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, 


X- 


CAREFUL  and  STRICT 

ENQUIRY 

INTO     THE 

MODERN  PREVAILING  NOTIONS 

OF     THAT 

FREEDOM  of  WILL, 

WHICH  IS  SUPPOSED  TO  BE  ESSENTIAL 
T    o 

MORAL  AGENCY,  VIRTUE  and  VICE, 

REWARD  and  PUNISHMENT,  PRAISE 

and  BLAME. 

By  JONATHAN  EDWARDS,  A.M. 

Rom.  ix.  1 6.  It  is  not  of  Mm  that  willeth — 
The     FOURTH     EDITION. 


LONDON, 

Printed  for  J.  JOHNSON,  No.  72,  St.  Paul's  Church- yard, 
M  D  C  C  L  X  X  V, 


er 


E25 


651331 

x.  7     -3  ^S7 


THE 

PREFACE. 


ANY  find  much  fault  with  the 
caUing  profeffing  Chriftians,  that 
differ  one  from  another  in  fome 

,-  .  .  !•/•>•(-» 

matters  ot  opinion,  by  diitmcc 
names  >  efpecially  calling  them  by  the  names 
of  particular  men,  who  have  diftinguifhed 
themfelves  as  maintainers  and  promoters  of 
thofe  opinions  :  as  the  calling  fome  profef 
fing  Chriftians  Arminian^  from  Arminius  ; 
others  Arians,  horn  Arius  -,  others  Socinians, 
from  Socinus,  and  the  like.  They  think  it 
unjuft  in  itfelf  ;  as  it  ieems  to  fuppofe  and 
fuggeft,  that  the  perfons  marked  out  by  thefe 
names,  received  thofe  doctrines  which  they 
entertain,  out  of  regard  to,  and  reliance  on 
thofe  men  after  whom  they  are  named  ;  as 
though  they  made  them  their  rule  ;  in  the 
fame  manner,  as  the  followers  of  CHRIST 
are  called  Cbriftians  ;  after  his  name,  whom 
they  regard  and  depend  upon,  as  their  great 
Head  and  Rule.  Whereas,  this  is  an  unjuft 
and  groundless  imputation  on  thofe  that  go 
under  the  fore-mentioned  denominations. 
Thus  (fay  they)  there  is  not  theleaft  ground 
A  2  to 


iv  Tbe     P  R  E  F  A  C  E. 

to  fuppofe,  that  the  chief  Divines,  who  em 
brace  the  fcheme  of  doctrine  which  is,  by 
many,  called  Arminianifm,  believe  it  -the 
more,  becaufe  Arminius  believed  it :  and 
that  there  is  no  reafon  to  think  any  o- 
ther,  than  that  they  fincerely  and  impar 
tially  ftudy  the  holy  Scriptures,  and  enquire 
after  the  mind  of  Chrift,  with  as  much 
judgment  and  fincerity,  as  any  of  thofe  that 
calf  them  by  thefe  names ;  that  they  feek 
after  truth,  and  are  not  careful  whether  they 
think  exactly  as  Arminius  did ;  yea,  that,  in 
fome  things,  they  actually  differ  from  him. 
This  practice  is  alfo  efteemed  actually  inju 
rious  on  this  account,  that  it  is  fuppofed  na 
turally  to  lead  the  multitude  to  imagine  the 
difference  between  perfons  thus  named  and 
others,  to  be  greater  than  it  is ;  yea,  as  tho' 
it  were  fo  great,  that  they  muft  be,  as  it  were, 
another  fpecies  of  beings.  And  they  object 
'againft  it  as  ariiing  from  an  uncharitable, 
narrow,  contracted  fpirit ;  which,  they  fay, 
commonly  inclines  perfons  to  confine  all 
that  is  good  to  themfelves,  and  their  own 
party,  and  to  make  a  wide  diftinction  be 
tween  themfelves  and  others,  and  iligma- 
tize  thofe  that  differ  from  them  with  odious 
names.  They  fay,  moreover,  that  the  keep 
ing  up  fuch  a  diftinction  of  names  has  a 
direct  tendency  to  uphold  diftance' and  dif- 
affection,  and  keep  alive  mutual  hatred 
among  Chriftians,  who  ought  -all  to  be 
united  in  friendfhip  and  charity,  however 
they  cannot,  in  all  things,  think  alike. 

I  confefsj 


The     P  R  E  F  A  C  E.  v 

I  confefs,  thefe  things  are  very  plaufible. 
And  I  will  not  deny,  that  there  are  fome  un 
happy  confequences  of  this  diftin6lion  of 
names,  and  that  men's  infirmities  and  evil 
difpofitions  often  make  an  ill  improvement 
of  it.  But  yet,  I  humbly  conceive,  thefe  ob- 
jeftions  are  carried  far  beyond  reafon.  The 
generality  of  mankind  are  difpofed  enough, 
and  a  great  deal  too  much,  to  uncharitable- 
nefs,  and  to  be  cenforious  and  bitter  towards 
thofe  that  differ  from  them  in  religious  opi 
nions  :  which  evil  temper  of  mind  will  take 
occafion  to  exert  itfelf  from  many  things  in 
themfelves  innocent,  ufeful  and  neceffary. 
But  yet  there  is  no  neceffity  to  fuppofe,  that 
the  thus  diftinguifhing  perfons  of  different 
opinions  by  different  names,  arifes  mainly 
from  an  uncharitable  fpirit.  It  may  arife 
from  the  difpofition  there  is  in  mankind 
(whom  God  has  diftinguifhed  with  an  ability 
and  inclination  for  fpeech)  to  improve  the 
benefit  of  language,  in  the  proper  ufe  and 
defign  of  names,  given  to  things  which  they 
have  often  occafion  to  fpeak  of,  or  fignify 
their  minds  about ;  which  is  to  enable  them 
to  exprefs  their  ideas  with  eafe  and  expedi 
tion,  without  being  encumbered  with  an 
obfcure  and  difficult  circumlocution.  And 
the  thus  diftinguifhing  perfons  of  different 
opinions  in  religious  matters  may  not  imply, 
nor  infer,  any  more  than  that  there  is  a  dif 
ference,  and  that  the  difference  is  fuch  as  we 
find  we  have  often  occafion  to  take  notice 
of,  and  make  mention  of.  That  whiph  we 
A  3  have 


vi  The    P  R  E  F  A  C  E. 

have  frequent  occafion  to  fpeak  of  (whatever 
it  be,  that  gives  the  occafion)  this  wants  a 
name  :  and  it  is  always  a  defeat  in  language, 
in  fuch  cafes,  to  be  obliged  to  make  ufe  of 
a  defcription,  inftead  of  a  name.  Thus  we 
have  often  occafion  to  fpeak  of  thofe  who 
are  the  defendants  of  the  ancient  inhabi 
tants  of  France,  who  were  fubjefts  or  heads 
of  the  government  of  that  land,  and  fpake 
the  language  peculiar  to  it ;  in  diftinftion 
from  the  defendants  of  the  inhabitants  of 
Spain,  who  belonged  to  that  community,  and 
fpake  the  language  of  that  country.  And 
therefore  we  find  the  great  need  of  diftinft 
names  to  fignify  thefe  different  forts  of  peo 
ple,  and  the  great  convenience  of  thofe  di- 
ftinguiihing  words,  French  and  Spaniards  -y 
by  which  the  fignification  of  our  minds  is 
quick  and  eafy,  and  our  fpeech  is  delivered 
from  the  burden  of  a  continual  reiteration 
of  diffufe  defcriptions,  with  which  it  muft 
otherwife  be  embarraffed. 

That  the  difference  of  the  opinions  of 
thofe,  who  in  their  general  fcheme  of  divi 
nity  agree  with  thefe  two  noted  men,  Calvin 
and  ArminiuS)  is  a  thing  there  is  often  oc 
cafion  to  fpeak  of,  is  what  the  practice  of 
the  latter  itfelf  confefles  ;  who  are  often,  in 
their  difcourfes  and  writings,  taking  notice 
of  the  fuppofed  abfurd  and  pernicious  opi 
nions  of  the  former  fort.  And  therefore  the 
making  ufe  of  different  names  in  this  cafe 
cannot  reafonably  be  objected  againft,  or 
condemned,  as  a  thing  which  muft  come 

from 


P  R  E  F  A  C  E.  v'n 

from  fo  bad  a  caufe  as  they  afllgn.  It  is  eafy 
to  be  accounted  for,  without  fuppoiing  it  to 
arife  from  any  other  fource,  than  the  exi 
gence  and  natural  tendency  of  the  ftate  of 
things  ;  confidering  the  faculty  and  difpo- 
fition  God  has  given  to  mankind,  to  exprefs 
things  which  they  have  frequent  occafion 
to  mention,  by  certain  diftiriguifhing  names. 
It  is  an  effeft  that  is  fimilar  to  what  we  fee 
arife,  in  innumerable  cafes  which  are  parallel, 
where  the  caufe  is  not  at  all  blame- worthy. 

Neverthelefs,  at  firft,  I  had  thoughts  of 
carefully  avoiding  the  ufe  of  the  appellation, 
Arminian,  in  thisTreatife.  But  I  foon  found 
I  fhould  be  put  to  great  difficulty  by  it ;  and 
that  my  Difcourfe  would  be  fo  encumbered 
with  an  often  repeated  circumlocution,  in- 
itead  of  a  name,  which  would  exprefs  the 
thing  intended,  as  well  and  better,  that  I  al 
tered  my  purpofe.  And  therefore  I  muft  afk 
the  excufe  of  fuch  as  are  apt  to  be  offended 
with  things  of  this  nature,  that  I  have  fo 
freely  ufed  the  term  Armiman  in  the  follow 
ing  Difcourfe.  I  profefs  it  to  be  without  any 
defign,  to  ftigmatize  perfons  of  any  fort  with 
a  name  of  reproach,  or  at  all  to  make  them 
appear  more  odious.  If,  when  I  had  occa 
fion  to  fpeak  of  thofe  Divines  who  are  com 
monly  called  by  this  name,  I  had,  inftead  of 
ftyling  them  Arminians,  called  them  thefe 
men,  as  Dr.  Whitby  does  Cafainijlic  Divines ; 
it  probably  would  not  have  been  taken  any 
better,  or  thought  to  fhew  a  better  temper, 
or  more  good  manners.  I  have  done  as  I 
A  4  would 


viii          Me    PREFACE. 

would  be  done  by,  in  this  matter.  However 
the  term  Cafoinijiic  is,  in  thefe  days,  among 
moil,  a  term  of  greater  reproach  than  the 
term  Arminian ;  yet  I  fhould  not  take  it  at  all 
amifs,  to  be  called  aCahtnift,  for  diftinction's 
fake :  though  I  utterly  difclaim  a  dependence 
on  Calvin,  or  believing  the  doftrines  which 
I  hold,  becaufe  he  believed  and  taught  them  3 
and  cannot  juftly  be  charged  with  believing 
in  every  thing  juft  as  he  taught. 

But,  left  I  fhould  really  be  an  occafion  of 
injury  to  fom£  perfons,  I  would  here  give 
notice,  that  though  I  generally  fpeak  of  that 
doftrine,  concerning  Free-will  and  moral 
Agency,  which  I  pppofe,  as  an  Arminian 
doctrine  -,  yet  I  would  not  be  underftood, 
as  aflerting,  that  every  Divine  or  Author, 
whom  I  have  occafion  to  mention  as  main 
taining  that  doftrine,  was  properly  an  Ar- 
minian,  or  one  of  that  fort  which  is  com 
monly  called  by  that  name.  Some  of  them 
went  far  beyond  the  Arminians  :  and  I 
would  by  no  means  charge  Arminians  in 
general  with  all  the  corrupt  doftrine,  which 
thefe  maintained.  Thus,  for  inftance,  it 
would  be  very  injurious,  if  I  (hould  rank 
Arminian  Divines,  in  general,  with  fuch 
Authors  as  Mr.  Chubb.  I  doubt  not,  many 
of  them  have  fome  of  his  doftrines  in 
abhorrence  5  though  he  agrees,  for  the  moft 
part,  with  Arminians,  in  his  notion  of  the 
Freedom  of  the  Will.  And,  on  the  other 
hand,  though  I  fuppofe  this  notion  to  be  a 
leading  article  in  the  Arminian  fcherne,  that 

which, 


The    P  R  E  F  A  C  E.  ix 

which,  if  purfued  in  its  confequences,  will 
truly  infer,  or  naturally  lead  to  all  the  reft ; 
yet  I  do  not  charge  all  that  have  held  this 
do£h  ine,  with  being  Arminiam.  For  what 
ever  maybe  the  confequences  of  the  dofhine 
really,  yet  fome  that  hold  this  doftrine,  may 
not  own  nor  fee  thefe  confequences  ;  and  it 
would  beunjuft,  in  many  inftances,  to  charge 
every  Author  with  believing  and  maintain 
ing  all  the  real  confequences  of  his  avowed 
doftrines.  And  I  defire  it  may  be  particu 
larly  noted,  that  though  I  have  occafion,  in 
the  following  Difcourfe,    often  to  mention 
the  Author  of  the  book,  entitled  An  Effay  on 
the  Freedom  of  the  Will^  in  Gcd  and  the  Crea 
ture ,  as  holding  that  notion  of  Freedom  of 
Will,  which  I  oppofe ;  yet  I  do  not  mean 
to  call  him  an  Arminian :   however,  in  that 
doftrine  he  agrees  with  Anniniam,  and  de 
parts  from  the  current  and  general  opinion 
of  Cahinifts.     If  the  Author  of  that  Effay 
be  the  fame  as  it  is  commonly  afcribed  to, 
he,   doubtlefs,  was  not  one  that  ought  to 
bear  that  name.     But  however  good  a  Di 
vine  he  was  in  many  refpefts,  yet  that  par 
ticular  Arminian  doctrine  which  he  main 
tained,  is   never  the  better  for  being  held 
by  fuch  an  one  :    nor  is  there  lefs  need  of 
oppofmg  it  on  that  account ;  but  rather  is 
there  the  more  need  of  it ;  as  it  will  be  likely 
to  have  the  more  pernicious  influence,  for 
being  taught  by  a  Divine  of  his  name  and 
character;    fuppofing   the   doftrine    to  be 
wrong,  and  in  itlelf  to  be  of  an  ill  ten 
dency*  I  have 


x  The     P  R  E  F  A  C  E. 

I  have  nothing  further  to  fay  by  way  of 
preface  ;  but  only  to  befpeak  the  Reader's 
candor,  and  calm  attention  to  what  I  have 
written.  The  fubjeft  is  of  fuch  impor 
tance,  as  to  demand  attention,  and  the  moft 
thorough  confideration.  Of  all  kinds  of 
knowledge  that  we  can  ever  obtain,  the 
knowledge  of  God,  and  the  knowledge  of 
ourfelves,  are  the  moft  important.  As  re 
ligion  is  the  great  bufinefs,  for  which  we 
are  created,  and  on  which  our  happinefs 
depends ;  and  as  religion  confifts  in  an  in- 
tercourfe  between  ourfelves  and  our  Maker; 
and  fo  has  its  foundation  in  God's  nature 
and  ours,  and  in  the  relation  that  God  and 
we  ftand  in  to  each  other ;  therefore  a  true 
knowledge  of  both  muft  be  needful,  in  order 
to  true  religion.  But  the  knowledge  of  our 
felves  confifts  chiefly  in  right  apprehenfions 
concerning  thofe  two  chief  faculties  of  our 
nature,  the  underjlanding  and  will.  Both 
are  very  important :  yet  the  fcience  of  the 
latter  muft  be  confefled  to  be  of  greateft 
moment ;  inafmuch  as  all  virtue  and  reli 
gion  have  their  feat  more  immediately  in 
the  will,  confifting  more  efpecially  in  right 
acts  and  habits  of  this  faculty.  And  the 
grand  queftion  about  the  Freedom  of  the 
Will,  is  the  main  point  that  belongs  to  the 
fcience  of  the  Will.  Therefore,  I  fay,  the 
importance  of  this  fubjeft  greatly  demands 
the  attention  of  Chriftians,  and  efpecially 
of  Divines.  But  as  to  my  manner  of  hand 
ling  the  fubject,  I  will  be  far  from  prefum- 

ing 


The    P  R  E  F  A  C  E.  xi 

ing  to  fay,  that  it  is  fuch  as  demands  the 
attention  of  the  Reader  to  what  I  have 
written.  I  am  ready  to  own,  that  in  this 
matter  I  depend  on  the  Reader's  courtefy. 
But  only  thus  far  I  may  have  fome  colour 
for  putting  in  a  claim ;  that  if  the  Reader 
be  difpofed  to  pafs  his  cenfure  on  what  I 
have  written,  I  may  be  fully  and  patiently 
heard,  and  well  attended  to,  before  I  am 
condemned.  However,  this  is  what  I  would 
humbly  ajk  of  my  Readers  ;  together  with 
the  prayers  of  all  fincere  lovers  of  truth, 
that  I  may  have  much  of  that  fpirit  which 
Chrift  promifed  his  difciples,  which  guides 
into  all  truth;  and  that  the  bleffed  and 
powerful  influences  of  this  fpirit  would 
make  truth  victorious  in  the  world. 


38 


A  GENERAL 


GENERAL   TABLE 


OF     THE 


CONTENTS. 


PART     I. 


Wherein  are  explained  various  Terms  and  Things  be 
longing  to  the  fubjeft  of  the  enfuing  difcourfe. 


SECT.  I.  Concerning  the  Nature  of  the 
Page  i,  &c. 

SECT.  II.  Concerning  the  Determination  of  the  Will.  6 
SECT.  III.  Concerning  the  meaning  of  the  terms  Ne- 

ccffityi    Impoffibilityy    Inability,    &c.    and    of  ,  Gontin- 

gence*  18 

SECT.  IV.  Of  the  diftinction  of  natural  and  moral 

Neceffity  a^d  Inability.  28 

SECT.  V.  Concerning  the  Notion  of  Liberty^  and  of 

moral  Agency,  38 

PART 


fbe    CONTENTS. 
PART     II. 

Wherein  it  is  confidered,  whether  there  is,  or  can  be 
any  fuch  fort  of  FREEDOM  OF  WILL,  as  that  where 
in  Armlnlans  place  the  Effence  of  the  Liberty  of  all 
moral  Agents;  and  whether  any  fuch  thing  ever 
was,  or  can  be  conceived  ot. 

SECT.  I.  Shewing  the  manifeft  in  confidence  of  the 
Armlnlan  Notion  of  Liberty  of  Will,  confirming  in 
the  Will's  f elf -determining  Power.  Page  44 

SECT.  II.  Several  fuppofed  ways  of  evading  the  fore 
going  Reafoning  confidered.  50 

SECT.  111.  Whether  any  Event  whatfoever,  and  Voli 
tion  in  particular,  can  come  to  pafs  without  a  Caufe 
of  its  Exiftence.  57 

SECT.  IV.  Whether  Politionc&n  arife  without  a  Caufe, 
through  the  Aftivity  of  the  Nature  of  the  Soul.  66 

SECT.  V.  Shewing  that  if  the  things  aflerted  in  thefe 
Evafions  fhould  be  fuppofed  to  be  true,  they  are 
altogether  impertinent,  and  cannot  help  the  Caufe 
of  Armlnlan  Liberty;  and  how,  this  being  the  ftate 
of  the  cafe,  Armlnlan  Writers  are  obliged  to  talk 
inconjiftently.  72 

SECT.  VI.  Concerning  the  Will's  determining  in 
things  which  are  perfectly  indifferent^  in  the  view 
of  the  mind.  78 

SECT.  VII.  Concerning  the  Notion  of  Liberty  of 
Will  confifting  in  Indifference.  88 

SECT.  VIII.  Concerning  the  fuppofed  Liberty  of  the 
Will,  as  oppofite  to  all  NeceJJity.  102 

SECT.  IX.  Of  the  connection  of  the  Acts  of  the  Will 
with  the  Dictates  of  the  Under/landing.  107 

SECT.  X.  Volition  neceffarily  connected  with  the 
Influence  of  Motives.  With  particular  obfervation 
of  the  great  Inconfiftence  of  Mr.  Chubb' s  AfTertions 
and  Reafonings;  about  the  Freedom  of  the  Will.  1 1 7 

SECT.  XL  The  Evidence  of  God's  certain  Foreknoiv- 
ledge  of  the  Volitions  of  moral  Agents^  137 

SECT.  XII.  God's  certain  Foreknowledge  of  the  future 
Volitions  of  moral  Agents,  inconfijtent  with  fuch  a 
Continence  of  thofe  Volitions,  as  is  without  aP, 
IScceilicv.  164"* 

And 


fbe    CONTENTS. 

And  infers  a  Neceffity  of  Volition,  as  much  as  an 
abfolute  Decree.  I<71 

SECT.  XIII.  Whether  we  fuppofe  the  Volitions  of 
moral  Agents  to  be  connected  with  any  thing  ante 
cedent,  or  not,  yet  they  muft  be  neceffary,  in  iuch  a 
fenfe,  as  to  overthrow  Arminian  Liberty.  183 

PART    III. 

Wherein  is  enquired,  whether  any  fuch  Liberty  of 
Will  as  Arminians  hold,  be  neceffary  to  moral 
Agency,  Virtue  and  Vice,  Praife  and  Difpraife,  bV. 

SECT,  I.    God's  moral  Excellency  neceffary,  yet 
'virtuous  and  praifeworthy •  Pa<re  188 

SECT.  II.  The  Afts  of  the  Will  of  the  human  Soul 
of  JESUS  CHRIST  necejfarily  holy,  yet  virtuous,  praife- 
worthy,  rewardable,  &c.  104 

SECT.  III.  The  Cafe  of  fuch  as  are  given  up  of  God  to 
Sin,  and  of  fallen  Man  in  general,  proves  moral  Ne 
ceffity  and  Inability  to  be  confiftent  with  Blame-wor 
th  inefs.  2 1 2 

SECT.  IV.  Command,  and  Obligation  to  Obedience, 
conjiftent  with  moral  Inability  to  obey.  222 

SECT.  V.  That  Sincerity  of  Deiires  and  Endeavours, 
which  is  fuppofed  to  excufe  in  the  Non -performance 
of  Things  in  themfelves  good,  particularly  con- 
iiderecl.  237 

SECT.  VI.  Liberty  of  Indifference,  not  only  not  necef- 
fary  to  Virtue,  but  utterly  Inconjijlent  with  it  :  and 
all,  either  virtuous  or  vicious  Habits  Ql  Inclination;, 
inconiiftent  with  Arminian  Notions  of  Liberty,  and 
moral  Agency.  249 

SECT,  VII.  Arminian  Notions  of  moral  Agency  in- 
confiftent  with  all  Influence  of  Motive  and  Induce- 
went,  in  either  virtuous  or  vicious  Actions.  260 

PART    IV. 

Wherein  the  chief  Grounds  of  the  Reafonings  of  Armi 
nians  >  in  Support  and  Defence  of  their  Notions  of 
Liberty,  moral  Agency,  &c.  and  againft  the  oppo- 
fite  Doctrine,  are  considered. 

SECT, 


We    CONTENTS. 

SECT.  I.  The  E/ence  of  the  Virtue  and  Vice  of 
the  Difpofitions  of  the  Heart,  and  A£ls   of  the 
Will,  lies  not  in  their  Caufes>  but  their  Nature.    269 
SECT.  II.  The  Falfenefs  and  Inconflftence  of  that  meta- 
phyfical  Notion  of  Aftion  and  Agency^  which  feems 
to  be  generally  entertained  by  the  Defenders  of  the 
forementioned  Notions  of  Liberty,  moral  Agen 
cy,  fcfc.  278 

SECT.  III.  The  Reafons  why  fome  think  it  contrary 
to  common  Senfe,  to  fuppofc  Things  which  are  ne- 
ceffary,  to  be  worthy  of  either  Praife  or  Blame.  288 

SECT.  IV.  It  is  agreable  to  common  Senfe,  and  the  na 
tural  Notions  of  Mankind)  to  fuppofe  moral  Necef- 
fity  to  be  confident  with  Praife  and  Blame,  Re 
ward  and  Punifhment.  297 

SECT.  V.  Concerning  thofe  ObjeCtions,thzt  this  fcheme 
of  Neceffity  renders  all  Means  and  Endeavours  for 
the  avoiding  of  Sin  or  the  obtaining  Virtue  and 
Holinefs,  vain  and  to  no  purpofe ;  and  that  it  makes 
Men  no  more  than  meer  Machines,  in  affairs  of 
Morality  and  Religion.  309 

SECT.  VI.  Concerning  that  Objection  againft  the  Doc 
trine  which  has  been  maintained,  that  it  agrees 
with  the  Stoical  doctrine  of  Fatey  and  the  Opinion 
of  Mr.  Hobbes.  3 19 

SECT.  VII.  Concerning  the  NeccJJity  of  the  Divine 
Will.  323 

SECT.  VIII.  Some  further  Objections  againft  the  moral 
Neceffity  of  GOD'S  Volition^  considered.  335 

SECT.  IX.  Concerning  that  Objection  againft  the  Doc 
trine  which  has  been  maintained,  that  it  makes. 
God  the  Author  of  Sin.  354 

SECT.  X.  Concerning  Sin's  firfl  Entrance  into  the 
World.  376 

SECT.  XI.  Of  a  fuppofed  Inconjijlence%  of  thefe  Prin 
ciples  with  GOD'S  moral  Character.  379 

SKCT.  XII.  Of  a  fuppofed  Tendency  of  thefe  Prin 
ciples  to  Atbelfm  and  Licentioufnefs.  385 

SECT.  XIII.  Concerning  that  Objection  againft  the 
Reafoning  by  which  the  Cahmlftic  Doctrine  is  fup- 
ported,  that  it  is  metapbyfical  and  abftruje.  390 


We    CONTENTS. 


The     CONCLUSION. 

WHAT  Treatment  this   Difcourfe  may  probably 
meet  with,  from  fome  perfons.  400 

Ccnfequences  concerning  feveral  Galvini/iic  Do&rines ; 
iuch  as  an  itmverfal9  dccifive  Providence.  402 

The   total  Depravity  and'  Corruption  of  Man's  Na 
ture.  403 
Efficacious  Grace*                                                               404 
An  univerfal  and  abfolute  Decree ;  and  abfolute,  eter- 
,   nal,  perfonal  Election.                                             406 
Particular  Redemption.                                                     407 
Perfeverance  of  Saints.                                                   408 
Concerning  the  Treatment  which  CalvixifticVfritws 
and  Divines  have  met  with.                                  410 
The  Unhappinefs  of  the  Change  lately  in  many  Pro- 
tefiant  Countries.                                                        41  \ 
The  Eoldnefs  of  forne  Writers.                                  413 
The  excellent  Tpifdom  appearing  in  the   holy    Scrip 
tures.                                                                        4 1 3 


PART 


•mo:  :' :     PART     I.         $w 

Wherein  are  explained  and  ftated  va 
rious  TVmj  and  Things  belonging 
to  the  Subject  of  the  enfuing  Dif- 
courfe. 


SECTION     L 

Concerning  the  Nature  of  the  Will. 


" 


. 

"  ' 


I 


T  may  poffibly  fre  thought,  that  there 
is  no  great  need  of  going  about  tode- 
fine  or  defcribe  the  Will-%  this  word 
being  generally  as  well  underftood  as 
any  other  words  we  can  ufe  to  explain 
t  :  and  fo  perhaps  it  would  be,  had  not  philofo- 
phers,  metaphyficians  and  polemic  divines  brought 
the  matter  into  obfcurity  by  the  things  they  have 
faid  of  it.     But  fmce  it  is  fo,  I  think  it  may  be  of 
fome  ufe,  and  will  tend  to  the  greater  clearnefs  in 
the  following  difcourfe,  to  fay  a  few  things  con 
cerning  it. 

B  And 


t  fhe  Nature  of  the  Will.  Part  L 

And  therefore  I  obferve,  that  the  Will  (without: 
any  metaphyfical  refining)  is  plainly,  That  by 
which  the  mind  chufes  any  thing.  The  faculty  of 
the  Will  is  that  faculty  or  power  or  principle  of 
mind  by  which  it  is  capable  of  cbufing  •  an  act 
of  the  IVill  is  the  fame  as  an  act  of  chufing  or 
choice. 

If  any  think  'tis  a  more  perfect  definition  of  the 
Will,  to  fay,  that  it  is  that  by  which  the  foul 
either  chufes  or  refufcs;  I  am  content  with  it :  tho* 
I  think  that  'tis  enough  to  fay,  It's  that. by  which 
the  foul  chufes  :  for  in  every  act  of  Will  whatfo- 
ever,  the  mind  chufes  one  thing  rather  than  another; 
it  chufes  fomething  rather  than  the  contrary,  or 
rather  than  the  want  or  non-exiftence  of  that 
thing.  So  in  every  act  of  refufal,  the  mind  chufes 
the  abfence  of  the  thing  refufed  j  The  pofitive 
and  the  negative  are  fet  before  the  mind  for  it's 
choice,  and  it  chufes  the  negative  ;  and  the  mind's 
making  it's  choice  in  that  cafe  is  properly  the  act 
of  the  Will :  the  Will's  determining  between  the 
two  is  a  voluntary  determining  -,  but  that  is  the 
fame  thing  as  making  a  choice.  So  that  what 
ever  names  we  call  the  act  of  the  Will  by  chufing, 
refufing,  approving,  dif approving,  liking,  dijliking, 
embracing,  rejecting,  determining,  directing,  command 
ing,  forbidding,  inclining  or  being  averfe,  a  being 
pleafed  or  difpleafed  with  ;  all  may  be  reduced  to 
this  of  chufing.  For  the  foul  to  act  voluntarily,  is 
evermore  to  act  eleftively. 

Mr.  Locke*,  fays,  "  The  Will  fignifies  nothing 
*(  but  a  power  or  ability  to  prefer  or  chufe"  And 
in  the  foregoing  page  fays,  "  The  word  prefer- 
"  ring  feems  bell  to  exprefs  the  act  of  volition  ;" 

But 

f  Human  Undemanding.    Edit.  7.  vol.  i.  p.  197. 


Sect.  I.  ne  Nature  of  the  Will.  * 

But  addsi  that  "  it  does  it  not  precifely  ;  For  (fays 
he)  "  tho'  a  man  would  prefer  flying  to  walking 
"  yet  who  can  %  he  ever  wills  it?'"  But  the  in- 
ftance  he  mentions  don't  prove  that  there  is  any 
thing  elfe  in  willing,  but  meerly  preferring:  for 
it  ffipuk!  be  considered   what  is  the  next  and  im 
mediate  objecl  of  the  Will,  with  refpedt  to  a  man's 
walking,  or  any  other  external  adrion  ;  which  is 
not  being  removed   from  one  place  to  another; 
on   the  earth,  or  thro'  the  air ;  thefe  are  remoter 
objects  ot  preference  ;  but  fuch  or  fuch  an  imme 
diate  exertion  of  himfelf.     The  thing  nextly  cho- 
fen  or  prefer'd  when  a  man  wills  to  walk,  is  nor. 
his  being  removed  to  fuch  a  place  where  he  would 
be,  but  inch  an  exertion  and  motion  of  his  leo-s 
and  feet,  &c.    in  order  to  it.     And  his  willing 
inch  an  alteration  in  his  body  in  the  prefent  mo 
ment,  is  nothing  elfe   but  his  chufing  or  prefer 
ring  fuch  an  alteration  in  his  body  at  fuch  a  mo 
ment,  or  his  liking  it  better  than  the  forbearance 
of  it.     And  God  has  fo  made  and  efbbliuYd  the 
human  nature,  the  foul  being  united  to  a   body 
in  proper  ftate,  that  the  foul  preferring  or  chufinc* 
Inch  an  immediate  exertion  or  alteration  of  the 
body,  fuch  an  alteration  inftantaneoufiy  follows. 
There  is  nothing  elfe  in  the  actions  of  my  mind, 
L  am  confcious  of  while  I  walk,    but  only 
my  preferring  or   chufing,  thro'   fucceffive   m<£ 
ments,  that  there  flionld  be  fuch  alterations  of  my 
external  fenfations  and    motions  •,    together  with 
a  concurring   habitual  expectation  that  it  will  be 
to  ;    having  ever  found   by  experience,  that  on 
ch  an  immediate  preference,  fuch  fenfations  and 
motions  do  actually  inftantaneoufiy,  and  conitantly 
anfe.     But   it  is   not  fo   in    the  cafe  of  flyinp- : 
tho    a  man  may  be  faid  remotely  to  chufe  or  p?e~ 
ter  flying  ;  yet   he  don't  chufe  or  prefer,  incline 
to  or  defirci  under  circumltances  in  view,   any 
^  ^  immediate 


4  Fbe  Nature  of  the  Wilt  Part  L 

immediate  exertion  of  the  members  of  his  body 
in  order  to  it ;  becaufe  he  has  no  expe&ation  that 
he  ihould  obtain  the  defired  end  by  any  fuch  ex 
ertion  ;  and  he  don't  prefer  or  incline  to  any  bodily 
exertion  or  effort  under  this  apprehended  circurn- 
ilance,  of  it's  being  wholly  in  vain.  So  that  if  we 
carefully  diftinguiih  the  proper  objects  of  the  fe\  e- 
ral  ads' of  the  Will,  it  will  not  appear  by  thi?, 
and  fnch-like  inilances,  that  there  is  any  difference 
between  volition  and  preference ;  or  that  a  man's 
chufmg,  liking  bed,  or  being  beft  pleafed  wTith  a 
tiling,  are  not  the  fame  with  his  willing  that 
thing  ;  as  they  feem  to  be  according  to  thofe  ge 
neral  and  more  natural  motions  of  men,  according 
to  which  language  is  formed.  Thus  an  aft  of  the 
Will  is  commonly  expreifed  by  it's  pleafing  a  man 
to  do  thus  or  thus  ;  and  a  man  doing  as  he  wills, 
and  doing  as  he  pleafes,  are  the  fame  thing  in  com 
mon  fpeech. 

Mr.  Locke  *  fays,  "  The  Will  is  perfeftly  di- 
**  (tinguifhed  from  Deiire  :  which  in  the  very  fame 
"  adtion  may  have  a  quite  contrary  tendency 
"  from  that  which  our  Wills  fct  us  upon.  A 
"  man  (fays  he)  whom  I  cannot  deny,  may  oblige 
"  me  to  ufe  perfuafions  to  another,  which,  at  the 
*c  fame  time  I  am  fpeaking,  I  may  wifh  may  not 
<c  prevail  on  him.  In  this  cafe  'tis  plain  the  Will 
"  and  Defire  run  counter."  I  don't  fuppofc,  that 
Will  and  Defire  are  words  of  precifely  the  fame 
fignification  :  Will  feems  to  be  a  word  of  a  more 
general  fignification,  extending  to  things  prefent 
and  abfent.  Defire  refpeds  fomething  abfenc.  1 
may  prefer  my  prefent  fituation  and  pofture, 
fnppofe  fitting  ftill,  or  having  my  eyes  open, 
and  fo  may  will  it.  But  yet  I  can't  think  they 

are 

*  Hum*  Und,  vol.  i.  p.  203,  204, 


Sed.  I.  Me  Nature  of  tie  Will.  § 

are  fo  entirely  diftinft,  that  they  can  ever  be  pro* 
perly  faid  to  run  counter.     A  man  never,  in  any 
inftance,  wills  any  thing  contrary  to  his  Defires, 
or  defires   any  thing  contrary  to  his  Will.     The 
foremention'd  inftance,  which  Mr.  Locke  produces, 
don't  prove  that   he   ever   does,     He  may,    on 
fome  confederation  or  other,  will  to  utter  fpeeches 
which  have  a  tendency  to  perfuade  another,  and 
ftill  may  defire  that  they  may  not  perfuade  him? 
but   yet   his  Will  and  Defire  don't  run  counter 
at  all  :    the  thing  which  he  wills,  the  very  fame 
he  defires;  and  he  don't  will  a  thing,  and  defire 
the  contrary  in  any  particular.     In   this  inftance, 
it   is  not  carefully  obferved,    what  is  the  thing 
will'd,  and   what  is  the  thing  defired :  if  it  were, 
it  would  be   found  that  Will  and  Defire  don't 
clalh  in  the  leaft.     The  thing  will'd  on  fome  con- 
fideration,  is  to  utter  fuch  words  ;  and  certainly, 
fame  confederation  fo  influences  him,  that  he 
don't  defire  the  contrary  ;  all  things  confidered, 
he  chufes   to  utter  fuch  words,  and  don't  defire 
not  to  utter  them.     And  fo  as  to  the  thing  which 
Mr.  Locke  fpeaks   of  as    defired,    viz.  That  the 
words,  tho'  they  tend  to  perfuade,  fhould  not  be 
effectual  to  that  end,  his  Will  is  not  contrary  to 
this;  he  don't  will  that  they  fhould  be  effectual, 
but  rather  wills  that  they  fhould  not,  as  he  defires, 
In  order  to  prove  that  the  Will  and  Defire  may 
run  counter,  it  fnould  be  mown  that  they  may  be 
contrary  one   to  the  other  in  the  fame  thing,  or 
with  refpecl  to   the  very  fame  object  of  Will  or 
Defire  :   but  here  the  objedls  are  two;  and  in  each, 
taken  by  thcmfelves,  the  WTill  and  Defire  agree. 
And  'tis  no  wonder  that  they  fhould  not  agree  in 
different  things,  however  little  diflinguifhed  they 
are  in  their  nature.     The  WTill  may  not  agree  with 
the  WTill,  nor  Defire  agree  with  Defire,  in  different; 
things.     As  in  this  very  inftance  which  Mr.  Locke 
B  men* 


6  Of  the  Determination  of  the  Will.       Part  I. 

mentions,  a  perfon  may,  on  fome  confideration, 
clefire  to  ufe  perfuafions,  and  at  the  fame  time  may 
defire  they  may  not  prevail  •,  but  yet  no  body  will 
fay,  that  Defire  runs  counter  to  Defire  ;  or  that  this 
proves  that  Defire  is  perfectly  a  diftinct  thing  from 
Defire — The  like  might  be  obferved  of  the  other 
inftance  Mr.  Locke  produces,  of  a  man's  defiring 
to  be  eafed  of  pain,  &c. 

But  not  to  dwell  any  longer  on  this,  whether 
Defire  and  Will,  and  whether  Preference  and  Volition 
be  precifely  the  fame  things  or  no;  yet,  I  truft  it 
\vill  be  allowed  by  all,  that  in  every  act  of  Will 
there  is  an  ad  of  choice  ;  that  in  every  volition 
there  is  a  preference,  or  a  prevailing  inclination  of 
the  foul,  whereby  the  foul,  at  that  inftant,  is  out 
of  a  ffote  of  perfect  indifference,  with  refpect  to 
the  direct  object  of  the  volition.  So  that  in  every 
act,  or  going  forth  of  the  Will,  there  is  fome  pre^ 
pOfldef ation  of  the  mind  or  inclination,  one  way 
rather  than  another ;  and  the  foul  had  rather  have 
or  do  one  thing  than  another,  or  than  not  to  have 
or  do  that  thing ;  and  that  there,  where  there  is 
ablolutely  no  preferring  or  chufing,  but  a  perfect 
Continuing  equilibrium,  there  is  no  volition. 

SECTION     II. 

Concerning  the  Determination  of  the  Will. 

BY  determining  the  Will,  if  the  phrafe  be  ufed 
'with  any  meaning,  mufl  be  intended*  caufing 
that  the  aft  of  the  Will  or  Choice  Jhould  be  thus,  and 
not  oth'erwifi  :  and  the  Will  is  faid  to  be  deter 
mined,  when,  in  cpnfequence  of  fome  action,  or 
influence,  its  choice  is  direded  to,  and  fix'd  upon 
2  particular  object.     As  when  we  fpeak  of  th* 
A  Deter- 


II.        What  determines  the  Will.  7 

Determination  of  motion,  we  mean  caufing  the 
motion  of  the  body  to  be  fuch  a  way,  or  in  fuch 
a  direction,  rather  than  another. 

To  talk  of  the  Determination  of  the  Will,  fup- 
pofes  an  effect,  which  muft  have  a  caufe.  If  the 
Will  be  determined,  there  is  a  Determiner.  This 
muft  be  fuppofed  to  be  intended  even  by  them  that 
lay,  the  Will  determines  itfelf.  If  it  be  fo,  the 
Will  is  both  Determiner  and  determined  ;  it  is  a 
caufe  that  acts  and  produces  effects  upon  itfelf,  and 
is  the  objeft  of  its  own  influence  and  action. 

With  refpect  to  that  grand  enquiry,  What  de* 
t ermines  the  Will,  it  would  be  very  tedious  and  un- 
neceflary  at  prefent  to  enumerate  and  examine  all 
the  various  opinions,  which  have  been  advanced 
concerning  this  matter  ;  nor  is  it  needful  that  I 
fhould  enter  into  a  particular  difquifition  of  all 
points  debated  in  difputes  on  that  queftion,  Whe* 
ther  the  Will  akvays  follows  the  laft  diftate  of  the 
under  ft  anding.  It  is  fufficient  to  my  prefent  purpofe 
to  fay, — It  is  that  motive,  which,  as  it  Jlands  in  the 
'view  of  the  mind,  is  the  ftrongejl  that  determines  the 
Will  — But  it  may  be  necelfary  that  I  fhould  a  little 
explain  my  meaning  in  this. 

By  motive,  I  mean  the  whole  of  that  which 
moves,  excites  or  invites  the  mind  to  volition, 
whether  that  be  one  thing  iingly,  or  many  things 
conjunctly.  Many  particular  things,  may  concur 
and  unite  their  itrength  to  induce  the  mind  ;  and 
when  it  is  fo,  all  together  are  as  it  were  one  com 
plex  motive.  And  when  I  fpeak  of  the  jlrongeft 
motive,  I  have  refpect  to  the  ftrength  of  the  whole 
that  operates  to  induce  to  a  particular  act  of  voli 
tion,  whether  that  be  the  itrength  of  one  thing 
alone,  or  of  many  together. 

"  B  a.  Whatever 


8  Wbat  determines  tie  Will.          Part  I. 

Whatever  is  a  motive,  in  this  fenfe,  muft  be 
fomething  that  is  extant  in  the  view  or  apprehsnjion  of 
the  undemanding,  or  perceiving  faculty.  Nothing 
can  induce  or  invite  the  mind  to  will  or  act  any 
thing,  any  further  than  it  is  perceived,  or  is  fome 
way  or  other  in  the  mind's  view ;  for  what  is 
wholly  unperceived,  and  perfectly  out  of  the  mind's 
view,  can't  affect  the  mind  at  all.  'Tis  moft  evi 
dent,  that  nothing  is  in  the  mind,  or  reaches  it,  or 
takes  any  hold  of  it,  any  otherwife  than  as  it  is 
perceived  or  thought  of. 

And  I  think  it  mu ft  alfo  be  allowed  by  all,  that 
£very  thing  that  is  properly  called  a  motive,  ex 
citement  or  inducement  to  a  perceiving  willing 
agent,  has  fome  fort  and  degree  of  tendency,  or 
advantage  to  move  or  excite  the  Will,  previous  to 
the  effect^  or  to  the  act  of  the  Will  excited.  This 
previous  tendency  of  the  motive  is  what  I  call 
the  Jirengirb  of  the  motive.  That  motive  which  has 
a  lefs  degree  of  previous  advantage  or  tendency 
to  move  the  Will,  or  that  appears  lefs  inviting,  as 
it  Hands  in  the  view  of  the  mind,  is  what  I  call  a 
weaker  motive*  On  the  contrary,  that  which  ap 
pears  molt  inviting,  and  has,  by  what  appears 
concerning  it  to  the  understanding  or  apprphen- 
fion,  the  greateil  degree  of  previous  tendency  to 
excite  and  induce  the  choice,  is  what  I  call  the 
jlrongeft  motive.  And  in  this  ftnfe,  I  fuppofe  the 
Will  V  always  determined  by  the  ftrongeft  mo 
tive. 

Things  that  exiil  in  the  view  of  the  mind  have 
their  ftrength,  tendency  or  advantage  to  move 
or  excite  its  Will,  from  many  things  appertain 
ing  to  the  nature  and  circumflances  of  the  thin* 
vievfd,  the  nature  and  circumftances  of  the  mind 
that  views i  and  the  degree  and  manner  of  its  view- ; 

whicbj 


Seel:.  II.         What  determines  the  Will  '  $ 

which  it  would  perhaps  be  hard  to  make  a  perfect 
enumeration  of*.  But  ib  much  I  think  may  be 
determined  in  general,  without  room  for  contro- 
verfy,  that  whatever  is  perceived  or  apprehended 
by  an  intelligent  and  voluntary  agent,  which  has 
the  nature  and  influence  of  a  motive  to  volition 
or  choice,  is  confkler'd  or  view'd  a,sgood\  nor  has 
it  any  tendency  to  invite  or  engage  the  election  of 
the  foul  in  any  further  degree  than  it  appears 
fuch.  For  to  fay  otherwife,  would  be  to  fay,  that 
things  that  appear  have  a  tendency  by  the  appear 
ance  they  make,  .to  engage  the^mind  to  elect  them, 
fome  other  way  than  by  their  appearing  eligible 
to  it ;  which  is  abfurd.  And  therefore  it  mult  be 
true,  in  fome  fenle,  that  the  Will  always  is  as  the 
greateft  apparent  good  is.  But  only,  for  the  right 
underftanding  of  this,  two  things  muft  be  "well  an4 
diftinctly  obferved. 

i.  It  muft  be  obferved  in  what  fenfc  I  ufe  the 
term  good ;  namely,  as  of  the  fame  import  with 
flgreable.  To  appear  good  to  the  mind,  as  I  ufe  the 
phraie,  is  the  fame  as  to  appear  agreabk^  or  feem 
pleafmg  to  the  mind.  Certainly,  nothing  appears 
inviting  and  eligible  to  the  mind,  or  tending  to 
engage  its  inclination  and  choice,  conlidered  as 
evil  or  difagreable ;  nor  indeed,  as  indifferent,  and 
neither  agreable  nor  difagreable.  But  if  it  tends 
to  draw  the  inclination,  and  move  the  Will,  it  muft 
be  under  the  notion  of  that  which  fulls  the  mind. 
And  therefore  that  muft  have  the  greateft  tendency 
to  attract  and  engage  it,  which,  as  it  ftands  in  the 
mind's  view,  fuits  it  beft,  and  pleafes  it  molt ;  and 
In  that  fenfe,  is  the  greateft  apparent  good :  to  fay 
otherwife,  is  little,  if  any  thing,  mort  of  a  direct 
and  plain  contradiction. 

The  word  good,  in  this  fenfe,  includes  in  its 
fignirication,  the  removal  or  avoiding  of  evil,  or 

of 


*o  What  determines  the  Will.  Part  I. 

of  that  which  is  difagreable  and  uneafy.  'Tis 
agreable  and  pleafing,  to  avoid  what  is  difagreable 
and  difpleafing,  and  to  have  uneafmefs  removed. 
So  that  here  is  included  what  Mr.  Locke  fuppofes 
determines  the  Will.  For  when  he  fpeaks  or  un- 
eaiinefs  as  determining  the  Will,  he  muft  be  un- 
tlerftood  as  fuppoiing  that  the  end  or  aim  which 
governs  in  the  volition  or  act  of  preference,  is  the 
avoiding  or  removal  of  that  uneafmefs ;  and  that 
is  the  fame  thing  as  chufing  and  feeking  what  is 
more  eafy  and  agreable, 

2.  When  I  fay,  the  Will  is  as  the  greateft  ap 
parent  good  is,  or  (as  I  have  explained  it)  that 
volition  has  always  for  its  object  the  thing  which, 
appears  moft  agreable  ;  it  muft  be  carefully  ob- 
fervedj  to  avoid  con fufi on  and  needlefs  objection, 
that  I  fpeak  of  the  dire  ft  and  immediate  object  of 
the  act  of  volition  ;  and  not  fome  object  that 
the  act  of  Will  has  not  an  immediate,  but  only  an 
indirect  and  remote  refpect  to.  Many  acts  of  vo 
lition  have  fome  remote  relation  to  an  object,  that 
is  different  from  the  thing  moft  immediately  will'd 
and  choferi.  Thus,  when  a  drunkard  has  his 
liquor  before  him,  and  he  has  to  chufe  whether  to 
drink  it,  or  no  ;  the  proper  and  immediate  objects, 
about  which  his  prefent  volition  is  converiant, 
and  between  which  his  choice  now  decides,  are 
his  own  acts,  in  drinking  the  liquor,  or  letting  it 
alone  ;  and  this  will  certainly  be  done  according 
to  what,  in  the  prefent  view  of  his  mind,  taken 
in  the  whole  of  it,  is  moft  agreable  to  him.  If 
he  chufcs  or  wills  to  drink  it,  and  not, to  let  it 
alone  •,  then  this  action,  as  it  ftands  in  the  view 
of  his  mind,  with  all  that  belongs  to  its  appear 
ance  there,  is  more  agreable  and  pleafing  than 


letting  it  alone. 


But 


Sect.  II.        Wka!  determines  the  Will.  u 

But  the  objects  to  which  this  act  of  volition 
may  relate  more  remotely,  and  between  which  his 
choice    may  determine  more   indirectly,    are   the 
prefent  pleafure  the  man  expects  by  drinking,  and 
the  future  mifery  which  he  judges  will  be  the  con- 
fequence  of   it:  he  may  judge  that  this    future 
mifery,  when  it  comes,  will  be  more  dilagreable 
and   unpleafant,    than    refraining   from    drinking 
now  would  be.     But  thefe  two  things  are  not  the 
proper  objects  that  the  act  of  volition  fpoken  of 
js  nextly  converfant  about.     For  the  act  of  Will 
fpoken  of  is   concerning  prefent  drinking  or  for 
bearing   to  drink.     If   he   wills  to    drink,    then 
drinking  is  the  proper  object  of  the  act  of  his 
Will  ;  and  drinking,    on  fome   account  or  other, 
now  appears  moft  agreable  to  him,  and  fuits  him 
bed.     If  he  chufes  to  refrain,  then   refraining  is 
the   immediate  object  of  his  Will,    and  is  moft 
pleafmg  to  him.     If  in   the  choice  he   makes  in 
the  cafe,  he  prefers  a  prefent  pleafure  to  a  future 
advantage,  which  he  judges  will  be  greater  when 
it  comes;  then  a  leiler  prefent  pleafure  appears 
more  agreable  to  him  than  a  greater  advantage 
at  a  diltance.     If  on  the  contrary  a  future   ad 
vantage  is  prefer'd,  then  that  appears  moft  aoje- 
able,  and  fuits  him  beft.     And  fo  dill  the  prefent 
volition  is  as  the  greateft  apparent  good  at  pre 
fent  is. 

I  have  rather  chofen  to  exprefs  myfelf  thus,  that 
the  Will  always  is  as  the  greatefl  apparent  good,  or 
as  what  appears  moft  agreable,  is,  than  to  fay  that 
the  Will  is  determinedly  the  greateft  apparent  good, 
or  by  what  leems  moft  agreable  ;  becaufe  an  ap 
pearing  moft  agreable  or  pleating  to  the  mind,  and 
the  mind's  preferring  and  chufing,  feem  hardly  to 
be  properly  and  perfectly  diftinct.  If  ftrict  pro 
priety  of  fpecch  be  infifted  on,  it  may  more  pro 
perly 


12  What  determines  the  Will  Parti. 

perly  be  faid,  that  the  voluntary  aftion  which  is  the 
immediate  confequence  and  fruit  of  the  mind's 
volition  or  choice,  is  determined  by  that  which  ap 
pears  mod  agreable,  than  the  preference  or  choice 
hfelf ;  but  that  the  act  of  volition  itielf  is  always 
determin'd  by  that  in  or  about  the  mind's  view  of 
the  object,  which  caufes  it  to  appear  moil  agreable. 
J  fay,  in  or  about  the  mind's  view  of  the  object, 
becaufe  what  has  influence  to  render  an  object 
in  view  agreable,  is  not  only  what  appears  in  the 
object  view'd,  but  alfo  the  manner  of  the  view, 
and   the  Jlate  and  cir  cumftanc.es  of  the   mind  that 
views. — Particularly  to  enumerate  all  things  per 
taining  to  the  mind's  view  of  the  objects  of  vo 
lition,    which  have  influence  in   their  appearing 
agreable  to  the  mind,  would  be  a  matter  of  no 
fmall  difficulty,  and  might  require  a  treatife  by 
itfelf,  and  is  not  necefiary  to  my  prefent  purpofe. 
I  fhall  therefore  only  mention  ibme  things  in  ge 
neral. 

I.  One  thing  that  makes  an  object  propofed  to 

choice  agreable,  is  the  apparent  nature  and  circum- 

fiances  of  the  objeft.     And  there  are  various  things 

of   this  fort,  that  have  an  hand  in  rendering  the 

object  more  or  lefs  agreable  ^   as, 

1.  That  which   appears  in  the  object,    which, 
renders   it  beautiful  and  pleafant,  or  deform* d  an4 
irkfom  to  the  mind  ;  viewing  it  as  it  is  in  itfelf. 

2.  The  apparent  degree  of  pleafure  or  trouble 
Attending  the  object,  or  the  conference  of  it.     Such 
concomitants  and  confequents  being  viewed  as  cir- 
cumitances  of  the  objedts,  are  to  be  considered  as 
belonging  to  it,  and  as  it  were  parts  of  it ;  as  it 
ftands  in  the  mind's,  view,  as  a  propofed  object  of 
choice. 

3.  The  apparent  Jlate  of  the  pleafure  or  trouble 
{hat  appears,    \vith    refped   to  diflance  of  time ; 

being 


Sefh  II.        What  determines  the  Will.  \ § 

being  either  nearer  or  farther  off*  'Tis  a  thing 
in  itielf  agreable  to  the  mind,  to  have  pleafure 
fpeedily  ;  and  difagreable,  to  have  it  delayed  :  fo 
that  if  there  be  two  equal  degrees  of  pleafure  fet 
in  the  mind's  view,  and  all  other  things  are  equal, 
but  only  one  is  beheld  as  near,  and  the  other  far 
off;  the  nearer  will  appear  mod  agreable,  and  fo 
will  be  chofen.  Becaufe,  tho'  the  agreablenefs  of 
the  objects  be  exactly  equal,  as  view'd  in  them- 
ielves,  yet  not  as  view'd  in  their  circumftances  ; 
one  of  them  having  the  additional  agreablenefs  of 
the  circumftance  of  nearnefs* 

II.  Another  thing  that  contributes  to  the  agre 
ablenefs  of  an  object  of  choice,  as  it  ftands  in  the 
mind's  view,  is  the  manner  of  the  view.  If  the  ob 
ject  be  fomething  which  appears  connected  with 
future  pleafure,  not  only  will  the  degree  of  ap 
parent  pleafure  have  influence,  but  alfo  the  man 
ner  of  the  view,  efpecially  in  two  refpects. 

1.  With  refpect  to  the  degree  of  judgment,  or 
firmnefs   of  affent,  with  which  the  mind  judges 
the   pleafure  to  be  future.     Becaufe  it  is    more 
agreable  to  have  a  certain  happinefs,  than  an  un+ 
certain  one ;  and  a  pleafure  view'd  as  more  pro 
bable,  all  other  things  being  equal,  is  more  agre 
able  to  the  mind,  than  that  which  13  view'd  as  lets 
probable. 

2.  With  refpect  to  the  degree  of  the  idea  of  the 
future    pleafure.     With  regard  to  things   which 
are  the  fubject  of  our  thoughts,  either  paft,  pre- 
fent  or  future,  we  have  much  more  of  an  idea  or 
apprehenfion  of  ibme  things  than  others ;  that  is, 
our  idea  is  much  more  clear,  lively  and  ftrong< 
Thus  the  ideas  we  have  of  feniible  things  by  imme 
diate  fenfation,   are  ufually  much  more  lively  than 
thofe  we  have  by  meer  imagination,  or  by  con 
templation  of  them  when  abient.    My  idea  'of  the 

fun, 


f  4  What  determines  tie  H'ilL  Part  I. 

fun,  when  I  look  upon  it,  is  more  vivid,  than  when 
I  only  think  of  it.  Our  idea  of  the  f\veet  relifh  of 
a  delicious  fruit  is  ufually  ftronger  when  we  tafte 
it,  than  when  we  only  imagine  it.  And  fometimes^ 
the  idea  we  have  of  things  by  contemplation,  are 
much  ftronger  and  clearer,  than  at  other  times/ 
Thus,  a  man  at  one  time  has  a  much  ftronger 
idea  of  the  pleafure  which  is  to  he  enjoyed  in  eating 
fome  fort  of  food  that  he  loves^  than'  at  another. 
Now  the  degree,  or  ftrength  of  the  idea  or  fenfe 
that  men  have  of  future  good  or  evil,  is  one  thing 
that  has  great  influence  on  their  minds  to  excite 
choice  or  volition.  When  of  two  kinds  of  future 
pleafure,  which  the  mind  confiders  of,  and  are 
prefented  for  choice,  both  are  fuppofed  exactly 
equal  by  the  judgment,  and  both  equally  certain* 
and  all  other  things  are  equal  but  only  one  of  them 
is  what  the  mind  has  a  far  more  -lively  fenfe  ofs 
than  of  the  other  ;  this  has  the  greateft  advan-- 
tage  by  far  to  affect  and  attract  the  mind,  and 
move  the  Will*  'Tis  now  more  agreable  to  the 
mind*  to  take  the  pleafure  it  has  a  ftrong  and 
lively  fenfe  of,  than  that  which  it  has  only  a  faint 
idea  of.  The  view  of  the  former  is  attended  with 
the  ftrongeft  appetite,  and  the  greateft  uneafmefs.. 
attends  the  want  of  it ;  and  'tis  agreable  to  the 
mind  to  have  uneafmefs  removed,  and  it's  appetite 
gratified.  And  if  feveral  future  enjoyments  are 
prefented  together,  as  competitors  for  the  choice 
of  the  mind,  fome  of  them  judged  to  be  greater^ 
and  others  lefs  ;  the  mind  alfo  having  a  greater 
fenfe  and  more  lively  idea  of  the  good  of  fome 
of  them,  and  of  others  a  lefs  •,  and  fome  ate  view 
ed  as  of  greater  certainty  or  probability  than 
others  •,  and  thofe  enjoyments  that  appear  molt 
agreable  in  one  of  thefe  refpects,  appear  leaft  fo 
in  others  :  in  this  cafe,  all  other  things  being 
equal,  the  agreablenefs  of  a  propofed  object  of 

choice 


Sett.  II.  What  determines  the 
choice  will  be  in  a  degree  fome  way  compounded 
of  the  degree  of  good  fuppofed  by  the  judgment, 
the  degree  of  apparent  probability  or  certainty  of 
that  good,  and  the  degree  of  the  view  or  fenfe, 
or  livelinels  of  the  idea  the  mind  has,  of  that 
good  ;  becauie  all  together  concur  to  conftitute 
the  degree  in  which  the  object  appears  at  prelenc 
agreable ;  and  accordingly  volition  will  be  de 
termined. 

I  might  further  obferve,  the  ftate  of  the  mind 
that  views  a  propofed  object  of  choice,  is  another 
thing  that  contributes  to  the  agreablenefs  or  dif- 
agreablenefs  of  that  object  ;  the  particular  temper 
which  the  mind  has  "by  nature,  or  that  has  been 
introduced  and  eftabliihed  by  education,  example, 
cufbom,  or  fome  other  means  ;  or  the  trame  or 
ftate  that  the  mind  is  in  on  a  particular  occafion. 
That  object  which  appears  agreable  to  one,  does 
not  fo  to  another.  And  the  fame  objecl:  don't 
always  appear  alike  agreable  to  the  fame  perfon, 
at  different  times.  It  is  molt  agreable  to  fome 
men,  to  follow  their  reafon ;  and  to  others,  to 
follow  their  appetites  :  to  fome  men,  it  is  more 
agreable  to  deny  a  vicious  inclination,  than  to 
gratify  it :  others  it  fuits  belt  to  gratify  the  vileft 
appetites.  'Tis  more  difagreable  to  fome  men 
than  others,  to  counter-act  a  former  refolution. 
In  thefe  refpedts,  and  many  others  which  might 
be  mentioned,  different  things  will  be  mod  agre 
able  to  different  perfons  ;  and  not  only  fo,  but  to 
the  fame  perfons  at  different  times. 

But  poffibly  'tis  needlefs  and  improper,  to  men 
tion  the  frame  and  ftate  of  the  mind,  as  a  diilin£t 
ground  of  the  agreablenefs  of  objects  from  the 
other  two  mention'd  before  -,  viz.  The  apparent 
nature  and  circumftances  of  the  objedts  view'd, 

and 


j6  fa$*l  determines  He  Will.  l>art  I. 

and  the  manner  of  the  view  :  perhaps  if  we  ilrictly 
confider  the  matter,  the  different  temper  and  ftate 
of  the  mind  makes  no  alteration  as  to  the  agre- 
ablenefs  of  objects,  any  other  way,  than  as  it 
makes  the  objects  themfelves  appear  differently 
beautiful  or  deformed,  having-  apparent  pleafure 
or  pain  attending  them  :  and  as  it  occasions  the 
manner  of  the  view  to  be  different,  caufes  the 
idea  of  beauty  or  deformity,  pleafure  or  uneafi- 
nefs  to  be  more  or  lefs  lively. 

However,  I  think  fo  much  is  certain,  that  vo 
lition,  in  no  one  inftance  that  can  be  mentioned., 
is  otherwise  than  the  greatefl  apparent  good  is,  in 
the  manner  which  has  been  explain'd.  The  choice 
of  the  mind  never  departs  from  that  which,  at 
that  time,  and  with  refpect  to  the  direct  and  im 
mediate  objects  of  that  deciiion  of  the  mind,  ap 
pears  moll  agreable  and  pleafmg,  all  things  con- 
fidered.  If  the  immediate  objects  of  the  will  are 
a  man's  own  actions,  then  thole  actions  which 
appear  mofh  agreable  to  him  he  wills.  If  it  be 
now  moil  agreable  to  him,  all  things  coniukredj 
to  walk,  then  he  now  wiiis  to  v/alk.  If  it  be  now, 
upon  the  whole  of  what  at  prefent  appears  to  him, 
moft  agreable  to  fpeak,  then  he  chuies  to  fpeak  : 
if  it  fuits  him  beft  to  keep  filence,  then  he  chuies 
to  keep  iilence.  There  is  fcarcely  a  plainer  and 
more  univerfal  dictate  of  the  fenle  and  experience 
of  mankind,  than  that,  when  men  act  voluntarily, 
and  do  what  they  pleafe,  then  they  do  what  fuits. 
them  bed,  or  what  is  moil  agreable  to  them.  To 
lay,  that  they  do  what  they  pleafe,  or  what  pleafes 
them,  but  yet  don't  do  what  is  agreable  to  them, 
is  the  fame  thing  as  to  fay,  they  do  what  they 
pleafe,  but  don't  act  their  pleafure  ;  and  that  is  to 
fay,  that  they  do  what  they  pleafe,  and  yet  don't 
do  what  they  pleafe* 


Sect.  II.        What  determines  ike  Will*  1 7 

It  appears  from  thefe  things,  that  in  fome  fenfe* 
ike  Will  always  follows  the  loft  dictate  of  the  under* 
/landing.  But  then  the  underftanding  muft  be  taken 
in  a  large  fenfe,  as  including  the  whole  faculty  of 
perception  or  appreheniion,  and  not  meerly  what 
is  called  reafon  or  judgment.  If  by  the  diclate  of 
the  underftanding  is  meant  what  reafon  declares 
to  be  beft  or  moft  for  the  perfon's  happinefs,  tak 
ing  in  the  whole  of  its  duration,  it  is  not  true,  that 
the  Will  always  follows  the  laft  dictate  of  the  un 
derftanding.  Such  a  dictate  of  reafon  is  quite  a 
different  matter  from  things  appearing  now  moil 
agredble ;  all  things  being  put  together  which  per 
tain  to  the  mind's  p relent  perceptions,  apprehen 
fion  s  or  ideas,,  in  any  refpedt,  Altho*  that  dictate 
of  reafon,  when  it  takes  place,  is  one  thing  that 
is  put  into  the  fcales,  and  is  to  be  confidered  as 
a  thing  that  has  concern  in  the  compound  influ 
ence  which  moves  and  induces  the  Will ;  and  is 
one  thing  that  is  to  be  confidered  in  eftimatinsj 
the  degree  of  that  appearance  of  good  which  the 
Will  always  follows;  either  as  having  its  influence 
added  to  other  things,  or  fubdufted  from  them. 
When  it  concurs  with  other  things,  then  its  weight 
is  added  to  them,  as  put  into  the  fame  fcale ;  but 
when  it  is  againft  them,  it  is  as  a  weight  in  the 
oppofite  fcale,  where  it  refills  the  influence  of  other 
things:  yet  its  refiftance  is  often  overcome  by  their 
•greater  weight,  and  fo  the  ad:  of  the  Will  is  de 
termined  in  oppofition  to  it. 

The  things  which  I  have1  fald,  ffiay,  I  hope, 
ferve,  in  fome  meafure  to  illuftrate  and  confirm 
the  pofition  I  laid  down  in  the  beginning  of  this 
fection,  viz.  That  the  Will  is  always  determined  ly 
the  flrongeft  motive,  or  by  that  view  of  the  mind 
•which  has  the  greatefl  degree  of  previous  tendency 
to  excite  volition.  But  whether  I  have  been  fo 

C  happy 


i&  The  Nature  of  Neceffity.  Part  L 

happy  as  rightly  to  explain  the  thing  wherein  con- 
lifts  the  ftrength  cf  motives,  or  not,  yet  my  fail 
ing  in  this  will  not  overthrow  the  pofition  itfclf  * 
which  carries  much  of  its  own  evidence  with  it, 
and  is  the  thing  of  chief  importance  to  the  pnr- 
poie  of  the  enfuing  difcourie  :  And  the  truth  of  it, 
I  hope,  will  appear  with  great  clearnefs,  before! 
have  finifhed  what  I  have  to  fay  on  the  fubjed:  of 
human  liberty. 

SECTION    III. 

Concerning  the  Meaning  of  the  forms  Neceflity,  Im* 
poflibility,  Inability,  &c.  and  of  Contingence. 

THE  words  necejary^  impoffibk^  &:c.  are  abun 
dantly  ufed  in  controvei  fies  about  Free- Will 
and    moral  agency;    and   therefore   the  fenfe    in 
which  they  are  ufed,  fhould  be  clearly  underftood. 

Here  I  might  fay,  that  a,  thing  is  then  faid  to 
be  neceffary,  when  it  mud  be,  and  cannot  be  other* 
wife.  But  this  would  not  properly  be  a  definition 
of  Neceflity,  or  an  explanation  of  the  word,  any 
more  than  if  I  explained  the  word  mufty  by  there  be 
ing  a  Neceffity.  The  words  ;;/#/?,  can,  and  cannot, 
need  explication  as  much  as  the  words  necejfary,  and 
impoffible  •,  excepting  that  the  former  are  words  that 
children  commonly  ufe,  and  know  fomething  of 
the  meaning  of  earlier  than  the  latter. 

The  word  neceffary,  as  ufed  in  common  fpeech, 
is  a  relative  term  ;  and  relates  to  fome  fuppofed 
oppofition  made  to  the  exiflence  of  the  thing 
fpoken  of,  which  is  overcome,  or  proves  in  vain 
to  hinder  or  alter  it.  That  is  neceifary,  in  the 
original  and  proper  fenfe  of  the  word,  which  is, 
or  will  be,  notwithftanding  all  fuppofable  oppo 
fition* 


Seel.  III.          ¥he  Nature  of  Neceffity;  19 

iition.  To  fay,  that  a  thing  is  neceffary,  is  the  fame 
thing  as  to  fay,  that  it  is  impoffible,  it  fhould  not 
be  :  But  the  word  impojfible  is  manifeftly  a  relative 
term,  and  has  reference  to  fuppofed  power  exerted 
to  bring  a  thing  to  pafs,  which  is  infufEcient  for 
the  effect ;  as  the  word  unable  is  relative,  and  has 
relation  to  ability  or  endeavour  which  is  infuffi- 
cient ;  and  as  the  word  irrcftfiible  is  relative,  and 
has  always  reference  to  refinance  which  is  made, 
or  may  be  made  to  fome  force  or  power  tending  to 
an  effect,  and  is  infufficient  to  withfland  the  power, 
or  hinder  the  effect.  The  common  notion  of  Ne- 
ceffity  and  ImpofTibility  implies  ibmething  that 
frustrates  endeavour  or  defire. 

Here  feveral  things  are  to  be  noted. 

i.  Things  are  fkid  to  be  neceflary  iri  general^ 
which  are  or  will  be  notwithftanding  any  fuppo- 
fable  oppofition  from  us  or  others^  or  from  whatever 
quarter.  But  things  are  faid  to  be  neceffary  to  us, 
which  are  or  will  be  notwithftanding  all  oppofition 
fuppofable  in  the  c^{t  from  us.  The  fame  may  be 
obfervcd  of  the  word  impoj/jble,  and  other  fuch  like 


terms. 


2.  Thefe  terms  neceffary,  impojfibk,  irrefiftlble,  &c* 
do  efpecially  belong  to  controverfy  about  liberty 
and  moral  agency,  as  ufed  in  the  latter  of  the  two 
fenfes  now  mentioned,  viz.  as  neceflary  or  impof- 
iible  to  us,  and  with  relation  to  any  fuppofable  op 
pofition  or  endeavour  of  ours. 

3.  As   the  word    NeceJJity,    in  its   vulgar   and 
common  ufe,  is  relative,  and  has  always  reference 
to  fome  fuppofable  infufficient  oppofitidn ;-  fo  wThen 
we  fpeak  of  any  thing  as  neceflary  to  us,  it  is  w-ith 
relation  to  fome  fuppofable  oppofition  of  our  M^ills^- 

C  2  or 


20  fhe  Nature  of  Neceffity.  Part  L 

or  fome  voluntary  exertion  or  effort  of  ours  to  the 
contrary.  For  we  don't  properly  make  oppofition 
to  an  event,  any  otherwife  than  as  we  voluntarily 
oppofe  it.  Things  are  faid  to  be  what  muft  be,  or 
neceflarily  are,  as  to  us,  when  they  are,  or  will  be, 
though  we  defire  or  endeavour  the  contrary,  or 
try  to  prevent  or  remove  their  exiftence  :  bur  inch 
oppofition  of  ours  always  either  conlifts  in,  or  im 
plies  oppofition  of  our  wills. 

5Tis  manifeft  that  all  fuch  like  words  and 
phrafes,  as  vulgarly  ufed,  are  tifed  and  accepted 
in  this  manner.  A  thing  is  faid  to  be  neceflary, 
when  we  can't  help  it,  let  us  do  what  we  will.  So 
any  thing  is  faid  to  be  impojfible  to  us,  when  we 
would  do  it,  or  would  have  it  brought  to  pafs, 
and  endeavour  it  •,  or  at  lealt  may  be  fuppofed  to 
defire  and  feek  it  ;  but  all  our  defires  and  endea 
vours  are,  or  would  be  vain.  And  that  is  faid  to 
be  trrefiftibk)  which  overcomes  all  our  oppofition, 
refiftance,  and  endeavour  to  the  contrary,  And 
we  are  to  be  faid  unable  to  do  a  thing,  when  our 
fuppofable  defires  and  endeavours  to  do  it  are  in- 
fufficient. 

We  are  accuftomed,  in  the  common  life  of  lan 
guage,  to  apply  and  underfland  thefe  phrafes  in 
this  fenfe  :  we  grow  up  with  fuch  a  habit ;  which 
by  the  daily  uie  of  thefe  terms,  in  iuch  a  fenfe, 
from  our  childhood,  becomes  fixed  and  fettled ; 
fo  that  the  idea  of  a  relation  to  a  fuppofed  will, 
defire  and  endeavour  of  ours,  is  ftrongly  con- 
ne&ed  with  thefe  terms,  and  naturally  excited 
in  our  minds,  whenever  we  hear  the  words  ufed. 
Such  ideas,  and  thefe  words,  are  fo  united  and 
aflbciated,  that  they  unavoidably  go  together ; 
one  fuggefts  the  other,  and  carries  the  other  with 
it,  and  never  can  be  feparated  as  long  as  we 

live. 


i 


Seel.  III.         The  Nature  of  NeceiTiry.  i  jr 

live.  And  if  we  ufe  the  words,  as  terms  of  art, 
in  another  fenfe,  yet,  unlefs  we  are  exceeding  cir- 
cumiped  and  wary,  we  fhall  infenlibly  Hide  into 
the  vulgar  ufe  of  them,  and  fo  apply  the  words 
in  a  very  inconfiftent  manner :  this  habitual  con 
nection  of  ideas  will  deceive  and  confound  us  in 
our  reafonings  and  difcourfes,  wherein  we  pre 
tend  to  ufe  thefe  terms  in  that  manner,  as  terms 
of  art. 

4.  It  follows  from  what  has  been  obferved,  that1 
when  thefe  terms  neceffary,  impajfiblc,  irrefiftibk^  un*' 
able,  &c.  are  ufed  in  cafes  wherein  no  oppofition, 
or  inefficient  will  or  endeavour,  is  fuppofed,  or 
can  be  fuppofed,  but  the  very  nature  of  the  fup^ 
pofed  cafe  itfelf  excludes,  and  denies  any  fuch  op 
pofition,  will  or  endeavour,  thefe  terms  are  then  not 
ufed  in  their  proper  fignification,  but  quite  beiide 
their  ufe  in  common  fpeech.  The  reafon  is  manifefl; 
namely,  that  in  fuch  cafes  we  can't  ufe  the  words 
with  reference   to  a  fuppofable  oppofition,  will  or 
endeavour.    And  therefore  if  any  man  ufes  thefe 
terms  in  fuch  cafes,  he  either  ufes  them  nonfenfi- 
cally,  or  in  fome  newfenfe,  diverfe  from  their  ori 
ginal  and  proper  meaning.     As  for  inftance  ;  if  a 
man  fhould  affirm  after  this  manner,  That  it  is  ne- 
ceflary  for  a  man,  and  what  nuifl  be,   that  a  man 
fhould  chufe  virtue  rather  than  vice,  during  the 
time  that  he  prefers  virtue  to  vice  ^  and  that  it  is 
a  thing  impoffible  and  irrefiilible,  that  it  fhould  be 
otherwife  than  that  he  mould  have  this  choice,  fa 
long  as  this  choice  continues ;  fuch  a  man  would 
ufe  the  terms  mufty  Irre/iftlble^  &c.  with  perfect  in- 
iignificance  and  nonfenfe,  or  in  fome  new  fenfe, 
diverfe  from  their  common  ufe  ;  which  is  with  re 
ference,  as  has  been  obferved,  to  fuppofable  op 
pofition,   unwillingnefs   and   refiftance ;    whereas^ 
here,  the  very  luppofition  excludes  and  denies  any 

C  3  fuch 


22  ¥he  Nature  of  Neceftity.  Part  I. 

fvich  thing  :  for  the  cafe  fuppofed  is  that  of  being 
willing,  and  chufing, 

5.  It  appears  from  what  has  been  faid,  that  thefe 
terms  nec'effary*  impoffible,  &c.  are  often  ufed  by 
philofophers  apd  rnetaphyficia'ns  in  a  fenfe  quite 
diverfe  from  their  common  ufe  and  original  figni- 
fication  :  For  they  apply  them  to  many  cafes  in 
which  no  oppofition  is  fuppofed  or  fuppo.fable. 
Thus  they  ufe  them  with  refpedt  to  God's  exift- 
ence  before  the  creation  of  the  world,  when  there 
was  no  other  being  but  He:  fo  with  regard  to  ma-, 
ny  of  the  difpofitions  and  acts  of  the  divine  Being, 
fuch  as  his  loving  himfelf,  his  loving  righteoufneis, 
hating  fin,  &c.  So  they  apply  theie  terms  to  many 
cafes  W  the  inclinations  and  adtions  of  created  in 
telligent  beings,  angels  and  men  ;  wherein  all  op 
pofition  of  the  Will  is  fhut  out  and  denied,  in  the 
very  iuppofition  cf  the  cafe, 

Metaptyfical  or  Pbilofopbicat  Neceffity  is  nothing 
different  from  their  certainty,  I  fpeak  not  no\v 
of  the  certainty  of  knowledge,  but  the  certainty 
that  is  in  things  themfelves,  which  is  the  founda 
tion  of  the  certainty  of  the  knowledge  of  them ; 
or  that  wherein  lies  the  ground  of  the  infallibility 
of  the  proportion  which  affirms  them, 

What  is  fometimes  given  a,s  the  definition  of 
philoibphical  Neceffity,  namely,  T'hat  ly  which  & 
iking  cannot  but  be,  or  whereby-  it  cannot  be  othcrimfe^ 
jfjails  of  being  a.  proper  explanation  of  it,  on  two 
accounts :  Firft,  the  words  can,  or  cannot  *  need 
explanation  as  much  as  the  word  Necej/ity\  and 
the  former  may  as  well  be  explained  by  the  lat 
ter,  as  the  latter  by  the  former.  Thus,  if  any 
one  aiked  us  what  v%e  mean,  when  we  fay,  a  thing 
wnnotlut.be,  \ve  might  explain  ourfclvcs  by  fay- 


Sect.  Ill;         The  Nature  of  Neceflitjr.  23 

ing,  we  mean,  it  muft  neceffarily  be  fo ;  as  well 
as  explain  Neceffity,  by  faying,  it  is  that  by  which 
a  thing  cannot  but  be.  And  Secondly^  this  de 
finition  is  liable  to  the  fore-mentioned  great  incon 
venience  :  the  words  cannot,  or  unable^  are  pro 
perly  relative,  and  have  relation  to  power  exerted, 
or  that  may  be  exerted,  in  order  to  the  thing 
fpoken  of:  to  which,  as  I  have  now  obferved,  the 
word  Necejfityi  as  ufed  by  philofophers  has  no  re 
ference. 

Philofophical  Neceflity  is  really  nothing  elfe  than 
the  full  and  fixed  connection  between  the  things 
iignified  by  the  fubject  and  predicate  of  a  propo- 
fition,  which  affirms  fomething  to  be  true.  When 
there  is  fuch  a  connection,  then  the  thing  affirmed 
in  the  propofiticn  is  neceiiary,  in  a  philofophical 
fenfe  ;  whether  any  oppofition,  or  contrary  effort 
be  fuppofed,  or  fnppofable  in  the  cafe,  or  no, 
When  the  fubjecl:  and  predicate  of  the  proportion, 
which  affirms  the  exiftence  of  any  thing,  either 
fubftance,  quality,  act  or  circumftance,  have  a 
full  and  certain  connection,  then  the  exigence  or 
being  cf  that  thing  is  fa  id  to  be  neceffary  in  a 
metaphyncal  fenfe.  And  in  this  fenfe  I  ufe  the 
word  Neceffity,  in  the  following  difcourfe,  when  I 
endeavour  to  prove  that  Necejpty  is  not  inconji/lent 
with  liberty. 

The  fubject  and  predicate  of  a  propofiticm, 
which  affirms  exiftence  of  fomething,  may  have  a 
full,  fixed,  and  certain  connection  feveral  ways. 

( i .)  They  may  have  a  full  and  perfect  connection 
in  and  of  tbemfelves^  becaufe  it  may  imply  a  con 
tradiction,  or  grofs  abfurdity,  to  fuppofe  them  not 
connected.  Thus  many  things  are  necefiary  in 
their  own  nature.  So  the  eternal  exiitence  of 
C  4  being 


Nature  o/Necefilty.  Parti. 

being  generally  confidered,  is  neccifary  in  itfelf; 
becaufe  it  would  be  in  itfelf  the  greateft  abfurdity, 
to  deny  the  exiftence  of  being  in  general,  or  to 
fay  there  was  abfolute  and  nniverfal  nothing  ;  and 
is  as  it  were  the  fum  of  all  contradictions  ;  as 
might  be  fhev/n,  if  this  were'  a  proper  place  for 
it.  So  God's  infinity,  and  other  attributes  are  ne- 
cefTary.  So  it  is  neceffary  in  its  own  nature^  that 
two  and  two  mould  be  four  ;  and  it  is  neceffary, 
that  all  right  lines  drawn  from  the  center  of  a 
circle  to  the  circumference  Jhould  be  equal.  It 
is  neceffary,  fit  and  fuitable,  that  men  mould  do 
to  others,  as  they  would  that  they  mould  do  to 
them.  So  innumerable  metaphyfical  and  mathe 
matical  truths  are  neceffary  in  tbcmfelves  :  the  fub- 
jedt  and  predicate  of  the  propofition  which  affirms 
them,  are  perfectly  connected  of  themf elves* 

(2.)  The  connection  of  the  fubjeft  and  predi 
cate  of  a  propofition,  which  affirms  the  exiftence 
of  fomething,  may  be  fixed  and  made  certain,  be 
caufe  the  exiftence  of  that  thing  is  already  come 
to  pafs  ;  and  either  now  is,  or  has  been  j  and  fo 
has  as  it  were  made  fure  of  exiftence.  And  there 
fore,  the  propofition  which  affirms  prefcnt  and  paft 
exiftence  of  it,  may  by  this  means  be  made  cer 
tain,  and  neceffarily  and  unalterably  true  ;  the  pall 
event  has  fixed  and  decided  the  matter,  as  to  its 
exiftence  -,  and  has  made  it  impoffible  but  that  ex 
iftence  fhould  be  truly  predicated  of  it.  Thus  the 
exiftence  of  whatever  is  already  come  to  pafs,  is 
now  become  neceffary  ;  'tis  become  impoffible  it 
fnould  be  otherwjfe  than  true,  that  fuch  a  thing 
has  been, 

(3.)  The  fubject  and  predicate  of  a  propofi^ 
tion  which  affirms  fomething  to  be,  may  have 
g  real  anci  certain  connection  consequentially ;  and 

fo 


Sect.  III.        ?be  Nature  of  Neceffity.  25 

fo  the  exigence  of  the  thing  may  be  confequentially 
neceflary,  as  it  may  be  furely  and  firmly  connected 
with  fomething  elfe,  that  is  neceflary  in  one  of  the 
former  refpects.  As  it  is  either  fully  and  thoroughly 
connected  with  that  which  is  abfolutely  neceflary 
in  its  own  nature,  or  with  fomething  which  has 
already  received  and  made  fure  of  exigence.  This 
Neceflity  lies  in,  or  may  be  explained  by  the  con 
nection  of  two  or  more  proportions  one  with  an 
other.  Things  which  are  perfectly  connected  with 
other  things  that  are  neceflary,  are  neceflary  them- 
felves,  by  a  NecefTity  of  confequence. 

And  here  it  may  be  obferved,  that  all  things 
\vhich  are  future,  or  which  will  hereafter  begin  to 
be,  which  can  be  faid  to  be  neceflary,  are  neceflary 
only  in  this  laft  way.  Their  exiflence  is  not  necef- 
fary  in  itfelf ;  for  if  fo,  they  always  \vould  have 
exifted.  Nor  is  their  exiftence  become  neceflary 
by  being  made  fure,  by  being  already  come  topafs. 
Therefore,  the  only  way  that  any  thing  that  is  to 
come  to  pafs  hereafter,  is  or  can  be  neceflary,  is 
by  a  connection  with  fomething  that  is  neceflary 
in  its  own  nature,  or  fomething  that  already  is,  or 
has  been ;  fo  that  the  one  being  fuppofed,  the  other 
certainly  follows.  And  this  alfo  is  the  only  way 
that  all  things  paft,  excepting  thofe  which  were 
from  eternity,  could  be  neceflary  before  tbey  came  to 
fafs,  or  could  come  to  pafs  neceflarily  •,  and  there 
fore  the  only  way  in  which  any  effect  or  event,  or 
any  thing  whatsoever  that  ever  has  had,  or  will 
have  a  beginning,  has  come  into  being  neceflarily, 
or  will  hereafter  neceflarily  exift.  A  nd  therefore 
fkis  is  the  Neceflity  which  efpecially  belongs  to  con- 
troverfies  about  the  acts  of  the  will. 

It  may  be  of  fome  ufe  in  thefe  controversies, 
further  to  obferve  concerning  metapbyfital  Neceflity, 

that 


2  6  tte  Nature  <?/ Neceffity.  Part  I, 

that  (agreable  to  the  diftincHon  before  obferved  of 
Neceffity,  as  vulgarly  underftood)  things  that  exift 
may  be  faid  to  be  neceffary,  either  with  a  general 
or  particular  Neceffity.  The  exiftence  of  a  thing 
may  be  faid  to  be  neceffary  with  a  general  Ne 
ceffity,  when  all  things  whatsoever  being  confi- 
dered,  there  is  a  foundation  for  certainty  of  their 
exiftence ;  or  when  in  the  mod  general  and  uni- 
verfal  view  of  things,  the  fubjedt  and  predicate  of 
the  propofition,  which  affirms  its  exiftence,  would 
appear  with  an  infallible  connection, 

An  event,  or  the  exiftence  of  a  thing,  may  be 
faid  to  be  neceflary  with  a  particular  Neceffity,  or 
with  regard  to  a  particular  perfon,  thing  or  time, 
when  nothing  that  can  be  taken  into  confidera- 
tion,  in  or  about  that  perfon,  thing  or  time,  alters 
the  cafe  at  all,  as  to  the  certainty  of  that  event, 
or  the  exiftence  of  that  thing;  or  can  be  of  any 
account  at  all,  in  determining  the  infallibility  of 
the  connection  of  the  fubjedl  and  predicate  in 
the  proportion  which  affirms  the  exiftence  of  the. 
thing ;  fo  that  it  is  all  one,  as  to  that  perfon,  or 
thing,  at  leaft,  at  that  time,  as  if  the  exiftence 
were  neceffary  with  a  Neceffity  that  is  moft  univer* 
fal  and  abfolute.  Thus  there  are  many  things  that 
happen  to  particular  perlbns,  which  they  have  no 
hand  in,  and  in  the  exiftence  of  which  no  will 
of  theirs  has  any  concern,  at  leaft,  at  that  time ; 
which,  whether  they  are  neceiTary  or  nor,  with 
regard  to  things  in  general,  yet  are  neceffary  to 
them,  and  with  regard  to  any  volition  of  theirs 
ae  that  time;  as  they  prevent  all  ads  of 'the  will 

about  the  affair.- 1  fhall  have  occafion  to  apply 

this  obfervation  to  particular  inftances  in  the  fol 
lowing  difcourfe,- — Whether  the  fame  things  that 
are  neceffary  with  a  particular  Neceffity,  be  not  alib 
neceffary  with  a  general  Ncceffity,  may  be  a  matter 

of 


Seel.  III.          The  Nature  of  Neceffity.  27 

of  future  confideration.  Let  that  be  as  it  will,  it 
alters  not  the  cafe,  as  to  the  ufe  of  this  diflindion 
of  the  kinds  of  Necefiity. 

Thefe  things  may  be  fufficient  for  the  explain 
ing  of  the  terms  neceffary  and  NeceJJily9  as  terms 
of  art,  and  as  often  ufed  by  mttaphyficians,  and 
contrcverfial  writers  in  divinity,  in  a  fenfe  diverfe 
from,  and  more  extenlive  than  their  original  mean 
ing,  in  common  language,  which  was  before  ex 
plained,  ijuw 

What  has  been  faid  to  mew  the  meaning  of  the 
terms  mceff&ry  and  Neceffity  9-m^y -be  fufficient  for 
the  explaining  of  the  oppofite  terms,  impoffible  and 
impossibility .  For  there  is  no  difference,  but  only  the 
latter  are  negative,  and  the  former  pofitive,  Jm-. 
fnjfibility  is  the  fame  as  negative  Neceffity y  or  a  Ne- 
cdlity  that  a  thing  ihould  not  be.  And  it  is  ufed 
as  a  term  of  art  in  a  like  diverfity  from  the  ori 
ginal  and  vulgar  meaning,  with  Neceffity. 

The  fame  may  be  obferved  concerning  the 
words  unable  and  Inability.  It  has  been  obferved, 
that  thefe  terms,  in  their  original  and  common 
ufe,  have  relation  to  will  and  endeavour,  as 
fuppofable  in  the  cafe,  and  as  inefficient  for  the 
bringing  to  pafs  the  thing  wilFd  and  endeavoured. 
But  as  thefe  terms  are  often  ufed  by  philofophers 
and  divines,  efpecially  writers  on  controverfies 
about  Free-Wili,  they  are  ufed  in  a  quite  different, 
and  far  more  extenfive  fenfe,  and  are  applied  to 
many  cafes  wherein  no  will  or  endeavour  for  the 
bringing  of  the  thing  to  pafs,  is  or  can  be  fup- 
pofed,  but  is  actually  denied  and  excluded  in  the 
nature  of  the  cafe, 

As  ^the  words  nectflary,  impoffible,  unable,  &c. 
are  ufed  by  polemic  writers,  in  a  fenfe  diverfe 

from 


28  Of  natural  and  moral  Necefiity.       Part  I. 

from  their  common  fignification,  the  like  has  hap 
pened  to  the  term  contingent.  Any  thing  is  faid 
to  be  contingent,  or  to  come  to  pafs  by  chance  or 
accident,  in  the  original  meaning  of  fuch  words, 
when  its  connection  with  its  caufes  or  antecedents, 
according  to  the  eflablifhed  courfe  of  things,  is 
not  difcerned  ;  and  fo  is  what  we  have  no  means 
of  the  foreiight  of.  And  efpecially  is  any  thing 
laid  to  be  contingent  or  accidental  with  regard  to 
us,  when  any  thing  comes  to  pafs  that  we  are  con 
cerned  in,  as  occafions  or  fubjedis,  without  our 
foreknowledge,  and  befide  our  defign  and  fcope. 

But  the  word  contingent  is  abundantly  ufed  in 
a  very  different  fenfe ;  not  for  that  whofe  con- 
necYion  with  the  feries  of  things  we  can't  difcern, 
fo  as  to  forefee  the  event,  but  for  fomething  which 
has  abfolutely  no  previous  ground  or  reafon,  with 
which  its  exiflence  has  any  fixed  and  certain  con 
nection. 


SECTION     IV, 

Of  the  Diftinftion  of  natural  and  moral  Neceffity, 
and  Inability. 

Til  A  T  Necefilty  which  has  been  explained, 
confiding  in  an  infallible  connection  of  the 
things  iignified  by  the  fubject  and  predicate  of  a 
proportion,  as  intelligent  beings  are  the  fubjecls 
of  it,  is  diftinguiilied  into  moral  and  natural  Ne 
cefiity. 

I  fhall  not  now  ftand  to  enquire  whether  this 
diftindtion  be  a  proper  and  perfect  diftinc~tion  ; 
but  fli all  only  explain  how  thefe  two  forts  of  Ne- 
ceffity  are  u.nderftood,  as  the  terms  are  fometimes 

ufed, 


Sedt  IV.     Of  natural  and  moral  Neceffity.         2$ 

ufed,  and  as  they  are  ufed  in  the  following  dif- 
courfe. 

The  phrafe,  moral  Necejfity,  is  ufed  varioufly  * 
fometimes  it  is  ufed  for  a  Neceffity  of  moral  obli 
gation.  So  we  fay,  a  man  is  under  Neceffity, 
when  he  is  under  bonds  of  duty  and  confidence, 
which  he  can't  be  difcharged  from.  So  the  word 
Necejfity  is  often  ufed  for  great  obligation  in  point 
of  interefL  Sometimes  by  moral  Nccefilty  is  meant 
that  apparent  connection  of  things,  which  is  the 
ground  of  moral  evidence  ;  and  fo  is  diftinguimed 
from  abfolute  Neceffity^  or  that  fure  connection  of 
things,  that  is  a  foundation  for  infallible  certainty. 
In  this  fenfe,  moral  Neceffity  fignifies  much  the 
fame  as  that  high  degree  of  probability,  which, 
is  ordinarily  fufHcient  to  fatisfy,  and  be  relied  upon 
i>y  mankind,  in  their  conduct  and  behaviour  in 
the  world,  as  they  would  confult  their  own  fafety 
and  intereft,  and  treat  others  properly  as  members 
of  fociety.  And  fometimes  by  moral  Neceffity  is 
meant  that  Neceffity  of  connect  ion  and  confequence, 
which  arifes  from  luch  moral  cauj'es,  as  the  ftrength 
of  inclination,  or  motives,  and  the  connection 
which  there  is  in  many  cafes  between  thefe,  and 
fuch  certain  volitions  and  actions.  And  it  is  in 
this  fenfe,  that  1  ufe  the  phraie,  moral  Neceffity 9  in 
the  following  difcourfe. 

By  natural  NeceJ/ity,  as  applied  to  men,  I  mean 
fuch  Neceffity  as  men  are  under  through  the  force 
of  natural  caufes ;  as  diftinguifhed  from  what  are 
called  moral  caufes,  fuch  as  habits  and  difpo- 
fitions  of  the  heart,  and  moral  motives  and  in 
ducements.  Thus  men  placed  in  certain  circum- 
ftances,  are  the  fubjedts  of  particular  fenfations 
by  Neceffity  :  they  feel  pain  when  their  bodies 
are  wounded ;  they  fee  the  objects  prefented  before 

them 


JO          Of  natural  and  moral  Necefiity.    -    Part  L 

them  in  a  clear  light,  when  their  eyes  are  opened  : 
fo  they  affent  to  the  truth  of  certain  proportions, 
as  foon  as  the  terms  are  underftood  ;  as  that  two 
and  two  make  four,  that  black  is  not  white,  that 
two  parallel  lines  can  neves*  crofs  one  another  •,  io 
by  a  natural  Necefllty  mens -bodies  move  down 
wards,  when  there  is  nothing  to  fupport  them. 

But  here  feveral  things  may  be  noted  concerning 
thefe  two  kinds  of  Neceffity. 

i.  Moral  Necefiity  may  be  as  abfolnte,  as  natural 
Neceffity.  That  is,  the  effect  may  be  as  perfectly 
connected  with  its  moral  caufe,  as  a  natural  ne- 
ceffary  effect  is  with  its  natural  caufe.  Whether 
the  Will  in  every  cafe  is  necefTarily  determined  by 
the  ftrongeft  motive,  or  whether  the  Will  ever 
makes  any  refinance  co  fuch  a  motive,  or  can  ever 
oppofe  the  ftrongeft  prefent  inclination,  or  not ;  if 
that  matter  fhould  be  controverted,  yet  I  fuppofe 
none  will  deny,  but  that,  in  fome  cafes,  a  previous 
bias  and  inclination,  or  the  motive  prefented,  may 
be  fo  powerful,  that  the  act  of  the  Will  may  be 
certainly  and  induTolubly  connected  therewith. 
When  motives  or  previous  bias  are  very  ilrong,  all 
will  allow  that  there  is  fome  difficulty  in  going 
again  ft  them.  And  if  they  were  yet  ftronger,  the 
difficulty  would  be  ftill  greater.  And  therefore, 
if  more  were  ftill  added  to  their  flrength,  to  a  cer 
tain  degree,  it  would  make  the  difficulty  fo  great, 
that  it  would  be  wholly  impoffibjin  to  furmount  it ; 
for  this  plain  reafon,  becaufe  whatever  power  men 
may  be  fuppofed  to  have  to  furmount  difficulties, 
yet  that  power  is  not  infinite ;  and  fo  goes,  not  be 
yond  certain  limits.  If  a  man  can  furmount  ten 
degrees  of  difficulty  of  this  kind  with  twenty  de 
grees  of  ftrength,  becaufe  the  degrees  of  flrength 
are  beyond  the  degrees  of  difficulty;  yet  if  the 
difficulty  be  increafed  to  thirty,  or  an  hundred, 

or 


Sect.  IV.  Of  natural  and  moral  Neceflity.  3 1 
or  a  thoufand  degrees,  and  his  ftrength  not  alib 
increafed,  his  flrength  will  be  wholly  infufficient 
to  furmount  the  difficulty.  As  therefore  it  muft 
be  allowed,  that  there  may  be  fuch  a  thing  as  a 
fure  and  perfect  connection  between  moral  caufes 
and  effects  \  fo  this  only  is  what  I  call  by  the 
name  of  moral  Neceffity. 

2.  When  I  ufe  this  difllndlion  of  moral  and  na~ 
turd  Neceffity,  I  would  not  be  underftood  to  fup- 
pofe,  that  if  any  thing  comes  to  pafs  by  the  fcr- 
mer  kind  of  Neceffity,  the  nature  of  things  is  not 
concerned  in  it,  as  well  as  in  the  latter.  I  don't 
mean  to  determine,  that  when  a  moral  habit  or 
motive  is  fo  ftrong,  that  the  aft  of  the  Will  infal 
libly  follows,  this  is  not  owing  to  the  nature  of 
things.  But  thefe  are  the  names  that  thefe  two 
kinds  of  Neceffity  have  ufually  been  called  by  ; 
and  they  muft  be  dhtinguifhed  by  fome  names 
or  other ;  for  there  is  a  diftindtion  or  difference 
between  them,  that  is  very  important  in  its  confe- 
quences.  Which  difference  does  not  lie  fo  much 
in  the  nature  of  the  connection,  as  in  the  two  terms 
connected.  The  caufe  with  which  the  effect  is 
connected,  is  of  a  particular  kind  ;  viz.  that  which 
is  of  a  moral  nature ;  either  fome  previous  habi 
tual  difpofition,  or  fome  motive  exhibited  to  the 
undemanding.  And  the  effect  is  alfo  of  a  parti 
cular  kind  •,  being  likewife  of  a  moral  nature ; 
confiding  in  fome  inclination  or  volition  of  the 
foul  or  voluntary  action. 

I  fuppofe,  that  Neceffity  which  is  called  natural 
in  diftinction  from  tooYal  neceffity,  is  fo  called^ 
becaufe  meer  nature^  as  the  word  is  vulgarly  ufed, 
is  concerned,  without  any  thing  of  choice.  The 
word  nature  is  often  ufed  in  oppofition  to  choice ; 
not  becaufe  nature  has  indeed  never  any  hand  in 

our 


ji  Of  natural  and  moral  Necefiity.      Part  I, 

our  choice ;  but  this  probably  comes  to  pafs  by. 
means  that  we  firfl  get  our  notion  of  nature  from 
that  difcernible  and  obvious  courfe  of  events, 
which  we  obferve  in  many  things  that  our  choice 
has  no  concern  in  ;  and  eipecially  in  the  material 
world;  which,  in  very  many -parts  of  it,  we  eafily 
perceive  to  be  in  a  fettled  courfe  ;  the  ilated  order 
•and  manner  of  fucceilion  being  very  apparent* 
But  where  we  don't  readily  difcern  the  rule  and 
connection,  (though  there  be  a  connection,  accord 
ing  to  an  eftablifhed  law,  truly  taking  place)  we 
fignify  the  manner  of  event  by  fome  other  name* 
Even  in  many  things  which  are  feen  in  the  ma 
terial  and  inanimate  world,  which  don't  difcern-' 
ibly  and  obvioufly  come  to  pafs  according  to  any 
fettled  courfe,  men  don't  call  the  manner  of  the 
event  by  the  name  of  nature,  but  by  filch  names 
as  accident ,  ckance,  contingent,  &c.  So  men  make 
a  diflinction  between  nature  and  choice  ;  as  tho' 
they  were  coinpleatly  and  univerfally  diftinct. 
"Whereas,  I  fuppofe  none  will  deny  but  that  choice, 
in  many  cafes,  arifes  from  nature,  as  truly  as  other 
events.  But  the  dependence  and  connection  be 
tween  acts  of  volition  or  choice,  and  their  caufes, 
according  to  eftabliihed  laws,  is  not  fo  fenfi- 
ble  and  obvious.  And  we  obferve  that  choice 
is  as  it  were  a  new  principle  of  motion  and  action, 
different  from  that  eftabliihed  law  and  order  of 
things  which  is  mod  obvious,  that  is  feen  efpeci- 
ally  in  corporeal  and  fenfible  things  ;  and  alfo  the 
choice  often  interpofes,  interrupts  and  alters  the 
chain  of  events  in  thefe  external  objects,  and  caufes 
them  to  proceed  other  wife  than  they  would  do, 
if  let  alone,  and  left  to  go  on  according  to  the 
laws  of  motion  among  themfelves.  Hence  it  is 
fpoken  of  as  if  it  were  a  principle  of  motion  en 
tirely  diftinct  from  nature,  and  properly  fet  in  op- 
pofition  to  it.  Names  being  commonly  given  to 

things 


Sect.  IV.  moral  Neceffity.  ** 

things,  according  to  what  is  moft  obvious,  and  is 
fuggefted  by  what  appears  to  the  fenfes  without 
reflection  and  refearch. 

3.  It  muft  be  obferved,  that  in  what  has  been 
explained,  as  fignified  by  the  name  of  moral  Ne- 
ceffity,  the  word  Neceffity  is  not  ufed  according  to 
the  original  defign  and  meaning  of  the  word  : 
for,  as  was  obferved  before,  fuch  terms,  nece/ary, 
impoffible,  irreftftible,  &c.  in  common  fpeech,  and 
their  moft  proper  fenle,  are  always  relative ;  hav 
ing  reference  to  fome  fuppofable  voluntary  op- 
pofition  or  endeavour,  that  is  inefficient.  But  no 
fuch  oppofition,  or  contrary  will  and  endeavour, 
is  fuppofable  inkhe  cafe  of  moral  Neceffity  -  which 
is  a  certainty  of  the  inclination  and  will  itfelf ; 
which  does  not  admit  of  the  fuppofition  of  a 
will  to  oppofe  and  refift  it.  For  it  is  abfurd,  to 
fuppofe  the  fame  individual  will  to  oppofe  itfelf, 
in  its  prefent  aft-,  or  the  prefent  choice  to  be 
oppofite^  to,  and  refitting  prefent  choice :  as  ab- 
furd^as  it  is  to  talk  of  two  contrary  motions,  in 
the  fame  moving  body,  at  the  fame  time.  And 
therefore  the  very  cafe  fuppofed  never  admits  of 
any  trial,  whether  an  oppofmg  or  refilling  will 
can  overcome  this  Neceffity. 

What  has  been  faid  of  natural  and  moral  Ne 
ceffity,  may  ferve  to  explain  what  is  intended  by 
natural  and  moral  Inability.  We  are  faid  to  be  na 
turally  unable  to  do  a  thing,  when  we  can't  do  ic 
if  we  will,  becaufe  what  is  moft  commonly  called 
nature  don't  allow  of  it,  or  becaufe  of  fome  im 
peding  defed  or  obftacle  that  is  extrinfic  to  the 
will;  either  in  the  faculty  of  underftanding, 
conftitution  of  body,  or  external  objects.  Moral 
Inability  confifts  not  in  any  of  thefe  things ;  but 
cither  in  the  want  of  inclination  ;  or  the  ftrength 

D 


34  Of  moral  Inability.  Part  I . 

of  a  contrary  inclination ;  or  the  want  of  fufHcient 
motives  in  view,  to  induce  and  excite  the  act  of  the 
will,  or  the  ftrength  of  apparent  motives  to  the 
contrary.  Or  both  thefe  may  be  refolved  into  one-, 
and  it  may  be  faid  in  one  word,  that  moral  Inabi 
lity  confifts  in  the  oppofition  or  want  of  inclination. 
For  when  a  peribn  is  unable  to  will  or  chuie  iiich 
a  thing,  through  a  defect  of  motives,  or  prevalence 
of  contrary  motives,  it  is  the  fame  thing  as  his  be 
ing  unable  through  the  want  of  an  inclination,  or 
the  prevalence  of  a  contrary  inclination,  in  fuch 
circumftances,  and  under  the  influence  of  fuch 
views. 

To  give  fome  inftances  of  this  moral  Inability*—* 
A  woman  of  great  honour  and  chaitity  may  have  a 
moral  Inability  to  proilitute  herfelf  to  her  Have.  A 
child  of  great  love  and  duty  to  his  parents,  may 
be  unable  to  be  willing  to  kill  his  father.  A  very 
laicivious  man,  in  cafe  of  certain  opportunities  and 
temptations,  and  in  the  abfence  of  fuch  and  fuch 
reftraints,  may  be  unable  to  forbear  gratifying  his 
luft.  A  drunkard,  under  'fuch  ar.d  fuch  circum- 
ftances,  may  be  unable  to  forbear  taking  of  flrong 
drink.  A  very  malicious  man  may  be  unable  to 
exert  benevolent  ads  to  an  enemy,  or  to  defire  his 
profperity  :  yea,  fome  may  be  fo  under  the  power 
of  a  vile  difpofition,  that  they  may  be  unable  to 
love  thofe  who  are  mod  worthy  of  their  efteem  and 
affection.  A  flrong  habit  of  virtue,  and  great  de 
gree  of  holinefs  may  caule  a  moral  Inability  to  love 
wickednefs  in -general,  may  render  a  man  unable 
to  take  complacence  in  wicked  perfons  or  things-; 
or  to  chule  a  wicked  life,  and  prefer  it  to  a  virtu 
ous  life.  And  on  the  dther  hand,  a  great  degree  of 
habitual  wickednefs  may  lay  a  man  under  an  Ina 
bility  to  love  and  chuie 'holinefs ;  and  render  him 
utterly  unable  to  love  an  infinitely  holy  Being,  or 
to  chufe  and  cleave  to  him  as  his  chief  good. 

Here 


Sed.  IV.  Of  moral  Inability.  35 

f-Jere  it  m,ay  be  of  ufe  to  obferve  this,  diftino 
tioQ  of  raocal  Jnab.ility,  viz.  of  that  which  is  ge 
nes  a  I  and  habitual,  and  that  which  is  particular  and, 
occajioiiaL  By  a  general  and,  habitual  mqral  Inabi 
lity,  I  mean,  an,  inability  in  the  tieatt  to  all  ex- 
erciies  or  acts  of  will  of  that  nature  or  kind, 
tbro.ugh  a  fixed  and  habitual  inclination,  or  an 
habitual  and  dated  defedt,  pr  want  o.f  a  certain 
kind  of  inclination.  Thus  a  very  ill-natured  man 
may  be  unable  to  exert  fuch  acts  of  benevolence, 
as  another,  who  is  full  of  good  nature,  com 
monly  exe.rts;  and  a  man,  whole  Jjeart  is  habitu 
ally  voic}  of  gratitude,  may  be  qnable  to  exert 
fuch  and  fuch  grateful  a.<5ts,  through  tfrat  ftated 
defect  of  a  grateful  inclination.  By  particular  and 
o.,c.cajio.nal  moral  Inability,  |  mean  an  Inability  of 
ihe  will  or  heart  to  a  particular  a6t,  through  the 
flrength  or  defect  of  prefent  motives,  or  of  in 
ducements  prefented  to  the  yievy  of  thq  under- 
Handing,  on' tins  occafion.  •  If  "it  be  fo,  that  the 
will  is  always  determined  by  the  ftrongeft  mo 
tive,  then  it  rnuft  always  have  an  Inability,  in 
this  latter  fenfe,  to  aci:  otherwife  than  it  doqs  ;  it 
not  being  poflible,  in  any  c;afe,  that  the  will 
ihouki,  at  prcf^nt,  go  againil  the  motive  which 
ha?  now,  all  things  confidcred,  the  greateft  ftrength 

and  advantage  to  excite  and  ipduce  it. The 

former  of  thefe  kinds  of  moral  Inability,  con- 
fifting  in  that  which  is  ftated,  habitual  and  ge 
nera),  iar  moft  commonly  called  by  the  name  -of 
Inability  -,  bec^uff  the  word  Inability,  in  its  moft 
proper  and  original  fignification,  has  refpedt  to 
fome  fated  deft  ft.  And  this  efpecially  obtains  the 
name  of  Liability  alfo  upon  another  account : — • 
I  before  observed,  that  the,  wor,d  Inability  in  its 
original  and  moft  common  ufe,  is  a  relative 
term ;  and  has  refpeft  to  will  and  endeavour, 
as  fuppofable  in  the  cafe,  and  as  infufficient  to 
D  2  bring 


g  6  Of  moral  Inability.  Part  I, 

bring  to  pafs  the  thing  deiired  and  endeavoured. 
Now  there  may  be  more  of  an  appearance  and 
lhadow  of  this,  with  refpect  to  the  acts  which 
arife  from  a  fixed  and  ftrong  habit,  than  others 
that  arife  only  from  tranfient  occalions  and  canfes. 
Indeed  will  and  endeavour  .againft,  or  diverfe 
from  prefent  acts  of  the  will,  are  in  no  cafe  fup- 
pofable,  whether  thofe  acts  be*occafional  or  ha- 
bitual ;  for  that  would  be  to  fuppofe  J:he  will, 
at  prefent,  to  be  otherwife  than,  at  prefent,  it 
is.  But  yet  there  may  be  will  and  endeavour 
againil  future  acts  of  the  will,  or  volitions  that 
are  likely  to  take  place,  as  viewed  at  a  diflance. 
'Tis  no  contradiction,  to  fuppofe  that  the  acts  of 
the  will  at  one  time,  may  be  againft  the  acts  of 
the  will  at  another  time  ;  and  there  may  be  de- 
fires  and  endeavours  to  prevent  or  excite  future 
acts  of  the  will  ;  but  fuch  defires  and  endea 
vours  are,  in  many  cafes,  rendered  infufficient  and 
vain,  through  fixednefs  of  habit :  when  the  oc- 
cafion  returns,  'the  ftrength  of  habit  overcomes, 
and  baffles  all  fuch  oppofition.  In  this  refpect,  a 
man  may  be  in  miferable  flavery  and  bondage  to 
a  ftrong  habit.  But  it;may  be  comparatively  eafy 
to  make  an  alteration  with  refpect  to  fuch  future 
acts,  as  are  only  occafional  and  traniient ;  be- 
caufe  the  occalion  or  traniient  caufe,  if  forefeen, 
may  often  eaiily  be  prevented  or  avoided.  On 
this  account,  the  moral  Inability  that  attends  fixed 
habits,  efpecially  obtains  the  name  of  Inability. 
And  then,  as  the  will  may  remotely  and  indirectly 
refiil  itfelf,  and  do  it  in  vain,  in  the  cafe  of  ftrong 
habits  •,  fo  reafon  may  refift  prefent  acts  of  the 
will,  and  its  refiftance  be  infufficient  ;  and  this  is 
more  commonly  the  cafe  alfo,  when  the  acts  arife 
from  ftrong  habit. 

-     r  -  But 


Sect.  IV.  Of  moral  Inability.  37 

•    But  it  mull  be  obferved  concerning  moral  In 
ability,  in  each  kind  of  it,  that  the  word  Inability 
is  ufed  in  a  fenfe  very  diverfe  from  its  original 
import.     The  word  iignifies   only  a  natural  In 
ability,  in  the  proper  uie  of  it ;  and  is  applied  to 
fuch  cafes  only  wherein  a  prefent  will    or  incli 
nation  to  the  thing,  with  refpect  to  which  a  per- 
fon  is  faid  to  be  unable,  is  fuppofable.     It  can't 
be   truly  faid,  according  to  the  ordinary  ufe  of 
language,  that  a  malicious  man,  let  him  be  never 
fo  malicious,  can't  hold  his  hand  from  finking* 
or  that  he  is  not  able  to  mew  his  neighbour  kind- 
nefs ;  or  that  a  drunkard,  let  his  appetite  be  never 
fo  ftrong,  can't  keep  the  cup  from  his  mouth. 
In   the  ftrictefl  propriety  of  fpeech,  a  man  has 
a  thing  in  his  power,  if  he  has  it  in  his  choice, 
or  at  his  election  :  and  a  man  can't  be  truly  faid 
to  be  unable  to  do  a  thing,  when  he  can  do  it 
if  he  will.     It  is  improperly  faid,  that  a  perfon 
can't  perform  thofe  external  actions,    which  are 
dependent  on  the   act  of    the  will,    and  which 
would  be  ealily  performed,  if  the  act  of  the  will 
were  prefent.     ,And  if  it  be  improperly  faid,   that 
he  cannot  perform  thofe  external  voluntary  actions, 
which  depend  on  the  will,  it  is  in   fome  refpect 
more  improperly  faid,  that  he  is  unable  to  exert 
the  acts  of  the  will  themfelves ;  becaufe  it  is  more 
evidently  falfe,  with  refpect  to  thefe,  that  he  can't 
if  he  will :  for  to  fay  fo,  is  a  down-right  contra 
diction  :    it   is  to  fay,    he  can't  will,    if  he  does 
will.     And  in  this  cafe,  not  only  is   it  true,  that 
it  is  eafy  for  a  man  to  do  the  thing  if  he  will, 
but  the  very   willing  is  the  doing;  when  once 
he   has  willed,  the  thing  is  performed  •,  and  no 
thing  elfe  remains  to  be  done.  Therefore,  in  thefe 
things  to  afcribe  a  non-performance  to  the  want 
of  power  or   ability,    is    not  juft  •,    becaule  the 
thing  wanting  is  not  a  being  able^  but  a  being 

D  3  willing. 


38  The  Notion  'of  Liberty,  Part  I, 

wilting.  There  are  faculties  of  mind,  and  capa 
city  of  nature,  'and  every  thing  elfe,  fiifficient* 
but  a  diipofition  :  nothing  is  wanting  but  a  wiii. 

SECTION     V, 

Concerning  the  Notion  of  Liberty,  and  of  moral 
Agency. 

THE  "plain  and  obvious  meaning  of  the  words 
Freedom  and  Liberty,  in  common  fpeech, 
is  power,  'opportunity,  or  advantage,  that  'any  one  has, 
to  do  as  be:pkafes.  Or  in  other  words,  his  being 
free  from  hinderance  or  impediment  in  the  way 
of  doing,  or  conducting  in  any  refpect,  as  he 
wills.  *  And  the  contrary  "to  Liberty,  whatever 
name  we  call  that  by,  is  a  peribn's  being  hindered 
or  unable  to  conduct:  as  he  will,  or  being  necefii- 
tated  to  do  otherwife. 

If  this  which  I  have  mentioned  be  the  meaning 
of  the  word  Liberty,  in  the  ordinary  ufe  of  lan 
guage  ;  as  I  trull  that  none  that  has  ever  learned 
to  talk,  and  is  unprejudiced,  will  deny ;  then  it 
.will  follow,  that  in  propriety  of  fpeech,  neither 
•Liberty,  nor  its  contrary,  can  properly  be  af- 
cribed  to  any  being  or  thing,  but  that  which  has 
fuch  a  faculty,  power  or  property,  as  is  called 
will.  For  that  which  is  poffeifed  of  no  fuch 
thing  as  willj  can't  have  any  power  or  opportu 
nity  of  doing  according  to  its  will,  nor  be  necefii- 
tated  to  act  contrary  to  its  will,  nor  be  retrained 
from  acting  agreably  to  it.  And  therefore  to' talk 

of 

*  I  fay  not  only  doing*  but  conducing ;  becaufe  a  voluntary 
forbearing  to  do,  fitting  flill,  keeping  iilence,  &c.  are  in- 
ftances  of  perfons  c'ondud*  about  which  Liberty  is  exercl&d  ; 
though  they  are  not  fo  properly  called  doing* 


.  V.  and  of  moral  Agency.'  39 

of  Liberty,  or  the  contrary,  as  belonging  to  the 
Very  ivill  ItfelL  is  not  to  fpeak  good  fenfe ;  if  we 
judge  of  fenie,  and  nonfenfc,  by  the  original  and 
proper  fignification  of  words.  For  the  will  it- 
fetfis  not  an  Agent  that  has  a  will:  the  power 
•of  chufing,  itfelf,  has  not  a  power  of  chufing. 
That  which  has  the  power  of  volition  or  choice 
is  the  man  or  the  foul,  and  not  the  power  of  vo? 
lition  itfelf,  And  he  that  has  the  Liberty  of  doing 
according  to  his  will,  is  the  Agent  or  doer  who  is 
poffeffed  of  the  will  ;  and  not  the  will  which  be 
js  pofleiTed  of.  We  fay  with  propriety,  that  a 
bird  Jet  loofe  has  power  and  Liberty  to  fly;  but  not 
that  the  bird's  power  of  flying  has  a  power  and 
Liberty  of  flying.  To  be  free  is  the  property  of 
an  Agent,  who  is  pofiefled  of  powers  and  faculties, 
as  much  as  to  be  cunning,  valiant,  bountiful,  or 
zealous.  But  thefe  qualities  are  the  properties 
of  men  or  perfons ;  and  not  the  properties  pf  pro,* 
perries, 

There  are  two  things  that  are  contrary  to  this 
which  is  called  Liberty  in  common  fpeech.  One  is 
conjlramt ;  the  fame  is  otherwife  called  force,  coiq- 
puljion,  and  coflfitiw  \  which  is  a  perfon's  being  ne- 
ceflitated  to  do  a  thing  contrary  to  his  will.  The 
othsr  is  r-eftrflint ;  which  is  his  being  hindered,  and 
not  having  power  to  do  according  to  his  will.  But 
that  which  has  no  will,  can't  be  the  fubjectof  thefe 
things. — I  need  fay  the  leis  on  this  head,  Mr.  Locke 
having  fet  the  fame  thing  forth,  with  fo  great  clear- 
nefs,  in  his  Eff&y  on  the  Human  IJnfcrjl anting. 

But  one  thing  more  I  would  obferve  concern 
ing  what  is  vulgarly  called  Liberty  •,  namely,  that 
power  and  opportunity  for  one  to  do  and  conduct 
as  he  will,  or  according  to  his  choice,  is  all  that 
is  meant  by  itj  without  taking  into  the  meaning 

P  4  "  $ 


40  The  Notion  of  Liberty,  Part  I. 

of  the  word,  any  thing  of  the  caufe  or  original  of 
that  choice ;  or  at  all  confidering  how  the  perfon 
came  to  have  fuch  a  volition  •,  whether  it  was 
-caufed  by  fome  external  motive,  or  internal  habi- 
•tual  bias  ;  whether  it  was  determined  by  fome  in 
ternal  antecedent  volition,  or  whether  it  happened 
.without  a  caufe  ;  whether  it  was  neceflarily  con 
nected  with  fomething  foregoing,  or  not  connected. 
Let  the  perfon  come  by  his  volition  or  choice  how 
he  will,  yet,  if  he  is  able,  and  there  is  nothing  in 
the  way  to  hinder  his  purfuing  and  executing  his 
will,  the  man  is  fully  and  perfectly  free,  according 
to  the  primary  and  common  notion  of  freedom. 

What  has  been  faid  may  be  fufficient  to  ihew 
.what  is  meant  by  Liberty,  according  to  the  com 
mon  notions  of  mankind,  and  in  the  ufual  and 
primary  acceptation  of  the  word :  but  the  word, 
as  ufed  by  Arminians,  Pelagians  and  others,  who 
oppofe  the  Cahintfts,  has  an  entirely  different  fig- 
nification. — Thefe  feveral  things  belong  to  their 
notion  of  Liberty,  i.  That  it  confiils  in  a  felf- 
deternnning  'power  in  the  will,  or  a  certain  fove- 
reignty  the  will  has  over  itfelf,  and  its  own 
acts,  whereby  it  determines  its  own  volitions  ; 
fo  as  not  to  be  dependent  in  its  determinations, 
on  any  caufe  without  itfelf,  nor  determined  by 
any  thing  prior  to  its  own  acts.  2.  Indifference 
belongs  to  Liberty  in  their  notion  of  it,  or  that 
the  mind,  previous  to  the  act  of  volition  be,  in 
equilibria.  3.  Contingence  is  another  thing  that 
belongs  and  is  eflential  to  it ; .  not  in  the  common 
acceptation  of  the  word,  as  that  has  been  already 
explained,  but  as  oppofed  to  all  rieceffity,  or  any 
fixed  and  certain  connexion  with  fome  previ 
ous  ground  or  reafon  of  its  exigence.  They  fup- 
pofe^the  effence  of  Liberty  fo  much  to  confift 
in  thefe  things,  that  unlefs  the  will  of  man  _  be 

free 


SecL  V.  and  of  moral  Agency.  41 

free  in  this  fenfe,  he  has  no  real  freedom,  how 
much  foever  he  maybe  at  Liberty  to  acl:  according 
to  his  will. 

A  moral  Agent  is  a  being  that  is  capable  of  thofe 
actions  that  have  a  moral  quality,  and  which  can 
properly  be  denominated  good  or  evil  in  a  moral 
fenfe,  virtuous  or  vicious,  commendable  or  faulty. 
.To  moral  Agency  belongs  a  moral  faculty ',  or  fenfe 
of  moral  good  and  evil,  or  of  fuch  a  thing  as  de~ 
;fert  or.  worthinefs,  of  praife  or  blame,  reward  or 
,punifhment;  and  a  capacity  which  an  Agent  has 
of  being  influenced  in  his  actions  by  moral  induce 
ments  or  motives,  exhibited  to  the  view  of  under- 
Handing  and  reafon,  to  engage  to  a  conduct  agre- 
able  to  the  moral  faculty. 

The  fun  is  very  excellent  and  beneficial  in  its 
aftion  and  influence  on  the  earth,  in  warming 
it,  and  caufing  it  to  bring  forth  its  fruits ;  but 
it  is  not  a  moral  Agent :  its  action,  though  good, 
is  not  virtuous  or  meritorious.  Fire  that  breaks 
out  in  a  city,  and  confumes  great  part  of  it,  is 
very  mifchievous  in  its  operation ;  but  is  not  a 
moral  Agent :  what  it  does  is  not  faulty  or  finful, 
or  deferving  of  any  punifhment.  The  brute  crea 
tures  are  not  moral  Agents:  the  actions  of  fome 
of  them  are  very  profitable  and  pleafant ;  others 
are  very  hurtful :  yet,  feeing  they  have  no  moral 
faculty, or  fenfe  of  defert,  and  don't  aft  from  choice 
guided  by  underflanding,  or  with  a  capacity  of 
reafoning  and  reflecting,  but  only  from  inflind:, 
and  are  not  capable  of  being  influenced  by  moral 
inducements,  their  actions  are  not  properly  finful 
or  virtuous  ;  nor  are  they  properly  the  fubjedls  of 
any  fuch  moral  treatment  for  what  they  do,  as 
moral  Agents  are  for  their  faults  or  good  deeds.  >i 
i  Here 


42  fbe  Notion  of  Liberty,  Part  I. 

Here  it  may  be  noted,  that  there  is  a  circum- 
ftantiai  difference  between  the  moral  Agency  of  a 
ruler  and  nfubjeft.  I  call  it  circumftanttm,  becaufe 
it  lies  only  in  the  difference  of  moral  inducements 
they  are  capable  of  being  influenced  by,  arifing 
•from  the  difference  of  circum fiances.  A  ruler  act 
ing  in  that  capacity  only,  is  not  capable  of  being 
influenced  by  a  -moral  law,  and  its  fanctions  of 
threatnings  and  -prorniles,  rewards  and  punifhments, 
-as  the  fubjeft  is ;  though  both  may  be  influenced 
i>y  a  knowledge  of  moral  good  and  evil.  And 
therefore  the  moral  Agency  of  the  Supreme  Being, 
•\vho  acts  only  -in  the  capacity  of  a  ruler  towards 
-his  creatures,  end  never  as  a  fubjeft,  differs  in  that 
-refpect  from  the  moral  Agency  of  created  intelli 
gent  beings.  God's  actions,  and  particularly  thofe 
which  he  exerts  as  a  moral  governor,  have  moral 
.-qualifications,  are  morally  good  in  the  higheft  de- 
;gree.  They  are  rnofl  'perfectly  holy  and  righteous ; 
and  we  muil  conceive  of  -Him  as  influenced  in  the 
.higheft  degree,  -by  that  which,. above  all  others,  is 
properly  a  -moral  inducement ;  viz.  the  moral 
good  "which  He  fees  in  fuch  and  fuch  things: 
*and  'therefore  He  is,  in  the  .rnoft  proper  fenfe, 
-a  moral  Agent,  the  fource  of  all  moral  ability 
and  Agency,  ?the  fountain  and  rule  of  all  virtue 
and  moral  good  ;  -though  -by  reafon  of  his  being 
Supreme  ovrr  ail,  'tis  not  poffible  He  fhould  be 
under  the  influence  of  law  or  command,  promifes 
'.or •.threatnings,  rewards  .or  punifhments,  counfels 
*or  warnings.  The  eifential  qualities  of  a  moral 
Agent  are  in  God,  in  the  greateil  poffible  perfec- 
ftk>n  ;  fuch  as  underitandkig,  to  perceive 'the  diffe 
rence  between  moral  good  .and  evil ;  a  capacity  of 
clifccrning  that  moral  worthiness  and  demerit,  by 
which  fome  things  are  praafe-worthy,  others  de- 
ferving  of  blame  a^d  puniihment ;  and  alfo  a  ca 
pacity  of  choice,  and  choice  guided  by  underffond- 


Sect.  V.  find  of  moral  Agency.  43 

ing,  and  a  power  of  acting  according  to  his  choice 
or  -pleafure>  and  being  capable  of  doing  thole 
things  which  are  in  the  higheft  fenfe  praife- worthy. 
And  herein  docs  very  much  confifl  that  image  of 
God  wherein  he  made  man,  (which  we  read  of 
Gen.  I.  26,  2,7.  and '  €bap.  I-X.  6.)  by  which  God 
diftinguiihed  man  from  the  beads,  viz.  in  thofe 
faculties  and  principles  of  nature,  whereby  He  is 
capable  of  'fnorfcl  Agency.  'Herein  Very^  -much 
confifts  the  natural  image  of  God  ;  as  his  fpintual 
and  moral  image,  wherein  man  was  made  at  firft, 
confided  Jm  that  moral  exc^kticy,  that  -he  .was 
endowed  with. 


P  A  R  T 


(     44     ) 


PART    II.        !S> 

Wherein  it  is  considered  whether  there 
is  or  can  be  any  fuch  Sort  of  FREE- 

,  ,DOM  OF  WILL,  as  that  wherein  Ar~ 
rninians  place  the  Effence  of  the 
Liberty  of  all  moral  Agents  ;  and 
whether  any  fuch  Thing  ever  was 
or  can  be  conceived  of. 


S  E  C  T  I  O  K       I. 

Shewing  the  manifefl  In.confrftence  of  the  Arminian 
Notion  of  Liberty  of  Will,  conjtfting  in  the  Will's 
felf-determining  Power. 

H'AVING  taken  notice  of  thofe  things  which 
may  be  neceflary  to  be  obferved,  concern 
ing  the  meaning  of  the  principal  terms  and 
phrafes  made  ufe  of  in  controveriies  concerning 
human  Liberty,  and  particularly  obferved  what 
Liberty  is  according  to  the  common  language 
and  general  apprehenfion  of  mankind,  and  what 
it  is  as  underftood  and  maintained  by  Arminians ; 
I  proceed  to  confider  the  Arminian  notion  of  the 
Freedom  of  the  Will,  and  the  fuppofed  neceflity  of 
it  in  order  to  moral  agency,  or  in  order  to  any 


Se&.  I.  ?he  Inconfiftence,  &c;  4* 

one's  being  capable  of  virtue  or  vice,  and  pro 
perly  the  fubjecl  of  command  or  counfel,  praife  or 
blame,  promifes  or  threatnings,  rewards  or  punifh- 
ments  ;  or  whether  that  which  has  been  defcrtbed, 
as  the  thing  meant  by  Liberty  in  common  fpeech, 
be  not  fufficient,  and  the  only  Liberty,  which 
makes,  or  can  make  any  one  a  moral  agent,  and 
fo  properly  the  fubjedl  of  thefe  things.  In  this 
Party  I  mail  confider  whether  any  fuch  thing  be 
poilible  or  conceivable,  as  that  Freedom  of  Will 
which  Armenians  infift  on  ;  and  fhall  enquire,  whe 
ther  any  fuch  fort  of  Liberty  be  neceflary  to  moral 
agency,  fcfa.  in  the  next  Part. 

And  firft  of  all,  I  fhall  confider  the  notion  of  a 
f  elf  -deter  mining  Power  in  the  will  :  wherein,  ac 
cording  to  the  ArminianSy  does  mod  effentially 
confift  the  Will's  Freedom  ;  and  fhall  particularly 
enquire,  whether  it  be  not  plainly  abfurd,  and  a 
manifeft  inconfiftence,  to  fuppofe  that  the  will  itfelf 
determines  all  the  free  affs  of  the 


Here  I  ihall  not  infift  on-  the  great  impropriety 
of  fuch  phrafes,  and  ways  of  Ipeaking,  as  the 
bill's  determining  itfelf;  becaufe  actions  are  to  be 
afcribed  to  agents,  and  not  properly  to  the  pow 
ers  of  agents  -,  which  improper  way  of  fpeaking' 
leads  to  many  miftakes,  and  much  confufion,1 
as  Mr.  Locke  obferves.  But  I  fhall  fuppofe  that 
the  Arminians,  \vhen  they  fpeak  of  the  Will's  de 
termining  itfelf,  do  by  the  Will  mean  the  foul 
•willing.  I  fhall  take  it  for  granted,  that  when  they 
fpeak  of  the  Will,  as  the  determiner,  they  mean 
the  foul  in  the  exercife  of  a  power  of  willing,  or 
acting  voluntarily.  I  mail  fuppofe  this  to  be  their 
meaning,  becaufe  nothing  elfe  can  be  mtaiit,  with 
out  the  groffeft  and  plaineft  abfurdhy.  Jn  all 

cafes  when  we  fpeak  of  the  powers  or  principles 
ni  of 


4§  ?£<•  IncGnfiflence  of  Part  II. 

of  a6ting,  as.  doing  fuch,  things,  we  mean  thae 
the  agents  which  hay$  tliefe  Powers  of  a&ing,  da 
them,  in  the  exerciie  of  tfcoib  powers.  So  when, 
\ve  fay,  valour  %ht.s  coufageoufly,  we  mean,  the 
man  who  is  under  the  influence  of  valour  fights 
courageously,  When  we  fay,  love  fpefcs  the  ob 
ject  loved,  we  mean,  the  per' fon  lovi^  leeks  that 
object.  When  vve  lay,  the  underfbnt}ing  difcerns, 
we  mean  the  fouj  in  the  exerciie  of  that  faculty. 
So  when  it  is  faid,  the  \\i\\  decides  or  determine?, 
the  meaning  muft  be,  that  the  perfon  in  the  exer- 
cife  of  a  Power  of  willing  and  chufing,  or  the  foul 
acting  voluntarily,  determines. 

Therefore,  if  the  Will  determines  all 'its  own 
free  ads,  the  foul  determines  all  the  free  acts  of 
the  will  in  the  exerciie  of  a  Power  of  willing 
and  chufing ;  or,  \yhich  is  the  fame  thing,  it 
determines  them  of  choice  \  it  determines  its  own 
acts  by  chufing  its  own,  acts.  If  the  Will  de 
termines  the  Will,  then  choice  orders  and  deter 
mines  the  choice :  and  acts  of  choice  are  fub- 
j£ct  to  the  decifion,  and  follow  the  conduct  of 
other  acts  of  choice.  And  therefore  if  the  Will 
determines  all  its  own  free  acts,  then  every  free 
act  of  choice  is  determined  by  a  preceding  act 
of  choice,  chufing  that  act.  And  if  thac  pre 
ceding  act  of  the  Will  or  choice  be  alfo  a  free 
act,  then  by  thefe  principles,  in  this  act  too,  the 
Will  is  felf-determined :  that  is,  this,  in  like 
manner,  is  an  act  that  the  foul  voluntarily  chufes ; 
or,  which  is  the  fame  thing,  it  is  an  act  deter 
mined  flill  by  a  preceding  act  of  the  Will,  chu- 
iing  that.  And  the  like  may  again  be!  obferved 
of  the  lad  mentioned  act.  Which  brings  us  di 
rectly  to  a  contradiction :  for  it  fuppofes  an  act 
of  the  Will  preceding  th£  fir  ft  act  in  die  whole 
train,  directing  and  de-termining  the  reft ;  or  a 

free 


Sect.  I.  Self-determining  Power.  4? 

free  act  of  the  Will,  before  the  firft  free  act  of 
the  Will.  Or  elfe  we  muft  come  at  laft  to  an  adt 
of  the  Will,  determining  the  coniequent  ads, 
wherein  the  Will  is  not  felf-determined,  and  fo  is 
not  a  free  act,  in  this  notion  of  freedom  :  but  if 
the  firft  act  in  the  train,  determining  and  fixing 
the  reft,  be  not  free,  none  of  them  all  can  be  free; 
as  is  manifeft  at  firil  view,  but  lhall  be  demon- 
ftrated  prefently. 

If  the  Will,  which  we  find  governs  the  mem 
bers  of  the  body  and  determines  and  commands 
their  motions  and  actions,  does  alfo  govern  itfclf, 
and  determine  its  own  motions  and  actions,  it 
doubtleis  determines  them  the  fame  way,  even  by 
antecedent  volitions.  The  Will  determines  which 
way  the  hands  and  feet  fliall  move,  by  an  a& 
of  volition  or  choice :  and  there  is  no  other  way 
of  the  Will's  determining,  dire&ing  or  command 
ing  any  thing  at  all.  Whatfoever  the  Will  coiu-r 
mands,  it  commands  by  an  act  of  the  Will.  And 
if  it  has  itfelf  under  its  command,  and  determines 
itfelf  in  its  own  actions,  it  doubtkis  does  k  th.e 
fame  way  that  in  determines  other  tilings  which 
are  under  its  command.  So  that  if  the  freedom 
of  the  Will  con&fts  in  this,  that  it  has  itfelf  and 
ks  own  actions  under  its  command  aa.d  direc 
tion,  and  its  own  volitions  are  determined  by  ij> 
felf,  it  will  follow,,  -that  every  free  volition  arifes 
from  another  antecedent  volition,  .dire6lm,g  and 
commanding  that :  and  if  that  direciitig  volition 
be  alfo  free,  in  that  alfo  the  Will  is  determined  > 
that  is  to  -fay,  that  directing  volition  is  determined 
by  another  going  before  that ;  and  fo  on,  'till 
ive  come  to  the  firft  volition  in  the  whole  ieries  : 
and  if  that  firft  volition  be  free,  and  .the  Will 
ielf-determined  in  it,  then  that  is  determined  by 
another  volition  preceding  that,  \Vluc,h  15  a 

con- 


48  ¥bc  Inconjtftence  of  Part  II. 

contradi&ion  ;  becaufe  by  the  fuppofition,  it  can 
have  none  before  it,  to  direct  or  determine  it,  be 
ing  the  firft  in  the  train.  But  if  that  firft  voli* 
tion  is  not  determined  by  any  preceding  act  of  the 
the  Will,  then  that  act  is  not  determined  by  the 
Will,  and  fo  is  not  free  in  the  Armmian  notion 
of  freedom,  which  confifts  in  the  Will's  felf-de- 
termination.  And  if  that  firft  ad:  of  the  Will, 
which  determines  and  fixes  the  fubfequent  acts, 
be  not  free,  none  of  the  following  acts,  which 
are  determined  by  it,  can  be  free. — If  we  fuppofe 
there  are  five  acts  in  the  train,  the  fifth  and  laft 
determined  by  the  fourth,  and  the  fourth  by  the 
third,  the  third  by  the  fecond,  and  the  fecond  by 
the  firft ;  if  the  firft  is  not  determined  by  the 
Will,  and  fo  not  free,  then  none  of  them  are  truly 
determined  by  the  Will :  that  is,  that  each  of  them 
are  as  they  are,  and  not  otherwife,  is  not  firft 
owing  to  the  Will,  but  to  the  determination  of 
the  firft  in  the  feries,  which  is  not  dependent  on 
the  Will,  and  is  that  which  the  Will  has  no  hand 
in  the  determination  of.  And  this  being  that 
which  decides  what  the  reft  mall  be,  and  deter- 
mines  their  exiftence;  therefore  the  firft  deter 
mination  of  their  exiftence  is  not  from  the  Will. 
The  cafe  is  juft  the  fame,  if  inftead  of  a  chain 
of  five  acts  of  the  Will,  we  Ihould  fuppofe  a  fuc- 
cefiion  of  ten,  or  an  hundred,  or  ten  thoufand. 
If  the  firft  act  be  not  free,  being  determined  by 
fomething  out  of  the  Will,  and  this  determines 
the  next  to  be  agreable  to  itfelf,  and  that  the 
next,  and  fo  on  ;'  they  are  none  of  them  free,  but 
all  originally  depend  on,  and  are  determined  by 
fome  caufe  out  of  the  Will :  and  fo  all  freedom 
in  the  cafe  is  excluded,  and  no  act  of  the  Will 
can  be  free,  according  to  this  notion  of  freedom. 
If  we  jfhould  fuppofe  a  long  chain  of  ten  thou 
fand  links,  fo  connected,  that  if  the  firft  link 

moves, 


Sect.  I.  Sdf-det&miabig  Power.  49 

moves,  it  will  move  the  next,  and  that  the  next ; 
and  fo  the  whole  chain  muft  be  determined  to 
motion,  and  in  the  direftion  of  its  motion,  by 
the  motion  of  the  firfl  link ;  and  that  is  moved 
by  fomething  elfe  :  in  this  cafe,  though  all  the 
links,  but  one,  are  moved  by  other  parts  of  the 
fame  chain  •,  yet  it  appears  that  the  motion  of  no 
one,  nor  the  direction  of  its  motion,  is  from  any 
felf-  moving  or  felf- determining  Power  in  the 
chain,  any  more  than  if  every  link  were  imme 
diately  moved  by  fomething  that  did  not  belong 
to  the  chain. — If  the  will  be  not  free  in  the  firft 
act,  which  caufcs  the  next,  then  neither  is  it  free 
in  the  next,  which  is  caufed  by  that  firft  act : 
for  though  indeed  the  will  caufed  it,  yet  it  did 
not  caufe  it  freely  ;  becaufe  the  preceding  act,  by 
which  it  was  caufed,  was  not  free.  And  again, 
if  the  will  be  not  free  in  the  fecond  act,  fo  neither 
can  it  be  in  the  third,  which  is  caufed  by  that ; 
becaufe  in  like  manner,  that  third  was  deter 
mined  by  an  a<ft  of  the  will  that  was  not  free. 
And  fo  we  may  go  on  to  the  next  act,  and  from 
that  to  the  next ;  and  how  long  foever  the  fuc- 
cefTion  of  acts  is,  it  is  all  one  -,  if  the  firfl  on  which 
the  wrhole  chain  depends,  and  which  determines 
all  the  reft,  be  not  a  free  act,  the  will  is  not  free 
in  caufing  or  determining  any  one  of  thofe  acts  j 
becaufe  the  act  by  which  it  determines  them  all, 
is  not  a  free  act  •,  and  therefore  the  will  is  no  more 
free  in  determining  them,  than  if  it  did  not  caufc 
them  at  all. — Thus,  this  Armiman  notion  of  Li 
berty  of  the  Will,  confifting  in  the  Will's  Self- 
determination,  is  repugnant  to  itfelf,  and  fhuts  itfeff 
wholly  out  of  the  world. 


SECTION 


SECTION     II. 

Several  fuppofed  Way3  of  evading  the  foregoing 
Reafoning,  confidered. 

IF  to  evade  the  force  of  what  has  been  obferved, 
it  fhould  be  faid,  that  when  the  Arminians 
fpeak  of  the  will's  determining  its  own  acts,  they 
do  not  mean  that  the  will  determines  its  ads  by 
any  preceding  act,  or  that  one  act  of  the  will 
determines  another  •,  but  only  that  the  faculty  or 
power  of  will,  or  the  foul  in  the  ufe  of  that 
power*  determines  its  own  volitions  \  and  that  it 
does  it  without  any  act  going  before  the  act  de 
termined  ;  fuch  an  evafion  would  be  full  of  the 

moft  grofs  abfurdity. 1  confefs,  it  is  an  Eva-» 

fion  of  my  own  inventing ;  and  I  do  not  know 
but  I  fhould  wrong  the  Arminians^  in  fuppofing 
that  any  of  them  would  make  ufe  of  it.  But  it 
being  as  good  a  one  as  I  can  invent,  I  would  ob- 
ferve  upon  it  a  few  things. 

Firfti  If  the  faculty  or  power  of  the  will  de 
termines  an  act  of  volition,  or  the  foul  in  the 
ufe  or  exercife  of  that  power,  determines  it,  that 
is  the  fame  thing  as  for  the  foul  to  determine 
volition  by  an  aft  of  will.  For  an  exercife  of  the 
power  of  will,  and  an  aft  of  that  power,  are  the 
fame  thing.  Therefore  to  fay,  that  the  power  of 
will,  or  the  foul  in  the  ufe  or  exercife  of  that 
power,  determines  volition,  without  an  aR  of  will 
preceding  the  volition  determined,  is  a  contra- 
diction. 

Secondly,  If  a  power  of  will  determines  the  act 
of  the  will,  then  a  power  of  chuling  determines 

it. 


Sect.  II.      Suppofed  Evafions  confiderect.  gi 

it.  For,  as  was  before  obferved,  in  every  act  of 
will,  there  is  choice,  and  a  power  of  willing  is 
a  power  of  chufing.  But  if  a  power  of  chufing 
determines  the  act  of  volition,  it  determines  it  by 
chufing  it.  For  it  is  mod  abfurd  to  fay,  that  a 
power  of  chufing  determines  one  thing  rather 
than  another,  without  chufing  any  thing.  But 
if  a  power  of  chufing  determines  volition  by  chu 
fing  it,  then  here  is  the  act  of  volition  deter 
mined  by  an  antecedent  choice,  chufing  that  vo« 
lition. 

Thirdly i  To  fay,  the  faculty,  or  the  foul,  de 
termines  its  own  volition,  but  not  by  any  act,  is 
a  contradiction.  Becaufe  for  the  foul  to  direft, 
decide,  or  determine  any  thing,  is  to  act ;  and  this 
is  fuppofed  ;  for  the  foul  is  here  fpoken  of  as  be 
ing  a  caufe  in  this  affair,  bringing  fomething  to 
pafs,  or  doing  fomething  ;  or,  which  is  the  fame 
thing,  exerting  itfelf  in  order  to  an  effect,  which 
effect  is  the  determination  of  volition,  or  the  par 
ticular  kind  and  manner  of  an  act  of  will.  But 
certainly,  this  exertion  or  action  is  not  the  fame 
with  the  effect,  in  order  to  the  production  of 
which  it  is  exerted  ;  but  muft  be  fomething  prior 
to  it. 

Again,  The  advocates  for  this  notion  of  the 
freedom  of  the  will,  fpeak  of  a  certain  fovereignty 
in  the  will,  whereby  it  has  power  to  determine  its 
own  volitions.  And  therefore  the  determination 
of  volition  muft  itfelf  be  an  act  of  the  will ;  for 
otherwife  it  can  be  no  exercife  of  that  fuppofed 
power  and  fovereignty. 

Again  >  If  the  will  determines  itfelf,  then  either 

the  will  is  aftive  in  determining  its  volitions,  of 

it  is  not.     If  it  be  active  in  it,  then,  the  determi- 

E  a  nation 


5^  Suppofed  Evafions  considered.       Part  II. 

nation  is  an  aft  of  the  will ;  and  ib  there  is  one 
act  of  the  will  determining  another.  But  if  the 
will  is  not  aftive  in  the  determination,  then  how 
does  it  exerafe  any, liberty  in  it?  Thefe  gentle 
men  fuppofe  that  the  thing  wherein  the  will  ex- 
ercifes  liberty,  is  in  its  determining  its  own  acts. 
But  how  can  this  be,  if  it  be  not  aftive  in  deter 
mining  ?  Certainly  the  will,  or  the  foul,  cannot 
exercife  any  liberty  in  that  wherein  it  doth  not  aft,  or 
.wherein  it  doth  not  exercife  itfelf.  So  that  if  either 
part  of  this  dilemma  be  taken,  this  fcheme  of  li 
berty,  confiding  in  felf-determining  power,  is  over 
thrown.  If  there  be  an  act  of  the  will  in  deter 
mining  all  its  own  free  acts,  then  one  free  act 
of  the  will  is  determined  by  another  ;  and  fo  we 
have  the  abfurdity  of  every  free  act,  even  the  very 
fird,  determined  by  a  foregoing  free  act.  But  if 
there  be  no  act  or  exercife  of  the  will  in  deter 
mining  its  own  acts,  then  no  liberty  is  exercifed 
in  determining  them.  From  whence  it  follows, 
that  no  liberty  coniids  in  the  will's  power  to 
determine  its  own  acts :  or,  which  is  the  fame 
thing,  that  there  is  no  fuch  thing  as  liberty 
confiding  in  a  felf  -  determining  power  of  the 
will. 

If  it  mould  be  faid,  That  although  it  be  true, 
if  the  foul  determines  its  own  volitions,  it  mud 
be  active  in  fo  doing,  and  the  determination  itfelf 
mud  be  an  act: ;  yet  there  is  no  need  of  fuppofing 
this  act  to  be  prior  to  the  volition  determined ; 
but  the  will  or  foul  determines  the  act  of  che 
will  in  'willing  •,  it  determines  its  own  volition,  in 
the  very  act  of  volition  ;  it  directs  and  limits  the 
act  of  the  will,  caufing  it  to  be  fo  and  not  other- 
wife,  in  exerting  the  act,  without  any  preceding 
act  to  exert  that.  If  any  ihould  fay  after  this 
maflner,  they  mud  mean  one  of  thefe  three  things : 

Either, 


Sect.  II.      Suppofed  Evafions  confident.  53 

Either,  (i.)  That  the  determining  aft,  though  it 
be  before  the  aft  determined  in  the  order  of  na 
ture,  yet  is  not  before  it  in  order  of  time.  Or, 
(2.)  That  the  determining  aft  is  not  before  the  aft 
determined,  either  in  the  order  of  time  or  nature, 
nor  is  truly  diftinft  from  it ;  but  that  the  foul's 
determining  the  aft  of  volition  is  the  fame  thing 
with  its  exerting  the  aft  of  volition:  the  mind's 
exerting  fuch  a  particular  aft,  is  its  caufing  and 
determining  the  aft.  Or,  (3.)  That  volition  has 
no  caufe,  and  is  no  effect  ;  but  comes  into  ex- 
iilence,  with  fuch  a  particular  determination,  with 
out  any  ground  or  reafon  of  its  exiftence  and  deter 
mination. — I  ihall  confider  thefe  diftinftly. 

(i.)  If  all  that  is  meant,  be,  that  the  deter 
mining  aft  is  not  before  the  act  determined  in 
order  of  time,  it  will  not  help  the  cafe  at  all, 
though  it  mould  be  allowed.  If  it  be  before  the 
determined  aft  in  the  order  of  nature,  being  the 
caufe  or  ground  of  its  exiftence,  this  as  much 
proves  it  to  be  diftinft  from  it,  and  independent 
on  it,  as  if  it  were  before  in  the  order  of  time. 
As  the  caufe  of  the  particular  motion  of  a  natural 
body  in  a  certain  direction,  may  have  no  diftance 
as  to  time,  yet  cannot  be  the  fame  with  the  mo 
tion  effected  by  it,  but  muft  be  as  diftinft  from 
it,  as  any  other  caufe,  that  is  before  its  effect  in 
the  order  of  time :  as  the  architect  is  diftinft 
from  the  houfe  which  he  builds,  or  the  father 
diftinft  from  the  fon  which  he  begets.  And  if 
the  act  of  the  will  determining  be  diftinft  from 
the  aft  determined,  and  before  it  in  the  order  of 
nature,  then  we  can  go  back  from  one,  to  another, 
'till  we  come  to  the  firft  in  the  feries,  which  has 
no  aft  of  tfre  will  before  it  in  the  order  of  na- 
E  3  ture, 


£4  Suppofed  Evafions  conferred.        Part  II. 

ture,  determining  it  •,  and  confequently  is  an  act 
not  determined  by  the  will,  and  fo  not  a  free  act, 
in  this  notion  of  freedom.  And  this  being  the 
act  which  determines  all  the  reft,  none  of  them 
are  free  acts.  As  when  there  is  a  chain  of  many 
Jink$,  the  firft  of  which  only  is  taken  hold  of  and 
drawn  by  hand  •,  all  the  reft  may  follow  and  be 
moved  at  the  fame  inftant,  without  any  diftance 
of  time  •,  but  yet  the  motion  of  one  link  is  before 
that  of  another  in  the  order  of  nature  ;  the  laft  is 
moved  by  the  next,  and  that  by  the  next,  and  fo 
till  we  come  to  the  firft  ;  which  not  being  moved 
by  any  other,  but  by  fomething  diftinct  from  the 
whole  chain,  this  as  much  proves  that  no  part  is 
moved  by  any  ielf-moving  power  in  the  chain,  as 
if  the  motion  of  one  link  followed  that  of  another 
in  the  order  of  time* 

(2.)  If  any  fhould  fay,  that  the  determining 
act  is  not  before  the  determined  act,  either  in 
the  order  of  time,  or  of  nature,  nor  is  diftinct 
from  it ;  but  that  the  exertion  of  the  acl:  is  the 
determination  of  the  acl:  ;  that  for  the  foul  to 
exert  a  particular  volition,  is  for  it  to  caufe  and 
determine  that  ad:  of  volition  :  I  would  on  this 
obferve,  that  the  thing  in  qucftion  feems  to  be 
forgotten,  or  kept  out  of  fight,  in  a  darknefs 
and  unintelligiblenefs  of  fpeech  ^  unlefs  fuch  an 
objeclor  would  mean  to  contradict  himfelf.— 
The  very  act  of  volition  itfelf  is  doubtlefs  a  de 
termination  of  mind ;  f.  e.  it  is  the  mind's  draw 
ing  up  a  conclufion,  or  coming  to  a  choice  be 
tween  two  things,  or  more,  propoted  to  it.  But 
determining  among  external  objeffs  of  choice,  is 
not  the  fame  with  determining  the  aft  of  choice 
itfelf,  among  various  poflible  acts  of  choice. — 
The  queftion  is,  What  influences,  directs,  or  de 
termines  the  mind  or  will  to  come  to  fuch  a 

con- 


Sect,  II.       Suppofed  Evafions  confidered..  55 

conclufion  or  choice  as  it  does  ?  Or  what  is  th^ 
caufe,  ground  or  reafon,  why  it  concludes  thus, 
and  not  otherwife  ?  Now  it  muil  be  anfwcred,  ac 
cording  to  the  Armiman  notion  of  freedom,  that 
the  will  influences,  orders  and  determines  itfelf 
thus  to  a6t.  And  if  it  does,  I  fay,  it  mufl  be 
by  fome  antecedent  aft.  To  fay,  it  is  caufed,  in 
fluenced  and  determined  by  fomcthing,  and  yet 
not  determined  by  any  thing  antecedent,  either  in 
order  of  time  or  nature,  is  a  contradiction.  For 
that  is  what  is  meant  by  a  thing's  being  prior  in 
the  order  of  nature,  that  it  is  fome  way  the  canfe 
or  reafon  of  the  thing,  with  refpect  to  which  it  is 
fa;d  to  be  prior. 

If  the  particular  act  or  exertion  of  will,  which 
Comes  into  exiftence,  be  any  thing  properly  de 
termined  at  all,  then  it  has  fome  caufe  of  its  ex^ 
ifting,  and  of  its  exifting  in  fuch  a  particular  de^ 
terminate  manner,  and  not  another  ;  fome  caufe, 
whofe  influence  decides  the  matter :  which  caufe  is 
diittnct  from  the  effect,  and  prior  to  it.  But  to 
fay,  that  the  will  or  mind  prders,  influences  and 
determines  itfelf  to  exert  fuch  an  aft  as  it  does, 
by  the  very  exertion  itfelf,  is  to  make  the  exertion 
both  caufe  and  effect ;  or  the  exerting  fuch  an  aft, 
to  be  a  caufe  of  the  exertion  of  fuch  an  act.  For 
the  queftion  is,  What  is  the  caufe  and  reafon,  of 
the  foul's  exerting  fuch  an  act  ?  To  which  the  an* 
fwer  is,  The  foul  everts  fuch  an  act,  and  that  is 
the  caufe  of  it.  And  fo,  by  this,  the  exertioit 
muft  be  prior  in  the  orcler  of  nature  to  itfelf,  and 
diftinct  from  itfelf. 

(3.)  If  the  meaning  be,  that  the  foul's  exer* 
tion  of  fuch  a  particular  act  of  will,  is  a  thing 
that  comes  to  pafs  of  itfelf,  without  any  caufe ; 
and  that  there  is  abfolutely  no  ground  or  reafon 

£4  .r 


t;6  Suppofed  Evafions  considered.         Part  II. 

of  the  foul's   being;  determined   to  exert  fuch  a 

CD 

volition,  and  make  fuch  a  choice,  rather  than 
another,  I  fay,  if  this  be  the  meaning  of  Armi- 
wans,  when  they  contend  fo  earneftly  for  the  will's 
determining  its  own  acts,  and  for  liberty  of  wilt 
confiding  in  felf-determining  power;  they  do  no 
thing  but  confound  themfelves  and  others  with 
words  without  a  meaning.  In  the  queftion,  mat- 
determines  the  will  ?  and  in  their  aniwer,  that  iher 
will  determines  itfelf,  and  in  all  the  difpute  about 
it,  it  feerns  to  be  taken  for  granted,  that  fome- 
thing  determines  the  will  •,  and  the  controverfy 
on  this  head  is  not,  whether  any  thing  at  all  de 
termines  it,  or  whether  its  determination  has  any 
caufe  or  foundation  at  all :  but  where  the  foun 
dation  of  it  is,  whether  in  the  will  itfelf,  or  fome- 
where  elfe.  But  if  the  thing  intended  be  what 
is  above-mentioned,  then  all  comes  to  this,  that 
nothing  at  all  determines  the  will  •,  volition  hav 
ing  absolutely  no  caufe  or  foundation  of  its  ex- 
iftence,  either  within,  or  without.  There  is  a 
great  noife  made  about  felf-determining  power, 
as  the  fource  of  all  free  acts  of  the  will  :  but 
when  the  matter  comes  to  be  explained,  the  mean 
ing  is,  that  no  power  at  all  is  the  fource  of  thefe 
acts,  neither  felf-determining  power,  nor  any  other, 
but  they  arile  from  nothing ;  no  caufe,  no  power, 
no  influence,  being  at  all  concerned  in  the  matter. 

However,  this  very  thing,  -even  that  the  free 
acts  of  the  will  are  events  which  come  to  pals 
.without  a  caufe,  is  certainly  implied  in  the  /fr- 
minian  notion  of  liberty  of  will ;  though  it  be 
very  inconfiflent  with  many  other  things  in  their 
fchcme',  and  repugnant  to  fome  things  implied 
in  their  notion  of  liberty.  Their  opinion  im 
plies,  that  the  particular  determination  of  voli 
tion 


Sea.  III.      No  Event  without  a  Caufe.  57 

tion  is  without  any  caufe  -,  becaufe  they  hold  the 
free  acts  of  the  will  to  be  contingent  events ;  and 
contingence  is  effential  to  freedom  in  their  no^ 
tion  of  it.  But  certainly,  thole  things  which  have 
a  prior  ground  and  reafon  of  their  particular 
exiftence,  a  caufe  which  antecedently  determines 
them  to  be,  and  determines  them  to  be  juft  as 
they  are,  do  not  happen  contingently.  If  fome- 
thing  foregoing,  by  a  caufal  influence  and  con 
nection,  determines  and  fixes  precifely  their  com 
ing  to  pals,  and  the  manner  of  it,  then  it  does  not 
remain  a  contingent  thing  whether  they  mall  come 
to  pafs  or  no. 

And  becaufe  it  is  a  queftion,  in  many  refpecls, 
very  important  in  this  controverfy  about  the  free 
dom  of  will,  whether  the  free  acts  of  the  will  are 
events  which  come  to  pajs  without  a  cauje?  I  mail 
be  particular  in  examining  this  point  in  the  two 
following  lections. 


SECTION     III. 

Whether  any  Event  whatfoever,  and  Volition  In 
particular^  can  come  to  pafs  without  a  Caufe  of 
its  exiftence. 

BEFORE  I  enter  on  any  argument  on  this 
fubject,  I  would  explain  how  I  would  be 
imderflood,  when  I  ufe  the  word  Caufe  in  this 
difcourfe  :  fince,  for  want  of  a  better  word,  I 
ihall  have  occafion  to  ufe  it  in  a  fenie  which  is 
itiore  extenfive,  than  that  in  which  it  is  fometimes 
ufed.  The  word  is  often  ufed  in  fo  retrained  a 
fenfe  as  to  fignify  only  that  which  has  a  pofitive 
efficiency  or  influence  to  produce  a 'thing,  or  bring  it 
to  pals.  But  there  are  many  things  which  have 

no 


5  8  No  Event  without  a  Caufe.          Part  II, 

no  fuch  poiitive  productive  influence  j  which  yet 
are  Caufes  in  that  refpect,  that  they  have  truly 
the  nature  of  a  ground  or  reafon  why  fbme 
things  are,  rather  than  others  •,  or  why  they  are 
as  they  are,  rather  than  otherwife.  Thus  the 
abfence  of  the  fun  in  the  night,  is  not  the  Caufe 
of  the  falling  of  the  dew  at  that  time,  in  the 
fame  manner  as  its  beams  are  the  Caufe  of  the 
afccnding  of  the  vapours  in  the  day-time  ;  and 
its  withdrawment  in  the  winter,  is  not  in  the 
fame  manner  the  Caufe  of  the  freezing  of  the 
waters,  as  its  approach  in  the  fpring  is  the 
caufe  of  their  thawing.  But  yet  the  withdraw 
ment  or  abfence  of  the  fun  is  an  antecedent, 
v/ith  which  thefe  effects  in  the  night  and  winter 
are  connected,  and  on  which  they  depend-,  and 
is  one  thing  that  belongs  to  the  ground  and 
reafon  why  they  come  to  pafs  at  that  time,  ra 
ther  than  at  other  times ;  though  the  abfence  of 
the  fun  is  nothing  poiitive,  nor  has  any  pofitive 
influence. 

It  may  b$  further  obferved,  that  when  I  fpeak 
of  connexion  of  Caufes  and  Effeffs^  I  have  refpe£t 
to  moral  Caufes,  as  well  as  thofe  that  are  called 
natural  in  diftin&ion  from  them.  Moral  Caufes 
may  be  Caufes  in,  as  proper  a  fenfe,  as  any  Caufes 
whatsoever ;  may  have  as  real  an  influence,  and 
may  as  truly  be  the  ground  and  reafon  of  an 
Event's  coming  to  pafs. 

Therefore  I  fometimes  ufe  the  word  Caufe,  in 
this  enquiry,  to  iignify  any  antecedent,  .either  na 
tural  or  moral,  pofitive  or  negative,  on  which  an 
Event,  either  a  thing,  or  the  manner  and  cir- 
cumllance  of  a  thing,  fo  depends,  that  it  is  the 
ground  and  reafon,  either  in  whole,  or  in  part, 
why  it  is,  rather  than  not ;  or  why  it  is  as  it  is, 

rather 


Sect.  III.         No  Event  without  a  Caufc.  59 

rather  than  otherwife ;  or,  in  other  words,  any 
antecedent  with  which  a  confequent  Event  is  io 
connected,  that  it  truly  belongs  to  the  reaibn  why 
the  proportion  which  affirms  that  Event,  is  true ; 
.whether  it  has  any  pofuive  influence,  or  not.  And 
in  an  agreablenefs  to  this,  I  fometimes  ufe  the 
word  effect  for  the  confequence  of  another  thing, 
\vhich  is  perhaps  rather  an  occafion  than  a  Caufe, 
moil  properly  fpeaking. 

I  am  the  more  careful  thus  to  explain  my  mean 
ing,  that  I  may  cut  off  occafion,  from  any  that 
might  feek  occafion  to  cavil  and  object  againfl 
fome  things  which  I  may  fay  concerning  the  de 
pendence  of  all  things  which  come  to  pafs,  on 
ibme  Caufe,  and  their  connection  with  their  Caufe. 

Having  thus  explained  what  I  mean  by  Caufe* 
1  afiert,  that  nothing  ever  comes  to  pafs  without 
a  Caufe.  What  is  felf-exiftent  mufl  be  from 
eternity,  and  mufl  be  unchangeable :  but  as  to 
all  things  that  begin  to  loc^  they  are  not  felf-ex 
iftent,  and  therefore  mull  have  fome  foundation 

of  their  exiflence  without  themfelves.- That 

\vhatfoever  begins  to  be,  which  before  was  not, 
mufl  have  a  Caufe  why  it  then  begins  to  exift, 
feems  to  be  the  firft  didlate  of  the  common  and 
natural  fenfe  which  God  hath  implanted  in  the 
minds  of  all  mankind,  and  the  main  foundation 
of  all  our  rcafonings  about  the  exiflence  of  things, 
pad,  prefent,  or  to  come. 

And  this  dictate  of  common  fenfe  equally  re- 
fpects  fubftances  and  modes,  or  things  and  the 
manner  and  circumftances  of  things.  Thus, 
if  we  fee  a  body  which  has  hitherto  been  at  reft, 
ilart  out  of  a  ilate  of  reft,  and  begin  to  move, 
we  do  as  naturally  and  necefiarily  fuppofe  there  is 

fome 


60  No  Event  without  a  Caufe.         Part  II. 

fome  Caufe  or  reafon  of  this  new  mode  of  exift- 
ence,  as  of  the  exigence  of  a  body  itfelf  which  had 
hitherto  not  exifted.  And  fo  if  a  body,  which 
had  hitherto  moved  in  a  certain  direction,  fhould 
fuddenly  change  the  direction  of  its  motion ;  or 
if  it  fhould  put  off  its  old  figure,  and  take  a  new 
one^  or  change  its  colour  :  the  beginning  of  thefe 
new  modes  is  a  new  Event,  and  the  mind  of  man 
kind  necefTarily  fuppofes  that  there  is  fame  Caufe 
or  reafon  of  them. 

If  this  grand  principle  of  common  fenfe  be 
taken  away,  all  arguing  from  effects  to  Caufes 
ceafeth,  and  fo  all  knowledge  of  any  exigence, 
befides  what  we  have  by  the  moft  direct  and  im 
mediate  intuition.  Particularly  all  our  proof  of 
the  being  of  God  ceafes :  we  argue  His  being 
from  our  own  'being,  and  the  being  of  other- 
things,  which  we  are  fenfible  once  were  not,  but 
have  begun  to  be-,  and  from  the  being  of  the 
"world,  with  all  its  conflituent  parts,  and  the 
manner  of  their  exigence  -,  all  which  we  fee  plain 
ly  are  not  neceffary  in  their  own  nature,  and  fo 
rot  felf-cxiftent,  and  therefore  muft  have  a  Caufe. 
But  if  things,  not  in  themfelves  neceflary,  may 
begin  to  be  withont  a  Caufe,  all  this  arguing  is 
vain. 

Indeed,  I  will  not  affirm,  that  there  is  in  the 
nature  of  things  no  foundation  for  the  know 
ledge  of  the  Being  of  God  without  any  evidence 
of  It  from  His  works.  I  do  fuppofe  there  is  a 
great  abfurdity,  in  the  nature  of  things  funply 
considered,  in  fuppofing  that  there  fhould  be  no 
God,  or  in  denying  Being  in  general,  and  fup- 
pofing  an  eternal,  abfolute,  univerfal  nothing : 
and  therefore  that  here  would  be  foundation  of 
intuitive  evidence  that  it  cannot  be,  and  that 

eternal 


Ssct.  III.         No  Event  without  a  Cauft.  61 

eternal  infinite  moft  perfect  Being  miiit  be ;  if  we 
had  ftrength  and  comprehenfion  of  mind  fuffi- 
cient,  to  have  a  clear  idea  of  general  and  univer- 
fal  Being,  or,  which  is  the  fame  thing,  of  the 
infinite,  eternal,  moft  perfect  Divine  Nature  and 
EfTence.  But  then  we  ihould  not  properly  come 
to  the  knowledge  of  the  Being  of  God  by  arguing ; 
but  our  evidence  would  be  intuitive :  we  fhouici 
fee  it,  as  we  fee  other  things  that  are  neceifary  in 
therrifelves,  the  contraries  of  which  are  in  their 
o\vn  nature  abfurd  and  contradictory ;  as  we  fee 
that  twice  two  is  four ;  and  as  we  fee  that  a  circle 
has  no  angles.  If  we  had  as  clear  an  idea  of 
univerfal  infinite  entity,  as  we  have  of  thefe  other 
things,  I  fuppofe  we  ihould  molt  intuitively  fee 
the  abfurdity  of  fuppofmg  fuch  Being  not  to  be ; 
ihould  immediately  fee  there  is  no  room  for  the 
queition,  whether  it  is  poflible  that  Being,  in  the 
mod  general  abflraclcd  notion  of  it,  ihould  not 
be.  But  we  have  not  that  fTrength  and  extent 
of  mind,  to  know  this  certainly  in  this  intuitive 
independent  manner :  but  the  way  that  mankind 
come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  Being  of  God,  is 
that  which  the  apoflle  fpcaks  of,  Rom.  L  20.. 
The  inviltble  things  of  Him,  from  the  creation  of  the 
world,  are  clearly  feen ;  being  under  flood  by  the  things. 
that  are  made  -9  even  bis  eternal  Power  and  Godhead. 
We  firft  afcend,  and  prove  a  pofteriori*  or  from 
effects,  that  there  mult  be  an  eternal  Caufe ;  and 
then  fecondly,  prove  by  argumentation,  not  in 
tuition,  that  this  Being  mull  be  neceifarily  exiftent; 
and  then  thirdly,  from  the  proved  neccility  of  his 
exiftence,  we  may  defend,  and  prove  many  of  his. 
perfections  a  priori. 

But  if  once  this  grand  principle  of  common 
fenie  be  given  up,  that  'what-  is  not  neceffary  in  it- 
Jelf9  mitft  bwe  a  Caufe  -9  and  we  bcgia  to  maintain, 

that 


6z  No  Event  without  a  Caufe.          Part  II, 

that  things  may  come  into  exiftence,  and  begin 
to  be,  which  heretofore  have  not  been,  of  them- 
felves,  without  any  caufe ;  all  our  means  of  af- 
cending  in  our  arguing  from  the  creature  to  the 
Creator,  and  all  our  evidence  of  the  Being  of  God, 
is  cut  off  at  one  blow.  In  this  cafe,  we  cannot 
prove  that  there  is  a  God,  either  from  the  Being 
of  the  world,  and  the  creatures  in  it,  or  from 
the  manner  of  their  being,  their  order,  beauty 
and  life.  For  if  things  may  eome  into  exigence 
without  any  Caufe  at  all,  then  they  doubtlefs  may 
without  any  Caufe  anfwerable  to  the  effect.  Our 
minds  do  alike  naturally  fuppofe  and  determine 
both  thefe  things ;  namely,  that  what  begins  to 
be  has  a  Caufe,  and  alfo  that  it  has  a  Caufe  pro 
portionable  and  agreable  to  the  effect.  The  fame 
principle  which  leads  us  to  determine,  that  there 
cannot  be  any  thing  coming  to  pafs  without  a 
Caufe,  leads  us  to  determine  that  there  cannot  be 
more  in  the  effect  than  in  the  Caufe. 

Yea,  if  once  it  fliould  be  allowed,  that  things 
may  come  to  pafs  without  a  Caufe,  we  mould  not 
only  have  no  proof  of  the  Being  of  God,  but  we 
fhould  be  without  evidence  of  the  exiftence  of 
any  thing  whatfoever,  but  our  own  immediately 
prefect  ideas  and  confcioufnefs.  For  we  have  no 
way  to  prove  any  thing  elfe,  but  by  arguing 
from  effects  to  Caufes :  from  the  ideas  now  im 
mediately  in  vie\v,  we  argue  other  things  not 
immediately  in  view :  from  fenfations  now  ex 
cited  in  us,  we  infer  the  exiftence  of  things  with 
out  us,  as  the  Caufes  of  thefe  fenfations :  and 
frcm  the  exiftence  of  thefe  things,  we  argue 
other  things,  which  they  depend  on,  as  effects 
on  Caufes.  We  infer  the  paft  exiftence  of  our- 
felves,  or  any  thing  elfe,  by  memory  ;  only  as 
v/e  argue,  that  the  ideas,  which  are  now  m  our 

minds, 


Sect.  III.        No  Event  without  a  Caufe.  6$ 

minds,  are  the  confequences  of  pail  ideas  and 
fenfations.  We  immediately  perceive  nothing 
elfe  but  the  ideas  which  are  this  moment  extant 
in  our  minds.  We  perceive  or  know  other  things 
only  by  means  of  thefe,  as  neceffarily  connected 
with  others,  and  dependent  on  them.  But  if 
things  may  be  without  Caufes,  all  this  neceirary 
connection  and  dependence  is  diflblved,  and  ib 
all  means  of  our  knowledge  is  gone.  If  there  be 
no  abfurdity  or  difficulty  in  fuppofing  one  thing 
to  ftart  out  of  non-exiftence,  into  being,  of  itfelf 
without  a  Caufe ;  then  there  is  no  abfurdity  or 
difficulty  in  fuppofing  the  fame  of  millions  of  mil 
lions.  For  nothing,  or  no  difficulty  multiplied, 
itill  is  nothing,  or  no  difficulty  :  nothing  multi 
plied  by  nothing,  don't  increafe  the  fum. 

And  indeed,  according  to  the  hypothecs  I  am 
oppoiing,  of  the  acts  of  the  will  coming  to  pals 
without  a  Caufe,  it  is  the  cafe  in  fact,  that  mil 
lions  of  millions  of  Events  are  continually  com 
ing  into  exigence  contingently^  without  any  Caufe 
or  reafon  why  they  do  fo,  all  over  the  world,  every 
day  and  hour,  through  all  ages.  So  it  is  in  a 
conftant  fucceflion,  in  every  moral  agent.  This 
contingency,  this  efficient  nothing,  this  effectual 
No-Caufe,  is  always  ready  at  hand,  to  produce 
this  fort  of  effects,  as  long  as  the  agent  exiils,  and 
as  often  as  he  has  occafion. 

If  it  were  fo,  that  things  only  of  one  kind, 
viz.  acts  of  the  will,  feemed  to  come  to  pafs  of 
themfelves  ;  but  thofe  of  this  fort  in  general 
came  into  being  thus ;  and  it  were  an  event  that 
was  continual,  and  that  happened  in  a  courfe, 
wherever  were  capable  fubjects  of  fuch  events ; 
this  very  tiling  would  demonftrate  that  there  was 
ibme  Caufe  of  them,  which  made  fuch  a  difference 

be- 


64  AT0  Event  without  a  Caufe.         Part  II. 

between  this  Event  and  others,  and  that  they  did 
not  really  happen  contingently.  For  contingence 
is  blind,  and  does  not  pick  and  chule  for  a  par 
ticular  fort  of  Events.  Nothing  has  no  choice. 
This  No-Caufe,  which  caufes  no  exiftence,  cannot 
caufe  the  exigence  which  comes  to  pafs,  to  be  of 
one  particular  fort  only,  diftinguifhed  from  all 
others.  Thus,  that  only  one  fort  of  matter  drops 
out  of  the  heavens,  even  water,  and  that  this 
comes  fo  often,  fo  conftantly  and  plentifully,  all 
over  the  world,  in  all  ages,  Ihows  that  there  is 
fome  Caufe  or  Reafon  of  the  falling  of  water  out 
of  the  heavens ;  and  that  fomething  befides  meer 
contingence  has  a  hand  in  the  matter. 

If  we  (honld  fuppofe  Non-entity  to  be  about  to 
bring  forth ;  and  things  were  coming  into  exig 
ence,  without  any  Caui-e  or  Antecedent,  on  which 
the  exiftence,  or  kind,  or  manner  of  exigence 
depends  ;  or  which  could  at  all  determine  whether 
the  things  mould  be  ;  ilones,  or  flars,  or  beafts, 
or  angels,  or  human  bodies,  or  fouls,  or  only  fome 
new  motion  or  figure  in  natural  bodies,  or  fome 
new  fenfations  in  animals,  or  new  ideas  in  the  hu 
man  underftanding,  or  new  volitions  in  the  will ; 
or  any  thing  elfe  of  all  the  infinite  number  of  poi- 
fibles  3  then  certainly  it  would  not  be  expected, 
although  many  millions  of  millions  of  things 
arc  coming  into  exiftence  in  this  manner,  all  over 
the  face  of  the  earth,  that  they  ihould  all  be  only 
of  one  particular  kind,  and  that  it  Ihould  be 
thus  in  all  ages,  and  that  this  ibrt  of  exiftences 
Ihould  never  fail  to  come  to  pafs  where  there  is 
room  for  them,  or  a  fubjecl:  capable  of  them,  and 
that  conilantly,  whenever  there  is  occafion  for 
them. 

If 


Sect.  III.     No  Event  without  a  Caufe.  65 

If  any  fhould  imagine,  there  is  fomething  in  the 
fort  of  Event  that  renders  it  poffible  for  it  to 
come  into  exiftence  without  a  Caufe,  and  fhould 
fay,  that  the  free  acts  of  the  will  are  exiftences  of 
an  exceeding  different  nature  from  other  things; 
by  reafon  of  which  they  may  come  into  exiftence 
without  any  previous  ground  or  reafon  of  it,  tho* 
other  things  cannot}  if  they  make  this  objection, 
in  good  earneft,  it  would  be  an  evidence  of  their 
ftrangely  forgetting  themfelves :  for  they  would 
be  giving  an  account  of  fome  ground  of  the  ex 
iftence  of  a  thing,  when  at  the  fame  time  they 
would  maintain  there  is  no  ground  of  its  ex 
iftence.  Therefore  I  would  obferve,  that  the 
particular  nature  of  exiftence,  be  it  never  fo 
diverfe  from  others,  can  lay  no  foundation  for 
that  thing's  coming  into  exiftence  without  a 
Caufe ;  becaufe  to  fuppofe  this,  would  be  to 
fuppofe  the  particular  nature  of  exiftence  to  be 
a  thing  prior  to  the  exiftence ;  and  fo  a  thing 
which  makes  v/ay  for  exiftence,  with  fuch  a  cir- 
cumftance,  namely,  without  a  caufe  or  reafon  of 
exiftence.  But  that  which  in  any  refpect  makes 
way  for  a  thing's  coming  into  being,  or  for  any 
manner  or  circumftance  of  its  firft  exiftence,  mull 
be  prior  to  the  exiftence.  The  diftinguifhed  na 
ture  of  the  effect,  which  is  fomething  belonging 
to  the  effect,  cannot  have  influence  backward^ 
to  act  before  it  is.  The  peculiar  nature  of  that 
thing  called  volition,  can  do  nothing,  can  have 
no  influence,  while  it  is  not.  And  afterwards  it 
is  too  late  for  its  influence :  for  then  the  thing 
has  made  fure  of  exiftence  already,  without  its 
help. 

So  that  it  is  indeed  as  repugnant  to  reafon,  to 

fuppofe  that  an  act  of  the  will  Ihould  come  into 

exiftence  without  a  caufe,  as  to  fnppofe  the  hu- 

F  man 


66  Volition  not  without  a  Caufe.      Part  It* 

man  foul,  or  an  angel,  or  the  globe  of  the 
earth,  or  the  whole  univejie,  fhould  come  into 
exigence  without  a  caufe.  And  if  once  we  allow^ 
that  fuch  a  fort  of  effect  as  a  Volition  may  come 
to  pafs  without  a  Caufe,  how  do  we  know  but 
that  many  other  forts  of  effects  may  do  fo  too  ? 
It  is  not  the  particular  kind  of  effecl:  that  makes 
the  abfurdity  of  fuppofing  it  has  being  without 
a  Caufe,  but  fomething  which  is  common  to  all 
things  that  ever  begin  to  be,  viz.  That  they  are 
not  felf-exiftent,  or  neceiFary  in  the  nature  of, 
things. 


SECTION 


Whether  Volition  tan  arife  without  a  Caufe -,  through 
the  Activity  of  the  Nature  of  the  Soul. 

TH  E  author  of  the  Effay  on  the  Freedom  of  the 
Will  in  God  and  the  Creatures^  in  anfwer  to 
that  objection  againft  his  doctrine  of  a  felf-deter- 
mining  power  in  the  will,  (p.  68,  69.)  fhat  no 
thing  is,  or  comes  to  pafs,  without  a  fujficient  reafon 
why  it  is,  and  why  it  is  in  this  manner  rather  than 
another,  allows  that  it  is  thus  in  corporeal  things, 
which  are,  properly  and  philofophically  /peaking,  paf- 
five  leing ;  but  denies  that  it  is  thus  in  fpirits, 
which  are  leings  of  an  active  nature,  who  have  the 
fpring  of  aftion  within  themfelves,  and  can  determine 
thanfelves.  By  which  it  is  plainly  fuppofed,  that 
fuch  an  event  as  an  act  of  the  will,  may  come  to 
pafs  in  a  fpirir,  without  a  fufficierit  reafon  why  it 
comes  to  pafs,  or  why  it  is  after  this  manner, 
rather  than  another  -,  by  reafon  of  the  activity  of 
the  nature  of  a  ipirit.— -— But  certainly  this  au* 

thor, 


Se&.  IV.     Volition  not  without  a  Caufi.  6? 

thor,  in  this  matter,  mufl  be  very  unwary  and 
inadvertent.     For, 

1.  The  objection  or  difficulty  propofed  by  this 
author,  feems  to  be  forgotten  in  his  anfwer  or 
iblution.     The  very  difficulty,  as  he  himfelf  pro- 
pofes  it,  is  this  ;  How  an  event  can  come  to  pafs 
without  a  fufficient  reafon  why  if  i$,  or  why  it  is  in 
this  manner  rather  than  another  ?  Inftead  of  folv- 
ing  this  difficulty,  or  anfwering  this  quefu'on  with 
regard  to  Volition,    as  he  propofes,  he  forgets 
himfelf,  and  anfwers  another  queilion  quite  di- 
verfe,  and  wholly  inconfiftent  with  this,  viz.  What 
is  a  fufFicient  reafon  why  it  is,  and  why  it  is  in 
this  manner  rather  than  another  ?  And  he  affigns 
the  active  being's  own  determination  as  the  Caufe, 
and  a  Caufe  fufficient  for  the  effect ;    and  leaves 
all  the  difficulty  unrefolved,  and  the  queflion  un- 
anfwered,    which  yet   returns,    even,    How  the 
foul's  own  determination,    which  he  fpeaks  of^ 
came  to  exift,  and  to  be  what  it  was  without  a 
Caufe  ?  The  activity  of  the  foul  may  enable  it  to 
be  the  Caufe  of  effects ;  but  it  does  not  at  all  en 
able  or  help  it  to  be  the  fubject  of  effects  which 
have  no  Caufe;  which  is  the  thing  this  author 
fuppofes  concerning  acts  of  the  will.     Activity  of 
nature  will  no  more  enable  a  being  to  produce 
effects,  and  determine  the  manner  of  their  exi- 
itence,  within  itfelf,  without  a  Caufe,  than  out  of 
itfelf,  in  fome  other  being.     But  if  an  active  be 
ing  fhould,  through  its  activity,  produce  and  de 
termine  an  effect  in  fome  external  object,  how 
abfurd  would  it  be  to  fay,  that  the  effect  was  pro 
duced  without  a  Caufe  ! 

2.  The  queftion  is  not  fo  much,  How  a  fpirrt 
endowed  with  activity  comes  to  act,  as  why  it 
exerts  fuch  an  act,  and  not  another ;  or  why  it 

F  2  act* 


68  Volition  not  without  a  Caufe.      Part  II. 

acts  with  fuch  a  particular  determination  ?  If  ac 
tivity  of  nature  be  the  Caufe  why  a  fpirit  (the  foul 
of  man  for  inftance)  acts,  and  does  not  lie  Hill  ; 
yet  that  alone  is  not  the  Caufe  why  its  action  is 
thus  and  thus  limited,  directed  and  determined. 
Adtive  nature  is  a  general  thing  ;  it  is  an  ability 
or  tendency  of  nature  to  action,  generally  taken  -, 
which  may  be  a  Caufe  why  the  foul  acts  as  occa- 
fion  or  reafon  is  given  ;  but  this  alone  cannot  be 
a  fufficient  Caufe  why  the  foul  exerts  fuch  a  par 
ticular  act,  at  fuch  a  time,  rather  than  others. 
In  order  to  this,  there  mud  be  fomething  befides 
a  general  tendency  to  action  ;  there  mult  alfo  be 
a  particular  tendency  to  that  individual  action.— 
If  it  fliould  be  afked,  why  the  foul  of  man  ufes 
its  activity  in  fuch  a  manner  as  it  does ;  and  it 
Ihould  be  anfwered,  that  the  foul  ufes  its  activity 
thus,  rather  than  otherwife,  becaufe  it  has  acti 
vity  ;  would  fuch  an  anfwer  fatisfy  a  rational 
man  ?  Would  it  not  rather  be  looked  upon  as  a 
very  impertinent  one  ? 

3.  An  active  being  can  bring  no  effects  to  pafs 
by  his  activity,  but  what  are  confequent  upon  his 
acting  :  he  produces  nothing  by  his  activity,  any 
other  way  than  by  the  exercife  of  his  activity, 
and  fo  nothing  but  the  fruits  of  its  exercife  : 
he  brings  nothing  to  pafs  by  a  dormant  adlivity. 
But  the  exercife  of  his  activity  is  action ;  and 
ib  his  action,  or  exercife  of  his  activity,  muft 
be  prior  to  the  effects  of  his  activity.  If  an 
active  being  produces  an  effect  in  another  being, 
about  which  his  activity  is  converfant, -the  effect 
being  the  fruit  of  his  activity,  his  activity  muft 
be  rirft  exercifed  or  exerted,  and  the  effect  of  it 
muft  follow.  So  it  muft  be,  with  equal  reafon, 
if  the  aclive  being  is  his  own  object,  and  his 
activity  is  converiant  about  himfelf,  to  produce 

and 


Sect.  IV.     Volition  not  without  a  Cattfcl  €9 

and  determine  fome  effect  in  himfclf;  {till  the 
cxercife  of  his  activity  muft  go  before  the  ef 
fect,  which  he  brings  to  pafs  and  determines  by- 
it.  And  therefore  his  activity  cannot  be  the 
Caufe  of  the  determination  of  the  firft  action,  or 
exercife  of  activity  itfelf,  whence  the  effects  of 
activity  arife ;  for  that  would  imply  a  contra 
diction  ;  it  would  be  to  fay,  the  firft  exercife  of 
activity  is  before  the  firft  exercife  of  activity,  and 
is  the  Caufe  of  it. 

4.  That  the  foul,  though  an  active  fubftance, 
cannot  diverfify  its  own  acts,  but  by  firft  acting  • 
or  be  a  determining  Caufe  of  different  acts,  or  any 
different  effects,  fometimes  of  one  kind,  and 
fometimes  of  another,  any  other  way  than  in 
confequence  of  its  own  diverfe  acts,  is  manifeft 
by  this  ;  that  if  fo,  then  the  fome  Caufe,  the  fame 
caufal  Power,  Force  or  Influence,  without  vari 
ation  in  any  refpeft,  would  produce  different  effects 
at  different  times.  For  the  fame  fubiiance  of  the 
foul  before  it  acts,  and  the  fame  active  nature  of 
the  foul  before  it  is  exerted  (i.  e.  before  in  the 
order  of  nature)  would  be  the  Caufe  of  different 
effects,  viz.  Different  Volitions  at  different  times. 
But  the  fubftance  of  the  foul  before  it  acts,  and 
its  active  nature  before  it  is  exerted,  are  the  fame 
without  variation.  For  it  is  fome  act  that  makes 
the  firfl  variation  in  the  Caufe,  as  to  any  caufal 
exertion,  force  or  influence.  But  if  it  be  fo, 
that  the  foul  has  no  different  caufality,  or  diverfe 
caufal  force  or  influence,  in  producing  thefe  di 
verfe  effects  ;  then  it  is  evident,  that  the  foul  has 
no  influence,  no  hand  in  the  diverfity  of  the  ef 
fect  ;  and  that  the  difference  of  the  effect  cannot 
be  owing  to  any  thing  in  the  foul ;  or  which  is 
the  fame  thing,  the  foul  does  not  determine  the 
diverfity  of  the  effect ;  which  is  contrary  to  the 

F  3  fnp- 


*ro  Volition  not  ivitKoyt  a  Caufe.      Part  II. 

fuppofition. — It  is  true,  the  fubftance-of  the  foul 
before  it  acts,  and  before  there  is  any  difference 
in  that  refpect,  may  be  in  a,  different  ftate  and 
circumftances  :  but  thcfe  whom  I  oppofe,  will 
not  allow  the  different  circumilances  of  the  foul 
to  be  the  determining  Caufes  of  the  acts  of  the 
will ;  as  being  contrary  to  their  notion  of  felf-de- 
termination  and  felf-motion. 

5.  Let  us  fnppofe,  as  thefe  divines  do,  that 
there  are  no  acts  of  the  foul,  ftrictly  fpeaking, 
but  free  Volitions ;  then  it  -will  follow,  that  the 
foul  is  an  active  being  in  nothing  further  than  it 
is  a  voluntary  or  elective  being  ;  and  whenever  it 
produces  effects  actively,  it  produces  effects  vo 
luntarily  and  elect  ively.  But  to  produce  effects 
thus,  is  the  fame  thing  as  to  produce  effects  in 
confequence  of,  and  according  tQ  its  own  choice. 
And  if  fo,  then  furely  the  foul  does  not  by  its  ac 
tivity  produce  all  its  own  afts  of  will  or  choice 
themfelves  :  for  this,  by  the  fuppofltion,  is  to 
produce  all  its  free  acts  of  choice  voluntarily  and 
electively,  or  in  confequence  of  its  own  free  acts 
of  choice,  which  brings  the  matter  directly  to  the 
fore  -  mentioned  contradiction,  of  a  free  act  of 
choice  before  the  firft  free  act  of  choice. — Ac 
cording  to  thefe  gentlemen's  own  notion  of  ac 
tion,  if  there  arifes  in  the  mind  a  Volition  with 
out  a  free  act  of  the  will  or  choice  to  determine 
and  produce  it,  the  mind  is  not  the  active  volun 
tary  Caufe  of  that  Volition  •,  becaufe  it  does  not 
arife  from,  nor  is  regulated  by  choice  or  defign, 
And  therefore  it  cannot  be,  that  the  mincl  fliould 
be  the  active,  voluntary,  determining  Caufe  of  the 
firft  and  leading  Volition  that  relates  to  the  affair, 
• — -The  mind's  being  a  defigmng  Caufe,  only  enables 
it  to  produce  effects  in  cqrifequence  of  its  defign ; 
it  wrill  not  enable  it  to  be  the  defigmng  Caufe  of 

all 


Sect.  IV,    Volition  not  Without  a  Caufe.  71 

all  its  own  defigns.  The  mind's  being  an  ekftive 
Caufe,  will  only  enable  it  to  produce  effects  in 
confequence  of  its  ejections,  and  according  to  them; 
but  cannot  enable  it  to  be  the  elective  Caufe  of 
all  its  own  elections  ;  becaufe  that  fuppofes  an 
election  before  the  firfl  election.  So' the  mind's 
being  an  aftive  Caufe  enables  it  to  produce  effects 
in  confequence  of  its  own  afts,  but  cannot  enable 
it  to  be  the  determining  Caufe  of  all  its  own  afts ; 
for  that  is  Hill  in  the  fame  manner  a  contradic 
tion  ;  as  it  fuppofes  a  determining  act  conver- 
fant  about  the  firfl  act,  and  prior  to  it,  having  a 
caufal  influence  on  its  exiftence,  and  manner  of 
exifience, 

I  can  conceive  of  nothing  elfe  that  can  be  meant 
by  the  foul's  having  power  to  caule  and  determine 
its  own  Volitions,  as  a  being  to  whom  God  has 
given  a  power  of  action,  but  this ;  that  God  has 
given  power  to  the  foul,  fometimes  at  leail,  to  ex 
cite  Volitions  at  its  pleafure,  or  according  as  it 
chufes.  And  this  certainly  fuppofes,  in  all  fiich, 
cafes,  a  choice  preceding  all  Volitions  which  are 
thus  caufed,  even  the  firfl  of  them.  Which  runs, 
into  the  fore- mentioned  great  abfurdity. 

Therefore  the  activity  of  the  nature  of  the  foul 
affords  no  relief  from  the  difficulties  which  the 
notion  of  a  felf-determining  power  in  the  will  is 
attended  with,  nor  will  it  help,  in  the  lead,  its, 
abfurdities  and  inconfiflences, 


F  4  SECTION 


SECTION     V. 


S&ewtng,  that  if  the  things  offer  ted  in  thefe 

Jhould  be  fufpofed  to  be  true^  they  are  altogether 
impertinent  y  and  cannot  help  the  caufe  0/ Arminian 
Liberty,  and  how  (this  being  the  ft  ale  of  the 
cafe)  Arminian  Writers  are  obliged  to  talk  ineon- 
Jijlently. 

WH  AT  was  laft  obferved  in  the  preceding 
fection  may  fliew,  not  only  that  the  aclive 
nature  ot  the  foul  cannot  be  a  reafon  why  an  act 
of  the  will  is,  or  why  it  is  in  this  manner,  rather 
than  another  ;  but  alib  that  if  it  could  be  fo,  and 
it  could  be  proved  that  volitions  are  contingent 
events,  in  that  fenfe,  that  their  being  and  man 
ner  of  being  is  not  fixed  or  determined  by  any 
caufe,  or  any  thing' antecedent -,  it  would  not  at 
all  ferve  the  purpofe  of  Arminians^  to  eftablilh  the 
Freedom  of  the  Will,  according  to  their  notion 
of  its  freedom,  as  conflicting  in  the  will's  deter 
mination  ofitfelf;  which  fuppofes  every  free  acl 
of  the  will  to  be  determined  by  fome  acl:  of  the 
will  going  before  to  determine  it ;  inafmuch  as 
for  the  will  to  determine  a  thing,  is  the  fame  as 
for  the  foul  to  determine  a  thing  by  'willing  ;  and 
there  is  no  way  that  the  will  can  determine  an 
a£l  of  the  will,  than  by  willing  that  acl:  of  the 
will,  or,  which  is  the  fame  thing,  chufmg  it.  So 
that  here  muft  be  two  afts  of  the  will  in  the 
cafe,  one  going  before  another,  one  converfant 
about  the  other,  and  the  latter  the  object  of  the 
former,  and  chofen  by  the  former.  If  the  will 
does  not  caufe  and  determine  the  a6l  by  choice,  it 
does  not  caufe  or  determine  it  at  all ;  for  that  which 
\  is 


Seft.  V.       Tbefe  Evafiotts  impertinent.  73 

is  not  determined  by  choice,  is  not  determined 
voluntarily  or  willingly :  and  to  fay,  that  the  will 
determines  fomething  which  the  foul  does  not  de 
termine  willingly,  is  as  much  as  to  fay,  that 
fomething  is  done  by  the  will,  which  the  foul  doth 
not  with  its  will. 

So  that  if  Arminian  liberty  of  will,  confiding 
in  the  will's  determining  its  own  ads,  be  main 
tained,  the  old  abfurdity  and  contradiction  mufl 
be  maintained,  that  every  free  act  of  will  is 
caufed  and  determined  by  a  foregoing  free  act  of 
will.  Which  doth  not  confift  with  the  free  acts 
arifing  without  any  caufe,  and  being  fo  contingent, 
as  not  to  be  fixed  by  any  thing  foregoing.  So 
that  this  evafion  muft  be  given  up,  as  not  at  all 
relieving,  and  as  that  which,  inftead  of  fupport* 
ing  this  fort  of  liberty,  directly  deflroys  it. 

And  if  it  fhould  be  fuppofed,  that  the  foul  de 
termines  its  own1  acts  of  will  fome  other  way, 
than  by  a  foregoing  act  of  will ;  flill  it  will  not 
help  the  caufe  of  their  liberty  of  will.  If  it  de 
termines  them  by  an  act  of  the  underftanding, 
or  fome  other  power,  then  the  will  does  not  deter 
mine  itfelf\  and  fo  the  f elf -determining  power  of 
the  will  is  given  up.  And  what  liberty  is  there 
exercifed  according  to  their  own  opinion  of  1U 
berty,  by  the  foul's  being  determined  by  fome 
thing  beiides  its  ozvn  choice  ?  The  acts  of  the  will, 
it  is  true,  may  be  directed,  and  effectually  deter 
mined  and  fixed  ;  but  it  is  not  done  by  the  foul's 
own  will  and  pleafure  :  there  is  no  exercife  at  all 
of  choice  or  will  in  producing  the  effect :  and  if 
tvill  and  choice  are  not  exercifed  in  it,  how  is 
the  liberty  of  the  will  exercifed  in  it  ? 

So 


74  Thefe  Eva/ions  impertinent.        Part  II* 

So  that  let  Arminlam  turn  which  way  they 
pleafe  with  their  notion  of  liberty,  confifting  in 
the  will's  determining  its  own  acts,  their  no 
tion  deilroys  itfelf.  If  they  hold  every  free  aft 
of  will  to  be  determined  by  the  foul's  own  free 
choice,  or  foregoing  free  act  of  will ;  foregoing, 
either  in  the  order  of  time,  or  nature;  it  im 
plies  that  grofs  contradiction,  that  the  firft  free 
act  belonging  to  the  affair,  is  determined  by  a 
free  act  which  is  before  it.  Or  if  they  fay  that 
'the  free  acts  of  the  will  are  determined  by  fome 
otbcr  aci  of  the  foul,  and  not  an  act  of  will  or 
choice.  This  alfo  deftroys  their  notion  of  li 
berty  confilting  in  the  acts  of  the  will  being 
•determined  by  the  will  itfelf;  or  if  they  hold  that 
the  acts  of  the  will  are  determined  by  nothing  at 
all  that  is  prior  to  them,  but  that  they  are  con 
tingent,  in  that  fenfe,  that  they  are  determined  and 
fixed  by  no  caufe  at  all ;  this  alfo  deftroys  their 
notion  of  liberty,  coniifling  in  the  will's  deter 
mining  its  own  acts. 

This  being  the  true  ftate  of  the  Armiman  no 
tion  of  liberty,  it  hence  comes  to  pals,  that  the 
writer^  that  clefend  it  are  forced  into  grofs  incon- 
fiftences,  in  what  they  fay  upon  this  fubject.  To 
inftance  in  Dr.  Wbltly  \  he  in  his  difcourfe  on  the 
freedom  of  the  will,  *  oppofes  the  opinion  of 
the  Cahiniftsi  who  place  man's  liberty  only  in  a 
'power  of  doing  what  be  will,  as  that  wherein  they 
plainly  agree  with  Mr.  Holies.  And  yet  he  him- 
lelf  mentions  the  very  fame  notion  of  liberty* 
as  the  dictate  of  ib$  fenfe  and  common  re  of  on  of. 
mankind,  and  a  rule  laid  down  by  tbe  ligfit  of  na 
ture  ;  viz.  that  liberty  is  a  power  of  a&ing  from, 
curfehes,  or  DOING  WHAT  WE  WILL,  f  This 

*  In  his  Book  on  the  five  Points,  S?cpnd  Edit.  p.  350, 
351,  352.  f  Ibid.  p.  325,  326, 


Sect.  V.      Arminians  talk  inconfiftently.  73 

is  indeed,  as  he  fays,  a  thing  agreable  to  the 
fenfe  and  common  reafon  of  mankind ;  and  therefore 
it  is  not  fo  much  to  be  wondered  at,  that  he  un 
awares  acknowledges  it  againft  himfelf :  for  if 
liberty  does  not  confiit  in  this,  what  elfe  can  be 
devifed  that  it  mould  confiil  in  ?  if  it  be  faid,  as 
Dr.  Whitly  elfewhere  infills,  that  it  does  not  only 
confift  in  liberty  of  doing  what  we  will,  but  alfo 
a  liberty  of  willing  without  neceflity ;  flill  the 
queflion  returns,  what  does  that  liberty  of  wil 
ling  without  neceflity  confift  in,  but  in  a  power 
of  willing  as  we  pkafe,  without  being  impeded 
by  a  contrary  neceflity  ?  or  in  other  words,  a  li 
berty  for  the  foul  in  its  willing  to  acl:  according  to 
its  ozvn  choice?  Yea,  this  very  thing  the  fame 
author  feems  to  allow,  and  fuppofe  again  and 
again,  in  the  ufe  he  makes  of  fayings  of  the 
Fathers,  whom  he  quotes  as  his  vouchers.  Thus 
he  cites  the  words  of  Origen,  which  he  produces 
as  a  teflimony  on  his  fide  ;  *  The  foul  afts  bv 
HER  OWN  CHOICE,  and  it  is  free  for  her  to  in 
cline  to  whatever  fart  SHE  WILL.  And  thofe 
words  of  Jujlin  Martyr;  f  the  doctrine  of  the 
Cbrijlians  is  this,  that  nothing  is  done  jzr  fuffered  ac 
cording  to  fate,  but  that  every  man  doth  good  or  evil 
ACCORDING  TO  HIS  OWN  FREE  CHOICE. 
And  from  Eufebius,  thefe  words  ;  £  If  fate  be 
ejlablijhed,  philofophy  and  piety  are  overthrown. — 
All  thefe  things  depending  upon  the  necejjity  introduced 
by  the  Jlars,  and  not  upon  meditation  and  exercife 
PROCEEDING  FROM  OUR  OJVN  FREE 
CHOICE.  And  again,  the  words  of  Mace  anus ; 
||  God9  to  preferve  the  liberty  of  man's  will,  fuffered 
their  bodies  to  die,  that  it  might  be  IN  THEIR 

CHOICE  to  turn  to  good  or  evil. 'Tbey  who  are 

afted  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  are  not  held  under  any  ne- 

*  In  his  Book  on  the  five  Points,  Second  Edit.  p.  342. 
t  Ibid.  p.  360,         J  Ibid.  p.  363.         |J  Ibid.  369,  370. 

ceffity, 


76          Arminians  talk  inconfiftently.       Part  II. 
ceffityy  lut  have  liberty  to  turn  themfelves^  and  DO 

WHAT:  THEY  WILL  in  MS  life. 

Thus,  the  doctor  in  effect  comes  into  that  very 
notion  of  liberty,  which  the  Calvinifts  have ; 
which  he  at  the  fame  time  condemns,  as  agree 
ing  with  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Hobbes,  namely, 
the  foul's  afting  by  its  own  choice,  men's  doing 
good  or  evil  according  to  their  own  free  choice^  their 
being  in  that  ex er rife  which  proceeds  from  their  own 
free  choice,  having  it  in  their  choice  to  turn  to  good 
or  evil,  and  doing  what  they  will.  So  that  if  men 
exercife  this  liberty  in  the  acts  of  the  will  them- 
felves,  it  muft  be  in  exerting  acts  of  will  as  they 
will,  or  according  to  their  own  free  choice  ;  or  ex 
erting  acts  of  will  that  proceed  from  their  choice. 
And  if  it  be  fo,  then  let  every  one  judge  whether 
this  does  not  fuppofe  a  free  choice  going  before 
the  free  act  of  will,  or  whether  an  act  of  choice 
does  not  go  before  that  act  of  the  will  which  pro 
ceeds  from  it.  And  if  it  be  thus  with  all  free  acts 
of  the  will,  then  let  every  one  judge,  whether  it 
will  not  follow  that  there  is  a  free  choice  or  will 
going  before  the  Hrft  free  act  of  the  will  exerted 
in  the  cafe.  And  then  let  every  one  judge,  whe 
ther  this  be  not  a  contradiction.  And  finally, 
let  every  one  judge  whether  in  the  fcheme  of  thefe 
writers  there  be  any  pofiibilhy  of  avoiding  thefe 
abfurditics. 

If  liberty  confifts,  as  Dr.  IVhitby  himfclf  fays, 
in  a  man's  doing  what  be  will ;  and  a  man  exer- 
cifes  this  liberty,  not  only  in  external  actions, 
but  in  the  acts  of  the  will  themfelves ;  then  fo 
far  as  liberty  is  exercifcd  in  the  latter,  it  confifts 
in  willing  what  h  wills :  and  if  any  lay  fo,  one 
of  thefe  two  things  muft  be  meant,  either,  i.  That 
a  man  has  power  to  will,  as  he  does  will  -,  becaufe 

what- 


Sect.  V.     Arminians  talk  inconfiftently.  77 

what  he  wills,  he  wills  ;  and  therefore  has  power 
to  will  what  he  has  power  to  will.  If  this  be  their 
meaning,  then  all  this  mighty  controverfy  about 
freedom  of  the  will  and  felf-determining  power, 
comes  wholly  to  nothing ;  all  that  is  contended 
for  being  no  more  than  this,  that  the  mind  of 
man  does  what  it  does,  and  is  the  fubject  of  what 
it  is  the  fubject  of,  or  that  what  is,  is ;  wherein 
none  has  any  controverfy  with  them.  Or,  2.  The 
meaning  muft  be,  that  a  man  has  power  to  will 
as  he  pleafes  or  chufes  to  will :  that  is,  he  has 
power  by  one  act  of  choice,  to  chufe  another ; 
by  an  antecedent  act  of  will  to  chute  a  confequenc 
act ;  and  therein  to  execute  his  own  choice. 
And  if  this  be  their  meaning,  it  is  nothing  but 
fhuffling  with  thofe  they  difpute  with,  and  baffling 
their  own  reafon.  For  ftill  the  queftion  returns, 
wherein  lies  man's  liberty  in  that  antecedent  act 
of  will  which  chofe  the  confequent  act.  The  an- 
fwer  according  to  the  fame  principles  muft  be, 
that  his  liberty  in  this  alio  lies  in  his  willing  as 
he  would,  or  as  he  chofe,  or  agreable  to  another 
act  of  choice  preceding  that.  And  fo  the  queftion 
returns  in  mfinitum^  and  the  like  anfwer  muft  be 
made  in  infinitum :  in  order  to  fupport  their  opi 
nion,  there  muft  be  no  beginning,  but  free  acts 
of  will  muft  have  been  chofen  by  foregoing  free 
afts  of  will  in  the  foul  of  every  man,  without  be 
ginning  ;  and  fo  before  he  had  a  being,  from  all 
eternity. 


SECTION 


SECTION     VL 

Concerning  tbe  WiWs  determining  in  Things  ivbicb 
are  perfeftly  indifferent,  'in  tbe  View  of  tbe 
Mind. 

A  Great  argument  for  felf-deter mining  power, 
is  the  luppofed  experience  we  univerfally 
have  of  an  ability  to  determine  our  Wills,  in 
cafes  wherein  no  prevailing  motive  is  prefented  : 
the  Will  (as  is  fuppofed)  has  its  choice  to  make 
between  two  or  more  things,  that  are  perfectly 
equal  in  the  view  of  the  mind ;  and  the  Will  is 
apparently  altogether  indifferent ;  and  yet  we  find 
no  difficulty  in  coming  to  a  choice  \  the  Will 
can  inftantly  determine  itfelf  to  one,  by  a  fove- 
veign  power  which  it  has  over  itfelf*  without  be 
ing  moved  by  any  preponderating  inducement. 

Thus  the  fore-mentioned  author  of  an  Effay  on 
tbe  Freedom  of  tbe  Will,  &c.  p.  25,  26,  27,  fup- 
poles,  tc  That  there  are  many  initances,  wherein 
"  the  Will  is  determined  neither  by  prefent  un- 
"  eafinefs,  nor  by  the  greateft  apparent  good,  nor 
"  by  the  lait  dictate  of  the  underftanding,  nor 
"  by  any  thing  clie,  but  merely  by  itfelf,  as  a 
"  fovereign  felf-determining  power  of  the  foul ; 
"  and  that  the  foul  does  not  will  this  or  that 
"  action,  in  fome  cafes,  by  any  other  influence 
"  but  becaufe  it  will.  Thus  (fays  he)  I  can  turn 
"  my  face  to  the  South,  or  the  North ;  I  can 
"  point  with  my  finger  upward,  or  downward. — 
"  And  thus,  in  fome  cafes,  the  Will  determines 
"  itfelf  in  a  very  fovereign  manner,  becaufe  it 
"  will,  without  a  realbn  borrowed  from  the  un- 
*'  derftanding :  and  hereby  it  difcovers  its  own 
"  perfecl:  power  of  choice,  rifing  from  within  it- 


Sect.  VI.  Ofchifingin  Things  indifferent:  79 
"  felf,  and  free  from  all  influence  or  re  it  rain  t  of 
*c  any  kind/'  And  in  pages  66,  70,  and  73,  74, 
this  author  very  exprefsly  fuppofes  the  Will  in 
many  cafes  to  be  determined  by  no  motive  at  all, 
and  afts  altogether  without  motive,  or  ground  of 
preference* — Here  I  would  obferve, 

i.  The  very  fnppofition  which  is  here  made, 
directly  contradicts  and  overthrows  itfelf.  For 
the  thing  fuppofed,  wherein  this  grand  argument 
confiils,  is,  that  among  feveral  things  the  Will 
actually  chufes  one  before  another,  at  the  fame 
time  that  it  is  perfectly  indifferent ;  which  is  the 
very  fame  thing  as  to  fay,  the  mind  has  a  pre 
ference,  at  the  fame  time  that  it  has  no  prefe 
rence.  What  is  meant  cannot  be,  that  the  mind 
is  indifferent  before  it  comes  to  have  a  choice,  or 
until  it  has  a  preference  •,  or,  which  is  the  fame 
thing,  that  the  mind  is  indifferent  until  it  comes, 
to  be  not  indifferent.  For  certainly  this  author 
did  not  fuppofe  he  had  a  controverfy  with  any 
perfon  in  fuppofing  this.  And  then  it  is  nothing 
to  his  purpoie,  that  the  mind  which  chufes,  was 
indifferent  once -,  unlefs  it  chufes,  remaining  in 
different  •,  for  otherwife,  it  does  not  chufe  at  all 
in  that  cafe  of  indifference,  concerning  which  is 
all  the  queftion.  Befides,  it  appears  in  fact,  that 
the  thing  which  this  author  fuppofes,  is  not  that 
the  Will  chufes  one  thing  before  another,  con 
cerning  which  it  is  indifferent  before  it  chufes  ;  but 
alfo  is  indifferent  when  it  chufes ;  and  that  its  be 
ing  otherwife  than  indifferent  is  not  until  after 
wards,  in  confequence  of  its  choice  ;  that  the  cho- 
fen  thing's  appearing  preferable  and  more  agreable 
than  another,  arifes  from  its  choice  already  made. 
His  words  are  (p.  30.)  "  Where  the  objects 
"  which  are  propofed,  appear  equally  fit  or  good, 
tc  the  Will  is  left  without  a  guide  or  director ; 

"  and 


66 


*< 


So        Of  chufing  in  Things  indifferent.     Part  II. 

and  therefore  muft  take  its  own  choice,  by  its 
own  determination  j  it  being  properly  a  felf- 
determining  power.  And  in  fuch  cafes  the 
will  does  as  it  were  make  a  good  to  itfelf  by 
its  own  choice,  i.  e.  creates  its  o\vn  pleafure 
"  or  delight  in  this  felf-chofen  good.  Even  as 
"  a  man  by  feizing  upon  a  fpot  of  unoccupied 
"  land,  in  an  uninhabited  country,  makes  it  his 
"  own  polfeffion  and  property,  and  as  fuch  re- 
"  joices  in  it.  Where  things  wrere  indifferent 
"  before,  the  will  finds  nothing  to  make  them 
"  more  agreable,  confidered  meerly  in  themfelves  ; 
"  but  the  pleafure  it  feels  ARISING  FROM 
«  ITS  OWN  CHOICE,  and  its  perfeverance 
"  therein.  We  love  many  things  which  we  have 
«  chofen,  AND  PURELY  BECAUSE  WE 
"  CHOSE  THEM." 

This  is  as  much  as  to  fay,  that  we  firft  begin 
to  prefer  many  things,  now  ceafing  any  longer 
to  be  indifferent  with  refpedt  to  them,  purely  be- 
caufe  we  have  preferred  and  chofen  them  before. 
—  Thefe  things  muft  needs  be  fpoken  inconfide- 
rately  by  this  author.  Choice  or  preference  can 
not  be  before  itfelf  in  the  fame  inftancc,  either 
in  the  order  of  time  or  nature  :  It  cannot  be  the 
foundation  of  itfelf,  or  the  fruit  or  confequence 
of  itfelf.  The  very  act  of  chufing  one  thing  ra- 
iherthan  another,  is  preferring  that  thing,  and  that 
is  fetting  a  higher  value  on  that  thing.  But  that 
the  mind  fcts  an  higher  value  on  one  thing  than 
another,  is  nor,  in  the  firft  place,  the  fruit  of  its 
fetting  a  higher  value  on  that  thing. 

This  author  fays,  p.  36,  "  The  will  may  be 
"  perfectly  indifferent,  and  yet  the  will  may  dc- 
"  termine  itfeif  to  chufe  one  or  the  other."  And 
again  in  the  fame  pase,  u  I  a:n  entirely  in- 

"  different: 


Sea.  VI.     Of  the  Will's  determining,  Sec."          8t 
"  different  to  either  •,  and  yet  my  Will  may  de- 
*€  termine  itielf  to  chufe."  And  again,  <c  Which 
"  I  fhall  chufe  mufl  be  determined  by  the  meer 
"  ad  of  my  Will."     If  the  choice  is  determined 
by  a  meer  act  of  Will,  then  the  choice  is  deter 
mined  by  a  meer  act  of  choice.     And  concern 
ing  this  matter,  viz.  That  the  act  of  the  Will  it 
felf  is  determined   by  an  ad  of  choice,  this  wri 
ter  is-exprefs,  in  page  72.     Speaking  of  the  cafe, 
where  there  is  no  iuperior  fitnefs  in  objects  pre- 
fented,  he  has  thefe  words ;  "  There  it  muft  act 
"  by  its  own  CHOICE,  and  determine  itielf  as 
"  it  PLEASES/'    Where  it  is  fuppofed  that  the 
very  determination,  which  is  the  ground  and  fpring 
of  the  Will's  act,  is  an  act  of  choice  and  pkafure> 
wherein  one  act  is  more  agreable,  and  the  mind 
better  pleafed  in  it  than  another  \  and  this  pre 
ference,  w\&  fitperior  pleafednefs  is  the  ground  of  all 
it  does  in  the  cafe.     And  if  fo,  the  mind  is   not 
indifferent  when  it  determines  itfelf,  but  had  ra~ 
tber  do  one  thing  than  another,  had  rather  deter 
mine  itfelf  one  way  than  another.     And  therefore 
the  Will  does  not  act  at  all   in  indifference ;  not 
fo  much  as  in  the  firlt  ftep  it  takes,  or  the  firft 
rife  and  beginning  of  its  acting.     If  it  be  poffi- 
bie  for  the  underftanding  to  act  in  indifference, 
yet  to  be  fure  the  Will  never  does  •,  becaufe  the. 
Will's  beginning  to  act  is  the  very  fame  thing  as 
its  beginning  to  chufe  or  prefer.     And  if  in   the 
very  firft  act  of  the  Will,  the  mind  prefers  fome- 
thing,  then  the  idea  of  that  thing  preferred,  does 
at  that   time    preponderate,    or    prevail   in  the 
mind :  or,  which  is  the  fame  thing,  the  idea  of 
it  has  a   prevailing  influence  on  the   Will.     So 
that  this  wholly  deitroys  the  thing  fuppofed,  viz. 
That  the  mind  can  by  a  fovereign  power  chuic 
one  of  two  or  mpre  things,  which  in  the  view 
ef  the  mind   are,    in   every   refpect,    perfectly 
G  equal, 


82  Of  the  Will's  determining  Part  II. 

equal,  one  of  which  does  not  at  all  preponderate, 
nor  has  any  prevailing  influence  on  the  mind  above 
another. 

So  that  this  author,  in  his  grand  argument  for 
the  ability  of  the  Will  to  chufe  one  of  two,  or 
more  things,  concerning  which  it  is  perfectly  in 
different,  does  at  the  fame  time,  in  effect,  deny 
the  thing  he  fuppofes,  and  allows  and  afferts  the 
point  he  endeavours  to  overthrow  5  even  that  the 
Will,  in  chufing,  is  fubject  to  no  prevailing  in 
fluence  of  the  idea,  or  view  of  the  thing  chofen. 
And  indeed  it  is  impoffible  to  offer  this  argument 
without  overthrowing  it*  the  thing  fuppofed  in 
it  being  inconfiftent  with  itfelf,  and  that  which 
denies  itfelf.  To  fuppofe  the  Will  to  act  at  all 
in  a  ftate  of  perfect  indifference,  either  to  deter 
mine  itfelf,  or  to  do  any  thing  elfe,  is  to  aiTert 
that  the  mind  chufes  without  chufing.  To  fay 
that  when  it  is  indifferent,  it  can  do  as  it  pleafes, 
is  to  fay  that  it  can  follow  its  pleafure,  when  it 
has  no  pleafure  to  follow.  And  therefore  if  there 
be  any  difficulty  in  the  inftances  of  two  cakes,  or 
two  eggs,  &c.  which  are  exactly  alike,  one  as 
good  as  another  •,  concerning  which  this  author 
fuppofes  the  mind  in  fact  has  a  choice,  and  fo  in 
effect  fuppofes  that  it  has  a  preference  ;  it  as  much 
concerned  himfeif  to  folve  the  difficulty,  as  it  does 
ihofe  whom  he  oppofes.  For  if  thefe  inftances 
prove  any  thing  to  his  purpofe,  they  prove  that 
a  man  chufes  without  choice.  And  yet  this  is 
not  to  his  purpofe  j  becaufe  if  this  is  what  he 
afferts,  his  own  words  are  as  much  againft  him, 
and  do  as  much  contradict  him,  as  the  words  of 
thofe  he  difputes  againft  can  do. 

2.  There 


SecVVI.         in  Things  indifferent.  83 

2.  There  is  no  great  difficulty  in  (hewing,  in 
fuch  inftances  as  are  alledged,  not  only  that  it 
muft  needs  befo,  that  the  mind  muft  be  influenced 
in  its  choice  by  fomething  that  has  a  preponde 
rating  influence  upon  it,  but  zlfobow  it  is  fo.  A 
little  attention  to  our  own  experience,  and  a  di- 
ftinct  confideration  of  the  ads  of  our  own  minds, 
in  fuch  cafes,  will  be  fufrkient  to  clear  up  the 
matter. 

Thus,  fuppoiing  I  have  a  chefs-board  before 
me ;  and  becaufe  I  am  required  by  a  fuperior,  or 
defired  by  a  friend,  or  to  make  fome  experiment 
concerning  my  own  ability  and  liberty,  or  on 
fome  other  confideration,  I  am  determined  to 
touch  fome  one  of  the  fpots  or  fquares  on  the 
board  with  my  finger;  not  being  limited  or  di 
rected  in  the  firft  propofal,  or  my  own  firft  pur- 
pofe,  which  is  general,  to  any  one  in  particular; 
and  there  being  nothing  in  the  fquares  in  them- 
ielves  conlidered,  that  recommends  any  one  of  all 
the  nxty-four,  more  than  another :  in  this  cafe, 
my  mind  determines  to  give  itfeif  up  to  what  is 
vulgarly  called  accident*,  by  determining  to  touch 
that  fquare  which  happens  to  be  mod  in  viewr, 
which  my  eye  is  efpecially  upon  at  that  moment, 
or  which  happens  to  be  then  moft  in  my  mind,  or 
which  I  mall  be  directed  to  by  fome  other  fuch- 
like  accident.  Here  are  feveral  fteps  of  the 
mind's  proceeding  (though  all  may  be  done  as  it 
were  in  a  moment)  the  firft  fbep  is  its  general  de 
termination  that  it  will  touch  one  of  the  fquares. 

G  2  The 

*  I  have  elfewhere  obferved  what  that  is  which  is  vulgarly 
called  accident ;  that  it  is  nothing  akin  to  the  Ar  mini  an  meta- 
physical  notion  of  continence,  iomething  not  conneded  with 
any  thing  foregoing  ;  but  that  it  is  fomething  that  comes  to 
pals  in  the  courfe  of  things,  in  fome  affair  that  men  are  con 
cerned  in,  unforefeen,  and  not  owing  to  their  defign. 


84  Of  the  Witts  determining         Part  II. 

The  next  ftep  is  another  general  determination  to 
give  itfelf  up  to  accident,  in  fome  certain  way ; 
as  to  touch  that  which  fhall  be  mod  in  the  eye 
or  mind  at  that  time,  or  to  fome  other  fuch-like 
accident.  The  third  and  laft  ftep  is  a  particular 
determination  to  touch  a  certain  individual .fpot, 
even  that  fquare,  which,  by  that  fort  of  accident 
the  mind  has  pitched  upon,  has  actually  offered 
itfelf  beyond  others.  Now  it  is  apparent  that  ia 
rione  of  thefe  feveral  fteps  does  the  mind  proceed 
in  abfolute  indifference,  but  in  each  of  them*  is 
influenced  by  a  preponderating  inducement.  So 
it  is  in  the  frft  ftep ;  the  mind's  general  deter 
mination  to  touch  one  of  the  fixty-four  fpots ; 
the  mind  is  not  abfolutely  indifferent  whether  it 
does  fo  or  no :  it  is  induced  to  it,  for  the  fake  of 
malting  fome  experiment,  or  by  the  defire  of  a 
friend*  or  fome  other  motive  that  prevails*  So 
it  is  in  the  Jecond  ftep>  the  mind's  determining 
to  give  itfelf  up  to  accident,  by  touching  that 
which  fhall  be  moil  in  the  eye,  or  the  idea  of 
which  mall  be  moil  prevalent  in  the  mind,  &c. 
The  mind  is  not  abfolutely  indifferent  whether  it 
proceeds  by  this  rule  or  no  •,  but  chufes  it  be- 
caufe  it  appears  at  that  time  a  convenient  and 
requiiite  expedient  in  order  to  fulfil  the  general 
purpofe  aforefaid.  And  fo  it  is  in  the  third  and 
laft  ftep,  it  is  determining  to  touch  that  indivi 
dual  fpot  which  actually  does  prevail  in  the  mind's 
view.  The  mind  is  not  indifferent  concerning 
this  ;  but  is  influenced  by  a  prevailing  induce 
ment  and  reafon  ;  which  is,  that  this  is  a  profe- 
cution  of  the  preceding  determination,  which  ap 
peared  requifite,  and  was  fixed  before  in  the  fecond 
ftep. 

Accident  will  ever  ferve  a  man,  without  hin 
dering  him  a  moment,  in  fuch  a  cafe.     It  will  al- 
2  wavs 


Seft.  VI.  in  Things  indifferent.  85 

ways  be  fo  among  a  number  of  objects  in  view, 
one  will  prevail  in  the  eye,  or  in  idea  beyond 
others.  When  we  have  our  eyes  open  in  the  clear 
fun-fhine,  many  objects  ftri'kc  the  eye  at  once, 
and  innumerable  images  may  be  at  once  painted 
in  it  by  the  rays  of  light  •,  but  the  attention  of 
the  mind  is  not  equal  to  feveral  of  them  at  once ; 
or  if  it  be,  it  does  not  continue  fo  for  any  time. 
And  fo  it  is  with  refpect  to  the  ideas  of  the  mind 
in  general :  feveral  ideas  are  not  in  equal  ilrength 
in  the  mind's  view  and  notice  at  once ;  or  at  leaft, 
does  not  remain  fo  for  any  fenfible  continuance. 
There  is  nothing  in  the  \vorld  more  conflantly 
varying,  than  the  ideas  of  the  mind  :  they  do  not 
remain  precifely  in  the  fame  ftate  for  the  leaft  per 
ceivable  fpace  of  time :  as  is  evident  by  this. 
That  all  perceivable  time  is  judged  and  perceived 
by  the  mind  only  by  the  fuccelfion  or  the  fuccef- 
five  changes  of  its  own  ideas.  Therefore  while 
the  views  or  perceptions  of  the  mind  remain  pre 
cifely  in  the  fame  ftate,  there  is  no  perceivable 
fpace  or  length  of  time,  becaufe  no  fenfible  fuc- 
ceflion  at  all. 

As  trie  acts  of  the  Will,  in  each  ftep  of  th<$ 
fore-mentioned  procedure,  does  not  come  to  pafs 
without  a  particular  caule,  every  act  is  owing 
to  a  prevailing  inducement :  fo  the  accident,  as 
J  have  called  it,  or  that  which  happens  in  the 
nnlearchable  courfe  of  things,  to  which  the  mind 
yields  itfelf,  and  by  which  it  is  guided,  is  not  any 
thing  that  comes  to  pafs  without  a  caufe ;  and 
the  mind  in  derermining  to  be  guidecf  by  it,  is 
not  determined  by  fomething  that  has  no  caufe ; 
any  more  than  if  it  determined  to  be  guided  by  a 
lot,  or  the  cafting  of  a  die.  For  though  the  die's 
falling  in  inch  a  manner  be  accidental  to  him  that 
cafts  it,  yet  none  will  fuppofe  that  there  is  no 
G  3  caufe 


86  Of  tie  Will's,  determining,  &c.     Part  II. 

caufe  why  it  falls  as  it  does.  The  involuntary 
changes  in  the  fucceffion  of  our  ideas,  though  the 
caufe  may  not  be  obferved,  have  as  much  a  caufe, 
as  the  changeable  motions  of  the  motes  that  float 
in  the  air,  or  the  continual,  infinitely  various, 
fucceffive  changes  of  the  uneveneffes  on  the  fur- 
face  of  the  water. 

There  are  two  things  efpecially,  which  are 
probably  the  occafions  of  confufion  in  the  minds 
of  them  who  infift  upon  it,  that  the  will  ads  in  a 
proper  indifference,  and  without  being  moved  by 
any  inducement,  in  its  determinations  in  fuch  cafes 
as  have  been  mentioned. 

i .  They  feem  to  miflake  the  point  in  queflion, 
or  at  leaft  not  to  keep  it  diftinctly  in  view.  The 
queflion  they  difpute  about,  is,  Whether  the  mind 
be  indifferent  about  the  objefts  prefented,  one  of 
which  is  to  be  taken,  touched,  pointed  to,  &c.  as 
two  eggs,  two  cakes,  which  appear  equally  good. 
Whereas  the  queftion  to  be  coniidered,  is,  Whe 
ther  the  perfon  be  indifferent  with  refpect  to  his 
own  a&ions  -9  whether  he  does  not,  on  fome  con- 
fideration  or  other,  prefer  one  act  with  refpect  to 
thefe  objects  before  another.  The  mind  in  its  deter 
mination  and  choice,  in  thefe  cafes,  is  not  mod  im 
mediately  and  directly  converfant  about  the  objefts 
frefented-y  but  tie  atts  to  le  done  concerning  thefe 
objects.  The  objects  may  appear  equal,  and  the 
mind  may  never  properly  make  any  choice  between 
them :  but  the  next  act  of  the  Will  being  about  the 
external  actions  to  be  performed,  taking,  touch 
ing,  &c.  thefe  may  not  appear  equal,  and  one  ac 
tion  may  properly  be  chofen  before  another.  In 
each  ftep  of  the  mind's  progrefs,  the  determination 
is  not  about  the  objects,  unlefs  indirectly  and  im 
properly,  but  about  the  actions,  which  it  chufes  for 

other 


§ect.  VI.  Of  chufmg  in  Things  indifferent.  £7 
other  reafons  than  any  preference  of  the  objects, 
and  for  reafons  not  taken  at  all  from  the  objects. 

There  is  no  neceflity  of  fuppofmg,  that  the 
mind  does  ever  at  all  properly  chufe  one  of  the 
objects  before  another ;  either  before  it  has  taken, 
or  afterwards.  Indeed  the  man  chufes  to  take  or 
touch  one  rather  than  another ;  but  not  becauie  it 
chufes  the  thing  taken,  or  touched  ;  but  from  fo 
reign  confederations.  The  cafe  may  be  fo,  that 
of  two  things  offered,  a  man  may,  for  certain, 
reafons,  chufe  and  prefer  the  taking  of  that  which 
he  undervalues,  and  chufe  to  neglect  to  take  that 
which  his  mind  prefers.  In  fuch  a  cafe,  chufmg 
the  thing  taken,  and  chufmg  to  take,  are  diverfe : 
and  fo  they  are  in  a  cafe  where  the  things  pre- 
fented  are  equal  in  the  mind's  efteem,  and  nei 
ther  of  them  preferred.  All  that  fad  and  ex 
perience  mates  evident,  is,  that  the  mind  chufes 
one  action  rather  than  another.  And  therefore 
the  arguments'  which  they  bring,  in  order  to  be 
to  their  purpofe,  ought  to  be  to  prove  that  the 
mind  chufes  the  action  in  perfect  indifference,, 
with  refpect  to  that  action  -,  and  not  to  prove  that 
the  mind  chufes  the  action  in  perfect  indifference 
with  refpect  to  the  object;  which  is  very  poflible, 
and  yet  the  will  not  act  at  all  without  prevalent: 
inducement,  and  proper  preponderation. 

2.  Another  reafon  of  confufion  and  difHculcy 
in  this  matter,  feems  to  be,  not  diftinguifhing 
between  a  general  indifference,  or  an  indifference 
with  refpect  to  what  is  to  be  done  in  a  more  di- 
ftant  and  general  view  of  it,  and  a  particular  in 
difference,  or  an  indifference  with  refpect  to  the 
next  immediate  act,  viewed  with  its  particular 
and  prefent  circumitances.  A  man  may  be  per 
fectly  indifferent  with  refpect  to  his  own  aftions% 

in 


88  Of  Liberty  of  Indifference.         Part  It 

in  the  former  refpect  ;  and  yet  not  in  the  latter. 
Thus,  in  the  foregoing  inftance  of  touching  one 
of  the  fqnares  of  a  chefs-board  ;  when  it  is  firft 
propofed  that  I  fliould  touch  one  of  them,  I  may 
be  perfectly  indifferent  which  I  touch  \  becaufe  as 
yet  I  view  the  matter  remotely  and  generally,  be 
ing  but  in  the  firft  ftep  of  the  mind's  progrefs  in 
the  affair.  But  yet,  when  I  am  actually  come  to 
the  laft  ftep,  and  the  very  next  thing  to  be  deter 
mined  is  which  is  to  be  touched,  having  already 
determined  that  I  will  touch  that  which  happens 
to  be  moil  in  my  eye  or  mind,  and  my  mind  be 
ing  now  fixed  on  a  particular  one,  the  act  of  touch 
ing  that,  confidered  thus  immediately,  and  in  thefc 
particular  prefent  circumftances,  is  not  what  my 
mind  is  abfolutely  indifferent  about. 

SECTION     VIL 

Concerning  the  notion  of  Liberty  of  Will,  confifllng 
in  Indifference. 

WHAT  has  been  faid  in  the  foregoing  fec- 
tiop,  has  a  tendency  in  fomc  meafure  to 
evince  the  abfurdity  of  the  opinion  of  fuch  as 
place  Liberty  in  Indifference,  or  in  that  equili 
brium  whereby  the  Will  is  without  all  antecedent 
determination  or  bias,  and  left  hitherto  free  from 
any  prepofTefling  inclination  to  one  fide  or  the 
other  ;  that  the  determination  of  the  Will  to  ei 
ther  fide  may  be  entirely  from  itfelf,  and  that  it 
may  be  owing  only  to  its  own  power,  and  that 
fovereignty  which  it  has  over  itfclf,  thit  it  goes 
this  way  rather  than  that*. 

But 


*  Dr.  ffkitfy^   and  Tome  other  Armenians*  make  a  diftinc- 
tion  of  different  kinds  of  freedom  j  one  of  God,  and  per- 


Sea.  VII.     Of  Liberty  of  Indifference.  89 

But  in  as  much  as  this  has  been  of  fuch  long 
ftanding,  and  has  been  fo  generally  received,  and 
fb  much  infilled  on  by  Pelanans,  Semi-Pelagians  9 
JeJuilSy  Socinians,  Arminians,  and  others,  it  may 
deferve  a  more  full  confederation.  And  therefore 
I  mall  now  proceed  to  a  more  particular  and 
thorough  enquiry  into  this  notion. 

Now  left  fome  mould  fuppofe  that  I  do  not  un- 
derftand  thofe  that  place  Liberty  in  Indifference, 
or  mould  charge  me  with  mifreprefenting  their 
opinion,  I  would  fignify,  that  I  am  fenfible,  there 
are  fome,  who  when  they  talk  of  the  Liberty  of 
the  Will  as  confiding  in  Indifference,  exprefs 
themfelves  as  tho*  they  would  not  be  underftood 
of  the  Indifference  of  the  inclination  or  tendency 
of  the  will,  but  of,  I  know  not  what,  Indifference 
of  the  foul's  power  of  willing  ;  or  that  the  Will, 
with  relpect  to  its  power  or  ability  to  chufe,  is 
indifferent,  can  go  either  way  indifferently,  either 

to 

feft  fpirits  above ;  another  of  perfons  In  a  ftate  of  trial. 
The  former  Dr.  Whitby  allows  to  confiit  with  neceifity ;  the 
latter  he  holds  to  be  without  neceflity :  and  this  latter  he 
fuppofes  to  be  requifite  to  our  being  the  fubjedls  of  praife  or 
difpraife,  rewards  or  punifhments,  precepts  and  prohibitions, 
promifes  and  threats,  exhortations  and  dehortations,  and  a 
covenant-treaty.  And  to  this  freedom  he  fuppofes  Indiffe 
rence  to  be  requilite.  In  his  Difcourfe  on  the  five  points,  p.  299, 
300,  he  fays ;  "  It  is  a  freedom  (fpeaking  of  a  freedom  not 
*'  only  from  co-a&ion,  but  from  neceflity)  requifite,  as  we 
"  conceive,  to  render  us  capable  of  trial  or  probation,  and  to 
"  render  our  actions  worthy  of  praife  or  difpraife,  and  our 
•'  perfons  of  rewards  or  punifhments."  And  in  the  next  page, 
fpeaking  of  the  fame  matter,  he  fays,  "  Excellent  to  this 
"  purpofe,  are  the  words  of  Mr.  1'horndike  :  We  fay  not>  that 
41  Indifference  is  requijite  to  all  freedom,  but  to  the  freedom  of 
tf  man  alone  in  this  ft  ate  of  travail  and  proficience:  the  ground 
'*  of  which  is  God's  tender  of  a  treaty,  and  conditions  of  peace 
•'  and  reconcilement  to  fallen  man,  together  with  thofe  precepts 
**  and  prohibitions,  thofe  promifes  and  threats ,  thofe  exhortation! 
"  and  dehortations,  it  is  enforced  with" 


90  Of  Liberty  confijting  Part  II. 

to  the  right  hand  or  left,  either-  act  or  forbear  to 
act,  one  as  well  as  the  other.  Tho'  this  feems  to 
be  a  refining  only  of  fome  particular  writers, 
and  newly  invented,  and  which  will  by  no  means 
confift  with  the  manner  of  expreflion  ufed  by  the 
defenders  of  Liberty  of  Indifference  in  general. 
And  I  wifh  fuch  refiners  would  thoroughly  con- 
fider,  whether  they  diftinclly  know  their  own 
meaning,  when  they  make  a  diflinftion  between 
Indifference  of  the  foul  as  to  its  power  or  ability 
of  willing  or  chufmg,  and  the  foul's  Indifference 
as  to  the  preference  or  choice  itfelf ;  and  whether 
they  do  not  deceive  themfelves  in  imagining  that 
they  have  any  diftincl:  meaning  at  all.  The  In 
difference  of  the  foul  as  to  its  ability  or  power 
to  will,  muft  be  the  fame  thing  as  the  Indiffe 
rence  of  the  ftate  of  the  power  or  faculty  of  the 
Will,  or  the  Indifference  of  the  ftate  which  the 
foul  itfelf,  which  has  that  power  or  faculty,  hi 
therto  remains  in,  as  to  the  exercife  of  that  power, 
ill  the  choice  it  ihall  by  and  by  make. 

But  not  to  infift  any  longer  on  the  abftrufenefs 
and  inexplicablenefs  of  this  diftinction  ;  let  what 
will  be  fuppofed  concerning  the  meaning  of  them 
that  make  ufe  of  it,  thus  much  muft  at  leaft  be 
intended  by  Arminians  when  they  talk  of  Indiffe 
rence  as  effential  to  Liberty  of  Will,  if  they  in 
tend  any  thing,  in  any  refpect  to  their  purpofe, 
viz.  That  it  is  fuch  an  Indifference  as  leaves  the 
Will  not  determined  already;  but  free  from  ac 
tual  pofiefiion,  and  vacant  of  predetermination, 
fo  far,  that  there  may  be  room  for  the  exprcife  of 
the  Jelf -determining  power  of  the  Will ;  and  that 
the  Will's  freedom  confifts  in,  or  depends  upon 
this  vacancy  and  opportunity  that  is  left  for  the 
Will  itfelf  to  be  the  determiner  of  the  aft  that  is 
to  be  the  free  aft, 

And 


Sect.  VII.  in  Indifference.'  91 

And  here  I  would  obferve  in  the  firft  place,  that 
to  make  out  this  fcheme  of  Liberty,  the  Indiffe 
rence  muft  be  perfefl  and  abfolute ;  there  muft  be 
a  perfect  freedom  from  all  antecedent  preponde- 
ration  or  inclination.  Becaufe  if  the  Will  be  al 
ready  inclined,  before  it  exerts  its  own  fovereign 
power  on  itfelf,  then  its  inclination  is  not  wholly 
pwing  to  itfelf:  if  when  two  oppofites  are 
propofed  to  the  foul  for  its  choice,  the  propofal 
does  not  find  the  foul  wholly  in  a  date  of  Indiffe 
rence,  then  it  is  not  found  in  a  (late  of  Liberty 
for  meer  felf-determination. — The  leaft  degree  of 
an  antecedent  bias  muft  be  inconfiftent  with  their 
notion  of  Liberty.  For  fo  long  as  prior  inclina 
tion  pofleffes  the  Will,  and  is  not  removed,  it  binds 
the  Will,  fo  that  it  is  utterly  impoffible  that  the 
Will  fhould  act  otherwife  than  agreably  to  it. 
Surely  the  Will  cannot  ad:  or  chufe  contrary  to  a 
remaining  prevailing  inclination  of  the  Will.  To 
fuppofe  otherwife,  would  be  the  fame  thing  as  to 
fuppoie,  that  the  Will  is  inclined  contrary  to  its 
prefent  prevailing  inclination^  or  contrary  to  what 
it  is  inclined  to.  That  which  the  Will  chufes  and 
prefers,  that,  all  things  confidered,  it  prepon 
derates  and  inclines  to.  It  is  equally  impoflible 
for  the  Will  to  chufe  contrary  to  its  own  remain 
ing  and  prefent  preponderating  inclination,  as  it  is 
to  prefer  contrary  to  its  own  prefent  preference,  or 
chufe  contrary  to  its  own  prefent  choice.  The  Will, 
therefore,  fo  long  as  it  is  under  the  influence  of 
an  old  preponderating  inclination,  is  not  at  Li 
berty  for  a  new  free  act,  or  any  act  that  fhall 
now  be  an  act  of  felf-determination.  The  act 
which  is  a  felt-determined  free  act,  muft  be  an. 
act  which  the  will  determines  in  the  pofleflion 
and  ufe  of  fuch  a  Liberty,  as  confifts  in  a  free 
dom  from  every  thing,  which,  if  it  were  there, 
would  make  it  impolfible  that  the  Will,  at  that 
i  time, 


92  Of  Liberty  of  mil          .  Part  II. 

time,  fhould  be  otherwife  than  that  way  to  which 
it  tends. 

If  any  one  fhould  fay,  there  is  no  need  that  the 
Indifference  fhould  be  perfect  •,  but  although  a 
former  inclination  and  preference  ftill  remains,  yet, 
if  it  be  not  very  ftrong  and  violent,  poffibly  the 
itrength  of  the  Will  may  oppofe  and  overcome  it: 
—This  is  grofly  abfurd ;  for  the  flrength  of  the 
Will,  let  it  be  never  fo  great,  does  not  at  all  en 
able  it  to  act  one  way,  and  not  the  contrary  way, 
both  at  the  fame  time.  It  gives  it  no  fuch  fo- 
vereignty  and  command,  as  to  caufe  itfelf  to  pre 
fer  and  not  to  prefer  at  the  fame  time,  or  to  chufe 
contrary  to  its  own  prefent  choice. 

Therefore,  if  there  be  the  leaft  degree  of  ante* 
cedent  preponderation  of  che  Will,  it  mufl  be  per 
fectly  abolifhed,  before  the  Will  can  be  at  liberty 
to  determine  itfelf  the  contrary  way.  And  if 
the  Will  determines  itfelf  the  fame  way,  it  was 
not  a  free  determination^  becaufc  the  Will  is  not 
wholly  at  Liberty  in  fo  doing :  its  determina 
tion  is  not  altogether  from  itfelf \  but  it  was  partly 
determined  before,  in  its  prior  inclination :  and 
all  the  Freedom  the  Will  exercifes  in  the  cafe,  is 
in  an  increafe  of  inclination,  which  it  gives  itfelf, 
over  and  above  what  it  had  by  foregoing  bias ; 
fo  much  is  from  itfelf,  and  fo  much  is  from  per 
fect  Indifference.  For  though  the  Will  had  a 
previous  tendency  that  way,  yet  as  to  that  ad* 
ditional  degree  of  inclination,  it  had  no  tendency. 
Therefore  the  previous  tendency  is  of  no  confi- 
deration,  with  refpect  to  the  act  wherein  the  Will 
is  free-  So  that  it  comes  to  the  fame  thing  which 
was  faid  at  firft,  that  as  to  the  act  of  the  Will, 
wherein  the  Will  is  free,  there  muft  beptrfeft  In- 
ftKtt  or  equilibrium* 

To 


Sect.  VII.       conjifting  in  Indifference.  93 

To  illuftrate  this ;  if  we  fhould  fuppofe  a  fove- 
reign  felf-moving  power  in  a  natural  body :  but 
that  the  body  is  in  motion  already,  by  an  ante 
cedent  bias  :  for  in  (lance,  gravitation  towards  the 
center  of  the  earth ;  and  has  one  degree  of  mo 
tion  already,  by  virtue  of  that  previous  tendency ; 
but  by  its  felf-moving  power  it  adds  one  degree 
more  to  its  motion,  and  moves  fo  much  more 
fwiftly  towards  the  center  of  the  earth  than  it 
would  do  by  its  gravity  only  :  it  is  evident,  that 
all  that  is  owing  to  a  felf-moving  power  in  this 
cafe,  is  the  additional  degree  of  motion  ;  and  that 
the  other  degree  of  motion  which  it  had  from 
gravity,  is  of  no  confideration  in  the  cafe,  does  not 
help  the  effect  of  the  free  felf-moving  power  in 
the  leaft ;  the  effect  is  juft  the  fame,  as  if  the  body 
kad  received  from  itfelf  one  degree  of  motion 
from  a  ftate  of  perfect:  reft.  So  if  we  fhould 
fuppofe  a  felf-moving  power  given  to  the  fcale  of 
a  balance,  which  has  a  weight  of  one  degree  be 
yond  the  oppofite  fcale  -9  and  we  afcribe  to  it  an 
ability  to  add  to  itfelf  another  degree  of  force 
the  fame  way,  by  its  felf-moving  power;  this 
is  juft  the.  fame  thing  as  to  afcribe  to  it  a  power 
to  give  itfelf  one  degree  of  preponderation  from 
a  perfect  equilibrium  ;  and  fo  much  power  as 
the  fcale  has  to  give  itfelf  an  over-balance  from 
a  perfect  equipoife,  fo  much  felf-moving  felf-pre- 
ponderating  power  it  has,  and  no  more.  So  that 
its  free  power  this  way  is  always  to  be  meafured 
from  perfect  equilibrium. 

I  need  fay  no  more  to  prove,  that  if  Indiffe 
rence  be  eiicntial  to  Liberty^  it  muft  be  perfect 
Indifference  ;  and  that  fo  far  as  the  Will  is  defti- 
tute  of  this,  fo  far  it  is  deilitute  of  that  freedom 
by  which  it  is  its  own  mailer,  and  in  a  capacity 
of  breing  its  own  determiner,  without  being  at 

all 


94  Of  Liberty  of  mil  Part  II. 

all  pafiive,  or  fubject  to  the  power  and  fway  of 
fomething  elfe,  in  its  motions  and  determina* 
tions. 

Having  obferved  thefe  things,  let  us  now  try 
whether  this  notion  of  the  Liberty  of  Will  con- 
gifting  in  Indifference  and  equilibrium,  and  the 
Will's  felf-determination  in  fuch  a  ilate  be  not 
abfurd  and  inconfiftent. 

And  here  I  would  lay  down  this  as  an  axiom 
of  undoubted  truth  ;  that  every  free  aft  is  done  in 
a  Jlate  of  freedom,  and  not  only  after  fuch  a  ft  ate. 
If  an  act  of  the  Will  be  an  act  wherein  the  foul 
is  free,  it  mult  be  exerted  in  a  ftate  of  freedom^ 
and  in  the  time  of  freedom.  It  will  not  fuffice,  that 
the  act  immediately  follows  a  ilate  of  Liberty ; 
but  Liberty  muft  yet  continue,  and  co-exift  with 
the  act  -,  the  foul  remaining  in  poiTeffion  of  Li 
berty.  Becaufe  that  is  the  notion  of  a  free  act 
of  the  foul,  even  an  act  wherein  the  foul  ufes  or 
exercifes  Liberty.  But  if  the  foul  is  not,  in  the 
very  time  of  the  act,  in  the  poffeffion  of  Liberty, 
it  cannot. at  that  time  be  in  the  ufe  of  it. 

Now  the  queftion  is,  whether  ever  the  foul  of 
man  puts  forth  an  act  of  Will,  while  it  yet  re 
mains  in  a  ftate  of  Liberty,  in  that  notion  of  a 
ftate  of  Liberty,  viz.  as  implying  a  ftate  of  In 
difference  ;  or  whether  the  foul  ever  exerts  an  act 
of  choice  or  preference,  while  at  that  very  time 
the  Will  is  in  a  perfect  equilibrium,  not  inclining 
one  way  more  than  another.  The  very  putting 
of  the  queftion  is  fufficient  to  mew  the  abfurdity 
of  the  affirmative  anfwer :  for  how  ridiculous 
would  it  be  for  any  body  to  infift,  that  the  foul 
chufes  one  thing  before  another,  when  at  the 
verv  fame  inftant  it  is  perfectly  indifferent  with 

refped 


Sect.  VIL     confijting  in  Indifference.  95. 

refpect  to  each  !    This  is  the  fame  thing  as  to 
lay,  the  foul  prefers  one  thing  to  another,  at  the 

very  fame  time  that  it  has  no  preference. 

Choice  and  preference  can  no  more  be  in  a  ftate 
of  Indifference,  than  motion  can  be  in  a  Hate  of 
reft,  or  than  the  preponderation  of  the  fcale  of  a 
balance  can  be  in  a  Rate  of  equilibrium.  Motion 
may  be  the  next  moment  after  reft ;  but  cannot 
co-exift  with  it,  in  any,  even  the  leaft  part  of  it. 
So  choice  may  be  immediately  after  a  ftate  of  In 
difference,  but  has  no  co-exiftence  with  it :  even 
the  very  beginning  of  it  is  not  in  a  ftate  of  In 
difference.  And  therefore  if  this  be  Liberty,  no 
act  of  the  Will,  in  any  degree,  is  ever  performed 
in  a  ftate  of  Liberty,  or  in  the  time  of  Liberty. 
Volition  and  Liberty  are  fo  far  from  agreeing 
together,  and  being  effential  one  to  another, ' 
that  they  are  contrary  one  to  another,  and  one 
excludes  and  deftroys  the  other,  as  much  as  mo 
tion  and  reft,  light  and  darknefs,  or  life  and 
death.  So  that  the  Will  acts  not  at  all,  does  not 
fo  much  as  begin  to  •  act  in  the  time  of  fuch  Li 
berty  :  freedom  is  perfectly  at  an  end,  and  has 
ceafed  to  be,  at  the  firft  moment  of  action ;  and 
therefore  Liberty  cannot  reach  the  action,  to  af 
fect,  or  qualify  it,  or  give  it  a  denomination,  or 
any  part  of  it,  any  more  than  if  it  had  ceafed  to 
be  twenty  years  before  the  action  began.  The 
moment  that  Liberty  ceafes  to  be,  it  ceafes  to  be  a 
qualification  of  any  thing.  If  light  and  darknefs 
lucceed  one  another  inftantaneoully,  light  quali 
fies  nothing  after  it  is  gone  out,  to -make  any 
thing  lightfome  or  bright,  any  more  at  the  firft 
moment  of  perfect  darknefs,  than  months  or 
years  after.  Life  denominates  nothing  vital  at 
the  firft  moment  of  perfect  death.  So  freedom, 
if  it  confifts  in,  or  implies  Indifference,  can  de 
nominate  nothing  free,  at  the  firft  moment  of 

pre- 


96  Of  Liberty  of  Will  Part  II; 

preference  or  preponderation.  Therefore  it  is 
manifeft,  that  no  Liberty  which  the  foul  is  pof- 
feffcd  of,  or  ever  ufes,  in  any  of  its  acts  of  voli 
tion,  confifts  in  Indifference  ;  and  that  the  opinion 
of  fuch  as  fuppofe,  that  Indifference  belongs  to 
the  very  eflence  of  Liberty,  is  to  the  higheft  de 
gree  abfurd  and  contradictory. 

If  any  one  fhould  imagine,  that  this  manner 
of  arguing  is  nothing  but  a  trick  and  delulion ; 
arid  to  evade  the  reafoning,  fliould  fay,  that  the 
thing  wherein  the  Will  exercifcs  its  Liberty,  is 
not  in  the  act  of  choice  or  preponderation  itfelf, 
but  in  determining  itfdf  to  a  certain  choice  or 
preference  \  that  the  act  of  the  Will  wherein  ic 
is  free,  and  ufes  its  own  fovereignty,  confifts  in 
its  caufing  or  determining  the  change  or  transition 
from  a  ftate  of  Indifference  to  a  certain  prefe 
rence,  or  determining  to  give  a  certain  turn  to 
the  balance,  which  has  hitherto  been  even ;  and 
that  this  act  the  Will  exerts  in  a  ftate  of  Liberty, 
or  while  the  Will  yet  remains  in  equilibrium,  and 
perfect  mafter  of  itfclf. — I  fay,  if  any  one  chufcs 
to  exprefs  his  notion  of  Liberty  after  this,  or  fome 
fuch  manner,  let  us  fee  if  he  can  make  out  his 
matters  any  better  than  before. 

What  is  aflerted  is,  that  the  Will,  while  it  yet 
remains  in  perfect  equilibrium,  without  prefe 
rence,  determines  to  change  itfelf .  from  that  ftate, 
and  excite  in  itfelf  a  certain  choice  or  preference. 
Now  let  us  fee  whether  this  does  not  come  to  the 
fame  ablurdity  we  had  before.  If  it  be  fo,  that 
the  Will,  while  it  yet  remains  perfectly  indifferent, 
determines  to  put  itfelf  out  of  that  ftate,  and 
give  itfelf  a  certain  preponderation  -9  then  I 
would  enquire,  whether  the  foul  does  not  deter 
mine  this  of  choice  ;  or  whether  the  Will's  coming 
to  a  determination  to  do  fo>  be  n  ot  the  fame  thing 

as 


3c6t.  VII.  '  confining  in  Indifference,  97 

as  the  fouPs  coming  to  a  .choice  to  do  fo.  If  the 
ibul  does  not  determine  this  of  choice,  or  in  the 
exercifc  of  choice,  then  it  does  not  determine  it 
voluntarily.  And  if  the  foul  does  not  determine 
it  voluntarily,  or  of  its  own  willy  then  in  what 
fenfe  does  its  will  determine  it  ?  And  if  the  will 
does  not  determine  it,  then  how  is  the  Liberty  of  the 
Will  exercifed  in  the  determination  ?  What  fort 
of  Liberty  is  exercifed  by  the  foul  in  thofe  deter 
minations,  wherein  there  is  no  exercife  of  choice, 
which  are  not  voluntary,  and  wherein  the  will  is 
not  concerned  ? — But  if  it  be  allowed,  that  this 
determination  is  an  ad  of  choice,  and  it  be  in- 
fifted  on,  that  the  foul,  while  it  yet  remains  in  a 
ftate  of  perfect  Indifference,  chufes  to  put  itfelf 
out  of  that  ftate,  and  to  turn  itfelf  one  way  ; 
then  the  foul  is  already  come  to  a  choice,  and 
chufes  that  way.  And  fo  we  have  the  very  fame 
abfurdity  which  we  had  before.  Here  is  the 
foul  in  a  ftate  of  choice,  and  in  a  ftate  of  equi- 
librium,  both  at  the  fame  time :  the  foul  alrea 
dy  chufing  one  way,  while  it  remains  in  a  ftate 
of  perfect  Indifference,  and  has  no  choice  of  one. 
way  more  than  the  other.  —  And  indeed  this 
manner  of  talking,  though  it  may  a  little  hide  the 
abfurdity,  in  the  obfcurity  of  exprefiion,  is  more 
nonfenfical,  and  increafes  the  inconfiftence.  To 
fay,  the  free  act  of  the  will,  or  the  act  which 
the  will  exerts  in  a  ftate  of  freedom  and  Indiffe 
rence,  does  not  imply  preference  in  it,  but  is  what 
the  will  does  in  order  to  caufing  or  producing  a 
preference,  is  as  much  as  to  fay,  the  foul  chufes 
(for  to  will  and  to  chufe  are  the  fame  thing) 
without  choice,  and  prefers-  without  preference, 
in  order  to  caufe  or  produce  the  beginning  of  a 
preference,  or  the  firft  choice.  And  that  is,  that 
the  firft  choice  is  exerted  without  choice,  in  order 
to  produce  itfelf. 

H  tf 


98  Of  Liberty's  lying  in  a  Power    Part  IL 

If  any,  to  evade  thefe  things,  ihould  own,  that 
a  ftate  of  Liberty,  and  a  ftate  of  Indifference  are 
not  the  fame,  and  that  the  former  may  be  without 
the  latter  ;  but  fhould  fay,  that  Indifference  is  ftill 
effential  to  the  freedom  of  an  act  of  will,  in  fome 
fort,  namely,  as  it  is  neceffary  to  go  immediately 
before  it ;  it  being  elfential  to  the  freedom  of  an 
act  of  will  that  it  mould  directly  and  immediately 
arife  out  of  a  ftate  of  Indifference  :  ftill  this  will 
not  help  the  caufe  of  Arminian  Liberty,  or  make 
it  confident  with  itfelf.  For  if  the  act  fprings 
immediately  out  of  a  ftate  of  Indifference,  then  it 
does  not  arife  from  antecedent  choice  or  preference. 
But  if  the  act  arifes  directly  out  of  a  ftate  of  In 
difference,  without  any  intervening  choice  to 
chufe  and  determine  it,  then  the  act  not  being 
determined  by  choice,  is  not  determined  by  the 
will-,  the  mind  exercifes  no  free  choice  in  the 
affair,  and  free  choice  and  free  will  have  no  hand 
in  the  determination  of  the  act.  Which  is  en 
tirely  inconfiftent  with  their  notion  of  the  free 
dom  of  Volition. 

If  any  fhould  fuppofe,  that  thefe  difficulties 
and  abfurdities  may  be  avoided,  by  faying,  that 
the  Liberty  of  the  mind  confifts  in  a  power  to 
jufptnd  the  act  of  the  will,  and  fo  to  keep  it  in  a 
ftate  of  Indifference,  until  there  has  been  oppor 
tunity  for  confideration  •,  and  fo  ihall  fay,  that 
however  Indifference  is  not  effential  to  Liberty  in 
fuch  a  manner,  that  the  mind  muft  make  its 
choice  in  a  ftate  of  Indifference,  which  is  an  in- 
confiftency,  or  that  the  act  of  will  muft  fpring 
immediately  out  of  Indifference-,  yet  Indifference 
may  be  effential  to  the  Liberty  of  acts  of  the  will 
in  this  refpect  *,  viz.  That  Liberty  confifts  in  a 
J  ower  of  the  mind  to  forbear  or  fufpend  the  act 
of  Volition,  and  keep  the  mind  in  a  ftate  of  In- 

differcnc? 


Sect.  VII.          to  fufpend  Volition.  99 

difference  for  the  prefent,  until  there  has  been  op 
portunity  for  proper  deliberation :  I  fay,  if  any 
one  imagines  that  this  helps  the  matter,  it  is  a 
great  miitake:  it  reconciles  no  inconiiftency,  and 
relieves  no  difficulty  which  the  affair  is  attended 
with.— For  here  the  following  things  muft  be 
Obferved, 

1.  That  this  fufpending  of  Volition,  if  there  be 
properly  any  fuch  thing,  is  itfelf  an  act  of  Vo 
lition.     If  the  mind  determines   to  fufpend  its 
act,  it  determines  it  voluntarily,  it  chufes,  on 
fome   confideration,   to  fufpend   it.      And   this 
choice   or  determination,   is  an  act  of  the  will : 
And  indeed  it  is  fuppofed  to  be  fo  in  the  very 
hypothefis ;  for  it.  is  fuppofed  that  the  Liberty 
of  the  "mil  confifts  in  its  Power  to  do  this,  and 
that  its  doing  it  is  the  very  thing  wherein  the 
will  exercifes  its  Liberty.     But  how  can  the  will 
exercife  Liberty  in  it,  if  it  be  not  an  act  of  the 
will  ?  The  Liberty  of  the  will  is  not  exercifed  in 
any  thing  but  what  the  will  does. 

2.  This  determining  to  fufpend  acting  is  not 
only  an  act  of  the  will,  but  it  is  fuppofed  to  be 
the  only  free  act  of  the  will ;  becaufe  it  is  faid, 
that  this  is  the  thing  wherein  the  Liberty  of  the  will 
con/ijls. — Now  if  this  be  fo,  then  this  is  all  the 
act  of  will  that  we  have  to  coniider  in  this  con- 
troverfy,  about  the  Liberty  of  will,  and  in  our 
enquiries,  wherein  the  Liberty  of  man  confifts. 
And  now  the  forementioned  difficulties  remain  : 
the  former  queftion  returns  upon  us;  viz.  Where 
in  confifts  the  freedom  of  the  will  in  thofe  afts 
wherein  it  is  free  ?  And  if  this  act  of  determin 
ing  a  fufpeniion  be  the  only  act  in  which  the 
will   is   free,    then   wherein   confifts   the  will's 
freedom  with  refpect  to  this  act  of  fufpenfion  ? 

Hz  And 


loo  Of  fufpending  Volition.  Part  H. 

And  how  is  Indifference  effential  to  this  act  ?  The 
anfwer  muft  be,  according  to  what  is  fuppofed  in 
the  evalion  under  confideration,  that  the  Liberty 
of  the  will  in  this  act  of  fufpenfion,  confifts  in  a 
Power  to  fufpend  even  this  act,  until  there  has 
been  opportunity  for  thorough  deliberation.  But 
this  will  be  to  plunge  directly  into  the  grolfeft  non- 
fenfe  :  for  it  is  the  act  of  fufpenfion  itfelf  that  we 
are  fpeaking  of;  and  there  is  no  room  for  a  fpace 
of  deliberation  and  fufpenfion  in  order  to  deter 
mine  whether  we  will  fufpend  or  no.  For  that 
fuppofes,  that  even  fufpenfion  itfelf  may  be  de 
ferred  :  which  is  abfurd  ;  for  the  very  deferring 
the  determination  of  fufpenfion,  to  confider  whe 
ther  we  will  fufpend  or  no,  will  be  actually  fuf 
pending.  For  during  the  fpace  of  fufpenfion, 
to  confider  whether  to  fufpend,  the  act  is  ipfo 
fafto  fufpended.  There  is  no  medium  between 
fufpending  to  act,  and  immediately  acting ;  and 
therefore  no  poffibilily  of  avoiding  either  the  one 
or  the  other  one  moment. 

And  befides,  this  is  attended  with  ridiculous 
abfufdity  another  way :  for  now  it  is  come  to  that, 
that  Liberty  confifts  wholly  in  the  mind's  hav 
ing  Power  to  fufpend  its  determination  whether 
to  fufpend  or  no;  that  there  may  be  time  for 
confideration,  whether  it  be  beft  to  fufpend.  And 
if  Liberty  confifts  in  this  only,  then  this  is  the  Li 
berty  under  confideration :  we  have  to  enquire 
now,  how  Liberty  with  refpect  to  this  act  of 
fufpending  a  determination  of  fufpenfion,  confifts 
in  Indifference,  or  how  Indifference  is,  effential  to 
it.  The  anfwer,  according  to  the  hypothefis 
we  are  upon,  muft  be,  that  it  confifts  in  a  Power 
of  fufpending  even  this  laft-mentioned  act^  to 
have  time  to  confider  whether  to  fufpend  that* 
And  then  the  fame  difficulties  and  enquiries 

return 


Sect.  Vll.      Of  fufpending  Volition.  101 

return  over  again  with  refpect  to  that •,  and  fo  on 
for  ever.  Which,  if  it  would  ihew  any  thing, 
would  Ihew  only  that  there  is  no  fuch  thing  as  a 
free  act.  It  drives  the  exercife  of  freedom  back 
in  infinitum  °,  and  that  is  to  drive  it  out  of  the 
world. 

And  befides  all  this,  there  is  a  Delufion,  and  a 
latent  grofs  contradiction  in  the  affair  another 
way  •,  in  as  much  as  in  explaining  how,  or  in 
what  refpect  the  will  is  free  with  regard  to  a 
particular  act  of  Volition,  it  is  faid,  that  its' Li 
berty  confifts  in  a  Power  to  determine  to  fufpend 
that  aft,  which  places  Liberty  not  in  that  aft  of 
Volition  which  the  enquiry  is  about,  but  alto 
gether  in  another  antecedent  act.  Which  contra 
dicts  the  thing  fuppofed  in  both  the  queftion 
and  anfvver.  The  queftion.  is,  wherein  confifts 
the  mind's  Liberty  in  any  particular  aft  of  Voli 
tion  ?  And  the  anfwer,  in  pretending  to  Ihew 
wherein  lies  the  miners  Liberty  in  that  aft,  in  ef 
fect  fays,  it  does  not  lie  in  that  act  at  all,  but  in 
another,  viz.  a  Volition  to  fufpend  that  aft.  And 
therefore  the  anfwer  is  both  contradictory,  and  al 
together  impertinent  and  befide  the  purpofe.  For 
it  does  not  ihew  wherein  the  Liberty  of  the  will 
confifts  in  the  act  in  queftion  ;  inftead  of  that,  it 
fuppofes  it  does  not  confift  in  that  act  at  all,  but 
in  another  diftinct  from  it,  even  a  Volition  to  fnf- 
pend  that  act,  and  take  time  to  confider  of  it. 
And  no  account  is  pretended  to  be  given  wherein 
the  mind  is  free  with  refpect  to  that  act,  wherein 
this  anfwer  fuppofes  the  Liberty  of  the  mind  in 
deed  confifts,  viz.  the  act  of  fufpenfion,  or  of  de 
termining  the  fulpenfion. 

On  the  whole,  it  is  exceeding  manifeft,  that  the 

Liberty  of  the  mind  does  not  confift  in  Indiffe- 

H  3  rence, 


102          Of  Liberty  without  Neceflity.       Part  II. 

rence,  and  that  Indifference  is  not  eflential  or  ne- 
ceffary  to  it,  or  at  all  belonging  to  it,  as  the  Ar- 
winians  fuppofe  •,  that  opinion  being  full  of  no 
thing  but  abfurdity  and  felf-contradidtion. 

SECTION     VIII. 

Concerning  tie  fuppofed  Liberty  of  the  Will,  as  op- 
foftte  to  all  Neceflity. 

IT  is  a  thing  chiefly  inflfted  on  by  Arminmns^ 
in  this  controverfy,  as  a  thing  moll  impor 
tant  and  eficntial  in  human  Liberty,  that  voli 
tions,  or  the  acts  of  the  will,  are  contingent 
events  ;  underflanding  contingence  as  op  polite, 
not  only  to  conftraint,  but  to  all  Neceflity.  There 
fore  I  \Vould  particularly  confider  this  matter. 
And 

1.  I  would  enquire,  whether  there  is,  or  can 
be  any  fuch  thing,  as  a  volition  which  is  contin 
gent  in  fuch  a  fenfe,  as  not  only  to  come  to  pals 
without  any  Neceflity  of  conflraint  or  co-a£tion, 
but  alfo  without  a  Neceffity  of  confequence^  or  an  in 
fallible  connection  with  any  thing  foregoing. 

2.  Whether,  if  it  were  fo,  this  would  at  all 
help  the  caufe  of  Liberty. 

I.  I  would  confider  whether  volition  is  a  thing 
that  ever  does,  or  can  come  to  pafs,  in  this  man 
ner,  contingently. 

And  here  it  mufl  be  remembered,  that  it  has 
been  already  fhewn,  that  nothing  can  ever  come 
to  pafs  without  a  caufe,  or  reafon  why  it  exiits 
in  this  manner  rather  than  another ;  and  the  evi 
dence  of  this  has  been  particularly  applied  to  the 

acts 


Sect.  VIII.     Of  tbe  fuppofed  Libert^  Sec.         103 

acts  of  the  will.  Now  if  this  be  fo,  it  will  de- 
monftrably  follow,  that  the  acts  of  the  will  are 
never  contingent,  or  without  Neceflity  in  the 
fenfe  fpoken  of;  in  as  much  as  tho'fe  things 
which  have  a  caufe,  or  reafon  of  their  exiftence, 
muft  be  connected  with  their  caufe.  This  ap 
pears  by  the  following  confiderarions. 

i.  For  an  event  to  have  a  caufe  and  ground 
of  its  exiftence,  and  yet  not  to  be  connected  with 
its  caufe,  is  an  inconfiftence,  For  if  the  event 
be  not  connected  with  the  caufe,  it  is  not  depen 
dent  on  the  caufe ;  its  exiftence  is  as  it  were1 
loofe  from  its  influence,  and  may  attend  it,  or 
may  not ;  it  being  a  meer  contingence,  whether 
it  follows-  or  attends  the  influence  of  the  caufe,  or 
not ;  And  that  is  die  fame  thing  as  not  to  be 
dependent  on  it.  And  to  fay,  the  event  is  not 
dependent  on  its  caufe,  is  abfurd :  It  is  the  fame 
thing  as  to  fay,  it  is  not  its  caufe,  nor  the  event 
the  effect  of  it:  For  dependence  on  the  influ 
ence  of  a  caufe  is  the  very  notion  of  an  effect. 
If  there  be  no  fuch  relation  between  one  thing 
and  another,  confiding  in  the  connection  and  de 
pendence  of  one  thing  on  the;  influence  of  ano 
ther,  then  it  is  certain  there  is  no  fuch  relation 
between  them  as  is  fignified  by  the  terms  caufe 
and  ejfoft.  So  far  as  an  event  is  dependent  on  a 
caufe  and  connected  with  it,  fo  much  caufality 
is  there  in  the  cafe,  and  no  more.  The  caufe 
does,  or  brings  to  pafs  no  more  "in  any  event, 
than  is  dependent  on  it.  If  we  fay,  the  connec 
tion  and  dependence  is  not  total,  but  partial,  and 
that  the  effect,  though  it  has  fome  connection  and 
dependence,  yet  is  not  entirely  dependent  on  it; 
that  is  the  fame  thing  as  to  fay,  that  not  all  that 
is  in  the  event  is  an  effect  of  that  caufe,  but  that 
H  4  only 


104  Of  the  fuppofed  Liberty        Part  II. 

only  part  of  it  arifes  from  thence,  and  part  fome 
other  way. 

2.  If  there  are  fome  events  which  are  not  ne- 
cefTarily  conne&ed  with  their  caufes,  then  it  will 
follow,  that  there  are  fome  things  which  come 
to  pafs  without  any  caufe,  contrary  to  the  fup- 
pofition.  For  if  there  be  any  event  which  was 
not  neceflarily  connected  with  the  influence  of  the 
caufe  under  fuch  circumftances,  then  it  was  con 
tingent  whether  it  would  attend  or  follow  the  in 
fluence  of  the  caufe,  or  no ;  it  might  have  fol 
lowed,  and  it  might  not,  when  the  caufe  was  the 
fame,  its  influence  the  fame,  and  under  the  fame 
circumftanees.  And  if  fo,  why  did  it  follow,  ra 
ther  than  not  follow  ?  There  is  no  caufe  or  rea- 
fon  of  this.  Therefore  here  is  fomething  without 
any  caufe  or  reafon  why  it  is,  viz.  the  following 
of  the  effect  on  the  influence  of  the  caufe,  with 
which  it  was  not  neceffarily  connected.  If  there 
be  a  neceflfary  connection  of  the  effect  on  any 
thing  antecedent,  then  we  may  fuppofe  that 
fometimes  the  event  will  follow  the  caufe,  and 
fometimes  not,  when  the  caufe  is  the  fame,  and 
in  every  refpect  in  the  fame  ftate  and  circunv 
fiances.  And  what  can  be  the  caufe  and  reafon 
of  this  flrange  phenomenon,  even  this  diverfiry, 
that  in  one  inftance,  the  effect  fhould  follow,  in 
another  not  ?  It  is  evident  by  the  fuppofition, 
that  this  is  wholly  without  any  caufe  or  ground. 
Here  is  fomething  in  the  prefent  mariner  of  the 
exiftence  of  things,  and  ftate  of  the  world,  that 
is  abfolutely  without  a  caufe.  Which  is  contrary 
to  the  fuppofition,  and  contrary  to  what  has  been 
before  demonilrated. 

3.-  To  fuppofe  there  are  fome  events  which 
a  caufe  and  ground  of  their  exiftence,  that 

yet 


Sect.  VIII.         without  all  Neceflity.  105 

yet  arc  not  neceffarily  conne&ed  with  their  caufe 
is  to  fuppofe  that  they  have  a  caufe  which  is  not 
their  caufe.  Thus ;  if  the  effect  be  not  necef- 
farily  connected  with  the  caufe,  v/ith  its  influ 
ence,  and  influential  circumftances  •,  then,  as  I 
obfcrved  before,  it  is  a  thing  poffible  and  fup- 
pofable,  that  the  caufe  may  fometimes  exert  the 
fame  influence,  under  the  fame  circumftances, 
and  yet  the  effect  not  follow.  And  if  this  ac 
tually  happens  in  any  inflance,  this  inftance  is  a 
proof,  in  fact,  that  the  influence  of  the  caufe  is 
not  fufficient  to  produce  the  effect.  For  if  it  had 
been  fufficient,  it  would  have  done  it.  And  yet, 
by  the  fuppofition,  in  another  inftance,  the  fame 
caufe,  with  perfectly  the  fame  influence,  and  when 
all  circumftances  which  have  any  influence,  are 
the  fame,  it  was  followed  with  the  effect.  By 
which  it  is  manifeft,  that  the  effect  in  this  laft 
inftance  was  not  owing  to  the  influence  of  the 
caufe,  but  muft  come  to  pafs  fome  other  way. 
For  it  was  proved  before,  that  the  influence  of 
the  caufe  was  not  fufHcient  to  produce  the  effect. 
And  if  it  was  not  fufficient  to  produce  it,  then  the 
production  of  it  could  not  be  owing  to  that  in 
fluence,  but  muft  be  owing  to  fomething  elfe,  or 
owing  to  nothing.  And  if  the  effect  be  not 
owing  to  the  influence  of  the  caufe,  then  it  is 
not  the  caufe.  Which  brings  us  to  the  contra 
diction,  of  a  caufe,  and  no  caufe,  that  which  is 
the  ground  and  reafon  of  the  exiftence  of  a 
thing,  and  at  the  fame  time  is  not  the  ground 
and  reafon  of  its  exiftence,  nor  is  fufficient  to 
be  fo. 

If  the  matter  be  not  already  fo  plain  as  to  ren 
der  any  further  reafoning  upon  it  impertinent,  I 
would  fay,  that  that  which  feems  to  be  the  caufe 
in  the  fuppofed  cafe,  can  be  no  caufe ;  its  power 

and 


7  06  Of  tie  fuppcfed  Liberty  i  &c.       Part  II. 

and  influence  having,  on  a  full  trial,  proved  in- 
iufncient  to  produce  fuch  an  effect :  and  if  it  be 
not  fufficient  to  produce  it,  then  it  does  not  pro 
duce  it.  To  fay  otherwife,  is  to  fay,  there  is  pow 
er  to  do  that  which  there  is  not  power  to  do.  If 
there  be  in  a  caufe  fufficient  power  exerted,  and 
in  circumftances  fufficient  to  produce  an  effect, 
and  fo  the  effect  be  actually  produced  at  one  time  -y 
thefc  things  all  concurring,  will  produce  the 
effect  at  all  times.  And  fo  we  may  turn  it  the 
other  way  j  that  which  proves  not  fufficient  at 
one  time,  cannot  be  fufficient  at  another,  with 
precifely  the  fame  influential  circumftances.  And 
therefore  if  the  effect  follows,  it  is  not  owing  to 
that  caufe  ;  unlefs  the  different  time  be  a  eir^ 
curnftance  which  has  influence :  but  that  is  con 
trary  to  the  fuppofition  ;  for  it  is  fuppofed  that  all 
circumftances  that  have  influence,  are  the  fame. 
And  bcfides,  this  would  be  to  fuppofe  the  time 
to  be  the  caufe ;  which  is  contrary  to  the  lup- 
pofition  of  the  other  thing's  being  the  caufe. 
But  if  meerly  diverfity  of  time. has  no  influence, . 
ihen  it  is  evident  that  it  is  as  rrm^i  of  an  abiur- 
dity  to  fay,  the  caufe  was  fufficient*  to  produce  the 
effect  at  one  time,  and  not  at  a^bther ;  as  to  lay, 
that  it  is  fufficient  to  produce  .the  effect  at  a  cer 
tain  time,  and  yet  not  jufficient  to  produce  the 
ume  effect  at  the  fame  time. 

On  the  whole,  it  is  clearly  manifeft,  that  every 
effect  has  a  neccffary  connection  with  its  caufe, 
or  with  that  which  is  the  true  ground  and  rea- 
ibn  of  its  exigence.  And  therefore  if  there  be 
no  event  without  a  caufe,  as  was  proved  before, 
then  no  event  whatfoever  is  contingent  in  the 
manner,  that  Armenians  fuppofe  the  tree  acts  of 
the  will  to  be  contingent. 

SECTION 


SECTION     IX. 

Of  the  Cpnnedion  of  the  Afts  of  the  Will  with  the 
of  the  Underftanding. 


IT  is  manifeft,  that  the  Adls  of  the  Will  are 
none  of  them  contingent  in  fuch  a  fenfe  as  to 
be  without  all  neceflity,  or  fo  as  not  to  be  necef- 
fary  with  a  neceflity  of  confequence  and  Con- 
nee!  ion  ;  becaufe  every  Adi  of  the  Will  is  fome 
way  connected  with  the  Underftanding,  and  is  as 
the  greateft  apparent  good  is,  in  the  manner 
which  has  already  been  explained  ;  namely,  that 
the  foul  always  wills  or  chufes  that  which,  in  the 
prefent  view  of  the  mind,  coniidered  in  the  whole 
of  that  view,  and  all  that  belongs  to  it,  appears 
mpft.  agreable.  Becaufe,  as  was  obferved  before, 
nothing  is  more  evident  than  that,  when  men  a6t 
voluntarily,  and  do  what  they  pleafe,  then  they 
do  what  appeals  fnoft  agreable  to  them  ;  and  to 
fay  otherwife,  would  be  as  much  as  to  affirm,  that 
men  do  not  chufe  what  appears  to  fuit  them  beft, 
or  what  feems  moft  pleafing  to  them  ;  or  that 
they  do  not  chufe  what  they  prefer.  Which 
brings  the  matter  to  a  contradiction. 

And  it  is  very  evident  in  itfelf,  that  the  Acts  of 
the  Will  have  fome  Connection  with  the  dictates 
or  views  of  the  Underftanding,  fo  this  is  allowed 
by  fome  of  the  chief  of  the  Arminian  writers  : 
particularly  by  Dr.  Whitby  and  Dr.  Samuel  Clark. 
Dr.  Tumbull,  though  a  great  enemy  to  the  doc 
trine  of  neceflity,  allows  the  fame  thing.  In  his 
Chriftlan  Pbilofophy,  (p.  196.)  he  with  much  ap 
probation  cites  another  philofopher,  as  of  the  fame 
mind,  in  thefe  words  :  "  No  man,  (fays  an  ex- 

"  cellent 


io8  Of  the  Connexion  of  the  Will  Part  II. 
"  cellcnt  philofopher)  fets  himfelf  about  any 
"  thing,  but  upon  fome  view  or  other,  which 
"  ferves  him  for  a  rcafon  for  what  he  does  5  and 
"  whatfoever  faculties  he  employs,  the  Under- 
"  landing,  with  fuch  light  as  it  has,  well  or  ill 
"  formed,  conftantly  leads  ;  and  by  that  light, 
"  true  or  falfe,  all  her  operative  powers  are  di- 
"  reded.  The  Will  itfelf,  how  abfolute  and  in- 
•*'  controulable  foever  it  may  be  thought,  never 
"  fails  in  its  obedience  to  the  dictates  of  the 
"  Underftanding.  Temples  have  their  facred 
"  images  ;  and  we  fee  what  influence  they  have 
•"  always  had  over  a  great  part  of  mankind  ;  but 
"  in  truth,  the  ideas  and  images  in  men's  minds 
"  are  the  invifible  powers  that  conftantly  govern 
"  them  ;  and  to  thefe  they  all  pay  univerfally  a 
<c  ready  fubmiflion." 

But  whether  this  be  in  a  jufl  confidence  with 
themfelves,  and  their  own  notions  of  liberty,  I 
defire  may  now  be  impartially  confidered. 

Dr.  Whhly  plainly  fuppofes,  that  the  Acts  and 
Determinations  of  the  Will  always  follow  the  Un- 
derftanding's  apprehenfion  or  view  of  the  greateft 
good  to  be  obtained,  or  evil  to  be  avoided ; 
or,  in  other  words,  that  the  Determinations  of 
the  Will  conftantly  and  infallibly  follow  thefe  two 
things  in  the  Underftanding:  i.  The  degree  of 
good  to  be  obtained,  and  evil  to  be  avoided,  pro- 
pofed  to  the  Underftanding,  and  apprehended, 
viewed,  and  taken  notice  or  by  it.  2.  The  de 
gree  of  the  Under/landing's  view,  notice  or  appre 
henfion  of  that  good  or  evil ;  which  is-  increafed 
by  attention  and  confideration.  That  this  is  an 
opinion  he  is  exceeding  peremptory  in  (as  he  is 
in  every  opinion  which  he  maintains  in  his  con- 
troverfy  Avith  the  Calvinijls)  with  difdam  of  the 
contrary  opinion,  as  'abfurd  and  fclf-contradictory, 

will 


Sect.  IX.        with  the  Underftanding.  109 

will  appear  by  the  following  words  of  his,  in  his 
Difconrfe  on  the  Five  Points  *. 

"  Now,  it  is  certain,  that  what  naturally  makes 
"  the  Underftanding  to  perceive,  is  evidence 
"  propofed,  and  apprehended,  confidered  or  ad- 
"  verted  to :  for  nothing  elfe  can  be  requifite  to 
"  make  us  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth. 
"  Again,  what  makes  the  Will  chufe,  is  fome- 
"  thing  approved  by  the  Underftanding  ^  and 
"  confequently  appearing  to  the  foul  as  good. 
"  And  whatfoever  it  refufe th,  is  fomething  re- 
"  prefented  by  the  Underftanding,  and  fo  appear- 
<c  ing  to  the  Will,  as  evil.  Whence  all  that  God 
*c  requires  of  us  is  and  can  be  only  this ;  to  re- 
**  fufe  the  evil,  and  chufe  the  good.  Where- 
"  fore,  to  fay  that  evidence  propofed,  apprehend- 
"  ed  and  confidered,  is  not  fufficient  to  make  the 
"  Underftanding  approve ;  or  that  the  greateft 
"  good  propofed,  the  greateft  evil  threatened, 
"  when  equally  believed  and  reflected  on,  is 
u  not  fufficient  to  engage  the  Will  to  chufe  the 
"  good  and  refufe  the  evil,  is  in  effect  to  fay, 
"  that  which  alone  doth  move  the  IVill  to  chufe  or  to 
"  refufe,  is  not  fufficient  to  engage  it  fo  to  do  ; 
"  which  being  contradictory  to  itfelf,  muft  of 
<c  neceflity  be  falfe.  Be  it  then  fo,  that  we  na- 
"  turally  have  an  averfion  to  the  truths  pro- 
"  pofed  to  us  in  the  Gofpel ;  that  only  can  make 
"  us  indifpofed  to  attend  to  them,  but  cannot 
<c  hinder  our  conviction,  when  we  do  apprehend 
"  them,  and  attend  to  them. — Be  it,  that  there  is 
"  in  us  alfo  a  renitency  to  the  good  we  are  to 
<c  chufe ;  that  only  can  indifpofe  us  to  believe  it 
"  is,  and  to  approve  it  as  our  chiefeft  good.  Be 
"  it,  that  we  are  prone  to  the  evil  that  we  fhould 
K  decline ;  that  only  can  render  it  the  more  diffi- 

*  Second  Edit.  p.  211,  212,  213. 

"  cult 


no  Of  the  Con ne&ion  of  the  Will    Part  II. 

"  cult  for  us  to  believe  it  is  the  worft  of  evils. 
"  But  yet,  what  we  do  really  believe  to  be  our  chief  eft 
"  good)  willjlill  be  chofen  -9  and  what  we  apprehend 
"  to  be  the  ivorjl  of  evils,  willy  whiljl  we  do  continue 
"  under  that  conviction,  be  refufed  by  us.  It  there- 
"  fore  can  be  only  requifite,  in  order  to  thefe  ends, 
"  that  the  Good  Spirit  Ihould  fo  illuminate  our 
*'  Underilandings,  that  we  attending  to,  and  con- 
"  fidering  what  lies  before  us,  fhould  apprehend, 
"  and  be  convinced  of  our  duty ;  and  that  the 
"  bleffmgs  of  the  Gofpe)  ihould  be  fo  propounded 
"  to  us,  as  that  we  may  difcern  them  to  be  our 
"  chiefeft  good ;  and  the  miferies  it  threateneth, 
"  fo  as  we  may  be  convinced  that  they  are  the 
<c  worft  of  evils ;  that:  wre  may  chufe  the  one, 
"  and  refufe  the  other." 

Here  let  it  be  obferved,  how  plainly  and  peremp 
torily  it  is  afferted,  that  the  greateft  good  prcpofed, 
and  the  greateft  evil  threatened,  when  equally  believed 
and  reflected  on,  is  fufficient  to  engage  the  Will  to  chufe 
the  good,  and  refufe  the  evil,  and  is  that  alone  which 
doth  move  the  Will  to  chuf:  or  to  refufe^  and  that  it 
is  contradictory  to  itfelf,  to  fuppofe  otherwife ;  and 
therefore  muft  of  necejjity  be  falfe  ;  and  then  what  ive 
do  really  believe  to  be  our  chief  eft  good  willftill  be  cho- 
fen,  and  what  ive  apprehend  to  be  the  worft  of  evils, 
will,  whilft  we  continue  under  that  conviction,  be  re 
fufed  by  us.  N6thing  could  have  been  faid  more  to 
the  purpoie,  fully  to  iignify  and  declare,  that  the 
determinations  of  the  Will  muft  evermore  follow 
the  illumination,  convicYion  and  notice  of  the 
Underitanding,  wirh  regard  to  the  greateft  good 
and  evil  propofed,  reckoning  both  the 'degree  of 
good  and  evil  underftood,  and  the  degree  of 
Underftanding,  notice  and  conviction  of  that 
propoled  good  and  evil  •,  and  that  it  is  thus  ne- 
ceffarily,  and  can  be  otherwife  in  no  inftance  : 

becaufe 


«Sect*  IK»       with  the  Underftanding,,  m 

bccaufe  it  is  afierted,  that  it  implies  a  contradic 
tion,  to  fuppofe  it  ever  to  be  otherwife. 

I  am  fenfible,  the  Doctor's  aim  in  theie  after- 
tions  is  againft  the  Calvinifts',  to  fhew,  in  oppo- 
fition  to  them,  that  there  is  no  need  of  any  phy- 
fical  operation  of  the  Spirit  of  God  on  the  Will, 
to  change  and  determine  that  to  a  good  choice, 
but  that  God's  operation  and  alHilance  is  only 
moral,  fuggefting  ideas  to  the  Underftanding  *r 
which  he  (iippofes  to  be  enough,  if  thofe  ideas 
are  attended  to,  infallibly  to  obtain  the  end,  Bui 
whatever  his  defign  was,  nothing  can  more  di 
rectly  and  fully  prove,  that  every  determination 
of  the  Will,  in  chufing  and  refufmg,  is  neceffary ; 
directly  contrary  to  his  own  notion  of  the  liberty 
of  the  Will.  For  if  the  determination  of  the  Will, 
evermore,  in  this  manner,  follows  the  light, 
conviction  and  view  of  the  Underftanding,  con 
cerning  the  greateft  good  and  evil,  and  this  be 
that  alone  which  moves  the  Will,  and  it  be  a 
contradiction  to  fuppofe  otherwife  -,  then  it  is  m- 
ceflarily  fo,  the  Will  neceffarily  follows  this  light 
or  view  of  the  Underftanding,  not  only  in  fome 
of  its  acts,  but  in  every  act  of  chufing  and  re 
fufmg.  So  that  the  Will  does  not  determine  itleif 
in  any  one  of  its  own  acts ;  but  all  its  acts, 
every  act  of  choice  and  refufai  depends  on,  and 
is  neceffarily  connected  with  fome  antecedent 
caufe ;  which  caufe  is  not  the  Will  itfelf,  nor 
any  act  of  its  own,  nor  any  thing  pertaining  to 
that  faculty,  but  fomething  belonging  to  another 
faculty,  whofe  acts  go  before  the  Will,  in  all  its 
acts,  and  govern  and  determine  them  every  one. 

Here,  if  it  fhould  be  replied,  that  although  it 
be  true,  that  according  to  the  Doctor,  the  final 
determination  of  the  Will  always  depends  upon, 
and  is  infallibly  connected  with  the  Underftand- 


ing's 


ii2          Of  the  Connexion  of  the  Will     Part  II, 

ing's  conviftion,  and  notice  of  the  greateft  good  ; 
yet  the  Acts  of  the  Will  are  not  neceflary ;  be- 
caufe  that  conviction  and  notice  of  the  Underftand- 
ing  is  firft  dependent  on  a  preceding  Act  of  the 
Will,  in  determining  to  attend  to,  and  take  notice 
of  the  evidence  exhibited  ;  .by  which  means  the 
mind  obtains  that  degree  of  conviction,  which  is 
fufficient  and  effectual  to  determine  the  confequent 
and  ultimate  choice  of  the  Will ;  and  that  the 
Will  with  regard  to  that  preceding  act,  whereby 
it  determines  whether  to  attend  or  no,  is  not  ne 
ceflary  ;  and  that  in  this,  the  liberty  of  the  Will 
confiits,  that  when  God  holds  forth  fufficient  ob 
jective  light,  the  Will  is  at  liberty  whether  to 
command  the  attention  of  the  mind  to  it. 

Nothing  can  be  more  weak  and  inconliderate 
than  fuch  a  reply  as  this.     For  that  preceding 
Act  of  the  Will,   in  determining  to  attend  and 
confider,  Hill  is  an  Aft  of  tbe  Will  (it  is  fo  to  be 
lure,  if  the  liberty  of  the  Will  confifts  in  it,  as  is 
fuppofed)  and  if  it  be  an  Act  of  the  Will,  it  is  an 
act  of  choice  or  refufaL     And  therefore,  if  what 
the  Doctor  aflerts  be  true,  it  is  determined  by  fomc 
antecedent  light  in  the  Underftanding  concern 
ing  the  greateft  apparent  good  or  evil.     For  he 
aflerts,  it  is  that  light  which  alone  doth  move  the 
Will  to  cbufe  or  refufe.     And  therefore  the  Will 
mult  be  moved  by  that  in  chufing  to  attend  to  the 
objective  light  offered,  in  order  to  another  con 
fequent  act  of  choice  :  ib  that  this  act  is  no  lefs 
neceflary  than  the  other.  And  if  we  fuppofe  ano 
ther  Act  of  the  Will,  flill  preceding  both  thefe 
mentioned,  to  determine  both,  ftill  that  alfo  muft 
be  an  Act  of  the  Will,  and  an  act  of  choice ;  and 
fo  muft,  by  the  fame  principles,  be  infallibly  de 
termined  by  fome  certain  degree  of  light  in  the 
Underftanding    concerning    the    greateft    good. 

And 


Sect.  IX.        'with  the  Underftanding.  j  j  /» 

And  let  us  fuppofe  as  many  Acts  of  the  Will,  one 
preceding   another,    as  we  plcafe,  yet  they  are 
every  one  of  them  neceflarily  determined  by  a 
certain   degree  of  light   in   the   Underftanding, 
concerning  the  greateft  and  moft  eligible  good  in 
that  cafe ;  and  fo,  not  one  of  them  free  according 
to    Dr.  Wkitbfs  notion  of  freedom.     And  if  it 
be  faid,  the  reafon,  why  men  do  not  attend  to 
light  held  forth,   is   becaufe  of  ill   habits    con 
tracted    by  evil  acts  committed  before,    whereby 
their  minds  are  indifpofed  to  attend  to,  and  con- 
fider  of  the  truth  held  forth  to  them  by  God,  the 
difficulty  is  not  at  all  avoided :  ftill  the  queflion 
returns,  What  determined  the  Will  in  thofe  pre 
ceding  evil  acts  ?    It  muft,  by  Dr.  Whiitys  prin 
ciples,  ftill   be   the  view  of  the  Underitanding 
concerning  the  greateft  good  and  evil.     If  this 
view  of  the  Underftanding  be  that  alone  which  doth 
move  the  Will  to  chufe  or  refufe,  as  the  Doctor  af- 
ferts,  then  every  act  of  choice  or  refufal,  from  a 
man's  firft  exigence,   is  moved  and  determined 
by  this  view ;  and  this  view  of  the  Underftand 
ing  exciting  and  governing  the  act,  muft  be  be 
fore  the  act :  And  therefore  the  Will  is  necefTa- 
rily  determined,  in  every  one  of  its  acts,  from  a 
man's  firft  exiftence,  by  a  caufe  befide  the  Will, 
and  a  caufe  that  does  not  proceed  from,  or  depend 
on 'any  Act  of  the  Will  at  all.     Which   at   once 
utterly  aboliihes  the  Doctor's  whole  fcheme  of  Li 
berty  of  Will ;  and  he,  at  one  ftroke,  has  cut 
the  finews  of  all  his  arguments  from  the  goodnefs, 
righteoufnefs,  ftithfulnefs  and  fmcerity  of  God, 
in   his  commands,  promifes,  threatenings,  calls^ 
invitations,  expoftulations ;  which  he  makes  ufe 
of,    under  the   heads   of    reprobation,    election, 
univerfal    redemption,    fufficicnt    arid    effectual 
grace,  and  the  freedom  of   the  Will  of  man  ; 
and  has  enervated  and  made  vain  all  thofe  excla- 
I  nations 


H4  Of  the  Connexion  of  the  Will  Part  IK 
mations  againft  the  dodtrine  of  the  Calvinifts,  as 
charging  God  with  manifeft  unrighteoufnefs,  un- 
faithfulnefs,  hypocrify,  fallacioufnefs,  and  cru 
elty;  which  he  has  over,  and  over,  and  over 
again,  numberlefs  times  in  his  book. 

Dr.  Samuel  Clark,  in  his  Demonftration  of  the  ' 
Being  and  Attributes  of  God,  *  to  evade  the  ar 
gument  to  prove  the  necefiity  of  volition,  from 
its  neceiTary  Connection  with  the  laft  dictate  of 
the  Underftanding,  fuppofes  the  latter  not  to  be 
diverfe  from  the  Act  of  the  Will  itfelf.  But  if  it 
be  fo,  it  will  not  alter  the  cafe  as  to  the  evidence 
of  the  neceffity  of  the  Act:  of  the  Will.  If  the 
dictate  of  the  Underftanding  be  the  very  fame 
with  the  determination  of  the  Will  or  Choice,  as 
Dr.  Clark  fuppofes,  then  this  determination  is  no 
fruit  or  effeft  of  choice :  and  if  fo,  no  liberty  of 
choice  has  any  hand  in  it:  as  to  volition  or 
choice,  it  is  neceffary  ;  that  is,  choice  cannot 
prevent  it.  If  the  laft  dictate  of  the  Underftand 
ing  be  the  fame  with  the  determination  of  voli 
tion  itfelf,  then  the  exiftence  of  that  determination 
muft  be  neceffary  as  to  volition ;  in  as  much  as 
volition  can  have  no  opportunity  to  determine 
whether  it  {hall  exift  or  no,  it  having  exiftence 
already  before  volition  has  opportunity  to  deter 
mine  any  thing.  It  is  itfelf  the  very  rife  and 
exiftence  of  volition.  But  a  thing,  after  it  exiils, 
has  no  opportunity  to  determine  as  to  its  own 
exiftence ;  it  is  too  late  for  that. 

If  liberty  confifts  in  that  which  Armenians  fup-? 
pofe,  viz.  in  the  Will's  determining  its  own  acts, 
having  free  opportunity,  and  being  without  all 
necefiity  5  this  is  the  fame  as  to  fay,  that  liber* 

*  Edit.  VI.  p.  93. 


Sect.  IX.         with  the  UnderHanding^  1 1  ^ 

ty  confifts  in  the  foul's  having  power  and  op 
portunity  to  have  what  determinations  of  the 
Will  it  pleafes  or  chnfes.  And  if  the  determi 
nations  of  the  Will,  and  the  laft  didlates  of  the 
Underftanding  be  the  fame  thing,  then  Liberty 
Confiils  in  the  mind's  having  power  to  have,  what 
dictates  of  the  Underftanding  it  pleafes,  having 
opportunity  to  chufe  its  own  dictates  of  Under 
ilanding.  But  this  is  abfurd ;  for  it  is  to  make 
the  determination  of  choice  prior  to  the  didtate  of 
Underftanding,  and  the  ground  of  it ;  which  can 
not  confift  with  the  dictate  of  Underftanding's  be 
ing  the  determination  of  choice  itfelf. 

Here  is  no  wray  to  do  in  this  cafe,  but  only  to 
recur  to  the  old  abfurdity  of  one  determination 
before  another,  and  the  caufe  of  it ;  and  another 
before  that,  determining  that ;  and  fo  on  in  infi- 
nitum.  If  the  laft  dictate  of  the  Underftanding 
be  the  determination  of  the  Will  itfelf,  and  the 
foul  be  free  with  regard  to  that  dictate,  in  .the 
Armmian  notion  of  freedom  ;  then  the  foul,  be 
fore  that  dictate  of  its  Underftanding  exifls,  volun 
tarily  and  according  to  its  own  choice  determines, 
in  every  cafe,  what  that  dictate  of  the  Under 
ilanding  Hiall  be  ;  otherwife  that  dictate,  as  to 
the  Will,  is  neceflary  ;  and  the  acts  determined 
by  it  mull  alib  be  necerlary.  So  that  here  is  a 
determination  of  the  mind  prior  to  that  dictate  of 
the  Underilanding,  an  act  of  choice  going  before 
it,  chuling  and  determining  what  that  dictate  of 
the  Underftanding  Ihall  be :  and  this  preceding 
act  of  choice,  being  a  free  act  of  Will,  muft  alio 
be  the  fame  with  another  laft  di6late  of  the  Un 
derftanding  :  And  if  the  mind  alfo  be  free  in  that 
dictate  of  Underftanding,  that  muft  be  deter 
mined  ftill  by  another ;  and  fo  on  for  ever.] 

I  2  Beddes, 


1 1 6  Of  tie  Connexion  of  the  Will  Part  II. 
Befides,  if  the  di&ate  of  the  Underftanding, 
and  determination  of  the  Will  be  the  fame,  this 
confounds  the  Underftanding  and  Will,  and  makes 
them  the  fame.  Whether  they  be  the  fame  or 
no,  I  will  not  now  difpute ;  but  only  would  ob- 
ferve,  that  if  it  be  fo,  and- the  Arminian  notion 
of  liberty  confifts  in  a  felf-determining  power 
in  the  Underftanding,  free  of  all  neceflity  ;  being 
independent,  undetermined  by  any  thing  prior  to 
its  own  acts  and  determinations ;  and  the  more 
the  Underftanding  is  thus  independent,  and  fove- 
reign  over  its  own  determinations,  the  more  free. 
By  this  therefore  the  freedom  of  the  foul,  as  a 
moral  agent,  muft  confift  in  the  independence 
of  the  Underftanding  on  any  evidence  or  appear 
ance  of  things,  or  any  thing  whatfoever,  that 
{lands  forth  to  the  view  of  the  mind,  prior  to  the 
Underftanding's  determination.  And  what  a 
fort  of  liberty  i's  this  !  confifting  in  an  ability, 
freedom  and  eafinefs  of  judging,  either  accord 
ing  to  evidence,  or  againft  it ;  having  a  fovereign 
command  over  itfelf  at  all  times,  to  judge,  ei 
ther  agreably  or  difagreably  to  what  is  plainly 
exhibited  to  its  own  view.  Certainly,  it  is  no  li 
berty  that  renders  perfons  the  proper  fubjedts  of 
perfuafive  reafoning,  arguments,  expostulations, 
and  fuch  like  moral  means  and  inducements. 
The  ufe  of  which  with  mankind  is  a  main  ar 
gument  of  the  Armimans,  to  defend  their  notion 
of  liberty  without  all  neceflity.  For  according 
to  this,  the  more  free  men  are,  the  lefs  they  are 
under  the  government  of  fuch  means,  lefs  fub- 
jecl:  to  the  power  of  evidence  and  reafon,  and 
more  independent  on  their  influence,  in  their  c)e- 
terminations. 

And  whether  the  Underftanding  and  Will  are 
the  fame  or  no,   as  Dr.  Clark  feems  to  fuppofe, 

yet 


Sect.  IX.       with  tie  Undemanding.  117 

yet  in  order  to  maintain  the  Armmian  notion  of 
liberty  without  neceflity,  the  free  Will  is  not 
determined  by  the  Underftanding,  nor  neceflarily 
connected  with  the  Underftanding ;  and  the  fur 
ther  from  ftrdi  Connection,  the  greater  the  free 
dom.  And  when  the  liberty  is  full  and  com- 
pleat,  the  determinations  of  the  Will  have  no 
Connection  at  all  with  the  dictates  of  the  Under- 
Handing.  And  if  fo,  in  vain  are  all  the  appli 
cations  to  the  Underftanding,  jn  order  to  induce 
to  any  free  virtuous  act ;  and  fo  in  vain  are  all 
inftructions,  counfels,  invitations,  expoftulations, 
and  all  arguments  and  perfuaiives  wliatlbever  : 
for  thefe  are  but  applications  to  the  Underftand- 
ing,  and  a  clear  and  lively  exhibition  of  the  ob 
jects  of  choice  to  the  mind's  view.  But  if,  after 
all,  the  Will  muft  be  felf-determined,  and  inde 
pendent  on  the  Underllanding,  to  what  purpofe 
are  things  thus  reprefented  to  the  Underflanding, 
la  order  to  determine  the  choice  ? 


SECTION     X. 

Volition  vecejjarily  connected  with  the  Influence  of 
Motives ;  with  particular  Obfcrvations  on  the 
great  Inconjifience  of  Mr.  Chubb's  Ajjcrtions 
and  Reasonings •,  about  the  Freedom  of  the  Will. 

THAT  every  act  of  the  will  has  fome  caufe, 
and  confequently  (by  what  has  been  al 
ready  proved)  has  a  neceflary  connection  with 
its  caufe,  and  fo  is  neceflary  by  a  neceflity  of 
connection  and  confequence,  is  evident  by  this, 
that  every  act  of  the  will  whatfoever  is  excited 
by  fome  motive :  which  is  manifcft,  becaufe,  if 
1 3  the 


n8  'dfls  of  tie  Will   '  Part  It. 

the  will  or  mind,  in  willing  and  chufing  after  the 
manner  that  it  does,  is  excited  fo  to  do  by  no 
motive  or  inducement,  then  it  has  no  end  which 
it  propofes  to  itfelf,  or  purfues  in  fo  doing  ;  it 
aims  at  nothing,  and  feeks  nothing.  And  if  in 
feeks  nothing,  then  it  does  not  go  after  any  thing, 
or  exert  any  inclination  or  preference  towards  any 
thing.  Which  brings  the  rnatter  to  a  contradic 
tion  ;  becaufe  for  the  mind  to  will  fomething, 
and  for  it  to  go  after  fomething  by  an  act  of  pre 
ference  and  inclination,  are  the  fanje  thing. 

But  if  every  aft  of  the  will  is  excited  by  a 
Motive,  then  that  Motive  is  the  caufc  of  the  act 
of  the  will.  If  the  acts  of  the  will  are  excited 
by  Motives,  then  Motives  are  the  caufes  of  their 
being  excited  ;  or,  which  is  the  fame  thing,  the 
caufe  of  their  being  put  forth  into  act  and  exif- 
tence.  And  if  fo,  the  cxiflence  of  the  acts  of  the 
will  is  properly  the  effect  of  their  Motives.,, 
Motives  do  nothing  as  Motives  or  inducements, 
but  by  their  influence  •,  and  fo  much  as  is  done 
by  their  influence  is  the  effect  of  them.  For 
that  is  the  notion  of  an  effect,  fomething  that 
is  brought  to  pals  by  the  influence  of  another 
thing. 

And  if  volitions  are  prqperly  the  effefts  of 
their  Motives,  then  they  are  necefTarily  connected 
with  their  Motives.  Every  effect  and  event  be 
ing,  a?  was  proved  before,  neceflarijy  connected 
with  tha%  which  is  the  proper  ground  and  reafon 
of  its  exiiknce.  Thus  it  is  manifeft,  that  volition 
is  necefiary,  and  is  not  from  any  felf-determin- 
ing  power  in  the  will  :  the  volition,  which  is 
caufevl  by  previous  Motive  and  inducement,  is 
not  caufed  by  the  will  exercifing  a  fovereign, 
power  over  itfelf],  to  determine,  caufe  and  excite 

volitions 


Se6l.  X.         connefted  with  Motives.  119 

volitions  in  itfelf.  This  is  not  confident  with 
the  will's  acting  in  a  Hate  of  indifference  and 
equilibrium,  to  determine  itfelf  to  a  preference  ; 
for  the  way  in  which  Motives  operate,  is  by  biaf- 
fing  the  will,  and  giving  it  a  certain  inclination 
or  preponderation  one  way. 

Here  it  may  be  proper  to  obferve,  that  Mr. 
Chubb,  in  his  Collection  of  Tracts  on  various 
Subjects,  has  advanced  a  fcheme  of  liberty,  which 
is  greatly  divided  againft  itfelf,  and  thoroughly 
fubverfive  of  itfelf ;  and  that  many  ways. 

I.  He  is  abundant  in  aflerting,  that  the  will, 
in  all  its  acts,  is  influenced  by  Motive  and  ex 
citement  ;  and  that  this  is  At  previous  ground  find 
reafon  of  all  its  acts,  and  that  it  is  never  other- 
wile  in  any  inflance.  He  fays,  (p.  262.)  No  ac 
tion  can  take  place  without  feme  Motive  to  excite  it. 
And  in  p.  263.  Volition  cannot  take  place  without 
fome  PREVIOUS  reafon  or  Motive  to  induce  it.  And 
in  p.  310.  Action  would  not  take  place  without  fome 
reafon  or  Motive  to  Induce  it ;  it  being  abfurd  to  fup- 
pofe,  that  the  aftwe  faculty  would  be  exerted  without 
fome  PREVIOUS  reafon  to  difpofe  the  mind  to  ac 
tion.  So  alfo  p.  257.  And  he  fpeaks  of  thefe 
things,  as  what  we  may  be  abfolutely  certain  of, 
and  which  are  the  foundation,  the  only  founda 
tion  we  have  of  a  certainty  of  the  moral  perfec 
tions  of  God.  p.  252,  253,  254,  255,  261,  262, 
263,  264. 

And  yet  at  the  fame  time,  by  his  fcheme,  the 
influence  of  Motives  upon  us  to  excite  to  action, 
and  to  be  actually  a  ground  of  volition,  is  confe- 
quent  on  the  volition  or  choice  of  the  mind.  For 
he  very  greatly  infifts  upon  it,  that  in  all  free  ac 
tions,  before  the  mind  is  the  fubject  of  thofe  vo- 
I  litions 


1 20          Inccnjlftence  of  Mr.  Chubb's        Fart  II. 
litions,  which  Motives  excite,  it  chufes  to  be  fo. 
It  chufes,  whether  it  will  comply  with  the-Motive, 
which  prefents  itfelf  in  view,  or  not ;  an4  when 
various  Motives  are  prefented,  it  chufes,  which  it 
•will  yield  to,  and  which  it  will  reject.  So  p.  256. 
Every  man  has  power  to  affi,  •  or  to  refrain  from  affi- 
ing  agreably  with,  or  contrary  to,  any  Motive  that 
prefents.     P.  257.  Every  man  is  at  liberty  to  aft,  or 
refrain  from  affing  agreably  with^  or  contrary  to, 
what  each  of  thefe  Motives,  confidered  fmgly^  would 
excite  him  to. — Man  has  power,  and  is  as  much  at 
liberty  to  rejeR  the  Motive^  that  does  prevail^  as  he 
has  power ,  and  is  at  liberty  to  rejett  thofe  Motives 
that  do  not.     And  fo  p.  310,  311?  In  order  to  con- 
jiitute  a  moral  agent ',  it  is  neceffary,  that  he  Jhould 
have  power  to  aft,  or  to  refrain  from  afting,  upon 
fitch  moral  Motives  as  he  pleafes.     A  nd  to  the  like 
purpofe  in  many  other  places.  According  to  thefe 
things,  the  will  acts  firft,  and  chufes  or  refufes  to 
comply  with  the  Motive,  that  is  prefented^before 
it  falls  under  its  prevailing  influence  :  and  it  is 
firft  determined  by  the  mind's  plcafure  or  choice^ 
what  Motives  it  will  be  induced  by,  before  it  is 
induced  by  them. 

Now,  how  can  thefe  things  hang  togetheV  ? 
How  can  the  mind  firit  act,  and  by  its  act  of 
volition  and  choice  determine,  what  Motives  fhall 
be  the  ground  and  reafon  of  its  volition  and 
choice?  For  this  fuppofes,  the  choice  is  already 
made,  before  the  Motive  has  its  effect  •,  and  that 
the  volition  is  already  exerted,  before  the  Motive 
prevails,  fo  as  actually  to  be  the  ground  of  the 
volition  |  and  makes  the  prevailing  of  the  Mo 
tive,  the  confequence  of  the  volition,  which  yet 
it  is  the  ground  of.  If  the  mind  has  already 
^hofen  to  comply  with  a  Motive,  and  to  yield  to 
Us  excitement,  it  does  not  need  to  yield  to  it  after 

this; 


Sect.  X.          Scheme  of  Liberty  *  Sec.  121 

this :  for  the  thing  is  effected  already,  that  the 
Motive  would  excite  to,  and  the  will  is  before 
hand  with  the  excitement-,  and  the  excitement 
comes  in  too  late,  and  is  needlefs  and  in  vain  af 
terwards.  If  the  mind  has  already  chofen  to  yield 
to  a  Motive  which  invites  to  a  thing,  that  implies 
and  in  fact  is  a  chufmg  the  thing  invited  to\  and 
the  very  aft  of  choice  is  before  the  influence  of 
the  Motive  which  induces,  and  is  the  ground  of 
the  choice ;  the  ion  is  beforehand  with  the  fa 
ther  that  begets  him :  the  choice  is  fuppofed  to 
be  the  ground  of  that  influence  of  the  Motive, 
which  very  influence  is  fuppofed  to  be  the  ground 
of  the  choice.  And  fo  vice  'verfa,  the  choice  is 
fuppofed  to  be  the  confequence  of  the  influence 
of  the  Motive,  which  influence  of  the  Motive  is 
the  confequence  ot  that  very  choice. 

And  befides,  if  the  will  acts  firft  towards  the 
Motive  before  it  falls  under  its  influence,  and  the 
prevailing  of  the  Motive  upon  it  to  induce  it  to 
act  and  chufe,  be  the  fruit  and  confequence  of 
its  act  and  choice,  then  how  is  the  Motive  a 
PREVIOUS  ground  and  reajon  of  the  aft  and  choice^ 
fo  that  in  the  nature  of  the  things ',  volition  cannot 
take  place  without  f owe  PREVIOUS  reafon  and  Mo 
tive  to  induce  it ;  and  that  this  act  is  confequent 
upon,  and  follows  the  Motive  ?  Which  things 
Mr.  Chubb  often  afferts,  as  of  certain  and  un 
doubted  truth.  So  that  the  very  fame  Motive  is 
both  previous  and  consequent,  both  before  and  af 
ter,  both  the  ground  and  fruit  of  the  very  fame 
thing ! 

II.  Agreable  to  the  fore-mentioned  inconfiilent 
notion  of  the  will's  firft  acting  towards  the  Mo 
tive,  chufing  whether  it  will  comply  with  it,  in 
order  to  its  becoming  a  ground  of  the  will's 

acting^ 


Inconftftence  of  Mr.  Chubb *s  Part  IL 
ailing,  before  any  act  of  volition  can  take  place, 
Mr.  Chubb  frequently  calls  Motives  and  excite 
ments  to  the  action  of  the  will,  the  pajfive  ground 
cr  reafon  of  that  affion.  Which  is  a  remarkable 
phrafc  ;  than  which  I  prefnme  there  is  none  more 
unintelligible,  and  void  of  diftinct  and  confident 
meaning,  in  all  the  writings  of  Duns  Scolus,  or 
^Thomas  Aquinas.  When  he  reprefents  the  Motive 
to  action  or  volition  as  paflive,  he  muft  mean: — 
paffive  in  that  affair,  or  paffive  with  refpect  to 
that  action,  which  he  fpeaks  of;  otherwife  it  is 
nothing  to  his  purpofe,  or  relating  to  the  defign 
of  his  argument :  he  muft  mean,  (if  that  can  be 
called  a  meaning)  that  the  Motive  to  volition  is 
firft  acted  upon  or  towards  by  the  volition,  enuring 
to  yield  to  it,  making  it  a  ground  of  action,  or 
determining  to  fetch  its  influence  from  thence  •, 
and  fo  to  make  it  a  previous  ground  of  its  own 
excitation  and  exiftenCe.  Which  is  the  fame 
ablurdity,  as  if  one  mould  fay,  that  the  foul  of 
man,  or  any  other  thing  fliould,  previous  to  its 
exilting,  chufe  what  caufe  it  would  come  into 
exiftence  by,  and  fhould  a.ct  upon  its  caufe,  to 
fetch  influence  from  thence,  to  bring  it  into  be 
ing  •,  and  fp  its  caufe  fhould  be  a  paflive  ground 
of  its  exiftence ! 

Mr.  Chubb  does  very  plainly  fuppofe  Motive  or* 
excitement  to  be  the  ground  of  the  being  of  voli 
tion.  He  fpeaks  of  it  as  the  ground  or  reafon 
of  the  EXERTION  of  an  act  of  the  will, 
p.  39 1 ,  and  392,  and  e^prefsly  fays,  that  volition 
cannot  TAKE  PLACE  without  fome  previous 
ground  or  Motive  to  induce  it,  p.  363.  And  he 
i  peaks  of  the  ad  as  FROM  the  Motive,  ancl  FROM 
THE  INFLUENCE  of  the  Motive,  p.  352.  and 
from  the  influence,  that  the  Motive  has  on  the  yian^ 
for  the  PRODUCTION  of  an  attion,  p,  3  { 7.  Cer 
tainly 


§e&.  >£.         Scbeme  of  Liberty,  &c. 

tainly  there  is  no  need  of  multiplying  words 
about  this ;  it  is  eaiily  judged,  whether  Motive 
can  be  the  ground  of  volition's  being  exerted  and 
taking  place,  fo  that  the  very  production  of  it  is 
from  the  influence  of  the  Motive,  and  yet  the 
Motive,  before  it  becomes  the  ground  of  the  VCH 
lition,  is  paffive,  or  acted  upon  by  the  volition. 
But  this  I  will  fay,  that  a  man,  who  infills  fo 
much  on  clearnefs  of  meaning  in  others,  and  is 
fo  much  in  blaming  their  confufion  and  incon- 
iiftence,  ought,  if  he  was  able,  to  have  explained 
his:  meaning  in  .this  phrafe  of  paffive  ground  of 
attion^  fo  as  to  fhew  it  not  to  be  confufed  and  in~ 
confiftent. 

If  any  fhould  fuppofe,  that  Mr.  Chubb ,  when 
he  fpeaks  of  Motive  as  a  paffive  ground  of  action, 
does  not  mean  paffive  with  regard  to  that  volition 
which  it  is  the  ground  of,  but  fome  other  ante 
cedent  volition  (though  his  purpofe  and  argument, 
and  whole  difcourfe,  will  by  no  means  allow  of 
fuch  a  fuppofition)  yet  it  would  not  help  the 
matter  in  the  leaft.  For,  (i.)  If  we  fuppofe  there 
to  be  an  act  of  volition  or  choice,  by  which  the 
foul  chufes  to  yield  to  the  invitation  of  a  Motive 
to  another  volition,  by  which  the  foul  chufes 
fomething  elfe  ;  both  thefe  fuppofed  volitions  are 
in  effect  the  very  fume.  A  volition,  or  chufing 
to  yield  to  the  force  of  a  Motive  inviting  to  chuie 
fomething,  comes  to  juft  the  fame  thing  as  chu- 
Jing  the  thing,  which  the  Motive  invites  to,  as  I 
obierved  before.  So  that  here  can  be  no  room 
to  help  the  matter,  by  a  distinction  of  two  voli 
tions.  (2.)  If  the  Motive  be  pafiive  with  refpect, 
not  to  the  fame  volition,  that  the  Motive  excites 
to,  but  one  truly  diftinct  and  prior ;  yet,  by  Mr. 
Cbubb,  that  prior  volition  cannot  take  place,  with- 
put  a  Motive  or  excitement,  as  a  previous  ground 
Z  of 


f  24  Inconjifience  of  Mr.  ChubVs      Part  II. 

of  its  exiftence.     For  he  in  lifts,  that  //  is  abfurd 
to  fuppofe  any  volition  foould  take  place  without  fome 
previous  Motive  to  induce  it.     So  that  at  laft  it 
comes  to  juft  the  fame  abfurdity :  for  if  every  vo 
lition  muft  have  a  previous  Motive,  then  the  very 
frfl  in  the  whole  feries  muft  be  excited  by  a  pre 
vious  Motive ;  and  yet  the  Motive  to  that  firft  vo 
lition  is  paflive  ;  but  cannot  be  paflive  with  re 
gard  to  another  antecedent  volition,  becaufe,  by 
the  fuppofition,  it  is  the  very  firft  :  therefore  if  it 
be  paflive  with  refpect  to  any  volition,  it  muft  be 
fo  with  regard  to  that  very  volition  that  it  is  the 
ground  of,  and  that  is  excited  by  it. 

III.  Though  Mr.  Chubb  afferts,  as  above,  that 
every  volition  has  fome  Motive,  and  that  in  the 
nature  of  the  thing*  no  volition  can  take  place  with- 
cut  fome  Motive  to  induce  it ;  yet  he  afferts,  that 
volition  does  not  always  follow  the  ftrongeft  Mo 
tive  ;  or,  in  other  words,  is  not  governed  by  any 
fuperiour  ftrength  of  the  Motive  that  is  followed, 
beyond  Motives  to  the  contrary,  previous  to  the 
volition  itfelf.     His  own  words,  p.   258,  are  as 
follow :  "  Though  with  regard  to  phyfical  caufes, 
"  that  which  is  ftrongeft  always  prevails,  yet  it  is 
"  othervvife  with  regard  to   moral  caufes.     Of 
"  thefe,  fometimes  the  ftronger,  fometimes  the 
"  weaker,    prevails.      And  the   ground  of  this 
"  difference    is  evident,  namely,    that  what  we 
"  call   moral  caufes,   ftrictly  fpeaking,   are   no 
"  caufes  at  all,  buc  barely  pafiive  realbns  of,  or 
"  excitements  to  the  action,  or  to  the  refrain- 
"  ing  from  acting :  which  excitements  we  have 
"  power,  or  are  at  liberty  to  comply  with  or  re- 
cc  ject,  as  I  have  fhewed  above/'  And  fo  through 
out  the  paragraph,  he,  in  a  variety  of  phrafes, 
infifts,   that  the  will  is  not  always  determined  by 
the  ftrongeft  Motive,  unlefs  by  ihrongeft  we  pre- 

pofte- 


Seel:.  X.          Scheme  of  Liberty,  &c.  125 

pofteroufly  mean  actually  prevailing  in  the  event ; 
which  is  not  in  the  Motive,  but  in  the  will ;  but 
that  the  will  is  not  always  determined  by  the 
Motive,  which  is  ftrongeft,  by  any  ftrength  previ 
ous  to  the  volition  iifelf.  And  he  elfe where  does 
abundantly  afiert,  that  the  will  is  determined  by 
no  fuperiour  ftrength  or  advantage,  that  Motives 
have,  from  any  conftitution  or  ftate  of  things, 
or  any  circumftances  whatfoever,  previous  to  the 
actual  determination  of  the  will.  And  indeed 
his  whole  difcourfe  on  human  liberty  implies  it, 
his  whole  fcheme  is  founded  upon  it. 

But  thefe  things  cannot  ftand  together. 

There  is  fuch  a  thing  as  a  diverfity  of  ftrength 
in  Motives  to  choice,  previous  to  the  choice  it- 
felf.  Mr.  Chubb  himielf  fuppofes,  that  they  do 
previoujly  invite,  induce,  excite  and  difpofe  the  mind 
to  attion.  This  implies,  that  they  have  fomething 
in  themfelves  that  is  inviting,  fome  tendency  to 
induce  and  difpofe  to  volition,  previous  to  volition 
itfelf.  And  if  they  have  in  themfelves  this  na 
ture  and  tendency,  doubtlefs  they  have  it  in  cer-> 
tain  limited  degrees,  which  are  capable  of  diver 
fity  ;  and  fome  have  it  in  greater  degrees,  others 
in  lefs  -,  and  they  that  have  mod  of  this  ten 
dency,  coniidered  with  all  their  nature  and  cir 
cumftances,  previous  to  volition,  they  are  the 
ftrongeft  motives ;  and  thofe  that  have  leaft,  are 
the  weakeft  Motives. 

Now  if  volition  fometimes  does  not  follow  the 
Motive  which  is  ftrongeft,  or  has  moft  previous 
tendency  or  advantage,  all  things  coniidered,  to 
induce  or  excite  it,  but  follows  the  weakeft,  or 
that  which  as  it  ftands  previoufly  in  the  mind's 
view,  has  leaft  tendency  to  induce  it ;  herein  the 
will  apparently  aclts  wholly  without  Motive,  withr 
i  out 


126  Tnccnjtftence  of  Mr.  Chubb's  Part  IL 
out  any  previous  reafon  to  difpofe  the  mind  to  it, 
contrary  to  what  the  fame  author  fuppofes*  The 
act,  wherein  the  will  mult  proceed  without  a  pre 
vious  motive  to  induce  it,  is  the  act  of  preferring 
the  weakeft  motive.  For  how  abfurd  is  it  to  fay* 
the  mind  fees  previous  reafon  in  the  Motive,  to 
prefer  that  Motive  before  the  other ;  and  at  the 
fame  time  to  fuppofe,  that  there  is  nothing  in  the 
Motive,  in  its  nature,  •  ftate  or  any  circumftance 
of  it  whatfoever,  as  it  (lands  in  the  previous 
view  of  the  mind,  that  gives  it  any  preference  ; 
but  on  the  contrary,  the  other  Motive  that  Hands 
in  competition  with  it,  in  all  thefe  refpects,  has 
moft  belonging  to  it,  that  is  inviting  and  mov 
ing,  and  has  moft  of  a  tendency  to  choice  and 
preference.  This  is  certainly  as  much  as  to  fay, 
there  is  previous  ground  and  reafon  in  the  Mo 
tive  for  the  act  of  preference,  and  yet  no  previ 
ous  reafon  for  it.  By  the  fnppofition,  as  to  all 
that  is  in  the  two  rival  Motives,  which  tends  to 
preference,  previous  to  the  act  of  preference,  it  is 
not  in  that  which  is  preferred,  but  wholly  in  the 
other:  becaufe  appearing  fuperiour  ftrength, 
and  all  appearing  preferablenefs  is  in  that ;  and 
yet  Mr.  Chubb  fuppofes,  that  the  act  of  prefe 
rence  is  from  'previous  ground  and  reafon  in  the 
Motive  which  is  preferred.  But  are  thefe  th  ings 
confident  ?  Can  there  be  previous  ground  in  a 
thing  for  an  event  that  takes  place,  and  yet  no 
previous  tendency  in  it  to  that  event  ?  If  one 
thing  follows  another,  without  any  previous  ten 
dency  to  its  following,  then  I  mould  think  it 
very  plain,  that  it  follows  it  without  ,any  man 
ner  of  previous  reafon,  why  it  ihould  follow. 

Yea,  in  this  cafe,  Mr.  Chubb  fuppofes,  that 
the  event  follows  an  antecedent  or  a  previous 
thing,  as  the  ground  of  its  exiftence,  not  only 

that 


Sect.  X.        Scheme  of  Liberty ,  Src*  127 

that  has  no  tendency  to  it,  but  a  contrary  tendency. 
The  event  is  the  preference,  which  the  mind  gives 
to  that  Motive,  which  is  weaker,  as  it  (lands  in  the 
previous  view  of  the  mind  •,  the  immediate  an 
tecedent  is  the  view  the  mind  has  of  the  two  ri 
val  Motives  conjunctly  ;  in  which  previous  view 
of  the  mind,  all  the  preferablenefs,  or   previous 
tendency  to  preference,  is  fnppofed  to  be  on  the 
other  iide,  or  in  the  contrary  Motive  -,  and  all 
the  unworthinefs  of  preference,  and  fo  previous 
tendency    to  comparative  neglect,   rejection    or 
undervaluing,  is  on  that  fide  which  is  preferred  : 
and  yet  in  this  view  of  the  mind  is  fuppofed  to 
be  the  previous  ground  or  reafon  of  this   act  of 
preference,  exciting  it,  and  dlfpojing  the  mind  to  it* 
Which,  I  leave  the  reader  to  judge,  whether  it 
be  abfurd  or  not.     If  it  be  not,  then  it  is  not  ab- 
furd  to  fay,   that  the  previous  tendency  of  an 
antecedent  to  a  confequent,  is  the  ground  and 
reafon  why    that  confequent   does   noc  follow ; 
and   the   want  of   a   previous   tendency   to   an 
event,  yea,  a  tendency  to  the  contrary,  is  the 
true   ground    and  reafon  why  that    event   does 
follow* 

An  act  of  choice  or  preference  is  a  compa 
rative  act,  wherein  the  mind  acts  with  reference 
to  two  or  more  things  that  are  compared,  and 
{land  in  competition  in  the  mind's  view.  If  the 
mind,  in  this  comparative  act,  prefers  that  which 
appears  inferiour  in  the  cornparifon,  then  the 
mind  herein  acts  abfolutely  without  Motive,  or 
inducement,  or  any  temptation  whatfoever. 
Then,  if  a  hungry  man  has  the  offer  of  two 
forts  of  food,  both  which  he  finds  an  appetite 
to,  but  has  a  ftronger  appetite  to  one  than  the 
other ;  and  there  be  no  circumflances  or  excite 
ments  whatfoever  in  the  cafe  to  induce  him  to 

take 


128  Incouftjlence  of  Mr.  Chubb's       Part  II, 

take  either  the  one  or  the  other,  but  meerly  his 
appetite :  if  in  the  choice  he  makes  between 
them,  he  chufes  that,  which  he  has  leaft  appetite 
to,  and  refutes  that,  to  which  he  has  the  ftrongeft 
appetite,  this  is  a  choice  made  abfolutely  with 
out  previous  Motive,  Excitement,  Reafon,  or 
Temptation,  as  much  as  if  he  were  perfectly 
without  all  appetite  to  either :  becaufe  his  vo 
lition  in  this  cafe  is  a  comparative  act,  attend 
ing  and  following  a  comparative  view  of  the  food, 
which  he  chufes,  viewing  it  as  related  to,  and 
compared  with  the  other  fort  of  food,  in  which 
view  his  preference  has  abfolutely  no  previous 
ground,  yea,  is  againft  all  previous  ground  and 
Motive.  And  if  there  be  any  principle  in  man, 
from  whence  an  act  of  choice  may  arife  after  this 
manner,  from  the  fame  principle  volition  may 
ariie  wholly  without  Motive  on  either  fide.  If 
the  mind  in  its  volition  can  go  beyond  Motive, 
then  it  can  go  without  Motive :  for  when  it  is 
beyond  the  Motive,  it  is  out  of  the  reach  of  the 
Motive,  out  of  the  limits  of  its  influence,  and 
fo  without  Motive.  If  volition  goes  beyond  the 
ftrength  and  tendency  of  Motive,  and  efpecially 
if  it  goes  againft  its  tendency,  this  demonftrates 
the  independence  of  volition  or  Motive.  And 
if  fo,  no  reafon  can  be  given  for  what  Mr.  Cbubb 
fo  often  aiferts,  even  that  in  the  nature  of  things 
volition  cannot  take  flace  without  a  Motive  to  in 
duce  it* 

If  the  Moft  High  Ihould  endow  a  balance  with 
agency  or  activity  of  nature,  in  fuch  a  manner, 
that  when  unequal  weights  are  put  into  the  fcales, 
its  agency  could  enable  it  to  caufe  that  fcale  to 
defcend,  which  has  the  leaft  weight,  and  fo  to 
raife  the  greater  weight ;  this  would  clearly  de- 
that  the  motion  of  the  balance  does 

not 


Se6l.  X.         Scheme  of  Liberty ,  &c.  129 

not  depend  on  weights  in  the  fcales,  at  leaft  as 
much  as  if  the  balance  fhould  move  itfelf,  when 
there  is  no  weight  in  either  fcale.  And  the  ac 
tivity  of  the  balance  which  is  fufficient  to  move 
itfeli  againfl  the  greater  weight,  muft  certainly 
be  more  than  fufficient  to  move  it  when  there  is 
no  weight  at  all. 

Mr.  Chubb  fuppofes,  that  the  will  cannot  ftir  at 
all  without  fome  Motive  ;  and  alfo  fuppoics,  that 
if  there  be  a  Motive  to  one  thing,  and  none  to 
the  contrary,  volition  will  infallibly  follow  that 
Motive.  This  is  virtually  to  fuppofe  an  entire 
dependence  of  the  will  on  Motives :  if  it  were 
not  wholly  dependent  on  them,  it  could  furely 
help  itfelf  a  little  without  them,  or  help  itfelf  a 
little  againfl:  a  Motive,  without  help  from  the 
ftrength  and  weight  of  a  contrary  Motive.  And 
yet  his  luppofing  that  the  will,  when  it  has  be 
fore  it  various  oppofite  Motives,  can  ufe  them  as 
it  pleafes,  and  chufe  its  own  influence  from  them, 
and  neglect  the  ftrongeft,  and  follow  the  weakeft, 
fuppoics  it  to  be  wholly  independent  on  Motives. 

It  further  appears,  on  Mr.  ChuWs  fuppofition, 
that  volition  mull  be  without  any  previous  ground 
in  any  Motive,  thus  :  if  it  be,  as  he  fuppoles,  that 
the  will  is  not  determined  by  any  previous  fupe- 
riour  ftrength  of  the  Motive,  but  determines  and 
chules  its  own  Motive,  then,  when  the  rival  Mo 
tives  are  exactly  equal  in  (Irength  and  tendency 
to  induce,  in  all  refpecls,  it  may  follow  either ; 
and  may  in  fuch  a  cafe,  fometimes  follow  one, 
fometimes  the  other.  And  if  fo,  this  diverfity 
which  appears  between  the  a6ts  of  the  will,  is 
plainly  without  previous  ground  in  either  of  the 
Motives;  for  all  that  is  previoufly  in  the  Motives, 
is  fuppofed  precifely  and  perfectly  the  fame,  wirh- 

K  out 


130  Inconfijlence  of  Mr.  Chubb's     Part  II. 

out  any  diverfity  whatfoever.  Now  perfect  iden 
tity,  as  to  all  that  is  previous  in  the  antecedent, 
cannot  be  the  ground  and  reafon  of  diverfity  in 
the  confequent.  Perfect  identity  in  the  ground 
cannot  be  a  reafon  why  it  is  not  followed  with  the 
fame  confequence.  And  therefore  the  fource  of 
this  diverfity  of  confequence  muft  be  fought  for 
elfewhere. 

And  laftly,  it  may  be  obferved,  that  however 
Mr.  Chubb  does  much  infill  that  no  volition  can 
take  place  without  fome  Motive  to  induce  it, 
which  previoufly  difpofes  the  mind  to  it;  yet,  as 
he  alfo  infifls  that  the  mind,  without  reference  to 
any  fuperiour  ftrength  of  Motives,  picks  and 
chufes  for  its  Motive  to  follow  -,  he  himfelf  herein 
plainly  fuppofes,  that  with  regard  to  the  mind's 
preference  of  one  Motive  before  another,  it  is  not 
the  Motive  that  difpofes  the  will,  but  the  will 
difpofes  itfelf  to  follow  the  Motive. 

IV.  Mr.  Ckulb  fuppofes  neceffity  to  be  utterly 
inconfiftent  with  agency  ;  and  that  to  fuppofe  a 
being  to  be  an  agent  in  that  which  is  neceffary,  is 
a  plain  contradiction.  P.  311,  and  throughout  his 
difcourfes  on  the  fubject  of  Liberty,  he  fuppofes, 
that  neceflity  cannot  confifl  with  agency  or  free 
dom  ;  and  that  to  fuppofe  otherwife,  is  to  make 
Liberty  and  Necefiity,  Action  and  Paffion,  the 
fame  thing.  And  fo  he  feems  to  fuppofe,  that 
there  is  no  adtion,  ftrictly  fpeaking,  but  volition  ; 
and  that  as  to  the  effefts  of  volition  in  body  or 
mind;  in  themfelves  confidered,  being  neceflary, 
they  are  faid  to  be  free,  only  as  they  are  the  ef* 
fefts  of  an  act  that  is  not  neceflary. 

And  yet,  according  to  him,  volition  itfelf  is 
the  effett  vf  volition ;  yea?  every  act  of  free  vo 
lition  : 


Sect.  X.'          Scheme  of  Liberty ^  &c.  131 

lition :  and  therefore  every  act  of  free  volition 
muft,  by  what  has  now  been  obferved  from  him, 
be  neceflary.  That  every  act  of  free  volition  is 
itfelf  the  effect  of  volition,  is  abundantly  fup- 
pofed  by  him.  In  p.  341,  he  fays,  "  If  a  man 
"  is  fuch  a  creature  as  I  have  proved  him  to  be, 
"  that  is,  if  he  has  in  him  a  power  or  Liberty 
"  of  doing  either  good  or  evil,  and  either  of 
<c  thefe  is  the  fubject  of  his  own  free  choice,  fo 
«  that  he  might,  IF  HE  HAD  PLEASED, 

**  have  CHOSEN  and  done  the  contrary." 

Here  he  fuppofes,  all  that  is  good  or  evil  in  man 
is  the  effect  of  his  choice  ;  and  fo  that  his  good 
or  evil  choice  itfelf  is  the  effect  of  his  pleafure 
or  choice,  in  thefe  words,  he  might^  if  he  had 
PLEASED,  have  CHOSEN  the  contrary.  So  in 
p.  356,  "  Though  it  be  highly  reafonable,  that  a 
"  man  fhould  always  chufe  the  greater  good,— 
"  yet  he  may,  if  he  PLEASE,  CHUSE  other- 
"  wife."  Which  is  the  fame  thing  as  if  he  had 
faid,  be  may,  if  he  chufes,  chufe  otherwife.  And 
then  he  goes  on,  " — that  is,  he  may,  if  he  pleajes, 
"  chufe  what  is  good  for  himfelf,  &c."  And 
again  in  the  fame  page,  "  The  will  is  not  con- 
"  fined  by  the  underflanding,  to  any  particular 
"  fort  of  good,  whether  greater  or  lefs  ;  but  is  at 
ci  liberty  to  chufe  what  kind  cf  good  it  pleafes" 
— If  there  be  any  meaning  in  the  lad  words, 
the  meaning  mult  be  this,  that  the  will  is  at  li 
berty  to  chuje  7vhat  kind  of  good  it  chufes  to  chufe ; 
fuppofing  the  act  of  cnoice  itfelf  determined 
by  an  antecedent  choice.  The  Liberty  Mr.  Chubb 
fpeaks  of,  is  not  only  a  man's  having  power  to 
move  his  body  agreably  to  an  antecedent  act  of 
choice,  but  to  ufe,  or  exert  the  faculties  of  his 
foul.  Thus,  in  p.  379,  fpeaking  of  the  facul 
ties  of  his  mind,  he  lays,  "  Man  has  power,  and 
4<  is  at  liberty  to  neglect  thefe  faculties,  to  ufe 
K  2  "  them 


132  Inconfiftence  of  Mr.  Chubb's     Part  II. 

'4  them  aright,  or  to  abnfe  them,  as  he  pleafes" 
And  that  he  fuppofes  an  act  of  choice,  or  exer- 
cife  of  pleafure,  properly  diftindt/r0^,  and  ante 
cedent  to,  thofe  ads  thus  chofen,  directing,  com 
manding  and  producing  the  chofen  acts,  and  even 
the  acts  of  choice  themfelves,  is  very  plain  in 
p.  283.  "  He  can  command  his  aftions-,  and  here- 
"  in  confifts  his  Liberty  •,  he  can  give  or  deny 
"  himfelf  that  pleafure,  as  he pleafes."  And  p.  377. 
"  If  the  actions  of  men — are  not  the  produce  of  a 
"  free  choice,  or  election,  but  fpring  from  a-  ne- 

".cefTityof  nature,- he  cannot  in  reafon  be 

"  the  object  of  reward  or  puniftiment  on  their 
(i  account.     Whereas,  if  action  in  man,  whether 
"  good  or   evil,  is  the  produce  of  will  or  free 
"  choice,  i  fo  that  a  man  in  either  cafe,  had   it  in 
"  his  power,  and  was  at  liberty  to  have  CHO- 
"  SEN   the  contrary,  he  is  the  proper  object  of 
"  reward  or  punifnment,  according  as  he  CHU- 
"  SES  to  behave  himfelf."     Here,  in  thefe  laft 
words,  he  fpeaks  of  Liberty  of  CHUSING,  accord 
ing  as  he  ChUSES.     So  that  the  behaviour  which 
he  fpeaks  of  as  fubject  to  his  choice,  is  his  cbu/ing 
-itfelf,  as  well  as  his  external  conduct  confequent 
upon  it.     And  therefore  it  is  evident,   he  means 
not  only  external  actions,  but   the  acts  of  choice 
themfelves,  when  he  fpeaks  of  all  free  aclions,  as 
the  PRODUCE  of  free  choice.     And  this  is  abun 
dantly  evident  in  what  he  fays  in  p.  372,  373. 

Now  thefe  things  imply  a  twofold  great  ab- 
furdiry  and  inconGilence, 

i.  To  fnppofe,  as  Mr.  Chulb  plainly  does,  that 
'every  free  act  of  choice  is  commanded  by,  and  is 
the  produce  of  free  choice,  is  to  fuppofe  the  firft 
free  act  of  choice  belonging  to  the  cafe,  yea,  the 
free  act  of  choice  that  ever  man  exerted,  to 
tie  produce  of  an  antecedent  act  of  choice. 

But 


Sect.  X.  Scheme  of  Liberty,  &c.  133 

But  I  hope  I  need  not  labour  at  all  to  convince 
my  readers,  that  it  is  an  abfurdity  to  fay,  the  very 
frft  act  is  the  produce  of  another  ad  that  went 
before  it. 

2.  If  it  were  both  poffible  and  real,  as  Mr. 
Chubb  infills,  that  every  free  act  of  choice  were 
the  produce  or  the  effect  of  a  free  act  of  choice ; 
yet  even  then,  according  to  his  principles,  no  one 
act  of  choice  would  be  free,  but  every  one  ne- 
cefTary ;  becaufe,  every  act  of  choice  being  the 
effect  of  a  foregoing  act,  every  act  would  be 
neceffarily  connected  with  that  foregoing  caufe. 
For  Mr.  Chubb  himfelf  fays,  p.  389,  "  When  the 
"  felf-moving  power  is  exerted,  it  becomes  the 

"  neceflary  caufe  of  its  effects.51 So  that  his 

notion  of  a  free  act,  that  is  revvardable  or  punifh- 
able,  is  a  heap  of  contradictions.  It  is  a  free  act, 
and  yet,  by  his  own  notion  of  freedom,  is  necel- 
fary  ;  and  therefore  by  him  it  is  a  contradiction, 
to  fuppofe  it  to  be  free.  According  to  him, 
every  free  act  is  the  produce  of  a  free  act ;  fo 
that  there  muft  be  an  infinite  number  of  free 
acts  in  fucceflion,  without  any  beginning,  in  an 
agent  that  has  a  beginning.  And  therefore  here 
is  an  infinite  number  of  free  acts,  every  one 
of  them  tree  ;  and  yet  not  any  one  of  them  free, 
but  every  act  in  the  whole  infinite  chain  a  ne- 
ceiTary  effect.  All  the  acts  are  rewardable  or 
punilhable,  and  yet  the  agent  cannot,  in  reafon, 
be  the  object  of  reward  or  punifhment,  on  ac 
count  of  any  one  of  thefe  actions.  He  is  active 
in  them  all,  and  paflive  in  none ;  yet  active  in 
none,  but  paflive  in  all,  &c. 

V.  Mr.  Chubb  does  mod  ftrenuoufly  deny,  that 

Motives   are   caufes  of  the  acts  of  the   will ;    or 

that  the  moving   principle  in  man   is  moved,  or 

caufed  to  be  exerted  by  Motives.  His  words,  p.  388 

K  3  and 


1 34  Inconjtftence  of  Mr.  Chubb's       Part  II. 

and  389,  arc,  <c  If  the  moving  principle  in  man 
"  is  MOVED,  or  CAUSED  TO  BE  EXERT- 
"  ED,  by  fomething  external  to  man,  which  all 
"  Motives  are,  then  it  would  not  be  a  felf-moving 
*'  principle,  feeing  it  would  .be  moved  by  a  prin- 
"  ciple  external  to  itfelf.  And  to  fay,  that  a 
"  felt-moving  principle  is  MOVED,  or  CAU- 
*'  SED  TO  BE  EXERTED,  by  a  caufe  ex- 
"  ternal  to  itfelf,  is  abfurd  and  a  contradiction, 
"  &c." — And  in  the  next  page,  it  is  particu 
larly  and  largely  infilled,  that  Motives  are  caufes 
in  no  cafe,  that  they  are  meerly  pa/five  in  the 
production  of  attion,  and  have  no  caufality  in  the  pro- 
duttion  of  it, — no  caufality,  to  be  the  caufe  of  tht 
exertion  of  the  will. 

Now  I  defire  it  may  be  confidered,  how  this 
can  poflibly  confiil  with  what  he  fays  in  other 
places.  Let  it  be  noted  here, 

i .  Mr.  Chubb  abundantly  fpeaks  of  Motives  as 
excitements  of  the  afts  of  the  will ;  and  fays,  that 
Motives  do  excite  volition,  and  induce  it,  and  that 
they  are  neceffary  to  this  end ;  that  in  the  reafon 
and  nature  of  things,  volition  cannot  tak:  place 
'without  Motives  to  excite  it.  But  now,  if  Motives 
excite  the  will,  they  move  it ;  and  yet  he  fays,  it 
is  abfurd  to  fay,  the  will  is  moved  by  Motives. 
And  again  (if  language  is  of  any  fignifkancy  at 
all)  if  Motives  excite  volition,  then  they  are  the 
caufe  of  its  being  excited ;  and  to  caufe  volition 
to  be  excited,  is  to  caufe  it  to  be  put  forth  or  ex 
erted.  Yea,  Mr.  Chubb  fays  himfelf,  p.  3 1 7,  Mo 
tive  is  neceffary  to  the  exertion  of  the  active  fa 
culty.  To  excite,  is  pofitively  to  d&  fomething  ; 
and  certainly  that  which  does  fomething,  is  the 
caufe  of  the  thing  done  by  it.  To  create,  is  to 
caufe  to  be  created  ;  to  make,  is  to  caufe  to  be 

made  \ 


Sect.  X.  Scheme  of  Liberty ',  &c.  135 

made ;  to  kill,  is  to  caufe  to  be  killed  ;  to  quicken, 
is  to  caufe  to  be  quickened ;  and  to  excite^  is  to 
caufe  to  be  excited.  To  excite,  is  to  be  a  caufe,  in 
the  moil  proper  fenfe,  not  meerly  a  negative  oc- 
cafion,  but  a  ground  of  exiftence  by  politive  in 
fluence.  The  notion  of  exciting,  is  exerting  in 
fluence  to  caufe  the  effect  to  arife  or  come  forth 
into  exiftence. 

2.  Mr.  Cbulb  himfelf,  p.  317,  fpeaks  of  Mo 
tives   as  the  ground  and  reafon  of  adlion  BY 
INFLUENCE,  and   BY  PREVAILING  IN 
FLUENCE.     Now,  what  can  be  meant  by  a 
caufe,  but  fomething  that  is  the  ground  and  rea 
fon  of  a  thing  by  its  influence,  an  influence  that 
is  prevalent  and  fo  effectual  ? 

3.  This  author  not  only  fpeaks  of  Motives  as 
the  ground  and  reafon  of  action,  by  prevailing 
influence  ;  but  exprefsly  of  their  influence  as  pre 
vailing  FOR  THE  PRODUCTION  of  an  ac 
tion,  in  the  fame  p.  317  :  which  makes  the  in- 
confirtency   flili   more   palpable   and   notorious. 
The  production  of  an  effect  is  certainly  the  caufing 
of  an  effect ;  and  productive  influence  is  caufal  in~ 
fiuence^  if  any  thing  is  ;  and  that  which  has  this 
influence  pevalently,  fo  as  thereby  to  become  the 
ground  of  another  thing,  is  a  caufe  of  that  thing, 
if  there  be  any  fuch  thing  as  a  caufe.     This  in 
fluence,  Mr.  Chubb  fays,  Motives  have  to  produce 
an  action ;  and  yet,  he  fays,  it  is  abfurd  and  a 
contradiction,  to  fay  they  are  caufes. 

4.  In  the  fame  page,  he  once  and  again  fpeaks 
of  Motives  as  di/pofing  the  Agent  to  action,  ly 
their  influence.     His  words  are  thefe :  "As  Mo 
"  tive,  which  takes  place  in  the  underftanding, 
"  and  is  the  product  of  intelligence,  is  NECES- 

K  4  «  SARY 


-136       Inconfiflence  of  Mr.  Chubb's,  Sec.    Part  II. 
"  SARY  to  adion,  that  is,  to  the  EXERTION 

6  of  the  active  faculty,  becauie  that  faculty 
"  would  not  be  exerted  without  fome  PREVI- 

c  OUS  REASON  to  DISPOSE  the  mind  to 
"  a&ion ;  fo  from  hence  it  plainly  appears,  that 
"  when  a  man  is  faid  to  be  difpofed  to  one  action 
"  rather  than  another,  this  properly  fignifies  the 
"  PREVAILING  INFLUENCE  that  one  Mo 

c  tive  has  upon  a  man  FOR  THE  PRODUC- 
"  TION  of  an  action,  or  for  the  being  at  reft, 
"  before  all  other  Motives,  for  the  production  of 
"  the  contrary.  For  as  Motive  is  the  ground 
"  and  realbn  of  any  action,  fo  the  Motive  that 
"  prevails,  DISPOSES  the  agent  to  the  perform- 
"  ance  of  that  action." 

Now.  if  Motives  difpofc  the  mind  to  adlion, 
then  they  caufe  the  mind  to  be  difpofed  :  and  to 
caufe  the  mind  to  be  difpofed  is  to  caufe  it  to  be 
willing;  and  to  caufe  it  to  be  willing  is  to  caufe 
it  to  will ;  and  that  is  the  fame  thing  as  to  be  the 
caufe  of  an  act  of  the  will.  And  yet  this  fame 
Mr.  Chubb  holds  it  to  be  abfurd,  to  fuppofe  Mo 
tive  to  be  a  caufe  of  the  act  of  the  will. 

And  if  we  compare  thefe  things  together,  we 
have  here  again  a  whole  heap  of  inconfiftences. 
Motives  are  the  previous  ground  and  reafon  of  the 
acts  of  the  will ;  yea,  the  neceffary  ground  and 
reafon  of  their  exertion,  without  which  they  will  not 
be  exerted,  and  cannot,  in  the  nature  of  things,  take 
place  ;  and  they  do  excite  thefe  acts  of  the  will, 
and  do  this  by  a  prevailing  influence ;  yea,  an  in 
fluence  which  prevails  for  the  production  of  the  aft  of 
the  will,  and  for  the  difpofing  of  the  mind  to  it  •, 
and  yet  it  is  abfurd,  to  fuppofe  Motive  to  be  a  caufe 
of  an  act  of  the  will,  or  that  a  principle  of  will 
is  moved  or  caufed  to  be  exerted  by  it,  or  that  it  has 

any 


Sect  XL  GOD  certainly  foreknows,  &?c.  137 
any  caufality  in  the  production  of  it9  or  any  caufality 
to  be  the  caufe  of  the  exertion  of  the  will. 

A  due  confideration  of  thefe  things  which 
Mr.  Chubb  has  advanced,  the  flrange  inconfift- 
ences  which  the  notion  of  Liberty,  confifting  in 
the  will's  power  of  felf-determination  void  of  all 
necefiity,  united  with  that  dictate  of  common 
fenfe,  that  there  can  be  no  volition  without  a 
Motive,  drove  him  into,  may  be  fufficient  to  con 
vince  us,  that  it  is  utterly  impofiible  ever  to  make 
that  notion  of  Liberty  confiftent  with  the  influ 
ence  of  Motives  in  volition.  And  as  it  is  in  a 
manner  felf-evident,  that  there  can  be  no  act  of 
will,  choice,  or  preference  of  the  mind,  without 
fonie  Motive  or  inducement,  ibmething  in  the 
mind's  view,  which  it  aims  at,  feeks,  inclines  to, 
and  goes  after  •,  fo  it  is  moil  manifeft,  there  is  no 
fuch  Liberty  in  the  univerfe  as  Arminians  infift  on  j 
nor  any  fuch  thing  pofllble,  or  conceivable. 


SECTION     XL 

<The  Evidence  of  GOD's   certain   Foreknowledge 
of  the  Volitions  of  moral  Agents. 


H  AT  the  acts  of  the  wills  of  moral  Agents 
are  not  contingent  events,  in  that  fenie,  as 
to  be  without  all  neceffity,  appears  by  God's  cer 
tain  Foreknowledge  of  fuch  events. 


In  handling  this  argument,  I  would  in 
place  prove,  that  God  has  a  certain  Foreknow 
ledge  of  the  voluntary  acts  of  moral  Agents  ;  and 
fecondly,  Ihew  the  confequence,  or  how  it  follows 
from  hence,  that  the  Volitions  of  moral  Agents 

are 


138  GOD  certainly  foreknows        Part  IT. 

are  not  contingent,  ib  as  to  be  without  necefllty 
of  connection  and  confequence. 

FIRST,  I  am  to  prove,  that  God  has  an  abfo- 
lute  and  certain  Foreknowledge  of  the  free  ac 
tions  of  moral  Agents. 

One  would  think,  it  ihould  be  wholly  needlefs 
to  enter  on  fuch  an  argument  with  any  that  pro- 
fefs  themfelves  Chriftians :  but  fo  it  is  ;  God's 
certain  Foreknowledge  of  the  free  acts  of  moral 
Agents,  is  denied  by  fome  that  pretend  to  believe 
the  Scriptures  to  be  the  Word  of  God  ;  and 
cfpecially  of  late.  I  therefore  fhall  confider  the 
evidence  of  fuch  a  prefcience  in  the  Mofl  High, 
as  fully  as  the  defigned  limits  of  this  eflay  will  ad . 
mit  of;  fuppofing  myfelf  herein  to  have  to  do 
with  fuch  as  own  the  truth  of  the  Bible. 

ARG.  I.  My /r/?  argument  fhall  be  taken  from 
God's  -prediction  of  fuch  events.  Here  I  would, 
in  the  firil  place,  lay  down  thefe  two  things  as 
axioms. 

(i.)  If  God  does  not  foreknow,  He  cannot  fore 
tell  fuch  events ;  that  is,  He  cannot  peremptorily 
and  certainly  foretell  them.  If  God  has  no  more 
than  an  uncertain  guefs  concerning  events  of  this 
kind,  then  He  can  declare  no  more  than  an  un 
certain  guefs.  Positively  to  foretell,  is  to  profefs 
to  foreknow,  or  declare  pofitive  Foreknowlege. 

(2.)  If  God  does  not  certainly  foreknow  the  fu 
ture  Volitions  of  moral  Agents,  then  neither  can 
He  certainly  foreknow  thole  events  which  are  con- 
fequent  and  dependent  on  thefe  Volitions.  The 
cxiftence  of  the  one  depending  on  the  exigence  of 
the  other,  the  knowledge  of  the  exiftence  of  the 

one 


Sect.  XL    the  Volitions  of  moral  Agents.          139 

one  depends  on  the  knowledge  of  the  exiftence 
of  the  other  ;  and  the  one  cannot  be  more  cer 
tain  than  the  other. 

Therefore,  how  many,  how  great,  and  how  ex- 
tenfive  foever  the  confequences  of  the  Volitions 
of  moral  Agents  may  be  j  though  they  mould 
extend  to  an  alteration  of  the  flate  of  things  thro* 
the  univerfe,  and  fhould  be  continued  in  a  feries 
of  fuccefiive  events  to  all  eternity,  and  mould  in 
the  progrefs  of  things  branch  forth  into  an  in 
finite  number  of  feries,  each  of  them  going  on 
in  an  endlefs  line  or  chain  of  events  ;  God  mull 
be  as  ignorant  of  all  thefe  confequences,  as  He  is 
of  the  Volition  whence  they  fir  ft  take  their  rife : 
all  thefe  events,  and  the  whole  ftate  of  things  de 
pending  on  them,  how  important,  extenfive  and 
vaft  foever,  mufl  be  hid  from  him. 

Thefe  portions  being  fuch  as,  I  fuppofe,  none 
will  deny,  I  now  proceed  to  obferve  the  follow 
ing  things. 

i.  Men's  moral  conduct  and  qualities,  their 
virtues  and  vices,  their  wickednefs  and  good 
pra&ice,  things  rewardable  and  punifhable,  have 
often  been  foretold  by  God.  —  Pharaoh's  moral 
conduct,  in  refilling  to  obey  God's  command,  in 
letting  his  people  go,  was  foretold.  God  fays  to 
Mofes,  Exod.  iii.  19.  I  am  fetre,  that  the  King  of 
Egypt  will  not  let  you  go.  Here  God  profefles 
not  only  to  guefs  at,  but  to  know  Pharoah's  fu 
ture  difobedience.  In  chap.  vii.  4,  God  fays,  but 
Pharaoh  Jhatt  not  hearken  unto  you ;  that  1  may  lay 
mine  hand  upon  Egypt,  &:c.  And  chap.  ix.  30, 
Mofes  fays  to  Pharaoh,  as  for  thse^  and  thy  few  ants  ^ 
I  KNOW  that  ye  will  not  fear  the  Lord.  See  alfo 
chap.  xi.  9, — The  moral,  conduct  of  Jofiah,  by 

name. 


140  GOD  certainly  foreknows         Part  II. 

name,  in  his  zealoufly  exerting  himfelf  in  oppo- 
fition  to  idolatry,  in  particular  acts  of  his,  was 
foretold  above  three  hundred  years  before  he  was 
born,  and  the  prophecy  fealed  by  a  miracle,  and 
renewed  and  confirmed  by  the  v/ords  of  a  fecond 
prophet,  as  what  lurely  would  not  fail,  i  Kings  xiii. 

i 6,  32.     This  prophecy  was  alfo  in  effect 

a  prediction  of  the  moral  conduct  of  the  people, 
in  upholding  their  fchifmatical  and  idolatrous 
worfhip  until  that  time,  and  the  idolatry  of  thofe 
priefts  of  the  high  places,  which  it  is  foretold 

jfefiab  mould  offer  upon  that  altar  of  BetbeL 

Mlcaiah  foretold  the  foolifh  and  finful  conduct  of 
Abctb,  in  refufing  to  hearken  to  the  Word  of  the 
Lord  by  him,  and  chufing  rather  to  hearken  to  the 
falfe  prophets,  in  going  to  Ramotb-Gilead  to  his 
ruin,  i  Kings  xxi.  20,— 22. — The  moral  con 
duct  of  Hazad  was  foretold,  in  that  cruelty  he 
fhould  be  guilty  of;  on  which  Hazael  fays,  What, 
is  tby  fervant  a  dog,  that  he  Jbould  do  this  thing ! 
The  prophet  fpeaks  of  the  event  as  what  he  knew, 
and  not  what  he  conjectured,  2  Kings  viii.  12. 
/  know  the  evil  that  thou  wilt  do  unto  the  children  of 
Ifrael :  Tbou  wilt  dajh  their  children,  and  rip  up  their 
women  with  child — The  moral  conduct  of  Cyrus 
is  foretold,  long  before  he  had  a  being,  in  his 
mercy  to  God's  people,  and  regard  to  the  true 
God,  in  turning  the  captivity  of  the  Jews,  and 
promoting  the  building  of  the  Temple,  Ifai.  xliv. 
28.  and  Ixv.  13.  Compare  2  Chron.  xxxvi  22,  23. 
and  Ezra  i.  i, — 4. — How  many  in  fiances  of  the 
moral  conduct  of  the  Kings  of  the  North  and  South, 
particular  inftances  of  the  wicked  behaviour  of 
the  Kings  of  Syria  and  Egypt,  are  foretold  in  the 
xith  chapter  of  Daniel?  Their  corruption,  vio 
lence,  robbery,  treachery,  and  lies.  And  par 
ticularly,  how  much  is  foretold  of  the  horrid 
wickednefs  of  Antiochus  Efipbanes9  called  there 

a  vile 


Sect.  XI.     the  Volitions  of  moral  Agents.  141 

a  vile  per/on,  inflead  of  Epiphanes,  or  illuftrious. 
In  that  chapter,  and  alfo  in  chap.  viii.  ver.  9, 
14,  23,  to  the  end,  are  foretold  his  flattery, 
deceit  and  lies,  his  having  his  heart  fet  to  do 
mifchief,  and  let  again/I  the  holy  covenant,  his  de- 
ftroying  and  treading  under  foot  the  holy  people,  in  a 
marvellous  manner,  his  having  indignation  againjl 
the  holy  covenant,  Jetting  his  heart  againjl  it,  and 
confpiring  againjl  it,  his  polluting  the  J'anftuary  of 
ftrength,  treading  it  under  foot,  taking  away  the 
daily  facrijice,  and  placing  the  abomination  that  ma- 
keth  defolate  ;  his  great  pride,  magnifying  himfelf 
again/I  God,  and  uttering  marvellous  blafphemies 
againjl  Him,  until  God  in  indignation  Jhould  de- 
Jlroy  him.  Withal,  the  moral  conduct  of  the 
Jews,  on  occafion  of  his  perfecution,  is  predicted. 
It  is  foretold,  that  he  Jhould  corrupt  many  by  flat 
teries,  chap.  xi.  32, — 34.  But  that  others  mould 
behave  with  a  glorious  conftancy  and  fortitude, 
in  oppofition  to  him,  ver.  32.  And  that  fome 
good  men  fhould  fall  and  repent,  ver.  35.  Chrift 
foretold  Peter's  fin,  in  denying  his  Lord,  with 
its  circumftances,  in  a  peremptory  manner.  And 
fo,  that  great  fin  of  Judas,  in  betraying  his  maf- 
ter,  and  its  dreadful  and  eternal  punimment  in 
hell,  was  foretold  in  the  like  pofitive  manner, 
Matt.  xxvi.  21, — 25.  and  parallel  places  in  the 
other  Evangelifls. 

2.  Many  events  have  been  foretold  by  God, 
which  are  confequent  and  dependent  on  the  mo 
ral  conduct  of  particular  perfons,  and  were  ac- 
complilhed,  either  by  their  virtuous  or  vicious 
actions. — Thus,  the  children  of  Ifrael's  going 
down  into  Egypt  to  dwell  there,  was  foretold  to 
Abraham,  Gen.  xv.  which  was  brought  about  by 
the  wickednefs  of  Jofeph's  brethren  in  felling  him, 
and  the  wickednefs  of  Jofeph's  miftrefs,  and  his 

own 


142  GOD  certainly  foreknows        Part  II. 

own  fignal  virtue  in  refilling  her  temptation. 
The  accomplifhment  of  the  thing  prefigured  in 
Jofeptfs  dream,  depended  on  the  fame  moral 
conduct.  Jotkam's  parable  and  prophecy,  Judges 
ix.  15, — 20.  was  accomplifhed  by  the  wicked 
conduct  of  Abimelecb,  and  the  men  of  Sbecbem. 
The  prophecies  againft  the  houfe  of  £//,  i  Sam. 
chap,  ii.  and  iii.  were  accomplifhed  by  the  wick- 
ednefs  of  Doeg  the  Edomite,  in  accufing  the  pricfls; 
and  the  great  impiety,  and  extreme  cruelty  of 
Saul  in  deflroying  th  pr.ih  at  Nob.  i  Sam.xxii. 
—Nathan's  prophecy  againfl  David,  2  Sam.  xii. 
n,  12.  was  fulfilled  by  the  horrible  wickednefs 
of  Abfalom^  in  rebelling  againft  his  father,  feck- 
ing  his  life,  and  lying  with  his  concubines  in 
the  fight  of  the  fun.  The  prophecy  againfl  Sa 
lomon,  i  Kings  xi.  n, — 13:  was  fulfilled  by  Je 
roboam's  rebellion  and  ufurpation,  which  are  fpo- 
ken  of  as  his  wickednefs,  2  Chron.  xiii.  5,  6. 
compare  ver.  18.  The  prophecy  againft  Jero 
boam's  family,  i  Kings  xiv.  was  fulfilled  by  the 
confpiracy,  trcafon,  and  cruel  murders  of  Baa- 
Jha,  2  Kings  xv.  27,  &c.  The  predictions  of  the 
prophet  Jehu  againft  the  houfe  of  Baafha^  i  Kings 
xvi.  at  the  beginning,  were  fulfilled  by  the 
treafon  and  parricide  of  Zimri,  i  Kings  xvi.  9, — 
13,  20. 

3.  How  often  has  God  foretold  the  future  mo 
ral  conduct  of  nations  and  people,  of  numbers, 
bodies,  and  fucceflions  of  men :  with  God's  ju 
dicial  proceedings,  and  many  other  events  con- 
fequent  and  dependent  on  their  virtues  and  vices ; 
which  could  not  be  foreknown,  if  the  Volitions 
of  men,  wherein  they  acted  as  moral  Agents,  had 
not  been  forefeen  ?  The  future  cruelty  of  the 
Egyptians  in  oppreffing  Ifrael9  and  God's  judging 
and  punifhing  them  for  it,  was  foretold  long  be- 
i  fore 


Sect.  XL    tfo  Volitions  of  moral  Agents.  1 43 

fore  it  came  to  pafs,  Gen.  xv.  13,  14.  The  con 
tinuance  of  the  iniquity  of  the  Amorites,  and  the 
increafe  of  it  until  itjbould  be  full,  and  they  ripe 
for  deftruction,  was  foretold  above  four  hundred 
years  before -hand,  Gen.  xv.  16.  Afts  vii.  6,  7. 
The  prophecies  of  the  deftruction  of  Jerufalem, 
and  the  land  of  Judah,  were  abfolute  ;  2  Kings 
xx.  17, — 19.  chap.  xxii.  15,  to  the  end.  It 
was  foretold  in  Hezekiah's  time,  and  was  abun 
dantly  infifted  on  in  the  book  of  the  prophet  Ifaiahf 
who  wrote  nothing  after  Hezekiab's  days.  It  was 
foretold  in  Jojiah's  time,  in  the  beginning  of  a 
great  reformation,  2  Kings  xxii.  And  it  is  manifeil 
by  innumerable  things  in  the  prediction  of  the 
prophets,  relating  to  this  event,  its  time,  its 
circumftances,  its  continuance  and  end ;  the  re 
turn  from  the  captivity,  the  reiteration  of  the 
temple,  city  and  land,  and  many  circumftances, 
and  confequences  of  that ;  I  fay,  thefe  Ihew 
plainly,  that  the  prophecies  of  this  great  event 
were  abfolute.  And  yet  this  event  was  connected 
with,  and  dependent  on  two  things  in  men's 
moral  conduct :  firft,  the  injurious  rapine  and 
violence  of  the  king  of  Babylon  and  his  people, 
as  the  efficient  caufe;  which  God  often  fpeaks  of 
as  what  he  highly  refented,  and  would  feverely 
punifli;  and  2dly,  the  final  obltinacy  of  the 
yews.  That  great  event  is  often  fpoken  of  as 
fufpended  on  this,  Jer.  iv.  i.  and  v.  i.  vii,  i, — 7. 
xi.  i, — 6.  xvii.  24,  to  the  end.  xxv.  i, — 7.  xxvi. 
i, — 8,  13.  and  xxxviii.  17,  18.  Therefore  this 
destruction  and  captivity  could  not  be  foreknown, 
unlefs  fuch  a  moral  conduct  of  the  Chaldeans  and 
Jews  had  been  foreknown.  And  then  it  was  fore 
told,  that  the  people  Jhould  be  finally  obftinate,  to 
the  deitruction  and  utter  defolation  of  the  city 
and  land.  I/at.  vi.  9, — n.  Jer.  i.  18,  19.  vii. 
27, — 29.  Ezek.  iii.  7.  and  xxiv.  13,  14. 

The 


144  GOD  certainly  foreknows.        Part  IT* 

The  final  obftinacy  of  thofe  Jews  who  were 
left  in  the  land  of  Ifrael^  in  their  idolatry  and  re 
jection  of  the  true  God,  was  foretold  by  God,  and 
the  prediction  confirmed  with  an  oath,  Jer.  xliv. 
26,  27.  And  God  tells  the  people,  Ifai.  xlviii.  3. 
4, — 8.  that  he  had  predided  thofe  things  which 
ihould  be  confeqnent  on  their  treachery'and  ob- 
ftinacy,  becaufe  he  knew  they  would  be  obfti- 
nate ;  and  that  he  had  declared  thefe  things  be 
fore-hand,  for  their  conviction  of  his  being  the 
only  true  God,  &c. 

The  deftruction  of  Babylon^  with  many  of  the 
circumilances  of  it,  was  foretold,  as  the  judg 
ment  of  God  for  the  exceeding  pride  and  haugh- 
tinefs  of  the  heads  of  that  monarchy,  Nebuchad 
nezzar ',  and  his  fucceflbrs,  and  their  wickedly 
deftroying  other  nations,  and  particularly  for  their 
exalting  themfelves  againft  the  true  God  and  his 
people,  before  any  of  thefe  monarchs  had  a  be 
ing  ;  Ifai.  chap,  xiii,  xiv,  xlvii :  compare  Hab 
it  ak.  ii.  5,  to  the  end,  and  Jer.  chap.  1.  and  15. 
That  Baby  lot? s  deft  ruction  was  to  be  a  recompence, 
according  to  the  works  of  their  own  hands^  appears 

by  Jer.  xxv.  14. The  immorality  with  which 

the  people  of  Babylon,  and  particularly  her  princes 
and  great  men,  were  guilty  of,  that  very  night 
that  the  city  was  deilroyed,  their  revelling  and 
drunken nefs  at  Balfhazzar's  idolatrous  feaft,  was 
foretold,  Jer.  li.  39,  57. 

The  return  of  the  Jews  from  the  Balylonljh 
captivity  is  often  very  particularly  foretold,  with 
many  circumitances,  and  the  promifes  of  it  are 
very  peremptory  ;  Jer.  xxxi.  35, — 40.  and  xxxii, 
6, — 15,  41, — 44.  and  xxxiii.  24, — 26.  And  the 
very  time  of  their  return  was  prefixed  ;  Jer. 
2  xxv. 


Sect.  XL     the  Volitions  of  moral -dgents. 
xxv.  ii,   12.  and  xxix.  10,  n.  2  Chron.  xxxvi. 
21.   EzeL'iv.  6.   and  Dan.  ix.  2.     And  yet  the 
prophecies  reprefent  their  return   as  confequent 
on   their  repentance.     And  their  repentance  it- 
felf  is  very  exprefsly  and  particularly  foretold, 
Jer.  xxix.  12,  13,  14.  xxxi.  8,  9,  18,- — 31.  xxxiii. 
8.  1.  4,  5.  Ezek.  vi.  8,  9,  10.  vii.  16.  xiv.  22,  23. 
and  xx.  43,  44. 

It  was  foretold  under  the  Old  Teftament,  that 
the  Median  fhould  fuffer  greatly  through  the  ma 
lice  and  cruelty  of  men ;  as  is  largely  and  fully 
-let  forth,  Pfal.  xxii.  applied  to  Chrift  in  the  New 
Teftament,  Matt,  xxvii.  35,  43.  Luke  xxiii.  34. 
John  xix.  24.  Heb.  ii.  12.  And  likewife  in  Pfal. 
Ixix.  which,  it  is  alfo  evident  by  the  New  Tefta- 
jnent,  is  fpoken  of  Chrift  ;  John  xv.  25.  vii.  5, 
&V.  and  ii.  17.  Ram.  xv.  $.Matt.  xxvii.  34,  48. 
Mark  xv.  23.  John  xix.  29.  The  fame  thing  is 
alfo  foretold,  Ifai.  liii.  and  1.  6.  and  Me.  v.  i. 
This  cruelty  of  men  was  their  fin,  and  what 
they  acted  as  moral  Agents.  It  was  foretold, 
that  there  fhould  be  an  union  of  Heathen  and 
Jewifh  rulers  againft  Chrift,  Pfal.  ii.  i,  2.  com 
pared  with  Atts  iv.  25,— 28.  It  was  foretold^  that 
the  Jews  fhould  generally  reject  and  defpiie  the 
Meffiah,  Ifai.  xiix.  5,  6,  7.  and  liii.  i, — 3.  Pfal. 
xxii.  6,  7.  and  Ixix.  4,  8,  19,  20.  And  it  was 
foretold,  that  the  body  of  that  nation  ftiould  be 
rejected  in  the  Mefliah's  days,  from  being  God's 
people,  for  their  obftinacy  in  fin ;  Ifai.  xlix.  4, 
• — 7.  and  viii.  14,  15,  16.  compared  with  Rom. 
x.  19,  and  Ifai.  Ixv.  at  the  beginning,  compared 
with  Rom.  x.  20,  21.  It  was  foretold,  that  Chrift 
Ihould  be  rejected  by  the  chief  priefts  and  rulers 
among  the  Jezvs*  Pfalm  cxviii.  22.  compared  with 
Matt*  xxi.  42.  4&i  iv,  ii.  i  Pet.  ii.  4,  7. 

L  Chrift 


146  GOD  certainly  foreknows       Part  II. 

Chritl  himfelf  foretold  his  being  delivered  into 
the  hands  of  the  elders,  chief  prieih  and  fcribes, 
and  his  being  cruelly  treated  by  them,  and  con 
demned  to  death  ;  and  that  He  by  them  fhould  be 
delivered  to  the  Gentiles :  and  that  He  fhould  be 
mocked  and  fcourged,  and  crucified,  (Matt.  xvi.  21. 
and  xx.  17, — 19.  Luke  ix.  22.  John  viii.  28.)  and 
that  the  people  mould  be  concerned  in  and  con- 
fenting  to  his  death,  (Luke  xx.  13, — 18.)  efpeci- 
ally  the  Inhabitants  of'Jeritfalem  -9  Luke  xiii.  33, 
— 35.  He  foretold,  [that  the  difciples  mould  all 
be  offended  becaufe  of  Him  that  night  that  he 
was  betrayed,  and  mould  forfake  him  ;  Matt.  xxvi. 
31.  John  xvi.  32.  He  foretold,  that  He  mould 
be  rejected  of  that  generation,  even  the  body  of 
the  people,  and  that  they  mould  continue  obfti* 
nate,  to  their  ruin-,  Matt.  xii.  45.  xxi.  33, — 42. 
and  xxii.  i, — 7.  Luke  xiii.  16,  21,  24.  xvii.  25. 
xix.  14,  27,  41, — 44.  xx.  13,— ^-i 8.  and  xxiiu 
34>— 39- 

As  it  was  foretold  in  both  Old  Teflament  and 
New,  that  the  Jews  mould  reject  the  Mefliah,  fo 
it  was  foretold  that  the  Gentiles  mould  receive 
Him,  and  fo  be  admitted  to  the  privileges  of 
God's  people ;  in  places  too  many  to  be  now  par 
ticularly  mentioned..  It  was  foretold  in  the  Old 
Teftament,  that  the  Jews  mould  envy  the  Gentiles 
on  this  account ;  Deut.  xxxii.  2 1 .  compared  with 
Rom.  x.  19.  Chrift  himfelf  often  foretold,  that 
the  Gentiles  would  embrace  the  true  religion,  and 
become  his  followers  and  people-,  Matt.  viii.  10, 
n,  12.  xxi.  41, — 43.  and  xxii.  8,— ip.  Lukexii]. 
28.  xiv,  1 6, — 24.  and  xx.  16.  John*.  16.  He 
alfo  foretold  the  Jews  envy  of  the  Gentiles  on  this 
occafion ;  Matt.  xx.  12, — 16.  Luke  xv.  26,  to 
the  end.  He  foretold,  that  they  fhould  continue 
in  this  oppofition  and  envy,  and  mould  mani- 

fcft 


Sect.  XL     the  Volitions  of  moral  Agents.  147 

fefl  it  in  the  cruel  perfections  of  his  followers^ 
to  their  utter  deftruction ;  Matt.  xxi.  33, — 42. 
xxii.  6,  and  xxiii.  34, — 39.  Luke  xi.  49, — 51. 
The  Jews  obflinacy  is  alfo  foretold,  Affs  xxii.  18. 
Chrifl  often  foretold  the  great  perfections  his 
followers  fhould  meet  with,  both  from  Jews  and 
Gentiles;  Matt.  x.  16, — 18,  21,  22,  34, — 36,  and 
xxiv.  9.  Mark  xiii.  9.  Z.«fo  x.  3.  xii.  1 i,  49, — 53. 
and  xxi.  12,  16,  17.  John  xv.  18, — 21.  and  xvi. 
I, — 4.  20, — 22,  23.  He  foretold  the  martyr 
dom  of  particular  perfons  ;  Matt.  xx.  23.  John 
xiii.  36.  and  xxi.  18,  19,22.  He  foretold  the 
great  fuccefs  of  the  Gofpel  in  the  city  of  Samaria, 
as  near  approaching ;  which  afterwards  was  ful 
filled  by  the  preaching  of  Philip,  John  iv.  35, — 
38.  He  foretold  the  rifing  of  many  deceivers 
after  his  departure.  Matt.  xxiv.  4,  5,  1 1 .  and  the 
apoilacy  of  many  of  his  profefTed  followers  ; 
Matt.  xxiv.  10, — 12. 

The  perfections,  which  the  apoflle  Paul  was 
to  meet  with  in  the  world,  were  foretold  •,  Atts 
ix.  1 6. — xx.  23,  and  xxi.  n.  The  apoftle  fays 
to  the  Chriftian  Epbejians,  Acts  xx.  29,  30.  1 'know , 
that  after  my  departure  JJoall  grievous  wolves  enter  in 
among  you,  not  fparing  the  flock  :  alfo  of  your  own 
f elves  Jhall  men  arife,  freaking  perverje  things ,  to  draw 
away  difciples  after  them.  The  apoftle  fays,  He 
knew  this :  but  he  did  not  know  it,  if  God  did 
not  know  the  future  actions  of  moral  Agents. 

4.  Unlefs  God  foreknows  the  future  acts  of 
moral  Agents,  all  the  prophecies  we  have  in 
Scripture  concerning  the  great  Antichriftian  apo 
ilacy  :  the  rife,  reign,  wicked  qualities,  and 
deeds  of  the  wan  of  Jin ,  and  his  instruments  and 
adherents ;  the  extent  and  long  continuance  of 

L  2  his 


148  GOD  certainly  foreknows  Part  II. 
his  dominion,  his  influence  on  the  minds  of 
princes  and  others,  to  corrupt  them,  and  draw 
them  away  to  idolatry,  and  other  foul  vices ;  his 
great  and  cruel  persecutions ;  the  behaviour  of 
the  faints  under  thefe  great  temptations,  &cc.  &c. 
I  fay,  nnlefs  the  Volitions'  of  moral  Agents  are 
forefeen,  all  thefe  prophecies  are  uttered  without 
knowing  the  things  foretold.  * 

The  predictions  relating  to  this  great  apoftacy 
are  all  of  a  moral  nature,  relating  to  men's  vir 
tues  and  vices,  and  their  exercifes,  fruits  and 
confequences,  and  events  depending  on  them  ; 
and  are  very  particular  ;  and  inofl  of  them  often 
repeated,  with  many  precife  characteristics,  de- 
fcriptions,  and  limitations  of  qualities,  conduct, 
Influence,  effects,  extent,  duration,  periods,  cir- 
pjmftances,  final  hTue,  &c.  which  it  \vould  be 
very  long  to  mention  particularly.  And  to  fnp- 
pofe,  all  thefe  arc  predicted  by  God  without  any 
certain  knowledge  of  the  future  moral  behaviour 
of  free  Agents,  would  be  to  the  utmoft  degree 
abfurd. 

5.  Unlefs  God  foreknows  the  future  acts  of 
men's  wills,  and  their  behaviour  as  irioral  Agents, 
all  thofe  great  things  which  are  foretold  in 
both  Old  Teilamcnt  and  New  concerning  the 
erection,  eftablifhment,  and  univerfal  extent  of 
the  Kingdom  of  the  Meffiah^  were  predicted  and 
promifed  while  God  was  in  ignorance  whether 
any  of  thefe  things  would  come  to  pafs  or  no,  and 
did  but  guefs  at  them.  For  that  kingdom  is  not 
of  this  world,  it  does  not  confiil  in  things  exter 
nal,  but  is  within  men,  and  confifts  in  the  do 
minion  of  virtue  in  their  hearts,  in  righteouf- 
nefs,  and  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghoft; 
and  in  thefe  things  made  manifeft  in  practice,  to 

the 


Sect.  XL      tie  Volitions  of  moral  Agents.          149 

the  praife  and  glory  of  God.  The  Meffiah  came 
tofave  men  from  their  fins,  and  deliver  them  from 
their  fpi ritual  enemies  ;  that  they  might  ferve  him  in 
rightecufnefs  and  holinefs  before  him  :  he  gave  him- 
f elf  for  «/,  that  he  might  redeem  us  from  all  iniquity , 
and  purify  unto  himfelf  a  peculiar  people ,  zealous  of 
good  works.  And  therefore  his  fuccefs  confifts  in 
gaining  men's  hearts  to  virtue,  in  their  being 
made  God's  willing  people  in  the  day  of  his  power. 
His  conqueft  of  his  enemies  confifts  in  his  vic 
tory  over  men's  corruptions  and  vices.  And  fuch 
fuccefs,  fuch  victory,  and  fuch  a  reign  and  do 
minion  is  often  exprefsly  foretold:  that  his  king 
dom  Jhall  fill  the  earth  ;  that  all  people,  nations 
and  languages  JJjould  ferve  and  obey  him  :  and  fo 
that  all  nations  Jhould  go  up  to  the  mountain  of  the 
Houfe  of  the  Lord,  that  he  might  teach  them  his 
ways,  and  that  they  might  walk  in  his  paths :  and 
that  all  men  Jhould  be  drawn  to  Chrift,  and  the  earth 
be  full  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Lord  (by  which,  in 
the  ftyle  of  Scripture,  is  meant  true  virtue  and 
religion)  as  the  waters  cover  the  feas  ;  that  God9 3 
law  Jlwuld  be  put  into  men's  inward  parts,  and  writ 
ten  in  their  hearts  -,  and  that  God's  people  Jhould  be 
all  righteous-,  >&c.  &c. 

A  very  great  part  of  the  prophecies  of  the 
Old  Teftament  is  taken  up  in  fuch  predictions  as 
thefe. — And  here  I  would  obferve,  that  the  pro 
phecies  of  the  univerfal  prevalence  of  the  king 
dom  of  the  Mefliah,  and  true  religion  of  Jefus 
Chrift,  are  delivered  in  the  moft  peremptory  man 
ner,  and  confirmed  by  the  oath  of  God,  If  at.  xlv. 
22,  to  the  end,  Look  to  me,  and  be  ye  faved,  all  the 
ends  of  the  earth  -,  for  I  am  God,  and  there  is  none 
fife.  I  have  SWORN  by  my  Self,  the  word  is  gone 
out  of  my  mouth  in  right eoufnefs,  and  Jhall  not  re- 
that  unto  Me  every  knee  Jhall  bow ;  and  every 
L  3  tongue 


150  GOD  certainly  foreknows        Part  II. 

tongue  Jhatt  fwear.  SURELT,  jhall  one  fay ',  in  the 
Lord  have  I  righteoufnefs  and  ftrength  :  even  to  Him 
Jkall  men  come,  &c.  But  here  this  peremptory  de 
claration,  and  great  oath  of  the  Moft  High,  are 
delivered  with  fuch  mighty  folemnity,  to  things 
which  God  did  not  know,  if  he  did  not  certainly 
forefee  the  Volitions  of  moral  Agents. 

And  all  the  predictions  of  Chrift  and  his  apof- 
tles,  to  the  like  purpofe,  muft  be  without  know 
ledge  :  as  thofe  of  our  Saviour  comparing  the 
kingdom  of  God  to  a  grain  of  muftard-feed, 
growing  exceeding  great,  from  a  fmall  begin 
ning;  and  to  leaven,  hid  in  three  meafures  of 

meal,  until  the  whole  was  leavened,  &c. And 

the  prophecies  in  the  epiftles  concerning  the 
reftoration  of  the  nation  of  the  Jews  to  the  true 
church  of  God,  and  the  bringing  in  the  fulnefs 
of  the  Gentiles ;  and  the  prophecies  in  all  the  Re- 
relation  concerning  the  glorious  change  in  the 
moral  ftate  of  the  world  of  mankind,  attending 
the  deftru&ion  of  Antichrift,  the  kingdoms  of  the 
world  becoming  the  kingdoms  of  our  Lord  and  of  his 
Chrift ;  and  its  being  granted  to  the  church  to  le  ar 
rayed  in  that  fine  linen,  white  and  clean,  which  is  the 
righteoufnefs  of  faints,  &c. 

Corol.  i.  Hence  that  great  promife,and  oath  of 
God  to  Abraham,  Ifaac  and  Jacob,  fo  much  cele 
brated  in  Scripture,  both  in  the  Old  Teftament 
q.nd  New,  namely 5  That  in  their  feed  all  the  na 
tions  and  families  of  the  earth  fhould  be  bleffed,  muft 
be  made  on  uncertainties,  if  God  does  not  cer 
tainly  foreknow  the  Volitions  of  moral  Agents. 
For  the  fulfilment  of  this  promife  confifts  in  that 
fuccefs  of  Chrift  in  the  work  of  redemption,  and 
that  fetting  up  of  his  fpiritual  kingdom  over  the 
pations  of  the  .world,  which  has  been  fpoken  of. 

Men, 


. 


Sect  XL     ih'e 'Volitions  of  moral  Agents*.  151 

Men  are  llejfed  in  Chrift  no  otherwife  than  as  they 
are  brought  to  acknowledge  Him,  truft  in  Him, 
love  and  ferve  Him,  as  is'  represented  and  pre- 
di&ed  in  Pfal.  Ixxii.  n.  All  Kings  Jhall  fall  down 
before  Him  ;  all  nations  Jhall  ferve  Him.  With 
ver.  17.  Men  flail  be  bleffed  in  Him\  all  nations 
jhall  call  Him  blejjed.  This  oath  to  Jacob  and 
Abraham  is  fulfilled  in  fubduing  men's  iniquities-, 
as  is  implied  in  that  of  the  prophet  Micab,  chap, 
vii.  19,  20. 

Corol  2.  Hence  alfo  it  appears,  that  firft  gof- 
pel-promife  that  ever  was  made  to  mankind,  that 
great  prediction  of  the  falvation  of  the  Mefiiah, 
and  his  victory  over  Satan,  made  to  our  firlt  pa 
rents,  Gen.  iii,  15.  if  there  be  no  certain  prefci- 
ence  of  the  Volitions  of  moral  Agents,  muft 
have  no  better  foundation  than  conjecture.  For 
Chrift's  victory  over  Satan  confifts  in  men's  be 
ing  faved  from  fin,  and  in  the  vi&ory  of  virtue 
and  holinefs,  over  that  vice  and  wickednefs, 
which  Satan,  by  his  temptation  has  introduced^ 
and  wherein  his  kingdom  confifts. 

6.  If  it  be  fo,  that  God  has  not  a  prefcience  of 
the  future  actions  of  moral  Agents,  it  will  fol 
low,  that  the  prophecies  of  Scripture  in  general 
are  without  Fore- knowledge.  For  Scripture-pro 
phecies,  almoft  all  of  them,  it  not  univerfally 
without  any  exception,  are  either  predictions  of 
the  actings  and  behaviours  of  moral  Agents,  or 
of  events  depending  on  them,  or  fome  way  con 
nected  with  them;  judicial  difpenfations,  judg 
ments  on  men  for  their  wickednefs,  or  rewards 
of  virtue  and  righteoufnefs,  remarkable  mani- 
feflations  of  favour  to  the  righteous,  or  mani- 
feftations  of  fovereign  mercy  to  fmners,  forgiving 
their  iniquities,  and  magnifying  the  riches  of  cti- 
L  4.  yinq 


152  GOJ)  certainly  foreknows  Part  II. 
vine  Grace ;  or  difpenfations  of  Providence,  in 
fome  refpedl  or  other,  relating  to  the  conduct  of 
the  fubjects  of  God's  moral  government,  wifely 
adapted  thereto  ^  either  providing  for  what  mould 
be  in  a  future  itate  of  things,  through  the  Voli 
tions  and  voluntary  aftions  of  moral  Agents,  or 
confequent  upon  them,  and  regulated  and  ordered 
according  to  them.  So  that  all  events  that  are 
foretold,  are  either  moral  events,  or  other  events 
which  are  connected  with,  and  accommodated 
to  moral  events. 

That  the  predictions  of  Scripture  in  general 
muft  be  without  knowledge,  if  God  does  not  fore- 
fee  the  Volitions  of  men,  will  further  appear,  if  it 
be  confidered,  that  almoft  all  events  belonging 
to  the  future  flate  of  the  world  of  mankind,  the 
changes  and  revolutions  which  come  to  pafs  in 
empires,,  kingdoms,  and  nations,  and  all  fq- 
fieties,  depend  innumerable  ways  on  the  acts  of 
men's  wills;  yea,  on  an  in-numerable  multitude 
of  millions  of  millions  of  Volitions  of  mankind. 
Such  is  the  ilate  and  courfe  of  things  in  the  world 
of  mankind,  that  one  fingle  event,  which  appears 
in  itfelf  exceeding  inconliderable,  may,  in  the 
progrefs  and  feries  of  things,  occafion  a  fuccefllon 
of  the  greateft  and  moft  important  and  extenfive 
events  ;  caufing  the  ftate  of  mankind  to  be  vaftly 
different  from  what  it  would  otherwife  have  been, 
for  all  fucceeding  generations. 

For  inftance,  the  coming  into  exigence  of  thofe 
particular  men,  who  have  been  the  great  con 
querors  of  the  world,  which,  under  God,  have 
had  the  main  hand  in  all  the  confequent  flate  of 
the  world,  in,  all  after-ages ;  fuch  as  Nebuchad- 
Mzzar,  Cyrus,  Alexander •,  Pompey,  Julius  C<efary  &c. 
Undoubtedly  depended  on  many  millions  of  ads 

of 


Sect.  XI.     the  Volitions  of  moral  Agents.  153 

of  the  will,  which  followed,  and  were  occafioneot 
one  by  another,  in  their  parents.  And  perhaps 
mod  of  thefe  Volitions  depended  on  millions  of 
Volitions  of  hundreds  and  thonfands  of  others, 
their  contemporaries  of  the  fame  generation  ;  and 
moft  of  thefe  on  millions  of  millions  of  Volitions 
of  others  in  preceding  generations. — As  we  go 
back,  ftill  the  number  of  Volitions,  which  were 
fome  way  the  occafion  of  the  event,  multiply  as 
the  branches  of  a  river,  until  they  come  at  laft, 
as  ic  were,  to  an  infinite  number.  This  will  not 
feetn  ftrange,  to  any  one  who  well  confiders  the 
matter ;  if  we  recollect  what  philofophers  tell  us 
of  the  innumerable  multitudes  of  thofe  things 
which  are,  as  it  were,  the  principle  or  ftamma 
•vita  *  concerned  in  generation ;  the  ammalcula  in 
femen  mafculo,  and  the  ova  in  the  womb  of  the 
female  ;  the  impregnation,  or  animating  of  one 
of  thefe  in  diftinction  from  all  the  reft,  muft  de 
pend  on  things  infinitely  minute,  relating  to  the 
time  and  circumftances  of  the  act  of  the  pa* 
rents,  the  ftate  of  their  bodies,  &c.  which  muft 
depend  on  innumerable  foregoing  circumftances 
and  occurrences ;  which  muft  depend,  infinite 
ways,  on  foregoing  acts  of  their  wills ;  which 
are  occafioned  by  innumerable  things  that  happen 
in  the  courfe  of  their  lives,  in  which  their  own, 
and  their  neighbour's  behaviour,  muft  have  a 
hand,  an  infinite  number  of  ways.  And  as  the 
Volitions  of  others  muft  be  fo  many  ways  con 
cerned  in  the  conception  and  birth  of  fuch  men  ; 
fo,  no  lefs,  in  their  prefervation,  and  circum 
ftances  of  life,  their  particular  determinations 
and  actions,  on  which  the  great  revolutions  they 
were  the  occafions  of,  depended.  As,  for  inftance, 
when  the  confpirators  in  Per/la^  againft  the  Magi% 
were  confulting  about  a  fucceflion  to  the  empire, 
it  came  into  the  mind  of  one  of  them,  to  propofe, 

that 


ij4  GOD  certainly  foreknows       Part  II. 

that  he  whofe  horfe  neighed  firft,  when  they  came 
together  the  next  morning,  fhould  be  king.  Now 
luch  a  thing's  coming  into  his  mind,  might  de 
pend  on  innumerable  incidents,  wherein  the  Voli 
tions  of  mankind  had  been  concerned.  But,  in 
confcquence  of  this  accident,  Darius,  the  fon  of 
Hiftafpes,  was  king.  And  if  this  had  not  been, 
probably  his  fucceflbr  would  not  have  been  the 
lame,  and  all  the  circumflances  of  the  Perfian 
empire  might  have  been  far  other  wife.  And  then 
perhaps  Alexander  might  never  have  conquered 
that  empire.  And  then  probably  the  circum- 
liances  of  the  world  in  all  fucceeding  ages,  might 
have  been  vaflly  otherwife.  I  might  further  in- 
flance  in  many  other  occurrences ;  fuch  as  thofe 
on  w;hich  depended  Alexander's  prefervarion,  in 
the  many  critical  junctures  of  his  life,  wherein 
a  fmall  trifle  would  have  turned  the  fcale  againft 
him  ;  and  the  prefervation  and  fuccefs  of  the  Ro 
man  people,  in  the  infancy  of  their  kingdom  and 
common-wealth,  and  afterwards ;  which  all  the 
fucceeding  changes  in  their  Hate,  and  the  mighty 
revolutions  that  afterwards  came  to  pafs  in  the 
habitable  world,  depended  upon.  But  thefc 
hints  may  be  fufficient  for  every  difcerning  confi- 
derate  perfon,  to  convince  him,  that  the  whole 
iiate  of  the  world  of  mankind,  in  all  ages,  and 
the  very  being  of  every  perfon  who  has  ever  lived 
in  it,  in  every  age,  fince  the  times  of  the  an 
cient  prophets,  has  depended  on  more  Volitions, 
or  acts  of  the  wills  of  men,  than  there  are  fands 
on  the  fea-fhore. 

And  therefore,  unlefs  God  does  molt  exactly 
and  perfectly  forefee  the  future  acts  of  men's 
v/ills,  all  the  predictions  which  he  ever  uttered 
concerning  David,  Hezekiah,  Jofiab,  Nebuchad 
nezzar,  Cyrus,  Alexander ;  concerning  the  four  mo- 

narchiesa 


Sett.  XI.  the  Volitions  of  moral  Agents.  1 55 
narchies,  and  the  revolutions  in  them ;  and  con 
cerning  all  the  wars,  commotions,  victories,  pro- 
fperities  and  calamities,  of  any  of  the  kingdoms, 
nations  or  communities  of  the  world,  have  all 
been  without  knowledge. 

So  that,  according  to  this  notion  of  God's  not 
forefeeing  the  Volitions  and  free  actions  of  men, 
God  could  forefee  nothing  appertaining  to  the  flate 
of  the  world  of  mankind  in  future  ages ;  not  fo 
much  as  the  being  of  one  perfon  that  mould  live 
in  it ;  and  could  foreknow  no  events,  but  only 
fuch  as  He  would  bring  to  pals  Himfelf  by 
the  extraordinary  interpofition  of  his  immediate 
power  ;  or  things  which  fhould  come  to  pafs  in 
the  natural  material  world,  by  the  laws  of  mo 
tion,  and  courfe  of  nature,  wherein  that  is  inde 
pendent  on  the  actions  or  works  of  mankind : 
that  is,  as  he  might,  like  a  very  able  mathema 
tician  and  aftronomer,  with  great  exactnefs  cal 
culate  the  revolutions  of  the  heavenly  bodies, 
and  the  greater  wheels  of  the  machine  of  the  ex 
ternal  creation. 

*  And  if  we  clofely  confider  the  matter,  there 
will  appear  reafon  to  convince  us,  that  he  could 
not,  with  any  abfolute  certainty  forefee  even  thele. 
As  to  the  firftt  namely,  things  done  by  the  im 
mediate  and  extraordinary  interpofition  of  God's 
power,  thefe  cannot  be  forefeen,  unlefs  it  can  be 
forefeen  when  there  ihall  be  occafion  for  fuch  ex 
traordinary  interpofition.  And  that  cannot  be 
forefeen,  unlefs  the  ftate  of  the  moral  world  can 
be  forefeen.  For  whenever  God  thus  interpofes, 
it  is  with  regard  to  the  ftate  of  the  moral  world, 
requiring  fuch  divine  interpofition.  Thus  God 
could  not  certainly  forefee  the  univerfal  deluge, 
the  calling  of  Abraham,  the  deftruction  of  Sodom 

and 


GOD  certainly  foreknows        Part  II. 

and  Gomorrah,  the  plagues  on  Egypt,  and  IfraeFs 
redemption  out  of  it,  the  expelling  the  feven 
nations  of  Canaan,  and  the  bringing  Jfrael  into* 
that,  land ;  for  thefe  all  are  reprefented  as  con 
nected  with  things  belonging  to  the  ftate  of  the 
moral  world.  Nor  can  God  foreknow  the  moft 
proper  and  convenient  time  of  the  day  of  judg 
ment  and  general  conflagration  ;  for  that  chiefly 
depends  on  the  courfe  and  ftate  of  things  in  the 
moral  world. 

Nor,  Secondly,  can  we  on  this  fuppofition  rea- 
fonably  think,  that  God  can  certainly  forefee  what 
things  mall  come  to  pafs,  in  the  courfe  of  things, 
in  the  natural  and  material  world,  even  thofe 
which  in  an  ordinary  ftate  of  things  might  be 
calculated  by  a  good  aftronomer.  For  the  mo 
ral  world  is  the  end  of  the  natural  world ;  and 
the  courfe  of  things  in  the  former,  is  undoubt 
edly  fnbordinate  to  God's  defigns  with  refpect 
to  the  latter.  Therefore  he  has  feen  caufe,  from 
regard  to  the  ftate  of  things  in  the  moral  world, 
extraordinarily  to  interpofe,  to  interrupt  and 
lay  an  arreft  on  the  courfe  of  things  in  the  na 
tural  world ;  and  even  in  the  greater  wheels  of 
ks  motion  ;  even  fo  as  to  flop  the  fun  in  its 
courfe.  And  unlefs  he  can  forefee  the  Volitions 
of  men,  and  fo  know  fomething  of  the  future 
ftate  of  the  moral  world,  He  cannot  know  but 
that  he  may  ftill  have  as  great  occaiion  to  inter 
pofe  in  this  manner,  as  ever  he  had  :  nor  can  He 
forefee  how,  or  when,  He  mail  have  occafion 
thus  to  interpofe. 

CoroL  i.  It  appears  from  the  things  which 
have  been  obierved,  that  unlefs  God  forefees  the 
Volitions  of  moral  Agents,  that  cannot  be  true 
which  is  obfcrved  by  the  apoftle  James 3  Acts  xv. 


Sect.  XI.    tie  Volitions  of  moral  Agents.  157 

1 8.  Known  unto  God  are  all  bis  works  from  the  be 
ginning  of  the  world. 

Corol.  2.  It  appears  from  what  has  been  ob- 
ferved,  that  unlefs  God  foreknows  the  Volitions 
of  moral  Agents,  all  the  prophecies  of  Scripture 
have  no  better  foundation  than  meer  conjec 
ture  ;  and  That,  in  mod  inftances,  a  conjecture 
which  muft  have  the  utmoft  uncertainty  -9  de 
pending  on  an  innumerable,  and,  as  k  were,  in 
finite  multitude  of  Volitions,  which  are  all,  even 
to  God,  uncertain  events :  however,  thefe  pro 
phecies  are  delivered  as  abfolute  predictions,  and 
very  many  of  them  in  the  moft  pofitive  manner, 
with  afleverations ;  and  fome  of  them  with  the 
moil  folermi  oaths. 

CoroL  3.  It  alfo  follows,  from  what  has  been 
obferved,  that  if  this  notion  of  God's  ignorance 
ot  future  Volitions  be  true,  in  vain  did  Chriftfay 
(after  uttering  many  great  and  important  predic 
tions,  concerning  God's  moral  kingdom,  and 
things  depending  on  men's  moral  actions)  Matt. 
xx iv.  35.  Heaven  and  earth  Jhall  pafs  away  ;  but 
my  wordsfoall  not  pajs  way. 

Corol.  4.  From  the  fame  notion  of  God's  igno 
rance,  it  would  follow,  that  in  vain  has  God  Him- 
felf  often  fpoken  of  the  predictions  of  his  word, 
as  evidences  of  Foreknowledge  ;  and  fo  as  evi 
dences  of  that  which  is  his  prerogative  as  GOD, 
and  his  peculiar  glory,  greatly  diftingurming 
Him  from  all  other  beings-,  as  in  Ifai.  xli.  22. — 26. 
xliii.  9, 10.  xliv.  S.xlv.  21.  xlvi.  10.  andxlviii.  14. 

ARGUM.  II.  If  God  does  not  foreknow  the  Voli 
tions  of  moral  Agents,  then  he  did  not  foreknow 
the  fall  of  man,  nor  of  angels,  and  fo  could  not 

fore- 


GOD  certainly  foreknows         Part  IL 

foreknow  the  great  things  which  are  confequent  on 
thefe  events  ;  fuch  as  his  fending  his  Son  into 
the  world  to  die  for  finners,  and  all  things  per 
taining  to  the  great  work  of  redemption  ;  all  the 
things  which  were  done  for  four  thoufand  years 
before  Chrift  came,  to  prepare  the  way  for  it ; 
and  the  incarnation,  life,  death,  refurrediion 
and  afceniion  of  ChriO:;  and  the  fetting  Him  at 
the  head  of  the  univerfe,  as  King  of  heaven  and 
earth,  angels  and  men ;  and  the  fetting  up  His 
church  and  kingdom  in  this  world,  and  appoint 
ing  Him  the  Judge  of  the  world ;  and  all  that 
Satan  mould  do  in  the  world  in  oppofition  to  the 
kingdom  of  Chrift :  and  the  great  tranfatftions 
of  the  day  of  judgment,  that  men  and  devils 
mail  be  thefubjedts  of,  and  angels  concerned  in  ; 
they  are  all  what  God  was  ignorant  of  before  the 
fall.  And  if  fo,  the  following  Scriptures,  and 
others  like  them,  muft  be  without  any  meaning, 
or  contrary  to  truth.  Eph.  i.  4.  According  as  he 
hath  chofen  us  in  Him  before  the  foundation  of  the 
•world,  i  Pet.  i.  20.  Who  verily  was  for e: ordained, 
before  the  foundation  of  the  world.  2  Tim.  i.  9. 
Who  hath  fa<ved  us,  and  called  us  with  an  holy  call-  ' 
ing  \  not  according  to  our  works,  but  according  to  his 
own  pvrPoft)  and  grace,  winch  was  given  us  in  Chrift 
jFefus  be j  ore  the  world  began.  So,  Eph.  iii.  i  r. 
{fpeaking  of  the  wifdom  of  God  in  the  work  of 
redemption)  according  to  the  eternal  purpofe  which 
he  purpofid  in  Chrift  Jcfus.  Tit,  i.  2.  In  hope  of 
eternal  life,  which  God  that  cannot  lie,  premifed  be 
fore  the  world  began.  Rom.  viii.  29.  Whom  he  did 
foreknow,  them  he  alfo  didpredejtinate,  &c.  .1  Pet.  i. 
2.  Eleft,  according  to  the  Foreknowledge  of  God  the 
Father. 

If  God  did  not  foreknow  the  fall  of  man,  nor 
the  redemption  by  Jefus  Chrift,  nor  the  Volitions 

of 


Sect.  XI.     the  Volitions  of  moral  Agents.  159 

of  man  fince  the  fall ;  then  he  did  not  foreknow 
the  faints  in  any  fenfe  ;  neither  as  particular  per- 
fons,  nor  as  focieties  or  nations ;  either  by  elec 
tion,  or  meer  forefight  of  their  virtue  or  good 
works  ;  or  any  forefight  of  any  thing  about  them 
relating  to  their  falvation ;  or  any  benefit  they 
have  by  Chrift,  or  any  manner  of  concern  of 
their's  with  a  Redeemer. 

ARC.  III.  On  the  fuppofition  of  God's  igno 
rance  of  the  future  Volitions  of  free  Agents,  it  will 
follow,  that  God  muft  in  many  cafes  truly  repent 
what  He  has  done,  fo  as  properly  to  wifh  He 
had  done  otherwife  :  by  reafon  that  the  event  of 
things,  in  thofe  affairs  which  are  moft  impor 
tant,  viz.  the  affairs  of  his  moral  kingdom,  be 
ing  uncertain  and  contingent,  often  happens  quite 
otherwife  than  he  was  aware  before-hand.  And 
there  would  be  reafon  to  underftand,  that  in  the 
molt  literal  fenfe,  in  Gen.  vi.  6.  //  repented  the 
Lord,  that  he  had  made  man  on  the  earth^  and  it 
grieved  him  at  his  heart.  And  that  i  Sam.  xv.  1 1 . 
contrary  to  that,  Numb,  xxiii.  19.  God  is  not  the 
Son  of  Man,  that  He  Jbould  repent.  And  i  Sam.  xv. 
15,  29.  Alfo  the  ftrength  of  lirael  will  not  lie,  nor 
repent ;  for  He  is  not  a  man  that  He  Jbould  repent. 
Yea,  from  this  notion  it  would  follow,  that  God 
is  liable  to  repent  and  be  grieved  at  His  heart, 
in  a  literal  fenfe,  continually ;  and  is  always  ex- 
pofed  to  an  infinite  number  of  real  difappoint- 
ments  in  his  governing  the  world ;  and  to  mani 
fold,  conftant,  great  perplexity  and  vexation  : 
but  this  is  not  very  confident  with  his  title  of 
God  over  #//,  blejjed  for  evermore  •,  which  reprefents 
Him  as  poffeffed  of  perfect,  conftant,  and  unin 
terrupted  tranquility  and  felicity,  as  God  over 
the  univerfe,  and  in  his  rnanagement  of  the  af 
fairs  of  the  world,  as  fupreme  and  univerial 

Ruler. 


160          GOD  certainly  foreknows      Part  II. 

Ruler.  See  Rom.i.  25.  ix.  5.  2  Cor.  xi.  31.  j  Vim* 
vi.  15. 

ARC.  IV.  It  will  alfo  follow  from  this  notion, 
that  as  God  is  liable  to  be  continually  repenting 
what  He  has  done  ;  fo  He  mud  be  expofed  to  be 
conilantly  changing  his  mind  and  intentions,  as  to 
his  future  conduct ;  altering  his  meafures,  re- 
linquifhing  his  old  defigns,  and  forming  new 
fchemes  and  proje6tions.  For  his  purpcfes,  even 
as  to  the  main  parts  of  his  fcheme,  namely,  fuch 
as  belong  to  the  ftate  of  his  moral  kingdom, 
muft  be  always  liable  to  be  broken,  through  want 
of  forefight  j  and  he  muft  be  continually  putting 
his  fyflem  to  rights,  as  it  gets  out  of  order, 
through  the  contingence  of  the  actions  of  moral 
Agents  :  He  muft  be  a  Being,  who,  inftead  of 
being  abfolutely  immutable,  muft  necefTarily  be 
the  fubject  of  infinitely  the  moft  numerous  acts 
of  repentance,  and  changes  of  intention,  of  any 
being  whatfoever  ;  for  this  plain  rcafon,  that  his 
vaftly  cxtenlive  charge  comprehends  an  infinitely 
greater  number  of  thofe  things  which  are  to 
Him  contingent  and  uncertain.  In  fuch  a  fixa 
tion,  He  muft  have  little  elfe  to  do,  but  to  mend 
broken  links  as  well  as  he  can,  and  be  rectifying 
his  disjointed  frame  and  disordered  movements, 
in  the  beft  manner  the  cafe  will  allow.  The  Su 
preme  Lord  of  all  things  muft  needs  be  under 
great  and  miferable  difadvantages,  in  governing 
the  world  which  He  has  made,  and  has  the  care 
of,  through  his  being  utterly  unable  to  find  out 
things  of  chief  importance,  whkh  hereafter  fhall 
befall  his  fyftem  ;  which  if  He  did  but  know,  He 
might  make  feafonable  provifion  for.  In  many 
cafes,  there  may  be  very  great  necefiity  that  He 
ihould  make  provifion,  in'the  manner  of  his  or 
dering  and  difpofing  things,  for  fome  great  e- 

vents 


Sect.  XI.    tie  Volitions  of  moral  Agents.  1 6 1 

vents  which  are  to  happen,  of  vaft  and  extenfive 
influence,  and  endlefs  confequence  to  the  unU 
verfe ;  which  He  may  fee  afterwards,  when  it  is 
too  late,  and  may  wifh  in  vain  that  He  had  known 
before-hand,  that  He  might  have  ordered  his  af 
fairs  accordingly.  And  it  is  in  the  power  of 
man,  on  thefe  principles,  by  his  devices,  pur- 
pofes  and  actions,  thus  to  difappoint  God,  break 
his  meafures,  make  Him  continually  to  change 
his  mind,  fubject  Him  to  vexation,  and  bring 
Him  into  confufion. 

But  how  do  thefe  things  confift  with  reafon, 
or  with  the  Word  of  God  ?  Which  reprefents, 
that  all  God's  works,  all  that  He  has  ever  to  do, 
the  whole  fcheme  and  fcries  of  his  operations, 
are  from  the  beginning  perfectly  in  his  view  ;  and 
declares,  that  whatever  devices  and  defigns  are  in 
the  hearts  of  men,  the  counfel  of  the  Lord  is  that 
which  Jhall  ftand,  and  the  fhmghts  of  his  heart  to 
all  generations,  Prov.  xix.  21.  Pfal.  xxxiii.  10,  n. 
And  that  which  the  Lord  of  Hojls  hath  purpofed,  none 
fhall  dif annul  9  Ifai.  xiv.  27.  And  that  he  cannot  be 
fruftrated  In  one  dejign  or  thought.  Job  xlii.  2.  And 
that  which  God  doth,  itjhall  be  forever,  that  nothing 
can  be  put  to  it,  or  taken  from  it,  Eccl.  iii.  14.  The 
liability  and  perpetuity  of  God's  counfels  are  ex- 
prefsly  fpoken  of  as  connected  with  the  Foreknow 
ledge  of  God,  Ifaiabxlvi.  10.  Declaring  the  end 
from  the  beginning,  and  from  ancient  times  the  things 
that  are  not  yet  done ;  faying,  My  counj'd  foall  Jland, 
and  1  will  do  all  my  pleafure. — And  how  arc  thefe 
things  confident  with  what  the  Scripture  fays  of 
God's  immutability,  which  reprefents  Him  as 
without  variablenefs,  or  Jhadtftv  cf  turning ;  and 
ipeaks  of  Him  moft  particularly  as  unchangeable 
with  regard  to  his  purpofes,  Mai.  iii.  6.  /  am  the 
Lord  ;  I  change  not ;  therefore  ye  fons  <?f  Jacob  are 
M  not 


1 62  GOD  certainly  foreknows         Part  II, 

not  confumed.  Exod.  iii.  14.  I  AM  ¥  HAT  1  AM. 
Job  xxiii.  13,  14.  He  is  in  one  mind;  and  who  can 
turn  Him  ?  Andivkat  bis  foul  defireth,  even  that  he 
doth :  for  he  performeth  the  thing  that  is  appointed 
for  me. 

ARC.  V.  If  this  notion  of  God's  ignorance  of 
future  Volitions  of  moral  Agents  be  thoroughly 
confidered  in  its  confequences,  it  will  appear  to 
follow  from  it,  that  God,  after  he  had  made  the 
world,  was  liable  to  be  wholly  fruflrated  of  his 
endm  the  creation  of  it  •,  and  fo  has  been,  in  like 
manner,  liable  to  be  fruflrated  of  his  end  in  all 
the  gYcat  works,  He  hath  wrought.  It  is  mani- 
feft,  the  moral  world  is  the  end  of  the  natural : 
the  reft  of  the  creation  is  but  an  houfe  which 
God  hath  built,  with  furniture,  for  moral  Agents : 
and  the  good  or  bad  ftate  of  the  moral  world 
depends  on  the  improvement  they  make  of  their 
natural  Agency,  and  fo  depends  on  their  Voli 
tions.  And  therefore,  if  thefe  cannot  be  forefeen 
by  God,  becaufe  they  are  contingent,  and  fubjed: 
to  no  kind  of  neceffity,  then  the  affairs  of  the 
moral  world  are  liable  to  go  wrong,  to  any  afiign- 
able  degree;  yea,  liable  to  be  utterly  ruined. 
As  on  this  fcheme,  it  may  well  be  fuppofed  to  be 
literally  faid,  when  mankind,  by  the  abufe  of  their 
moral  Agency,  became  very  corrupt  before  the 
flood,  that  the  Lord  repented  that  he  had  made  man 
on  the  eartb^  and  it  grieved  Him  at  his  heart;  fo, 
when  He  made  the  univerfe,  He  did  not  know 
but  that  he  might  be  fo  difappointed  in  it,  that  it 
might  grieve  Him  at  his  heart  that  he  had  m.ade 
it.  It  actually  proved,  that  all  mankind  became 
finful,  and  a  very  great  part  of  the  angels  apof- 
tatifed  :  and  how  could  God  know  before-hand, 
that  all  of  them  would  not  ?  And  how  could  God 
know  but  that  all  mankind,  notwithftanding 

means 


Sc6t.  XL     tie  Volitions  of  moral  Agents.          163 

means  ufed  to  reclaim  them,  being  flill  left  to  the 
freedom  of  their  own  will,  would  continue  in 
their  apottacy,  and  grow  worfe  and  worfe,  as  they 
of  the  old  world  before  the  flood  did  ? 

According  to  the  fcheme  I  am  endeavouring  to 
confute,  neither  the  fall  of  men  nor  angels, 
could  be  forefeen,  and  God  mufl  be  greatly  dif- 
appointed  in  thefe  events ;  and  fo  the  grand 
fcheme  and  contrivance  for  our  redemption, 
and  deftroying  the  works  of  the  devil,  by  the 
Mefllah,  and  all  the  great  things  God  has  done 
in  the  profecution  of  thefe  defigns,  mufl  be  only 
the  fruits  of  his  own  difappointment,  and  con 
trivances  of  his  to  mend  and  patch  up,  as  well 
as  he  could,  his  fyitem,  which  originally  was  all 
very  good,  and  perfectly  beautiful;  but  was  marr'd, 
broken  and  confounded  by  the  free  will  of  an 
gels  and  men.  And  flill  he  mufl  be  liable  to  be 
totally  difappointed  a  fecond  time :  He  could  not: 
know,  that  He  fliould  have  his  defired  fuccefs, 
in  the  incarnation,  life,  death,  refurreclion  and 
exaltation  of  his  only  begotten  Son,  and  other 
great  works  accompliihed  to  reflore  the  flate  of 
things  :  he  could  not  know,  after  all,  whether 
there  would  actually  be  any  tolerable  meafurc  of 
refloration  •,  for  this  depended  on  the  free  will 
of  man.  There  has  been  a  general  great  apof- 
tacy  of  almofl  all  the  Chriflian  World,  to  that 
which  was  worfe  than  Heathenifm  ;  which  con 
tinued  for  many  ages.  And  how  could  God, 
without  forefeeing  men's  Volitions,  know  whether 
ever  Chriflendom  would  return  from  this  apof- 
tacy  ?  And  which  way  could  He  tell  before 
hand  how  foon  it  would  begin  ?  The  apoflle  fays, 
it  began  to  work  in  his  time  ;  and  how  could  it 
be  known  how  far  it  would  proceed  in  that  age  ? 
Yea,  how  could  it  be  known  that  the  Gofpei 
M  2  which 


164  Certain  Foreknowledge  Part  II. 

which  was  not  effectual  for  the  reformation  of 
the  Jews,  would  ever  be  effedhial  for  the  turning 
of  the  heathen  nations  from  their  heathen  apoi- 
tacy,  which  they  had  been  confirmed  in  for  Ib 
many  ages  ? 

It  is  reprefented  often  in  Scripture,  that  God, 
who  made  the  world  for  Himfelf,  and  created  it 
for  his  pleafure,  would  infallibly  obtain  his  end 
in  the  creation,  and  in  all  his  works ;  that  as  all 
things  are  of  Him,  fo  they  would  all  be  to  Him  ; 
and  that  in  the  final  iffue  of  things,  it  would  ap 
pear  that  He  is  tbefirft,  and  the  loft.  Rev.  xxi.  6. 
And  be  f aid  unto  me,  It  is  done.  I  am  Alpha  and 
Omega,  the  beginning  and  the  end,  the  frfi  and  the 
loft.  But  thefe  things  are  not  confident  with  Gcd'3 
being  fo  liable  to  be  difappointed  in  all  his  works, 
nor  indeed  with  his  failing  of  his  end  in  any  thing 
that  He  has  undertaken,  or  done. 


SECTION    XII. 

G  0  D  's  certain  Foreknowledge  of  the  future  vo 
litions  of  moral  agents,  inconfiftent  with  fitch  a 
Contingence  of  thofe  volitions,  as  is  without  all 
NecefTity. 

HAVING  proved,  that  GOD  has  a  certain 
and  infallible  Prefcience  of  the  act  of  the 
will  of  moral  agents,  I  come  now,  in  t\\s  fecond 
place,  to  Ihcw  the  confequence  ;  to  fhew  how  it 
follows  from  hence,  that  thefe  events  are  necejfary, 
with  a  Neceffity  of  connection  or  confequence. 

The  chief  Arminian  divines,  fo  far  as   I  have 
had  opportunity   to   obferve,    deny   this    conie- 
.quence ;  and  affirm,  that  if  iiich  Forknowledge 
j  be 


S*ct.  XII.        Infers  fame  Neceffity.  1 6* 

be  allowed,  it  is  no  evidence  of  any  Necefilty  of 
the  event  foreknown.  Now  I  defire,  that  this 
matter  may  be  particularly  and  thoroughly  en 
quired  into.  I  cannot  but  think,  that  on  parti 
cular  and  full  confideration,  it  may  be  perfectly 
determined,  whether  it  be  indeed  fo,  or  not. 

In  order  to  a  proper  confideration  of  this  mat 
ter,  I  would  obferve  the  following  things. 

I.  It  is  very  evident,  with  regard  to  a  thing 
whofe  exiftence  is  infallibly  and  indiflblubly  con 
nected  with  fomething  which  already  hath,  or  has 
had  exiftence,  the  exiftence  of  that  thing  is  ne- 
cefTary.  Here  may  be  noted, 

1.  I  obferved  before,  in  explaining  the  nature 
of  Necefiity,  that  in  things  which  are  paft,  their 
paft  exiftence  is  now  neceflary :  having  already 
made  fure  of  exiftence,  it  is  too  late  for  any  pof- 
fibility  of  alteration  in  that  refpect :  it  is  now 
impofTible  that  it  mould  be  otherwife  than  true, 
that  that  thing  has  exifted. 

2.  If  there  be  any  fuch  thing  as  a  divine  Fore 
knowledge  of  the  volitions  of  free  agents,  that 
Foreknowledge,  by   the  fuppofition,  is   a  thing 
which   already  to,  and  long  ago  had  exiftence  ; 
and  fo,  now  its  exiftence  is  neceflary  ;  it  is  now 
utterly  impoflible  to  be  otherwife,  than  that  this 
Foreknowledge  fhould  be,  or  fliould  have  been, 

3.  It  is  alfo  very  manifeft,  that  thofe  things 
which  are  indiflblubly  connected  with  other  things 
that  are  neceflary,  are  themfelves  neceflary.     As 
that  proportion  whofe  truth  is  neceflarjly  con 
nected  with  another  propofition,  which  is  necef- 
farily   true,    is   itfelf  neceflarily  true.     To  fay 

M  3  other- 


1 66  Certain  Foreknowledge          Part  II, 

OtherWifc,  would  be  a  contradidtion :  it  would  be 
in  effect  to  fay,  that  the  connexion  was  indiffo- 
luble,  and  yet  was  not  fo,  but  might  be  broken. 
If  That,  whofe  exiftence  is  indiffolubly  con-r 
ne&ed  with  fomething,  whofe  exigence  is  now 
neceflary,  is  itfelf  not  neceffary,  then  it  may  poft 
fibly  yot  exift,  notwithstanding  that  indiffoluble 
connection  of  its  exiftence.— Whether  the  abfurr 
dity  be  not  glaring,  let  the  reader  judge. 

4.  It  is  no  lefs  evident,  that  if  there  be  a  full, 
certain  and  infallible  Foreknowledge  of  the  future 
exiftence  of  the  volitions  of  moral  agepts,  then 
there  is  3.  certain  infallible  and  indiffoluble  con 
nection  between  thofe  events  and  that  Fore 
knowledge  ;  and  that  therefore,  by  the  preceding 
obfervations,  thofe  events  are  neceffary  events  i 
being  infallibly  and  indiffolubly  connected  with 
that,  whofe  exiftence  already  is,  and  fo  is  now 
neceffary,  and  cannot  but  have  been. 

To  fay,  the  Foreknowledge  is  certain  and  in 
fallible,  and  yet  the  connection  of  the  event  with 
that  Foreknowledge  is  not  indiffoluble,  but  diffo- 
3  able  and  fallible,  is  very  abfurd.  To  affirm  it, 
would  be  the  fame  thing  as  to  affirm,  that  there 
is  no  neceffary  connection  between  a  proportion's 
being  infallibly  known  to  be  true,  and  its  being 
true  indeed.  So  that  it  is  perfectly  demonftrable, 
that  if  there  be  any  infallible  knowledge  of  fu 
ture  volitions,  the  event  is  neceffary ;  or,  in  other 
words,  that  it  is  impojjible  but  the  event  ihould 
come  to  pafs.  For  it  it  be  not  irnpojlible  but 
that  it  may  be  otherwife,  then  it  is  not  iropof- 
iible,  but  that  the  propofition  which-  affirms  its 
future  coming  to  pafs,  may  not  now  be  true. 
But  how  abfurd  is  that,  on  the  fuppofition  that 
there  is  now  an  infallible  knowledge  (£.  e,  know 
ledge 


Sed.  XII.        infers  fome  Nccefiity.  16  7 

ledge  which  it  is  impoflible  fhould  fail)  that  it  is 
true.  There  is  this  abfurdity  in  it,  that  it  is  not 
impoflible,  but  that  there  now  fhould  be  no  truth 
in  that  proportion,  which  is  now  infallibly  known 
to  be  true. 

II.  That  no  future  event  can  be  certainly  fore 
known,  whofe  exiftence  is  contingent,  and  with 
out  all  Neceflity,  may  be  proved  thus  ;  It  is  im 
poflible  for  a  thing  to  be  certainly  known  to  any 
intellect  without  evidence.  To  fuppofe  otherwife, 
implies  a  contradiction  :  becaufe  for  a  thing  to 
be  certainly  known  to  any  underftanding,  is  for 
it  to  be  evident  to  that  underftanding :  and  for  a 
thing  to  be  evident  to  any  underftanding  is  the 
fame  thing,  as  for  that  underftanding  to  fee 
evidence  of  it :  but  no  underftanding,  created  or 
increated,  can  fee  evidence  where  there  is  none  : 
for  that  is  the  fame  thing,  as  to  fee  that  to  be, 
which  is  not.  And  therefore,  if  there  be  any 
truth  which  is  abfolutely  without  evidence,  that 
truth  is  abfolutely  unknowable,  infomuch  that  it 
implies  a  contradiction  to  fuppofe  that  it  is  known. 

But  if  there  be  any  future  tevent,  whofe  ex 
iftence  is  contingent,  without  all  NeceflUy,  the 
future  exiftence  of  the  event  is  abfolutely  without 
evidence.  If  there  be  any  evidence  of  it,  it  rnuft 
be  one  of  thefe  two  forts,  either  felf- evidence 9  or 
proof;  for  there  can  be  no  other  fort  of  evidence, 
but  one  of  thefe  two ;  an  evident  thing  muft  be 
either  evident  in  itfelf,  or  evident  in  fomething  elfe; 
that  is,  evident  by  connection  with  fomething 
elfe.  But  a  future  thing,  whofe  exiftence  is 
without  all  Neceflity,  can  have  neither  of  thefe 
forts  of  evidence.  It  cannot  be  felf -evident :  for 
if  it  be,  it  may  be  now  known,  by  what  is  now 
to  be  feen  in  the  thing  itfelf ,  either  its  prefent 
M  4  ex-s 


i68  Certain  Foreknowledge  Part  II. 

exigence,  or  the  Necefiity  of  its  nature  :  but 
both  thefe  are  contrary  to  the  fuppofition.  It  is 
fuppofed,,  both  that  the  thing  has  no  prefent  ex- 
iftence  to  be  feen ;  and  alfo  that  it  is  not  of  fuch 
a  nature  as  to  be  neceflarily  exiilent  for  the  fu 
ture  :  fo  that  its  future  exiflence  is  not  felf-evi- 
dent.  And,  fecondly^  neither  is  there  any  fro of \  or 
evidence  in  any  thing  elfe,  or  evidence  of  con 
nection  with  fomething  elfe  that  is  evident;  for 
this  is  alfo  contrary  to  the  fuppofition.  It  is  fup- 
pofed,  that  there  is  now  nothing  exiflent,  with 
which  the  future  exiftence  of  the  contingent  event 
is  connected.  For  fuch  a  connection  deftroys  its 
Contingence^  and  fuppofes  Neceflity.  Thus  it  is 
demonftrated,  that  there  is  in  the  nature  of  things 
abfolutely  no  evidence  at  all  of  the  future  exif 
tence  of  that  event,  which  is  contingent,  without 
all  Neceflity  (if  any  fuch  event  there  be)  neither 
felf-evidence  nor  proof.  And  therefore  the  thing 
in  reality  is  not  evident  •,  and  fo  cannot  be  feen 
to  be  evident,  or,  which  is  the  lame  thing,  can 
not  be  known. 

Let  us  conflder  this  in  an  example.  Suppofe 
that  five  thoufand  feven  hundred  and  fixty  years 
ago,  there  was  no  other  being  but  the  Divine 
Being  •,  and  then  this  world,  or  foine  particular 
body  or  fpirit,  all  at  once  ftarts  out  of  nothing 
into  being,  and  takes  on  itfelf  a  particular  nature 
and  form  ;  all  in  alfolute  Contingency  without  any 
concern  of  God,  or  any  other  caufe,  in  the  mat~ 
ter ;  without  any  manner  of  ground  or  reafon  of 
its  exiflence  ;  or  any  dependence  upon,  or  con 
nection  at  all  with  any  thing  foregoing  :  I  fay, 
that  if  this  be  fuppofed,  there  was  no  evidence 
of  that  event  before-hand.  There  was  no  evi 
dence  of  it  to  be  feen  in  the  thing  itfelf  \  for  the 
thing  itfelf  as  yet,  'was  not.  And  there  was  no 

evidence 


Sect.  XII.       infers  fome  Neceflity.  169 

evidence  of  it  to  be  feen  in  any  thing  elfe  ;  for 
evidence  in  fomething  elfe,  is  connexion  with  fome- 
thing  elfe  :  but  fuch  connection  is  contrary  to  the 
fuppofition.  There  was  no  evidence  before,  that 
this  thing  would  happen  ;  for  by  the  fuppofition, 
there  was  no  reafon  why  //  foould  happen^  rather 
than  fomething  elfe,  or  rather  than  nothing.  And 
if  fo,  then  all  things  before  were  exadtly  equal, 
and  the  fame,  with  refpecl  to  that  and  other  pofii- 
ble  things  -,  there  was  no  preponderation,  no  fu- 
periour  weight  or  value  ;  and  therefore,  nothing 
that  could  be  of  any  weight  or  value  to  deter 
mine  any  underflanding.  The  thing  was  abfo- 
lutely  without  evidence,  and  abfolutely  unknow 
able.  An  increafe  of  underftanding,  or  of  the 
capacity  of  difcerning,  has  no  tendency,  and 
makes  no  advance,  to  a  difcerning  any  figns  or 
evidences  of  it,  let  it  be  increafed  never  fo  much ; 
yea,  if  it  be  increafed  infinitely.  The  increafe  of 
the  ftrength  of  fight  may  have  a  tendency  to 
enable  to  difcern  the  evidence  which  is  far  oft', 
and  very  much  hid,  and  deeply  involved  in  clouds 
and  darknefs  ;  but  it  has  no  tendency  to  enable 
to  difcern  evidence  where  there  is  none.  If  the 
fight  be  infinitely  Itrong,  and  the  capacity  of 
difcerning  infinitely  great,  it  will  enable  to  fee  all 
that  there  is,  and  to  fee  it  perfectly,  and  with  eafe ; 
yet  it  has  no  tendency  at  all  to  enable  a  being  to 
difcern  that  evidence  which  is  not;  but,  on  the 
contrary,  it  has  a  tendency  to  enable  to  difcern 
with  great  certainty  that  there  is  none. 

III.  To  fuppofe  the  future  volitions  of  moral 
agents  not  to  be  neceflary  events ;  or,  which  is 
the  fame  thing,  events  which  it  is  not  impoflible 
but  that  they  may  not  come  to  pafs ;  and  yet  to 
fuppofe  that  God  certainly  foreknows  them,  and 
knows  all  things ;  is  to  fuppofe  God's  Knowledge 

to 


lyo          Certain  Foreknowledge,  &V.      Part  II, 
to  be  inconfiftent  with  itfelf.     For  to  fay,  that 
God  certainly,  and  without  all  conjecture,  knows 
that  a  thing  will  infallibly  be,  which  at  the  fame 
time  he  knows  to  be  fo  contingent^  that  it  may 
poflibly  not  be,  is  to  fuppofe  his  Knowledge  in- 
confiftent  with  itfelf;  or  that  one  thing,  that  he 
knows,  is  utterly  inconfiftent  with  another  thing, 
that  he  knows.     It  is  the  fame  thing  as  to  fay, 
he   now  knows  a  propofition  to   be   of  certain 
infallible  truth,  which  he  knows  to  be  of  contin 
gent  uncertain  truth.     If  a  future  volition  is  fo 
without  all  NeceOky,  that  there  is  nothing  hin 
ders  but  that  it  may  not  be,  then  the  propofition, 
which  afierts  its  future  exiftence,  is  fo  uncertain, 
that  there  is  nothing  hinders,  but  that  the  truth  of 
it  may  entirely  fail.  And  if  God  knows  all  things, 
he  knows  this  propofition  to  be  thus  uncertain. 
And  that  is  inconfiftent  with  his  knowing  that  it 
is  infallibly  true  •,  and  fo  inconfiftent  with  his  in 
fallibly  knowing  that  it  is  true.     If  the  thing  be 
indeed  contingent,  God  views  it  fo,  and  judges  it 
to  be  contingent,  if  he  views  things  as  they  are. 
If  the  event  be  not  necefTary,  then  it  is  poflible 
it  may  never  be  :  and  if  it  be  pofftble  it  may  ne 
ver  be,  God  knows  it  may  poflibly  never  be ;  and 
that  is  to  know  that  the  propofition,  which  affirms 
its  exiftence,  may  poffibly  not  be  true  ;  and  that 
is  t;o  know  that  the  truth  of  it  is  uncertain  ;  which 
furely  is  inconfiftent  with  his  knowing  it  as  a  cer 
tain  truth.     If  volitions  are  in  themfelves  con 
tingent  events,  without  all  Neceffity,  then  it  is 
no  argument  of  perfection  of  Knowledge  in  any 
being  to  determine  peremptorily  that  'they  will 
be ;  but  on  the  contrary,  an  argument  of  igno 
rance  and  miftakc :  becaufe  it  would  argue,  that 
he  iuppofes  that  propofition  to  be  certain,  which 
in  its  own   nature,  and  all  things  confidered,  is 
uncertain  and  contingent.  To  fay,  in  fuch  a  cafe, 

that 


XII.  Foreknowledge  infers*  &c. 
that  God  may  have  ways  of  knowing  contingent 
events  which  we  cannot  conceive  of,  is  ridiculous  5 
as  much  fo,  as  to  fay,  that  God  may  know  con 
tradictions  to  be  true,for  ought  we  know,  or  that 
he  may  know  a  thing  to  be  certain,  and  at  the 
fame  time  know  it  not  to  be  certain,  though  we 
cannot  conceive  how ;  becaufe  he  has  ways  of 
knowing,  which  we  cannot  comprehend. 

Coral,  i.  From  what  has  been  obferved  it  is 
evident,  that  the  abfolute  decrees  of  God  are  no 
more  inconfiftent  with  human  liberty,  on  ac 
count  of  any  Necefiity  of  the  event,  which  follows 
from  fuch  decrees,  than  the  abfolute  Foreknow 
ledge  of  God.  Becaufe  the  connection  between 
the  event  and  certain  Foreknowledge,  is  as  infal 
lible  and  indiflbluble,  as  between  the  event  and 
an  abfolute  decree.  That  is,  it  is  no  more  im- 
poffible,  that  the  event  and  decree  Ihould  not 
agree  together,  than  that  the  event  and  abfolute 
Knowledge  fhould  difagree.  The  connection  be 
tween  the  event  and  Foreknowledge  is  abfolutely 
perfect.,  by  the  fuppofition:  becaufe  it  is  fup- 
pofed,  that  the  certainty  and  infallibility  of  the 
Knowledge  is  abfolutely  perfect.  And  it  being 
fo,  the  certainty  cannot  be  increafed ;  and  there 
fore  the  connection,  between  the  Knowledge  and 
thing  known,  cannot  be  increafed ;  fo  that  if  a 
decree  be  added  to  the  Foreknowledge,  it  does 
not  at  all  increafe  the  connection,  or  make  it  more 
infallible  and  indiflbluble.  If  it  were  not  fo,  the 
certainty  of  Knowledge  might  be  increafed  by  the 
addition  of  a  decree  -9  which  is  contrary  to  the 
fuppofition,  which  is,  that  the  Knowledge  is  ab 
folutely  perfect:,  or  perfect  to  the  higheft  poflible 
degree. 

There 


172  Foreknowledge  infers  Ncceffity,  Part  II. 
There  is  as  much  of  an  impoffibtlity  but  that 
the  things  which  are  infallibly  foreknown,  ihould 
be,  or  (which  is  the  fame  thing)  as  great  a  Ne- 
cefiity  of  their  future  exiftence,  as  if  the  event 
were  already  written  down,  and  was  known  and 
read  by  all  mankind,  through  all  preceding  ages, 
and  there  was  the  moft  indiffoluble  and  perfect 
connection  pofiible,  between  the  writing,  and  the 
thing  written.  In  fuch  a  cafe,  it  would  be  as 
impoflible  the  event  fhould  fail  of  exigence,  as 
if  it  had  exifted  already  ;  and  a  decree  cannot 
make  an  event  furer  or  more  necefTary  than  this. 

And  therefore,  if  there  be  any  fuch  Foreknow 
ledge,  as  it  has  been  proved  there  is,  then  Necef- 
fity  of  connection  and  confequence,  is  not  at  all 
inconfiftent  with  any  liberty  which  man,  or  any 
other  creature  enjoys.  And  from  hence  it  may 
be  inferred,  that  abfolute  decrees  of  God,  which 
does  not  at  all  increafe  the  NecefTity,  are  not  at  all 
inconfiftent  with  the  liberty  which  man  enjoys, 
on  any  fuch  account,  as  that  they  make  the  event 
decreed  necefiary,  and  render  it  utterly  impoflible 
but  that  it  fhould  come  to  pafs.  Therefore,  if 
abfolute  decrees  are  inconfiftent  with  man's  li 
berty  as  a  moral  agent^  or  his  liberty  in  a  ftate  of 
probation^  or  any  liberty  whatfoever  that  he  en 
joys,  it  is  not  on  account  of  any  Neceflity  which 
abfolute  decrees  infer. 

Dr.  lybrtly  fuppofes,  there  is  a  great  difference 
between  God's  Foreknowledge,  and  his  decrees, 
with  regard  to  Neceflity  of  future  events.  In 
his  Difcourfe  on  the  five  Points,  p.  474,  &c.  he 
fays,  "  God's  Prefcience  has  no  influence  at  all 

"  on  our  actions. Should  God   (fays  he),  by 

"  immediate  Revelation,  give  me  the  knowledge 
**  of  the  event  of  any  man's  ftate  or  actions, 

14  would 


Sect  XII.         as  much  as  a  Decree.  173 

"  would  my  knowledge  of  them  have  any  in- 
u  fluence  upon  his  aftions  ?  Surely  none  at  all. — 
"  our  knowledge  doth  not  affect  the  things  we 
"  know,  to  make  them  more  certain,  or  more 
"  future,  than  they  would  be  without  it.  Now, 
"  Foreknowledge  in  God  is  Knowledge.  As 
u  therefore  Knowledge  has  no  influence  on  things 
"  that  are,  fo  neither  has  Foreknowledge  on 
"  things  that  fhall  be.  And  confequently,  the 
*'  Foreknowledge  of  any  adtion  that  would  be 
"  otherwife  free,  cannot  alter  or  diminifh  that 
"  freedom.  Whereas  God's  decree  of  election 
"  is  powerful  and  active,  and  comprehends  the 
"  preparation  and  exhibition  of  fuch  means,  as 

"  fhall  unfruftrably  produce  the  end. Hence 

4<  God's  Prelcience  renders  no  actions  necefTary." 
And  to  this  purpofe,  p.  473.  he  cites  Origen, 
where  he  fays,  God's  Preference  is  not  the  cauje  of 
things  future,  but  their  being  future  is  the  caufe  of 
God's  Prefdence  that  they  will  be :  and  Le  Blanc* 
where  he  fays,  This  is  the  trueft  refolution  of  this 
difficulty,  that  Prefdence  is  not  the  caufe  that  things 
are  future ;  but  their  being  future  is  the  caufe  they 
are  forefeen.  In  like  manner,  Dr.  Clark,  in  his 
Demonftration  of  the  Being  and  Attributes  of 
God,  p.  95 — 99.  And  the  Author  of  the  Freedom 
of  Will,  in  God  and  the  Creature,  fpeaking  to  the 
like  purpofe  with  Dr.  Whitby,  represents  Foreknow 
ledge  as  having  no  more  influence  on  things  known,  to 
make  them  necejfary,  than  After-knowledge,  or  to 
that  purpofe. 

To  all  which  I  would  fay ;  that  what  is  faid 
about  Knowledge,  its  not  having  influence  on  the 
thing  known  to  make  it  neceflary,  is  nothing  to 
the  purpofe,  nor  does  it  in  the  leaft  affect  the  fore 
going  reafoning.  Whether  Prefcience  be  the 
thing  that  makes  the  event  neceflary  or  no,  it  al 
ters 


174  Foreknowledge  infers  Neceffity,  Part  II. 
ters  not  the  cafe.  Infallible  Foreknowledge  may 
'prove  the  Neceffity  of  the  event  foreknown,  and 
yet  not  be  the  thing  which  caufes  the  Neceffity. 
If  the  Foreknowledge  be  abfolute,  this  proves  the 
event  known  to  be  neceffary,  or  proves  that  it  is 
impoffible  but  that  the  event  mould  be,  by  fome 
means  or  other,  either  by  a  decree,  or  fome  other 
way,  if  there  be  any  other  wray  :  becaufe,  as  was 
faid  before,  it  is  abfurd  to  fay,  that  a  propofition 
is  known  to  be  certainly  and  infallibly  true,  which 
yet  may  poffibly  prove  not  true. 

The  whole  of  the  feeming  force  of  this  evafion 
lies  in  this ;    that,  in  as  much  as  certain  Fore 
knowledge  does  not  caufe  an  event  to  be  neceffary, 
as  a  decree  does ;  therefore  it  does  not  prove  it  to 
be  neceffary,  as  a  decree  does.     But  there  is  no 
force  in  this  arguing :    for  it  is  built  wholly  on 
this  fuppofition,  that  nothing  can  prove,  or  be  an 
evidence  of  a  thing's  being  neceflary,   but  that 
•which  has  a  caufal  influence  to  make  it  fo.     But 
this  can  never  be  maintained.     If  certain  Fore 
knowledge  of  the  future  exiiling  of  an  event,  be 
not  the  thing,  which  firil  makes  it  impoffible  that 
it  mould  fail  of  exjftence ;  yet  it  may,  and  cer 
tainly  does  demonftrate>  that  it  is  impoffible   it 
Ihould  fail  of  it,  however  that  impoffibility  comes. 
If  Foreknowledge  be  not  the  caufe,  but  the  effect 
of  this  impoffibility,  it  may  prove  that  there  is 
fuch  an  impoffibility,  as  much  as  if  it  were  the 
caufe.     It  is  as  ilrong  arguing  from  the  effect  to 
the  caufe,  as  from  the  caufe  to  the  effect.    It  is 
enough,  that  an  exiflence,  which  is  infallibly  fore 
known,    cannot   fail,  whether  that  impoffibility 
arifes  from  the  Foreknowledge,  or  is  prior  to  it.  It 
Is  as  evident,  as  it  is  poffible  any  thing  mould  be, 
that  it  is  impoffible  a  thing,  which  is  infallibly 
known  to  be  true,  mould  prove  not  to  be  true  : 
therefore  there  is  a  Necefpty  that  it  Ihould  be  other- 
Si  wife : 


Se&.  XII.        as  muck  as  a  Decree.  175 

wife ;  whether  the  Knowledge  be  the  caufe  of 
this  NecefTity,  or  the  Neceffity  the  caufe  of  the 
Knowledge. 

All  certain  Knowledge,  whether  it  be  Foreknow 
ledge  or  After-knowledge,  or  concomitant  Know 
ledge,  proves  the  thing  known  now  to  be  necefFary, 
by  ibme  means  or  other;  or  proves  that  it  is  im- 
poflible  it  mould  now  be  otherwife  than  true. — I 
freely  allow,  that  Foreknowledge  does  not  prove 
a  thing  to  be  neceflary  any  more  than  After-know 
ledge  :  but  then  After-knowledge,  which  is  cer 
tain  and  infallible,  proves  that  it  is  now  become 
impoffible  but  that  the  proportion  known  ihould 
be  true.  Certain  After-knowledge  proves  that 
it  is  now,  in  the  time  of  the  Knowledge,  by  fome 
means  or  other,  become  impoffible  but  that  the 
proportion,  which  predicates  paft  exigence  on  the 
event,  fhould  be  true.  And  fo  does  certain  Fore 
knowledge  prove,  that  now,  in  the  time  of  the 
Knowledge,  it  is  by  fome  means  or  other,  become 
impoflible  but  that  the  propofition,  which  predi 
cates  future  exigence  on  the  event,  Ihould  be  true. 
The  Neceffity  of  the  truth  of  the  propofitions,  con- 
lifting  in  the  preient  impoflibility  of  the  non-exif- 
tence  of  the  event  affirmed,  in  both  cafes,  is  the  im 
mediate  ground  of  the  certainty  of  the  Knowledge; 
there  can  be  no  certainty  of  Knowledge  without  it. 

There  muft  be  a  certainty  in  things  themfelves, 
before  they  are  certainly  known,  or  (which  is  the 
fame  thing)  known  to  be  certain.  For  certainty 
of  Knowledge  is  nothing  elfe  but  knowing  or  dii- 
cerning  the  certainty  there  is  in  the  things  them 
felves,  which  are  known.  Therefore  there  muft  be 
a  certainty  in  things  to  be  a  ground  of  certainty 
of  Knowledge,  and  to  render  things  capable  of 
being  known  to  be  certain.  And  this  is  nothing 
but  the  neeefiity  of  the  truth  known,  or  its  be 
ing 


1 7  6        Foreknowledge  infers  Neceffity,      Part  II. 

ing  impoffible  but  that  it  fhould  be  true  ;  or,  in 
other  words,  the  firm  and  infallible  connexion 
between  the  fubject  and  predicate  of  the  propo- 
fition  that  contains  that  truth.  All  certainty  of 
Knowledge  confifts  in  the  view  of  the  firmnefs 
of  that  connection.  So  God's  certain  Foreknow 
ledge  of  the  future  exiitence  of  any  event,  is  his 
view  of  the  firm  and  indifibluble  connection  of 
the  fubjecl:  and  predicate  of  the  propofition  that 
affirms  its  future  exiftence.  The  fubjecl  is  that 
poifible  event ;  the  predicate  is  its  future  exift- 
ing :  but  if  future  exiftence  be  firmly  and  indif- 
folubly  connected  with  that  event,  then  the  fu 
ture  exiftence  of  that  event  is  necefiary.  If  God 
certainly  knows  the  future  exiftence  of  an  event 
which  is  wholly  contingent,  and  may  poffibly  ne 
ver  be,  then  He  fees  a  firm  connection  between  a 
fubject  and  predicate  that  are  not  firmly  con 
nected  ;  which  is  a  contradiction. 

I  allow  what  Dr.  Wkitly  fays  to  be  true,  That 
weer  Knowledge  does  not  affeEl  the  thing  known ,  to 
make  it  more  certain  or  more  future.  But  yet,  I 
fay,  \tfuppofes  and  proves  the  thing  to  be  already, 
both/#/#n?,  and  certain  •,  i.e.  necefTarily  future. 
Knowledge  o>i futurity,  fuppofes/«/Mn/y  ;  and  a  cer 
tain  Knozvledge  of  futurity,  fuppofes  certain  futurity^ 
antecedent  to  that  certain  Knowledge.  But  there 
is  no  other  certain  futurity  of  a  thing,  antecedent 
to  certainty  of  Knowledge,  than  a  prior  impofii- 
bility  but  that  the  thing  fhould  prove  true  ;  or 
(which  is  the  lame  thing)  the  Neceflity  of  the 
event. 

I  would  obferve  one  thing  further  concerning 
this  Matter,  it  is  this-,  that  if  it  be  as  thole 
forementioned  writers  fuppofe,  that  God's  Fore 
knowledge  is  not  the  caufe,  but  the  effect  of  the 

exiftence 


Sect.  XII.       as  much  as  a  Decreed  177 

•exiftence  of  the  event  foreknown;  this  is  fo  far 
from  fhewing  that  this  Foreknowledge  doth  not 
infer  the  Neceflity  of  the  exiftence  of  that  event, 
that  it  rather  fliews  the  contrary  the  more  plainly. 
Becaufe  it  fhews  the  exiftence  of  the  event  to  be 
fo  fettled  and  firm,  that  it  is  as  if  it  had  already 
been  ;  in  as  much  as  in  effett  it  actually  exifts  al 
ready  •,  its  future  exiftence  has  already  had  ac 
tual  influence  and  efficiency,  and  has  produced  an 
effefi?  viz.  Prefcience  :  the  effect  exifts  already  ; 
and  as  the  effect  fuppofes,  the  caufe  is  connected 
with  the  caufe,  and  depends  entirely  upon  it, 
therefore  it  is  as  if  the  future  event,  which  is  the 
caufe,  had  exifted  already.  The  effect  is  firm  as 
poffible,  it  having  already  the  pofleffion  of  ex 
iftence,  and  has  made  fure  of  it.  But  the  effect 
cannot  be  more  firm  and  ftable  than  its  caufe, 
ground  and  reafon.  The  building  cannot  be 
firmer  than  the  foundation. 

To  illuftrate  this  matter,  let  us  fuppofe  the  ap 
pearances  and  images  of  things  in  a  glafs ;  for 
inftance,  a  reflecting  telefcope  to  be  the  real  ef 
fects  of  heavenly  bodies  (at  adiftance,  and  out  of 
fight)  which  they  refemble :  if  it  be  fo,  then,  as 
thefe  images  in  the  telefcope  have  had  a  paft  ac 
tual  exiftence,  and  it  is  become  utterly  impoffible 
now  that  it  fhould  be  otherwife  than  that  they 
have  exifted  ;  fo  they  being  the  true  effects  of 
the  heavenly  bodies  they  refemble,  this  proves  the 
exifting  of  thofe  heavenly  bodies  to  be  as  real, 
infallible,  firm  and  necefTary,  as  the  exifting  of 
thefe  effects  ;  the  one  being  connected  with,  and 
wholly  depending  on  the  other. — Now  let  us  fup 
pofe  future  exiftences  fome  way  or  other  to  have 
influence  back,  to  produce  effects  before-hand, 
and  caufe  exact  and  perfect  images  of  themfelves 
in  a  glafs,  a  thoufand  years  before  they  exift, 
N  yes, 


Certain  Foreknowledge          Part  II. 

yea,  in  all  preceding  ages;  but  yet  that  thefc 
images  are  real  effects  of  thefe  future  exiftences, 
perfectly  dependent  on,  and  connected  with  their 
caufe  •,  thefe  effects  and  images,  having  already 
had  actual  existence,  rendering  that  matter  of  their 
exifting  perfectly  firm  and  (table,  and  utterly  im- 
poffible  to  be  otherwife ;  this  proves  in  like  man 
ner,  as  in  the  other  inftance,  that  the  exiftence  of 
the  things,  which  are  their  caufes,  is  alfo  equally 
fure,  firm  and  neceffary  ;  and  that  it  is  alike  im- 
poflible  but  that  they  fhould  be,  as  if  they  had 
been  already,  as  their  effects  have.  And  if  in- 
itead  of  images  in  a  glafs,  we  fuppofe  the  ante 
cedent  effects  to  be  perfect  ideas  of  them  in  the 
Divine  Mind,  which  have  exiiled  there  from  all 
eternity,  which  are  as  properly  effects,  as  truly 
and  properly  connected  with  their  caufe,  the  cafe 
is  not  altered. 

Another  thing  which  has  been  faid  by  fome 
jArminians^  to  take  off  the  force  of  what  is  urged 
from  God's  Prefcience,  againft  the  Contingence 
of  the  volitions  of  moral  agents,  is  to  this  pur- 
pofe ;  "  That  when  we  talk  of  Foreknowledge  in 
"  God,  there  is  no  ftrict  propriety  in  our  fo 
*c  fpeaking  \  and  that  although  it  be  true,  that 
"  there  is  in  God  the  moft  perfect  Knowledge  of  all 
"  events  from  eternity  to  eternity,  yet  there  is  no 
•"  fuch  thing  as  before  and  after  in  God,  but  He 
"  fees  all  things  by  one  perfect  unchangeable  view, 
"  without  any  fuccefiion."—  To  this  I  anfwer, 

i.  It  has  been  already  fhewn,  that  all  certain 
Knowledge  proves  the  Neceffity  of  the  truth 
known;  whether  it  be  before,  after  ^  or  at  the  fame 
time. — Though  it  be  true,  that  there  is  no  fuccef- 
iion  in  God's  Knowledge,  and  the  manner  of  his 
Knowledge  is  to  us  inconceivable,  yet  thus  much. 

we 


Sect.  XII.  infers  fome  Necefiity. 
we  know  concerning  it,  that  there  is  no  event, 
pad,  prefent,  or  to  come,  that  God  is  ever  un 
certain  of;  He  never  is,  never  was,  and  never 
will  be  without  infallible  Knowledge  of  it ;  He 
always  fees  the  existence  of  it  to  be  certain  and  in 
fallible.  And  as  he  always  fees  things  juft  as  they 
are  in  truth  ;  hence  there  never  is  in  reality  any 
thing  contingent  in  fuch  a  fenfe,  as  that  poffibly 
it  may  happen  never  to  exift.  If,  ftrictly  fpealo 
ing,  there  is  no  Foreknowledge  in  God,  it  is  be- 
caufe  thofe  things,  which  are  tuture  to  us,  are  as 
prefent  to  God,  as  if  they  already  had  exiftence : 
and  that  is  as. much  as  to  fay,  that  future  events 
are  always  in  God's  view  as  evident,  clear,  fure 
and  neceflary,  as  if  they  already  were.  If  there 
never  is  a  time  wherein  the  exiftence  of  the  event 
is  not  prefent  with  God,  then  there  never  is  a  time 
wherein  it  is  not  as  much  impoflible  for  it  to  fail 
of  exiftence,  as  if  its  exiftence  were  prefent,  and 
were  already  come  to  pafs. 

God's  viewing  things  fo  perfectly  and  un 
changeably  as  that  there  is  no  fuccefilon  in  his 
ideas  or  judgment,  do  not  hinder  but  that  there 
is  properly  now,  in  the  mind  of  God,  a  certain  and 
perfect  Knowledge  of  moral  actions  of  men,  which 
to  us  are  an  hundred  years  hence:  yea  the  ob 
jection  fuppofes  this ;  and  therefore  it  certainly 
does  not  hinder  but  that,  by  the  foregoing  argu 
ments,  it  is  now  impollible  thefe  moral  actions 
Ihould  not  come  to  pafs. 

We  know,  that  God  knows  the  future  volun 
tary  actions  of  men  in  fuch  a  fenfe  before-hand, 
as  that  he  is  able  particularly  to  declare,  and  fore 
tell  them,  and  write  them,  or  caufe  them  to  be 
written  down  in  a  book,  as  He  often  has  done  ; 
and  that  therefore  the  neceflary  connection  which 
Na,  there 


iSo  Certain  Foreknowledge          Part  II. 

there  is  between  God's  Knowledge  and  the  event 
known,  does  as  much  prove  the  event  to  be  ne- 
ceffary  before-hand,  as  if  the  Divine  Knowledge 
were  in  the  fame  fenfe  before  the  event,  as  the 
prediction  or  writing  is.     If  the  Knowledge   be 
infallible,  then  the  expreflion  of  it  in  the  written 
prediction  is  infallible  -,  that  is,  there  is  an  infal 
lible  connection  between  that  written  prediction 
and  the  event.     And  if  fo,  then  it  is  impoffible  it 
mould  ever  be  otherwife,  than  that  that  prediction 
and  the  event  mould  agree  :  and  this  is  the  fame 
thing  as  to  fay,  it  is  impoflible  but  that  the  event 
mould  come  to  pafs :  and  this  is  the  fame  as  to 
fay  that  its  coming  to  pafs  is  neceflary. — So  that 
it  is   mariifeft,  that  there  being  no  proper  fuc- 
celTion  in  God's  mind,  makes  no  alteration  as  to 
the  Neceflity  of  the  exiftence  of  the  events  which 
God  knows.     Yea, 

2.  This  is  fo  far  from  weakening  the  proof, 
which  has  been  given  of  the  impoffibility  of  the 
not  coming  to  pafs  of  future  events  known,  as 
that  it  eftabliihes  that,  wherein  the  itrength  of  the 
foregoing  arguments  confifts,  and  mews  the  clear- 
nefs  of  the  evidence.  For, 

( i .)  The  very  reafon,  why  God's  Knowledge  is 
without  fucceflion,  is,  becaufe  it  is  abfolutely 
perfeCt,  to  the  higheft  pofiible  degree  of  clearness 
and  certainty :  all  things,  whether  pad,  prefent, 
or  to  come,  being  viewed  with  equal  evidence  and 
fulnefs ;  future  things  being  feen  with  as  much 
clearness,  as  if  they  were  prefent  -,  the  view  is 
always  in  abfolute  perfection ;  and  abfolute  con- 
ftant  perfection  admits  of  no  alteration,  and  fo 
no  fucceffion  ^  the  aCtual  exiftence  of  the  thing 
known,  does  not  at  all  increafe,  or  add  to  the  clear- 
nefs  or  certainty  of  the  thing  known :  God  calls 

the 


Sect.  XII.        infers  fome  Neceflity. 

the  things  that  are  not,  as  though  they  were ;  they 
are  all  one  to  him  as  if  they  had  already  exifled. 
But  herein  confifts  the  flrength  of  the  demon- 
itration  before  given,  of  .the  impofiibility  of  the 
not  exifting  of  thofe  things,  whofe  exigence  God 
knows ;  that  it  is  as  impoflible  they  fhould  fail 
of  exigence,  as  if  they  exifted  already.  This 
objection,  inilead  of  weakening  this  argument, 
lets  it  in  the  cleareit  and  ftrongeft  light  •,  for  it 
fuppofes  it  to  be  fo  indeed,  that  the  exigence  of 
future  events  is  in  God's  view  fo  much  as  if  it 
already  had  been,  that  when  they  come  actually 
to  ex-ift,  it  makes  not  the  leaft  alteration  or  varia 
tion  in  his  view  or  Knowledge  of  them. 

(2.)  The  objection  is  founded  on  the  immuta* 
lility  of  God's  Knowledge  :  for  it  is  the  immuta 
bility  of  Knowledge  makes  his  Knowledge  to  be 
without  fucceflion.  But  this  moft  directly  and 
plainly  demonftrates  the  thing  I  infift  on,  viz. 
that  it-  is  utterly  impofiible  the  known  events 
fhould  fail  of  exiftence.  For  if  that  were  poflible, 
then  it  would  be  poflible  for  there  to  be  a  change 
in  God's  Knowledge  and  view  of  things.  For  if 
the  known  event  mould  fail  of  exigence,  and 
not  come  into  being,  as  God  expected,  then  God 
would  fee  it,  and  fo  would  change  his  mind,  and 
fee  his  former  miftake ;  and  thus  there  would  be 
change  and  fucceflion  in  his  Knowledge.  But  as 
God  is  immutable,  and  fo  it  is  utterly  infinitely 
impofllble  that  his  view  mould  be  changed  ;  fo 
it  is,  for  the  fame  reafon,  juft  fo  impoflible  that 
the  fore-known  event  mould  not  exift :  and  that 
is  to  be  impofllble  in  the  higheit  degree :  and 
therefore '  the  contrary  is  neceflary.  Nothing  is 
more  impofllble  than  that  the  immutable  God 
mould  be  changed,  by  '  the  fucceflion  of  time ; 
who  comprehends  all  things,  from  eternity  to 
N  3  eter- 


1 82       Foreknowledge  proves  Neceffity.     PartIL 

eternity,  in  one,  moft  perfect,  and  unalterable 
view ;  fo  that  his  whole  eternal  duration  is  wit* 
inter  minaliliSy  tota,  Jtmul,  &  perfefta  pojjejfio. 

On  the  whole,  I  need  not  fear  to  fay,  that  there 
is  no  geometrical  theorem  or  proportion  what- 
foever,  more  capable  of  ftrict  demonflration,  than 
that  God's  certain  Prefcience  of  the  volitions  of 
moral  agents  is  inconfiflent  with  fuch  a  Contin- 
~;ence  of  thefe  events,  as  is  without  all  Necefilcy; 
nd  fo  is  in  confident  with  the  Armiman  notion  of 
.liberty. 

Corol.  2.  Hence  the  doctrine  of  the  Calvinifts, 
concerning  the  abfolute  decrees  of  God,  does  not 
at  all  infer  .any  more  fatality  in  things,  than  will 
demonftrably  follow  from  the  doctrine  of  moil 
jirminian  divines,  who  acknowledge  God's  om- 
nifcience,  and  univerfal  Prefcience.  Therefore 
all  objections  they  make  sgainft  the  doctrine  of 
the  Cafoinifts,  as  implying  Hobbes's  doctrine  of 
Necefilty,  or  the  Jloical  doctrine  of  fate,  lie  no 
more  agamft  the  doctrine  of  Calvmifts,  than  their 
own  doctrine  :  and  therefore  it  doth  not  become 
thofe  divines,  to  raiie  fuch  an  out-cry  againft  the 
Cafainifts,  on  this  account. 

Corol.  3.  Hence  all  arguing  from  NecefTity, 
againft  the  doctrine  of  the  inability  of  unrege- 
nerate  men  to  perform  the  conditions  of  falvation, 
and  the  commands  of  God  requiring  fpiritual 
duties,  and  againft  the  Calvimftic  doctrine  of  ef 
ficacious  grace ;  I  fay,  all  arguings  of  Armenians 
(fuch  of  them  as  own  God's  omnifcience)  againft 
thefe  things,  on  this  ground,  that  thefe  doc 
trines,  though  they  do  not  fuppofe  men  to  be  un 
der  any  conftraint  or  coaction,  yet  fuppofe  them 
under  Neceflity,  with  refpect  to  their  moral  ac 
tions, 


Sect.  XIII.     Arminian  Liberty  inconfiflent.       183 

tions,  and  thofe  things  which  are  required  of  them 
in  order  to  their  acceptance  with  God  ;  and  their 
arguing  againft  the  Neceflity  of  men's  volitions, 
taken  from  the  reafonablenefs  of  God's  com 
mands,  promifes,  and  threatenings,  and  the  fm- 
ccrity  of  his  counfels  and  invitations ;  and  all 
objections  againft  any  doctrines  of  the  Cahnnlfls 
as  being  inconfiftent  with  human  liberty,  becaufe 
they  infer  Neceflity;  I  fay,  all  thefe  arguments 
and  objections  muft  fall  to  the  ground,  and  be 
juftly  efteemed  vain  and  frivolous,  as  coming 
from  them  ;  being  maintained  in  an  inconfiftence 
with  themfelves,  and  in  like  manner  leveled 
againft  their  own  doctrine,  as  againft  the  doctrine 
of  the  Cahinifts. 

SECTION      XIII. 

'Whether  we  fuppofe  the  volitions  of  moral  agents  to 
be  connected  with  any  thing  antecedent^  or  not,  yet 
they  muft  be  neceffary  in  fuch  a  fenfe  as  to  over 
throw  Arminian  Liberty. 

EVERY  act  of  the  will  has  a  caufe,  or  it 
has  not.  If  it  has  a  caufe,  then,  according 
to  what  has  already  been  demonftrated,  it  is  not 
contingent,  but  necefiary,  the  effect  being  ne- 
ceflarily  dependent  and  confequent  on  its  caufe  5 
and  that,  let  the  caufe  be  what  it  will.  If  the 
caufe  is  the  will  itfelf,  by  antecedent  acts  chu- 
iing  and  determining;  ftill  the  determined  and 
eaufed  act  muft  be  a  neceffary  effect.  The  act, 
that  is  the  determined  effect  of  the  foregoing 
act  which  is  its  caufe,  cannot  prevent  the  effici 
ency  of  its  caufe  ;  but  muft  be  wholly  fubject 
to  its  determination  and  command,  as  much  as 
N4  the 


184  Both  Neceffity  and  Cpntlngence    Part  II. 

the  motions  of  the  hands  and  feet.  The  con- 
fequent  commanded  acts  of  the  will  are  as  paf- 
iive  and  as  necefiary,  \vith  refpect  to  the  antece~ 
dent  determining  acts,  as  the  parts  of  the  body 
are  to  the  volitions  which  determine  and  command 
them.  And  therefore,  if  all  the  free  acts  of  the 
will  are  thus,  if  they  are  all  determined  effects, 
determined  by  the  will  itfelf,  that  is,  determined 
by  antecedent  choice,  then  they  are  all  neceflary  3 
they  are  all  fubjeot  to,  and  decifively  fixed  by  the 
foregoing  act,  which  is  their  caufe :  yea,  even 
the  determining  act  itfelf;  for  that  muft  be  de 
termined  and  fixed  by  another  act,  preceding 
that,  if  it  be  a  free  and  voluntary  act;  and  fq 
muft  be  neceflary.  So  that  by  this  all  the  free 
acts  of  the  will  are  neceflary,  and  cannot  be  free 
unlefs  they  are  neceflary  :  becaufe  they  cannot  be 
free,  according  to  the  Armmian  notion  of  free 
dom,  unlefs  they  are  determined  by  the  will ; 
which  is  to  be  determined  by  antecedent  choice ; 
which  being  their  caufe,  proves  them  neceflary. 
And  yet  they  fay,  Neceflity  is  utterly  inconfiftent 
with  Liberty.  So  that,,  by  their  fcheme,  the  acts 
of  the  will  cannot  be  free,  unlefs  they  are  neceflary, 
and  yet  cannot  be  free  if  they  be  not  neceflary ! 

But  if  the  other  part  of  the  dilemma  be  taken, 
and  it  be  affirmed  that  the  free  acts  of  the  \vill 
have  no  caufe,-  and  are  connected  with  nothing 
whatfqever  that  goes  before  them  and  determines 
them,  in  order  to  maintain  their  proper  and  ab- 
folute  Contjngence,  and  this  fhould  be  allowed  to 
be  poflible ;  ilill  it  will  not  ferve  their  turn.  For 
if  the  volition  come  to  pafs  by  perfect  Contin-. 
gence,  and  without  any  caufe  at  all,  then  it  is, 
certain,  no  act  of  the  will,  no  prior  act  of  the 
foul  was  the  caufe,  no  determination  or  choice 
of  the  foul,  had  any  ha,nd  in  it.  The  will,  or 

the 


Sect.  XIII.  inconfiji.  with  Arminian  Liberty.  185 
the  foul,  was  indeed  the  fubject  of  what  hap 
pened  to  it  accidentally,  but  was  not  the  caufe. 
The  will  is  not  active  in  caufing  or  determining, 
but  purely  the  paflive  fubject ;  at  leaft,  according 
to  their  notion  ot  action  and  paffion.  In  this 
caie,  Contingence  does  as  much  prevent  the  de 
termination  of  the  will,  as  a  proper  caufe  ;  and 
as  to  the  will,  it  was  neceffary,  and  could  be  no 
otherwife.  For  to  fuppofc  that  it  could  have 
been  otherwife,  if  the  will  or  foul  had  p leafed, 
is  to  fuppofe  that  the  act  is  dependent  on  fome 
prior  act  of  choice  or  pleafure  ;  contrary  to  what 
now  is  fuppofed :  it  is  to  fuppofe  that  it  might 
have  been,  otherwife,  if  its  caufe  had-' made  it  or 
ordered  it  otherwife.  But  this  does  not  agree  to 
its  having  no. caufe  or  orderer  at  all.  That  muft 
be  neceffary  as  to  the  foul,  which  is  dependent 
on  no  free  ad:  of  the  foul :  but  that  which  is 
without  a  caufe,  is  dependent  on  no  free  act  of 
the  foul :  becaufe,  by  the  fuppofition,  it  is  de* 
pendent  on  nothing,  and  is  connected  with  no 
thing.  In  fnch  a  cafe,  the  foul  is  rieceilarily  fub- 
jected  to  what, accident  brings  to  pafs,  from  time 
to  time,  as  much  as  the  earth,  that  is  inactive, 
is  neceffarily  fubjected  to  what  falls  upon  it.  But 
this  does  not  confift  with  the  Arminian  notion  of 
liberty,  which  is  the  will's  power  of  determining 
itfelf  in  its  own  acts,  and  being  wholly  active  in 
it,  without  pafiivenefs,  and  without  being  fubject 
to  Necefiity. — : — Thus,  Contingence  belongs  to 
the  Arminian  notion  of  Liberty,  and  yet  is  incon- 
liftent  with  it. 

I  would  here  obferve,  that  the  author  of  the 
Effay  on  the  Freedom  of  Will,  in  God  and  the  Crea 
ture,  page  76,  77,  fays  as  follows  :  "  I  he  word 
"  Chance  always  means  fomething  done  without 
"  delrgn.  Chance  and  dcfign  rtand  in  direct 

"  oppo- 


i86  Both  Neceffity  and  Contingence  Part  II. 
"  oppofition  to  each  other:  and  Chance  can  ne- 
'*  ver  be  properly  applied  to  acts  of  the  will, 

c  which  is  the  fpring  of  all  defign,  and  which 
"  defigns  to  chufe  whatfoever  it  doth  chufe,  whe- 
"  ther  there  be  any  fuperior  fitnefs  in  the  thing 
"  which  it  chufes,  or  no  ;•  and  it  defigns  to  de- 
"  termine  itfelf  to  one  thing,  where  two  things, 

(  perfectly  equal,  are  propofed,  meerly  becauie 
"  it  will."  But  herein  appears  a  very  great  inad 
vertence  in  this  author.  For  if  the  will  be  the 
fpring  of  all  defign,  as  he  fays,  then  certainly  it  is 
not  always  the  effect  of  defign  ;  and  the  acts  of 
the  will  themfelves  mud  fometimes  come  to  pafs, 
when  they  do  not  Jpringfrom  defign  ;  and  confe- 
quently  come  to  pafe  by  Chance,  according  to  his 
own  definition  of  Chance.  And  if  the  will  defigns 
to  chufe  whdtfcever  it  does  chufe,  and  defigns  to  de 
termine  itfelf,  as  he  fays,  then  it  defigns  to  de 
termine  all  its  defigns.  Which  carries  us  back 
from  one  defign  to  a  foregoing  defign  determin 
ing  that,  and  to  another  determining  that ;  and 
fo  on  in  infinitum.  The  very  fird  defign  mud  be 
the  effed  of  ^  foregoing  defign,  or  elfe°it  mud  be 
by  Chance,  in  his  notion  of  it. 

Here  another  alternative  may  be  propofed,  re 
lating  to  the  connection  of  the  acts  of  the  will 
with  fomething  foregoing  that  is  their  caufe,  not 
much  unlike  to  the  other;  which  is  this  :  either 
human  liberty  is  fuch,  that  it  may  well  dand  with 
volitions  being  neceifarily  connected  with  the 
views  of  the  underdanding,  and  fo  is  confident 
with  Necefiity;  or  it  is  in  confident  with.,  and  con 
trary  to  fuch  a  connection  and  Neceffity.  The 
former  is  directly  fubverfive  of  the  Arminian  no 
tion  of  liberty,  confiding  in  freedom  from  all 
Necefiity.  And  if  the  latter  be  chofen,  and  it 
be  laid,  that  libei  ty  is  inconfident  with  any  fuch 

necefiary 


Sect.  XIII.  inconfifient  with  Arminian  Liberty.  187 
necefTary  connexion  of  volition  with  foregoing 
views  of  the  underftanding,  it  confiding  in  free 
dom  from  any  fuch  Neceflity  of  the  will  as  that 
would  imply;  then  the  liberty  of  the  foul  confifls 
(in  part  at  kail)  in  the  freedom  from  reftrainr, 
limitation  and  government,  in  its  actings,  by  the 
underftanding,  and  in  liberty  and  liablenefs  to 
act  contrary,  to  the  underftanding's  views  and 
dictates  :  and  confequently  the  more  the  foul  has 
of  this  difengagednefs,  in  its  acting,  the  more 
liberty.  Now  let  it  be  confidered  what  this  brings 
the  noble  principle  of  human  liberty  to,  particu 
larly,  when  it  is  pofTefled  and  enjoyed  in  its  per 
fection,  viz.  a  full  and  perfect  freedom  and  liable 
nefs  to  act  altogether  at  random,  without  the  lead 
connection  with,  or  reflraint  or  government  by, 
any  dictate  of  reafon,  or  any  thing  whatfoever  ap 
prehended,  confidered  or  viewed  by  the  under- 
flanding ;  as  being  inconfifient  with  the  full  and 
perfect  fovereignty  of  the  will  over  its  own  de 
terminations. — The  notion  mankind  have  con 
ceived  of  liberty,  is  fome  dignity  or  privilege, 
fomething  worth  claiming.  But  what  dignity  or 
privilege  is  there,  in  being  given  up  to  fuch  a 
wild  Contingence  as  this,  to  be  perfectly  and  con- 
ftantly  liable  to  act  unintelligently  and  unreafon- 
ably,  and  as  much  without  the  guidance  of  un 
derftanding,  as  if  we  had  none,  or  were  as  de- 
ftitute  of  perception,  as  the  fmoke  that  is  driven 
by  the  wind ! 


PART 


P  ART 


Wherein  is  enquired,  whether  any  fuck 

.liberty  of  will  as  Arminians  bold, 

be  neceffary  to   MORAL  AGENCY, 

VIRTUE  and  VICE,  PRAISE  and 

DISPRAISE, 


SECTION 


GOD's  moral  Excellency  neceffary,  yet  virtuous 
arid  praife-worthy. 


HAVING  confidered  the  /r/?  thing  that  was 
propofed  to  be  enquired  into,  relating  to 
that  freedom  of  will  which  Arminians  maintain  ; 
namely,  Whether  any  fuch  thing  does,  ever  did, 
or  ever  can  exift,  or  be  conceived  of ;  I  come  now 
to  the  fecond  thing  propofed  to  be  the  fubjeft  of 
enquiry,  viz.  Whether  any  fuch  kind  of  liberty 
be  requifite  to  moral  agency,  virtue  and  vice, 
pfaife  and  blame,  reward  and  punifhment,  &c. 

I  (hall 


Sect.  L    Gofs  moral  Excellency,  &V.  189 

I  fhall  begin  with  fome  conn* deration  of  the 
virtue  and  agency  of  the  Supreme  moral  Agent, 
and  Fountain  of  all  Agency  and  Virtue. 

Dr.  Whitby,  in  his  Difcourfe  on  the  five  Points, 
p.  14,  fays,  "  If  all  human  actions  are  neceffary, 
"  virtue  and  vice  muft  be  empty  names  ;  we 
"  being  capable  of  nothing  that  is  .blame- wor- 
"  thy,  or  deferveth  praife ;  for  who  can  blame 
"  a  perfon  for  doing  only  what  he  could  not  help, 
"  or  judge  that  he  deferveth  praife  only  for  what 
ft  he  could  not  avoid  ?"    To  the  like  purpofe  he 
fpeaks   in  places  innumerable ;  elpecially  in  his 
Difcourfe  on  the  Freedom  of  the  l¥ill\  conftantly 
maintaining,  that  a  freedom  not  only  from  ccafficn, 
but  necejjity,  is  abfolutely  requiute,  in  order  to 
actions  being  either  wprthy  of  blame,  or  deierv- 
ing  of  praife.     And  to  this  agrees,  as  is.  well 
known,  the  current  doctrine  of  Armmian  writers, 
who,  in  general,  hold,  that  there  is  no  virtue  or 
vice,  reward  or  puniihment,  nothing  to  be  com 
mended  or  blamed,  without  this  freedom.     And 
yet  Dr.  WUtby^  p.  300,  allows,  that  God  is  with 
out  this  freedom ;  and  Arminians^  fo  far  as  I  have 
had  opportunity  to  obferve,  generally  acknow 
ledge,  that  God  is  neceffarily  holy,  and  his  will 
necelTarily  determined  to  that  whicli  is  good. 

So  that,  putting  thefe  things  together,  the  in 
finitely  holy  God,  who  always  ufed  to  be  efleemed 
by  God's  people  not  only  virtuous  but  a  Being 
in  whom  is  all  poflible  virtue,  and  every  virtue 
in  the  moft  abfolute  purity  and  perfection,  and  in 
infinitely  greater  brightness  and  amiablenefs  than 
in  any  creature ;  the  moil  perfect  pattern  of  vir 
tue,  and  the  fountain  from  whom  all  others  vir 
tue  is  but  as  beams  from  the  fun  •,  and  who  has 
been  luppofed  to  be,  on  the  account  of  his  vir 
tue 


*  • 


God*s  moral  Excellency  neecflary,    Part  III. 
tue   and  holinefs,   infinitely  more  worthy  to  be 
efteemed,  loved,  honoured,  admired,  commended, 
extolled  and  praifed,  than  any  creature  :  and  He, 
who  is  thus  every  where  reprefented  in  Scripture  ; 
I   fay,  this  Being,  according   to    this  notion  of 
Dr.  Wkitby,  and  other  Arminians,  has   no  virtue 
at  all  ;  virtue,  when  afcribed  to  Him,  is  but  an 
empty  name;  and  he  is  deferving  of  no  commen 
dation  or  praife ;  becaufe   he  is  under  necefllty, 
He  cannot  avoid  being  holy  and  good  as  he  is  ; 
therefore  no  thanks  to  him  for  it.     It  feems,  the 
holinefs,  juftice,    faithfulnefs,  &c.  of  the  Moil 
High,  mult  not  be  accounted  to  be  of  the  na 
ture  of  that  which  is  virtuous  and  praife-worthy. 
They  will  not  deny,  that  thefe  things  in  God  are 
good  ;  but  then  we  rr.uft  underftand  them,  that 
they  are  no  more 'virtuous,  or  of  the  nature  of 
any  thing  commendable,  than  the  good  that  is 
in  any  other  being  that  is  not  a  moral  agent ;  as 
the  brightnefs  of  the  fun,  and  the  fertility  of  the 
earth,  are  good,  but  not  virtuous,  becaufe  thefe 
properties  are  neceffary  to  thefe  bodies,  and  not 
the  fruit  of  felf-determining  power. 

There  needs  no  other  confutation  of  this  no 
tion  of  God's  not  being  virtuous  or  praife-wor 
thy,  to  Chriftians  acquainted  with  the  Bible,  but 
only  fiating  and  particularly  reprefenting  of  it. 
To  bring  texts  of  Scripture,  wherein  God  is  re 
prefented  as  in  every  refpect,  in  the  highefl:  man 
ner  virtuous,  and  fupremely  praife-worthy,  would 
be  endlefs,  and  is  altogether  needlefs  to  fuch 
as  have  been  brought  up  in  the  light  of  the 
Gofpel. 

It  were  to  be  wifhed,  that  Dr.  Wbitly*  and  other 

divines  of  the  fame  fort,  had  explained   them- 

felves,  when  they  have  aflerted,  that  that  which 

2  is 


Sect.  I.    yet  virtuous  and  praife-worthy.         191 

is  necefTary,  is  not  deferring  of  praife  ;  at  the 
fame  time  that  they  have  owned  God's  perfec 
tion  to  be  neceffary,  and  fo  in  effect  representing 
God  as  not  deferving  praife.  Certainly,  if  their 
words  have  any  meaning  at  all,  by  praife^  they 
muft  mean  the  exercife  or  teftimony  of  fome 
forts  of  efteem,  refpect  or  honourable  regard. 
And  will  they  then  fay,  that  men  are  worthy  of 
that  efteem,  refpect  and  honour  for  their  vir 
tue,  fmall  and  imperfect  as  it  is,  which  yet  God 
is  not  worthy  of,  for  his  infinite  righteoufnefs, 
holinefs  and  goodnefs  ?  If  fo,  it  mud  be,  be- 
caufe  of  fome  fort  of  peculiar  Excellency  in  the 
virtuous  man,  which  is  his  prerogative,  wherein 
he  really  has  the  preference -,  fome  dignity,  that 
is  entirely  diftinguilhed  from  any  Excellency, 
amiablenefs  or  honourablenefs  in  God ;  not  in 
imperfection  and  dependence,  but  in  pre-emi 
nence;  which  therefore  he  does  not  receive  from 
God,  nor  is  God  the  fountain  or  pattern  of  it; 
nor  can  God,  in  that  refpect,  ftand  in  compe 
tition  with  him,  as  the  object  of  honour  and 
regard  •,  but  man  may  claim  a  peculiar  efteem, 
commendation  and  glory,  that  God  can  ha_ve  no 
preteniion  to.  Yea,  God  has  no  right,  by  vir 
tue  of  his  neceflary  holinefs,  to  intermeddle  writh 
that  grateful  refpect  and  praife,  due  to  the  vir 
tuous  man,  who  chufes  virtue,  in  the  exercife 
of  a  freedom  ad  utrumqnz  \  any  more  than  a  pre 
cious  (lone,  which  cannot  avoid  being  hard  and 
beautiful. 

And  if  it  be  fo,  let  it  be  explained  what  that 
peculiar  refpect  is,  that  is  due  to  the  virtuous  man, 
which  differs  in  nature  and  kind,  in  lome  way  of 
pre-eminence,  from  all  that  is  due  to  God.  What 
is  the  name  or  deicription  of  that  peculiar  affec 
tion  ?  Is  it  efteem,  love,  admiration,  honour, 

praife, 


Concerning  G  O D 's  Virtue.      Part  III. 

praife  or  gratitude  ?  The  Scripture  every  where 
reprefents  God  as  the  higheft  object  of  all  thefe : 
there  we  read  of  the  foul's  magnifying  the  Lord,  of 
loving  Him  'with  all  the  heart,  with  all  the  foul, 
with  all  the  mind,  and  with  all  the  Jlrength  •,  ad 
miring  him,  and  his  righteous  affs,  or  greatly  re 
garding  them,  as  marvellous  and  wonderful-,  ho 
nouring,  glorifying,  exalting,  ex  t  oiling  >>  bk fling,  thank 
ing  and  pralfing  Him  ;  giving  unto  Him  all  the 
glory  of  the  good  which  is  done  or  received,  ra 
ther  than  unto  men  ;  that  no  flefli  fliould  glory  in 
Us  prefence  -,  but  that  He  mould  be  regarded  as 
the  Being  to  whom  all  glory  is  due.  What  then 
is  that  refpect  ?  What  paffion,  affection,  or  ex- 
crcife  is  it,  that  Armimans  call  praife,  diverfe  from 
all  thefe  things,  which  men  are  worthy  of  for 
their  virtue,  and  which  God  is  not  worthy  of,  in 
any  degree  ? 

If  that  neceflity  which  attends  God's  moral 
perfections  and  actions,  be  as  inconfiftent  with  a 
Being  -worthy  of  praife,  as  a  neceflity  of  co- 
action  ;  as  is  plainly  implied  in,  or  inferred  from 
Dr.  Whitby**  difcourfe;  then  why  fhould  we  thank 
God  for  his  goodnefs,  any  more  than  if  He  were 
forced  to  be  good,  or  any  more  than  we  Ihould 
thank  one  of  our  fellow-creatures  who  did  us 
good,  not  freely,  and  of  good  will,  or  from  any 
kindnefs  of  heart,  but  from  meer  compulfion, 
or  extrinfical  Neceflity  ?  Arminiam  fuppoie,  that 
God  is  neceflarily  a  good  and  gracious  Being  : 
for  this  they  make  the  ground  of  fome  of  their 
main  arguments  againit  many  doctrines  main 
tained  by  Cahinijls  ;  they  fay,'  thefe  are  certainly 
falfe,  and  it  is  impojjille  they  fhould  be  true,  be- 
caufe  they  are  not  confident  with  the  goodnefs  of 
pod.  This  fuppofes,  that  it  is  impo/ible  but  that 
God  fhould  be  good :  for  if  it  be  poflible  that 

He 


Sect.  I.    yet  virtuous  and  praife-worthy. 

He  ihould  be  otherwife,  then  that  impoffibility 
of  the  truth  of  theie  doctrines  ceafes,  according 
to  their  own  argument. 

That  virtue  in  God  is  not,  in  the  mofl:  proper 
lenfe,  rewarddble^  is  not  for  want  of  merit  in  his 
moral  perfections  and  actions,  fufficient  to  de- 
ferve  rewards  from  his  creatures ;  but  becaufe 
He  is  infinitely  above  all  capacity  of  receiving 
any  reward  or  benefit  from  the  creature :  He  is 
already  infinitely  and  unchangeably  happy,  and 
we  cannot  be  profitable  unto  Him.  But  {till  he 
is  worthy  of  our  fupreme  benevolence  for  his 
virtue  ;  and  would  be  worthy  of  our  beneficence, 
•which  is  the  fruit  and  expreffion  of  benevolence, 
if  our  goodnefs  could  extend  to  Him.  If  God 
deferves  to  be  thanked  and  praifed  for  his  good 
nefs,  He  would,  for  the  fame  reafon,  deferve  that 
we  ihould  alfo  requite  his  kindnefs,  if  that  were 
pofiible.  What  jhall  I  render  to  the  Lord  for  all  Ms 
benefits  ?  is  the  natural  language  of  thankfulnefs : 
and  fb  far  as  in  us  lies,  it  is  our  duty  to  recom- 
penfe  God's  goodnefs,  and  render  again  according 
to  benefits  received.  And  that  we  might  have  op 
portunity  for  fo  natural  an  expreffion  of  our  gra 
titude  to  God,  as  beneficence,  notwithilanding 
his  being  infinitely  above  our  reach  ;  He  has  ap 
pointed  others  to  be  his  receivers,  and  to  ftand 
in  his  ftead,  as  the  objects  of  our  beneficence ; 
fuch  are  efpecially  our  indigent  brethren. 


O  SECTION 


I94        ST&  Afa  of  tie  Will  of  Chrifl:,     Part  III. 

SECTION     II. 

*fhe  ARs  cf  the  Will  of  tie  human  foul  of  JESUS 
CHRIST  neceifarily  holy,  yet  truly  virtuous, 
praife-worthy,  rewardable,  &c. 

I  HAVE  already  confidered  how  Dr.  Whitty  in- 
fifts  upon  it,  that  a  freedom,  not  only  from 
coaftion,  but  neceflity,  is  requijite  either  to  virtus 
vice,  praife  or  difpraife,  reward  or  puntfhment.  He 
alfo  infifts  on  the  fame  freedom  as  abfolutely  re- 
quifite  to  a  perfon's  being  the  fubjecl:  of  a  law^ 
of  precepts  or  prohibitions  •,  in  the  book  before- 
mentioned,  (p.  SGI,  314,  328,  339,  340,  341, 
342,  347,  361,  373,  410.)  And  of  promifes 
and  threatening^  (p.  298,  301,  305,  311,  339, 
340,  363.)  And  as  requifite  to  a  fate  of  trial^ 
(p.  297,  &c.) 

Now  therefore,  with  an  eye  to  thefe  things,  I 
would  enquire  into  the  moral  condudl  and  prac 
tices  of  our  Lord  Jefns  Chrift,  which  he  exhibi 
ted  in  his  human  nature  here,  in  his  ftate  of  humi 
liation.  And  frft,  I  would  fhew,  that  his  holy 
behaviour  was  neceffary  ;  or  that  it  was  impojfibk 
it  ihould  be  otherwife,  than  that  He  fhould  be 
have  himfelf  holily,  and  that  he  Ihould  be  per 
fectly  holy  in  each  individual  adl  of  his  life. 
And  fecondly,  that  his  holy  behaviour  was  pro 
perly  the  nature  of  virtue,  and  was  worthy  of 
praife  \  and  that  he  was  the  fubjecl:  of  law,  pre 
cepts  or  commands,  promifes  and  rewards;  and  that 
he  was  in  a  ft  ate  of  trial. 

I.  It  was  impojfible*  that  the  Acts  of  the  Will 
o£  the  human  foul  of  Chrift  fhould,  in  any  in- 

i  fiance, 


Sect.  II.  neceffarily  holy. 

ftance,  degree  or  circumflance,  be  othervvife  than 
holy,  and  agreable  to  God's  nature  and  will. 
The  following  things  make  this  evident. 

i.  God  had  promifed  fo  effedtually  to  preferve 
and   uphold  Him   by  his   Spirit,  under  all  his 
temptations,  that  he  could  not  fail  of  reaching 
the  end  for  which  He  came  into  the  world; — 
which  he  would  have  failed  of,  had  he  fallen  into 
fin.   We  have  fuch  a  promife,  Ifai.  xliii.  1,2,  g,  4. 
Behold  my  Servant ,  whom  I  uphold;  mine  Elefi,  in 
whom  my  foul  delighteth  :  I  have  -put  my  Spirit  upon 
him:  He  Jhall  bring  forth  judgment  to  the  Gentiles: 
He  Jhall  not  cryy  nor  lift  up,  nor  caufe  his  voice  to 
be  heard  in  the  ftreet. — He  Jhall  bring  forth  judg 
ment  unto  truth.     He  Jhall  not  fail,  nor  be  difcou- 
raged,  till  He  have  fet  judgment  in  the  earth  ;    and 
the   ifle-s  Jhall  wait  his  law.     This   promife  of 
Chriil's  having  God's  Spirit  put  upon  Him,  and 
his  not  crying  and  lifting  up  his  voice,    &c.    re 
lates  to  the  time  of  Chrift's  appearance  on  earth  ; ' 
as   is  manifeft  from  the  nature  of  the  promife, 
and  alfo  the  application  of  it  in  the  New  Tei- 
tament,  Matthew  xii.  18.     And  the  words  im 
ply  a  promife  of  his  being  fo  upheld  by  God's 
Spirit,  that  he  fhould  be  preferved  from  fin ;  par 
ticularly  from  pride  and  vain-glory,  and  from 
being  overcome   by  any  of  the  temptations,  he 
Ihould  be  under  to  affect  the  glory  of  this  world, 
the  pomp  of  an   earthly  prince,  or  the  applaufe 
and  praife  of  men  :  and  that  he  fhould  be  fo  up 
held,  that  he  fhould  by  no  means  fail  of  obtain 
ing  the  end  of  his  coming  into  the  world,  of 
bringing  forth  judgment  unto  victory,  and  efta- 
blifhing  his  kingdom  of  grace  in  the  earth. — 
And  in  the  following  verfes,  this  promife  is  con 
firmed,  with  the  ereatefl  imaginable  folemnity, 
Thus  faith  the  LORD,  HE  that  created  the  heavens, 
O  2  and 


196  The  Ms  of  the  Will  of  Chrift,  Fart  III. 
and  ftretched  them  out  •,  He  that  fpread  forth  ths 
earthy  and  that  which  cometh  out  of  it ;  He  that 
giveth  breath  unto  the  people  upon  it,  and  fpirit  to 
them  that  walk  therein  :  1  the  Lord  have  called  Thee 
in  righteoufnefs ,  and  will  hold  thine  hand  ;  and  will 
keep  Thee,  and  give  Thee  for  a  Covenant  of  the  peo 
ple,  for  a  Light  of  the  Gentiles,  to  open  the  blind  eyes, 
to  bring  out  the  prifoners  from  the  prifon,  and  them 
that  fit  in  darknefs  out  of  the  prifon-houfe.  1  am 
JEHOVAH,  that  is  my  name,  &c. 

Very  parallel  with  thefe  promifes  is  that,  If  at. 
xlix.  7,  8,  9.  which  ailb  has  an  apparent  refpedt 
to  the  time  of  Chrift's  humiliation  on  earth. — 
Thus  faith  the  Lord,  the  Redeemer  of  Ifrael,  and  his 
Holy  One,  to  Him  whom  man  defpifeth,  to  Him  whom 
the  nation  abhorreth,  to  a  Servant  of  the  riders  •, 
kings  jhall  fee  and  arife,  princes  alfo  Jhall  worflrip  -, 
lecaufe  of  the  Lord  that  is  faithful,  and  the  Holy  One 
(/ Ifrael,  and  he  Jhall  choofe  Thee.  Thus  faith  the 
Lord,  In  an  acceptable  time  have  1  heard  Thee  ±  in  a 
day  of  falvation  have  I  helped  Thee ;  and  I  will  pre- 
ferve  Thee,  and  give  Thee  for  a  covenant  of  the  peo 
ple,  to  eftabli/h  the  earth,  &c. 

And  in  If  at.  \.  5 — 6.  we  have  the  Mefiiah  ex- 
prefiing  his  affurance,  that  God  would  help  Him, 
by  ib  opening  his  ear,  or  inclining  his  heart  to 
God's  commandments  that  He  ihould  not  be  re 
bellious,  but  ihould  per fevere,  and  not  apoftatife, 
or  turn  his  back :  that  through  God's  help,  He 
ihould  be  immovable,  in  a  way  of  obedience, 
under  the  great  trials  of  reproach  -and  fuffering 
he  ihould  meet  with  ;  fetting  his  face  like  a 
flint :  fo  that  He  knew,  He  ftiould  not  be  aiham- 
ed,  or  fruilrated  in  his  defign  •,  and  finally  mould 
be  approved  and  juftified,  as  having  done  his 
work  faithfully.  The  Lord  hath  opened  mine  ear  ; 

fo 


Sect.  II.  neceffarily  My.  197 

fo  that  1  was  not  rebellious,  neither  turned  away  my 
back :  I  gave  my  lack  to  the  [miters*  and  my  cheeks 
to  them  that  plucked  off  the  hair;  I  hid  not  my  face 
from  Jhame  and  /pitting,  for  the  Lord  God  will 
help  me ;  therefore  Jhall  I  not  be  confounded :  there 
fore  have  1  jet  my  face  as  a  flint ,  and  I  know  that  I 
Jhall  not  be  ajhamed.  He  is  near  that  jujlifieth  me : 
who  will  contend  with  me  ?  Let  usfland  together. 
Who  is  mine  adverfary  ?  Let  him  come  near  to  me. 
Behold  the  Lord  God  will  help  me :  who  is  he  that 
Jhall  condemn  me  ?  Lo,  they  Jhall  all. wax  old  as  a 
garment^  the  moth  Jhall  eat  them  up.  / 

2.  The  fame  thing  is  evident  from  all  the 
promifes  which  God  made  to  the  Median,  of  his 
future  glory,  kingdom  and  fuccefs,  in  his  office 
and  character  of  a  Mediator  :  which  glory  could 
not  have  been  obtained,  if  his  holinefs  had  failed, 
and  he  had  been  guilty  of  fin.  God's  abfolnte 
promife  of  any  things  makes  the  things  pro- 
mifed  neceffary,  and  their  failing  to  take  place 
abiblutely  impojjible:  and,  in  like  manner,  it  makes 
thofe  things  neceflary,  on  which  the  thing  pro- 
mifed  depends,  and  without  which  it  cannot  take 
effect.  Therefore  it  appears,  that  it  was  utterly 
impofiible  that  Ch rift's  holinefs  fhould  fail,  from 
fuch  abfolute  promifes  as  thofe,  Pfal.  ex.  4,  tte 
Lord  hath  fworn,  and  will  not  repent,  Thou  art  a 
Prie ft  forever,  after  the  order  o/Melchizedek.  And 
from  every  other  promife  in  that  pfalm,  contained 
in  each  verfe  of  it.  And  Pfal.  ii.  6,  7.  1  will 
declare  the  decree :  The  Lord  hath  faid  unto  me, 
*Thou  art  my  Son,  this  day  have  I  begotten  'Thee : 
dfk  of  me,  and  1  will  give  Thee  the  Heathen  for 
thine  inheritance,  &c.  Pfal.  xlv.  q,  4,  &c.  Gird  thy 
fword  on  thy  thigh,  O  mojl  Mighty,  with  thy  Glory 
and  thy  Majejiy  *,  and  in  thy  Majejly  ride  profperoufly. 
And  fo  every  thing  that  is  faid  from  theqce  to 

03  the 


1 98  tte  Afts  of  the  Will  of  Chrift,  Part  III. 
the  end  of  the  Pfalm.  And  thofe  promifes,  If  at. 
iii,  13,  14,  15.  and  liii.  10,  IT,  12.  And  all  thofe 
prom  lies  which  God  makes  to  the  Mefiiah,  of 
fuccefs,  dominion  and  glory  in  the  charader  of 
a  Redeemer,  in  If  at.  chap.  xlix. 

3.  It  was  often  promifed  to  the  Church  of  God 
of  old,  for  their  comfort,  that  God  would  give 
them  a  righteous,  finlefs  Saviour.  Jer.  xxiii.  5,  6. 
Behold,  the  days  come,  faith  the  Lord,  that  1  will 
raife  up  unto  David  a  righteous,  Branch ;  and  a  King 
flwll  reign  and  proffer,  and  Jhall  execute  judgment 
andjujlice  in  the  earth.  In.  his  days  Jhall  Judah  be 
Javed,  and  Ifrael  Jhall  dwell  fajely.  And  this  is  the 
name  whereby  He  JJjall  be  called,  The  Lord  our 
Righteoufnejs.  So,  Jer.  xxxiii.  15. — 1  will  caufe 
the  Branch  of  Righteouftiefs  to  grow  up  unto  David ; 
and  he  foall  execute  judgment  and  right  eoufncjs  in  the 
land.  I  fell  xi.  6,  7.  For  unto  us  a  Child  is  born ; — 
upon  the  throne  of  David  and  of  his  kingdom,  to 
order  it,  and  to  eftabUJh  it  with  judgment  and  jufiice^ 
from  henceforth,  even  for  ever  :  the  Zeal  of  the  Lord 
of  Hofts  will  do  this.  Chap.  ix.  at  the  beginning. 
There  Jhall  come  forth  a  Rod  out  of  the.  Stem  of  Jefie, 
and  a  Branch  JJiatl  grow  out  of  his  Roots  ;  and  the 
Spirit  of  the  Lord  Jhall  reft  upon  Him, — the  Spirit  of 
Knowledge,  and  the  Fear  of  the  Lord : — with  rigb- 
teoujnejs  Jhall  He  judge  the  poor,  and  reprove  with 
equity  : — rRighteoufnefs  JJoall  be  the  girdle  of  his 
loins,  and  faithfulnefs  the  girdle  of  his  reins.  Chap. 
Iii.  13.  My  Servant  JbalL  deal  prudently.  Chap, 
liii,  9.  Eecaufe  He  had  done  no  violence,  neither 
was  guile  found  in  his  mouth.  If  it  be  impoflible, 
that  thefe  promifes  fhould  fail,  and  it  be  eafier  for 
heaven  and  earth  to  pafs  away,  than  for  one  jot 
or  tittle  of  thefe  promifes  of  God  to  pafs  away, 
then  it  was  impoflible  that  God  fhould  commit 
any  fin.  Chrift  himfelf  iignified,  that  it  was  im- 
polTible  but  that  the  things  which  were  fpoken 


Sect.  II.  necefiarily  My.  199 

concerning  Him,  fhould  be  fulfilled.  Luke  xxiv. 
44. — That  all  things  muff  be  fulfilled,  which  were 
written  in  the  law  of  Mofes,  and  in  theProphets,  and 
in  the  Pfalms  concerning  Me.  Matt.  xxvi.  53,  54. 
But  how  thenjhdl  the  Scripture  be  fulfilled,  that  thus 
it  muft  be  ?  Mark  xiv.  49.  But  the  Scriptures  muft 
lefufilled.  And  fo  the  Apoftle,  Acts  i.  16,  17. 
— "This  Scripture  muft  needs  have  been  fulfilled. 

4.  All  the  promifes,  which  were  made  to  the 
Church  of  old,  of  the  Mefliah  as  a  future  Saviour, 
from  that  made  to  our  firlt  parents  in  P'aradife,  to 
that*  which  was  delivered  by  the  prophet  Malachi, 
fhew  it  to  be  impoffible  that  Chrift  ftiould  not  have 
perfevered  in  perfect  holinefs.  The  antient  pre- 
dictions  given  to  God's  Church,  of  the  Meffiah  as 
a  Saviour,  were  of  the  nature  of  promifes  \  as  is 
evident  by  the  predictions  themielves,  and  the 
manner  of  delivering  them.  But  they  are  ex- 
prefsly,  and  very  often  called  promifes  in  the  New 
Teilament;  as  in  Luke  i.  54,  55,  72,  73,  Afts  xiii. 
32,33.  Rom.  i.  1,2,  3.  and  chap.  xv.  8.  Heb.\\. 
13,  &c.  Thefe  promifes  were  often  made  with 
great  folemnity,  and  confirmed  with  an  oath  ;  as 
in  Gen.  xxii.  16,  17.  By  my f elf  have  Ifworn,  faith 
the  Lord,  that  in  blejfing,  I  will  blefs  thee,  and  in 
multiplying,  I  will  multiply  thy  feed,  as  the  ftars  of 
heaven,  and  as  the  fand  which  is  upon  the  fea- 

Jhore : And  in  thy  feed  Jh  all  all  the  nations  of  the 

earth  be  blejfed.  Compare  Luke  i.  72,  73.  and 
Gal.  iii.  8,  15,  16.  The  Apoftle  in  Heb.  vi.  17,  18. 
fpeaking  of  this  promife  to  Abraham,  fays,  Where* 
in  God  willing  more  abundantly  to  faew  to  the  heirs  of 
promife  the  immutability  of  his  counfel,  confirmed  it  by 
an  oath ;  that  by  two  IMMUTABLE  things,  'in 
which  it  was  IMPOSSIBLE  for  God  to  lie,  he  might 
have  fir ong  conjolation. — In  which  words,  the  ne- 
cejjity  of  the  accomplifhment,  or  (which  is  the 
lame  thing)  the  impoj/ibility  of  the  contrary,  is 

O  4  fully 


zoo        The  Afts  of  the  Will  of  Chrift,     Part  III. 

fully  declared.  So  God  confirmed  the  promife 
of  the  great  falvation  of  the  Meffiah,  made  to 
Davih  by  an  oath  ;  Pfal.  Ixxxix.  3,  4.  I  have 
made  a  covenant  with  my  chofen,  I  have  fworn  unto 
David  my  fervant ;  thy  feed  will  I  eft  ablijh  for  ever  > 
and  build  up  thy  throne  to  all  generations.  There  is 
nothing  that  is  fo  abundantly  fet  forth  in  Scrip 
ture,  as  fure  and  irrefragable,  as  this  promife  and 
oath  to  David.  See  Pfalm  Ixxxix.  34,  35,  36. 
2  Sam.  xxiii.  5.  JjaL  Iv.  4.  A5ls  ii.  29,  30.  and 
xiii.  34.  "The  Scripture  expreisly  fpeaks  of  it  as 
utterly  impojjible  that  this  promife  and  oath  to 
David,  concerning  the  everlafting  dominion  of 
the  Meffiah  of.  his  feed,  fhould  fail.  Jer.  xxxiii. 
15,  &c.  In  thofe  days,  and  at  that  time,  I  will 
caufe  the  Branch  of  Righteoufnefs  to  grow  up  unto 
David.— for  thus  faith  the  Lord,  David  Jbeti  never 
want  a  Man  to  fit  upon  the  throne  of  the  Boufe  of 
Ifrael. — Ver.  20,  21.  If  you  can  break  my  covenant 
of  the  day,  and  my  covenant. the  of  night,  and  that 
there  Jhould  not  be  day  and  night  in  their  feafon  ;  then 
may  alfo  my  covenant  be  broken  with  David  my  fer- 
want,  .that  He  Jhould  not  have  a  fon  to  reign  upon 
his  throne.  So  in  ver.  25,  26. — -Thus  abundant 
is  the  Scripture  in  representing  how  impoj/ible  it 
was,  that  .the  promiies  made  of  old  concerning 
the  great  falvation  and  kingdom  of  the  Meffiah 
fhould  fail:  which  implies,  that  it  was  impoffi- 
ble  that  this  Meffiah,  the  fecond  Adam*  the  pro- 
mifed  feed  of  Abraham,  and  of  David,  fhould  fall 
from  his  integrity,  as  the  firft  Adam  did.. 

5.  All  the  promifes  that  were  made  to  the 
Church  of  God  under  the  Old  Teftament,  of  the 
great  enlargement  of  the  Church,  and  advance 
ment  of  her  glory,  in  the  days  of  the  Gofpel, 
after  the  coining  of  the  Meffiah ;  the  increafe 
pf  her  irght,  liberty,  holinefs,  joy,  triumph 

over 


Se6t.  II.  neceflarily  My.  201 

over  her  enemies,  &c.  of  which  fo  great  a  part 
of  the  Old  Teftament  confiits  ;  which  are  repeat 
ed  fo  often,  are  fo  varioufly  exhibited,  fo  Trequent- 
ly  introduced  with  great  pomp  and  folemnity, 
and  are  fo  abundantly  fealed  with  typical  and 
fymbolical  reprefentadons ;  I  fay,  all  thefe  pro- 
mifes  imply,  that  the  Meffiah  ihould  perfecl  the 
work  of  redemption  $  and  this  implies,  that  he 
ihould  perfevere  in  the  work,/ which  the  Father 
had  appointed  Him,  being  in  all  things  con 
formed  to  his  Will.  Thefe  promifes  were  often 
confirmed  by  an  oath.  (See  If  at.,  liv.  9.  with  the 
context;  chap.  Ixi'i.  18.)  And  it  is  reprefented 
as  utterly  impoffible  that  thefe  promifes  Ihould 
fail.  (Ifa.  xlix.  15.  with  the  context,  cbap.liv.  10. 
with  the  context;- chap.  \\.  4—8.  cbaf.  xl.  8.  with 
the  context.)  And  therefore  it  was  impoffible,  that 
the  Meffiah  ihould  fail,  or  commit  fin. 

6.  It  was  Impoffible  9  that  the  Meffiah  mould  fail 
of  perfevering  in  integrity  and  holinefs,  as  the 
firft  Adam  did,  becaufe  this  would  have  been  in- 
confiflent  with  the  promifes,  which  God  made  to 
the  blefled  Virgin,  his  mother,  and  to  her  huf- 
band  ;  implying,  that  Hejhouldfave  his  people  from 
their  fins,  that  God  would  give  Him  the  throne  of  his 
Father  David,  that  He  fiould  reign  over  the  houfe  of 
Jacob  for  ever  ;  and  that  of  his  kingdom  there  Jhall 
be  no  end.     Thefe  promifes  were  fure,  and  it  was 
impoffible  they  ihould  fail.  And  therefore  the  Vir 
gin  'Mary,  in  trufting  fully  to  them,  acted  reafon- 
ably,   having  an  immovable  foundation  of  her 
faith ;  as  Elizabeth  obferves,  ver.  45.  And  bleffed 
isjhe  that  believeth  ;  for  there  Jhall  be  a  performance 
ofthofe  things,  which  were  told  her  from  the  Lord. 

7.  That  it  ihould  have  been  poflible  that  Chrift 
ftiould  fin,  and  fo  fail  in  the  work  of  our  re 
demption, 


202       fbe  Atts  of  the  Will  of  Chrift,     Part  III. 

dernption,  does  not  confift  with  the  eternal  pur- 
pofe  and  decree  of  God,  revealed  in  the  Scriptures, 
that  He  would  provide  falvation  for  fallen  man 
in  and  by  Jefus  Chrift,  and  that  falvation  mould 
be  offered  to  finners  through  the  preaching  of  the 
Gofpel.  Such  an  abfolute  'decree  as  this  Armi 
nians  do  not  deny.  Thus  much  at  leaft  (out  of 
all  controverfy)  is  implied  in  fuch  Scriptures,  as 
I  Cor.  ii.  7.  Eph.  i.  4.  5.  and  chap. iii,  9,  10,  n. 
I  Pet.  i.  19,  20.  Such  an  abfolute  decree  as  this, 
Arminians  allow  to  be  fignified  in  thefe  texts.  And 
the  Arminians  election  of  nations  and  focieties, 
and  general  election  of  the  Chriftian  Church,  and 
conditional  election  of  particular  perfons,  imply 
this.  God  could  not  decree  before  the  founda 
tion  of  the  world,  to  fave  all  that  Ihould  believe 
in,  and  obey  Chrift,  unlefs  he  had  abfoluteiy  de 
creed,  that  falvation  ihould  be  provided,  and  ef 
fectually  wrought  out  by  Chrift.  And  fince  (as 
the  Arminians  themfelves  ftrenuoufly  maintain)  a 
decree  of  God  infers  neceffity  ;  hence  it  became 
xeceffary,  that  Chrift  mould  perfevere,  and  actually 
work  out  falvation  for  us,  and  that  he  Ihould  not 
fail  by  the  commiilion  of  fin. 

8.  That  it  fhould  have  been  poflible  for  ChrifVs 
Holinefs  to  fail,  is  not  confiftent  with  \vhat  God 
promifed  to  his  Son,  before  all  ages.  For,  that 
falvation  fhould  be  offered  to  men,  through  Chrift, 
and  beftowed  on  all  his  faithful  followers,  is  what 
is  at  leaft  implied  in  that  certain  and  infallible 
promife  fpoken  of  by  the  apoftle,  Tit.  i.  2.  In 
hope  of  eternal  life ;  which  God,  that  cannot  lle^  pro- 
imjed  before  the  world  began.  This  does  not  feem 
to  be  controverted  by  Arminians  *. 

*  See  Dr.  Whit  by  on  the  five  Points,  p.  48,  49,  50. 

9.  That 


Se&.  II.  neceffarily  holy.  203 

9.  That  it  fhould  be  poflible  for  Chrift  to  fail 
of  doing  his  Father's  Will,  is  inconfiftent  with 
the  promife  made  to  the  Father  by  the  Son,  by 
the  Logos  that  was  with  the  Father  from  the  be 
ginning,  before  he  took  the  human  nature :  as 
may  be  feen  in  PfaL  xl,  6,  7,  8,  (compared  with 
the  apoftle's   interpretation,  Heb.  x.  5 — 9.)  Sa- 
crifice  and  offering  tbou  didft  not  dejire :  mine  ears 
baft  tloou  opened^  (or  bored  ;)  burnt-offering  and  Jin- 
offering  Thou  baft  not  required.     Then  faid  7,  Lo,  1 
come  :  in  the  volume  of  the  book  it  is  written  of  me^ 
I  delight  to  do  thy  Will,   0  my  God,  and  thy  law  is 
within  my  heart.     Where  is  a  manifeft  allufion  to 
the  covenant,  which   the  willing  fervant,  who  lo 
ved  his  matter's  fervice,   made  with   his  mailer, 
to  be  his  fervant  for  ever,  on  the  day  wherein 
he  had  his  ear  bored  ;  which   covenant  was  pro 
bably  inferted  in   the  public  records,  called  the 
Volume  of  the  Book,  by  the  judges,  who  were 
called  to  take  cognizance  of  the  tranfaction ;  Exod. 
xxi.     If  the  Logos,  who  was  with  the  Father,  be 
fore  the  world,  and   who  made  the  world,  thus 
engaged  in  covenant  to  do  the  Will  of  the  Father 
in  the  human  nature,  and  the  promife,  was  as  it 
were  recorded,  that  it  might  be  made  fure,  doubt- 
lefs  it  was  impojfible  that  it  mould  fail ;  and  fo  it 
was  impojfible  that  Chrift  Ihould  fail  of  doing  the 
Will  of  the  Father  in  the  human  nature. 

10.  If  it  was  poffible  for  Chrift  to  have  failed 
of  doing  the  Will  of  his  Father,  and  fo  to  have 
failed  of  effectually  working  out  redemption  for 
finners,   then  the  falvation  of  all  the  faints,  v/ho 
were  faved  from  the  beginning  of  the  world,  to 
the  death  of  Chrift,    was    not  built  on  a   firm 
foundation.     The  Mefliah,  and  the  redemption, 
which  He  was  to  work  out  by  his  obedience 
unto  death,    was    the  foundation  cf  the  falva 
tion 


204  W*  Acts -of  ike  Will  of  Chrift,  Part  III. 
tion  of  all  the  pofterity  of  fallen  man,  that  ever 
were  faved.  Therefore,  if  when  the  Old  Tefta- 
ment  faints  had  the  pardon  of  their  fins,  and  the 
favour  of  God  promifed  them,  and  falvation  be- 
ftowed  upon  them,  ftill  it  was  poffible  that  the 
MefTiah,  when  he  came,  might  commit  fin,  then 
all  this  was  on  a  foundation  that  was  not  firm 
and  liable,  but  liable  to  fail ;  fomething  which  it 
was  poffible  might  never  be.  God  did  as  it  were 
trufl  to  what  his  Son  had  engaged  and  promifed 
to  do  in  future  time  ;  and  depended  fo  much  upon 
it,  that  He  proceeded  actually  to  fave  men  on  the 
account  of  it,  as  though  it  had  been  already  done. 
But  this  truft  and  dependence  of  God,  on  the 
fuppofition  of  Chrift's  being  liable  to  fail  of  doing 
his  Will,  was- leaning  on  a  ftafF  that  was  weak, 
and  might  poflibly  /break.  The  faints  of  old 
tr ufied  on  the  promiies  of  a  future  redemption 
to  be  wrought  out  and  compleated  by  the  Mcfiiah, 
and  built  their  comfort  upon  it :  Abraham  faw 
Ch rift's  Day,  and  rejoiced  ;  and  he  and  the  other 
Patriarchs  died  in  the  faith  of  the  promife  of  it. 
(Heb.  xi.  13.)  But  on. this  fuppofition,  their  faith 
and  their  comfort,  and  their  falvation,  was 
built  on  a  moveable  fallible  foundation  ;  Chrift 
was  not  to  them  a  tried  ftone,  a  fure  foundation  ; 
as  in  Ifai.  xxviii.  16.  David  entirely  refted  on 
the  covenant  of  God  with  him,  concerning  the 
future  glorious  dominion  and  falvation  of  the 
Mefiiah,  of  his  Seed  ;  fays,  it  was  all  his  falvation , 
and  all  his  defire\  aLJ  comforts  himfeif  that  this 
covenant  was  an  everlafling  covenant,  ordered  in  all 
things  and  Jure,  2  Sarn.  xxiii.  5.  But  if  Chrift's 
virtue  might  fail,  he  was  miftaken :  his  great 
comfort  was  not  built  fo  fure,  as  he  thought  it 
was,  being  founded  entirely  on  the  determinations 
of  the  Free- Will  of  ChriiVs  human  Soul ;  which 
was  fubjeft  to  no  neceffity.  and  might  be  deter* 

mined 


Se&  II.  rieceflarily  holy.  205 

mined  either  one  way  or  the  other.  Alfo  the 
dependence  of  thofc,  who  looked  for  redemption 
in  Jerufalem,  and  waited  fcr  the  confolation  of 
IJrael,  '(Luke  ii.  25,  and  38.)  and  the  confidence 
of  the  difciples  of  Jefus,  who  forfook  all  and  fol 
lowed  Him,  that  they  might  enjoy  the  benefits  of 
his  future  kingdom,  was  built  on  a  fandy  foun 
dation. 

ii.  The   man   Chrift   Jefus,    before   he   had 
iinifhed  his  courfe  of  obedience,  and  while  in  the 
midft  of  temptations  and   trials,  was   abundant 
in  pofitively  predicting  his  own  future  glory  in 
his  kingdom,  and  the  enlargement  of  his  church, 
the  falvation  of  the  Gentiles  through  Him,  &c. 
and  in  promifes  of  bleflings  he  would  beftow  on 
his    true  difciples  in   his   future    kingdom-,    on 
which  promifes   he  required  the  full  dependence 
of  his  difciples.  (Job.  xiv.)    But  the   difciples 
would  have  no  ground  for  fuch  dependence,  if 
Chrift  had  been  liable  to  fail   in  his  work :  and 
Chrift  Himfelf  would  have  been  guilty  of  pre- 
fumption,  in  fo  abounding  in  peremptory  pro 
mifes  of  great  things,  which  depended  on  a  meer 
contingence  ;  viz.  the  determinations  ot  his  Free 
Will,  confifting  in  a  freedom  ad  utrumque^  to  ei 
ther  fm  or  holinefs,  ftanding  in   indifference,  and 
incident,  in  thoufands  of  future  inftances,  to  go 
either  one  way  or  the  other. 

Thus  it  is  evident,  that  it  was  ImpoJJlbk  that  the 
Adts  of  the  Will  of  the  human  foul  of  Chrift 
Ihould  be  otherwife  than  holy,  and  conformed  to 
the  Will  of  the  Father  ;  or,  in  other  words,  they 
were  necefiarily  fo  conformed. 

I  have  been  the  longer  in  the  proof  of  this 
matter,  it  being  a  thing  denied  by  fome  of  the 

greateft 


2o6  CHRIST'S  Righteoufnefs       Part  III. 

greateft  drminians,  by  Epifcopius  in  particular ; 
and  becaufe  I  look  upon  it  as  a  point  clearly  and 
abfolutely  determining  the  controverfy  between 
Calvinifts  and  Arminians^  concerning  the  neceffity 
of  fuch  a  freedom  of  will  as  is  infifled  on  by  the 
latter,  in  order  to  moral  agency,  virtue,  com 
mand  or  prohibition,  promife  or  threatening,  re 
ward  or  punifhment,  praife  or  difpraife,  merit  or 
demerit.  I  now  therefore  proceed, 

II.  To  confider  whether  CHRIST,  in  his  holy 
behaviour  on  earth,  was  not  thus  a  moral  agentt 
fubject  to  commands*  promifes,  &c. 

Dr.  Wkiiby  very  often  fpeaks  of  what  he  calls 
a  freedom  ad  utrumlibet^  without  neceffity,  as  re- 
quifite  to  law  and  commands ;  and  fpeaks  of  ne 
ceffity  as  entirely  inconfiftent  with  injunctions  and 
prohibitions.  But  yet  we  read  of  ChrifVs  being 
the  fubjecl:  of  the  commands  of  his  Father,  Job  x. 
1 8.  and  xv.  10.  And  Chriil:  tells  us,  that  every 
thing  that  He  faid,  or  did,  was  in  compliance 
with  commandments  be  Jo  ad  received  of  the  Father ; 
Joh.  xii.  49,  50.  and  xiv  31.  And  we  often  read 
of  Chrift's  obedience  to  his  Father's  commands, 
Rom.  v.  19.  Phil.  ii.  18.  Heb.  v.  8. 

The  forementioned  writer  reprefents  promifes 
offered  as  motives  to  perfons  to  do  their  duty,  or 
a  being  moved  and  induced  by  promifes,  as  utterly  in 
confiftent  with  a  ftate  wherein  perfons  hasre  not  a 
liberty  ad  utrumlibet^  but  are  necelfarily  deter 
mined  to  one.  (See  particularly,  p,  298,  and  311.) 
But  the  thing  which  this  writer  afTerts,  is  de- 
monftrably  falfe,  if  the  Chriftian 'Religion  be  true. 
If  there  be  any  truth  in  Chriftianity  or  the  holy 
Scriptures,  the  man  Chrift  Jefus  had  his  Will  in 
fallibly,  unalterably  and  unfruilrably  determined 

to 


Se&.  IL.  Praife-worthy,  rewar  dalle,  &c.  207 
to  good,  and  that  alone ;  but  yet  he  had  pro- 
mifes  of  glorious  rewards  made  to  Him,  on  con 
dition  of  his  perfevering  in,  and  perfecting  the 
work  which  God  had  appointed  Him ;  Ifa.  liii. 
10,  n,  12.  Pfal.  ii.  and  ex.  If  at.  xlix.  7,  8,  9. — 
In  Luke  xxii.  28,  29.  Chriil  fays  to  his  difciples, 
Te  are  they  which  have  continued  with  me  in  my 
temptations ;  and  I  appoint  unto  you  a  kingdom,  as 
my  Father  hath  appointed  unto  me.  The  word  moft 
properly  fignifies  to  appoint  by  covenant,  or  pro- 
mife.  The  plain  meaning  of  Chrift's  words  is  this : 
"  As  you  have  partook  of  my  temptations  and 
"  trials,  and  have  been  fledfaft,  and  have  over- 
"  come ;  I  promife  to  make  you  partakers  of 
"  my  reward,  and  to  give  you  a  kingdom  ;  as  the 
"  Father  has  promiled  me  a  kingdom  for  conti- 
<c  nuing  fledfaft,  and  overcoming  in  thofe  trials." 
And  the  words  are  well  explained  by  thofe  in 
Rev.  Hi.  21.  To  him  that  o-vercometh,  will  I  grant 
to  Jit  with  me  on  my  throne  \  even  as  I  alfo  overcame, 
and  am  fet  down  with  my  Father  in  his  throne.  And 
Chrift  had  not  only  promifes  of  glorious  fuccefs 
and  rewards  made  to  his  obedience  and  fuffer- 
ings,  but  the  Scriptures  plainly  reprefent  Him  as 
ufing  thefe  promifes  for  motives  and  inducements 
to  obey  and  fuffer  ;  and  particularly  that  promife 
of  a  kingdom  which  the  Father  had  appointed 
Him,  or  fitting  with  the  Father  on  his  throne  ; 
as  in  Heb.  xii.  1,2.  Let  us  lay  afide  every  weight, 
and  the  Jin  which  doth  eafily  loefet  us,  and  let  us  run 
with  patience  the  race  that  is  fet  before  its,  looking 
unto  Jefus  the  Author  and  Finijher  of  our  faith ;  who 
for  the  joy  that  was  fet  before  Him,  endured  the  crofs, 
defpipng  the  Jhame,  and  is  fet  down  on  the  right  hand 
of  the  throne  of  God. 

And  how  ftrange  would  it  be  to  hear  any  Chrif- 
tian  afTerr,  that  the  holy  and  excellent  temper 

and 


208  CHRIST'S  Righteoufnefs         Part  III; 

and  behaviour  of  Jefus  Chrift,  and  that  obedi 
ence,  which  he  performed  under  fuch  great  trials, 
was  not  virtuous  or  praife-wortby ;  becaufe  his 
Will  was  not  free  ad  utrumque,  to  either  holinefs 
or  fin,  but  was  unalterably  determined  to  one  ; 
that  upon  this  account,  there  is  no  virtue  at  all, 
in  all  ChrirVs  humility,  meeknefs,  patience, 
charity,  forgivenefs  of  enemies,  contempt  of 
the  world,  heavenly-mindednefs,  fubmilTion  to 
the  Will  of  God,  perfect  obedience  to  his  com 
mands,  (though  He  was  obedient  unto  death, 
even  the  death  of  the  crofs)  his  great  companion. 
to  the  afrli&ed,  his  unparalleled  love  to  mankind, 
his  faithfulnefs  to  God  and  man,  under  fuch  great 
trials ;  his  praying  for  his  enemies,  even  when 
nailing  Him  to  the  crofs  ;  that  virtue,  when  ap 
plied  to  thefe  things,  is  but  an  empty  name-,  that 
there  was  no  merit  in  any  of  thefe  things  ;  that 
is,  that  Chriit  was  worthy  of  nothing  at  all  on  the 
account  of  them,  worthy  of  no  reward,  no  praife, 
no  honour  or  refpect  from  God  or  Man  ;  be 
caufe  his  Will  was  not  indifferent,  and  free  either 
to  thefe  things,  or  the  contrary  ;  but  under  fuch 
a  ftrong  inclination  or  bias  to  the  things  that 
were  excellent,  as  made  it  impqffible  that  he  mould 
chufe  the  contrary ;  that  upon  this  account  (to 
ufe  Dr.  Wkittys  language)  it  would  be  fenftbly  un- 
reafonable  that  the  human  nature  ihould  be  re 
warded  for  any  of  thefe  things. 

According  to  this  doctrine,  that  creature  who 
is  evidently  let-forth  in  Scripture  as  the  firft-born 
of  every  creature,  as  having  in  all  things  the  pre 
eminence,  and  as  the  higher!  of  all  creatures  in  vir 
tue,  honour,  and  worthinefs  of  efteem,  praife 
and  glory,  on  the  account  of  his  virtue,  is  lefs 
worthy  of  rev/ard  or  praife,  than  the  very  leaft 
of  faints  j  yea,  no  more  worthy  than  a  clock  or 

meer 


.  II*  Praife-wortly,  rewardable,  &:c.  209 
meer  machine,  that  is  purely  paffive,  and  moved 
by  natural  neceflity. 

If  we  judge  by  fcriptural  reprefentations  of 
things,  we  have  reafon  to  fuppofe,  that  Chrift 
took  on  him  our  nature,  and  dwelt  with  us  in  this 
world,  in  a  fuffering  Hate,  not  only  to  fatisfy  for 
our  fins ;  but  that  He,  being  in  our  nature  and 
circumftances,  and  under  our  trials,  might  be 
our  moft  fit  and  proper  example,  leader  and 
captain,  in  the  exercife  of  glorious  and  victorious 
virtue^  and  might  be  a  vifible  inftance  of  the 
glorious  end  and  reward  of  it ;  that  we  might 
fee  in  Him  the  beauty,  amiablenefs,  and  true 
honour  and  glory,  and  exceeding  benefit,  of  that 
Virtue,  which  it  is  proper  for  us  human  beings  to 
pradife  •,  and  might  thereby  learn,  and  be  ani 
mated,  to  feek  the  like  glory  and  honour,  and 
to  obtain  the  like  glorious  reward.  See  Ileb.  ii. 
9,-^- 1 4,  with  v.  8,  9.  and  xii.  1,2,  3.  John  xv.  10. 
Rom.  viii.  17.  2  'Tim.  ii.  1 1,  12.  i  Pet.  ii.  19,  20. 
and  iv.'  13.  But  if  there  was  nothing  of  any 
virtue  or  merit,  or  worthinefs  of  any  reward, 
glory,  praife  or  commendation  at  all,  in  all  that 
He  did,  becaufe  it  \vas  all  necdfary,  and  He 
could  not  help  it ;  then  how  is  here  any  thing  fo 
proper  to  animate  and  incite  us,  free  creatures, 
by  patient  continuance  in  well-doing,  to  feek  for 
honour.,  glory,  and  virtue  ? 

God  fpeaks  of  Himfelf  as  peculiarly  well-pleafed 
with  the  righteoufnefs  of  this  fervant  of  his. 
Ifai.  xlii.  21.  Tbe  Lord  is  well  pie afed  for  kis  Rigk- 
teoufmfs  fake.  The  facrifices  of  old  are  fpoken  of 
as  a  fweet  favour  to  God,  but  the  obedience  of 
Chrift  as  far  more  acceptable  than  they.  Pfal.  xl. 
6,  7.  Sacrifice  and  offering  Thou  did  ft  not  defire  : — 
Mine  ear  haft  Tkou  opened  [as  thy  fervant  per- 
P  forming 


2 TO  CHRIST'S  Righreoufnefs         Part  III. 

forming  willing  obedience  ;]  burnt-offering  and 
fin-offering  haft  thou  not  required :  then  faid  I,  Lo, 
I  come  [as  a  fervant  that  chearfully  anfwers  the 
calls  of  his  matter :]  /  delight  to  do  thy  will,  0  my 
Cod,  and  thy  law  is  within  mine  heart.  Matthew 
xvii.  5.  Ihis  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well- 
f  leafed.  And  Chrift  tells  us  exprefsly,  that  the 
Father  loves  Him  for  that  wonderful  inftance  of 
his  obedience,  his  voluntary  yielding  himfelf  to 
death,  in  compliance  with  the  Father's  command, 
John  x.  17,  1 8.  Therefore  doth  my  Father  love 
me,  becaufe  1  lay  down  my  life  : — No  man  taketh  it 
from  me  ;  hit  I  lay  it  down  of  myfelfj—This  command 
ment  received  I  of  my  Father. 

And  if  there  was  no  merit  in  Chrift's  obedience 
unto  death,  if  it  was  not  worthy  of  praife,  and 
of  the  moil  glorious  rewards,  the  heavenly  hofts 
were  exceedingly  miftaken,  by  the  account  that 
is  given  of  them,  in  Rev.  v.  8, — 12. — Ihe  four 
leafts  and  the  four  and  twenty  elders  fell  down  before 
tbe  Lamb,  having  every  one  oj  them  harps,  and  gol 
den  vials  full  of  odours  -, — and  they  fung  a  new  Jong, 
faying,  Thou  art  7/ORTHT  to  take  the  book,  and  to 
open  the  feals  thereof-,  for  'Thou  waftjlain. — And  I 
beheld,  and  I  heard  the  voice  of  many  angels  round 
about  the  Throne,  and  the  beafts,  and  the  elders,  and 
the  number  of  them  was  ten  tboufand  times  ten  thou- 
fand,  and  thoufands  of  thoufands,  faying  with  a  loud 
voice,  WORTHT  is  the  Lamb  that  was  jlain,  td 
'receive  power,  and  riches,  and  wifdom,  andftrength^ 
and  honour,  and  glory,  and  blejjing. 

Chrift  fpeaks  of  the  eternal  life  which  He  was 
to  receive,  as  the  reward  of  his  obedience  to  the 
Father's  commandments.  John  xii.  49,  50.  I 
have  not  ffoken  of  my f elf ;  but  the  Father  which  fent 
me,  He  gave  me  a  commandment  what  IJhouldfay, 

and 


Sect.  II.  Praife-worthy  and  rewardable,  &c.  211 
and  what  IJhould  fpeak  :  and  I  know  that  his  com 
mandment  is  life  everlafting :  whatfoever  I  fpeak 
therefore^  even  as  the  Father  faid  unto  me^fo  I  fpeak. 
— God  promifes  to  divide  him  a  portion  with  the 
great,  &c.  for  his  being  his  righteous  Servant, 
for  his  glorious  virtue  under  fuch  great  trials  and 
afflictions,  Ifai.  liii.  n,  12.  He foallfre  the  tra 
vel  of  his  foul  and  be  fatisfied :  by  his  knowledge 
fhall  my  righteous  Servant  jujiify  many  \  for  he  jhall 
bear  their  iniquities,  therefore  will  I  divide  him  a 
portion  with  the  great ,  and  he  ft  all  divide  the  fpoil 
with  the  ftrong^  becaufe  he  hath  poured  out  his  foul 
unto  death. — The  Scriptures  reprefent  God  as  re- 
\varding  Him  far  above  all  his  other  fervants, 
Phil.  ii.  7,  8,  9.  He  took  on  Him  the  form  of  a 
fervant,  and  was  made  in  the  likenefs  of  men  :  and 
being  found  in  fajhion  as  a  man^  He  humbled  himfelf^ 
and  became  obedient  unto  death ,  even  the  death  of  the 
crofs :  wherefore  GOD  alfo  hath  highly  exalted  Him, 
and  given  Him  a  Name  above  every  Name.  Pfal.  xlv. 
7.  Thou  loveft  right  eoufnefs,  and  hat  eft  wickednefs  -9 
therefore  God,  thy  God,  hath  anointed  *Thee  with 
the  oil  of  gladnefs  above  thy  fellows. 

There  is  no  room  to  pretend,  that  the  glorious 
benefits  bellowed  in  confequence  of  Chrift's  obe 
dience,  are  not  properly  of  the  nature  of  a  re 
ward.  What  is  a  reward,  in  the  moft  proper 
fenfe,  but  a  benefit  beftowed  in  confequence  of 
fomething  morally  excellent  in  quality  or  beha 
viour,  in  teflimony  of  wcll-pleafednefs  in  that 
moral  excellency,  and  refpedt  and  favour  on 
that  account  ?  If  we  conlider  the  nature  of  a  re 
ward  moft  ftrictly,  and  make  the  utmoft  of  tt, 
and  add  to  the  things  contained  in  this  defcrip- 
tion,  proper  merit  or  worthinefs,  and  the  be- 
liowment  of  the  benefit  in  confequence  of  a  pro- 
jnifej  fliil  it  will  be  found,  there  is  nothing  be- 

P  2  longing 


2i^  CHRIST'S  Righteoufnefs,  &c.  Part  III. 
longing  to  it,  but  that  the  Scripture  is  moil  ex- 
prefs  as  to  its  belonging  to  the  glory  bellowed  on 
Chrift,  after  his  fufferings  •,  as  appears  from  what 
has  been  already  obferved  :  there  was  a  glorious 
benefit  bellowed  in  confluence  of  fomething 
morally  excellent,  being  called  Righteoufnefs  and 
Obedience  •,  there  was  great  favour,  love  and 
well-pleaieclnefs,  for  this  righteoufnefs  and  obe 
dience,  in  the  Beftower ;  there  was  proper  me 
rit,  or  worthinefs  of  the  benefit,  in  the  obedi 
ence  ;  it  was  bellowed  in  fulfilment  of  promifes, 
made  to  that  obedience ;  and  was  bellowed 
therefore,  or  becaufe  he  had  performed  that  obe 
dience. 

I  may  add  to  all  thefe  things,  that  Jefus  Chrifl, 
while  here  in  the  flefh,  was  manifeftly  in  a  ilate 
of  trial.  The  laft  Adam,  as  Chrifl  is  called, 
i  Cor.  xv.  45.  Rom.  v.  14.  taking  on  Him  the 
human  nature,  and  fo  the  form  of  a  fervant, 
and  being  under  the  law,  to  ftand  and  aft  for  us, 
was  put  into  a  flate  of  trial,  as  the  firfl  Adam 
was. — .£)r.  Whilty  mentions  thefe  three  things  as 
evidences  of  peribns  being  in  a  flate  of  trial 
(on  the  five  Points,  p.  298,  299.)  namely,  their 
afflictions  being  fpoken  of  as  their  trials  6r 
temptations,  their  being  the  fubjec~ls  of  promifes, 
and  their  being  expofed  to  Satan's  temptations, 
But  Chrift  was  apparently  the  fubjeft  of  each  of 
thefe.  Concerning  promifes  made  to  Him,  I 
have  fpoken  already.  The  difficulties  and  of- 
Jliftions,  He  met  with  in  the  courfe  of  his  obedi 
ence,  are  called  his  temptations  or  trials,  Luke 
xxii.  28.  Te  are  they  winch  have  continued  with  me 
^^temptations,  or  trials.  Heb.  ii.  18.  For  in 
that  he  Himfelf  hath  fuffsred,  being  tempted  for 
tried]  He  is  able  to  fuccour  them  that  are  tempted. 
And  chap.  iv.  1 5,  IVe  have  not  an  bigb-prieft,  which 

cannot 


Sea.  HI.       Of  tie  Inability  and  Sin,  &c.         213 

cannot  be  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities  ; 
but  was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we  are,  yet 
without  fin.  And  as  to  his  being  tempted  by 
Satan  it  is  what  none  will  difpute* 


ECTION     III. 


ffle  Cafe  ef  jiich  as  are  given  up  of  God  to  Sin, 
and  of  fallen  Man  in  general^  proves  moral  Ne- 
ceffity  and  Inability  to  be  confijlent  with  Blame- 
worthiness. 

DR.  Whiiby  afTerts  freedom,  not  only  from 
co-action,  but  Neceffity,  to  be  efTential  to 
any  thing  deferving  the  name  of  fin,  and  to  an 
action's  being  culpable:  in  thele  words  ^Difcourfe 
on  five  Points,  edit.  3.  p.  348.)  "  If  they  be 
"  thus  neceffitated,  then  neither  their  Sins  of 
"  omiffion  or  com  million  could  defervc  that 
"  name  ;  it  being  erTential  to  the  nature  of  Sin, 
<f  according  to  St.  Auftirfs  definition,  that  it  be 
"  an  a&ion  a  quo  liber -urn  eft  abftinere.  Three 
"  things  feem  plainly  neceflary  to  make  an  ac- 
"  tion  or  omiffion  culpable ;  i .  That  it  be  in 
"  our  power  to  perform  or  forbear  it :  for,  as 
<(  Origen,  and  all  the  Fathers  fay,  no  man  is  blame- 
"  worthy  for  not  doing  what  he  could  not  do." 
And  elfewhere  the  Doctor  infills,  that  "  when  any 
"  do  evil  of  Neceffity,  what  they  do  is  no  vice, 
"  that  they  are  guilty  of  no  fault,  *  are  worthy 
"  of  no  blame,  difpraife,  -j-  or  difhonour,  |  but 
"  are  unblameable."  § 

*  Difcourfeon  five  Points,  p.  347,  360,  361,  377,  f  303, 
326,  329,  and  many  other  places.  J  371.  §  304,  361. 


214        Of  the  Inability  and  Sin  of  fuch     Part  III. 

If  thefe  things  are  true,  in  Dr.  Whitly's  fenfe 
of  Necefiity,  they  will  prove  all  fuch  to  be  blame- 
lefs,  who  are  given  up  of  God   to  Sin,  in  what 
they  commit  after  they  are  thus  given  up.  —  That 
there  is  fuch   a  thing  as  men's  being  judicially 
given  up  to  Sin,  is  certain,  it  the  Scripture  rightly 
informs  us  ;    fuch  a  thing  being  often  there  fpo* 
ken  of:  as  in  Pfal.  Ixxxi.  11.  So  I  gave  them  up  to 
their  own'  hearts  luft^  and  they  walked  in  their  own 
counfeh.  Acts  vii.  42.    Then  God  turned  \  and  gave 
them  up  to  ivorfbip  the  hoft  of  heaven.  Rom.  \.  24. 
Wherefore,  God  alfo  gave  them  up  to  unclean  nefs^ 
through  the  lufts  of  their  own  hearts^  to  difoonotir 
their  own  lodies  between  themf  elves.  Ver.  26.     For 
this  cauje  God  gave  them  up  to  vile  affeftions.  Ver. 
28,  And  even  as  they  did  not  like  to  retain  God  in 
their  knowledge,  God  gave  them  over  to  a  reprobate 
to  do  tbofe  things  that  are  not  convenient. 


It  is  needlefs  to  (land  particularly  to  inquire, 
what  God's  giving  men  up.  to  their  own  hearts 
lufts  fignifies  :  it  is  fufEcient  to  obferve,  that 
hereby  is  certainly  meant  God's  fo  ordering  or 
difpofing  things,  in  fome  refpect  or  other,  either 
by  doing  or  forbearing  to  do,  as  that  the  confe- 
quence  iriould  be  men's  continuing  in  their  Sins. 
So  much  as  men  are  given  up  to,  fo  much  is  the 
confequence  of  their  being  given  up,  whether  that 
be  lefs  or  more.  If  God  does  not  order  things  fo, 
by  action  or  permiffion,  that  Sin  will  be  the  con 
fequence,  then  the  event  proves  that  they  are  not 
given  up  to  that  confequence.  If  good  be  the 
confequence,  inftead  of  evil,  then  God's  mercy 
is  to  be  acknowledged  in  that  good  ;  whiclf  mer 
cy  muft  be  contrary  to  God's  judgment  in  giving 
up  to  evil.  If  the  event  mud  prove,  that  they 
are  given  up  to  evil  as  the  confequence,  then  the 
perfons,  who  are  the  fubjedts  of  this  judgment, 

mull 


Sect.  III.      as  are  given  up  to  Sin.  215 

muft  be  the  fubje&s  of  fuch  an  event,  and  fo  the 
event  is  necefTary. 

If  not  only  co-aftion,  but  all  Neceffity,  will  prove 
men  blameleis,  then  Judas  was  blamelefs,  after 
jChrifl  had  given  him  over,  and  had  already  de 
clared  his  certain  damnation,  and  that  he  fhould 
verily  betray  Him.  He  was  guilty  of  no  Sin  in  be- 
traying  his  Matter,  on  this  fuppofition  •,  though 
his  fo  doing  is  fpoken  of  by  Chrift  as  the  moil 
aggravated  Sin,  more  heinous  than  the  Sin  of 
Pilate  in  crucifying  Him.  And  the  Jews  in  Egypt, 
in  Jeremiah's  time,  were  guilty  of  no  Sin,  in  their 
pot  worfhipping  the  true  God,  after  God  had 
fworn  by  bis  great  Name,  that  his  Namefoould  be  no 
more  named  in  the  mouth  of  any  man  of  Judah,  in 
all  the  land  of  Egypt.  Jer.  xliv.  26. 

Dr.  Whltby  (Difc.  on  five  Points,  p.  302,  303) 
denies,  that  men,  in  this  world,  are  ever  fo  given 
up  by  God  to  Sin,  that  their  wills  fhould  be  necei- 
farily  determined  to  evil ;  though  He  owns,  that 
hereby  it  may  become  exceeding  difficult  for  men  to 
do  good,  having  a  ftrpng  bent,  and  powerful  in 
clination,  to  what  is  evil.— But  if  we  fhould  al 
low  the  cafe  to  be  jufl  as  he  reprefents,  the  judg 
ment  of  giving  up  to  Sin  will  no  better  agree 
wijth  his  notions  of  that  liberty,  which  is  eifen- 
tial  to  praife  or  blame,  than  if  we  fhould  fup- 
pofe  it  to  render  the  avoiding  of  Sin  impojjible* 
For  if  an  impqffihility  of  avoiding  Sin  wholly  ex- 
cufes  a  man  •,  then,  for  the  fame  reafon,  its  be 
ing  difficult  to  avoid  it,  excufes  him  in  part ;  and 
this  juft  in  proportion  to  the  degree  of  difficulty. 
— If  the  influence  of  moral  impoflibility  or  In 
ability  be  the  fame,  to  excufe  perfons  in  not  do 
ing,  or  not  avoiding  any  thing,  as  that  of  na 
tural  Inability,  (^ which  is  iuppofed)  then  undoubt- 
P  4  edly 


2 1 6  Of  the  Inability  and  Sin  of' fuck  Fart  III, 
edly,  in  like  manner,  moral  difficulty  has  the  fame 
influence  to  excufe  with  natural* difficulty.  But  ail 
allow,  that  natural  impofiibility  wholly  excufes, 
and  alfo  that  natural  difficulty  excufes  in  part,  and 
makes  the  aft  or  omiflion  lefs  blameable  in  pro 
portion  to  the  difficulty.  'All  natural  difficulty, 
according  to  the  plaineft  dictates  of  the  light  of 
nature,  excufes  in  fome  degree,  fo  that  the  neg- 
Ifct  is  not  fo  blameable,  as  if  there  had  been  no 
difficulty  in  the  cafe :  and  fo  the  greater  the  dif 
ficulty  is,  itill  the  more  excufeable,  in  proportion 
to  the  increafe  of  the  difficulty.  And  'as  natural 
impoflibility  wholly  excufes  and  excludes  all 
blame,  fo  the  nearer  the  difficulty  approaches  to 
impoffibility,  ftill  the  nearer  a  perlon  is  to  blame- 
leifnefs  in  proportion  to  that  approach.  And  if 
the  cafe  of '  moral  impoflibility  or  Neceflity,  be 
jufl  the  fame  with  natural  Neceffity  or  co-action, 
as  to  influence  to  excufe  a  neglect,  then  alfo,  fpr 
the  fame  reafon,  the  cafe  of  natural  difficulty, 
does  not  differ  in  influence,  to  excufe  a  neglect, 
from  moral  difficulty,  arifing  from  a  ftrong  bias 
or  bent  to  evil,  fuch  as  Dr.  Wb'itby  owns  in  the 
cafe  of  thofe  that  are  given  up  to  their  own  hearts 
lulls.  So  that  the  fault  of  fuch  peribns  rmift  be 
lefTened,  in  proportion  to  the  difficulty,  and  ap 
proach  to  impoffibility.  If  ten  degrees  of  moral 
difficulty  make  the  action  quite  impoffible,  and 
fo  wholly  excufe,  then  if  there  be  nine  degrees  of 
difficulty,  the  perfon  is  in  great  part  excufed, 
and  is  nine  degrees  in  ten,,  lefs  blame-worthy, 
than  if  .there  had  been  no  difficulty  at  all;  and 
he  has  but  one  degree  of  blame-worthinefs.  The 
reafon  is  plain,  on  Arminlan  principles  ;  viz.  be- 
caufe  as  difficulty,  by  antecedent  bent  and  bias 
on  the  will,  is  increafed,  liberty  of  indifference, 
and  felf-determination  in  the  will,  is  diminilhed  : 
fo  much  hindrance  and  impediment  is  there,  in 
i  the 


Sect.  Ill,        as  are  given  up  to  Sin.  217 

the  way  of  the  will's  acting  freely,  by  meer 
felf-determination.  And  if  ten  degrees  of  fuch. 
hindrance  take  away  all  fuch  liberty,  then  nine 
degrees  take  away  nine  parts  in  ten,  and  leave 
but  one  degree  of  liberty.  And  therefore  there 
is  but  one  degree  of  blameablenefs,  cateris  pari- 
lous,  in  the  neglect ;  the  man  being  no  further 
blameable  in  what  he  does,  or  neglects,  than  he 
has  liberty  in  that  affair  :  for  blame  or  praife  (fay 
they;  arifes  wholly  from  a  good  ufe  or  abufe  of 
liberty. 

From  all  which  it  follows,  that  a  ftrong  bent 
and  bias  one  way,  and  difficulty  of  going  the 
contrary,  never  caufes  a  perfon  to  be  at  all  more 
expofed  to  Sin,  or  any  thing  blameable  :  becaufe, 
as  the  difficulty  is  increafed,  fo  much  the  lefs  is 
required  and  expected.  Though  in  one  refpect, 
cxpofednefs  to  Sin  or  fault  is  increafed,  viz.  by 
an  increafe  of  expofednefs  to  the  evil  action  or 
omiffion  ;  yet  it  is  diminifhed  in  another  refpect, 
to  balance  it;  namely,  as  the  iinfulnefs  or  blame 
ablenefs  of  the  action  or  omiffion  is  diminifhed 
in  the  fame  proportion.  So  that,  on  the  whole, 
the  affair,  as  to  expofednefs  to  guilt  or  blame,  is 
Jeft  juil  as  it  was. 

To  illuftrate  this,  let  us  fuppofe  a  fcale  of  a 
balance  to  be  intelligent,  and  a  free  agent,  and 
indued  with  a  felf-moving  power,  by  virtue  of 
which  it  could  act  and  produce  effects  to  a  cer 
tain  degree,  ex.  gr.  to  move  itfelf  up  or  down 
with  a  force  equal  to  a  weight  of  ten  pounds  ; 
and  that  it  might  therefore  be  required  of  it,  in 
ordinary  circumftances,  to  move  itfelf  down  with 
that  force  ^  for  which  it  has  power  and  full  li 
berty,  and  therefore  would  be  blame-worthy  if  it 
failed  of  it.  But  then  let  us  fuppofe  a  weight  of 

ten 


2 1 8  Of  tie  Inability  and  Sin        Part  III. 

ten  pounds  to  be  put  in  the  oppofite  fcale,  which 
in  force  entirely  counter-balance  its  felf-moving 
power,  and  fo  renders  it  impoflible  for  it  to  move 
down  at  all ;  and  therefore  wholly  excufes  it  from 
any  fuch  motion.     But  if  we  fuppofe  there  to  be 
only  nine  pounds  in  the  oppofite  fcale,  this  ren 
ders  its  motion  not  impoflible,  but  yet  more  dif 
ficult  ^  fo  that  it  can  now  only  move  down  with 
the  force  of  one   pound  :  but  however,  this  i§ 
all  that  is  required  of  it  under  thefe  circum- 
Hances ;  it  is  wholly  excufed  from  nine  parts  of  its 
motion :  and  if  the  fcale,  under  thefe  circum- 
flances,  negle&s  to  move,  and  remains  at  reft, 
all  that  it  will  be  blamed  for,  will  be  its  neglecl: 
of  that  one  tenth  part  of  its  motion  ;  which  it 
had   as  much  liberty  and  advantage  for,  as  in 
vifual  circumftances,  it  has  for  the  greater  motion, 
which  in  fnch  a  cafe  would  be  required.     So  that 
this  new  difficulty,  does  not  at  all  increafe  its  ex- 
pofednefs  to  any  thing  blame-worthy. 

And  thus  the  very  fuppolition  of  difficulty  in 
the  way  of  a  man's  duty,  or  proclivity  to  Sin, 
through  a  being  given  up  to  hardnefs  of  heart, 
or  indeed  by  any  other  means  whatfoever,  is  an 
inconfiftence,  according  to  Dr.  Wlnttys  notions 
of  liberty,  virtue  and  vice,  blame  and  praife. 
The  avoiding  Sin  and  blame,  and  the  doing  what 
is  virtuous  and  praife-worthy,  mud  be  always 
equally  eafy. 

Dr.  J'VhltWs  notions  of  liberty,  obligation, 
virtue,  Sin,  £$*•  led  him  into  another,  great  in- 
confidence.  He  abundantly  infifts,  that  necef- 
fity  is  inconfiftent  with  the  nature  of  Sin  or 
fault.  He  fays,  in  the  forementioned  trearife, 
p.  14.  Who  can  blame  a  ferfonfor  doing  what  he 
could  not  help  ?  And  p.  15.  it  being  fenfibly  unjuft, 

to. 


Sect.  III.  of  fallen  Man.  219 

to  punijh  any  man  for  doing  that  which  was  never 
in  his  power  to  avoid.  And  in  p.  341,  to  confirm 
his  opinion,  he  quotes  one  of  the  Fathers,  fay 
ing,  Why  doth  God  command,  if  man  hath  not  free 
will  and  power  to  obey  ?  And  again,  in  the  fame  and 
the  next  page,  Who  'will  not  cry  out^  that  it  is  folly 
to  command  him^  that  hath  not  liberty  to  do  what  is 
commanded  ;  and  that  it  is  unjuft  to  condemn  him* 
that  has  it  not  in  his  power  to  do  what  is  required  ? 
And  in  p.  373,  he  cites  another  faying,  A  law 
is  given  to  him  that  can  turn  to  loth  parts  ;  i.  e. 
obey  or  tranfgrefs  it  :  but  no  law  can  be  again/I  him 
who  is  bound  by  nature. 


And  yet  the  fame  Dr.  ^^zV^yafTerts,  that  fallen 
Man  is  not  able  to  perform  perfect  obedience.  In 
p.  165,  he  has  thefe  words:  "  The  nature  of 
"  Adam  had  power  to  continue  innocent,  and 
<c  without  Sin  ;  whereas,  it  is  certain  our  nature 
"  never  had  fo."  But  if  we  have  not  power  to 
continue  innocent  and  without  Sin,  then  Sin  is 
inconfiftent  with  Neceftlty,  and  we  maybe  finful 
in  that  which  we  have  not  power  to  avoid  ;  and 
thofe  things  cannot  be  true,  which  he  aflerts  elfe- 
\vhere,  namely,  "  That  if  we  be  neceffitated, 
"  neither  Sins  of  omiilion  nor  commifllon, 
"  would  deferve  that  name,"  (p.  348.)  If  we  have 
it  not  in  our  power  to  be  innocent,  then  we  have 
it  not  in  our  power  to  be  blamelefs:  and  if  fo,  we 
are  under  a  Neceflity  of  being  blame  -worthy. 
And  how  does  this  confiil  with  v/hat  he  fo  often 
afierts,  that  Necefllty  is  inconfiftent  with  blame 
or  praife  ?  If  we  have  it  not  in  our  power  to  per 
form  perfect  obedience  to  all  the  commands  of 
God,  then  we  are  under  a  Necefiity  of  breaking 
fome  commands,  in  fome  degree-,  having  no 
power  to  perform  fo  much  as  is  commanded. 
And  if  fo,  why  does  he  cry  out  of  the  unreafon  - 

ablenefs 


220         Of  the  Inability  of  fallen  Man,     Part  III, 

ablenefs  and  folly  of  commanding  beyond  whafc 
men  have  power  to  do  ? 

And  Armenians  in  general  are  very  inconfiftent 
with  themfelves  in  what  they  fay  of  the  Inability 
of  fallen  Man  in  this  refpect.  They  ftrenuoufly 
maintain,  that  it  would  be  unjuft  in  God,  to  re 
quire  any  thing  of  us  beyond  our  prefent  power 
and  ability  to  perform  ;  and  alfo  hold,  that  we 
are  now  unable  to  perform  perfect  obedience,  and 
that  Chrift  died  to  fatisfy  for  the  imperfections  of 
cur  obedience,  and  has  made  way,  that  our  imper 
fect  obedience  might  be  accepted  inftead  of  per 
fect  :  whereiii  they  feem  infenfibly  to  run  them 
felves  into  the  groffeft  inconfiftence.  For,  (as  I 
have  obferved  elfewhere)  "  they  hold,  that  God, 
*'  in  mercy  to  mankind,  has  abolifhed  that  rigor- 
<c  ous  conftitution  or  law,  that  they  were  under 
w  originally  •,  and  inftead  of  it,  has  introduced  a 
"  more  mild  conftitution,  and  put  us  under  a 
*c  new  law,  which  requires  no  more  than  imper- 
"  feet  fincere  obedience,  in  compliance  winh  our 
*c  poor  infirm  impotent  circumflances  fmce  the 
*'  fall." 

Now,  how  can  thefe  things  be  made  con- 
fiftent  ?  I  would  a/k,  what  law  thefe  imperfec 
tions  of  our  obedience  are  a  breach  of?  If  they 
are  a  breach  of  no  law,  that  we  were  ever  under, 
then  they  are  not  Sins.  And  if  they  be  not  Sins, 
what  need  of  Chrift's  dying  to  fatisfy  for  them  ? 
But  if  they  are  Sins,  and  the  breach  of  fome 
law,  what  law  is  it  ?  They  cannot  be  a  breach  of 
their  new  law ;  for  that  requires  no  other  than 
imperfect  obedience,  or  obedience  with  imper- 
fedions  :  and  therefore  to  have  obedience  attend 
ed  with  im perfections,  is  no  breach  of  it ;  for  it 
is  as  much  as  it  requires.  And  they  cannot  be  a 

breach 


Se6t. '  III.  Of  tie  Inability  of  fallen  Man.  22! 
breach  of  their  old  law  ;  for  that,  they  fay,  is 
entirely  abolifhed  ;  and  we  never  were  under  it. — 
They  fay,  it  would  not  be  juft  in  God  to  require 
of  us  perfed:  obedience,  becanfe  it  would  not  be 
juft  to  require  more  than  we  can  perform,  or  to 
punifh  us  for  failing  of  it.  And,  therefore,  by 
their  own  fcheme,  the  imperfections  of  our  obe 
dience  do  not  deferve  to  be  punifhed.  What  need 
therefore  of  Ch rift's  dying,  to  fatisfy  for  them  ? 
What  need  of  his  fuffering,  to  fatisfy  for  that 
which  is  no  fault,  and  in  its  own  nature  de- 
ferves  no  fa-fen ng  f  What  need  of  (Thrift's  dying, 
to  purchafe,  that  our  imperfett  obedience  fhould 
be  accepted,  when,  according  to  their  fcheme,  in 
would  be  unjuft  in  itfelf,  that  any  other  obedi 
ence  than  imperfeft  fhould  be  required  ?  What 
need  of  (Thrift's  dying  to  make  way  for  God's 
accepting  fuch  an  obedience,  as  it  would  be  un- 
juft  in  Him  not  to  accept  ?  Is  there  any  need  of 
(Thrift's  dying,  to  prevail  with  God  not  to  do 
unrighteoufly  ? — If  it  be  faid,  that  Chritl  died  to 
fatisfy  that  old  law  for  us,  that  fo  we  might  nqt 
be  under  it,  but  that  there  might  be  room  for 
our  being  under  a  more  mild  la\v  ;  ftill  I  would 
inquire,  what  need  of  (Thrift's  dying,  that  we 
might  not  be  under  a  law,  which  (by  their  prin 
ciples)  it  would  be  in  itfelf  unjuft  that  we  fhould 
be  under,  whether  Chrifi  had  died  or  no,  be 
canfe,  in  our  prefent  ftate,  we  are  not  able  to 
keep  it  ? 

So  the  Armenians  are  inconfiilent  with  them- 
felves,  not  only  in  what  they  fay  of  the  need  of 
Chrift's  fatisfacYion  to  atone  for  thofe  imperfec 
tions,  which  we  cannot  avoid,  but  alfo  in  what 
they  fay  of  the  grace  of  God,  granted  to  enable 
men  to  perform  the  fmcere  obedience  of  the  new 

law. 


£22  Of  Inability,  and  Obligation.  Part  III. 
law.  "  I  grant  (fays  Dr.  Sf  ebbing *)  indeed,  that 
"  by  reafon  of  original  Sin,  we  are  utterly  dif- 
*c  abled  for  the  performance  of  the  condition, 
*c  without  new  grace  from  God.  But  I  fay  then, 
*6  that  he  gives  fuch  a  grace  to  all  of  us,  by 
"  which  the  performance'  of  the  condition  is 
"  truly  poflible :  and  upon  this  ground  he  may, 
"•  and  doth  moft  righteouily  require  it."  If  Dr. 
Stebbing  intends  to  fpeak  properly,  by  grace  he 
mud  mean,  that  afiiitance  which  is  of  grace,  or 
of  free  favour  and  kindnefs.  But  yet  in  the  fame 
place  he  fpeaks  of  it  as  very  unreafonable,  unjuft 
and  cruel,  for  God  to  require  that,  as  the  con 
dition  of  pardon,  that  is  become  impoflible  by 
original  Sin.  If  it  be  fo,  what  grace  is  there  in 
giving  afiiitance  and  ability  to  perform  the  con 
dition  of  pardon  ?  Or  why  is  that  called  by  the 
name  of  grace,  that  is  an'abfolute  debt,  which 
God  is  bound  to  beftow,  and  which  it  would  be 
unjuft  and  cruel  in  Him  to  with-hold,  feeing  he 
requires  that,  as  the  condition  of  pardon,  which  h£ 
cannot  perform  without  it  ? 

SECTION      IV. 

Command  and  Obligation  to  Obedience,  conjijlent 
ivitb  moral  Inability  to  obey. 

IT  being  fo  much  infilled  on  by  Armnian  wri 
ters,  that  neceflity  is  inconfiftent  with  Law  or 
Command,  and  particularly,  that  it  is  abfurd  to 
fuppofe  God  by  his  Command  ihould  require  that 
of  men  which  they  are  unable  to  do ;  not  allow 
ing  in  this  cafe  for  any  difference  that  there  is 

between 


*  Treatife  of  the  Operations  of  the  Spirit, 

112,    113. 


Stct.  IV»      Commands  confijlent, ,  &c.  223 

between  natural  and  moral  Inability  -,  I  would 
therefore  now  particularly  coniider  this  matter. 

And,  for  the  greater  clearnefs,    I  would  di- 
ftinctly  lay  down  the  following  things. 

I.  The  will  itfelf,  and  not  only  thofe  actions 
which  are  the  effects  of  the  will,  is  the  proper 
object  of  Precept  or  Command.  This  is,  liich 
or  fuch  a  ftate  or  acts  of  men's  wills,  is  in  many 
cafes,  properly  required  of  them  by  Commands  ; 
and  not  only  thofe  alterations  in  the  flate  of 
their  bodies  ^or  minds  that  are  the  confequences 
of  volition.  This  is  mod  manifeft;  for  it  is 
the  foul  only  that  is  properly  and  directly  the 
fubject  of  Precepts  or  Commands ;  that  only  be 
ing  capable  of  receiving  or  perceiving  Commands. 
The  motions  or  ftate  of  the  body  are  matter  of 
Command,  only  as  they  are  fubject  to  the  foul, 
and  connected  with  its  acts.  But  now  the  foul 
has  no  other  faculty  whereby  it  can,  in  the  mod 
direct  and  proper  fenfe,  confent,  yield  to,  or 
comply  with  any  Command,  but  the  faculty  of 
the  will ;  and  it  is  by  this  faculty  only,  that  the 
foul  can  directly  difobey,  or  refufe  compliance : 
for  the  very  notions  of  conferring,  yielding,  ac 
cepting^  complying,  refujing,  rejecting,  &c.  are,  ac 
cording  to  the  meaning  of  the  terms,  nothing 
but  certain  acts  of  the  will.  Obedience,  in  the 
primary  nature  of  it,  is  the  fubmitting  and  yield 
ing  of  the  will  of  one  to  the  will  of  another. 
Difobedience  is  the  not  confenting,  not  complying 
of  the  will  of  the  commanded  to  the  manifefted 
will  of  the  commander.  Other  acts  that  are 
not  the  acts  of  the  will,  as  certain  motions  of 
the  body  and  alterations  in  the  foul,  are  Obedi 
ence  or  Difobedience  only  indirectly,  as  they  are 
connected  with  the  ftate  or  actions  of  the  will, 

according 


224  Commands  cdnjiftent          Part  IIL 

according  to  an  eftablifhed  law  of  nature.  So 
that  it  is  manifeft,  the  will  itfelf  may  be  requir 
ed  :  and  the  being  of  a  good  will  is  the  moft 
proper,  aired:  and  immediate  fubjed  of  Com 
mand  ;  and  if  this  cannot  be  prescribed  or  re 
quired  by  Command  or  Precepr,  nothing  can ;  for 
other  things  can  be  required  no  otherwiie  than  as 
they  depend  upon,  and  are  the  fruits  of  a  good 
will. 

CoroL  i.  If  there  be  feveral  acts  of  the  will, 
or  a  feries  of  ads,  one  following  another,  and 
one  the  effect  of  another,  the  fir.fi  and  determining 
affi  is  properly  the  fubjed  of  Command,  and  not 
only  the  consequent  ads,  which  are  dependent 
upon  it.  Yea,  it  is  this  more  efpecially,  which 
is  that,  which  Command  or  Precept  has  a  proper 
refped  to  ;  becaufe  it  is  this  ad  that  determines 
the  whole  affair:  in  this  ad  the  Obedience  or 
Difobedience  lies, in  a  peculiar  manner;  the  con- 
fequent  ads  being  all  fubjed  to  it,  and  governed 
and  determined  by  it.  This  determining  govern* 
ing  ad  muft  be  the  proper  objed  of  Precept, 
or  none. 

CoroL  2.  It  alfo  follows,  from  what  has  been 
obfervcd,  that  if  there  be  any  fort  of  ad,  or 
exertion  of  the  foul,  prior  to  all  free  ads  of  the 
will  or  ads  of  choice  in  the  cafe,  directing  and 
determining,  what  the  ads  of  the  will  ihall  be  ; 
that  ad  or  exertion  of  the  foul  cannot  properly 
be  fubjed  to  any  Command  or  Precept,  in  any 
refped  whatfoever,  either  diredly  or  indirectly, 
immediately  or  remotely.  Such  ads  cannot  be 
fubject  to  Commands  direftly^  becaufe  they  are 
no  acts  of  the  will  -y  being  by  the  fuppoiition  prior 
to  all  acts  of  the  will,  determining  and  giving 
rife  to  alj  its  ads :  they  not  being  ads  of  the 

will, 


Sect,  IV.         with  moral  Inability.  225 

will,  there  can  be  in  them  no  confent  to,  or 
compliance  with  any  Command.  Neither  can 
they  be  fubject  to  Command  or  Precept  indirectly 
or  remotely  ;  for  they  are  not  fo  much  as  the  effefts 
Or  conferences  of  the  will,  being  prior  to  all  its 
ads.  So  that  if  there  be  any  Obedience  in  that 
original  act  of  the  foul,  determining  all  voli 
tions,  it  is  an  ad:  of  Obedience  wherein  the  will 
has  no  concern  at  all  ;  it  preceding  every  act  of 
will.  And  therefore,  if  the  foul  either  obeys  or 
difobeys  in  this  act,  it  is  wholly  involuntarily  ; 
there  is  nc  willing  Obedience  or  rebellion,  no 
compliance  or  oppofition  of  the  will  in  the  af 
fair  :  and  what  fort  of  Obedience  or  rebellion  is 
this  ? 

And  thus  the  Arnnman  notion  of  the  freedom 
of  the  will  confiding  in  the  foul's  determining 
its  own  acts  of  will,  inftead  of  being  effemial 
to  moral  agency,  and  to  men's  being  the  fub- 
jects  of  moral  government,  is  utterly  inconii- 
itent  with  it.  For  if  the  foul  determines  all  its 
acts  of  will,  it  is  therein  fubject  to  no  Com 
mand  or  moral  government,  as  has  been  now 
obferved  ;  becaufe  its  original  determining  act  is 
no  act  of  will  or  choice,  it  being  prior,  by  the 
fuppofition,  to  every  act  of  will.  And  the  foul 
cannot  be  the  fubjecl:  of  Command  in  the  act  of 
the  will  itfelf,  which  depends  on  the  foregoing 
determining  acl,  and  is  determined  by  it  •,  in  as 
much  as  this  is  neceffary,  being  the  neceilary 
conlequence  and  effect  of  that  prior  determining 
act,  which  is  not  voluntary.  Nor  can  the  man 
be  the  fubjedl  of  Command  or  government  in 
his  external  actions ;  becaufe  thefe  are  all  necef- 
fary,  being  the  neceffary  effects  of  the  acts  of 
the  will  themfelves.  So  that  mankind,  accord 
ing  to  this  fcheme,  are  fubjects  of  Command  or 

moral 


226  Commands  confident          Part  IIL 

moral  government  in  nothing  at  all ;  and  all  their 
moral  agency  is  entirely  excluded,  and  no  room 
for  virtue  or  vice  in  the  world. 

So  that  it  is  the  Arminlan  fcheme,  and  not  the 
fcheme  of  the  C&Ivinifts,  that  is  utterly  inconfiftent 
with  moral  government,  and  with  all  ufe  of 
laws,  precepts,  prohibitions,  promifcs  or  threa- 
tenings.  Neither  is  there  any  way  whatfoever  to 
make  their  principles  confift  with  thefe  things. 
For  if  it  be  faid,  that  there  is  no  prior  determin 
ing  act  of  the  foul,  preceding  the  acts  of  the 
will,  but  that  volitions  are  events  that  come  to 
pafs  by  pure  accident,  without  any  determining 
caufe,  this  is  moft  palpably  inconfiftent  with  all. 
ufe  of  laws  and  precepts  •,  for  nothing  is  more 
plain  than  that  laws  can  be  of  no  ufe  to  direct 
and  regulate  perfect  accident :  which,  by  the  fup- 
pofition  of  its  being  pure  accident,  is  in  no  cafe 
regulated  by  any  thing  preceding  ;  but  happens, 
this  way  or  that,  perfectly  by  chance,  without  any 
caufe  or  rule.  The  perfect  ufeleffnefs  of  laws 
and  precepts  alfo  follows  from  the  Armiman  no 
tion  of  indifference,  as  eflential  to  that  liberty, 
which  is  requifite  to  virtue  or  vice.  For  the 
end  of  Jaws  is  to  bind  to  one  fide ;  and  the  end 
of  Commands  is  to  turn  the  will  one  way  :  and 
therefore  they  are  of  no  ufe,  unlefs  they  turn  or 
bias  the  will  that  way.  But  if  liberty  confifts 
in  indifference,  then  their  biafllng  the  will  one 
way  only,  deflroys  liberty ;  as  it  puts  the  will 
out  of  equilibrium.  So  that  the  will,  having  a 
bias,  through  the  influence  of  binding  law,  laid 
upon  it,  is  not  wholly  left  to  itfelf,  to  determine 
itfelf  which  way  it  will,  without  influence  from 
without. 

II.  Hav- 


Seel:.  IV.  with  Moral  Inability.  227 

II.  Having  ihewn  that  the  will  itfelf,  efpe- 
daily  in  thofe  acts,  which  are  original,  leading 
and  determining  in  any  cafe,  is  the  proper  fub- 
je6l  of  Precept  and  Command,  and  not  only  thofe 
alterations  in  the  body,  &c.  which  are  the  effects 
of  the  will;  I  now  proceed,  in  the  fecond  place, 
to  obferve  that  the  very  oppofition  or  defect  of 
the  will  itfelf,  in  that  ad:,  which  is  its  original 
and  determining  aft  in  the  cafe  ;  I  fay,  the  will's 
oppofition  in  this  aft  to  a  thing  propofed  or  com 
manded,  or  its  failing  of  compliance,  implies  a 
moral  Inability  to  that  thing  :  or,  in  other  words, 
whenever  a  Command  requires  a  certain  ftate  or 
ad:  of  the  will,  and  the  perfon  commanded, 
notwithftanding  the  Command  and  the  circum- 
flances  under  wrhich  it  is  exhibited,  fr.il!  finds  his 
will  oppofite  or  wanting,  in  that,  belonging  to 
its  flate  or  acts,  which  is  original  and  determining 
in  the  affair,  that  man  is  morally  unable  to  obey 
that  Command. 

This  is  manifefl  from  what  wasobferved  in  the 
firft  part,  concerning  the  nature  of  moral  Inabi 
lity,  as  diftinguifhed  from  natural:  where  it  was 
obferved,  that  a  man  may  then  be  faid  to  be 
morally  unable  to  do  a  thing,  when  he  is  under 
the  influence  or  prevalence  of  a  contrary  inclina 
tion,  or  has  a  want  of  inclination,  under  fuch 
circumftances  and  views.  It  is  alfo  evident,  from 
what  has  been  before  proved,  that  the  will  is  al 
ways,  and  in  every  individual  aft,  neceflarily  de 
termined  by  the  ilrongeil  motive ;  and  fo  is  al 
ways  unable  to  go  againft  the  motive,  which,  all 
things  confidered,  has  now  the  gteatefl  ftrength 
and  advantage  to  move  the  will. — But  not  fur 
ther  to  infift  on  thefe  things,  the  truth  of  the 
polition  now  laid  down,  viz.  that  when  the  will 
is  oppofite  /a,  or  failing  of  a  compliance  with  a 
Qja  thing 


228  Commands  conjijlent  Part  III. 

thing  in  its  original  determining  inclination  or  ait, 
it  is  not  able  to  comply,  appears  by  the  confi- 
deration  of  thefe  two  things. 

1.  The  will  in  the  time  of  that  diverfe  or  op- 
pofite   leading  act  or  inclination,  and  when  ac 
tually  under  the  influence  of  it,  is  not  able  to  ex 
ert  itfelf  to  the  contrary,  to  make  an  alteration, 
in  order   to  a  compliance.     The  inclination   is 
unable  to  change  itfelf  •,  and  that  for  this  plain 
reafon,  that  it  is  unable  to  incline  to  change  it 
felf.     Prefent  choice  cannot  at  prefent  chufe  to  be 
otherwife:  for  that  would  be  at  prefent  to  chufe 
fomething  diverfe  from  what  is  at  prefent  chofem 
If  the  will,  all  things  now  confidered,  inclines 
or  chufes  to  go  that  way,  then  it  cannot  chufe, 
all  things  now  confidered,  to  go  the  other  way, 
and  fo  cannot  chufe  to  be  made  to  go  the  other 
\vay.     To  fuppofe  that  the   mind  is  now  fin- 
Cerely  inclined  to  change  itfelf  to  a  different  in 
clination,  is  to  fuppofe  the  mind  is  now  truly 
inclined  otherwife  than  it  is  now  inclined.     The 
will  may  oppofe  fome  future  remote  act  that  it  is 
expofed  to,  but  not  its  own  prefent  act. 

2.  As  it  is  impoflible  that  the  will  mould  com 
ply  with  the  thing  commanded,  with  refpect  to  its 
leading  aft,  by  any  act  of  its  own,  in  the  time 
of  that  diverfe  or  oppolite  leading  and  original 
aft,  or  after  it  has  adually  come  under  the  in- 
fluence  of  that  determining  choice  or  inclination  •,  fo> 
it  is  impofiible  it  fhould  be  determined  to  a  com 
pliance  by  any  foregoing  act ;  for,    by  the  very 
fuppofitibn,  there  is  no  foregoing  act ;  the  op- 
polite  or  non-complying  act  being  that  act  which 
is  original  and  determining  in  the  cafe.     Therefore 
it  muft  be  fo,  that  if  this  firjt  determining  aft  be 

found 


Sect.  IV.         with  moral  Inability.  229 

found  non-complying,  on  the  propofal  of  the 
Command,  the  mind  is  morally  unable  to  obey. 
For  to  fuppofe  it  to  be  able  to  obey,  is  to  fuppofe 
it  to  be  able  to  determine  and  caufe  itsfirft  deter 
mining  aft  to  be  otherwife,  and  that  it  has  power 
better  to  govern  and  regulate  its  firft  governing  and 
regulating  aff,  which  is  abfurd  ;  for  it  is  to  fup 
pofe  a  prior  act  of  the  will,  determining  its  firft 
determining  act ;  that  is,  an  act  prior  to  the  firft, 
and  leading  and  governing  the  original  and  go 
verning  act  of  all  ;  which  is  a  contradiction. 

Here  if  it  ihould  be  faid,  that  although  the 
mind  has  not  any  ability  to  will  contrary  to  what 
it  does  will,  in  the  original  and  leading  act  of  the 
will,  becaufe  there  is  fuppofed  to  be  no  prior  act 
to  determine  and  order  it  otherwife,  and  the  will 
cannot  immediately  change  itfelf,  becaufe  it  can 
not  at  prefent  incline  to  a  change  ;  yet  the  mind 
has  an  ability  for  the  prefent  to  forbear  to  pro 
ceed  to  action,  and  taking  time  for  deliberation  ; 
which  may  be  an  occafipn  of  the  change  of  the 
inclination. 

I  anfwer,  (j.)  In  this  objection  that  feems  to 
be  forgotten  which  was  obferved  before,  yiz.  that 
the  determining  to  take  the  matter  into  confi- 
deration,  is  itfelf  an  act  of  the  will :  and  if 
this  be  all  the  act  wherein  the  mind  exercifes 
ability  and  freedom,  then  this,  by  the  fnppofi- 
tion,  muft  be  all  that  can  be  commanded  or  re- 
guired  by  Precept.  And  if  this  act  be  the  com 
manding  act,  then  all  that  has  been  obferved  con 
cerning  the  commanding  act  of  the  will  remains 
true,  that  the  very  want  of  it  is  a  moral  Inability 
to  exert  it,  t£c.  (2.)  We  are  fpeaking  concern 
ing  the  firft  and  leading  act  of  the  will  in  the 
cafe,  or  abpui  the' affair  •,  and  if  a  determining 

0.3  to 


230  Commands  confident  Part  III. 

to  deliberate,  or,  on  the  contrary,  to  proceed 
immediately  without  deliberating,  be  the  firfl  and 
leading  act  -,  or  whether  it  be  or  no,  if  there 
be  another  act  before  it,  which  determines  that ; 
or  whatever  be  the  original  and  leading  act ;  flill 
the  foregoing  proof  Hand's  good,  that  the  non- 
compliance  of  the  leading  act  implies  moral  Ina 
bility  to  comply. 

If  it  fhould  be  objected,  that  thefe  things 
make  all  moral  Inability  equal,  and  fuppofe  men 
morally  unable  to  will  otherwife  than  they  ac 
tually  do  will,  in  all  cafes,  and  equally  fo  in  every 
Inflance. 

Jn  anfwer  to  this  objection,  I  defire  two  things 
may  be  obferved.  Firfl,  That  if  by  being  equally 
unable  be  meant  as  really  unable ;  then,  Ib  far  as 
the  Inability  is  meerly  moral,  it  is  true,  the  will, 
in  every  inilance,  acts  by  moral  neceflity,  and 
is  morally  unable  to  act  otherwife,  as  truly  and 
properly  in  one  cafe  as  another ;  as  I  humbly 
conceive,  has  been  perfectly  and  abundantly  de- 
monftrated  by  what  has  been  faid  in  the  preced 
ing  part  of  this  Effay.  But  yet,  in  fome  re- 
fpect,  the  Inability  may  be  laid  to  be  greater  in 
iome  inftances  than  others  :  though  the  man  may 
be  truly  unable,  (if  moral  Inability  can  truly  be 
called  Inability,)  yet  he  may  be  further  from  be 
ing  able  to  do  fome  things  than  others.  As  it  is 
in  things,  which  men  are  naturally  unable  to  do. 
A  perfon,  whofe  ftrength  is  no  more  than  fuffi- 
cient  to  lift  the  weight  of  one  hundred  pounds, 
i*  as  truly  and  really  unable  to  lift  one  hundred 
and  one  pounds,  as  ten  thoufand  pounds-,  but 
yet  he  is  further  from  being  able  to  lift  the  latter 
weight  than  the  former;  and  fo,  according  to 
common  ufe  of  fpeech,  has  a  greater  Inability 

lor 


Sect.  IV.          with  moral  Inability.  231 

for  it.  So  it  is  in  moral  Inability.  A  man  is 
truly  morally  unable  to  chufe  contrary  to  a  pre- 
fent  inclination,  which  in  the  lead  degree  pre 
vails  ;  or,  contrary  to  that  motive,  \vhich,  all 
things  confidered,  has  ftrength  and  advantage 
now  to  move  the  will,  in  the  leaft  degree,  fu- 
perior  to  all  other  motives  in  view  :  bu£  yet  he 
is  further  from  ability  to  refift  a  very  ftrong  ha 
bit,  and  a  violent  and  deeply  rooted  inclination, 
or  a  motive  vaftly  exceeding  all  others  in  flrength. 
And  again,  the  Inability  may,  in  fome  refpects,  be 
called  greater  in  fome  inftances  than  others,  as  it 
may  be  more  general  and  extenfiue  to  all  afls  of  that 
kind.  So  men  may  be  faid  to  be  unable  in  a  dif 
ferent  fenfe,  and  to  be  further  from  moral  abi 
lity,  who  have  that  moral  Inability  which  is  gene 
ral  and  habitual,  than  they  who  have  only  that 
Inability  which  is  occajional  and  particular*.  Thus 
in  cafes  of  natural  Inability  ;  he  that  is  born 
blind  may  be  faid  to  be  unable  to  fee,  in  a  diffe 
rent  manner,  and  is,  in  fome  refpects,  further 
from  being  able  to  fee,  than  he  whofe  fight  is 
hindered  by  a  tranfient  cloud  or  mifl. 

And  befides,  that  which  was  obferved  in  the 
firft  part  of  this  difcourfe,  concerning  the  Inability 
which  attends  zjlrong  and  fettle  d  habit  ^  ihould  be 
here  remembered  •,  viz.  that  fixed  habit  is  attend 
ed  with  this  peculiar  moral  Inability,  by  which 
it  is  diftinguiihed  from  occajional  volition  ,  namely, 
that  endeavours  to  avoid  future  volitions  of  that 
kind,  which  are  agreable  to  fuch  a  habit,  much 
more  frequently  and  commonly  prove  vain  and 
inefficient.  For  tho?  it  is  impoilible  there  mould 
be  any  true  fincere  defjres  and  endeavours  a- 


*  See  this  diftinftion  of    moral   Inability  explained  ia 
PART  I.   Sea.W. 


232  Commands  conjrftent  Part  IIL 

gainft  a  prefent  volition  or  choice,  yet  there  may 
be  againlt  volitions  of  that  kind,  when  viewed  at 
a  diftance.  A  perfon  may  defire  and  ufe  means 
to  prevent  future  exerciles  of  a  certain  inclina 
tion  ;  and,  in  order  to  it,  may  wifh  .the  habit 
might  be  removed  ;  but  h-is  de fires  and  endea 
vours  may  be  ineffectual.  The  man  may  be  faicl 
in  fome  fenfe  to  be  unable;  yea,  even  as  the 
word  unable  is  -a  relative  term^  and  has  relation  to 
ineffectual  endeavours ;  yet  not  with  regard  to 
prefent,  but  remote  endeavours. 

Secondly,  It  mud  be  borne  in  mind,  according 
to  what  was  obferved  before,  that  indeed  no  In 
ability  whatfoever,  which  is  mcerly  moral,  is  pro 
perly  called  by  the  name  of  J liability ;  and  that  in 
the  ftrictefl  propriety  of  fpeech,  a  man  may  be 
laid  to  have  a  thing  in  his  power,  if  he  has  it  at 
his  election  ;  and  he  cannot  be  laid  to  be  unable 
to  do  a  thing,  when  he  can,  if  he  now  pleafes, 
or  whenever  he  has  a  proper,  direct  and  immeT 
diate  defire  for  it.  As  to  thofe  defires  and  en 
deavours,  that  may  be  againft  the  exercifes  of  a 
ftrong -habit,  with  regard  to  which  men  may  be 
fold  to  be  unable  to  avoid  thole  exercifes,  they 
are  remote  Genres  and  endeavours  in  two  re- 
fpects.  ttrjt,  as  to  time ;  they  are  never  againit 
prefent  volitions,  but  only  againit  volitions  of 
iuch  a  kind,  when  viewed  at  a  diftance.  Secondly^ 
as  to  their  nature  ^  thefe  oppofite  defires  are  no* 
directly  and  properly  againft  the  habit  and  incli 
nation  itfdf,  or  the  volitions  in  which  it  is  exer- 
cifed  •,  for  thefe,  in  themfelves  confidered,  are  a- 
&re.able  :  but  againft  fomething  elfe,  'that  attends 
them,  or  is  their  confluence  ;  the  oppofition  of 
the  mind  is  levelled  entirely  againft  this;  the  in 
clination  or  volitions  themfelves  are  not  at  all  op- 
pokd 'directly,  and  for  their  own  Hike,  but  only 

indirircti'/ 


Sedt.  VI.         'with  moral  Inability.  233 

indireclly  and  remotely  on  the  account  of  fome- 
•thing  alien  and  foreign. 

III.  Though  the  oppofition  of  the  will  itfelf, 
or  the  very  want  of  will  to  a  thing  commanded, 
implies  a  moral  Inability  to  that  thing;  yet,  if  it 
be,  as  has  been  already  fhewn,  that  the  being  of  a 
good  flate  or  acl:  of  will,  is  a  thing  moft  pro 
perly  required  by  Command  -,  then,  in  fome  cafes, 
iuch  a  ftatc  or  act  of  will  may  properly  be  re 
quired,  which  at  prefent  is  not,  and  which  may 
aifo  be  wanting  after  it  is  commanded.  And 
therefore  thofe  things  may  properly  be  com* 
manded,  which  men  have  a  moral  Inability  for. 

Such  a  ftate,  or  act  of  the  will,  may  be  re 
quired  by  Command,  as  does  not  already  exitt. 
For  if  that  volition  only  may  be  commanded  to 
be  which  already  is,  there  could  be  no  ufe  of  Pre 
cept;  Commands  in  all  cafes  would  be  perfectly 
vain  and  impertinent.  And  not  only  may  fuch  a 
will  be  required,  as  is  wanting  before  the  Com 
mand  is  given,  but  alfo  fuch  as  may  pofH'oly  be 
wanting  afterwards ;  fuch  as  the  exhibition  of  the 
Command  may  not  be  effectual  to  produce  or 
excite.  Otherwife,  no  iuch  thing  as  difobedience 
to  a  proper  and  rightful  Command  is  pofilble  in 
any  cafe  ;  and  there  is  no  cafe  fuppofablc  or  pof- 
iible,  wherein  there  can  be  an  inexcufable  or  faul 
ty  difobedience.  Which  Arminlans  cannot  affirm, 
confidently  with  their  principles :  for  this  makes 
Obedience  to  juft  and  proper  Commands  always 
mccffary,  and  difobedience  impofTible.  And  fo 
the  Ar  mini  an  would  overthrow  himfelf,  yielding 
the  very  point  we  are  upon,  which  he  fo  ftrenu- 
oufly  denies,  viz.  that  Law  and  Command  are  con 
fident  with  neceflity. 

If 


234  Commands  ^  Invitations      Part  III. 

If  meerly  that  Inability  will  excufe  difobe- 
dicnce,  which  is  implied  in  the  oppofition  or  de- 
ftct  of  inclination,  remaining  after  the  Command 
is  exhibited,  then  wickednefs  always  carries  that 
in  it  which  excufes  it.  It  is  evermore  fo,  that  by 
how  much  the  more  wickednefs  there  is  in  a  man's 
heart,  by  fo  much  is  his  inclination  to  evil  the 
fbonger,  and  by  fo  much  the  more,  therefore,  has 
he  of  moral  Inability  to  the  good  required.  His 
moral  Inability,  confiding  in  the  flrength  of  his 
evil  inclination,  is  the  very  thing  wherein  his 
wickednefs  confifls  ;  and  yet,  according  to  Armi- 
nlan  principles,  it  muft  be  a  thing  inconfiftent 
with  wickednefs ;  and  by  how  much  the  more  he 
has  of  it,  by  fo  much  is  he  the  further  from  wick 
ednefs. 

Therefore,  on  the  whole,  it  is  manifeft,  that 
moral  Inability  alone  (which  confifts  in  difmcli- 
nation)  never  renders  any  thing  improperly  the 
fubject  matter  of  Precept  or  Command,  and  never 
can  excufe  any  perfon  in  difobedience,  or  want 
of  conformity  to  a  command. 

Natural  Inability,  arifing  from  the  want  of  na 
tural  capacity,  or  external  hindrance  (which  alone 
is  properly  called  Inability)  without  doubt  wholly 
excuies,  or  makes  a  thing  improperly  the  matter 
of  Command.  If  men  are  excufed  from  doing 
or  acting  any  good  thing,  fnppofed  to  be  com 
manded,  it  muft  be  through  fome  defect  or  ob- 
ilacle  that  is  not  in  the  will  itfclf,  but  intrinsic  to 
it-,  either  in  the  capacity  of  underftanding,  cr 
body,  or  outward  circumftances. 

Here  two  or  three  thin-gs  may  be  obferved, 

i.  As 


Sect.  IV.     confiftent  with  moral  Inability.          235 
i.  As  to  fpiritual  duties  or  acts,  or  any  good 
thing  in  the  ftate  or  imminent  acts  of  the  will 
hfelf,  or  of  the  affections  (which  are  only  certain 
modes  of  the  exercife  of  the  will)  if  perfons  are 
juftly  excufed,  it  muft  be  through  want  of  capa 
city  in  the  natural  faculty  of  underftanding.  Thus 
the  fame  fpiritual  duties,  or  holy  affections  and 
exercifes  of  heart,  cannot  be  required  of  men,  as 
may  be  of  angels  ;  the  capacity  of  underftand 
ing  being  fo  much  inferior.     So  men  cannot  be 
required  to  love  thofe  amiable  perfons,  whom  they 
have  had  no  opportunity  to  fee,  or  hear  of,  or 
come  to  the  knowledge  of,   in  any  way  agreable 
to  the  natural  ftate  and  capacity  of  the  human 
underftanding.     But  the  infufHciency  of  motives 
will  not  excufe;    unlefs  their  being  infufficient 
arifes  not  from  the  moral  ftate  of  the  will  or  in 
clination   itfelf,  but  from  the  ftate  of  the  natural 
underftanding.  The  great  kindnefs  and  generality 
of  another  may  be  a  motive  infufficient  to  excite 
gratitude  in  the  perfon,  that  receives  the  kindnefs, 
through  his  vile  and  ungrateful  temper :    in  this 
cafe,  the  infufficiency  of  the  motive  arifes  from 
the  ftate  of  the  will  or  inclination  of  heart,  and 
does  not  at  all  excufe.   But  if  this  generofity  is  not 
iiifficientto  excite  gratitude,  being  unknown,  there 
being  no  means  of  information   adequate  to  the 
ftate  and  meafure  of  the  perfon's  faculties,  this 
infufficiency  is  attended  with  a  natural  Inability, 
which  entirely  excufes. 

2.  As  to  fuch  motions  of  body,  or  exercifes 
and  alterations  of  mind,  which  does  not  confift  in 
the  imminent  acls  or  ftate  of  the  will  itfelf,  but 
are  fuppofed  to  be  required  as  effects  of  the 
will ;  I  fay,  in  fuch  fuppofed  effects  of  the  will,  in 
cafes  wherein  there  is  no  want  of  a  capacity  of 
underftanding ;  that  Inability,  and  that  only  ex 
cufes, 


Commands  and  Invitations  Part  III. 
cufes,  which  confilts  in  want  of  connection  be 
tween  them  and  the  will.  If  the  will  fully  com 
plies,  and  the  propofed  effect  does  pot  prove,  ac 
cording  to  the  laws  of  nature,  to  be  connected 
with  his  volition,  the  man  is  perfectly  excufed  ;  he 
has  a  natural  Inability  to  the  thing  required.  For 
the  will,  itfelf,  as  has  been  obferved,  is  all  that 
can  be  directly  and  immediately  required  by  Com 
mand  ;  and  other  things  only  indirectly,  as  con 
nected  with  the  will.  If  therefore,  there  be  a  full 
compliance  of  will,  the  perfon  has  done  his  duty  ; 
and  if  other  things  do  not  prove  to  be  con 
nected  with  his  volition,  that  is  not  owing  to  him. 

3.  Both  thefe  kinds  of  natural  Inability  that 
have  been  mentioned,  and  fo  all  Inability  that  ex* 
cufes,  may  be  refolved  into  one  thing;  namely, 
want  of  natural  capacity  or  flrength  -,  either 
capacity  of  underftanding,  or  external  ftrength. 
For  when  there  are  external  defects  and  obftacles, 
they  would  be  no  obftacles,  were  it  not  for  the 
imperfection  and  limitations  of  underftanding  and, 
ilrength. 

Coral  If  things  for  which  men  have  a  moral 
Inability,  may  properly  be  the  matter  of  Precept 
or  Command,  then  they  may  alfoof  invitation  and 
counfel.  Commands  and  invitations  come  very 
much  to  the  fame  thing  \  the  difference  is  only 
circumftantial :  Commands  are  as  much  a  mani- 
f citation  of  the  will  of  him  that  fpeaks,  as  invi 
tations,  and  as  much  tefti monies  of  expectation 
of  compliance.  The  difference  between  them  lies 
in  nothing  that  touches  the  affair  in  hand.  The 
main  difference  between  Command  and  invitation 
confids  in  the  enforcement  of  the 'will  of  him 
who  commands  or  invites.  In  the  latter  it  is  his 
kiiidiuj's9  the  goodnefs-  which  his  will  arifcs  from  : 

in 


Se6t  IV.  confident  with  moral  Inability*  237 
in  the  former  it  is  his  authority.  But  whatever  be 
the  ground  of  the  will  of  him  that  fpeaks,  or  the 
enforcement  of  what  he  fays,  yet  feeing  neither 
his  will  nor  expectation  is  any  more  te (lifted  in 
the  one  cafe  than  the  other ;  therefore  a  performs 
being  directed  by  invitation,  is  no  more  an  evi 
dence  of  infincerity  in  him  that  directs,  in  mani- 
fefting  either  a  will,  or  expectation  which  he 
has  not,  than  his  being  known  to  be  morally  un 
able  to  do  what  he  is  directed  to  by  command. — 
So  that  all  this  grand  objection  of  Ar  mint  am 
againft  the  Inability  of  fallen  men  to  exert  fakli 
in  Chrift,  or  to  perform  other  fpiritual  gofpel- 
duties,  from  the  fincerity  of  God's  counfds  and 
invitations,  muft  be  without  force. 


SECTION    V. 


that  Sincerity  of  Defires  and  Endeavours,  which 
is  fuppofed  to  excnfe  in  the  N on  performance 
of  Things  in  themfihes  gocdy  particularly  con- 
Jidered. 

IT  is  what  is  much  infilled  on  by  manv,  that 
fome  men,  though  they  are  not  able  to  per 
form  fpiritual  duties,  fuch  as  repentance  of  fin, 
love  to  God,  a  cordial  acceptance  of  Chrift  as 
exhibited  and  offered  in  the  gofpel,  &c.  yet  they 
may  fincerely  defire  and  endeavour  thde  things  ; 
and  therefore  muft  be  excufed ;  it  being  unreaibn- 
able  to  blame  them  for  the  omiffion  of  thofe  things, 
which  they  fincereiy  defire  and  endeavour  to  do, 
but  cannot  do. 

Concerning  this  matter,  the  following  things 
may  be  obferved. 

r.  What 


238  What  Willingnefs  and        Part  III. 

i.  What  is  here  fuppofed,  is  a  great  miftake, 

and  grofs  abfurdity  ;  even  that  men  may  fincerely 

chufe  and   clefire  thofe  fpiritual   duties  of  love, 

acceptance,  choice,  rejection,  &c.    confifting   in 

the  exercife  of  the  will  itfelf,  or  in  the  difpoiition 

and  inclination   of  the   heart;    and  yet  not   be 

able  to  perform  or  exert  them.     This   is   abfurd, 

becaufe  it  is  abfurd  to  fuppofe  that  a  man  fhouJd 

diredly,  properly  and  fincerely  incline  to  have  an 

inclination,  which   at  the  fame  time  is  contrary 

to  his  inclination:  for  that  is  to  fuppofe  him  not 

to  be  inclined  to  that,,  which  he  is  inclined  to.    If 

a  man,  in  the  date  and  acts  of  his  will  and  in 

clination,  does  properly  and  directly  fall  in  with 

thofe  duties,  he  therein  performs  them  :  for   the 

duties  themfelves  confift  in  that  very  thing  ;   they 

confilt  in  the  itate  and  acts  of  the  will  being  fo 

formed  and  directed.     If  the  foul  properly  Ind 

fmccrely  falls  in  with  a  certain  propcfed  act  of 

will  or  choice,  the  foul  therein  makes  that  choice 

its  own.     Even  as  when  a  moving  body  falls  in 

with  a  propofed  direction  of  its  motion,   thac  is 

the  fame  thing  as  to  move  in  that  direction. 

2.  That  which  is  called  a  defire  and  ivillingnefs 
for  thofe  inward  duties,  in  fuch  as  do  not  per 
form,  has  refpect  to  thefe  duties  only  indirectly 
and  remotely,  and  is  improperly  reprefented  as  a 
\villingnefs  for  them  ;  not  only  becaufe  (as  was 
obferved  before)  it  refpects  thofe  good  volitions 
only  in  a  diitant  view,  and  with  relpect  to  future 
time  ;  but  alfo  becaufe  evermore,  not  thefe  things 
themfelves,  but  fomething  die,  that  is  .alien  a$d 
foreign,  is  the  object  that  terminates  thefe  voli 
tions  and  defires. 


A  drunkard,  who  continues  in  his  drunken- 
j  being  under  the  power  of  a  love,  and  vio- 

lent 


Sect.  V.  Sincerity  is  no  excufe.  239 

lent  appetite  to  llrong  drink,  and  without  any 
love  to  virtue^  but  being  alib  extremely  cove 
tous  and  clofe,  and  very  much  exercifed  and  grie 
ved  at  the  diminution  of  his  eflate,  and  profpect 
of  poverty,  may  in  a  fort  defire  the  virtue  of 
temperance;  and  though  his  prefent  will  is  to 
gratify  his  extravagant  appetite,  yet  he  may  wifh, 
he  had  a  heart  to  forbear  future  acts  of  intempe 
rance,  and  forfake  his  excefles,  through  an  un- 
willingnefs  to  part  with  his  money :  but  (till  he 
goes  on  with  his  drunkennefs ;  his  wifhes  and  en 
deavours  are  infufficient  and  ineffectual :  iuch  a 
man  has  no  proper,  direct,  fmcere  willingnefs  to 
forfake  this  vice,  and  the  vicious  deeds  which  be 
long  to  it :  for  he  acts  voluntarily  in  continuing 
to  drink  to  excels :  his  defire  is  very  improperly 
called  a  willingnefs  to  be  temperate ;  it  is  no 
true  defire  of  that  virtue  j  for  it  is  not  that  vir 
tue,  that  terminates  his  wifhes  •,  nor  have  they 
any  direct  refpect  at  ail  to  it.  It  is  only  tbe  fac 
ing  his  money,  and  avoiding  poverty,  that  ter 
minates,  and  exhaufls  the  whole  ftrength  of  his 
defire.  The  virtue  of  temperance  is  regarded 
only  very  indirectly  and  improperly,  even  as  a 
neceffary  means  of  gratifying  the  vice  of  covet- 
oufnefs. 

So,  a  man  of  an  exceeding  corrupt  and  wicked 
heart,  who  has  no  love  to  God  and  Jefus  Chrift, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  being  very  profanely  and 
carnally  inclined,  has  the  greater!  cliftafte  of  the 
things  of  religion,  and  enmity  againft  them  ^ 
yet  being  of  a  family,  that  from  one  generation 
to  another,  have  moil  of  them  died,  in  youth,  of 
an  hereditary  confumption  ;  and  fo  having  little 
hope  of  living  long ;  and  having  been  iniiructed 
in  the  necemty  of  a  fupreme  love  to  Chrift,  and 
gratitude  for  his  death  and  fufFerings,  in  order 

to 


240  Whit  Willingrtefs  and        Part  III. 

to  his  falvation  from  eternal  mifery;  if  under 
thefe  circumftances  he  fhould,  through  fear  of 
eternal  torments,  wilh  he  had  fuch  a  diipoiition  : 
but  his  profane  and  carnal  heart  remaining,  he 
continues  {till  in  his  habitual  diilafte  of,  and  en 
mity  to  God  and  religion,  and  wholly  without  any 
exercife  of  that  love  and  gratitude,  (as  doubt- 
lefs  the  very  devils  themfelves,  notwithstanding 
all  the  deviiifhnefs  of  their  temper,  would  \vifh 
for  a  holy  heart,  if  by  that  means  they  could  get 
out  of  hell :)  in  this  cafe,  there  is  no  fincerc 
Willingnefs  to  love  Chrilt  and  chufe  him  as  his 
chief  good :  thefe  holy  difpofitions  and  exer- 
cifes  are  not  at  all  the  direct  object  of  the  will  : 
they  truly  fhare  no  part  of  the  inclination  or  de- 
fire  of  the  foul ;  but  all  is  terminated  on  delive 
rance  from  torment :  and  thefe  graces  and  pious 
volitions,  notwithstanding  this  forced  confent,. 
are  looked  upon  undeiirable ;  as  when  a  fick 
man  defires  a  dofe  he  greatly  abhors,  to  fave  his 
life. — From  thefe  things  it  appears. 

3.  That  this  indirect  Willingnefs  which  has 
been  fpoken  of,  is  not  that  exercife  of  the  will 
which  the  command  requires ;  'but  is  entirely  a 
different  one ;  being  a  volition  of  a  different  na 
ture,  and  terminated  altogether  on   different  ob 
jects  ;  wholly  falling  fhort  of  that  virtue  of  will, 
which  the  command  has  refpect  to. 

4.  This  other  volition,  which  has  only  fome 
indirect  concern  with   the  duty  required,   cannot 
excufe  for  the    want  of  that    good   will    itfelf, 
which  is  commanded ;  being  not  the  thing  which 
aniwers   and    fulfils    the    command,    and   being 
wholly  dcftitute  of  the  virtue  which  the  com 
mand  feeks. 

Further 


Sect.  V.  Sincerity  is  no  Excufe.  241 

Further  to  illuftrate  this  matter. — If  a  child 
has  a  moil  excellent  father,  that  has  ever  treated 
him  with  fatherly  kindnefs  and  tenderncfs,  and 
has  every  way,  in  the  higheft  degree,  merited  his 
love  and  dutiful  regard,  being  withal  very  weal 
thy  ;  but  the  fon  is  of  ib  vile  a  difpofition,  that 
he  inveterately  hates  his  father ;  and  yet,  ap 
prehending  that  his  hatred  of  him  is  like  to 
prove  his  ruin,  by  bringing  him  finally  to  po 
verty  and  abject  circumftances,  through  his  father's 
difmheriting  him,,  or  otherwife  ;  which  is  exceed 
ing  crofs  to  his  avarice  and  ambition ;  he,  there 
fore,  wifties  it  were  otherwife :  but  yet  remaining 
under  the  invincible  power  of  his  vile  and  malig 
nant  difpofition,  he  continues  ftill  in  his  fettled 
hatred  of  his  father.  Now,  if  fuch  a  fon's  in 
direct  willingnefs  to  have  love  and  honour  to 
wards  his  father,  at  all  acquits  or  excufes  before 
God,  for  his  failing  of  actually  exercifing  thefe 
difpofitions  towards  him,  which  God  requires,  it 
muft  be  on  one  of  thefe  accounts,  (i.)*  Either 
that  it  anfwers  and  fulfils  the  command.  But 
this  it  does  not,  by  the  fuppofition ;  becaufe  the 
thing  commanded  is  love  and  honour  to  his 
worthy  parent.  If  the  command  be  proper  and 
juft,  as  is  fuppofed,  then  it  obliges  to  the  thing 
commanded  ;  and  fo  nothing  elfe  but  that  can  an- 
fwer  the  obligation.  Or,  (2.)  It  muft  be  at  lea  ft, 
becaufe  there  is  that  virtue  or  good  nets  in  his 
indirect  willingnefs,  that  is  equivalent  to  the 
virtue  required  -y  arid  fo  balances  or  countervails 
it,  and  makes  up  for  the  want  of  it.  But  that 
alfo  is  contrary  to  the  fuppofition.  The  willing 
nefs  the  fon  has  mecrly  from  a  regard  to  money 
and  honour,  has  no  goodnefs  in  it,  to  counter-, 
vail  the  want  of  the  pious  filial  refpect  re 
quired. 


R 


Sincerity 


242-  Wloat  Sincerity  of  Endeavours.  Part  ILL 
Sincerity  and  reality,  in  that  indirect  willing- 
nefs,  which  has  been  fpoken  of,  does  not  make  it 
the  better.  That  which  is  real  and  hearty  is  often 
called  fincere,  whether  it  be  in  virtue  or  vice. 
Some  perfons  are  fincerely  lad\  others  are  fin 
cerely  gcGd\  and  others  may  be  fincere  and  hearty 
in  things,  which  are  in  their  own  nature  indifferent^ 
as  a  man  may  be  fincerely  defirous  of  eating  when 
he  is  hungry.  But  a  being  fincere,  hearty  and  in 
good  earneft,  is  no  virtue,  unlefs  it  be  in  a  thing 
that  is  virtuous.  A  man  may  be  fincere  and 
hearty  in  joining  a  crew  of  pirates,  or  a  gang  of 
robbers.  When  the  devils  cried  out,  and  be- 
iought  Chrift  not  to  torment  them,  it  was  no 
mere  pretence ;  they  were  very  hearty  in  their 
defires  not  to  be  tormented  :  but  this  did  not 
make  their  will  or  defires  virtuous.  And  if  men 
have  fincere  defires,  which  are  in  their  kind  and 
nature  no  better,  it  can  be  no  excufe  for  the  want 
of  any  required  virtue. 

And  as  a  man's  being  fincere  in  fuch  an  indirect 
defire  or  tvillingnefs  to  do  his  duty,  as  has  been 
mentioned,  cannot  excufe  for  the  want  of  per 
formance  ;  fo  it  is  with  Endeavours  arifing  from 
fuch  a  willingnefs.  The  Endeavours  can  have  no 
more  goodnefs  in  them,  than  the  will  which  they 
are  the  effect  and  exprefiion  of.  And,  therefore, 
however  fincere  and  real,  and  however  great  a 
performs  Endeavours  are;  yea,  though  they  ihould 
be  to  the  utmoft  of  his  ability-,  unlefs  the  will 
which  they  proceed  from  be  truly  good  and  vir 
tuous,  they  can  be  of  no  avail,  influence  qr 
weight  to  any  purpofe  whatfoever,  ih  a  moral 
ienfe  or  refpect.  That  which  is  not  truly  vir 
tuous  in  God's  fight,  is  looked  upon,  by  Him,  as 
good  for  nothing :  and  fo  can  be  of  no  value,, 
weight  or  influence  in  his  account,  to  recom-* 

mend, 


Se6L  V.  is  no  Excufe.  243 

mend,  fatisfy,  excufe  or  make  up  for  any  moral 
defed.  For  nothing  can  counter-balance  evil, 
but  good.  If  evil  be  in  one  fcale,  and  we  put. 
a  great  deal  into  the  other,  iincere  and  earn  eft 
D'efiresj  and  many  and  great  Endeavours  ;  yet,  if 
there  be  no  real  goodnefs  in  all,  there  is  no 
weight  in  it  ;  and  fo  it  does  nothing  towards  ba 
lancing  the  real  weight,  which  is  in  the  oppofitc 
fcale.  It  is  only  like  the  fubftrading  a  thoufand 
noughts  from  before  a  real  number,  which  leaves 
the  fum  juft  as  it  was. 

Indeed  fuch  Endeavours  may  have  a  negatively 
good  influence.  Thofe  things,  which  have  no 
pofitive  virtue,  have  no  pofitive  moral  influence ; 
yet  they  may  be  an  occaiion  of  perfons  avoiding 
fome  pofitive  evils.  As  if  a  man  were  in  the 
water  with  a  neighbour,  that  he  had  ill-will  to, 
who  could  riot  fwim,  holding  him  by  his  hand  ; 
which  neighbour  was  much  in  debt  to  him; 
and  mould  be  tempted  to  let  him  fink  and  drown ; 
but  mould  rufufe  to  comply  with  the  temptation; 
not  from  love  to  his  neighbour,  but  from  the 
love  of  money,  and  becaufe  by  his. drowning  he 
ihould  lofe  his  debt  \  that  which  he  does  in  prc- 
ferving  his  neighbour  from  drowning,  is  no 
thing  good  in  the  fight  of  God  :  yet  hereby  he 
avoids  the  greater  guilt  that  would  have  been 
contracted,  if  he  had  defignedly  let  his  neigh 
bour  fink  and  perifh.  But  when  Armimans^  in  their 
difputes  with  Calvinifts,  infill  fo  much  on  fmcere 
Defires  and  Endeavours,  as  what  mull  excufe  men, 
mull  be  accepted  of  God,  &c.  it  is  manifeft  they 
have  refpecl  to  fome  pofitive  moral  weight  or 
influence  of  thofe  Defires  and  Endeavours.  Ac 
cepting,  j unifying  or  excnfing  on  the  account 
of  fmcere  honeft  Endeavours  (as  they  are  called; 
and  men's  doing  what  they  can,  &c.  has  relation 
R  2  to 


244  °f  P^omifes  Part  III 

to  fomc  moral  value,  fomething  that  is  accepted 
as  good,  and  as  fuch,  countervailing  fome  d£- 


But  there  is  a  great  and  unknown  deceit,  ari- 
fing  from  the  ambiguity  of  the  phrafe,  fincere 
Endeavours.  Indeed  there  is  a  vaft  indiftindtnefs 
and  unfixednefs  in  moft,  or  at  leaft  very  many  of 
the  terms  ufed  to  exprefs  things  pertaining  to 
moral  and  fpiritual  matters.  Whence  arife  innu 
merable  miftakes,  ftrong  prejudices,  inextricable 
confufion,  and  endlefs  controverfy. 

The  word  fincere  is  moft  commonly  ufed  to 
fignify  fomething  that  is  good  :  men  are  habitua 
ted  to  underfland  by  it  the  lame  as  boneft  and  up 
right  ;  which  terms  excite  an  idea  of  fomething 
good  in  the  ftridteft  and  high  eft  fenfe  ;  good  in 
the  fight  of  Him,  who  fees  not  only  the  outward 
appearance,  but  the  heart.  And,  therefore,  men 
think  that  if  a  perfon  btfincere,  he  will  certainly 
be  accepted.  If  it  be  faid  that  any  one  is  fincere 
in  his  Endeavours,  this  fuggefts  to  men's  minds 
as  much,  as  that  his  heart  and  will  is  good,  that 
there  is  no  defect  of  duty,  as  to  virtuous  incli 
nation  ;  he  hofteftly  and  uprightly  defires'and  endea 
vours  to  do  as  he  is  required  •,  and  this  leads  them 
to  fuppofe,  that  it  would  be  very  hard  and  unrea-* 
fonable  to  punifh  him,  only  becaufe  he  is  unfuc- 
cefsful  in  his  Endeavours,  the  thing  endeavoured 
being  beyond  his  power.  —  Whereas  it  ought  to 
be  obferved,  that  the  word  fincere  has  thefe  diffe 
rent  fignifications. 

i.  Sincerity,  as  the  word  is  fometimes  ufed? 
fignifies  no  more  than  reality  of  Will  and  Endea- 
your,  with  refpedt  to  any  thing  that  is  profefTed 
or  pretended  ;  without  any  confideration  of  the 

nature 


Sect.  V.          to  gracclefs  Endeavours.  24$ 

nature  of  the  principle  or  aim,  wjience  this  real 
Will  and  true  Endeavour  arifes.  If  a  man  has 
fome  real  defire  to  obtain  a  thing,  either  direct 
or  indirect,  or  does  really  endeavour  after  a  thing, 
he  is  faid  fincerely  to  define  or  endeavour  it; 
without  any  confideration  of  the  goodnefs  or  vir- 
tuoufnefs  of  the  principle  he  acts  from,  or  any 
excellency  or  worthinefs  of  the  end  he  acts  for. 
Thus  a  man,  who  is  kind  to  his  neighbour's  wife, 
who  is  fick  and  languilhing,  and  very  helpful  in 
her  cafe,  makes  a  fhew  ot  defiring  and  endea 
vouring  her  refloration  to  health  and  vigour; 
and  not  only  makes  fuch  a  fhewj  but  there  is  a 
reality  in  his  pretence,  he  does  heartily  and  ear- 
neftly  defire  to  have  her  health  reftored,  and  ufes 
his  true  and  utmoft  Endeavours  for  it ;  he  is  faid 
fincerely  to  defire  and  endeavour  it,  becaufe  he 
does  fo  truly  or  really  ;  though  perhaps  the  prin 
ciple  he  ads  from,  is  no  other  than  a  vile  and 
fcandalous  paffion  ;  having  lived  in  adultery  with 
her,  he  earneflly  defires  to  have  her  health  and  vi 
gour  reftored,  that  he  may  return  to  his  criminal 
pleafures  with  her.  Or, 

2.  Ryjincerity  is  meant,  not  meerly  a  reality  of 
Will  and  Endeavour  of  fome  fort  or  other,  and 
from  fome  confideration  or  other,  but  a  virtuous 
Jtncerity.  That  is,  that  in  the  performance  of 
thofe  particular  acts,  that  are  the  matter  of  vir 
tue  or  duty,  there  be  not  only  the  matter,  but  the 
form  and  eflence  of  virtue,  confiding  in  the 
aim  that  governs  the  act,  and  the  principle  ex- 
ercifed  in  it.  There  is  not  only  the  reality  of 
the  act,  that  is  as  it  were  the  body  of  the  duty  ; 
but  alib  the  foul,  which  ihould  properly  belong  to 
fuch  a  body.  In  this  fenfe,  a  man  is  faid  to  be 
fincere,  when  he  acts  with  a  pure  intention;  not 
ffom  fmifter  views,  or  bye-ends :  he  not  only 
R  3  in 


246  Of  Promifes  Bart  III. 

in  reality  defires  end  feeks  the  thing  to  be  done, 
or  qualification  to  be  obtained,  for  fome  end  or 
other ;  but  he  wills  the  thing  directly  and  prd- 
perly,  as  neither  forced  nor  bribed  -9  the  virtue  of 
the  thing  is  properly  the  object  of  the  will. 

In  the  former  fenfe,  a  man  is  faid  to  be  fincere, 
in  oppofition  to  a  meer  pretence,  and  Jhew  of  the 
f  articular  thing  to  be  done  or  exhibit  ed?  without  any 
real  Defire  or  Endeavour  at  all.  In  the  latter 
fenfe,  a  man  is  faid  to  be  fincere,  in  oppofition 
to  that  floew  of  virtue  there  is  in  meerly  doing  the 
natter  of  duty,  without  the  reality  of  the  vir 
tue  itfelf  in  the  foul,  and  the  eflence  of  it,  which 
there  is  a  fhew  of.  A  man  may  be  fincere  in  the 
former  fenfe,  and  yet  in  the  latter  be  in  the  fight 
of  God,  who  fearches  the  heart,  a  vile  hypo 
crite. 

In  the  latter  kind  of  fincerity,  only,  is  there 
any  thing  truly  valuable  or  acceptable  in  the 
fight  of  God.  '  And  this  is  the  thing,  which  in 
Scripture  is  called  Jlncerity^  uprightne/s,  integrity, 
truth  in  the  inward  parts,  and  a  being  of  a  perfeff 
'heart.  And  if  there  be  fuch  a  fmcerity,  and  fuch 
a  degree  of  it  as  there  ought  to  be,  and  there  be 
any  thing  further  that  the  man  is  not  able  to 
perform,  'or  which  does  not  prove  to  be  connected 
with  his  fincere  Defires  and  Endeavours,  the  man 
is  wholly  exculed  and  acquitted  in  the  fight  of 
God  •,  his  will  fhall  furely  be  accepted  for  his 
deed  :  and  fuch  a  fincere  Will  and  Endeavour 
is  all  that  in'  ftrictnefs  is  required  of  hi'm,  by  any 
command  of  God.  But  as  to  the  other  kind  of 
fincerity  of  Defires  and  Endeavours,  it  having  no 
•virtue  in  it,  (as  was  obferved  before)  can  be  of 
no  avail  before  God,  in  any  cafe,  to  recommend, 

fatisfy, 


Se&  V.          to  gracelefs  Endeavours.  247 

fatisfy,   or  excufe,    and    has   no   politive    moral 
weight  or  influence  whatfoever. 

CoroL  i.  Hence  it  may  be  inferred,  that  no 
thing  in  the  reafon  and  nature  of  things  ap 
pears,  from  the  confideration  of  any  moral  weight 
of  that  former  kind  of  fincerity,  which  has  been 
fpoken  of,  at  all  obliging  us  to  believe,  or  leading 
us  to  fuppofe,  that  God  has  made  any  pofkive 
Fromifes  of  falvation,  or  grace,  or  any  faving 
afliftance,  or  any  fpiritual  benefit  whatioever,  to 
any  Defires,  Prayers,  Endeavours,  Striving,  or 
Obedience  of  thofe,  who  hitherto  have  no  true  vir 
tue  or  holinefs  in  their  hearts ;  though  we  fhould 
fuppofe  all  the  Sincerity,  and  the  utmoft  degree  of 
Endeavour,  that  is  poflible  to  be  in  a  perfon  with 
out  holinefs. 

Some  object  againft  God's  requiring,  as  the  con 
dition  of  falvation,  thofe  holy  exerciies,  which  are 
the  refult  of  a  fupernatural  renovation  ;  fuch  as  a 
fupreme  refpect  to  Chrift,  love  to  God,  loving 
holinefs  for  its  own  fake,  &c.  that  thefe  inward 
difpofitions  and  exercifes  are  above  men's  power, 
as  they  are  by  nature ;  and  therefore  that  we  may 
conclude,  that  when  men  are  brought  to  be  fin- 
cere  in  their  Endeavours,  and  do  as  well  as  they 
<can,  they  are  accepted  ;  and  that  this  mufl  be  all 
that  God  requires,  in  order  to  men's  being  received 
as  the  objects  of  his  favour,  and  mult  be  what 
God  has  appointed  as  the  condition  of  falvation. 
concerning  which,  I  would  obferve,  that  in  fuch 
a  manner  of  fpeaking  of  men's  being  accepted^ 
becaufe  they  are  fincere^  and  do  as  well  as  they  can, 
there  is  evidently  a  fuppofition  of  fome  virtue, 
fome  degree  of  that  which  is  truly  good  -,  though 
it  does  not  go  fo  far  as  were  to  be  wimed.  For  if 

R  4  men 


248  Of  Promifes,  &e.  Part  III. 

men  do  wbat  they  can,  unlefs  their  fo  doing  be 
from  fome  good  principle,  difpofition,  or  exer- 
cife  of  heart,  fome  virtuous  inclination  or  act 
of  the  will  •,  their  fo  doing  what  they  can,  is  in 
fome  refpects  not  a  whit  better  than  if  they  did 
nothing  at  all.  In  fuch  a  cafe,  there  is  no  more 
pofitive  moral  goodnefs  in  a  man's  doing  what 
he  can,  than  in  a  wind-mill's  doing  what  it  can ; 
becaufe  the  action  does  no  more  proceed  from 
virtue ;  and  there  is  nothing  in  fuch  lincerity 
of  Endeavour,  or  doing  what  we  can,  that  mould 
render  k  any  more  a  proper  or  fit  recommenda 
tion  to  pofitive  favour  and  acceptance,  or  the 
condition  of  any  reward  or  aftual  benefit,  than 
doing  nothing  •,  for  both  the  one  and  the  other 
are  alike  nothing,  as  to  any  true  moral  weight 
or  value. 

Corol.  2.  Hence  alfo  it  follows,  there  is  no 
thing  that  appears  in  the  reafon  and  nature  of 
things,  which  can  juftly  lead  us  to  determine, 
that  God  will  certainly  give  the  neceffary  means 
of  falvatipn,  or  fome  way  or  other  beftow  true 
holinefs  and  eternal  life  on  thofe  Heathen,  who 
are  fincere,  (in  the  fenfe  above  explained)  in  their 
Endeavours  to  find  out  the  will  of  the  Deity, 
and  to  pleafe  him,  according  to  their  light,  that 
they  may  efcape  his  future  difpleafure  and  wrath, 
and'  obtain  happinefs  in  the  future  ftate,  through 
his  favour. 


SECTION 


249 


SECTION      VL 

Liberty  ef  Indifference,  not  only  not  neceffary  to 
Virtue,  but  utterly  Inconfiflent  'with  it ;  and  all, 
either  virtuous  or  'vicious  Habits  or  Inclinations, 
inconfiftcnt  with  Arminian  Notions  of  Liberty  and 
moral  Agency. 

TO  iuppofe  fuch  a  freedom  of  will,  as  Armi- 
mam  talk  of,  to  be  requifite  to  Virtue  and 
Vice.)  is  many  ways  contrary  to  common  fenfe. 

If  Indifference  belongs  to  Liberty  of  Will,  as 
^rminians  fuppofe,  and  it  be  efTential  to  a  vir 
tuous  action,  that  it  be  performed  in  a  ftate  of  Li 
berty,  as  they  alfo  fuppofe  ;  it  will  follow,  that 
it  is  effential  to  a  virtuous  action,  that  it  be  per 
formed  in  a  ftate  of  Indifference  :  and  if  it  be 
performed  in  a  Jl 'ate  of  Indifference,  then  doubt- 
leis  it  mufl  be  performed  in  the  time  of  .Indif 
ference.  And  fo  it  will  follow,  that  in  order  to 
the  virtuoufnefs  of  an  act,  the  heart  mufl  be  in 
different  in  the  time  of  the  performance  of  that 
act,  and  the  more  indifferent  and  cold  the  heart 
is  with  relation  to  the  act,  which  is  performed, 
fo  much  the  better  •,  becaufe  the  act  is  performed 
with  fo  much  the  greater  Liberty.  But  is  this 
agreable  to  the  light  of  nature  ?  Is  it  agreable  to 
the  notions,  which  mankind,  in  all  ages,  have 
of  Virtue,  that  it  Iks  in  that,  which  is  contrary 
to  Indifference,  even  in  the  'tendency  and  Inclina 
tion  of  the  heart  to  virtuous  action ;'  and  that  the 
itronger  the  Inclination,  and  fo  the  further  from 
Indifference,  the  more  virtuous  the  heart,  and  fo 
I  much 


2$o  Indifference  mconjiflent          Part  HI. 

much  the  more  praife-worthy  the  a&  which  pro 
ceeds  from  it  ? 

If  we  fhbuld  fuppofe  (contrary  to  what  has  been 
before  demonstrated)  that  there  may  be  an  act  of 
will  in  a  ftate  of  Indifference;  for'inftance,  this 
act,  iz/z.    The   will's   determining   to  put    itfelf 
put  of  a  ftate  of  Indifference,  and  give   itfelf  a 
preponderation  one  way,  then  it  would  follow, 
on  Armimah  principles,  that  this  act  or  determi 
nation  of  the  will  is   that  alone  wherein  Virtue 
confifts,  becaufe  this  only  is  performed,  while.the 
mind  remains  in  a  ftate  of  Indifference,  and  fb 
in  a  ftate  of  Liberty:  for  when  once   the  mind 
is  put  out  of  its  equilibrium,  it  is  no  longer  in 
fuch  a  ftate  ;  and  therefore  all  the  acts,  which 
follow  afterwards,  proceeding  from  bias,  can  have 
the  nature  neither  of  Virtue  nor  Vice.     Or  if  the 
thing,  which  the  will  can  do,  while  yet  in  a  ftate 
of  Indifference,  and  To  of  Liberty,  be  only  to  fuf- 
pend  acting,  and  determine  to  take  the  matter 
into  confideration,  then  this  determination  is  that 
alone  wherein  Virtue  confifts,  and  not  proceeding 
to  action   after  the  fcale  is  turned  by  confidera^ 
tion.    So  that  it  will  follow,  from  thefe  principles, 
all  that   is  done  after  the  mind,  by  any  means, 
is  once  out  of  its  equilibrium  and  already  polTcf- 
fed  by  an  Inclination,  and  arifing  from  that  In 
clination,    has  nothing  of  the  'nature  of  Virtue 
or  Vice,    and    is    worthy  of  neither  blame   nor 
praife.     But   how  plainly  contrary  is  this  to  the 
univerfal   fenfe  of  mankind,  and  to  the  notion 
they  have  of  fincerely  virtuous  actions  ?  Which 
is,  that'  they  are  actions,  which  proceed  from  a 
heart  welt  djjpdfed  and  inclined'-,  and  the  flrcnger^ 
and  the  more  'fixed  and  determined  the  good  dilpo- 
fition  of  the  heart,  the  greater   the  fmcerity  of 
'Virtue,  and  fo'the  more  of  the  truth  and  reality 

of 


Sect.  VI.  'with  Virtue.  251 

of  it.  But  if  there  be  any  acts,  which  are  done 
in  a  ftate  of  equilibrium,  or  fpring  immediately 
from  perfect  Indifference  and  coldnefs  of  heart, 
they  cannot  arife  from  any  good  principle  or  dif- 
pofition  in  the  heart ;  and,  confequently,  accord 
ing  to  common  fenfe,  have  no  fincere  goodnefs 
in  them,  having  no  Virtue  of  heart  in  them.  To 
have  a  virtuous  heart,  is  to  have  a  heart  that 
favours  Virtue,  and  is  friendly  to  it,  and  not  one 
perfectly  cold  and  indifferent  about  it. 

And  befkles,  the  actions  that  are  done  in  a  (late 
of  Indifference,  or  that  arife  immediately  out  of 
fuch  a  ftate,  cannot  be  virtuous,  becaufe,  by  the 
fuppoficion,  they  are  not  determined  by  any  pre 
ceding  choice.  For  if  there  be  preceding  choice, 
then  choice  intervenes  between  the  act  and  the 
ftate  of  Indifference  ;  which  is  contrary  to  the 
fuppolition  of  the  act's  arifing  immediately  out 
of  Indifference.  But  thofe  acts,  which  are  not 
determined  by  preceding  choice,  cannot  be  vir 
tuous  or  vicious  by  Armlnian  principles,  becaufe 
they  are  not  determined  by  the  will.-  So  that  nei 
ther  one  way,  nor  the  other,  can  any  actions  be 
virtuous  or  vicious,  according  to  Armlnian  princi 
ples.  If  the  action  be  determinedly  a  preceding  act 
of  choice,  it  cannot  be  virtuous ;  becaufe  the  action 
is  not  done  in  a  ftate  of  Indifference,  nor  does 
immediately  arife  from  fuch  a  ftate  ;  and  fo  is 
not  done  in  a  ftate  of  Liberty.  If  the  action  be 
not  determined  by  a  preceding  act  of  choice,  then 
it  cannot  be  virtuous ;  becaufe  then  the  will  is 
not  felf-determined  in  it.  So  that  it  is  made  cer 
tain,  that  neither  Virtue  nor  Vice  can  ever  find 
any  place  in  the  univerfe. 

Morever,  that  it   is   necefiary  to  a   virtuous 
action  that  it  be  performed  in  a  ftate  of  Indif 
ference, 


252  Indifference  ineonjijtent          Part  III, 

ference,  under  a  notion  of  that  being  a  ftate  of 
Liberty,  is  contrary  to  common  fenfe ;  as  it  is 
a  dictate  of  common  fenfe,  that  Indifference  it- 
felf,  in  many  cafes,  is  vicious,  and  fo  to  a  high 
degree.  As  if  when  I  fee  my  neighbour  or  near 
friend,  and  one  who  has  in  the  higheft  degree 
merited  of  me,  in  extreme  diftrefs,  and  ready  to 
perifh,  1  find  an  Indifference  in  my  heart  with 
refpe£t  to  any  thing  propofed  to  be  done,  which 
1  can  eafily  do,  for  his  relief.  So  if  it  fhould  be 
propofed  to  me  to  blafpheme  God,  or  kill  my 
father,  or  do  numberlefs  other  things,  which 
might  be  mentioned  ;  the  being  indifferent,  for 
a  moment,  would  be  highly  vicious  and  vile. 

And  it  may  be  further  obferved,  that  to  fup- 
ppfe  this  Liberty  of  Indifference  is  effential  to 
Virtue  and  Vice,  deftroys  the  great  difference  of 
degrees  of  the  guilt  of  different  crimes,  and 
takes  away  the  heinoufnefs  of  the  moil  flagitious 
horrid  iniquities  ;  fnch  as  adultery,  beftiality, 
murder,  perjury,  blafphemy,  &c.  For,  according 
to  theie  principles,  there  is  no  harm  at  all  in 
having  the  mind  in  a  ftate  of  perfect  Indiffer 
ence  with  re! peel  to  thefe  crimes  ;  nay,  k  is  ab- 
folutely  necdlary  in  order  to  any  Virtue  in  avoid 
ing  them,  or  Vice  in  doing  them.  But  for  the 
mind  to  he  in  a  Hate  of  Indifference  with  refpect 
to  them,  is  to  be  next  door  to  doing  them :  it  is 
then  infinitely  near  to  chufing,  and  fo  committing 
the  fad: :  for  equilibrium  is  the  next  ftep  to  a 
degree  of  preponderation  ;  and  one,  even  the 
kaft  degree  o.t  preponderation  (all  things  ponfi- 
dered)  is  choice.  Ar.d  not  only  fo,  but  for  the 
\\  ill  to  be  in  a  ftate  of  perfe6l  equilibrium  with 
refpeCt  po  fuch  crimes,  is  for  the  mind  to  be  in 
inch  a  fete,  as  to  be  full  as  likely  to  chufe  them 
as  to  refufe  them,  to  do  them  as  to  omit  them.  And 

if 


Sect.  VI.  «?//£  Virtue.  25 3 

if  our  minds  muft  be  in  fuch  a  ftate,  wherein  it  is 
as  neat  to  chuiing  as  refuting,  and  wherein  it 
mud  of  neceffity,  according  to  the  nature  of 
things,  be  as  likely  to  commit  them,  as  to  re 
frain  from  them  -,  where  is  the  exceeding  heinoui- 
nefs  of  chufing  and  committing  them  ?  If  there 
be  no  harm  in  often  being  in  fuch  a  ftate,  where 
in  the  probability  of  doing  and  forbearing  are  ex 
actly  equal,  there  being  an  equilibrium,  and  no 
more  tendency  to  one  than  the  other  •,  then,  ac 
cording  to  the  nature  and  laws  of  fuch  a  con- 
tingence,  it  may  be  expected,  as  an  inevitable  con- 
fequence  of  fuch  a  difpofition  of  things,  that  we 
Ihould  chufe  them  as  often  as  reject  them  :  that 
it  fliould  generally  fo  fall  out  is  neceflary,  as  e- 
quality  in  the  effect  is  the  natural  confequence 
of  the  equal  tendency  of  the  caufe,  or  of  the 
antecedent  ilate  of  things  from  which  the  effect 
ariies.  Why  then  ihould  we  be  fo  exceedingly 
to  blame,  if  it  does  fo  fall  out  ? 

It  is  many  ways  apparent,  that  the  Armiman 
fcheme  of  Liberty  is  utterly  inconfiftent  with  the 
being  of  any  fuch  things  as  either  virtuous  or 
vicious  Habits  or  Difpofitions.  If  Liberty  of 
Indifference  be  efiential  to  moral  agency,  then 
there  can  be  no  Virtue  in  any  habitual  Inclina 
tions  of  the  heart  \  which  are  contrary  to  Indiffe 
rence,  and  imply  in  their  nature  the  very  de- 
Itruction  and  exclufion  of  it.  They  fuppofe  no 
thing  can  be  virtuous,  in  which  no  Liberty  is  ex- 
ercifed  ;  but  how  abfurd  is  it  to  talk  of  exercifing 
indifference  under  bias  and  prepomderation  ! 

And  if  f elf -deter  mining  power  in  the  will  be  ne-f 
ceflary  to  moral  agency,  praife,  blame,  &c. 
then  nothing  done  by  the  will  can  be  any  fur 
ther  praife  or  blame- worthy,  than  fo  far  as  the 

will 


2 54  Of  virtuous  Part  IIL 

will  is  moved,  fwayed  and  determined  by  itfelft 
and  the  fcales  turned  by  the  fovereign  power  the 
will  has  over  itfelf.  And  therefore  the  will  muft 
not  be  put  out  of  its  balance  already,  the  pre- 
ponderation  muft  not  be  determined  and  effected 
before-hand  ;  and  fo  the  felf- determining  adt  an 
ticipated.  Thus  it  appears  another  way.,  that 
habitual  bias  is  inconfiftent  with  that  Liberty,; 
which  Arminians  fuppofe  to  be  necelfary  to  Virtue 
or  Vice ;  and  fo  it  follows,  that  habitual  bias  it 
felf  cannot  be  either  virtuous  or  vicious. 

The  fame  thing  follows  from  their  doctrine 
concerning  the  Inconfiitence  of  Neceffity  with  Li 
berty,  _  Praife,  Difpraife,  &c.     None  will  deny, 
that  Bias  and  Inclination  may  be  fo  ftrone;  as  to 
be  invincible,    and  leave   no  poffibility  "of  the 
will's  determining  contrary  to  it ;  and  fo  be  at 
tended  with  Neceffity.     This  Dr.  Wbiiby  allows 
concerning  the  will  of  God,  Angels;  and  glori 
fied  Saints,  with  refpecl  to  good  ;  and  the  will 
of  Devils,  with  refpecl  to  evil.     Therefore,  if 
Neceffity  be  inconfiftent  with  Liberty;  then*  when 
fixed  Inclination  is  to  fuch  a  degree  of  ftrength, 
it   utterly   excludes   all  Virtue,  Vice,  Praif<T  or 
Blame.     And,  if  fo,  then  the  nearer  Habits  are 
to  this  ftrength,  the  more  do  they  impede  Li 
berty,    and  fo  diminiih  Praife   and   Blame.     If 
very   flrong  Habits  deftroy  Liberty,   the   lefTer 
ones  proportionably  hinder  it^  according  to  their 
degree  of  ftrength.     And  therefore  it  will  follow, 
that  then  is  the  ael:   moft  virtuous  or  vicious, 
when   performed  without  any  Inclination  or  ha-^ 
bitual  Bias  at  all  5  becaufe  it  is  then  performecf 
with  moft  Liberty. 

Every  prepoffeffing  fixed  Bias  on  the  mind 
brings  a  degree  of  moral  Inability  for  the  con 
trary  ; 


i 


Sect.  VI.         and  vicious  Habits.  255 

trary  ;  becaufe  fo  far  as  the  mind  is  biafTed  and 
prepoffeffed,  fo  much  hinderance  is  there  of  the 
contrary.  And  therefore  if  moral  Inability  be  in- 
confiftent  with  moral  agency,  or  the  nature  of 
Virtue  and  Vice,  then,  fo  far  as  there  is  any  fuch 
thing  as  evil  difpofition  of  heart,  or  habitual  de 
pravity  of  Inclination  ;  whether  covetoufnefs, 
pride,  malice,  cruelty,  or  whatever  elie :  lo 
much  the  more  excufeable  perfons  are  ;  fo  much 
the  lefs  have  their  evil  acts  of  this  kind  the  na 
ture  of  Vice.  And,  on  the  contrary,  whatever 
excellent  Difpofitions  and  Inclinations  they  have, 
fo  much  are  they  the  lefs  virtuous, 

It  is  evident,  that  no  habitual  difpofition  of 
heart,  whether  it  be  to  a  greater  or  lefs  degree, 
can  be  in  any  degree  virtuous  or  vicious ;  or  the 
actions  which  proceed  from  them  at  all  praife  or 
blame-worthy.  Becaufe,  though  we  mould  fup- 
pofe  the  Habit  not  to  be  of  fuch  ftrength,  as 
wholly  to  take  away  all  moral  ability  and  felf- 
determining  power  \  or  hinder  but  that,  although 
the  act  be  partly  from  Bias,  yet  it  may  be  in 
part  from  felt- determination  •,  yet  in  this  cafe,  all 
that  is  from  antecedent  Bias  muft  be  fee  afide, 
as  of  no  confideration ;  and  in  eilimating  the  de 
gree  of  Virtue  or  Vice,  no  more  mufl  be  confi- 
dered  than  what  arifes  from  felf -determining 
power,  without  any  influence  of  that  Bias,  be 
caufe  Liberty  is  exercifed  in  no  more :  fo  that 
all  that  is  the  exercife  of  habitual  Inclination,  is 
thrown  away,  as  not  belonging  to  the  morality 
of  the  action.  By  which  it  appears,  that  no  ex 
ercife  of  theie  Habits,  let  them  be  ftronger  or 
weaker,  can  ever  have  any  thing  of  the  nature  of 
either  Virtue  or  Vice. 

Here 


ty virtuous  Part  fit 

Here  if  anyone  ihould  fay,  that  notwitb  Hand 
ing  all  thefe  things,  there  may  be  the  nature  of 
Virtue  and  Vice  in  the  Habits  of  the  mind  •,  be- 
caufe  thefe  Habits  may  be  the  effects  of  thofe  acts^ 
wherein  the  mind  exercifed  Liberty  ;  that  how 
ever  the  forementioned  reafons  will  prove  that  no 
Habits,  which  are  natural,  or  that  are  born  or 
created  with  us,  can  be  either  virtuous  or  vicious ; 
yet  they  will  not  prove  this  of  Habits,  which 
have  been  acquired  and  eflabliihed  by  repeated 
free  ads. 

To  fdch  an  objector  I  would  fay,  that  this  eva- 
fion  will  not  at  all  help  the  matter.  For  if 
freedom  of  will  be  cffential  to  the  very  nature  of 
Virtue  and  Vice,  then  there  is  no  Virtue  or  Vice 
'but  only  in  that  very  thing,  wherein  this  Liberty 
is  exerciled.  If  a  man  in  one  or  more  things, 
that  he  does,  exercifes  Liberty,  and  then  by  thole 
acts  is  brought  into  fuch  circumftances,  that  his 
Liberty  ceaies,  and  there  follows  a  long  feries  of 
acts  or  events  that  come  to  pals  neceiTarily  •,  thofe 
confequent  acts  are  not  virtuous  or  vicious,  re- 
wardable  or  punifhable ;  but  only  the  free  acts 
that  eilablifhed  this  neceffity  ;  for  in  them  alone 
was  the  man  free.  The  following  effects,  that 
are  necefTary,  have  no  more  of  the  nature  of  Vir 
tue  or  Vice,  than  health  or  ficknefs  of  body 
have  properly  the  nature  of  Virtue  or  Vice,  being 
the  effects  of  a  courfe  of  free  acts  of  tempe 
rance  or  intemperance ;  or  than  the  good  qua 
lities  of  a  clock  are  of  the  nature  of  Virtue, 
which  are  the  effects  of  free  acts  of-  the  arti 
ficer  ;  or  the  goodnefs  and  fweetnefs  of  the  fruits 
of  a  garden  are  moral  Virtues,  being  the  effects 
of  the  free  and  faithful  acts  of  the  gardener.  If 
Liberty  be  abfolutely  requifite  to  the  morality  of 
actions,  and  neceffity  wholly  inconfiflent  with  it, 

as 


Sect.  VI.  and  vicious  Habits*  257 

as  Armimans  greatly  infill: ;  then  no  neceffary  effefts 
whatfover,  let  the  caufe  be  never  fo  good  or  bad, 
can  be  virtuous  or  vicious  ;  but  the  virtue  or 
vice  muft  be  only  in  the  free  caufe.  Agreably 
to  this,  Dr.  Wkitby  fuppoies,  the  neceflity  that 
attends  the  good  and  evil  Habits  of  the  faints  in 
heaven,  and  damned  in  hell,  which  are  the  con- 
iequence  of  their  free  acts  in  their  ftate  of  pro 
bation,  are  not  rewardable  or  punilhable. 

On  the  whole,  it  appears,  that  if  the  notions 
of  Arminiam  concerning  liberty  and  moral  agen 
cy  be  true,  it  will  follow,  that  there  is  no  virtue 
in  any  fuch  Habits  or  qualities  as  humility, 
meeknefs,  patience,  mercy,  gratitude,  genero- 
fity,  heavenly-mindedhefs ;  nothing  at  all  praife- 
worthy  in  loving  Chrift  above  father  and  mother, 
wife  and  children,  or  our  own  lives  *,  or  in  de 
light  in  holinefs,  hungering  and  thirfting  after 
righteoufnefs,  love  to  enemies,  univerfal  bene 
volence  to  makmd :  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
there  is  nothing  at  all  vicious,  or  worthy  of  dif- 
praife,  in  the  moft  fordid,  beaftly,  malignant,  de- 
vilim  difpofitions  •,  in  being  ungrateful,  profane, 
habitually  hating  God,  arid  things  facred  and 
holy  ;  or  in  being  moft  treacherous,  envious  and 
cruel  towards  men.  For  all  thefe  things  are 
Difpofitions  and  Inclinations  of  the  heart.  And  in 
ihort,  there  is  no  fuch  thing  as  any  virtuous  or 
vicious  quality  of  mind,  no  fuch  thing  as  inhe 
rent  virtue  and  holinefs,  or  vice  and  fin:  and 
the  ftronger  thofe  Habits  or  Difpofitions  are, 
which  ufed  to  be  called  virtuous  and  vicious,  the 
further  they  are  from  being  fo  indeed  ;  the  more 
violent  men's  lufts  are,  the  more  fixed  their 
pride,  envy,  ingratitude  and  tnalicioufnefs,  Hill 
the  further  are  they  from  being  blame- worthy.  If 
there  be  a  man  that  by  his  own  repeated  ads,  or 

S  by 


258  Arminianifm  inconjijlent         Part  III. 

by  any  other  means,  is  come  to  be  of  the  moft 
hellim  Difpofition,  defperately  inclined  to  treat  his 
neighbours  with  injurioufhefs,  contempt  and  ma 
lignity  -,  the  further  they  mould  be  from  any 
Difpofition  to  be  angry  with  him,  or  in  the  leaft 
to  blame  him.  So,  on  the  other  hand,  if  there 
be  a  perform  who  is  of  a  mod  excellent  fpirit, 
^rongly  inclining  him  to  the  moft  amiable  ac 
tions,  admirably  meek,  benevolent,  &c.  fo  much 
is  he  further  from  any  thing  rewardable  or  com 
mendable.  On  which  principles,  the  man  Jefus 
Chrifl  was  very  far  from  being  praife-worthy  for 
thofe  a&s  of  holinefs  and  kindnefs,  which  He 
performed,  thefe  propenfities  being  ftrong  in 
his  heart.  And  above  all,  the  infinitely  holy 
and  gracious  God  is  infinitely  remote  from  any 
thing  commendable,  his  good  Inclinations  being 
infinitely  ftrong,  and  He,  therefore,  at  the  utmoft 
poffible  ctiftance  from  being  at  liberty.  And  in 
all  cafes,  the  ftronger  the  Inclinations  of  any  are 
to  Virtue,  and  the  more  they  love  it,  the  lefs  vir 
tuous  they  are  •,  and  the  more  they  love  wicked- 

neis,  the  lefs  vicious. Whether  thefe  things 

are  agreable  to  Scripture,  let  every  Chriflian,  and 
every  man  who  has  read  the  Bible,  judge  :  and 
whether  they  are  agreable  to  common-fenfe,  let 
every  one  judge,  that  has  human  understanding 
in  exercife. 

And,  if  we  purfue  thefe  principles,  we  fliall  find 
that  Virtue  and  Vice  are  wholly  excluded  out  of 
the  world ;  and  that  there  never  was,  nor  ever 
can  be  any  fuch  thing  as  one  or  the  other  ;  either 
in  God,  angels  or  men.  No  Fropenfity,  Dif 
pofition  or  Habit  can  be  virtuous  or  vicious,  as 
has  been  fhewn  ;  becaufe  they,  fo  far  as  they  take 
place,  deftroy  the  freedom  of  the  will,  the 
foundation  of  all  moral  agency,  and  exclude  all 

capacity 


Sect.  VI.  with  moral  Habits  and  Motives.  259 
capacity  of  either  Virtue  or  Vice. — And  if  Ha 
bits  and  Difpofitions  themfelves  be  not  virtuous 
nor  vicious,  neither  can  the  exercife  of  thefe 
Difpofitions  be  fo :  for  the  exercife  of  Bias  is  not 
the  exercife  of  free  f elf -deter  mining  will,  and  fo 
there  is  no  exercife  of  liberty  in  it.  Confe- 
quently,  no  man  is  virtuous  or  vicious,  either  in 
being  well  or  ill-difpofed,  nor  ,in  a&ing  from  a 
good  or  bad  Difpofition.  And  whether  this  Bias 
or  Difpofition,  be  habitual  or  not,  if  it  exifls  but 
a  moment  before  the  aft  of  will,  which  is  the 
effect  of  it,  it  alters  not  the  cafe,  as  to  the  ne- 
ceflity  of  the  effect.  Or  if  there  be  no  previous 
Difpofition  at  all,  either  habitual  or  occafional, 
that  determines  the  act,  then  it  is  not  choice 
that  determines  it :  it  is  therefore  a  contingence, 
that  happens  to  the  man,  arifing  from  nothing 
in  him  ;  and  is  neceflary,  as  to  any  Inclination  or 
Choice  of  his  j  and,  therefore,  cannot  make  him 
either  the  better  or  worfe,  any  more  than  a  tree 
is  better  than  other  trees,  becaufe  it  oftener  hap 
pens  to  be  lit  upon  by  a  fwan  or  nightingale: 
or  a  rock  more  vicious  than  other  rocks,  becaufe 
rattle-fnakes  have  happened  oftener  to  crawl  over 
it.  So,  that  there  is  no  Virtue  nor  Vice  in  good 
or  bad  Difpofitions,  either  fixed  or  tranfont ;  nor 
any  Virtue  or  Vice  in  acting  from  any  good  or 
bad  previous  Inclination  ;  nor  yet  any  virtue  or 
vice,  in  acting  wholly  without  any  previous  In 
clination.  Where  then  ihall  we  find  room  for 
Virtue  or  Vice  ? 


S  2,  SECTION 


200  Motive  and  Inducement  inconjtftent  Part  III. 
SECTION     VII. 


Arminian  Notions  of  moral  Agency  incorififtent  with 
all  Influence  of  Motive  and  Inducement,  in  either 
virtuous  or  vicious  Actions. 

AS  Arminian  notions  of  that  liberty,  which 
is  efiential  to  virtue  or  vice,  are  incon- 
iiftent  with  common  fenfe,  in  their  being  incon- 
fiftent  with  all  virtuous  or  vicious  habits  and  dif- 
pofitions ;  fo  they  are  no  lefs  fo  in  their  incon- 
fiftency  with  all  influence  of  Motives  in  moral 
adtions. 

It  is  equally  againfl  thofe  notions  of  liberty  of 
will,  whether  there  be,  previous  to  the  a6t  of 
choice,  a  preponderancy  of  the  inclination,  or  a 
preponderancy  of  thofe  circumftances,  which 
have  a  tendency  to  move  the  inclination.  And, 
indeed,  it  comes  to  juft  the  fame  thing:  to  fay, 
the  circumftances  of  the  mind  are  fuch  as  tend 
to  fway  and  turn  its  inclination  one  way,  is  the 
fame  thing  as  to  fay,  the  inclination  of  the 
mind,  as  under  fuch  circumftances,  tends  that 
way. 

Or  if  any  think  it  mod  proper  to  fay,  that 
Motives  do  alter  the  inclination,  and  give  a  new 
bias  to  the  mind,  it  will  not  alter  the  cafe,  as 
to  the  prefent  argument.  For  if  Motives  ope 
rate  by  giving  the  mind  an  inclination,  then  they 
operate  by  deftroying  the  mind's  indifference,  and 
laying  it  under  a  bias.  But  to  do  this,  is  to  de- 
ftroy  the  Arminian  freedom  :  it  is  not  to  leave  the 
will  to  its  own  felf-de termination,  but  to  bring 
it  into  fubjedtion  to  the  power  of  fomething  ex- 

trinfick, 


Sect.  VII.  with  Arminian  Virtue  and  Vice.  261 
trinfick,  which  operates  upon  it,  fways  and  deter 
mines  it,  previous  to  its  own  determination.  So 
that  what  is  done  from  Motive,  cannot  be  either 
virtuous  or  vicious. — And  befides,  if  the  acts  of 
the  will  are  excited  by  Motives,  thofe  Motives 
are  the  c aufes  of  thofe  afts  of  the  will ;  which 
makes  the  acts  of  the  will  necelfary ;  as  effects 
ncceffarily  follow  the  efficiency  of  the  caufe. 
And  if  the  influence  and  power  of  the  Motive 
caufes  the  volition,  then  the  influence  of  the  Mo 
tive  determines  volition,  and  volition  does  not  de 
termine  itfelf ;  and  fo  is  not  free,  in  the  fenfe 
of  Armenians  (as  has  been  largely  fhewn  already) 
and  confequently  can  be  neither  virtuous  nor  vi- 
pious. 

The  fuppofition,  which  has  already  been  taken 
notice  of  as  an  infufficient  evafion  in  other  cafes, 
xvould  be,  in  like  manner,  impertinently  alledged 
in  this  cafe;  namely,  the  fuppoiition  that  li 
berty  confifts  in  a  power  of  fufpending  action  for 
the  prefent,  in  order  to  deliberation.  If  it  fhould 
be  faid,  Though  it  be  true,  that  the  will  is  under 
a  necefiity  of  finally  following  the  ftrongeft  Mo 
tive  ;  yet  it  may,  for  the  prefent,  forbear  to  act: 
upon  the  Motive  prefented,  till  there  has  been 
opportunity  thoroughly  to  confider  it,  and  com 
pare  its  real  weight  with  the  merit  of  other  Mo 
tives.  I  anfwer  as  follows : 

Here'again,  it  muft  be  remembered,  that  if  de 
termining  thus  to  fufpend  and  confider,  be  that 
act  of  the  will,  wherein  alone  liberty  is  exer- 
cifed,  then  in  this  all  virtue  and  vice  muft  con- 
fiil ;  and  the  acts  that  follow  this  confideration, 
and  are  the  effects  of  it,  being  neceffary,  are  no 
more  virtuous  or  vicious  than  fome  good  or  bad 
events,  which  happen  when  they  are  faft  afleep§1 

S  3  and 


i6x  Motive  and  Inducement  iriconjiftent  Part  III. 
and  are  the  confequences  of  what  they  did  when 
they  were  awake.  Therefore,  1  would  here  ob- 
ferve  two  things  : 

i.  To  fuppofe,  that   all   virtue  and   vice,  in 
every   cafe,   confifts  in  determining,  whether  to 
take  time  for  confideration  or  not,  is   not  agre- 
able  to  common  fenfe.     For,  according  to  fuch  a 
iuppofition,   the    mod  horrid   crimes,    adultery, 
murder,  fodomy,   blafphemy,  &c.  do  not  at  all 
cofiit  in  the  horrid  nature  of  the  things  themfelve?, 
but  only   in   the  neglect  of  thorough  confidera 
tion  before  they  were  perpetrated,  which  brings 
their  vicioufnefs  to  a  fmall  matter,  and  makes  all 
crimes  equal.     If  it  be  faid,  that  neglect  of  con* 
fideration,  wrhen  fuch  heinous  evils  arc  propofed 
to  choice,  is  worfe  than  in  other  cafes  :   I  anfwer, 
this  is  inconfiflent,  as  it  fuppofes  the  very  thing 
to  be,  which,  at  the  fame  time,  is  fuppofed  not  to 
be ;    it  fuppofes  all    moral   evil,    all  vicioufnefs 
and  heinoufnefs,  does  not  confift  meerly  in  the 
want  of  confideration.     It  fuppofes  fome  crimes 
in  themfelves,    in   their  own  nature^  to  be    more 
heinous  than   others,  antecedent  to  confideration 
or  inconfideration,  which  lays  the  perfon  under  a 
previous  obligation  to  confider  in  fome  cafes  more 
than  others. 

2.  If  it  were  fo,  that  all  -virtue  and  vice,  in 
every  cafe,  confifted  only  in  the  aft  of  the  will, 
whereby  it  determines  whether  to  confider  or  no, 
it  would  not  alter  the  cafe  in  the  leaft,  as  to  the 
prefent  argument.  For  ftill  in  this  act  of  the 
will  on  this  determination,  it  is  induced  by  fome 
Motive,  and  neceffarily  follows  the  ftrongcft  Mo 
tive  ;  and  fo  is  neceffarily,  even  in  that  act  where 
in  alone  it  is  either  virtuous  or  vicious. 


One 


Sect,  VII.  with  Arminian  Virtue  and  Vice.  263 
One  thing  more  I  would  obferve,  concerning 
the  inconfiitence  of  Arminian  notions  of  moral 
agency  with  the  influence  of  Motives. — I  fup- 
pofe  none  will  deny,  that  it  is  potfible  for  Mo 
tives  .to  be  fet  before  the  mind  fo  powerful,  and 
exhibited  in  fo  ftrong  a  light,  and  under  ib  ad 
vantageous  circumftances,  as  to  be  invincible  ; 
and  fuch  as  the  mind  cannot  but  yield  to.  In 
this  cafe,  Armimans  will  doubtlefs  fay,  liberty 
is  deftroyed.  And  if 'fo,  then  if  Motives  are 
exhibited  with  half  fo  much  power,  they  hinder 
liberty  in  proportion  to  their  ftrength,  and  go 
half-way  towards  deflroying  it.  If  a  thoufand 
degrees  of  Motive  abolifh  all  liberty,  then  five 
hundred  take  it  half  away.  If  one  degree  of 
the  influence  of  Motive  does  not  at  all  infringe 
or  xiiminim  liberty  then  no  more  do  two  degrees; 
for  nothing  doubled,  is  ftill  nothing.  And  if 
two  degrees  do  not  diminifh  the  will's  liberty, 
no  more  do  four,  eight,  fixteen,  or  fix  thoufand. 
For. nothing  multiplied  never  fo  much  comes  to 
but  nothing.  If  there  be  nothing  in  the  nature 
of  motive  or  moral  fuafion,  that  is  at  all  oppo- 
fite  to  liberty,  then  the  greateft  degree  of  it  can 
not  hurt  liberty.  But  if  there  be  any  thing  in  the 
nature  of  the  thing,  that  is  againft  liberty, 
then  the  lead  degree  of  it  hurts  it  in  fome  de 
gree  ;  and  confequently  hurts  and  diminifhes  vir 
tue.  If  invincible  Motives,  to  that  action  which 
is  good,  take  away  all  the  freedom  of  the  act, 
and  fo  all  the  virtue  of  it  ;  then  the  more  force- 
able  the  Motives  are,  fo  much  the  worfe,  fo  much 
the  lefs  virtue ;  and  the  weaker  the  Motives  are, 
the  better  for  the  caufe  of  virtue  ;  and  none  is 
beft  of  all. 

Now  let  it  be  considered,  whether  thefe  things 

are  agreable  to  common  fenfe.     If  it  Ihould  be 

$  4  allowed. 


264  Armin.  Argument  from  the  Sincerity  Part  III, 

allowed,  that  there  are  fome  inftances  wherein  the, 
foul  chufes  without  any  Motive,  what  virtue  can 
there  be  in  fuch  a  choice  ?  I  am  fure,  there  is  no 
prudence  or  wifdom  in  it.  Such  a  choice  is 
made  for  no  good  end ;  for  it  is  for  no  end  at  all. 
If  i£  were  for  any  end,  the  view  of  the  end 
would  be  the  Motive  exciting  to  the  act;  and  if 
the  act  be  for  no  good  end,  and  fo  from  no  good 
aim,  then  there  is  no  good  intention  in  it :  and, 
therefore,  according  to  all  our  natural  notions  of 
virtue,  no  more  virtue  in  it  than  in  the  motion 
of  the  fmoke,  which  is  driven  to  and  fro  by  the 
wind,  without  any  aim  or  end  in  the  thing 
moved,  and  which  knows  not  whither,  nor  why 
and  wherefore,  it  is  moved. 

Corel,  i.  By  thefe  things  it  appears,  that  the 
argument  againft  the  Calvinifts,  taken  from  the 
ufe  of  counfels,  exhortations  invitations,  ex- 
poilulatipns,  &c.  fo  much  infifted  on  by  Arming 
ans,  is  truly  againft  themfelves.  For  thefe  things 
can  operate  no  other  way  to  any  good  effect, 
than  as  in  them  is  exhibited  Motive  and  Induce 
ment,  tending  to  excite  and  determine  the  acts  of 
the  will.  But  it  follows,  on  their  principles,  that 
the  acts  of  will  excited  by  luch  caufes,  cannot  be 
virtuous;  becauie,  fo  far  as  they  are  from  thefe, 
they  are  not  from  the  will's  felf-determining 
power.  Hence  it  will  follow,  that  it  is  not  worth 
the  while  to  offer  any  arguments  to  perfuade 
men  to  any  virtuous  volition  or  voluntary  ac 
tion  ;  it  is  in  vain  to  fet  before  them  the  wifdom 
and  amiablenefs  of  ways  of  virtue,  or  the  odi- 
oufneis  and  fully  of  ways  of  vice.  This  no 
tion  of  liberty  and  moral  agency  fruitrates  all 
endeavours  to  draw  men  to  virtue  by  inllrqcr 
tion  or  perfuafion,  precept  or  example:  for 
though  thefe  things  may  induce  men  to  what  is 

materially 


Se.VII.  of  Invitations,  &c.  againft  themfelves.  263 
materially  virtuous,  yet  at  the  fame  time  they  take 
away  the  form  of  Virtue,  becaufe  they  deftroy 
Liberty  •,  as  they,  by  their  own  power,  put  the 
will  out  of  its  equilibrium,  determine  and  turn 
the  fcale,  and  take  the  work  of  felf-determimng 
power  out  of  its  hands.  And  the  clearer  the  in- 
itructions  that  are  given,  the  more  powerful  the 
arguments  that  are  ufed,  and  the  more  moving 
the  perfuafions  or  examples,  the  more  likely 
they  are  to  fruftrate  their  own  defign ;  becaufe 
they  have  fo  much  the  greater  tendency  to  put 
the  will  out  of  its  balance,  to  hinder  its  freedom 
of  felf- determination  ;  and  fo  to  exclude  the  very 
form  of  virtue,  and  the  effence  of  whatsoever  i$ 
praife-worthy. 

So  it  clearly  follows,  from  thefe  principles,  that 
God  has  no  hand  in  any  man's  virtue,  nor  does 
at  all  promote  it,  either  by  a  phyfical  or  moral 
influence  ;  that  none  of  the  moral  methods,  He 
ufes  with  men  to  promote  virtue  in  the  world, 
have  tendency  to  the  attainment  of  that  end; 
that  all  the  inductions,  which  He  has  given  to 
men,  from  the  beginning  of  the  world  to  this 
day,  by  Prophets  or  Apoflles,  or  by  His  Son 
Jefus  Chrift ;  that  all  his  counfels,  invitations, 
promifes,  threatenings,  warnings  and  expoflu- 
lations  ;  that  all  means,  He  has  ufed  with  men, 
in  ordinances,  or  providences ;  yea,  all  influ 
ences  of  his  Spirit,  ordinary  and  extraordinary, 
have  had  no  tendency  at  all  to  excite  anyone 
virtuous  act  of  the  mind,  or  to  promote  any 
thing  morally  good  and  commendable,  in  any 
refpect. — For  there  is  no  way  that  thefe  or  any 
other  means  can  promote  virtue,  but  one  of  thefe 
three.  Either  (i.)  By  a  phyfical  operation  on 
the  heart.  But  all  effects  that  are  wrought  in 
rnen  in  this  way,  have  no  virtue  in  them,  by 

the 


265  Arminianifm  excludes  all  Virtue,  Part  III. 
the  concurring  voice  of  all  Armintans.  Or,  (2.) 
Morally,  by  exhibiting  Motives .  to  the  under- 
Iknciing,  to  excite  good  acts  in  the  will.  But 
it  has  been  demonftrated,  that  volitions,  which 
are  excited  by  Motives,  are  necefiary,  and  not 
excited  by  a  -felt-moving  power ;  and  therefore, 
by  their  principles,  there  is  no  Virtue  in  them. 
Or,  (3.)  By  meerly  giving  the  will  an  opportu 
nity  to  determine  itielf  concerning  the  objects 
propofed,  either  to  chufe  or  reject,  by  its  own 
uncaufed,  unmoved,  uninfluenced  ieif -determi 
nation.  And  if  this  be  all,  then  all  thofe  means 
ek>  no  more  to  promote  virtue  than  vice :  for 
they  do  nothing  but  give  the  will  opportunity 
to  determine  itielf  either  way,  either  to  good  or 
bad,  without  laying  it  u'nder  any  bias  to  either : 
and  io  there  is  really  as  much  of  an  opportunity 
given  to  determine  in  favour  of  evil,  as  of 
good. 

Thus  that  horrid  blafphemous  confequence  will 
certainly  follow  from  the  Arminian  doctrine,  which 
they  charge  on  others  ;  namely,  that  God  acts  an 
inconfiftent  part  in  ufing  fo  many  counfels,  warn 
ings,  invitations,  intreaties,  csV.  with  iinners, 
to  induce  them  to  forfake  fin,  and  turn  to  the 
ways  of  virtue ;  and  that  all  are  infmcere  and 
fallacious.  It  will  follow,  from  their  doctrine, 
that  God  does  thefe  things  when  He  knows,  at 
the  fame  time,  that  they  have  no  manner  of 
tendency  to  promote  the  effect,  He  feems  to  aim 
at;  yea,  knows  that  if  they  have  any  influence, 
this  very  influence  will  be  inconiiilent  with  fuch 
an  effect,  and  will  prevent  it.  But  what  an  im 
putation  of  infincerity  would  this  fix  on  Him, 
who  is  infinitely  holy  and  true  ! — So  that  their's 
is  the  doctrine  v/h'ch,  if  purfued  in  its  confe- 
quences,  does  horribly  reflect  on  the  moil  Hinh, 

and 


Sect.  VII.     and  Vice,  out  of  tie  WorlL  267 

and  fix  on  Hirn  the  charge  of  hypocrify ;  and 
not  the  do&rine  of  the  Cahinift ;  according  to 
their  frequent,  and  vehement  exclamations  and 
invectives. 

Corol.  2.  From  what  has  been  obferved  in  this 
lection,  it  again  appears,  that  Arminian  principles 
and  notions,  when  fairly  examined  and  purfued 
in  their  demottitrablc  confequences,  do  evidently 
iliut  all  virtue  out  of  the  world,  and  make  it 
impoffible  that  there  ihould  ever  be  any  fuch 
thing,  in  any  cafe  ;  or  that  any  fuch  thing  mould 
ever  be  conceived  of.  For,  by  thefe  principles, 
the  very  notion  of  virtue  or  vice  implies  ab- 
furdity  and  contradiction.  For  it  is  abfurd  in 
itfelf/and  contrary  to  common  fenfe,  to  fup 
pofe  a  virtuous  act  of  mind  without  any  good 
intention  or  aim  \  and,  by  their  principles,  it  is 
abfurd  to  fuppofe  a  virtuous  act  with  a  good  in 
tention  or  aim  ;  for  to  act  for  an  end,  is  to  act 
from  a  Motive.  So  that  if  we  rely  on  thefe  prin- 
cipleSj  there  can  be  no  virtuous  act  with  a  good 
defign  and  end-,  and  it  is  felf-evideut,  there  can 
be  none  without :  confequently  there  can  be  no 
virtuous  act  at  all. 

Corol.  3.  It  is  manifeft,  that  Arminian  notions 
of  moral  agency,  and  the  leing  of  a  faculty  of 
will,  cannot  confiil  together  •,  and  that  if  there 
be  any  fuch  thing  as  either  a  virtuous  or  vici 
ous  act,  it  cannot  be  an  act  of  the  will ;  no  will 
can  be  at  all  concerned  in  it.  For  that  act  which 
is  performed  without  inclination,  without  Motive, 
without  end,  muft  be  performed  without  any 
concern  of  the  will.  To  fuppofe  an  act  of  the 
will  without  thefe,  implies  a  contradiction.  If 
the  foul  in  its  act  has  no  motive  or  end  ;  then, 
in  that  act  (as  was  obferved  before)  it  feeks  no 
thing, 


268  Armin.  excludes  all  Virtue,  &c.  Part  III, 
thing,  goes  after  nothing,  exerts  no  inclination  to 
any  thing ;  and  this  implies,  that  in  that  act  it 
defires  nothing,  and  chufes  nothing;  fo  that  there 
is  no  act:  of  choice  in  the  cafe :  and  that  is  as 
much  as  to  fay,  there  is  no  act  of  will  in  the  cafe. 
Which  very  effectually  ihuts  all  vicious  and  vir 
tuous  acts  out  of  the  univerfe ;  in  as  much  as, 
according  to  this,  there  can  be  no  vicious  or  vir 
tuous  ad  wherein  the  will  is  concerned  ;  and  ac 
cording  to  the  plaineft  dictates  of  reafon,  and  the 
light  of  nature,  and  alfo  the  principles  of  Armi- 
jiians  themfelves,  there  can  be  no  virtuous  or 
vicious  act  wherein  the  will  is  not  concerned. 
And  therefore  there  is  no  room  for  any  virtuous 
Or  vicious  acts  at  all. 

Corol  4.  If  none  of  the  moral  actions  of  in* 
telligent  beings  are  influenced  by  either  previous 
Inclination  or  Motive,  another  ftrange  thing  will 
follow  ;  and  this  is,  that  God  not  only  cannot 
fore-know  any  of  the  future  moral  actions  of  his 
creatures,  but  he  can  make  no  conjecture,  can 
give  no  probable  guefs  concerning  them.  For, 
ill  conjecture  in  things  of  this  nature,  muft  de 
pend  on  fome  difcerning  or  apprehenfion  of  thefc 
two.  \\\mg$,  previous  Difpojition,  and  Motive,  which, 
as  has  been  obferved,  Arminian  notions  of  moral 
agency,  in  their  real  confequence,  altogether  ex 
clude.  ~&J  i 


PART 


PART     IV.         : 

Wherein  the  chief  grounds  of  the 
reafonings  of  Arminians,  in  fup- 
port  and  defence  of  the  foremen- 
tioned  notions  of  Liberty,  moral 
Agency,  Sec.  and  againft  the  op- 
polite  do&rine,  are  considered. 


SECTION    I. 

The  Eflence  of  the  Virtue  and  Vice  of  Difpojitions 
of  the  Heart,  and  ARs  of  the  Will>  lies  not  in 
their  Caufe,  but  their  Nature. 

ONE  main  foundation  of  the  reafons,  which 
are  brought  to  eftabliih  the  forementioned 
notions    of   liberty,  virtue,  vice,  &c.   is  a  fup- 
pofition,  that  the  virtuoufnefs  of  the  difpofitions, 
or  ads  of  the  will,  confifts  not  in  the  nature  of 
thefe  difpofitions  or  adts,  but  wholly  in  the  Origin 
or  Caufe  of  them  :  fo  that  if  the  difpofition  of  the 
mind,  or  a&s  of  the  will,  be  never  fo  good,  yet  if 
the  Caufe  of  the  difpofition  or  a6l  be  not  our  vir- 
i  tue, 


270  Of  the  EfTence  of  Virtue  and  Vice.  Part  IV. 
tue,  there  is  nothing  virtuous  or  praife- worthy  in 
it ;  and,  on  the  contrary,  if  the  will,  in  its  incli 
nation  or  acts,  be.  never  fo  bad,  yet,  unlefs  it  arifes 
from  fomething  that  is  our  vice  or  fault,  there  is 
nothing  vicious  or  blame- wo tth'y  in  it.  Hence 
their  grand  objection  and  pretended  demonftra- 
tion,  or  felf-evidence,  againil  any  virtue  and  com- 
mendablenefs,  or  vice  and  blame-worthinefs,  of 
thofe  habits  or  acts  of  the  will,  which  are  not 
from  fome  virtuous  or  vicious  determination  of 
the  will  itfelf. 

Now,  if  this  matter  be  well  confidered,  it  will 
appear  to  be  altogether  a  miftake,  yea,  a  grofs 
abfurdity  ;  and  that  it  is  moft  certain,  that  if 
there  be  any  fuch  things,  as  a  virtuous  or  vicious 
difpofition,  or  volition  of  mind,  the  virtuoufnefs 
or  vicioufnefs  of  them  confifts  not  in  the  Origin 
or  Caufe  of  thefe  things,  but  in  the  Nature  of 
them. 

If  the  Eflence  of  virtuoufnefs  or  commendable- 
nefs,  and  of  vicioufnefs  or  fault,  does  not  lie  in 
the  Nature  of  the  difpoiitions  or  acts  of  mind, 
which  are  faid  to  be  our  virtue  or  our  fault,  but 
in  their  Caufe,  then  it  is  certain  it  lies  no  where 
at  all.  Thus,  for  inflance,  if  the  vice  of  a  vicious 
act  of  will,  lies  not  in  the  Nature  of  the  act,  but 
the  Caufe  ;  fo  that  its  being  of  a  bad  Nature  will 
not  make  it  at  all  our  fault,  unlefs  it  arifes  from 
fome  faulty  determination  of  our's,  as  its  Caufe, 
or  fomething  in  us  that  is  our  fault ;  then,  for 
the  fame  reafon,  neither  can  the  vicioufnefs  of 
that  Caufe  lie  in  the  Nature  of  the  thing  itfelf, 
but  in  its  Caufe  :  that  evil  determination  of  our's 
is  not  our  fault,  meerly  becaule  it  is  of  a  bad 
Nature,  unlefs  it  arifes  from  fome  Caufe  in  us 
that  is  our  fault.  And  when  we  are  come  to 

this 


Sect.  I*     T&  ElTence  of  Virtus  and  Vice.  2  7 1 

this  higher  Caufe,  Hill  the  reafon  of  the  thing 
holds  good  ;  though  this  Caufe  be  of  a  bad  Na 
ture,  yet  we  are  not  at  all  to  blame  on  that  account, 
unlefs  it  arifes  from  fomething  faulty  in  us.  Nor 
yet  can  blame- worthinefs  lie  in  the  Nature  of  this 
Caufe,  but  in  the  Caufe  of  that.  And  thus  we 
muil  drive  faultinefs  back  from  ftep  to  flcp,  from 
a  lower  Caufe  to  a  higher,  in  infinitum:  and  that 
is,  thoroughly  to  banifh  it  from  the  world,  and  to 
allow  it  no  poffibility  of  exiftence  any  where  in  the 
univerfality  of  things.  On  thefe  principles,  vice, 
or  moral  evil,  cannot  coniift  in  any  thing  that  is  ail 
effeft  ;  becaufe/^//  does  not  confift  in  the  Nature 
of  things,  but  in  their  Caufe  ;  as  well  as  becaufe 
effects  are  neceffary,  being  unavoidably  connected 
with  their  Caufe  :  therefore  the  Caufe  only  is  to 
blame.  And  fo  it  follows,  that  faultinefs  can  lie 
only  in  that  Caufe>  which  is  a  Caufe- only  >  and  no 
effect  of  any  thing.  Nor  yet  can  it  lie  in  this  ;  for 
then  it  muft  lie  in  the  Nature  of  the  thin^  itfelf ; 
not  in  its  being  from  any  determination  of  our's, 
nor  any  thing  faulty  in  us  which  is  the  Caufe,  nor 
indeed  from  any  Caufe  at  all ;  for,  by  the  fiippofi- 
tion,  it  is  no  effect,  and  has  no  Caufe.  And  thus, 
he  that  will  maintain,  it  is  not  the  Nature  of  ha 
bits  or  acts  of  will  that  makes  them  virtuous  or 
faulty,  but  the  Caufe,  muft  immediately  run  him- 
felf  out  of  his  own  aiTertion  •,  and  in  maintaining 
hj  will  infenfibly  contradict  and  deny  it. 

This  is  certain,  that  if  effects  are  vicious  and 
faulty,  not  from  their  Nature,  or  from  any  thing 
inherent  in  them,  but  becaufe  they  are  from  a  bad 
Caufe,  it  muil  be  on  account  of  the  badnefi  of 
the  Caufe  :  a  bad  effect  in  the  will  muft  be  bad, 
becaufe  the  Caufe  is  bad,  or  of  an  evil  Nature,  or 
has  vadnefs  as  a  quality  inherent  in  it :  and  a  goou 

eflccr 


272       tffe  Eflence  of  Virtue  and  Vice.     Part  IV* 

effect  in  the  will  mud  be  good,  by  reafon  of  the 
goodnefs  of  the  Caufe,  or  its  being  of  a  good  Kind 
and  Nature.  And  if  this  be  what  is  meant,  the  very 
fuppofition  of  fault  and  praife  lying  not  in  the  Na 
ture  of  the  thing,  but  the  Caufe,  contradicts  itfelf, 
and  does  at  leaft  refolve  the  Eflence  of  virtue  and 
vice  into  the  Nature  of  things,  and  fuppofes  it  ori 
ginally  to  confift  in  that.— And  if  a  caviller  has  a 
mind  to  run  from  the  abfurdity,  by  faying,  "  No, 
"  the  fault  of  the  thing,  which  is  the  Caufe,  lies 
"  not  in  this,  that  the  Caufe  itfelf  is  of  an  evil  Na- 
"  ture,  but  that  the  Caufe  is  evil  in  that  fenfe, 
"  that  it  is  from  another  bad  Caufe."  Still  the 
abfurdity  will  follow  him  ;  for,  if  fo,  then  the 
Caufe  before  charged  is  at  once  acquitted,  and  all 
the  blame  muft  be  laid  to  the  higher  Caufe,  and 
muft  confift  in  that's  being  evil,  or  of  an  evil  Nature. 
So  now,  we  are  come  again  to  lay  the  blame  of  the 
thing  blame- worthy,  to  the  Nature  of  the  thing, 
and  'not  to  the  Caufe.  And  if  any  is  fo  foolifli  as 
to  go  higher  {till,  and  afcend  from  ftep  to  ftep, 
till  he  is  come  to  that,  which  is  the  firft  Caufe  con 
cerned  in  the  whole  affair,  and  will  fay,  all  the 
blame  lies  in  that-,  then,  at  laft,  he  muft  be  forced 
to  own,  that  the  faultinefs  of  the  thing,  which  he 
fuppofes  alone  blame-worthy,  lies  wholly  in  the 
Nature  of  the  thing,  and  not  in  the  Original  or 
Caufe  of  it  j  for  the  fuppofition  is,  that  it  has  no 
Original,  it  is  determined  by  no  aft  of  our's,  is 
cauled  by  nothing  faulty  in  us,  being  abfolutely 
without  any  Caufe<  And  fo  the  race  is  at  an  end, 
but  the  evader  is  taken  in  his  flight. 

It  is  agreable  to  the  natural  notions  of  man- 
kind,  that  moral  evil,  with  its  deiert  of  diilike 
and  abhorence,  and  all  its  other  ill-defervings, 
confifts  in  a  certain  deformity  in  the  Nature  of  cer 
tain  difpofitions  of  the  heart,  and  acts  of  the 

will* 


Sedt  I.       In  the  Nature  of  Volition,  &c.          273 

will ;  and  not  in  the  deformity  of  fomething  elfe9 
diverfe  from  the  very  thing  itfelf,  which  deferves 
abhorrence,  fuppofed  to  be  the  Caufe  of  it. 
Which  would  be  abfurd,  becaufe  that  would  be 
to'fuppofe  a  thing,  that  is  innocent  and  not  evil* 
is  truly  evil  and  faulty,  becaufe  another  thing  is 
evil.  It  implies  a  contradiction  ;  for  it  would 
be  to  fuppofe,  the  very  thing,  which  is  morally 
evil  and  blame-worthy,  is  innocent  and  not  blame 
worthy  ;  but  that  fomething  elfe,  which  is  its 
Caufe,  is  only  to  blame.  To  fay,  that  vice  doei 
not  coniift  in  the  thing  which  is  vicious,  but  in 
its  Caufe,  is  the  fame  as  to  fay,  that  vice  does  not 
coniift  in  vice,  but  in  that  which  produces  it. 

It  is  true,  a  Caufe  may  be  to  blame,  for  being 
the  Caufe  of  vice :  it  may  be  wickednefs  in  the 
Caufe,  that  it  produces  wickednefs.  But  it  would 
imply  a  contradiction,  to  fuppofe  that  thefe  two 
are  the  fame  individual  wickednefs.  The  wicked 
aft  of  the  Caufe  in  producing  wickednefs,  is 
one  wickednefs ;  and  the  wickednefs  produced, 
if  there  be  any  produced,  is  another.  And  there 
fore,  the  wickednefs  of  the  latter  does  not  lie  in 
the  former,  but  is  diftinct  from  it ;  and  the  wick 
ednefs  of  both  lies  in  the  evil  Nature  of  the  things, 
which  are  wicked.  * 

The  thing,  which  makes  fin  hateful,  is  that  by 
which  it  deferves  punifhment ;  which  is  but  the 
expreffion  of  hatred.  And  that,  which  renders 
virtue  lovely,  is  the  fame  with  that,  on  the  ac 
count  of  which,  it  is  fit  to  receive  praife  and  re 
ward  ;  which  are  but  the  exprefiions  of  efteern 
and  love.  But  that  which  makes  vice  hateful, 
is  its  hateful  Nature;  and  that  which  renders 
virtue  lovely,  is  its  amiable  Nature.  It  is  a  cer 
tain  beauty  or  deformity  that  are  inherent  in  that 

T  good 


174  ^  Eflence  of  Virtue  and  Vice,  Part  IV, 
good  or  evil  will,  which  is  the/0#/  of  virtue  and 
vice  (and  not  in  the  occafion  of  it)  which  is  their 
worthinefs  of  efteem  or  difefteem,  praife  or  dif 
praife,  according  to  the  common  fenfe  ot  man 
kind.  If  the  Caufe  or  occafion  of  the  rife  of  an 
hateful  difpofition  or  act  of  will,  be  alfo  hate 
ful  ;  fuppofe  another  antecedent  evil  will ;  that 
is  entirely  another  fin,  and  deferves  punifhment 
by  itfelf,  under  a  diftinct  confideration.  There 
is  worthinefs  of  difpraife  in  the  Nature  of  an  evil 
volition,  and  not  wholly  in  fome  foregoing  act, 
which  is  its  Caufe ;  otherwife  the  evil  volition, 
which  is  the  effect,  is  no  moral  evil,  any  more 
than  ficknefs,  or  fome  other  natural  calamity, 
which  arifes  from  a  Caufe  morally  evil. 

Thus,  for  inftance,  ingratitude  is  hateful  and 
worthy  of  difpraife,  according  to  common  fenfe ; 
not  becaufe  fomething  as  bad,  or  worfe  than  in 
gratitude,  was  the  Caufe  that  produced  it ;  but 
becaufe  it  is  hateful  in  itfelf,  by  its  own  inherent 
deformity.  So  the  love  of  virtue  is  amiable, 
and  worthy  of  praife,  not  meerly  becaufe  fome 
thing  elfe  went  before  this  love  of  virtue  in  our 
minds,  which  cauled  it  to  take  place  there ;  for 
inftance,  our  own  choice  ;  we  chofe  to  love  vir 
tue,  and,  by  fome  method  or  other,  wrought  our- 
felves  into  the  love  of  it ;  but  becaufe  of  the 
amiablenefs  and  condefcency  of  fuch  a  difpofi 
tion  and  inclination  of  heart.  If  that  was  the 
cafe,  that  we  did  chufe  to  love  virtue,  and  fo 
produced  that  love  in  ourfelves,  this  choice  it 
felf  could  be  no  otherwife  amiable  or  praife  wor 
thy,  than  as  love  to  virtue,  or  fome  other  ami 
able  inclination,  was  exercifed  and  implied  in  it. 
If  that  choice  was  amiable  at  all,  it  muft  be  fo 
on  account  of  fome  amiable  quality  in  the  Na 
ture  of  the  choice.  If  we  chofe  to  love  virtue, 
j  not 


Sect.  I.  in  tie  Nat.  ofVolit.  not  in  the  Caufe.    275 

not  in  love  to  virtue,  or  any  thing  that  was 
good,  and  exercifed  no  fort  of  good  difpoiition 
in  the  choice,  the  choice  itfelf  was  not  virtu 
ous,  nor  worthy  of  any  praife,  according  to  com 
mon  fenfe,  becaufe  the  choice  was  not  of  a  good 
Nature. 

It  may  not  be  improper  here  to  take  notice  of 
fomething  faid  by  an  author,  that  has  lately  made 
a  mighty  noife  in  America.     "  A  neceffary  holi- 
"  nefs  (fays  he  *)  is  no  holinefs. — Adam  could 
"  not  be  originally  created  in  righteoufnefs  and 
"  true  holinefs,  becaufe   he    muft   cbufe   to    be 
"  righteous,  before  he  could  be  righteous.     And 
"  therefore  he  muft  exift,   he  muft  be  created, 
<c  yea,  he  muft  exercife  thought  and  reflection, 
"  before  he   was  righteous."      There  is  much 
more  to  the  fame  effect  in  that  place,  and  alfo  in 
p.  437,  438,  439,  440.     If  thefe  things  are  fo, 
it  will  certainly  follow,  that  the  firft  chufing  to  be 
righteous  is   no   righteous   choice  -9    there   is    no 
righteoufnefs  or  holinefs  in  it;  becaufe  no  chuf 
ing  to  be  righteous  goes  before  it.  For  he  plainly 
ipeaks  of  chufing  to  be  righteous,  as  what  muft  go 
before  rigbteoufnefs :  and  that  which  follows  the 
choice,  being  the  effect  of  the  choice,  cannot  be 
righteoufnefs    or   holinefs :    for   an    effect   is    a 
thing  neceffary,  and  cannot  prevent  the  influence 
or  efficacy  of  its  Caufe ;    and  therefore  is  una 
voidably   dependent  upon   the   Caufe :    and  he 
fays,  a  necejja/y  holinefs  is  no  holinefs.     So   that 
neither  can   a  choice  of  righteoufnefs  be  righte 
oufnefs  or  holinefs,  nor  can    any  thing  that  is 
confequent  on   that  choice,  and  the  eifect  of  it, 
be  righteoufnefs  or  holinefs ;  nor  can  any  thing 
that  is  without  choice,  be  righteoufnefs  or  hpli- 

*  Scrip.  Doc.  of  Original  Sin,  p.  180.  3d  Edit. 

T  2  nefs. 


The  EfTence  of  Virtue  and  Vice,     Part  IV.  • 
nefs.     So  that  by  his  fcheme,  ail  righteoufnefs 
and  holinefs  is   at  once  fhut  out  of  the  world, 
and  no  door  left  open,  by  which  it  can  ever  pof- 
libly  enter  into  the  world. 

I  fuppofe,  the  way,  that  men  came  to  entertain 
this  abfurd  inconiiftent  notion,  with  refpect  to 
internal  inclinations- and  volitions  thtmfelves,  (or 
notions  that  imply  it,)  viz.  that  the  EfTence  of 
their  moral  good  or  evil  lies  not  in  their  Nature, 
but  their  Caufe  :  was,  that  it  is  indeed  a  very  plain 
dictate  of  common  fenfe,  that  it  is  fo  with  reSpect 
to  all  outward  aftions,  and  fenfible  motions  of  the 
body  ;  that  the  moral  good  or  evil  of  them  does 
not  lie  at  all  in  the  motions  themfelves  j  which, 
taken  by  themfelves,  are  nothing  of  a  moral  na 
ture  •,  and  the  Effence  of  all  the  moral  good  or 
evil  that  concerns  them,  lies  in  thofe  internal  dif- 
pofitions  and  voilitions,  which  are  the  Caufe  of 
them.  No\v,  being  always  uled  to  determine  this, 
without  hefitation  or  difpute,  concerning  external 
Affions;  which  are  the  things,  that  in  the  com 
mon  ufe  of  language  are  fignified  by  fuch 
phrafes,  as  men's  aftions,  or  their  doings  *,  hence^ 
when  they  came  to  fpeak  of  volitions,  and  inter 
nal  exercifes  of  their  inclinations,  under  the  fame 
denomination  of  their  aftions,  or  what  they  do, 
they  unwarily  determined  the  cafe  muft  alfo  be 
the  fame  with  thefe,  as  with  external  aflions  -,  nor 
confidering  the  vaft  difference  in  the  Nature  of 
the  cafe. 

If  any  fliall  ftill  object  and  fay,  why  is  it  net 
neceflary  that  the  Caufe  fhould  be  conlldered,  .in 
order  to  determine  whether  any  thing  be  worthy 
of  blame  or  praife  ?  is  it  agreable  to  reafon  and 
common  fenfe,  that  a  man  is  to  be  praifed  .or 

blamed 


Sect.  I.  in  /^Nat.  of  Volition  not  in  Afo  Caufe.  277 

blamed  for  that,  which  he  is  not  the  Caufe  or  au 
thor  of,  and  has  no  hand  in  ? 

I  anfwer,  fuch  phrafes  as  being  the  Caufe,  being 
the  author )  kerning  a  hand^  and  the  like,  are  am 
biguous.  They  are  moft  vulgarly  underflood  for 
being  the  defigning  voluntary  Caufe,  or  Caufe  by 
antecedent  choice  :  and  it  is  moft  certain,  that 
men  are  not,  in  this  fenfe,  the  Caufes  or  authors 
of  the  firft  ad:  of  their  wills,  in  any  cafe ;  as 
certain  as  any  thing  is,  or  ever  can  be ;  for  no 
thing  can  be  more  certain,  than  that  a  thing  is 
not  before  it  is,  nor  a  thing  of  the  fame  kind 
before  the  firft  thing  of  that  kind ;  and  fo  no 
choice  before  the  firft  choice. — As  the  phrafe, 
bang  the  author ,  may  be  under ftood,  not  of  be* 
ing  the  producer  by  an  antecedent  act  of  will  ; 
but  as  a  perfon  may  be  faid  to  be  the  author  of 
the  act  of  will  itfelf,  by  his  being  the  imme 
diate  agent,  or  the  being  that  is  afting,  or  in  ex- 
ercife  in  that  act ;  if  the  phrafe  of  being  the  au 
thor,  is  ufed  to  fignify  this,  then  doubtlefs  com 
mon  fenfe  requires  men's  being  the  authors  of 
their  own  acts  of  will,  in  order  to  their  being 
efteemed  worthy  of  praife  or  difpraife,  on  account 
of  them.  And  common  fenfe  teaches,  that  they 
muft  be  the  authors  of  external  attions,  in  the 
former  fenfe,  namely,  their  being  the  Caufes  of 
them  by  an  act  of  will  or  choice,  in  order  to 
their  being  juftly  blamed  or  praifed :  but  it 
teaches  no  fuch  thing  with  refpect  to  the  acts  of 

the  will    themfelves. But  this    may  appear 

more  manifeft  by  the  things,  which  will  be  ob-* 
ferved  in  the  following  fection. 


SECTION 


278      ?be  Arminian  Notion  of  Adion,    Part 


SECTION     II. 

The  Falfenefs  and  Inconjiftence  of  that  metaphyji- 
cal  Notion  of  A&ion,  and  Agency,  which  feems 
to  be  generally  entertained  by  the  Defenders  of 
the  Arminian  Doftrine  concerning  Liberty,  moral 
Agency  ^  &c. 

ONE  thing,  that  is  made  very  much  a  ground 
of  argument  and  fuppofed  demonflration  by 
ArminianS)  in  defence  of  the  fore- mentioned  prin 
ciples,  concerning  moral  Agency,  virtue,  vice, 
£cc.  is  their  metaphyfical  notion  of  Agency  and 
Action.  They  fay,  unlefs  the  foul  has  a  felf-de- 
termining  power,  it  has  no  power  of  Action ;  if 
its  volitions  be  not  caufed  by  itfelf,  but  are  excited 
and  determined  by  fome  extrinfic  caufe,  they  can 
not  be  the  foul's  own  qfts  -,  and  that  the  foul^can- 
not  be  aflive^  but  muft  be  wholly  pqffive,  in  thofe 
effects  which  it  is  the  fubject  of  neceflarily,  and 
not  from  its  qwn  free  4etermipatlon. 

Mr.  CJjubb-  lays  the  foundation  of  his  fcheme 
of  liberty,  and  of  his  arguments  to  fupport  it, 
very  much  in  this  poiition,  that  man  is  an  Agent 9 
and  capable  of  Action.  Which  doubtlcfs  is  true  : 
\2\rt  JeLf -determination  belongs  to  his  notion  of  Ac 
tion^  and  is  the  very  effence  of  it.  Whence  he 
infers,  that  it  is  impoffible  for  a  man(to  act  and 
he  acted  upon,  in  the  fame  thing,  at  the  fame 
time  •,  and  that  nothing,  that  is  an  Action,  can 
b«  the  effect  of  the  Action  of  another  :  and  he 
infills,  that  a  neceffary  Agent,  or  an  Agent  that  is 
neceflarily  determined  to  act,  is  a  plain  contra- 
action. 

But 


Sect.  II.  falfe  and  inconjlftent.  279 

But  thofe  are  a  precarious  fort  of  demonftra- 
tions,  which  men  build  on  the  meaning  that  they 
arbitrarily  affix  to  a  word ;  efpecially  when  that 
meaning  is  abftrufe,  inconfiftent,  and  entirely  di- 
verfe  from  the  original  fenfe  of  the  word  in  com 
mon  fpeech. 

That  the  meaning  of  the  word  Aftwn,  as  Mr. 
Chubb  and  many  others  ufe  it,  is  utterly  unintel 
ligible  and  inconfiftent,  is  manifeft,  becaufe  it  be 
longs  to  their  notion  of  an  Action,  that  it  is  fome- 
thing  wherein  is  no  pafiion  or  paffivenefs  •,  that 
is  ("according  to  their  fenfe  of  paffivenefs)  it  is 
under  the  power,  influence  or  Action  of  no  caufe. 
And  this  implies,  that  Action  has  no  caufe,  and 
jis  no  effect ;  for  to  be  an  effect  implies  paffive- 
nefs,  or  the  being  fubjed  to  the  power  and  Ac 
tion  of  its  caufe.  And  yet  they  hold,  that  the 
mind's  Aftion  is  the  effect  of  its  own  determina 
tion,  yea,  the  mind's  free  and  voluntary  deter 
mination;  which  is  the  fame  with  free  choice. 
So  that  Action  is  the  effect  of  fomething  preced 
ing,  even  a  preceding  act  of  choice :  and  con- 
fequently,  in  this  effect  the  mind  is  pafilve,  fub- 
ject  to  the  power  and  Action  of  the  preceding 
caufe,  which  is  the  foregoing  choice,  and  there 
fore  cannot  be  active.  So  that  here  we  have  this 
contradiction,  that  Action  is  always  the  effect  of 
foregoing  choice  ;  and  therefore  cannot  be  Ac- 
ion  ;  becaufe  it  is  paflive  to  the  power  of  that  pre 
ceding  caufai  choice ;  and  the  mind  cannot'  be 
active  and  paflive  in  the  fame  thing,  at  the  fame 
time.  Again,  they  fay,  neceflity  is  utterly  incon 
fiftent  with  AcStion,  and  a  necefTary  Action  is  a 
contradiction  •,  and  fo  their  notion  of  Action  im 
plies  contingence,  and  excludes  all  neceffity.  And 
therefore,  their  notion  of  Action  implies,  that  it 
has  no  necefTary  dependence  or  connection  with 

T  4  any 


2,80  fbe  Arminian  Notion  of  Action,  Part  IV. 
any  thing  foregoing ;  for  fuch  a  dependence  or 
connection  excludes  contingence,  and  implies 
neceffity.  And  yet  their  notion  of  Action  im 
plies  necerTity,  and  fuppofes  that  it  is  neceifary, 
and  cannot  be  contingent.  For  they  fuppofe,  that 
whatever  is  properly  called'  Action,  mud  be  de 
termined  by  the  will  and  free  choice  ;  and  this 
is  as  much  as  to  fay,  that  it  muft  be  neceffary, 
being  dependent  upon,  and  determined  by  fome- 
thing  foregoing ;  namely,  a  foregoing  act  of 
choice.  Again,  it  belongs  to  their  notion  of 
Action,  of  that  which  is  a  proper  and  meer  act, 
that  it  is  the  beginning  of  motion,  or  of  exertion 
pf  power  ;  but  yet  it  is  implied  in  their  notion  of 
Action,  that  it  is  not  the  beginning  of  motion  or 
exertion  of  power,  but  is  confequent  and  depen 
dent  on  a  preceding  exertion  of  power,  viz.  the 
power  of  will  and  choice :  for  they  fay  there  is 
no  proper  Action  but  what  is  freely  chofen-,  or, 
which  is  the  fame  thing,  determined  by  a  fore 
going  ad  of  free  choice.  But  if  any  of  them 
Jnal)  fee  caufe  to  deny  this,  and  fay  they  hold  no 
fuch  thing  as  that  every  Action  is  chofen  or  de 
termined  by  a  foregoing  choice-,  but  that  the 
very  firft  exertion  of  will  only,  undetermined 
by  any  preceding  act,  is  properly  called  Action ; 
then  I  fay,  fuch  a  man's  notion  of  Action  implies 
iieceflity;  for  what  the  mind  is  the  fubject  of, 
without  the  determination  of  its  own  previous 
choice,  it  is  the  fubject  of  necefTarily,  as  to  any 
hand,  that  free  choice  has  in  the  affair,  and3 
without  any  ability,  the  mind  has  to  prevent 
it,  by  any  will  or  election  of  its  own }  becaufe 
by  the  fuppofition  it  precludes  all  previous  acts 
of  the  will  or  choice  in  the  cafe,  which  might 
prevent  it.  So  that  it  is  again,  in  this  other  way, 
implied  in  their  notion  of  act,  that  it  is  both 
neceffary  and  not  neceffary.  Again,  it  belongs  to 

their 


Seft.  II.  falfe  and  inconfiftent.  ;  281 

their  notion  of  an  aft,  that  it  is  no  effeft  of  a 
pre  -  determining  bias  or  preponderation,  but 
fprings  immediately  out  of  indifference ;  and  this 
implies,  that  it  cannot  be  from  foregoing  choice, 
which  is  foregoing  preponderation :  if  it  be  not 
habitual,  but  occasional,  yet  if  it  caufes  the  aft, 
it  is  truly  previous,  efficacious  and  determining. 
And  yet,  at  the  fame  time,  it  is  eflential  to  their 
notion  of  the  aft,  that  it  is  what  the  Agent  is  the 
Author  of  freely  and  voluntarily,  and  that  is,  by 
previous  choice  and  defign. 

So  that,  according  to  their  notion  of  the  aft, 
confidered  with  regard  to  its  confequences,  thefe 
following  things  arc  all  effential  to  it ;  viz.  Than 
it  fhould  be  neceffary,  and  not  necefiary ;  that  it 
fhould  be  from  a  caufe,  and  no  caufe ;  that  it 
fhould  be  the  fruit  of  choice  and  defign,  and  not 
the  fruit  of  choice  and  defign;  that  it  mould  be 
the  beginning  of  motion  or  exertion,  and  yet 
confequent  on  previous  exertion ;  that  it  mould 
be  before  it  is *,  that  it  mould  fpring  immediately 
out  of  indifference  and  equilibrium,  and  yet  be 
the  effeft  of  preponderation  •,  that  it  fhould  be 
felf-originated,  and  alfo  have  its  original  from 
fomething  elfe  ;  that  it  is  what  the  mind  caufes  it- 
felf,  of  its  own  will,  and  can  produce  or  prevent, 
according  to  its  choice  or  pleafure,  and  yet  what 
the  mind  has  no  power  to  prevent,  precluding 
all  previous  choice  in  the  affair. 

So  that  an  aft,  according  to  their  metaphyfical 
notion  of  it,  is  fomething  of  which  there  is  no 
idea  •,  it  is  nothing  but  a  confufion  of  the  mind, 
excited  by  v/ords  without  any  dillinft  meaning, 
and  is  an  abfolute  non-entity  ;  and  that  in  two 
refpefts:  (i.)  There  is  nothing  in  the  \vorld 
that  ever  was,  is,  or  can  be,  to  anftyer  the  things 

which 


282      tte  Arminian  Notion  of  Action,    Part  IV. 

which  mufl  belong  to  its  defcription,  according 
to  what  they  fuppofe  to  be  efTential  to  it.  And 
(2.)  There  neither  is,  nor  ever  was,  nor  can  be, 
any  notion  or  idea  to  anfwer  the  word,  as  they 
life  and  explain  it.  For  if  we  fhould  fuppofe  any 
fuch  notion,  it  \vould  many  ways  deftroy  itfelf. 
But  it  is  impoffible  any  idea  or  notion  fhould 
fubfift  in  the  mind,  whofe  very  nature  and  ef- 
ience,  which  conftitutes  it,  deftroys  it. — If  fome 
learned  philofopher,  who  had  been  abroad,  in 
giving  an  account  of  the  curious  obfervations  he 
had  made  in  his  travels,  fhould  fay,  "  He  had 
"  been  in  ferra  del  Fuego,  and  there  had  feen  an 
**  animal,  which  he  calls  by  a  certain  name, 
u  that  begat  and  brought  forth  itfelf,  and  yet 
"  had  a  fire  and  dam  diftind:  from  itfelf ;  that 
**  it  had  an  appetite,  and  was  hungry  before  it 
"  had  a  being ;  that  his  mafter,  who  led  him, 
tc  and  governed  him  at  his  pleafure,  was  always 
<c  governed  by  him,  and  driven  by  him  where  he 
"  pleafed  ;  that  when  he  moved,  he  always  took 
"  a  ftep  before  the  firft  ftep  ;  that  he  went  with 
"  his  head  firft,  and  yet  always  went  tail  fore- 
"  mod  ;  and  this,  though  he  had  neither  head 
"  nor  tail  :"  it  would  be  no  impudence  at  all,  to 
tell  fuch  a  traveller,  though  a  learned  man,  that 
he  himfelf  had  no  notion  or  idea  of  fuch  an  ani 
mal,  as  he  gave  an  account  of,  and  never  had,  nor 
ever  would  have. 

As  the  forementioned  notion  of  Adlion  is  very 
inconfiilent,  fo  it  is  wholly  diverfe  from  the  ori 
ginal  meaning  of  the  word.  The  more  ufual 
iignirication  of  it,  in  vulgar  fpeech,  feems  to  be 
fome  motion  or  exertion  of  power ^  that  is  volun 
tary,  or  that  is  the  effett  of  the  will ;  and  is  ufed 
in  the  fame  fenfe  as  doing :  and  moft  commonly 
it  is  ufed  to  fignify  outward  Affions.  So  thinking  is 

often 


Sect.  IT.         falfe  and  inconjiftent.  283 

often  diflinguifhed  from  a  fling;  and  defiring  and 
willing^  from  doing* 

Befides  this  more  ufual  and  proper  fignification 
of  the  word  Aftion,  there  are  other  ways  in  which 
the  word  is  ufed,  that  are  lefs  proper,  which  yet 
have  place  in  common  fpeech.  Oftentimes  it  is 
ufed  to  fignify  fome  motion  or  alteration  in  in 
animate  things,  with  relation  to  fome  object 
and  effect.  So  the  fpring  of  a  watch  is  faid  to 
aft  upon  the  chain  and  wheels ;  the  fun-beams, 
to  act  upon  plants  and  trees ;  and  the  fire,  to  act 
upon  wood.  Sometimes,  the  word  is  ufed  to 
fignify  motions,  alterations,  and  exertions  of 
power,  which  are  feen  in  corporeal  things,  con- 
fidered  absolutely ;  efpecially  when  thefe  motions 
feem  to  arife  from  fome  internal  caufe  which  is 
hidden  •,  fo  that  they  have  a  greater  refemblancc 
of  thofe  motions  of  our  bodies,  which  are  the  ef 
fects  of  natural  volition,  or  invifible  exertions  of 
will.  So  the  fermentation  of  liquor,  the  opera 
tions  of  the  loadilone,  and  of  electrical  bodies, 
are  called  the  Aftion  of  thefe  things.  And  fome- 
times,  the  word  Aftion  is  ufed  to  fignify  the  ex- 
ercife  of  thought,  or  of  will  and  inclination  :  fo 
meditating,  loving,  hating,  inclining,  difinclin- 
ing,  chufmg  and  refuting,  may  be  fometimes 
called  acting ;  though  more  rarely  (unlefs  it  be 
by  philofophers  and  metaphyficians)  than  in  any 
of  the  other  fenfes. 

But  the  word  is  never  ufed  in  vulgar  fpeech 
in  that  fenfe,  which  Arminian  divines  ufe  it  in, 
namely,  for  the  felf-determinate  exercife  of  the 
will,  or  an  exertion  of  the  foul  that  arifes  with 
out  any  neceflary  connexion,  with  any  thing  fore 
going.  If  a  man  does  fomething  voluntarily,  or 
as  the  effect  of  his  choice,  then  in  the  moft  pro- 

per 


284  fie  Arminian  Notion  0/ Act  ion,  Part  IV. 
per  fenfe,  and  as  the  word  is  moft  originally  and 
commonly  ufed,  he  is  faid  to  aft :  but  whether 
that  choice  or  volition  be  felf- deter  mined,  or  no, 
whether  it  be  connected  with  foregoing  habitual 
bias,  whether  it  be  the  certain  effect  of  the  ftron- 
geft  motive,  or  fome  intrinfic  caufe,  never  comes 
into  coniideration  in  the  meaning  of  the  word. 

•And  if  the  word  A&ion  is  arbitrarily  ufed  by 
fome  men  otherwife,  to  fuit  feme  fcheme  of  me- 
taphyfic  or  morality,  no  argument  can  reafon- 
ably  be  founded  on  fuch  a  ufe  of  this  term,  to 
prove  any  thing  but  their  own  pleafure.  For 
divines  and  philofophers  ftrenuonfly  to  urge  fuch 
arguments,  as  though  they  were  fuificient  to  fup- 
port  and  demonftrate  a  whole  fcheme  of  moral 
philofophy  and  divinity,  is  certainly  to  erect  a 
mighty  edifice  on  the  fand,  or  rather  on  a  fhadow. 
And  though  it  may  now  perhaps,  through  cuitom, 
have  become  natural  for  them  to  ufe  the  word  in 
this  fenfe  f  if  that  may  be  called  a  fenfe  or  mean 
ing,  which  is  inconfiftent  with  itfelf )  yet  this  does 
not  prove,  that  it  is  agreable  to  the  natural  notions, 
men  have  of  things,  or  that  there  can  be  any 
thing  in  the  creation  that  mould  anfwer  fuch  a 
meaning.  And  though  they  appeal  to  experi 
ence,  yet  the  truth  is,  that  men  are  fo  far  from 
experiencing  any  fuch  thing,  that  it  is  impoffible 
for  them  to  have  any  conception  of  it. 

If  it  ihould  be  objected,  that  Aftion  and  PaJJion 
are  doubtlefs  words  of  a  contrary  iignification ; 
bnt  to  fuppofe  that  the  Agent,  in  its  Action,  is 
under  the  power  and  influence  of  fomething  in 
trinfic,  is  to  confound  Action  and  Pailion,  an<i 
make  them  the  fame  thing, 

1  anfwert 


Sect.  II.          falfe  and  inconfiftent.  285 

I  anfvver,  that  A6tion  and  Pafiion  are  doubt- 
lefs,  as  they  are  fometimes  ufed,  words  ot  op- 
poiite  fignificaiion-,  but  not  as  fignifying  oppofire 
exijlences*  but  only  oppofate  relations.-  The  words 
caufe  and  effcft  are  terms  o.f'  o(-  ofite  fi^nifica- 
tion  ^  but,  nevmhelefs,  if  1  aflert,  that  the  fame 
thing  may,  at  the  fame   time,    in  different  re- 
fpects  and  relations,    be   both   caufe   and   effe&9 
this  will   not  prove  that  I  confound  fhe  terms. 
The  foul  may  be  both  aftive'  and  pajjive  in  the 
fame  thing  in  different  refpeds ;  active  with  re 
lation  to  one  thing,  and  pajjlve  with  relation  to 
another.     The  word  Pajfiim,  when  fet  in  oppo- 
fition  to  Aftion,  or  rather  Adwenefs,  is  meeriy  a 
relative :  it  fignifies   no  effect  or  caule,  nor  'any- 
proper  exiftence  •,  but  is  the  fame  with  Pajfivenefs, 
or  a  being  paffive,  or  a  being  acted  upon  by  fome 
thing.     Which  is  a  meer  relation  of  a  thing  to 
fome  power  or  force  exerted  by  fome  cauie,  pro 
ducing  fome  effect  in  it,  or  upon  it.     And  Action, 
when  fet  properly  in  oppoiition  to  PaJJion,  or 
Pqffivenefs9  is  no  real  exiftence  •,  it  is  not  the  fame 
with  AN  Action,  but  is  a  meer  relation  :  it  is  the 
Aftivenefs  of  fomething  on  another  thing,  being 
the  oppoiite  relation  to  the  other,  viz.  a  relation 
of  power,  or  force,  exerted  by  fome  caufe,  to 
wards  another  thing,  which  is  the  fubjecl:  of  the 
effect  of  that  power.     Indeed,  the  word  Action  is 
frequently  ufed  to  fignify  fomething  not  meeriy 
relative,  but  more  abfolute,  and  a  real  exiftence  ; 
as  when  we  fay  an  Action ;  when  the  word  is  not 
ufed  tranfitively,  but  abiblutely,  for  fome  motion 
or  exercife  of  body  or  mind,  without  any  rela 
tion  to  any  object  or  effect :  and  as  ufed  thus, 
it  is  not  properly  the  oppofite  of  Pajffion  -,    which 
ordinarily  fignifies  nothing  abfolute,  but  meeriy 
the  relation  of  being  atted  upon.     And  therefore  if 
the  word  ARion  be  ufed  in  the  like  relative  fenfe,, 

2  then 


286  How  Ms  Arminian  Notion       Part  IV* 

then   A6Hon  and  Pafilon  are  only  two  contrary 
relations.     And  it  is  no  abfurdity  to  fuppofe,  that 
contrary  relations  may  belong  to  the  fame  thing, 
at  the  fame  time,  with  relpect  to  different  things. 
So  to  fuppofe,  that  there  are  ads  of  the  foul  by 
which  a  man  voluntarily  moves,  and  acts  upon 
objects,  and  produces  effects,  which  yet  them- 
felves  are  effects  of  fomething  elfe,  and  wherein 
the  foul  itfelf  is  the  object  of  fomething  acting 
upon,  and  influencing  that,  do  not  at  all    con 
found  Action  and  Paffion.   The  words  may  never- 
thelefs  be  properly  of  oppofite  fignification  :  there 
may  be  as  true  and  real  a  difference  between  aft- 
ing  and  being  caufed  to  aft,  though  we  ihould  fup 
pofe  the  foul  to  be  both  in  the  fame  volition,  as 
there  is  between  living  and  being  quickened,  or  made 
to  live.     It  is  no  more  a  contradiction,  to  fuppofe 
that  Action  may  be  the  effect  of  fome  other  caufe, 
befides  the  Agent,  or  Being  that  acts,  than  to 
fuppofe,  that  life  may  be  the  effect  of  fome  other 
caufe,  befides  the  Liver,  or  the  Being  that  lives, 
in  whom  life  is  caufed  to  be. 

The  thing  which  has  led  men  into  this  incon- 
fiftent  notion  of  Action,  when  applied  to  voli 
tion,  as  though  it  were  efTential  to  this  internal 
Action,  that  the  Agent  fhould  be  felt-determined 
in  it,  and  that  the  will  mould  be  the  caufe  of  it, 
was  probably  this ;  that  according  to  the  fenfe 
of  mankind,  and  the  common  ufe  of  language,  it 
is  fo,  with  refpect  to  men's  external   Actions  ; 
which  are  what  originally,  and  according  to  the 
vulgar  ufe  and  moil  proper  fenfe  of  the  word, 
are  called  ARions.    Men  in  thefe  are  felf-direfted, 
felf-determined,  and  their  wills  are  the  caufe  of 
the  motions  of  their  bodies,    and  the  external 
things  that  are  done  ;  fo  that  unlefs  men  do  them 
voluntarily,  and  of  choice,  and  the  Action  be 

deter ; 


Sect.  II.  probably  arofe.  287 

determined  by  their  antecedent  volition,  it  is  no 
Action  or  Doing  of  theirs.  Hence  fome  meta- 
phyficians  have  been  led  unwarily,  but  exceeding 
abfurdly,  to  fuppofe  the  fame  concerning  volition 
itfclf,  that  that  alfo  muft  be  determined  by  the 
will ;  which  is  to  be  determined  by  antecedent 
volition,  as  the  motion  of  the  body  is ;  not  con- 
fidering  the  contradiction  it  implies. 

But  it  is  very  evident,  that  in  the  metaphyfical 
diftinction  between  Action  and  PafTion  (though 
long  iince  become  common  and  the  general 
vogue)  due  care  has  not  been  taken  to  conform 
language  to  the  nature  of  things,  or  to  any  di- 
itinct  clear  ideas.  As  it  is  in  innumerable  other 
philofophical,  metaphyfical  terms,  uled  in  thefe 
difputes  ;  which  has  occafioned  inexpreflible  dif 
ficulty,  contention,  error  and  confuiion. 

And  thus  probably  it  came  to  be  thought,  that 
neceffity  was  inconfiftent  with  Action,  as  thefe 
terms  are  applied  to  volition.  Firft,  thefe  terms 
AEtion  and  Neceffity  are  changed  from  their  origi 
nal  meaning,  as  fignifying  external  voluntary  Ac 
tion  and  Conftraint,  (in  which  meaning  they  are 
evidently  inconfiftent)  to  iignify  quite  other 
things,  viz.  volition  itfelf,  and  certainty  of  ex- 
iftence.  And  when  the  change  of  fignification  is 
made,  care  is  not  taken  to  make  proper  allow 
ances  and  abatements  for  the  difference  of  fenfe ; 
but  ftill  the  fame  things  are  unwarily  attributed 
to  Action  and  Neceffity ^  in  the  new  meaning  of  the 
words,  which  plainly  belonged  to  them  in  their 
firft  fenfe  ;  and  on  this  ground,  maxims  are  efta- 
blifhed  without  any  real  foundation,  as  though 
they  were  the  moft  certain  truths,  and  the  molt 
evident  dictates  of  reafon. 


But 


288  Why  Calvinifm  is  fuppofed      Part  IV. 

But  however  flrenuoufly  it  is  maintained,  that 
what  is  neceflary  cannot  be  properly  called  Action, 
and  that  a  neceffary  A&ion  is  a  contradiction,  yet 
it  is  probable  there  are  few  Arminian  divines,  who, 
if  thoroughly  tried,  would  ftand  to  thefe  princi 
ples.  They  will  allow,  that  God  is,  in  the  higheft 
fenfe,  an  active  Being,  and  the  higheft  Fountain 
of  Life  and  Action  ;  and  they  would  not  proba 
bly  deny,  that  thofe,  that  are  called  God's  acts  of 
righteoufnefs,  holinefs  and  faithfulnefs,  are  truly 
and  properly  God's  a&s,  and  God  is  really  a  holy 
Agent  in  them ;  and  yet,  I  truft,  they  will  not; 
deny,  that  God  necerfarily  acts  juftly  and  faith 
fully,  and  that  it  is  impoffible  for  Him  to  act 
unrighteously  and  unholily. 


SECTION     III. 

T'be  Reafons  why  fome  think  it  contrary  to  common 
Senfe,  tofuppofe  tboje  Things  which  are  neceflary, 
to  be  worthy  of  either  Praile  or  Blame. 

IT  is  abundantly  affirmed  and  urged  by  Armi 
nian  writers,  that  it  is  contrary  to  common 
Senfe,  and  the  natural  notions  and  apprehenfions 
of  mankind,  to  fuppofe  otherwife  than  that  ne- 
ceffity  (making  no  diitindtion  between  natural 
and  moral  necefllty)  is  inconfiftent  with  Virtue 
and  Vice,  Praife  and  Blame,  Reward  and  Punifh- 
ment.  And  their  arguments  from  hence  have 
been  greatly  triumphed  in;  and  have-been  not  a 
little  perplexing  to  many,  who  have  been  friendly 
to  the  truth,  as  clearly  revealed  in  the  holy  Scrip 
tures  :  it  has  feemed  to  them  indeed  difficult,  to 
reconcile  Calvinijlic  doctrines  with  the  notions, 
men  commonly  have  of  juftice  and  equity.  And 

the 


Se<5h  III.     contrary  to  common  Scnfe.'  289 

the  true  reafons  of  it  feem  to  be  thefe  that  fol 
low* 

I.  Tt  is  indeed  a  Very  plain  dictate  of  common 
SenfeA  that  natural  neceffity  is  wholly  inconfi- 
ftent  with  juft  Praife  or  Blame.  If  men  do  things 
xvhich  in  themfelves  are  very  good,  fit  to  be 
brought  to  pafs,  and  very  happy  effects,  pro 
perly  againft  their  wills,  and  cannot  help  it ;  or 
do  them  from  a  necefilty  that  is  without  their 
wills,  or  with  which  their  wills  have  no  concern 
or  connection  *,  then  it  is  a  plain  dictate  of  com 
mon  fenfe,  that  it  is  none  of  their  virtue,  nor  any 
moral  good  in  them  \  and  that  they  are  not  wor 
thy  to  be  rewarded  or  praifed;  or  at  all  efteemed, 
honoured  or  loved  on  that  account.  And,  on  the 
other  hand,  that  if>  from  like  neceffity ,  they  do 
thofe  things  which  in  themfelves  are  very  uri* 
happy  and  pernicious,  and  do  them,  becaufe  the/ 
cannot  help  it-,  the  necefiity  is  fuch,  that  it  is  all 
one  whether  they  will  them,  or  no ;  a'nd  the  rea- 
fon  why  they  are  done,  is  from  necefiity  only, 
and  not  from  their  wills  ;  it  is  a  very  plain  dk> 
tate  of  common  Senfe,  that  they  are  not  at  all  to 
blame ;  there  is  no  vice,  fault,  or  moral  evil  at 
all  in  the  effect  done ;  nor  are  they,  who  are  thus 
neceffitated,  in  any  wife  worthy  to  be  punifhed, 
hated,  or  in  the  leail  clifrefpected,  on  that  ac 
count. 

In  like  manner,  if  things,  in  themfelves  good 
and  delirable,  are  abfolutely  impoffible,  with  a 
natural  impoflibility,  the  univerfal  reaibn  of  man 
kind  teaches,  that  this  zvbolly  andperfeftly  excufes 
perfons  in  their  not  doing  them. 

And  it  is  alfo  a  plain  dictate  of  common  Senle, 

that  if  the  doing  things,  in  themfelves  good,  or 

U  avoid- 


290  IFky  Calvinifm  Is  fuppofed        Part  IV, 

avoiding  things  in  themfelves  evil,  is  not  abfolutely 
lmpoJJwTe\  with  fuch  a  natural  impofiibility,  but 
very  difficult,  with  a  natural  difficulty  •,  that  is,  1J 
difficulty  prior  to,  and  not  at  all  confifling  in  will 
and  inclination  itfelf,  and  which  would  remain 
the  fame,  let  the  inclination  be  what  it  will ;  then 
a  perfon's  neglect  or  omifTion  is  excufed  inform 
meafurei  though  not  wholly  ;  his  fin  is  lefs  ag 
gravated,  than  if  the  thing  to  be  done  were  eafy. 
And  if  inftead  of  difficulty  and  hinderance,  there 
be  a  contrary  natural  propenfity  in  the  (late  of 
things,  to  the  thing  to  be  done,  or  effect  to  be 
brought  to  pafs,  abftracted  from  any  confedera 
tion  of  the  inclination  of  the  heart  •,  though  the 
propenfity  be  not  fo  great  as  to  amount  to  a  na 
tural  neceflity  ;  yet  being  fome  approach  to  it, 
fo  that  the  doing  the  good  thing  be  very  much 
from  this  natural  tendency  in  the  date  of  things, 
and  but  little  from  a  good  inclination ;  then  it  is 
a  dictate  of  common  Senfe,  that  there  is  fo  much 
the  lefs  virtue  in  what  is  done  ;  and  fo  it  is  lefs 
praife-worthy  and  rewardable.  The  reafon  is  eafy, 
viz.  becaufe  fuch  a  natural  propenfity  or  ten 
dency  is  an  approach  to  natural  neceflity ;  and 
the  greater  the  propenfity,  fti'll  fo  much  the  nearer 
is  the  approach  to  neceflity.  And,  therefore,  as 
natural  neceflity  takes  away  or  Ihuts  out  all  vir 
tue,  fo  this  propenfity  approaches  to  an  abo 
lition  of  virtue  ;  that  is,  it  diminifoes  it.  And, 
on  the  other  hand,  natural  difficulty,  in  the  ftate 
of  things,  is  an  approach  to  natural  impoflibility. 
And  as  the  latter,  when  it  is  complete  and  abfo- 
lute,  wholly  takes  away  Blame  ;  fo  fuch  difficulty 
rfakes  away  fome  Blame,  or  diminifhes  Bfame  ;  and 
makes  the  thing  done  to  be  lefs  worthy  of  pu- 
nifhment. 

II.  Men 


i 


Sect.  III.     contrary  to  corhmori  Senfe.  291 

II.  Men,  in  their  firft  life  of  fuch  phrafes  as 
thefe,  mitft,  can't,  can't  help  it,  can't  avoid  it,  ne~ 
ceffary,  unable,  impqjfibk,  unavoidable,  irrejiftible,  &c. 
wle  them  to  fignify  a  neceflky  of  conilraint  or 
reftraint,  a  natural  necetfity  or  impoffibility ;  or 
fome  neceflity  that  the  will  has  nothing  to  do  in  ; 
which  may  be,  whether  men  will  or  no  ;  and 
which  may  be  fuppofed  to  be  juft  the  fame^  let 
men's  inclinations  and  defires  be  what  they  will. 
Such  kind  of  terms  in  their  original  ufe,  I  fup- 
pole,  among  all  nations,  are  relative ;  carrying  in 
their  fignification  fas  was  before  obferved)  a  re- 
ierence  or  refpect  to  fome  contrary  will,  defire 
or .  endeavour,  which,  it  is  fuppofed,  is,  or  may 
be,  in  the  cafe.  All  men  find,  and  begin  to  find 
.in  early  childhood,  that  there  are  innumerable 
things  that  cannot  be  done.,  which  they  defire  to 
4o :  and  innumerable  things,  which  they  are  averfe 
to,  that  muft  be,  they  cannot  avoid  them,  they 
will  be^  whether  they  chufe  them  or  no.  It  is  to 
exprefs  this  necefiity,  which  men  fo  foon  and  fo 
often  find,  and  which  fo  greatly  and  early  affects 
them  in  innumerable  cafes,  that  fuch  terms  and 
phrafes  are  firft  formed  ;  and  it  is  to  fignify  fucii 
a  neceffity,  that  they  are  firft  ufed,  and  that  they 
are  molt  conftantly  ufed,  in  the  common  affairs 
of  life  ;  and  not  to  fignify  any  fuch  metaphy- 
ficalj  fpeculative  and  abftract  notion,  as  that 
connection  in  the  nature  or  courfe  of  things, 
which  is  between  the  fubject  and  predicate  of  a 
proportion,  and  which  is  the  foundation  of  the 
certain  truth  of  that  propofition;  to  fignify  which, 
they  who  employ  themfelves  in  philofophical 
inquiries  into  the  firil  origin  and  metaphyfical 
relations  and  dependences  of  things,  have  bor 
rowed  thele  terms,  for  want  of  others.  But 
we  grow  up  from  our  cradles  in  a  ufe  of  fuch 
terms  and  phrafes  entirely  different  from  this, 

U  2  and 


292  Why  Calvinifm  Is  fuppofed       Part  IV. 

and  carrying  a  fenfe  exceeding  diverfe  from  that, 
in  which  they  are  commonly  ufed  in  the  contro- 
verfy  between  Arminiam  and  Cafoinifts.  And  it 
being,  as  was  faid  before,  a  dictate  of  the  univer- 
fal  fenfe  of  mankind,  evident  to  us  as  foon  as  we 
begin  to  think,  that  the  neceflity  fignified  by  thefe 
terms,  in  the  fenfe  in  which,  we  firft  learn  them, 
does  excufe  perfcns,  and  free  them  from  all  Fault 
or  Blame ;  hence  our  ideas  of  excufablenefs  or 
faultlefihefs  is  tied  to  thefe  terms  and  phrafes  by 
a  ftrong  habit,  which  is  begun  in  childhood,  as 
foon  as  we  begin  to  fpeak,  and  grows  up  with  us, 
and  is  ftrengthened  by  conflant  ufe  and  cuftom, 
the  connection  growing  ftronger  and  ftronger. 

The  habitual  connection,  which  is  in  men's 
minds  between  Blameleflhefs  and  thofe  foremen- 
tioned  terms,  muft?  cannot?  unable,  neceffary?  im- 
pqffibley  unavoidable?  &c.  becomes  very  ftrong ; 
becaufe,  as  foon  as  ever  men  begin  to  ufe  reafon 
and  fpeech,  they  have  occaiion  to  excufe  them- 
felves,  from  the  natural  neceflity  fignified  by  thefe 
terms,  in  numerous  instances. — /  can't  do  it — / 
could  not  help  it. — -And  all  mankind  have  conftant 
and  daily  occaiion  to  ufe  fuch  phrafes  in  this  fenfe, 
to  excufe  themfelves  and  others,  in  almoft  all  the 
concerns  of  life,  with  refpect  to  difappointments, 
and  things  that 'happen,  which  concern  and  affect 
ourfelves  and  others,  that  are  hurtful,  or  difagre* 
able  to  us  or  them,  or  things  defirable,  that  we  or 
others  fail  of. 

That  a  being  accuflomed  to  an  union  of  diffe 
rent  ideas,  from  early  childhood,  makes  the  ha- 
bituafrconnection  exceeding  ftrong,  as  though  fuch 
connection  were  owing  to  nature?  is  manifeffc  in 
innumerable  inftances.  It  is  altogether  by  fuch 
an  habitual  connection  of  ideas,  that  men  judge 

of 


Sect.  III.     contrary  to  common  Senfe.  293 

of  the  bignefs  or  diftancc  of  the  objects  of  fight, 
from  their  appearance.  Thus  it  is  owing  to  inch 
a  connexion  early  eftablilhed,  and  growing  up 
with  a  perfon,  that  he  judges  a  mountain,  which 
he  fees  at  ten  miles  diliance,  to  be  bigger  than  his 
nofe,  or  further  off  than  the  end  of  it.  Having 
been  ufed  fo  long  to  join  a  confiderable  diftance 
and  magnitude  with  fuch  an  appearance,  men 
imagine  it  is  by  a  dictate  of  natural  fenfe  : 
whereas,  it  would  be  quite  otherwife  with  one 
that  had  his  eyes  newly  opened,  who  had  been 
born  blind :  he  would  have  the  fame  vifible  ap 
pearance,  but  natural  fenfe  would  dictate  no  fuch 
thing,  concerning  the  magnitude  or  diflance  of 
what  appeared. 

III.  When  men,  after  they  had  been  fo  habi 
tuated  to  connect  ideas  of  Innocency  or  BlamelefP 
nefs  with  fuch  terms,  that  the  union  feems  to  be 
the  effect  of  meer  nature,  come  to  hear  the  lame 
terms  ufed,  and  learn  to  ufe  them  themfelves  in 
the  forementioned  new  and  metaphyfical  fenfe,  to 
fignify  quite  another  fort  of  neceflity,  which  has 
no  fuch  kind  of  relation  to  a  contrary  fuppofable 
will  and  endeavour  ;  the  notion  of  plain  and  ma- 
nifeft  Blameleffnefs,by  this  means,  is,  by  a  ftrong 
prejudice,  infenfibly  and  unwarily  transferred  to 
a  cafe  to  wrhich  it  by  no  means  belongs  :  the 
change  of  the  ufe  of  the  terms,  to  a  iignification 
which  is  very  diverfe,  not  being  taken  notice  of, 
or  adverted  to.  And  there  are  feveral  reafons, 
why  it  is  not, 

I,  The  terms,  as  ufed  by  philofophers,  are 
not  very  difttnct  and  clear  in  their  meaning/:  few 
ufe  them  in  a  fixed  determined  fepfev-'  On  the 
contrary,  their  meaning  is  very  vague  and  con- 
fufed.  Which  is  what  commonly  happens  to  the 
U  words 


294  Why  Galvinifm  is  fuppojed       Part  IV. 

words  ufed  to  fignify  things  intellectual  and 
moral,  and  to  exprefs  what  Mr.  Locke  calls  mixt 
modes.  If  men  had  a  clear  and  diftindt  under- 
ftanding  of  what  is  intended  by  thefe  metaphy- 
fical  terms,  they  would  be. able  more  eafily  to 
compare  them  with  thejr  original  and  common 
Senfe  ;  and  fo  would  not  be  fo  eafily  led  into  de- 
lufion  by  no  fort  of  terms  in  the  world,  as  by 
words  of  this  fort. 

2.  The  change  of  the  fignification  of  the  terms 
is  the  more  infenfible,  becaufe  the  things  figni- 
fied,  though  indeed  very  different,  yet  do  in  lome 
generals  agree.  In  necejfity,  that  which  is  vulgarly 
fb  called,  there  is  a  flrong  connection  between  the 
thing  faid  to  be  neceflary,  and  fomething  ante 
cedent  to  it,  in  the  order  of  nature ;  fo  there  is 
alfo  in  philofopbical  necejjity.  And  though  in  both 
kinds  of  neceflity,  the  connection  cannot  be  called 
by  that  name,  with  relation  to  an  oppofite  will 
or  endeavour,  to  which  it  is  fuperior  j  which  is 
the  cafe  in  vulgar  neceflity  ;  yet  in  both,  the 
connection  is  prior  to  will  and  endeavour,  and 
fo,  in  fome  refpect,  fuperior.  In  both  kinds  of 
neceflity,  there  is  a  foundation  for  fome  certainty 
of  the  proportion,  that  affirms  the  event. — The 
terms  ufed  being  the  fame,  and  the  things  fig- 
aiified  agreeing  in  thefe  and  fome  other  general 
circumstances,  and  the  expreflions  as  ufed  by 
philofophers  being  not  well  defined,  and  fo  of  ob- 
fcure  and  looie  fignification  •,  hence  perfons  are 
not  aware  of  the  great  difference ;  had  the  no 
tions  of  innocence  or  faultinefs,  which  were  fo 
ftrongly  aflbciated  with  them,  and  were  ftrictly 
united  in  their  minds,  ever  fmce  they  can  rememr 
ber,  remain-  united  with  them  {till,  as  if  the  union 
altogether  Datura!  and  neceflary  -,  and  they 

.that; 


Sect.  III.      contrary  to  common  Senfe.  295 

that  go  about  to  make  a  reparation,  feem  to  them 
to  do  great  violence  even  to  nature  itfelf. 

IV.  Another  reafon  why  it  appears  difficult  to 
reconcile  it  with   reafon,    that   men  Ihould  be 
blamed  for  that  which  is  neceflary  with  a  moral 
necefluy  (which,  as  was  obferved  before,  is  a  fpe- 
cies  of  philofophical  neceffity)  is,  that  for  want  of 
due  confideration,  men  inwardly  entertain  that 
apprehenfion,  that  this  neceflity  may  be  againft 
men's  wills  and  fmcere  endeavours.  They  go  away 
with  that  notion,  that  men  may  truly  will,  and 
\vifh  and  flrive   that  it  may   be  otherwiie ;  but 
that  invincible  neceflity  Hands  in  the  way.     And 
many  think  thus  concerning  themfelves  :  fome, 
that  are  wicked  men,  think  they  wifh,  that  they 
were  good,  that  they  loved  God  and  holinefs :  but 
yet  do  not  find  that  their  wifhes  produce  the  ef 
fect.- — The  reafons,  why  men  think,  are  as  follow : 
(i.)  They  find  what  may  be  called  an  IndireS  wil- 
llngnefs  to  have  a  better  will,  in  the  manner  before 
obferved.  For  it  is  impoffible,  and  a  contradiction 
to  fuppofe  the  will  to  be  directly  and  properly 
againft  itfelf.  And  they  do  not  confider,  that  this 
indirect  willingnefs  is  entirely  a  different  thing 
from  properly  willing  the  thing  that  is  the  duty 
and  virtue  required  j  and  that  there  is  no  virtue 
in  that  fort  of  willingnefs  which  they  have.  They 
do  not  confider,  that  the  volitions,  which  a  wicked 
man  may  have  that  he  loved  God,  are  no  acts  of 
the  will  at  all  againft  the  moral  evil  of  not  loving 
God ;  but  only  fome  difagreable  confequences. 
But  the  making  the  requifite  diftinction  requires 
more  care  of  reflection  and  thought,  than  moft 
men  are  ufed  to.    And  men,  through  a  prejudice  in 
their  own  favour,  are  difpofed  to  think  well  of  their 
own  defires  and  difpolitions,  and  to  account  them 
good  and  virtuous,  though  their  refpect  to  vir- 
U  4  tiu 


296  Why  Calvinifm  Is  fuppofed       Part  IV, 

tue  be  only  indirefl  and  remote,  and  it  is  nothing 
at  all  that  is  virtuous  that  truly  excites  or  ter 
minates  their  inclinations.  (2.)  Another  thing, 
that  infenfibly  leads  and  beguiles  men  into  a  fup- 
pofition  that  this  rnoral  necefiity  or  impofiibility 
is,  or  may  be,  againfl  men's  wills  and  true  en 
deavours,  is  the  derivation  and  formation  of  the 
terms  themfelves,  that  are  often  ufed  to  exprefs 
it,  which  is  fuch  as  feems  directly  to  point  to, 
and  holds  this  forth,  Such  words,  for  inftance,  as 
unable,  unavoidable,  imppj/ible,  irrefiftible  •,  which 
carry  a  plain  reference  to  a  fuppoiable  power  ex 
erted,  endeavours  ufed,  refiftance  made,  in  op- 
pofuion  to  the  neceffity  :  and  the  perfons  that 
hear  them,  not  confidering  nor  fufpe&ing,  but  that 
they  are  ufed  in  their  proper  fenfe  :  that  fenfe 
being  therefore  understood,  there  does  naturally, 
and  as  it  were  neceflarily  arife  in  their  minds  a 
fuppofition,  that  it  may  be  fo  indeed,  that  true 
deiires  and  endeavours  may  take  place,  but  that 
invincible  necefiity  itands  in  the  way,  and  renders 
them  vain  and  to  no  effedt, 

V.  Another  thing,  which  maizes  perfons  more 
ready  to  fuppofe  it  to  be  contrary  to  reafon,  that 
men  mould  be  expofed  to  the  punilhments  threa 
tened  to  fin,  for  doing  thofe  things  which  are 
morally  neceflary,  or  not  doing  thofe  things  mo 
rally  impoftiblej  is,  that  imagination  Strengthens 
the  argument,  and  adds  greatly  to  the  power  and 
influence  of  the  feeming  reafons  againft  it,  from 
the  greatnefs  of  that  punimment.  To  allow  that 
they  may  be  juftly  expofed  to  a  fmall  punimment, 
would  not  be  fo  difficult.  Whereas,  if  there  were 
any  good  reafon  in  the  cafe,  if  it  were  truly  a 
di&ate  of  reafon,  that  fuch  nece/Tity  was  incon- 
fident  with  faultinefs,  or  juft  punilhment,  the 
dcmdnftration  would  be  equally  certain  with  re- 

fpecl: 


Sec"h  IV.     contrary  to  common  Senfe.  297 

fpeft  to  a  fmall  punifhment,  or  any  punifhment 
at  all,  as  a  very  great  one :  but  it  is  not  equally 
eafy  to  the  imagination.  They  that  argue  againft 
the  juflice  of  damning  men  for  thofe  things  that 
are  thus  necefTary,  feem  to  make  their  argument 
the  ftronger,  by  fetting  forth  the  greatnefs  of  the 
punimment  in  ftrong  expreflions : — That  a  man 
jbtftld  be  caft  into  eternal  burnings,  that  hejhould  be 
made  to  fry  in  hell  to  all  eternity  for  thofe  things  which 
he  had  no  power  to  avoid,  and  was  under  a  fatal,  un- 
frujlrable,  invincible  necejfity  of  doing, 


SECTION     IV. 


It  is  agrealle  to  common  Senfe,  and  the  natural 
Notions  of  Mankind,  to  fuppofe  moral  Necejjity 
to  be  confident  with  Praife  and  Blame^  Reward 
and  Punifhment. 

WHETHER,  the  reafons,  that  have  been 
given,  why  it  appears  difficult  to  fome 
perfons,  to  reconcile  with  common  Senfe  the 
prailing  or  blaming,  rewarding  or  punifhing  thole 
things  which  are  morally  necefTary,  are  thought 
fatisfactory,  or  not-;  yet  it  moil  evidently  appears, 
by  the  following  things,  that  if  this  matter  be 
rightly  underftood,  fetting  alide  all  delufion  arif- 
ing  from  the  impropriety  and  ambiguity  of 
terms,  this  is  not  at  all  inconfiftent  with  the  na 
tural  apprehenlions  of  mankind,  and  that  ienfe 
of  things  which  is  found  every  where  in  the  com 
mon  people;  who  are  furtheft  from  having  their 
thoughts  perverted  from  their  natural  channel, 
by  metaphyfical  and  philofophical  fubtilties  ;  but, 
on  the  contrary,  altogether  agreable  to,  and  the 

very 


298  Nece/ary  Virtue  y  &c.          Part  IV. 

very  voice  and  dictate  of  this  natural  and  vulgar 
Senfc. 

I.  This  will  appear,  if  we  confider  what  the  vul 
gar  Notion  of  blame-worthinefs  is.  The  idea,  which 
the  common  people,,  through  all  ages  and  nati 
ons,  have  of  -faultinefs,  I  fuppofe  to  be  plainly 
this ;  a  perfon's  being  or  doing  wrong,  with  bis  own 
will  and  pleafure ;  containing  thefe  two  things ; 
i .  His  doing  wrong,  when  he  does  (is  he  pleafes.  2. 
His  pleafures  "being  wrong.  Or,  in  other  words, 
perhaps  more  intelligibly  exprefling  their  Notion^ 
a  performs  having  his  heart  wrong,  and  doing  wrong 
from  his  heart.  And  this  is  the  fum  total  of  the 
matter. 

The  common  people  do  not  afcend  up  in  their 
reflections  and  abftractions  to  the  metaphyfical 
fources,  relations  and  dependencies  of  things, 
in  order  to  form  their  Notion  of  faultinefs  or 
blame-worthinefs.  They  do  not  wait  till  they 
have  decided  by  their  refinings,  what  firft  deter 
mines  the  will  •,  whether  it  be  determined  by  fome- 
thing  extrinfic,  or  intrinfic ;  whether  volition  de-» 
termines  volition,  or  whether  the  underfland- 
ing  determines  the  will ;  whether  there  be 
any  fuch  thing  as  metaphyficians  mean  by  contin- 
gence  (if  they  have  any  meaning  •„)  whether  there 
be  a  fort  of  a  itrange  unaccountable  fovere.  ignty  in 
the  will,  in  the  exercife  of  which,  by  its  own  fo- 
vereign  acts,  it  brings  to  pafs  all  its  own  fovereign 
acts.  They  do  not  take  any  part  of  their  Notion 
of  fault  or  blame  from  the  reiolution  of  any  fuch 
queilions.  If  this  were  the  cafe,  there  are  mul 
titudes,  yea  the  far  greater  part  of,  mankind,  nine 
hundred  and  ninety-nine  out  of  a  thoufand, 
would  live  and  die,  without  having  any  fuch  No- 
tion.,  as  that  of  fault,  ever  entering  into  their 

heads,, 


Sect.  IV.     agreable-to  common  Senfe.  299 

heads,  or  without  fo  much  as  one  having  any  con 
ception  that  any  body  was  to  be  either  blamed 
or  commended  for  any  thing.  To  be-  fare,  it 
would  be  a  long  time  before  men  came  to  have 
fuch  Notions.  Whereas  it  is  mamfeft,  they  are 
fome  of  the  firft  Notions  that  appear  in  children ; 
who  difcover,  as  loon  as  they  can  think,  orfpeak, 
or  act  at  all  as  rational  creatures,  a  Senfe  of  defert. 
And,  certainly,  in  forming  their  Notion  of  it,  they 
^make  no  ufe  of  metaphyficks.  All  the  ground 
they  go  upon,  confifts  in  thefe  two  things ;  ex 
perience  >  and  a  natural  fenfation  of  a  certain  fit- 
nefs  or  agreablenefs,  which  there  is  in  uniting  fuch 
moral  evil  as  is  above  defcribed,  viz.  a  being  or 
doivg  wrong  with  the  will,  and  refentment  in 
others,  and  pain  inflifted  on  the  perfon  in  whom 
this  moral  evil  is.  Which  natural  Senfe  is  what 
we  call  by  the  name  of  confdence. 
-''&  -:b  gnbd  Iffv/  3f;it  i'^r'n-  i:  :.o  •?•••;•  ;>rrnM 
It  is  true,  the  common  people  and  children,' 
in  their  Notion  of  any  faulty  act  or  deed,  of  any 
perfon,  do  fuppofe  that  it  is  the  perfon's  own  aft 
(induced.  But  this  is  all  that  belongs,  to  what 
they  underiland  by  a  thing's  being  a  perfon's 
own  deed  or-  atlkn  \  even  that  it  is  fomething  done 
by  him  of  choice.  That  fome  exerciie  or  mo 
tion  ihould  begin  of  itfelf,  does  not  belong  to 
their  Notion  of  an-  aftion,  or  doing.  If  ib,  it 
would  belong  to  their  Notion  of  it,  that  it  is 
fomething,  which  is  the  caufe  of  its  own  begin 
ning  ;  and  that  is  as  much  as  to  fay,  that  it  is 
before  it  begins  to  be.  Nor  is  their  Notion  of  an 
aftion  fome  motion  or  exercifc,  that  begins  acci 
dentally,  without  any  caufe  orreafon,  for  that 
is  contrary  to  one  of  the  prime  dictates  of  com* 
mon  Senfe,  namely,  that  every  thing  that  begins 
fp  be,  has  fome  caufe  or  reaibn  why  it  is. 

The 


300  Nece/ary  Virtue^  &c.  Part  IV. 

The  common  people,  in  their  Notion  of  a 
faulty  or  praife-worthy  deed  or  work  done  by 
any  one,  do  ftippofe,  that  the  man  does  it  in  the 
exercife  of  liberty.  But  then  their  Notion  of 
liberty  is  only  a  perfon's  having  opportunity  of 
doing  as  he  pleafes.  They  have  no  Notion  of 
liberty  confifling  in  the  will's  firft  ading,  and 
fo  caufing  its  own  ads  -9  and  determining,  and 
fo  caufing  its  own  determinations ;  or  chufing, 
and  fo  caufing  its  own  choice.  Such  a  Notion 
of  liberty  is  what  none  have,  but  thofe  that  have 
darkened  their  own  minds  with  confuftrd  meta- 
phyfical  fpeculation,  and  abftrufe  and  ambigu 
ous  terms.  If  a  man  is  not  retrained  from  act 
ing  as  his  will  determines,  or  conltrained  to  aft 
otherwife-,  then  he  has  liberty,  according  to  com 
mon  Notions  of  liberty,  without  taking  into 
the  idea  that  grand  contradiction  of  all,  the  de 
terminations  of  a  man's  free  will  being  the  ef- 
feds  of  the  determinations  of  his  free  will.— 
Nor  have  men  commonly  any  Notion  of  freedom 
confiding  in  indifference.  For  if  fo,  then  it  would 
be  agreable  to  their  Notion,  that  the  greater  in 
difference  men  adt  with,  the  more  freedom  they 
ad  with ;  whereas,  the  reverfe  is  true.  He  that 
in  ading,  proceeds  with  the  fulleft  inclination, 
docs  what  he  does  with  the  greateft  freedom, 
according  to  common  Senfe.  And  fo  far  is  it 
from  being  agreable  to  common  Senfe,  that  fuch 
liberty  as  confifts  in  indifference  is  requifite  to 
praife  or  blame,  that,  on  the  contrary,  the  dictate 
of  every  man's  natural  fenfe  through  the  world 
i-S  that  the  further  he  is  from  being  indifferent  in 
his  ading  good  or  evil,  and  the  more  he  does 
cither  with  full  and  ftrong  inclination,  the  more 
is  he  efteemed  or  abhorred,  commended  or  con* 
demned. 

II.  If 


Sect  IV,       agreallt  to  common  Senfe.  301 

II.  If  it  were  inconfiftent  with  the  common 
Senfe  of  mankind,  that  men  mould  be  either  to 
be  blamed  or  commended  in  any  volitions,  they 
have,  or  fail  of,  in  cafe  of  moral  neceflity  or  im 
poflibility  ;  then  it  would  furely  alfo  be  agreable 
to  the  fame  Senfe  and  reafon  of  Mankind,  that 
the  nearer  the  cafe  approaches  to  fuch  a  moral 
neceflity  or  impoflibility,  either  through  a  ftrong 
antecedent  moral  propenfity,  on  the  one  hand,  * 
or  a  great  antecedent  oppofition  and  difficulty,  on 
the  other,  the  nearer  does  it  approach  to  a  being 
neither  blameable  nor  commendable  ;  fo  that  acts 
exerted  with  fuch  preceding  propenfity,  would  be 
worthy  of  proportionably  lefs  praife  •,  and  when 
omitted,  the  act  being  attended  with  fuch  diffi 
culty,  the  omiflion  would  be  worthy  of  the  lefs 
blame.     It  is  fo,  as  was  obferved  before,  with 
natural  neceflity  and  impofiibility,  propenfity  and 
difficulty:  as  it  is  a  plain  dictate  of  the  fenfe  of 
all  Mankind,  that  natural   neceflity  and  impofli- 
bility  take  away  all  blame  and  praife;  and  there 
fore,  that  the  nearer   the   approach   is   to  thefe, 
through    previous    propenfity    or  difficulty,    fo 
praife  and  blame  are  proportionably  diminijhed. 
And  if  it  were  as  much  a  dictate  of  common 
Senfe,  that  moral  neceflity  of  doing,  or  impofii 
bility  of    avoiding,  takes    away   all  praife   and 
blame,  as  that  natural   neceflity  or  impofiibility 
does  this;  then,   by  a  perfect  parity  of  reafon, 
it  would   be  as  much  the  dictate  of    common 
Senfe,  that  an  approach  to  moral  neceflity  of  do 
ing,  or  impoflibility  of  avoiding,  diminffies  praife 
and  blame,  as  that  an  approach  to  natural   ne 
ceflity  and  impoflibility  does  fo.     It  is  equally  the 
voice  of  common  Senfe,  that  perfons  are  excufable 

*  It  is  here  argued,  on  fuppofition  that  not  all  propenfity 
implies  moral  necefiity,  but  only  feme  very  high  degree ; 
which  hone  will  deny. 

i  in 


.302  Nece/ary  Virtue,  &c.  Part  IV. 

•in  part,  in  neglecting  things  difficult  againft  their 
wills,  as  that  they  are  excufable .wholly  in  negledi- 
ing  things  impofiible  againft  their  wills.  And 
if  it  made  no  difference,  whether  the  impofTibi- 
lity  were  natural  and  againft  the  will,  or  moral, 
lying  in  the  will,  with  regard  to  excufablenefs  *• 
ib  neither  would  it  make  any  difference,  whether 
the  difficulty,  or  approach  to  neceffity  be  natural 
againft  the  will,  Or  moral,  lying  in  the  propenfity 
<of  the  will. 

But  it  is  apparent,  that  the  reverfe  of  thefe 
.things  is  true.     If  there  be  an  approach  to   a 
moral  neceffity  in   a  man's  exertion  of  good  adts 
of  will,  they  being  the  exercife  of  a  ftrong  pro 
penfity  to  good,  and  a  very   powerful  love  to 
virtue  ;  it  is  ib  far  from  being  the  dictate  of  com* 
nion  Senfe,  that  he  is  lefs  virtuous,  and  the  lefs 
to  be  efteemed,  loved  and  praifed  ;  that  it  is  agre* 
able  to  the  natural  Notions  of  all  mankind,  that 
•he  is  fo  much  the  better  man,  worthy  of  greater 
rcfpect,   and    higher   commendation.      And  the 
jftronger  the  inclination  is,  and  the  nearer  it  ap* 
preaches' ,  to  neceffity  in  that  refpect  •,  or  to  im* 
poffibility  of  neglecting  the  virtuous  adt,  or  of 
doing  a  vicious  one ;  ftill  the  more  virtuous,  and 
worthy  of  higher  commendation.     And,  on  the 
other  hand,  if  a  man  exerts  evil  acts  of  mind  $ 
as,  for  inilance,  adts  of  pride  or  malice  from  a 
rooted   and  ftrong  habit  or  principle  of  haughti- 
nefs  and  malicioufnefs,   and  a  violent  propenfity 
of  heart  to  fnch   acts ;  according  to  the   natural 
Senfe  of  men,   he  is   ib  far  from   being  the  lefs 
hateful  and  blameable  on  that  account,  that  he  is 
Ib  much  the  more  worthy  no  be  detefted  and  con* 
demned,  by  all  that  obferve  him,. 

Mo-re- 


Sect.  IV.       agr cable  to  common  Senfei  303 

Moreover,  it  is  manifeft  that  it  is  no  part  of 
the  Notion,  which  mankind  commonly  have  of  a 
blameable  or  praife-worthy  act  of  the  will,  that 
it  is  an  act  which  is  not  determined  by  an  antece 
dent  bias  or  motive,  but  by 'the  fovereign  power 
of  the  will  itfelf ;  becaufe,  if  fo,  the  greater 
hand  fuch  caufes  have  in  determining  any  acts  of 
the  will,  fo  much  the  lefs  virtuous  or  vicious 
would  they  be  accounted  •,  and  the  lefs  hand,  the 
more  virtuous  or  vicious.  Whereas,  the  reverie 
is  true :  men  do  not  think  a  good  act  to  be  the 
lefs  praife:worthy,  for  the  agent's  being  much 
determined  in  it  by  a  good  inclination  or  a  good 
motive,  but  the  more.  And  if  good  inclination 
or  motive,  has  but  little  influence  in  determining 
the  agent,  they  do  not  think  his  act  fo  much  the 
more  virtuous,  but  the  lefs.  And  fo  concerning 
evil  acts, 'which  are  determined  by  evil  motives 

or  inclinations. 

.'iioitojs  z  nsnt  to  rnb;j  b:is 

Yea,  if  it  be  fuppofed,  that  good  or  evil  difpo- 
fitions  are  implanted  in  the  hearts  of  men,  by 
nature  itfelf  (which,  it  is  certain,  is  vulgarly 
fuppofed  in  innumerable  cafes)  yet  it  is  not  com 
monly  fuppofed,  that  men  are  worthy  of  no  praife 
or  difpraife  for  fuch  difpofitions ;  although  what 
is  natural,  is  undoubtedly  necefTary,  nature  be 
ing  prior  to  all  acts  of  the  will  whatfoever. 
Thus,  for  inftance,  if  a  man  appears  to  be  of  a 
very  haughty  or  malicious  difpoiition,  and  is  fup 
pofed  to  be  fo  by  his  natural  temper,  it  is  no 
vulgar  Notion,  no  dictate  of  the  common  Senfe 
and  apprehenfion  of  men,  that  fuch  dilpofitions 
are  no  vices  or  moral  evils,  or  that  fuch  perfons 
are  not  worthy  of  difefteem,  or  odium  and  dlf- 
hono'ur ;  or  that  the  proud  or  malicious  acts  which 
flow  from  fuch  natural  difpofitions,  are  worthy  of 
no  rcfentment.  Yea,  fuch  vile  natural  difpofitions, 

and 


304  Neceffary  Virtue  ^  &c.  Part  IV. 

and  the  flrength  of  them,  will  commonly  be  men 
tioned  rather  as  an  aggravation  of  the  wicked 
acts,  that  come  from  fuch  a  fountain,  than  an 
extenuation  of  them.  Its  being  natural  for  men 
to  aft  thus,  is  often  obferved  by  men  in  the 
height  of  their  indignation  :  they  will  fay,  "  It 
"  is  his  very  nature  :  he  is  of  a  vile  natural  tem- 
"  per  •,  it  is  as  natural  to  him  to  act  fo,  as  it  is 
"  to  breathe ;  he  cannot  help  ferving  the  devil, 
"  &c"  But  it  is  not  thus  with  regard  to  hurt 
ful  mifchievous  things,  that  any  are  the  fubjects 
or  occafions  of,  by  natural  neceffity,  againil  their 
inclinations.  In  fuch  a  cafe,  the  neceility,  by 
the  common  voice  of  mankind,  will  be  fpoken 

of  as  a  full  excufe. Thus  it  is  very  plain,  that 

common  Senfc  makes  a  vaft  "difference  between 
thefe  two  kinds  of  necefiity,  as  to  the  judgment 
it  makes  of  their  influence  on  the  moral  quality 
and  defert  of  men's  actions. 

And  thefe  dictates  of  men's  minds  are  fo  na 
tural  and  necelTary,  that  it  may  be  very  much 
doubted  whether  the  Arminians  themfelves  have 
ever  got  rid  of  them  ;  yea,  their  greateft  doctors, 
that  have  gone  furtheft  in  defence  of  their  meta- 
phyfical  Notions  of  liberty,  and  have  brought 
their  arguments  to  their  greateit  ftrength,  and, 
as  they  iuppofe,  to  a  demonftration,  againfl  the 
confidence  of  virtue  and  vice  with  any  necefli 
ty  :  it  is  to  be  queftioned,  whether  there  is  fo 
much  as  one  of  them,  but  that,  if  he  fuffered 
very  much  from  the  injurious  ads  of  a  man, 
under  the  power  of  an  invincible  haughtinefs  and 
malignancy  of  temper,  would  not,  from  the 
forementioned  natural  fenfe  of  mind,  refent  it  far 
other  wife,  than  if  as  great  fufferings  came  upon 
him  from  the  wind  that  blows,  and  fire  that 
burns  by  natural  necdfity  j  and  othervvife  than  he 

would, 


Sec~l.  IV.      agr table  to  common  Senfe.  305 

would,  if  he  fuffered  as  much  from  the  conduct 
of  a  man  perfectly  delirious;  yea,  though  he 
firft  brought  his  diftradlion  upon  him  ibme  way 
by  his  own  fault. 

Some  feem  to  difdain  the  diftindtion  that  we 
make  between  natural  and  moral  neceffity,  as  though 
it  were  altogether  impertinent  in  this  controverfy  : 
"  that  which  is  necefTary  (fay  they)  is  necefiary ; 
^c  it  is  that  which  muft  be,  and  cannot  be  prc- 
"  vented.  And  that  which  is  impoffible,  is  im- 
"  poflible,  and  cannot  be  done :  and,  therefore, 
<c  none  can  be  to  blame  for  not  doing  it."  And 
fuch  comparifons  are  made  ufe  of,  as  the  com 
manding  of  a  man  to  walk,  who  has  loft  his  legs, 
and  condemning  and  punifhing  him  for  not  obey 
ing  ;  inviting  and  calling  upon  a  man,  who  is  Ihut 
up  in  a  flrong  prifon,  to  come  forth,  &c.  But, 
in  thefe  things,  Armlmans  are  very  unreafonable. 
Let  common  Senfe  determine  whether  there  be 
not  a  great  difference  between  thofe  two  cafes ; 
the  one,  that  of  a  man  who  has  offended  his 
Prince,  and  is  caft  into  prifon  ;  and  after  he  has 
lain  there  a  while,  the  King  comes  to  him,  calls 
him  to  come  forth  to  him  ;  and  tells  him,  that  if 
lie  will  do  fo,  and  will  fall  down  before  him  and 
humbly  beg  his  pardon,  he  mail  be  forgiven,  and 
fet  at  liberty,  and  alfo  be  greatly  enriched,  and 
advanced  to  honour:  the  priibner  heartily  re 
pents  of  the  folly  and  wickednefs  of  his  offence 
againft  his  Prince,  is  thoroughly  difpofed  to  abafe 
himfelf,  and  accept  of  the  King's  offer;  but  is 
confined  by  flrong  walls,  with  gates  of  brafs, 
and  bars  of  iron.  The  other  cafe  is,  that  of  a 
man  who  is  of  a  very  unreafonable  fpirit,  of  a 
haughty,  ungrateful,  wilful  difpoiition  ;  and, 
moreover,  has  been  brought  up  in  traiterous  prin 
ciples  ;  and  has  his  heart  pofleffed  with  an  ex- 

X  treme 


306  Calvinifm  confident  Part  IV. 

treme  and  inveterate  enmity  to  his  lawful  fove- 
reign ;  and  for  his  rebellion  is  cafi  into  prifon, 
and  lies  long  there,  loaden  with  .heavy  chains, 
and  in  miferable  circumflances.  At  length  the 
compafiionate  Prince  comes  to  the  prifon,  orders 
his  chains  to  be  knocked  off,  and  his  prifon- 
doors  to  be  fet  wide  open  •,  calls  to  him,  and  tells 
him,  if  he  will  come  forth  to  him,  and  fall 
down  before  him,  acknowledge  that  he  has  treated 
him  unworthily,  and  aik  his  forgiveneis ;  he 
fliall  be  forgiven,  fet  at  liberty,  and  fet  in  a 
place  of  great  dignity  and  profit  in  his  court. 
But  he  is  flout  and  ftomachful,  and  full  of 
haughty  malignity,  that  he  cannot  be  willing  to 
accept  the  offer :  his  rooted  flrong  pride  and 
malice  have  perfedt  power  over  him,  and  as  it 
were  bind  him,  by  binding  his  heart:  the  oppo- 
fition  of  his  heart  has  the  maftery  over  him, 
having  an  influence  on  his  mind  far  fuperior  to 
the  King's  grace  and  condefcenfion,  and  to  all 
his  kind  offers  and  promifes.  Now,  is  it  agre- 
able  to  common  Senfe,  to  affert  and  fland  to  it, 
that  there  is  no  difference  between  thefe  two 
cafes,  as  to  any  worthinefs  of  blame  in  the  pri- 
foners ;  becaufe,  forfooth,  there  is  a  neceffity  in 
both,  and  the  required  ac~l  in  each  cafe  is  impof- 
fible  ?  It  is  true,  a  man's  evil  difpofitions  may 
be  as  flrong  and  immoveable  as  the  bars  of  a 
caflle.  But  who  cannot  fee,  that  when  a  man, 
in  the  latter  cafe,  is  laid  to  be  unable  to  obey  the 
command,  the  expreffion  is  ufed  improperly,  and 
not  in  the  Senfe  it  has  originally  and  in  common 
fpeech  ?  and  that  it  may  properly  be  faid  to  be 
in  the  rebel's  power  to  come  out  of  prifon,  fee 
ing  he  can  eafily  do  it  if  he  pleafes ;  though  by 
reafon  of  his  vile  temper  of  heart,  which  is  fixed 
and  rooted,  it  is  impofftble  that  it  fhould  pleafe 
him  ? 

Upon 


Sect.  IV.          with  common  Senfe.  307 

Upon  the  whole,  I  prefume  there  is  no  perfon 
of  good  underftanding,  who  impartially  confi- 
ders  the  things  which'  have  been  obferved,  but 
will  allow,  that  it  is  not  evident,  from  the  dictates 
of  the  common  Senfe,  or  natural  Notions  of  man 
kind,  that  moral  neceffity  is  inconfiftent  with 
Praife  and  Blame.  And,  therefore,  if  the  Armi- 
mans  would  prove  any  fuch  inconfiilency,  it  mud 
be  by  fome  philofophical  and. metaphyfical  argu 
ments,  and  not  common  Senle. 

There  is  a  grand  illufion  in  the  pretended  de- 
mpnllration  of  Arminiam  from  common  Senfe. 
The  main  ftrength  of  all  thefe  demonftrations 
lies  in  that  prejudice,  that  arlfes  through  the  infen- 
fible  change  of  the  ufe  and  meaning  of  fuch  terms 
as  liberty ,  able^  .  unable,  neceffary,  impqffible,  un- 
avoidable^  invincible,  aftion,  &c.  from  their  ori 
ginal  and  vulgar  Senfe,  to  a  metaphyfical  Senfe, 
entirely  diyerfe  ;  and  the  ftrong  connection  of  the 
ideas  of  BlamelefTnefs,  &c.  with  fome  of  thefe 
terms,  by  an  habit  contracted  and  eftablifhed, 
>vhile  thefe  terms  were  ufed  in  their  firtf  mean 
ing.  This  prejudice  and  delufion,  is  the  founda 
tion  of  all  thofe  pofitions,  they  lay  down  as  max 
ims,  by  which  mofl  of  the  Scriptures,  which  they 
alledge  in  this  controverfy,  arc  interpreted,  and 
on  which  all  their  pompous  demonftrations  from 
Scripture  and  reafon  depend.  From  this  lecret 
delufion  and  prejudice  they  have  almoft  all  their 
advantages :  it  is  the  ftrength  of  their  bulwarks, 
and  the  edge  of  their  weapons.  And  this  is  the 
main  ground  of  all  the  right  they  have  to  treat 
their  neighbours  in  fo  arTuming  a  manner,  and 
to  infult  others,  perhaps  as  wife  and  good  as 
themfelves,  as  weak  bigots,  men  that  dwell  in  the 
dark  caves  of  fuperftition^  perverfely  fet,  objlinately 
Jhutting  their  eyes  againft  the  noon-day  light,  ene- 

X  2  mm 


308  Calvinifm  conjiftent,  &c.         Part  IV. 

mies  to  common  Senfe,  maintaining  the  frft-lorn  of 
absurdities,  &c.  &c.  But  perhaps  an  impartial 
confideration  of  the  things,  which  have  been  ob- 
ferved  in  the  preceding  parts  of  this  enquiry, 
may  enable  the  lovers  of  truth  better  to  judge, 
whofe  doctrine  is  indeed  alfurd,  abjlrufe,  felf-con- 
tradiftory>  and  inconfiftent  with  common  Senfe, 
and  many  ways  repugnant  to  the  univerfal  dic 
tates  of  the  reafon  of  mankind. 

CoroL  From  things  which  have  been  obferved, 
it  will  follow,  that  it  is  agreable  to  common  Senfe 
to  fuppofe,  that  the  glorified  faints  have  not 
their  freedom  at  all  diminifhed,  in  any  refpect ; 
and  that  God  Himfelf  has  the  higheft  poflible 
freedom,  according  to  the  true  and  proper  mean 
ing  of  the  term  ;  and  that  he  is,  in  the  higheft 
poflible  refpect,  an  agent,  and  active  in  the  exer- 
cife  of  his  infinite  holinefs  ;  though  he  acts  there 
in,  in  the  higheft  degree,  neceffarily  :  and  his  ac 
tions  of  this  kind  are  in  the  higheft,  moft  abfo- 
lutely  perfect  manner  virtuous  and  praife- worthy ; 
and  are  fo,  for  that  very  reafoq,  becaule  they  are 
moft  perfectly  neceflary. 


SECTION 


Sect.  V.     Endeavours  not  rendered,  &c^          309 


SECTION    V. 

Concerning  thofe  Obje&ions,  that  tins  Scheme  of 
Neceffity  renders  all  Means  and  Endeavours 
for  the  avoiding  of  Sin,  or  the  obtaining  Virtue 
and  Holinefs,  vain,  and  to  no  Purpofe;  and 
that  it  makes  Men  no  more  than  meer  Machines 
in  Affairs  of  Morality  and  Religion. 

RMINIANS  fay,  if  it  be  fo,  that  fin  and 
virtue  come  to  pafs  by  a  neceffity  con- 
filling  in  a  fure  connection  of  caufes  and 
effects,  antecedents  and  consequents,  it  can  never 
be  worth  the  while  to  ufe  any  Means  or  Endea 
vours  to  obtain  the  one,  and  avoid  the  other  5 
feeing  no  endeavours  can  alter  the  futurity  of  the 
event,  which  is  become  neceflary  by  a  connec 
tion  already  eftablifhed. 

But  I  defire,  that  this  matter  may  be  fully  con- 
fidered ;  and  that  it  may  be  examined  with  a 
thorough  ftrictnefs,  whether  it  will  follow  that 
Endeavours  and  Means,  in  order  to  avoid  or  ob* 
tain  any  future  thing,  muft  be  more  in  vain,  on 
the  fuppofition  of  luch  a  connection  of  antece-- 
dents  and  confequents,  than  if  the  contrary  be 
fuppofed. 

For  Endeavours  to  be  in  vain,  is  for  them  not 
to  be  fuccefsf ul ;  that  is  to  fay,  for  them  not  even 
tually  to  be  the  Means  of  the  thing  aimed  at, 
which  cannot  be,  but  in  one  of  thefe  two  ways  ; 
either  fir  ft,  that  although  the  Means  are  uled, 
yet  the  event  aimed  at  does  not  follow  :  or,  fe- 
X  3 


£iO  Endeavours  not  rendered  vain,  Part  IV. 
condly9  If  the  event  does  follow,  it  is  not  becaufe 
of  the  Means,  or  from  any  connection  or  depen 
dence  of  the  event  on  the  Mpans,  the  event  would 
have  come  to  pafs,  as  well  without  the  Means,  as 
with  them.  If  either  of  thefe  two  things  are  the 
cafe,  then  the  Means  are  not  properly  fuccefsful, 
and  are  truly  in  vain.  The  fuccefsfulnefs  or  un- 
fuccefsfulnefs  of  Means,  in  order  to  an  effect, 'or 
their  being  in  vain  or  not  in  vain,  con  (ids  in 
thofe  Means  being  conne&ed,  or  not  connected, 
with  the  effect,  in  fuch  a  manner  as  this,  viz. 
That  the  effect  is  with  the  Means,  and  not  with 
out  them  ;  or,  that  the  being 'of  the  effect  is,  on 
the  one  hand,  connected  with  Means,  and  the 
•want  of  the  effect,  on  the  other  hand,  is  con 
nected  with  the  want  of  the  Means.  If  there  be 
fuch  a 'connection  as  this  between  Means  and 
end,  the  Means  are  not  in  vain :  the  more  there 
is  of  fuch 'a  connection,  the  further  they  are  from 
being  in  vain  ;  and  the  lefs  of  fuch  a  connection, 
the  more  they  are  in  vain, 

Now,  therefore,  the  queflion  to  be  anfwered,  (in 
order  to  determine,  whether  it  follows  from  this 
doctrine  of  the  neceffary  connection  between  fore 
going  things,  and  confequent  ones,  that  Means 
ufed  in  order  to  any  effect,  are  more  in  vain  than 
they  would  be  otherwife)  is,  whether  it  follows 
from  it,  that  there  is  lefs  of  the  forementioned 
connection  between  Means  and  effect ;  that  is, 
whether,  on  the  fuppofition  of  there  being  a  real 
and  true  connection  between  antecedent  things 
and  confequent  ones,  there  mufl  be  lefs  of  4 
connection  between  Means  and  effect,  than  ori 
the  fuppofition  of  there  being  no  fixed  connec 
tion,  between  antecedent  things  and  confequent 
ones :  and  the  very  ftating  of  this  queflion  is 
fufficient  to  anfwer  it.  It  muft  appear  to  every 
one 


Sect.  V.         ly  Calviniftic  Principles.  3 1  x 

one  that  will  open  his  eyes,  that  this  queition 
cannot  be  affirmed,  without  the  groffeft  abfurdity 
and  inconfiftence.     Means  are  foregoing  things, 
and  effects   are  following  things :    And  if  there 
were  no  connection  between  foregoing  things  and 
following  ones,  there  could  be  no  connection  be 
tween  Means  and  end  ;  and  fo  all  Means  would 
be  wholly  vain  and  fruitlefs.     For  it  is  by  virtue 
of  fome  connection  only,  that   they  become  fuc- 
cefsful :    It  is  fome  connection  obferved,  or  re 
vealed,  or  otherwife  known,  between  antecedent 
things  and  following  ones,   that   is  what  directs 
in  the  choice  of  Means.     And  if  there  were  no 
fuch  thing   as  an  eftablifhed    connection,   there 
could   be   no    choice,  as  to  Means ;    one  thing 
would  have  no  more  tendency  to  an  effect,  than 
another  5  there  would  be  no  fuch  thing  as  ten 
dency  in  the  cafe.     All  thofe  things,  which  are 
fuccefsful  Means  of    other   things,    do    therein 
prove    connected     antecedents  of    them :     and 
therefore  to  affert,  that  a  fixed  connection   be 
tween  antecedents  and  confeqnents  makes  Means 
vain  and  ufelefs,  or  (lands  in  the  way  to  hinder 
the  connection  between  Means  and  end,  is  jufl 
fo  ridiculous,  as  to  fay,  that  a  connection  between 
antecedents  and  confequents  ftands  in  the  way 
to  hinder  a  connection  between  antecedents  and 
confequents. 

Nor  can  any  fnppofed  connection  of  the  fuc- 
ceflion  or  train  of  antecedents  and  confequents, 
from  the  very  beginning  of  all  things,  the  con 
nection  being  made  already  fure  and  neceffary,  ei 
ther  by  eftablifhed  laws  of  nature,  or  by  thefe 
together  with  a  decree  of  fovereign  immediate 
interpofitions  of  divine  power,  on  fuch  and  fuch 
occafions,  or  any  other  way  (if  any  other  there 
be  5)  I  fay,  no  fnch  neceflary  connection  of  a  fe- 
X  4  lies 


312     Means  and  Endeavours  made  vain,   Part  IV. 

ries  of  antecedents  and  confequcnts  can  in  the 
leaft  tend  to  hinder,  but  that  the  Means  we  uie 
may  belong  to  the  feries  ^  and  fo  may  be  fome  of 
thofe  antecedents  which  are  connected  with  the 
confequents  we  aim  at,  in  the  eftablifhed  courfe 
of  things.  Endeavours  'which  we  ufe,  are 
things  that  exifl  •,  and,  therefore,  they  belong  to 
the  general  chain  of  events ;  all  the  parts  of 
which  chain  are  fuppofed  to  be  connected :  and 
fo  Endeavours  are  fuppofed  to  be  connected  with 
fome  effects,  or  fome  confequent  things  or  other. 
And  certainly  this  does  not  hinder  but  that  the 
events  they  are  connected  with,  may  be  thofe 
which  we  aim  at,  and  which  we  chufe,  becaufe 
we  judge  them  moft  likely  to  have  a  connection 
with  thofe  events,  from  the  eftablifhed  order  and 
courfe  of  things  which  we  obferve,  or  from  fome- 
thing  in  divine  Revelation. 

Let  us  fuppofe  a  real  and  fure  connection  be 
tween  a  man's  having  his  eyes  open  in  the  clear 
clay-light,  with  good  organs  of  fight,  and  fee 
ing  ^  ib  that  feeing  is  connected  with  his  opening 
his  eyes,  and  not  feeing  with  his  not  o'pening 
his  eyes  -,  and  alfo  the  like  connection  between 
fuch  a  man's  attempting  to  open  his  eyes,  and 
his  actually  doing  it :  the  fuppofed  eftablifhed 
connedlion  between  thefe  antecedents  and  confe 
quents,  let  the  connection  be  never  fo  fure  and 
neceffary,  certainly  does  not  prove  that  it  is  in 
vain,  for  a  man  in  fuch  circumftances,  to  attempt 
to  open  his  eyes,  in  order  to  feeing :  his  aiming  at 
that  event,  and  the  ufe  of  the  Means,  being  the 
effect  of  his  will,  does  not  break  the  connection^, 
or  hinder  the  fuccefs. 

So  that  the  objection  we  are  upon  does  not  lie 
againft  the  doctrine  of  the  neceffity  of  events 
by  a  certainty  of  connection  and  confequence ; 

On 


Se6b.  V.       fy  tie  Arminian  Scheme.  313 

On  the  contrary,  it  is  truly  forcible  againft  the 
Arminian  doctrine  of  contingence  and  ielf  -deter 
mination  ;  which  is  inconfiilent  with  fuch  a  con 
nection.  If  there  be  no  connection  between  thofe 
events,  wherein  virtue  and  vice  confift,  and  any 
thing  antecedent  •,  then  there  is  no  connection 
between  thefe  events  and  any  Means  or  Endea 
vours  ufed  in  order  to  them  :  and  if  fo,  then 
thofe  means  muft  be  in  vain.  The  lefs  there  is 
of  connection  between  foregoing  things  and  fol 
lowing  ones,  fo  much  the  lefs  there  is  between 
Means  and  end,  Endeavours  and  fuccefs  ;  and  in 
the  fame  proportion  are  Means  and  Endeavours 
ineffectual  and  in  vain. 

It  will  follow7  from  Arminian  principles,  that 
there  is  no  degree  of  connection  between  virtue 
or  vice,  and  any  foregoing  event  or  thing  :  or, 
in  other  words,  that  the  determination  of  the 
exiflence  of  virtue  or  vice  do  not  in  the  lead  de 
pend  on  the  influence  of  any  thing  that  comes 
to  pafs  antecedently,  from  which  the  determina 
tion  of  its  exigence  is,  as  its  caufe,  Means,  or 
ground  •,  becaufe,  fo  far  as  it  is  fo,  it  is  not  from 
felf-determi  nation  :  and,  therefore,  fo  far  there  is 
nothing  of  the  nature  of  virtue  or  vice.  And  fo 
it  follows,  that  virtue  and  vice  are  not  at  all,  in 
any  degree,  dependent  upon,  or  connected  with, 
any  foregoing  event  or  exiitence,  as  its  caufe, 
ground,  or  Means.  And  if  fo,  then  all  foregoing 
muft  be  totally  in  vain, 


Hence  it  follows,  that  there  cannot,  in  any 
confidence  with  the  drminian  fcheme,  be  any 
reafonable  ground  of  fo  much  as  a  conjecture 
concerning  the  confequcnce  of  any  Means  and 
Endeavours,  in  order  to  efcaping  vice  or  obtain 
ing  virtue,  or  any  choice  or  preference  of  Means, 
I  as 


314  Calvinifm  does  not  encourage  Sloth.  Part  IV, 
as  having  a  greater  probability  of  fuccefs  by  fome 
than  others  ;  either  from  any  natural  connection 
or  dependence  of  the  end  on  the  Means,  or 
through  any  divine  conftitution,  or  revealed  way 
of  God's  beftowing  or  bringing  to  pafs  thefe 
things,  in  confcqnence  of  any  Means,  Endea 
vours,  Prayers  or  Deeds.  Conjectures,  in  this 
latter  cafe,  depend  on  a  fuppofition,  that  God 
himfelf  is  the  Giver,  or  determining  Caufe  of  the 
events  fought :  but  if  they  depend  on  felf-deter- 
mination,  then  God  is  not  the  determining  or 
difpofing  Author  of  them  :  and  if  thefe  things 
are  not  of  his  difpofal,  then  no  conjecture  can 
be&made,  from  any  revelation  he  has  given,  con 
cerning  any  way  or  method  of  his  difpofal  of 
them. 

Yea,  on  thefe  principles,  it  will  not  only  fol 
low,  that  men  cannot  have  any  reafonable  ground 
of  judgment  or  conjecture,  that  their  Means  and 
Endeavours  to  obtain  virtue  or  avoid  vice,  will 
be  fuccefsful,  but  they  may  be  fure,  they  will  not ; 
they  may  be  certain,  that  they  will  be  in  vain ; 
and  that  if  ever  the  thing,  which  they  feek,  comes 
to  pafs,  it  will  not  be  at  all  owing  to  the  Means 
they  ufe.  For  Means  and  Endeavours  can  have 
lio  effect  at  all,  in  order  to  obtain  the  end,  but 
in  one  of  thefe  two  ways  :  either,  (i.)  Through  a 
natural  tendency  and  influence,  to  prepare  and 
difpofe  the  mind  more  to  virtuous  acts,  either 
by  caufing  the  difpofition  of  the  heart  to  be  more 
in  favour  of  fuch  aCts,  or  by  bringing  the  mind 
more  into  the  view  of  powerful  motive's  and  in 
ducements  :  or,  (2.)  By  putting  perfons  more 
in  the  way  of  God's  beftowment  of  the  benefit. 
But  neither  of  thefe  can  be  the  cafe*  Not  the 
latter  ;  for,  as  has  been  juit  now  obferved,  it  does 
pot  confift  with  the  Armnian  notion  of  felf-deter- 

mination.. 


Sect.  V.  Calvinifm  does  not  encourage  Sloth.     315 

mination,  which  they  fuppofe  eflential  to  virtue, 
that  God  fhould  be  the  Beftower,  or  (which  is 
the  fame  thing)  the  determining,  difpofing  Au 
thor  of  Virtue.  Not  the  former ,  for  natural  in 
fluence  and  tendency  fuppofes  caufality  and  con 
nection  •,  and  fuppofes  neceffity  of  event,  which 
is  inconfiftent  with'  Armiman  liberty.  A  ten 
dency  of  Means,  by  biailing  the  heart  in  favour 
of  virtue,  or  by  bringing  the  will  under  the  in- 
fiuence  and  power  of  motives  in  its  determi 
nations,  are  both  inconfiftent  with  Arminlan  li 
berty  of  will,  confiding  in  indifference,  and  fove- 
reign  felf-determination,  as  has  been  largely  de- 
monftrated. 

But  for  the  more  full  removal  of  this  prejudice 
againft  the  doctrine  of  neceffity,  which  has  been 
maintained,  as  though  it  tended  to  encourage  a 
total  neglect  of  all  Endeavours  as  vain ;  the  fol- 
Jowing  things  may  be  coniidered. 

The  queftion  is  not,  Whether  men  may  not 
thus  improve  this  doctrine  :  we  know  that  many 
true  and  wholefome  doctrines  are  abufed :  but, 
whether  the  doctrine  gives  any  juft  occafion  for 
fuch  an  improvement ;  or  whether,  on  the  fup- 
pbfition  of  the  truth  of  the  doctrine,  fuch  a  ufe 
of  it  would  not  be  unreafonable  ?  If  any  fhall 
affirm,  that  it  wrould  not,  but  that  the  very  na 
ture  of  the  doctrine  is  fuch  as  gives  juft  occafion 
for  it,  it  muft  be  on  this  fuppofition  •,  namely, 
that  fuch  an  invariable  neceffity  of  all  things  al 
ready  fettled,  muft  render  the  interpofition  of 
all  Means,  Endeavours,  Conclufions  or  Actions 
of  ours,  in  order  to  the  obtaining  any  future 
end  whatfoever,  perfectly  infignificant ;  becaufe 
they  cannot  in  the  lead  alter  or  vary  the  courfe 
and  feries  of  things,  in  any  event  or  circumftance; 


3 1 6    Calvinifm  dees  not  encourage  Sloth.  Part  IV. 

all  being  already  fixed  unalterably  by  necefilty  : 
and  that  therefore  it  is  folly,  for  men  to  ufe 
any  Means  for  any  end  •,  but  their  wifdom,  to  fave 
themfelves  the  trouble  of  Endeavours,  and  take 
their  eafe.  No  perfon  can  draw  fuch  an  inference 
from  this  do&rine,  and  come  to  fuch  a  conclu- 
fion,  without  contradicting  himfelf,  and  going 
counter  to  the  very  principles  he  pretends  to  act 
upon  :  for  he  comes  to  a  conclufion,  and  takes 
a  courfe,  in  order  to  an  end^  even  his  eafe,  or  the 
laving  himfelf  from  trouble  ;  he  feeks  fomething 
future,  and  ufes  Means  in  order  to  a  future  thing, 
even  in  his  drawing  up  that  conclufion,  that  he 
will  feek  nothing,  and  ufe  no  Means  in  order  to 
any  thing  in  future  •,  he  feeks  his  future  eafe,  and 
the  benefit  and  comfort  of  indolence.  If  prior 
necefiity,  that  determines  all  things,  makes  vain 
all  actions  or  conclufions  of  ours,  in  order  to  any 
thing  future-,  then  it  makes  vain  all  conclufions 
and  conduct  of  ours,  in  order  to  our  future  eafe. 
The  meafure  of  our  eafe,  with  the  time,  man 
ner  and  every  circumftance  of  it,  is  already  fixed, 
by  all-determining  necefilty,  as  much  as  any 
thing  elfe.  If  he  fays  within  himfelf,  "  What 
'<  future  happinefs  or  mifery  I  mall  have,  is  al- 
"  ready,  in  effect,  determined  by  the  necefiary 
^  courfe  and  connection  of  things  -9  therefore,  I 
"  will  fave  myfelf  the  trouble  of  labour  and 
ic  diligence,  which  cannot  add  to  my  determined 
"  degree  of  happinefs,  or  diminifh  my  mifery  ; 
"  but  will  take  my  eaie,  and  will  enjoy  the  com- 
cc  fort  of  fioth  and  negligence. "  Such  a  man 
contradicts  himfelf:  he  fays,  the  meafure  of  his 
future  happinefs  and  mifery  is  already  fixed,  and 
he  will  not  try  to  diminifh  the  one,  nor  add  to  the 
other :  but  yet,  in  his  very  conclufion,  he  con 
tradicts  this ;  for,  he  takes  up  this  conclufion,  to 
add  to  his  future  hapfinefs^  by  the  eafe  and  com 
fort 


Seft.V.  Calvihifm  does  not  make  Men  Machines.  317 

fort  of  his  negligence  •,  and  to  diminiih  his  future 
trouble  and  mifery,  by  faving  himielf  the  trouble 
of  ufmg  Means  and  taking  Pains. 

Therefore  perfons  cannot  reafonably  make  this 
improvement  of  the  doctrine  of  neceffity,  that 
they  will  go  into  a  voluntary  negligence  of  Means 
for  their  own  happinefs.  For  the  principles  they 
muft  go  upon,  in  order  to  this,  are  inconfiftent 
with  their  making  any  improvement  at  all  of  the 
do&rine :  for  to  make  feme  improvement  of  it, 
is  to  be  influenced  by  it,  to  come  to  fome  volun 
tary  concluiion,  in  regard  to  their  own  conduct, 
with  fome  view  or  aim :  but  this,  as  has  been 
ihown,  is  inconfiftent  with  the  principles  they 
pretend  to  act  upon.  In  fhort,  the  principles  are 
fuch  as  cannot  be  acted  upon  at  all,  or,  in  any 
refpect,  confiftently.  And,  therefore,  in  every 
pretence  of  acting  upon  them,  or  making  any 
improvement  at  all  of  them,  there  is  a  felf-con- 
tradiction. 

As  to  that  Objection  againft  the  doctrine,  which 
I  have  endeavoured  to  prove,  that  it  makes  men 
no  more  than  meer  Machines  •,  I  would  fay,  that 
notwithstanding  this  doctrine,  Man  is  entirely, 
perfectly  and  unfpeakably  different  from  a  meer 
Machine,  in  that  he  has  reafon  and  underitand- 
ing,  and  has  a  faculty  of  will,  and  is  fo  capable 
of  volition  and  choice;  and  in  that,  his  will  is 
guided  by  the  dictates  or  vie\vs  of  his  under- 
Handing  j  and  in  that  his  external  actions  and  be 
haviour,  and,  in  many  reipects,  alfo  his  thoughts, 
and  the  exercifes  of  his  mind,  are  fubject  to  his 
will ;  fo  that  he  has  liberty  to  act  according  to 
his  choice,  and  do  what  he  pleafes  •,  and  by  Means 
of  thefe  things,  is  capable  of  moral  habits  and 
moral  acts,  fuch  inclinations  and  actions  as,  ac 
cording 


*  1 3  Calvinifm  does  not  make  Men  Machines.  P.  IV; 

*J 

cording  to  the  common  fenfe  of  mankind,  are 
worthy  of  praife,  efteem,  love  and  reward  ;  or, 
on  the  contrary,  of  difefleem>  deteflation,  indig 
nation  and  punimment. 

In  thefe  things  is  all  the  difference  from  meer 
Machines,  as  to  liberty  and  agency,  that  would 
be  any  perfection,  dignity  or  privilege,  in  any 
refpect  :  all  the  difference  that  can  be  defired, 
and  all  that  can  be  conceived  of ;  and  indeed  all 
that  the  pretenfions  of  the  Armimans  themfelves 
come  to,  as  they  are  forced  often  to  explain  them 
felves.  (Though  their  explications  overthrow 
and  abolilh  the  things  afferted,  and  pretended  to 
be  explained)  For  they  are  forced  to  explain  a 
felf-determining  power  of  will,  by  a  power  in 
the  foul,  to  determine  as  it  chufes  or  wills  ;  which 
comes  to  no  more  than  this,  that  a  man  has  a 
power  of  chufing,  and,  in  many  inftances,  can 
do  as  he  chufes.  Which  is  quite  a  different  thing 
from  that  contradiction,  his  having  power  of  ehu- 
his  firfl  act  of  choice  in  the  cafe. 


Or,  if  their  fcheme  makes  any  other  difference 
than  this,  between  Men  and  Machines,  it  is  for 
the  worfe  :  it  is  fo  far  from  fuppofing  Men  to 
have  a  dignity  and  privilege  above  Machines^ 
that  it  makes  the  manner  of  their  being  deter 
mined  flill  more  unhappy.  Whereas,  Machines 
are  guided  by  an  underitanding  caufe,  by  the 
fkilful  hand  of  the  workman  or  owner  ;  the  will 
of  Man  is  left  to  the  guidance  of  nothing,  but 
abfolute  blind  contingence. 


SECTION 


SECTION     VI. 

Concerning  that  Objedtion  againft  the  Doctrine 
which  has  been  maintained,  that  it  agrees  with 
the  Stoical  Dottrine  of  Fate,  and  the  Opinions  of 
Mr.  Hobbes. 

WHEN  Calvini/ls  oppofe  the  Arminian 
notion  of  the  freedom  of  will,  and  con- 
tingence  of  volition,  and  infift  that  there  arc  no 
ads  of  the  will,  nor  any  other  events  whatfo- 
ever,  but  what  are  attended  with  feme  kind  of 
neceflity ;  their  oppofers  cry  out  of  them,  as 
agreeing  with  the  antient  Stoicks  in  their  dodtrine 
of  Fate,  and  with  Mr.  Hobbes  in  his  opinion  of 
Necejfity. 

It  would  not  be  worth  while  to  take  notice  of 
fo  impertinent  an  Objection,  had  it  not  been  urged 
by  fome  of  the  chief  Arminian  writers. — There 
were  many  important  truths  maintained  by  the 
antient  Greek  and  Roman  philofophers,  and  efpeci- 
ally  the  Stoicks,  that  are  never  the  worfe  for  being 
held  by  them.  The  Stoic  philofophers,  by  the  ge 
neral  agreement  of  Chriftian  divines,  and  even  Ar- 
minian  divines,  were  the  greateft,  wifcft,  and  moll 
virtuous  of  all  the  heathen  philcfophers  ;  and,  in 
their  doctrine  and  practice,  came  the  neareft  to 
Chriilianity  of  any  of  their  fects.  How  frequently 
are  the  fayings  of  thefe  philofophers,  in  many  of 
the  writings  and  fermons,  even  t&Armiriian  divines, 
produced,  not  as  arguments  of  the  falfcnefs  of  the 
doctrines  which  they  delivered,  but  as  a  confir 
mation  of  fome  of  the  greateft  truths  of  the 
Chriftian  Religion,  relating  to  the  Unity  and  Per 
fections 


320  Qftfa  Stoical  Fate.  Part  IV. 

fediions  of  the  Godhead,  a  future  ftate,  the  duty 
and  happinefs  of  mankind,  &c.  as  obferving  how 
the  light  of  nature  and  reafon,  in  the  wifefb  and 
bed  of  the  Heathen,  harmonized  with,  and  con 
firms  the  Goipel  of  Jefus  Chrift. 

And  it  is  very  remarkable,  concerning  Dr. 
Whltby,  that  although  he  alledges  the  agreement 
of  the  Stolcks  with  us,  wherein  he  fuppofes  they 
maintained  the  like  doctrine  with  us,  as  an  argu 
ment  againfl  the  truth  of  our  doctrine ,  yet,  this 
very  Dr.  Whitby  alledges  the  agreement  of  the 
Stoicks  with  the  Arminians,  wherein  he  fuppofes 
they  taught  the  fame  doctrine  with  them,  as  an 
argument  for  the  truth  of  their  doctrine.*  So  that, 
when  the  Stoicks  agree  with  them,  this  (it  feems) 
is  a  confirmation  of  their  doctrine,  and  a  confu 
tation  of  ours,  as  fhewing  that  our  opinions  arc 
contrary  to  the  natural  fenfe  and  common  reafon 
of  mankind  :  neverthelefs,  when  the  Stoicks  agree 
with  us,  it  argues  no '  fuch  thing  in  our  favour  ; 
but,  on  the  contrary,  is  a  great  argument  againfl 
us,  -and  mews  our  doctrine  to  be  heatheniih. 

It  is  obfervcd  by  fome  Calvimflic  writers,  that 
the  Arminlans  fymbolize  with  the  Stoicks,  in  fome 
of  thofe  doctrines  wherein  they  are  oppofed  by 
the  Cafainlfts ;  particularly  in  their  denying  an 
original,  innate,  total  corruption  and  depravity 
of  heart  \  and  in  what  they  held  of  man's  ability 
to  make  himfelf  truly  virtuous  and  conformed  to 
God  ;— and  in  forne  other  doctrines. 

It  may  be  further  obferved,  it  is  certainly  no 
better  Objection  againil  our  doctrine,  that  it 
agrees,  in  fome  refpects,  with  the  doctrine  of  the 

antient 

*  Wlitly  on  the  five  Points,  Edit.  3^  p.  325,  326,  327. 


Se<5l  VI.  Of  tie  Stoical  Fate  321 

antient  Stoic  philofophers,  than  it  is  againft  theirs, 
wherein  they  differ  from  us,  that  it  agrees,  in  fome 
refpedbs,  with  the  opinion  of  the  very  worft  of  the 
heathen  philofophers,  the  followers  of  Epicurus^ 
that  father  of  atheifm  and  licentioufnefs,  and  with 
the  doctrine  of  the  Sadducees  and  Jefuits. 

I  am  not  much  concerned  to  know  precifely, 
what  the  antient  Stoic  philofophers  held  concern 
ing  Fate^  in  order  to  determine  what  is  truth  ;  as 
though  it  were  a  fure  way  to  be  in  the  right,  to 
take  good  heed  to  differ  from  them.  It  Teems, 
that  they  differed  among  themfelves  ;  and  pro 
bably  the  doctrine  of  Fate^  as  maintained  by  molt 
of  them,  was,  in  fome  refpects,  erroneous.  But 
whatever  their  doctrine  was,  if  any  of  them  held 
fuch  a  Fate,  as  is  repugnant  to  any  liberty,  confiit- 
ing  in  our  doing  as  we  pleafe,  I  utterly  deny  fuch 
fc  Fate.  If  they  held  any  fuch  Fate,  as  is  not  con- 
fiftent  with  the  common  and  univerfal  notions  that 
mankind  have  of  liberty,  activity,  moral  agency, 
virtue  and  vice  ;  I  difclaim  any  fuch  thing,  and 
think  I  have  demonflrated,  that  the  fcheme  I 
maintain  is  no  fuch  fcheme.  If  the  Stoicksy  by 
Fate,  meant  any  thing  of  fuch  a  nature,  as  can 
be  fuppofed  to  ftand  in  the  way  of  the  advantage 
and  benefit  of  the  ufe  of  means  and  endeavours, 
or  make  it  lefs  worth  the  while  for  men  to  de- 
fire,  and  feek  after  any  thing  wherein  their  vir 
tue  and  happinefs  confifts  ;  I  hold  no  doctrine 
that  is  clogged  with  any  fuch  inconvenience,  any 
more  than  any  other  fcheme  whatsoever  ;  and  by 
no  means  fo  much  as  the  Armmian  fcheme  of 
contingence  ;  as  has  been  fhewn.  If  they  held 
any  fuch  doctrine  of  univerfal  fatality,  as  is  in- 
confident  with  any  kind  of  liberty,  that  is  or 
can  be  any  perfection,  dignity,  privilege  or  be 
nefit,  or  any  thing  defirable,  in  any  refpect,  fcr 

Y  any 


32*  Of  Hobbiaical  Neceffity.         Part  IV. 

any  intelligent  creature,  or  indeed  with  any  li 
berty  that  is  pofiible  or  conceivable-,  I  embrace 
no  fuch  doctrine.  If  they  held  any  fuch  doctrine 
of  Fate,  as  is  inconfiilent  with  the  world's  being 
in  all  things  fubject  to  the  difpofal  of  an  intelli 
gent  wife  agent,  that  prefide's,  not  as  the.  foul  of 
the  world,  but  as  the  Sovereign  Lord  of  the  Uni- 
verfe,  governing  all  things  by  proper  will, 
choice  and  deiign,  in  the  exercife  of  the  moil 
perfect  .liberty  conceivable,  without  fubjedtion 
to  any  conftraint,  or  being  properly  under  the 
powder  or  influence  of  any  thing  before,  above  or 
without  himfelf;  I  wholly  renounce  any  fuch 
doctrine. 

As  to  Mr.  Hollies' s  maintaining  the  fame  doc 
trine  concerning  neceffity  •, — I  confcfs,  it  happens 
I  never  read  Mr.  Ho.bbes.  Let  his  opinion  be 
what  it  will,  we  need  not  reject  all  truth  which 
is  demonftrated  by  clear  evidence,  meerly.  becaufe 
it  was  once  held  by  fome.bad  man.  This  great 
truth,  that  Jefus  is  the  Son  of  God,  was  not  fpoiled 
becaufe  it  \vas  once  and  again  proclaimed  with  a 
loud  voice  by  the  devil.  If  truth  is  fo  defiled, 
becaufe  it  is  fpoken  by  the  mouth,  or  written  by 
the  pen  of  Ibme  ill-minded  mifchievous  man,  that 
it  muft  never  be  received,  we  mail  never  know, 
when  we  hold  any  of  the  moil  precious  and  evi 
dent  truths  by  a  fure  tenure..  And  if  Mr.  Hobbes. 
has  made,  a  bad  ufe  of  this  truth,  that  is  to  be 
lamented-,  but  the  truth  is,  not  tp  be  thought 
worthy  of  rejeftion  on  that  account.  It  is  com 
mon  for  the  corruptions  of  the  hearts  of  evil 
men  to  abufe  the  bed  things  t,o  vile'purpofes.  on 

I  might  alfo  ta.ke  notice  of  its  having  been  ob-< 
ferved,  that  the  Arminians  agree  with  Mr.  Hobbes 
*in  many  more  things  than  the  Cdvimjls.  As, 

*  Dr.  Gi7/,l  n  his  Answer  to  Dr.  Wbitby.     Vol.  HL 

"  c. 

in 


SeA.  VII.  Concerning  tJoe  NecefTity,  &c.  323 
in  what  he  is  faid  to  hold  concerning  original  fin, 
in  denying  the  neceffity  of  fupernatural  illumi 
nation,  in  denying-  infuled  grace,  in  denying  the 
doctrine  of  j  unification  by  faith  alone  5  and  other 
things. 

SECTION     VII. 

Concerning  the  Neceffity  of  the  Divine  Will. 

SOME  may  poffibly,  object  againfl  what  has 
been  fuppofed  of  the  abfurdity  and  inconfi- 
ilence  of  a  felt- determining  power  in  the  will,  and 
the  impoffibility  of  its  being  otherwife,  than  that 
the  will  ilionld  be  determined  in  every  cafe  by 
feme  motive,  and  by  a  motive  which  (as  it  Hands 
in  the  view  of  the  underftanding"  is  of  fuperior 
ftrength  to  any  appearing  on  the  other  fide; 
that  if  thefe  things  are  true,  it  will  follow,  that 
not  only  the  will  of  created  minds,  but  the  will 
of  God  'Himfelf  is  neceflary  in  all  its  determina 
tions.  Concerning  which,  fays  the  Author  of  the 
Eflay  on  the  Freedom  of  Will  in  God  and  in  the  Crea 
ture  (pag.  85,  86.)  "  What  ftrange  doctrine  is 
"  this,  contrary  to  all  our  ideas  of  the  dominion 
"  of  God  ?  does  it  not  deftroy  the  glory  of  his 
"  liberty  of  choice,  and  take  away  from  the 
"  Creator  and  Governor  and  Benefactor  of  the 
"  world,  that  molt  free  and  Sovereign  Agent,  all 
<c  the  glory  of  this  fort  of  freedom  ?  does  it 
"  not  feem  to  make  him  a  kind  of  mechanical 
"  medium  of  fate,  and  "introduce  Mn  HMes's 
"  doctrine  cf  fatality  and  NecdTity,  into  all 
"  things'  that  God  hath  to  do  with  ?  Does 'it  not 
"  feem  to  reprefent '  the"  blelfed' God,  as  a  Being 
"  of  Vaft-  urrd&rllindimg,  as  well  'a*  power  and 
tfc  effitiency,  but  Hill  to  leave  him  without  a 
Y  2  "  will 


324  Concerning  tie  Necefllty         Pat  t  IV. 

"  will  to  chufe  among  all  the  objects  within  his 
"  view  ?  In  Ihort,  it  Teems  to  make  the  blefTed 
*6  God  a  fort  of  Almighty  Minilter  of  Fate,  un- 
"  der  its  univerfal  and  fupremc  influence  ;  as  it 
<c  was  the  profeffed  fentiment  of  fbme  of  the 
**  antients,  that  Fate  was  above  the  gods." 

This  is  declaiming,  rather  than  arguing ;  and 
an  application  to  men's  imaginations  and  preju 
dices,  rather  than  to  meer  icafon.— -  But  I  would 
calmly  endeavour  to  confider,  whether  there  be 
any  reafon  in  this  frightful  reprefentation. — But, 
beifore  I  enter  upon  a  particular  confideration  of 
the  matter,  I  would  obferve  this  :  that  it  is  rea- 
fonable  to  fuppofe,  it  mould  be  much  more  diffi 
cult  to  exprefs  or  conceive  things  according  to 
exact  metaphyfical  truth,  relating  to  the  nature 
and  manner  of  the  exiftence  of  things  in  the  Di 
vine  Underflanding  and  Will,  and  the  operation 
of  thefe  faculties  (if  I  may  fo  call  them)  of  the 
Divine  Mind,  than  in  the  human  mind  j  which  is 
infinitely  more  within  our  view,  and  nearer  to  a 
proportion  to  the  meafure  of  our  comprehenfion, 
and  more  commenfurate  to  the  ufe  and  import  of 
human  fpeech.  Language  is  indeed  very  deficient, 
in  regard  of  terms  to  exprefs  precife  truth  con 
cerning  our  own  minds,  and  their  faculties  and 
operations.  Words  were  firft  formed  to  cxprds 
external  things ;  and  thole  that  are  applied  to 
exprefs  things  internal  and  fpiritual,  are  almoii 
all  borrowed,  and  ufed  in  a  fort  of  figurative 
fenfe.  Whence  they  are,  mod  of  them,  attended 
with  a  great  deal  of  ambiguity  and  .unfixednefs 
in  their  fignification,  occasioning  innumerable 
doubts,  difficulties  and  confufions,  in  enquiries 
and  controverfies,  about  things  of  this  nature. 
But  language  is  much  kfs  adapted  to  exprefs 

things 


Seft.  VII.       of  tie  Divine  Volition*  325 

things  in  the  mind  of  the  incomprehensible  Deity, 
preciiely  as  they  are. 

We  find  a  great  deal  of  difficulty  in  conceiving 
exactly  of  the  nature  of  our  own  fouls.  And 
notwithftanding  all  the  progrefs,  which  has  been 
made,  in  pail  and  prefent  ages,  in  this  kind  of 
knowledge,  whereby  our  metaphy Ticks,  as  it  re 
lates  to  thefe  things,  is  brought  to  greater  per 
fection  than  once  it  was  •,  yet,  here  is  ftill  work 
enough  left  for  future  enquiries  and  refearches, 
and  room  for  progrefs  ftill  to  be  made,  for  many 
ages  and  generations.  But  we  had  need  to  be 
infinitely  able  metaphyficians,  to  conceive  with 
clearnefs,  according  to  ftrict,  proper  and  perfect 
truth,  concerning  the  nature  of  the  Divine  Ef- 
fence,  and  the  modes  of  the  action  and  operation 
of  the  powers  of  the  Divine  Mind. 

And  it  may  be  noted  particularly,  that  though 
we  are  obliged  to  conceive  of  fome  things  in  God 
as  confequent  and  dependent  on  others,  and  of 
fome  things  pertaining  to  the  Divine  Nature  and 
Will  as  the  foundation  of  others,  and  fo  before 
others  in  the  order  of  nature  :  as,  we  muft  con 
ceive  of  the  knowledge  and  holinefs  of  God  as 
prior,  in  the  order  of  nature,  to  his  happinefs ; 
the  perfection  of  his  underflanding,  as  the  foun 
dation  of  his  wife  purpofes  and  decrees ;  the  ho 
linefs  of  his  nature,  as  the  caufe  and  reafon  of 
his  holy  determinations.  And  yet,  when  we  fpeak 
of  caufe  and  effect,  antecedent  and  confequent, 
fundamental  and  dependent,  determining  and  de 
termined,  in  the  firft  Being,  who  is  felf-exiftent, 
independent,  of  perfect  and  abfolute  (implicit/ 
and  immutability,  and  the  firfl  caufe  of  all  things; 
doubtlefs  there  mult  be  lefs  propriety  in  fuch  re- 
prefentations,  than  when  we  fpeak  of  derived  de- 
Y  3  pendent 


326  Necejfity  of  aSling  mnft  wifely,     Part  IV. 

pendent  beings,  who  are  compounded,   and  liable 
to  perpetual  mutation  and  facceffion. 

Having  premifed  this,  I  proceed  to  obferve  con 
cerning  the  forementioned  Author's  exclamation, 
about  the  necejary  Determination  of  God's  Will,  in 
all  things,  by  what  he  fees  to  beftteft  and  be  ft. 

That  all  the  Teeming  force  of  fuch  objections 
and  exclamations  mud  arife  from  an  imagination, 
that  there  is  fome  fort  of  privilege  or  dignity  in 
being  without  fuch  a  moral  Nfceffity,  as  will 
make  it  impoflible  to  do  any  other,  than  always 
chufe  what  is  wileft  and  bell ;  as  though  there 
were  fomedifad  vantage,  meannefs  and  tubjedtion, 
in  fuch  a  Necefilty  ;  a  thing  by  which  tfoe  will 
-was  confined,  kept  under,  and  held  in  fervitude 
by  fomething,  which,  as  it  were,  maintained  a 
fironor  and  invincible  power  and  dominion  over  it, 
by  boiids  that,  held  him  fa  ft,  and  that  he  could:,  by 
no  means,  deliver  himfelf  from.  Whereas,  this 
mnft  be  all  meer  imagination  and  delufiori.  It  is 
no  difadvanta'ge  or  diihonour  to  a  being,  neceifa- 
riiy  to  aft  in  the  moft  excellent  and  happy  man 
ner,  from  the  necefFary  perfection  of  his  own  na 
ture.  This  argues  no  im perfection,  inferiority  or 
dependance,  nor  any  want  of  dignity,  privilege 
or  afcendency.  *  It  is  not  inconfiftent  with  the 

abfolute 

*  ".  It  might  have  been  objected,  with  more  plaufible- 
"  nefs,  that  the  Supreme  Caufe  cannot  be  free,  becaufe  he  murt 
needs  do  always  what  is  belc  in  the  whole.  But  this  would 
not  at  all  ferve  Spinoza  s  purpofe  ;  for  this  is  a  Neceffity, 
not  of  nature  and  of  fate,  but  of  fitnefs  and  wifdom  ;  a  Ne- 
ceiTity  confiilent  with  the  greateil  freedom,  and  moft  per- 
fedi:  choice.  For  the  only  foundation  of  this  Neceffity  is 
fuch  an  unalterable  reftitude  of  will,  and  perfeftion  of 
wiidom,  as  makes  it  impoiTible  for  a  wife  being  to  aft  fool- 
ifhly."  Clark's  Demonltration  o(  the  Being  and  Attri 
butes  of  God.  Edit.  6'.  p.  64. 

«<  Though 


Sect.  VII.  agreablito  moft  perfeft  Liberty.        327 

abfolute  and  moft  perfect  fovereignry  of  God- 
The  fovereignty  of  God  is   his   ability   and  au 
thority  to  do  whatever -pleafes  him  ;  whereby  He 
doth  according  to  bis  will  in  the  armies  of  heaven, 
and  amongft  the  inhabitants  of  the  eartb>  and  none 
can  ft  ay  his  hand,  or  fay  unto  him,  what  doft  tkou  ? — 
The  following  things  belong  to  the  fovereignty  of 
God;  viz.  (i.)  Supreme,  Univerfal,  and  Infinite 
fower ;  whereby  he  is  able  to  do  what  he  pleafes, 
without  controul,    without   any  confinement  of 
that  power,  without  any  fubjection,  in  the  leaft 
meafure,  to  any  other  power  ;  and  fo  without  any 
iiinderance  or  reilraint,   that  it  fhould   be  either 
impoflible,  or  at  all  difficult,  for  him  to  accom- 
plifh  his  Will ;  and  without  any  dependence  of 
his  power  on  any  other  power,  .from  whence  it 
fhould  be  derived,  or  which  it  ihould  Hand  in  any 
need  of:  fo  far  from  this,   that  all  other  power 
is  derived  from  him,  and. is  abfolutely  dependent 
on  him.      (2.)  That  He  has  fupreme  authority  ; 
Y  4  abfolute 

"  Though  God  is  a  moft  perfect  free  Agent,  yet  he  cannot 
rt  but.  do  always' what  is  bcft  and  wifeft  in  the  whole.  The 
"  reafon  is  evident;  becaufe  perfect  wifdom  and  goodnefs 
"  are  as  ftendy  and  certain  principles  of  aftion,  as  Necefiity 
:«*  itfelf ;  and  an  infinitely  wife  and  good  Being,  indued  with 
*-  the  moft  perfect  liberty,  can  no  more  chufe  to  adl  in  con- 
4«  tradition  to  wifdom  and  goodnefs,  than  a  neceflary  agent 
*f  can  aft  contrary  to  the  Neceffity  by  which  it  is  acted;  it 
*'  :being  as  great  an  abfurdity  and  impoflibility  in  choice,  for 
"  Infinite  Wifdom  to  chufe  to  ad  unwifely,  or  Infinite  Good- 
«'  nefs  to  chufe  what  is  not  good,  as  it  would  be  in  nature, 
•**  for  abfoiute  Necefiity  to  fail  of  producing  its  necefTary 
"  efFeft.  There  was,  indeed,  no  Neceffity  in  nature,  that  God 
*'  fnould  at  firil  create  fuch  beings  as  he  has  created,  or  indeed 
"  any  being  at  all ;  becaufe  he  is,  in  Himfelf,  infinitely  happy 
**  and  all-fufficient.  There  was,  alfo,  no  NeceiTity  in  nature, 
"  that  he  fliould  preferve  and  continue  things  in  being,  after 
**  they  were  created  ;  becaufe  he  would  be  felf-fufficient  with- 
•*'  out  their  continuance,  as  he  was  before  their  creation, 
**  But  it  was  fit  and  wife  and  good,  that  Infinite  Wifdom  fhould 

"manifeft 


328  Necefflty  of  afting  moft  wifely.  Part  IV. 
abiblute  and  moft  perfedl  right  to  do  what  he 
xvills,  without  fubjedion  to  any  fuperior  autho 
rity,  or  any  derivation  of  authority  from  any 
other,  or  limitation  by  any  diftindt  independent 
authority,  either  fuperior,  equal,  or  inferior ; 
he  being  the  head  of  all'  dominion,  and  foun 
tain  of  all  authority ;  and  alfo  without  reftraint 
by  any  obligation,  implying  either  fubje&ion, 
derivation,  "or  dependence,  or  proper  limitation. 
(3.)  That  his  Will  is  fbpreme,  underived,  and 
independent  on  any  thing  without  Himfelf ;  be 
ing  in  every  thing  determined  by  his  own  coun- 
fcl,  having  no  other  rule  but  his  own  wifdom ; 
his  will  not  being  fubjeift  to,  or  restrained  by  the 
will  of  any  other,  and  other  wills  being  perfe&ly 
fubje6t  to  his.  (4.)  That  his  Wifdom^  which 
determines  his  will,  is  fupreme,  perfed,  unde 
rived,  felf-fufficient  and  independent ;  fo  that  it 
may  be  faid,  as  in  Ifai.  xl.  14.  With  whom  took  He 
counfd  ?  And  who  inftrufted  Him  and  taught  Him  in 

the 


manifeft,  and  Infinite  Goodnefs  communicate  itfelf ;  and 
therefore  it  was  neceffary,  in  the  fenfe  of  Neceffity  I  am 
now  fpeaking  of,  that  things  mould  be  made  atj'ucb  a  time,, 
and  continuedyc  long,  and  indeed  with  various  perfections 
in  fuch  degrees,  as  Infinite  Wifdom  and  Goodnefs  faw  it; 
wifeft  and  bell  that  they  mould."  Ibid.  p.  1 12,  113. 
«'  'Tis  not  a  fault,  but  a  perfection  of  our  nature,  to  de- 
"  fire,  will  and  act,  according  to  the  laft  refult  of  a  fair  ex- 
"  animation.— This  is  fo  far  from  being  a  reftraint  or  di- 
•*  minution  of  freedom,  that  it  is  the  very  improvement  and 
"  benefit  of  it:  'tis  not  an  abridgment,  'tis  the  end  and 
"  ufe  cf  our  liberty  ;  and  the  further  we  are  removed  from 
**  fuch  a  determination,  the  nearer  we  are  to  mifery  and  fla- 
**  very.  A  perfect  indifference  in  the  mind,  not  determin- 
"  able  by  its  laft  judgment,  of  the  good  or  evil  that  is  thought 
'*  to  attend  its  choice,  would  be  fo  far  from  being  an  advan- 
*'  tage  and  excellency  of  any  intellectual  nature,  that  it 
'*  would  be  as  great  an  imperfection,  as  the  want  of  indifFe- 
"  rency  to  act,  or  not  to  act,  till  determined  by  the  will, 

"  would  be  an  imperfection  on  the  other  fide. 'Tis  as 

"  much 


Sect.  VII.  agreable  to  moft  perfett  Liberty.  329 
the  patio  of  judgment,  and  taught  Him  knowledge^ 
andjhewed  him  the  way  of  under/facing  ? — There 
is  no  other  Divine  Sovereignty  but  this  :  and  this 
is  properly  abfdute  fovereignty :  no  other  is  deli- 
rable ;  nor  would  any  other  be  honourable,  or 
happy  :  and  indeed,  there  is  no  other  conceivable 
or  pofiible.  It  is  the  glory  and  greatnefs  of  the 
Divine  Sovereign,  that  God's  Will  is  determined 
by  his  own  infinite  all-fufEcient  wifdom  in  every 
thing ;  and  in  nothing  at  all  is  either  directed  by 
any  inferior  wifdom,  or  by  no  wifdom ;  where 
by  it  would  become  fenfelefs  arbitrarinefs,  deter 
mining  and  acting  without  reafon,  defign  or 
end. 

If  God's  Will  is  fteadily  and  furely  determined 
in  every  thing  by  fupreme  wifdom,  then  it  is  in 
every  thing  necerTarily  determined  to  that  which 
is  moft  wife.  And,  certainly,  it  would  be  a  dif- 
ad vantage  and  indignity,  to  be  othcrwife.  For  if 

the 


*'  much  a  perfection,  that  defire  or  the  power  of  preferring 
**  mould  be  determined  by  good,  as  that  the  power  of  acting 
"  mould  be  determined  by  the  will:  and  the  certainer  fuch 
**  determination  is,  the  greater  the  perfection.  Nay,  were 
"  we  determined  by  any  thing  but  the  laft  refult  of  our  own 
*'  minds,  judging  of  the  good  or  evil  of  any  action,  we  were 
'*  not  free.  This  very  end  of  our  freedom  being,  thac  we 
"  might  attain  the  good  we  chufe  ;  and,  therefore,  every  man 
"  is  brought  under  a  Neceffity  by  his  conilitution,  as  an  in- 
*'  telligent  being,  to  be  determined  in  willing  by  his  own 
"  thought  and  judgment,  what  is  belt  for  him  to  do ;  elfe 
'*  he  would  be  under  the  determination  of  fome  other  than 
"  himfelf,  which  is  want  of  liberty.  And  to  deny  that  a 
'*  man's  will,  in  every  determination,  follows  his  own  judg- 
"  ment,  is  to  fay,  that  a  man  wills  and  ads  for  an  end  that 
*'  he  would  not  have,  at  the  fame  time  that  he  wills  and  ac~t$ 
4f  for  it.  For  if  he  prefers  it  in  his  prefent  thoughts,  be- 
*'  fore  any  other,  it  is  plain  he  then  thinks  better  of  it,  and 
"  would  have  it  before  any  other ;  unlefs  he  can  have,  and 
"not  have  it;  will,  and  not  will  it,  .at  the  fame  time;  a 

41  con- 


'Neceff-ly  of  aSing  mofl  wifely.  Part  IV. 
the  Divine  Will  was  not  neceffarily  determined  to 
that,  which  in  every  cafe  is  wifefl  and  beft,  it 
niutf  be  fubjedb'  to  fome  degree  of  undefigning 
c'ontingence  ;  and  fo  in  the  fame  degree  liable  to 
evil.  To  fuppofe  the  Divine  Will  liable  to  be 
carried  hither  and  thither  at  random,  by  the  un 
certain  wind  of  blind  contingence,.  which  is 
guided  by  no  wifdom,  no  motive,  no  intelli 
gent  dictate  wlvatfover,  (if  any  fuch  thing 
were  poflibte)  would  certainly  argue  a  great  de 
gree  of  imperfection  and  meannefs,  infinitely  un 
worthy  of  the  Deity.  —  If  it  be  a  difadvantage, 
for  the  Divine  Will  to  be  attended  with  this  mo 
ral  NecefFity,  then  the  more  tree  from  it,  and  the 

more 

•J"J»!     !  .'  ..'  I''  '.  t?fJ  !t?i»J«  .  .'    i     \  > 

**  coTitridiaioirtoo  mimifeft  to  be  admitted—If  we  look  up- 
**  on:  thofe  fuperior  beings  above  us,  who  enjoy  perfeft  hap- 
««  pinefs,  we  fnall  have  reafon  to  judge,  that  they  are  more 
"  ileadily  determined  in  their  choice  cf  good  than  we  ;  and 
*'•  yet  we  have  no-  reafo'w  to  think  they  are  iefs  happy,  or  lefs 
"•  free,  than  we  are.  And  if  it  were  fit  for  fuch  poor  finite 
«'•  creatures  as  we  are,  to  pronounce  what  Infinite  Wrfitoni 
"•  and  Goodnefs  could  do,  I  think  we  might  (ay,  that  God 
"  himfelf  cannot  chufc-^iit  is  not  good.  Thejreedomofthl 
•'  Almivbty  hinders  M  his  bein*  determined  by  Mat  *?*W"" 
tt  But  to  ffive  a  right  view  of  this  miftaken  part  of  hoertyr 
&  let  me  aik,  Would  any  one  be  a  changeling,  became  he  is 
'f  Iefs  determined  by.  wife  determination,  than  a  wue  man  ? 
*<  Is  it  worth  the  name  of  freedom,  to  be  at  liberty  to  play 
"  the  fool,  and  draw  fhame  and  mifery  upon  a  man's  ielf 
-'  If  to  break  loofe  from  the  con<I«a  of  reafon,  and  to  want 
«  tilat  reftraint  of  examination  and  judgment,  that  keeps  us 
"  from  doinr*  or  chufmg  the  worfe,  be  liberty,  true  liberty, 
"  mad  men  and  fools  are  the  only  free  men.  Yet,  I  thin*, 
«  no  body  would'  chufe  to  be  mad,  for  the  fase  of  fuch  h- 
»«  berty,  "but  he  that  is  mad  already.  Lt>ck*  Hum.  Lnd, 

-  Vol.'  I.  Edit.  7.  p.  215,  2  r  6.  ^1*4-      • 

"  This  Bein?,  having  all  things  always  neceffarily  in  view, 
•i-  mull  alwavs/and  eternally  will,  according  to  bis  infinite 
i«  roinprehenfion  of  things;  that  is,  niuit  will  all  things 

-  rhat  are  wifV-il  and  beiV  to  be  done.     There  is  not  getting 

f  tWs  confrquence.     Tf  it  can  will  at  all,  it  mu-  ft  will 


rce  o  . 

.    ^bJr  of  knowi»»,  and  not  capable  c 

"  wjlimg, 


Seel.  VII.  no  Meannefs  or  Difad vantage.  331 
mere  left  at  random,  the  greater  dignity  and  ad 
vantage.  And,  confequently,  to  be  perfectly  free 
from  the  direction  of  understanding,  and  univer- 
fally  and  entirely  left  to  fenielefs  unmeaning  con- 
tingence,  to  ac~t  abfolutely  at  random,  would  be 
the  -fupreme  glory. 

It  no  more  argues  any  dependence  of  God's 
Will,   that  his  fupremely  wife  volition  is  necef- 
fary,  than  it  argues  a  dependence  of  his  being, 
that  his  exiftence  is  neceffary.    If  it  be  fomething 
too  low,  far  the  Supreme  Being  to  have  his  Will 
determined  by  moral  Neceflity,  fo  as  necefiarily, 
in  every  cafe,  to  will  in  the  higher!  degree  holily 
.and  happily  •,  then  why  is  it  not  alfo  fomething  too 
low,  for  him  to  have  his  exiilence,  and  the  in 
finite 

•"  willing,  is  not  to  be  underftood.  And  to  be  capable  of 
"'  willing  otherwife  than  what  is  wifeft  and  beft,  contradicts 
<£  that  knowledge  which  is  infinite.  Infinite  Knowledge  muil 

'"  direct  the  will  without  error.  Here  then,  is  the  origin  of 
"  moral  Necejfity  ;  and  that  is  really ,  of  freedom — Perhaps  it 
*•'  maybe  faid,  when  the  Divine  Will  is  determined,  from  the 
**  coniideration  of  the  eternal  aptitudes  of  things,  it  is  as 
"  neceffarily  determined,  as  if  it  were  phyfically  impelled,  if 
"  that  were  poffible.  But  it  is  unfkilfulnefs,  to  fuppofe  this 
"  an  objection.  The  great  principle  is  once  eftabliflied,  <viz. 
"  That  the  Divine  Will  is  determined  by  the  eternal  reafon 
"  and  aptitudes  of  things,  initead  of  being  phyfically  im- 
*'  pelled  ;  and  after  that,  the  more  ftrong  and  neceffary  this 
"  determination  is,  the  more  perfect  the  Deity  mufl  be  al- 
"  lowed  to  be :  it  is  this  that  makes  him  an  amiable  and 
"  adorable  Being,  whofe  Will  and  Power  are  conftantly,  im- 
"  mutably  determined,  by  the  confideration  of  what  is  wifeil 
"  and  bell;  inftead  of  a  furd  Being,  with  power,  but  without 
*'  difcerning  and  reafon.  If  is  the  beauty  of  this  Necejjityy 
'*  that  it  is  jircn%  as  fate  itfelf,  with  all  the  advantage  ofrenjon 
"  and goodnefs. — It  is  ftrange,  to  fee  men  contend,  that  the 
' '  Deity,  is  not  free,  becaufe  he  is  neceffarily  rational,  im- 
"  mutably  good  and  wife ;  when  a  man  is  allowed  ftill  the 
*'  pcrfecter  being,  the  more  fixedly  and  conftantly  his  will  is 
"  determined  by  reafon  and  truth.''  Enquiry  into  the  Nature 
of  the  Hum.  Sou/.  Edit.  3.  Vol.  II.  p,  403,  404. 


132  Neceffity  of  afting  mvft  wifely,     Part  IV. 

finite  perfection  of  his  nature,  anc}  his  infinite 
Iiappinds  determined  by  Neceflity  ?  It  is  no  more 
to  God's  di {honour,  to  be  neceffarily  wife,  than 
to  be  neceffarily  holy.  And,  if  neither  of  them 
be  to  his  diihonour,  then  it  is  not  to  his  difho- 
nour  neceffarily  to  act  holily  and  wifely.  And  if 
it  be  not  dishonourable  to  be  neceffarily  holy 
and  wife,  in  the  higheft  poffible  degree,  no  more 
is  it  mearv  and  diihonourable,  neceffarily  to  act 
holily  and  wifely  in  the  higheft  poffible  degree; 
or,  which  is  the  fame  thing,  to  do  that,  in  every 
cafe,  which,  above  all  other  things,  is  wifeft  and 
•belt 

The  reafon,  why  it  is  not  difhonourable,  to 
be  neceffarily  mojl  holy,  is,  becaufe  holinefs  im 
i-tfelf  is  an  excellent  and  honourable  thing.  For 
the.  fame  reafon,  it  is  no  diihonour  to  be  necef 
farily  mojl  wife,  and,  in  every  cafe,  to  act  moft 
wifely,  or  do  the  thing  which  is  the  wifeft  of 
alt ;  for  vvifdom  is  alfo  in  itfelf  excellent  and 
honourable. 

The  forementioned  Author  of  the  EJjay  on  the 
Freedom  of  Will>  &c.  as  has  been  obferved,  repre- 
fents  that  doctrine  of  the  Divine  Will's  being  in 
every  thing  neceffarily  determined  by  fnperior 
iitnefs,  as  making  the  blciied  God  a  kind  of  Al 
mighty  Minifter  and  mechanical  medium  of  fate  : 
and  he  infifts,  p.  93,  94.  that  this  moral  Ne- 
erfTIty  and  impoffibiiity  is,  in  effect,  the  fame 
thing  with  phyfical  and  natural  Neceffity  and 
impoffibiiity:  and  in  p.  54,  55.  he  fays,  u  The 
**  feheme  which  determines  the  will  always  ami 
6fc  certainly  by  the  unclerfbnding,  and  the  un- 
"  derftanding  by  the  appearance  of  things, 
u  teems  to  take  away  the  true  nature  of  vice 
4t  and  virtue.  For  the  i'ubiinieft  of  virtues,  ami 

"  the 


Seel,  VII.    no  Meannefs  -or  Difadvantage 

**  the  vikil  of  vices,  feem  rather  to  be  matters 

*'  of  fate   and  Neceflity,    .flowing  naturally  and 

*c  neccfTariiy  from    the    exiftence,    the  circum- 

**  fiances,  and  >prefent  iituation  of  perfons   and 

"  things  :    for   this  exiftence   and    fituation  ne- 

**  ceilarily    .makes   fuch    an  appearance   to  the 

*<  mind.}  from  this  appearance  flows   a  neceffary 

"  perception    and  judgment,    concerning    thefe 

*c  things  ;  this  judgment.,  neceiTarily  determines 

*'  the  will  :    and  thus,  by   this  chain  of   necef- 

**  fary  caufes,  virtue  and  vice  would  lofe  ckcir 

**  nature,  and  become  natural  ideas,  and  necei- 

**  fary    things,    inilead  of    moral    and  free   ac- 


tons." 


And  yet  this  iame  Author  allows,  p,  30,  31,. 
That  a  perfectly  wife  being  will  constantly  and 
certainly  chufe  what  is  moil  fit  *,  and  fays,  p.  102, 
503.  u  I  grant,  and  always  have  granted,  that 
"  wherefoever  there  is  fuch  antecedent  fuperior 
"  fitnefs  of  things,  God  adls  according  to  it, 
44  fo  as  never  to  contradict  k  ;  and,  particularly, 
"  in  all  his  judicial  proceedings  as  a  Governor, 
"  and  Diftribnter  of  rewards  and  punifhments." 
Yea,  he  fays  exprefsly,  p..  4.2.  "That  it  is  .not 
*4  poffible  for  God  to  a6t  other  wife,  than  accord- 
*'  ing  to  this  fitnefs  and  goodnefs  in  tilings/' 

So  that,  according  to  this  Author,  putting  thefe 
feverai  pafTages  of  this  Elfay  together,  there  is  n& 
virtHe,  nor  any  thing  of  a  moral  nature,  in  the 
rnoft  fublime  and  glorious  acls  and  exerdfes  -of 
God's  holinefs,  juftice,,  and  faithful  nefs-,  and  he 
never  does  any  thing  which  is  in  itfdf  iupreme- 
ly  worthy,  and,  above  all  other  things,  fit  and 
excellent,  but  only  as  a  kind  of  mechanical  me 
dium  of  fate  ;  and  in  -what  he  does  as  the  Judre^ 
moral  Governor  of  tbe  world,  he  exerciies  no 

moral 


Neceffity  of  GOD'S  afifrig  wifely,  &c.  P.  IV. 
moral  excellency ;  exercifing  no  freedom  in  thefe 
things,  becaufe  he  ads  by  moral  Neceffity, 
which  is,  in  effect,  the  fame  with  phyfical  or  na 
tural  Neceffity  •,  and,  therefore,  he  only  acts  by  an 
HoWiflical  fatality  -,  as  a  Being  indeed  of  vaft  under- 
flandrag,  as  well  as  power  arid  efficiency  (as  he  faid 
before  j  but  without  a  will  to  chufe  ^  being  a  kind  of 
Almighty  Mmifter  of  fats^  a  fling  under  its  fupr  erne 
influence.  For  he  allows,  that  in  all  thefe  things, 
God's  Will  is  determined  coniLuth  and  certainly 
by  a  fupcrior  funds,  and  that  it  is  not  poflible 
for  him  to  act  otherwife.  Arid  if  thefe  things 
are  foy  what  glory  or  praife  belongs  to  God  for 
doing  holily  and  juftly,  or  taking  the  moll  fit, 
holy,  wile  and  excellent  courfe,  in  any  or.e  in- 
ftance  ?  Whereas,  according  to  the  Scriptures, 
and  alfo  the  common  fenfe  of  mankind,  it  does 
not,  in  the  lead,  derogate  from  the  -honour  of  any 
being,  that  through  the  moral  perfection  of  his 
nature,  he  neceffarily  acts  with  fupreme  wifdom 
and  holinefs :  but,  on  the  contrary,  his  praife  i$ 
the  greater :  herein  confifls  the  height  of  his 
glory. 

The  fame  Author,  p.  56.  fnppofes,  that  herein 
appears  the  excellent  char  after  of  a  wife  and  good 
man,  that  though  he  can  chufe  contrary  to  the  jitnefs 
of  things,  yet  he  does  not  \  but  fuffers  himfelf  to  be 
dire  fled  by  jitnefs  ;  and  that,  in  this  conduct,'^ 
imitates  the  bieffed  God.  And  yet,  he  fuppofes  it  is 
contrariwile  with  the  bleifed  God -,  not  that  he 
fuffers  himfelf  to  be  directed  by  fitncfs,  when 
"be  can  chufe ^  contrary  to  the  Jitnefs  of  things ,  but 
that  he  cannot  chufe  contrary'  to  thefitnefs  of  things  •, 
as  he  fays,  p.  42; — *£hat  it  is  not poffible  for  God  to- 
att  otherwise  than  ( according  to  this  ftnefs,  where 
there  is  any  fiinefs  or  goodnefs  in  things- :  Yea,  he 
fuppofes,  p.  31.  That  if  a  matt<wer€-perftftiy  i»ijc 

and 


Sect.  VIII.  Of  God's  creating /&  J'Forld,  &c.  33.5^ 

tftf*/  £00^  #£  c0zi/^  «0£  */0  otherwife  tban  be  conjlanily 
and  certainly  determined  by  the  fitnefs  of  things. 

One  thing  more  I  would  obferve,  before  I  COTI- 
clude  this  fe&ion  -9  and  that  is,  that  if  it  dero 
gates  nothing  from  the  glory  of  God,  to  be  ne- 
cefiarily  determined  by  fuperior  iitnefs  in  fome 
things,  then  neither  does  it  to  be  thus  determined 
in  all  things  5  from  any  thing  in  the  nature  of 
fuch  Necemty,  as  at  all  detracting  from  God73 
freedom,  independence,  abfolute  fupremacy,  or 
any  dignity  or  glory  of  his  nature,  tfate  or  man 
ner  of  acting  ;  or  as  implying  any  infirmity,  te- 
ftraint,  or  fubjeclion.  And  if  the  thing  be  fuck 
as  well  confifts  with  God's  glory,  and  has  no 
thing  tending  at  all  to  detracl:  from  it  -,  then  we 
aeed  not  be  afraid  of  afcribing  it  to  God  in  too 
many  things,  left  thereby  we  Ihould  detracl:  from 
God's  glory  too  much. 


SECTION    VIIL 


S&ne  farther  Objections  vgainft  the  moral  Neceffity 
of  GOD'S  Volitions  cvnfideread 

1 1  *HE  Author  laft  cited,  as  has  been  oV 
X  ferved,  owns  that  God,  being  perfectly 
%vife,  will  conftantly  and  certainly  chule  what  ap 
pears  moft  fi.t,  where  there  is  a  ,  fuperior.  fitnefs 
and  goodnefs  in  things  ;  and  th$t  it  is- not  poiBbla 
for  him  to  do  otherwife.  So  that  it  is  in  effect 
confeiled,  that  in  thofe  things  where  there  is  any 
real  preferablenefs,  it  is  no  dilhonour,  nothing  in 
any  refpect  unworthy  of  God,  for  him;  to  2& 
from  Neceflity ;  notwithftanding  all  that  can  be 
objefted  from  the  agreement  of  fuch  a  Neceffity, 

with 


jj6  Of  God's  creating  the  World,  Part  IV. 
with  the  fate  of  the  Stouks,  and  the  Neceffity 
maintained  by  Mr.  Hobbes.  From  which  it  will 
follow,  that  if  it  were  fo,  that  in  all  the  different 
things,  among  which  God  chufes,  there  were 
evermore  a  iuperior  fitnefs  or  preferablenefs  on 
one  fide,  then  it  would  be 'no  dilhonour,  or  any 
thing,  in  any  refpedl,  unworthy,  or  unbecoming 
of  God,  for  his  will  to  be  neceffarily  determined 
in  every  thing.  And  if  this  be  allowed,  it  is  a 
giving  up  entirely  the  argument,  from  the  un- 
fnitablenefs  of  iiich  a  Neceffity  to  the  liberty, 
fupremacy,  independence  and  glory  of  the  Divine 
Being  ;  and.  a  retting  the  whole  weight  of  the 
affair  on  the  decifion  of  another  point  wholly 
divtrfe ;  viz*  Whether  it  be  fo  indeed,  that  in  all 
the  various  poffible  things,  which  are  in  God's 
view,  and  may  be  confidered  as  capable  objects 
of  his  choice,  there  is  not  evermore  a  preferable- 
nefs  in  one  thing  above  another.  This  is  de 
nied  by  this  Author ;  who  fuppofes,  that  in  ma 
ny  inftances,  between  two  or  more  poffible 
things,  which  come  within  the  view  of  the  Di 
vine  Mind,  there  is  a  perfect  indifference  and 
equality,  as  to  fitnefs  or  tendency,  to  attain  any 
good  end  which  God  can  have  in  viexv,  or  to 
anlvver  any  of  his  defigns.  Now,  therefore,  I 
would  confider  whether  this  be  evident. 

The  arguments  brought  to  prove  this,  are  of 
two  kinds,  (i.)  It  is  urged,  that,  in  many  in- 
ilances,  we  mud  fuppofe  there  is  abfolutely  no 
difference  between  various  poffible  objeds-  of 
choice,  which  God  has  in  view:  and  (2.1  that 
the  difference  between  many  things  is  fo  incon- 
fiderable,  or  of  fuch  a  nature,  that  it  would  be 
unreaibnable  to  iuppofe  it  to  be  of  any  confe- 
fjuence  i  or  to  iuppofe  that  any  of  God's  wife  de- 

figns 


Seft.  VIII.     at  fuch  a  Time  and  Place.  337 

figns  would  not  be  anfwered  in  one  way  as  well 
as  the  other. 

Therefore, 

I.  The  fir  ft  thing  to  be  confidered  is,  whether 
there  are  any  infhances  wherein  there  is  a  perfect 
likenefs,  and  abfolutely  no  difference,  between 
different  objects  of  choice,  that  are  propofed  to 
the  Divine  Underftanding  ? 

And  here,  in  the/r/?  place,  it  may  be  worthy 
to  be  confidered,  whether  the  contradiction  there 
is  in  the  terms  of  the  queftion  propofed,  does  not 
give  reafon  to  fufpect,  that  there  is  an  incon- 
fiilence  in  the  thing  fuppoled.  It  is  inquired^ 
whether  different  objects  of  choice  may  not  be 
abfolutely  without  difference  ?  If  they  are  abfo 
lutely  without  difference,  then  how  are  they  different 
objects  of  choice  ?  If  there  be  abfolutely  no  diffe 
rence,  in  any  refpect,  then  there  is  no  variety  or 
diflinttion :  for  diftinction  is  only  by  fome  dif 
ference.  And  if  there  be  no  variety  among  pro 
pofed  objeffs  of  choice,  then  there  is  no  opportu 
nity  for  variety  of  choice,  or  difference  of  determi 
nation.  For  that  determination  of  a  thing,  which 
is  not  different  in  any  refpect,  is  not  a  different 
determination,  but  the  fame.  That  this  is  n<j 
quibble,  may  appear  more  fully  anon. 

The  arguments,  to  prove  that  the  MoftHigh,  in 
fome  inftances,  chufes  to  do  one  thing  rather  than 
another,  where  the  things  themfelves  are  perfectly 
without  difference,  are  two. 

i.  That  the  various  parts  of  infinite  time  and 
fpace,  abfolutely  confidered,  are  perfectly  alike, 
and  do  not  differ  at  all  one  from  another :  and 
that  therefore^  when  God  determined  to  create 

Z  the 


33$  Of  God's  creating  the  world^  &c.  Part  IV. 
the  world  in  fiich  a  part  of  infinite  duration  and 
ipacc,  rather  than  others,  he  determined  and  pre 
ferred,  among  various  objects,  between  which 
there  was  no  preferablenefs,  and  abfolutely  no 
difference. 

Anfw.  This  objection  fuppofes  an  infinite 
length  of  time  before  the  world  was  created, 
diftinguiihed  by  fuccefiive  parts,  properly  and 
truly  fo  ;  or  a  fuccefllpn  of  limited  and  unmea- 
iurable  periods  of  time,  following  one  another, 
in  an  infinitely  long  feries :  which  muft  needs  be 
a  groundlefs  imagination.  The  eternal  duration 
which  was  before  the  world,  being  only  the  eter 
nity  of  God's  exigence  •,  which  is  nothing  elfe 
but  his  immediate,  perfect  and  invariable  poffef- 
fion  of  the  whole  of  his  unlimited  life,  together 
and  at  once ;  Vita  interminabilis^  tota^  fimul  & 
perfecta  poflejfio.  Which  is  fo  generally  allowed, 
that  I  need  not  Hand  to  demonflrate  it.  * 


*  "  If  all  created  beings  were  taken  away,  all  poffibiiity 
of  any  mutation  or  fucceffion,  of  one  thing  to  another, 
would  appear  to  be  alfo  removed.  Abftraft  fucceffion  in 
eternity  is  fcarce  to  be  underilood.  What  is  it  that  fuc- 
ceeds?  One  minute  to  another,  perhaps,  velut  unda  fuper- 
venit  undam.  But  when  we  imagine  this,  we  fancy  that 
the  minutes  are  things  feparately  exiiling.  This  is  the 
common  notion  ;  and  yet  it  is  a  manifeft  prejudice.  Time 
is  nothing  but  the  exigence  of  created  fuccellive  beings, 
and  eternity  the  neceiTary  exigence  of  the  Deity.  Therefore, 
if  this  neceiTary  being  hath  no  change  or  fucceffion  in  his 
nature,  his  exiflence  muft  of  courfe  be  unfucc.effive.  We 
feem  to  commit  a  double  overiight  in  this  cafe ;  foft,  we 
find  fucceffion  in  the  neceflary  nature  and  jexiftence  of  the 
Deity  himfelf :  which  is  wrong,  if  the  reafoning  above  be 
conclufive.  And  then  we  afcribe  this  fucceffion  to  eternity, 
confidered  abitradledly  from  the  Eternal  Being  ;  and  fup- 
pofe  it,  one  knows  not  what,  a  thing  fubiifting  by  itielf, 
and  flowing,  one  minute  after  another.  This  is  the  work 
of  pure  imagination,  and  contrary  to  the  reality  of  things. 

"  Hence 


Seft.  VIII.    at  fab  a  Time  and  Place.  339 

So  this  objection  fuppofes  an  extent  of  fpace 
beyond  the  limits  of  the  creation,  of  an  infi 
nite  length,  breadth  and  depth,  truely  and  pro 
perly  diftinguifhed  into  different  meafurable  parts, 
limited  at  certain  ilages,  one  beyond  another,  in 
an  infinite  feries.  Which  notion  of  abfolute  and 
infinite  fpace  is  doubtlefs  as  unreafonable,  as  that 
now  mentioned,  of  abfolute  and  infinite  duration. 
It  is  as  improper,  to  imagine  that  the  imrrienfity 
and  omniprefence  of  God  is  diftinguimed  by  a 
feries  of  miles  and  leagues,  one  beyond  another ; 
as  that  the  infinite  duration  of  God  is  diftin 
guifhed  by  months  and  years,  one  after  another. 
A  diverfity  and  order  of  diftinct  parts,  limited  by 
certain  periods,  is  as  conceivable,  and  does  as  na 
turally  obtrude  itfelf  on  our  imagination,  in  one 
cafe  as  the  other ;  and  there  is  equal  reafon  in 
each  cafe,  to  fuppofe  that  our  imagination  de 
ceives  us.  It  is  equally  improper,  to  talk  of  months 
and  years  of  the  Divine  Exigence,  and  mile- 
fquares  of  Deity :  and  we  equally  deceive  our- 

"  Hence  the  common  metaphorical  expreiftons ;  Time  runs 
a-pace,  let  us  lay  hold  on  the  prefent  minute,  and  the  like.  The 
philofophers  themfelves  miflead  us  by  their  ill  nitration. 
They  compare  eternity  to  the  motion  of  a  point  running 
on  for  ever,  and  making  a  tracelels  infinite  line*  Here  the 
point  is  fuppofed  a  thing  actually  fubfifting,  reprefenting 
the  prefent  minute ;  and  then  they  afcribe  motion  or  fuc- 
cefiion  to  it :  that  is,  they  afcribe  motion  to  a  meer  non 
entity,  to  illuftrate  to  us  a  fucceifive  eternity,  made  up  of 

finite  fucceflive  parts. If  once  we  allow  an  all -perfect 

mind,  which  hath  an  eternal,  immutable  and  infinite  com- 
prehenfion  of  all  things,  always  (and  allow  it  we  mutt) 
the  diftinftion  of  paft  and  future  vanifhes  with  refped  to 
fuch  a  mind, — In  a  word,  if  we  proceed  ilep  by  ftep,  as 
above,  the  eternity  or  exigence  of  the  Deity  will  appear 
to  be  Pita  interminabilis,  fota,  JJmul  &  perfetta  pcjjej/tz  ; 
how  much  fcever  this  may  have  been  a  paradox  hitherto." 

Enquiry  into  the  Nature  of  the  Human  Soul.   Vol.  ii.  409,  410, 

41 1.  Edit.  3. 

Z  2  fclves, 


340  Of  GOD'S  placing  differently  Part  IV, 
felves,  when  we  talk  of  the  world's  being  diffe 
rently  fix'd,  with  refpect  to  either  of  thefe  forts 
of  meafures.  I  think,  we  know  not  what  we 
mean,  if  we  fay,  the  world  might  have  been  dif 
ferently  placed  from  what  it  is,  in  the  broad  ex- 
panfe  of  infinity  ;  or,  that  it  might  have  been  dif 
ferently  fixed  in  the  long  line  of  eternity  :  and  all 
arguments  and  objections,  which  are  built  on  the 
imaginations  we  are  apt  to  have  of  infinite  exten- 
fion  or  duration,  are  buildings  founded  on  ma- 
clows,  or  caflles  in  the  air. 

2.  The  fecond  argument,  to  prove  that  the 
Moft  High  wills  one  thing  rather  than  another, 
without  any  fuperior  fitnefs  or  preferablenefs  in 
the  thing  preferred,  is  God's  actually  placing  in 
different  parts  of  the  world,  particles,  or  atoms 
of  matter,  that  are  perfectly  equal  and  alike.  The 
ibrementioned  Author  fays,  p.  78,  &c.  "  If  one 
"  would  defcend  to  the  minute  fpecific  particles,, 
"  of  which  different  bodies  are  competed,  we 
"  fliould  fee  abundant  reafon  to  believe,  that  there 
"  are  thoufands  of  fuch  little  particles,  or  atoms 
"  of  matter,  which  are  perfectly  equal  and  alike, 
"  and  could  give  no  diitinct  determination  to  the 
"  Will  of  God,  where  to  place  them."  He  there 
inftances  in  particles  of  water,  of  which,  there 
are  fuch  immenfe  numbers,  which  cornpofe  the 
rivers  and  oceans  of  this  world  ;  and  the  infi 
nite  myriads  of  the  luminous  and  fiery  particles, 
which  corn  po  re  the  body  of  the  Sun;  fo  many, 
that  it  would  be  very  unreafonable  to  iuppofe  no 
two  of  them  fliould  be  exactly  equal  and  alike. 


(i.)  To  this  I  anfvver  :  that  as  we  muft 
fuppofe  matter  to  be  infinitely  divifible,  it  is  vciy 
unlikely,  that  any  two,  of  all  thefe  particles,  are 
exactly  equal  and  alike;  fo  unlikely,  that  it  is  a 

thoufand 


Sect.  VIII.  fimilar  Particles.  34.1' 

thoufand  to  one,  yea,  an  infinite  number  to  one, 
but  it  is  otherwife :  and  that  although  we  fhould 
allow  a  great  fimilarity  between  the  different  par 
ticles  of  water  and  fire,  as  to  their  general  na 
ture  and  figure :  and  however  fmall  we  fuppofe 
thofe  particles  to  be,  it  is  infinitely  unlikely,  that 
any  two  of  them  mould  be  exactly  equal  in  di- 
menfions  and  quantity  of  matter. — If  we  mould 
fuppofe  a  great  many  globes  of  the  fame  nature 
with  the  globe  of  the  earth,  it  would  be  very 
ftrange,  if  there  were  any  two  of  them  that  had 
exactly  the  fame  number  of  particles  of  duft  and 
water  in  them.  But  infinitely  lefs  ftrange,  than 
that  two  particles  of  light  mould  have  juft  the 
fame  quantity  of  matter.  For  a  particle  of  light, 
according  to  the  doctrine  of  the  infinite  divifi- 
bility  of  matter,  is  compofed  of  infinitely  more 
aflignable  parts,  than  there  are  particles  of  duft 
and  water  in  the  globe  of  the  earth.  And  as  it 
is  infinitely  unlikely,  that  any  two  of  thefe  parti 
cles  fhould  be  equal-,  fo  it  is,  that  they  fliould  be 
alike  in  other  refpects :  to  inflance  in  the  confi 
guration  of  their  furfaces.  If  there  were  very  ma 
ny  globes,  of  the  nature  of  the  earth,  it  would  be 
very  unlikely  that  any  two  fliould  have  exactly 
the  fame  number  of  particles  of  duft,  water 
and  ftone,  in  their  furfaces,  and  all  pofited  ex 
actly  alike,  one  with  refpect  to  another,  without 
any  difference,  in  sny  part  difcernible  either  by 
the  naked  eye  or  microfcope ;  but  infinitely  lefs 
ftrange,  than  that  two  particles  of  light  fliould 
be  perfectly  of  the  fame  figure.  For  there  arc 
infinitely  more  affignable  real  parts  on  the  furfaqe 
of  a  particle  of  light,  than  there  are  particles  of 
duft,  water  and  ftone,  on  the  furface  of  the  ter- 
f eft rial  Globe, 

Z  3  4nfw. 


342  Of  Gop's placing  differently     Part  IV. 

Anfw.  (2.)  But  then,  fuppofing  that  there^are 
two  particles,  or  atoms  of  matter,  perfectly  equal 
and  alike,  which  God  has  placed  in  different  parts 
of  the  creation  ;  as  I  will  not  deny  it  to  be   pof- 
iible  for  God  to  make  two  bodies  perfectly  alike, 
and  put  them   in  different  places  \  yet  it  will  not 
follow,   that   two  different  or  diftinct  acts  or  ef 
fects  of  the  Divine  Power  have  exactly  the  fame 
ritnefs   for  the  fame  ends.     For  thefe  two  diffe 
rent  bodies   are  not   different  or  diftinct,  in   any 
other    refpects   than  thofe   wherein    they   differ  : 
they    are  two    in   no  other  refpects    than    thofe 
wherein  there  is  a   difference.     If  they  are  per 
fectly  equal  and  alike  in  tbemfelves,  then  they  can 
be    diftinguifhed,  or  be   diftinct,  only   in    thofe 
tilings  which  are  called   circumftances-,  as  place, 
time,    reft,    motion,  or   fome    other    prefent    or 
paft  circumftances  or  relations.     For  it  is  diffe 
rence  only  that  conftitutes  diftinction.     If  God 
makes  two  bodies,  In  themfelves  every  way  equal 
and  alike,   and  agreeing  perfectly  in  all  other  cir 
cumftances   and   relations,  but   only  their  place  ; 
then  in  this  only  is  there  any  diftinction  or  dupli 
city.     The  figure  is  the  fame,  the  meafure  is  the 
fame.,   the   folidity   and  refiftance   are  the    fame, 
and   every   thing   the  fame,  but  only  the  place. 
Therefore  what  the  W ill  of  God  determines,  is 
this,   namely,   that  there  IJiould   be   the  fame  fi- 
gn-e,    the    fame   extcnfian,    the  fame  refiftance, 
&c.  in  two  different  places.     And  for  this  deter 
mination  he  has   fome   reafon.      There   is  fome 
end,   for  which  fucli    a    determination    and   act 
has  a  peculiar  fitnefs,  above  all  other  acts.     Here 
is  no  one  thing  determined  without  an  end,  and 
no  one  thi.ig  without  a  fitnefs  for  that  ^end,  fu- 
perior  to  any  thing  die.     If  it  be  the  plcafure  of 
God  to  caufc   the  fame  refinance,  and   the  lame 
figure,  to  be  in  two  different  places  and  fituati- 


Sect,  VIII.          fimllar  Particles.  343 

ons,  we  can  no  more  juftly  argue  from  it,  that 
here  niu ft  be  fome  determination  or  act  of  God's 
will,  that  is  wholly  without  motive  or  end,  then 
we  can  argue,  that  whenever,  in  any  cafe  it  is  a 
man's  will   to  fpeak  the  fame  words,  or  make 
the  fame  founds  at  two  different  times  *,    there 
mull:  be  fome  determination  or  act  of  his  will, 
without  any  motive  or  end.     The  difference  of 
place,   in   the  former  cafe,   proves  no  more  than 
the  difference  of  time  does  in  the  other.     If  any 
one  mould  fay,   with  regard  to  the  former  cafe, 
that  there  muft  be  fomething  determined  without 
an  end  -,  viz.   that  of  thofe  two  fimilar   bodies, 
this  in  particular  Ihould  be  made  in  this  place, 
and  the  other  in  the  other,  and  Ihould   enquire, 
why  the  Creator  did  not  make  them   in  a  tranf- 
pofuion,  when  both  are  alike,  and   each  would 
equally  have  fuited  either  place  ?    The  enquiry 
fuppoies  fomething  that  is  not  true  ;  namely,  that 
the  two  bodies  differ  and  are  diftinct  in  other  re- 
fpects  befides   their  place.     So  that  with  this  dif- 
tinclion  inherent  in  them,  they  might,  in  their  firft 
creation,  have  been  tranfpoied,   and  each   might 
have  begun  its  exillence  in  the  place  of  the  other. 

Let  us,  for  clearnefs  fake,  fuppofe,  that  God 
had,  at  the  beginning,  made  two  globes,  each  of 
an  inch  diameter,  both  perfect  fpheres,  and  per 
fectly  folid,  without  pores,  and  perfectly  alike  in 
every  refpect,  and  placed  them  near  one  to  ano 
ther,  one  towards  the  right  hand,  and  the  other 
towards  the  left,  without  any  difference  afs  to 
time,  motion  or  reft,  paft  or  prefent,  or  any 
circumftance,  but  only  their  place  ;  and  the  que 
ll  ion  fhould  be  afked,  why  God  in  their  creation 
placed  themfo?  Why  that  which  is  made  on  the 
right  hand,  was  not  made  on  the  left,  and  vice 
verfa  ?  J^et  it  be  well  confidercd,  whether  there 
Z  4  bo 


^44    Qf  GOD'S  chufing  among  like  Wings  >  P.  IV^ 

be  any  fenfe  in  fuch  a  qnetlion  -,  and  whether  the 
enquiry  does  not  fuppofe  fomething  falfe  and  ab- 
furd.  Ltt  it  be  considered,  what  the  Creator  muft 
have  done  otherwife  than  he  did,  what  different 
act  of  will  or  power  he  muft  have  exerted,  in  or 
der  to  the  thing  propofed.  All  that  could  have 
been  done,  would  have  been  to  have  made  two 
fphercs,  perfectly  alike,  in  the  fame  places  where 
he  has  made  them,  without  any  difference  of  the 
things  made,  either  in  themfelves  or  in  any  circum- 
ftance  -9  fo  that  the  whole  effedl  would  have  been 
without  any  difference,  and,  therefore,  juil  the 
fame.  By  the  fuppofition,  the  two  fpheres  are 
different  in  no  other  refpect  but  their  place  •,  and 
therefore  in  other  refpe&s  they  are  the  fame. 
Each  has  the  fame  roundnefs  •,  it  is  not  a  diftindt 
rotundity,  in  any  other  refpecl  but  its  fituation. 
There  are,  alfo,  the  fame  dimenfions,  differing  in 
nothing  but  their  place.  And  fo  of  their  rcfi- 
ftance,  and  every  thing  elfe  that  belongs  to  them. 

Here,  if  any  chnfes  to  fay,  "  that  there  is  a  dif 
ference  in  another  refpec~t,  viz.  that  they  are  not 
NUMERICALLY  the  fame:  that  it  is  thus 
\vith  all  the  qualities  that  belong  to  them  :  that  it 
is  confefled,  they  are,  in  fomc  refpecls,  the  fame-, 
that  is,  they  are  both  exaclly  alike  •,  'but  yet  nume 
rically  they  differ.  Thus  the  roundnefs  of  one  is 
not  the  fame  numerical^  individual  roundneis  with 
that  of  the  other."  Let  this  be  fuppofed  •,  then 
the  queftion  about  the  determination  of  the  Di 
vine  Will  in  the  affair,  is,  why  did  God  will, 
that  this  individual  roundnefs  mould  be  at  the 
right  hand,  and  the  orher  individual  ronndnefs  at 
the  left  ?  why  did  not  he  make  them  in  a  con 
trary  pofition  ?  Let  any  rational  perfon  coniider, 
whether  fuch  queftions  be  not  words  without  a 
meaning ;  as  much  as  if  God  ihould  fee  fit  for 

fomc 


Sect.  VIIL  and  1'hwgs  of  trivial  Difference.  345 
fome  ends,  to  caufe  the  fame  founds  to  be  repeated, 
or  made  at  two  different  times  ;  the  founds  being 
perfectly  the  fame  in  every  other  refped,  but  only 
one  was  a  minute  after  the  other  ;  and  it  Ihould 
be  alked,  upon  it,  why  God  caufed  thefe  founds, 
numerically  different,  to  fucceed  one  the  other  in 
fuch  a  manner  ?  Why  he  did  not  make  that  indi 
vidual  found,  which  was  in  the  firft  minute,  to  be 
in  the  fecond  ?  And  the  individual  found  of  the 
lad  minute  to  be  in  the  firft ;  which  enquiries 
would  be  even  ridiculous  •,  as,  I  think,  every  per- 
fon  muft  fee,  at  once,  in  the  cafe  propofed  of  two 
founds,  being  only  the  fame  repeated,  abfolutely 
without  any  difference,  but  that  one  circum- 
tfance  of  time.  If  the  Moil  High  fees  it  will 
anfwer  fome  good  end,  that  the  fame  found  fhould 
be  made  by  lightening  at  two  diftinct  times, 
and  therefore  wills  that  it  fhould  be  fo,  muft  it 
needs  therefore  be,  that  herein  there  is  fome  act 
of  God's  will  without  any  motive  or  end  ?  God 
faw  fit  often,  at  diftinct  times,  and  on  different 
occafions,  to  fay  the  very  fame  words  to  Mofes  ; 
namely,  thofe,  lam  Jebovah.  And  would  it  not 
be  unreafonable  to  infer,  as  a  certain  confequence, 
from  this,  that  here  muft  be  fome  act  or  acts  of 
the  Divine  Will,  in  determining  and  difpofing 
thefe  words  exactly  alike,  at  different  times,  wholly 
without  aim  or  inducement  ?  But  it  would  be  no 
more  unreafonable  than  to  fay,  that  there  muft 
be  an  act  of  God's  without  any  inducement,  if 
he  fees  it  beft,  and,  for  fome  reafons,  determines 
that  there  fhall  be  the  fame  refiftance,  the  fame 
dimensions,  and  the  fame  figure,  in  feveral  di 
ftinct  places. 

If,  in  the  inftance  of  the  two  fpheres,  perfectly 
alike,  it  be  fuppofed  poffible  that  God  might  have 
made  them  in  a  contrary  pofition  ;  that  which  is 

made. 


346  Of  Go  D  's  chufing  among  like  Things,  Part  IV. 
made  at  the  right  hand,  being  made  at  the  left; 
then  I  afk,  Whether  it  is  not  evidently  equally 
poffible,  if  God  had  made  but  one  of  them,  and 
that  in  the  place  of  the  right-hand  globe,  that  he 
might  have  made  that  numerically  different  from 
what  it  is,  and  numerically  different  from  what 
he  did  make  it;  though  perfectly  alike,  and  in  the 
fame  place;  and  at  the  fame  time,  and  in  every 
refpect,  in  the  {lime  circumftances  and  relations  ? 
Namely,  Whether  he  might  not  have  made  it 
numerically  the  fame  with  that  which  he  has  now 
made  at  the  left  hand  ;  and  fo  have  left  that 
which  is  now  created  at  the  right  hand,  in  a  ftate 
of  non-exiftence  ?  And,  if  fo,  whether  it  would 
not  have  been  poffible  to  have  made  one  in  that 
place,  perfectly  like  thefe,  and  yet  numerically 
differing  from  both  ?  And  1-et  it  be  confidered, 
whether,  from  this  notion  of  a  numerical  diffe 
rence  in  bodies,  perfectly  equal  and  alike,  which 
numerical  difference  is  lomething  inherent  in  the 
bodies  themfelves,  and  diverfe  from  the  difference 
of  place  or  time,  or  any  circumftance  whatfo- 
cver  ;  it  will  not  follow,  that  there  is  an  infinite 
number  of  numerically  different  pofiible  bodies, 
perfectly  alike,  among  which  God  chufes,  by  a 
felf-deter  mining  power,  when  he  goes  about  to 
create  bodies. 

Therefore  let  us  put  the  cafe  thus  :  Suppofing 
that  God,  in  the  beginning,  had  created  but  one 
perfectly  folid  fphere,  in  a  certain  place  ;  and  it 
ihonld  be  enquired,  Why  God  created  that  indi 
vidual  fphere,  in  that  place,  at  that  time?  And 
why  he  did  not  create  another  fphere  perfectly 
like  it, -but  numerically  different,  in  the  fame 
place,  at  the  fame  time  ?  Or  why  he  chofe  to 
bring  into,  being  there,  that  very  body,  rather 
than  any  of  the  infinite  number  of  other  bodies, 

perfectly 


Sect.  VIII.  and  Things  of  trivial  Difference.  347 
perfectly  like  it-,  either  of  which  he  could  have 
made  there  as  well,  and  would  have  anfwered  his 
end  as  well  ?  Why  he  caufed  to  exift,  at  that 
plac-  and  time,  that  individual  roundnefs,  ra 
ther  than  any  other  of  the  infinite  number  of  in 
dividual  rotundities,  juft  like  it  ?  Why  that  in 
dividual  refinance,  rather  than  any  other  of  the 
infinite  number  of  poffible  refinances  juit  like 
it  ?  And  it  might  as  reafonably  be  alked,  W'hy, 
when  God  firft  caufed  it  to  thunder,  he  caufed 
that  individual  found  then  to  be  made,  and  not 
another  juft.  like  it  ?  Why  did  he  make  choice  of 
this  very  found,  and  reject  all  the  infinite  num 
ber  of  other  poffible  founds  juft  like  it,  but  nu 
merically  differing  from  it,  and  all  differing  one 
from  another  ?  I  think,  every  body  muft  be  fen- 
fible  of  the  abiiirdity  and  nonfenfe  of  what  is 
fuppofed  in  fuch  inquiries.  And,  if  v/e  calmly  at 
tend  to  the  matter,  we  fhall  be  convinced,  that  all 
fuch  kind  of  objections  as  I  am  anfvvering,  are 
founded  on  nothing  but  the  imperfection  of  our 
manner  of  conceiving  things,  and  the  obfcure- 
nefs  of  language,  and  great  want  of  clearnefs 
and  precifion  in  the  fignifkation  of  terms. 

If  any  fhall  find  fault  with  this  reafoning,  that 
it  is  going  a  great  length  into  metaphyfical  ni 
ceties  and  fubtilties  ;  I  anfwer,  the  objection 
which  they  are  in  reply  to,  is  a  metaphyfical 
fubtilty,  and  muft  be  treated  according  to  the 
irature  of  it.  * 

II.  Another  thing  alledged  is,  that  innume 
rable  things  which  are  determined  by  the  Divine 

Will, 

*  "  For  men  to  have  recourfe'to  fubtilties,  hi  railing;  dif- 
"  ficulties,  and  then  complain,  that  they  ihould  be  taken  off 
**  by  minutely  examining  thefe  fubtilties,  is  a  ilrange  kind 
*'  Deprocedure."  Nature  of  the  Human  Soul  ^  vol.2,  p-35*» 


348  0/GoD's  clufing  among  fmall  Matters.  Pt.IV. 
will,  and  chofen  and  done  by  God  rather  than 
others,  differ  from  thofe  that  are  not  chofen  in  fo 
inconfiderable  a  manner,  that  it  would  be  un- 
reafonable  to  fuppofe  the  difference  to  be  of  any 
confequence,  or  that  there. is  any  fuperior  fitnefs 
or  goodnefs,  that  God  can  have  refpecl  to  in  the 
determination. 

To  which  I  anfvver ;  it  is  impofllble  for  us  to 
determine,  with  any  certainty  or  evidence,  that 
becaufe  the  difference  is  very  fmall,  and  appears 
to  us  of  no  confideration,  therefore  there  is  ab- 
folutely  no  fuperior  goodnefs,  and  no  valuable 
end,  which  can  be  propofed  by  the  Creator  and 
Governor  of  the  world,  in  ordering  fuch  a  diffe 
rence.  The  forementioned  author  mentions  many 
inftances.  One  is,  there  being  one  atom  in  the 
whole  univerfe  more,  or  lefs.  But,  I  think,  it 
would  be  unreafcnable  to  fuppofe,  that  God  made 
one  atom  in  vain^  or  without  any  end  or  motive. 
He  made  not  one  atom,  but  what  was  a  work  of 
his  Almighty  Power,  as  much  as  the  whole  globe 
of  the  earth,  and  requires  as  much  of  a  conftant 
exertion  of  Almighty  Power  to  uphold  it-,  and 
was  made  and  is  upheld  underftandingly,  and 
on  defign,  as  much  as  if  no  other  had  been  made 
but  that.  And  it  would  be  as  unreafonable  to 
fuppofe,  that  he  made  it  without  any  thing 
really  aimed  at  in  fo  doing,  as  much  as  to  fup 
pofe,  that  he  made  the  planet  Jupiter  without 
aim  or  delign. 

It  is  poffible,  that  the  moft  minute  effecls  of 
the  Creator's  power,  the  fmalleft  affignable  diffe 
rence  between  the  things  which  God  has  made, 
may  be  attended,  in  the  whole  feries  of  events, 
and  the  whole  compafs  and  extent  of  their  in 
fluence,  with  very  great  and  important  conie- 

i  quences. 


Sect.  VIII.  Necefiity  confiftent  with  free  Grace.  349 

quences.  If  the  laws  of  motion  and  gravitation, 
laid  down  by  Sir  Ifaac  Newton,  hold  univerfally, 
there  is  not  one  atom,  nor  the  leaft  affigoable 
part  of  an  atom,  but  what  has  influence,  every 
moment,  throughout  the  whole  material  univerfe, 
to  caufe  every  part  to  be  otherwife  than  it  would 
be,  if  it  were  not  for  that  particular  corporeal 
exigence.  And  however  the  effect  is  infenfible 
for  the  prefent,  yet  it  may,  in  length  cf  time, 
become  great  and  important. 

To  illu (Irate  this,  let  us  fuppofe  two  bodies 
moving  the  fame  way,  in  ftrait  lines,  perfectly 
parallel  one  to  another  ;  but  to  be  diverted  from 
this  parallel  courfe,  and  drawn  one  from  another, 
as  much  as  might  be  by  the  attraction  of  an  atom, 
at  the  diftance  of  one  of  the  fprtheft  of  the  fixed 
ftars  from  the  earth  ;  thefe':  bodies-  being  turned 
out  of  the  lines  of  their  parallel  motion,  will,  by 
degrees,  get  further  and  further  diftant,  one  from 
the  other;  and  though  the  diftance  may  be  inv 
perceptible  for  a  long  time,  yet  at  length  it  may 
become  very  great.  So  the  revolution  of  a  planet 
round  the  fun  being  retarded  or  accelerated, 
and  the  orbit  of  its  revolution  made  greater  or 
lefs,  and  more  or  lefs  elliptical,  and  fo  its  perio 
dical  time  longer  or  ihorter,  no  more- than  rrmv 
be  by  the  influence  of  the  leaft  atom,  might, 
in  length  of  time,  perform  a  whole  revolution 
fooner  or  later  than  otherwife  it  would  have  done^ 
which  might  make  a  vaft  alteration  with  regard 
to  millions  of  important  events.  So  the  influ 
ence  of  the  leaft  particle  may,  for  ought  we 
know,  have  fuch  effect  on  fomething  in  the  con- 
ftitution  of  fome  human  body,  as  to  caufe  another 
thought  to  ariie  in  the  mind  at  a  certain  time, 
than  otherwife  would  have  been;  which,  in  length 
of  time,  (yea,  and  that  not  very  great)  might  oc- 

caGon 


350     Neceffity  confident  with  free  Grace.  Part  IV,. 

cafion  a  vafl  alteration  through  the  whole  world 
of  mankind.  And  fo  innumerable  other  ways 
might  be  mentioned,  wherein  the  leaft  affignable 
alteration  may  poffibly  be  attended  with  great 
confequences. 

Another  argument,  which  the  fore-mentioned 
author  brings  againft  a  necefTary  determination  of 
the  Divine  Will,  by  a  fuperior  fitnefs,  is,  that  fuch 
doctrine  derogates  from  the  freenefs  of  God's  grace 
and  goodnefs,  in  chufing  the  objects  of  his  favour 
and  bounty,  and  from  the  obligation  upon  men  to 
tkankfulnefs  for  fpecial  benefits.  P.  89, 


In  anfwer  to  this  objection,  I  would  obferve, 

1.  That  it  derogates  no  more  from  the  good- 
nefs  of  God,  to  fuppofe  the  exercife  of  the  bene 
volence  of  his  nature  to  be  determined  by  wif- 
dom,  than  to  fuppofe  it  determined   by  chance, 
and  that  his  favours  are   bellowed  altogether  at 
random,  his  will   being  determined   by  nothing 
but  perfect  accident,  without  any  end  or  defign 
whatibever;  which  muft  be  the  cafe,  as  has  been 
demonftrated,  if  Volition  be  not  determined  by  a 
prevailing  motive.    That  which  is  owing  to  per 
fect  contingence,    wherein  neither  previous    in 
ducement,  nor  antecedent  choice  has  any  hand, 
is   not  owing  more  to  goodnefs  or  benevolence, 
than  that  which  is   owing  to  the  influence  of  a 
wife  end. 

2.  It  is  acknowledged,  that  if  the  motive  that 
determines  the  Will  of  God,  in  the  choice  of  the 
objects  of  his  favours,  be  any  moral  quality  in 
the  object,  recommending  that  object  to  his  be-r 
nevolence  above  others,  his  chufing  that  object  is 
not  Ib  great  a  manifeftation  of  the  freenefs  and 
fovereignty  of  his  Grace,  as  if  it  were  otherwife. 

But 


Se&.VIII.  Neceflity  ccnjijleni  with  free  Grace.  35 1 
But  there  is  noNeceffity  of  fuppofing  this,  in  order 
to  our  fuppofmg  that  he  has  fome  wife  end  in 
view,  in  determining  to  beftow  his  favours  on 
one  pcrfon  rather  than  another.  We  are  to  diftin- 
guifh  between  the  merit  of  the  object  of  God's  Fa 
vour,  or  a  moral  qualification  of  the  objett  attract 
ing  that  favour  and  recommending  to  it,  and  the 
natural  fitnefs  of  fuch  a  determination  of  the  aft  of 
God's  goodnefs,  to  anfwer  fome  wife  defign  of  his 
own,  fome  end  in  the  view  of  God's  Omnifci- 
ence. — It  is  God's  own  act,  that  is  the  proper  and 
immediate  object  of  his  Volition. 

3.  I  fuppofe  that  none  will  deny,  but  that,  in 
fome  instances,  God  acts  from  wile  defign  in  de 
termining  the  particular  fubjects  of  his  favours : 
none  will  fay,  I  prefume,  that  when  God  diitin- 
guifhes,  by  his  bounty,  particular  focieties  or  per- 
fons,  He  never,  in  any  inftance,  cxercifes  any 
wifdom  in  fo  doing,  aiming  at  fome  happy  con- 
fequence.  And,  if  it  be  not  denied  to  be  fo  in  fome 
inftances,  then  I  would  enquire,  whether,  in  thefe 
inftances,  God's  goodnefs  is  lefs  manifefled,  than 
in  thole  wherein  God  has  no  aim  or  end  at  ail  ? 
And  whether  the  fubjects  have  lefs  caufe  of 
thaukfulnefs  ?  And  if  fo,  who  (hall  be  thankful 
for  the  beftowment  of  diftinguifhing  mercy,  with 
that  enhancing  circumfhnce  of  the  difti  net  ion's 
being  made  without  an  end  ?  How  ihall  it  be 
known  when  God  is  influenced  bv  fome  wife  aim, 
and  when  not  ?  It  is  very  manifeil,  with  refpect 
to  the  apoftle  Paul?  that  God  had  wife  ends  in 
chufing  him  to  be  a  Chriftian  and  an  Apoftle, 
who  had  been  a  perfccutor,  ecc.  The  apoule 
himfelf  mentions  one  end.  i  Tim.  i.  15,  16. 
Chrijl  Je/lis  came  into  the  world  to  fave  fmners,  ff 
ivbom  1  am  chief.  Howle.lt 9  for  this  caufc  I  obtained 

m^  that  in  me  frft,  Jcfus  Chrijl  mivbt  ihcw  forth 


Of  Ar  mini  an  Fatality.          Part  IV. 

all  fong-fuffering,  for  a  pattern  to  them  who  Jhould 
hereafter  believe  on  Him  to  life  everlafting.  But  yet 
the  apoftle  never  looked  on  it  as  a  diminution  of 
the  freedom  and  riches  of  Divine  Grace  in  his 
'  election,  which  he  fo  often  and  fo  greatly  mag 
nifies.  This  brings  me  to  obferve, 

4.  Our  fuppofing  fuch  a  moral  Necefllty  in  the 
acts  ©f  God's  will,  as  has  been  fpoken  of,  is  fo 
far  from  neceffarily  derogating  from  the  riches  of 
God's  grace  to  fuch  as  are  the  chofen  objects  of 
his  favour,  that,  in  many  inflances,  this  moral 
Necefllty  may  arife  from  goodnefs,  and  from  the 
great  degree  of  it.  God  may  chufe  this  object 
rather  than  another,  as  having  a.  fuperior  fitnefs 
to  anfwer  the  ends,  clefigns  and  inclinations  of 
his  goodnefs ;  being  more  finful,  and  fo  more 
iniferable  and  neceflltous  than  others ;  the  inclina 
tions  of  Infinite  Mercy  and  Benevolence  may  be 
more  gratified,  and  the  gracious  defign  of  God's 
fending  his  Son  into  the  world,  may  be  more 
abundantly  anfwered,  in  the  exercifes  of  mercy 
towards  fuch  an  object,  rather  than  another. 

One  thing  more  I  would  obferve,  before  I 
finiih  what  I  have  to  fay  on  the  head  of  the  Ne- 
cefiity  of  the  acts  of  God's  will  ^  and  thac  is, 
that  fomething  much  more  like  a  fervile  fub- 
jection  of  the  i)ivine  Being  to  fatal  Neceflity,  will 
follow  from  Armiman  principles,  than  from  the 
doctrines  which  they  oppofe.  For  they  (at  leaft 
moff  of  them)  fuppofe,  with  refpect  to  all  events 
that  happen  in  the  moral  world,  depending  on 
the  Volitions  of  moral  agents,  which  are'the  molt 
important  events  of  the  eniverfe,  to  which  all 
others  are  fubordinate;  I  fay,  they  fuppofe,  with 
rtfpect  to  thefe,  that  God  has  a  certain  foreknow 
ledge  of  them,  antecedent  to  any  purpofes  or 
<krrees  of  his  about  them,  And  if  fo,  they  have  a 

fixed 


Sect.  VIII.      Of  Armlnlan  Fatality.  353 

fixed  certain  futurity,  prior  to  any  defigns  or 
volitions  of  his,  and  independent  on  them,  and 
to  which  his  volitions  mufl  be  fubject,  as  he 
would  wifely  accommodate  his  affairs  to  this  fixed 
futurity  of  the  Hate  of  things  in  the  moral 
world.  So  that  here,  inftead  of  a  moral  necef- 
fity  of  God's  Will,  arifingfrom,  or  confiding  in, 
the  infinite  perfection  and  bleifednefs  of  the  Di 
vine  Being,  we  have  a  fixed  unalterable  ftate  of 
things,  properly  diftincl:  from  the  perfect  nature  of 
the  Divine  Mind,  and  the  ftate  of  the  Divine 
Will  and  Defign,  and  entirely  independent  on 
thefe  things,  and  which  they  have  no  hand  in,  be- 
caufe  they  are  prior  to  them  ;  and  which  God's 
Will  is  truly  fubject  to,  being  obliged  to  conform 
or  accommodate  himfelf  to  it,  in  all  his  purpofes 
and  decrees,  and  in  every  thing  he  docs  in  his 
difpofals  and  government  of  the  world ;  the 
moral  world  being  the  end  of  the  natural ;  fo 
that  all  is  in  vain,  that  is  not  accommodated  to 
that  flate  of  the  moral  \vorld,  which  confitls  in, 
or  depends  upon,  the  acts  and  ftate  of  the  wills 
of  moral  agents,  w^hich  had  a  fixed  futurition 
from  eternity.  Such  a  fubjection  to  neceffity  as 
this,  would  truly  argue  an  inferiority  and  fervi- 
tude,  that  would  be  unworthy  of  the  Supreme 
Being  ;  and  is  much  more  agreable  to  the  notion 
\vhich  many  of  the  heathen  had  of  Fate,  as  above 
the  gods,  than  that  moral  neceiTity  of  fitnefs  and 
wifdom  which  has  been  fpoken  of;  and  is  truly 
repugnant  to  the  abfolute  fovereignty  of  God, 
and  inconfiftent  with  the  fupremacy  of  his  will-, 
and  really  fubjects  the  will  of  the  Molt  High,  to 
the  will  of  his  creatures,  arid  brings  him  into  de 
pendence  upon  them. 


A  a  SECTIOH 


354  9f  the  Objection  about         Part  IV. 

SECTION     IX. 


Concerning  that  Objection  againft  the  Doftrine  which 
has  been  maintained,  that  it  makes  GOD  the 
Author  of  Sin. 

IT  is  urged  by  Armiriians^  that  the  doctrine 
of  the  neceffity  of  men's  volitions,  or  their 
necefiary  connection  with  antecedent  events  and 
circumftances,  makes  the  firft  caufe,  and  fupreme 
orderer  of  all  things,  the  Author  of  Sin  ;  in  that 
he  has  fo  conftituted  the  ftate  and  courfe  of 
things,  that  fmful  volitions  become  necefiary, 
in  confequence  of  his  difpofal.  Dr.  Whiiby^  in 
his  Difcourfe  on  the  Freedom  of  the  Will,  *  cites 
one  of  the  antients,  as  on  his  fide,  declaring  that 
this  opinion  of  the  neceffity  of  the  will  "  ab- 
"  folves  Sinners,  as  doing  nothing  of  their  own 
"  accord  which  was  evil,  and  would  caft  all  the 
"  blame  of  all  the  wickednefs  committed  in  the 
"  world,  upon  God,  and  upon  his  Providence, 
"  if  that  were  admitted  by  the  afTertors  of  this 
"  fate ;  whether  he  himfelf  did  neceffitate  them 
"  to  do  theie  things,  or  ordered  matters  fo,  that 
"  they  ftiould  be  conilrained  to  do  them  by  fome 
"  other,  caufe."  And  the  doctor  fays,  in  another 
place,  -f  "  In  the  nature  of  the  thing,  and  in 
"  the  opinion  of  philoibphers,  caufa  deficient^  in 
<6  rebus  neceffariis,  ad  caujam  per  fe  efficient  em  re- 
*c  ducenda  eft.  In  things  neceflary,  the  deficient 
"  caufe  mull  be  reduced  to  the  efficient.  And 
"  in  this  cafe  the  reafon  is  evident  j  becaufe  the 
"  not  doing  what  is  required,  or  not  avoiding 
"  what  is  forbidden,  being  a  defedt,  muil  follow 

*  On  the  five  Points,  p.  361.          f  Ibid.  p.  486. 

"  from 


Sect.  IX.  making  God  the  Author  of  Sin.  355 
"  from  thepofition  of  the  necefTary  caufe  of  that 
"  deficiency." 

Concerning  this,  I  would  obferve  the  following 
things. 

I.  If  there  be  any  difficulty  in  this  matter,  it  is 
nothing  peculiar  to  this  fcheme  -,  it  is  no  difficulty 
or  difadvantage,  wherein  it  is  diftinguifhed  from 
thejcheme  of  Armlnlans  ;  and,  therefore,  not  rea- 
ibnably  objected  by  them. 

Dr.  Whitly  fuppofes,  that  if  Sin  necefTarily 
follows  from  God's  withholding  affiftance,  or  if 
that  affiftance  be  not  given,  which  is  abfolutely 
neceflary  to  the  avoiding  of  Evil ;  then,  in  the  na 
ture  of  the  thing,  God  muft  be  as  properly  the 
Author  of  that  Evil,  as  if  he  were  the  efficient 
caufe  of  it.  From  whence,  according  to  what  he 
himfelf  fays  of  the  devils  and  damned  fpirits, 
God  muft  be  the  proper  Author  of  their  perfect 
unreftrained  wickednefs  :  he  muft  be  the  efficient 
caufe  of  the  great  pride  of  the  devils,  and  of 
their  perfect  malignity  againft  God,  Chrift,  his 
faints,  and  all  that  is  good,  and  of  the  infatiable 
cruelty  of  their  difpofition.  For  he  allows,  that 
God  has  fo  forfaken  them,  and  does  fo  withhold 
his  affiftance  from  them,  that  they  are  incapaci 
tated  from  doing  good,  and  determined  only  to 
evil.  *  Our  doctrine,  in  its  confequence,  makes 
God  the  Author  of  men's  Sin  in  this  world,  no 
more,  and  in  no  other  fenfe,  than  his  doctrine, 
in  its  confequence,  makes  God  the  Author  of  the 
hellim  pride  and  malice  of  the  devils.  And  doubt- 
lefs  the  latter  is  as  odious  an  effect  as  the  former. 

Again,  if  it  will  follow  at  #//,   that   God  is 
the  Author  of  Sin,  from  what  has  been  fuppofed 
*  On  the  five  Points,  p.  302.  305. 

A  a  2  of 


356  How  GOD  is  concerned        Part  IV. 

of  a  fure  and  infallible  connexion  between  ante 
cedents  and  confequents,  it  will  follow  becaufe  of 
this,  viz.  that  for  God  to  be  the  Author  or  Order- 
erofthofe  things  which,  he  knows  before-hand, 
will  infallibly  be  attended,  with  fuch  a  confe- 
quence,  is  the  fame  thing,  in  effect,  as  for  him  to 
be  the  Author  of  that  confequence.  But,  if  this 
be  fo,  this  is  a  difficulty  which  equally  attends 
the  doctrine  of  Arminians  themfelves  •,  at  leaft,  of 
thofe  of  them  who  allow  God's  certain  fore- know 
ledge  of  all  events.  For,  on  the  fuppofition  of 
fuch  a  fore-knowledge,  this  is  the  cafe  with  refpect 
to  every  Sin  that  is  committed  :  God  knew,  that 
if  he  ordered  and  brought  to  pafs  fuch  and  fuch 
events,  fuch  Sins  would  infallibly  follow.  As 
for  infiance,  God  certainly  foreknew,  long  before 
Judas  was  born,  that  if  he  ordered  things  fo,  that 
there  fhould  be  fuch  a  man  born,  at  fuch  a  time, 
and  at  fuch  a  place,  and  that  his  life  mould  be 
preferved,  and  that  he  fhould,  in  Divine  Provi 
dence,  be  led  into  acquaintance  with  Jefus  ;  and 
that  his  heart  mould  be  fo  influenced  by  God's 
Spirit  or  Providence,  as  to  be  inclined  to  be  a 
follower  of  Chrift ;  and  that  he  mould  be  one 
of  thofe  twelve,  which  mould  be  chofen  conflant- 
ly  to  attend  him  as  his  family  ;  and  that  his 
health  fhould  be  preferved,  fo  that  he  mould  go 
up  to  Jerufalem,  at  the  laft  Paffover  in  (Thrift's 
life;  and  it  fhould  be  fo  ordered,  that  Judas  fhould 
fee  Chrift's  kind  treatment  of  the  woman  which 
anointed  him  at  Bethany,  and  have  that  reproof 
from  Chrift,  which  he  had  at  that  time,  and  fee 
and  hear  other  things,  which  excited  his  enmity 
againit  his  Mafter,  and  other  circumftances  mould 
be  ordered,  as  they  were  ordered ;  it  would  be 
what  would  moft  certainly  and  infallibly  follow, 
that  Judas  would  betray  his  Lord,  and  would  foon 

after 


Sect.  IX.         in  tbe  Exiftence  of  Sin.  357 

after  hang  himfelf,  and  die  impenitent,  and  be 
fent  to  hell,  for  his  horrid  wickedneis. 

Therefore,  this  fuppofed  difficulty  ought  not 
to  be  brought  as  an  objection  againft  the  fcheme 
which  has  been  maintained,  as  disagreeing  with  the 
Arminian  fcheme,  feeing  it  is  no  difficulty  owing 
to  fuch  a  difagreement ;  but  a  difficulty  wherein 
the  Armlnians  fhare  with  us.  That  mufl  be  un- 
reafonably  made  an  objection  againft  our  differ 
ing  from  them,  which  we  mould  not  efcape  or 
avoid  at  all  by  agreeing  with  them. 

And  therefore  I  would  obferve, 
II.  They  who  object,  that  this  doctrine  makes 
God  the  Author  of  Sin,  ought  diftinctly  to  ex 
plain  what  they  mean  by  that  phrafe,  The  Author 
of  Sin.  I  know  the  phrafe,  as  it  is  commonly 
ufed,  fignifies  fomething  very  ill.  If  by  tbe  Au 
thor  of  Sin^  be  meant  the  Sinner,  the  Agent^  or  Ac 
tor  of  Sin,  or  tbe  Doer  of  a  wicked  thing  \  fo  it 
would  be  a  reproach  and  blafphemy,  to  fuppofe 
God  to  be  the  Author  of  Sin.  In  this  fenfc,  I 
utterly  deny  God  to  be  the  Author  of  Sin ;  re 
jecting  fuch  an  imputation  on  the  Moft  High,  as 
what  is  infinitely  to  be  abhorred;  and  deny  any 
fuch  thing  to  be  the  confequence  of  what  I  have 
laid  down.  But  if,  by  the  Autbcr  of  Sin,  is  meant 
the  permitter,  or  not  a  hinde.rer  of  Sin  •,  and,  at 
the  fame  time,  a  difpofer  pf  the  Hate  of  events, 
in  fuch  a  manner,  for  wife,  holy,  and  moft  excel 
lent  ends  and  purpofes,  that  Sin,  if  it  be  permit 
ted  or  not  hindered,  will  moft  certainly  and  in 
fallibly  follow :  I  fay,  if  this  be  all  that  is  meants 
by  being  the  Author  of  Sin,  I  do  not  deny  that 
God  is  the  Author  of  Sin,  (though  I  diflike  and 
reject  the  phrafe,  as  that  which  by  ufe  and  cuf- 
tom  is  apt  to  carry  another  fenfe)  it  is  no  reproach 
A'a-  for 


358  How  GOD  is  concerned        Part  IV. 

for  the  Moft  High  to  be  thus  the  Author  of  Sin. 
This  is  not  to  be  the  Aftor  of  Sin,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  of  holinefs.  What  God  doth  herein,  is 
holy ;  and  a  glorious  exercife  of  the  infinite  ex 
cellency  of  his  nature.  And,  I  do  not  deny,  that 
God's  being  thus  the  Author  of  Sin,  follows  from 
what  I  have  laid  down  •,  and,  I  afFert,  that  it 
equally  follows  from  the  doctrine  which  is  main 
tained  by  moft  of  the  Arminlan  divines. 

That  it  is  moft  certainly  fo,  that  God  is  in  fuch 
a  manner  the  Difpofer  and  Orderer  of  Sin,  is 
evident,  if  any  credit  is  to  be  given  to  the  Scrip 
ture  •,  as  well  as  becaufe  it  is  impoflible,  in  the  na 
ture  of  things,  to  be  otherwife.  In  fuch  a  manner 
God  ordered  the  obilinacy  of  Pharaoh^  in  his  re- 
fufing  to  obey  God's  Commands,  to  let  the  peo 
ple  go.  Exod.  iv.  21.  1  will  harden  his  heart,  and 
be  Jloall  not  let  the  people  go.  Chap.  vii.  2 — 5.  Aaron 
thy  brother  fodlfpeak  unto  Pharaoh,  that  he  fend  the 
children  of  Ifrael  out  of  his  land.  And  I  will  harden 
Pharaoh's  heart,  and  multiply  my  figns  and  my  won 
ders  in  the  land  of,  Egypt.  But  Pharaoh  Jhall  not 
hearken  unto  you ;  that  I  may  lay  mine  hand  upon 
Egypt,  ly  great  judgments^  &c.  Chap.  ix.  12. 
And  the  Lord  hardened  the  heart  of  Pharaoh,  and  he 
hearkened  not  unto  them,  as  the  Lord  hadfpoken  unto 
Mofes.  Chap.  x.  i,  2.  And  the  Lord  faid  unto 
Mofes,  Go  in  unto  Pharaoh  ;  for  I  have  hardened 
his  heart,  and  the  heart  of  his  fervants,  that  I  might 
Jhew  theft3  my  Jigns  before  him^  and  that  thou  mayft 
tell  it  in  the  ears  of  thy  fon,  and  thy  fon'sfon,  what 
things  1  have  wrought  in  Egypt,  and  my  Jigns  which 
1  have  done  amon?ft  them^  that  ye  may  knew  that  I 
am  the  Lord,  Chap.  xiv.  4.  And  I  will  harden 
Pharaoh's  hearty  that  he  Jhall  follow  after  them :  and 
I  will  be  honoured  iipon  Pharaoh,  and  upon  all  his 
Hojl  Ver.  8.  And  the  Lord  hardened  the  heart  of 

Pharaoh 


Seft.  IX.     in  the  Exiftence  of  Sin'.  359 

Pharaoh  King  of  Egypt,  and  he  purfued  after  the 
Children  of  Ifracl.    And  it  is  certain,  that  in  fuch 
a  manner  God,  for  wife  and  good  ends,  ordered 
that  event,  Jofeph's  being  fold  into  Egypt,  by  his 
brethren.     Gen.  xlv.  5.    Now,   therefore,  be    not 
grieved,  nor  angry  zvith  yourfehes,  that  ye  jold  me  hi- 
ther;  for  God  did  fend  me  before  you  to  preferve  life. 
Ver.  7,  8.  God  did  fend  me  before  you  to  prejerve  a 
pofterliy  in  the  earth,  and  tofaveyour  lives  by  a  great 
deliverance:  fo  that  now  it  was  not  you,  that  fent  me 
hither,  but  God.    Pfal.  cvii.  17.  He  fent  a  man  be 
fore  them,  even  Jofeph,  who  was  fold  for  a  fervant. 
It  is  certain,   that  thus  God  ordered  the  Sin  and 
Folly  of  Slbon  King  of  the  Amorites,  in  refufmg 
to  let  the  people  of  Ifracl  pafs  by  him  peaceably. 
Deut.  ii.  30.  But  Sihon  King  of  Hefhbon  would 
not  let  us  pafs  by  him ;  for  the  Lord  thy  God  hardened 
•hisfpirit,  and  made  his  heart  objlinate,  that  he  might 
deliver  him  into  thine  hand.      It  is   certain,  that 
God  thus  ordered  the  Sin  and  Folly  of  the  Kings 
of  Canaan,  that  they  attempted  not  to  make  peace 
with  Ifrael^  but,  with  a  ftupid  boldnefs  and  obfti- 
nacy,  let  themfelves  violently  to  oppofe  them  and 
their  God.  Jom.  xi.  20.   For  it  was  of  the  Lord, 
to  harden  their  hearts,  that  they  ftould  come  again/I 
Ifrael  in  battle,  that  he  might  deftroy  them  utterly, 
and  that  they  might  have  no  favour ;  but  that  he 
might  dejlroy  them,  as  the  Lord  commanded  Mofes. 
It  is  evident,  that  thus  God  ordered  the  treach 
erous  rebellion  of  Zedekiah  againft  the  King  of 
•Babylon.    Jer.  Hi.  3.    For  through  the  anger  of  the 
Lord  it  came  to  pafs  in  Jerufalem,  and  Judah,  un 
til  he  had  cafl  them  out  from  his  prejence,  that  Zede- 
kiah  rebelled  again/}  the  King  of  Babylon.  So  2  Kings 
xxiv.  20.  And  it  is  exceeding  manifeft,  that  God 
thus  ordered  the  rapine  and  unrighteous  ravages 
of  Nebuchadnezzar,  in   fpoiling  and  ruining  the 
nations  round  about.    Jer.  xxv.  9.  Behold,  I  wi 
A  a  4 


360  How  GOD  is  concerned         Part  IV. 

fend  and  take  all  the  families  of  the  north,  faith  the 
Lord,  and  Nebuchadnezzar  my  fervant,  and  will 
bring  them  again/I  this  land,  and  againft  all  the  na 
tions  round  about ;  and  will  utterly  deflroy  them,  and 
make  them  an  aftonifloment,  and  an  hijfing,  and  per - 
fetual  defolalions.  Chap,  xljii.  10,  n.  I  will  fend 
and  take  Nebuchadnezzar  the  king  0/ Babylon,  my 
fervant:  and  I  will  fet  his  throne  upon  theje  ftones 
that  I  have  bid,  and  he  Jhall  fpread  his  royal  pavilion 
over  them.  And  when  he  cometh,  he  Jhall  fmite  the 
land  of  Egypt,  and  deliver  fuch  as  are  for  death  to 
death,  and  juch  as  are  for  captivity  t&  captivity, 
and  fuch  as  are  for  the  fword  to  the  fword.  Thus 
God  reprefents  himfelf  as  fending  for  Nebuchadnez 
zar,  and  taking  of  him  and  his  armies,  and  bring" 
ing  him  againit  the  nations,  which  were  to  be  de- 
flroyed  by  him,  to  that  very  end,  that  he  might 
utterly  deft roy  them,  and  make,  them  defolate; 
arid  as  appointing  the  work  that  he  mould  do* 
fo  particularly,  that  the  very  perfons  were  defign- 
ed,  that  he  ihould  kill  with  the  fword  ;  and  thole 
that  mould  be  killed  with  famine  and  peftilence, 
and  thofe  that  mould  be  carried  into  captivity ; 
and  that  in  doing  all  thefe  things,  he  mould  a<5t 
as  his  fervant  -,  by  which,  lefs  cannot  be  intended, 
than  that  he  mould  ferve  his  purpofes  and  deT 
figns.  And  in  Jer.  xxvii.  4,  5,  6.  God  declares, 
how  he  would  caufe  him  thus  to  ferve  his  de- 
figns,  viz.  by  bringing  this  to  pafs  in  his  fove- 
reign  difpofals,  as  the  great  PofTefTor  and  Gover 
nor  of  the  Univerfe,  that  difpoies  all  things  juft 
as  pleafes  him.  Thus  faith  the  Lord  of  Hqfts,  the 
God  of  Ifrael  -,  1  have  made  the  earth,  the  man  and 
the-  be  aft,  that  are  upon  the  ground,  by  my  great 
•pcwzr,  -and  my  Jlretched  out  arm,  and  have  given  it 
unto,  whom  itfeemed.  meet  unto  -me  :  and  now  I  have 
given  all  ihefc  lands  into  the  hands  of  Nebuchad 
nezzar.  MY  SERVANT,  and  the  beafts  of  the 

field 


SeQ:.  IX.       in  the  Exiftencc  of  Sin.  361 

field  have  I  given  alfo  fo.ferve  him.  And  Nebuchad 
nezzar  is  fpoken  of  as  doing  thefe  things,  by 
having  his  arms  ftrengthened  by  God,  and  having 
God's  fword  put  into  his  hands^  for  this  end.  Ezek. 
xxx.  24,  25,  26.  Yea,  God  ipeaks  of  his  terri 
bly  ravaging  and  wafting  the  nations,  and  cru 
elly  deflroying  all  forts,  without  diftinclion  of  fex 
or  age,  as  the  weapon  in  God's  hand,  and  the  in- 
(Irument  of  his  indignation,  which  God  makes  uic 
of  to  fulfil  his  own  purpofes,  and  execute  his  own 
vengeance.  Jer.  li.  20,  &c.  I'hou  art  my  lattle-axe, 
and  weapons  of  war.  For  with  thee  will  I  break  in 
pieces  the  nations,  and  with  thee  I  willdeftroy  kingdoms* 
and  with  thee  I  will  break  in  pieces  the  horfe  and  his 
rider,  and  with  thee  I  will  break  in  pieces  the  chariot 
and  his  rider ;  with  thee  alfo  will  I  break  in  pieces  man 
and  woman  \  and  with  thee  will  I  break  in  pieces  old 
and  young  ;  and  with  thee  will  1  break  in  pieces  the 
young  man  and  the  maid,  &c.  It  is  reprefented,  that 
the  defigns  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  and  thofe  that  de- 
flroyed  Jerufalem,  never  could  have  been  accom- 
plifhed,  had  not  God  determined  them,  as  well  as 
they;  Lam,  iii.  37.  Who  is  he  that  faith,  and  it 
cometh  to  pafs,  and  the  Lord  commandeth  it  not?  And 
yet  the  King  of  Babylon's  thus  deftroying  the  na 
tions,  and  efpecially  the  Jews^  is  fpoken  of  as  his 
great  wickednefs,  for  which  God  finally  deftroyed 
him.  Ifa.  xiv.  4,  5,  6,  12.  Hob.  ii.  5,— 12.  and 
Jer.  chap.  1.  and  li.  It  is  moft  manifeft,  that  God, 
to  ferve  his  own  defigns,  providentially  ordered 
Shlmel's  curling  David.  2  Sam.  xvi.  10,  i  r.  The 
Lord  hath  faid  unto  him,  curfe  David. — Let  him 
curfe,  for  the  Lord  hath  bidden  him. 

It  is  certain,  that  God  thus,  for  excellent,  holy, 
gracious  and  glorious  ends,  ordered  the  fad; 
which  they  committed,  who  were  concerned  in 

Chrift's 


362  How  GOD  is  concerned      Part  IV. 

(Thrift's  death  ;  and  that  therein  they  did  but  ful 
fil  God's  defigns.  As,  I  truft,  no  Chriftian  will 
deny  it  was  the  defign  of  God,  that  Chrilt  Ihould 
be  crucified,  and  that  for  this  end,  he  came  into 
the  world.  It  is  very  manifeft,  by  many  Scrip 
tures,  that  the  whole  affair  of  Chrift's  crucifixion, 
with  its  circumftances,  and  the  treachery  of  Judas, 
that  made  way  for  it,  was  ordered  in  God's 
Providence,  in  pursuance  of  his  purpofc  ;  not- 
withftanding  the  violence  that  is  uied  with  thofe 
plain  Scriptures,  toobfcure  and  pervert  the  fenfe 
of  them.  Acts  ii.  23.  Him  being  delivered,  by  the 
determinate  counfel  and  foreknowledge  of  God,  *ye 
have  taken,  and  with  wicked  hands,  have  crucified 
andfiain.  ^  Luke  xxii.  21,  22.  \  But  behold  the 
hand  of  him  that  letrayeth  me,  is  with  me  on  the 
table :  and  truly  the  Son  of  Man  goeth,  as  it  was 
determined.  A6h  iv.  27,  28.  For  of  a  truth, 
agalnft  the  holy  child  Jefus,  whom  thou  haft  anointed, 
both  Herod,  and  Pontius  Pilate,  with  the  Gentiles, 
and  the  people  of  Ifrael,  were  gathered  together,  for 
/a  do  whatsoever  thy  hand  and  thy  counfel  determined 
before  to  be  done.  Ads  iii.  17,  18.  And  now,  bre 
thren,  I  wot  that  through  ignorance  ye  did  it,  as  did 

'•'  Grot  his,  as  well  as  Btza,  obferves,  vrpyoto-it  muft 
here  fignify  decree  ;  and  Elfner  has  mewn  that  it  has  that 
fignification,  in  approved  Greek  writers.  And  it  is  cer 
tain  ijt3£r&  fignifies  one  given  up  into  the  hands  of  an 
enemy."  Dodelridge  in  Loc. 

t  "  As  this  paffage  is  not  liable  to  the  ambiguities,  which 
iome  have  apprehended  in  Atls  ii.  23.  and  iv.  28.  (which 
yet  Teem  on  the  whole  to  be  parallel  to  it,  in  their  molt 
natural  conftruclion)  I  look  upon  it  as  an  evident  proof, 
that  thefe  things  are,  in  the  language  of  Scripture,  faid 
to  be  determined  or  decreed  (or  exaftly  bounded  and 
marked  out  by  God,  as  the  word  u^u  moil  naturally  fi<r. 
nihes)  which  he  fees  in  fad  will  happen,  in  conlequence 
of  his  volitions,  without  any  neceffitating  agency;  as  well 
as  thofe  events,  of  which  he  is  properly  the  Author  " 
Dodd  in  LGC. 

alfo 


Sea.  IX.      '  ^  tie  Exiftence  of  Sin.  363 

alfo  your  rulers :  but  thefe  things,  which  God  before 
had  /hewed  by  the  mouth  of  all  Us  prophets^  that 
Chriftjhouldjuffer^  he  hath  fo  fulfilled.  So  that  what 
thefe  murderers  of  Chrift  did,  is  fpoken  of  as 
what  God  brought  to  pafs  or  ordered,  and  that 
by  which  he  fulfilled  his  own  word, 

In  Rev.  xvii.  1 7.  Tloe  agreeing  of  the  Kings  of  the 
earth  to  give  their  kingdom  to  the  beaft,  though  it 
was  a  very  wicked  thing  in  them,  is  fpoken  of  as 
a  fulfilling  God's  Will^  and  what  God  had  put  into 
their  hearts  to  do.  It  is  mamfeft,  that  God  fome- 
times  permits  Sin  to  be  committed,  and  at  the 
fame  time  orders  things  fo,  that  if  he  permits  the 
fad,  it  will  come  to  pafs,  becaufe,  on  fome  ac 
counts,  he  fees  it  needful  and  of  importance,  that 
it  fhould  come  to  pafs.  Matt,  xviii.  7.  //  mujt 
needs  be,  that  offences  come  •,  but  wo  to  that  man  by 
whom  the  offence  cometh.  With  i  Cor.  xi.  19.  For 
there  mujl  alfo  be  henfies  among  you,  that  they  which 
are  approved  may  be  made  manifejl  among  you. 

Thus  it  is  certain  and  demonftrable,  from  the 
holy  Scriptures,  as  well  as  the  nature  of  things, 
and  the  principles  of  Arminians,  that  God  permits 
Sin  •,  and  at  the  fame  time,  fo  orders  things,  in 
his  Providence,  that  it  certainly  and  infallibly  will 
come  to  pafs,  in  confequence  of  his  permifTion. 

I  proceed  to  obferve  in  the  next  place, 
III.  That  there  is  a  great  difference  between 
God's  being  concerned  thus,  by  his  permiffion,  in 
an  event  and  act,  which,  in  the  inherent  fubject 
and  agent  of  it,  is  Sin,  (though  the  event  will 
certainly  follow  on  his  ptrmifTion)  and  his  being 
concerned  in  it  by  producing  it  and  exerting  the 
act  of  Sin  \  or  between  his  being  the  Orderer  of 
its  certain  exiftence,  by  not  hindering  it,  under 

certain 


364  &ow   GOD  is  concerned      Part  IV. 

certain  circumftances,  and  his  being  the  proper 
Attor  or  Author  of  it,  by  a  pojitive  Agency  or  Effi 
ciency.   And  this,  notwithftanding  what  Dr.  Wkitby 
offers  about  a  laying  of  philofophers,  that  caufa 
deficient^  in  rebus  neceffariis,  ad  catifam  per  fe  ejfici- 
entem  rcducenda  eft.    As  there  is  a  vaft  diiference 
between  the  fun's  being  the   caufe   of  the  light- 
fomenefs   and  warmth  of  the  atmofphere,  and 
brightnefs   of  gold  and  diamonds,    by  its  pre- 
fence  and  pofitive  influence  ;  and  its  being  the 
occafion  of  darknefs  and   froft,    in    the   night, 
by  its  motion,  whereby  it  defcends  below  the 
horizon.     The  motion  of  the  fun  is  the  occa 
fion  of  the  latter  kind  of  events ;  but  it  is  not 
the  proper  caufe,  efficient  or  producer  of  them  ; 
though  they  are  neceflarily  confequent  on  that 
motion,  under  fuch  circumfrances :  no  more  is 
any  action  of  the  Divine  Being  the  Caufe  of  the 
Evil  of  men's  wills.     If  the  fun  were  the  proper 
caufe  of  cold  and  darknefs,  it  would  be  the  foun 
tain  -of  thefe  things,  as  it  is  the  fountain  of  light 
and  heat :  and  then  fomething  might  be  argued 
from    the   nature  of  cold    and   darknefs,    to  a 
likenefs  of  nature  in  the  fun ;  and  it  might  be 
juftly  inferred,  that  the  fun  itfelf  is  dark  and 
cold,  and  that  his  beams  are  black  and  frofty. 
But  from  its  being  the  caufe  no  otherwife  than  by 
its  departure,  no  fuch  thing  can  be  inferred,  but 
the  contrary  ;    it  may  juftly  be  argued,  that  the 
fun  is  a  bright  and  hot  body,  if  cold  and  dark 
nefs  are  found  to  be  the  confcquence  of  its  with- 
drawment ;  and  the  more  conftantly  and  necef- 
farily  thefe  effects  are  connected  with,  and  confined 
to  its  abience,  the  more  ftrongly  does  it  argue 
the  fun   to  be  the  fountain  of  light  and  heat. 
So,  inafmuch  as  Sin  is  not  the  Fruit  of  any  pofi 
tive  Agency  or  Influence  of  the  Mod  High,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  arifes  from  the  withholding  of  his 

adtion 


Seel.  IX.         in  the  Exiftence  of  Sin.  36$ 

aftion  and  energy,  and,  under  certain  circum- 
ftances,  neceflarily  follows  on  the  want  of  his  in 
fluence;  this  is  no  argument  that  he  is  finful,  or 
his  operation  evil,  or  has  any  thing  of  the  nature 
of  Evil ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  that  He,  and  his 
Agency,  are  altogether  good  and  holy,  and  that 
He  is  the  Fountain  of  all  Holinefs.  It  would 
be  ftrange  arguing,  indeed,  becauie  men  never 
commit  Sin,  but  only  when  God  leaves  them  to 
tbemfehes,  and  neceflarily  fin,  when  he  does  ib, 
and  therefore  their  Sin  is  not  from  tbemfehes^  but 
from  God ;  and  fo,  that  God  muft  be  a  finful 
Being;  as  ftrange  as  it  would  be  to  argue,  be- 
caufe  it  is  always  dark  when  the  fun  is  gone,  and 
never  dark  when  the  fun  is  prefent,  that  therefore 
all  darkneis  is  from  the  fun,  and  that  his  difk  and 
beams  muft  needs  be  black. 

IV.  It  properly  belongs  to  the  Supreme  and 
Abfolute  Governor  of  the  Univerfe,  to  order  all 
important  events  within  his  dominion,  by  his 
wifdom :  but  the  events  in  the  moral  world  are 
of  the  moft  important  kind  ;  fuch  as  the  moral 
actions  of  intelligent  creatures,  and  their  confe- 
quences. 

Thefe  events  will  be  ordered  by  fomething. 
They  will  either  be  difpofed  by  wifdom,  or  they 
will  be  difpofed  by  chance;  that  is,  they  will  be 
difpofed  by  blind  and  undefigning  caufes,  it  that 
were  poflible,  and  could  be  called  adifpofal.  Is 
it  not  better,  that  the  good  and  evil  which  hap 
pens  in  God's  world,  mould  be  ordered,  regu 
lated,  bounded  and  determined  by  the  good  pka- 
fure  of  an  infinitely  wife  Being,  who  perfectly 
comprehends  within  his  understanding  and  con 
front  view,  the  univerfality  of  things,  in  all 
their  excent  and  duration,  and  fees  all  the  influ 
ence 


$66  How  GOD  is  concerned     Part IV. 

cnce  of  every  event,  with  refpect  to  every  indi 
vidual  thing  and  circumftance,  throughout  the 
grand  fyftem,  and  the  whole  of  the  eternal  feries 
of  confequences  ;  than  to  leave  thefe  things  to 
fall  out  by  chance,  and  to  be  determined  by  thofe 
caufes  which  have  no  understanding  or  aim  ?. 
Doubtlefs,  in  thefe  important  events,  there  is  a 
better  and  a  worfe,  as  to  the  time,  f object, 
place,  manner  and  circum fiances  of  their  com 
ing  to  pafs,  with  regard  to  their  influence  on  the 
itate  and  courfe  of  things.  And  if  there  be,  it  is 
certainly  belt  that  they  mould  be  determined  to 
that  time,  place,  &c.  which  is  bell.  And  there 
fore  it  is  in  its  own  nature  fit,  that  wifdom,  and 
not  chance,  mould  order  thefe  things.  So  that 
it  belongs  to  the  Being,  who  is  the  PofTefTor  of 
infinite  Wifdom,  and  is  the  Creator  and  Owner 
of  the  whole  fyftem  of  created  exigences,  and 
has  the  care  of  all ;  I  fay,  it  belongs  to  him,  to 
take  care  of  this  matter  \  and  he  would  not  do 
what  is  proper  for  him,  if  he  fhould  neglect  it. 
And  it  is  fo  far  from  being  unholy  in  him,  to  un 
dertake  this  affair,  that  it  would  rather  have  been 
unholy  to  neglect  it ;  as  it  would  have  been  a 
neglecting  what  fitly  appertains  to  him  ;  and  fo 
it  wrould  have  been  a  very  unfit  and  unfuitablc 
neglect. 

Therefore  the  fovereignty  of  God  doubtlcfs  ex 
tends  to  this  matter:  efpecially  confidering,  that 
if  it  fhould  be  fuppofed  to  be  otherwife,  and  God 
ihould  leave  men's  volitions,  and  all  moral  events, 
to  the  determination  and  difpolition  of  blind 
unmeaning  caufes,  or  they  fhould  be  left  to 
happen  perfectly  without  a  caufe  ;  this  would 
be  no  more  confiftent  with  liberty,  in  any  no 
tion  of  it,  and  particularly  not  in  the  Armiman 
notion  of  it,  than  if  thefe  events  were  fubject  to 

the 


Sect  IX.       in  tie  Exiftence  of  Sin.  367 

the  difpofal  of  Divine  Providence,  and  the  will 
of  man  were  determined  by  circumftances  which 
are  ordered  and  difpofed  by  Divine  Wifdom  -,  as 
appears  by  what  has  been  already  obferved.  But 
it  is  evident,  that  fuch  a  providential  difpoling 
and  determining  men's  moral  actions,  though  it 
infers  a  moral  neceffity  of  thofe  actions,  yet  it 
does  not  in  the  leafl  infringe  the  real  liberty  of 
'mankind ;  the  only  liberty  that  common  ienfe 
teaches  to  be  necefiary  to  moral  agency,  which, 
as  has  been  demonftrated,  is  not  inconfiftent  with 
fuch  necefiity. 

On  the  whole,  it  is  manifeft,  that  God  may  be, 
in  the  manner  which  has  been  defcribed,  the 
Orderer  and  Difpofer  of  that  event,  which,  in  the 
inherent  fubject  and.  agent,  is  moral  Evil ;  and 
yet  His  fo  doing  may  be  no  moral  Evil.  He  may. 
will  the  difpofal  of  fuch  an  event,  and  its  com 
ing  to  pafs  for  good  ends,  and  his  will  not  be 
an  immoral  or  finful  will,  but  a  perfect  holy 
will.  And  he  may  actually,  in  his  Providence, 
fo  difpofe  and  permit  things,  that  the  event  may 
be  certainly  and  infallibly  connected  with  fuch 
difpofal  and  permiffion,  and  his"  act  therein  not 
be  an  immoral  or  unholy,  but  a  perfectly  holy 
act.  Sin  may  be  an  evil  thing,  and  yet  that  there 
ihould  be  fuch  a  difpofal  and  permiffion,  as  that 
it  mould  come  to  pafs,  may  be  a  good  thing.  This 
is  no  contradiction,  or  inconfiflence.  Jofepk's 
brethren's  felling  him  into  Egypt,  confider  it  only 
as  it  was  acted  by  them,  and  with  refpect  to  their 
views  and  aims  which  were  evil,  was  a  very  bad 
thing ;  but  it  was  a  good  thing,  as  it  was  an 
event  of  God's  ordering,  and  conlidered  with  re 
fpect  to  his  views  and  aims  which  were  good. 
Gen.  1.  20.  As  for y 011,  ye  thought  Evil  againft  me-9 
but  God  meant  it  unto  Good,  So  the  crucifixion  of 

Chrift, 


368  D/  GOD's  fecret  Part  IV. 

Chrift,  if  we  confider  only  thofe  things  which 
belong  to  the  event  as  it  proceeded  from  his 
murderers,  and  are  comprehended  within  the 
compafs  of  the  affair  confidered  as  their  acl:,  their 
principles,  difpofitions,  views  and  aims-,  fo  it 
was  one  of  the  moil  heinous  things  that  ever  was 
done ;  in  many  refpects  the  moil  horrid  of  all 
ac~ls  :  but  confider  it,  as  it  was  willed  and  or 
dered  of  God,  in  the  extent  of  his  defigns  and 
views,  it  was  the  mofl  admirable  and  glorious  of 
all  events ;  and  God's  willing  the  event  was  the 
moil  holy  volition  of  God,  that  ever  was  made 
known  to  men  -,  and  God's  acl;  in  ordering  it,  was 
a  divine  adl,  which,  above  all  others,  manifefts 
the  moral  excellency  of  the  Divine  Being. 

The  confideration  of  thefe  things  may  help  us 
to  a  iufficient  aniwer  to  the  cavils  of  Arminians, 
concerning  what  has  been  fuppofed  by  many 
Calvinifts,  of  a  diftinction  between  zfaret  and  re 
vealed  Will  of  God,  and  their  diverfity  one  from 
die  other ;  fnppofmg  that  the  Cafoinifts  herein  af- 
cribe  inconfiitent  Wills  to  the  Moft  High  :  which 
is  without  any  foundation.  God's  fecret.  and  re 
vealed  Will,  or,  in  other  words,  his  difpofing  and 
perceptive  Will  may  be  diverfe,  and  exercifed  in 
diffimilar  ac~ls,  the  one  in  difapproving  and  oppo- 
fmg,  the  other  in  willing  and  determining,  with 
out  any  inconfiftence.  Becaufe,  although  thefe  dif- 
finiilar  exercifes  of  the  Divine  Will  may,  income 
refpeds,  relate  to  the  fame  things,  yet,  in  ft -.ictnefs, 
they  have  different  and  contrary  objefts,  the  one 
evil  and  the  other  good.  Thus,  for  inilance,  the 
crucifixion  of  Chrift  was  a  thing  contrary  to  the 
revealed  or  perceptive  Will  of  God  •,  becaufe,  as 
it  was  viewed  and  done  by  his  malignant  murder- 
ers,  it  was  a  thing  infinitely  contrary  to  the  holy 
Nature  of  God,  and  fo  neceffarily  contrary  to  die 

holy 


.  IX.  and  revealed  mil.  369 

holy  inclination  of  his  heart  revealed  in  his  law. 
Yet  this  does  not  at  all  hinder  but  that  the  cruci 
fixion  of  Chrift,  confidered  with  all  thofe  glorious 
confequences,  which  were  within  the  view  of  the 
Divine  Ornnifcience,  might  be  indeed,  and  there 
fore  might  appear  to  God  to  be,  a  glorious  event  5 
and  confequently  be  agreable  to  his  will,  though 
this  Will  may  be  fecret,  i.  e,  not  revealed  in  God's 
law.  And  thus  confidered,  the  Crucifixion  of 
Chrift  was  not  evil,  but  good.  If  the  fecret  ex- 
crcifes  of  God's  Will  were  of  a  kind  that  is  difli* 
milar,  and  contrary  to  his  revealed  Will,  refpect- 
ing  the  fame,  or  like  objects  •,  if  the  objects  of 
both  were  good,  or  both  evil  ;  then,  indeed,  to 
afcribe  contrary  kinds  of  volition  or  inclination 
to  God,  refpecting  thefe  objects,  would  be  to  af 
cribe  an  inconfiftent  Will  to  God :  but  to  afcribe 
to  Him  different  and  oppofite  exerciies  of  heart, 
refpecting  different  objects,  and  objects  contrary 
one  to  another,  is  fo  far  from  fuppofing  God's 
Will  to  be  Inconfijlent  with  itfelf,  that  it  cannot  be 
fuppofed  confident  with  itfelf  any  other  way.  For 
any  Being  to  have  a  Will  of  choice  refpecting 
good,  and,  at  the  fame  time,  a  Will  of  rejection  and 
refufal  refpecting  evil,  is  to  be  very  confident : 
but  the  contrary,  viz.  to  have  the  fame  Will  to- . 
wards  thefe  contrary  objects,  and  to  chufe  and 
love  both  good  and  evil,  at  the  fame  time,  is  to  be 
very  inconfiftent. 

There  is  no  inconfiftence  in  fuppofing,  that 
God  may  hate  a  thing  as  it  is  in  itfelf,  and  con 
fidered  fimply  as  evil,  and  yet  that  it  may  be  his 
Will  it  Ihould  come  to  pafs,  confidering  all  con 
fequences.  I  believe,  there  is  no  perfon  of  good 
underftanding,  who  will  venture  to  fay,  he  is 
certain  that  it  is  impoffible  it  mould  be  beft,  tak 
ing  in  the  whok  compafs  and  extent  of  exiftence, 
B  b  and 


370  Of  GOD's  fecret  Part  IV. 

and  all  confequences  in  the  endlefs  feries  of 
events,  that  there  fhould  be  fuch  a  thing  as  moral 
evil  in  the  world.  *  And,  if  fo,  it  will  certainly 

follow, 

*  Here  arc  worthy  to  be  obferved  fome  paffages  of  a  late 
noted  writer,  of  our  nation,  that  no  body  who  is  acquainted 
with  him,  will  fufpect  to  be  very  favourable  to  Cal-vinifm. 
"  It  is  difficult  (fays  he)  to  handle  the  uecejjity  of  evil  in  fuch 
*'  a  manner,  as  not  to  ftumble  fuch  as,  are  not  above  being 
*'  alarmed  at  proportions  which  have  an  uncommon  found. 
ft  But  if  philofophers  will  but  reflect  calmly  on  the  matter, 
*'  they  will  find,  that  confidently  with  the  unlimited  power 
*'  of  the  Supreme  Caufe,  it  may  be  faid,  that  in  the  beft  or- 
"  dered  fyftem,  evils  muft  have  place." — Turnbuir*  PRIN 
CIPLES  of  moral  Pkilofopby,  p.  327,  328.  He  is  there  fpeak- 
ing  of  moral  evils,  as  may  be  feen. 

Again  the  fame  Author,  in  his  Second  Vol.  entitled,  Cbri- 
fian  Philofophy,  p.  35.  has  thefe  words :  ««  If  the  Author  and 
"  Governor  of  all  things  be  infinitely  per  fed,  then  whatever 
"  is,  is  right ;  of  all  poffible  fyftems  he  hath  chofen  the  bejl  : 
f{  and,  confequently,  there  is  no  abfolute  evil  in.  the  univerfe.— 
"  This  being  the  cafe,  all  the  feeming  impirfe&ions  or  evils 
"  in  it  are  fuch  only  in  a  partial  view;  and,  with  refpect  to 
"  the  whole  fyftem,  they  are  goods. 

Ibid.  p.  37.  "  Whence  then  comes  evil,  is  the  queftion  that 
**  hath,  in  all  ages,  been  reckoned  the  Gordian  knot  in  philo- 
"  fophy.  And,  indeed,  if  we  own  the  exiftence  of  evil  in  the 
"  world  in  an  abfolute  fenfe,  we  diametrically  contradict  what 
"  hath  been  juft  now  proved  of  God.  For  if  there  be  any 
*'  evil  in  the  fyftem,  that  is  not  good  with  refped  to  the  whole, 
"  then  is  the  nv&o/e  not  good,  but  evil :  or,  at  beft,  very  im- 
**  perfect :  and  an  Author  muft  be  as  his  ivorkmanjhip  is  ;  as 
**  is  the  effect,  fuch  is  the  caufe.  But  the  folution  of  this 
**  difficulty  is  at  hand  ;  That  there  is  no  evil  in  the  univerfe. 
4f  What '.  Are  there  no  pains,  no  imperfections  ?  Is  there  no 
**  mifery,  no  vice  in  the  world?  or  arc  not  thefe  evils? 
"  Evils  indeed  they  are ;  that  is,  thofe  of  one  fort  are  hurt- 
"  ful,  and  thofe  of  the  other  fort  are  equally  hurtful,  and 
"  abominable :  but  they  are  not  evil  or  mifclnevous  with  re- 
"  fpecttotheav/^." 

Ibid.  p.  42.  f(  But  He  is,  at  the  fame  time,  faid  to  create 

*  *  evil,  darknefs,  confufion  ;  and  yet  to  do  no  evil,  but  to  be 

*  *  the  Author  of  good  only.  He  is  called  the  Father  of  L  igbts, 
**  the  Author  of  every  perf  eft  and  good  gift,  <witb<whcm  there 
**  is  no  variablentfs  nor  Jhadcw  of  turning,  who  tempt eth  n» 

•'  man,, 


&ft.  IX.  and  revealed  mil.  371 

follow,  that  an  infinitely  wife  Being,  who  always 
chufes  what  is  beft,  muft  chufe  that  there  fhould 
be  fuch  a  thing.  And,  if  fo,  then  fuch  a  choice 
is  not  an  evil,  but  a  wife  and  holy  choice.  And 
if  fo,  then  that  Providence  which  is  agreable  to 
fuch  a  choice,  is  a  wife  and  holy  Providence. 
Men  do  will  fin  as  fin,  and  fo  are  the  authors 
and  a<5tors  of  it :  they  love  it  as  fin,  and  for 
evil  ends  and  purpofes.  God  does  not  will  fin  as 
fin,  or  for  the  fake  of  any  thing  evil ;  though  it 
be  his  plealure  fo  to  order  things,  that,  He  per 
mitting,  fin  will  come  to  pafs  ;  for  the  fake  ot  the 
great  good  that  by  his  difpofal  lhall  be  the  con- 
iequence.  His  willing  to  order  things  fo  that 
evil  fhould  come  to  pafs,  for  the  fake  of  the  con 
trary  good,  is  no  argument  that  He  does  not  hate 
evil,  as  evil :  and  if  fo,  then  it  is  no  reafon  why 
he  may  not  reafonably  forbid  evil  as  evil,  and  pu- 
nifh  it  as  fuch. 

The  Armmians  themfelves  muft  be  obliged, 
whether  they  will  or  no,  to  allow  a  diftinction  of 
God's  Will,  amounting  to  juft  the  fame  thing 
that  Calvintfts  intend  by  their  diftinction  vi^Jecret 
.and  reveahd  WilL  They  muft  allow  a  diftinclion 
of  thofe  things  which  God  thinks  beft  Ihould  be, 
confidering  all  circumftances*  and  confequences, 
and  fo  are  agreable  to  his  difpofing  Will,  and  thofe 
things  which  he  loves,  and  are  agreable  to  his 

"  tnan,  butgivetk  fo  all  mtn  liberally,  and  upbraidetb  ntt.  And 

<{  yet,    by  the  prophet  Ifaias,  He  is  introduced  faying  of 

'  Himfelfj  I  form  light ,  and  create  darknefs  ;  /  make  peace,  and 

*'  create  evil:    I  the  Lord,  do  all  tbefe  things.     What  is  the 

"  meaning,  the  plain  language  of  all  this,  but  that  the  Lord 

"  delighteth  in  goodnefs,  and  (as  the  Scripture  fpeaks)  evil 

'*  is  bis ftrange  work?  He  intends  and  purfues  the  univerfal 

<*  good  of  his  creation:  and  the  evil  which  happens,  is  not 

"  permitted  for  its  own  fake,  or  through  any  pleafure  in  evil, 

"  but  becaufe  it  is  requiiite  to  the  greater  good  purfued." 

B  b  2  nature, 


37*  Of  GOD's  fecret  Part  IV. 

nature,  in  themfelves  confidered.  Who  is  there 
that  will  dare  to  fay,  that  the  hellifh  pride,  malice 
and  cruelty  of  devils,  are  agreable  to  God,  and 
what  He  likes  and  approves?  And  yet,  I  truft, 
there  is  no  Chriflian  divine  but  what  will  allow, 
that  it  is  agreable  to  God's  Will  fo  to  order  and 
difpofe  things  concerning  them,  fo  to  leave  them 
to  themfelves,  and  give  them  up  to  their  own 
wickednefs,  that  this  perfect  wickednefs  fhould 
be  a  neceflary  confequence.  Befure  Dr.  Whitfrfs 
words  do  plainly  fuppofe  and  allow  it.  * 

Thefe  following  things  may  be  laid  down  as 
maxims  of  plain  truth,  and  indifputable  evi 
dence. 

1.  That  God  is  a  perfeBly  happy  Being,  in  the 
moft  abfolute  and  higheil  fenfe  poflible. 

2.  That  it  will  follow  from  hence,  that  God  is 
free  from  every  thing  that  is  contrary  to  happinefs  ; 
and  fo,  that  in  ftrict  propriety  of  fpeech,  there  is 
no  fuch  thing  as  any  pain,  grief,  or  trouble,  in 
God. 

3.  When  any  intelligent  being  is  really  crofTcd 
and  difapp  pointed,  and  things  are  contrary  to  what 
he  truly  defires,  he  is  the  lefs  pkafed,   or  has  lefs 
fleafure,  his  pleafure  and  happinefs  is  diminiJJoed^  and 
he  fuffers  what  is  difagreable  to  him,  or  is  the 
fubject  of  fomething  that  is  of  a  nature  contrary 
to  joy  and  happinefs,  even  pain  and  grief,  -f 


on  the  live  Points,  Edit.  2.  300,  305,  309. 
f  Certainly  it  is  not  lefs  abfurd  and  unreasonable,  to  talk 
cf  God's  Will  and  Defires  being  truly  and  properly  crorTed, 
without  his  fuffering  any  urieafinefs,  or  any  thing  grievous  or 
difagreable,  than  it  is  to  talk  of  fomething  that  may  be  called 
a  revealed  Will,  which  may,  in  fome  refpedl,  be  different 
from  a.  fecret  purpofe  ;  which  purpofe  may  be  fulfilled,  when 
the  other  is  oppofed. 

From 


8eft  IX.  and  revealed  Will.  373 

From  this  laft  axiom,  it  follows,  that  if  no 
diftindtion  is  to  be  admitted  between  God's  hatred 
of  fin,  and  his  Will  with  rcfpect  to  the  event 
and  the  exiftence  of  Cm,  as  the  ail-wife  Determiner 
of  all  events,  under  the  view  of  all  confequences 
through  the  whole  compafs  and  feries  of  things ; 
I  fay,  then  it  certainly  follows,  that  the  coming 
to  pafs  of  every  individual  act  of  fin  is  truly,  all 
things  confidered,  contrary  to  his  Will,  and  that 
his  Will  is  really  crofted  in  it;  and  this  in  pro 
portion  as  He  hates  it.  And  as  God's  hatred  of 
fin  is  infinite,  by  reafon  of  the  infinite  contra 
riety  of  his  Holy  Nature  to  fin  ;  fo  his  Will  is 
infinitely  crofted,  in  every  act  of  fin  that  happens. 
Which  is  as  much  as  to  fay,  He  endures  that 
which  is  infinitely  difagreable  to  Him,  by  means 
of  every  act  of  fin  that  He  fees  committed.  And, 
therefore,  as  appears  by  the  preceding  pofitions, 
He  endures  truly  and  really,  infinite  grief  or 
pain  from  every  fin.  And  fo  He  muft  be  infi 
nitely  crofled,  and  fuffer  infinite  pain,  every  day, 
in  millions  of  millions  of  inflances :  He  muft 
continually  be  the  fubject  of  an  immenfe  num- 
of  real,  and  truly  infinitely  great  crofies  and  vex 
ations.  Which  would  be  to  make  him  infinitely 
the  moil  miferable  of  all  Beings. 

If  any  objector  ihould  fay ;  all  that  thefe 
things  amount  to,  is,  that  God  may  do  evil  that 
good  may  come ;  which  is  juftly  efteemed  immoral 
and  finful  in  men ;  and  therefore  may  be  juftly 
efteemed  inconfiftent  with  the  moral  perfections 
of  God.  I  anfwer,  that  for  God  to  difpofe  and 
permit  evil,  in  the  manner  that  has  been  fpoken 
of,  is  not  to  do  evil  that  good  may  come ;  for  it 
is  not  to  do  evil  at  alL — In  order  to  a  thing's 
being  morally  evil,  there  mint  be  one  of  thefe 
things  belonging  to  it :  either  it  muft  be  a  thing 
B  b  3  unfa 


374  Of  GOD's  fecret  Part  IV. 

unfit  and  unsuitable  in  its  own  nature ;  or  it  muft 
have  a  lad  tendency ;  or  it  muft  proceed  from  an 
evil  diffofition,  and  be  done  for  an  evil  end.  But 
neither  of  thefe  things  can  be  attributed  to  God's 
ordering  and  permitting  fuch  events,  as  the  im 
moral  ads  of  creatures,  for  good  ends,  (i.)  It 
is  not  unfit  in  its  own  nature ,  that  He  fhould  do  fo. 
For  it  is  in  its  own  nature /£,  that  infinite  ivifdom9 
and  not  blind  chance,  fhould  difpofe  moral  good 
and  evil  in  the  world.  And  it  is//,  that  the 
Being  who  has  infinite  wifdom^  and  is  the  Maker, 
Owner,  and  Supreme  Governor  of  the  World, 
fhould  take  care  of  that  matter.  And,  therefore, 
there  is  no  unfitnefs,  or  unfuitablenefs  in  his  do 
ing  it.  It  may  be  unfit,  and  fo  immoral,  for  any 
other  beings  to  go  about  to  order  this  affair  ;  be- 
caufe  they  are  not  poffeffed  of  a  wifdom,  that  in 
any  manner  fits  them  for  it  -,  and,  in  other  refpedls, 
they  are  not  fit  to  be  trufted  with  this  affair ;  nor 
does  it  belong  to  them,  they  not  being  the  owners 
and  lords  of  the  univerfe. 

We  need  not  be  afraid  to  affirm,  that  if  a  wife 
and  good  man  knew  with  abfolute  certainty,  it 
would  be  beft,  all  things  confidered,  that  there 
ihould  be  fuch  a  thing  as  moral  evil  in  the 
world,  it  would  not  be  contrary  to  his  wifdom 
and  goodnefs,  for  him  to  chufe  that  it  fhould  be 
fo.  It  is  no  evil  defire,  to  defire  good,  and  to 
defire  that  which,  all  things  confidered,  is  beft. 
Anil  it  is  no  unwife  choice,  to  chufe  that  that 
Ihould  be,  which  it  is  beft  fhould  be  ;  and  to  chufe 
the  exiftence  of  that  thing  concerning  which  this 
is  known,  viz.  that  it  is  beft  it  fhould  be,  and  fo 
is  known  in  the  whole  to  be  moft  worthy  to  be 
chofen.  On  the  contrary,  it  would  be  a  plain 
defect  in  wifdom  and  goodnefs,  for  him  not  to 
chufe  it.  And  the  reafon  why  he  might  not  or 
der 


Sect.  IX.  and  revealed  1VIIL  3  75 

der  it,  if  he  were  able,  would  not  be  becaufe  he 
might  not  defire  it,  but  only  the  ordering  of  that 
matter  does  not  belong  to  him.  But  it  is  no  harm 
for  Him  who  is,  by  right,   and  in  the   greateit 
propriety,  the  Supreme  Orderer  of  all  things,  to 
order  every  thing  in  fuch  a  manner,  as  it  would 
be  a  point  of  wifdom  in  Him  to  chufe  that  they 
ihould  be  ordered.     If  it  would  be  a  plain  defect 
of  wifdom  and  goodnefs  in  a  Being,  not  to  chufe 
that  that  Ihould  be,  which  He  certainly  knows 
it  would,  all  things  confidered,  be  belt  Ihould 
be  (as  was  but  now  obferved)  then  it  muft  be  im- 
poffible  for  a  Being  who  has  no  defect  of  wifdom 
and  goodnefs,  to  do  otherwife  than  chufe  it  ihould 
be^  and  that,  for  this  very  reafon,  becaufe  He 
is  perfectly  wife  and  good.     And  if  it  be  agreable 
to  perfect  wifdom  and  goodnefs  for  him  to  chufe 
that  it  ihould  be,  and  the  ordering  of  all  things 
fupremely  and  perfectly  belongs  to  him,  it  muft 
be  agreable  to  infinite  wifdom   and  goodnefs,  to 
order  that  it  ihould  be.     If  the  choice  is  good, 
the  ordering   and  difpofing  things  according  to 
that  choice  muft  alfo  be  good.  It  can  be  no  harm 
in  one  to  whom  it  belongs  tv  do  his  Will  in  the 
armies  of  heaven,  and  amonfft  the  inhabitants  of  the 
earth,  to  execute   a  good  volition.     If  this  Will 
be  good,  and  the  object  of  his  Will  be,  all  things 
confidered,  good  and  beft,  then  the  chufing  or 
willing  it  is  not  willing  evil  that  good  may  come. 
And  if  fo,  then  his  ordering,  according  to  that 
Will,  is  not  deing  evil,  that  good  may  come, 

2.  It  is  not  of  a  bad  tendency,  for  the  Supreme 
Being  thus  to  order  and  permit  that  moral  evil 
to  be,  which  it  is  beft  ihould  come  to  pafs.  For 
that  it  is  of  good  tendency,  is  the  very  thing 
fuppofed  in  the  point  now  in  queftion. — Chrift's 
Crucifixion,  though  a  moft  horrid  fact  in  them  that 
B  b  4  perpe- 


376  Of  Sin's  firft  Entrance         Part  IV. 

perpetrated  it,  was  of  moft  glorious  tendency  as 
permitted  and  ordered  of  God. 

3.  Nor  is  there  any  need  of  fuppofmg,  \t  pro 
ceeds  from  any  evil  difpofaion  or  aim :  for  by  the 
fuppofition,  what  is  aimed  at  is  good,  and  good 
is  the  actual  iffue,  in  the  final  refult  of  things. 


SECTION    X. 


Concerning  Sin's  firft  Entrance  info  tie  World. 

THE  things,  which  have  already  been  offered, 
may  ferve  to  obviate  or  clear  many  of  the 
obje&ions  which  might  be  raifed  concerning  Sin's 
firft  coming  into  the  world ;  as  though  it  would 
follow  from  the  doctrine  maintained,  that  God 
muft  be  the  Author  of  the  firft  Sin,  through  his  fo 
difpofing  things,  that  it  Ihould  necefTarily  follow 
from  his  permifTion,  that  the  fmful  act  fhould  be 
committed,  &c.  I  need  not,  therefore,  Hand  to 
repeat  what  has  been  faid  already,  about  fuch  a 
necefiity's  not  proving  God  to  be  the  Author  of 
Sin,  in  any  ill  fenfe,  or  in  any  fuch  fenfe  as  to 
infringe  any  liberty  of  man,  concerned  in  his 
moral  agency,  or  capacity  of  blame,  guilt  and 
puniihment. 

But,  if  it  fhould  neverthelefs  be  faid,  fuppofing 
the  cafe  fo,  that  God,  when  he  had  made  man, 
might  fo  order  his  circum fiances,  that  from  thefe 
circumftances,  together  with  his  withholding  fur 
ther  afliftance  and  Divine  Influence,  his  Sin  would 
infallibly  follow,  why  might  not  God  as  well 
have  firft  made  man  with  a  fixed  prevailing  prin 
ciple  of  Sin  in  his  heart  ? 

I  anfwer, 


Seel.  X.  into  the  World. 

I  anfwer,  i .  It  was  meet,  if  Sin  did  come  into 
cxiftence,  and  appear  in  the  world,  it  fhould  arife 
from  the  imperfection  which  properly  belongs  to 
a  creature,  as  fuch,  and  Ihould  appear  fo  to  do, 
that  it  might  appear  not  to  be  from  God  as  the 
efficient  or  fountain.  But  this  could  not  have 
been,  if  man  had  been  made  at  firft  with  Sin 
in  his  heart ;  nor  unlefs  the  abiding  principle  and 
habit  of  Sin  were  firit  introduced  by  an  evil  act 
of  the  creature.  If  Sin  had  not  arofe  from  the 
imperfection  of  the  creature,  it  would  not  have 
been  fo  vifible,  that  it  did  not  arife  from  God,  as 
the  pofitive  caufe,  and  real  fource  of  it.- — But  it 
would  require  room  that  cannot  be  here  allowed, 
fully  to  confider  all  the  difficulties  which  have 
been  ftarted,  concerning  the  firft  Entrance  of  Sin 
into  the  world. 

And  therefore, 

2.  I  would  obferve,  that  objections  againft  the 
doctrine  that  has  been  laid  down,  in  oppofition 
to  the  Arminlan  notion  of  liberty,  from  thefe 
difficulties,  are  altogether  impertinent ;  becaufe 
no  additional  difficulty  is  incurred,  by  adhering 
to  a  fcheme  in  this  manner  differing  from  theirs, 
and  none  would  be  removed  or  avoided,  by  agree- 
ing  with,  and  maintaining  theirs.  Nothing  that 
the  Arminians  fay,  about  the  contingence,  or  felf- 
determining  power  of  man's  will,  can  ferve  to  ex 
plain,  with  lefs  difficulty,  how  the  firit  finful  voli 
tion  of  mankind  could  take  place,  and  man  be  jult- 
ly  charged  with  the  blame  of  it.  To  fay,  the  will 
was  felf-determined,  or  determined  by  free  choice, 
in  that  finful  volition ;  which  is  to  lay,  that  the 
firft  finful  volition  was  determined  by  a  foregoing 
finful  volition  -,  is  no  folution  of  the  difficulty. 
It  is  an  odd  way  of  folving  difficulties,  to  ad 
vance  greater,  in  order  to  it.  To  fay,  two  and 

two 


378  Of  Sin's  firft  Entrance,  &c.     Part  IV; 

two  makes  nine  •,  or,  that  a  child  begat  his  fa 
ther,  folves  no  difficulty  :  no  more  does  it,  to 
fay,  the  firft  finful  act  of  choice  was  before  the 
firft  finful  ad  of  choice,  and  chofe  and  deter 
mined  it,  and  brought  it  to  pafs.  Nor  is  it  any 
better  folution,  to  fay,  the  firft  finful  volition 
chofe,  determined  and  produced  itfelf;  which  is 
to  fay,  it  was  before  it  was.  Nor  will  it  go  any 
further  towards  helping  us  over  the  difficulty,  to 
fay,  the  firft  finful  volition  arofe  accidentally, 
without  any  caufe  at  all ;  any  more  than  it  will 
folve  that  difficult  queftion,  How  the  world  could 
be  made  out  of  nothing?  to  fay,  it  came  into  being 
out  of  nothing,  without  any  caufe  ;  as  has  been 
already  obferved.  And  if  we  mould  allow  that 
that  could  be,  that  the  firft  evil  volition  mould 
arife  by  perfect  accident,  without  any  caufe  ;  ic 
would  relieve  no  difficulty,  about  God's  laying 
the  blame  of  it  to  man.  For  how  was  man  to 
blame  for  perfect  accident,  which  had  no  caufe, 
and  which,  therefore,  he  (to  be  fure)  was  not  the 
caufe  of,  any  more  than  if  it  came  by  fbme  ex-- 
ternal  caufe  ? — Such  kind  of  folutions  are  no  bet 
ter,  than  if  fome  perfon,  going  'about  to  folve 
fome  of  the  ftrange  mathematical  paradoxes,  about 
infinitely  great  and  fmall  quantities  ;  as,  that  fome 
infinitely  great  quantities  are  infinitely  greater  than 
fome  other  infinitely  great  quantities ;  and  alfo 
that  fome  infinitely  fmall  quantities,  are  infinitely 
lefs  than  others,  which  yet  are  infinitely  little ;  in 
order  to  a  folution,  mould  fay,  that  mankind  have 
been  under  a  miftake,  in  fuppofing  a  greater  quan 
tity  to  exceed  a  fmaller;  and  that  a  hundred,  mul 
tiplied  by  ten,  makes  but  a  fingle  unit. 


SECTION 


(    379    ) 
SECTION     XL 

Of  a  fuppofed  Inconfiftence  of  thefe  Principles  with 
G  0  D's  moral  Character. 

THE  things  which  have  been  already  ob- 
ferved,  may  be  fufficient  to  anfvver  moft  of 
the  objedtions,  and  filence  the  great  exclamations 
of  Armenians  againll  the  Cahimjts,  from  the  fup 
pofed  inconfiftence  of  Cafoiniftic  principles  with  the 
moral  perfections  of  God,  as  exercifed  in  his  go 
vernment  of  mankind.  The  confidence  of  fuch  a 
doftrine  of  neceftlty  as  has  been  maintained,  with 
the  fitnefs  and  reafonablenefs  of  God's  commands, 
promifes  and  threatenings,  rewards  and  punim- 
ments,  has  been  particularly  confidered :  the 
cavils  of  our  opponents,  as  though  our  doctrine 
of  necefllty  made  God  the  author  of  fin,  have 
been  anfwered  •,  and  alfo  their  objection  againft 
thefe  principles,  as  inconfiftent  with  God's  fm- 
cerity,  in  his  counfels,  invitations  and  perfua- 
fions,  has  been  already  obviated,  in  what  has 
been  obferved,  refpecting  the  confidence  of  what 
Calvinijls  fuppofe,  concerning  the  fecret  and  re 
vealed  will  of  God  :  by  that  it  appears,  there  is  no 
repugnance  in  fuppofing  it  may  be  the  fecret  will 
of  God,  that  his  ordination  and  permiflion  of 
events  fhould  be  fuch,  that  it  ihall  be  a  certain 
confequence,  that  a  thing  never  will  come  to 
pafs ;  which  yet  it  is  man's  duty  to  do,  and  fo 
God's  perceptive  will,  that  he  Ihould  do ;  and 
this  is  the  fame  thing  as  to  fay,  God  may  fin- 
cerely  command  and  require  him  to  do  it.  And  if 
he  may  be  fincere  in  commanding  him,  he  may, 
for  the  fame  reafon,  be  fincere  in  counfelling,  invit 
ing  and  ufing  perfuafions  with  him  to  do  it.  Counfels 

and 


380  Of  the  Objection  Part  IV. 

and  invitations  are  manifeftations  of  God's  per 
ceptive  will,  or  of  what  God  loves,  and  what  is 
in  itfelf,  and  as  man's  act,  agreable  to  his  heart ; 
and  not  of  his  difpofing  will,  and  what  he  chufes 
as  a  part  of  his  own  infinite  fcheme  of  things. 
It  has  been  particularly  ihewn,  Part  III.  Seel.  IV. 
that  fuch  a  neceffity  as  has  been  maintained,  is  not 
inconfiftent  with  the  propriety  and  fitnefs  of  divine 
commands  •,  and  for  the  fame  reafon,  not  incon- 
fiflent  with  the  fincerity  and  invitations  and  coun 
fels,  in  the  Corollary  at  the  end  of  that  Section. 
Yea,  it  hath  been  Ihewn,  Part  III.  Sect.  VII. 
Corel,  i.  that  this  objection  of  Armenians,  con 
cerning  the  fincerity  and  ufe  of  divine  exhorta 
tions,  invitations  and  counfels,  is  demonftrably 
againft  themfelves. 

Notwithftanding,  I  would  further  obferve,  that 
the  difficulty  of  reconciling  the  fincerity  of  coun 
fels,  invitations  and  perfuafiqns  with  fuch  an  an 
tecedent  known  fixednefs  of  all  events,  as  has 
been  fuppofed,  is  not  peculiar  to  this  fcheme,  as 
diftinguifhed  from  that  of  the  generality  of  Armi- 
nians,  which  acknowledge  the  abiolute  foreknow 
ledge  of  God :  and  therefore,  it  would  be  un- 
reafonably  brought  as  an  objection  againft  my 
differing  from  them.  The  main  feeming  diffi 
culty  in  the  cafe  is  this :  that  God,  in  counfel- 
ling,  inviting  and  perfuading,  makes  a  mew  of 
aiming  at,  feeking  and  ufing  endeavours  for  the 
thing  exhorted  and  perfuaded  to  ;  whereas,  it  is 
impoflibie  for  any  intelligent  being  truly  to  feek, 
or  ufe  endeavours  for  a  thing,  which 'he  at  the 
fame  time  knows,  moil  perfectly,  will  not  come 
to  pafs  ;  and  that  it  is  abfurd  to  fuppofe,  he  makes 
the  obtaining  of  a  thing  his  end,  in  his  calls 
and  counfels,  which  he,  at  the  fame  time,  infal 
libly  knows  will  not  be  obtained  by  thefe  means. 

Now, 


Se&.  XL    from  God's  moral  Character.          381 

Now,  if  God  knows  this,  in  the  utmoft  certainty 
and  perfection,  the  way  by  which  he  comes  by 
this  knowledge  makes  no  difference.  If  he  knows 
it  is  by  the  neceflity  which  he  fees  in  things,  or 
by  fome  other  means;  it  alters  not  the  cafe.  But 
it  is  in  effect  allowed  by  Arminians  themfelves, 
that  God's  inviting  and  perfuading  men  to  do 
things,  which  he,  at  the  fame  time,  certainly 
knows  will  not  be  done,  is  no  evidence  of  infin- 
cerity ;  becaufe  they  allow,  that  God  has  a  cer 
tain  foreknowledge  of  all  men's  finful  actions 
and  omifllons.  And  as  this  is  thus  implicitly  al 
lowed  by  moil  Arminians,  fo  all  that  pretend  to 
own  the  Scriptures  to  be  the  word  of  God,  mud 
be  conilrained  to  allow  it. — God  commanded  and 
counfelled  Pharaoh  to  let  his  people  go,  and  ufed 
arguments  and  perfuafions  to  induce  him  to  it ; 
he  laid  before  him  arguments  taken  from  his  in 
finite  Greatnefs  and  almighty  Power,  (Exod.  vii. 
1 6.)  and  forewarned  him  of  the  fatal  confequen- 
ces  of  his  refufal,  from  time  to  time :  (chap. 
viii.  i,  2,  20,  21.  chap.  ix.  i, — 5.  13, — 17.  and 
x,  3,  6.)  He  commanded  Mofes,  and  the  elders 
of  Jfrael,  to  go  and  befeech  Pharaoh  to  let  the 
people  go ;  and  at  the  fame  time  told  them,  he 
knew  furely  that  he  would  not  comply  to  it. 
Exod.  iii.  1 8,  19,  Andthoufoalt  come,  thou  and  the 
elders  of  Ifrael,  unto  the  king  of  Egypt,  and  you 
Jhall  fay  unto  him  ;  the  Lord  €od  of  the  Hebrews 
hath  met  with  us ;  and  now  let  us  go^  we  befeech  thee> 
three  days  journey  into  the  wlldernefs,  that  we  may 
facrifice  unto  the  Lord  our  God :  and,  1  am  fure,  that 
the  king  of  Egypt  will  not  let  you  go.  So  our  Blefied 
Saviour,  the  evening  wherein  he  was  betrayed, 
knew  that  Peter  would  Ihamefully  deny  him,  be 
fore  the  morning;  for  he  declares  it  to  him  with 
aiTeverations,  to  fhew  the  certainty  of  it ;  and 
tells  the  difciples,  that  all  of  them  fliould  be  of 
fended 


382  Of  the  Objection  Part  IV. 

fended  becaufe  of  him  that  night;  Matthew 
xxvi.  31, — 35.  John  xiii.  $S.Luke  xxii.  31, — 34* 
John  xv\ .  32.  And  yet  it  was  their  duty  to  avoid 
thefe  things ;  they  were  very  fmful  things,  which 
God  had  forbidden,  and  which  it  was  their  duty 
to  watch  and  pray  againft;.  and  they  were  obliged 
to  do  fo  from  the  counfels  and  perfuaftons  Chrifl 
ufed  with  them,  at  that  very  time,  fo  to  do; 
Matthew  xxvi.  41.  Watch  and  fray ',  that  ye  enter 
not  into  temptation.  So  that  whatever  difficulty 
there  can  be  in  this  matter,  it  can  be  no  objec 
tion  againft  any  principles  which  have  been  main 
tained  in  oppofition  to  the  principles  of  Armi- 
nians ;  nor  does  it  any  more  concern  me  to  re 
move  the  difficulty,  than  it  does  them,  or  indeed 
all,  that  call  themfelves  Chriftians,  and  acknow 
ledge  the  divine  authority  of  the  Scriptures. — Ne- 
verthelefs,  this  matter  may  poffibly  (God  allow 
ing)  be  more  particularly  and  largely  confidered, 
in  fome  future  difcourfe,  on  the  doctrine  of  pre- 
deflination. 

But  I  would  here  obferve,  that  however  the 
defenders  of  that  notion  of  liberty  of  will, 
which  I  have  oppofed,  exclaim  againft  the  doc 
trine  of  CahiniftS)  as  tending  to  bring  men  into 
doubts  concerning  the  moral  perfections  of  God; 
it  is  their  fcheme,  and  not  the  fcheme  of  Calvi- 
ni/lsy  that  indeed  is  juflly  chargeable  with  this. 
For  it  is  one  of  the  molt  fundamental  points  of 
their  fcheme  of  things,  that  a  freedom  of  will, 
confiding  in  felf-determination,  without  all  ne- 
ceceffity,  is  eiTential  to  moral  agency.  This  is  the 
fame  thing  as  to  fay,  that  fuch  a  determination 
of  the  will,  without  all  neccfiity,  muft  be  in  all 
intelligent  beings,  in  thofe  things,  wherein  they 
are  moral  agents,  or  in  their  moral  afts :  and  from 
this  it  will  follow,  that  God's  will  is  not  necef- 

farily 


.  XL    from  God's  moral  Character.          383 

farily  determined,  in  any  thing  he  does,  as  a  mo 
ral  agent,  or  in  any  of  his  afts  that  are  of  a  moral 
nature :  So  that  in  all  things,  wherein  he  acts 
holily,  juftly  and  truly  ^  he  does  not  aft  necefTarily  ; 
or  his  will  is  not  neceflarily  determined  to  aft  ho- 
lily  and  juftly;  becaufe,  if  it  were  neceflarily  deter- 
mined,  he  would  not  be  a  moral  agent  in  thus  act- 
ing  :  his  will  would  be  attended  with  neceffity  ; 
which,  they  fay,  is  inconfiftent  with  moral  agency : 
"  He  can  aft  no  otherwife  ;  He  is  at  no  liberty 
"  in  the  affair ;  He  is  determined  by  unavoid- 
"  able  invincible  neceflity  :  therefore  fnch  agen- 
**  cy  is   no  moral  agency  •,  yea,  no  agency  at 
"  all,  properly  fpeaking :    a  neceflary  agent  is 
"  no  agent :    He  being  pafiive,  and  fubjeft  to 
"  neceflity,  what  he  does  is  no  aft  of  his,  but 
"  an  effect  of  a  neceflity  prior  to  any  aft  of 
"  his."     This  is  agreable  to  their  manner  of  ar 
guing.     Now  then,  what  is  become  of  all  our 
proof  of  the  moral  perfections  of  God  ?  How 
can  we  prove,  that  God  certainly  will,  in  any  one 
inftance,  do  that  which  is  jnft  and  holy  •,  feeing 
his  will  is  determined  in  the  matter  by  no  necef 
lity  ?  We  have  no  other  way  of  proving  that  any 
thing  certainly  will  be,  but  only  by  the  neceflity 
of  the  event.     Where  we  can  fee  no  neceflity, 
but  that  the  thing  may  be,  or  may  not  be,  there 
we  are  unavoidably  left  at  a  lofs.     We  have  no 
other  way  properly  and  truly  to  demonftrate  the 
moral  perfections  of  God,  but  the  way  that  Mr. 
Chubb  proves  them,  in  p.  252,  261,  262,  263.  of 
his  Tracts,  ixz.  that  God  mult  neceflarily  per 
fectly  know,  what  is  moft  worthy  and  valuable  in 
itfelf,  which,  in  the  nature  of  things,  is  bell  and 
fitteft  to  be  done.    And,  as  this  is  moft  eligible  in 
itfelf,  He,  being  omnifcient,  muft  fee  it  to  be  fo ; 
and  being  both  omnifcient  and  felf-fufficient,  can 
not  have  any  temptation  to  reject  it ;  and  fo  muft 

neceflarily 


384          O/Arminian  Arguments,  &r.     Part  IV. 

necefTarily  will  that  which  is  bell.  And  thus,  by 
this  neceflity  of  the  determination  of  God's  will 
to  what  is  good  and  belt,  we  demonftrably  eita- 
blifh  God's  moral  chara&er. 

CoroL  From  things  which  have  been  obferved, 
it  appears,  that  moft  of  the  arguments  from 
Scripture,  which  Arminiam  make  ufe  of  to  fup- 
port  their  fcheme,  are  no  other  than  begging  the 
queftion.  For  in  thefe  their  arguments,  they  de 
termine  in  the  firft  place,  that  without  fuch  a 
freedom  of  will  as  they  hold,  men  cannot  be  pro 
per  moral  agents,  nor  the  fubjecSh  of  command, 
counfel,  perfuafion,  invitation,  promifes,  threaten- 
ings,  expoftulations,  rewards  and  punifhments ; 
and  that  without  fuch  freedom  it  is  to  no  purpofe 
for  men  to  take  any  care,  or  ufe  any  diligence, 
endeavours  or  means,  in  order  to  their  avoiding 
fin,  or  becoming  holy,  efcaping  punilhment  or 
obtaining  happinefs  :  and  having  fuppofed  thefe 
things,  which  are  grand  things  in  queftion  in  the 
debate,  then  they  heap  up  Scriptures,  containing 
commands,  counfels,  calls,  warnings,  perfuafions, 
expoftulations,  promifes  and  threatenings ;  (as 
doubtlefs  they  may  find  enough  fuch  •,  the  Bible 
is  confefledly  full  of  them,  from  the  beginning  to 
the  end)  and  then  they  glory,  how  full  the  Scrip 
ture  is  on  their  fide,  how  many  more  texts  there 
are  that  evidently  favour  their  fcheme,  than  fuch 
as  fcem  to  favour  the  contrary.  But  let  them  firft 
make  manifeft  the  things  in  queilion,  which  they 
fuppofe  and  take  for  granted,  and  fhew  them  to 
be  confident  with  themlelves  ;  and  produce  clear 
evidence  of  their  truth  ;  and  they  have  gained 
their  point,  as  all  will  confefs,  without  bringing 
one  Scripture.  For  non£  denies,  that  there  are 
commands,  counfels,  promifes,  threatenings,  &c. 
in  the  Bible,  But  unlefs  they  do  thefe  things, 

their 


Sect.  XII.  JVhetber  theft  Principles,  &c.  385 
their  multiplying  fuch  texts  of  Scripture  is  infig- 
nificant  and  vain. 

It  may  further  be  obferved,  that  fuch  Scrip 
tures,  as  they  bring,  are  really  againft  them,  and 
not  for  them.  As  it  has  been  demonftrated,  that 
it  is  their  fcheme,  and  not  ours,  that  is  incon- 
Merit  with  the  ufe  of  motives  and  perfuafives,  or 
any  moral  means  whatfoever,  to  induce  men  to 
the  practice  of  virtue,  or  abftaining  from  wick- 
ednefs :  their  principles,  and  not  ours,  are  re 
pugnant  to  moral  agency,  and  inconfiftent  with 
moral  government,  with  law  or  precept,  with 
the  nature  of  virtue  or  vice,  reward  or  punifh- 
ment,  and  with  every  thing  whatfoever  of  a  mo 
ral  nature,  either  on  the  part  of  the  moral  gover 
nor,  or  in  the  ftate,  actions  or  conduct  of  the 
fubjeft. 

SECTION     XII. 

Of  a  fuppofed  Tendency  of  thefe  Principles  to 
Atheiim  and  Licentioufnefs. 

IF  any  object  againft  what  has  been  maintained, 
that  it  tends  to  Atbeifm  ;  I  know  not  on  what 
grounds  fuch  an  objection  can  be  raifed,  unlefs  it 
be,  that  fome  Atheifts  have  held  a  doctrine  of 
necefilty  which  they  iuppofe  to  be  like  this.  But 
if  it  be  fo,  I  am  perfuaded  the  Arminians  would 
not  look  upon  it  juft,  that  their  notion- of  free 
dom  and  contingence  Ihould  be  charged  with  a 
tendency  to  all  the  errors  that  ever  any  em 
braced,  who  have  held  fuch  opinions.  The  Stoic 
philofophers,  whom  the  Cdvinifts  are  charged  with 
agreeing  with,  were  no  Atheifts,  but  the  greateft 
Theifts,  and  nearcft  a-kin  to  Chriftians  in  their 
C  c  opinions 


3  8  6  Wether  tbefe  Principles       Part  IV. 

opinions  concerning  the  unity  and  the  perfections 
of  the  Godhead,  of  all  the  heathen  philofophets. 
And  Epicurus,  that  chief  father  of  Atheifrn,  main 
tained  no  fuch  doctrine  of  neceffity,  but  was  the 
greateft  maintainer  of  contingence. 

The  doctrine  of  neceffity,  which  fuppofes  a 
neceflary  connection  of  all  events,  on  fome  ante 
cedent  ground  and  reaibn  of  their  exigence,  is 
the  only  medium  we  have  to  prove  the  being  of 
God.  And  the  contrary  doctrine  of  contingence, 
even  as  maintained  by  Armmlans  (which  certainly 
implies  or  infers,  that  events  may  come  into  ex- 
iflence,  or  begin  to  be,  without  dependence  on 
any  thing  foregoing,  as  their  caufe,  ground  or 
reafon)  takes  away  all  proof  of  the  being  of  God; 
\vhich  proof  is  fummarily  exprefled  by  the  apoitle, 
in  Rom.  i.  20.  And  this  is  a  tendency  to  Atbeifm 
with  a  witnefs.  So  that,  indeed,  it  is  the  doctrine 
of  drminians,  and  not  of  the  Cdvimftsy  that  is 
juftly  charged  with  a  tendency  tvAtbeifm  ;  it  be 
ing  built  on  a  foundation  that  is  the  utter  fub- 
verfion  of  every  demonstrative  argument  for  the 
proof  of  a  Deity  ;  as  has  been  mown,  Part  II. 
Sed.  III. 

And  whereas  it  has  often  been  faid,  that  the 
Cahiniflic  doctrine  of  neceflity  faps  the  founda 
tions  of  all  religion  and  virtue,  and  tends  to  the 
greateft  Licentioufnefs  cf  practice  :  this  objec 
tion  is  built  on  the  pretence,  that  our  doctrine 
renders  vain  all  means  and  endeavours,  in  order 
to  be  virtuous  and  religious.  Whkh  pretence 
has  been  already  particularly  confckred  in  the  51(1 
Seffion  of  this  Part  \  where  it  has  been  c'emon- 
ftrated,  that  this  doctrine  has  no  fuch  tendency ; 
but  that  fuch  a  tendency  is  truly  to  be  charged 
on  the  contrary  doctrine :  inafmuch  as  the  no 
tion 


Sed.  XII.  tend  to  Atheifm.  387 

tion  of  contingence,  which  their  do&rine  implies, 
in  its  certain  confequences,  overthrows  all  con- 
nedtion  in  every  degree,  between  endeavour  and 
event,  means  and  end. 

And  befides,  if  many  other  things,  which  have 
been  obferved  to  belong  to  the  Armmlan  dodrine, 
or  to  be  plain  confequences  of  it,  be  confidered, 
there  will  appear  juft  realbn  to  fuppofe  that,  it  is 
that  which  mud  rather  tend  to  Licentiouihels, 
Their  doctrine  excufes  all  evil  inclinations,  which 
men  find  to  be  natural ;  becaule  in  luch  inclina 
tions,  they  are  not  felf-determined,  as  fuch  incli 
nations  are  not  owing  to  any  choice  or  deter 
mination  of  their  own  wills.     Which  leads  men 
wholly  to  juftify  themfelves  in  all  their  wicked 
actions,  fo  far  as  natural  inclination  has  had  a 
hand  in  determining  their  wills,    to  the   com- 
miflion  of  them.     Yea,  thele  notions,  which  fup 
pofe  moral  neceflity  and  inability  to  be  incon- 
iiitent  with  blame  or  moral  obligation,  will  di 
rectly  lead  men  to  juftify  the  vileft  acts  and  prac 
tices,  from  the  ftrength  of  their  wicked  inclina 
tions  of  all  forts ;  ftrong  inclinations  inducing  a 
moral  neceflity  *,  yea,  to  excufe  every  degree  of 
evil  inclination,  fo  far  as  this  has  evidently  pre 
vailed,  and  been  the  thing  which  has  determined 
their  wills :  becauie,  fo  far  as  antecedent  incli 
nation  determined  the  will,  fo  far  the  will  was 
without  liberty  of  indifference  and  felf-determi^ 
nation.     Which,  at  laft,  will  come  to  this,  that 
men  will  juftify  themfelves  in  all  the  wickedneis 
they  commit.     It  has  been  obferved  already,  that 
this  fcheme  of  things  does  exceedingly  diminilh. 
the  guilt  of  fin,  and  the  difference   between  the 
greateft  and  fmalleft   offences;    *and    if  it    be 
purfued  in  its  real  confequences,  it  leaves   room 
*  Pare  III.  Seft.  VI. 

C  p  2  for 


*S3  WJoethr  tlefe  Principles       Part  IV. 

for  no  fuch  thing,  as  either  virtue  or  vice,  blame 
or  praife  in  the  world.  *  And  then  again,  how 
naturally  does  this  notion  of  the  fovereign  ielf- 
determining  power  of  the  will,  in  all  things,  vir 
tuous  or  vicious,  and  whatsoever  deferves  either 
reward  or  punifhment,  tend  to  encourage  men 
to  put  off  the  work  of  religion  and  virtue,  and 
turning  from  fin  to  God ;  it  being  that  which 
they  have  a  fovereign  power  to  determine  them- 
felves  to,  juft  when  they  pleafc  •,  or  if  not,  they 
are  wholly  excufable  in  going  on  in  fin,  becauie 
of  their  inability  to  do  any  other. 

If  it  fhould  be  faid,  that  the  tendency  of  this 
doctrine  of  neceflity,  to  Licentioufnefs,  appears 
by  the  improvement  many  at  this  day  actually 
make  of  it,  to  juftify  themfelves  in  their  diiTolute 
couries ;  I  will  not  deny  that  fome  men  do  un- 
reafonably  abule  this  doctrine,  as  they  do  many 
other  things,  which  are  true  and  excellent  in  their 
own  nature :  but  I  deny  that  this  proves,  the 
doctrine  itfelf  has  any  tendency  to  Licentiouf 
nefs.  I  think,  the  tendency  of  doctrines,  by 
what  now  appears  in  the  world,  and  in  our  na 
tion  in  particular,  may  much  more  juilly  be  ar 
gued,  from  the  general  effect  which  has  been  feen, 
to  attend  the  prevailing  of  the  principles  of  Ar- 
minianS)  and  the  contrary  principles  ;  as  both  have 
had  their  turn  of  general  prevalence  in  our  na 
tion.  If  it  be  indeed,  as  is  pretended,  that  Cal- 
viniftic  doctrines  undermine  the  very  foundation 
or  all  religion  and  morality,  and  enervate  and 
difannul  ail  rational  motives  to  holy'  and  virtu 
ous  practice ;  and  that  the  contrary  doctrines 
give  the  inducements  to  virtue  and  goodnefs 
their  proper  force,  and  exhibit  religion  in  a  ra- 

*  Part  III.  Sc&.  VI.  Ibid.  Sett.  VII.  Part  IV.  Sea.  I. 
Part  III.  Se£.  III.  CW,  i.  after  the  firit  head. 

tional 


Sect.  XII.  tend  to  Licentioufnefs. 
tional  light,  tending  to  recommend  it  to  the  rea- 
fon  of  mankind,  and  enforce  it  in  a  manner  that 
is  agreable  to  their  natural  notions  of  things :  I 
fay,  if  it  be  thus,  it  is  remarkable,  that  virtue 
and  religious  practice  Ihonld  prevail  moft,  when 
the  former  doctrines,  ib  inconfiftent  with  it,  pre 
vailed  almofb  universally  :  and  that  ever  fince  the 
latter  doctrines,  fo  happily  agreeing  with  it,  and 
of  fo  proper  and  excellent  a  tendency  to  promote 
it,  have  been  gradually  prevailing,  vice,  pro- 
phanenefs,  luxury  and  wickednefs  of  all  forts,  and 
contempt  of  all  religion,  and  of  every  kind  of 
ferioufnefs  and  ftrictnefs  of  converfation,  mould 
proportionably  prevail ;  and  that  thefe  things 
ihould  thus  accompany  one  another,  and  rife  and 
prevail  one  with  another,  now  for  a  whole  age 
together.  It  is  remarkable,  that  this  happy  re 
medy  (difcovered  by  the  free  enquiries,  and  fu- 
perior  fenfe  and  wifdom  of  this  age)  againft  the 
pernicious  effects  of  Calvimfm^  fo  inconfiftent  with 
religion,  and  tending  fo  much  to  banilh  all  virtue 
from  the  earth,  mould,  on  fo  long  a  trial,  be  at 
tended  with  no  good  effect  -,  but  that  the  confc- 
quence  ftiould  be  the  reverie  of  amendment ;  that 
in  proportion  as  the  remedy  takes  place,  and  is 
thoroughly  applied,  fo  the  difeafe  mould  prevails 
and  the  very  fame  difmal  effect  take  place,  to  the 
higheft  degree,  which  Cafotnflic  doctrines  are  fup- 
pofed  to  have  fo  great  a  tendency  to-,  even  the 
banifhingof  religion  and  virtue,  and  the  prevail 
ing  of  unbounded  Licentioufnefs  of  manners.  If 
thefe  things  are  truly  fo,  they  are  very  remark- 
,  and  matter  of  very  curious  fpeculation. 


Ccj  SECTION 


390  0/Metaphyfical  Part  IV, 

SECTION     XIII, 

Concerning  that  Oljsftion  again/I  the  Reafoning,  by 
which  the  Calvinitlic  doftrine  is  Jupporteh  that- 
it  is  metaphyfical  and  abftrufe. 

IT  has  often  been  objected  againft  the  defenders 
of  Cafoiniftic  principles,  that  in  their  reafon- 
ings,  they  run  into  nice  fcholaftic  diftindtions, 
and  abftrufe  metaphyfical  fubtilties,  and  fet  thcfe 
in  oppolition  to  common  fenfe.  And  it  is  pofii- 
ble,  that,  after  the  former  manner,  it  may  be  al- 
ledged  againft  the  Reaibning  by  which  I  have 
endeavoured  to  confute  the  Armiman  fcheme  of 
liberty  and  moral  agency,  that  it  is  very  ab,- 

ftra&ed  and  metaphyfical. Concerning  this,  I 

would  obferve  the  following  things. 

I.  If  that  be  made  an  objc&ion  againft  the 
foregoing  Reafoning,  that  it  is  metaphysical^  or 
may  properly  be  reduced  to  the  fcience  of  rneta- 
fhyficks,  it  is  a  very  impertinent  objection  ;  whe 
ther  it  be  fo  or  no,  is  not  worthy  of  any  difpute  or 
controverfy.  If  the  Reafoning  be  good,  it  is  as 
frivolous  to  enquire  what  fcience  it  is  properly  re 
duced  to,  as  what  language  it  is  delivered  in  : 
and  for  a  man  to  go  about  to  confute  the  argu 
ments  of  his  opponent,  by  telling  him,  his  ar 
guments  are  mttapkyfical,  would  be  as  weak  as  to 
tell  him,  his  arguments  cculd  not  be  fubftantial, 
becaufe  they  were  written  in  French  or  Latin.  The 
queftion  is  not,  whether  what  is  faid  be  rneta- 
phyficks,  phyficks,  iogick,  or  mathematicks, 
Latin,  French,  Englifh,  or  Mohawk?  But  whe 
ther  the  Reafoning  be  good,  and  the  arguments 
truly  conclufive  ?  The  foregoing  arguments  are 

no 


.  XIII.     and  abftrufe  Reafoning.  391 

no  more  metaphyfical,  than  thofe  which  we  ufe 
againft  the  Papifts,  to  difprove  their  doftrine  of 
tranfubftantiation;  alledging,  it  is  inconfifteht  with 
the  notion  of  corporeal  identity,  that  it  fliould 
be  in  ten  thoufand  places  at  the  fame  time.  It 
is  by  metaphvfical  arguments  only  we  are  able 
to  prove,  that  the  rational  foul  is  not  corporeal ; 
that  lead  or  fand  cannot  think-,  that  thoughts 
are  not  fquare  or  round,  or  do  not  weigh  a 
pound.  The  arguments  by  which  we  prove 
the  being  of  God,  if  handled  clofely  and  di- 
ftindtly,  fo  as  to  mew  their  clear  and  demonftra- 
tive  evidence,  muft  be  metaphy fically  treated.  It 
is  by  metaphyficks  only,  that  we  can  demonstrate, 
that  God  is  not  limited  to  a  place,  or  is  not  mu 
table  :  that  he  is  not  ignorant,  or  forgetful ;  that 
it  is  impoffible  for  him  to  lit,  or  be  unjuft;  and 
that  there  is  one  God  only,  and  not  hundreds  or 
thoufands.  And,  indeed,  we  have  no.firift.de- 
monftration  of  any  thing,  excepting  mathema 
tical  truths,  but  by  metaphyficks.  We  can  have 
no  proof,  that  is  properly  demonftrative,  of  any 
one  propofition,  relating  to  the  being  and  nature 
of  God,  his  creation  ot  the  world,  the  depen 
dence  of  all  things  on  him,  the  nature  of  bodies 
or  fpirits,  the  nature  of  our  own  fouls,  or  any  of 
the  great  truths  of  morality  and  natural  religion, 
but  what  is  metaphyfical.  I  am  willing,  my  ar 
guments  ihould  be  brought  to  the  tell  of  the 
ilricleft  and  jnfteft  Rcafon,  and  that  a  clear,  di- 
ilincl:  and  determinate  meaning  of  the  terms  1  ufe, 
Ihould  be  infilled  on-,  but  let  not  the  whole  be 
rejected,  as  if  all  were  confuted,  by  fixing  on  it 
the  epithet,  metaphyfical. 

II.  If  the  reafoning,  which  has  been  made  ufe 

of,  be  in  feme  fenfe  metaphyfical,  it  will  not  fol- 

C  c  4 


0/Metaphyfical  Part  IV. 

low,  that  therefore  it  mutt  needs  be  abftrufe,  un 
intelligible,  and  a-kin  to  the  jargon  of  the  fchools. 
I  humbly  conceive,  the  foregoing  reafoning,  at 
leaft  to  thofe  things  which  are  moft  material  be 
longing  to  it,  depends  on  no  abflrufe  definitions 
or  diftinctions,  or  terms  without  a  meaning,  or 
of  very  ambiguous  and  undetermined  fignifica- 
tion,  or  any  points  of  fuch  abflraction  and  iub- 
tilty,  as  tends  to  involve  the  attentive  under- 
Handing  in  clouds  and  darknefs.  There  is  no 
high  degree  of  refinement  and  abitrufe  fpecula- 
tion,  in  determining,  that  a  thing  is  not  before 
it  is,  and  fo  cannot  be  the  caufe  of  itfelf  •,  or  that 
the  firft  aft  of  free  choice,  has  not  another  act 
of  free  choice  going  before  that,  to  excite  or  di 
rect  it;  or  in  determining,  that  no  choice  is  made, 
while  the  mind  remains  "in  a  flate  of  abfolute  in 
difference  ;  that  preference  and  equilibrium  never 
co-exift  ;  and  that  therefore  no  choice  is  made  in 
a  (late  of  liberty,  confiding  in  indifference :  and 
that  fo  far  as  the  will  is  determined  by  motives, 
exhibited  and  operating  previous  to  the  act  of 
the  will,  fo  far  it  is  not  determined  by  the  act  of 
the  will  itfelf;  that  nothing  can  begin  to  be, 
which  before  was  not,  without  a  caufe,  or 
fome  antecedent  ground  or  reafon,  why  it  then 
begins  to  be  ;  that  effects  depend  cm  their  cauies, 
and  are  connected  with  them  ;  that  virtue  is  nor 
the  worfe,  nor  fin  the  better,  for  the  ftrength  of 
inclination,  with  which  it  is  practifed,  and  the 
difficulty  which  thence  arifes  of  doing  otherwife  ; 
that  when  it  is  already  infallibly  known,  that  the 
thing  will  be,  it  is  not  a  thing  contingent  whe 
ther  it  will  ever  be  or  no  •,  or  that  it  can  be  truly 
iaid,  notwithftanding,  that  it  is  not  neceffary  it 
fhould  be,  but  it  either  may  be,  or  may  not  be. 
And  the  like  might  be  obfervcd  of  many  other 

thing^ 


Seel.  XIII.     and  abftrufe  Reafoning.  393 

things   which    belong   to    the   foregoing   Rea 
foning. 

If  any  (hall  ftill  ftand  to  it,  that  the  foregoing 
Reafoning  is  nothing  but  metaphyfical  fophiftry  ; 
and  that  it  muft  be  fo,  that  the  feeming  force  of 
the  arguments  all  depends  on  fome  fallacy  and 
wile  that  is  hid  in  the  obfcurity,  which  always 
attends  a  great  degree  of  metaphyfical  abftrac- 
tion  and  refinement-,  and  fliall  be  ready  to  fay, 
"  Here  is  indeed  fomething  that  tends   to  con- 
"  found  the  mind,  but  not  to  fatisfy  it :  for  who 
"  can  ever  be  truly  fatisfied  in  it,  that  men  are 
"  fitly  blamed  or  commended,  punifhed  or  re- 
"  warded  for  thofe  volitions  which  are  not  from 
«c  themfelves,  and  of  whofe  exiftence  they  are 
"  not  the  caufes.     Men  may  refine,  as  much  as 
"  they  pleafe,  and  advance  their  abftracl  noti- 
"  ons,  and  make  out  a  thoufand  feeming  con- 
v  traditions,  to  puzzle  our  underftandings  ;  yet 
*c  there  can  be  no  fatisfaction  in  fuch  doctrine  as 
"  this  :  the  natural  fenfe  of  the  mind  of  man 
?c  will  always  refill  it,"*  I  humbly  conceive,  that 

fuch 

*  A  certain  noted  Author  of  the  prefent  age  fays,  the  ar 
guments  for  necejjity  are  nothing  but  quibbling,  or  logomachy, 
ujing  words  without  a  meaning  or  begging  the  queftion. — I  do 
not  know  what  kind  of  neceffity  any  authors,  he  may  have  re 
ference  to,  are  advocates  for  ;  or  whether  they  have  managed 
their  arguments  well,  or  ill.  As  to  the  arguments  I  have 
made  ufe  of,  if  they  are  quibbles  they  may  be  fhewn  fo :  fuch 
knots  are  capable  of  being  untied,  and  the  trick  and  cheat 
may  be  detected  and  plainly  laid  open.  If  this  be  fairly  done, 
with  refped  to  the  grounds  and  reafons  I  have  relied  upon, 
I  mall  have  juft  occafion,  for  the  future,  to  be  filent,  if  not  to 
be  alhamed  of  my  argumentations.  I  am  willing  my  proofs 
fhould  be  thoroughly  examined ;  and  if  there  be  nothing  but 
legging  the  qiieftion,  or  meer  logomachy,  or  difpute  of  words, 
let  it  be  made  manifeft,  and  fnewn  how  the  feeming  ftrength 
*  of 


394  Of  Metaphyfical  Part  IV. 

fuch  an  objeclor,  if  he  has  capacity  and  hu 
mility  and  calmnefs  of  fpirit,  fufficient  imparts 
ally  and  thoroughly  to  examine  himfelf,  will  find 
that  he  knows  not  really  what  he  would  be  at  ; 
and  indeed,  his  difficulty  is  nothing  but  a  meer 
prcjudice,  from  an  inadvertent  cuitomary  ufc  of 
words,  in  a  meaning  that  is  not  clearly  under- 

ilood, 


of  the  argument  depends  on  my  ufing  <aW/  without  a  mean- 
/»?,  cr^arifes  from  the  ambiguity  of  terns,  or  my  making  ufc 
of  words  in  an  indeterminate  and  unfteady  manner;  and  that 
the  weight  of  my  reafons  .reft  mainly  on  iuch  a  foundation.: 
and  then,  I  mall  either  be  ready  to  retradl  what  I  have  urged, 
and  thank  the  man  that  has  done  the  kind  part,  or  mail  be 
juilly  expofed  for  my  obilinacy. 

The  fame  Author  is  abundant  in  appealing,  in  this  affair, 
from  what  he  calls  logomachy  and  fopbijlry^  to  expedience.  __ 
A  perfon  can  experience  only  what  pafles  in  his  own  mind. 
But  yet,  as  we  may  well  fuppofe,  that  all  men  have  the  fame 
human  faculties  ;  fo  a  man  may  well  argue  from  his  own  ex 
perience  to  that  of  others,  in  things  that  mew  the  nature  of 
thofe  faculties,  and  the  manner  of  their  operation.    But  then 
one  has  as  good  right  to  alledge  his  experience,   as  another. 
As  to  my  own  experience,  I  find,  that  in  innumerable  things 
I  can  do  as  I  will  ;  that  the  motions  of  my  body,  in  many  re- 
fpe&s,  inftantaneoufly  follow  the  ads  of  my  will  concerning 
thofe  motions  ;  and  that  my  will  has  fome  command  of  my 
thoughts  ;  and  that  the  ads  of  my  will  are  my  own,  /.  e. 
that  they  are  ads  of  my  will,  the  volitions  of  my  own  mind  ; 
or,  in  other  words,  that  what  1  will,  I  will.      Which,  1  pre- 
•fume,  is  the  fum  of  what   others  experience   in  this  affair. 
But  as  to  finding  by  experience,  that  my  will  is  originally 
determined  by  itlelf  ;  or  that,  my  will  firft  chufmg  what  voli 
tion  there  fhall  be,   the  chofen  volition  accordingly  follows  ; 
and  that  this  is  the  firft  rife  of  the  determination  o'f  my  will 
in  any  affair  ;  \^r  that  any  volition  rifes  in  my  mind  contin 
gently  ;  I  declare,  I  know  nothing  in  myfelf,  by  experience, 
of  this  nature  ;  and  nothing  that  ever  I  experienced,  carries 
the  leaft  appearance  or  madow  of  any  fuch  thing,  or  gives 
me  any  more  reafon  to  fuppofe  or  fufped  any  fuch  thing, 
than  to  fuppofe  that  my  volitions  exifted  twenty  years  before 
they  exifted.     It  is  true,  I  find  rnyielf  poffeffed  of  my  voliti 
ons,  before  I  can  fee  the  effectual  power  of  any  caufe  to  pro 
duce  them  (for  the  power  and  efficacy  of  the  caufe  is  not  feen 

but 


Se&.  XIII.     and  abftrufe  Reafoning,  395 

flood,  nor  carefully  refle&ed  upon. Let  the 

objeclor  reflecl  again,  if  he  has  candor  and  pati 
ence  enough,  and  does  not  fcorn  to  be  at  the  trou 
ble  of  clofe  attention  in  the  affair.— He  would 
have  a  man's  volition  be  from  himfelf.  Let  it  be 
from  bimjelf,  rnoft  primarily  and  originally  of  any 
way  conceivable ;  that  is,  from  his  own^ choice: 
how  will  that  help  the  matter,  as  to  his  being 
juftly  blamed  or  praifed,  unlefs  that  choice  itfelf 
be  blame  or  praife- worthy  ?  And  how  is  the  choice 
itfelf  (an  ill  choice,  for  inflance;  blame- worthy, 
according  to  thefe  principles,  unlefs  that  be  from 
himfelf  too,  in  the  fame  manner ;  that  is,  from 
his  own  choice  ?  But  the  original  and  firft-deter- 
mining  choice  in  the  affair  is  not^from  his  choice: 

his  choice  is  not  the  caufe  of  it. And  if  it 

be  from  himfelf  fome  other  way,  and  not  from 
his  choice,  furely  that  will  not  help  the  matter : 
If  it  be  not  from  himfelf  of  choice,  then  it  is  not 
from  himfelf  voluntarily  -,  and  if  fo,  he  is  furely 
no  more  to  blame,  than  if  it  were  not  from  him 
felf  at  all.  It  is  a  vanity,  to  pretend  it  is  a  fuf- 
ficient  anfwer  to  this,  to  fay,  that  it  is  nothing 
but  metaphyfical  refinement  and  fubtilty,  and  fo 
attended  with  obfcurity  and  uncertainty. 

If  it  be  the  natural  fenfe  of  our  minds,  that 
what  is  blame-worthy  in  a  man  muft  be  from 
himfelf,  then  it  doubtlefs  is  allb,  that  it  muft  be 
from  ibmething  bad  in  himfelf,  a  bad  choice,  or 

but  by  the  effeft)  and  this,  for  ought  I  know,  may  make  fome 
imagine,  that  volition  has  no  caufe,  or  that  it  produces  it 
felf.  But  I  have  no  more  reafon  from  hence  to  determine 
any  fuch  thing,  than  I  have  to  determine  that  I  gave  myfelf 
my  own  being,  or  that  I  came  into  being  accidentally  with 
out  a  caufe,  becaufe  I  firft  found  myfelf  poffefled  of  being, 
before  I  had  knowledge  of  a  caufe  of  my  being. 

lad 


396  Of  Metaphyfical  Reafoning.  Part  IV, 
bad  difpofition.  But  then  our  natural  fenfe  is,  that 
this  bad  choice  or  difpofition  is  evil  in  iifelf,  and 
the  man  blame-worthy  for  it,  on  its  own  account, 
•without  taking  into  our  notion  of  its  blame- 
worthinefs,  another  bad  choice,  or  difpofition 
going  before  this,  from  whence  this  arifes :  for 
that  is  a  ridiculous  abfurdity,  running  us  into  an 
immediate  contradiction,  which  our  natural  fenfe 
of  blame- worthinefs  has  nothing  to  do  with,  and 
never  comes  into  the  mind,  nor  is  fuppofed  in  the 
judgment  we  naturally  make  of  the  affair.  As 
was  demonilrated  before,  natural  fenfe  does  not 
place  the  moral  evil  of  volitions  and  difpofitions 
in  the  caule  of  them,  but  the  nature  of  them. 
An  evil  thing's  being  FROM  a  man,  or  from 
fornething  antecedent  in  him,  is  not,  elfential  to 
the  original  notion  we  have  of  blame- worthinefs  : 
but  it  is  its  being  the  choice  of  the  heart ;  as 
appears  by  this,  that  if  a  thing  be  from  us,  and 
not  from  our  choice,  it  has  not  the  nature  of 
blame- worthinefs  or  ill-defert,  according  to  our 
natural  fenfe.  When  a  thing  is  from  a  man,  in 
that  fenfe,  that  it  is  from  his  will  or  choice,  he 
is  to  blarne  for  it,  becaufe  his  will  is  IN  IT :  fo 
far  as  the  will  is  in  it,  blame  is  in  it,  and  no  fur 
ther.  Neither  do  we  go  any  further  in  our  no 
tion  of  blame,  to  enquire  whether  the  bad  will 
be  FROM  a  bad  will :  there  is  no  confidera- 
tion  of  the  original  of  that  bad  will ;  becaufe, 
acQording  to  our  natural  appreheiiiion,  blame 
vriginally  conftjls  in  it,  Therefore  a  thing's  being 
from  a  man,  is  a  fecondary  confederation,  in  the 
notion  of  blame  or  iil-defert.  Becaufe  thofq 
things,  in  our  external  aclions,  are  moil  properly 
faid  to  be  from  us,  which  are  from  our  choice ; 
and  no  other  external  aclions,  but  thofe  that  arc 
from  us  in  this  fenfe,  have  the  nature  of  blame 


Sect.  XIII.  A  Fault  of  Arminian  Writers.  397 
and  they  indeed,  not  fo  properly  becaufe  they  are 
from  us,  as  becaufe  we  are  in  them,  i.  e.  our  wills 
'are  in  them  -,  not  fo  much  becaufe  they  are  from 
fome  property  of  ours,  as  becaufe  they  are  our 
properties. 

However,  all  thefe  external  actions  being  truly 
from  us,  as  their  caufe  •,  and  we  being  fo  nfed,  in 
ordinary  fpeech,  and  in  the  common  affairs  of 
life,  to  fpeak  of  men's  actions  and  conduct 
that  we  fee,  and  that  affect  human  fociety,  as 
deferving  ill  or  well,  as  worthy  of  blame  or 
praife  •,  hence  it  is  come  to  pafs,  that  philofophers 
have  incautioufly  taken  all  their  meafures  of 
good  and  evil,  praife  and  blame,  from  the  dic 
tates  of  common  ienfe,  about  thefe  overt  affs  of 
men  ;  to  the  running  of  every  thing  into  the  molt 
lamentable  and  dreadful  confufion.  And,  there 
fore,  I  obferve, 

III.  It  is  fo  far  from  being  true  (whatever  may 
be  pretended)  that  the  proof  of  the  doctrine 
which  has  been  maintained,  depends  on  certain 
abilrufe,  unintelligible,  metaphyfical  terms  and 
notions  ^  and  that  the  Armiman  fcheme,  without 
needing  fuch  clouds  and  darknefs  for  its  de 
fence,  is  fupported  by  the  plain  dictates  of  com 
mon  ienfe ;  that  the  very  reverfe  is  moil  cer^ 
tainly  true,  and  that  to  a  great  degree.  It  is  fact, 
that  they,  and  not  we,  have  confounded  things 
with  metaphyfical,  unintelligible  notions  and 
phrafes,  and  have  drawn  them  from  the  light  of 
plain  truth,  into  the  grofs  darknefs  of  abiirufe 
metaphyfical  proportions,  and  words  without  a 
meaning.  Their  pretended  demonflrations  de 
pend  very  much  on  fuch  unintelligible,  meta 
phyfical  phrafes,  as  f elf- determination,  and  five- 
reignty  of  the  will',  and  the  metaphyfical  fenfe 
they  put  on  fuch  terms,  as  neceffity,  contingency , 

action* 


398  Arminians  too  metaplyJtcaL     Part  IV. 

aftion,  agency,  &c.  quite  diverfe  from  their  mean 
ing  as  ufed  in  common  fpeech  ;  and  which,  as 
they  ufe  them,  are  without  any  cohfiftent  mean 
ing,  or  any  manner  of  diftinc~t  confident  ideas  ; 
as  far  from  it  as  any  of  the  abftrufe  terms  and 
perplexed  phrafes  of  the '  peripatetick  philofo- 
phers,  or  the  moil  unintelligible  jargon  of  the 
fchools,  or  the  cant  of  the  wildeft  fanaticks. 
Yea,  we  may  be  bold  to  fay,  thefe  metaphyfical 
terms,  on  which  they  build  fo  much,  are  what 
they  ufe  without  knowing  what  they  mean  them- 
felvcs ;  they  are  pure  metaphyfical  founds,  with 
out  any  ideas  whatsoever  in  their  minds  to  an- 
fwer  them ;  inafmuch  as  it  has  been  demonftra- 
ted,  that  there  cannot  be  any  notion  in  the  mind 
confiftent  with  thefe  expreffions,  as  they  pretend 
to  explain  them  -,  becaufe  their  explanations  de- 
ftroy  themfelves.  No  fuch  notions  as  imply  felf- 
contradiclion,  and  felf-abolition,  and  this  a  great 
many  ways,  can  fubfift  in  the  mind ;  as  there 
can  be  no  idea  of  a  whole  which  is  lefs  than 
any  of  its  parts,  or  of  lolid  extenlion  without 
dimenfions,  or  of  an  effect  which  is  before  its 
caufe.—  — Arminians  improve  thefe  terms,  as 
terms  of  art,  and  in  their  metaphyfical  mean 
ing,  to  advance  and  eflablifh  thoie  things  which 
are  contrary  to  common  fenfe,  in  a  high  degree. 
Thus,  initead  of  the  plain  vulgar  notion  of  li 
berty,  which  all  mankind,  in  every  part  of  the 
face  of  the  earth,  and  in  all  ages,  have ;  con- 
filling  in  opportunity  to  do  as  one  pleafes ;  they 
have  introduced  a  new  ftrange  liberty,  con- 
fifting  in  indifference,  contingence,  and  felf  de 
termination  ;  by  which  they  involve  themfelves 
and  others  in  great  obfcurity,  and  manifold  grofs 
inconfiilence.  So,  infread  of  placing  virtue  and 
vice,  as  common  fcnfe  places  them  very  much, 

in 


Sedh  XIII.  Arminians  too  metapbyfical.  399 
in  fixed  bias  and  inclination,  and  greater  virtue 
and  vice  in  ftronger  and  more  eftabiifhed  inclin- 
tion ;  thefe,  through  their  refinings  and  abftrufe 
notions,  fuppofe  a  liberty  confiiting  in  indiffe 
rence,  to  be  eflential  to  all  virtue  and  vice. 
So  they  have  reafoned  themfelves,  not  by  meta- 
phyiical  diftinctions,  but  metaphylical  confu- 
fion,  into  many  principles  about  moral  agency, 
blame,  praife,  reward  and  puniihment,  which 
are,  as  has  been  ihewn,  exceeding  contrary  to 
the  common  fenfe  of  mankind  -,  and  perhaps  to 
their  own  fenfe,  which  governs  them  in  common 
life. 


T  J I  E 


(    4°°     ) 


THE 


CONCLUSION. 

WHETHER  the  things  which  have  been 
alledged,  are  liable  to  any  tolerable  an- 
fwer  in  the  ways  of  calm,  intelligible  and  ftrict 
realbning,  I  muft  leave  others  to  judge :  but  I 
am  fenfiblc  they  are  liable  to  one  fort  of  anfwer. 
It  is  not  unlikely,  that  fome,  who  value  themfelves 
on  the  fuppofed  rational  and  generous  principles 
of  the  modern  fafhionable  divinity,  will  have  their 
indignation  and  difdain  railed  at  the  fight  of  this 
dilcourfe,  and  on  perceiving  what  things  are 
pretended  to  be  proved  in  it.  And  if  they  think 
it  worthy  of  being  read,  or  of  io  much  notice  as 
to  fay  much  about  it,  they  may  probably  renew 
the  ufual  exclamations,  with  additional  vehe 
mence  and  contempt,  about  the  fate  of  the  hex* 
then,  Hobbes's  Necejjity^  and  making  men  meer 
machines ;  accumulating  the  terrible  epithets  of 
fatal,  unfrufirabie,  inevitable,  Irrefijlible^  &c.  and 
it  may  be,  with  the  addition  of  horrid  and  blaj- 
fhemous ;  and  perhaps  much  fkill  may  be  ufed  to 
fet  forth  things,  which  have  been  faid,  in  colours 
which  (hall  be  mocking  to  the  imaginations,  and 
moving  to  the  paffions  of  thole,  who  have  either 
too  little  capacity,  or  too  much  confidence  of  the 

opinions 


CONCLUSION.     401 

opinions  they  have  imbibed,    and  contempt  of 
the  contrary,  to  try  the  matter  by  any  ferious  and 
circumfped:  examination*.     Or  difficulties  may 
be  ftarted  and  infilled  on,  which  do  not  belong  to 
the  controverfy  ;  becaufe,  Jet  them  be  more  or 
Jefs  real,  and  hard   to  be  refolved,  they  are  not 
what   are   owing  to  any  thing  diftinguiihing  of 
this  fcheme  from  that  of  the  Arminians*  and  would 
not  be  removed  nor  diminimed  by  renouncing  the 
former,  and  adhering  to  the  latter.     Orfome  par 
ticular  things   may  be  picked  out,  which  they 
may  think  will  found  harfheft  in  the  ears  of  the 
generality;  and  thefe   may   be   gloffed   and  de- 
icantecl  on,  with  tart  and  contemptuous  words ; 
and  from  thence,  the  whole  treated  with  triumph 
and  infult. 

It  is  eafy  to  fee,  how  the  deciflon  of  moft  of  the 
points  in  controverfy,  between  Cafoinifts  and  Ar- 
minians,  depends  on  the  determination  of  this  grand 
article  concerning  the  Freedom  of  the  Will  requifite 
to  moral  agency  ;  and  that  by  clearing  and  efta- 

*  A  writer,  of  the  prefent  age,  whom  I  have  feveral  times 
had  occasion  to  mention,  fpeaks  once  and  again  of  tliofe  who 
hold  the  doctrine  of  Necejjity,  as  fcarcely  worthy  of  the  name 

of  philofopbers. 1  do  not  know,  whether  he  has  refpecl  to 

any  particular  notion  of  neceiTity,  that  fome  may  have  main 
tained  ;  and,  if  fo,  what  doctrine  of  neceffity  it  is  that  he 

means. Whether  I  am  worthy  of  the  name  of  a  philofo- 

pher,  or  not,  would  be  a  queftion  little  to  the  prefent  pur- 
pofe.  If  any,  and  ever  fo  many,  mould  deny  it,  I  fliould 
not  think  it  worth  the  while  to  enter  into  a  difpute  on  that 
queftion :  though  at  the  fame  time  I  might  expeft,  fome 
better  ani'wer  mould  be  given  to  the  arguments  brought  for 
the  truth  of  the  doctrine  I  maintain  ;  and  1  might  further  rea- 
fonably  defire,  that  it  might  be  confidered,  whether  it  does 
not  become  thofe,  who  are  truly  worthy  of  the  name  of  philc- 
fopheis,  to  be  fenfible,  that  there  is  a  difference  between  ar 
gument  and  contempt  i  yea,  and  a  difference  between  the  con- 
temptiblenefc  of  the  perfon  that  argues,  and  the  inconclufive- 
nefs  of  the  arguments  he  offers. 

D  d  blifhing 


402,     Me    CONCLUSION. 

blifhing  the  Calvinijlic  doctrine  in  this  point,  the 
chief  arguments  are  obviated,  by  which  Armirium 
doctrines  in  general  are  fupported,  and  the  con 
trary  doctrines  demonftratively  confirmed.  Here 
by  it  becomes  manifeft,  that  God's  moral  govern 
ment  over  mankind,  his  treating  them  as  moral 
agents,  making  them  the  objects  of  his  com 
mands,  counfels,  calls,  warnings,  expoftulations, 
promifes,  threatenings,  rewards  and  puniihments, 
is  not  inconfiftent  with  a  determining  difpofal  of 
all  events,  of  every  kind,  throughout  the  uni- 
verfe,  in  his  Providence  ;  either  by  politive  effici 
ency,  or  permiflion.  Indeed,  fuch  an  univerfal 
determining  Providence,  infers  fome  kind  of  ne 
ceflity  of  all  events,  fuch  a  necefilty  as  implies 
an  infallible  previous  fixednefs  of  the  futurity  of 
the  event :  but  no  other  neceflity  of  moral  events, 
or  volitions  of  intelligent  agents,  is  needful  in 
order  to  this,  than  moral  neceffity  ;  which  does 
as  much  afcertain  the  futurity  of  the  event,  as 
any  other  neceffity.  But,  as  has  been  demon- 
ftrated,  fuch  a  neceflity  is  not  at  all  repugnant 
to  moral  agency,  and  a  reafonable  ufe  of  com 
mands,  calls,  rewards,  punifhments,  £cc.  Yea, 
not  only  are  objections  of  this  kind  againft  the 
doctrine  of  an  univerfal  determining  Providence,  re 
moved  by  what  has  been  laid  •,  but  the  truth  of 
fuch  a  doctrine  is  demonftrated.  As  it  has  been 
demonftrated,  that  the  futurity  of  all  future  events 
is  eftablilhed  by  previous  neceflity,  either  na 
tural  or  moral  •,  fo  it  is  manifeil,  that  the  fove- 
reign  Creator  and  Difpofer  of  the  world  has  or 
dered  this  neceflity,  by  ordering  his  awn  conduct, 
either  in  defignedly  acting,  or  forbearing  to  act. 
For,  as  the  being  of  the  world  is  from  God,  fo 
the  circumflances  in  which  it  had  its  being  at 
firft,  both  negative  and  pofitive,  mud  be  ordered 
by  him,  in  one  of  thefe  ways  ;  and  all  the  necef- 

fary 


Me    CONCLUSION.     403 

fary  confequences  of  thefe  circumftances,  muft 
be  ordered  by  him.  And  God's  active  and  pofi- 
tive  interpolations,  after  the  world  was  created, 
and  the  confequences  of  thefe  interpofitions-,  alfo 
every  inilance  of  his  forbearing  to  interpofe,  and 
the  lure  confequences  of  this  forbearance,  muft 
ail  be  determined  according  to  his  pleafure.  And 
therefore  every  event,  which  is  the  confequence 
of  any  thing  whatfoever,  or  that  is  connected 
with  any  foregoing  thing  or  circumftance,  either 
pofitive  or  negative,  as  the  ground  or  reafon  of 
its  exigence,  muft  be  ordered  of  God  ;  either  by 
a  defigning  efficiency  and  interpofition,  or  a  de- 
figned  forbearing  to  operate  or  interpofe.  But,  as 
has  been  proved,  all  events  whatsoever  are  necel- 
iarily  connected  with  fomething  foregoing,  either 
pofitive  or  negative,  which  is  the  ground  of  its 
exiftence.  It  follows,  therefore,  that  the  whole 
feries  of  events  is  thus  connected  with  fomething 
in  the  ftate  of  things,  either  pofitive  or  negative, 
which  is  original  in  the  feries ;  i.  e.  fomething 
which  is  connected  with  nothing  preceding  that, 
but  God's  own  immediate  conduct,  either  his  act 
ing  or  forbearing  to  act.  From  whence  it  follows, 
that  as  God  defignedly  orders  his  own  conduct, 
and  its  connected  confequences,  it  mult  necefla- 
rily  be,  that  he  defignedly  orders  all  things. 

The  things,  which  have  been  faid,  obviate  fomc 
of  the  chief  objections  of  Armenians  againft  the 
Cafoinijlic  doctrine  of  the  total  depravity  and  cor 
ruption  of  man's  nature,  whertby  his  heart  is 
•wholly  under  the  power  of  fin,  and  he  is  utterly 
unable,  without  the  interpofition  of  fovereign 
grace,  favingly  to  love  God,  believe  in  Chrift, 
or  do  any  thing  that  is  truly  good  and  acceptable 
in  God's  fight.  For  the  main  objection  againft 
this  doctrine  is,  that  it  is  inconfiftent  with  the 
D  d  z  freedom 


404     *fe    CONCLUS1O  N, 
freedom  of  man's  will,  confifting  in  indifference 
and  fclf-determining  power  •,  becaufe  it  iuppofes 
man  to  be  under  a  neceffity  of  finning,  and  that 
God  requires  things  of  him,  in  order  to  his  avoid 
ing  eternal  damnation,  which  he  is  unable  to  do; 
and  that  this  doctrine  is  wholly  incontinent  with 
the  fincerity  of  counfds,  invitations,  &c.    Now, 
this  doctrine  fuppofes  no  other  neceffity  of  finning, 
than  a  moral  necdfity ;  which,  as  has  been  Ihewn, 
does  not  at  all  excufe  fin ;  and  fuppofes  no  other 
inability  to  obey  any  command,  or  perform  any 
duty,  even  the  moft  fpiritnal  and  exalted,  but  a 
moral  inability,  which,  as  has  been  proved,  does 
not  excufe  perfons  in  the  non-performance  of  any 
good  thing,  or  make  them  not  to  be  the  proper 
objects  of  commands,  couniels  and  invitations. 
And,  moreover,  it  has  been  fhewn,  that  there  is 
not,  and  never  can  be,  cither  in  exidence,  or  fo 
much  as  in  idea,  any  fuch  freedom  of  will,  con- 
lifting  in  indifference  and  felf-determination,  for 
the  fake  of  which,  this  doctrine  of  original  fm  is 
caft  out  •,  and  that  no  fuch  freedom  is  necefTary, 
in  order  to  the  nature  of  fin,  and  a  juft  defert  of 
puniflimcnt. 

The  things,  which  have  been  cbferved,  do  alfo 
take  off  the  main  objections  of  Armenians  againft 
the  doctrine  of  efficacious  grace ;  and,  at  the  fame 
time,  prove  the  grace  of  God  in  a  finner's  con- 
verfion  (if  there  be. any  grace  or  divine  influence 
in  the  affair)  to  be  efficacious,  yea,  and  irrejtftible 
too,  if  by  irreriftible  is  meant,  that  which  is  at 
tended  with  a  moral  necemty,  which -it  is  impof- 
fible  iliould  ever  be  violated  by  any  refinance. 
The  main  objection  of  Anninians  againft  this  doc 
trine  is,  that  it  is  inconfifcnt  with  their  felf-deter- 
raining  freedom  of  will  ;  and  that  it  is  repug 
nant  to  the  nature  of  virtue,  that  it  fhould  be 

wrought 


tte    CONCLUSION.     405 

wrought  in  the  heart  by  the  determining  efficacy 
and  power  of  another,  inftead  of  its  being  owing 
to  a  felf-moving  power ;  that,  in  that  cafe,  the 
good  which  is  wrought,  would  not  be  our  virtue, 
but  rather  God's  virtue  ;  becaufe  it  is  not  the  per- 
fon  in  whom  it  is  wrought,  that  is  the  determin 
ing  author  of  it,  but  God  that  wrought  it  in  him. 
But  the  things,  which  are  the  foundation  of  thefe 
objections,  have  been  confidered  ;  and  it  has  been 
demonilrated,  that  the  liberty  of  moral  agents 
does  not  confifl  in  felf-dete rmining  power  ;  and 
that  there  is  no  need  of  any  fuch  liberty,  in  order 
to  the  nature  of  virtue;  nor  does  it  at  all  hinder, 
but  that  the  (late  or  act  of  the  will  may  be  the 
virtue  of  the  fubject,  though  it  be  not  from  felf- 
determination,  but  the  determination  of  an  in- 
trinfic  cauie  ;  even  fo  as  to  caufe  the  event  to  be 
morally  necefTary  to  tire  fubject  of  it.  And  as 
it  has  been  proved,  that  nothing  in  the  ftate  or 
acts  of  the  will  of  man  is  contingent ;  but  that, 
on  the  contrary,  every  event  of  this  kind  is  ne- 
ceffary,  by  a  moral  necefllty  ;  and  has  alfo  been 
now  demonilrated,  that  the  doctrine  of  an  uni- 
verfal  determining  Providence,  follows  from  that 
doctrine  of  neceflity,  which  was  proved  before: 
and  fo,  that  God  does  decilively,  in  his  Provi 
dence,  order  all  the  volitions  of  moral  agents, 
either  by  pofitive  influence  or  permiffion :  and 
it  being  allowed,  on  all  hands,  that  what  God 
does  in  the  affair  of  man's  virtuous  volitions, 
whether  it  be  more  or  lefs,  is  by  fome  pofitive  in 
fluence,  and  not  by  meer  permiilion,  as  in  the 
affair  of  a  finful  volition  :  if  we  put  thefe  things 
together,  it  will  follow,  that  God's  afilftance  or 
influence,  mud  be ,  determining  and  decifive,  or 
muft  be  attended  with  a  moral  neceflity  of  the 
event  -,  and  fo,  that  God  gives  virtue,  holinefs 
and  converfion  to  finners,  by  an  influence  which 
D  d  3  deter- 


4o6     ^CONCLUSION. 

jdetermines  the  effect,  in  fuch  a  manner,  that  the1 
effect  will  infallibly  follow  by  a  moral  neceflity ; 
which  is  what  Oahimfts  mean  by  efficacious  and 
irrenftible  grace. 

The  things,  which  have  been  faid,  do  likewife 
anfwer  the  chief  objections  againft  the  doclrine 
of  God's  univerfal  and  alfolute  decree^  and  afford 
infallible  proof  of  this  doctrine  •,  and  of  the  doc 
trine  of  abfolute,  eternal,  perfonal  election  in  par 
ticular.  The  main  objections  againtl  thefe  doc 
trines  are,  that  they  infer  a  neceffity  of  the  voli 
tions  of  moral  agents,  and  of  the  future  moral 
ftate  and  acts  of  men  ;  and  fo  are  not  confident 
with  thofe  eternal  rewards  and  punifhments, 
which  are  connected  with  converfion  and  impe 
nitence  ;  nor  can  be  made  to  agree  with  the  rea- 
fonablenefs  and  fincerity  of  the  precepts,  calls, 
counfels,  warnings  and  expoftulations  of  the 
Word  of  God  ;  or  with  the  various  methods  and 
means  of  grace,  which  God  ufes  with  linners,  to 
bring  them  to  repentance  ;  and  the  whole  of  that 
moral  government,  which  God  exercifes  towards 
mankind  :  and  that  they  infer  an  inconfiftence 
between  the  fecret  and  revealed  Will  of  God  \  and 
make  God  the  author  of  fin.  But  all  thefe  things 
have  been  obviated  in  the  preceding  difconrie. 
And  the  certain  truth  of  thefe  doctrines,  con 
cerning  God's  eternal  purpofes,  will  follow  from 
what  was  juft  now  obferved  concerning  God's  uni- 
yerfal  Providence;  how  it  infallibly  follows  from 
what  has  been  proved,  that  God  orders  all  events, 
and  the  volitions  of  moral  agents  amongft  others, 
by  fuch  a  decifive  difpofal,  that  the  events  are 
infallibly  connected  with  his  difpofal.  For  if  God 
difpofes  all  events,  fo  that  the  infallible  exigence 
of  the  events  is  decided  by  his  Providence,  then 
he,  doubtlefs,thus  orders  and  decides  things  kwnv- 


The    CONCLUSION.      407 

ingly,  and  on  defign.  God  does  not  do  what-  he 
does,  nor  order  what  he  orders,  accidentally  and 
unawares  ;  either  without,  or  be/id e  his  intention. 
And  if  there  be  a  foregoing  defign  of  doing  and  or 
dering  as  he  does,  this  is  the  fame  with  n  purpofe 
or  decree.  And  as  it  has  been  fliewn,  that  nothing 
is  new  to  God,  in  any  refpect,  but  all  things  arc 
perfectly  and  equally  in  his  view  from  eternity ; 
hence  it  will  follow,  that  his  defigns  or  purpofes 
are  not  things  formed  anew,  founded  on  any 
new  views  or  appearances,  but  are  all  eternal 
purpofes.  And  as  it  has  been  now  fhewn,  how 
the  doctrine  of  determining  efficacious  grace  cer 
tainly  follows  from  things  proved  in  the  forego 
ing  difcourfe ;  hence  will  necefiarily  follow  the 
doctrine  of  particular,  eternal,  abfolute  election. 
For  if  men  are  made  true  faints,  no  otherwife 
than  as  God  makes  them  fo,  and  diftinguifhes 
them  from  others,  by  an  efficacious  power  and  in 
fluence  of  his,  that  decides  and  fixes  the  event ; 
and  God  thus  makes  fome  faints,  and  not  others, 
on  defign  or  purpofe,  and  (as  has  been  now  obfer*- 
ved)  no  defigns  of  God  are  new  •,  it  follows,  that 
God  thus  diitinguifhed  from  others,  all  that  ever 
become  true  faints,  by  his  eternal  defign  or  decree. 
I  might  alfo  mew,  how  God's  certain  foreknow 
ledge  muft  fuppole  an  abfolute  decree,  and  how 
fucii  a  decree  can  be  proved  to  a  demonstration 
from  it :  but  that  this  difcourfe  may  not  be 
lengthened  out  too  much,  that  muft  be  omitted 
for  the  prefent. 

From  thefe  things  it  will  inevitably  follow, 
that  however  Chrift  in  fome  fenfe  may  be  faid  to 
die  for  all,  and  to  redeem  all  vifible  Chriftians,  yea, 
the  whole  world  by  his  death  •,  yet  there  muft  be 
ibmething  particular  in  the  defign  of  his  death, 
with  refpe<5t  to  fuch  as  he  intended  mould  actu- 
D  d  4  ally 


4o8     We    CONCLUSION. 

ally  be  faved  thereby.  As  appears  by  what 
been  now  {hewn,  God  has  the  actual  falvation  or 
redemption  of  a  certain  number  in  his  proper  ab~ 
folute  delign,  and  of  a  certain  number  only  •,  and 
therefore  iuch  a  clefign  only  can  be  profecuted 
in  any  thins*  God  does,  in  order  to  the  falvation 
of  men.  God  purfues  a  proper  defign  of  the 
falvation  of  the  cleft  in  giving  Chrift  to  die, 
and  profecutes  iuch  a  defign  with  refpect  to  no 
other,  mod  ftrictly  fpeaking-,  for  it  is  impoffible, 
that  God  ihould  profecute  any  other  defign  than 
only  fuch  as  he  has  :  he  certainly  does  not,  in  the 
higheit  propriety  and  ftrictnefs  of  fpeech,  purfue 
a  defign  that  he  has  riot. — And,  indeed,  Iuch  a 
particularity  and  limitation  of  redemption  will 
as  infallibly  follow,  from  the  doctrine  of  God's 
foreknowledge,  as  from  that  of  the  decree.  For 
it  is  as  impoflible,  in  flrictnefs  of  fpeech,  that  God 
Ihould  profecute  a  defign,  or  aim  at  a  thing, 
which  He  at  the  fame  time  moil  perfectly  knows 
will  not  be  accomplifhed,  as  that  he  mould  ufe 
endeavours  for  that  which  is  befide  his  decree. 

By  the  things  which  have  been  proved,  are 
obviated  fome  of  the  main  objections  againft  the 
doctrine  of  the  infallible  and  neceffary  per/eve- 
ranee  of.  faints,  and  fome  of  the  main  foundations 
of  this  doctrine  are  eftablifhed.  The  main  pre 
judices  of  Arminlam  againft  this  doctrine  feem  to 
be  thefe  •,  they  fuppoie  fuch  a  neceffary,  infallible 
perfeve ranee  to  be  repugnant  to  the  freedom  of 
the  will ;  that  it  muft  be  owing  to  man's  own 
felf- determining  power,  that  \\Q  firft  becomes  virtu 
ous  and  holy  ;  and  fo,  in  like  manner,  it  muft  be 
left  a  thing  contingent,  to  be  determined  by  the 
fame  freedom  of  will,  whether  he  will  per  lever  e 
in  virtue  and  holinefs ;  and  that  otherwife  his 
continuing  ftedfaft  in  faith  and  obedience  would 

noc 


<tbe  CONCLUSION.  409 
•not  be  his  virtue,  or  at  all  praife-.worthy  and  re- 
wardable  •,  nor  could  his  perfeverance  be  properly 
the  matter  of  divine  commands,  counfels  arid  pro- 
-mifes,  nor  his  apoftacy  be  properly  threatened, 
and  men  warned  againlt  it.  Whereas,  we  find  all 
.thefe  things  in  Scripture :  there  we  find  fledfait- 
nefs  and  perfeverance  in  true  Chriftianity,  repre- 
fented  as  the  virtue  of  the  faints,  fpoken  of  as 
praife- worthy  in  them,  and  glorious  rewards  pro- 
mifed  to  it;  and  alfo  find,  that  God  makes  it  the 
fubject  of  his, commands,  counfels  and  promifes  ; 
#nd  the  contrary,  of  threatenings  and  warnings. 
But  the  foundation  of  thefe  objections  has  been  re 
moved,  in  its  being  Ihewn  that  moral  neceflity  and 
infallible  certainty  of  events  is  not  inconfiftent 
with  thefe  things  -I  and  that,  as  to  freedom  of  will 
lying  in  the  power  of  the  will  to  determine  itfelf, 
there  neither  is  any  fuch  thing,  nor  need  any  of  it,  in 
order  to  virtue,  reward,  commands,  counfels,  &c. 

And  as  the  doctrines  of  efficacious  grace  and 
abfolute  election  do  certainly  follow  from  things, 
which  have  been  proved  in  the  preceding  ctil- 
courfe ;  fb  fome  of  the  main  foundations  of  the 
doctrine  of  perfeverance,  are  thereby  eftablimed. 
If  the  beginning  of  true  faith  and  holinefs,  and 
a  man's  becoming  a  true  faint  at  firft,  does  not 
depend  on  the  felt-determining  power  of  the  will, 
but  on  the  determining  efficacious  grace  of  God  •, 
it  may  well  be  argued,  that  it  is  aiio  with  refpect 
to  men's  being  continued  faints,  or  perfevering 
in  faith  and  hoiinefs.  The  converfion  of  a  fin- 
Tier  being  not  .owing  to  a  man's  felf-determina- 
tion,  but  to  God's  determination,  and  eternal 
election,  which  is  abfolute,  and  depending  on 
the  fovereign  will  of  God ;  and  not  on  the  free 
.will  of  man  ;  as  is  evident  from  what  has  been 
faid  :  and  it  being  very  evident  from  the  Scrip 
tures, 


4io    We    CONCLUSION. 

tures,  that  the  eternal  eledtion  which  there  is  of 
faints  to  faith  and  holinefs,  is  alfo  an  election  of 
them  to  eternal  falvation  :  hence  their  appoint 
ment  to  falvation  muft  alfo  be  abfolute,  and  not 
depending  on  their  contingent,  felf-determining 
will.  From  all  which  it  follows,  that  it  is  abfo- 
lutely  fixed  in  God's  decree,  that  all  true  faints 
fiiall  perfevere  to  adtual  eternal  falvation. 

But  I  muft  leave  all  thefe  things  to  the  con- 
fideration  of  the  fair  and  impartial  reader  ;  and 
•when  he  has  maturely  weighed  them,  I  would  pro- 
pofe  it  to  his  confideration,  whether  many  of  the 
iirft  reformers,  and  others  that  fucceeded  them, 
whom  God  in  their  day  made  the  chief  pillars  of 
bis  church,  and  greatefl  inftruments  of  their  de 
liverance  from  error  and  darknefs,  and  of  the 
fupport  of  the  caufe  of  piety  among  them,  have 
not  been  injured,  in  the  contempt  with  which 
they  have  been  treated  by  many  late  writers,  for 
their  teaching  and  maintaining  fuch  doclrines  as 
are  commonly  called  Calvinijlic.  Indeed,  fome  of 
thefe  new  writers,  at  the  fame  time  that  they 
have  reprefented  the  doftrines  of  thefe  antient 
and  eminent  divines,  as  in  the  higheft  degree  ri 
diculous,  and  contrary  to  common  fenfe,  in  an 
oftentation  of  a  very  generous  charity,  have  al 
lowed  that  they  were  honeft  well-meaning  men  : 
yea,  it  may  be  fome  of  them,  as  though  it  were 
in  great  condefccnfion  and  companion  to  them, 
have  allowed,  that  they  did  pretty  \vell  for  the 
day  which  they  lived  in,  and  coniidering  the  great 
difadvantages  they  laboured  under  :  when,  at  the 
fame  time,  their  manner  of  fpeaking  has  na 
turally  and  plainly  fuggefted  to  the  minds  of  their 
readers,  that  they  were  perfons,  who  through 
the  lownefs  of  their  genius,  and  greatnefs  of  the 
bigotry,  with  which  their  minds  were  fhackled, 

and 


tte    CONCLUSION.     411 

ind  thoughts  confined,  living  in  the  gloomy  caves 
of  fuperftition,  fondly  embraced,  and  demurely 
and  zealouily  taught  the  mod  abfurd,  filly  and 
monftrous  opinions,  worthy  of  the  greateft  con* 
tempt  of  gentlemen  poiTefTed  of  that  noble  and 
generous  freedom  of  thought,  which  happily 
prevails  in  this  age  of  light  and  enquiry.  When, 
indeed,  fuch  is  the  cafe,  that  we  might,  if  fo 
difpofed,  fpeak  as  big  words  as  they,  and  on 
far  better  grounds.  And  really  all  the  Arminians 
on  earth  might  be  challenged  without  arrogance 
or  vanity,  to  make  thefe  principles  of  theirs,  where 
in  they  mainly  differ  from  their  fathers, whom  they 
fo  much  defpife,  confident  with  common  fenie  ; 
yea,  and  perhaps  to  produce  any  doctrine  ever 
embraced  by  the  blindeit  bigot  of  the  Church  of 
Rome,  or  the  moil  ignorant  MuJJulman,  or  ex 
travagant  enthufiaft,  that  might  be  reduced  to 
more  demonstrable  inconfiflencies,  and  repug 
nancies  to  common  fenie,  and  to  themfelves ; 
though  their  inconfiftencies  indeed  may  not  lie  fo 
deep,  or  be  fo  artfully  vailed  by  a  deceitful  am 
biguity  of  words,  and  an  indeterminate  fignifi- 
cation  of  phrafes. — I  will  not  deny,  that  thefe 
gentlemen,  many  of  them,  are  men  of  great 
abilities,  and  have  been  helped  to  higher  attain 
ments  in  philofophy,  than  thofe  antient  divines, 
and  have  done  great  fervice  to  the  Church  of  God 
in  fome  refpeds:  but  I  humbly  conceive,  that  their 
differing  from  their  fathers,  with  fuch  magifterial 
affurance,  in  thefe  points  in  divinity,  muft  be  ow 
ing  to  fome  other  cauie  than  fuperior  wifdom. 

It  may  alfo  be  worthy  of  confideration,  whe 
ther  the  great  alteration,  which  has  been  made 
in  the  ftate  of  things  in  our  nation,  and  fome 
other  parts  of  the  Proteftant  world,  in  this  and 
the  paft  age,  by  the  exploding  fo  generally  Cal- 

viniftic 


4i2,     fbe    CONCLUSION. 

vimjlic  doctrines,  that  is  fo  often  fpoken  of  as 
worthy  to  be  greatly  rejoiced  in  by  the  friends  of 
truth,  learning  and  virtue,  as  an  iuftance  of  the 
great  increafe  of  light  in  the  Chriftian  Church  ;  I 
fay,  it  may  be  worthy  to  be  confidered,  whether 
this  be  indeed  a  happy  change,  owing  to  any  fuch 
caufe  as  an  increaie  of  true  knowledge  and  un- 
derftanding  in  things  of  religion  -,  or  whether 
there  is  not  reafon  to  fear,  that  it  may  be  owing 
to  fome  worfe  caufe. 

And  I  defire  it  may  be  confidered,  whether  the 
boklnefs  of  fome  writers  may  not  be  worthy  to 
&e  reflected  on,  who  have  not  ic.ru  pled  to  fay, 
that  if  thefe  and  thofe  things  are  true  (which  yet 
appear  to  be  the  demonftrable  dictates  of  reafon, 

.as  well  as  the  certain  dictates  of  the  mouth  of  the 
MQ&  High)  then  God  is  unjuft  and  cruel,  and 
guilty  of  manifeit  deceit  and  double  dealing,  and 
the  like.  Yea,  ibrne  have  gone  fo  far,  as  confi 
dently  to  alfert,  that  if  any  book  which  pretends 

-to  be  Scripture,  teaches  fuch  doctrines,  that  alone 

.is  fufiicient  warrant  for  mankind  to  reject  it,  as 

•what  cannot  be. the -Word  of  God.  Some,  who 
have  not  gone  fo-far,  have  faid,  that  if  the  Scripture 

.feems  to  teach  any  fuch  doctrines,  fo  contrary 
to :  reafon,  we  are  obliged  to  find  out  fome  other 
interpretation  of  thofe  texts,  where  fuch  doc 
trines  feern  to  be  exhibited.  Others  exprefs 
themfelves  yet  more  modeflly  :  they  exprefs  a 

-tenderncfs  and  religious  fear,  left  they  fhould  re 
ceive  and  teach  any  thing  that  mould  feem  to  ie- 
fleet  on  God's  moral  character,  or  be  a  difpa- 
ragement  to  his  methods  of  adminiftration,  in 
his  moral  government;  and  therefore  exprefs 
themfeives  as  not  daring  to  eiu brace  feme  doc 
trines,  though  they  feem  to  be  delivered  in  Scrip- 

.  ture,  according  to  the  more  obvious  and  natural 

con- 


CONCLUSION.     413. 

conftruction  of  the  words.  But  indeed  it  would 
(hew  a  truer  modefty  and  humility,  if  they  would 
more  entirely  rely  on  God's  wifdom  and  difccrn- 
ing,  who  knows  infinitely  better  than  we,,  what  is 
agreable  to  his  own  perfections,  and  never  in 
tended  to  leave  thefe  matters  to  the  dccifion  of  the 
wifdom  and  difcerning  of  men  ;  but  by  his  own 
unerring  inftruction,  to  determine  for  us  what  the 
truth  is  ;  knowing  how  little  our  judgment  is  to 
be  depended  on,  and  extremely  prone,  vain  and 
blind  men  are,  to  err  in  fuch  matters. 

The  truth  of  the  cafe  is,  that  if  the  Scripture 
plainly  taught  the  oppofite  doctrines,  to  thofe 
that  are  fo  much  Humbled  at,  viz.  the  Arminian 
doctrine  of  free  -  will,  and  others  depending 
thereon,  it  would  be  the  greateft  of  all  difficul 
ties  that  attend  the  Scriptures,  incomparably 
greater  than  its  containing  any,  even  the  mod  my- 
iterious  of  thofe  doctrines  of  the  firft  reformers, 
which  our  late  free-thinkers  have  fo  fuperciliouily 
exploded. — Indeed,  it  is  a  glorious  argument  of 
the  divinity  of  the  holy  Scriptures,  that  they  teach 
fuch  doctrines,  which  in  one  age  and  another, 
through  the  blind nefs  of  men's  minds,  and  flrong 
prejudices  of  their  hearts,  arc  rejected,  as  moil 
abfurd  and  unreafonable,  by  the  wife  and  great 
men  of  the  world  ;  which  yet,  when  they  are 
moil  carefully  and  ftrictly  examined,  appear  to  be 
exactly  agreable  to  the  moft  demon  finable,  certain, 
and  natural  dictates  of  reafon.  By  fuch  things 
it  appears,  that  the  foolifhnefs  of  God  is  wifer  than 
men,  and  God  does  as  is  faid  in  i  Cor.  i.  19,  20. 
For  it  is  written,  I  will  dejlroy  the  wifdm  of  the 
wife  ;  I  will  bring  to  nothing  the  under/landing  of  the 
prudent.  Where  is  the  wife  !  Where  is  the  fcribe  ! 
Where  is  the  difputer  of  this  world  r.  Hath  not  God 
wade  footijlj  the  wifdom  of  this  world?  And  as  it  is 

ufed 


CONCLUSION. 

ufed  to  be  in  time  paft,  fo  it  is  probable  it  will 
be  in  time  to  come,  as  it  is  there  written,  in  ver. 
27,  28,  29.  But  God  hath  ckofen  the  foolijh  things 
ef  the  world,  to  confound  the  wife:  and  God  hatb 
chofen  the  weak  things  of  the  world,  to  confound  the 
things  that  are  mighty :  and  lafe  things  of  the  world, 
and  things  which  are  defpifed,  hath  God  chofen  :  yea, 
and  things  which  are  not,  to  bring  to  nought  things 
that  are  \  that  no  fofo  Jhould  glory  in  his  prefence* 
Amen. 


<$*„& 


INDEX. 


INDEX. 


[N.  B.    The  capital  P.  fignifies  the  Part ;   Sect. 

the  Section ;  Concl.  the  Conclufion  ;  and  the 
fmall  p.  the  Page  •,  where  the  things  here  fpe- 
cified  are  to  be  found.] 


JBftrafted   or  abftrufe 

Reafoning,  whether 

juftly   objecled  againfl 

Calvinifts,  P.  4.  Seel.  13. 

p.  390. 

4&ion,  Inconfiftence 
of  the  Arminian  notion 
of  it,  P.  4.  Seel.  2.  p. 
278.  and  whence  this 
arofe,  ibid. p. 286.  whatit 
is  in  the  common  notion 
of  it,  ibid.  p.  282. — and 
how  diftinguifhed  from 
Paffion,  ibid.  p.  284. 

Attivity  of  tbe  Nature 
of  the  Soul,  whether  thro* 
this,  volition  can  arife 
without  a  caufe,  P.  2. 
Seel.  4.  p.  66. 

Apparent  Good,  the 
greateft,  in  what  fenfe 


it  determines  the  will, 
P.  i.  Se<5t.  2.  p.  9. 

ArminianSy  obliged  to 
talk  inconfiflently,  P.  2. 
Seel.  5.  p.  74.  Ibid. 
Seel.  7.  p.  98.  Se&.  9. 
p.  1 08.  where  the  main 
ftrength  of  their  pre 
tended  demonltrations 
lies,  P.  4.  Seel.  4.  p. 
307.  Their  objeclion 
from  God's  moral  cha- 
racler,  confidered  and 
retorted,  ibid.  Seel.  n. 
p.  382,3. 

Arminian  Dottrine^  its 
tendency  to  fuperfede 
all  ufe  of  means,  and 
make  endeavours  vaint 
P.  4.  Seel.  5.  p.  312. 
and,  in  effecl,  to  ex 
clude  all  virtue  and 
vice  out  of  the  world, 

P.  3- 


INDEX. 


P.  3.  Seel.  4.  p.  226. 
234.  Ibid.  Sect.  6.  p. 
257,  and  Seft.  7.  p.  266. 
P.  4.  Seel,  i.  p.  276. 
Ibid.  Sett.  12.  p.  387. 
Aibeifffl)  thefuppoicd 
tendency  of  Cahimjlk 
principles  to  it,  P.  4. 
Seel.  12.  p.  385.  I~Jow 
Armiman  principles  tend 
to  it,  Ibid.  p.  386. 
.  Attending  to  Motives^ 
of  liberty's  being  fup-. 
pofed  to  coniiil  in  an 
ability  for  it,  P.  2.  Seel. 
5).  p.  112. 

Atonement.  SeeCuRis'T 
Author  of  Sin,  whether 
it  would  follow  from 
the  doclrine  "here  main 
tained,  that  GOD  is  fo, 
P.  4.  Scd.  9.  p.  354. 

B. 

A  ME  -  worthinefs, 
wherein  it  confifts, 
according  to  common 
lenfe,  P.  4.  Seel.  4.  p. 
297. 

C. 

confident 

with  common  fenfe, 
P.  4.  Seel.  3.  p.  288. 

Caufe,  how  the  word 
Is  ufed  in  this  difcourfe, 


P.  2.  Seel.  3.  p.  58.  No 
event  without  one,  P.  2. 
Seel.  3.  p.  59. — >and  ef- 
feft^  a  neceifary  conns c^ 
tion  between  them,  P. 
2.  Seel.  8.  p.  103.  This 
refpecls  moral.,  as  well 
as  natural  caufes,  P.  2. 
Seel.  3.  p.  58. 

Chrifty  his  obedience 
necefiary,  yet  virtuous 
and  praife- worthy,  P.  3. 
Seel,  2.  p.  194.  His  a- 
tenement  excluded  in 
confequence  ot  Arml- 
nian  principles,  P.  3. 
Seel.  3.  p.  220. 

Chubb  (Mr.)  the  in- 
conMenceof  his  fcheme 
of  liberty,  &c.  P.  2.  Seel. 

10.  p.    119,— 137. 

Commands  i  confident 
with  moral  neceflity  and 
inability,  P.  3.  Seel, 
4.  p.  222.  P.  4.  Seel. 

11.  p.   380.     Incdnii- 
ilent  \v\thArmiman  prin 
ciples,  P.  3.  Seel  4.  p. 
225. 

Common  Senfe,  why 
the  principles  maintain?-' 
ed  in  this  difcourfe,  ap 
pear  to  fome  .contrary 
to  it,  P.  4.  Seel.  3.  p. 
288*.  Neceflary  virtue 
and  vice  agreable  to  it, 
P.  4.  Seel.  4.  p.  297. — 
Arminlan  tenets  oppo- 
fitc 


INDEX* 


fite  to  it,  P.  3*  Sea.  6, 
p.  249.  Ibid.  Seft.  7. 
p.  263. 

Contingence,  P.  i.Se6h 
3.  p.  28.  the  Inconfif- 
tence  of  the  Notion,  P. 
2.  Sea.  3.  p.  63.  Whe 
ther  neceflary  in  order 
to  Liberty,  P.  2.  Sea.  8. 
p.  1 02. — implied  in  Ar- 
minian  Liberty,  and  yet 
inconfiftent  with  it,  P.  2. 
Sea.  13.  p.  185.  Epi 
curus  the  greateft  main- 
tainerof  it,  P.  4.  Sea.  6. 
p.  321.  Ibid.  Sea.  12. 
p.  386. 

Corruption  of  Man's 
Nature,  CONCL.  p.  403. 

Creation  of  the  world^ 
at  fuch  a  particular  Time 
M&  Place,  P.  4.  Sea.  8. 

P-  338- 

D, 

T\ECREE  abfolute,  not 
inferring  Necefiity, 
any  more  than  certain 
Fore- knowledge  does, 
P.  2.  Sed.  12.  p.  171. 
How  it  follows  from 
things  proved  in  this  dif- 
courfe.  CONCL.  p.  406. 

Determination.  See 
Will. 

DiRates.  See  Under- 
jl an  ding. 


E. 


>T.  See  Caufe, 

Jt  J  T*£C          •  f^ 

Efficacious  (jrace. 
CONCL.  p.  404. 

Election  perjonal.  See 
Decree. 

Endeavours^  vs  hat  it  is 
for  them  to  be  in  vain* 
P.  4.  Sea.  5.  p.  309. 
Rendered  vain  by  Armi- 
nlan  Principles,  Ibid. 
p.  313.  But  not  fo  by 
Cahinifm,  Ibid.  p.  316. 
See  Sincerity. 

Entrance  of  Sin  into 
the  world,  P.  4.  Sea. 
10.  p.  376. 

Equilibrium.  See  In 
difference. 

Exhortation.  See  In- 
vitation* 


F, 


Man.     See 


Inability. 


6.  p.  321. 

Fatality,  the  Princi 
ples  of  Armenians  infer 
ring  that  which  is  moft 
fhocking,  P,  4.  Seel.  8. 

P-  352. 

Foreknowledge  of  God, 
of  Volitions  of  moral 
Agents,  proved,  P.  2. 

E  e 


INDEX. 


Sect,  ii.  p.  138. — In- 
confiftent  with  Contin- 
gence,  P.  2.  Sedt.  12. 
p.  164.  Proves  Necef 
fity,  as  much  as  a  de 
cree,  Ibid.  p.  171.  The 
feeming  difficulty  of  re 
conciling  it  with  the 
fincerity  of  his  precepts, 
counfels,  &c.  not  pe 
culiar  to  the  CahmJKe 
fcheme,  P.  4.  Sedt.  n. 
p.  380. 

G. 

D,  his  Being  how 
known,  P.  2.  Sedt. 
3.  p.  60.  P.  4.  Seel:.  12. 
p.  386.  His  moral  Ex 
cellencies  neceffary,  yet 
virtuous  and  praife- 
worthr,  P.  3.  Sect,  i. 
p.  1 88.  P.  4.  Seel.  4.  p. 
308.  The  Neceffity  of 
his  Volitions,  P.  4.  Sect. 
7.  p.  323.  Whether  the 
principles  maintained  in 
this  difcourfe  are  incon- 
fiftent  with  his  moral 
character.  P.  4.  Sedt.  1 1. 
p.  379.  How  Armini- 
anijm  deftroys  the  evi 
dence  of  his  moral  per 
fections,  Ibid.  p.  383. 

Grace  of  the  Spirit ,  ex 
cluded  by  Arminian  prin 


ciples,  P.  3.  Sedt.  3.  p 
222. 

Grace,  its  Freenefs 
confiftent  with  [the  mo 
ral  Neceffity  of  God's 
Will,  P.  4.  Sedt.  8.  p. 
350. 

H. 

its,  virtuous  and 
vicious,  inconfiftent 
with  Arminian  princi 
ples,  P.  3.  Sedt.  6.  p. 

253- 

Heatberr,  of  their  Sal 
vation,  P.  3.  Sedt.  5.  p. 
248. 

Holbes,  his  Doctrine 
of  Neceffity,  P.  4.  Sect. 
6.  p.  322. 


L 


JMpoffiblllty y    the  fame 
as  negative  Neceffity, 
P,  i.  Sedt.  3.  p.  27. 

Inability^  how  the 
word  is  ufed  in  com 
mon  fpeech,  and  how 
by  Metaphficians  and 
Arminians,  P.  i.  Sedt. 
3.  p.  20,  27.  P.  4.  Sedt. 
3.  p.  291.  Natural  and 
moral,  P.  i.  Sect.  4.  p. 
28.  Moraly  the  feveral 
kinds  of  it,  P.  i.  Sedt. 
4- 


INDEX. 


4-  P-  35-  P.  3-  Se6i:-  4- 
p,  231.  —  of  fallen  man 
to  perform  perfeft  obe 
dience,  P.  3.  Sea.  3.  p. 
219.  What  does,  and 
what  does  not  excufe 
men,  P.  3.  Sea.  3.  p. 
216.  Ibid.  Sea.  4.  p. 
234.  P.  4.  Sea.  3.  p. 
289. 

Inclinations-,  fee  flj- 


Indifference,  whether 
Liberty  confifts  in  it, 
P.  2.  Seel.  7.  p.  88.— 
Not  neceffary  to  virtue, 
but  inconfiftent  with  it, 
P.  3.  8ed.  6.  p.  252. 

Indifferent  y*£/#ff, 
which  appear  fo,  never 
the  objects  of  volition, 
P.  i.  Sed.  2.  p.  9.  P.  2. 
Sea.  6.  p.  79.  Whether 
the  Will  can  determine 
itfelf  in  chufing  among 
fuch  things,  P.  2.  Sea. 
6.  p.  80. 

Invitations  >  confident 
with  moral  Necefiity 
and  Inability,  P.  3.  Sea. 
4.  p.  236.  P.  4.  Seel:. 
ii.  p.  379.  But  not 
confident  with  Ar  mini  an 
principles.  P.  2.  Sea.  9. 
p.  113.  P.  3.  Sea.  7. 
p.  264.  P.  4.  Sea.  ii. 

p.  382. 


L. 

the  end 
whereof  is  to  bind 
to  one  fide,  rendered 
ufelefsby  Arminian  prin 
ciples,  P.  3.  Sea.  4.  p. 
226. 

Liberty )  the  Nature  of 
it,  P.  i.  Sea.  5.  p.  38. 
The  Arminian  Notion  of 
it,  Ibid.  p.  40.  This 
inconfiflent  with  other 
Arminian  Notions,  P.  2. 
Sea.  9.  p.  107,  &c. 

Licentioufnefs,  whether 
the  Calvinijlic  doarine 
tends  to  it,  P.  4.  Sea. 
12.  p.  386. — See  En 
deavours. 

M. 

7l/TAchines,  whether 
Cahinifm  makes 
men  fuch,  P.  4.  Sea.  5. 
p.  317. 

Means,  fee  Endeavours. 

Metaphyfical  Reafon- 
ing  -,  fee  Abft  rafted. — 
To  be  juftly  objcaed 
againft  the  Arminian 
fcheme,  P.  4.  Sea.  13. 

P-  397- 

Mural  Agency,  its  N  a- 

tnre,  P.  i.  Sea.  5.  p.  41. 
E  e  2  Mo- 


I    N    D 

Motives,  what  they 
are,  P.  i.  Se6b.  2.  p.  7,  8. 
The  ftrongeft  determin 
ing  the  Will,  Ibid.  p. 
8.  P.  2.  Sedt.  10.  p. 
124.  Arminian  Princi 
ples  inconiiilent  with 
their  influence  and  ufe 
in  moral  adHons.  P.  3. 
Sect.  7.  p.  260.  P.  4. 
Sea.  ii.  p.  385. 

N. 

KTAtural  Notions;   fee 

Common  Senfe. 
Neceffityj  how  the 
term  is  ufed  in  com 
mon  fpeech,  and  how 
by  philofophers,  P.  i. 
Sea.  3.  p.  1 8.  P.  4. 
Sea.  3,  p.  289.— Phi- 
lofophical  of  various 
kinds.  Ibid.  p.  294. 
natural  and  moral,  P. 
i.  Sect.  4.  p.  28.  P.  4. 
Sea.  4.  p.  305.— No 
Liberty  without  moral 
Neceflity,  P.  2.  Sect.  3. 
p,  102.  Necefiity  and 
Contingence,  both  in- 
confident  with  Arminian 
Liberty  P.  2.  Sea.  13. 
p.  183.  Neceflity  of 
God's  Volition.  P.  3, 
Sect.  i.  p.  1 88.  P.  4. 
Sect.  7,  p.  323.  This 


E    X, 

confident  with  the  free- 
nefs  of  his  grace,  Ibid. 
Sea.  8.  p.  350.— Ne 
ceflity  of  Chrift's  Obe 
dience,  &c.  P.  3.  Sea. 
2.  p.  194 — Of  the  fin 
of  iuch  as  are  given  up 
to  fin,  P.  3.  Sea.  3.  p. 
213. — of  fallen  man,  in 
general,  P.  3.  Sea.  3. 
p.  219.  What  Necef- 
fity  wholly  excufes  men, 
P.  3.  Sea.  4.  p.  235. 
P.  4.  Sea.  3.  p.  289. 
and  Sea.  4.  p.  301. 

O. 

QBedience;    fee  Cbrijl, 
Commands,  Necejfity. 

P. 

Articles  perfe&ly  alike, 
of  the  Creator's  pla 
cing  fuch  differently,  P. 
4.  Sea.  8.  p.  340. 

Perfeverance  of  Saints^ 
CONCLUS.  p.  408. 

Promijes,  whether  any 
are  made  to  the  endea 
vours  of  unregenerate 
Tinners,  P.  3.  Sea.  5. 
p.  247. 

Providence,  univerfal 
and  decifive,  CONCLUS. 


p.  402, 


R 


INDEX. 


R. 


£>  Edemption  particular, 

CONCLUS.  p.  407. 

Reformers  the  firft, 
how  treated  by  many 
late  writers,  CONCLUS. 
p.  410. 

S. 

C /lints  in  Heaven,  their 
'  Liberty,  P.  4.  Sett. 

4.  p.  308. 

Scripture,  or  the  Ar- 
winians  arguments  from 
thence,  P.  4,  Seel.  n. 
p.  384. 

Self-determining  Power 
of  the  Will,  its  incon- 
fiftence,  P.  2.  Seel.  i. 
p.  44.  Eva/ions  of  the 
arguments  againfl  it 
confidered,  P.  2.  Seel.  2. 
p.  50.  Ihewn  to  be  im 
pertinent,  Ibid.  Seel.  5. 
p.  72. 

Sin  ;  fee  Author,  En 
trance. 

Sincerity  ofDefires  and 
Endeavours,  what  is  no 
juft  excufe,  P.  3.  Seel. 

5.  p.   237,     The  diffe 
rent   forts   of   fincerity, 
Ibid.  p.  244. 

Sloth,  not  encouraged 
by  Cahinijm,  P.  4.  Se<5h 
5-  P-  3'5- 


Stoic  Philofophers,  great 
Theiils,  P.  4.  Sed  12. 
p.  385.  See  Fate. 

Sufpending  Fclition,  of 
the  liberty  of  the  Will 
fuppofed  to  confift  in 
an  ability  for  it,  P.  2. 
Seel,  7.  p.  98  P.  3. 
Seel.  4,  p.  229.  Ibid. 
Seel.  7.  p.  261. 

T. 

CT^Endency  of  the  Prin 
ciples  here  main 
tained,  to  Atheifm  and 
licentioufnefs,  the  ob- 
jeclion  confidered  and 
retorted,  P.  4.  Seel.  12. 

P-  385. 

V. 

T^lrtue  and  Vice,  the 
Being  of  neither  of 
them  confident  with  Ar- 
minian  principles ;  See 
Arminian  Doffrjne.  Their 
EiTence  not  lying  in 
their  Caufe,  but  their 
Nature,  P.  4.  Seel.  i. 
p.  269. 

Under/landing,  how  it 
determines  the  Will,  P. 
i.  Seel.  2.  p.  17.  P.  2. 
Seel.  9.  p.  107.  Dic 
tates  of  the  Under- 
Handing  and  Will,  as 

'E'c'3  fup- 


INDEX. 


fuppofed  by  fome,  the 
fame,  P.  2.    Sect.  9.  p. 

ii3- 

UneaftnefS)  as  fuppo 
fed  to  determine  the 
Will,  P.  i.  Seft.  2.  p. 
10. 

Volition,  not  without 
a  caufe,  P.  2.  Sect.  3. 
p.  65.  P.  2.  Se6t.  4.  p. 
70. 

W. 

T/T/ILL    its    Nature, 
rr    P.  i.  Sea  i.  p.  i, 


&c.  Its  determination? 
P.  i.  Sed,  2.  p.  6,  6fc. 
The  very  being  of  fuch 
a  faculty  inconfiftent 
with  Annlnian  Princi 
ples,  P.  3.  Seel.  7.  p. 
267.  — '.Of  God,  fecret 
and  revealed^  P.  4.  Seel. 
9.  p.  368.  Ar  mini  am 
themfelves  obliged  U) 
allow  fuch  a  diftindlion, 
Ibid.  p.  371. 

Willingnefs  to  Duty, 
what  is  no  excufe  for 
the  neglecl  of  it,  Sec 
Sincerity* 


REMARKS 


REMARKS 

ON      THE 

ESSAYS  on  the  PRINCIPLES  of  MORA 
LITY  and  NATURAL  RELIGION, 

In  a  LETTER  to  a  Minifter  of  the  CHURCH  of 
SCOTLAND  : 

By    the    Reverend     Mr.    JONATHAN    ED- 
WARDS,  Prefident  of  the  College  of  NEW 
JERSEY,  and  Author  of  the  late  INQUIRY  into 
the  MODERN  NOTIONS  of  the   FREEDOM  of 
WILL. 

Rev.  SIR, 

THE  intimations  you  have  given  me  of  the 
ufe  which  has,  by  fome,  been  made  of 
what  I  have  written  on  the  Freedom  o/  the  Will* 
&c.  to  vindicate  what  is  faid  on  the  fubjed  of  li 
berty  and  neceffity,  by  the  Author  of  the  E/ays  on 
the  Principles  of  Morality  and  Natural  Religion,  has 
occafioned  my  reading  this  Author's  Effay  on  that 
fubjed,  with  particular  care  and  attention.  And 
I  think  it  muft  be  evident  to  every  one,  that  has  read 
both  his  Effay  and  my  Inquiry,  that  our  fchemes  are 
exceeding  reverfe  from  each  other.  The  wide  dif 
ference  appears  particularly  in  thefollowing  things. 
This  Author  fuppofes,  that  fuch  a  neceJTity  takes 
place  with  refpeft  to  all  men's  aftions,  as  is  incon- 
fiftent  with  liberty  *,  and  plainly  denies  that  men 
have  any  liberty  in  ading.  Thus  in  p.  168.  after 
he  had  been  fpeakingof  the  neceffity  of  our  deter- 

*  P.  160,  161,  164,  165,  and  many  other  places. 
Ee  4  m 


minations, 


V  (      2      ) 

minations.,  as  conne&ed  with  motives,  he  concludes 
-with  faying,  "  In  fhort,  if  motives  are  not  under 
our  power  or  direction,  which  is  confeffedly  the 

faft,  we  can  at  bottom  have NO  LIBERTY." 

Whereas,  I  have  abundantly  exprefied  it  as  my 
mind,  that  man,  in  his  moral  adions,  has  true  li 
berty  ;  and  that  the  moral  necefiity,  which  univer- 
fally  takes  place,  is  not  in  the  lead  inconfiilent 
with  any  thing  that  is  properly  called  liberty,  and 
with  the  utmoft  liberty  that  can  be  defired,  or 
that  can  pofllbly  exifl  or  be  conceived  of*. 

I  find  that  fome  are  apt  to  think,  that  in  that 
kind  of  moral  neceflity  of  men's  volitions,  which 
I  fuppofe  to  be  univerfal,  at  leaft  fome  degree  of 
liberty  is  denied  ;  that  though  it  be  true  I  allow 
a  fort  of  liberty,  yet  thofe  who  maintain  a  felf-de- 
termining  power  in  the  will,  and  a  liberty  of  con- 
tingence  and  indifference,  hold  an  higher  fort  of 
freedom  than  I  do :  but  I  think  this  is  certainly 
a  great  miftake. 

Liberty,  as  I  have  explained  it,  in  p.  38.  and 
other  places,  is  the  power,  opportunity  ^  or  advantage 
that  any  one  has  to  do  as  he  pleafes^  or  conducing,  IN 
ANY  RESPECT,  according  to  hu  pleafure  ;  without 
confidering  how  his  pleafure  comes  to  be  as  it  is. 
It  is  demonilrable,  and,  I  think,  has  been  demon- 
ftrated,  that  no  neceflity  of  men's  volitions  that  I 
maintain,  is  inconfiftent  with  this  liberty :  and  1 
think  it  is  impoflible  for  any  one  to  rife  higher  in 
his  conceptions  of  liberty  than  this  :  If  any  ima 
gine  they  defire  higher,  and  that  they  conceive  of 
a  higher  and  greater  liberty  than  this,  they  are  de 
ceived,  and  delude  themfclves  with  confufed  am 
biguous  words,  in  {lead  of  ideas.  If  any  one  fhould 
here  fay,  "  Yes,  I  conceive  of  a  freedom  above  and 
beyond  the  liberty  a  man  has  of  conducting  in 

*  Inquiry,?.  38  —  43,  186,  187,278—288,300,  307,  326, 

—335- 

any 


(     3     ) 

any  refpect  as  he  pleafes,  viz.  a  liberty  of  chufing 
as  he  pleafes."  Such  an  one,  if  he  reflected,  would 
either  blufh  or  laugh  at  his  own  inftance.  For, 
is  not  chufing  as  he  pleafes,  conducing,  IN  SOME 
RESPECT,  according  to  his  pleafure,  and  {till  with 
out  determining  how  he  came  by  that  pleafure  ? 
If  he  fays,  "  Yes,  I  came  by  that  pleafure  by  my 
own  choice."  If  he  be  a  man  of  common  fenfe, 
by  this  time  he  will  fee  his  own  abfurdity  :  for  he 
muft  needs  fee  that  his  notion  or  conception,  even 
of  this  liberty,  does  not  contain  any  judgment  or 
conception  how  he  comes  by  that  choice,  which 
firft  determines  his  pleafure,  or  which  'originally 
fixed  his  own  will  refpecting  the  affair.  Or  if 
any  lhall  fay,  "  That  a  man  exercifes  liberty  in 
this,  even  in  determining  his  own  choice,  but  not 
as  he  pleafes,  or  not  in  confequence  of  any  choice, 
preference,  or  inclination  of  his  own,  but  by  a 
determination  arifing  contingently  out  of  a  flate  of 
abfolute  indifference  ;"  this  is  not  rifing  higher  in 
his  conception  of  liberty :  as  fnch  a  determina 
tion  of  the  will  would  not  be  a  voluntary  deter 
mination  of  it.  Surely  he  that  places  liberty  in  a 
power  of  doing  fomething  not  according  to  his 
own  choice,  or  from  his  choice,  has  not  a  higher 
notion  of  it,  than  he  that  places  it  in  doing  as  he 
pleafes,  or  acting  from  his  own  election.  If  there 
were  a  power  in  the  mind  to  determine  itfelf,  but 
not  by  its  choice  or  according  to  its  pleafure,  what 
advantage  would  it  give  ?  and  what  liberty, 
worth  contending  for,  would  be  exercifed  in  it  ? 
Therefore  no  Arminian^  Pelagian,  or  Epicurean^ 
can  rife  higher  in  his  conceptions  of  liberty,  than 
the  notion  of  it  which  I  have  explained:  wh!ch 
notion  is  apparently,  perfectly  conliftent  with  the 
whole  of  that  necefiky  of  men's  actions,  which  I 
fuppofe  takes  place.  And  I  fcruple  not  to  fay,  it  is 
beyond  ail  th-rlr  wits  to  invent  a  higher  notion,  or 

form 


(    4    ) 

form  a  higher  imagination  of  liberty  ;  let  them 
talk  offovereignty  of  the  will,  f elf -determining  power + 
felf-motion,  felf-direttion,  arbitrary  decifiony  liberty 
ad  utrumvis,  power  of  chufing  differently  in  given 
cafes,  &c.  &c.  as  long  as  they  will.  It  is  apparent 
that  thefe  men,  in  their  ftrenuous  affirmation,, 
and  difpute  about  thefe  things,  aim  at  they  know 
not  what,  fighting  for  fomething  they  have  no 
conception  of,  fubftituting  a  number  of  confufed 
unmeaning  words,  inftead  of  things,  and  inftead 
of  thoughts.  They  may  be  challenged  clearly  to 
explain  what  they  would  have :  they  never  can 
anfwer  the  challenge. 

The  Author  of  the  Effhys,  through  his.  whole 
ElTay  on  Liberty  and  Neceflity,  goes  on  that  fup- 
pofition,  that,  in  order  to  the  being  of  real  liberty, 
a  man  muft  have  a  freedom  that  is  oppoled  to 
moral  necefiity  :  and  yet  he  fuppofes,  p.  1 75,  that 
juch  a  liberty  mufl  fignify  a  power  in  the  mind  of 
afting  without  and  againft  motives,  a  power  of  afting 
without  any  view,  purfofe  or  defign^  and  even  of 
afting  in  contradiction  to  our  own  defires  and  aver- 
fions,  and  to  all  our  principles  of  aftion  ;  and  is  an 
abfurdity  altogether  inconjiftent  with  a  rational  na 
ture.  Now,  who  ever  imagined  fuch  a  liberty  as 
this,  a  higher  fort  or  degree  of  freedom,  than  a 
liberty  of  following  one's  own  views  and  purpo- 
fes,  and  acting  agreable  to  his  own  inclinations  and 
paffions  ?  Who  will  ever  reafonably  fuppofe  that 
liberty,  which  is  an  abfurdity  altogether  incon- 
fiflent  with  a  rational  nature,  to  be  a  kind  of  li 
berty  above  that  which  is  confident  with  the  na 
ture  of  a  rational,  intelligent,  deiigning  agent. 

The  Author  of  the  Effays  feems  to  fuppofe  fuch 
a  neceflity  to  take  place,  as  is  inconfiftent  with  fome 
fuppofable  POWER  OF  ARBITRARY  CHOICE*; 
or  that  there  is  fome  liberty  conceivable,  whereby 

*  P.  169. 

men's 


(     5     ) 

men's  own  actions  might  be  more  PROPERLY  iw 
THEIR  POWER  *,  and  by  which  events  might  be 
more    DEPENDENT  ON  OURSELVES  -f- :    contrary 
to  what  1   iuppofe  to  be  evident  in  my  Inquiry  J. 
What  way  can  be  imagined,  of  our  actions  being 
more  in  cur  poiver,  from  our f elves,  or  dependent  on 
ourfelves,  than  their  being  from  our  power  to  ful 
fil  our  own  choice,  to  aft  from  our  own  inclina 
tion,  purfue  our  own  views,  and  execute  our  own 
deiigns  ?  Certainly,  to  be  able  to  ad  thus,   is  as 
properly  having  our  actions  in  our  power,  and  de 
pendent  on  ourfelves,  as  a  being  liable  to  be  the 
fubjects  of  ads  and  events,   contingently  and  for- 
tuitouily,  without  defire,  view,  purpofe  or  defigny  or 
any  principle  of  affiion  within  ourfel ves  ;  as  we  muft 
be,  according  to  this  Author's  own  declared  fenfe, 
if  our  actions  are  performed  with  that  liberty  that 
is  oppofed  to  moral  necefiity. 

This  Author  feems  every  where  to  fuppofe,  that 
neceffity,  mofl  properly  fo  called,  attends  all  men's 
actions ,  and  that  the  terms  necejjary,  unavoidable, 
impcffible,  Sec.  are  equally  applicable  to  the  cafe  of 
moral  and  natural  neceffity.     In  p.  173,   he  fays, 
The    idea   of    neceffary    and   unavoidable    equally 
agrees,  loth  to  moral  and  phyfical  neceffity.     And  in 
p.  184,  All  things  that  fall  out  in  the  natural  and  mo 
ral  world  are  alike  neceffary.     P.  174*  Th**  inclina 
tion  and  choice  is  unavoidably  caufed  or  occafiomd  by 
the  prevailing  motive.    In  this  lies  the  neceffity  of  our 
actions,  that,  infuch  circumftances,  it  was  impoiTible 
we  could  aft  otherwise.     He  often  expreiTes  him- 
felf  in  like  manner  elfewhere,  fpeaking  in  ftrong 
terms  of  men's   actions  as  unavoidable,  what  they 
cannot  forbear,    having  no  power  over  their  own 
actions,  the  order  of  them  being  unalterably  fixed, 
and  infeparably  linked  together,  &c.  § 

*  P.  191,  19;,  197,  206.        f  P.  183.     t  P-  595»  396- 
§  P.  180,.  188,  193*  i94>  J'9$'  T97»  !98>  r99>  205»  zo6- 

On 


(     6     ) 

On  the  contrary,  I  have  largely  declared,  that 
the  connection  between  antecedent  things  and  con- 
fequent  ones,  which  takes  place  with  regard  to  the 
acts  of  men's  wills,  which  is  called  moral  neceffity, 
is  called  by  the  name  of  Necejfity  improperly  -,  and 
that  all  fuch  terms  as  muft,  cannot,  impojfible,  unable, 
irrejijlibk,  unavoidable,  invincible,  &c.  when  appli 
ed  here,  are  not  applied  in  their  proper  fignifica- 
tion,  and  are  either  ufed  nonfenfically,  and  with 
perfect  infignificance,  or  in  a  fenfe  quite  diverfe 
From  their  original  and  proper  meaning,  and  their 
ufe  in  common  fpeech  *  :  and,  that  fuch  a  necef- 
fity  as  attends  the  acts  of  men's  wills,  is  more  pro 
perly  called  certainty,  than  necejfity -,  it  being  no 
other  than  the  certain  connection  between  the 
fubject  and  predicate  of  the  propofition  which 
affirms  their  exiftence  -f-. 

Agreable  to  what  is  obferved  in  my  Inquiry  J, 
I  think  it  is  evidently  owing  to  a  ftrong  prejudice 
in  perfons  minds,  arifing  from  an  infenfible  habi 
tual  perverfion  and  milapplication  of  fuch-like 
terms,  as  ncceffary,  impoj/ible,  unable,  unavoidable,  in 
vincible,  &c.  that  they  are  ready  to  think,  that  to 
fuppofe  a  certain  connection  of  men's  volitions, 
without  any  foregoing  m^ives  or  inclinations,  or 
any  preceding  moral  influence  whatfcever,  is  truly 
and  properly  to  fuppofe  fuch  a  ftrong  irrefragable 
chain  of  caufes  and  effects.,  as  {lands  in  the  way  of, 
and  makes  utterly  vain,  oppofite  defires  and  en 
deavours,  like  immovable  and  impenetrable  moun 
tains  of  brafs  ;  and  impedes  our  liberty  like  walls 
of  adamant,  gates  of  brafs,  and  bars  of  iron  : 
whereas,  all  fuch  reprefentations  fugged  ideas  as 
far  from  the  truth,  as  the  Eaft  is  from  the  Weft. 

*   Inquiry,  P.  iS— 7-8,  32,  33,  34,  36,  37,  232,  289—293, 

296,  304 308,  397,  398.  f  Inquiry,  P.  22 — 24. 

t  P,  289—293, 

Nothing 


(    7    > 

Nothing  that  I  maintain,  fuppofes  that  men  are  at 
all  hindered  by  any  fatal  neceflity,  from  doing,  and 
even  willing  and  chufing  as  they  pleafe,  with  full 
freedom  ;  yea  with  the  higheft  degree  of  liberty 
that  ever  was  thought  of,  or  that  ever  could  pol- 
fibly  enter  into  the  heart  of  any  man  to  conceive* 
I  know  it  is  in  vain  to  endeavour  to  make  fomc 
perfons  believe  this,  or  at  leaft  fully  and  fleadily 
to  believe  it :  for  if  it  be  demonftrated  to  them, 
flill  the  old  prejudice  remains,  which  "has  been 
long  fixed  by  the  ufe  of  the  terms  neceffary,  muft+ 
cannot^  impoffibk^  &c.  the  afTociation  with  thefe 
terms  of  certain  ideas,  inconfiftent  with  liberty,  is 
not  broken;  and  the  judgment  is  powerfully 
warped  by  it ;  as  a  thing  that  has  been  long  bent 
and  grown  fliff,  if  it  be  flraitened,  will  return  to 
its  former  curvity  again  and  again. 

The  Author  of  the  EJJays  moft  manifeftly  fup 
pofes,  that  if  men  had  the  truth  concerning  the  real 
neceflity  of  all  their  actions  clearly  in  view,  they 
would  not  appear  to  themfelves,  or  one  another, 
as  at  all  praife- worthy  or  culpable,  or  under  any 
moral  obligation,  or  accountable  for  their  actions*: 
which  fuppofes,  that  men  are  not  to  be  blamed  or 
praifed  for  any  of  their  actions,  and  are  not  under 
any  obligations,  nor  are  truly  accountable  for  any 
thing  they  do,  by  reafon  of  this  neceflity  •,  which 
is  very  contrary  to  what  I  have  endeavoured  to 
prove,  throughout  the  third  part  of  my  Inquiry.  I 
humbly  conceive  it  is  there  fhewn,  that  this  is  fo 
far  from  the  truth,  that  the  moral  neceflity  of  men's 
actions,  which  truly  take  place,  is  requifite  to  the 
being  of  virtue  and  vice,  or  any  thing  praife- wor 
thy  or  culpable  :  that  the  liberty  of  indifference 
and  contingence,  which  is  advanced  in  oppolition 
to  that  neceflity,  is  inconfiftent  with  the  being  of 

*  P.  207.  209,  and  ether  places. 

thefe  s 


(     8     ) 

thefe ;  as  it  would  fuppoie  that  men  are  not  deter 
mined  in  what  they  do,  by  any  virtuous  or  vicious 
principles,  nor  act  from  any  motives,  Intentions  of 
aims  whatfoever  •,  or  have  any  end,  either  good  or 
bad,  in  a<5ting.  And  is  it  not  remarkable,  that  this 
Author  fhould  fnppofe,  that,  in  order  to  men's  ac 
tions  truly  having  any  defert,  they  muft  be  per 
formed  without  any  vie>zu,  purpofe^  defign,  or  defire, 
or  any  principle  of  affion,  or  any  thing  agreable  to 
a  rational  nature  ?  As  it  will  appear  that  he  does, 
if  we  compare,  p.  206,  207,  with  p.  175. 

The  Author  of  the  Effays  fuppofes,  that  God  has 
deeply  implanted  in  man's  nature,  a  ftrong  and  in 
vincible  apprehenfion,  or  feeling,  as  he  calls  it,  of 
a  liberty,  and  contingence  of  his  own  actions,  op- 
pofite  to  that  necerTity  which  truly  attends  them  ; 
and  which  in  truth  does  not  agree  with  real  fact*, 
is  not  agreable  to  ftrict  philofophic  truth  -f,  is 
contradictory  to  the  truth  of  things  '{.,  and  which 
truth  contradicts  ||,  not  tallying  with  the  real  plan  § : 
and  that  therefore  fuch  feelings  are  deceitful  **, 
are  in  reality  of  the  delufive  kind  ff .  He  fpeaks  of 
them  as  a  wife  delufion  Jt,as  nice  artificial  feelings, 
meerly  that  confcience  may  have  a  commanding 
power  |j|| :  meaning  plainly,  that  thefe  feelings  are 
a  cunning  artifice  of  the  Author  of  Nature,  to 
make  men  believe  they  are  free,  when  they  are 
not§§  He  fuppofes  that,  by  thefe  reelings,  the  mo 
ral  world  has  a  difguifed  appearance  JJJ.     And 
other  things  of  this  kind  he  fays.     He  fuppofes 
that  all  fclf-approbation,  and  all  remorfe  of  con 
fcience,    all   commendation   or  condemnation  of 
ourfelves  or  others,  all  fenfe  of  defert,  and  all  that 
is  connected  with   th:s  way  of  thinking,  all  the 
ideas,  which  at  prefcnt  are  fuggefted  by  the  words 

*  P.  200.    f  P.  152.    t  P.  183.     ||P.  1 86.    §P.  205. 
**  P.  203, 204,  211.    ft  P.  183.    UP.  209.    Jin  P.  211. 

§§p,  i53.        ntP.  214. 


(    9    ) 

ought,  fiould,  arife  from  this  delufion,  and  would 
entirely  vanifh  without  it  *. 

All  which  is  very  contrary  to  what  I  have  abun 
dantly  infifted  on  and  endeavoured  to  demonftrate 
in  my  Inquiry ;  where  I  have  largely  fhevvn,  that  it 
is  agreable  to  the  natural  fenfe  of  mankind,  that 
the  moral  necefiity  or  certainty  that  attends  men's 
actions,  is  confident  with  praife  and  blame,  re 
ward  and  punifhment  -f- ;  and  that  it  is  agreable 
to  our  natural  notions,  that  moral  evil,  with  its  de- 
fert  of  diflike  and  abhorrence,  and  all  its  other  ill- 
defervings,  confifrs  in  a  certain  deformity  in  the 
nature  of  the  difpofitions  and  acts  of  the  heart,  and 
not  in  the  evil  of  fomething  elfe,  diverfe  from 
thefe,  fuppofed  to  be  their  caufe  or  occafion  %. 

I  might  well  afk  here,  whether  any  one  is  to  be 
found  in  the  world  of  mankind,  who  is  confcious 
to  a  fenfe  or  feeling,  naturally  and  deeply  rooted 
in  his  mind,  that,  in  order  to  a  man's  performing 
any  action  that  is  praife  or  blame- worthy,  he  muft 
exercile  a  liberty  that  implies  and  {ignifies  a  power 
of  acting  without  any  motive,  view,  delign,  delire, 
or  principle  of  action  ?  For  fuch  a  liberty,  this 
Author  luppofes,  that  mud  be  which  is  oppofed 
to  moral  neceflity,  as  I  have  already  obferved  once 
and  again.  Suppoiing  a  man  iliould  actually  do 
good,  independent  of  defire,  aim,  inducement, 
principle  or  end,  is  it  a  dictate  of  invincible  natu 
ral  fenfe,  that  his  act  is  more  meritorious  or  praife- 
worthy,  than  if  he  had  performed  it  for  fame  good 
end^  and  had  been  governed  in  it  by  good  prtnci* 
pits  and  motives  ?  and  fo  I  might  afk,  on  the  con 
trary,  with  refpect  to  evil  actions  ||. 

*  P.  1 60,  194,  199,  205,  206,  207,  209.  f  Inquiry  Part 
IV.  Se6l.  4.  throughout.  I  Idem,  Part  IV.  Sc&.  r.  through 
out,  and  P.  391; — 397.  ||  See  this  Matter  illuflrated  in  my 
Inquiry,  Part  IV.  Se£l.  4.  especially,  P.  302—304. 

The 


The  Author  of  the .Effays  fuppo&s  that  the  liber 
ty  without  neceflity,  which  we  have  a  natural  feel 
ing  of,  implies  contingency :  and,  fpeaking  of  this 
contingence,  he  fometimes  calls  it  by  the  name  of 
Chance.  And  it  is  evident,  that  his  notion  of  it,  or 
rather  what  he  fays  about  it,  implies  things  hap. 
pening  loofely,  fortuitoufly^  by  accident ,  and  without  a 
caufe  '*.  Now  I  conceive  the  flighted  reflection  may 
be  fufficient  to  fatisfy  any  one,  that  fuch  a  con 
tingence  of  mens  actions,  according  to  our  natural 
fenfe,  is  fo  far  from  being  eflential  to  the  morality 
or  merit  of  thofe  actions,  that  it  would  deilroy  it  -, 
and  that,  on  the  contrary,  the  dependence  of  our 
actions  on  fuch  caufes,  as  inward  inclinations,  in 
citements  and  ends,  is  eflential  to  the  being  of  it. 
Natural  fenfe  teaches  men,  when  they  fee  any  thing 
done  by  others  of  a  good  or  evil  tendency,  to  in 
quire  what  their  intention  was  ;  what  principles 
and  views  they  were  moved  by,  in  order  to  judge 
how  far  they  are  to  be  juftified  or  condemned ; 
and  not  to  determine,  that,  in  order  to  their  being 
approved  or  blamed  at  all>  the  action  muft  be 
performed  altogether  fortuitoufly,  proceeding 
from  nothing,  ariling  from  no  caufe.  Concern 
ing  this  matter,  I  have  fully  exprefied  my  mind 
in  the  Inquiry^. 

If  the  liberty,  which  we  have  a  natural  fenfe  of 
as  neceflary  to  defert,  confifts  in  the  mind's  felf- 
determination,  without  being  determined  by  previ 
ous  inclination  or  motive,  then  indifference  is  eflen 
tial  to  it,  yea  abfolute  indifference;  as  is  obferved 
in  my  Inquiry^.  But  men  naturally  have  no  notion 
of  any  fuch  liberty  as  this,  as  effential  to  the  mo 
rality  or  demerit  of  their  actions;  but,  on  the  con 
trary,  fuch  a  liberty,  if  it  were  pofllble,  would  be 

*  P.  156,  157,  158,  1^9,  177,  178,  181,  183,  184,  185. 
f  P.  258 — 261,  267,  302,  303,  and  other  Places. 
JP.  89—91. 

inconfiflent 


C    »    ) 

inconfiftent  with  our  natural  notions  of  defert,  $s 
is  largely  fhown  in  the  Inquiry  *.  If  it  be  agreable 
to  natural  fenfe,  that  men  muft  be  indifferent  in 
determining  their  own  actions;  then,  according  to 
the  fame,  the  more  they  are  determined  by  inclina 
tion,  either  good  or  bad,  the  lefs  they  have  of  de 
fert  :  the  more  good  actions  are  performed  from 
good  difpofition,  the  lefs  praife-worthy ;  and  the 
more  evil  deeds  are  from  evil  difpofitions,  the  lefs 
culpable ;  and,  in  general,  the  more  men's  actions 
are  from  their  hearts,  the  lefs  they  are  to  be  com 
mended  or  condemned :  which  all  muft  know  is 
very  contrary  to  natural  fenfe. 

Moral  necefiity  is  owing  to  the  power  and  go 
vernment  of  the  inclination  of  the  heart,  either 
habitual  or  occafional,  excited  by  motive :  but, 
according  to  natural  and  common  fenfe,  the  more 
a  man  does  any  thing  with  full  inclination  of 
heart,  the  more  is  it  to  be  charged  to  his  account 
for  his  condemnation,  if  it  be  an  ill  action,  and 
the  more  to  be  afcribed  to  him  for  his  praife,  if  it 
be  good. 

If  the  mind  were  determined  to  evil  actions  by 
contingence,  from  a  ftate  of  indifference,  then 
either  there  would  be  no  fault  in  them,  or  elfe 
the  fault  would  be  in  being  fo  perfectly  indif 
ferent,  that  the  mind  was  equally  liable  to  a  bad 
or  good  determination.  And,  if  this  indifference 
be  liberty,  then  the  very  effence  of  the  blame  or 
fault  would  lie  in  the  liberty  itfelf,  or  the  wick- 
ednefs  would,  primarily  and  fummarily,  lie  in 
being  a  free  agent.  If  there  were  no  fault  in 
being  indifferent,  then  there  would  be  no  fault 
in  the  determination's  being  agreable  to  fuch  a 
ftate  of  indifference :  that  is,  there  could  no 

*  Efpecially  in  Part  III.  Sea.  6,  and  7. 

F  f  fault 


(       12       ) 

iault  be  reafonably  found  with  this,  viz.  that 
oppofite  determinations  actually  happen  to  take 
place  indifferently,  fometimes  good  and  fometimes 
bad,  as  contingence  governs  and  decides.  And 
if  it  be  a  fault  to  be  indifferent  to  good  and 
evil,  then  fuch  indifference  is  no  indifference 
to  good  and  evil,  but  is  a  determination  to 
evil,  or  to  a  fault ;  and  fuch  an  indifferent  difpo- 
fition  would  be  an  evil,  faulty  difpofition,  ten 
dency  or  determination  of  mind.  So  inconfiftent 
are  thefe  notions  of  liberty,  as  effential  to  praife 
or  blame. 

The  Author  of  the  Eflays  fuppofes  men's  na 
tural  delufive  fenfe  of  a  liberty  of  contingence, 
to  be,  in  truth,  the  foundation  of  all  the  labour, 
care   and   induftry  of    mankind  * ;    and  that  if 
men's  practical  ideas  had  been  formed  on  the  plan 
of  univerfal  necejfity,    the  ignava   ratio,  the    inac 
tive  doftrine  of  the  Stoics,  would  have  followed $ 
and  that  there  would  have  been  no  ROOM  for  fore 
thought  about  futurity,  or  any  fort  of  induftry  and 
care  f  :  plainly  implying,  that,   in  this  cafe,  men 
would  fee  and  know  that  all  their  induftry  and 
care  fignified   nothing,  was  in  vain,    and  to  no 
purpofe,  or  of  no  benefit  •,  events  being  fixed  in 
an  irrefragable  chain,  and  not  at  all  DEPENDING 
on  their  care  and  endeavour  •,  as  he  explains  him- 
ielf,  particularly,  in  the  inftance  of  men's  ufe  of 
means  to  prolong  life  J  :  not  only  very  contrary 
to  what  I  largely  maintain  in  my  Inquiry  §,  but 
alfo  very  inconfiftently  with  his  own  fcheme,  in 
what  he  fuppofes  of  the  ends  for  which  God  has 
ib  deeply  implanted  this  deceitful  feeling  in  man's 
nature  •,  in  which  he  manifeftly  fuppofes  mens, 

*  P.  184..         f  P-  189.      I  P-  l84>  l85-       §  Efpecially 
Part  IV.  Sed.  5. 

care 


(     13     ) 

care  and  induftry  not  to  be  in  vain  and  of  no  be 
nefit,  but  of  great  ufe,  yea  of  abfolute  neceffity, 
in  order  to  the  obtaining  the  moft  important 
ends  and  necefTary  purpofes  of  human  life,  and 
to  fulfil  the  ends  of  a6lion  to  the  BEST  ADVAN 
TAGE  •,  as  he  largely  declares  *.  Now,  how  mail 
thefe  things  be  reconciled  ?  That,  if  men  had 
a  clear  view  of  real  truth^  they  would  fee  that 
there  was  no  ROOM  for  their  care  and  induftry, 
becaufe  they  would  fee  it  to  be  in  vain,  and  of  no 
benefit;  and  yet  that  God,  by  having  a  clear 
view  of  real  truth,  fees  that  their  being  excited 
to  care  and  induftry,  will  be  of  excellent  ufe  to 
mankind,  and  greatly  for  the  benefit  of  the 
world,  yea  abfolutely  neceflary  in  order  to  it : 
and  that  therefore  the  great  wifdom  and  good- 
nefs  of  God  to  men  appears,  in  artfully  contriving 
to  put  them  on  care  and  induftry  for  their  good, 
which  good  could  not  be  obtained  without  them ; 
and  yet  both  thefe  things  are  maintained  at  once, 
and  in  the  fame  fentences  and  words  by  this  Au 
thor.  The  very  reafon  he  gives,  why  God  has  put 
this  deceitful  feeling  into  men,  contradicts  and  de- 
ftroys  itfelf  •,  that  God  in  his  great  goodnefs  to 
men  gave  them  fuch  a  deceitful  feeling,  becaule 
it  was  very  ufeful  and  neceflary  for  them,  and 
greatly  for  their  benefit,  or  excites  them  to  care 
and  induftry  for  their  own  good,  which  care  and 
induftry  is  ufeful  and  necefTary  to  that  end  :  and 
yet  the  very  thing  that  this  great  benefit  of  care 
and  induftry  is  given  as  a  reafon  for,  is  God's 
deceiving  men  in  this  very  point,  in  making  them 
think  their  care  and  induftry  to  be  of  great  bene 
fit  to  them,  when  indeed  it  is  of  none  at  all  •,  and 
if  they  faw  the  real  truth,  they  would  fee  all  their 

*  P.  188—192.  and  in  many  other  Places. 

F  f  2  endca- 


endeavours  to  be  wholly  ufelefs,  that  there  was 
NO  ROOM  for  them,  and  that  the  event  does  not  at 
all  DEPEND  upon  them*. 

And  befides,  what  this  Author  fays,  plainly  im 
plies  ( as  appears  by  what  has  been  already  obfer- 
ved),   that  it  is  necefTary  men  mould  be  deceived, 
by  being  made  to  believe  that  future  events  are 
contingent,    and  their  own   future    actions  free, 
with  fuch   a  freedom,  as  fignifies  that  their  ac 
tions   are  not  the  fruit  of  their  own  defires,  or 
defigns,  but  altogether  contingent,  fortuitous  and 
without   a  caufe.     But  how  mould  a  notion  of 
liberty,   confiding  in   accident  or   loofe  chance, 
encourage   care  and  induftry  ?  I  mould  think  it 
would  rather  entirely  difcourage  every  thing  of 
this  nature.     For  furely,  if  our  actions  do  not  de 
pend  on  our  defires  and  defigns,  then  they  do  not 
depend  on  our  endeavours,  flowing  from  our  de- 
fires   and  defigns.     This   Author  himfelf  feems 
to  fuppofe,  that  if  men  had,  indeed,  fuch  a  liberty 
of  contingence,   it  would  render  all  endeavours 
to  determine  or  move  men's  future  volitions,   in 
vain :  he   fays,   that,    in  this    cafe,   to    exhort ,    to 
inftrufl,  to  promi/e,  or  to  threaten^  would  be  to  no 
pnrpole  ^.    Why  ?  Becaufe  (as  he  himfelf  gives 
the  reafon),  then  our  will  would  be  capricious  and 
arbitrary,  and  we  foould  be  thrown  loofe  altogether^ 
and  our  arbitrary  power  could  do  us  good  or  ill  only 
by  accident.     But  if  fuch   a  loofe  fortuitous  ftate 
would  render  vain  others  endeavours  upon  us,  for 
the  fame  reafon  would  it  make  ufelefs  our  endea 
vours  on  ourfelves :    for  events   that    are   truly 
contingent  and  accidental,  and   altogether   loofe 
from,  arid  independent  of,  all  foregoing  caufes,  are 

*  P.  iSS,  189,  &c.        f  P.  178,  213,  214. 

inde- 


(     15     ) 

independent  on  every  foregoing  caufe  within  our- 
felves,  as  well  as  in  others.  -  :••' 

I  fuppofe  that  it  is  fb  far  from  being  true,  that 
our  minds  are  naturally  pofiefTed  with  a  notion  of 
fuch  liberty  as  this,   fo  ftrongly,  that  it  is   im- 
poffible  to  root  it  out,  that   indeed  men  have  no 
fuch  notion  of  liberty  at  all,  and  that  it  is  utter 
ly    impoffible,  by  any  means  whatfoever  to  im 
plant  or  introduce  fuch   a  notion  into  the  mind. 
As  no  fuch  notions  as  imply  felf-contradiction  and 
felf- abolition  can  fubfift  in  the  mind,  as  I  have 
fliewn  in  my  Inquiry  *  •,  I  think  a  mature  fenfible 
coniideration  of  the  matter,  fufficient  to  fatisfy 
any  one,   that  even  the  greateft  and  moft  learned 
advocates   themfelves   for  liberty  of  indifference 
and  felf-determination,  have  no  fuch  notion  ;  and 
that  indeed  they  mean  fomething  wholly  incon- 
fiftent  with,  and  directly  fubverfive  of,  what  they 
ftrenuoufly  affirm,  and  earneflly  contend  for.    By 
a  man's  having  a  power  of  determining  his  own 
will,  they  plainly  mean   a  power  of  determining 
his  will,  as   he  pleafes,  or  as  he  chufes ;  which 
fuppofes  that  the  mind  has  a  choice,  prior  to  its 
going  about  to  confirm  any  action  or  determina 
tion  to  it.     And  if  they  mean  that  they  determine 
even  the  original  or  prime  choice,   by  their  own 
pleafure  or  choice,   as  the  thing  that  caufes  and 
directs  it ;  I  fcruple  not  moft  boldly  to  affirm,  that 
they  fpeak  they  know  not  what,  and  that  of  which 
they  have  no  manner  of  idea  -,   becaufe  no  fuch 
contradictory  notion  can  come  into,  or  have  a  mo 
ment's  fubfiftence  in,  the  mind  of  any  man  liv 
ing,  as  an  original  or  firft  choice  being  caufed,  or 
brought  into  being,  by  choice.  After  all,  they  lay, 

*  P.  257,  258.     See  alfoP.  49,  56,  57,  73,  74.  79,  183— 
187,  281,  282,  298—301. 

they 


they  have  no  higher  or  other  conception  of  li 
berty,  than  that  vulgar  notion  of  it,  which  I  con 
tend  for,  viz.  a  man's  having  power  or  opportu 
nity  to  do  as  he  chufes :  or  if  they  had  a  notion 
that  every  act  of  choice  was  determined  by  choice, 
yet  it  would  deilroy  their  notion  of  the  contin- 
gence  of  choice  •,  for  then  no  one  act  of  choice 
would  arife  contingently,  or  from  a  Hate  of  in 
difference,  but  every  individual  act,  in  all  the 
feries,  would  arife  from  foregoing  bias  or  prefe 
rence,  and  from  a  caufe  predetermining  and  fixing 
its  exiftence,  which  introduces  at  once  'fuch  a 
chain  of  caufes  and  effects,  each  preceding  link 
decifively  fixing  the  following,  as  they  would  by 
all  means  avoid. 

And  fuch  kind  of  delufion  and  felf-contradicti- 
on  as  this,  does  not  arife  in  men's  minds  by  nature : 
it  is  not  owing  to  any  natural  feeling  which  God 
has  ftrongly  fixed  in  the  mind  and  nature  of  man  ; 
but  to  falfe  philofophy,  and  ftrong  prejudice,  from 
a  deceitful  abufe  of  words.  It  is  artificial ;  not 
in  the  fenfe  of  the  Author  of  the  Effays,  fuppofing 
it  to  be  a  deceitful  artifice  of  God ;  but  artificial 
as  oppofed  to  natural,  and  as  owing  to  an  artificial 
deceitful  management  of  terms,  to  darken  and 
confound  the  mind.  Men  have  no  fuch  thing 
when  they  firil  begin  to  exercife  reafon  ;  but  muft 
have  a  great  deal  of  time  to  blind  themfelves,  with 
metaphyfical  confufion,  before  they  can  embrace, 
and  reft  in  fuch  definitions  of  liberty  as  are  given, 
and  imagine  they  underftand  them. 

On  the  whole,  I  humbly  conceive,  that  whofo- 
cver  will  give  himfelf  the  trouble  of  weighing,  what 
I  have  offered  to  confideration  in  my  Inquiry,  muft 
be  fenfible,  that  fuch  a  moral  neceffity  of  men's 
actions  as  I  maintain,  is  not  at  all  inconfiftent  with 
any  liberty  that  any  creature  has,  or  can  have,  as 

a  free3 


(     17    ) 

a  free,  accountable,  moral  agent,  and  fubjeft  of 
moral  government ;  and  that  this  moral  necefilty 
is  fo  far  from  being  inconfiftent  with  praife  and 
blame,  and  the  benefit  and  ufe  of  men's  own  care 
and  labour,  that,  on  the  contrary,  it  implies  the 
very  ground  and  reafon,  why  men's  aclions  are 
to  be  afcribed  to  them  as  their  own,  in  that  man 
ner  as  to  infer  defert,  praife  and  blame,   appro 
bation    and   remorfe   of  confcience,    reward  and 
punimment ;  and  that  it  eftablifhes  the  moral  fy- 
ftem  of  the  univerfe,  and  God's  moral  government, 
in  every  refpect,  with  the  proper  ufe  of  motives, 
exhortations,  commands,  counfels,  promifes,  and 
threatenings ;  and  the  ufe  and  benefit  of  endea 
vours,  care  and  induftry  :  and  that  therefore  there 
is  no  need  that  the  Uriel:  philofophic  truth  mould 
be  at  all  concealed  from  men  ;  no  danger  in  con 
templation  and  profound  difcovery  in  thefe  things. 
So  far  from  this,  that  the  truth  in  this  matter  is 
of  vail  importance,  and  extremely  needful  to  be 
known ;  and  that  the  more  clearly  and  perfectly 
the  real  fad  is  known,  and  the  more  conitantly  it 
is  in  view,  the  better ;  and  particularly,   that  the 
clear  and  full  knowledge  of  that,  which  is  the  true 
fyftem  of  the  univerfe,  in  thefe  refpects,  would 
greatly  eftablifh  the  doctrines  which  teach  the  true 
Chriftian  fcheme  of  Divine  Adminiilration  in  the 
city  of  God,  and  the  Gofpel  of  Jefus  Chrift,  in  its 
moft  important   articles ;    and    that  thefe  things 
never  can  be  well  eflablifhed,  and  the  oppofite  er 
rors,  fo  fubverfive  of  the  whole  Gofpel,  which  at 
this  day  fo  greatly  and  generally  prevail,  be  well 
confuted,    or  the   arguments  by  which  they  are 
maintained,  anfwered,  till  thefe  points  are  fettled : 
while  this  is  not  done,  it  is,  to  rne,  beyond  doubt, 
that  the  friends  of  thofe  great  Gofpel  Truths,  will 
but  poorly  maintain  their  controverfy  with  the 

adver- 


(     i8     ) 

adverfaries  of  thofe  truths :  they  will  be  obliged 
often  to  dodge,  fhuffle,  hide,  and  turn  their  backs  ; 
and  the  latter  will  have  a  ftrong  fort,  from  whence 
they  never  can  be  driven,  and  weapons  to  ufe, 
which  thofe  whom  they  oppofe  will  find  no  fhield 
to  fcreen  themfelves  from  •,  and  they  will  always 
puzzle,  confound,  and  keep  under  the  friends  of 
found  doftrine  •,  and  glory,  and  vaunt  themfelves 
in  their  advantage  over  them  •,  and  carry  their 
affairs  with  an  high  hand,  as  they  have  done  al 
ready  for  a  long  time  pad. 

I  conclude,  Sir,  with  afking  your  pardon  for 
troubling  you  with  fo  much  faid  in  vindication  of 
myfelf  from  the  imputation  of  advancing  a  fcheme 
of  neceffity,  of  a  like  nature  with  that  of  the  Au 
thor  of  the  Effays  on  the  Principles  of  Morality  and 
Natural  Religion.  Confidering  that  what  I  have 
faid  is  not  only  in  vindication  of  myfelf,  but,  as  I 
think,  of  the  moft  important  articles  of  moral 
philofophy  and  religion ;  I  truft  in  what  I  know 
of  your  candour,  that  you  will  excufe, 

Tour  obliged  friend  and  brother^ 
STOCKBRIDGE,  J.    EDWARDS. 

July  25>  I757- 


FINIS. 


BT 
810 
E25 
1775 


Edwards,  Jonathan 

A  careful  and  strict 
enquiry   4th  ed. 


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