above  a!l,  we  ne- 
■*'  ver  hear  humUit)^  fpoken  of,  and  the  bearing  of  h^juries.  It  would 
"  be  flrange  to  fee  a  modeft  and  filent  religious  perfon  reprefented. 
*^  There  mufl;  be  fomething  great  raid  renowned  according  to  men,  or  at 
*'  leafi  lomething  lively  and  animated,  which  is  not  met  wiLhrd  in  ChvilUan 
"  graJ'./  and  wifdom;  and  therefore  thoie  who  have  been  deiirous 
"  to  introduce  holy  men  and  women  upon  the  Itage,  have  been  forced 
"  to  make  them  appear  proud,  and  to  make  thv^rn  utte.  dJIcourfes  more 

Vol.  III.  II 


^i  '    A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

That  this  argument  may  have  its  proper  force,  we 
ought  to  confider,  how  great  a  proportion  of  perfons  under 
the  dominion  of  vice  and  vvickednefs  there  mufl  always 
bs  among  thofe  who  attend  the  theatre.  The  far  greatell 
number  of  the  world  in  general  are  ungodly.  This  is  a 
facl  which  could  hardly  be  denied,  even  though  the  fol- 
lowing paiTage  had  not  ftood  in  the  oracles  of  truth. 
"  Enter  ye  in  at  the  ftrait  gate  ;  for  wide  is  the  gate,  and 
••'  broad  is  the  way  that  leadeth  to  deftru£lion,  and  many 
''  there  be  which  go  in  thereat :  Becaufe  ftrait  is  the  gate, 
♦'  and  narrow  is  the  way  that  leadeth  unto  life,  and  few 
"  there  be  that  find  it."  Matt.  vii.  13,  14.  And  as  none 
can  attend  the  ftage,  but  thofe  in  higher  life,  and  more  af- 
fluent circumflances  than  the  bulk  of  mankind,  there  is 
Hill  a  greater  proportion  of  them  who  are  enemies  to  pure 
and  undefiled  religion.  Thus,  fays  our  Saviour  to  his 
difciplcs,  '^  Verily  I  fay  unto  you,  that  a  rich  man  fhall 
"  hardly  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  And  again 
"  I  fay  unto  you,  it  is  eafier  for  a  camel  to  go  through  the 
••'  eye  of  a  needle,  than  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into 
"  the  kingdom  of  God."  Matt.  xix.  23,  24.  To  the 
fame  purpofe  the  apoftle  Paul  fays,  "  Ye  fee  your  calling, 
*'  brethren,  how  that  not  many  wife  men  after  the  flefh, 
*'  not  many  mighty,  not  many  noble  are  called."  i  Cor. 
\t  26.  This  does  not  at  all  fuppofe,  that  thofe  in  high  life 
are  originally  more  corrupt  in  their  nature  than  others, 
but  it  arifes  from  their  being  expofed  to  much  greater 
and  ftronger  temptations.  Now,  if  from  the  fmall  num- 
ber of  real  Chrillians  in  the  upper  ranks  of  life,  we  again 
fubtrafl  fuch  as  count  the  ftage  unlawful  or  dangerous, 
or  have  no  inclination  to  it,  there  will  very  few  remain  of 
thofe  vv^ho  are  *'  the  fait  of  the  earth,"  to  feafon  the  unhal- 
lowed alfembly.  What  fort  of  produclions  then  mufl  they 
be,  which  fliall  have  the  approbation  of  fuch  judges  ?  Hov/ 
much  more  proper  to  j^ollute  than  ro  reform,  to  poifon  than 
to  cure  .''  If  fuch  in  faCt  the  gi*eat  bulk  of  plays  have  always 

**  proper  for  the  ancient  Roman  heroes,  than  for  flints  and  martyrs. 
''  Their  tievotijn  upon  the  ftage  ought  alio  to  be  always  a  little  extra- 
*'  CTciinary." 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage.  59 

hitherto  been,  from  what  has  been  faid,  it  ought  not  to  be 
wondered  at,  becaufe  it  cannot  be  otherwife. 

It  is  very  pofTible,  that  Ibme  may  be  ail  this  while 
holding  the  argument  very  cheap,  and  faying  with  lord 
Shaftefbury,  "  The  true  genius  is  of  a  nobler  nature 
"  than  fervilely  to  fubmit  to  the  corrupt  or  vitiated  taile 
"  of  any  age  or  place  ; — he  works  not  for  gain,  but  de- 
"  fpifes  it ; — he  knows,  and  will  not  fwerve  from  tliC 
"  truth  of  art ;  he  will  produce  v\^hat  is  noble  and  excel- 
*'  lent  in  its  kind ; — he  will  refine  the  public  ear,  and 
''  teach  them  to  admtre  in  the  right  place.''  Thefc, 
though  I  do  not  cite  any  particular  paiTage,  are  all  of 
them  fentiments,  and  mod  of  them  expreffions,  of  that 
author  [0  much  admired  among  modern  philofophers. — 
But  the  objection  is  eafily  folved.  The  obfervatlon  is 
allowed  to  be  juft,  and  to  hold  withrefpecl  to  the  poetic, 
oratorial,  or  any  human  art,  becaufe  we  know  of  no 
higher  ftandard  in  any  of  thefe.  than  what  human  nature 
in  its  prefent  Hate,  will  miofl  admire,  when  it  is  exhibited 
to  view.  Accordingly,  the  great  poet  and  the  great  ora- 
tor, though,  through  the  prevalence  of  a  bad  tafte,  they 
may  find  it  difficult  at  firll  to  procure  attention,  yet  they 
will  procure  it  at  lail  :  and  when  they  are  heard,  they 
carry  the  prize  from  all  inferior  pretenders  ;  and  indeed, 
their  doing  fo  is  the  very  touchfione  and  trial  of  their  art 
itfelf.  In  this  cafe  there  lies  no  appeal  from  the  judg- 
ment of  the  public  or  the  multitude  (as  David  Kume  has 
faid  for  once  according  to  truth)  to  the  judgment  of  a 
wifer  few. 

But  there  cannot  be  any  thing  more  abfurd  than  to 
fuppofe,  that  the  fame  thing  will  hold  in  morals  and  re- 
ligion. The  dramatic  poets  in  Athens,  where  the  ilage 
was  firft  eilabliihed,  improved  upon  one  another,  and 
refined  their  own  talie,  and  that  of  their  audience,  as  to 
the  elegance  of  their  compofitions.  Nay,they  foon  broughl: 
tragedy,  as  a  great  critic*  obferves,  to  as  great  perfe6lioii 
as  the  nature  of  the  thino^feems  to  admit  of.  But  whocr 
yer  Vv^ill  from  this  infer,  that  they  improved  in  their  mp- 


i6o  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

rals  in  the  fame  proportion,  or  by  that  means,  will  fall 
into  a  very  grofs  miftake.  This  indeed  feems  to  be  the 
grCvat  error  of  modern  infidels,  to  fuppofe  that  there  is  no 
mere  in  morals  than  a  certain  tade  and  fenfe  of  beauty 
and  elegance.  Natural  talents  in  the  human  mind  are 
quite  diflindl  from  moral  difpofitions,  and  the  excellence 
of  the  one  is  no  evidence  at  all  of  the  prevalence  of  the 
other.  On  the  contrar}%  the  firfc  are  many  times  found 
in  the  higheft  perfedlion,  where  there  is  a  total  ablence 
of  the  laft.  And  therefore,  that  true  genius  is  the  obje^l 
of  univerfal  approbation,  hinders  not  but  that  true  gcod- 
nefs  is  the  objeft  of  general  averfion.  The  Scripture  af- 
fures  us,  that  all  men  are  by  nature  under  the  power  of 
lin,  "  that  every  imagination  of  the  thoughts  of  man  is 
"  only  evil  from  his  youth,  and  that  continually,"  Gen. 
vi.  5.  "  That  the  carnal  mind  is  enmity  againft  God, 
"  and,"  till  it  be  renewed  by  divine  grace,  "  is  not  fub- 
"  jc6l  to  the  law  of  God,  neither  indeed  can  be."  Rom. 
viii.   7. 

Nov/  it  is  utterly  impclTible  and  felf  contradi6lory, 
that  men  ihould  approve  and  delight  in  that  which  is 
contrary  to  the  habitua.1  prevailing  temper  of  their  hearts ; 
and  to  bring  about  a  change  in  them  is  not  in  the  power 
of  any  human  art,  but  with  the  concurrence  of  the  Spirit 
and  grace  of  God.  In  this  he  has  given  no  authority  to 
the  players  to  aft  under  him,  nay,  he  has  exprefsly  told 
us,  that  he  will  not  ordinarily,  in  any  way  whatever, 
malce  ufe  of  the  perfeftion  of  human  art,  but  of  the  plain- 
eft  and  Vv-eakefl  outward  means.  Thus  the  apoflie  Paul 
tells  us  his  Mafler  fent  him,  "to  preach  the  gofpel,  not 
"  Vv'ith  wifdom  of  v/ords,  left  the  crofs  of  Chrifl;  fnould  be 
*'  made  of  none  eifeft."  i  Cor.  i.  17.  And,  "  after  that 
"  in  the  wildorn  of  God,  the  Vv-orld  by  wifdom  knew  not 
''  God,  it  pleafed  God  by  the  foolifhnels  of  preaching  to 
''  fave  them  that  believe."  iCor.  i.  21.  He  alfo  profelTes 
that  hie  practice  had  abvFiys  been  conformed  to  this  rule, 
'*  And  I  brethren,  v/hen  I  came  to  you,  came  not  with 
"  excellency  of  fpeech  or  of  wifdom,  declaring  unto  you 
"  the  teftimony  of  God."  i  Cor.  ii.  i.  "  And  my  fpeech 
j;  and  my  preaching  was  not  with  enticing    words  of 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage,  6i 

"  man's  wifdom,  but  in  demonftration  of  the  opirit  and 
"  of  power.  That  your  faith  Ihould  not  (land  in  the  wif- 
"  dom  of  men,   but  in  the  power  of  God*."     i    Cor. 

ii-  4.  5. 

It  may  be  ncceiTary  here  to  obviate  an  objeftion,  that 

in  the  holy  Scriptures  themfelves  we  find  feveral  pafTages 
which  feem  to  fignify  that  true  religion,  though  it  is  not 
the  choice  of  all  men,  is  yet  the  objedl  of  univerfal  ap- 
probation. Thus  we  are  told,  that  "  the  righteous  fliall 
"  be  in  evcrlafting  remembrance,  but  the  memory  of  the 
**  wicked  fliall  rot."  Nay,  we  are  exhorted  by  the  apof- 
tlc  Paul  to  the  pra6lice  of  our  duty  in  fuch  terms  as  thefe, 
*'  Whatfoever  things  are  true,  Vv^hatfoever  things  are 
*'  lovely,  whatfoever  things  are  of  good  report,  if  there 
"  be  any  virtue,  if  there  be  any  praife,  think  on  tliefe 
*'  things."  Eut  thefe  muil;  furely  be  explained  in  fuch 
a  manner,  as  to  be  confiiient  with  the  clear  and  flrong 
'pairages  mentioned  above  ;  which  it  is  not  difficult  to  do. 
The  matter  of  many  good  a6lions,  particularly  focial  vir- 
tCies,  the  duties  of  the  fcconcl  table  of  the  law,  wicked 
Vnen  do  often  approve,  nay,  they  may  not  only  fee  fome 
beauty,  but  feel  fome  pleafure  in  them,  from  natural, 
though  unfandified    afFedions   leading    to   them.     But 

*  Perhaps  fome  will  alk  here,  Is  then  human  art,  and  are  natural 
talents,  which  are  the  gifts  of  God,  wholly  excluded  from  his  fervice  ? 
I  anfwer,  they  are  not.  And  yet  the  inflances  of  their  being  emi- 
nently ufeful  are  exceeding  rare.  Such  is  the  imperfedlion  of  the 
human  mind,  that  it  can  hardly  at  the  fame  time,  give  greiit  atten- 
tion and  application  to  two  diflincl  fubjefts  ;  and  therefore,  when 
men  give  that  intenfe  application  to  human  art,  which  is  neccffary  to 
bring  it  to  its  perfection,  they  are  apt  to  ovarlook  the  power  and 
grace  of  God,  without  which  all  art  is  vain  and  incSeftuRl.  Agree- 
ably to  this,  when  men  of  emiuent  talents  have  been  of  fervice  in  re- 
ligion, it  has  been  commonly  by  the  exercife  of  felf-denial,  by  mak- 
ing a  very  fparirig  and  moderate  uie  of  them,  and  fhowing  themfelves 
fo  deeply  penetrated  with  a  \€x\'^t  of  the  important  truths  of  the  ever- 
laPting  gofpel,  as  to  defpife  the  beiiutics  and  embellilhments  of  humad 
ikill,  too  great  an  attention  to  which  is  evidently  inconiirieiit  with  the 
other.  Well,  fay  refined  obfervers,  this  is  the  very  perfection  of  art 
to  ufe  it  with  great  referve,  and  to  keep  it  out  of  view  as  much  as 
poffible.  And  it  is  indeed  the  perfection  of  art  to  have  the  appear- 
ance of  this,  but  it  is  peculiar  to  a  renewed  heart  to  have  it  in  reality. 


$2  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

truly  good  aSlions,  inilances  of  holy  obedience  to  God, 
in  their  manner,  and  in  the  principles  from  which  they 
ought  to  flow,  they  neither  can  approve  nor  perform. 

Nothing  can  be  done  agreeable  to  the  will  of  God, 
but  what  hath  the  following  properties.  It  mufl  be  done 
from  a  fenfe,  not  only  of  the  unalterable  obligation, 
but  the  perfed  excellence  of  the  law  of  God,  Rom.  vii.  12. ; 
renouncing  all  pretence  of  merit  in  the  a6tor.  Gal.  ii.  20. 
Phil.  ill.  8. ;  depending  for  affiftance  entirely  on  divine 
flrength,  John  xv.  5.  ;  and  with  a  fmgle  eye  to  the  di- 
vine glory,  I  Cor.  x.  31.  i  Pet.  iv.  11.  It  is  not  the 
matter  of  an  a£lion  tt^at  renders  it  truly  hol}^,  but  the 
prevalence  of  thefe  principles  in  the  herat  of  the  per- 
former. And  they  are  fo  far  from  being  generally  ap^ 
proved,  that  they  are  hated  and  defpifed,  and  the  very 
profeiTion  of  mod  of  them  at  leaft,  ridiculed  by  every 
worldly  man.  The  truth  in,  it  is  not  eafy  to  difcover 
thefe  principles  otherwife  than  by  narration.  They  lie 
deep  in  the  heart,  they  do  not  feek  to  difcover  themfelves, 
and  the  fliewing  them  on  the  fiage  would  be  a  fort  of 
contradi61ion  to  their  nature.  I  believe  it  would  exceed 
the  art  of  moil:  poets  or  a6lors,  to  exhibit  by  outward 
figns,  true  felf-denial,  without  joining  to  it  fuch  often- 
tation,  as  would  deftroy  its  efi'e<?l:.  Or  if  it  could  be 
done,  it  would  be  fo  far  from  being  delightful  to  thofe 
who  *'  through  the  pride  of  their  heart  will  not  feek  after 
*^  God,''  that  it  v/ould  fill  them  with  difgufl:  or  difdain. 
So  that  all  friends  of  the  fla^e  ought  to  join  with  David 
Hume,  who  hath  excluded  felf-denial,  humility,  and  mor- 
tification, from  the  number  of  the  virtues,  and  ranked 
them  among  the  vices. 

From  this  it  appears,  that  VvOrldly  men  will  bear  a 
form  of  godlincfs,  but  the  fplrlt  and  power  of  it  they 
cannot  endure.  When  therefore,  the  Scriptures  re- 
prefent  religion,  or  any  part  of  it,  as  amiable  in  the 
eyes  of  mankind  in  general,  it  is  only  giving  one  view 
of  its  excellence  in  itfelf  or  in  its  matter  :  but  this  can 
never  be  intended  to  make  the  judgment  of  bad  men  its 
ftandard  or  meafure.  And  when  the  approbation  of  men 
is  propofed  as  an  argument  to  duty,  it  cannot  be  con- 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage.  61; 

fidered  in  any  other  light,  than  as  an  afliftant  fubordi- 
nate  motive  to  preferve  us  from  its  violation ;  for  the 
Scriptures  will  never  warrant  us  to  aim  at  the  praife  of 
men,  as  the  reward  of  our  compliance. 

If  there  be  any  more  than  what  is  faid  above  in  the 
teflimony  which  wicked  men  give  in  favor  of  religion, 
it  is  but  the  voice  of  natural  confcience,  that  is,  the  voice 
of  God  in  them,  and  not  their  own ;  and  as  it  is  ex- 
torted from  them  againfi;  their  will,  they  do  all  in  their 
power  to  deilroy  the  force  of  the  evidence.  This  we 
may  be  fenfible  of,  if  we  will  recollect,  that  it  is  always 
general,  and  that  many  fpeak  well  of  fomething  which 
they  call  religion  in  general,  when  yet  there  is  hardly 
any  of  the  fervants  of  God,  in  whofe  chara(^er  and  con- 
du6t  they  will  not  endeavor  either  to  find  or  make  a 
flaw.  The  truth  is,  though  fome  few  heroes  in  profani- 
ty villify  religion  in  itfelf  diredly,  and  in  all  its  parts, 
the  plurality  of  fcoffers  only  tell  you,  this  and  the  other 
thing  is  not  religion,  but  fuperflition,  preclfenefs,  fancy 
or  whim,  and  fo  on.  But  at  the  fame  time,  if  you  take 
away  all  that  by  fome  or  other  is  reflefted  on  under  thefe 
appellations,  you  will  leave  little  behind.  Which  plain- 
ly teaches  us  this  truth,  that  no  man  will  cordially  ap- 
prove of  fuch  a  fcheme  of  religion  as  he  does  not  believe 
and  embrace,  or  inwardly  and  without  diffimulation  ap- 
plaud a  character  that  is  better  than  his  own :  at  lealt, 
than  his  own  either  is,  or  he  falfely  prefumes  it  to  be^. 


*  For  afcertalning  the  fenfe,  and  confirming  the  truth  of  this  paf- 
fage,  it  is  proper  to  obrerve,  That  by  the  word  [better]  is  not  fo 
much  to  be  underftcod  higher  in  degree,  as  different  in  kind.  Though 
even  in  the  firfl  ienfe  i:  letins  to  hold  pretty  generally  in  compan- 
fons  between  man  and  man.  Men  commonly  extend  their  charity  to 
thofe  who  have  leis,  and  not  to  chuie  who  have  more  goodnefs  :hau 
themfelves.  I'here  are  very  few,  who,  when  they  iee  others  moi-c 
ftridl  and  regular  in  their  condncl  than  they  are  willing  to  be,  do  not 
aicribe  it  either  to  wickednefs  or  hypocrify.  Perhaps  indeed,  the  lea- 
Ibn  of  this  may  be,  that  a  gradual  difference  as  to  the  adions  doiie, 
is  coniidc'red  as  conftituting  a  fpecific  difference  in  the  moral  charac- 
ter;  and  men  condemn  others  not  for  being  better  than  chcmfelvcs, 
upon  their  own  notion  oF  goodnefs,  but  for  placing  religion  in  ihc  ex- 
tremes, which  they    apprehend  ^^^r^^x.  to   b^  av^id..!.      i  Li^  Co.-iinui 


64^  4-  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

For  this  reafon,  the  apoftle  John  gives  it  as  a  mark  or 
evidence  of  regeneration,  "  We  know  that  we  have  palT- 
"  ed  from  death  to  life,  becaufe  v/e  love  the  brethren  ;" 
that  is  to  fay,  a  fmcere  and  prevalent  love  to  a  faint 
as  fuch,  can  dwell  in  no  heart  but  that  which  is  fan6ti- 
iied. 

It  will  be  proper  here  to  take  notice,  becaufe  it  has  fome 
relation  to  this  fubje^l  of  what  the  advocates  of  the  flags 
often  make  their  boafl,  that  before  a  polifned  audience 
things  grofsly  criminal  are  not  fufFered  to  be  a6led  ;  and 
that  it  is  one  of  the  rules  of  the  drama,  that,  if  fuch  things 
be  fuppofed,  they  mult  be  kept  behind  the  fcenes.  We 
are  often  put  in  mind  of  the  pure  taile  of  an  Athenian 
audience,  who,  upon  one  of  the  actors  expreiTmg  a  profane 
thought,  all  rofe  up  and  left  the  theatre.  A  famous  French 
tragedian,  Corneille,  alfo  takes  notice  of  it  as  an  evidence 
of  the  improvement  of  the  flage  in  his  time,  that  one  of 
his  belt  written  pieces  had  not  fucceeded,  ''  Becaufe  it 
"  ilruck  the  fpedlators  with  the  horrid  idea  of  a  proilitu- 
*'  tion,  to  which  a  holy  woman  had  been  condemned." 
As  to  the  cafe  of  the  Athenians,  it  were  eafy  to  fliow 
from  the  nature  and  circumilances  of  the  fact,  that  this 
refentment  at  the  profanity  of  the  poet,  though  it  W45 
expreifed  in  the  theatre,  was  by  no  means  learned  there. 
But  it  is  needlefs  to  enter  into  any  nice  difquifition  upon 
this  fubje6i:,  for  all  that  follovv^s  from  any  fuch  inftanc^s, 
is,  that  there  are  fome  things  fo  very  grofs  and  fhocking, 
that,  as  but  a  few  of  the  mod  abandoned  will  commit 
them,   fo  the  reft  of  the  world  can  have  no  delight  in  be- 

the  remark  made  above,  that  every  man's  own  charafter  is  the  ftand- 
ard  of  his  approbation,  and  fhows  at  the  lame  time  its  inconGrrency 
with  that  humility  which  is  effential  to  every  Chriflian.  Wherever 
there  is  a  real  approbation,  and  iincere  confelFion  of  fuperior  worth, 
there  is  alio  an  unfeigned  imitation  of  it.  The  Chrihian  not  only 
knows  himfelf  to  be  infinitely  diftawt  from  God,  whom  yet  he  I'u- 
premely  loves,  but  thinks  himfelf  lefs  than  the  leaQ  of  all  faints  ;  but 
he  could  neither  love  the  one  nor  the  other,  if  he  had  not  a  real, 
however  dillant  likenefs  ;  if  he  had  not  the  feeds  of  every  good  dit- 
pofition  implanted  in  him,  the  growth  of  which  is  his  lupreme  defire, 
and  the  improvement  of  which  is  the  ccnflant  objcdl  cf  his  care  and 
diligence. 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage,  6  5 

holding  them.  There  is,  no  doubt,  a  great  variety  of 
characters  differing  one  from  anodier  in  the  degree  of 
their  degeneracy,  and  yet  all  of  them  effentially  diilin6l 
from  true  piety. 

To  fet  this  matter  in  a  jufl  light,  we  mud  remember, 
that,  as  has  been  confeffed  above,  the  matter  of  many 
good  actions,  or  a  defedive  imperfedt  form  of  virtue  is 
approved  by  the  generality  of  the  world  ;  and,  that  they 
are  very  much  fvvayed  in  their  adions  by  a  view  to  pub- 
lic praife.  Therefore,  they  are  mutually  checks  to  on^ 
another,  and  vice  is  not  i^ccn  on  a  theatre  in  a  grofs,  but 
commonly  in  a  more  dangerous,  becaufe  an  engaging 
and  infinuating  form.  '  The  pre  fence  of  fo  many  wit- 
neffes  does  reflrain  and  difguife  lin,  but  cannot  change  its 
nature,  or  render  it  innocent.  The  purity  of  the  theatre 
can  never  be  carried  farther  by  the  tafte  of  the  audience, 
than  what  is  required  in  converfation  with  the  polite  and 
fafliiona-ble  world.  There  vice  is  in  fome  meafure  re- 
llrained ;  men  may  be  wicked,  but  they  muil  not  be  rude. 
How  much  this  amounts  to  is  but  too  well  known  ;  it  is 
no  more  than  that  we  muft  not  difguft  thofe  with  v/hom 
we  converfe,  and  varies  with  their  charadler.  This  is 
fo  far  from  being  agreeable  to  the  rules  of  the  gofpel,  that 
a  ferious  Chrillian  is  often  oblioed,  from  a  fenfe  of  dutv, 
to  be  guilty  of  a  breach  of  good  manners,  by  adininiftring 
unacceptable  reproof.  v 

Thus  it  appears  that,  in  the  ilage,  the  audience  gives 
lav/  to  the  poet,  vv^hich  is  much  the  fame  thing  as  the  fcbc- 
lar  chufmg  his  own  lefTon ;  and  whether  this  be  a  fafe  or 
profitable  method  of  inHrudion,  is  eafy  to  judge.  Every 
one  who  knows  human  nature,  efpecially  who  believes  the 
reprefentation  given  of  it  in  fcripture,  muil  conclude, 
that  the  young  will  be  feduced  into  the  commilFion,  and 
the  older  confirmed  and  hardened  in  the  practice  of  fm ; 
becaufe  characters,  flindamentally  wrong,  will  be  there 
painted  out  in  an  amiable  light,  and  diveiled  of  what  is 
moft  fhameful  and  lliocking.  By  this  means  confcience, 
inftead  of  being  alarmed,  and  giving  faithful  teftimony,  is 
deceived  and  mnde  a  partv  in  the  caufe.     In  ihort,  vice 

Vol.  III.  '      I 


C6  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

in  the  theatre  muft  wear  the  garb,  affume  the  name,  and 
claim  the  reward  of  virtue. 

How  ilrong  a  confirmation  of  this  have  we  from  expe- 
rience ?  Have  not  plays  in  fa6l  commonly  turned  upon 
the  characters  moft  grateful,  and  the  events  moft  intereft- 
ing  to  corrupt  nature  ?  Pride,  under  the  name  of  great- 
nefs  of  mind,  ambition  and  revenge,  under  thofe  of  valor 
and  heroifm,  have  been  their  conllant  fubjeds.  But 
chiefly  love :  this,  which  is  the  ftrongeft  paflion,  and  the 
mod  dangerous  in  the  human  frame,  and  from  which  the 
greateft  number  of  crimes,  and  crimes  the  moft  atrocious, 
have  fprung,  was  ahvays  encouraged  upon  the  ftage. 
There,  women  are  fwelled  with  vanity,  by  feeing  their 
fex  deified  and  adored  ;  there  men  learn  the  language,  as 
well  as  feel  by  fympathy,  the  tranfports  of  that  pafTion ; 
and  there  the  hearts  of  both  are  open  and  unguarded  to 
receive  the  imprefTion,  becaufe  it  is  covered  with  a  malk 
of  honor.  Hath  this  then  been  only  the  cafe  at  particular 
times  of  occafional  corruption,  or  for  want  of  a  proper  re- 
gulation of  the  ftage  ?  No,  it  is  infeparable  from  its  con- 
Hitution.  Such  hath  been  the  nature  and  tendency  of 
plays  in  all  former  ages,  and  fuch,  from  the  tafte  and  dif- 
pofition  of  thofe  who-  attend  them,  it  is  certain  they  will 
forever  continue  to  be.* 


*  Perhaps  it  will  be  alledged,  that  the  whole  force  of  this  reafonin^ 
may  be  evaded,  by  fuppoiing  a  flage  direded  by  the  magiflrate,  and 
fupported  at  the  public  charge.  In  this  cafe  the  performers  would  be 
under  no  temptation,  for  gain,  to  gratify  the  tafte  of  the  audience,  and 
the  managers  would  have  quite  a  different  intention.  It  is  confefTed, 
that  this  fuppofition  feems  conf  derably  to  weaken  the  arguments  above 
ufed,  though  perhaps  more  in  theory  than  it  would  do  in  practice.  But 
I  would  aik  any  who  make  fuch  a  fuppofition,  why  this  inviolable  at- 
tachment to  the  flage  ?  Why  mufl:  fo  many  efforts  be  made  to  prc- 
ferve  it  in  fome  fhape  or  other !  What  are  its  mighty  benefits,  that 
it  mufi:  be  forced  as  it  were,  cut  of  its  own  natural  courfe  in  order  to 
make  it  lawful,  rather  than  we  will  give  it  up  as  pernicious  ? — It  ii 
alfo  to  be  obferved  that,  however  ufeful  an  ordinance  of  Gcd,  magif- 
tracy  be  for  public  order,  there  is  very  little  fecurity  in  the  direc- 
tion of  magiflrates,  for  found  and  wholefome  inflru(Slion  in  religion 
or  morals.  We  can  never  depend  upon  them  for  this,  unlefs  they  arc 
themfelves  perfons  of  true  piety,  and  not  always  even  when  that  is  the 
cafe,  becaufe  they  may  be  guilty  of  many  errors  in  judgment.     Novr 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage.  67 

Another  argument,  which  fliews  the  ftage  to  be  an  im- 
proper method  of  inftru6tion,  or  rather  that  it  is  pernicious 
and  hurtful,  may  be  drawn  from  its  own  nature.  In  its 
mofl  improved  ftate,  it  is  a  pi6lure  of  human  life,  and  muft 
reprefent  characters  as  they  really  are.  An  author  for  the 
ftage  is  not  permitted  to  feign,  but  to  paint  and  copy. 
Though  he  fhould  introduce  things  or  perfons  ever  fo  ex- 
cellent, if  there  were  not  difcerned  a  refemblance  be- 
tween them  and  real  life,  they  would  be  fo  far  from  being 
applauded,  that  they  would  not  be  fuffered,  but  would  be 
condemned,  as  a  tranfgreffion  of  the  fundamental  rules  of 
the  art.  Now,  are  not  the  great  majority  of  charadters  in 
real  life  bad  ?  Muft  not  the  greateft  part  of  thofe  repre- 
fented  on  the  ftage  be  bad  ?  And  therefore  muft  not  the 
ftrong  impreilion  which  they  make  upon  the  fpeCtators  be 
hurtful  in  the  fame  proportion  ? 

It  is  a  known  truth,  eftablilhed  by  the  experience  of  all 
ages,  that  bad  example  has  a  powerful  and  unhappy  influ- 
ence upon  human  characters.     Sin  is  of  a  contagious  and 

it  is  not  reafonable  to  hope,  that  maglftrates  in  any  country,  "vvill 
be  always,  or  even  generally,  perions  of  true  piety.  Such,  with  the 
other  qualifications  neceirary  to  magiftrates,  are  not  always  to  be  found. 
Neither  is  there  any  neceffity  for  it ;  becaufe,  though  doubtlefs,  thofe 
■who  fear  God  will  be  the  moft  faithful  magiitrates,  and  the  moft 
dutiful  fubjedis,  yet  the  greateft  part  of  the  duties  of  both  may  be  per- 
formed without  this,  in  a  manner  in  which  the  public  will  fee  and  feel 
very  little  difference,  Magiftracy  has  only  the  outward  carriage,  and 
not  the  heart  for  its  objedl ;  and  it  is  the  feqfible  effe^  which  the  pub- 
lie  looks  for,  and  not  the  principle  from  which  any  thing  is  done. 
Therefore,  as  on  the  one  hand,  if  a  fubjecl  obeys  the  laws,  and  out- 
■vyardly  fulfils  the  duties  of  his  ftation,  the  magiftrate  hath  nothing- 
farther  to  d.emand,  though  it  be  only  for  "v/rath,"  nnd  not  "  forcon- 
fcience  fake  ;"  fo  on  the  other,  if  a  magiftrate  be  diligent  in  prefervino; 
-order,  and  promoting  the  general  good,  tliough  the  motive  of  his  ac- 
tions be  no  better  than  vanity,  ambition,  or  the  fear  of  man  well  con^ 
cealed,  the  public  reaps  the  benefit,  and  has  no  ground  of  complaint, 
even  whilft  his  character  is  deteftible  in  the  fight  of  God.  But  this 
magiftrate  can  never  be  fafely  intrufted  with  th.e  direcStion  of  what  re- 
gards our  moral  and  fpiritual  improvement,  and  he  would  be  going  out 
of  his  ow^n  fphere  fnould  he  attempt  it. After  all,  it  makes  lit- 
tle difference  .whether  the  magiftrate  or  any  body  elfe  diredls  the  ftage, 
while  the  attendance  is  voluntary  ;  for  in  that  cafe,  it  muft  either  b^ 
Suited  to  the  tafte  of  the  audience,  or  it  ^Yill  be  wholly  deferted^ 


6S  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  tbe 

fpreading  nature,  and  tlie  human  heart  is  but  too  fufcepti- 
ble  of  the  infeftlon.  This  may  be  afcribed  to  feveral 
caufes,  and  to  one  hi  particular  which  is  apphcable  to  the 
prefent  cafe,  that  the  feeing  of  lln  R-equently  committed, 
muft  gradually  abate  that  horror  which  we  ought  to  have 
of  it  upon  our  minds,  and  which  ferves  to  keep  us  from 
yielding  to  its  folicitations.  Frequently  feeing  the  moft 
terrible  objects  renders  them  fanuliar  to  our  view,  and 
makes  us  behold  them  with  lefs  emotion.  And  from 
feeing  fm  without  reluclance,  the  tranfition  is  ealy,  to  a 
compliance  with  its  repeated  importULuty,  efpccially  as 
there  are  latent  remaining  difpofitions  to  finning  in  every 
heart  that  is  but  imperfe6lly  fanctified.  it  will  be  difficult 
to  allign  any  other  reafon,  why  wickednefs  is  always  car- 
ried to  a  far  greater  height  in  large  and  populous  cities, 
than  in  the  country.  Do  not  multitudes,  in  places  of 
great  re  fort,  come  to  perpetrate,  calmly  and  ledately, 
without  any  remorfe,  fuch  crimes  as  would  furprile  a  lefs 
knovv'ing  fmner  fo  much  as  to  hear  of  ?  Can  it  then  be 
fafe,  to  be  prefent  at  the  exhibition  of  fo  many  vicious 
chara6l:ers  as  always  mufl:  appear  upon  the  flage  .''  Mull 
it  not-,  like  other  examples,  have  a  flrong,  though  in- 
fenfible  influence,  and  indeed  the  more  flrong,  becaufe 
unperceivcd. 

Perhaps  feme  will  fay,  This  argument  draws  very 
deep,  it  is  a  reproaching  of  Providence,  and  finding 
fault  with  the  order  which  God  hath  appointed,  at  leafl 
permitted,  to  take  place  in  the  world,  where  the  very 
fame  proportion  of  Avicked  chara6lers  is  to  be  feen.  But 
is  there  not  a  wide  difierence  between  the  permdflion  of 
any  thing  by  a  wife,  holy,  and  jufl  God,  or  its  ma- 
king part  of  the  plan  of  providence,  and  our  prefuming 
to  do  the  fame  thing,  without  authority,  and  when  we 
can  neither  reftrain  it  within  proper  bounds,  nor  dircifl 
it  to  its  proper  end  ?  There  are  many  things  which  are 
proper  and  competent  to  God,  which  it  would  be  the 
moll:  atrocious  wickednefs  in  man  to  imitate.  Becaufe 
it  is  both  good  and  jufl  in  God  to  vifit  us  with  ficknefs, 
or  to  take  us  away  by  death  v/hen  he  fees  it  proper, 
would  it  therefore  be  lawful  in  us,  to  bring  any  of  them 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage,  69 

upon  onrfelves  at  our  own  pleafnre  ?  I  Ihould  rather  be 
inclined  to  think,  that  thefe  fportive  reprefentations  on 
the  llage,  inflead  of  being  warranted  by  their  counter- 
part in  the  world,  are  a  daring  profanation,  and  as  it 
were,  a  mockery  of  divine  Providence,  and  fo  to  be  con- 
fidered  in  a  light  yet  more  dreadful,  than  any  in  which 
they  have  been  hitherto  viewed.  Befides,  it  ouglit  to  be 
remembered  that,  though  evil  adlions,  as  permitted, 
make  a  part  of  the  will  of  God,  yet  hitherto,  all  who 
deferve  the  name  of  Chriflians  have  affirmed,  that  what 
is  fuiful  in  any  a6lion  is  to  be  afcribed  to  the  will  of  the 
creature  as  its  adequate  caule  ;  and  therefore,  exhibiting 
human  adlions  and  characters  upon  the  llage,  is  not  only 
reprefenting  the  Vv^orks  of  God,  but  repeating  the  fins  of 
men. 

Tlie  criminal  and  dangerous  nature  of  fuch  a  conduCl 
will  farther  appear  from  this,  that  it  is  by  juft  and  ne- 
ceiTary  confcqtience  forbidden  in  the  v/ord  of  God. 
There  we  find,  that  though  in  his  fovereign  providence 
he  permits  the  commiffion  of  fni,  fuffers  his  own  people 
to  continue  mixed  with  finners  in  this  ftate,  and  makes 
their  connection  v/ith  them  in  fome  meafure  unavoidable, 
as  a  part  of  their  trial,  yet  he  hath  exprefsly  prohibited 
them  from  having  any  more  communication  v/ith  fuch, 
than  he  himfelf  hath  made  neceflary.  We  are  warned 
in  Scripture,  that  "  evil  communications  corrupt  good 
manners,"  and  therefore,  that  we  mull  fly  the  fociety  of 
the  ungodly.  The  Pfalmill  tells  us,  ''  BlelTed  is  the  man 
^'  that  walketh  not  in  the  counfel  of  the  ungodly,  nor 
"  llandeth  in  the  way  of  fnmers,  nor  fitteth  in  the  feat 
*'  of  the  fcornful,"  Pfal.  i.  i.  Agreeably  to  this  the  cha- 
racters of  good  men  in  Scripture  are  always  reprefent- 
ed.  Thus  the  Pfalmiit  David  records  his  own  refoluti- 
on,  "  I  will  fet  no  wicked  thing  before  mine  eyes,  I  hate 
"  the  work  of  them  that  turn  afide,  it  fnall  not  cleave  to 
"  me.  A  froward  heart  fliall  depart  from  me,  I  will  not 
''  know  a  wicked  perfon,"  PfaL  ci.  3,  4.  The  fame  fays 
elfevvhere,  "  I  am  a  comp?inion  of  all  them  that  fear  thee, 
"  and  of  them  that  keep  thy  precepts,  Pfal.  cxix.  63. — 
''  Depart  from  me  ye  evil  doers,  for  I  will  keep  the  com- 
>"  mandments  of  my  God."     ver.  115. 


70  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

But  there  is  no  need  of  citing  paffages  of  Scripture  to 
this  purpofe  ;  it  is  well  known,  that  good  men,  though 
they  will  be  very  cautious  of  rafhly  determining  cha- 
raders  that  are  doubtful,  and  will  far  lefs  difcover  a 
proud  and  pharifaical  contempt  of  any  who  may  yet  be 
vefTels  of  mercy,  will  however,  carefully  avoid  all  unne- 
ceiFary  communication  with  fmners.  They  will  nei- 
ther follow  their  perfons  from  inclination,  nor  view  their 
condu£t  with  pleafure.  On  the  contrary,  when  they  can- 
not wholly  fly  from  their  fociety,  it  becomes  a  heavy 
burthen,  and  in  fome  cafes  intolerable,  and  fo  as  to  re- 
quire the  interpofition  of  the  fame  kind  Providence  that 
''  delivered  juft  Lot,  vexed  with  the  filthy  converfation 
*'  of  the  wicked.''  Is  their  ariy  confillency  between 
fuch  a  character,  and  attending  the  ilage  with  delight  ? 
Will  thofe  who  "  behold  tranfgrellbrs,  and  are  grieved," 
croud  witheagernefsto  the  theatre,  where  the  fam.e  per- 
fons and  a6:ions  are  brought  under  review  ?  Will  what 
afFe6led  them  with  forrow  in  the  commilhon,  be  volunta- 
rily chofen,  and  made  fubfervient  to  their  pleafure  in  the 
repetition. 

I  cannot  help  here  calling  to  mind  the  anxious  con- 
cern, which  wife  and  pious  parents  ufually  fhew  for  their 
children,  on  account  of  the  fnares  to  which  they  are  un- 
avoidably expofed  in  an  evil  world.  How  carefully  do 
they  point  out,  and  how  folemnly  do  they  charge  them 
to  fhun  the  paths  in  which  deiiroyers  go.  They  ufe  this 
caution  with  refpe6l  to  the  world,  even  as  under  the 
government  of  God  ;  and  in  fo  doing  they  follow  the  ex- 
ample of  their  Saviour,  who,  in  the  profpe6t  of  leaving 
his  difciples,  after  many  excellent  advices,  puts  up  for 
them  this  interceilbry  prayer  ;  ''  And  now  I  am  no  more 
"  in  this  world,  bat  thefe  are  in  the  world,  and  I  am  com.e 
*^  to  thee.  Holy  Father,  keep  through  th?ne  own  name 
"  thofe  whom  thou  hall  given  me,  that  they  may  be  one 
"  as  we  are. — I  pray  not  that  thou  fliouldft  take  them 
**  out  of  the  world,  but  that  thou  fhouldil  keep  them 
"  from  the  evil,"  John  xvii  ii,  15.  Can  any  expedl 
that  this  prayer  will  be  heard  in  their  behalf,  who  are  not 
content  v/ith  feeing  the  world  as  it  is  ordered  by  a  wife 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage,  71 

and  holy  God,  but  mull  fee  it  over  again,  in  a  vile  imita- 
tion, by  a  finful  man. 

It  will  probably  be  faid,  that  this  flrikes  as  much  againfl 
hiftory,  at  leaft  the  writing  and  reading  of  human,  com- 
monly called  profane,  hiftory,  as  againft  the  writing  and 
feeing  of  dramatic  reprefentations.  But  the  cafes  are  by 
no  means  the  fame  ;  the  knowledge  of  hiftory  is,  in  many 
refpedts,  necefTary  for  the  great  purpofes  of  religion. — 
Were  not  this  the  cafe,  there  would  be  little  difficulty  in 
admitting  the  confequence.  Perhaps,  even  as  it  is,  it 
had  been  better  for  the  world  that  feveral  ancient  fatfls 
and  characters,  which  now  ftand  upon  record,  had  been 
buried  in  oblivion^.  At  any  rate  it  may  be  fafely  af- 
firmed, that  romances  and  fabulous  narrations  are  a 
fpecies  of  compofition,  from  which  the  world  hath  receiv- 
ed as  little  benefit,  and  as  much  hurt,  as  any  that  can  be 
named,  excepting  plays  themfelves,  to  which  they  are  fo 
nearly  allied.     The  firft  are  only  exceeded  by  the  laft,  as 

*  Perhaps  fome  will  be  furprized  at  what  is  here  faid  on  the  fubjecSl 
of  hiftory,  who  have  not  ufually  viewed  it  in  this  light.  And  indeed 
this  i^  the  great  difficulty  in  the  v/hole  of  the  preicnt  argument,  to 
overcome  ftrong  prepoffeffions,  and  to  fliew  men  the  fin  and  danger  of 
a  practice  which  they  know  to  be  common,  and  have  been  long  accuf- 
tomed  to  look  upon  as  lawful  and  fafe.  For  this  reafon,  it  is  probable, 
that  the  beft  way  of  proving  that  the  above  affertion  on  the  fubjedl  of 
hiftory,  is  agreeable  to  Scripture  and  reafon,  will  be  by  a  cafe  perfeftly 
fimilar,  but  more  frequently  handled.  Do  not  all  Chriftian  writers, 
without  exception,  who  treat  of  the  government  of  the  tongue,  \:\y 
down  this  as  a  rule,  that  we  are  not  to  report  the  fins  of  others,  though 
we  know  the  truth  of  the  fadls,  unlefs  where  it  is  necefTary  to  fomc 
good  end  ?  Now  why  fhould  there  be  any  different  rule  in  writing, 
than  in  converfation  ?  What  is  done  either  way,  is  the  fame  in  fub- 
ftance,  viz.  communicating  information  ;  and  writing,  which  may  be 
called  vifible  fpeech,  i:i  mnch  more  lafting  la  its  nature  and  extenfivc 
in  its  effeds.  If  any  aik.  How,  or  why  the  knowledge  of  hiftory  is 
neceflary  to  the  purpofes  of  religioji  ?  I  anfwer,  it  is  neceffary  for  prov- 
ing the  truths  of  natural,  and  confirming  thofe  of  revealed  religion  ; 
for  repelling  the  attacks  of  adverfai-ies,  and  giving  us  fuch  a  view  of 
the  plan  of  Providence,  as  may  excite  us  to  the  exercife  of  the  duties 
of  adoration,  thankfulnefs,  truft,  and  fiibmifiion  to  the  fupreme  Dlfpo- 
fer  of  all  events.  Real  fads  only  are  proper  for  this  purpofc,  and  not 
feigned  ftories,  in  the  choice  and  drefiing  of  which,  experience  teaches 
us,  the  great  end  is,  that  man  may  be  pleafed,  and  not  that  God  may- 
be Q-lorified. 


72  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

to  their  capacity  of  doing  mifchief,  bj  the  circumllances 
of  a6lion,  and  the  prefence  at  once  of  fo  many  perfons, 
among  whom  by  mutual  fympathy,  the  fpiritual  poifon 
fpreads  fafter  and  penetrates  deeper. 

Left  it  fliould  be  pretended  that  fuch  a  turn  is  given 
to  things  in  the  reprefentation,  as  that,  though  the  greateft 
part  of  the  actions  reprefented  are  ill  in  themfelves,  yet 
vice  is  reproached  or  ridiculed,  virtue  fet  upon  a  throne, 
reu^arded  and  honored :  let  it  be  called  to  mind  that,  as 
has  been  fhewn  above,  the  author  is  not  left  at  liberty 
to  do  in  this  as  he  pleafes.  He  muft  p;ratify  the  public 
taile,  and  the  rules  he  is  obliged  to  obferve,  have  rather 
the  contrary  effedl.  For  he  muft  diveft  his  bad  charac- 
ters of  what  is  mofl  horrid  and  fliocking,  and  prefent 
them  lefs  deformed  than  they  really  are.  Befides,  though 
he  may  conceal  a  part,  he  mult  not  alter  nature  fo  far  as 
he  goes,  but  take  it  as  he  finds  it.  Accordingly  fome  of 
our  modern  critics  tell  us,  that  there  ought  to  be  no  par- 
ticular moral  in  a  dramatic  performance,  becaufe  that  is 
a  departure  from  nature,  and  fo  not  in  tafte. 

It  ought  not  to  be  forgotten,  that  attending  dramatic 
reprefentations  is  not  only  feeing  a  gi-eat  plurality  of  bad 
ciiaradlers  without  neceirity,and  feeing  them  with  patience, 
but  it  is  feeing  them  with  pleafure.  Whether  or  not  en- 
tertainment be  yielded  to  be  the  only  or  ultimate  efFedt 
of  plaj^s,  furely  it  cannot  be  denied  to  be  one  efFedl  fought 
and  expected  from  them,  and  from  every  part  of  them. 
An  avTtor  is  as  much  applauded,  and  gives  as  much  plea- 
fure 10  the  fpeftators,  when  he  reprefents  a  bad  chara6ler 
to  the  life,  as  a  good.  Is  there  no  danger  then,  that  a 
heart  foftened  by  delight,  fliould  be  more  liable  to  infec- 
tion from  evil  than  at  other  times  ?  Is  there  no  danger 
that  an  afibciation  Ihould  be  formed  in  the  mind,  between 
the  fenfe  of  pleafure  and  the  comiuhTion  of  fiii  ?  Will  any 
perfon  afnrm,  that  in  fuch  circuiullances  he  feels  thtit 
holy  indignation  againft  fin,  which  evxry  Chrifiian  ought 
to  conceive  upon  feeing  it  committed  ?  Or,  that  he  is 
able  to  preferve  that  awe  and  fear,  which  he  ought  to  have 
of  the  jull  judgment  of  God^  when  he  lees  the  crimes  that 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage.  73 

merit  it  boldly  rc-a6led,  and  finely  mimicked  in  a  perfo- 
liate d  charadler. 

So  far  is  this  from  being  the  cafe,  that  every  perfon 
attending  the  reprefentation  of  a  play,  enters  in  fome 
meafare  himfelf,  as  well  as  the  a6lors,  into  the  fpirit  of 
each  character,  and  the  more  fo  the  better  the  a61:ion  is 
performed.  His  attention  is  ftrongly  fixed,  his  afTedlions 
are  feized  and  carried  away,  and  a  total  forgetfulnefs  of 
every  thing  takes  place,  except  what  is  immediately  be- 
fore him.  Can  the  various  pafTions  be  fo  llrongly  excited 
as  they  are  fometimes  known  to  be,  and  no  efFedl  remain  ? 
Will  not  the  palTion  of  love,  for  example,  after  it  has  been 
flrongly  felt  by  the  fpe6lator  in  fympathy  with  the  a6tor, 
be  a  little  more  ready  to  recur,  efpecially  as  nature 
prompts,  and  various  foliciting  obje6ls  are  daily  prefented 
to  his  eye  ?  The  author  terminates  his  plot  as  he  {tQ^ 
befl,  and  draws  what  conclufions  he  thinks  proper  from 
his  chara(Sters,  but  he  has  no  reafon  to  think  that  he  can 
controul  the  paffions  which  he  raifes  in  the  fpe6lators  in 
the  fame  manner,  and  not  fufFer  them  to  exceed  the 
bounds  of  his  defcription.  Will  not  the  pafTion  of  re- 
venge, that  right  hand  of  a  falfe  greatnefs  of  mind,  after 
it  has  been  flrongly  excited  in  the  theatre,  be  apt  to  rife 
again  upon  every  real  or  fuppofed  provocation  ?  Some 
learned  obfervers  of  nature  tell  us,  that  every  paflion  we 
feel  caufes  a  new  modification  of  the  blood  and  fpirits  ; 
if  there  is  any  truth  in  this,  then  every  paflion  excited  in 
the  theatre  takes  pofieflion  for  a  time  of  the  very  animal 
frame,  makes  a  feat  to  itfelf,  and  prepares  for  a  fpeedy 
return. 

Having  thus  endeavored  to  fliow,  that  the  ftage,  whe- 
ther amufement  or  inftruCtion  be  aimed  at  in  it,  cannot 
be  attended  by  any  Chrillian  without  fm  ;  there  is  a  third 
general  argument  againfl  it,  which  merits  confideration. 
It  is,  that  no  perfon  can  contribute  to  the  encouragement 
of  the  ftage,  without  being  partaker  of  the  fms  of  others. 
This  is  proper  to  be  attended  to,  as  it  is  againil  a  public 
theatre  that  the  arguments  in  this  effay  are  chiefly  level- 
led ;  fo  that,  if  it  be  criminal  at  all,  every  perfon  attending 
it,  is  not  only  faulty  by  his  own  proper  condudl,  but  \$ 

Vol.  III.  '         K 


y4  ^  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

farther  chargeable  with  the  guilt  of  feduoing  others.  Be^ 
fides,  v/ithout  this  the  argument,  to  fome,  would  not  be 
altogether  complete,  for  after  all  that  has  been  advanced, 
there  may  be  a  few,  who  in  a  good  meafure  yield  it  to  be 
true,  and  yet  have  another  fubterfuge  remaining.  They 
acknov/ledge,  perhaps,  that  it  is  a  moft  hazardous  amufe- 
ment,  to  which  others  ought  ordinarily  to  be  preferred  : 
That  the  bulk  of  plays  will,  much  more  probably,  pollute 
than  improve  the  far  greatefl  part  of  thofe  who  attend 
them.  Yet  flill  they  are  apt  to  figure  to  themfelves  par- 
ticular cafes  as  exceptions  from  the  general  rule,  and  to 
fuppofe,  there  are  some  plays  which  may  be  attended,  or 
at  leaf!:,  that  there  are  some  perfons,  who  have  fo  much 
clearnefs  of  judgment,  and  fo  much  conllancy  in  virtue, 
as  to  feparate  the  corn  from  the  chaff.  At  a  particular 
time,  they  fuppofe,  a  perfon  of  this  kind  may,  without 
receiving  any  hurt,  be  improved  by  the  fine  fentiments 
contained  in  plays :  'and  alfo  learn  fomething,  to  be  ap- 
plied to  other  purpofes,  of  that  force  aud  juftnefs  of  a6lion, 
that  grace  and  beauty  of  behaviour, '  which  is  no  where 
feen  in  fo  great  perfection  as  on  the  fege. 

Upon  this  fabje6l  in  general,  it  may  be  affirmed,  that 
thofe  who  have  this  confidence  in  the  llrength  of  their 
own  virtue,  are  far  from  being  the  perfons  who  may  be 
mofc  fafely  trufted  in  a  place  of  danger.  On  the  con- 
trary, thofe  will  probably  be  moll  truly  fledfafl,  when 
expofed  to  temptations,  who  are  mofl  diffident  of  them* 
felves,  and  do  not  wantonly  run  into  it.  Yet,  fince 
fome  may  take  encouragement  from  fuch  apprehenfions, 
it  is  proper  to  obferve  that,  though  there  were  truth  in 
their  pretence,  yet  w^ould  it  not  therefore  be  law^ful  for 
them  to  attend  the  theatre.  They  could  not  do  {o  with- 
out contributing  to  the  fins  of  others,  a  thing  exprcfsly 
prohibited  in  the  holy  Scriptures,  and  indeed  diame- 
trically oppofite  to  the  two  principal  branches  of  true 
religion,  concern  for  the  glory  of  God,  and  compafiion  to 
the  fouls  of  men. 

There  are  two  ways  in  which  the  occafional  attending 
of  plays,  by  thofe  ivho  are  of  good  character,  eveil  fup- 
pofing  it  not  hurtful  to  theuifelves,  contributes  to  the  fins 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage,  75- 

of  others.  ( i. )  By  fupporting  the  players  in  that  un- 
chrilHan  occupation.  (  2, )  Encouraging,  by  their  exam- 
ple, thofe  to  attend  all  plays  indifcriininately,  who  are  la 
moft  danger  of  infection. 

Firft,  It  contributes  to  fupport  the  players  in  an  un^ 
chriftian  occupation.  After  what  has  been  faid  above, 
and  which  I  now  take  for  granted,  on  the  impropriety  of 
plays  as  an  amufement,  and  the  impolTibility  of  furnifh- 
ing  a  itage  with  nothing  but  found  and  wholefome  produc- 
iLons,  little  doubt  can  remain,  that  the  occupation  of  play- 
ers is  inconfiftent  with  the  character  of  a  Chrillian.  What- 
ever occafional  prefence  may  be  to  fome  fpectators,  conti- 
nual performing  can  never  be  lawful  to  the  a.£tors.  On 
the  very  bell  fuppofition,  it  is  a  life  of  perpetual  amufe- 
ment, which  is  equally  contrary  to  reafon  and  religion. 
It  is  a  mean  proftitution  of  tlie  rational  powers,  to  have 
no  higher  end  in  view,  than  contributing  to  the  pleafure 
and  entertainment  of  the  idle  part  of  mankind,  and  in^ 
ftead  of  taking  amufement  with  the  moderation  of  a  Chrif- 
tian', to  make  it  the  very  bufmefs  and  employment  of  life. 
How  ftrange  a  character  does  it  make  for  one  to  live,  in 
a  manner,  perpetually  in  a  maik,  to  be  much  oftener  in 
a  perfonated  than  in  a  real  character  ?  And  yet  this  is  the 
cafe  with  all  players,  if  to  the  time  fpent  in  the  reprefen- 
tation,  you  add  that  which  is  necellary  to  prepare  for  their 
public  appearances.  What  foul  polluted  minds  muft  thefe 
be,  which  are  fuch  a  receptacle  of  foreign  vanities,  befides 
their  own  natural  corruption,  and  where  one  fyllem  or 
plan  of  folly  is  obliterated  only  to  make  way  for  another^ 

But  the  life  of  players  is  not  only  idle  and  vain,  and 
therefore  inconfiftent  with  the  charadher  of  a  Chriftian, 
but  it  is  ftill  more  dire(5lly  and  grofsly  criminal.  We  have 
feen  above,  that  not  only  from  tlie  tafte  of  the  audience, 
the  prevailing  tendency  of  all  fuccefsful  plays  muft  be 
bad,  but  that  in  the  very  nature  of  the  thing,  the  greateft 
part  of  the  chara61ers  reprefented  muft  be  vicious.  What 
then  is  the  life  of  a  player  ?  It  is  wholly  fpent  in  endea- 
/voring  to  exprefs  the  language,  and  exhibit  a  perfeQ 
picture  of  the  paJlions  of  vicious  men.  For  this  purpofc 
they  muft  ftrive  to  enter  into  the  fplrit,  and  feel  the  hnlu 


76  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

ments  proper  to  fuch  chara6lers.  Unlefs  they  do  fo,  the 
performance  will  be  quite  faint  and  weak,  if  not  wholly 
faulty  and  unnatural.  And  can  they  do  this  fo  frequent- 
ly without  retaining  much  of  the  impreffion,  and  at  lall, 
becoming  in  truth  v/hat  they  are  fo  often  in  appearance  ? 
Do  not  the  chara6lers  of  all  men  take  a  tin(^ure  from 
their  employment  and  way  of  life  ?  How  much  more 
muil  theirs  be  infected,  who  arc  converfant,  not  in  out- 
ward occupations,  but  in  characters  themfelves,  the  acti- 
ons, paffions,  and  affedlions  of  men  ?  if  their  perform- 
ances touch  the  audience  fo  fenfibly,  and  produce  in  them 
fo  lafting  an  effedl,  how  much  more  muft  the  fame  efFedts; 
take  place  in  themfelves,  whofe  whole  time  is  fpent  in 
this  manner  ? 

This  is  fo  certain,  and  at  the  fame  time  fo  acknow- 
ledged a  truth,  that  even  thofe  who  are  fondeft  of  thea- 
trical amufements,  do  yet  not  notwithilanding  efteem  the 
employment  of  players  a  mean  and  fordid  profefiion. 
Their  character  has  been  infamous  in  all  ages,  jufl  a  li- 
ving copy  of  that  vanity,  obfcenity,  and  impiety  which 
is  to  be  found  in  the  pieces  which  they  reprefent.  As  the 
world  has  been  polluted  by  the  ftage,  fo  they  have  always 
been  more  eminently  fo,  as  it  is  natural  to  fuppofe,  being 
the  very  ciilerns  in  which  this  pollution  is  coUefed,  and 
from  vv^hich  it  is  diftributed  to  others.  It  makes  no  differ- 
ence in  the  argument,  that  we  mult  here  fuppofe  the  flage 
to  be  regulated  and  improved,  for  as  it  hath  been  fliewn,, 
that  it  can  never  be  ih  regulated  as  to  be  fafe  for  the  fpec- 
tators,  it  mufl  be  always  worfe  for  the  adlors,  between 
whom  and  the  audience  the  fame  proportion  will  Itill  re- 
main. Can  it  then  be  lawful  in  any  to  contribute,  in  the 
lead  degree,  to  fupport  men  in  this  unhallowed  employ- 
ment ?  Is  not  the  theatre  truly  andeffentially,  what  it  has 
been  often  called  rhetorically,  the  fchool  of  impiety,  where 
it  is  their  very  bufmefs  to  learn  wickedncfs  ?  And  will  a 
Chriftian,  upon  any  pretended  advantage  to  himfelf,  join 
in  this  confederacy  againll  God,  and  alfiit  in  endov/ing 
and  upholding  the  dreadful  feminary  ? 

Secondly,  Men  of  good  character  going  occalionally  to 
the  theatre,  contributes  to  the  fins  of  others,  by  embcld- 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage,  77 

ening  thofe  to  attend  all  plays  indifcriminately,  v/ho  are 
in  moft  danger  oF  infedion.  If  there  be  any  at  all,-  efpe- 
ciallv  if  there  be  a  ereat  number,  to  whom  the  llao;e  is 
noxious  and  fmful,  every  one  without  exception  is  bound 
to  abftain.  The  apoflle  Paul  exprefsly  commands  the 
Corinthians  to  abftain  from  lawful  things,  when  their 
ufmg  them  v/ould  make  their  brother  to  offend,  that  is  to 
fay,  would  lead  him  into  ftn.  "  But  take  heed,  left  by 
"  any  means,  this  liberty  of  yours  become  a  llumbling- 
"  block  to  them  that  are  v/eak.  For  if  any  man  fee  thee 
*'  which  haft  knowledge,  fit  at  meat  in  the  idols  temple, 
"  fhallnot  the  confcience  of  him  that  is  weak,  be  embol- 
"  dened  to  eat  thofe  things  which  are  offered  to  idols  ? 
''  And  through  thy  knowledge  Ihall  the  weak  brother  pe- 
"  rifh,  for  whom  Chrift  died.  But  when  ye  ftn  fo  againft: 
*'  the  brethren,  and  wound  their  weak  confcience,  ye  lin 
*'  againft  Chrift.  Wherefore  if  meat  make  my  brother  to 
'^  offend,  I  will  eat  nofiefh  while  the  world  ftandcth,  left 
"  1  make  my  brother  to  offend,'*   i.  Cor.  viii.  9 — 13. 

There  are  many  who  feem  to  have  entirely  forgot  that 
this  precept  is  to  be  found  in  the  word  of  God,  and  dif- 
cover  not  the  leaft  lenfe  of  their  obligation  to  comply  with 
it.  If  by  any  plaufible  pretences,  they  imagine  they  can 
vindicate  their  conduct  with  regard  to  themfelves,  or  pal- 
liate it  with  excufes,  they  are  quite  unmindful  of  the  in- 
jury which  they  do  to  others.  I  fpeak  not  here  of  offend- 
ing, in  the  fenfe  in  which  that  word  is  commonly,  though 
unjuftly  taken,  as  difpleafmg  others.  Such  as  are  difplea- 
fed  with  the  conduft  of  thole  who  attend  the  theatre,  be- 
caufe  they  efteem  it  to  be  ftnful,  are  not  thereby  offended 
in  the  Scripture  fenfe  of  the  word,  except  i'o  far  as  fome 
few  of  them  are  provoked  to  unchriftian  refentment,  or 
induced  to  draw  raili  and  general  conclufions,  from  the 
indifcretion  of  particular  perfons,  to  the  prejudice  of 
Avhole  orders  of  men.  But  vaft  multitudes  are  truly  of- 
fended, or  made  to  offend,  as  they  are  led  into  a  pradice, 
which,  whatever  it  be  to  thofe  who  fet  the  example,  is 
undoubtedly  pernicious  to  them.  Is  it  poffible  to  deny, 
that  under  the  beft  regulation  of  the  theatre  that  can  rea- 
fonably  be  hoped  for,  to  great  numbers  it  mull  be  hurtful, 


7S  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

efpecially  as  it  is  enticing  to  all  ?  And,  if  that  be  but  aU 
lowed,  perfons  of  charadler  and  reputation  cannot  attend 
without  contributing  to  the  mifchief  that  is  done. 

Perhaps  it  will  be  objedled  to  this  application  of  the 
paffage  of  fcripture  cited  above,  that  the  particular  danger 
there  pointed  out  by  the  apoftle,  is  inducing  men  to  ven- 
ture upon  a  practice  with  a  doubting  confcience.  I  think 
it  highly  probable,  that  this  very  precife  cafe  happens  with 
many,  who  go  to  the  thea-tre  following  the  example  of 
others.  They  are  not  entirely  fatisfied  of  its  lawfulnefs, 
they  Hill  have  fome  inward  reludlance  of  mind,  but  ad- 
venture to  gratify  a  carnal  inclination,  being  emboldened 
by  the  example  of  thofe  who  are  c deemed  men  of  under- 
jdanding  and  worth.  But  even  where  their  implicit  trull 
is  fo  flrong  as  fully  to  fatisfy  them,  and  fet  their  minds  at 
cafe,  the  apoille's  argument  holds  with  equal  force,  if 
thereby  they  are  unavoidably  led  into  fm. 

This  will  probably  be  looked  upon  as  a  very  hard  law, 
•and  it  will  be  afked,  Is  a  man  then  never  to  do  any  thing 
that  he  has  reafon  to  believe  will  be  m^ifrnterpreted,  or 
abufed  bv  others  to  their  own  hurt  ?  The  hardnefs  of  the 
law  will  wholly  vanifh,  if  w^e  re ni ember,  that  it  is  confined 
to  things  indifferent  in  their  nature.  In  duties  binding 
of  their  own  nature,  we  are  under  no  obligation  to  pay 
any  regard  to  the  opinions  of  others,  or  the  confequences 
of  our  condu6l  upon  them.  But  in  things  originally  in- 
<.lifferent,  which  become  duties,  or  not,  precifely  on  ac- 
count of  their  confequences,  there  we  are  to  beware  of 
raaking  our  brother  to  offend.  The  fcripture  rule  is  this, 
Vv^e  muft  not  commit  the  lead  fm  under  pretence  of  the 
mofl  important  end,  though  it  were  to  favc  multitudes 
from  fins  incomparably  more  heinous.  But  in  matters  of 
indifference,  v/e  are  not  to  value  the  mofl:  beloved  cnjoy^ 
ment  fo  highly,  as  to  endanger  the  falvation  of  one  foul  by 
infnarlng  it  into  fin.  And  can  a  real  believer  have  the 
fmalleil  objection,  the  leafi  rifmg  thought,  againfl  this 
equitable  law  ?  Shall  we  value  any  preient  gratification 
equally,  nay,  ihall  we  once  put  it  in  the  balance  with  the 
fpiritual  interefi:  of  an  immortal  foul  ?  Now,  who  will  be 
fo  fhamelefs  as  to  affert,  that  attending  a  public  ftage  is  to 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage.  79 

him  a  neceffary  duty  ?  Or  what  defender  of  the  ftage  will 
be  fo  fanguine  as  to  affirm,  that  it  is,  or  that  he  hopes-  to 
fee  it  regulated  fo  as  to  be  fafe  or  profitable  to  every  mind  ? 
and  yet  till  this  is  the  cafe,  it  evidently  (lands  condemnec^ 
by  the  apoftolic  rule. 

Since  writing  the  above,  I  have  met  with  a  pamphlet  jull 
publifhed,  entitled,  The  Morality  of  Stage-playa  ferioully 
confidered.  This  author  convinces  me,  that  I  have  without 
fufficient  ground  fuppofed,  that  nobody  would  affirm  at- 
tending plays  to  be  a  neceffary  duty ;  for  he  has  either 
done  it,  or  gone  fo  very  near  it,  that  probably  the  next  au- 
thor upon  the  fame  fide  w^ill  do  it  in  plain  terms,  and  af- 
fert,  that  all  above  the  flation  of  tradefmen  who  do  not  go 
to  the  play-houfe,  are  living  in  the  habitual  negle(5l  of  their 
duty,  and  fmning  grievouily  againfl:  God.  Ifthislooka 
ridiculous,  it  is  none  of  my  fault,  for  I  fpeak  it  ferioully  ; 
and  it  is  a  much  more  natural  eonfequence  from  his  rea- 
foning,  than  any  he  has  drawn  from  it  himfelf. 

He  confiders  the  paffagc  of  the  apolUe  Paul,  and  fays 
(which  is  true)  that  it  holds  only  in  the  cafe  of  indifferent 
anions,  hut  that  we  are  to  "  do  good  in  the  face  of  preju- 
"  dice."  The  way  in  which  he  Ihews  it  to  be  doing  good, 
is  pretty  fmgular,  but  I  pafs  it  by  for  a  little,  and  obferve, 
that  probably  he  is  not  much  accuftomed  to  commenting 
on  fuch  pallages  of  fcripture ;  for  even  granting  his  un- 
reafonable  fuppofition,  doing  good  indefinitelv  is  not  op* 
pofed  to  indifferent  anions  in  this,  or  any  fuiiilar  cale. 
An  a6tion  that  is  good  in  itfelf,  is  indifferent  when  it  may 
be  enchanged  for  another ;  when  one  as  good,  or  better, 
may  be  put  in  its  place.  Nothing  is  oppofed  to  indiffer- 
ent actions  here,  but  what  is  indifpenfibly  necffeary,  and 
abfolutely  binding,  both  in  itfelf,  and  in  its  circunifiances. 
And  indeed,  though  he  is  afraid  at  firll  to  fay  fo,  he  feems 
to  carry  the  matter  that  length  at  laff,  making  his  coiiclu- 
fion  a  little  broader  than  the  premifes,  and  faying  In  the 
clofe  of  the  paragraph- upon  that  fubje8:,  ''  What  they  do 
"  to  this  purpofe,  either  in  o]:)poling  the  bad,  or  promoting 
**  the  good,  is  hatter  of  duty,  and  their  conduft  in  ic 
*'  is  not  to  be  regulated  by  the  opinion  of  any  perfon  who- 
**  is  pleafed  to  take  offence."* 


8o  ui  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

But  bow  fliall  we  refute  this  new  and  wonderful  doc- 
trine, of  its  being  neceffary  that  good  men  iliould  attend 
the  theatre  ?  I  cannot  think  of  a  better  w^ay  of  doing  it, 
than  tearing  off  fome  of  the  drapery  of  words,  with  which 
it  is  adorned  and  difguifed,  and  fetting  his  own  aflertions 
together  in  the  form  of  a  fyllogifm.  "  The  manager  of 
'^  every  theatre  mull  fui  this  entertainments  to  the  compa- 
*'  ny,  and  if  he  is  not  fupported  by  the  grave  and  fober, 
*••  he  muft  fuit  himfelf  to  the  licentious  and  profane.'^ — ■. — 
''  We  know  that  in  every  nation  there  mult  be  amufe- 
''  ments  and  public  entertainments,  and  the  ftage  has  al- 
"  ways  made  one  in  every  civilized  and  polifhed  nation. 

*'  We  eannot  hope  to  abolifli  it." Ergo,  According  to 

this  author,  it  is  the  duty  of  good  men  to  attend  the  ftage. 
But  I  leave  the  reader  to  judge.  Whether,  from  the  firft  of 
his  proportions,  which  is  a  certain  truth,  it  is  not  more 
juft  to  infer,  that  till  the  majority  of  thofe  who  attend  the 
ftage  are  good,  its  entertainment  cannot  be  fit  for  the 
Chriitian  ear;  and,  becaufethat  \ii\\  never  be,  no  Ghrif- 
tian  ought  to  go  there. 

And  what  a  fhameful  begging  of  the  queftion  is  his  fe- 
cond  propofition,  "  That  we  cannot  hope  to  abolilh  it." 
It  is  hard  to  tell  what  we  may  hope  for  in  this  age,  but  w^e 
inHit  that  it  ought  to  be  aboliflied.  Nay,  we  do  hope  to 
abolilh  it  juft  as  much  as  other  vices.  We  cannot  hope 
to  fee  the  time  v/hen  there  ftiall  be  no  gaming,  cheating, 
or  lying  ;  but  we  muft  ftill  preach  againft  all  fuch  vices, 
and  v/111  never  exhort  good  men  to  go  to  gaming-tables,  to 
perfuade  them  to  play  fair,  and  leffen  the  wickednefs  of 
the  praftice.  In  ihort,  it  is  a  full  refutation  of  the  ex- 
travagant afiertion  of  good  men  being  obliged,  as  matter 
of  duty,  to  go  to  the  theatre,  that  no  fuch  thing  is  com- 
manded in  the  word  of  God,  and  therefore  it  is  not,  and 
cannot  be  neceffary  to  any.*  And  fmce  it  is  evidently 
pernicious  to  great  numbers,  it  can  be  lawful  to  none. 

*  It  is  proper  here  to  remark,  how  natural  it  was  to  fuppole,  that 
the  argument  would  be  carried  this  length,  when  the  flage  came  to  be 
pleaded  for  as  ufeful  in  promoting  the  intereds  of  virtue.  And  there- 
tore  1  have  above  taken  notice,  that  thefe  prophets  rua  uiifent,  the 
propriety  of  which  remark  will  now  clearly  appear. 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage.  8^ 

It  would  give  Chriilians  a  much  more  jufl:,  as  well  as 
inore  extenfive  view  of  their  duty,  than  they  commonly 
have,  if  they  would  confider  their  relation  to,  and  ne- 
cefiary  influence  on  one  another.  All  their  vifible  ac-' 
tions  have  an  efFedl  upon  others  as  well  as  themfelves. 
Every  thing  we  fee  or  hear  makes  fome  impreffion  on  us, 
though  for  the  mo  ft  part  unperceived,  and  we  contribute 
every  moment,  to  form  each  other's  charadler.  What 
a  melancholy  view  then,  does  it  giv^e  us  of  the  ftate  of 
religion  among  us  at  prefent,  tha,t  when  piety  towards 
God  has  been  excluded  from  many  moral  fyftems,'and  the 
whole  of  virtue  confined  to  the  duties  of  focial  life,  the 
better  half  of  thefe  alfo  ihould  be  cut  off,  and  all  re- 
sard  to  the  fouls  of  others  for^fotten  or  derided.     Nothiu'T 

o  o  o 

indeed  is  left  but  a  few  expreffions  of  compliment,  a  few 
infignificant  offices  of  prefent  conveniency  ;  for  that 
which  fome  modern  refiners  have  dignified  with  the 
name  of  virtue,  is  nothing  elfe  but  polifhed  luxury,  a 
flattering  of  each  other  in  their  vices,  a  provocation  of 
each  other  to  fenfual  indulgence,  and  that  ^'  friendfliip 
"'  of  the  world,"  which  *''  is  enmity  with  God." 

I  would  now  aflc  the  reader,  after  perufing  the  preced- 
ing arguments  againft  the  ftage,  Whether  he  is  convinc- 
ed that  it  is  inconfiftent  with  the  character  of  a  Chriftian, 
or  not  ?  If  he  ihall  anfwer  in  the  negative,  if  he  has  fi:ill 
fome  remaining  argument  in   its  defence,  or  fome  me- 
thod, which  has  not  occurred  to  me,  to  take  off  the  force 
of  the  reafoning,  I  would  next  aflc,  Whether  it  does  not 
at  leaft  render  it  a  doubtful  point  ?  Whether,  joined  Vv  ith 
the  concurrent  teftimony  of  the  beft  and  wifeft  men  in  all 
ages  againft  it,  as  it  appeared  among  them,  and  the  im- 
purity and  corruption  that  fHll  attends  it,  there  is  not 
at  leaft  fome  ground  of   hefitation  ?  And,  if  {o  much 
be  but  allovv'Cd,   it  becomes  on  this  very  account  unlaw- 
ful to  every  Chriftian,  who  takes  the  word  of  God  for 
the  rule  of  his  condu6l.     There  clear' evidence  and  full 
perfuafion  is  required  before  an  aftion  can  be  lawfu],  and 
where  doubt  arifes  we  are  commanded  to  abftain.     ''  Hap- 
"  py  is  he  that  condemneth  not  himfelf  in  that    thing 
-•'  which  he  allow eth  :  and  he  that  doubteth  is  damne^, 
Vol.  IIL  L 


J2  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the      ^ 

"  if  he  eat ;  becaufe  he  eateth  not  of  faith,  for  vvhatfoevef 
"  is  not  of  faith  is  fm,"  Rom.  xiv.  22,  23. 

Hither:©  we  have  reafoned  againft  v/hat  is  called  a 
"  well-regulated  ftage.'^  That  is  to  fay,  inftead  of  at- 
tacking the  ccrruptions  which  now  adhere  to  it,  we  have 
endeavored  to  iliow.  that  from  the  purpofe  intended  by 
it,  from  the  prefent  llate,  and  general  tafle  of  mankind, 
and  the  nature  of  the  thing  itfeif,  a  public  theatre  is  not 
capable  of  fuch  a  regulation,  as  to  make  it  confiftent  with 
the  purity  of  tlie  Chriftian  profeffion  to  attend  or  fupport 
it.  if  any  complain,  that  part  of  the  above  reafoning  is 
too  abftraQed,  and  not  quite  level  to  the  apprehenfion  of 
every  reader,  let  it  be  remembered,  that  it  is  dire6led 
againft  an  idea  {0  abilrafted,  that  it  never  yet  did,  and 
from  what  we  have  feen,  there  is  reafon  to  believe  it  ne- 
ver can  exilr.  It  is  indeed  altogether  imaginary,  and  is 
drefi  up  by  every  author  who  defends  it,  in  the  manner 
and  form  that  bell  pleafes  himfelf ;  fo  that  it  is  infinitely 
lefs  difncult  to  refute  or  fliew  the  unlawfulnefs  of  a  well- 
regulated  fiage,   than  to  know  what  it  is. 

If  the  authors  on  this  fubjedl  would  enter  into  par- 
ticulars, and  give  us  a  lift  of  the  ufeful  and  inflru6\ive 
plays  with  which  our  flage  is  to  be  ferved  ;  lay  down  a 
plan  of  llridl  difcipline,  for  introducing  and  preferving 
purity  among  the  adlors  ;  and  fhew  us  by  w^hom  the  ma- 
nagers are  to  be  chofen,  and  their  fidelity  tried,  with  fome 
general  rules  for  their  conduct,  it  might  foon  be  deter- 
mined by  plain  and  fimple  arguments,  Whether  fuch  an 
entertainment  could  be  Mt^ly  permitted  to  a  Chriftian, 
or  not.  But,  when  they  give  us  no  farther  account  of  it, 
than  by  calling  it  a  ftage  properly  regulated,  they  in- 
volve themfelves  at  once  in  obfcurity,  as  to  the  very  fub- 
jeCl  of  their  difcourfe.  It  is  no  wonder  then,  that  they 
can  make  a  parade  with  a  few  glittering  phrafes,  as  pic- 
ture of  nature,  moral  ledlure,  amiable  character,  com- 
pafTion  for  virtue  in  diftrefs,  decency  of  the  drama,  and 
i'everal  others.  We  are  put  .to  a  ftand  what  to  fay  to  fuch 
things,  for  if  wc  fpeak  of  the  impure  flntiments  of  au- 
thors, or  the  wanton  gefticulations  of  nclors,  all  thefe  are 
immediately  given  up,  and  yet  the  fort  remains  as  entird 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage.  83 

tis  ever.  Therefore,  the  method  taken  in  this  treatife, 
with  all  the  dlfadvanta^es  that  attend  it,  was  looked  upon 
to  be  the  beft  and  the  cleared  that  could  be  ehofen  ;  to 
Ihow,  that  thofe  from  whom  a  reformation  of  the  llage 
mufl  come,  are  neither  able  nor  wiiiing  to  make  it ;  that 
the  very  materials  of  which  tkis  fine  fyfrem  is  to  confill 
are  naught,  and  thei*efore,  fo  mufl  the  produft  be  always 
found  upon  trial. 

It  may  indeed  be  matter  of  wonder,  that  among  the  many 
fchemes  and  projefts  daily  offered  to  the  confideration  of 
the  public,  there  has  never  been  any  attempt  to  point  oiit 
a  plaufible  way,  how  the  ilage  may  be  brought  into,  and 
kept  in  fuch  a  (late  of  regulation  as  to  be  conliilent  v/ith 
the  Chriftian  charadler.  There  have  been  attempts  to 
fliow  how  money  may  be  in  a  manner  created,  and  the 
national  debt  paid,  or  the  annual  fupplles  raifed,  Vv'ithout 
burdening  tiie  fubjecl.  Some,  who  have  nothing  of  their 
ovim,  have  endeavored  to  perfaade  the  refl  of  mankind, 
that  it  is  the  eafiefl  thing  ima<jinable  to  rrow  rich  in  a  few 
years,  with  little  labor,  by  the  improvemeTit  of  moor, 
mofs,  or  bees.  But  none,  fo  far  as  I  have  heard  or  feen, 
have  been  fo  bold  as  to  lay  down  a  dldin^:  plan  for  the  im^ 
provement  of  the  Ilage.  When  this  is  added  to  the  conii- 
derations  alrea,dv  mentioned,  it  v/ill  confirm  everv  im- 
partial  perfon  in  the  belief,  that  fuch  improvement  is  not 
to  be  expedled. 

I  hope  therefore,  there  may  now  be  fome  profpc6l  of 
faccefs,  in  warning  every  one  who  wiilies  to  be  eileemed 
a  difciple  of  Chrid  againil  the  flage,  as  it  hitherto  has  been, 
and  now  is.  Experience  is  of  {?Jl  others  the  fured  tcft  of 
the  tendency  of  any  pradice.  It  is  dill  more  to  be  de- 
pended on  than  the  mod  plaufibie  and  apparently  conclu- 
five  reafoning,  upon  what  hath  never  yet  been  tried.  Let 
us  then  confider,  what  hath  been  the  foirit  and  tendencv 
of  almod  the  whole  plays  v/hich  have  been  reprefented, 
from  time  to  time,  upon  the  dage.  Rave  not  love  and 
intrigue  been  their  perpetual  theme,  and  that  not  in  a 
common  and  orderly  way,  but  with  refidance  and  impe- 
diments, fuch  as  rivalfhip  and  jealoufy,  tlie  oppofition  of 
parents,  and    other  things  of  a  iimilar  nature,  that  th^^ 


A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

paiTions  may  be  ilrongly  excited,  and  that  the  force  of  love, 
and  its  triumph  over  every  obftacle,  may  be  fet  before  the 
audience  as  a  lefTon  ?  Is  not  the  polite  well-bred  man  the 
hero  of  fuch  plays,  a  chara^ler  formed  upon  the  maxims 
of  the  world,  and  chiefly  fuch  of  them  as  are  moft  con- 
trary to  the  gofpel  ?  Are  not  unchriftian  refentment  and 
falfe  honor  the  charadleriflics  of  every  fuch  perfon  ? 

What  is  the  character  of  a  clergyman  when  it  is  taken 
from  the  ftage  ?  If  the  perfon  introduced  is  fuppofed  to 
pofiefs  any  degree  of  ability,  hypocriiy  is  the  leading  part 
of  the  chara6ler.  But  for  the  moll  part,  aukwardnefs, 
ignorance,  dulnefs  and  pedantry  are  reprefented  as  infe- 
parable  from  men  of  that  function.  This  is  not  done  to 
correal  thefe  faults  when  appearing  in  fome  of  that  pro- 
feflion,  by  comparing  them  with  others  free  from  fuch  re- 
proachful defeats,  but  it  is  the  character  of  the  clergyman 
in  general,  who  is  commonly  introduced  fmgle,  and  com- 
pared with  the  men  acquainted  with  the  world,  very  lit- 
tle to  his  advantage.  The  truth  is,  it  feems  to  be  a 
maxim  w^ith  dramatic  authors,  to  llrip  men  of  every  pro- 
feffion  of  their  feveral  excellencies,  that  the  rake  may  be 
adorned  v/ith  the  fpoils  :  even  learning  is  commonly  af- 
cribed  to  him  ;  how  confidently  v/ith  truth  or  nature,  and 
confequently  v/ith  tafte  itfelf,  1  leave  the  reader  to  deter- 
mine. 

And  where  can  the  plays  be  found,  at  leaft  comedies, 
that  are  free  from  impurity,  either  dire^lly  or  by  allufion 
and  double-meaning  ?  It  is  amazing  to  think,  that  wo- 
men who  pretend  to  decency  and  reputation,  whofe 
brighteft  ornament  ought  to  be  modefty,  fhould  continue 
to  abet,  by  their  prefence,  fo  much  unchallity,  as  is  to 
be  found  in  the  theatre.  How  few  plays  are  at^ted  which 
a  modelt  woman  can  fee,  confiftently  with  decency  in 
every  part  ?  And  even  when  tlie  plays  are  more  referved 
themfelves,  they  are  fure  to  be  feafoned  with  fomething 
of  this  kind  in  the  prologue  or  epilogue,  the  mufic  be- 
Uveen  the  a6ls,  or  in  fomc  fcandalous  farce  with  which 
the  dlverfion  is  concluded.  The  power  of  cuflom  and 
fafhion  is  very  great,  in  making  people  blind  to  the  moft 
nianifeil  qualities  and  tendencies  of  things.     There  are 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage.  8  j; 

ladles  who  frequently  attend  the  ft  age,  who  if  they  were 
but  once  entertained  with  the  fame  images  in  a  private 
family,  with  which  they  are  often  prefented  there,  would 
rife  with  indiQ;nation,  and  reckon  their  reputation  ruined 
if  ever  they  fhould  return.  I  pretend  to  no  knowledge 
of  thefe  things,  but  from  printed  accounts,  and  the  pub- 
lic bills  of  what  plays  are  to  be  acted,  fometimes  by  the 
particular  defire  of  ladies  of  quality,  and  yet  may  fafe- 
ly  affirm,  that  no  v/omaii  of  reputation  (as  it  is  called 
in  the  world)  much  lefscf  piety,  who  has  been  ten  times 
in  a  play-houfe,  durft  repeat  in  company  all  that  fne  has 
heard  there.  With  wliat  confiRency  they  gravely  return 
to  the  fame  fchools  of  lewdnefs,  they  themfelves  belt 
knov/. 

It  ought  to  be  confidered,  particularly  wath  regard  to 
the  younger  of  both  fexes,  that,  in  the  theatre,  their 
minds  mull  infenfibly  acquire  an  inclination  to  romance 
and  extravagance,  and  be  unfitted  for  the  fober  and  feri- 
ous  affairs  of  common  life.  Common  or  little  things 
give  no  entertainment  upon  the  ftage,  except  when  they 
are  ridiculed.  There  mufl  always  be  fomething  grand, 
furprifmg  and  ftrlking.  In  com-e.dies,  when  all  obllacles 
are  removed,  and  the  marriage  is  agreed  on,  the  play 
is  done.  This  gives  the  mind  fuch  a  turn,  that  it  is  apt 
to  defpife  ordinary  bunnel's  as  m.ean,  or  deride  it  as  ridi- 
culous. Afk  a  merchant  whether  he  chufes  that  his  ap- 
prentices lliould  go  to  learn  exa^lnefs  and  frugality  from 
the  ftage.  Or,  whether  he  expedls  the  moll  pun6tual 
payments  from  thofe  w^hofe  generofity  is  ftrengthened 
there,  by  weeping  over  virtue  in  diilrefs.  Suppofe  a 
matron  comine  home  from  the  theatre  filled  vi^ith  the  ideas 
that  are  there  impreffed  upon  the  imagination,  how  low 
and  contemptible  do  all  the  affairs  of  her  family  appear, 
and  how  much  mufl  llie  be  difpofed,  (befides  the  time 
already  confumed)  to  forget  or  ini (guide  them  ? 

The  adors  themfelves  are  a  fignal  proof  of  this.  How 
feldom  does  it  happen,  if  ever,  that  any  of  them  live  fober 
and  regular  lives,  pay  their  debts  withhoneiiy,  or  manage 
their  affairs  widi  difcretion  ?  They  are  originally  men  of 
fjie  fame  compolition  with  others,  but  their  employment 


86  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

wholly  incapacitates  thein  for  prudence  and  regularity, 
gives  them  a  diffipation  of  mind  and  unftaidnefsof  fpirit, 
io  that  they  cannot  attend  to  the  affairs  of  life.  Nay,  if  I 
am  rightly  informed,  that  variety  of  charadlers  which  they 
put  on  in  the  thea,tre,  deprives  them  of  common  fcnfe, 
^nd  leaves  them  in  a  manner  no  character  at  all  of  their 
own.  It  is  confidently  faid,  by  thofe  w^ho  have  thought  it 
worth  w^hile  to  make  the  trial,  that  nothing  can  be  more 
iniipid  than  the  converfatio!\  of  a  player  on  any  other  fub- 
je£t  than  that  of  his  prcfefllon.  1  cannot  indeed  anfwer 
for  this  remark,  havin^r  it  only  bv  report,  and  never  ha- 
ving  exchanged  a  word  with  one  cf  that  employment  in  my 
life.  However,  if  it  holds,  a  ^-.tfjt^  cf  the  fame  efie6\ 
muftneceffarily  be  wrought  upon  thofe  who  atcend  the  ftage. 

But  folly  or  bad  management  is  not  all  that  is  to  be  laid 
to  the  charge  of  players  :  they  are  a'' moil  univerfally  vi- 
cious, and  of  fuch  abandotjed  cbara6^-ers,  as  might  juflly 
make  thofs  who  defend  the  itage,  afhamed  to  fpeak  of 
learning  virtue  under  fuch  iriafters.  Can  men  learn  pie- 
ty from  the  profane,  morti^caticn  from  the  lenfual,  or 
modefty  from  harlots  ?  And  will  any  deny  that  hired 
Hage-players  have  always,  and  that  dcfervedly,  borne  thefe 
characters  ?  JSIay,  though  it  cculd  be  fjppofed,  that  the 
fpeftators  received  no  hurt  themlelves,  how  is  it  poffible 
that  the  performances  of  fuch  perfons  can  be  attended,  or 
their  trade  encouraged,  without  fm  ? 

This  ihows  alfo,  that  attending  a  good  play,  even  fup- 
pofmg  there  were  a  few  unexceptionable,  cr.nnot  be  vin- 
dicated upon  Chriflian  principles.  It  is  pleaded  for  the 
new  tragedy*  lately  introduced  into  our  thea.tre,  that  it  is 
an  attempt  to  reform  the  flage,  and  make  it  more  innocent 
or  more  ufeful.  What  this  piece  is  in  itfelf,  nobody  can 
fay  with  certainty  till  it  be  pubiiflied,  though  the  account 
given  of  it  by  report  is  not  exceeding  favorable.  But  let 
it  be  ever  .fo  excellent  in  itfelf,  the  bringing  of  one  good 
play  upon  the  flage  is  altogether  infufficient,  nay,  is  a 
method  quite  improper  for  reforming  it.  An  author  of  a 
truly  good  piece  w^ould  rather  bury  it  in  oblivion,  thai^ 

*  DougUifs. 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage,  8/ 

lend  his  own  credit  and  that  of  his  work,  for  the  fupport 
of  thofe  that  are  bad.  A  Chrillian  can  never  attend  the 
liagc,  confidently  with  his  charader,  till  the  fcheme  in 
general  be  made  innocent  or  ufeful.  He  mufl  not  fia 
himfelf,  nor  contribute  to  the  fins  of  others,  in  a  certain 
degree,  becaufe,  unlcfs  he  do  fo,  they  will  fin  without  him 
in  a  higher  degree.  In  ihort,  fuch  an  attempt  can  be  con- 
fidered  in  no  other  light,  than  as  encouraging  a  pernicious 
practice,  and  fupporting  a  criminal  aflbciation.  The  bet- 
ter the  play  is,  or  the  better  the  characters  of  thofe  who  at- 
tend it  are,  the  greater  the  mifchief,  becaufe  the  ilronger 
the  temptation  to  others  who  obfcrve  it. 

There  is  one  inducement  to  attendance  on  the  ilage, 
which  hath  more  influence  than  all  the  arguments  Vvidi 
which  its  advocates  endeavor  to  color  over  the  pracllce ; 
that  it  is  become  a  part  of  faihionable  education.  Without 
it,  young  perfons  of  rank  think  they  cannot  have  i\\?X 
knowledge  of  the  world  which  is  neceffa-ry  to  their  accom- 
pliihment ;  that  they  will  be  kept  in  ruflicity  of  carriage, 
or  narrownefs  of  mind,  than  which  nothing  is  more  con- 
temptible in  the  eyes  of  the  reil  of  mankind  ;  that  they 
will  acquire  the  charafter  of  lliff  and  precife,  and  be  inca- 
pable of  joining  in  polite  converfation,  being  ignorant  of 
the  topics  upon  v/hich  it  chiefly  turns.  No  better  than 
thefe,  it  is  to  be  feared,  are  the  reafons  that  many  parents 
fufter  their  children  to  attend  this  and  other  faihionable 
diverfions.  How  then  fliall  we  remove  this  difficulty  ? 
Why  truly,  by  Hiying  with  the  apoftle  John,  to  fuch  as 
will  receive  it,  ''  All  that  is  in  the  world,  the  lull:  of  the 
"  the  fieih,  and  the  luft  of  the  eyes,  and  the  pride  of  life^ 
"  is  not  of  the  father,  but  is  or  the  world."  i  John.  il.  i6. 
It  is  certainly  the  greatefi:  madnefs  to  feek  the  knovvledge 
of  the  world  by  partaking  with  bad  men  in  their  fuis. 
Whatever  knowledge  cannot  ot'serwife  be  acquired,  is 
Ihameful,  and  not  honorable.  How  cruel  then  are  tjiofc 
parents,  who,  inflead  of  endeavoring  to  infpirc:;  their' 
children  witii  a  holy  and  manly  refolution,  of  detrino-  to 
appear  fmgular  in  an  adherence  to  their  duty,  futler  th-Ciu 
to  be  plunged  in  fm,  that  they  may  not  be  defeilive  iii 
politenefs.     Why  fliould  the  world,  or  any  th'.nj  kA[c^^ 


88  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

be  known,  but  in  order  to  our  fpiritual  improvement  ?* 
Therefore,  all  that  is  truly  valuable,  muft,  by  the  very 
fuppoiition,  be  innocently  learned,  and  to  bear  with  a 
noble  diidain  the  feoffs  of  more  experienced  fmners  is 
the  greateft  glory. 

Like  to  the  above  is  another  ar^rument  in  favor  of  the 

o 

ftage,  that  men  muft  have  amufements,  and  that  the  ftage 
is  much  better  than  many  others,  v/hich  Vv^ould  probably 
be  put  in  its  pl?cce.  It  is  faid,  that  of  all  the  time  fpent 
by  the  faihionable  part  of  the  world,  at  prefent,  in  diver- 
iions,  that  v/hich  they  allot  to  the  ftage  is  moft  innocently, 
or  leaft  hurtfully  employed.  Is  there  any  more  in  this, 
than  a  declaration  of  the  fliameful  luxury  and  degeneracy 
of  the  prelbnt  age,  an  alarming  token  of  approaching 
judgment  ?  Do  not  fuch  perfons  know,  that  all  ferlous 
Chriftians  condemn  every  one  of  thefe  criminal  plea- 
fures,  and  will  never  allow  it  as  any  advantage  to  ex- 
change one  of  them  for  another.  But  it  is  lefs  furprifmg 
to  hear  fuch  palliative  arguments  ufed  in  converfation  : 
an  author  above  referred  to  has  been  bold  enough,  in 
print,  to  reafon  in  the  fome  way.  He  fays,  "  That  no 
"  abufe  was  ever  admitted  on  any  ftage,  but  might  pa,fs 
*^  for  perfect  decency,  when  compared  to  what  may  have 

*  This  is  not  meant  to  condemn  all  human  accomplifhmeiits,  ^vhich 
have  not  an  immediate  reference  to  our  relig'ious  improvement,  but  to 
rlHrm,  that  they  ought  to  be  kept  in  a  jufl:  iubordination  and  lublervi- 
cncy,  to  the  great  and  chief  end  of  man.  "Jliere  are,  no  doubt,  a  great 
number  of  arts,  both  iifeful  and  ornamental,  which  have  other  imme- 
diate eire^Tts,  than  to  make  men  holy  ;  and  becaufe  they  are,  by  the 
greateft  part  of  the  ''yvorld,  abufed  to  the  worR  of  purpofes,  they  are 
confidered  as  having  no  conneclien  with  religion  at  all.  But  this  is  a 
mifiake  ;  for  a  good  man  will  be  directed  in  the  choice  and  application 
of  all  fuchartSj  by  the  general  and  leading  purpoie  of  his  life.  And  as 
he  who  eats  for  no  other  or  higher  end  thanpleafing  his  palate,  is  juHly 
condemned  as  a  m.ean  and  groveling  feniualiii,  fo,  whoever  has  no  far- 
ther view  in  his  education  andaccompliilirnent,  than  to  ihine  and  make 
a  figure  in  the  fafliionable  world,  does  p.ot  in  tliat  relpecft  zCi  the  part 
of  a  Chtidian.  In  fliort,  thefe  arts  are  among  the  number  of  indiffer- 
ent thin;;s,  which  fliould  be  fupremely  and  ulii-fnatcly  diredled  to  the; 
glory  of  God,  When  they  are  not  capable  of  this,  either  immediately 
or  remotely,  much  more  when  they  arc  contraty  to  it,  they  mufl:  he 
(ionclevnncd. 


Nature  mid  Effects  of  the  Stage.  89 

•*  been  often  heard  of,  at  a  gofiipping,  a  merry  making, 
'*  or  a  meeting  of  young  fellows*."  Again,  after  tell- 
ing us  that  we  cannot  hope  to  abolifh  the  Piage,  he  fays, 
"  And  if  we  could,  we  fliould  only  make  way  for  the 
"  return  of  drunkennefs,  gaming,  and  rude  cabals,  which 
'*  the  more  decent  converfation  and  manners  of  civilized 
"  times  have  in  a  great  manner  abolifned."  I  lay  hold 
of  this  gentleman's  reafoning,  who  pleads  for  civilizing 
the  world,  and  not  fanclifyng  it,  as  a  confeiTion  of  the 
weaknefs  of  his  caufe,  and  a  confirmation  of  all  the  argu- 
ments produced  in  this  treatife  againll  the  ilage.  For,  if 
he  meant  to  fhow,  that  ilage-plays  were  agreeable  to  the 
purity  of  the  gofpel,  that  drunkennefs  is  worfe  (if  indeed 
it  be  fo)  could,  be  no  evidence  of  it  at  all.  He  miuil  there- 
fore, if  he  fpeaks  to  any  purpofe,  plead  for  the  toleration 
of  fmful  diverfions,  becaufe  they  are  comparatively  lefs 
fmful  than  others ;  and  if  that  is  the  cafe,  I  detelt  his  prin- 
ciples, and  fo  will  every  Chriftian. 

Having  mentioned  this  author,  perhaps  it  may  be  ex- 
pelled, that  I  would  take  fome  notice  of  the  other  argu- 
nrents  brought  by  him  in  defence  of  the  Ilage.  It  is  not 
eafy  either  to  enumerate  or  comprehend  them,  they  arc 
thrown  together  in  fuch  confufion,  and  expreifed  in  fuch 
vague  and  general  terms.  He  fays  (page  3.)  "  The  peo- 
*'  pie  of  this  ifland  are  not  inferior  to  thofe  of  any  other 
"  age  or  country  whatever.  This  will  be  a  prefumption, 
"  that  if  plays  are  a  poifon,  it  is  at  leaft  but  flow  in  its 
'^  operation."  And,  p.  17.  "  We  may  venture  to  aflc, 
"  Whether  knovvdedge,  whether  induftry  and  commerce 
have  declined  in  this  city  (Edinburgh)  iince  the  play- 
houfe  v/as  firft  opened  here.  It  will  be  owned,  that 
they  have  rather  increafed."  I  v/ould  venture  to  afe. 
What  fort  of  an  argument  this  is,  and.  what  follows  from 
it,  though  both  his  alTertions  v/ere  allowed  to  be  true,  which 
yet  may  eafily  be  in  many  refpe61s  controverted.  If  the 
Ilage,  as  he  would  infmuate,  be  the  caufe  of  ourT^mprove- 
ment,  then  is  his  argument  felf-contradiclory,  for  we 
ought  to  be  greatly  inferior  in  purity  to  the  people  of 
other  countries,    v/ho  have  enjoyed  tlie  reforming  Ilage 

*  M(:raliry  oi  St-ige  Plays  icrioiifly  C'-v;rri<]erevl.  p.  19. 

Vol.  Ill,  M 


u 


90  A  Serious  Inquiry  itito  the 

much  longer,  which  is  contrary  to  his  fuppofition.  The 
truth  is,  the  frage  is  not  the  caufe,  but  the  confequence  of 
wealth ;  and  it  is  neither  the  caufe  nor  confequence  of 
gocdnefs  or  knowledge,  except  fo  far  as  it  certainly  im- 
plies more  knowledge  than  uncultivated  favages  poffefs, 
and  is  only  to  be  found  in  what  this  author  calls  civili- 
zed nations.  YLow  eafy  were  it  for  me  to  name  feveral 
vices  unknown  to  barbarians,  wdiich  prevail  in  places  of 
tade  and  poliilied  manners.  Should  I  at  the  fame  time 
infmuate,  that  thefe  vices  have  contributed  to  improve 
us  in  knowledge  and  tafte,  it  would  be  juft  fuch  an  argu- 
ment  as  is  here  ufe  in  favor  of  the  flage,  and  the  plain 
meaning  of  both  is,  the  abufe  of  knowledge  is  the  caufe 
of  it. 

It  were  worth  while  to  confider  a  little  our  improve- 
ments in  knowledge  in  this  age,  which  are  often  the 
boail  of  not  the  moll  knowing  writers.  Perhaps  it  may 
be  allowed,  that  there  is  now  in  the  w^orld  a  good  deal 
of  knowledge  of  different  kinds,  but  it  is  plain  we  owe  it 
to  the  labors  of  our  predeceflbrs,  and  not  our  own.  And 
therefore,  it  is  to  be  feared,  we  may  ^improve  it  no  better 
than  many  young  men  do,  who  come  to  the  eafy  poffef- 
fion  of  wealth  of  their  fathers*  getting.  They  neither 
know  the  worth  nor  the  ufe  of  it,  but  fquander  it  idly 
av/ay,  in  the  moll  unprofitable  or  hurtful  purfuits.  It  is 
doubtlefs,  an  eafy  thing  at  prefent,  to  acquire  a  fuperficial 
knowledge,  from  magazines,  reviews,  dictionaries,  and 
other  helps  to  the  llothful  ftudent.  He  is  now  able,  at 
a  very  fmall  expence,  to  join  the  beau  and  the  fcholar, 
and  triumphs  in  the  tafie  of  this  enlightened  age,  of 
which  he  hath  the  comfort  to  refledt,  that  he  himfelf 
makes  a  part.  But,  for  our  mortification,  let  us  recoi- 
led, that  as  feveral  writers  have  obferved,  human  things 
never  continue  long  at  a  fcand.  There  is  commonly  a 
revolution  of  knowledge  and  learning,  as  of  riches  and 
power.  For  as  flates  grow  up  from  poverty  to  induflry, 
wealth  and  power ;  fo,  from  thefe  they  proceed  to  luxury 
and  vice;  and  by  them  are  brought  back  to  poverty  and 
fubjedtion.  In  the  fame  manner,  with  refpedl:  to  learn- 
ing, men  rife  from  ignorance  to  application  ;  from  appli- 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage.  91 

cation  to  knowledge  ;  this  ripens  into  tafte  and  jadgment ; 
then,  from  a  defire  of  diilinguilliing  themfelves,  they  fu- 
peradd  affected  ornaments,  become  more  fancifal  than 
Iblid ;  their  tafle  corrupts  with  their  manners,  and  they 
fall  back  into  the  gulph  of  ignorance.  The  feveral  fteps 
of  thefe  gradations  commonly  correfpond  ;  and  if  we  de- 
fire  to  know  in  what  period  of  e^ich,  we  of  this  nation  are 
at  prefent,  it  is  probable,  we  are  in  the  age  of  luxury,  as 
to  the  firft,  and  in  the  eve  at  leafl  of  a  falfe  and  frothy  tailc 
as  to  learning ;  and  may  therefore  fear,  that  as  a  late  very 
elegant  writer  exprefies  it,  We  fhail  relapfe  fail  into  bar- 
barifra. 

Another  argument  produced  by  this  author,  is,  that  tho 
apoftle  Paul,  in  preaching  at  Atliens,  quotes  a  fentence 
from  one  of  the  Greek  poets,  and,  in  writing  to  the  Co- 
rinthians, has  inferted  into  the  facred  text  a  line  from  a 
Greek  play,  which  now  fubfills. — "  This  (he  fays)  is  fuf- 
-''  ficient  to  connedl  the  defence  of  plays  with  the  honor  of 
"  fcripture  itfelf.''     The  fact  is  not  denied,  though  he  has 
given  but  a  poor  fpecimen  of  the  knowledge  of  this  age, 
by  miftaking,  in  the  firft  of  thefe  remarks,  the  exprefnon 
quoted  by  the  apoftle  ;  for  this  fentence,  *'  In  him  we  live, 
**  and  move,  and  have  our  being,''  which,  he  fays,  is  a 
very  fublime  expreflion,  and  beautifully  applied  by  the 
apoftle,  w^as  not  cited  from  the  poet,  but  the  follovving,  '-^  For 
"  we  are  alfo  his  offspring."   But  fuppofmg  he  had  (as  he 
eafily  might)  have  hit  upon  the  true  citation,  what  follows 
from  it  t     Did  ever  any  body  affirm,  that  no  poet  could 
write,  or  no  player  could  fpeak  any  thing  that  was  true  ? 
And  what  is  to  hinder  an  inlpired  writer  from  judging 
them  out  of  their  own  mouths  ?     What  concern  has  this 
with  the  ftage  ?     If  it  implies  any  defence  of  the  ilage  ia 
general,  it  muft  implv  a  itrcnger  defence  cf  the  particular 
play  and  poem,  from  which  the  citations  are  taken.    Novv^, 
I  dare  fay,  neither  this  author,   nor  any  Other  will  aifert, 
that  thefe  are  in  all  refpeccs  agreeable  to  the  Ghriftian  cha- 
racler.     Thefe  citations  do  no  other  w^ay  conne6l  the  de- 
fence of  the  ftage  with  the  honor  of  fcripture,  than  a  rni- 
nifter's  citing,  in  v/riting  or  difcourfe,  a  paflage  from  Ho* 
race'  or  Juvenal,  would  conned  the  defence  of  all  the  ob^ 


92  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the 

fcenity^  that  is  to  be  found  in  the  reft  of  their  works,  with 
the  honor  of  preaching. 

The  only  thing  further  in  this  efiay  not  obviated  in 
the  preceding  difcourfe,  is  what  he  fays  on  the  fubje6l 
of  the  poor.  "  That  the  expence  laid  out  on  the  ftage 
"  does  not  hinder  the  charitable  fupply  of  the  poor,  and 
"  that  they  fuffer  no  lofs  by  it,  for  it  comes  at  lafl  into 
"  the  hands  of  the  poor,  and  is  paid  as  the  price  of  their 
''  labor. — Every  player  mull  be  maintained,  clothed 
'^  and  lodged."  It  does  not  fuit  with  my  prefent  pur- 
pofe  to  enter  into  controverfral  altercation,  or  to  treat 
this  author  with  that  feverity  he  deferves  ;  and  therefore 
J  fnall  only  fay,  that  his  reafoning  upon  this  fubjeft  is 
the  very  iknie  from  Avhich  Dodlor  Mandeville  draws  this 
abfurd  and  hated  confequence,  ''  Private  vices  are  pub^ 
*'  lie  benefits." 

The  truth  is,  a  ferious  perfon  can  fcarce  have  a 
ilronger  evidence  of  the  immorality  of  the  ftage,  than 
the  perufal  of  thefe  little  pieces  of  fatire,  which  have  been 
pubhfned,  in  fo  great  a  variety,  againft  the  preft^ytery  of 
Edinburgh,  within  thefe  few  weeks,  becaufe  of  their  pub- 
lic admonition  againft  it.  They  oiler  no  other  defence, 
but  deriding  the  preaching  of  the  gofpel,  blafphemoufly 
comparing  the  pulpit  with  the  ftage,  and  recrimination 
upon  fome  who  are  fuppofed  to  live  inconftftently  with 
their  chara61er.  It  is  not  worth  while  to  fpend  three 
words  in  determining  whether  drunkennefs,  deceit  and 
hypocrify  are  worfe  than  the  ftage  or  not ;  but  if  that  is 
•  the  ftrongeft  argument  that  can  be  offered  in  its  fupport, 
wo  to  all  thofe  v/ho  attend  it.  The  new  reformed  trage- 
dy has  indeed  been  very  unkicky  in  its  advocates. 
There  is  an  old  faying,  that  a  man  is  known  by  his  com^- 
panj^  If  this  be  true  alfo  of  a  play,  which  one  would 
think  it  ftiould,  as  it  muft  be  chiefly  to  the  tafte  of  con- 
genial minds,  by  thofe  who  have  appeared  in  defence  of 
Douglafs,  it  is  a  work  of  very  little  merit. 

It  may  be  expedted,  that,  having  brought  this  perfor- 
mance on  the  ^it\(],  I  ftiouid  add  fome  further  refledlions, 
upon  the  aggravated  ftn  of  Minifters  v/riting  plays,  or 
attending  the  ftage.  But  though  it  is  a  very  plain  point, 
and  indeed  becaufe  it  is  io  it  would  draw  out  this  trea-: 


Nature  and  Effects  of  the  Stage,  93 

tife  to  an  immoderate  length.  If  any  man  makes  a 
queftion  of  this,  he  miifl  be  wholly  ignorant  of  the  na- 
ture and  importance  of  the  miniflerial  charaiSter  and  office. 
Thefe  therefore  it  would  be  neceffary  to  open  diftinclly, 
and  to  confider  the  folemn  charge  given  to  minifters  in 
Scripture,  to  watch  over  the  fouls  of  their  people,  as 
thofe  ''  who  mull  give  an  account  unto  God  ;"  to  give 
themfelves  wholly  to  their  duty,  fmce  fome  of  thofe  com- 
mitted to  them  are  from  day  to  day,  entering  on  an  un- 
changeable flate,  v/hofe  blood,  v/hen  they  die  uncon- 
verted, Ihall  be  required  at  the  hand  of  the  unfaithful  pa.f- 
tor.  None  can  entertain  the  leail  doubt  upon  this  fub- 
je6l,  who  believe  the  teftimony  of  Mofes  and  the  pro- 
phets, of  Chrift  and  his  apoilles,  and,  if  they  believe 
not  their  writings,  neither  will  they  believe  my  words. 

Infread  therefore  of  endeavoring  to  prove,  I  wiil  make 
bold  to  affirm,  that  v/riting  plays  is  an  employment  whol- 
ly foreign  to  the  office,  and  attending  theatrical  reprefen- 
tations  an  entertainment  unbecomino-  the  character  of  a 
minifter  of  Chriil :  And  miuft  not  both,  or  either  oi  them, 
be  a  facrilegious  abftradtion  of  that  time  and  pains,  which 
ought  to  have  been  laid  out  for  the  benefit  of  his  people  ? 
Is  it  not  alfo  flying  in  the  face  of  a  clear  and  i-te  act  of 
parliament,  agreeably  to  Vv'hich  the  lords  of  council  and 
feffion  not  long  ago  found  the  ftage  contrary  to  law  in 
this  country  ?  And  though  the  law  is  eluded,  and  the 
penalty  evaded,  by  advertifing  a  concert,  after  which  will 
be  performed,  gratis,  a  tragedy,  8;c.  Yet  furely,  the 
world  in  judging  of  characters,  or  a  church  court  in 
judging  of  the  conducl  of  its  members,  will  pay  no  re- 
gard to  the  poor  and  fhameful  evafion.  Can  we  then 
think  of  this  audacious  attempt  at  the  prefent  juncture, 
without  applying  to  ourfclves  the  words  of  Ifaiah,  "  And 
*'  in  that  day  did  the  Lord  God  of  holts  call  to  weeping, 
''  and  to  mourning,  and  to  baldnefs,  and  to  girding  with 
"  fackcloth,  and  beliold  joy  and  giadnefs,  flaying  oxen 
"  and  killing  flieep,  eating  liefli  and  drinking  v/ine  ;  let 
''  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  v/e  die.  And  it  was 
■ '  revealed  in  mine  ears  by  the  Lord  of  hofts,  furely  this 
"  iniquity  ihall  not  be  purged  from  you  till  3'ou  die,  faith 
^' the  Lord  of  hof.s,"  Ifa.  xxii.  12,   13,  14. 


I     94     3 


A 


LETTER 


RESPECTING 


PLAT    ACTORS. 


r 


Sir, 

^HERE  appeared  in  the  national  Gazette  of  the 
— of  March  laft,  a  pafiage  faid  to  be  taken 
from  a  French  publication,  which  no  doubt  the  Editor  of 
that  Gazette  thought  worthy  of  the  public  eye.  It  was  to 
the  following  purpofe  : — It  mufi:  appear  very  furprifmg  that 
even  down  to  the  expiration  of  the  French  Monarchy, 
there  was  a  character  of  difgra.ce  affixed  to  the  profeffion 
of  a  player,  efpecially  when  compared  to  the  kindred  pro- 
fellions  of  preacher  or  pleader.  Although  the  talents  ne- 
celTary  to  thefe  occupations  are  as  much  inferior  to  thofe  of 
a  good  commedian,  as  the  talents  of  a  drug  pounding  a- 
pothecary  to  thofe  of  a  regular  bred  phyfician,  and  that 
it  is  hoped  that  the  recovery  of  the  charadler  due  to  thea- 
trical merit,  will  contribute  not  a  little  to  the  improve- 
ment of  future  manners. 

I  have  long  expe6ted  to  fee  fome  remarks  publifhed  on 
this  fmgular  fentiment,  but,  either  nobody  has  thought  it 
worthy  of  their  attention,  or  the  ilriclures  have  not  fallen 
in  my  way  ;  therefore  as  this  fubjedl  is  not  one  of  thofe 
that  lofe  their  importance,  or  propriety  by  a  fhort  lapfe  of 
time  ;  and  as,  on  the  contrary,  the  prefent  controverfy  in 
Philadelphia,  on  the  application  to  the  legiflature  againll 
the  flage,  feems  to  render  it  peculiarly  feafonable,  I  beg 
tlie  favor  of  you  to  publifli  the  following  obfervations  : 


Letter  on  Play- Actors.  95 

The  author  of  the  paragraph  publiflied  by  Mr.  Fre- 
neau,  though  a  warm  advocate  for  the  theatre,  vouches  for 
me  as  to  tb.e  fa6l  that  there  has  been  a  character  of  dif- 
p^race  for  many  ages,  impreifed  upon  the  theatrical  profef- 
fion.  Though  he  had  not  affirmed  it,  the  fa6l  is  undoubt- 
edly certain,  that  the  theatrical  profeffion  has  had  a  difgrace 
affixed  to  it  from  the  earlieft  times,  and  in  all  the  coun- 
tries where  theatres  have  been  in  ufe. 

Public  adlors  on  the  ftage  were  counted  infamous  by 
the  Roman  law,  they  were  excommunicated  by  the  church 
from  the  time  of  the  introduction  of  chriftianity  into  the 
Roman  empire,  even  to  the  time  mentioned  by  the  author 
of  the  above  paragraph,  the  expiration  of  the  French  mo- 
narchy. 

If  this  had  been  only  occafional,  local  and  temporary, 
It  might  have  been  confidered  as  owing  to  fome  of  thofe 
accidental,  but,  tranfient  caufes  which  fometimes  produc- " 
remarkable  eiTeCls  for  a  little  tin"ie,  and  then  wholly  ceafe. 
But  fo  uniform  and  fo  general  an  effe6l  mufl  have  fome 
adequate  and  permanent  caufe  or  caufes  to  produce  it — - 
which  is  to  be  the  fubje(Sl  of  the  prefent  inquiry. 

I  have  only  to  add  as  to  the  fad:,  that  even  the  prefent 
living,  warmefl:  and  moil  zealous  advocates  for  the  llage 
have  not  been  able  to  efface  this  impreffion  from  their  own 
minds.  There  does  not  exifl  in  Philadelphia,  or  any 
where  elfe  any  perfon  of  rank  or  character,  who  would 
be  pleafed  with  an  alliance  with  the  ftage,  either  by  their 
fon's  marriage  with  an  adlrefs,  or  by  tlieir  daughters  be- 
ing married  to  a6lors. 

Before  entering  into  the  principal  part  of  the  fr.bje(?t,  it 
will  be  neceflary  that  the  reader  Ihould  give  particular  at- 
tention to  the  following  remark.  The  infamy  which  has 
attended  the  profeffion  of  players  belongs  wholly  to  the 
profeffion  itfelf,  and  not  to  the  perfons,  or  rather  circum- 
llances  by  which  they  may  be  diilinguifned.  Players 
when  they  are  feen  on  the  ftage,  are  dreffed  in  the  fineft 
habits,  affume  the  manners,  and  fpeak  the  language  of 
kings  and  queens,  princes  and  princeffes,  heroes  and  he- 
rohies,  which  is  a  very  different  fituation  from  tliofe  who 
belong  to  what  are   fometimes  called  the  lower  dalles  of 


()6  Letter  on  Play- Actors, 

life.  Thofe  v/ho  follow  the  mechanic  arts  are  fometimes 
confidered  as  in  a  ftate  of  difgrace,  bat  it  is  wholly  owing 
not  to  their  prefeiTion,  but  to  the  poverty  and  want  of 
education  of  a  great  majority  of  them.  The  profeffion  is 
lawful,  laudable,  ufefai  and  necelTary.  Let  me  fuppofe 
a  blackfmith,  a  weaver,  a  fhoemaker,  a  carpenter,  or 
any  other  of  the  mechanic  profeflions,  and  fuppofe  that, 
by  activity  and  induftry  he  becomes  wealthy,  and  inftead 
of  a  work-fliop,  fets  up  a  factory  ;  if  he  becomes  rich  ear- 
ly enough  in  life,  to  give  his  children  a  good  educa.tion 
and  a  handfome  fortune,  tell  me  who  is  the  perfon,  ^vho 
would  refufe  his  alliance  or  be  afnamed  of  his  connexion  ? 
Is  it  not  quite  otherwife  as  to  pl?.yers,  with  whom  though 
eminent  in  their  profeffion,  as  Moliere  and  Madamoifelle 
Clairon  in  France,  Garrick,  Mrs.  Siddons  and  Mrs.  Bel- 
lamy in  England,  I  believe  there  is  hardly  any  example 
of  any  perfon  of  decent  llation,  or  of  middling  fortune 
who  woLdd  be  ambitious  of  a  family  connexion.  There- 
fore, I  repeat  it,  and  defire  it  may  be  kept  in  view  in  the 
whole  of  this  reafoning,  that  the  difgrace  imprelfed  upon 
the  character  of  players  belongs  to  the  profeffion,  and 
not  to  the  perfon.  Na.y,  though  according  to  the  old  faying 
exceptio  firmat  regulum,  there  fliculd  be  an  inflance  or 
two  picked  up  in  diftant  ages,  in  which  fuperlative  merit, 
overcame  the  general  prepolfeffion,  fuch  as  Rofcius  in 
E,ome,  Moliere  in  France,  and  Shake fpeare  in  England, 
this  would  not  hinder  the  certainty  or  importance  of  the 
rem.ark  in  general  of  the  opprobium  that  follows  the  pro- 
feffion. I  now  proceed  to  the  reafons  on  which  the  fact  is 
founded.  Firft,  allpowersand  talents  whatever,  though 
excellent  in  themfelves,  when  they  are  applied  to  the  fm- 
gle  purpofe  of  anfwering  the  idle,  vain,  or  vicious  part 
of  fociety  become  contemptible. 

There  is  not  upon  record  among  the  fayings  of  bold 
men,  one  more  remarkable  than  that  of  Sobrius,  the  tri- 
bune, to  l\'ero  the  P^oman  emperor,  when  allied  by  the 
emperor,  why  he  who  was  one  of  his  perfonal  guards,  had 
confpired  againfl  him  ?  He  anfv/ered,  I  loved  you  as 
m.ucli  as  any  man,  as  long  as  you  deferved  to  be  loved, 
but  1  began  to  hate  vou  when  after  the   murder  of  vour 


Letter  on  Play-Actors^  9^  ;^ 

wife  and  mother,  you  become  a  charioteer,  a  comedian 
and  a  buffoon.  I  am  fenfible  that  in  this  reafoning  I 
confider  theatrical  pieces  properly  fpeaking  as  intended 
for  amufement.  I  am  not  hov/ever  ignorant  that  fome 
have  ^dignified  them  with  the  character  of  fchxools  or  It^- 
fons  of  morality. 

But  as  they  have  been  generally  called,  and  are  ftill 
called  by  the  writers  in  the  Philadelphia  News-papers, 
amusements^  fo  I  am  confident  every  bodv  muft  perceive 
that  this  was  their  original  purpofe,  and  will  be  their  ca- 
pital and  their  principle  effect.  It  leems  to  me  of  con- 
Tequence  in  this  argument  to  obferve,  that  what  is  true. 
of  theatrical  exhibitions  is  true  of  every  other  effetSl  of 
human  genius  or  art,  when  applied  to  the  purpofes  of 
amufement  and  folly  they  become  contemptible.  Of 
all  external  accompliflimcnts,  there  is  none  that  has  been 
for  many  ages  held  in  greater  efteem  than  good  horie- 
manfhip.  It  has  been  faid  that  the  human  form  never 
appears  with  greater  dignity  than  when  a  liandibmc  man 
appears  on  horfeback,  with  proper  and  elegant  manage- 
ment of  that  noble  creature.  Yet  wdien  men  employ  them- 
felves  in  fmgular  and  whimfical  feats,  ftanding  inftead  of 
riding  upon  a  horfe  at  full  gallop,  or  upon  tv/o  horfcs  at 
once,  or  other  feats  of  the  like  nature,  in  order  to  amuf^i 
the  vain,  and  gather  money  from  the  foolifh,  'it  im/medi- 
ately  appears  contemptible.  i\nd  for  w.y  own  part,  I 
would  no  more  hold  communication  with  a  mafier  of  the 
circus  than  a  manager  of  the  theatre.  And  I  fhould  be 
forry  to  be  thought  to  have  any  intimac}''  with  either  the 
one  or  the  other. 

The  general  obfervation  which  I  have  made,  applies  to 
all  human  iirts,  of  every  kind  and  clafs.  Mufic  has  al- 
ways been  efteemed  one  of  the  fineft  arts,  and  was  ori- 
ginally ufed  in  the  worfhip  of  God,  and  the  praife  of  he- 
roes. Yet  when  mufic  is  applied  to  the  purpofes  of 
amufement  only,  it  becomes  wholly  contemptible.  And 
I  believe  the  public  performers,  from  the  men.-fmgcrs  and 
women-fingers  oF  Solomon,  to  the  fmgers  in  the  prefent 
theatres,  are  confidered  as  in  a  diforactfid  calling.     I  am 

Vol.  III.  N 


9.8  Letter  on  PI  ay -Ac  tors. 

happy  to  have  even  lo.xl  Cheflerfield  on  politenefs,  for  my  - 
afTillant  in  this  caufe  :  for  though  he  acknowledges  mufiC 
to  be  one  of  the  fine  arts.,  yet  he  thinks  to  be  too  great  a 
connoiiTeiir,  and  to  be  always  fiddling  and  playing,  is  not 
confident  with  the  character  of  a  gentleman. 

In  the  fecond  place,  as  players  have  been  generally  per- 
fons  of  ioofe  mora.ls,  fo  dieir  employment  diredlly  leads  to 
the  corruption  of  the  heztrt.  It  is  an  allowed  principle, 
among  critics,  that  no  human  paiTion  or  character,  can  be 
well  repi'efented,  unlefs  it  be  felt :  this  they  call  entering 
into  the  Ipirit  of  the  part.  Now,  I  fuppofe  the  following 
piiiiofophical  remark  is  equally  certain,  that  every  human 
paiTion,  efpecially  when  ftrongly  felt,  gives  a  certain  mo- 
diiica-tion  to  the  blood  and  fpirits,  and  makes  the  whole 
frame  more  fufccptible  of  its  return.  Therefore,  whoever 
has  juftly  and  ilrongly  a6ted  human  paffions,  that  are  vi- 
cious, will  be  more  prone  to  thefe  fame  paffions  ;  and  in- 
deed, with  refpe6l  to  the  whole  character,  they  will  foon 
be  in  reality,  what  they  have  fo  often  feemed  to  be. 

This  applies  to  the  whole  extent  of  theatrical  reprefen- 
tation.  Whoever  has  a6led  the  part  of  a  proud  or  re- 
vengeful perfon,  I  fliould  not  like  to  fall  in  his  way,  when 
offended ;  and  if  any  man  has  often  a(^ed  the  part  of  a 
rogue  or  deceiver,  I  fhould  not  be  wilHng  to  truft  him 
v/ith  my  money.  It  may  either  be  added,  as  another  re- 
mark, or  confidered  as  a  further  illufb^ation  of  the  one  laft 
made,  that  players,  by  fo  frequently  appearing  in  an  affu- 
med  charafter,  lofe  all  character  of  their  own.  Nothing, 
fays  an  eminent  and  learned  writer,  ''  is  more  awkward 
'*  and  infipid,  than  a  player,  out  of  the  line  of  his  own 
"  profeilion."  And  indeed  what  mufl  that  memory  and 
bram  be,  where  the  conflant  bulinefs  of  its  poifellbr  is  to 
obliterate  one  fcene  or  fyflem  of  folly,  only  to  make  w^ay 
for  another. 

In  the  third  place,  I  cannot  help  thinking,  it  is  of  fome 
moment  to  obferve,  that  players,  in  confequence  of  their 
profeifion,  appearing  continually  in  an  ailumed  cliaracher, 
or  being  employed  in  preparing  to  affume  it,  mull  lofe  all 
ienfe  of  iincerity  and  truth.  Truth  is  fo  facred  a  thing, 
that  even  the  leaft  violation  of  it,  is  not  without  its  degree 


Letter  on  Play-Actors,  g^ 

of  guilt  and  danger.  It  was  far  from  being  fo  abfurd 
as  it  often  has  been  faid  to  be,  what  the  old  Spartan 
anfwered  to  an  Adienian,  who  fpoke  to  him  of  the  fine 
leflbns  found  in  their  tragedies  :   '  I  think  I  could  learn 

*  virtue  much  better  from  our  own  rules  of  truth  and  juf- 

*  tice,  than  by  hearing  your  lies.' 

I  will  here  obferve,  that  fome  very  able  and  judicious 
perfons  have  given  it  as  a  ferious  and  important  advice  to 
young  perfons,  to  guard  againit  mimicking  and  taking  oil* 
others,  as  it  is  called,  in  language,  voice,  and  geilure  ; 
becaufe  it  tends  to  deflroy  the  fimplicity  and  dignity  of 
perfonal  manners  and  behaviour.  I  mylelf,  in  early  life, 
knew  a  young  man  of  good  talents,  who  abfolutely  unfitted 
himfelf  for  public  fpeaking,\by  this  practice.  He  was  edu- 
cated for  the  miniilry,  and  v/as  in  every  refpedl  well  qua- 
lified for  the  office  ;  but  having  without  fufpicion,  frequent- 
ly amufecl  himfelf  and  others,  by  imitating  the  tones  and 
geftures  of  the  moft  eminent  preachers  of  the  city  where 
he  lived,  when  he  began  to  preach  himfelf  he  could  not 
avoid  falling  into  one  or  other  of  thofe  tones  and  manners 
which  he  had  fo  often  mximicked.  This,  as  foon  as  it  was 
perceived,  threw  the  audience  into  aburfl  of  laughter,  and 
he  was  foon  obliged  to  quit  the  profefTion  altogether,  for 
no  other  reafon,  than  he  had  thus  fpoiled  himfelf  by  the 
talent  of  imitation. — I  may  fay  further,  in  fupport  of  this 
remark,  that  I  have  known  no  inftance  of  one  eminent  for 
mimicking,  who  did  not  in  time  make  himfelf  contemp- 
tible. 

But  the  human  paiTion  that  makes  the  mofl:  confpicuous 
figure  in  the  theatre,  is  love.  A  play  without  intrigue 
and  gallantry,  would  be  no  play  at  all.  This  pafTion  is^ 
of  all  others,  that  v/hich  has  produced  the  greateft  degree 
of  guilt  and  mifery,  in  the  hiftorj^  of  mankind.  Now  is  it, 
or  can  it  be  denied,  that  adtors  in  the  theatre  are  trained 
up  in  the  knowledge  and  exercife  of  this  pafnon,  in  all  its 
forms.  It  feems  to  have  been  a  fentiment  of  this  kind, 
that  led  a  certain  author  to  fay,  that  to  fend  young  people 
to  the  theatre  to  form  their  manners,  is  to  expe6t,  ^'  that 
"  they  will  learn  virtue  from  profligates,  and  n^odefly 
"  from  harlpts." 


ioo  Letter  on  Play-Actors, 

Thefe  remarks  feem  to  me  fully  fufficient  to  account 
for  the  difgrace  that  has  fo  generally  follov/ed  the  profef- 
fion  of  an  actor.  I  fhall  only  add  a  few  words  upon  an 
opinion  to  be  found  in  Worenfel's  and  fome  other  eminent 
authors.  They  condemn  public  theatres,  and  defpife  hi- 
red players  ;  but  they  recommend  ailing  pieces  by  young 
perfons,  in  fchools  or  in  private  families,  as  a  mean  of 
obtaining  grace  and  propriety  in  pronunciation.  On  this 
I  iliall  juft  obfcrve,  that  though  this  practice  is  much  lefs 
dangerous  than  a  public  theatre,  yet  it  does  not  feem  to 
me  to  be  of  much  neceiTity  for  obtaining  the  end  propofed. 
And  I  dare  fay,  that  if  this  practice  were  often  repeated, 
the  fame  that  may  be  acquired  at  fuch  exhibitions,  M^ould 
upon  the  whole,  be  of  very  little  to  the  honor  or  benefit  of 
thofe  who  acquired  it. 

I  will  conclude  this  eOTay  by  an  obfervation  on  the 
comparifon,  made  by  the  French  writer,  mentioned  in  the 
beghming,  between  the  talents  necelTary  to  a  good  preach- 
er or  pleader,  and  thofe  necelTary  to  a  good  play-aQor.  I 
wifli  he  had  mentioned  the  talents  and  qualifications,  that 
we  might  have  been  able  to  examine  his  reafoning.  As 
for  my  own  part,  I  can  recolle^l  but  two  which  are  eflen- 
tially  requifitc  to  a  player,  memory  and  mimickry ;  and 
I  have  known  both  thefe  talents  pofleffed  in  great  perfec- 
tion, by  men  who  v/ere  not  in  underftanding  many  degrees 
above  fools ;  and  on  the  contrary,  fome  of  the  firfl  men 
whom  liiflory  records,  that  were  no  way  remarkable  in 
point  of  memory  5  and  totally  deflitute  of  the  other  quality. 


ECCLESIASTICAL  CHARACTERISTICS  : 


OR,    THE 


ARCANA  OF  CHURCH  POLICY. 


BEING    AN 

HUMBLE      ATTEMPT 
TO    OPEN    THE 

MYSTERY     or     MODERATION. 


WHiEREIN    IS    SHEWN, 


A  plain  and.eafy  Way  of  attaining  to  the  Character 
of  a  MODERATE  Man,  as  at  prefent  in  repute  in  the 
Church  of  Scotland. 


C   ^°^   1 

M0»  uoM  coov  ooM  0000  MOO  0000  O0C4  ooo:<  oooo  oooo  0000  0000  0000  ooeo  ooQ^oeoo  90o«  oow  «ooo  o«oe  x>o9  oeoo  •ecc  «oo» 
MOO  orjM  coos  cooo  oooo  cooo  aooo  oooa  eooo  coo*  oooo  cooo  osoo  oooc  oooo  coco  ocoo  «o«b  oooo  occo  oooe  oom  oaoc  ocoo  com 

TO    THE 

DEPARTED    GHOST, 

OR 

SURVIVING      SPIRIT, 

OF    THE    LATE 

Reverend  Mr. ,  Minifter  in  . 


Worthy  Sir, 

^URING  a  great  part  of  the  time  I  spent  in  compo- 
sing the  Jollowing  treatise^  I %v as  fully  resolved  to 
lave  sent  it  abroad  by  itself  and  not  to  have  dedicated  it 
to  any  person  in  the  voorld  ;  and  indeed  in  a  confined  sense 
of  the  word  world,  you  see  I  have  still  kept  my  resolution. 
The  reason  of  this  my  intended  purpose  was,  that  I  find 
the  right  honorable  the  earl  of  Shaftesbury^  in  an  adver- 
tisement, or  ticket,  prefixed  to  his  works,  hath  expressed 
a  contempt  and  disdain  of  all  dedications,  prefaces,  or  other 
discourses,  by  way  of  forerunners  to  a  book.  This  he  seems 
to  think  a  mean  and  cowardly  way  in  an  author,  of  creep- 
ing into  the  world,  and  begging  the  reception  which  be 
*dares  not  claim. 

Being  satisfied,  therefore,  of  the  justness  of  this  obser- 
vation, and  being  also  somewhat  confident  fas  his  lordship 
seems  to  have  been)  of theintrinsicworth  of  my  performance  ^ 
1  intended  to  have  come  forth  in  this  masterly  manner. 

But,  upon  more  mature  deliberation,  I  discovered,  that 
the  only  objections  against  dedications  were  the  self -diffi- 
dence just  now  mentioned,  ami  the  suspicion  of  flattery  for 
selfish  ends,  which  is  so  contrary  to  disinterested  benevo- 
lence ;  so  that  if  Icoidd  frame  a  dedication  which  shotdd 


DEDICATION.  103 

be  quite  beyond  the  imputation  of  any  of  these  two  purpo- 
ses, I  should  then  ^wholly  escape  his  lordships s  censure. 

This  aim,  I  think,  I  haiie  fallen  nothing  short  of  ivhen 
Ihai^e  dedicated  this  book  to  you,  most  illustrious  shade  ! 
as  my  most  malignant  enemies  cannot  but  grants  that  I 
could  have  no  expectation  of  your  encouraging  me,  either 
by  buying  my  book,  recommending  it  to  others^  or  gi'ving 
it  away  to  the  poor ;  nay,  or  even  so  much  as  for  my 
translation  to  a  better  benefice  in  assembly  or  commission. 

It  startled  me  a  little^  that  this  conduct  might  perhaps^ 
by  evil  disposed  persons,  be  represented  as  an  approach  to 
fjopery,  and  resembling  their  worshipping  of  saints  :  but 
I  hope  this  can  scarcely  be  imputed  to  me,  in  the  present 
case,  since  you  never  were  esteemed  a  saint  while  you  livedo 
nor  ever  thirsted  after  that  title. 

Another  more  material  objection  occurred  to  me.  Thai  a 
dedication  to  a  dead  man^  is  either  almost  or  altogether 
unprecedented.  But  I  am  not  much  concerned,  though 
this  method  of  proceeding  should  be  thought  bold  and  neWy 
because  this  is  the  character  which  the  incomparable  Mr, 
• ,  gives  of  his  own  essays  upon  the  principles  of  mo- 
rality and  natural  religion.  Besides.,  I  am,  not  altogether 
destitute  of  authority  :  for  the  memorable  dean  Swift  has 
used  the  freedom  to  dedicate  his  Tale  of  a  Tib  to  Prince 
Posterity.  I  have  also  seen  a  satirical  poem,  called  Jure 
Divino,  dedicated^  with  great  solemnity^  to  Prince  (or 
rather,  I  believe,  to  King  J  Reason.  If,  therefore^  one  of 
these  authors  might  dedicate  a  book  to  a  facidty  of  tk^ 
human  mind,  and  the  other  to  an  abstract  idea,  I  hope  it 
is  no  great  presumption  in  me  to  dedicate  mine  to  you-, 
though  "  i?i  statu  mortuorujn  ;"  especially  as  there  is  rio^ 
a  living  man  who  hath  so  good  a  claim  to  the  complinient 
of  a  treatise  upon  my  subject. 

But  a  more  gravelling  difficulty  than  any  of  these,  kept 
me  some  time  i?i  suspense,  viz.  how  to  get  the  book  present- 
ed to  you,  as  I  diid  not  find  in  myself  any  inclination  to 
depart  this  life  in  order  to  transport  it.  After  much  trou- 
ble, I  was  at  length  relieved,  by  refecting,  that  Mr.  Pope 
has  assured  us,  that  the  ghosts  of  departed  ladies  ahvays 
haunt  the  places  in  which  tksy  delighted  vjhile  the 


^1   «^r  I /•*«♦>» 


104  DEDICATION. 

arm}e  ;  and  therefore^  from  analogy^  it  is  to  be  supposed^ 
that  the  same  thing  holds  ivith  regard  to  departed  mi- 
7tisters,  If  this  is  the  case^  I  look  upon  it  as  certain^ 
that  your  chief  residence  is  in  the  assembly -house  at  Edin- 
burgh 'where  you  have^  in  your  life-time^  both  gi^cen  and 
received  so  much  pleasure.  For  though  I  ivill  not  limit 
you^  in  your  unembodied  state^  from  making  circuits 
through  the  country^  and  visiting  synods^  or  presbyteries^ 

particularly  in  the  M se  and  G y,  where  there 

are  so  many  men  after  your  oivn  heart ;  yet^  I  dare  say^ 
you  will  not  be  absent  from  the  asscjnbly^  nor  any  of  the 
quarterly  meetings  of  the  commission^  which  hath  so  often 
saved  the  church  from  impending  dangers. 
,  It  is  therefore  my  purpose  to  go  to  Edinburgh  in  May 
ncxt^  when  the  assembly  meets ^  of  which  I  am  a  member^ 
and  there  to  lay  before  you  my  performance^  hoping  it  will 
prove  most  delicious  and  savoury  to  all  your  senses y  to  the 
names  ofvohich^  and  the  manner  -of  their  present  opera- 
tion^ lam  wholly  a  stranger. 

It  is  probable  you  have  not  been  accustomed^  these  two 
or  three  years  past  ^  to  hear  your  own  praises  celebrated ; 
and  therefore  I  shall  no  farther  launch  out  into  them,  than 
to  sciy^  that  there  is  not  one  branch  of  the  character  re- 
commended in  the  following  pages  ^  in  vohich  you  were  not 
eminent ;  and  that  there  never  %vas  one  stone  by  you  left 

unturned^  for  promoting  the  good  cause. l^hat  you 

may  still  sit  upon  the  throne^  and^  by  your  powerful^ 
though  invisible  i?ifluence^  make  the  intcest  of  moderation 
prevail^  is  the  ardent  voish^  arid  the  pious  prayer  of 

^  SIR, 

Tour  most  obedient 

and  admiring  Sej  vant. 


[     105     3 
THE 


PREFACE 


GRATITUDE  obligeth  me  to  acknowledge  the  kind 
reception  which  the  workl  hath  given  to  the  follow- 
ing generous  effort,  for  the  honor  of  our  church.  This 
Ihows,  either  that  panegyric  is  by  no  means  fo  unaccept- 
able to  mankind  in  general,  as  fome  ill-natured  authors 
infinuate  ;  or  that  this  of  mine  hath  been  executed  with 
very  uncommon  fkill.  If  this  laft  fiiould  be  the  true  fo- 
lution,  it  would  give  me  a  double  fatisfadlion.  How- 
ever, as  the  love  of  detraction,  in  fome  perfons,  is  in- 
curable, and  as  many  have  fuch  ulcerated  minds,  that 
there  is  no  poffibility  of  applying  to  them,  even  in  the 
ibftcll  and  moft  friendly  manner,  without  offending  them ;. 
to  prevent  the  fpreading  of  any  fuch  baleful  influence,  I 
think  it  proper  to  add  a  few  things  upon  the  llrudlure  of 
this  performance  ;  part  of  which  fhould  have  accompa- 
nied the  firfl  edition,  if  it  had  not  pleafed  the  publiflief 
to  print  it  without  any  communication  with  the  author. 

From  the  beginning  I  fore  fa  v/  it  would  occur  as  an 
obje6lion,  that  I  have  not  properly  denominated  that  par- 
ty  in  the  church  which  I  have  choftn  to  celebrate  by  the 
words  moderation  and  moderate  men.  It  is  alledged, 
that,  for  thefe  two  or  three  years  pall,  they  have  made 
little  ufe  of  thefe  words,  and  having  chofen  rather  to 
reprefent  themfelvcs  as  fupporters  of  the  conftitution,  as 
acting  upon  conflitutional  principles,  as  lovers  of  order^ 
and  enemies  to  confufion,  &c.  while  at  the  very  ilime 
time,  the  oppofite  party  have  taken  up  the  title  of  mode- 
ration and  pretend  to  be  acting  upon  moderate  principles. 
It  is  alfo  hinted,  that  the  jufi:  feverities  which  the  times 
render  neceffary,  require  a  different  phrafeology. 

Vol.  III.  O 


ic6  PREFACE. 

In  arifwer  to  this  I  obleiTe,  that  my  treatife  has 
really  been  a  work  of  tune  (as,  I  hope,  appears  from  its 
maturity)  the  moil  part  of  it  having  been  compofed 
above  tv/o  years  ago,  and  before  this  change  of  language 
was  introduced.  It  was  originally  intended  only  to  ex- 
hibit a  general  view  of  the  different  parties  in  religion 
and  learning  among  us  ;  though  it  hath  now  admitted  a 
ver}^  particular  account  of  the  latefl  and  moll  recent  dif- 
ferences in  the  church,  chiefly  becaufe  the  present  feems 
likely  to  be  an  ara  of  fome  confequence,  and  to  be  big 
with  fome  very  great  events,  as  well  as  perfons.  Be- 
fides,  I  confider,  that  this  name  of  moderate  men  was 
much  longer  the  defignation  of  my  friends,  than  thofe 
lately  invented  ;  and  as  they  do  not  even  at  prefent  al- 
low^ the  claim  of  their  enemies  to  that  charadler,  it  is  pro- 
bable they  intend  to  take  it  up  again,  as  foon  as  the 
defigns  now  upon  the  anvil  ihall  be  completely  executed. 
As  to  the  name  of  moderation  being  inconfiitent  with  a 
proper  vigor,  in  fupport  of  their  own  meafures,  and 
wholefomc  fcverities  againll  their  enemies,  it  is  an  ob- 
jedlion  altogether  frivolous,  as  appears  from  the  following 
examples  :  A  certain  miniftcr  being  ailced  the  charadler 
cf  a  friend  of  his,  who  had  come  up  to  the  affembly, 
and  particularly,  whether  or  not  he  was  a  moderate  man  I 
anfwered,  Oyes^  fierce  for  moderation  ! 

I  think  it  proper  to  inform  the  reader,  that  one  great 
reafon  of  the  uncommon  choice  of  a  patron  to  this  work 
was,  an  opinion  1  had  long  entertained,  and  in  fupport 
of  w^hich  I  could  alledge  very  llrong  arguments,  from 
the  fayings  of  fome  great  men  and  philofophers,  as  well 
as  the  pradice  of  a  ftimous  ancient  nation,  with  regard 
to  their  kings  ;  that  the  true  and  proper  time  of  afcertain- 
ing  and  fixing  a  man's  charadler  is  when  he  has  done 
his  w^hole  work  ;  and  that  poderity  hath  as  good  a  right 
to  the  pofTefiion  and  ufe  of  his  fame  after  death,  as  his 
contemporaries  to  his  abilities  during  his  life.  At  the 
fame  time,  though  the  author  had  a  particular  hero  in 
view,  yet  he  chofe  to  publifli  it  without  mentioning  his 
name,  or  place  of  abode,  or  indeed  any  circumllance  fo- 
reign to  the  character  which   might  diRinguifh  the  per- 


PREFACE.  107 

•fon.  The  defign  of  afting  in  this  Tn?vnner  was,  tlrdt  in 
cafe  the  world  fhould  univerfally  agree  to  afcribe  it  to 
the  fame  perfon  he  had  in  his  eye,  it  might  be  fuch  a 
juflification  of  the  truth  of  the  character,  as  very  few 
modern  dedications  can  boaft  of. 

This  invention  I  challenge  as  wholly  my  own  ;  and 
do  hereby  allow  and  recom.mend  the  ufe  of  it  to  all  future 
authors,  hoping  it  will  change  the  fafluon  among  writers 
of  charadler  and  felf-efteem,  from  ufmg  no  dedications  at 
all,  to  forming  them  upon  a  plan  entirely  nev/.  Let 
them  each  keep  his  patron  in  his  eye,  drav/  ills  chara£lev 
as  exadlly  and  graphically  as  poffible,  and  publifh  it  w^ith- 
out  a  name,  or  with  this  infcription  Dctur  dignlssimo  : 
then  if  the  world  do  univerfally  afcribe  it  to  tiie  perfon 
intended,  let  his  name  be  prefixed  to  the  fecond  edition  ; 
and  it  will  be  more  true,  and  llerling,  and  acceptable 
praife,  than  any  hitherto  found  in  that  clafs  of  panegy- 
rics. But  if,  on  the  contrary,  the  world  fhall  afcribe  it 
to  a  different  perfon,  let  the  author  acquiefce  in  that  de- 
termination, rejoice  in  ib  good  an  expedient  for  prevent- 
ing a  blunder,  and  make  his  court  to  his  nev/  patron, 
who  will  hardly  refufe  to  admit  him  after  fo  refined  and 
delicate  a  compliment.  1  dare  not  recommend  any  thing 
like  this  method,  with  refpedlto  the  books  already  print- 
ed, becaufe  it  would  occafion  fo  violent  a  controverfv 
about  the  propriety  of  many  dedications,  as  could  not 
be  ended  but  by  tlie  Iword  ;  they  being  molt  of  them  ad- 
drelled  to  great  men,  who  having  agreed  upon  this  me- 
iIkkI  of  revenging  grofs  affronts,  and  terminating,  in  the 
lall  refort,  all  important  difputcs.  Should  any  allc,  why 
I  have  not  followed  my  own  rule,  by  now  prefixing  the 
name  of  my  patron  "i  They  are  to  underfla.nd,  that,  for 
rea-fons  known  to  mvfelf,  1  intend  to  defer  it  till  the  nine-. 
teenth  or  twentieth  edition. 

If  any  fhall  think  fit  to  blame  me,  for  writing  in  [o  hold 
and  affuming  away,  through  the  whole  of  my  book,  I  an- 
fwer,  I  have  chofen  it  on  purpofe,  as  being  the  lateft  and 
moll  modern  way  of  writing ;  and  the  fuccefs  it  has  al- 
ready met  with,  is  a  demonftration  of  its  propriety  and 
beauty.     The  fame  thing  alfo,  to  my  gr^at  fatisfa6lio?i,  is 


io5  PREFACE. 

a  proof  of  the  juftice  of  a  late  author's  fcheme  of  Mofal 
Philoibpby,  who  has  expelled  mortification^  self-denial^ 
humility^  and  silence^  from  among  the  number  of  the  vir- 
tues, and  transferred  them,  as  he  exprefleth  himfelf,  td 
the  oppofite  column ;  that  is  to  fay,  the  column  of  vices. 
That  fcheme,  I  dare  fay,  will  fland  its  ground ;  and,  as  a 
critic,  I  obferve,  that  it  was  probably  the  fmgle  circum- 
ilance  juft  now  mentioned,  that  brought  upon  the  author 
an  adverfary  who,  though  polFefTed  of  many  truly  good 
qualities,  had  the  misfortune  to  be  always  eminent  for 
mode  fly,  and  other  baftard  virtues  of  the  fame  clafs. 

There  are  feme,  I  find,  of  opinion,  that  it  was  neither 
neceffary  nor  ufeful  for  me,  to  give  fo  many  examples 
cf  the  condu6l  of  the  moderate,  in  the  illuftration  of  the 
fevcral  maxims  ;  and  thefe  eminent  perfons  themfelves 
feem  to  feel  Ibme  pain,  from  the  expofing  of  their  virtues 
to  the  public  view.  But  is  it  not  an  eftabliflied  truth, 
that  example  teaches  better  than  precept  ?  Is  there  any 
thing  more  ufual  in  moral  writings,  than  to  illuftrate 
them  by  extradls  from  the  lives  of  the  philofophers,  and 
other  heroes,  of  ancient  times  ?  and  fince  the  advantage 
of  example  is  commonly  faid  to  be,  that  it  is  a  living 
law,  or  tiiat  it  puts  life  into  the  precept,  furely  the  befi:  of 
all  examples  muft  be  thofe  of  perfons  really  and  literally 
alive  :  neither  fnould  fuch  perfons  themfelves  be  offends 
ed  with  this  conduct ;  fince,  as  has  been  hinted  above, 
mortification  and  self-denial^  are  no  more  to  be  reckoned 
among  the  virtues,  but  the  vices. 

However,  I  have  the  comfort  to  reflect,  that  from  the 
oppofite  opinions  of  thofe  who  have  pafled  their  judgment 
on  this  performance,  I  am  in  the  middle,  and  confequent- 
ly  in  the  right  :  for  there  have  been  tranfmitted  to  me  ma- 
ny noble  infiances  of  moderation,  in  expe6lation,  nft 
doubt,  that  they  Ihould  be  added  to  my  colleQion.  I 
thankfully  acknowledge  my  obligations  to  thefe  kind 
contributors,  but  cannot  make  any  w'iQ  of  their  con- 
tributions  at  prefent ;  for  it  would,  at  leafi,  double  the 
bulk  of  the  treatife,  and  thereby  render  it  less  commodious 
f@r  pocket-carriage,  Furdier,  I  do  affure  them,  it  was 
not  through  want  of  materials  that  a  greater  number  of 
examples  was  not  produced,  but  from  having  cluly  w?igh- 


PREFACE.  109 

ed  the  proper  proportion  for  a  work  of  this  extent  ;  and 
to  what  hath  been  affixed  with  fo  much  deUberation,  I  am 
refolved  ftedfaftly  to  adhere. 

It  were  indeed  to  be  wilhed,  that  every  man  was  left 
to  himfelf,  and  allowed,  in  peace  aiid  quietnefs  to  finifli 
his  own  work  his  own  way  :  for  I  have  feldom  obferved 
thefe  things  called  hints  and  suggestioris^  to  have  any 
other  eHedl  than  to  perplex  and  miflead.  An  author's 
fituation,  when  pcrfccuted  with  them,  feems  to  me  to  re- 
femble  that  of  a  gentleman  building  ahoufe,  or  planning 
out  a  garden,  who,  if  he  hearkens  to  the  advice,  or  at- 
tempts to  gratify  the  talle,  of  every  vifitor,  will,  in  all 
prob?Jjility,  produce,  upon  the  whole,  a  colledlion  of  in- 
confiftencies,  a  fyflem  of  deformity. 

I  am  very  forry  to  be  obliged  thus  to  fpeak  in  oLicurl- 
ty,  by  returning  a  public  anfwer  to  private  obfervations  ; 
but  cannot  omit  taking  notice,  that  it  has  been  much  Vi'on- 
dered  at,  that  a  certain  very  eminent  perfon  has  been  lofL 
in  the  crowd  of  heroes,  without  any  particular  or  diiiin- 
guilhing  compliment  paid  to  himfelf.  Now,  this  did  not 
by  any  means  flow  from  a  Vvant  of  refpeft  and  efteem, 
but  from  a  diftruft  of  my  own  abilities,  and  a  defpalr  of 
being  able  to  do  juilice  to  fo  illuftrious  a  charafer.  Nei- 
ther indeed  was  there  any  great  neceffity  (excepting  mere 
compliment)  of  fpreading  his  fame,  which  hath  already 
gone  both  far  and  wide.  Befides,  that  his  many  and  re- 
markable exploits,  however  llrong  and  pregnant  proofs 
they  may  be  of  benevolence  and  focial  affection,  have 
fome  circumftances  attending  them,  which  render  them 
more  proper  fubjects  ofdifcourfe  than  writing.  The  glare 
would  be  rather  too  great  for  even  the  flrong  eye-fight  of 
this  generation  to  endure,  when  brought  very  near  them. 
The  fun  is  the  moll  glorious  of  all  obiedls  in  the  firma- 

O  J 

ment ;  and  yet,  though  it  were  in  the  power  of  a  paint- 
er to  draw  him  in  all  his  lullre,  there  would  hardly  be 
found  a  proper  place  for  him  in  the  largeft  palace  in  Great- 
Britain. 

The  only  other  obje^lion  1  ihall  take  notice  of,  is,  that 
in  one  refpe6l,  1  may  be  faid  to  have  drawn  the  pi6lure 
larger  than  the  life,  in  as  much  as  I  feem  to  fuppofe,  that 
all  moderatfj  men  C\o^  ir.  fa6t,  polTefs  every  one  of  the  vir- 


110  P  R  E  F  A  C  E. 

tues  which  I  have  made  to  enter  into  the  perfedion  of  the 
charadter.  This  objection,  though  the  one  moll  infilled 
upon,  is  evidently  both  falfe  and  foohfli.  No  reader,  of 
true  diicernment  can  imagine  any  fuch  thing.  If  it  were 
fo,  there  would  be  no  occalion  for  my  book  at  all ; 
on  the  contrary,  the  various  maxima  inferted  in  it, 
and  the  various  examples  produced  in  illullration  of  them, 
do  iliew  that  there  are  different  degrees  of  perfedilion,  even 
amongft  the  moderate  themft'lves.  They  are  a  body, 
every  member  of  which  has  neither  the  fame  abilities,  nor 
the  fame  office.  They  are  alio  a  body  moll  firmly  uni- 
ted, for  mutual  defence  and  fapport :  fo  much,  I  confefs, 
I  intended  to  intimate ;  and  that,  on  this  account,  they 
are  intitled  to  a  fort  of  community  of  goods,  and  mutual 
participation  of  each  other's  excellencies.  A  head  may 
very  well  boall  of  the  beauty,  elegance  and  aiflivity  of  the 
hands,  or  the  comely  proportion  and  llrength  of  the  limbs 
belonging  to  it :  and  yet,  thougli  they  are  one  body,  it 
V/ouId  be  ridiculous  to  fuppofe,  that  the  head  or  hands  are 
always  in  the  dirt,  when  they  have  the  feet  to  carry  them 
through  it. 

This  metaphor  of  a  body,  however  common,  is  one  of 
the  juRell  and  moll  fignificative  imaginable,  out  of  v/hich 
a  very  long  allegory  might  be  formed ;  but  I  Ihall  profe* 
cute  it  no  farther  at  this  time,  except  to  acknowledge, 
that  it  convinces  me  of  one  real  omillion  in  my  plan,  viz. 
that  what  hath  been  jull  now  hinted,  I  ought  to  have  in- 
ferted as  a  thirteenth  maxim\  and  illuftrated  it  at  large.* 
It  would  have  been  eafy  to  ihov/,  that  the  moderate  arc 
remarkable  for  the  moll  perfeil  union  and  harmony,  and 
for  a  firm  and  lledfall  adherence  to  each  other,  in  the  })ro- 
fecution  of  their  deiigns.  Neither  is  there  any  inftance  in 
which  there  is  a  llronger  contrail  or  oppolirion  between 
them  and  the  orthodox  ;  as  mariifellly  appeared  from  the 
conducl  of  both  parties  in  the  General  Allembly  1753. 
A  friend  of  ours  called  the  enemy,  upon  that  occafion,  a 
parcel  of  conscicnc'wiis  fools  :  had  he  then  read  the  follow- 
ing maxims,  which  prove,  that  they  have  as  little  eon- 
science  as  wisdom^  it  is  probable  he  w^ould  have  bellowed 
on  them  their  true  and  proper  characler. 

*  This  Wiis  done  in  the  third  cd  tion. 


C   "I   ] 

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••00  ccoo  <^vc:  cs:3  coos  ccco  £«oo  oocs  ooo3  tvco  ooo?  cooo  oooa  eaoa  ccoo  coeo  oooo  oooo  aooo  eooo  oooe  oooo  mm  trryt'tjKtt 

ECCLESIASTICAL 

CHARACTERISTICS. 


I  N  T  R  O  D  U  C  T  I  O  N. 


THE  reader  will  doubtlefs  agree  with  me,  that  mode- 
ration is  an  excellent  thing,  and  particularly  the 
the  nobleft  character  of  a  church-man.  It  is  alfo  well 
known,  that  as  all  churches  have  ufually  in  them  a  mo- 
derate, and  a  zealous,  high-flying,  wild  party  ;  fo  our 
church  hath  at  prelent  a  certain  party,  who  glory  in,  and 
fight  for  moderation  ;  and  who  (it  is  to  be  hoped  judly) 
appropriate  to  themfelves  wholly  the  charadler  of  mode- 
rate men :  neither  is  it  a  fmall  prefage  of  a  glorious  and 
blefled  Hate  of  the  church,  in  its  approaching  periods,  that 
fo  many  of  our  young  men  are  fmitten  with  the  love  of 
moderation,  and  generally  burn  with  defire  to  appear  in 
that  noble  and  divine  chara6ler. 

This  hath  infpired  me  with  the  ambition  and  expecta- 
tion of  being  helpful  in  training  up  as  many  as  are  defi- 
rous  of  it,  in  this  moil  ufeful  of  all  fciences.  For  how- 
ever perfedlly  it  is  known,  and  however  fteadiiy  pra6li led* 
by  many  who  are  adepts  ;  and  notwith (landing  there  are 
fome  young  men,  of  pregnant  parts,  who  make  a  fudden 
and  furprifmg  proficiency,  without  much  alTiftance  ;  -  yet 
I  have  often  obferved,  that  there  are  feveral  perfons,  who 
err,  in  many  inllances,  from  the  right  path,  boggle  at  fun- 


112  Ecclesiastical  Characterestics, 

dry  particular  ileps  of  their  leaders,  and  take  a  lon^o;  time 
before  they  are  thoroughly  confirmed  in  their  principles 
and  pra6tice.  The  fame  perfons  alfo,  by  an  unliable 
conduct,  or  by  an  imprudent  or  unfea,fonable  difcovery 
of  then'  defigns,  have  brought  a  reproach  upon  their  par- 
ty, and  been  an  ob(lru6"lion  to  whatever  work  they  had 
then  in  hand. 

Thefe  bad  effects,  I  humbly  conceive,  flow  chiefly,  if 
not  only,  from  the  want  of  a  complete  fyitem  of  mode- 
ration, containing  all  the  principles  of  it,  and  giving  a 
dillin(5l  view  of  their  mutual  Influence  one  upon  another, 
as  well  as  proving  their  reafonabienefs,  and  fiiowing,  by 
examples,  how  they  ought  to  be  put  in  pradlice. 

There  is  no  work  of  this  kind,  to  my  knowledge,  yet 
extant,  which  renders  my  prefent  undertaking  of  it  the 
more  laudable,  and  will,  I  hope,  render  it  the  more  ac- 
ceptable. 

I  mufl  inform  the  reader,  that  after  I  was  fully  con- 
vinced of  the  necelTity  of  fome  fuch  piece  as  what  fol- 
lows, but  before  I  entered  upon  it  myfelf,  I  earneftly 
intreated  feveral  of  the  moft  eminent  men  of  the  mode- 
rate ilamp  among  us,  thofe  burning  and  fliining  lights  pf 
our  church,  who  are,  and  are  efleeraed  to  be,  our  leaders, 
that  fome  of  them  would  fet  about  it.  However,  they 
all  devolved  it  upon  me ;  and  made  this  fatisfying  ex- 
cufe  for  themfelves,  that  they  were  fo  bufied  in  ailing 
moderation,  that  they  could  not  have  time  to  write  up- 
on it.  This  foon  led  me  to  think,  what  would  become 
of  many  noble  defigns,  and  what  advantage  our  difcon- 
tented  zealots  might  take,  if  any  of  the  expert  lleerf- 
men  of  this  ecclefiallical  veflel  of  ours  fliould  retire  from 
the  helm  ;  but  fo  long  time  as  would  be  neceifary  to  bring 
.a  work  of  fuch  a  nature,  to  the  perfedion  in  ftrength, 
lymmetry,  and  elegance,  that  the  reader  will  perceive 
even  this  of   mine  is  arrived  at. 

I  fhall  now  proceed  to  the  principal  part  of  the  work, 
after  I  have  informed  the  reader  of  the  plan  of  it ;  which 
is  briefly  this,  to  enumerate  diilinclly  and  in  their  pro- 
per order  and  connexion,  all  the  feveral  maxims  upon 
which  moderate  men  conduct  themfelves  :    and  foraf- 


Ecclesian'ieal  Char  act  erhtics.  113 

much  as  the  juftice  of  many  of  them,  being  refined  pieces 
of  policy,  is  not  very  evident  at  firft  fight,  I  fhall  fubjoin  to 
each  an  illuftration  and  confirmation  of  it,  from  reafon 
or  experience,  or  both.  N.  B.  I  Ihall  make  but  very 
little  ufe  of  Scripture,  becaufe  that  is  contrary  to  fome 
of  the  maxims  themfelves  ;  as  will  be  feen  in  the  fe- 
quel. 

MAXIM    I. 

All  ecclefiaflical  perfons,  of  whatever  rank,  whether 
principals  of  colleges,  profeflbrs  of  divinity,  miniflers, 
or  even  probationers,  that  are  fufpedled  of  hereiy,  are 
to  be  efteemed  men  of  great  genius,  vail:  learning^, 
and  uncommon  worth  ;  and  are,  by  all  means,  to  be 
fupported  and  protected. 

All  moderate  men  have  a  kind  of  fellow-feeling  with 
herefy  :  and  as  foon  as  they  hear  of  any  one  fuipected,  or 
in  danger  of  being  profecuted  for  it,  zealouily  and  una- 
nimouily  rife  up  in  his  defence.  This  faO:  is  unquefti- 
onable.  I  never  knew  a  moderate  man  in  my  life,  that 
did  not  love  and  honor  a  heretic,  or  that  had  not  an  im- 
placable hatred  at  the  perfons  and  characters  of  here fy- 
hunters  ;  a  name  with  which  we  have  thought  proper  to 
Higmatize  thefe  fons  of  Belial,  who  begin  and  carry 
on  profecutions  againft  men  for  herefy  in  church- 
courts. 

It  is  related  of  the  apoflle  John,  and  an  ugly  flory  it 
is,^  that  upon  going  into  a  public  bath,  and  obferving 
the  heretic  Cerinthus  there  before  him,  he  retired  v/ith 
the  utmoft  precipitation,  left  the  edifice  iliould  fall,  and 
crufli  him,  when  in  company  with  fuch  an  enemy  of 
'the  truth.  If  the  ftory  be  true,  the  apoille's  conduct 
was  ridiculous  and  wild  ;  but  Dr.  Middleton  has  ihown 
that  the  ftory  is  not  true  ;  and  indeed,  the  known  be- 
nevolence and  charity  of  John's  w^ritings  make  it  highly 
probable.  However,  not  to  enter  into  that  controverfy, 
whether  it  be  true  or  not,  the  conduct  of  all  moderate  men 
is  direftly  oppofite. 

Vol.  III.  P 


114  Ecclesiastical  Characteristics. 

As  to  the  juFiice  of  this  maxim,    many  folid   reafons 

may  be  given  for  it. Compaflion  itfelf,  which  is  one 

of  the  iinefl:  and  mofi:  benevolent  feelings  of  the  human 
heart,  moves  them  to  the  relief  of  their  diftreiTed  bro- 
ther.  Another  very  plain  reafon  may  be  given  for  it : 

moderate  men  are,  by  their  very  name  and  conilitution, 
the  reverfe,  in  all  refpedis,  of  bigotted  zealots.  Now, 
it  is  well  known,  that  many  of  this  lail  fort,  both  cler- 
gy and  common  people,  when  they  hear  of  a  man  fuf- 
pe6led  of  herefy,  conceive  an  averfion  at  him,  even  be- 
fore they  know  any  tiling  of  the  cafe  ;  nor  after  he  is  ac- 
quitted (as  they  are  all  of  them  commonly  in  our 
church-courts)  can  they  ever  come  to  entertain  a  favor- 
able opinion  of  him.  The  reverfe  of  this  then  is,  to  be 
as  early  and  as  vigorous  in  his  defence,  as  they  are  in  his 
profecution,  and  as  implicit  in  our  belief  of  his  ortho- 
doxy, as  they  are  in  their  belief  of  his  error. 

I  rcmem.ber,  when  I  was  difcourfing  once  to  this  pur- 
pofe,  a  certain  raw  unexperienced  perfon  faid,  he  had 
always  thought,  that  not  moderation,  but  lukewarmnefs 
and  indifference  to  truth,  was  the  reverfe  of  exceffive 
zeal ;  and  that  moderation  was  fituated  in  the  middle 
betwixt  the  two.  To  whom  I  anfwered,  Young  man, 
you  do  not  refled:,  that  no  fierce  man  can  be  refilled  but 
by  one  as  fierce,  nor  overcome  but  by  one  fiercer  than 
himfelf ;  if,  therefore,  no  body  would  oppofe  the  zealots, 
but  fuch  calm  midfmen  as  you  mention,  in  every  fuch 
initance  the  balance  of  power  muft  lean  to  their  fide,  and 
the  poor  heretic  mull  fall  a  facrifice,  to  the  no  fmall  de- 
triment of  the  caufe  of  moderation  ;  which  by  the  bye, 
is  commonly  fupported  by  the  heretics  in  their  flations, 
and  therefore  they  deferve  a  grateful  return. 

This  brings  to  my  mind  another  reafon  for  the  maxim, 
viz.  That  heretics  being  h  nearly  related  to  the  mode- 
rate men,  have  a  right  to  claim  their  protediion  out  of 
friend/hip  and  perfonal  regard.  This  ferves  a  very  no- 
ble end ;  for  it  vindicates  the  Chrifiian  religion  from  the 
objedion  of  fome  infidels,  who  afiirm  that  it  does  not 
recommend  private  friendiliip  ;  now  moderate  men  ha- 
ving  all  a  very  great  regard  to  private   friendfl^p,   and- 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics.  115 

perfonal  conne(Slions,  do,  by  their  praiflice,  which  is  the 
moflfolid  way,  confute  this  flander. 

I  may  add  to  thefe  another  argument  for  tlie  great  cha- 
racter of  heretics,  as  allerted  in  the  maxim,  which  I 
picked  up  from  the  preaching  of  a  feceding  miniller. 
He  told  his  hearers,  that  when  the  devil  looks  out  for 
an  inftrument  to  propagate  error,  he  never  makes  choice 
of  a  weak  filly  man,  but  one  able  and  learned  ;  as  well 
knowing,  I  fuppofe,  that  though  God  can  fupport  his 
caufe  by  any  inilrument  w^hatever,  yet  he  needs  always 
the  belt  and  moft  fufficient  he  can  get.  Nov/,  though  I 
hope  no  man  will  reckon  me  of  this  fanatic's  principles, 
fo  far  as  to  think  the  devil  the  fource  of  error  ;  yet  the 
citation  ferves  my  purpofe,  as  it  fhew^s  that  he  himfelf 
was  convinced  of  the  ability  and  learning  of  heretics  ; 
and  all  the  world  knows,  that  the  tedimony  of  an  enemy 
is  the  flrongefi:  of  ail  evidences  upon  a  man's  fide. 

I  ihall  conclude  this  maxim  with  obferving,  that  fuch 
tendernefs  for  heretics,  however  due  from  fome,  is  yet, 
in  many  of  the  m.oderate  chara6ler,  an  inilance  of  the 
moil  heroic  and  generous  friendfhip.  It  is  quite  difmter- 
eiled,  as  they  themfelves  run  not  the  fmallefc  hazard  of 
ever  being  in  the  like  circumilances.  Heretics  are  com- 
monly an  ho^eft  fort  of  people,  but  with  all  their  book 
learning,  of  no  great  ilock  of  p^yudence  or  policy.  They 
publifh  and  aflert  whatever  they  believe  upon  ail  points, 
without  confidering  the  reception  it  is  like  to  meet  with, 
from  thole  of  oppofite  principles.  They  affront  the  pub- 
lic to  its  face,  which  Lord  Shafliloury  telis  us  ought  not  to 
be  done.  On  the  other  hand,  men  thorough-paced  in 
moderation,  difcover  their  principles  only  at  fucli  times, 
and  to  fuch  perfons,  as  are  able  to  bear  them.  By  this 
means  they  preferve  themfelves  from  herefy :  and  in- 
deed they  cannot  pofiibly  fall  into  it,  imlefs  by  miilake ; 
in  which  cafe,  as  foon  as  they  are  challenged,  (if  it  is  iik-$ 
to  be  attended  with  any  temporal  inconveniency)  they 
deny    it,  explain  it  away,  or  repent,  and  a&  pardon. 

In  all  this  they  follow  the  noble  example  of  Mr. , 

wdio,   iii  the  aiTembly  debates,  ii]X)n  Frofeilbr  Simfon^S 
affair,    happening  to  fay  foiaething  ti);U  was  chaliengeci 


ii6  Ecclesiastical  Characteristics, 

by  one  prcfent  as  herefy,  immediately  replied,  "  Mode- 
"  rator,  if  that  be  herefy,  I  renounce  it." 

MAXIM     11. 

When  any  man  is  charged  with  loofe  pra6lices,  or  ten- 
dencies to  immorality,  he  is  to  be  fcreened  and  protedl- 
ed  as  much  as  pofiible ;  efpecially  if  the  faults  laid  to 
his  charge  be,  as  they  are  incompajably  well  termed  in 
a  fermon,  preached  by  a  hopeful  youth  that  made  fome 
noife  lately,  *'  good  humored  vices." 

The  reafon  upon  which  this  maxim  is  founded,  may  be 
taken  from  the  reafons  of  the  former,  ''  mutatis  mutan- 
*'  dis ;"  there  being  fcarcely  any  of  them  that  does  not 
hold  equally  in  both  cafes.  A  libertine  is  a  kind  of  prac- 
tical heretic,  and  is  to  be  treated  as  fuch.  Dr.  Tillotfon 
obferves,  in  one  of  his  fermons,  that  the  worfi:  of  allhere- 
fies  is  a  bad  life  :  now,  if  inftead  of  worfl,  w^hich  is  an 
uncomely  expreffion,  you  would  read  gre ate  11,  in  that  paf- 
fage,  then  a  libertine  is  the  greatell  of  all  heretics,  and  to 
be  honored  in  proportion.  Even  the  apoftle  Paul  (v/ho 
is  very  feldom  of  any  ufe  to  us  in  our  reafonings)  feems 
to  fuppofe,  that  they  are  men  of  moil  knowledge,  who  are 
moil  free  and  bold  in  their  practice  ;  and  that  they  are 
only  weak  brethren,  who  are  filled  with  fcruples.  The 
weak  man  is  reftrained  and  confined  by  his  narrow  con- 
fcience  ;  but  the  llrong  man  belie veth  that  he  may  eat, 
and,  by  parity  of  reafon,  drink  all  thuigs. 

In  order  to  under  (land  the  nature  of  ''  good-humored 
"  vices,  the  reader  may  pleafe  to  take  noiice,  that  it  is  an 
obiervatlon  of  Lord  Shafllbury,  that  "  the  bell  time  for 
*'  thinking  upon  religious  fubje61:s,  is  when  a  man  is  mer- 
*'  ry,  and  in  good  humor  :"  and  fo  far  is  this  obfervation 
drawn  from  nature,  that  it  is  the  time  commonly  chofen 
for  that  purpofe,  by  many  who  never  heard  of  his  lordihip, 
or  his  writings.  "Whatever,  therefore,  ferves  to  promote 
merriment,  and  heighten  good  humor,  mud  fo  far  ferve  for 
the  difcovery  of  religious  truth.  But  as  there  are  many 
ways  of  making  a  pcrfon  merry,  which  narrow-minded 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics,  117 

people  will  call  vice ;  from  thence,  in  compliance  with 
common  language,  arifes  the  new  compound  '*  good- 
*'  humored  vices."  It  is  not,  however,  {0  to  be  under- 
ftood,  as  if  either  the  inventor  of  it,  or  thofe  who  love  and 
patronize  him,  mean  any  thing  by  it  but  what  is,  "  in 
"  their  appreheniion,"  both  innocent  and  laudable. 

Let  it  alfo  be  obferved,  that  as  gravity  is  almoft  a  necef- 
fary  confcquence  of  folitude,  "good-humored  vices"  are  cer- 
tainly "  focial  pleafures,''  and  fuch  as  flow  from,  and  fliow 
benevolence  ;  and  this  is  an  ailediion  for  which  our  whole 
fraternity  have  the  higheft  regard,  iiifomuch  that  no  furer 
mark  can  be  taken  of  a  man's  being  one  of  us,  tJian 
the  frequent  returns  of  this  expreifion  in  his  difcourfes  or 
writings. 

It  v/ill  ferve  further  for  the  fupport  of  this  maxim,  that 
according  to  modern  difcov^eries,  there  is  a  great  analogy 
between  the  "  moral  virtues,"  or,  if  you  will,  the  "  ici- 
ence  of  morals,"  and  the  "fine  arts:"  and  it  is  on  ac- 
count of  this  analogy,  that  moil  of  the  prefent  reigning 
exprefTions  upon  the  fubjeft  of  morals,  are  borrowed  from 
the  arts,  as  "  beauty,  order,  proportion,  harmony,  de- 
"  cency,  Sec."  It  is  alfo  ellabliflied  long  fmce,  and  well 
known  as  a  principle  in  the  fine  arts,  that  a  certain  free- 
dom and  boldnefs  of  manner  is  what  chiefly  conilitutes 
grace  and  beauty.  Why  then  fhould  not  approbation  be 
founded  upon  the  fame  grounds  in  both  cafes  ?  Why 
fliould  not  a  bold  pra6lice  be  as  beautiful  in  real,  as  a  bold 
hand  is  in  imitated  life  ?  efpecially  as  all  great  geniules 
have  a6lua.lly  laid  claim  to  this  as  their  peculiar  privile^yc, 
not  to  be  ccafiiied  to  common  forms  ;  and  that  in  oppofj^ 
tion  to  the  bulk  of  mankind,  who  through  w^mt  of  tafte, 
a,re  not  able  to  relifh  the  finell  performances  in  any  0/  the 
kinds. 

I  muil  not,  however,  omit  taking  notice,  to  prevent 
niiRakes,  of  one  exception  that  muft  be  made  from  this 
maxim  ;  that  is  that  when  the  perfon  to  whole  charge  any 
faults  are  laid,  is  reputed  orthodox  in  his  principles,  in 
tlie  common  acceptation  of  that  word,  or  comes  in  by 
orthodox  influence,  in  that  cafe  they  are  all  to  be  taken 
forgrantecl  as  true,  and  thw  evil  of  diem  fet  forth  in  the 


ii8  Ecclesiastical  Characteristics, 

liveilefl  colours.  In  confequence  of  this,  he  is  to  be  pro- 
fecuted  and  torn  to  pieces  on  account  of  thefe  crimes. 
But  if  it  fo  happen,  that  he  cannot  be  convidted  upon  a 
trial,  then  it  is  beft  to  make  ufe  of  things  as  they  really 
are;  that  is,  to  exprefs  fufpicions,  to  give  ingenious  and 
dubious  hints,  and,  if  polTible,  ruin  him  without  any  tri- 
al at  all.  There  was  a  noble  example  of  this  given  a  few 
years  ago,  in  the  cafe  of  a  fettlement  in  the  bounds  of 
a  prelbyteiy,  very  many  of  whom  are  eminent  in  mode- 
ration. In  that  cafe,  there  were  feveral  faults  laid  to  the 
charge  of  the  candidate  ;  and  yet,  though  he  himfelf  very 
much  infilled  upon  an  inquiry  into  their  truth,  and  a  judg- 
ment upon  their  relevancy,  the  prefoytery  wifely  refufed 
to  do  cither  the  one  or  the  other,  but  left  them  to  have 
t;heir  own  natural  weight  in  fame,  rumour,  and  conver- 
fation. 

The  neceflity  of  this  exception  is  very  evident :  for,  in 
the  fuppofed  cafe,  all  the  reafons  for  protection  to  the  young 
man  fail ;  to  fatisfy  himfelf  of  which,  let  the  reader  view 
thefe  reafons,  as  they  are  annexed  to  the  firfl;  maxim,  and 
fave  my  book  from  the  deformity  of  repetition. 

M  A  X  I  M    III. 

It  is  a  neceifary  part  of  the  character  of  a  moderate  man, 
never  to  fpeak  of  theConfefiion  of  Faith  but  Avith  a  fneer ; 
to  give  fly  hints,  that  he  does  not  thoroughly  believe  it ; 
and  to  make  the  word  orthodoxy  a  term  of  contempt 
and  reproach. 

The  Confefilon  of  Faith,  v/hich  we  are  now  all  laid  un- 
der a  difagreeable  necelTity  to  fubfcribe,  w^as  framed  in 
times  of  hot  religious  zeal ;  and  therefore  it  can  hard- 
ly be  fuppofed  to  contain  any  tiling  agreeable  to  our  fenti- 
iiients  in  thefe  cool  and  rcfrefliing  days  of  moderation. 
So  true  is  this,  tl:at  I  do  not  remember  to  have  heard  any 
moderate  man  fpeak  well  of  it,  or  recommend  it,  in  a 
fermon,  or  private  difcourfe,  in  my  time.  And,  indeed, 
nothing  can  be  more  ridiculous,  tlian  to  make  a  fixed 
flandard  for  opinions,  v/hich  change  juil  as  the  falliions  of 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics,  119 

clothes  and  drels.  No  conipleat  ryftem  can  be  fettled  for 
all  ages,  except  the  maxims  I  am  now  compiling  and  il- 
luftrating;  and  their  great  perfedion  lies  in  their  being  am- 
bulatory, fo  that  they  may  be  applied  differently,  with  the 
change  of  times. 

Upon  this  head  fome  may  be  ready  to  obje6t.  That  if 
the  Confeilion  of  Faith  be  built  upon  the  facred  Scrip- 
tures, then,  change  what  will,  it  cannot,  as  the  founda- 
tion upon  which  it  rells,  remains  always  firm  and  the 
fame.  In  anfwer  to  this,  I  beg  leave  to  make  a  very 
new,  and  therefore  linking  comparifon  :  When  a  lady 
looks  at  a  mirror,  flie  fees  herfelf  in  a  certain  attitude 
and  drefs,  but  in  her  native  beauty  and  colour ;  fnould 
herej^e,  on  a  fudden,  be  tinctured  with  the  jaundice,  Hie 
fees  herfelf  all  yellow  andfpotted  ;  yet  the  mirror  remains 
the  fame  faithful  mirror  Hill,  and  the  alteration  arifes  not 
from  it,  but  from  the  object  that  -looks  at  it.  I  beg  leave 
to  make  another  comparifon  :  When  an  old  philofopher 
looked  at  the  evening-ftar,  he  beheld  nothing  but  a  little 
twinkling  orb,  round  and  regular  like  the  reft  ;  but  when 
a  modern  views  it  with  a  telefcope,  he  talks  of  phafes, 
and  horns,  and  mountains,  and  what  not ;  now  this 
arifes  not  from  any  alteration  in  the  ftar,  but  from  his  fu- 
perior  afliftance  in  looking  at  it.  The  application  of  both 
thefe  fimilitudes  I  leave  to  the  reader. 

But  befides  thefe  general  reafons,  there  is  one  very 
ftrong  particular  reafons  why  moderate  men  cannot  love 
the  Confeffion  of  Faith  ;  moderation  evidently  implies  a 
large  ihare  of  charity,  and  confequently  a  good  and  fa- 
vorable opinion  of  thofe  that  differ  from  our  church ; 
but  a  rigid  adherence  to  the  ConfelHon  of  Faith,  and  high 
efteemofit,  near]}/  borders  upon,  or  gives  great  fufpici- 
on  of  harfli  opinions  of  thofe  that  differ  from  us  :  and 
does  not  experience  rife  up  and  ratify  this  obfervation  ? 
Who  are  the  narrow-minded,  biggotted,  uncharitable  per- 
-fons  among  us  ?  Who  are  the  fevere  cenfurers  of  thofe 
that  differ  in  judgment  ?  Who  are  the  damners  of  the  ador- 
able Heathens^  Socrates,  Plato,  Marcus  Antonius,  &c.  ? 
In  fine,  who  are  the  perfecutors  of  the  inimitable  here- 
tics among  ourfelves  ?  Who  but  the  admirers  of  this  ari- 


I20  Ecclesiastical  Characteristics, 

liquated  compofition,  who  pin  their  faith  to  other  men's 
flceves,  and  will  not  endure  one  jot  lefs  or  different  be- 
lief from  what  their  fathers  had  before  them  !  It  is  there- 
fore plain,  that  the  moderate  man,  who  defires  to  inclofe 
all  hitelligent  beings  in  one  benevolent  embrace,  mufl 
have  an  utter  abhorrence  at  that  vile  hedge  of  diflin6tion, 
the  Confeffion  of  Faith. 

I  fhall  briefly  mention  a  trifling  objection  to  this  part 
of  our  chara<5ler.  That  by  our  fubfcription  we  facrifice 
fmcerity,  the  queen  of  virtues,  to  private  gain  and  ad- 
vantage. To  which  I  anfwer,  in  the  firil  place.  That  the 
objection  proves  too  much,  and  therefore  mufi:  be  falfe, 
and  can  prove  nothing :  for,  allowing  the  juflice  of  the 
obje<r!:ion,  it  would  follow,  that  a  vail  number,  perhaps  a 
majority,  of  the  clergy  of  the  church  of  England  are  vil- 
lains ;  their  printed  fcrmons  being,  many  of  them,  dia- 
metrically oppofite  to  the  articles  which  they  fubfcribe. 
Now,  as  this  fuppofition  can  never  be  admitted  by  any 
charitable  man,  the  objedlion  from  whence  it  flows,  as  a 
neceffary  coufequence,  mull:  fall  to  the  ground. 

But  further,  what  is  there  more  infmcere  in  our  fub- 
fcriptions,  than  in  thofe  expreffions  of  compliment  and 
civility,  which  all  acknowledge  lawful,  although  they  rare- 
ly exprefs  the  meaning  of  the  heart !  The  defign  is  fuffi- 
ciently  underflood  in  both  cafes ;  and  our  fubfcriptions 
have  this  advantage  above  forms  of  compliment,  in  point 
of  honefly,  that  we  are  at  a  great  deal  of  pains  ulually 
to  perfuade  the  world  that  we  do  not  believe  what  we  fign  ; 
whereas  the  complaifant  gentleman  is  very  feldom  at  any 
pains  about  the  matter. 

What  is  faid  might  fuffice  in  fo  clear  a  cafe  ;  but  I  am 
here  able  to  give  a  proof  of  the  improvement  of  the  age, 
by  comm.unicating  to  the  reader  a  new  way  of  fubfcrib- 
ing  the  ConfeiTion  of  Faith,  in  a  perfe^l  confiflency  with 
fmcerity,  if  that  be  thought  of  any  confequence  :  it  is 
taken  from  the  method  of  attefling  fome  of  our  gentle- 
men elders  to  the  general  alfembly.  Many  infill,  that 
they  ought  to  be  attelled,  and  do  atteil  them,  as  qualifi- 
ed in  all  refpeQs,  if  the  atteilors  are  wholly  ignorant 
about  the  matter;  becaufe,  in  that  cafe,  there  is  no  evi- 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics. 


121 


dence  to  the  contrary,  and  the  prefumption  ought  to  lie 
on  the  favorable  ficle.  Now,  as  every  new  difcovery 
fliould  be  applied  to  all  the  purpofes  for  which  it  may  be 
ufeful,  let  this  method  be  adopted  by  the  intrants  into 
the  miniftry,  and  applied  to  their  fubfcription  of  the 
ConfefTion  of  Faith.  Nothing  is  more  eafy  than  for  them 
to  keep  themfelves  wholly  ignorant  of  what  it  contains ; 
and  then  they  may,  with  a  good  confcience,  fubfcribe  it 
as  true,  becaufe  it  ought  to  be  fo. 

MAXIM    IV. 

A  good  preacher  mull:  not  only  have  all  the  above  and 
fubfequent  principles  of  moderation  in  him,  as  th^ 
fource  of  every  thing  that  is  good  ;  but  mull,  over  and 
above,  have  the  following  fpecial  marks  and  figns  of  a 
talent  for  preaching,  i.  His  fabjedts  muft  be  con- 
fined to  focial  duties.  2.  He  mull  recommend  them 
only  from  rational  confiderations,  viz.  the  beauty  and 
comely  proportions  of  virtue,  and  its  advantages  in 
the  prefent  life,  without  any  regard  to  a  future  Hate  of 
more  extended  felf-intereft,  3.  His  authorities  mull 
be  drawn  from  heathen  writers,  none^  or  as  few  as  pof- 
fible,  from  Scripture.  4.  He  muft  be  very  unaccept- 
able to  the  common  people. 

Thefe  four  marks  of  a  good  preacher,  or  rules  for 
preaching  well  (for  they  ferve  equally  for  both  purpofes) 
I  Ihall  endeavor  diiLin(^ly  to  illuftrate  and  confirm,  that 
this  important  branch  of  my  fubje(5l  may  be  fully  under- 
ftood. 

As  to  the  firft  of  thefe  rules.  That  a  preacher's  fubje6ls 
muft  be  confined  to  "  focial  duties,"  it  is  quite  neceilary 
in  a  moderate  man,  becaufe  his  moderation  teaches  him 
to  avoid  all  the  high  flights  of  evangelic  enthufiafm,  and 
the  myfteries  of  grace,  which  the  common  people  are  ^o 
fond  of.  It  may  be  obferved,  nay,  it  is  obferved,  that  all 
.of  our  ftamp,  avoid  the  word  gra,ce  as  much  as  polTible, 
and  have  agreed  to  fubftitute  the  ''  moral  virtues"  in  the 
room  of  the  "  graces  of  the  fplrit,"  which  is  the  orthodox 
e^ipreflion.  And  indeed  it  is  not  in  this  only,  but  in  all 
Vol.  III.  Q 


122  Ecclesiastical  Characteristics. 

other  cafes,  that  we  endeavor  to  improve  the  phrafeology, 
and  fliow,  that  bcfides  fentiment,  even  in  language  itfelf, 
we  are  far  faperior  to,  and  v/ifer  than  our  fathers  before 
us.  I  could  fhow  this  by  a  grea,t  many  examples,  but 
that  it  v/ould  be  too  tedious  ;  and  therefore  only  add,  to 
the  one  mentioned  above,  that  where  an  ancient  orthodox 
man,  or  oven  an  old  fafhioned  modern,  that  thinks  reli- 
gion can  never  be  amended,  either  in  matter  or  manner, 
would  have  faid  '^  a  great  degree  of  fandlification,"  a  man 
of  moderation  and  politenefs  will  fay,  "  a  high  pitch  of 
''  virtue."  Now,  as  this  is  the  cafe,  it  is  plain  a  mode- 
rate preacher  mufl:  confine  his  fubje6ls  to  fecial  duties 
chiefly,  and  not  infift  on  fuch  paflages  of  Scripture  as  will 
by  the  very  repetition  of  them,  contaminate  his  ftyle, 
and  may  perhaps  difFufe  a  rank  fmell  of  orthodoxy  through 
the  whole  of  his  difcourfe. 

After  all,  I  cannot  refufe,  that  it  is  ftill  a  more  excel- 
lent wa}^  for  thofe  who  have  talents  equal  to  the  under- 
taking, to  feize  an  orthodox  text,  explain  it  quite  away 
from  its  ordinary  fenfe,  and  conftrain  it  to  fpeak  the  main 
parts  of  our  own  fcheme.  Thus  a  noble  champion  of 
ours  chofe  once  for  his  fubje^l,  Rom.  viii.  2.  •"  For  the 
'*  law  of  the  Spirit  of  life,  in  Chrift  Jefus,  hath  made  me 
**  free  from  the  law  of  fm  and  death  :"  v/hich  he  explain- 
ed in  this  manner  ;  "  the  law  of  the  Spirit  of  life,"  that 
is,  the  moral  fenfe —  ;  "  in  Chrifi;  Jefus^ — ,"  which  is  the 
fum  of  the  Chriftian  religion,  &:c.  The  advantage  of 
this  way  is,  that  it  is  tearing  the  weapons  out  of  the  hands 
of  the  orthodox,  and  turning  them  againil  themfelves. 
And  it  may  perhaps,  in  time,  have  the  efFe8:  to  make  our 
hearers  affix  our  fenfe  to  their  beloved  Scriptures  ;  or  at 
leaft,  which  is  the  next  thing,  prevent  them  from  being 
pjjle  to  find  anv  other. — However,  I  mull  acknowledge, 
that  this  way  of  doing  is  not  for  every  man's  manage- 
ment ;  and  therefore  I  continue  my  advice  to  the  gene- 
rality, Hill  to  adhere  to  the  rule  as  firft  delivered. 

The  fecond  rule  will  be  eafily  confirmed.  That  duties 
are  to  be  recommended  only  from  "  rational  confidera- 
"  tions."  What  can  be  imagined  niore  foohfli  than  to 
contradict  this  r     If  there  be  any  thing  in  a  lermon  dif- 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics,  123 

ferent  from  rational  confiderations,  it  mufi:  be  irrational, 
that  is  to  fay,  abfurcL  It  is  in  this  part  of  our  fchsme 
that  we  moderate  men  obtain  a  glorious  triumph  over 
our  adverfaries  and  defpifers.  Who  but  muft  fmile, 
when  they  hear  the  contemptible,  vulgar,  ignorant,  hot- 
headed country  elders,  or  filly  v/omen,  led  captive  by 
them  at  their  will,  faying,  they  do  not  love  this  rational 
way  of  going  to  heaven  ! 

But  to  explain  this  method  a  little  further,  the  rational 
way  of  preaching  is  fcmetimes  fet  in  oppofition  to  the 
pathetic  way  of  raifmg  the  paffions.  This  lafl:  is  what  we 
greatly  difapprove  of:  there  is  fomething  immodercite  in 
the  very  idea  of  raifmg  the  paflions ;  and  therefore  it  is 
contrary  to  our  character :  nor  was  it  ever  known,  that  a 
truly  moderate  man  raifed  or  moved  any  afTcdlion  in  his 
hearers,  unlefs  perhaps  the  affedion  of  anger  againil  him- 
felf.  We  leave  that  to  your  vehement  bav/lers,  or  your 
whining  lamenters,  that  ?sq  continually  telling,  "  they 
*'  will  fpend  and  be  fpent"  for  the  f?ivation  of  their  hear- 
ers, which  Lord  ShaftflDury  elegantly  derides,  by  calling 
it  "  the  heroic  paiTion  of  laving  fouls."  And  let  any  un- 
prejudiced perfon  judge,  whether  there  is  not  fomething 
vailly  great,  fomething  like  an  heroic  fortitude  in  that 
man,  that  can  talk  of  future  judgment,  heaven  and  hell, 
with  as  much  coolnefs  a.nd  indifference  as  if  it  were  a 
common  matter.  To  fay  the  truth,  indeed,  we  do  not 
often  meddle  with  thefe  alarminp- themes.  liov/ever,  as 
I  obfervcd  upon  the  firll  mark  of  a  good  preacher,  that 
it  is  glorious  to  rob  the  orthodox  of  a  text,  and  make  ic 
bend  to  our  plan  ;  fo  it  is  alfo  an  uncommon  CKcellence 
to  treat  thefe  fubje£ls  with  calmnefs,  and  to  prove  that  Vve 
ought  to  do  fo.  Thus  a  great  proficient  in  our  way,  lately 
preaching  upon  A£ls  xxiv.  25.  where  Paul  made  Felix 
to  tremble  by  his  difcourfe,  proved  from  it,  that  miniilcrs 
ought  not  to  raife  the  pafTions  of  their  hearers.  An  igno- 
rant obferver  vv^ould  have  thought  that  the  paiuon  of  ter- 
ror Wcis  raifed  in  Felix  to  a  great  degree,  and  that  he  was 
litde  better  than  a  Cambairiang  convict.  But  mark  the 
lucky  exprelTion  our  hero  got  hold  of  :  "  As  he  realbned 


124  Ecclesiastical  Characteristics, 

"  of  rlghteoufnefs,"  &:c.  as  he  reafoned,    that  is,  argued^ 
and  proved  by  rational  confiderations. 

This  example  gives  me  a  fine  opportunity  of  making 
a  kind  of  contrail,  and  fhewing  from  faft,  the  difference 
between  an  orthodox  and  a  moderate  preacher.  I  myfelf 
heard  one  of  the  iirft  kind,  upon  the  text  juil  now  men- 
tioned ;  and  his  firft  obfervation  w^as,  That  the  apoflle 
Paul  was  a  faithful  *'  reprover  ;"  fpeaking  home  to  Felix, 
1.  Of"  righteoufnefs ;"  to  convince  him  of  any  iniquity 
he  had  been  guilty  of  in  his  government.  2,  Of  "  tempe- 
"  ranee  ;"  which  he  faid  lliould  be  tranllated  "  conti- 
*'  nence,"  and  was  probably  intended  as  a  reproof  to  him 
and  Drufilla,  who  were  living  in  adultery.  His  next, 
and  main  obfervation  was,  That  Felix  2was  ''  convidled,'' 
but*^"  ftifled"  his  convidions,  and  delayed  his  repentance, 
faying,  "  Go  thy  way  for  this  time  ;  when  I  have  a  con- 
"  venient  feafon,  I  will  call  for  thee."  Then  followed  a 
great  deal  of  fluff,  which  I  do  not  incline  to  tranfcribe  i^ 
but  it  vras  juil  what  the  vulgar  call  experimental  preach- 
ing, I  fnppofe  to  diitinguifh  it  from  rational. 

But  how  contrary  to  this  did  our  moderate  friend  ?  He 
iirft  obferved,  that  St.  Paul  v/as  a  *'  moral,"  or  a  *'  legal 
*'  preacher;"  difcourfmg  oF  "  righteoufnefs"  and  "  tem- 
*'  perance,"  without  a  v/ord  of  "  faith  :"  and  then,  that 
he  was  a  "  reafoning  preacher,"  that  did  not  flrive  to  raife 
people's  paiTions,  but  informed  their  judgment.  I  was 
indeed  a  little  difappornted  upon  confulting  the  original, 
to  fmd  that  the  word  ufed,  which  is  otocxzyo^ke,  fignifies  only 
*'  continuing  his  difcourfe,"  and  fo  might  be  either  in  the 
"  reafoning"  or  "  pathetic"  way ;  but  I  was  fatisiied  by 
refle6ling,  that  the  word  evidently  includes  both  ;  and  fo 
"  reafoning"  being  the  beft,  it  is  to  be  fuppofed  the  apoflle 
preferred  it. 

Agreeably  to  this  rule.  Lord  Shaftlbury,  and  after  him 
a  bright  luminary  in  our  own  church,  gives  an  advice  to 
all  moderate  clergymen,  not  to  affe6t  that  idle  title  of 
*' arnbaffadors,"  or  *' plenipotentiaries  from  heaven,'^  fo 
fondly  claimed  by  zealots  :  and  I  take  the  liberty  to  fup- 
pofe,  that  the  reafon  of  the  advice  was  the  fame  in  both, 
viz.  "  That  under  this  charader  zealots  put  on  an  air  of 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics,  125 

*'  authority,  and  deliver  their  mefiage  with  a  pathos,  to 
*'  which  they  would  otherwife  have  been  Grangers."  His 
lordfhip  indeed  explodes  the  conceit  fufficiently  ;  he  alks, 
"  Gentlemen,  where  is  your  commiffion  ?  how  has  it  been 
**  conveyed  ?  where  are  the  letters  patent  ?  where  the 
*'  credentials  ?"  with  many  more  queftions,  eafier  for  his 
lordfhip  to  ail^:,  than  for  some  persons  to  anfwer. 

The  third  rule,  viz.  recommending  "  virtue,"  from 
the  authority  and  examples  of  the  Heathens,  is  not  only 
highly  proper,  becaufe  they  were  very  virtuous,  but  hath 
this  manifeil  advantage  attending  it,  that  it  is  a  proper 
way  of  reafoning  to  two  quite  oppofite  kinds  of  perfons. 
One  is,  fach  as  are  real  Chrillians,  who  will  be  afliamed 
by  the  Superior  excellence  of  mere  Heathens,  as  they  call 
them,  and  whom  they  fo  much  defpife*  The  other  is,  our 
prefent  living  heathens,  who  pay  no  regard  to  the  Chrif- 
tian  religion  at  all ;  and  therefore  will  only  be  moved  by 
the  authority  of  the  perfons  they  efteem.  It  is  well  known, 
there  are  multitudes  in  our  ifland,  who  reckon  Socrates 
and  Plato  to  have  been  much  greater  men  than  any  of  the 
apoftles,  although,  as  the  moderate  preacher  I  mentioned 
lately  told  his  hearers)  the  apolile  Paul  had  an  univerfity- 
education,  and  was  inflruQcd  in  logic  by  profeflbr  Gama- 
liel. Therefore  let  religion  be  conftantly  and  uniformly 
called  "  virtue,"  and  let  the  Heathen  philofophers  be  fet 
up  as  the  great  patterns  and  promoters  of  it.  Upon  this 
head,  1  muil  particularly  recommend  M.  Antoninus  by 
name,  becaufe  an  eminent  perfon  of  the  moderate  charac- 
ter fays,  his  m.editations  is  the  best  book  that  ever  was 
written  for  forming  the  heart. 

But  perhaps  the  lafl  part  of  this  third  rule  v/ill  be 
thought  to  need  moil  iiluflration  and  defence,  viz.  That 
none  at  all,  "  or  very  littlo  ufe  is  to  be  made  of  Scripture. 
And  really,  to  deal  plainly,  the  great  reafon  of  this  is,  that 
VQxy  few  of  the  Scripture  motives  and  arguments  are  of 
the  moderate  llamp  ;  the  moft  part  of  them  are  drawn 
from  orthodox  principles  :  for  example,  the  apoflle  Paul 
cannot  even  fay,  "  Hulbands,  love  your  wives,"  but  his 
argument  and  example  comes  in  thefe  words,  "  as  Chrill: 
?'  alfo  loved  the  church."     The  apofile  John  alfo  fpeaks 


126  Ecclesiastical  Characteristics,     . 

in  a  very  myfterious  way,  of  union  with  Chrift,  and  abi- 
ding in  him,  in  order  to  bring  forth  fruit,  which  is  bis  way 
of  fpeaking  for  a  virtuous  life.  Now,  let  any  indilFerent 
perfon  judge,  how  this  kind  of  exprelTlonj  and  others  of  a 
like  nature,  fuch  as  mortifying  the  deeds  of  the  body 
tiirough  the  Spirit,  would  agree  with  the  other  parts  of  our 
difcourfes :  they  would  be  like  oppofite  kinds  of  fluids 
which  will  not  compound ;  they  would  be  quite  heteroge- 
neous, which  is  againft  all  the  rules  of  fme  writing,  and 
hinders  it  from  being  an  uniform,  beautiful,  and  comely 
whole.  Horace,  in  his  Art  of  Poetry,  gives  this  as  his 
very  firft  obfervation, 

*'  Humano  capiti  cervicem  plctor  eqainam 
"  Jungere  fi  velit" 

Which  my  learned  reader  cannot  fail  both  to  remember 
and  underftand,  and  which  I  defire  him  to  apply  to  this 
fLibje61:  we  are  now  upon.  If  it  be  faid,  that  fermons  are 
not  poems,  and  therefore  not  to  be  compofed  by  the  rules 
of  poetry :  I  anfvrer,  it  is  a  miilake ;  many  of  our  fer- 
mons, efpecially  thofe  compofed  by  the  younger  fort 
among  us,  are  poems ;  at  leail  they  are  full  of  poetical 
flights,  which  comes  much  to  the  fame  thing  :  not  to 
mention  that  the  rule  agrees  equally  to  profe  and  poetry. 
How  often  have  I  heard  parts  of  Mr.  Addifon's  Cato, 
Young's  Night-Thoughts,  and  divers  other  poems,  in 
fermons  ?  and,  to  fay  the  truth,  they  were  none  of  the 
worft  parts  of  them..  Hov/ever,  I  would  offer  my  advice, 
as  that  of  a  perfon  of  fomc  experience,  to  all  young 
preachers,  not  to  do  Dr.  Young  the  honor  of  borrowing 
any  thing  from  him  again,  becaufe  he  is  a  fnarling,  fullen, 
gloomy,  melancholy  mortal,  cites  a  great  deal  of  fcripture  ; 
and  particularly,  becaufe  he  has  given  a  vile  fneer  at  the 
praflice  I  am  jufl  now  recommending,  in  the  following 
two  lines  of  his  Univerfal  Paflion. 

When  do6lors  Scripture  for  the  claffics  quit. 
Polite  apoflates  from  God's  grace  to  wit. 

I  have  only  another  advice  to  give  upon  this  head,  and 
|hat  is,  That  xA\cn  our  young  preachers  think  proper  t«» 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics.  ray- 

borrow  from  modern  printed  poems,  they  would  be  pleaf- 
ed  to  tranfpofe  them  a  little,  fo  to  fpeak,  that  they  may 
not  be  too  eafily  difcerned  by  young  gentlemen  who  read 
the  magazines.  Kov/ever,  I  am  in  great  hopes  we  Ihall 
fhortly  be  quite  above  the  necefllty  of  borrowing  from  any 
body,  in  order  to  make  our  fermons  poetry  :  there  are 
fome  perfons  of  genius  among  us,  that  can  make  very 
good  poetry  of  their  own  ;  of  which  I  could  produce  fome 
recent  inilances;  but  I  do  not  think  it  at  prelent  expe- 
dient. 

The  fourth  and  laft  rule  for  a  preacher,  is,  that  he  muft 
be  ''  very  unacceptable  to  the  people."  The  Spectator, 
I  remember,  fome  where  fays,  that  mod  of  the  critics  in 
Great-Britain  feem  to  zdi  as  if  the  firft  rule  of  dramatic 
writing  were  "  not  to  pleafe."  Now,  what  they  make 
the  iirll  rule  of  writing  plays,  I  make  the  lafl  rule  for  com- 
pofmg  fermons  ;  not  as  being  the  leaft,  but  the  m.ofl  im- 
portant. It  is  indeed  the  grand  criterion,  the  mofl  indif- 
penfible  rule  of  all.  Though  one  iliould  pretend  to  ad- 
here to  all  the  former  roles,  and  be  wanting  in  this  alone, 
he  would  be  no  more  than  "  a  founding  brafs,  or  a  tink- 
*'  ling  cymbal  ;'*  pardon  the  expreflion,  the  importance 
of  the  matter  requireth  it.  I  lliall  put  a  cafe  :  fuppofe  a 
man  fhould  have  the  approbation  of  the  very  beft  judges, 
viz.  Thofe  whofe  tafte  we  ourfelves  allow  to  be  good,  if 
at  the  fame  time  he  happens  to  be  acceptable  to  the  com- 
mon people,  it  is  a  fign  that  he  muft  have  fome  fubtile  re- 
fined fault,  which  has  efcaped  the  obfervation  of  the  good 
judges  aforefaid  ;  for  there  is  no  man  even  of  our  own 
fraternity,  fo  perfedl  and  uniform  in  judging  right,  as  the 
comm.on  people  are  in  judging  v/rong. 

I  hope  there  is  little  need  of  affigning  reafons  for  this 
great  characterillic  of  the  art  of  preaching  j  I  fuppofe  it 
will  be  allowed  to  be,  if  not  altogether,  at  leaft  next  to 
felf-evident  :  all  the  feveral  reafons  that  have  been  given 
for  the  particular  maxims  of  moderation,  concur  in  eftab- 
lifliing  this  ;  for  the  people  are  all  declared  enemies  of 
moderation,  in  its  principles  and  prac?iice  ;  and  there- 
fore if  moderation  be  right,  they  muft  be  wrong.  There 
is  a  known  ftory  of  a  Heathen  orator,  who,  when  the  com- 


J  a  8  .Ecclesiastical  Characteristics, 

mon  people  gave  a  fhout  of  applaiife,  during  his  pro- 
nouncing an  oration,  immediately  turned  about  to  a  friend, 
and  all<:ed  him,  what  miftake  he  had  committed.  Now 
if  an  audience  of  vulgar  Heathens  was  allowed  to  be  fo 
infallibly  wrong  in  their  judgment,  the  fame  thing  mull 
hold,  "  a  fortiori,"  in  an  audience  of  vulgar  Chriftians. 

From  this  it  evidently  follows,  that  a  popular  preach- 
er effentially  fignifies  a  bad  preacher ;  and  it  is  always 
fo  underllood  by  us,  whenever  we  ufe  the  expreffion. 
If  we  but  hear  it  reported  of  any  one,  that  he  is  very 
popular  among  the  lower  fort,  we  are  under  no  difficul- 
ty of  giving  his  chara^ler,  without  having  heard  him 
preach  oarfelves.  In  this  cafe,  fame  is  a  certain  guide 
to  truth,  by  being  inverted  ;  for  we  deteil  and  defpife 
him,  preciiely  in  the  fame  proportion  that  the  people  ad- 
mire him.  On  the  other  hand,  the  truly  moderate  man 
is  not  only  above  the  applaufe  of  the  multitude,  but  he 
glories  in  their  hatred,  and  rejoices  in  himfelf,  in  pror 
portion  as  he  has  been  fo  happy  as  to  provoke  and  dif- 
oblige  them.  Of  this  I  could  give  feveral  notable  exr 
am  pies,  were  it  not  that  it  muft  certainly  offened  their 
modeily,  not  only  to  praife  them  in  print,  but  even  to 
publifh  their  highefl  virtues. 

But  now,  upon  the  whole,  as  a  great  critic  obferves, 
that  there  is  fometimes  more  beauty  Ihovvn  in  a  compofi- 
tion,  by  receding  from  the  rules  of  art,  when  an  impor- 
tant point  is  to  be  gained,  than  by  ftridlly  adhering  to 
them  ;  fo,  all  thefe  rules  notwithftanding,  it  Ihall  be  al- 
lowable for  any  moderate  man,  upon  an  extraordinary 
emergency,  to  break  them  for  a  good  end :  as  for  in- 
ilance,  he  may  fpeak  even  in  Whitefield's  ftyle,  when 
his  fettlcment  has  the  misfortune  to  depend  upon  the  peo- 
ple ;   which  I  have  known  done  with  good  fuccefs.     We 

are  alfo  well  fatisfied,  that  Mr.  T r  of  Norwich,  and 

fuch  like  hrft-rate  writers,  fhould  make  pompous  collec- 
tions of  Scripture-texts,  as  their  truly  laudable  intention 
is,  by  altering  Chrillianity,  to  reconcile  it  to  moderation 
and  common  fenfe  ;  and  to  find  out  a  meaning  to  words, 
which  the  writers  of  them,  as  living  in  the  infancy  of  the 
church,  had  not  difcernmeiU  enough  to  intend. 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics,  129 

'  To  conclude  this  maxim,  it  ivould  be  too  formal  for 
me,  and  too  tedious  to  the  reader,  to  enumerate  all  the 
objeclions  that  are,  by  fome,  raifed  againft  our  way  of 
preaching  :  I  Ihall  therefore  mention  but  one,  and  Ihow 
it  is  falfe  ;  hoping  that  the  reader  will  fuppofe,  there  is 
no  more  foundation  for  any  of  the  reft.  It  is  alledged, 
there  is  no  method  in  our  difcourfes,  but  that  they  con- 
fift  in  random  flights,  and  general  declamations.  No- 
thing more  untrue.  The  polite  reader,  or  hearer,  knows 
that  there  may  be  an  excellent  and  regular  ni;ethod,  where 
there  are  no  formal  diftin(Slions  of  firfUy,  fecondly,  and 
thirdly  :  but,  to  cut  off  all  occafion  of  cavil,  let  the  world 
hereby  know,  that  one  of  our  moft  famed  preachers  chofe 
once  for  his  text,  John  xi.  29.  and  of  that  verfe  the 
following  words,  "  He  flinketh.""  He  obferved,  we  had 
there  (or  thereabouts^  a  defcription  of  the  threefold  flate 
of  a  bad  man :  firft,  he  fickened  ;  fecondly  he  died ; 
thirdly,  he  ftank.  This  I  take  to  have  been  an  accuracy 
in  point  of  method,  te  which  it  Vv^iil  not  be  eafy  to  find  a 
parallel. 

MAXIM    V, 

A  minifter  muft  endeavor  to  acquire  as  pfreat  a  degree 
of  politenefs,  in  his  carriage  and  behavior,  and  to 
catch  as  much  of  the  air  and  manner  of  a  fine  gentle- 
man, as  pofTibly  he  can. 

This  is  ufually  a  diftinguifliing  mark  between  the  mo- 
derate and  the  orthodox  ;  and  how  much  we  have  the  ad- 
vantage in  it  is  extremely  obvious.  Good  maimers  is 
-undoubtedly  the  moft  excellent  of  all  accompliihments, 
and  in  fome  meafure  fupplies  the  place  of  them  all  when 
they  arc  wanting.  And  furely  nothing  can  be  more  ne- 
cefTary  to,  or  more  ornamental  and  becoming  in  a  mi- 
nifter  :  it  gains  him  eafy  accefs  into  the  world,  and  frees 
him  from  that  rigid  fe verity  which  renders  many  of  them 
fo  odious  and  deteftable  to  the  polite  part  of  it.  In  for- 
mer times,  minillers  were  fo  monklfh  and  reclufe,  for 
ordinar5%  and  fo  formal  when  they  did  happen  to  appear, 
that  all  the  jovial  part  of  mankind,  particula^'lv  rakes  an4 

Vol.  HI'.  R 


130  Ecclesiastical  Characicristics, 

libertines,  fhunned  and  fled  from  them  ;  or,  when  una- 
voidably thrown  into  their  company,  were  conflrained, 
and  had  no  kind  of  confidence  to  repole  in  them  :  where- 
as now,  let  a  moderate,  modern,  well-bred  miniller  go 
into  promifcuous  company,  they  ftand  in  no  manner  of 
awe,  and  will  even  fwear  with  all  imaginable  liberty. 
This  gives  the  minifler  an  opportunity  of  underflanding 
their  character,  and  of  perhaps  fometimes  reafoning  in 
an  eafy  and  genteel  manner  againfl:  fwearing.  This, 
though  indeed  it  feldom  reforms  them,  yet  it  is  as  feldom 
taken  amifs  ;  which  fhows  the  counfel  to  have  been  ad- 
miniflered  with  prudence. 

How  is  it  poilible  that  a  minifter  can  underiland  v/ick- 
ednefs,  unlefs  he  either  pradlifes  it  hirnfelf  (but  much  of 
that  will  not  yet  pafs  in  the  world)  or  allows  the  wicked  to 
be  bold  in  his  prefence  ?  To  do  otherwife,  would  be  to  do 
in  practice  what  I  have  known  narrow-minded  bigotted 
iiudents  do  as  to  fpeculation,  viz.  avoid  reading  their  ad- 
verfaries  books  becaufe  they  were  erroneous  ;  whereas  it 
is  evident  no  error  can  be  refuted  till  it  be  underllood. 

The  fetting  the  different  chara^ers  of  miniRers  in  im- 
mediate oppofition,  will  put  this  matter  paft  all  doubt,  as 
the  fun  of  truth  rifmg  upon  the  ilars  of  error,  darkens 
and  makes  them  to  difappear.  Some  there  are,  v/ho  may 
be  eafily  known  to  be  minifters,  by  their  very  drefs,  their 
grave  demure  looks,  and  their  confined  preclfe  converfa- 
tion.  How  contemptible  is  this  !  and  how  like  to  fome 
of  the  meaneli:  employments  among  us  ;  as  failors,  who 
are  known  by  their  rolling  walk,  and  taylors,  by  the  flii- 
vering  Ihrug  of^  their  ilioulders  !  But  our  truly  accom- 
pliflied  clergy  put  off  fo  entirely  every  thing  that  is  peculi- 
ar to  their  profeffion,  that  were  you  to  fee  them  in  the 
Ilrects,  meet  with  them  at  a  vifit,  or  fpend  an  evening  with 
theni  in  a  tavern,  you  would  not  once  fufpe^l  them  for 
men  of  that  charaftcr.  Agreeably  to  this,  I  remember 
an  excellent  thing  faid  by  a  gentleman,  in  commendation 
of  a  minifler,  that  "  he  had  nothing  at  all  of  the  clergy- 
*'  man  about  him." 

I  fhall  have  done  with  this  maxim,  when  I  have  given  my 
advice  as  to  the  method  of  attaining  to  it ;  which  is,  That 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics,  131 

ftudents,  probationers,  and  you n,^  clergymen,  while  their 
bodies  and  minds  are  yet  flexible,  Ihould  converle,  and  keep 
company,  as  much  as  may  be,  with  officers  of  the  army  un- 
der five  and  twenty,  of  v/hom  there  are  no  fniali  number 
in  the  nation,  and  with  young  gentlemen  of  fortune,  par- 
ticularly,ifuch  as,  by  the  early  and  happy  death  of  their 
parents,  have  come  to  their  eilates  before  they  arrived  at 
the  years  of  majority.  Scarce  one  of  thefe  but  is  a  noble 
pattern  to  form  upon  ;  for  they  have  had  the  opportunity 
of  following  nature,  which  is  the-all-comprehenrtve  rule 
of  the  ancients,  and  of  acquiring  a  free  manner  of  think- 
ing, fpeaking,  and  adli  ng,  v/ithout  either  the  pedantry  of 
learning,  or  the  ftifFnefs  contra6led  by  a  flrid:  adherence 
to  the  maxims  of  worldly  prudence. 

After  all,  I  [relieve  I  might  have  fpared  mj^felf  the  trou- 
ble of  inferting  this  maxim,  the  prefent  rifuig  generation 
being  of  themselves  fufficiently  difpofed  to  obferve  it. 
This  I  reckon  they  have,  either  conllitutionally,  or  per- 
haps have  learned  it  from  the  inimitable  Lord  Shaftibury, 
who,  in  fo  lively  a  manner  fets  forth  the  evil  of  univerli- 
ties,  and  recommends  converfation  with  the  polite  Peri» 
patetics,  as  the  only  way  of  arriving  at  true  knowledge, 

MAXIM      VI. 

It  is  not  only  unnecelTaryfor  a  moderate  man  to  have  much 
learning,  but  he  ought  to  be  filled  v/ith  a  contempt  of 
all  kinds  of  learning  but  one  ;  which  is,  to  underlland 
Leibnitz's  fcheme  well  ;  the  chief  parts  of  which  are 
fo  beautifully  painted,  and  fo  harmoniouily  fung  by  Lord 
Shaftibury,  and  which  has  been  fo  well  licked  into  form 
and  method  by  the  late  immortal  Mr.  H n. 

This  maxim  is  neceflary,  becaufe  without  it  the  former 
could  not  be  "attained  to.  Much  ftudy  is  a  great  enemy 
to  politenefs  in  men,  jufi:  as  a  great  care  of  houfliold  af- 
fairs fpoils  the  free  carelefs  air  of  a  fine  lady  :  and  whether 
politenefs  is  to  be  facrificed  to  learning,  let  the  imparfml 
world  judge.  Befides  the  fcheme  v/hich  1  have  permit - 
ted  the  moderate  man  to  fiudy,  doth  a£lually  fupevfede  the 


132  Ecclesiastical  Characteristic^. 

nfe  of  all  other  learning,  becaufe  it  contains  a  knowledge 
of  the  whole,  and  the  good  of  the  whole  ;  more  than 
which,  I  hope,  will  be  allowed  to  be  not  only  needlefs, 
but  impoffible. 

This  fcheme  excels  in  brevity ;  for  it  may  be  iinder- 
ftood  in  a  very  Ihort  time  ;  which,  I  fuppofe,  prompted 
a  certain  clergyman  to  fay,  that  any  fludent  might  get  as 
much  divinity  as  he  would  ever  have  occafion  for  in  fix 
weeks.  It  is  alfo  quite  agreeable  to  the  improvements 
that  have  been  made  in  arts  and  fciences  of  late  years  ; 
lor  every  thing  is  nov/  more  compendioufly  taught,  and 
more  fuperficially  underflood,  than  formerly,  and  yet  as 
well  and  better  to  all  tlie  purpofes  of  life.  In  the  very- 
mechanic  arts,  laborious  diligence  gives  way  to  elegance 
and  eafe  ;  as  the  lumpifli,  ftrong,  old  Gothic  buildings, 
to  rrrore  genteel,  though  flighter,  modern  ones.  There 
have  been  fchemes  publiflied  for  teaching  children  to  read 
by  way  of  diverfion.  Ever}^  year  gives  us  a  fliorter  me- 
thod of  learning  fome  branch  of  knowledge.  In  fhort,  in 
thefe  laft  days  the  qainteiTence  of  every  thing  has  been 
extr?c6led,  and  is  prefented  us,  as  it  were,  in  little  phi- 
als ;  fo  that  we  may  come  to  ail  learning  by  one  aft  of  in- 
tuition. Aofrceable  to  all  this,  have  we  not  feen  in  fa6t, 
many  ftudents  of  divinity  brought  up  in  hot-beds,  who 
have  become  fpeakers  in  general  affemblies,  and  ftrenuous 
fupporters  of  a  falling  church,  beibre  their  beards  were 
grown,  to  the  perfe6l  aflonifhment  of  an  obferving 
world. 

I  muft  alfo  obferve,  that  there  is  a  providential  iitnefs 
of  that  fcheme,  in  another  refpeft,  for  the  prefent  age  and 
timiC.  When  the  fees  of  colleges,  and  ex  pence  of  board- 
ing is  raifed  ;  when  the  rate  of  living  is  quite  altered,  and 
when  afpiteful  and  landed  intereft,  and  a  heedlcfs  parli- 
ament, have  refufed  to  grant  any  augmentation  to  our  lli- 
pends  ;  there  is  no  other  way  reiiiains  for  us,  but  to  cheap- 
en our  education,  by  taking  lefs  tim.e  to  it,  and  arriving 
at  the  point  defigned  hy  a  nearer  cut.  Then  there  will 
be  no  need  at  all  for  the  critical  lludy  of  the  Scriptures, 
for  reading  large  bodies  of  divinity,  for  an  acquaintance 
y/ith  church-hiftory,  or  the  writings  of  thole  poor  crea- 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics,  133 

tures  the  Chriftian  fathers  :  but  all  is  abforbed  into  the 
good  of  the  whole  :  of  which  I  may  fay,  ferioufly  and 
foberly,  ^yhat  Dr.  Tillotfon  fays  ironically  of  tranfubftan- 
tiation,  that  it  is  not  only  true,  but  it  is  all  truth,  and  will 
not  fufier  any  thing  to  be  true  but  itfelf. 

We  find  that  moderate  men  have  moftly,  by  conftitu- 
tion,  too  much  fpirit  to   fubmit  to  the  drudgery  of  the 
kinds  of  learning  above-mentioned,  and  defpife  all  who 
do  fo.     There  is  no  controverfy  now  about  Arian,   Armi- 
nian,   Pelagian,   or  Socinlan  tenets,  but  only  whether  this 
good  of-the-whole  fcheme  holds.     This  fnews,  by  the  by, 
the  injuflice  and  malignity  of  thofe  poor  beings  the  Sece- 
ders,   who  cry  out  of  erroneous  dodlrines  in  the  church, 
and  aflerc,  that  Arminianifm  is  publicly  taught  by  many. 
It  is  known,   that  they  mean  by  the  moderate  men,   when 
they  fpeakfo;  and  yet  I  will  venture  to  affirm,  that  there  are 
not  a  few  young  men  of  that  character,  who,  if  they  were 
ailced,  could  not  tell  what  the  five  Arminian  articles  are,  fo 
little  do  they  regard  Arminianifm.     I  myfelf,   the  reader 
will  perceive,  know  the  number  of  them ;   but  vvhetlier  I 
know  any  more   about  them  or  not,   I  fliall  preferve  as  a 
fecret  in  my  own  mind.     It  will  perhaps  be  obje6:ed  a- 
gainfl:  this  maxim,  That   the  moderate  party  commonly 
fet  up  on  a  pretence  of  being  more  learned  than  their  ad- 
verfaries  ;   and  are,  in  fa6l,  thought  to  be  very  learned  in 
their  fermons   by  the   vulgar,   who,  for  that  reafon  hate 
them.     Now,    as  to  their  pretending  to  be  more  learned 
than  their  adverfarics,  it  is  moil  jufl  ;   for  they  have,   as 
has  been  fliown,    got  hold  of  the  fum-total  of  learning,  al- 
though they  did  not  calculate  it  themfelves.     And  as   to 
their  being  thought  learned  in  their  fermons  by  the  vulgar, 
it  is  fufficient  for  that  purpofe  that  they  be  unintelligible. 
Scattering  a  few  phraf:-^s  in  their  fermons,   as  harmony, 
order,  proportion,   tafte,   fenfe  of  beauty,  bala.nce  of  the 
alFeclions,   Sec.   will  eafily  perfuade  the  people   tliat  they 
are  learned  :   and  this  perfuafion  is,  to  all  intents  and  pur- 
pofes,  the  fame  thing  as   if  it   v/ere  true.     It  is   one   of 
thofe  deceitful    feelings  which  Mr.  H — ,   in  his  Effavs, 
has  fhewn  to  be  fo  beautiful  and  ufeful.     Thete  phrafes 
they  may  eafily  get  in  books  not  above  the  fize  of  an  o6\^- 


134  Ecclesiastical  Characteristics. 

vo ;  and  if  they  incline  to  be  very  deep,  they  may  get 
abundance  of  citations  from  the  ancient  Heathen  authors 
in  Cud  worth's  intelledluai  Syflem,  and  niollly  tranflated 
to  their  hand. 

I  Ihall  now  fubjoin  a  iliort  catalogue  of  the  mofl  necef- 
fary  and  ufeful  books,  the  thorough  underfianding  of 
which  will  make  a  truly  learned  moderate  man :  Leib- 
nitz's Theodicea,  and  his  letters,  Shaftefbury's  Charac- 
terifi-ics,  Collins's  Inquiry  into  Human  Liberty,    all  Mr. 

H n's  pieces,    ChriiUanitv    as    old  as  the  Creation, 

D— n's  Seft  Scheme,  and  H— 's  Moral  Elfays*.  The 
two  l?Jl  are  Scots  authors  :  and  it  is  with  pleafure  I  can 
ail'ure  my  countrymen,  they  are  by  far  the  m.oll  perfect 
of  them  all,  carrying  the  ccnfequence  of  the  fcheme  to 
the  moft  ravifhing  height.  As  to  poetry,  it  will  be  fuffi- 
cient  to  read  *'  the  Pieafures  of  the  Imagination,"  and 
"  the  Tragedy  of  Agis,"  if  ii  be  publifhed ;  becaufe  in  it 
dramatic  poetry  is  carried  to  the  fummit  of  perfedion  : 
and  it  is  believed,  by  the  author's  friends,  that  there  never 
will  be  a  tragedy  publiflied  after  it,  unlefs  by  fomebody 
that  is  delirious.  But  v/hether  the  knowledge  of  this 
^iFed,  and  the  compalTion  thence  arifmg  to  future  authors, 

*  It  hath  been  fuggefted  to  me,  that  another  author  of  our  own 
country  ought  to  have  been  added  to  the  above  catalogue ;  but  I 
judged  it  improper,  fcr  two  reafons.  One  is,  that  I  do  not  find  that 
author  in  fo  hi-jh  efteem  among  the  moderate,  as  to  deferve  a  place 
in  fo  very  nice  and  chofen  a  collection.  But  the  other,  and  principal 
reafon  is,  that  the  author  here  intended,  profeHeth  himfelf  a  fceptic  ; 
the  meaning  of  which,  if  I  underftand  it  right,  is,  either  that  he  does 
not  believe  there  is  any  fuch  thing  as  truth,  or  ihat  he  himfelf  is  but 
fecking  after  truth,  and  has  not  yet  found  it.  Now  this  is  by  no 
means  tlic  cafe  witli  the  moderate,  who  are  already  in  poileiTion  of  the 
♦*  ne  plus  ultra**  of  human  knowledge.  For  thoug'h  fome  of  tlieir  doc- 
trines are  changeable,  by  reafon  of  the  effential  difference  of  perfons, 
things  and  times ;  yet,  during  the  period  of  any  dodlrine,  I  have  no 
■where  known  ftronger,  or  feverer  dogmatifls  ;  as  appears  from  their 
ne^^lecl  of  farther  inquiry,  and  fovereign  contempt  of  all  oppofeis. — - 
In  a  certain  univerfity,  about  f^ven  years  ago  (how  it  is  nov/,  I  cannot 
fo  certainly  tell)  if  a  man  had  fj^^oken  honorably  of  Dr.  Samuel  Claike, 
it  cannot  be  conceived  with  w{\at  derifion  he  was  treated  by  every 
boy  of  fixteen,  who  was  wifer  thki  to  pay  any  regard  to  fuch  a  numi' 
fcul,  an  enemy  to  the  doclrine  of  necelTity,  and  wholly  ignorant  of 
the  moral  fenfc. 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics,  135 

may  not,  in  a  perfon  of  fo  much  humility  and  felf-denial, 
and  of  fo  confummats  and  difmtereiled  benevolence,  as 
that  theatrical  divine,  wholly  prevent  the  publication,  I 
cannot  tell ;  and  therefore  mull  leave  it  to  be  brought 
forth  by  the  midwife  Occafion,  from  the  womb  of  time*- 
But  to  give  a  ftill  higher  proof  of  my  deep  concern  for 
the  improvement  and  edification  of  ingenuous  youth,  I 
have  taken  the  pains  to  extrad  very  faithfully  the  fum 
and  fubftance  of  the  above  library,  and  do  here  prefent  it 
to  the  world,  under  a  name  which  is  not  without  a  mean- 
ingj  though  not  intelligible  to  all,  viz. 

The  Athenian  Creed. 

I  believe  in  the  beauty  and  comely  proportions  of 
Dame  Nature,  and  in  almighty  Fate,  her  only  parent  and 
guardian  ;  for  it  hadi  been  moR  gracioully  obliged  (blef- 
fed  be  its  name)  to  make  us  all  very  good.  , 

I  believe  that  the  univerfe  is  a  huge  machine,  wound 
up  from  ■  everlafting  by  neceffity,  and  confifting  of  an  in- 
finite number  of  links  and  chains,  each  in  a  progreflive 
motion  towards  the  zenith  of  perfection,  and  meridian  of 
glory ;  that  1  myfelf  am  a  little  glorious  piece  of  clock- 
work, a  wheel  within  a  wheel,  or  rather  a  pendalum  in 
this  grand  machine,  fwinging  hither  and  thither  by  the 
different  impulfes  of  fate  and  deftiny ;  that  my  foul  (if  I 
have  any)  is  an  imperceptible  bundle  of  exceeding  mi- 
nute corpufcles,muchfmaller  than  the  fineft  Holland  land ; 
and  that  certain  perfons  in  a  very  eminent  ftation,  are 
nothing  elfe  but  a  huge  colledion  of  neceffary  agents,  who 
can  do  nothing  at  all. 

I  believe  that  there  is  no  ill  in  the  univerfe,  nor  any 
fuch  thing  as  virtue  abfolately  confidered ;  that  thole 
things  vulgarly  called  fins,  are  only  errors  in  th^  judg- 
ment, and  foils  to  fet  oft  the  beauty  of  Nature,  or  patches 
to  adorn  her  face  ;  that  the  whole  race  of  intelligent  be- 
ings, even  the  devils  tkemfelves  (if  there  are  any)  Ihail 
finally  be  happy ;  fo  that  Judas  Ifcariot  is  by  this  time  a 

*   Agis,  a  tragedy,  was  publifhcd  in  the  year  175^. 


136  .Ecclesiastical  Characteristics. 

glorified  faint,  and  it  is  good  for  him  that  he  hath  been 
born. 

In  fine,  I  believe  in  the  divinity  of  L.  S -,  the  faint- 

ihip  of  Marcus  Antoninus,   the  perfpicuity  and  fublimity 

of  A e,  and  the  perpetual  duration  of  Mr.  H n's 

works,  notv/ithflanding  their  prefent  tendency  to  oblivion. 
Amen. 

MAXIM      VII. 

A  moderate  man  muft  endeavor,  as  much  as  he  hand- 
fomely  can,  to  put  off  any  appearances  of  devotion, 
and  avoid  all  unneceffary  exercifes  of  religious  vvorfhip, 
whether  public  or  private. 

I  fully  intended,  upon  this  part  of  my  fubjedl,  to  have 
been  at  fome  pains  in  fliewing  the  great  indecency  of  a 
gra.ve  and  apparently  ferious  carriage,  or  of  introducing 
any  religious  fubjedl  of  converfaticn  into  promifcuous 
company  :  but  when  I  confider  how  fuccefsfuily  all  vilible 
religion  was  attacked,  both  by  wits  and  preachers,  imme- 
diately after  the  reftoration  of  King  Charles  II.  how  con- 
ftantly  any  difpofition  of  this  fort  hath  been  borne  down 
by  all  men  of  tafte  ever  fmce  that  time,  which  is  now  near 
a  whole  century ;  as  alfo  how  feldom  any  religious  dif- 
courfe  is  to  be  met  with  at  this  day,  either  among  clergy 
or  laity,  I  fhall  only  rejoice  in  myfelf,  and  congratulate 
my  reader,  upon  the  purity  of  the  times,  and  proceed  to 
the  other  part  of  the  maxim. 

Now,  as  to  the  public  exercife  of  religious  worfhip ; 
although  a  certain  meafure  of  them  is  reafonable  enough, 
and  though  the  office  by  which  we  have  our  bread,  obliges 
us  to  be  often  engaged  in  them ;  yet  a  truly  moderate 
man,  Vv'ithout  renouncing  his  calling,  has  it  in  his  power 
to  pare  off  a  great  many  fuperfluities  with  which  the  or- 
thodox clergy  are  apt  to  overload  religion,  and  render  it 
unpalatable  to  the  polite  world. 

Bein^  members  of  church-judicatures,  and,  we  hope, 
the  majority  in  mod  of  them,  the  moderate  party  can  dif- 
gourage  and  ftifle  all  motions  for  extraordinary  falb  or 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics,  137 

hankfgivings  ;  which  experience  has  taught  us  ferve  only 
to  promote  idlenels,  and  difcoiirage  induflry.  Upon  the 
clay  that  Henry  V.  fought  at  Agincoiirt,  a  folemn  fail  was 
kept  in  England  for  his  fuccefs ;  and  fome  hiftorians  are 
pleafed  to  fay,  that  the  prayers  of  the  nation  had  fome 
fliare  in  procuring  the  victory ;  but  later  hillories  have 
difproved  this ;  and  now  it  can  be  demonitrated  upon 
paper,  that  a  faft  day  in  Scotland  lofes  50,000  1.  to  the 
nation,  while  no  body  can  make  any  calculation  what  it 
wins.  For  this  reafon,  it  was  very  refrefliing  to  hear,  as 
as  we  did  lately,  that  even  in  the  moil  diftant  and  norther- 
ly corners  of.  this  country,  there  is  a  fet  of  clergy  of  an 
heroic  fpirit,  who  are  refolved  to  reform  their  people,  and 
beat  them  out  of  that  unpolite  and  barbarous  inclination, 
which  many  of  them  ftill  retain,  of  hearing  fermons. 

With  a  view  to  the  fame  good  end,  we  can  curtail  our 
hufmefs  at  home,  both  as  to  the  number  and  length  of  our 
pulpit  performances.  In  our  own  families,  though  it 
would  not  perhaps  yet  be  convenient  to  imitate  the  beau 
monde  fo  very  C[uickly,  in  difcarding  the  worfhip  of  God 
altogether;  yet  we  may,  by  degrees,  fometimes  omit  it, 
through  hurry  of  bufinefs,  at  other  times  be  dropping, 
now  and  then  at  Icaft,  fome  parts  of  it ;  and  in  gentle- 
men's families,  take  care  to  give  difcreet  intimations  that 
we  do  not  incline  to  put  them  out  of  their  ordinary  way, 
or  occafion  the  lead  interruption  to  the  mirth  of  the  com- 
pany. 

Sometimes  indeed  it  may  happen,  by  a  concurrence 
of  circumftances,  that  one  of  us  may,  at  bed  time,  be  un- 
equally yoked  with  an  orthodox  brother,  who  may  propofe 
a  little  unfeafonable  devotion  between  ourfelves,  before 
we  lie  down  to  fleep :  but  there  are  twenty  ways  of 
throwing  cold  water  upon  fach  a  motion  ;  or,  if  it  fhould 
be  infilled  upon,  I  could  recommend  a  moderate  way  of 
complying  with  it,  from  the  example  of  one  of  our  friends, 
who,  on  a  like  occafion,  yielded  fo  far,  that  he  ftood  up  at 
the  back  of  a  chair,  and  faid,  "  O  Lord,  we  thank  thee 
*'  for  Mr.  B.iyle's  Diclionary.  Amen."  This  was  fo 
far  from  fpoiling  good  company,  that  it  contributed 
wonderfully  to  promote  fecial  mirth,  and  fweetened  the 

Vol.  III.  S 


138  Ecclesiastical  Characteristics, 

young  men  in  a  mofl  agreeable  manner  for  their  reft.'  1  ■ 
Whatever  is  forced  is  unnatural,  and  ought  to  be  avoid- 
ed ;  and  therefore,  what  the  Puritan  faid  of  fquare  caps, 
we  may  apply  to  many  modes  of  devotion,  "  That  he 
*'  would  not  wear  them,  becaufe  his  head  was  round." 

The  neceflity  of  fuch  a  condu6t  cannot  be  denied, 
when  it  is  confidered  what  effect  the  length  and  frequency 
of  public  devotion  has  had  in  driving  moil  of  the  fafliion- 
a.ble  gentry  from  our  churches  altogether ;  and  that  even 
fuch  of  them  as  Hill  vouchfafe  their  company  fometimes, 
are  yet  driven  away  from  the  facrament  of  the  Lord's 
fupper,  where  the  fervice  is  expefted  to  be  more  tedious 
and  tirefome.  Now,  the  only  way  to  regain  them  to  the 
d:iurch,  is  to  accommodate  the  worfliip,  as  much  as  may 
be,  to  their  tafte  :  the  manner  of  doing  which  is  fo  well 
known,  that  I  will  not  fpend  time  in  explaining  it. 

I  confefs  there  has  been  fometimes  an  ugly  obje6lion 
thrown  up  againfl  this  part  of  my  argument,  viz.  That 
this  defertion  of  public  worfliip  by  thofe  in  high  life, 
leems,  in  fa6l,  to  be  contemporary  v/ith,  and  to  increafe, 
in  a  pretty  exa6l  proportion,  to  the  attempts  that  have 
been,  and  are  made  to  fuit  it  to  their  tafle.  It  is  alledged, 
that  they  are  led  to  fuch  a  condu6l,  not  by  the  did;ates  of 
their  reafon,  but  by  the  depravation  of  their  hearts  ;  and 
therefore  make  ufe  of  the  behaviour  of  the  clergy,  as  an 
excufe  and  juflification  of  their  condu6l.  In  anfvver  to 
this  obje6lion,  I  (hall  not  pretend  to  fay  v/hat  ufe  gentle- 
men may  fometimes  make  of  our  conduiSt,  for  1  have 
known  them  often  very  prepoflerous  in  their  judgment, 
condemning  others  for  what  they  freely  indulge  in  them- 
felves,  and  no  lefs  unthankful,  rendering  evil  for  good. 
But  dill  I  fay,  there  remains  no  ftrength  in  the  objedion 
to  a  man  of  moderate  principles  :  for  it  plainly  comes 
much  to  the  fame  thing  at  laft,  whether  the  mountain 
comes  to  the  moufe,  or  the  moufe  to  the  mountain.  If  I 
fhould  meet  a  friend  half-way,  that  had  got  at  a  diflance 
from  me,  though  he  fliould  not  move  a  foot,  lam  fure  we 
fliould  be  nearer  one  another,  than  if  I  had  kept  my  place 
5is  well  as  he. 


Ecclcsiasiicai  Characteristics.  139 

But  whatever  be  in  this,  I  mud  acknowledge,  that  to 
be  conftantly  whining  and  praying,  looks  fo  extremely 
orthodox-like,  that  I  cannot  help  conceiving  a  prejudice 
at  it,  for  this  very  reafon  ;  and  I  doubt  not  but  every  mo- 
derate man,  will  have  the  very  fame  fellow-feeling.  In 
truth,  a  great  abundance  of  devotion  has  fuch  a  tendency  to 
inflame  one  with  zeal,  that  any  man  who  would  maintain 
his  moderation,  had  beft  keep  out  of  the  reach  of  fuch  in- 
fnaring  influence.  Befides,it  has  been  an  old  remark,  and  I 
begin  to  fufpedl  ther-e  is  fome  ground  for  it,  that  let  one 
embrace  what  fyilem  of  divinity  he  will,  it  is  impoffible 
to  pray  but  according  to  the  orthodox  fyilem.  And 
whatever  laudable  pains  had  been  taken,  by  fome  of  our 
friends,  to  avoid  this  inconvenience ;  yet,  from  what  I 
have  obferved,  in  the  moft  fuccefsful  of  them,  I  mvAl 
own,  I  can  at  pre  fen  t  fee  no  other  remedy  but  to  deal  as 
little  that  way  as  poffible, 

MAXIM    VIII. 

In  church-fettlemcnts,  which  are  the  principal  caufes 
that  come  before  minifters  for  judgment,  the  only  thing 
to  be  regarded  is,  who  tha  patron  and  the  great  and 
noble  heritors  are  for ;  the  inclinations  of  the  common 
people  are  to  be  utterly  defpifed. 

That  this  maxim  is  invariably  obferved  by  all  mode- 
rate men  is  certain,  and  may  be  attelled  by  all  that  ever 
were  prefent  at  a  General  Affembly  of  this  national 
church.  The  cafe  is  not  nov/  as  formerly,  when  pre- 
fentations  were  held  a  grievance  ;  for  a  prefentation  is 
*'  all  in  all"  to  a  moderate  man  :  and  when  there  is  no 
prefentation,  the  greatnefs  and  nobility  of  the  heritors  zr^ 
upon  one  fide.  I  was  witnefs  once  to  a  caufe  (whicli  in- 
deed unhappily  mifcarried)  but  there  was  a  noble  ftaud 
made  for  it  by  the  moderate  party,  becaufe  there  was  a 
lord  upon  the  fide  of  the  minority,  although  he  had  no 
interefl  at  all  in  the  parifh,  but  a  fmall  bk  of  ground 
which  he  had  got  from  a  neiv^hbour,  in  order  to, run  a  dike 


140  Ecclesiastical  Characteristics, 

ftraigbt.  This  appearance  greatly  rejoiced  me,  as  being 
a  token  to  what  perfedion  the  fpirit  of  moderation  was 
arrived. 

There  are  many  reafons  upon  which  this  maxim  is 
founded  ;  as  the  implacable  hatred  we  bear  to  the  elders 
and  common  people,  and  their  conllant  wrong  judgment, 
wdiich  has  been  illuilrated  above.  As  this  is  fo  very 
evident,  I  cannot  pafs  it,  without  expreffing  my  grief 
and  afloniflmient,  that  fo  clear-fighted  an  author,  and  in 
all  refpe6is  fo  agreeable  to  our  fentiments,  as  Lord 
Shaftlbury,  lliould  have  faid,  in  his  ElTay  on  the  freedom 
of  Wit  and  Humor,  that,  *'  it  belongs  to  men  of  flaviih 
"'  principles  to  affed  a  fuperiority  over  the  vulgar,  and 
"  to  defpife  the  multitude."  This  hath  made  me  doubt 
the  truth  of  an  aflertion  of  Mr.  G.  L.  one  of  our  own 
difciples,  "  that  perfection  is  attainable  in  this  life  ;"  for, 
if  ever  any  one  attained  to  perfe6lion,  furely  Lord  Shaftf- 
bury  was  the  man.  But,  to  leiFen  the  difficulty  a  little, 
it  is  probable  he  had  fomething  in  his  view,  quite  dif- 
ferent from  fettling  of  kirks,  when  he  wrote  in  this  man- 
ner ;  for  had  he  lived  to  our  times,  and  been  an  heritor 
in  Scotland,  I  can  hardly  allow  myfelf  to  think,  that 
ever  he  would  have  appeared  on  the  fide  of  the  Chriftian 
people  ;  though,  w^ithout  all  queftion,  he  would  have  been 
chofen  an  elder,  and  fent  up,  "  duty  attelled,"  to  the  Ge- 
neral Affembly. 

But  to  return :  The  natural  refpedl  we  ov:e  to  thofe  in 
great  and  high  ftations,  claims  from  us  the  teilimony  of  it 
required  in  the  maxim.  There  is  an  original  and  effen- 
tial  difference  between  gentry  and  common  people,  which 
ought  to  be  particularly  kept  up  here.  For  this,  we  have 
the  authority  of  a  certain  worthy  laird  in  the  countiy, 
who  ahvays  maint?aned  upon  his  mind  a  fenfe  of  his  dig- 
nity, not  as  a  man,  but  as  a  gentleman.  Of  this  dif- 
pofition  he  gave  the  following  laudable  inllance  :  being 
a  member  of  the  kirk-feffion  in  his  parifli,  the  excife- 
officer  happened  to  come  before  them  for  fornication  : 
and  befides  the  ccclefiallical  cenfure,  it  was  thought  pro- 
per to  apply  to  the  civil  magiftrate  to  get  him  fined  ac- 
cording to  law  :  but  as  the  law  appoints  difierent  fines 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics^  141 

/or  men  in  clifFerent  ftatlons,  when  fome  propofed  he 
ihould  be  fined  at  the  rate  of  a  gentleman,  the  vvorfliip- 
ful  member  above-mentioned,  though  known  to  be  very 
zealous  againit  vice,  flrenuoufly  oppofed  his  having  {o 
much  honor,  and  gave  the  following  excellent  reafon  for 
it  :  *'  Since  God  Almighty  has  been  pleafe  to  make  a  dif- 
"  tindlion  betv/een  gentlemen,  and  other  men,  why  Ihould 
*'  not  we  keep  up  this  dirtin6lion  in  all  cafes  ?"  And  fo 
he  was  fined  only  as  a  commoner. 

Another  thing  (Irongly  pleads  for  gentlemen  having 
the  chief  hand  in  fettling  kirks,  that  now-a-days  very  few 
of  our  principal  gentry  attend  ordinances,  or  receive 
any  benefit  by  a  minifter  after  he  is  fettled,  unlefs  per- 
haps talking  of  the  news  at  a  private  vifit,  or  playing  a 
game  at  back-gammon :  and  therefore  it  is  but  fair,  that 
in  lieu  of  the  edification  of  the  common  people,  they 
ilioukl  have  the  honor  or  profit  of  conferring  the  benefice. 
I  fhali  only  further  add,  that  having  no  view  of  attend- 
ing upon  him  for  ordinary,  they  mufl:  be  the  befi:  judges 
of  his  preaching  gifts,  as  being  moft  difinterefied  :  for 
which  reafon,  non-refiding  heritors,  infiead  of  deferving 
to  be  cut  out  altogether,  as  the  fiupid  and  undifcerning 
orthodox  would  have  it,  are  by  much  to  be  preferred  to 
thofe  that  refide. 

The  reader  Vvdll  eafily  perceive,  that  I  have  here  given 
much  better  reafons  for  this  conduct  than  thofe  comnron- 
ly  afiigned,  viz.  the  law,  in  the  cafe  of  patrons  ;  and  the 
payment  of  the  ftipend,  in  the  cafe  of  heritor's*  For,  as 
to  die  fird  of  thele,  it  is  quite  from  the  purpofe  ;  for  die 
law  maintains  its  own  ground  as  far  as  it  goes,  and  is  ir- 
refifiible :  the  only  queilion  is.  How  we  ftiall  acl  as  to 
what  is  left  to  us  to  determine  ?  If  the  law  hindered  us  to 
determine  on  any  iide  v/e  pleaded,  fuch  caufes  never 
w^ould  be  pleaded  before  us.  As  to  the  other,  about  the 
heritors  paying  the  jlipend,  it  is  not  juft;  for  the  whole 
nation  pays  it  :  the  heritor  gets  his  lands  with  that  bur- 
den upon  them  at  firil ;  and  when  one  buys  land  from 
another,  he  never  pays  for  the  ftipend  :  fo  that  really  an 
heritor,  is  never  a  penny  the  poorer  of  the  ftipend,  ex- 
cept that  happening  commonly  to  fee  the  money  firll,  he 


142  Ecclesiastical  Characteristics. 

may  perhaps  be  forry  that  any  body  fhould  get  it  but  hlm- 
felf.  However,  though  thefe  reafons  be  not  fufficient  at 
bottom,  I  dtiiy  not  but  it  may  be  very  proper  to  aflign 
them  to  luch  as  are  ignorant  enough  to  yield  to  them,  or 
who  have  fo  fqueamifh  flomachs  as  not  to  be  able  to  di- 
geli:  the  folid  reafons  upon  which  I  have  grounded  my 
maxim.  It  is  with  the  mind  as  with  the  body,  it  mult 
be  fed  with  fuch  things  as  it  is  able  to  bear,  and  as  will 
beil  agree  with  its  frame  and  conftitution. 

MAXIM     IX. 

While  a  fettlement  is  carrying  on,  the  candidate  againfl 
whom  there  is  a  llrong  oppofition  from  the  people, 
muft  be  looked  upon,  and  every  where  declared  to  be, 
a  perfon  of  great  worth,  a,nd  remarkable  abilities  ; 
provided  always,  that  if  ever  the  fame  perfon,  after 
he  is  fettled,  be  at  pains,  and  fucceed  in  gaining  the 
people's  affedlion,  he  Ihail  then  fall  as  much  below  the 
ordinary  llandard  in  his  character,  as  before  he  was 
railed  above  it. 

Both  parts  of  this  maxim  will  appear  very  reafonable 
to  all  that  fee  with  our  eyes.  The  people  being  againft 
a  man,  is  a  certain  fign  of  hisbeing  a  good  preacher,  as  has 
beenformerly  proved:  itisalfo  a  pretty  fu re fign  of  his  being 
of  moderate  principles,  ''  v/hich  makes  the  comers  there- 
*'  unto  perfe6l ;"  and  thefc  two  things  are  fufficient  to 
juftify  us  in  railing  his  chara'^er.  It  is  indeed  often  ab- 
folutely  neceifary,  when  a  procefs  is  in  agitation,  that  it 
may  help  him  out  with  a  fcanty  concurrence,  and  have  an 
influence  upon  tlie  church  courts,  which  are  compofed  of 
a  mixed  multitude.  Nor  is  it  eafy  to  conceive,  how  ex- 
cellent and  V; ell  invented  a  weapon  this  is,  the  giving  a 
nian  on  extraordinary  and  higii  character.  It  neceilarily 
imprints  ii  kind  of  veneratioii  of  him  on  the  minds  of  his 
judges  ;  and  hath  this  peculiar  advantage,  that  there  is  no 
parry)n-T  of  it ;  for"  whatever  fome  fe^y  of  different  princi- 
ple'o'  may  think,  they  dare  not;  plainly  contradict  it. — 
Every  man  has  it  in  his  pov/er  tofpeakwsll  of  one  another, 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics,  143 

but  nobody  niuft  take  the  liberty  to  fpeiik  ill  of  a  man 
in  a  public  court,  unlefs  he  can  alfo  venture  to  give  him 
a  libel.  Many  a  time  have  I  heard  young  men  highly 
extolled  in  church  courts,  v/hen  their  fettlement  was  in 
dependance,  who,  in  flri^l  truth,  v/ere  but  middling  kind 
of  men,  and  fome  of  them  very  heavy,  who  afterwards 
proved  no  fmall  incumbrance  upon  the  moderate  body. 

As  to  the  other  part  of  the  maxim,  taking  away  their 
character  for  ability  when  they  apollatize  to  orthodoxy, 
this  v/ill  be  eafily  accounted  for,  if  it  be  remembered  how 
they  came  by  it.  It  was  freely  given  them  ;  and  therefore 
it  may  be  taken  away  at  pleafure  :  it  was  given  to  bring 
them  in  as  an  additional  lirength  to  the  moderate  intereft ; 
and  therefore,  v;hen  they  forfake  that  interell,  it  is  but 
jufl  to  deprive  them  of  it.  If  any  fhall  objedl,  that  this 
is  not  agreeable  to  the  ftri^l  rules  of  veracity,  I  defire  it 
may  be  remembered,  that  the  prefent  fafliionable  fchemc 
of  moral  philofophy  is  much  improved  in  comparifon  of 
that  which  prevailed  fome  time  ago.  Virtue  does  not 
now  confiftin  "  ailing  agreeably  to  the  nature  of  things," 
as  Dr.  Clarke  affirms ;  nor  in  "  adling  according  to  truth,'* 
which  an  old  fchool-mafler,  one  WooUafion,  once  wrote 
a  book  to  prove ;  but  in  "  the  good  of  the  whole;''  and 
therefore  an  illuftrious  and  noble  end  fan^lifies  the  means 
of  attaining  it.  Our  fentiments,  in  this  refpe^:,  are  de- 
fcribed  by  an  anonymous  poet,  who,  I  believe  meant  no 
good  to  us ;  however,  it  points  out  the  charaftur  pretty 
plainly  thus  : 


4i 


&c 


To  fecond  him  rofe  furly  Peter, 

An  angry  bigot  for  good -nature  : 

That  truth  lliould  valued  be  by  meafurc, 

"  And  weiglit,  be  thought ; 
That  inch  of  truth,  in  coiirtefy, 
"  To  fpan  of  intereft  llioulcl  give  way  .^ 
**  And  pound  of  gain,  for  ounce  of  lie, 
*'   is  cheaply  bought." 

If  it  be  farther  objeclcd,  That  Hill  this  ovAy  fafisf.cs 
ourfelves,  whereas  in  the  cafe  in  hand  it  is   necefTdn-  to 


144  Ecclesiastical  Characteristics, 

fatisfy  the  world-  As  to  this,  we  can  freely  fay,  that  the 
man  was  good,  but  now  he  is  bad  ;  and  that  is  no  con- 
tradition  :  for  though  the  Confeflion  of  Faith  maintains 
the  infallible  perfeverance  of  the  faints  in  grace,  yet  we 
never  affirmed  the  neceifary  perfeverance  of  men  in  mo- 
deration, thefe  two  things  being  entirely  diflindl  the  one 
from  the  other.  Some  of  our  friends  do  fall  away  now 
and  then :  our  ftrength,  for  ordinary,  confifts  in  young 
men  ;  for  there  are  feveral  who,  in  old  age,  through  the 
decay  of  their  faculties^  begin  to  incline  a  little  to  ortho- 
doxy, and  then  we  term  them,  not  "  old  men,"  but  "  old 
'-'-  wives/*  However,  there  are  alfo  fonie,  who  not  only 
perfevere,  but  glorioufly  improve  in  moderation  to  the 
lateil  old  age,  and  to  their  dying  day  ;  of  which  number 
was  the  late  Rev.  Mr.  J.  R.  in  K.  whofe  name  I  have 
thought  proper  to  record  in  this  immortal  work,  that  it 
may  be  had  in  everlafling  remembrance. 

MAXIM     X. 

Whenever  we  have  got  a  fettlement  decided  over  the  belly 
perhaps  of  the  whole  people  in  the  parifli,  by  a  majo- 
rity in  the  General  Aflembly,  the  vidorj^  fhould  be 
improved,  by  appointing  fome  of  the  orthodox  oppofers 
of  the  fettlement  to  execute  it,  efpecially  thofe  of  them 
that  pretend  to  have  a  fcruple  of  confcience  at  having 
an  adtive  hand  in  any  fuch  fettlement. 

They  do  not  deferve  a  vidtory,  who  knovv^  not  how  to 
puih  it,  or  to  improve  the  advantage  they  have  gained. 
A  fentence  of  the  General  Aflembly,  even  as  of  any  other 
court,  fignlfies  nothing,  if  it  be  not  executed.  To  reil 
llitisfied  with  the  vidlory  we  have  gahicd,  by  the  bare  de- 
cifion,  would  indeed  be  yielding  it  back  again,  and  lofmg 
in  fa6t,  what  we  gained  in  appearance.  This  is  felf- 
evident.     But  the  next  point  is,  Who  fliall  be  employed 


i'\o\v,  as  to  this,  allow  me  only  to  a(k  afew  pliiin  quefiions. 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics.  145 

fs  riot  every  fociety  divided  into  th^  governing  and  the 
governed,  the  maflers  and  the  fervants  ?  What  is  the  fub- 
jecl  of  any  debate  in  the  AfTembly  that  ends  in  a  vote, 
but  to  determine  who  is  the  one,  and  who  is  the  otlier  I 
when  once  a  vote  has  made  us  maflers,  does  not  the  fame 
vote  make  the  minority  fervants  ?  And  do  I  need  to  a(k 
further,  if  there  is  any  piece  of  drudgery  to  be  perform- 
ed, who  it  belongs  to,  the  maflers  or  the  fervants  t  Apply 
this  then  to  the  cafe  in  hand  :  Who  would  hazard  his  own 
life  in  fording  a  river,  if  he  had  aTervant  to  try  the  depth 
of  it  before  him  ?  Who  would  chufe  to  go  to  a  pulpit  un- 
der a  ihower  of  Hones  from  an  enraged  populace,  if  he 
had  others  under  his  authority,,  whom  he  could  fend  upon 
the  fame  ungracious  errand  ? 

Now,  the  ufefulnefs  of  this  condudl  is  very  evident  : 
for  it  is  plain,  they  will  either  obey  or  difobey.  If  the 
firfl  is  the  cafe,  then  we  ihall  have  the  honor  of  bringing 
them,  and  they  themfelves  the  profit  and  advantage  of  be- 
ing brought,  into  the  hatred  and  abhorrence  of  the  com- 
mon people  ;  in  commendation  of  which  flate,  enough 
has  been  faid  already.  If  they  difobey,  they  mufl  be  de- 
pofed,  and  cail  out  as  incorrigible,  to  make  way  for  thole 
that  are  better  than  themfelves.  This  will  be  to  the  ad- 
vantage of  the  church  :  for  young  men,  *'  cseteris  pari- 
"  bus,''  are  much  better  than  old. 

As  this  method  of  purging  the  church  of  corrupt  mem- 
bers is  like  to  be  a  prevailing  meafure  in  our  days,  I  fliall 
endeavor  to  fupport  it  by  a  few,  but  thefe  demondrative 
arguments  ;  in  moll  of  which,  indeed,  I  fhall  have  little 
more  than  the  honor  of  recording  the  fentiments  and  rea- 
foning  of  fome  eminent  men  that  were  members  of  the 
two  I  aft  General  AlTemblies. 

In  the  firll  place  it  is  certain,  that  the  command  of  a 
proper  authority  is  fufticient  to  make  any  action  not  only 
innocent  and  lawful,  but  perfectly  right,  and  ftri6tly  obli- 
gatory ;  infomuch  that  if  an  executioner  ihould  be  com- 
manded to  hang  his  father  or  fon,  for  praying  to  God,  or 
reading  his  Bible;  nay,  if  one  of  Jefus  Chrift's  difciples 
had  happened  to  have  been  a  Roman  foldier,  and  Ihould 
have  been   commanded  to  crucify  his  mailer,    he  iliould 

Vol.  III.  T 


146  Ecclesiastical  Characteristics, 

have  betrayed  the  moil:  egregious  ignorance  of  the  ChriRi- 
an  religion,  had  he  made  the  leaft  difficulty  in  executing 
fuch  orders. 

It  is  to  no  purpofe  here  to  obje6l  the  immutability  of 
moral  laws,  and  the  fupreme  authority  of  God  :  for  if 
obedience  to  human  authority  be  one  of  his  laws,  as  it 
plainly  is,  then  all  his  other  laws  muft  be  fubmitted  to 
fuch  alterations  and  fufpenfions  as  our  fuperiors  think  pro- 
per. The  apoftles  do  indeed  fometimes  fpeak  of  *'  obey- 
*'  ing  God  rather  lha,n  man  ;"  but  we  can  explain  this  as 
eafily  as  we  do  another  text,  in  the  third  chapter  of  the 
Komans,  which  feems  to  teach,  that  "  w^e  Ihould  not  do 
''  evil  that  good  may  come  :"  for  as,  in  the  one  cafe,  what- 
ever promotes  good  cannot  be  evil ;  fo,  in  the  other,  if 
human  authority  be  once  duly  interpofed,  it  is  obeying 
God  to  comply  with  whatever  is  injoined  thereby;  and 
therefore  it  is  impoffible  that  ever  there  can  an  interference 
happen.  Befides,  fome  allowance  mufl,  no  doubt,  be 
made  for  the  difference  of  times,  and  difadvantages  which 
all  the  ancient  writers  lay  under,  the  late  fine  improve- 
ments in  the  fcience  of  morals  not  having  then  been  ex- 
cogitated. But  I  can  allure  the  reader,  the  principle 
which  I  have  laid  down,  is  now  the  do6lrine  of  this  church, 
wherein  both  divines  and  lawyers  who  are  members  of 
our  Afiemblies,  are  entirely  agreed,  and  will  not  fuffer 
any  body  to  call  it  in  quellion.  And  what  an  obvious 
beauty  has  moral  virtue  gained  from  the  delicate  and  ikW- 
ful  hands  that  have  lately  been  employed  in  dreffing  her 
ladyfhip  !  She  v/as  once  Ilin  and  rigid,  like  ice  or  cold 
iron  ;  now  fhe  is  yielding  as  water,  and,  like  iron  hot 
from  the  furnace,  can  eafily  be  beaten  into  what  fliape 
you  pleafe.  And  here  I  muft  fay,  I  think  it  fome  pity 
that  fo  fine  a  genius  as  Grotius  did  not  flourifli  fomewhat 
later,  or  that  the  moral  fenfe  was  not  llarted  a  little  earli- 
er, and  fo  that  great  man  preferved  from  falling  into  fo 
great  a  blander  as  the  maintaining,  that  ''  even  military 
"  authority  may  be  refifted  ;  and  that  a  cafe  may  be  given, 
"  when  a  foldier  ought  to  difobey  orders  ;'*  for  now  it  is 
a  fettled  point,  that  even  ecclefiailical  authority  (which, 
if  there  w^ere  any  difference,  1  allow  ought  rather  to  be 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics.  147 

the  milder  of  the  two)  is  fufficieiit  to  bear  down  before  it 
what  were  once  called  the  *'  eternal,"  no  Icfs,  and  ''  im- 
"  mutable  lav/s  of  morality  ;"  and,  by  divine  authority, 
"  is  paramount  to  divine  authority  itfelf.'* 

I  Ihall  only  obferve  two  very  plain  and  clear  advanta- 
ges in  this  principle,  whereby  it  will  appear,  how  happy 
it  is  that  the  church  hath  fallen  fo  entirely  in  with  it,  and 
proceeds  fo  uniformly  upon  it. 

The  firft  is,  that  in  cafe  of  neceffity,  an  a6lion  which 
no  body  would  chufe  perhaps  to  take  the  weight  of  upon 
them,  may  yet  be  done  without  the  lead  hazard  of  any 
body's  being  called  to  account  for  it  in  the  other  world. 
If  the  doer  of  an  action  were  to  be  the  judge  of  its  lawful- 
nefs,  he  might  be  damned  perliaps  for  doing  it,  in  cafe 
it  were  found  to  be  wrong  ;  but  upon  this  principle  of  im- 
plicit obedience  to  his  fuperiors,  there  is  no  repelling  his 
defence  :  it  was  not  his  province  to  judge  whether  it 
was  lawful  or  unlawful ;  and  the  Aflembly  or  Commilliou 
who  gave  the  order,  being  bodies  politic,  are,  by  that 
time,  all  diffolved,  and  appear  only  in  the  capacity  of  in- 
dividuals. 

The  other  advantage  is  this,  that  if  the  fupreme  court 
of  any  kind,  v^ere  allowed  to  be  the  only  proper  judge  of 
the  lawfulnefs  of  its  own  appointments,  it  would  be  im- 
pofTible,  in  the  nature  of  things,  that  ever  there  could  be  a 
feparation  in  the  church,  or  a  rebellion  in  the  itate.  The 
juftnefs  of  this  confequence  is  {o  evident,  that  I  fliall  not 
fpend  any  time  in  illullrating  it,  but  heartily  wilh  the 
principle  from  which  it  flows,  were  univerfally  embraced. 

In  the  fecond  place,  the  difobedient  brethren  have  but 
one  pretence  for  their  condu6l,  which  is  groundlefs,  viz. 
a  ''  fcruple  of  confcience :"  as  to  which,  hear  Dr.  Good- 
man, a  noble  Englifh  writer :  "  A  tender  confcience  is 
''^  nothing  elfe  but  an  ignorant  and  uninftrucled  mind ; 
"  or  a  fickly,  melancholy,  and  fuperftitious  underlland,- 
"  ing."  I  could  eafily  fliow,  that  there  is  no  fuch  thing 
as  a  real  fcruple  of  confcience  :  the  lawyers  in  the  Gene- 
ral Aiicmbly,  who  are  men  of  as  great  penetration  as  any 
in  the  land,  have  moft  of  them  plainly  declared,  that  they 
do  not  conceive  it  pollible.     A  certa^in  learned  genllen^qj^ 


148  Ecclesiastical  Characteristics, 

of  this  court  hath  aiTured  us,  that  taking  away  minifters 
ftipencls  would  enlis^hten  their  confcience.  The  renown- 
ed  author  of  Hudibras  is  known  to  be  of  the  fame  opinion  : 
from  which  two  authorities  I  will  endeavor  to  amend 
Dr.  Goodman's  definition  :  for  a  "  tender  confcience  is 
*'  not  an  ignorant  mind/'  but  a  '*■  full  ftomach."  This 
accounts  for  appearances  better,  and  particularly  for  the 
epithet  of  tender,  commonly  given  to  it,  as  all  phyficians 
are  agreed,  that  a  wound  upon  a  full  llomach  is  very  dan- 
gerous. Having  thus  rooted  up  the  very  foundation  of 
this  pretence,  it  is  needlefs  to  go  through  the  feveral  par- 
ticulars infilled  upon  by  the  difcbedient  as  flraitening  to 
them  :  and  therefore  I  Ihail  but  in  a  word  mention  one 
of  them.  They  pretend  it  is  a  profane  farce  to  confer,  in 
a  Iblemn  manner,  the  care  of  the  fouls  of  a  certain  people, 
when  nothing  is  really  conferred  but  a  legal  title  to  a 
benefice :  as  alfo,  that  the  candidate  cannot  confcienti- 
oufly  anfwer  feverai  of  the  quelHons  comn'only  put  on 
thofe  occafions.  But  is  it  not  extremely  ftrange,  that 
any  body  can  be  fo  dull  as  not  to  regard  thefe  queilion? 
jn  their  only  true  and  proper  light,  as  a  necelTary  piece  of 
formality,  without  v/hich  a  charge  of  horning  for  the  fti. 
.pends  could  not  be  raifed  ?  And  as  to  the  other  part  of 
ithe  obje£lion,  whether  it  be  not.  much  more  a  mock  ce- 
remony, to  ordain  a  man  to  a  congreg2.tion,  when  a  title 
to  the  benefice  cannot  be  conferred,  I  ihall  leave  the 
reader  to  determine,  as  if  the  cafe  v/ere  bis  own. 

The  third  principle  upon  v/hich  our  condu6lis  found- 
ed, is  of  fuch  undoubted  verity,  that  the  bare  mention- 
ing of  it  is  fufficient  to  convince  all  the  world  how  little 
it  Hands  in  need  of  any  proof ;  accordingly  no  moderate 
man  views  it  in  any  other  light  than  as  an  axiom,  or 
felf-evident  truth  ;  namely,  That  if  any  excufe  for  dif- 
obedience  were  once  admitted,  or  any  indulgence  grant- 
ed to  thefe  tender-confcienced  inferiors,  there  would  be 
an  end  of  all  govern m.ent  in  an  inilant  ;  neither  com- 
mands nor  obedience  could  proceed  one  ftep  further, 
but  every  individual  inftrument  of  power,  in  that  fatal 
fociety,  afionifhed  at  the  monftrous  phasnomenon,  would 
flare  at  one  another ;  all  the  wheels  of  the  political  ma- 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics.  149 

(hine  would  flop  at  once  ;  nay,  would  fplit  into  ten 
dioufand  pieces  ;  every  relation  and  connection  of  their 
parts  would  be  inilantly  diflblved,  and  the  beautiful 
whole  would  rulh  into  a  wild  chaos  of  anarchy  and  con- 
fufion.  The  reader  will  eafily  believe,  I  am  too  wife  to 
offer  a  proof  of  an  axiom  or  felf -evident  truth*  ;  how- 
ever, I  think  it  but  fair  to  inform  him,  that  fuch  is  the 
nature  of  paper  and  ink,  that  they  have  not  the  power 
of  doing  it  all  the  jullice  even  in  narration,  of  which  it 
is  capable  elfewhere.  Whoever  has  heard  the  demon- 
llrative  tone,  or  beheld  the  infallible  air,  and  gefture  of 
certainty,  with  which  it  has  been  afierted  by  an  Aifembl}^- 
orator,  would  be  afhamed  that  he  ever  flood  in  need  to. 
be  put  in  mind  of  it :  for  my  own  part,  I  am  fo  entire- 
ly influenced  by  it,  that  if  the  mod  faithful,  diligent,  and 
ufeful  fervant  fhould,  in  the  humbled  manner  reprefent 
to  me,  that  he  had  a  fcruple  about  executing  any  of  my 
orders,  and  beg  to  be  excufed,  fuppofe  from  fliaving  me 
on  Sunday  morning,  and  1  fliould  unfortunately  be  fo 
far  off  my  guard,  as  for  once  to  indulge  him,  1  would  im- 
mediately diflblve  my  whole  family,  and  never  more 
think  of  lodging  with  a  living  foul  under  the  fame  un- 
happy roof. 

Againfl  this  principle,  however,  fome  have  prefumed 
to  obje(5l  particular  inftances  in  Scripture-hillory  of  fuch 
excufes  being  aftually  admitted,  without  any  apparent 
diffolution  of  the  confcitution :  fuch  as  Gideon's  palling 
from  his  order  to  his  fon  to  kill  the  two  princes  of  Mi- 
dian,  and  Haying  them  himfelf ;  and  that  of  Saul,  who, 
when  his  guards  refufed  to  fall  upon  the  priefls  conmiit- 
ted  that  affair  to  another,  without  any  farther  noife. 
Now,  not  to  mention  the  difficulty  of  arguing  from  fadts 


*  1  defire  that  this  generr.l  afTertion  may  not  be  mirunderftood,  as 
if  I  intended  a  rePjcilion  upon  fome  late  difcoveries  in  moral  philofo- 
phy  ;  for  though  an  axiom,  or  leif-evident  truth,  cannot  be  proved  ; 
yet  a  great  genius,  who  can  do  r.ny  thing,  may  take  a  view  of  thefe 
^ame  axioms,  dignify  and  adorn  them,  by  writing  an  eiLiy  round 
aboLit  eacli  of  them,  antl  prove  that  they  ought  to  be  called  Feelings. 
This  is  greatly  to  the  advantage  of  the  commonwealth  of  learning,  as 
experience  hath  (hewn. 


150  Ecclesiastical  Characteristics. 

of  an  ancient  date,  cited  only  by  one  author,  and  that 
very  courtly,  I  humbly  conceive  thefe  inflances  produced, 
make  diredlly  againft  the  objection  ;  for  it  appears  to  me 
very  evident,  that  the  kingdom  was  taken  from  Saul,  and 
given  to  David,  for  this  very  reafbn,  he  being  unfit  to 
govern,  by  thus  allowing  his  authority  to  be  trampled 
upon.  Nor  will  it  be  eafy  to  aflign  any  different  reafon, 
why  none  of  the  poflerity  of  Gideon  were  ever  permit- 
ted to  rule  Ifrael.  There  are  fome  later  inflances  of  that 
fort,  nearer  home,  thrown  up  by  ihallow  politicians  ;  as 
that  of  the  hangman  at  Ayr,  who  refufed  to  execute  the 
Whigs  in  King  Charles  the  lid's  time  ;  and  that  which 
happened  a  few  years  ago  among  ourfelves,  when  the  ci- 
vil government  overlooked  the  difobedience  of  a  fet  of 
refra6lory  clergymen  who  refufed  to  read  the  aft  of  par- 
liament againft  Captain  Porteoas.  In  the  firft  of  thefe 
cafes,  the  judges  a6led  in  a  laudable  manner  ;  for  they 
deprived  the  man  of  his  benefice  :  and  for  the  crime  of 
his  difobedience,  I  am  perfaaded  he  died  chikllefs,  for  I 
have  never  heard  of  any  of  his  pofterity  in  that  part  of 
the  country.  In  the  other  cafe,  I  confefs  the  govern- 
ment was  much  to  be  blamed  ;  and  have  long  been  of 
opinion,  that  their  deteftable  lenity,  at  that  time,  was  the 
caufe  of  the  late  rebellion,  which  followed  fo  foon  after 
it.  It  is  to  be  hoped  they  will  take  warning  for  the  time 
to  come ;  for  I  am  perfuaded,  one  other  inftance  of  the 
fame  kind  would  elfedually  fet  the  Pretender  upon  the 
throne  of  Britain. 

The  laft  principle  which  I  fliall  mention,  and  v/hich, 
with  the  reft,  I  am  fure  is  abundantly  fufficient  to  fup- 
port  the  maxim  laid  down  for  our  conduft,  is,  Tiiat  the 
beft  method  of  eonvi6lion,  and  of  all  others  the  moft 
proper  for  a  church-court,  is  that  of  authority,  fupported  in 
its  higheft  rigor  by  cenfures,  which  may  be  felt  l3y  men  of 
the  dulleft  capacities,  as  depofition,  and  fufpenfion  from 
benefice  as  well  as  ofiice.  If  the  gooclnefs  of  an  argu- 
ment, or  the  excellency  of  a  method,  is  to  be  meafured 
by  the  h^quency  of  recourfe  that  is  had  to  it,  I  think 
none  can  difpute  precedency  with  this.  It  muft  be  al- 
lowed to  be,  of  all  others,  the  moft  Chriftian  method ;  \i 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics.  151 

reigned  over  the  whole  church  without  a  rival,  for  many- 
ages  ;  and  though  proteftants,  for  a  while  pretended  to 
find  fault  with  it  in  the  hands  of  their  enemies ;  yet, 
which  of  them  all,  when  they  became  able  to  make  ufe 
of  it,  have  not  tried  it  in  their  turn  ?  And  whether  we 
confider  the  majority,  by  whofe  hands  this  weapon  is  to 
be  wielded,  or  the  minority  upon  whom  the  weight  of  it 
muft  fall,  it  will  plainly  appear  to  be  admirably  fuited  to 
the  prefent  times.  As  to  the  beafts  of  burden,  who  fall 
to  be  driven  by  this  method,  they  are  known  to  be  fuch 
dull  and  lifelefs  animals  (as  they  are  mofl  of  them  pall 
the  vigor  of  youth)  that  no  other  argument  can  make  any 
impreiTion  upon  them.  However  a  horfe  might  be  ma- 
naged, who  is  a  generous  creature,  no  body  could  think 
of  another  method  to  make  an  afs  move,  but  conftantly 
to  belabour  its  fides.  There  cannot  be  a  clearer  evidence 
of  the  dulnefs  and  ftupidity  of  thefc  obllinate  beings  we 
have  to  do  with,  than  the  expence  of  rhetoric  that  has 
been  thrown  away  upon  them,  to  perfuade  them  of  a 
thing  as  clear  as  the  fun,  viz.  that  if  they  had  any  con- 
fcience  they  would  depofe  themfelves,  and  yield  their 
place  to  more  pliable  fuccefibrs.  They  even  pretend  con- 
icience  here  again  ;  and  tell  us  they  are  placed  in  a  Ihiti- 
on  which  they  dare  not  defert,  unlefstheybe  thrull  out 
of  it.  Now,  let  the  reader  judge  how  incapable  of  per- 
fuafion  one  mufl  be,  to  find  difficulty  in  fo  plain  a  cafe  ; 
and  therefore  how  unnecefTary  it  is,  that  a  more  effeftual 
method  fliould  be  tried. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  majority  in  AlTemblies  and 
Commiffions  feems,  at  prefent,  to  be  peculiarly  adapted 
to  fuch  a  method  of  convi(^l:ion  as  I  have  mentioned. 
One  part  of  our  ilrength  lies  in  the  laity  who  attend  our 
judicatures ;  thefe,  as  they  poiTefs  no  benefice  in  the 
church,  they  are  out  of  the  reach  of  this  fort  of  ceniure, 
and  therefore  are  only  capable  of  infii6ling,  but  not  of 
fuffering  it ;  and  as  thev  are  not  much  accuilomed  to 
folving  cafes  of  confcieuce,  what  otlier  method  can  occur 
to  them,  when  things  of  this  nature  are  thrown  in  their 
way,  than  the  more  gentleman-like  method,  for  v;h^ch 
Alexander  tlie  Great  is  fo  julllv  celebrated,  viz,  cutting 


15^  Ecclesiastical  Characteristics* 

the  troiiblefome  knot,  which  they  would  find  tedious  and 
difficult  to  unite  ?  The  red  of  our  fide  confifts  in  clerg}- 
of  the  youngelt  fort ;  who,  as  they  are  imitators  of  the 
manners  of  gentlemen,  may  be  fuppofed  to  a6l  with  the 
fame  fpirit  in  public  judgmem.  Though  they  can  give 
flour ifhes  of  rhetoric  enough ;  nay,  though  one  of  them 
in  particular,  I  may  literally  fay, 

-He  cannot  ope 


His  mouth,  but  out  their  flies  a  trope  ; 

yet  as  for  logic,  it  is  well  known  this  part  of  education  is 
fallen  into  great  cozitempt ;  and  it  is  not  to  be  expedled, 
that  fuch  briflv  and  lively  fpirits,  who  have  always  hated 
ev^T-y  thing  that  looked  fcholallic-like,  can  bear  to  be  tied 
dovv'n  to  the  ftri^t  methods  of  argumentation.  But  though 
v/e  were  greater  mailers  in  this  method  of  conviction,  yet 
our  blovod  may  be  eafily  fuppofed  too  warm  for  any  thing 
that  is  lb  flow,  and  at  befl:  fo  uncertain  in  its  fuccefs.  No  ; 
we  are  now  the  majority,  and  our  power  as  a  late  acquifi- 
tion,  is  the  more  agreeable  for  being  new  ;  we  muft  tafte 
the  fweets  of  authority,  which  can  only  be  by  compelling 
our  inferiors  to  obey  us.  If  our  fentences  are  executed, 
it  is  the  fame  thing  to  the  new  incumbent,  the  fame  thing 
to  the  church  in  general,  and  the  fame  thing  to  us,  whe- 
ther the  executofs  are  willing  or  unwilling ;  for,  as  to 
that  whole  matter  of  confcience,  about  vvhich  fo  much 
noife  is  made,  I  have  already  related  our  fentlments ; 
from  whence  it  is  evident,  that  fuch  nonfenfe,  as  laying  a 
violent  temptation  in  men's  way  to  a6l  in  the  light  of  their 
own  mind,  is  nothing  but  words  without  a  meaning.  And 
as  to  the  expreffion  of  the  apoflle  Paul,  about  church- 
powei*,  which  he  ufes  over  and  over  again,  that  it  is  "  for 
*'  ediiication,  and  not  for  deftruclion ;"  it  is  no  fecret, 
that  there  is  a  various  reading ;  and  if  once  we  had,  "  for 
*'  deilruclion  and  not  for  edification,"  .efiablilheJ  as  the 
true  reading,  which,  if  we  were  dealers  in  criticifm,  might 
perhaps  be  eafily  dene,  we  fhould  not  only  get  rid  of  this 
troublefome  text,  but  make  an  acquifiticn  of  it  on  our 
fide  of  the  quefiion,  to  the  confafion  of  our  greatefi  ene- 


mies. 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics.  153 

MAXIM       XT. 

Tlie  chara6ler  which  moderate  men  give  their  adverfaries, 
of  the  orthodox  party,  mull  always  be  that  of  "  knaves'* 
or  "  fools ;"  and,  as  occafion  ferves,  the  fame  perfon 
(if  it  will  pafs)  may  be  reprefented  as  a  "  knave"  at 
one  time,  and  as  a  "  fool"  at  another. 

The  juftnefs  of  this  proceeding  may  be  eafily  made  ap- 
pear. The  principles  of  moderation  being  fo  very  evident 
to  reafon,  it  is  a  demonilration,  that  none  but  unreafonable 
men  can  refill:  their  influence  :  and  therefore  we  cannot 
fuppofe,  that  fuch  as  are  againll  us  can  be  fo  from  con- 
fcience.  Befides,  fetting  afide  the  fuperior  intrinfic  ex- 
cellence of  the  one  fet  of  principles  above  tlie  other,  there 
are  much  llronger  carnal  motives,  to  fpeak  in  their  own 
flyle,  to  a(Sl  in  their  way,  than  in  ours ;  and  therefore 
there  is  great  ground  to  conclude,  that  they  a6l  from  hy- 
pocrify,  but  not  fo  of  us.  They  pleafe  the  people  ;  we 
pleafe,  at  leaft  endeavor  to  pleafe,  thofe  of  high  rank. 
Now  there  are  many  remarkable  advantages  they  gain  by 
pleafmg  the  people  ;  whereas  it  is  evident,  "  ex  poll  fac- 
to," that  we  gain  nothing  by  pleafmg  the  gentry ;  for 
they  never  trampled  upon  us  {o  much  as  of  late ;  and 
have  entirely  defeated  our  application  to  parliament  for 
augmentation  of  flipend.  So  far  are  we  from  being  in 
any  refpedl  the  better  of  the  gentry,  that  we  have  really 
great  reafon  to  complain  of  them  ;  for  w^hen  we  have  en- 
deavored to  ingratiate  ourfelves  with  them,  by  foftnefs 
and  complaifance,  and  by  going  confiderable  lengdis 
with  them  in  their  freedom,  they  oftentimes  mofl  unge- 
neroufly  defpife  us  but  the  more :  nay,  many  of  them 
have  firll  taught  us  to  live  at  a  high  rate,  and  then  refufe 
to  give  us  any  thing  to  keep  it  up.  Now,  as  we  men  of 
reafon  could  not  but  forefee  this,  it  is  plain  nothing  but 
the  moil  difmterefted  virtue  could  lead  us  to  adt  as  we 
have  done.  Whereas,  on  the  other  hand,  the  orthodox 
have  gained,  and  do  jioflefs  the  elleem  of  the  comjnon 
people ;  and  fo,  it  is  plain  they  could  have  no  other  view 
in  their  condudl:  but  to  attain  it.     However,  to  ihew  our 

Vol.  III.  U 


154  Ecclesiastical  Characteristics, 

charity,  we  iillov/  there  are  fome  on  their  fide  who  are 
indifferently  honeft  ;  but  thefe  are  men  of  very  weak 
intelleftuals,  as  is  evident  from  their  not  thinking  as  we 
do. 

The  other  part  of  the  maxim  is  abundantly  reafonable, 
but  not  fo  eafily  put  in  praQice,  viz.  reprefenting  the 
fame  individual  perfon  fometimes  as  a  knave,  and  fome- 
times  as  a  fool.  This  affair  is  fometimes  unluckily  ma- 
naged, when  it  is  incautioufly  attempted.  In  order  to  its 
being  done  fuccefsfuUy,  therefore  let  the  following  rules 
be  obferved. 

lit.  Let  a  man  be  reprefented  as  a  knave  and  a  hypo- 
crite to  one  fort  of  people  in  the  world ;  and  let  him  be 
reprefented  as  a  fool,  not  to  the  fame,  but  to  another  fort : 
let  the  firft  be  chiefly  your  better  fort  of  people,  particu- 
larly thofe  among  them  that  hate  much  profeffion  of  reli- 
gion, and  are  apt  to  call  all  llri6lnefs  hypocrify  :  the  other 
it  is  plain,  muff  be  the  fimple  and  credulous. 

The  fecond  rule  is,  that,  if  poffible,  there  fliould  be 
different  perfons  employed  in  fpreading  thefe  different 
calumnies  of  the  fame  man.  By  this  apparent  confifl- 
ency  in  every  one's  opinion  with  itfelf,  they  will  be  the 
more  eafJy  maintained,  and  be  the  lefs  liable  to  difcove- 
ry  :  and  thus,  as  the  feveral  wheels  of  a  watch^  by  oppo- 
fite  motions,  promote  the  fame  end  ;  fo  the  feveral  mem- 
bers of  the  moderate  body,  by  feemingly  different  and 
oppofite  means,  confpire  in  promoting  the  good  of  the 
whole.  The  principle  upon  which  thefe  two  rules  are 
founded,  is,  That  probability  ought  to  be  fludied  in  every 
falfhood  we  would  have  believed  ;  which  principle  is  laid 
down,  and  finely  illuflrated,  in  the  Art  of  Political  Lying, 
faid  to  be  wrote  by  one  Dr.  Arbuthnot. 

It  will  not,  I  hope,  be  reckoned  wandering  from  my 
fubjecl,  when  I  obferve,  tliat  the  very  fame  principle  of 
lludying  probability  is  to  be  applied  to  the  celebration  of 
the  characters  of  our  friends,  as  well  as  the  defam.ation  of 
our  enemies.  Thefe  two  defigns  indeed  have  a  very 
ffrong  connection,  and  do  mutually  fupport  and  promote 
one  another.  Praifmg  one  chara6ter  is,  by  neceffaiy  and 
manifeil  confequence,  a  dciiimation  of  its  oppofite  ;  and, 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics,  155 

in  fome  cafes,  which  may  eafily  be  conceived,  it  is  the 
mofl  eligible,  and  the  moft  elleClual  way  of  doing  it.  I 
have  been  prefent  at  a  converfation,  where  the  chief  in- 
tention of  one  of  the  fpeakers,  and  what  he  had  mofi:  at 
lieart,  was  to  rain  the  charad:er  and  reputation  of  a  cer- 
tain perfon  who  happened  to  be  mentioned,  with  his 
hearers ;  but  he  could  not  well  know,  whether  they  were 
able  to  bear  a  large  quantity  of  unmixed  reproach,  he 
chofe  the  wifer  and  fafer  method,  of  celebrating  another 
character,  and  drawing  it  with  all  his  art,  in  fuch  a  man- 
ner, as  the  ftrongeft  oppofition  polhble  might  appear,  in 
fome  of  its  circuniilances,  to  that  of  the  perfoa  intended 
to  be  wounded  by  reflection. 

But  in  this,  as  in  the  former  cafe,  great  judgment  and 
prudence  muii:  be  ufed  ;  nothing  muft  be  faid,  the  con- 
trary of  which  is,  or  ma.y  be  eafily  known  to  be  true  ; 
and  particularly  all  the  antiquated  orthodox  phrafes,  in 
giving  a  minifter's  character,  are  to  be  religiouPiy  avoid- 
ed. The  neceffity  of  this  direftion  will  bed  appear  from 
an  example  :  Suppofe  I  fliould  fay  of  Momus,  he  was  a 
youth  of  early,  and  contirmes  to  be  a  man  of  eminent 
piety,  walking  with  God,  and  fpending  many  hours 
every  day  in  fecret  devotion  ;  has  a  deep  and  flrong 
fenfe  upon  his  mind,  of  the  worth  and  value  of  time,  and 
lays  it  out  wholly  in  fitting  others  and  himfelf  for  eter- 
nity ;  has  fo  facred  a  regard  for  truth,  that  he  never  tells 
a  lye,  even  in  jell ;  has  a  moil  humble  deportment,  and 
is  perfe6lly  free  from  that  prevailing  fault  of  triiimphing 
over  the  v/eak  or  iliame-faced  by  raillery  or  impudence  ; 
has  been  frequently  heard  to  exprefs  his  difpleafare  at 
all  lenity  of  carriage,  and  frothy  unprofitable  difcourfe, 
in  perfons  of  the  facred  charafter ;  and  as  he  was  always 
himlelf  remarkable  for  a  purity  of  converfation,  fo  he  can- 
not allov/  the  mofl  difcant  allufion  to  obfcenity  to  pafs 
without  a  reproof;  in  fhort,his  whole  behavior  commands 
both  the  reverence  and  love  of  all  v/ho  have  the  happi- 
nefs  of  his  acquaintance.  I  fav,  if  I  ihould  draw  llie 
■characler  of  Momus  in  this  manner,  as  foir^e  autliors  do 
thole  of  the  Puritan  clerpfy  about  a  hundred  years  ago, 
It  is  probable  he  v/ould  give  me  no  tlianks :  and  indeed^ 


156  Ecclesiastical  Characteristics. 

he  would  owe  me  none  ;  for  it  would  have  much  more  the 
air  of  a  fatire  than  of  a  panegyric. 

It  is,  however,  pofTible  to  draw  a  chara6lerofthe  fame 
perfon,  which  fhall  have  fome  truth,  and  much  probabili- 
ty in  it ;  andv/hich,  as  being  the  character  of  a  modern, 
lliall  be  much  more  in  the  modern  commendatory  llyle. 
He  is  a  man  of  a  mod  fprightly  and  lively  fancy,  of  an  in- 
exhauftible  fund  of  wit  and  humour,  where  he  pleafcs  to 
difplay  it,  though  the  iniquity  of  the  times  has,  in  fome 
meafure,  checked  its  indulgence.  He  is,  notwithftand- 
ing  the  grimnefs  of  his  countenance,  entirely  free  from 
any  fournefs  or  morofenefs  of  temper,  fo  that  in  his  con- 
veriktlon  a  man  may  enjoy  all  manner  of  eafe  and  free- 
dom. He  is  a  moft  genteel  and  elegant  preacher  and 
poet ;  and,  to  my  knowledge,  a  man  of  a  warm  and  good 
heart."^ 

MAXIM    XII. 

As  to  the  world  in  general,  a  moderate  man  is  to  have 
great  charity  for  Atheifls  and  Deifts  in  principle,  and 
for  perfons  that  are  loofe  and  vicious  in  their  practice  ; 
but  none  at  all  for  thofe  that  have  a  high  profeflion  of 
religion,  and  a  great  pretence  to  llridlnefs  in  their  walk 
and  converfation. 

This  maxim  feem.s  to  be  pretty  flrongly  laid  ;  and  yet, 
upon  a  llridt  inquiry,  it  will  be  found  that  we  follow  it 
very  exadly.  That  we  have  charity  for  the  firfl- men- 
tioned fort  of  perfons,  is  evident ;  for  we  endeavor  to  ac- 
commodate ourfelves  to  them,  and  draw  as  near  them  as 
poffibly  we  can,  infilling  upon  nothing  in  our  fermons 
but  what  may  be  faid  to  be  a  part,  or  an  improvement,  of 
the  law  of  nature.  And  as  to  our  having  no  charity  for 
the  other  fort,  it  is  as   evident ;  witnefs  the   odious  idea 

*  This  exprefnon,  "  a  mTxVx  of  a  good  heart,"  Is  much  in  fafhion 
among- the  moderate,  and  of  great  fignlncanc)^  andbcnuty;  but  it  :s 
only  to  be  ufed  in  fpeaking  to  perfons  of  fome  degree  of  tafte  ;  for  I 
J<new  a  particular  inflance  in  which  it  difobhged  tlic  perfon  it  v.as  in- 
tended to  gain. 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics.  157 

we  have  affixed  to  the  name  of  a  profeflbr  (unlefs  when  it 
is  meant  of  a  profeflbr  in  a  college  ;)  and  witnefs  our  iron- 
ical way  of  fpeaking,  when  we  fay  of  a  man,  he  has  a 
'^  grave  fan^lified  air.""  Nay,  even  holinefs  and  godli- 
nefsare  feldom  taken  by  us  in  a  very  good  ienfe  :  wlien 
we  fay,  "  One  of  the  holy  brethren,"  or,  "  A  good  godly 
"  lady,"  they  would  miilake  us  very  much  that  would 
think  we  had  a  high  opinion  of  any  of  thefe  perfons. 

This  our  condudl  a  certain  young  man  of  the  orthodox- 
fide,  reflected  very  feverely  upon,  as  he  thought,  in  a 
fermon,  which  he  afterwards  printed,  in  words  to  this 
purpofe  :  "  They  can  indeed  talk  very  fluently  of  uni- 
*'  verf?J  benevolence,  and  a  charitable  candid  difpofition — 
*'  but  their  charity  is  confined  to  thofa  who  favor  their 
"  opinions,  or  perhaps  are  indifferent  about  religion  alto- 
*'  gether ;  while  the  leail  a]Dpearance  of  ferious  devotion, 
"  or  fervent  zeal  for  God,  is  enough  to  forfeit  it.  Indeed 
"  this  charity  is  as  myfterious  as  the  faith  of  the  m.oft  bi- 
*'  gotted  Catholic ;  it  is  equally  full  of  contradiftions  ; 
"  and  feems  refolv^ed  to  found  itfelf,  not  upon  evidence, 
*'  but  upon  the  want  of  it.  Where  every  thing  has  the 
"  worfl  appearance,  there  they  will  believe  well  ;  but 
"  where  the  outward  conduct  is  blamelefs,  they  candidly 
"  fufpe6t  that  nothing  but  hypocrify  lies  at  the  bottom." 
But,  with  the  leave  of  this  fmart  youth,  what  he  fays  of 
us  is  very  true,  and  we  maintain  it  to  be  right :  for  the 
very  meaning  of  chanty  is  to  believe  without  evidence  ; 
it  is  no  charity  at  all  to  believe  good  of  a  man  when  we 
jee  it,  but  when  we  do  not  fee  it.  It  is  v/ith  charity  in 
fentiment,  as  with  chanty  in  fupplying  the  wants  of  the 
neceffitous  ;  we  do  not  give  alms  to  the  rich  but  to  the 
poor.  In  like  manner,  when  there  are  all  outward  ap- 
pearances of  goodnefs,  it  requires  no  charity  to  believe  well 
of  the  perfons  :  but  when  there  are  none  at  all,  or  per- 
haps very  many  to  the  contrary,  then  I  will  maintain  it 
is  charity,  and  charity  in  its  perfection,  to  believe  well 
of  them.  Some  objeCl  to  this.  Well,  fmce  it  is  your  will, 
have  charity  for  them.;  but  have  charity  alfo  for  fuch  as 
are  apparently  good.  Oh  !  the  ftupid  world  !  and  flow 
of  heart  to  conceive  !  is  it  not  evident  to  a  demonflration. 


158  Ecclesiastical  Characteristics. 

that  If  the  appearance  of  wickednefs  be  the  foundation  of 
chanty,  the  appearance  of  goodnefs,  which  is  its  oppofite, 
muft  be  the  foundation  of  a  quite  contrary  judgment,  viz. 
fufpedlng,  or  rather  believing  ill  of  them  ?  li  any  ftill  in- 
fill, That  if  not  charity,  yet  juftice  fliould  incline  us  to 
believe  well  of  them  ?  as  I  have  feemingly  confeffed  :  I 
anfwer,  That  we  have  no  occafion  for  jullice,  if  we  have 
charity ;  for  charity  is  more  than  juRice,  even  as  the 
whole  is  more  than  a  part :  but  though  i  have  fuppofed, 
*'  argLimentandi  gratia,"  that  juftice  requires  this,  yet  it  is 
not  my  fentiment ;  for  the  perfons  meant  being  ufually 
great  enemies  to  us,  are  thereby  cut  off  from  any  claim 
injuiliceto  our  good  opinion  ;  and  being  alfo,  as  has  been 
proved,  improper  objeds  of  ciiarity,  it  remains  that  vve 
ihould  hate  tliem  with  perfect  hatred,  as  in  fa<^  we  do. 

M  A  X  I  M    XIII. 

All  moderate  men  are  joined  together  in  the  flri^lefl  bond 
of  union,  and  do  never  fail  to  fupport  and  defend  one 
another  to  the  utmoft,  be  the  caufe  they  are  engaged  ia 
what  it  will. 

This  maxim  I  do  not  infert  [o  much  for  the  inflrudlion 
of  the  ignorant,  as  for  the  perfedlion  of  my  own  plan, 
and  the  honor  of  the  whole  body  ;  for  I  have  hardly  ever 
known  it  fail  in  any  inftance  wh?ttever.  And  as  this  cha- 
racter belongs,  without  controverfy,  to  all  the  moderate, 
fo  it  belongs  to  them  by  an  exclufive  privilege  ;  for  they 
do  moil  loudly  complain  of,  and  load  with  moft  opprobri- 
ous epithets,  any  of  the  orthodox,  who  attempt  to  imitate 
them  in  it,  as  has  been  fometimes  knov/n.  Nothing  in- 
deed can  be  more  juft  and  reafonctble  than  thefe  com- 
plaints ;  for  fuch  conduct  in  the  orthodox  is  a  plain  de- 
fertion  of  their  own  principles,  a  robbery  and  invafion  of 
the  property  of  others.  Confcience,  upon  which  they 
pretend  to  ad:,  is,  of  all  things,  the  mofl  liifF  and  inflexi- 
ble ;  and  cannot  by  any  art,  be  moulded  into  another 
ihape,  than  tliat  which  it  naturally  bears :  whereas  the 
Vv^hole  principles  of  moderation  are  mod  gentle  and  duc- 
tile, and  may  be  applied  toalrnqft  all  purpofcs  imaginable, 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics,  159 

If  any,  through  an  envious  infidelity,  entertain  a  doubt 
of  the  truth  allerted  in  the  maxim,  they  are  referred,  for 
latisfadlion,  to  the  hiftory  of  the  proceedings  of  this  church 
for  thefe  twenty  years  paft,  which  I  take  to  have  been  the 
true  reforming  period ;  and  are  hereby  defied  to  produce 
an  inilance  in  which  any  moderate  man,  wife  or  unwife, 
old  or  young,  grave  or  fprightly,  failed  to  concur  in  fup- 
porting  one  of  his  own  fide,  whatever  was  his  caufe,  ac- 
tive or  paiTive,  a  project  for  advancement,  or  ihe  danger 
of  a  profecution.  Let  but  one  of  us  ftart  a  fcheme,  in 
which  he  may  find  his  account,  or  become  candidate  for 
an  office,  the  whole,  upon  the  firft  impulfe,  as  the  concor- 
dant firings  of  a  mufical  inflrument  anfu'er  to  the  touch, 
return  and  reverberate  the  found.  If  Momus  unwarily 
makes  a  fally  into  the  territories  of  "  good-humoured 
*'  vice,"  and  is  unhappily  betrayed  by  thofe  who  ought 
not  to  have  been  trufled ;  how  powerfully  is  he  upheld 
by  the  graved  of  the  party,  and  the  unchai'itable  malevo- 
lent enemy  ftung  and  deftroyed,  like  the  bear  in  the  fa- 
ble, for  diliurbing  the  hiveof  induflrious  bees  ?  Nay,  as  a 
yet  flronger  inflance,  (being  more  againft  nature)  I  could 
fhew,  in  the  records  of  a  certain  prefbytery,  declarations 
figned  by  the  moft  moderate  hands,  and  yet  containing  as 
high  and  ranting  expreffions  in  favor  of  the  rights  of  the 
Chriftian  people,  as  ever  were  ufed  by  the  moil  orthodox 
writer  ;  becaufe,  by  a  wonderful  concurrence  of  circum- 
itances,  they  ferved,  at  that  time,  to  promote  the  fettle- 
ment  of  a  moderate  man. 

Every  eye  mufl  im.mediately  perceive  the  beauty  and 
excellence  of  this  part  of  our  character.  What  more 
amiable  than  union  ?  or  v^hat  more  neceffary  to  the  fup- 
port  of  any  fociety  ?  and  what  more  hateful  and  horrid 
than  difcord  and  divifion  ?  Is  it  not  alfo,  by  this  very 
means,  that  we  have  obtained  the  vi^lory,  and  do  fiill  pre- 
ferve  our  fuperiority  over  the  orthodox  party  ?  They  are 
wholly  ignorant  of  the  laws  of  fociety,  as  they  have  been 
lately  well  explained  by  fome  of  our  brethren  in  print ; 
and  know  not  that  all  who  enter  into  it,  give  up  their 
rights  as  individuals,  and  arc  bound  "  to  follow  what  tliey 
''  difapprove ;"  to  fee  with  the  eyes,  and  a<5l  {or  the  in- 
terefl  of  the  v/hole  body. 


1 66  Ecclesiastical  Charadtenstics. 

It  mufl  be  no  fmall  commendation  of  fuch  conduct, 
that  in  fo  doing  we  either  follow,  or  are  followed,  by  the 
moil  eminent  and  illuftrious  characters  in  this  nation. 
It  is  probable  there  may  be  feveral  controverted  eleftions 
tried  before  the  parliament  in  a  iliort  time ;  and  I  dare 
fay,  any  wife  man  will  foretell  their  iiTue  in  each  cafe, 
much  more  certainly  from  the  character  of  the  perfon, 
than  from  the  merits  of  the  caufe.  And  it  is  with  fome 
pleafure  I  obferve,  that  whoever  begun  this  pradlice  firil, 
we  have  carried  it  to  the  greateil  perfection ;  for  amongfl 
us,  the  characters  of  men  have  been  openly  pleaded  in 
defence  of  their  ca.ufe,  which,  if  I  am  not  miftaken,  hath 
hardly  ever  been  done  in  any  civil  court. 

How  admirably  does  this  principle  fall  in  with  the  , 
fcheme  of  philofophy  upon  which  the  prefent  generation 
is  formed  !  It  illuftrates  the  truth  of  Mr.  H n's  doc- 
trine, That  virtue  is  founded  upon  inftindt  and  affection, 
and  not  upon  reafon  :  that  benevolence  is  its  fource,  fup- 
port,  and  perfection  ;  and  that  all  the  particular  rules  of 
conduct  are  to  be  fufpended,  when  they  feem  to  interfere 
with  the  general  good.  In  fhort,  it  fliews  that  the  mode- 
rate are  a  tranfcript  in  miniature,  and  do  mod  diflin(^l:ly 
exhibit  the  order,  proportion,  and  unity  of  defign  in  the 
univerfal  fyilem. 

Time  would  fail  me,  if  I  Ihould  go  through  all  the  ex- 
cellencies of  this  crovv^ning  maxim  ;  and  therefore  I  fliall 
only  further  obferve,  that  it  excels  all  the  knov/n  princi- 
ples of  action  for  clearnefs  and  perfpicuity.  In  order  to 
determine  which  fide  to  chufe  in  a  difputed  queftion,  it 
requires  no  long  difcuflions  of  reafon,  no  critical  inquiry 
into  the  truth  of  controverted  fa6ts,  but  only  fome  know- 
ledge of  the  charafters  of  men  ;  a  ftudy  much  more  agree- 
able, as  well  as  more  common,  than  that  of  books.  To 
fpeak  more  properly,  it  requires  no  ftudy  at  all  of  any 
Idnd  ;  for,  as  to  the  grofs,  or  general  tendency  of  a  cha- 
racter, common  fame  communicates  the  impreffion,  and 
feldom  or  never  deceives  us.  This  is  probably.the  rea- 
fon that  the  maxim,  as  has  been  obftrved  at  tlie  beginning 
of  the  illuftration,  is  conitantly  and  unerringly  Ibllowed 
by  the  moderate  of  every  age  and  coiiditlon  :  on  which 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics,  i6i 

account  I  give  it  as  my  opinion,  that  it  be  added  to  the 
number  of  the  feelings,  which  are  at  prefent  fo  much 
upon  the  growing  hand. 

Thus  I  have  laid  down  and  illuflrated  thefe  excellent 
maxims,  not  without  labour  and  expence  of  thought; 
and,  I  think,  carried  them  fo  far  as  to  make  a  complete 
fyflem  for  the  education  and  accomplifliment  of  a  mode- 
rate clergyman,  for  his  guidance  in  public  judgment,  and 
his  dire6tion  as  to  private  pra(!^ice.  And  now,  courteous 
reader,  as  a  traveller,  after  having  gone  through  the  dif- 
ferent parts  of  a  country,  afcends  fome  eminence  to  re- 
view the  whole,  let  us  fland  ftill  and  rejoice  over  the 
happy  flate  of  our  mother-church  of  Scotland,  in  which 
moderation  fo  greatly  prevails  ;  and  let  us  rejoice  in  hope 
of  what  improvements  fhe  may  yet  arrive  at,  by  adher*- 
ing  to  thefe  maxims,  now  digelled  into  fuch  admirable 
form  and  order.  O  what  noble,  fublime,  and  impene- 
trable fermons  fhall  now  be  preached  !  What  victories 
and  triumphs  fliall  be  obtained  over  the  llupid  populace, 
by  forced  fettlements,  which  never  have  fuch  a  beautiful 
and  orderly  form,  as  when  finiflied  by  foldiers,  marching 
in  comely  array,  with  fhining  arms  ;  a  perfe6:  image  of 
the  churcb-militant !  And  what  perfedlly  virtuous  and 
fmlefs  lives  fhall  be  led  by  thefe  clergy,  who,  with  fleady 
eye,  regard  the  good  of  this  vail  whole,  which  never  yet 
went  wrong!  There  is  nothing  indeed  that  any  way  tar- 
niflies  the  beauty  of  this  profpe<5t,  but  the  mifcarriage  of 
the  augmentation-fcheme  ;  over  which  I  could  novv^  la- 
ment in  elegiac  i^rains,  but  that  my  hope  is  not  yet  quite 
extin6l  ;  for  who  can  tell  whether,  when  we  fhall  have 
brought  moderation  to  perfection,  when  we  fhall  have 
driven  away  the  whole  common  people  to  the  Seceders, 
who  alone  are  fit  for  them,  and  captivated  the  hearts  of 
the  gentry  to  a  love  of  our  folitary  temples,  they  may 
not  be  pleafed  to  allow  us  more  ftipends,  becaufe  we 
fhall  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  fpend  them  ? 

I  would  now  propofe,  that  the  next  enfuing  General 
AfTembly  would  appoint  (what  indeed  I  might  not  with- 
out fome  reafon  expect,  whether  they  appoint  it  or  not) 
that  all  the  profelTors  of  divinitv  in  the  nation  fhall  lec- 

VoL.  IIL  X 


t62  ILccleiiastical  Characteristics, 

ture  one  day  ex^ery  week  upon  this  fyftem  of  moileration, 
that  our  youth  may  be  trained  up  from  their  infancy  in  a 
tafte  for  it.  This,  I  am  fure,  will  be  much  more  pro- 
fitable than  any  of  the  antiquated  fyftems  of  divinity,  as 
Pic^tet  or  Turretine :  nay,  I  am  perfuaded,  it  is  more 
exadly  calculated  for  the  prefent  times,  than  even  the 
more  modern  authors,  Epiftetus  and  Marcus  Antoninus, 
which  laft,  in  Mr,  Foulis's  tranflation  hath,  by  many 
youns^j  divines,  in  their  firft  year,  been  miflaken  for  Mar- 
kii  Medulla  Theologise. 

If  this  my  treatife  fhall  meet  with  the  fuccefs  ^nd  ac- 
ceptance that  it  juiily  deferves,  it  is  my  intention  to  offer 
to  the  public  a  Hill  more  minute  and  particular  deline- 
ation of  the  moderate  character,  either  in  another  book 
of  a  different  form  from  this,  or  perhaps  in  a  fecond 
edition  of  the  fame  ;  which  fhall,  in  that  cafe,  be 
the  text,  and  to  which  I  will  add  large  explanatory  notes, 
containing  much  private  hillory,  and  referring  to  many 
particular  fadls,  in  order  to  render  it  the  more  grateful, 
as  v>/-ell  as  the  more  inftruding  to  the  reader.  I  have  alfo 
by  me  the  "  ftamina  vitas"  of  many  ufeful  and  edifying 
treatifes,  v/hich  fhall  be  produced  in  due  time,  as  the 
mufes  iha.ll  give  alFiftance ;  fuch  as.  The  art  of  making 
a  ilourifhed  fermon  with  very  little  matter,  by  a  proper 
mixture  of  fimilies,  and  by  repeating  every  paragraph 
over  again  in  the  form  of  a  foliloquy  :  One  refolation  of 
all  cafes  of  confcience,  from  the  good  of  the  whole 
fcheme  :  A  directory  for  prayer,  upon  the  fame  fcheme  : 
The  horrid  fm  and  danger  of  miniflers  fpending 
too  much  time  in  catechifing  and  viliting  in  country- 
pariflies  ;  1  do  not  make  any  mention  of  towns,  to  avoid 
giving  offence  ;  as  aifo,  lell  it  fhculd  prove  true  what  I 
have  heard,  that  the  praclice  is  fcarcely  known  in  any  of 
our  great  towns,  in  which  cafe,  my  reafonings  would 
look  like  beating  the  air.  Thefe,  with  many  others, 
I  am  with  affiduous  care  purchafuig  materials  for  complet- 
ing, by  obfervation  and  converfation,  that  our  church  may 
go  on  in  a  progrellive  motion  toward  tlie  zenith  of  per- 
fe(5lion  and  meridian  of  glory. 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics,  163 

I  Ihall  now  fhut  up  this  work,  by  acquainting  the 
reader  with  a  fecret,  which  perhaps  he  would  not  other- 
wife  advert  to,  viz.  that  I  enjoy  the  plealure  of  having 
done  a  thing  feemingly  quite  impra6ticable.  I  have  giv- 
en the  moderate,  and  thofe  who  defire  to  be  inftru^led  in 
that  fcience,  a  complete  view  of  the  maxims  and  princi- 
ples of  moderation,  without,  at  the  farne  time,  proflitut- 
ing  or  giving  them  up  to  the  poffeffion  of  every  common 
reader.  Perhaps  fome  will  aflc,  how  I  imagine  I  have 
efFedled  this  ?  I  anfwer,  that  1  have  fo  framed  the  whole 
of  my  book,  that  it  is  really  intelligible  only  to  perfons 
duly  qualified  ;  and  to  every  fach  perfon  it  is  tranfparent 
as  the  fpring- water.  I  have  given  only  moderate  reafons 
for  moderate  principles,  fo  that  however  llrongly  they 
may  convince  fome,  viz.  thofe  of  our  kidney,  others 
they  will  be  fo  far  from  convincing,  that  they  will  be 
thought  to  operate  a  quite  contrary  way.  I  have  managed 
this  io  carefully,  that  I  could  venture  to  lay  a  v/agcr  of 
all  that  I  am  v/orth,  that  this  treatife  fhall  be  taken,  by 
very  many,  to  be  the  work  of  an  orthodox  pen,  and  to 
be  intended  as  a  banter  upon  moderate  men  and  their 
way.  They  will  be  tempted  to  laugh  at  us,  whom  they 
will  imagine  to  be  expofed  by  this  revelation  of  our  myf- 
teries  :  but  how  ingenioufly  are  they  deceived  ?  For,  by 
that  very  means,  every  properly  prejudiced  mind  is  fur- 
nifhed  with  a  complete  fyflem,  upon  v/hich  to  form  hi^ 
fentiments,  and  regulate  his  condud. 


A    SERIOUS 


APOLOGY 


FOR     THE 


ECCLESIASTICAL    CHARACTERISTICS. 


By  the  real  AUTHOR  of  that  Performance, 


C   167   ] 

TO  THE 

NOBILITY    AND   GENTRY 

OF 

SCOTLAND, 

PARTICULARLY 

Such  of  them  as  are  Elders  of  the  Church,    and  fre^ 
quently  Members  of  the  General  Assembly, 

Right  Honorable,  and  Right  Worlhipful, 

THERE  was  prefixed  to  the  Ecclefiallical  Chara6i:er- 
lilies  a  ludicrous  dedication ;  there  feems  therefore 
fome  propriety  in  prefixing  a  ferious  dedication  to  this 
Apology^  To  whom  it  ought  to  be  addrelTed,  could  fcarce 
admit  of  a  moment's  hefitation.  It  profefles  to  aim  at 
promoting  the  intereft  of  religion  in  the  Church  of  Scot- 
land ;  and  certainly  none  have  it  fo  much  in  their  power 
to  preferve  or  improve  the  conftitution,  both  in  church 
and  (late,  as  your  Lordfhips  and  Worlhips. 

I  am  not  to  flatter  you  with  an  entire  approbation  of 
your  paft  conduct  as  church-members.  The  defign  of 
this  addrefs  is  rather  to  befeech  you,  in  the  moil  refpeft- 
ful  manner,  ferioufly  to  confider,  whether  you  ought  any 
longer  to  give  countenance  to  the  meafures  which  have  for 
fome  time  generally  prevailed.  I  am  encouraged  to  this, 
by  refle6ling,  that  it  is  to  you,  indeed,  we  are  obliged  for 
fetting  fome  bounds  to  the  attempts  of  the  high-flying  cler- 
gy. I  could  give  feveral  inftances  of  this  ;  but  fliall  only 
mention  one,  becaufe  it  is  very  recent.  In  the  Aflemblj 
1762,  it  was  evidently  owing  to  the  honorable  members, 
that  a  fanftion  v/as  not  given  to  a  refolution,  of  inflidling 
cenfures  upon  minifters,  merely  lor  preaching  to  their 
own  people  at  their  dcfire  :  a  thing   fo  odious   in   its  ajv 


1 68  Dedication. 

pearance,  and  fo  dangerous  as  an  example,  that  no  cir- 
cumllances  or  ends  to  be  ferved  by  it,  could  poffibly  juf- 
tify  it. 

I  have  already  hinted,  that  you  are  mod  "  able"  to 
promote  falutary  meafures  in  the  church-courts  ;  give  me 
leave  to  add,  that  I  firmly  believe  you  will  be  firll  "  will- 
"  ing"  to  make  any  change  for  the  better.  Individuals 
may,  but,  in  the  prefent  ftate  of  human  nature,  it  ought 
not  to  be  expelled,  that  the  majority  of  any  body  of  men 
will  give  up  private  benefit  in  wealth,  power,  or  eafe,  for 
public  good.  Therefore,  when  once  the  clergy  are  cor- 
rupted, their  reformation  can  be  looked  for  from  the  laity 
oqIv,  and  not  from  themfelves.  There  is  an  obfervation 
to  this  purpofe  in  the  Rev.  Dr.  Robertfon's  hiftory,*  which 
deferves  to  be  written  in  letters  of  gold  :  "  They"  (i.  e. 
the  Proteilants)  *'  applied  to  another  AiTembly,  to  a  con- 
*'  vocation  of  the  Popifh  clergy ;  but  with  the  fame  ill 
*'  fuccefs  which  hath  always  attended  every  propofal  for 
"  reformation  addreifed  to  that  order  of  men.  To  aban- 
"  don  ufurpcd  power,  to  renounce  lucrative  error,  is  a 
"  facrifice,  which  the  virtue  of  individuals  has,  on  fome 
"  occafions,  offered  to  truth  ;  but  from  any  fociety  of  men, 
"  no  fuch  effort  can  be  expe61:ed.  The  corruptions  of  a 
*'  fociety,  recommended  by  common  utility,  andjuilified 
'Vby  univerfal  pradlice,  are  viewed  by  its  members  with- 
*'  out  fhame  or  horror  ;  and  reformation  never  proceeds 
"  from  themfelves,  but  is  always  forced  upon  them  by 
"  fome  foreign  hand."  I  am  fo  much  of  that  eminent 
writer's  opinion,  that  I  look  upon  every  attempt  for  re- 
viving the  intereft  of  religon  as  quite  hopelefs,  unlefs  you 
be  pleafed  to  fapport  it ;  and,  at  the  fame  time,  am  not 
without  the  {Irongeft  expe6lation,  that  the  period  is  fail 
approaching,  when  you  will  fee  it   ncceffary  to  interpofe. 

Will  you  indulge  me  in  adding  a  fanciful  reafon  for  my 
hope.  Many  of  you  ha.ve  been  bred  to  the  fludy  of  the 
law.  Now,  I  have  obferved  in  reading  the  New  Telia- 
ment,  that  it  was  a  lawyer  who  took  care  of  the  body  of 
our  Saviour,  after  it  had  been  crucified  at  the  iniligation 
of  the  priells.  His  name  was  Jofeph  of  Arimathea,  '^  an 
''  honorable  man,  and  a  counfellor,"  and  the   fa6t  is  re- 

*  Vol.  I.  p.  143. 


Dedication,  169 

tbrded  by  all  the  four  evangelifts.  Who  knows  therefore 
but  the  gentlemen  of  the  fame  profeffion  among  us  may- 
be the  inftruments  of  delivering  the  church,  which  is 
Chrift's  myllical  body,  from  the  tyrannical  impofitions  of 
churchmen  in  poM'er  ? 

Look  into  the  hiftory  of  this  and  every  other  church,  and 
you  will  fee,  that  tlie  laity  never  lent  their  influence  to 
promote  the  ambition  and  fecular  greatnefs  ofecclefiaftics, 
but  they  received  their  reward  in  ingratitude  and  con- 
tempt. I  have  heard  many  of  you  praifed  as  great  friends 
to  the  church.  By  this  is  meant,  that  you  have  a  friend- 
ship for,  and  are  ready  to  increafe  the  revenues  and  world- 
ly convenience  of  thofe  who  bear  the  facred  office,  who 
are  alfo  called  Clergy.  I  beg  leave  to  obferve,  that  the 
wifeft  of  mankind  are  fometimcs  deceived  by  words,  and 
patiently  fubmit  to  gradual  and  infenfible  ufurpations. 
Both  the  words  Clergy  and  Church  are  an  incroachment 
of  the  teachers  upon  you,  and  all  the  other  hearers  of  the 
gofpel.  The  firll  of  them  comes  from  axyifo^,  which  fig- 
nifies  inheritance,  and  when  appropriated  to  miniilers, 
feems  to  intimate  that  they  alone  are  God's  inheritance, 
w^hile  furely  fome  of  the  people  are  as  much  his  inheri- 
tance as  they.  The  word  Church  is  a  Scripture  phrafe, 
and  is  ufed  about  one  hundred  times  in  the  New  Tella- 
ment.  But  of  all  thefe,  in  not  above  one  or  two  at  moft 
can  it  be  pretended  to  fignify  the  miniilers,  exclufive  of 
the  people.  Therefore  if  you  be  friends  to  the  church, 
take  the  word  in  its  proper  and  genuine  fenfe,  and  admit 
the  people  to  a  due  proportion  of  your  favor. 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  blame  thofe  who  iliev/  a  friendfliin 
and  attachment  to  miniilers,  and  wilh  to  fee  them  com- 
fortably and  decently  provided  for.  This  is  highly  ne- 
ceflary  to  free  thern  from  that  anxiety  and  folicitude  which 
is  infeparable  from  a  poor  and  dependant  Hate.  But  why 
are  they  to  be  provided  for  at  all  ?  or  v/by  is  it  an  amia- 
ble chara6ler  to  be  a  friend  to  the  church  ?  Surely  that 
the  great  ends  of  their  ilicred  fundlion  may  be  promoted  ; 
that,  freed  from  the  neceifity  of  attending  to  fecular  pur- 
faits,  they  may  have  liberty  to  bellow  their  time  and  pains 
for  the  fpiritual  beneiit  of  thofe  committed  to  their  care. 

Vol.  III.  Y 


170 


Dedication. 


For  this  reafon,  I  humbly  mtreat  you,  who,  by  your 
exalted  ftations,  only  can  do  it  with  fuccefs,  to  frown  up- 
on the  luxurious  and  afpiring,  to  encourage  the  humble 
and  diligent  clergyman.  The  intereft  of  religion  in  this 
nation,  is  an  obje6l  of  the  higheft  value  in  itfelf,  and  in- 
feparable  from  our  temporal  profperity.  On  both  ac- 
counts I  hope  it  will  be  the  object  of  your  moft  tender 
care  ;  and,  in  return,  may  it  pleafe  God  to  make  you 
know  to  your  happy  experience  the  truth  of  his  own  word, 
''  Them  that  honor  me,  I  will  honor  ;  but  they  that  de- 
**  fpife  me,  lliall  be  lightly  elleemed." 

lam,  &.C. 


[     171    ] 
A    SERIOUS 


APOLOGY 


rOR     THE 


ECCLESIASTICAL    CHARACTERISTICS. 


THE  Ecclefiallical  Charaderiftics  is  evidently  a  fa- 
tire  upon  clergymen  of  a  certain  chara6ler.  It  is 
a  fatire  too,  which  every  body  mull  fee  was  intended  to 
carry  in  it  no  fmall  meafure  of  keennefs  and  feverity. 
This  was  to  he  expedled  from  the  nature  and  defign  of 
the  performance.  A  fatire  that  does  not  bite  is  good  for 
nothing.  Hence  it  neceflarily  follows,  that  it  is  eflential 
to  this  manner  of  writing,  to  provoke  and  give  offence. 
The  greateft  fatirifts,  in  all  ages,  have  made  juft  as  many 
enemies  to  themfelves,  as  they  expofed  objedls  of  fcorn 
and  derifion  to  the  public*  It  was  certainly,  on  this  ac- 
count, eafy  to  forefee  what  would  be  the  effedl  of  the  pub- 
lication of  fuch  a  piece,  if  it  was  executed  in  a  tolerable 
manner ;  and  therefore  I  hope  every  impartial  perfon  will 
not  only  acquit  me  of  blame,  but  confefs  I  atled  very 
prudently  in  not  fetting  my  name  to  the  work. 

The  event  juftified  this  precaution.  The  rage  and 
fury  of  many  minillers  in  Scotland  when  this  pamphlet 
was  firft  publilhed,  is  known  almofl  to  all  its  readers, 

*  Hifloiy  informs  us,  that  Horace,  for  his  admired  fatires,  had 
many  private  enemies  in  Rome  ;  and  it  has  been  laid,  that  our  coun- 
tryman Mr.  Pope  durft  hardly  walk  the  flrcets  of  London,  fome  yearq 
before  his  death,  throiighfear  of  being  attacked  or  piOoIed,  even  when 
he  met  witih  the  highefl  encouragement  frcm  t'.e  nubile. 


iy2  yl  Serious  Apology  for  the 

The  moil  opprobrious  names  were  bellowed  upon  the  con- 
cealed author,  and  the  moft  dreadful  threatenings  ut- 
tered, in  cafe  they  fliould  be  fo  fortunate  as  to  difcover 
and  convi<51;  him.  One  gentleman  in  particular,  who 
fell  under  the  imputation  of  being  concerned  in  it,  has 
ever  fmce  been  the  obje6l  of  theh'  detefuitlon  and  refent- 
Hient ;  although  I  think  it  remains  yet  very  uncertain, 
v/hat  hand  he  had,  or  whether  h.e  had  any  hand  at  all,  in 
its  compofition  :  a  queftlon  which  I  hope  the  prefent  pro- 
duftion,  by  a  comparifon  v/ith  his  other  wprks,  will  ena- 
ble the  fliarp-fighted  public  to  determine. 

But  though  I  had  by  good  management  provided  my- 
felf  a  flielterfrom  tlie  ilorm,  it  is  not  to  be  fuppofed  but  I 
heard  it  well  enough  rattling  over  my  head.  The  truth 
is,  I  have  liftened  with  all  pofllble  attention  to  the  objec- 
tions raifed  againft  this  performance ;  and  found  with 
much  concern,  that  the  great  endeavor  of  its  enemies  has 
been  to  reprefent  the  general  defign  of  it  as  contrary  to 
the  intereft  of  religion  ;  and  the  fpiiit  and  manner  of  it, 
as  inconfiilent  with  the  Chriftian  temper,  The  common 
cry  has  been,  ''  I'he  author  mull  be  a  man  of  a  bad  heart 

*'  — No  good  man  could  write  fuch  a  piece."   This  has 

given  me  an  irrefiftible  inclination,  upon  notice  that  a 
new  edition  of  it  is  intended,  to  fend  into  the  world,  at 
the  fame  time,  a  ferious  apology  for  it,  not  only  for  my 
own  vindication,  but  that  if  it  hath  any  capacity  of  doing 
good,  this  happy  purpofe  may  not  be  defeated  by  the  im- 
plicit credit  given  to  {o  heavy  an  accufation. 

In  entering  upon  this  tafli,  I  take  the  liberty  to  affirm, 
that  what  lirll  induced  me  to  write,  was  a  deep  concern 
for  the  declining  intereft  of  rehgion  in  the  church  of 
Scotland,  mixed  with  fome  indignation  at  what  apj^eared 
to  me  a  ftrange  abufe  of  church- authority  in  the  year^ 
1 751  and  1752.*     The  reafons  of  its  particular  ftrudlure 

*  This  refers  to  tl"e  rcbujclng  and  depofing'  minifters  who  did  not 
think  thcmfelves  at  liberty  to  join  in  the  ord:i);;tiorj  of  a  paflor  with- 
out a  people.  'I'he  iirll  ^v'as  done  in  the  caie  of  Mr.  Adam  and  the 
preA)ytery  of  Linlithgow,  v/ho  declined  being  piefent  at  tl;e  fettle- 
)ment  of  Tcrphiclien  ;  the  fecond,  in  the  caie  of  Mr.  Gillefpie,  la  the 
Icttlement  of  Inverkeilhiiic^. 


Eccksiastical  Characteristics.  17-3 

will  be  given  afterwards  :  in  the  mean  time,  the  reader 
may  reft  afTured,  that  this  defence  fhall  be  wholly  ferioiis, 
and  fnall  not  contain  a  fmgle  propofition  which,  in  its 
plain  and  literal  meaning,  the  author  does  not  believe  to 
be  true.  Not  {o  much  as  attempting  to  borrow  any  affif- 
tance  from  wit  and  ridicule,  he  fubmits  his  caufe  to  be 
tried  by  calm  difpaffionate  reafoning,  and  only  begs  the 
impartial  attention  of  the  reader. 

To  free  the  queftion  from  ambiguity,  it  will  be  necef- 
fary  to  confider  the  performance  diilin^tly,  under  the  three 
following  heads,  i.  The  fubjeQ  of  it  in  general ;  which 
is  confelfed  to  be  an  attack  upon  the  principles,  manners, 
and  political  conduct  of  certain  clergymen.  2.  Why  it 
is  written  in  an  aifumed  character  and  ironical  ftyle.  3. 
What  occafion  was  given  for  it  by  thole  to  whom  it  was 
evidently  applied,  viz,  the  minifters  of  our  ownxhurch. 

I.  Let  us  confider  the  fubjedl  in  general,  viz.  attacking 
and  expofing  the  characters  of  clergymen.  While  I  am 
fpeaking  upon  this  head,  I  muft  take  it  for  granted,  that 
the  faults  are  real ;  tha.t  the  fatire  and  reproofs  are  juil. 
An  obje<5llon  againil  the  performance  has  been  often 
made  to  this  purpofe  :  ''  Suppofmg  the  things  cenfured 
''  to  be  true,  what  end  does  it  ferve  to  publifh  them  r — 
"  If  tendernefs  for  the  reputation  of  the  offenders  could 
**  not  prevent  fuch  cruel  treatment,  ought  not  a  regard 
''  for  the  edification  of  others,  and  the  fuccefs  of  the  gof- 
''  pel  in  their  hand,  to  have  difpofed  a  good  man  to  throve 
"  a  veil  over  their  infirmities  ?  Is  not  religion  wounded 
'*'  through  their  fides,  and  occafion  given  to  infidels  to 
*'  triumph  ?'' 

'In  aniwer  to  this,  I  confcfs  myfelf  to  have  very  dliTer- 
.ent  views  of  things  from  thofe  who  fpeak  in  this  m,anner. 
Nay,  I  believe,  that  though  there  are  fome  who  fpeak  as 
they  think,  yet  it  is  much  more  frequently  the  language 
of  thofe  who  wifh  nothing  {0  much  as  the  undiilurbed 
indulgence  of  themfelves  in  floth,  luxury,  or  gi-oiler 
crimes.  I  am  altogether  at  a  lofs  to  know  what  is  the 
argument  in  reafon,  or  the  precept  in  Scripture,  vv^hich 
makes  it  criminal  to  cenfare  miniilers  when  thej^  deferve 
p     That  tiieir  nation^  like  tli-at  of  all  other  perlbns  of 


174  -^  Serimis  Apology  for  the 

influence,  or  in  public  employment,  lliould  make  men 
very  tender  and  cautious  how  they  take  up  an  evil  report 
againft  them,  and  careful  never  to  do  it  but  on  good 
grounds,  I  readily  allow  ;  but  where  the  charadler  is  really- 
bad,  I  hold  it  as  a  firfl  principle,  that  as  it  is  in  them 
doubly  criminal  and  doubly  pernicious,  fo  it  ought  to  be 
expofed  with  double  feverity.  This  is  fo  far  from  being 
contrary  to  the  intereft  of  religion,  even  when  done  by  a 
clergyman,  that  nothing  can  be  more  honorable  to  it, 
than  to  fhow  that  there  are  fome  fo  bold  as  to  reprove, 
and  fo  faithful  as  to  withlland  the  corruptions  of  others. 
How  lur  fecret  wickednefs  fliould  be  concealed,  or  fcenes 
oF  iniquity  not  laid  open,  and  fo  fm  turned  into  fcandal 
in  minillers,  is  a  matter  that  would  require  a  very  careful 
and  accurate  difcuffion,  and  admits  of  many  exceptions : 
but  if,  in  any  cafe,  erroneous  do6lrine,  or  degeneracy  of 
life,  is  plain  and  vifible  ;  to  render  them  completely 
odious,  muft  certainly  be  a  duty.  V/hen  it  is  not  done, 
it  provokes  men  to  conclude  the  clergy  all  combined  to. 
gether,  like  "  Demetrius  and  the  craftsmen,"  and  more 
concerned  for  their  ov/n  power  and  credit,  than  for  the 
interefl  and  benefit  of  thole  committed  to  their  charge. 

That  irreligion  and  infidelity  has  made  a  rapid  progrefs 
among  us  for  fome  time  paft,  is  a  certain,  and  a  melan- 
choly truth.  Well !  perhaps  I  (hall  be  told.  That  I  have 
contributed  to  flrengthen  the  caufe  of  infidelity  among 
the  quality  and  gentry,  by  giving  them  fuch  a  reprefenta- 
tion  of  the  clergy.  I  anlwer,  That  gentlemen's  forming 
a  bad  opinion  of  clergymen  contributes  to  promote  in. 
fidelity,  I  will  by  no  means  deny  ;  fo  far  from  it,  I  affirm 
that  without  this,  all  other  caufes  put  together,  would  not 
be  able  to  produce  it  in  any  great  degree.  The  great,  as 
well  as  the  vulgar,  are  always  more  influenced  in  their 
regard  for»  or  contempt  of  religion,  by  what  they  fee  in 
the  characters  and  behavior  o^  men,  than  by  any  fpecu- 
lative  reafonings  whatever.  This  is  what  they  them- 
felves  make  no  fcruple,  on  many  occafions,  to  confefs. 
Bifhop  Burnet,  in  his  Difcourfe  of  the  Pafioral  Care, 
acquaints  us,  that,  "  having  had  much  free  converfation 
**  with  many  that  have  been  fatally  corrupted  that  way, 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics,  175 

*'  they  have  very  often  owned,  that  nothing  promoted 
"  this  fo  much  in  them  as  the  bad  opinion  which  they 
*'  took  up  of  clergymen.  They  did  not  fee  in  them,'* 
fays  he,  "  that  flridlnefs  of  life,  that  contempt  of  the 
*'  world,  that  zeal,  that  meekneis,  humility  and  charity, 
"  that  diligence  and  earneftnefs,  with  relation  to  the 
"  great  truths  of  the  Chrillian  religion,  which  they  rec- 
*'  koned  they  would  moft  certainly  have,  if  they  them- 
"  felves  firmly  believed  it ;  therefore  they  concluded,  that 
'^  thofe  whofe  bufmefs  it  was  more  ftrictly  to  inquire  into 
"  the  truth  of  their  religion,  knew  that  it  was  not  fo  cer- 
"  tain  as  they  themfelves,  for  other  ends  endeavored  to 
"  make  the  world  believe  it  was.'' 

But  the  great,  or  rather  the  only  queftion  yet  remains  : 
Did  the  publication  of  the  charadleriflics  give  the  firft 
occafion  to  fuch  reiie^lions  in  Scotland  ?  Was  the  firft 
information  gentlemen  had  of  the  characters  of  the  clergy 
ijirawn  from  that  performance  ?  This,  which  mult  be 
the  very  foundation  of  the  objeftion  v/e  are  confidering, 
is  not  true ;  and  indeed  it  is  not  poflible  in  the  nature  of 
things,  that  it  Ihould  be  true.  If  there  be  any  fuch  thing 
as  corruption  among  the  clergy,  by  neglect  of  duty,  lux- 
ury  in  drefs  or  table,  laxnefs  in  principle,  or  Ucentiouf- 
jiefs  of  practice,  it  can  be  no  fecret  to  people  of  figure 
and  fafhion.  It  is  commonly  in  their  Ibciety  that  the 
moft  free  converfation  and  unclerical  carriage  is  found 
among  gentlemen  of  the  facred  order.  And  though  fome 
of  the  laity  who  regret  fuch  indecencies,  may  have  fo 
much  good  manners  as  to  forbear  upbraiding  them  open- 
ly, and  others  may  perhaps  not  be  difpleafed  at  the  re- 
moval of  all  reftraints,  either  from  the  difcipline  or 
example  of  minifters ;  yet  it  is  well  known  how  little  to 
their  advantage  perfons  of  both  forts  have  talked,  long 
before  the  Gharadleriftics  had  a  being.  So  that,  infiead 
of  any  public  rebuke  being  the  occafion  of  gentlemen's 
forming  a  bad  opinion  of  the  clergy,  the  laft,  on  the  con- 
trary, gave  a  manifeft  occafion  for  the  firfi:,  if  it  did  not 
make  fomething  of  that  kind  indlfpenfibly  necefiary. 

Many  wrong  opinions  arife  from  confounding  things  that 
have  fome  relation  tg  one  another^  but  are  notwithiland- 


1)6  A  Serious  Apology  for  the 

ing  efientially  diflindl:.  Thus  what  ought  really  to  be 
imputed  to  the  crime,  is  frequently  imputed  to  the  pu- 
niiliment.  Becaufe  a  bad  opinion  of  the  clergy  leads  m.en 
to  infidelity,  therefore,  fay  fome,  cover  their  failings,  and 
palliate  their  crimes  ;  to  expofe  them  is  doing  hurt  to  re- 
ligion. On  the  contrary,  I  reckon  it  is  far  more  con- 
clufive  to  fay,  Becaufe  the  bad  characters  of  the  clergy 
are  extremely  huitful  to  religion,  let  them  be  told,  that 
the  greateft  ilrldlnefs  and  purity  of  manners  is  expelled 
from  them  ;  and  if  any  will  not  comply,  let  the  guilty 
perfons  be  chaftifed,  that  the  honor  of  the  order  may  be 
preferved.  I  was  never  better  pleafed  with  a  flory  than 
one  I  have  read  of  the  late  Duke  of  Orleans^,  regent  of 
France.  It  happened,  that  during  his  regency,  one  of 
the  French  princes  of  the  blood  was  convicted  of  com- 
mitting robbery  on  the  highway.  Great  interceflion  was 
made  Vv^ith  the  regent,  to  fave  him  from  the  ignominy  of 
a  public  execution,  v/hich,  it  was  alledged,  would  be  an 
indelible  ilain  upon  the  royal  blood.  To  this  the  Duke 
replied,  The  royal  blood  is  indeed  deeply  ftained,  hut  -it 
was  ftained  by  the  commiffion  of  tlie  crime  ;  the  putiiih- 
iT.ent  will  only  ferve  to  wafli  out  the  ilain  as  far  as  that 
is  now  poiTible. 

Chriilians  may,  if  they  pleafe,  learn  what  ought  to  be 
their  own  conduct,  by  obierving  the  contraiy  conduct  of 
infidels,  who  generally  underfland  what  is  the  real  in- 
tereil:  of  that  unhappy  caufe.  It  is  of  no  confequeilce  to 
an  infidel  to  make  it  appear  that  there  are  fome  minifters 
bad  nien.  His  great  bufmefs  is,  to  transfer  the  faults  of 
particulars  to  the  whole  order,  and  to  infmuate,  that, 
*' prieOs  of  all  religions  are  the  fame."  This  appears 
from  the  general  firain  of  their  writings  and  converfa- 
lion.  Neither  is  it  uncomm.on  to  fee  infidels,  who  on 
ail  occafions  difcoverthe  mod  rancorous  malace  againft 
minillers  of  the  gofpel  in  general,  maintain  the  greateft 
intimacy  v/ith  fome  particulars  of  that  denomination. 
Whether  their  friendfhip  is  an  honor  or  difgrace  to  the 
perfons  fo  dilHnguiflied,  I  think  is  not  difficult  to  deter- 
mine. However,  in  oppofition  to  this  condud,  every 
real  Chriitian,  while  he  maintahis  upon  his    mind   the 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics,  177 

deepefl  fenfe  of  the  importance  and  ufefulnefs  of  the 
facred  office,  fhould,  at  the  fame  time,  hold  in  deteflati- 
on  thofe  who,  by  an  unworthy  behaviour,  expofe  it  to 
contempt. 

That  lam  not  fmgular  in  this  opinion,  appears  from 
the  hiftory  of  the  Chriftian  church  in  every  age.  Were 
it  not  that  it  might  be  confidered  as  an  unnecefTary  often- 
tation  of  learning,  I  could  eafily  fhew,  from  almofl:  every 
writer  renowned  for  piety  and  worth,  with  what  bold- 
nefs  and  feverity  they  treated  the  corrupt  clergy  of  their 
own  times.  And  what  is  remarkable,  though  their  cha- 
radlers  have  now  received  a  fanclion  from  their  antiquity, 
and  indeed  a  luflre  from  this  very  zeal  and  fidelity  ;  yet 
while  they  lived,  their  invedtives  were  conilantly  com- 
plained of  by  the  indolent  or  vicious  of  their  contempo- 
raries, as  injurious  to  the  interefls  of  religion.  That  this 
was  the  cafe  at  the  reformation,  may  be  eafily  feen  by 
any  who  will  look  but  a  little  into  the  vvritings  of  that 

age. In  our  neighbor  country,    when  Mr.  Richard 

Baxter  wrote  his  Gildas  Salvianus,  or,  Reformed  Paflor, 
which  contained  a  very  plain  and  very  fevere  repreheni. 
iion  of  his  brethren  the  clergy,  the  fame  objection  was 
made  againfl  tlie  publication  of  it,  at  leaft  in  the  Englilh 
language,  by  fome  prudent  fofteners.  To  this  he  an- 
fwers,  among  other  things,  as  follows.  **-  V/hen  the  fin 
*'  is  open  in  the  fight  of  the  world,  it  is  in  vain  to  at- 
"  tempt  to  hide  it;  andfuch  attempts  will  but  aggravate 
"  it,  and  increafe  our  fliame.  If  the  miniiters  of  En- 
''  gland  had  finned  only  in  Latin,  I  would  have  made 
"  Ihift  to  have  admoniflied  them  in  Latin  ;  but  if  they 
*'  will  fin  in  Knglifh,  they  muft  hear  it  in  Engliih, 
*'  Unpardoned  fin  will  never  let  us  reil,  though 
''  we  be  at  ever  fo  much  care  and  cofl  to  cover 
"  it.  Our  fm  will  furely  find  us  out,  though  we  find 
"  not  it.  And  if  he  that  confeffeth  and  forfaketh  be  the 
"  man  that  fliall  have  mere}',  no  wonder  tlien  if  he  that 
"  coveteth  it  profper  not.  IF  we  be  fo  tender  of  ourfelves, 
^*  and  loth  to  confefs,  God  will  be  lefs  tender  of  us,  and 
"  indite  our  conieilions  forus. — Too  many  that  have  fet 
*'  their  hand  to  this  facred  work,    do  fo   obfiinatelv  pro- 

VOL.  III.  Z 


178  A  Serious  Apology  for  the 

*'  ceed  in  felf-feeking,  negligence,  and  pride,  S?.c.  that 
*^'  it  is  become  our  neceflary  duty  to  admonifh  them.  If 
"  we  could  fee  that  fuch  would  reform  without  reproof, 
"  we  could  gladly  forbear  the  publifhing  of  their  faults ; 
"  but  when  reproofs  themfelves  do  prove  fo  ineffedlual, 
that  they  are  more  offended  at  the  reproof,  than  at  the 
fin,  and  had  rather  that  we  Ihould  ceafe  reproving,  than 
themfelves  fhould  ceafe  finning,  I  think  it  is  time  to 
fharpen  the  remedy." 
I  ihall  produce  but  one  example  more,  to  which  I  beg 
the  attention  of  thofe  who  have  been  inadvertently  taught 
to  think  that  one  who  endeavors  to  expofe  the  chara6lers 
of  the  clergy  cannot  be  a  good  man.  Does  not  all  hiftory 
bear  teflimony  to  the  learning,  piety,  and  worth  of  the 
gentlemen  of  the  Port-royal,  a  fociety  of  Janfenifts,  who, 
a  little  more  than  an  hundred  years  ago,  made  a  moll  vio- 
lent attack  upon  the  Jefuits  in  France  ;  particularly  M. 
Pafcal,  in  his  Provincial  Letters,  which  are  written  almoft 
entirely  in  the  way  of  wit  and  humor.  Thefe  pieces 
are  flill  univerfally  admired ;  nor  are  they  at  this  time 
counted  any  objeftion  to  his  charadler  for  piety  and  in- 
tegrity. At  the  time  of  publication,  however,  the  very 
fame  objections  which  are  now  made  to  the  Chara6lerif- 
tics,  were  made  to  his  writings.* 

The  reader  may  poifibly  recolledl,  that  I  hinted  above, 
a  fufpicion,  that  many  are  not  fincere  in  offering  this  ob- 
je6lion.  One  reafon  for  this  fufpicion  I  am  almofl  afhamed 
to  mention,  for  the  reproach  which  it  brings,  in  my  ap- 
prehenfion,  upon  many  members  of  the  church  of  Scot- 
land ;  but  as  it  is  well  known,  it  is  unneceffary  to  con- 
ceal it,  and  in  my  own  defence  I  am  intitled  to  repeat  it. 
There  have  been,  within  thefe  few  years,  writings  pub- 
liflied  in  Scotland  diredlly  levelled  againfl:  religion  itfelf, 
taking  away  the  very  foundations  of  morality,  treating  our 
Redeemer's  name  with  contempt  and  derifion,  and  bring- 
ing in  doubt  the  very  being  of  a  God.  Writings  of  this 
kind  have  been  publicly  avowed,  and  the  names  of  the 
authors  prefixed.     Now,  where  has  been  the  zeal  of  the 

*  This  any  man  may  fee,  who  will  look  at  his  eleventh  letter,  and 
fome  of  the  fubfequent  ones,  as  well  as  the  notes  on  them,  which  arc 
generally  afcribed  to  Mr.  Arnauld. 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics,  179 

enemies  of  the  Chara6leriftics  againfi:  fuch  writings  ?  Have 
they  moved  for  the  exercife  of  difcipline  againit  the  wri- 
ters ?  Have  they  fupported  the  motion  when  made  by 
others  ?  Are  not  books  in  oppofition  to  the  gofpel,  and 
abufmg  all  clergymen,  as  fuch,  more  contrary  to  the  in- 
tereft  of  religion,  than  one  which  only  impeaches  the  fide- 
lity of  a  part  of  that  order,  from  at  lead  a  profeffed  concern 
for  the  honor  of  the  whole  ?  Does  not  this  tempt  men  to  fay, 
^s  was  faid  an  age  ago  by  Moliere  in  France,  or  by  fome 
there,  on  occafion  of  a  play  of  his  called  the  TartufFe, 
That  a  man  may  write  what  he  pleafeth  againfi  God  Al- 
mighty in  perfe6l  fecurity  ;  but  if  he  write  againil  the  cha^ 
ra6lers  of  the  clergy  in  power,  he  is  ruined  forever. 

Another  reafon  why  I  fufpedl  the  finceritv  of  the  ene- 
-mies  of  the  Characteriftics,  when  they  pretend  a  regard 
for  the  intereil  of  religion  as  the  ground  of  their  difplea- 
fure,  is,  that  it  hath  often  happened,  that  both  fpeakers 
and  writers  have  charged  another  party  of  the  minillers 
of  the  church  of  Scotland  whh  hypocrify  and  deceit,  the 
moll  villainous  of  all  characters  ;  and  yet  it  never  occur- 
red to  thefe  gentlemen,  that  fuch  a  charge  was  hurtful  to 
the  intereil  of  religion.  I  am  now  to  let  the  reader  into  a 
lecret.  What  very  much  contributed  or  rather  indeed 
what  chiefly  brought  me  to  a  refolution  of  publifhing  the 
Chara6teriflics,  was  a  pamphlet  publifhed  a  few  months 
before  it,  called,  A  jull  view  of  the  conilitution  of  the 
church  of  Scotland.     This  univerfal  uncontradicted  fame 

attributed  to  the  late  Dr.  H n  :  and  the  exprefs  pur- 

pofe  of  it  is,  to  reprefent  a  certain  fet  of  minillers,  as  agi- 
tators of  the  people,  and  in  general,  as  not  aCling  upon 
confcience,  even  where  they  pretend  it,  but  from  a  love 
of  popularity.  Befides  this  he  tells  a  ftory,  which  he 
calls  a  "  fcene  of  iniquity,"  with  the  initial  letters  of  the 
names  of  the  perfons  fuppofed  to  be  guilty.  Was  ever 
this  pamphlet  charged  by  my  enemies  as  contrary  to  the 
intereil  of  religion  ?  It  will  not  be  pretended.  Now,  I 
ihould  be  glad  to  know,  what  it  is  that  makes  die  difcovery 
of  a  fcene  of  iniquity,  when  committed  by  fome  whom  I 
tiiuft  not  name,  contrary  to  the  intereil  of  religion,  but  the 
difcovery  of  a  fcene  of  iniquity  committed  by  certain 


i8o  J.  Serious  Apology  for  the 

others,  no  way  contrary  to  it  at  all  ?  I  am  not  able  to  find 
any  reafon  for  this  difference  of  judgment  but  one,  which 
is  not  very  honorable  to  them,  viz.  That  perhaps  fcenes 
of  iniquity  fuppoied  to  be  committed  by  them,  are  more 
probable  in  themfelves,  and  actually  obtain  more  credit, 
than  thofe  which  they  alledge  againd  others.  I  do  not  af- 
firm that  this  is  the  reafon :  but  I  think,  fmce  they  had 
been  the  aggreffors,  both  in  cenfuring  minifters  for  fcru- 
pling  obedience  to  their  unconftitutional  decifions,  and 
attacking  their  charafters  in  print ;  if  fome  namelefs  au- 
thor thought  lit  to  retaliate  the  injury  in  the  lall  kind,  and 
did  it  with  fo  great  fuccefs,  they  ought  to  have  lain  as  qui- 
et under  it  as  poifible,  both  from  equity  and  prudence ; 
from  equity,  becaufe  they  had  given  the  provocation  ; 
and  from  prudence,  becaufe  in  fa£l  their  condu6lten^|:'ted 
many  to  fay,  The  charge  muft  have  been  juft,  or  it  w>  .  Id 
have  been  treated  with  contempt ;  the  llroke  muit  i  ^A't; 
been  well  aimed,  the  wound  muil:  have  been  very  d'::e;\ 
fmce  the  fear  continues  fo  long,  and  is  never  li'.(  '  oe 
either  forgotten  or  forgiven. 

This,  however,  is  in  itfelfbutof  fmall  momer-i.  It 
would  be  of  little  confequence  whether  their  conctu4t  bad 
been  reafonable  and  confident  or  not,  if  the  objection  it- 
felf  were  juft.  But  I  hope  it  appears  very  clearly,  fi-om 
what  I  have  offered  above,  that  fuppofin^o;  the  c6ndii6l  of 
the  clergy  to  be  unbecoming  their  profeilion,  a  recrard  to 
religion  not  only  permits,  but  loudly  calls  for  a  fevere 
reprehenfion  of  it.  This  is  agreeable  to  the  fentiments 
and  pradlice  of  the  wifeft  and  beft  men  in  ^vtry  age. 
There  have  been  indeed  a  few  exceptions  :  but  the  lenity 
which  fome  excellent  perfons  have  fliewn  to  the  vices  of 
the  clergy,  has  been  generally  reckoned  among  their 
weakneffcs  and  not  their  virtues.  I  mention  this,  left  it 
fhould  come  into  any  perfon's  mind,  what  is  related  of 
Conftantine  the  Great,  viz.  that  when  he  received  a  bun- 
dle of  papers,  which  he  was  told  contained  accufations 
againft  the  vicious  part  of  the  clergy,  he  publicly  burnt 
them,  afier  having  taken  an  oath  that  he  did  not  know 
what  they  contained ;  and  added,  that  though  he  Ihould 
fee  a  bilhop  in  the  very  ad  of  a  crime  that  fhall  be  namcr 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics.  i8i 

Ijefs  in  Englifli,'*  he  would  cover  him  with  his  purple. 
If  the  account  be  true,  and  this  be  the  charity  which  feme 
plead  for  with  fo  great  earneflnefs,  one  can  hardly  help 
crying  out,  O  Emperor,  great  was  thy  charity. 

II.  According  to  the  diftribution  I  made  of  my  fubjc6l, 
the  next  point  is,  To  account  for  the  Chara6lerillics  be- 
ing written  in  an  afTumed  charadler  and  ironical  llyle. 
"  If  concern  for  the  interefl  of  religion  prompted  you,*' 
fay  fome,  "  to  attack  the  characters  of  the  clergy,  why 
*'  was  it  not  done  in  a  ferious  way  ?  Would  it  not  have 
'^  been  better,  gravely  to  have  convicted  tliem  of  their  fm, 
*'  and  warned  them  of  their  danger,  than  to  fet  them  in  a 
"  ridiculous  point  of  light,  and  expofe  them  to  the  pub- 
"  lie  fcorn  ?"  This  objeftion,  I  am  fenfible,  made  an 
impreffion  on  fome  well-meaning  perfons  ;  and  therefore 
it  will  be  neceffary  to  confider  it  with  care.  A  very  good 
man,  when  he  firft  read  the  Charadleriftics,  exprelfed 
himfelf  thus  :  *'  Alas  !  if  there  w^as  occafian  given  for  it, 
*'  would  it  not  have  been  better  to  have  had  rccourfe  to 
"  prayer  than  to  fatire  ?"  In  general,  I  humbly  appre- 
hend, there  is  no  oppofition  between  thefe  two  means  ; 
and  therefore,  in  many  cafes,  it  is  proper  to  employ 
both.  Let  me  therefore  intreat  the  attention  of  the  reader, 
while  I  briefly  confider,  firft,  the  law fulnefs  of  employing 
ridicule  in  fuch  a  caufe  ;  and  fecondly,  what  particular 
circumflances  concurred  to  render  it  the  moft  proper  me- 
thod, if  not  in  a  manner  neceffary,  in  the  inilance  before 
us. 

That  it  is  a  lawful  thing  to  employ  ridicule  in  fuch  a 
caufe,  is  evident  from  the  very  higheil  authority.  There 
are  many  inftances  of  irony  in  the  facred  writings.  In 
the  third  chapter  of  Genefis,  ver.  22.  Ave  have  an  expref- 
fion  ufed  by  God  himfelf,  which  interpreters  do  generally 
fuppofe  to  be  in  irony  :  and  as  it  is  of  the  moft  fevere 
and  penetrating  kind,  in  a  moft  deplorable  calamity,  fo 
I  cannot  well  imagine  v;hat  other  rational  meaning  can 
be  put  upon  the  words  :  ''  And  the  Lord  God  faid,  Be- 
"  hold,  the  man  is  become  as  one  of  us,  to  know  good 
'^  and  evil.*'     It  muft  be  remembered,  that   Adam  had 

*  Alieiuim  torum  labefadantem. 


1 82  A  Serious  Apology  for  the 

broke  his  Maker^s  command,  from  a  foolifh  expedation, 
upon  the  devil's  promife,  of  becoming  like  God.  On  this, 
an  ancient  interpreter  fays,  "  Adam  deferved  to  be  deri- 
"  ded  in  this  manner  ;  and  he  was  made  more  deeply 
*'  fenfible  of  his  folly  by  this  ironical  expreffion,  than  by 
"  any  other  that  could  have  been  ufed."  The  condu(^ 
of  Elijah,  and  his  treatment  of  the  prophets  of  Baal,  is 
another  known  example  of  the  fame  kind.  It  is  record- 
ed, I  Kings  xviii.  27.  ''  And  it  came  to  pafs  at  noon, 
"  that  Elijah  mocked  them,  and  faid,  Cry  aloud  :  for  he 
"  is  a  God,  either  he  is  talking,  or  he  is  purfuing,  or  he 
"  is  on  a  journey,  or  peradventure  he  lleepeth,  and  muft 
*'  be  awaked." 

There  are  feveral  inftances  of  the  fame  manner  of 
fpeaking  in  the  prophetical  books ;  particularly,  the  pro- 
phet Ifaiah,  in  an  admirable  manner,  and  at  great  length, 
expofes  the  fottifli  folly  of  idolaters.  The  paflages  are 
well  known  ;  as  are  alfo  fome  in  the  apoilolic  writings ; 
and  therefore  I  omit  them  for  the  fake  of  brevity  :  and  on- 
ly mention  an  expreffion  of  our  Saviour  himfelf,  who, 
though  a  man  of  forrows,  and  in  a  flate  of  humiliation, 
yet  in  fome  places  ufes  a  language  plainly  ironical ;  as  in 
John  X.  32.  "  Many  good  works  have  I  Ihewed  you  from 
^'  my  Father ;  for  which  of  thefe  works  do  ye  ftone  me  ?" 
It  was  certainly  making  them  very  ridiculous,  to  afk 
them,  for  which  of  his  good  works  they  propofed  to  Hone 
him,  as  well  as  it  was  the  llrongefl  way  of  fignifying  that 
he  had  never  done  any  works  among  them  but  fuch  as 
were  good. 

After  thefe  examples,  none  V\  ill  be  furprifed  when  I  fay, 
that  the  moR  grave  and  venerable  of  the  fathers  have  not 
only  wrote  in  this  manner  themfelves,  but  aflerted  its  ne- 
cefRty  and  ufe.  To  be  convinced  of  this,  let  any  man 
only  read  St.  Jerom,  in  his  letters,  and  his  writings  againft 
Jovian  and  the  Pelagians  ;  Tertullian,  in  his  apology 
againll  the  folly  of  idolaters ;  Augufiine,  Irenseus,  and 
Bernard,  and  many  others  of  the  niofl  approved  charac- 
ters. It  is  indeed  founded  upon  the  plainefl:  reafon. — 
There  is  commonly  a  pride  and  felf-fufficiency  in  men 
under  the  dominion  of  error,  which  makes   them  deaf  to 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics.  i8j 

advice,  and  impregnable  to  grave  and  ferious  reafoning  : 
neither  is  there  any  getting  at  them  till  their  pride  is 
levelled  a  little  by  this  dilmaying  weapon.  But  left  the 
I'eader  fhould  be  lefs  willing  to  yield  to  my  reafoning  than 
to  that  of  greater  men,  I  ihall  beg  leave  to  tranflate  three 
pafTages  from  three  different  writers  in  diftant  ages,  which 
could  not  be  more  applicable  to  the  times  in  which  they 
lived,  than  they  are  to  my  prefent  purpofe. 

The  firft  is  from  Tertullian :  *'  That  which  I  have 
*^  done,  is  nothing  elfe  but  a  play  before  the  real  combat. 
"*'  I  have  rather  pointed  out  the  wounds  which  might  be 
*'  given  you,  than  given  them  in  efFe6l.  If  there  are 
*'  places  which  oblige  people  to  laugh,  it  is  becaufe  ilie 
*'  fubje6ls  themfelves  are  ridiculous.  There  are  many 
*'  things  which  ought  to  be  treated  with  contempt  and 
"  mockery,  through  fear  of  giving  them  weight,  and 
"  making  them  important  by  ferioufly  debating  them. 
*'  Nothing  is  more  juftly  due  to  vanity  than  derifion;  and 
it  belongs  to  the  truth  to  fmile,  becaufe  it  is  chearful, 
and  todefpife  its  enemies,  becaufe  it  is  aflured  of  vi6to- 
ry.  It  is  true,  we  ought  to  be  careful  that  tlie  raillery 
*'  be  not  low,  and  unworthy  of  the  truth  ;  but  if  that  be 
"  attended  to,  and  one  can  ufe  it  with  addrefs  and  deli- 
*^  cacy,  it  is  a  duty  to  do  fo." 

The  Second  paflage  is  from  St.  Auguftine,  in  the  fol- 
lowing words  :  "  Who  will  dare  to  fay,  that  the  truth 
*'  ought  to  remain  defencelefs  againft  the  attacks  of 
"  fallhood  ?  That  the  enemies  of  religion  iliall  be  per- 
^.  mitted  to  terrify  the  faithful  with  ftrong  words,  and  to 
"  entice  or  feduce  them  by  agreeable  turns  of  wit ;  but 
*'  that  believers  ought  never  to  write  but  with  fuch  a 
*A  coldnefs  of  ftyle  as  to  lull  tlie  reader  alleep  ?" 

The  third  pafTage  is  from  Pafcal,  in  the  eleventh  of 
his  Provincial  Letters  :  **  As  the  truths  of  the  gofpel  are 
*'  the  proper  objedls  both  of  love  and  refpe6l,  fo  the  errors 
*'  which  are  oppofite  to  them  are  the  objects  both  of  hatred 
*'  and  contempt.  There  are  two  diftinil  qualities  in 
*'  the  firft,  a  divine  beauty  which  renders  them  amiable, 
*'  and  a  facred  majefty  which  renders  them  venerable  ; 
*'  there  are  alfo  in  the  lad,  a   <^avM  and   impiety   whicli 


«( 


u 


184  A  Serious  Apology  for  the 

*'  renders  them  horrible,  and  a  delufion  and  folly  which 
"  renders  them  filly  and  contemptible.  Wherefore,  as 
*'  the  faints  have  always,  for  truth,  the  united  afFeftions 
"  of  love  and  fear ;  fo,  for  error,  they  have  alfo  the  cor- 
*'  refpondent  fentiments  of  hatred  and  contempt.  Their 
*'  zeal  equally  difpofes  them  to  refift  the  malice  of  bad 
"  men  with  boJdnefs  and  courage,  and  to  difcredit  their 
*'  folly  by  derifioa  and  fcorn." 

That  it  is  lawful  in  fome  cafes  to  ufe  ridicule,  I  hope 
is  now  fufficiently  proved.  The  truth  is,  though  it  is 
common  and  natural  for  men  to  cry  out,  That  this  is  an 
unbecoming  manner  of  handling  the  fubjeft,  when  their 
own  miftakes  are  expofed  ;  yet  I  have  met  with  very  few 
controverfial  v/riters,  who  do  not,  in  proportion  to  their 
fKill,  endeavor  to  enlift  ridicule  in  the  fervice  of  reafon. 
It  is  often  indeed  a  forry  and  motley  mixture  of  grave 
and  comic  ;  but  it  fufficiently  fliews  the  natural  fenfe 
imen  have  of  the  propriety,  not  only  of  contradicting  what 
is  falfe,  but  fmiling  at  what  is  abfurd :  I  might  therefore 
very  juftly  reft  my  defence  here.  It  v/as,  in  the  firft 
place  my  bufmefs  to  judge,  whether  there  Vv^as  fufficient 
occafion  given  for  fuch  an  attempt,  as  well  as,  whether 
I  was  endov/ed  with  proper  talents  for  the  execution. 
After  this,  it  fell  of  courfe  to  the  readers  to  determine, 
how  far  I  had  judged  right  in  cither,  or  both  of  thefe  jiar- 
ticulars. 

But  as,  in  fa£l,  it  was  not  merely  the  lav/fulnefs  of  the 
thing  in  general,  nor  any  confidence  of  my  own  untried 
ability  in  that  way  of  writing,  that  determined  me  to  make 
choice  oF  it,  but  ibme  particular  circumftances  that  feem- 
ed  to  render  it  neceflary.  I  lliall  now  take  the  liberty 
of  laying  them  before  the  reader.  The  iirft  of  them  is 
the  reigning  tafte  of  the  age.  Nothing  is  more  plain, 
than  that  a  certain  levity  of  mind  prevails  at  prefent 
among  all  ranks ;  v/hich  makes  it  very  hard  to  nx  their 
attention  on  v.r\y  thing  that  is  ferious.  The  very  title  of 
a  grave  difcourie  is  fuff'cient  to  difgufc  many,  and  to  pre- 
vent them  from  ever  inquiring  v/hat  it  contains  :  fo  that 
though  I  refolve  to  adhere  to  my  promifc  at  firft  fetting 
out,  i  am  this  moment  writing  with  but  little  hope,  that 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics •  iSj, 

above  one  twentieth  part  of  the  readers  of  the  former 
treatife  will  vouchfafe  it  a  perufal.  Nay,  it  is  ten  to  one 
that  many  will  deny  this  to  be  the  work  of  the  former 
author  ;  and  affirm,  that  it  is  greatly  inferior  in  point  of 
ftyle  ;  that  is  to  fay,  no  llyle  appears  to  them  jufl  or  pure, 
but  that  which  is  humorous  and  poignant. 

Befides  levity,  or  an  averfion  to  what  is  ferious,  there 
is  another  charafteriftic  of  the  prefent  age,  which  is  per- 
haps the  child  of  the  former  ;  I  mean  lloth,  or  an  unwil- 
lingnefs  to  bellow  great  or  long  application  of  mind  upon 
any  fubjcdt,  be  it  what  it  will.  This  difpofition  has  been 
wonderfully  gratified,  and  wonderfully  increafed  by  the 
generality  of  writers  among  us  for  fome  time  paft.  The 
authors  of  periodical  publications,  fuch  as  reviews,  maga- 
zines, and  even  common  newfpapers,  for  their  own  in- 
terefl:,  have  long  vied  v/ith  one  another  in  the  variety  and 
livelinefs  of  the  pieces  which  make  up  their  feveral  col- 
lections. From  perufmg  thefe,  it  is  fo  eafy  to  get  a  little 
fuperficial  knowledge  of  every  fubjed,  that  few  look  any 
further  for  the  means  of  forming  their  opinions  in  reli- 
gion, government,  or  learning.  Another  fpecies  of  com- 
pofition,  proceeding  upon  the  fame  principles,  is  novels 
writing.  What  an  inundation  of  thefe  we  have  had  thefe 
twenty  years  paft  in  Great-Britain,  is  fufficiently  known. 
It  would  even  be  an  entertainment  to  enumerate  them 
by  their  titles,  and  fee  what  proportion  they  make  of  the 
whole  nev/  books  in  any  given  period  of  time. 

From  thefe  circumftances,  it  is  eafy  to  fee  what  an  in- 
tending author  muft  have  before  his  eyes.  Thofe  who 
have  long  had  their  appetites  quickened  by  variety 
of  difhes,  and  the  mofl  pleafmg  fauces,  are  not  able  to 
relifh  plainer,  though,  to  thofe  who  can  ufe  it,  far  better 
and  more  folid  food.  This  made  it  necelTary  for  me  to 
fall  upon  a  method  of  compofition  which  might  have 
fome  chance  to  procure  the  attention  of  the  public  ;  and 
I  could  think  of  none  more  proper  than  irony ;  which, 
when  well  executed,  is  almoft  univerfally  pleafmg.  Be- 
fides, I  muft  acknowledge,  that  the  conduct  of  the  pre- 
vailing party  did  often  appear  to  me  in  a  very  ridiculous 
light ;  and  never  more  'iOy  than  when  the  Chara^erillics 

V©L,  HI.  A  a 


tB6  A  Serious  Apology  for  the 

were  publifhed.  Moderation  had  been  long  a  faflitonabid 
or  cant  phrafe  among  them  ;  and  yet  they  were  run- 
ning headlong  into  the  mod  violent  and  tyrannical 
meafiires.  They  made  great  pretences  to  charity,  and  a 
large  manner  of  thinking;  and  as  a  telUmony  of  it,  ve- 
ry modellly  fuppofed,  that  all  who  did  not  form  the  fame 
opinions  in  religion  and  government  with  themfelves, 
were  weak  filly  fools,  except  two  or  three  knaves  who.  had 
the  diretlion  of  the  reft.  This,  I  do  affirm,  was  not 
barely  hinted,  but  openly  and  confidently  allerted ;  fo 
that  \  never  knew  greater  bigots,  in  the  proper  and  ge- 
nuine fenfe  of  that  word.  How  far  my  attempt  would  be 
fuccefsful,  could  only  be  guefled  at ;  but  I  imagined,  that 
if  I  could  exhibit  them  to  the  public  in  the  fame  light  in 
v/hich  they  appeared  to  myfelf,  they  would  make  a  pret- 
ty comical  figure  :  and  fo  it  happened  in  hdi.  My  firfl 
intention  was  only  to  have  publiflied,  in  May  1753,  a 
half  Iheet,  containing  the  maxims  themfelves,  under  the 
title  of,  "  A  lift  of  felf  evident  truths:"  but  that  having 
been  negledled,  upon  the  provocation  hinted  at  above,  the 
illuftrations  were  addtd,  and  fent  abroad  a  few  months 
afterwards,  in  the  form  they  now  bear. 

Another  circumftance  which  feemed  to  render  this  way 
of  writing  necefTary,  was  the  little  regard  that  had  been 
paid  to  feveral  well  written  treatifes  of  a  ferious  kmd.  The 
perfons  chiefly  pointed  at  in  the  Charadleriftics  had  greatly 
relaxed  difcipline  in  point  of  morals ;  had,  by  a  courfe 
of  decifions,  planted  the  country  with  ufelefs  minifters  ; 
and  though  the  whole  office  of  ordination  proceeds  upon 
the  fuppofition  of  a  call  from  the  people,  gravely  admit- 
ted them  without  any  call  at  all.  This,  when  done  as 
a  part  of  the  public  worfhip  of  God,  as  it  always  is,  muft  be 
confidered  by  every  impartial  perfon,  not  only  as  a  piece 
of  grofs  abfurdlty,  and  mocking  of  the  people,  but  a  piece 
of  flagrant  impiety,  and  mocking  of  God.  Confcicnti- 
ous  minifters  abfented  themfelves  from  thefe  pretended 
ordinations,  till  at  laft  it  came  into  the  heads  of  their  ene- 
mies to  force  them  to  be  prefent  under  pain  of  the  high- 
eft  cenfares  of  the  church.  They  had  the  hardinefs  all 
the  while  to  affirm,   that  this  was  abfolutely  necefTary  t» 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics'.  187 

fupport  the  conflitution  ;  although  every  man  muil  agree, 
fliat  if  any  of  otir  fathers,  who  lived  about  fifty  years 
ago,  were  to  rife  up  out  of  his  grave,  he  would  fay,  it 
was  the  conflitution  turned  upfide  down.  Many  at- 
tempts had  been  made  to  reafon  with  them,  and  clear  apr 
peals  to  thehiflory  and  Handing  a6ls  of  the  church  ;  but 
all  were  trodden  under  foot  by  the  decifions  of  the  annual 
aflemblies,  in  their  judicative  capacity.  Nay,  they  at 
laft  became  fo  confident  of  their  own  power,  and  fo  deaf 
to  all  reafoning  on  the  fubjeCt,  that  they  refufed  even  to 
read  what  was  written  by  thofe  of  different  fentiments  ; 
and  when  they  did  read  it,  difdaincd  to  make  any  anfwer 
to  it,  or  attempt  to  convince  them  any  other  way  than 
by  the  unanfwerable  argument  of  depofition..  This  in- 
duced me  to  write  in  a  manner  that  has  obliged  them  to^ 
hear  whether  they  will  or  not ;  and  though  it  has  not  been 
fo  happy  as  to  bring  them  to  conviction,  lam  fure  it  was  . 
no  more  than  well  merited  correction. 

One  other  reafon  I  fliall  mention  for  malting  choice  of 
this   way  of  writing,  was-  drawn  from  the  modern  no- 
tions of  philofophy,  which  had  lb  greatly  contributed  to 
the  corruption  of  the  clergy.     The  great  patron  and  ad- 
vocate forthefe  was  Lord  Shafifbury,  one  of  whofe  lead- 
ing principles  it  is,  that  "  Ridicule  is  the  tefl  of  truth," 
This  principle  of  his  had  been  adopted  by  many  of  the 
clergy ;  and  there  is  hardly  any  man  converfant  in  the 
literary  world,  who  has  not  heard  it  a  thoufand  times 
defended  in  converfation.     I  was  therefore  willing  to  try 
how  they  themfelves  could  (land  the  edge  of  this  weapon  ; 
hoping,  that  if  it  did  not  convince  them  of  the  folly  of 
the  other  parts  of  their  condu6l,  it  might  at  leafl.  put  the,m 
out  of  conceit  with  this  particular  opinion.     The  lai}   of 
thefe  I  do  really  think  the  publication  of  the  Charai^er- 
iftics  has,  in  a  great  meafure  effedted  ;   at  leafl  within  my 
narrow  fphere  of  converfation.     It  is  but  feldom  We  now 
hear  it  pretended,  that  ridicule  is  the  teft  of  truth.     If 
they  have  not  renounced  this  opinion,  they  at  leafl   keep 
it  more  to  themfelves,  and.  are.  lefs  infolent  upon  it  ill; 
their  treatment  of  others.. 


i;§8  A  Serious  Apology  for  the 


I  hope  the  reader  will  not  imagine,  that,  by  xvrefting 
this  principle  out  of  the  hands  of  my  adverfaries,  I  in- 
tend to  adopt  it  myfelf.  There  may  be  truth  in  it  in 
an  equivocal  fenfe  ;  for  to  be  fure  nothing  that  is  true 
can  be  really  ridiculous  :  but  there  are  few  things  more 
pernicious  than  this  principle,  as  it  is  commonly  imder- 
ilood  and  applied.  It  is  moil  certain,  that  many  things 
both  true  and  excellent  may,  by  a  perfon  pofiefled  of 
the  talent  of  humor,  be  made  apparently  ridiculous  :  and 
this  will  have  its  full  efFedl  upon  the  bulk  of  mankind, 
who  are  not  able  to  difcover  where  the  fallacy  lies.  Dr. 
Brown,  in  his  EOTays  on  the  Charadleriftics,  fays  with 
great  propriety,  That  ridicule  is  not  fitted  for  the  difco- 
very  of  truth  ;  for,  fo  far  as  it  is  diftinguifhed  from  rea- 
foning,  it  "  is  only  putting  imagination  in  the  place  of 
*'  reafon  ;"  than  which  few  things  are  more  ready  to  lead 
US  afcray.  But  he  allows,  that  it  is  very  proper  to  "  dif- 
*'  grace  known  falihood  :''  and  as  the  application  of  it  to 
this  purpofe  is  warranted  by  the  judgment  and  example 
of  the  beli:  and  wife  ft  men  in  all  ages,  there  was  nothing 
to  hinder  me  from  making  ufe  of  the  fame  privilege.  In 
the  mean  time,  if  there  has  been  any  chara6ter  of  real 
worth,  or  any  meafure  truly  commendable,  ridiculed  in 
the  treatife  now  under  confideration,  let  this  be  fhown  by 
clear  and  plain  deductions  of  reafon,  and  I  am  ready  to 
repent  of  it,  and  renounce  it. 

III.  This  leads  me  to  the  third  and  laft  part  of  my  de- 
fence, viz.  To  fhow  what  occafion  was  given  for  fuch  a 
treatife  among  us.  This  I  confefs  to  be  abfolutely  necef- 
fary,  as  it  is  plainly  applied,  in  the  title-page,  to  the 
church  of  Scotland.  It  will  be  in  vain  to  have  fhown, 
that  there  is  nothing  fmful  or  hurtful  in  attacking  the  cha- 
radlersof  clerp:ymen,  where  they  aCt  in  a  manner  un- 
worthy of  their  office,  or  that  this  may  lawfully  be  done 
even  in  the  way  of  ridicule.  The  quellion  will  ftill  be, 
Have  the  minifters  of  the  church  of  Scotland  really  de- 
ferved  it  ?  Very  great  difficulties,  however,  prefent  them- 
felves  in  this  branch  of  the  fubje6l.  There  are  many 
things  demonflrably  true,  which  it  is  dangerous  to  affirm, 
at  leaft  in  fome  places.    Upon  the  fuppofition,  that  the 


Ectlesimticai  Characteristics,  i89 

|>re\?ailing  party  in  this  church  is  of  the  fpirit  and  difpofi- 
tion  painted  in  the  Charatleriftics,  one  would  think,  a 
man  who  iliould  upbraid  them  with  their  faults  in  a  di- 
:re6t  manner,  would  be  in  a  forry  fituation  if  ever  they 
fliould  be  his  judges.  The  *' Veritas  convitii"  would  do 
him  very  little  fervice,  or  rather  would  only  fervc  to  en- 
venom their  refentment.  Have  they  been  already  fo  en- 
raged againil  me  for  a  little  pleafant  raillery  ?  and  am  I 
fo  mad  as  to  hope  to  defend  myfelf,  by  bringing  againil 
the  fame  perfons  a  ferious  and  deliberate  accufatiori  ? 
However  formidable  this  difficulty  may  appear,  I  am  not 
without  hopes,  that  fuch  of  them  as  have  any  meafure  of 
impartiality  and  candor,  after  weighing  what  is  now  to 
be  offered,  may  be  more  inclined  to  forgive  the  attack  al- 
ready made ;  and,  by  breaking  their  attachment  to  the 
molt  corrupt  members,  recover  the  merit  and  dignity  of 
the  general  body. 

With  this  view  let  me  make  a  preliminary  remark* — 
Many  from  the  beginning  either  really  did,,  or  at  l^aft 
affected  to  fuppofe,  that  all  who  joined  in  the  meafures 
carried  on  by  the  marjority  in  our  general  affemblies, 
were  reprefented  in  the  Chara6lcriftics,  as  infected  with 
every  bad  principle  or  pra(5lice  fatirized  through  the  whole. 
Nothing  was  farther  from  the  writer's  mind.  An  anfwer 
to  that  objedlion,  fuch  as  the  nature  of  the  performance 
would  admit,  was  inferted  in  the  preface  to  the  fecond 
edition  of  the  book  itfelf;  and  1  fliall  now  deliver  my 
judgment  upon  the  point,  without  the  leaft  ambiguity. 
The  political  meafures  which  have  been  carrying  on  for 
thefe  thirty  years  paft  in  the  church  of  Scotland,  appear 
tome  to  be  ruinous  to  the  interells  of  religion.  At  the 
fame  time  I  am  fenfible,  that  there  are  many  worthy  and 
good  men  who  join  in  mofl  of  thofe  meafures  ;  and  one 
great  end  of  the  Charatteriftics  was, .  to  open  the  eyes  of 
fuch  perfons,  both  on  their  employment  and  company. 

A  train  of  circumftances,  not  always  in  our  own  pow- 
er, fometimes  leads  good  men  themfelves  to  fupport  the 
moft  corrupt  part  of  a  church  in  their  public  meafures. 
The,  boundaries  of  prudence  and  zeal  are  not  eafdy  Jixed. 
tj;Umoaofvopinion'in> politics,  often  eftahliflies  a  connec- 


1 90  ^  Serious  Apology  for  the 

tionbet\reen  men  of  very  oppofite  principles  in  religioti 
•and  morals :  and  there  are  few  greater  inllances  of  the 
weaknefs  of  human  nature,  than  the  readinefs  of  men  to 
give  protedlion  and  countenance  to  thofe  who  are  worfe 
than  themfelves,  becaufe  they  are  ftaunch  friends  to  their 
party  views.  Such  complacency  do  fome  take  in  this,  as 
an  exertion  ofChriftian  charity  and  tendernefs,  that  it  is 
v/onderfiil  to  think  what  they  will  do,  and  much  mora 
wonderful  that  they  are  not  afliamed  of  it,  but  openly, 
and  to  all  appearance  honeftly,  defend  it. 

Whatever  unites  them  with  one  party,  alienates  their 
afFed^ion  from,  and  interrupts  their  correfpondence  with 
the  oppofite  :  hence  extremes  are  produced  on  both  hands. 
Perfons  of  fierce  and  violent  tempers,  in  their  zeal,  throw 
out  indifcriminate  reflections  ;  and  thofe  engaged  in  ano- 
ther intereft,  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  every  accufation,  as  the 
mere  effedl  of  party-malice  and  refentment.  Nay,  it  has 
been  obferved,  that  it  is  fome  what  natural  for  clergymen, 
to  be  more  eafily  irritable  at  fuch  of  their  brethren  as  rife 
above  them  in  apparent  concern  for  religion,  and  zeal  for 
promoting  it,  than  at  thofe  who  fail  below  them.  The 
firll  are  a  reproach  to  their  own  condu6l  and  character, 
the  other  are  a  foil  to  it.  So  that  every  one  who  efpoufes 
any  bold  or  vigorous  meafure,  may  lay  his  account  with 
a  fenfible  coldnefs,  even  from  fuch  of  his  brethren  as  are 
in  the  next  immediate  degree  below  him. 
^  Another  very  confiderable  difficulty  lies  in  my  way. 
The  more  the  complaint  of  degeneracy  in  the  church  of 
Scotland  is  juft,  the  more  difficult,  in  one  refpedl,  it  will 
be  to  carry  a  convi6lionof  it  to  the  minds,  either  of  thofe 
who  are  guilty  of  it,  or  thofe  who  obferve  it.  The  cor- 
ruption of  a  church  always  implies,  a  light  fenfe  of  the  evil 
of  fin  ;  and  therefore,  however  plainly  I  may  make  it  ap- 
pear, that  fuch  and  fuch  fads  are  done,  it  will  be  hard  to 
convince  many  that  they  are  wrong,  at  leaft  in  any  great 
degree.  Many  a  clergyman  will  not  yield  the  one  half 
of  thofe  things  to  be  fms  that  were  admitted  to  be  fo  a  cen- 
tury ago ;  nor  do  they  fee  the  one  half  of  the  evil  of  fm, 
cither  in  clergy  or  laity,  that  was  once  taken  for  granted* 
Thofe  who  have  not  the  fame  ideas  of  m.orality,  c^  never 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics*  191; 

be  fuppofed  to  have  an  equal  impreffion  of  the  infuiKci- 
^ncy  of  the  fame  degree  of  it.  Thofe  who  look  upon 
family  vvorfhip,  for  inflance,  as  an  unneceflary  piece  of 
devotion,  will  never  be  brought  to  imagine,  that  an  af- 
fembly  is  one  whit  worfe  for  confiding  of  fo  many  mem- 
bers who  habitually  negle6l  that  duty,  if  I  may  be  per- 
mitted to  ufe  fo  old-fafhioned  a  phrafe.  On  the  other 
hand,  though  I  fhould  produce  the  names  and  firnames  of 
thofe  clergy  who,  mounted  upon  their  courfers  at  the 
public  races,  join  the  gentlemen  of  the  turf,  and  are 
well  flcilled  in  all  the  terms  of  that  honorable  art ;  though 
I  fliould  name  thofe  who  are  to  be  found  at  routs  and 
drums,  and  other  polite  aifemblies  of  the  fame  nature, 
and  can  defcant  with  greater  clearnefs  on  the  laws  of  the. 
gaiming-table  than  the  Bible,  inftead  of  being  command- 
ed to  produce  a  proof  of  the  fa^ls,  I  fhould  expedt  to  find 
many  who  denied  the  relevancy  of  the  crimes. 

For  this  reafon,  before  we  go  farther,  perhaps  it  will  not 
be  improper  to  introduce  a  general  obfervation.  If  we 
confiderthe  circumftances  of  the  church  of  Scotland,  we 
may,  from  a  knowledge  of  human  nature,  and  the  ex- 
perience of  pad  ages,  fafely  affirm,  flie  is  in  a  lax  and 
degenerate  ilate.  If  it  were  not  fo,  it  would  be  a  mi- 
racle. Nay,  I  will  venture  to  go  further,  and  to  fay, 
it  would  be  fuch  a  miracle  as  never  happened  before. 
We  in  this  church  have  enjoyed  uninterrupted  outward 
profperity  for  more  than  feventy  years ;  and  during  all 
that  time,  have  not  only  been  free  from  perfecution,  but 
have  enjoyed  the  favor  and  protection  of  the  civil  powxr. 
If  this  long  courfe  of  temporal  profperity  has  had  no 
cfFeQ;  in  bringing  on  a  depravation  of  our  manners,  it 
muft  needs  be  a  miracle  ;  becaufe  it  is  contrary  to  the 
natural  courfe  of  things  ;  and  he  that  will  pretend  to  find 
a  period,  when  any  fuch  thing  happened  before,  will,  I 
am  confident,  be  unfuccefsful.  The  primitive  church 
was  never  long  without  perfecution  during  the  three  firfl 
centuries  ;  yet  they  had  a  trial  how  they  could  bear  prof- 
perity, in  the  interval  between  the  ninth  and  tenth  perfe- 
pution,  immediately  before  that  dreadful  one  which  they 
fofcred  under  the  tlie  Emperor  Dioclefian.     And  hifl 


I'92*  A  Serious  Apology  for  the 

tory  informs  us,  that  though  they  had  not  then  any  civil 
eftablifliment,  yet  the  eafe  and  profperity  which  they 
enjoyed  had  a  moft  fatal  influence  upon  their  manners. 

So  long  as  a  minifler  is  only  in  the  poll:  of  greateft  dan- 
ger, there  will  be  lefs  hazard  of  worldly  men  endeavoring 
to  pufh  themfelves  into  that  fituation  :  but  as  foon  as  that 
office  begins  to  be  confidered  as  a  quiet  and  fafe  fettlement 
for  this  life,  how  can  it  be  but  many,  from  no  higher  end 
than  worldly  intereft,  will  get  and  keep  pofleffion  of  it  ? 
Therefore,  though  I  were  living  in  Japan,  and  knew  no.^ 
thing  elfe  of  the  church  of  Scotland,  but  that  fhe  had  en- 
joyed fuch  a  courfe  of  outward  profperity,  I  would  as 
certainly  conclude,  that  a  corruption  of  manners  was  af- 
fefting  even  the  clergy,  as  I  would  that  iron  which  had 
been  long  out  of  the  furnace,  and  had  not  been  rubbed  or 
fcoured,  would  be  growing  rufty. 

After  all,  it  is  fomewhat  flrange,  that  this  performance 
ihould  Hand  in  need  of  an  apology,  or  that  the  accufation 
againli:  it  fhould  be  fo  often  repeated,  That  the  author 
muft  be  a  bad  man ;  and  that  it  is  hurtful  to  the  intereft 
of  religion.  This  is  certainly  the  clamor  of  the  guilty, 
and  not  the  judgment  of  the  candid.  There  is  no  fuch 
apprehenfion  of  the  thing  being  criminal  among  thofe 
tvho  arc  the  moft  unprejudiced  and  impartial  judges  ;  I 
mean  the  laity.  It  is  well  known,  with  how  much  ap- 
probation it  was  read  by  them,  when  firft  publilhed  ;  and 
notwithftanding  the  love  of  defamation,  which  is  natural 
to  mankind,  I  am  perfuaded  its  admirers  would  have  been 
of  quite  a  different  clafs  than  they  generally  were,  if  it 
had  been  againft  the  intereft  of  religion  ;  and  that  it  would 
have  had  no  admirers  at  all,  if  it  had  been  a  fatire  with- 
out an  objecl. 

Let  us  fuppofe  any  perfon  had  taken  into  his  head  to 
write  a  fatire  againft  the  minifters  of  the  church  of  Scot- 
land, and  had  thought  proper  to  reprefent  them  in  an 
oppofite  light ;  fuppofe  he  had  reprefented  them  as  having 
arrived  to  fuch  a  degree  of  bigotry,  as  to  believe,  that 
no  jierfon  could  be  faved  who  had  the  Icaft  doubt  of  any 
thing  contained  in  the  large  fyftems  of  Pi61:et  and  Tur- 
r€tine  ;  as  fo  fevere  difciplinarians,  that  they  were  contb- 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics.  193 

nually  harrafling  gentlemen  and  noblemen,  andfummon- 
ing  them  beiore  their  feilions,  for  but  walking  cut  in  their 
gardens  a  little  after  feimon  on  the  Lord's  da}^  or  fitting 
half  an  hour  too  long  at  their  bottle  after  dinner  on  other 
days ;  as  fo  rigid  and  mortified  in  their  own  lives,  that 
they  were  in  danger  of  bringing  back  the  monkifh  aufle- 
rity  of  the  church  of  Rome.  Whether  would  the  author 
of  fuch  a  pamphlet  have  been  reckoned  found  in  his 
judgment  ?  Would  any  body  have  been  fo  idle  as  to 
read  it  ?  or,  if  they  did,  would  they  not  have  underftood 
it  backwards  ?  Whereas,  in  the  prefent  cafe,  there  was  a 
teilimony  given  to  the  truth  and  juftice  of  the  characters 
drawn,  by  the  affent  and  approbation  of  almoU  every 
reader. 

-  The  laity  were  not  the  only  witneiFes  of  its  propriety : 
many  of  the  moft  eminent  and  refpeclable  of  the  clery  of 
our  neighbor-country,  gave  evidence  in  favor  of  the  Cha- 
racleriftics.     I  have  been  well  informed,  that  the  Bifhop 

of  L n,  in  converfation  with  a  nobleman  of  our  own 

country,  gave  it  a  high  commendation  ;  and  added  withal : 
*'  It  fcems  only  directed  againfl  a  certain  party  of  the 
"  church  of  Scotland  ;  but  we  have  many  in  England  to 
"  whom  the  characters  are  very  applicable."  It  is  alfo 
faid   by  thofe  who  deferve   credit,   that   the   Bifhop  of 

O d  fpoke  much  in  the  fame  way;   and  faid,  He 

vv'iflied  their  own  clergy  Vv^ould  read  it  for  their  inflruc- 
tion  and  correction.     And  feveral  have  feen  a  letter  from 

tlie  prefent  Bifhop  of  G r,  then  Dr.  V/ n,  one 

of  the  mofl  eminent  authors  of  this  age,  to  a  minifter  in 
Scotland ;  in  which  he  commends  the  performance,  and, 
particularly  ufes  thefe  words  :  "  A  fine  piece  of  raillery 
*'  againft  a  party  to  which  we  are  no  flrangers  here." 

Is  it  to  be  fuppofed,  that  fuch  perfons,  eminent  for 
worth  and  penetration,  would  have  approved  a  thing  fo 
evidently  criminal  as  fome  are  pleafed  to  think  this  traCl  ? 
"Or  are  there  indeed  perfons  of  the  characters  there  repre- 
fented  in  the  church  of  England,  and  none  in  the  church 
of  Scotland  ?  Shall  the  perfons  above-named  openly 
affirm,  there  are  many  fuch  in  England ;  and  mull  the 
liaan  be  condemned,  without  hearing,  and  without  mercy, 

Vol.  III.  B  b 


194  -^  Serious  Apology  for  the  ' 

who  is  fufpedted  of  hinting  there  are  fome  fuch  in  her 
fifter-church  ?  I  have  often  indeed  refle(5\ed,  with  fome 
furprife,  on  the  different  fituation  of  affairs  in  Scotland 
and  in  England.  I  have  feen  many  books  printed  in 
England,  with  the  names  of  the  authors,  which  plainly 
and  without  ambiguity  affirm,  that  there  are  fome  of  the 
dergy  proud,  ambitious,  time-fervers,  and  tools  of  thofe 
in  power ;  fome  of  them  lazy  and  flothful,  lovers  of  eafe 
and  pleafure  ;  fome  of  them  fcandalous  and  diffolute  in 
their  manners  ;  fome  of  them  wholly  ignorant  and  infuffi- 
cient ;  and  that  all  are  tolerated  by  thofe  who  prefide. 
Thefe  things  they  affirm,  without  the  lead  danger,  or 
apprehenfion  of  it.  But  were  any  man  to  publifh  a  book 
that  had  the  tenth  part  of  fuch  feverity  in  it,  in  Scotland, 
he  ought,  at  the  fame  time,  to  have  a  fhip  hired  to  fly  to  j 
another  country. 

But  the  ilrongefl  of  all  general  proofs  of  the  juflice  of 
the  fatire  in  the  Charadleriftics,  is  the  behavior  of  thofe 
who  are  fuppofcd  to  be  aimed  at.  The  lamentable  out- 
cry they  made  at  firft,  the  malice  and  refentment  they 
have  ever  fmce  difcovered  againft  the  author,  prove  to  a 
demonflration,  that  his  reproofs  are  well  founded.  We 
fhall  reduce  the  argument  to  this  Ihort  form  :  Either^ 
there  was  ground  for  this  fatire,  or  there  was  none.  H 
there  was  none,  nither  furely  could  there  be  for  one  hali 
of  the  complaints  that  have  been  made  againfl  it,  for  it 
would  have  been  perfectly  harmlefs.  Many,  even  of  th< 
prefent  clergy  of  the  church  of  Scotland,  do  not  fim 
themfelves  touched  by  it  in  the  leaft  degree.  If  the  cha- 
ra6lers  of  the  refl  lay  no  more  open  to  the  flrokes  oi 
raillery,  why  fhouldthey  have  been  fo  much  difconcerted 
by  it  ?  If  they  were  not  hit,  it  is  impoffible  they  could 
be  hurt. 

Thefe  general  arguments,  of  themfelves,  m.ight  fatisfy 
any  impartial  perfon  ;  but  let  us  now  go  a  little  further, 
and  confider  particularly  the  prelent  flate  of  the  church  of 
Scotland,  and  how  far  it  might  give  occaiion  to  the  fatire. 
It  would  be  tedious  to  mention  every  fingle  flroke  of 
raillery  contained  in  that  performance ;  but  fo  far  as  it 
carries  a  cenfure  of  principles  or  characters   generally 


,■  _  »•  k' » (^  0 


lastical  Characteristics. 


prevailing,  they  may  be  reduced  to  the  three  followinjr 
claOes,  DofV.rine,  Difcipline,  and  Government.  We  fhall 
examine  each  of  thefe  diftin6tly  and  feparately. 

I.  Let  us  confider  our  prefent  flate  in  point  of  Doc- 
trine.    It  is  certainly  hinted,  that  there  are  many  v/ho 
have  departed  from  the  old  proteftant  principles  contain- 
ed in  our  Confeflion  of  Faith  and  Catechifms.     And  is  it 
pofiible  to  deny  this  fa(^  ?  Is  it  not  the  general  complaint 
of  the  people  through  the  whole  kingdom,  that  from  many 
pulpits  there  is  little  to  be  heard  of  the  peculiar  do6lrines 
of  the  gofpel  ?  or,  if  they  be  mentioned  at  all,  it  is  no  more 
than  an  aukward  and  cold  compliment  to  fave  appear- 
ances,  while   fomething  very  different  is  chiefly  infilled 
on.     If  I  am  not  miftaken,  the  leading  dotSlrines,  both  in 
the  holy  Scriptures,  and  in  the  confeffions  of  all  the  pro- 
teilant  churches,  are,  "  The  lofi:  and  fallen  ftate  of  man 
''  by  nature  ; — The  abfolute  neceffity  offalvation  through 
*'  Jefus  Chrift  ; — The  pardon  of  fm  by  the  riches  of  di- 
"  vine  grace,   through  the  imputed  righteoufnefs  of  the 
"  Saviour; — San6lificacion    and   comfort    by  the    Holy 
"  Ghofl."     Thefd  do6lrines  are  of  fo  great  moment,  and 
have  fo  extenfive  an  influence  on  the  whole  of  practical 
religion,  that  where  they  are  firmly  believed,  they  will 
not  only  be  often  brought  dire6lly  in  view,  but  the  man- 
ner of  fpeaking  upon  every  other  fubjedl  will  be  fuch,  as 
to  leave  no  jealoufy  of  an  intended  omlffion  ;  yet  certain 
it  is,  that  many  are  the  complaints  upon  this  fubje^t  from 
every  quarter ;  and  therefore  I  am  warranted  to  infer, 
either  that  the  do6lrine  is  corrupted,  and  fomething  elfe 
intentionally  taught,  or  that  the  perfons  complained  of  are 
utterly  incapable  ofexprefling  themfelve?  in  fuch  a  man- 
ner as  to  be  underftood. 

I  iliall  now  put  the  argument  in  another  form.  There 
is  unqueflionably  a  great  difference  in  point  of  doftrine 
between  fome  minifters  and  others.  If  the  one  fort  there- 
fore preach  the  dodrine  contained  in  the  Confeffion  of 
Faith,  undoubtedly  the  others  either  contradidl  or  omit  it* 
I  am  perfuaded  there  are  fome  who  would  be  alliamed  to 
have  it  thought,  that  they  preached  this  dodlrine ;  and 
nothing  is  more  plain,  than  that  thofe  who  are  knovvn  tQ 


igO  A  Serious  Apology  for  the 

do  To,  in  the  moft  clear  and  expUcit  manner,  are  ufnally 
the  objed^s  of  their  jealoufy  or  hatred.  It  is  probable  I 
lliall  be  told  here,  Why  do  you  make  thefe  general  com- 
plaints ?  name  the  particular  perfons,  produce  your  evi- 
dence and  prove  the  charge  :  they  will,  in  that  cafe,  be 
immediately  laid  afide.  To  this  I  anfwer,  that  it  is  a 
very  eafy  thing  for  a  man  to  preach  erroneous  do6lrinc 
in  fuch  a  manner,  that  it  fliall  be  impoflible  to  convi£l 
him  by  a  legal  profecutlon  in  a  free  country.  Every  day 
Ihpws,  that  men  may  print  fedition,  treafon,  and  even 
blafphcmy,  in  fuch  a  way,  that  no  human  law  can  take 
hold  of  it.  What  then  ihould  hinder  men  to  preach  he- 
refy  under  the  fame  prudent  difguifes  ?  Befides,  what 
would  a  profecution  fignify,  if  it  muil  come  before  a  court, 
of  which,  between  clergy  and  laity,  perhaps  a  plurality 
of  members  diiFer  a  little  in  opinion  from  the  panneL 

My  fubjedl  does  not  oblige  me  to  fay  any  thing  upon 
the  excellence  and  importance  of  the  neglefted  truths, 
yet  I  will  take  this  opportunity  of  delivering  my  opinion 
in  a  few  words.  Thefe  doctrines  I  am  perfuaded  are  not 
only  true  in  themfelves,  but  the  great  foundation  of  all 
pra6lical  religion.  Wherever  they  are  maintained  and 
inculcated,  fcri61:nefs  and  purity  of  life  and  manners  will 
be  their  natural  efFe6l.  On  the  contrary,  where  they  are 
neglected,  and  a  pretended  theory  of  moral  virtue  fubRi- 
tuted  in  their  room,  it  will  immediately  and  certainly  in- 
troduce a  deluge  of  profanity  and  immorality  in  practice. 
Of  this  the  prefent  ftate  of  our  own  church  and  nation, 
compared  with  that  of  former  periods,  is  a  llrong  and  me- 
lancholy proof. 

But  there  is  no  occafion  for  entering  further  into  this 
fubjecl ;  the  ridicule  in  the  Characleriftics  turns  not  fo 
much  on  the  truth  or  importance  of  thefe  do6lrines,  as  the 
grofs  abfurdity  of  men's  fubfcribing  what  they  do  not  be- 
lieve. However  firni  a  perfuafion  I  may  have  of  any 
fyflem  of  opinions,  the  right  of  private  judgment  and  free- 
dom of  inquiry,  I  would  wifh  to  remain  facred  and  invi- 
olcible.  Thofc  who  ufe  this  liberty  with  courage,  and 
with  candor,  ought  to  be  held  in  the  higheft  efteem  by 
every  one  who  differs  from  them.     But  for  men,  at  their 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics.  197 

entrance  on  the  facred  office,  folemnly  to  fubfcribe  to  the 
truth  of  what  all  their  lives  after  they  endeavor  to  under- 
mine and  dellroy,  is  at  once  fo  criminal  and  fo  abfurd,  that 
no  reproof  given  to  it  can  poffibly  exceed  in  point  of  feve- 
rity.  I  take  the  liberty  here  of  tranfcribing  a  paflage  from 
a  printed  fermon,  preached  at  the  opening  of  a  fynod  in 
Scotland  :  where,  fpeaking  of  thefe  fubfcriptions,  the  au- 
thor  fays,  "  This  is  fo  dire6l  a  violation  of  fmcerity,  that 
"  it  is  aflonifhing  to  think  how  men  can  fet  their  minds 
"  at  eafe  in  the  profpe6l,  or  keep  them  in  peace  after  the 
*'  deliberate  commiiTion  of  it.  The  very  excufes  and 
*'  evahons  that  are  offered  in  defence  of  it,  are  a  difgrace 
"  to  reafon,  as  well  as  a  fcandal  to  religion.  What  fuc- 
*'  cefs  can  be  expedled  from  that  man's  miniftry,  who  be- 
"  gins  it  with  an  acl  of  fo  complicated  guilt  ?  How  can 
'*  he  take  upon  him  to  reprove  others  for  fin,  or  to  train 
■''  them  up  in  virtue  and  true  goodnefs,  while  himfelf  is 
"  chargeable  with  dlredl,  premeditated,  and  perpetual  per- 
'^  jury  ?  I  knov/  nothing  fo  nearly  refembling  it,  as  thofe 
"  cafes  in  trade,  in  which  men  make  falfe  entries,  and  at 
"  once  fcreen  and  aggravate  their  fraud,  by  fvvearing,  or 
^'  caufing  odiers  to  fvvear,  contrary  to  truth.  This  is 
''  jultly  reputed  fcandalous,  even  in  the  world  ;  and  yet 
>'  i  know  no  circumftance  in  which  they  differ,  that 
'*  does  not  tend  to  Ihow  it  to  be  lefs  criminal  than  the 
"  other.''* 

There  may  be  fome  of  the  laity  who  have  themfelves  an 
inward  averfon  to  the  fyllem  of  do6trine  contained  in 
our  Confeflion  and  Catechifms,  and  who,  for  that  reafon 
are  pleafed  with  fuch  of  the  clergy  as  preach  in  a  different 
ftr.iin  :  but  fure  I  am,  whoever  will  refle6l  upon  the  cir- 
cumtlance  of  their  having  all  fubfcribed  to  it,  can  never 
have  a  high  opinion  of  their  conduct  upon  the  whole,  but 
muH:  condemn  tlie  infmcerity,  let  the  propofitions  fubfcri- 
bed, be  in  themfelves  eidier  true  or  falfe. 

AV  hat  is  above,  may  fuffice  as  to  doctrine  in  general. 
The  particular  flriclures  in  the  Charaderiilics  againft  a 
falfe  tafte  in  compofition,   may  well  enough   anfwer  for 

*  Mr.  Wiihcifpoon's  Sviiod-firinon. 


19^  A  Serious  Apology  for  the 

themfelves  without  any  defence.  That  there  have  been 
many  inflances  of  llrange  incongruity  in  this  particular, 
is  beyond  all  queftion.  A  cold,  heartlefs,  indifferent 
manner  of  fpeaking  on  thofe  fubjeds,  in  which  both 
fpeaker  and  hearer  have  fo  great,  nay  no  lefs  than  an  infi- 
nite concern  ;  an  oRentatious  fwell  of  words,  or  a  pointed 
ornamented  foppery  of  llyle,  fo  ill  fuited  to  the  gravity  of 
the  pulpit ;  an  abflracled,  refined,  or  philofophical  dif* 
quifition,  which,  if  it  has  any  meaning  at  all,  perhaps  not 
three  in  the  auchence  can  ]>olnbly  underfi:and  ;  are  thefe 
imaginary,  or  are  they  real  chara<5lers  ?  If  they  are  cha- 
radlers  drawn  from  real  life,  v/here  is  the  fin  or  danger  of 
expofing  them  ?  For  my  own  part,  I  am  grieved  to  fee  fo 
little  learning  among  the  generality  of  the  minifiers  of 
this  church,  which  is  probably  owing  to  their  poverty. 
But  I  am  in  a  good  meafure  comforted  with  this  reflec- 
tion, that  the  weakeft  commonly  do  as  much  fervice  as 
the  wifeil ;  becaufe,  though  they  were  ever  fo  willing, 
they  are  not  able  to  fill  the  audience  with  any  admiration 
of  themfelves,  and  therefore  their  attention  mufl:  be  fixed 
upon  the  truths  delivered,  and  not  the  parts  and  manner 
of  the  fpeaker. 

2.  Let  us  confider  a  little  the  ftate  of  the  church  of 
Scotland  with  refpedl  to  Difcipline  ;  that  is  to  fay,  the 
infpeClion  of  the  morals  of  minifiers  and  people.  Upon 
the  mofl  deliberate  review,  all  1  can  find  intimated  in 
the  charaderiftics  upon  this  fubjefl,  is,  that  there  is  far 
lefs  itridlnefs  and  tendernefs  of  converfation,  lefs  of  the 
appearance  of  piety  and  devotion,  in  perfons  of  the  fpi- 
ritual  function,  than  formerly  ;  and  lefs  feverity,  in  the 
exercife  of  difcipline,  upon  ihofe  who  offend. 

What  fh all  I  fay  in  defence  of  this,  but  that  the  thing 
appears  to  me  to  be  manifeftly  true  ?  There  are  no  parti- 
cular crimes  charged,  but  in  general,  levity  and  worldly 
converfation,  with  a  negleft  of  the  duties  of  the  facred  office. 
And  would  to  God  there  were  not  the  greatcfi  caufe  of 
charging,  not  merely  fome  fev/  diforderly  peribns,  not 
merely  the  younger  fort  in  general,  but  all  without  excep- 
tion, as  in  fome  meafure  guilty.  If  there  is  a  remarkable 
inc:eafe  of  corruption  among  the  worfi,  there  will  alfo  be 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics,  199 

a  vifible  declenfion  in  zeal  and  piety  among  the  beil. 
This  is  what  the  natural  courfe  of  things  teaches  us  to 
expert.  It  is  alio  what  our  Saviour  himfelf  hath  fore- 
warned us  of  ;  ''  Becaufe  iniquity  fliall  abound,  the  love 
''  of  many  fhall  wax  could,"  Matt.  xxiv.  12.  Thepre- 
fent  age  is  a  moving  example  of  this,  both  with  refpe(5t 
to  the  clergy  and  laity.  As  there  is  an  alarming  degree 
of  infidelity  and  impiety  among  many  of  every  rank, 
fo  even  thofe  who  preferve  fome  regard  for  religion,  fall 
very  far  Ihort  of  that  eminent  and  exemplary  piety 
which  fome  alive  have  feen  in  Chrillians  of  the  laft  age, 
and  of  which  our  fathers  have  told  us. 

I  am  very  fenfible,  that  the  degeneracy  of  their  own 
times  has  been  the  conflant  and  uniform  complaint  of 
religious  and  moral  writers  in  every  age,  and  that  they 
may  be  liable  to  fome  deception  in  this  particular  :  but 
at  the  fame  time,  the  records  of  hiflory  put  it  beyond  all 
queilion,  that  there  have  been  many  indances,  among 
all  nations,  of  local  and  temporary  reformation,  of  local 
and  occafional  depravation.  Perhaps  (though  I  fee  no 
reafon  for  affirming  it)  the  quantity  of  human  virtue, 
through  the  whole  earth,  may  be  nearly  the  fame  in  every 
age  ;  yet  certainly  it  often  changes  its  refidence,  and 
leaves  one  nation,  to  fettle  in  another.  Nay,  it  feems 
very  reafonable  to  believe,  that  as  human  things  are  ne- 
ver at  a  ftand,  a  church  and  nation,  in  a  quiet  and  peace- 
able flate,  is  always  growing  infenfibly  worfe,  till  it  be 
either  fo  corrupt  as  to  deferve  and  procure  exterminating 
judgments,  or  in  the  infinite  mercy  of  God,  by  fome  great 
lliock  or  revolution,  is  brought  back  to  fimplicity  and 
purity,  and  reduced,  as  it  were,  to  its  firil  principles. 

They  are  much  to  be  blamed  therefore,  who,  becaufe 
the  complaints  of  fome  moral  writers  are  exaggerated, 
and  their  comparifons  not  always  well  founded,  treat 
every  thing  of  this  nature  as  foolifh  and  vifionary,  re- 
fufing  fo  much  as  to  examine  whether  the  charge  brought, 
againfi:  themfelves  is  jufi:  or  groundlefs.  On  the  contrary, 
I  cannot  help  being  of  opinion,  that  it  is  every  man's 
duty  to  do  all  in  his  power  to  retard  the  progrefs  of  cor- 
ruption, by  ftridnefs  and  tendernefs  in  his  own  perfonal 


200  A  Serious  Apology  for  ■  the 

walk,  fidelity  and  vigilance  in  the  duties  of  a  public  Ha- 
tion,  and  a  bold  and  open  teilimony  againft  every  thing 
contrary  to  the  intereft  of  true  and  undefiled  religion. 

But  becaufe  we  have  now  chiefly  to  do  with  the  clergy, 
let  us  return  to  them.  If  it  were  proper,  I  could  eafily 
produce  examples  of  indecency  and  impiety  in  clergy- 
men, fufficient  to  fill  every  ferious  perfon  with  the  deepefl 
concern  ;  and  which  the  moil  relaxed  moralift  would  ngt 
be  able  to  defend ;  but  as  1  would  fain  believe,  that  things 
very  grofs  are  yet  but  feldom  committed  cimong  us,  and 
are  not  commonly  known,  I  fhall  confine  myfelf  only  to 
things  more  openly  pra6\ifed  by  many,  and  too  eafily  to- 
lerated by  all.  This  is  the  more  proper,  that  the  book  I 
am  defending  can  fcarcely  be  charged  with  difclofing 
hidden  fcenes,  but  dwells  on  fuch  deviations  from  duty, 
as  are  epidemic  and  general,  and  rather  fmiles  at  the  ridi- 
culous, than  expofes  the  guilty  part  of  every  character. 

There  is  one  circumfi:ance  which  I  am  afraid  betrays 
many  into  a  miilake.  The  world  in  general  expefts  a 
great  "  comparative''  fan^lity  in  thofe  who  bear  the  facred 
ofiTice  ;  therefore,  when  minifters  take  a  little  liberty,  others 
think  themfelves  warranted  to  take  a  great  deal  more. 
Thefe  fentiments,  which  are  univerfal,  contribute  to 
keep  the  proportion  between  the  clergy  and  laity  always 
nearly  the  fame.  When  therefore  clergymen  fee  the 
di fiance  flill  remaining  between  them  and  others,  they 
are  ready  to  forget  how  far  they  are  both  from  the  place 
where  they  ought  to  have  been. 

Many  things  are  faults  in  a  miniiler,  which,  if  not  in- 
nocent, are  certainly  far  lefs  criminal  in  other  men. 
There  is  alfo  a  fpecies  of  faults  which  I  apprehend  do 
render  a  minipLer  jufily  contemptible,  upon  which  no 
law,  either  civil  or  ecclefiallic,  can  lay  hold  ;  and  which, 
for  thatreafon,  are  the  proper  objedls  both  of  ferious  and 
fatirical  reproof.  If  one  fet  apart  to  the  fervice  of  Ghrifl: 
in  the  gofpel,  manifeflly  fliows  his  duty  to  be  a  burden, 
and  does  no  more  work  than  is  barely  fufficient  to  fcreen 
him  irom  cenfure  ;  if  he  reckons  it  a  piece  of  improve- 
mcat,  how  feldom,  or  how  ihort,  he  can  preach  ;  and 
pxakc  his  boaft  how  many  omifiions  he  has  brought  a  pa- 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics.  201-- 

tient  and  an  injured  people  to  endure  without  complaint ; 
while  at  the  fame  time,  he  cannot  fpeak  with  temper  of 
thofe  who  are  willing  to  do  more  than  himfelf;  however 
impoflible  it  may  be  to  afcertain  his  faults  by  a  libel,  he 
juftly  merits  the  deteftation  of  every  faithful  minifler,  and 
every  real  Chriflian. 

That  fuch  is  the  cafe  with  not  a  h\v  amongfl  us,  there 
is  the  greateft  reafon  to  believe.  The  heavy  and  general 
complaints  of  the  people  from  fome  quarters,  and  their 
grofs  ignorance  in  others,  prove  it  beyond  contradiftion, 
Thoie  whofe  condu6l  is  not  liable  to  this  imputation,  will 
not  find,  that  they  have  fuffered  the  fmalleft  injury,  in 
point  of  chara6ler,  by  the  publication  of  the  Ghara6\erif- 
tics,  excepting  fuch  as  feel  the  wounds  given  to  their 
friends  as  fenfibly  as  thofe  given  to  themfelves.  In  this 
cafe,  however,  they  have  an  eafy  remedy :  Let  them 
"  have  no  fellowihip  with  the  unfruitful  works  of  darknefs, 
*'  but  rather  reprove  them." 

I  am  unwilling  to  enter  farther  into  the  characters  of 
miniilers  ;  and  therefore  fhall  only  add,  let  the  impartial 
but   confider  what   happened  a  few  years  ago,  and  then 
fay,  whether  we  are  not  greatly  relaxed  in  point  of  difci- 
pline.     Did  not  feveral  miniilers  think  themfelves  at  li- 
berty to  attend  the  entertainments  of  the  ftage  ?  ^  I  am  fen- 
fible,  many  will  inmiediately  pafs  fentence  upon  me  as  a 
perfon  of  very  narrow  principles,  for  introducing  this  as 
a  mark  of  our  depravity.     I  mull  however  i-nfift  upon  it, 
from  the  united  teftimony  of  the   befc  and  wifeft  of  the 
Heathen  writers,  the  uniform  fentiments  and  pra(^ice  of 
^he  primitive  church,  and  the  pieces  written  for  the  flags 
in  modern  times,  which   any  man  may  perufe,  that  the 
performances  of  hired  players  have  never  yet  been  con- 
•du6led  with  fo  much  decency  as  to  deferve  the   counte- 
nance and  prefence  ofaminiller  of  Chrifl.     The  Gene- 
ral Aflembly  did  indeed  judicially  difapprove  of  that  liber- 
'ty  taken  by  miniilers;  but  the  eenlure  ini^i61ed  on  the 
oifenders  is  fo  gentle,  that  it  was  then  the  opinion  of  ma- 
ny, it  would  have  a  greater  tendency  to  encourage,  than 
•to  prevent  the  repetition  of  the  offence.     It  now  appears 
•they  judged  right ;   for,  if  I  am  not   greatly  mifini<)rniidv 

Vol.  III.  C  c         ''        ' 


202  A  Serious  Apology  for  the 

the  offence  has  been  repeated  fince  that  time  with  abfolute 
impunity. 

If  the  morals  of  the  clergy  themfelves  are  corrupted, 
there  Is  all  the  reafon  in  the  world  to  expe<!^,  that  the  reins 
of  difcipllne  will  be  flackened  as  to  the  diforders  of  others. 
This  indeed  is  fo  notorious,  that  it  would  be  idle  and  un- 
necelfary  to  attempt  a  proof  of  it;  and  therefore  I  fhall 
only  make  a  reflection  or  two  upon  the  reception  given, 
not  long  ago,  to  a  propofal  for  cenfuring  thofe  writers 
who  had  publifhed  and  avowed  irreligious  and  immoral 
fentiments.  It  is  well  known  v/hat  violent  oppofition  this 
propofal  met  with  ;  nor  will  it  foon  be  forgot,  what  fort  of 
reafoning  was  ufed  againfl:  it ;  and  nothing  can  fhow,  in 
a  clearer  light,  that  low  and  languid  flate  to  which  our 
difcipline  is  now  reduced.  It  was  generally  reprefented 
as  a  fpecies  of  perfecution,  and  as  flowing  from  a  perfe- 
cuting  fpirit.  Upon  this  I  fliall  lay  before  the  reader  one 
or  two  very  fhort  refle£lions. 

ift.  What  is  ecclefiaftical  cenfure  ?  Is  it  any  more  than 
a  judicial  declaration,  that  fuch  and  fuch  things  are  con- 
trary to  the  fpirit  of  the  gofpel,  and  inconfiftent  with  the 
character  of  a  Ghriftian  ?  No  civil  penalties  follow  upon 
it  among  us,  and  no  civil  penalties  ought  to  follow  upon 
it  in  any  nation.  From  this  it  is  very  plain,  that  fuch 
cenfures,  as  they  are  in  their  nature  jufl:  and  necelfary, 
fo  they  carry  the  evidence  of  their  jullice  in  themfelves.  If 
in  any  cafe  they  are  mifapplied,  and  a  perfon  is  condemn- 
ed for  what  is  laudable,  fuch  condemnation  can  reflect  no 
diflionor  but  upon  thofe  who  pronounce  it. 

2d]y,  Whether  fhould  we  be  mofl  ready  to  be  provoked 
at  the  impudence  of  profeffed  unbelievers,  defiring  to  re- 
tain the  name  of  Chriftians,  or  to  fmile  at  the  abfurdity 
of  calling  it  perfecution  to  deprive  them  of  it  ?  If  infideli- 
ty were  a  principle,  properly  fpeaking,  or  implied  a  ^yi- 
tem  of  real  and  pofitive  opinions,  all  of  that  perfuafion 
would  reckon  themfelves  bound  as  honeft  men,  to  re- 
nounce their  baptifm,  and  every  apparent  relation  to  the 
deluded  believers.  Inflead  of  defiring  admiffion  to  what 
Chrifi:ians  call  their  privileges,  they  would  confider  the 
impofition  of  fuch  things  as  a  great  hardfhip,  and  beg  that 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics^  20^ 


;> 


thev  might  have  nothing  to  do  with  them  ;  and  in  fiich 
a  cafe,  certainly  due  regard  would  be  paid  to  their  tender 
confciences.  As  to  the  charge  of  perfecution,  it  is  the 
mod  ridiculous  imaginable.  They  themfelves  are  the 
aggreflbrs ;  and  though  they  are  our  open  enemies,  think 
proper  to  be  greatly  offended,  when  we  fay,  they  are  not 
our  friends. 

3dly,  What  can  be  the  meaning  of  thofe  profeffmg 
Chriilians  who  defire  to  retain  in  their  communion  the 
enemies  of  the  gofpel  ?  Can  they,  or  will  the}'  do  us  any 
fervice  ?  Is  it  pofTible  that  they  can  bring  us  any  honor  ? 
Can  it  be  of  any  benefit  to  themfelves?  None  of  all 
thefe.  But  it  muA  vifibly  leifen  the  fandlity  of  the  Chrif- 
tian  chara6ter  in  the  apprehenfion  of  mankind  in  general, 
and  give  the  unhappy  perfons  themfelves  more  reafon 
than  any  other  circumftance  whatever,  to  fay,  the  whole 
is  nothing  at  bottom  but  deceit  and  impofition. 

3.  It  now  remains  only  to  confider  the  prefent  Hate 
of  the  church  of  Scotland  with  refpeft  to  its  government. 
This,  fo  far  as  it  is  different  from  the  former,  or  at  leafl 
fo  far  as  it  is  touched  upon  in  the  Chara6leriilics,  relates 
chiefly  to  the  admiffion  of  miniilers,  with  a  few  hints  upon 
the  qualifications  and  atteftation  of  elders  who  fit  as  mem- 
bers in  the  fupreme  court. 

The  admiffion  of  minifters  into  vacant  congregations 
is  indeed  a  matter  of  the  higheft  moment,  and  the  oppo^ 
fition  of  fentiments  among  us  upon  this  fubje^t,  probably 
lies  at  the  bottom  of  all  our  other  differences.  I  am  alfq 
of  opinion,  that  the  continuance  of  what  have  been  com- 
monly called  "  violent  fettlements,"  will  have  the  mofl 
certain  and  powerful  influence  in  banifhing  religion  an4 
decency,  and  bringing  us  into  a  fituation  of  which  I  cha- 
ritably believe  many  who  profecute  thefe  meafures  have 
not  the  leail  fufpicion.  Willingly  therefore,  were  it  in 
my  power,  would  1  contribute  to  open  the  eyes  of  fome 
of  my  brethren,  on  the  pernicious  confequences  of  their 
own  condu^l.  But  I  have  the  difcouragement  to  refle6l, 
that  the  force  of  cuftom,  and  the  power  of  prejudice,  will 
probably  fliut  their  ears  againft  anv  thing  I  have  to  offer. 


204  ASerious  Apology  for  the 

In  order,  if  poflible,  to  procure  fome  attention,  let  mc. 
intreat  the  reader  not  to  iniagine,  that  I  have  embraced, 
or  am  about  to  plead  in  favor  of  fuch  ridiculous,  and  ab- 
furd  notions,  as  through  ignorance  or  malice  are  com- 
monly imputed  to  me  and  others  of  the  fame  fentiments, 
fuch  as,  That  every  Chriftian,  as  fuch,  has  a  right  to  call 
a  miniller  upon  an  eftablifhment ;  and  that  Clirift  hath, 
purchafed  this  right  for  them  by  his  death  ;  and  therefore 
that  they  ought  to  afTert  this  right,  though  in  the  moft 
feditious  and  diforderly  m.anner.  Vv^e  know  perfectly 
v/eil,  that  it  is  a  queilion,  not  of  right,  but  of  fact,  Who 
has  a  title  to  call  a  miniiler  to  enjoy  the  public  mainte- 
nance ?  and  that  none  have  an}^  title  to  it  at  all,  excepting 
tliofe  to  v/hom  the  law  gives  it.  Neither  would  we  con- 
tend, that  every  man  ought  to  have  fuch  a  right,  though 
we  have  it  in  our  power  to  make  new  laws  upon  that 
fubjecl:.  Such  a  leeming  equality  would  be  a  real  ine-r 
quality.  The  fum  of  my  belief  in  this  matter  is  contained 
in  the  following  proportions.  Every  man  hath  a  natural 
right,  v/ell  fecured  to  him  in  this  happy  illand,  to  judgQ 
for  himfelf  in  every  thing  thai  regards  religion,  and  to 
adhere  to  any  minifter  he  pleafes,  on  the  eflablilhment, 
or  in  oppofition  to  it.  The  legal  ilipend,  levied  originally 
from  the  pubHc,  was  certainly  intended  to  provide  a  fuffi- 
cient  and  ufeful  paftor  to  the  people  within  the  bounds 
of  a  certain  parifh.  He  cannot  be  of  much  fervice  to 
tliem,  if  they  be  upon  ill  terms  with  him ;  he  can  be  of 
none  at  all,  if  they  will  not  hear  him.  No  man  ought, 
to  be  compelled,  by  eccleiiallical  or  civil  penalties,  to 
fubmit  in  fuch  a  cafe  ;  and  though  he  were,  fuch  forced 
religion  would  be  vv^orfe  than  none.  The  only  inference 
I  draw  from  thefe  principles  is,,  that  decency,  and  our 
indifpenfible  duty  as  church-courts^  requires  us  to  make 
no  fuch  fettlemcnts,  Vv'ithout  the  deepell  regret,  and  never 
v/ithout  a  real  neceility.  Perhaps  I  might  go  a  little 
farther,  and  fay,  that  nothing  can  excufe  us  from  making 
them  at  all,  v/hile  our  office  of  ordination  continues  in 
its  prefent  form. 

The  que  (lion  then  refls  precifcly  on  this  fmgle  point : 
pecs  the  law  as  it  nov/  ftands,  compel  us  to  make  all  thefe 


Ecd&siasilcal  Gharaatmsiics,  205 


fettlements  without  exception,  and  without  expoftulatioa  ? 
If  it  does,  what  is  the  benefit,  and  what  is  the  meaning  of 
the  feparate  independent  jurifdidlion  of  our  courts,  to 
whicli  the  decifion  of  fach  caufes  is.  comrairted  by  law, 
and  fecured  by  the  treaty  of  union  ?  It  is  in  vain  to.dif- 
femble  it,  we  have  brought  a  great  part  of  the  hanlfhips. 
upon  ourfblves  ;  and  thofe  who  in  their  hearts  are  averfe 
from  parochial  elections,  only  pretend  the  law  as  a  color 
for  their  conduct.  Were  fettlements  rehifed  when  high- 
ly inexpedient,  and  patrons  treated  with  decency,  we 
Ihould  have  little  trouble  from  them.  At  any  rate,  as 
the  perfons  prefented,  v/hether  probationers  or  mlniilers, 
are  entirely  in  our  pov/er,  by  authority  exerted  here, 
cvQiy  remaining  difficulty  would  be  removed. 

1  believe  this  is  the  fird  inilance  that  ever  happened, 
of  churchmen  furrendcring  the  power  and  influence  which 
the  law  gave  them,  into  other  hands,  without  refinance, 
aaid  without  complaint ;  nay,  many  of  them  zealoully 
contending  for  it,  and  eftabl  idling  it  by  their  own  repeated 
decifions.  It  would  be  no  hard  matter  to  point  out  the 
real  caufe  or  caufes  of  this  condud  ;  but  at  prefent  I  for- 
bear, and  leave  it  to  every  man  to  alTign  them  for  himfelf : 
o.nly  I  cannot  help  lamenting,  that  our  noble,  venerable, 
republican  conflitution,  feems  to  be  fo  near  its  period. 
Whether  it  is  likely  to  undergo  any  outward  change  is  of 
little  momeiit :  when  the  fyvc'il  is  gone,  the  remaining 
name  and  form  is  not  v/orth  being  contended  for. 

But  that  I  may  not  wholly  yield  to  defpondency,  fmee 
an  alteration  of  meafures  is  yet  poffible,  I  fliall  now  lay 
before  the  reader  a  few  of  the  certain  confequences  of 
our  continuing  in  the  ilime.  When  it  comes  to  be  a  fet- 
tled point,  that  a  prefentation,  alone  and  unlupported,  in- 
fallibly fecures  a  fettlement,  they  will  be  openly  and  ican- 
daloufly  bought  and  fold.  This  is  the  cafe  in  England, 
notwithllanding  the  firongell  laws  againll  fmiony,  and  a 
tremendous  oath,  which  the  incumbent  himfeif  muft  take 
before  his  induction.  And  it  will  always  be  the  cafe  in 
every  country,  in  the  prefent  Rate  of  human  nature.  Our 
own  experience  may  teach  us  this.  Within  thefe  hw 
.years,  there  have  been  feveral  complaints  of  fimony  in 


20 6  A  Serious  Apology  for  the 

this  church,  and  very  great  zeal  has  been  fhown  to  make 
laws  for  preventing  it.  That  zeal  is  highly  commenda- 
ble :  but,  alas  !  it  will  be  quite  inefFe6lual.  To  ftrcngthen 
the  power  of  prefentations,  and  yet  prevent  fimony,  is 
jufl  as  hopeful  an  attempt,  as  to  open  the  windows,  and 
keep  out  the  light.  The  art  and  invention  of  interefled 
perfons,  to  find  a  way  of  evading  laws  after  they  are  made, 
is  always  far  fuperior  to  the  forefight  of  the  wifeft  men, 
\u  providing  againfl  cafes  which  have  not  yet  happened. 

There  is  one  diftreffing  circumflance  in  this  profpeft, 
that  fimoniacal  paftions  among  us  will  be  hurtful  and  re- 
proachful in  an  uncommon  degree.  The  fettlements  in 
Scotland  are  generally  fmall ;  they  will  be  every  year  of 
ftill  lefs  value  by  the  improvements  of  the  country,  and 
increafmg  wealth  of  other  dalles  of  men.  In  what  a  beg- 
garly condition  then  will  thofe  be  who  have  been  obliged 
to  pay  dear  for  fo  fcanty  a  provifion  ?  Perhaps  the  reader 
will  fay,  Happily,  few  of  the  purchafers  have  any  money 
to  give.  I  believe  fo  :  but  this  will  not  mend  the  mat- 
ter ;  for  the  moll  mean  and  fordid,  perhaps  fcandalous, 
compliances  mull  come  in  the  place  of  money.  I  am 
alliamed  even  to  mention  fome  of  the  ways  by  which  it  is 
undoubtedly  certain  prefentations  will  be,  becaufe  they 
have  been  procured.  Can  any  minifler  think  of  this 
without  the  deepeft  concern  ? 

Such  a  miniflry  mufl  fail  into  the  loweft  and  mofl:  con- 
temptible ihite,  through  poverty  and  ignorance.  We 
differ  mjjch  from  the  church  of  England.  In  that  church, 
though  there  are  many  of  the  inferior  clergy  in  the  moft 
abjedl  condition,  there  are  alfo  many  dignified  perfons,  as 
they  are  called,  who  enjoy  ample  revenues  and  great  eafe. 
Thefe  have  noble  opportunities  for  fludy,  and  are  ena- 
bled to  diftinguifli  themfelves  by  works  of  literature.  By 
this  means  the  church  of  England  derives  a  luflre  from 
the  characters  and  writings  of  particular  members,  which 
ihe  does  not  deferve  for  the  general  frame  of  her  conftitu- 
lion.  But  what  mufl  be  the  cafe  in  Scotland  ?  Shall  we 
venture  to  look  a  little  further  into  futurity  ?  Have  our 
countrymen  fo  little  fpirit  as  to  fubmit  to  fo  much  mifery 
and  fcorn  ?  No ;  it  is  more  than  probable  fome  of  therp, 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics.  207 

at  once  ftimulated  by  ambition,  and  compelled  by  necef-. 
fity,  will  gradually  alter  the  conllitution.  They  will  in- 
troduce fmecures  and  pluralities,  that  they  themfelves 
may  live  in  fplendor  and  dignity,  while  the  remaining 
part  ihall  be  thruft  down  to  a  (late  more  defp' cable  than 
ever.  It  is  in  vain  to  think,  that  the  equality  of  votes  in 
a  General  Aflembly  will  hinder  this  :  for  as  power  follows 
property,  a  very  few  perfons  enriched  by  additional  fala- 
ries,  with  the  faithful  affiftance  of  thofe  who  are  dazzled 
with  the  fame  expedlations,  will  eafily  govern  the  reft. 
The  truth  is,  many  of  them,  defpairing  of  fuccefs,  and 
ill  able  to  bear  the  expence  of  travelling,  will  ftay  at  home, 
and  let  them  do  juft  as  they  pleafe. 

The  above  is  no  doubt  a  very  melancholy  profpe6l,  and 
will  in  time  have  a  moft  malignant  influence  upon   the 
morals  of  the  clergy.     But  the  truth  is,  the  fettlement   of 
parifhes  by   prefentations,  is  directly    and  immediately 
hurtful  to  the  chara6lers  of  thofe  who  are  training  up  for 
the  facred  office.     When  they  know  that  their  future  fet- 
tlement does  not  depend  upon  the  apoftolic  qualification, 
their  being  "  of  good  report,"  but  upon  intereft  with  the 
great,  it   muft  neceflarily   introduce,  in  many  cafes,    li- 
centious and  irregular  practices,  as  well  as  habituate  them 
to  fawning  and  fervility.     There   is  more  danger  in  this 
than  many  apprehend.     On  confulting  the  hiftory  of  the 
church,  we  Ihall  find  few  characters  more  odious  in  clergy- 
men, than  ambition,  and  open  folicitation  of  ecclefiaftical 
preferment.     I  am  ibrry  that  {o  much  way  has  been  gi- 
ven to  this  already,  without  having  been  obferved.  Small 
changes  in  forms  and  language,  do  often  introduce  great 
changes  in  manners  and  charadlers.     In  ancient  times 
men  could  hardly  be  perfuaded  to  take  on  them  the  weigh- 
ty and  important  office  of  a  biihop.     In  times  not  very 
diftant,  in  our  own  church,  the  minifrer  or  probationer 
called,  was  never  confidercd  as   a  party,  but  as  the  fub- 
je6t  concerning  which  the  procefs  was  carried  on  by  the 
callers  or  refufers.     But  they  have  been  for  fonie  time 
paft  declared   to  be   parties  :    they  begin  to  attend  the 
caufe,  to  appear  at  the  bar,  to  urge  their  claim,  to   confi- 
der  the  people  who  are  to  be  under  their  char^i^e   as  their 


2q8  a  Serivits  Apology  for  the 

adveiTiiries,  and  too  often  to  treat  them  with  contempt 
and  difdain. 

I  know  fdmetreat  with  great  neg]e(^  the  danger  of  a 
lax  and  immoral  miniftry,  from  the  prefent  mediod  of 
fettling  vacancies.  So  long  as  they  are  of  this  mind,  it 
is  no  wonder  they  continue  in  the  pra6tice  ;  for  it  can  be 
of  very  little  confequence  how  men  are  chofen,  if  they  are 
fit  for  the  office.  They  tell  us,  an  edicl  is  ferved  before 
admifiion,  where  every  man  has  accefs  to  objedl  againft 
th-e  life  or  dodrine  of  the  prefentec.  The  efle6l  of  this 
will  be  very  fmall.  Judicial  proceiTes  of  that  kind  are  al- 
ways expenfive  and  invidious,  often  difficult,  and  fome- 
times  dangerous.  How  fev/  then  will  be  fo  public  fpirited 
as  to  undertake  them  ?  The  example  of  England  may  fa- 
tisfy  us  of  this.  It  is  as  competent  to  profecute  a  man  for 
'error  or  immorality  in  England  as  in  Scotland  ;  yet  what 
perfon  or  parifii  ever  thinks  of  making  the  experiment  ? 

Others  tell  us,  *'  It  is  all  in  your  own  power  :  why  do 
''you  licenfe  improper  men?  it  is  impofiable  to  pre- 
*'  fent  any  man  who  has  not  a  regular  licence."  How 
furprifi ng  is  it,  that  perfons  of  ever  To  little  refledlion 
fliould  make  ufe  of  this  argument  ?  It  proceeds  upon  a 
fuppofition,  which  the  leaft  knowledge  of  human  nature 
niull  fhow  to  be  unreafonable,  viz.  That  every  prefbyte- 
ry,  through  the  whole  kingdom,  v/i  11  be  mialterat)ly  faith- 
ful and  vigilant.  If  there  be  but  a  corrupt  or  negligent 
majority  in  any  one  of  them,  the  licence  will  operate  over 
all.  Nay,  let  them  be  fuppofed  ever  {o  faithful,  they  may 
be  deceived  by  an  hypocrite,  or  not  able  to  find  fuch  proofs 
of  what  they  Itrongly  fufpeft,  as  to  found  and  fupport  a 
fentence  of  refufal.  The  more  we  confider  the  matter  in 
every  pollible  view,  we  ihall  find,  that  a  parochial  elec- 
tion of  miniiters  would  be  abetter  fecurity  for  regularity 
and  decency  in  the  clergy,  than  all  the  laws  that  ever 
were  framed  on  the  fubjedf.  Frequently  men  cannot, 
and  fometim.es  they  will  not,  execute  the  laws ;  but  this 
rule  would  operate  uniformly  and  powerfully,  and  would 
execute  icfelf. 

I  add  only  one  other  unhappy  confequence  of  continu- 
ing the  prefeat  method  of  fupplying  vacancies.     If  a  pre- 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics.  209 

fentation  muft  fuperfede  all  judgment  of  the  church-courts, 
as  to  the  propriety  of  an  ordination,  and  even  the  expe- 
diency of  a  tranflation,  we  may  expedl  to  lee  fome  of  the 
weakeft,  and  moft  contemptible  minifters,  fettled  in  the 
moll:  confpicuous  and  important  charges.  Perfons  of  this 
chara<5ler  are  not  always  free  from  vanity  and  ambition, 
nor  always  deftitute  of  interelt  by  male  or  female  connec- 
tions. We  have  had  fome  inftances  of  this  kind  already; 
but  much  greater  and  more  Ihameful  may  be  expected, 
fo  foon  as  prefentations  have  acquired  an  irrefiftiblc  pow- 
er. It  will  be  faid,  perhaps,  They  have  had  all  the  force 
in  law,  for  above  forty  years,  that  it  is  likely  they  ever 
will  have.  I  anfwer,  that  is  very  true  ;  but  every  one 
knows  their  very  different  effect  in  praQice  at  the  begin- 
ning and  at  the  end  of  that  period.  Patrons  continued 
long  to  pay  a  regard  to  the  opinion  of  the  heritors,  ac- 
cording to  rank  and  character  in  the  congregation  concern- 
ed. As  they  found  their  own  flrength  increafmg,  however, 
they  paid  gradually  lefs  and  lefs ;  they  now  pay  very  lit- 
tle ;  and  the  time  feems  juft  at  hand,  when  they  will  pay 
none  at  all. 

This  argument  will,  I  hope,  have  the  greater  -weight, 
that  I  have  know^n  inllances  of  different  perfons,  both  a- 
mong  the  clergy  and  the  laity,  who  had  concurred  in  fup- 
porting  prefentations  in  other  cafes,  but  who  were  both 
alarmed  and  provoked  when  they  themfelves  came  to  be 
treated  in  a  tyrannical  manner.  The  heritors  in  general 
indeed  have  been  long  made  inftrumental  in  bearing  down 
the  common  people ;  and  this  being  finifhed,  they  them- 
felves, as  is  aimofl  conftantly  the  cafe  in  political  llrug- 
gles,  muft  feel  the  weight  of  that  authority  which  they  have 
eilabliilied.  The  evil  hath  taken  fo  deep  root,  that  it  is 
fomewhat  uncertain  whether  a  remedy  be  now  poffible  ; 
nay,  it  is  llill  more  uncertain,  w^hether  any  refiftance  will 
he  ferioufly  attempted.  The  confequences  however  are 
like  to  be  fo  terrible,  that  they  may  well  juftify  complaint, 
and,  in  particular,  be  my  excufe  for  endeavoring  to  ex- 
pofe  the  conduce  of  thofe  whom  \  confidered  as  betraying 
the  liberties  of  the  public. 

Vol.  III.  D  d 


210  A  Serious  Apology  for  the 

As  to  the  cenfures  inflldled  on  minifters  who  refufed  to 
be  prefent  at  the  ordination  of  minifters  to  no  body,  I  fliall 
iay  but  little,  becaule  that  feverity  feems  to  have  ceafed. 
Several  miniflers  have  abfented  themfelves,  in  like  cafes 
fince  the  depofition  of  Mr.  GlUefpie,  and  yet  have  efcaped 
with  impunity.  The  reafon  probably  is,  the  thing  is  now 
fo  common,  that  the  odium  attending  it  is  become  incon- 
fiderable,  and  not  worth  the  pains  of  an  endeavor  to  di- 
vide it.  But  as  that  nieafure  was  once  like  to  become 
univerfal,  may  1  not  obferve,  that  it  remains  in  the  hif- 
tory  of  our  church  an  example  of  what,  alas  !  appears  but 
too  plainly  in  the  hiilory  of  every  church.  That,  in  pro- 
portion as  authority  is  relaxed  in  inforcing  the  laws  of 
God,  it  is  commonly  flretched  and  carried  to  excefs  in 
fupport  of  the  unneceflary,  doubtful,  or  pernicious  com- 
mandments of  men.  Let  any  man  produce  a  period  in 
which  there  was  lefs  rigour  in  punilhing  miniflers  for  ne- 
gle6l  of  parochial  duties,  or  irregularity  in  private  prac- 
tice, than  when  they  were  threatened  with  depofition  if 
they  refufed  to  join  in  thefe  not  very  honorable  fettlements. 
Nay,  though  we  fhould  look  upon  the  prefervation  of 
church-authority  as  a  matter  of  great  moment,  it  was  not 
obedience  to  the  Handing  laws,  on  which  the  welfare  of 
the  whole  depends,  that  was  fo  ftri^lly  required,  but 
compliance  with  or  approbation  of  the  decifions  of  the  an- 
nual  AfTemblies  in  their  judicative  capacity.  It  hath  often 
furprifed  me  to  hear  the  plea  of  confcience,  in  fuch  cafes, 
treated  as  a  mere  pretence.  What  fentiments  muft  thofe 
perfons  have,  who  look  upon  it  as  a  thing  incredible,  that 
a  man  iliould  fcruple  being  prefent  at  an  ordination  where ' 
fome  of  the  anfwers  to  the  queflions  put  to  the  candidate, 
though  joined  with  in  a  part  of  divine  worfhip,  are  either 
directly  falfe,  or  wholly  abfurd  ? 

This  part  of  the  Apology  has  been  fo  much  lengthened 
out,  that  I  wholly  omit  the  attelling  unqualified  and  ad- 
mitting unattefted  elders  into  the  church-courts.  There 
is  indeed  fo  manifell  a  breach  of  truth  in  the  one  cafe,  and 
of  law  and  order  in  the  other,  that  if  men  do  not  fee  it 
themfelves,  it  muft  be  owing  to  fuch  invincible  prejudice 
as  it  is  in  vain  to  contend  with. 


Ecclesiastical  Characteristics,  211 

■  Thus  I  have  laid  before  the  reader,  in  a  ferious  and 
candid  manner,  what  I  hope  will  appear  a  fuiTicient  apo- 
logy for  this  offenfive  performance.  Nothing  could  have 
induced  me  to  the  attempt,  but  the  unwearied  endeavors 
of  many  to  reprefent  it  as  an  evidence  of  a  bad  temper 
and  unchriftian  difpofition,  v/hich  the  particular  ftrufture 
of  the  book  made  Ibme  undifcerning  perfons  raihly  affent 
to.  I  have  not  the  fmalleil  reafon  to  repent  of  it  on  ac- 
count of  its  nature,  its  defign,  or  its  effe6"ls  upon  the  pub- 
lic. If  there  was  any  miftake,  it  was  in  point  of  pru- 
dence, which  fhould  have  direded  me  to  avoid  bringing 
fuch  a  load  of  malice  and  refentment  upon  myfelf.  This 
has  afforded  me  one  obfervation  not  very  honorable  to  hu- 
man nature,  viz.  That  the  rage  of  enemies  is  always  more 
adtive  and  more  lafting  than  the  afFedion  of  friends.  It 
often  happens,  that  fome  who  are  very  much  pieafed  to 
find  one  ftand  forth  as  a  champion  for  their  political  opi- 
nions, and  ready  to  go,  as  it  v/ere,  to  the  front  of  the 
battle  ;  when  their  enemies,  fmarting  with  the  wounds  he 
has  given  them,  traduce  and  vilify  his  charader,  thefe 
efteemed  friends  often,  in  a  great  meafure,  give  it  up, 
and  difcover  much  fatisfaQion  with  themielves,  that  they 
had  adted  in  a  wifer  and  more  cautious  manner. 

I  conclude  the  whole,  with  befeeching  all  who  are  con- 
vinced, that  the  prefent  ftate  of  the  church  of  Scotland  is 
fuch  as  I  have  reprefented,  to  exert  themfelves  with  zeal 
and  activity  for  her  prefervation  and  recovery.     There  is 
a  wonderful,  though  a  natural  union,  among  all  worldly 
men,  againft  the  fpirit  and  powxr  of  true  religion,  where- 
ver it  appears.     I   am  forry  to  add,  that  this  is  one  of 
the  inftances  in  which  the  children  of  this  world  are  wifer 
in  their  generation,  than  the  children  of  light.     There  are- 
many  whofe  condu6l  ihows  them  to  be  a6luated  by  an 
equal  mixture  of  floth  and  defpair.     They  are  unwilling 
to  a6l  with  vigor,  and  defend  themfelves,  by  alledging, 
that  nothing  ca.n  be  done  with  fuccefs.     How  much  better 
would  the  old  Roman  maxim  be,   *'  Nunquam  defperan- 
*'  dum  elt  de  republica  ?"  and  how  much   better  reafou 
have  we  to  adopt  it  ?    Nothing  is  impoflible  to  the  power 
pf  God.     I  add,  that  the  mpft  remarkable  tidies  of  tiiQ 


312  A  Serious  Apology y  ^c. 

revival  of  religion,  in  this  part  of  the  united  kingdom, 
immediately  fucceeded  times  of  the  greateft  apollacy, 
when  "  truth"  feemed  to  be  "  fallen  in  the  ftreet,  and 
"  equity  could  not  enter."  This  was  the  cafe  immedi- 
ately before  the  year  1638.  Corruption  in  do6lrine, 
loofenefs  in  practice,  and  flavifh  fubmiflion  in  politics, 
had  overfpread  the  church  of  Scotland  :  and  yet,  in  a  lit- 
tle time,  file  appeared  in  greater  purity  and  in  greater 
dignity  than  ever  llie  had  done  before,  or  perhaps  than 
ever  Ihe  hath  done  fmce  that  period.  Let  no  Chriftian, 
therefore,  give  way  to  defponding  thoughts.  We  plead 
the  caufe  that  Ihall  at  laft  prevail.  Religion  fhall  rife 
from  its  rains ;  and  its  oppreffed  ftate  at  prefent  fhould 
not  only  excite  us  to  pray,  but  encourage  us  to  hope  for 
its  fpeedy  revival. 


I 


\ 


THE 


HISTORY 

O  F     A 

CORPORATION 

OF 

SERVANTS. 

Difcovered  a  few  Years  ago  in  the  Interior  Parts  of 
SOUTH   AMERICA. 

Containing  some  very  surprising  Events    and    extraoe-!- 
DiNARY  Characters. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


THE  Reader  \mll  find  himself  obliged  to  the  Author  of 
the  following  History^  for  the  pains  he  hath  taken  to  iteru 
der  it  as  entertaining^  and  sentimental  as  possible.  With 
this  view  he  ha'h  entirely  avoided  the  use  of  foreign 
names^  often  hard  to  pronounce,  and  %vhen  pronounced 
wholly  without  meaning.  Instead  of  this,  when  he  had 
occasion  to  mention  particular  ranks  of  men,  offices,  or 
customs,  he  chose  to  express  them  by  what  did  most  ex- 
actly correspotid  with  them  in  our  own  country.  By  this 
means  the  narrative,  disencumbered  of  definitions  or  cir- 
cumlocutions^ is  rendered  quite  easy  and  intelligible. 


C  215  ] 

MO)  0009  0000  0000  COCO  0000  6000  0080  COOO  WOO  0000  0000  0000  cop  SOOl  •000  OCOO  0000  0000  eOOO  OOM  0O»O  0000  co«»  «••• 

MM  ccco  OOM  COOO  0040  0000  0000  COO*  tooo  tooo  0000  0000  oooi)  OCOO  coco  coos  0000  «ec«  0000  0000  #000  OMO  0000  oeoo  eow 

T  HE 

HISTORY 

O  F     A 

CORPORATION 

O  F 

SERVANTS. 


INTRODUCTION. 


THE  Ikill  of  an  author,  like  that  of  a  merchant,  lies 
chiefly  in  judging  with  readinefs  and  certainty, 
what  kind  of  commodities,  and  in  what  quantity,  any 
particular  age  or  place  is  able  and  willing  to  receive. 
This  I  have,  of  late,  made  very  much  my  ftudy,  with  re- 
gard to  our  own  age  and  country,  and  the  refult  of  my 
inquiry  is  as  follows.  There  are  two  forts  of  fubjeds  for 
which  there  is  a  general  demand  in  Great  Britain  at  this 
time,  viz.  (i.)  Biography,  if  any  thing  may  be  fo  called 
that  gives  an  account  of  the  lives  of  perfons  that  never 
exifted,  but  in  the  imagination  of  the  authors.  This  is 
indeed,  a  moil  fruitful  fubjeft,  and  under  the  various  titles 
of  Hiflories,  Lives,  Adventures,  Memoirs,  &:c.  teaches 
people  how  to  live  after  any  imaginable  plan.  (2.)  The 
other  is  the  formation  of  fchemes  and  projects,  to  be  car- 
ried on  by  fubfcription,  for  the  good  of  mankind,  v/hich 


2i6  Introduction, 

never  were  fo  favorably  received  as  at  prefent,  the  abor- 
tion or  rnifmanagement  of  nine  in  ten  of  them  not  having 
in  the  leaft  abated  the  ardor  of  the  public.  If  any  be  of 
opinion,  that  new  difcoveries  in  the  fcience  of  morals, 
for  the  fupport  of  infidelity,  are  as  favorably  received  as 
any  of  thefe,  fuch  muft  be  told,  that  they  are  but  fuperfi- 
cial  obfervers,  or  under  the  prejudice  of  religious  enthu- 
fiafm.  The  difcoveries  here  pointed  at,  have  been  of 
late  years  fo  various,  fo  contradictory  and  fo  fhort-lived, 
that  they  really  raife  very  little  curiofity.  As  an  inftance 
of  this,  the  reader  is  defired  to  reco]le(5l  if  he  can,  the  mofl 
extraordinary  thing  of  the  kind  that  ever  was  attempted. 
A  great  living  author,  David  Hume,  Efq.  not  long  ago, 
made  health,  cleanlinefs,  and  broad  fhoulders  capital  vir- 
tues, and  a  running  fore  an  unpardonable  crime ;  yet 
was  it  but  little  taken  notice  of  when  firft  publifhed,  and 
is  now  almoll  wholly  forgotten. 

Therefore,  an  author  is  undoubtedly  happy  who  hath 
hit  upon,  or  happens  to  be  furniflied  with  a  fubjedl  fuited 
to  the  tafte  of  the  age.  This  I  humbly  prefume  to  be  my 
own  cafe.  I  have  had  the  good  fortune,  lately,  to  obtain 
diflinCt  information  of  a  moll  extraordinary  hiftory,  which 
alfo  may  perhaps  lay  a  foundation  for  fome  new  fcheme, 
or,  at  lead,  for  mending  and  cobbling  thofe  which  are 
now  cracked  and  old.  The  only  misfortune  that  it  labors 
under  is  that  itis  true;  for  Irememberthe lofty  andfonorous 
earl  of  Shaftefbury,  whofe  memory  I  greatly  revere,  tells 
us  there  is  much  more  truth  in  fiction  than  in  fa6l.  The 
meaning  of  this  is,  that  authors  of  tafie  and  genius  like 
himfelf,  employing  their  fancy  in  delineating  feigned 
chara£lers,  give  ordinarily  a  jufter  view  of  nature  than 
tedious  relaters  of  what  really  happened. 

Tliis  lofs  however,  T  trull,  will  be  abundantly  made  up 
by  the  extraordinary  and  wonderful  nature  of  the  paflages 
1  am  to  relate,  which,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  will  have  the  ef- 
fe6lof  fiftion  in  enlivening  the  imagination  of  the  writer, 
and,  indeed,  very  pofilbly,  may  be  miftaken  for  fidlion 
by  manv  readers.  The  truth  is,  I  hope  there  is  a  fingular 
felicity  in  my  fubjeCt  in  every  ref])vjd.  If  the  excellency 
orhillory,  according  to  lord  Shaiteibury,  lies  in  its  being 


Introductwn .  217 

like  fi£lion,  and  the  excellency  of  fi6lion  in  its  being  like 
to  real  fa6ls,  according  to  all  other  men,  the  fubjed  in 
hand  nmfl  needs  excel,  as  it  partakes  of  both  thefe  cha- 
raders.  It  will  be  like  truth,  becaufe  it  is  true  ;  and  it 
■will  be  like  fidion,*  becaufe  the  fame  train  of  events,  per- 
haps, never  happened  in  any  other  place  or  nation. 

To  introduce  myfelf  to  my  fubjed,  and  inform  the 
reader  how  I  came  by  the  knowledge  of  it,  he  may  be 
plea'fed  to  recolle6t,  That  in  the  year  1741,  when  com- 
modore (afterwards  lord)  Anfon  made  a  voyage  round  the 
world,  one  of  the  (hips  of  his  fquadron,  ca,lled  the  Wager, 
was  call  away  upon  a  defert  ifland  in  the  South  Seas.  The 
grearell  part  of  the  crew  who  were  faved  lengthened  the 
long-boat,  and  made  a  long  and  dangerous  voyage  through 
the  freights  of  Magellan,  to  Brazil.  As  they  were  often 
obliged  to  fwim  afliore  for  provifions  and  water,  it  hap- 
pened that,  at  one  time,  there  were  to  the  number  of  four- 
teen of  them  afliore  upon  a  part  of  the  coall  very  far  fouth, 
near  the  mouth  of  the  ftreights.  Having  ftayed  all  night, 
unfortunately  next  morning  the  wind  blew  fo  hard  in 
Ihore,  that  only  fix  of  the  fourteen  were  able  to  get  aboard, 
^nd  the  vefTel  was  obliged  to  go  away  and  leave  the  other 
eight. 

It  is  needlefs  here  to  infifl:  upon  the  various  accidents 
they  met  with  in  this  perilous  fituation.  The  difficulty 
of  obtaining  food,  without  which  they  mud  very  foon 
have  died  :  the  mean  and  fcanty  provifion  with  which 
nature  will  be  fuftained,  when  there  is  no  more  or  better 
to  be  had  :  the  inventive  faculty  of  man  for  fupplying  his 
wants  when  reduced  to  abfolute  extremity,  and  a  hundred 
other  things  which  have  been  reprefented  in  all  poffible 
lights  by  other  writers  of  adventures.  Let  it  fuffice,  there- 
fore to  fay  that,  in  procefs  of  time,  four  of  them  were  kil- 
led by  the  inhabitants  of  the  country,  and  the  remaining 
four  taken  prifoners.  After  changing  their  mailers  feve- 
ral  times,  they  came  at  lad  into  the  hands  of  one  who  car* 
ried  them  a  great  way  off  to  the  capital  of  an  empire,  and 
the  court  ofa  powerful  prince.  There  they  lived  many 
years,  learned  the  language,  and  had  occaf.on   to  fes  the 

Vol,  III.  '  E  e 


2i8  Introduction, 

manners  of  the  country.  Two  of  them,  at  laft,  acquired 
fuch  a  degree  of  favor,  that,  in  compliance  with  their 
earneft  requeft,  they  were  fent  to  the  Portugueze  fettle- 
ments,  and  came  from  thence  to  Great  Britain. 

One  of  thefe  perfons,  who  was  a  man  of  tolerable  edu- 
cation, as  well  as  good  fenfe  and  comprehenfion,  coming 
to  live  in  my  neighborhood,  communicated  to  me  what 
follows  of  this  hiftory.  In  general  he  told  me  the  conduct: 
and  characters  of  men,  bating  fome  little  differences  of 
fafhion  and  modes  of  addrefs,  which  are  ever  changing  in 
every  country,  were  much  like  what  they  are  among  our- 
felves.  Court  favor  was  precarious  and  changeable.  In- 
tereil  and  ambition  prevailed  more  in  obtaining  places  of 
power  and  profit,  than  mode  11  and  peaceable  merit.  Cold 
and  fober  men  gathered  wealth,  and  crept  up,  by  flow 
but  fure  fteps,  to  flation  and  dignity  ;  while  the  lively 
iprightly  fellows  threw  away  all  that  they  had,  and  foon 
became  contemptible  to  others  and  ufelefs  to  themfelves. 
The  knowledge  of  the  world  was  of  very  little  benefit  ; 
for  though  every  clafs  of  men  could  clearly  difcern  the 
errors  that  adhered  to  thofe  of  a  different  rank,  they  could 
fcarcely  obferve,  and  never  would  intimate  their  com- 
mendable qualities.  For  example,  fays  he,  a  profufe, 
difeafed,  needy  Lord  would  fpeak  with  infinite  contempt 
of  the  meannefs  of  foul,  and  hardnefs  of  heart  frequently 
to  be  found  in  traders  and  men  of  bufinefs,  but  never 
once  thought  of  following  their  example  in  fobriety,  ap- 
plication, and  regularity  in  the  dilbibution  of  their  time, 
to  which  they  manifellly  owed  all  their  fuccefs.  So  that 
upon  the  whole,  he  concluded  that  human  nature  in  all 
ages  and  in  all  places  was  the  fame.  A  fage  remark  the 
reader  will  fay,  but  I  can  eafily  remember  to  have  heard 
it  before. 

There  was  however  one  clafs  of  men  in  that  nation, 
wliofe  conflitution  as  a  body,  and  many  of  whofe  charac- 
ters and  practices  were  of  the  moll  extraordinary  kind, 
viz.  the  Servants.  Their  flate  and  condudl,  at  the 
time  which  fell  under  his  own  obfervation,  were  fo  fingu- 
iar  that  they  excited  his  curiofity ;  and  induced  him  to 


Introduction, 


^l() 


inquire  with  great  care  into  their  condition,  as  far  back  as 
hillory  could  trace  them.  This  is  what  I  am  now  to  com- 
municate to  the  pubHc,  being  wiUing  that  my  book 
ihould  be  buried  in  oblivion,  or  burned  with  difgrace,  if 
a  llory  can  be  produced  equal,  or  even  fimilar  to  it,  in  any 
other  age  or  country. 


[       220       ] 


CHAP.       I. 


Of  the  original  State  of  the  Ser'uants,  and  their  Erection 

into  a  Corporation, 


TN  very  early  times,  of  which  there  are  ftill  fome  ac- 
^  counts  handed  down  by  tradition,  the  fervants  were  in 
a  Hate  not  much  different  from  what  they  are  at  prefent 
am.ong  us.  It  does  not  appear  that  ever  they  wxre  ilaves, 
or  were  treated  with  exceilive  rigor  or  fe verity.  They 
were  trained  up  in  fome  acquaintance  with,  and  applied 
themfeives  to  f'uch  work  as  they  feemed  to  be  fitted  for  by 
the  turn  of  their  minds,  and  the  flrength  or  agility  of  their 
bodies.  They  were  chofen  or  hired  by  every  family  as 
they  pleafed,  made  a  voluntary  agreement,  and  were  em- 
ployed in  doing  what  was  neceffary  of  every  kind.  They 
"were  paid  as  they  and  the  family  could  agree,  eating  of 
their  own  labours,  and  were  cheriflied  and  careffed  in  pro- 
portion as  they  deferved  it.  In  cafes  of  remarkable  ne- 
^cC(.^  difobedience  or  mifbehavior  they  were  turned  away. 
This,  indeed,  happened  but  feldom,  for  they  were  in  ge- 
neral honefl,  fober  and  indulb*ious.  They  had  the  inte- 
reft  of  their  mailers  at  heart,  nay,  fo  remarkable  were 
fome  of  them  in  thefe  times  for  fidelity,  that  (it  is  report- 
ed) they  feemed  to  have  as  much  or  more  pleafure  in  do- 
ing their  work,  as  in  receiving  their  wages. 

But  it  happened,  fome  ages  ago,  that  one  of  their 
princes  was  faved  from  a  formidable  confpiracy  againfl 
his  life  and  crown,  juil  upon  the  point  of  execution,  by 
the  fidelity  and  courage  of  a  fervant.  The  prince  was 
a  man  of  a  warm  heart,  and  an  uncom.monly  generous 
difpofition.  Not  content  with  bountifully  rewarding  his 
benefa6lor  by  kindnefs  to  himfelf  and  family,  he  conceiv- 
ed a  defign  of  perpetuating  the  memory  of  the  fad,  and 
fliov/ing  his  gratitude  by  doing   fomething   in  favor   of 


History  of  a  Corporation^  ^c,  221 

the  whole  order  <)r  body  of  men.  For  this  purpofe,  be- 
ing poileft  of  abfolute  power,  after  confultuig  upon  it  for 
fome  time,  he  eilabhihed  the  following  regula.tions,  not 
doubting  that  they  would  be  highly  beneficial  to  his  fub- 
jefts  in  general,  as  well  as  the  fervants  in  particular. 

I.  It  was  ordered  that  the  wages  of  fervants  Ihould  be 
confiderably  augmented,  and  fixed  to  a  certain  rate  in  all 
the  king's  dominions.  This  was  evidently  did:ated  by 
compafTion.  He  obferved  that  it  was  very  hard  and  un- 
equal, thatthofe  who  were  conllantly  employed  in  labor, 
who  promoted  the  intereft  of  their  mailers  fb  much,  Ihould 
notwithftanding  live  fo  poorly  ;  that  they  fliould  have 
nothing  but  the  coarfefl:  diet,  and  no  more  money  tlian 
was  barely  neceflary  to  purchafe  the  meanell  cloathing* 
He  ufed,  when  the  matter  was  under  deliberation,  to  rea- 
fon  thus,  "  For  my  part,  I  think  a  king  ought  to  have 
"  the  heart  of  a  man  ;  I  confider  the  fervants  as  my  fel- 
"  lov/  creatures,  and  am  defirous  that  they  fiioulcl  tafle 
"  fome  of  thofe  pleafurcs  and  delicacies  of  life,  whick 
*'  they  contribute  10  largely  to  procure  for  the  accommo- 
"  dation  of  others." 

He  alfo  obferved,  that  intereft,  as  well  as  campaffion, 
diilatC'l  the  fame  thing  ;  that  keeping  them  poor  v/ould 
entirely  difpirit  tliem,  and  make  them  do  their  duty  in 
the  mofl  carelefs  and  llothful  manner,  by  whicli  their 
mailers  mull  receive  manifeil  prejudice.  On  the  other 
hand,  a  good  and  fccure  provifibn  would  give  thein  great 
vigor  and  alacrity.  He  ventured  to  foretel,  that  a  third 
]:iart  increafe  of  their  falary  would  increafe  their  work  in 
a.  far  greater  proportion,  fo  that  the  public  would  be  gain- 
ers by  this  fee.ming  burden.  Befides  that  fuch  a  fixed 
provifion  woukl  free  them  from  all  temptation  to  pilfer- 
ing and  Healing,  and  fo  be  an  improvement  upon  their 
hanelly  as  well  as  activity. 

Another  advantage  he  propofed  to  reap  by  tlais  meafurc 
was,  increaling  the  number  of  Servants.  It  was  well 
enough  remembered  that,  at  no  very  diilant  period,  the 
kingdom  had  fuffered  not  a  little  from  the  fiarcity  of  fer- 
vants ;.  io  that  the  land  lay  uncultivated,  and  many 
branches  of  buftne'S  neglected-     Now  it  was  impolTible 


212  The  History  of  a 

to  avoid  feeing  that  this  meafure  mufl:  increafe  the  num- 
ber of  fervants,  by  inducing  them  to  come  into  the  king- 
dom from  the  moft  diflant  places,  as  well  as  encouraging 
them  to  marry  and  propagate,  and  blefs  their  country  with 
a  multitude  of  ufeful  hands. 

Nay,  he  even  called  in  the  aid  of  luxury  to  enforce 
his  argument,  alledging,  that  keeping  the  fervants  poor, 
mufl  make  them  fordid  and  nafty,  fo  that  it  would  be 
odious  to  people  of  tafte  and  elegance  to  have  them  about 
their  perfons,  or  even  to  fee  them  in  their  houfes.  But 
by  carrying  the  propofed  defign  into  execution,  he  faid, 
he  hoped  to  fee  the  fervants  in  general  genteel,  well  dreff- 
ed,  well  behaved,  and  converfible  men.  That  this  muft 
be  an  advantage  in  particular  to  families  in  the  country, 
who  were  confiderably  diflant  from  one  another,  and,  in 
certain  feafons  of  the  year,  could  have  very  little  inter- 
courfc  :  nay,  even  that  in  cities  and  places  of  greater  re- 
fort,  it  would  be  better,  in  many  refpefts  to  have  oppor- 
tunities of  converfation  within  doors,  than  to  be  always 
obliged  to  feek  fociety  abroad. 

In  fhort,  he  fuppofed  that  the  regulation  now  eflablifhed 
would  put  an  entire  period  to  all  the  murmurings  and 
complaints  of  fervants,  and  their  defires  of  ihifting  from 
one  family  to  another,  which  w^as  a  fource  of  daily  incon- 
veniencies.  They  mufl  be  touched,  fays  he,  with  a  fenfe 
of  gratitude  for  fo  unexpected  and  fo  happy  a  change  in 
their  fituation,  and  will  therefore  be  thoroughly  content, 
and  ne'oer  ask  for  more, 

2.  Having  the  public  good  all  along  at  heart,  as  much 
as  the  advaiitage  of  the  fervants,  he  ordered  fchools  and 
places  of  exercife  to  be  built,  and  mailers  appointed  tq 

train  up  fervants  and  fit  them  for  their  feveral  trufls. 

There  were  diiFerent  trads  of  education  chalked  out  for 
all  different  forts  of  employments.  It  was  particularly 
cxpe6led  of  the  diredors  of  thefe  academies,  that  they 
would  fele6l  the  fervants  fit  for  every  branch,  and  both 
educate  and  difpofe  of  them  according  as  their  genius 
Ihould  intimate  they  were  mofl  capable.  As  for  example, 
for  cooks,  waiting-men,  and  other  domeflic  fervants,  and 


Corporation  of  Servants.  11% 

grooms,  gardeners,  and  laboring  men  of  all  forts  without 
doors. 

The  advantage  of  this  regulation,  in  both  its  parts, 
feemed  very  evident.  Education,  it  was  faid,  is  all  in  all. 
Education  makes  the  man,  and  makes  the  fervant.  It 
will  therefore  prepare  them  for  their  work.  They  will 
enter  upon  it  expert  and  proven,  very  much  to  the  pub- 
lic emolument ;  inflead  of  being  aukward  and  unhandy 
for  fome  time,  till  experience  has  given  them  facility,  or, 
perhaps,  retaining  fome  meafure  of  ruilicity  and  inacti- 
vity through  their  whole  lives. 

It  feemed  alfo  a  matter  of  great  moment,  that  no  man 
fliould  be  fufFered  to  profefs  what  he  could  not  do,  but 
that  he  fhould  be  conlined  to  that  only  which  he  could 
belt  do.  Neither  was  it  proper  that  this  Ihould  be  left  to 
the  caprice  of  families,  or  the  ambition  and  prefumption 
of  the  fervants  themfelves.  And  it  was  never  once  ima- 
gined the  mailers  of  academies  v/ould  be  defective  mjudg- 
pient  and  impartiality  on  their  part. 
^  3.  The  third  and  lad  regulation  he  eftabliflied,  was 
prdering  the  fervants  to  be  ere6led  by  charter  into  a  large 
corporation,  containing  many  fmaller  bodies  and  focieties 
within  it.  To  this  corporation  he  gave  a.uthority  over 
the  feveral  members  of  which  it  was  compofed,  and  ella- 
blifhed  a  complete  fubordination.  This  was  thought  a 
piece  of  admirable  wifdom  and  policy.  They  were  to  be 
llridtly  watchful  over  one  another,  and  it  vv'as  fuppofed 
they  would  get  all  the  advantage  in  this  fhape,  which  men 
united  in  fociety  have  over  thofe  in  a  ftate  of  nature. — 
The  feveral  clafTes  and  divifions  of  the  corporation  were 
to  try  the  fufficiency  of  all  fervants  before  they  were  ad- 
mitted, and  had  power  to  turn  them  off  when  they  mifbe- 
haved  or  neglected  their  work.  That  this  might  proceed 
with  the  greater  regularity,  they  were  every  one  fecured 
by  law  in  their  employments.  They  were  not  left  in  a 
yague  dependant  ftate:  a  fervant  once  hired  by  any  family 
could  not  be  turned  away  but  by  an  order  ofhisfellow- 
fervants,  to  whom  all  complaints  of  his  condu6l  were  t<%- 
be  made,  and  bv  whom  they  were  to  be  .iud;Ted.. 


^24  .  •    The  History  of  a 

The  whole  was  founded  upon  the  mod  excellent  rea- 
fons.  Who  fo  proper  to  judge  of  the  capacity  and  dili- 
gence of  fervants  as  thofe  who  are  fervants  themfelves  ? 
who  can  be  fuppofed  fo  attentive  to  their  condudl,  or  fo 
jealous  of  their  behaviour,  fince  the  character  of  particulars 
muft  evidently  refledl  either  ^difgrace  or  credit  on  the 
whole  coUedlive  body. 

C    H    A    P.       II. 

Of  the  Effects  produced  by  these  Regulations, 

T  firft,  and  indeed  for  a  confiderable  time  after  thefe 
regulations  were  ellablifhed,  experience  feemed  to 
couiirni  the  wifdom  as  well  as  generoiity  of  the  prince, 
and  to  difcover  their  happy  confequences  every  day.  Ser- 
vants were  trained  up  and  inilru£ted  in  every  branch  of 
bufuiefs,  and  were  very  expert  in  their  work.  They  un- 
deriiood  the  caufe,  the  reafon  and  the  end  of  every  thing, 
and  could  talk  upon  it,  in  a  moil  intelligent  and  confif- 
tent  manner.  I'hey  did  every  thing  with  much  exaft- 
nefs,  and  liad  plainly  a  far  greater  air  of  neatnefs  and  ele- 
gance than  formerly.  The  fields  were  drefied  and  trim- 
med to  great  perfection ;  the  utenfils  of  the  houfes  were 
all  brightened  and  put  in  order ;  the  outfides  of  the  houfes 
and  avenues  to  them  were  all  adorned  in  a  very  pretty 
and  fanciful  manner.  They  were  not  content  with  what 
was  barely  profitable  to  their  mafters,  but  paid  alfo  a  due 
regard  to  fliov/  and  appearance.  Perfons  who  travelled 
were  exceedingly  delighted,  and  the  proprietors  were  not 
\\  little  proud  ot  the  change ;  for  every  houfe  was  like  a 
little  palace,  and  every  country-feat  like  a  litde  paradife. 
Thus  far  the  fervants  feemed  to  be  much  upon  their 
honor,  and,  from  a  fenfe  of  gratitude  to  the  emperor,  en- 
deavored to  behave  themfelves  with  great  care  and  dili- 
gence ;  fo  that  every  body,  as  well  as  themlelves,  fmcerely 
rejoiced  in  the  change  of  their  ilate. 

But  alas  !  how  lliort-fighted  are  human  creatarcs  ?  this 
univerfal  fatisfaftion  did  not  lall.  long.  .It  was  quickly 
fcen,  notwithftanding  fo  good  a  beginning,  that  the  regu- 


Corporation  of  Servants,  225 

lations  laid  down  would  but  ill  anfwer  the  end  propofed. 
The  change  to  the  worfe  took  its  rile  from  the  enlarge- 
ment of  iheir  wages,  which  yet  feemed,  at  firft,  to  be  the 
chief  and  mod  rcafonable  article  of  the  regulations  :  for, 
after  they  had  obtained  good  wages,  and  the  bed  of  food, 
and  accommodation,  fome  of  them  began  to  grow  fat,  and 
confecjuently  lazy.  When  they  were  fuddenly  called, 
fometimes  by  dozing  and  ileeping  they  did  not  hear  at 
all ;  and  when  they  did  hear,  were  very  flow  in  their  mo- 
tions, and  always  ready  furnifhed  with  an  excufe  for  their 
negle(Sl ;  or,  ]?erhaps  raifed  fome  very  ftrong  obje(5tions 
to  what  they  were  defired  to  do.  When  they  Vv^ere  fent 
of  an  errand,  they  took  a  long  time  before  they  returned ; 
and  yet  would  pofitively  (land  to  it,  that  it  was  impoffi- 
ble  to  return  fooner.  If  this  was  not  fatisfying,  they 
would,  in  a  great  rage,  before  they  delivered  their  mefiage, 
return  and  meafure  the  ground  they  had  traverfed,  in  or- 
der to  determine  the  difpute. 

Having  now  more  to  eat  and  drink  than  formerly,  they 
behoved  to  take  more  time  to  it ;  and  fo  the  hours  of  their 
work  were  very  much  diminifhed.  This  feemed  to  them 
not  only  reafonable,  but  neceffary  ;  and  great  difputes 
arofe  upon  it  with  the  families  in  which  they  ferved.  The 
families  in  general,  gave  them  to  underfland,  that  they 
expected  greater  diligence  and  adlivity,  as  they  were  now 
better  paid  than  before,  v/hereas  the  fervants  counted  that 
highly  ridiculous  ;  for  with  them  it  Vv^as  a  fixed  point, 
that  the  more  liberally  they  v/ere  paid,  they  ought  to  do 
the  lefs  for  it.  It  is  needlefs  to  enlarge  upon  this  part  of 
the  fubje£l ;  let  it  fufBce  to  fay,  that,  in  general,  having 
now  got  fo  good  provifion  made  for  them,  they  began  not 
to  ferve,  but  to  live.  The  delicacies  of  the  world  began 
to  captivate  their  hearts,  and  inftead  of  fatisfying  them- 
felves  v/ith  neceflaries,  and  being  ufeful  in  their  genera- 
tion, they  bethought  themfelves  of  enjoying  what  had  thus 
fo  luckily  fallen  to  their  fliare. 

Changes  in  all  refpefts  came  on  infenfibly.  It  was 
before  obferved,  that  one  advantage  propofed  by  the  regu- 
lations, was  the  increafe  of  the  number  of  fervants.  This 
effedt  indeed  did  follow  witli  a  witnefs.     Whereas  before 

Ff 


226  The  History  of  a 

the  country  was  not  overflocked  with  fervaats,  and  famU 
lies  were  at  great  paias  in  looking  out  for  proper  ones, 
now  they  increafed  to  an  almoft  incredible  number.  Not 
only  was  there  a  great  confluence  of  ilrangers  from  dif- 
tant  places,  but  many  of  the  inhabitants,  not  inconfidera- 
ble  in  point  of  ftation  found  it  their  interefl  to  become  fer- 
vants.  Now  you  would  every  where  fee  them  going 
about  and  foliciting  employment,  and  very  wonderful 
were  the  arts  they  fometimes  ufed  to  obtain  it.  Of  thefe 
I  fhall  fay  nothing  in  this  preliminary  part  of  the  hiilory, 
becaufe  I  fhall  probLibly  have  afterwards  a  better  opportu- 
nity to  introduce  them. 

As  the  ifate  of  things  and  the  way  of  thinking  began  to 
alter,  the  language  and  manner  of  fpeaking  altered  alfo  at 
the  fame  time.  In  former  times  they  ufed  to  fpeak  of 
getting  a  mailer,  or  being  hired,  or  getting  an  employ- 
ment, now  they  fpake  of  getting  into  bread,  of  getting  a 
falary,  a  fettlement,  or  a  living.  I  know  nothing  that  re- 
fembles  this  difference  fo  much,  as  the  difference  between 
our  way  of  fpeaking  in  Scotland,  and  what  is  ufual  in  our 
neighbor  country  of  England  about  fervants.  Here  we 
fpeak  of  a  fervant's  getting  into  fervice  :  in  England  they 
call  it  getting  a  place,  and  a  footmen  turned  away,  they 
term  with  the  highcft  propriety,  a  footman  out  of  place. 

Things  having  once  come  into  this  ntuation,  it  happen- 
ed with  thefe  fervants  as  it  happens  with  all  men  when 
once  they  begin  to  gratify  their  defires  :  they  become  in- 
ordinate, exceffive  and  infatiable.  Inftead  of  being  con- 
tent with  what  they  had  obtained,  they  began  to  fall  upon 
all  imaginable  methods  of  increafmg  their  revenues.  They 
contrived  an  infinite  number  of  perquifites  befides  their 
ordinary  wages.  When  a  family  had  of  their  own  free 
motion  beffowed  any  mark  of  favor  upon  a  good  fervant, 
the  thing  was  immediately  fpread  abroad,  and  all  other  fa- 
milies were  harralfed  with  complaints,  and  teazed  to  death 
by  their  fervants  till  the  fame  was  beffowed  upon  them. 
They  would  often,  in  a  clandeftine  manner,  lay  hold  of 
fome  of  the  goods  of  the  family,  and  appropriate  them  to 
their  own  ufe  ;  and,  when  it  came  at  laft  to  be  difcovered, 
they  would  take  the  advantage  of  their  own  covetoufnefs» 


Corporation  of  Servants.  227 

and  prove  clearly,  that  by  immemorial  cuflom  it  belonged 
to  them  as  their  due.  .  AVhere  families  were  ignorant, 
they  would  affirm  with  tlie  greatelt  holdnefs,  that  fuch  and 
fuch  were  the  privileges  of  fervants  in  all  other  places,  and 
hy  that  means  procure  their  confent.  When  they  were 
not  only  ignorant,  but  timid  and  cowardly,  they  would  go 
a  fhort  way  to  work,  and  threaten  to  burn  their  houfes  to 
the  ground  if  they  did  not  comply  with  every  demand. 

But,  what  they  excelled  moft  in  were  the  arts  of  flatte- 
ry and  deceit  in  rich  families.  Such  as  got  near  great 
men  would  ftand  as  it  were  in  perpetual  admiration  of  the 
beauty  of  their  perfons,  the  gracefulnefs  of  their  manners, 
and  the  excellence  of  their  underdandings.  The  fervants 
of  fome  perfons  of  great  rank,  had  a  cuftom  of  making  up 
a  long  lift  every  day,  of  the  virtues  which  fuch  perfons 
had  that  day  put  in  pra(5lice,  and  reading  it  over  to  them 
next  morning  before  they  got  out  of  bed,  which  was  ob- 
ferved  to  render  them  quite  facile  and  tradlable  for  a  long 
time  after. 

They  perfuaded  the  credulous,  that  the  public  good  was 
infeparably  connefted  with  their  thriving  and  opulence. 
'  Induftry,'  faid  they,  '  is  the  fource  of  weaiih  to  a  na- 
'  tion.  Servants,  everybody  mufi:  acknowledge,  are  the 
'  means  of  induftry :  thence  it  follows  undeniably,  that 
'  the  more  fervants  the  better.'  By  the  help  of  this  ar- 
gument they  obtained,  that  many  new  eilabliiliments 
were  made  for  fervants.  And  fuch  was  the  fafcination 
that  prevailed,  that  frec]uently  there  were  fettlements  made 
for  the  provifion  of  menial  fervants  in  a  wildernefs,  where 
there  v/as  hardly  a  fmgle  creature  to  ferve  ;  and  of  huf- 
bandmen  upon  a  fea  Ihore,  where  there  was  not  an  inch 
of  ground  to  cultivate.  They  alfo  got  about  fick  and  dy- 
ing perfons,  and  by  their  officious  fcrviees,  b)^  tending 
them  with  apparent  care,  and  by  frequently  and  readily 
giving  them  cordials,  they  prevailed,  that  many  left  gre§.t 
legacies  to  them  in  their  wills. 


228  The  History  of  a 

CHAP.       III. 

Continues  the  same  subject.     And  particularly  gives  an 
account  of  a  very  remarkable  step  taken  by  the  Servants. 

WHEN  their  pofleflions,  privileges  and  immunities 
were  thus  enlarged,  they  began  to  claim  greater 
relpe6l  than  formerly,  and  to  alTume  additional  titles  and 
defignations.  Some  of  them  would  be  no  longer  fervants 
properly  fpeaking,  but  overfeers.  They  affirmed  that  it 
was  eflential  to  the  nature  of  fervants,  that  fome  of  them 
Hiould  be  overfeers,  and  that  there  could  be  neither  order 
nor  ceconomy  in  a  family  without  fome  fuch.  To  this 
they  added  fub-overfeers,  and  feveral  other  officers  for 
their  affiilance.  They  then  proceeded  to  arch-overfeers, 
who  had  all  the  other  overfeers,  as  well  as  fervants,  under 
their  jurifdiclion.  At  a  great  meeting  of  the  whole  cor- 
poration, this  was  determined  and  decreed  to  be,  and  to 
have  been,  a  part  of  the  original  inllitution  of  fervitude, 
without  which  it  could  not  poffibly  fubfift. 

Thefe  encroachments  were  very  patiently  fubmitted  to, 
and,  one  would  think,  had  been  carried  as  far  as  the  na- 
ture of  the  thing  wtiuld  admit.  Yet  there  remained  one 
Hep  more  which  exceeded  every  thing  that  had  been  for- 
merly feen,  and  happened  as  follows.  An  overfeer  of  the 
capital  city  gathered  a  great  many  of  his  cotemporaries 
about  him,  and  after  begging  their  moll  ferious  attention  to 
a  propofal  he  had  to  lay  before  them,  made  a  fpeech  to  the 
following  purpofe.  '  Honored  and  very  dear  Brethren, 
'  You  know  that  the  life  of  fociety  is  order,  and  the  foul 
'  of  order  is  fubordination.  The  greatefi:  fervice,  there- 
'  fore,  that  we  can  do  to  our  corporation,  is  to  keep  up 
'  the  fubordination  of  officers  among  us  with  as  much 
'  ftriQnefs,  and  to  make  it  as  compleat  and  extenfive  as 
'  poffible.  There  are  no  ilrudlures  which  Hand  fo  fecure- 
'  ly,  as  thofe  that  are  built  in  the  form  of  a  cone  or  a  py- 
'  ramid,  becaufe  tliey  have  a  broad  bafe,  and  gradually 
'  lefTen  towards  the  top.  Neither  of  thefe,  however,  is 
'  compleat,  but  maimed  or  imperfed,  unlefs  it  be  carried 


Corporation  of  Serniants,  229 

on  till  it  terminate  in  a  point.  Therefore,  the  fubordi- 
nation  of  our  fociety  can  never  be  entire  and  perfect, 
till  it  end  in  a  fmgle  perfon,  who  may  unite  the  whole, 
and  enjoy  abfolute  uncontrolable  dominion.  And,  as 
the  perfon  who  is  on  the  top  of  a  pyramid,  muft  neceila- 
rily  fee  farther  than  thofe  who  ftand  upon  any  of  the 
lower  fleps  of  it,  fo  the  perfon  w^ho  is  at  the  head  of  the 
whole  fociety  of  fervants  mufl,  in  virtue  of  his  office,  fur- 
pafs  them  all  in  wiidom  and  fagacity.  Nay,  as  thjs  or- 
der is  of  the  inftitution  of  nature,  and  as  a  iall  rcfort  or 
fupreme  judge  is  neceflary  to  determine  controverfies  in 
any  fociety,  fo  I  do  think  it  may  be  proved,  that  nature, 
to  be  uniform  and  confident  in  her  operations,  muft  im- 
mediately infpire  the  perfon  fo  exalted,  with  infallible 
knowledp'e,  and  a  fort  of  infinite  mind.  Now,  I  hope 
it  is  very  plain,  that  I  myfelf  am  the  perfon  to  whom, 
and  to  my  fucceffors  in  office,  this  power  and  authority 
do  of  right  belong.' 

One  of  thxC  affembly  then  rifes  up  and  fays,  '  I  greatly 
fufpedt  this  will  be  attended  with  no  good  eiFedts  upon 
the  intereft  of  the  fervants  in  general,  not  to  mention 
the  intereft  of  the  families,  which,  from  a  fenfe  of  duty 
to  the  corporation,  I  entirely  give  up.     At  any  rate,  it 
ought  not  to  be  gone  into  precipitatelj^ ;  for  it  is  a  pro- 
digious innovation.'    '  Quite  otherwife,'  fays  the  former 
Ipeaker;  '  for  though  I  have  condefcended  to  reafon  with 
you,  and  lliow  you,  that  in  the  nature  of  things,  there 
muft  be  one  who,  like  the  top  ftone  of  a  pyramid,  is  in- 
cumbent on  the  whole  body  ;  as  alfo,  tliat  this  can  be  no 
other  than  u\y\t\t^  who  dwell  in  the  centre  of  this  vaft 
empire ;  yet  1   can  give   undeniable  evidence,  that  it 
hath  been  always  fo  in  fact,  fmce  there  was  an  empire 
here,  and  fmce  there  were  fervants.'     The  objeftor  then 
fhook  his  head,  as  who  lliould  fay  that  is  far  from  being 
a  clear  point,  and  feemed  to  wonder  from  whence  this 
evidence  was  to  proceed.    The  other  immediately  goes  on, 
'  It  is  as  clear  as  the  fun  ;   for  though  all  the  records  that 
'  contained  this  regulation  are  loft,  yet  I  very  w^ell  remem- 
'  ber,  that  my  nurie  told  me  before  I  was  two  years  of 
*  age,  that- her  grandmother's  filler's  coufni-gcrman  aiTured 
'  her  it  was  fha.' 


^30  ^he  History  of  a 

However  unwilling,  one  would  think,  men  fhould  be 
to  give  up  their  natural  rights,  and  fubmit  to  ufurped  au- 
thority, yet  fo  it  was  that  they  foon  agreed  to  this  fcheme ; 
and,  indeed,  it  appeared  to  have  been  not  ill  projeded 
for  their  own  ends.  It  is  not  to  be  conceived  at  how  fpeedy 
a  pace  they  advanced,  in  acquiring  and  extending  their 
dominion.  They  quite  inverted  the  ufe  of  language  ;  for 
when  they  fpoke  of  the  family  they  always  meant  the  fer- 
vants  ;  or,  if  they  faid  any  thing  would  tend  to  the  good 
of  the  family,  it  was  to  be  underflood,  that  it  would  pro- 
mote the  increafe  of  the  wages,  privileges  and  immunities 
of  the  fervants.  In  many  places  the  fcrvants  grew  upon 
the  families,  and  turned  them  out  altogether.  In  fome  of 
the  moft  delicious  fpots  of  the  countr}^  you  would  have 
feen  fine  feats  and  inclofures  wholly  poffeffed  by  fervants, 
who  abfolutely  refufed  to  do  any  work,  but  gave  them- 
felves  up  to  lazy  contemplation.  If  any  body  had  pre- 
fumed  to  aflv  them  the  meaning  of  this,  they  faid  they 
were  employed  in  fludying  the  theory  of  fervice,  and 
wifhing  that  all  fervants  might  be  good,  and  all  families 
well  fupplied. 

It  has  been  obferved  above,  that  they  began  their  fcheme 
by  flattering  the  rich  and  great  men,  and  endeavoring  to 
infmiiate  themfelves  into  their  favor.  But  aflbon  as  their 
power  was  fufFiciently  eflablifhed,  they  changed  their  note, 
and  treated  tlie  moft  confiderable  men  of  the  country  with 
great  haughtinefs  and  contempt.  They  affirmed  it  to 
be  abfolutely  neceffary  for  the  public  good,  that  they  fhould 
ha.ve  much  honor  and  refped  paid  them.  That,  as  they 
w^re  undeniably  the  moll  ufeful  rank  of  men,  by  confe- 
quence  they  were  the  moft  honorable.  Inftead  of  being 
humble  and  fubmiftive,  they  infifted,  that  all  the  people, 
from  the  higheft  to  the  loweft,  fliould  pay  a  profound  re- 
fpecl  to  the  overfeers,arch-overfeers,  and  other  dignitaries, 
whofe  names  I  have  forgot,  becaule  they  had  neither  fenfe 
nor  meaning.  Nay,  the  emperor  of  the  fervants  arrived 
in  time  at  fuch  power,  that  he  made  the  richeft  men  in 
the  country,  even  the  governors  of  provinces  to  tremble. 
He  ordered  them  fometimes  to  wipe  his  flioes ;  and,  when 
they  mifbehaved  or  fliowed  the  leaft  backwardnefs,  com- 
manded them  to  be  whipt. 


Corporation  oj  Servants.  231 

When  my  informer  mentioned  this  circumflance,  I 
could  not  help  difcovering  much  amazement  at  the  pufil- 
lanimity  of  thefe  people,  and  even  modeilly  hinted  fome 
fulpicion  as  to  the  truth  of  the  fa61:.  He  infilled,  hovrever, 
in  the  moll  pofitive  manner,  on  the  truth  of  his  account, 
and  added,  that  he  had  many  things  flill  more  wonderful 
to  communicate ;  as  an  initance  of  which  he  afiirmed, 
that  it  was  not  only  ufual  for  the  emperor  to  order  great 
men  to  be  whipt,  but  even  to  command  them  to  whip 
themfelves.  All  this  they  v/ere  obliged  to  fubmit  to,  for  he 
had  the  lower  fervants,  and  the  whole  kingdom  abfolute- 
ly  under  his  influence.  If  any  perfon  or  family  had  dif- 
puted  his  will  in  the  lead  article,  they  would  either,  with- 
out more  ado,  burn  the  liouie  and  them  in  it,  or  they 
would  wholly  give  over  work,  and  neither  provide  them 
with  food  nor  fuel,  fo  that  they  behoved  immediately  to 
llarve. 

What  contributed  not  a  little  to  eflablifli  this  ufurpati- 
on,  was  a  very  fmgular  fcheme  which  they  fell  upon  while 
they  were  flattering  great  men,  and  perfuading  them  to 
make  new  eflablifliments  for  fervants.  This  was,  that 
families  fliould  not  be  permitted  to  choofe  fervants  for 
themfelves,  but  that  a  lord,  or  any  other  great  man,  fhould 
vhave  the  power  of  nominating  the  fervants  within  a  certain 
diilrid.  They  never  failed  to  invent  plaufible  reafons 
for  all  their  fchemes.  In  fup port  of  this  it  was  alledged, 
that  families  were  often  whimfical  in  their  choice.  That 
fome  would  prefer  a  fervant  becaufe  he  was  tall,  and 
others  becaufe  he  was  fhort ;  fome  becaufe  his  hair  was 
red,  others  becaufe  it  was  black.  That  they  did  not  know 
when  they  were  well  ferved,  and  when  they  were  not. 
That  they  were  apt  to  be  impofed  on  by  fuch  as  had 
fmooth  tongues  and  could  flatter  them.  That,  if  families 
and  fervants  were  in  a  good  underllanding,  they  would 
raife  fedition  and  fubvert  the  conflitution. 

On  the  other  hand  it  was  thought  exceeding  clear,  that 
great  men  would  underftand  the  intereft  of  the  country, 
and  the  capacity  of  fervants,  much  better  than  the  vulgar.- 
As  alfo,  that  they  were  above  all  fufpicion  of  partiality,, 
aind  would  be  fure  always  to  fcpid  fit   and  accompliilKd 


2^2  The  History  of  a 

fervants  to  every  houfe.  But  alas,  the  contrary  of  all 
this  was  foon  found  by  experience.  They  learned  fpee- 
dily  to  fell  every  place  to  the  highcfl  bidder,  unlefs  when 
they  had  a  favorite  or  dependant  to  gratify,  which  indeed, 
at  bottom,  was  the  fame  thing.  However,  they  were 
foon  made  dupes  to  the  fervants,  for  when  the  profit  of 
this  fale  was  found  out,  the  overfeers  and  arch-overfeers 
gradually  ufurped  the  nomination  to  themfelves,  and  at 
lad,  it  came  to  be  made  an  addition  to  the  great  and  over- 
grown power  of  the  emperor. 

It  may  cafily  be  fuppofed,  things  were  now  in  a  fad  fitu- 
ation,  and  they  continued  fo,  as  tradition  and  written  re- 
cords aflure  us,  for  many  ages.  The  lands  lay  unculti- 
vated ;  the  people  were  reduced  to  the  greatefl  mifery 
imaginable  ;  they  were  forrily  clothed,  and  worfe  fed. 
No  body  profpered  but  the  fervants,  or  rather,  only  the 
upper  ranks  of  them,  the  noble  and  honorable  fervants, 
the  overfeers  and  arch-overfeers.  To  thefe  indeed  may 
be  added  the  idle  and  fpeculative  fort,  who  were  fettled  in 
hives,  in  the  mod  pleafant  and  fruitful  vallies,  in  every 
province.  i\s  for  the  poorer  or  lovved  clafs  of  fervants, 
who  actually  did  any  work  for  the  families,  they  were  as 
much  opprefTed,  by  this  time,  as  their  maders.  Their 
wages  were  modly  taken  up  by  lazy  overfeers,  or  exhaud- 
ed  by  heavy  taxes  which  they  were  obliged  to  pay  to  the 
emperor,  and  his  court. 


CHAP.       IV. 

A  terrible  Blow  given  to  the  Domination  of  the  Servants; 
and  particularly  to  the  Power  of  the  Emperor, 

5T  appears  to  be  a  fa6t,  though  not  very  well  accounted 
for  by  philofophers,  that,  when  men  have  been  long 
accudomedto  flavery,  they  hug  their  chains,  and  become 
fo  blinded,  as  to  pride  themfelves  in  their  mifery  itfelf.  A 
poor  peafant,  in  a  neighboring  country,  whole  face  is 
pale  with  hunger,  and  his  family  fcarce  covered  v/ith  rags, 
through  the  oppreillon  of  his  prince,  }'et  will  be  very  ready 


Corporation  of  Servants,  7.33 

to  Venture  his  life  in  vindication  of  the  tyrant's  honor,  and 
count  himfe  If  extremely  happy  to  lay  it  down  in  defence 
of  his  perlbn.  So  it  happened  with  the  people  under  con- 
fideration.  They  were  fo  deluded  by  thefe  fervants,  that, 
as  their  condition,  fo  their  reafon  itfelf  was  turned  upfide 
down.  They  gloried  in  the  ufurpation  of  the  fervants  over 
them,  worfhipped  them  often  as  they  paiTed,  and  fioutly 
defended  all  their  rights  and  privileges. 

If  by  chance  it  happened,  (as  there  were  always  fome 
in  every  age)  that  one  thought  fit  to  complain  of  the  floth, 
debauchery,  avarice  and  tyranny  of  the  fervants,  his  bre- 
thren immediately  raifed  a  hideous  accufation  againft  him, 
and  the  ilupid  people  generally  joined  in  the  cry.  They 
immediately  affifted  his  fellow-fervants  to  feize  him,  to 
imprifon  him,  and,  according  to  the  degree  of  his  offence, 
to  punifli  him.  They  firft,  indeed,  took  the  mod:  chari- 
table pains  to  convince  him  of  his  error.  If,  upon  this, 
he  was  willing  to  recant,  and  folemnly  to  declare  that  the 
condu6l  of  the  fervants  was  admirable,  and  the  character 
of  them  allunblameable,  he  was  difmifTed  only  with  a 
good  beating.  But,  if  he  was  obftinate,  and  infixed  on 
telling  the  truth,  he  was  carried  to  a  dreadful  fubterrane- 
ous  place,  and  there  put  to  the  moft  horrid  and  Ihock- 
ing  tortures,  which  at  length  ended  in  death. 

However,  at  laft,  this  myftery  of  iniquity  got  a  terrible 
blow.  One  of  the  lov/er  fervants,  of  an  honed  heart, 
and  a  determined  refolute  temper,  being  filled  with  indig- 
nation at  the  oppreffion  v/hich  the  reft  were  guilty  of,  fet 
himfelf  to  open  the  eyes  of  the  public,  and  expofe  their 
wickednefs.  He  made  a  full  difcovery  of  all  the  frauds 
he  had  any  how  been  acquainted  with,  and  fpared  not  the 
corruption  of  the  emperor's  court.  Laying  down  only 
this  plain  principle,  that  fervants  were  obliged  to  promote, 
at  all  times,  the  real  intereft  of  their  mafters,  he  fet  the 
abominable  conduct  of  the  covetous  blood-fuckers  in  the 
mod  odious  light.  Whenever  he  went  to  a  fair,  or  other 
place  of  public  concourfe,  he  would  get  upon  an  eminence, 
and,  in  a  long  difcourfe,  endeavor  to  roufe  the  people  from 
their  lethargy,  and  inflame  them  with  refentment  againd 
their  oppreifors. 

Vol.  ill.  G  g 


2'34  ^^  history  of  a 

This  furnlflied  his  brethren  with  an  opportunity  of  re- 
prefenting  him  as  a  difturber  of  the  peace,  and  loading 
him  with  innumerable  calumnies.  Many  tumults  were 
raifed  againfl  him,  and  he  was  often  in  imminent  danger 
of  his  life.  When  he  had  narrowly  efcaped  being  ftoned 
in  public,  the}^  would  often  hire  defperadoes  to  ailaffmate 
him  in  private;  and^  fometimes,  attempted  to  bribe  his 
intimate  friends  to  take  him  off  by  poifon.  However,  by 
a  mixture  of  bravery  and  caution  in  himfelf,  to^^^ether 
with  the  afliftance  of  fome  faithful  friends,  who  faw  how 
much  he  was  promoting  their  intereft,  or  rather,  by  a 
moll  fmgular  providence,  he  was  always  brought  off  fafe. 
At  lafl:,  a  {tw  oF  the  other  fervants  joined  him,  and  they 
together  opened  the  eyes  of  feveral  provinces  of  the  em- 
pire. Tiiefe  came  to  a  formal  relblution  of  cafting  off  the 
yoke  of  the  emperor,  and  fettling  the  fervants  upon  a  quite 
new,  or  rather  bringing  them  back  to  the  old,  reafonable 
and  natural  foundation. 

This  was  not  brought  about  without  a  moll  violent  and 
pertinaciousoppofition.  The  emperor  immediately  found- 
ed the  alarm,  and  fet  the  fervants  in  moiion  throughout 
all  his  dominions.  He  could  not  be  fuppofed,  indeed,  to 
look  upon  fuch  a  fcheme  with  ind  ff^rence  ;  for  it  plainly 
tended  to  ftrip  him  of  a  great  part  of  his  revenue  and  pow- 
er :  nor  was  it  eafy  to  fee  where  it  v.'ould  Hop.  He 
therefore  cried  out  againft  it  with  all  his  might.  He  fent 
out  a  proclamation,  in  which  he  affirmed,  that  it  llruck 
againft  the  very  being  of  fervants,  and  that  the  defign  was 
no  lefs  than  to  exterminate  them  from  the  face  of  the 
earth.  He  reprefented  it  as  the  moll  unnatural  thing  that 
ever  was  heard  of.  That  there  had  been  fometimes  con- 
fpiracies  of  fervants  againft  their  miafters,  but  ajointcon- 
fpiracy  of  mailers  againfl  their  own  fervr.nts,  and  of  fer- 
vants againll  their  fellow-fervants,  was  abfolutely  without 
precedent.  He  concluded  with  a  folemn  execration,  de- 
voting all  wlio  fhould  continue  in  this  rebellion  to  com- 
pleat  and  irretrievable  ruin. 

The  confequeiice  of  this  was  a  civil  war  in  the  king- 
dom. Many  battles  were  fought,  in  which  there  was  a 
dreadful  ilaughter  on  both  fides,  and  multitudes  taken 


Corporation  of  Servants,  2  3  5 

prifoners,  who  were  none  of  them  iifed  very  well.  The 
emperor  indeed,  and  his  court  had  a  maniied  advantage, 
by  long  pra6lice,  in  devifmg  the  moil  exqullite  methods 
of  revenge  and  cruelcy.  But,  to  Ihorten  my  narrative, 
alter  many  violent  and  bloody  difputes,  as  well  as  ufelefs 
conferences,  at  lail  fome  provinces  agreed  to  keep  the 
old  way,  and  fome  efLabUnied  the  new.  Particularly,  in 
one  Northern  province  there  was  at  the  time  of  the  change, 
a  moft  excellent  meihod  and  order  eftabliOied  with  regard 
to  the  fervants.  They  not  only  renounced  the  authority 
of  the  emperor  ;  but  all  overfecrs,  arch-overfeers,  auditors, 
controllers,  accountants,  keepers  of  records,  and  other 
unnecefTary  olFicers  were  baniflied  at  once  :  and  none 
fulFered  to  continue  but  ufeful  v/orking  fervants.  The 
fpeculative  drones  were  expelled,  and  their  lands  given 
to  perfons  of  rank  and  worth  in  the  province.  I'hatr 
regulation  was  abolifhed,  as  extremely  pernicious,  which 
permitted  lords  or  great  men  to  name  lervants  to  others, 
fo  that  every  family  chofe  fuch  as  bell  pleafed  themfelves, 
and  fuch  as  were  well  qualified  for  the  bufmefs  for  vvhicii 
they  were  hired.  The  exorbitant  increafe  of  their  wages 
was  reduced,  as  well  as  all  extravagant  perqiiiiites,  and 
only  a  moderate  provifion  continued  and  fettled. 

G  H  A  P.     V. 

Some  account  of  the  Reformed  Establishment^  in  a  North- 
ern Province  ;  and  the  happy  effects  that  followed 
upon  it  for  a  time.  It  begins  hovoever  again  to  dege- 
nerate, 

THE  people  of  this  province  were  now  fo  fully  con- 
vinced of  the  terrible  confeqiiences  of  the  late 
ulurpation,  that  they  refolved  to  ufe  all  polfible  precau- 
tions, to  prevent  the  return  of  corruption  for  the  future. 
In  this  the  fervants  themfelves  feemed  to  concur  very 
heartily,  and  were,  apparently,  animated  with  a  vvarai 
zeal  againll  the  worthlefs  part  of  their  own  order.  Many 
excellent  rules  were  laid  down  in  the  meetings  of  th^ 
corporation.     They  were  ordered  under  the  fcverell  pe« 


236  ne  History  of  a 

nalties  to  apply  themfelves  diligently  to  their  bufinefs  ;  te 
Ifve  Ibber,  grave  and  mortified  lives ;  to  forbear  all  rant- 
ing, junketing  and  gaming.  They  were  forbid  all  travel- 
ling abroad,  or  wandering  from  their  families,  but  upon 
urgent  occafions,  and  with  leave  afl^ed  and  given.  If  any 
were  convifted  of  diflionefly,  lazinefs,  or  difobedience, 
they  were  not  only  difmifled,  but  ftript  of  their  clothes, 
branded  in  their  foreheads,  and  declared  utterly  incapable 
#  of  ever  being  again  employed. 

The  greateft  ]lri(^nefs  imaginable  v/as  ufed  in  trying 
them,  as  to  their  fufficiency  in  every  branch  of  bufmefs  for 
•which they  were  hired;  and  very  diligent  inquiry  made 
into  their  character  for  honefty  and  fmcerity.  When  they 
Vv^ere  introduced  to  any  family,  they  were  folemnly 
bound  by  a  tremendous  oath,  to  have  the  good  of  the  fami- 
ly always  at  heart,  and  that  they  lliould  never  do  any  thing, 
direclly  or  indire6lly,  that  might  tend  to  its  prejudice. 
But  above  all,  there  was  a  ftript  law  made,  and  declared 
to  be  unalterable,  that  no  fervant  fhould  be  forced  upon 
any  family  againit  their  will.  In  order  to  fecure,  in  the 
iTioll  effe6lual  manner,  the  execution  of  thefe  laws,  it  was 
refolved,  that,  in  the  government  of  the  corporation,  there 
Ihould  be  joined  with  the  fervants  certain  perfons  of  the 
moft  prudent  fort  from  the  families.  Thefe  were  called 
helpers,  they  ha,d  no  falaries,  but  being  naturally  a  fort  of 
reprefentatives  of  the  people,  it  was  expeded  they  would 
univerfally  fuppcrt  their  intereft." 

For  a  long  time  this  province  was  exceeding  happy  in 
their  reformed  conftitution.  The  moil  perfect  harmony 
fubfiiled  between  mailers  and  fervants.  The  work  of  the 
fervants  feemed  to  be  a  pleafure  to  them,  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  members  of  every  family  feemed  to  vie 
with  one  another  who  fliould  treat  their  fervants  with  the 
greateft  tendernefs  and  humanity.  Once  or  twice  there 
was  an  attempt  made  to  introduce  overfeers  and  arch? 
overleers  among  them,  from  a  neighboring  province  which 
had  retained  tliefe  officers,  though  they  would  not  fufibr 
them  to  be  fubje<^  to  the  emperor.  However,  the  people 
fhowing  a  proper  fpirit,  they  were  Hill  thrown  out.  All 
this  time  matters  went  on  exceeding  well,  the  fields  v/erf 


Corporation  of  Servants.  237 

afliduouily  cultivated,  and  brought  every  year  immenfe 
crops;  and  plenty  as  well  as  harmony  was  every  where 
to  be  feen. 

Bat  alas,  after  a  longfeafoh  of  peace  and  quiet,  thnigs 
began  to  alter  for  the  w^orfe.  Ambition,  avarice  and  lux- 
my,  would  not  be  kept  out  by  the  banifliment  of  the  old 
titles.  They  found  a  way  of  introducing  themfelves,  un- 
der cover  of  the  form  that  then  prevailed,  without  any 
apparent  change.  The  mod  important  ftep  towards 
bringing  this  about,  was  re-eilablifl:iing  the  law  w^hich  em- 
powered great  men  to  nominate  fervants  to  inferior  fami- 
lies. This  was  fubmitted  to  the  more  eaOly,  becaufe 
they  only  nominated  them  to  the  falary,  provided  that  the 
corporation  fhould  think  proper  to  introduce  them  to  the 
family.  For  this  purpoib,  the  moil  facred  laws  required 
an  iiivitation  from  the  family  itfelf.  But  the  young  fer- 
vants foon  began  to  find,  that  it  was  far  caher  for  many 
of  them  to  play  the  parafite  or  fycophant  about  great  men's 
houfes,  that  they  might  procure  a  writ  of  nomination, 
than  to  acquire  a  good  reputation  for  diligence  in  their 
work.  That  was  the  road,  therefore,  in  which  the  great- 
^ft  part  of  them  travelled  to  preferment. 

Many  and  fierce  were  the  llruggles,  for  feveral  years,  in 
the  m^eetings  of  the  corporation  cibout  introducing  fer- 
vants to  families.  As  all  the  laws  required  an  invitation 
from  the  family,  when  any  perfon  was  nominated,  a 
neighboring  court  would  fend  a  deputation  to  the  family, 
to  alk  them  whether  they  v/ould  take  fuch  a  one  for  their 
fervant  or  not.  Sometimes  they  wheedled  and  flattered, 
and  fometimes  threatened  them,  if  they  would  not  comply. 
If  any  confented,  their  names  were  let  down  three  or  four 
times,  to  fweli  the  number  ;  if  any  were  angry  and  fpokc 
impertinently,  they  were  fuppofed  to  be  out  of  their  fen- 
fes,  and  incapable  of  judging.  After  thefe  arts  were  ufed 
they  would  (it  down  gravely  to  determine  the  matter,  and 
Jinci,  that  there  was  in  this  inllance  a  molt  agreeable  and 
harmonious  invitation. 

.  It  is  impoifible  to  help  fmillng,  when  one  refie61s  upon 
the  various  methods  ufed  in  condudling  this  bulinefs. — 
Sometimes  they  could  not  get  a  fmgle  perfon  in  a  houfe 


238  The  History  of  a 

to  accept  of  the  fervant  who  had  been  nominated.  When 
this  happened,  they  ufedto  fend  for  all  the  relations  of  the 
family,  even  the  moft  diflant  couiins,  and  ixik  their  con- 
fent,  which  was  eafily  obtained,  becaafe  it  was  nothing 
to  tnem  whether  the  family  were  well  ferved  or  ill. — 
When  they  had  obtained  it,  if  a  complaint  was  made, 
they  endeavored  to  prove,  by  very  ingenious  reafonings, 
that  thefe  diilant  relations  had  as  good  a  title  to  invite  a 
fervant  as  any  perfon  whatever.  Matters  however  drove 
on  very  heavily  for  a  while  ;  but  in  order  to  facilitate 
them,  many  gentlemen  of  eilates,  who  knew  not  much 
either  about  fervice  or  fervants,  procured  themfelves  to 
be  chofcn  to  the  office  of  helpers.  Not  that  they  helped 
to  tlo  any  thing :  but,  getting  in  to  be  members  of  the 
courts  of  the  corporation,  they  contributed  to  provide  fer- 
vants in  places.  By  this  means  many  were  provided 
with  a  piece  of  bread,  who  had  been  poorfneaking  fellows, 
and  had  iollowed  them  in  their  youtii,  m  hunting,  fifhing, 
and  other  diverfions. 

Such  was  the  fituation  of  affairs  when  my  informer 
went  into  the  country,  and,  as  the  cafe  was  very  fmgular, 
the  reader  may  eahly  guefs  how  much  it  engaged  his  at- 
teuiion.  He  rellded  chiefly  in  this  Northern  province, 
and,  therelore,  his  remarks  were  moilly  confined  to  what 
happened  among  them.  It  would  be  endlefs  to  mention 
ail  that  he  told  me,  but  the  principal  obfervations  fliall 
be  communicated  to  the  world  in  the  following  chapters. 

C  H  A  P.     VI. 

Of  the  great  impropriety  often  seen  in  the  appointment  oj 
servants  ;  and  the  sentiments  of  the  inhabitants  on  that 
subject. 

THERE  is  commonly,  in  every  fociety,  fome  radical 
principle  which  governs  and  modifies  the  rell,  and 
gives  a  tincture  to  all  the  meafures  that  are  carried  on, 
whatever  be  their  particular  fubjedt,  or  feeming  intention. 
In  the  cafe  before  us,  the  fundamental  error  appears  to 
have  been  the  power  of  nomination  which  was  given  to 


Corporatio?i  of  Servants,  239 

great  men.  The  confequence  of  this  was,  an  exceflive 
impropriety  in  the  appointment  of  fervants  to  different 
families.  If  a  poor  ordinary  family  wanted  a  houfliold 
fervant,  fometimes  a  lord  would  fend  them  a  foreign  cook 
out  of  his  own  kitchen.  This  fellow  would  fpeak  fuch 
minced  broken  language,  that  they  could  not  underfland 
him ;  and  the  meat  he  dreiTed  for  them  they  could  not 
endure  to  look  upon.  When  they  defired  him  to  provide 
plain  folid  food,  fuch  as  they  had  been  in  ufe  to  eat,  and 
in  fufficient  quantity  to  fill  their  bellies,  he  would  ferve 
them  up  a  courfe  of  flimfy  diflies,  finely  garnifhed,  but 
entirely  difguifed,  fo  that  the  poor  people  could  not  ima- 
gine what  they  contained.  If  at  any  time  they  made 
complaint  of  this,  he  triumphed  over  their  clownifh  igno- 
rance and  unrefined  tafte,  and  would  offer  to  prove  to  the 
fatisfattion  of  all  men  of  fenfe,  that  he  perfe6lly  under- 
ftood  his  art. 

In  innumerable  fuch  inftances  they  went  entirely  in  the 
face  of  common  fenfe,  in  the  choice  and  appointment  of 
fervants.  Sometimes,  if  a  family  wanted  a  plowm.an  or  a 
gardiner,  they  would  fend  them  a  huntfman,  or  a  running 
footman.  If  a  confiderable  merchant  wanted  a  book-keep- 
er, they  would  fend  him  a  flupid  ignorant  fellow  who  could 
neither  write  nor  read.  For  this  prepoflerous  condudl 
there  was  no  remedy.  The  great  men  counted  the  right 
of  nomination  as  a  precious  jewel,  which  no  confideration 
could  induce  them  to  part  with.  And  as  the  power  of  de- 
termination, in  all  difputed  cafes,  lay  in  courts  com po fed 
of  fervants,  theyftrenuoufly  fupported  the  moft  unreafan- 
able  appointments.  This  was  naturally  to  be  expected, 
becaufe  a  contrary  condu6l  would  have  been  a  filent  im- 
peachment of  many  of  themfelves,  as  unfit  for  their  pre- 
fent  llations. 

Befides,  it  happened  in  this  cafe,  as  I  obferved  had  hap- 
pened in  a  former  age,  many  loved  to  have  it  fo.  The 
people  of  better  rank,  and  thofe  who  would  be  thought  to 
be  of  better  rank,  by  an  unaccountable  fafcination,  not 
only  approved,  but  admired  thefe  meafures.  To  allow 
families,  they  faid,  to  choofe  fervants  for  themfelves,  would 
ine  SI  fource  of  endlefs  confufion,  but  that  the  prefent  wa> 


24®  ^^  History  of  a 

plainly  a  finrple,  rational,  uniform  and  peaceable  method 
of  proceeding.  It  was  a  common  and  a  fliihionable  topk 
of  converfation,  to  defpife  the  folly  and  impudence  of  the 
common  people,  who  had  always  a  ftrong  inclination  to 
choofe  their  own  fervants,  and  looked  with  a  very  evil  eye 
upon  thofe  who  were  thus  billeted  upon  them  againfl:  their 
Wills.  If  any  perfon,  in  a  company,  had  but  fignified 
that  he  thought  this  condu£l  inconfiflent  with  equity  or 
good  policy,  he  was  not  thought  fit  to  be  reafoned  with, 
but  a  great  and  loud  laugh  was  im.mediately  raifed  againfl 
him,  ib  that  he  was  not  only  put  to  filence,  but  to  confu- 
fion.  Nay,  there  were  not  wanting  many  who  affirmed, 
that  no  body  could  be  fincerely  of  that  opinion,  but  that  it 
was  only  pretended,  from  bafe  and  fmiller  views. 

I  muft  obferve  here,  that  when  my  informer  v/as  on 
this  part  of  the  fubjedt,  which  indeed  he  often  refumed, 
as  what  had  made  a  great  impreffion  upon  his  own  mind, 
3  could  not  help  again  difcovering  marks  of  aftonifliment. 
I  told  him,  I  very  well  knew  the  abfurdlties  of  which  the 
human  mind  is  capable,  yet  this  feemed  to  be  the  moft 
incredible  of  any  thing  that  I  had  ever  read  or  heard  of; 
that  it  fhonld  be  laughed  down  as  a  ridiculous  notion,  that 
families  ought  to  be  at  liberty  to  choofe  their  own  fervants. 
On  this  he  was  not  a  little  oflended,  and  fpeaking  with 
fome  acrimony,  fays,  '  It  v/as  to  gratify  your  curiofity, 

*  Sir,  that,  in  this  and  former  converfations,  I  have  given 
'  an  account  of  my  obfervations  in  foreign  countries.      If 

*  you  defire  to  hear  no  more,  I  fliall  be  wholly  filent ;  but 
'  give  me  leave  to  fay,  that  the  treatment  which  we  tra- 
'  vellers  meet  with  when  we  return  home,  is  at  once  un- 
'  reafonable  and  ungrateful.  If  we  tell  you  things  tliat 
'  are  common,  you  look  upon  them  as  infipid  and  trifling ; 
'  and,  if  we  tell  you  things  that  are  quite  new  and  furpri- 

*  fmg,  you  let  us  know  with  great  good  manners,  that  you 
'  do  not  believe  us.' 

Then  after  a  little  paufe,  '  Pray  Sir,'  fays  he, '  how  ma- 
'  ny  nations  are  there  in  Europe,  Afia  or  Africa,  who 
'  think  themfelves  at  liberty  to  choofe  their  own  prince, 
''  or  to  bring  him  to  an  account  for  oppreflion  or  bad  go- 
•■  vernment.'     Truly,  faid  I,  I  believe  not  above  five 


Corporation  of  Servants.  241 

or  fix.  *  Well  then,'  fays  he, '  if,  perhaps,  fifty  to  one  of 
'  mankind,  have  thought  it  a  fm  or  folly  for  them  to  choofe 
'  their  own  mailers,  is  it  modeft  in  you  to  fufpe6l  my  ve- 
'  racity,  when  I  tell  you  of  one  nation,  where  it  became 
'  faihionable  to  think  that  they  ought  not  to  choofe  their 

*  own  fervants.' 

'  But  to  come  a  little  clofer  to  the  point,'  fays  he, '  are 

'  you  not  a  member  of  the  fele6l  fociety  in  E h  ?' 

I  am,  and  glory  in  it  as  a  mod  honorable  diflindlion. 
'  Have  you  not  taken  agriculture  under  your  patronage  :' 
Undoubtedly  ;  and  by  what  means  can  we  better  promote 
the  interelt  of  the  public  ?  '  By  none,  I  admit.  But  fuf- 
*■  fer  me  to  proceed  with  my  interrogatories.     Have  you 

*  bought  any  land  with  the  profits  of  your  improvements  ?' 
Not  yet.  They  are  but  in  their  infancy,  and  have  cofl 
me  a  great  deal  of  expence.  '  Are  the  crops  of  impro- 
'  vers  generally  better  than  thofe  of  other  people  ?'  I  can- 
not fay  they  are.     '  You  ought,'  fays  he,  '  to  have  confef- 

*  fed  that  they  are  commonly  worfe  ;  for,  according  to  my 

*  obfervation,  the  mark  of  an  improver  is  not  to  have  a 
'  good  crop,  but  to  be  able  to  give  a  rational  and  philofo- 
'  phical  account  how  he  came  to  have  a  bad  one.  But 
'  have  you  not  alfo  encouraged  a  man  to  write  books,  and 

*  read  ledlures  upon  agriculture,  who  made  himfelf  a  beg- 

*  gar  by  putting  it  in  practice  ?'  Perhaps  it  may  be  fo,  but 
he  underfi:ood  the  theory.  '  How  came  you  to  believe 
'  that  he  underltood  the  theory  ?  Alas  !  alas !  fir,  abfur- 
'  dities  coming  into  fafliion  is  not  fo  rare  a  thing  at  home, 

*  as  to  entitle  you  to  doubt  the  truth  of  my  narrative, 
'  when  I  told  you  of  the  mifi:akes  and  delufions  of  a  cer- 

*  tain  people  abroad.' 

I  confefs  I  was  never  more  nettled  at  any  thing,  than 
at  this  unexpected  attack  upon  the  laudable  attempts 
among  us,  of  late,. to  improve  our  native  country.  To 
comparethem  with  the  monfirous  conduct  of  the  unpolifhed 
American  people  defcribed  in  this  book,  was  unfufFerable. 
I  could  not,  therefore,  let  the  m.atter  drop,  but  told  him, 
all  that  you  have  faid,  fir,  might  eafily  be  anfwcred  ;  how- 
ever, not  to  fpend  time  upon  it  at  prefent,  what  do  you 
think  of,  or  what  have  you  to  fay  againilthc  excellent  and 

Vol.  IIL  H  h' 


24^  The  History  of  a, 

rational  tra6s  \vliich  have  been  publiflied  by  private  gen- 
tlemen of  fortune  among  us,  upon  agriculture  ?  Do  they 
not  contain  the  cleareft  arithmetical  calculations,  of  the 
profit  to  arife  from  the  method  laid  down  ?  '  I  fay,'  an- 
iwered  he,  '  they  are  all  what  the  lawyers  call  felo  de  se^ 
and  totally  inadmiflible.'     Your  reafon,  pray.     '  My 
reafon  !  why,  truly,  I  have  more  reafons  than  one.     In 
the  firft  place,  they  always  put  me  in  mind  of  a  quack 
do6^or  wiih  his  cathol'icon.     They  have  but  one  remedy 
for  all  difeafes.     A  gentleman  happens  to  be  flruck  with 
fome  new  theoretical  principle,  and  immediately  falls  to 
work,  runs  down  every  thing  elfc,  and  applies  this  won- 
derful difcovery  to  all  purpofes,  all  foils,' and  all  feafons. 
You  know  v/hat  enthufialls  the  horfe  hoers  and  pulveri- 
fers  are.     Many  of  them  are  clearly  of  opinion,  that 
dung  is  prejudicial  to  ground,  as  ferving  only  ta  engen- 
der weeds.     I  was  once  quite  of  this  opinion  myfelf, 
and  found  no  other  difficulty  in  it,  than  how  gentlemen 
and  farmers  w^ould  get  quit  of  their  dung,  which,  not| 
being  returned  to  the  ground  in  the  way  of  manure^ 
mufl  foon  grow  up  to  an  enormous,  and  at  the  fame  time, 
mod  naufeous  and  offenfive  heap.     When  under  thefe' 
apprehenfions,  I  remember  to  have  projected  a  fchemei 
to  be  carried  on  by  fubfcription,  which  would  have  pro-i 
ved  an  effectual  remedy.     The  method  was,  to  have 
plans  taken  of  every  county,  in  which  the  level  fliould 
be  marked,  then  canals  to  be  carried  through  all  the  lowj 
grounds,  and  fmaller  dudls  drawn  from  every  gentlemari 
and  farmer's  houfe,  terminating  in  thefe  canals,  which,'j 
by  the  help  of  a  collection  of  rain  water  at  every  houfe,^^ 
would,  at  certain  feafons  of  the   year,  carry  away  the 
whole  dung,  and  at  lall  empty  it  into  the  fea.     The  ex- 
pence  of  this  fcheme   would,  indeed,  have  been  very 
confiderable  ;  but  the  great  advantages  to  be  reaped  from 
it,  1  apprehended,  would  foon  convince  every  body  of 
its  utility.     Now^,  however  ridiculous  fuch  a  fcheme 
may  be,  I  am  fully  convinced  it  v/ould  have  been  put  in 
pra6tice  in  a  certain  county,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the 
incorrigible  obllinacy  of  the  common  people.     I  am  alfo 
®f  opinion,  that  it  w^ould  have  fucceeded,  and  that  dung 


Corporation  of  Servants,  243 

*  would  have  been  wholly  baniflied  in  a  lliort  time.  This 

*  would  have  happened,  not  only  by  the  help  of  tlie  canals,- 
'  but  the  crops  would  have  been  fo  thin  and  fpiritual, 
'  that  the  cattle  who  fed  upon  them  would  have  palfed  very 
'  little  of  a  grofs  or  excremental  nature. 

*  I  fhall  not  trouble  you,  continued  he,  at   this  time, 

*  with  any  more  of  my   reafons    but   one.       It    feems 

*  highly  incredible  that,  if  the  new  fchemes  of  aoriculture 

*  were  fo  profitable  as  their  authors  give  out,  they  would 

*  be  fo  generous  as  to  difcover  them  gratis  to  the  public, 
'  and  even  prefs  the  faid  public  to  accept  of  them.  It  is 
'more  probable  they  would  keep  them  as  a  fecret  in  their 
'  own  famihes,  till  their  excellence  v/ere  difcovered  by 

*  their  vifible  efFe6ls.  I  know  a  manuf.i6luring  town, 
'  where,  if  any  man  falls  upon  a  method  of  working,  or  a 
'  fabrick  of  goods,  that  is  likely  to  bring  a  good  profit,  he 
'  is  fo  far  from  preffing  it  upon  his  neighbors,  that  he  ufes 
'  every  poflible  precaution  to.keep  it  to  himfell^  On  the 
'  other  hand,  his  neighbors  are  as  inquifitivo  as  he  is  fe- 
'  cret ;  and  commonly  both  difcover  and  imitate  it  in  a 
'  very  little  time.  There  is  a  difpoiition  in  mankind  to 
'  refill  what  is  forced  upon  them,  and  to  leave  no  method 
'  unelfayed  to  come  at  what  is  induilriouily  placed  out  of 
'  their  reach. 

'  I  would,  therefore,  humbly  recommend  it  to  all  im- 
'  pro  vers,  to  give  over  talking  upon  the  fubjedl,  and  to 

*  fall  heartily  about  putting  their  rules  in  praclice  ;  and,  I 
'  can  promife  them,  that,  if  they  be  fuccefsad,  it  will 
'  not  be  long  before  they  will  be  quite  common.  Or,  let 
'  every  perfon  v\^ho  difcovers  a  noftrum  in  agriculture,  ap^ 

*  ply  to  the  government  for  a  patent  that  no  body  may  be 
'  iuffered  to  ufe  it  except  himfeif,  and  thofe  who  fliall  pay 

*  him  fufliciently  for  the  ingenuity  of  his  invention.  1 
'  can  allure  you,  ftr,  that  if  I  had  faid  to  the  people  whom 
'  I  left  a  itw  years  ago,  that  I  knew  a  nation,  where  it 
'  v.'as  common  for  benevolent  perfons  to  point  out  to  diem 
'  plain,  eafy,  cheap  and  certain  methodsof  growing  rich, 
'  but  they  would  not  be  perfuaded  to  ufe  tliem,  I  v/oukl 
^^ihave  had  t'.ie  fame  compliment  paid  me,  which  you  v/ere 
^^pleafed  to  pay  me  fome  time  ago,  that  I  v/as  taking  the 

*  privilege  of  a  traveller.' 


•244  ^^^  History  of  a 

I  Ihall  not  trouble  the  reader  with  faying  how  far  I  was 
convinced  by  this  reafoning,  only  it  made  me  refolve  to 
be  entirely  filent,  as  to  any  further  particulars  I  Ihould 
learn  concerning  the  corporation  of  fervants,  how  ftrange 
and  unaccountable  foeverthey  might  be.  Having,  there- 
fore, brought  this  unavoidable  digreffion  to  a  clofe,  we 
proceed  with  the  hiftory. 


CHAP.       VII. 

Great  partiality  in  the  trial  of  Servants^  and  uncertainty 
in  the  characters  gi\)en  of  them, 

IF  the  reader  recolle£ls  what  was  faid  in  the  preceding 
chapter,  it  is  probable  he  will  be  furprifed,  that  the 
corporation,  with  the  powers  given  them,  did  not,  for 
their  own  credit,  look  better  into  the  qualifications  of  fer- 
vants.  Since  it  was  in  their  power  to  licenfe  them  or 
not,  it  may  be  fuppofed  they  would  take  efFeclual  care, 
that  no  infufficient  perfon  Ihould  be  admitted.  But  it  is 
to  be  obferved,  that  fo  foon  as  the  method  of  fixing  fer- 
vants,  upon  the  nomination  of  lords  or  great  men,  came 
to  be  again  in  ufe,  the  trial  of  their  fufliciency  turned  to  a 
mere  farce.  There  might  be  fome  degree  of  integrity 
found  in  one  court ;  but,  in  fuch  a  cafe,  the  candidate  had 
nothing  to  do  but  apply  to  another,  where  he  would  find, 
perhaps,  a  fet  ofrafcally  fellows  who  were  afhamed  of 
nothing.  To  what  a  degree  of  boldnefs  they  ventured  to 
proceed,  may  be  feen  from  the  following  account  of  what 
literally  happened. 

A  certain  court  was  going  upon  the  examination  of  a 
young  man,  who  defired  to  have  a  certificate  that  he  was 
fully  accomplifhed  as  a  fervant,  and  particularly  well 
fkilled  in  the  cultivation  of  land.  A  grave  and  ancient 
member  alked  him.  Pray,  fir,  what  is  the  belt  way  of 
plowing  hard  iliflP  land  ?  Am,  By  running  a  wheel-bor- 
row over  it.  The  examinator  was  highly  offended  with 
the  abfurdity  of  the  anfwer,  and  fliewed  plainly  in  his 
countenance  a  mixture  of  furprize  and  indignation.     But 


Corporation  ofSerixants.  .245 

another  member  of  conrt,  being  of  a  meek  and  gentle  tem- 
per, and  a  great  enemy  to  feverity,  thought  proper  to  in- 
terpofe.  He  fays  to  his  brother,  My  dear  fir,  the  young 
man  is  model!;  and  bafhful,  which  in  itfelf  is  a  mofl  amia- 
ble difpofition,  though  it  hinders  him  from  anfwering  ][o 
diilindlly,  as  were  to  be  wiflied.  Then,  turning  to  the 
candidate,  he  fays,  I  dare  fay,  fir,  you  know  well  enough, 
that  a  wheel-barrow  cannot  plough  land,  becaufe  it  v/iil  not 
enter  into  the  foil,  nor  open  it  fufficiently.  Mufc  not 
hard  ftiffiand  be  broken  and  pulverifed,  in  order  to  make 
it  fruitful  ?  A?2s.  Yes,  fir. 

Then  the  firft  refumed  his  examination.  Now,  pray 
fir.  Can  you  tell  me  how  deep  land  ought  to  be  ploughed 
when  it  is  well  done  ?  He,  though  quite  ignorant  of  the 
fubjedt,  being  naturally  a  man  of  mettle  and  acutenefs, 
imagined,  from  what  he  had  heard,  that  the  deeper  the 
better,  and  immediately  anfwered,  fix  yards.  On  this 
his  examinator  fell  into  a  violent  paflion,  and  faid.  How 
have  you  the  impudence,  fir,  to  afe  us  to  inilal  you  as  a 
ploughman,  when  you  know  nothing  of  the  matter  ?  Was 
there  ever  fuch  a  thing  heard  or  feen,  fince  the  beginning 
of  the  world,  as  ploughing  hnd  fix  yards  deep  ^.  or  what 
conception  could  you  have,  in  your  own  mind,  of  the 
pofFibility  of  the  thing  ?  You  ought  to  have  a  fentence 
pafled  againll  you,  wholly  incapacitating  yoii  for  any 
place  in  this  country. 

The  noble  and  generous  fpirit  of  the  candidate  was 
roufed  by  this  fevere  treatment ;  fo,  he  replied,  Pray  fir, 
do  you  imagine  that,  in  this  improved  age,  the  fcrvants 
of  the  eilabliflied  corporation  are  brought  up  to  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  the  feveral  branches  of  bufinefs,  for  which 
the  falaries  are  appointed  ?  For  my  own  particular  part, 
you  ought  not  to  be  furprifed  that  I  could  not  tell  you  how 
land  fhould  be  ploughed,  for  I  never  fav/  a  plough  in  my 
life.  How,  when,  where  and  by  whom  were  you  edu- 
cated then  ?  fays  the  other  in  amaze.  Aiis,  I  ferved  an 
apprenticefliip  in  a  toy  fliop.  Very  well,  fays  die  exami- 
nator, bleiled,  precious,  happy,  improved  times  !  I  have 
no  more  to  add,  I  give  up  the  examination  to  any  body 
that  pleafes. 


34^  The  History  of  a 

When  this  difcontented  zealot  had  dropt  the  difcourfe, 
fome  other  moderate  men  aflved  him  a  few  polite  and  fa- 
Ihionable  queftions,  fuch  as,  what  is  the  genteeleft  lining 
for  a  red  coat  ?  in  what  manner  fiiould  you  prelent  a  glafs 
of  wine  to  a  lord,  and  how  to  a  farmer  ?  whether  is  hunt- 
ing or  fifhing  the  pleafanteft  diverfion  ?  whether  Ihould 
the  fervants  or  the  children  of  a  family  have  the  befl  lodg* 
ing,  diet,  &c-  ?  After  a  few  minutes  had  been  fpent  in 
this  manner,  it  was  carried  by  a  great  majority  that  he 
had  anfwered  extremely  well,  and  was,  in  every  refpedl, 
a  moft  accompliflied  fervant. 

It  was  ufual  for  the  fervants  to  carry  certificates 
with  them,  from  the  inferior  courts  of  the  corporation, 
wherever  they  went ;  but  if  any  man  had  trulled  to  thefe 
certificates,  he  would  have  found  himfelf  miferably  mif- 
taken.  They  had  taken  up  a  principle,  that  a  man 
might  attefl:  any  thing  to  be  true,  which  he  did  not  know 
to  be  falie.  On  this  principle,  for  a  proper  confide  ration, 
a  vagrant  fellow,  of  whom  they  knew  little  or  nothing, 
would  eafily  obtain  a  certificate,  declaring  him  to  be  a 
com  pleat  fervant  for  every  branch  of  bufinefs,  and  in 
particular,  an  admirable  cook,  gardiner,  or  whatever  elfe 
he  himfelf  defired  to  be  fpecified.  If,  upon  trial,  he  was 
found  totally  deficient  in  any  of  the  branches  mentioned, 
and  complaint  was  made  to  the  court  who  certified  for 
him,  they  thought  they  were  fully  excufed  if  they  could 
fay  that,  upon  their  honor  they  knew  nothing  about  him, 
and  were  wholly  ignorant  whether  he  was  a  good  iervant 
or  a  bad.  On  all  fuch  occafions  they  ufed  to  launch  out 
in  praife  of  charity,  and  alledge,  that  every  man  had  a 
right  to^an other's  good  word,  as  far  as  it  would  go,  unlefs 
he  had  forfeited  it  by  fome  particular  and  known  mifde- 
tneanor. 


«)• 


Co  rf>oration  of  Servants.  ^4$ 


CHAP.       VIII. 


Seri)anls  of  different  characters,     A  sketch  of  the  good 
■     and  bad.     The  inveterate   hatred  of  the  bad  against 
the  good. 


OWEVER  general  the  corruption  was,  the  reader 
is  not  to  imagine  that  all  fervants  were  of  the  fame 
character,  or  behaved  in  the  fame  manner.  There  were 
IHll  fome,  here  and  there,  who  acled  in  a  manner  fuita- 
•Weto  their  ftation,  who  minded  their  bufmefs,  who  loved 
their  mafters,  and  were  beloved  by  them.  Thefe  made 
as  great  a  flrnggle  as  they  could  to  keep  matters  right  in 
the  meetings  of  the  corporation,  though,  commonly,  with 
very  indifferent  fuccefs.  The  oppofitc  principles  and  con- 
duct of  the  two  forts  may  be  learned  ifrom  the  following 
particulars. 

They  differed,  toto  coelo^  in  their  very  profefTion  and 
manner  of  fpeaking.  The  modern  fafhionable  party  af- 
firmed, thai  courage  and  felf-fufEciency  ought  to  be  the 
leading  character  of  a  fervant.  That  he  ought  always  to 
be  fpeaking  in  praifc  of  his  own  deeds.  That  he  ought 
never  to  allow  of  any  error  or  miftake  in  his  behavior; 
but,  on  the  contrary,  to  infift  that  he  defervedthe  higheft 
approbation.  Who  is  obliged,  faid  they,  to  fpeak  well 
of  a  man  who  fpeaks  ill  of  himfelf  ?  can  there  be  any  thing 
more  pufilanimous,  than  for  a  fervant  to  be  always  con- 
feffing  that  he  can  do  very  little  to  any  purpofe. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  honeiler  fort  of  fervants  decla- 
red, that  they  thought  pride  and  confidence  were  in  them- 
felves  hateful,  and  quite  intolerable  in  fervants.  That 
they  Ihould  not  make  high  pretenfions,  left  they  Qioukl 
be  brought  but  to  the  greater  fhame  ;  that  they  fhouid  ac- 
knowledge the  great  imperfeclion  of  every  thing  they  did, 
and  expecl  to  be  rewarded,  not  for  the  worth  or  value  of 
their  fervice,  but  from  the  goodnefs  and  indulgence  of 
their  mailers. 


1148  Tbe  lilstoiy  of  a 

It  was  curious  to  obferve  the  dilFerent  efFe6ls  of  thefd 
principles.  Thofe  who  fpoke  in  the  highell  terms  of  their 
own  qualifications,  were  always  the  moft  negligent  and 
the  moil  unfaithful.  They  grudged  every  thing  they  did, 
and  laid  hold  of  innumerable  pretences  for  fhortenirig 
their  hours  of  labor,  and  procuring  days  of  relaxation. 
If,  at  any  time,  one  of  them  had  done  a  piece  of  work 
in  a  tolerable  manner,  he  could  hardly  be  brought  to  do 
any  more  for  two  days  ;  but  was  wholly  taken  up  in  ad- 
miring his  own  ingenuity,  and  commending  it  to  all  who 
would  take  the  pains  to  liften  to  him.  On  the  contrary, 
the  humble  and  felf-denied  were  always  bufy,  applied 
themfelves  to  their  duty  with  the  utmofl:  care  and  aflidui- 
ty,  and  thought  they  could  never  do  enough.  They  ne- 
ver once  called  in  queflion  the  hours  of  labor,  but  conli- 
dered  the  neceffity  of  the  family,  or  the  importance  of  the 
work  they  were  engaged  in.  When  any  body  happened  to 
commend  one  of  them  for  his  diligence,  he  intreated  them 
to  forbear  fuch  difcourfe,  for  he  was  very  fenfible  he  had 
not  done  the  thoufandth  part  of  what  he  ought  to  have 
done. 

Men  came  to  be  [o  fenfible  of  the  different  efTe^ls  of 
thefe  principles,  that  almofl  every  family  earneflly  wifh- 
edtohave  fervantsof  die  felf-denying  character  and  per- 
fe6lly  hated  the  other.  If  they  entered  into  converfation 
with  an  unknown  fervant,  they  were  particularly  atten- 
tive to  the  ftrain  of  his  difcourfe,  and,  though  he  were 
upon  his  guard,  would  with  great  fagacity  penetrate  his 
fentiments.  But,  alas!  this  ferved very  little  purpofe ; 
for,  if  he  had  interell  to  procure  a  writ  of  nomination,  they 
were  obliged  to  receive  him,  and  then  being  fixed  in  the 
laddie,  he  made  a  full  difcovery  both  of  his  principles  and 
practice. 

Nothing  was  more  remarkable  than  the  rancorous  ha- 
tred which  the  felf-fufficient  bore  to  the  humble  fervants ; 
efpecially  fuch  as  fhowed  the  molt  remarkable  diligence 
in  their  work.  They  fpread  llanders  againft  them  with- 
out number.  They  ufed  to  go  about  with  indefatigable 
diligence,  among  the  great  men,  and  nominators  to  the 
eilabliihed  falaries,  to  exafperate  their  minds  againfl  them, 


Corporation  0/  Servants.  24^ 

and  prevent  their  fettlement  or  promotion.  They  re- 
prefented  them  as  a  fet  of  poor,  filly,  fneaking,  fpiritlefs 
fellows,  who,  for  no  other  end  than  to  throw  an  odium 
on  the  more  free  and  generous  livers,  would  work  longer 
than  ufual.  For  the  fame  reafon,  it  was  pretended,  that, 
when  the  reft  were  at  their  paftime,  running,  jumping, 
or  cudgel  playing,  then  to  be  fure,  thefe  hypocrites  would 
be  driving  a  ftake,  or  pruning  a  tree  about  a  farm,  or 
picking  weeds  from  a  garden  or  field  of  corn.  They  re- 
prefented  them,  alfo,  (which  was  indeed  partly  true)  as 
acquiring  a  ftiff  ruftic  air,  by  often  ftooping,  and  habitu- 
al application  to  their  work. 

Neither  were  they  wanting  in  executing  their  revenge 
againfl  their  enemies  themfelves,  whenever  an  opportu- 
nity offered.  If  two  or  three  of  the  loofer  fort  met,  by 
chance,  one  of  the  induftrious  in  a  folitary  place,  or  going 
of  an  errand,  they  cunningly  folicited  him  to  join  with 
them  in  fome  diverfion,  for  example,  blind-man's-buff, 
or  any  other.  If  he  complied,  they  all  confpired  againffc 
him,  and  drubbed  him  heartily  ;  and,  after  they  had  done 
fo,  one  was  immediately  difpatched  to  inform  again  ft 
him,  and  let  the  family  he  belonged  to  know  how  he  had 
been  fpending  his  time,  fo  that  he  was  no  better  than  his 
neighbors.  Whenever  they  difcovered  a  fervant  in  a  field 
after  the  ufual  time  of  laber,  they  would  get  behind  the 
hedge  sand  pelt  him  unmercifully  with  ftones,  fo  that  he 
returned  home,  not  only  fatigued  with  his  work,  but  fe- 
verely  fmarting  with  the  wounds  he  had  received. 

Such  was  not  only  the  condu6l  of  individuals,  but  the 
Very  fame  fpirit  prevailed  in  the  meetings  of  the  corpora- 
tion, from  the  loweft  to  the  higheft.  None  met  with  fo 
fevere  treatment  from  them  as  honeft  induftrious  fervants, 
who  were  beloved  in  the  families  where  they  w^re  placed  j 
neither  w^as  there  any  crime  fo  heinous  as  being  more  di- 
ligent than  the  generality  of  other  fervants.  If  any  fami- 
ly accufed  a  fervant  of  pilfering,  negligence,  drunken- 
nefs,  or  w^antonnefs  among  the  maids,  thefe  were  all  hu- 
man infirmities,  no  way  atrocious  in  their  nature.  They 
were  alfo  hard  to  be  afcertained  ;  fo  that  it  w^as  almoft  im- 
polfible  to  bring  a  proof  of  the  fa6f  s  to   the  fatisfa<tl:ion  of 

Vol.  III.  I  i 


350-  'The  History  of  a 

the  court.  But,  if  one  happened  to  be  accufed  of  doing 
any  uncommoa  fervice  to  the  family  at  their  defire,  or 
working  when  others  were  allowed  to  play,  this  wa-s  high 
treafon  again  the  conftitution  ;  and  he  was  condemned 
without  mercy,  and  fometimes  without  hearing. 

But,  of  all  the  crimes  of  this  foit,  the  mofl  unpardona- 
ble was  whatever  tended  to  impeach  the  wifdom,  or  weak- 
en the  authority  of  the  annual  meetings  of  the  corporati  - 
on.  When  an  inferior  court  was  ordered  to  introduce  a 
fervant  into  a  family  who  had  refufed  to  receive  him, 
fometimes  a  member  or  two  would  humbly  reprefent, 
that  the  terms  of  the  oath  appeared  to  them  abfurd  and 
profane,  in  that  inftance,  and  beg  to  be  excufed. — 
Whenever  this  happened,  they  were  dragged  as  dclin- 
qaentsto  the  bar,  rated  and  abufed,  flript  and  branded, 
declared  infamous,  and  incapable  even  of  repentance.  It 
was  many  times  affirmed  in  the  general  meeting,  that  no 
man  could  be  guilty  of  a  crime  which,  io  much  as,  ap- 
p'oached  in  guilt  to  that  of  clifparaging  the  authority  of 
tiie  corporation  of  fervants. 

I  mud  take  this  opportunity  of  acquainting  the  reader 
with  a  ftory  that  happened  a  few  years  before  my  inform- 
er left  the  country.  One  of  the  fervants,  who  was  a  great 
oppofer  of  the  prevailing  meafures,  finding  his  brethren 
to  be  deaf  to  ferious  reafoning,  fell  upon  a  fmgular  de- 
vice. Being  poffeft  of  a  vein  of  humor,  and  knowing  a 
little  of  the  art  of  painting,  he  drew  a  picture  of  the  droll 
or  ludicrous  kind,  in  which,  by  «=enigmatical  chara(^crs, 
he  reprefented  the  various  impofitions  of  the  fervants  in 
general.  He  alfo  took  off  the  likeneffes  of  the  principal 
and  mofl  a<5live  leaders  of  the  corporation,  and  put  them 
in  the  mod  comical  poftures  imaginable.  Here  was  to  be 
feen  a  fellow  capering  and  dancing  in  a  garden  all  full  of 
weeds,  and  his  inflruments  lying  befide  him,  quite  grown 
over  with  ruil. — Another  carrying  a  baflvet  over  his  arm, 
with  the  fign  of  a  pine  apple  in  his  hand,  and  a  pafTenger, 
on  examining  the  contents,  finds  nothing  but  ftinking 
£fh,  and  flops  his  nofe. — A  great  bloated  fellow,  fwelled 
like  a  tun,  challenging  the  whole  country  to  run  a  race 
with  him. — Another  hurrying  away  a  girl  into  a  corner. 


Corporation  of  Servants,  251 

and  covering  her  with  his  frock.— Thefe,  and  many 
others,  he  drew  in  fuch  a  manner,  as  clearly  to  ex  pole 
their  knavery  and  ofientation. 

This  pidliLire  was  flack  up,  in  the  night-time,  near  a 
public  road  leading  to  a  great  town.  As  the  perfons  vv^ere 
all  very  well  known,  it  is  not  to  be  imagined  what  en- 
tertainment it  afforded  to  the  people.  No  body  could 
■look  upon  it  without  laughing  :  and,  when  ever  any  of  the 
fervants,  honored  with  a  place  in  it,  were  feen  upon  the 
flreets,  the  boys  gathered  about  them  in  crowds,  and,  to 
their  unfpeakable  mortification,  miaiicked  the  podures 
in  which  they  had  been  reprefented.  Copies  in  miniature 
were  taken  of  this  performance,  and  kept  in  many  fa- 
milies ;  fo  that,  whenever  the  fervants  were  in  ill  humor, 
they  would  pull  out  the  draught,  and  hold  it  in  their  eye. 

The  fury  and  refentment  of  the  fervants,  on  the  pub- 
lication of  this  piece,  is  not  to  be  conceived.  The  au- 
thor had  done  it  with  fo  much  caution  and  fecrecy,  that 
they  could  not  get  him  legally  convid;ed.  However, 
they  either  difcovered,  or  at  leafl  thought  they  had  difco- 
vered  who  he  was,  and  employed  themfelves  night  and 
day,  in  devifmg  methods  of  revenge.  Above  all,  that 
unlucky  fellow,  who  had  been  reprefented  following  the 
girl,  was  fo  tranfported  with  rage,  that  he  fcarce  ever  re- 
turned to  his  right  fenfcs.  He  had  been  fomething  of  a 
A'draughtfman  himfelf,  fo  he  fct  about  making  a  pi61:ure  in 
ridicule  of  the  induflrious  fervants;  but,  either  tlie  thing 
itfelf  was  fo  difficult,  or  he  proceeded  v/ith  fb  much  rage 
and  trepidation,  that  it  was  a  perie6l  caricature,  and  his 
friends  prevailed  with  him  to  fupprcfs  it. 

The  poor  author,  in  the  mean  time,  was  obliged  to 
be  conflantly  >upon  his  guard,  as  there  was  always  a  fet 
of  defpe'radoes  lying  in  wait  for  him,  armed  with  clubs, 
and  fully  determined  to  beat  his  brains  out,  if  they  coukl 
catch  him  in  a  proper  place.  In  the  mean  time,  they  all 
agreed  in  telling  lies  upon  him  without  cQdXing,  They 
affirmed,  that  no  body  but  a  compleat  rafcal  could  be  ca.- 
pable  or  fuch  a  performance  ;  that  to  betray  fervants  to 
-their  mailers  v/as,  at  any  rate,  a  malicious  trick ;  but^ 
■^iiat  for  a  fervant  to  laugh  at  his  fellow  fervants^  ^PirJ  i^t 


25^  The  History  of  a 

other  people  a  laughing  at  them  too,  was  the  ckareft  de- 
monftration  of  a  depraved  heart.  It  was  ten  years  after 
the  fa(5L  was  committed,  that  my  informer  left  the  coun- 
try ;  and  he  declared  that  their  refentment  had  not  abated 
in  the  leall  degree  :  a  circumltance  which,  I  obfervcd, 
had  made  a  deep  impreffion  upon  his  mind ;  fo  that  he 
would  often  fay,  From  the  fury  of  an  enraged  fervant, 
good  Lord  deliver  me.  He  alfo  told  me,  that  he  was  con- 
vinced by  this  example,  that  wit  and  humor  was  a  talent 
unfpeakably  prejudicial  to  the  poireflbr ;  and  therefore,  if 
ever  he  had  a  child,  and  obferved  in  him  the  lead  turn  that 
w^ay,  he  would  apply  himfelf  with  the  utmolt  affiduity  to 
eradicate  it  as  a  vice. 

C     II     A     P.       IX. 

The  carelessness  of  Servants  in  their  work.     A  curious 
debate  in  a  certain  family^  which  issued  in  nothing, 

IT  will  be  eafily  perceived,  from  what  has  been  faid 
above,  that  the  greateft^part  of  the  fervants  were  ex- 
celfively  negligent.  They  feemed  to  have  two  great  ob- 
je6ls  conftantly  in  view,  and  to  carry  them  on  hand  in 
hand  ;  the  increafe  of  their  wages,  and  the  diminution 
of  their  labor.  The  truth  is,  however  ftrange  it  may  feem 
thefe  always  bore  an  exa6l  proportion  to  one  another. 
Whenever  a  fervant  got  more  wages  fettled  upon  him,  he 
ioo]^ed  upon  it  as  a  confequence,  that  he  Ihould  be  more 
flothful  than  before.  In  the  mean  time,  it  was  remarka- 
ble v/hat  ingenious  and  plaufible  reafonings  they  always 
fell  upon  to  juftify  their  conduct.  On  this  fubjed  parti, 
Gularly  they  would  fay,  What  is  well  done  is  foon  done, 
A  fmall  piece  of  work,  executed  as  it  ought  to  be,  is  bet- 
ter than  marring  a  great  deal,  which  is  worfe  than  idle- 
nefs. 

Inflead  of  any  other  general  remarks,  I  fhall  entertain 
the  reader  with  a  curious  example  of  their  ingenuity,  in 
devifing  excufes  for  their  own  negle6t.  This  happened 
in  the  famil}^  of  a  great  man,  about  three  years  after  the 
publication  of  the  senigmatical  picture,  and  plainly  fliowed 


Corporation  of  Serjeants,  253 

that)  though  the  reproof  had  enraged  them,  it  had  contri- 
buted nothing  to  reform  them.  One  morning,  almoft  the 
whole  fervants  of  this  family  were  gathered  together  in  a 
large  hall,  to  confider  what  work  it  would  be  proper  for 
them  to  fall  about  that  day.  A  fervant  who,  indeed,  was 
not  very  well  looked  upon,  as  inclining  a  little  to  the  fo- 
ber  indullrious  kind,  complained,  that  there  Irad  been  for 
a  long  time  an  intolerable  negligence  in  keeping  the  fen- 
ces, and  excluding  ftraying  or  ftrange  cattle  from  their 
mafters  grounds.  He  therefore  propofed,  that  they  iliould 
immediately  go  in  a  body,  drive  out  all  the  ftrange  cattle, 
without  exception,  that  were  in  the  inclofures,  and  mend 
up  the  fences,  which  were  now  in  fo  forry  a  condition. 
He  told  them,  that  there  were  many  ftrange  cattle  paf- 
turing  where  they  ought  not  to  be  ;  particularly,  that  he 
himfelf,  not  an  hour  before,  had  feen  a  large  bull,  with  a 
thick  neck,  and  dull  heavy  eyes,  but  broad  shoulders^ 
firm  joints^  and  a  lank  belly^  which  made  him  fit  for 
jumping.  On  this  a  difpute  arofe,  of  which  the  reader 
may  take  the  following  juft  and  faithful  account. 

One  obferved,  that  he  could  not  agree  to  the  motion, 
which  proceeded  from  a  perfon  no  way  remarkable  for  a 
good  temper.     '  If  our  brother  would  look  a  little  more  at 

*  home,  fays  he,  perhaps  he  would  find  lefs  reafon  for  thefe 
'  fnarling  complaints  of  the  negligence  of  others.  The  pro- 
'  pofal  is  unkind  and  unbenevolent.  There  ftiould  be  great 
'  forbearance  ufed  in  every  family  toward  their  neighbors. 

*  No  doubt  there  have  been,  and  there   will  be  trefpafTes 

*  upon  both  fides ;  and  therefore,  I  am  humbly  of  opinion 
'  that  no  notice  fliould  be  taken  of  it  at  all.' 

A  fecond  then  rifes  up,  and  fpeaks  to  the  followin^^  ef- 
fect. '  If  I  thought  that  any  good  would  follow  upon 
'  what  is   now  propofed,  1   ftiould  readily  agree  to  it.     I 

*  am  perhaps  as  much  attached  to  my  mafter's  intereft,  as 
'  the  perfon  who  made  this  motion,  notwithftanding  all  his 

4  '  fine  profeftions  ;  but  I  am  perfuaded  it  would  be  altoge- 

f-*  ther  in  vain.     There  is  a  ftrange  difpofition,  in  beafts  of 

^  f  all  kinds,  to  break  into  thofe  places  from  which  there  is 

^  any  attempt  to  keep  them  out ;  it  would  therefore  only 

^  increafe  the  evil  it  pretends  to  remedy-     All  perfecutipu 


254  ^<^  History  of  a 

we  know,  helps  the  caufe  of  the  perfecuted ;  fo  that,  fup- 
pofuig  one  has  made  an  encroachment  at  this  time,  if 
he  were  driven  oat,  we  may  depend  upon  it,  he  would 
immediately  return  with  twenty  more  at  his  heels.' 

A  third  made  a  very  fage  and  learned  obfervation. 
Take  notice,  fays  he,  what  you  are  about  to  do.  There 
is  more  difficulty  in  it  than  you  apprehend.  Is  there 
not  a  very  great  fimilarity  in  color,  fhape  and  fize,  be- 
tween our  mafter's  cattle,  and  his  neighbor's  ?  It  would 
oblige  us  to  a  very  Uriel  and  particular  examination,  be- 
fore we  could  determine  the  point.  This  would  create 
fuch  difference  of  opinion,  fuch  zeal  and  keennefs  in 
every  one  to  fupport  his  own  f^ntiments,  that  we  might 
fpend  the  whole  time  of  oar  fervice  before  we  could 
come  to  any  conclufion.  I  acknowledge  it  is  a  fixed 
principle,  that  every  bead  Ihould  be  kept  only  on  his 
own  mafter's  grounds  ;  but,  I  hope  you  will  fenfible,  it 
is  only  a  fpeculative  point  which  beaft  belongs  to  one 
mafter,  and  which  to  another.  On  this  fubjedt,  wife  and 
good  fervants  have  differed  in  all  ages,  and  will  differ  to 
the  end  of  the  world.' 

A  fourth  delivered  the  following  opinion.  '  I  cannot 
help  being  againft  the  motion,  for  a  reafon  that  no  body 
has  yet  taken  notice  of.  I  can  aflure  you  from  my 
certain  knowledge,  it  would  give  great  pleafure  to  the 
ftrange  cattle  themfelves,  and,  in  particular  to  the  bull, 
who  feems  to  have  given  occafion  to  the  prefent  debate. 
He  has  a  vaft  fatisfa<5lion  in  being  gazed  upon  and  won- 
dered at,  which  would  be  the  certain  confeqaence  of 
this  attempt.  Befides,  he  is  infedled  v/ith  an  inveterate 
itch,  which  gives  him  an  infinite  pleafare  in  being  dri- 
ven through  the  gaps  of  hedges,  and  being  fcrubbed 
and  clawed  by  the  thorns  in  the  paffage.' 

A  fifth  faid,  '  I  am  furprifed  to  fee  fo  much  time  fpent 
upon  this  ridiculous  propofal.  The  author  of  it  feemS 
to  have  forgot  a  fundamental  law  of  the  corporation,  that 
no  fcrvant  fhould  meddle  with  the  affairs  of  another  fa- 
mily, or  pretend  to  take  the  infpe6lion  or  government 
of  any  bsafts,  but  fuch  as  belong  to  his  own  mafter. 
Nov/,  fays  he,  this  is  manifeftly  the  cafe  in  the  prefent 


Corporation  of  Servants.  255 

*  inftance  ;  nay,  it  is  even  implied  in  the  propofal  itfelf, 

*  which  is,  therefore,  quite  irregular  and  incompetent.  If 
'  that  bull  does  not  belong  to  us,  let  his  own  mailer  fend 
'  for  him  when  he  pleafes :  we  have  nothing  to  do  with 
'  him.     Let  us  mind  our  own  affairs.' 

Then  rofe  a  fervant  of  ancient  Handing,  feveral  of  his 
teeth  having  been  lofl  by  old  age,  who  bore  a  particular 
mark  of  his  mailer's  favor.  He  was  remarkable  for  ma- 
king long  fpeeches^  of  which  it  was  difficult  to  compre- 
hend the  meaning.  After  fpeaking  about  half  an  hour,  quite 
unintelliffiblv,  he  concluded  thus.  '  Brethren,  I  do  not 
'  deny  that  fuch  a  propofal  as  this  might  have  done  very 
'well  in  former  times,  when  the  fences  were  almofl  en- 
'  tire,  and  the  offending  ftrangers  very  few ;  but,  at  pre- 
'  fent,  it  is  quite  romantic  and  impoffible.  Will  any  man 
'  ferioufly  pretend,  at  this  time  of  day,  when  the  hedges 
'  are  almoll  wholly  hvdkQ  down,  and  fo  many  encroach- 
'  ments  on  every  hand,  to  affirm,  that  none  ought  to  con- 

*  tinue  in  the  inclofures  but  fuch  as  truly  belong  to  our 
r  mailer.  I  am  afraid  his  iields  would  make  a  very  defo- 
'  late  appearance,  for  there  would  be  few  left  behind.' 

Lail  of  all,  one  tells  them  in  a  few  words,  that  the  de- 
bate was  altogether  idle  ;  that  there  was  a  mi  (lake  at  the 
very  bottom  of  the  affair  :  for,  by  the  beft  information  he 
could  procure,  the  beaft  inqueilion  was  not  a  bull  but  an 
ox. 

To  fum  up  the  matter,  one  or  other  of  thefe  various  and 
contradidlory  reafons  prevailed  upon  a  great  majority,  to 
come  to  this  refolution,  That  it  was  not  prudent  or  ex- 
pedient, at  this  time,  to  agree  to  the  propofal ;  and,  there- 
fore, the  intruders  in  general  ihould  be  winked  at,  and 
that  beail  in  particular,  whether  he  were  bull  or  ox,  fhould 
eontinue  where  he  was. 


256  The  History  of  a 


CHAR      X. 

Of  the  ambition  and  coiietoiisness  of  the  Servants^  and  the 
various  methods  they  fetl  upon  to  gratify  their  desires* 

I  HAVE  obferved  before,  that  the  conftitution  in  this 
province  was  framed  with  great  care,  and  feemed  par- 
ticularly calculated  to  prevent  ambition  and  love  of  pre- 
eminence. For  this  rcafon,  they  eftabliflied  a  parity  among 
the  fervants,  and  took  every  meafure  they  could  think  of, 
to  prevent  the  introduction  of  overfeers  and  arch-overfeers. 
By  this  time,  however,  the  fervants  had  not  only  degene- 
rated in  point  of  fidelity  and  diligence,  but  had  made 
great  encroachments  upon  the  conilitution  itfelf.  They 
had  a  prodigious  hankering  after  the  high-founding  titles, 
and  immenfe  revenues,  which  were  given  to  fervants  in 
the  neighboring  province.  It  grieved  them  to  hear,  and 
fometimes,  when  fent  upon  bufniefs  to  that  country,  to 
fee,  that  fome  of  the  overfeers  lived  in  fplendid  palaces, 
and  were  carried  about  in  chariots,  while  they  themfelves 
Avere  Hill  obliged  to  wear  the  drefs  of  fervants,  and  gene- 
rally to  walk  a-foot. 

Gladly  would  they  have  introduced  thefe  offices  in 
their  own  province ;  but  the  great  men,  who  had  hitherto 
afiifted  them,  dreaded  the  expence,  and  would  not  agree 
to  it.  They  were,  therefore,  obliged  to  proceed  cautioufly 
and  gradually.  In  fome  few  inllances,  they  made  it  ap- 
pear, that  one  fervant  might  be  introduced  to  two  differ- 
ent families,  and  enjoy  both  the  falaries.  As  to  the  work, 
they  might  be  fometimes  in  the  one,  and  fometimes  in 
the  other ;  or,  if  one  of  them  was  a  family  of  fmall  confe- 
quence,  they  might  do  well  enough  without  any  fervant 
at  all.  They  begged,  in  the  moil  abjed  manner,  of  the 
governor  of  the  province,  that  a  fmall  number  of  falaries 
miglit  be  appointed,  without  any  office  annexed  to  them, 
by  w^ay  of  gratuities,  for  the  encouragement  of  good  fer- 
vants. This  was  done  ;  and  there  followed  a  terrible 
con>petition  for  obtaining  them,  which  produced  a  mofc 


Corporation  oj  Sern^ants,  257 

unaHgnafit  hatred  between  thofe  who  were  fuccefsful  and 
thofe  who  were  not. 

The  reader  may  perhaps  imagine,  that  the  hope  of 
meriting  thefe  falaries  would  excite  them  to  vie  with  one 
another,  in  doing  :.the  bufmefs  of  the  famihes  where  they 
ferved.  It  was  quite  the  contrary.  They  tried  every 
method  of  advancement  but  that  only  ;  or,  if  any  did  try 
it  in  that  way,  they  were  fure  to  be  difappointed.  Some 
of  them  ufed  the  old  way  of  flattery,  which  had  always  a 
very  great  effedl.  Some  became  political  tools,  fpies, 
and  informers  to  the  prevailing  party  at  court.  Some 
were  not  afhamed  to  become  pimps  and  panders  to  great 
men,  and  even  fometimes  to  attend  them  in  their  no6lur- 
nal  expeditions.  Some  endeavored  to  make  themfclves 
remarkable  for  feats  and  achievements  quite  out  of  the 
way  of  their  own  bufmefs.  One  of  them,  for  example, 
would  make  a  windmill,  of  curious  ftru6lure,  and  put  it 
upon  the  top  of  the  houfe  where  he  lived.  The  confe- 
quence  of  this  was,  that  paffengers  going  that  v/ay,  after, 
flanding  flill  and  admiring  it  a  little,  would  a&  any  per- 
fon  they  faw  near,  who  had  done  it.  The  anhver  im- 
mediately followed,  l.he  servant  "who  Ihes  here^  he  is  a 
most  ingenious  fellonv^  as  ever  was  seen.  Thus  was  his 
fame  fpread  abroad,  and  fometimes  came  to  the  ears  of  the 
people  above. 

I  cannot  help  particularly  mentioning  one,  who  was 
the  moil  fuccefsful  of  all  that  had  gone  before  him,  who 
was  alive  when  my  informer  left  the  country,  and  pro^ 
bably  may  be  alive  at  this  very  time.  The  method  he  . 
fell  upon,  was  telling  wonderful  flories  of  the  heroic  ac- 
tions of  that  people's  predeceflbrs,  a  fubje^l:  of  which  jihey 
were  enthufiaftically  fond.  He  had  acquired  a  very  great 
knack  of  Itory-telling,  and  could  defcribe  things  fo  to 'the 
life,  both  by  word  and  geflure,  that  every  body  was  de- 
lighted to  hear  him.  He  immediately  gave  over  all  work  \^, 
in  the  family  to  v/hich  he  belonged  ;  and  when  they  civil- 
ly put  him  in  mind  of  his  negleft,  he  told  them  they 
might  go  about  their  bufmefs,  for  they  were  a  pack  of 
feditious  fcoundrch,  altogether  below  his  notice.  He  was 
a  fellov/  of  uncommon  ability  ;   and  no  lels  remarkable 

Vol,  HI.  K  k 


^5^  "Tkc  History  of  » 

for  enterprife  and  refolution.  He  carried  on  his  fchemes ; 
procured  for  himfelf  one  falary  after  another ;  and  did 
not  fail  to  laugh  at  the  fimplicity  of  thofe  who  bellowed 
them,  faying  among  his  intimate  companions,  He  blessed 
God  that  mankind  ivere  so  easily  deceived^  by  the  formal 
countenance  of  a  servant. 

The  fupernumerary  falaries,  however,  were  fo  few, 
that  they  Vv'ere  foon  exhaufted,  and  did  little  elfe,  indeed, 
than  excite  a  hungering  and  thirfting  after  more.  Ta 
remedy  this,  they  fell  upon  a  method  of  gratifying  the 
vanity  of  thofe  whofe  pockets  they  could  not  fill.  A 
title  was  invented,  which,  (like  the  honorary  re^vards  of 
the  ancients  in  this  part  of  the  world)  they  faid,  would 
ferve  to  dillinguifh  illuilrious  merit,  and  raife  a  happy 
emulation.  The  title  was,  Mafier  of  Service  ;  and  the 
directors  of  the  fchools  or  places  of  exercife  were  appoint- 
ed to  bellow  it,  according  to  the  fkill  and  proficiency  of 
the  candidates. .  Immediately  applications  came  in  from 
all  quarters,  and  it  was  dealt  about  very  liberally,  and,  if 
poffible,  even  more  abfurdly  than  the  falaries  had  been 
before.  There  was  hardly  an  inflance  of  its  being  be- 
llowed for  real  knowledge  or  ufeful  induilry ;  but  for 
fome  whimfical  qualification  of  a  different  kind.  If  a 
man  had  invented  a  new  dance  or  fong,  or  colle6led  a 
whole  barrel  of  falted  butterflies  in  one  fummer,  or  made 
a  gold  chain  for  binding  a  flea  to  a  poll,  he  waa  inilant- 
Iv  created  a  Mailer  of  Service. 


CHAP.      XL 

Of  the  sentiments  of  the  People  concerning  the  Seriianis^ 
and  their  manner  of  treating  them, 

THE  reader  may  probably  be  wondering  in  himfelf, 
how  the  people  behaved  in  thefe  circumfiances,  and 
what  became  of  their  affairs.  He  may  be  ready  to  think 
that  their  patience  mull  be  by  this  time  nearly  exhaulled, 
and  fome  terrible  revolution  at  hand.  The  truth  is,  the 
patience  of  many  of  them  had  been  at  an  end  for  many 


Corpxxration  of  Sewants,  25^ 

jears;  but,  being  divided  among  themfelves,  their  influ- 
ence was  not  fufficient  to  produce  a  general  change.  It 
is  impolTible  to  mention  all  the  effedls  which  the  conduft 
of  the  fervants  had  upon  the  peoi^le  ;  but  it  will  be  worth 
while  to  take  particular  notice  of  two  dalles  of  men,  and 
their  behaviour  upon  the  fubje^:. 

One  fet  of  people  rofe  among  them,  whofe  fentiments 
and  conduct  were  as  fingular  and  extraordinary,  as  any 
thing  recorded  in  this  book.  They  were  men  v/ho  made 
high  pretenfions  to  reafon  and  penetration,  and  gave  them- 
felves  much  to  abftraCt  reflections  upon  the  nature  of 
things.  They  were  of  opinion,  that  all  the  wifdom  of 
the  nation  centred  in  themfelves  ;  and  that  all  the  rert 
were  downright  fools  or  madmen.  However,  entering 
upon  their  fpeculations  with  fuch  an  overweening  conceit 
of  themfelves,  their  boafted  reafon  firft  led  them  into  ma- 
ny millakes,  and  at  lall  fairly  turned  their  heads. 

It  was  their  cultom  to  fearch  into  hillory,  and  particu- 
larly into  the  hiilory  of  the  fervants.     There  they  found, 
that  in  every  age,  there  had  been  a  great  deal  of  knavery 
among  the  fervants.     All  the  inftances  of  this  fort  they 
ufed  to  collect,  publifli,  and  compare  with  the  conduct  of 
the  fervants   in  their  own  times  ;   which  they   expofed 
with  the  greatefl  feverity.   At  laft,  by  long  dwelling  upon 
this  fubjedl,  they  came  to  be  of  opinion,  that  there  ought 
to  be  no  fuch  thing  in  nature  as  a  fervant ;   that  they 
never  had  done  any  thing  but  harm  ;  and  that  tlie  world 
would  be  much  better  without  them.     Sometimes  fober- 
minded  people  attempted  to  fet  them  to  rights,   and  al- 
ledged,  that  though  the  diflionell  had  always  been  too 
immerous  as  well  as  noify,  yet  ftill  there  were  fome  of 
great  worth  and  ufefulnefs ;  nay,  that  fociety,  in  the  nature 
of  things  could  not  fubfift  without  perfonc  in  lower  11a- 
tions,  to  ferve  and  accommodate  thofe  in  higher.     This 
was  fo  far  from  having  an  efFedl  upon  them,  that  they 
became  always  more  pofitive  upon    contradiQion,  and 
fcarce  ever  failed  to  advance  opinions  (HU  more  wild  and 
romantic  than  before.     Inftead  of  yiekling  that  fervants 
were  necelTary  in  fociety,  they  affirmed,  that  it  v/as  not 
only  defu'able,  but  extremely  poffible^  to  have  a  v.ho^e 


26o  The  history  of  a 

nation  of  lords,  without  one  perfon  among  them  of  infe- 
rior degree. 

They  affirmed,  that  excepting  fervants,  all  other  men 
were  by  nature  wife,  honeil,  and  a6live ;  fully  fufficient 
for  their  own  happinefs ;  and  that  they  would  have  been 
quite  virtuous  and  happy,  without  any  exception,  if  they 
had  not  been  blind-folded  and  deceived  by  the  fervants. 
To  this  race,  whom  they  ufed  often  in  a  fit  of  raving,  to 
curfe  in  a  moft  dreadful  manner,  they  imputed  all  the 
envy,  malice,  oppreffion,  covetoufnefs,  fraud,  rapine,  and 
bloodfhed  that  ever  had  happened  fmce  the  beginning  of 
the  world.  In  fupport  of  their  fcheme,  they  made  learn- 
ed difquifitions  on  nature,  and  the  firlt  caufe  of  all  things. 
They  flriewed  that  nature  was,  and  mud  be  wife  and  good 
in  all  her  produ6tions ;  and,  therefore,  that  man  mufl 
needs  be  free  from  every  thing  that  is  evil,  and  his  ori- 
ginal conftitution  perfectly  jufl  and  found*  All  the  difor- 
ders  that  were  to  be  feen  in  fociety  were  eafily  accounted 
for,  from  the  hellifli  machinations  of  the  fervants. — 
In  the  mean  time,  it  was  obvious,  that  the  fervants  were 
the  produQ  of  nature  too ;  and  according  to  the  fame 
reafoning,  mufi:  have  been  of  as  gentle  and  tra6\able  dif- 
poiitions,  and  in  all  refpedls  as  faultlefs  as  their  mailers. 
This  manifell  difficulty  in  their  own  fcheme,  however 
unaccountable  it  may  appear,  they  never  once  refle6led 
upon,  nor  by  confequence  attempted  to  refolve. 

Sometimes  they  were  preffed  with  the  neceffity  of  fer- 
vants to  cultivate  the  ground,  which,  if  neglected,  it  v/as 
plain,  would  grow  over  with  briers  and  thorns,  and  every 
noxious  weed.  Here  they  immediately  recurred  to  their 
old  argum.ent,  the  excellency  of  nature's  productions  ; 
and  upon  the  Itrength  of  it,  prefumed  abfolutely  to  deny 
the  fa6t.  They  faid,  were  the  earth  only  left  to  it^ 
felf,  it  would  produce  nothing  but  what  was  ufeful  and 
falutary,  and  that  in  great  abundance,  for  the  fupport  of 
its  inhabitants  ;  that  all  the  pretended  cultivation  of  it  by 
the  fervants  was  but  fpoiling  it ;  and  that  they  themfelves 
had  fowed  the  feeds  of  every  hurtful  or  unneceifary  plant. 
It  was  to  no  purpofe  to  mention  to  them,  either  the  valt 
tra<n:s  of  uncultivated  ground,  or  the  defolate  condition  of 


Corporation  of  Servafits.  261 

a  negleded  field ;  all  this,  they  pretended,  arofe  from  a 
certain  fympathy  in  the  feveral  parts  of  the  earth  one  with 
another,  and  from  poifonous  vapours  eafily  carried  by  the 
wind,  from  the  places  where  fervants  had  been  at  v/ork. 
In  ihort,  they  fometimes  projected  a  fcheme  for  a  new 
fettlement  where  no  fervants  fhould  be  admitted ;  and 
where  they  hoped,  in  a  little  time,  every  man  would  be 
as  wife  as  a  philofopher,  as  rich  as  a  merchant,  and  as 
magnificent  as  a  king. 

After  all,  the  perfection  of  their  abfurdity  appeared  in 
the  following  circumfiance.  Though  it  was  plain,  to  any 
perfon  of  reflection,  that  their  delirium  took  its  rife  from 
the'tricks  and  milbehavior  of  bad  fervants,  yet  they  had 
the  mod  rooted  and  inveterate  antipathy  atthoie  that  were 
good.  The  reafon,  probably  was,  that  the  diligence  and 
ufefulnefs  of  this  laft  fort  flood  dire6lly  in  the  way  of  their 
fcheme,  and  prevented  the  reft  of  the  nation  from  being 
of  their  opinion.  All  feemingly  good  fervants  they  af- 
firmed to  be  at  bottom  arrant  knaves  ;  and  in  one  refpe(ft, 
unfpeakably  worfe  than  any  of  the  reil,  becaufe  they  ap- 
peared to  be  better.  The  idle,  llothful,  worthlefs  fer- 
vants, were  frequently  their  companions ;  and  it  was  one 
of  their  higheft  entertainments  to  lead  fuch  fellows  into 
frolicks,  mifehief,  or  debauchery,  and  then  point  them 
out  to  their  fellow  citizens,  and  ufe  words  to  this  purpofe, 
'  You  poor  hood-winked  fools,  do  you  fee  thefe  rafcals  ? 
'  why  will  3^ou  any  longer  harbor  them  in  your  houfes  ? 
'  they  are  all  of  one  complexion,  and  will  infallibly  bring 
*  you  to  mifery  and  fpeedy  deftrudion.' 


CHAP.       XII. 

Continuation  of  the  same  subject.  The  sentiments  and 
conduct  of  others^  i?i  consequence  of  the  behavior  of  the 
Se)  'cants. 

T"'^TEarenot  to  fuppole   that  the  Vv' hole  nation  loft 

VV     ^^^^'^^  lenfes.     No:   by   far  the    greater  number 

^vfced  as  prudently  and  rationally  as  men  could  do  in  their 


a62  ThcWstory  of  a 

circumflances.  According  to  plain  common  fenfc,  in 
proportion  as  corruption  and  degeneracy  increafed  among 
the  fervants,  they  fet  the  higher  value  on  fuch  as  were 
honeft  and  faithful.  They  ufed  eveiy  mean  in  their  pow- 
er to  procure  fuch  for  their  own  families,  agreeably  to  the 
laws  of  the  corporation.  When  this  could  not  be  brought 
about,  or  when  a  good-for-nothing-fellow  was  buckled  to 
the  falary,  they  put  themfclves  to  the  additional  expence 
of  hiring  one  according  to  their  own  mind  ;  paid  the  for- 
mer his  wages  duly,  and  only  defired  the  favor  of  him  to 
give  them  no  trouble,  but  fpend  his  time  according  to  his 
own  fancy.  .?! 

It  was  pleafant  enough  to  obferve  the  different  condu6l 
of  the  eltablifhed  fervants,  according  to  their  different 
tempers,  when  they  fell  under  this  predicament.  Some 
of  them  were  greatly  enraged  to  fee  the  fervice  of  another 
preferred  to  theirs,  ufed  many  artful  methods  to  prevent 
it  where  they  could,  and  took  every  opportunity  of  vent- 
ing their  malice,  or  glutting  their  revenge  when  they  could 
not.  Where  they  could  get  any  body  to  believe  them, 
they  afierted  that  all  ll^ill  and  power  of  doing  good  was 
confined  to  the  corporation  ;  that  it  was  inherent  in  them, 
and  defcended  in  their  blood  from  one  generation  to  ano- 
ther, like  courage  in  the  race  of  game  cocks.  The  others, 
they  pretended,  were  a  fpurious  brood,  and  that  it  was 
impoflible  to  train  them  fo  as  to  make  them  fit  for  fer- 
vice. 

If  this  did  not  gain  credit,  all  poffible  pains  were  taken 
to  difparage  the  condu(5l  of  the  additional  fervants.  Their 
work  was  examined  with  the  greateH  llridlnefs,  every 
flaw  in  it  pointed  out,  and  many  faults  imputed  to  it 
merely  through  envy.  If  any  piece  of  work  appeared  to 
be  fulDllantial,  they  pretended  it  wanted  neatnefs,  and 
was  altogether  inelegant.  This  charge,  however,  made 
little  impreflion  upon  the  people.  They  had  been  {o  long 
plagued  with  fervants  who  minded  nothing  but  ornament, 
both  in  tlieir  perfons  and  their  work,  that  they  were  ra- 
ther pleafed  than  difgufled  with  one  of  a  more  homely  car- 
Tiap:c. 


Corporation  of  Servants.  26 j 

When  nothing  elfe  would  do,  the  grofleft  lies  and  ca- 
lumnies were  ipread,  both  of  the  new  fervants  and  thofe 
who  employed  them.  It  was  pretended,  that  they  fowed 
the  feeds  of  fedition  and  difafle(5lion,  in  the  families  where 
they  got  admittance.  Sometimes  this  accufation,  though 
utterly  groundlefs,  obtained  fuch  credit  with  the  governors, 
that,  if  they  had  a  complaint  to  make,  or  a  caufe  to  try, 
they  could  fcarcely  expert  juftice.  It  was  alfo  alledged, 
that  they  terrified  the  children  out  of  their  wits,  by  telling 
frightful  ftories  in  the  winter  evenings.  You  might 
meet  with  many  of  the  eftabliflied  fervants  who  aflerted, 
and  even  feemed  to  believe,  that  all  who  employed  any 
other  than  themfelves,  were  idiots  or  crack-brained,  and 
dellitute  of  common  {Qn.{t, 

On  the  other  hand,  not  a  few  of  the  eflabliflied  fervants 
were  altogether  indifferent  how  many  others  were  hired, 
and  how  little  work  was  left  to  themfelves.  They  knew 
that  their  wages  were  well  fecuredto  them,  which  was  the 
main  chance  ;  and  they  found  rather  more  time  and  liber- 
ty to  follow  the  bent  of  their  inclinations.  Perhaps  they 
would  have  been  better  fatisfied  if  the  people  had  been 
content  with  what  kind  and  quality  of  work  they  thought 
proper  to  do.  But,  as  this  was  not  to  be  expelled,  the 
hiring  of  others  rendered  all  matters  perfe(5lly  eafy,  and 
their  lives  were  one  continued  fcene  of  indolence  or  plea- 
fure. 

In  the  mean  time,  it  was  highly  diverting  to  hear  how 
they  exprefled  themfelves  upon  this  fubjei5l,  and  with 
how  much  art  and  cunning  they  made  a  virtue  of  neceility. 
They  ufed  to  extol  their  own  candor  and  benevolence, 

*  Gentlemen,*  one  of  them  would  fay, '  you  fee  with  what 

*  difcretion  I  ufe  you.     I  am  always  glad  to  fee  liberty 

*  prevail,  and  every  man  fuffered  to  do  what  feems  pro- 
'  per  to  himfelf.  I  am  well  plgafed,  that  you  ihould  hire 
'  as  many  fervants  as  you  incline.     I  afk  no  more,  than 

*  that  I  may  have  a  clean  neat  bed-chamber,  in  a  conve- 

*  nient  part  of  the  houfe,  n^y  wages  well  and  regularly 
'  paid,  and  a  fmall  bit  of  ground  in  the  garden,  to  bring 

*  up  a  few  dehcious  herbs  and  fruits  for  my  own  ufe.  If 
'  thefe  things  are  properly  attended  to,  you  Ihali  find  me 


264  T^he  History  of  a 

'  a  good  man  to  live  with  ;   I  fhall  never  interfere  with 

*  your  work  in  the  leaft,  or  give  you  any  manner  of  trou- 

*  ble,  even  by  making  remarks  upon  it.'  In  fuch  a  cafe, 
it  would  happen  now  and  then,  that  one  of  the  family, 
touched  a  little  with  the  abfiirdity  of  this  phlegmatick 
fpeech,  would  anfwer, '  That  very  well  he  might  make 

*  himfelf  eafy,  fmce,  all  the  while,  he  was  well  fed  and 

*  clothed  at  their  expence.'  This  he  would  receive  with 
filent  contempt,  anddifplay  the  greateft  fatisfadion  in  his 
own  compofure  of  fpirit,  and  nieeknefs  of  temper. 

As  for  the  remaining  part  of  the  nation,  they  reflected 
very  little  upon  their  condition,  but  took  fuch  fervants  as 
were  fent  to  them,  and  rubbed  on  as  well  as  they  could. 
Such  quiet  and  paflive  people  were  highly  extolled  by 
the  fervants,  who  took  all  opportunities  of  declaring,  that 
they  WTre  the  only  Iblid  and  rational  perfons  in  the  whole 
kingdom.  Thefe  praifes  delighted  them  greatly  ;  fo  that 
they  lived  as  poor  and  as  merry  as  beggars,  who  have  no.-- 
thing  to  hope,  and  nothing  to  fear. 


CONCLUSION. 


TIUS  I  have  given  the  reader  an  account  of  this  ex- 
^  traordinary  clafs  of  men ;  and,  I  am  certain,  he 
mull  confefs,  there  is  fomething  in  their  characters  and 
condud,  proper  to  excite  a  mixture  of  laughter  and  in- 
dignation. It  is  alfo  probable,  that  he  feels  a  confidera- 
ble  degree  of  fympathy  with  the  deluded  and  opprefTed 
people,  and  is  anxious  to  know  whether  there  appeared 
any  profpecl:  of  deliverance.  This  was  a  queilion  \  often 
.fiilvcd  at  my  informer,  who  aifurcd  me  that,  from  what  he 
had  heard  and  feen,  there  was  not  the  moil  diilant  prof- 
pe6t  of  refornration  by  the  fervants  themfelves.  The 
honefter  fort  were  always  borne  down,  traduced  and  flan- 
d^red ;  and  thofe  of  an  oppofite  charaifler,  had  fo  long 


Co-poratlon  of  Seroants.  265 

kept  the  management  of  the  corporation  in  their  hands, 
that  they  reckoned  themfelves  fecure  in  their  authority, 
and  openly  fet  at  defiance  both  the  people  in  general, 
and  their  fellow  fervants. 

There  remained  jufl  a  glimpfe  of  hope  from  one  quar- 
ter, viz.  the  gentlemen  who  had  been  chofen  to  the 
office  of  helpers.  They  had  at  firft  contributed  as  much 
as  any  to  the  introduction  of  wrong  meafures  ;  but,  not 
being  under  the  temptation  of  intereil,  they  be?2;an  to  open 
their  eyes  at  lall.  For  fome  years  they  had  been  a  con- 
fiderable  reftraint  upon  the  violence  of  the  fervants,  and 
had  prevented  theni  in  feveral  inilanccs  from  degrading, 
itripping,  and  branding  thofe  who  had  incurred  their  dif- 
pleafure,  by  doing  bufinefs  at  unfeafonable  hours.  They 
had  alfo  contributed  to  the  difgrace  and  difmiilion  of  fome 
drunken  fots,  and  lafcivious  wretches,  whom  feveral  of 
the  leading  fervants  had  a  Ilrong  inclination  to  fpare. 
From  thefe  circumllances,  fome  flattered  themfelves  that 
a  change  might  be  brought  about ;  and  that,  though  the 
fervants  would  never  think  of  any  reformation  themfelves, 
it  would  foon  ht  forced  upon  them  by  a  foreign  band. 

After  all,  it  was  but  very  uncertain  whether  any  mate- 
rial change  would  foon  take  place ;  and  therefore,  while 
we  can  only  fend  that  unhappy  people  our  good  wiflies, 
we  have  reafon  to  rejoice  in  our  own  good  fortune,  that 
we  are  perfedUy  free  from  impofitions  of  the  fame  or  any 
fimilar  kind. 


Vol.  III.  L  1 


LECTURES 


O  N 


MORAL 


PHILOSOPHY. 


t\ 


IN  JUSTICE  to  the  memory  of  Dr,  PTitherspoon, 
it  ought  to  be  stated  that  he  did  not  intend  these  lectures  for 
the  press,  and  that  he  once  compelled  a  printer  %vho,  njoith^ 
out  his  knowledge.,  had  undertaken  to  publish  them  ^  to  desist 
from  the  design .  by  threatning  a  prosecution  as  the  conse- 
quence of  persisting  in  it.  The  Doctor^  s  lectures  on  morals^ 
not%\)iths  landing  they  assume  the  form  of regidar  discourses^ 
%vere  in  fact,  mewed  by  himself  as  littUmorethana  syllabus 
or  compend,  on  which  he  might  enlarge  before  a  class  at 
the  times  of  recitation  ;  and  not  intending  that  they  should 
go  further,  or  be  otherwise  considered,  he  took  freely 
and  W)ithout  acknowledgment  from  ^writers  of  character 
such  ideas,  and  perhaps  expressions,  as  he  found  suited  to 
his  purpose.  But  though  these  causes  nvould  not  permit 
the  Dr,  himself  to  give  to  the  public  these  sketches  of 
moral  philosophy,  it  is  belie'ved  that  they  ought  not  to  operate 
so  powerfully  on  those  into  whose  hands  his  papers  ha'ue 
fallen  since  his  deaih.  Many  of  his  pupils  whose  eminence 
in  literature  and  distiitction  in  society  give  w^eight  to  their 
opinions,  ha've  thought  that  these  lectures,  with  all  their 
imperjections,  contain  one  of  the  best  and  most  perspicuous 
exhibitions  of  the  radical  principles  of  the  science  on  which 
they  treat  that  has  ever  been  made,  and  they  have  very  im- 
portunately demanded  their  publication  in  this  edition  of 
his  works  :  Nor  is  it  conceived  that  a  compliance  voith  this 
demand,  after  the  explanation  here  given  can  do  any  injury 
to  the  Dfs.  reputation.  And  to  the  writer  of  this  note  it 
does  not  seem  a  sufficient  reason  that  a  very  valuable  voork 
should  be  consigned  to  oblivion,  because  it  is  in  some  mea- 
sure incomplete,  or  because  it  is  partly  a  selection  from  au- 
thors to  whom  a  distinct  reference  cannot  novo  be  made. 


C   269   ] 


«oo9  0000  0000  0000  ccoo  0000  00!^  cooo  eooo  rooo  0000  oeeo  oo«o  00  p  :>coi  ooao  ccoo  ocoo  eooo  cooo  eoeo  0000  0000  ceoo  qso> 
eooo  ocoo  OQOJ  0000  0000  0000  oooQ  oceo  icoo  £ooo  cooo  0000  oooj  cooo  cooo  c«oa  0000  COOT  sooo  0000  0000  oo«o  0000  0000  ooo« 


LECTURES 


O  N 


MORAL     PHILOSOPHY. 


ORAL  Philofophy  is  that  branch  of  Science  which 
__  treats  of  the  principles  and  laws  of  Duty  or  Mo- 
rals. It  is  called  Philosophy,  becaufe  it  is  an  inquiry  into 
the  nature  and  grounds  of  moral  obligation  by  reafon,  as 
dillind  from  revelation. 

Hence  arifes  a  queftion,  is  it  lawful,  and  is  it  fafe  or 
ufeful  to  feparate  moral  philofophy  from  religion  ?  It 
will  be  faid,  it  is  either  the  fame  or  different  from  reveal- 
ed truth  ;  if  the  fame,  unneceflary — if  different,  falfe  and 
dangerous. 

An  author  of  New-England,  fays,  moral  philofophy  is 
jull  reducing  infidelity  to  a  fyflem.  But  however  fpecious 
the  obje6lions,  they  will  be  found  at  bottom  not  folid. — 
If  the  Scripture  is  true,  the  difcoveries  of  reafon  cannot 
be  contrary  to  it ;  and  therefore,  it  has  nothing  to  fear 
from  that  quarter.  And  as  we  are  certain  it  can  do  no  evil, 
fo  there  is  a  probability  that  it  may  do  much  good.  There 
may  be  an  illufiration  and  confirmation  of  the  infpired 
writings,  from  reafon  and  obfervation,  which  will  greatly 
add  to  their  beautv  and  force. 

The  noble  and  eminent  improvements  in  natural  phi- 
lofophy, which  have  been  made  fince  the  end  of  the  laft 
century,  have  been  far  from  hurting  the  interefl:  of  reli- 
gion ;  on  the  contrary,  they  have  greatly  promoted  it- 
Why  fhould  it  not  be  ihe  fame  with  moral   philofophy . 


270  Lectures  on 

which  is  indeed  nothing  clfe  but  the  knowledge  of  human 
nature  ?     It  is  true,  that  infidels  do  commonly  proceed 
upon  pretended  principles  of  reafon.  But  as  it  is  impofli- 
ble  to  hinder  them  from  reafoning  on  this  fubje61:,  the 
beft  way  is  to  meet  them  upon  their  own  ground,  and  to 
fhow  from  reafon  itfelf,  the  fallacy  of  their  principles.     I 
do  not  know  any  thing  that  ferves  more  for  the  fupport  of 
religion  than  to  fee   from  the  different  and  oppofite    {y^- 
tems  of  philofophers,  that  there  is  nothing  certain  in 
their   fchemes,  but  what  is  coincident  with   the  word  of 
God. 

Some  there  are,  and  perhaps  more  in  the  prefent  than 
any  former  age,  who  deny  the  law  of  nature,  and  fay,  that 
all  fuch  fentiments  as  have  been  ufually  afcribed  to  the 
law  of  nature,  are  from  revelation  and  tradition. 

Vv^e  mull  didinguifh  here  between  the  light  of  nature 
and  the  law  of  nature :  by  the  firft  is  to  be  underftood 
what  we  can  or  do  difcover  by  our  own  powers,  without 
revelation  or  tradition  :  by  the  fecond,  that  which,  when 
difcovered,  can  be  made  appear  to  be  agreeable  to  reafon 
and  nature. 

There  have  been  fome  very  flirewd  and  able  writers 
of  late,  viz.  Dr.  Willfon,  of  New  Caftle,  and  Mr.  Ric- 
calton  of  Scotland,  who  have  written  againll  the  light  of 
nature,  fhewing  that  the  firft  principles  of  knowledge 
are  taken  from  information.  That  nothing  can  be  fuppo- 
fed  more  rude  and  ignorant,  than  man  without  inftruc- 
tion.  That  when  men  have  been  brought  up  fo,  they 
have  fcarcely  been  fuperior  to  brutes.  It  is  very  difficult 
to  be  precife  upon  this  fubjedl,  and  to  diftinguifh  the  dif- 
coveries  of  reafon  from  the  exercife  of  it.  Yet  I  think, 
admitting  all,  or  the  greateft  part,  of  what  fuch  contend  for, 
we  may,  notwithltanding,  confider  how  far  any  thing  is 
confonant  to  reafon,  or  may  be  proven  by  reafon  ;  though 
perhaps  reafon,  if  left  to  itfelf,  would  never  have  difco- 
vered it. 

Dr.  Clark  was  one  of  the  greateft  champions  for  the 
law  of  nature  ;  but  it  is  only  fmce  his  time  that  the  fhrewd 
oppofers  of  it  have  appeared.  The  Hutchinfonians  [^o 
called  from  Hutchinfon  of  England)  infift   that  not  only 


Moral  Philosophy,  271 

all  moral,  but  alfo  all  natural  knowledge  comes  from 
revelation,  the  true  fyilem  of  the  world,  true  chronology, 
all  human  arts,  &c.  In  this,  as  is  ufual  with  moll 
other  clalTes  of  men,  they  carry  their  nollrum  to  extra- 
vagance. I  am  of  opinion,  that  the  whole  Scripture 
is  perfeftly  agreeable  to  found  philofophy  ;  yet  certainly 
it  was  never  intended  to  teach  us  every  thing.  The  poli- 
tical law  of  the  Jews  contains  many  noble  principles  of 
equity,  and  excellent  examples  to  future  lawgivers;  yet 
it  was  fo  local  and  peculiar,  that  certainly  it  was  never 
intended  to  be  immutable  and  univerfal. 

It  would  be  more  jufl  and  ufeful  to  fay  that  all  fimple 
and  original  difcoveries  have  been  the  prod U(!lion  ot  Pro- 
vidence, and  not  the  invention  of  man.  On  the  v/hole, 
it  feems  reafonable  to  make  moral  philofophy,  in  the  fenfe 
above  explained,  a  fubjeft  of  fludy.  And  iixleed  let 
men  think  what  they  will  of  it,  they  ought  to  acquaint 
themfelves  with  it.  Tliey  mufl:  know  what  it  is,  if  they 
mean  ever  to  Ihow  that  it  is  falfe. 

The  Dhision  of  the  Subject. 

Moral  philofophy  is  divided  into  two  great  branches. 
Ethics  and  Politics,  to  this fome  add  Jurifprudence,  though 
this  may  be  confidered  as  a  part  of  politics. 

Ethics  relate  to  perfonal  duties,  Politics  to  the  confli- 
tution,  government,  and  rights  of  focieties,  and  jurifpru- 
dence, to  the  adminiflration  of  juilice  in  conllituted  ftates. 

It  feems  a  point  agreed  upon,  that  the  princ'ples  of 
duty  and  obligation  mu(l  be  drawn  from  the  nature  of 
man.  That  is  to  fi\y,  if  we  can  difcover  how  his  Maker 
formed  him,  or  for  what  he  intt'nded  him,  that  certainly 
is  what  he  ought  to  be. 

'1  he  knowledge  of  human  nature,  however,  is  either 
perplexed  and  difficult  of  itfclf,  or  hath  been  made  fo,  by 
the  manner  in  which  writers  in  all  ages  have  treated  it. 
Perhaps  this  circumftance  itfelf,  is  a  Rrong  prefump- 
tion  of  the  truth  of  the  Scripture  doctrine  of  the  depravity 
and  corruption  of  our  natu^  e.     Suppcfmg  this  depravity, 


272  Lectures  en 

it  mull  be  one  great  caufe  of  difficulty  and  confufion  in 
giving  an  account  of  human  nature  as  the  work  of  God. 

This  I  take  to  be  indeed  the  cafe  with  the  greatell  part 
of  our  moral  and  theological  knowledge. 

Thofe  who  deny  this  depravity,  will  be  apt  to  plead  for 
every  thing,  or  for  many  things  as  didates  of  nature, 
v/hich  are  in  reality  propenfities  of  nature  in  its  prefent 
itate,  but  at  the  fame  time  the  fruit  and  evidence  of  its 
departure  from  its  original  purity.  It  is  by  the  remaining 
power  of  natural  confcience  that  we  mud  endeavor  to  de- 
tect and  oppofe  thefe  errors. 

(i)  We  may  confider  man  very  generally  in  his  fpecies  as 
diftinft  from  and  fuperior  to  the  otiier  creatures,  and  what 
it  is,  in  which  the  difference  truly  confifts.  (2)  As  an 
individual,  what  are  the  parts  which  conilitute  his  nature. 

I.  Philofophers  have  generally  attempted  to  affign  the 
precife  dillinftion  between  men  and  the  other  animals;  but 
when  endeavoring  to  bring  it  to  one  peculiar  incommu- 
nicable charadleriftic,  they  have  generally  contradifted 
one  another  and  fometimes  difputed  wdth  violence  and 
rendered  the  thing  more  uncertain. 

The  difficulty  of  fixing  upon  a  precife  criterion  only 
ferves  to  fhow  that  in  man  we  have  an  example  of  what 
we  fee  alfo  every  where  elfe,  viz.  a  beautiful  and  infen- 
fible  gradcttion  from  one  thing  to  another,  fo  that  the  high- 
eft  of  the  inferior  is,  as  it  were,  connected  and  blended 
with  the  loweft  of  the  fuperior  clafs.  Birds  and  beafts  are 
connected  by  fome  fpecies  fo  that  you  will  find  it  hard  to 
fay  whether  they  belong  to  the  one  or  tiie  other — So  in- 
deed it  is  in  the  whole  vegetc^ble  as  well  as  animal  kiiigdom. 
(1)  Some  fay  men  are  dillinguifhed  from  brutes  by  reafon, 
and  certainly  this,  either  in  kind  or  degree,  is  the  moll  ho- 
norable of  our  diftin(^tions.  (2)  Others  fay  that  many  brutes 
give  ftrong  figns  of  reafon,  as  dogs,  horfes  and  elephants. 
But  that  man  is  diftinguilhed  by  memory  and  forefight : 
but  1  apprehend  that  thefe  are  upon  the  fame  footing  with 
reafon,  if  there  are  fome  glimmerings  of  reafon  in  the 
brute  creation,  there  are  alfo  manifell  proofs  of  memory 
and  fome  of  forefight.  (3.)  Some  have  thought  it  pro- 
per to  diilinguifli  man  from  the  inferior  creatures  by  the 


Moral  Philosophy,  373 

ufe  of  fpeech,  no  other  creatures  having  an  articulate  lan- 
guage. Here  again  we  are  obliged  to  acknowledge  that  our 
diflindtlon  is  chiefly  the  excellence  and  fullnefs  of  articu- 
late difcoLirfe ;  for  brutes  have  certainly  the  art  of  ma- 
king one  another  underftand  many  things  by  found. — 
{4.y  Some  have  faid  that  man  is  not  compleatly  dif- 
tin^xuilhed  by  any  of  thefe,  but  by  a  fenfe  of  religion.  And 
I  think  it  muft  be  admitted  that  of  piety  or  a  fenfe  of  a  Su- 
preme Being,  there  is  not  any  trace  to  be  feen  in  the  in- 
ferior creatures.  The  (lories  handed  about  by  weak-mind- 
ed perfons,  or  retailed  by  credulous  authors,  of  refpe6\  in 
them  to  churches,  or  facred  perfons,  are  to  be  difdained 
as  wholly  fabulous  and  vifionary.  (5,)  There  have  been 
fome  who  have  faid  that  man  is  dillinguifhed  from  the 
brutes  by  a  fenfe  of  ridicule. 

The  whole  creation  (fays  a  certain  author)  is  grave 
except  man,  no  one  laughs  but  himfelf.  There  is  fome- 
thing  whimfical  in  fixing  upon  this  as  the  criterion,  and  it 
does  not  feem  to  fet  us  in  a  very  refpedable  light.  Perhaps 
it  is  not  improper  to  fmileupontiieoccafion,  and  to  fay,  that 
if  this  fentiment  is  embraced,  we  fliall  be  obliged  to  confcfs 
kindred  with  the  apes,  who  are  certainly  themfelves  pof- 
fefTed  of  a  rifible  faculty,  as  well  as  qualified  to  excite 
laughter  in  us.  On  the  whole  there  feems  no  neceflity  of 
fixing  upon  fome  one  criterion   to  the  exclufion  ofothrs. 

There  is  a  great  and  apparent  diltindlion  between  man 
and  the  inferior  animals,  not  only  in  the  beauty  of  his 
form,  which  the  poet  takes  notice  of,  Os  homini  fublime 
dedit,  &c.  but  alio  in  reafon,  memory,  reflection,  and 
the  knowledge  of  God  and  a  future  ilate. 

A  general  dillinclion,  w^hich  deferves  particularly  to  be 
taken  notice  of  in  moral  difquifitions,  is,  that  man  is  evi- 
dently made  to  be  guided,  and  protedled  from  dangers, 
and  fupplied  with  wliat  is  ufeful  more  by  reafon,  and 
brutes  more  by  inftindl. 

It  is  not  very  eafy  and  perhaps  not  neceflary  to  explain 
inftinC:!:.  It  is  fomething  previous  to  reafon  and  choice. 
When  we  fay  the  birds  build  their  nefts  by  inlHncl,  and 
man  builds  his  habitation  by   refledlion,    experience    or 

Vol.  III.  Mm 


274  Lectures  on 

inilruQion,  we  underhand  the  thing  well  enough,  but  if  we 
attempt  to  give  a  logical  definition  of  either  the  one  or  the 
other,  it  will  immediately  be  aiTaulted  by  a  thoufand  ar- 
guments. 

Though  man  is  evidently  governed  by  fomething  elfe 
than  in(lin6l,  he  alfo  has  feveral  inflindive  propenfities, 
fome  of  them  independent  of,  and  fome  of  them  intermix- 
ed Vvath  his  moral  difpofitions.  Of  the  firft  kind  are  hun- 
ger,  thirfl,  and  fome  others  ;  of  the  lad  is  the  srofy-K  or  pa- 
rental tendernefs  towards  offspring. 

On  inilindt  we  Ihall  only  fay  farther,  that  it  leads  more 
immediately  to  the  appointment  of  the  Creator,  and  whe- 
ther in  man,  or  in  other  creatures,  operates  more  early  and 
more  uniformly  than  reafon. 


LECTURE    ir. 
CONSIDERING  man  as  an  individual,  we  dif. 


2d. in 

cover  the   moll  obvious   and  remarkable  cir- 


c 

cumilances  of  his  nature,  that  he  is  a  compound  of  body 
and  fpirit.  I  take  this  for  granted  here,  becaufe  we  are 
only  explaining  the  nature  of  man.  When  we  come  to 
his  fentiments  and  principles  of  adlion,  it  will  be  more 
proper,  to  take  notice  of  the  fpi ritual ity  and  immortality 
of  the  foul,   and  how  they  are  proved. 

The  body  and  fpirit  have  a  great  reciprocal  influence 
one  upon  another.  The  body  on  the  temper  and  difpofiti- 
on  of  the  foul,  and  the  foul  on  the  ft  ate  and  habit  of  the 
body.  The  body  is  properly  the  minifter  of  the  foul,  the 
means  of  conveying  perceptions  to  it,  but  nothing  with- 
out it. 

It  isneedlefs  to  enlarge  upon  the  ftru(5lure  of  the  body; 
this  is  fufficiently  known  to  all,  except  we  defcend  to  ana- 
tomical exadtnefs,  and  then  like  all  the  other  parts  of  na- 
ture it  ihows  the  infinite  wifdom  of  the  Creator.  With  re- 
gard to  morals,  the  influence  of  the  body  in  a  certain 
view  may  be  very  great  in  enflaving  men  to  appetite, 
and  yet  there  does  not  fcem  any  fuch  conne<Sion  with 


Moral  Philosophy.  iyg 

morals  as  to  require  a  particular  defcription.  I  think 
there  is  little  reafon  to  doubt  that  there  are  great  and  ef- 
fential  differences  between  man  and  man,  as  to  the  fpirit 
and  its  proper  powers;  but  it  feems  plain  that  liich  are  the 
laws  of  union  between  the  body  and  fpirit,  that  many  fa- 
culties are  weakened  and  fome  rendered  altogether  incapa- 
ble of  exercife,  merely  by  an  alteration  of  the  Hate  of  the  bo- 
dy. Memory  is  frequently  loft  and  judgment  weakened  by 
old  age  and  difeafe.  Sometimes  by  a  confufion  of  the  brain 
in  a  fall  th^  judgment  is  wholly  difordered.  The  inftinc- 
tive  appetites  of  hunger,  and  thirft,  feem  to  refide  dire6lly 
in  the  body,  and  the  foul  to  have  little  more  than  a  paffive 
perception.  Some  paffions,  particularly  fear  and  rage, 
feem  alfo  to  have  their  feat  in  the  body,  immediately  pro- 
ducing a  certain  modification  of  the  blood  and  fpirits. — 
This  indeed  is  perhaps  the  cafe  in  fome  degree  with  all 
paffions  whenever  they  are  indulged,  they  give  a  modi- 
fication to  the  blood  and  fpirits,  which  make  them  eafily 
rekindled,  but  there  are  none  which  do  fo  inftantaneoufly 
arife  from  the  body,  and  prevent  deliberation,  will  and 
choice,  as  thefe.  now  named.  To  confider  the  evil  paf- 
fions towhich  we  are  liable,  we  may  fay  thofe  that  de- 
pend moft  upon  the  body,  are  fear,  anger,  voluptuoufnefs^ 
and  thofe  that  depend  leaft  upon  it,  are  ambition,  envy, 
covetoufnefs. 

The  faculties  of  the  mind  are  commonly  divided  inta 
thefe  three  kinds,  the  underftanding,  the  will,  and  the 
affedions ;  though  perhaps  it  is  proper  to  obferve,  that 
thefe  are  not  three  qualities  wholly  diftin(5t,  as  if  they  were 
three  different  beings,  but  different  ways  of  exerting  the 
fame  fimple  principle.  It  is  the  foul  or  mind  that  un- 
derftands,  wills,  or  is  affe^led  with  pleafure  and  pain.  The 
underftanding  feems  to  have  truth  for  its  objedt,  the  dif- 
covering  things  as  they  really  are  in  themfelves,  and  in 
their  relations  one  to  another.  It  has  been  difputed  whe- 
ther good  be  in  any  degree  the  object  of  the  underftand- 
ing. On  the  one  hand  it  feems  as  if  truth  and  that  only 
belonged  to  the  underftanding ;  becaufe  we  can  eafily 
fuppofe  perfons  of  equal  intelle^lual  powers  and  oppofite 
moral  charaders.     Nay,  we  can  fuppofe  malignity]  oinecl 


2^6  Lectures  on 

to  a  high  degree  of  underllanding  and  vhtue,  or  true  good- 
nefs  to  a  much  lower.  On  the  other  hand,  the  choice 
made  by  the  will  feems  to  have  the  judgment  or  delibe- 
ration of  the  underftanding  as  its  very  foundation.  How 
can  this  be,  it  will  be  faid  if  the  underflanding  has  nothing 
to  do  with  good  or  evil.  A  confiderable  oppofition  of 
fentiments  among  philofophers,  has  arifen  from  this  quef- 
tion.  Dr.  Clark,  and  fome  others  make  underflanding 
or  reafon  the  immediate  principle  of  virtue.  Shaftfbury, 
Hutchinfon,  and  others,  make  affeQion  the  principle  of  it. 
Perhaps  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  is  wholly  right. 
Probably  both  are  necelfary.  r 

The  conne6lion  between  truth  and  goodnefs,  between 
the  underflanding  and  the  heart,  is  a  fubjedl  of  great  mo- 
ment, ^but  alio  of  great  difficulty.  I  think  we  may  fay  with 
certainty  that  infinite  perfedion,  intelledtual  and  moral, 
are  united  and  infeparable  in  the  Supreme  Being.  There 
is  not  however  in  inferior  natures  an  exa6t  proportion  be- 
tween the  one  and  the  other ;  yet  I  apprehend  that  truth 
naturally  and  necefTarily  promotes  goodnefs,  and  falfe- 
hood  the  contrary  ;  but  as  the  influence  is  reciprocal,  ma- 
lignity of  difpofition,  even  with  the  greatell  natural  pow- 
ers, blinds  the  underflanding,  and  prevents  the  perception 
of  truth  itfelf. 

Of  the  will  it  is  ufual  to  enumerate  four  a6ls  ;  defire, 
averfion,  joy  and  forrow.  The  two  lafl;,  Hutchinfon 
fays  are  fuperfluous,  in  which  he  feems  to  be  rights 
All  the  a<R;s  of  the  will  may  be  reduced  to  the  two 
great  heads  of  defire  and  averfion,  or  in  other  words, 
chufmg  and  refufmg. 

The  affections  are  called  alfo  paffions  becaufe  often 
excited  by  external  objedis.  In  as  far  as  they  differ 
from  a  calm  deliberate  deciflon  of  the  judgment,  or  de-, 
termination  of  the  will,  they  may  be  called  flrong  pro- 
penfities,  implanted  in  our  nature,  which  of  themfelves 
contribute  not  a  little  to  bias  the  judgment,  or  incline 
the  will. 

The  affections  cannot  be  better  underflood  than  by 
obferving  the  difference  between  a  calm  deliberate  gene- 
ral  inclination,    whether  of  the  felfilh   or    benevolent 


Moral  Philosophy. 


277- 


kind,  and  particular  violent  inclinations.  Every  man 
deliberately  wiilies  his  own  happinefs,  but  this  differs 
confiderabiy  from  a  paffionate  attachment  to  particular 
gratifications,  as  a  love  of  riches,  honors,  pleafures. 
A  p;ood  man  will  have  a  deliberate  fixed  deftre  of  the 
welfare  of  mankind  ;  but  this  differs  from  the  love  of 
children,  relations,  friends,  country. 

The  pafTions  are  very  numerous  and  may  be  greatly 
diverfiiied,  becaufe  every  thing,  however  modiiied,  that 
is  the  objed  of  defire  or  avcrfion,  may  grow  by  accident 
or  indulgence,  to  fuch  a  fize  as  to  be  called,  and  deferve 
to  be  called,  a  pallion.  Accordingly  we  exprefs  our- 
felves  thus  in  the  Englifli  language.  A  paffion  for 
horfes,  dogs,  play. 

However  all  the  paflions  may  be  ranged  under  the 
tvv'o  great  heads  of  love  and  hatred.  To  the  firft  belong 
eileem,  admiration,  good-will,  and  every  fpecies  of  ap- 
probation, delight,  and  defire  ;  to  the  other,  all  kinds  of 
averfion,  and  ways  of  exprefmg  it,  ejivy^  malice^  ^'^g^y 
revenge^  to  whatever  objects  they  may  be  diredled. 

Hope  and  fear,  joy  and  forrow,  though  frecjuently  rank- 
ed among  the  pafLons,  feem  rather  to  be  flates  or  modifi- 
cations of  the  mind,  attending  the  exercife  of  every  paf- 
fion, according  as  its  object  is  probable  or  improbable, 
polfefl  or  loff. 

Jealoufy  feems  to  be  a  pafTion  of  a  middle  nature,  which 
it  is  not  eafy  to  fay  whether  it  fliould  be  ranked  under  the 
head  of  love  or  hatred.  It  is  often  fliid  of  jealoufy  between 
the  fexes,  that  itfprings  from  love  ;  yet,  it  feems  plainly 
impoflible,  that  it  can  have  place  without  forming  an  ill 
opinion  of  its  objeQ,  at  leaft  in  fome  degree.  The  fame 
thing  may  be  faid  of  jealoufy  and  fufpicion  in  friendship. 

The  pailions  may  be  ranged  in  two  clafTes  in  a  different 
way,  viz.  as  they  are  felfifh  or  benevolent,  public  or  pri- 
vate. There  will  be  great  occafion  to  confider  this  dil- 
tin6tion  afterwards,  in-  explaining  the  nature  of  virtue, 
and  d:ie  motives  that  lead  to  it.  What  is  obferved  now, 
is  only  to  illuftrate  our  nature  as  it  really  is.  There  is  a 
great  and  real  diftin^lion  between  paffions,  felfifh  and  be- 
nevolent.    The  firft  point  directly,  and  immediately  at 


2^8  Lectures  on 

our  own  interefl  in  the  gratification  ;  the  others  point  im- 
mediately at  the  happiiicfs  of  others.  Of  the  firll  kind, 
is  the  love  of  fame,  power,  property,  pleafure.  And  of 
the  fecond,  is  family  and  domeftic  afFedlion,  friendfhip  and 
patriotifm.  It  is  to  no  purpofe  to  fay,  that  ultimately,  it 
is  to  pleafe  ourfelves,  or  becaufe  we  feel  a  fatisfadlion  in 
feeking  the  good  of  others  ;  for  it  is  certain,  that  the  direct 
object  in  view  in  many  cafes,  is  to  promote  the  happinefs 
of  others  ;  and  for  this  many  have  been  willing  to  facrifice 
every  thing,  even  life  itfelf. 

After  this  brief  furvey  of  human  nature,  in  one  light, 
or  in  one  point  of  view,  which  may  be  called  its  capacity, 
it  will  be  necefTary  to  return  back,  and  take  a  furvey  of  the 
way,  in  which  we  become  acquainted  with  the  objects  about 
which  we  are  to  be  converfant,  or  upon  which  the  above 
faculties  are  to  be  exercifed. 

On  this  it  is  proper  to  obferve  in  general,  that  there  are 
but  two  ways  in  which  we  come  to  the  knowledge  of 
things,  viz.  ifl;,  Senfation,  2d,  Reflection. 

The  firll  of  thefe  muft  be  divided  again  into  two  parts, 
external  and  internal. 

External  arifes  from  the  immediate  imprellion  of  ob- 
je6ls  from  without.  The  external  fenfes  in  number  are 
five  ;    feeing,  hearing,  feeling,  tafting  and  fmelling. 

In  thefe  are  obfervable  the  impreffion  itfelf,  or  the  fen- 
fation  we  feel,  and  the  fuppofition  infeparable  from  it,  that 
it  is  produced  by  an  external  objed.  That  our  fenfes  are 
to  be  trufted  in  the  information  they  give  us,  feems  to  me 
a  firll  principle,  becaufe  they  are  the  foundation  of  all  our 
after  reafonings.  The  few  exceptions  of  accidental  irre- 
gularity in  the  fenfes,  can  found  no  juft  objedion  to  this, 
as  there  are  fo  many  plain  and  obvious  ways  of  difcovering 
and  corre6ling  it. 

The  reality  of  the  material  fvflem  I  think,  may  be  ea- 
fily  eilablilhed,  except  upon  fuch  principles  as  are  fubver- 
five  of  all  certainty,  and  lead  to  univerfal  fcepticifm  ;  and 
perfons  who  would  maintain  fuch  principles,  do  not  de- 
lerve  to  be  reafoned  with,  becaufe  they  do  not  pretend  to 
communicate  knowledge,  but  to  take  all  knowledge  from 
us. 


Moral  Philosophy,  279 

The  Immaterlallifts  fay,  that  we  are  confcious  of  no- 
thing, but  the  imprefhon  or  feeling  of  our  own  mind  ;  but 
they  do  not  obferve  that  the  impreflion  itfelf,  implies  and 
fuppofes  fometbing  external,  that  communicates  it,  and 
cannot  be  feparated  from  that  fuppofition.  Sometimes 
fuch  reafoners  tell  us,  that  we  cannot  fliew  the  fubdance 
feparate  from  its  fenfible  qualities ;  no  more  can  any  man 
fliew  me  a  fenfible  quahty,  feparate  from  a  particular  fub- 
je6t.  If  any  man  will  (liew  me  whitenefs,  without  fhew^ 
ing  me  any  thing  that  is  white,  or  roundnefs  without  any 
thing  that  is  round,  I  will  iliew  him  the  fubftance  without 
either  color  or  fliape. 

Immaterialifm  takes  away  the  difl:in6lion  between  truth 
and  falfehood.  I  have  an  idea  of  a  houfe  or  tree  in  a  cer- 
tain place,  and  I  call  this  true,  that  is,  I  am  of  opinion, 
there  is  really  a  houfe  or  tree  in  that  place.  Again,  I 
form  an  idea  of  a  houfe  or  tree,  as  what  may  be  in  that 
place  J  I  aflc  what  is  the  difference,  if  after  all,  you  tell 
me,  there  is  neither  tree,  houfe  nor  place  any  where  ex- 
ifting.  An  advocate  for  that  fyflem  fays,  that  truth  con- 
fifts  in  the  livelinefs  of  the  idea,  than  which  nothing  can 
be  more  manifeflly  falfe.  I  can  form  as  diflindt  an  idea 
of  any  thing  that  is  not,  as  any  thing  that  is,  when  it  is  ab- 
fent  from  my  fight.  I  have  a  much  more  lively  idea  of 
Jupiter  and  Juno,  and  many  of  their  adlions,  from  Homer 
and  Virgil,  though  I  do  notbeheve  that  any  of  them  ever 
exided,  than  I  have  of  many  things  that  I  know  happened 
within  thefe  h\v  months. 

The  truth  is,  the  immaterial  fyflem,  is  a  wild  and  ridi- 
culous attempt  to  unfettle  the  principles  of  common  fcnfe 
by  metaphyfical  reafoning,  which  can  hardly  produce  any 
thing  but  contempt  in  the  generaUty  of  perfons  who  hear 
itt,  and  which  I  verily  believe,  never  produced  convidlioa 
even  on  the  perfons  who  pretend  to  cfpoufe  it. 


8o  Lecturer  on 


2ao 


LECTURE    III. 

INTERNAL  fenfluion  is  what  Mr.  Hutchinfon  calls  the 
finer  powers  of  perception.  It  takes  its  rife  from  ex- 
ternal objedls,  but  by  abftra6lion,  confiders  fomething  far- 
ther than  merely  the  fenfible  qualities — 

1 .  Thus  with  refpe(5t  to  many  objefls,  there  is  a  fenfe 
of  beauty  in  the  appearance,  UruClure  or  compofition, 
which  is  altogether  diflin6l  from  mere  color,  fhape  and 
extenfion.  How  then  is  this  beauty  perceived  ?  It  enters 
by  the  eye,  but  it  is  perceived  and  relifhed  by  what  may 
be  well  enough  called  an  internal  fenfe,  quality  or  capacity 
of  the  mind. 

2.  There  is  a  fenfe  of  pleafure  in  imitation,  whence  the 
arts  of  painting,  fculpture,  poetry,  are  often  called  the 
imitative  arts.  It  is  eafy  to  fee  that  the  imitation  itfelf 
gives  the  pleafure,  for  we  receive  much  pleafure  from  a 
lively  defcription  of  what  would  be  painful  to  behold. 

3.  A  fenfe  of  harmony. 

4.  A  {tvS^  of  order  or  proportion. 

Perhaps  after  all,  the  whole  of  thefe  fenfes  may  be  con- 
fidered  as  belonging  to  one  ciafs,  and  to  be  the  particulars 
which  either  fingly,  or  by  the  union  of  feveral  of  them,  or 
of  the  whole,  produce  what  is  called  the  pleafures  of  the 
imagination.  If  fo,  we  may  extend  thefe  fenfes  to  every 
thing  that  enters  into  the  principles  of  beauty  and  grace- 
fulnefs. — Order,  proportion,  fimplicity,  intricacy,  unifor- 
mity, variety — efpecially  as  thefe  principles  have  any 
thing  in  common  that  is  equally  applicable  to  all  the  fine 
arts,  painting,  ilatuary,  archite(^\ure,  mufic,  poetry, oratory. 

The  various  theories  upon  the  princij^les  of  beauty,  or 
what  it  is  diat  properly  conllitutes  it,  are  of  nmch  impor- 
tance on  the  fubjedt  of  tafte  and  ci  iticifm,  but  of  very  little 
in  point  of  morals.  Whether  it  be  a  fimple  percep- 
tion that  cannot  be  analyfed,  or  a  Je  ne  fcai  quoi,  as  the 
French  call  it,  that  cannot  be  difcovered,  it  is  the  fame 
thing  to  our  prefent  purpofe,  fince  it  cannot  be  denied, 


Moral  Philosophy.  2  8 1 

that  there  is  a  perception  of  beauty,  and  that  this  is  very 
different  from  the  mere  color  or  dimenfions  of  the  objedt. 
This  beauty  extends  to  the  form  and  fhape  of  vifible,  or 
to  the  grace  and  motion  of  living  objects  ;  indeed,  to  all 
works  of  art,  and  produ<5lions  of  genius. 

Thefe  are  called  the  reflex  fenfes  fometimes,  and  it  is  of 
moment  to  obferve  both  that  they  really  belong  to  our  na- 
ture, and  that  they  are  very  different  from  the  grofTer  per- 
ceptions of  external  fenfe. 

It  mud  alfo  be  obferved,  that  feveral  diflinguiflied  wri- 
ters have  added  as  an  internal  fenfe,  that  of  morality,  a 
fenfe  and  perception  of  moral  excellence,  and  our  obliga- 
tion to  conform  ourfelves  to  it  in  our  condu(?l. 

Though  there  is  no  occafion  to  join  Mr.  Hutchinfon  or 
any  other,  in  their  oppofition  to  fuch  as  make  reafon  the 
principle  of  virtuous  conduct,  yet  I  think  it  mull  be  ad- 
mitted, that  a  fenfe  of  meral  good  and  evil,  is  as  really  a 
principle  of  our  nature,  as  either  the  grofs  external  or  re- 
flex fenfes,  and  as  truly  diftindl  from  both,  as  they  are 
from  each  other. 

This  moral  fenfe  is  precifely  the  fame  thing  with  what, 
in  fcripture  and  common  language,  we  call  confcience. 
It  is  the  law  which  our  Maker  has  written  upon  our  hearts, 
and  both  intimates  and  enforces  duty,  previous  to  all  rea- 
foning.     The  oppofers  of  innate  ideas,  and  of  the  law  of 
nature,  are  unwilling  to  admit  the  reality  of  a  moral  fenfe, 
yet  their  objedlions  are  wholly  frivolous.  The  neceffity  of 
education  and  information  to  the  production  and  exercife 
of  the  reflex  fenfes  or  powers  of  the  imagination,  is  every 
whit  as  great  as  to  the  application  of  the  moral  fenfe.     If 
therefore  anyone  fhould  fay,  as  is  often  done  by  Mr.  Locke, 
if  there  are  any  innate  principles  what  are  they  ?  enume* 
rate  them  to  me,  if  they  are  eifential  to  man  they  mull  be 
in  every  man  ;  let  me  take  any  artlefs  clown  and  exa- 
mine him,  and  fee  if  he  can  tell  me  what  they  are. — I 
would  fay,  if  the  principles  of  tafte  are  natural  they  mud 
be  univerfal.   Let  me  try  the  clown  then,  and  fee  whether 
he  will  agree  with  us,  either  in  difcoveringthe  beauty  of  a 
poem  or  picture,  or  being  able  to  affign  the  reafons  of  his 
approbation. 

Vol.  hi.  N  n 


282  Lectures  on 

There  are  two  fenfes  which  are  not  eafily  reducible  to 
any  of  the  two  kinds  of  internal  fenfes,  and  yet  certainly 
belong  to  our  nature.  They  are  allied  to  one  another — 
A  fenfe  of  ridicule,  and  a  fenfe  of  honor  and  fliame.  A 
fenfe  of  the  ridiculous  is  fomething  peculiar  ;  for  though 
it  be  admitted  that  every  thing  that  is  ridiculous  is  at  the 
fame  time  unreafonable  and  abfurd;  yet  it  is  as  certain  the 
terms  are  not  convertible,  for  any  thing  that  is  abfurd  is 
not  ridiculous.  There  are  an  hundred  falflioods  in  ma- 
thematics and  other  fciences,  that  do  not  tempt  any  body 
to  laugh. 

Shaftlbury  has,  through  his  whole  writings,  en- 
deavored to  eftablifh  this  principle  that  ridicule  is  the 
tell  of  truth ;  but  the  fallhood  of  that  opinion  appears 
from  the  above  remark,  for  there  is  fomething  really 
di(lin6l  from  reafoning  in  ridicule.  Itfeems  to  be  putting 
imagination  in  the  place  of  reafon.- — See  Brown's  Eflays 
on  the  Charadlerifilcs. 

A  fenfe  of  honor  and  fliame  feems,  in  a  certain  view,  to 
fubje6l  us  to  the  opinions  of  others,  as  they  depend  upon 
the  fentiments  of  our  fellow-creatures.  Yet,  perhaps  we 
may  confider  this  fentiment  as  intended  to  be  an  alTillant 
or  guard  to  virtue,  by  making  us  apprehend  reproach  from 
others  for  what  is  in  itfelf  worthy  of  blame.  This  fenfe 
is  very  ftrong  and  powerful  in  its  efFe(5ls,  whether  it  be 
guided  by  true  or  falfe  principles. 

After  this  furvey  of  human  nature,  let  us  confider  how 
we  derive  either  the  nature  or  obligation  of  duty  from  it. 

One  way  is  to  confider  what  indications  we  have  from 
our  nature  of  the  way  that  leads  to  the  truefl  happinefs. 
This  muft  be  done  by  a  careful  attention  to  the  feveral 
clalTes  of  perceptions  and  afFedlions,  to  fee  which  of  them 
are  moll  excellent,  delightful,  or  defirable. 

They  will  then  foon  appear  to  be  of  three  great  clafTes, 
as  mentioned  above,  eafily  diilinguifliable  from  one  ano- 
ther, and  gradually  rifing  above  one  another. 

I.  The  gratification  of  the  external  fenfes.  This  af- 
fords fome  pleafure.  We  are  led  to  defire  what  is  plea- 
fing,  and  to  avoid  what  is  difguflful  to  them. 


Moral  Philosophy,  283 

2.  The  finer  powers  of  perception  give  a  delight 
which  is  evidently  more  excellent,  and  which  we  muft 
neceflarily  pronounce  more  noble.  Poetry,  painting, 
mufic,  &c.  the  exertion  of  genius,  and  exercii'e  of  the 
mental  powers  in  general,  give  a  pleafure,  though  not  fo 
tumultuous,  much  more  refined,  and  which  does  not  fo 
foon  fatiate. 

3.  Superior  to  both  thefe,  is  a  {^vSt  of  moral  excel- 
lence, and  a  pleafure  arifing  from  doing  what  is  dictated 
by  the  moral  fenfe. 

It  muft  doubdefs  be  admitted  that  this  reprefentation 
is  agreeable  to  truth,  and  that  to  thofe  who  would  calmly 
and  fairly  weigh  the  delight  of  moral  a6lion,  it  muft  appear 
fuperior  to  any  other  gratification,  being  moft  noble ^  pure 
and  durable,  Tiierefore  we  might  conclude,  that  it  is  to  be 
preferred  before  all  other  fources  of  pleafure— that  they 
are  to  give  way  to  it  when  oppofite,  and  to  be  no  other- 
Avife  embraced  than  in  fubferviency  to  it. 

But  though  we  cannot  fay  there  is  any  thing  falfe  in 
this  theory,  there  are  certainly  very  elTential  defeats. — 
As  for  example,  it  wholly  confounds,  or  leaves  entirely 
undiftinguiftied,  acting  virtuoufiy  from  feeking  happinefs: 
fo  that  promoting  our  own  happinefs  will  in  that  cafe  be 
the  eflence  or  definition  of  virtue,  and  a  view  to  our  own 
intereft  will  be  the  fole  and  complete  obligation  to  vir- 
tue. Now  there  is  good  ground  to  believe  not  only  that 
reafon  teaches  us,  but  that  the  moral  fenfe  dictates  to  us, 
fomething  more  on  both  heads,  viz.  that  there  are  difin- 
terefted  affedlions  that  point  dlreQly  at  the  good  of  others, 
and  that  thefe  are  fo  far  from  meriting  to  be  excluded 
from  the  notion  oF  virtue  altogether,  that  they  rather  feem 
to  claim  a  preference  to  the  felfifh  afFedlions.  I  know 
the  friends  of  the  fcheme  of  felf  intereft  have  a  way  of 
coloring  or  folvlng  this.  They  fay,  men  only  approve 
and  delight  in  benevolent  aftedlicns,  as  pleafi ng  and  de- 
lightful to  themfelves.  But  this  is  not  fatisfying,  for  it 
feems  to  weaken  the  force  of  public  affection  very  much, 
to  refer  it  all  to  felf  intereft,  and  when  nature  feems  to 
be  carrying  you  out  of  yourfelf,  by  ftrong  inftin6live  pro- 
penfities  or  implanted  aiTedions,  to  turn  the  current  and 


284  Lectures  on 

dire6tion  of  thefe  into  the  ftream  of  felf  intereft  in  which 
experience  tells  us  we  are  moil  apt  to  run  to  a  vicious 
excefs. 

Befides  it  is  affirmed,  and  I  think  with  good  reafon,  that 
the  moral  fenfe  carries  a  good  deal  more  in  it  than  mere- 
\y  an  approbation  of  a  certain  clafs  of  actions  as  beautiW, 
praife  worthy  or  delightful,  and  therefore  finding  our 
intereft  in  them  as  the  mod  noble  gratification.  The 
moral  fenfe  implies  alfo  a  fenfe  of  obligation,  that  fuch  and 
fuch  things  are  right  and  others  wrong ;  that  we  are 
bound  in  duty  to  do  the  one,  and  that  our  condu6l  is 
hateful,  blameable,  and  deferving  of  punifliment,  if  we 
do  the  contrary  ;  and  there  is  alfo  in  the  moral  fenfe  or 
confcience,  an  apprehenfion  or  belief  that  reward  and 
punifhment  will  follo\^ ,  according  as  we  fhall  a<5l  in  the 
one  way,  or  in  the  other. 

It  is  fo  far  from  being  true,  that  there  is  no  more  in 
virtuous  a6lion  than  a  fuperior  degree  of  beauty,  or  a 
more  noble  pleafure,  that  indeed  the  beauty  and  fv\^eetnefs 
of  virtuous  adtion  arifes  from  this  very  circumltance— 
that  it  is  a  compliance  with  duty  or  fuppofed  obligrtion. 
Take  away  this,  and  the  beauty  vanilhes,  as  well  as  the 
pleafure.  Why  is  it  more  pleafant  to  do  a  jull  or  chari- 
table a6lion  than  to  fatisfy  my  palate  with  delightful 
meat,  or  to  walk  in  a  beautiful  garden,  or  read  an  exqui- 
fite  poem  ?  only  becaufe  I  feel  my  felf  under  an  obligation 
to  do  it,  as  a  thing  ufeful  and  important  in  itfelf.  It  is  not 
duty  becaufe  pleafing,  but  pleafmg  becaufe  duty. — The 
fame  thing  may  be  faid  of  beauty  and  approbation.  I  do 
not  approve  of  the  condu6lof  a  plain,  honeft,  induflrious, 
pious  man,  becaufe  it  is  more  beautiful  than  that  of  an  idle 
profligate,  but  I  fay  it  is  more  beautiful  and  amiable,  be- 
caufe he  keeps  within  the  bounds  of  duty.  I  fee  a  higher 
fpecies  of  beauty  in  moral  a<^ion ;  but  it  arifes  from  a 
fenfe  of  obligation.  It  may  be  faid,  that  my  intereft  and 
duty  are  the  fame,  becaufe  they  are  infeparable,  and  the 
one  arifes  from  the  other  ;  but  there  is  a  real  diftin6tion 
and  priority  of  order.  A  thing  is  not  my  duty,  becaufe 
it  is  my  intereft,  but  it  is  a  wife  appointment  of  nature, 
thfit  I  Ihall  forfeit  my  intereft,  if  I  negled  my  duty. 


Moral  Philosophy.  2  85 

Several  other  remarks  might  be  made  to  confirm  this. 
When  any  perfon  has  by  experience  found  that  in  feek- 
ing  pleafure  he  embraced  a  lefs  pleafmg  enjoyment,  in 
place  of  one  more  delightful,  he  may  be  fenfible  of  mif- 
take  or  misfortune,  but  he  has  nothing  at  all  of  the  feeling 
of  blame  or  felf-condemnation  ;  but  when  he  hath  done 
an  immoral  a6lion,  he  has  an  inward  remorfe,  and  feels 
that  he  has  broken  a  law,  and  that  he  ought  to  have  done 
otherwife. 


LECTURE    1 V^ 

r  R  ^HIS  therefore  lays  us  under  the  neceffity  of  fcarch- 
Jl^  ing  a  little  further  for  the  principle  of  moral  adlion. 
In  order  to  do  this  with  the  greater  accuracy,  and  give 
you  a  view  of  the  chief  controverlies  on  this  fubje<^,  ob- 
ferve,  that  there  are  really  three  queftions  upon  it,  v/hicli 
mull  be  inquired  into,  and  diftinguiflied.  I  am  fenfible, 
they  are  fo  intimately  conne6led,  that  they  are  fometimes 
neceflarily  intermixed  ;  but  at  others,  not  diflinguiihing, 
leads  into  error.     The  queRions  relate  to 

1.  The  nature  of  virtue. 

2.  The  foundation  of  virtue. 

3.  The  obligation  of  virtue. 

When  we  inquire  into  the  nature  of  virtue,  we  do 
enough,  when  we  point  out  what  it  is,  or  fiiow  how  we 
may  come  to  the  knowledge  of  every  particular  duty, 
and  be  able  to  dillinguifh  it  from  the  oj'jpofite  vice.  When 
we  fpeak  of  the  foundation  of  virtue,  we  aflc  or  anfwer  the 
quellion,  Why  is  it  fo  ?  Why  is  this  courfe  of  adllon  pre- 
ferable to  the  contrary?  What  is  its  excellence?  When 
v/e  fpeak  of  the  obligation  of  virtue,  v/e  aflc  by  what  law 
we  are  bound,  or  from  what  principles  we  ought  to  be 
obedient  to  the  precepts  which  it  contains  or  prefcribes. 

After  fpeaking  fomething  to  each  of  thefe — to  the  con- 
troverfies  that  have  been  raifed  upon  them — and  the  pro- 
priety or  importance  of  entering  far  into  thefe  controver- 
p9§,  or  a  particular  decifion  of  them,  I  iliall  proceed  to 


^B6  Lectures  on 

a  detail  of  the  moral  laws  or  the  feveral  branches  of  duty 
according  to  the  divifion  firfl  laid  down. 

I.  As  to  the  nature  of  virtue,  or  what  it  is ;  or,  in 
Other  words,  what  is  the  rule  by  which  I  mufl  try  every 
difputed  practice — that  I  may  keep  clear  of  the  next  quef- 
tion,  you  may  obferve,  that  upon  all  the  fyilems  they  mull 
have  recourfe  to  one  or  more  of  the  fohov\^ing,  viz.  Confci- 
cnce,  reafon,  experience.  All  who  found  virtue  upon  af- 
fedlion,  particularly  Hutchinfon,  Shaftfl)ury  and  their  fol- 
lowers, make  the  moral  fenfe  the  rule  of  duty,  and  very 
often  attempt  to  exclude  the  ufe  of  reafon  on  this  iubjtiSt. 
^Thefe  autliors  feem  alfo  to  make  benevolence  and  public 
afFe6lion  ihe  llandard  of  virtue,  in  diflin^lion  from  all 
private  and  felfifh  paffions. 

•  Dodlor  Clark  and  moil  Englifh  writers  of  the  lafl;  age, 
make  reafon  the  flandard  of  virtue,  particularly  as  op- 
pofed  to  inward  fentiment  or  afiedl'on.  They  have  thi^ 
to  iciy  particularly  in  fupport  of  their  opinion,  that  rea- 
fon does  in  fadt  often  controul  and  alter  fentiment; 
whereas  fentiment  cannot  alter  the  clear  decifions  of  rea- 
fon. Suppofe  my  heart  did:ates  to  me  any  thing  to  be 
my  duty,  as  for  example,  to  have  compaffion  on  a  per- 
fon  detefted  in  the  com  million  of  crimes  ;  yet  if,  upon 
cool  reflection,  I  perceive  that  fuffering  him  to  go  unpu- 
niflied  wlil  be  hurtful  to  the  community,  I  counteraft 
the  fentiment  from  the  deductions  of  reafon. 

Again  :  Some  take  in  the  aid  of  experience,  and  chiefly 
a£l  upon  it.  All  particularly  who  are  upon  the  felfifh 
fcheme,  find  it  neceffary  to  make  experience  the  guide;, 
to  fliov/  them  what  things  are  really  conducive  to  happi^ 
nefs  and  what  not. 

We  Ihall  proceed  to  confider  the  opinions  upon  the  na^ 
ture  of  virtue,  the  chief  of  which  arc  as  follow  : 

1,  Some  fay  that  virtue  confills  in  ailing  agreeably  to 
the  nature  and  reafon  of  things.  And  that  weare  to 
abllradl  from  all  affeClion,  public  and  private,  in  determin- 
ing any  quefiion  upon  it.     Clark. 

2.  Some  fay  that  benevolence  or  public  affeClion  is 
virtue,  and  that  a  regard  to  the  good  of  the  whole  is  the 
:(landard  of  virtue.     What   is   moll   remarkable  in  thi^ 


Mural  Philosophy,  ^^ 

fclieme  is,  that  it  makes  the  fenfe  of  obligation  in  parti- 
cular  inflances  give  way  to  a  fuppofed  greater  good- 
Hutchhifbn. 

3.  One  author  (Wollofton  Rel.  of  Nat.  delinea.ted) 
makes  truth  the  foundation  of  virtue,  and  he  reduces  the 
good  or  evil  of  any  adlion  to  the  truth  or  falfliood  of  a 
propofition.  This  opinion  differs  not  in  fubftance,  but 
in  words  only  from  Dr.  Clark's. 

4.  Others  place  virtue  in  felf  love,  and  make  a  well 
regulated  felf  love  the  Itandard  and  foundation  of  it* 
This  fcheme  is  bell  defended  by  Dr.  Campbel,  of  St.  An- 
drews. 

5.  Some  of  late  have  made  fympathy  the  flandard  of 
virtue,  particularly  Smith  in  his  Theory  of  Moral  Sen- 
timents. He  fays  we  have  a  certain  feeling,  by  which  we 
fympathize,  and  as  he  calls  it,  go  along  with  what  ap- 
pears to  be  right.  This  is  but  a  new  phrafeology  for  the 
moral  fenfe. 

6.  David  Hume  has  a  fcheme  of  morals  that  is  pecu- 
liar to  himfelf.  He  makes  every  thing  that  is  agreeable 
and  usejul  Vmuo'd^^  and  vice  verfa,  by  which  he  entirely 
annihilates  the  difference  between  natural  and  moral 
qualities,  making  health,  flrength,  cleanlinefs,  as  really 
virtues  as  integrity  and  truth. 

7.  We  have  an  opinion  publifhed  in  this  country,  that 
virtue  confifls  in  the  love  of  being  as  fuch. 

^  Several  of  thefe  authors  do  eafily  and  naturally  incor- 
porate piety  with  their  fyflem,  particularly  Clark,  Hut- 
chinfon,  Campbell  and  Edwards. 

And  there  are  fome  who  begin  by  eftablifliing  natural 
religion,  and  then  found  virtue  upon  piety.  This  amounts 
to  the  fame  thing  in  fubftance ;  for  reafoners  upon  the 
nature  of  virtue  only  mean  to  fhow  what  the  Author  of 
nature  has  pointed  out  as  duty.  And  after  natural  re- 
ligion is  ellabliflied  on  general  proofs,  it  will  remain  to 
point  out  what  are  its  laws,  which,  not  taking  in  revela- 
tion, mull  bring  us  back  to  confider  our  own  nature,  and 
the  rational  dedu6lions  from  it. 

.  .  2.  The  opinions  on  the  foundation  of  virtue  may  br 
-fummed  up  in  the  four  foUov/ing: 


288  Lectures  6n 

I.  The  will  of  God.  2.  The  reafon  and  nature  of 
thmgs.     3.  The  public  intereil.     4.  Private  interefl. 

1.  The  will  of  God.  By  this  is  not  meant  what  was 
mentioned  above,  that  the  intimations  of  the  divine  will 
point  out  what  is  our  duty ;  but  that  the  reafon  of  the  dif- 
ference between  virtue  and  vice  is  to  be  fought  no  where 
elfe  than  in  the  good  pleafure  of  God.  That  there  is  no 
intrinfic  excellence  in  any  thing  but  as  he  commands  or 
forbids  it.  They  pretend  that  if  it  were  otherwife  there 
would  be  fomething  above  the  Supreme  Being,  fomething 
in  the  nature  of  things  that  would  lay  him  under  the  law 
of  neceflity  or  fate.  But  notwithflanding  the  difficulty 
of  our  forming  clear  conceptions  on  this  fubjedt,  itfeems 
very  harfli  and  unreafonable  to  fay  that  the  difference  be- 
tween virtue  and  vice  is  no  other  than  the  divine  will. 
This  would  be  taking  away  the  moral  character  even  of 
God  hiinfelf.  It  would  not  have  any  meaning  then  to  fay 
he  is  infinitely  holy  and  infinitely  perfedt.  But  proba- 
bly thofe  who  have  afferted  this  did  not  mean  any  more 
than  that  the  divine  will  is  fo  perfect  and  excellent  that 

all    virtue    is    reduced    to     conformity     to    it and 

that  we  ought  not  to  judge  of  good  and  evil  by  any 
other  rule.  This  is  as  true  as  that  the  divine  conduct  is 
the  flandard  of  wifdom. 

2.  Some  found  it  in  the  reafon  and  nature  of  things. 
This  may  be  faid  to  be  true,  but  not  fufficiently  precife 
and  explicit.  Thofe  who  embrace  this  principle  fucceed 
befi:  in  their  reafoning  when  endeavoring  to  Ihow  that 
there  is  an  elFential  difference  between  virtue  and  vice. 
But  when  they  attempt  to  fhow  wherein  this  difference 
doth  or  can  confiil,  other  than  public  or  private  happinefs, 
they  fpeak  with  very  little  meaning. 

3.  Public  happinefs.  This  opinion  is  that  the  founda- 
tion of  virtue,  or  that  which  makes  the  difi:indion  be- 
tween it  and  vice,  is  its  tendency  to  promote  the  general 
good ;  fo  that  utility  at  bottom  is  the  principle  of  virtue, 
even  with  the  great  patrons  of  difmterelled  afle^tion. 

4.  Private  happinefs.  Thofe  who  choofe  to  place  the 
foundation  of  virtue  here,  would  have  us  to  confider  no 


Moral  Philosophy,  289 

other  excellence  in  it  than  what  immediately  conduces  to 
our  own  gratification. 

Upon  thefe  opinions  I  would  obferve,  that  there  is 
Something  true  in  every  one  of  them,  but  that  they  may 
be  eafily  pufhed  to  an  error  by  excefs. 

The  nature  and  will  of  God  is  fo  perfe^l  as  to  be  the 
true  ftandard  of  all  excellence,  natural  and  moral :  and 
if  we  are  fure  of  what  he  is  or  commands,  it  would  be  pre- 
fumption  and  folly  to  reafon  againft  it,  or  put  our  views 
of  fitnefs  in  the  room  of  his  pleafure  ;  but  to  fay  that 
<5od,  by  his  will,  might  have  made  the  fame  temper  and 
conduct  virtuous  and  excellent,  which  we  nov/  call  vici- 
ous, feems  to  unhinge  all  our  notions  of  the  fupreme  ex- 
cellence even  of  God  himfelf. 

Again,  there  feems  to  be  in  the  nature  of  things  an 
intrinfic  excellence  in  moral  worth,  and  an  indelible  im- 
preffion  of  it  upon  the  confcience,  difl:in6l  from  producing 
or  receiving  happinefs,  and  yet  we  cannot  eafily  illuftrate 
its  excellence  but  by  comparing  one  kind  of  happinefs 
with  another. 

Again,  promoting  the  public  or  general  good  feems  to 
be  fo  nearly  connedled  with  virtue,  that  we  muil  ne- 
cefTarily  fuppofe  that  univerfal  virtue  could  be  of  uni- 
verfal  utility.  Yet  there  are  two  excefles  to  which  this 
has  fometimes  led.— One  the  fatalift  and  neceffitarian 
fchemes  to  which  there  are  fo  many  objections,  and  the 
other,  the  making  the  general  good  the  ultimate  pradli- 
cal  rule  to  every  particular  perfon,  fo  that  he  may  violate 
particular  obligations  with  a  view  to  a  morc  general 
benefit. 

Once  more,  it  is  certain  that  virtue  is  as  really  connedl- 
ed  with  private  as  with  public  happinefs,  and  yet  to  make 
the  interefl:  of  the  agent  the  only  foundation  of  it,  feems 
fo  to  narrow  the  mind,  and  to  be  fo  deftrudlive  to  the 
public  and  generous  afFedions  as  to  produce  the  moft 
hurtful  effeds. 

If  I  were  to  lay  down  a  few  propofitions  on  the  founda- 
tion of  virtue,  as  a  philofopher,  they  ihould  be  the  •fol'- 
lov/ing  : 

Vol.  IIL  O  q 


290  'Lectures  an 

1.  From  reafon,  contemplation,  fentiment  and  traditi> 
on,  the  Being  and  infinite  perfe<^ion  and  excellence  of 
God  may  be  deduced  ;  and  therefore  what  he  is,  and  com- 
mands, is  virtue  and  duty.  Whatever  he  has  implanted 
in  uncorrupted  nature  as  a  principle,  is  to  be  received  as 
his  will.  Propenfities  refilled  and  contradicted  by  the 
inward  principle  of  confcience,  are  to  be  confidered  as 
inherent  or  contracted  vice. 

2.  True  virtue  certainly  promotes  the  general  good, 
and  this  may  be  made  ufe  of  as  an  argument  in  doubtful 
cafes,  to  determine  whether  a  particular  principle  is  right 
or  wrong,  but  to  make  the  good  of  the  whole  our  imme- 
diate principle  of  a6lion,  is  putting  ourfelves  in  God's 
place,  and  actually  fuperfeding  the  necelfity  and  ufe  of 
the  particular  principles  of  duty  which  he  hath  imprefled 
upon  the  confcience.  As  to  the  whole  I  believe  the  uni- 
verfe  is  faultlefs  and  perfedt,  but  I  am  unwilling  to  fay 
it  is  the  best  poflible  fyflem,  becaufe  I  am  not  able  to  un- 
derftand  fuch  an  argument,  and  becaufe  it  feems  to  me 
abfurd  that  infinite  perfection  ihould  exhauft  or  limit 
itfelf  by  a  created  production. 

3.  There  is  in  the  nature  of  things  a  difference  be- 
tween virtue  and  vice,  and  however  much  virtue  and 
happinefs  are  connected  by  the  divine  law,  and  in  the 
event  of  things,  we  are  made  fo  as  to  feel  towards  them, 
and  conceive  of  them,  as  diftinCt.  We  have  the  fimple 
perceptions  of  duty  and  interefi:. 

4.  Private  and  public  interefi:  may  be  promoted  by  the 
fame  means,  but  they  are  diltinCt  views  ;  they  fhould  be 
made  to  aflTift,  and  not  defiroy  each  other. 

The  refult  of  the  whole  is,  that  we  ought  to  take  the 
rule  of  duty  from  confcience  enlightened  by  reafon,  ex- 
perience, and  every  way  by  which  we  can  be  fuppofed 
to  learn  the  will  of  our  Maker,  and  his  intention  in  creat- 
ing us  fuch  as  we  are.  And  we  ought  to  believe  that  it  is  as 
deeply  founded  as  the  nature  of  God  himfelf,  being  a  tranf- 
cript  of  his  moral  excellence,  and  that  it  is  productive 
of  the  greateil  good. 


Mdral  Philosophy,  291 

L  E  C  T  U  R  E    V. 

IT  remains  only  that  we  fpeak  of  the  obligation  of 
virtue,  or  what  is  the  law  that  binds  us  to  the  per- 
formance, and  from  what  motives  or  principles  we  ought 
to  follow  its  di(5lates. 

The  fentiments  upon  this  fubje6t  differ,  as  men  have 
different  views  of  the  nature  and  foundation  of  virtue, 
yet  they  may  be  reduced  within  narrower  bounds. 

The  obligation  of  virtue  may  be  eafily  reduced  to  two 
general  kinds,  duty  and  intereft.  The  firft,  if  real,  im- 
plies that  we  are  under  fome  law,  or  fubjedl  to  fome  fupe- 
rior,  to  whom  we  are  accountable.  The  other  only  im- 
plies that  nature  points  it  out  to  us  as  our  own  greateil 
happinefs,  and  that  there  is  no  other  reafon  why  we 
ought  to  obe3^ 

Now  I  think  it  is  very  plain  that  there  is  more  in  the 
obligation  of  virtue,  than  merely  our  greateil  happinefs. 
The  moral  fentiment  itfelf  implies  that  it  is  duty  inde- 
pendent of  happinefs.  This  produces  remorfe  and 
difapprobation  as  having  done  what  is  blameable  and  of 
ill  defert.  We  have  two  ideas  very  diftlnft,  when  we 
fee  a  man  miltaking  his  own  intereft  and  not  obtaining 
fo  much  happinefs  as  he  might,  and  when  we  fee  him 
breaking  throup^h  every  moral  obligation.  In  the 
lirftcafewe  confider  him  as  only  accountable  to  himfelf, 
in  the  fecond  we  confider  him  as  accountable  to  fome 
fuperior,  and  to  the  public.  This  fenfe  of  duty  is  the 
primary  notion  of  law  and  of  rights  taken  in  their  moft  ex- 
tenfive  figniiication  as  including  every  thing  we  think  we 
are  entitled  to  expect  from  others,  and  the  negled  or  viola-, 
tion  of  which  we  confider  as  wrong,  unjuft,  vicious,  and 
therefore  blameable.  It  is  alfo  affirmed  with  great  appa- 
rent reafon  by  many,  particularly  Butler  in  his  Ana- 
logy and  his  fermons,  that  v/e  ha.ve  a  natural  feeling  of 
ill  defert,  and  merited  punifliment  in  vice.  The  patrons 
of  the  felfifli  ideas  alone,  are  thofe  who  confine  the  oblv 
gation  of  virtue  to  happincfk. 


29^  Lectures  on 

But  of  thole  who  are,  or  would  be  thought  of  the  oppofitc 
fentiment,  there  are  fome  who  diiFer  very  confiderably 
from  others.  Some  who  profefs  great  oppofition  to  the 
felfifh  fcheme,  declare  alfo  great  averfion  to  founding 
the  obligation  of  virtue  in  any  degree  on  the  will  of  a  fu- 
perior,  or  looking  for  any  fan<5lion  of  punifliment,  to  cor- 
roborate the  moral  laws.  This  they  efpecially  treat  with 
contempt,  when  it  is  fuppofed  to  be  from  the  deity. 
Shafifbury  fpeaks  with  great  bitternefs  againfl  taking  into 
view  a  future  flate  of  what  he  calls  more  extended  felf- 
intereR.  He  fays  men  fliould  love  virtue  for  its  own  fake, 
without  regard  to  reward  or  punifhrn^ent.  In  this  he  has 
been  followed  by  many  reafoners,  as  far  as  their  regard  to 
religion  woukl  permit  them. 

If  however,  we  attend  to  the  diftates  of  confcience,  we 
iliall  find  evidently,  a  fenfe  of  duty,  of  felf-approbation 
and  remorfe,  which  plainly  ihow  us  to  be  under  a  law,  and 
that  law  to  have  a  fan6lion :  what  Q]{e  is  the  meaning  of 
the  fear  and  terror,  and  apprehenfion  of  guilty  perfons  ? 
Qiiorum  mentes  fe  recludantur,  &c.  fays  Cicero. 

Nor  is  this  all,  but  we  have  all  certainly  a  natural  fenfe 
of  dependance.  The  belief  of  a  divine  being  is  certainly 
either  innate  and  neceffary,  or  has  been  handed  down 
from  the  firft  man,  and  can  now  be  well  fupported  by  the 
cleareil  reafon.  And  our  relation  to  him  not  only  lays 
the  foundation  of  many  moral  fentiments  and  duties,  but 
compleats  the  idea  of  morality  and  law,  by  fubjecling  us 
to  him,  and  teaching  us  to  conceive  of  him,  not  only  as 
our  Maker,  preferver  and  benefactor,  but  as  our  righteous 
governor  and  fupreme  judge.  As  the  being  and  perfec- 
tions of  God  are  irrefragably  eflablilhed,  the  obligation  of 
duty  mufl  ultimately  reft  here. 

It  ought  not  to  be  forgotten  that  the  belief  or  appre- 
henfion  of  a  future  Hate  of  rewards  and  punifhments,  has 
been  as  univerfal  as  the  belief  of  a  deity,  and  feems  infepa- 
rable  from  it,  and  therefore  mufl  be  confidered  as  the  fanc- 
tion  of  the  moral  law.  Shaftfbury  inveighs  feverely 
againfl  this  as  mddng  man  virtuous  from  a  mercenary 
view  ;  but  there  are  two  ways  in  which  we  may  coafi^CJ' 


Moral  Philosophy.  595 

this  matter,  and  in  either  lipjht  his  obje6llons  have  little 
force.  (1.)  We  may  confider  the  primary  obligations  of 
virtue  as  founded  upon  a  fenfe  of  its  own  excellence, 
joined  with  a  fenfe  of  duty  and  dependance  on  the  fu- 
preme  being,  and  rewards  and  puniihments  as  a  feconda- 
ry  motive,  which  is  found  in  fa6l,  to  be  abfolutely  nccef- 
fary  to  reftrain  or  reclaim  men  from  vice  and  impiety.  Or 
(2.)  We  may  confider  that  by  the  light  of  nature  as  well 
as  by  revelation,  the  future  reward  of  virtue  is  confidered 
as  a  ftate  of  perfedl  virtue,  and  the  happinefs  is  reprefented 
as  arifmg  from  this  circumftance.  Here  there  is  nothing 
at  all  of  a  mercenary  principle,  but  only  an  expeftation 
that  true  goodnefs,  which  is  here  in  a  ftate  of  imperfe(^lion 
and  licible  to  much  oppofition,  ihall  then  be  improved  to 
the  higheft  degree,  and  put  beyond  any  poffibiiity  of 
change. 

We  may  add  to  thefe  obligations  the  manifeft  tendency 
of  a  virtuous  condu6l  to  promote  even  our  prefent  happi- 
nefs :  this  in  ordinary  cafes  it  does,  and  when  joined 
v«ath  the  fteady  hope  of  futurity,  does  in  all  cafes  produce 
a  happinefs  fuperior  to  what  can  be  enjoyed  in  the  prac- 
tice of  vice.  Yet  perhaps,  the  ftoics  of  old,  who  denied 
pain  to  be  any  evil,  and  made  the  wife  man  fuperior  to 
all  the  vicilTitudes  of  fortune,  carried  things  to  a  romantic 
and  extravagant  height.  And  fo  do  Ibme  perfons  in  mo- 
dern times,  who  fetting  afide  the  confideration  of  a  future 
ftate,  teach  that  virtue  is  its  own  reward.  There  are  ma- 
ny fttuations  in  which,  if  you  deprive  a  good  man  of  ihe 
hope  of  future  happinefs,  his  ftate  feems  ver}^  undefini- 
ble.  On  the  contrary,  fometimes  the  worftof  men  enjoy 
profperity  and  fuccefs  to  a  great  degree,  nor  do  they  feem 
to  have  any  fuch  remoi'fe,  as  to  be  an  adequate  puniih- 
ment  of  their  crimes.  If  any  fhould  infift,  that  a  good 
man  has  always  fome  comfort  from  within  and  a  bad 
man  a  felf-difapprobation  and  inv/ard  difquiet,  fuited  to 
their  chara6lers,  I  v/ould  fay  that  this  arifes  from  the  ex- 
pectation of  a  future  ftate,  and  a  hope  on  the  one  fide,  and 
fear  on  the  other,  of  their  condition  there. 

Thofe  who  declaim  fo  highly  of  virtue  being  its  own 
reward  in  this  life,  take  away  one  of  the  moft  confiderable 


294  Lectures  an 

arguments,  which  from  the  dawn  of  philofophy,  has  al- 
ways been  made  ufe  of,  as  a  proof  of  a  future  ftate,  viz. 
the  unequal  diftribution  of  good  and  evil  in  this  life. 
Befides  they  do  not  feem  to  view  the  ftate  of  bad  men 
properly.  When  they  talk  of  remorfe  of  confcience,  as 
a  fufficient  punifliment,  thtj  forget  that  this  is  feldom  to 
a  high  degree,  but  in  the  cafe  of  fome  grofs  crimes. 
Cruelty  and  murder,  frequent  ads  of  grofs  injuftice,  are 
fometimes  followed  with  deep  horror  of  confcience  ;  and  a 
courfe  of  intemperance  or  lufl  is  often  attended  with  fuch 
difmal  eftedls  upon  the  body,  fame  and  fortune,  that  thofe 
who  furvive  it  a  few  years,  are  a  melancholy  fpedlacle, 
and  a  burden  to  themfelves  and  others.  But  it  would  be 
very  loofe  morality,  to  fuppofe  none  to  be  bad  men,  but 
thofe  who  were  under  the  habitual  condemnation  of  con- 
fcience. On  the  contrary,  the  far  greater  part  are 
blinded  in  their  underftandings,  as  well  as  corrupt  in  their 
practice — They  deceive  themfelves,  and  are  at  peace. 
Ignorance  and  inattention  keep  the  multitude  at  peace. 
And  falfe  principles  often  produce  felf-juftification  and 
ill-founded  peace,  even  in  atrocious  crimes.  Even  com- 
mon robbers  are  fometimes  found  to  jiiftify  themfelves, 
and  fay — I  muft  live — I  have  a  right^to  my  fhare  of  provi- 
fion,  as  well  as  that  proud  fellow  that  rolls  in  his  chariot. 

The  refult  of  the  whole  is  that  the  obligation  to  virtue 
ought  to  take  in  all  the  following  particulars  :  A  fenfe  of 
its  own  intrinftc  excellence-^of  its  happy  confequences  in 
the  prefent  life — a  fenfe  of  duty  and  fubjedtion  to  the  Su- 
preme Being — and  a  hope  of  future  happinefs,  and  fear 
of  future  mifery  from  his  decifion. 

Having  confidered  the  reafonings  on  the  nature,  foun- 
dation and  obligation  of  virtue,  I  now  proceed  to  a  more 
particular  detail  of  the  moral  laws,  and  fhall  take  them, 
under  the  three  heads  formerly  mentioned,  Ethics,  Poli- 
tics and  Jurifprudence. 


Moral  Philosophy,  295 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E    VI. 

AS  to  the  firft  we  tnuft  begin  with  what  is  ufually  call- 
ed the  Hates  of  man,  or  the  feveral  lights  or  re- 
lations in  which  he  may  be  confidered,  as  laying  a  foun- 
dation  for  duty.  Thefe  dates  may  be  divided  into  two 
kinds — (i.)  Natural.     (2.)  Adventitious. 

The  natural  Hates  may  be  enumerated  thus  :  (i.)  His 
ftate  with  regard  to  God,  or  natural  relation  to  him. 
(2.)  To  his  fellow-creatures.  (3.)  Solitude  or  fociety. 
(4.)  Peace  or  war.  Perhaps  we  may  add  to  thefe  (5.)  His 
outward  provifion,  plenty  or  want. 

Thefe  are  called  natural  fiates,  becaufe  they  are  necef- 
fary  and  univerfal.  All  men  and  at  all  times  are  related 
to  God.  They  were  made  by  him,  and  live  by  his  provi- 
dence. We  muft  alfo  neceffarily  know  our  fellow-crea- 
tures, and  their  ilate  to  be  fimilar  to  ours  in  this  refpedt 
and  many  others.  A  man  muft  at  all  times  be  independ- 
ent or  connefted  wdth  fociety — at  peace  with  others,  or  at 
war — well  provided,  or  in  want. 

The  other  ftates  are  called  adventitious,  becaufe  they 
are  the  efFedt  of  choice  and  the  fruit  of  induftry,  as  mar- 
riage— family — mafter  and  fervant — particular  voluntary 
focieties — callings  or  profefTions — characters  or  abilities 
natural  and  acquired — offices  in  a  conftituted  fociety — 
property,  and  many  particular  modifications  of  each  of 
thefe. 

In  profecuting  the  fubjeCl  farther,  and  giving  an  analyfis 
of  the  moral  duties  founded  upon  thefe  ftates,  I  fliall  firft 
take  notice  of  our  relation  to  God,  with  the  proofs  of  his 
being  and  perfeClions,  and  then  confider  the  moral  laws 
under  three  heads ;  our  duty  to  God,  to  our  neighbor, 
and  to  ouifelves. 

I.  Our  duty  to  God.  To  this  place  I  have  referved 
what  was  to  be  faid  upon  the  proof  of  the  being  of  God, 
the  great  foundation  of  all  natural  religion  ;  without  which 
the  moral  fenfe  would  be.  weak  and  infufficient. 


296  Lectures  on 

The  proofs  of  the  being  of  God  are  generally  divided 
into  two  kinds,  (i.)  A  priori.  (2.)  A  pofleriori.  The 
fird  is,  properly  fpeaking,  metaphyfical  reafoning  down- 
ward from  the  firil  principles  of  fcience  or  truth,  and  in- 
ferring by  jidl  confequence  the  being  and  perfeftions  of 
God*  Clark's  Demonilration,  &c.  (if  there  be  any  thing 
that  fhould  be  called  a  priori,  and  if  this  is  a  conclufive 
method  of  reafoning)  is  as  complete  as  any  thing  ever 
publifhed,  perhaps  he  has  carried  the  principle  as  far  as 
it  will  go. 

This  way  of  arguing  begins  by  eflablifhing  our  own  ex- 
igence from  confcioufneis.  That  we  are  not  neceflarily 
exiltent,  therefore  muft  have  a  caufe  ;  that  fomething 
mufl  have  exifted  from  all  eternity,  or  nothing  ever  could 
have  exifted  ;  that  this  being  mufl  exifl  by  an  internal  ne- 
ceility  of  nature ;  that  what  exifts  neceflarily  muft  exift 
alike  every  where ;  muft  be  perfect ;  acl  every  where ; 
be  independent,  omnipotent,  omnifcient,  iniinitely 
good,  juft,  true — Becaufe  as  all  thefe  are  evidently 
perfe6lions  or  excellencies,  that  which  exifts  by  a  necef- 
lity  of  nature  muft  be  pofleffed  of  every  perfe(5lion.  And 
the  contrary  of  thefe  virtues  implying  wxaknefs  or  infuf- 
iiciency,  cannot  be  found  in  the  infinite  being. 

The  other  medium  of  proof,  commonly  called  a  pof- 
teriori,  begins  with  contemplating  the  univerfe  in  all  its 
parts ;  oblerving  that  it  contains  many  irrefiftible  proofs 
that  it  could  not  be  eternal,  could  not  be  widiout  a  caufe; 
that  this  caufe  muft  be  intelligent ;  and  from  the  aftonifh- 
ing  greatnefs,  the  wonderful  adjuitment  and  complica- 
tion of  things,  concludes  that  we  can  fet  no  bounds  to 
the  perfection  of  the  Maker,  becaufe  we  can  never  ex- 
hauft  the  power,  intelligence  and  benignity  that  we  fee 
in  his  works.  In  this  way  of  arguing  we  deduce  the 
moral  perfe6lions  of  the  deity  from  the  Icdnt  refemblances 
of  them  that  we  fee  in  ourfelves.  As  we  necelTarily  con- 
ceive juftice,  goodnefs,  truth,  &c.  to  be  perfedlions  or 
excellencies,  we  are  warranted  by  the  plaineft  reafon  to 
afcribe  them  to  the  divine  being  in  an  infinite  degree. 

There  is  perhaps  at  bottom  no  difference  between  thefe 
ways  of  reafoning,  becaufe  they  muft  in  fome  degree, 


Mofcd  Philosophy*  297 

reft  upon  a  common  principle,  viz.  that  every  thing  that 
exifls  mult  have  a  caufe.  This  is  equally  neceflary  to 
both  the  chains  of  reafoning,  and  mufi:  itfelf  be  taken 
for  an  original  fentiment  of  nature,  or  an  impreffion  ne- 
ceflarily  made  upon  us  from  all  that  we  fee  and  are  con- 
verfant  with.  About  this  and  fome  other  ideas  great  llir 
has  been  made  by  fome  infidel  writers,  particularly  Da- 
vid Hume,  who  feems  to  have  induftriouily  endeavored 
to  fhake  the  certainty  of  our  belief  upon  caufe  and  effedt, 
upon  perfonal  identity  and  the  idea  of  power.  It  is  eafy 
to  raife  metaphyfical  fubtleties,  and  confound  the  under- 
ftanding  on  fuch  fubjeQs.  In  oppofition  to  this,  fome  late 
writers  have  advanced  with  great  apparent  reafon,  that 
there  are  certain  iirft  principles  or  dictates  of  common 
fenfe,  which  are  either  fimple  perceptions,  or  feen  with 
intuitive  evidence.  Thefe  are  the  foundation  of  all 
reafoning,  and  without  them,  to  reafon  is  a  word 
without  a  meaning.  They  can  no  more  be  proved  than 
you  can  prove  an  axiom  in  mathematical  icience.  Thefe 
-authors  of  Scotland  have  la.tely  produced  and  fupported 
this  opinion,  to  refolve  at  once  all  the  refinements  and 
metaphyfical  obje6lions  of  fome  infidel  writers. 

There  is  a  different  fort  of  argument  often  made  ufe 
of,  or  brought  in  aid  of  the  others  for  the  being  of  God, 
viz.  the  confent  of  all  nations,  and  the  univerfal  prevalence 
of  that  belief.  I  know  not  whether  we  mult  fay  that  this 
argument  refts  alfo  upon  the  principle  that  nothing  can 
exilt  without  a  caufe,  or  upon  the  plan  jufi;  now  men- 
tioned. If  it  is  an  univerfal  dictate  of  our  nature,  we 
muff  take  it  as  true  immediately,  without  further  exami- 
nation. 

An  author  I  formerly  mentioned  has  fet  this  argument 
in  a  peculiar  light  (Dr.  Wilfon  of  Newcafile).  He  fays 
that  we  receive  all  our  knowledge,  as  philofophers  admit, 
by  fcnfation  and  reflection.  Now,  from  all  that  we  fee, 
and  all  the  reflection  and  abllradtion  upon  ii  we  are  ca- 
pable of,  he  affirms  it  is  impofiible  we  could  ever  form  the 
idea  of  a  fpirit  or  a  future  fiate.  They  have,  however, 
been  early  and  univerfal,  and  therefore  mult  have  been 
communicated  at  firft^  and  handed  down  by  informatijoa 

Vol.  IH.  P  p 


29?  Lectures  on  . 

and  iriRruclion  from  age  to  age.  So  that  unlefs  upon  the 
fuppofition  of  the  exigence  of  God  and  his  imparting  the 
knowledge  of  himfelf  ro  men,  it  is  impolTible  that  any  idea  ' 
of  him  could  ever  have  entered  into  the  human  .mind. 
There  is  fomething  ingenious  and  a  good  deal  of  proba- 
bility in  this  vv^ay  of  reafoning. 

As  to  the  nature  of  God,  the  firfl  thing  to  be  obferved 
is  the  unity  of  God.  This  is  fufficiently  eftablifhed 
upon  the  reafonings  both  apriori  and  poileriori.  If  thefe 
reafonings  are  juflfor  the  being  of  God,  they  are  ftri£lly 
conclufive  for  theunity  of  God.  There  is  a  neceffity  for 
the  exiflence  of  one  fupi'eme  being,  the  firft  caufe,  but 
no  neceffity  for  more  ;  nay,  one  iUpreme  independent 
being  does  not  admit  any  more.  And  when  we  view 
the  harmony,  order  and  unity  of  defign  \xi{  the  created 
fyflem,   we  mufl:  be  led  to  the  belief  of  the  unity  of  God. 

Perhaps  it  may  be  thought  an  objedlion  to  this  (efpe- 
pecially  if  we  lay  any  flrefs  on  the  univerfal  fentim.ents  of 
mankind,)  that  all  nations  have  been  fo  prone  to  the  be- 
lief and  worfhip  of  a  plurality  of  gods.  But  this  argu- 
ment is  rather  fpecious  than  folid ;  as  however  prone 
men  were  to  worfliip  local  inferior  deities,  they  feem 
to  have  confidered  them  only  as  intermediate  divinities 
and  intercefibrs  between  them  and  the  Supreme  God. 

The  perfections  of  God  may  be  divided  into  two- 
kinds,  Natural  and  Moral. 

I.  The  natural  perfedlions  of  God  are  fpirituality,  im- 
menfity^  wifdom  and  power. 

We  call  thefe  natural  perfections,  becaufe  they  can  be 
eafdy  diflinguifhed,  and  in  idea  at  leait  feparated,  from 
goodnefs  of  difpofition.  It  is  highly  probable  indeed  that 
fupreme  excellence,  natural  and  moral,  mull  always  re- 
fide  in  the  fame  fubje6l,  and  are  truly  infeparable  ;  yet  wc 
diftinguilli  them  not  only  becaufe  the  ideas  are  diflinft, 
but  becaufe  they  are  by  no  means  in  proportion  to  one 
another  in  inferior  natures.  Great  powers  of  mind  and 
perfection  of  body  are  often  joined  to  malignity  of  difpo- 
fition, It  is  not  fo  however  in  God ;  for  as  his  natural 
perfe(5tions  arc  founded  on  reafon,  {q  his  moral  excellence 


Moral  Philosophy.  299 

is  evidently  founded  in  the  nrioral  fenfe  or   confclence 
which  he  hath  implanted  in  us. 

Spirituality  is  what  v/e  may  call  the  "oery  7iature  of 
God.  It  muft  be  admitted  that  we  cannot  at  prefent  form 
any  complete  or  adequate  idea  of  a  fpirit.  And  fome, 
as  you  have  heard  formerly,  infill:  that  without  revelatiou 
we  could  never  have  acquired  the  idea  of  it  that  we  have. 
Yet  there  are  many  who  have  reafoned  in  a  very  ilrongand 
feeminoflv  conclufive  manner,  to  fliow  that  mind  or  in- 
telligence  muil  be  a  fubflance  altogether  diilincl  from 
matter.  That  all  the  known  properties  of  matter  are  in- 
capable of  producing  thought,  as  being  wholly  of  a  dif- 
ferent kind — that  matter  as  fuch  and  univerfally  is  inert 
and  divifible  ;  thought  or  intelligence,  a6live  and  uncom- 
pounded.  See  the  bed  reafoning  on  this  fubjedl  in  Bax- 
ter's Immateriality  of  the  Soul. 

Immenfity  in  the  Divine  Being  is  that  by  which  he  is 
€very  where,  and  equpJly  prefent.  Metaphyficians, 
however,  differ  greatly  upon  this  fubjecl.  The  Cartefi- 
answill  not  admit  that  place  is  at  all  applicable  to  fpirits. 
They  fay  it  is  an  idea  wholly  arifing  from  cxtenfion, 
which  is  one  of  the  peculiar  and  effential  qualities  of 
matter.  The  Nev/tonians,  however,  v/ho  make  fo  much 
ufe  of  the  idea  of  infinite  fpace,  confider  ])lace  as  eflen- 
ti'al  to  all  fubflance,  fpirit  as  well  as  matter.  The  diffi- 
culties are  great  on  both  fides.  It  is  hard  to  conceive  of 
fpirit  at  all,  feparating  from  it  the  qualities  of  matter, 
and  after  we  have  attempted  to  do  fo  it  feems  to  be  bring- 
ing them  back  to  talk  of  place.  And  yet  it  feems  not 
only  hard  but  impoffible  to  conceive  of  any  real  being 
without  fuppofing  it  in  fome  place,  and  particularly  upon 
the  immenfity  of  the  Deity,  it  feems  to  be  putting  cre- 
ated fpirits  too  much  on  a  level  with  the  infinite  fpirit  to 
deny  his  immenfity.  It  is  I  think  certain  they  are  either 
confined  to  a  place,  or  fo  limited  in  their  operations  as  is 
110  way  fo  well  exprefied  as  by  faying  we  are  here  and 
no  where  elfe.  And  in  this  fenfe  both  parties  rnufi:  ad- 
mit the  divine  immenfity— that  his  agency  is  equal,  uni- 
verfal  and  irrefdlible. 

'Wifdom'is  another  natural  attribute  of  God,  imply- 
ing; infinite  knowledge — ^that  all  thiof^s  in  all  their  rel a- 


300  Lectures  on 

tions,  all  things  exifling,  and  all  things  pofTible,  are  the 
objccls  of  the  divine  knowledge.  Wifdom  is  ufually 
confidered  as  refpedting  fome  end  to  be  attained,  and  it 
implies  the  clear  difcovery  of  the  beft  and  moft  effectual 
liieans  of  attaining  it. 

Power  is  the  being  able  to  do  all  things  without  limit 
orrellraint  The  omnipotence  of  God  is  always  confi- 
dered  as  an  elTentiai  perfediion,  and  feems  to  arife  imme- 
diately from  creation  and  providence.  It  is  common  to 
fay  that  God  can  do  all  things  except  fiich  as  imply  a 
Contradi6lion — fiich  as  to  make  a  thing  to  be  and  not  to 
be  at  the  fame  time  ;  but  this  is  unneceiTary  and  foolifl^ 
in  the  way  of  an  exception,  for  fuch  things  are  not  the 
objedls  of  povv'er  at  all.  They  are  mere  abfurdities  in 
our  conception  and  indeed  we  may  fay  of  our  own  cre- 
ation. All  things  are  poifible  with  God — nothing  can 
withftand  his  pov^er. 


LECTURE    VH. 

2d.  '^J^HE  moral  perfe6lions  of  God  are  holinefs,  juf- 
_f      tice,  truth,  goodnefs  and  mercy. 

Holinefs  is  fometimes  taken  in  a  general  and  compre- 
henfive  {txiiQ^  as  being  the  aggregate,  implying  the  pre- 
fence  of  all  moral  excellence  ;  yet  it  is  fometimes  ufed  and 
that  bodi  in  the  fcripture  revelation  and  by  heathen  wTiters 
as  a  peculiar  attribute.  In  this  limited  fenfe  it  is  ex- 
tremely difficult  to  define  or  explain.  Holinefs  is  that 
character  of  God  to  which  veneration,  or  the  moft  pro- 
found reverence  in  us,  is  the  correfpondent  afieftion.  It 
is  fometimes  alfo  expreffed  by  purity,  and  when  we  go 
to  form  an  idea  of  it  perhaps  we  can  fcarce  fay  any  thing 
better  than  that  it  is  his  being  removed  at  an  infinite  dif- 
tance  from  the  groffnefs  of  material  indulgence. 

Juftice  is  an  invariable  determination  to  render  to  all 
their  due.  Juftice  feems  to  be  founded  on  the  ftrong  and 
unalterable  perception  we  have  of  right  and  wrong,  good 
and  evil,  and  particularly  that  the  one  deferves  reward. 


Moral  Philosophy.  3  o  r 

and  the  other  puniihment.  The  internal  fan6lion,  or 
the  external  and  providential  fan6lion  of  natural  lavvs^ 
point  out  to  us  the  Juflice  of  God.  The  chief  thing  that 
merits  attention  upon  this  fubjedl  is  the  controverfy 
about  what  is  called  the  vindidlive  juflice  of  God.  That 
is  to  fay,  is  there  in  God,  or  have  we  a  natural  fenfe  of 
the  propriety  of,  a  difpofition  to  inflidl:  punifhment  in- 
dependent of  the  confequences,  viz.  the  reformation  of 
the  offender,  or  the  example  of  others.  This  loofe 
moralifls  often  declaim  againft.  Yet  it  feems  plain,  that 
the  fenfe  in  our  minds  of  good  and  ill  defert,  makes 
guilt  the  proper  object  of  punifliment  fimply  in  itfelf. 
This  may  have  a  relation  to  general  order  and  the  good 
of  the  whole,  which  however  is  out  of  our  reach. 

The  truth  of  God  is  one  of  his  perfections,  greatly 
infixed  upon  in  Scripture,  and  an  elTential  part  of  na- 
tural religion.  It  is  infeparable  from  infinite  perfe6lion  ; 
for  any  departure  from  truth  mufl:  be  confidered  as  arifmg 
from  weaknefs  or  neceffity.  What  end  could  be  ferved 
to  a  felf  fufEcient  and  all  fufEcient  being  by  falfehood  or 
deception. 

Goodnefs  in  God  is  a  difpofition  to  communicate  hap- 
pinefs  to  others.  This  is  eafily  underflood.  The  crea- 
tion is  a  proof  of  it — Natural  and  moral  evil  no  juft  ob- 
jection to  it,  becaufe  of  the  preponderancy  of  happinefs. 

Mercy,  as  diflinguifhed  from  goodnefs  or  benij^nity,  is 
his  being  of  a  placable  nature — Ready  to  forgive  the  guil- 
ty, or  to  remit  deferved  puniihment.  It  has  been  dis- 
puted how  far  mercy  or  placability  is  difcoverable  by  rea- 
fon.  It  is  not  mercy  or  forgivenefs,  unlefs  it  would  have 
been  jufl  at  the  fame  time  to  have  puniflied.  There  are 
but  two  ways  by  which  men  from  reafon  may  infer  the 
attribute  of  mercy  to  belong  to  the  Diety.  (i)  Becaufe  we 
Qurfelves  are  fenfible  of  this  difpofition,  and  fee  in  it  a 
peculiar  beauty.  (2)  From  the  forbearance  of  Providence 
that  fmners  are  not  immediately  overtaken  with  punifli- 
ment, but  have  fpace  given  them  to  repent. — Yet  as  all 
the  conclufions  drawn  from  thefe  principles  mufl:  be 
vague  and  general,  the  expectations  of  the  guilty  found- 
mi  upon  them,  inufl  \it  very  uncertain.     W^  mud  coiv, 


'^oi  l^ecturcs  on 

elude  therefore,  that  hovvever  flable  a  foundation  there  is 
for  the  other  attributes  of  God  in  nature  and  reafon, 
the  way  in  which,  and  the  terms  on  which,  he  will  lliew 
mercy,  can  be  learned  from  Revelation  only. 

Having  cohfidcred  the  being  and  perfedtions  of  God, 
we  proceed  to  our  duty  to  him. 

This  may  be  confidered  in  two  views,  as  general  and 
fpecial.  I.  By  the  firil  I  underftand  our  duty  to  obey 
him  and  fubmit  to  him  in  all  things.  This  you  fee  in- 
cludes every  branch  of  moral  duty  to  our  neighbor  and 
ourfelves,  as  well  as  to  God,  and  fo  the  particular  parts 
of  it  v;ill  be  confidered  afterwards.  But  in  this  place, 
confidering  every  good  aclicn  as  an  acl  of  obedience  to 
God,  we  will  a  little  attend  to  the  divine  fovereignty  and 
the  foundation  of  it. 

In  Ipeaking  of  the  foundation  of  virtue  I  took  in  a 
fenfe  of  dependance  and  fubjection  to  God. — But  as 
men  are  not  to  be  deterred  from  bold  inquiries,  a  further 
queftion  is  raifed  by  fome — v/hat  is  properly  the  founda- 
tion of  the  divine  dominion  ?  (i)  Some  found  it  dire<R:ly 
upon  Omnipotence.  It  is  impoifibie  to  refift  his  power. 
This  feems  to  lay  us  under  a  neceffity,  rather  than  to 
convince  us  of  duty.  We  ought  however,  to  think  and 
fpeak  of  this  fubje(5l  with  reverence,  and  certainl)^  Om- 
nipotence feems  to  oblige  us  to  adlual,  if  it  fliould  not 
bring  us  to  willing  obedience.  It  is  fomewhat  remark- 
able, that  in  the  book  of  Job,  compofed  ox\  purpofe  to 
refolve  fome  difEculties  in  providence,  where  God  is 
brought  in  as  fpeaking  himfelf  out  of  the  whirlwind,  he 
.makes  ufe  of  no  other  argument  than  his  tremendous 
majefty  and  irrefiftible  power.  Yet  to  reft  the  matter 
wholly  upon  this,  feems  much  the  fame  as  founding  vir- 
tue on  mere  will ;— -therefore  (2)  fome  found  the  divine 
dominion  on  his  infinite  excellence,  they  fay  it  is  the 
law  of  reafon  that  the  wifeft  fhould  rule,  and  therefore 
that  infinite  perfection  is  entitled  to  univerfal  fv/ay. 
Even  this,  taken  feparate  and  alone,  does  not  feem  wholly 
to  fatisfy  the  mind.  If  one  perfon  is  wifer  than  another, 
it  feems  reafonable  that  the  other  ihoukl  learn  of  him  and 
imitate  him  ;  but  it  fcarcely  feems  a  fufncie-nt   reafon  tli^ 


Moral  Philosophy.  ^o% 

the  firfl  fhould  have  abfohite  authority.  But  perhaps  the 
.weaknefs  of  the  argument,  taken  in  this  view,  mayarife 
from  the  inconfiderable  difference  between  man  and  man, 
when  compared  to  the  fuperiority  of  univerfal  and  unr 
changeable  perfedion.  (3)  Some  found  it  upon  creation. 
They  hy^  that  God  has  an  abfolute  property  in  ail  his 
creatures,  he  may  therefore  do  what  he  will  with  his 
own.  1'his  no  doubt,  goes  a  good  way,  and  carries  con- 
fiderable  force  with  it  to  the  mind,  the  rather  that,  as  you 
will  afterwards  fee,  it  is  fomething  fimilar  to  this  in  us, 
that  lays  the  foundation  of  our  moft  perfect  rights,  viz. 
That  tlie  product  of  our  own  indullry  is  properly  ajt 
our  own  difpofal. 

As  upon  the  fouiidation  of  virtue  T  thought  it  neceffary 
to  unite  the  principles  of  different  writers,  fo  upon  this 
fubject,  I  think  that  all  the  three  particulars  mentioned, 
ought  to  be  admitted,  as  the  grounds  of  the  divine  domi- 
nion. Omnipotence,  infinite  excellence,  and  the  origi- 
nal produ6lion  and  continual  prefervation  of  ail  crea- 
tures. 

2.  Our  duty  toGod  m.ay  be  confidered  more  fpecially^ 
as  it  points  out  the  duties  we  owe  immediately  to  himfelf. 

Thcfe  may  be  divided  into  internal  and  external. — 
^ft.  The  internal  are  all  included  under  the  three  follow- 
ing, love,  fear,  and  trufl. 

The  love  of  God,  which  is  the  firll  and  great  duty 
both  of  natural  and  revealed  religion,  may  be  explained 
in  a  larger  and  more  popular,  or  in  a  more  precile  and 
llri6ler  way. 

In  the  firfl,  love  may  be  refolved  into  the  four  follow- 
ing aiSls,  (i)  efteem,  (2)  gratitude,  (3)  Benevolence,  (4} 
defire. 

Thefe  four  will  be  found  infeparable  from  true  love ; 
and  it  is  pretty  much  in  the  fame  order,  that  the  acts 
fucceed  one  another.  Love  is  founded  on  efleem,  on  the 
real  or  fuppofed  good  qualities  of  the  obje6t.  You  can 
no  more  love  that  which  you  defpife  than  that  which  you 
hate.  Gratitude  is  alfo  infeparable  from  it,  to  have  a 
lively  fenfe  of  favors  received,  and  to  efteem  them  for 
t^ie  fake  of  the  perfon  from  whom  they  came.     BeaevO' 


304  Lectures  on 

lence  or  rejoicing  in  the  happinefs  and  wilhing  well  to  th^ 
obje6t.  And  lallly,  a  defire  of  a  place  in  his  efteem* 
Whatever  we  love,  we  defire  to  poflefs,  as  far  as  it  is  fuit- 
ed  to  our  faculties. 

The  ftridler,  and  more  precife  method  of  confidering 
the  love  of  God,  is  to  divide  it  into  two  branches,  bene- 
volence and  defire.  And  indeed  our  affedions  to  God 
feem  to  be  capable  of  the  fame  divifion  as  our  affedlion  to 
our  fellow-creatures,  benevolent  and  felfilh.  I  think  it 
undeniable,  that  there  is  a  difmterelled  love  of  God,  which 
terminates  diredly  upon  himfelf,  without  any  immediate 
view  to  our  own  happinefs — as  well  as  a  difcovery  of  our 
great  intereft  in  his  favor. 

The  fccond  great  duty  to  God,  is  fear ;  but  here  we 
mull  carefully  diftinguifh  this  afie6lion  from  one  which 
bears  the  name,  and  is  different  from  it — at  lead  in  a  mo- 
ral view  it  is  altogether  oppofite. — Dutiful  fear  is  what 
may  be  otherwife  called  veneration,  and  hath  for  its  ob- 
je6i  the  infinity  of  the  divine  perfection  in  general,  but 
particularly  his  majefty  and  greatnefs.  The  other  is 
merely  a  fear  of  evil  or  punifliment  from  him  :  thefe  are 
called  fometimes  a  filial  and  a  fervile  fear.  The  firfl  in* 
creafes,  as  men  improve  in  moral  excellence,  and  the 
other  is  deftroyed.  Perfe6l  love  cafleth  out  fear.  Per- 
haps however  oppofite,  as  they  have  the  fame  name,  they 
may  be  faid  to  be  the  fame  natural  affedtion,  only  as  it 
takes  place  in  innocent  or  holy,  and  in  guilty  creatures. 
The  fame  majelly  of  God,  which  produces  veneration  in 
the  upright,  produces  horror  and  apprehenfion  of  punifh- 
ment  in  the  guilty.  ^  ft^^*>? 

The  third  great  duty  is  truft.  This  is  a  continual  de- 
pendance  on  God  for  every  thing  we  need,  together  with 
an  approbation  of,  and  abfolute  refignation  to  his  pro- 
vidence. 

2.  The  external  duties  to  God,  I  fliall  briefly  pafs  over, 
being  only,  all  proper  and  natural  exprefTions  of  the  in- 
ternal fentiments. 

It  may  be  proper  however,  to  take  notice  in  general  of 
the  worfhip  due  to  God,  that  whether  we  confider  the  na- 
ture of  things,  or  the  univerfal  pradice  of  mankind,  in 


Moral  Philosophy i  '^oj 

all  ages,  worfliip,  and  that  not  only  private,  but  public 
and  focial  worfhip  is  a  duty  of  natural  religion. 

Some  of  the  enemies  of  revealed  religion,  have  fpoken 
with  great  virulence  againft  this,  as  unreafonable,  and  even 
dilhonorabie  to  the  Divine  Being.  The  fubftance  of  what 
they  fay,  is  this,  that  as  it  would  be  no  part  of  the  charac- 
ter of  an  eminent  and  good  man,  to  delire  and  take  plea- 
fure  in  others  praifmg  him  and  recounting  his  good  qua- 
lities, fo  it  is  abfurd  to  fuppofe,  that  the  Supreme  Being  is 
pleafed  with  incenfe,  facrifices  and  praifes.  But  it  ought 
to  be  obfcrved,  that  he  does  not  require  thefe  a£ls  and 
exercifes  as  any -gratification  to  himfelf,  but  as  in  them- 
felves  jufl  and  neceifary  and  fuited  to  the  relation  we  ftanci 
in  to  him,  and  ufeful  for  forming  our  temper  and  univer- 
fal  practice.  We  ought  alfo  to  remember,  that  we  mull 
not  immediately  and  without  difcrimination,  reafon  from 
what  would  be  praife  and  blame-worthy  among  men,  to 
what  would  be  jufl  or  unjuft  in  God,  becaufe  the  cir- 
cumflances  are  very  different.  Befides,  though  for  any 
man  to  defire  the  applaufe  of  his  fellow-creatures,  or  be 
pleafed  with  adulation,  would  be  a  mean  and  contempti- 
ble chara(^er,  becaufe  indeed  there  is  fuch  unfpeakable 
imperfection  in  the  bed  of  men,  yet  when  any  duty  or 
fentiment  is  fully  and  manifeflly  due  from  man  to  man, 
there  is  nothing  improper  or  difhonorable  inrequiringor  ex^^ 
pedting  it.  Thus  a  parent  requires  refpedt  and  fubmiffion 
from  his  children,  a  mafter  from  his  fervants ;  and  though  the 
injury  is  merely  perfonal,  he  thinks  himfelf  entitled  to  pu- 
niih  every  expreflion  of  contempt  or  difregard.  Again, 
every  man  who  has  bellowed  fignal  favors  upon  another, 
experts  to  fee  evidence  of  a  grateful  and  fenfible  mind, 
and  feverely  condemns  every  fentiment  or  adtion  that 
indicates  a  contrary  difpofition. 

On  the  whole  then,  we  fee  that  if  the  worfhip  of  God 
be  what  is  due  from  us  to  him  in  confequence  of  the 
relation  we  (land  in  to  him,  it  is  proper  and  neceflary  that 
he  fhould  require  it.  To  honor  God  is  to  honor  fupreme 
excellence ;  for  him  not  to  expect  and  demand  it,  v/ouki 
be  to  deny  himfelL 

Vol.  IIL  Q^  q 


TO  6  Lectures  on 


j> 


One  other  difficulty  I  fliall  touch  upon  a  little.  It  re- 
fpects  the  duty  of  prayer  ;  and  the  obje6lions  lie  equally 
againft  it  on  the  footing  of  natural  religion  and  revealed. 
The  obje(^ions  are  two.  (i.)  Why  does  God  who  perfectly 
knows  all  our  wants,  require  and  expert  prayer  before  he 
will  fupply  them  ?  To  this  I  would  anfwer  that  he  fup- 
plies  great  multitudes  of  our  wants  without  our  afliing  it ; 
and  as  to  his  requiring  the  duty  of  prayer,  I  fay  the  fame 
thing  as  of  worfhip  in  general ;  it  is  reafonable  and  necef- 
fary  to  exprefs,  and  to  increafe  upon  our  minds,  a  fenfe  of 
dependance,  and  thereby  lay  us  under  an  obligation  of 
properly  improving  what  we  receive.  (2.)  The  other 
obligation  is  with  regard  to  the  force  or  efficacy  of  prayer. 
Wny  it  is  faid  fhould  we  pray  when  the  whole  fyflem  of 
divine  providence  is  fixed  and  unalterable  ?  Can  we  pof- 
fibly  fuppofe  that  God  will  change  his  purpofes,  from  a 
regard  to  our  cries  or  tears  ?  To  this  fome  anfwer  no 
otherwife  than  as  before,  that  without  having  any  effedl 
upon  the  event,  it  has  only  an  effe6l  upon  our  minds,  in 
bringing  us  to  aright  temper.  Dr.  Leechman  of  Glafgow, 
in  his  difcoutfe  on  prayer,  makes  no  other  anfwer  to  this 
difficulty.  But  \  think  to  rell  it  here,  and  admit  that  it 
has  no  influence  in  the  way  of  caufality  upon  the  event, 
would  in  a  great  meafure  break  the  force  and  fervency  of 
prayer.  I  would  therefore  fay  further,  that  prayer  has  a 
real  efficacy  on  the  event,  and  juft  as  much  as  any  other 
fecond  caufe.  The  objection  arifes  from  going  beyond  our 
depth,  and  reafoning  from  the  unchangeable  purpofe  of 
God  to  human  actions,  which  is  always  unjuft  and  falla- 
cious.— However  unable  v/e  may  be  to  explain  it,  not- 
withftanding  the-  fixed  plan  of  providence,  there  is  a  real 
influence  of  fecond  caufes  both  natural  and  moral,  and  I 
apprehend  the  connedli on  between  caufe  andefFe6l  isfimilar 
in  both  cafes.  If  it  is  fixed  from  eternity  that  there-  Ihall  be  a 
plentiful  crop  upona  certain  field  I  knowthat  nothing  what- 
foever  can  prevent  it,  if  otherwife  the  effi^rts  of  the  whole 
creation  cannot  produce  it ;  yet  I  know  as  certainly  that, 
hypothetically,  if  it  is  not  ploughed  and  fown  there  will  be 
no  grain  upon  it,  and  that  if  it  be  properly  manured  and 
^relTed  it  will  probably  be  fruitful.     Thus  in  moral  mat- 


Moral  Philosophy,  3^7 

ters,  prayer  has  as  real  an  influence  in  procuring  the 
bleffing  as  ploughing  ancl  fowing  has  in  procuring  the 
crop  ;  and  it  is  as  confident  with  the  eilablifhed  order  of 
nature  and  the  certainty  of  events  in  the  one  cafe,  as  in 
the  other  :  for  this  reafon  the  itoical  fate  of  old,  was  called 
the  ignava  ratio  of  the  iloics,  as  diey  fometimes  made  ufe 
4)f  the  above  fallacious  reafoning. 


LECTURE    VIII. 

WE  come  now  to  our  duty  to  man.  This  may 
be  reduced  to  a  fhort  fum,  by  afcending  to  its 
principle.  Love  to  others,  fmcere  and  active,  is  the  fum 
of  our  duty. 

Benevolence,  I  formerly  obferved,  ought  not  to  be  con- 
fidered  as  the  whole  of  virtue,  but  it  certainly  is  the  prin- 
ciple and  fum  of  that  branch  of  duty  which  regards 
others. 

We  may  diftinguiih  between  (i)  particular  kind  affec- 
tion, and  (2)  a  calm  and  deliberate  good-will  to  all. — The. 
particular  kind  affections,  as  to  family,  friends,  country, 
feem  to  be  implanted  by  nature,  to  ftrengthen  the  general 
principle,  for  it  is  only  or  chiefly  by  doing  good  to  thofe 
we  are  particularly  related  to,  that  we  can  promote  the 
general  happinefs. 

Particular  kind  affedions  Ihould  be  reilrained  and  di- 
rected by  a  calm  good- will  to  all.  Wherever  our  attach- 
ments to  private  perfons  prevents  a  greater  good,  they  be*- 
come  irregular  and  exceffive. 

Some  think  that  a  calm  and  fettled  good  will  to  others, 
is  an  improvement  of  the  particular  affe£lions,  and  arifes 
from  the  more  narrow  to  the  more  extenfive  ;  from  fa- 
mily, friends,  country,  to  all  our  fellov^'  creatures.  But 
it  feems  more  reafonable  to  fay,  that  the  general  affedlion 
is  a  dictate  of  our  confcience  of  a  fuperior  kind.  If  it 
were  only  an  increafe  and  extenfion  of  the  private  affec- 
tion it  would  grow  more  v/eak,  as  the  dillance  from  our- 
ielves  increafed,  w^hereas  in  faCt  the  more  enlarged  affec- 
tions are  intended  to  be  more  povv  erful  than  the  confined 


308  Lectures  on 

When  we  are  fpeaking  of  kind  aiFedlions,  it  will  not 
be  improper  to  obferve  that  fome  unbelievers  have  ob- 
je6led  againfl:  the  gofpel,  that  it  does  not  recommend 
private  friendlhip  and  the  love  of  our  country.  But  if 
fairly  confidered,  as  the  Scripture,  both  by  example  and 
precept,  recommends  all  particular  afFe6lions,  fo  it  is  to 
its  honor  that  it  fets  the  love  of  mankind  above 
them  every  one,  and  by  fo  much  infilling  on  the 
iorgivenefs  of  injuries  and  the  love  of  enemies,  it  has 
carried  benevolence  to  its  greateft  perfection.  The  pa- 
rable of  the  Samaritan  in  anfwer  to  the  quellion,  who  is 
my  neighbor  ?  is  one  of  the  greateft  beauties  in  moral 
painting  any  where  to  be  feen. 

The  love  of  our  country  to  be  fure,  is  a  noble  and 
enlarged  affedion,  and  thofe  who  have  facrificed  private 
eafe  and  family  relations  to  it,  have  become  illuftrious, 
yet  the  love  of  mankind  is  ftill  greatly  fuperior.  Some- 
times attachment  to  country  appears  in  a  littlenefs  of 
mind,  thinking  all  other  nations  inferior,  and  foolifhly 
believing  that  knowledge  virtue  and  valor  are  all  confined 
to  themfelves.  As  the  Romans  long  ago  made  the  Pwiica 
fides  to  mean  deceit,  fo  there  are  not  wanting  among  us 
thofe  who  think  that  all  the  French  are  interelled, 
treacherous  and  cowardly. 

On  the  great  law  of  love  to  others,  I  fhall  only  fay 
further  that  it  ought  to  have  for  its  obje6l  their  greateft 
and  beft  intereft,  and  therefore  implies  wifhing  and  do- 
ing them  good  in  foul  and  body. 

It  is  neceflary  now  to  defcend  to  the  application  of 
this  principle  to  particular  duties,  and  to  examine  what 
are  the  rights  or  claims  that  one  man  has  upon  another. 
Rights  and  obligations  are  correlative  terms.  Whatever 
others  have  a  juft  right  or  title  to  claim  from  me,  that  is 
jny  duty,  or  what  I  am  obliged  to  do  to  them. 

Right  in  general  may  be  reduced,  as  to  its  fource,  to  the 
fupreme  law  of  moral  duty ;  for  whatever  men  are  in 
duty  obliged  to  do,  that  they  have  a  claim  to,  and  other 
inen  are  confidered  as  under  an  obligation  to  permit  them. 
Again,  as  our  own  haj^pinefs  is  a  lawful  obje6l  or  end, 
■^:q  are  fuppofed  to  have  each  a  right  to  profecute  this ; 


Moral  Philosophy.  309 

but  as  our  profccutions  may  interfere  we  limit  each 
others  rights,  and  a  man  is  faid  to  have  a  right  or  power 
to  promote  his  own  happinefs  by  thofe  means  which  arc 
not  in  themfelves  criminal  or  injurious  to  others. 

Rights  may  be  divided  or  clafled  in  feveral  dilFerent 
ways  ;  an  attention  to  all  of  which  is  of  ufe  on  this  fub- 
jedl.  Rights  may  be  (i)  natural  or  acquired.  Natural 
rights  are  fuch  as  are  eflential  to  man,  and  unlverfal — 
acquired  are  thofe  that  are  the  fruits  of  induflry,  the  ef- 
fects of  accident  or  conqueft.  A  man  has  a  natural  right 
to  a6t  for  his  own  prefervation  and  to  defend  himfelf 
from  injury,  but  not  a  natural  right  to  domineer,  to  riches 
(comparatively  fpeaking)  or  to  any  particular  ofiice  in  a 
conftituted  Hate. 

(2.)  Rights  are  confidered  as  perfe6l  and  imperfecl. 
Thofe  are  called  perfe6l  rights  which  can  be  clearly  af- 
certained  in  their  cir  cum  fiances,  and  which  we  may  make 
ufe  of  force  to  obtain  when  they  are  denied  us.  Imper- 
fedt  rights  are  fuch  as  we  may  demand,  and  others  ought 
to  give  us,  yet  we  have  no  title  to  compel  them.  Self- 
prefervation  is  a  perfect  right,  but  to  have  a  grateful  re- 
turn for  a  favor  is  not  a  perfect  right. 

All  the  duties  of  juflice  are  founded  on  the  perfedt 
rights  ;  thofe  of  mercy  generally  on  the  imperfect  rights. 

The  violation  of  an  imperfect  right  is  often  as  great 
an  a£t  of  immorality  as  that  of  a  perfe6t  right.  It  is  of. 
ten  as  immoral,  or  more  fo,  to  refufe  to  fupply  the  necefli- 
tous,  or  to  do  it  too  fparingly,  as  to  commit  a  fmall  in- 
jury againft  a  man's  perfon  or  fortune.  Yet  the  lafl  is 
the  breach  of  a  perfect  right,  and  the  other  of  an  imper* 
fed. 

Human  laws  reach  only,  in  ordinary  cafes,  to  the  per- 
fect rights.  Sometimes  imperfect  rights  by  being  car- 
ried far  become  perfeft,  as  humanity  and  gentlenefs  in 
a  parent  to  a  child  may  be  fo  grofsly  violated  as  to  war- 
rant the  interpofition  of  human  authority. 

(3.)  Rights  are  alienable  and  unalienable.  The  firft 
we  may,  according  to  juitice  and  prudence,  furrender  or 
give  up  by  our  own  a£t ;  the  others  we  may  not.  A  man 
may  give  avv^ay  his  own  goods,  lands,  money.     There- 


3IO  JLecturts  on 

iare  feveral  things  which  he  cannot  give  away,  as  a  right 
over  his  own  knowledge,  thoughts,  &:c.  Others  which  he 
ought  not,  as  a  right  to  judge  for  himfelf  in  all  matters 
of  religion,  his  right  to  felf-prefervation,  provifion,  Sec. 
Some  fay  that  liberty  is  unalienable,  and  that  thofe  who 
have  even  given  it  away  may  lawfully  refume  it. 

The  difiin6lion  between  rights  as  alienable  and  unalie- 
nable is  very  different  from  thatof  natural  and  acquired. 
Many  of  the  rights  which  are  flri^lly  natural  and  univer- 
fal  may  be  alienated  in  a  ftate  of  fociety  for  the  good  of 
the  whole  as  well  as  of  private  perfons  ;'as  for  example,  the 
right  of  felf-defence  ;  this  is  in  a  great  meafure  given  up 
in  a  ftate  of  civil  government  into  the  hands  of  the  pub- 
lic— and  the  right  of  doing  judice  to  ourfelves  or  to  others 
in  matters  of  property,  is  wholly  given  up. 

(4.)  Rights  maybe  confidered  as  they  differ  with  re- 
gard to  their  object,  i.  Rights  we  have  over  our  own 
perfons  and  a6lions.  This  clafs  is  called  liberty.  2.  Rights 
over  things  or  goods  which  belong  to  us.  This  is  called 
property.  3.  Rights  over  the  perfons  and  anions  of 
other  men.  This  is  called  authority.  4.  Rights  in  the 
things  which  are  the  property  of  others,  which  are  of  fe- 
veral forts. 

When  we  come  to  the  fecond  great  divifion  of  moral 
philofophy,  politics,  the  above  diftindlions  will  be  more 
fully  explained — at  prefent  it  is  fufficient  to  point  at  them 
in  order  to  Ihow  what  are  the  great  lines  of  duty  from 
man  to  man. 

Our  duty  to  others,  therefore,  may  be  all  comprehended 
in  thefe  two  particulars,  juilice  and  mercy. 

Jullice  confiils  in  giving  or  permitting  others  to  enjoy 
whatever  they  have  a  perfed;  right  to — and  making  fuch 
an  ufe  of  our  own  rights  as  not  to  encroach  upon  the 
rights  of  others.  There  is  one  writer,  David  Hume, 
who  has  derided  the  duty  of  juilice,  refolving  it  wholly 
into  power  and  conveniency,  and  has  affirmed  that  pro- 
perty is  common,  than  which  nothing  can  be  more  con- 
trary to  reafon  ;  for  if  there  is  any  thing  clear  as  a  di6late 
of  reafon,  it  is,  that  there  are  many  rights  which  men 
feverally  poffefs,  which  others  ought  not  to  violate.    The 


Moral  Philosophy,  311: 

foundation  of  property  in  goods,  I  will  afterwards  fhow 
you  is  plainly  laid  in  the  fecial  ftate. 

Another  virtue  which  this  author  ridicules  is  chaftity. 
This  however  will  be  found  to  be  included  in  juflice, 
and  to  be  found  in  the  fentiments  of  all  nations,  and  to 
have  the  cleared  foundation  both  in  nature  and  public 
utility. 

Mercy  is  the  other  great  branch  of  our  duty  to  man, 
and  is  the  exercife  of  the  benevolent  principle  in  gene- 
ral, and  of  the  feveral  particular  kind  affections.  Its  adts, 
generally  fpeaking,  belong  to  the  clafs  of  imperfedl  rights^ 
which  are  flrongly  binding  upon  the  confcience,  and  ab- 
folutely  neceffary  to  the  fubfillence  of  human  fociety  ;  yet 
fuch  as  cannot  be  enforced  with  rigor  and  precifion  by 
human  laws. 

Mercy  may  be  generally  explained  by  a  readinefs  to  do 
all  the  good  offices  to  others  that  they  Hand  in  need  of, 
and  are  in  our  power,  unlefs  they  are  oppofed  to  fomtr 
perfec^t  right,  or  an  imperfe6l  one  of  greater  moment. 


L  E  C  T  U  R  E    IX. 

***  jL  he  third  clafs  of  moral  duties  is  what  contains 
our  duty  to  ourfelves. 

This  branch  of  duty  is  as  real  and  as  much  founded  in 
the  moral  principle,  as  any  of  the  former — Confcience  as 
clearly  teftifies  the  evil  of  negle6ling  it — and  vicious 
conduct  in  this  refpeCldoes  generally  lead  us  diredlly  not 
only  to  mifery,  but  to  fhame. 

We  may,  I  think,  divide  our  duties  to  ourfelves  into  twa 
heads,  which  will  be  both  diftindt  and  comprehenfive, 
(i.)  Self-government.     (2.)  Self-intereft. 

The  firlt  of  thefe  is  to  keep  our  thoughts,  defires  and 
afFedVions,  in  due  moderation.  If  it  be  alked  what  is  due 
moderation,  I  anfwer  it  may  be  difcovered  three  ways. 
I.  When  the  indulgence  interferes  with  our  duty  to  God, 
(2.)  To  ourfelves,  and,    (3,)  To  our  neighbor.. 


12  Lectures  on 


When  our  thoughts  or  defires  are  fuch  as  to  be  contra- 
ry to  the  love  ,fcar,  or  truft  we  owe  to  God,  then  they  are 
to  be  reltrained  and  brought  into  fubje6lion — Thus  are 
generated  the  virtues  of  humility y  contentment^  patience^ 
and  fuch  as  are  allied  to  them. 

When  our  thoughts  and  inward  temper  are  fuch  as  to 
be  any  way  injurious  to  others,  they  mull  be  gov.erned 
and  rellrained ;  hence  arifes  the  obligation  to  guard  ^gainft 
all  the  immoral  paffions,  which  will  produce  meeknefs  and 
compofure  of  fpirit. 

And  when  we  have  got  but  a  little  experience  we  Ihall 
fpeedily  find  that  an  exceflive  indulgence  of  any  paffion, 
lo^e^  hatred^  anger^  fear^  difcompofes  us  exceedingly, 
and  is  an  evil  inftead  of  ableffing.  We  fhall  therefore 
perceive  the  neceffity  of  continence,  felF-denial,  fortitude, 
reftraint,  and  moderation  in  every  thing  how  good  foever. 
(2.)  The  other  general  branch  of  duty  to  ourfelves  may 
be  called  felf-intereft.  This,  taking  in  natural  religion, 
includes  our  relation  to  the  Divine  Being,  and  attending 
particularly  to  that  of  procuring  his  favor.  Therefore 
it  is  a  prime  part  of  our  duty  to  ourfelves,  to  guard 
againft  any  thing  that  may  be  hurtful  to  our  moral  cha- 
radler,  or  religious  hopes. 

2.  We  ought  to  be  adlive  and  diligent  in  acquiring 
every  thing  neceflary  for  life  and  comfort.  Moft  of  our 
duties  to  ourfelves,  refemble  the  duties  of  jullice  and 
mercy  to  others.  If  there  are  certain  offices  due  to  them, 
and  if  they  have  rights  and  claims  in  confequence  of 
their  ftate  and  relations,  the  fame  is  the  cafe  with  our- 
felves. We  are  therefore  to  take  all  proper  methods 
to  preferve  and  acquire  the  goods  both  of  mind  and  body. 
To  acquire  knowledge,  to  preferve  health,  reputation, 
polTeflions. 

The  whole  mull  be  kept  within  fome  limits ;  chiefly 
we  mull  guard  againft  interfering  with  the  rights  of 
others. 

It  will  be  proper  before  concluding  this  part  of  the  fub- 
jedl,  to  take  notice  of  the  opinions  of  the  ancients,  par- 
ticularly their  enumeration  of  wliat  are  called  the  cardi- 
nal virtues. 


Moral  Philosophy. 


Their  cardinal  virtues  were  justice^  temperance^  pru- 
dence^ ?cci(}i  fortitude,  Juflice  included  the  whole  of  our 
duty  to  our  neighbor.  Humanity  or  benevolence  you 
fee  is  kept  out  of  view,  though  a  virtue  of  the  firft  clafs  ; 
but  all  its  exercifes  are  with  them  ranked  under  the  heads 
of  juflice  ;  temperance  was  by  them  confidered  as  much 
more  extenfive  than  being  moderate  in  the  life  of  meats 
and  drink,  to  which  the  Englifli  word  is  chiefly  confined. 
The  Eyxp^TE/a  of  the  Greeks  fignified  not  only  abilinence  in 
meats  and  drink,  but  continence  or  purity,  and  a  mode- 
ration of  all  our  defires  of  whatever  kind,  of  fame  and 
riches,  as  well  as  pleafures.  Prudence,  even  in  the.  way 
they  generally  explain  it,  feems  fcarcely  to  be  a  moral,  or 
^o  much  as  a  natural  quality.  Prudence  they  fay  is  taking 
the  wifefl  courfe  to  obtain  fome  good  end.  The  placing 
this  among  the  cardinal  virtues  will  fliow  how  matters 
ftood  among  them.  Great  parts  or  talents  were  in  high 
efleem  among  them.  They  did  not  very  fully  diilinguiili 
between  a  good  man,  and  great  man.  Prudence  Icems 
rather  an  embelliflim.ent  of  an  illullrious  character,  than 
a  moral  virtue.  Another  reafon  wdiy  Prudence  feems  to 
have  held  fuch  a  place  among  the  ancients  was,  that 
their  chief  foundation  for  virtue  wasinterefl,  or  what  v/ill 
produce  happinefs.  The  inquiry  upon  this  fubje6l  was, 
what  is  the  fummurn  bonum.  Now  to  this,  prudence  is 
very  neceifary.  Agreeably  to  all  this  they  commonly 
called  the  virtuous  man,  the  %mse  man^  and  he  was  al- 
ways an  hero. 

Fortitude  is  eafily  underflood,  and  may  be  confidered 
in  two  lights,  as  adlive  and  paffive,  which  gives  the  two 
great  virtues  of  patience  and  valor. 

One  of  the  mod  remarkable  qualities  in  morals  among 
the  ancients,  was  the  debate  upon  the  Stoical  pofttion, 
that  pain  is  no  evil,  nor  pleafure  any  good.  This  arifes 
from  comparing  external  things  with  the  temper  of  the 
mind,  when  it  appears  without  doubt  that  the  latter  is  of 
much  more  confequence  to  happinefs  than  the  former. 
They  ufed  to  reafon  thus, — Outward  poiTefTions  when  be- 
ftov/ed  upon  a  bad  man,  make  him  no  better  but  worfe, 
and  finally   more  miferable.     How  then  can  thefe  b^ 

Vol.  IJ'L  R  r 


314  Lectures  on 

goods  in  themielv^is,  which  become  good  or  evil,  accord- 
ing to  theilateof  him  that  ufesthem.  They  were  there- 
fore called  thq  things  indifferent.  There  was  fomething 
Urained  and  extravagant  in  fome  of  their  writings,  and 
perhaps  oftentatioiis,  yet  a  great  deal  of  true  and  juil 
reafoning.  The  mod  beautiful  piece  of  antiquity  in  the 
moral  way,  is  the  Tablature  of  Gebes. 

Let  us  now  recapitulate  what  we  have  gone  through, 
and  then  add  fome  obfervations  or  corrolaries  on  the  mo- 
rality of  actions.     We  have  confidered, 

1.  The  nature  of  man. 

2.  The  nature,  foundation,  and  obligation  of  virtue. 

3.  Have  given  a  fort  of  general  analyfis  of  the  moral 
lav;s  as  pointing  out  our  duty  to  God,  to  our  neighbor, 
and  ourfelves. 

We  mull  now  confider  all  morality  in  general  as  con- 
formity to  a  law.  We  have  feen  above  whence  this  law 
is  colle6led,  and  derives  its  authority.  Men  may  differ, 
not  only  as  to  the  foundation  but  as  to  the  import  or 
meaning  of  the  law  in  fome  particulars,  but  it  is  always 
fuppofed  that  the   law  exifls. 

The  morality  of  actions  may  be  confidered  in  two  dif- 
ferent lights  but  thefe  very  nearly  related  to  each  other, 
(i)  As  they  are  ranked  and  difpofed  of  by  the  law 
itfelf  (2)  in  the  conformity  or  oppofition  of  the  adions 
to  the  law. 

Under  the  firfl  view  an  adlion  is  eidier  commanded, 
forbidden,  or  permitted. 

Commanded  duties  oblige  abfolutely,  and  as  cafuifls 
lifed  to  fay,  semper  non  vero  ad  semper^  that  is  to  to  fay, 
they  are  obligatory  upon  all  perfons^  at  the  feafons  that 
are  proper  for  them,  but  not  upon  every  perfon  at  every 
time  ;  becaufe  then  there  could  be  but  one  moral  duty, 
all  men  are  obliged  to  worfliip  God,  but  this  only  at 
certain  times,  other  duties  have  alfo  their  place  and  fea- 
fon. 

Prohibitions  oblige  semper  ad  semper^  all  perfons 
at  all  times. — We  mull  not  lie — this  obliges  every  man 
at  every  moment,  becaufe  no  time  or  circumftances  can 
make  it  lawful. 


Moral  Philosophy.  315 

On  permiffion  we  may  obferve  feveral  things. 

1.  There  is  (as  fome  fay,)  a  two-fold  permiffion,  the 
one  full  and  abfolute,  which  not  only  gives  us  a  right 
to  certain  things  with  impunity,  but  implies  a  pofitive 
approbation  of  the  legiflator,  and  the  other  implies  only 
that  the  a6tion  is  left  at  large,  being  neither  commanded 
nor  forbidden. 

2.  Permiffion  in  natural  laws  always  implies  the  ap- 
probation of  the  legiflator,  and  whatever  is  dojne  in  con- 
fequence  of  it,  is  innocently  done,  for  Goc^  and  con- 
fcience  does  not  permit  or  pafs  uncondemnned  any  bad 
adlion. 

3.  It  is  otherwife  in  human  laws,  if  they  leave  any 
action  open,  it  may  be  done  with  impunity,  and  yet  by 
no  means  with  approbation.  I  may  have  a  right  by 
human  laws  to  fay  things  in  a  covered  or  couched  man- 
ner, which  yet  may  carry  in  them  the  highefl  degree  of 
malignity. 

4.  The  truth  is  when  we  confider  the  morality  of 
action  in  a  flri(^t  or  proper  manner,  the  whole  clafs  of 
permitted  a<^ions  vanifhes.  They  become  by  their  in- 
tention and  application  either  good  or  bad* 

Confidering  a(5lions  in  their  conformity  to  the  laws,  a 
diflin6lion  arifes  fimilar  to  the  former,  into  good  or  juH, 
bad  and  indifferent. 

A  good  a6lion  mufl  be  wholly  conformable  to  the  law 
in  its  fubflance,  and  in  all  its  circumflances.  It  is  not 
enough  that  it  be  materially  good,  the  time  mufl  be  pro- 
per, and  the  intention  laudable. 

A  bad  a6lion  is  that  which  either  in  fubflance  or  in 
any  circumflance  is  contrary  to  the  law. 

In  confequence  of  this,  flrictly  and  properly  fpeaking, 
all  truly  good  or  jufl  adlions  are  equally  fo,  arifing  from 
a  perfedl  conformity  to  the  law,  as  all  flraight  lines  are 
equally  flraight,  but  all  bad  adlions  are  not  equally  bad, 
as  lines  may  be  bent  in  a  different  degree  from  the  flraight 
direction. 

Indifferent  actions,  (if  there  are  any  truly  fuch,)  ar© 
thofe  that  are  permitted,  and  neither  commanded  nor 
forbidden  by  the  law,  but  when  we  confider   the  fpirit 


2^i6  Lectures  m 

and  principles  of  true  morality,  we  fhall  find  no  actions 
wholly  indifferent,  becaufe  we  are  under  an  obligation 
to  promote  the  happinefs  of  ourfelves  and  others,  to 
which  every  adVion  may  be  applied  immediately  or  re- 
motely  ;  and  fubjeclion  to  the  Divine  will  may  make  a 
part  of  our  defign  in  doing  or  forbearing  any  thing  what- 
ever. 

In  eflimatlng  the  morality  of  adliions  feveral  circum- 
ftances  mufl  be  confidered,  (i)  the  good  done  (2)  the 
principle  from  which  it  flows, — felf-intereft  of  the  con- 
tra£lecl  kind,  benevolence  or  hope  of  reward.  (3)  The 
hindrances  or  oppofition  that  mufl:  be  furmounted,  as 
interell,  inclination,  difficulty.  An  objedlion  feems  to 
arife  from  this,  not  eafdy  folved.  If  an  a6lion  is  the  more 
virtuous,  the  more  oppofition,  internal  and  external,  that 
is  overcome,  then  the  longer  a  man  has  had  the  habit  of 
virtue,  and  the  more  completely  it  is  formed,  the  lefs 
merit  in  his  anions.  It  feems  alfo  to  take  away  all  mo- 
ral excellence  from  the  Deity,  who  cannot  be  fuppofed 
to  have  the  V^afl:  oppofition  to  encounter  either  from  within 
or  without.  This  objection  cannot  be  eafily  removed,  but 
hy  faying,  that  the  oppofition  is  in  no  other  refpedl  an 
evidence  of  the  good  moral  temper,  but  as  it  Ihows  the 
llrength  of  that  inclination  that  overcomes  it^  and  there- 
fore, when  a  moral  habit  is  fo  flrong  as  to  overcome  and 
annihilate  all  oppofition,  it  is  fo  much  the  more  excel- 
lent. 

An  a6tion  good  in  itfelf,  maybe  made  criminal  by  an 
evil  intention. 

But  no  action,  in  itfelf  evil,  can  be  made  lawful  or 
laudable  by  a  good  intention. 

A  man  is  obliged  to  follow  the  dictates  of  confcience  ; 
yet  a  miilaken  confcience  does  not  v/holly  abfolve  from 
guilt,  becaufe  he  ought  to  have  been  at  more  pains  to  ob- 
tain information. 

An  adlion  is  not  virtuous  in  proportion  to  its  oppofitc 
being  vicious.  It  is  no  high  degree  of  virtue  to  love  our 
offspring,  or  provide  for  a  family  ;  but  to  negle<5l  either  is 
exceedingly  vicious. 


Moral  Philosophy,  317 

One  phenomenon  in  human  nature,  nearly  connected 
with  the  moral  feehngs,  has  been  particularly  confidered 
by  Ibme  writers,  viz.  that  there  is  fuch  a  difpofition  in 
the  generality  of  men  to  croud  to  fee  objects  of  diftrefs, 
as  an  extraordinary  public  execution.  What  is  the  de- 
fire  that  prompts  to  it  ?  Is  the  fight  of  mifery  a  pleafant 
feeling  ?  Some  relolve  it  merely  into  curiofity,  which 
they  confider  as  a  natural  and  original  impreflion.  But 
'there  feems  to  be  fomething  in  it  different  from  novelty. 
Others  fay  it  arifes  from  benevolence,  and  is  an  exer- 
cife  of  compaflion,  and  that  we  have  a  ftrong  natural  im- 
•pulfe  to  the  affection  of  pity,  and  really  feel  a  pleafure  in 
indulging  it.  But  though  every  well  difpofed  mind  is 
highly  fufceptible  of  piiy,  at  leafl  of  all  the  benevolence 
and  help  that  pity  fuggells  when  the  objeft  prefents  itfelf, 
we  can  fcarcely  fay  that  the  feeling  is  pleafant,  or  that  we 
have  a  defire  after  fuch  objeds,  in  order  to  the  gratifica- 
tion. 

They  who  reafon  on  the  felfifli  fcheme,  as  ufual,  refolve 
all  into  private  intereft;  they  fay  we  delight  to  fee  obje6ls  of 
diftrefs,  becaufe  it  gives  us  a  fecret  fatisfa6tion  in  reflect- 
ing upon  our  own  different  fituation.  I  believe  there  is 
fuch  a  fatisfadlion  in  narrow  and  contracted  minds  ;  but  to 
thofe  tolerably  difpofed  it  has  an  oppofite  effe<5t ;  it  makes 
them  rather  confider  the  calamities  which  they  themfeives 
^re  fubjeCt  to,  than  thofe  from  which  they  are  free. 

Perhaps  it  would  be  beft  to  take  more  than  one  princi- 
ple to  account  for  this  effect — curiofity  muft  make  a  part, 
and  probably  humanity  and  compaffion,  alfo  contribute 
to  it.  It  feems  to  be  thought  fome  little  alleviation  to  the 
iufferer's  mifery  when  others  pity  him — Yet  prudent 
perfons  knowing  how  unavailing  this  pity  is,  often  choofe 
to  be  abfent. 

Sympathy  is  a  particular  affection  in  aid  of  benevolence — 
Vet  like  all  other  private  affections,  when  it  is  not  mode- 
rated, it  prevents  its  own  effeCt — One  deeply  affeCted  with 
the  view  of  an  objeCt  of  diftrefs,  is  often  thereby  incapaci- 
tated to  affift  him. 

Another  queftion  is  fometimes  fiibjoined  to  the  above, 
whv  men  have  pleafure  in  feeino;  Tra^iecly  which  is  a  ftr!- 


3i8  Lectures  on 

king  reprefentation,  of  a  melancholy  catallrophe.  As  far 
as  the  fubjed  diifers  from  Comedy,  it  may  be  accounted 
for  on  the  fame  principles  with  the  defire  to  fee  objeds  of 
diilrefs — But  one  powerful  principle  leads  both  to  Come- 
dy and  Tragedy — a  pleafure  in  the  imitative  arts,  an  ex- 
ad  portrait  of  any  objed  whatever  gives  the  higheft  plea- 
fure, even  though  the  object  itfelf  were  originally  terrible 
or  difgufting. 

We  fee  plainly,  that  an  indulgence  of  the  pleafure 
given  by  a  fine  performance  is  what  crowds  the  theatre. 
Unhappily,  to  give  greater  pleafure  to  a  corrupt  mind, 
they  often  invent  fuch  fcenes,  and  condud  the  matter 
fo,  as  to  make  the  flage  the  greatelt  enemy  to  virtue  and 
good  morals. 


LECTURE    X. 

Of  Politics. 

(OLITICS  contain  the  principles  of  focial  union, 
and  the  rules  of  duty  in  a  Ihite  of  fociety. — This 
is  but  another  and  more  complete  view  of  the  fame 
things  drawn  out  more  fully,  and  applied  to  particular 
cafes.  Political  law  is  the  authority  of  any  fociety  flampt 
upon  moral  duty. 

The  firil  thing  to  be  confidered,  in  order  to  fee  upon 
what  principles  fociety  is  formed,  is  the  flate  immediately 
previous  to  the  focial  flate.  This  is  called  the  flate  of 
nature — Violent  and  unneceffary  controverfies  have  been 
made  on  that  fubjed.  Some  have  denied  that  any  fuch 
thing  ever  exifted,  that  lince  there  were  men,  they  have 
always  been  in  a  focial  ilate.  And  to  be  fure,  this  is  fo 
far  true,  that  in  no  example  or  iad,  could  it  ever  lali  long. 
Yet  it  is  impofiible  to  coniider  fociety  as  a  voluntary  union 
of  particular  perfons,  without  fupponng  thofe  perfons  in  , 
a  Itate  fomewhat  different,  before  this  union  took  place — ■ 
There  are  rights  therefore  belonging  to  a  fialc  of  nature, 
diflercnt  from  thofe  of  a  focial  llatc. 


Moral  Philosophy,  319 

And  diftln^l  focieties  or  ftates  independent,  are  at  this 
moment  in  a  ftate  of  nature,  or  natural  liberty,  with  re- 
gard to  each  other. 

Another  famous  queftion  has  been,  Is  the  flate  of  nature 
a  flate  of  war  or  peace  ?  Hobbes,  an  author  of  corifidera- 
ble  note,  but  of  very  illiberal  fentiments  in  politics,  is  a 
flrenuous  advocate  for  a  ftate  of  nature  being  a  flate  of 
war.  Hutchinfon  and  Shaftfbury  plead  ftrongly,  that  a 
H  flate  of  nature  is  a  flate  of  fociety.  However  oppofite 
and  hoftile  their  opinions  feem  to  be  with  regard  to  each 
other,  it  feems  no  hard  matter  to  reconcile  them.  That 
the  principles  of  our  nature  lead  to  fociety — that  our  hap- 
pinefs  and  the  improvement  of  our  powers  are  only  to  be 
had  in  fociety,  isofthe  mofl  undoubted  certainty — and  that 
in  our  nature,  as  it  is  the  v/ork  of  God,  there  is  a  real 
good-will  and  benevolence  to  others :  but  on  the  other 
hand,  that  our  nature  as  it  is  now,  when  free  and  inde- 
pendent,  is  prone  to  injury,  and  confequently  to  war,  is 
equally  manifeil,  and  that  in  a  flate  of  natural  liberty, 
there  is  no  other  way  but  force,  for  prefervmg  fccurity 
and  repelling  injury.  The  inconveniences  of  the  natu- 
ral flate  are  very  many. 

One  clafs  of  the  above-mentioned  writers  fay,  that  na- 
ture prompts"  to  fociety,  and  the  other,  that  neceflity  and 
intered  obliges  to  it — both  are  equally  true. 

Suppofmg  then  the  flate  of  natural  liberty  antecedent 
to  fociety  to  be  a  reality,  let  us  confider  the  perfed:  and 
imperfeft  rights  belonging  to  that  flate,  that  we  may  fee 
more  diflindly  how,  and  why  they  differ  in  a  focial  flate. 
The  perfe6l  rights  in  a  flate  of  natural  liberty,  are 
(i.)  a  right  to  life.  (2.)  A  right  to  employ  his  faculties 
and  induftry  for  his  own  ufe.  (3.)  A  right  to  things  that 
are  common  and  necelTary,  as  air,  water,  e?rth.  (4.)  A 
right  to  perfonal  liberty.  (5.)  A  power  over  his  own  life, 
not  to  throw  it  away  unneceiTarily,  but  for  a  good  reafon. 
(6.)  A  right  of  private  judgment  in  matters  of  opinion. 
(7.)  A  right  to  afTociate,  if  he  fo  incline,  widi  any  perfon 
or  perfons,  v/hom  he  can  perfuade  (not  force) — Under 
this  is  contained  the  right  to  marriage.  (8.)  A  rioht  to 
jcharadler,  that  is  to  fay,  innocence  (not  fame) — It  is  eafy 


320  Lectures  on 

to  perceive  that  all  thefe  rights  belong  to  a  flate  of  natura 
liberty,  and  that  it  would  be  unjufl  and  unequal  for  any 
individual  to  hinder  or  abridge  another  in   any  one  of 
them,  without  confent,  or  unlefs  it  be  in  jufl  retaliation 
for  injury  received. 

The  imperfe6l  natural  rights  are  very  numerous,  but 
they  are  nearly  the  fame  in  a  ftate  of  nature  as  in  a  ftate 
offociety,  as  gratitude,  compnffion,  mutual  good  offices — if 
they  will  be  no  injury  to  the  perfon  performing  them — In- 
deed they  mufl  be  the  fame  in  a  natural  and  in  a  focial 
ftate,  becaufe  the  very  definition  of  an  imperfe6l  right  is 
fuch  as  you  cannot  ufe  force  to  obtain.  Now,  what  you 
ought  not  to  ufe  force  to  obtain  in  a  ftate  of  natural  liberty, 
human  laws  in  a  well  conftituted  ftate  will  not  give  you. 

Society  I  would  define  to  be  an  aiTociation  or  compact 
of  any  number  of  perfons,  to  deliver  up  or  abridge  fome 
part  of  their  natural  rights,  in  order  to  have  the  ftrength 
of  the  united  body,  to  prote£l  the  remaining,  and  to  beftow 
others. 

Ilobbes  and  fome  other  writers  of  the  former  age,  treat 
with  great  contempt,  this  which  is  generally  called  the 
focial  compaO:. — He  infills  that  monarchy  is  the  law  of 
nature.  Few  are  of  his  fentiments  now,  at  leaft  in  Bri- 
tain, yet  it  is  proper  to  trace  them  to  the  foundation. 

It  is  to  be  admitted,  that  fociety  began  firft  infenfibly 
by  families,  and  almoft  necefiarily.  Hence  parental  au- 
thority was  the  firft  law,  and  perhaps  it  extended  for  two  or 
three  generations  in  the  early  ages.  Though  the  patrons 
of  monarchy  ufe  this  as  an  argument,  it  does  not  favor 
their  fcheme — This  which  they  call  the  patriarchal  go- 
vernment, could  not  extend  far ;  or  fuppofing  it  could, 
there  would  be  but  one  rightful  king  in  all  the  earth,  the 
lineal  defcendant  of  Adam's  eldeft  fon,  not  to  mention 
that  the  very  order  of  fuccefiion  in  hereditary  right,  has 
never  been  uniform,  and  is  but  of  late,  fettled  in  the  Eu- 
ropean nations. 

The  truth  is,  though  man  for  wife  reafons,  afterwards 
to  be  noticed,  continues  longer  in  a  family  dependance, 
than  other  animals,  yet  in  time  he  becomes  fui  juris,  and 
when  their  numbers  are  increafed,  when  they  either  con- 


Moral  Philosophy,  321 

tinue  together  or  remove  and  form  diftin6l  focieties,  it  is 
plain  that  there  mud  be  fuppofed  an  exprefled  or  implied 
contrail. 

Some  fay  there  is  no  trace  or  record  of  any  fuch  con- 
trail in  the  beginning  of  any  fociety.  But  this  is  no  ar- 
gument at  all,  for  things  infeparable  from,  and  eflential 
to  any  Hate,  commonly  take  place  fo  infenfibly,  that  their 
beginning  is  not  obferved. 

When  perfons  believe  themfelves  upon  the  v/holc,  rather 
opprefled  than  protected  in  any  fociety,  they  think  they 
are  at  liberty,  either  to  rebel  againfl  it,  or  fiy  from  it ; 
which  plainly  implies  that  their  being  fubje(5t  to  it,  arofe 
from  a  tacit  confent. 

Befides  in  migrations  and  planting  of  colonies,  in  all 
ages,  we  fee  evident  traces  of  an  original  contract  and 
confent  taken  to  the  principles  of  union. 

From  this  view  of  fociety  as  a  voluntary  compact,  re- 
fults  this  principle,  that  men  are  originally  and  by  nature 
equal,  and  confequently  free. 

Liberty  either  cannot,  or  ought  not  to  be  given  up  in 
the  focial  flate — The  end  of  the  union  fhould  be  the  pro- 
tection of  liberty,  as  far  as  it  is  a  bleifmg.  The  definition 
of  liberty  in  a  conftituted  government,  will  be  afterwards 
explained. 

Some  obferve,  that  few  nations  or  focieties  in  the  world 
have  had  their  confUtutions  formed  on  the  principles  of 
liberty  :  perhaps  not  one  twentieth  of  the  ftates  that  have 
been  eflablifhed  fmce  the  beginning  of  the  world  have 
been  fettled  upon  principles  altogether  favorable  to  libeity. 
This  is  no  jull  argument  againft  natural  liberty  and  the 
rights  of  mankind  ;  for  it  is  certain,  that  the  public  good 
has  always  been  the  real  aim  of  the  people  in  general,  in 
forming  and  entering  into  any  fociety.  It  has  alio  con^ 
flantly  been  atleafl  the  profeffed  aim  of  legiilators.  There- 
fore the  principle  feems  to  have  been  admitted,  only  they 
have  failed  or  been  difappointed  in  practice,  by  miftake  or 
deceit.  Though  perhaps  not  one  twentieth  part  of  man- 
kind have  any  tolerable  flviil  in  the  fine  arts,  it  does  not 
follow  that  there  are  no  fuch  arts,  or  that  the  principles  of 
them  are  not  founded  in  nature. 

Vol.  III.  S  f 


o 


22  Lectures  an 


Reafon  teaches  natural  liberty,  and  common  utility  re- 
coiTimends  it.  Some  nations  have  feen  this  more  clearly 
than  others,  or  have  more  happily  found  the  means  of  efta- 
bhfhing  it. 

Here  perhaps  we  fliould  confider  a  little  the  queftion, 
Vv'hether  it  is  lawful  to  make  men  or  to  keep  them  flaves, 
without  their  confent  ?  This  will  fall  afterwards  to  be  con- 
fidered  more  fully:  in  the  mean  time,  obferve  that  in  every 
f^ate  there  mull  be  fome  fuperior  and  others  inferior,  and 
it  is  hard  to  fix  the  degree  of  fubje6\ion  that  may  flill  to  the 
lot  of  particular  perfons.  Men  may  become  Haves,  or  their 
perfons  and  labor  be  put  wholly  in  the  power  of  others* 
by  confent.  They  may  alfo  fometimes  in  a  conftitu- 
ted  Hate,  be  made  flaves  by  force,  as  a  punifnment  for  the 
commilTion  of  crimes.  But  it  is  certainly  imlawful  to 
make  inroads  upon  others,  unprovoked,  and  take  away 
their  liberty  by  no  better  right  than  fuperior  power. 

It  has  fometimes  been  doubted,  whether  it  is  lawful  to 
take  away  the  liberty  of  others  for  life,  even  on  account  of 
crimes  committed.     There  can  be  no  flrong  reafon  given 
againil  this,  except  that  which  is  fuppofed  to  operate  in 
Great  Britain  againfl  makingmalefa6lorsllaves,that  it  would 
be  unfavorable  to  rational  liberty  to  fee  any  rank  of  men  in 
chains.     But  fetting  this  afide,  it  feems  plain  that  if  men 
may  forfeit  their  lives  to  the  fociety,  they  may  alfo  forfeit 
their  liberty,  which  is  a  lefs  precious  blefling.     It  feems 
alfo  more  agreeable  both  to  equity  and  public  utility  to 
puniih  fome  forts  of  crimes,  with  hard  labor,  than  death. 
Imprifonment  for  life,  has  been  admitted  and  pra6lifed  by 
all  nations — Some  have  pleaded  for  making  flaves  of  the 
barbarous   nations,  that  they  are  adlually  brought  into  a 
more  eligible  flate,  and  have  more  of  the  comforts  of  life, 
than  they  would  have  had  in  their  own  country.     This 
argument  may  alleviate,  but  does  not  jullify  the  practice, 
it  cannot  be  called  a  more  eligible  ftate,  if  lefs  agreeable 
to  themfelves. 

Upon  the  whole,  there  are  many  unlawful  ways  of  ma- 
king Haves,  but  alfo  fome  that  are  lawful — And  the  prac- 
tice feems  to  be  countenanced  in  the  law  of  Mofes,  where 
rules  are  laid  down  for  their  treatment,  and  an  efiimation 


Moral  Philosophy.  *  323 

of  injuries  done  to  them,  different  fi'om  that  of  free  men. 
I  do  nor  think  there  lies  any  neceflity  on  thofe  who  found 
men  in  a  flate  of  fiavery,  to  make  them  free  to  their 
own  ruin.  But  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  any  original 
caufe  of  fervitude  can  be  defended,  but  legal  punifliment 
for  the  commiffion  of  crimes.  Humanity  in  the  man- 
ner of  treating  them  is  manifeflly  a  di6late  of  reafoii 
and  nature,  and  I  think  alfo  of  private  and  public  utility, 
as  much  as  of  either. 

The  next  Hep  in  opening  the  principles  of  the  fecial 
Hate,  is  to  confider  the  foundation,  ellablilliment  and 
extent  of  Property.  Some  begin  this  by  confickring  the 
property  of  man  in  general  in  the  inferior  creatures. 
Has  he  any  right  to  ufe  the  lower  irrational  animals  for 
labour,  or  food,  or  both  ? 

It  is  needlefs  to  refine  too  much  upon  this  fubjedl. 
To  ufe  them  for  labor  feems  evidently  lawful,  as  they 
are  inferior,  with  llrength  fitted  for  it,  and  firength  which 
they  could  not  employ  for  the  improvement  and  cultiva- 
tion of  the  earth  without  the  diredlion  of  man.  They 
feem  to  be  to  man,  fome  how  as  the  body  to  the  mind. 
They  help  to  produce  food  for  themfeives  and  fo  increafe 
their  number  and  receive  much  more  fenfual  pleafure, 
l]iarin<T:  in  all  refpeds  with  their  mailers  the  fruit  of  their 
toiL 

To  ufe  them  for  foovl  is  thus  argued  to  be  lawful. — If 
fuffered  all  to  live,  they  would  become  too  numerous,  and 
could  not  be  fullained,  fo  that  deadi  to  many  of  them  in 
a  much  worfe  way  mull  be  the  certain  confequencel 
Further,  nature  feems  to  di6late  the  ufe  of  them  for  food 
in  the  plained  manner,  for  they  are  food  for  one  another 
in  a  regular  gradation,  the  infedls  to  the  birds  and  fi flies, 
many  of  them  to  the  beads,  and  the  fmaller  to  the  greater, 
or  the  tamer  to  the  more  rapacious  of  every  order. 

If  we  take  tradition  or  Revelation  for  our  guide,  the 
matter  is  plain,  that  God  made  man  lord  of  the  works 
of  his  hands,  and  put  under  him  all  the  other  creatures. 
Only  it  appears  that  the  grant  of  animal  food  was  mads 
no  earlier  than  to  Noah  after  the  flood. 


•  24  Lectures  on 

Let  us  next  confider  the  eflablifliment  of  private  pro- 
perty. Private  property  is  every  particular  perfon's 
having  a  confeiTed  and  exclufive  right  to  a  certain  portion 
of  the  goods  which  ferve  for  the  fupport  and  conveniency 
of  life. 

In  a  very  imperfedl  ftate  of  fociety  community  of 
goods  may  fubfill  in  a  great  degree,  and  indeed  its  fub- 
fifting  is  one  of  the  furell  figns  of  an  imperfect  flate  of 
fociety.  Some  attempts  have  been  made  in  civilized 
ilates  to  introduce  it,  but  without  any  confiderable  efFe(?t, 
except  in  Sparta,  the  conititution  of  which  was  very  fm- 
gular.  In  fmall  voluntary  focieties,  efpecially  of  the 
religious  kind,  it  may  be  eilabliilied,  and  will  continue  fo 
long  as  the  morals  of  the  fociety  are  pure.  But  in  civil 
fociety  fully  formed,  efpecially  if  the  Hate  is  at  all  ex- 
tenfive  or  intended  to  be  fo,  private  property  is  elTen- 
tially  neceffary,  and  founded  upon  the  reafon  of  things 
and  public  utility.  The  reafons  of  it  are  (i)  without 
private  property  no  laws  would  be  fufficient  to  compel 
univerfal  induflry.  There  never  was  fuch  a  purity  of 
manners  and  zeal  for  the  public  in  the  individuals  of  a 
great  body,  but  that  many  would  be  idle  and  llothful  and 
maintain  themfelves  upon  the  labor  of  others. 

2.  There  is  no  reafon  to  expect  in  the  prefent  ftate  of 
human  nature,  that  there  would  be  a  juft  and  equal  dif- 
tribution  to  every  one  according  to  his  neceffity ,  nor  any 
room  for  diftin^lion  according  to  merit. 

3.  There  v/ould  be  no  place  for  the  exercife  of  fome  of 
the  nobleii:  affections  of  the  human  mind,  as  charity, 
compaflion,  beneficence,  &c. 

4.  Little  or  no  incitement  to  the  active  virtues,  la- 
bor, ingenuity,  bravery,  patience,  &c. 

Some  have  laid  down  fchemes  for  making  property 
common,  as  Sir  Thomas  Moore  in  his  Utopia  ;  but  in 
general  they  are  chimerical  and  impracticable.  There 
is  no  infiance  in  fa<5t  where  any  ftate  that  made  a  figure 
in  the  fecial  life,  had  their  goods  wholly  in  common. 
Sparta  had  the  moll  of  it,  but  it  was  a  very  fmall  flate, 
and  lim.ited  in  its  views;  befides  there  was  fomething 
£0  fingular  in  the  whole  conflitution  of  the  Spartan  go- 


Moral  Philosophy »  325 

vernment,  that  its  fubfifling  fo  long,  remaiPiS  a  phenome- 
non for  politicians  and  reafoners  yet  to  account  for. 

Suppofmg  private  property  to  be  effential,  or  at  leaf!  ufe- 
fiil  in  the  focial  Hate,  the  next  queflion  is,  how  does  this 
property  take  its  rife,  or  by  what  ways  is  it  acquired. 

The  original  ways  of  acquiring  property  may  be  re- 
duced to  thefe  two  (i)  Prior  occupation  (2)  our  own  in- 
duilry. 

As  to  the  iiril  of  thefe,  it  may  be  analyfed  thus.  Of 
the  things  that  lay  in  common  for  the  ufe  of  man,  J  ha\'e 
a  right  to  take  what  is  convenient  for  me,  and  after  I 
have  taken  it  no  bodv  can  have  a  better  rioht  iior  confe- 
quently  any  title  to  take  it  from  me. 

But  many  queftions  difhcult  to  be  refolved  arife  from 
the  application  of  this  principle.  How  far  does  this 
right  extend  ?  Mud  I  take  only  what  is  fulHcient  for  the 
prefent  moment,  or  may  I  provide  for  future  neceflities 
and  enjoyiTient.  In  vacant  lands  mufl  I  take  only  what 
I  and  my  prefent  followers  can  fufficiendy  occu])y,  or 
may  I  touch  a  continent  and  call  it  mine,  though  i  fliall 
not  be  able  to  fill  it  in  many  ages.  I  anfwer  common 
utility  mufl  be  the  rule  in  all  thefe  cafes,  and  any  thing 
more  particular,  mufl:  be  referved  till  we  come  to  the  law 
of  nations. 

Some  fay  that  the  v/ater  in  large  bays  and  rivers, 
ought  to  be  common  to  all,  becaufe  it  is  inexhauftible  and 
one's  ufmg  it  cannot  wafte  or  fpoil  it  for  the  ufe  of  others. 
But  the  fecurity  of  focleties  will  point  out  the  meafure 
of  property  that  mufl  be  in  all  thofe  things. 

The  extent  or  obje6l  of  property  contains  three  par- 
ticulars (i)  a  right  to  the  fullefl  ufe.  Whatever  is  a 
perfon's  property  he  has  a  right  to  do  with  it  as  he  pleafes, 
with  this  fmgle  exception,  if  it  may  be  called  fo,  that  he 
may  not  ufe  it  to  the  injury  of  others.  Full  property  has 
no  other  exception,  unlefs  you  call  this  an  exception, 
that  if  any  man  would  wantonly  dellroy  the  fruits  of  the 
earth,  or  his  habitation  ;  in  that  cafe  though  they  were 
his  own,  people  would  hinder  him,  as  fuppofmghim  to  be 
mad,  and  deprive  him  not  only  of  that  liberty,  but  of  all 
others. 


326  Lectures  on 

2.  Property  implies  a  right  of  exclufion.  We  may 
hinder  others  from  any  way  intermetUing  witli  what  is 
our  property.  This  feems  eflential  to  the  idea*  Gi- 
ving a  full  right  to  one,  implies  that  others  have  none. 

3.  It  implies  a  power  to  alienate.  That  is  to  fay,  a 
right  of  alteration,  commutation,  donation,  during  life,  and 
difpofal  at  death.  Thus  property  is  faid  to  be  perpe- 
tual. 

There  are  certain  things  called  by  Civilians  Res  nul- 
lius,  fuch  as  temples,  public  edifices,  gates  and  walls  of 
cities,  &c.  Temples  ufed  to  be  faid  to  be  given  to  God, 
and  in  the  laws  of  civilized  flates,  attention  is  paid  to  this 
circumftance.  But  as  to  the  property  or  ufe,  the  cafe  of 
them  and  of  all  the  other  things  mentioned,  is  very 
clear.  They  are  under  the  infpedlion  of  the  magiflrate, 
or  fuch  perfons  as  reprefent  the  community,  and  are  by 
them  kept  for  common  ufe. 


LECTURE    XL 

IN  the    fecial  life  in  general  we  may  confider,   (i)  do- 
meflic,  (2)  civil  fociety. 

The  firil:  of  thefe  we  mud  confider  as  implying  and 
made  up  of  fcveral  relations,  the  chief  of  which  are  (i) 
the  relation  of  marriage,  (2)  That  of  parents  and  chil- 
dren, (3)  that  of  mailer  and  fervant. 

In  marriage  we  ought  to  obferve  that  though  all  crea- 
tures may  be  faid  to  be  propagated  in  a  way  in  a  great 
degree  fimilar,  yet  there  is  fomething  peculiarly  diftin- 
guifhed,  dignified  and  folemn  in  marriage  among  men. 
This  diftindlion  is  neceflary  and  founded  in  reafon  and 
nature. 

Human  creatures  at  their  birth  are  in  a  Hate  weaker 
and  more  helplefs  than  any  other  animals.  They  alfo 
arrive  much  more  flowly  at  maturity,  and  need  by  far 
moil:  aiTiflance  and  cultivation.  Therefore  a  particular 
union  of  the  parents  is  abfolutely  neceflary,  and  that 
upon  fuch  powerful  principles  as  will  fecure  their    com- 


Moral  Philosophy,  ^ly 

mOn  care.  Marriage  is  a  relation  exprefsly  founded 
upon  this  neceffity  and  muli  be  fo  condu6led  as  to  afcer- 
tain  the  property  of  the  offspring,  and  to  promife  the 
moft  affiduous,  prudent  and  cxtcnfive  care. 

This  is  the  foundation  of  marriage  drawn  from  the 
public  good.  But  vv^e  ought  alfo  to  obferve  that  man  is 
manifellly  fuperior  in  dignity  to  the  other  animals,  and 
it  was  intended  that  all  his  enjoyments  and  even  his 
indulgence  of  inftin6live  propenfities  ffiould  be  of  a  more 
exalted  and  rational  kind  than  theirs.  Therefore  the 
propenfity  of  the  fexes  to  one  another,  is  not  only  reined 
in  by  modefty,  but  is  fo  ordered  as  to  require  that  reafon 
and  friendfhip,  and  fome  of  the  nobleft  a.ffeelions  fhould 
have  place.  And  it  is  certain  that  they  have  if  not  a 
more  violent,  at  lead  a  more  lafting  and  uniform  in- 
fluence in  the  married  fcate  than  fenfual  defire. 

It  is  further  obferved  by  moral  writers,  that  though 
beauty  and  perfonal  attraction  may  be  confide  red  as  the 
firfl  motives,  yet  thefe  are  always  fuppofed  to  be  indica- 
tions of  fomething  excellent  in  the  temper  within.  So 
that  even  love  of  beauty  in  man  is  an  attachment  to  mo- 
ral excellence.  Let  a  perfon  attend  with  ferioufnefs, 
and  he  will  find  that  the  utmofl  perfe6lion  of  form  in  an 
idiot,  or  one  thoroughly  known  to  be  of  a  very  bad  temper, 
is  really  no  objedt  of  defire.  Though  in  thofe  who  are 
little  known  it  is  apt  to  prejudice  the  ignorant  and  un- 
wary to  judge  favorably  of  the  perfon. 

The  particulars  which  reafon  and  nature  point  out  re- 
lating to  the  marriage  contrail  are  as  follow : 

1.  That  it  be  between  one  man  and  one  woman.  Poly- 
gamy is  condemned  by  nature  ;  for  it  is  found  that  the 
males  born,  are  to  the  females  as  13  to  12,  or  as  fome  i^xj^ 
as  20  to  19,  the  overplus  being  to  fupply  the  greater  wafle 
of  the  male  part  of  the  fpecies  by  war  and  dangerous 
occupations,  hard  hibor,  and  travelling  by  land  and  fea. 

2.  The  fundamental  and  elTential  part  of  the  contract 
is  fidelity  and  cliaflity.  This  mud  immediately  appear 
to  be  effential  to  the  purpofe  of  ttie  union.  Some  writers 
fay  that  this  is  efpecially  binding  upon  the  w  omri?i,  ia 
order  to  afcertain  the  ofispring;  but  every  body  mud  fee 


3iS  Lectures  on 

the  abfurdity  of  any  diftindion,  becaufe  the  contract 
would  neither  be  equal,  nor  likely  to  be  lieadily  obferyed 
if  it  were  not  mutual.  Eefides,  as  a  late  author  has  well 
obferved,  if  chaflity  be  a  female  virtue,  how  can  men 
be  unchafte  without  infringing  upon  it  ? 

3.  The  contract  fhould  be  for  life— otherwife  it  would 
be  fhort,  uncertain,  and  mutual  love  and  indullry  greatly 
weakened. 

4.  If  fuperiority  and  authority  be  given  to  the  man,  it 
ihould  be  ufed  with  fo  much  gentlenefs  and  love  as  to 
make  it  a  ilate  of  as  great  equality  as  poiTible.  Hutchinfon 
and  fome  other  writers  fay  there  fhould  be  no  fuperiority,: 
and  that  their  property  being  common,  lliould  not  be  aii*'' 
enated  by  the  one  without  the  other.  Others  think  that 
perfedl  equality  of  power  in  two  perfons  is  not  confident 
with  order,  and  the  common  interell,  and  therefore  give  au-. 
thority  to  the  man,  and  the  laws  of  moft  nations  give  the 
man  the  difpofal  of  property,  with  the  refervation  of  par- 
ticular rights  to  the  woman. 

Some  heathen  writers  gave  the  man  power  of  life  and 
death  over  the  woman,  a  thing  evidently  barbarous  and 
unjuft. 

5.  Marriages  are  fometimes  difTolved  by  divorces, 
which  our  law  permits  only  on  three  accounts — adultery, 
wilful  and  obftinate  defertion,  and  incapacity.  The  firit 
two  of  thefe  founded  on  the  Nev/  Tellament,  and  the 
laft  on  reafon,  being  not  fo  properly  a  diffolution  of  a  mar- 
riage, as  a  declaration  that  it  was  void  from  the  begin- 
ning, and  never  took  place. 

Some  writers  of  moral  philofophy  add  as  caufes  of  di- 
vorce contrariety  of  temper,  incurable  difeafes,  and 
fuch  as  would  infedl  the  offspring.  But  none  of  them 
feem  of  fufhcient  moment.  The  firft  vv'ould  be  an  evi-. 
dent  temptation  to  caufelefs  and  wanton  feparations — 
and  all  the  three  may  be  guarded  againit  by  previous 
caution. 

Hutchinfon  obferves  that  in  all  nations,  marrying  irt 
near  degrees  of  confanguinity  or  affinity  has  been  avoid- 
ed and  abhorred  ;  and  he  adds,  that  tlie  natural  and  ge- 
neral abhorrence  of  it  has  bten  p'reater  tlian  reafon  feems 


Moral  Philosophy.  32-9 

to  di6late.  Hence  it  has  been  conje£lured  to  have  been 
early  tradition  or  revelation — and  men  have  exercifed 
their  invention  in  finding  out  the  true  reafon  or  ground  of 
the  prohibition* 

One  reafon  afligned  is,  becaufe  if  marriage  were  lawful 
to  near  relations,  their  frequent  intercourfe  would  be 
i     a  ftrong  temptation  to  uncleannefs. 

Another;  that  if  permitted  it  would  frequently  confound 
or  invert  the  duties  of  relations  by  fetting  fome  above 
others  whom  they  formerly  ufed  to  obey. 

A  third  reafon,  and  perhaps  the  befl  is,  that  abftaining 
from  blood  relations  in  this  voluntary  contract  extends  the 
focial  ties,  and  produces  a  greater  number  of  family  re- 
lations. 

Whatever  be  the  moral  reafon s,  it  feems  to  have  a 
ftrong  fan6tion  in  nature  ;  for  it  is  obferved  that  marriage 
between  near  relations,  efpecially  if  repeated,  greatly 
weakens  the  human  race* 

As  to  the  extent  of  this  prohibition,  it  has  been  vari- 
ous in  different  nations,  but  the  moft  prevailing  has  beeil 
to  forbid  all  within  three  degrees.  The  degrees  are  rec- 
koned by  the  fteps  of  defcent  between  the  parties  and  the 
common  parent.  Parent  and  child  is  the  firft — child  and 
child,  the  fecond — child  and  grand-child,  the  third — and 
two  grand-children  or  firll  coufins  the  fourth — when  it 
becomes  lawful. 

Relation  of  Parents  and  Children, 

The  firft  thing  to  be  obferved  is,  that  this  relation  is 
diftinguiihed  by  the  ftrongeft  inftindl  of  parental  affection. 
This  feems  neceflary^  as  the  education  of  children  is  a 
duty  requiring  fo  much  time,  care  and  expence,  which 
nothing  but  the  moft  rooted  affedtion  would  fubmit  to. 

The  rights  of  the  parent  may  be  fummed  up  in  thefe 
two  :  I.  Authority,  which  requires  fubje6tion  in  the  chil- 
dren. 2.  A  right  to  a  grateful  return  in  due  time  from 
the  children.  The  firft  is  a  perfed:  right,  as  far  as  it  ex- 
tends,  but  muft  be  limited. 
^  V©L.  III.  T  t 


330  Lectures  on 

Some  nations  have  given  parents  the  power  of  life  and 
death  over  their  children,  and  Hobbs  infifts  that  children 
are  the  goods  and  abfolute  property  of  their  parents,  and 
that  they  may  alienate  them  and  fell  them  either  lor  a  time, 
or  for  life.  But  both  thefe  feem  ill  founded,  becaufe  they 
are  contrary  to  the  end  of  this  right,  viz.  inflru6tion  and 
protection.  Parental  right  feems  in.  moll  cafes  to  be  li" 
mitted  by  the  advantage  of  the  children. 

Children  arc  no  doubt  to  judge  for  tliemfelves  in  mat- 
ters of  religion  when  they  come  to  years,  though  the  pa- 
rents are  under  the  ftrongeft  obligation  to  inflruCt  them 
carefully  to  the  belt  of  their  judgment.  Thofe  who  in* 
fift,  that  to  leave  them  their  judgment  free  they  ought  not 
to  be  taught  any  principles,  ought  to  confider  that  their 
fcheme  is  impracticable  and  abfurd.  If  the  parents  do 
not  inflruCt  them,  they  will  imbibe  prejudices  and  con- 
tra6l  habits  perhaps  of  the  woril  kind  from  others. 

Children  in  moil  nations  are  confidered  as  having  a 
right  exclulive  of  their  parents  to  property  given  them  by 
others. 

Many  nations  have  given  the  parents  a  right  to  dif- 
pofe  of  their  children  in  marriage  ;  but  this  feems  to  be 
carrying  parental  authority  too  far,  if  it  be  made  abfo- 
lute, becaufe  it  puts  in  the  power  of  the  parent  to  difpofe 
of  what  is  moft  efTential  to  their  happinefs  through  the 
whole  of  their  future  life.  Yet  it  feems  very  contrary  to 
rcafon  and  nature  that  children  in  early  life  fliould  difpofe 
of  themfelves  in  marriage  without  confulting  their  parents. 

Since  we  have  denied  the  power  of  life  and  death  to 
parents,  it  will  be  alked  v/hat  is  the  fanCtion  of  their  au- 
thority ?  I  anfv/er,  moderate  correction  in  early  life,  and 
as  the  very  higheit  punilhment,  expulfion  from  their  fa- 
mily, or  a  forfeiture  of  the  privileges  which  they  defpife. 

As  to  the  right  to  a  grateful  return,  it  is  an  imperfeCt 
right,  but  of  the  ilrongefl  kind — fometimes  the  civil  au- 
thority interpofes,  and  obliges  children  to  maintain  their 
aged  parents. 

To  the  difgrace  of  human  nature  it  is  often  obferved, 
that  parental  affeCtion  is  much  Itronger  than  filial  duty. 
We  mufl  indeed  acknowledge  the  wifdom  of  Providence 


Moral  Philosophy,  331 

in  making  the  inftindive  impulfe  ftronger  In  parents  to- 
wards their  children,  than  in  children  towards  their  pa- 
rents ;  beeaufe  the  iirfl  is  more  neceflary  than  the  other 
to  the  pubUc  good ;  yet  when  we  confider  both  as  improve, 
ed  into  a  virtuous  difpofition  by  reafon  and  a  fenfe  of  duty, 
there  feems  to  be  every  whit  as  much  baienefs  in  fihal  in- 
gratitude, as  in  want  of  natural  affection. 

Relation  of  Master  and  Servaiit., 

Tiiis  relation  is  firft  generated  by  the  difference  which 
God  hath  permitted  to  take  place  between  man  and  man. 
Some  are  fuperior  to  others  in  mental  powers  and  intel- 
ledlual  improvement — fome  by  the  great  increafe  of  their 
property  through  their  own,  or  their  predeceffors  indufliy, 
and  fome  make  it  their  choice,  finding  they  cannot  live 
otherwife  better,  to  let  out  their  labor  to  others  for  hire. 

Let  us  fliortly  confider  (i.)  How  far  this  fubjedlion  ex- 
tends. (2.)  The  duties  on  each  fide.. 

As  to  the  firft  it  feems.  to  be  only  that  the  mafler  has  a 
right  to  the  labors  and  ingenuity  of  the  fervant,  for  a  limit- 
ed time,  or  at  mod  for  life.  He  can  have  no  right  either 
to  take  away  life,  or  to  make  it  infupportable  by  exceffive 
labor.  The  fervant  therefore  retains  all  his  other  natural 
rights. 

The  pra6lice  of  ancient  nations,  of  making  their  pri- 
foners  of  war  flaves,  was  altogether  unjuft  and  barbarous  ; 
for  though  w^e  could  fuppofe  that  thofe  who  were  the  cau- 
fes  of  an  unjuft  war  deferved  to  be  made  flaves  ;  yet  this 
could  not  be  the  cafe  of  all  who  fought  on  their  fide  ;  be- 
fides,  the  doing  fo  in  one  inftance,  would  authonfe  the 
doing  it  in  any  other  ;  and  thofe  who  fought  in  defence  of 
their  country,  when  unjuiUy  invaded,  migtit  be  taken  as 
well  as  others.  The  pra(^ice  was  alfo  impolitic,  as  flayes 
never  are  fo  good  or  faithful  fervants,  as  thofe  who  become 
fo  for  a  limited  time  by  CQnfent. 


332  JLecture^  on 


LECTURE    XII, 

Of  Civil  Society. 

CIVIL  SOCIETY  is  diflinguiflied  from  demeftic,  in 
the  union  of  a  number  of  families  in  one  flate,  for 
their  mutual  benefit,  ^     i 

We  have  before  affirmed,  that  fociety  always  fuppofes 
an  exprefTed  or  implied  contradl  or  agreement.  Let  us 
now  fee  what  this  agreement  neceflarily  implies, 

(i.)  The  confent  of  every  individual  to  live  in,  and  be  a 
inember  @f  that  fociety.  (2.)  A  confent  to  fome  particu- 
lar plan  of  government.  (3.)  A  mutual  agreement  be- 
tween the  fubjedls  and  rulers ;  of  fubjed:ion  on  the  one 
hand,  of  protection  on  the  other — Thefe  are  all  implied  in 
the  union  of  every  fociety,  and  they  compleat  the  whole. 
Any  objections  that  may  be  raifed  againft  this,  are  ea- 
fily  folved.     Ex.  Gr.   Though  every  individual  has  not 
given  an  actual  confent,  yet  his  determination  to  live  with 
any  feciety  implies  it.     Again,  if  it  be  afked  how  chil- 
.  dren  come  to  be  members  of  a  fociety ;  it  is  anfwered, 
they  receive  the  benefits  and  partake  of  the  rights  of  the 
fociety  during  the  whole  time  of  their  education,  and  as 
they  come  to  the  ufe  of  reafon,  they  both  claim  the  privi- 
lege, and  acquiefce  in  the  duty  of  citizens — And  if  they 
find  any  thing  infupportable  in  their  condition,  they  may 
alter  it  at  their  pleafure. 

Have  then  all  fubjeCts  a  right  v^hen  they  fee  fit,  to  re- 
move from  the  fociety  in  which  they  are  ?  I  anfwer  that 
in  all  ordinary  cafes  they  ought  to  have,  at  leaft  in  time  of 
peace.  Perhaps  it  may  be  affirmed  withjuftice,  that  they 
who  have  enjoyed  the  privileges  of  any  fociety  in  time  of 
peace,  if  war  or  danger,  to  the  public  fhould  arife,  they 
may  be  hindered  from  emigrating  at  that  time,  and  com- 
pelled to  contribute  their  fliare  in  what  is  necelTary  to  the 
common  defence. 


Moral  Philosophy,  '  333 

Whatever  is  the  form  of  government  in  any  fociety, 
the  members  may  be  divided  into  two  clafles,  the  rulers 
and  the  riiled^  the  magiftrates  and  fubje6ls. 

The  rights  of  rulers  may  be  divided  into  eflential  and 
accidental :  the  eflential,  fuch  as  in  general  muft  be  veiled 
in  rulers  in  every  fociety ;  the  accidental,  fuch  as  may  be 
given  to  the  rulers  in  fome  focieties,  but  not  in  others. 

The  eflential  rights  of  rulers,  are  what  require  moll  to 
be  enumerated,  and  thefe  again  by  fome  good  writers  are 
divided  into  greater  and  leffer  eflential s. 

Oftheiirfl;  kind  are,  (i.)  Legiflation.  (2.)  Taxation 
for  the  public  expence.  (3.)  Jurifdidlion,  or  the  adminif- 
tration  of  juftice.  (4.)  Reprefentation,  or  appearing  and 
a(5ling  in  name  of  the  whole,  in  all  tranfa^lions,  with  ad- 
jacent independent  fl:ates,  chiefly  for  the  purpofes  of  making 
war  or  peace. 

The  lefs  eflential  rights  of  rulers  are  many,  and  they 
are  called  lefs  eflential,  becaufe  they  may  be  more  varied 
than  the  others ;  fuch  as,  coining  of  money — pofleflTmg^ 
or  managing  public  edifices — conferring  honors  on  offi- 
cers, Sec. 

The  rights  of  fubje£ls  in  a  focial  fl:ate,  cannot  be  enu- 
merated, but  they  may  be  all  fummed  up  in  protection^ 
.  that  is  to  fay,  thofe  who  have  furrendeied  part  of  their  na- 
tural rights,  expert  the  llrength  of  the  public  arm  to  de- 
■  fend  and  improve  what  remains. 

It  has  been  often  faid,  that  government  is  carried  on  by 
'<»  rewards  and  punifhments  ;  but  it  ought  to  be  obferved, 
•;  that  the  only  reward  that  a  llate  can  be  fuppofed  to  beftow 
upon  good  lubjedls  in  general,  is  protedlion  and  defence. 
Some  few  who  have  diftinguifhed  themfelves  in  the  public 
fervice,  may  be  dillinguiflied  by  particular  rewards  ;  but 
to  reward  the  whole  is  impoflible,  becaufe  the  reward 
muft:  be  levied  from  thofe  very  perfons  to  whom  it  is  to  be 
given. 

After  what  has  been  faid  on  the  foundation  of  fociety, 
viz.  confcnt,  perhaps  it  may  be  neceflary  to  mention  tw~o 
exceptions. 

I.  It  is  faid  by  fome  with  apparent  reafon,  that  a  few 
perfons  if  accidentally  armed  with  power,  may  couftrain 


334, 


Lectures  m 


a  large  ignorant  rabble  to  fubnait  to  laws  which  will 
be  for  their  good.  This  I  would  admit  in  fome  cafes, 
when  there  is  an  evident  madnefs  and  diforder  in  the 
multitude,  and  when  there  is  a  moral  certainty  that  they 
will  afterwards  be  pleafed  with  the  violence  done  them. 
But  in  general  it  is  bat  a  bad  maxim  that  we  may  force-^ 
people  for  their  good.  All  lovers  of  power  Vi  ill  be  dif- 
pofed  to  think  that  even  a  violent  ufe  of  it  is  for  the 
public  good. 

2.  Though  people  have  aftually  confented  to  any 
form  of  government,  if  they  have  been  eifentially  deceiv- 
ed in  the  nature  and  operation  of  the  laws,  if  they  are, 
found  to  be  pernicious  and  defi:ru(5tive  of  the  ends  of 
the  union,  tHey  may  certainly  break  up  the  fociety,  re- 
call their  obligation,  and  refettle  the  whole  upon  a  better 
footing. 

Of  the  different  forms  of  goveniment* 

As  foon  as  men  began  to  confider  and  compare  formsr 
of  government,  they  divided  them  into  three  general 
and  fimple  kinds,  (i)  monarchy,  (2)  ariftocracy,  (3) 
democracy.  Thefe  are  called  fimple,  becaufe  they  are 
clearly  diilinguiiliable  from  each  other  in  their  nature 
and  effefts.  The  ancients  generally  divided  the  forms 
of  government  in  this  manner,  becaufe  mofl  of  their  go^ 
vernments  were  of  one  or  other  of  thefe  kinds  with  very 
little  mixture. 

Monarchy  is  when  the  fupreme  power  is  veiled  in  a  fm- 
gle  perfon.  Mr.  Hutchinfon  fays,  monarchy  may  be  either 
abfolute  or  limitted ;  but  this  is  an  inaccuracy,  for  limit- 
ed monarchy  is  one  of  the  mixed  kinds  of  govern- 
ment. 

But  monarchy  may  be  either  temporary  or  for  life. 
The  Roman  didators  were  abfolute  for  a  time,  and  fo  long 
as  they  continued,  the  government  was  purely  monarchi- 
cal, all  other  powers  being  dormant. 

Monarchy  may  alfo  be  either  hereditary  or  eledlive. 

Ariilocracy  is  that  form  of  government  in  which  the 
fupreme  power  is  lodged  with  a  fmall  number  of  nobles. 
This  is  capable  of  the  fame  variations  as  monarchy,  and 
it  may  be  either  temporary  or  perpetual.^  hereditary   or 


Moral  Philosophy,  335 

cle6live,  with  this  difference,  that  a  temporary  or  elec- 
tive ariftocracy  always  puts  fome  power  in  the  hands  of 
the  people.  The  moft  complete  ariftocracy  is  when  the 
ruling  party  have  the  power  of  cooptation  within  them- 
i'clves,  and  can  fill  up  as  they  pleafe,  the  vacancies  made 
by  deaths  or  refignation. 

Democracy  is  when  the  fupreme  pov/er  is  left  in  the 
multitude.  But  as  in  large  governments  the  people  in 
a  collective  body  cannot  well  meet  together,  nor  could 
they  tranfadl  bufmefs  with  any  convenience  if  they  did, 
they  may  meet  by  reprefentatives  chofen  either  by  the 
whole,  or  by  particular  diftri6ls. 

From  thofe  fimple  forms  are  generated  many  complex 
forms  ;  two  of  them  may  be  compounded  together,  either 
in  equal  or  in  different  proportions,  or  all  thefe  may  be 
imited,  as  in  the  Britifh  government. 

After  pointing  out  the  fimple  forms  of  government,  it 
will  be  proper  to  make  fome  general  obfervations  upon 
government,  and  apply  them  to  the  various  forms,  to 
Hiow  whether  any  of  them  is  preferable  to  the  other,  and 
the  advantages  and  defeds  of  each  in  particular. 

I.  There  are  four  things  thr.t  feem  to  be  requifite  in  a 
fyftem  of  government  and  every  form  is  good  in  pro- 
portion as  it  pofleffes  or  attains  them,  (i)  wifdom  to 
plan  proper  meafures  for  the  public  good.  (2)  Fidelity  to 
have  nothing  but  the  public  intercft  in  view.  (3)  Secre- 
cy, expedition,  and  difpatch  in  carrying  meafures  into 
ejcecution,  and  (4)  unity  and  concord,  or  that  one  branch 
of  the  government  may  not  impede,  or  be  a  hindra.nce  to 
another. 

Monarchy  has  plainly  the  advantage  in  unity,  fectecy, 
and  expedition.  Many  cannot  {o  eafily  nor  fo  fpeedily 
agree  upon  proper  meafures,  nor  can  they  expert  to  keep 
their  defigns  fecret ;  therefore  fay  fome,  if  a  man  could 
be  found  wife  enough,  and  juft  enough  for  the  charge, 
monarchy  would  be  the  beft  form  of  government.  Ac- 
cordingly we  find  that  in  the  command  of  a  fhip,  fleet  or 
army,  one  perfon  is  commonly  intrufted  with  fupreme 
power;  but  this  does  not  apply  to  ftates,  for  many  rea- 
sons.    No  man  can  be  found  who  has  either  fkill  fuffici- 


336  Lectures  on 

ent,  or  if  he  had,  could  give  attention  to  the  whole  de- 
partments of  a  great  empire.  Befides,  in  hereditary 
monarchies  there  is  no  fecurity  at  all  for  either  wifdom 
or  goodnefs,  and  an  elective  monarchy,  though  it  may  feem 
to  promife  ability,  has  beeti  ahv^ays  found  in  experience 
worfe  than  the  other,  hecaufe  there  is  no  reafon  to  expedl 
that  an  elected  monarch  will  have  the  public  good  at 
heart,  he  will  probably  mind  only  private  or  family  inte- 
reft. 

Ariftocracy  has  the  advantage  of  all  the  others  for 
wisdom  in  deliberations,  that  is  to  fay,  a  number  of 
perfon  of  the  firil  rank  muftbe  fuppofed  by  their  conful* 
tations  to  be  able  to  difcover  the  public  intereft.  But  it 
has  very  little,  or  no  profpeft  of  fidelity  or  union.  The 
moft  ambitious  projedls,  and  the  moft  violent  and  im- 
placable fa6tions  often  prevail  in  fuch  Hates. 

Democracy  has  the  advantage  of  both  the  others  for 
fidelity ;  the  multitude  collectively  always  are  true  in 
intention  to  the  intereft  of  the  public,  becaufe  it  is  their 
own.  They  are  the  public.  But  at  the  fame  time  it 
has  very  little  advantage  for  wifdom,  or  union,  and 
none  at  all  for  fecrecy,  and  •expedition.  Befides,  the 
multitude  are  exceeding  apt  to  be  deceived  by  dema- 
gogues and  ambitious  perfons.  They  are  very  apt  to 
truft  a  man  who  ferves  them  well,  with  fuch  power  as 
that  he  is  able  to  make  them  ferve  him. 

If  the  true  notion  of  liberty  is  the  prevalence  of  law 
and  order,  and  the  fecurity  of  individuals,  none  of  the 
fimple  forms  are  favorable  to  it. 

Monarchy  every  one  knows  is  but  another  name  for 
tyranny,  where  the  arbitrary  will  of  one  capricious  man 
clifpofes  of  the  lives  and  properties  of  all  ranks. 

Ariftocracy  always  makes  vaflals  of  the  inferior  ranks, 
who  have  no  hand  in  government,  and  the  great,  com*'^ 
monly  rule  with  greater  feverity  than  abfolute  monarchs.' 
A  monarch  is  at  fuch  adiftance  from  moft  of  hisfubje6ts, 
that  he  does  them  little  injury  ;  but  the  lord  of  a  petty 
ibignory  is  a  rigorous  taflc  mafter  to  his  unhappy  depen- 
dants. The  jealoufy  with  which  the  members  of  an  arif-* 
tocratieal  ftate  defend  their  own  privileges  is  no  fecurit/ 


Moral  Philosophy.  ^37 

at  all  for  humanity  and  eafy  treatment  to  their  inferi- 
ors. Example — the  Spartans ;  their  treatment  of  the 
Helots — and  the  barons  in  all  the  feudal  governments,  in 
their  treatment  of  their  vaflals. 

Pure  democracy  cannot  fubfift  long,  nor  be  carried 
far  into  the  departments  of  flate — it  is  very  fubjedl  to 
caprice  and  the  madnefs  of  popular  rage.  They  are  alfo 
very  apt  to  chufe  a  favorite  and  veft  him  with  fuch  power 
as  overthrows  their  own  liberty,— examples,  Athens  and 
Rome. 

Hence  it  appears  tliat  every  good  form  of  government 
mull  be  complex,  fo  that  the  one  principle  may  check  tha 
other.  It  is  of  confequence  to  have  as  much  virtue^ 
among  the  particular  members  of  a  community  as  pof- 
fible  ;  but  it  is  folly  to  expeft  that  a  ftate  iliould  be  up- 
held by  integrity  in  all  who  have  a  fliare  in  managing  it. 
They  muft  be  fo  balanced,  that  when  every  one  draws 
to  his  own  intereft  or  inclination,  there  may  be  an  over 
poife  upon  the  whole. 

If.  The  fecond  obfervation  upon  the  forms  of  govern- 
ment is,  that  where  there  is  a  balance  of  different  bo- 
dies, as  in  all  mixed  forms,  there  muft  be  always  fome 
nexus  imperii^  fomething  to  make  one  of  them  necelTary 
to  the  other.  If  this  is  not  the  cafe,  they  will  not  only 
draw  different  ways,  but  will  often  feparate  altogether 
from  each  other.  In  order  to  produce  this  nexus ^  Ibme 
of  the  great  effential  rights  of  rulers  muft  be  divided  and 
diftributed  among  the  diflPerent  branches  of  the  legiflature. 
Example  in  the  Britifti  government,  the  king  has  the 
power  of  making  war  and  peace, — but  the  parliament 
have  the  levying  and  diftribution  of  money,  which  is  a 
fufficient  reftraint. 

Hi.  The  third  obfervation  is  that  the  ruling  part  of  any 
flate  muft  always  have  confiderable  property,  chiefly  of 
lands.  The  reafon  is,  property  has  fuch  an  invariable 
influence,  that  whoever  poffelTes  property  muft  have 
power.  Property  ia  a  flate  is  alfo  fome  fccurity  for 
fidelity,  becaufe  intereft  then  is  concerned  in  the  public 
welfare. 

Vol.  IIL  U  -u 


i: 


3  J  Lectures  on 


For  this  reafoii  did  men  in  every  flate  live  entirely  by 
agriculture,  an  agrarian  law  would  be  neeeflary  tolibert)^^ 
'  becauie  if  a  vail  proportion  of  property  came  into  a  few 
hands,  they  would  foon  take  all  power  to  themfelves. 
But  trade  and  commerce  fupercede  the  necefiity  of  this, 
becaufe  the  great  and  fudden  fortunes  accumulated  by 
trade  caufe  a  rotation  of  property. 

IV.  In  a  well  formed  flate  the  fubje^ts  fhould  not  be 
too  numerous,  nor  too  few.  If  very  numerous,  the 
principles  of  government  cannot  exert  their  force  over 
the  whole.  The  Roman  empire  fell  by  its  own  weight* 
K  the  fubje£ls  are  too  few,  they  are  not  fuflicient  to  fup- 
prefs  internal  infurre£lions,  or  repel  attacks  from  with- 
out. 

V.  It  is  frequently  obferved,  that  in  every  government 
there  is  a  in  pre  me  irrefiftible  power  lodged  fome  where, 
in  king,  fenate,  or  people.  To  this  power  is  the  final 
appeal  in  all  queilions.  Beyond  this  we  cannot  go. 
How  far  does  this  authority  extend  ?  We  anfwer  as  far 
Is  authorit}^  in  a  focial  iiate  can  extend,  it  is  not  account- 
able to  any  other  tribunal,  and  it  is  fuppofed  in  the  focial 
compadl:  that  we  have  agreed  to  fubmit  to  its  decifion. 
There  is  however  an  exception,  if  the  fupreme  power 
wherever  lodged,  come  to  be  exercifed  in  a  manifeftly 
tyrannical  manner,  the  fubje6ts  may  certainly  if  in 
tiieir  power,  refift  and  oi^erthrow  it.  But  this  is  only 
when  it  becomes  manifeftly  more  advantageous  to  unfet- 
tle  the  government  altogether  than  to  fubmit  to  tyranny. 
This  refiftance  to  the  fupreme  power  however,  is  fubvert- 
ing  the  Ibciety  altogether,  and  is  not  to  be  attempted  till 
the  government  is  fo  corrupt  as  that  anarchy  and  the  un- 
certainty of  a  new  fettlement  is  preferable  to  the  continu- 
ance as  it  is. 

This  dodrine  of  rehftance  even  to  the  fupreme  power 
is  eiTentially  connected  with  what  has  been  faid  on  the 
focial  contrail:,  and  the  confent  neceflary  to  political 
union.  If  it  be  allied  who  muft  judge  when  the  govern* 
ment  may  be  rcfifted,  I  anfwer  the  fubje6ls  in  general, 
every  one  for  himfelf.  This  may  feem  to  be  making 
tl^m  both  judge  and  party,  but  there  is  no  remedy.     It 


Moral  Philosophy,  339 

would  be  denying  the  privilege  altogether,  to  make  the 
oppreffive  ruler  the  judge. 

It  is  eafy  to  lee  that  the  meaning  of  this  is  not,  that 
any  little  miflake  of  the  rulers  of  any  fociety  will  jullify 
refiftance.  We  mull  obey  and  fubmit  to  them  always,  till 
the  corruption  becomes  intolerable,  for  to  fay  that  we 
might  refifl:  legal  authoiity  every  time  we  judged  it  to 
be  wrong,  would  be  inconfiflent  with  a  Hate  of  fociety, 
and  to  the  very  iirft  idea  of  fubje6lion. 

The  once  fam.ous  controverfy  on  paiTive  obedience  and 
and  non-refiflance,  feems  now  in  our  country  to  be  pret- 
ty much  over ;  what  the  advocates  for  fubmiffion  ufed  to 
fay  was,  that  to  teach  the  lawful nefs  of  refilling  a  govern- 
ment in  any  inflance,  and  to  make  the  rebel  the  judge, 
is  fubverfive  of  all  order,  and  mufl  fcbje(^  a  ftate  to  per- 
petual fedition  ;  to  which  I  anfwer,  to  refufe  this  inhe- 
rent right  in  every  .man,  is  to  eftablifli  injuftice  and  ty- 
ranny, and  leave  every  good  fubje6l  without  help,  as  a 
tame  prey  to  the  ambition  and  rapacity  of  others.  No 
doubt  men  may  abufe  the  privilege,  yet  this  does  not 
make  it  void.  Befides  it  is  not  till  a  whole  people  rife, 
that  refrftance  has  any  elFecl,  audit  is  not  eafy  to  fuppofe 
:tbat  a  whole  people  would  rile  againft  their  governors, 
unlefs  when  they  have  really  received  very  great  provo- 
cation. Whereas  on  the  other  hand,  nothing  is  more 
natural  than  for  rulers  to  grafp  at  power,  and  their 
cfituation  enables  them  to  do  it  foccefsfuUy  by  flow  and 
infenfible  encroachments.  In  experience  there  are  ma- 
ny inftances  of  rulers  becoming  tyrants,  but  compara- 
tively, very  fev/  of  caufelefs  and  premature  rebellions. 
There  are  cccafional  and  partial  infurrections  in  tVQYj 
government.  Thefe  are  eafily  raifed  by  intereiled  per- 
Ibns,  but  the  great  majority  continues  to  fupport  order. 

Vf.  Dominion,  it  is  plain  from  all  that  has  been  laid 
can  be  acquired  jufdy  only  one  way,  viz.  by  confent. 
There  are  two  other  ways  commonly  mentioned,  both 
ot  which  are  defective,  inheritance  and  conqueil.  He- 
reditary power  which  originally  rofe  from  confent,  and  is 
fuppofed  to  be  founded  upon  the  continuance  of  confent,, 
.,(as  that  of  the  hereditary  power    in  a  limited   mona^r^ 


34Q  Lecturer  on 

cby)is  as  lawful  as  any,  but  when  they  pretend  fuch  a  right 
from  nature,  is  independent  of  the  people,  it  is  abfurd. 

That  which  is  called  the  right  of  conquefl  ought  to  be 
exploded  altogether.  We  fhall  fee  by  and  by  what  is  the 
right  of  a  conqueror  in  a  juft  war.  It  was  his  right  before, 
and  he  obtains  pofleffion  of  it  by  conquefl.  But  to 
found  any  claim  merely  on  conquefl:  is  not  a  right,  but 
robbery. 

Upon  the  whole,  I  will  conclude  with  a  few  remarks 
upon  the  fpirit  and  tendency  of  different  forms  of  govern- 
ment. 

1.  Monarchical  government  has  a  tendency  to  polite- 
nefs  and  elegance  of  manners,  and  generally  to  luxury. 
The  fubmiffion  and  obfequioufnefs  pra(^l:ifed  at  the  court 
of  a^monarch,  difFulTes  itfelf  through   the  whole  (late. 

2.  Arifl:ocracy  narrows  the  mind  exceedingly,  and 
indeed  cannot  long  fubfifl:  in  a  large  ftate.  A  fmall  arif- 
tocracy  however  may  fubfill  as  a  form  of  government, 
as  long  as  any  other  method,  or  longer. 

3.  Democracy  tends  to  plainnefs  and  freedom  of 
fpeech,  and  fometimes  to  a  favage  and  indecent  ferocity. 
Democracy  is  the  nurfe  of  eloquence,  becaufe  when  the 
multitude  have  the  power,  perfuafion  is  the  only  way  to 
govern  them. 

Let  us  now  afk  this  fliort  queflion,  what  is  the  value 
and  advantage  of  civil  liberty  ? 

Is  it  necelTary  to  virtue  ?  This  cannot  be  fuppofed. 
A  virtuous  mind  and  virtuous  condu6l  is  poflible,  and 
perhaps  equally  poffible  in  every  form  of  government.     7 

Is  it  necelTary  to  perfonal  private  happinels  ?  It  may  feem 
fo.  We  fee  the  fubje6ts  of  arbitrary  governments  however 
not  ouly  happy,  but  very  often  they  have  a  greater  attach- 
ment to  their  form  of  government  than  thofe  of  free  flates 
hc^ve  to  theirs.  And  if  contentment  be  necellary  to  happi- 
nefs,  there  is  commonly  more  impatience  and  difcontent 
in  a  free  flate  than  in  any  other.  The  tyranny  even  of 
an  abfolute  monarch  does  not  afFet^l:  with  perfonal  injury 
^ny  of  his  fubjefts  but  a  few,  and  chiefly  thofe  who 
inake  it  their  choice  to  be  near  him.     Perhaps  in  fre^ 


Moral  Philosophy.  341 

governments  the  law  and  the  mob  do  more  mifchief  to 
private  property  than  is  done  in  any  abfolute  monar- 
chy. 

What  then  is  the  advantage  of  civil  liberty  ?  I  fuppofe 
it  chiefly  confills  in  its  tendency  to  put  in  motion  all  the 
human  powers.  Therefore  it  promotes  indullry,  and  in 
this  refpeff  happinefs, — produces  every  latent  quality,  and 
improves  the  human  mind. — Liberty  is  the  nurfe  of 
riches,  literature  and  heroifm. 


LECTURE    Xm. 

Of  the  Law  of  Nature  and  Nations. 

THE  next  thing  in  order,  is  to  treat  of  what  is  call- 
ed the  law  of  nature  and  natio7is.  It  has  been 
before  obferved,  that  feparate  and  independent  flates  are 
with  regard  to  one  another  in  a  Hate  of  natural  liberty,  or 
as  man  to  man  before  the  commencement  of  civil  foci- 
ety.  On  this  feveral  queflions  arife.  (i)  Is  there  any 
fuch  law  ?  (2)  What  is  the  law  ?  (3)  What  is  its  fancti- 
on,  or  how  is  it  to  be  enforced  ? 

That  there  is  fuch  a  law  is  plain  from  the  reafons  that 
fhow  the  obligation  which  one  man  lies  under  to  ano- 
ther. If  there  are  natural  rights  of  men,  there  are  na- 
tural rights  of  nations.  Bodies  politic  in  this  view,  do 
not  differ  in  the  leaft  from  individuals.  Therefore  as  be- 
fore, reafon,  confcience,  and  common  utility,  fhow  that 
there  is  a  law  of  nature  and  nations. 

The  queilion  what  it  is  ?  Mufl  be  confidered  in  the 
fame  manner.  I  am  not  able  to  recolle6l  any  perfedt  or 
imperfedl  right  that  can  belong  to  one  man,  as  dillin- 
guiflied  from  another,  but  what  belongs  to  nations,  fave 
that  there  is  ufually  lefs  occafion  for  the  imperfed  rights. 
If  we  read  over  the  perfedl  rights,  in  a  fhte  of  natural 
liberty,  (page  319)  we  ljic;ll  fee  they  all  apply  to  nati- 
ons. 


342  Lectures  on 

It  will  alfo  appear  that  the  imperfe6l  rights  apply  ;  but 
the  occafions  of  exerting  them  are  much  more  rare.  For 
example,  it  is  more  rare  to  fee  a  nation  in  a  ftate  of 
general  indigence,  fo  as  to  require  a  fuppiy.  Yet  this 
foinctimes  happens.  It  did  lb  in  the  cafe  of  Portugal,  at 
the  time  of  the  great  earth-quake  at  Lilbon.  And  the 
other  nations  of  Europe  lent  them  affiftance.  It  is  alfo 
from  this  principle  that  fhips  of  different  nations,  meeting 
at  fea,  will  do  a6ls  of  humanity  to  one  another.  Some- 
times alfo  there  are  national  favors  that  deferve  natio- 
nal gratitude.  But  this  is  feidom  merited,  and  I  believe. 
Hill  feldomer  paid. 

As  to  the  fand:ion  of  the  law  of  nature  and  nations,  it 
is  no  other  than  a  general  fenfe  of  duty,  and  fuch  a  fenfe 
of  common  utility,  as  makes  men  fear  that  if  they  noto- 
rioully  break  thefe  laws,  reproach  and  infamy  among  all 
nations  will  be  the  effed:,  and  probably  refentment  and 
indignation  by  common  confent. 

The  violation  of  the  natural  rights  of  mankind  being  a 
tranfgreffion  of  the  law  of  nature,  and  between  nations  as 
in  a  ftate  of  natural  liberty,  there  being  no  method  of  re- 
drefs  but  force,  the  law  of  nature  and  nations  has  as  its 
chief  or  only  objedl  the  manner  of  making  war  2iwd peace. 

In  war  it  is  proper  to  confider  diftinclly,  (i.)  The  cau- 
fes  for  which  a  juft  war  may  be  carried  on.  (2.)  The  time 
of  commencing.  (3.)  The  duration.  (4.)  The  means  by 
which  it  may  be  carried  on. 

As  to  the  firft,  the  caufes  of  commencing  war  are  ac- 
cording to  the  principles  above  laid  down,  the  violation 
of  any  perfect  right— as  taking  away  the  property  of  the 
other  ftate,  or  the  lives  of  its  fubjecls,  or  retraining  them 
in  their  induftry,  or  hindering  them  in  the  ufe  of  things 
common,  Sec.  There  is  only  one  perfe6t  right,  the  viola- 
tion of  which  does  not  feem  to  be  a  caufe  of  war  ;  I  mean 
that  by  which  we  have  a  right  to  character.  National  ca- 
lumny is  fcarcely  a  caufe  of  war,  becaufe  it  cannot  be  fre- 
quent or  of  great  effed.  The  violation  of  impcrfe6t  rights 
cannot  ufually  be  a  caufe  of  war  between  nations  ;  yet  a 
cafe  may  be  fuppofed,  in  which  even  thefe  v/ould  be  a  juft 
caufe  of  war.     Suppofe  a   fliip  of  any  nation  fliould  gQ 


Moral  Philosophy,  '34j> 

into  a  port  of  another,  in  the  greateft  diftrefs,  and  not  on- 
ly the  people  in  general,  but  the  governing  part  of  the 
fociety  ihouid  deny  them  all  alTiftance — This  would  be  an 
a<Sl  of  fuch  notorious  inhumanity,  and  of  fuch  evil  exam- 
ple, that  it  may  juftify  national  refentment;  and  yet  even 
here,  I  think  there  fhould  firll  be  a  demand  of  juflice  upon 
the  offending  perfons,  before  vengeance  fhould  be  taken 
upon  the  ilate. 

Thefe  are  the  juft  and  legitimate  caufes  of  making  wan 
Some  add  to  them,  that  when  a  nation  is  feen  to  put  it- 
feif  in  fuch  a  fituation  as  to  defence,  or  as  to  the  means  of 
annoying  others,  that  it  feems  to  threaten  hoflilities,  then 
we  are  not  obliged  to  wait  till  it  hath  committed  adlual 
injury,  but  may  put  it  in  a  flate  of  incapacity  :  but  there 
is  no  other  truth  in  this,  but  what  is  founded  upon  the 
other;  for  the  prefervation  of  our  property  implies,  that 
if  others  take  fuch  meafures  as  are  not  to  be  accounted  foi" 
but  upon  the  fuppofition  of  an  intention  of  wronging  me, 
it  is  often  eafier  and  fafer  to  prevent  and  difarm  the  robber^ 
than  to  fuffer  him  to  commit  the  violence,  and  then  to 
ftrip  him  and  rob  him  of  his  prey. 

One  thing  more  is  to  be  added,  that  every  nation  has  a 
right  to  join  which  it  pleafes  of  two  contending  parties. 
This  is  eafdy  refolved  into  the  general  principles  ;  for  the 
injured  party  may  be  fuppofed  to  go  to  war  in  defence  of 
fome  perfect  right ;  and  the  caufe  being  juft,  the  imper- 
fect right  of  humanity,  as  well  as  general  and  common 
utility,  calls  for  afliilance  to  the  opprelfed.  So  that  if  we 
have  a  right  to  affociate  with  any  nation,  we  may  be  en- 
titled to  prote6l  their  property  and  rights. 

2.  As  to  the  time  of  commencing  war,  it  feems  to  be 
no  way  contrary  to  natural  law  to  fay  it  is  at  any  time  the 
injured  party  pleafes,  after  having  received  an  injury  ;  but 
accident  or  utility,  or  a  defire  in  each  party  to  manifeft 
the  equity  of  their  caufe,  has  introduced  univerfally  the 
cuftom  of  declaring  war.  This  begun  very  early,  and 
though  not  of  abfolute  right,  having  been  generally  intro- 
duced, muft  be  continued,  though  there  is  often  more  of 
form  than  of  fubftance  in  it ;  for  nations  do  often  begin 
both  attack  and  defence  before  declaration,  as  well  as  make 


344  Lectures  on 

all  the  necelTary  preparations  for  finking  the  moft  effec- 
tual blow.  The  meaning  of  a  declaration  of  war  feems 
to  be,  to  call  upon  the  injured  party  to  prevent  it  by  re- 
paration— Likcwife  to  manifeft  to  all  other  Itates,  the  juf- 
tice  of  the  caufe. 

3.  The  duration  of  a  war  fhould  be  according  to  natu- 
ral equity,  till  the  injury  be  completely  redreffed,  and  rea- 
foiiable  fecurity  given  againft  future  attacks :  therefore  the 
practice  too  common  of  continuing  a  war  for  the  acquifi- 
tion  of  empire  is  to  be  condemned*  Becaufe  one  ftate 
has  done  fome  injury  to  another,  it  feems  quite  unreafon- 
ahle  that  they  (hould  not  only  repair  the  injury,  but  fub- 
^ert  and  ruin  the  offending  liate  altogether — this  would 
be  unreafonable  between  man  and  man,  if  one  had 
v;ronged  another,  not  only  to  repair  the  wrong,  but  to 
take  all  the  reft  that  he  had,  and  reduce  his  family  to 
beggary.  It  is  even  more  unreafonable  in  ftates,  becaufe 
the  offenders  in  ftates  are  not  to  be  fuppofed  to  be  the 
whole  people,  but  only  the  rulers  or  perhaps  only  fome 
individuals. 

Perhaps  it  may  he  allied  what  is  reasonable  fecurity 
a^gainft  future  injury.  I  anfwer,  between  equal  indepen- 
dent nations,  folemn  treaties  ought  to  be  confidered  as 
fecurity,  but  if  faith  has  been  often  broken,  perhaps  fome- 
thing  more  may  be  required.  The  mutual  complaints 
of  nations  againft  each  other  for  breach  of  faith,  makes 
conquerors  often  demand  fuch  a  degree  of  fecurity,  as 
puts  the  conquered  altogether  in  their  power. 

4.  As  to  the  legitimate  means  of  carrying  on  the  war,  in 
general  it  maybe  faid  in  one  word  by  force  or  open  violence. 
It  is  admitted  on  all  hands,  that  this  force  may  be  uled 
againft  the  perfon  and  goods  not  only  of  the  rulers,  but  of 
every  member  of  the  hollile  ftate.  This  may  feem  hard, that 
innocent  fubjedts  of  the  ftate  fliould  fufferfor  the  folly  and 
indifcretion  of  the  rulers,  or  of  other  members  of  the  fame 
ftate,  but  it  is  unavoidable.  The  whole  individuals  that 
compofe  a  ftate,  are  confidered  but  as  one  body  ;  it  would 
be  impoffible  for  an  enemy  to  diftinguifti  the  guilty  from 
the  innocent;  and  when  men  fubmit  to  a  government, 
they  riftc  their  own  poffeffions  on  tlie  fame  bottom  with  the 
whole,  in  return  for  the  benefits  of  focicty. 


Moral  Philosophy,  345 

Open  violence  may  be  faid  to  have  no  bounds,  and 
therefore  every  niethod  that  can  be  invented  and  the  mod 
deadly  weapons  of  annoyance  may  feem  to  be  permit- 
ted— But  from  what  has  been  faid  above  and  upon  the 
principles  of  general  equity,  all  ads  of  cruelty  and  inhu- 
manity are  to  be  blamed, — and  all  fe verity  that  has  not  an 
immediate  efFeil  in  weakening  the  national  flrength  of  the 
enemy  is  certainly  inhumanity — Such  as  killing  prifoners 
whom  you  can  keep  fafely — killing  women  and  children 
— burning  and  deilroying  every  thing  that  could  be  of 
ufe  in  life. 

The  ufe  of  poifoned  w^eapons  has  been  alfo  generally 
condemned — the  poifoning  of  fprings  or  provifions. 

To  the  honor  of  modern  times,  and  very  probably  I 
think  to  the  honor  of  chriftianity,  there  is  much  more  hu- 
manity in  the  way  of  carrying  on  war  than  formerly. 

To  aim  particularly  at  the  life  of  a  leader  or  perfon  of 
chief  note,  feems  to  have  nothing  in  it  unjufl  or  impro- 
per, becaufe  the  more  important  the  life,  it  does  more  to- 
ward the  finiihing  of  the  war  ;  but  v/hat  many  fcem  to  ad- 
mit, the  bribing  of  his  own  people  to  affafTmate  him  pri- 
vatelv,  I  cannot  think  honorable  or  fur. 

Aqueilion  is  often  moved  in  morals,  how  far  it  is  law- 
ful to  deceive  an  enemy,  efpecially  if  we  hold  the  general 
and  univerfal  obligation  of  truth.     To  this  it  may  be  an- 
fwered,  in  the  firll  place  that  we'  may  certainly  with  great 
juilice  conceal  our  ow^n  defigns  from   an   enemy — as  in- 
deed Vv'e  may  generally  from  friends  by  filence  and  guard- 
ing againii:  every  circumilance   that    may  betray  them. 
Neither  do  I  think  there  is  any  thing  at  all  blame-worthy 
in  a  general  of  an  army  ufmg  ambiguous  figns,  as  feigned 
marches  of  a  part  or  the  whole,  putting  up  lights  or  fuch 
things,  becaufe  after  a  declaration  of  war  he  does  not  pre- 
tend to  give  information  to  his  enemy  of  his  motions,  nay 
it  is  expected  on  both  fides  that  they  will  do  the  bed  they 
can  to  over-reach  one  another  in  point  of  prudence.     Yet 
I  can  fcarce  think  it  right  to  employ  people    to  go  to  the 
enemy  and  profeiTing  to  be  fincere,  tell  dired  falfehoods, 
and  deceive  them  by  that  falfe  intelligence. 

Vol.  III.  X  X 


2,4^  Lectures  on 

It  is  the  ciirLom  of  all  to  fend  fplcs  to  dlfcover  tlie  en-r- 
TTiy's  deii?.:^ns^  and  alfo  to  bribe  foine  of  tb.eenemies  them- 
fehv^cS  to  difcover  the  defigris  of  their  leaders — The  lali  of 
■which  is,  I  think,  at  leallof  a  doubtrul  nature,  or  rather  un- 
liifl: — Thon,f^h  fending  fpies  is  by  all  ajiproved,  yet  (what 
may  feem  a  litUe  unaccountable)  fueh  fpies  are  always  pu- 
niihed  v/ith  inllant  death  by  the  oppofite  fide  when  detect- 
ed. Tiie  reafon  probably  is,  that  pretending  friendiliip 
diey  have  a  right  to  confider  them  as  traitors — Or  as  they 
are  in  an  a.<^l  of  hoftUlty  they  kiU  them  as  they  would  do- 
an  enemy  in  battle  when  in  their  power, 

Thefe  circum fiances  apply  to  all  war  in  general  ;  but 
there  is  a  diriin6lion  of  wars  by  civilians  into  two  kinds, 
solemn  and  cii^H.  11ie  firft  includes  alt  wars  between 
ftates  formerly  independent,  the  other  internal  infurredi- 
onsofapart  of  one  government  againll  another. 

I'here  has  generally  been  a  great  difTerence  in  the  be- 
havior of  the  oppofite  parties  in  thefe  dilferent  wars.  In 
,  folemn  wars  tliere  is  a  prefumption  of  integrity  in  the 
plurality  on  both  fides,  each  believes  his  own  caufe  to  be 
jiifl-.  On  this  account  they  are  to  be  treated  with  the 
more  humanit)^  In  civil  v.ars  the  infurgents  are  con- 
fidered  as  making  unjud  refiftance  to  the  ruling  part  of 
the  fociety,  and  therefore  guilty  of  the  greateft  crimes 
againll  fociety.  Therefore  they  are  often  treated  witli 
great  rigor,  and  when  taken  in  battle,  referved  to  folemn 
trial  and  public  execution.  There  is  fome  reafon  for 
this  in  many  cafes,  when  it  is  indeed  an  unreafonable 
or  unprovoked  iiifurre6lion  of  diforderly  citizens  ;  but 
there  are  many  cafes  in  which  the  pretences  on  both  iides 
are  fo  planfible,  tha.t  the  war  fhould  be  in  all  refpecls 
tonfidered  as  folemn. 

It  (fiould  be  obferved,  notwithf  andingthe  hofrile  difpcftr* 
on, there  are  occafions.both  in  a  treaty  for  peace  andjduring 
the  continuance  of  the  war,  when  enemies  are  under  the 
itrongefi:  obligations  to  fincerity  in  their  behavior  to  each 
o'he'-. — Wh:3n  propofals  are  made  for  accommodating" 
the  differences,  for  a  fufpenfion  of  arms,  for  an  exchange 
©f  prifoners,  or  any  thing  fimilar. 


Mm'al  Philosophy,  347 

It  13  worth  while  to  inquire,  whether  the  greatefl  ho- 
nor and  candor  in  war,  with  a  llridt  adherence  to  all  the 
laws  above  kiid  down,  would  give  any  party  a  great  ad- 
Vantage  who  ihoLild  talie  the  liberty  of  tranrgreiTing  thein 
— as  for  example,  vvlio  fliould  ufe  poilbned  weapons — ' 
Jlioidd  fend  people  to  tell  falfe  llorics — fliOLild  bribe  fab- 
jedls  to  airaflinate  a  lioftile  prince — I  anfwer,  that  they 
would  have  no  advantage  at  all,  but  probably  the  contrary.. 
There  is  fomething  powerful  in  nnagnanimity,  which  fub- 
dues  the  hearts  of  enemies;  nay,  fometrnies  terrifies  thqnii, 
and  particularly  infplres  a  generaFsarmy  with  invincible 
courage,  Befidcs  thefe,  finider  arts  are  not  fo  terrible  as 
may  be  imagined — telling  falfe  news  is  as  ea.iiiy  difco- 
x^ered  as  any  trick  Vv'hatfoever, 

Prudence  and  iiitegrity  have  no  iieed  of  any  afliftancq 
from  fraud — adls  even  of  generoiity  from  enemy  to  ene- 
my are  often  as  ufeful  as  any  aO.s  of  hofiiiity.  There 
was  fomething  very  handfome  in  tlie  Roman  general, 
who  refufed  to  avail  himfelf  of  the  treachery  of  a  fchooi- 
mader,  as  well  as  whimfical  in  the  way  in  which  he  pa\ 
liifhed  the  traitor^ 

Of  Making  Peace^ 

As  already  hinted  all  propofals  tending  to.  this  purpofa 
ought  to  be  made  with  the  utmoft  fincerity.  Of  all  de- 
ceits in  war  the  moll  infamous  is  that  of  making  a  treaty^ 
or  feeking  a  conference,  only  to  take  advantage  of  the 
fecurity  of  one  party  to  deftroy  him — by  alTafiination  or 
by  breaking  a  truce  to  fight  with  advantage. 

The  terms  of  peace  ought  to  be  agreeable  to  tiiC  end 
of  making  war.  Damages  fhould  be  repaired,  and  fe- 
curity given  againfl  future  injury. 

We  have  often  faid  that  nation  to  nation  is  as  man  to 
man  in  a  Hate  of  natural  liberty  ;  therefore  treaties  of 
peace  between  nations  ikould  in  general  proceed  upon, 
the  fame  principles  as  private  contrafts  between  man  and 
man.  There  is  however  an  exception,  that  coniradls  be- 
tween individuals  are  (at  leail  by  lav/)  always  void  when 
they  are  the  eiied  of  couflraint  upon  one  fide.     Now  thiii 


34^  Lectures  on 

mufi:  not  hold  in  treaties  between  nations,  becaufe  it 
would  always  furnifn  a  pretext  for  breaking  them.  On 
the  fide  of  the  conquered  a  treaty  is  always  in  a  great  de- 
gree the  efFe6l  of  necellity. 

It  is  generally  however  laid  down  in  moft  authors  as 
a  principle,  that  the  terms  impofed  and  fubmitted  to  may 
be  fometimes  fo  rigorous  and  oppreiTive,  as  to  jullify  the 
injured  party  in  revolting  w1ien  they  are  able.  This 
feems  to  me  to  be  very  lax  in  point  of  morals.  It  would 
be  better  I  think  to  fay,  that  the  people  who  made  the 
treaty  Ihould  not  recede  from  it.  Their  poflerity  how- 
ever, at  fome  dillance  cannot,  be  fuppofed  bound  to  unjufl 
fervitude  by  the  deeds  of  their  fathers. 

Let  us  conclude  this  fubje(5t  by  a  ^tw  remarks  on  the 
fituation  of  neutral  ftates. 

1.  Every  flate  has  a  right  when  others  are  contending 
to  remain  neuter,  and  aiFiit  neither  party. 

2.  They  have  a  right  to  all  their  former  privileges  with 
both  the  contending  parties — may  carry  on  their  traffic 
with  both,  and  may  fhow  all  the  ufual  marks  of  friend- 
fhip  to  both — only  it  has  been  generally  agreed  upon  that 
they  are  not  to  ti'ade  with  any  of  them  in  certain  arttcles 
fuppofed  to  be  of  confequence  in  can"ying  on  war,  parti- 
cularly provifions  and  arms. 

3.  Neutral  powers  fliculd  keep  their  harbors  alike  open 
to  both  for  common  refrefhment,  and  as  an  afylum  to  fly 
to.  And  it  is  held  neceflary  that  the  contending  powers 
mull  not  carry  on  their  quarn-"!  nor  exercife  any  hofdlities 
within  the  territories  of  a  neutral  ftate. 

4.  Neutral  ftates  may  purchafe  moveable  goods  from 
any  of  the  contending  parties  which  have  been  taken 
from  the  other.  But  not  fo  with  refpecl  to  lands  or  forts, 
becaufe  if  the  other  party  are  able  they  will  re -take  their 
pofl'effions. 

5.  Deeds  of  a  violent  pofleffor  are  held  to  be  valid,  that 
is  to  fay,  if  a  conqueror  prevails  for  a  time,  and  levies 
tribute  from  any  country,  and  afterwards  the  rightful  pof- 
felTor  prevails,  it  would  be  unjuil  to  demand  the  tribute 
again,  becaufe  the  true  owner  was  not  able  to  give  pro- 
tection to  the  fubjeds,  and  what  was  paid  was  loft  through 


Moral  Philosophy.  349 

his  weaknefs.  The  fame  thing  may  be  faid  of  a  depen- 
dant flatc  ;  if  it  owes  any  money  and  fervice  to  a  fiipreme 
flate,  and  an  efiemy  exacl  it  by  force,  the  proper  creditor 
"cannot  jufdy  demand  it  again. 

On  the  whole,  thofe  things  that  have  been  generally 
received  as  the  hiw  of  nature  and  nations,  are  founded 
on  the  principles  of  equity,  and  when  well  obferved  da 
greatly  promote  general  utility. 


LECTURE    XIV. 


Jurisprudence. 


J 


TURI3PRUDENCE  is  the  method  of  enading  and 
adminiilering  civil  laws  in  any  conllitution. 

We  cannot  propofe  to  go  through  a  fyllem  of  civil 
laws,  afid  therefore  what  I  have  in  view  is  to  make  fome 
preliminary  remarks,  and  then  to  point  out  the  object  of 
civil  laws,  and  the  manner  of  their  operation. 

I.  Tiie  firll  preliminary  remark  is,  that  a  conftitution 
is  excellent  when  the  fpirit  of  the  civil  laws  is  fuch  as  to 
have  a  tendency  to  prevent  offences  and  make  men  good, 
as  much  as  to  puniih  them  when  they  do  evil. 

This  is  neceflary  in  fome  meafure  ;  for  when  the  ge- 
neral difpofition  of  a  people  is  againft  the  laws,  thev  can- 
not  long  fubfill  even  by  a  Itridl  and  rigorous  execution  on 
the  part  of  the  rulers.  There  is  however  more  of  this 
in  fome  conflitutions  than  in  others.  Solon  and  Zeno- 
phon,  as  well  as  Lycurgus,  feem  to  have  formed  their 
plan  very  much  with  this  view,  to  direct  the  manners  of 
the  people  in  the  firfl  place,  which  will  always  make  the 
obfervation  of  particular  laws  eafy. 

Buthow  iliall  the  magiftrate  manage  this  matter,  or 
what  can  be  done  by  law  to  make  the  people  of  any  ilate 
virtuous  ?  If,  as  we  have  feen  above,  virtue' and  piety  are 
infeparably  connected,  then  to  promote  true  religion  is 
the  bed  and  moft  effectual  way  of  making  a  virtuous  and 
regular  people.     Love  to  God,  and  love  to  man,  is  the 


^jo  Leeiiives  on 

fubftance  of  religion  ;  when  thefe  prevail  civil  lav/$  will 
have  little  to  do. 

But  this  leads  to  a  very  important  difquifition  how 
far  the  magillrate  ought  to  interfere  in  matters  of  religion^ 
Keligicus  fentiments  are  very  various — and  we  have 
given  it  as  one  of  the  perfect  rights  in  natural  liberty,  and 
which  ought  not  to  be  alienated  even  in  fociety,  that 
every  one  fliould  judge  for  himfelf  in  matters  of  religion. 

What  the  magillrate  may  do  on  this  fubje<ft  leems  to  be 
confined  to  the  three  fol]ov>/ing  particulars  : 

(i.)  The  magillrate  (or  ruling  part  of  any  fociety) 
ought  to  encourage  piety  by  his  own  example,  and  by  en- 
deavoring to  make  it  an  objecfl  of  public  ellcem.  When- 
ever the  general  opinion  is  in  favor  of  any  thing  it  will 
have  many  followers.  Magiftrates  may  promote  and  en- 
courage men  of  piety  and  virtue,  and  they  may  dif- 
countenance  thofe  whom  it  would  be  improper  to  piinifh, 

(2.)  The  magillrate  ought  to  defend  the  rights  of  con- 
fcience,  and  tolerate  all  in  their  religious  fentiments  that 
are  not  injurious  to  their  neighbors.  In  the  antient  hea- 
then ftates  there  was  lefs  occafion  for  this,  becaufe  in  the 
Jyllem  of  polytheifm  the  different  gods  and  rites  v/ere 
not  fuppofed  to  be  oppofite,  but  co-ordinate  and  confident; 
but  when  there  is  believed  to  be  but  one  God,  the  fenti- 
ments about  his  nature  and  worfliip  will  often  be  confi- 
dered  as  eiTentially  repugnant  one  to  another. 

The  pretence  of  infidels,  that  perfecution  only  belongs 
to  the  Chriilian  religion,  is  abfurd  ;  for  the  Chriilian  was 
the  firft  religion  that  was  perfecuted,  and  it  was  the  ne- 
ceflary  conlequence  of  faying,  that  the  gpds  of  the  hea- 
thens v/ere  no  gods. 

At  prefent  as  things  are  fituated,  one  of  the  mod  im- 
portant duties  of  the  magiftracy  is  to  proteft  the  rights  of 
confcience. 

It  is  commonly  laid,  however,  that  in  cafe  any  fedl 
holds  tenets  fubverfive  of  fociety  and  inconfiftent  with  the 
rights  of  others  that  they  ought  not  to  be  tolerated.  On 
this  footing  Popery  is  not  tolerated  in  Great  Britain  ; 
becaufe  they  profefs  entire  fubjeQion  to  a  foreign  power, 
the  fee  of  Rome  j  and  therefore  mull  be  in  oppofition;tQ 


Moral  Philosophy.  'isi 

Itie  proper  intereft  of  their  own  flate ;  and  becaufe  vio- 
lence or  perfecution  for  religion  is  a  part  of  their  reli- 
gion, which  makes  their  profperity  threaten  niinto  others 
—as  well  as  the  principle  imputed  to  them,  which  they 
deny,  that  faith  is  not  to  be  kept  with  heretics.  But  how- 
ever juil:  this  may  be  in  a  way  of  reafoning,  we  ought  in 
general  to  guard  againfi;  perfecution  on  a  religious  account 
as  much  as  poflible,  becaufe  fuch  as  hold  abfurd  tenets  are 
feldom  dangerous.  Perhaps  they  are  never  dangerous,  but 
when  they  are  opprefied.  Papifts  are  tolerated  in  Holland 
without  danger  to  liberty.  And  though  not  properly  tole- 
rated, they  are  now  connived  at  in  Britain. 

In  ancient  times,  in  great  dates  the  cenforial  povv^er  was 
found  neceflary  to  their  continuance,  which  infpedled  the 
manners  of  men.  It  feems  probable,  that  fupporting  the 
religious  fe6ls  in  modern  times  anfwers  this  end,  for  die 
particular  difcipline  of  each  fedl:,  is  intended  for  the  cor- 
reQion  of  manners. 

(3.)  The  magiilrate  may  ena6>.  laws  for  the  punifh- 
ment  of  a6ls  of  profanity  and  impiety.  The  different 
fentiments  of  men  in  religion,  ouglit  not  by  any  means 
to  encourage  or  give  a  fan6:ion  to  fuch  a(5ls  as  any  of  them 
count  profane. 

Many  are  of  opinion  that  befides  all  this,  the  magif- 
trate  ought  to  make  public  proviiion  for  the  worihip  of 
God,  in  fuch  manner  as  is  agreeable  to  the  great  body  of 
the  fociety  ;  though  at  the  fame  time  all  who  diffent  ironi 
it,  are  fully  tolerated.  And  indeed  there  feems  to  be  a 
good  deal  of  reafon  for  it,  that  fo  inftruQion  may  be  pro- 
vided for  the  bulk  of  common  people,  who  would,  many 
of  them,  neither  fupport  nor  employ  teachers,  unlels  they 
were  obliged.  The  m;  giilrates  right  in  this  cafe,  feems  la 
be  fomething  like  that  of  the  parent,  they  have  a  right  ta 
inftrudl:,  but  not  to  conRrain. 

(2)  The  fecond  preliminary  remark  is,  that  laws  fhbuld 
be  fo  fram.ed  as  to  promote  fuch  principles  in  general, 
as  are  favorable  to  good  government,  and  particularly  that 
principle,  if  there  be  one,  that  gave  rife  to  the  conitita* 
lip^n,  and  is  congenial  to  it* 


35^  Lectures  on 

Such  a  principle  as  I  have  in  view,  is  f^enerally  the 
point  of  honor  in  a  country,  and  this  lawgivers  and  ad- 
niiniftrators  of  law  Ihould  endeavor  to  preferve  in  its  full 
vigor,  for  whenever  it  is  underminded  the  conltitution 
goes  to  ruin. 

Of  thefe  principles,  fobriety,  induftry,  and  public 
fplrit  are  the  chief.  Some  dates  are  formed  to  fubfill:  by 
fobriety  and  parfimony,  as  the  Lacedemonians. 

Induilry  is  the  prevailing  principle,  in  others,  as  in 
Holland.  Public  fpirit  in  others,  as  in  Greece,  ancient 
Rome,  and  Britain.  Only  public  fpirit  may  be  diver- 
fified,  fometimes  it  is  a  pafhon  for  acquiring  glory  and 
dominion,  as  in  Rome,  and  fometimes  for  preferving 
liberty,  as  in  Greece  and  Britain. 

When  I  {ixy  that  in  the  management  of  a  flate,  the 
utmofr  attention  fhould  be  given  to  the  principle  of  the 
conftitution  to  preferve  it  in  its  vigor,  I  mean  that 
hough  all  other  crimes  are  bad  and  in  part  tend  to  the 
ruin  of  a  flate,  yet  this  is  much  more  the  cafe  with 
crimes  againll  that  principle  than  any  other.  Any  a<^ 
of  immorality  was  bad  at  Sparta,  but  to  make  poverty 
and  parfmiony  reproachful,  and  to  introduce  fine  houfes 
and  furniture  and  delicate  entertainments,  would  have 
been  inllant  ruin. 

Any  ?i&.  of  immorality  would  be  hurtful  in  Holland, 
but  to  make  fraudulent  bankruptcy  lefs  infamous  than  it 
is,   would  immediately  deftroy  them. 

Sobriety,  induflry,  and  public  fpirit  are  nearly  allied, 
and  have  a  reciprocal  influence  upon  ono.  another.  Yet 
there  may  be  a  great  degree  of  fome  of  them  in  the 
abfence  of  the  others.  In  Sparta  there  was  much  fobrie- 
ty and  public  fpirit,  but  little  induftry.  In  Athens,  in- 
dufcry  and  public  fpirit,  with  very  little  parfimony. 

In  oppofition  to  the  whole  of  this,  Mandevilie  wrote  a 
book  called  The  fable  of  the  Bees^  which  feems  to  be 
levelled  againft  fobriety,  indufi:ry  and  public  fpirit,  all' 
at  once;  his  pofition  is,  that  private  vices  are  public  be- 
nefits^ and  that  the  wafi:e  and  luxury  of  one  man  fup- 
plies  the  wants  of  another ;  but  it  is  eafy  to  overthrow  his 
reafoning,  for  though  fober  and  indullrious  perfons  fpend 


Moral  Philosophy .  353 

each  lefs  than  a  profafe  perfon,  yet  fobriety  and  induftry 
tend  much  more  to  population,  and  by  that  means  they 
are  mutually  ferviceable  to  each  other.  Luxury  and 
vice  only  wafte  and  deflroy,  they  add  nothing  to  the 
commoii  flock  of  property  or  of  happinefs.  Experience 
fully  juiHfies  this,  for  though  from  the  luxury  of  one  man 
another  may  reap  fome  gain,  the  luxury  of  a  nation  al- 
ways tends  to  the  ruin  of  that  nation. 

(3)  A  third  preliminary  remark  is,  that  laws  may  be 
of  two  kinds,  either  written  or  in  the  breads  of  miM4- 
Urates.  In  every  conflitution  of  note,  there  is  fomething 
of  each  of  thefe  kinds.  It  is  uncertain  whether  it  is  bet- 
ter to  liave  many  or  few  fpecial  laws.  On  the  one  hand 
it  feems  to  be  the  very  fpiritof  a  free  conflitution  to  have 
every  thing  as  flridlly  defined  as  pofTible,  and  to  leave 
little  in  the  power  of  the  judge.  But  on  the  other  hand, 
a  multiplicity  of  laws  is  fo  apt  to  lead  to  litigation  and 
to  end  in  ambiguity,  that  perhaps  judges  of  equity  cho- 
fen  by  the  diftriclin  which  they  live  and  are  to  adl:,  and 
chofen  but  for  a  time,  would  be  a  more  jufl  and  equi- 
table method  of  ending  differences.  But  the  difliculty  of 
fettling  a  conflitution  fo  as  always  to  fecure  the  election 
of  impartial  judges,  has  made  modern  flates,  vi^here  there 
is  liberty,  prefer  a  multiplicity  of  written  laws. 

(4)  The  lail  preliminary  remark  is  that  no  human 
conflitution  can  be  fo  formed,  but  that  there  mull  be  ex- 
ceptions to  every  law.  So  that  there  may  be  in  every 
nation  opprefTion  under  form  of  law,  according  to  the 
old  maxim,  fummum  jus,  fumma  injuria.  This  fur- 
ther lliews  the  necefFity  of  forming  the  manners  of  a 
people. 

After  having  laid  down  thefe  preliminaries,  we  may 
obferve  that  the  objed  of  civil  laws  may  be  divided  into 
the  three  following  par  ijularr. 

I.  To  ratify  the  moral  laws  by  the  fan6lion  of  the  fo- 
ciety.  The  tranfgreifion  of  fuch  laws  are  called  crimes 
as  profanity,  adultery,  murder,  calumny.  Sic.  And 
they  are  prolecuted  and  puniflied  by  order  of  the  public 
according  to  the  fplrit  of  every  conftitution. 

t:  To  lay  down  a  plan  for  all  contradls  in   the  com- 

VoL.  III.  Y  y   . 


354  Lectures  on 

merce  or  iritercourre  between  man  and  man.  To  fliow 
when  a  contradl  is  valid,  and  how  to  be  proved.  The 
tranlgreflions  of  fuch  laws  are  called  frauds.  They 
chiefly  regard  the  acquifition,  tranfniifTion,  or  alienation 
of  property. 

3.  To  limit  and  diredl  perfons  in  the  exercife  of 
their  own  rights,  and  oblige  them  to  fliow  refpe6t  to  the 
inierfering  rights  of  others.  This  contains  the  whole  of 
what  is  called  the  police  of  a  country. — And  the  tranf- 
grelTion  of  fuch  laws  are  called  trefpalles.  K  number  of 
things  in  this  view  may  become  illegal  which  before  were 
not  immoral. 

Of  the  Sanction  of  the  Moral  Laws, 

In  all  poliflied  nations,  there  are  punifliments  annexed 
to  the  tranfgrefiion  of  the  moral  laws,  whether  againll 
God,  our  neighbor,  or  ourfelves  ;  in  the  doing  of  whiclx^ 
the  three  following  things  are  chiefly  neceffary. 

(i.)  To  determine  what  crimes  and  what  degree  of 
the  fame  crime,  are  to  be  inquired  into  by  the  civil  ma- 
gi Urate.  It  is  of  necefTity  that  in  a  free  flate  crimes 
iliould  be  precifely  defined,  that  men  may  not  be  ig- 
norantly  or  rafiily  drawn  into  them.  There  are  degrees 
of  every  crime — profanity,  impurity,  violence,  llan- 
der,  that  areblameable  in  point  of  morals,  nay,  even  fuch 
as  may  fall  under  the  difcipline  of  a  religious  fociet\' — 
that  if  they  were  made  cognifable  by  the  civil  magiftrate, 
would  multiply  laws  and  trials  beyond  meafure. 

(2.)  To  appoint  the  methods  of  afcertaining  the  com- 
m'ffion  of  crimes.  This  is  ufually  by  teftimony,  in. 
w^hich  we  are  to  coafider  the  number  and  character  of 
the  witnelTes.  Generally  through  chriftendom,  and  in- 
deed mod  other  parts  of  the  world  two  witneffes  have, 
been  efleemed  necellary  to  fix  crimes  upon  an  accufed  per- 
fori ;  not  but  that  the  pofitive  evidence  of  one  perfon 
of  judgment  and  untainted  charaCler  is  in  many  cafes 
fufiicient  to  gain  belief,  and  often  flronger  than  two  of 
unknown  or  doubtful  credit,  but  it  was  necefikry 
to  lay  down  fome  rule,  and  two  are  required  to  guard 


Moral  Philosophy,  255 

a;][ainil:  the  danger  of  hired  evidence,  and  to  give  an  op- 
portunity of  trying  how  they  agree  together.  To  have 
required  more  would  h'-ive  made  a  proof  difficult  or  im- 
poffible  in  many  cafes. 

It  feems  to  be  a  maxim  in  law,  and  founded  on  reafon, 
that  in  the  cafe  of  what  are  called  occult  crimes,  fuch  as 
murder,  adultery,  forgery,  and  fome  others,  where  the 
nature  of  the  thing  fhows  that  there  mufl  a  penury  of 
evidence,  they  fometimes  content  themfelves  v/ith  fewer 
"v^itneffes,  if  there  are  corroborating  ciraumflances  to 
flrengthen  their  tellimony. 

It  feems  to  be  a  matter  not  eafdy  decided,  whether  it  be 
agreeable  to  reafon  and  juflice,  in  the  cafe  of  very  atroci- 
ous crimes,  that  on  account  of  the  atrocity ,  less  evidence 
fliould  be  fufficient  for  convi^lion,  or  that  more  fliould  be 
required.  On  the  one  hand,  the  more  atrocious  the  crime, 
the  greater  the  hurt  to  fociety,  and  the  more  need  of 
public  vengeance.  On  the  other  hand,  the  more  atroci- 
ous the  crime,  and  the  heavier  the  puniiliment,  it  feems 
agreeable  to  juilice  that  the  convidlion  fhould  be  upon  the 
more  unqueflioned  evidence.  Lawyers  are  feen  to  take 
their  common  places,  fometimes  the  one  way,  fometimes 
the  other.  It  is  often  thought  that  in  practice,  lefs  evi- 
dence is  fufficient  to  convict  a  man  of  murder,  forgery, 
rape,  Bnd  other  crimes  of  a  deep  dye.  But  I  am  per- 
fuaded  that  the  appearance  is  owing  to  the  greater  and 
more  general  eagernefs  to  difcover  the  perpetrators  of 
fuch  crimes.  Others  are  fuffered  to  efcape  more  eafily, 
not  that  more  evidence  is  necefiary,  but  that  it  is  more 
difficult  to  get  at  the  evidence. 

Evidence  may  be  diftinguifhed  into  two  kinds,  direc^ 
and  oircumstantial.  Direct  evidence  is  when  the  wit- 
neffes  fwear  to  their  fight  or  knowledge  of  the  accufed 
committing  the  crime.  Circumilantial  when  they  only 
fwear  to  certain  fa(!:1s  which  cannot  be  fuppofed  to  have 
exifted  unlefs  the  crime  had  been  committed.  As  a 
man  found  dead, — another  found  near  the  place — with  a 
weapon  bloody, — or  clothes  bloody,  &:c.  Some  have 
affirmed  that  circumftantial  evidence  is  ftronger  than 
dired,  but  it  muft  be  taken  with  very  great  caution  aaci 
judgment. 


2^6  Lectures  on 


(3.)  The  law  is  to  proportion  and  appoint  the  punifli- 
ment  due  to  every  crime  when  proven. 

Punifhment  in  all  regular  Hates,  is  taken  wholly  out 
of  the  hands  of  the  injured  perfons,  and  committed  to 
the  magiftrate,  though  in  many  or  mofl  cafes  the  injured 
party  is  fufFered  to  join  the  magiftrate  in  the  profecution, 
and  to  have  a  certain  claim,  by  way  of  reparation,  as  far 
as  that  is  pradicable. 

Therefore  the  punifliment  in  general  mufl  confifl  of 
two  parts,  (i)  reparation  to  the  fufferer,  (2)  the  vin- 
di6la  publica,  which  has  fometimes  two  ends  in  view, 
to  be  an  example  to  others,  and  to  reclaim  and  reform 
the  offender,  as  in  corporal  puniflmient  lefs  than  death. 
Sometimes  but  one,  the  good  of  others  in  the  example, 
as  in  capital  punifhments,  and  banifhment. 

The  kind  of  punifliment  and  the  degree,  is  left  wholly 
to  different  lawgivers,  and  the  fpirit  of  different  conftitu- 
tions.  Public  utility  is  the  rule.  Puniflim,ent  is  not  al- 
ways proportioned  to  the  atrocioufnefs  of  the  crime  in 
point  of  morals,  but  to  the  frequency  of  it,  and  the  dan- 
ger of  its  prevailing. 

Some  nations  require,  andfome  will  bear  greater  fe ve- 
rity in  punifliments  than  others. 

The  fame  or  fmiilar  condu£l  often  produces  oppofite 
effects.  Severe  laws  and  levere  punifliinents,  fometimes 
banifh  crimes,  but  very  often  the  contrary.  When  laws 
are  very  fanguinary,  it  often  makes  the  fubjedls  hate  the 
law  more  than  they  fear  it,  and  the  tranfition  is  very 
eafy  from  hating  the  law  to  hating  thofe  who  are  entruR;- 
ed  with  the  execution  of  it.  Such  a  ilate  of  things  threat- , 
ens  infurredlions  and  convulfions,  if  not  the  dilfolution 
of  a  government. 

Another  ufual  effei^  of  excefTivc  feverity  in  laws  is, 
that  they  are  not  put  in  execution.  The  public  is  not 
willing  to  lend  its  aid  to  the  difcovery  and  conviction  of 
offenders ;  fo  that  in  time  the  law  itlelf  becomes  a  mere 
brutum  fulmen  and  lofes  its  authority. 

1  may  make  one  particular  remark,  that  though  many 
things  are  copied  from  the  law  of  Mofes  into  the  lav/s  of 
the  modern  nations,  yet  fo  far  as  1  know  none  of  tliem 


Moral  Philosophy.  357> 

ha\^e  introduced  the  lex  talionis  in  the  cafe  of  injuries,  an> 
eye  for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth,  &c.  and  yet  per- 
haps there  are  many  inRances  in  which  it  would  be  very 
proper.  The  equity  of  the  punifnment  would  be  quite 
manifefi,  and  probably  it  would  be  as  effectual  a  reflraint 
from  tlie  commiflion  of  injury  as  any  that  could  be  chofcn. 
The  concluding  remark  Ihail  be,  that  it  is  but  feldom 
that  very  fevere  and  fanguinary  laws  are  of  fervice  to  the 
good  order  oi  aftate  ;  but  after  laws  have  been  fixed  with, 
as  much  equity  and  moderation  as  poliible,  the  execution 
of  them  fliould  be  flri6t  and  rigorous.  Let  the  laws  be 
just  and  the  magillrate  injiexible,  ■ 


LECTURE    XV. 

THE  fecond  objed  of  civil  laws  being  to  regulate  the 
making  of  contracts,  and  the  whole  intercourfe 
between  man  and  man  relating  to  the  acquifition,  poflef- 
fion  and  alienation  of  property,  we  muft  confider  carefully 
the  nature  of 

Contracts, 

A  contract  is  a  flipulation  between  two  parties  before 
at  liberty,  to  make  fome  alteration  of  property,  or  to  bind 
one  or  both  parties  to  the  performance  of  fome  fervice. 

Contrails  are  abfolutely  necellary  in  fecial  life.  Every 
tranfa6tion  almoll  may  be  confidered  as  a  contrail,  ei- 
ther more  or  lefs  explicit. 

The  principal  thing  which  conftitutes  a  contract  is, 
consent.  But  in  fome  kinds  of  contracts,  viz.  the  gratu- 
itous, the  confent  of  the  receiver  is  prefumed.  In  the 
tranfmiffion  of  eftates  by  donation  or  teflament  this  is  pre- 
fumed— and  thofe  who  are  incapable  of^  giving  their 
confent  through  infancy, m.ay  notwithftanding  acquire  pro- 
perty and  rights.  When  a  man  comes  into  a  fettled 
country  and  purchafes  property,  he  is  fuppofed,  befides 
every  other  part  of  the  bargain,  to  purchafe  it  under  fuch 


,355  Lectures  on 

conditions,  and  fubje<5l  himfelf  to  fuch  laws  as  are  in 
force  in  that  country. 

Contra6ls  are  faid  to  be  of  tliree  degrees  in  point  of 
fulnefs  and  precifion — (i.)  A  fimple  affirmation  of  a  de- 
fign  as  to  futurity — as  when  I  fay  to  any  one  that  I 
I  lliall  go  to  fuch  a  place  to-morrow  :  this  is  not  pro- 
perly binding,  and  it  is  fuppofed  that  many  things  may 
occur  to  make  me  alter  my  refolution — yet  a  frequent  al- 
teration of  profeffed  purpofes  gives  the  character  of  le- 
vity ;  therefore  a  prudent  man  will  be  cautious  of  declar- 
ing his  purpofes  till  he  is  well  determined.  (2.)  A  gra- 
tuitous promife  of  doing  fome  favor  to  me.  This  is  not 
made  binding  in  law,  nor  does  it  ufually  convey  a  perfedl 
right,  becaufe  it  fuppofes  that  the  perfon  who  was  the  ob- 
jedl  of  good  will,  may,  by  altering  his  behavior,  forfeit 
his  title  to  it,  or  that  the  perfon  promifmg  may  find  it 
much  more  inconvenient,  collly  or  hurtful  to  himfelf,  than 
he  fuppofed  ;  or,  laflly,  that  what  was  intended  as  afervice 
if  performed  appears  plainly  to  be  an  injury.  In  the  lafl 
cafe  every  one  mufl  fee,  that  it  cannot  be  binding  ;  but 
in  the  two  former,  I  apprehend  that  in  all  ordinary  cafes 
a  diftant  promife  is  binding  in  confcience,  though  it  may 
not  be  neceifary  to  make  it  binding  in  law.  I  fay  all  or- 
dinary cafes,  becaufe  it  is  eafy  to  figure  a  cafe  in  which  I 
may  make  a  promife  to  another,  and  fuch  circumflances 
may  afterwards  occur  as  I  am  quite  confident,  if  the  per- 
fon knew,  he  would  not  hold  me  to  my  promife. 

3.  The  third  degree  is  a  complete  contra6l,  with  confent 
on  both  fides,  and  obligation  upon  one  or  both. 

The  eflentials  of  a  contract  which  render  it  valid,  and 
any  of  which  being  wanting,  it  is  void,  are  as  follow  : 

^Thatit  be,  (i.)  Free.  (2.)  Mutual.  (3.)  Poifible. 
(4.)  Careful.  (5.)  Widi  a  capable  perfon.  (6.)  For- 
mal. 

Firfi.  It  mufl  be  free.  Contrails  made  by  unjufl  force 
are  void  always  in  law,  and  fometimes  in  confcience.  It 
mull  however  be  unjufl  force,  becaufe  in  treaties  of  peace 
between  nauons,  as  we  have  feen  before,  force  does  not 
void  the  contrail ;  and  even  in  private  life  fometimes 
men  are  forced  to  enter  into  contrads  by  the  order  of  a 


Moral  Philosophy.  359 

magillrate,  fometimes  by  the  threatening  of  legal  profecu- 
tion,  which  does  not  make  them  void. 

2.  They  muil  be  mutual,  that  is,  the  confent  of  the 
one  as  well  as  that  of  the  other  muft  be  had.  Contra6ts  in 
this  view  become  void  either  by  fraud  on  one  fide,  or  by 
eflential  error.  If  any  man  contrives  a  contract  fo  as  to 
bind  the  other  party,  and  keep  himfelf  free,  this  fraud 
certainly  nullifies  the  agreement — or  if  there  is  an  effen- 
tial  error  in  the  perfon  or  the  thing,  as  if  a  perfon  Ihould 
oblige  himfelf  to  one  man  fuppofmg  him  to  be  another. 

3.  Contrails  fhould  be  of  things  evidently  poflible,  and 
probably  in  our  power.  Contracts  by  which  men  oblige 
themfelves  to  do  things  impofTible,  are  no  doubt  void  from 
the  beginning ;  but  if  the  impoffibility  was  known  to  the 
contrading  party,  it  muil  have  been  either  abfurd  or 
fraudulent.  When  things  engaged  for  become  impoffible 
by  the  operation  of  Providence  without  a  man's  own  fault, 
the  contrail  is  void,  and  he  is  guiltlefs — as  if  a  man 
fhould  covenant  to  deliver  at  a  certain  place  and  time  a 
number  of  cattle,  and  when  he  is  almoll  at  the  place  of 
deftination  they  Ihould  be  killed  by  diunder,  or  any  other 
accident,  out  of  his  power. 

4.  Contrads  mud  be  of  things  lawful.     All  engage- 
ments to  do  things  unlawful,  are  from  the  beginning 
void ;  but  by  unlawful  muil  be  underftood  the  violation 
of  perfect  rights.     If  a  man  oblige  himfelf  for  a  reward 
to  commit  murder,  or  any  kind  of  fraud,  the  engagement 
is  void ;  but  it  was  criminal  in  the  tranfadline,  and  the 
reward  ought  to  be  returned,  or  given  to  public  uies. 
There   are   many   contracts,  however,    which   are  very 
blameabk  in   making,   that    mult,    notwithilanding,  be 
kept,  and  mufl:  not  be  made  void  in  law — as  raih  and 
fooliih  bargains,  where  there  was  no  fraud  on  the   other 
iide.     If  fuch  were  to  be  voided,  great  confufion  would 
be  introduced.     The  cafes   of  this  kind  are  numerous, 
and  may  be  greatly  diverfified. 

5.  Gontrads  muil  be  made  with  a  capable  perfon,  that 
is  to  fay,  of  age,  underilanding,  at  liberty,  &c.  It  is  part  o£ 
the  civil  law,  or  rather  municipal  law,  of  every  country, 
.to  fix  the  time  of  life  when  perfons  are  fuppofed  capable. 


360  Lectures  on 

of  tranfacling  their  own  affairs.  Some  time  mufl:  be 
fixed,  otherwife  it  would  occafion  numberlefs  difputes, 
difficult  to  be  decided.  A  man  at  the  age  of  fourteen, 
^nd  a  woman  at  twelve,  may  ehoofe  guardians,  who  can 
alienate  their  property,  and  at  the  age  of  twenty. one 
they  have  their  eftates  wholly  in  their  own  hand. 

6.  Contrails  mufl  be  formal. 

The  laws  of  every  country  limit  a  great  many  circum- 
ffances  of  the  nature,  obligation,  extent  and  duration  of 
contra6ls. 

Having  pointed  out  fomething  of  the  effential  charac- 
ters of  all  lawful  contracts ;  I  obferve  they  may  be  de- 
vided  two  different  ways,  (1)  coatradls  are  either  abfolute 
or  conditional.  The  abfolute  are  fuch  as  are  fufpended 
upon  no  condition,  but  fuch  as  are  effential  to  every  con- 
tradl,  which  have  been  mentioned  above.  Such  as  when 
a  perfon  makes  a  fettlement  upon  auother,  without  re- 
ferve,  then  whether  he  behave  well  or  ill,  whether  it  be 
convenient  or  inconvenient,  it  mufl  be  fulfilled.  Con- 
ditional contrails  are  thofe  that  are  fufpended  on  any 
uncertain  future  contingency,  or  fome  performance  by 
the  oppofite  party.  Of  this  lafl  fort  are  almofl  all  tranf- 
a6lions  in  the  way  of  commerce, — which  leads  to  the  (2) 
way  of  dividing  contrads  into  beneficent  and  onerous. 
The  firfl  is  when  one  freely  brings  himfelf  under  an  ob- 
ligation to  beflow  any  favor  or  do  any  fervice,  as  dona- 
tions or  legacies,  and  undertaking  the  ofBce  of  guardian, 
of  another  perfon's  efiate. 

The  onerous  contract  is  when  an  equal  viilue  is  fup-; 
pofed  to  be  given  on  both  fides,  as  is  the  cafe  for  the  mofl 
]}art  in  the  alienation  of  property — and  the  tranf:i6lions 
between  man  and  man,  and  between  Ibciety   and  focir 

^ty. 

To  this  place  belongs  the  queflion  about  the  lawful- 
nefs  of  lending  money  upon  interelh  If  we  confider  mo- 
ney as  an  inftrumentof  commerce  and  giving  an  oppor- 
tunity of  making  profit,  there  feems  plainly  to  be 
nothing  unjufl,  that  the  lender  fhould  iharc  in  the  ad- 
vantage ariling  from  his  own  property. 


Moral  Philosophy.  361 

Thechlef  thing  neceffary,  is  that  the  Hate  or  govern- 
ing part  of  the  fociety,  lliould  fettle  the  rate  of  intereft 
and  not  fuffer  it  to  depend  upon  the  necefTity  of  the  poor 
or  the  covetoufnefs  of  the  rich.  If  it  is  not  fettled  by  law, 
nfury  will  be  the  certain  confequence. 

The  law  of  Mofes  does  not  feem  to  have  admitted  the 
takinor  of  intereft  at  all  from  an  Ifraelite.  It  is  thou^fht 
however,  that  the  main  reafon  of  this  muft  have  been 
drawn  from  fomething  in  their  conflitution  as  a  Hate, 
that  rendered  it  improper,  for  if  it  had  been  in  itfelf  im- 
moral they  would  not  have  been  permitted  to  take  it  of 
ftrangers. 

Of  the  Marks  or  Signs  of  Contracts* 

All  known  and  intelligent  marks  of  confent,  are  the  figns 
and  means  of  compleating  contrails.  The  chief  of  thefe 
however  are  words  and  writing,  as  being  found  the  moll 
cafy  and  ufeful.  Words  are  of  all  others  the  moll  na- 
tural and  proper  for  giving  immediate  confent,  and  wri- 
ting to  perpetuate  the  mem.ory  of  the  tranfadion.  There 
are  however  many  other  figns  that  may  be  made  ufe  of, 
and  wherever  there  is  a  real  purpofe  of  fignifying  our 
intention  by  which  others  are  brought  to  depend  upon  it, 
the  engagement  is  real,  and  we  are  bound  in  confcience, 
though  the  law  in  every  country  muft  of  neceflity  be 
more  limited.  The  whole  rells  ultimately  on  the  obliga- 
tion to  fmcerity  in  the  focial  life. 

This  obligation  arifes  from  the  teflimony  of  confcience, 
und  from  the  manifeft  utility  and  even  neceffity  of  fmceri- 
ty to  focial  intercourfe. 

Signs  are  divided  into  natural^  instituted  and  custo- 
mary.  Natural  figns  are  thofe  which  have  either  a  real 
likenefs  to  the  thing  fignified,  or  fuch  a  known  and  uni- 
verfal  relation  to  it,  that  all  men  mud  naturally  be  led 
from  the  one  to  the  other— As  a  pidlure  is  a  natural  fign, 
becaufe  a  reprefentation  of  the  thing  painted.  An  in- 
flamed fullen  countenance  and  fiery  eyes,  are  natural  figns 
of  anger,  becaufe  they  are  the  univerfal  effeds  of  that 
Paffion.  '     ' 

Vol.  III.  Z  z 


362  Lectures  on 

InRituted  figris,  are  thofe  tbnt  have  no  other  connexion 
with  the  thing  fignilied,  than  what  has  been  made  by 
agreement,  as  if  two  perfons  fliali  agree  between  them- 
felves,  that  if  the  one  wants  to  fio;nify  to  the  other  at 
a  diflance,  that  he  willies  him  to  come  to  his'  afliilance, 
he  will  kindle  afire  upon  a  certain  hill,  or  hang  out  a 
flag  upon  a  certain  pinnacle  of  his  houfe,  or  fome  part  of 
his  fhip.  Words  and  writing  are  properly  inftitnted 
figns,  for  they  have  no  relation  to  the  thing  fignified 
but  what  original  agreement  and  long  cuilom  has  given 
them. 

Cuflomary  fjgns  are  no  other  than  inRituted  figns 
which  have  long  prevailed,  and  whofe  inftitution  has  ei- 
ther been  accidental  or  has  been  forgotten.  It  is  alfo  ufual 
to  apply  the  word  cuilojnary  to  fuch  figns  as  depend  upon 
the  mode  and  falhion  of  particular  countries.  There  are 
fome  figns  and  poftures,  which  though  they  may  feeni 
perfedlly  arbitrary  have  obtained  very  generally,  perhaps 
univerfally,  as  bending  down  the  body,  or  prollration, 
as  a  fign  of  refpeCl  and  reverence  ;  kneeling  and  lifting  up 
the  hands  as  a  fign  of  fubmiifion  and  fupplication. — 
Perhaps  both  thefe  are  natural,  as  they  put  the  perfon  into 
the  fituation  leafi:  capable  of  refiftance. 

Sometimes  diere  is  a  mixture  of  natural  and  inRituted 
figns,  as  if  a  man  fends  a  pair  of  wings,  or  the  figure  of 
them,  to  a  friend,  to  intimate  his  danger  and  the  neceffi- 
ty  of  flying. 

In  the  ufe  of  figns,  the  great  rule  of  fincerity  is,  that 
wherever  v/e  are  bound,  and  wherever  we  profefs  to 
communicate  our  intention,  we  ought  to  ufe  the  figns  in 
the  leall  ambiguous  manner  poflible.  When  we  have  no 
intention,  and  are  under  no  obligation  to  communicate 
any  thing  to  others,  it  is  of  fmall  moment  what  appearances 
are ;  it  is  their  bufinefs  not  to  make  any  unnecefiary  or 
uncertain  inferences.  A  light  in  a  houfe,  in  the  middle 
of  the  night,  will  perhaps  fuggeit  mod  probably,  to  a  tra- 
veller accidently  paffing,  that  there  is  fomebody  fick  in 
that  iioufe  ;  yet  perhaps  it  is  extraordinary  lludy  or  bufi- 
nefs that  keeps  fome  perfon  awake. 

Nay  when  there  is   no  obligation  to  give,  nor  any  rea- 
fon  for  the  party  to  expeft  true  information,  it  is  held 


Moral  Philosophy.  363 

generally  no  crime  at  all,  to  iife  fuch  figns  as  we  have 
reafon  to  fuppofe  will  be  miflaken  ;  as  when  one  who 
does  not  deflre  to  be  dillurbed,  keeps  his  chamber  cloie 
iliut,  that  people  may  conclude  he  is  not  there.  When 
a  general  of  an  army  puts  a  fire  in  the  camp,  to  con- 
ceal his  march  or  retreat.  And  probably  none  would 
think  it  faulty  when  there  was  an  apprehenfion  of  thieves, 
to  keep  a  hght  burning  in  a  chamber  to  lead  them  to  fup- 
pofe the  whole  family  is  not  at  reft. 

There  are  fome  who  place  in  the  fame  rank,  evafive 
phrafes,  when  there  is  an  apparent  intention  to  fpeak 
our  mind,  but  no  right  in  the  other  to  obtain  it.  Sucli 
expreffions  may  be  ftridlly  true,  and  yet  there  is  all  pro- 
bability that  the  hearer  will  mifunderftand  them.  As  if 
one  fliould  aflc  if  a  perfon  was  in  any  houfe,  and  fliould 
receive  for  ani\ver,  he  went  away  yefterday  morning  j 
when  perhaps  he  returned  the  fame  evening.  I  look  upon 
thefe  evafions  however,  as  very  doubtful,  and  indeed, 
rather  not  to  be  chofen,  becaufe  they  feem  to  contain  a 
profelTion  of   telling  our  real  mind. 

Some  mention  ironical  fpeech  as  an  exception  to 
the  obligation  to  iincerity.  But  it  is  properly  no  objecti- 
on at  all,  becaufe  there  is  no  deception.  Truth  lies  not 
in  the  words  themfelves,  but  in  the  ufe  of  them  as  figns. 
Therefore  if  a  man  fpeaks  his  words  in  fuch  a  tone  and 
manner  as  the  hearer  immediately  conceives  they  are  to 
be  taken  in  an  oppofite  fenfe,  and  does  really  take  them 
in  the  fenfe  the  fpeaker  means  them,  there  is  no  falfehood 
at  all. 

Mr.  Hutchinfon  and  fome  others  allow  a  voluntary 
intended  departure  from  trudi,  on  occafion  of  fome  great 
neceffity  for  a  good  end.  This  I  apprehend  is 
wrong,  for  we  cannot  but  conlider  deception  as  it  itfelf 
bafe  and  unworthy,  and  therefore  a  good  end  cannot 
juftify  it.  Befides  to  fuppofe  it  were  in  men*s  power  on 
a  fufiicient  occafion  to  violate  truth,  would  greatly  de- 
llroy  its  force  in  general,  and  its  ufe  in  the  focial  life. 

There  are  two  forts  of  falfehood,  which  becaufe  no 
doubt  they  are  iefs  aggravated  than  malicious  interefted 
lies,  many  admit  of  but,  I  think  without  fufficient  reafon^ 


364  Lectures  on 

(i)  Jocular  lies,  when  there  is  a  real  deception  intend- 
ed, but  not  in  anything  material,  nor  intended  to  conti- 
nue long.  However  harmlefs  thefe  may  feem,  T  reckon 
they  are  to  be  blamed,  becaufe  it  is  ufmg  too  much  free- 
dom with  fo  facred  a  thing  as  truth.  And  very  often  fuch 
perfons,  as  a  righteous  puniftiment  in  Providence,  are 
left  to  proceed  further,  and  either  to  carry  their  folly  to 
fuch  excefs,  as  to  become  contemptible,  or  to  go  beyond 
folly  into  malice. 

(2)  Officious  lies,  telling  falfehoods  to  children,  or  fick 
perfons  for  their  good.  Thefe  very  feldom  anfwer  the 
end  that  is  propofed.  They  lelTen  the  reverence  for 
truth  ;  and  particularly  with  regard  to  children,  are  ex- 
ceedingly pernicious,  for  as  they  mull  foon  be  difcover- 
ed,  they  loofe  their  force,  and  teach  them  to  deceive. 
Truth  and  authority  are  methods  infinitely  preferable  in 
dealing  with  children,  as  well  as  with  perfons  of  riper 
years. 


LECTURE    XVI. 
Of  Oaths   and  Vows. 

AMONG  the  figns  and  appendages  of  contracts,  are 
oaths  and  vows. 

An  oath  is  an  appeal  to  God,  the  fearcher  of  hearts, 
for  the  truth  of  what  we  fay,  and  alvva3's  exprelles  or 
fuppofes  an  imprecation  of  his  judgment  upon  us,  if  we 
prevaricate. 

An  oath  therefore  implies  a  belief  in  God,  and  his 
Providence,  and  indeed  is  an  a6l  of  worihip,  and  fo 
accounted  in  Scripture,  as  in  that  expreffion,  fhoii  shah 
fear  the  Lord  thy  God^  andshalt  sivcar  by  his  name.  Its 
nfe  in  human  affairs  is  very  great,  when  managed  with 
judgment.  It  may  be  applied  and  indeed  has  been  com- 
monly ufed  (i)  in  the  contrails  of  independent  flates, 
who  have  no  common  earthly  fuperior,  In  ancient  times 
it  was  ufual  ahvays  to  clofe  national  treaties  by  mutual 


Moral  Philosophy.  365 

oaths.  This  form  is  not  fo  common  in  modern  times,  yet 
the  fubftance  remains  ;  for  an  appeal  is  always  fuppofed  to 
be  made  to  God,  againft  the  breach  o^  public  faith. 

(2.)  It  has  been  adopted  by  all  nations  in  their  admi- 
niftration  of  juliice,  in  order  to  difcover  truth.  The  moll 
common  and  univerfal  application  of  it  has  been  to  add 
greater  folemnity  to  the  tellimony  of  witneiFes.  It  is  alfo 
fometimes  made  ufe  of  with  the  parties  themfelves,  for  con- 
vi(Slion  or  purgation.  The  laws  of  every  country  point 
out  the  cafes  in  which  oaths  are  required  or  admitted  in 
public  judgment.  It  is  however,  lawful  and  in  common 
practice,  for  private  per-fons,  voluntarily,  on  folemn  occa- 
iions,  to  confirm  what  they  fay,  by  oath.  Perfons  enter- 
ing on  public  offices,  are  alfo  often  obliged  to  make  oath, 
that  they  will  faithfully  execute  their  truft. 

Oaths  are  commonly  divided  into  tv/o  kinds,  asserta- 
tory  and  promissory — Tiiofe  called  purgatory  fall  under 
the  firil:  of  thefe  divlfions.  There  is  perhaps  little  necef- 
fity  for  a  divifion  of  oaths,  for  they  do  not  properly  ftand 
by  themfelves  ;  they  are  confirmations  and  appendages  of 
contrads,  and  intended  as  an  additional  fecurity  for  fm- 
cerity  in  the  commerce  between  man  and  man. 

Therefore  oaths  are  fubjedl  to  all  the  fame  regulations 
as  contrails ;  or  rather  oaths  are  only  lawful,  when  they 
are  in  aid  or  confirmation  of  a  lawful  contrrv(?t.  What 
therefore  voids  the  one,  will  void  the  other,  and  nothing 
elfe.  A  contradt  otherwife  unlawful,  cannot  be  made 
binding  by  an  oath  :  but  there  muft  be  a  very  great  cau- 
tion ufed  not  to  make  any  unlawful  contract,  much  Icfs 
to  confirm  it  by  an  oath. 

It  is  eafy  to  fee  the  extreme  abfurdity  of  our  being 
obliged  to  fulfil  a  criminal  engagement  by  oath,  for  it 
would  imply,  that  out  of  reverence  to  God  we  ought  to 
break  his  commands  ;  but  nothing  can  be  more  abomi- 
nable, than  the  principle  of  thofe  who  think  they  may 
fafely  take  an  unlawful  oath,  becaufe  it  is  not  bindmg  : 
this  is  aggravating  grofs  injuflice  by  deliberate  profanity. 

I  have  faid  that  oaths  are  appendages  to  all  lawful  con- 
trads ;  but  in  aflertory  oaths  which  are  only  confirma- 
tions of  our  general  obligation  to  fincerity,  it  is  neceilary 


366  Lectures  on 

not  only  that  what  we  fay  be  true,  but  that  the  occafion 
be  of  fufHcient  moment  to  require  or  juftify  a  folemn 
appeal  to  God.  Swearhig  on  common  occafions  is  un- 
neccifary,  rafli,  profane  and  deftrudlive  of  the  folemnity 
of  an  oath  and  its  real  ufe. 

From  the  general  rule  laid  down,  that  oaths  are  lawful 
when  applied  to  lawful  contracts,  it  will  follow  that  they 
become  unlawful  only  when  the  fulfilling  of  them  would 
be  violating  a  perfedl  right ;  bur  perhaps  an  additional  ob- 
fervation  is  neceffary  here.  Contracts  mufh  be  fulfilled, 
when  they  violate  an  imperfedl  right ;  whereas  fome  oaths 
may  be  found  criminal  and  void,  though  they  are  only 
contrary  to  imperfect  rights  :  as  for  example,  fome  per- 
fons  bind  themfelves  rallily  by  oath,  that  they  will  never 
fpeak  to  or  forgive  their  children  who  have  offended  them. 
This  is  fo  evidently  criminal,  that  nobody  will  plead  for 
its  being  obligatory,  and  yet  it  is  but  the  violation  of  an 
imperfect  right.  The  fame  perfons  however,  might  in 
many  ways  alienate  their  property  to  the  prejudice  of  their 
children,  by  contrails  which  the  law  would  oblige  them 
to  fulfil. 

In  vows,  there  is  no  party  but  God  and  the  perfon 
himfelf  who  makes  the  vow  :  for  this  reafon,  Mr.  Hutch- 
infon  relaxes  their  obligation  very  much — Suppofing 
any  perfon  had  folemnly  vowed  to  give  a  certain  part  of 
his  fubltance  to  public  or  pious  ufes,  he  fays  if  he  finds  it 
a  great  inconvenience  to  himfelf  or  family,  he  is  not 
bound  ;  this  I  apprehend  is  too  lax.  Men  ought  to  be 
cautious  in  making  fuch  engagements ;  but  I  apprehend 
that  when  made,  if  not  direcl:Iy  criminal,  they  ought  to 
be  kept. 

Of  the  use  of  Symhoh  in  Contracts. 

Be  fides  promifes  and  oaths,  there  is  fometimes  in  con- 
trails a  ufe  of  other  vifible  figns  called  fymbols  ;  the  mofl 
common  among  us  are  figning  and  i'ealing  a  written  deed. 
There  is  alfo,  in  fome  places,  the  delivery  of  earth  and 
Hone  in  making  overland — and  fundry  others.  In  an- 
cient times  it  was  ufual  to  have  folemn  fymbols  in  all  trea« 


Moral  Philosophy,  367 

ties — mutual  gifts — facrifices — feails — fettingup pillars — 
The  intention  of  all  fuch  things,  whenever  and  wherever 
they  have  been  pradlifed  is  the  fame.  It  is  to  afcertain 
and  keep  up  the  memory  of  ihe  tranfadlion.  They  were 
more  frequent  and  folemn  in  ancient  times  than  now,  be- 
caufe  before  the  invention  of  writing  they  were  more  ne- 
cefTary. 

Of  the  Value  of  Property, 

Before  we  fmifli  die  fubje6l  of  contracts,  it  may  be 
proper  to  fay  a  little  of  the  nature  and  value  of  property, 
which  is  the  fubjefb  of  them.  Nothing  has  an}^  real  va- 
lue unlefs  it  be  of  fome  ufe  in  human  life,  or  perhaps 
we  may  fay,  unlefs  it  is  fuppofed  to  be  of  ufe,  and  fo 
becomes  the  objeQ  of  human  defire — becaufe  at  particu- 
lar times,  and  in  particular  places,  things  of  very  little 
real  importance  acquire  a  value,  which  is  commonly  tem- 
porary and  changeable.  Shells  and  baubles  are  of  great 
value  in  fome  places  ;  perhaps  there  are  fome  more  bau- 
bles highly  valued  in  every  place. 

But  though  it  is  their  ufe  in  life  that  gives  things  their 
value  in  general,  it  does  not  follow  that  thofe  things  that 
are  of  mofl;  ufe  and  necelTity,  are  therefore  of  greatell  va- 
lue as  property,  or  in  commerce.  Air  and  water,  ]:)er- 
haps  we  may  add  fire,  are  of  the  greateft  ufe  and  ne- 
ceflity  ;  but  they  are  alfo  in  greateft  jilenty,  and  therefore 
are  of  little  value  as  a  poflefiion  or  pro]>ertv.  Value  is 
in  proportion  to  the  plenty  of  any  commodity,  and  tlie 
demand  for  it.  The  one  taken  in  the  inverfe,  and  the 
other  in  the  dire6l  proportion. 

Hence  it  follows  that  money  is  of  no  real  value.  It  is 
not  wealth  properly,  but  the  fign  of  it,  and  in  a  f.xed 
flate  of  fociety  the  certain  m.eans  of  procuring  it.  In 
early  times  traffic  was  carried  on  b}^  exchange  oi"  goods — 
but  being  large,  not  eafily  divided  or  tranfported,  they  be- 
came very  troublefome.  Therefore  it  foon  became  ne- 
ceflary  to  fix  upon  fome  fign  of  wealth,  to  he  a  ftandard 
by  which  to  rate  diilerent  commodities. 


368  Lectures  on 

Any  thing  that  is  fit  to  anfwer  the  purpafe  of  a  com- 
mon fign  of  wealth,  muft  have  the  following  properties  : 
It  muil  be  (i)  valuable,  that  is,  have  anintrinfic  commer- 
cial value, and  rare,otherwife  it  could  have  no  comparative 
value  at  all.  (2.)  Durable,  other  wife  it  could  not  pafs 
from  hand  to  hand.  (3.)  Divifible,  fo  that  it  might  be 
in  larger  or  fmaller  quantities  as  are  required.  (4.)  Port- 
able, it  mufl:  not  be  of  great  fize,  otherwife  it  would  be 
extremely  inconvenient. 

Gold  and  filver  were  foon  found  to  have  all  thefe  pro- 
perties, and  therefore  are  fixed  upon  as  the  fign  of  wealth. 
But  befidcs  being  the  fign  of  the  value  of  other  commo- 
dities, they  themfelves  are  alfo  matters  of  commerce,  and 
therefore  increafe  or  decreafe  in  their  value  by  their  plenty 
or  fcarcenefs. 

It  may  feem  to  belong  to  the  ruling  part  of  any  fociety 
to  fix  the  value  of  gold  and  filver  as  figns  of  the  value 
of  commodities — and  no  doubt  they  do  fix  it  nominally 
in  their  domiinions.  But  in  this  they  are  obliged  to  be 
firi6lly  attentive  to  the  value  of  thefe  metals  as  a  com- 
modity from  their  plenty  or  fcarcenefs,  otherwife  their 
regulations  Vvill  be  of  little  force — other  nations  will  pay 
no  regard  to  the  nominal  value  of  any  particular  country, 
and  even  in  internal  commerce  the  fubje(^  would  fix  a 
value  upon  the  figns  according  to  their  plenty. 

It  is  as  prejudicial  to  commerce  to  make  the  nominal 
value  of  the  coin  of  any  country  too  fmall  as  too  great. 

We  fliali  clofe  this  part  of  the  fubjed  by  fpeaking  a 
little  of  the 

Rights  of  Necessity^  and  common  Rights, 

Thefe  are  certain  powers  afilimed  both  by  private  per- 
fons  and  communities,  which  are  fuppofed  to  be  autho- 
rifed  by  the  necefiity  of  the  cafe,  and  fupported  by  the 
great  law  of  reafon. 

There  will  remain  a  great  number  of  cafes  in  which 
thofe  rights  of  necefiTity  are  to  be  ufed  even  in  the  befl  regu- 
lated civil  fociety,  and  often  the  mofl:  mature  deliberation 


Moral  Philosophy.  369 

and  forefight  of  probable  events,  and  provifion  for  them 
by  fpecific  laws. 

Were  a  man  perifliing  with  hunger,  and  denied  food 
by  a  perfon  who  could  eafdy  afford  it  him,  here  the  rights  of 
neceflity  would  juilify  him  in  taking  it  by  violence. 
Were  a  city  on  fire,  and  the  blowing  up  of  an  houfe 
w^ould  fave  the  far  greater  part,  though  the  owner  was 
unwilling,  men  would  think  themielves  juflified  in  do- 
ing it  whether  he  w^ould  or  not.  Much  more  would  men 
in  cafes  of  urgent  neceflity  make  free  with  the  property 
of  others  without  allying  their  confent,  but  prefuming  upon 
it. 

In  our  own  government,  where,  by  the  love  of  liberty 
general  among  the  people,  and  the  nature  of  the  conflitu- 
tions  as  many  particulars  have  been  deter^nined  by  fpe- 
cial  laws  as  in  any  government  in  the  v/orld — yet  in- 
ftances  of  the  rights  of  necelTity  occur  every  day.  If  I 
fee  one  man  rob  another  upon  the  ^highway,  or  am  in- 
formed of  it,  if  I  have  courage  and  ability  I  purfue  the 
robber,  and  apprehend  him  without  any  warrant,  and 
carry  him  before  a  magiflrate  to  get  a  warrant  for  what  1 
have  already  done.  Nothing  is  more  common  in  Bri- 
tain than  to  force  people  to  fell  their  inheritance  or  a  part 
of  it,  to  make  a  road  or  flreet  flraight  or  commodious. 
In  this  inftance  it  is  not  fo  much  necefhty  as  great  utility. 

The  queflion  of  the  greatefl  moment  here  is,  whether 
the  eflablifhing  thefe  rights  of  necefTity  does  not  derogate 
from  the  perfeftion  and  immutability  of  the  moral  laws. 
If  it  be  true,  that  we  may  break  in  upon  the  laws  of  ju(- 
tice  for  the  fake  of  utility,  is  not  this  admitting  the  ex- 
ploded maxim,  that  we  may  do  evil  that  good  may  come. 
I  anfwer,  that  thefe  rights  of  necefTity  have  in  general  pro- 
perty as  their  object,  or  at  moil  the  life  of  particular  per- 
fons — and  it  feems  to  be  infeparable  from  the  eftablifhment 
of  property  in  the  focial  ftate,  that  our  property  is  to  be 
held  only  in  fuch  manner,  and  to  fuch  a  degree,  as  to  be 
both  confillent  with,  and  fubfervient  to,  the  good  of  others. 
And  therefore  thefe  extraordinary  cafes  are  agreeable  to 
the  tacit  or  implied  conditions  of  tlie  focial  contrad. 
Vol.  III.  3  A 


370  Lectures  on 

In  rights  of  necefflty  we  are  to  confider  not  only  the  pre- 
fent  good  or  evil,  but  for  all  time  to  come,  and  particularly 
the  fafety  or  danger  of  the  example.  Where  the  repeti- 
tion of  the  thing  in  fimilar  circumftances  would  have  a 
fatal  efre(!^,  it  ought  not  to  be  done.  '  If  a  city  were  un- 
der all  the  miferies  of  famine^  and  a  fliip  or  two  fhould 
arrive  with  grain,  the  owner  of  which  would  not  fell  it 
but  at  a  mod  exorbitant  price,  perhaps  equity  might  admit 
that  they  fliould  be  compelled  ;  but  if  any  fuch  thing  were 
done  it  would  prevent  others  from  going  near  that  place 
again. 

It  would  be  of  no  confequence  to  determine  thefe  rights 
of  neceflity  by  law.  If  the  law  defcribed  circumitan- 
tially  what  might  be  done,  it  would  be  no  longer  a  right 
of  neceflity,  but  a  legal  right.  To  forbid  them  by  law 
would  be  either  ineffedlual  or  it  would  abolifli  them  alto- 
gether, and  deprive  the  fociety  of  the  benefit  of  them 
when  the  cafes  fliould  occur.  Things  done  by  the  rights 
of  neceflity  are  by  fuppofition  illegal,  and  if  the  neceflity 
does  not  excufe,  the  perfon  who  pretends  them  may  be 
puniflied.  If  I  am  aiding  in  pulling  down  a  man's  houfe 
on  pretence  of  fl:opping  a  fire,  if  he  afterwards  makes  it 
appear  that  there  was  not  the  leafl:  occafion  for  it,  or  that  I, 
being  his  enemy,  took  the  opportunity  of  this  pretence 
to  injure  him,  he  will  obtain  reparation. 

As  property,  or  at  mofl  life  is  concerned  in  the  righ:s 
of  neceflity — llill  the  moral  laws  continue  in  force.  What- 
ever exprefles  an  evil  difpofition  of  mind  does  not  fall  un- 
der the  rule,  becaufe  it  can  never  be  neceflary  to  the  do- 
ing of  any  good.  The  pretence  of  its  being  neceflary  in 
fome  cafes  is  generally  chimerical,  and  even  were  it  real, 
the  necelfity  could  not  juftify  the  crime — as  fuppofe  a 
robber  very  profane  fliould  threaten  a  man  with  death 
unlefs  he  would  blafpheme  God  or  curfe  his  parents,  &c. 

There  are  certain  things  called  common  rights,  which 
the  public  is  fuppofed  to  have  over  every  member  :  the 
chief  of  them  are  (i)  diUgence.  As  a  man  muft  eat 
the  community  have  a  right  to  compel  him  to  be  ufeful — 
and  have  a  right  to  make  laws  againfl  fuicide.  (2.)  They 
have  a  right  to  the  difcoveiy  of  ufeful  inventions,  pro- 


Moral  Philosophy,  371 

yided  an  adequate  price  be  paid  to  the  difcoverer. 
(3.)  They  have  a  right  to  infill:  upon  fuch  things  as  be- 
long to  the  dignity  of  human  nature.  Thus  all  nations 
pay  refpe^l  to  dead  bodies,  though  there  is  no  other  reafoa 
for  it  but  that  we  cannot  help  aflbciating  with  the  body, 
even  dead,  the  ideas  which  arife  from  it,  and  belonged  to 
the  whole  perfon  when  alive. 

3.  The  third  and  lafl  objed  of  civil  laws  is,  limitin^^ 
citizens  in  the  exercife  of  dieir  rights,  ^o  as  they  may 
not  be  injurious  to  one  another,  but  the  public  good  may 
be  promoted. 

This  includes  the  giving  directions  in  what  way  arts  and 
commerce  may  be  carried  on,  and  in  fome  dates  extends 
as  far  as  the  pofleffions  of  private  perfons. 

It  includes  the  whole  of  what  is  called  the  police  of  a 
community — the  manner  of  travelling,  building,  market- 
ting,  time  and  manner  of  holding  all  forts  of  affemblies — 
In  arts  and  commerce  particularly  the  police  fliows  its 
power. 

It  will  only  be  necelTary  here  to  make  a  few  remarks 
on  the  nature  and  fpirit  of  thofe  laws. 

1.  Thofe  things  in  themfelves  are  arbitrary  and 
mutable,  for  there  is  no  morality  in  them  but  what  arifes 
from  common  utility.  We  may  fometimes  do  things  in 
a  way  better  than  that  appointed  by  la\v,  and  yet  it  is  not 
allowed. 

2.  Men  in  general  have  but  a  very  light  fenfe  of  tbe 
malignity  of  tranfgreffing  thefe  laws,  fuch  as  running  of 
goods,  breaking  over  a  fence,  &cc. 

3.  In  the  belt  conllitutions  fome  fandlions  are  appointed 
for  the  breach  of  thefe  laws.  Wherever  a  flate  is 
founded  upon  the  principles  of  liberty,  fuch  laws  are  made 
with  feverity  and  executed  with  flridnefs. 

Finally,  a  man  of  real  probity  and  virtue  adopts  thefe 
laws  as  a  part  of  his  duty  to  God  and  the  fociety,  and  ist 
fubjea:  not  only  for  wrath,  but  alio  for  confcicnce  falv^, 


37?  Lectures  on 


RECAPITULATION. 

Having  gone  through  the  three  j?;eneral  divifions  of  this 
fubje(5\,  Ethics,  Polities,  and  Jurifprudence,  I  fhall  con- 
chide  with  a  few  remarks  upon  the  whole,  and  mention 
to  you  the  chief  writers  who  have  diftinguiihed  themfelves 
in  this  branch  of  fcience. 

1.  You  may  plainly  perceive  both  how  extenfive  and 
how  im.portant  moral  philoibphy  is.  As  to  extent,  each 
of  the  divifions  v/e  have  gone  through  might  have  been 
treated  at  far  greater  length.  Nor  would  it  be  unprofita- 
ble to  enter  into  a  fuller  difquifition  of  many  points  ;  but 
this  mult  be  left  to  every  fcholar's  inclination  and  oppor- 
tunities in  future  life.  Its  importance  is  manifeft  from 
this  circumilance,  that  it  not  onl}^  points  out  perfonal 
duty,  but  is  related  to  the  whole  bufmefs  of  a6live  life. 
The  languages,  and  even  mathematical  and  natural 
knowledge,  are  but  hard  words  to  this  fuperior  fcience. 

2.  The  evidence  which  attends  moral  chfquifitions  is 
of  a  different  kind  from  that  which  attends  mathematics 
and  natural  philofophy  ;  but  it  remains  as  a  point  to  be 
difcuficd,  whether  it  is  more  uncertain  or  not.  At  firft 
jight  it  appears  that  audiors  difler  much  more,  and  m.ore 
eflentially  on  the  principles  of  moral  than  natural  philo- 
fophy. Yet  perhaps  a  time  may  come  v/hen  men,  treat- 
ing moral  philofophy  as  Newton  and  his  fuccellors  have 
done  natural,  may  arrive  at  greater  precifion.  It  is  al- 
ways fafer  in  our  reafonings  to  trace  facts  upwards,  than 
to  reaion  downwards  upon  metaphyfical  prhiciples.  An 
attempt  has  been  lately  made  by  Beatty,  in  his  Effay  on 
Truth,  to  ellablifli  certain  impreffions  of  common  fenfe 
as  axioms  and  lirll  principles  of  all  our  reafonings  on 
moral  fubje6ts. 

3.  The  differences  about  the  nature  of  virtue  are  not  in 
fa6:  fo  great  as  they  appear  :  they  amount  to  nearly  the 
fame  thing  in  the  ilTue,  when  the  particulars  of  a  virtuous 
life  come  to  be  enumerated. 

4.  The  different  foundations  of  virtue  are  many  of 
them,  not  oppofite  or  repugnant  to  each  other,  but  parts 


Moral  Philosophy.  373 

of  one  great  plan — as  benevolence  and  felf-Iove,  &c. 
They  all  confpire  to  found  real  virtue  :  the  authority  of 
God — the  didates  of  confcience — public  happinefs  and 
private  intereft  all  coincide. 

5.  There  is  nothing  certain  or  valuable  in  moral  philo- 
fophy,  but  what  is  perfectly  coincident  with  the  fcripture, 
where  the  glory  of  God  is  the  firll  principle  of  aQion  ari- 
fmg  from  the  fubjedion  of  the  creature — where  the  good 
of  others  is  the  great  object  of  dut}^,  and  our  own  intereft 
the  necelTary  confequence. 

In  the  firft  dawn  of  philofophy,  men  began  to  write 
and  difpute  about  virtue.  The  great  inquiry  among  the 
ancients  was,  what  was  the  summiim  honum  by  which  it 
feems  they  took  it  for  granted,  that  virtue  and  happinefs 
were  the  fame  thing.  The  chief  combatants  here,  were 
the  ftoics  and  epicureans.  The  firft  infifted  that  vir- 
tue was  the  fummum  bonum,  that  pleafure  was  no  good, 
and  pain  no  evil :  the  other  faid  that  the  fummum  bonum 
confided  in  pleafure,  or  rather  that  pleafure  was  virtue  : 
the  academifts  and  Platonifts  went  a  middle  way  between 
thefe. 

I  am  not  fenfible  that  there  is  any  thing  among  the  an- 
cients, that  wholly  correfponds  with  the  modem  difpute 
upon  the  foundation  of  virtue. 

Since  the  the  difputes  arofe  in  the  fixteenth  and  feven- 
teenth  centuries,  fome  of  the  mofl  confiderable  authors, 
chiefly  Britifh  are,  Leibnitz,  his  Theodicses  and  his  letters. 
Clark's  demonftration  and  his  letters.  Hutchinfon's  in- 
quiries into  the  ideas  of  beauty  and  virtue,  and  his  fyftem. 
WoUallon's  religion  of  nature  delineated.  Collins  on  hu- 
man liberty.  Nettleton  on  virtue  and  happinefs.  David 
Hume's  eflays.  Lord  Kaim's  eflays.  Smith's  theory  of 
moral  fentiments.  Reed's  inquiry.  Balfour's  delinea- 
tion of  morality.  Butler's  analogy  and  fermons.  Balzuy's 
trails.  Theory  of  agreeable  fenfations  from  the  French. 
Beatty  on  truth.     Effay  on  virtue  and  harmony. 

To  thefe  may  be  added  the  whole  deiilical  writers,  and 
the  anfwers  written  to  each  of  them  in  particular,  a  brief 
account  of  which  may  be  feen  in  Lelands  view  of  the  de- 
iilical writers. 


374  Lectures  on 

Some  of  the  chief  writers  upon  goverumem  and  poli- 
tics, are,  Grotius,  PufFendorf,  Barbyrac,  Cumberland, 
Selden,  Burlamaque,  Hobbs,  Machiavel,  Harrington, 
Locke,  Sydney,  and  fome  late  books,  Montefquieu's  fpi- 
rit  of  laws ;  Fergufon's  hillory  of  civil  fociety ;  Lord 
Kaime^s  political  eflays ;  Grandeur  and  decay  of  the 
Roman  empire ;  Montague's  rife  and  fall  of  ancient  re- 
publics ;  Goguet's  rife  and  progrefs  of  laws,  arts  ancj  fci- 
ences, 


LECTURES 


O  N 


ELOQUENCE 


id    i 


[  377  ] 


OBW  WOO  0000  0000  cooo  MOO  eooe  eeeo  ooeo  cooo  oooo  eooo  ooeo  ooip  eooi  ooeo  ocoa  ocoo  oooe  eoM  e«M  oooe  omo  cooe  cmo 
•MS  ;g«o  COM  coco  ciuoo  oooe  oew  eooo  toeo  cooo  oooo  oooo  oooo  oooe  oooo  eooa  moo  «coo  oooe  oooo  oooe  oo«o  oooo  oooo  oec* 


^     LECTURES 


O  N 


ELO   QUENCE 


Gentlemen, 

WE  are  now  to  enter  on  the  fludy  of  eloquence, 
or  as  perhaps  it  ought  to  be  called,  from  the 
manner  in  which  you  will  find  it  treated,  Compofition, 
Tafte,  and  Criticifm. 

Eloquence  is  undoubtedly  a  very  noble  art,  and  when 
poflefled  in  a  high  degree,  has  been  I  think  in  all  ages,  one 
of  the  moft  admired  and  envied  talents.  It  has  not  only 
been  admired  in  all  ages,  but  if  I  am  not  miftaken, 
among  all  ranks.  Its  power  is  univerfally  felt,  and  there- 
fore probably  the  talent  more  univerfally  eileemed,  than 
either  genius  or  improvement  in  feveral  other  kinds  of 
human  excellence.  Military  flcill,  and  political  wifdom, 
have  their  admirers,  but  far  inferior  in  number  to  thofe 
who  admire,  envy,  or  would  wifli  to  imitate  him  that 
has  the  power  of  perfuafion. 

Plato  in  his  republic,  or  idea  of  a  well  regulated  flate, 
has  banifhed  orators,  under  pretence,  that  their  power 
over  the  minds  of  men,  is  dangerous  and  liable  to 
abufe.  Some  moderns  have  adopted  the  fame  fenti- 
ments. 

Sir  Thomas  Moore  in  his  Utopia  I  believe,  (though  I 
am  not  certain)  has  embraced  it.     But  this  is  a  manner 

Vol.  IIL  3  B 


378  Ltcturcs  on 

of  ibiiiuing  and  reafoning  altogether  fuperficidl.  Ig 
would  militate  equall)^  againft  all  eultivation  of  the  mind, 
and  indeed  aj^^jainil  every  human  excellence,  natural  and 
acquired.  They  are,  and  have  been,  and  may  be  abufed 
by  men  of  viciGJus  dlfiwriUons.  But  hov/  fhall  this  be 
prevented  ?  it  is  impoffible.  How  fiiall  it  be  counter- 
a61:ed  ?  Only  by  affiiling  tlie;  good  in  the  cultivation  of 
their  powers,  and  then  the  fame  weapons  will  be  iifed  in 
defence  of  truth  and  virtue,  with  much  greater  advan- 
tage, than  they  can  be  in  fupport  of  falfehood  and  vice^ 
Learning  in  general  poflefred  by  a  bad  man  is  un- 
fpeakably  pernicious,  and  that  very  thing  has  ibnuetimes 
made,  vv-eak  people  fpeak  againll  learning  but  it  is  jufl 
as  abfurd  as  if  in  the  conunes  of  a  country  expofed  to 
hoflile  inroads,  the  in'iabitants  ihould  fay,  we  will  build 
no  forts  fcr  prote6lion,  becaufe  if  the  enemy  get  into 
polTeiJlon  of  them,  they  will  become  the  FReans  of  anoy- 
an6e,  we  will  ufe  no  arms  for  defence  ^  for  if  the  ene- 
my take  them  from  us,  they  will  be  turned  againft  us. 

Perhaps  it  may  be  proper  to  take  notice  of  what  the 
apoflle  Paul  fays  in  his  firll  epiftJe  to  the  Corinthians,  in 
feveral  places,  particularly  from  the  beginning  of  the  2d 
chapter  "  and  I  brethren,'^  kc.  and  in  the  4th  chap. 
II  verfe,  "  And  niy  fpeech,  and  my  preaching  was  not," 
&c.  I  have  mentioned  this  to  prevent  any  of  you  mif- 
taking  or  being  prejudiced  againft  the  fubjecSl,  and  fhall 
obferve  upon  it,  that  the  meaning  of  the  apoftle  in  this 
and  other  fimilar  paffages  is  iuiXj  comprehended  in  one 
or  more  of  the  following  particulars  (i)  That  he  came 
not  to  the  Corinthians  Vv'itli  an  artful  delufive  eloquence, 
fuch  as  the  fophifts  of  thefe  days  made  ufe  of,  to 
vamifli  over  their  foclifh  fentiments.  (2)  That  he  came 
not  to  fliow  his  fl^ill  in  fpeaking  for  and  againft  any 
thing,  as  many  of  them  did  not  to  difcover  or  com- 
municate truth,  but  to  difplay  their  own  talents.  (3) 
That  the  truths  he  had  to  communicate  needed  no  orna- 
ments to  let  them  ofF,  and  were  not  by  any  means  adapt- 
ed to  the  proud  fpirit  of  the  world,  and,  (4)  that  he 
V.  oald  ufe  the  greateft  felf  denial,  and  not  by  any  means 
atten)pt  to  recommend  himfelf  as  a  man  of  ability  and 


Eloquence.  3.79 

learning,  but  content  hinifelf  with  the  humb]e  and  fim- 
ple  doctrine  of  the  crofs.  .And  the  truth  is,  after  the 
Higheil:  improvement  in  the  art  of  fpeaking,  there  muft 
bii  the  greateit  referve  and  felt  denial  in  the  ufe  of  it^ 
othervvife  it  will  defeat  its  own  purpole.  Pdietoricians 
do  afually  give  it  among  the  very  precepts  of  the  art 
to  appear  to  be  in  earneli:,  and  to  have  the  fubje^l  or  the 
interefl  of  the  audience  at  heart,  and  not  their  ovv'n 
fame  ;  and  this  can  never  be  attained  to  fo  great  perfcdi- 
on  as  when  there  is  the  humility  of  a  true  difciple,  and 
ihe  difmterelled  zeal  of  a  faithful  mlnifler  of  Chrlfl. 
That  this  is  not  contrary  to  the  moil  diligent  application 
for  the  improvement  of  our  powers  is  manifefl  in  itfelf, 
and  appears  from  the  many  exhortations  of  the  fame  apof- 
tle  to  his  young  difciples,  Timothy  and  Titus,  i  Tim. 
iv.  13.  ''  till  1  conie  giv^  attendance,"  &c.  and  v.  15. 
''  meditate,"  Sec, 

I  know  not  whether  any  apology  is  necelfary  for  my 
undertaking  to  fpeak  on  this  fubjedl  or  the  ma,nner  of 
treating  it.  Some  may  expeflt  that  difcourfes  on  elo-. 
quence  fliould  be  diflinguifhed  examples  of  the  art  of 
which  they  treat.  SucJi  mayjudbe  pleafed  to  obferve, 
that  a  cool,  plain,  and  fimple  manner  of  fpeaking,  is  ne- 
ceffary  in  teaching  this,  as  well  as  every  other  art.  No, 
iloubt,  a  juftnefs  and  precifion  of  expreiTion,  \n\\  be  of 
great  benefit  in  thefe  dilbourfes,  but  there  \n\\  be  no  need 
of  that  high  and  complete  polifh  that  might  be  expected 
in  what  is  prepared  for  publication.  Nor  would  the 
fame  brevity  and  concifenefs,  be  any  advantage  to  dif- 
courfes once  delivered,  that  would  be  reckoned  a  beauty 
in  what  is  in  every  body^s  hands,  and  thierefore  may  be 
often  read. 

Before  entering  on  the  flrit^:  and  methodical  difcufiion 
of  the  fubje(?l:,  I  have  commonly  begun  tlie  courfe  by 
two  or  three  preliminary  difcourfes,  containing  fuch  ge- 
neral obfervations  as  may  be  molt  intelligible,  and  may 
ferve  to  prepare  the  way  for  what  fliall  be  afterwards  in-, 
troduced. 

The  fubjedl  of  the  firfl:  preliminary  difcourfe,  fliall  be 
the  following  quellion;  whether  does  art  or  nature,  coi;» 
tribute  moft  to  the  produdioxi  of  a  complete  orator  ? 


380  Lectures  on 

This  is  a  queftion  often  aflced,  and  many  things  have 
been  faid  upon  it  ;  yet  to  difcufs  it  as  a  matter  of  contro- 
verfy,  and  adduce  the  arguments  on  each  fide,  in  order  to  a 
decifion  in  favor  of  the  one,  and  prejudice  of  the  other, 
I  take  to  be  of  very  little  confequence,  or  rather  impro- 
per and  abfurd.  It  feems  tobejuftas  if  one  fliould  pro- 
pofe  an  inquiry,  whether  the  foil,  the  climate,  or  the 
culture,  contributes  moft  to  the  production  of  the  crop  ? 
Therefore,  inftead  of  treating  the  queftion  as  if  one  fide 
of  it  were  true,  and  the  other  falfe,  1  fliall  make  a  few 
obfervations  on  the  mutual  influence  of  nature  and  art, 
in  order  to  your  forming  juft  apprehenfions  of  the  fub- 
jecl,  and  to  direct  you  in  your  future  conduct  and  Itu- 
dies. 

I.  Some  degree  of  natural  capacity  is  evidently  necef- 
fary  to  the  inllrudion  or  ftudy  of  this  art,  in  order  to 
produce  any  efFe6l.  A  ilcllful  laborer  may  fubdue 
a  very  fhibborn,  or  meliorate  a  very  poor  foil ;  but  when 
there  is  no  foil  at  all,  as  on  a  bare  and  follid  rock,  his 
labor  would  be  impoffible  or  fruitlefs.  There  mufltliere- 
fore  doubtlefs  be  fome  capacity,  in  general,  and  even  fome 
turn  for  this  very  branch  of  knowledge.  In  this  ienfe 
it  is  true  of  every  other  art  as  well  as  oratory,  a  man 
mull  be  born  to  it. 

There  are  fome  {o  diftitute  of  oratorical  powers, 
that  nothing  can  poflibly  be  made  of  them.  It  will  be 
llrange  however,  if  this  is  not  eafily  difcovered  by  them- 
felves,  and  if  it  does  not  make  the  fludy  as  unpleafant 
as  it  is  difficult,  fo  that  they  will  fpeedily  give  it  over. 
I  have  known  fome  examples,  but  very  few,  of  mini- 
Hers,  whofe  principal  defeft  was  mere  barrennefs  of  in- 
vention. This  is  exceedingly  rare,  becaufe  the  far 
greatell  number  of  bad  fpeakers  have  enough  to  fay,  fuch 
as  it  is,  and  generally  the  more  abfurd  and  incoherent, 
the  greater  the  abundance. 

When  fpeaking  on  this  obfervation,  I  muft  make  one 
remark,  that  a  total  want  of  capacity  for  one  branch  of 
fcience,  is  not  inconfiftent  even  with  a  great  capacity  for 
another.  We  fometimes  fee  great  mathematicians  who 
make  miferable  orators.     Nay  it  is  reckoned  by  fome  of 


Eloquence.  381 

ttie  beft  judges  that  this  fludy  is  unfriendly  to  oratory. 
The  definite  precifion  of  mathematical  ideas,  which  may 
all  be  ultimately  referred  to  menfuratlon,  feems  to  be 
contrary  to  the  freedom  and  boldnefs  of  imagination,  iu 
which  the  ftrength  of  oratory  lies.  There  are,  however, 
exceptions  to  this  in  fa6l.  Dr.  Clark  and  Dr.  Barrow,  two 
of  the  moft  eminent  mathematicians  of  the  lad  age,  were 
alfo  eminent  orators,  that  is  to  fay,  the  firit  was  a  very 
accurate  writer,  the  other  a  very  fervent  preacher. 

I  have  only  further  to  obferve,  that  many  have  thought 
academical  teaching  not  to  be  favorable  to  oratory  ;  that  is 
to  fay,  thofe  who  are  accuftomed  to  the  cool  difpaflionate 
manner  of  fpeaking,  ufual  and  neceflary  in  the  inftruc- 
tion  of  youth,  frequently  lofe  a  good  deal  of  that  fire 
and  impetuofity  which  they  might  naturally  pofiefs,  and 
which  is  of  fo  much  importance  in  fpeaking  to  a  large  and 
promifcuous  affembly. 

2.  To  make  what  is  called  a  complete  orator,  very 
great  natural  powers  are  neceflary,  and  great  cultivation 
too.  The  truth  is,  when  wt  fpeak  of  a  complete  orator, 
we  generally  form  an  idea  of  perfedlion  fuperior  to  any 
thing  that  ever  exifted,  by  aflembling  together  all  the  ex- 
cellencies of  every  kind  that  have  been  {ttn  in  different 
pcrfons,  or  that  we  are  able  from  what  we  have  feen  to 
to  form  an  imagination  of.  We  can  eafdy  enumerate 
many  of  thefe,  for  example,  great  penetration  of  mind- — 
great  literature  and  extenfive  knowledge — a  ftrong  and 
lively  imagination  reined  in  by  a  correftnefs  of  judg- 
ment, a  rich  invention,  and  retentive  memory,  tender- 
nefs  and  fenfibility  of  aflfedlion,  an  acquaintance  with 
the  world,  and  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  human 
heart.  To  thefe  we  mud  add  all  external  perfections, 
an  open  countenance,  a  graceful  carriage,  a  clear  articu- 
late ilrong  melodious  voice.  There  is  not  one  of  thefe 
but  is  capable  of  great  improvement  by  application  and 
ftudy,  as  well  as  by  much  pra6lice.  In  all  the  great  ora- 
tors of  whom  we  read,  there  appears  to  have  been  an 
union  of  natural  talents  and  acquired  flcill,  Pericles* 
Demofrhenes,  Cicero,  Hortentius.  To  thefe  you  may  add 
^11  the  fpeakers  mentioned  by  Cicero  and  Quintijian, 


382  Lectures  on 

taking  their  tzilents  and  peiiormances  to  have  been  as  re- 
lated by  thele  authors. 

3.  Perhaps  the  mofl  extraordinary  appearances  in  tkis, 
as  well  as  in  other  branches,  have  been  from  nature 
wholly,  or  but  with  little  iludy.  Thefe  fpontaneous  pro- 
ductions are  as  fo  many  prodigies.  It  is  commonly  be- 
lieved that  the  orators  and  fages  at  the  firft  formation  of 
fociety,  were  more  powerful  in  their  elocution  than  in 
more  polifhed  times.  This,  however,  I  am  apt  to  think 
is  in  fome  degree  founded  on  a  miflake.  There  might 
be  more  extraordinary  efFefts  of  eloquence,  becaufe  the 
ignorant  or  fuperftitious  herd  were  then  more  eafily  movr 
ed,  but  this  was  as  much  owing  to  the  ftate  of  the  audience 
as  the  power  of  the  fpeakers.  The  fame  fire  that  would 
burn  a  heap  of  dry  brufh,  would  not  make  any  impref- 
fion  upon  a  heap  of  green  logs.  It  might  alfo  be  owing 
to  another  circumilance,  which  I  fhall  have  occafion  aL 
terwards  to  explain  more  fully,  the  narrownefs  of  lan- 
guage and  the  ufe  of  figures,  which  have  fo  great  an  efFedt 
upon  the  imagination. 

But  allowing  very  great  force  to  uncultivated  prodigies 
of  genius  in  every  kind,  I  am  apt  to  think  it  is  lefs  pow- 
erful, comparatively  fpeakiug,  in  oratory  than  in  poetry. 
It  has  been  an  old  faying,  Poeta  nafcitur  &  non  fit.  There 
are  two  reafons  why  the  poetry  of  nature,  without  art, 
feems  to  be  fo  much  admired,  i.  That  in  fuch  a  poet  a 
ftrong  unbounded  fancy  mufi:  be  the  prevailing  character, 
and  this  is  what  chiefly  captivates  the  mind.  It  mull  be 
a  very  ftrong  inward  impulfe  that  induces  a  man  to  be- 
come a  poet  without  example,  and  without  inftrudion. 
2.  It  is  found  in  fa6l  that  the  knowledge  of  the  rules  of 
art  fome  how  cramps  and  deters  the  mind,  and  reflrains 
that  boldnefs,  or  happy  extravagance,  that  gives  fuch  ge- 
neral delight.  It  is  an  obfervation  of  an  ingenious  au- 
thor, that  in  no  polifhed  nation  after  the  rules  of  criticifm 
were  f  jlly  fettled  and  generally  underftood,  was  there 
ever  any  great  wo^k  of  genius  produced.  This,  howe- 
ver,  mull  be  underflood  chiefly  of  what  are  called  the 
liigher  fpecies  of  poetry,  epic  poetry  and  tragedy,  and  for 
the  reafons  juit  now  given  it  mufl  be  h  in  them.     Hp- 


Eloquence,  -■  383 

met  is  the  great  poet  of  nature,  and  it  is  generally  thought 
that  there  is  greater  fire  in  him  than  in  Virgil,  juft  be- 
caufe  lie  lived  at  a  time  when  the  rules  of  writing  were 
unknown.  The  faine  thing  is  faid  of  Shakefpeare,  of 
our  own  country,  and  perhaps  the  late  difcovered  poems 
of  OHian  may  be  confidered  as  another  example.  After 
all,  perhaps  the  comparifon  made  between  the  effeds  of 
nature  and  art,  is  at  bottom  wrong,  and  that  they  produce 
beauties  of  different  kinds — A  wild  uncultivated  foreft,  a 
vafl:  precipice  or  fteep  catara<5t  or  waterfall,  is  fuppofed  to 
be  an  object  more  auguft  and  ftriking,  than  any  ornaments 
produced  by  human  fkill.  The  order  and  fymmetry 
however,  of  architedlure  and  gardening  are  highly  plea- 
fmg,  and  ought  not  properly  to  be  compared  with  the  other, 
as  pleafing  the  imagination  in  a  different  degree,  fo  much 
as  in  a  different  kind. 

The  effects  of  the  poetry  of  nature,  therefore  in  one 
view  are  very  great,  and  continue  to  be  fo  in  all  ages, 
becaufe  they  touch  the  foul  in  one  way,  which  continues 
to  be  univerfally  felt :  but  I  doubt  much  whether  eloquence 
ever  arrived  at  much  excellence,  without  confiderable 
iludy,  or  at  leaft  previous  patterns,  on  which  to  form. 
The  firft  great  poets  were  before  all  criticifm,  and  before 
even  the  poliiliing  of  human  manners ;  but  the  firft  great 
orators  appeared  in  improved,  civilized  ftates,  and  were 
the  confequence  of  the  knowledge  of  mankind,  and  the 
ftudy  of  the  human  heart. 

4.  When  perfons  are  meanly  qualified  in  point  of  na- 
turpd  capacity  for  any  art,  it  is  not  very  proper  to  attempt 
to  inftru6t  them  in  it.  It  is  not  only  difficult  to  inftruct 
thofe  who  have  a  radical  incapacity  for  any  ftudy,  but 
fometimes  they  are  much  the  worfe  for  application,  juft 
as  fine  clothes  and  a  courtly  drefs  upon  a  clown  renders 
him  unfpeakably  ridiculous.  Some  who  are  utterly  void 
of  tafte  for  fpeaking,  after  long  ftudy,  and  fometimes  even 
by  great  literature,  become  more  obfcure,  more  tedious, 
and  more  given  to  fvvelling  and  bombaft  than  the  moft  un- 
cultivated perfon  in  the  world.  The  want  of  a  fund  of 
good  fenfe  and  genuine  tafte,  makes  ignorant  perfons  fools, 
and  fcholars  pedants.     A  plain  man  will  tell  you  of  tak- 


384  Lectures  on 

ing  a  purge  or  a  dofe  of  phyfic,  and  you  neither  miftake 
him  nor  laugh  at  him.  A  quack  of  a  phyfician  will  tell 
you  of  a  mucilagenous  decodion,  to  fmooth  the  acid  par- 
ticles, and  carry  off  the  acrimonious  matter  that  corrodes 
and  irritates  the  internal  coats  of  the  flomach. 

5.  In  the  middle  regions  of  genius,  there  are  often  to 
be  found  thofe  who  reap  the  greateft  benefit  from  educa- 
tion and  ftudy.  They  improve  their  powers  by  exercife, 
and  it  is  furprifmg  to  think  what  advances  are  to  be  made 
by  the  force  of  refolution  and  application.  I  might  give 
you  many  examples  of  this  in  the  annals  of  literature  ; 
but  the  one  moll  fuited  to  our  purpofe  is,  that  Demoflhencs 
himfelf,  Is  faid  at  firil  to  have  labored  under  almofl  infu- 
perab'C  d'fliculties  :  it  is  faid  he  could  not  even  pronounce 
at  firft,  all  the  letters  of  the  Greek  alphabet,  particularly 
the  letter  R,  the  firll  letter  of  his  art,  as  the  critics  have 
called  it. 

Perfons  of  the  middle  degrees  of  capacity,  do  alfo,  per- 
haps generally,  fill  the  mofl:  ufeful  and  important  ftations 
in  human  life.  A  very  great  genius,  is  often  like  a  very 
fine  flower,  to  be  wondered  at,  but  of  little  fervice  either 
for  food  or  medicine.  A  very  great  genius  is  alfo  often 
accompanied  with  certain  irregularities,  fo  that  we  only 
confider  with  regret,  what  he  might  have  been,  if  the 
lively  f:\llies  of  his  imagination  had  been  reined  in  a  little, 
and  kept  under  the  direQion  of  fober  judgment. 

On  the  whole,  you  may  plainly  perceive  what  great  en- 
couragement there  is  for  diligence  in  your  ftudies,  and 
be  perfuaded  to  attend  to  the  inflru6lions  to  be  given  you 
on  this  fubjecl  in  particular,  with  affiduity  and  care. 


LECTURE    II. 

iN  this,  which  as  the  former,  I  confider  as  a  preliminary 
'difcourfe,  I  will  endeavor  to  give  you  fome  general 
rules,  which  as  they  belong  equally  to  all  forts  of  writing, 
would  not  come  in  fo  properly  under  the  divifions  of  the 

fubj^-'ct' 


Eloquence.  385 

t.  Study  and  imitate  the  greatefl  examples.  Get  the 
moil  approved  authors  for  compofition,  read  them  often 
and  V.  1th  care.  Imitation  is  v/hat  commonly  gives  us  our 
iirft  ideas  upon  any  fubjecl.  It  is  by  example  that  am- 
bition Is  kindled,  and  youth  prompted  to  excel.  It  is  by 
remarks  upon  a<itual  produQions,  that  crlticifm  itfelf  is 
formed.  Men  vi^ere  not  firft  taught  by  mailers  to  fpeak, 
either  in  oratory  or  poefy ;  but  they  firfl  felt  the  impulfe, 
and  did  as  they  could,  and  their  refle6lion  and  obfervation, 
by  making  the  comparifon,  found  out  what  w^as  bell. 
And  after  the  exiftence  of  precepts,  it  is  by  examples 
that  precepts  are  made  plain  and  intelligible.  An  ac- 
quaintance with  authors,  will  alfo  be  the  bell  mean  of  de- 
terming  what  is  your  own  turn  and  capacity,  for  you  will 
probably  moll  relifli  thofe  writers  and  that  manner,  that 
you  are  bell  able  to  imitate. 

For  this  purpofe,  let  the  bed  authors  be  chofcn,  ancient 
and  modern.  A  controverfy  has  often  rifen  am.ong  cri- 
tics and  men  of  letters,  upon  the  preference  being  due  to 
ancient  or  modern  writers.  This  queflion  was  debated 
in  profeflb,  in  the  lafl  age,  and  fome  very  great  men  en- 
gaged in  it.  The  famous  M.  Fenelon,  arch-billiop  of 
Cambray,  has  VvTitten  a  treatife  upon  it,  called  the  Wars 
of  the  poets;  and  Dean  Swift  wrote  his  account  of  the 
battle  of  the  books  in  St.  James  library,  on  the  fame  fub- 
je6l.  I  reckon  it  is  wrong  to  be  opinlonative  in  fuch  a 
controverfy,  and  very  eafy  to  pufh  it  to  excefs  on  both 
fides.  No  doubt  the  fev/  remains  of  remote  antiquity, 
have  furvlved  the  VvTecks  of  time,  in  a  great  meafure  by 
their  excellence  itfelf,  and  therefore  will  always  be  con- 
fidered  as  flandards.  And  as  they  are  chiefly  works  of 
imagination  that  have  been  fo  preferved,  and  true  tafte  is 
the  fame  in  all  ages,  they  mufl  deferve  real  efleem,  and 
this  will  be  fomewliat  augmented,  by  the  veneration  felt  for 
their  antiquity  itfelf.  Homer  is  the  firft  and  great  pattern 
of  writing,  to  whom  the  highefl  commendations  have  been 
given  in  every  age.  Horace  fays,  Vos  exemplaria  Gre- 
ca  (meaning  chiefly  Homer)  noclurna  verfate  manu,  ver- 
fate  diurna ;  and  Mr.  Pope  fays, 

Vol.  III.  Q  C 


386  Lectures  en 

"  Be  Homer's  works  your  fludy  arid  delight^ 
"  Read  him  by  day,  and  meditate  by  night." 

Now  the  beauties  of  Homer  we  arc  eafily  capable  of 
perceiving,  though  perhaps  not  his  faults.  The  beauty 
of  a  defcription,  the  force  of  a  fmiilitude,  we  can  plainly 
fee  ;  but  whether  he  always  adhered  to  truth  and  nature, 
we  cannot  tell,  becaufe  we  have  no  other  way  of  know- 
ing the  manners  and  cuftoms  of  his  times  but  from  what 
he  has  written. 

The  powers  of  mankind,  however,  are  certainly  the 
fame  in  all  ages,  but  change  of  circumilances  may  cre- 
ate diverfity  in  the  appearance  and  produQions  of  geni- 
us. Thefe  circumilances  tend  to  produce  excellence  of 
different  kinds.  The  beldnefs,  and  almoft  exceflive 
flights  of  imagination  in  uncultivated  times,  give  way  to 
beauties  of  a  different  nature,  to  order,  judgment  and  pre^ 
cifion.  A  maflerly  judgment  will  endeavor  to  imder- 
fland  the  reafons  on  both  fides.  It  is  certain,  however, 
that  there  are  great  and  excellent  patterns  to  form  upon 
both  ancient  and  modern.  And  it  is  very  proper  for 
young  perfons  to  read  authors,  after  they  have  heard  cri- 
ticifms  and  remarks  made  upon  them.  Thefe  criticifms 
you  may  take  at  firfl  either  from  books  or  converfation. 
Try  if  you  canobferve  the  genius,  or  peculiar  and  charac- 
teriftic  turn  of  an  author,  not  only  his  excellencies, 
but  wherein  they  are  peculiar  to  him,  and  defferent  from 
thofe  of  others.  Cicero  is  flowing,  fervent,  ornate — 
Somewhat  vain  and  oftentatious,  but  mafterly  in  his  way. 
Demollhenes  is  fimple,  clofe,  nervous,  rapid  and  irrefiil- 
ible.  Livy  has  a  bewitching  knack  of  telling  a  ftory, 
he  is  fo  expreffive  and  defcriptive,  that  one  cannot  help 
being  pleafed  with  it,  even  after  feveral  times  reading. 

Salluil  excells  in  giving  charadlers,  which  he  ftrikes  off 
in  fmgle  epithets,  or  very  concife  remarks,  Tacitus  is 
chiefly  remarkable  for  judicious  and  fagacious  obfervation«s 
on  human  life  ;  and  Xenophon  is  fuperior  to  almoft  every 
author  in  dignity,  elegance,  and  fweetnefs  in  the  narrati- 
on. 


Eloquence.  387 

Of  modern  authors  in  our  own  language,  Mr.  Addi- 
fon  is  a  noble  pattern  of  elegance,  dignity  and  ITmplicity. 
Swift  in  his  political  pieces,  writes  with  great  ftrengrh 
and  force,  and  is  perhaps  a  pattern  of  ftile,  which  has 
fcarcely  been  exceeded  fmce  his  time.  Harvey  in  his 
meditations  has  a  great  deal  of  very  lively  and  animated 
defcription,  but  it  is  fo  highly  ornamented,  that  it  is  fome- 
what  dangerous  in  the  imitation.  Dr.  Robertfon  in  his 
hiflory,  has  as  juil  a  mixture  of  llrength  and  elegance,  as 
any  other  author  I  know  in  the  Engliih  language.  I  can- 
not help  here  cautioning  you  againft  one  modern  author 
of  fbme  eminence,  Johnfon  the  author  of  the  Rambler. 
lie  is  fo  fliiF  and  abflradted  in  his  manner  and  fuch  a 
lover  of  hard  words,  that  he  is.  the  worft  pattern  fqr 
young  perfons  that  can  be  namecj. 

It  has  been  given  fometimes  as  a  rule,  to  form  oneV 
felf  upon  a  particular  author,  who  may  be  moft  agreeable 
to  a  fiudent's  tafte,  and  perhaps  congenial  (if  I  may 
fpeak  fo,)  to  his  capacity.  It  is  pretty  common  to  fall 
into  this  without  defign,  by  a  natural  propenfity.  It  is 
faid  that  Demoflhenes  wrote  over  the  hiftory  of  Thuce- 
dides  eight  times,  that  he  might  the  more  efFc6luaUy 
form  himfelf  to  his  flyle  and  manner.  I  cannot  fay  I 
would  recommend  this,  itfeems  to  be  too  much  honor  to 
give  to  any  one  perfon.  I  would  not  be  guilty  of  idolatry 
of  any  kind.  A  comprehenfive  knowledge  of  many 
authors,  or  at  leaf!  a  confiderable  number  of  the  beil,  is 
certainly  far  preferable.  If  there  be  any  advantage  in 
particular  imitation  it  is  that  it  is  the  eafieft  way  of  coming 
to  a  fixed  or  formed  ftyle.  Onq  will  foon  run  into  an 
imitation  of  an  author  with  whom  he  is  much  conver- 
fent,  and  of  whom  he  is  a  great  admirer,  and  in  this 
view,  to  fome  perfons  of  moderate  capacity,  it  may  not 
be  an  improper  method.  But  perfons  of  real  and  original 
genius,  fhould  be  rather  above  fuch  a  pradlice,  as  it 
will  certainly  make  them  fall  fliort  pf  what  they  would 
otherwife  attain. 

To  this  we  may  add,  that  particular  imitation  is  liable 
^  to.feveral  very  great  dangers,     (i)  It  leads  to  fervility  of 
iwJtatiqn,.    Such  perfon  often  may  be  faid  to  borrow  tbc, 


388  Lectures  on 

piece,  inflead  of  imitating  the  pattern.  When  a  fervile 
imitation  is  perceived,  which  it  always  will  be,  it  is  cer- 
tain to  be  defpifed.  Even  a  manner  ever  fo  excellent,  if 
merely  a  copy,  brings  no  credit  to  a  fpeaker.  And  if  a 
•writer  retail  the  very  fentiments  and  language  of  another, 
it  is  confidered  as  an  abfurdity.  (2)  Servile  imitation 
leads  to  copying  defeats.  There  neither  is,  nor  ever 
was  any  fpeaker  or  writer  free  from  defeats  or  blemiHies 
of  fomekind.  Yet  fervile  imitators  never  fail  to  copy 
the  defedts  as  v/ell  as  beauties.  I  fhould  fuppofe  that  any 
one  who  made  Cicero  his  particular  model,  would  very 
probably  transfufe  a  proportion  of  his  vanity  and  cflenta- 
tion,   and  probably  more  of  that  than  of  his  fire. 

But  of  all  forts  of  imitation  the  moil  dangerous  is  the 
imitation  of  living  fpeakers,  and  yet  to  this  young  fcho- 
]ars  are  mofl  prone,  fometimcs  by  defign,  and  forne- 
times  quite  infenfibly.  It  is  attended  in  the  highefl;  de- 
gree with  the  difadvantage  of  copying  defeds.  In  living 
fpeakers,  there  are  not  only  peculiarities  of  flyle  and 
blemifhes  in  compofition  to  copy,  but  in  looks,  tone  and 
geflure.  It  is  a  matter  of  conftant  experience,  that 
imitators  catch  the  blemifhes  eafiefl;,  and  retaiil  them 
longeft.  And  it  is  1 0  be  obferved,  that  defeats,  when  they 
are  natural  and  undefigned,  appear  very  inconfiderable  ; 
but  when  they  are  copied  a.nd  adopted  voluntarily,  we 
cannot  help  defpifmg  the  folly  and  abfurdity  of  one  that 
judges  fo  ill.  Further,  w^hen  defeds  are  occafional  and 
undefigned,  they  are  generally  inconfiderable  ;  but  when 
they  are  copied  they  are  com^monly  aggravated  and  over- 
charged, and  fo  appear  quite  monftrous.  This  mull  be 
ib  ;  for  even  the  very  bell  manner  looks  filly  in  the  imita- 
tor, although  jull  and  graceful  in  the  original. 

2.  An  excellent  general  rule  is  to  accuflom  yourfelves 
early  and  much  to  compofition,  and  exercife  in  pronunci- 
ation. Pra^^ice  is  neceifary  in  order  to  learn  any  thing 
to  perfection.  There  is  fomething  to  be  learned  from 
praClice,  v^hich  no  inflru6lion  can  impart.  It  is  fo  in  eve- 
ry^other  art  as  well  as  in  this — mathematics,  geometry  and 
in  navigation;  after  you  have  learned  the  theory  in  the  moft 
yerfed  manner,  there  is  ftili  a  namelefs  fomething,  whigU 


Eloquence,  38.9 

nothing  but  experience  can  bellow.  You  mult  not  wait 
till  you  are  mailers  of  the  rules  of  art  before  \ou  begin  to 
put  them  in  pradlice.  Exercife  mull  go  hand  in  hand 
with  inftru61ion,  that  the  one  may  give  meaning,  force 
and  direction  to  the  other.  I  do  not  mean  that  you  fliould 
be  fond  of  entering  very  foon  upon  real  life,  but  that  you 
fliould  be  affiduous  in  preparatory  exercifes.  This  is  a  rule 
given  by  Cicero  in  his  book  De  Oratore,  .which  he  rec- 
kons of  great  importance — Scribendum  qiiani  plurimiim^ 
and  he  declares  it  to  have  beeji  liis  own  pradlice. 

Since  we  are  upon  private  exercifes  of  compofition,  it 
may  perhaps  give  you  a  clearer  view  of  the  matter  to 
mention  fonie  of  the  various  wa}'S  in  v;hich  it  may  be 
Separately  tried.  It  may  be  tried  in  tranllation,  perhaps 
it  may  be  belt  to  try  it  liril  here.  Tranflation^wiil  accuf- 
tom  you  to  attend  to  the  various  idioms  of  language,  and 
to  undcriland  the  genius  of  your  own  language  :  for  when 
tranllating  you  will  fpeedily  find  that  to  render  out  of  any 
one  language  into  another,  ad  verbum,  would  be  very 
forry  compofition.  It  may  be  tried  alfo  in  narration. 
This  I  think  Ihould  be  the  next  Hep  to  tranflation,  to  learn 
to  give  a  naked  account  of  facts  with  fimpllcity  and  pre- 
cilion.  This,  alio,  though  certainly  in  itfelf  more  obvi- 
ous and  ealier  than  Ibme  other  kinds,  yet  it  is  by  no 
means  fo  eafy  as  fome  imagine.  Imitation  of  a  particu- 
lar paflage,  or  compofition  of  fome  author,  by  writing 
upon  fomething  quite  fnnilar,  may  perhaps  be  the 
next  in  order.  To  underlland  Vvhat  this*  is  you  need 
only  look  into  an  admirable  example  of  it  in  poetry,  Mr. 
Pope's  imitation  of  a  fatire  in  Horace,  beginning  Qui 
virtus  &  quanta,  &ic.  After  this  comes  defcription, 
painting  fcenes,  or  drawing  characters.  Then  argumenta- 
tion :  And,  lailly,  perfuafion,  I  believe  it  would  be  a  great 
improvement  of  the  laudable  pradice  in  this  college  of 
daily  orations,  if  they  were  chofen  with  more  judgment, 
and  better  fuited  to  the  performers.  Almoit  all  the  pieces 
we  have  delivered  to  us  are  of  the  lalt  or  higheft  kind, 
warm  paffionate  declamations.  It  is  no  wonder  that 
fome  fliould  perform  thefe  ill,  who  have  never  tried  the 
plainer  manner  of  fimple  narration.     Suppofing  a  ftudeat 


390  Lectures  on 

to  have  tried  all  thef'e  ways  of  compofition  for  his  own 
improvement,  w^ould  he  not  be  by  that  means  fenfible  in 
what  way  he  is  moll  able  to  excel,  as  alfo  having  made 
trial  of  them  feparately,  he  is  more  able  to  vary  his  dic- 
tion, and  give  compafs  to  his  difcourfe  upon  a  general 
fubjedl.  Thefc  are  like  an  analyfis  or  fmiple  divifion  of 
compofition ;  and  as  perfons  read  beft  who  have  been  firft 
taught  to  refolve  words  into  fy llables,  and  fy  11  ables  into 
letters,  fo  the  eafiefl:  and  completed  way  of  any  to  com- 
pofition is  to  begin  it  in  this  order. 

In  fuch  exereifes  let  me  by  all  means  recommend  to 
you,  early  to  acquire,  and  always  to  preferve  a  certain 
patience  and  refolution  of  mind,  which  will  enable  you 
to  apply  with  vigor,  not  only  for  a  time,  but  to  review 
and  correct  your  pieces,  and  bring  them  to  fome  degree  of 
perfection,  and  your  tafte  to  fome  degree  of  aceuracy. 
To  explain  this  a  little,  there  are  three  things  equally  con- 
trary to  it,  and  perhaps  equally  prejudicial,  (i.)  Mere 
weaknefs  and  want  of  courage,  which  finding  one  at- 
tempt unfuccefsful,  will  hardly  be  brought  to  make  ano- 
ther. When  a  young  perfon  firft  goes  to  exercile  him« 
felf  in  compofition,  he  finds  the  thing  fo  uncouth  and 
difficult,that  he  is  apt  to  confider  it  as  altogether  impoffible, 
(2.)  There  is  a  fault  contrary  to  this,  a  vanity  of  mind, 
'which  is  fo  pleafed  with  any  thing  it  does  as  neither  to 
fee  its  own  faults,  nor  be  willing  to  hear  them.  There  are 
fome  who,  from  the  beginning  of  life,  think  it  a  great  pity 
that  any  of  their  productions  fhould  be  blotted  or  erafed. 
It  is  not  to  be  fuppofed  that  they  will  make  great  progrefs 
in  knowledge  or  tafte.  (3.)  There  is  another  fort  per^ 
haps  diftinCt  from  both,  who  are  of  a  loofe,  defultory 
dilpofition,  fo  unftaid  that  they  cannot  fpend  long  enough 
time  upon  any  thing  to  do  it  well,  or  fometimes  even  ta 
bring  it  to  a  conclufion.  They  will  begin  an  effay  upon  a 
fubjedt,  but  are  prefently  out  of  conceit  with  it,  and  there* 
fore  will  do  it  very  carelefsly,  or  before  it  is  finiftied  muft 
away  to  another,  which  ftruck  their  fancy  more  lately. 

That  fteady  application  which  I  have  recommended 
Fome  of  the  ancients  were  very  remarkable  for.  Some 
of  them  indeed  feemed  to  carry  it  to  an  excefs.     They 


Eloquence*  391 

would  fometimes  fpend  as  much  time  in  polilliing  an  epi- 
gram, or  little  trifling  panegyric,  as  might  have  been  fuf- 
ficient  for  the  production  of  a  work  of  extenfive  utility. 
However,  this  is  not  the  moll  common  error  ;  running 
over  a  great  deal  in  a  fuperficial  way  is  the  bane  of  com- 
pofition.  Horace,  with  his  ufual  elegance,  ridicules  this 
difpofition,  when  he  fays,  Detur  nobiis  locus,  &c.  and 
fomewhere  clfe  he  brings  in  a  vain-glorious  poet,  boafl- 
ing  how  many  verfes  he  had  made,  or  could  make,  when 
Handing  upon  one  foot. 


LECTURE    III. 

IN  this  difcourfe  I  intend  to  finifh  what  I  began  in  the 
laft,  viz.  laying  down  fome  general  rules  to^form  the 
tafte  and  diredt  the  conduCl  of  a  ftudent. 

3.  Be  careful  to  acquaint  yourfelves  well,  and  to  be  as 
perfedl  as  poffible  in  the  branches  that  are  fubordinate  to 
the  ftudy  of  eloquence.  Thefe,  becaufe  they  ought  to  be 
learnt  in  the  earlicft  llages,  if  they  are  negleded,  fome  are 
unwilling  or  afhamed  to  go  back  to  them.  What  I  have 
here  in  view  chiefly  are  the  grammar,  orthography,  and 
punctuation  of  the  Englifh  language.  It  is  not  un- 
common to  find  orators  of  confiderable  name,  both  in  the 
pulpit  and  at  the  bar,  far  from  being  accurate  in  point  of 
grammar.  This  is  evidently  a  very  great  blemifli.  Per- 
haps it  may  be  occafioned  in  fome  meafure  by  the  Englifh 
feldom  or  never  being  taught  grammatically  to  children. 
But  thofe  who  have  learned  the  principles  of  grammar,  in 
the  Greek  and  Latin  languages,  fhould  be  more  ready  to 
attend  to  it.  I  am  fenfible  that  the  grammar  of  every  lan- 
guage is  ultimately  fixed  by  cullom  >  with  regai'd  to 
which,  Horace  fays,  Quam  penes  arbitrum  ell,  &:c.  But 
even  here  we  muft  attend  to  the  meaning  of  the  fentiment. 
It  is  not  the  cufiom  of  the  vulgar  that  eftabliflies  either  the 
grammar  or  pronunciation  of  any  language,  but  that 
Which  is  received  and  eftablifhed  by  the  bed  writers.  You 


392  Lectures  on 

will  {ay,  how  do  tliefe  writers  determine  themfelves  ?  Are 
not  they  alfo  guided  by  practice  ?  They  arc  in  a  great  mea- 
iiire,  and  it  is  generally  faid,  that  die  pradlice  of  the  capi- 
tal of  a  nation,  or  of  the  court  in  that  capital,  fettles  the 
grammar.  This  mud  in  fubftance  be  agreed  to,  yet  judg- 
ment and  analogy  will  frequently  fuggefl  improvements, 
introduce  a  good,  or  abolifli  anillcuilom.  You  mufi:  not 
fuppofe,.  that  all  the  phrafes  of  the  vulgar  in  London,  are 
therefore  agreeable  to  the  grammar  of  the  Englifli,  or  even 
that  at  court,  all  the  nobility,  male  and  female,  Ipeak  with 
perfect  propriety.  It  is  in  the  laft  refort,  the  men  of  li- 
terature, particularly  the  authors,  who  taking  cuflom  as 
a  general  rule,  give  it  ail  the  direclilion  they  can,  by  their 
reafoning  and  examiple. 

To  make  you  underftand  this  by  fome  inflances,  you  fee 
Mr.  Addifon,  Dean  Swift,  and  Mr.  Pope,  have  endeavored 
to  attend  to  the  genius  of  the  Enghfli  language,  to  fliow 
Vv^here  it  was  harfh  and  unpoliflied,  and  where  improprie- 
ties might  be  correded,  and  they  have  fucceeded  in  a  great 
nieafure.  It  was  obferved  by  all  thofe  great  men,  that 
the  Englifli,  and  all  the  northern  languages  are  harfli,  by 
the  numbers  of  confonants  meeting  without  intervening 
vowels,  therefore,  that  it  is  a  great  barbarifm  to  (Irike  out 
the  vowels  that  we  have,  as  in  thefe  words,  don't,  can't, 
didn't,  wouldn't,  fhouldn't,  rebuk'd,  drudg'd,  fledg'd. 
Several  of  thefe  words  hiay  yet  be  heard  in  fome  places, 
and  I  have  even  {(^tn  them  in  print  in  America  ;  but  no 
good  fpeaker  or  tolerable  writer  would  ufe  them  in  Great 
Britain.  I  give  another  example  when  the  ^cvSa  and  ana- 
logy of  the  word  fu ggefts  the  improvement.  Averfe  and 
averfion,  were  often  formerly  ufed  with  to  or  at :  he  is 
very  averfe  to  it ;  he  has  a  great  averfion  at  it.  Eut  as 
averfe  properly  fignifies  turned  away,  it  feems  an  evident 
improvement,  to  fay  averfe  from.  What  I  mean  by  diis 
obfcrvation,  is  to  turn  your  attention  to  fuch  remarks, 
when  you  meet  with  them  in  reading  or  converfation. 

I  will  make  an  obfervation  or  two  more.  It  is  of  Tome 
importance  to  attend  to  the  ufe  of  words,  nearly  related, 
or  in  fome  degree  fynonimous.  It  is  not  uncommon  to 
hear  people  fay  a  man  is  incident  to  fuch  or  fuch  a  thing — 


Eloquence.  39  j 

The  evil  is  incident  to  the  perfon — the  perfon  liable  to  the 
evil,  or  fubje6t  to  it :  this  may  be  feen  by  the  original 
meaning  of  the  word,  of  Latin  derivation,  and  fignifies  to 
fall  upon.  The  word  notify,  is  often  ufed  wrong,  parti- 
cularly in  America  :  they  I'peak  of  notifying  the  public  ; 
that  is  to  fay,  making  known  the  public — -Inftead  of  this, 
"Ive  ihould  fay  notify  any  thing,  (or  make  it  known)  to  the 
public.  You  advertife  a  perfon,  or  inform  him  of  a  thing — 
acquaint  him  with  it.  The  verb  consist,  in  Englifli,  has 
two  dillin^l  meanings,  and  two  conftru^lions  :  when  it 
fignifies  to  agree  or  correfpond,  it  is  joined  to  witb.  It 
confifts  witb  my  knowledge.  When  it  fignifies  to  com- 
pofe  or  make  up  a  total,  it  is  confl:ru6led  either  with  in  or 
oj^;  as  his  eftate  confifts  of,  or  in  houfes,  lands,  Sec.  TMs 
and  tbat,  and  tbese  and  tbose,  when  together  in  a  fen- 
tence,  are  ufed  with  diftin(5lion ;  tbis  and  tbese  for  the 
neareft,  and  tbat  and  tbose,  for  the  moft  remote  antece- 
dent; but  otherwife,  tbese  and  tbose  are  ufed  indifcri- 
minately,  but  tbose  more  frequently — as  tbose  autbors 
*Vi)bo  are  of  different  opinions. 

In  all  matters  doubtful,  you  ought  to  obferve  how  the 
current  of  good  authors  go.  So  far  as  I  have  been  able  to 
obferve,  collective  \n  ords  in  Englifli,  are  indifferently  con- 
llru6led  either  with  a  verb  fingular  or  plural  as  number, 
multitude,  part — a  great  number  were  prefent,  or  was  pre- 
fent,  though  I  fhould  prefer  the  laft. — 

As  to  orthography,  it  is  of  the  utmoft  rhoment,  not  but 
that  a  man  may  be  fuppofcd  to  fpeak,  though  he  cannot 
fpell;  but  becaufe  a  public  fpeaker  muft  be  always  in  fome 
degree,  converfant  in  public  life,  and  then  bad  fpelling  is 
exceedingly  reproachful.  It  is  not  only  necefiary  to  un- 
derftand  in  all  ordinary  cafes,  the  orthography  of  our  own 
language,  but  a  fcholar  and  critic,  1  think,  fliould  be  able 
to  obferve  the  variations  that  have  been  made  in  fpelling 
from  time  to  time.  Betv/een  thirty  and  forty  years  ago, 
an  attempt  was  made  to  alter  the  fpelling  of  the  Englifli 
language  very  confiderably,  by  bringing  it  nearer  to  the: 
way  of  pronouncing,  but  it  did  not  fucceed,  being  oppo- 
fed  by  fome  of  the  greateO:  eminence,  as  likely  to  deilroy 

Vol.  III.  c.  D 


■^•.94  Lcetiircs  on 

or  hide  the  etymoiogy  of  v/ords.  There  have  fome 
Imall  alterations  obtained  a  good  deal  in  my  remem- 
brance,  fuch  as  taking  away  the  final  k  in  public,  eccle- 
jiaflic,  &c.  There  is  alfo  jufl  now,  an  attempt  making  to 
change  the  fpelhng  of  feveral  words — I  have  feen  an  ex- 
ample of  it  in  a  very  late  edition  of  Middleton's  life  of 
Gicero ;  fuch  as  revele,  repete,  explane — honor,  favor, 
candor,  &c.  this  feems  upon  the  principle  of  bringing 
words  nearer  to  their  Latin  derivation. 

.  Pun<5luation  is  a  thing  that  a  fcholar  fhould  flrive  to 
underftand  a  little ;  though  there  are  few  gentlemen  or 
fcholars  who  ufe  it  much,  either  in  letters  or  in  their  com- 
pofition.  The  reafon  of  tiiis  is,  that  it  is  looked  upon  as  too 
formal,  and  unneceflary  to  ufe  it  in  writing  letters,  except 
a  full  Hop.  It  is  always  the  l^elt  language  that  has  lead 
needof  points  to  be  underfiood.  Points  are,  I  believe  a  mo- 
dern invention,  fubfequent  to  the  invention  of  printing;  vq- 
xy  ufeful  however,  in  teaching  young  perfons  to  read  with 
proper  paufes.  Another  reafon  why  points  are  little  ufed 
in  private  writing,  is,  that  fuch  papers  as  are  lent  to  the 
prefs,  (in  Britain)  do  not  need  them,  the  printers  them- 
lelves  underllanding  that  matter  at  leaf!  as  well,  if  not 
better  than  any  writer. 

4.  it  is  a  good  rule,  to  obferve  early  and  fludy  to  guard 
againd  fome  of  the  moft  remarkable  blemiflies  in  writing 
and  fpeaking,  which  are  fallen  into  by  defign  or  accident,, 
and  continued  by  habit.  It  is  not  difficult  for  any  per- 
fon,  as  foon  as  he  begins  to  obferve  and  refledl,  to  difcover 
thefe  in  others,  and  as  he  w^ill  perceive  the  abfurdity 
clearly  in  them,  let  him  be  very  careful  to  find  out  whe- 
ther there  is  not  fomething  of  the  fame  kind  in  himfelf. 
That  you  may  underftand  what  I  mean,  I  v^^ill  mention 
ibme  particulars. 

I.  Peculiar  phrases. — Such  as  have  nothing  in  them 
but  what  is  jufl  and  decent  and  proper,  when  ufed  once, 
or  now  and  then  ;  but  when  a  fpeaker  falls  fo  into  any  of 
them,  that  the  pradlice  is  known  for  his  own,  and  he  is 
known  by  it,  they  become  unfpeakably  ridiculous.  It  is 
very  difficult  to  avoid  fomething  oi  this  kind;  there  are 


■Eloquence.  395 

lew,  if  any,  but  in  common  clifcoiiiTe,  ufe  fome  phrafes 
•more  than  others.  A  cautious  perfon,  as  loon  as  he  per- 
ceives a  habit  of  ufing  any  one  coming  upon  him,  will  en- 
deavor to  alter  or  avoid  it.  Even  the  [Teatell  men  are 
not  wholly  free  from  this  defeat.  It  is  obferved  of  Cice- 
ro, that  esse  i^id'iatiir  occurs  in  almofl:  every  three  or  four 
fentences,  be  the  fubject  what  it  will.  I  knew  a  preacher 
that  uled  the  word  sedate^  {o  very  frequently,  that  he  was 
called  generally  where  he  was  kncv/n,  by  the  nam.e  of 
•the  sedate  preacher,  I  fliy  the  fame  thing  of  particular 
motions  and  geflures,  which  if  they  be  in  any  degree  out 
of  the  way,  are  a  great  blemifli  in  a  fpeaker  :  both  the  one 
and  the  other  of  thefe,  are  commonly  at  firjl,  taken  up  as 
graces,  and  retained  fo  long  in  that  view,  that  they  vacqu ire 
an  irrefiftible  power  from  habit. 

2.  Another  blemiPn  of  this  kind,  is  uung  improper  epi- 
thets. This  is  very  common  :  fovne,  ejpecially  young 
perfon s,  are  apt  to  think  a  difcourfe  lean  and  poor,  unleis 
there  be  a  great  number  of  epithets  ;  and  as  they  will  let 
no  fubilantive  go  without  an  adjeclive,  it  is  a  great  chance 
,that  fome  of  them  are  improper  :  they  cannot  fay  the  fliy, 
without  the  azure  iicy,  or  the  lofty  Iky,  or  the  wide  ex- 
panded ^\\y  ;  and  though  all  thefe  epithets  may  belong  to 
the  flcy,  they  may  not  be  equally  proper  in  the  place 
wliere  they  are  introduced.  A  certain  gentleman  of  no 
mean  rank  in  Great  Britain,  in  drawing  an  addrefs  from 
a  borough  to  his  majefty,  on  the  peace,  told  him,  that  the 
terror  of  his  arms  had  fpread  to  the  moft  diftant  parts  of 
the  terraqueous  globe  :  now,  though  it  be  certainly  true 
that  the  globe  is  terraqueous,  it  was  exceedingly  ridiculous 
to  tell  the  king  fo  ;  it  looked  as  if  his  majefty  were  a  boy, 
and  the  borough  magiilrates  were  teaching  him  ;  or  they 
themfelves  were  boys,  v/ho  had  juft  learned  the  iirfh  leffou 
in  geography,  that  the  globe  con  fills  of  land  and  water, 
and  therefore  were  defu'ous  of  letting  it  be  knqwn  that 
they  were  fo  far  advanced. 

3.  Another  vihble  blemifh  is  a  multitude  of  unnecelTary 
words  of  anyjdnd,  particularly  the  vain  repetition  of  fyno- 
nimous  phrafes.  Some  do  not  think  their  fentences  full 
.and  round  enough,  without  a  number  of  thefe  phrafes.  But 


296  Lectures  on 

though  it  be'true,  that  there  is  a  fullnefs  of  a  fentence  and 
the  claufes  of  a  fentence  which  is  necefTary  to  pleafe  the  ear, 
yet  it  is  but  an  ill  way  to  make  up  the  fliape  with  what  is  with- 
out fenfe  or  force.  The  moft  common  of  this  kind  are  the 
the  double  epithets  which  men  are  led  into  by  the  intro- 
duction of  words  derived  from  the  Latin  or  Greek  into 
the  Englifli  language.  Thefe  words  differing  in  found, 
are  often  coupled  together,  as  if  different  in  meaning 
alfo — As  happinefs  and  felicity, — fruition  and  enjoy- 
ment,-—greatnefs  and  magnificence, — eafe  and  facility, — 
way  and  manner, — end  and  conclufion,— -fmall  and 
minute, — bountiful  and  liberal,  &.c.  Sometimes  from 
your  lofty  fpeakers,  we  hear  a  whole  firing  pf  words,  of 
io  little  4i&^"^^ce  in  meaning,  that  it  is  almoft  im- 
poffible  to  perceive  it.  Thus  I  have  lately  heard.  "  This 
*''  grand,  capital,  important,  and  fundamental  truth." — • 
All  proper  epithets,  and  though  any  one  pf  them  would 
have  made  the  difcourfe  nervous,  as  well  as  ju{l,by  the  ad- 
dition of  them  all,  it  becomes  fwelled  and  filiy.* 


*'  List  of  double  Phrases  frequently  to  be  met  with. 

Speakers  and  writers.  Worth  and  value. 

Motives  and  arguments,  Lafting  and  abiding, 

Benefit  and  advantage,  Command  and  order. 

Small  and  minute.  Order  and  appoint, 

Bountiful  and  liberal,  Sin  and   Guilt, 

Right  and  title,  Cheerfulnefs  and  alacrity, 

Order  and  method,  Greatnefs  and  magnificence, 

Sharp  and  acute,  Joy  and  delight, 

Pain  and  anguifh.  Fruition  and  enjoyment, 

Moment  and  importance,  Jufl  and  righteous, 

Delight  and  fatisfadion,  End  and  defign, 

Joy  and  pleafure.  Open  and  explain, 

Profit  and  advantage,  Lafting  and  durable, 

Refolution  and  purpofe.,  Clear  and  manifeft, 

Juftice  and  equity,  Marks  and  figns. 

Truth  and  fmcerity,  Plain  and  perfpicuous. 

Wealth  and  riches,  Eafe  and  facility, 

iPenury  and  want,  End  and  conclufion, 


Eloquence.  397 

4.  Vulgarifms.  I  have  been  furprifed  to  fee  fome 
perfons  of  education  and  character,  introduce  the  mere 
vulgarifms  of  difcourfe  in  the  pulpit,  or  at  the  bar,  fuch 
as  I  an't  I  can't,  I  ihan't.  An  author  who  entitles  his 
book  Lexiphanes,  and  has  very  fuccefsfully  expofed  John- 
fon's  long  and  hard  words,  let  flip  a  vulgarifm  into  his 
own  difcourfe,  for  which  he  was  feverely  handled  by  the 
reviewers.  JBetween  you  and  I.  /there  is  a  governed 
cafe,  and  if  it  were  to  be  ufed,  it  fliould  be,  between  you 
^nd  me.  But  the  truth  is  the  phrafe  is  altogether  a  vul- 
garifm, and  therefore  not  to  be  ufed,  except  in  particular 
circumflances,  defcribing  familiar  chat.  There  are  alfo 
certain  cant  phrafes  which  come  into  repute  or  ufe  in 
the  courfe  and  the  changes  of  fafhion. 

Thefe  have  been  fufficiently  expofed  by  Swift  and 
Addifon,  and  therefore  I  fliall  fay  nothing  at  all  further 
on  them,  at  prefent,  as  an  opportunity  will  afterwards 
occur  of  mentioning  them  to  a^lvantage. 

5.  The  fifth  and  lall  general  rule  I  lliall  jud  mention 
is,  to  follow  nature.  This  is  a  rule  often  given 
and  greatly  infilled  on  by  the  ancients.     Every  body  has 


Odious  and  hateful,  A  final  iflue. 

Poor  and  indigent,  Motives  and  reafons, 

Order  and  regularity  Diminiflied  and  leflened, 

Rules  and  regulations,  Excellence  and  perfedion, 

Caufes  and  reafons.  Benevolence  and  goodwill, 

Ufeful  and  profitable,  Deinonfi:rate  and  prove, 

Amiable  and  lovely  Cover  and  conceal, 

Wife  and  prudent,  Foolifh  and  unwife. 

Terms  and  Phrases  to  he  noted  for  remarks. 

Happifying, — fufceptive, — fellow  country  man — fe- 
iicitos — to  be  found  in  the  monitor. 

"  Unfexed  thy  mind"  in  a  poem, 

"  Senfibilities,"  Aikin's  Magazine,  Ocl.vol.  i.  468 — 9. 

''  Thefe  commendations  will  not  I  am  perfuaded  make 
you  vain  and  coxeomical, 

Knickknackically,  fimplify,  domefticate,  pultpilicallv. 


.398  Lectures  on 

lieard  of  it,  nay,  Ibmetimes  thofe  who  have  not  heard  of 
it,  will  fpeak  as  if  they  had,  and  fay,  "  This  was  quite  na- 
tural. This  was  altogether  unnatural."  Eut  it  is  fome- 
what  diHicult  to  underfland.  Nature  feems  in  this  rule 
to  be  oppofed  to  art.  Is  following  nature,  then, -to  do  as  un- 
taught perfons  generally  do  ?  Will  the  moll  ignorant  per- 
fons  make  the  moft  plain  and  the  bed  connecied  dif- 
courfe  ?  Will  they  tell  a  ftory  with  the  mod  genuine 
fimplicity,  and  at  the  fame  time  perfpicuity  ?  We  find 
it  is  quite  otherwife.  Perhaps  it  would  be  beft  to  fay  it  is 
following  truth,  or  following  that  which  is  eafieit  ayd 
plained,  and  probably  would  be  followed  by  all,  but  for 
aiTedlation, 

On  this  fubjedl  I  can  think  cf  nothing  fo  good  as  to 
fay,  realize  and  fuppofe  you  faw  the  thing  you  would 
defcribe,  and  put  your  felf  in  the  very  date  of  him  vvhofe 
fentiments  you  would  fpeak.  Clear  conceptions  make 
didin6l  expreffions,  and  reality  is  a  great  alTidant  to  in- 
vention. If  you  were  bid  to  dudy  a  fubje6t  abdrad:ly, 
it  would  be  with  great  difficulty  that  things  proper  and 
fuitable  to  it  would  come  into  your  mind.  But  if  you, 
yourfelf  were  in  the  dtuation  that  is  to  be  fuppofed, 
the  fentiments  pertinent  to  it  would  croud  upon  you  im- 
mediately. Let  me  try  to  make  this  familiar  by  an  exr 
ample,  fuppofe  I  were  to  afk  any  of  you  jud  now,  what 
are  the  circumftances  that  aggravate  fin,  or  make  it  more 
heinous,  anddefervingof  fevcre  punilhment :  it  is  highly 
probable  he  would  either  be  at  a  iofs  altogether,  or  at  lead 
would  omit  many  of  them.  But  if  any  of  you  had  re- 
ceived an  injury  from  another,  in  explaining  of  it,  he 
would  not  fail  to  to  come  over  them  every  one.  He 
would  fay  it  was  unpi;ovoked. — If  he  had  done  him  fer- 
vice,  he  would  not  fail  to  upbraid  him  with  it,  and  no- 
thing would  be  forgotten  between  the  two,  that  could  ag- 
gravate the  crime. 

Suppofing  the  reality  of  every  thing,  alfo,  ferves  par- 
ticularly to  deliver  a  fpeaker  from  afFe6led  ornaments, 
and  every  thing  in  language  or  carriage  that  is  impro- 
per. If  you  were  pleading  the  caufe  of  one  accufed  of 
a  capital  crime,  it  would  be  bed  to  fuppofe  that  you  your- 


Eloquence »  3(75- 

!^]f  were  the  accufed  perfon,  and  that  you  were  fpeaking 
for  your  ov/n  life.  This  would  give  an  earneftnefs  of 
fpirit,  and  a  juftnefs  and  correc^nefs  to  the  manner,  infi- 
nitely dillant  from  that  theatrical  pomp,  which  is  fo 
properly  faid  to  be  a  departure  from  the  funplicity  of  na=' 
ture. 


LECTURE    IV. 

■  AVJNG  given  you  fome  preliminary  difcourfes  on 
fuch  points  as  I  thought  would  fcrve  to  prepare  you 
for  what  might  be  afterwards  faid,  I  proceed  to  treat  the 
fubjecl  more  methodically  and  more  fully.  There  are  va- 
rious ways  of  dividing  the  fubje6l,  which  yet  may  each 
of  them  be  faid  to  take  in  the  whole  in  one  way  or  other. 
Several  of  thefe  mull  be  combined  together,  as  it  is  not 
fufficient  to  view  a  building  only  from  one  Nation.  If 
you  would  underfland  it  thoroughly  you  mud  view  it 
from  different  llations,  and  even  take  it  in  profile,  and 
learn  not  only  its  outward  appearance,  but  its  inward 
ftru<5ture.  The  method  I  have  refolved  to  follow,  and 
which  feems  to  me  as  complete  as  any  I  could  fall  upon, 
is  this — 

I.  To  treat  of  language  in  general,  its  qualities,  and 
powers — eloquent  fpeech — and  its  hillory  and  pra^^liice 
as  an  art. 

II.  To  confider  oratory  as  divided  into  its  three  great 
kinds,  the  fublime— fimple— and  mixed, — their  charac- 
ters— their  difi:in6lions — their  beauties — and  their  ufesv 

III.  To  confider  it  as  divided  into  its  conilituent  pans,. 
invention,  difpofition,  llile,  pronunciation  and  geilure. 

IV.  To  confider  it  as  its  object  is  different  informa- 
tion, demonfiration,  perfuafion,  entertainment. 

V.  As  its  fubjed  is  different.  The  pulpit,  the  bar, 
and  the  fenate,  or  any  deliberative  affembly. 

VI.  To  confider  the  llrudure  and  parts  of  a  particular 
difcourfe,  th&ir  order,  connexion,  proportion  and  ends. 


400  Lectures  on 

VII.  Recapitulation  and  inquiry  into  the  principles  of 
tafte,  or  of  beauty  and  gracefulnefs,  as  applicable  not  only 
to  oratory,  but  to  all  the  other  (commonly  called)  the  fine 
arts. 

In  the  firft  plax:e  then,  I  am  to  treat  of  language  in  ge- 
neral, its  qualities  and  powers — eloquent  fpeech — and  its 
hiftory  and  practice  as  an  art. 

Language  is  what  in  a  great  meafure  diflinguiflies 
man  from  the  inferior  creatures.  Not  but  that  almoft 
all  animals  have  certain  founds  by  which  they  can  com- 
municate fomething  to  one  another.  But  thefe  founds  are 
evidently  only  fimple,  and  fometimes  fmgle  exertions, 
differing  in  one  creature  from  another,  according  to  the 
different  conformation  of  their  organs.  Articulate  fpeech, 
has  a  far  greater  compafs,  and  is  able  to  exprefs 
not  only  a  vail  multitude  of  complex,  as  well  as  fmiple 
ideas  ;  perhaps  we  may  even  fay  that  articulate  fpeech  is 
little  lefs  extenfive  than  thought  itfelf,  there  being  hardly 
any  idea  that  can  be  formed  but  it  may  be  expreffed,  and 
by  that  means  communicated.  In  this  there  is  a  wide 
and  manifeft  diflinclion  between  the  rational  and  irra- 
tional creatures. 

Articulate  language  is  intended  to  communicate  our 
fentiments  one  to  another.  This  may  be  confidered  as 
fully  explained,  by  faying  it  includes  information  and 
perfuafion.  A  conception  in  my  mind,  when  fpoken,  its 
excellence  confifts  in  making  another  perceive  what  I 
perceive,  and  feel  towards  it  as  1  feel.  They  may  be 
afterwards  amplified  and  extended  ;  but  thefe  two  particu- 
lars fhew  the  true  original  purpofe  of  fpeech.  Eloquence  is 
commonly  called  the  art  of  perfuafion,  but  the  other  mufi 
be  taken  in.  We  mufi  inform  before  v/e  can  perfuade, 
or  if  there  be  any  fuch  thing  as  perfiiafion  without  infor- 
mation, it  is  only  a  blind  impulfe. 

Articulate  fpeech  is  reprefenting  our  ideas  by  arbitrary 
founds.  That  is  to  fay,  there  is  no  real  or  natural  con- 
nexion between  the  found  and  fignification  but  what  is  the 
effeft  of  compa^l  and  ufe.  In  this  articulate  fpeech  is 
difiinguilhed  from  iigns  or  natural  founds,  as  alphabetical 
writing  (of  which  more  afterwards)  is  difiinguilhed  from 


Eloquence,  401 

hieroglyphical.  Natural  founds  may  fignify  joy,  fear,  anger, 
•but  language  in  general  has  no  fuch  natural  connection 
with  its  meaning.  The  words  fun  and  moon  might 
have  had  different  meanings,  and  ferved  the  fame  pur- 
pofe.  The  word  beith  in  Hebrew,  o<xoj  in  Greek, 
domus  in  Latin,  maison  in  French,  and  bouse  in  Englifli, 
though  all  of  them  different,  are  equally  proper  for  fig- 
nifylng  the  fame  thing,  when  once  they  are  fixed  by  the 
cullom  of  the  feveral  nations.  Some  have  attempted  to 
reduce  the  original  words  of  a  fuppofed  original  language, 
and  even  the  letters  of  the  alphabet,  to  a  natural  refem- 
blance  of  the  things  to  be  fignified  ;  but  their  attempts 
have  been  fruitlefs  and  ridiculous.  It  was  in  ancient  times 
a  pretty  general  imagination  that  there  was  a  certain  lan- 
guage that  was  original  and  natural  to  man  ;  that  this 
was  the  firft  language  in  ufe ;  and  that  if  men  were  not 
taught  another  language  by  example,  they  would  all  fpeak 
this  language.  But  experience,  after  trial  had  been  made 
by  feveral  curious  perfons,  fhov/ed  this  imagination  to  be 
vain  ;  for  thofe  who  were  brought  up  without  any  com- 
munication with  men,  were  always  dumb,  and  fpoke 
none  at  all,  except  fometimes  imitating  the  natural  founds 
of  fome  beafls  or  birds  which  they  might  occafionally 
hear.  Herodotus's  (lory  is  either  a  fable,  or  it  proves  no- 
thing, of  a  king  of  Egypt  having  two  children  nourifhed 
by  goats,  and  pronouncing  the  word  Bee,  or  Beeros, 
which  they  faid  fignified  bread  in  the  Phrygian  language. 
This  was  a  thing  merely  accidental,  if  true ;  yet  at  any 
rate  of  very  doubtful  authority. 

The  words  in  articulate  fpeech  therefore  are  arbitrary, 
nor  is  there  any  poifibility  of  their  being  othervvife  ;  for 
words  are  only  founds,  and  though  it  is  poflible  in  fome 
few  particulars  to  fix  upon  words  with  a  natural  relation, 
as  for  example,  perhaps  the  names  of  animals  might  fome- 
times be  given  them,  with  fome  refemblance  of  found  to 
the  natural  founds  which  thefe  animals  utter,  yet  even 
this  with  difadvantages,  as  any  body  may  perceive,  by  try- 
ing to  make  a  word  that  fliall  refemble  the  neighing  of 
a  horfe,  the  lowing  of  a  bull,  &c.  But  as  to  all  inani- 
mate  vifible  objecl?j  it  is  impoirible  to  rcprefent  them 

Vol.  III.  3  E 


402  Lectures  on 

by  found  ;  light  and  found,  the  eye  and  the  ear,  being  to- 
tally different  in  kind.  I  can  recolle6l  nothing  that  makes 
any  difficulty  in  this  matter,  unlefs  that  fome  may  fay, 
how  then  do  you  find  place  for  that  particular  beauty  of 
poetry  and  other  defcriptions  in  making  the  found  an  echo 
to  the  fenfe  ?  But  this  is  eafily  refolved.  In  fome  cafes 
the  paiTions  give  a  modulation  to  found,  and  in  the  quan- 
tity of  the  fyllables,  and  eafe  or  difficulty  of  pronounc- 
ing them,  there  may  be  a  refemblance  to  flown efs  and 
labor,  or  their  oppofites  or  both.  As  in  the  famous  pafTage 
of  Homer  To>j  /x8>9  Tlacrloov, ;  or  in  Mr.  Pope,  who  exempli- 
fies the  rule  in  giving  it. 

''  'Tis  not  enough,  no  harfhnefs  gives  offence,"  &c. 
if  words  are   arbitrary  it  may  be  afl^ed  how  language 
came  firfl  into  ufe  ?  in  which  the  opinions  are  various, 
but  the  controverfy  is  not  of  any  great  moment.     Some 
think  it  was   in   the  fame  way  as  other  creatures   exert 
their  natural  powers,    that  man  by    praftice,  gradually 
came  to  the    ufe   of  fpeech,  and  fettled  the    meaning  of 
words  by  cuflom.     Others  think  that   this  would  either 
never  have  happened  or  have  taken  a  very  long  time,  and 
fuppofe  that  their  Maker  taugiit  them  at  leafl  fome  de- 
gree of  practice,  which  fhould  open  the  w^ay  to  a  more 
extenfive  uk  of  the  faculty.     And  the  confideration  that 
founds  in  language  are   arbitrary  in  fome  degree  favors 
this  fuppofition,  becaufe  it  may  be  obferved  that  as  man- 
kind are  capable  by  inftrudlion  of  the  greateft   and  mofl 
niultifariQus   improvement,  {o  without  inilru6lion  they 
are  capable  of  doing  leafl.     A  human  infant  when  firfl 
brought  forth  is  more  helplefs  and  longer  helplefs   than 
anv  other  animal  that  v/e  know.    It  does  not  feem  to  be"of 
much  importance  to  form  a  determinate  opinion  of  this 
queflion.     It  occurs  in  the   very  fame  way  again,  and 
may  be  reafoned  upon  the  fame  principles,  whether  al- 
phabetical writing  was  an    invention    and  difcovery  of 
man  or  revealed  hy  God.     Thofe  who  hold  the  lafl  opi- 
nion obferve  that  hieroglyphic  writing,  or  writing  by  figns 
or  pictures  was  before  alphabetical,  and  that  the  improve- 
ment of  hieroglyphics  does  not  lead  to,  but  from  alpha- 
betical writing.     That  the  one  confifls  of  natural  em- 


Eloquence,  403 

blems,  and  vifible  figns  of  fentimetits,  and  the  other  of 
arbitrary  or  artificial  figns  for  fimple  founds,  fo  that  the 
more  complex  you  make  the  hieroglyphic,  you  differ  the 
m.ore  from  the  alphabet.  It  feems  probable  that  this,  and 
indeed  the  radical  principles  of  all  great  difcoveries  were^ 
brought  out  by  accident,  that  is  to  fay,  by  Providence  : 
therefore  it  is  probable  that  God  gave  to  our  firil  parents 
who  were  found  in  a  Itate  of  full  growth,  all  the  inilr no- 
tion neceifary  for  proceeding  upon,  and  exercifmg  the 
faculty  of  fpeech,  the  length  that  was  neceffary  for  the 
purpofes  of  human  life.  It  is  alfo  probable  frorti  the 
analogy  of  Providence,  that  he  left  as  much  to  the  exer- 
cife  of  the  human  powers  as  experience  and  application, 
could  conveniently  fupply. 

•    I  will  not  enter  much  into  the  formation  and  conftruc^ 
tion  of  language  in  general.     It  is  formed  by  a  certain 
number  of  fimple  founds  which  when  varioufl^^  combined,^ 
produce  that    variety  of  words  which  though  certainly 
not  ftri6lly  infinite,    yet  have  been  hitherto  inexhaufted 
by  all  the  languages  in  the  world.     The  letters  are  divid- 
ed int-o  vowels  and  confonants,  the  firlt  having  a  found  of 
themfelves,   and  the  other  giving  only  a  fort  of  modifi- 
cation to  that  found.     Some  great  philologifts  are  of  opi- 
nion that  in  the  Hebrew  and    feveral   other  ancient  lan- 
guages,  their  whole   letters  are  confonants,  tending  to 
mark  the  different  configurations   of  the  organs  of  found 
at  the  beginning  of  pronunciation,  and  the  vowels  are  the 
founds  themfelves,   which   they  fay  men  were  taught  X.^. 
adopt  by  habit,  firfl  in  fpeaking,  and  then    in   writing, 
and  afterwards  were  diflinguilhed  by   ma?'ks  or  figns  for 
the  fake  of  readers.     Hence  the  controverfy  about  the 
Hebrew  points,  and  indeed  reading  the  dead  languages, 
in  general,  which  is  attended  with  great  uncertainty,  par- 
ticularly   from    the    following    circumflances.     Vowels, 
have  in  general  been  but   five  or  fix  in    number,  which 
fhould  exprefs    all   the    fimple    founds     and   yet    they 
do  not,  and  perhaps  there   is  not  a  language   in  which 
there  is  greater  confufion  in  this  matter,  than  our  own, 
which  makes  the  Engliih  fo  exceedingly  difficult'  for  a 
foreigner  to  attain.     Several  Englifh  vowels  have  three 


404  Lectures  on 

or  four  different  founds,  and  as  Sheridan  fays,  fome  of 
them  the  length  of  five  ;   /has  three  in  one  word,  viz.  in- 
finite,     Thefe  things  not  being  necelTary  to  my  main 
purpofe,  I  only  point  at  them  without  enlarging. 

It  is  plain  that  in  whatever  manner  languages  w^ere 
firfl  formed,  we  can  eafily  fee  that  they  came  llowly  and 
by  degrees  to  perfe6tion.  An  eminent  French  author^ 
father  Lamis,  fays  the  Hebrew  language  was  per- 
fect in  its  original ;  but  he  advances  no  proof  of 
this,  but  fliowing  indeed  by  very  juft  hiflorical  re- 
marks and  criticifms,  that  the  Hebrew  was  anterior  in 
point  of  time  to  the  Greek,  and  that  in  writing  the  let- 
ters were  taken  from  the  Hebrew  and  employed  in  the 
Greek.  Hiilory  fays  that  Cadmus  was  a  Phenician,  and 
he  has  generally  among  the  Greeks  the  honor  of  intro- 
ducing letters.  It  is  alfo  obferved  that  as  the  letters 
of  the  alphabet  were  ufed  in  expreifmg  numbers,  the 
Greeks  after  they  had  in  procefs  of  time  altered  or  left 
out  the  letter  vau  in  Hebrew  which  Hands  fixth  in  order, 
they  put  a  new  mark  s  for  fix,  that  the  reft  might  retain 
their  powers  which  plainly  Ihewsthat  the  Hebrew  alpha- 
bet was  older  than  the  Greek,  as  it  now  ftands. 

But  for  my  part,  I  do  not  underiland  the  meaning 
of  faying  that  the  Hebrew  lai^guage  was  perfe6t  at  firfl ; 
it  might  be  fitted  for  all  the  purpofes  of  them  that  ufed  it 
firfl,  and  is  probably  at  this  day  as  good  as  any  other 
language,  fo  far  as  it  goes,  but  it  is  plain  that  this  and 
all  the  other  languages  of  the  firll  ages  were  narrow,  fliort 
and  fimple.  They  mull  have  been  fo  from  the  nature 
of  the  thing,  mofl:  probably  they  confifted  chiefly  of  mo- 
nofyllables  reprefenting  fimple  ideas.  What  occafion 
had  they  for  complex  or  compound  words,  when  they 
had  few  if  any  complex  or  compounded  ideas  ?  This  ap- 
pears very  plainly  from  the  ftate  of  the  Hebrew  language, 
fome  of  the  other  orientals  and  the  language  of  all  un- 
cultivated people.  It  holds  like  wife  in  the  cafe  of  the 
Chinefe  language,  which  though  the  people  are  not  un- 
cultivated properly  fpeaking,  is  yet  in  an  unimproved 
flate  from  their  having  had  little  intercourfe  with  other 
.nations.     All   fuch  languages  have  few  adjedives,  and 


Eloquence,  405 

when  they  do  ufe  words  as  adje(5llves,  they  are  common- 
ly figurative.  There  is  an  ingenious  and  probable  de- 
dudion  how  a  fcanty  narrow  language  might  be  firft  ufed 
in  Shurkford's  connexions.  They  might  exprefs  quali- 
ties by  the  name  of  fome  animal  remarkable  for  them — 
as  a  lion-man,  for  a  valiant  or  fierce  man.  This  is 
wholly  agreeable  to  the  genius  of  the  Hebrew  language. 
The  Hebrews  defcribe  every  thing  that  is  very  great,  by 
adding  the  name  of  God  to  it,  as  the  trees  of  God — the 
river  of  God.  It  follows  that  in  all  uncultivated  langua- 
ges the  figures  are  frequent  and  very  fi:rong.  The  Indi- 
ans in  America  have  a  language  full  of  metaphors.  They 
take  up  the  hatchet,  for  going  to  war,  and  they  brighten 
the  chain,  when  diey  confirm  a  peace. 

Hence  it  appears  that  in  the  earlieft  times,  if  they 
ufed  figures,  it  was  the  eflfe^l  of  necelfity  rather  than 
choice.  But  Avh?tt  men  did  at  firft  out  of  neceflity,  ora- 
tors afterwards  returned  to  from  choice,  in  order  to  in- 
creafe  the  beauty  or  force  of  their  di<Slion,  or  both.  la 
faft  figures  do  make  the  greatefl:  impreflion  on  men's 
minds*  They  are  fenfible,  and  therefore  level  to  every 
perfon's  capacity  :  for  the  fame  reafon  they  make  a  fi;rong 
imprefllon  on  the  imagination.  They  likewife  leave  a 
great  deal  of  room  for  the  creative  power  of  fancy  to 
make  additions.  A  fign  or  fymbol  feen  by  a  multitude, 
on  a  fubje6t  that  is  underftood,  carries  the  contagion  of 
enthufiafm  or  rage  exceedingly  far.  In  the  19th  of 
Judges  you  fee  the  Levite  took  his  concubine  and  cut 
her  into  twelve  parts,  and  fent  them  to  all  the  tribes  of 
Ifrael.  The  Roman  alfo  holding  up  the  fi:ump  of  his 
hand  which  he  had  ioil  in  the  fervice  of  the  public,  plead- 
ed for  his  brother  with  a  poiver  vaflly  fuperior  to  any  lan- 
guage whatever. 


4o6  Lectures  en 


LECTURE     V. 

AVING  given  you  a  Ihort  view  of  language  in  ge- 
neral, if  it  were  not  too  long,  I  would  confider  the 
ilructure  of  particular  languages  ;  inltead  of  which,  take 
the  few  following  fhort  remarks. 

-  I.  The  nature  of  things  neceflarily  fuggefls  many  of 
the  ways  of  fpeaking  which  conflitute  the  grammar  of  a 
language,  and  in  every  language  there  is  nearly  the  fame 
number  of  parts  of  fpeech,  as  they  are  enumerated  in  the 
Latin  grammar  ;  noun,  pronoun,  verb,  participle,  adverb, 
prepofition,  interjeQion,  conjunction. 

2.  In  the  ufe  of  thefe,  there  is  a  very  great  variety. 
Nouns  to  be  fure,  are  declined  nearly  the  fame  way  in  all 
by  cafes  and  numbers,  though  the  Grceks  in  this  differ  a 
little,  ufing  three  numbers  inffead  of  two,  having  a  parti- 
cular inflexion  of  the  v/ord,  when  there  are  but  two  per- 
fons  meant ;  and  another  for  the  plural  or  more  :  but  in 
the  verbs,  there  is  a  very  great  diverfity  ;  in  the  a6tive  and 
pafllve  fignificat'ion  they  generally  agree,  but  fome  ex- 
prefs  the  pcrfons  by  terminations,  and  fome  by  pronouns 
and  nominatives  expreffed.  Some  have  modes  which 
others  have  not.  Tiie  Greeks  have  an  optative  mood ; 
the  Latins  have  gerunds  ;  the  Hebrews  with  fewer  differ- 
ences of  moods,  have  conjugations  that  carry  fome  variety 
of  fignilication  to  the  fame  word.  In  one  word  maser^ 
He  delivered,  there  is  not  only  this  and  its  paffive,  but  ano- 
ther, he  delivered  diligently,  and  the  paflive  ;  another,  he 
made  .to  deliver;  another,  he  delivered  himfelf.  The 
Greeks,  befides  the  active  and  paffive,  have  a  media  vox^ 
of  which  perhaps  the  ui^e  is  not  now  fully  underftood  ; 
fmce  fome  of  the  beft  grammarians  fay  it  fignifies  doing  a 
thins?  to  one's  felf :  TvTraoi^rxll  fhall  ftrike  myfelf.  Molt  of 
the  modern  languages  decline  their  verbs,  not  by  inflec- 
tion of  the  termination,  as  the  Greek  and  Latin,  but  by 
auxiliary  verbs,  as  the  Englifh  and  French.  TheCiiinefe 
language  is  perhaps  the  leaft  improved  of  any  language, 


Eloqmnce.  407 

that  has  fubfifted  for  any  time  ;  this  probably  is  owing  to 
their  want  of  alphabetical  writing  :  every  word  among 
them  had  a  charadler  peculiar  to  it,  fo  that  letters  and 
words  were  the  fame  in  number  in  their  language ;  this 
rendered  it  of  immenfe  difficuUy  to  underftand  their  wri- 
ting among  themfelves,  and  quite  impofTible  to  foreigners : 
but  tliey  were  vallly  furprifed  to  find,  that  the  Jefuits  from 
Europe,  that  came  among  them,  could  eafily  write  their 
languap;e  by  our  alphabet :  and  as  they  ufe  the  fame  word 
in  different  tones,  for  different  meanings,  thefe  fathers  alfo 
foon  found  a  way  of  diftinguiiliing  thefe  in  writing,  by 
certain  marks  and  accents  placed  over  the  word  difiering, 
as  it  was  to  be  differently  taken. 

3.  Some  have  amufed  themfelves,  with  inventing  a  lan- 
guage, with  fuch  a  regular  grammar  as  might  be  eafily  un- 
derilood,  and  having  this  language  brought  into  general  ufe. 
We  have  a  remark  of  this  kind,  in  Father  Lami's  rheto- 
rique,  in  French,  and  he  fays  the  grammar  of  the  Tartar 
language  comes  neareft  to  it.  We  have  alfo  had  fome 
fchemes  and  proportions  of  this  kind  inEnglifli,  but  it  feems 
wholly  chimerical.  I  fliall  only  obferve  further,  that  fome 
few  have  imagined,  that  the  Hebrew  language  itfelf  was  ori- 
ginally, and  when  compleat,  a  perfe£l  language,  and  that 
we  now  have  it  only  maimed,  and  but  a  fmall  part  of  it. 
Thefe  fuppofe  the  language  to  be  generated  thus,  by  tak- 
ing the  letters  of  the  alphabet,  and  firft  going  through  them 
regularly  by  two,  and  then  by  three,  ah^  ag,  ad,  &c.  aba, 
abb^  &:c.  All  thefe  fchemes  are  idle,  beeaufe  no  perfon 
can  pollibly  lay  down  rules  beforehand,  for  every  thing 
that  may  hereafter  be  thought  and  fpoken,  and  therefore, 
when  they  are  brought  out  they  will  be  expreifed  as  thofe 
to  whom  they  firfl  occur  fhall  incline,  and  cuftom  will 
finally  fix  them,  and  give  them  their  authority. 

Leaving  thefe  things  therefore,  as  matters  of  more 
curiofity  than  ufe,  I  proceed  to  fpeak  of  eloquent  fpeech, 
and  its  hiflory  as  an  art.  It  is  plain,  that  in  the  progrefs  of 
fociety  and  the  commerce  of  human  life,  it  v/ould  foon 
appear  that  fome  fpoke  with  more  grace  and  beauty,  and 
fo  as  more  to  incline  the  hearers  to  their  fentiments,  than 
others ;  neither  is  it  hard  to  perceive  that  it  would  be  early 


4o8  Lectures  on 

in  repute.  Tn  the  firfl  affociations  of  mankind,  they 
muii:  have  been  chiefly  governed  by  thofe  who  had  the 
power  of  perfuafion.  In  uncultivated  focieties,  it  is  fo 
11111  :  In  an  Indian  tribe,  the  fachem  of  wife  man  directs 
their  councils.  The  progrefs  of  oratory  towards  perfec- 
tion, mull  have  been  evidently  in  fa6t,  like  the  progrefs 
of  all  other  human  arts,  gradual,  and  in  proportion  to 
the  encouragement  given  to  its  exercife.  It  prevailed, 
where  the  ftate  of  things  and  conftitution  of  government 
favored  it,  but  not  otherwife. 

It  is  to  be  obferved  here,  that  by  the  confent  of  all,  and 
by  the  memorials  of  antiquity  that  are  left,  poetry  was 
more  ancient  than  oratory ;  or  perhaps  we  may  rather 
fay,  that  the  firil  exertions  of  genius  in  eloquent  expreflion 
were  in  poetry,  not  in  profe.  It  has  frequently  been  made 
matter  of  critical  inquiry,  why  poetry  was  prior  to  ora- 
tory, and  why  Iboner  brought  to  perfection.  I  do  not 
perceive  very  clearly,  what  great  advantage  there  is  in  de- 
termining this  queftion,  fuppofing  we  fhould  hit  upon  the 
true  reafons  :  one  reafon  I  take  to  be,  that  the  cir.cum- 
france  in  poetry  that  gives  generally  the  higheft  pleafure, 
viz.  a  ilrong  and  vigorous  fancy,  is  leaft  indebted  to  appli- 
cation, inilrudllon  or  time  for  its  perfe6lion  :  therefore 
poetical  produdlior.s  in  general,  and  that  fpecies  of  them 
in  particular  which  have  moil  of  that  quality,  mufl  be  as 
eafily  produced  in  uncultivated  times,  as  any  other  ;  and 
for  fome  reafons  given  in  a  former  difcourfe,  mufl  appear 
then  with  the  grcateO:  effedl.  Whereas,  to  fuccefs  in 
oratory,  fome  knowledge  of  the  human  heart,  and  even 
fome  experience  in  the  ways  of  men,  is  necelFary.  Ano- 
ther difference  is  plain  ;  poetical  productions  having  ge- 
nerally pleafure  or  immediate  entertainment  as  their  de- 
fign,  may  produce  that  effe(!t  in  any  age  ;  whereas  the 
circumllances  that  rendered  the  orator's  difcourfe  inter- 
eding,  are  all  gone. 

Perhaps  to  this  we  may  add,  that  the  incitements  to 
]}oetry  are  more  general.  A  poet  pleafes  and  obtains 
fame  from  every  fingle  perfon  who  reads  or  hears  his  pro- 
dudions;  but  an  uffembly,  bulinefs,  and  an  occafion  are  ne- 
celFary to  the  orator.     This  lail  is  likewife  limited  in  point 


Eloquence.  46^ 

of  place  and  fituation.  Oratory  could  not  thrive  in  a  ftate 
where  arbitrary  power  prevails,  becaufe  then  there 
is  nothing  left  for  large  aflemblies  and  a  diflrufive  public 
to  determine  ;  whereas  poetry  is  pleafmg  to  perfons  un» 
der  any  form  of  government  whatever. 

Thofe  who  have  given  the  hiftory  of  oratory  have 
rather  given  us  the  hiflory  of  the  teachers  of  that  art  than 
its  progrefs  and  effedis.  It  mull  be  obferved,  however, 
that  in  this  as  well  as  in  poetry,  criticifm  is  the  child  and 
not  the  father  of  genius.  It  is  the  fruit  of  experience 
and  judgment  by  refledion  upon  the  fpontaneous  pro- 
du6lions  of  genius.  Criticifm  inquires  what  was  the 
caufe  of  things  being  agreeable  after  the  efFedt  has 
been  feen.  Ward  brings  a  citation  from  Cicero  to  fhovv 
that  the  orator's  art  was  older  than  the  Trojan  war.  The 
purport  of  this  is  that  Homer  attributes  force  to  Ulyfes' 
fpeeches,  and  fweetnefs  to  Neftor's  ;  perhaps  alfo  he  has 
chara6lerifed  Menelaus'  manner  as  fimple,  fhort  and 
unadorned.  There  is  not,  however,  any  certainty  in  this 
art  being  much  ftudied  or  explained  in  thefe  early  times 
from  this  citation ;  for  though  Homer  is  an  excellent  poet, 
of  inimitable  fire  and  great  ftrength  of  natural  judgment, 
it  is  not  certain  that  he  kept  fo  perfectly  to  propriety  as  to 
defcribe  only  the  manner  and  llyle  of  things  at  the  time 
of  the  Trojan  war,  .which  was  250  years  before  his  own. 
I  ftiould  be  more  apt  to  conclude  that  he  had  defcribed 
manners,  charaders  and  fpeakers  as  they  were  in  his  owit 
time,  with  a  little  air  of  antiquity. 

We  are,  however,  told  by  Paufanius,  that  the  firfl  fchool 
of  oratory  in  Greece  was  opened  in  the  fchool  of  Thefeus, 
the  age  preceding  that  war.  If  there  be  any  certainty  in 
this,  its  being  taught  in  Greece  has  b(s^en  very  ancient 
indeed  ;  but  thefe  being  fabulous  times,  it  is  fcarcely  to 
be  depended  upon.  However,  it  is  certain  that  oratory 
flourilhed  early,  and  was  improved  greatly  in  Greece* 
Many  circumllances  concurred  to  produce  this  effedl. 
The  fpirit  and  capacity  of  the  people — the  early  intro- 
dudlion  of  letters — but  chiefly  their  political  fitua- 
tion— the  freedom  of  their  Hates — the  frequency  of  pub-^ 
lie  affemblies — and  the  importance  of    their  decifions 

Vol.  III.  3  F 


410  Lettures  on 

There  is  much  faid  of  the  fpirit  and  capacity  of  tlie 
Greeks  for  all  the  arts,  and  to  be  fure  their  climate  fo 
ferene  and  temperate  might  have  all  the  effect  that  a  cli- 
mate can  have  ;  but  I  reckon  the  two  other  caufes  much 
more  confiderable.  The  introduction  of  letters  is  neceffary 
to  the  improvement  and  perfeftion  of  a  language,  and  as 
they  were  early  blefTed  with  that  advantage,  the}^  had  the 
beft  opportunity  of  improving.  How^ever,  the  lafl:  caufe 
of  all  is  much  more  powerful  than  both  the  former,  though 
perhaps  literature  is  neceffary  to  be  joined  with  it  to  pro- 
duce any  great  effedl.  As  to  fome  of  the  other  arts, 
particularly  painting  and  llatuary,  an  eminent  modern 
critic  fays,  the  Greeks  could  not  but  excel,  becaufe  they, 
of  all  others,  had  the  beii;  images  from  nature  to  copy. 
He  fays  that  the  games  inGreece,  in  which  the  belt  formed 
bodies  for  agility  and  firength  in  the  whole  country  were 
feen  naked,  and  llriving  and  exerting  themfelves  to  the 
very  utmoll,  mud  have  prefented  to  perfons  of  genius 
originals  to  draw  from,  fuch  as  in  moil  other  nations  never 
are  to  be  feen.  If  this  remark  is  jufl:  in  the  other  arts, 
the  inikience  of  eloquence  in  the  public  alTemblies  of  thefe 
free  Hates  mull  have  had  a  limilar  effect  in  the  art  of 
fpeaking. 

The  art  of  fpeaking  in  Greece,  however,  does  not  feem 
to  have  rifen  high  till  the  time  of  Pericles,  and  he  is  faid 
to  have  been  fo  powerful  an  orator  that  he  kept  up  his  in- 
fluence in  the  city  as  much  by  his  eloquence  as  tyrants 
did  by  their  power.  There  is  a  pafiage  of  Cicero,  which 
feems  to  fay  that  he  was  the  firil  who  prepared  his  dif- 
courfes  in  writing,  and  fome  have  been  fimple  enough 
to  believe  that  he  read  them  ;  but  nothing  can  be  a  more 
manifeft  miftake,  becaufe  action  or  pronunciation  was 
by  all  the  ancients  confidered  as  the  great  point  in  ora- 
tory. There  were  to  be  feen  in  Cicero  and  Quintilian's 
times  orations  faid  to  be  of  Pericles ;  but  both  thefe  great 
orators  feem  to  be  of  opinion  that  they  were  not  his,  be- 
caufe ihey  did  not  at  all  feem  to  come  up  to  the  great  fame 
of  his  eloquence.  Mr.  Bayle,  a  very  eminent  critic, 
fays  juftly  that  thefe  great  men  might  be  miflaken  in 
that  particular ;  for  a  very  indifferent  compofition  may 


Eloquence,  ^  411 

be  the  work  of  a  very  great  orator.  The  grace  of  elo- 
cution and  the  power  of  a6\ion  might  not  only  acquire  a 
man  fame  in  fpeaking,  but  keep  up  his  influence  in  pub- 
lic affemblies.  Of  this  we  have  two  very  great  Britifh 
examples,  Mr.  Whitefield  in  the  pulpit,  and  Mr.  Pitt 
in  the  fenate. 

After  Pericles  there  were  many  great  orators  in  Greece, 
and  indeed  all  their  ftatefmen  were  orators  till  the  time 
of  Demofthenes,  when  the  Grecian  eloquence  feems  to 
have  attained  its  perfection.  The  praifes  of  this  great 
fpeaker  are  to  be  fo  generally  met  with  that  I  fliall  not 
infilt  upon  them  at  all,  further  than  reminding  you, 
it  liat  though  no  doubt  eminently  qualified  by  nature,  he 
needed  and  received  great  improvement  from  art. 

The  Roman  eloquence  w^as  of  much  fliorter  duration. 
It  is  true  that  the  Roman  flate  being  free,  and  the  af- 
femblies of  the  people  having  much  in  their  power,  it 
feems,  according  to  the  principles  we  have  gone  upon, 
that  public  fpeaking  mufl:  have  been  in  eileem  ;  but  there 
is  fomething  peculiar.  The  Romans  were  for  many  ages 
a  plain,  rough,  unpolifhed  people.  Valor  in  war  was  their 
idol,  and  therefore  though  to  be  fure  from  the  earlieft  times 
the  affemblies  mull  have  been  managed  in  their  delibera- 
tions by  their  fpeakers,  yet  they  were  concife  and  una- 
dorned, and  probably  confilled  more  of  telling  them  th^ip 
ftory,  and  ihowing  their  wounds,  which  was  of  frequent 
practice  among  them,  than  any  artful  or  i)affionate  ha- 
rangues. The  firft  fpeakers  of  any  eminence  we 
read  of  in  the  Roman  hillory,  were  the  Gracchi.  Cicera 
I  believe  makes  little  mention  even  of  them.  Anthony 
and  Craffus  were  the  firft  celebrated  orators  among  the 
Romans,  and  they  were  but  in  the  age  immediately  be- 
fore Cicero  himfelf,  and  from  his  time  it  rather  fell  into 
'decay. 

I  have  faid  above  that  genius  and  excellence  was  before 
criticifm.  This  is  very  plain;  for  though  we  read  of  fchools 
and  rhetoricians  at  different  times  and  places,  thefe  are 
confidered  by  the  great  mailers  as  perfons  quite  contemp- 
tible. Of  this  kind  there  is  a  remarkable  paffage  in  Cir 
cero  in  his  j&n/mj.     At  hunc  (fpeaking  of  Pericles)  non 


4^Z 


Lectures  on 


declamator  Sec.  The  firfl  juft  and  truly  eminent  critic  in 
Greece  was  Ariftotle,  who  flouriflied  as  late  as  the  time  of 
Demoflhenes.  And  Cicero  himfelf  was  the  firil  eminent 
critic  among  the  Romans.  Ariftotle  has  laid  open  the 
principles  of  eloquence  and  perfuafion  as  a  logician  and 
philofopher,  and  Cicero  has  done  it  in  a  ftill  more  maf- 
terly  manner,  as  a  philofopher,  fcholar,  orator  and 
ilatefman  ;  and  I  confefs  unlefs  he  has  had  many  authors 
to  confult  that  we  know  nothing  of,  his  judgment  and 
penetration  are  quite  admirable,  and  his  books  de  Oratore 
&,c.  more  finifhed  in  their  kind,  than  any  of  his  ora- 
tions themfelves. 

As  to  the  efFecls  of  oratory,  they  have  been  and  are 
furely  very  great,  but  as  things  feen  through  a  mift,  or  at 
^  great  diftance,  are  apt  to  be  miftaken  in  their  fize,  I  am 
^pt  to  think  many  fay  things  incredible,  and  make  fuppo- 
fitions  quite  contrary  to  nature  and  reafon,  and  therefore 
to  probability.  Some  fpeak  and  write  as  if  all  the  anci- 
ent orators  had  a  genius  more  than  human,  and  indeed 
by  their  whole  ftrain  feem  rather  to  extinguiih  than  ex- 
cite an  ardor  to  excel.  Some  alfo  feem  to  me  to  go  upon 
n  fuppofition  as  if  all  the  people  in  the  ancient  republics 
had  been  fages  as  well  as  their  llatefmen  orators. 
There  is  a  remark  to  be  found  in  many  critics  upon  a 
ftory  of  Theophraftus  the  philofopher,  from  which  they 
infer  the  delicacy  of  the  Athenians.  That  philofopher 
it  feems  went  to  buy  fomething  of  au  herb  woman  at  a 
ftall,  and  fhe  in  her  anfwer  to  him  it  feems  called  him 
flranger.  This  they  fay  fliows  that  fhe  knew  him  by  his 
accent  not  to  be  a  native  of  Athens,  although  he  had 
lived  there  thirty  years.  But  we  are  not  even  certain 
that  her  calling  him  ilranger  implied  any  more  than  that 
he  was  unknown  to  her.  Belides,  though  it  were  true, 
that  fhe  difcovered  him  not  to  be  an  Athenian  born,  this 
is  no  more  than  what  happens  in  everv  populous  country 
that  there  is  fomething  in  the  accent  which  will  deter- 
mine a  man  to  be  of  one  country  or  province,  rather 
than  another,  and  I  am  fomewhat  of  opinion  that  this 
would  be  more  difcernible  in  Greece  than  any  where 


EloquencB,  413 

clfe.  The  difFerent  dialedls  of  the  Greek  tongue'^were 
not  reckoned  reproachful,  as  many  local  differences  are 
in  Britain,  which  therefore  people  will  endeavor  to  rid 
themfelves  of  as  well  as  they  can.  In  fhort  I  take  it  for 
granted  that  an  aflembly  of  the  vulgar  in  Athens  was 
jull  like  an  affembly  of  common  people  among  us, 
and  a  fenate  at  Athens  in  underftanding  and  tafle  was  not 
fuperior  to  the  fenate  of  Great-Britain,  and  that  fome  of 
them  were  but  mere  mobs;  and  that  they  were  very  difor- 
derly  is  plain  from  what  we  read  of  Plato  being  pulled 
down  from  the  deflc  when  he  wqnt  up  to  defend  Socra- 
tes. 

The  mod:  remarkable  ilory  of  the  effe<St  of  oratory  is 
that  told  of  Cicero's  power  over  Csefar  in  his  oration  for 
C.  Ligarius.  This  is  very  pompoufly  told  by  fome  cri- 
tics, that  Caefar  came  to  the  judgment  feat  determined  to 
condemn  him,  and  even  took  the  pen  in  his  hand  to  Tign 
his  condemnation,  but  that  he  was  interefled  by  Cicero's 
eloquence,  and  at  lad  fo  moved  that  he  dropped  the  pen 
and  granted  the  orator's  requeft.  But  fuppofmg  the  facts 
to  have  happened,  I  am  very  doubtful  of  the  juftnefs  of 
the  remark.  Caefar  was  a  great  politician,  and  as 
we  know  he  did  attempt  to  eftablifli  his  authority 
by  mercy,  it  is  not  unlikely  both  that  he  determined 
to  pardon  Ligarius,  and  to  flatter  Cicero's  vanity  by  giv- 
ing him  the  honor  of  obtaining  it.  In  fhort,  oratory 
has  its  chief  power  in  promifcuous  aflemblies,  and  there 
it  reigned  of  old,  and  reigns  Hill,  by  its  vifible  effefts. 


LECTURE   VL 

WE  now  proceed  to  confider  eloquence  as  divided 
into  its  three  great  kinds — the  fublime,  the 
fimple,  and  the  mixed.  This  is  very  unhappily  expreff- 
ed  by  Ward,  who  divides  llyle  into  the  lov/,  the  middle, 
and  the  fublime.  Low  is  a  word  which  in  its  firft  and, 
literal  fenfe,  fignifies  fituation,  and  when  applied  meta- 
phorically, never  is  in  any  inflance  ufed   in  a    good 


414  Lectures  on 

fenfe,  but  always  fignifies  what  is  either  unhappy,  or  bafe 
and  contemptible,  as  we  lay  a  man's  or  a  Hate's  finan- 
ces are  low.  We  fay  a  man  is  in  a  low  Hate  of  health.. 
We  fay  he  is  guilty  of  low,  mean  pradlices.  A  low, 
mean,  paltry  ftyle.  It  Avas  therefore  conveying  a  very 
wrong  idea  to  make  low  one  of  the  different  kinds  of 
ftyle.  You  may  obferve  that  I  have  introduced  this  dif- 
tin6lion  in  a  manner  fo  me  what  different  from  him,  and 
fome  other  authors.  They  confider  it  as  a  divifion  of  ftyle. 
I  choofe  rather  to  fay  there  are  three  different  great  kinds 
into  which  eloquence  and  compofition  may  be  divided. 
The  reafon  is  I  believe,  the  word  style  which  was  ufed 
both  by  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  but  efpecially  the  latter, 
has  like  many  others  gradually  changed  its  meaning.  At 
iirfi  it  fignified  the  manner  of  writing  in  general,  and  is 
even  fometimes  ufed  fo  ftill,  but  more  commonly  now  in 
EngUlli  it  is  confined  to  the  didlion.  Nothing  is  more 
common  than  to  fay  fublimity  in  fentiments  and  ftyle,  fo 
as  to  diflinguifh  the  one  from  the  other.  I  am  fenfible 
that  even  in  this  confined  fenfe  there  is  a  fublimity,  fim- 
plicity,  raid  mediocrity  in  language  itfelf,  which  will  na- 
turally enough  fall  to  be  explained,  but  it  is  better  upon 
the  whole  to  confider  them  as  different  kinds  of  eloquence 
for  feveral  reafons. 

Sublimity  in  writing  confifi:s  with  all  fi:yles,  and  parti- 
cularly many  of  the  highefi:  and  mofi:  admired  examples 
of  fubhmity  are  in  the  utmoll  fimplicity  of  fiyle.  Some- 
times they  are  fo  far  from  lofing  by  it,  that  they  owe  a 
great  part  of  their  beauty  and  their  force  to  it.  That 
remarkable  example  of  fublimity  in  the  Scripture,  is 
wholly  in  the  fimple  ftyle.  '-'-  Let  there  be  light,  and  there 
*'  was  light."  There  are  alfo  many  others  in  Scripture, 
*'  The  gods  of  the  Gentiles  are  vanity  and  lies," — ''  I  am 
"  that  I  am." 

Some  of  the  other  kinds  alfo,  even  the  fimplefi,  do 
fometimes  admit  great  force  of  expreffion,  though  more 
rarely,  and  there  is  a  great  danger  in  the  fimple  manner  of 
writing  by  admitting  lofty  exprefihions  to  fwell  into  bom- 
bafi:.  The  mixed  kind  frequently  admits  of  fublimity  of 
ityle,  and  indeed  is  called  mixed,  as  confiding,  as  it  were, 


Eloquence,  415 

alternately  of  the  one  and  the  other,  or  being  made  up  of 
a  proportion  of  each. 

The  fubhme  kind  of  writing  chiefly  belongs  to  the  fol- 
lowing fubjc6ls  :  epic  poetry,  tragedy,  orations  on  great 
fubje^ls,  and  then  particularly  the  peroration.  Nothing 
can  be  too  great  for  thefe  fubjedls,  and  unlefs  they  are 
treated  with  fublinriity,  they  are  not  treated  fuitably.  The 
iimple  kind  of  writing  belongs  to  feientiiic  writing,  epif- 
tolary  writing,  ellay  and  dialogue,  and  to  the  whole  in- 
ferior  fpecies  of  poetry,  paftorals,  epigrams,  epitaphs,  Sec. 
The  mixed  kind  belongs  to  hiftory,  fyflem,  and  contro- 
yerfy.  The  firll;  fort  mult  be  always  fublime  in  fenti- 
ment  or  language,  or  both.  The  fecond  may  be  often 
fublime  in  fentiment :  fometimes,  but  very  rarely  in  Ian- 
guage.  The  mixed  admits  of  both  forts  with  full  propri- 
ety, and  may  be  often  fublime  both  in  fentiment  and  lan- 
guage. 

Let  us  now  confider  thefe  three  great  kinds  of  compo- 
fition,  feparateiy,  in  the  order  in  which  I  have  named 
them. 

I.  Of  the  fublime  manner  of  writing — This  is  very 
difficult  to  defcribe  or  treat  of,  in  a  critical  manner.  It  is 
very  remarkable,  that  all  writers  on  this  fubje6l,  not  ex- 
cepting thofe  of  the  greateil  judgment,  accuracy  and  pre- 
cilion,  when  they  come  to  explain  it,  have  ufed  nothing 
but  metaphorical  expreffions.  It  is  however  certain  in 
general,  that  metaphor  fliould  be  kept  as  much  as  poffible 
out  of  definition  or  explication*  Thefe  ail  agreeing  there- 
fore in  this  circumftance,  feems  to  ihow  that  fublimity  is 
afmgle  or  fnnple  idea,  that  cannot  be  refolved,  divided  of 
analyfed,  and  that  a  taile  for  it,  is  in  a  good  meafure,  a 
feeling  of  nature.  The  critics  tell  us,  that  fublimity  is 
that  w^iiich  furprifes,  raviflies,  tranfports  :  tliefe  are  words 
frequently  applied  to  its  cfFeds  upon  the  hearers,  and 
greatnefs,  loftinefs,  majeily,  are  afcribedto  the  fentiments, 
to  the  charadler,  to  the  perfon.  An  oration,  or  the  fub- 
lime parts  of  a  poem,  have  been  compared  to  the  voice 
of  thunder,  or  penetration  of  lightning,  to  the  impetu- 
ofity  of  a  torrent ;  this  lail,  is  one  of  the  bell  metaphorical 
expreffions  for  fublimity  in  eloquence,  becaufe  it  carries 


41 6  Lectures  on 

m  it,  not  only  the  idea  of  great  force,  but  of  carrying  away 
every  thing  with  it  that  oppofes  or  lies  in  its  way.  That 
may  be  faid  to  be  fublime,  that  has  an  irrefiflible  influ- 
ence on  the  hearers,  and  when  examined,  carries  in  it  the 
idea  of  great  power  and  abilities  in  the  fpeaker  :  yet  even 
this  is  not  fufficient,  it  has  the  character  of  greatnefs,  as 
diflin(^  from  that  of  beauty,  fweetnefs  or  ufe.  Burke,  on 
the  fublime,  has  endeavored  to  fliow  that  fublimity  and 
beauty,  though  generally  united  in  our  apprehenfions,  are 
diftin(ft  qualities,  and  to  be  traced  to  a  different  fource. 
Of  fublimity  in  particular,  he  fays  it  is  always  allied  to 
fuch  things  as  raife  the  paflion  of  terror :  but  of  this  I 
will  fpeak  more  fully  upon  a  head  I  have  referved  for  that 
purpofe  ;  in  which  I  propofe  to  inquire  into  the  firft  prin- 
ciples of  tafte  or  approbation  common  to  this  and  all  other 
arts. 

Longinus  mentions  no  lefs  than  five  different  fources 
of  the  fublime.  (i)  Greatnefs  or  elevation  of  mind.  (2) 
Pathos  or  paffion.  (3)  Figure.  (4)  Noblenefs  of  language. 
(5)  Compofition  or  arrangement  of  words.  But  though 
the  laft  two  of  thefe  are  of  confiderable  moment,  and 
greatly  contribute  to  augment  the  force  as  well  as  beauty 
of  a  difcourfe,  1  do  not  think  they  are  of  that  nature,  as 
to  be  confidered  upon  the  fame  footing  with  the  other  three. 
Therefore  leaving  what  is  to  be  faid  upon  them  to  the  next 
head,  when  it  will  properly  occur,  I  Ihall  confider  the 
others  in  their  order. 

I.  Greatnefs  or  elevation  of  mind — This  is  the  firfl 
and  radical  fource  of  fublimity  indeed.  It  is  quite  im- 
poflible  for  a  man  to  attain  to  fublimity  of  compofition, 
uiilefs  his  foul  is  great,  and  his  conceptions  noble  :  and 
on  the  other  hand,  he  that  poiTeffes  thefe,  can  hardly  ex- 
prefs  himfelf  meanly.  Longinus  gives  it  as  an  advice, 
that  a  man  ihould  accuftom  his  mind  to  great  thought. 
But  if  you  afk  me  what  are  great  thoughts,  I  confefs  my- 
felf  unable  to  explain  it,  and  unlefs  the  feeling  is  natural, 
I  am  afraid  it  is  im poflible  to  impart  it ;  yet  it  feems  to  ht 
pretty  generally  underllood.  It  is  common  to  fay  fuch  a 
man  has  a  great  foul,  or  fuch  another  has  a  mean  or  little 
foul.     A  great  foul  afpires  in  its  hopes  ;  is  not  eafily  ter- 


Eloquence  i  417 

rified  by  enemies  or  difcouraged  by  diiEcultles.  It  is 
Worth  while  to  confider  a  little  the  effe6l  of  a  man's  out- 
ward circumftances.  The  mind  to  be  fure,  cannot  be 
wholly  made  by  any  circumftances.  Sentiments  and  ftate. 
are  different  things.  Many  a  great  mind  has  been  in 
narrow  circumftances,  and  many  a  little  rafcal  has  been  a 
king ;  yet  education  and  manner  have  a  fenfible  effect 
upon  men  in  general.  I  imagine  I  have  obferved,  that 
when  perft)ns  of  great  rank,  have  been  at  the  fame  time, 
men  of  real  genius,  they  have  generally  excelled  in  ma- 
jefty  and  dignity  of  fentiments  and  language.  This  was 
an  advantage  generally  enjoyed  by  tlie  ancients  whofe 
writings  remain  to  us ;  having  but  their  own  language  to 
ftudy,  and  being  early  introduced  into  public  life,  and 
even  into  the  conduct  of  the  grcateft  affairs,  they  were  led 
into  noblenefs  of  fentiment.  Xenophon,  Demofthenes, 
Cicero,  Csefar,  were  all  of  them  great  ftatefmen,  and  two 
of  them  great  generals,  as  well  as  writers.  In  modern, 
times,  there  is  a  more  com  pleat  partition  of  employments, 
fo  that  the  flatefman,  general  and  fcholar,  are  feldom  found 
united  in  the  fame  perfon  ;  yet  I  think  it  appears  in  fad:, 
that  when  ftatefmen  are  alfo  fcholars,  they  make  upon  the 
whole,  greater  orators  and  nobler  writers,  than  thofe  who 
are  fcholars  merely,  though  of  the  greateft  capacity.  In 
every  ftation  however,  this  remark  has  place,  that  it  is  of 
importance  to  fublimity  in  writing,  to  endeavor  to  acquire 
a  large  and  liberal  manner  of  thinking,  V/hilft  i  am 
making  ufe  of  this  language,  I  would  caution  you  againft 
thinking  that  pride  and  vanity  of  mind,  are  at  all  allied  to 
greatnefs,  in  this  refpeiSt.  There  is  a  fet  of  men  called 
free-thinkers,  who  are  pleafed  to  arrogate  to  themfelves,  a 
large  and  liberal  manner  of  thinking,  and  the  generality 
of  them,  are  as  little  creatures,  as  any  on  the  face  of  the 
earth.  Mr.  Addifon  compares  them  to  a  fly  lighting  upon 
a  great  building,  and  perceiving  the  fmall  interftices  be- 
tween the  ftones,  cries  out  ofvaft  chafms  and  irregularities, 
which  is  wholly  owing  to  the  extreme  littlenefs  of  his 
ftght,  that  is  not  able  to  fee  the  dignity  and  grandeur  of 
the  whole  building. 

Vol.  III.  3  G 


41 8  Lectures  on 

When  I  am  upon  this  fubje6l  of  greatnels  and  eleva- 
tion of  thought  as  one  fource  of  the  fublime,  you  will 
naturally  expect  that  I  ihould  give  fome  examples  to  il- 
iuftrate  it.     I  fliall  begin  with  fome  but  of  the  fcriptures, 
where  indeed  there  is  the  greateft  number,  and  thefe  the 
neblcllthat  can  well  be  conceived.   "  I  am  God  alone,  and 
befides  me  there  is  no  faviour — Who  is  this  that  darkeneth 
counfel  by  v/ords  without  knowledge  ? — Who  will  fet  the 
briars  and  thorns  againll  me  in  battle,"  &:c.     See  alfo  two 
pafTages  inimitably  grand — Ifa.  40.  12 — and  v.  21,  and 
onwards. 

To  mention  fome  of  the  fayings  in  heathen  antiquity — 
Alexander's  faying  to  Parmenio  is  certainly  of  the  great 
kind,  yet  perhaps  with  a  confiderable  mixture  of  pride  as 
well  as  greatnefs.  Parmenio  told  him  if  he  were  Alexan- 
der he  would  a6l  in  a  certain  manner.  Anfwer.  So 
would  I  if  I  were  Parmenio.  That  of  Porus,  the  Indian 
king,  to  Alexander  however,  was  much  greater*  When 
he  was  Alexander's  prifoner,  and  was  afked  by  that  prince 
how  he  expelled  to  be  treated  ?  He  anfwered.  Like  a  king. 
Casfar's  famous  faying  of  veni,vidi,vici,has  often  been  quo- 
ted as  a  concife  and  noble  defcription  of  the  rapidity  of  his 
conquefts ;  yet  I  confefs  I  think  it  very  dubious ;  it  has 
net  only  an  air  of  improper  vanity,  but  looks  like  an  in- 
tended and  filly  play  upon  the  words,  and  what  we  call 
alliteratio.  They  are  three  words  of  the  fame  length, 
the  fame  tenfe,  and  the  fame  beginning  and  ending. 
Cicero,  in  one  of  his  orations,  I  believe  in  that  for  Mar- 
cellus,  has  a  very  noble  compliment  to  Caefar,  when  he 
fays  the  gods  had  given  nothing  to  men  fo  great  as  a  dif- 
pofition  to  fliew  mercy.  But  of  all  great  fayings  on  re- 
cord there  is  none  that  ever  made  fuch  an  imprefOon 
upon  me  as  that  of  Ayliffe  to  king  James  the  Illd.  He 
had  been  detected  in  fome  of  the  plots,  &c.  The  king 
faid  to  him,  Mr.  Ayliffe,  don't  you  know  'tis  in  my  power 
to  pardon  you  ?  Yes  (fays  he)  I  know  it  is  in  your  power, 
but  it  is  not  in  your  nature ! 

It  is  neceifary  to  put  you  in  mind  in  reading  books  of 
criticifm,  that  when  examples  of  greatnefs  of  fentiment 
are  produced  from  Homer  and  the  other  ancient  writers, 


Eloquence,  419 

that  all  circumilances  muft  be  taken  in,  in  order  to  form 
a  juft  opinion  concerning  them.  We  mult  remember 
his  times,  and  the  general  belief  of  his  countrymen  with 
regard  to  theology,  and  many  other  fubje6:s.  There  mull 
be  a  probability  to  make  a  thing  natural,  othcrwife  it  is 
not  great  or  noble,  but  extra^vagant.  Homer  in  defcrib- 
ing  the  goddefs  Difcord,  fays,  her  feet  were  upon  the 
earth,  and  her  head  was  covered  with  the  clouds.  He 
^  makes  Pluto  look  up  and  affirm,  that  Neptune  would 
"open  hell  itfelf,  and  make  the  light  to  iliine  into  that  dark 
abode.  There  are  feme  of  thefe  that  appear  to  me  fuf- 
picious  even  in  Homer  himfelf  ;  fuch  as  when  he  makes 
Jupiter  brag  that  if  all  the  other  gods  were  to  hang  at  the 
bottom  of  a  chain,  and  earth  and  fea,  and  all  along  with 
them,  he  would  tofs  them  all  up  as  eafily  as  a  ball. 
However  it  was  with  regard  to  him,  who  w^as  taught  to 
believe  in  Jupiter  fitting  upon  Mount  Olympus,  or  quaf- 
fing Ne6tor  in  the  council  of  the  gods,  modern  and  Chrif- 
tian  writers  and  fpeakers  fhould  be  careful  to  avoid  any 
thing  that  is  extravagant  and  ridiculous,  or  even  fuch  al- 
lufions  to  the  heathen  theology  as  could  only  be  proper  to 
thofe  who  believed  in  it. 

There  is  the  more  rea.fon  to  infift  upon  this,  that  as 
grandeur  and  fublimity  is  commonly  a  great  objedl  of 
ambition,  particularly  with  young  perfons,  they  are  very 
ready  to  degenerate  into  bombaft.  You  ought  always  to 
remember  that  the  lan^^uaQ^e  ouf2:ht  to  be  no  hioher  than  the 
fubje^L,  or  the  part  of  the  fubjecl:  that  is  then  immediately 
handled.  See  an  example  of  the  different  ways  of  a  fim- 
pie  and  a  turgid  vvi'iter,  upon  the  very  fame  fentiment 
v/here  the  Roman  empire  was  extended  to  the  weftern 
coaft  of  Spain,  Sextus  Rufus  f.mply  tells  it  thus — Hifpa- 
nius  per  Decimum  Brutum  obtenuimus  ct  ufque  ad  Ga- 
des  et  oceanum  pervenimus.  Florus,  taking  a  more  lofty 
flight,  fays — Decimus  Brutus  aliquanto  totius,  &c. 

I  have  only  further  t®  obferve,  that  in  fublime  defcrip- 
tions  great  care  fnould  be  taken  that  they  be  all  of  a  piece, 
and  nothing  unfuitable  brought  into  view.  Longinus 
juiUy  blamed  the  poet  Heficd,  that  after  he  had  faid  every 


420  Lectures  on 

thing  he  could  to  render  the  goddefs  of  darknefs  terrible, 
he  adds,  that  a  llinking  humor  ran  from  her  nofe — a  cir? 
cumftance  highly  difgulling,  but  no  way  terrible. 


LECTURE     VJL 

I  GOME  now  to  the  fecond  fource  of  the  fublime, 
which  is  pathos,  more  commonly  called  in  Englifli 
the  pathetic,  that  is,  the  power  of  moving  the  paflions. 
This  is  a  very  important  part  of  the  fubje6l :  a  power 
over  the  paffions  is  of  the  utmoft  confequence  to  a  poet,  and 
it  is  all  in  all  to  an  orator.  This  every  one  will  perceive 
if  he  only  recolle6ls  what  influence  paffion  or  fentiment 
has  upon  reafon,  or,  in  other  words,  inclination  upon  the 
practical  judgment.  He  that  polTefles  this  power  ill  a 
high  degree  has  the  higheft  capacity  of  ufefulnefs,  and  is 
like  wife  able  to  do  the  greateft  mifchief.  Sublime  fenti- 
ments  and  language  may  be  formed  upon  any  fubje6l, 
and  they  touch  the  heart  with  a  fenfe  of  fympathy  or 
approbation  ;  but  to  move  the  paflions  of  others  fo  as  to 
incline  their  choice,  or  to  alter  their  purpofe,  is  prirticu- 
larly  the  defign  of  eloquence. 

The  chief  paffions  eloquence  is  intended  to  work  upon 
are,  rage,  terror,  pity,  and  perhaps  defire  in  general,  though 
occafionally  he  may  have  occafion  to  introduce  every  af- 
fe<^ion.  In  a  heroic  poem  every  aiTedlion  may  be  faid  to 
take  its  turn ;  but  the  different  fpecies  of  oratory,  or  the 
different  obje6ls  and  fubjeds  of  it,  may  be  faid  to  divide 
the  paffions.  A  fpeaker  in  political  or  deliberative  affem- 
blies  may  be  faid  to  have  it  in  viev/  to  excite  the  paflion 
of  rage  ;  he  may  naturally  defire  to  incenfe  his  hearers 
againft  their  enemies,  foreign  and  domeilic,  reprefenting 
the  firil  as  terrible  and  dangerous,  to  excite  averfion  and 
hatred,  and  the  other  as  weak  or  worthlefs,  to  excite  con- 
tempt. An  example  of  this  you  have  in  the  great  fub- 
je6t  of  Demoflhene's  orations,  Philip,  king  of  Macedon — 
another  in  Cicero's  difcourfes  againft  Cataline  and  An- 
thony.    Pity  is  the  chief  pafiion  attempted  to  be  railed  at 


Eloquence.  42 1 

thebar,  unlefs  in  criminal  caufes,  where  indignation  againft 
villainy  of  every  kind  is  the  part  of  the  accufer.  Terror 
and  its  attendants  belong  very  much  to  a  fpeaker  in  the 
pulpit ;  rage  he  has  nothing  to  do  with  but  in  an  impro- 
per fenfe,  to  raife  a  ftrong  and  Iteady,  but  uniform  indig- 
nation, againft  evil.  But  even  this  a  fpeaker  from  the 
pulpit  fhould  endeavor  to  convert  into  companion  for 
the  folly  and  Vv^retchednefs  of  the  guilty  perfon.  Pity 
feems  to  be  the  fmgle  obje6l  in  tragedy. 

One  talent  of  great  moment  towards  raifmg  the  paf- 
fions  is  a  ftrong  and  clear  imagination  and  defcriptive 
manner  of  fpeaking,  to  paint  fcenes  and  objedls  ftrongly, 
and  fet  them  before  the  eyes  of  the  hearers.  To  feledl 
fuch  circumftances  as  will  have  the  moft  powerful  effedl, 
and  to  dwell  only  upon  thefe.  We  have  not  any  where 
in  Englifli  a  finer  example  of  the  pathetic,  and  the  choice 
and  ufe  of  circumftances,  than  the  fpeech  which  Shake- 
ipeare  has  made  for  Anthony  in  the  tragedy  of  Caefar. 
It  appears  from  the  hiftory  that  Anthony  did  fuccefsfully 
raife  the  fury  of  the  Romans  againft  thofe  who  killed 
Ceefar,  and  I  think  he  could  hardly  feledl  better  images 
^nd  language  than  thofe  we  have  in  the  Englifti  poet. 

But  yefterday,  &.c. 

I.  To  raifmg  the  paftions  with  fuccefs  much  penetration 
and  knowledge  of  human  nature  is  neceftary.  Without 
this  every  attempt  muft  fail.  In  confirmation  of  this  re- 
mark, though  there  are  perfons  much  better  fitted  for  it 
by  nature  than  others,  the  moft  powerful  in  raifmg  tlie 
paftions  have  generally  been  thofe  who  have  had  much 
acquaintance  with  mankind  and  practice  in  life.  ,Re- 
clufe  ftudents  and  profefled  fcholars  will  be  able  to  difco- 
ver  truth,  and  to  defend  it,  or  to  write  moral  precepts 
with  clearnefs  and  beauty  ;  but  they  are  feldom  equal  for 
the  tender  and  pathetic  to  thofe  who  have  been  much  in 
what  is  called  the  world — by  a  well  known  ufe  of  that  word 
though  almoft  peculiar  to  the  Englifti  language.  There 
is  perhaps  a  double  reafon  for  perfons  well  verfed  in  the 
ways  of  men  having  the  greateft  power  upon  the  paf- 
fions.     They  not  pnly  know  others  better,  and  therefore 


422  Lectures  on 

how  to  touch  them,  but  their  own  hearts  it  is  likely  have 
been  agitated  by  more  paffions  than  thofe  whofe  lives  have 
been  more  calm  and  even. 

2.  To  raifing  the  pafTions  of  others,  it  is  neceffary  the 
orator  or  writer  fliould  feel  what  he  would  communicate. 
This  is  fo  well  known  a  rule,  that  I  am  almofl  aihamed  to 
mention  it,  or  the  trite  quotation  commonly  attending  it ; 
"  Si  vis  me  ilere  dolendum  eft  primum  ipfi  tibi."  ■  You 
may  as  well  kindle  a  fire  with  a  piece  of  ice,  as  raife  the 
paffions  of  others  while  your  own  are  ftill.  I  fuppofe  the 
reafon  of  this,  if  we  would  critically  examine  it,  is,  that  we 
believe  the  thing  to  be  a  pretence  or  impofition  altogether, 
if  we  fee  that  he  who  wiflies  us  to  be  moved  by  what  he 
fays,  is  notwithftanding  himfelf  unmoved.  The  offence 
is  even  fomething  more  than  barely  negative  in  fome  ca- 
fes. If  we  hear  a  man  fpeaking  with  coldnefs  and  indif- 
ference, where  we  think  he  ought  to  be  deeply  interefted, 
we  feel  a  certain  difappointment,  and  are  filled  with  dif- 
pleafure  ;  as  if  an  advocate  was  pleading  for  a  perfon  ac- 
cufed  of  a  capital  crime,  if  he  fhould  appear  with  an  air 
of  indifference  and  unconcern,  let  his  language  and  com- 
pofition  be  what  they  will,  it  is  always  faultlefs  or  dif- 
gufting  :  or  let  a  minifter  when  fpeaking  on  the  weighty 
fubjed:  of  eternity,  fliow  any  levity  in  his  carriage,  it 
muft  weaken  the  force  of  the  moft  moving  truths ;  where- 
as, when  we  fee  the  fpeaker  wholly  engaged  and  polfeffed 
by  his  fubjedt,  feeling  every  paffion  he  wifhes  to  commu- 
nicate, we  give  ourfelves  up  to  him  without  referve,  and 
are  formed  after  his  very  temper  by  receiving  his  inftruc- 
tions. 

3.  It  is  a  diredlion  nearly  allied  to  this,  a  man  fhould 
never  attempt  to  raife  the  paffions  of  his  hearers  higher  than 
the  fubjed  plainly  merits  it.  There  are  fome  fubje6ls, 
that  if  we  are  able,  are  of  fuch  moment  as  to  deferve  all 
the  zeal  and  fire  we  can  poffibly  beftow  on  them,  of  which 
we  may  fay,  as  Dr.  Young,  "  Paffion  is  reafon,  tranfport, 
"  temper  here."  A  lawyer  for  his  client,  whom  he  be- 
lieves to  be  innocent ;  a  patriot  for  his  country,  which  he 
believes  to  be  in  danger  :  but  above  all,  a  minifter  for  his 
people's  everlafting  welfare,  may  fpeak  with  as  much 


Eloquence,  423 

force  and  vehemence,  as  his  temper  and  frame  are  fuf- 
ceptible  of;  but  in  many  other  cafes  it  is  eafy  to  tranfcend 
the  bounds  of  reafon,  and  make  the  language  more  lofty 
than  the  theme.  We  meet  often,  for  example,  with  rai- 
fed  and  labored  encomiums  in  dedications,  a  fpecies  of 
writing  the  mofl  difficult  to  fucceed  in,  of  any  almoft,  that 
can  be  named.  The  perfon  honored  by  this  mark  of 
the  author's  efteem,  is  very  feklom  placed  in  the  fame 
rank  by  the  public,  that  he  is  by  him.  Befides,  though 
he  were  really  meritorious,  it  feldom  comes  fairly  up  to 
the  reprefentation  :  the  truth  is,  to  correfpond  to  the  pic- 
ture, he  fliould  be  almoft  the  only  meritorious  perfon  of 
the  age  or  place  in  which  he  lives.  Now,  confidering 
hov/  cold  a  compliment  this  is  to  all  the  reft,  and  parti- 
cularly to  thofe  who  read  it,  there  is  little  Avonder  that  fuch 
rhapfodies  are  treated  with  contempt.  I  have  often 
thought  the  fame  thing  of  funeral  panegyrics  :  when  a 
man  dies,  whofe  name  perhaps,  was  hardly  ever  heard  of 
before,  we  have  a  fplendid  character  of  him  in  the  news- 
papers, where  the  prejudice  of  relations  or  the  partiality 
of  friendfhip  do  juft  what  they  pleafe.  I  remember  at  the 
death  of  a  perfon  whom  I  fhall  not  name,  who  was  it  muft 
be  confeifed,  not  inconfiderable  for  literature,  but  otherwife 
had  not  m.uch  that  was  either  great  or  amiable  about  him, 
an  elegiac  poem  was  publiftied,  which  began  with  this 
line,  *'  Whence  this  aftonifliment  in  every  face."  Had 
the  thing  been  really  true,  and  the  public  had  been  deeply 
affedted  with  the  lofs,  the  introdu6lion  had  been  not  in- 
elegant ;  but  on  fuch  a  pompous  exprelTion,  when  the 
reader  recolle(!i^ed  that  he  had  feen  no  marks  of  public  af- 
tonifliment, it  could  not  but  tempt  him  to  fmile. 

4.  Another  important  remark  to  be  made  here,  is,  that 
a  writer  or  fpeaker  in  attempting  the  pathetic,  fliould  con- 
fider  his  own  natural  turn,  as  well  as  the  fubied-.  Some 
are  naturally  of  a  lefs  warm  and  glowing  imagination, 
and  in  themfelves  fufceptible  of  a  lefs  degree  of  paflion 
than  others  ;  thcfefliouldtake  care  not  to  attempt  a  flight 
that  they  cannot  finifli,  or  enter  upon  fuch  fentiments  and 
language  as  they  will  probably  fink  as  it  were,  and  fall 
away  from,  in  a  little  time.  Such  fhould  fubftitute  gravity 


4U 


Lectures  on 


and  folemnity,  inftead  of  fire,  and  only  attempt  to  make 
their  difcourfe  clear  to  the  underftanding,  and  convincing 
to  the  confcience :  perhaps,  this  is  in  general  the  bell 
way  in  ferious  difcourfes  and  moral  writings  ;  becaufe, 
though  it  may  not  produce  fo  ftrong  or  ardent  emotions,  it 
often  leaves  a  deeper  and  more  lafting  impreflion. 

Of  Figurathe  Speech. 

It  is  common  to  meet  with  this  expreflion ;  "  The  tropes 
and  figures  of  rhetoric."  This  expreflion  is  not  jufl ; 
the  terms  are  neither  fynonimous,  nor  are  they  two  dif- 
tin6l  fpecies  of  one  genus — Figure  is  the  general  expref- 
fion  ;  a  trope  is  one  of  the  figures,  but  there  are  many 
more.  Every  trope  is  a  figure,  but  every  figure  is  not  a 
trope :  perhaps  we  may  fay  a  trope  is  an  expedient  to 
render  language  more  extenfive  and  copious,  and  may  be 
ufed  in  tranquility  ;  whereas,  a  figure  is  the  effe6l  of 
pallion.  This  diflindlion  however,  cannot  be  univerfally 
maintained ;  for  tropes  are  oftentimes  the  efie6l  of  pafliion 
as  well  as  of  the  narrownefs  of  language.  Figures  may  be 
defined  any  departure  from  the  plain  direct  manner  of  ex- 
preflion, and  particularly  fuch  as  are  fuggefl:ed  by  the  pafil* 
ons,  and  differ  on  that  account,  from  the  way  in  which  we 
would  have  fpoken,  if  in  a  fl:ate  of  perfe(?t  tranquility. 
Tropes  are  afpecies  of  figures,  in  which  a  word  or  phrafe  is 
made  ufe  of  in  a  fenfe  different  from  its  firfl:  and  proper 
fignification,  as  "  The  Lord  is  a  fun  and  fhield  ;"  where 
the  words  "  fun  and  fliield,"  are  ufed  tropically.  There 
are  feveral  different  tropes. 

I  Metonomy — This  is  a  very  general  kind  of  trope, 
comprehending  under  it  feveral  others  ;  the  meaning  of 
it  is  a  change  of  name,  or  one  name  for  another  :  this 
maybe  done  feveral  v/ays :  (i)  The  caufe  may  be  put 
for  die  efledt,  or  the  effe(!il  for  the  caufe  :  as  when  we  fay, 
cold  death ;  becaufe  death  makes  cold :  Old  age  kept 
him  behind,  that  is,  made  him  weak,  &c.  (2)  The  author 
for  his  works.  (3)  The  thing  containing,  for  the  thing 
contained  :  as  drink  the  cup,  that  is,  the  liquor  in  the  cup. 
(4)  A  part  is  taken  for  the  whole,  or  the  whole  for  a  part; 


Eloquence  k  425 

as  my  roof  for  my  houfe  ;  my  houfe  is  on  fire,  when  only 
a  fmall  part  of  it  burns — This  is  called  fynechdoche.  (5) 
A  general  term  for  a  particular  ;  a  hundred  reafons  may 
be  given,  that  is,  many  reafons  may  be  given.  (6)  A  pro- 
per name  for  a  charadlerillic  name,  as  he  is  a  Nero  for  a 
cruel  man,  or  a  Sardanapulus  for  a  voluptuous  monarch. 
All  thefe  and  many  more  are  metonemies. 

2  Metaphor — this  might  as  well  have  been  the  gene- 
ral term,  as  trope ;  for  it  alfo  fignifies  change  of  expref- 
fion  :  it  is  afpecies  of  trope,  by  which  any  term  is  appli- 
ed in  a  fenfe  difi'erent  from  its  natural  import,  as  when 
we  fay  a  tide  of  pleafure,  to  exprefs  the  impetuofity  of 
pleafure  :  when  the  heavens  are  faid  to  be  bver  our  heads 
as  brafs,  and  the  earth  under  our  feet  as  iron. 

3  Allegory — This  is  continuing  the  metaphor,  and  ex- 
tending it  by  a  variety  of  expreflions  of  the  fame  kind,  as 
the  Lord  is  my  ihepherd,  he  maketh  me  to  lie  down  in 
green  pailures — he  maketh  me  to  feed  befide  the  Hill 
waters. 

4  Irony — In  ufmg  words  dire6lly  contrary  to  their 
meaning ;  as,  "  No  doubt  you  are  the  people  and  wifdom 
"  ihall  die  with  you." 

5  Hyperbole— When  things  are  carried  beyond  their 
truth,  to  exprefs  our  fentiments  more  flrongly,  as  "  Swifts 
*'  er  than  the  wind,  whiter  than  fnow. 

6  Catachrefis— is  the  firfl  trope  of  all,  when  words  are 
ufed  in  an  oppofite,  and  fometimes  in  an  impofiible  fenfe, 
as  when  chains  and  Ihackles  are  called  bracelets  of  iron. 

Figures* 

Figures  cannot  be  fully  enumerated,  becaufe  they  are 
without  number;  and  each  figure  may  be  ufed  feveral 
different  ways,  (i)  Exclamation — This  is  nothing  elfe 
than  a  way  of  expreffing  admiration  or  lamentation,  as 
Oh  !  Alas  !  Heavens  !  &c.  ufed  by  perfons  much  moved. 
(2)  Doubt — This  is  frequently  the  expreffion  of  a  doubt- 
ful mind,  in  fufpenfe  v/hat  to  do.  This  is  defcrlbed  by 
Virgil,  in  the  diftrefs  of  Dido,  v/hen  Eneas  left  her  ; 
"  Shall  I  go  to  the  neighboring  kings  whotn  I  have  fo  of*.. 

Vpi .  IIL  ^  H 


426  Lectures  on 

•*  ten  defpifcd  ?"  Somellmes  it  is  a  beautiful  figufe,  and 
obliges  perfons  to  take  notice  of  it,  and  fonaetimes  of  what 
they  would  othervvife  have  omitted:  "  Who  is  this  that 
"  Cometh  from  Edom?"  (3)  Epanorthofis — This  is  a  cor- 
rection or  improvement  of  what  has  been  faid  :  '^  You  are 
*^  not  truly  the  fon  of  a  goddefs,  nay  you  mufl:  have  fucked 
a  tygreis."  (4)  Pleonafm — This  is  a  redundancy,  as  "  I 
*'  have  heard  it  with  my  ears,  he  fpake  it  with  his  mouth.'* 
(5)  Simihtude — This  is  comparing  one  thing  with  ano- 
ther, as  "  he  ftiali  be  like  a  tree  planted  &c.  (6)  Diftri- 
bution — This  confiils  of  a  particular  enumeration  of  fe- 
veral  correfpondent  images  :  ''  Their  throat  is  an  open 
**  fepulchre,  their  tongues  have  ufed  deceit."  (7)  Profo- 
popei — When,  perfons  dead  or  abfent,  or  diiFerent  from 
the  fpeaker,  are  brought  in  fpeaking,  as  Cicero  fuppofes 
his  country  or  Italy,  and  all  the  public  faying  to  Him, 
••'  Marius  Tullius  what  are  you  doing  ?"  (8)  Apoilrophe — 
When  perfons  dead  or  abfent,  or  any  inanimate  things  are 
fpoken  to,  as  Cicero  fays,  ''  O  !  vos,  or  hear  O  !  Heavens, 
*'  and  give  ear  O !  earth."  (9)  Communication- — When 
a  fpeaker  calls  upon  liis  hearers  to  fay  what  advice  they 
would  give,  or  what  they  would  have  done  different  from 
what  he  or  die  perfon  whom  he  defends  has  done  ;  What 
could  you  have  done  in  this  cafe  ?  What  fliould  I  do  now  r 
(10)  Interrogation — Putting  a  thing  home  to  the  readers, 
as ''  What  fruit  had  you  then  in  thofe  things  of  which 
*'  vou  are  now  afhamed?" 


LECTURE    VIIL 

I  Have  now  gone  through  the  account  given  in  tlie  fyf- 
tems  of  the  tropes  and  figures  of  rhetoric  by  which  you 
will  fufficii£ntly  underftand  tlie  meaning  of  both.  The 
proper  applications  however  of  them  is  a  matter  of 
much  greater  moment  and  of  much  greater  d'fBculty. 
I  w^ill  make  a  few  remarks  before  I  clofe  the  fubje(5l  in 
addition  to  what  hath  been  already  interfperled  through 
the  different  parts  of  it. 


'  E'ioquciici.  427 

I.  Perhaps  it  will  not  be  rmproper  t6  corifider  what 
is  the  purpole   intended  by  figures,     I  have  introduced 
them  here  as  a  means  of  giving  fublimity  to  a  difcourfe, 
but  may  there  not  be   fome  little  analyiis  and  refolution 
of  that  purpofe,  may  we  not  inquire  what  are  the   parti- 
cular effe(^s  of  figures  ?   Are  the  effedls  of  figures  in  ge- 
neral, and  of  all   figures,  the  fame  ?  It  is  certain  that 
figurative  fpeech  is  very  powerful  in  raifing  the  paffions. 
And  probably  different   figures  are  proper  to  exprefs  or 
excite  different  paffions  ;  admiration,  defire,  pity,    ha- 
tred, rage,  or  difdain.     This  appears  from  the    explica- 
tion of  figures  formerly    given.     But  befides   this,   w^ 
may  obferve  that  there  are  fome  effe6ls  of  figures  that 
^fcem  to  be  wholly  unconnected  with   paffion,  of  thefe  I 
fhall  mention  three ;  ornament,  explication,  convitlion. 
Sometimes  figure  is  made  ufe  of  merely    for  ornament. 
Of  this  Rollin  gives  us  an  example  in  which  an  author 
fays,  "  The  king,  to  give  an  eternal  mark  of  the  efleem 
"  and  friendfliip  with  which  he  honored  a  great  general 
*'  gave  an  illuUrious  place  to  his  glorious  allies  amidfl 
*'  thofe  mafters  of  the  earth,  w  ho  preferve  on  the  mag- 
*'  nificence   of  their   tombs   an  image    of  the  luflre  of 
*'  their  thrones."     Under  this  head  may  be  reckoned  all 
the  examples  of  the  ufe  of  figures   to  raife    things  that 
are  mean  and  low  in  themfelves  to  fome  degree  of  dig- 
nity by  the  phrafeology,  or  to  give  a  greater  dignity  to  any- 
thing than  the  fimple  idea  or  the  proper  name  would 
convey,    as     if   one   fliould    fay,    looking   round     the 
fcene  and  obferving  the  bounteous  gifts  of  Providence 
for  the  fupport  of  innumerable  creatures,  inftead  of  the 
grafs  and  corn  every  where  growing  in  abundance.     Per- 
haps alfo  under   the  fame  head  may  be  reckoned,  the 
clothing    in  other  terms  any  thing  that  might  be  fuppofed 
difagreeable  or  difgufiing,  as  when  Cicero  confeifes  that 
the  fervants  of  Milo  killed  Clodius,    he  does  not  fay 
interficerunt  but  he  fays,  "  They  did  that  which  every 
*'  good  man  would  wifli  hi^  fervants  to  do  in  like  circum- 
''  fiances."     I  fhall  only  obferve,  that  the  greatefl  delica- 
cy and  judgment  imaginable  is  neceflary  in  the  ufe  of 
figures  with  this  view,  becaufe  they  are  very  apt  to  de 


428  Lectures  en 

generate  into  bombaft.  Young  perfons  in  their  firft  com- 
pofitions  and  efpecially  when  they  have  a  good  deal  of 
ancient  literature  frefh  in  their  heads,  are  very  apt  to  be 
faulty  in  this  particular.  A  common  word  or  fentiment 
which  any  body  might  ufe,  and  every  body  would  uri- 
derftand,  they  think  mean  and  below  them,  and  there- 
fore they  have  recourfe  to  unneceflary  figures,  and  hard 
or  learned  phrafes.  Inflead  of  walking  about  the  fields 
they  perambulate  them,  they  do  not  difcover  a  thing, 
but  recognife  it.  Johnfon  the  author  of  the  Rambler  is 
the  mod  faulty  this  way,  of  any  writer  of  character.  A 
little  play  of  wit,  or  a  hw  ilrokes  of  railery,  he  calls  a 
reeiprocation  of  smartness. 

Another  ufe  of  figures  is  for  explication,  to  make  a 
thing  more  clearly  conceived.  This  in  general  may  be 
faid  to  be  the  ufe  of  the  fimilitude,  only  1  think  when 
iigures  arc  ufed  for  illufiration  it  is  as  much  to 
aflift  the  imagination  as  the  judgment,  and  to  make  the 
imprefiion  which  was  before  real  and  jull  very  ftrong. 
For  example  when  Solomon  fays,  "  Let  a  bear  robbed 
*'  of  her  whelps  meet  a  man  rather  than  a  fool  in  his 
*'  folly."  "  If  you  bray  a  fool  in  a  mortar  he  willt 
*'  return  to  his  folly,"  "  The  fooli.ili  man  walketh  by 
*'  the  way,  and  he  faith  to  every  one  that  he  is  a  fool." 

A  third  ufe  of  figures  may  be  faid,  although  improperly, 
to  be  for  cpnvi6lion,  or  to  make  us  more  readily  or  more 
fully  yield  to  the  truth,  as  when  to  fupport  what  we  have 
faid,  that  perfons  of  found  judgment  are  referved  in 
fpeech,  we  add,  deep  waters  move  without  noife — or 
that  men  in  eminent  Itations  are  expofed  to  obfervation 
and  cenfure.  "  A  city  that  is  fet  on  a  hill  cannot  be 
hid."  In  all  fuch  cafes  therefore  it  is  certain  that  a  fimi- 
litude is  not  an  argument,  yet  the  analogy  of  nature 
feems  to  carry  in  it  a  good  deal  of  evidence,  and  adds  to  the 
imprefiion  made  upon  the  mind. 

2.  A  fecond  remark  is,  that  figures  of  every  kind 
fhould  come  naturally,  and  never  be  fought  for.  The 
ilefign  of  explaining  the  feveral  kinds  of  figures  is  not 
to  teach  you  to  make  them,  but  to  corre6t  them.  Argu- 
^nents  and  iliufi:rations  we  mull  endeavor  to  invent,  but 


Eloquence,  429 

figures  never.  If  they  do  not  flow  fpontaneous,  they  are 
always  forced.  If  a  man  having  proceeded  too  far  in  a 
fubje6l,  bethinks  himfelf,  that  he  will  here  introduce 
a  fimilitude,  or  an  allegory,  or  a  profopeia,  Sec.  He  will 
either  rails  of  it  altogether,  or  he  will  produce  fomething 
vaitly  more  jejune  and  infipid  than  it  is  poiTible  for  any 
man  to  make  without  figures.  It  puts  me  in  mind  of 
the  ridiculous  chafms  that  fome  perfons  bring  themfelves 
to  in  converfation,  when  they  offer  to  bring  a  fimilitude 
which  has  not  yet  occurred  to  them.  They  will  fay 
*'  He  raged,  and  raved,  and  roared  juft  like — I  don't 
''  know  what.'*  Figures  Ihould  be  the  native  exprelTion 
of  paiTions  or  conceptions  already  felt,  as  they  are  the 
meiins  of  raifmg  paifions  in  thofe  to  whom  you  fpeak. 
They  ihould  therefore  be  pofterior  in  point  of  time,  to 
the  feelings  of  the  fpeaker,  although  prior  to  thofe  of  the 
hearers.  The  great  purpofes  therefore  of  criticifm  on 
this  part  of  the  fubjeft  is  to  prune  the  luxuriancies  of 
nature,  and  fee  that  the  figures  be  jull  and  natural. 

3.  1  have  already  in  fpeaking  upon  the  tropes,  hadoc- 
cafion  to  give  fome  rules  as  to  the  ufe  of  them,  particular- 
ly as  to  the  propriety  and  confillency  of  them.  But 
there  are  fome  things  to  be  obferved  further  for  explaining 
them.  There  are  two  charaders  frequently  given  to 
tropes,  efpecially  to  metaphors  which  deferve  to  be  con- 
fidered.  The  one  is  ilrength,  the  other  is  boldnefs.  Thefe 
are  by  no  means  the  fame.  That  is  a  flrong  me- 
taphor or  image  that  gives  us  a  very  lively  impreffion  of 
the  thing  reprefented.  As  that  of  the  wife  man,  "  A 
**  ftone  is  heavy,  and  the  fand  is  weighty,  but  a  fools 
*'  wrath  is  heavier  than  them  both."  A  bold  image  or 
metaphor  is  that  which  upon  the  whole  is  juft  and  flrong, 
but  is  confiderably  removed  from  common  obfervation, 
and  would  not  eafily  or  readily  have  occurred  to  another. 
It  is  alfo  called  a  bold  image  when  the  refemblance  is  but 
in  one  lingle  point.  There  is  not  any  where  to  be  feen 
a  collection  of  bolder  images,  than  in  the  book  of  Job, 
particularly  in  the  defcription  of  the  war-horfe,  among 
which  in  particular  the  following  feems  to  excell,  "  Hail 
*-  thou  clothed  his  neck    with    thunder."      To  liken 


43©  Lectures'  on 

the  mane  of  ahorfeto  thunder,  would  not  have  oc- 
curred to  every  one  ;  neither  in  idea  does  the  refemblance 
hold  but  in  one  particular,  that  the  flowing  and 
waving  of  the  mane  is  like  the  fheets  and  forked  flakes 
of  lightning. 


LECTURE    IX. 

I  NOW  come  to  confider  the  finple  manner  of  writing. 
If  I  could  explain  this  fully  fo  as  to  make  every  one 
clearly  to  underftand  it,  and  at  the  fame  time  incline 
you  to  admire  and  ftudy  it,  I  fliould  think  a  very  difficult 
and  important  point  was  gained.  It  is  exceedingly 
difficult  to  bring  young  perfons  efpecially  to  a  tafte  for 
the  funple  way  of  writing.  They  are  apt  to  think  it  of 
little  moment,  not  fo  much  the  objedt  of  ambition  as  an 
cxercife  of  felf-denial,  to  fay  a  thing  plainly  when  they 
might  have  faid  it  nobly.  I  would  obferve  therefore,  in 
the  very  beginning,  it  is  a  miflake  to  confider  funplicity 
and  fublimity  as  univerfally  oppofite,  for  on  the  contrary 
there  is  not  only  a  great  excellence  in  fome  performances 
which  we  may  call  wholly  of  the  fimple  kind  ;  fuch  as 
a  flory  told  or  an  epiflle  written  with  all  the  beauty  of 
fmiplicity,  but  in  the  moil  fublime  and  animated  compo- 
fitions,  fome  of  the  greateft  fentiments  derive  their 
beauty  from. being  clothed  in  limple  language.  Simpli- 
city is  even  as  necellary  to  fome  parts  of  an  oration, 
as  it  is  to  the  whole  of  fome  kinds  of  compofition.  Let 
the  fubject  be  ever  fo  great  and  interefting,  it  is  prudent, 
decent,  neceifary,  to  begin  the  difcourfe  in  a  cool  and 
difpaffionate  manner.  That  man  who  fhould  begin  an 
oration  with  the  fame  boldnefs  of  figure  and  the  fame 
high  pitch  of  voice  that  would  be  proper  towards  the 
clofe  of  it,  would  commit  one  of  the  greateft  faults 
againft  propriety,  and  I  think  would  wholly  prevent  its 
efledl  upon  the  hearers. 

But  how  fhall  we  explain  the  fimple  manner  of  writ- 
ing ?    It  is,  fay  many  authors,  that  which  is  likeFt  to  and. 


Eloquence,  43! 

leafi:  removed  from  the  language  of  common  life.  It  mufl 
be  therefore  eafy  and  obvious,  few  or  no  figures  in  the 
expreflion,  nothing  obfcure  in  the  fentiments  or  in- 
volved in  the  method.  Long  fentences  are  contrary  to 
It,  words  either  difficult  or  uncommon  are  inconfiftent 
with  it.  Cicero  and  Horace  have  both  faid,  and  all  critics 
have  faid  after  them,  it  is  that  which  when  men  hear  ihey 
think  that  they  themfelves  could  only  have  faid  the  fame, 
or  that  it  is  jufl  a  kind  of  expreffioii  of  their  own  thoughts. 
They  generally  remark  further,  that  it  is  what  feems 
to  be  eafy,  but  yet  is  not ;  as  Horace  fays,  ut  fibi  queris 
fperet  idem,  &c.  AVe  may  further  obferve,  that  what  is 
truly  fimple  always  carries  in  it  the  idea  of  being  eafy  in 
its  produ6lion,  as  well  as  in  imitation,  and  indeed  the 
one  of  thefe  feems  neceffarily  to  fuppoib  the  other.  What- 
ever feems  to  be  the  eife6l  of  iludy  and  much  invention, 
cannot  be  fmiple.  It  is  finely  exemplified  in  the  intro- 
duction of  Anthony's  fpeech  in  Shakefpeare :  1  am  no  ora- 
tor as  Brutus  is,  &c.  RoUin  has  given  us  an  admirable  ex- 
ample of  a  ftory  told  Vvith  a  beautiful  fim pi icity  from  Cice* 
ro's  offices.  There  is  an  example  alio  in  Livy's  account 
of  the  battle  of  the  Koratii  &  Curiatii,  only  with  a  little 
more  force  of  expreffion,  asthe  importance  and  folemnity  of 
the  fubjedl  feemed  to  require  it.  But  it  requires  a  very  ma- 
fterly  knowledge  of  the  Latin  language  to  perceive  the  beau- 
ties fully  that  are  pointed  at  by  Pcollin  in  the  firfl  iaflance, 
or  might  eafily  be  mentioned  in  the  lafc.  There  is  no  au- 
thor  in  our  language  who  excels  more  in  funpiicity  than 
Addifon — -The  Spe£lator  in  general  indeed,  but  'efpecially 
the  papers  written  by  him,  excel  in  this  quality.  Eafe 
and  elegance  are  happily  joined  in  them,  and  nature  it- 
felf,  as  it  v/ere,  feems  to  fpeak  in  them.  If  ibme  of  the 
later  periodical  writers  have  equalled,  or  even  excelled 
them  in  force  or  elegance,  not  one  ha^  ever  come  up  to 
them  in  fimplicity. 

The  fubjei^ls  or  the  fpecies  of  writing  in  which  fimpli- 
city chiefly  fhines,  are  narration,  dialogue,  epiftolary  writ- 
ing, effay  writing,  and  all  the  lighter  fpecies  of  poetiy,  as 
odes,  fongs,  epigrams,  eligies  and  fuch  like.  The  an- 
cients were  ren\arkable  for  a  love  and  admiration  of  fim- 


^^2  Lectures  on 

plicity,  and  fome  of  them  remain  to  us  as  eminent  ex- 
amples of  its  excellence.  Xenophon  in  his  inftitution  of 
Cyrus,  is  particularly  remarkable  for  a  fweet  and  dig- 
nified fimplicity.  He  ufes  neither  language  nor  ideas  that 
are  difficult  and  far-fetched.  In  the  fmaller  compofitions 
of  the  ancients,  as  odes,  epigrams,  &:c.  they  were  at 
prodigious  pains  to  poliih  them,  and  make  them  quite  eafy 
and  natural.  They  placed  their  great  glory  in  bellowing 
much  art,  and  at  the  fame  time  making  it  to  appear  quite 
eafy  and  artlefs,  according  to  the  faying  now  grown  into 
a  proverb,  artis  est  celare  artem.  The  beauty  of  fimpli- 
city may  not  appear  at  firft  fight,  or  be  at  all  perceived 
by  peribns  of  a  vitiated  tafie,  but  all  perfons  of  good 
judgment  immediately,  and  the  bulk  of  mankind  in  time, 
are  charmed  with  what  is  quite  eaiy  and  yet  truly  accu- 
rate and  elegant. 

It  ought  to  be  carefully  obferved  that  fimplicity  is 
quite  a  different  thing  from  lownefs  and  meannefs,  and  the 
great  art  of  a  writer  is  to  preferve  the  one  without  dege- 
nerating into  the  other.  It  is  the  eafiefi:  thing  in  the 
world  to  fpeak  or  write  vulgarifms,  but  a  perfon  of  true 
tafte  Vv^ill  carefully  avoid  every  thing  of  that  kind.  For 
example,  one  who  would  write  fimply,  and  as  near  the 
language  of  plain  people  in  ordinary  difcourfe  as  poffible, 
would  yet  avoid  every  abfurdity  or  barbarifm  that  ob- 
tains a  place  in  common  converfation,  as  to  fay,  "  This 
'*  here  table,  and  that  there  candle."  It  is  alfo  quite 
contrary  to  fimplicity  to  adopt  the  quaint  exprefifions  or 
cant  phrafes  that  are  the  children  of  faihion  and  obtain 
for  a  little,  or  in  fome  particular  places  and  not  in  others. 
The  Spc6lator  attacked  with  great  fpirit  and  propriety 
feveral  of  thofethat  were  introduced  into  converfation  and 
wTiting  in  his  time,  fuch  as  mob^  rip^pos^  hite^  hamhoosle^ 
and  feveral  others.  Mod  of  them  he  fairly  defeated,  but 
one  or  two  of  them  got  the  better  of  him,  and  are  now 
freely  introduced  into  the  language,  fuch  as  mob,  John- 
fon  alfo  has  put  bamboofle  in  his  Dictionary,  which  he 
calls  indeed  a  low  word.  Arbuthnot  is  his  authority, 
but  it  was  plainly  ufed  by  him  in  the  way  of  ridicule, 
and  therefore  it  Ihould  either  npt  have  been  in  the  Didti- 


Eloquence',  433 

tlonary  at  all,  or  fuch  an  authority  fhoiild  not  have  been 
given  for  it. 

It  is  exceedingly  difficult  and  requires  an  excellent 
judgment  to  be  able  to  defcend  to  great  fimplicity,  and 
yet  to  keep  out  every  low  expreffion  or  idea*  I  do  not 
tliink  it  is  eafy  to  be  a  thorough  judge  of  pure  di6lion  in 
any  language  but  our  own/and  not  even  in  that  without 
a  good  deal  of  the  knowledge  of  human  life,  and  a  tho- 
rough acquaintance  with  the  befl  authors*  Writers  and 
fpeakers  of  little  judgment  are  apt  by  times  to  go  into 
extremes,  to  fwell  too  much  on  the  one  hand,  and  to  fall 
into  what  is  vulgar  and  oiTenfive  ox\  the  other. 

When  fpeaking  on  fimplicity,  I  obferve  that  there  is 
a  fimplicity  in  the  tafle  and  compofition  of  a  whole 
difcourfe,  different  from  fimplicity  of  fentiment  and  lan^ 
guage  in  the  particular  parts.  This  will  incline  a  man 
to  avoid  all  unneceffary  ornament,  particularly  the  orna- 
ments of  fafhion  and  the  peculiar  drefs  or  mode  of  the 
times.  We  fay  in  architedlure  that  a  building  is  in  a 
fimple  flyle,  when  it  has  not  great  a  multiplicity  of 
ornaments,  or  is  not  loaded  v/ith  beauties,  fo  to  fpeak* 
It  is  very  remarkable  that  books  written  in  the  fame  age 
will  differ  very  much  one  from  another  in  this  rcfpe6t  ; 
and  thofe  which  have  lead  of  the  ornaments  then  in  vogue^ 
continue  in  reputation  when  the  others  are  grown  ridi- 
culous. I  will  give  you  an  inftance  of  this.  A  fmall 
religious  treatife,  ScougaPs  Life  of  God  in  the  foul  of 
man,  which  is  written  with  great  fimplicity,  and  yet  digni* 
ty,  and  may  now  be  read  with  pleafure  and  approbation 
by  perfons  of  the  befl  tafte  ;  while  moft  of  the  other  writers 
of  his  age  and  country,  are  ridiculous,  or  hardly  intelli- 
gible. 

Perhaps  it  may  help  us  to  form  right  notions  of  fimpli* 
city,  to  confider  what  are  the  oppofites,  or  the  greatefl:  ene- 
mies to  it.  (i)  One  is  abftradion  of  fentiment,  or  too 
great  refinement  of  any  kind  :  of  this  the  greateii:  exam- 
ple in  an  author  of  merit,  is  the  writer  of  the  Ran  ibler ; 
almoft  every  page  of  his  writings,  furnlfhes  us  with  infian- 
ces  of  departure  from  fimplicity,  partly  in  the  fentiment^ 
and  partly  in  the  diction. 

Vol.  III.  3  I 


434  iuCctiircs  dw 

(2)  Another,  is  allegory,  and  efpecially  far-fetched  al- 
lufions,  as  in  the  example  which  the  Spectator  gives  of  a 
poet,  who  fpeaks  of  Bacchus'  call  coat :  this  is  little  better 
than  a  riddle,  and  even  thofe  who  difcern  it,  will  take  a 
little  time  to  refle(5l,  that  according  to  the  heathen  mytho- 
logy, Bacchus  was  the  god  of  wine  ;  wine  is  kept  in  callcs, 
and  therefore  an  empty  cafl^,  or  at  leaft  an  ufelefs  one, 
may  be  called  Bacchus'  call  coat. 

(3)  A  third  enemy  to  fimplicity,  is  an  affedlation  of 
learning  :  This  fpoils  fimplicity  many  ways ;  it  introdu- 
ces terms  of  art,  which  cannot  be  underllood,  but  by  thofe 
who  are  adepts  in  a  particular  branch.  Such  perfons 
have  been  long  expofed  to  ridicule  under  the  name  of 
pedants.  Sometimes  indeed,  the  v/ord  pedantry  has  been 
in  a  manner  confined  to  thofe  addidtedto  claiuc  literature^ 
and  who  intermix  every  thing  they  fay,  with  fcraps  taken 
from  the  learned  languages ;  but  this  is  quite  improper^ 
for  lawyers,  phyficians,  duiices  or  fchoolmallers  are  equally 
ridiculous,  when  they  fill  their  difcourfc  with  words  drawil 
from  their  particular  art. 

(4)  The  only  other  enemy  to  fimplicity  I  fhall  men- 
tion, is  an  ambition  to  excel.  This  perhaps,  Ihould  n6t 
have  been  fo  much  divided  from  the  reft,  as  made  the  great 
principle  from  which  the  reft  proceed.  Nothing  more 
certainly  renders  a  man  ridiculous,  than  an  over  forward- 
nefs  to  difplay  his  excellence  ;  he  is  not  content  with 
plain  things,  and  particularly  with  fuch  things  as  every 
body  might  fay,  becaufe  thefe  would  not  diftinguifh  hinii 

On  the  whole,  as  I  obferved  on  fublimity,  that  ox\q  of  the 
beft  and  furefl  ways  to  attain  it  was  to  think  nobly,  fo  the 
beft  way  to  write  fimply,  is  to  think  fimply,  to  avoid  all  af- 
fectation, to  attempt  to  form  your  manner  of  thinking  to 
a  noble  felf-denial.  A  man  little  folicitous  about  w^hat  peo- 
ple think  of  him,  or  rather  having  his  attention  fixed  upon 
quite  another  purpofe,  viz.  giving  information,  or  produ- 
cing convi6lion,  will  only  attain  to  a  fimple  manner  of 
writing,  and  indeed  he  will  write  beft  in  all  refpedls. 

As  to  the  mixed  Hate  or  manner  of  writing,  as  it 
confifts  of  the  mixture  of  the  other  two,  I  fliall  not  need 
to  fay  any  thing  by  way  of  explaining  it,  but  only  make 


Eloquence.  435, 

a  remark  or  two,  of  the  ufe  and  application  of  it.  The 
mixed  kind  of  writing  chiefly  confiils  of  hiilory  and  con- 
troverfy.  The  great  quality  neceiTary  to  execute  it  pro- 
perly, is  foundnefs  of  judgment,  to  determine  on  what 
lubje£ts,  and  on  what  parts  of  fubjeds  it  is  proper  to  write' 
with  fimplicity,  and  on  what  with  force — One  would  wifli- 
not  to  go  beyond,  but  juft  to  gratify  a  reader's  inclination 
in  this  refpe6t. 

There  are  many  cafes  in  hlftory,  where  the  greatell 
fubliniity  both  of  fentiments  and  language,  is  both  ad- 
mitted and  required,  particularly  all  the  beauty  and  all  the 
force  that  can  be  admitted  into  defcription,  is  of  impor- 
tance in  hiftory.  Thofe  who  will  read  in  Robertfon's 
hiilory  of  Scotland,  the  account  he  gives  of  the  aftonifli-. 
ment,  terror  and  indignation  that  appeared  in  the  En- 
glilh  court,  when  news  was  brought  of  the  malfacre  at 
Paris,  or  in  the  fame  author,  the  account  of  the  execution 
of  Mary  queen  of  Scots,  will  fee  the  force  and  fublimity- 
of  defcription.  The  difference  between  fublimity  of  fen- 
timent  and  language  in  an  hiftorian,  and  in  a  poet  or  ora- 
tor, feems  to  me  to  refemble  the  difference  between  the 
iire  of  a  managed  horfe,  when  reined  in  by  the  rider,  and 
marching  with  a  firm  and  ftately  pace,  and  the  fame  when 
llraining  every  nerve,  in  the  eager  contention  in  a  race. 
We  fliall  enter  a  little  into  this  matter,  if  we  confider  the 
different  images  that  are  made  ufe  of  in  the  different  arts. 
In  poetry  we  fay  a  beautiful,  ff riking,  fhining  metaphor,  * 
fervent,  glowing  imagery.  In  oratory  we  fay  warm,  ani- 
mated, irrefiftible.  In  hiftory  we  ufe  the  words  force, 
noblenefs,  dignity  and  majefty,  particularly  thofe  lafl  attri- 
butes, of  dignity  and  majefty.  Herodotus  has  been  of^ 
ten  called  the  father  of  hiilory,  though  I  confeis  I  appre^- 
hend  he  has  obtained  this  title,  chiefly  becaufe  of  his  an- 
tiquity, and  his  being  the  firft  that  ever  gave  any  thing  of 
a  regular  hiftory  ;  but  though  he  has  fome  things  augufl 
enough,  yet  he  has  admitted  fo  many  incredible  ilories, 
and  even  peculiarities  into  his  work,  as  very  much  de- 
tracts from  its  dignity ;  we  muff  indeed  impute  a  good 
deal  of  this  to  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  and  the  impoffi^ 
bility  of  their  diftinguifliing  truth  from  falfehood,  fo  well 


436  Lectures  on 

as  thofe  of  later  ages,  who  have  had  the  advantage  of  all 
paft  experience. 

Hiftory  indeed,  is  not  only  of  the  mixed  kind  of  writing, 
foas  to  admit  fometimes  rubiimity,and  fometimesfimplici- 
ty,  but  thofe  ftyles  fhould  be  really  blended  together,  in 
every  part  of  it.  The  moil  noble  and  animated  fenti- 
ments,  characters  or  defcriptions  in  hiftory,  fhould  yet  be 
clothed  with  fuch  a  gravity  and  decency  of  garb,  fo  to 
fpeak,  as  to  give  an  air  of  fimplicity  to  the  whole.  It  is 
an  advantage  to  a  poem,  that  the  author  fays  but  little  in 
his  own  perfon,  but  makes  the  characters  fpeak  and  fay 
all ;  and  in  an  orator  it  is  an  advantage,  when  he  can  car- 
ry the  hearers  off  from  himfelf  to  his  fubjedt;  but  above  all, 
an  hiflorian  lliould  not  fo  much  as  wiih  to  fhine,  but  with 
the  coolnefs  of  a  philofopher,  and  the  impartiality  of  a  judge 
ihould  fet  the  a6tors  and  tranfa6tions  before  the  reader. 

Controverfy  is  another  fubjedt  of  the  mixed  kind,  which 
ought  to  be  in  general  v/ritten  with  fimplicity,  yet  will 
fometimes  admit  of  the  ornaments  of  eloquence  :  of  this 
I  fliall  fpeak  a  little  more  afterwards,  and  therefore  fhall 
now  only  add,  that  controverfy  differs  from  hiltory,  in 
that  it  fometimes  admits  of  paflion  and  warmth,  when 
there  feems  to  be  a  fufficient  foundation  laid  for  it,  a  con- 
troverfial  writer  will  endeavor  to  intereil  his  reader,  and 
excite  either  contempt  or  indignation  againft  his  adverfary, 
.  After  having  given  you  this  view  of  the  three  great 
kinds  of  writing,  or  as  they  are  fometimes  called  different 
ffyles,  it  may  not  be  amifs  to  obferve,  that  there  are  dif- 
tinilitions  of  ilyle,  which  it  is  proper  that  an  able  writer 
lliould  obferve,  that  do  not  range  themfelves,  at  lead  not 
fully  and  properly,  under  thefe  three  heads,  but  may  be 
faid  to  run  through  all  the  kinds  of  eloquence. 

Many  eminent  authors  have  faid,  that  the  climates  have 
fome  effect  upon  the  ilyle;  that  in  the  warmer  countries 
the  ilyle  is  more  animated,  and  the  figures  more  bold  and 
glowing  :  and  nothing  is  more  common,  than  to  afcribe 
a  peculiarity  of  ityle,  and  that  particularly  elevated  and 
full  of  metaphor,  to  the  orientals,  as  it  belonged  to  that 
part  of  the  globe  ;  but  if  I  am  not  millaken,  both  this  and 
Other  things,  fuch  as  courage,  that  have  been  attributed  to 
the  climate,  belong  either  not  to  the  climate  at  all,  or  in 


^  Eloquence,  43  7 

21  fmall  meafure,  and  are  rather  owing  to  the  flate  of  focl- 
ety  and  manners  of  men.  We  have  before  had  occafion 
to  fee  that  all  narrow  languages  are  figured.  In  a  ftate, 
where  there  are  few  or  no  abllradl:  ideas,  how  lliould  there 
be  abftracl  terms.  If  any  body  will  read  the  poem  of 
Fingal,  which  appears  to  have  been  compofed  on  the 
bleak  hills  of  the  north  of  Scotland,  he  will  find  as  many 
figures  and  as  bold,  as  in  any  thing  compofed  in  Arabia 
or  Perfia.  The  flate  of  fociety  then,  is  what  gives  a  par- 
ticular color  to  the  ftyle,  and  by  this  the  fiyles  of  different 
jiges  and  countries  are  diftinguifhed — that  the  climate  does 
but  little,  may  be  {ttw  juii:  by  comparing  ancient  and 
modern  Italy ;  what  difference  between  the  flrength  and 
force  of  the  ancient  Latin  tongue,  and  the  prefent  Italian 
language,  in  the  exprefTion  of  fentiments  ;  it  mufl  there- 
fore vary  with  fentiments  and  manners  ;  and  what  dif- 
ference between  the  flern  and  inflexible  bravery  of  a 
free  ancient  Roman,  and  the  effeminate  foftnefs  of  a  m.o- 
dern  Italian  ;  yet  they  breathed  the  fame  air,  and  were 
nurfed  by  the  fame  foil.  I  will  jufi:  go  a  little  off  from 
the  fubject  to  fay,  that  a  very  late  author,  (Lord  Kaime) 
feems  to  think  that  the  courage  of  mankind  is  go- 
verned by  the  climates :  he  fays  that  the  northern  cli- 
mates produce  hardened  conftitutions,  and  bold  and  firm 
minds  ;  that  invafions  have  been  made  from  north  to 
ibuth  :  but  I  apprehend,  he  may  be  miffaken  here  both  in 
his  fafts,  and  the  reafons  of  them — Invafions  have  not  al- 
ways been  made  from  north  to  fouth  ;  for  the  Roman 
arms  penetrated  very  far  to  the  north  of  their  territory  ; 
the  firfl  great  conquerors  of  the  eafl,  in  Egypt  and  Baby- 
lon, carried  their  arms  to  the  north  :  and  where  the  con- 
quell  ran  the  other  way,  it  was  owing  to  other  circum- 
flances  ;  and  Dean  Swift  fays  much  nearer  the  truth,  it 
was  from  poverty  to  plenty^ 

The  defign  of  this  digrefTion  is  to  fhow,  that  not  only 
the  circumflances  that  appear  in  a  language,  but  feveral 
others  that  have  alfo  been  attributed  to  climate,  owe  very 
little  to  it,  but  to  the  ftate  of  mankind  and  the  progrefs 
of  fociety.     The  maxim  of  that  great  modern  wTiter, 


43?  Lectures  on 

Montefqieu,  which  he  applies  to  population,  is  alfo  true 
of  language — That  natural  cauies  are  not  by  far  fo  pow- 
erful as  moral  caufes.  Allowing,  therefore,  as  Ibme 
have  affirmed  that  the  northern  climates  may  give  a 
roughnefs  and  harfhnefs  to  the  accent  and  pronunciation, 
I  believe  it  is  all  that  we  can  expert  from  climate ;  the 
diilini^ion  of  ftyles  and  compofition  mull  come  from  an- 
©ther  original. 


LECTURE   X. 

AVING  in  a  great  meafure  rejeded  the  fuppofition 
of  the  llyle  in  writing  being  affected  by  the  climate, 
and  Ihown  that  it  rather  takes  its  colour  from  the  ftate  of 
fociety,  and  the  ientiments  and  manners  of  men,  it  follows 
that  all  the  great  diftindlions  that  take  place  in  manners 
will  have  a  correfpondent  eiFecl  upon  language  fpoken  or 
written.  When  the  manners  of  a  people  are  little  po- 
lifhed,  there  is  a  plainnefs  or  a  roughnefs  in  the  flyle. 
Abfolute  monarchies,  and  the  obfequious  fubjeftion  intro- 
duced at  the  courts  of  princes,  occafions  a  pompous  fweL 
ling  and  compliment  to  be  in  requefl  different  from  the 
boldnefs  and  fometimes  ferocity  of  republican  ftates. 

Seneca  in  remarking  upon  the  Roman  language,  fays. 
Genus  dicendi  mutatur  publicos  mores,  &c.  This  he  ex- 
emplifies in  the  Roman  language,  which  was  fliort  and 
dry  in  the  earlieft  ages,  afterwards  become  elegant  and 
ornate,  and  at  laft  loofe  and  diffufe. 

The  llyle  of  an  age  alfo  is  fometimes  formed  by  fome  one 
or  more  eminent  perfons^  who,  having  obtained  reputa- . 
tion,  every  thing  peculiar  to  them  is  admired  and  copied, 
and  carried  much  into  excefs.  Seneca  has  remarked  this 
alfo,  that  commonly  one  author  obtains  the  palm,  and 
becomes  the  model,  and  all  copy  him.  Haec  vitia  nnuia. 
aliquis  inducit.  And  he  gives  a  very  good  example  of^ 
it,  of  which  we  may  now  judge  in  Sallufl.  He  alio  very? 
properly  obfevves,  that  all  the  faults  that  arife  from  imi- 


Eloquence^  439 

tati on  become  worfe  in  the  imitator  than  in  the  exam- 
pie.  Thus  reproving  the  fault  jull  now  mentioned  in 
our  anceftors. 

It  is  remarkable  that  Seneca  himfelf  was  another  ex- 
ample of  the  fame  thing.  His  manner  of  writing,  which 
is  peculiar,  came  to  be  the  ftandard  of  the  age.  His  man* 
ner  has  been  called  by  critics,  point  and  antithefis.  A 
ihort  fentence  containing  a  ilrong  fentiment,  or  a  beauti- 
ful one,  as  it  were  like  a  maxim  by  itfelf.  For  an  example 
or  two  of  this  ;  to  exprefs  the  deftruclion  of  Lyons  he  fays, 
Logdunum  quod  oilandebatur,  &c.  That  Lyons,  which 
was  formerly  fhown,  is  now  fought.  And  on  the  fame 
fubjedl — Una  nox,  &c.  There  was  but  one  night  be- 
tween a  great  city  and  none,  Qtud  eft  eques  Romanus, 
&c.  What !  is  a  Roman  knight  a  freed  man  or  flave  ! 
names  generated  by  ambition  or  opprefTion. 

The  fault  of  this  fententious  manner  of  writing 
does  not  lie  in  the  particulars  being  blameable,  but  in  the 
repetition  and  uniformity  becoming  tedious — when  every 
paragraph  is  fluffed  v/ith  fentences  and  bright  fayings,  ge- 
nerally having  the  fame  tune,  it  wearies  the  ear.  The 
mofl  remarkable  book  in  the  Englifli  language  for  putting 
continual  fmartnefs  fentence  and  antithefis  for  elegance, 
is  the  Gentleman  Inflru^ted.  I  fliall  read  you  one  para- 
graph— The  misfortune  of  one  breathes  vigor  into  the 
others  :  They  carry  on  manfully  the  attack — Their  heads 
run  round  with  the  glafles.  Their  tongues  ride  pofl. 
Their  wits  are  jaded.  Their  reafon  is  diilanced.  Brutes 
could  not  talk  better,  nor  men  worfe.  Like  Ikippers 
in  a  ftorm,  they  rather  hallowed  than  fpoke.  Scarce  one 
heard  his  neighbor,  and  not  one  underftood  him ;  fo  that 
noife  flood  for  fenle,  and  every  one  pafTed  for  a  virtuofo, 
becaufe  all  played  the  fool  to  extravagance. 

1  fliall  not  enlarge  much  farther  upon  the  difference 
of  flyle  ariiing  from  the  charadler  of  an  age,  as  in  the 
ages  before  the  reformation,  called  the  times  of  chivalry, 
when  military  prowefs  was  the  great  thing  in  requefl— i 
their  gallantry  and  heroifm  were  to  be  feen  in  every  writer. 
—At  the  ttme  of   the  reformation   and  the  revival,  of 


440  Lectures  on 

learning,  tlieir  citations  of  the  ancient  writers  and  allafi- 
ons  to  the  claiTic  phrafes  diflinguiflied  every  author.  In 
the  age  of  the  civil  wars  in  England,  of  which  religion 
v/as  fo  much  the  caufe,  allufjons  to  fmgular  expreffions, 
and  theological  opinions,  are  every  where  to  be  met  with, 
of  which  the  great  Milton  is  an  example. 

But  there  is  another  diftin6lion  of  flyies,  which  id 
chiefly  perfonal,  and  wdii  difringuifli  one  author  from 
another,  in  the  fame  age,  and  perhaps  of  the  fame  or* 
nearly  the  fame  abilities.  There  are  feveral  different 
epithets  given  to  \\y\t  in  our  language,  which  I  Ihall 
mention  in  a  certain  order,  which  I  fuppofe  will  contri* 
bute  fomething  to  explain  the  meaning  of  them.  We 
call  a  ftyle,  fmiple  or  plain,  fmooth,  fvveet,  concife,  ele- 
gant, ornate,  juft,  nervous,  chafle,  fevere.  Thefe  are 
all  different  epithets  which  v/iil  each  of  them  convey  to 
a  nice  critical  ear,  fomethiag  different,  though  I  confefs 
it  is  not  eafy  to  define  them  clearly  or  explain  them  ful- 
ly. Plainnefs  and  fimplicity  is  when  the  author  does 
not  feem  to  have  had  any  thing  in  view,  but  to  be  under- 
flood,  and  that  by  perfons  of  the  weakeff  underftanding. 
That  ought  to  be  in  view  in  many  WTitings,  and  indeed 
perfpicuity  will  be  found  to  be  a  character  of  many  ftyles, 
when  there  are  other  great  qualities,  but  we  call  that 
plain  and  funple,  when  there  is  no  difcovery  of  litera- 
ture, and  no  attempt  at  the  pathetic.  ScougaPs  Life  of 
God  in  the  foul  of  man,  and  Dr.  Evans'  Sermons,  are 
admirable  patterns  of  this  manner.  (2)  I  would  call 
that  a  fmooth  flyle,  when  the  utmoft  care  had  been  taken 
to  meafure  the  periods,  and  to  confult  the  ear  on  the 
flrud-ure  of  the  fentence  ;  for  this  I  know  no  author 
more  remarkable  than  Hervey,  in  his  Meditations.  (3) 
Sweetnefs  feems  to  me  to  differ  from  the  former  only  in 
that  the  fubjec^ts  and  the  images  are  generally  of  a  pleaf- 
ing  or  footliing  nature,  fach  as  may  particularly  be  {^tn 
in  Mrs.  Rowe's  Letters  ;  perhaps  alfo  in  a  more  modern 
compofition  by  a  lady,  Lady  Mary  \V.  Montague's  Let' 
tcrs.  And  indeed  v\/hen  female  authors  have  excelled, 
they  generally  do  excel  in  fweetnefs.     (4)  The  next  ia 


Eloquence.  441: 

toncifenefs.  This  is  eafily  undcrflood,  it  is  juft  as  much 
brevity  as  is  confident  with  perfpecuity.  It  is  a  beauty 
in  every  writing  when  other  quahties  ar?  not  hurt  by  it. 
But  it  is  peculiarly  proper  for  critical  or  fcientific 
writing,  becaufe  there  we  do  not  fo  much  expect  or 
vvant  to  know  the  author^s  fentiments,  but  as  foon  as 
polTible  to  learn  the  fads,  to  underhand  them  fully, 
and  range  them  methodically.  There  are  many  more 
authors  who  excell  in  this  refpedl  in  the  French,  than 
in  the  Englifh  language.  Not  only  the  fcientific  wri- 
tings, but  even  political  and  moral  writings  are  drawn 
up  by  them  with  great  concifenefs.  There  cannot  be  grea- 
ter concifenefs  than  in  Montefquieu's  Spirit  of  Laws* 
Brown's  Eftimate  of  the  manners  and  principles  of  the 
times,  feems  to  be  an  imitation  of  that  author,  in  his 
manner.  In  eflay  writing,  David  Hume  feems  to  have 
as  happily  joined  concifenefs  and  perfpicuity  as  moft  of 
our  Englifli  writers.  Some  pious  writers  have  been  as 
fuccefsful  this  way  as  molt  of  our  nation  ;  fuch  as  Ma- 
fon's  Sayings,  and  Mafon  on  Self-knowledge.  (5)  A 
ityle  is  called  el&gant  when  it  is  formed  by  the  principles 
of  true  tafte,  and  much  pains  is  taken  to  ufc  the  beft 
and  pareft  expreflions  that  the  language  will  afford.  It 
is  very  common  to  join  together  eafe  and  elegance.  The 
great  patterns  we  have  of  thefe  are  Addifon  and  Tillot- 
fon.  Seed's  Sermons  too  may  be  mentioned  here,  as  very 
much  excelling  in  both  thefe  qualities;  fo  alfo  does 
David  Hume.  The  other  Hume,  author  of  the  Elements 
of  Criticifm,  though  a  very  good  judge  of  writing,  feems 
in  point  of  ftyle  to  be  very  defective  himfelf.  If  he  has 
any  talent  it  is  concifenefs  and  plainnefs  ;  but  he  is  at 
the  fame  time  often  abrupt  and  harfli.  (6)  An  ornate 
ftyle  may  be  faid  to  be  fomething  more  than  elegant,  in- 
troducing into  a  compofition  all  the  beauties  of  language, 
where  they  can  find  a  place  vv^ith  propriety.  I  mention- 
ed before,  that  Hervey's  (tyle  in  liis  Meditations,  was  ex- 
ceedingly fmooth  and  flowing.  I  may  add  it  has  alfo 
the  qualities  of  elegant  and  ornate.  That  dyle  is  ele- 
gant which  is  correct  and  free  from  faults  ;  that  is  ornate 
whieh  abounds  with  beauties.  (7)  The  next  charaQer 
Vol.  III.  3  K 


44^  Lectures  on 

of  ftyle,  Is  that  it  is  jufl.  By  this  I  underftancl,  a  par- 
ticular attention  to  the  truth  and  meaning  of  every  ex- 
prefllon.  Juitnefr.  is  frequently  joined  with,  or  other- 
v/ife  exprefsed  by  precifion  ;  fo  that  (if  I  may  fpeak  fo) 
together  with  a  tafte  which  will  relifli  and  produce  an  ele- 
gance of  language,  there  is  a  judgment  and  accuracy 
which  will  abide  the  fcrutiny  of  philofophy  and  criticifm. 
Many  well  turned  periods  and  fliowy  expreffions  will 
be  found  defedlive  here.  This  juftnefs  of  ilyle  is  fcarce- 
ly  ever  found  without  clearnefs  of  underflanding,  fo  that 
it  appears  in  accuracy  of  method,  in  the  whole  difcourfe  as 
well  as  in  the  ilyle  of  particular  parts.  Dr.  Samuel  Clark 
was  a  great  example  of  this.  He  was  one  of  thofe  few  ma- 
thematicians who  were  good  writers,  and  while  he  did 
not  lofe  the  life  and  fervor  of  the  orator,  preferved  the 
precifion  of  the  natural  philofopher.  (8)  Nervous  or 
ftrong  is  the  next  character  of  ilyle,  and  this  implies  that 
in  which  the  author  does  not  wholly  negletl,  elegance  and 
precifion.  But  he  is  much  more  attentive  to  dignity  and 
jforce.  A  ftyle  that  is  very  ftrong  and  nervous,  might  often- 
receive  a  little  additional  polifli  by  a  few  more  epithets 
or  copulatives,  but  cannot  defcend  to  fuch  minutenefs. 
It  is  a  fine  expreffion  of  Richard  Baxter,  upon  (iylt, 
^'  May  I  fpeak  plainly  and  pertinently,  and  fomewhat 
"  nervoully,  I  have  my  purpofe."  Baxter  was  a  great 
example  of  a  nervous  ilyle,  with  great  negledl  of  ele- 
gance, and  Dean  Swift  is  an  illuilrious  example  of  the 
fame  fort  of  didlion,  with  a  very  confiderable  attention 
to  elegance.  Both  the  one  and  the  other  feemto  write  ip  the 
fullnefs  of  their  hearts,  and  to  me  without  fcruple  thofe;^erms 
are  commonly  beil  that  firil  prefent  themlelves  to  a  fertile 
invention  and  warm  imagination,  without  waiting  tochoofe 
in  their  room  thofe  that  might  be  more  fmooth  or  ibnor- 
ous  but  lefs  emphatic.  (9)  Chaftity  of  fiyle  I  think 
Hands  particularly  oppofed  to  any  embellifhments  that  are 
not  natural,  and  neceifary.  Nay,  we  generally  mean 
by  a  very  chafte  writer,  one  who  does  not  admit  even  all 
the  ornaments  that  he  might,  and  what  ornaments  he 
does  admit  are  always  of  the  moil  decent  kind,  and  tha 
moft  properly  executed.     (10)  Severity  of  ilyle  has  thi* 


Eloquence,  443 

title  only,  by  way  of  comparifon.  That  is  a  fevere 
llyle  which  has  propriety,  elegance  and  force,  bat  feems 
rather  to  be  above  and  to  difdain  the  ornaments  which 
every  body  elfe  would  approve,  and  the  greateft  part  of 
readers  would  defire, 


LECTURE    XI. 

E  come  now  to  the  third  general  head,  which, 
was  to  fpeak  of  oratory  as  it  is  divided  into  the 
feveral  parts  which  conftitute  the  art.  Thefe  have  been 
generally  the  follov/ing,  invention,  difpofition,  llyle  dr 
compofition,  pronunciation,  including  gellure. 

I.  Invention.  This  is  nothing  elfe  but  finding  out 
the  fentiments  by  which  a  fpeaker  or  writer  would  ex- 
plain what  he  has  to  propofe,  and  the  arguments  by  which 
he  would  enforce  it.  This  fubje6l  is  treated  of,  very 
largely  in  mofl:  of  the  books  of  oratory,  in  which  I  think 
they  judge  very  wrong.  In  by  far  the  greateft  number 
of  cafes,  there  is  no  neceflity  of  teaching  it,  and  where 
it  is  necelFary,  I  believe  it  exceeds  the  power  of  man 
to  teach  it  with  effe£l.  The  very  firft  time  indeed,  that 
a  young  perfon  begins  to  compofe,  the  thing  is  fo  new  to 
him,  that  it  is  apt  to  appear  dark  and  difficult,  and  in  a 
manner  impoffible.  But  as  foon  as  he  becomes  a  little 
accuftomed  to  it,  he  finds  much  more  difficulty  in  feledt- 
ing  what  is  proper,  than  in  inventing  fomething  that 
feems  to  be  tolerable.  There  are  fome  perfons  I  confefs, 
whom  their  own  llupidity,  or  that  of  their  relations, 
forces  to  attempt  public  fpeaking,  who  are  entirely  barren, 
and  not  able  to  bring  out  any  thing  either  good  or  bad ; 
but  this  is  exceedingly  rare,  and  when  it  does  happen,  it 
will  be  fo  burdenfome  to  the  man  himfelf,  that  he  muft 
fpeedily  give  over  the  attempt.  There  are  infinitely  more 
who  have  plenty  of  matter,  fuch  as  it  is,  but  neither 
very  valuable  in  itfelf  nor  clothed  in  proper  language. 
I  think  it  happens  very  generally  that  thofe  who  are  leaft 
^oncife,  and  accurate  are  moft  lengthy  and  voluminous.. 


444  Lectures  on 

I  will  therefore  not  fpend  much  time  npon  invention^ 
leaving  it  to  the  fpontaneoiis  produ6lion  of  capacity  and 
experience  ;  only  obferve  that  it  is  called  a  common  place 
from  whence  you  draw  your  argument.  That  principle 
of  law,  nature,  tafte,  experience,  from  which  you  fetch 
your  topic,  and  apply  it  to  your  particular  cafe,  is  a  com^ 
mon  place  ;  as  for  example,  if  I  want  to  prove  that  a  flri6l 
difcipline  in  a  fociety  is  befl,  I  fay  that  difcipline  which 
will,  in  the  moft  effedual  manner  rellrain  offences  is  cer- 
tainly the  bed  ;  this  is  the  topic  or  common  place. 

It  would  be  needlefs  to  point  out  the  fources  of  inven- 
tion, or  iliow  from  whence  arguments  may  be  drawn,  for 
they  may  be  drawn  from  all  the  charadters  and  qualities 
of  an  action  or  perfon,  and  from  all  the  circumftances  that 
accompany  it.  If  I  mean  to  aggravate  a  crime  or  injury, 
I  fay  it  was  done  deliberately,  obltinately,  repeatedly, 
without  temptation,  againft  many  warnings,  and  much 
kindnefs,  that  its  effedls  are  very  bad  to  a  man's  felf,  to 
others,  to  the  character,  the  perfon,  the  eftate,  &c.  If  I 
want  to  fpeak  in  praife  of  a  free  government,  I  mention 
its  happy  effedts  in  giving  fecurity  and  happinefs,  pro- 
moting induilry,  encouraging  genius,  producing  value  ; 
and  then  I  apply  to  experience,  and  Ihow  the  happinefs 
of  free  fiates,  and  the  mifcry  of  thofe  that  have  been  kept 
in  fxavery  :  but  I  repeat  the  remark,  that  invention  need 
not  be  taught,  anlefs  it  be  to  one  that  never  ytX.  compofed 
a  fentence.  There  have  been  books  of  common  places, 
publifhed,  containing  arguments  and  topics  for  illuftration 
and  even  fimilitudes — fayings  of  the  ancients,  8cc.  but 
they  are  of  very  little  ufe,  unlefs  to  a  perfon  that  has 
no  fund  of  his  own,  and  then  one  that  makes  ufe  of 
them  is  like  a  man  walking  on  ftilts  ;  they  make  him 
look  very  big,  but  he  walks  very  feebly, 

2.  The  next  divifion  of  the  oratorial  art,  is  difpofition  or 
diftribution.  This  is  a  matter  of  the  utmoft  moment,  and 
upon  which  inftrudlion  is  both  necellary  and  ufeful.  By 
difpofition  as  a  part  of  the  oratorial  art,  I  mean  order  in 
general,  in  the  whole  of  a  difcourfe  or  any  kind  of  compo- 
fition,  be  it  what  it  will.  As  to  the  parts  of  which  a  fingle 
fpeech  or  oration  confifts,  they  will  be  afterwards  confider. 


Eloquence,  445 

ed.  Before  T  proceed  to  explain  or  point  out  the  way  to 
attain  good  order,  I  would  jud  mention  a  few  of  its  ex- 
cellencies. 

(i)  Good  order  in  a  difcourfe  gives  light,  and  makes  it 
eafily  underflood.  If  things  are  thrown  together  without 
method,  each  of  them  will  be  lefs  underflood,  and  their 
joint  influence  in  leading  to  a  conclufion,  will  not  be  per- 
ceived. It  is  a  noble  expreffion  of  Horace,  who  calls  it 
lucidus  or  do,  clear  order.  It  is  common  to  fay,  when  we 
hear  a  confufed  difcourfe.  It  had  neither  head  nor  tail,  I 
could  not  underftand  what  he  would  be  at.  (2)  Order  is  ne- 
cefl'ary  to  force,  as  well  as  light ;  this  indeed  is  a  neceffary 
confequence  of  the  other,  for  we  fhall  never  be  perfuaded 
by  what  we  do  npt  underlland.  Very  often  the  force  of 
reafoning  depends  upon  the  united  influence  of  feveral 
dillind  proportions,  if  they  are  ranged  in  a  juft  order, 
they  will  all  have  their  effect,  and  fupport  one  another  ;  if 
otherwife,  it  will  be  like  a  number  of  men  attempting  to 
raife  a  weight,  and  one  pulling  at  one  time,  and  another 
at  another,  which  will  do  juft  nothing,  but  if  all  exert  their 
power  at  once,  it  will  be  eafily  overcome. 

(3)  Order  is  alfo  ufeful  for  affifting  memory.  Order 
is  neceffary  even  in  a  difcourfe  that  is  to  have  a  tranfient 
effect,  but  if  any  thing  is  intended  to  produce  a  lafting 
conviction, and  to  have  a  daily  influence,  it  is  flill  more  ne- 
ceffary. When  things  are  difpofed  in  a  proper  order,  the 
fame  concatenation  that  is  in  the  difcourfe,  takes  place  in 
the  memory,  fo  that  when  one  thing  is  remembered,  it  im- 
mediately brings  to  remembrance  what  has  an  eafy  and 
obvious  connection  with  it.  The  affociation  of  ideas 
linked  together  by  any  tie,  is  very  remarkable  in  our  con- 
flitution,  and  is  fuppofed  to  take  place  from  fome  im- 
preffion  made  upon  the  brain.  If  we  have  feen  two  per- 
fons  bat  once,  and  feen  them  both  at  the  fame  time  only, 
or  at  the  fame  place  only,  the  remembrance  of  the  one 
can  hardly  be  feparated  from  the  other.  I  may  alfo  il- 
luftrate  the  fubjedt  by  another  plain  inftance.  Suppofe  I 
defire  a  perfon  going  to  a  city,  to  do  three  or  four  things 
for  me,  that  are  wholly  unconnected,  as  to  deliver  a  letter 
^0  one  perfon — to  vifit  ^  friend  pf  mine,  and  to  bring  me 


446  Lectures  on 

notice  how  he  is — tobuy  a  certain  book  for  me  if  he  can  find 
it — and  to  fee  whether  any  fhip  be  to  fail  for  Britrdn  foon, 
it  is  very  poflible  he  may  remember  fome  of  them,  and  for- 
get the  others  ;  but  if  I  defire  him  to  buy  me  a  dozen  of 
filver  fpoons,  to  carry  them  to  an  engraVer  to  put  my  name 
upon  them,  and  get  a  cafe  to  put  them  in,  if  he  remem- 
bers one  article,  it  is  likely  he  will  remember  all  of  them. 
Jt  is  one  of  the  beft  evidences  that  a  difcourfe  has  been 
compofed  with  diftindnefs  and  accuracy,  if  after  you  go 
away  you  can  remember  a  good  deal  of  it ;  but  there  are 
fometimes  difcourfes  which  are  pompous  and  declamatory, 
and  which  you  hear  with  plealbre,  and  fome  fort  of  ap- 
probation, but  if  you  attempt  to  recolle6l  the  truths  ad- 
vanced, or  the  arguments  in  fupport  of  them,  there  is  not 
a  trace  of  them  to  be  found. 

(4)  Order  conduces  alio  very  much  to  beauty.  Order 
is  never  omitted  when  nien  give  the  principles  of  beauty, 
andconfufion  is  difguftful  jud  on  its  own  account,  what- 
ever the  nature  of  the  cenfufed  things  may  be.  If  you 
were  to  fee  a  vail  heap  of  fine  furniture  of  different  kinds, 
lying  in  confafion,  you  could  neither  perceive  half  {o  dif- 
tinftly  what  was  there,  nor  could  it  at  all  have  fuch  aneffe6l, 
as  if  every  thing  was  difpofed  in  a  jufl  order,  and  placed 
where  it  ought  to  ftand ;  nay,  a  much  fmaller  quantity 
elegantly  difpofed,  would  exceed  in  grandeur  of  appear- 
ance a  heap  of  the  mod  coilly  things  in  nature, 

(5)  Order  is  alfo  necefTary  to  brevity.  A  confufed 
-difcourfe  is  almofi:  never  fhort,  and  is  always  filled  with 
repetitions.  It  is  with  thought  in  this  refpeft,  as  with 
things  vifible,  for  to  return  to  the  former  fimilitude,  A 
confufed  heap  of  goods  or  furniture  fills  much  more  room 
-than  when  it  is  ranged  and  clalfed  in  its  proper  order,  and 
every  thing  carried  to  its  proper  place. 

Having  ihown  the  excellence  of  precifion  and  method, 
let  us  next  try  to  explain  what  it  is,  and  that  I  may  have 
fome  regard  to  method  while  I  am  fpeaking  of  the  very 
fubje(^l:,  I  ihall  take  it  in  three  lights,  (i)  There  muflbe 
an  attention  to  order  in  the  difpofition  of  the  whole  piece. 
Whatever  the  parts  be  in  themfelves,  they  have  a]fo 
.a  relation  to  one  another,  and  to  the  whole  body,  (if  I 


Eloquence^  44/ 

may  fpeak  fo)  that  ^they  are  to  compofe.  Every  work, 
be  it  what  it  will,  hiflory,  epic  poem,  dramatic  poem^ 
oration,  epiftle,  or  efiay,  is  to  be  confidered  as  a  whole^ 
and  a  clearnefs  of  judgment  in  point  of  method,  will  de- 
cide the  place  and  proportion  of  the  feveral  parts  of 
which  they  are  compofed.  The  loofefi:  efTay,  or  where 
form  is  leail  profell'ed  or  fludied,  ought  yet  to  haie' 
fome  fliape  as  a  whole,  and  we  may  fay  of  i^:,  that  it  be- 
gins abruptly  or  ends  abruptly,  or  fome  of  the  parts  are 
mifplaced.  There  are  often  to  be  feen  pieces  in  which 
good  things  are  faid,  and  well  faid,  and  have  only  this 
fault  that  they  are  unfeafonable  and  out  of  place.  Ho-» 
race  fays  in  his  art  of  poetry,  what  is  equally  applicable 
to  every  fort  of  compofition,  "  Denique  fit  quid  vis  fmi- 
*'  plex  duntaxit  et  unum,"  and  fnortly  after  "  In  felix 
"  opus  fumma  quis    ponere  totum  nefcit." 

This  judgment  in  planning  the  whole  will  particularly 
enable  a  perfon  to  determine  both  as  to  the  place  and 
proportion  of  the  particular  parts,  whether  they  be  not 
only  good  inthemfelves,  but  lit  to  be  introduced  in  fuch 
a  work,  and  it  vAW  alfo  (if  I  may  fpeak  ^o)  give  a  colour 
to  the  whole  compofition.  The  neceffity  of  order  in  the 
whole  llru6lure  of  a  piece  fhows  that  the  rule  is  good 
which  is  given  by  fome,  that  an  orator  before  he  begin 
his  difcourfe,  fliould  concentrate  the  fubje£l  as  it  were, 
and  reduce  it  to  one  fmgle  propofition,  either  exprefled 
or  at  leaf!  conceived  in  his  mind*  Every  thing  fliould 
grow  out  of  this  as  its  root,  if  it  be  in  another  principle  ta 
be  explained,  or  refer  to  this  as  its  end  if  it  be  a  point 
to  be  gained  by  perfuafion.  Having  thus  Hated  the  point 
clearly  to  be  handled  it  will  afford  a  fort  of  criterion 
whether  any  thing  adduced  is  proper  or  improper.  It 
will  fuggell  the  topics  that  are  jull  and  fuitable,  as  well 
as  enable  us  to  reject  v/hatever  is  in  fubilance.im proper, 
or  in  fize  difproportionate  to  the  defign.  Agreeably  to 
this  principle,  I  think  that  not  only  the  fubjefl:  of  a  fmgle 
difcourfe  fliould  be  reduceable  to  one  propofition,  but  the 
general  divifions  or  principal  heads  fhould  not  be  many  in 
luimber.  A  great  number  of  general  heads  both  bur- 
dens the  memory,  and  breaks  the  unity  of  the   fubjedt, 


443  Lectures  on 

and  carries  the  idea  of  feveral  little  difcourfes  joined  toge» 
thcr,  or  to  follow  after  one  another. 

2.  Order  is  neceffary  in  the  fubdivifions  of  a  fubje6t, 
or  the  way  of  dating  and  niarfhalling  of  the  feveral  por- 
tions of  any  general  head.  This  is  applicable  to  all 
kinds  of  compofition,  and  all  kinds  of  oratory,  fermons^ 
law  pleadings,  fpeeches.  There  is  always  a  divifion  of 
the  parts,  as  well  as  of  the  whole,  either  exprefled  for- 
mally and  numerically,  or  fuppofed,  though  fupprelTed. 
And  it  is  as  much  here  as  any  where,  that  the  confufion 
of  inaccurate  writers  and  fpeakers  appears.  It  is  always 
neceffary  to  have  fome  notion  of  the  whole  of  a  piece, 
and  the  larger  divifions  being  more  bulky,  fo  to  fpeak,  dif- 
pofitionin  them  is  more  eafdy  perceived,  but  in  thefmal- 
ler,  both  their  order  and  fize  is  in  danger  of  being  lefs 
attended  to.  Obferve,  therefore,  that  to  be  accurate  and 
juft,  the  fubdivifions  of  any  compofition,  fuch  I  mean  as 
are  (for  example)  introduced  in  a  numerical  feries,  i,  2,  3, 
Sec.  fhould  have  the  following  properties  :  (i.)  They 
fhould  be  clear  and  plain.  Every  thing  indeed  fliould  be 
clear  as  far  as  he  can  make  it,  but  precifion  and  diiHn<5l- 
nefs  fliould  efpecially  appear  in  the  fubdivifions,  juft  as 
the  bounding  lines  of  countries  in  a  map.  For  this  reafon 
the  firft  part  of  a  fubdivifion  fhould  be  like  a  fliort  defi- 
nition, and  when  it  can  be  done,  it  is  beft  expreffed  in  a 
iingle  term  ;  for  example,  in  giving  the  charaQer  of  a 
man  of  learning,  I  may  propofe  to  fpeak  of  his  genius, 
his  erudition,  his  induftry  or  application. 

(2.)  They  fhould  be  truly  di Hindi ;  that  is,  every  body 
Ihould  perceive  that  they  are  really  different  from  one  an- 
other, not  in  phrafe  or  word  only,  but  in  fentiment.  If  you 
praife  a  man  firft  for  his  judgment,  and  then  for  his  under- 
ilanding,  they  are  either  altogether  or  fo  nearly  the  fame, 
or  fo  nearly  allied,  as  not  to  require  diftindlion.  I  have 
heard  a  minifter  on  John  xvii.  11.  Holy  Father,  &c.  In 
fhowing  hov\^  God  keeps  his  people,  fays,  (i)  He  keeps 
their  feet.  He  fliall  keep  thy  feet  from  falling.  (2.)  He 
keeps  their  way.  Thou  flialt  keep  him  in  all  his  ways. 
Now,  it  is  plain  that  thefe  are  not  two  different  things, 
but  two  metaphors  for  the  fame  thing.     This  indeed  was 


Eloquence*  445^ 

ikulty  alfo  in  another  refpeft  ;  for  a  metaphor  ought  not 
to  make  a  divifion  at  all. 

(3.)  Sub-divifions  fhould  be  neceflary ;  that  is  to  fay 
taking  the  word  in  the  loofe  and  popular  fenfe,  the  fubjeft 
Ihould  feem  to  demand  them.  To  multiply  divifions, 
even  where  they  may  be  made  really  diftinct,  is  tedious, 
and  difguftful,  unlefs  where  they  are  of  ufe  and  impor- 
tance to  our  clearly  comprehending  the  meaning,  or  feel- 
ing the  force  of  what  is  faid.  If  a  perfon  in  the  map  of  a 
country  ihould  give  a  different  colour  to  every  three 
miles,  though  the  equality  of  the  proportion  would  make 
the  divifion  clear  enough,  yet  it  would  appear  difguftingly 
fuperiiuous.  In  writing  the  hiflory  of  an  eminent  per- 
fon's  life,  to  divide  it  into  fpaces  of  10  years,  perhaps 
would  make  the  view  of  the  whole  more  exadl ;  but  to 
divide  it  intofmgle  years  or  months,  would  be  finical  and 
difagreeable.  The  increafe  of  divifions  leads  almofl  una- 
voidably into  tedioufnefs. 

(4.)  Sub-divifions  Ihould  be  co-ordinate  ;  that  is  to  fay, 
thofe  that  goon  in  a  feries,  i,  2,  3,  &:c.  Ihould  be  as  near 
as  poffible  fimilar,  or  of  the  fame  kind.  This  rule  is 
tranfgreffed  when  either  the  things  mentioned  are  wholly 
different  in  kind,  or  when  they  include  one  another. 
This  will  be  well  perceived  if  we  confider  how  a  man 
would  defcribe  a  fenfible  fubje^t,  a  country  for  example ; 
New-Jerfey  contains  (i)  Middlefex.  (2)  Somerfet  coun- 
ty. (3)  The  townfliips  of  Princeton  (4)  Morris  county. 
So,  if  one  in  defcribing  the  chara6ler  of  a  real  Chriflian, 
fhould  fay,  faith,  holinefs,  charity,  juflice,  temperance, 
patience,  this  would  not  do,  becaufe  holinefs  includes 
juftice,  &c.  When,  therefore,  it  feems  neceffary  to  men- 
tion different  particulars  that  cannot  be  made  co-ordinate 
they  fliould  be  made  fubordinate. 

(^.)  Sub-divifions  ihould  be  complete,  and  exhaufl  the 
fubjeft.  This  indeed  is  common  to  all  divifions,  but  is 
of  moil  importance  here,  where  it  is  moft  neglected.  It 
may  be  faid,  perhaps,  how  can  we  propofe  to  exhaufl  any 
fubje<St  ?  By  making  the  divifions  fuitable,  particularly  in 
point  of  comprehenfion,  to  the  nature  of  the  fubjedt ;  as  an 
example,  and  to  miake  ufe  of  the  image  before  introduced 
Vol.  III.  3  L 


45  o  Lectures  on 

of  giving  an  account  of  a  country — I  may  fa^^,  the 
province  of  New-Jerfey  confifls  of  two  parts,  Eall  and 
Weft  Jerfey.  If  I  fay  it  confifts  of  the  counties  of  So- 
naerfet,  &c.  I  muft  continue  till  I  have  enumerated  all 
the  counties,  other  wife  the  divifion  is  not  complete.  In 
the  fame  manner  in  public  fpeaking,  ov  any  other  com- 
pofition,  whatever  divifion  is  made,  it  is  not  legitimate  if 
it  does  not  include  or  exhauft  the  whole  fiibjeft,  which 
may  be  done,  let  it  be  ever  fo  great.  For  example  :  true 
religion  may  be  divided  various  ways,  fo  as  to  include 
the  whole.  I  may  fay,  that  it  confifts  of  our  duty  to  God, 
our  neighbor  and  ourfelves — or  I  may  make  but  tv/o,  our 
duty  to  God  and  man,  and  divide  the  laft  into  two  fubordi- 
iiatc  heads,  our  neighbor,  and  ourfelves — or  I  may  fay,  it 
conftfts  of  faith  and  practice — or  that  it  confifts  of  two 
parts,  a  right  frame  and  temper  of  mind,  and  a  good  life 
and  converfation. 

(6.)  Laftly,  the  fub-divifions  of  any  fubjedl  fhould  be 
conne&d,  or  fhould  be  taken  in  a  feries  or  order  if  they 
v/ill  poffibly  admit  oi  it.  In  fome  moral  and  intelle(5lual 
fubje^ts  it  may  not  be  eafy  to  find  any  feries  or  natural 
order,  as  in  an  enumeration  of  virtues,  juftice,  temper- 
ance and  fortitude.  Patience  perhaps  might  as  well  be  enu- 
merated in  any  other  order  ;  yet  there  is  often  an  order 
that  will  appear  natural,  and  the  inverfion  of  it  unnatural 
— as  we  may  fay,  injuries  are  done  many  ways  to  a  man's 
.perfon,  charadler  and  pofleflions.  Love  to  others  in- 
cludes the  relation  of  family,  kindred,  citizens,  country- 
men, fellow-creatures. 

(3.)  In  the  laft  place  there  is  alfo  an  order  to  be  obferv- 
ed  in  the  fentiments  which  makes  the  illuftration  or  am- 
plification of  the  divifions  of  a  difcourfe.  This  order  is 
never  exprefled  by  numerical  divifions,  yet  it  is  of  great 
importance,  and  its  beauty  and  force  will  be  particularly 
felt.  It  is,  if  I  may  fpeak  fo,  of  a  finer  and  more  deli- 
cate nature  than  any  of  the  others,  more  various,  and 
harder  to  explain.  I  once  have  faid,  that  all  reafoning 
is  of  the  nature  of  a  fyllogifm,  which  lays  down  princi- 
ples, makes  comparifons,  and  draws  the  conclufion.  But 
we  muft  particularly  guard  againft  letting  the  uniformity 


iLloqucncc,  451 

and  formality  of  a  fylloglfm  appear.     In  general,  what- 
ever eftablifhes  any  connection,  fo  that  it  makes  the  \tvi- 
timents  give  rife  to  one  another  is  the  occafion  of  order — 
fometimes  necefHty  and  utility  point  out  the  order  as  a 
good  meafare — As  in  telling  a  llory,  grave  or  humorous 
you  mufl  begin  by  defcribinj^  the   perfons  concerned, 
mentioning  juft  as  many  circumftances  of  their  charaQer 
and  fituation  as  are  neceilary  to  make  us  underfland  the 
feds  to  be  afterwards  related.  Sometimes  the  fenfible  ideas 
of  time  and  place  fuggcft  an  order,  not  only  in  hiftori- 
>cal  narrations  and  in  law  pleadings,  which  relate  to  facts, 
but  in  drawing  of  chara6lers,  defcribing  the  progrefs  and 
effedls  of  virtue  and  vice,  and  even   in  other   fubje6ts, 
where  the  connedlion  between  thofe  ideas  and  the  thing 
fpoken  of,  is  not  very  ftrong. — Sometimes,  and  indeed 
generally,  there  is  an  order  which  proceeds  from  things 
plain  to  things  obfcure.     The  beginning  of  a  paragraph 
ihould  be  like  the  fharp  point  of  a  wedge,  which  gains 
admittance  to  the  bulky  part  behind.     It  firfl  affirms  what 
every  body  feels  or  mull  confefs,  and  proceeds  to  what 
follows  as  a  neceifary  confequence  :  In  line,  there  is  an 
order  in  perfuafions  to  a  particular  choice,  which  may  be 
taken  two  ways  with  equal  advantage,  proceeding  from 
the  weaker  to  the  itronger,  or  from  the  ftronger  to  the 
weaker.      As   in  recommending  a  pious  and  virtuous 
life,  we  may    firft  fay    it   is   amiable,  honorable,   plea- 
fant,  profitable,  even  in  the  prefent  life  ;  and,  to  crown 
alV  makes  death  itfelf  a  friend,  and  leads  to  a  glorious 
immortality ;  or,  we  may  begin  the  other  way,  and  fay 
it  is  the  one  thing  needful,  that  eternity  is  the  great  and 
decifive    argument  that  fhould  determine    our    choice, 
though  every  thing  elfe,  are  in  favor  of  vice,  and  then 
add,  that  even  in  the  prefent  life,  it  is  a  great  miftake  to 
think  that  bad  men  are  gainers,  &c.    This  is  called  fome- 
times the  afcending  and  defcending  climax.     Each  of 
them  has  its  beauty  and  ufe.     It  mud  be  left  to  the  ora- 
tor's judgment  to  determine  which  of  the  two  is  cither  fit- 
tefl  for  the  prefent  purpofe,  or  which  he  finds  himfelf  at 
that  time  able  to  execute  to  the  greatell  advantage. 


45  5  Lectures  on 


LECTURE    XIL 


"^HE  next  branch  of  this  divilion  is  llyle  or  cotnpo* 
fition.  This,  which  is  fo  great  a  part  of  the  fubjedl, 
has  already  been  confidered  in  one  view,  under  the  three 
great  kinds  of  writing,  and  will  again  be  mentioned  under 
the  two  following  heads,  as  well  as  the  remarks  at  the 
clofe  :  yet  I  will  drop  a  few  things  upon  it  in  this  place. 
I.  It  is  neceffary  that  a  writer  or  fpeaker  fhould  be  well 
acquainted  with  the  language  in  which  he  fpeaks,  its  cha- 
racters, properties  and  defeCl,  its  idioms  or  peculiar  terms 
and  phrafes,  and  likewife  with  as  many  other  languages  as 
poffible,  particularly  fuch  as  are  called  the  learned  langua- 
ges, the  Latin  and  Greek — Our  own  language  is  the  En- 
glifli.  A  thorough  acquaintance  with  it,  muit  be  acquired 
by  extenfive  reading  in  the  befl  authors,  giving  great  at- 
tention to  the  remarks  made  by  critics  of  judgment  and 
erudition,  and  trying  it  ourfelves  in  practice.  Our  lan- 
guage, like  moftof  the  northern  languages,  is  rough,  with  a 
frequent  meeting  of  confonants,  difficult  of  pronunciation; 
it  abounds  in  monofyllables.  You  may  write  a  whole 
page,  and  fcarce  ufe  one  word  that  has  more  than  one 
fyllable  ;  this  is  a  defeat,  and  to  be  avoided  when  it  can 
t3e  done  confidently  with  other  properties,  particularly 
fimplicity  and  perfpicuity.  Our  language  is  faid  to  have 
an  over  proportion  of  the  letter  S,  and  therefore  called  a 
hiffmg  language.  This  a  writer  6f  judgment  will  endea- 
vor to  avoid,  v/herever  he  can  do  it  with  propriety  and 
elegance.  A  thorough  acquaintance  with  the  genius  and 
idioms  of  our  own  language,  can  fcarcely  be  attained  with- 
out fome  acquaintance  with  others,  becaufe  it  is  compari- 
fon  of  one  with  another  which  illuflrates  all.  There  are  not 
only  fmaller  differences  between  one  language  and  ano- 
ther, but  there  are  fome  general  differences  in  the  arrange- 
ment of  words,  in  tlie  ancient  and  modern  languages  : 
in  the  Greek  and  Latin,  the  governed  words  are  pretty 
generally  before  the  verb,     ft  is  a  m.iflake  for  us  to  fay 


Eloquence,  455 

that  the  Englifli  order  is  the  natural  order,  as  fome  have 
done — It  is  certain  that  they  are  either  both  alike  natural 
and  equally  obvious,  when  once  cuftom  has  fixed  them,  or 
the  ancient  order  is  the  more  natural  of  the  two.  There  are 
two  things,  the  adion  and  the  obje£l,  to  be  conjoined,  and 
it  is  fully  as  proper  to  turn  your  attention  firil  to  the  ob- 
jedl,  before  you  tell  what  you  are  to  fay  of  it,  or  what  you 
would  have  done  with  it, as  after.  lilud  fcalpellum  quod  in 
manu  habes  comnjoda  mihi  paulifper,  fi  placet :  and  in 
longer  and  more  involved  fentences,  the  fufpending  the 
fentiment  for  fome  time  till  it  be  compleated,  is  both 
more  pleafmg  and  more  forcible.  Our  own  language  ad- 
mits of  a  little  tranfpofition,  and  becomes  grander  and 
more  fonorous  by  it,  both  in  poetry  and  profe. 

2.  We  may  attend  to  the  arrangement  of  the  claufes  of 
a  fentence,  and  their  proportion  and  found.  Every  fen- 
tencemay  beconfidered  as  having  fo  many  claufes  or  mem- 
bers, which  have,  each  of  them,  fome  meaning,  but  which 
is  not  complete  till  it  is  clofed.  Every  fentence  is  capable 
of  receiving  fome  degree  of  harmony,  by  a  proper  ilruc- 
ture ;  this  it  receives  when  the  moil  important  ideas,  and 
the  moft  fonorous  expreiTions  occupy  the  chief  places  ; 
but  what,  you  will  fay,  are  the  chief  places  ?  We  natu- 
rally, fays  an  eminent  French  author  on  this  fubje6l,  love 
to  prefent  our  moft  intcrefi-ing  ideas  firfl ;  but  this  order 
which  isdi(5lated  by  feU'-love,  is  contrary  to  what  we  are 
dire6:ed  to  by  the  art  of  pleafmg — The  capital  law  of  this 
art,  is  to  prefer  others  to  ourfelves,  and  thereibre  the  moft 
ftriking  and  interefting  ideas  come  with  the  greateft  beauty 
as  well  as  force,  in  the  clofe.  Where  the  difference  does 
not  lie  in  the  ideas,  the  words  or  phrafes  that  are  moft 
long  and  fonorous  ought  to  be  fo  diftinguiflied  ;  this  rule 
however,  will  admit  fome  exception,  when  we  are  to  per- 
fuade  or  inftru6l,  for  we  muft  never  feem  to  have  fweet- 
nefs  and  cadence  chiefly  in  view. 

The  rule  of  placing  in  a  fentence  the  moft  important 
ideas  and  expreffions  laft,  was  taken  notice  of  by  ancient 
writers.  In  verbis  obfervandum  eft,  fays  one  of  them, 
ni  a  majoribus  ad  minus  defcendat  oratio  melius  enim 
dicetur,  vir  eft  optimus,  quam  vir  optim.iis  eft.     Some- 


454  Lectures  on 

times  feveral  monofyllables  terminate  a  fentence  well 
enough,  becaufe  in  pronunciation  they  run  into  one,  and 
feem  to  the  hearers  little  different  from  a  fmgle  word.  It 
is  an  obfervation,  that  the  ear  itfelf  often  diredls  to  the 
rule  upon  this  fubjeft.  Some  French  critics  obferve  that 
fome  fyllables  in  their  language  which  are  ufually  fliort, 
are  produced  in  the  end  of  a  fentence,  for  inilance,  Je  fuis 
votre  fei'viteur  monfieur,  je  fuis  le  votre  ;  where  'votre  is 
Ihort  in  the  iirft  fentence,  and  long  in  the  fecond ;  and  1 
believe  the  fame  thing  would  happen  in  tranilating  that 
fentence  literally  into  Englifh. 

.  The  harmony  of  fentences  is  preferved  either  by  a 
meafured  proportion,  or  regular  gradation  of  the  claufes  : 
Cicero  fays  upon  this  fubje6l.  Si  membra,  &:c.  In  every 
fentence  confiding  of  two  members  only,  every  body's  ear 
will  make  them  fenfible,  that  the  lall  claufe  after  the  paufe 
of  the  voice  ought  to  be  longed ;  as  in  Shakefpear,  But 
yefterday,  &c.  In  longer  fentences  there  muft  be  a  great- 
er variety,  and  feveral  caufes  mull  contribute  to  determine 
the  length  of  the  claufes ;  but  it  is  plain,  the  lafl  muft  be 
longer  than  the  preceding  :  and  fometimes  a  regular  gra- 
dation of  more  than  two  claufes,  has  a  very  happy  effedl ; 
fuch  as  thefe  of  Cicero,  Queam  quefter  fuerum,  &.c.  Again 
he  fays  in  the  fame  oration,  Habet  honorem,  &c.  There 
is  another  order  in  which  there  are  two  equal,  and  one 
unequal  member,  and  in  that  cafe  when  the  unequal  mem- 
ber is  fhorteft,  it  ought  to  be  placed  fir  ft ;  when  it  is 
longeft,  it  ought  to  be  placed  laft,  as  in  the  two  following 
examples ;  Teftis  eft  Africa,  &c.  and  Eripite  nos  ex  mi- 
series, Sec.  There  is  another  ftru6lure  of  the  members  pi 
a  fentence,  in  which  this  rule  is  departed  from,  and  yet  it 
pleafes,  becaufe  of  a  certain  exact  proportion,  as  that  of 
Monfieur  Fenelon,  Dans  fa  douleur,  &c.  The  firft  and 
laft  members  are  equal,  and  that  which  is  in  the  middle 
is  juft  double  to  each  of  them. 

Perhaps  it  will  be  aflved,  Muft  an  author  then  give  atten- 
tion to  this  precife  mcafure  ?  Muft  he  take  a  pair  of  fcales 
or  compafl'es  to  meafure  every  period  he  compofes  ?  By 
no  means.  Nothing  would  be  more  frigid  and  unfucceil- 
ful,  but   it  was  proper  thus  to  analize  the  fubjedl:,  and 


Elaqucnce.  455 

fhow  in  what  manner  the  ear  is  pleafed  ;  at  the  fame  time 
there  is  fo  great  a  variety  and  compafs  in  the  mcafures  of 
prole,  that  it  is  eafy  to  vary  the  llrudlure  and  cadence, 
and  make  every  thing  appear  quite  fimple  and  natural. 
This  leads  me  to  the  third  remark  upon  flyle. 

3.  That  variety  is  to  be  particularly  ftudied.  If  a 
writer  thinks  any  particular  flru61ure  necelTary  and  forces 
every  thing  he  has  to  fay  juft  into  that  form,  it  will  b© 
highly  difagreeable,  or  if  he  is  much  enamoured  with  one 
particular  kind  of  ornament  and  brings  it  in  too  frequently 
it  will  immediately  difgulL  There  is  a  mixture  in  the 
principles  of  tafle,  a  defire  of  uniformity  and  variety, 
limplicity  and  intricacy,  and  it  is  by  the  happy  union  of 
all  thefe,  that  delight  is  moll  efFedually  produced.  What 
elfe  is  necelTary  upon  llyle,  will  fall  very  properly  under 
fome  of  the  following  heads. 

The  lafi:  part  of  the  oratorial  art  is  pronunciation, 
including  geflure.  This  is  of  the  utmoft,  and  indeed  of 
univerfallyconfefied  importance.  The  effects  of  the  dif- 
ferent manner  of  delivering  the  fame  thing  are  very 
great.  It  is  a  famous  fubjed,  largely  treated  of  by  all 
critical  writers.  It  feems  to  have  been  nicely  ftudied 
by  the  ancients,  and  if  we  may  judge  from  fome  cir- 
cumftances  their  action  has  been  often  very  violent. 
We  are  told  of  Cicero,  that  when  he  firft  went  to  the  bar, 
the  violence  of  his  a6lion,  and  what  is  called  contentio 
laterum,  was  fuch  as  endangered  his  conllitution,  fo 
that  he  took  a  journey  for  his  health,  and  on  his  return 
took  to  a  more  cool  and  managed  way  of  fpeaking. 
There  is  alfo  fome  where  in  his  writings,  an  expreflion  to 
this  purpofe,  nee  fuit  etiam  quod  minimum  ell  fupplofio 
pedis.  As  if  ftamping  with  the  foot  had  been  one  of  the 
leaft  violent  motions  then  in  ufe.  We  cannot  judge  of 
this  matter  very  well  at  fuch  a  diftance.  There  is  a  dif- 
ference in  the  turn  of  different  nations  upon  this  fub- 
je6t.  The  French  and  Italians  have  much  more  warmth 
and  fire  in  their  manner  than  the  Brltifh.  I  remember 
once  to  have  been  told  that  no  man  could  perceive  the 
beauty  of  Raphael's  pidure  of  Paul  preaching  at  Athens, 
Unlels  he  had  k^u  a  Frenchman  or  Italian  in  the  pulpit. 


456  Lectures  on 

Leaving  you  to  read  and  digeft  all  the  criticifms  and  re- 
marks upon  this  fubje6l  to  be  met  with  in  different  au- 
thors, I  ihall  only  give  a  few  diredtions  that  I  elleem 
moil  ufeful  for  avoiding  improprieties  and  attaining  fome 
dep;ree  of  excellence  in  this  refpe^l. 

1.  Study  great  fmcerity,  try  to  forget  every  purpofe 
but  the  very  end  of  fpeaking,  information  and  perfuafion. 
Labor  after  that  fort  of  prefence  of  mind  which  arifes 
from  feif-denial  rather  than  from  courage.  Nothing  pro- 
duces more  aukwardnefs  than  confufion  and  embarraif- 
ment.  Bring  a  clown  into  a  magnificent  palace  and  let 
him  have  to  appear  in  the  prefence  of  perfons  of  high 
rank,  and  the  fear  and  folicitude  he  has  about  his  own 
carriage  and  difcourfe,  makes  both  the  one  and  the  other 
much  more  abfurd  and  aukward  than  it  would  have  other- 
wife  been. 

2.  Learn  di(lin6l  articulation,  and  attend  to  all  the 
common  rules  of  reading,  which  are  taught  in  the  En- 
glifti  grammars.  Articulation  is  giving  their  full  force 
and  powers  to  the  confonants  as  well  as  the  vowels.  The 
difference  between  a  well  articulated  difcourfe  and  one 
defedive  in  this  refpe6t,  is,  that  the  firll  you  will  hear 
diftindlly  as  far  as  you  can  hear  the  voice  ;  the  other  you 
will  hear  found  enough,  yet  not  underiland  almoft  any 
thing  that  is  faid.  Practice  in  company  is  a  good  way  to 
learn  this  and  feveral  other  excellencies  in  difcourfe. 

3.  Another  rule  is  to  keep  to  the  tone  and  key  of  dia- 
logue, or  common  converfation  as  much  as  poffible.  In 
common  difcourfe  where  there  is  no  affectation,  men 
fpeak  properly.  At  leaft,  though  even  here  there  are  dif- 
ferences from  nature — fome  fpeaking  with  more  fwectnefs 
and  grace  than  others,  yet  there  is  none  that  falls  into 
any  of  thofe  unnatural  rants  or  ridiculous  geflures,  that 
are  fometimes  to  be  feen  in  public  fpeakers. 

4.  It  is  of  confiderable  confequence  to  be  accuftomed 
to  decency  of  manners  in  the  belt  company.  This  gives 
an  eafe  of  carriage  and  a  fenfe  of  delicacy  which  is  of 
great  ufe  in  forming  the  deportment  of  an  orator. 

5.  In  the  lait  place,  every  one  fhould  confider  not  only 
what  is  the  manner,  beft  in  itfelf,  or  even  belt  fuited  to 


JEloquente.  4$f 

the'fubje(!lj  but  what  is  alfo  bed  fuited  to  his  own  capaei- 
ty.  One  of  a  quick  animated  fpirit  by  nature,  may  al- 
low himfelf  a  much  greater  violence  of  action,  than  one 
of  a  colderdifpofition.  If  this  lafl  works  himfelf  up  to 
violence  or  fladies  to  exprefs  much  paflion,  he  will  not 
probably  be  able  to  carry  it  through,  but  will  relapfe  into 
his  own  natural  manner,  and  by  the  fenfible  difference 
between  one  part  of  his  difcourfe  and  another,  rendei" 
himfelf  ridiculous.  Solemnity  of  manner  fliould  be  fub- 
ftituted  by  all  fuch  perfons  in  the  room  of  fire* 


LECTURE    XIII. 

E  come  now  to  the  fourth  general  divifion  of 
this  fubjedl,  which  is,  that  its  object  or  end  is 
different.  The  ends  a  writer  or  fpeaker  may  be  faid  to 
aim  at,  are  information,  demonftration,  periuafion  and 
entertainment.  I  need  fcarce  tell  you  that  thefe  are  not 
fo  wholly  diftin£l  but  that  they  are  frequently  intermixed^ 
and  that  more  than  one  of  them  may  be  in  view  at  the 
fame  time*  Perfualion  is  alfo  ufed  in  a  ^enih  that  includes 
them  all.  The  intention  of  all  fpeech,  or  writing  which 
is  but  recorded  fpeech,  is  to  perfuade,  taking  the  word 
with  latitude*  Yet  I  think  you  will  eafily  perceive 
that  there  are  very  different  forts  of  compofition,  in  fome 
of  which  one  of  the  above  mentioned  purpofes,  and  in 
others  a  different  one,  takes  the  lead  and  gives  the  colour 
to  the  whole  performance.  Great  benefit  will  arife  from 
keeping  a  clear  view  of  what  is  the  end  propofed.  It 
will  preferve  the  writer  from  a  vitious  and  raiilaken  tafie^ 
The  fame  thoughts,  the  fame  piirafeology,  the  fame  fpirit 
in  general  running  through  a  writing,  is  highly  proper  in 
one  cafe,  and  abfurd  in  another.  There  is  a  beauty  in 
every  kind  of  v/riting  when  it  is  well  done,  and  impro-^ 
priety  or  bad  tafie  will  fometimes  ihow  themfelves  in 
.pieces  very  inconfiderable — If  it  were  but  inditing  a 
meffage  card,  penning  an  article  in  a  news-paper,  or 
drawing  up  an  advertifement,  perfons  acculiomed  to* 
Vol.  hi.  3  M 


458  Lectures  on 

each  of  tliefe,  will  be  able  to  keep  to  the  common  form^ 
or  beaten  track  ;  but  if  any  thing  difterent  is  to  be  faid, 
good  fenfe,  and  propriety,  or  their  contraries,  will  foon 
fhow  themfelves. 

The  writings  which  have  information  as  their  chief 
purpofe,  are  hillory,  fable,  epiilolary  writing,  the  com- 
mon intercourfc  of  bufinefs  o-r  friendfhip,  and  all  the 
lower  kinds.  The  properties  which  ihould  reign  in 
them,    are  tlie    followinp*,    (i)  Plainnefs.     (2)  f'ulnefs. 

(3)  Precl'fion,  and  (4)  Order.  Plainnefs  it  is  evident 
they  oaght  to  have ;  and  indeed  not  barely  perfpicuity,  fo 
as  to  be  intelligible,  but  an  tinafFe6:ed  fimplicity,  fo  as  not 
to  feem  to  have  any  thing  higher  in  view  than  to  be  under- 
ftcod.  (2)  When  we  fay  that  fulnefs  is  a  property  of 
v/ritings  which  have  information  as  their  purpofe,  it  is 
not  meant  to  reeom.mend  a  long  or  diffufe  narration,  but 
to  intimate  that  nothing  fhouldbe  omitted  in  giving  an  ac- 
count of  any  thing  which  is  of  in^portance  to  it's  being 
truly  and  completely  underflood.  Let  a  writer  be  as- 
large  as  he  pleafes  in  what  he  fays,  if  he  omits  circum- 
itances  as  elfential  as  thole  he  mentions,  and  which  the 
reader  would  naturally  defire  to  know,  he  is  not  full. 
Many  are  very  tedious,  and  yet  not  full.  The  excellence 
of  a  narrative  is  to  contain  as  many  ideas  as  poflible, 
provided  they  are  interefUng,  and  to  convey  them  in  as 
few  words  as  poffible,  confidently  with  perfpicuity.  (3) 
Precifion  as  a  quality  of  narration  belongs  chiefly  tolan^ 
guage.  W^ords  Ihould  be  chofen  that  are  truly  expreflive 
of  the  thing  in  view,  and  all  ambiguous  as  well  as  Au 
perfluous  plirafes  carefully  avoided.  The  reader  is  im- 
patient to  get  to  the  end  of  a  Itory,  and  therefore  he 
mufl  not  be  flopped  by  any  thing  but  what  you  are  fure 
he  would  be  glad  to  know  before  he   proceeds  further, 

(4)  The  lad  particular  is  order,  which  is  necellary  in 
all  wrltines,  but  efpeeially  in  narration.  There  it  lies 
chiefly  in  time  and  place,  and  a  breach  of  order  in  thefe 
refpe6ts  is  more  eafily  drfcerned  and  more  univerfally 
offenfive  than  in'any  other.  Common  hearers  do  not  al- 
ways know  when  you  violate  order  in  ranging  the  argu- 
ments on  amgral  fubjeCt  j  but  if  you  bring  in  a  flory  al>- 


Eloquence,  459 

ruptly,  or  tell  it  confufedly,  either  in  a  letter  or  a  difcourfe, 
it  will  be  inllantly  perceived,  and  thofe  will  laugh  at  yoi^ 
who  could  not  tell  it  a  whit  better  themfelves. 

Imagination  is  not  to  be  much  ufed  in  w  ritings  of  the 
narrative  kind.  Its  chief  ufe  in  fuch  writings  is  in  de- 
fcription.  A  man  of  a  warm  fancy  will  paint  Itrongly, 
and  a  man  of  a  fenlimental  turn  will  intereil  the  affecT 
tions  even  by  a  mere  recital  of  fa6ls.  But  both  the  one 
and  the  other  fhould  be  kept  in  great  moderation  ;  for  a 
warm  fancy  is  often  joined  to  credulity,  and  the  fenti- 
mental  perfon  is  given  to  invention  :  fo  that  he  will  turi> 
a  real  hiilory  into  half  a  romance.  In  hiftory  a  certain 
cool  and  difpaffionate  dignity  is  the  leading  beauty.  The 
writer  fhould  appear  to  have  no  intereft  in  characters  or 
events,  but  deliver  them  as  he  finds  them.  The  charac- 
ter which  an  illuftrious  hiflorian  acquires  from  this  felf- 
denial,  and  being,  as  it  were,  fuperior  to  all  the  perfon- 
ages,  how  great  foever,  of  whom  he  treats,  has  fomething 
awful  and  venerable  in  it.  It  is  dillinguifhed  by  this  cir- 
cumftance,  from  the  applaufe  given  to  the  poet  or  orator. 

Demonllration  is  the  end  in  view  in  all  fcientific  wri- 
tings, whether  efl'ays,  fyflems,  or  controverfy.  The  ex- 
cellencies of  this  kind  of  writing  may  be  reduced  to  the 
three  following  :  Perfpicuit)^,  order,  and  ftrength.  The 
two  firfl  are  neceflary  here  as  every  where  elfe,  and  the 
compofition  fhould  be  flrong  and  nervous  to  produce  a 
lafling  conviction  ;  more  force  of  language  is  to  be  ad- 
mitted, at  leafl  more  generally  in  this  kind  than  in  the 
former ;  but  a  great  deal  lefs  of  imagination  and  fancy 
than  even  there.  Whenever  a  fcientific  writer  begins  to 
paint  and  adorn,  he  is  forgetting  himfelf  and  difgufting 
his  reader.  This  will  be  fenfibly  felt  if  you  apply  it 
to  the  mathematics.  The  mathematician  is  converfant 
only  with  fenfible  ideas,  and  therefore  the  more  naked  and 
unadorned  every  thing  that  he  fays  is  fo  much  the  better. 
How  would  it  look  if  a  mathematician  fhould  fay,  do  yoU' 
fee  this  beautiful,  fmall,  taper,  acute  angle  ?  It  always  ap- 
proaches to  this  abfurdity,  Vv^hen,  in  fearching  after  ab* 
llraCt  truth,  writers  introduce  imagination  and  fancy.. 
I  am  fenfible  that,  having  mentioned  controverfy  as  be^ 


46(3^  Lectures  on 

longing  to  this  clafs,  many  may  be  furprifed  that  I  have 
excluded  imagination  altogether,  fmce  commonly  all  con- 
troverfial  writers  do,  to  the  utmoft  of  their  ability,  enlift 
Imagination  in  the  fervice  of  Reafon.  There  is  nothing 
they  are  fo  fond  of  as  expofing  the  weaknefs  of  their  ad- 
verfaries  by  ftrokes  of  raillery  and  humor.  This  I  did 
on  purpoff  that  I  may  ftate  this  matter  to  you  clearly, 
Controverfy  lliould  mean,  and  very  generally  fuch  writ- 
ters  pretend  to  mean,  weighing  the  argTiments  on  each 
fide  of  a  contefled  queftion,  in  order  to  difcover  the 
truth.  What  ftrong  profeiTions  of  impartiality  have  we 
fometimes  from  the  very  champions  of  a  party  quarrel-? 
while  yet  it  is  plain  that  fearching  after  truth  is  what  they 
never  think  of,  but  maintaining,  by  every  art,  the  caufe 
which  they  have  already  efpoufed. 

I  do  not  deny  that  there  are  fometim.es  good  reafons  for 
inaking  ufe  of  fatire  and  ridicule  in  controverfies  of  the 
political  kind,  fometimes  it  is  neceflary  in  felf-defence. 
If  any  writer,  in  behalf  of  a  party,  attempts  to  expofe 
his  adverfaries  to  public  fcorn,  he  ought  not  to  be  furprilbd 
if  the  meafure  he  metes  to  others,  is  meafured  out  to  him 
again.  What  is  unlawful  in  the  aggreilor,  becomes  jullifia?-" 
ble,if  not  laudable  in  the  defender.  Sometimes  it  is  neceflary 
to  expofe  tyrants  or  perfons  in  pov/er,  who  do  not  reafon, 
but  puniih,  and  fometimes  it  is  neceflary  to  bring  down 
felf-fufficient  perfons,  with  whom  there  is  no  dealing  till 
their  pride  is  levelled  a  little  with  this  difmaying  weapon. 
Dr.  Brown  has  fet  this  matter  in  a  very  clear  light  in  his 
ElFays  on  the  Charaderiftics,  where  he  fays,  that  ridicule 
is  not  the  tefi:  of  truth,  but  it  may  be  very  ufeful  to  ex- 
pofe and  difgrace  known  falihood. 

But  when  controverfy  is  really  ^n  Impartial  fearch  after 
truth,  it  is  the  fartheft  diifant  imaginable,  either  from  paf- 
fionate  declamation  on  the  one  hand,  or  fallies  of  wit  and 
humor  on  the  other.  There  is  out  inftance  of  a  controver- 
fy carried  on  between  Dr.  Buttler  and  Dr.  Clark,  upon  the 
fubjecl  of  fpace  and  perfonal  identity,  in  which  there  did 
not  feem  to  be  any  dcfign  upon  either  fide  but,  to  difcover 
the  truth.  It  ended  in  the  entire  convidion  and  fatisfac- 
tion  of  one  of  them,  which  he  readily  and  openly  ac-. 
li^pwledged :  and  I  think  in  fuch  an  inftance  there  i^ 


Eloquence.  461 

much  greater  glory  to  be  had  in  yielding,  than  in  conquer- 
hig.  There  is  great  honor  in  candidly  acknowledging  a 
mi  flake,  but  not  much  in  obtaining  a  vitlory  in  fupport  of 
truth.  It  is  worth  while  jult  to  mention,  that  this  was 
far  -from  being  the  cafe  in  another  controverfy  before  two, 
who  were  alfo  very  great  men,  Mr.  Locke  and  Dr.  Stil- 
lingfleet,  upon  innate  ideas.  They  not  only  fupported 
each  his  fentiments,  with  warmth  and  keennefs,  but  de- 
fcended  to  ail  the  malice  of  perfonal  reproach,  and  all  the 
littlenefs  of  verbal  criticifm. 

The  next  great  end  that  may  be  in  view  is  perfuafion. 
This  being  the  great  and  general  fubjedl  of  oratory,  has 
had  moil  iaid  upon  it  in  every  age.  That  you  may  un- 
derftand  what  1  mean  by  diftinguiihing  it  from  informa- 
tion, demonilration,  and  entertainment,  obferve,  that 
perfuafion  is  when  we  would,  bring  the  reader  or  hearer 
to  a  determina.te  choice,  either  immediately  upon  the 
ipot  for  a  particular  decifion,-  as  in  afiembly  or  court  of 
jullice,  or  in  a  more  flow  and  lafting  way,  as  in  religious 
and  moral  writings.  But  particularly  perfuafion  is  un- 
derllood  to  be  in  view,  as  the  effect  of  a  fnigle  difcourfe. 
When  this  is  the  purpofe,  there  are  opportunities  for  all 
the  ways  of  fpeaking  within  the  compal's  of  the  oratorial 
art.  There  are  times  when  an  orator  mull  narrate  fimply 
■ — there  are  times  when  he  mull  reafon  llrongly — and 
there  are  times  when  he  may  wound  fatirically.  It  mull 
be  remembered,  however,  that  too  great  an  infufion  of 
wit  takes  away  both  from  the  dignity  and  force  of  an  ora- 
tion.  We  fhall  fee  under  the  next  head  that  it  cannot  be 
admitted  in  religious  in{lru6lion  but  \y\\tn  you  are  fpeak- 
ing againft  an  adverfary  that  is  proud  and  conceited ;  or 
when  you  want  to  make  your  hearers  defpife  any  perfoa 
or  thing,  as  well  as  hate  them,  wit  and  fatire  may  be  of 
ufe.  A  minifter  of  ftate  is  very  often  attacked  in  this  way 
v/ith  propriety,  and  fuccefs.  It  is  fometimes  allov/ed  to 
relieve  the  fpirits  of  the  audience  when  they  begin  to 
flag.  In  this  view  Cicero  recommends  the  urhanitas^ 
and  pra6lifes  it  himfelf ;  but  at  the  fame  time  he  inti- 
mates that  it  ihould  be  done  fparingly,  and  v/ith  caution 
%i^^ce  tancjiiara  sale  comsper^atur  Qratioiie,    Wit,  there- 


4^2  Lectures  on 

fore,  is  to  be  abfolutely  excluded  from  fcientific  writings, 
and  very  rarely  to  be  ufed  in  ferious  perfuafion. 

The  laft  end  of  fpeaking  and  writing  I  fhall  mention 
is  entertainment.  This  includes  all  fuch  writings  as 
have  the  amufement  or  entertainment  of  the  hearers  or 
readers  as  the  only,  the  chief,  or  at  leaft  one  great  end  of 
the  compofition.  This  is  the  cafe  with  all  poetical  com- 
pofitions.  They  may  pretend  to  write  for  the  inflruc- 
tlon  of  others,  but  to  pleafe  them  and  obtain  their  favor 
is  probably  more  their  purpofe.  At  any  rate  they  mufl 
content  themfelves  with  taking  in  both,  and  fay  with 
Horace,  Et  prodesse  volunt  Ssf  dclectare  poeta.  Sweet- 
nefs,  tendernefs,  and  elegance  of  ftyle,  ought  to  charac- 
terize thefe  forts  of  compofition.  Here  is  the  greateft 
room  for  imagination  and  fancy.  Here  is  the  dominion 
of  wit  and  humor.  It  is  an  obfervation  of  fome,  that 
the  word  humor  is  peculiar  to  the  Englifli  language  ;  that 
the  euirapelia  in  Greek ;  cales  Cs?  urbanitas^  in  Latin, 
have  all  the  fame  meaning  with  our  general  term  moit ; 
but  that  humor  denotes  a  particular  kind  of  wit  confift^ 
ing  chiefly  of  irony.  But  if  the  word  is  peculiar  to  the 
Englifli  language,  it  is  certain  that  the  thing  itfelf  is  far 
from  being  peculiar  to  the  Englifli  nation.  Perhaps  Ho- 
mer's Batruchomico  machia  may  be  faid  to  be  the  mofl 
ancient  example  of  it  upon  record.  Lucian's  Dialogues 
have  it  in  high  perfection,  though  it  mufl  be  owned  that 
it  feems  particularly  to  have  flourifhed  in  modern  times. 
Fontanel le's  Dialogues  of  the  Dead,  and  Boileau's  Satires, 
ure  famous  examples  of  it;  but  none  everexceededCervan- 
tes,  the  celebrated  author  of  Don  Quixotte.  That  piece 
is  highl)^  entertaining  to  an  Englifli  reader  under  two 
great  difadvantages.  One  is,  its  being  tranflated  into 
another  language.  Now,  wit  is  more  difficult  to  tranflate 
than  any  other  fubje6l  of  compofition.  It  is  eafier  to  tranf- 
late undiminiflied  the  force  of  eloquence  than  the  poig- 
nancy of  wit.  The  other  difadvantage  is,  its  being  writ- 
ten in  ridicule  of  a  charadter  that  now  no  more  exifls; 
fo  that  we  have  not  the  opportunity  of  comparing  the  copy 
with  the  original. 


Eloquence,  4^ 


t 


We  mufl:  alfo  obferve  that  wit  in  general,  and  this  fpe- 
cies  of  it  in  particular,  has  often  appeared  in  the  higheft 
perfedtion  in  Britain,  both  in  profe  and  poetry  ;  Shakef- 
pear's  dramatic  pieces  abound  with  it,  and  Dr.  Donne s' 
Satires.  It  is  in  high  perfection  in  MarvePs  Rehearfal 
tranfpofed  ;  Alfop's  Melius  Inquirendum  ;  but  above 
all,  in  Swift's  writings,  profe  and  verfe. 

It  is  obferved  fometimes,  that  the  talent  of  humor  is 
often  poflefl'ed  in  a  very  high  degree,  by  perfons  of  the 
meaneft  rank,  who  are  themfelves  ignorant  of  it ;  in  them 
it  appears  chiefly  in  converfation,  and  in  a  manner  that 
cannot  be  eafily  put  upon  paper.  But  as  to  thofe  who 
think  fit  to  try  this  manner  from  the  prefs,  they  flioukl  be 
well  afTurcd  before  hand,  that  they  really  pollefs  the  ta- 
lent. In  many  other  particulars,  a  real  tafle  for  it,  and  a 
high  admiration  of  any  thing,  is  a  confiderable  iign  of 
fome  degree  of  the  talent  itfelf ;  but  it  is  far  from  being 
fo  in  wit  and  humor.  Mr.  Pope  tells  us  that  ''  Gentle 
dulnefs  ever  loves  a  joke ;"  and  we  fee  every  day  peo- 
ple aiming  at  wit,  who  prorluce  the  mo(l  miierable  and 
fhocking  performances  :  fometimes  they  do  not  excite 
laughter,  but  loathing  or  indignation  ;  fometimes  they  do 
excite  laughter,  but  it  is  that  of  contempt.  There  is  a 
di[lin(!:lion  which  every  one  flioukl  endeavor  to  under- 
Hand  and  remember  between  a  wit  and  a  droll  ;  the  firfl 
makes  you  laugh  at  what  he  fays,  and  the  object  of  his  fa- 
tire,  and  the  fecond  makes  you  laugh  at  his  own  expence, 
from  his  abfurdity  and  mcaanefs. 


LECTURE   XIV. 

WE  come  now  to  the  fifth  general  divifion  of  elo* 
quence,  as  its  fubjedl  is  different,  under  which  we 
may  confider  the  three  great  divifions  of  the  pulpit,  the 
bar,  and  promifcuous  alTemblies  ;  all  the  general  princi- 
ples of  compofition  are  common  to  thefe  three  kinds,  nor 
can  any  man  mi^^e  a  truly  diflinguiilied  figure  in  any  one 
f)f  them,  without  being  well  acquainted  with  literature  and 


'464  Lectures  on 

tafte.  Some  peculiarities  in  different  ways  of  wi'itiiig'j 
have  been  already  touched  at,  all  which  I  fuppole  you  gave 
attention  to ;  but  there  are  flill  fome  differences,  as  the 
fccne  in  which  a  man  is  to  move  in  life  is  different, 
which  are  highly  worthy  of  obfervation.  I  will  therefore 
confider  each  of  thefe  feparately,  and  try  to  point  out  the 
qualities  for  which  it  ought  be  difiinguifhed  ;  or  delineate 
the  character  of  an  accompliflied  minifter,  lawyer  and  fe- 
nator. 

I  begin  with  the  pulpit.  Preaching  the  gofpel  of  Chrill 
is  a  truly  noble  employment,  and  the  care  of  fouls  a  very 
important  trufl.  1'he  qualities  of  moft  importance,  I 
think  are  as  follow* 

I.  Piety — To  have  a  firm  belief  of  that  gofpel  he  is  call- 
ed to  preach,  and  a  lively  fenfe  of  religion  upon  his, own 
heart*  Duty,  intereil  and  utility  all  confpire  in  requiring 
this  qualification  ;  it  is  of  the  utmoft  moment  in  itfelf, 
and  what  men  will  the  lead  difpenfc  with,  in  one  of  that 
profeflion.  All  men  good  and  bad,  agree  in  defplfing  a 
loofe  or  profane  mhiifier.  It  difcovers  a  terrible  degree  of 
depravity  of  heart,  and  thofe  that  begin  fo,  feldom  alter  for 
the  better.  The  very  familiar  acquaintance  which  they  ac- 
quire with  ferious  thoughts  and  Ipiritual  fubjedls,  ferves  to 
harden  them  againll  the  arrows  of  conviction,  and  it  is 
little  wonder  that  for  fuch  daring  v/ickednefs,  God  fliould 
leave  them  to  themfelves,  or  fentence  them  to  perpetual 
barrennefs  :  but  whilil  I  think  it  my  duty  thus  to  warn 
you,  I  mult  beg  leave  to  guard  it  againft  abufe,  lell  while 
v/e  are  aggravating  the  fm  of  profane  n-inifters,  others 
fliould  think  themfelves  at  liberty,  who  have  no  view  to 
that  facred  office.  We  have  even  feen  perfons  decline  the 
facred  ofiice  becaufe  they  did  not  think  they  had  true  re- 
ligion, and  then  with  feeming  cafe  andquietnefs  fetthem- 
felves  to  fome  other  bufinefs,  as  if  in  that  there  was  no 
need  of  religion  at  all.  Alas  !  after  all  that  can  be  faid 
pf  the  guilt  and  danger  of  an  irreligious  minifter,  there  is 
an  infinite  danger  to  every  one  who  fliall  go  out  of  this 
life,  an  irreligious  man.  Will  it  not  be  poor  confolation 
think  you,  in  the  hour  of  ficknefs  or  death,  that  though 
j'ou  muft  perifh  everlaflingly,  you  go  to  hell  not  as  a  mi* 


Eloquence^  465 

niiler,  but  a  lawyer  or  a  phyfician.  I  clo  truly  think 
this  has  been  a  pillow  of  lecurity  to  many  poor  thoutjit- 
J.efs  fouls,  and  that  they  have  achaally  rid  themfelves  of 
conv!(^Vion,  by  this  miftaken  comibrt,  as  if  tliere  was 
mufsh  merit  in  it,  that  they  would  not  be  minifrers,  be- 
caule  tliey  wanted  reli;:;ion.  Remember  this  then,  in  a 
fmgle  word,  that  there  is  neither  profeilion  nor  ilation  from 
the  king  on  the  throne,  to  the  beggar  on  the  dunghill,  to 
whom  a  concern  for  eternity,  is  not  the  one  ih'ing  necdfiiL 

But  let  me  juft  take  notice  of  the  great  advantage  of 
true  religion  to  one  deftined  for  the  work  of  the  minilby* 
(i.)  It  gives  a  man  the  knowledge  that  is  of  moR  fervice  to 
a  minifter.  Experimental  knowledge  is  fuperior  to  ail 
other,  and  neceHary  to  the  ])erfeClion  of  every  other  kind. 
It  is  indeed  the  very  ])oiic;:irion  or  daily  exercife  of  that 
which  is  the  bufmefs  of  his  life,  and  the  duty  of  his  office, 
to  explain  and  recommend.  Experim.ental  knowledge  is 
the  bell  fort  in  every  branch,  but  it  is  neceffary  in  divinity, 
becaufe  religion  is  what  cannot  be  truly  underllood,  unlefs 
it  is  felt. 

(2.)  True  piety  will  dlre*^  a  man  in  the  choice  of  his 
ftudies.  The  object  of  human  knovv  ledge  is  fo  extenfive, 
that  nobody  can  go  through  the  whole,  but  religion  will 
dire6l  the  ftudent  to  what  may  be  moft  profitable  to  him, 
and  will  alfo  ferve  to  turn  into  its  proper  channel  all  the 
knowledge  he  may  otherwife  acquire. 

(3.)  It  will  be  a  powerful  motive  to  diligence  in  liis 
ftudies.  Nothing  fo  forcible  as  that  in  which  eternity 
has  a  part.  The  duty  to  a  good  man  is  fo  preffmg,  and 
the  objeft  fo  important,  that  he  will  fpare  no  pains  to  ob- 
tain fuccefs. 

(4.)  True  religion  will  give  unfpeak able  force  to  what 
a  miniller  fays.  There  is  a  piercing  and  a  pene'f rating 
heat  in  that  v/hich  flows  from  the  heart,  which  diflin-j^uifh- 
es  it  both  from  the  coldnefs  of  indifference,  and  the  falfe 
fire  of  enthufiafm  and  vain-glory.  We  fee  that  a  man 
truly  pious,  h?ts  often  efteem,  influence  and  fuccefs,  though 
his  parts  may  be  much  inferior  to  others,  who  are  more 
capable,  but  lefs  confcientious.  If  then,  piety  makes 
even  the  weakeft,  venerable,  what  mufr  i:  da  when  added 

Vol.  III.  '^  N 


466  Lectures  on 

to  the  fineft:  natural  talents,  and  the  befl:  acquired  enctoW> 
nients. 

(5.)  It  adds  to  a  minlfier's  inftrudlion,  the  weight  of  his 
example.  It  is  a  trite  remark,  that  example  teaches  bet- 
ter than  precept.  It  is  often  a  more  effe^^tual  reprimand 
to  vice,  and  a  more  inciting  argument  to  the  pra^lice  of 
virtue,  than  the  bed  of  rcafoning.  Example  is  more  in- 
telligible than  precept — Precepts  are  often  involved  in 
obfcurity,  or  warped  by  controverfy  ;  but  a  holy  life  im- 
mediately reaches,  and  takes  poiTefTion  of  the  heart. 

if  I  have  lengthened  out  this  particular  beyond  the  pro- 
portion of  the  red,  I  hope  you  will  forgive  it  for  its  im- 
portance, and  obferve  as  the  conclufion  of  the  whole,  that 
one  devoted  to  the  fervice  of  the  gofpel,  fliouid  be  re  ally  y 
"visibly  and  efninently  holy. 

2.  Another  chara6ler  which  fliould  diftinguilh  pulpit 
eloquence,  is  fm:iplicity.  Simplicity  is  beautiful  every 
where  ;  it  is  of  importance  that  young  perfons  Ihould  be 
formed  to  a  tafle  for  it,  and  more  difpofed  to  exceed  here 
than  in  the  oppofite  extreme,  but  if  I  am  not  raiflaken, 
it  is  more  beautiful  and  the  tranfgreffions  of  it  more  of- 
fenfive  in  the  pulpit  than  any  where  elfe*  If  I  heard  a 
lawyer  pleading  in  fuch  a  flyle  and  manner^  as  was  more 
adapted  to  difplayhis  own  talents  than  to  carry  his  cli- 
ent's caufe  it  would  confiderably  lefFen  him  in  my  efleem, 
but  if  I  heard  a  minifler  a£ling  the  fame  part,  I  ihould 
not  be  fatisfied  with  contempt,  but  hold  him  in  detefta- 
tion. 

There  are  feveral  obvious  reafons  why  fimplicity  is 
more  efpecially  neceflary  to  a  minifler  than  any  other. 
(i)  Many  of  his  audience  are  poor  ignorant  creatures. 
If  he  mean  to  do  them  any  fervice,  he  muft  keep  to 
what  they  underiland,  and  that  requires  more  fimplicity 
than  perfons  without  experience  can  eafily  imagine.  It 
is  remarkable  that  at  the  iirft  publication  it  was  a  cha- 
racler  of  the  gofpel  that  it  was  preached  to  the  poor.  In 
diis  our  blefled  mailer  was  diftinguiflied  both  from  the 
heathen  philofophers  and  Jewifli  teachers,  who  confined 
their  inflructions  in  a  great  meafure  to  their  fchools  and 
imparted  what  they  efteemed  their  moft  important  dif- 


Eloquence.  467 

courfes  to  only  a  few  chofen  difciples.  (2)  Simplicity  is 
necefTary  to  preferve  the  fpeaker's  chara(^l:er  for  fincerity. 
You  heard  before  how  necefTary  piety  is  which  is  the  pro- 
per parent  of  fincerity  in  the  pulpit.  Now  it  is  not  eafy 
to  preferve  the  opinion  of  piety  and  fincerity  in  the 
pulpit  when  there  is  much  ornament.  Befides  the  dan- 
ger of  much  affedled  pomp  or  foppery  of  flyle,  a  dif- 
courfe  very  highly  poliflied  even  in  the  truefl  tafte,  is 
apt  to  fuggeft  to  the  audience  that  a  man  is  preaching 
himfelf  and  not  the  crofs  of  Chriil.  So  nice  a  matter  is  this 
in  all  public  fpeaking,  that  fome  critics  fay,  that  Demoft- 
henes  put  on  purpofe  fome  errors  in  grammar  in  his 
difcourfes,  that  the  hearers  might  be  induced  to  take 
them  for  the  immediate  effufions  of  the  heart,  without  art, 
and  with  little  premeditation.  I  doubt  much  the  folidity 
of  this  remark,  or  the  certainty  of  the  fa6l,  but  however 
it  be,  there  is  no  occafion  for  it  in  the  cafe  of  a  minifter, 
becaufe,  preparation  and  premeditation,  are  expeded 
from  him,  and  in  that  cafe  he  may  make  his  difcourfes 
abundantly  plain  and  fimple  without  any  affedied  blun- 
ders. (3)  Simplicity  is  alfo  necefTary,  as  fuited  to 
the  gofpel  itfelf,  the  fubjedl:  of  a  minifler's  difcourfes. 
Nothing  more  humbling  to  the  pride  of  man,  than  the 
do6trine  of  the  crofs ;  nothing  more  unbecoming  that 
dodtrine,  than  too  much  finery  of  language.  The  apof- 
tle  Paul  chofe  to  preach  "  not  with  the  words  which 
man's  wifdom  teacheth"' — and  again,  "  not  with  excel- 
lency of  fpeech  or  of  wifdom,"  which  though  I  admit  that 
it  docs  not  condemn  iludy  and  found  knowledge,  yet 
it  certainly  lliows  that  the  llyle  of  the  pulpit  Ihoukl 
be  the  moft  fimple  and  felf-denied  of  any  other. 

3.  Another  qualification  for  a  minifler,  is  accuracy, 
from  the  utmofl  diligence  in  his  important  work.  I  place 
this  immediately  after  the  other,  to  guard  it  againft  abufe 
by  excefs.  To  avoid  vain  affeded  ornaments  is  a  very 
different  thing  from  negligence  in  preparation.  The 
very  fameapoftle  who  fpeaks  with  fo  much  contempt  of 
human  wifdom,  yet  greatly  infill  in  writing  to  Timothy 
and  Titus  on  their  giving  themfelves  to  Iludy,  to  exhor- 
tation,  to  dodrine,  "  Meditate  upon  thofe  things'^  fays  he>^ 


468  Lectures  on 

Study  and  accuracy  indeed  is  neceflary,  that  a  minifter 
may  procure  and  keep  up  the   attention   of  his  hearers. 
That  he  may  inform   the  judgment  as  well  as  convince 
the  confcience.     The  ancient  fathers  have  generally  in- 
fiiled  upon  this,  as  of  much  moment.     Ana  in  our  own 
times  I  obferve  that   it  is  neceiTary   to  avoid  OlT^T^ling 
perfons  of  finer  talle,  who  are  too   much  attache'  •        le 
outfide  of  things,  and  are  immediately  dif^^uiled  witn 
error  agai  nil  propriety,  and  are  apt  to  reproach* 
itfelf,  for  the  weaknefs  or  abfurdity  of  thole  who 
its  behalf.      Let  no  man  feek  to  avoid  that  reproa 
may  be  his  lot,  for   preaching  the  truths  of  the  ever.ail- 
inggofpel,  but  let  him  alv/ays  avoid  the  juft  reproach  of 
handling  them  in  a  mean,  flovenly  and  indecent  man- 
ner. :i 

4.  Another  quality  of  a  miniiler's  eloquence  ftiould 
be  force  and  vehemence.  I  have  in  feme  former  parrs  of 
the  general  fubject,  Ihov/n  you  how  and  when  this  is  to  be 
mod  exerted.  The  defign  of  the  prefent  remark  is  to 
let  you  know,  that  there  is  no  fpeaker  who  h?-s  a  greater 
right  to  exert  himfelf  to  the  utmoii:,  or  who  may  properly 
intereil  his  hearers  more,  than  a  miniller  of  the  gofpel. 
No  fpeaker  has  fabjecls  or  arguments  more  proper  for 
producmg  this  effect.  To  confider  the  fubjeQs  which  a 
fpeaker  from  the  pulpit  has  to  handle,  one  would  think 
that  it  muft  be  the  eafiefl;  thing  imaginable  to  fpeak  from 
them  in  a  powerful  and  interefting  manner.  The  eter- 
ternal  God — the  greatnefs  of  his  works — the  univerfality 
of  his  Providence — his  awful  juflice — his  irrefillible 
power — his  infinite  mercy — and  the  wifdom  of  God  in 
the  myftery  of  redeeming  grace — the  condition  of  faints 
and  finners  while  on  earth — and  the  final  decifion  of  their 
eternal  flate  in  the  day  of  judgment.  The  truth  is,  the 
fubjedls  are  fo  very  great  in  themfelves,  that  it  is  not 
pollible  to  equal  them  by  the  manner  of  handling 
them.  Probably  for  this  very  reafon  many  fall  ihort. 
Difcouraged  by  the  immenfity  of  the  theme,  they  fall 
below  what  they  might  have  done  on  fubjedls  lefs  awful. 
This  however  ihows,  with  what  a  holy  ambition  thofe 
who  are  employed  in  the  fervice  of  Chrill  in  die  gofpcl, 


JEloqtience.  469 

fhould  endeavor  to  exert  themfelves  in  the  glorious  caufe. 
Provided  diey  are  themfelves  in  earneil:,  and  take  truth 
and  nature  as  their  guide,  they  can  Icarcely  exceed  in 
zeal  and  ardor  for  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  good  of  pre- 
cious fouls. 

5.  Another  excellent  quality  of  pulpit  eloquence  is,  to 
be  under  the  reilraint  of  judgment  and  propriety.  I  place 
this  after  the  former  as  its  counterpart  and  neceffary  to 
give  it  proper  efFecl.  And  it  may  be  obferved,  that  as  rc- 
lip;ious  and  moral  fubjeds  give  the  fureft  and  the  fulleil 
fcope  to  zeal  and  fervor,  fo  they  need  as  much  as  any  the 
flridl  government  of  prudence  and  experience.  I  do  not 
mean  only  by  this  to  guard  miniders  from  the  irregular 
fervors  of  enthufiafm,  but  to  give,  If  poflible,  a  degree  01 
foiidity  and  real  truth  to  their  inilruclions.  Tliey  ought 
to  avoid  allturjTid  declamation,  to  keep  to  experience,  and 
talr.e  diings  as  they  really  are.  Let  Ibme  people,  for  ex- 
ample, i'peak  of  richeS;,  and  what  iliall  \ou  hear  from 
them  ?  Gold  and  filver,  what  are  they  but  fi  inlng  drofs,. 
fparkling  metals,  a  thing  of  no  real  value.  That  in  the  eye 
of  reafon  and  philofophy  they  are  of  no  extenfive  ufe  fiitd 
altogether  contemptible.  And  indeed  to  take  things  In  a 
certain  philofophical  aburaction,  they  are  r;ood  for  npihing; 
— Mere  gold  or  filver  you  can  neither  eat  nor  v.^eai*—- 
Their  value,  you  will  fay,  depends  all  upon  opinion,  the 
changeable  fancy  of  men — But  this  manner  of  fpeaking, 
and  all  that  is  related  to  it,  feeming  to  be  philofophy  and 
reafon,  is  really  abfurdity  and  nonfenfe.  For  though  it 
be  true  that  gold  abftra(^led  from  the  opinion  of  mankind, 
is  not  a  whit  more  valuable  than  flones,  and  that  if  I  was 
in  the  midll  of  a  foreft  furrounded  with  wild  beads,  a 
whole  bag  full  of  gold  would  do  me  no  fervice  ;  yet  it  is 
as  certain  that  in  our  prefent  fituation  it  is  of  that  real 
value  as  to  procure  all  the  conveniences  of  life,  l^he 
way  then  to  treat  fuch  fubjedls  is  not  to  ufe  thefe  rhetorical 
phrafes  in  contempt  of  riches,  but  to  fiiow  from  experi- 
ence that  they  are  good  or  evil  according  to  the  temper  of 
him  that  ufes  them,  and  that  we  fee  difcontent  and  ungo- 
verned  paflion  find  as  eafy  accefs  to  the  anti-chamber  of 
the  prince  as  the  cottage  of  the  poor.     The  fame  thing  I 


470  Lectures  ok 

would  fay  of  fame,  that  it  is  eafy  to  fay  fame  is  no  more 
but  idle  breath,  Sec.  but  the  great  matter  is  to  view  thofe 
things  in  a  fober  and  rational  light,  to  give  to  every  out- 
vjdsd  mercy  its  proper  value,  and  only  fhow  how  much 
they  arc  counter-balanced  by  things  of  infinitely  greater 
moment. 

But  what  I  have  often  obferved  v/ith  mofl:  regret  upon 
this  fubjedl  is,  young  perfons  carrying  the  things  that  are 
really  true  and  excellent  to  a  certain  excefs  or  high  pitch, 
that  is  beyond  nature,  and  does  not  tend  in  the  leaft  to 
promote  convidion,  but  rather  hinders  it.  When  mea 
fpeak  of  virtue  or  true  goodnefs,  they  are  apt  to  raife  the 
defcription  beyond  the  life  in  any  real  inflance,  and  whei% 
they  ipeak  of  vice  and  its  confequences  they  are  apt  to 
draw  the  character  fo  as  it  will  apply  only  to  a  {^^w  of  the 
moil  defperate  profligates,  and  the  miferable  flate  to  which 
they  reduce  themfelves.  This  rather  feems  to  fortify  the 
generality  of  perfons,  to  whom  thefc  defcription s  do  not 
apply,  in  their  carelefs  and  fecure  ftate. 

Once  morel  have  often obferved  young  perfons  frequent- 
ly choofe  as  their  fubje£t  affliflions,  of  which  probably  they 
have  had  very  little  experience,  and  fpeak  in  fuch  a  high 
llyle  as  if  every  good  man  were,  as  the  heroes  of  old, 
above  the  reach  of  every  accident.  And  it  is  true  that 
an  eminent  laint  is  fometimes  made  fuperior  to  all  his  fuf- 
ferings;  but  generally  fpeaking,  we  ought  to  be  very  tender 
of  fufferers,  till  we  ourfelves  have  been  in  the  furnace  of 
afflidtion  ;  and  after  that  we  fliall  not  need  be  told  fo. 
On  the  whole,  a  llri^l  adherence  to  truth  and  nature, 
and  taking  the  world  juft  as  it  is,  will  be  an  excellent  mean 
to  dire£l  us  in  every  part  of  our  public  fervice. 

6.  Laltly,  a  minifter  ought  to  have  extenfive  know- 
ledge. Every  thing  whatever  that  is  the  objed  of  hu- 
man knowledge,  may  be  made  fubfervient  to  theology. 
And  confidering  that  a  minifler  is  in  public  life,  and  has 
to  do  with  friends  and  enemies  of  all  ranks,  he  ought  to 
be  well  furnilhed  with  literature  of  every  kind*  At  the 
fame  time  I  would  have  this  well  underftood,  it  is  not  ne- 
cefiary,  and  I  think  it  is  not  defirable,  that  a  minifter 
fiK)uld  be  quite  an  adept  in  particular  branches  of  know* 


Eloquence,  47 1 

ledge,  except  thofe  that  are  clofely  related  to  this  proper 
work.  The  reafon  of  diis  is,  it  takes  more  time  to  be 
a  perfect  mafler  of  fome  of  the  particular  fciences  than  he 
has  to  fpare  from  his  duty,  and  therefore  with  a  talle  of 
the  feveral  fciences,  general  knowledge  is  moO:  fuited  to 
his  circumflances,  and  molt  neceflary  to  his  ufefulnefs. 


LECTURE    XV. 

I  PROCEED  now  to  the  eloquence  of  the  bar.  The 
profeflion  of  the  law  is  of  great  importance  in  the  Bri- 
tifh  dominions.  There  is,  therefore,  great  room  for  this 
fort  of  eloquence.  This,  indeed,  may  be  faid  to  be  the 
country  of  law,  not  only  on  account  of  its  being  a  free 
flate,  the  character  of  which  is,  that  not  man,  but  the  law^s, 
have  dominion,  v/hich  is  our  glory,  but  becaufe  by  the 
great  multiplicity  of  our  flatutes  it  becomes  an  important 
and  difficult  fclence.  For  both  thefe  reafona  there  are 
great  hopes  propofed  to  perfons  of  ability  in  this  depart- 
ment. They  have  not  only  the  reafonable  profpedl,  if  of 
tolerable  abilities  with  diligence  to  provide  an  iionorable 
fubfiflence  to  themfelves,  but  it  is  the  dire6l  road  to  pro- 
motion, and  the  way  of  obtaining  the  higheft  offices  in  the 
ftate. 

Here  as  in  the  former  particular,  we  mud  confider 
every  thing  as  already  faid,  that  belongs  to  the  fubjecl  in 
general ;  and  indeed  by  far  the  greatefl  number  of  valuable 
books  on  the  fubjed:  of  eloquence  having  been  draw^n  up 
by  pleaders  at  the  bar,  they  mufl  be  at  leail  as  much  or 
perhaps  more  directly  applicable  to  this  fpecies  as  any 
other.  I  cannot  help  however,  taking  notice  of  a  prepofler- 
ouspravftice  in  this  country  of  fome  who  take  Uiclr  children 
from  literature  before  they  hav^e  finiihed  their  courfe,  be-- 
caufe  they  intend  to  put  them  to  the  law.  This  mufl:  be 
voluntarily  confining  them  to  the  very  lowed  fort  of 
pradlice  in  that  profeffion,  for  if  any  whatever  Rand  in 
need  of  literature,  it  mull  be  the  lawyers.  Suppoan.'^  there- 
fore ail  that  has  been  laid  of  compofition;^  and  Ipeaking  in 


47:i  Lectures  on 

general,  there  are  a  few  particular  chara6lcrs  of  moil:  im- 
portance in  men  of  that  clafs. 

t.    Probity  or    real  untainted   integrity.     There  can 
be  no  doubt  that  integrity  is  the  firft  and  moll   important 
cliriracler  of  a  man,  be  his  profefTion  what   it  will ;  but  I 
have  mentioned  it  here  becaufe  there  are   many   not  fo 
fenfible  of  the  importance  of  it  in  the  pi-ofcflion  of  the 
law,  and  think  it  is  neceffary  to  make  a  good  man,  but 
not  a  good  lawyer.     On  the  contrary,  I  amj  perfuaded  not 
only  that  a  man  lofes  nothing  in  any  capacity  by  his  in- 
tegrity, but  that  a  lav/yer  Ihould  in  general  lludy  by  probi- 
ty and  real  worth  lo  obtain  refped  from  the  public,  and  to 
•give  weight  to  every  tiling  he  fays.     This  integrity  fliould 
ihow  itfelf  in  undertaking  caufes.     There  are  many  that 
think  there  is  no  ground  of  fcrnple  in  tliis   refpecl:,  and 
fometimes  they  are  found  to  boall:  v/ith  what  addrefs  they 
conduced,  and   with  what  iuccefs  they   carried  through 
a  very  weak  caufe.     I  apprehend  this  is  truly  difhonor- 
able,  and  as  there  are  plenty  of  caufes  in  Vv'hich  the  equi- 
ty is  doubtful,  everyone  who  fuould  make  it  a  point  of 
honor  not  to  undertake  a  caufe  Vvdiich  they  knev/  not  to  be 
juft,  it  would  give  unfpeakabie  influence  to  his  manage- 
ment   and  pleadings.     The  fiine   probity    ihouid    ap- 
pear in  the  manner  of  conducting  caufes.     No  fmifler 
arts,  no  equivocation  or  concealment  of  the  truth.  '  Per- 
tiaps  fome  may  think  that  thofe  who  ihould  be  confcience 
bound  in  this   manner  would  give   roguifn    perfons   an 
evident  advantage  over  them,  but  it  is  a  great  miftake* 
Let  them  ufe  but  prudence  andiirmnefs  joined  vv^ith  in^ 
tegrity,  and  they  are  an  overmatch  for  all  the  \'ii]ains  up- 
on earth.     The  common  proverb  is  certainly  juil  "  Ho- 
*'  nelly  is  the  bell  policy."     The  arts    of  chicanery  can 
only  fucceed  once  or  twice.     As  foon  as   a   man  gets 
the  reputation  of  cunning,  its  efFe6l  is  over,   for  nobody 
will  truft  him,  and  everybody  counterworks  him. 

2.  Another  excellent  quality  for  a  lawyer  is  affiduity 
and  method  in  bufmefs.  This  is  of  great  advantage  to 
the  very  bell  genius.  I  the  rather  infill  upon  it,  that 
there  prevails  often  a  fuppofition  that  it  is  not  the  quality 
of  a  great  man.     Becaufe  there  are  fome  perfons  of  very 


Eloquence.  473 

middling  abilities,  who  give  great  application,  and  are 
lovers  of  order,  therefore  fonie  are  pleafed  to  call  thofe 
dull  plodding  fellows,  and  think  it  is  a  mark  of  fire  and 
vivacity  to  be  irregular  both  in  their  bufinefs  and  in  their 
lives.  There  are  alfo  fome  few  men  of  real  and  great 
capacity  who  are  negligent  and  even  loofe  in  their 
pradlice,  who  rife  by  the  mere  force  of  fmgular  parts. 
Thefe  are  an  unhappy  example  to  thofe  fuperficial  crea- 
tures Vv^ho  think  by  imitating  them  in  their  folly,  that 
they  will  become  as  great  geniufes  as  they.  But  fufFer 
me  to  obferve  to  you,  that  the  greateft  geniufes  here  have 
been  remarkable  for  the  moft  vigorous  application,  and 
the  greatell  men  have  been  and  are  remarkable  for  order 
and  method,  in  every  thing  they  do.  There  is  a  certain 
dignity  which  arifes  from  a  man's  word  being  facred  even 
in  keeping  an  appointment  or  the  moft  trifling  circum- 
ftance  ;  and  for  people  of  bufmefs,  order  and  pun(^uarity 
gives  fo  much  eafe  to  themfelves,  and  pleafure  to  all  who 
have  to  do  with  them,  that  it  is  a  wonder  there  fliould  be 
any  body  that  does  not  lludy  it.  Is  there  any  genius, 
think  you,  in  throwing  down  a  thing  {o  unthinkingly, 
that  you  do  not  know  how  to  take  it  up  again  ?  The 
great  archbifliop  of  Cambray,  looks  upon  it  as  one  of  the 
moil  important  things  to  teach  young  perfons,  to  put 
every  thing  in  its  proper  place.  As  every  thing  that  be- 
longs to  furniture,  drefs,  books,  and  impliments,  muil  be 
in  fome  place,  they  are  always  beft  difpofttd  when  each 
is  in  its  own  place.  They  will  give  leaf!  dillurbance 
there  when  they  are  not  ufed,  and  they  will  be  moft  rea-' 
dily  found,  when  they  ought  to  be  ufed. 

But  when  we  come  to  loofe  and  vicious  practices,  it  is 
truly  entertaining  to  meet  with  riotous  diforderly  fellows, 
who  are  pleafed  to  fpeak  with  contempt  of  thole  v/ho  love 
form  and  good  order,  as  if  they  themfelves  were  men 
of  great  acutenefs.  Nov/  I  almoft  never  knew  an  exam- 
ple of  your  mifchief-v/orkers  but  they  were  thick  fculls. 
I  have  known  fome,  who  could  neither  write  a  jeft,, 
nor  fpeak  a  jeft  in  all  their  life,  but  had  tricks  enough 
they  could  play,  to  difturb  a  fober  neighborhood.  I 
have  thus  been  led  back  to  the  irregularities  of  youth 

Vol.  III.  3  O 


474  Lectures  on 

from  fpeaking  of  method  in  bufmefs,  as  of  importance  i0 
lawyers.  I  Ihall  conclude  the  obfervation  with  faying, 
that  there  is  no  great  profpedl  of  a  man's  ever  being  lord 
chancellor,  who  fpends  his  time  in  fcouring  the  llreets 
and  beating  the  watch,  when  he  is  at  the  inns  of  court. 

3.  Another  quality  ufeful  to  a  lawyer  is  addrefs,  and 
delicacy  in  his  manners  and  deportment  in  general  and 
the  conduct  of  his  bufmefs  in  particular,  and  above  all 
in  pleading  and  public  fpeaking.  The  addrefs  and  deli- 
cacy I  mean,  are  fuch  as  are  acquired  by  the  knowledge 
of  human  nature,  and  fome  -acquaintance  with  human 
life.  They  are  ufeful  I  admit,  for  every  public  fpeak- 
er,  but  if  I  am  not  miftaken,  much  more  needful  to 
the  lawyer  than  the  clergyman.  The  clergyman  pro- 
ceeds upon  things  of  acknowledged  moment,  a  certain 
dignity  of  chara6ler  is  allowed  him,  and  expe6led  from 
him.  A  pretended  delicacy  is  fometimes  ofFenfive  in 
him.  A  certain  firmnefs,  not  to  call  it  boldnefs,  and  im- 
partiality in  adminiflering  infi:ru6lion  and  reproof,  are 
ornaments  in  him.  But  a  lawyer  muft  always  confider 
the  propriety  of  time  and  place — What  belongs  to  him 
that  fpeaks,  or  to  him  or  them  that  are  fpoken  to,  or  that 
are  fpoken  of.  There  are  fome  fine  examples  of  addrefs- 
and  delicacy  in  Cicero,  particularly  in  his  oration  pro 
Rofcio, — pro  Milone — et  de  lege  agraria. 

4.  A  fourth  quality  neceffary  for  a  lawyer,  is  extenfive 
knowledge  in  the  arts  and  fciences,  inhifiory  and  in  the 
laws.  A  perfon  that  means  to  rife  or  attain  to  fome  of 
the  highefl:  degrees  of  this  profeiTion,  mult  flrive  to  accom- 
plifhhimfelf  by  knowledge  in  the  arts  and  fciences.  His 
bufniefs  is  of  a  public  kind,  the  caufes  he  may  have  oc- 
cafion  to  treat,  are  exceedingly  various.  What  adverfarie& 
he  may  meet  v/ith  he  is  altogether  uncertain.  I  do  not 
inean  that  a  lawyer  need  to  be  an  adept  in  particular 
branches  of  fcience,  but  the  principles  of  knowledge  in 
general,  are  very  neceffary,  otherwife  he  will  frequently 
expofe  himfelf.  Grofs  ignorance  in  the  fciences,  w^ilt 
\<\.Y  him  open  to  blunders  in  language,  which  he  couk! 
not  otherwife  avoid.  Hiflory  alfo  is  a  branch  of  litera- 
ture that  a  lawyer  fliould  make  his  favorite  ftudy,  as  his 


Eloquence,  4^5 

bufinefs  lies  in  canvaiTing  the  various  relations  of  nien  in 
ibcial  life,  he  will  be  beft  able  to  reafon  on  the  meaning 
and  propriety  of  laws  and  their  application  if  he  be 
well  acquainted  with  hillory,  which  points  out  the  ftate 
of  fociety,  and  human  affairs  in  every  age.  As  to 
knowledge  of  the  laws,  this  is  what  lawyers  cannot  da 
without,  and  what  therefore  they  do  neceflarily  ftudy^ 
but  it  would  be  much  to  their  advantage  if  they  would 
add  to  the  knowledge  of  the  municipal  laws  of  their  own 
country,  a  knowledge  of  the  great  principles  of  equity, 
and   of  natural  and  political  law,  as  applied  in  general. 

5.  The  laft  quality  I  fliall  mention  as  of  ufe  to  a 
lawyer,  is  quicknefs  and  vivacity.  It  is  of  ufe  to  him 
to  have  an  acutenefs  and  penetration  to  obferve  the  turns 
of  a  caufe.  To  deiecl  the  plots  and  fallacy  of  adverfa- 
ries,  as  well  as  to  anfwer  upon  the  fpot,  whatever  may 
be  thrown  up.  I  am  fenfible  that  this  of  quicknefs  is  en- 
tirely a  natural  quality,  and  cannot  be  learned  ;  but  I 
thought  it  befl:  to  obferve  it,  becaufe  it  is  of  more  ufe  to 
a  lawyer  than  to  moil  other  men.  A  minifl;er  is  only 
called  to  fpeak  what  he  has  deliberately  prepared,  and  ful- 
ly digefled,  but  a  lawyer  quite  incapable  of  extemporary^ 
productions,  would  not  do  fo  well.  It  is  alfo  certain,  that 
wit,  which  is  intolerable  in  the  pulpit,  is  often  not  bare- 
ly pardonable  in  a  lawyer,  but  very  ufeful.  There  is 
however,  fuch  a  difference  in  the  capacity  of  men,  that 
one  may  be  eminent  in  one  branch,  and  defective  in 
another.  A  man  of  coolnefs,  penetration  and  applica- 
tion is  often  eminent  in  chamber  councils,  and  one  of 
vivacity,  paffion  and  elocution,  eminent  in  pleading 
caufes,  efpecially  in  criminal  courts.  - 

The  third  and  lall  divifion  of  this  clafs,  is  the  elo- 
quence of  promifcuous  deliberative  affemblies.  I  lliall  not 
be  very  long  upon  this  fubjedl;,  but  as  it  is  far  from  being 
improbable  that  fome  here  prefent  may  in  future  life  have 
occafion  to  a6l  in  that  fphere,  and  to  be  members  of  the 
provincial  affemblies,  I  fliall  make  a  few  remarks  upon 
it  to  that  purpofe.  In  large  deliberative  affemblies  of 
tJae  political  kind,  there  is  nearly  as  much  opportunit]^ 


'476  Lectures  on 

for  fervor  and  paffion,  as  there  is  to  the  divine,  and  more 
fcope  for  wit  and  humor,  than  to  the  lawyer.  For  though 
no  matters  of  a  merely  temporal  kind,  are  of  equal  mo- 
ment in  themfelves,  with  the  things  aminifter  has  to  treat 
of,  yet  men's  pafTions  are  alnioft  as  much,  and  in  many 
cafes  more  excited  and  interefted  by  them.  The  fate  of 
nations,  the  welfare  of  our  country,  liberty  or  fervitude, 
may  often  feem  to  want  as  violent  an  exertion  of  the  paf- 
fionate  kind  of  eloquence,  as  any  fubjedt  whatever. 

It  is  worth  while  to  obferve,  that  feveral  writers  in  fpeak- 
ing  of  the  ancient  and  modern  eloquence,  have  taken  it  for 
granted,  that  the  circumilances  of  things  are  changed;  that 
the  violent  pafTionate  eloquence  that  prevailed  in  Greece 
and  Rome,  would  not  do  in  modern  times.  They  will 
tell  you,  that  in  a  modern  fenate,  or  other  deliberative  af- 
fembly,  people  come  all  prepared  by  private  interefl,  and 
■will  vote  juft  as  they  are  engaged,  without  regard  to  either 
eloquence  or  truth  ;  but  fome  very  able  writers  have  de- 
livered a  contrary  opinion,  particularly  David  Hume,  who 
though  an  infidel  in  opinion,  is  of  great  reach  and  accu- 
racy of  judgment  in  matters  of  criticifm.  He  has  faid 
that  human  nature  is  always  the  fame,  and  that  the  elo- 
quence which  kindles  and  governs  the  paffion s,  will  al- 
ways have  great  influence  in  large  affemblies,  let  them  be 
cf  what  llation  or  rank  foever.  I  apprehend,  that  expe- 
rience, fmce  his  writing  the  above,  has  fully  juftified  it  by 
two  fignal  examples :  one  in  the  ftate,  and  the  other  in 
the  church.  Mr.  Pitt,  now  Earl  of  Chatham,  from  being 
a  colonel  of  dragoons,  rofe  to  the  highefl  ftation  in  the 
Britifh  empire,  merely  by  the  power  of  a  warm  and  paf- 
fionate  eloquence ;  there  was  never  any  thing  in  his  dif- 
courfes,  that  are  remarkable  either  for  flrength  of  reafon- 
ing,  or  purity  and  elegance  of  llyle  ;  but  a  very  great  im- 
petuofity  and  fire,  that  carried  his  point  in  the  Britifli  houfe 
of  commons.  The  other  inflance  is  the  late  Mr.  Whit- 
field, who  acquired  and  preferved  a  degree  of  popularity, 
to  which,  the  prefent  age  never  faw  any  thing  that  could 
be  compared :  the  happy  ends  that  were  promoted  by 
this  in  providence,  I  omit,  as  a  fubje61:  of  a  different  na- 
ture J  but  the  immediate  and  fecond  caufes  that  produced 


'Eloquence.  ~  477 

it  were  a  power  of  elocution  and  natural  talents  for  pub- 
lic fpeaking,  fuperior  by  far  to  any,  that  ever  I  faw  pof- 
feffed  by  any  man  on  earth. 

To  fucceed  in  fpeaking  in  public  deliberative  aflem- 
blies,  the  following  are  the  moil  important  qualities  :  (i) 
Dignity  of  character  and  difmtereftednefs.  In  public  de- 
liberations, it  is  not  eafy  to  procure  attention  unlefs  there 
is  fome  degree  of  charatler  preferved  ;  and  indeed,  where- 
ver there  is  a  high  opinion  of  the  candor  and  fmcerity  of 
the  fpeaker,  it  will  give  an  inconceivable  weight  to  his 
fcntiments  in  debate. 

(2)  There  is  a  neceflity  of  knowledge  of  the  moil  libe- 
ral kind,  that  is,  the  knowledge  of  men  and  manners,  of 
hillory,  and  of  human  nature.  The  moft  fuccefsful  fpeak- 
ers  in  fenates,  are  generally  thofe  who  know  mankind 
beft  ;  and  if  a  man  would  uniformly  preferve  his  charac- 
ter and  influence  in  this  light,  he  mud  addift  himfelf  to 
theitudy  of  hillory,  and  the  exercife  of  refle6lion. 

(3)  To  this  fort  of  eloquence  is  particularly  necefTary 
power  over  the  pafTions.  This  is  one  of  the  mofl  impor- 
tant characters  of  eloquence  in  general ;  yet  it  is  more 
peculiarly  neceffary,  and  more  eminently  powerful  in  pro- 
mifcuous  deliberative  affemblies,  than  in  any  other.  In 
religious  difcourfes,  the  eife£t  is  expelled  to  be  cool,  deep 
and  permanent.  Even  preachers  in  fmgle  difcourfes, 
rather  choofe  to  fpeak  as  writers,  than  as  pleaders ;  and 
lawyers,  except  in  fome  few  inftances,  may  expect  to  have 
t4ieir  aflertions  taken  to  pieces,  canvaffed  and  tried  one 
after  another ;  but  in  meetings  of  the  political  kind,  the 
decifion  is  to  be  by  a  vote,  before  the  diifolution  of  the  af- 
fembly,  and  cannot  be  altered  afterwards,  though  the  ma- 
jority fhould  change  their  fentiments.  In  thefe  aflem- 
blies  therefore,  to  be  fure,  a  power  over  the  paflions  mull 
be  of  the  utmoft  moment. 

I  fhall  conclude  this  particular  by  two  Subordinate  re- 
marks on  the  fame  fubjeft.  (i)  That  to  fucceed  in  fpeak- 
ing in  fenates  or  large  alTemblies,  there  is  much  need  of 
great  difcernment,  both  to  proportionate  men's  attempts 
to  their  capacity,  and  to  choofe  the  proper  time  for  ex- 
erting it.     When  information  is  demanded,  any  perfon 


478  Lectui'es  on 

who  can  give  it,  will  be  heard  with  patience  upon  it :  but 
on  fubjefts  of  high  political  importance,  where  there  are 
many  eminent  champions  on  each  fide,  even  perfons  of 
moderate  abilities  would  run  a  rifl^  of  being  affronted. 
{2)  The  other  direction  is,  that  all  who  intend  to  be  fpeak- 
crs  in  political  affemblies,  mud  begin  early  ;  if  they  de- 
lay beginning  till  years  fhall  add  maturity  to  their  judg- 
ment, and  weight  to  their  authority,  the  confequence  will 
be,  that  years  will  add  fo  much  to  their  caution  and  diffi- 
dence that  they  will  never  begin  at  all. 

We  come  now  to  confider  the  flru6lure  of  a  particular 
difcourfe — the  order  proportion  and  mutual  relation  of 
the  feveral  parts.  Orators,  or  critics  on  oratory  very 
early  learned  to  analyfe  a  difcourfe,  and  to  enumerate 
the  parts  of  which  it  is  compofsd.  They  are  a  little 
differently  ftpcted  by  different  authors  ;  fome  reckon  four, 
introduction,  propofition,  confirmation  and  conclufion ; 
others,  five,  adding  narration ;  others,  fix,  adding  refuta- 
tion ;  and  there  are  fome  difcourfes  in  which  you  may 
eafily  have  each  of  thefe  different  things  ;  but  confidering 
that  we  mufl  take  this  matter  fo  generally,  as  to  include 
all  kinds  of  compofition,  it  would  be  J  think  as  well  to 
adopt  the  divifion  in  poetical  criticifm,  and  fay  that  every 
regular  difcourfe  or  compofition  of  every  kind,  mufl  have 
a  beginning,  a  middle,  and  an  end.  Every  performance, 
however  fliort,  muff  be  capable  of  fome  fuch  divifion, 
otherv/ife  it  is  called  abrupt  and  irregular.  The  reafon 
why  I  would  make  the  divifion  in  this  manner  is,  that  the 
beginning  is  properly  the  introduction  ;  the  middle  in- 
cludes every  thing  however  various,  that  is  taken  into 
the  body  of  a  difcourfe  ;  now  thefe  may  be  very  many, 
propofition,  narration,  explication,  confirmation,  illuflra- 
tion  and  refutation ;  but  thefe  are  not  all  requifite  in  every 
difcourfe,  and  are  to  be  introduced  in  propofitions  varia- 
ble and  accidental,  according  to  the  nature  of  every  par- 
ticular fubje6l. 

^  Let  us  fpeak  firfl  of  the  intro:Iu6lion — This  is  the  more 
neceifary,  that  it  is  of  very  confiderable  importance,  efpe- 
cially  to  an  orator  ;  it  is  alfo  difficult,  at  leaf!  fpeakers 
h2MQ  generally  faid  fo.     We  find  it  faid  ia  fome  of  the 


Eloquence.  479 

books  of  oratory,  that  the  introdu6lloii  though  firft  pra- 
nounced,  ought  to  be  laft  compoled — tliat  it  comes  to  be 
Goalidered  alter  the  difcourfe  is  fmifhed  ;  but  this  does 
not  appear  to  me  to  be  either  natural  or  neceifary,  ex- 
cept in  a  qualified  fenfe ;  the  introdudion  is  commonly 
fettled  alter  the  lubject  is  pitched  upon,  the  diilrlbutioa 
planned  and  digefled,  and  ilich  refledion  upon  the  whole 
as  precedes  writing. 

The  ends  in  an  i  ntrodudtion,  are  faid  by  Cicero  to  be 
thefe,  Reddere  auditorem  attentum,  benevokim  et  doci- 
lem  ;  to  make  the  reader  attentive  to  the  dircourfe,  favor- 
able to  the  ipeaker,  and  willing  to  receive  inilrudlion  upon 
the  fubje6l.  Thefe  different  views  may  not  only  be  alter- 
ed in  their  order,  at  the  judgment  of  the  orator,  but  any  of 
them  may  be  left  out  when  it  is  unneceiTary  ;  if,  for  ex- 
ample, 1  have  noreafon  to  fufpeiSt  difafieclion  in  any  of 
my  hearers,  long  apologies,  efpecially  if  any  way  peribnal, 
are  rather  difguiling. 

The  ways  of  procuring  either  attention,  a  favor,  or 
making  the  hearers  teachable,  are  fo  various,  that  they 
can  neither  enuYnerated  nor  clafi'ed.  In  this,  the  orator 
iriuil  exercife  his  invention,  judgment  and  good  talie. 
The  moll  ufual  manner  of  introduclion,  is  a  common 
place  upon  the  importance  of  the  fubje8:  ;  the  introduc- 
tions drav/n  irom  the  circumilances  of  time,  place  and 
perfon,  are  generally  the  moll  llriking  ;  fometimes  an 
vmufual  ilroke  is  happy  in  an  introduction,  as  alfo  a 
w^eighty  reflection  or  bold  fentiment  on  the  fubjed:  itfelf. 
A  funeral  fermon  was  happily  begnn  by  Mr.  Baxter,  in 
tliis  manner  ;  '^  Death  is  the  occaiion  of  our  prefent  meet- 
V'  ing,  and  death  fnall  be  the  fubjeCl  of  the  following  dif- 
"  courfe  ;  I  am  to  fpeak  of  that  which  Ihall  fnortly  filence 
"  me,  and  you  all  to  hear  of  that  which  fliall  fpeedily 
"  Hop  your  ears."  Dr.  Evans  begins  a  fermon  on 
Ecclef.  xii.  10.  ''  Rejoice  O  young  man,"  &c.  by  telling 
a  ftory  of  a  ibldier  whofe  life  was  fived  by  a  bible  in  his 
pocket,  and  his  converfion  produced  by  the  accident ;  the 
bible  laved  him  from  being  Ihot  through  with  a  bullet,  and 
when  he  examined,  it  had  juft  pierced  the  leaves  through, 
till  it  Hopped  at  that  pallage,  which  no  doubt  he  read 


480  Lectures  on 

with  particular  emotions.  A  difcourfe  of  a  lawyer  in  a 
kw-fuit,  is  generally  bell  begun  by  a  narrative  of  the  oc- 
cafion  of  the  quarrel,  and  the  introducing  of  any  common- 
place topics  would  be  reckoned  affe6lation.  A  clergy- 
man may  often  have  an  introduction  to  his  fubjeCl  with 
advantage,  and  may  alfo  often  begin,  by  a  concife  view  of 
the  context,  or  the  occafion  of  the  words  he  has  chofen  ta 
difcourfe  upon. 

Perhaps  what  will  be  of  moft  ufe  here,  will  be  to  point 
out  feveral  ways  by  which  an  introduction  may  be  faulty  ; 
of  thefe  I  flia^ll  mention  the  following  : 

1.  An  introduction  may  be  faulty,  by  being  too  pom- 
pous and  extravagant.  This  is  one  of  the  moil  commoa 
faults  in  the  prefaces  or  introductions  to  books.  When 
an  author  is  to  write  upon  any  fubjeCt,  he  thinks  it  necef- 
fary  to  ihow,  not  only  that  his  fubjeCl  is  worth  the  handling, 
but  that  it  is  better  than  all  other  fubjeCls.  Weak  and 
pedantic  writers  are  ©ften  guilty  of  this  to  a  degree  that  is- 
ridiculous.  A  treatife  on  authentic,  fometimes  is  intro- 
duced by  a  pompous  proof  that  the  knowledge  of  numbers 
is  either  fuperior  to,  or  the  bafis  of  all  other  knowledge  ; 
the  fame  thing  is  done  with  grammar  ;  and  there  is  often 
a  general  truth  or  plaufibility  from  which  the  ridicule  to 
which  they  expofe  themfelves,  takes  it  rife  ;  for  to  be  fure, 
number  is  every  where  ;  every  thing  that  ever  was  or  can 
be,  muil  be  either  one  or  more.  As  to  grammar,  all  good 
fenfe  muft  certainly  be  grammar ;  yet  there  are  fome- 
times perfons  who  would  be  thought  to  underftand  both 
thefe  fubjeds  very  well,  who  could  not  fpeak  five  fenten- 
ces,  or  write  a  letter,  without  being  defervedly  laughed  at. 

2.  An  introduction  may  be  faulty,  by  being  general. 
We  fee  often  reflections  in  the  introduction  to  a  difcourfe^ 
that  would  be  jufl  as  proper  for  one  fubjeCt,  as  for  another. 
Such  fentiments  may  be  faid  to  go  before,  but  they  can- 
not be  faid  to  introduce  their  fubjeCt.  Sometimes  you 
will  hear  the  introduction  almoit  out,  before  you  can  con- 
jecture what  is  to  be  the  fubjeCt ;  and  fome  are  fo  unhap- 
py in  the  choice  of  introductory  fentiments,  that  you 
would  think  they  intend'  fomething  that  is  very  different 
from  v/hat  really  appears  in  the  piece  itfelf. 


'"Eloquence,  ^Zt 

3.  It  Is  a  fliult  In  an  introdu6lIon  to  be  fiiled  with  re- 
niarks  quite  beaten  and  hackneyed,  if  I  may  fpeak  fo. 
Thefe  may  have  been  very  good  remarks  or  fentiments 
when  firfl  conceived  and  uttered  ;  but  by  perpetual  repe- 
tition have  loft  their  force,  and  from  the  very  cornmonnefs 
appear  mean  and  defpicable.  They  are  many  of  therh 
founded  upon  fayings  in  the  claffic  authors,  and  in  the 
paft  age  were  comm.only  produced  as  quotations,  with 
their  paraphrafe,  fuch  as  "  omne  tulit  punclum  qui  mif- 
cuit  utile  dulci."     "  Ingratum  fi  dixeris  omnia  dixeris/' 

4.  An  introdutlion  may  be  forced  and  unnatural ; 
that  is  to  fay,  fuch  remarks  may  be  made  as  it  requires 
a  great  deal  of  pains  to  fhow  any  relation  between  thciii 
and  the  fubjedl  to  be  treated. 

5.  It  may  be  fanciful  or  whimfical.  There  was  an 
age  when  thefe  fort  of  introdu6lions  were  to  the  tafte  of 
the  public.  This  fancy  or  w^him,  or  as  I  may  call  it, 
a  finical  way  of  entering  upon  a  fubje6l  publicly,  may 
be  beft  illuftrated  by  an  example.  An  author  of  the  laft: 
age*  begins  a  difcourfe  upon  ch.  viii,  of  the  Epiftle  to  the 
Romans,  v.  28,  to  this  purpofe  :  The  Scriptures  may 
be  confidered  as  a  large  and  rich  garden. — The  New  Tef- 
tament  is  the  moft  valuable  divifion  of  that  garden — The 
Epiftle  to  the  Romans  is  the  richeft  compartment  of  that 
divifion ;  the  8th  chap,  is  the  moft  delightful  border  of  that 
compartment,  and  the  28th  verfe  the  fineft  flower  of  that 
border. 

6.  An  introdudlion  may  be  faulty  by  being  tedious. 
An  introdu6lion  is  defigned  to  whet  the  attention,  and 
excite  impatience  for  wdiat  is  to  follow.  But  when  it  is 
very  long  it  not  only  difgufts  by  the  difappointment,  but 
waftes  that  attention  which  fhould  be  preferved  in  full  vi- 
gor, or  raifes  a  high  expe(5lation,  which  is  probably  for 
that  reafon  difappointcd. 

As  to  the  middle  or  body  of  a  difcourfe,  the  chief  thing 
to  be  attended  to  in  this  place  is,  to  make  you  fenfible  of 
what  it  confifts.  The  former  difcourfes  have  ail  been  intend- 
ed to  teach  you  the  way  of  compofition,  both  as  to  materials 
and  ftrudlure ;  yet  as  to  the  method  of  condu(^ixig  a  par^ 

Vol.  III.  7  P 


4'fe  Lectures'^ 

ticnlar  difcourfe,  I  would  make  die  diree  folIoWing  re- 
marks :  (i.)  Ee  Garefiii  of  the  order  of  the  feveral  par- 
ticulars mentioned.  You  may  not  fee  it  proper  to  intro- 
duce all  in  the  conTpafs  of  a  fmgle  difcourfe,  but  fo  far 
as  they  are  introduced  they  fliould  be  in  the  following  or- 
der :  Propofition,  narration,  illuflration,  confirmation, 
refutation.  You  will  fpeedily  perceive  this  to  be  the  or- 
der of  nature,  to  lay  dow^n  the  method,  narrate  the  fa^ts, 
illuflrate  them  by  whatever  may  have  that  effedt,  adduce 
the  proofs,  refolve  objedlions.  A  perfon  of  a  clear  head 
will  range  his  fentiments  in  this  order — yet  there  are  ibme 
exceptions  to  be  admitted.  Sometimes  it  is  ufeful  in  a 
taufe  to  referve  a  part  of  the  llory  itfelf,  to  apply  or  il- 
luflrate an  argument — and  in  feme  few  inflances  it  is 
befl  to  anfwer  obje£lions,  or  remove  prejudices,  before 
you  adduce  your  proofs* 

(2.)  It  is  a  mofl  ufeful  diredion  to  the  greateft  part  of 
writers  and  fpeakers  to  guard  againfl  introducing  every- 
thing that  they  might  fay,  or  being  fo  formal  that  they 
will  fay  fomething  in  the  way  of  form  in  every  one  of  their 
divifions*  This  analyfis  ©f  a  difcourfe  is  good  for  making 
the  judgment  clekr ;  but  if  it  be  applied  merely  to  make 
the  invention  copious,  it  will  probably  produce  an  un- 
iieeefTary  load.  Some  people  will  needs  anfwer  objedlions 
on  any  lubje£t,  and  frequently  teach  their  hearers  to  make 
obj^(5lionS'  which  they  never  would  have  thought  of. 

3.  Learn  to  keep  clofe  to  a  fubjedl,  and  bring  in  nothing 
but  what  is  truly  of  force  to  the  point  to  be  proved.  I  the 
rather  mention  this  as  a  rule  for  the  middle  or  body  of  a 
difcourfe,  becauie  the  moll  are  there  are  apt  to  tranfgrefs 
it.  In  the  introdu6lion  and  the  conclufion,  every  one 
but  thofe  who  are  perfectly  llupid  keep  their  fubjedl  directly 
in  their  eye  ;  whereas  in  the  body,  when  they  are  entered 
upon  argument  and  amplification,  they  are  apt  to  be  led 
aftray,  and  either  to  fall  into  what  may  be  called  abfolute 
digreffions,  or  at  leafl  to  lengthen  fome  parts  more  than 
true  proportion  requires. 

As  to  the  conclufion  or  peroration,  to  this  may  be  ap- 
plied  particularly  all    that   was  faid   upon  pathos,   or 


Eloquexice,  4^53 

raifing  the  paffions,  to  which  I  add  the  following  Ihort  ob- 
fervations : 

(i.)  The  conclivfion  fhould  be  by  far  the  warmed  and 
moll  animated  part  of  the  difcourfe.  It  is  not,  I  think, 
defirable  to  attempt  to  raife  the  paflions  of  an  audience 
high  till  towards  the  clofe  of  a  difcourfe,  becaufe,  if  it  be 
begun  fooner,  there  is  an  evident  hazard  of  not  being 
able  to  preferve  them  in  the  fame  pitch  till  the  end. 

(2.)  The  conclufion  fhould  colledl  into  one  point  of 
view,  by  fome  well  chofen  expreiTions,  the  force  of  what 
has  gone  before,  and  the  greateft  ikill  ia  the  fpeaker  itJ 
ihown  by  coucentrating  the  whole  in  this  manner.  Be- 
fore the  illuftration  it  could  not  be  faid  fo  briefly  ;  but  by 
the  help  of  what  went  before,  it  may  be  recalled  to  me- 
mory in  lefs  room. 

(3.)  Towards  the  conclufion  the  fentences  fhould  be 
jludied,  the  tone -of  voice  higher,  and  the  pronunciation 
inore  rapid  than  towards  the  beginning. 

(4.)  Laftly,  great  care  fiiould  he  taken  in  moral  df. 
courfes  to  have  bo  far-fetched  inferences. 


LECTURE    XVL 

I  AM  now  to  conclude  the  difcourfes  upon  this  fubje® 
by  an  inqair)'  into  the  general  principles  of  tafte  and 
criticifm.      In  the  former  difcourfes  we  have  .kept  clofe 
to  the  arts  of  writing  and  fpeaking,  and  have  attempted 
to  deicribe  the  various  kinds  -.of  x:om^x)fition,  their  cha- 
i'a^Lers,  diRin.ftLons,  beauties,  blemifnes,  the   means    of 
attaining  fliill  in  them,  and  the  ufes  to  which  they  fliould 
J)e  applied.     But  is  it  not  proper  to  confider  the  alliance, 
if  there  be  any  fuch,  between  this  and  other  arts  ?  This 
will  ferve  gre?.tly  to  improve  and  perfect  our  judgment 
and  tafte.     It  was  very  early  obierved,  that  there  was  a 
relation  between  the  different   arts  imd   Ibme   common 
rprinciples,  that  determine  their  excellence.    Cicero  men^ 
tions  this  in  the  introdu^ion  of  his  oration  for  Archiaj? 
the  poet.    Etenim  omnes  artes  quse  ad  humanitatem  'ntv^ 
$inent,  habent  qusedam  inter  fe  continentur* 


484  Lectures  mi 

Thefe  arts,  which  Cicero  fays,  Ad  humanitatem  per- 
tinent, are  called  by  the  moderns  the  line  arts.     This  is 
to  diftinguiih  them  from  thofe  commonly  called  the  me- 
chanic arts,  making  the  utenfils  and  conveniences  of  com- 
mon life.    And  yet  even  thefe  may  be  included,  as  taft^ 
and  elegance,  or  the  want  of  it  may  plainly  be  difcerned 
in  every   prodmft:ion  of   human  ikill.    However,   thofe 
called  the  line  arts   are  the  following:  Poetry,  oratory, 
mufic,  painting,  fculpture,  archite(5lure.     It  mufl  be  al- 
lowed that,  though  thefe  a.rts  have  fome  common  princi- 
ples  of  excellence,  there  are  fome  perfons  who  have  a 
itrong  inclination  after,  and  even  a  capacity  of  perform- 
ing in  fome  of  them,  and  not  in  others.     There  are  good 
orators  who  are  no  muficians,  or  perhaps  who  have  very 
little  tafle  for  the  beauties  of  architecture.     Yet  commonly 
complete  critics,  and  thofe  who  have  a  well  formed  tafte, 
are  able  to  perceive  the  beauty  of  the  whole,  and  the  re- 
lation of  one  to  another.     It  is  remarkable  that  the   ex- 
preffions  in  compofiti on  are  frequently  borrowed  from  one 
art  and  applied  to  another.     We  fay  a  fmooth,   polifhcd 
flyle,  as  well  as  a  polifhed  furface  ;  and  we  fay  a  building 
is  fweet  or  elegant,  as  well  as  an  oration.     We   fay  the 
notes  in  mufic  are   bold  and  fwelling,  or  v/arm  and  ani- 
iKiated. 

One  of  our  modern  authors  on  eloquence,  has 
thought  fit  to  ta.ke  exception  at  the  ufe  of  the  word 
taste ^  as  being  of  late  invention,  and  as  implying 
nothing  but  what  is  carried^  in  judgment  and  genius. 
But  I  apprehend  that  the  application  of  it,  though  it 
Ihould  be  admitted  to  be  modern,  is  perfeclly  juft.  It 
'  came  to  us  from  the  French.  The  bon  gout  among  them 
was  applied  firll  to  claffic  elegance,  and  from  thence  to 
all  the  other  arts.  And  as  a  fenfe  of  the  beauty ~of  the 
arts  is  certainly  a  thing  often  diilin^:  from  judgment,  as 
well  as  from  erudition  ;  the  term  feems  not  only  to  be  al- 
lowable, but  well  chofen.  '  We  find  perfons  who  can 
reafon  very  llrongly  Upon  many  fubje6ls,  who  yet  are  ill - 
capable  of  elegance  in  compofition,  and  indeed  of  receiv- 
ing much  delight  from  the  other  ^mt  arts.  Nay,  we  find 
perfons  of  iincom-mon  aculenefs  in  mathematics  and  na- 


Eloquence.  4^5 

tural  philofophy,  who  yet  are  incapable  of  attaining  to  a 

iine  tafte. 

It  has  been    fometimes  faid,    that  talle    is  arbitrary. 
Some  will  have  it,  that  there  is  no  fuch  thing  as  a  ftand- 
ard  of  taRe  or  any  method  of  improving  it.     It  is  a  kind 
of  common  proverb  with  many,  that  there  is  no  difput- 
ino-  about  talle.     That  it  is  of  this  iutelle(Staal  as  of  na- 
tural tafte,   according  as  the  palate  or  organs  are  differ- 
ently formed,  what  gives  an  agreeable  reliih  to  one,  gives 
a  dilagreeable  one  to  another.     They  fay  that  the  modes 
of  taite  are  temporary  and  variable — that  different  nati- 
ons,   climates,    governments,  and  ages,  have  different 
ways  of  fpeaking  and  v/riting,  and  a  different  turn  nl  all 
the  arts — that  chance  or  particular  perfons  will  be  able  to 
give  a  turn  to  the  mode  in    all  thefe.     Even  fo  great  a 
man  as  Dr.  Warburtonhas  embraced  this  fentiment,  and 
to  thofe  who  attack  the  Scriptures  as  not  being  a  com- 
plete model  of  eloquence  he  anfwers  there   is  no  fixed 
ilandard  of  eloquence.     That  eloquence  is  one  thing  in 
Arabia,  another  in  Greece,  and  another  in  England,  for 
this  reafon  he  condemns  thofe  who  after  the  example  of 
.Mr.  Blackwell  in'  his  facred  claffics,  vindicates  the  Scrip- 
tures from  objections  of  this  kind,  or  produce  inflances 
of  their  fublimity  and  beauty.     But  though  I  have  iliown 
■you  in  fome  of  the  former  difcourfes,  that  the  flyle  and 
manner  in  vogue  will  receive  fome  tintlure  and  be  liable 
to  fome   variation  from  all   the  particulars    mentioned, 
5>et  there  is  certainly  a  real  beauty  or  deformity  in  na- 
ture, independent  of  thefe  partial   changes  which  when 
properly  explained  and  examples  of  it  exhibited,  will  ob- 
tain more  univerfal  approbation,  and  retain  it  longer  than 
the  others.     The  poetry  and  oratory  of  the  ancients  and 
their  painting  and  itatuary,  are  inilances  and  proofs  of 
this.     It  may  alfo  appear  from  what  I   mentioned  to  you 
formerly,    that  thofe  compofitions  which  have  moft  lim- 
plicity  and  fuch  excellencies  as  are  mod  folid,  Vv^ith  f(^w- 
ell  of  the  cafual  ornaments  of  fafliion,  and  the  peculia- 
rities  of   their  own  age  pleafe,  when  their  contempora- 
ries are  lofl:   in  oblivion.     The  fame  thing  holds  with 
pieces  of  furniture  that  are  elegant  but  plain.    Such  have 
the  beauties  of  nature,   and  that  belong  to  t\'Qry  age". 

V  ......  ■  - 


4^6  Li€clurcs  on 

3ut  to  fliow  this  more  fully  even  the  remarks  upon  na- 
tural tafte  is  not  true  in  iuch  a  fenfe  as  to  weaken  what 
has  been  faid.  For  though  it  is  certain  that  perfons  ufed 
to  the  coarleft  kind  of  food  which  they  have  often  eat  with 
relifh,  may  fhow  at  firll  an  averfion  to  the  delicacies  of 
cookery,  3'et  after  a  perfon  has  been  a  little  accuflomed 
to  that  kind  of  preparation  of  vidluals  in  which  regard 
-fs  had  to  the  mixtures  that  are  moil  proper  to  gratify 
the  palate  will  not  eafdy  return  to  his  lloveniy  provifion. 
But  though  there  were  lefs  in  this  remark,  it  feems  plaiu 
that  there  is  a  tafte  in  the  fine  arts,  and  a  real  foundation 
for  it  in  nature. 

But  fuppofmg  that  there  is  a  foundation  in  nature  for 
tafte  and  criticifm,  there  is  another  queftion  that  arifes, 
viz.  Can  we  tell  what  it  is  ?  Can  we  reach  the  original 
principles  which  govern  this  matter  ?  Can  we  fay  not 
only  that  fuch  and  fuch  things  pleafe  us,  but  why  they  do 
io  ?  Can  we  go  any  further  than  we  have  already  done, 
as  to  compofition  ?  Some  have  refufed  that  we  can  with 
certainty  reach  the  fourcc  of  this  fubje6t.  When  the  caufe 
i5  afked,  why  one  perfon,  one  thing,  or  one  compofition  is 
more  excellent  than  another,  they  fay  it  is  an  immediate 
and  fimple  perception,  a  je  nc  fcais  quoi,  as  the  French 
fay,  which  phrafe  feems  to  have  taken  its  rife  from  the 
circumftance  which  often  occurs,  that  in  a  houfe,  a  gar- 
den, a  ft.atue  or  painting,  or  even  in  a  perfon's  counte- 
nance and  carriage,  you  perceive  fomething  agreeable 
upon  the  whole,  and  yet  cannot  fuddcnly  tell  wherein  it 
lies,  the  parts  are  not  better  proportioned  perhaps,  nor 
the  features  better  formed  than  in  another,  and  yet  there 
is  fomething  in  the  compofition  of  the  whole  that  gives 
the  moll  exquifite  delight. 

Others  however,  and  the  far  greateft  number,  have 
thought  it  proper  to  go  a  great  deal  further,  and  to  inr 
quire  into  human  nature,  its  perceptions  and  powers, 
and  endeavor  to  trace  out  the  principles  of  tafte,  which 
apply  in  general  to  all  the  fine  arts,  or  in  greater  or  lefs 
proportion  to  each  of  them,  for  fome  apply  more  to  one 
than  to  others.  As  for  example,  if  the  fenfe  of  harmony  is 
an  original  perception  it  applies  chiefly  to  mufic,  and 
remotely  to  the  pronunciation  of  an  orator,  and  ftiU 


Eloquence*  4§y 

more  remotely  to  the  compofition  of  an  [orator.  Thefe 
powers  or  perceptions  in  human  nature  have  been  gene- 
rally called  the  powers  of  imagination.  Mr.  Hutchinfon 
calls  them  reflex  fenfes,  finer  internal  fenfations  ;  and 
upon  examination  we  ihall  find  that  befides  the  internal 
fenfes,  there  are  certain  finer  perceptions,  which  we  are 
capable  of,  which  may  be  faid  to  take  their  rife  from  out- 
ward objedls,  and  to  fuppofe  the  external  fenfation,  but 
yet  to  be  additions  to,  and  truly  difi:incl  from  it.  As  for 
example,  I  fee  a  beautiful  perfon.  My  eye  immediately 
perceives  colour,  and  fliape  varioully  difpofed ;  but  I  have 
further  a  fenfe  of  beauty  in  the  whole.  I  hear  the  found 
of  mufical  inflruments ;  my  ear  receives  the  noife  ;  every 
body's  ear  who  is  not  deaf  does  the  fame.  If  I  have  a 
fenfe  of  harmony  I  take  a  pleafure  in  the  compofition  of 
the  founds.  The  way  to  examine  the  principles  of  tafl:e  is 
to  confider  which  of  thefe  perceptions  are  fimple,  im- 
mediate, and  original ;  which  of  them  are  dependant  upon 
others,  and  hoAv  they  may  be  combined  and  compounded, 
and  afford  delight  by  fuch  compofition. 

This  is  an  extenfive  fubje6t,  and  it  is  difficult  to  treat 
it  concifely,  and  yet  plainly ;  and  indeed  after  all  the 
pains  I  can  take  there  will  be  reafon  to  apprehend  fome 
obfcurity  will  remain  to  perfons  not  ufed  to  fuch  kind  of 
difquifitions.  The  way  I  fhall  take  is  ta  flate  to  you  cri- 
tically or  hifiorically  the  way  in  which  this  matter  hath 
been  treated  by  fome  of  the  moll  celebrated  writers.  The 
Spectator,  written  by  Mr.  Addifon,  on  the  pleafures  of 
the  imagination,  reduces  the  fources  of  delight  or  appro- 
bation to  three  great  clafles,  novelty,  greatnefs,  and 
beauty.  He  fays,  that  fuch  is  our  defire  after  novelty, 
that  all  things'that  were  before  unknown  are  from  this 
circumftance  recommended  to  us,  and  that  we  receive  a 
delight  in  the  difcovery  and  contemplation  of  what  we 
never  faw  before,  except  fuch  objeds  as  are  painful  to  the 
organs  of  fight.  That  children  run  from  one  play  thing 
to.  another,  not  becaufe  it  is  better,  but  new ;  that  it  is 
the  fame  cafe  with  men,  and  that  authors  in  particular 
are  at  great  pains  to  have  fomcthing  new  and  flriking  in 
their  manner^  which  is  the  more  difficult  to  be  attained 


488  Lecture's  on 

that  they  muft  make  ufe  of  known  words,  and  that  their 
ideas  too  muft  be  fuch  as  are  eafily  intelligible.  There  is 
fomething  here  that  would  require  a  good  deal  of  expli- 
cation. I  do  not  think  that  any  objed:  is,  properly  fpeak- 
ing,  painful  to  the  organs  of  fight,  except  too  much  light ; 
but  we  do  not  confider  this  as  a  fault  in  the  obje^l,  but 
feel  it  as  a  weaknefs  in  ourfelves.  And  further^  if  there 
be  fuch  a  thing  as  beauty,  one  would  think  that  if  beauty 
be  agreeable  it  mufl  have  a  contrary,  which  is  uglinefs, 
and  that  mult  be  difagreeable.  As  to  greatnefs,  this  has 
been  always  conlidcred  as  a  fource  of  admiration.  The 
mott  ancient  critics  obferve,  that  we  do  not  admire  a  fmall 
rivulet,  but  the  Danube,  the  Nile,  the  ocean.  This  I  will  af- 
terwards confider.  As  to  beauty,  it  has  been  confidered 
as  of  all  other  things  moft  inconceivable,  and  therefore 
made  a  firft  and  immediate  perception^ 

Others  have  taken  beauty  and  grace  as  the  general 
terms,  including  every  thing  that  pleafes  us*  Thus  we 
fay  a  beautiful  poem,  ftatue,  landfcape.  Thus  alfo  we  fay 
a  fublime  and  beautiful  fentiment.  Thus  they  have 
taken  in  under  it  novelty  and  greatnefs,  and  every  other 
agreeable  quality.  Many  eminent  critics  have  adled  in 
this  manner,  particularly  the  ancients.  Longinus,  on 
the  Sublime,  introduces  feveral  things  which  do  not  be- 
long to  it,  as  diftinguifhed  from  beauty.  Taking  beauty 
as  the  general  objedt  of  approbation  or  fource  of  de^ 
light,  and  as  applicable  to  all  the  fine  arts,  it  has  been 
varioufly  analyfed. 

A  French  writer,  Croufaz  Traite  de  Beau,  analyfes 
beauty  under  the  following  principles  :  Variety,  unity, 
regularity,  order,  proportion.  Variety  is  the  firft.  This 
feems  to  be  related  to,  or  perhaps  in  fome  refpe6ls  the 
fame  with  novelty,  which  was  formerly  mentioned.  It 
is  certain  that  a  dead  uniformity  cannot  produce  beauty 
in  any  fort  of  performance,  q^oems,  oration,  ftatue,  pic- 
ture, building.  Unity  is,  as  it  were,  the  bound  and  re- 
ftraint  of  variety.  Things  muft  be  connected  as  well  as 
various,  and  if  they  are  not  connedled,  the  variety  is  no- 
thing but  confufion.  Regularity  is  the  fimilarity  of  the 
eorrefpondent  parts  ;  order  is  the  ^-^^y  gradation  from  one 


^:Eloquenee,  489 

to.  another,  and  proportion  in  the  fuitablenefs  of  each  part 
to  the  whole,  and  to  every  other  part.  I  think  it  cannot 
be  denied  that  all  thefe  have  their  influence  in  producing 


One  of  the  mofl  celebrated  pieces  upon  this  fubje^l  is 
the  famous  painter,  Hogarth's  Analyfis  of  Beauty.     He 
firft  produced  his  fyftem  in  a  fort  of  enigma,  drawing  one 
.curved  line,  with  the  title  of  the  line  of  beauty,  and  ano- 
ther with  a  double  wave,  which  he  called  the  line  of 
>grace.     He  afterwards  publiflied  his  Analyfis  of  Beauty, 
which  he  refolves  into  the  following  principles :  Fitnefs, 
variety,  uniformity,   fimplicity,   intricacy  and  quantity. 
.The  firfl  principle  is  fitnefs,  under  which  he  fhov/s  that 
-\vc  always  conceive  of  a  thing  as  intended  for  fome  ufe, 
and  therefore  there  mufl  be  a  correfpondence  or  fuitable- 
nefs to  the  ufe,  otherwife  whatever  be  its  appearance  we 
reje6t  it  as  not  beautiful.     He  inflances  in  failors,  who, 
whenever  there  is  a  fliip  that  fails  well,  they  call  her  a 
beauty.     The  fame  thing  will  apply  perfe(!lly  to  all  kinds 
(of  writing :  for  whatever  fine  fentiments  and  noble  ex- 
^reffion  be  in  any  compoution,  if  they  are  not  fuited  to 
the  feafon  and  fubjedl,  we  fay  with  Horace,  Sed  nunc, 
,non  erat  hie  locus.     Variety  and  uniformity  muft  be 
compounded  together,  and  as  he  has  made  no  mention 
of  order  and  proportion,  it  is  to  be  fuppofed  that  by  va- 
riety he  meant  that  which  changes  in  a  gradual  and  in- 
fenfible  manner;  for  variety  widiout  order  is  undifiinguifh- 
.able  and  a  heap  of  eonfufion.     Simplicity  means  that 
.which  is  eafy,  and  which  the  eye  travels  over  and  exa- 
mines without  difficulty  ;  and  intricacy  is  that  v/hich  re- 
quires fome  exercife  and  attention  to  follow  it ;  thefe  two 
muft  limit  one  another.     In  reprefenting  beauty  as  a  vi- 
fible  figure,  he  obferves,  that  a  ftraight  line  has  the  lealt 
beauty  ;  thjit  which  has  a  wave  or  eafy  declination  one 
way  begins  to  be  beautiful ;  that  which  has  a  double  wave 
has  flill  greater  grace.     The  truth  is,  if  thefe  two  things 
do  not  deftroy  the  one  the  other,  fimplicity  and  intricacy 
improve  and  beautify  one   another.     Mr.   Hogarth  ob- 
ferves, that  ringlets  of  hair  waving  in  the  wind  have  beea 
,an  expreffion  of  grace  and  elegance  in  every  age,  nation 

Vol.  III.  3  Q^ 


4f4  Lectures  mi 

and  language ;  which  is  juft  a  contrafted  Wave,  firft,  thdt 
of  the  curls,  and  this  again  rendered  a  little  more  intricate 
by  the  motion  of  the  breeze.  If  one  would  have  a  view 
of  this  principle  as  exhibited  in  a  fmgle  kind,  let  him  look 
at  the  floUrilhes  with  which  the  mafters  of  the  pen  adorn 
their  pieces,  and  he  vv^ill  fee  that  if  they  are  eafy  and  gra- 
dual in  their  flexions,  and  juft  as  intricate  as  the  eye  can 
follow  without  confufion,  any  thing  lefs  than  that  is  lefs 
beautiful,  and  any  thing  more  dellroys  the  beauty  by  dif- 
order.  I  might  fliow  you  how  this  principle  applies  to  all 
the  arts,  but  fliall  only  mention  compofition,  where  the 
fimplicity  muft  be  combined  refinement^  and  when  the 
combination  is  juft  there  refults  the  moft  perfect  elegance, 
Mr.  Hogarth  adds  quantity ;  that  a  thing  having  the  other 
qualities,  pleafes  in  proportion  as  it  is  great ;  as,  wc 
fay,  a  magnificent  building,  where  the  proportions  are 
truly  obferved,  but  every  part  is  large. 

I  have  only  to  obferve,  that  Mr.  Hogarth  has  very  well 
illuftrated  the  principles  of  beauty,  but  at  the  fame  time 
he  feems  to  have  introduced  two,  which  belong  to  other 
fources  of  delight,  viz.  fitnefs  and  quantity,  as  will  be 
ihown  afterwards. 

It  is  to  be  obferved,  that  in  the  enumeration  of  the 
principles  of  beauty,  there  are  to  be  found  in  fome  au. 
thors  things  not  only  different  but  oppofite.  A  French 
author,  not  many  years  ago,  to  the  principles  mentioned 
by  others,  adds  ftrength,  which  he  illuftrates  in  this  man- 
ner. He  confiders  it  as  a  principle  of  grace  and  beauty 
in  motion,  and  fays  that  every  thing  that  we  do  with  great 
difficulty,  and  that  feems  to  require  ouruthioft  effort  is  leen 
with  uneafinefs,  and  not  with  pleafure.  For  this  reafon  he 
fays  the  motions  of  young  people  in  general  are  more  grace- 
ful than  thofe  of  old,  and  agreeably  to  this  we  join  th^ 
word  ease  to  gracefulnefs  as  explicatory — a  graceful,  eafy 
carriage.  With  this  explication  it  feems  abundantly 
proper  to  admit  the  remark.  On  the  other  hand,  there 
are  fome  who  have  made  comparative  weaknefs  a  princi- 
ple of  beauty,  and  fay  that  the  more  light  and  flender  any 
thing  is,  unlefs  it  be  remarkably  weak,  it  is  the  more 
beautiful,  and  that  things  remarkably  .ftrong  rather  be- 


Eloqu^nsg.  4^f 

long  to  another  clafs.  Thus  we  fay,  a  fine,  tender,  deli- 
cate fhape — and  on  the  contrary  we  fay,  a  flrong,  coarfe, 
robuft  make — a  firong,  coarfe,  niafculine  woman.  Per- 
liaps  we  may  reconcile  thefe  two,  and  fay  they  are  both 
principles,  becaufe  there  ihould  be  juil:  as  much  of  each 
as  is  fuitable  to  the  thing  in  queftion,  that  a  perfon  may 
have  either  too  flrong  or  too  weak  a  frame  for  being  efteem- 
cd  beautiful — that  a  pillar  or  dome  may  he  too  delicate 
to  be  durable,  or  too  llrong  and  bulky  to  be  elegant.. 

Again  :  many  writers  as  you  have  feen,  make  great- 
nefs  a  principle, of  beauty ;  yet  there  are  others  who  make 
littlenefs  one  of  the  conftituents  of  beauty.  Thofc  who 
do  fo,  tell  us  that  little  is  a  term  of  endearment,  in  every 
nation  and  language  yet  known  ;  that  it  is  the  language 
of  the  vulgar,  and  therefore  the  undefigned  exprellion  of 
nature.  They  inftance  the  diminutive  appellations  which 
are  always  ufed  in  fondling — -filiolus,  filiola,  have  more  af- 
fection, than  filius  and  filia — my  dear  little  creature — it 
is  a  pretty  little  thing.  To  enumerate  thefe  different  ap- 
pearances, fomc,  particularly  Bourke  on  the  Sublime,  af- 
firms that  the  ideas  of  fublimity  and  beauty,  are  ideas  of  a 
clafs  radically  different ;  that  the  firfl,  fublimity,  ultimately 
arifes  from  the  paiTion  of  terror,  and  the  other  from  that  of 
love  and  light ;  he  with  a  good  deal  of  ingenuity  refolves  all 
the  fources  of  the  fublime,  into  what  is  either  terrible,  or 
allied  to  this  paflion,  exciting  it  either  immediately  in' 
fome  degree,  or  by  affociation.  It  is  however  uncertain, 
whether  we  Ihould  reduce  what  w^e  receive  fo  much  de- 
light from,  to  a  pafTion,  which  in  itfelf,  or  in  its  purity, 
fo  to  fpeak,  is  painful :  this  objection  he  endeavors  t»  re- 
move, by  fliowing  that  the  exercife  of  all  our  paffions  in  a 
moderate  degree,  is  a  fource  of  pleafure ;  but  perhaps,  we 
may  diftinguifh  the  ideas  of  fublime  and  beautiful,  without 
having  recourfe  to  the  pafTion  of  terror  at  all,  by  faying 
that  there  is  an  affection  fuited  to  the  greatnefs  of  obje6ts, 
without  confidering  them  as  terrible,  and  that  is,  venera- 
tion :  nay,  perhaps  we  may  go  a  little  further,  and  fay  that 
veneration  is  the  affection  truly  correfpondent  to  great- 
nefs, in  innocent  creatures,  which  becomes  terror  in  the 
guilty,     I  cannot  go  through  the  particukifs  of  Bourke^s 


49^  Lectures  oft 

theory.  He  feenis  rightly  to  divide  the  ideas  of  fub- 
lime  and  beautiful ;  by  the  union  of  which,  fome  have 
made  one  thing,  others  diredly  its  contrary  to  belong 
to  beauty.  One  thing  remarkable  in  Bourke's  Eflay, 
is  that  he  denies  proportion  to  be  any  of  the  caufes  of 
beauty,  which  yet  almoft  every  other  writer,  has  enume- 
rated among  them  ;  and  what  he  fays  of  the  infinitely  va- 
rious proportion  in  plants  and  animals,  feems  to  be  much 
in  fupport  of  his  opinion  :  yet  in  works  of  art,  proportion 
feems  of  much  moment,  and  it  is  difficult  to  fay  to  what 
fource  to  refer  it.  I  view  a  building,  and  if  the  parts  are 
not  in  a  regular  proportion,  it  offends  my  eye,  even  though 
I  could  fuppofe  that  the  difproportion  was  voluntary,  in 
order  to  obtain  fome  great  convenience. 

.1  Ihould  be  inclined  to  think,  that  there  are  a  confidera- 
ble  number  of  fimple  principles  or  internal  fenfations,  that 
contribute  each  its  part,  in  forming  our  tafle,  and  are  ca- 
pable of  being  varioufly  combined,  and  by  this  combina- 
tion are  apt  to  be  confounded  one  with  another.  One  of 
the  mofl  diftiact  and  complete  enumerations,  we  have  in 
Qerrad's  EiTay  on  Tafle,  and  is  as  follows  ;  A  fenfe  of 
novelty,  fublimity,  beauty,  imitation,  harmony,  ridicule 
and  virtue.  I  cannot  go  through  all  thefe  in  order,  but 
fhall  make  a  few  remarks,  and  fhow  v/here  the  divifion  is 
juft  or  defedive.  His  diflinguifhing  all  thefe  from  one 
another,  is  certainly  juft ;  but  there  are  fome  things  that 
he  introduces  under  wrong  heads ;  fitnefs,  for  example, 
he  introduces  under  the  head  of  beauty  ;  and  this  feems 
rather  a  fource  of  approbation  diflinft  in  itfelf,  as  alfo  pro- 
portion, if  that  is  not  included  in  fitnefs.  Perhaps  a  more 
complete  enumeration  than  any  of  them,  may  be  given 
thus,  novelty,  fublimity,  beauty,  proportion,  imitation^ 
harmony,  ridicule,  utiUty  and  virtue. 

We  Ihall  now  proceed  to  thofe  we  have  not  fpoken  of 
before ;  imitation  certainly  gives  great  pleafure  to  the  mind 
and  that  of  itfelf  even  independent  of  the  obje<5t  imitated. 
An  exceedingly  well  imitated  refemblance  of  any  objeft, 
of  that  which  is  indifferent  or  even  difagreeable  in  itfelf^ 
gives  thehigheft  pleafure,  either  from  the  act  of  comparifon 
^s  fome  fay,  or  from  its  fuggefting  the  idea  of  Ikill  and 


Eloquence.  493 

ingenuity  in  the  imitator.  The  arts  of  painting  and  fla- 
tuary,  derive  their  excellence  from  the  perfection  of  imi- 
tation, and  it  is  even  thought  that  poetry  and  oratory  may 
be  confidered  in  the  fame  light,  only  that  the  firft  imi- 
tates form  and  paflions,  by  the  means  of  form,  and  the 
other  imitates  actions  and  afFedions  by  language  as  the 
inftrument. 

Harmony  is  the  mofi:  difl:in6t  and  feparate  of  all  the  in- 
ternal fenfes  that  have  been  mentioned  ;  it  is  concerned 
only  in  found,  and  therefore  mud  be  but  remotely  appli- 
cable to  the  writer  and  fpeaker.  What  is  remarkable, 
that  although  harmony  may  be  faid  to  be  of  much  impor- 
tance in  fpeaking,  there  are  many  examples  of  the  moft 
excellent  fpeakers,  that  yet  have  no  mufical  ear  at  all,  and 
I  think  the  inftances  of  thofe  who  have  a  remarkably  deli- 
cate mufical  ear,  and  at  the  fame  time  are  agreeable  fpeak- 
ers, are  not  many. 

The  fenfe  of  ridicule  is  not  very  eafdy  explained,  but  it 
is  eafiJy  underilood  when  fpoken  of,  becaufe  it  is  univer- 
fally  felt.  It  differs  in  this  from  moft  other  of  our  confti- 
tutional  powers,  that  there  is  fcarccly  any  man,  who  is 
not  fenfible  of  the  ridiculous,  or  may  be  made  eafdy  fenfi- 
ble  of  it ;  and  yet  the  number  of  good  performers  in  the 
art  of  ridiculing  others,  or  in  wit  and  humor,  is  but  very 
fmail.  The  multitude  who  cannot  follow  fpeculative  rea- 
foning,  and  are  hard  to  be  moved  by  eloquence,  are  all 
ftruck  with  works  of  humor.  Molt  people  are  apt  to 
think  they  can  do  fomething  in  the  way  of  humor  ;  and 
yet  we  have  many  who  render  themfelves  ridiculous  by 
the  attempt. 

As  to  a  fenfe  of  virtue,  my  mentioning  it,  is  by  no 
means  from  my  joining  with  thofe  who  would  place  moral 
approbation  entirely  on  the  fame  footing  with  the  internal 
fenfes,  that  are  the  foundation  of  tafte.  Hutchinfon  and 
Shaftfbury  incline  very  much  this  way  ;  on  the  contrary 
I  think  we  are  evidently  fenfible  that  the  morality  of  ac- 
tions is  a  thing  of  a  different  fpecies,  and  arifes  from  the 
fenfe  of  a  law,  and  obligation  of  a  fuperior  nature  :  yet  1 
have  mentioned  it  here,  becaufe  there  is  certainly  a  rela- 
tion or  conneding  tie  between  the  fentiments  of  the  one 


^t 


Lectures  on 


kind,  and  of  the  other.  The  beauties  of  nature,  we  are 
fcnfible,  are  greatly  heightened,  by  adding  to  their  delight- 
ful appearance,  a  refledlion  on  their  utility,  and  the  bene- 
volent  intention  of  their  author.  In  perfons  capable  of 
inorality,  as  in  human  nature,  we  confider  fine  features 
and  an  elegant  carriage,  as  indications  of  the  moral  difpo- 
fition  or  the  mental  powers ;  and  as  the  whole  of  the 
fources  of  delight  mentioned  above,  may  be  combined  in. 
a  greater  or  leffer  degree,  as  novelty,  iublimity,  beauty, 
&c.  fo  the  governing  principle  which  ought  to  dired  the 
application  of  the  whole,  is  what  gives  them  their  higheft 
excellence,  and  indeed  only  is  their  true  perfection.  The 
gratification  even  of  our  internal  fenfes,  are  highly  impro-. 
ved,  when  united  with  tafie  and  elegance.  As  the  moil 
delicious  food  when  ferved  up  with  neatnefs  and  order, 
accompanied  with  politenefs  of  manners,  and  feafoned 
with  fprlghtly  converfation :  in  the  fame  manner,  the 
fine  arts  tliemfelves,  acquire  a  double  beauty  and  higher 
relifh,  when  they  are  infeparably  connected  with,  and: 
made  fubfervient  to  purity  of  manners.  An  admirable 
poem,  or  an  eloquent  difcourfe,  or  a  fine  pitlure,  would 
be  ftill  more  excellent,  if  the  fubjedl  of  them  were  interefl- 
ing  and  valuable,  and  when'  any  of  them  are  perverted  to 
impious  or  wicked  purpofes,  they  are  juft  objedtsof  de- 
teftation. 

After  having  thus  attempted  the  analyfis  of  the  princi- 
ples of  tafle  and  elegance,  I  would  obferve,  that  as  nature 
leems  to  delight  in  producing  many  great  and  different 
effects  from  fimple  caufes,  perhaps  we  may  find  an  ulti- 
mate principle  that  governs  all  thefe.  A  French  author 
has  written  a  treatife  called  the  Theory  of  agreeable  Sen- 
fations,,in  which  he  fays  that  the  great  principle  is,  what- 
ever exercifes  our  faculties,  without  fatiguing  them, 
gives  pleafure ;  and  that  this  principle  may  be  applied  to 
our  bodily  form,  and  to  the  conftitution  of  our  mind,  ta 
objeds  of  external  fenfation,  to  objeds  of  tafie,  and  evea 
to  our  moral  conduct.  It  may  no  doubt  be  carried  through 
the  whole  of  criticifm,  and  we  may  fay  this  Hates  the 
bounds  between  variety  and  uniformity,  fimplicity  an4 
intricacy,  order,  proportion  and  harmony. 


Eloquencd,^'  ^(^ 


^  .-i  ■ 


Neither  Would  it  be  difficult  to  fhow  that  this  principle 
may  be  applied  to  morality,  and  that  an  infinitely  wife 
and  gracious  God  had  fo  ordered  matters,  that  the  mode- 
rate exercife  of  all  our  powers,  fliould  produce  at  once, 
virtue  and  happinefs,  and  that  the  leaft  tranfgreffion  of 
the  one  muft  prove  of  necefTity  an  injury  to  the  other. 

You  may  fee  from  the  preceding  remarks,  that  the  foun- 
dation is  laid  for  tafte  in  our  natures ;  yet  is  there  great 
room  for  improvement  and  cultivation  ;  by  invefligating 
the  grounds  of  approbation  ;  by  comparing  one  thing 
with  another ;  by  ftudying  the  bed  examples  ;  and  by  rer 
fle<^ion  and  judgment,  men  may  correal  and  refine  their 
tafte  upon  the  whole,  or  upon  particular  confined  fubje«5ls. 

Carrying  tafte  to  a  finical  nicety  in  any  one  branch,  is 
a  thing  not  only  undefireable,  but  contemptible  ;  the  rea- 
fon  of  which  may  be  eafily  feen  :  when  a  perfon  applies 
his  attention  fo  much  to  a  matter  of  no  great  moment,  it 
occafions  a  neceflary  neglect  of  other  things  of  much  great- 
er value.  After  you  pafs  a  certain  point,  attachment  to  a 
particular  purfuit  is  ufelefs,  and  thei\  it  proceeds  ta  be 
hurtful,  and  at  laft  contemptible. 


[  497  ] 


•OM  COM  eoo»  00*0  cooo  oooo  oooo  cooo  oooo  cooo  eooo  oooo  oooo  eooo  oooo  oooo  oooo  oooo  eeoo  oeo*  com  eooo  moo  com  eoo'i 
•coo  «ooo  MOO  ooeo  oooo  oeoo  cooo  vim  oooo  csoo  oooo  saoo  eeoj  oooo  oooo  cooo  omo  oooo  eooo  oooo  oooo  oooo  oooo  oooo  eooa 


LETTERS 

O  N 

EDUCATION 


LETTER    L 


AFTER  fo  long  a  delay,  I  now  fet  myfelf  to  fulfil  my 
promife  of  writing  to  you  a  few  thoughts  on  the 
education  of  children. — Though  I  cannot  wholly  purge 
myfelf  of  the  crimes  of  lazinefs  and  procrallination,  yet  I 
do  aflure  you,  what  contributed  not  a  little  to  its  being  hi- 
therto not  done,  was,  that  I  confidered  it  not  as  an  ordi- 
nary letter,  but  what  deferved  to  be  carefully  meditated  on, 
and  thoroughly  digeited.  The  concern  you  fliow  on  this 
fubjedl,  is  highly  commendable  :  for  there  is  no  part  of 
your  duty,  as  a  Chriflian,  or  a  citizen,  which  will  be  of 
greater  fervice  to  the  public,  or  a  iburce  of  greater  com- 
fort to  yourfelf. 

The  confequence  of  my  thinking  fo  long  upon  it,  before 
committing  my  thoughts  to  paper,  will  probably  be  the 
taking  the  thing  in  a  greater  compafs  than  either  of  us  at 
firft  intended,  and  writing  a  feries  of  letters,  inftead  of  one. 
With  this  view  I  begin  with  a  preliminary  to  the  fuccefs- 
ful  education  of  children,  viz.  that  hulband  and  wife  ought 
to  be  entirely  one  upon  this  fubjeCtj  not  only  agreed  as  to 

VpL.  IIL  3R 


498  Letters  on  Education, 

the  end,  but  as  to  the  means  to  be  ufed,  and  the  plan  to 
be  followed,  in  order  to  attain  it.     It  ought  to  encourage 

'  o  o 

you  to  proceed  in  your  delign,  that  I  am  perfuaded  you 
will  not  only  meet  with  no  oppofition  to  a  rational  and 
ferious  education  of  your  children,  but  great  afTdlance  from 

The  erafed  lines  contained  a  compliment,  written  with 
great  fmcerity  :  but  recollefting  that  there  are  no  rules 
yet  fettled  fordiftinguifhing  true  compliment  from  flatte- 
ry, I  have  blotted  them  out :  on  which,  perhaps,  you  will 
jay  to  yourielf,  "'  he  is  fulfilling  the  eharacler  which  his 
'^'  enemies  give  him,  who  fay,  it  is  the  nature  of  the  man 
**  to  deal  much  more  in  fatire,  than  in  panegyric."  Hotv- 
ever,  I  content  myfelf  with  repeating,  that  certainly  huf- 
band  and  wife  ought  to  confpire  and  co-operate  in  every 
thing  relating  to  the  education  of  their  children  ;  and  if 
their  opinions  happen,  in  any  particular,  to  be  different, 
they  ought  to  examine  and  fettle  the  matter  privately  by 
themfelves,  that  not  the  ieail  oppofition  may  appear  either 
to  children  or  fervants.  When  this  is  the  cafe,  every 
thing  is  enforced  by  a  double  authority,  and  recommend- 
ed by  a  double  example  :  but  when  it  is  otherwife,  the 
pains  taken  are  commonly  more  than  loft,  not  being  able 
to  do  any  good,  and  certainly  producing  very  much  evil. 

Be  pleafcd  to  remember,  that  this  is  by  no  means  in^ 
tended  againfl  thofe  unhappy  couples,  who,  being  eflen^ 
tially  difierent  in  principles  and  chara£ler,  live  in  a  ftate 
of  continual  war.  It  is  of  little  advantage  to  fpeak  either 
to,  or  of  fuch  peafons.  But  even  differences  incompara- 
bly fmaller,  are  of  very  bad  eonfequence  :  when  one,  for 
example,  thinks  a  child  may  be  carried  out,  and  the  other 
thinks  it  is  wrong ;  when  one  thinks  a  way  of  fpeaking  is 
dangerous,  and  the  other  is  pofitive  there  is  nothing  in  it. 
The  things  themfelves  may  indeed  be  of  little  moment ; 
but  the  want  of  concurrence  in  the  parents,  or  the  want 
of  mutual  elleem  and  deference,  ealily  obferved  even  by 
very  young  children,  is  of  the  greateft  importance. 

As  you  and  I  have  chiefly  in  view  the  religious  educa- 
tion of  children,  I  take  it  to  be  an  excellent  preliminary,, 
that  parental  affedion  Ihould  be  purified  by  the  principles^„ 


Letters  on  Education.  49^ 

and  controled  or  dlre61ed  by  the  precepts  of  religion.  A 
parent  fliould  rejoice  in  his  children,  as  they  are  the  gift 
ol-  a  gracious  God;  ihould  put  his  trult  in  the  care  of  an 
indulgent  Providence  for  the  prefervation  of  his  offspring, 
as  well  as  himfelf ;  lliould  be  fupremely  defirous  that  they 
may  be,  in  due  time,  the  heirs  of  eternal  life  ;  and,  as  he 
knows  the  abfolute  dependance  of  every  creature  upon  the 
will  of  God,  fhould  be  ready  to  refign  them  at  what  time 
his  Creator  fhall  fee  proper  to  demand  them.  This  hap- 
py qualification  of  parental  tendernefa,  will  have  a  pow- 
erful influence  in  preventing  miftakes  in  the  conduct  of 
education.  It  will  be  the  mod  powerful  of  all  incitements 
to  duty,  and  at  the  fame  time  areftraint  upon  that  natural 
fondnefs  and  indulgence,  which,  by  a  fort  of  fafcination 
of  fatality,  makes  parents  often  do  or  permit  what  their 
judgment  condemns,  and  then  excufe  themfelves  by  fay- 
ing, that  no  doubt  it  is  wrong,  but  truly  they  cannot  help  it,. 
Another  preliminary  to  the  proper  education  of  chil-. 
dren,  is  a  firm  perfuafion  of  the  benefit  of  it,  and  the  pro- 
bable, at  lead,  if  not  certain  fuccefs  of  it,  when  faithfully 
and  prudently  conducted.  This  puts  an  edge  upon  the 
fpirit,  and  enables  the  chridian  not  only  to  make  fome  at> 
tempts,  but  to  perfevere  with  patience  and  diligence.  I 
know  not  a  conmion  faying  either  more  falfe  or  pernicious^ 
than  ''  that  the  children  of  good  men  are  as  bad  as  others.'^ 
This  faying  carries  in  it  a  fuppofition,  that  whereas  the 
force  of  education  is  confelfed  with  refpect  to  every  other 
human  character  and  accomplidnnent,  it  is  of  no  confe- 
quence  at  all  as  to  religion.  This,  I  think,  is  contrary  to 
daily  experience.  Where  do  v/e  expedl:  to  find  young 
perfons  pioufly  dlfpofed  but  in  pious  families  ?  the  excep- 
tions, or  rather  appearances  to  the  Gontrar}^  are  eafiiy  ac- 
counted for,  in  more  ways  than  one.  Many  perfons  ap- 
pear to  be  rehgious,  while  they  are  not  fo  in  reality,  but 
are  chiefly  governed  by  the  applaufe  of  men.  Hence 
their  vifible  conduct  may  be  fpecious,  or  their  public  per- 
formances applauded,  and  yet  their  families,  be  negieded.. 
.  It  mud  alfo  be  acknowledged  that  fome  truly  well  dif-, 
pofed  perfon;;  are  extremely  defective  or  imprudent  in 
this  part  of  their  duty,  and  therefore  it  is  no  wonder  that 
it  ihould  not  fucceed,.     This  was  plainly  the  cafe  witk,.. 


50O  Letters  on  Education. 

Eli,  whofe  fons'we  are  told,  made  themfelves  vile,  and  he 
reftrained  them  not.     However,  I  muft  obferve,  if  we  al- 
low fuch  to  be  truly  good  men,  we  muft  at  the  fame  time 
confefs  that  this  was  a  great  drawback  upon  their  charac- 
ter ;  and  that  they  differed  very  much  from  the  father  of 
the  faithful,  who  had  this  honorable  teftimony  given  him 
by  God,  I  know  him,  that  he  will  command  his  children 
and  his  houfliold  aft«r  him,  that  they  ferve  me.     To  this 
we  may  add,  that  the  child  of  a  good  man,  who  is  feen  to 
follow  diflblute  courfes,  draws  the  attention  of  mankind 
more  upon  him,  and  is  much  more  talked  of,  than  any 
'  other  perfon  of  the  fame  chara<^er.     Upon  the  whole,  it 
is  certainly  of  moment,  that  one  who  defires  to  educate 
his  children  in  the  fear  of  God,  fhould  do  it  in  a  humble 
perfuaiion,  that  if  he  was  not  defective  in  his  own  duty,  he 
will  not  be  denied  the  bleffing  of  fuccefs.     I  could  tell  you 
ibme  remarkable  inftances  of  parents  who  feemed  to  labor 
in  vain  for  a  long  time,  and  yet  were  fo  happy  as  ta  fee  a 
change  at  laft ;  and  of  fome  children  in  whom  even  after 
the  death  of  the  parents,  the  feed  which  was  early  fown, 
and  feemed  to  have  been  entirely  fmothered,  has  at  laft 
produced  fruit.     And  indeed  no  lefs  feems  to  follow  from 
the  promife,  annexed  to  the  command,  train  up  a  child 
in  the  way  he  lliould  go,  and  when  he  is  old  he  will  not 
depart  from  it. 

\  Having  laid  down  thefe  preliminaries,  I  ihall  fay  a 
few  things  upon  the  prefervation  of  the  health  of  chiK 
dren.  Perhaps  you  will  think  this  belongs  only  to  the 
phyfician  :  but  though  a  phyfician  ought  to  be  employed 
to  apply  remedies  in  dangerous  cafes,  any  man,  with  a 
little  refle(5lion,  may  be  allowed  to  form  fome  judgment 
as  to  the  ordinary  means  of  their  prefervation ;  nay,  I 
cannot  help  being  of  opinion,  than  any  other  man  is  fit- 
ter than  a  phyfician  far  this  purpofe.  His  thoughts  are 
fo  conftantly  taken  up  with  the  rules  of  his  art,  that  it  is 
an  hundred  to  one  he  will  prefcribe  more  methods  and 
medicines  than  can  be  ufed  with  fafety. 

The  fundamental  rules  for  preferving  the  health  of 
children,  are  cleanlinefs,  liberty,  and  free  air.  By  clean- 
linefs,  I  do  not  mean  keeping  the  outfide  of  their  clothes 

\ 


Letters  on  Education,  501 

in  a  proper  condition  to  be  feen  before  coinpany,  nor 
hindering  them  from  fguling  their  hands  and  feet,  when 
they  are  capable  of  going  abroad,  but  keeping  them  dry 
in  the  night  time,  when  young,  and  frequently  wailiing 
their  bodies  with  cold  water,  and  other  things  of  tlie  fame 
nature  and  tendency.  The  fecond  rule  is  liberty.  All 
perfons  young  and  old,  love  liberty  :  and  as  far  as  it  does 
them  no  harm,  it  will  certainly  do  them  good.  Many  a 
free  born  fubjedl:  is  kept  a  Have  f©r  the  firfl  ten  years  of 
his  life ;  and  is  fo  much  handled  and  carried  about  by 
women  in  his  infancy,  that  the  limbs  and  other  parts  of 
his  body,  are  frequently  mifhapen,  and  the  whole  very 
much  weakened ;  befides,  the  fpirits,  when  under  con« 
finement,  are  generally  in  a  dull  and  languifliing  flate. 
The  befl  exercife  in  the  world  for  children,  is  to  let  them 
romp  and  jump  about,  as  foon  as  they  are  able,  accord- 
ing to  their  own  fancy.  This  in  the  country  is  beft 
done  in  the  fields  ;  in  a  city  a  well  aired  room  is  better 
than  being  fent  into  the  itreets  under  the  care  of  a  fer- 
vant,  very  few  of  whom  are  able  fo  far  to  curb  their  own 
inclinations,  as  to  let  the  children  follow  theirs,  even  where 
they  may  do  it  with  fafety.  As  to  free  air  there  is  no- 
thing more  eflentially  necefFary  to  the  firength  and 
growth  of  animals  and  plants.  If  a  few  plants  of  any 
kind  are  fown  in  a  clofe  confined  place,  they  commonly 
grow  up  tall,  fmall,  and  very  weak.  I  have  feen  a  bed 
of  beans  in  a  garden,  under  the  Ihade  of  a  hedge  or  tree, 
very  long  and  flender,  which  brought  to  my  mind  a 
young  family  of  quality,  trained  up  in  a  delicate  manner, 
who  if  they  grow  at  all,  grow  to  length,  but  never  to 
thicknefs.  So  univerfal  is  this,  that  I  believe  a  body  of 
a  ilurdy  or  well  built  make,  is  reckoned  among  them  a 
coarfe  and  vulgar  thing. 

There  is  .one  thing  with  regard  to  fervants,  that  I 
would  particularly  recommend  to  your  attention.  All 
children  are  liable  to  accidents  ;  thel'e  may  happen  una- 
voidably ;  but  do  generally  arife  from  the  careleffnefs  of 
fervants,  and  to  this  they  are  almoft  always  attributed 
by  parents.  This  difpofes  all  fervants,  good  or  bad,  to 
conceal  them  from  the  parents,  when  they  can  poffibly 


50Z  Letters  on  Education'. 

do  it.  By  this  means,  children  often  receive  hurts  in 
falls  or  otherwife,  which  if  known  in  time,  might  be  ea- 
iily  remedied,  but  not  being  known  either  prove  fatal, 
or  make  them  lame  or  deformed.  A  liear  relation  of 
mine  has  a  high  fhoulder  and  a  diftorted  waill  from  this 
very  caufe.  To  prevent  fuch  accidents,  it  is  neceflary 
to  take  all  pains  poffible  to  acquire  the  confidence  of  fer- 
vants,  to  convince  them  of  the  neceffity  of  concealing 
nothing.  There  are  two  difpofitions  in  parents,  which 
hinder  the  fervants  from  making  difcoveries  ;  the  firfl  is 
when  they  are  very  paffionate,  and  apt  to  ilorm  and  rage 
againfl  their  fervants,  for  every  real  or  fuppofed  negle<5t. 
Such  perfons  can  never  expe£l  a  confeffion,  which  mull 
be  followed  by  fuch  terrible  vengeance.  The  other  is, 
when  they  are  tender-hearted,  or  timorous  to  excefs,  which 
makes  them  iliow  themfelves  deeply  afleded  or  greatly 
terrified  upon  any  little  accident  that  befals  their  children. 
In  this  cafe,  the  very  belt  fervants  are  unwilling  to-  tell 
them  through  fear  of  making  them  miferable.  In  fuch 
cafes,  therefore,  I  would  advife  parents,  whatever  may 
be  their  real  opinions,  to  difcover  them  as  little  as  pof- 
fible to  their  fervants.  Let  them  fiill  inculcate  this  max- 
im, that  there  fhould  be  no  fecrets  concerning  children, 
kept  from  thofe  mofl  nearly  interefted  in  them.  And  that 
there  may  be  no  temptation  to  fuch  conduct,  let  them  al- 
ways appear  as  cool  and  compofed  as  poffible,  when  any 
difcovery  is  made,  and  be  ready  to  forgive  a  real  fault, 
in  return  for  a  candid  acknowledgment. 


LETTER    IL 

F  I  miftake  not  my  lafl  letter  was  concluded  by  fome 
remarks  on  the  means  of  tr}ang  fervants  to  be  careful 
of  the  fafety  of  children,  and  ready  to  difcover  early  and 
honellly  any  accidents  that  might  happen  to  befal  them, 
1  mull  make  fome  farther  remarks  upon  fervants.  It  ia 
a  fubje(Slofgreat  importance,  and  infeparably  connected 
with  what  I  haye  undertaken.     You  will  find  it  extremely 


Letters  on  Education,  503 

difficult  to  educate  children  properly,  if  the  fervants  of 
the  family  do  not  confpire  in  it ;  and  impoflible,  if  they  are 
inclined  to  hinder  it.  In  fuch  a  cafe,  the  orders  ifTued,  or 
the  method  laid  down,  will  be  negle6led,  where  that  is 
poiTible  and  fafe ;  where  negleft  is  unfafe,  they  will  be 
imfuccefsfully  or  improperly  executed,  and  many  times, 
in  the  hearing  of  the  children,  they  will  be  either  laughed 
at,  or  complained  of  and  difapproved.  The  certain  con- 
fequence  of  this  is,  that  children  will  infenfibly  come  to 
look  upon  the  directions  and  cautions  of  their  parents, 
as  unneceiTary  or  unreafonable  reilraints.  It  is  a  known 
and  very  common  way  for  fervants  to  infmuate  them- 
felves  into  the  affections  of  children,  by  granting  them 
fuch  indulgences  as  would  be  refufed  them  by  their  pa- 
rents, as  well  as  concealing  the  faults  which  ought  to  be 
punillied  by  parents,  and  they  are  often  veiy  fuccefsful 
in  training  them  up  to  a  moil  dangerous  fidelity  in  keep- 
ing the  fecret. 

Such  is  the  evil  to  be  feared,  which  ought  to  have  been 
more  largely  defcribed  :  let  us  now  come  to  the  remedy. 
The  foundation,  to  be  fure,  is  to  be  very  nice  and  careful 
in  the  choice  of  fervants.  This  is  commonly  thought  to 
be  an  extremely  difficult  matter,  and  we  read  frequently 
in  public  papers  the  heaviefl;  complaints  of  bad  fervants. 
I  am,  however,  one  of  thofe  who  think  the  fault  is  at  leall 
as  often  in  the  mailers.  Good  fervants  may  certainly  be 
had,  and  do  generally  incline  of  themlelves  to  be  in  good 
families,  and  when  they  find  that  they  are  fo,  do  often  con- 
tinue very  long  in  the  fame,  without  defiring  to  remove. 
You  ought,  therefore,  to  be  exceedingly  fcrupulous,  and 
not  without  an  evident  neceffity,  to  hire  any  fervant  but 
who  feems  to  be  Ibber  and  pious.  Indeed,  I  flatter  myfelf, 
that  a  pious  family  is  fuch,  as  none  but  one  who  is  either 
a  faint  or  a  hypocrite  will  be  fuppofed  to  continue  in.  If 
any  fymptoms  of  the  lall  character  appears,  you  need  not 
be  told  what  you  ought  to  do. 

The  next  thing,  after  the  choice  of  fervants,  is  to  make 
confcience  of  doing  your  duty  to  them,  by  example,  in- 
Itrudion,  admonition  and  prayer.  Your  fidelity  to  them 
wiU  naturally  produce  in  them  fidelity  to  you  and  yours. 


504  Letters  on  Education* 

and  that  upon  the  very  beil  principles.  It  will  excite  in 
them  a  deep  fenfe  of  gratitude,  and  at  the  fame  time  fill 
them  with  fentiments  of  the  higheft  and  mofl  unfeigned 
efteem.  I  could  tell  you  of  inllances  (you  will  however 
probably  recolledl  fome  yourfelf)  of  fervants  who  from  their 
living  comfortably,  and  receiving  benefits  ^in  pious  fami- 
lies»  have  preferved  fuch  a  regard  and  attachment  to  their 
mailers,  as  have  been  little  fhort  of  idolatry.  I  (hall  juft 
mention  one — a  worthy  woman  in  this  place,  formerly 
fervant  to  one  of  my  predeceflbrs,  and  married  many 
years  fince  to  a  thriving  tradefman,  continues  to  have  fuch 
an  undiminifhed  regard  to  her  mailer's  memory,  that  Ihe 
cannot  fpeak  of  him  without  delight ;  keeps  by  her  to  this 
hour  the  newfpaper  which  gives  an  account  of  his  death 
and  character,  and,  I  believe,  would  not  exchange  it  for 
a  bill  or  bond,  to  a  very  confiderable  fum. 

But  the  third  and  finilliing  direction  with  regard  to  fer- 
trants,  is  to  convince  them,  in  a  cool  and  difpaflionate 
manner,  of  the  reafonablenefs  of  your  method  of  pro- 
ceeding, that  as  it  is  dictated  by  confcience,  it  is  con- 
duced with  prudence.  Thence  it  is  eafy  to  reprefent  to 
them  that  it  is  their  duty,  inftead  of  hindering  its  fuccefs 
by  oppofition  or  negligence,  to  co-operate  with  it  to  the 
iitmoll:  of  their  power.  It  is  not  below  any  man  to  reafon 
in  fome  cafes  with  his  fervants.  There  is  a  way  of  fpeak- 
ing  to  them  on  fuch  fubjedls,  by  which  you  will  lofe  no- 
thing of  your  dignity,  but  even  corroborate  your  author- 
ity. While  you  manifeft  your  firm  refolution,  never  to 
depart  from  your  right  and  title  to  command  :  you  may, 
notwithfianding,  at  proper  feafons,  and  by  way  of  con- 
defcenfion,  give  fuch  general  reafons  for  your  conduct,  as 
to  ihow  that  you  are  not  ailing  by  mere  caprice  or  hu- 
mor. Nay,  even  while  you  fometimes  infill,  that  your 
command  of  itfelf  fhall  be  a  law,  and  that  you  will  not 
fuffer  it  to  be  difputed,  nor  be  obliged  to  give  a  reafon  for 
ir,  you  may  eafily  fliow  them  that  this  alio  is  reafonable. 
They  may  be  told  that  you  have  the  greatefl  interefi;  in  the 
welfare  of  your  children,  the  befl  opportunity  of  being 
appri'fed  as  to  the  meafis  of  profecuting  it,  and  that  there 


Letters  on  Education,  505 

may  be  many  reafons  for  your  orders  which  it  is  unneccf- 
fary  or  improper  for  them  to  knov/. 

Do  not  think  that  all  this  is  exceffivc  refinement?^  chi- 
merical or  impoffible.  Servants  are  reafonable  creatures, 
and  are  bed  governed  by  a  mixture  of  authority  and  rea- 
fon.  They  are  generally  delighted  to  find  themfelves 
treated  as  reafonable,  and  will  ibmetimcs  difcover  a  prida 
in  fhowing  that  they  underftand,  as  w^ell  as  find  a  plea- 
fure  in  entering  into  your  views.  When  they  find,  as 
diey  will  every  day  by  experience,  the  fuccefs  and  benefit 
of  a  proper  method  of  education,  it  will  give  them  a  high 
opinion  of,  and  confidence  in,  your  judgment ;  they 
will  frequently  confult  you  in  their  ov/n  affairs,  as  well  as 
implicitly  follow  your  directions  in  the  management  of 
yours.  After  all,  the  very  highefi:  infi:ance  of  true  great- 
nefs  of  mind,  and  the  belt  fupport  of  your  authority, 
when  you  fee  neceifary  to  interpofe  it,  is  not  to  be  opi- 
nionative  or  obftinate,  but  willing  to  acknowledge  or  re- 
mit a  real  mifiake,  if  it  is  difcreetly  pointed  out,  even  by 
thofe  in  the  lowell  fiiations.  The  application  of  thefe  re^ 
fledlions  will  occur  in  feveral  of  the  following  branches 
of  this  fubje6l. 

The  next  thing  I  fiiall  mention  as  necefiary,  in  order 
to  the  education  of  children,  is,  to  efiablifh  as  foon  as 
pofiible,  an  entire  and  abfolute  authority  over  them* 
This  is  a  part  of  the  fubjeCl  which  requires  to  be  treated 
with  great  judgment  and  delicacy.  1  wifh  i  maybe  able 
to  do  fo.  Opinions,  like  modes  and  fafhions,  ciiange 
continually  upon  every  point;  neither  is  it  ea(y  to  keep 
the  juil  middle,  without  verging  to  one  or  other  of  the  e:^- 
trenies.  On  this,  in  particular,  we  have  gone  in  this  na- 
tion in  general,  from  one  extreme  to  the  very  utmoit  li- 
mits of  the  other.  In  the  fornier  age,  both  public  and  pri- 
vate, learned  and  religious  education  was  carried  on  by 
mere  dint  of  authority.  This,  to  be  fure,  was  a  favage 
and  barbarous  method,  and  was  in  many  inflances  terri- 
ble and  difgulbng  to  the  youth.  Now,  on  the  other  hand, 
not  only  fe verity,  but  authority,  is  often  decried ;  perfua- 
fion,  and  every  foft  and  gentle  method,  is  recommended, 
ill  fuch  tern^is  as  plainly  lead  to  a  relaxation.     I  hope  you 

Vol.  III.  3  S 


5o6  Le'ters  on  Education, 

will  be  convinced  that  the  middle  way  is  beft,  -ia hen  yoti 
find  it  is  recommended  by  the  Spirit  of  God  in  his  woid, 
Prov.  xiii.  24.  xix.  18/ xxii.  15*  You  will  allb  find  a 
caiuionagainit  excels  in  this  matter,  Col.  ii.  21. 

i  have  faid  above,  that  you  fliould  *'  eilabliili  as  foon 
as  pollible  an  entire  and  abfolute  authority."  I  would 
have  it  early,  that  it  may  be  abfolute,  and  abfolute  that 
it-may  not  be  fevere.  •  if  parents  are  too  long  in  begin- 
ning to  exert  their  authority,  they  will  find  the  talk  very 
difficult.  Children,  habituated  to  indulgence  for  a  few  of 
their  firfl  years,  are  exceediiigly  impatient  of  reilraint, 
and  if  they  happen  to  be  of  flilF  or  obllinate  tempers^ 
can  hardly  be  brought  to  an  entire,  at  leait  to  a  quiet  and 
placid 'fubniiflion;  whereas,  if  they  are'  taken  in  time^ 
there^is.  hardly  any  temper  but  what  may  be  made  to 
yieldvand  by  eafl'y  habit-the  fubjedlion  becomes  quite  eafy 
to  themfelves. 

The  authority  ought  alfo  to  be  abfolute,  that  it  may  not 
be  fevere.  The  more  complete  and  uniform  a  parent's 
authority  is,  the  oflences  will  be  more  rare,  punilhment 
will  be  lefs  needed,  and  the  more  gentle  kind  of  correc- 
tion will  be  abundantly  fufficient.  We  fee  every  where 
about  us  examples  of  this.  A  parent  that  has  once  ob- 
tained, and  knows  how  to  preferve  authority,  will  do  more 
by  a  look  of  difpleafure,  than  another  by  the  mofl  paf- 
iionate  words  and  even  blows.  It  holds  univerfally  in 
families  and  fchools,  and  even  the  greater  bodies  of  men, 
the  army  and  navy,  that  thofe  who  keep  the  itridefl:  difci- 
pline,  give  the  fevveft  llrokes.  I  have  frequently  remark- 
ed that  parents,  even  of  the  foftell  tempers,  and  who  are 
famed  for  tiie  greateft  indulgence  to  their  children,  do, 
notwithlianding,  correal  them  more  frequently,  and  even 
more  feverely,  though  to  very  little  purpofe,  than  thofe 
who  keep  up  their  authority.  The  reafon  is  plain.  Chil- 
dren, by  foolifli  indulgence,  become  often  fb  iroward  and 
petulent  in  their  tempers,  that  they  provoke  their  eafy  pa- 
rents paft  ail  endurance;  fo  that  they  are  obliged,  if  not 
to  ftrike,  at  lead  to  fcokl  them,  in  a  manner  as  little  to 
tiicir  own  credit,  as  their  childrens  profit* 


Letters  on  Education,  507 

There  is  not  a  more  difgufling  fight  than  the  impotent 
rage  of  a  parent  who  has  no  authority.  Among  the  lower 
ranks  of  people,  who  are  under  no  reilraint  from  decency> 
you  may  fometimes  fee  a  father  or  niother  running  out  in- 
to the  llreet  after  a  child  who  is  fled  from  them,  with  looks 
of  fury  and  words  of  execration  ;  and  they  are  often  iUi- 
pid  enough  to  imagine  that  neighbors  or  paffengers  will 
approve  them  in  this  conduQ,  though  in  fa<^t  it  fills  every 
beholder  with  liorror.  There  is  a  degree  of  the  fame  fault 
to  be  feen  in  perlbns  of  better  rank,  though  e^iprefiing  itfelf 
fomewhat  differently.  Ill  words  and  altercations  will  often 
fall  out  between  parents  and  children  before  company  ;  a 
fure  fign  that  there  is  defeat  of  government  at  home  or  in 
private.  The  parent  ftung  with  Ihame  at  the  milbehavior 
or  indifcretion  of  the  child,  defires  to  perfuade  the  obfervers 
that  it  is  not  his  fault,  and  thereby  effectually  convinces, 
every  perfon  of  refledion  that  it  is, 

I  would  therefore  recommend  to  every  parent  to  begin 
the  effablifhment  of  authority  much  more  early  than  is. 
commonly  fuppofed  to  be  poffible :  that  is  to  fay,  from 
about  the  age  of  eight  or  nine  months.  You  will  perhaps 
fmile  at  this:  but  1  do  affure  you  from  experience,  that 
by  fetting  about  it  witU  prudence,  deliberation,  and  atten- 
tion, it  may  be  in  a  4:nanner.  completed  by  the  age  of 
twelve  or  fourteen  months.  Do  not  imagine  I  mean  to 
bid  you  ufe  the  rod  at  that  age  ;  on  the  contrary,  I  mean 
to  prevent  the  ufe  of  it  in  a  great  n;eafure,  and  to  point 
out  a  way  by  v/hich  children  of  fweet  and  eafy  tempers 
may  be  brought  to  i'uch  a  habit  of  compliance,  as  never  to 
need  correction  at  all ;  and  whatever  their  temper  may 
be,  fo  much  lefs  of  this  is  fufficient,  than  upon  any  other 
fuppofition.  This  is  one  of  my  favourite  fchemes ;  let 
me  try  to  explain  and  recommend  it. 

Habits  in  general  may  be  very  early  formed  in  chil- 
dren. An  affociation  of  ideas  is,  as  it  were,  the  parent 
of  habit.  If  then,  you  can  accuftom  your  children  to  per- 
ceive that  your  will  muff  always  prevail  over  theirs,  when 
they  are  oppofed,  the  thing  is  done,  and  they  will  fubm.t 
to  it  without  difficulty  or  regret.  To  bring  this  about,  as 
foon  as  they  begin  to  fliovv  their  inclination  by  defire  or 
averfion,  let  fmgle  inftances  be  chofeu  now  and  then  (not 


5o8  Letters  on  Educatim, 

too  frequently)  to  contradltl  them.  For  example,  if  a 
child  Ihovvs  a  defire  to  have  any  thing  in  his  hand  that  he 
fees,  or  has  any  thing  in  his  hand  with  which  he  is  delight- 
ed, let  the  parent  take  it  from  him,  and  when  he  does  fo, 
let  no  confideration  whatever  make  him  reftore  it  at  that 
time.  Then  at  a  confiderable  interval,  perhaps  a  whole 
day  is  little  enough,  efpecially  at  firfl,  let  the  fame  thing 
be  repeated.  In  the  mean  time,  it  muft  be  carefully  ob- 
ferved,  that  no  attempt  ihould  be  made  to  contradidl  the 
child  in  the  intervals.  Not  the  lead  appearance  of  oppfi- 
tion,  if  pofTible,  Ihould  be  found  between  the  will  of  the 
parent  and  that  of  the  child,  except  hi  thofe  chofen  cafes, 
when  the  parent  mufi  always  prevail. 

I  think  it  neceffary  that  thofe  attempts  fliould  always  be 
made  and  repeated  at  proper  intervals  by  the  llime  perfon. 
It  is  alfo  better  it  fliould  be  by  the  father  than  the  mother 
or  any  female  attendant,  becaufe  they  will  be  neceflarily 
obliged  in  many  cafes  to  do  things  difpleafmg  to  the  child, 
as  in  dreiTrng,  wafhing,  &c.  which  Ipoil  the  operation  -, 
neither  is  it  neceffary  that  they  fhould  interpofe,  for  w^hen 
once  a  full  authority  is  eftabliflied  in  one  perfon,  it  can 
eaiily  be  communicated  to  others,  as  far  as  is  proper.  Re- 
member, hov/ever,  that  mother  or  nurfe  fhould  never 
prefume  to  condole  with  the  child,  or  fhow  any  figns  of 
difpleafure  at  his  being  eroded  ;  but  on  the  contrary,  give 
every  mark  of  approbation,  and  of  their  own  fubmiffion, 
to  the  fame  perfon. 

This  experiment  frequently  repeated  will  in  a  little 
time  fo  perfedlly  habituate  the  child  to  yield  to  the  parent 
whenever  he  interpofes,  that  he  will  make  no  oppofition. 
I  can  affure  you  from  experience,  having  literally  pradli- 
fed  this  method  myfelf,  that  I  never  had  a  child  of  tv/elve 
montlis  old,  but  v/ho  would  fufler  me  to  take  any  thing 
from  him  or  her,  without  the  leafl  mark  of  anger  or  dif- 
fatisfa6lion ;  while  they  would  not  fulFer  any  other  to  do 
fo,  without  the  bitterefl  complaints.  You  will  eafily  per- 
ceive how  this  is  to  be  extended  gradually  and  univerfally, 
from  one  thing  to  another,  from  contradicting  to  com- 
manding them.  But  this,  and  feveral  other  remarks  up- 
on eftablifliing  and  preferving  autliority,  muft  be  referred 
10  another  letter. 


Letters  on  Education.  .   509 


LETTER    III. 
Dear  Sir, 

f^  I  ^HE  theory  laid  down  in  my  lad  letter,  for  eftablhli- 
J^  ing  an  early  and  abfolute  authority  over  children, 
is  of  much  greater  moment  than,  perhaps,  you  will  imme- 
diately apprehend.  There  is  a  great  diverfity  in  the 
temper  and  difpofition  of  children  ;  and  no  lefs  in  the 
penetration,  prudence  and  refolution  of  parents.  From 
all  thele  circumllances,  difficulties  arile,  which  increafe 
very  fall  as  the  work  is  delayed.  Some  children  have 
naturally  very  ftift'  and  obftinate  tempers,  and  fome  have 
a  certain  pride,  or  if  you  pleafe,  grcatnefs  of  mind,  which 
makes  them  think  it  a  mean  thing  to  yield.  I'his  difpo- 
fition is  often  greatly  flrengthened  in  thofe  of  high  birth, 
by  the  ideas  of  their  own  dignity  and  importance,  in  Hilled 
into  them  from  their  mother's  milk.  I  have  known  a  boy 
not  fix  years  of  age,  who  made  it  a  point  of  honor  not  to 
cry  when  he  was  beat  even  by  his  parents.  Other  chil- 
dren have  fo  ftrong  paflions,  or  fo  great  fenfibility,  that  if 
they  receive  corredlion,  they  will  cry  immoderately,  and 
either  be,  or  feem  to  be,  affected  to  fuch  a  degree,  as  to  en- 
danger their  health  or  life.  ISJeither  is  it  uncommon  for 
the  pai'ents  in  fuch  a  cafe  to  give  up  the  point,  and  if  they 
do  not  afk  pardon,  at  leafl  they  give  very  genuine  marks  of 
repentance  and  forrow  for  what  they  have  done. 

I  have  faid  this  is  not  uncommon,  but  1  may  rather  afk 
you  whether  you  know  any  parents  at  all,  who  have  fo 
much  prudence  and  firmnefs  as  not  to  be  difcouraged  in 
the  one  cafe,  or  to  relent  on  the  other  ?  At  the  fame  time 
it  muft  always  be  remembered, that  the  correction  is  wholly 
loft  which  does  not  produce  abfolute  fubmifTion.  Perhaps 
I  may  fay  it  is  more  than  loft,  becaufe  it  will  irritate  in- 
ilead  of  reforming  them,  and  will  inftru6t  or  perfe6l  them 
in  the  art  of  overcoming  their  parents,  which  ihey  will  not 
fail  to  manifeft  on  a  future  opportunity.     It  is  furprifing  to 


510  Letters  on  Education. 

tiiink  how  early  children  will  difcover  the  weak  fide  of 
their  parents,  and  what  ingenuity  they  will  ihow  in  ob- 
taining their  favor  or  avoiding  their  difpleafure.  I  think 
1  have  obferved  a  chikl  in  treaty  or  ex  population  with  a 
parent,  difcover  more  confummate  pohcy  ^t  feven  years 
of  age,  than  the  parent  himfelF,  even  when  attempting  to 
cajole  him  with  artful  evafions  and  fpecious  promifes. 
On  all  thefe  accounts,  it  muft  be  a  vaft  advantage  that  a 
habit  of  fabmiffjon  fhould  be  brought  on  fo  early,  that  even 
memory  itfelf  Ihall  not  be  able  to  reach  back  to  its  begin- 
ning. Unlefs  this  is  done,  there  are  many  cafes  in  which, 
after  the  belt  management,  the  authority  will  be  imperfedl; 
and  fome  in  which  any  thing  that  deferves  that  name  will 
be  impolfible.  There  are  fome  families,  not  contempti- 
ble either  in  ilation  or  chara6ler,  in  which  the  parents  are 
literally  and  properly  obedient  to  their  children,  are  forced 
to  do  things  againft  their  will,  and  chidden  if  they  difco- 
ver the  leall  backwardnefs  to  comply.  If  you  know  none 
fuch,  I  am  fure  I  do. 

Let  us  now  proceed  to  the  befl  means  of  preferving 
authority,  and  the  way  in  which  it  ought  to  be  daily  exer- 
cifed.  I  will  trace  this  to  its  very  fource.  Whatever  au- 
thority you  exercife  over  either  children  or  fervants,  or  as 
a  magiltrate  over  other  citizens,  it  ought  to  be  didated  by 
confcience,  and  dire(^e4  by  a  fenfe  of  duty.  Paffion  or 
tefentment  ought  to  have  as  little  place  as  poflible  ;  or  ra- 
ther, to  fpeak  properly,  though  few  can  boaft  of  having 
arrived  at  full  perfe(?tion,  it  ough^  to  have  no  place  at  all. 
Reproof  or  correction  given  in  a  rage,  is  always  confider^ 
ed  by  him  to  whom  it  is  adminiftered,  as  the  effe6l  of 
v/eaknefs  in  you,  and  therefore  the  demerit  of  the  offence 
will  be  either  wholly  denied  or  foon  forgotten.  1  have 
heard  fome  parents  often  fay,  that  they  cannot  correct 
their  children  unlefs  they  are  angry  ;  to  whom  I  have 
iifually  anfwered,  then  you  ought  not  to  correct  them 
ajt  all.  Every  one  would  be  fenfible,  that  for  a  magif- 
trate  to  difcover  an  intemperate  rage  in  pronouncing  fen- 
tence  againft  a  criminal,  would  be  highly  indecent.  Ought 
not  parents  to  punifh  their  children  in  the  fame  difpaffi- 
onate  manner  I  Ought  they  not  tg  be  ^t  ic^.e^ually  C9n- 


Letters  on  Educatior*  5I1 

cerned  to  difcharge  their  duty  in'  the  bed  manner,  one 
cafe  as  in  the  other  ? 

He  who  would  preferve  his  authority  over  his  children, 
ihould  be  particularly  watchful  of  his  owri  condud.     You 
may  as  well  pretend  to  force  people  to  love  what  is  not 
an.iiir^,  as  to  reverence  what  is  not  refpe6lable.  '  A  de- 
cency of  conduct,  therefore,  and  dignity  of  deportment,  is 
highly  ferviceable  for  the  purpofe  we  have  now  in  view. 
Leit  this,  however,  Ihould  be  miilaken,  I  muft  put  in  a 
caution^  that  T do  not  mean  to  recommend  keeping  chil- 
dren at-  too  great  a  diftance  by  a  uniform  llernnefs  and 
leverity- of  carriage.     This,  I  think,  is  not  neceifary,  even 
when  they  are  young;  and  it  may,  to  children  of  lome 
tempers,  be  very  hurtful  when  they  are  old.     By  and  by 
youlhall  receive  from  me  a  quite  contrary  direction.  But 
by  dignity  of  can  iage,  I  mean  parents  fliowing  themfelvesr 
always  cool  and  reafonable  in  their  own  conduct ;  pru- 
dent and  cautious  in  their  converfation  with  regard  to  the 
red  of  mankind  ;  not  fretful  or  impatient,  or  paffionately 
fond  of  their  own   peculiarities;  and  though  gentle  atld 
affedtionate  to  their  children,  yet  avoiding  levity  in  their' 
prefence.     This,  probably,  is  the  meaning  of  the  precept 
of  the  ancients,  maxima  debetur  pueris  referenda,     I 
would  have  them  chearful,  yet  fcrene.     In  Ihort,  I  would' 
have  their  i'amiliarity  to  be  evidendy  an  a6l  of  condefcen^ 
fion.     Believe  it,  my  dear  fir,  that  which  begets  edeem, 
will  not  lail  to  produce  fubjection. 

That  this  may  not  be  carried  too  far,  I  would  recom- 
mend every  ex  predion  of  ade6lion  and  kindnef^  to  chil- 
dren when  it  is  fafe,  that  is  to  fay,  when  their  behavior 
is  fuch  as  to  deferve  it.  There  is  no  oppofition  at  all  be- 
tween parental  tendernefs  and  parental  authority.  They 
ftre  the  bed  fupports  to  each  other.  It  is  not  only  lawful^ 
but  will  be  of  fervice  that  parents  fhould  difcover  the  great- 
ed  fondnefs  for  children  in  infancy,  and  make  them  per- 
ceive dldindHy  with  how  much  pleafure  they  gratify  all 
their  innocent  inclinations.  This,  however,  mud  al- 
ways be  done  when  they  are  quiet,  gentle,  and  fubmidive 
in  their  carriage.  Some  have  found  fault  with  giving 
them,  for  doing  well,  little  rewards  of  fweetmeats  and 


5ti  jLetters  on  Education. 

playthings,  as  tending  to  make  them  mercenary,  and  lead- 
ing them  to  look  upon  the  indulgence  of  appetite  as  the 
chief  good.  This  I  apprehend,  is  rather  refining  too  much : 
the  great  point  is,  that  they  be  rewarded  for  doing  good, 
and  not  for  doing  evil.  When  they  are  crofs  and  froward, 
I  would  never  buy  peace,  but  force  it.  Nothing  can  be 
more  weak  and  fooliili,  or  more  deflrudlive  of  authority, 
than  when  children  are  noify  and  in  an  ill  humor,  to  give 
them  or  promife  them  fomethiagto  appeafe  them.  When 
the  Roman  emperors  began  to  give  penfions  and  fubfidies 
to  the  Northern  nations  to  keep  them  quiet,  a  man  might 
have  forefeen  without  the  f[:)irit  of  prophecy,  who  would 
Ixi  mafler  in  a  little  time.  The  cafe  is  exactly  the  fame 
with  children.  They  will  foon  avail  themfelves  of  this 
eafmefs  in  their  parents,  command  favors  inllead  of  beg- 
ging them,  and  be  infolent  when  they  fliould  be  grateful. 

The  fame  condu6l  ought  to  be  uniformly  preferved  as 
children  advance  in  years  and  underftanding.  Let  pa- 
rents try  to  convince  them  how  much  they  have  their  real 
intereft  at  heart.  Sometimes  children  will  make  a  re- 
queft,  and  receive  a  hafty  or  froward  denial :  yet  upon 
reflection  the  thing  appears  not  to  be  unreafonable,  and 
finally  it  is  granted ;  and  whether  it  be  right  or  wrong, 
fometimes  by  the  force  of  importunity,  it  is  extorted.  If 
parents  expedl  either  gratitude  or  fubmiffion  for  favors  fo 
ungracioully  beftowed,  they  will  find  themfelves  egregi- 
Qufly  miflaken.  It  is  their  duty  to  profecute,  and  it 
ought  to  be  their  comfort  to  fee,  the  happinefs  of  their 
children  ;  and  therefore  they  ought  to  lay  it  down  as  a 
rule,  never  to  give  a  fudden  or  hafiy  refuial ;:  but  when  any- 
thing is  propofed  to  them,  confider  deliberately  and  fully 
whether  it  is  proper — and  after  that,  either  grant  it  chear- 
i\x\\)\  or  deny  it  firmly. 

]t  is  a  noble  fupport  of  authority,  when  it  Is  really  and 
Yifibly  direded  to  the  moft  important  end.  My  meaning 
in  this,  I  hope,  is  not  obfcuve.  The  end  I  confider  as 
inoll  important  is,  the  glory  of  God  in  the  eternal  happi- 
nefs and  falvation  of  children.  Whoever  believes  in  a 
future  flatc,  whoever  has  a  jufl:  fenfe  of  the  importance 
«f  eternity  to  l^imfelf,  cannot  fail  to  have  a  like  concern 


Letters  on  Education,         .       -       Hx 


D^J 


for  his  offspring.  This  Ihould  be  his  end  both  in 
inflruftion  and  government ;  and  when  it  vifibly  ap- 
pears that  he  is  under  the  conflraint  of  confcience,  and 
that  either  reproof  or  corredlion  are  the  fruit  of  fandlified 
Jove,  it  will  give  them  irrefillible  force.  I  will  tell  you 
here,  with  all  the  fmiplicity  neceifary  in  fuch  a  fituation, 
what  I  have  often  faid  in  my  courfe  of  paftoral  vifitation 
in  families,  where  there  is  in  many  cales,  through  want 
of  judgment,  as  well  as  v/ant  of  principle,  a  great  ncg- 
Ie6t  of  authority.  "  Ufe  your  authority  for  God,  and  he 
will  fupport  it.  Let  it  always  he  feen  that  you  are  more 
difpleafed  at  fm  than  at  folly.  What  a  iliame  is  it,  that 
if  a  child  fhall,  through  the  inattention  and  levity  of  youth, 
break  a  dilh  or  a  pane  of  the  window,  by  which  you  may 
lok  the  value  of  a  few  pence,  you  fliould  ftorm  and  rage 
at  him  with  the  utmoft  fury,  or  perhaps  beat  him  with 
unmerciful  fever ity  ;  but  if  he  tells  a  lie,  or  takes  the  name 
of  God  in  vain,  or  quarrels  with  his  neighbors,  he  fliall 
eafily  obtain  pardon  :  or  perhaps,  if  he  is  reproved  by 
others,  you  will  jufHfy  him,  and  take  his  part." 

You  cannot  eafily  believe  the  weight  that  it  gives  to  fa- 
mily authority,  when  it  appears  vifibly  to  proceed  from  a 
fenfe  of  duty,  and  to  be  itfelf  an  a6l  of  obedience  to 
Godc  This  will  produce  coolnefs  and  compofure  in  the 
manner,  it  will  direct  and  enable  a  parent  to  mix  every 
expreflion  of  heart-felt  tendernefs,  with  the  mofl  fevere 
and  needful  reproofs.  It  will  make  it  quite  confident  to 
affirm,  that  the  rod  itfelf  is  an  evidence  of  love,  and  that 
it  is  true  of  every  pious  parent  on  earth,  what  is  faid  of 
pur  Father  in  heaven :  ''  Whom  the  Lord  loveth,  he 
chafi:eneth,  and  fcourgeth  every  fon  whom  he  receiveth. 
If  ye  endure  chaflenlng,  God  dealeth  with  you  as  with 
fons  :  for  what  fon  is  he  whom  the  Father  chafleneth  not  ? 
But  if  ye  are  w^ithout  chaftifement,  whereof  all  are  par- 
takers, then  ye  are  baihrds  and  not  fons."  With  this 
maxim  in  your  eye^  I  would  recommend,  that  folem.nity 
take  the  place  of,  and  be  fabflituted  for  fever  ity.  When 
a  child,"  for  example,  difcovers  a  very  depraved  difpofi- 
tion,  iiillead  of  multiplying  flripes  in  proportion  to  the 
reiterated  provocations,  every  circumllance  fiiould  be  in- 

VoL.  m.  3  T 


514  Letters  on  EducatiGJt, 

troduced,  whether  in  reproof  or  puniiliment,  that  can  ei- 
ther difcover  the  ftrlournefs  of  your  mind,  or  make  an; 
imprc-ffion  of  awe  and  reverence   upon   his.     The  time 
may  be  fixed  before  hand — at  fome  diftance — the  Lord's 
day — his  own  birth-day — with  many  other  circumftances 
that  may  be  fo  fpecial  that  it  is  impoflible  to   enumerate 
them.     I  fiiall  ]\\i\  repeat  what  }  ou  have  heard  often  from 
me  in  converfation,  that  feveral  pious  perfons  made  it  aa 
invariable  cuftom,  as  icon  as  their  children  could  read, 
never  to  correal  them,  but  after  they  had  read  over  all  the 
paffages  of  fcripture  which  command  it,  and  generally  ac- 
companied it  witl\  prayer  to  God  for  his  bleffing.     I  know 
well  with  what  ridicule  this  would  be  treated  by  many,  if 
publicly  mentioned  ;  but  that  does  not  fhake  my  judgment 
in  the  leail,  being  fully  convinced  it  is  a  moll  excellent 
method,  and  that  it  is  impoilible  to  blot  from  the  minds  of 
children,  while  they  live  upon  earth,  tlie  impreffions  that 
are  made  by  thefe  means,  or  to  abate  the  veneration  they 
will  retain  for  the  parents  who  aded  fuch  a  part. 

Suffer  me  here  to  obferve  to  you,  that  fuch  a  plan  as 
the  above  requires  judgment,  refle6lion,  and  great  at-  . 
tention  in  ycur  Vvhole  conduiSf.  Take  heed  tha.t  there.  ' 
be  nothing  admitted  in  the  intervals  that  counteract  it. 
Nothing  is  more  deflru6live  of  authority,  than  frequent 
difputes  and  chiding  tipon  fmall  iriatters.  This  is  often 
more  irklbme  to  children  than  parents  are  aware  of.  It| 
weakens  their  influence  infenfibly,  and  in  time  makes 
their  opinion  and  judgment  of  little  weight,  if  not  wholly 
contemptible.  As  before  I  recommended  dignity  in  your 
general  condudl,  io  in  a  particular  manner,  let  the  utmoll 
care  be  taken  not  to  render  authority  cheap,  by  too  often 
interpofing  it.  There  is  really  too  great  a  rifle  to  be  run 
in  every  fuch  inftance.  If  parents  will  be  deciding  di- 
re(^ly,  and  cenfuring  every  moment,  it  is  to  be  fuppoled 
they  w^ill  be  fometimes  wrong,  and  when  this  evidently  ap- 
pears, it  will  take  away  from  the  credit  of  their  opinion, 
and  weaken  their  influence,  even  Vv^here  it  ought  to  pre- 
vail. 

Upon  the  whole,  to  encourage  you  to  choofe  a  wife  plan, 
and  to  adhere  to  it  with  firmnefs,  1  can  venture  to  allure 


Letters  on  Education,  5 15 

you,  that  there  is  no  doubt  of  your  fuccefs.  To  fubdue 
■a  youth  after  he  has  been  long  accuflomed  to  indulgence, 
I  take  to  be  in  all  cafes  difficult,  and  in  many  i^T,poffi^  le  ; 
but  while  the  body  is  tender,  to  bring  the  mind  to  fub- 
miffion,  to  train  up  a  child  in  the  nurture  and  admonition 
of  the  Lord,  I  know  is  not  impoffible  :  and  he  who  hath 
given  thecomraand,  can  fcarcely  (ail  to  {fJilow  it  with  his 
blefSng. 


LETTER     IV. 

Dear  Sir, 

xWINGnow  finifhed  what  I  propofL-d  to  hy  on  the 
means  of  eflablilirmg  and  prefeiving  authority,  I 
ihall  proceed  to  another  very  important  branch  of  the  iub- 
je6l,  and  beg  your  very  particular  attention  to  it,  viz.  ex- 
Jimple.  Do  not,  however,  iuppofe  tliat  Imean  to  enter  on 
that  mofl  beaten  of  all  topics,  the  influence  of  example 
in  general,  or  to  write  a  difiertation  on  the  <:ommon  fay- 
ing, that  *'  example  teaches  better  than  p*ecept.'^'  An 
able  writer,  doubilefs,  miight  fet  even  this  in  fome  new 
lights,  and  make  it  a  flrong  argument  with  every  good 
man  to  pay  the  flriOeil:  attention  to  his  viflble  condudl. 
What  we  fee  every  day  has  a  conllant  and  powerful  influ- 
ence on  our  t-emper  and  carriage.  Hence  arife  national 
charadlers,  and  national  manners,  and  every  c^aradcrilMc 
diftinLtion  of  age  and  place.  But  of  this  I  have  already 
faid  enough. 

Neither  is  it  my  purpofe  to  put  you  in  mind  of  the  im- 
portance of  example  to  enforce  inflruclion,  or  of  the  fliame- 
luinefs  of  a  man's  pretending  to  teach  others  what  he  def- 
pifes  himfelf.  This  ought  in  the  ftrongelL  manner  to  be 
laid  before  padors  and  other  public  perfons,  who  often  de- 
feat habitually  by  their  lives,  what  they  attempt  to  do  oc- 
cafionally  in  the  execution  of  their  ofiice.  If  there  re- 
mains the  leaft  fufpicion  of  your  being  of  that  chara6ter, 
thefe  letters  would  have  been  quite  in  another  ftrain.  I 
felieve  there  are  fome   perfons  of  very  irregular  lives.'; 


5t6  Letters  on  EdiicatioH, 

who  have  fo  much  natural  light  in  their  confciences,  that 
they  would  be  grieved  or  perhaps  offended,  if  their  chil- 
dren fhould  tread  exactly  in  their  own  fteps:  but  even  thefe, 
and  much  lefs  others,  who  are  more  hardened,  can  never 
be  expefted  to  undertake  or  cany  on  the  lyftem  of  edu- 
cation, we  are  ncv/  endeavoring  to  illuftrate.  Suffer  me, 
however,  before  I  proceed,  to  make  one  remark  :  when 
I  have  heard  of  parents  who  have  been  watched  by  their 
own  chiklren,  when  drunk,  and  taken  care  of,  left  they 
ihould  meet  with  injury  or  hurtful  accidents — or  v/hofe 
intemperate  rage  and  horrid  blafphemies,  have,  without 
fcruple,  been  expofed  both  to  children  and  fervants — or 
who,  as  has  been  fornetimes  the  cafe,  were  fcarcely  at  the 
pains  to  conceal  their  criminal  amours,  even  from  their 
own' offspring — I  have  often  rcf{e6led  on  the  degree  of  im- 
piety in  principle,  or  fearednefs  of  confcience,  or  both 
united,  neceffary  to  fupport  them  in  fuch  circumflanccs. 
Let  us  leave  all  fuch  with  a  mixture  of  pity  and  difdain. 

By  mentioning  example,  therefore,  as  an  important 
and  neceffary  branch  of  the  education  of  children,  I  have 
chiefly  in  view  a  great  number  of  particulars,  which,  fepa- 
rately  taken,  are,  or  at  leaft  are  fuppofed  to  be,  of  little 
moment ;  yet  by  their  union  or  frequent  repetition,  pro- 
duce important  and  lafting  effedls.  I  have  alfo  in  view- 
to  include  all  that  clafs  of  actions,  in  which  there  is,  or 
may  be,  a  coincidence  between  the  duties  of  piety  and 
politenefs,  and  by  means  of  which,  the  one  is  incorpora- 
ted with  the  other.  Thcfe  are  to  be  introduced  under  the 
head  of  example,  becaufe  they  will  appear  there  to  beft  ad- 
vantage, and  becaufe  many  of  them  can  hardly  be  taught 
or  undenlood  in  any  other  way. 

This,  I  apprehend,  you  will  readily  approve  of,  be- 
caufe, though  3^ou  jullly  confider  religion  as  the  moft  ef- 
fentiaily  necefl'arv  qualification,  you  mean  at  the  fame 
time  that  your  children  fhould  be  fitted  for  an  appearance 
becoming  their  flation  in  the  world.  It  is  alio  the  more 
neceffary,  as  many  are  apt  to  disjoin  wholly  the  ideas  of 
piety  and  politenefs,  and  to  fuppofe  them  not  only  dif- 
tin(!t,  but  incompatible.  This  is  a  dangerous  fnare  to 
many  parents,  who  think  there  is  no  medium  between 


Lett&rs  on  Education.       >  517 

the  grofieft  rullicity,  and  giving  way  to  all  the  vanity  and 
extravagance  of  a  diflipated  life.  Perfons  truly  pious  ha.ve 
often  by  their  condu6l  given  countenance  to  this  miftake. 
By  a  certain  narrownefs  of  fentiment  and  behavior  they 
have  become  themfelves,  and  rendered  their  children,  un- 
fit for  a  general  intercourfe  with  mankind,  or  the  public 
duties  of  an  aftive  life. 

You  know,  Sir,  as  much  as  any  man^  how  contrary  my 
opinion  and  conduct  have  been  upon  this  fubject.  I  can- 
not help  thinking  that  true  religion  is  not  only  confident 
with,  but  neceffary  to  the  perfection  of  true  politenefs. 
There  is  a  noble  fentiment  to  this  purpofe  illuilrated  at 
confiderable  length  in  the  Port-royal  elTays,  viz.  ''  That 
*'  worldly  politenefs  is  no  more  than  an  imitation  or  im- 
*'  perfe(R:  copy  of  chriflian  charity,  being  the  pretence  or 
*'  outward  appearance,  of  that  deference  to  the  judgment, 
"  and  attention  to  the  interefl  of  others,  which  a  true 
"  chriflian  has  as  the  rule  of  his  life,  and  the  difpofition 
"  of  his  heart."*  I  have  atprefent  in  my  mind  the  idea 
pf  certain  perfons,  whom  you  w^ill  eafily  guefs  at,  of  the 
firfl  quality  ;  one  or  two  of  the  male,  and  twice  that  num- 
ber at  leall  of  the  female  fex,  in  whom  piety  and  high  fta- 
tion  are  united.  What  a  fweetnefs  aud  complacency  of 
countenance,  what  a  condefcenfion  and  gentlencfs  of  man- 
ners, ariling  from  the  humility  of  the  gofpel  being  joined 
to  the  rciined  elegance  infeparable  from  their  circuinRan- 
ces  in  life ! 

Be  pleafed  to  follow  m.e  to  the  other  extreme  of  human 
fociety.  Let  us  go  to  the  remotell  cottage  of  the  wiklcfl: 
country,  and  vifitthe  family  that  in  habits  it.  If  they  are 
pious,  there  is  a  certain  humanity  and  good  will  attend- 
ing  their  fimplicity,  which  makes  it  highly  agreeable. 
There  is  alfo  a  decency  in  their  fentiments,  wliich,  fjov/- 

*  The  authors  of  thefe  efTays,  commonly  called  by  writers  vv  ho  makr 
jPientJon  ot  them,  the  gentlemen  of  Port-Royal,  were  a  Icciety  of  Jan- 
fenius  in  France,  who  ulcd  to  meet  at  that  place;  all  of  whom  wers 
eminent  for  literature,  and  many  of  them  of  high  rank,  as  will  be  evi- 
dent by  mentioni-ng  the  names  of  Pafcal,  A  maud,  and  the  prince  of 
Conti.  Th^  lall  v>  as  the  author  of  the  effay  t'l-ora  wliich  the  above  remark 
is  taken  o  ...    ^  ■        ■ 


5iS  Letters  on  Education, 

ing  from  the  di£lates  of  confcience,  is  as  pleafing  m  al! 
refpecls  as  the  reflraint  impofed  by  the  rules  of  good-breed- 
ing, with  which  the  perfons  here  in  view  have  little  op- 
portunity of  being  acquainted.  On  the  contrary,  unbred 
.country  people,  when  without  principle,  have  generally  a 
favagenefs  and  brutality  in  their  carriage,  as  contrary  to 
good  manners  as  to  piety  itfelf.  No  one  has  a  better  op- 
portunity of  making  obfervations  of  this  kind,  than  I  have 
from  my  ofBce  and  fituation,  and  I  can  alTure  you,  that 
religion  is  the  great  polilher  of  the  common  people.  It 
even  enlarges  their  underllanding  as  to  other  things, 
Having  been  accuflomed  to  exercife  their  judgment  and 
refle^lion  on  religious  fubjedls,  they  are  capable  of  talking 
more  fenfibly  on  agriculture,  politics,  or  any  common 
topic  of  indifferent  converfation. 

Let  me  not  forget  to  fpeak  of  the  middle  ranks  of  life. 
Here,  alfo,  I  fcruple  not  to  affirm,  that  whatever  fphere  a 
man  has  been  bred  in,  or  attained  to,  religion  is  not  an  in- 
jury but  an  addition  to  the  politenefs  of  his  carriage.  They 
feem  indeed  to  confefs  their  relation  to  one  another,  by 
their  reciprocal  influence.  In  promifcuous  converfation, 
as  true  religion  contributes  to  make  men  decent  or  cour- 
teous, fo  true  politenefs  guards  them  effe6lually  from  any 
outrage  againil  piety  or  purity.  If  I  were  unhappily 
thrown  into  mixed  or  dangerous  company,  I  Ihould  not 
apprehend  any  thing  improper  for  me  to  hear  from  the 
moil:  wicked  man,  but  from  the  greateft  clown.  I  have 
known  gentlemen  who  were  infidels  in  principle,  and 
v/hofe  lives,  I  had  reafon  to  believe,  were  privately  very 
bad,  yet  in  converfation  they  v/ere  guarded,  decent  and 
improving  ;  whereas  if  there  come  into  company  a  rough, 
unpolillied  country  gentleman,  no  man  can  promife  that 
he  will  not  break  out  into  fome  profane  exclamation  or 
obfcene  allufion,  which  it  would  be  wrong  to  attribute  to 
impiety,  fo  much  as  to  rudenefs  and  want  of  refleiSlion. 

I  have  been  already  too  long  in  the  introdudion,  and 
in  giving  the  reafons  for  what  I  propofe  iliall  make  a  part 
of  this  branch  of  the  fubjecl,  and  yet  I  muft  make  another 
preliminary  remark  :  there  is  the  greater  neceffity  for  uni- 
ting piety  and  politenefs  in  the  fyilem  of  family  example, 


Letters  oh  Education.  519 

that  as  piety  is  by  that  means  inculcated  with  the  greateft 
advantage,  fo  politenefs  can  fcarcely  be  attained  in  other 
way.  It  is  very  rare  that  perfons  reach  a  higher  degree 
of  politenefs,  than  what  they  have  been  formed  to  in  the 
families  of  their  parents  and  other  near  relations.  True 
politenefs  does  not  confifl  indrefs,  or  a  few  motions  of  the 
body,  but  in  a  habit  of  fentiment  and  converfation :  the 
firfl  may  be  learned  from  a  mailer,  and  in  a  little  time  ; 
the  laft  only  by  a  long  and  conilant  intercourfe  with  thofe 
who  poirefs,  and  are  therefore  able  to  impart  it.  As  the 
difficulty  is  certainly  greateft  with  the  female  fex,  becaufe 
they  have  fewer  opportunities  of  being  abroad  in  the  world, 
I  ihall  take  an  example  from  among  them. 

Suppofe  a  man  of  low  birth  living  in  the  country,  by 
indullry  and  parfimony  has  become  wealthy,  and  has  a 
daughter  to  w  hom  he  defires  to  give  a  genteel  education. 
He  fends  her  to  your  city  to  a  boarding  fchool,  for  the 
other  which  is  nearer  me,  you  are  pleafed  not  to  think 
fufficient  for  that  purpofe.  She  will  fpeedily  learn  to  buy 
expenfive  and  fafnionable  clothes,  and  moil  probably  be 
in  the  very  height  and  extravagance  of  the  falliion,  one  of 
the  furell  ligns  of  a  vulgar  taile.  She  may  alfo,  if  her  ca- 
pacity is  tolerable,  get  rid  of  her  ruilic  air  and  carriage  ; 
and  if  it  be  better  than  ordinary,  learn  to  difcourfe  upon 
whatever  topic  is  then  in  vogue,  and  comes  in  immedi- 
ately after  the  weather,  which  is  the  beginning  of  all  con- 
verfation. But  as  her  refidence  is  only  for  a  time,  flie 
returns  home  ;  where  ilie  can  fee  or  hear  nothing  but  as 
before.  Muil  Ihe  not  relapie  i'peedily  in  the  fame  vulgar- 
ity of  fentiment,  and  perhaps  the  fame  provincial  dialed, 
to  which  ilie  had  been  accuilomed  from  her  youth  ?  Nei- 
ther is  it  impoiTible  that  ihe  may  juH  retain  as  much  of  the 
city  ceremonial,  as  by  the  incongruous  mixture,  will  ren- 
der her  ridiculous.  There  is  but  one  fingle  way  of  efcape, 
which  we  have  feen  fome  young  women  of  merit  and  ca- 
pacity take,  which  is  to  contradt  an  intimacy  v/ith  perfons 
of  liberal  fentiments  and  higher  breeding,  and  be  as  little 
among  their  relations  as  poifible.  I  have  given  this  dt'L- 
cription  to  convince  you  that  it  is  in  their  father's  houfe 
and  by  the  converfatioa  and  manners,  to  which  they  are 


520  Letters  on  Education^ 

tlifereaccuftomed,  that  children  muft  be  formed  to  politenefs, 
as  well  as  to  virtue*  I  carry  this  matter  fo  far,  that  I  think 
it  a  difadvantage  to  be  bred  too  high,  as  well  as  too  low. 
J  do  not  defire,  and  have  always  declined  any  opportuni- 
ties given  nie  of  having  my  children  refide  long  in  fami- 
lies of  high  rank.  I  was  afraid  they  would  contract  an 
air  and  manner  unfuitabie  to  what  was  to  be  their  condi- 
tion for  the  remainder  of  their  lives.  I  would  willi  to 
give  my  children  as  juft,  as  noble,  and  as  elegant  fenti- 
ments  as  pollible,  to  fit  them  for  rational  converfation,  but 
a  drefs  and  carriage  fuited  to  their  Itation,  and  not  incon- 
fillent  with  the  meeknefs  of  the  gofpel. 

Though  the  length  of  this  digreffion,  or  explanatory  in- 
trodu(^ion,  has  made  it  impoi]i:>le  to  fay  much  in  this  let- 
ter on  forming  children's  character  and  manners  by  ex- 
ample, before  I  conclude  I  will  give  one  direction  which 
is  pretty  comprehenfive.  Give  the  utmolt  attention  to  the 
manner  of  receiving  and  entertaining  ftrangers  in  your 
family,  as  well  as  to  your  fentiments  and  exprelfions  wuh 
regard  to  them  when  they  are  gone.  I  am  fully  perfuaded 
that  the  plained  and  lliortefl:  road  to  real  politenefs  of  car- 
riage, and  the  moil  amiable  fort  of  hofpitality,  is  to  think 
of  others  juil  as  a  chrillian  ought,  and  to  exprefs  thefe 
thoughts  with  modeity  and  candor.  This  will  keep  you 
at  an  equal  dif lance  from  a  furly  and  morofe  carriage  on 
the  one  hand,  and  a  fawning  cringing  obfequioufnefs,  or 
iinnecellary  compliment  and  ceremony  on  the  other.  As 
thefe  are  circumilances  to  which  children  in  early  life  are 
very  attentive,  and  which  occur  conilantly  in  their  pre- 
ience,  it  is  of  much  moment  what  fentiments  they  imbibe 
from  tlie  behavior  of  their  parents.  I  do  not  mean  only 
their  learning  from  tlieni  an  eafe  and  dignity  of  carriage, 
or  the  contrary  ;  but  alfo,  fome  moral  or  immoral  habits 
of  the  lalt  confequcnce.  If  they  perceive  you  happy  and 
lilted  up  with  the  vifit  or  countenance  of  perfons  of  high 
rank,  felicitous  to  entertain  them  properly,  fubmilfive  and 
iiatttring  in  your  manner  of  f[3eaking  to  them,  vain  and 
apt  to  boall  of  your  connexion  with  them  :  and  if,  on  the 
contrary,  they  perceive  you  hardly  civil  to  perfons  of  in- 
ferior ilations,   or  narrow    circumilances,  impatient  ol 


Letters  on  Education,  52  f 

their  company,  and  immediately  feizin;^  the  opportunity 
of  their  departure  to  deipife  or  expofe  them  ;  v/.U  not  this 
naturally  lead  the  voune  mind  to  confider  riches  and  hicrh 
llation  as  the  great  fources  of  earthly  hAppinefs  r  Will  it^ 
not  give  a  flrong  bias  to  their  whole  defires  and  ftudies,  as 
well  as  vifibiy  affect  their  behavior  to  others  in  fecial  life. 
Do  not  think  that  this  is  too  nice  and  refined  :  the  iirft  im- 
prellions  upon  young  perfons,  though  inconfiderable  in 
themfelves,  have  often  a  great  as  well  as  laftin'j  effect. 

I  remember  to  have  read  many  years  ago,  in  the  arch- 
bifhop  of  Cambray's  education  of  a  daughter,  an  advice  to 
parents  to  let  their  children  perceive  that  they  efteem 
others,  not  according  to  their  fcation  or  outv/ard  Iplendor, 
but  their  vhtue  and  real  worth.  It  mufl:  be  acknowledged 
that  there  are  ibme  marks  of  refpe£l  due  to  men,  accord- 
ing to  their  place  in  civil  life,  which  a  good  man  would 
not  fail  to  give  them,  even  for  confcience  fake.  But  it  is 
an  ealy  matter,  in  perfedl  confiftency  with  this,  by  more 
frequent  voluntary  intercourfe,  as  well  as  by  our  ufual 
manner  of  fpeaking,  to  pay  that  homage  which  is  due  to 
piety,  to  exprefs  our  contempt  or  indignation  at  vice,  or 
meannefs  or  every  kind.  I  think  it  no  inconfiderable  ad- 
dition to  this  remark,  that  we  fhould  be  as  cautious  of  ef- 
timating  happiness  as  ^virtue  by  outy/ard  ftation ;  and 
keep  at  the  fame  diftance  from  envying  as  from  flattering 
the  great. 

But  what  I  muft  particularly  recommend  to  you,  is  to 
avoid  that  common  but  detellable  cuilom  of  receiving  per- 
fons with  courtefy,  and  all  the  marks  of  real  friendfhip  in 
your  houfe  ;  and  the  moment  they  are  gone,  falling  upon 
their  character  and  conduct  with  unmerciful  feverity.  I 
am  fenfible  there  are  fome  cafes,  though  they  are  not  nu- 
merous, in  \vhich  it  may  be  lawful  to  fay  of  others  behind 
their  back,  what  it  would  be  at  leaft  imprudent  or  unfafe 
to  fay  in  their  own  prefence.  Neither  y^ould  I  exclude 
parents  from  the  advantage  of  pointing  out  to  their  cliil- 
dren  the  miftakes  and  vices  oF  others,  as  a  warning  or  lef- 
fon  of  inftrudlion  to  themfelves.  Yet  as  delraction  in  ge- 
neral is  to  be  avoided  at  all  times  ;  fo  of  all  others  the 
moR  improper  feafon  to  fpeak  to  any  niaVi's  prejudice,  isj 

Vol.  Ill;  '  3  U      ' 


522  Letters  on  Educatim, 

after  you  have  juft  received  and  treated  him  in  an  hofpr^  ^ 
table  manner,  as  a  friend.  There  is  fomething  mean  in 
it^  and  fomething  fo  nearly  allied  to  hypocrify  and  difm- 
genuity,  that  I  would  not  choofe  to  a6\  fuch  a  part  even 
to  thofe  whom  I  would  take  another  opportunity  of  point- 
ing out  to  my  children,  as  perfons  whole  converfation 
they  fhould  avoid,  and  whofe  conduct  they  fnould  abhor. 

In  every  (lation,  and  among  all  ranks,  this  rule  is  of- 
ten tranfgreifed ;  but  there  is  one  point  in  which  it  is 
more  frequently  and  more  univerfally  tranfgreifed  than  in 
any  other,  and  that  is  by  turning  the  abfent  into  ridicule, 
for  any  thing  odd  or  aukward  in  their  behavior.  I  am 
forry  to  fay  that  this  is  an  indecorum  that  prevails  in  fe- 
veral  families  of  high  rank.  A  m.an  of  inferior  ftation,. 
for  fome  particular  reafon  is  admitted  to  their  company. 
He  is  perhaps  not  well  acquainted  with  the  rules  of  po- 
litenels,  and  the  prefence  of  his  fuperiors,  to  which  he  is 
unaccuilomed,  increafes  his  embarraffment.  Immedi- 
ately on  his  departure,  a  petulent  boy  or  giddy  girl  will 
fet  about  mimicking  his  motions  and  repeating  his  phrafes, 
to  the  great  entertainment  of  the  company,  who  appa- 
rently derive  much  felf-fatisfad\ion  from  a  circumllance 
in  which  there  is  no  merit  at  all.  If  any  perfon  renders 
himfelf  jullly  ridiculous,  by  afFeding  a  character  which  he 
is  unable  to  full aixi,.  let  him  be  treated  with  the  contempt  he 
delerves.  But  there  is  fomething  very  ungenerous  in 
people  treating  their  inferiors  with  difdain,  merely  becaufe 
.the  lame  Providence  that  made  their  anceftors  great,  left 
the  others  in  a  lower  fphere. 

It  has  often  given  me  great  indignation  to  fee  a  gentle-^ 
man  or  his  wife,  of  real  Vv'orth,  good  underllanding,  but 
fimple  manners,  defpifed  and  ridiculed  for  a  defe£l  which 
they  could  not  remedy,  and  that  often  by  perfons  the  mofl 
infignificant  and  frivolous,  who  never  uttered  a  fentence 
in  their  lives  that  deferved  to  be  remembered  or  repeated. 
But  if  this  condudt  is  ungenerous  in  the  great,  how  di- 
verting is  it  to  fee  the  fame  difpofition  carried  down 
through  all  the  inferior  ranks,  and  ihowing  itfelf  in  a 
filly  triumph  of  every  clafs  over  thofe  who  are  fuppofed 
%o  be  below  them  ?  I  have  known  many  perfons,  who  fa 


Letters  on  Education,  -  52J 

ilation  was  not  fuperlor  to  mine,  take  great  pleafure  in 
exprefling  their  contempt  of  vulgar  ideas  and  lo%\)  life ; 
and  even  a  tradefman's  wife  in  a  city,  glorying  over  the 
unpohlhcd  manners  of  her  country  acquaintance. 

Upon  the  whole,  as  there  is  no  dilpoiition  to  which 
young  perfons  are  more  prone  than  derifion,  or,  as  the 
autiior  1  cited  above,  Mr.  Fenelon,  expreffes  it,  iin  esprit 
mocqiier  et  ?ncdin — and  few  that  parents  are  more  apt  to 
-cherilh — under  the  idea  of  its  being  a  fign  of  fprightlinefs 
and  vivacity — there  is  none  which  a  pious  and  prudent 
parent  ihould  take  greater  care  to  reftrain  by  admonition, 
and  deliroy  by  a  contj*ary  example. 


L  E  T  T  E  R    V. 

Dear  Sir, 

LET  us  now  proceed  to  confider  more  fully  what  it 
is  to  form  children  to  piety  by  example.     This   is 
a  lubjed  of  great  extent,  and,  perhaps,  of  diffiQulty.  The 
difficulty,  however,  does  not  confiii  either  in  the  abltrufe- 
nefs  of  the  arguments,   or  uncertainty  of  the  fa^^s  upon 
which  they  are  tounded,  but  in  the  minutenefs  or  trifling 
nature   of    the   circumilances,   taken    fepas  ately,   which 
makes  them  often  either  wholly  unnoticed  or  greatly  un- 
dervalued^    It  is  a  iubjeQ,  which,   if  1   miitake  not,    i§ 
much    more   eafily   conceived   than   explained,      if  you 
have  it  conltantly  in  your  mind,  that  your  whole  viffble 
deportment  will  powerfully,  though  infenfibly,  influence 
the  opinions  and  future  condudl  of  your  children,  it  will 
give  a  form  or  colour,  if  1  may  fpeak  fo,  to  every  thing 
you  fay  or  do.     There  are  numberlefs  and  namelefs  in- 
stances in  which  this  reflexion  will  make  you  fpeak,  or 
refrain  from  fpeaking,  add,  or  abftain  from,  fome  circum- 
ilances of  aclion,  in  what  you  are  engaged  in  ;  nor  will 
this  be  accompanied  with  any  reludlance  in  the  one  cafe, 
m  eonftraint  in  the  pther. 


P4 


Letters  on  Education. 


But  I  mufl  not  content  myfelf  with  this.  My  profef- 
fion  gives  me  many  opportunities  of  obferving,  that  the 
impreffion  m.ade  by  general  truths,  however  jullly  ftated 
or  fully  proved,  is  feldom  ftrong  or  lailing.  Let  me, 
therefore  defcend  to  pradlice,  and  illuilrate  v/hat  I  have 
faid  by  examples.  Here  again  a  difficulty  occurs.  If  I 
give  a  particular  inftance  it  will  perhaps  operate  no  farther 
than  recommending^  a  like  condu6l  in  circumftances  the 
ikme,or  perhaps  perfe6tly  fiiiiilar.  For  example.  I  might  fay, 
infpeaking  to  the  difadvaniap^e  of  abfent  perfons,  I  befeech 
you  never  fail  to  add  the  reafon  why  you  take  fuch  liberty, 
and  indeed  never  take  that  liberty  at  all,  but  when  it  can 
be  juliilied  upon  the  principles  of  prudence,  candor  and 
charity.  ^  A  thing  may  be  right  in  itfelf,  but  children 
fhould  be  made  to  fee  why  it  is  right.  This  is  one  in- 
flance  of  exemplary  caution,  but  if  I  were  to  add  a  dozen 
more  to  it,  they  would  only  be  detached  precepts  ;  where- 
as I  am  anxious  to  take  in  the  whole  extent  of  edifying 
example.  In  order  to  this,  let  me  range  or  divide  what 
I  have  to  fay,  under  diftind  heads.  A  parent  who  wilhes 
that  his  example  iliould  be  a  fpeaking  lefibn  to  his  chil- 
dren, fliould  order  it  fo  as  to  convince  them,  that  he  con- 
fiders  religion  as  necellary,  refpedable,  amiable,  profitable, 
^  and  delightful.  I  am  fenfible  that  fome  of  thefe  charac- 
ters may  feem  fo  nearly  allied,  as  fcarcely  to  admit  of  a 
dillin6tion.'  Many  parts  of  a  virtuous  condudl  fall  under 
more  than  one  of  thefe  denominations.  Some  adions 
perhaps  defer ve  all  the  epithets  here  mentioned,  without 
exception  and  without  prejudice  one  of  another.  But  the 
'didinclions  feem  to  me  very  ufeful,  for  there  is  cer- 
tainly a  clafs  of  anions  which  may  be  faid  to  belong  pe- 
culiarly, or  at  leafl  eminently,  to  each  of  thefe  different 
heads.-  By  taking  them  feparately,  therefore,  it  will  ferve 
to  point  out  more  fully  the  extent  of  your  di.ty,  and  to 
fuggeft  it  when  it  would  not  otherwife  occur,  as  well  as  to 
iet  the  obligation  to  it  in  the  itr®nger  light. 

I.  You  Ihoiild,  in  your  general  deportment,  make  your 
children  perceive  that  you  look  upon  religion  as  abfolutely 
becefiary.  I  place  this  firft,  becaufe  it  appears  to  me  firll 
both  in   point  of  order  and  force.     I  aci  far  from  being 


Letters  on  Education,  525 

againll  taking  all  pains  to  iliovv  that  religion  is  rational  and 
.honorable  in  itfelf,  and  vice  the  contrary ;  but  1  deipile 
the  foolilh  refinement  of  thofe,  who,  through  fear  of  ma- 
king children  mercenary,  are  for  being  very  fparing  of  the 
mention  of  heaven  or  hell.  Such  conduQ  is  apt  to  make 
them  conceive,  that  a  negied  of  their  duty  is  only  talhng 
fliort  of  a  degree  of  honor  and  advantage,  which,for  the  grati- 
fication of  their  pafiions,  they  are  very  willing  to  relinquiHi. 
Many  parents  are  much  more  ready  to  tell  their  children 
fuch  or  fuch  a  thing  is  mean,  and  not  like  a  gentleman, 
than  to  warn  them  that  they  will  thereby  incur  the  dif- 
pleafure  of  their  Maker.  But  when  the  pradices  are 
really  and  deeply  criminal,  as  in  fwearing  and  lying,  it 
is  quite  improper  to  reft  the  matter  there.  I  admit  that 
they  are  both  mean,  and  that  juflice  ought  to  be  done  to 
them  in  this  refped,  but  I  contend  it  that  Ihould  only  be 
a  fecondary  confideration. 

Let  not  human  reafonings  be  put  in  the  balance  with 
divine  wifdom.  The  care  of  our  fouls  is  reprefented  in 
fcripture  as  the  one  thing  needful.  He  makes  a  mifera- 
ble  bargain,  who  gains  the  whole  world  and  lofer;  his 
own  foul.  It  is  not  the  native  beauty  of  virtue,  or  the 
outward  credit  of  it,  or  the  inward  fatisfaction  arifing^ 
from  it,  or  even  all  thefe  combined  together,  that  Vvill  be 
fulficient  to  change  our  natures  and  govern  our  concludt ; 
but  a  deep  conviction,  that  unlefs  we  are  reconciled  to 
God,  we  Ihall  v*  ithout  doubt  periih  everlaftingly. 

You  will  fay,  this  is  very  true  and  very  fit  for  a  pulpit 
— but  what  is  that  clafs  of  adlions  that  lliould  imprefs  it 
habitually  on  the  minds  of  children  ?  perhaps  you  will 
even  fay,  what  one  a6lion  will  any  good  man  be  guilty 
ot^ — much  more  habitual  condu6l — that  can  tend  to  weak- 
en their  belief  of  it !  This  is  the  very  point  which  I 
mean  to  explain.  It  is  certainly  pollible  that  a  man  may 
at  itated  ti\Ties  give  out  that  he  looks  upon  religion  to  be 
abfolutely  neceflary,  and  yet  his  conduct  in  many  pa.rticu- 
lars  may  have  no  tendency  to  imprefs  this  on  the  minds 
of  his  children,  if  he  fuiiers  particular  religious  duties' 
to  be  eafily  difplaced,  to  be  fijortened,  poilponed  or  omit- 
ted, upon  the  moll  tniling  accounts,  depend  upon  it,  this 


^26  Letters  on  Education. 

will  make  religion  in  general  feem  lefs  neceflary,  to  thofe 
who  obferve  it.  If  an  unpleafant  day  will  keep  a  man 
from  public  worihip,  when  perhaps  a  hmTicane  will  not 
keep  him  from  an  election  meeting — if  he  choofes  to  take 
phyfic,  or  give  it  to  his  children  on  the  Lord's  day,  when 
it  coiild  be  done  with  equal  eafe  on  the  day  before  or  af- 
ter— if  he  will  more  readil}^  allow  his  fervants  to  pay  a 
vifit  to  their  friends  on  that  day  than  any  other,  though 
h^  has  reaibn  to  believe  they  will  fpend  it  in  junketing 
and  idlenefs — it  will  not  be  eafy  to  avoid  fufpecling  that 
worldly  advantage  is  what  determines  his  choice. 

Take  an  exan^ple  or  two  more  on  this  head.  Suppo- 
fmg  a  man  ufually  to  worflilp  God  in  his  family ;  if  he 
fometimes  omits  it — if  he  allow  every  little  bufmefs  to 
interfere  with  it — if  company  will  make  him  diipenfe 
with  it,  or  Ihift  it  from  its  proper  I'eafon — believe  me,  the 
idea  of  religion  being  every  man's  firll  and  great  concern, 
it  is  in  a  good  meafure  weakened,  if  not  wholly  loft.  It 
is  a  very  nice  thing  in  religion  to  know  the  real  connec- 
tion between,  and  the  proper  mixture  of  fpirit  and  form. 
The  form  without  the  fpirit  is  good  for  nothing  ;  but  on 
the  other  hand,  the  fpirit  without  the  form,  never  yet  ex- 
ifted.  I  am  of  opinion,  that  punclual  and  even  fcrupu- 
ious  regularity  in  all  thofe  duties  that  occur  periodically, 
is  the  way  to  make  them  eafy  and  pleafant  to  thole  who 
attend  them.  They  alfo  become,  like  all  other  habits,  in 
Ibme  degree  neceifary  ;  fo  that  thofe  who  have  been  long 
accultomed  to  them,  feel  an  uneaiinefs  in  families  where 
they  are  generally  or  frequently  negleded.  I  cannot  help 
alfo  mentioning  to  you,  the  great  danger  of  paying  and 
receiving  vifits  on  the  Lord's  day,  unlefs  when  it  is  abfo- 
lutely  neceifdry.  it  is  a  matter  not  merely  difficult,  but 
wholly  impracticable,  in  fuch  cafes,  to  guard  efledlually 
againll  improper  fubjeds  of  converfation.  Nor  is  this  all, 
iov  let  the  converfation  be  what  it  will,  I  contend  that  the 
duties  of  the  family  and  the  clofet  are  fully  fufficient  to 
employ  the  whole  time  ;  which  mull  therefore  be  wafted 
or  milapplied  by  the  intercourfe  of  ftrangers. 

I  only  further  obferve,  that  I  know  no  circumftance 
from  wiiich  your  opinion  oi  the  neceflity  of  religion  wiU 


Letters  on  Education,  527 

appear  with  the  greater  clearnefs,  or  carry  it  in  greater 
force,  than  your  behavior  towards  and  treatment  of  your 
children  in  time  of  dangerous  ficknefs.  Certainly  there 
is  no  time  in  their  whole  lives  when  the  neceflity  appears 
more  urgent,  or  the  opportunity  more  favorable,  for  im- 
preffing  their  minds  with  a  fenfe  of  the  things  that  belong 
to  their  peace.  What  liiall  Vv^e  fay  then  of  thofe  parents, 
who,  through  fear  of  alarming  their  minds,  and  augment- 
ing their  diforder,  will  jiot  fulTcr  any  mention  to  be  made 
to  them  of  the  approach  of  death,  or  the  importance  of 
eternity  ?  I  will  relate  to  you  an  example  ol"  this.  A 
young  gentleman  of  eftate  in  my  parifh,  was  taken  ill  of 
a  dangerous  fever  in  a  friend's  houfe  at  a  diitance.  I 
vv^ent  to  fee  him  in  his  illnefs,  and  his  mother,  a  widow 
lady,  intreated  me  not  to  fay  any  thing  alarnving  to  him, 
and  not  to  pray  with  him,  but  to  go  to  prayer  in  another 
room,  wherein  ihe  wifely  obferved,  it  would  have  the  fame 
effedl.  The  young  man  himfelf  foon  found  that  I  did  not 
a(^t  as  he  had  expeded,  and  was  fo  impatient  that  it  be- 
came neceflary  to  give  him  the  true  reafon.  On  this  he 
infilled,  in  the  mod  pofitive  manner,  that  all  rellridlion 
fliould  be  taken  off,  which  was  done.  What  was  the  con- 
fec]uence  ?  He  was  exceedingly  pleafed  and  compofed  ; 
and  if  this  circumftance  did  not  haften,  it  certainly  nei- 
ther hindered  nor  retarded  his  recovery. 

Be  pleafed  to  remark,  that  the  young  gentleman  here 
fpoken  of,  neither  was  at  that  time,  nor  is  yet,  fo  far  as  I 
am  able  to  judge,  truly  religious  ;  and  therefore  I  have 
formed  a  fixed  opinion,  that  in  this,  as  in  many  other  in- 
flances,  the  wifdom  of  man  difappoints  itfelf.  Pious  ad- 
vice and  confolation,  if  but  tolerably  adminiftered  in  fick- 
nefs, are  not  onl}^  ufeful  to  the  foul,  but  ferve  particularly 
to  calm  an  agitated  mind,  to  bring  the  animal  ipirlts  to  an 
eafy  flow,  and  the  whole  frame  into  fuch  a  ftate  as  will  beii: 
favor  the  operation  of  medicine,  or  the  efforts  of  the  con- 
ilitution,  to  throw  oil'  or  conquer  the  dlfeafe. 

Sufler  me  to  wander  a  little  from  my  fubject,  by  obferv- 
ing  to  you,  that  as  I  do  not  think  the  great  are  to  be  much 
envied  for  any  thing,  fo  they  are  truly  and  heartily  to  be 
pitied  for  the  deception  that  is  ufually  put  upon  them  by 


528  Letters  on  Education, 

flattery  and  falfe  tendernefs.  Many  of  them  are  brought 
up  with  fo  much  dehcacy,  that  they  are  never  fuffered  to 
fee  any  miferable  or  affli6ting  objeft,  nor,  fo  far  as  can  be 
hindered,  to  hear  any  afFeding  Itory  of  diilrefs.  if  they 
themfelves  are  fick,  how  many  abfurd  and  palpable  lies 
are  told  them  by  their  friends  ?  and  as  for  phyficians  I 
may  fafely  fay,  few  of  them  are  much  confcience  bound 
in  this  matter.  Nov/,  let  the  fuccefs  of  thefe  meafures 
be  what  it  will,  the  only  fruit  to  be  reaped  from  them  is 
to  make  a  poor  dying  fmner  miftake  his  or  her  condi- 
tion, and  vainly  dream  of  earthly  happinefs,  while  haf- 
tening  to  the  pit  of  perdition.  But,  as  I  faid  before, 
men  are  often  taken  in  their  own  craftinefs.  It  often- 
times happenvS  that'  fuch  perfons,  by  an  ignorant  fervant, 
or  ofHcious  neighbor,  or  fome  unlucky  accident,  make  a 
fudden  difcovery  of  their  true  fituation,  and  the  fhock  fre- 
quently proves  fatal. — Oh !  how  much  more  defirable  is 
it — how  much  more  like  the  reafon  of  men,  as  well  as 
the  faith  of  chrillians — to  confider  and  prepare  for  what 
mufl:  inevitably  come  to  pafs  ?  I  cannot  eafily  conceive 
any  thing  more  truly  noble,  than  for  a  perfon  in  health 
and  vigor,  in  honor  and  opulence,  by  voluntary  reflec- 
tion to  fympathize  with  others  in  diilrefs  ;  and  by  a  well 
founded  confidence  in  divine  mercy,  to  obtain  the  viQory 
over  the  fear  of  death. 

2.  You  ought  to  live  fo  as  to  make  religion  appear  re- 
fpe£table.  Religion  is  a  venerable  thing  in  itfelf,  and  it 
fpreads  an  air  of  dignity  over  a  perfon's  whole  deportment. 
1  have  feen  a  common  tradefman,  merely  becaufe  he  was 
<i  man  of  true  piety  and  undeniable  worth,  treated  by  his 
children,  apprentices  and  fervants,  with  a  much  greater 
degree  of  deference  and  fubmiffion,  than  is  commonly 
given  to  men  of  fuperior  Ilation,  without  that  charadler* 
Many  of  the  fame  meannefles  are  avoided,  by  a  gentle- 
man from  a  principle  of  honor,  and  by  a  good  man  from 
a  principle  of  confcience.  The  firll  keeps  out  of  the 
company  of  common  people,  becaufe  they  are  below  him 
—  the  lail  is  cautious  ot  mixing  with  them,  becaufe  of 
that  levity  and  profanity  that  is  to  be  expelled  from  them« 
If,  then,  religion  is  really  venerable  when  fmcere,  a  re- 


Letters  en  Education,  529 

fpedlable  condu6l  ought  to  be  maintained,  as  a  proof  of 
your  own  integrity,  as  well  as  to  recommend  it  to  your  chil- 
dren. To  this  add,  if  you  pleafe,  that  as  reverence  is  the 
peculiar  duty  of  children  to  their  parents,  any  thing  that 
tends  to  leflen  it  is  more  deeply  felt  by  them  than  by  others 
who  obferve  it.  When  I  have  feen  a  parent,  in  the  pre- 
fence  of  his  child,  meanly  wrangling  with  his  fervant,  tell- 
ing extravagant  flories,  or  otherwife  expofmg  his  vanity, 
credulity  or  folly,  I  have  felt  juft  the  fame  proportion  of 
fympathy  and  tendernefs  for  the  one,  that  I  did  of  con- 
tempt or  indignation  at  the  other. 

What  has  been  faid,  will,  in  part,  explain  the  errors 
which  a  parent  ought  to  fhun,  and  what  circumftances  he 
ought  to  attend  to,  that  religion  may  appear  refpe^lable. 
All  meannefles,  whether  of  fentiment,  converfation,  drefs, 
manners,  or  employment,  are  carefully  to  be  avoided. 
You  will  apply  this  properly  to  yourfelf.  I  may,  how- 
ever, juft  mention,  that  there  is  a  confiderable  difference 
in  all  thefe  particulars,  according  to  men's  different  Ra- 
tions. The  fame  adlions  are  mean  in  one  ftation,  that 
are  not  fo  in  another.  The  thing  itfelf,  however,  ftill  re- 
mains ;  as  there  is  an  order  and  cleanlinefs  at  the  table  of 
tradefmen,  that  is  different  from  the  elegance  of  a  gentle- 
man's, or  the  fumptuoufnefs  of  a  prince's  or  nobleman's. 
But  to  make  the  matter  ftill  plainer  by  particular  exam- 
ples. I  look  upon  talkativenefs  and  vanity  to  be  among 
the  greateft  enemies  to  dignity.  It  is  needlefs  to  fay  how 
much  vanity  is  contrary  to  true  religion  ;  and  as  to  the 
other,  which  may  feem  rather  an  infirmity  than  a  fm,  v/e 
are  exprefsly  cautioned  againft  it,  and  commanded  to  be 
fwift  to  hear,  and  flow  to  fpeak.  Sudden  anger,  too,  and 
loud  clamorous  fcolding,  are  at  once  contrary  to  piety  and 
dignity.  Parents  ihould,  therefore,  acquire  as  much  as 
poffible,  a  compofure  of  fpirit,  and  meeknefs  of  languao;e  ; 
nor  are  there  many  circumftances  that  will  more  recom- 
mend religion  to  children,  when  they  fee  that  this  felf 
command  is  the  effedl  of  principle,  and  a  fenfe  of  duty. 

There  is  a  weaknefs  I  have  obferved  in  many  parents, 
to  (liow  a  partial  fondnefs  for  fome  of  their  children,  to 
the  neglccl,  and  in  many  cafes  approaching  to  a  jealoufy 

Vol.  lil.  '^  X 


^^o  Inciters  oh  Education. 

or  hatred  of  others.  Sometimes  we  fee  a  mother  difcover 
ail  excellwe  partiality  to  a  handfome  daughter,  in  compa- 
rilon  of  thofe  that  are  more  homely  in  their  figure.  This, 
is  a  bai'barity,  which  would  be  truly  incredible,  did  not 
experience  prove  that  it  really  exifts.  One  would  think 
they  lliould  rather  be  excited  by  natural  aire<5lion,  to  give 
all  poffible  encouragement  to  thofe  who  labor  under  a  dif- 
advantage,  and  beiiow  every  attainable  accomplilhment  to 
balance  the  defects  of  outward  form.  At  other  times  we 
fee  a  partiality  which  cannot  be  accounted  for  at  all,  where 
the  molt  ugly,  peevifh,  froward  child  of  the  v/hole  family, 
is  the  favorite  of  both  parents.  Reafon  ought  to  counter- 
a(5l  thefe  errors  ;  but  piety  ought  to  extirpate  them  en- 
tirely. I  do  not  fl:ay  to  mention  the  bad  elFecls  that  flow 
from  them,  my  purpofe  being  only  to  ihow  the  excellence 
of  that  character  wiiich  is  exempted  from  them. 

The  real  dignity  of  religion  will  alfo  appear  in  the  con- 
duct of  a  good  man  towards  his  fervants.  It  will  point 
out  the  true  and  proper  dilUn£li,on  between  condefcenfion 
•and  meannes.  Humility  is  the  very  fpirit  of  the  gofpeL 
Tiierelore,  hear  your  fervants  with  patience,  examine 
their  condu6l  with  candor,  treat  them  with  all  the  huma- 
nity and  gentlenefs  that  is  confident  with  unremitted  au- 
thority :  when  they  are  fick,  vifitthem  in  perfon,  provide 
remedies  for  them,  fympathize  with  them,  and  Ihow 
them  tiiat  you  do  fo ;  take  care  of  their  interefts; 
aiHil  them  with  your  counfel  and  influence  to  obtain  what 
is  their  right.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  never  make  your- 
felf  their  proper  companion  :  do  not  feem  to  tafte  their  fo- 
ciety  ;  do  not  hear  their  jokes,  or  aik  their  news,  or  tell 
them  yours.  Believe  me,  this  will  never  make  you  either 
beloved  or  eileemed  by  your  fervants  themlelves  ;  and  it 
will  greatly  derogate  from  the  dignity  of  true  religion  in 
the  eyes  of  your  children.  Suffer  me  alfo  to  caution  you 
againllthat  moll:  unjuft  and  illiberal  practice,  of  exercifing 
your  wit  in  humorous  ilrokcs  upon  your  fervants,  before 
company,  or  while  they  wait  at  table.  I  do  not  know  any 
thing  fo  evidently  mean,  that  is  at  the  fame  time  fo  com- 
mon. It  is  I  think,  jult  fuch  a  cowardly  thing  as  to  beat 
a  man  who  is  bound ;  becaufc  the  fervant,  hov/ever  happy 


'  Letters  on  Education.  531 

;sl  repartee  might  occur  to  him,  is  not  at  liberty  to  an- 
■fwer,  but  at  the  rifle  of  having  his  bones  broken.  In 
this,  as  in  many  other  particulars,  reafon,  refinement,  and 
iibcral  manners,  teach  exactly  the  fame  thing  with  reli- 
gion, and  I  am  happy  in  being  able  to  add,  that  religion 
is  generally  the  mod  powerful,  as  w^ell  as  the  mofl  uni- 
form  principle  of  decent  conduct. 

I  fhall  have  done  with  this  particular,  when  I  have  ob- 
ferved,  that  thofe  w^ho  are  engaged  in  public,  or  what  I 
may  call  political  life,  have  an  excellent  opportunity  of 
making  religion  appear  truly  refpe^lable.  What  I  inean 
is,  by  fhowing  themfelves  firm  and  incorruptible,  in  fup- 
porting  thofe  meafures  that  appear  bed  calculated  for  pro- 
moting the  intereft  of  religion,  and  the  good  of  mankind. 
In  all  thefe  cafes,  I  admire  that  man  who  has  principles, 
whofe  principles  are  known,  and  Vv^hom  every  body  def- 
pairs  of  being  able  to  feduce,  or  bring  over  to  the  oppo- 
fite  intereft,  I  do  not  commend  furious  and  intemperate 
zeal.  Stcadinefs  is  a  much  better,  and  quite  a  different 
thing.  I  would  contend  with  any  man  v/ho  iliould  fpeak 
mofl:  calmly,  but  I  would  alfo  contend  with  him  who 
iliould  act  mod  firmly.  As  for  your  placebo's,  your  pru- 
dent, courtly,  compliant  gentlemen,  whofe  vote  in  aflem- 
bly  will  tell  you  where  they  dined  the  day  before,  I  hold 
them  very  cheap  indeed,  as  you  very  well  know.  I  do 
not  enter  further  into  this  argument,  but  conclude  at  this 
time,  by  obferving,  that  public  meafures  are  always  em- 
braced under  pretence  of  principle  ;  and  therefore  an  uni- 
form uncorrupted  public  chara6ler  is  one  of  the  be  ft  evi- 
dences of  real  principle.  The  free  thinking  gentry  tell 
US,  upon  this  fubjedl,  that  "  every  man  has  his  price.'* 
It  lies  out  of  my  way  to  attempt  refuting  them  at  prefent, 
but  it  is  to  be  hoped  there  are  many  whofe  price  is  far 
above  their  reach.  If  fome  of  my  near  relations,  who 
took  fo  much  pains  to  attach  me  to  the  intereft  of  evange- 
lical truth,  had  been  governed  by  court  influence  in  their 
political  condu6l,  it  had  not  been  in  my  pcv/er  to  have 
eileemed  their  characters,  or  perhaps  to  have  adhered  to 
their  inftrudt^ons.  But  as  things  now  (land,  I  have  clone 
both  from  the  beginning,  and  I  hope  God  will  enable  me 
by  his  grace,  to  continue  to  do  fo  to  the  end  of  liie. 


[  533  ] 


«eo9  0000  0C08  OMO  woo  0000  oooo  0000  eoo©  eooo  oooo  ooco  oooo  oop  Joci  oooo  ocoa  ocoo  ooos  eooo  eooo  oooo  oooo  oooo  xwa 

eOOO  0000  0000  0000  OOOC  0000  0000  0000  tOOO  too*  OeOO  0000  eO0»  OTOO  C«K»  e«03  COOO  flOOO  9000  aOOO  0300  COM  ^^ 


A  N 


ESSAY 


O  N 


MONEY. 


As  a  medium  of  commerce  ;  ivitb  remarks  on  the  acU 
vantages  and  disadi)  ant  ages  of  paper  admitted  into 
general  circulation. 


FROM  every  channel  of  public  intelligence  we  learn, 
that  there  is  a  difpofition  in  many  of  the  legiflatures 
of  this  country,  to  emit  bills   of  credit  by   authority   of 
government,  and  to  make  them  in  fome  meafure  at  lead, 
or  in  fome  cafes,  a  legal  tender  for  debts  already  contra6t- 
ed.     This  is  a  matter  of  great  delicacy  and  danger.     It 
has  occafioned  a  controverfial  difcuflion  of  the  fubje(ft  in 
pamphlets  and  periodical  publications.     A  few  plaufible 
things,  and  but  a  few  that  deferve  that  character,  have 
been   publiflied   in    defence    of  the   meafure.      Many 
flirewd  and  fcnfible  things  have  been  offered  againll  it : 
but  even  thefe  lafthave  not  been  fo  connected  and  fatisfy- 
ing,  as  they  might  and  ought  to  have  been.     Some  of  the 
pieces  have  been  verbofe  and  declamatory,  with  many  re- 
petitions ;  others  have  been  full  of  antithefes,  quaint  fay- 
ings,  and  witticifms,  which  have  no  great  tendency   to 


534  Essay  on  Money, 

convince  or  perfuade  ;  and  fome  have  been  mingled  with 
the  local  and  party  politics  of  particular  flates.  Per- 
haps thefe  different  ways  of  writing  may  be  very  proper 
for  feveral  claffes  of  readers,  and  have  a  good  efFe£l ;  but 
there  are  certainly  others  who  would  require  a  different 
treatment,  becaufe  their  miflakes  are  owing  not  to  de- 
ceitful intentions,  but  to  erroneous  judgment.  This  has 
given  me  a  ilrong  defire  to  try  what  can  be  done  upon 
the  fubje6l  by  difpaffionate  reafoning.  By  this  I  mean, 
endeavoring  to  carry  the  matter  back  to  its  firft  princi- 
ples, to  explain  them  in  fo  fimple  a  manner,  as  that  the 
unlearned  may  underlland  them ;  and  then  to  deduce 
the  practical  confequences  with  the  general  theory  full  in 
view. 

It  is  impoflible  to  reach  my  purpofe,  without  faying 
many  things  which  in  a  feparate  and  detached  manner 
have  been  faid  by  others  ;  but  this  mufl  be  forgiven  me  ; 
becaufe  I  mean  to  lay  the  whole  fyftem  before  the  reader, 
and  every  part  in  its  proper  order  and  connedlion.  Let 
us  then  begin  by  confidering  what  gave  rife  to  money, 
and  v/hat  is  its  nature  and  ufe  ?  If  there  were  but  one 
man  upon  the  earth,  he  would  be  obliged  to  prepare  a 
hut  for  his  habitation,  to  dig  roots  for  his  fuflenance,  to 
provide  fkins  or  fig-leaves  for  his  covering,  &c.  in  fhort, 
to  do  every  thing  for  himfelf.  If  but  one  or  two  more 
were  joined  with  him,  it  would  foon  be  found  that  one  of 
the  in  Vy'ould  be  more  flcilful  in  one  fort  of  work,  and 
another  in  a  different ;  fo  that  common  interefl  would 
dire(5l  them,  each  to  apply  his  induftry  to  what  he  could 
do  bed  and  foonefl ;  to  communicate  the  furplus  of  what 
he  needed  himfelf  of  tliat  fort  of  work  to  the  others, 
and  receive  of  their  furplus  in  return.  This  dire6lly 
points  out  to  us,  that  a  barter  of  commodities,  or  com- 
munication of  the  fruits  of  induftry,  is  the  firfl  principle, 
or  rather  indeed  conllitutes  the  effence  of  commerce. 
As  fociety  increafes,  the  partition  of  employments  is 
?2,reatly  diverfified  ;  but  flill  the  fruits  of  well  direQed  in- 
duftry,  or  the  things  necefTary  and  ufeful  in  life,  are  what 
only  can  be  called  wealth. 


Essay  on  Money.  5^5 

In  eftablifhing  a  mutual  exchange  of  thefe,  the  firft 
thing  neceflary  is  a  ftandard  of  computation,  or  common 
meafure,  by  which  to  eftimate  the  feveral  commodities 
that  may  be  offered  to  fale,  or  may  be  deftred  by  purchafers. 
Without  this  it  is  eafy  to  fee,  that  the  barter  of  commo- 
dities is  liable  to  very  great  difficulties,  and  very  great  er- 
rors. This  ftandard  or  common  meafure  muft  be  fome- 
thing  that  is  well  known  to  both  parties,  and  of  general 
or  common  ufe.  As  the  firft  eifays  in  any  thing  are  ge- 
nerally rude  and  imperfedl ;  fo  I  think  it  appears  from 
the  monuments  of  remote  antiquity,  that  in  the  early  ftages 
of  fociety,  cattle  were  the  iirft  things  made  ufe  of  as  a 
ftandard  *.  But  it  would  foon  appear  that  this  was  a 
moil  inaccurate  m.eafure  ;  becaufe  one  ox  might  be  as 
good  as  two,  from  fize,  fatnefs,  or  other  circumftances. 
Therefore  in  place  of  this  fucceeded  meafures  both  of  diy 
and  liquid,  that  is,  corn,  wine,  and  oil.  The  firft  of 
thefe  was  of  all  others  the  m.oft  proper  ftandard,  becaiife 
univerfally  neceflary,  and  liable  to  little  variation.  Men^ 
upon  an  average,  would  probably  eat  nearly  the  fame 
quantity  in  the  moft  diftant  ages  and  countries.  It  feems 
to  me,  that  this  circumftance  of  a  ftandard  of  computa- 
tion being  neceflary  in  commerce,  and  the  firft  thing  ne- 
ceflary, has  been  in  a  great  meafure  overlooked  by  moil: 
writers  on  money,  or  rather  it  has  been  confounded  with 
the  ftandard  value  of  the  fign,  although  efl'entially  different 
from  it  •,  and  the  equivocal  ufe  of  the  terms  has  ccca- 
fioned  great  confufion.  I  muft  however  obferve,  not  only 
that  this  muft  neceflarily  be  taken  in,  but  that  if  vv^e  con- 
fine ourfeives  to  a  ftandard  of  computation  only,  fome 
known  commodity,  as  meafured  grain,  is  better,  and  more 
intelligible  and  unalterable  than  any  money  whatever,, 
that  either  has  been  or  will  be  made.     The  ereat  altera- 

*  Servius  Tullius,  one  of  the  Roman  kings,  is  fa:d  to  have  flrjrpcd. 
feme  pieces  v/!th  the  figure  of  cattle;  an  ox,  or  a  fheen.  This  whs 
as  much  as  to  fay,  this  piece  is  of  the  vahie  of  an  ox  or  a  Ihcep. 
Hence  it  is  faid  the  Roman  woid  pecunia,  ccraes  frrra  pecus^  cattle. 
Others  have  thought  it  Vvas  from  the  ut'e  of  leather  for  money,  qvasi 
pecundiim  corio.  But  the  firfi  etyiaology  fecms  to  be  the  bell.  See 
a  fubfcquent  note. 


536  Essay  on  Money. 

tion  in  the  value  of  gold  and  filver  is  known  to  every  per- 
fon  who  has  but  dipped  into  hiftory  ;  and  indeed  is  known 
to  many,  even  by  memory,  in  this  country,  iince  its  firft 
fettlement  *. 

But  after  a  flandard  of  computation  had  been  agreed 
upon,  in  commerce  even  of  the  moft  moderate  extent^ 
fomething  farther  would  be  abfolutely  neceffary.  The  ac- 
tual and  immediate  barter  of  commodities  could  in  few 
inllances  take  place.  A  raa,n  might  have  the  thing  that  I 
wanted  to  purchafe,  but  he  might  not  need  or  defire  what 
I  was  willing  to  give  for  it.  Another  might  want  what 
I  had  to  fpare,  but  not  have  what  I  wanted  to  purchafe 
with  it.  Befides,  bulky  or  perifhable  commodities  could 
not  be  carried  about  at  an  uncertainty,  or  with  fafety. 
Therefore,  it  became  very  early  neceffary, that  there  fhould 
be  fome  fign  or  figns  agreed  upon,  which  Ihould  reprefent 
the  abfent  commodities,  or  rather  Ihould  reprefent  the 
llandard  of  computation,  in  all  its  divifions  and  multipli- 
cations. Thefe  figns  muft  be  fuch  as  could  eafily  be  car- 
ried about,  and  therefore  could  be  readily  applied  to  every 
kind  of  tranfadioPiS,  which  were  connected  with  the 
commutation  of  property. 

Let  us  examine  the  nature  and  meaning  of  thefe  figns 
more  particularly.  They  are  of  the  nature  of  a  tally, 
that  is  to  lay,  they  are  intended  to  mark  and  afcertain  a 
fad.  Now  the  fad  is,  that  the  perfon  who  can  Ihow  thofe 
figns,  haviiig  purchafed  them  by  his  goods  or  induflry,  is 
entitled  to  receive  from  fomebody,  a  certain  value,  or  to 

*  There  are  two  eflates  licar  one  of  the  colleges  in  Scotland,  which 
were  originally  taxed  an  equal  number  of  bolls  of  grain  (a  boll  is 
about  6  bufhels)  to  that  inflitution.  In  very  remote  times,  it  pleafed 
the  proptictor  of  one  of  thefe  eftates,  with  ronfent  of  the  college, 
to  convert  the  payment  into  money,  according  to  the  then  current  va- 
lue, which  was  a  groat  or  four  pence  Pierling  for  a  boll.  At  this 
prefent  time,  the  one  of  thefe  farms  pays  the  fame  number  of  boll.?, 
that  the  other  does  of  groats  ;  which  is  about  thirty-two  for  one. 
Ihere  is  alio  faid  to  be  exifHng,  an  old  leafe  of  a  burrow  acre  near 
a  town  in  Scotland,  for  which  the  tenant  was  to  pay  a  boll  of  wheat, 
and  a  boll  of  barley,  or  if  he  did  not  bring  the  grain  between  Chrift- 
mal's  and  Candlemafs,  the  proprietor  was  not  obliged  to  accept  of  it, 
but  he  muft  pay  a  fum  which  is  now  io-f2ths  of  a  penny  fterling  for 
the  boll  of  wheat,  and  S  I2ths  for  the  boll  of  barley. 


.  Essay  on  Money.  53^ 

a  certain  ^dtiount,  which  they  fpecify,  of  the  ilandard  of 
compr;ii\tion.  They  have  always  a  reference  to  the 
ftandard  of  computation,  and  at  laft,  by  that  known  re- 
ference, the  diiHn6lion  between  them  and  the  flandard  of 
computation  is  loil,  and  they  become  a  fecondary  ilandard 
or  computation  themfelves.  Thus  a  piece  is  intended  at 
fird  to  be  of  the  value  of  a  meafure  of  grain  ;  but  at  laft 
men  come  to  make  their  bargain  by  the  number  of  pieces 
inflead  of  the  number  of  meafures ;  ufing  the  fign  for  the 
thing  llgnified.  Thus  alfo,  fometimes  at  lead,  an  ideal 
meafure,  generated  by  the  other  two,  comes  to  be  the 
ilandard  of  computation  ;  as  in  England,  the  pound  ller- 
ling  is  the  money  unit,  though  there  be  no  coin  precifely 
correfponding  to  it.  lliis  is  fufficient  to  explain  the  re- 
lation of  the  fign  to  the  Ilandard  of  computation,  and  at 
lail,  if  I  may  fpeak  fo,  its  confolidation  with  it. 

I  have  faid  above,  that  the  perfon  poflefling  the  fign  is 
entitled  to  receive  a  certain  value  from  somebody.  The 
reafon  of  this  is,  becaufe  his  debtor  is  not  the  fame  in 
every  Hate  of  things.  If  we  confider  the  fign  as  given 
from  one  individual  to  another,  it  is  of  the  nature  of  a 
promiffory  note,  and  is  a  confefTion  of  having  received  fo 
much  property.  Probably  there  were  often  fuch  figns  or 
tokens  given  in  the  infancy  of  fociety  ;  and  it  woukl  therl 
iignify,  that  if  the  feller  were  to  come  again,  at  a  vliilance 
of  time,  and  find  the  buyer  in  poiTefiion  of  fuch  goods  as 
he  wanted,  he  would  be  entitled  to  receive  the  amount  of 
the  fign  or  token  that  had  been  given  him.  Eut  the  con- 
venience of  u^mg  figns  is  fo  great,  that  it  would  immedi- 
ately occafion  their  being  made  ufe  of  by  general  con- 
fent,  exprefs  or  implied  ;  and,  at  lail,  the  matter  would 
be  taken  under  the  direQion  of  the  ruling  part  of  the  com- 
munity. In  both  cafes,  but  efpeciaily  in  this  lail,  the  fociety 
becomes  hound  to  the  perfon  who  receives  the  figns  for  his 
goods  or  induilry,  that  they  fhall  be  to  him  of  tiie  value 
that  they  Ipecify.  I  will  afterwards  ihow,  that  this  was 
not  the  firlt  but  the  lail  flep  taken  in  the  ufe  of  figns,  and 
give  the  reafons  for  it ;  but  it  is  proper  to  mention  it  now, 
when  we  are  confidering  the  nature  and  life  of  figns  in  that 
fmgle  view. 

V^oL.  III.  3  Y 


538-  Essay  on  31oney.. 

Let  it  be  obferv^ed  here,  that  as  it  was  before  faid,  if  we 
aim  at  no  more  than  a  ilandard  of  computation,  fome 
commodities  are  not  only  as  good,  but  better  than  any 
money,  fo  if  we  confine  ourfelves  to  a  fign  only  feparate 
from  a  ilandard,  many  things  that  might  be  named  are 
not  only  as  good,  but  far  better  than  either  the  ilandard 
itfelf,  or  what  we  call  money,  becaufe  they  are  much 
more  eafily  reckoned,  tranfported  and  concealed.  This, 
appears  particularly  from  the  llate  of  figns  in  modern 
times,  after  fo  mueh  experience  and  improvement  has 
taken  place.  For  if  we  can  guard  fufficiently  againft  the 
dangers  to  which  they  are  expofed;,  figns  inconceivably 
facilitate  commerce.  We  can  put  any  value  we  pleafe  in 
an  obligation  written  on  a  few  inches  of  paper,  and  can 
fend  it  over  the  world  itfelf  at  very  little  expence,  and 
conceal  it  fo  eafily  that  there  lliall  be  no  danger  of  its  be- 
ing taken  from.  us. 

But  it  muft  have  appeared,  and  did  fpeedily  appear, 
that  all  mere  figns  labor  under  an  eflential  defeat.  They 
depend  ultimately  on  the  faith  or  credit  of  the  perfons 
xx^mg  or  anfwerable  for  them.  Now,  whether  thefe  be  in- 
dividuals or  the  multitude  by  general  cuflom  and  implied 
confent,  or  even  the  ruling  part  of  the  fociety,  there  is 
very  great  uncertainty.  Therefore  fomething  farther  is 
necelTary  to  make  a  complete  fymbol  or  medium  of  gene- 
ral commerce,  and  that  is,  a  pledge  or  flandard  of  value 
that  may  be  a  fecurity  or  equivalent  for  the  thing  given 
for  it,  and  at  all  times  be  fufficient  to  purchafe  a  like  value 
of  any  thing  that  n.ay  be  needed  by  him  tliat  holds  it., 
An  abfent  commodity  well  known,  or  even  an  idea  well 
underilood,  may  be  a  ftandard  of  computation  and  com- 
mon meafure  ;  any  thing  almofl  whatever  may  be  a  fign,. 
though,  fince  the  art  of  writing  has  been  known,  paper 
is  the  bell,  but  both  are  elTentially  defedive  ;  there  is  want- 
ing a  value  in  the  fign,  that  fnall  give  not  only  a  promife 
or  obligation,  but  acuial  pofTeiTion  of  property  for  pro- 
perty. 

The  mentioning  of  thefe  three  diRindl  ends  to  be  ferved 
by  the  medium  of  commerce,  and  illullrating  them  fepa- 
rately,  was  not  to  convey  the  idea  that  there  were  three 
Heps  of  this  kind  taken  at  a  dillance  of  time  from  each 


Essay  on  Money,  539 

«ther,  cr  that  men  firft  continued  lonof  to  deal  in  grofs 
barter  ;  and  after  that  invented  figns,  and  were  content 
with  them  ibr  another  period ;  and  at  lad,  perfected  the 
plan,  by  getting  figns  pofTeiTed  of  real  vaUie.  On  the 
contrary,  it  was  to  Ihow  that  any  thing  ufed  as  a  medium 
of  imiverfal  or  general  commerce,  mufi:  be  able  to  ierve 
all  the  three  forementioned  purpoles  ;  and  that  if  there  is 
any  production  of  nature,  or  fabrication  of  art,  that  can 
unite  the  whole,  at  leail  as  far  as  they  are  capable  of  being 
united,  this  mufl  be  the  great  defideratum.  Now  it  .has 
been  found  in  experience,  that  the  precious  metals,  efpe- 
cially  thofe  now  called  by  that  name,  gold  and  filver,  do 
anfwer  all  the  three  ends  in  a  great  degree.  It  cannot  be 
denied  that  they  have  been  ufed  for  this  purpofe,  in  fa6b 
from  the  earliell:  times,  and  through  every  nation  in  the  o]d 
world,  and  indeed  alfo  in  the  new,  with  fuch  exception 
only  as  will  confirm  the  principles  of  the  theory.  If  any 
inan  thinks  that  this  has  happened  by  accident,  or  through 
the  whim  or  caprice  of  mankind,  as  one  would  fufpedl 
from  the  language  fometimes  ufed  in  fpeech  and  writing, 
he  is  greatly  miitaken.  No  eiTetl:  of  whim  or  accident  ever 
was  fo  uniform  or  fo  lading.  The  truth  is,  that  thefe  metals 
do  polTefs  in  a  great  degree  fuperior  to  every  thing  elfe, 
the  qualities  neceffary  for  the  purpofes   mentioned  above. 

This  will  appear  to  any  impartial  perfon  who  will  con- 
fider,  with  a  view  to  the  preceding  principles,  what  quali- 
ties a  medium  of  general  commerce  ought  to  pollefs.  It 
ought  then,  to  be  ,( I.)  valuable  ;  (2.)  rare  ;  (3.)  portable; 
(4.)  divifible  ;  (5.)  durable.  Whoever  will  examine  the 
matter  with  attention,  mufl  perceive  that  any  one  of  thefe 
qualities  being  wholly  or  greatly  wanting,  the  fyftem  would 
be  either  entirely  ruined  or  remarkably  injured.  Let  us 
examine  them  feparately. 

I.  It  mufl  be  njaluable  ;  that  is  to  fay,  it  mufl  have  an 
intrinfic  worth  in  itfelf,  in  fubllance  diflinft  from  the  form. 
By  value  or  intrinfic  worth  here,  rauil:  be  underflood  pre- 
cifely  the  fame  thing  that  gives  to  every  other  commodity 
its  commercial  value.  Do  you  afk  what  that  is  ?  I  anfwer^ 
its  being  either  neceffary  or  remarkably  ufeful  for  the  pur^ 
j5ofes  of  life  in  a  focial  flate,  or  at  lead  fuppofed  to  be  hx 


'ZAP  Essay  on  Money, 

and  therefore  the  objed  of  human  defire.  Without  this 
it  could  be  no  more  than  a  bare  fign  ;  nor  indeed  fo  ufeful 
in  this  view  as  many  other  figns.  But  we  want  fomething 
that  mud  be  not  only  a  flandard  of  computation,  but  a 
fiandard  of  value  ;  and  therefore  capable  of  being  a  pledge 
and  fecurity  to  the  holder,  for  the  property  that  he  has  ex- 
changed for  it.  It  is  likely  fome  will  fay.  What  is  the  in- 
triafic  value  of  gold  and  filver  ?  They  are  not  wealth  ;  they 
are  but  the  fign  or  reprefentatlve  of  commodities.  Super- 
ficial philofophers,  and  even  fome  men  of  good  under- 
ilanding,  not  attending  to  the  nature  of  currency,  have 
really  faid  fo.  What  is  gold,  fay  fgme,  the  value  is  all 
in  the  fancy ;  you  can  neither  eat  nor  wear  it ;  it  will 
neither  feed,  clothe  nor  warm  you.  Gold,  fay  others,  as 
to  iiitrinfic  value,  is  not  fo  good  as  iron,  which  can  be  ap- 
plied to  many  more  ufeful  purpofes.  Thefe  perfons  have 
not  attended  to  the  nature  of  commercial  value,  which  is 
in  a  compound  ratio  of  its  ufe  and  fcarcenefs.  If  iron 
were  as  rare  as  gold,  it  would  probably  be  as  valuable,  per- 
liaps  more  fo.  How  many  initances  are  there  of  things, 
which,  though  a  certain  proportion  of  them  is  not  only 
valuable,  but  indifpenfibly  neceffary  to  life  itfelf,  yet  which 
from  their  abundance,  have  no  commercial  value  a,t  all. 
Take  for  examples  air  and  water.  People  do  not  bring 
thefe  to  market,  becaufe  they  are  in  fuperabundant  plenty. 
But  let  any  circumllances  take  place  that  render  them 
rare,  and  difficult  to  be  obtained,  and  tlieir  value  immedi- 
ately rifes  above  all  computation.  What  would  one  of 
thofe  v.ho  were  ftifled  in  the  black  hole  at  Calcutta,  have 
given  to  get  but  near  a  window  for  a  little  air  ?  And  v.  hat 
will  the  crew  of  a  fliip  at  lea,  whofe  v/ater  is  nearly  ex- 
pended, give  for  a  frelh  fupply  ? 

Gold  and  filver  have  intrinfic  value  as  metals,  becaufe 
from  their  du6lility,  durability,  and  other  qualities,  they 
are  exceedingly  fit  for  doniellic  utenfds,  and  many  pur- 
pofes in  life.  This  circumllance  was  the  foundation  of 
their  ufe  as  a  medium  of  commerce,  and  was  infeparable 
from  it.  No  clearer  proof  of  this  can  be  adduced,  than 
that  in  the  earliell  times,  even  when  ufed  in  commerce, 
they  were  weighed  beibre  they  were  divided  into  fmaller 


Essay  on  Money.  541 

pieces,  and  pafied  in  tale.  They  muft  furely  then  have 
had  intrinfic  value  ;  for  their  value  was  in  proportion  to 
their  bulk  or  quantity.  This  circumftance  as  a  fign  made 
them  worfe,  but  as  a  valuable  metal  made  them  better. 
The  fame  thing  appears  as  clearly  from  the  practice  of 
modern  times.  Even  when  they  are  taken  into  the  ma- 
nagement of  the  rulers  of  fociety,  and  ftamped  under  va- 
rious denominations,  there  mull  be  an  exa6l  regard  had 
to  their  commercial  value.  The  {lamp  upon  them  is  the 
sign,  the  intrinfic  worth  of  the  metal  is  the  value.  It  is 
now  found,  and  admitted  by  every  nation,  that  they  mud: 
give  to  every  piece  that  denomination  and  value  in  legal 
currency,  that  it  bears  in  bullion  ;  and  if  any  do  other- 
wife,  there  is  neither  authority  nor  force  fufScient  to  make 
it  pafs.* 

The  author  referred  to  in  the  note  has  given  us  quota- 
tions from  three  perfons  of  name  in  the  literary  workl  in 
fupport  of  a  contrary  opinion.  The  firft  is  Dr.  Franklk), 
whom  he  makes  to  fay,  "  Gold  and  filver  are  not  intrin- 
fically  of  equal  value  with  iron  ;  a  metal  of  itfelf  capable 
of  many  more  beneficial  ufes  to  m.ankind.  Their  value 
refts  chiefly  on  the  eilimation  they  habpen  to  be  in  among 
the  generality  of  nations,  and  the  credit  given  to  the  opi- 
nion that  eilimation  will  continue  ;  otherwife  a  pound  of 
gold  would  not  be  a  real  equivalent  for  a  bufliel  of  wheat." 
The  fecond  is  Anderfon  on  National  Induftry,  wlio  fa}'S 
'•'  Money  conlidered  in  itfelf,  is  of  no  value  ;  but  in  many 
civilized  nations,  who  liave  found  hov/  convenient  it  is 
for  facilitating  the  barter  or  exchange  of  one  commodity 

*  An  author  on  this  fubjeci  in  a  pamphlet  lately  publ'dhed,  fays, 
"  Ihe  value  of  the  precious  itietals  is  however  enhanced  by  tlieir  pe- 
culiar aptitude  to  psiforni  the  office  of  an  univerfal  money  beyond 
any  real  inherent  value  they  poffefs.  This  extiinfic  value  of  gold  and 
lilver,  which  belongs  to  them  under  the  modification  of  coin  or  bnliion, 
is  totally  diftindt  from  their  inherent  value  as  a  commodity."  I  do 
not  very  well  comprehend  what  this  gentleman  means  by  the  extrin- 
fic  value  of  gold  and  filver.  Perhaps  it  is  the  damp  or  nominal  value 
affixed  to  them  by  the  ftate  ;  but  whatever  it  is,  1  will  venture  to  af- 
fure  him,  that  their  value  as  coin  is  fo  far  from  being  totally  dif- 
imCi  trom,  that  it  mull  be  precifely  tlie  fame  with,  their  vakj.e  as  a 
commodity.  •  •      . 


^42  Essay  on  Money, 

for  another,  it  has  received  an  artificial  value  ;  fo  that  ak 
though  ufelefs  in  iti'elf,  it  has  come  to  be  accepted  among 
all  civilized  nations,  as  a  token  proving  that  the  perfon 
who  is  poflefTed  of  it,  had  given  fomething  of  real  value  in 
exchange  for  it,  and  is  on  that  account  accepted  of  by  ano- 
ther in  exchange  for  fomething  that  is  of  real  utility, 
and  intrinfic  worth.*'  The  third  is  Sir  James  Stuart,  who 
fays,  *'  By  money,  I  underftand  any  commodity  which 
purely  in  itfelf  is  of  no  material  ufe  to  man,  but  which 
acquires  fudi  an  eflimation  from  his  opinion  of  it,  as  to 
become  the  univerfal  meafure  of  what  is  called  value,  and 
an  adequate  equivalent  for  any  thing  alienable."  The 
name  of  any  man  how  gi'eat  foever,  will  not  have  much 
weight  v/ith  me,  when  I  perceive  that  in  any  inltance  he 
has  miftaken  his  fubjed:.  This  I  believe  has  been  the 
cafe  with  all  the  gentlemen  juft  mentioned.  There  is  a 
conliderable  confufion  in  the  ideas  exprefied  by  the  laft- 
two  ;  but  the  thing  in  which  they  all  agree,  and  for  which 
they  are  adduced  by  this  author,  is,  that  they  feem  to  de- 
ny the  intrinfic  value  of  gold  and  filver,  and  to  impute 
the  elHmation  in  which  they  are  held,  to  accidental  opi- 
tiion.  Now  I  mufl  beg  leave  to  obferve,  as  to  the  com- 
parifon  of  the  intrinfic  worth  of  gold  and  iron,  if  it  were 
poffible  to  determine  whether,  on  fuppofition  of  iron  and 
gold  being  in  equal  quantity,  the  one  or  the  other  would 
be  the  moll  valuable,  it  would  not  be  worth  a  fmgle  ftraw 
in  the  prefen%  queftion  ;  for  if  iron  were  the  moil  valua- 
ble, it  would  in  that  cafe  be  the  money,  and  the  gold 
would  be  but  in  the  next  degree.  Accidental  opinion 
has  nothing  to  do  with  it.  It  arifes  from  the  nature  of 
things.  As  to  a  pound  of  gold  not  being,  as  to  intrinfic 
value,  equivalent  to  a  bufhel  of  wheat,  it  might  with  equal 
truth  be  affirmed,  that  to  a  man  perifhing  widi  hunger,  a 
mountain  of  gold  would  not  be  equivalent  to  half  a  pound 
of  bread.  But  is  this  any  argument  againft  the  intrinfic 
commercial  value  of  gold,  as  it  has  taken  place  fince  the 
beginning  of  the  world. 

As  to  tiie  other  two  authors,  they  feem  to  fay,  that  mo- 
jjiey  is  in  itfelf  of  no  value,  and  of  no  material  ufe  to  man. 


Essay  on  Monef,  543« 

If  by  mmey  they  mean  gold  and  filver,  the  propofition  is 
directly  faife  ;  becaufe  they  are  both  of  material  ufe  for 
the  purpofe  of  fecial  life.  But  what  has  led  them  into 
this  error  has  been  their  ab(lra6ling  the  idea,  and  taking 
money  in  the  fmgle  light  of  a  fign,  without  confidering 
it  as  a  ftandard.  Then  no  doubt,  even  gold,  while  it 
continues  in  this  form,  is  of  no  other  ufe  than  as  a  fign 
of  property.  But  how  little  is  this  to  the  purpofe  ?  For 
it  is  equally  true  of  every  other  commodity.  A  nail, 
while  it  continues  a  nail,  is  of  no  other  ufe  but  joining 
boards  together,  or  fome  funilar  purpofe,  and  can  neither 
be  lock  nor  key  ;  but  a  quantity  of  nails,  or  the  iron. 
which  they  contain,  can  be  ea.fily  converted  into  either 
the  one  or  the  other.  So  a  guinea,  while  it  continues  a 
guinea,  is  of  no  ufe  whatever,  but  as  an  inlirument  of 
commerce  \  ,but  the  gold  of  which  a  guinea  confills,  can 
eafily  be  converted  into  a  ring,  or  any  thing  wdiich  its- 
quantity  will  reach*  This  is  what  is  called,  with  perfect 
propriety,  its  intrinsic  value, 

2.  That  which  is  the  medium  of  commerce  mull  be 
rare.  It  will  not  be  neceflary  to  fay  much  upon  this,  be- 
caufe it  has  already  received  fome  illuilration  from  what 
has  gone  before.  It  may  however  be  obferved,  that 
the  medium  of  commerce  mull  not  onlv  be  fo  rare» 
as  to  bring  it  within  commercial  value  in  ordinary  cafes, 
hut  it  mull  be  much  more  rare,  than  moft  other  things^ 
that  its  value  may  be  increafed,  and  a  fmail  quantity  of 
it  may  reprefent  goods  of  confiderable  variety  and  balk. 
If  gold  and  filver  were  only  twenty  tinies  as  plentiful  as. 
they  are  at  prefent,  they  would  ftill  have  a  proper  valucv 
could  be  bought  and  fold,  and  applied  to  many  ufeful 
piirpofes,  but  they  would  be  quite  unfit  for  general  cir- 
culation. 

3.  The  circulating  medium  muil  be /JCT^^Wt'.  It  mud 
be  capable  of  being  carried  to  a  diftance  with  little  trouble 
or  expence,  and  of  paffing  from  hand  to  hand  with  eafe 
and  expedition.  This  is  one  of  the  reafons  why  it  mull 
be  rare  ;  but  it  deferves  mention  alfo  by  itfelf,  becaufe 
it  is,  poiTible  to  conceive  of  thhigs  that  may  be  both  va« 
iuable  and  rare,  and  yet  incapable  of  being  carried  about. 


544  Essay  on  Money, 

and  pafling  from  one  to  another.  Some  precious  drugs, 
and  iome  curiofities,  may  be  fo  rare  as  to  have  a  high 
value,  and  yet  may  be  quite  improper  for  circulation. 

4.  The  medium  of  commerce  mufl  be  dhisible.  It 
ought  to  be  capable  of  divifion  into  very  fmall  quantities. 
This  is  neceffary  in  order  to  anfwer  the  divifion  of  many 
commodities,  and  the  conveniency  of  perfons  of  diiFer-- 
ent  ranks.  It  is  of  fuch  importance,  that  in  the  calcu-- 
lations  of  a  complex  and  diverfified  commerce,  we  find 
divifions  and  fractional  parts  even  of  the  fmallefl:  coins  or 
denominations  of  money,  that  have  ever  yet  been  brought 
into  ufe. 

5.  Laflly,  The  medium  of  commerce  ought  to  be 
durable.  It  ought  to  have  this  quality  on  two  accounts  ; 
iirfl,  that  in  perpetually  pafling  from  hand  to  hand,  it  may 
not  be  broken  or  wafted  ;  and,  fecondly,  that  if  it  is  pre- 
ferved  or  laid  up,  as  may  be  fometimes  neceffary,  and 
often  agreeable  or  profitable,  it  may  not  be  liable  to  be 
fpeedily  corrupted  or  confumed. 

All  thefe  particulars  are  not  of  equal  moment,  and 
they  have  an  intimate  relation  one  to  another  ;  yet  each 
of  them  is  fingly  and  feparately  of  importance,  perhaps 
more  than  v/ill  be  at  firft  view  apprehended.  I  think  it 
is  alfo  plain  that  there  is  nothing  yet  known  to  mankind, 
in  which  they  are  all  fo  fully  united,  as  they  are  in  gold 
and  filver;  which  is  the  true  reafon  why  thefe  metals 
have  been  applied  as  the  inftruments  of  commerce,  fince 
the  beghming  of  the  world,  or  as  far  back  as  hiftory 
enables  us  to  penetrate*. 

*  It  has  b^en  fuggeRed  to  me  by  a  friend,  that  gold  and  filver  pof- 
fefs  another  quality  different  from  all  the  above,  which,  in  an  emi- 
nent degree,  fits  them  for  circulation  as  a  medium,  viz,  that  they 
are  equable.  The  meaning  of  this  exprelTion  is,  that  the  metal  of 
each  of  thefe  fpecies,  whzn  pure,  is  of  the  fame  finenefs  and  worth, 
and  perfeftly  fimilar,  from  whatever  different  mines,  or  from  what- 
ever dlfiant  pares  it  may  have  been  procured  ;  which,  it  is  faid,  is 
not  the  cafe  with  any  other  metal.  It  is  affirmed,  that  the  copper 
or  lead  that  comes  from  one  mine  will  be  preferable  to  that  which 
comes  from  another,  even  after  this  laft:  has  been  refined  to  as  high  a 
degree  as  is  poffible;  but  that  all  gold  and  lilver  completely  refined 
are  perfetSfly   alike,  whether  they  come  from  Afia,  x\frica,  or  Ame- 


Essay  on  Money,  545? 

Tt  will  probably  thcow  fome  light  upon  the  above  theo- 
ry, if  we  take  a  brief  view  of  the  matter,  as  it  has  taken 
place  in  fa6t  from  the  beginning  of  the  world.  This  may 
'  be  done  now  to  the  greater  advantage,  that  the  effects  of 
particular  caufcs,  and  the  events  that  will  take  place  in 
fociety  in  particular  circumilances,  have  been  fo  fully 
afcertained  by  the  experience  of  ages,  and  the  prbgrefs 
of  fcience,  that  we  are  able  to  make  a  better  ufe  of  the 
few  remains  of  ancient  hillory,  than  could  have  been 
done  by  thofe  who  lived  nearer  to  the  events  which  are 
recorded.  It  appears  then,  that  the  difcovery  and  ufe  of 
metals  was  one  of  the  earliefl  attainments  of  mankind. 
This  might  naturally  be  expedled  if  they  were  within 
reach  at  all,  becaufe  of  their  very  great  utility  in  all 
works  of  induftry,  and  indeed  for  all  the  purpofes  of  con- 
venience and  luxury.  Therefore,  I  fuppofe  this  fact  will 
not  be  doubted  :  but  it  is  a  truth  neither  fo  obvious  nor 
fo  much  known,  that  gold,  filver,  and  brafs,  or  rather 
copper,  were  the  moil  ancient  metals,  and  all  of  them 
antecedent  to  iron*.  Thefe  metals  being  applied  to  all 
the  purpofes  of  life,  came  of  courfe  to  conllitute  a  great 
part  of  the  wealth  of  the  people  of  ancient  times.  I 
have  mentioned  brafs,  becaufe  it  was  one  of  the  metals 
earliefl:  known,  and  upon  the  very  principles  above  laid 
down,  was  in  the  beginning  made  ufe  of  for  money  by 
many  ancient  nations.  Its  being  now  in  a  great  meafure 
left  out  is  an  inufl;ration  and  proof  of  what  has  been  al- 
ready faid.  It  is  left  out  for  no  other  reafon  than  its 
having   \o^  one  of  the   neceflary   qualities,  viz.  rarity. 

rica.     I  do  not  pfeteiid  to  a  certain  knowledge  of  this  ;  but   If  it  be 
true,  it  is  welt  worthy  of  being  mentioned  in  this  diiqnifition, 

*  See  upon  this  fubjed  Picfidcnt  Gcquet's  IliL^  and  Progrefs  of 
Lav/s,  Arts  and  Scietices.  He  ha::  not  only  fuiliciently  provided  the  faft, 
but  alio  airigned  the  nioR  probable  reaibn  for  it,  that  thefe  metals 
were  found  in  many  places  ^f  the  earth  almo!i  pure,  fo  as  to  need 
very  Tr.tle  art  in  rehning  ;  whercns  extracting  iron  from  the  ore  is 
neither  fo  eafy  nor  fo  obvious.  We  learn  from  Horner^  that  in  the 
wars  of  Troy,  the  v/eapons  of  war,  oftenfive  and  defenfive,  were  of 
topper  ;  and  fonie  hiflorians  tell  us  that  they  had  a  method  of  tem- 
pering or  hardening  it  fo  as  to  make  it  tolerably  fit  for  the  purpofey 
though  certainly  not  equal  to  iron  or  fteel. 

Vol.  IIL  3  Z 


54^  Essay  on  Money ^ 

That  it  was  made  ufe  of  for  money  ainongft  the  Hebrew sp 
appears  froin  many  circumilances.  We  read  of  gold^ 
filvcr  and  brafs,  brought  as  contributions  to  the  taberna- 
cle fervice  in  the  time  of  ]}iIofes,  and  to  the  building  of 
the  temple  in  David's.  That  brafs  was  made  ufe  of  as 
money  in "  the  early  times  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans^ 
appears  both  from  the  alTertions  of  hillorians,  and  from, 
the  very  languages  of  both  nations,  for  there  it  is  made 
ufe  of  to  fip^nify  money  in  general  ^..  That  it  ceafed  ta 
ferve  that  purpofe  afterwards  cannot  be  accounted  for  in 
any  other  way  than  as  above,  efpeeiaily  as  the  negledt  of 
it  has  been  j oil  as  univerfal  as  the  ufe  of  it  was  for- 
merly. 

We  are  alfo  fully  fupported  by  hiftory  in  affirm ing^ 
that  all  thefe  metals  were  at  iirlt  eftimated  and  paffed  in 
commerce  by  weight.  We  fee  that  Abraham  gave  to 
Ephron  for  the  cave  of  Machpelah,  four  hundred  fhekels 
of  filver  j- .  The  Greek  money  was  of  different  weights 
from  the  lower  forts  to  the  talent,  which  was  the  largeft. 
The  old  Roman  word  Pondo  was,  as  it  were,  the  ilandard^ 
and  the  divifions  of  it  confiituted  their  different  denomi- 
nations. From  this  we  feem  to  have  derived  the  Englifh 
word  pound.  Very  foon  however  they  came  to  have  ei- 
ther coins,  or  at  leafl  fmall  pieces  reckoned  by  number. 
Abimelech  gave  to  Abraham,  as  Sarah's  brother,  one  thou- 
fand  kefeph ;  and  Jofeph  was  fold  for  twenty  kefeph,  and 
he  gave  to  his  brother  Benjamin  three  hundted  kefeph* 

*  In  the  Roman  language,  ess  (ignifies  not  only  brafs,  but  money  in 
general,  and  from  ir.  many  other  woids  are  derived;  as,  ararhimy  the 
tveafury  :  as  alisnum^  debt ;  are  mutarey  to  buy  or  fell  for  moneyyScc. 
So  in  the  Greek  tongue,  chalkos  fignities  brai's,  achalkos^  and  achalkeiuj 
to  be  without  money,  or  poor.  Whieii  the  other  metals  came  to  be 
in  ufe  as  money,  the  words  received  the  fame  meaning  in  the  lan- 
guage, as,  Argenti  sitis — ''auri  sacra  famts^  the  dcTire  of  money* 
'J'hings  proceeded  in  a  way  perfedly  limilar  in  the  three  ancient  na- 
tions of  v.'hom  v\e  have  the  diftinctefl  accounts,  the  Hebrews,  Greeks 
y.nd  Romans.  Kahus  kcseph  zahaw^  in  Hebrew;  chalkos  arguros  ^ud 
cbrusos  in  Greek  ;  and  as  argcntum  and  auriim^  in  Latin,  are  all  ufed 
for  money  in  general. 

t  See  Genei's  xxiii.  i6.  And  Abraham  weighed  to  Ephron,  the  mo- 
ney that  he  had  laid,  in  the  prefence  of  the  Ions  of  Heth,  400  Ihekcls 
ef  iilver,  current  money  with  the  mertkant. 


Essay  on  Money,  54^ 

iis  the  word  kefeph  fignifies  filver,  they  mud  have  been 
reckoned  by  tale,  and  are  probably  very  juftly  tranflated 
pieces.  Agreeably  to  all  this,  the  time  when  the  Romans 
began  to  coin  brafs,  and  fome  hundred  years  aiterwards 
filver  and  gold,  is  diftinftly  mentioned  by  the  hiilorians'*. 
It  may  be  proper  to  obferve  Iiere,  that  fevcral  anti- 
quaries have  mentioned  that  fome  barbarous  nations  made 
ufe  of  bafer  metals,  fuch  as  lead,  tin,  iron,  and  even  lea- 
ther, fliells  and  bark  of  trees  for  money.  This  is  no  way 
contrary  to  the  above  theory,  for  fome  nations  might  in- 
deed ufe  lead,  iron  and  tin,  as  thino;s  of  value,  upon  the 
fiime  principles  as  others  ufed  gold,  .filver  and  brafs.  I 
■think  it  is  faid,  and  indeed  it  is  more  than  probable,  that 
the  nails  given  by  our  voyagers  to  the  inliabitants  of  the 
South-fea  iflands,  paifed  from  hand  to  hand  as  inilru- 
ments  of  commerce.  As  to  leather, vfuells  c:ic.  I  fuf]:)ecl 
fome  part  of  this  is  fabulous  ;  bat  if  it  did  take  place  in 
any  meafur.e,  it  has  been  a  rude  eifay,  ufuig  the  .fign  fepa- 
rately  from  the  ilandard,  and  could  not.be  of  any  great 
extent  or  long  duration.  We  know  indeed  of  one  nation, 
after  fociety  had  been  far  advanced,  that  made  ufe  of  iron, 
even  when -very  plentiful,  for  money,  viz.  the  Lacedemo- 
nians. But  this  was  not  at 'all  from,  rudenefs  or  igno- 
rance ;  it  was  one  of  Lycurgus's  extraordinary  inllitu- 
tions,  w^ho  intended  by  it  ^(and  did  not  conceal  his  inten- 
tion) to  banifh  riches,  or  real  and  proper  money  from  the 
Hate.  He  indeed  banilhed  induftry  at  the  fame  time,  for 
none  of  his  citizens  were  allowed  ev^en  to  be  huflmndmen, 
or  to  cultivate  their  lands.  This  was  left  to  the  flaves. 
I  do  not  fmd,  therefore,  that  there  is  any  thing  in  hiflory 
defervijig  credit,  that  militates  againll  the  theory  above 
daid  down. 


*  Wchave  the  exprefs  tefliinony  of  Pliny  upon  this  fubjec^,  lib.  2,1- 
■€'\n,  3.  "  Servius  rex  primus  fignavit  jcs.  /Vncea  rudi  ulbs  Romje 
Timoeus  tradit.  Slgnatum  eQ  nota  peciidum  uude  et  pecunia  appel- 
lanta.  Servius  firll  coined  brafs.  Timosus  fays  they  uled  itforfnerly 
rough  or  uncoined  at  Home.  It  was  marked  with  the  figure  of  cattle, 
whence  alio  it  was  called  pecunia,"*  I'he  fame  author  tells  us,  that 
iilver  began  to  be  coined  at  Rome  in  the*  485  year  of  the  c.iy,  and 
okl  72  years  aiter. 


54^  ^-ssay  on  Money, 

Having  thus  laid  down  the  theory  of  money,  and  fup- 
ported  it  by  hiflory  and  experience,  I  proceed  to  draw  a 
few  inferences  from  it,  and  apply  them  to  fome  opinions 
which  have  taken  place,  and  fome  meafures  which  have 
been  a-dopted  or  propofed  with  refpeO:  to  currency  and 
commerce  in  this  country.  In  the  firft  place,  the  above 
theory  will  enable  every  intelligent  perfon  to  fix  in  his 
mind  precifely  what  is  or  ought  to  be  the  meaning  of  a 
circiilat'mg mediwn.  This  phrafe  is  in  every  body's  mouth, 
and  we  meet  with  it  continually  in  the  efiays  publifhed  in 
the  newfpapers,  and  the  fpeeches  of  fenators  in  public 
aifemblles.  We  may  fay  of  this  as  controverfial  divines 
ufed  to  fay  long  ago,  that  a  mifconception  of  this  is  the 
prutone  pseudos^  tlie  radical  error.  Not  long  fmce  a  writer 
in  one  of  the  papers  faid  it  was  agreed  on  all  hands  that 
there  is  at  prefent  a  fcarcity  of  a  circulating  medium. 
To  this  I  anfwer,  that  it  is  not  agreed  upon  on  any  hand, 
but  among  thofe  who  are  wholly  ignorant  of  the  meaning 
of  the  expreffion.  The  circulating  medium  is  not  yours 
nor  mine  ;  it  is  not  the  riches  of  Holland,  nor  the  poverty 
of  Sweden.  It  is  that  indefinite  cpantity  of  the  precious 
metals  that  is  made  ufe  of  among  the  nations  conne61:ed 
in  commerce.  Whether  any  particular  perfon,  city,  or 
nation,  is  rich  or  poor,  has  more  or  lefs  comparatively  of 
it,  is  nothing  to  the  purpofe.  Every  one  will  receive  of 
the  circulatino;  medium  that  quantity  which  he  is  entitled 
to  by  his  propt-rty  or  indulhy.  It  lias  been  fliown  that 
rarity  is  one  of  the  qualities  of  a  circulating  medium.  If 
it  were  more  rare  than  it  is,  a  lefs  quantity  would  be  fuf- 
ficient  to  reprefent  a  ilated  meafure  of  property.  If  it  were 
more  plentiful  than  it  is,  a  greater  quantity  would  be  ne- 
ceffary  ;  but  the  comparative  riches  or  poverty  of  nations 
or  perlbns  would  be  altogether  the  fame. 

is  any  body  ignorant  that  half  a  century  ago  in  this 
country,  a  man  might  have  bought  a  bulhel  of  wheat  for 
pne  quarter  of  a  dollar,  for  which  now  he  muft  pay  a 
whole  dollar.  Was  not  the  quarter  dollar  then  as  good  a 
circulatino:  medium  as  the  whole  dollar  is  now  ?  And  was 
not  the  man  jufl  as  rich  who  had  it  in  his  pocket  ?  Un- 
^Ipubtedly.     Nay,  I  muft  further  u\y^  it  was  a  better  cir- 


Essay  on  Money.  549 

culaling  medium,  becaiife  it  was  of  lefs  fize  and  weight. 
Has  not  the  quantity  of  the  precious  metals  increafed 
greatly  fmce  the  difcovery  of  the  mines  of  South  Ame- 
rica ?  Is  not  the  quantity  now  neceflary  for  any  confider- 
able  purchafe  fo  great  as  to  be  burdenfome  in  the  tranf- 
portation  ?  The  price  of  a  good  horfe  in  filver  would  at 
prefent  be  a  great  incumbrance  on  a  long  journey.  How 
eafy  were  it  to  point  out  places  and  countries  in  which 
there  is  a  greater  quantity  of  the  circulating  medium  than 
any  where  elfe,  and  yet  at  the  fame  time  greater  national 
and  perfonal  poverty,  and  probably  for  this  very  reafon. 
What  would  it  fignify  to  a  laborer  in  the  mines  of  Peru  if  he 
fliould  get  half  a  Johannes,  or  even  two,  for  a  day's  work, 
if  at  the  fame  time  he  could  hardly  purchafe  with  both  as 
much  provifion  as  to  keep  body  and  foul  together  ?  Are 
not  thefe  things  true  ?  Are  they  not  known  to  be  fo  ? 
What  then  mull  we  fay  of  the  extreme  ignorance  and  in- 
attention, to  fay  no  worfe,  of  thofe  perfons  who  are  con- 
tinually telling  us  that  there  is  a  want  of  circulating  me- 
dium ?  Are  not  gold  and  filver  a  circulating  medium, 
whofe  currency  is  univerfal  ?  Are  thefe  then  too  fcarce  for 
■  that  purpofe,  when  there  is  hardly  a  negro  ilave,  male  or 
female,  without  filver  buckles  in  their  flioes,  and  many 
of  them  with  rings  and  other  ornaments  of  gold,  which 
•five  hundred  years  ago  would  have  denoted  a  prince  or 
princefs  ?  Perhaps  I  have  infilled  longer  an  this  than  was 
neceflary,  but  I  have  been  induced  to  it  by  the  frequent 
complaints  upon  this  fubjecl,  and  the  abfurd  application 
of  the  phrafe,  a  circulating  medium.  More  refiedlions 
will  occur,  conne6ted  with  this  fubje^l,  in  the  fubfequent 
parts  of  my  difcourfe.  In  the  mean  time  I  will  clofe  by 
faying  to  my  reader,  you  and  I  may  be  poor  men,  the 
(late  in  which  we  live  may  be  a  poor  ftate,  we  may  want 
property,  rents,  refourees  and  credit,  but  a  circulating  me- 
dium we  want  not. 

2.  From  the  principles  above  laid  down  it  will  appear, 
that  money  having  as  one  of  its  elfential  qualities,  an  in- 
trinfic,  that  is  to  fay,  a  commercial  value,  it  mull  be  not 
only  a  fign  and  flandard  or  a  medium  of  commerce,  but 
alfo  itfelf  a  commodity,  or  a  fubjed  of  commerce.  There 


;55*  Essay  on  Money, 

are  many  tranfa6lions  refpe6ling  money  in  a  trading  na- 
tion, in  which  it  is  <:onfidered  fingly  in  this  view.  Thefc 
it  is  unnecefTary  for  me  to  enumerate,  but  even  where  it  is 
applied  dire6lly  or  principally  as  a  medium  of  alienation, 
its  value  as  a  ilandard  doth  and  muft  always  follow  and 
accommodate  itfelf  to  its  value  as  a  commodity.  Hence 
it  follows  neceflarily  that  money  muft  be  fubjedt  to  every 
Tule  that  other  commodities  are  fubjedt  to  in  buying  and 
felling.  One  of  the  chief  of  thefe  is,  that  it  mull  rife  and 
fall  in  price  according  to  the  quantity  that  is  brought  to 
market,  compared  with  the  demand  there  is  for  it.  This 
is  an  unavoidable  confequence,  and  as  neceffary  in  the 
-cafe  of  money  as  in  that  of  any  commodity  whatever. 
If  a  greater  quantity  of  money  than  before  is  brought  into 
any  country,  even  though  brought  by  the  faireft  and  mofl 
honorable  means,  viz.  increafmg  induftry  and  profitable 
trade,  it  will  have  the  effect  of  raifmg  the  price  of  other 
commodities  in  general,  and  of  induftry,  which  is 
the  fource  of  all  commodities.  But  we  muft  obferve, 
that  men  are  apt  to  view  this  in  a  wrong  light.  One 
commodity  may  rife  or  fall  by  its  own  plenty  or  fcarce- 
nefs  ;  but  when  there  is  a  great  and  general  rife  of  prices, 
-of  all  commodities,  it  would  be  at  leaft  as  proper,  or  rather 
much  more  fo,  to  fay  that  money  had  fallen,  than  that 
goods  had  rifen. 

We  had  fo  large  experience  of  this  during  the  war,  by 
the  exceflive  emiffions  of  paper  money,  that  it  needs  hard- 
ly any  illuftration.  It  is  true,  fome  perfons  did  then 
and  do  now  fuppofe,  that  the  depreciation  of  the  money 
was  owing  as  much  to  the  difaffe6lion  of  fome  inhabi- 
itants,  and  the  counterfeiting,  and  other  artful  endeavors 
of  our  enemies  to  deftroy  it,  as  to  the  increafcd  quantit}'. 
But  in  this  they  were  quite  miftaken.  Jealoufy  or  fufpi- 
cion  of  ttie  money  would  have  had  very  difterent  effefts 
from  a  gradual  and  continual  rife  of  prices.  If  I  meet 
with  a  fufpicious  piece  of  money,  I  do  not  raife  the  price 
of  my  goods,  but  refufe  to  fell  them.  This  was  indeed 
the  cafe  with  all  thofe  who  doubted  the  money  of  Con- 
grefs  in  time  of  the  war.  Befides  it  is  plain,  that  the 
American  .caiife  was  moft  doubtful,  and  its  enemies  moft 


Essay  on  Money,  55 1 

numerous  in  the  years  1776  and  1777,  and  yet  the  current 
cy  of  the  money  was  then  very  general,  and  its  deprecia- 
tion flow  ;  whereas  in  the  three  following  years,  when,  in 
gonfequencc  of  the  French  treaty  and  other  European  al- 
liances, the  confidence  of  the  public  in  the  caufe  was  in- 
creafed,  the  depreciation  was  accelerated  in  an  amazing 
degree.  I  mull  alfo  here  make  a  remark  upon  another 
opinion  often  exprefied  during  the  war,  that  the  deprecia- 
tion mufl:  have  been  owing  to  other  caufes  than  the  quan- 
tity, becaufe  it  was  greater  than  what  they  called  the  na- 
tural depreciation,  in  confequence  of  the  quantity.  By^ 
this  they  meant,  that  it  v\  as  not  regular ;  but  when  the 
quantity  had  arifen,  fuppofe  to  five  for  one,  the  deprecia- 
tion was  as  fifteen  or  twenty  for  one.  Thefe  perfons  did 
not  underfland  the  depreciation  of  a  commodity  in  confe- 
quence of  its  quantity,  for  it  is  not  regular  and  equable^ 
as  in  arithmetical  progrelTion,  but  rapid  and  increafing,  fa 
as  foon  to  get  beyond  all  computation*  If  there  is  in  any 
country  but  one  tenth  part  more  of  any  commodity  than 
there  is  any  demand  for,  the  price  will  probably  fall  more 
than  one  half  •,  and  if  there  is  double  or  treble  the  quantity 
needed,  it  will  be  what  merchants  call  a  drug,  that  cannot 
be  fold  at  all,  but  if  it  be  a  perifliable  commodity,  mufl 
fink  in  the  hand  of  the  pafTefTor. 

I  have  faid  above  that  the  increafe  of  money,  even  though 
in  confequence  of  national  profperity,  that  is  to  fay,  in- 
ternal indufiry  and  profitable  trade,  will  yet  necelfarily 
have  the  effedl  of  raifing  the  price  of  indufiiy,  and  its 
fruits.  This,  however,  mull  evidently  be  in  a  far  higher 
degree,  a,nd  attended  with  much  more  pernicious  efifedls, 
when  it  is  thrown  into  circulation  without  induflry  ;  as 
when  filver  is  found  in  capacious  mines,  or  paper  is  iflued 
by  the  authority  of  a  ftate,  without  meafure  and  without 
end.  I  verily  believe  that  if  as  many  millions  of  filver 
dollars  had  fallen  from  heaven  and  been  thrown  into  cir- 
culation  as  there  were  paper  ones  iflued  by  the  United 
States,  the  diforder  would  have  been  as  great  or  greater 
than  it  was.  At  lead  it  would  have  been  fo  at  firll,  the 
difference  would  have  been,  that  filver  being  current  over 
all,  it  would  have  foon  gone  abroad  and  found  its  level,  fo 


^^2  Essay  on  Money, 

that  the  alteration  would  have  been  ultimately  not  in  the 
United  States,  but  in  the  general  circulating  medium 
over  the  whole  earth.  Thofe  however  among  whom  it 
was  firll  found,  and  who  received  it  without  induftry, 
would  have  fufFered  moll  by  it.  Among  them  it  would 
have  produced  lazinefs  and  luxury.  Other  nations  would 
have  drained  it  from  them  only  hy  fuperior  induftry.  The 
ftate  of  the  Spanifli  monarchy  at  prefent  ought  to  be,  and 
indeed  in  a  great  meafure  has  been,  a  lelfon  to  the  whole 
world.  At  the  time  when  they  got  poireflion  of  South- 
America  they  were  the  moll  powerful  and  wealthy  Itat© 
in  ]*iUrope.  Would  any  man  at  that  time  have  been 
reckoned  found  in  his  judgment  who  lliould  have  affirmed 
that  they  would  have  grown  poor,,  by  the  means  of  the 
gold  and  filver  mines  ?  Yet  it  has  happened  fo,  and  now 
there  is  hardly  any  politician  fo  fhallow  but  he  can  aflign 
the  reafon  of  it.  They  thought  that  gold  and  filver  would 
at  once  procure  them  every  thing  without  working  ;  but 
forgot  that  the  more  they  had  of  it,  they  mull  pay  fo  much 
the  more  to  thofe  who  were  willing  to  work  for  them. 

3.  The  above  principles  will  clearly  fhow,  that  what  is 
commonly  called  paper  money,  that  is,  bills  bearing  that 
ths  perfon  holding  them  is  entitled  to  receive  a  certain 
fum  fpecified  in  them,  is  not,  properly  fpeaking,  money 
at  all.  It  is  barely  a  fign  without  being  a  pledge  or  ftand- 
ard  of  value,  and  therefore  is  efientially  defe61ive  as  a  me- 
dium of  univerfal  commerce.  I  will  afterwards  fpeak  of 
the  different  kinds  of  it,  and  point  out  their  real  and  pro- 
per ufes  ;  but  in  die  mean  thne  I  obferve,  that  to  arm 
liich  bills  with  the  authority  of  the  Hate,  and  make  them  a 
legal  tender  in  all  payments,  is  an  abfurdity  fo  great,  that 
is  not  eafy  to  fpeak  with  propriety  upon  it.  Perhaps  it 
would  give  offence  if  I  fhould  fay,  it  is  an  abfurdity  re- 
ferved  for  American  legiflatures ;  no  fuch  thing  having 
ever  been  attempted  in  the  old  countries.  It  has  been 
found,  by  the  experience  of  ages,  that  money  mud  have  a 
ilandard  of  value,  and  if  any  prince  or  Hate  debafe  the 
metal  below  the  flandard,  it  is  utterly  impofUble  to  make 
it  fucceed.  How  then  can  it  be  poffible  to  make  that  fuc- 
ceed,  which  has  no  value  at  all  ?  In  all  fuch  inllances, 


Essay  on  Money,  553^ 

thene  may  be  great  injuries  done  to  particular  perfons  by 
wiping  off  debts  ;  but  to  give  fuch  money  general  cur- 
rency is  wholly  impoflible.  The  meafure  carries  abfur- 
dity  in  its  very  face*  Why  will  you  make  a  law  to  ob- 
lige men  to  take  money  when  it  is  offered  them  ?  Are 
there  any  who  refufe  it  when  it  is  good  ?  If  it  is  neceffa- 
ry  to  force  them,  does  not  this  demonllrate  that  it  is  not 
good  ?  We  have  feen  indeed  this  fyftem  produce  a  moll 
ludicrous  inverfion  of  the  nature  of  things.  For  two  or 
three  years  we  conlfantly  fav/  and  were  informed  of 
creditors  running  away  from  their  debto's,  and  the  deb- 
tors purfuing  them  in  triumph,  and  paying  them  without 
mercy. 

Let  us  examine  this  matter  a  little  more  fully.  Money 
is  the  medium  of  commercial  tranfai^lions.  Money  is  it- 
felf  a  commodity.  Therefore  every  tranfaftion  in 
which  money  is  concerned,  by  being  given  or  promifed, 
is  ftridlly  and  properly  fpeaking,  a  bargain,  or  as  it  is 
well  called  in  common  language,  an  agreement.  To 
give,  therefore,  authority  or  nominal  value  by  law  to 
any  money,  is  interpofuig  by  law,  in  commerce,  and  is 
precifely  the  fame  thing  with  laws  regulating  the  prices 
of  commodities,  of  which,  in  their  full  extent,  We  had 
fufficient  experience  during  the  war.  Now  nothing  can 
be  more  radically  unjuft,  or  more  eminently  abfurd,  than 
laws  of  that  nature.  Among  all  civilians,  the  tranfa6ti- 
ons  of  commeree  are  rano;ed  under  the  head  of  contrails. 
Without  entering  into  the  nicer  diftinftions  of  writers 
upon  this  fubjecl,  it  isfufiicient  for  me  to  fay,  that  com- 
merce, or  buying  and  felling,  is  found  upon  that  fpecies 
of  contracts  that  is  moil  formal  and  complete.  They  are 
called  in  the  technical  language.  Onerous  contracts^ 
where  the  proper  and  juft  value  is  fuppufcd  to  be  given 
or  pro  mi  fed,  on  both  fides.  That  is  to  fay,  the  pcrfon 
who  offers  any  thing  to  fale,  does  it  becaufe  lie  has  it  to 
ipare,  and  he  thinks  it  would  be  better  for  him  to  have 
the  money,  oribme  other  commodity,  than  v;hat  he  parts 
with  ;  and  he  vv^ho  buys,  in  like  manner,  thinks  it  woukl 
be  better  for  him  to  receive  the  commodity,  than  to  re- 
tain the  money.     There   may  be  miftakes  or  fraud  in 

Vol.  III.  4  A 


554  Essay  on  31oney, 

Tnany  tranfadlions  ;  but  thefe  do  not  affe£l  the  argument 
in  the  lealh  A  fair  and  juft  value  is  always  fuppofed  or 
proieiredto  be  given  on  both  fides. 

Well !  is  it  a^rreed  that  ail  commerce  is  founded  on  a 
complete  contradl  ?  Let  then  any  perfon  who  will,  open 
as  many  books  as  he  pleafes  written  upon  the  fubjeO:, 
and  tell  me  whether  he  does  not  always  find  there  that 
one  of  the  effential  conditions  of  a  lawful  contract,  and 
indeed  the  firft  of  them,  is,  that  it  bey?^^  and  ;72t/?//j/. 
Without  this  it  may  be  fomething  elfe,  and  have  fome 
other  binding  force,  but  it  is  not  a  contra6l.  To  make 
^aws  therefore,  regulating  the  prices  of  commodities,  or 
giving  nominal  value  to  that  which  had  no  value  before  the 
law  was  made,  is  altering  the  nature  of  the  tranfadion 
a.ltogether.  Perhaps  a  comparifoii  of  thi^  with  other 
tranfaftions  of  a  different  kind  might  fet  this  matter  in 
a  clear  light.  Suppofe  a  man  were  to  fay,  to  one  of  our 
lawgivers  upon  this  fubje^t  as  follows  :  When  you  make 
a  law  laying  on  a  tax,  and  telling  me  I  muft  pay  fo  much 
to  the  public  and  common  expences  of  the  ftate,  I  under- 
lland  this  very  well.  It  falls  under  the  head  of  authori- 
ty. You  may  lay  on  an  improper  or  injudicious  tax 
that  v/ill  operate  unequally,  or  not  be  productive  of  what 
you  expert ;  but  flill  this  is  within  your  line,  and  if  I 
have  any  complaint,  I  can  only  wilh  that  at  the  next 
eledlion  we  may  get  wifer  men.  Again,  a  Juilice  of 
Peace  in  time  of  war  may  give  a  prefs- warrant,  and  take 
my  horfes  and  waggons  to  tranfport  provifions  or  baggage 
for  an  army.  I  underlland  this  alfo  ;  writers  and  rea- 
foners  tell  me  that  it  falls  under  the  head  of  what  they 
call  the  rights  of  necessity.  The  meaning  of  this  is, 
that  no  civil  conftitution  can  be  fo  perfe6l  but  that  fome 
cafes  will  occur,  in  which  the  property  of  individuals 
mufl  give  way  to  the  urgent  call  of  common  utility  or 
general  danger.  Thus  we  know,  that  in  cities,  in  cafe 
of  a  fire,  fometimes  a  houfe,  without  the  confent  of  its 
owner,  will  be  deflroyed  to  prevent  the  whole  from  being 
confumed.  But  if  you  make  a  law  that  I  fliall  be  obliged 
to  sell  vny  grain,  my  cattle,  or  any  commodity,  at  a  cer- 
tain price,  you  not  only  do  what   is  unjuli:   and    impa- 


Essay  on  Mmicy,  5?;  5 

lltic,  but  with  all  refpe6l  be  it  faid,  you  fpeak  nonfenfe  ; 
for  I  do  not  se/l  tbeni  E.t  all ;  you  take  them  from  me. 
You  are  both  buyer  and  feller,  and  I  am  the  fuflferer  only. 

I  cannot  help  obfervino^,  diat  \-a.\vs   ef  this  kind  have 
an  Inherent  weaknefs  in  them  ;  they  are  not  only  unjuil 
and  unwife,   but  for  the  mod  part  i)vipra6licable.     Tl^}'' 
are  an  attempt  to  apply  authority  to  that  which  is  not  its 
proper  obje£l,  and  to  extend  it  beyond  its  natural  bounds  ;' 
in  both  which  v/e  fliall   be  fure  to  fail.     The  produdlioii 
of  comnio4ities  muft  be  the  effe6l  ©f  induilry,  inclinati-, 
on,  hope,  , and  intereft.     The  firfi:  of  thefe   is   very  inv 
perfedtly. reached  by  authority,  and  the  other  three  cannot 
be  reached  by  it  at  all.     Perhaps  I  ought  rather  to  have 
faid,  that  they  cannot  be  direded  by  it,  but  they   may 
be  greatly  counteraQed  ;    as  people    have   naturally    a 
flrong  difpofition  to  refiR:  force,  and  to  efcape  ircmx  con- 
llraint.     Accordingly  we   found    in  this    country,    and 
every  other  fociety  who  ever  tried  fuch  meafures  found, 
that  they  produced  an  effe6l  direclly  contrary  to  what  was 
expelled  from  them.     Inftead  of  producing  moderation 
and  plenty,  they  uniformly  produced  dearnefs  and  fear- 
city.     It  is  worth  while  to  obferve,    that  fome  of  our  le- 
giflatures  faw  fo  far  into  thefe  matters  as  to  perceive   that 
they  could  not  regulate  the  price  of  commodities,  with- 
out regulating  the   price  of  the  induflry    that   produced 
them.     Therefore  they  regulated  the  price  of  day-laborers. 
This  however,    though  but  one    fpecies  of  induftiy,  was 
found  to  be  wholly  out  of  their  power. 

There  were  Ibme  inftcinces  mentioned  at  the  time  when 
thefe  meafures  were  in  vo!2;ue,.  which  fu  perncical  rea- 
foners  fuppofed  to  be  examples  of  regulating  laws  attend- 
ed with  good  efle^ls.  Thefe  were  the  regulation  of  the 
prices  of  chairs,  hackney-coaches,  and  ticket  porters  in 
cities,  public  ferries,  and  •  fome  others.  But  this  was 
'  quite  miflaking  the  nature  of  the  thing.  Thefe  i-nftances 
have  not  the  lealt  connedlion  Vvdth  law's  regulating  prices 
involuntary  commerce.  In  all  thefe  cafes  the  y)erfons 
who  are  employed  lolicit  the  privilege,  obiai-n  a  licence, 
and  come  under  voluntary  enga elements  to  aft  no  hieher 
prices;  fo  that  there  is  a:s  complete  a  free  contrad:  as  in 


^^6  Essay  on  Money. 

buylnsj  and  felling  in  open  fhops.  I  am  fo  fully  convincr 
ed  of  the  truth  and  juftice  of  the  above  principles,  that  I 
think,  were  it  proper  at  this  time,  I  could  fhow,  that  even 
in  the  moft  enlightened  nations  of  Europe  there  are  ftill 
fome  laws  fubfifting  which  work  in  direffc  oppofition  to 
the  intention  of  their  makers.  Of  this  kind  in  ge- 
neral are  the  laws  againil  forellalling  and  regrating. 
They  are  now  indeed  moll  of  them  afleep,  and  what  the 
lawyers  call  in  defuetude  ;  but  fo  far  as  they  are  execut- 
ed, they  have  the  moft  powerful  tendency  to  prevent, 
inflead  of  promoting,  full  and  reafonable  markets.  As 
an  example  of  our  own  flcill  in  that  branch,  a  law  was 
paft  in  Penniylvania  in  time  of  the  war  precifely  up- 
on that  principle.  It  ordained  that  in  all  imported  ar- 
ticles there  fliould  be  but  one  ftep  between  the  importer 
and  confumer,  and  therefore  that  none  but  thofe  who 
bought  from  the  fliip  fhould  be  allowed  to  fell  again.  I 
cite  this  inilance  by  m.emory,  but  am  certain  that  fuch 
was  the  fpirit  of  the  law.  The  makers  of  it  confidered 
that  every  hand  through  which  a  commodity  palfed  muft 
have  a  profit  upon  it,  which  would  therefore  greatly  aug- 
ment the  coft  to  the  confumer  at  laft.  But  could  anv 
thincT  in  the  world  be  more  abfurd  ?  How  could  a  fami- 
iy  at  one  hundred  miles  dilbnce  from  the  feaport  be  fup- 
plied  with  what  they  v/anted  ?  In  oppofition  to  this  prin- 
ciple it  may  be  fafely  affirmed,  that  the  more  merchants 
the  cheaper  floods,  and  that  no  carriage  is  fo  cheap,  nor 
^2^X1^  difrribution  {o  equal  or  fo  plentiful  as  that  which  is 
iTi?de  by  thofe  who  have  an  intereft  in  it,  and  expe6l  a 
profit  from  it. 

I  have  gone  into  this  detail  in  order  to  fhow  that  ten- 
der laws,  arming  paper,  or  any  thing  not  valuable  in 
itfelf  with  authority  are  dlre6lly  contrary  to  the  very  firfl 
principles  of  commerce.  This  was  certainly  fhe  more 
necefl'ary,  becaufe  many  of  the  advocates  for  fuch  laws, 
and  many  of  thofe  who  are  inftrumental  in  enabling 
them,  do  it  from  pure  ignorance,  without  any  bad  in- 
tention. It  may  probably  have  fome  effect  in  opening 
their  eyes  to  obferve,  that  no  paper  whatever  is  a  tender 
Jn  any  nation  in  Europe.     Even  the  notes  of  the  bank  of 


Essay  on  Money,  557 

England,  which  are  as  good  as  gold,  and  thofe  of  tha 
bank  of  Holland,  which  are  confiderably  better*,  are 
not  armed  with  any  fuch  fan6tion,  and  are  not  a  legal 
tender  in  the  proper  fenfe  of  that  word.  That  is  to  fay, 
though  I  fuppofe  both  of  them,  or  any  other  paper  circu- 
lating in  full  credit  may  be  a  tender  in  equity,  fo  far  as 
that  the  perfon  offering  them  without  fufpicion  of  their 
being  refufed,  could  not  be  condemned  in  any  |:?enalty  or 
forfeiture  ;  yet  if  the  perfon  who  was  to  receive  the  mo- 
ney fhoukl  fay,  I  am  going  abroad,  I  want  gold  or  fil- 
ver  ;  it  would  lie  upon  the  debtor  and  not  the  creditor  to 
go  and  get  them  exchanged.  We  may  perhaps  even  fay 
more,  viz.  that  the  coinage  of  gold  and  filver  in  any 
country  is  not  fo  much,  if  at  all  to  oblige  perfons  to  re- 
ceive it  at  a  certain  value,  as  to  afcertain  them  that  it  is 
of  the  value  ilampt  upon  it.  Without  this  ignorant  per- 
fons would  be  continually  at  a  lofs  to  know  the  finenefs 
and  the  weight  of  a  piec«  offered  to  them.  This  will 
appear  from  the  two  following  remarks.  (1)  If  by  any 
accident  in  the  coinage,  or  fraud  in  the  officers  of  the 
mint,  fome  of  the  pieces  had  not  the  full  quantity,  or 
were  not  of  fiifficient  finenefs,  though  the  llamp  were 
ever  fo  genuine,  if  I  could  difcover  the  defe6l,  I  fliould 
be  juflified  in  refufmgit.  (2)  There  is  fometimes  a  fluc- 
tuation in  the  comparative  value  of  gold  and  filver,  and 
in  thefe  cafes,  though  no  doubt  a  debtor,  till  the  error 
that  has  crept  in  be  re^lified  by  authority,  has  a  right  to 
pay  in  any  lawful  money ;  yet  if  I  were  felling  goods, 
»nd  gold  had  fallen  in  its  value,  I  might  fafely  fay  to  the 
cuftomer,  in  what  coin  are  you  to  pay  me  ?  I  will  give 
you  a  yard  of  this  filk  for  twenty-one  fterling  filver  fhil- 

*  Perhaps  it  may  be  proper  to  inform  fome  readers  what  this  ex- 
pre  {Ron  lifers  to.  It  refers  to  the  agio  of  the  hank  Holland.  A  bill  of  that 
balk  genei-ally  goes  for  a  little  more  in  payment  with  any  dealer  than 
the  fum  it  fpecifies,  and  this  advance  or  difference  is  called  the  Agio 
of  the  Bank,  and  rites  or  falls  like  the  rate  of  exchange.  This  proba- 
bly arifcs  from  its  perfect  fecnrity,  and  the  very  great  advantage  in 
point  of  eaie  and  expedition,  in  transferring,  reckoning,  and  conceal- 
ing of  paper  above  gold  and  filver.  It  gives  occafion  to  the  vulgar  fay- 
ing in  that  country.  That  money  goes  into  the  bank  but  never  comes 
out. 


^^t  Essay  on  Money. 

lings,  but  if  you  give  me  a  guinea  I  niufl:  have  another 
fnilling  before  I  will  part  with  it.  The  whole  of  this 
ferves  to  fhow  that  nothing  fliort  of  real  money,  which  is 
of  flandard  value,  ought  to  be  enforced  b}^  law  in  a  ti'^11 
regulated  fociety. 

4.  The  principles  above  laid  down  will  enable  us  to 
perceive  clearly  what  is  the  nature  of  paper  circulating 
as  a  medium  of  commerce,  what  is  its  real  and  proper 
life,  and  what  are  its  dangers  and  defe<^s.  As  to  its  na- 
ture, it  is  a  fign  but  not  a  ftandard.  It  is  properly  an 
obligation,  or  to  ufe  a  modeni  commercial  phrafe,  it  is  a 
promiffory  note.  It  is  not  money,  as  has  been  fliown 
above,  but  it  is  a  promife  of  fome  perfon  or  body  of  men 
to  pay  money  either  on  demand  or  at  a  particular  time, 
or  fome  general  undefined  future  time.  Obligations 
of  this  nature  are  of  more  forts  than  one.  Sometimes 
they  are  given  by  particular  perfons,  or  trading  compa- 
nies, v/ho  are  confidered  as  perfons  ;  and  frequently  in 
America  they  have  been  given  by  the  legiilature  of  the 
flate.  In  the  genercJ  definition  I  have  included  all  kinds 
of  negotiable  paper,  but  it  will  not  be  necefiary  to  infift 
i]}X)n  more  than  two  of  them,  viz.  the  notes  of  banking 
companies,  and  flate  emiflions.  Bills  of  exchange  are 
not  fuppofed  to  pafs  through  many  hands,  but  to  proceed 
as  fpeedily  as  may  be  to  the  place  of  their  payment.  Go- 
vernment fecurities  are  only  bought  and  fold  like  other 
property,  and  fo  any  bonds  or  other  private  obligations, 
may  be  transferred  as  often  as  people  are  willing  to  re- 
ceive them  ;  but  the  notes  of  banking  companies,  and  the 
flate  emilTions  of  this  country  are  intended  to  be,  properly 
fpeaking,  a  circulating  medium.  They  are  of  various  re- 
gular denominations,  and  intended  to  anfwer  all  the  pur- 
pofes  of  money  in  the  fmaller  tranfa6tions  of  fociety  as 
well  as  the  larger,  and  even  to.  go  to  market  for  purchaf- 
ing  the  necefikries  of  life. 

As  to  value,  fuch  obligations  muft  plainly  depend  upon 
the  credit  of  the  fubfcriber  or  obligor,  and  the  opinion  or 
expedtation  of  the  receiver.  Thefe  are  mutually  necef- 
fary  to  their  ufe  in  commerce.  Let  the  refources  or  wealth 
of  the  fubfcriber  be  what  they  may,  it  is  the  public  opi- 


'^; 


Essay  on  Money,  559 

nion  that  mull  ultimately  give  them  currency.  This  opi- 
nion,  however,  may  be  in  Ibme  inflances  better,  and  in 
fome  worfe  founded.  That  paper  which  may  with  moli 
certainty  and  expedition  be  converted  into  gold  and  fil- 
Ver,  feems  evidently  to  have  the  advantage  on  this  ac- 
count. Therefore  the  notes  of  banking  companies,  while 
they  maintain  their  credit,  and  continue  to  pay  on  de- 
mand, appear  to  be  the  bell  calculated  for  general  ufe. 
They  feem  alio  to  have  another  advantage,  that  private 
perfons  and  companies  are  upon  a  footing  with  the  hol- 
der of  the  bills.  He  can  arrell  them,  and  bring  them  to 
account,  and  have  jullice  done  upon  them ;  whereas  he 
cannot  call  the  legiflature  to  account,  but  mufl:  wholly  de- 
pend upon  their  iidelity  as  well  as  refources.  Yet  it  mull 
be  owned  there  have  not  been  wanting  inllances  formerly 
in  this  country,  in  Which  paper  emiflions  by  the  ftatefi 
have  obtained  full  coirifidence,  and  met  with  no  impedi- 
ment in  circulation.- 

Let  us  now  confider  what  is  the  proper  ufe  of  paper 
currency,  or  whether  it  be  of  any  real  ufe  at  all.  Many 
perfons  in  Europe  have  declared  againll  it  altogether  as 
pernicious.  I  will  endeavor  to  Hate  this  matter  with  all 
the  clearnefs  I  am  capable  of,  and  to  give  the  reafons  for 
what  I  Ihail  advance.     We  have  feen  above  that  nothino* 

o 

can  be  more  abfurd  than  to  fay  that  we  now  want  a  circu- 
lating medium,  and  that  paper  isneceflary  for  that  purpofe. 
A  circulating  n^edium  we  have  already,  not  in  too  fmall^ 
but  in  too  great  quantity  ;  fo  that  any  perfon  who  under- 
(lands  the  fiibjeCL  may  perceive  that  gold  and  iilver,  efpe- 
cially  the  lad,  is  lofuig  at  leall  one  of  the  qualities  necef- 
fary  for  that  purpofe,  and  becoming  too  bulky  and  heaw 
for  eafy  and  convenient  tranfportation.  Brafs,  as  has 
been  fhown  above,  was  once  as  jull  and  proper  a  medium 
of  commerce  as  gold  and  filver  are  now.  It  has  all  the 
qualities  necefiary  for  that  purpofe  itill,  except  rarity  p 
lo  that  if  it  were  not  too  plentiful  and  too  cheap,  it  would 
be  money  to  this  day.  It  is  probable  that  this  circum- 
Itance  of  the  abundance  and  weight  of  the  precious  me- 
tals is  what  ,Q;ivc3  to  many  fuch  an  inclination  for  paper 
money.     This  will  appear  ib^ange  to  fome,  yet  I  b;^ieve 


jf6o  Essay  on  Money, 

it  is  at  bottom  julL  The  cry  with  many  is,  we  muft  have 
paper  for  a  circulating  medium,  as  there  is  fuch  a  fcarcity 
of  gold  and  filver.  Is  this  jull  ?  No.  They  miftake  their 
own  poverty,  or  the  nation's  poverty,  for  a  fcarcity  of  gold 
and  filver  ;  whereas  in  fadt,  gold  and  filver  ufed  as  a  cir- 
culating medium  are  fo  cheap,  and  the  quantity  of  a  mo- 
derate fum  is  fuch  an  incumbrance  that  we  want  paper, 
which  can  be  much  more  eafily  carried,  and  much  more 
efFe(Stua]ly  concealed.  So  that,  contrary  to  the  vulgar 
idea,  wx  are  obliged  to  have  recourfe  to  paper  in  feveral 
cafes,  not  for  want  of  gold  and  filver,  but  their  too  great 
abundance. 

This  will  appear  to  be  a  very  uncouth  idea  to  many 
perfons.  What,  they  will  fay,  too  great  abundance  of 
gold  and  filver !  when  T  go  about  from  day  to  day,  and 
cannot  collect  what  is  due  to  me ;  when  my  creditors  are 
calling  upon  me  and  I  cannot  fatisfy  them.  There  is  a 
fcarcity  of  money  every  where.  What  fhall  be  faid  to 
fatisfy  thefe  perfons  ?  I  muft  tell  them  plainly.  It  is  their 
poverty,  or  the  nation's  poverty,  and  not  a  want  of  gold 
and  filver,  and  if  there  were  an  hundred  times  as  much 
gold  and  filver  in  circulation  as  there  is,  their  poverty  and 
difficulties  would  be  jufl  the  fame.  If  thefe  perfons  read 
the  fcriptures  they  may  there  learn,  that  in  Solomon's 
time  the  filver  vi-as  as  plentiful  as  stones  in  Jerusalem  ; 
probably  they  will  think  that  all  the  people  in  Jerufalem 
at  that  time  muil  have  lived  like  princes,  but  they  muft 
be  told,  that  it  was  added  as  a  neceiTary  confequence,  that 
it  was  nothing  accounted  of  in  the  days  of  Solomon, 

If  paper  is  not  then  needed  as  a  circulating  medium, 
what  benefit  arifes  from  it  ?  I  anfwer,  the  ufes  of  paper 
iubflituted  for  money  may  be  fummed  up  under  the  two 
following  heads:  (i.)  It  is  ufeful  for  facilitating  com- 
merce. (2.)  It  is  ufeful  for  anticipating  property  or  ex- 
tending credit.  Firfl:,  it  is  ufeful  for  facilitating  com- 
merce. Nothing  can  be  more  advantageous  for  that  pur- 
pofe  than  bills  of  exchange,  which,  without  the  atlual 
tranfportation  of  money  or  goods,  can  transfer  property 
e\'en  to  the  m.ofi:  diflant  places  with  the  moil  ]:)erfe6l  faci- 
lity.    There  have  been  many  perfons  who  have  doubted 


Essay  on  Money,  ^(5j 

whether  any  other  fort  of  paper  currency  is  not  upon  the 
whole  hurtful,  but  the  benefit  of  this  is  beyond  all  quefHon. 
We  fliall  afterwards  compare  the  advantages  and  difadvan- 
tages  of  paper  money  ;  but  at  prefent  let  us  leave  out  the 
confideration  of  the  evil  that  it  does,  and  it  is  manifell 
that  tiiere  is  fo  great  a  facility  and  fafety  in  the  tranfpor- 
tation  of  paper  ubove  that  of  gold  and  iilver,  that  it  rnufl 
greatly  expedite  all  mercantile  tranfacSlions,  internal  and 
external.     Suppofe  one  hundred  thoufand  pounds   were 
to  be  tranfported  but  three  hundred  miles,  if  it  were  to  be 
carried  in  filver,  what  an  immenfe  load  would  it  be  ?  But 
befides  the  weight,  as  it  could   not  be  concealed,   there 
would  be  a  very  great  rifl^  of  inviting  robbers  to  Ihare  in 
it.     Let  it  be  carefully  obferved,  that  this  good  effect  of 
paper  is  not  from  the  additional  quantity  thrown  into  cir- 
culation, but  from  its  poffeffing  fome  advantages  fuperior 
to  gold  and  filver,  provided  that  the  credit  of  it  is  fup- 
ported.     Nor  muft  it  be  forgotten,  that  it  is  in  great  and 
extenfive  negociations  only,  that  this  advantage  is  pofief- 
feffed   by   paper ;  for  in  fmaller  bargains  and  that  inter- 
courfe  between  man  and  man  that  is  carried  on  every 
hour,   it  poilefFes  no  advantage  at  all ;  on  the  contrary,  it 
is  liable  to  wear  and  wafte,  and  therefore  the  fmaller  coins 
are  in  all  refpedls  to  be  preferred. 

2.  Another  ufe  of  paper  in  commerce  is  to  extend 
credit.  Though  in  very  large  tranfa^ions  the  advantage 
of  paper  may  be  great,  as  it  facilitates  commerce  ;  yet 
when  we  confider  paper  as  generally  circulating,  and  do- 
ing the  office  of  gold  and  fdver,  it  is  by  the  exteniion  of 
credit  only,  or  chiefly,  that  it  can  be  of  any  advantage. 
It  is  unnecelTary  for  me,  and  perhaps  not  in  my  povv^er, 
to  mention  all  the  ways  in  which  credit  may  be  increafed 
or  facilitated  by  paper.  Some  will  probably  be  mention- 
ed afterwards ;  at  prefent  my  bufmefs  is  to  Ihow,  that 
giving  credit  is  one  of  the  advantages,  and  indeed  in  my 
opinion  it  is  the  principal  advantage,  to  be  derived  from 
paper  circulation  of  any  kind.  There  are  many  people 
whofe  induRry  is  damped  or  limited  by  want  of  ftock  or 
credit,  who  if  ^}ciZY  were  properly  affifted  in  thefe  refpe6ls, 
might  do  fignal  fervice  to  themfelves,  and  the  community 

Vol.  III.  4  B 


562  Essay  on  Money; 

of  which  they  are  members.  It  has  been  generally  faiclv 
and  I  believe  with  truth,  that  the  inftitution  of  the  banks* 
in  Scotland  has  improved  the  country  in  the  courfe  of 
little  more  than  half  a  century,  to  a  degree  that  is  hardly 
credible.  It  is  alfo  probable,  that  the  manufadures  and 
commerce  of  England  have  been  greatly  promoted  by  the 
eafy  and  regular  methods  of  obtaining  credit  from  the 
public  and  private  banks.  I  am  fenfible  that  fome  very 
intelligent  perfons  in  Britain  have  condemned  the  paper 
circulation  even  there,  and  affirmed  that  it  does  more 
harm  than  good.  It  is  not  necelTary  for  me  to  enter  into 
the  arguments  on  either  fide  of  that  queftion.  All  that  I 
ami  concerned  to  prove  is,  that  if  it  does  good  upon  the 
whole,  or  whatever  good  it  does  in  any  degree,  ariles  from 
the  credit  which  it  is  the  occafion  of  extending  ;  and  this 
I  think  can  hardly  be  denied.^ 

Let  us  next  confider  the  evil  that  is  done  by  paper. 
This  is  what  I  would  particularly  requefL  the  reader  to 
attend  to,  as  it  was  what  this  difcourfe  was  chiefly  intend- 
ed to  evince,  and  what  the  public  feems  but  little  aware 
of.  The  evil  is  this  :  All  paper  introduced  into  circula- 
tion, and  obtaining  credit  as  gold  and  filver,  adds  to  the 
quantity  of  the  medium,  and  thereby,  as  has  been  Ihown 
above,  increafes  the  price  of  induiby  and  its  fruits.  |  This 

*  That  1  may  ftate  the  matter  with  fairnefs  and  falnefs,  I  will 
juft  obferve,  that  the  enemies  of  paper  fay,  the  improvement  was  on- 
ly coeval  with  the  banks,  but  not  caiifed  by  them  in  whole,  nor  in 
any  great  degroe.  The  banks  happened  to  be  nearly  coeval  with  the 
revolution,  and  the  union  of  England  and  Scotland;  both  which-im- 
portant  events  are  fuppofed  to  have  been  caufes  of  insprovtment  to 
Scotland.  However,  the  experience  of  the  lafl  thirty  or  forty  years 
appears  to  be  confide rably  in  favor  of  banks  and  dealers  in  money  and 
bills,  which  I  confider  as  effentially  the  fame. 

t  This  will  perhaps  be  mlfapprehended  by  fome  readers.  Th^y 
will  fay,  a  high  price  for. our  indudry!  This  is  jufi:  v/hat  we  want, 
and  what  all  defire.  But  the  p. ice  I  mean  he»-e  is  not  the  price 
which  vou  get  for  your  induftry,  but  that  which  you  pay  fo.  it.  A  high 
price,  by  a  great  demand  from  ioreign  nations,  is  youi  profu  ;  but  the 
cofl  which  you  pay  for  fervants,  tools,  rent  of  land.  Sec.  lelfensthat  profit, 
and  it  is  this  which  is  increafed  by  increaiing  the  circidating  medium^  and 
not  the  other.  Make  asmuc.h  money  asyoupleafe,  this  will  not  make 
fcM-eign  nations  call  tor  an.y  more  of  your  grain,  liih,  lumber,  tobacco* 


Essay  on  Money,  563 

confequence  is  unavoidable,  and  follows  as  certainly  from 
good  paper  as  bad,  or  rather  more  certainly,  for  the  me- 
dium is  increafed  only  by  that  which  obtains  credit.  At 
tiie  fame  tinie  this  confequence  is  local,  becaufe  the  paper 
does  not  pafs  among  other  nations,  and  therefore  it  works 
againfl  the  interell  of  the  people  who  ufe  it,,  and  necelTa- 
rily  draws  off  iheir  gold  and  fiiver,  wliich  mufc  be  made 
ufe  of  in  all  foreign  payments.  Men  may  think  what  they 
pleafe,  but  there  is  no  contending  with  the  nature  of 
things.  Experience  has  every  where  jufiified  the  remark, 
that  wherever  paper  is  introduced  in  large  quantities,  the 
gold  and  fdver  vanillies  univerfally.  The  joint  fum  of 
gold,  filver,  and  paper  current,  will  exactly  reprefent  your 
whole  commodities,  and  the  prices  will  be  accordingly.  It 
is  therefore  as  if  you  were  to  fill  a  veiTelbrim  full,  making 
half  the  quantity  water  and  the  other  oil,  the  lafl  being 
fpecifically  lighteil,  will  be  at  the  top,  and  if  you  add 
more  water,  the  oil  only  will  run  over,  and  continue  run- 
ning till  there  is  none  left.  Kow  abfurd  and  contempti- 
ble then  is  the  reafoning  which  we  have  of  late  feen  fre- 
quently in  print,  viz.  the  gold  and  filver  is  going  away 
from  us,  therefore  we  mull  have  paper  to  fupply  its  place. 
If  the  gold  and  filver  is  indeed  going  away  from  us,  tliat 
is  to  fay,  if  the  balance  of  trade  is  much  againll  us,  the  pa- 
per medium  has  a  diredl  tendency  to  increafe  the  evil,  and 
fend  it  away  by  a  quicker  pace. 

1  have  faid,  that  this  confequence  follows  from  all  pa- 
per, as  fuch,  good  and  bad,  fo  far  as  it  enters  into  circula- 
tion ;  but  every  one  muft  perceive  that  there  is  a  peculiar 
and  indeed  a  different  evil  to  be  feared  from  paper  of  a 
doubtful  kind,  and  efpecially  from  that  which  being  doubt- 
ful, is  obliged  to  be  fupported  by  coercive  laws.  This 
mull  raife  general  fufpicion,  and  confequently  bring  on  a 
ftagnation  of  commerce,  from  univerfal  and  mutual  dif- 
truil.  For  the  fame  reafon  it  mud  annihilate  credit,  and 
make  every  cautious  perfon  lock  up  his  real  money,  that 
is,  gold  and  fdver,  as  he  cannot  tell  but  he  may  be  cheated 

rice,  &c.  but  it  will  juft  as  certainly  make  thern  coO  you  more  before 
yea  can  bniig  them  to  the  market,  hs  adding  two  to  three  v»'ill  inake 


5.64  Essay  on  Money, 

in  the  re-payment.  This  evil  is  very  extenfive  indeed,  for 
it  makes  people  fufpicious,  not  only  of  what  is,  but  what 
may  be.  Though  the  injury  Ihould  be  but  partial,  or  in- 
confiderable  at  jjrefent,  it  may  become  wholly  ruinous  by 
ibme  unknown  future  law. 

Hence  it  i^ay  be  feen,  that  the  refolution  of  the  quef- 
tFon,  vv'hether  it  is  proper  to  have  paper  money  at  ail  or 
not,  depends  entirely  upon  another,  viz.  whether  the  evil 
that  is  dene  by  augmenting  the  circulating  medium,  is  or 
is  not  over-balanced  by  the  facility  given  to  commerce,  and 
the  credit  given  to  particular  perfons,  by  which  their  in- 
duflry  a.nd  exertions  are  added  to  the  common  llock.  As 
it  is  upon  this  that  the  queftion  depends,  we  fhall  find, 
that  as  the  circumllances  of  a  nation  may  be  different,  it 
may  be  for  or  againfl:  its  intereft  to  ufe  a  paper  medium. 
If  any  nation  y/ere  in  fuch  circumflances  as  that  credit 
w^ere  either  not  neceflary  or  eafily  obtained  ;  if  the  coun- 
try were  fully  fettled,  and  the  inhabitants  fully  employed 
in  agriculture,  manufactures,  and  internal  commerce, 
with  little  foreign  trade,  any  addition  to  the  true  money, 
would  be  unneceffary  or  pernicious.  This  is  probably 
the  Hate  of  China  at  prefent,  perhaps  in  fome  degree  alfo 
of  France.  On  the  contrary,  if  a  nation  had  an  extenfive 
and  complicated  commerce,  and  much  land  to  fettle  and 
imiprove,  the  facilitating  of  commerce,  and  extending  of 
credit,  might  be  highly  beneficial.  I  do  not  pretend  to  fo 
exa(^  a  knowledge  of  the  flate  of  this  country,  or  the  diffe- 
rent parts  of  it,  as  to  judge  Vvdth  abfolute  certainty  of  v^hat 
is  neceffary  or  would  be  ufeful  to  it,  but  am  inclined  to 
think  that  there  m-ufl  be  fomething  in  the  ftate  o^  things  in 
America  that  makes  it  either  more  necelTary  or  more  ex- 
pedient to  have  paper  here  than  in  the  European  fiates. 
We  are  afTured  that  in  former  times  many  of  the  Hates, 
then  colonies,  thought  it  a  privilege  to  be  allowed  to  flrike 
paper  money  ;  and  we  are  told  by  perfons  of  good  under- 
ilanding,  that  it  contributed  to  their  growth  and  improve- 
ment, if  this  was  the  cafe,  I  am  confident  it  was  chiefly 
becaufe  it  was  emitted  in  the  way  of  a  loan-office,  and  by 
giving  credit  to  hufl)andmen,  accelerated  the  fettlement 
^nd  improvement  of  the  foil.     This  queflion  I  d  o  not 


Essay  on  Money,  56^ 

take  upon  me  to  decide,  and  therefore  In  what  follows, 
defire  1  may  be  confidered  as  fpeakiiig  only  hypothetical- 
ly,  the  rather,  that  at  prefent  theinclination  after  paper  of 
fome  kind  or  another  feems  to  be  fo  ftrong,  that  it  would 
be  in  vain  to  withlland  it. 

If  therefore  paper  is  to  be  employed  in  circulation,  we 
may  fee  from  what  has  been  faid  above,  what  are  the  prin- 
ciples on  which  it  ought  to  be  conducted,  the  ends  that 
pught  to  be  aimed  at,  and  the  evils  that  ought  to  be 
avoided.  The  ends  to  be  aimed  at  are,  the  facilitating  of 
commercial  tranfa^lions,  and  extending  of  credit  to  thofe 
who  are  likely  to  make  a  proper  ufe  of  it.  The  plan 
fhould  be  fo  conceived,  as  that  the  increafe  of  the  circu- 
lating medium  fhould  be  as  little  as  poffible,'  confidently 
with  thefe  ends.  It  fhould  be  perfedlly  fecure,  fo  as  to 
create  an  abfolute  confidence.  And  as  it  is  of  the  na- 
ture of  an  obligation,  no  force  whatever  fhould  be  ufed, 
but  the  reception  ofit  left  entirely  to  the  inclination  and  in- 
terefl  of  the  receiver.  It  may  be  fafely  aiErmed,  that  any 
deviation  from  thefe  principles,  which  are  deduced  from 
the  theory  above  laid  down,  will  be  an  effential  defeat  in 
the  fyllem.  If  we  inquire  what  fort  of  paper  will  bell 
anfwer  this  defcription,  we  find  that  there  is  no  other  fort 
ufed  in  Europe  than  that  of  banking  companies.  The 
government  llamping  paper  to  pafs  current  for  coin  is 
unknown  there.  Notwithltanding  the  immenfe  fums 
which  have  been  borrowed  by  the  Englifh  government, 
they  always  prefer  paying  intereft  for  them,  to  ilTuing  pa- 
per without  value  for  money.  The  only  thing  refembling 
it  in  the  EngliHi  hifiory  is,  James  the  fecond  coining  bafe 
metal,  and  affixing  a  price  to  it  by  proclamation  ;  a  pro- 
ject contemptible  in  the  contrivance,  and  abortive  in  the 
execution.  This  feems  to  be  a  confiderable  prefumption, 
that  the  meafare  is  upon  the  whole  not  eligible  ^\ 

*  It  feeins  to  me,  that  thefe  who  cr}^  out  for  emitting  paper  money 
by  the  leglllatuiesj  (hould  take  fome  pains  to  ftate  clearly  the  differ- 
ence between  this  and  the  European  ccantries,  and  point  out  the 
reafons  why  it  would  be  fervic^able  here,  and  hurtful  there  ;  or  elfe  in- 
iill:  that  it  would  be  a  wife  meafure  every  where,  and  recomm.end  the 
ufe  of  it  to  the  ftates  of  England,  France,  Holland,  &.c.  who  will  be 
luucb  indebted  to  them  for  the  difcovery. 


566  Essay  on  Money. 

The  paper  of  banking  companies  has  many  advantages. 
It  is  confidered  as  perfectly  fafe,  becaufe  it  can  be  ex- 
changed for  gold  and  filver  at  any  time  upon  demand. 
Having  this  fecurity  at  bottom,  it  is  perfectly  convenient 
for  tranfportation,  which  indeed  is  common  to  it  with  all 
paper.  In  addition  to  this,  it  is  confidered  as  the  princi- 
pal bufmefs  of  all  banks  to  gwQ  credit,  which,  though  di- 
redlly  only  in  favor  of  commercial,  is  ultim.aiely  ufeful 
to  many  different  claffes  of  men.  I  may  upon  this  ob- 
ferve.  that  it  is  the  duty  of  banking  companies  fo  to  con- 
duct their  operations  as  to  extend  their  regular  credit  as  far 
as  is  fafe  for  them felves.  If  inllead  of  this,  as  ha-S  been 
fuppoi'ed  at  leait  to  have  been  done  by  fome  hanks  in  Bri- 
tain, they  circulate  their  notes  by  aoents,  making  pur- 
chafes  in  diftbrent  and  chilant  places,  that  the  ium  ifiued 
may. very  far  exceed  the  fum  neceflary  to  be  kept  lor 
probable  demands ;  they  are  in  that  cafe  not  ferving  the 
public  at  all,  but  ufing  the  money  of  other  people  to  their 
own  profit,  k  is  alio  to  be  obfervec,  that  the  denon* /,•- 
tion  of  their  notes  lliould  never  be  very  fmall,  u  fliould 
indeed  be  as  high  as  is  conliilent  with  fuch  a  general  "5 
as  will  bring  in  a  fufficient  profit.  Very  fp.  all  denomi- 
nations of  paper  do  the  greatefl  injury  by  enicr*'^p;  into 
«niverlkl  circulation,  and  chiefly  afledling  the  induluious 
part  of  the  community.  It  was  a  very  great  complaint 
againfl  fome  banks  in  Scotland,  that  they  brought  down 
the  denominations  of  their  notes  as  far  as  ten  fliillin^is, 
and  feme  of  them  even  five  fliiUings.  If  this  was  an 
evil,  what  fliall  wefay  of  paper,  as  has  been  feen  in  this  coun- 
try,  as  low  as  one  flnlling,  fix  pence,  or  even  three  pence 
value.  It  is  a  rule  that  will  hardJy  admit  of  any  excep- 
tion, that  the  higher  the  denominations  of  paper  bills,  the 
greater  the  benefit  and  the  lefs  the  evil ;  and  on  the  con- 
trary, the  fmaller  the  denominations,  the  greater  the  evil 
and  the  lefs  the  benefit.  High  fums  in  paper  obligations 
may  perhaps  change  hands  once  a  week,  but  a  fhilling  or 
iix-penny  ticket  may  be  in  fifty  hands  in  one  day. 

I  mult  mention  here  what  has  been  often  obje^led 
againft  banks  in  America,  which,  if  jull,  would,  from 
the  reafoning  in  the  preceding  part  of  this  difcourfe,  tencj 


Essay  on  Money,  567 

to  their  condemnation.  It  is,  that  they  have  deftroyed 
credit  inilead  of  extending  it,  and  have  introduced  or 
given  occafion  to  exceffive  ufury.  I  am  not  fufficiently 
informed  to  fay  how  far  this  is  really  the  cafe,  but  cannot 
help  obferving,  that  treating  the  matter  theoretically,  as  I 
have  all  along  done,  and  confidering  the  nature  of  the 
thing,  this  does  not  appear  to  be  a  necelTary  confequence. 
One  would  rather  think  that  the  regular  credit  which  is 
or  ought  to  be  given  by  banks  fliould  prevent  ufury,  by 
fuppiying  all  thole  who  deferve  to  be  trufled.  Agreeably 
to  this  it  was  found  in  fad:,  that  the  inilitution  of  banks 
in  Scotland  lowered  the  interell;  of  money,  which  indeed 
feerns  to  be  the  natural  effect  of  every  fuch  inftitution, 
from  the  increafed  circulation.  But  if  any  inflances  more 
than  before  have  happened  of  this  kind,  it  may  be  by  per- 
fons  in  extreme  neceffity  applying  to  others  who  ha.ve 
credit  with  the  bank,  and  who  have  fo  little  confcientious 
fcruple  as  to  take  advantage  of  their  neighbor's  poverty. 
If  this  is  the  cafe,  it  is  only  a  particular  abufe,  or  occa- 
fional  bad  confequence  of  a  thing  otherwife  good  and  ufe- 
ful.  It  is  not  a  juft  objection  againd  any  thing,  that  it 
may  be  or  has  been  in  fome  inllances  abufed.  Belides^ 
as  it  is  the  duty  of  every  banking  company  to  guard 
againil  this  evil  as  much  as  poilible,  even  by  perfonal  re- 
fentment,  againfl  thofe  who  make  this  ufe  of  their  confi- 
dence, fo  it  is  an  evil  not  out  of  the  reach  of  legal  pu- 
nifhment  or  general  infamy.  Wife  and  well  executed 
laws  againil  ufury,  would  at  leafi:  fo  far  retrain  it,  as  to 
make  it  an  evil  of  little  confequence. 

But  in  examining  the  nature  and  operation  of  different 
kinds  of  paper,  I  mufl  confider  an  objetSlion  of  much 
greater  importance,  upon  the  principles  of  this  difcourfe, 
againil  the  paper  of  banks,  or  at  leal!;,  a  defe6l  in  their  fyf- 
tem,  that  leems  to  call  for  other  meaiiires  in  addition  to  it. 
This  is,  that  banking  companies  give  credit  only  fo  as  to 
be  ferviceable  to  merchants,  and  thofe  immediately  con- 
ne6led  with  them,  but  do  not  extend  it  to  hufbandmen,  or 
thofe  who  improve  the  Ibil,  by  taking  mortgages  for  a  con- 
fiderable  time  ;  yet  according  to  the  theory  above  laid 
down,  this  is  not  only  one  of  the  advantages,  but  perhaps 


568  '  Essay  on  Money, 

the  chief  advantage  to  be  derived  from  a  paper  circulation 
of  any  kind.  Now,  I  admit,  that  the  fettlement  and  cul- 
tivation of  the  foil  is  the  radical  fource  of  the  profperity 
of  this  country.  It  is  indeed  the  fource  of  the  profperity 
of  every  country,  but  comparatively  more  fo  of  that  of 
this  country  than  moil  others.  I  alfo  admit  that  credit, 
properly  extended,  to  indullrious  perfons  in  this  way 
t^-zould  be  exceedingly  beneficial.  For  this  reafon,  and  for 
this  alone,  Dr.  Franklin  and  others  perhaps  judged  right 
when  they  faid,  the  country  received  great  benefit  from 
the  loan  office  paper  of  former  times*  I  am  alfo  fenfible, 
that  it  is  not  prafticable  nor  proper  for  banking  compa- 
nies to  give  credit  upon  mortgages  on  diftant  lands.  They 
being  bound  to  prompt  payment,  muft  expedt  the  fame ; 
therefore  they  are  not  to  be  blamed  for  refufing  it  in  this 
form  *.  For  all  thefe  reafons,  I  do  not  take  upon  me 
wholly  to  condemn  a  meafure  in  America,  which  would 
be  unnecelTary  or  improper  in  Europe.  We  hear  from 
every  quarter,  that  is  to  fay,  from  almoft  every  ilate,  a 
loud  cry  for  paper  money.  Now,  when  there  is  a  great 
and  univerfal  complaint,  it  is  feldom  without  fome  foun- 
dation ;  and  though  I  have  taken  much  pains  in  the  pre- 
ceding difcourfe  to  fhow  that  they  miilake  their  own  wants, 
that  they  do  not  want  a  circulating  medium,  but  ufe  that 
phrafe  without  underfianding its  meaning;  yet  they  cer- 
tainly do  want  fomething.  They  want  particularly  cre- 
dit;  and  they  look  back  with  defire  to  the  former  times 
when  they  had  paper  money,  which,  by  its  name  itfelf, 
pointed  out  its  nature  and  ufe,  the  notes  being  then  call- 
ed bills  of  credit.  I  will  therefore  proceed,  keeping  a 
llea.dy  eye  upon  the  principles  above  laid  down,  to  ftate 
in  what  manner  a  loan-office  may  be  eftablifhed  f  with- 

*  Imvifl:  here  obrcrve,  that  the  banks  cf  Scotland  never  gave  credit 
upon  mortgages,  but  perlbnal  fecurity  only,  and  yet  they  were  uni- 
verfal ly  iuppoied  to  pnt  it  in  the  power  oF  landed  men  to  improve 
their  eFiates  j  To  that  tlie  money  tranlaClions  mud  have  been,  though 
not  diredly,  yet  remotely  in  their  favor. 

I  I  am  not  ignorant  that  there  has  been  in  one  of  ourflates,  I  mean 
Pcnnfylvania,  a  violent  controverfy  for  and  agaiiill  the  bank,  between 
the  political  faftions  which^divide  that  ftate.  On  this  account,  I  am 
ferry  I  was  obliged  to  itiention  banks  at  all ;  but  it  w?.s  impoflible  for 


iissay  on  Money;       '  569 

in  moderate  bounds,  that  fliall  render  a  fervice  proba- 
bly greater  than  the  evils  neceilavily  confequent  upon  it. 

I  would  therefore  propofe,  that  any  ftate  that  thinks 
it  neceflary,  Ihould  emit  a  fum  of  fuppofe  one  hundred 
thoufand  pounds,  and  that  the  following  rules  fliould 
be  laid  down  in  the  law,  and  invariably  adhered  to, 
(i)  Tnat  not  a  fliilling  of  that  money  fhould  ifTue  from 
the  loan- office  treafury,*;but  upon  mortgage  of  land  to  the 
amount  of  double  the  fum  in  value.  (2)  That  it  fliould 
not  be  a  legal  tender  for  any  debts  contracted  or  to  be 
contraded,  but  receivable  in  all  taxes  within  the  flate, 
and  payable  for  the  wages  of  Council  and  Aflembly,  and 
the  fees  and  perquifites  of  all  public  officers,  after  it  has 
been  fo  received.  (3)  That  at  the  erid  of  twelve  calen- 
der months,  a  fum  precifely  equal  to  the  intereil  that  had 
accrued  or  become  due  in  that  time,  fliould  be  confumed 
by  fire,  and  public  intimation  given  of  its  being  done. 
The  fame  thing  fliould  be  done  every  fubfequent  year. 
(4)  That  at  no  time  any  part  of  this  money  faould  be 
made  ufe  of  in  the  payment  of  the  public  debts,  but 
that  which  had  been  firit  levied  in  taxes.  It  v/ould  not 
be  proper  even  to  borrow  from  the  flock  for  this  purpofe 
by  anticipation^. 

If  thefe  rules  were  obferved,  credit  would  be  given  to 
fome  perfons,  v/ho  needed  and  deferved  it,  to  the  amount 
of  the  whoJe  fum.  The  bills  current  would  be  dimi- 
niflied  in  quantity  every  year  fo  as  not  to  load  the  circu- 
lation, which  would  have  a  fenfible  effe£l  upon  the  pub- 

meto  do  juflice  to  the  fubjedl,  without  cbrifidering  their  general  na- 
ture and  effects  ;  and  I  will  not  fo  much  as  name  any  of  the  ar- 
guments on  either  fide  of  this  quefiion,  but  what  is  neceffarily  con- 
nedted  with  money  in  general  as  a  currency^  and  its  efFevSls  upon 
the  national  intereil* 

*  The  paying  of  the  public  creditors  is  one  of  the  rnoft  Coniraoit 
and  popular  arguments  for  paper  emiffions,  but  to  pay  them  with  mo- 
ney not  loaned,  is  not  paying,  but  continuing  the  debt  upon  the 
ftate,  and  only  making  it  change  hands*  All  fuch  bills  fo  paid  mi. it 
be  accounted  for  by  the  public.  It  is  better,  therefore,  that  by  tlie 
loans  men  may  be  enabled  eafily  to  pay  their  talxes  ;  and  then  let  the 
public  creditors  be  paid  by  money  demanded  equally  from  the  whojft 
for  that  purpofe. 

Vol*  III.  4  G 


57^  E'sstiy  on  Money, 

lie  opinion,  and  indeed,  from  the  nature  of  the  thing, 
w  ould  increafe  their  value,  or  rather  confirm  it  from  yeaf 
to  year*.  At  the  end  of  fourteen  or  fifteen  years  they 
would  be  Wholly  taken  but  of  ciixulatioti,  and  that  not 
by  any  tax  laid  on  for  the  purpdfe,  but  by  the  hire  or  ufe 
of  the  money  itfelf,  and  after  all,  the  prinelpal  fum 
would  be  Hill  due  to  th6  ftate  in  good  mofiey,  which 
might  bear  intereft  f6r  fetter,  tt  would  be  an  ittipdrtant 
addition  to  this  fehemfe,  if  m)  bills  lefs  than  two  dollars, 
or  perhaps  three,  or  five,  ihould  be  emitted,  as  thi^ 
would  {1111  keep  filver  at  leail  in  circulation.  On  the 
above  principles,  all  tlie  good  that  can  be  produced  by 
paper  would  be  cfl'ed^ed,  viz.  facilitating  commerce,  and 
giving  credit ;  and  as  little  of  the  evil  as  poffible,  becaufe 
the  quantity  would  be  fixed  and  moderate  at  firil,  and 
continually  decreafing,  fo  as  at  laft  to  vanifh  altogether ; 
and  then  another  emififion  of  the  fame  kind  might  be 
made,  if  the  utility  of  the  firft  ftiould  recommend  it. 

Perhaps  it  will  be  faid,  that  this  money  not  being  a 
leg^l  tender,  would  not  anfwer  the  purpafe  of  borrowers 
by  paying  their  debts,  nor  get  at  all  into  circulation.  To 
this  I  anfwer,  that  it  would  not  anfwer  the  purpofe  of 
thofe  who  want  to  pay  their  debts  with  half  nothing,  and 
cheat  their  creditors ;  nor  do  I  wiih  to  fee  any 
thing  attempted  that  Would  produce  that  efFe(St.  But  I 
afiirm,  that  it  would  get  better  into  circulation  than  by  a 
tender  ikiv,  which  creates  general  and  juft  fufpicion. 
Tender  laWs,  as  has  been  already  proved,  may  be  made 
ule  of  by  deceitful  perfons  to  do  particular  adts  of  injuf- 
tice,  but  are  not  fufficient  to  procure  general  circulation, 
nor  to  excite  and  reward  induflry,  without  the  opinion 
and  approbation  of  the  public.     Such  money  as  I  have  de- 


*  I  cannot  help  obferving   here,  that  the  titles  of  inofl:  of  the  ad^s 
for  emitting  money,  do  unawares  confels  the  jufUce    of   all   that  has 

feeen  f  .id  above  ;    they  run  thus,  "  An   a<5l  for  emitting thou- 

fand  pounds  in  bills  of  credit,  and  diitclingthe  manner  oi  sinking  the 
same,''  Does  not  this  {how  what  fort  of  a  circulaticg  medium  they 
are  ?  Does  it  not  admit,  that  they  will  do  evil  if  they  continue  to 
circulate  ?  When  you  coin  gold  and  filver,  do  you  provide  for  fink- 
ing it  ? 


Essay  on  Money.  571 

fgribecl  wouli  i^^z\i&  uo  c^lariif^,  it  might  eafily  j^e  tried. 
^t  would,  iri  |Tiy  qpinion,  cejtainly  he  tried,  for  all  would 
J^npw  that  it  woiTld  p^y  every  tax  to  governjpent,  and 
jeven  borrowers  of  large  fums  i^iight  make  trial  of  it, 
without  ^riy  rifk  at  all,  becaufe,  if  it  wovild  not  anfwer 
their  ^nd,  they  might,  after  a  f^w  r|ion|:hs,  repay  it,  and 
take  up  their  iportgage.  But  I  cannpt  help  thinking 
that  the  principle?  of  it  are  fo  juft,  and  the  pjan  fo  cer- 
tain, that  all  underftanding  perfpns  WPuld  pj^rceive  and 
approve  it. 

I  muft  here  take  the  pcpaf^on  and  the  liberty  of  faying, 
that  it  were  greatly  to  be  wiflied  that  thofe  who  l}ave  in 
their  hancjs  the  aclmuiiftration  ofiiffiiirs  in  ths  feveral 
flates  i^f  Am.erica,  would  take  no  iDeafu3i;e3,  either  on 
this,  or  ^ny  other  fubje6l,  bpt  what  are  founded  upon  juf- 
|ice,  fupported  by  rpafon-^  and  .warranted  to  be  fafe  by 
the  experience  of  former  ages,  and  of  other  countries. 
The  operation  of  political  caufes  is  as  uniform  and  certain 
as  that  of  natural  caufes.  And  any  meafure  v/hich  in 
itfelf  has  a  bad  tendenc)^.,  though  it?  eifedls  ir^ay  not  he 
in.fl^ntly  ^ifcernible,  and  their  progrefs  may  be  buti^ow, 
yet  ijt  \yill  be  i Infallible  ;  ^n^d  peihaps  the  danger  will 
tj^en  Qiiiy  appegr  when  a  rem,e(Jy  is  ^ppoflible.  This  is 
the  cafe,  in  fo^e  4egreG,  with  all  political  meafures, 
without  e^.ception,,  yet  I  aj?^  miftaken  if  it  is  no.t  eminent- 
ly fo  with  refpe<5i  fo-cojiamercial  dealings.  Commerce  is 
^xcited>  ^yxQQt^d^y  ^nd  caiTied  on  by  intereft.  But  dp 
fiipt  mijl^^^^e  th^,  it  i^  notca^-ried  on  by  general  univerlai 
iatereft,  nor  ^vefii  hy  v/cll  infGrm(id  iia.tioria}  intereft,  but 
hy  iim^edi^te,  apparent,  and  fenfible  per/bnal  iiiterePu^ 
'J  muft  alfo  o,bferv€,  tliat  there  is  in  man^kind  a  llwp- 
fighteci^efs  Hpoft  this  fubjecl  that  is  quite  aftonilhing. 
AH  .n>!en  -J^^re  iiot  p^iilQfoi:^ers,  but  they  are  generally 
j^  good  judges  of  their  own  profit  in  what  is  immediately 
"before  them,  and  will  uniformly  adhere  tp  it,.  It  is  not 
4incommon  to  lee  a  m^n  who  apj^ears  to  be  almoft  as 
llgpicj  a^  a  Itone,  and  yet  he  ftall  ,be  a.s  adroit  and  dex- 
trous in  making  a  biju'^ain,  or  even  more  fo,  than  a  man 
of  the  firi'l  rate  underftanding,  who,  probably  far  that 
■very  reafon,  is   lefs  attentive  to  trifling  circumftances, 


572  Essay  on  JS^Loney. 

and  lefs  under  the  government  of  mean  and  felfiih  views- 
As  to  currency,  which  has  been  oar  general  fubje(5l,  if 
/[:oins  of  any  particular  fpecies  happen,  as  is  fometimes 
the  cafe,  to  pafs  at  a  rate,  ever  fo  little  higher,  in  _  one 
country,  or  corner  of  a  country  than  another,  thither  they 
will  immediately  direct  their  courfe  ;  and  if  the  nnatter 
is  not  attended  to,  nor  the  miftake  rectified,  they  will 
be  all  there  in  a  very  fliort  time,  and  the  place  which  re- 
ceives them  mufl  bear  the  lofs. 

I  will  now  ftim  up,  in  fmgle  propofitions,  the  fubflance 
of  what  has  been  afferted,  and  I  ihope  fufficiently  prov- 
ed, in  the  preceding  difcourfe. 

(i.)  It  ought  not  to  be  imputed  to  accident  or  caprice, 
that  gold,  filver,  and  copper,  formerly  were,  and  the 
two  fird  continue  to  be,  the  medium  of  commerce  ;  but 
to  their  inherent  value,  joined  with  other  properties,  that 
fit  them  for  circulation.  Therefore,  all  tlie  fpeculations, 
formed  upon  a  contrary  fuppofition,  are  inconclufive  and 
abfurd. 

(2.)  Gold  and  filver  are  far  from  being  in  too  fmall 
quantity  at  prefent  for  the  purpofe  of  a  circulating  me- 
dium, in  the  commercial  nations.  The  laft  of  them, 
yiz.  filver,  feems  rather  to  be  in  too  great  quantity,  fo 
as  to  become  inconvenient  for  tranfportation. 

(3.)  The  people  of  every  nation  will  get  the  quantity  of 
thefe  precious  metals,  that  they  are  entitled  to  by  their 
indullry,  and  no  more.  If  by  any  accident,  as  plunder 
in  war,  or  borrowing  from  other  nations,  or  even  finding 
it  in  mines,  they  get  more,  they  will  not  be  able  to  keep 
it.  It  will  in  a  iliort  time,  find  its  level.  Laws  againll 
jExportlng  the  coin  will-  not  prevent  this.  Laws  of 
this  kind,  though  they  are  ftill  in  force  in  fome  nations, 
fuppofed  to  be  wife,  yet  are  in  themfelves  ridiculous.-  if 
you  import  more  dian  you  export,  you  mufl:  pay  the  ba- 
lance, or  ^ive  up  the  trade. 

(j.)  The  quantity  of  gold  and  filver  at  any  time  in  a 
nation,  is  no  evidence  of  national  wealth,  unlefs  you  take 
into  confideration  the  way  in  which  it  came  there,  ancj 
the  probability  of  its  continuinj?. 


Essay  on  Money,  573 

(5.)  No  paper  of  any  kind  is,  properly  fpeaking,  mo- 
ney. It  ought  never  to  be  made  a  legal  tender.  It  ought 
not  to  be  forced  upon  any  body,  becaufe  it  cannot  be 
forced  upon  ei^ery  body. 

(6.)  Gold  and  filver,  fairly  acquired,  and  likely  to  con- 
tinue, are  real  national,  as  well  as  perfonal  wealth.  If 
twice  as  much  paper  circulates  with  them,  though  in 
full  credit,  particular  perfons  may  be  rich  by  poflefT- 
ing  it,  but  the  nation  in  general  is  not. 

{7.)  The  cry  of  the  fcarcity  of  money,  is  generally 
puting  the  effecl  for  the  caufe.  No  bufmefs  can  be 
done,  fay  fome,  becaufe  money  is  fcarce.  It  may  be 
faid  with  more  truth,  money  is  fcarce,  becaufe  little  bu- 
fmefs is  done.  Yet  their  influence,  like  that  of  many 
ether  caufes,  and  effects,  is  reciprocal. 

(8.)  The  quantity  of  current  money,  of  whatever  kind, 
will  have  an  efte6l  in  raifmg  the  price  of  induftry,  and 
bringing  goods  dearer  to  market,  therefore  the  increafe  of 
the  currency  in  any  nation,  by  paper,  which  will  not 
pafs  among  other  natioais,  makes  the  firft  coll  of  every- 
thing they  do  greater,  and  of  confequence,  the  profit 
lefs. 

(9.)  It  is  however  poiTible,  that  paper  obligations. may 
fo  far  facilitate  commerce,  and  extend  credit,  as  by 
the  additional  indu'lry,  that  they  excite,  to  over-ba- 
lance the  injury  which  they  do  in  other  refpeds.  Yet 
even  the  good  itfelf  may  be  over-done.  .  Too  much  mo- 
ney may  be  emitted  even  upon  loan,  but  to  emit  money 
any  other  way,  than  upon  loan,  is  to  do  all  evil  and  no 
good.  - 

(lo.)  The  exceflive  quantity  of  paper  emitted  by  the 
different  Hates  of  America,  will  probably  be  a  lofs  to  the 
whole.  They  cannot  liowever  take  advantage  of  one 
another  in  that  way.  That  flate  which  emits  moll  will 
lofe  moft,  and  vice  licrsa. 

(ti.)  I  can  fee  no  way  in  which  it  can  do  good  but 
one,  which  is,  to  deter  other  nations  from  trufting  us, 
and  thereby  leffen  our  importations  ;  and  I  fmcerely 
wifh,  that  in  that  way,  it  may  prove  in  fome  degree  a 
pmedy  for  its  own  evils. 


574  Essay  on  Money. 

(i2.)  Thofe  who  refufe  doubtful  paper,  and  thereby 
difgrace  it,  or  prevent  its  circulation,  are  not  enemies, 
but  friends  to  their  country. 

To  draw  to  a  conclufion,  it  is  probable  that  thofe  who 
perceive,  which  it  will  be  e^fy  to  do,  that  the  author  of 
this  tra6t  is  not  a  merchant  or  trader,  by  profeflion,  will 
be  ready  to  fay,  what  has  this  gentleman  to  do  with  fuch  a 
fubjedl  ?  Why  fhould  he  write  upon  what  he  has  no  prac- 
tical knowledge  of,  money  and  commerce  ?  To  thefe  I 
I  anfwer,  that  I  have  written,  not  as  a  merchant,  but  as 
a  fcholar.  I  profefs  to  derive  my  opinions  from  the  beft 
civilians  of  this  and  the  laft  age,  and  from  the  hiftory  of 
all  ages,  joined  with  a  pretty  confiderable  experience  and 
attention  to  the  effedls  of  pohtical  caufes,  within  the  fphere 
of  my  own  obfervation.  It  is  not  even  too  much  to  fay, 
that  one  of  the  mercantile  profeflion,  unlefs  his  views 
were  very  enlarged  indeed,  is  not  ib  proper  to  handle  a 
general  iubje£t  of  this  kind  as  fome  others.  His  atten- 
tion is  ufually  confined  to  the  bufinefs,  and  to  the  branch 
of  that  bufinefs  in  which  he  is  ea^ployed.  In  that  his 
difcernment  will  be  clear,  and  he  will  find  out,  if  pofli- 
ble,  where  he  can  buy  cheapefl,  and  fell  deareft.  But  as 
to  tiie  theory  of  commerce,  or  the  great  obje£ts  of  na- 
tional interell  or  connexion,  he  can  have  no  advantage 
at  all  over  a  perfon  given  to  ftudy  and  refledion,  who  has 
fome  acquaintance  with  public  life.  With  thefe  remarks^ 
by  way  of  apology,  and  having  no  intereft  in  the  mat- 
ter bat  what  is  common  to  every  citizen,  I  freely  com- 
mit the  whole  to  die  judgment  of  the  impartial  public* 


[     515    ] 


os^Mti  i>dca  OBoo  tfood  co*)'*;'o  e©M  Ww  cftoo  Moo  oecocooo  cop  joci  ooec  oroO  ooao<i6<ic  eoso  oooo  o»!»  o»eo  ooai  o»fcB 
Boso  Moa  osoo  ooao  3()^  oooo  ocoa  (iMo  booo  frafti  Aieo  aboa  oaoo  i»oeo  cooo  oeeo  «oo«  woo  oooo  oooo  com  oooo  oom  3««e  3o«^ 


LETTERS 


O    N 


MARRIAGE. 


LETTER    I. 


I  OFFER,  with  fonie  hefitation,  a  few  refle<51:ions  upon 
the  married  ftate.  I  exprefs  mylelf  thus,  becaufe  the 
fubje6l  has  been  fo  often  and  fo  fully  treated,  and  by  wri- 
ters of  the  firfl  clafs,  that  it  may  be  thought  nothing  now 
remains  to  be  faid  that  can  merit  attention.  My  only 
apology  is,  that  what  I  offer  is  the  fruit  of  real  obfervation 
and  perfonal  reflection.  It  is  not  a  copy  of  any  man's 
writings,  but  of  my  own  thoughts ;  and  therefore  if  the 
fentirtients  lliould  not  be  in  themfelves  wholly  new,  they 
may  poffibly  appear  in  a  light  not  altogether  common.  I 
Ihall  give  you  them  in  the  way  of  aphorifms  or  obferva- 
tions  ;  and  fubjoin  to  each  a  few  thoughts  by  way  of  proof 
or  illuftration. 

i.  Nothing  can  be  more  contrary  to  reafon  or  public 
utility,  than  the  converfation  and  writings  of  thofe  who 
turn  matrimony  into  ridicule ;  yet  it  is  in  many  cafes, 
as  weakly  defended,  as  it  is  unjuftly  attacked. 

Thofe  who  treat  marriage  with  ridicule,  a6l  in  dire6l 
and  deliberate  oppofitloa  to  the  order  of  providence,  and 


57^  Letters  on  Marriage, 

to  the  conflitution  of  the  fociety  of  which  they  are  mem- 
bers. The  true  reafon  why  they  are  borne  with  fo  pa- 
tiently, is,  that  the  Author  of  our  nature  has  implanted  in 
us  inflindlive  propenfities,  which  are  by  much  too  ilrong 
for  their  feeble  attacks. — But  if  we  are  to  eftimate  the  ma- 
lignity of  a  man's  conduct  or  fentiments,  not  from  their 
efFe6l,  but  from  their  native  tendency,  and  his  inward  dif- 
pofition,  it  is  not  eafy  to  imagine  any  thing  more  crimi- 
nal, than  an  attempt  to  bring  marriage  into  difefteem.  It 
is  plainly  an  effort  not  only  to  dellroy  the  happinefs,  but 
to  prevent  the  exiftence  of  human  nature.  A  man  who 
continues  through  life  in  a  fmgle  flate,  ought,  in  juftice  to 
endeavor  to  fatisfy  the  public  that  his  cafe  is  fmgular,  and 
that  he  has  fome  infuperable  obdacle  to  plead  in  his  ex- 
cufe.  If,  in  (lead  of  this,  he  reafons  in  defence  of  his  ov/n 
condud,  and  takes  upon  him  to  condemn  that  of  others, 
it  is  at  once  incredible  and  abfurd  :  That  is  to  fay,  he  can 
fcarcely  be  believed  to  be  fmcere.  And  v/hether  he  be 
fmcere  or  not,  he  defer ves  to  be  detefted. 

In  fupport  of  the  laft  part  of  my  remark,  let  it  be  ob- 
ferved,  that  thofe  who  write  in  defence  of  marriage  ufually 
give  fuch  fubliine  and  exalted  defcriptions,  as  are  not  reali- 
zed in  one  cafe  of  a  thoufand  ;  and  therefore  cannot  be 
ajufl  motive  to  a  confiderate  man.  Inilead  of  infilling 
on  the  abfolute  neceffity  of  marriage  for  the  fervice  of  the 
Hate,  and  the  folid  advantages  that  arife  fijom  it,  in  ordi- 
nary cafes;  they  give  us  a  certain  refined  idea  of  felicity, 
which  hardly  exills  any  where  but  in  the  writer's  imagina- 
tion. Even  the  Spectator,  than  whom  there  is  hardly  in 
cur  language  a  more  juft  and  rational  writer,  after  faying 
many  excellent  things  in  defence  of  marriage,  fcarcely 
ever  fails  to  draw  the  chara(5ler  of  a  lady  in  fuch  terms, 
that  I  may  fafely  fay  not  above  one  that  anfwers  the  def- 
cription  is  to  be  found  in  a  parifh,  or  perhaps  a  country. 
NoW|  is  it  not  much  better  to  leave  the  matter  to  the  force 
of  nature,  than  to  urge  it  by  fuch  arguments  as  thefe  ?  Is 
the  manner  of  thinking  induced  by  fuch  writings,  likely 
to  hallenor  poilpone  a  man's  entering  into  the  mii-^.rrujgc 
Hate  ? 


Letters  eh  Marriage.  ^fj 

There  is  alfo  a  fault  I  think  td  be  found  in  ahnoft  every 
writer  who  fpeaks  in  favor  of  the  female  fex,  that  they 
over-rate  the  charms  of  the  outward  form.  This  is  the 
cafe  in  all  romances — a  clafs  of  writings  to  which  the 
world  is  very  httle  indebted. — The  fame  thing  may  be 
faid  of  plays,  where  die  heroine  for  certain,  and  often  all 
the  ladies  that  are  introduced,  are  reprefented  as  inimita- 
bly beautiful.  Even  Mr.  Addifon  himfelf  in  his  admira-, 
ble  defcription  of  Martia,  which  he  puts  in  the  mouth  of 
Juba,  though  it  begins  with, 

'Tis  not  a  set  of  features,  or  eomplexion^  &c. 

yet  could  not  help  inferting 

True  she  is  fair  ;  oh^  honjn  cUmnely  fair  ! 

Now,  T  apprehend  this  is  direcilly  contrary  t*o  what  Ihoiild 
be  the  defign  of  every  moral  writer.  Men  are  naturally 
too  apt  to  be  carried  away  with  the  admiration  of  a  beau- 
tiful face.  Muft  it  not,  therefore,  confirm  them  in  this 
crrpr,  when  beauty  is  made  an  ellential  part  of  every  ami- 
able chara6ler  ?  The  preference  fuch  writers  pretend  to 
give  to  the  mental  qualities,  goes  but  a  little  way  to  reme- 
dy the  evil.  If  they  are  never  feparated  in  the  defcription, 
\^herever  men  find  the  one,  they  will  prefume  upon  the 
other.  But  is  this  according  to  truth,  or  agreeable  to  ex- 
perience ?  What  vaft  numbers  of  the  moft  valuable  wo- 
men are  to  be  found,  who  are  by  no  means  "  divinely  fair  ?'* 
Are  thefe  all  to  be  negle6ted  then  ?  Or  is  it  not  certain, 
from  experience,  that  there  is  not  a  fingle  quality,  on 
which  matrimonial  happinefs  depends  fo  little,  as  outward 
form  ?  Every  other  quality  that  is  good,  will  go  a  certain 
length  to  atone  for  v/hat  is  bad  ;  as,  for  example,  if  a  wo- 
man is  a6live  and  induflrious  in  her  family,  it  will  make 
a  hufband  bear  with  more  patience  a  little  anxiety  of  coun- 
tenance, or  fretfulaefs  of  temper,  though  in  themfelves 
difagreeable.  But  (always  fappofing  the  honey-moon  to 
be  over)  I  do  not  think  that  beauty  atones  in  the  leaft  de- 
gree for  any  bad  quality  whatfoever  ;  it  is,  on  the  contrary, 
an  aggravation  of  them,  being  confidered  as  a  breach  of 
faith,  or  deception,  by  holding  out  a  falfe  fignah 
Vol.  III.  4  D 


578  Letters  on  Marriage, 

2.  In  the  married  ftate  in  general,  there  is  notfo  much 
happinefs  as  young  lovers  dream  of;  nor  is  there  by  far 
fomuch  unhappinefs,  as  loofe  authors  univerfally  fuppofe. 

The  firil  part  of  this  aphorifni  will  probably  be  eafily 
aclmitted.  Before  mentioning,  however,  the  little  I  mean 
to  fay  upon  it,  I  beg  leave  to  obferve,  that  it  would  be 
quite  wrong  to  blame  the  tendemefs  and  fervency  of  af- 
fection, by  which  the  fexesare  drawn  to  one  another,  and 
that  generous  devotednefs  of  hearts  which  is  often  to  be 
feen  on  one,  and  fometimes  on  both  fides.  This  is  na- 
ture itfelf ;  and  when  under  the  reftraint  of  reafon,  and 
government  of  prudence,  may  be  grea,tly  fubfervient  to 
the  future  happinefs  of  life.  But  there  is  certainly  an 
extravagance  of  fentiment  and  language  on  this  fubject, 
that  is  at  once  ridiculous  in  itfelf,  and  the  proper  caufe,  in 
due  time,  of  wretchednefs  and  difappointment. 

Let  any  man,  who  has  outlived  thefe  fenfations  him- 
felf,  and  has  leifure  to  be  amufed,  dip  a  little  into  the  love 
longs  that  have  been  compofed  and  publifhed  from  Ana- 
creon  to  the  prefent  day,  and  what  a  fund  of  enter- 
tainment will  he  find  provided  for  him !  The  heathen 
gods  and  goddeffes  are  the  Handing  and  lawful  means 
of  celebrating  the  praifes  of  a  millrefs  before  whom, 
no  doubt,  Venus  for  beauty,  and  Minerva  for  wifdom, 
mud  go  for  nothing.  Every  image  in  nature  has  been 
called  up  to  heighten  our  idea  of  female  charms — the 
palenefs  of  the  lily,  the  frefhnefs  of  the  ro{e,  the  bluih 
of  the  violet,  and  the  vermillion  of  the  peach.  This  is 
even  Hill  nothing.  One  of  the  mod  approved  topics  of  a 
love-fick  writer  is,  that  all  nature  fades  and  mourns  at  the 
abfence  of  his  fair,  and  puts  on  a  new  bloom  at  her  ap- 
proach. All  this,  we  know  well,  has  place  only  in  his 
imagination  ;  for  nature  proceeds  quietly  in  her  courfe, 
without  minding  him  and  his  chai^mer  in  the  lead.  But 
.  we  are  not  yet  done.  The  glory  of  the  heavenly  orbs, 
the  ludre  of  the  fun  himfelf,  and  even  the  joys  of  heaven, 
are  frequently  and  familiarly  introduced,  to  exprefs  a  lo- 
ver's happinefs  or  hopes^  Flames,  darts,  arrows,  and 
lightning  from  a  female  eye,  have  been  exprellions  as  old 
at  lead  as  the  art  of  writing,  and  are  dill  in  full  vogue. 


Letters  on  Marriage.  syg 

Some  of  thefe  we  can  find  no  other  fault  with  than  that 
they  area  Httle  mifre  as  the  French  exprefs  it ;  but  I  con- 
fefs  I  have  fometimes  been  furprifed  at  the  choice  of  light- 
ning, becaufe  it  is  capable  of  a  double  application,  and 
may  put  us  in  mind  that  fome  wives  have  lightning  in 
their  eyes  fufEcient  to  terrify  a  hufband,  as  weli  as  the 
maids  have  to  confume  a  lover. 

Does  not  all  this  plainly  fliow,  that  young  perfons  are 
apt  to  indulge  themfelves  with  romantic  expetiations  of  a 
delight,  both  extatic  and  permanent,  fuch  as  never  did  and 
never  can  exift  ?  And  does  it  not  at  the  fame  time  ex- 
pofe  matrimony  to  the  ibofFs  of  libertines,  who,  knowing 
that  thefe  raptures  mud  foon  come  to  an  end,  think  it 
fufficient  to  difparage  the  ilate  itfelf,  that  fome  inconfide- 
rate  perfons  have  not  met  v/ith  in  it,  what  it  was  nevev 
intended  to  beftow  ? 

I  proceed,  therefore,  to  obferve  that  there  is  not  by  far 
fo  much  unhcippinefs  in  the  married  ftate  in  general,  as 
loofe  authors  univerfally  fuppofe.  I  choofe  to  ftate  the 
argument  in  this  manner,  becaufe  it  is  much  more  fatif- 
fying  than  drawing  pi6lures  of  the  extremes  on  either 
hand.  It  fignifies  very  little,  on  the  one  hand,  to  defcribe 
the  ilate  of  a  few  perfons  dillinguifhed  for  underftanding, 
fuccefsful  in  life,  refpe<5led  by  the  public,  and  dear  to  one 
another ;  or  on  the  other,  thofe  hateful  brawls  which  by 
and  by  produce  an  advertifement  in  the  news-papers» 
"  Whereas  Sarah  the  wife  of  the  fubfcriber,  has  eloped 
"  from  his  bed  and  board,'^  &c.  If  we  would  treat  of  this 
matter  with  propriety,  we  mufl  confider  how  it  Hands 
among  the  bulk  of  mankind.  The  propofition,  then,  I 
mean  to  ellablifh,  is,  that  there  is  much  lefs  unhappinefs 
in  the  matrimonial  ftate  than  is  often  apprehended,  and 
indeed  as  much  real  comfort  as  there  is  any  ground  to 
expedl. 

To  fupport  this  truth,  I  obferve,  that  taking  mankind 
throughout,  we  find  much  more  fatisfadllon  and  chearful- 
nefs  in  the  married  than  in  the  fingle.  In  proportion  to 
their  numbers,  I  think  of  thofe  that  are  grown  up  to  ma- 
turer  years,  or  pail  the  meridian  of  life,  there  is  a  much 
greater  degree  of  peeviflmefs  and  difcontent^  whimficaiL- 


380:.  Letters  on  Marriage, 

nefs  and  peculiarity,  iru  the  laft  than  in  the  iirft.  The 
profpefl  of  continuing  fmgle  to  the  end  of  life,  narrows 
the  mind  and  clofes  the  heart.  I  knew  an  inftance  of  a 
gendeman  of  good  eilate,  who  lived  fingle  till  he  was  paft 
forty,  and  he  was  efteemed  by  all  his  neighbors  not  only 
frugal,  but  mean  in  fonrie  parts  of  his  conduct.  This  fame 
perfon  afterwards  marrying  and  having  children,  every 
body  obferved  that  he  became  liberal  and  open-hearted  on 
.the  change,  when  one  would  have  thought  he  had  a  llron- 
ger  motive  than  before,  to  fave  and  hoard  up.  On  this 
a  neighbor  of  his  made  a  remark,  as  a  philofopher,  that 
every  ultimate  pafiion  is  flronger  than  an  intermediate 
one  ;  that  a  fingle  perfon  loves  wealth  im-mcdiately,  and 
on  its  own  account ;  whereas  a  parent  can  fcarcely  help 
preferring  his  children  before  it,  and  valuing  it  only  for 
their  fakes. 

This  leads  me  to  obferve,  that  marriage  muft  be  the 
fource  of  happinefs,  as  being  the  im.miediate  caufe  of  many 
other  relations,  the  moft  interelling  and  delightful.  I 
cannot  ealily  figure  to  myfelf  any  man  who  does  not 
look  upon  it  as  the  firft  of  earthly  bleffings,  to  have  chil- 
dren, to  be  the  objedls  of  attachment  and  care  when  they 
are  young,  and  to  inherit  his  name  and  fubftance,  when 
.he  himfelf  muft,  in  the  courfe  of  nature,  go  off  the  Hage. 
Does  not  this  very  circumilance  give  unfpeakable  dignity 
to  each  parent  in  the  other's  eye,  and  ierve  to  increafe 
and  confirm  that  union,  w^hich  youthful  paffion,  and  lefs 
durable  motives,  firil  occafioned  to  take  place  ?  I  rather 
choofe  to  mention  this  argument,  becaufe  neither  exalted 
underftandings,  nor  elegance  of  manners,  are  necelfary 
to  give  it  force.  It  is  felt  by  the  peafant  as  well  as  by 
the  prince;  and,  if  we  believe  fbme  obfervers  on  human 
life,  its  influence  is  not  lefs,  but  greater  in  the  lower 
than  in  the  higher  ranks. 

Before  I  proceed  to  any  farther  remarks,  I  muft  liiy  a 
few  words,  to  prevent  or  remove  a  deception,  which  very 
probably  leads  many  into  error  on  this  fubje6l.  It  is  no 
other- than  a  man's  fuppofing  what  would  not  give  him 
liappinefs,  cannot  give  it  to  another.  Becaufe,  perhaps, 
there  are  fev/  married  women,  Vv^iofe  perfons,  converfation, 


Letters  on  Marriage,  581 

iTjanners,  and  condudl,  are  altogether  to  his  tafte,  he  takes 
upon  him  to  conclude,  that  the  hufbands,   in  thefe  nume- 
rous inftances,  muft  lead  a  miferable  life.     Is  it  needful 
to  fay  any  thing  to  fhow  the  fallacy  of  this  ?  The  taftes 
and  difpofitions  of  men  are  as  various  as  their  faces  ;  and 
therefore  what  is  difpleafmg  to  one,  may  be,   not  barely 
tolerable,  but  agreeable  to  another.     I  have  known  a  huf- 
band  delighted  with  his  wife's  fluency  and  poignancy  of 
fpeech  in  fcolding  her  fervants,  and  another  who  was  not 
able  to  bear  the  lead  noife  of  the  kind  with  patience. 
.  Having  obviated  this  millake,  it  will  be  proper  to  ob- 
ferve,  that  through  all  the  lower  and  middle  ranks  of  life, 
there  is  generally  a  good  mealure  of  matrimonial  or  do- 
meftic  comfort,  v/hen  their   circumftances  are  eafy,  or 
their  eftate  growing.     This  is  eafily  accounted  for,  not 
only  from  their  being  free  from  one  of  the  moft  ufual 
caufes  of  peevifhnefs  and  difcontent,  but  becaufe  the  af- 
fairs of  a  family  are  very  feldom  in  a  thriving  Hate,  unlefs 
both    contribute   their   Ihare   of  diligence  ;   fo    that  thej'- 
have    not    only   a    common  happinefs    to  fhare,    but   a 
joint  merit  in  procuring  it.     Men  may  talk  in  raptures 
0^  youth  and  beauty,  wit  and  fprightlinefs,  and  a  hundred 
other  lliining  qualities ;  but  after  feven  years  coliabita- 
tion,  not  one  of  them   is  to  be  compared  to  good  familv 
managemenf,  which  is  feen  at  every  meal,  and  felt  every 
hour  in  the  hufband's  purfe.     To  this,  however,  I  mufi: 
apply  the  caution  given  above.— Such  a  wife  may  not  ap- 
pear quite  killing  to  a  fi ranger  on  a  vifit.     There  are   a 
lev/  diftinguifhed  examples  of  women  of  lirfl  rate  under- 
flandlngs,  who  have  all  the  elegance  of  court  breeding  in 
the  parlour,  and  all  the  frugality  and  adlivity  of  a  farmer's 
wife  in  the  kitchen  ;  but  I  have  not  found  this  to  be  the 
cafe  in  general.     I  learned  from  a  certain  author  many 
years  ago,  that  "  a  great  care  of  houihold  affcjrs  generally 
fpoils  the  free,  carelefs  air  of  a  fine  lady  ;"  and  I  have 
feen  no  reafon  to  difbelieve  it  fince. 

Once  more,  fo  flir  as  I  have  been  able  to  form  a  judg- 
m.ent,  wherever  there  is  a  great  and  confelTed  fuperiority 
of  undcrftandlng  on  orte  fide,  with  fome  good  nature  on 
the  other,  there  is  dcmcftic  peace.     It  is  of  little  confe- 


582  Letters  on  Marriage, 

quence  whether  the  fuperiority  be  on  the  fide  of  the  man 
or  woman,  provided  the  ground  of  it  be  manifefl.  The 
fierceft  contentions  are  generally  where  the  jull  title  to 
command  is  not  quite  clear.  I  am  fenfible  I  may  bring 
a  little  ridicule  upon  myfelf  here.  It  will  be  alleged  that 
I  have  clearly  efiablifhed  the  right  of  female  authority 
over  that  fpecies  of  hufbands,  known  by  the  name  of  hen- 
peckt.  But  I  beg  that  the  nature  of  my  pofition  may  be 
attentively  confidered.  I  have  faid,  "  Wherever  there  is 
a  great  and  confeffed  fuperiority  of  underftanding.  Should 
not  a  man  comply  with  reafon,  when  offered  by  his  wife, 
as  well  as  any  body  elfe  ?  Or  ought  he  to  be  againft  reafon, 
becaufe  his  wife  is  for  it?  I  therefore  take  the  liberty  of  refcu- 
ingfrom  the  number  of  hen-peckt,  thofe  who  afk  the  advice, 
andfollow  the  direction  of  their  wives  inmoft  cafes,becaufe 
they  are  really  better  than  any  they  could  give  themfelves 
— referving  thofe  only  under  the  old  denomination,  who, 
through  fear,  are  fubjedl,  not  to  reafon,  but  to  paffion  and 
ill-humor.  I  lliall  conclude  this  obfervation  with  faying, 
for  the  honour  of  the  female  fex,  that  I  have  known  a 
greater  number  of  inftances  of  juft  and  amiable  conduct, 
in  cafe  of  a  great  inequality  of  judgment,  when  the 
advantage  was  on  the  fide  of  the  woman,  than  when 
it  was  on  the  fide  of  the  man,  I  have  known  many 
women  of  judgment  and  prudence,  who  carried  it 
with  the  highefl  refpe6l  and  decency,  to  weak  and  ca- 
pricious hufbands  :  But  not  many  men  of  diftinguifhed 
abilities,  who  did  not  betray,  if  not  contempt,  at  leaft 
great  indifference,  towards  weak  or  trifling  wives. 

Some  other  things  I  had  intended  to  offer  upon  this 
fubjedt,  but  as  the  letter  has  been  drawn  out  to  a  greater 
length  than  I  expelled,  and  they  will  come  in  with  at 
leail:  equal  propriety  under  other  maxims,  I  conclude  at 
prefent. 


Letters  on  Marriage^  583 


LETTER    ir. 

3.  TT  is  by  far  the  fafefl:  and  mofl:  promifmg  way  to 
\^  marry  with  a  perfon  nearly  equal  in  rank,  and 
perhaps  in  age  ;  but  if  there  is  to  be  a  difference,  the 
rifle  is  much  greater  when  a  man  marries  below  his 
rank,  than  when  a  woman  defcends  from  hers. 

The  firfl  part  of  this  maxim  has  been  in  fubllance  ad- 
vanced by  many  writers,  and  therefore  little  will  need 
to  be  faid  upon  it.  I  mull,  however,  explain  its  mean- 
ing, which  is  not  always  clearly  comprehended.  By 
equality  in  rank,  mult  be  underilood  equality  not  in  for- 
tune, but  in  education,  tafte,  and  habits  of  life.  I  do 
not  call  it  inequality,  when  a  gentleman  of  eflate  marries 
a  lady  who  has  been  from  the  beginning  brought  up  in 
the  faii"ie  clafs  of  fociety  with  himfelf,  and  is  in  every  re- 
fpe6l  as  elegant  in  her  fentiments  and  manners,  but  by 
fome  incidents,  that  perhaps  have  lately  happened,  is 
unequal  to  him  in  point  of  fortune.  I  know  that  from 
the  corrupt  and  felfifh  views  which  prevail  fo  generally 
in  the  world,  a  marriage  of  this  kind  is  often  confidered 
as  unequal,  and  an  a6l  of  great  condefcenfion  on  the 
part  of  the  man  ;  but  the  fentiment  is  illiberal  and  un- 
jull.  In  the  fame  manner,  when  a  lady  marries  a  gen- 
tleman of  chara6ler  and  capacity,  and  is  in  every  refpe(5l 
■  fuitable  to  her,  but  that  his  eflate  is  not  equal  to  what  fhe 
might  expert,  I  do  not  call  it  unequal.  It  is  true,  pa- 
rents too  frequently  prefer  circumitances  to  character, 
and  the  female  friends  of  a  lady  at  her  own  difpofal, 
may  fay  in  fuch  a  cafe,  that  fhe  has  made  a  poor  bar- 
gain. But  taking  it  (till  for  granted  that  the  fortune  only  is 
unequal,  I  affirm  there  is  nothing  in  this  circumfrance 
that  forebodes  future  diffention,  but  rather  the  contrary. 
An  a(^  of  generofity  never  produced  a  fretful  difpofition 
in  the  perfon  who  did  it,  nor  is  it  reafonable  to  fuppofe 
it  will  often  have  that  effect  on  the  one  who  receives  it. 
The  importance,  therefore,  of  equality,  arifes  fmgly 
from  this  circumflance — that  there  is  a  great  probability, 


5^4  Letters  on  Marriage. 

that  the  turn,  tafle,  employments,  amufement^,  and  ge- 
neral  carriage  of  the  perfons  fo  intimately  joined,  and  lb 
frequently  together  will  be  mutually  agreeable. 

The  occafion  or  motive  of  iirft  entering  into  the  mar- 
Hag€  contra6t,  is  not  of  fo  much  confequence  to  the  fe- 
licity of  the  parties,  as  what  they  find  after  they  are  fairly 
engaged,  '  and  cannot  return  back.  When  I  vifit  a  new 
country,  my  judgment  of"  it  may  be  influenced  a  little, 
but  neither  much  nor  long,  by  flattering  hoj^es  or  hide- 
ous apprehenfions,  entertained  before  adlual  trial.  It 
has  often  been  faid  that  dillentions  between  married  peo- 
ple, generally  take  their  rife  h"om  very  inconfiderable  cir- 
-cumftances  ;  to  which  1  will  add,  that  this  is  mod  com- 
.monly  the  cafe  among  perfons  of  foirue  fiation,  fenfe, 
and  breeding.  This  may  feem  odd,  but  the  difficulty  is 
eafily  folved.  Perfons  of  this  character  have  a  delicacy 
on  the  fubjecl  of  fo  clofe  an  union,  and  expect  a  fvvqet 
.iiefs  a,nd  compliance  in  matters  that  v/ouid  not  be  mind- 
ed by  the  vulgar;  fo  that  thefmallnefs  of  the  circum- 
,.ilance  appears  in  their  eye  an  aggravation  of  the  pffence. 
\  have  known  a  gentleman  of  rank  and  his  lady  part  for 
life,  by  a  difference  arifing  from  a  thing  faid  at  fupper, 
that  was  not  fo  much  as  obferved  to  be  an  impropriety 
by  three  fourths  of  the  company. 

This,  then,  is  what  1  apprehend  occafions  the  impor- 
tance of  equality  in  rank.  Without  this  equalit}^  they 
do  not  underftand  one  another  fufficiently  for  continual 
intercourfe. — Many  caufes  of  difference  vvill  arifc,  not 
only  fudden  and  unexpected,  but  impofTible  to  be  fore- 
seen, and  therefore  not  provided  againll.  I  mull  alfo 
obferve,  that  an  explication  or  expoftulation,  in  the  cafes 
.here  in  view,  is  more  tedious  and  difficult  than  any  other 
— perhaps  more  dangerous  and  uncertain  in  the  ilfue. 
How  Ihall  the  one  attempt  to  convince  the  other  of  an  in- 
congruity of  behavior,  in  what  all  their  former  ideas 
have  taught  them  to  believe  as  innocent  or  decent,  fome- 
limes  even  laudable  ?  The  attempt  is  often  confidered  as 
.an  infult  on  their  former  ftation,  and  infiead  of  prcduchig 
concord,  lays  the  foundation  of  continual  folicitude,  or 
incre:.fing  averfion.     A  man  may  be  guilty  of  fpeaking 


Leti'ers  on  Marriage.  ^S^ 

v^ery  unadvifedly  through  lEtemperate  rage,  or  niny  per- 
haps come  honie  liLiiliered  with  liquor,  and  his  wife,  if 
prudent,  may  iind  a  feafon  for  mentioning  them,  when 
the  admonition  will  be  received  with  calmnefs,  and  fol- 
lowed by  reformation  ;  but  if  llie  difcovers  her  difplea- 
fure  at  ruliicity  of  carriage,  or  meannefs  of  fentiment, 
1  think  there  is  little  hope  that  it  will  liave  anyefle6l  that 
is  good.  The  habit  cannot  be  mended  ;  yet  he  may 
have  fagacity  enough  to  fee  that  the  wife  of  his  bofom  has 
defpifed  him  in  her  heart. 

I  am  going  to  put  a  cafe.     Suppofe  that  the  late , 

who  acquired  fo  vaft  an  ellate,  had  married  a  lady  of  the 
firltrank,  education,  and  tafle,  and  that  Ihe  liad  learned 
a  [ew  anecdotes  of  his  public  fpeeches — that  he  fpoke  of 
this  here  report  of  that  there  comm.iitee-—  or  of  a  man's 
being  drowned  on  the  coafi:  of  the  Island  of  Pennfylvania. 
Now,  I  defire  to  know  how  flie  could  help  pouting,  and  be- 
ing a  little  out  of  humor,  efpecially  if  he  came  liome  full  of 
inward  fatisfa6\ion,  and  was  honeftly  of  opinion  that  he 
fpoke  equally  as  %vell  as  any  other  in  the  houfe  ?  That 
things  may  be  fairly  balanced,  I  will  put  another  cafe. 
Suppofe  a  gentleman  of  rank,  literature,  and  taile,  has 
married  a  tradefman's  daughter  for  the  fake  of  fortune,  or 
from  defire,  which  he  calls  love,  kindled  by  an  acciden- 
tal glan^ce  of  a  frefli-colored  young  woman  :  Suppofe  her 
never  to  have  had  the  opportunity  of  being  in  what,  the 
^vorld  calls  good  company,  and  in  eonfequence  to  be 
wholly  ignorant  of  the  modes  that  prevail  there  ;  Suppole, 
at  the  fame  time,  that  her  underfranding  has  never  been 
enlarged  by  reading,  or  converfation.  In  fuch  a  cafe, 
how  foon  muil  pafiion  be  fated,  and  what  innumerable 
taufes  of  fliame  and  mortifxation  muft  every  day  pro- 
duce ?  I  am  not  certain  whether  the  difficulty  will  be 
greater,  if  flie  continues  the  manners  of  former  or  at- 
tempts to  put  on  thofe  of  her  prefcnt  ftation.  If  any 
man  thinks  that  he  can  eafily  prefen^e  the  elleem  and  at- 
tention due  to  a  wife  in  fuch  circumftances,  he  will  pro- 
bably  be  miltaken,  and  no  lefs  fo  if  he  expects  to  com- 
municate refinement  by  a  fev/  leiTons,  or  prevent  mifbe- 
havior  by  fretfulnefs,  cr  pevifh  and  fatirical  remarks. 

Vol.  Ill,  4  E 


586  Letters  on  Marriage. 

■  Bot  let  me  come  now  to  the  latter  part  of  the  maxim, 
which  I  do  not  remember  to  have  ever  met  with  in  any 
author-^ — that  there  is  a  much  greater  rifk  when  a  man 
-marries  below  his  rank,  than  when  a  womaYi  marries 
below  her^s.  As  to  the  matter  of  fa6l,  it  depends  entirely 
•on  the  jullnefs  and  accuracy  of  my  obfervations,  of  which 
every  reader  mufl:  be  left  to  judge  for  himfelf.  I  muft, 
however,  take  notice,  that  when  I  fpeak  of  a  woman 
marrying  below  her  ftation,  I  have  no  view  at  all  to  in- 
clude what  there  have  been  fome  examples  of — a  gentle- 
man's daughter  running  away  with  her  father's  footman, 
or  a  lady  of  quality  with  a  player,  this  is,  in  every  in- 
iiaiice,  an  a6l  of  pure  lafcivioufnefs,  and  is,  without  any 
exception  that  ever  I  heard  of  followed  by  immediate 
ihame  and  future  beggary. — It  has  not,  however,  any 
more  connexion  with  marriage,  than  the  tranfadlions  of 
a  brothel,  or  the  memoirs  of  a  kept  miflrefs.  The  truth 
is,  elopements  in  general  are  things  of  an  eccentric  na- 
ture :  And  when  I  hear  of  one,  I  feldom  make  any  fur- 
ther, enquiry  after  the  felicity  of  the  parties.  But  when 
marriages  are  contracted  with  any  degree  of  ^deliberation, 
if  there  be  a  difference  in  point  of  rank,  I  think  it  is 
much  better  the  advantage  fliould  be  on  the  woman's  fide 
than  on  the  man's  ;  that  is  to  fay,  marriages  of  the  firft 
kind  are  ufually  m^ore  happy  than  the  other. 

Suppofmg,  therefore,  the  faCl  to  be  as  now  Hated, 
what  remains  for  me  is,  to  inveiligate  a  little  the  caufes 
of  it,  and  pointed  out  tliofe  circumitances  in  human  tem- 
pers and  chara6lers,  or  in  the  ftate  of  fociety,  which 
give  us  reafon  to  expe£l  that  it  will,  in  moft  cafes,  turn 
out  {o.  Whenever  any  effect  is  general,  in  the  moral  as 
well  as  natural  world,  there  mufl  be  fome  permanent 
caufe,  or  caufes,  fufiicient  to  account  for  it.  Shall  we 
aflign  as  one  reafon  for  it,  that  there  is  tal<:ing,  them  com- 
plexly, more  of  real  virtue  and  commanding  principle  in 
the  female  fex  than  in  the  male,  which  makes  them,  upon 
the  whole,  adl  a  better  part  in  the  married  relation  ?  I 
-will  not  undertake  to  prove  this  opinion  to  be  true,  and 
far  lefs  will  I  attempt  to  refute  or  fliow  it  to  be  falfe. 
Many  autliors  of  great  penetration   have  affirmed  it ; 


Letters  on  Marriage,  587 

and  cloubtlefs  taken  virtue  to  be  the  fame  thing  with  found 
faith  and  good  morals,  much  may  be  faid  in  its  favor. 
But  there  does  not  appear  to  me  fo  great  a  fuperiority  in 
this  refpeft,  as  fully  to  account  for  the  effedl  in  question. 
Befides,  the  advantages  which  men  have  in  point  of 
knowledge,  from  the  ufual  courfe  of  education,  may  per- 
haps balance  the  fuperiority  of  women,  in  point  of  vir- 
tue ;  for  none  furely  can  deny,  that  matrimonial  dif- 
cord  may  not  arife  from  ignorance  and  folly,  as  well  as 
vice.  Allowing,  therefore,  as  much  influence  to  this 
caufe,  as  every  one  from  his  experience  and  obfervation 
may  think  its  due,  I  beg  leave  to  fuggeft  fome  other 
things  which  certainly  do  co-operatp  with  it,  and  aug- 
ment its  force. 

I.  It  is  much  eafer,  in  mofl  cafes,  for  a  man  to  im- 
prove or  rife  after  marriage  to  a  more  elegant  tafle  in  life 
than  a  woman.  I  do  not  attribute  this  in  the  leafl:  to 
fuperior  natural  talents,  but  to  the  more  frequent  oppor- 
tunities he  has  of  feeing  the  world,  and  con verfmg  with 
perfons  of  different  ranks.  There  is  no  infiance  in  which 
the  fphere  of  buiinefs  and  converfation  is  not  more  exten- 
five  to  the  huiband  than  the  wife  ;  and  therefore  if  a  man 
is  married  to  one  of  tafte  fuperior  to  his  own,  he  may 
draw  gradually  nearer  to  her,  though  flie  defcend  very  lit- 
tle. I  think  I  can  recolle£l  more  inilances  than  one  of  a 
man  in  buiinefs  married  at  firfl  to  his  equal,  and,  on 
a  fecond  marriage,  to  one  of  higher  breeding,  when  not 
only  the  houfe  and  family,  but  the  man  himfelf,  was 
fpeedily  in  a  very  different  ftyle.  I  can  alfo  recollect  in- 
ilances in  which  married  perfons  rofe  together  to  an  opu- 
lent eftate  from  almoft  nothing,  and  the  man  improved 
confiderably  in  politenefs,  or  fittnefs  for  public  life,  but 
the  woman  not  at  all.  The  old  goffips  and  the  old  con- 
verfation continued  to  the  very  lail.  Tt  ^,is  not  even 
without  example,  that  a  plain  woman,  raifed  by  the  fac- 
cefs  of  her  hufband,  becomes  impatiem  of  the  fcciety 
forced  upon  her,  takes  refuge  in  the  kitchen,  and  fpends 
moil  of  her  agreeable  hours  M^ith  her  iervants,  from  whom, 
indeed,  ilie differs  nothing  but  in  name.  A  certain  perfon 
ifi  a  trading  city  in  Great-Britain,  from  being  ir^erely  a- 


588  Letters  o?i  Marriage, 

inechanic,, turned  dealer,  and  in  a  courfe  of  years  acquired 
an  immenfe  fortune.  He  had  a  ilrong  defire  that  his  fa- 
mily fliould  make  a  figure,  and  fpared  no  expence  in  pur- 
chafuig  velvets,  fill^s,  laces,  &:c.  but  at  laft  he  found  that  it 
was  loii:  labor,  and  faid  very  truly,  that  all  the  money  in 
Great-Britain  would  not  make  his  wife  and  his  daughters 
ladies^, 

2.  When  a  woman  marries  below  her  rank,  I  think  it 
is,  generally  fpeaking,  upon  better  motives  than  when  a 
a  man  marries  below  his,  and  therefore  no  wonder  that  it 
^fliould  be  attended  with  greater  comfort.    I  find  it  all'erted 
in  fever al  papers  of  the  Spe6lator,  and  I  think  it  mult  be 
admitted  by  every  impartial  obferver,  that  women  are  not 
Jialf  fo  much  governed,  in  their  love   attachments,  by 
beauty,  or  outward  form,  as  men.    A  man  of  a  very  mean 
iigure,  if  he  has  any  talents,  joined  to  a  tolerable  power  of 
fpeech,  will  often  make  him  acceptable  to  a  very  lovely 
woman.  It  is  alfo  generally  thought  that  a  woman  rates  a 
man  pretty  much  according  to  the  efleem  he  is  held  in  by 
his  ownfex :  if  this  is  the  caie,  it  is  to  be  prefuraed  that  v/hen 
a  man  fucceeds  in  his  addrefies  to  a  kdy  of  higher  breed- 
ing than  his  own,  he  is  not  altogether  void  of  merit,  and 
therefore  will  not  in  the  ilfue  difgrace  her  choice.     This 
will  be  confirmed  by  reflecling  that  m.any  fuch  marriages 
mufl  be  with  perfons  of  the  learned  profeffions,  it  is  pall 
a  doubt  that  literature  refines  as  well  as  enlarges  the  mind, 
and  generally  renders  a  mian  capable  of  appearing  with 
tolerable  dignity,  whatever  have  httn  the  place  or  circum- 
fiances  of  his  birth.     It  is  eafy  to  fee  that  the  reverfe  of  all 
this  mull  happen  upon  the   other  fuppofition  :  When  a 
man  marries  below  his  rank,  the  very  be  ft  motive  to  whicli 
it  can  be  attributed,  is  an  admiration  of  her  beauty.   Good 
fcnfe,   and  other  more  valuable  qualities   are  not  eafily 
feen  under  the  dilguife  of  low-breeding,  and  when  they 
are  feen,  have  feldom  jufticc  done  them.     Now  as  beauty 
is  much  more  fading  than  life,  and  fades  fooner  in  a  huf- 
band's  eye  than  any  other,  in  a  little  time  nothing  will 
remain  but  what  tends  to  create  uneafinefs  and  difgull. 

3.  The  pofiefiTion  of  the  graces,  or  talle  and  elegance  of 
manners,  is  a  much  more  important  part  of  a  female  than 


Le tiers  on  Marriage,  589 

a  male  chara6ler.  Nature  has  given  a  much  greater  de- 
gree of  beauty  and  fweetnefs  to  the  outward  form  of  wo- 
men than  of  men,  and  has  by  that  means  pointed  out 
wherein  their  feveral  excellencies  Ihould  coniiil.  From 
this,  in  conjiindlion  with  the  former  obfervation,  it  is  ma- 
nifell,  that  the  man  who  finds  in  his  wife  a  remarkable 
defe6l  in  point  of  politenefs,  or  the  art  of  pleafing,  will  be 
much  more  difap pointed  than  the  woman  who  finds  a 
'like  defe£l  in  her  hufband.  Many  do  not  form  any  ex- 
peftation  of  refinement  in  their  huibands,  even  before 
marriage  :  not  a  few,  if  I  am  not  much  miilaken,  are  ra- 
ther pleafed  than  otherwife,  to  think  that  any  who  enters 
the  houfe,  perceives  the  diiference  between  the  elegance 
of  the  wife,  and  the  plainnefs,  not  to  fay  the  auk^^^a^dnefs 
of  the  huiband.  I  have  obferved  this,  even  dovv^n  to  the 
lowcft  rank.  A  tradefman  or  country  farmer's  wife  will 
fometimes  abufe  and  fcold  her  hufband  for  want  of  order 
or  cleanlinefs,  and  there  is  no  mark  of  inward  malice  or 
ill-humor  in  that  fcolding,  becaufe  fhe  is  fenfible  it  is  her 
proper  province  to  be  accurate  in  that  matter.  I  think 
alf:),  that  the  hufband  in  fuch  cafes  is  often  gratified  iiiftead 
of  being  offended,  becaufe  it  pleafes  him  to  think  that  lie  has 
a  wife  that  does  jufl  as  flie  ought  to  do.  But  take  thethingthe 
other  way,  and  there  is  no  rank  of  life,  from  the  prince  to 
the  peafanl,  in  which  the  huiband  can  take  pleafure  in  a 
v/ife  more  aukward  or  more  fiovenly  than  himfelf 

To  funi  up  the  whole,  if  fome  conformity  or  fnnilarity  of 
manners  is  of  the  utniof]:  confequence  to  matrimonial 
comfort-— if  tafte  and  elegance  are  of  more  confequence 
to  the  wife  than  the  huiband,  accoi'ding  to  their  flation  : 
• — and,  if  it  is  more  difFicult  for  her  to  acquire  it  afcer  mar- 
riage, if  Ihe  does  not  poflefs  it  before — I  humbly  conceive  I 
have  fully  fupported  my  proportion,  that  there  is  a  much 
greater  rifle  in  a  man's  marrying  below  his  liation,  than 
a  woman's  defcending  from  her's. 


59^  Letters  on  Marriage. 


LETTER    III. 

I  HAVE  not  yet  done  with  the  maxims  on  matrimonial 
happinefs ;  therefore  obferve, 

4.  That  it  is  not  by  far  of  fo  much  confequence,  what 
are  the  talents^  temper,  turn  of  mind,  character,  or  cir- 
cumflances  of  both  or  either  of  the  parties,  as  that  there 
be  a  certain  fuitablenefs  or  correfpondence  of  thofe  of  the 
one  to  thofe  of  the  other. 

Thofe  elTay  writers,  who  have  taken  human  nature  and 
life  as  theirgreat  general  fubje6t,have  many  remarks  on  the 
caufes  of  infeh^city  in  the  marriage  union,  as  well  as  many 
beautiful  and  flriking  pidlures  of  what  would  be  juft,  ge- 
nerous, prudent,  and  dutiful  conduQ,  or  their  contraries, 
in  particular  circum fiances.  Great  pains  have  been  taken 
alfo  to  point  out  what  ought  to  be  the  motives  of  c4ioice 
to  both  parties,  if  they  expect  happinefs.  Without  en- 
tering into  a  full  detail  of  what  has  been  faid  upon  this 
fubjedl,  I  think  the  two  chief  competitors  for  preference, 
have  generally  been — good  nature  and  good  fenfe.  The 
advocates  for  the  lirfl  lay,  that  as  the  happinefs  of  married 
people  mull  arife  from  a  continual  interchange  of  kind 
offices,  and^  from  a  number  of  fmall  circumflances,  that 
occur  every  hour,  a  gentle  and  eafy  difpofition — a  temper 
that  is  happy  in  itfelf — muft:  be  the  caufe  of  happinefs  to 
another.  The  advocates  for  good  fenfe  fay,  that  the  fweet- 
nefs  of  good  nature  is  only  for  the  honey-moon ;  that  it 
will  either  change  its  nature,  and  become  four  by  long- 
ilanding,  or  become  wholly  infipid ;  fo  that  if  it  do  not 
generate  hatred,  it  will  at  lead  incur  indifference  or  con- 
tempt ;  Vv^hereas  good  fenfe  is  a  ilerling  quality,  which 
cannot  fail  to  produce  and  preferve  efleem — the  true  foun- 
dation of  rational  love. 

If  I  may,  as  I  believe  mod  people  do,  take  the  pre- 
vailing fentiments  within  the  compafs  of  my  o\^  n  read- 
ing and  converfation,  for  the  general  opinion,  I  think  it 
is  in  favour  of  good  Ibnfe.  And  if  we  mull  determine 
between  thefe  two,  and  decide  which  of  theni  is  of  the 


Letters  on  Marriage.  591 

moll  importance  when  feparated  from  the  other,  I  have 
very  little  to  fay  again fl  the  public  judgment.  But  in 
this,  as  in  many  other  cafes,  it  is  only  imperfe6l  and  ge- 
neral, and  often  ill  underilood  and  falfely  applied.  There 
is  hardly  a  more  noted  faying  than  that  a  man  of  fenfe 
will  never  ufe  a  woman  ill,  w^hich  is  true  or  falfe  accord- 
ing to  the  meaning  that  is  put  upon  the  phrafe,  using  a 
"woman  ill.  If  it  be  meant,  that  he  will  not  fo  probably 
beat  his  wife,  as  a  fool ;  that  he  will  not  fcold  or  curfe 
her,  or  treat  her  with  ill  manners  before  company,  or  in- 
deed that  he  will  not  fo  probably  keep  a  continual  wran- 
gling, either  in  public  or  private,  I  admit  that  it  is  true. 
Good  fenfe  is  the  bell  fecurity  againft  indecorums  of  every 
kind.  But  if  it  be  meant,  that  a  man  will  not  make  his 
wife  in  any  cafe  truly  miferable,  1  utterly  deny  it.  On 
the  contrary,  there  are  many  inflances  in  which  men 
make  ufe  of  their  fenfe  itfelf,  their  judgment,  penetration^ 
and  knowledge  of  human  life,  to  make  their  wives  more 
exquifitely  unhappy.  What  fliall  we  fay  of  thofe,  who 
can  fling  them  with  reflections  fo  artfully  guarded  that  it 
is  impoilible  not  to  feel  them,  and  yet  almoft  as  impoifible 
v/ith  propriety  to  complain  of  them  ? 

I  mull  alfo  obferve,  that  a  high  degree  of  delicacy  in 
fentiment,  although  this  is  the  prevailing  ingredient  when 
men  attempt  to  paint  refined  felicity  in  the  married  Hate, 
is  one  of  the  moll  dangerous  qualities  that  can  be  men- 
tioned. It  is  like  certain  medicines  that  are  powerful  in 
their  operation,  but  at  the  fam.e  time  require  the  utmoll 
caution  and  prudence,  as  to  the  time  and  manner  of  their 
being  applied. — A  man  or  w^oman  of  extreme  delicacy 
is  a  delightful  companion  for  a  vifit  or  a  day.  But  there 
are  many  characters  which  I  would  greatly  prefer  in  a 
partner,  or  a  child,  or  other  near  relation,  in  wdiofe  per- 
manent happiiiefs  I  felt  myfelf  deeply  concerned.  I  hope 
no-body  will  think  me  fo  clowniih  as  to  exclude  fentiment 
altogether.  I  have  declared  oiy  opinion  upon  this  fub- 
je6t,  and  alfo  my  defire  that  the  woman  fhould  be  the  more 
refined  of  the  two.  But  I  adhere  to  it,  that  carrying  this 
matter  to  an  extreme  is  of  the  moll  dangerous  confe- 
quence.     Your  high    fentimentaliils   form  expectations 


592  Letters  on  Marriage, 

which  it  is  inipoflibJe  to  gratify.  The  gallantry  of  coiirt- 
fliip,  and  the  hienseance  of  general  converfation  in  the 
bean  monde^  ftem  to  promife  what  the  downright  reality 
of  matrimony  cannot  afford. 

I  will  here  relate  a  cafe  that  fell  within  mv  obfervation. 
A  perfon  of  noble  birth  had  been  fome  years  married  to 
t  merchant's  daughter  of  immenfe  fortune,  by  which  his 
eilate  had  been  faved  from  ruin.  Her  education  had  been 
as  good  as  money  could  make  it,  from  her  infancy :  fo 
that  ihe  knew  every  mode  of  high  life  as  well  as  he. 
They  were  upon  a  vifit  to  a  family  of  equal  rank,  inti- 
mately conneded  with  the  author  of  this  letter.  Th^ 
jnanner  of  the  man  was  diftinguifhed  and  exemplary. 
His  behavior  to  his  lady  was  with  the  moii  perfec!;!:  deli- 
cacy. He  fpoke  to  her  as  often  as  to  any  other,  and 
treated  her  not  only  with  the  fame  complacency,  but  with 
the  lame  decency  and  referve,  that  he  did  other  ladies. 
To  this  he  added  the  moft  tender  folicitiide  about  her  not 
taking  cold,  about  her  place  in  the  chamber,  and  her  co- 
vering when  going  abroad,  SvC.  &^c.  After  their  depar- 
ture, the  whole  family  they  had  left  excepting  one,  were 
two  or  three  days  expatiating  on  the  beauty  of  his  beha- 
vior. One  lady  in  particular  laid  at  lafl:,  "  Oh !  how 
jiajjpy  a  niarried  Vv'oman  have  1  feen."  1'he  fmgle  dif- 
fenter,  who  was  an  elderly  woman,  then  faid,  "  Well ; 
you  may  be  right ;  but  I  am  of  a  different  opinion,  I  do  not 
like  fo  perfect  and  iiniflied  a  ceremonial  between  perfons 
M'ho  have  been  married  five  or  fix  years  at  leafu  I  ob- 
ierved  that  he  did  every  thing  that  he  ought  to  have  done, 
and  iikewife  that  flie  received  his  civilities  with  much 
dignity  and  good  manners,  but  with  great  gravity.  I 
would  rather  have  feen  him  lefs  pun<!ilual  and  her  more 
cheerful.  If,  therefore,  that  lady  is  as  happy  in  her  heart 
us  you  fuppoie,  1  am  miilaken  ;  that  is  all.  13ut  if  I  were 
to  make  a  bet  upon  iit,  I  would  bet  as  much  up  the 
tradefman  and  his  wife,  according  to  the  common  defcrip- 
tion,  walking  to  church,  the  one  three  or  four  yards  be- 
fore the  other,  and  never  looking  back."  V/hat  did  time 
difcover  ?  That  nobleman  and  his  lady  parted  within  two 
years,  and  never  re-united* 


Letters  oh  Marriage.  593 

Let  me  now  eflablifh  mv  maxim,  that  it  is  not  the  fine 
qualities  of  both  or  either  party  that  will  infure  happinefs, 
•but  that  the  one  be  fuitable  to  the  other.  By  their  being 
fuitable,  is  not  to  be  underftood  their  beinpj  both  of  the 
fame  turn  ;  but  that  the  defc6ls  of  the  one  be  fupplied  or 
fubmitted  to  by  fome  correfpondent  quality  of  the  other. 
I  think  I  have  feen  many  inHances,  in  which  gravity,  fe- 
verity^  and  even  morofenefs  in  a  hufband,  where  there  has 
been  virtue  at  bottom,  has  been  fo  tempered  with  meek- 
nefs,  gentlenefs  and  compliance  in  the  wife,  as  has  pro- 
duced real  and  lading  comfort  to  both.  I  have  alfo  feea 
fome  inftances,  in  which  fournefs,  and  want  of  female  foft- 
nefs  in  a  woman,  has  been  fo  happily  compenfated  by  ea- 
fmefs  and  good  humor  in  a  hufband,  that  no  appearance 
of  wrangling  or  hatred  was  to  be  feen  in  a  whole  life.  I 
have  feen  multitudes  of  inftances,  in  which  vulgarity,  and 
<?ven  liberal  freedom,  not  far  from  brutality  in  a  hufband, 
has  been  borne  with  perfed:  patience  and  ferenity  by  a 
wife,  whoj  by  long  cuilom,  had  become,  as  it  were,  infen- 
fible  of  the  impropriety,  and  yet  never  inattentive  to  her 
own  behavior. 

As  a  farther  illuflration,  I  will  relate  two  or  three  cafes 
from  real  life,  which  have  appeared  to  me  the  mofl  fmgular 
in  my  experience.  I  fpent  fome  time,  many  years  ago, 
in  the  neighborhood  of,  and  frequent  intercourfe  with, 
a  hull)and  and  his  wife  in  the  following  ftate.  She  was 
not  handfome,  and  at  the  fame  time  was  valetudinary, 
fretful  and  peevifh — conilantly  talking  of  her  ailments, 
diffatisfied  with  every  thing  about  her,  and,  what  appeared 
mofi:  furprifing,lhe  vented  thefe  complaints  mofl  when  her 
hufband  was  prefent.  He,  on  the  other  hand,  was  mofL 
affedtionate  and  fy mpathizing,  conilantly  upon  the  watch 
for  any  thing  that  could  gratify  her  defires,  or  alleviate  her 
dillrefles.  The  appearance  for  a  while  furprized  me,  and 
I  thought  he  led  the  life  of  a  flave.  But  at  lafl  I  dif- 
covered  that  there  are  two  ways  of  complaining,  not  fud- 
denly  diftinguifliable  to  com.mon  obfervers :  The  one  is 
an  expreffion  of  confidence,  and  the  other  of  difcontent. 
When  a  woman  opens  all  her  complaints  to  her  hufband, 
in  full  confidence  that  he  will  fympathize  v/ith  her,  and 

Vol.  hi.  4  F 


554  Letters  on  Marriage, 

fteking  the  relief  which  fuch  fympathy  affords,  taking  care 
to  keep  to  the  proportion  which  experience  hath  taught  her 
will  not  be  di (agreeable  to  him,  it  frequently  increafes  in- 
ftead  of  extinguiihing  afledlion. 

Take  another  cafe  as  follows  :  Syrifca  was  a  young  wo- 
inan  the  reverfe  of  a  beauty.  She  got  her  living  in  a  tra- 
ding city,  by  keeping  a  Anall  fliop,  not  of  the  millinary 
khid,  which  is  nearly  allied  to  elegance  and  high  life,  but 
of  common  grocery  goods,  fo  tliat  the  poor  were  her  chief 
tullomers. 

By  the  deatii  of  a  brother  in  the  E.\ll-Indies,  flie  came 
fuddenly  and  unexpectedly  to  a  fortune  of  many  thoufand 
})ounds.  The  moment  this  was  known,  a  knight's  lady 
in  the  neighborhood  deflined  Syrifca  as  a  prize  for  Horatio, 
her  own  brother,  of  the  military  proieflion,  on  half  pay, 
and  rather  pail  the  middle  of  life.  For  this  purpofe  ihe 
made  lier  a  vifit,  carried  her  to  her  houfe,  airifted,no  doubt, 
in  bringing  home  and  properly  feciu'ing  her  fortune  ;  and 
in  as  ihort  a  time  as  could  well  be  expedled,  completed  her 
purpofe.  They  lived  together  on  an  eftate  in  the  country, 
often  vifited  by  the  great  relations  of  the  hulband.  Syrif- 
ca was  good  natured  and  talkative,  and  therefore  often 
betrayed  t]ie  meannefs  of  her  birth  and  education,  but  was 
not  fenfible  of  it.  Good  will  fupplied  the  place  of  good 
breeding  with  her,  and  (lie  did  not  know  the  difterence. 
Koratio  had  gencrofity  and  good  fenfe,  treated  her  with 
the  greatefl  tendernefs,  and  having  a  great  fund  of  face- 
tioufnefs  and  good  humor,  acquired  a  happy  talent  of  gi- 
vinga  lively  or  I'prightly  turn  to  every  thing  faid  by  his  wife, 
or  diverting  the  attention  of  the  conqoany  to  other  fubjedls. 
The  reader  will  probably  fay,  he  took  the  v/ay  that  was 
]:ointed  oiK  by  reafon,  and  was  moft  conducive  to  his  own 
comfort.  I  lay  fo  too  ;  but  at  the  Hime  time  afhrm,  that 
there  are  multitudes  v/ho  could  not,  or  would  not  have 
iolJowed  his  example. 

I  give  one  piece  of  hifloiy  more,  but  with  fome  fear, 
that  nice  readers  will  be  oliended,  and  call  it  a  caricature. 
However,  let  it  go.  j^greilis  was  a  gentleman  of  an  an- 
cient family,  but  the  eilate  was  aimoil  gone  ;  little  more 
^f  it  remained  hut  wliat  he  larmed  himielf,  and  indeed 


Letters  on  Marriage.  595 

his  habitation  did  not  difFer  from  that  of  a  farmer,  but  by- 
having  an  old  tower  and  battlements.  He  had  either  re- 
ceived no  education,  or  had  been  incapable  of  profiting 
by  it,  for  he  was  the  moil  illiterate  perfon  I  ever  knew, 
who  kept  any  company.  His  converfation  did  not  rife 
even  to  politics,  for  he  found  fuch  infuperable  difficulty  in 
pronouncing  the  names  of  generals,  admirals,  countries, 
and  cities,  conflantly  occurring  in  the  newfpapers,  that  he 
was  obliged  to  give  them  up  altogether.  Of  ploughs,  wag- 
gons, cows,  and  horfes,  he  knew  as  much  as  moll  men  : 
What  related  to  thefe,  with  the  prices  of  grain,  and  the 
news  of  births  and  marriages  in  the  parifli  and  neighbor- 
hood, completed  the  circle  of  his  converfation. 

About  the  age  of  forty  he  marned  Lenia,  a  young  wo- 
man of  a  family  equal  to  him  in  rank,  but  fomewhat  fupe- 
rior  in  wealth.  She  knew  a  little  more  of  the  llrain  of 
fafhionable  converfation,  and  not  a  wlilt  more  of  any  thing 
elfe.  She  was  a  llattern  in  her  perfon,  and  of  confequence 
there  was  neither  cleaiilinefs  nor  order  in  the  family. 
They  had  many  children  ;  flie  bore  him  twins  twice — a 
circumftance  of  which  he  was  very  proud,  and  frequently 
boafted  of  it  in  a  manner  not  over  delicate  to  thofe  who 
had  not  been  fo  fortunate  in  that  particular.  They  were 
both  good  naturcd  and  hofpitable  ;  if  a  ftranger  came  he 
was  made  heartily  welcome,  though  fometimes  a  little  in- 
commoded by  an  uproar  among  the  children  and  the  dogs, 
when  ftriving  about  the  fire  in  a  cold  day ;  the  nolle  was, 
however,  little  lefs  diflbnant  than  the  clamors  of  Agrellis 
himfelf,  when  rebuking  the  one,  or  chaftening  the  other, 
out  of  complaifance  to  his  guefts.  The  couple  lived  many 
years  in  the  moft  perfect  amity  by  their  being  perfe6^1y 
fuitable  the  one  to  the  other,  and  I  am  confident  not  a 
woman  envied  the  wife,  nor  a  man  the  hufband,  while  the 
union  lafled. 

It  is  very  eafy  to  fee  from  thefe  examples,  the  vaft  im- 
portance of  the  temper  and  manner  of  the  one,  being  truly 
fuitable  to  thofe  of  the  other.  If  I  had  not  given  hiilories 
enough  already,  I  could  mention  fome  in  which  each 
party  I  think  could  have  made  fome  other  man  or  woman 
perfectly  happy,  and  yet  they  never  could  arrive  at  hap- 


59^  Letters  on  Marriage, 

plnefs,  or  indeed  be  at  peace  with  one  another.  Certain- 
ly, therefore,  this  fliould  be  an  object  particularly  attended 
to  in  courtihips^  or  while  marriage  is  on  the  tap'is^  as  po* 
liticians  fay. 

If  Hook  out  for  a  wife,  I  ought  to  confider,  not  whether 
a  lady  has  fine  qualities  for  which  fhe  ought  to  be  eileemed 
or  admired,  or  whether  flie  has  fuch  a  deportment  as  I 
will  take  particular  delight  in,  and  fuch  a  tafte  as  gives  rea- 
fon  to  think  fhe  will  take  dehght  in  me  ;  I  may  pitch  too 
high,  as  well  as  too  low,  and  the  ilh.ie  may  be  equally  un- 
fortunate. Perhaps  I  ihall  be  told  there  lies  the  great 
difficulty.  How  ihall  we  make  this  difcovery  ?  In  time 
of  youth  and  courtfhip,  there  is  {o  much  fiudied  atten- 
tion to  pleafe,  from  intereiled  views,  and  fo  much  reilraint 
from  fafhion  and  the  obfervation  of  others,  that  it  is  hard 
to  judge  how  they  will  turn  out  afterwards. 

This  I  confefs  to  be  a  confiderable  difficulty,  and  at  the 
fame  time  greateil  upon  the  man's  fide.  The  m.an  being 
generally  the  eldeft,  his  charader,  temper  and  habits  may 
be  more  certainly  known. — Whereas  there  are  fometime^ 
great  difappointments  on  the  other  fide,  and  that  happily 
both  ways.  I  am  able  juft  now  to  recollecl  one  or  two 
inftances  of  giddy  and  foolifii,  nay,  of  idle,  lazy,  drowfy 
girls,  who,  after  marriage,  felt  themfelves  interefted,  and 
became  as  fpirited  and  adlive  heads  of  families,  as  any 
whatever,  and  alfo  fome  of  the  mofi:  elegant  and  exem- 
plary, who,  after  marriage,  fell  into  a  languid  ftupidity, 
and  cpntraded  habits  of  the  moil  odious  and  difgufiful 
jkind.  Thefe  inftances,  however  are  rare^  and  thofe  who 
will  take  the  pains  to  examine,  may  in  general  obtain  fa- 
tisfaftion.  It  is  alfo  proper  to  obferve,  that  if  a  man  finds 
it  difficult  to  judge  of  the  temper  and  character  of  a  wo- 
man, he  has  a  great  advantage  on  his  fide,  that  the  right 
of  feleQlon  belongs  to  him.  He  may  aflc  any  woman  he 
pleafes,  after  the  moil  mature  deliberation,  and  need  aflc 
no  other ;  whereas  a  woman  mull  make  the  befi:  choice 
fhe  can,  of  thofe  only  who  do  or  probably  will  afi^  her. 
But  with  thefe  reflexions  in  our  view,  what  fliall  we  fay 
of  die  inconceivable  folly  of  tiiofe,  who,  in  time  of  court- 
iliip,  are  every  now  and  then  taking  things  in  high  dud- 
geon j  and  fometimes  M^ry  great  fubmiffions  are  nccefiary 


Letters  on  Marriage^  59? 

to  make  up  the  breaches  ?  If  fuch  perfons  many,  and  do 
not  agree,  fhall  we  pity  them  ?  I  think  not.  After  the 
moil:  ferene  courtfhip,  there  may  poffibly  be  a  rough 
enough  paflage  through  life ;  but  after  a  courtlhip  of 
llorms,  to  expedt  a  marriage  of  calm  weather,  is  certainly 
more  than  common  prefumption  ;  therefore  they  ought  to 
take  the  confequences. 

On  the  whole,  I  think  that  the  calamities  of  the  mar^ 
ried  ftate  are  generally  to  be  imputed  to  the  perfons  them- 
felves  in  the  following  proportion  : — Three-fourths  of  the 
man  for  want  of  care  and  judgment  in  the  choice,  and 
one-fourth  to  the  woman  on  the  fame  fcore.  Suppofe  a 
man  had  bought  a  farm,  and  after  a  year  or  two,  Ihould, 
in  converfation  with  his  neighbor,  make  heavy  complaints 
how  much  he  had  been  difappointed,  I  imagine  his  friend, 
might  fay  to  him,  did  you  not  fee  this  land  before  you. 
bought  it  ?  O  yes,  I  faw  it  often.  Do  you  rx-t  undcr- 
fcand  foils  ?  I  think  I  do  tolerably.  Did  )  ou  liot  examine 
it  with  care  ?  Not  io  much  as  I  fhoukl  have  done  ;  ftand- 
ing  at  a  certain  place,  it  looked  admirably  well ;  the  fences 
too  were  new,  and  looked  exceedingly  neat ;  the  houfe 
had  been  juft  painted  a  ftone  colour,  wdth  pannelling; 
the  windov/s  were  large  and  elegant ;  but  I  negiedled  en- 
tirely to  examine  the  fufhciency  of  the  materials,  or  the 
difpofition  of  the  apartments.  There  were  in  the  month 
of  April  two  beautiful  fprings,  but  fmce  I  have  lived  here 
they  have  been  dry  every  year  before  the  middle  or  June.^ 
Did  you  not  inquire  of  thofe  who  had  lived  on  the  place 
of  the  permanency  of  the  fprings  ?  No,  indeed,  I  omitted 
it*  Had  you  the  full  meafure  you  were  promifed  ?  Yes, 
every  acre. — Was  the  right  complete  and  valid  ?  Yes^ 
yes,  perfectly  good  ;  no  man  in  America  can  take  it  from 
me.  Were  you  obliged  to  take  it  up  in  part  of  a  bad  debt? 
No,  nothing  like  it.  I  took  fuch  a  fancy  for  it  all  at  Once, 
that  I  peltered  the  man  from  week  to  week  to  let  me  have 
it.  Why  really  then,  fays  his  friend,  I  think  you  had 
better  keep  your  complaints  to  yourfelf.  Curfmg  and 
fretfiilnefs  will  never  turn  ilones  into  earth,  or  fand  into 
loam  ;  but  I  can  afTure  you,  that  frugality,  indufny,  and 
good  culture,  will  make  a  bad  farm  very  tolerable,  and  an 
indifferent  one  truly  good. 


C    599    ! 


«0M  0000  oooe  aoeo  oo«o  oooe  eooe  oooe  ooe«  oooo  ooeo  oooo  oooo  4oeo  eoM  ooso  OOM  eooo  eow  MM  MN  COM  MM  MM  i 

OOOe  «0M  OOM  oooo  0004     MO  oooo  OOM  0009  too*  oooo  0009  0»M  oooo  OOM  OCM  MOO  OOM  OOM  CMO  OOM  09M  MM  MM  i 


A 


PASTORAL  LETTER 


FROM    THE 


SYNOD  OF  NEW- YORK  AND  PHILADELPHLV, 


To  the  Congregations  under  their  Care ;  to  he  read  from 
the  Pulpits  on  Thursday^  June  29,  1775,  being  the 
Day  of  the  general  Fast. 


Very  Dear  Brethren, 

THE  Synod  of  New -York  and  Philadelphia,  being 
met  at  a  time  when  public  affairs  wear  fo  threat- 
ning  an  alpe£t,  and  when  (unlefs  God  in  his  fovereign 
Providence  fpeedily  prevent  it)  all  the  horrors  of  a  civil 
war  throughout  this  great  continent  are  to  be  apprehend- 
ed, were  of  opinion,  that  they  could  not  difcharge  their 
duty  to  the  numerous  congregations  under  their  care,  with- 
out addrefling  them  at  this  important  crifis.  As  the  firm 
belief,  and  habitual  recollection  of  the  power  and  prefence 
of  the  living  God,  ought  at  all  times  to  poffefs  the  minds 
of  real  Chriflians,  fo  in  feafons  of  public  calamity,  when 
the  Lord  is  knonvn  by  the  judgment  which  he  executeth^ 
it  would  be  an  ignorance  or  indifference  highly  criminal 
not  to  look  up  to  him  with  reverence,  to  implore  his  mercy 
by  humble  and  fervent  prayer,  and,  if  poffible,  to  prevent 
his  vengeance  by  unfeigned  repentance. 


6oo  A  Pastmml  Leitef, 

We  do,  therefore,  brethren,  befeech  yoa  in  the  in  of!  \ 

earneft   manner,  to   look  beyond  the  immediate  authors  '^ 

either  Of  your  fufferings  or  fears,  and  to  acknovv^ledge  the  I 

holinefs  and  juftice  of  the  Almighty  in  the  prefent  vifita-  '*i 

tion.  He  is  righteous  in  all  his  ways^  and  holy  in  all  his 
ivorks, — Affliction  springethnot  out  of  the  dust. —He  doth 
not  afflict  nvillingly^  nor  grieve  the  childre?i  of  men  ;  and 
therefore,  it  becomes  every  perfon,  family,  city,  and  pro- 
vince, to  humble  themfelves  before  his  throne,  to  confefs 
their  fins,  by  Vi'hich  they  have  provoked  his  indignation, 
and  intreat  him  to  pour  out  upon  all  ranks  a  fpirit  of  re- 
pentance and  of  prayer.  Fly  alfo  for  forgivencfs  to  the 
atoning  blood  of  the  great  Redeemer,  the  blood  of  sprink- 
ling which  speaketh  better  things  than  thai  of  Abel,  Re- 
member and  confefs  not  only  your  fins  in  general,  but 
thofe  prevalent  national  offences  which  may  be  juftly  con- 
fidered  as  the  procuring  caufes  of  public  judgments  ;  par- 
ticularly profanenefs  and  contempt  of  God,  his  name, 
fahbaths  and  fanduary  ;— pride,  luxury,  uncleannefs,  and 
neglect  of  family  religion  and  government,  with  the  de- 
plorable ignorance  and  fecurity  which  certainly  ought  to 
he  imputed  to  this  as  their  principal  caufe.  All  thefe  are, 
among  us,  highly  aggravated  by  the  ineftimable  privileges, 
which  we  have  hitherto  enjoyed  without  interruption  fmce 
the  firft  fettlement  of  this  country.  If  in  the  prefent  day 
of  dillrefs  we  expedl:  that  God  will  hear  our  fupplications, 
and  interpofe  for  our  protection  or  deliverance,  let  us  re- 
member what  he  himfelf  requires  of  us  is,  that  our  pray- 
ers (liould  be  attended  with  a  fmcere  purpofe,  and  thorough 
endeavor  after  perfonal  and  family  reformation  :  If  thou 
prepare  thine  hearty  and  stretch  out  thy  hand  toivards  him; 
If  iniquity  be  in  thine  hand^  put  it  far  away^  and  let  not 
imckedness  dvoell  in  thy  tabernacles^  Job  xi.  13, 14. 

Tlie  Synod  cannot  help  thinking,  that  this  is  a  proper 
time  for  prefTmg  all  of  every  rank,  ferioufly  to  confider  the 
things  that  belong  to  their  eternal  peace.  Hoftilities, 
long  feared,  have  now  taken  place, — the  fword  has  been 
drawn  in  one  province, — and  the  whole  continent,  with 
hardly  any  exception,  feem  determined  to  defend  their 
rie"hts  bv  force  oi  arms.     If,  at  the  fame  time,  the  Britilli 


A  Pastoral  Letter,  60 1 

miniftry  fliall  continue  to  enforce  their  claims  by  vio- 
lence, a  lading  and  bloody  conteft  mull  be  expedled  : 
'Surely  then  it  becomes  thole  who  have  taken  up  arms, 
and  profefs  a  willingnefs  to  hazard  their  lives  in  the  caufe 
of  liberty,  to  be  prepared  for  death,  which  to  many  mud 
be  the  certain,  and  to  every  one  is  a  poliible  or  probable 
event. 

We  have  long  fcen  with  concern,  the  circumdances 
which  occafioned,  and  the  gradual  increafe  of  this  un- 
happy  difference.     As  miniders  of  the  gofpel  of  peace, 
we  have  ardently  widied  that  it  could,  and  often   hoped 
that  it  would  have  been  more  early  accommodated.     It  is 
well  known  to  you  (otherwife  it  vv'ould  be  imprudent  in- 
deed thus  publicly  to  profefs)  that  we  have  not  been  in- 
;llrumental  in  enflaming  die  minds  of  the  people,  or  urg- 
ing them  to  aclls  of  violence  and  diforder  : — Perhaps  nC" 
.indance  can  be  given  on  fo  interedinga  fubje6l,  in  which 
political  fentiments  have  been  fo  long  and  fo  fully  kept 
.from  the  pulpit,  and  even  malice  itfelf  has  not  charged 
us  with  laboring  from  die  prefs  ;  but  things  are  now  come 
to  fuch  a  date,  that  as  we  do  not  widi  to  conceal  our  opl- 
^  pions  as  men  and  citizens,  fo  the  relation  we  dand  in  to 
,.you  feemed  to  make  the   prefent  improvement  of  it  to 
-your  fpiritual  benefit  an  indifpenfible  duty.     Suffer  us 
.  then  to  lay  hold  of  your  prefent  temper  of  mind,  and  to 
exhort,  efpecially  the  young  and  vigorous,  by  aiTuring 
them,  that  there  is  no  foldier  fo  undaunted  as  the  pious 
-  man,  no  army  fo  formidable  as  thofe  who  are  fuperior  to 
the  fear  of  death.     There  is  nothing  more  awful  to  think 
;of,  than  that  thofe  whofe  trade  is  v/ar  dioukl  be  defpifers 
V  of  the  name  of  the  Lord  of  Bods,  and  that  they  diould  ex- 
V.pofe.  the mfe Ives  to  the  imminent  danger,  of  being  imme- 
diately fent  from  curdng  and  cruelty  on  earth,  to  tlie  blaf- 
pheming  rage  and  defpairing  horror  of  the    infernal   pit. 
-Let  therefore  every  one,  v/hofrom  generofity  ot  Ipirit,  or 
•benevolence  of  heart,  offers  himfelf  as  a  champion  in  his 
country's  caufe,  be  perfuaded  to  reverence  the  name,  and 
walk  in  the  fear  of  i\iQ. Prince  of  the  kings  of  the  earthy 
and  then  he  may,  with  ;the;  molt  unihaken  firmnefs,  ex- 
'pedl  the  iffuje  either  uivi£tory  or  death. 
Vol.  Ill,  4  G 


6o2  '      A  Pastoral  Letter. 

Let  it  not  be  forgotten,  that  though  for  the  wife  ends  of 
his  Providence,  it  may  pleafe  God,  for  a  feafon,  to  fuffer 
his  people  to  He  under  unmerited  oppreffion,  yet  in  gene- 
ral we  may  expect,  that  thofe  who  fear  and  ferve  him  in 
fmcerity  and  truth,  will  be  favored  with  his  countenance 
and  llrength.  It  is  both  the  chara6ter  and  the  privilege  of 
the  children  of  God,  that  tliey  call  upon  hhn  in  the  day  of 
trouble^  and  he,  who  keepeth  coijenant  and  truth  fore'oer^ 
has  faid,  that  his  ears  are  always  open  to  their  cry.  We 
need  not  mention  to  you  in  how  many  inftances  the  event 
in  battles,  and  fuccefs  in  w^ar,  have  turned  upon  circum- 
ilances  which  were  inconfiderable  in  themfelves,  as  w^ell 
as  out  of  the  power  of  human  prudence  to  forefee  or  dire6t, 
becaufe  we  fuppofe  you  firmly  believe,  that  after  all  the 
counfels  of  men,  and  the  mod  probable  and  promifmg 
means,  the  Lord  will  do  that  ivhich  seemeth  him  good ; 
nor  hath  his  promife  ever  failed  of  its  full  accomplilhment; 
the  Lord  is  with  you  while  ye  he  with  him^  and  if  yc 
seek  him^  he  will  be  found  of  you  ;  but  if  ye  forsake  hini^ 
he  will  forsake  you^  i  Chron.  xv.  2. 

Alter  this  exhortation,  which  we  thought  oiirfelves  cal- 
led upon  to  give  you  at  this  time,  on  your  great  interell, 
the  one  thing  needful^  we  fliall  take  the  liberty  to  offer  a  few 
advices  to  the  focieties  under  our  charge,  as  to  their  pub- 
lic and  general  condu(^  ;   and 

Firft,  In  carrying  on  this  important  flruggle,  let  every 
opportunity  be  taken  to  exprels  your  attachment  and  re- 
fpedl  to  our  fovereign  king  George,  and  to  the  revolution 
principles  by  which  his  augult  family  was  feated  on  the 
Eritifh  throne.  We  recommend,  indeed,  not  only  alle- 
giance to  him  from  duty  and  principle,  as  the  firfl  magif- 
trate  oftheempii^,  but  eileem  and  reverence  for  the  per- 
fon  of  the  prince,  who  has  merited  well  of  his  fubjeds  on 
many  accounts,  and  who  has  probably  been  mifled  into 
the  late  and  prefent  meafures  by  thofe  about  him  ;  neither 
have  we  any  doubt,  that  they  themfelves  have  been  in  a 
g'-eat  degree  deceived  by  falfe  information  from  interefted 
penoQs  refiding  in  America.  It  gives  us  the  greateil  plea- 
lure  to  fay,  from  our  own  certain  knowledge  of  all  belong- 
ing to  our  communion,  and  from  the  belt  means  of  infor- 


A  Pastoral  Letter,  603 

xnation,  of  the  far  greateft  part  of  all  denominations  in 
this  country,  that  the  prefent  oppofition  to  the  meaiures 
of  adininiftration  does  not  in  the  leaft  arife  from  difafFcc- 
tion  to  the  king,  or  a  defire  of  feparation  from  tiie  parent 
Hate.  We  are  happy  in  being  able  with  truth  to  affirm, 
that  no  part  of  America  would  either  have  approved  or 
permitted  fuch  infalts  as  have  been  offered  to  the  fove- 
reign  in  Great-Britain.  We  exhort  you,  therefore,  to 
continue  in  the  fame  difpofition,  and  not  to  fuffer  oppref- 
fion  or  injury  itfelf  eaiily  to  provoke  you  to  any  thing 
which  may  leem  to  betray  contrary  fentiments  :  let  it 
ever  appear,  that  you  only  defu'e  the  prefervation  and  fe- 
curity  of  thofe  rights  which  belong  to  you  as  freemen  and 
Britons,  apd  that  reconciliation  upon  thefe  terms  is  your 
moil  ardent  defire. 

Secondly,  Be  careful  to  maintain  the  union  which  at 
prefent  fubfiUs  through  all  the  colonies ;  nothing  can  be 
more  manifefl  than  that  the  fuccefs  of  every  meafure  de- 
pends on  its  being  inviolably  preferved,  and  therefore,  we 
hope,  that  you  will  leave  nothing  undone  which  can  pro- 
mote that  end.    In  particular  as  the  Continental  Congrefs, 
now  fitting  at  Philadelphia,  confifts  of  delegates  chofen  in 
the  moil  free  and  unbiaffed  manner,  by  the  body  of  the 
people,  let  them  not  only  be  treated  with  refpe^l,  and  en- 
couraged in  their  difficult  fervice — not  only  let  your  pray- 
ers be  offered  up  to  God  for  his  dire6tion  in  their  proceed- 
ings— but  adhere  firmly  to  their  refolutions  ;  and  let  it  be 
feen  that  they  are  able  to  bring  out  the  whole  ftrength  of 
this  vaft  country  to  carry  them  into   execution.     We 
•would  alfo  advife  for  the  fame  purpofe,  that  a  fpirit  of 
candor,  charity  and  mutual  efteem  be  preferved,  and  pro- 
moted towards  thofe  of  different  religious  denominations. 
Perfons  of  probity  and  principle  of  every  profeffion,  fliould 
beunitedtogetherasfervants  of  the  fame  mafter,and  the  ex- 
perience of  our  happy  concord  hitherto  in  a  ftate  of  liberty 
fliould  engage  all  to  unite  in  fupport  of  the  common  in- 
tereft ;  for  there  is  no  exannple  in  hiftory,  in  which  civil 
liberty  was  deftroyed,  and  the  rights  of  confcience  pre- 
ferved entire. 


6o4  Pastoral  Letter. 

Thirdly,  We  do  earneflly  exhort  and  befeech  the  focie- 
ties  under  our  care  to  be  flri(5t  and  vigilant  in  their  pri- 
vate government,  and  to  watch  over  the  morals  of  their 
feveral  members.  It  is  with  the  utmoft  pleafure  we  re- 
iiiiud  you,  that  the  laft  Continental  Congrefs  determined 
to  difcourage  luxury  in  living  public  diveifions,  and  gam- 
ing of  all  kinds,  which  have  fo  fatal  an  influence  on  the 
morals  of  the  people.  If  it  is  undeniable,  that  univerfal 
profligacy  makes  a  nation  ripe  for  divine  judgments,  and 
is  the  natural  mean  of  bringing  them  to  ruin,  reformation 
of  manners  is  of  the  utmoil  neceflity  in  our  ].)refent  diftrefs. 
At  the  iauie  lime,  as  it  has  been  obferved  by  many 
eminent  writers,  that  the  cenforial  pov/er,  which  had  for 
its  objedl  the  m.anners  of  the  pubuc  in  the  ancient  free 
ilates,  was  abfohitely  neceffary  to  their  continuance^  we 
cannot  help  being  of  opinion,  that  the  only  thing  which  we 
have  now  to  fupply  the  place  of  this  is  the  religious  dif- 
cipline  of  the  feveral  fe6ls  warh  refpeiSt  to  their  own  mem- 
bers ;  fo  that  the  denomination  or  profellion  which  fhall 
take  the  moil  effedual  care  of  the  initrudlion  of  its  micm- 
bers,  and  maintain  its  difcipline  in  the  fulleil  vigor,  will 
do  the  inoft  effential  fervice  to  the  whole  body.  For  the 
very  fame  reafon  the  greatefl  iervice  which  magiflrates  or 
perfons  i-^,  authority  can  do  with  refpeft  to  the  religion  or 
rnorals  of  the  people,  is  to  defend  and  fecure  the  rights  of 
Confcience  in  the  mod  equal  and  impartial  manner. 

Fourthly,  We  cannot  but  recommend,  and  urge  in  the 
warmell  manner,  a  regard  to  order  and  the  public  peace  ; 
and  as  in  many  places,  during  the  confufions  that  prevail, 
legal  proceedings  have  become  difficult,  it  is  hoped,  that 
all  perfons  will  confcientiouily  pay  their  jult  debts,  and  to 
the  utmofl  of  their  power  ferve  one  another,  fo  that  the 
evils  infeparable  from  a  civil  war  may  not  be  augmented 
by  wantonnefs  and  irregularity. 

Fifthly,  We  think  it  of  importance,  at  this  time,  to  re- 
commend to  all  of  every  rank,  but  efpecially  to  thofe  whq 
may  be  called  to  adtion,  a  fpirit  of  humanity  and  mercy. 
E'Dtry  battle  of  the  warrior  is  with  confused  noise^  and 
garments  rolled  in  blood.  It  is  impoflible  to  appeal  to  the 
iVprd  without  being  expofed  to  many  fcenes  of  cruelty 


Pastoral  Letter,  605 

and  llaughter  ;  but  it  is  often  obferved  that  civil  wars  are 
carried  on  with  a  rancor  and  fpirit  of  revenge  much 
greater  than  thofe  between  independent  flates.  The  in- 
juries received  or  fuppofed  in  civil  wars  wound  more 
deeply  than  thofe  of  foreign  enemies  ;  it  is  therefore  the 
more  neceffar)'-  to  guard  againft  this  abufe,  and  recom- 
mend that  meeknefs  and  gentlenefs  of  fpirit,  v/hich  is  the 
noblefl  attendant  on  true  valor.  That  man  will  fight  mofl 
bravely,  who  never  fights  till  it  is  neceflary,  and  who 
ceafes  to  fight  as  foon  as  the  neceffity  is  over. 

Laftly,  We  would  recommend  to  all  the  focieties  un- 
der our  care  not  to  content  themfelves  with  attending  de- 
voutly on  general  fails,  but  to  continue  habitually  in  the 
exercife  of  prayer,  and  to  have  frequent  occafional  vo- 
luntary meetings  for  folemn  interceffion  with  God  on  the 
important  trial.  Thofe  who  are  immediately  expofed  to 
danger  need  your  fympathy  ;  and  we  learn  from  the  fcrip- 
tures,  that  fervency  and  importunity  are  the  very  charac- 
ters of  that  prayer  of  the  righteous  man  which  avallcth 
much. 

We  conclude  with  our  earneft  prayer,  that  the  God  of 
heaven  may  blefs  you  in  your  temporal  and  fpiritual  con- 
cerns, and  that  the  prefent  unnatural  difpute  may  be 
fpeedily  terminated  by  an  equitable  and  lafling  fettle- 
|)ient  on  gonftitutional  principles. 


C  607   3 


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tooc  oeoo  oeo9  oeoo  woo  0000  0000  0000  0000  0000  occs  0000  0000  0000  oeoo  000}  ooeo  0000  0000  oooo  eooa  cooe  com  com  ooo* 


RECANTATION 


O    F 


BENJAMIN  TOWNE 


The  foll<rmng  was  printed  in  Loiidojfs  New-Tok  Pack- 
ety  published  at  Fishkill^  October  isty  1778. 


THE  following  facls  are  well  known,  tfl:.  That  J 
Benjamin  Towne  iifed  to  print  the  Pennfylvania 
Evening  Pofl,  under  the  prote(Stion  of  Congrefs,  and  did 
frequently,  and  earneflly  folicit  fundry  members  of  the 
faid  Congrefs  for  diilertations  and  articles  of  intelligence, 
profeiTmg  myfelf  to  be  a  very  firm  and  zealous  friend  to 
American  liberty.  2d.  That  on  the  Engliih  taking  pof- 
feffing  of  Philadelphia,  I  turned  fairly  round,  and  print- 
ed  my  Evening  Poll  under  the  protection  of  General 
Howe  and  his  army,  calling  the  Congrefs  and  all  their 
adherents,  rebels,  rafcals,  and  raggamuffins,  and  feveral 
other  unfavory  names,  with  which  the  humane  and  po- 
lite Englifli  are  pleafed  to  honor  them.  Neither  did  I 
ever  refufe  to  infert  any  diflertation  however  fcurrilous, 
or  any  article  of  intelligence  fent  to  me,  although  many 
of  them  I  well  knew  to  be,  as  a  certain  gentleman  ele- 
gantly exprelfes  it,  facts  that  nei^er  happened,  3d.  Tliat 
1  am  now  willing  and  defirous  to  turn  once  more,  to 


6o^         ,  Recantation  of 

unfay  all  that  I  have  laft  faid,  and  to  print  and  publifli 
for  the  -United  States  of  America,  which  are  likely  to  be 
iippermoil,  againll  the  Britifh  tyrant ;  nor  will  I  be  back- 
ward in  calling  him,  after  the  example  of  the  great  and 
eminent  author  of  Common  Senfe,  The  Royal  BrutQ^ 
or  giving  him  any  other  appellation  flill  more  approbri- 
ous,   if  fuch  can  be  found. 

The  fa6ts  being  thus  ftated,  (I  will  prefume  to  fay  al- 
together fairly  and  fully)  I  proceed  to  obferve,  that  I  am 
not  only  profcribed  by  the  Prefident  and  Supreme  execu- 
tive council  of  Pennfylvania,  but  that  feveral  other  per- 
fons  are  for  reprobating  my  paper,  and  alledge  that  in- 
llead  of  being  fufFered  to  print,  I  ought  to  be  hanged  as 
a  traitor  to  my  country  On  this  account  I  have  thought 
proper  to  publilh  the  following  humble  confeffion,  decla- 
ration, recantation  and  apology,  hoping  that  it  will  af- 
fuage  the  wrath  of  my  enemies,  and  in  fome  degree  re- 
ftore  me  to  the  favor  and  indulgence  of  the  public.  In 
the  fir  ft  place  then,  I  defire  it  may  be  obferved,  that  I  ne- 
ver was,  nor  ever  pretended  to  be  a  man  of  chara<fl:er, 
repute  or  dignity.  I  was  originally  an  underftrapper  to 
the  famous  Gallo'way  in  his  infamous  fquabble  with 
Goddard,  and  did  in  that  fervice  contra6l  fuch  a  habit 
of  meannefs  in  thinking,  and  fcurrility  in  writing,  that 
nothing  exalted^  as  brother  Bell  provedore  to  the  fen- 
timentalifts,  would  fay,  could  ever  be  expe6led  from  me. 
Now,  cha.nging  fides  is  not  any  way  furprifmg  in  a  per- 
son anfwering  the  above  defcription.  I  remember  to  have 
read  in  the  Roman  hiftory,  that  when  Cato  of  Utica,  had 
put  himfelf  to  death,  being  unable  to  furvive  the  dilTolu- 
ti  on  of  the  republic,  and  the  extindion  of  liberty;  ano- 
ther fenator  of  inferior  note,  whofe  name  I  cannot  recol- 
lect, did  the  fame  thing.  But  what  thanks  did  he  re- 
ceive for  this  ?  The  men  of  refieftion  only  laughed  at 
his  abfurd  imitation  offo  great  a  perfonage,  and  faid — he 
might  have  lived  though  the  republic  had  come  to  its  pe- 
Yiod;  Had  a  Hancock  or  an  Adams  changed  fides, 
•I  grant  you  they  would  have  defer ved  no  quarter,  and  I 
believe  would  have  received  none  ;  but  to  pafs  the  fame 
-judgment  on  the  conduCl  of  an  obicure  printer  is    mil- 


Btnjamin  Towne.  009 

arable  reafoning  indeed.  After  all,  why  fo  much  noifc 
about  a  trifle  ?  What  occafion  is  there  for  the  public  to 
pour  out  all  its  wrath  upon  poor  Towne  ;  are  turn- coats 
fo  rare  ?  Do  they  not  walk  on  every  fide  ?  Have  we  not 

feen  Dr.  S ,    J A ,   T C ,  and 

many  others  who  were  firft  champions  for  liberty  ;  then 
friends  to  government, — and  now  difcover  a  laudable 
inclination  to  fall  into  their  ranks  as  quiet  and  orderly 
fubjefts  of  the  commonwealth  of  Pennfylvania.  The 
rational  moralifts  of  the  laft  age  ufed  to  tell  us  that  therd 
was  an  effential  diiFerence  between  virtue  and  vice,  be- 
eaufe  there  was  an  efleniial  difference  to  be  obferved  in 
the  nature  and  reafon  of  things.  Now,  with  all  due  def- 
erence to  thefe  great  men,  I  think  I  am  as  much  of  a 
philofopher  as  to  know  that  there  are  no  circumftances  of 
a6lion  more  important  than  thofe  of  time  and  place. 
Therefore  if  a  man  pay  no  regard  to  the  changes  that 
may  happen  in  thefe  circumftances,  there  will  be  very 
little  virtue,  and  ftill  lefs  prudence  in  his  behavior. 
Perhaps  I  have  got  rather  too  deep  for  common  readers, 
and  therefore  fhall  afk  any  plain  quaker  in  this  city  what 
he  v/ould  fay  to  a  man  who  fhould  wear  the  fame  coat  in 
fummer  as  in  winter  in  this  climate  ?  He  would  certain- 
ly fay,  "  Friend,  thy  wifdom  is  not  great."  Now  whe- 
ther  I  have  not  had  as  good  reafon  to  change  my  condu6t 
as  my  coat,  fmce  laft  Januarj'^,  I  leave  to  every  impar- 
tial perfon  to  determine.  2.  I  do  hereby  declare  and 
confefs,  that  when  I  printed  for  Congrefs,  and  on  the 
fide  of  liberty  it  was  not  by  any  means  from  principle,  or 
a  defire  that  the  caufe  of  liberty  Ihould  prevail,  but 
purely  and  fimply  from  the  love  of  gain.  I  could  have 
made  nothing  but  tar  and  feathers  by  printing  againfl 
them  as  things  then  flood.  I  make  this  candid  acknow- 
ledgment not  only  as  a  penitent  to  obtain  pardon,  but 
to  fhow  that  there  was  more  confiftency  in  my  condudl 
than  my  enemies  are  willing  to  allow.  They  are  pleafed 
to  charge  me  with  hypocrify  in  pretending  to  be  a  whig 
when  I  was  none.  This  charge  is  falfe  ;  I  was  neither 
whig  nor  tory,  but  a  printer.  I  deteft  and  abhor  hypo- 
crify. I  had  no  .mo:e  regard  for  General  Howe  or 
Vol,  IIL  4  H 


6 10  Recantation  of 

General  Glinton,  or  even  Mrs.  Lowring  or  any  other 
of  the  chaste  nymphs  that  attended  the  Fete  Champetre, 
ahas  Mifchianza  when  I  printed  in-their  behalf,  than  for 
the  Congrefs  on  the  day  of  their  retreat.  It  is  pretended 
that  I  certainly  did  in  my  heart  incline  to  the  luiglifh, 
becaufe  I  printed  much  bigger  lies  and  in  greater  number 
for  them,  than  for  the  Congrefs.  This  is  a  moft  falfe  and 
uni.uft  infmuation.  It  was  entirely  the  fault  of  the  Con- 
grefs themfelves,  who  thought  fit  (being  but  a  new  po- 
tentate in  the  earth)  to  be  much  more  raodeft,  and  keep 
nearer  the  truth  than  their  adverfaries.  Had  .any  of 
them  brought  me  in  a  lie  as  big  as  a  mountain  it  lliould 
have  ilTued  from  my  prefs.  This  gives  me  an  opportu- 
nity of  fliowing  the  folly  as  well  as  malignity  of  thofc 
who  are  a6tuated  by  party  fpirit ;  many  of  them  have 
affirmed  that  I  printed  monftrous  and  incredible  lies  for 
General  Howe.  Now  pray  what  harm  could  incredible 
lies  do  ?  The  only  hurt,  I  conceive,  that  any  lie  can  do 
is  by  obtaining  belief,  as  a  truth  ;  but  an  incredible  lie  can 
obtain  no  belief  and  therefore  at  leafl  muft  be  perfedlly 
harmlefs.  What  will  thofe  cavillers  think,  if  I  Ihould 
turn  this  argument  againll  them,  and  fay  that  the  moft 
eifedlual  way  to  dlfgrace  any  caufe  is  to  publilh  monftrous 
and  incredible  lies  in  its  favor.  In  this  view,  I  have 
not  only  innocence,  but  fome  degree  of  merit  to  plead. 
However,  take  it  which  way  you  will,  there  never  was  a 
lie  publifhed  in  Philadelphia  that  could  bear  the  leaft 
comparifon  with  thofe  publifhed  by  James  Rivington  in 
New- York.  This  in  my  opinion  is  to  be  imputed  to 
the  fuperiority  not  of  the  printer,  but  of  the  prompt  or 
or  promptors.  I  reckon  Mr.  Tryon  to  have  excelled  in 
that  branch  ;  and  probably  he  had  many  coadjutors. 
What  do  you  think  of  40,000  Ruffians,  and  20,000 
Moors,  which  Moors  too  were  faid  by  Mr.  Rivington  to 
be  dreadful  among  the  women  ?  As  alfo  of  the  boats 
building  at  the  forks  of  Monorigahala  to  carry  the  Con- 
grefs down  the  Ohio  to  New-Orleans  ?  Thefe  w^ere 
Iwingers.— As  to  myfelf  and  friend  Humphreys,  we  con- 
tented ourfelves  with  publiftiing  affidavits  to  prove  that 
t^ie  king  of  France  was  determined  to  preferve  the  friend- 


Benjamin  Toivne,  611 

fliip  that  fubfifled  between  him  and  his  good  brother  the 
king  of  B'.ngland,  of  which  he  has  given  a  new  proofs 
by  entering  into  and  communicating  his  treaty  with  the 
United  States  of  America.  Upon  the  whole  I  hope  the 
public  will  attribute  my  condu6l,  not  to  difafFedlion,  but 
to  attachment  to  my  own  interefl  and  defire  of  gain  in 
my  profeflion  ;  a  principle,  if  I  miflake  not,  pretty  ge- 
neral and  pretty  powerful  in  the  prefent  day. 

3dly.  I  hope  the  public  will  confider  that  I  have  been  2l 
timorous  man,  or,  if  you  will,  a  coward,  from  my 
youth,  fo  that  I  cannot  fight, — my  belly  is  fo  big  that  I 
cannot  run, — and  I  am  fo  great  a  lover  of  eating  and 
drinking^  that  I  cannot  llarve.  When  thofe  three  thing-s 
are  confidered  I  hope  they  will  fully  account  for  my  paft 
condudl,  and  procure  me  the  liberty  of  going  on  in  the 
fame  uniform  tenor  for  the  future.  No  juft  judgment 
cr»n  be  formed  of  a  nian's  character  and  conduct  unlefs 
every  circumftance  is  taken  in  and  fairly  attended  to  ; 
.1  therefore  hope  that  this  juliice  will  be  done  in  my  cafe. 
I  am  alfo  verily  perfuaded  that  if  all  thofe  who  are  cow^ 
ards  as  well  as  myfelf,  but  who  are  better  off  in  other 
refpe6ls,  and  therefore  c/^/z  and  r/(?  run  whenever  danger 
is  near  them,  would  befriend  me,  Ifhouldhave  no  incon- 
fiderable  body  on  my  fitk.  Peace  be  with  the  Congrefs 
and  the  army  ;  I  mean  no  reflections  ;  but  the  world  is 
a  wide  field,  and  I  wifh  every  body  would  do  as  they 
would  be  done  by.  Finally,  I  do  hereby  recant,  draw 
back  eat  in,  and  fwallow  down  every  word  tliat  I  have 
ever  fpoken,  written  or  printed  to  the  prejudice  of  the 
United  States  of  America,  hoping  it  will  not  only  fatis- 
fy  the  good  people  in  general,  but  alfo  all  thofe  fcatter- 
brained  fellows,  who  call  one  another  out  to  fhoot  piltols 
in  the  air,  while  they  tremble  fo  much  that  they  cannot 
hit  the  mark.  In  the  mean  time  I  will  return  to  labor 
with  affiduity  in  my  lawful  calling,  and  eflavs  and  intel- 
ligence as  before  fliall  be  gratefullv  accepted  by  the  pub- 
lip's  moft  obedient  humble  fervant. 

BENJAMIN  TOWNE, 


N 


MM  eoea  oaa*  om»  eeoa  ooto  mm  eeat  eeee  c«M  oeee  eaee  eoM  eoi*  sOca  eew  «ese  edw  ecoo  mm  mm  com  «Ma  oom  oew 
eooo  COM  eoM  oooo  ooee  ocoo  oooo  ivoe  aooo  eeoo  oooo  oooo  ooect  oooo  cooo  eooo  oooo  0009  :«oo  0000  bosc  0000  rooo  oo«o  0000 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES, 


The  Publisher  regrets  not  having  it  in  his  power  to  pre^ 
sent  to  the  public  a  complete  list  of  his  patrons — Many 
gentlemen  %vho  have  obtained  subscribers^  have  not  for- 
ivarded  their  subscription  papers  in  time  for  the  Press — 
He  however  takes  this  public  method  of  acknowledging 
with  gratitude y  the  encouragement  afforded  by  the  f oh 
lowing  very  respectable  characters^  throughout  the 
United  States, 


New -Hampshire. 

Hon.  Samuel  Livermore,  Efq. 
Col.  Mofes  Woodward 
Rev.  Eliflia  Thayer,  Kingflon 


Massachusetts, 

His  Excel.  John  Adams,  Prefident 
of  the  United  States  2  copies 

Hon.  John  Lowell,  Elq.  Roxbury 
Samuel  Philips,  Eiq.  AndoYer 
Oliver  Wendell,  Eiq.  Boflon 
Jofiah  Quincey,  Elq.     do. 
William  Philips,  Eiq.  do. 
Francis  Dana,  Efq.  do. 

Hev.  David  Tappan,  D.  D.  Gam- 
bridge 

Rev.  Jofeph  Eckley,  D.  D.  Bofton 

David  Hyilop,  Efq.  Brooklin 

Rev.    Thaddeus     Mafon    Harris, 
Dorchefter 

Rev  Abiel  Abbot,  Haverhill 

Mr  Jofeph  Kurd,  Charledown 
Oliver  Holden,         do. 

Rev.  Jedediah  Morfe,  do. 

Ifaac  Warren,         do. 

John  Davis,  Efq.  do. 

Hon.  Samuel  Dexter  Efq. 

Hon  Silas  Lee    Ef  j. 

Hon  Wiiiiara  Shepard  Efq. 


Mr.  John  Larkin,  Charle flown 
Eliphalet    Pearibn,    ProfelTor    in 
Harvard   Univerfity  at  Gam- 
bridge 


Rhode-Island, 

Hon.  John  Brown 

Hon  Chrillopher  G.  Ghaniplin 


Vermont, 

Hon.  L.  R.  Morris 


Connecticut 

MeiTrs.  Hudibn  8c  Goodwin,  book- 
fellers,   Hartfoid,  (6  copies) 

Rev.  Matthias  Burnet,  Norwalk 

Rev  Timothy  Dwight,  Preiident 
cf  Yale  Gollege 

Rev  Samuel  Blatchford,  Stratfield 


New-Tork, 

His  Excel.  John  Jay,  Governor 
Hon.  James  Watfon 
Hon  Jonas  Flatt 
Hon  John  Thomfon 
Rev,  Dr.  John  Rodgers 
John  R.  B.  Rogers,  M.  D. 
John  Broome,  Efq.r 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 


Samuel  Bayard,  Efq.  New  Rochelle 

Hon.  Egbert  BenioJl 

Hon  Morgan  Lewis 

Hon  Jacob  Radcliffe 

Hon  James  Keat 

Rev. Nathan  Wocdhull,  Newtown, 

Long-Iflund 
Mr.  Cornelius  Davis,  bookfeller 
Mr  John  Mills 
Williain  Neilibn,  merchant 
Kev.  George   Faitoute,  Jifmaica, 

Long-Ifland 
Mr.  John  Bingham 
Rsv.  Methufelah  Baldwin 
Mr.  Leonard  Blucher 
David  Iloiack,  M.  D. 
Mr.  George  T.  Hopkins,  bookfel- 

ler,  (6  copies) 

James  Hyer 
Rev.  Samuel  Miller 
Dr.  Peter  Wilibn,  profeffbr  in  CJo- 

lumbia  College 
Mr.  George  Janeway 

Tunis  Joralmaw,  Brooklyn 
Nicholas  R.  Gowenhoven,  Elq.  do. 
Peter  Van  Pelt,  ftudent  of  divini- 
ty, Flatbufli 
Mr.  Comfort  Sand,  do. 

Albert  Oblenis,  do. 
Rev.   Philip  Duryee,  Narrows 

George  Barculoo,     do. 
James  Inglis,  lludent  of  divinity 
Mr.  Abraham  Labugb 
liev.  Dr,  D.  Romeyn,  Schenedady 
Rev  Robert  Smith,  do. 

Mr.  Lather  Hal  fey,  do. 

Cornelius  D.  Schamahorn  do. 

John  L.  Zaiinlkie,       do. 
Rev.  Jonathan  Edwards,  preiident 

of  Union  College,        do. 
Mr.  John  C.  Toll,  do. 

Harman  H.  Vidder,   d^. 

Dirk  Van  Vigen,  do. 

Tofeph  C.  Yates,  Efq,  do. 

Mr.  Robert  Loague,  do. 

James  Adair,  do. 

Rev,  Samuel  Smith,  Sarato.C'a 
Rev  James  V.  C.  Romeyn,  Green- 

budi 
Rev  W inflow  Paige,  Srhaytic;jkr 
Rev  Abriiham   Van    Horn,  Juhn- 

ibn  townlliip 


Rev.  Robert  M'Dowcll,  Northum-, 

berland 
Andrew  Yates,  profefibrof  Unioij 

College,  Schenectady 
Mr.   Silas  vVcod 
''-ol.  Henry  Rutgers 
Mr.  Moles  Rogers,  merchant 
Hon.  John  3.  Hrbert 
Mr.  William    VV.  Woolfeyj  mer- 
chant 
Samuel  Ofgood,  Efq. 
Thomas  Mackaneis,  Efq, 
Rev.  Gerardus  A.  Kuypeis 
Col.  Anthony  Pofl- 
Rev.  John  H.    Livingflop,  D.  D. 
William  S.    Johnfon,  prefident  ot 

(yjlumbia  Goilege 
Mr.  James  R.  Smith,  merchant 

James  "cott,  merchant 
Hon.  John  Lanfmg,  jun. 
Rev.  AVilliam  Linn,  D.  D. 
John  Keefe,  Efq. 
Mr.  Divie-  Bithune,  merchant 
Daniel  Phoenix,  Efq.  chanvberlainc 

of  the  city 
Mr.  Charles  Snowden,  printer 
Mrs.  Sarah  Malcom 
Mr.  Andrew  Smith,  merchant 

James  Moriifon,  merchant 

John  Thompfon,  do. 

Alexander  M'Gregor,  do. 

George  Scott,  do. 

Charles  Durgec,  do. 

Colin  Gillcfpie,  do. 

Richard   Varick,    Efq.    mayor    of 

the  city 
Mr.  7'hnmas  Buchanan,  merchant 
Uev.  Abraham  Beach 
Rev  John  M'Knight,  D.  D. 
Mr,  John  Turner,  jun,   mcchant 
Anthony  L.  Blccker,  merchant 
John  1  horn  p  Ton 

Richard  Cunningham 
Rev.    David    S.    Bogart,    A.   M. 

South?- mptoi')  L.  1. 
Mr.  David  Aucbenoote,  merchant 

Thcim^s  Stevenfon 
Mrs,  Elizabeth  H^llet 
Rev.  |ohn  C.  Kuuze,  D.  D. 
Mr.  J  hn  Murray,  mediant 

William  Willlbn,  do. 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES, 


Hciu  Ezra  L,  Hommidieu,  South- 
hold,  L.  I. 
Hon  Dirck  Ten  Broeck,  Albany 
Rev,  Eliphalet  Nott,  do 

Mr.  David  Gordon,  merchant 
Rev.  John  B.  Romeyn,  Rhuibeck 
Rev.  John  B.  Johnl'on,  Albany 


New -Jersey, 

His  Excel.  Richard   Howell,  Go- 
vernor 

Hon.  Aaron  Kitchell 

Hon  John  Condit 

Hon  James  Linn 

Hon  Jonathan  Dayton 

Hon  Franklin  Davenport 

Hon  Elilha  Boudinot,  New- Ark 

Rev.  Samuel   S.  Smith,   preiident 
of  the  college  at  Princeton 

Rev  John  Duryee,  Raritan 

Rev  Afa  Hilyer,  South-Hanover 

Mr.  William   Griffith,  Burlington 
Aaron   Woodruftj  Trenton 
Robert  Hunt 

James  Ewing  Eiq 

Ifaac  Smith,  E(q, 

Samuel  Leake  Elq 

Mr  Peter  Gordon 

John  Beatty  IL'ic^ 

Mr  B.  Smith 
J.  Rhea 

Rev.  '1  homas  ArmQrong 

I^ucius  Horatio  Stockton,  Efq. 

Rev.  Andrew  Hunter 

Mr.  Thomas  Yardley 
John  Morris 

George  M'GuiHn  Bordeuton 
A.  Hunn.  do. 

John  Rutherford,       do. 
Daniel  Marfli,  Effex 
George  Anderion,  Burlington 
Ephraim    Martin,  Middlefcx 
John  Outwater,  Bergen 
John  Lambert,  Hnntington 
Abraham    Kitchel,     Morris- 
town 
William  Parrett,  Salem 
Afhcr  Holmes,  Monmouth 
Henry  Topliagen,  Haleniack 
L.  W,  Stockton,  Flcmington 
Peter  Hunt,  Lamberton 
Azarias  Hunt;  do. 


Mr.  George  Henry-,  Lamberton 

Jolhua  L.Howell, Woodbury 

J.  A.  Pearfon,  Princeton 

Ifrael  S.   Plarris,  Somerfet 

Frederick  Frelinghufen,  do. 

Peter  Hanfon,  Trenton 

John  M'Lean,  Princeton 

John  N.  Simpfon,     do. 

Gonnant  Cone,  do. 

Thomas   P.  Johnfon,  do.  (2 
copies) 

John  l^hompfon 

Nicholas  Everet 

C'harles  T.  Mercer 

Chriflopher  H.  Stryker 

John  W.  Smith 

J.  H.  Hobert 

J.;)hn  M'MuUin,  Benfalem 

Robert  Vooihus,  Princeton 

John  Harrifon 

Richard  Stockton 

Frederic  Beailey 

Henry  Kollock 

W.  Waihington 

'i'homas  C.  Alexander 

Francis  Sinnickion 

John  G.  Gamble 

Adam  S.  Dand ridge 

William  Knox,  jun, 

Wilmot  S.  Gebbcs 

Thomas  M.  Bay  ley 

Richard  D.  Ba)ieyx 

Joleph  Granier 

John  Middieton 

Edward  Watts 

Edmund  Penn 

W^illiam  B.  Wilfoa 

Henry  Watkins 

Charles  Lewis 

James  Caldwell 

John  Brown,  jun. 
'       John  Johnfon 

Noah  Crane 

Samuel  WimbilTi 

Ala  K.  Lesvis 

John  W.  Ramfay 

Clement  Eaily 

Geoige  Emlen 

John  Hand 

Ennion  W.  Skelcou 

Littleton  Robins,  jun. 

Richard  H.  Henderiba 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 


Mr.  Edmund  Bruyn,  Princeton 

Klias  Elmaker 

James  Bunyao, 

ChrUlopher  Longftreet 

Van  Polanen 
Gen.  Joi'eph   Bloomfield,  BArling- 

ton 
Mr.  William  Cox,  jun. 

George  Fainter 
Mifs  Lyd.a  Riche 
Rev.  C.  C.  Wharton 
Mr.  Peter  llill 

Chrillian  Heils 
.     William  Griffith 

Robert  Hunt,  Trenton 
Capt.  Abraham  Gurling  do. 
Gen.  James  Giles,  Bridgetown 
Kev.  Joieph  Clark,  Brunfwick 
Hon.  William  Patteribn 
Hon  Andrew  Kirkpatrick 
John  Bayard  Efq 
John  Neilfon  Efcj 
Dr.  Mofes  Scott 
Mi.  James  Richmond,  merchant 

William  Lawibn,       do, 

Perez  Bowley,  do. 

John  Pool  do. 

Ifaac  W.  Crane,  Efq  attorney  at 

law 
William  P.  Deare  Efq  do. 
Mr  John  Plumb 

John  A.  Myer 
X)r.  Adam  Anderibn 
lion.  James  H.  Imlay 
John  Imlay  Eiq 
Robert  Montgomery  Efq 
('ol.  Samuel  Quay,  merchant 
Mr.  Richard  Plorfefull 

Henry  Harper 
Dr.  Charles  Smith 
Mr.  Jacob  Klady 

Simon  Hyllier 

Andrew  Lyle 

Anthony  W,  White, 

Jacob  Heudricklbn 

John  Quay 
Capt.  Job  Stockton 
Mr.  Garret  D.  Wikoff 
Rev.  George  S.  Woodhull 
Mr.  Jncob  Filher 
Rev.  David  Barclay 
.Mr.  iVbraham  Vuu  Nefte 


Rev.  Ira  Condi£l 

Rev  Elias  Van  Bunfcooten 

Rev  Benjamin  Dubois 

Rev  James  S.  Cannon 

Rev  Henry  Pothemus 

Rev  John  M.  Van  Harlingen 

Rev  John  S.  Vredenburgh 

Rev  llaac  Van  Dozen 

Rev  Matthew  La  Rue 

Rev  Benjamin  Lindfay 

Mr.  James  Schureman 

Frederick  Van  Dyke 

John  Harrifon,  Princeton 

James  Hamilton 

Edmund  Elmendorf  (2  copies) 
Cliofophic   Society  at  the  Naffau 

Plall 
Mifs  Grace  Little 

Mary  Guthbert 
Mr.  Daniel  Agnew 

Jofias  Fergufon 

Benjamin  B.  Hopkins,  Tren- 
ton (2  copies) 
Mifs  Catherine  Smith,  do. 

Rev.  William  Boyd 
Rev  Ebenezer  Grant,  New-Brun{» 

wick 
Dr.  Samuel  Kennedy,  Hardwich 
Gen.   William    Helm,   Hackett's 

Town 
Jofcph  Gafton,  Efq.  Hardwick 
Abraham  &  Ifaac  Shaver,  do. 
Mr.  George  John  Armflrong,  do, 

Neheniiah  Dunham  do. 

Rev.  Jofeph  Uue,  Hopewell 
Rev  David  Comfort,  Kingfton 
Rev  Matthew  L.    Perrie,    Mon- 
mouth 
Mr.  David  BilTiop,  Am  well 
Rev.  John  Cornell,  Allentown 
Mr.  Benjamin  B.  Hopkins,  Prince- 
ton 

Plenry  G.  Wifner,  do. 


Pennsylvania, 

His  Excel.  Thomai  M'Kean,  Go. 

vernor 
Hon.  William  Bingham 
Hon  James  Rols 
Hon  Robert  Brown 
Hon  Thomas  Hartley 
Hon  Jofeph  Heiiier 


SUBSCRIBERS*  NAMES. 


Hon.  Jolm  A.  Hanna 

Hon.  Peter  Muhlenberg^ 

Hon.  John  Smilie 

Hon.  Robert  Wain 

xHon.  H.  '.Voods 

James  M'Henry,  Efq.  fecretary  of 

war   Philadelphia 
Timothy  Pickering,  Efq. 
Rev.  Afhbel  Green 
Rev.  V\i  illiam  Marfhal 
Rev.  Jacob  Janeway 
Rev.  William  White,  bifhop 
Rev.  William  Rogers 
Rev.  James  Abercrombic 
Rev.  John  B.  Linn 
Rev.  Samuel  Magaw 
Rev.  Samuel  Blair 
Rev  John  Anderfon 
Rev.  John  B.  Paterfon,  Danville 
Rev.  William  Latta  Great  Valley 
Rev.  Samuel  Ralfton,  Wafhington 

county 
Rev.  James  Dunlap,  Fayette  county 
Ebenezer  Hazard  Efq,  Philadelphia 
Benjamin  Rufli,  M.  D. 
William  Shippen,  M.  D, 
John  G.  Otto,  M.  D. 
Mrs.  Mary  MoycS 
Mr.  William  Haflet 
Cornelius  W.  Stafford 
Mrs.  M'Cullough. 
Samuel  Finlay. 
Jofeph  K.  Milnor, 
William  Smiley. 
Richard  Folwell. 
Mrs.  Smith* 
Mr.  James  A.  Neal§ 

John  Lockwood 

William  Hill 

Francis  Thonikint 

Charles  W.  Goldfbo rough 

John  O'Gonner 

Jofeph  Parrot 

Robert  Ralfton 

Hugh  Jackfon 

Robert  Smith 
Ebenezer  Fergufon,  Efq; 
Mr.  John  Strawbridge 
John  W.  Vanclcave,  £fq. 
Mr.  Francis  ShalUis 

James  Finley 

Jofpeh  Dennie 
Vol.  hi. 


Mr.  James  Robinfoa 

Samuel  M'Clemoi^ 

George  Mifain 

John  H.  Hobart 

David  Jackfon,  jmu 

George  Barclay 

Knos  Bronfon 

Jeffe  Wain 
Edward  Pennington,  Efq. 
Mr.  John  Ormrod 

Silas  Engles,  jun. 

John  Harris 

John  C.  Kelfcy 
MifsBitha  Earl 
Ifaac  Heylin,  M.  D, 
Mr.  Charles  Evans 

Philip  Dick 

John  Hanley 

David  Hall 

William  M'Culley 

Thomas  Jacquet 

George  Phillips, 

Thomas  Wotherfpoon 

Hugh  Kelley 

Francis  Peoples 

Samuel  Hodgdon 

William  Buckell 
H.  H.  Brackenridge,  Elq. 
Mr.  John  Levis,  Springfield 
Rev.  Charles  Neibit,  prefident  of 

Dickinfon  college,  Garlifle 
Mrs.  Ifabella  Oliver 
Rev.  John  Linn 
Mr.  Armftrong  Brandon 

Charles  M'Clurc 
William  Lyon,  Efq. 
Mr.  John  P.  Thomfon 

Archibald  Loudon 
Rev.  Thomas   M'Pheriin,  Frank- 
lin county 
Mr.  George  Crawford 

John  Wray 

Thomas  Cellar 

John  Work 

William  DufField 

James  Wray 

William  Davis 

John  Scott 

James  Buchanan 

Patrick  Canipb&ll 

Henry  Work 

John   King 
4  I  ^ 


SUBSCRIBERS*  NAM^S*. 


fcifeph  Vanlear 
George  Acre 
John  Johnfon 
John  and  Davii  Kennedy 
Hon.  James  Riddle 
Hon.  Jarnes  Chambers 
Mr.  Robert  Jo.hnloii 
James  M'ViefTon 
Benjamin  Cliamba'S 
Mr.  Jani'es  Orbifon,   Franklin  co. 
ISIicholas  Clopper 
Edward  Crawibrd 
William  M.  Brown 
George  Clarke 
William  Allilbn 
"William  Magaw 
Archibald  Rankin 
Robert  M'CIanahaa 
James  Poe 
Rev.  John  Black,  York  county 
\V?.lter  Smitii,  Elq. 
William  M'Pheribn,  Efq. 
"Mr.  James  Scott 
'I  h..'mas  Ewing',  Elq. 
Mr.  Matthew  Longwelt 
Alexander  Irwin 
John  Car  rick 
Mcumaduke  Wilfon 
Rev.  Jofliua  Williams 
Rev.  Francis  Laiai 
Mr.  Hugh  ^Xatfon 
Mew  William*  Faxton 
jumes  Adair,  iUid.  in  div. 
Mr.  Richard  B  owii 
Moies  M'Clean 
John  Fofler 
David.Willbn 
Robert  Slemoi^s 
Hugh  Kmg 
Aley.ander  C'cbcan,  Efq. 
Mr.  David  Edie 
John  Dickfon,  Eiq. 
Alexander  Ruffel,  Efq. 
Mr.  Benjamin  Reed 

Samuel  Knox 
WllUam  Gillitands,  Elq. 
Mr.  Willi^im  Scott 

San.uel  M'Callough 
Patrick  M'Koig 
Abraham  Scott 
William  FlilF 
William  M'Gonghy 


Samuel  Withero^V 

John  Robinfon 

JolVphM'Ginley 

William  Bighani 

James  Bnrd 

]ohn  Reid 
Rev.  'David  M 'Cn  naughy 
Mr.  G;aham  }.  Bouchir,  Philadel- 
phia 
Mr.  Daniel  Wiftar,  Philadelphia 

John  Cooke 

Jam.es  Darrach 

Patrick  Kerr  Rogers 

George  Gibbons 

Matthew  SivAih 

Jc.hn  P.  Peckworth 
Capt.  Abraham  Gurling 
Mr.  John  C.  Keliey 

'i  homas  W.   Tallman 

Blair  M'Clenachan 

Jchn  Davidfon 

William  H.  Harrifon 

Samuel  Hvndman 
Mrs.  Mary  M'Allifter 
John  Buyers,  Efq.  Sunbury 
bnniel  Stroud,  Elq.   Stroudlbourg 
Mr.  William   Trimble,  Concord 
Rev.  John  Young,   Green  Cafiie 

Dclaivave* 

Rev.  John  Ewing  Latta 
Mr.  John   Stites,  lower  towr.fiiip, 
Cape  May 


Maryhmd. 

Hon.  Gabriel  Chrillie 

Hen.  W'iUiam  Craik 

lion.  Samuel  Smith 

Mr.  James  Cowen 

Rev.  John  B.   Slevnons,   Scmo.rcJ 

county 
Mr.  Samuel  Ker 

Jnmes  Wilibn 

James  Laird 

Thomas  G.  Fountain 

George  W.  Jackibn 

John  C.  Wilfon 

William  Handy 

Dcnwood  Wilibn 

Jchn  Landreth 


SUBSCRinERS  '  NAMES. 


Mr.   John  Done 

Peter  Sharp,  Eafton 
Kev.  Patrick  Eliion,  Baltimore 
Mr.  James  H.  M'Culloch,  do. 

Nathaniel  Nefoitt,  VValliing- 
ton  county- 
Mr.  John  Martin,  Baltimore 
Luther  Martin,  Elq. 
Mr.  John  Martin,   merchant   tay- 

lor,  Baltimore 
Mr.  James  Martin,  do. 
James   Prieftly,  prefident  of  Balti- 
more Academy 
Ifaac  Edroonflon,  merchant 
Barnabas  Redman,  printer 
Ebenezer  Finley,  merchant 
Mr.  Joel  Munfon 

Robert  R.  Richardfon 


{• 


Virginia, 

His  Excel.  George  Wafhington, 
late  lieutenant-general  of  the 
armies  of  the  United  States 

His  Excel.  Thomas  Jefferfon,  vice 
prefident  of  the  United  States 

Mr.  Samuel  Annin,  Harper's  ferry 

Mr.  Samuel  L.  Campbell,  Lexing- 
ton 
Matthew  Houflon,  (6   copies) 

Rev.  Robert  Wilfon 

Rev.  Dr.  Mure,  Alexandria 

James  Gilmore,  Efq. 

Charles  Campbell,  Efq. 

Mr.  William  Lyle 

Rev.  George  Baxter 

Mr.  David  Shields 

James  Gold,  (2  copies) 

Rev.  Daniel  Blaine 

Gen.    Samuel   Blackburn,    Rock- 
bridge 

Col.  James  M'Dowell 

Col.  John  M'Conky 

Rev.  Archibald  Alexander,  Prince 
Edward,  (2  copies) 

Rev.  Archibald  M'Robert 

Mr.  James  Morton 

Rev,  Matthew  Lyle 

Rev.  Drury  Lacy- 
Mr.  Jacob  Woodfon 

Col.  Philemon  Holcombe 

Mr.  Conrad  Speece,  jun.. 
John  H,  Rice 


'  Mr.  James  Aiken 

Richard  Gordon 
Rev.  Mofcs  Hoge,  Shepherd's  town 
Mr.  John  Morrow 

John  Kearfle)- 

Kobert  Wilcox,  Martinfburg; 
Mlfs  Fanny  Campbell,   Berkeley 
Mr.  Jac  b  Vandaran 

John  Venofdal 
Mr.  John  Melvile,  Berkeley 
ohn   Taylor 
ames  Sherncy 
Rev.  Samuel  Brown,  Rockbridge 
Mr.  Andrew  Finley 

Jofeph  White 

James  M'Chcnp; 

William  M'Pheters 
Rev.  Nafii  Le  Grand,  Fredeiick  co,. 
Mils  Ann  Vance. 
Mr.  James  D.  Vance 

S.  Simral 

James  Chipley 

John  Gordon 

William  Vance 

Henry  Beatty 

Beatty  Garfon 

Jof.  Gamble. 


North-  Carolina. 

Hon.  Timothy  Blood  worth 
Rev.  John  Anderfon 
Rev,  James  Hall,  LedcU  countr- 
Mr.  'Jhomas  Flail  - 

James  King 

Andrew  Pickens 
Richard  King,  Efq, 
Mr.  Hugh  Hall 
William  Sharp,  Efq. 
Mr.  James  H.  Hull 

Jofeph  Killpatrick 

John  Cochran 
Rev.  D.  Kilpatrick, 
Rev,  Lewis  T.  Wilfoii 
Mr.  Alexander  Ewing" 

Enos  Sheirill 
Thomas  Morrifon,  Efc. 
Mr.  John  V/allis 

Reuben  Alexander 

Abraham  Hill 
M.  Matthews,  Efq. 
,  Mr.  John  M'Clellan 
Williacn  Stevenfon,  Efq 


SVBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 


Rev.  David  Caldwell,  Guilford  co. 
Rev.  William  Hodge 
Rev.  John  Robinfon 
Rev.  Andrew  Caldwell 
Air.  Jofeph  Hodge 

Ezekiel  Ciirrie 

Duncan  Buie 
Rev.  William  Pa-flej 
Rev.  Robert  T  ate 
Rev.  William  Moore 
Mr.  Edward  Pharr 
Mr.  William  Denny,  Guilford  co. 

James  Denny 

Hugh  Shaw 

John  Matthews 

Murdock  M'Mlllaii 

Malcolm  M'Nair 

Murdock  Mui*phy 

Michael  Montgomery 

Daniel  Brown 

Simon  Landreth. 

South-  Carolina. 

Thomas  Legare,  jun.  Elq.  John's 

Ifland 
Dr.  Jofeph  Hall  Ramfay,  Charlef- 

ton 
James  Legare,  Efq.  John's  Ifland 
William  Brifbane  Elq.  Slann's  Ifl. 
Mrs.  Sarah  Yonge,  Charlefton 

Margaret  Jenkins 

Sufanna  Wilkinlbn  jun. 
Mr.  Charles  Snowden 

David  Adams,  Wadmelaw  Ifl. 
Nathaniel  Ruffel,  Efq,  Gharlefton 
Mifs  Jane  Huxham 
Mils  Mary  Legare,  John's  Ifland 
Thomas  Jones,  Efq.  Pref.  bank  of 

S.  G.  Charlefton 
Henry  William  De  Sauifare,  Efq. 
Mrs.  Ann  Toomer 
Mr.  Anthony  Toomer 

Thomas  Bennett 
Thomas  Lehre  Efq. 
William  S.  Smith,  Efq, 
George  Pa.ker,  Efq. 
Mr.  Kinfey  Burden 

Micah  Jenkins 
Daniel  Stevens,  Efq» 
Mrs.  Francis  Legare 

Mar^'aret  Stock 


Mr.  Jacob  Axfon 

James  Badger 
Rev.   James  M'Elherney,  John's 
Ifland 

Mrs. Brownlee,  Gharlefton 

Timothy  Ford,  Efq. 
Rev.  Andrew  Steele,  Wilton 
Dr.  James  E.  B.  Finley,  Beaufort 
Paul  Hamilton,  Efq.  St.  Bartholo- 
mews 
William  Hayne,  Efq.  Wilton 
Mrs.  Jean  Slann,  Slann*s  Ifland 
Kaac  Hayne,   Efq.  St.  Bartholo- 
mews 
Mr.  John  S.  Walter 

William  Ofwald 

Alfred  Walter 

William  M'Cants 
Rev.  Thomas  H.  Price,  James  Ifl. 

Francis  Rivers,  fen. 

Francis  Rivers,  jun. 

John  Todd 

Edward  Freer 

Jofiah  Rivers 

Narwood  Witter 

William  Royall 
James  Hafkins,  Efq. 
John  Todd,  Efq. 
Rev.    W.    HolUnfliead,    D.    D. 

Gharlefton 
Rev.  Ifaac  S.  Keith,  D.  D. 
Dr.  William  S.  Stephens 
Dr.  Edward  D.  Smith 
Morton  Waring,  Efq. 
Mrs.  Mary  Waring 

Sufanna  Foftell 

Ann  FaifToux 

Margaret  Young 

Mary  Ann  Shrewft)ury 
Jofiah  Smith,  Efq.   GaQiier  of  the 

National  Branch  bank 
Rev.  Dr.  M'Calla,  Gh rift's  chufcT\ 
Rev.  James  Adams,  Dorchefter 
Dr.  Thomas  H.  M'Galla,Gharlefton 
Dr.  Richard  Waring,  Beach  hill 
Henry  M.  Evans,  Efq. 
Mrs.  Sarah  You,  Gharlefton 

Mary  Turpin 

Sarah  Parker 
Ifaac  Perry,  Efq,  Dorchefter 
Mrs.  Mary  E.  Droze 


SUBSCRIBERS'  NAMES. 


Mr.  Samuel  Prior 

John  Rofc 

John  Garr 

William  Flack,  St.  Pauls 

William  Patterfon 

Charles  Steed,  Wadmelaw  Ifl. 

Thomas  Fickling 

Francis  Fickling 

Henry  Hanna,  Williamfburg 
Mrs  E.  B.  Hatter,  Gharlefton 
Mr  William  Paine 

Hugh  Simpfon 

Alexander  Robertfon 
Mr.  John  M 'Dowel,  Gharlefton 
John  Johnfon,  Efq 
Mr  Jofeph  Hoger,  jun 

William  Leech 

Jeremiah  Rofc 

JefTe  Elmore 

Edward  B.  Morgan 

Daniel  Grukfhanks 
Dr.  John  Noble 
Mr  Jofeph  Mecomb 

William  Pufley 

"William  Lane 

Samuel  Dickfon 
Rev.    William   Williamfon,  Fair 

Foreft 
Dr   Thomas  Welliemfon,  Sporter 

county 
Col  Hugh  Means,  Fair  Foreft 
Mr  Samuel  Archibald 

Henry  Story 

James  Mayers,  jun 

Mofes  White 
Hugh  Dickfon,  A.  B.  Pendleton 

county 
Mr  Samuel  Ottcrfon,  Union  co. 
Rev  Robert  Wilfon,  Abbeville 


Kentucky, 

Hon  John  Brown 
Hon  Humphrey  Marlhal 
Rev  James  Blythe 
Mr  P.  Patterfon 

Alexander  Telford 

Robert  Marftiall 

Alexander  Parker  Lexington 

Anthony  Logan 

John  M 'Do well 

Andrew  M'Calla 

John  Caldwell 

James  Welfh 

James  Crawford 

Jacob  Fiftiback  Clarke  county 

Samuel  Rannels,  Bourbon  co« 

Ifaac  Tull 

Barton  W.  Stone 

Jofeph  P.   Howe,    Montgo- 
mer)'-  county 

John  Hopkins,  Bourbon  co. 

Samuel  Shannon,   Woodford 
county. 

William  Robinfon,  Harrifon 

Malcom  Werley 
Mr.  John  Thomfon,  Bourbon  CO. 

Robert  Steel,  Fayette 

John  Lyle,  Clarke  county 

Ifaac  Barr,  Fayette  county 

William  Wylie,  Scott's  co. 

Samuel  Robertfon,  Harrifon 

James  Moore,  Lexington 


Tennessee. 

Hon.  William  Cock 
Mr.  Gideon  Blackburn 
Robert  Hendeifon 


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Horae  Solitarae — 2  vols. 
Brown's  Dictionary  of  the  Bible — 2  vols. 
Molheim's  Ecclefiaflical  Hiftory — 6  vols. 
Edwards  on  Redemption. 

Do.      on  AfFedlions. 
Morfe's  Gazetteer — large. 

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Whitfield's  Life  and  Sermons. 
Milots  Ancient  Hiftory — 2  vols. 
Life  of  Watts  and  Doddridge. 
Difcourfes  on  the  love  of  God  and  its  influences  on  the 

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Davis's  Sermons — 2  vols. 
Dickinfon  on  Five  Points. 
Zimmerman  on  Solitude. 
Brigg's  Cookery. 
Death  of  Abel  and  Cain. 
Hervey's  Dialogues  and  Meditations. 


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