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SKETCHES OF THE HISTORY OF MAN.

VOLUME IV.

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SKETCHES OF THE HISTORY OF MAN.

IN FOUR VOLUMES.

By HENRY HOME, Lord KAIMS, Author of Elements of Criticiſm, &c.

VOLUME IV.

DUBLIN: Printed for JAMES WILLIAMS, No. 5, SKINNER-ROW. M,DCC,LXXIV.

SKETCHES OF THE HISTORY OF MAN.

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SKETCH II.
Principles and Progreſs of MORALITY.

THE ſcience of morals, like other ſciences, is in a very imperfect ſtate among ſavages; and arrives at maturity among enlightened nations by very ſlow degrees. This progreſs points out the hiſtorical part, as firſt in order: but as that hiſtory would give little ſatisfaction, without a rule for comparing the morals of different ages, and of different nations, I begin with the principles of morality, ſuch as ought to govern at all times, and in all nations. The preſent ſketch accordingly is divided into two parts. In the firſt, the principles are unfolded; and the ſecond is altogether hiſtorical.

PART I.
PRINCIPLES of MORALITY.

[2]
SECT. I.
HUMAN ACTIONS analyſed.

THE hand of God is no where more viſible, than in the nice adjuſtment of our internal frame to our ſituation in this world. An animal is endued with a power of ſelf-motion; and in performing animal functions, requires not any external aid. This more eſpecially is the caſe of man, the nobleſt of terreſtrial beings. His heart beats, his blood circulates, his ſtomach digeſts, evacuations proceed, &c. &c. By what means? Not ſurely by the laws of mechaniſm, which are far from being adequate to ſuch operations. The operations mentioned are effects of an internal power, beſtowed on man for preſerving life. [3] The power is exerted uniformly, and without interruption, independent of will, and without conſciouſneſs.

Man is a being ſuſceptible of pleaſure and pain: theſe generate deſire to attain what is agreeable, and to ſhun what is diſagreeable; and he is enabled by other powers to gratify his deſires. One power, termed inſtinct, is exerted indeed with conſciouſneſs; but blindly, without will, and without intention to produce any effect. Brute animals act for the moſt part by inſtinct: hunger prompts them to eat, and cold, to take ſhelter; knowingly indeed, but without exerting any act of will, and without foreſight of what will happen. Infants of the human ſpecies, little ſuperior to brutes, are, like brutes, governed by inſtinct: they lay hold of the nipple, without knowing that ſucking will ſatisfy their hunger; and they weep when pained, without any view of relief*. Another power is governed by intention and will. In the progreſs from infancy to maturity, the mind opens to objects, without end, of deſire and of [4] averſion, the attaining or ſhunning of which depend more or leſs on our own will. We are placed in a wide world, left to our own conduct; and we are by nature provided with a proper power for performing what we intend and will. The actions we perform by this power are termed voluntary. There ſtill remain another ſpecies of actions, termed involuntary; as where we act by ſome irreſiſtible motive againſt our will. An action may be voluntary, though done with reluctance; as where a man, to free himſelf from torture, reveals the ſecrets of his friend: his confeſſion is voluntary, though drawn from him with great reluctance. But let us ſuppoſe, that after the firmeſt reſolution to reveal nothing, his mind is unhinged by exquiſite torture; the diſcovery he makes may be juſtly termed involuntary: he ſpeaks indeed; but he is compelled to it abſolutely againſt his will.

Man is by his nature an accountable being, anſwerable for his conduct to God and man. In doing any action that wears a double face, he is prompted by his nature to explain the ſame to his relations, his friends, his acquaintance; and above all, to thoſe who have authority over him. He hopes for praiſe for every right action, and dreads blame for every one that is wrong. But for what ſort of actions does he hold himſelf accountable? Not ſurely for an inſtinctive action, which is done blindly, without intention, and without will: neither for an involuntary action, becauſe it is extorted from him againſt his will: and leaſt of all, for actions done without conſciouſneſs, ſuch as thoſe which preſerve life. What only remain are voluntary actions, which are either right or wrong. Such actions are done wittingly and willingly: for theſe we muſt anſwer, [5] if at all accountable; and for theſe every man in conſcience holds himſelf bound to anſwer.

And now more particularly upon voluntary actions. To intend and to will, though commonly held ſynonymous, ſignify different acts of the mind. Intention reſpects the effect: Will reſpects the action that is exerted for producing the effect. It is my intention, for example, to relieve my friend from diſtreſs: upon ſeeing him, it is my will to give him a ſum for his relief: the external act of giving follows; and my friend is relieved, which is the effect intended. But theſe internal acts, though in their nature different, are always united: I cannot will the means, without intending the effect; and I cannot intend the effect, without willing the means*.

Some effects of voluntary action follow neceſſarily: A wound is an effect that neceſſarily follows the ſtabbing a perſon with a dagger: death is a neceſſary effect of throwing one down from the battlements of a high tower. Some effects are probable only: I labour in order to provide for my family; fight for my country to reſcue it from oppreſſors; take phyſic for my health. In ſuch caſes, the event intended does not neceſſarily nor always follow.

A man, when he wills to act, muſt intend the neceſſary effect: a perſon who ſtabs, certainly intends to wound. But where the effect [6] is probable only, a man may act without intending the effect that follows: a ſtone thrown by me at random into the market-place, may happen to wound a man without my intending it. One acts by inſtinct, without either will or intention: voluntary actions that neceſſarily produce their effect, imply intention: voluntary actions, when the effect is probable only, are ſometimes intended, ſometimes not.

Human actions are diſtinguiſhed from each other by certain qualities, termed right and wrong. But as theſe make the corner-ſtone of morality, they are reſerved to the following ſection.

SECT. II.
Diviſion of Human Actions into RIGHT, WRONG, and INDIFFERENT.
[7]

THE qualities of right and wrong in voluntary actions, are univerſally acknowledged as the foundation of morality; and yet philoſophers have been ſtrangely perplexed about them. The hiſtory of their various opinions, would ſignify little but to darken the ſubject: the reader will have more ſatisfaction in ſeeing theſe qualities explained, without entering at all into controverſy.

No perſon is ignorant of primary and ſecondary qualities, a diſtinction much inſiſted on by philoſophers. Primary qualities, ſuch as figure, coheſion, weight, are permanent qualities, that exiſt in a ſubject whether perceived or not. Secondary qualities, ſuch as colour, taſte, ſmell, depend on the percipient as much as on the ſubject, being nothing when not perceived. Beauty and uglineſs are qualities of the latter ſort: they have no exiſtence but when perceived; and, like all other ſecondary qualities, they are perceived intuitively; having no dependence on reaſon nor [8] on judgment, more than colour has, or ſmell, or taſtea.

The qualities of right and wrong in voluntary actions, are ſecondary, like beauty and uglineſs, and the other ſecondary qualities mentioned. Like them, they are objects of intuitive perception, and depend not in any degree on reaſon or on judgment. No argument is requiſite to prove, that to reſcue an innocent babe from the jaws of a wolf, to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, are right actions: they are perceived to be ſo intuitively. As little is an argument requiſite to prove, that murder, deceit, perjury, are wrong actions: they are perceived intuitively to be ſo. The Deity has beſtowed on man, different faculties for different purpoſes. Truth and falſehood are inveſtigated by the reaſoning faculty. Beauty and uglineſs are objects of a ſenſe, known by the name of taſte. Right and wrong are objects of a ſenſe termed the moral ſenſe or conſcience. And ſuppoſing theſe qualities to be hid from our perception, in vain would we try to diſcover them by any argument, or proceſs of reaſoning: the attempt would be abſurd; no leſs ſo than an attempt to diſcover colour, by reaſoning, or taſte, or ſmell*.

[9] Right and wrong, as mentioned above, are qualities of voluntary actions, and of no other kind. An inſtinctive action is beneficial, is agreeable: but it cannot properly be denominated either right or wrong. An involuntary act is hurtful to the agent, and diſagreeable to the ſpectator; but in the agent it is neither right nor wrong. Theſe qualities alſo depend in no degree on the event. Thus, if, to ſave my friend from drowning, I plunge into a river, the action is right, though I happen to come too late. And if I aim a ſtroke at a man behind his back, the action is wrong, though I happen not to touch him.

The qualities of right and of agreeable, are inſeparable; and ſo are the qualities of wrong and of diſagreeable. A right action, accordingly, is agreeable, not only in the direct perception, but equally ſo in every ſubſequent recollection. And in both circumſtances equally, a wrong action is diſagreeable.

Right actions are diſtinguiſhed by the moral ſenſe into two kinds, viz. what ought to be done, and what may be done, or left undone. Wrong actions admit not that diſtinction: they are all prohibited to be done. To ſay that an action ought to be done, means that we are tied or obliged to perform; and to ſay that an action ought not to be done, means that we are reſtrained from doing it. Though the neceſſity implied in the being tied or obliged, is not phyſical, but [10] only what is commonly termed moral; yet we conceive ourſelves deprived of liberty or freedom, and neceſſarily bound to act or to forbear acting, in oppoſition to every other motive. The neceſſity here deſcribed is termed duty. The moral neceſſity we are under to forbear harming the innocent, is a proper example: the moral ſenſe declares the reſtraint to be our duty, which no motive whatever will excuſe us for tranſgreſſing.

The duty of performing or forbearing any action, implies a right in ſome perſon to exact performance of that duty; and accordingly, a duty or obligation neceſſarily infers a correſponding right. A promiſe on my part to pay L. 100, confers a right to demand performance. The man who commits an injury, violates the right of the perſon injured, which entitles him to demand reparation of the wrong.

Duty is twofold; duty to others, and duty to ourſelves. With reſpect to the former, the doing what we ought to do, is termed juſt: the doing what we ought not to do, and the omitting what we ought to do, are termed unjuſt. With reſpect to ourſelves, the doing what we ought to do, is termed proper: the doing what we ought not to do, and the omitting what we ought to do, are termed improper. Thus, right, ſignifying a quality of certain actions, is a genus; of which juſt and proper are ſpecies: wrong, ſignifying a quality of other actions, is a genus; of which unjuſt and improper are ſpecies.

Right actions left to our free will, to be done, or left undone, come next in order. They are, like the former, right when done; but they differ, in not being wrong when left undone. To remit a juſt debt for the ſake of a growing family, to yield a ſubject in controverſy rather than go to law with a neighbour, generouſly to return [11] good for ill, are examples of this ſpecies. They are univerſally approved as right actions: but as no perſon has a right or title to obligue us to perform ſuch actions, the leaving them undone is not a wrong: no perſon is injured by the forbearance. Actions that come under this claſs, ſhall be termed arbitrary, for want of a more proper deſignation.

So much for right actions, and their diviſions. Wrong actions are of two kinds, criminal and culpable. What are done intentionally to produce miſchief, are criminal: ſuch raſh or unguarded actions as produce miſchief without intention, are culpable. The former are reſtrained by puniſhment, to be handled in the 5th ſection; the latter by reparation, to be handled in the 6th.

The diviſions of voluntary actions are not yet exhauſted. Some there are that, properly ſpeaking, cannot be denominated either right or wrong. Actions done merely for amuſement or paſtime, without intention to produce good or ill, are of that kind; leaping, for example, running, jumping over a ſtick, throwing a ſtone to make circles in the water. Such actions are neither approved nor diſapproved: they may be termed indifferent.

There is no cauſe for doubting the exiſtence of the moral ſenſe, more than for doubting the exiſtence of the ſenſe of beauty, of ſeeing, or of hearing. In fact, the perception of right and wrong as qualities of actions, is no leſs diſtinct and clear, than that of beauty, of colour, or of any other quality; and as every perception is an act of ſenſe, the ſenſe of beauty is not with greater certainty evinced from the perception of beauty, than the moral ſenſe is from the perception of right and wrong. We find this ſenſe diſtributed among individuals in different degrees of perfection: but there perhaps never exiſted any one [12] above the condition of an idiot, who poſſeſſed it not in ſome degree; and were any man intirely deſtitute of it, the terms right and wrong would be to him no leſs unintelligible, than the term colour is to one born blind.

That every individual is endued with a ſenſe of right and wrong, more or leſs diſtinct, will probably be granted; but whether there be among men what may be termed a common ſenſe of right and wrong, producing uniformity of opinion as to right and wrong, is not ſo evident. There is no abſurdity in ſuppoſing the opinions of men about right and wrong, to be as various as about beauty and deformity: and that this ſuppoſition is not deſtitute of foundation, we are led to ſuſpect, upon diſcovering that in different countries, and even in the ſame country at different times, the opinions publicly eſpouſed with regard to right and wrong, are extremely various; that among ſome nations it was held lawful for a man to ſell his children for ſlaves, and in their infancy to abandon them to wild beaſts; that it was held equally lawful to puniſh children, even capitally, for the crime of their parent; that the murdering an enemy in cold blood, was once a common practice; that human ſacrifices, impious no leſs than immoral according to our notions, were of old univerſal; that even in later times, it has been held meritorious, to inflict cruel torments for the ſlighteſt deviations from the religious creed of the plurality; and that among the moſt enlightened nations, there are conſiderable differences with reſpect to the rules of morality.

Theſe facts tend not to diſprove the reality of a common ſenſe in morals: they only prove, that the moral ſenſe has not been equally perfect at all times, nor in all countries. This branch of the hiſtory of morality, is reſerved for the ſecond [13] part. To give ſome preſent ſatisfaction, I ſhall ſhortly obſerve, that the ſavage ſtate is the infancy of man; during which, the more delicate ſenſes lie dormant, leaving nations to the authority of cuſtom, of imitation, and of paſſion, without any juſt taſte of morals more than of the fine arts: but nations, like individuals, ripen gradually, and acquire a refined taſte in morals as well as in the fine arts: after which we find great uniformity of opinion about the rules of right and wrong; with few exceptions, but what may proceed from imbecility, or corrupted education. There may be found, it is true, even in the moſt enlightened ages, men who have ſingular notions of morality; and there may be found the like ſingularity upon many other ſubjects: which no more affords an argument againſt a common ſenſe or ſtandard of right and wrong, than a monſter doth againſt the ſtandard that regulates our external form, or than an exception doth againſt the truth of a general propoſition.

That there is in mankind an uniformity of opinion with reſpect to right and wrong, is a matter of fact of which the only infallible evidence is obſervation and experience: and to that evidence I appeal; entering only a caveat, that, for the reaſon above given, the enquiry be confined to enlightened nations. In the mean time, I take liberty to ſuggeſt an argument from analogy, That if there be great uniformity among the different tribes of men in ſeeing and hearing, in pleaſure and pain, in judging of truth and error, the ſame uniformity ought to hold with reſpect to right and wrong. Whatever minute differences there may be to diſtinguiſh one perſon from another, yet in the general principles that conſtitute our nature, internal and external, there is wonderful uniformity.

[14] This uniformity of ſentiment, which may be termed the common ſenſe of mankind with reſpect to right and wrong, is eſſential to ſocial beings. Did the moral ſentiments of men differ as much as their faces, they would be altogether unqualified for ſociety: diſcord and controverſy would be endleſs, and major vis would be the only rule of meum et tuum.

But ſuch uniformity of ſentiment, though general, is not altogether univerſal: men there are, as above mentioned, who differ from the common ſenſe of mankind with reſpect to various points of morality. What ought to be the conduct of ſuch men? ought they to regulate their conduct by that ſtandard, or by their private conviction? There will be occaſion afterward to obſerve, that we judge of others as we believe they judge of themſelves; and that private conviction is the ſtandard for rewards and puniſhmentsa. But with reſpect to every controverſy about property and pecuniary intereſt, and, in general, about every civil right and obligation, the common ſenſe of mankind is the ſtandard, and not private conviction or conſcience; which I ſhall endeavour to make out as follows.

We have an innate ſenſe of a common nature, not only in our own ſpecies, but in every ſpecies of animals. And that the fact correſponds to our ſenſe of it, is verified by experience; for there appears a remarkable uniformity in creatures of the ſame kind, and a difformity, no leſs remarkable, in creatures of a different kind. As that common nature is perceived to be a model or ſtandard for each individual of the kind, it raiſes wonder to find an individual deviating from the common nature of the ſpecies, whether in its internal [15] or external ſtructure: a child born with averſion to its mother's milk, is a wonder, no leſs than if born without a mouth, or with more than one.

Secondly, The innate ſenſe mentioned dictates, that the common nature of man in particular, is invariable as well as univerſal; that it will be the ſame hereafter as it is at preſent, and as it was in time paſt, the ſame among all nations, and in all corners of the earth: nor are we deceived; becauſe, allowing for ſlight differences occaſioned by culture and other accidental circumſtances, the fact correſponds to our perception.

Thirdly, We perceive that this common nature is right and perfect, and that it ought to be a model or ſtandard for every human being. Any remarkable deviation from it in the ſtructure of an individual, appears imperfect or irregular; and raiſes a painful emotion: a monſtrous birth, exciting curioſity in philoſophers, fails not at the ſame time to excite averſion in every ſpectator.

This ſenſe of perfection in the common nature of man, comprehends every branch of his nature, and particularly the common ſenſe of mankind with reſpect to right and wrong; which accordingly is perceived by all to be perfect, having authority over all men as the ultimate and unerring ſtandard of morals, even in contradiction to private conviction. Thus, a law in our nature binds us to regulate our conduct by that ſtandard: its authority is univerſally acknowledged, as nothing is more common in every diſpute about meum et tuum, than an appeal to it as the ultimate and unerring ſtandard.

At the ſame time, as that ſtandard through infirmity or prejudice, is not conſpicuous to every individual, many are miſled into erroneous opinions, by miſtaking a falſe ſtandard for that of [16] nature. And hence a diſtinction between a right and a wrong ſenſe in morals; a diſtinction which every one underſtands, but which, unleſs for the conviction of a moral ſtandard, would be altogether unintelligible.

The final cauſe of this branch of our nature is conſpicuous. Were there no ſtandard of right and wrong for determining endleſs controverſies about matters of intereſt, the ſtrong would have recourſe to force, the weak to cunning, and ſociety would be intolerable. Courts of law could afford no remedy; for without a ſtandard of morals, their deciſions would be arbitrary, and of no authority. Happy it is for men to be provided with ſuch a ſtandard: it is neceſſary in ſociety that our actions be uniform with reſpect to right and wrong; and in order to uniformity of action, it is neceſſary that our perceptions of right and wrong be alſo uniform: to produce ſuch uniformity, a ſtandard of morals is indiſpenſable. Nature has provided us with that ſtandard, which is daily applied by courts of law with ſucceſs.

In reviewing what is ſaid, it muſt afford great ſatisfaction, to find morality eſtabliſhed upon the moſt ſolid of all foundations, viz. intuitive perception, which is not only a ſingle mental act, but is complete in itſelf, having no dependence on any antecedent propoſition. The moſt accurate reaſoning affords not equal conviction; for every ſort of reaſoning, as explained in the ſketch immediately foregoing, requires not only ſelf-evident truths or axioms to found upon, but employs over and above various propoſitions to bring out its concluſions. By intuitive perception ſolely, without reaſoning, we acquire knowledge of right and wrong; of what we may do, of what we ought to do, and of what we ought [17] to abſtain from: and conſidering that we have thus greater certainty of moral laws, than of any propoſition diſcoverable by reaſoning, man may well be deemed a favourite of heaven, when he is ſo admirably qualified for acting the part that is agreeable to his Maker. The moral ſenſe or conſcience is the voice of God within us; conſtantly admoniſhing us of our duty, and requiring from us no exerciſe of our faculties but attention merely. The celebrated Locke ventured what he thought a bold conjecture, That moral duties might be ſuſceptible of demonſtration: how agreeable would the diſcovery have been to him, that they are founded upon intuitive perception, ſtill more convincing and authoritative!

By one branch of the moral ſenſe, we are taught what we ought to do, and what we ought not to do; and by another branch, what we may do, or leave undone. But ſociety would be imperfect, if the moral ſenſe ſtopped here. There is no particular that tends more to complete ſociety, than what is mentioned in the firſt ſection, viz. That every man is accountable for his conduct to his fellow-creatures; and he is rendered accountable by a third branch of the moral ſenſe, which teaches him, that this is his duty. And it will be made evident afterward, in the 3d ſketch, that we are accountable to our Maker, as well as to our fellow-creatures.

To complete this theory, I add, that an action is right or wrong, independent of the actor's own opinion. Thus, when a man, excited by friendſhip or pity, reſcues a heretic from the flames, the action is right, even though he think it wrong, from a conviction that heretics ought to be burnt. But we apply a different rule to thoſe who act: a man is approved, and held to be innocent, when he does what he himſelf [18] thinks right; he is diſapproved, and held to be guilty, when he does what he himſelf thinks wrong. Thus, to aſſaſſinate an atheiſt for the ſake of religion, is a wrong action; and yet the enthuſiaſt who commits that wrong, may be innocent: and one is guilty who, againſt conſcience, eats meat in lent, though the action is not wrong. In ſhort, an action is perceived to be right or wrong, independent of the actor's own opinion: but he is approved or diſapproved, held to be innocent or guilty, according to his own opinion.

SECT. III.
Laws of Nature reſpecting our MORAL CONDUCT IN SOCIETY.

A Standard being thus eſtabliſhed for regulating our moral conduct in ſociety, we proceed to inveſtigate the laws that reſult from it. But firſt we take under conſideration, what other principles concur with the moral ſenſe to qualify men for ſociety.

[19] When we reflect on the different branches of human knowledge, it might ſeem, that of all ſubjects human nature ſhould be the beſt underſtood; becauſe every man has daily opportunities to ſtudy it, in his own paſſions and in his own actions. But human nature, an intereſting ſubject, is ſeldom left to the inveſtigation of philoſophy. Writers of a ſweet diſpoſition and warm imagination hold, that man is a benevolent being, and that every man ought to direct his conduct for the good of all, without regarding himſelf but as one of the numbera. Thoſe of a cold temperament, and contracted mind, hold him to be an animal entirely ſelfiſh; to evince which, examples are accumulated without endb. Neither of theſe ſyſtems is that of nature. The ſelfiſh ſyſtem is contradicted by the experience of all ages, affording the cleareſt evidence, that men frequently act for the ſake of others, without regarding themſelves, and ſometimes in direct oppoſition to their own intereſt. And however much ſelfiſhneſs may prevail in action, it certainly prevails not in ſentiment and affection: all men conſpire to put a high eſtimation upon generoſity, benevolence and other ſocial virtues; while even the moſt ſelfiſh are diſguſted with ſelfiſhneſs in others, and endeavour to hide it in themſelves. The moſt zealous patron of the ſelfiſh principle will not venture to maintain, that it renders us altogether indifferent about our fellow-creatures. Laying aſide ſelf-intereſt, with every connection of love and hatred, good fortune happening to any one is agreeable [20] to all, and bad fortune happening to any one is diſagreeable to all. On the other hand, the ſyſtem of univerſal benevolence, is no leſs contradictory to experience: from which we learn, that men commonly are diſpoſed to prefer their own intereſt before that of others, eſpecially where there is no ſtrict connection: nor do we find that ſuch bias is oppoſed by the moral ſenſe. Man in fact is a complex being, compoſed of principles, ſome benevolent, ſome ſelfiſh: and theſe principles are ſo juſtly blended in his nature, as to fit him for acting a proper part in ſociety. It would indeed be loſing time to prove, that without ſome affection for his fellow-creatures he would be ill qualified for ſociety. And it will be made evident afterwarda, that univerſal benevolence would be more hurtful to ſociety, than even abſolute ſelfiſhneſs*.

We are now prepared for inveſtigating the laws that reſult from the foregoing principles. The ſeveral duties we owe to others ſhall be firſt [21] diſcuſſed, taking them in order, according to the extent of their influence. And for the ſake of perſpicuity, I ſhall firſt preſent them in a general view, and then proceed to particulars. Of our duties to others, one there is ſo extenſive, as to have for its object all the innocent part of mankind. It is the duty that prohibits us to hurt others: than which no law is more clearly dictated by the moral ſenſe; nor is the tranſgreſſion of any other law more deeply ſtamped with the character of wrong. A man may be hurt externally in his goods, in his perſon, in his relations, and in his reputation. Hence the laws, Do not ſteal; Defraud not others; Do not kill nor wound; Be not guilty of defamation. A man may be hurt internally, by an action that occaſions to him diſtreſs of mind, or by being impreſſed with falſe notions of men and things. Therefore conſcience dictates, that we ought not to treat men diſreſpectfully; that we ought not cauſeleſsly to alienate their affections from others; and, in general, that we ought to forbear whatever may tend to break their peace of mind, or tend to unqualify them for being good men, and good citizens.

The duties mentioned are duties of reſtraint. Our active duties regard particular perſons; ſuch as our relations, our friends, our benefactors, our maſters, our ſervants. It is our duty to honour and obey our parents; and to eſtabliſh our children in the world with all advantages internal and external: we ought to be faithful to our friends, grateful to our benefactors, ſubmiſſive to our maſters, kind to our ſervants, and to aid and comfort every one of theſe perſons when in diſtreſs. To be obliged to do good to others beyond theſe bounds, muſt depend on poſitive [22] engagement; for, as will appear afterward, univerſal benevolence is not a duty.

This general ſketch will prepare us for particulars. The duty of reſtraint comes firſt in view, that which bars us from harming the innocent; and to it correſponds a right in the innocent to be ſafe from harm. This is the great law preparatory to ſociety; becauſe without it, ſociety could never have exiſted. Here the moral ſenſe is inflexible: it dictates, that we ought to ſubmit to any diſtreſs, even death itſelf, rather than procure our own ſafety by laying violent hands upon an innocent perſon. And we are under the ſame reſtraint with reſpect to the property of another; for robbery and theft are never upon any pretext indulged. It is indeed true, that in extreme hunger I may lawfully take food where it can be found; and may freely lay hold of my neighbour's horſe, to carry me from an enemy who threatens death. But it is his duty as a fellow creature to aſſiſt me in diſtreſs; and when there is no time for delay, I may lawfully uſe what he ought to offer were he preſent, and what I may preſume he would offer. For the ſame reaſon, if in a ſtorm my ſhip be driven among the anchor-ropes of another ſhip, I may lawfully cut the ropes in order to get free. But in every caſe of this kind, it would be a wrong in me to uſe my neighbour's property, without reſolving to pay the value. If my neighbour be bound to aid me in diſtreſs, conſcience binds me to make up his loſs*.

[23] The prohibition of hurting others internally, is perhaps not eſſential to the formation of ſocieties, becauſe the tranſgreſſion of that law doth [24] not much alarm plain people: but where manners and refined ſentiments prevail, the mind is ſuſceptible of more grievous wounds than the body; and therefore, without that law, a poliſhed ſociety could have no long endurance.

By adultery, miſchief is done both external and internal. Each ſex is ſo conſtituted, as to require ſtrict fidelity and attachment in a mate: and the breach of theſe duties is the greateſt external harm that can befal them: it harms them alſo internally, by breaking their peace of mind. It has indeed been urged, that no harm will enſue, if the adultery be kept ſecret; and conſequently, that there can be no crime where there is no diſcovery. But ſuch as reaſon thus do not advert, that to declare ſecret adultery to be lawful, is in effect to overturn every foundation of mutual truſt and fidelity in the married ſtate. It is clear beyond all doubt, ſays a reputable writer, that no man is permitted to violate his faith; and that the man is unjuſt and barbarous who deprives his wife of the only reward ſhe has for adhering to the auſtere duties of her ſex. But an unfaithful wife is ſtill more criminal, by diſſolving the whole ties of nature: in giving to her huſband children that are not his, ſhe betrays both, and joins perfidy to infidelitya.

Veracity is commonly ranked among the active duties; but erroneouſly: for if a man be not bound to ſpeak, he cannot be bound to ſpeak truth. It is therefore only a reſtraining duty, prohibiting us to deceive others, by affirming what is not true. Among the many correſponding principles in the human mind that in conjunction tend to make ſociety comfortable, a principle [25] of veracity*, and a principle that leads us to rely on human teſtimony, are two: without the latter, the former would be an uſeleſs principle; and without the former, the latter would lay us open to fraud and treachery. The moral ſenſe accordingly dictates, that we ought to adhere ſtrictly to truth, without regard to conſequences.

It muſt not be inferred, that we are bound to explain our thoughts, when truth is demanded from us by unlawful means. Words uttered voluntarily, are naturally relied on, as expreſſing the ſpeaker's mind; and if his mind differ from his words, he tells a lie, and is guilty of deceit. But words drawn from a man by torture, are no indication of his mind; and he is not guilty of deceit in uttering whatever words may be agreeable, however alien from his thoughts: if the author of the unlawful violence ſuffer himſelf to be deceived, he ought to blame himſelf, not the ſpeaker.

It need ſcarce be mentioned, that the duty of veracity excludes not fable, nor any liberty of ſpeech intended for amuſement ſolely.

[26] Active duties, as hinted above, are all of them directed to particular perſons. And the firſt I ſhall mention is, that which ſubſiſts between a parent and child. The relation of parent and child, the ſtrongeſt that can exiſt between individuals, binds theſe perſons to exert their utmoſt powers in mutual good offices. Benevolence among other blood-relations, is alſo a duty; but not ſo indiſpenſable, being proportioned to the inferior degree of relation.

Gratitude is a duty directed to the perſon who has been kind to us. But though gratitude is ſtrictly a duty, the meaſure of performance, and the kind, are left moſtly to our own choice. It is ſcarce neceſſary to add, that the active duties now mentioned, are acknowledged by all to be abſolutely inflexible, perhaps more ſo than the reſtraining duties: many find excuſes for doing harm; but no one hears with patience an excuſe for deviating from truth, friendſhip, or gratitude.

Diſtreſs tends to convert benevolence into a duty. But diſtreſs alone is not ſufficient, without other concurring circumſtances: for to relieve every perſon in diſtreſs, is beyond the power of any human being. Our relations in diſtreſs claim that duty from us, and even our neighbours: but diſtant diſtreſs, without a particular connection, ſcarce rouſes our ſympathy, and never is an object of duty. Many other connections, too numerous for this ſhort eſſay, extend the duty of relieving others from diſtreſs; and theſe make a large branch of equity. Though in various inſtances, benevolence is thus converted into a duty by diſtreſs, it follows not, that the duty is always proportioned to the degree of diſtreſs. Nature has more wiſely provided for the ſupport of virtue. A virtuous perſon in diſtreſs commands [27] our pity: a vicious perſon in diſtreſs has much leſs influence; and if by vice he have brought on the diſtreſs, indignation is raiſed, not pitya.

One great advantage of ſociety, is the co-operation of many to accompliſh ſome uſeful work, where a ſingle hand would be inſufficient. Arts, manufactures, and commercial dealings, require many hands: but as hands cannot be ſecured without a previous engagement, the performance of promiſes and covenants, is, upon that account, a capital duty in ſociety. In their original occupations of hunting and fiſhing, men living ſcattered and diſperſed, have ſeldom opportunity to aid and benefit each other; and in that ſituation, covenants being of little uſe, are little regarded: but huſbandry requiring the co-operation of many hands, draws men together for mutual aſſiſtance; and then covenants make a figure: arts and commerce make them more and more neceſſary; and in a poliſhed ſociety great regard is paid to them.

But contracts and promiſes are not confined to commercial dealings: they ſerve alſo to make benevolence a duty; and are even extended to connect the living with the dead: a man would die with regret, if he thought his friends were not bound by their promiſes, to fulfil his will after his death: and to quiet the minds of men with reſpect to futurity, the moral ſenſe makes the performing ſuch promiſes our duty. Thus, if I promiſe to my friend to erect a monument for him after his death, conſcience binds me, even though [28] no perſon alive be entitled to demand performance: every one perceives this to be my duty; and I muſt expect to ſuffer reproach and blame, if I neglect my engagement.

To fulfil a rational promiſe or covenant, deliberately made, is a duty no leſs inflexible than thoſe duties are which ariſe independent of conſent. But as man is fallible, often miſled by ignorance or error, and liable to be deceived, his condition would be deplorable, did the moral ſenſe compel him to fulfil every engagement, however imprudent or irrational. Here the moral ſenſe gives way to human infirmity: it relieves from deceit, from impoſition, from ignorance, from error; and binds a man by no engagement but what anſwers the end fairly intended.

The other branch of duties, viz. thoſe we owe to ourſelves, ſhall be diſcuſſed in a few words. Propriety, a branch of the moral ſenſe, regulates our conduct with reſpect to ourſelves; as Juſtice, another branch of the moral ſenſe, regulates our conduct with reſpect to others. Propriety dictates, that we ought to act up to the dignity of our nature, and to the ſtation allotted us by Providence: it dictates in particular, that temperance, prudence, modeſty, and uniformity of conduct, are ſelf duties. Theſe duties contribute to private happineſs, by preſerving health, peace of mind, and ſelf-eſteem; which are ineſtimable bleſſings: they contribute no leſs to happineſs in ſociety, by gaining the love and eſteem of others, and aid and ſupport in time of need.

Upon reviewing the foregoing duties reſpecting others, we find them more or leſs extenſive; but none ſo extenſive as to have for their end the good of mankind in general. The moſt extenſive duty is that of reſtraint, prohibiting us to harm others: but even that duty has a limited [29] end; for its purpoſe is only to protect others from miſchief, not to do them any poſitive good. The active duties of doing poſitive good are circumſcribed within ſtill narrower bounds, requiring ſome relation that connects us with others; ſuch as thoſe of parent, child, friend, benefactor. The ſlighter relations, unleſs in peculiar circumſtances, are not the foundation of any active duty: neighbourhood, for example, does not alone make benevolence a duty: but ſuppoſing a neighbour to be in diſtreſs, it becomes our duty to relieve him, if it can be done without diſtreſs to ourſelves. The duty of relieving from diſtreſs, ſeldom goes farther; for though we always ſympathiſe with our relations, and with thoſe under our eye, the diſtreſs of perſons remote and unknown affects us very little. Pactions and agreements become neceſſary, if we would extend the duty of benevolence, in any particular, beyond the limits mentioned. Men, it is true, are capable of doing more good than is required of them as a duty; but every ſuch good muſt be a free-will offering.

And this leads to arbitrary actions, viz. thoſe that may be done or left undone; which make the ſecond general head of moral actions. With reſpect to theſe, the moral ſenſe leaves us at freedom: a benevolent act is approved, but the omiſſion is not condemned. This holds ſtrictly in ſingle acts; but in viewing the whole of a man's conduct, the moral ſenſe appears to vary a little. As the nature of man is complex, partly ſocial, partly ſelfiſh, we have an intuitive perception, that our conduct ought to be conformable to our nature; and that in advancing our own intereſt, we ought not altogether to neglect that of others. The man accordingly who confines his whole time and thoughts within his [30] own little ſphere, is condemned by all the world as guilty of wrong conduct; and the man himſelf, if his moral perceptions be not blunted by ſelfiſhneſs, muſt be ſenſible that he deſerves to be condemned. On the other hand, it is poſſible that free benevolence may be extended beyond proper bounds. The juſt temperament is a ſubordination of benevolence to ſelf-love: but where benevolence prevails, it commonly leads to exceſs, by prompting a man to ſacrifice a great intereſt of his own to a ſmall intereſt of others; and the moral ſenſe dictates, that ſuch conduct is wrong.

Thus, moral actions are divided into two claſſes: the firſt regards our duty, containing actions that ought to be done, and actions that ought not to be done; the other regards arbitrary actions, containing actions that are right when done, but not wrong when left undone. The well-being of ſociety depends more on the firſt claſs than on the ſecond: ſociety is indeed promoted by the latter; but it can ſcarce ſubſiſt, unleſs the former be made our duty. Hence it is, that actions only of the firſt claſs are made indiſpenſable; thoſe of the other claſs being left to our free-will. And hence alſo it is, that the various propenſities that diſpoſe us to actions of the firſt ſort, are diſtinguiſhed by the name of primary virtues; leaving the name of ſecondary virtues to thoſe propenſities which diſpoſe us to actions of the other ſort*.

[31] The deduction above given makes it evident, that the general tendency of right actions is to promote the good of ſociety, and of wrong actions, to obſtruct that good. Univerſal benevolence is indeed not required of man; becauſe to put that principle in practice, is beyond his utmoſt abilities. But for promoting the general good, every thing is required of him that he can accompliſh; which will appear from reviewing the foregoing duties. The prohibition of harming others is an eaſy taſk; and upon that account is made univerſal. Our active duties are very different: man is circumſcribed both in capacity and power: he cannot do good but in a ſlow ſucceſſion; and therefore it is wiſely ordered, that his obligation to do good ſhould be confined to his relations, his friends, his benefactors. Even diſtreſs makes not benevolence a general duty: all a man can readily do, is to relieve thoſe at hand; and accordingly we hear of diſtant misfortunes with little or no concern.

At the ſame time, let not the moral ſyſtem be miſapprehended, as if it were our duty, or even lawful, to proſecute what upon the whole we reckon the moſt beneficial to ſociety, balancing ill with good. The moral ſenſe permits not a violation of any perſon's right, however trivial, whatever benefit may thereby accrue to another. A man, for example, in low circumſtances, by denying a debt he owes to a rich miſer, ſaves himſelf and a hopeful family from ruin. In that caſe, the good effect far outweighs the ill, or rather has no counterbalance: but the moral ſenſe permits not the debtor to balance ill with good; nor gives countenance to an unjuſt act, whatever benefit it may produce. And hence a maxim in which all moraliſts agree, That we muſt not do [32] ill to bring about even the greateſt good; the final cauſe of which ſhall be given belowa.

SECT. IV.
Principles of DUTY and of BENEVOLENCE.

HAVING thus ſhortly delineated the moral laws of our nature, we proceed to an article of great importance, which is, to enquire into the means provided by our Maker for compelling obedience to theſe laws. The moral ſenſe is an unerring guide; but the moſt expert guide will not profit thoſe who are not diſpoſed to follow. This conſideration makes it evident, that to complete the moral ſyſtem, we ought to be endued with ſome principle or propenſity, ſome impulſive power, to enforce obedience to the laws dictated by the moral ſenſe.

The author of our nature leaves none of his works imperfect. In order to render us obſequious to the moral ſenſe as our guide, he hath implanted in our nature the principles of duty, of benevolence, of rewards and puniſhments, and of reparation. It may poſſibly be thought, that [33] rewards and puniſhments, of which afterward, are ſufficient of themſelves to enforce the laws of nature, without neceſſity of any other principle. Human laws, it is true, are enforced by theſe means; becauſe no higher ſanction is under command of a terreſtrial legiſlator. But the celeſtial legiſlator, with power that knows no control, and benevolence that knows no bounds, hath enforced his laws by means no leſs remarkable for mildneſs than for efficacy: he employs no external compulſion; but, in order to engage our will on the right ſide, hath in the breaſt of every individual eſtabliſhed the principles of duty and of benevolence, which efficaciouſly excite us to obey the dictates of the moral ſenſe.

As the reſtraining, as well as active duties, are eſſential to ſociety, our Maker has wiſely ordered, that the principle which enforces theſe ſeveral duties, ſhould be the moſt cogent of all that belong to our nature. Other principles may ſolicit, allure, or terrify; but the principle of duty aſſumes authority, commands, and muſt be obeyed.

As one great purpoſe of ſociety, is to furniſh opportunities without end of mutual aid and ſupport, nature ſeconding that purpoſe, hath provided the principle of benevolence; which excites us to be kind, beneficent, and generous. Nor ought it to eſcape obſervation, that the Author of nature, attentive to our wants and to our well-being, hath endued us with a liberal portion of that principle. It enforces benevolence, not only to thoſe we are connected with, but to our neighbours, and even to thoſe we are barely acquainted with. Providence is peculiarly attentive to objects in diſtreſs, who require immediate aid and relief. To the general principle of benevolence, it hath ſuperadded the paſſion of pity, [34] which in every feeling heart is irreſiſtible. To make benevolence more extenſive, would be fruitleſs, becauſe here are objects in plenty to fill the moſt capacious mind. It would not be fruitleſs only, but hurtful to ſociety: I ſay hurtful; for inability to procure gratification, rendering benevolence a troubleſome gueſt, would weaken the principle itſelf, and attach us the more to ſelfiſhneſs, which we can always gratify. At the ſame time, though there is not room for greater variety of particular objects, yet the faculty we have of uniting numberleſs individuals in one complex object, enlarges greatly the ſphere of benevolence: by that faculty our country, our government, our religion, become objects of public ſpirit, and of a lively affection. The individuals that compoſe the group, conſidered apart, may be too minute, or too diſtant, for our benevolence; but when comprehended in one great whole, accumulation makes them great, greatneſs renders them conſpicuous; and affection, preſerved entire and undivided, is beſtowed upon an abſtract object, as upon one that is ſingle and viſible; but with much greater energy, being proportioned to its ſuperior dignity and importance. Thus it appears, that the principle of benevolence is not too ſparingly ſcattered among men. It is indeed made ſubordinate to ſelf-intereſt, which is wiſely ordered, as will afterward be made evidenta; but its power and extent are nicely proportioned to the limited capacity of man, and to his ſituation in this world; ſo as better to fulfil its deſtination, than if it were an overmatch for ſelf-intereſt, and for every other principle.

SECT. V.
Laws reſpecting REWARDS and PUNISHMENTS.
[35]

REFLECTING on the moral branch of our nature, qualifying us for ſociety in a manner ſuited to our capacity, we cannot overlook the hand of our Maker; for means ſo finely adjuſted to an important end, never happen by chance. It muſt however be acknowledged, that in many individuals, the principle of duty has not vigour nor authority ſufficient to ſtem every tide of unruly paſſion: by the vigilance of ſome paſſions, we are taken unguarded; deluded by the fly inſinuations of others; or overwhelmed with the ſtormy impetuoſity of a third ſort. Moral evil is thus introduced; and much wrong is done. This new ſcene ſuggeſts to us, that there muſt be ſome article ſtill wanting, to complete the moral ſyſtem. The means provided for directing us in the road of duty have been explained: but as in deviating from the road wrongs are committed, nothing hitherto has been ſaid, about redreſſing ſuch wrongs, nor about preventing the reiteration of them. To accompliſh theſe important ends, there are added to the moral ſyſtem, laws relative [36] to rewards and puniſhments, and to reparation; of which in their order.

Many animals are qualified for ſociety by inſtinct merely; ſuch as beavers, ſheep, monkeys, bees, rooks. But men are ſeldom led by inſtinct: their actions are commonly prompted by paſſions; of which there is an endleſs variety, ſocial and ſelfiſh, benevolent and malevolent. And were every paſſion equally entitled to gratification, man would be utterly unqualified for ſociety: he would be a ſhip without a rudder, obedient to every wind, and moving at random, without any ultimate deſtination. The faculty of reaſon would make no oppoſition: for were there no ſenſe of wrong, it would be reaſonable to gratify every deſire that harms not ourſelves: and to talk of puniſhment would be abſurd; for puniſhment, in its very idea, implies ſome wrong that ought to be redreſſed. Hence the neceſſity of the moral ſenſe, to qualify us for ſociety: by inſtructing us in our duty, it renders us accountable for our conduct, and makes us ſuſceptible of rewards and puniſhments. The moral ſenſe fulfils another valuable purpoſe: it erects in man an unerring ſtandard for the application and meaſure of rewards and puniſhments.

To complete the ſyſtem of rewards and puniſhments, it is neceſſary that a proviſion be made, both of power and of willingneſs to reward and puniſh. The Author of our nature hath provided amply for the former, by entitling every man to reward and puniſh as his native privilege. And he has provided for the latter, by a noted principle in our nature, prompting us to exerciſe the power. Impelled by that principle, we reward the virtuous with approbation and eſteem, and puniſh the vicious with diſapprobation and contempt. So prevalent is the principle, that [37] we have great ſatisfaction in rewarding, and no leſs in puniſhing.

As to puniſhment in particular, an action done intentionally to produce miſchief, is criminal, and merits puniſhment. Such an action, being diſagreeable, raiſes my reſentment, even where I have no connection with the perſon injured; and the principle under conſideration impels me to chaſtiſe the delinquent with indignation and hatred. An injury done to myſelf raiſes my reſentment to a higher tone: I am not ſatisfied with ſo ſlight a puniſhment as indignation and hatred: the author muſt by my hand ſuffer miſchief, as great as he has made me ſuffer.

Even the moſt ſecret crime eſcapes not puniſhment. The delinquent is tortured with remorſe: he even deſires to be puniſhed; ſometimes ſo ardently, as himſelf to be the executioner. There cannot be imagined a contrivance more effectual, to deter one from vice; for remorſe is itſelf a grievous puniſhment. Self-puniſhment goes ſtill farther: every criminal, ſenſible that he ought to be puniſhed, dreads puniſhment from others; and this dread, however ſmothered during proſperity, breaks out in adverſity, or in depreſſion of mind: his crime ſtares him in the face, and every accidental misfortune is in his diſturbed imagination interpreted to be a puniſhment. ‘"And they ſaid one to another, We are verily guilty concerning our brother, in that we ſaw the anguiſh of his ſoul, when he beſought us; and we would not hear: therefore is this diſtreſs come upon us. And Reuben anſwered them, ſaying, Spake I not unto you, ſaying, Do not ſin againſt the child; and ye would [38] not hear? therefore behold alſo his blood is requireda"’ *.

[39] No tranſgreſſion of ſelf-duty eſcapes puniſhment, more than tranſgreſſion of duty to others. The puniſhments, though not the ſame, differ in degree more than in kind. Injuſtice is puniſhed with remorſe: impropriety with ſhame, which is remorſe in a lower degree. Injuſtice raiſes indignation in the beholder, and ſo doth every flagrant impropriety: ſlighter improprieties receive a milder puniſhment, being rebuked with ſome degree of contempt, and commonly with deriſiona.

So far we have been led in a beaten track; but in attempting to proceed, we are entangled in mazes and intricacies. An action well intended, may happen to produce no good; and an action ill intended, may happen to produce no miſchief: a man overawed by fear, may be led to do miſchief againſt his will; and a perſon, miſtaking the ſtandard of right and wrong, may be innocently led to do acts of injuſtice. By what rule, in ſuch caſes, are rewards and puniſhments to be applied? Ought a man to be rewarded when he does no good, or puniſhed when he does no miſchief: ought he to be puniſhed for doing miſchief againſt his will, or for doing miſchief when he thinks he is acting innocently? Theſe queſtions ſuggeſt a doubt, whether the ſtandard of right and wrong be applicable to rewards and puniſhments.

[40] We have ſeen that there is an invariable ſtandard of right and wrong, which depends not in any degree on private opinion or conviction. By that ſtandard, all pecuniary claims are judged, all claims of property, and, in a word, every demand founded on intereſt, not excepting reparation, as will afterward appear. But with reſpect to the moral characters of men, and with reſpect to rewards and puniſhments, a different ſtandard is erected in the common ſenſe of mankind, neither rigid nor inflexible; which is, the opinion that men have of their own actions. It is mentioned above, that a man is eſteemed innocent in doing what he himſelf thinks right, and guilty in doing what he himſelf thinks wrong. In applying this ſtandard to rewards and puniſhments, we reward thoſe who in doing wrong are however convinced that they are innocent; and puniſh thoſe who in doing right are however convinced that they are guilty*. Some, it is true, are ſo perverted by bad education, or by ſuperſtition, as to eſpouſe numberleſs abſurd tenets, contradictory to the ſtandard of right and wrong; and yet ſuch men are no exception from the general rule: if they act according to conſcience, they are innocent, and ſafe againſt puniſhment, however wrong the action may be; and if they act againſt conſcience, they are guilty and puniſhable, however right the action may be: it is abhorrent to every moral perception, that a guilty perſon be rewarded, or an innocent perſon puniſhed. Further, if miſchief be done contrary to Will, as where a [41] man is compelled by fear, or by torture, to reveal the ſecrets of his party; he may be grieved for yielding to the weakneſs of his nature, contrary to his firmeſt reſolves; but he has no check of conſcience, and upon that account is not liable to puniſhment. And, laſtly, in order that perſonal merit and demerit may not in any meaſure depend on chance, we are ſo conſtituted as to place innocence and guilt, not on the event, but on the intention of doing right or wrong; and accordingly, whatever be the event, a man is praiſed for an action well intended, and condemned for an action ill intended.

But what if a man intending a certain wrong, happen by accident to do a wrong he did not intend; as, for example, intending to rob a warren by ſhooting the rabbits, he accidentally wounds a child unſeen behind a buſh? The delinquent ought to be puniſhed for intending to rob; and he is alſo ſubjected to repair the hurt done to the child: but he cannot be puniſhed for the accidental wound; becauſe our nature regulates puniſhment by the intention, and not by the event*.

[42] A crime againſt any primary virtue is attended with ſevere and never-failing puniſhment, more efficacious than any that have been invented to enforce municipal laws: on the other hand, the preſerving primary virtues inviolate, is attended with little merit. The ſecondary virtues are directly oppoſite: the neglecting them is not attended with any puniſhment; but the practice of them is attended with illuſtrious rewards. Offices of undeſerved kindneſs, returns of good for ill, generous toils and ſufferings for our friends or for our country, are attended with conſciouſneſs of ſelf-merit, and with univerſal praiſe and admiration; the higheſt rewards human nature is ſuſceptible of.

[43] From what is ſaid, the following obſervation will occur: The pain of tranſgreſſing juſtice, fidelity, or any duty, is much greater than the pleaſure of performing; but the pain of neglecting a generous action, or any ſecondary virtue, is as nothing, compared with the pleaſure of performing. Among the vices oppoſite to the primary virtues, the moſt ſtriking moral deformity is found; among the ſecondary virtues, the moſt ſtriking moral beauty.

SECT. VI.
Laws reſpecting REPARATION.

THE principle of reparation is made a branch of the moral ſyſtem for accompliſhing two ends: which are, to repreſs wrongs that are not criminal, and to make up the loſs ſuſtained by wrongs of whatever kind. With reſpect to the former, reparation is a ſpecies of puniſhment: with reſpect to the latter, it is an act of juſtice. Theſe ends will be better underſtood, after aſcertaining the nature and foundation of reparation; to which the following diviſion of actions is neceſſary. Firſt, actions that we are bound to perform. Second, actions that we perform in proſecution [44] of a right or privilege. Third, indifferent actions, deſcribed above. Actions of the firſt kind ſubject not a man to reparation, whatever damage enſues; becauſe it is his duty to perform them, and it would be inconſiſtent with morality that a man ſhould be ſubjected to reparation for doing his duty. The laws of reparation that concern actions of the ſecond kind, are more complex. The ſocial ſtate, highly beneficial by affording opportunity for mutual good offices, is attended with ſome inconveniencies; as where a perſon happens to be in a ſituation of neceſſarily harming others by exerciſing a right or privilege. If the foreſight of harming another, reſtrain me not from exerciſing my right, the intereſt of that other is made ſubſervient to mine: on the other hand, if ſuch foreſight reſtrain me from exerciſing my right, my intereſt is made ſubſervient to his. What doth the moral ſenſe provide in that caſe? To preſerve as far as poſſible an equality among perſons born free, and by nature equal in rank, the moral ſenſe lays down a rule, no leſs beautiful than ſalutary; which is, That the exerciſing a right will not juſtify me for doing direct miſchief; but will juſtify me, though I foreſee that miſchief may poſſibly happen. The firſt branch of the rule reſolves into a propoſition eſtabliſhed above, viz. That no intereſt of mine, not even life itſelf, will authoriſe me to hurt an innocent perſon. The other branch is ſupported by expediency: for if the bare poſſibility of hurting others were ſufficient to reſtrain a man from proſecuting his rights and privileges, men would be too much cramped in action; or rather would be reduced to a ſtate of abſolute inactivity. With reſpect to the firſt branch, I am criminal, and liable even to puniſhment: with [45] reſpect to the other, I am not even culpable, nor bound to repair the miſchief that happens to enſue.

With reſpect to the third kind, viz. indifferent actions, the moral ſenſe dictates, that we ought carefully to avoid doing miſchief, either direct or conſequential. As we ſuffer no loſs by forbearing actions that are done for paſtime merely, ſuch an action is culpable or faulty, if the conſequent miſchief was foreſeen or might have been foreſeen; and the actor of courſe is ſubjected to reparation. As this is a cardinal point in the doctrine of reparation, I ſhall endeavour to explain it more fully. Without intending any harm, a man may foreſee, that what he is about to do will probably or poſſibly produce miſchief; and ſometimes miſchief follows that was neither intended nor foreſeen. The action in the former caſe is not criminal; becauſe ill intention is eſſential to a crime: but it is culpable or faulty; and if miſchief enſue, the actor blames himſelf, and is blamed by others, for having done what he ought not to have done. Thus, a man who throws a large ſtone among a crowd of people, is highly culpable; becauſe he muſt foreſee that miſchief will probably enſue, though he has no intention to hurt any perſon. As to the latter caſe, though miſchief was neither intended nor foreſeen, yet if it might have been foreſeen, the action is raſh or uncautious, and conſequently culpable or faulty in ſome degree. Thus, if a man in pulling down an old houſe, happen to wound one paſſing accidentally, without calling aloud to keep out of the way, the action is in ſome degree culpable, becauſe the miſchief might have been foreſeen. But though miſchief enſue, an action is not culpable or faulty if all reaſonable precaution have been adhibited: the moral ſenſe [46] declares the author to be innocent* and blameleſs: the miſchief is accidental, and the action may be termed unlucky, but comes not under the denomination of either right or wrong. In general, when we act merely for amuſement, our nature makes us anſwerable for the harm that enſues, if it was either foreſeen or might with due attention have been foreſeen. But our rights and privileges would profit us little, if their exerciſe were put under the ſame reſtraint: it is more wiſely ordered, that the probability of miſchief, even foreſeen, ſhould not reſtrain a man from proſecuting his concerns which may often be of conſequence to him. He proceeds accordingly with a ſafe conſcience, and is not afraid of being blamed either by God or man.

With reſpect to raſh or uncautious actions, where the miſchief might have been foreſeen though not actually foreſeen, it is not ſufficient to eſcape blame, that a man, naturally raſh or inattentive, acts according to his character: a degree of precaution is required, both by himſelf and by others, ſuch as is natural to the generality of men: he perceives that he might and ought to have acted more cautiouſly; and his conſcience reproaches him for his inattention, no leſs than if he were naturally more ſedate and attentive. Thus the circumſpection natural to mankind in general, is applied as a ſtandard to every individual; and if they fall ſhort of that ſtandard, they are culpable and blameable, [47] however unforeſeen by them the miſchief may have been.

What is ſaid upon culpable actions is equally applicable to culpable omiſſions; for by theſe alſo miſchief may be occaſioned, entitling the ſufferer to reparation. If we forbear to do our duty with an intention to occaſion miſchief, the forbearance is criminal. The only queſtion is, how far forbearance without ſuch intention is culpable. Suppoſing the probability of miſchief to have been foreſeen, though not intended, the omiſſion is highly culpable; and though neither intended nor foreſeen, yet the omiſſion is culpable in a lower degree, if there have been leſs care and attention than are proper for performing the duty required. But ſuppoſing all due care, the omiſſion of extreme care and diligence is not culpable.

By aſcertaining what acts and omiſſions are culpable or faulty, the doctrine of reparation is rendered extremely ſimple; for it may be laid down as a rule without a ſingle exception, That every culpable act, and every culpable omiſſion, binds us in conſcience to repair the miſchief occaſioned by it. The moral ſenſe binds us no farther; for it loads not with reparation the man who is blameleſs and innocent: the harm is accidental; and we are ſo conſtituted as not to be reſponſible in conſcience for what happens by accident. But here it is requiſite, that the man be in every reſpect innocent: for if he intend harm, though not what he has done, he will find himſelf bound in conſcience to repair the accidental harm he has done; as, for example, when aiming a blow unjuſtly at one in the dark, he happens to wound another whom he did not ſuſpect to be there. And hence it is a rule in all municipal laws, That one verſans in illicito is liable to repair every conſequent [48] damage. That theſe particulars are wiſely ordered by the Author of our nature for the good of ſociety, will appear afterwardsa. In general, the rules above mentioned are dictated by the moral ſenſe; and we are compelled to obey them by the principle of reparation.

We are now prepared for a more particular inſpection of the two ends of reparation above mentioned, viz. the repreſſing wrongs that are not criminal, and the making up what loſs is ſuſtained by wrongs of whatever kind. With reſpect to the firſt, it is clear, that puniſhment, in its proper ſenſe, cannot be inflicted for a wrong that is culpable only; and if nature did not provide ſome means for repreſſing ſuch wrongs, ſociety would ſcarce be a comfortable ſtate. Laying conſcience aſide, pecuniary reparation is the only remedy that can be provided againſt culpable omiſſions: and with reſpect to culpable commiſſions, the neceſſity of reparation is ſtill more apparent; for conſcience alone, without the ſanction of reparation, would ſeldom have authority ſufficient to reſtrain us from acting raſhly or uncautiouſly, even where the poſſibility of miſchief is foreſeen, and far leſs where it is not foreſeen.

With reſpect to the ſecond end of reparation, my conſcience dictates to me, that if a man ſuffer by my fault, whether the miſchief was foreſeen or not foreſeen, it is my duty to make up his loſs; and I perceive intuitively, that the loſs ought to reſt ultimately upon me, and not upon the ſufferer, who has not been culpable in any degree.

In every caſe where the miſchief done can be eſtimated by a pecuniary compenſation, the two [49] ends of reparation coincide. The ſum is taken from the one as a ſort of puniſhment for his fault, and is beſtowed on the other to make up the loſs he has ſuſtained. But in numberleſs caſes where miſchief done cannot be compenſated with money, reparation is in its nature a ſort of puniſhment. Defamation, contemptuous treatment, perſonal reſtraint, the breaking one's peace of mind, are injuries that cannot be repaired by money; and the pecuniary reparation decreed againſt the wrong-doer, can only be a ſort of puniſhment, in order to deter him from reiterating ſuch injuries: the ſum, it is true, is awarded to the perſon injured; but not as ſufficient to make up his loſs, which money cannot do, but only as a ſolatium for what he has ſuffered.

Hitherto it is ſuppoſed, that the man who intends a wrong action, is, at the ſame time, conſcious of its being ſo. But a man may intend a wrong action, thinking erroneouſly that it is right; or a right action, thinking erroneouſly that it is wrong; and the queſtion is, What ſhall be the conſequence of ſuch errors with reſpect to reparation. The latter caſe is clear: the perſon who occaſionally ſuffers loſs by a right action, has not a claim for reparation, becauſe he has no juſt cauſe of complaint. On the other hand, if the action be wrong, the innocence of the author, for which he is indebted to an error in judgment, will not relieve him from reparation. When he is made ſenſible of his error, he feels himſelf bound in conſcience to repair the harm he has done by a wrong action: and others, ſenſible of his error from the beginning, have the ſame feeling: nor will his obſtinacy in reſiſting conviction, or his dullneſs in not apprehending his error, mend the matter: it is well that theſe defects relieve him from puniſhment, without wronging [50] others by denying a claim for reparation. A man's errors ought to affect himſelf only, and not thoſe who have not erred. Hence in general, reparation always follows wrong; and is not affected by any erroneous opinion of a wrong action being right, more than of a right action being wrong.

But this doctrine ſuffers an exception with reſpect to a man, who having undertaken a truſt, is bound in duty to act. A judge is in that ſituation: it is his duty to pronounce ſentence in every caſe that comes before him; and if he judge according to the beſt of his knowledge, he is not liable for conſequences. A judge cannot be ſubjected to reparation, unleſs it can be verified, that the judgment he gave was intentionally wrong. An officer of the revenue is in the ſame predicament. Led by a doubtful clauſe in a ſtatute, he makes a ſeizure of goods as forfeited to the crown, which afterward, in the proper court, are found not to be ſeizable. The officer ought not to be ſubjected to reparation, if he have acted to the beſt of his judgment. This rule however muſt be taken with a limitation: a public officer who is groſsly erroneous, will not be excuſed; for he ought to know better.

Reparation is due, though the immediate act be involuntary, provided it be connected with a preceding voluntary act. Example: ‘"If A ride an unruly horſe in Lincolns-inn fields, to tame him, and the horſe breaking from A, run over B and grievouſly hurt him; B ſhall have an action againſt A: for though the miſchief was done againſt the will of A, yet ſince it was his fault to bring a wild horſe into a frequented place, where miſchief might enſue, he muſt anſwer for the conſequences."’ Gaius ſeems to carry this rule ſtill farther, holding in general, that if a horſe, by the weakneſs or unſkilfulneſs [51] of the rider, break away and do miſchief, the rider is liablea. But Gaius probably had in his eye a frequented place, where the miſchief might have been foreſeen. Thus in general a man is made liable for the miſchief occaſioned by his voluntary deed, though the immediate act that occaſioned the miſchief be involuntary.

SECT. VII.
FINAL CAUSES of the foregoing Laws of Nature.

SEVERAL final cauſes have been occaſionally mentioned in preceding parts of this eſſay, which could not conveniently be reſerved for the preſent ſection, being neceſſary for explaining the ſubjects to which they relate, the final cauſe for inſtance of erecting a ſtandard of morals upon the common ſenſe of mankind. I proceed now to what have not been mentioned, or but ſlightly mentioned.

The final cauſe that preſents itſelf firſt to view, reſpects man conſidered as an accountable being. The ſenſe of being accountable, is one [52] of our moſt vigilant guards againſt the ſilent attacks of vice. When a temptation moves me, it immediately occurs, What will the world ſay? I imagine my friends expoſtulating, my enemies reviling—I dare not diſſemble—my ſpirits ſink—the temptation vaniſhes. 2dly, Praiſe and blame, eſpecially from thoſe we regard, are ſtrong incentives to virtue: but if we were not accountable for our conduct, praiſe and blame would be ſeldom well directed; for how ſhould a man's intentions be known, without calling him to account? And praiſe or blame, frequently illdirected, would loſe their influence. 3dly, This branch of our nature, is the corner-ſtone of the criminal law. Did not a man think himſelf accountable to all the world, and to his judge in a peculiar manner, it would be natural for him to think, that the juſteſt ſentence pronounced againſt him, is oppreſſion, not juſtice. 4thly, This branch is a ſtrong cement to ſociety. If we were not accountable beings, thoſe connected by blood, or by country, would be no leſs ſhy and reſerved, than if they were mere ſtrangers to each other.

The final cauſe that next occurs, being ſimple and obvious, is mentioned only that it may not ſeem to have been overlooked. All right actions are agreeable, all wrong actions diſagreeable. This is a wiſe appointment of Providence. We meet with ſo many temptations againſt duty, that it is not always an eaſy taſk to perſevere in the right path: would we perſevere, were duty diſagreeable? And were acts of pure benevolence diſagreeable, they would be extremely rare, however worthy of praiſe.

Another final cauſe reſpects duty, in contradiſtinction to pure benevolence. All the moral laws are founded on intuitive perception; and are ſo ſimple and plain, as to be perfectly apprehended [53] by the moſt ignorant. Were they in any degree complex or obſcure, they would be perverted by ſelfiſhneſs and prejudice. No conviction inferior to what is afforded by intuitive perception, could produce in mankind a common ſenſe with reſpect to moral duties. Reaſon would afford no general conviction; becauſe that faculty is diſtributed in portions ſo unequal, as to bar all hopes from it of uniformity either in practice or in opinion. At the ſame time, we are taught by woful experience, that reaſon has little influence over the greater part of men. Reaſon, it is true, aided by experience, ſupports morality, by convincing us, that we cannot be happy if we abandon duty for any other intereſt. But conviction ſeldom weighs much againſt imperious paſſion; to control which the vigorous and commanding principle of duty is requiſite, directed by the ſhining light of intuition.

A propoſition laid down above appears to be a ſort of myſtery in the moral ſyſtem, viz. That though evidently all moral duties are contrived for promoting the general good, yet that choice is not permitted among different goods, or between good and ill; and that we are ſtrictly tied down to perform or forbear certain particular acts, without regard to conſequences; or, in other words, that we muſt not do wrong, whatever good it may produce. The final cauſe, which I am about to unfold, will clear this myſtery, and ſet the beauty of the moral ſyſtem in a conſpicuous light. I begin with obſerving, that as the general good of mankind, or even of the ſociety we live in, reſults from many and various circumſtances intricately combined, it is far above the capacity of man, to judge in every inſtance what particular actions will tend the moſt to that end. The authoriſing therefore a man to trace [54] out his duty, by weighing endleſs circumſtances good and ill, would open a wide door to partiality and paſſion, and often lead him unwittingly to prefer the preponderating ill, under a falſe appearance of being the greater good. At that rate, the opinions of men about right and wrong, would be as various as their faces; which, as obſerved above, would totally unhinge ſociety. It is better ordered by Providence, even for the general good, that, avoiding complex and obſcure objects, we are directed by the moral ſenſe to perform certain plain and ſimple acts, which are obvious to us by intuitive perception.

In the next place, To permit ill in order to produce greater good, may ſuit a being of univerſal benevolence; but is repugnant to the nature of man, compoſed of ſelfiſh and benevolent principles. We have ſeen above, that the true moral balance depends on a ſubordination of ſelf-love to duty, and of arbitrary benevolence to ſelf-love; and accordingly every man is ſenſible of injuſtice when he is hurt in order to benefit another. Were it a rule in ſociety, That a greater good to any other would make it an act of juſtice to deprive me of my life, of my reputation, or of my property, I ſhould renounce the ſociety of men, and aſſociate with more harmleſs animals.

Thirdly, The true moral ſyſtem, that which is diſplayed above, is not only better ſuited to the nature of man, and to his limited capacity and intelligence, but contributes more to the general good, which I now proceed to demonſtrate. It would be loſing time to prove, that a man entirely ſelfiſh is ill fitted for ſociety; and we have ſeena, that univerſal benevolence, were it a [55] duty, would contribute to the general good perhaps leſs than abſolute ſelfiſhneſs. Man is too limited in capacity and in power for univerſal benevolence. Even the greateſt monarch has not power to exerciſe his benevolence but within a very ſmall compaſs; and if ſo, how unfit would ſuch a duty be for private perſons, who have very little power? Serving only to diſtreſs them by inability of performance, they would endeavour to ſmother it altogether, and give full ſcope to ſelfiſhneſs. Man is much better qualified for doing good, by a conſtitution in which benevolence is duly blended with ſelf-love. Benevolence, as a duty, takes place of ſelf-love; a regulation eſſential to ſociety. Benevolence, as a virtue, not a duty, gives place to ſelf-love; becauſe as every man has more power, knowledge and opportunity, to promote his own good than that of others, a greater quantity of good is produced, than if benevolence were our only principle of action. This holds, even ſuppoſing no harm done to any perſon: much more would it hold, were we permitted to hurt ſome, in order to produce more good to others.

The foregoing final cauſes reſpect morality in general. We now proceed to particulars; and the firſt and moſt important is the law of reſtraint. Man is evidently framed for ſociety: and as there can be no ſociety among creatures who prey upon each other, it was neceſſary to provide againſt mutual injuries; which is effectually done by this law. Its neceſſity with reſpect to perſonal ſecurity is ſelf-evident; and with reſpect to property, its neceſſity will appear from what follows. In the nature of every man, there is a propenſity to hoard or ſtore up things uſeful to himſelf and family. But this natural propenſity would be rendered ineffectual, were he [56] not ſecured in the poſſeſſion of what he thus ſtores up; for no man will toil to accumulate what he cannot ſecurely poſſeſs. This ſecurity is afforded by the moral ſenſe, which dictates, that the firſt occupant of goods provided by nature for the ſubſiſtence of man, ought to be ſecure in his poſſeſſion, and that ſuch goods ought to be inviolable as his property. Thus, by the great law of reſtraint, men have a protection for their goods, as well as for their perſons; and are no leſs ſecure in ſociety, than if they were ſeparated from each other by impregnable walls.

Several other duties are little leſs eſſential than that of reſtraint to the exiſtence of ſociety. Mutual truſt and confidence, without which ſociety would be an uncomfortable ſtate, enter into the character of the human ſpecies; to which the duties of veracity and fidelity correſpond. The final cauſe of theſe correſponding duties, is obvious: the latter would be of no uſe in ſociety without the former; and the former, without the latter, would be hurtful, by laying men open to fraud and deceit.

With reſpect to veracity in particular, man is ſo conſtituted, that he muſt be indebted to information for the knowledge of moſt things that benefit or hurt him; and if he could not depend upon information, ſociety would be very little beneficial. Further, it is wiſely ordered, that we ſhould be bound by the moral ſenſe always to ſpeak truth, even where we perceive no harm in tranſgreſſing that duty; becauſe it is ſufficient that harm may enſue, though not foreſeen. At the ſame time, falſehood always does miſchief: it may happen not to injure us externally in our reputation, or in our goods: but it never fails to injure us internally; for one great bleſſing of ſociety [57] is, a candid intercourſe of ſentiments, of opinions, of deſires, of wiſhes; and to admit any falſehood in ſuch intercourſe, would poiſon the moſt refined pleaſures of life.

Becauſe man is the weakeſt of all animals in a ſtate of ſeparation; and the very ſtrongeſt in ſociety, by mutual aid and ſupport to which covenants and promiſes greatly contribute, theſe are made binding by the moral ſenſe.

The final cauſe of the law of propriety, which enforces the duty we owe to ourſelves, comes next in order. In diſcourſing upon thoſe laws of nature which concern ſociety, there is no occaſion to mention any ſelf-duty but what relates to ſociety; of which kind are prudence, temperance, induſtry, firmneſs of mind. And that ſuch qualities ſhould be made our duty, is wiſely ordered in a double reſpect; firſt, as qualifying us to act a proper part in ſociety, and next, as intitling us to good-will from others. It is the intereſt, no doubt, of every man, to ſuit his behaviour to the dignity of his nature, and to the ſtation allotted him by Providence; for ſuch rational conduct contributes to happineſs, by preſerving health, procuring plenty, gaining the eſteem of others, and, which of all is the greateſt bleſſing, by gaining a juſtly-founded ſelf-eſteem. But here intereſt ſolely is not relied on: the powerful authority of duty is added, that in a matter of the utmoſt importance to ourſelves, and of ſome importance to the ſociety we live in, our conduct may be regular and ſteady. Theſe duties tend not only to render a man happy in himſelf, but alſo, by procuring the good-will and eſteem of others, to command their aid and aſſiſtance in time of need.

I proceed to the final cauſes of natural rewards and puniſhments. It is laid down above, that [58] controverſies about property and about other matters of intereſt, muſt be adjuſted by the ſtandard of right and wrong. But to bring rewards and puniſhments under the ſame ſtandard, without regard to private conſcience, would be a plan unworthy of our Maker. It is extremely clear, that to reward one who is not conſcious of merit, or to puniſh one who is not conſcious of guilt, cannot anſwer any good end; and in particular, cannot tend either to improvement or to reformation of manners. How much more like the Deity is the plan of nature, which rewards no man who is not conſcious that he merits reward, and puniſhes no man who is not conſcious that he merits puniſhment! By that plan, and by that only, rewards and puniſhments accompliſh every good end; a final cauſe moſt illuſtrious! The rewards and puniſhments that attend the primary and ſecondary virtues, are finely contrived for ſupporting the diſtinction between them, ſet forth above. Puniſhment muſt be confined to the tranſgreſſion of primary virtues, it being the intention of nature, that ſecondary virtues be entirely free. On the other hand, ſecondary virtues are more highly rewarded than primary: generoſity, for example, makes a greater figure than juſtice; and magnanimity, heroiſm, undaunted courage, a ſtill greater figure. One would imagine, at firſt view, that primary virtues, being more eſſential, ſhould be intitled to the firſt place in our eſteem, and be more amply rewarded than ſecondary; and yet in elevating the latter above the former, peculiar wiſdom and foreſight are conſpicuous. Puniſhment is appropriated to enforce primary virtues; and if theſe virtues were alſo attended with high rewards, ſecondary virtues, degraded to a lower rank, would be deprived of that enthuſiaſtic [59] admiration which is their chief ſupport: ſelf-intereſt would univerſally prevail over benevolence, and baniſh thoſe numberleſs favours we receive from each other in ſociety, which are beneficial in point of intereſt, and ſtill more ſo by generating affection and friendſhip.

In our progreſs through final cauſes we come at laſt to reparation, one of the principles deſtined by Providence for redreſſing wrongs committed, and for preventing the reiteration of them. The final cauſe of this principle, when the miſchief ariſes from intention, is clear: for to protect individuals in ſociety, it is not ſufficient that the delinquent be puniſhed; it is neceſſary over and above, that the miſchief be repaired.

Secondly, Where the act is wrong or unjuſt, though not underſtood by the author to be ſo, it is wiſely ordered that reparation ſhould follow; which will thus appear. Conſidering the fallibility of man, it would be too ſevere to permit advantage to be taken of one's error in every circumſtance. On the other hand, to make it a law in our nature, never to take advantage of error, would be giving too much indulgence to indolence and remiſſion of mind, tending to make us neglect the improvement of our rational faculties. Our nature is ſo happily framed, as to avoid theſe extremes by diſtinguiſhing between gain and loſs. No man is conſcious of wrong, when he takes advantage of an error committed by another to ſave himſelf from loſs: if there muſt be a loſs, common ſenſe dictates, that it ought to reſt upon the perſon who has erred, however innocently, rather than upon the perſon who has not erred. Thus, in a competition among creditors about the eſtate of their bankrupt [60] debtor, every one is at liberty to avail himſelf of every error committed by his competitor, in order to recover payment. But in lucro captando, the moral ſenſe teacheth a different leſſon; which is, that no man ought to lay hold of another's error to make gain by it. Thus, an heir finding a rough diamond in the repoſitories of his anceſtor, gives it away, miſtaking it for a common pebble: the purchaſer is in conſcience and equity bound to reſtore, or to pay a juſt price.

Thirdly, The following conſiderations unfold a final cauſe, no leſs beautiful than that laſt mentioned. Society could not ſubſiſt in any tolerable manner, were full ſcope given to raſhneſs and negligence, and to every action that is not ſtrictly criminal; whence it is a maxim founded no leſs upon utility than upon juſtice, That men in ſociety ought to be extremely circumſpect, as to every action that may poſſibly do harm. On the other hand, it is alſo a maxim, That as the proſperity and happineſs of man depend on action, activity ought to be encouraged, inſtead of being diſcouraged by dread of conſequences. Theſe maxims, ſeemingly in oppoſition, have natural limits that prevent their encroaching upon each other. There is a certain degree of attention and circumſpection that men generally beſtow upon affairs, proportioned to their importance: if that degree were not ſufficient to defend againſt a claim of reparation, individuals would be too much cramped in action; which would be a great diſcouragement to activity: if a leſs degree were ſufficient, there would be too great ſcope for raſh or remiſs conduct; which would prove the bane of ſociety. Theſe limits, which evidently tend to the good of ſociety, are adjuſted by the moral ſenſe; which dictates, as laid down in the ſection of Reparation, that the man who acts with foreſight [61] of the probability of miſchief, or acts raſhly and uncautiouſly without ſuch foreſight, ought to be liable for conſequences; but that the man who acts cautiouſly, without foreſeeing or ſuſpecting any miſchief, ought not to be liable for conſequences.

In the ſame ſection it is laid down, that the moral ſenſe requires from every man, not his own degree of vigilance and attention, which may be very ſmall, but that which belongs to the common nature of the ſpecies. The final cauſe of that regulation will appear upon conſidering, that were reparation to depend upon perſonal circumſtances, there would be a neceſſity of enquiring into the characters of men, their education, their manner of living, and the extent of their underſtanding; which would render judges arbitrary, and ſuch law-ſuits inextricable. But by aſſuming the common nature of the ſpecies as a ſtandard, by which every man in conſcience judges of his own actions, law-ſuits about reparation are rendered eaſy and expeditious.

SECT VIII.
LIBERTY and NECESSITY conſidered with reſpect to Morality.

HAVING, in the foregoing ſections, aſcertained the reality of a moral ſenſe, with its ſentiments of approbation and diſapprobation, [62] praiſe and blame; the purpoſe of the preſent ſection is, to ſhew, that theſe ſentiments are conſiſtent with the laws that govern the actions of man as a rational being. In order to which it is firſt neceſſary to explain theſe laws; for there has been much controverſy about them, eſpecially among divines of the Arminian and Calviniſt ſects.

Human actions, as laid down in the firſt ſection, are of three kinds: one, where we act by inſtinct, without any view to conſequences; one, where we act by will in order to produce ſome effect; and one, where we act againſt will. With reſpect to the firſt, the agent acts blindly, without deliberation or choice; and the external act follows neceſſarily from the inſtinctive impluſe*. Actions done with a view to an end, are in a very different condition: in theſe, deliberation, choice, will, enter: the intention to accompliſh the end goes firſt; the will to act in order to accompliſh the end is next; and the external [63] act follows of courſe. It is the will then that governs every action done as means to an end; and it is deſire to accompliſh the end that puts the will in motion; deſire in this view being commonly termed the motive to act. Thus, hearing that my friend is in the hands of robbers, I burn with deſire to free him: deſire influences my will to arm my ſervants, and to fly to his relief. Actions done againſt will come in afterward.

But what is it that raiſes deſire? The anſwer is at hand: it is the proſpect of attaining ſome agreeable end, or of avoiding one that is diſagreeable. And if it be again enquired, What makes an object agreeable or diſagreeable, the anſwer is equally ready, that our nature makes it ſo; and more we cannot ſay. Certain viſible objects are agreeable, certain ſounds, and certain ſmells: other objects of theſe ſenſes are diſagreeable. But there we muſt ſtop; for we are far from being ſo intimately acquainted with our own nature as to aſſign the cauſes. Theſe hints are ſufficient for my preſent purpoſe: if one be curious to know more, the theory of deſire, and of agreeableneſs and diſagreeableneſs, will be found in Elements of Criticiſma.

With reſpect to inſtinctive actions, no perſon, I preſume, thinks that there is any freedom, more than in acts done againſt will: an infant applies to the nipple, and a bird builds its neſt, no leſs neceſſarily than a ſtone falls to the ground. With reſpect to voluntary actions, ſuch as are done with a view to an end, the neceſſity is the ſame, though leſs apparent at firſt view. The external [64] action is determined by the will: the will is determined by deſire: and deſire by what is agreeable or diſagreeable. Here is a chain of cauſes and effects, not one link of which is arbitrary, or under command of the agent: he cannot will but according to his deſire: he cannot deſire but according to what is agreeable or diſagreeable in the objects perceived: nor do theſe qualities depend on his inclination or fancy; he has no power to make a beautiful woman ugly, nor to make a rotten carcaſe ſweet.

Many good men apprehending danger to morality from holding our actions to be neceſſary, endeavour to break the chain of cauſes and effects above mentioned, maintaining, ‘"That whatever influence deſire or motives may have, it is the agent himſelf who is the cauſe of every action; that deſire may adviſe, but cannot command; and therefore that a man is ſtill free to act in contradiction to deſire and to the ſtrongeſt motives."’ That a being may exiſt, which in every caſe acts blindly and arbitrarily, without having any end in view, I can make a ſhift to conceive: but it is difficult for me even to imagine a thinking and rational being, that has affections and paſſions, that has a deſireable end in view, that can eaſily accompliſh this end; and yet, after all, can fly off, or remain at reſt, without any cauſe, reaſon, or motive, to ſway it. If ſuch a whimſical being can poſſibly exiſt, I am certain that man is not ſuch a being. There is perhaps not a perſon above the condition of a changeling, but can ſay why he did ſo and ſo, what moved him, what he intended. Nor is a ſingle fact ſtated to make us believe, that ever a man acted againſt his own will or deſire, who was not compelled by external violence. On the contrary, conſtant and univerſal experience proves, [65] that human actions are governed by certain inflexible laws; and that a man cannot exert his ſelf-motive power, but in purſuance of ſome deſire or motive.

Had a motive always the ſame influence, actions proceeding from it would appear no leſs neceſſary than the actions of matter. The various degrees of influence that motives have on different men at the ſame time, and on the ſame man at different times, occaſion a doubt by ſuggeſting a notion of chance. Some motives however have ſuch influence, as to leave no doubt: a timid female has a phyſical power to throw herſelf into the mouth of a lion, roaring for food; but ſhe is with-held by terror no leſs effectually than by cords: if ſhe ſhould ruſh upon the lion, would not every one conclude that ſhe was frantic? A man, though in a deep ſleep, retains a phyſical power to act, but he cannot exert it. A man, though deſperately in love, retains a phyſical power to refuſe the hand of his miſtreſs; but he cannot exert that power in contradiction to his own ardent deſire, more than if he were faſt aſleep. Now if a ſtrong motive have a neceſſary influence, there is no reaſon for doubting, but that a weak motive muſt alſo have its influence, the ſame in kind, though not in degree. Some actions indeed are ſtrangely irregular; but let the wildeſt action be ſcrutinized, there will always be diſcovered ſome motive or deſire, which, however whimſical or capricious, was what influenced the perſon to act. Of two contending motives is it not natural to expect, that the ſtronger will prevail, however little its exceſs may be? If there be any doubt, it muſt be from a ſuppoſition that a weak motive can be reſiſted arbitrarily. Where then are we to fix the boundary between a weak and a ſtrong motive? If a [66] weak motive can be reſiſted, why not one a little ſtronger, and why not the ſtrongeſt? In Elements of Criticiſma the reader will find many examples of contrary motives weighing againſt each other. Let him ponder theſe with the ſtricteſt attention: his concluſion will be, that between two motives, however nearly balanced, a man has not an arbitrary choice, but muſt yield to the ſtronger. The mind indeed fluctuates for ſome time, and feels itſelf in a meaſure looſe: at laſt, however, it is determined by the more powerful motive, as a balance is by the greater weight after many vibrations.

Such then are the laws that govern our voluntary actions. A man is abſolutely free to act occording to his own will; greater freedom than which is not conceivable. At the ſame time, as man is made accountable for his conduct, to his Maker, to his fellow-creatures, and to himſelf, he is not left to act arbitrarily; for at that rate he would be altogether unaccountable: his will is regulated by deſire; and deſire by what pleaſes or diſpleaſes him. Where we are ſubjected to the will of another, would it be our wiſh, that his will ſhould be under no regulation? And where we are guided by our own will, would it be reaſonable to wiſh, that it ſhould be under no regulation, but be exerted without reaſon, without any motive, and contrary to common ſenſe? Thus, with regard to human conduct, there is a chain of laws eſtabliſhed by nature, not one link of which is left arbitrary. By that wiſe ſyſtem, man is rendered accountable: by it, he is made a fit ſubject for divine and human government: by it, perſons of ſagacity foreſee the conduct of [67] others: and by it, the preſcience of the Deity with reſpect to human actions, is firmly eſtabliſhed.

The abſurd figure men would make if they could act contrary to motives, ſhould be ſufficient, one may think, to open our eyes without an argument. What a deſpicable figure does a perſon make, upon whom the ſame motive has great influence at one time, and very little at another? He is a bad member of ſociety, and cannot be relied on as a friend or as an aſſociate. But how highly rational is this ſuppoſed perſon, compared with one who can act in contradiction to every motive? The former may be termed whimſical or capricious: the latter is worſe; he is abſolutely unaccountable, and cannot be the ſubject of government, more than a lump of matter unconſcious of its own motion.

Let the faculty of acting be compared with that of reaſoning: the compariſon will tend to ſoften our reluctance to the neceſſary influence of motives. A man ſometimes blunders in reaſoning; but he is tied by his nature, to form concluſions upon what appears to him true at the time. If he could arbitrarily form a different concluſion, what an abſurd reaſoner would he be! Would a man be leſs abſurd, if he had a power of acting againſt motives, and contrary to what he thinks right or eligible? To act in that manner, is inconſiſtent with any notion we can form of a ſenſible being. Nor do we ſuppoſe that man is ſuch a being: in accounting for any action, however whimſical, we always aſcribe it to ſome motive, never once dreaming that there was no motive.

And after all, where would be the advantage of ſuch an arbitrary power? Can a rational man wiſh ſeriouſly to have ſuch a power? or can he [68] ſeriouſly think, that God would make man ſo whimſical a being? To endue man with a degree of ſelf-command ſufficient to reſiſt every vicious motive, without any power to reſiſt thoſe that are virtuous, would indeed be a gift of value; but too great for man, becauſe it would exalt him to be an angel. But ſuch ſelf-command as to reſiſt both equally, which is the preſent ſuppoſition, would unqualify us for being governed either by God or by man. Better far to be led as rational creatures by the proſpect of good, however erroneous our judgment may ſometimes be.

Conſidering that man is the only terreſtrial being formed to know his Maker, and to worſhip him, will it not ſound harſhly, while all other animals are ſubjected to divine government, and unerringly fulfil their deſtination, that man alone ſhould be withdrawn from divine government, and be ſo framed, that neither his Maker, nor he himſelf, can foreſee what he will do the next moment? The power of reſiſting the ſtrongeſt motives, whether of religion or of morality, would render him independent of the Deity.

This reaſoning is too diffuſe: may it not be comprehended in a ſingle view? it will make the deeper impreſſion. There may be conceived different ſyſtems for governing man as a thinking and rational being. One is, That virtuous motives ſhould always prevail over every other motive. This, in appearance, would be the moſt perfect government. But man is not ſo conſtituted: and there is reaſon to doubt, whether ſuch perfection would in his preſent ſtate correſpond to the other branches of his naturea. Another [69] ſyſtem is, That virtuous motives ſometimes prevail, ſometimes vicious; and that we are always determined by the prevailing motive. This is the true ſyſtem of nature; and hence great variety of character and of conduct among men. A third ſyſtem is, That motives have influence; but that one can act in contradiction to every motive. This is the ſyſtem I have been combating. Obſerve only what it reſolves into. How is an action to be accounted for that is done in contradiction to every motive? It wanders from the region of common ſenſe into that of mere chance. If ſuch were the nature of man, no one could rely on another: a promiſe or an oath would be a rope of ſand: the utmoſt cordiality between my friend and me, would be no ſecurity againſt his ſtabbing me with the firſt weapon that comes in his way. Would any man wiſh to have been formed according to ſuch a ſyſtem? He would probably wiſh to have been formed according to the ſyſtem firſt mentioned: but that is denied him, virtuous motives ſometimes prevailing, ſometimes vicious; and from the wiſdom of Providence we have reaſon to believe, that this law is of all the beſt fitted for man in his preſent ſtate.

To conclude this branch of the ſubject: In none of the works of Providence, ſo far as we can penetrate, is there diſplayed a deeper reach of art and wiſdom, than in the laws of action peculiar to man as a thinking and rational being. Were he left looſe, to act in contradiction to motives, there would be no place for prudence, foreſight, nor for adjuſting means to an end: it could not be foreſeen by others what a man will do the next hour; nay it could not be foreſeen, even by himſelf. Man would not be capable of rewards and puniſhments: he would not be fitted, [70] either for divine or for human government: he would be a creature that has no reſemblance to the human race. But man is not left looſe; for though he is at liberty to act according to his own will, yet his will is regulated by deſire, and deſire by what pleaſes and diſpleaſes. This connection preſerves uniformity of conduct, and confines human actions within the great chain of cauſes and effects. By this admirable ſyſtem, liberty and neceſſity, ſeemingly incompatible, are made perfectly concordant, fitting us for ſociety, and for government both human and divine.

Having explained the laws that govern human actions, we proceed to what is chiefly intended in the preſent ſection, which is, to examine, how far the moral ſentiments handled in the foregoing ſections are conſiſtent with theſe laws. Let it be kept in view, that our moral ſentiments and feelings are founded entirely upon the moral ſenſe; which unfolds to us a right and a wrong in actions. From the ſame ſenſe are derived the ſentiments of approbation and praiſe when a man does right, and of diſapprobation and blame when he does wrong. Were we deſtitute of the moral ſenſe, right and wrong, praiſe and blame, would be as little underſtood as colours are by one born blind*.

[71] The formidable argument that is urged, to prove that our moral ſentiments are inconſiſtent with the ſuppoſed neceſſary influence of motives, is what follows. ‘"If motives have a neceſſary influence on our actions, there can be no good reaſon to praiſe a man for doing right, nor to blame him for doing wrong. What foundation can there be, either for praiſe or blame, when it was not in a man's power to have acted otherwiſe? A man commits murder inſtigated by a ſudden fit of revenge: why ſhould he be puniſhed, if he acted neceſſarily, and could not reſiſt the violence of the paſſion?"’ Here it is ſuppoſed, that a power of reſiſtance is eſſential to praiſe and blame. But upon examination it will be found, that this ſuppoſition has not any ſupport in the moral ſenſe, nor in reaſon, nor in the common ſenſe of mankind.

With reſpect to the firſt, the moral ſenſe, as we have ſeen above, places innocence and guilt, and conſequentty praiſe and blame, entirely upon will and intention. The connection between the motive and the action, ſo far from diminiſhing, enhances the praiſe or blame. The greater influence a virtuous motive has, the greater is the virtue of the agent, and the more warm our praiſe. On the other hand, the greater influence a vicious motive has, the greater is the vice of the agent, and the more violently do we blame him. As this is the cardinal point, I wiſh to have it conſidered in a general view. It is eſſential [72] both to human and divine government, that the influence of motives ſhould be neceſſary. It is equally eſſential, that that neceſſary influence ſhould not have the effect to leſſen guilt in the eſtimation of men. To fulfil both ends, guilt is placed by the moral ſenſe entirely upon will and intention: a man accordingly blames himſelf for doing miſchief willingly and intentionally, without once conſidering whether he acted neceſſarily or not. And his ſentiments are adopted by all the world: they pronounce the ſame ſentence of condemnation that he himſelf does. A man put to the torture, yields to the pain, and with bitter reluctance reveals the ſecrets of his party: another does the ſame, yielding to a tempting bribe. The latter only is blamed as guilty of a crime; and yet the bribe perhaps operated as ſtrongly on the latter, as torture did on the former. But the one was compelled againſt his will to reveal the ſecrets of his party; and therefore is innocent: the other acted willingly, in order to procure a great ſum of money; and therefore is guilty.

With reſpect to reaſon, I obſerve, that the argument I am combating is an appeal to a wrong tribunal: the moral ſenſe is the only judge in this controverſy, not the faculty of reaſon. At the ſame time, I ſhould have no fear of a ſentence againſt me, were reaſon to be the judge. For would not reaſon dictate, that the leſs a man wavers about his duty; or, in other words, the leſs influence vicious motives have, the more praiſe-worthy he is; and the more blameable, the leſs influence virtuous motives have?

Nor are we led by common ſenſe to differ from reaſon and the moral ſenſe. A man commits murder, overcome by a ſudden fit of revenge which he could not reſiſt; will not one be led to [73] reflect, even at firſt view, that the man did not wiſh to reſiſt? on the contrary, that he would have committed the murder, though he had not been under any neceſſity? A perſon of plain underſtanding will ſay, What ſignifies it whether the criminal could reſiſt or not, when he committed the murder wittingly and willingly? A man gives poiſon privately out of revenge. Does any one doubt of his guilt, when he never once repented; though after adminiſtering the poiſon it no longer was in his power to draw back? A man may be guilty and blame-worthy, even where there is external compulſion that he cannot reſiſt. With ſword in hand I run to attack an enemy: my foot ſlipping, I fall headlong upon him, and by that accident the ſword is puſhed into his body. The external act was not the effect of Will, but of accident: but my intention was to commit murder, and I am guilty. All men acknowledge, that the Deity is neceſſarily good. Does that circumſtance detract from his praiſe in common apprehenſion? On the contrary, he merits from us the higheſt praiſe on that very account.

It is commonly ſaid, that there can be no virtue where there is no ſtruggle. Virtue, it is true, is beſt known from a ſtruggle: a man who has never met with a temptation, can be little confident of his virtue. But the obſervation taken in a ſtrict ſenſe, is undoubtedly erroneous. A man, tempted to betray his truſt, wavers; but, after much doubting, refuſes at laſt the bribe. Another heſitates not a moment, but rejects the bribe with diſdain: duty is obſtinate, and will not ſuffer him even to deliberate. Is there no virtue in the latter? Undoubtedly more than in the former.

[74] Upon the whole, it appears that praiſe and blame reſt ultimately upon the diſpoſition or frame of mind. Nor is it obvious, that a power to act againſt motives, could vary in any degree theſe moral ſentiments. When a man commits a crime, let it be ſuppoſed, that he could have reſiſted the prevailing motive. Why then did he not reſiſt, inſtead of bringing upon himſelf ſhame and miſery? The anſwer muſt be, for no other can be given, that his diſpoſition is vicious, and that he is a deteſtable creature. Further, it is not a little difficult to conceive, how a man can reſiſt a prevailing motive, without having any thing in his mind that ſhould engage him to reſiſt it. But letting that paſs, I make the following ſuppoſition. A man is tempted by avarice to accept a bribe: if he reſiſt upon the principle of duty, he is led by the prevailing motive: if he reſiſt without having any reaſon or motive for reſiſting, I cannot diſcover any merit in ſuch reſiſtance: it ſeems to reſolve into a matter of chance or accident, whether he reſiſt or do not reſiſt. Where can the merit lie of reſiſting a vicious motive, when reſiſtance happens by mere chance? and where the demerit of reſiſting a virtuous motive, when it is owing to the ſame chance? If a man, actuated by no principle, good or bad, and having no end or purpoſe in view, ſhould kill his neighbour, I ſee not that he would be more accountable, than if he had acted in his ſleep, or were mad.

Human puniſhments are perfectly conſiſtent with the neceſſary influence of motives, without ſuppoſing a power to withſtand them. If it be urged, That a man ought not to be puniſhed for committing a crime when he could not reſiſt; the anſwer is, That as he committed the crime intentionally, and with his eyes open, he is guilty in [75] his own opinion, and in the opinion of all men; and he juſtly ſuffers puniſhment, to prevent him or others from doing the like in time to come. The dread of puniſhment is a weight in the ſcale on the ſide of virtue, to counterbalance vicious motives.

The final cauſe of this branch of our nature is admirable. If the neceſſary influence of motives had the effect either to leſſen the merit of a virtuous action, or the demerit of a crime, morality would be totally unhinged. The moſt virtuous action would of all be the leaſt worthy of praiſe; and the moſt vicious be of all the leaſt worthy of blame. Nor would the evil ſtop there: inſtead of curbing inordinate paſſions, we ſhould be encouraged to indulge them, as an excellent excuſe for doing wrong. Thus, the moral ſentiments of approbation and diſapprobation, of praiſe and blame, are found perfectly conſiſtent with the laws above mentioned that govern human actions, without having recourſe to an imaginary power of acting againſt motives.

The only plauſible objection I have met with againſt the foregoing theory, is the remorſe a man feels for a crime he ſuddenly commits, and as ſuddenly repents of. During a fit of bitter remorſe for having ſlain my favourite ſervant in a violent paſſion, without juſt provocation, I accuſe myſelf for having given way to paſſion; and acknowledge that I could and ought to have reſtrained it. Here we find remorſe founded on a ſyſtem directly oppoſite to that above laid down; a ſyſtem that acknowledges no neceſſary connection between an action and the motive that produced it; but, on the contrary, ſuppoſes that it is in a man's power to reſiſt his paſſion, and that he ought to reſiſt it. What ſhall be ſaid upon this point? Can a man be a neceſſary agent, when he [76] is conſcious of the contrary, and is ſenſible that he can act in contradiction to motives? This objection is ſtrong in appearance; and would be invincible, were we not happily relieved of it by a doctrine laid down in Elements of Criticiſma concerning the irregular influence of paſſion on our opinions and ſentiments. Upon examination, it will be found, that the preſent caſe may be added to the many examples there given of this irregular influence. In a peeviſh fit, I take exception at ſome ſlight word or geſture of my friend, which I interpret as if he doubted of my veracity. I am inſtantly in a flame: in vain he proteſts that he had no meaning, for impatience will not ſuffer me to liſten. I bid him draw, which he does with reluctance; and before he is well prepared, I give him a mortal wound. Bitter remorſe and anguiſh ſucceed inſtantly to rage. ‘"What have I done? why did I not abſtain? I was not mad, and yet I have murdered my innocent friend: there is the hand that did the horrid deed; why did not I rather turn it againſt my own heart?"’ Here every impreſſion of neceſſity vaniſhes: my mind tells me that I was abſolutely free, and that I ought to have ſmothered my paſſion. I put an oppoſite caſe. A brutal fellow [...]eats me with great indignity, and proceeds even to a blow. My paſſion riſes beyond the poſſibility of reſtraint: I can ſcarce forbear ſo long as to bid him draw; and that moment I ſtab him to the heart. I am ſorry for having been engaged with a ruffian, but have no contrition nor remorſe. In this caſe, my ſentiments are very different from what they are in the other. I never [77] once dream that I could have reſiſted the impulſe of paſſion: on the contrary, my thoughts and words are, ‘"That fleſh and blood could not bear the affront; and that I muſt have been branded for a coward, had I not done what I did."’ In reality, both the actions were equally neceſſary. Whence then opinions and ſentiments ſo oppoſite to each other? The irregular influence of paſſion on our opinions and ſentiments, will ſolve the queſtion. All violent paſſions are prone to their own gratification. A man affected with deep remorſe abhors himſelf, and is odious in his own eyes; and it gratifies the paſſion, to indulge the thought that his guilt is beyond the poſſibility of excuſe. In the firſt caſe accordingly, remorſe forces upon me a conviction that I might have reſtrained my paſſion, and ought to have reſtrained it. I will not give way to any excuſe; becauſe in a fit of remorſe it gives me pain to be excuſed. In the other caſe, there being no remorſe, there is no diſguiſe; and things appear in their true light. To illuſtrate this reaſoning, I obſerve, that paſſion warps my judgment of the actions of others, as well as of my own. Many examples are given in the chapter above quoted: join to theſe the following. My ſervant aiming at a partridge, happens to ſhoot a favourite ſpaniel croſſing the way unſeen. Inflamed with anger, I ſtorm at his raſhneſs, pronounce him guilty, and will liſten to no excuſe. When my paſſion is ſpent, I become ſenſible that it was merely accidental, and that the man is abſolutely innocent. The nurſe overlays my only child, the long-expected heir to a great eſtate. It is with difficulty that I refrain from putting her to death: ‘"The wretch has murdered my infant, and deſerves to be torn to pieces."’ [78] When my paſſion ſubſides, I ſee the matter in a very different light. The poor woman is inconſolable, and can ſcarce believe that ſhe is innocent: ſhe bitterly reproaches herſelf for want of care and concern. But, upon cool reflection, both ſhe and I are ſenſible, that no perſon in ſound ſleep has any ſelf-command; and that we cannot be anſwerable for any action of which we are not conſcious. Thus, upon the whole, we find, that any impreſſion we may occaſionally have of being able to act in contradiction to motives, is the reſult of paſſion, not of ſound judgment.

The reader will obſerve, that this ſection is copied from Eſſays on Morality and Natural Religion. The ground-work is the ſame: the alterations are only in the ſuperſtructure; and the ſubject is abridged in order to adapt it to its preſent place. Part of the abridgment was publiſhed in the ſecond edition of the Principles of Equity. But as law-books have little currency, the publiſhing the whole in one eſſay, will not, I hope, be thought improper.

APPENDIX.
Upon CHANCE and CONTINGENCY,
[79]

I HOLD it to be an intuitive propoſition, That the Deity is the primary cauſe of all things; that with conſummate wiſdom he formed the great plan of government, which he carries on by laws ſuited to the different natures of animate and inanimate beings; and that theſe laws, produce a regular chain of cauſes and effects in the moral as well as the material world, admitting no events but what are comprehended in the original plana. Hence it clearly follows, that chance is excluded out of this world, that nothing can happen by accident, and that no event is arbitrary or contingent. This is the doctrine of the eſſay quoted; and, in my apprehenſion, well founded. But I cannot ſubſcribe to what follows, viz. ‘"That we have an impreſſion of chance and contingency, which conſequently muſt be deluſive."’ I would not willingly admit any deluſion in the nature of man, where it is not made [80] evident beyond contradiction; and I now ſee clearly, that the impreſſion we have of chance and contingency, is not deluſive, but perfectly conſiſtent with the eſtabliſhed plan.

The explanation of chance and contingency in the ſaid eſſay, ſhall be given in the author's own words, as a proper text to reaſon upon. ‘"In our ordinary train of thinking, it is certain that all events appear not to us as neceſſary. A multitude of events ſeem to be under our power to cauſe or to prevent; and we readily make a diſtinction betwixt events that are neceſſary, i. e. that muſt be; and events that are contingent, i. e. that may be, or may not be. This diſtinction is void of truth: for all things that fall out either in the material or moral world, are, as we have ſeen, alike neceſſary, and alike the reſult of fixed laws. Yet, whatever conviction a philoſopher may have of this, the diſtinction betwixt things neceſſary and things contingent, poſſeſſes his common train of thought, as much as it poſſeſſes the moſt illiterate. We act univerſally upon that diſtinction: nay it is in truth the cauſe of all the labour, care, and induſtry, of mankind. I illuſtrate this doctrine by an example. Conſtant experience hath taught us, that death is a neceſſary event. The human frame is not made to laſt for ever in its preſent condition; and no man thinks of more than a temporary exiſtence upon this globe. But the particular time of our death appears a contingent event. However certain it be, that the time and manner of the death of each individual is determined by a train of preceding cauſes, and is no leſs fixed than the hour of the ſun's riſing or ſetting; yet no perſon is affected by this doctrine. In the care [81] of prolonging life, we are directed by the ſuppoſed contingency of the time of death, which, to a certain term of years, we conſider as depending in a great meaſure on ourſelves, by caution againſt accidents, due uſe of food, exerciſe, &c. Theſe means are proſecuted with the ſame diligence as if there were in fact no neceſſary train of cauſes to fix the period of life. In ſhort, whoever attends to his own practical ideas, whoever reflects upon the meaning of the following words which occur in all languages, of things poſſible, contingent, that are in our power to cauſe or prevent; whoever, I ſay, reflects upon theſe words, will clearly ſee, that they ſuggeſt certain perceptions or notions repugnant to the doctrine above eſtabliſhed of univerſal neceſſity."’

In order to ſhow that there is no repugnance, I begin with defining chance and contingency. The former is applied to events that have happened; the latter to future events. When we ſay a thing has happened by chance, we do not mean that chance was the cauſe; for no perſon ever thought that chance is a thing that can act, and by acting produce events: we only mean, that we are ignorant of the cauſe, and that, for aught we ſee, it might have happened or not happened, or have happened differently. Aiming at a bird, I ſhoot by chance a favourite ſpaniel: the meaning is not, that chance killed the dog, but that as to me the dog's death was accidental. With reſpect to contingency, future events that are variable, and the cauſe unknown, are ſaid to be contingent; changes of the weather, for example, whether it will be froſt or thaw to-morrow, whether fair or foul. In a word, chance and contingency applied to events mean not that ſuch events happen without any [82] cauſe, but only that we are ignorant of the cauſe.

It appears to me clear, that there is no ſuch thing in human nature as a ſenſe of contingency; or, in other words, a ſenſe that any thing happens without a cauſe: ſuch a ſenſe would be groſsly deluſive. True it is indeed, that our ſenſe of a cauſe is but cloudy and indiſtinct with reſpect to certain events. Events that happen regularly, ſuch as ſummer and winter, riſing and ſetting of the ſun, give us a diſtinct impreſſion of a cauſe. The impreſſion is leſs diſtinct with reſpect to events leſs regular, ſuch as alterations of the weather: and extremely indiſtinct with reſpect to events that ſeldom happen, and that happen without any known cauſe. But with reſpect to no event whatever does our ſenſe of a cauſe vaniſh altogether, and give place to a poſitive ſenſe of contingency, that is, a ſenſe of things happening without a cauſe.

Chance and contingency thus explained, ſuggeſt not any perception or notion repugnant to the doctrine of univerſal neceſſity; for my ignorance of a cauſe, does not, even in my own apprehenſion, exclude a cauſe. Deſcending to particulars, I take the example mentioned in the text, viz. the uncertainty of the time of my death. Knowing that my life depends in ſome meaſure on myſelf, I uſe all means to preſerve it, by proper food, exerciſe, and care to prevent accidents. Nor is there any deluſion here. I am moved to uſe theſe means by the deſire I have to live: theſe means accordingly prove effectual to carry on my preſent exiſtence to the oppointed period; and in that view are ſo many links in the great chain of cauſes and effects. A burning coal falling from the grate upon the floor, wakes me from a ſound ſleep. I ſtart up to extinguiſh the fire. [83] The motive is irreſiſtible: nor have I reaſon to reſiſt, were it in my power; for I conſider the extinction of the fire by my hand to be one of the means choſen by Providence for prolonging my life to its deſtined period.

Were there a chain of cauſes and effects eſtabliſhed entirely independent on me, and were my life in no meaſure under my own power, it would indeed be fruitleſs for me to act; and the abſurdity of knowingly acting in vain, would be a prevailing motive for remaining at reſt. Upon that ſuppoſition, the ignavia ratio of Chryſippus might take place; cui ſi pareamus, nihil omnino agamus in vita *. But I act neceſſarily when influenced by motives; and I have no reaſon to forbear, conſidering that my actions, by producing their intended effects, contribute to carry on the univerſal chain.

PART II.
PROGRESS of MORALITY.

[84]

HAVING unfolded the principles of morality, the next ſtep is to trace out its gradual progreſs from its infancy among ſavages, to its maturity among poliſhed nations. The hiſtory of opinions concerning the foundation of morality, falls not within my plan; and I am glad to be relieved from an article that is executed in perfection by more able handsa.

An animal is brought forth with every one of its external members; and completes its growth, not by production of any new member, but by addition of matter to thoſe originally formed. The ſame holds with reſpect to internal members; the ſenſes, for example, inſtincts, powers and faculties, principles and propenſities: theſe are coeval with the individual, and are gradually unfolded, ſome early, ſome late. The external ſenſes, being neceſſary for ſelf-preſervation, ſoon arrive at maturity. Some internal ſenſes, of order for inſtance, of propriety, of dignity, being [85] of no uſe during infancy, are not only ſlow in their progreſs toward maturity, but require much culture. Among ſavages they are ſcarce perceptible.

The moral ſenſe, in its progreſs, differs from thoſe laſt mentioned: it is frequently diſcovered, even in childhood. It is however ſlow of growth, and ſeldom arrives at perfection without culture and experience.

The moral ſenſe not only ripens gradually with the other internal ſenſes mentioned, but from them acquires force and additional authority: a ſavage makes no difficulty to kill an enemy in cold blood: bloody ſcenes are familiar to him, and his moral ſenſe is not ſufficiently vigorous to give him compunction. The action appears in a different light to a perſon who has more delicacy of feeling; and accordingly the moral ſenſe has much more authority over thoſe who have received a refined education, than over ſavages.

It is pleaſant to trace the progreſs of morality in members of a poliſhed nation. Objects of external ſenſe make the firſt impreſſions; and from them are derived a ſtock of ſimple ideas. Affection, accompanying ideas, is firſt directed to particular objects, ſuch as my brother, my wiſe, my friend. The mind opening by degrees, takes in complex objects, ſuch as my country, my religion, the government under which I live; and theſe alſo become objects of affection. Our connections multiply, and the moral ſenſe gaining ſtrength as the mind opens, regulates our duty to each of them. Objects of hatred multiply, as well as objects of affection, and give full ſcope to diſſocial paſſions, the moſt formidable antagoniſts that morality has to encounter. But nature hath provided a remedy: the perſon who indulges malice or revenge, is commonly the [86] greateſt ſufferer by the indulgence: men become wiſe by experience, and have more peace and ſatisfaction in foſtering kindly affection: ſtormy paſſions are ſubdued, or brought under rigid diſcipline; and benevolence triumphs over ſelfiſhneſs. We refine upon the pleaſures of ſociety: we learn to ſubmit our opinions: we affect to give preference to others; and readily fall in with whatever ſweetens ſocial intercourſe: we carefully avoid cauſes of diſcord; and overlooking trifling offences, we are ſatisfied with moderate reparation, even for groſs injuries.

A nation from its original ſavage ſtate, grows to maturity like the individuals above deſcribed; and the progreſs of morality is the ſame in both. The ſavage ſtate is the infancy of a nation, during which the moral ſenſe is feeble, yielding to cuſtom, to imitation, to paſſion. But a nation, like a member of a poliſhed ſociety, ripens gradually, and acquires a taſte in the fine arts, with acuteneſs of ſenſe in matters of right and wrong. Hatred and revenge, the great obſtacles to moral duty, raged without control, while the privilege of avenging wrongs was permitted to individualsa. But hatred and revenge yielding gradually to the pleaſures of ſociety, and to the growing authority of the moral ſenſe; and benevolent affections prevailed over diſſocial paſſions. In that comfortable period, we hear no more of cruelty as a national character: on the contrary, the averſion we have to an enemy, is even in war exerciſed with moderation. Nor do the ſtormy paſſions ever again revive; for after a nation begins to decline from its meridian height, the paſſions [87] that prevail are not of the violent kind, but ſelfiſh, timorous, and deceitful.

Morality however has not to this day arrived to ſuch maturity as to operate between nations with equal ſteadineſs and vigour as between individuals. Ought this to be regretted as an imperfection in our nature? I think not: had we the ſame compunction of heart for injuring a nation as for injuring an individual, and were injuſtice equally blameable as to both, war would ceaſe, and a golden age enſue; than which a greater misfortune could not befal the human racea.

In the progreſs from maturity to a declining ſtate, a nation differs widely from an individual. Old age puts an end to the latter: there are many cauſes that weaken the former; but old age is none of them, if it be not in a metaphorical ſenſe. Riches, ſelfiſhneſs, and luxury, are the diſeaſes that weaken proſperous nations: theſe diſeaſes, following each other in a train, corrupt the heart, dethrone the moral ſenſe, and make an anarchy in the ſoul: men ſtick at no expence to purchaſe pleaſure; and they ſtick at no vice to ſupply that expence.

Such are the outlines of morality in its progreſs from birth to burial; and theſe outlines I propoſe to fill up with an induction of particulars. Looking back to the commencement of civil ſociety, when no wants were known but thoſe of nature, and when ſuch wants were amply provided for; we find individuals of the ſame tribe living innocently and cordially together: they had no irregular appetites, nor any ground of ſtrife. [88] In that ſtate, moral principles joined their influence with that of national affection, to ſecure individuals from harm. Savages accordingly, who have plenty of food, and are ſimple in habitation and clothing, ſeldom tranſgreſs the rules of morality within their own tribe. Diodorus Siculus, who compoſed his hiſtory recently after Caeſar's expedition into Britain, ſays, that the inhabitants dwelt in mean Cottages covered with reeds or ſticks; that they were of much ſincerity and integrity, contented with plain and homely fare; and were ſtrangers to the exceſs and luxury of rich men. In Friezeland, in Holland, and in other maritime provinces of the Netherlands, locks and keys were unknown, till the inhabitants became rich by commerce: they contented themſelves with bare neceſſaries, which every one had in plenty. The Laplanders have no notion of theft. When they make an excurſion into Norway, which is performed in the ſummer months, they leave their huts open, without fear that any thing will be purloined. Formerly, they were entirely upright in their only commerce, that of bartering the ſkins of wild beaſts for tobacco, brandy, and coarſe cloth. But being often cheated by ſtrangers, they begin to more cunning. Crantz, deſcribing the inhabitants of Iceland before they were corrupted by commerce with ſtrangers, ſays, that they lived under the ſame roof with their cattle; that every thing was common among them except their wives and children; and that they were ſimple in their manners, having no appetite but for what nature requires. In the reign of Edwin King of Northumberland, a child, as hiſtorians report, might have travelled with a purſe of gold, without hazard of robbery: in our days of luxury, want is ſo intolerable, that even fear of death is [89] not ſufficient to deter us. All travellers agree, that the native Canadians are perfectly diſintereſted, abhorring deceit and lying. The Californians are fond of iron and ſharp inſtruments; and yet are ſo ſtrictly honeſt, that carpenter-tools left open during night, were ſafe. The ſavages of North America had no locks for their goods: they probably have learned from Europeans, to be more circumſpect. Procopius bears teſtimonya, that the Sclavi, like the Huns, were innocent people, free of all malice. Plan Carpin, the Pope's ambaſſador to the Cham of Tartary, ann. 1246, ſays, that the Tartars are not addicted to thieving; and that they leave their goods open without a lock. Nicholas Damaſcenus reports the ſame of the Celtae. The original inhabitants of the iſland Borneo, expelled by the Mahometans from the ſea-coaſt to the center of the country, are honeſt, induſtrious, and kindly to each other: they have ſome notion of property, but not ſuch as to render them covetous. Pagans in Siberia are numerous; and, though groſsly ignorant, eſpecially in matters of religion, they are a good moral people. It is rare to hear among them of perjury, thieving, fraud, or drunkenneſs; if we except thoſe who live among the Ruſſian Chriſtians, with whoſe vices they are tainted. Strahlenbergb bears teſtimony to their honeſty. Having employed a number of them in a long navigation, he ſlept in the ſame boat with men whoſe names he knew not, whoſe language he underſtood not, and yet [90] loſt not a particle of his baggage. Being obliged to remain a fortnight among the Oſtiacs, upon the river Oby, his baggage lay open in a hut inhabited by a large family, and yet nothing was purloined. The following incident, which he alſo mentions, is remarkable. A Ruſſian of Tobolſki, in the courſe of a long journey, lodged one night in an Oſtiac's hut, and the next day on the road miſſed his purſe with a hundred rubles. His landlord's ſon, hunting at ſome diſtance from the hut, found the purſe, but left it there. By his father's order, he covered it with branches, to ſecure it in caſe an owner ſhould be found. After three months, the Ruſſian returning, lodged with the ſame Oſtiac; and mentioning occaſionally the loſs of his purſe, the Oſtiac, who at firſt did not recollect his face, cried out with joy, ‘"Art thou the man who loſt that purſe? my ſon ſhall go and ſhew thee where it lies, that thou mayeſt take it up with thine own hand."’ The Hottentotsa have not the leaſt notion of theft: tho' immoderately fond of tobacco and brandy, they are employed by the Dutch for tending warehouſes full of theſe commodities. Here is an inſtance of probity above temptation, even among ſavages in the firſt ſtage of ſocial life. Some individuals are more liberally endued than others with virtuous principles: may it not be thought, that in that reſpect nature has been more kind to the Hottentots than to many other tribes? Spaniards, ſettled on the ſea-coaſt of Chili, carry on a commerce with neighbouring ſavages, for bridles, ſpurs, knives, and other manufactures of [91] iron; and in return receive oxen, horſes, and even children for ſlaves. A Spaniard carries his goods there; and after obtaining liberty to diſpoſe of them, he moves about, and delivers his goods, without the leaſt reſerve, to every one who bargains with him. When all is ſold, he intimates his departure; and every purchaſer hurries with his goods to him; and it is not known that any one Indian ever broke his engagement. They give him a guard to carry him ſafe out of their territory, with all the ſlaves, horſes, and cattle he has purchaſed. The ſavages of Brazil are faithful to their promiſes, and to the treaties they make with the Portugueſe. Upon ſome occaſions, they may be accuſed of error and wrong judgment, but never of injuſtice nor of duplicity.

While the earth was thinly peopled, plenty of food, procured by hunting and fiſhing, promoted population; but as population leſſens the ſtock of animal food, a ſavage nation, encreaſing in numbers, muſt ſpread wider and wider for more game. Thus tribes, at firſt widely ſeparate from each other, approach gradually till they become neighbours. Hence a new ſcene with reſpect to morality. Differences about their hunting fields, about their game, about perſonal injuries, multiply between neighbours; and every quarrel is blown into a flame, by the averſion men naturally have to ſtrangers. Anger, hatred, and revenge, find now vent, which formerly lay latent without an object: diſſocial paſſions prevail without control, becauſe among ſavages morality is no match for them; and cruelty becomes predominant in the human race. Ancient hiſtory accordingly is full of enormous cruelties; witneſs the incurſions of the northern barbarians into the Roman empire; and witneſs the incurſions [92] of Genhizcan and Tamerlane into the fertile countries of Aſia, ſpreading deſtruction with fire and ſword, and ſparing neither man, woman, nor infant.

Malevolent paſſions daily exerciſed againſt perſons of a different tribe, acquiring ſtrength by exerciſe, came to be vented againſt perſons even of the ſame tribe; and the privilege long enjoyed by individuals, of avenging the wrongs done to them, beſtowed irreſiſtible force upon ſuch paſſionsa. The hiſtory of ancient Greece preſents nothing to the reader but uſurpations, aſſaſſinations, and other horrid crimes. The names of many famous for wickedneſs, are ſtill preſerved; Atreus, for example, Eteocles, Alcmeon, Phedra, Clytemneſtra. The ſtory of Pelops and his deſcendants, is a chain of criminal horrors: during that period, parricide and inceſt were ordinary incidents. Euripides repreſents Medea vowing revenge againſt her huſband Jaſon, and laying a plot to poiſon him. Of that infamous plot the chorus expreſs their approbation, juſtifying every woman who, in like circumſtances, acts the ſame part.

The frequent incurſions of northern barbarians into the Roman empire, ſpread deſolation and ruin through the whole. The Romans, from the higheſt poliſh degenerating into ſavages, aſſumed by degrees the cruel and bloody manners of their conquerors; and the conquerors and conquered, blended into one maſs, equalled the groſſeſt barbarians of ancient times in ignorance and brutality. Clovis, King of the Franks, even after his converſion to Chriſtianity, aſſaſſinated without remorſe his neareſt kinſman. The children of [93] Clodomir, ann. 530, were aſſaſſinated by their two uncles. In the thirteenth centuary, Ezzelino de Aromano obtained the ſovereignty of Padua, by maſſacring 12,000 of his fellow-citizens. Galeas Sforza, Duke of Milan, was aſſaſſinated ann. 1476 in the cathedral church of Milan, after the aſſaſſins had put up their prayers for courage to perpetrate the deed. It is a ſtill ſtronger proof how low morality was in thoſe days, that the Pope himſelf, Sextus IV. attempted to aſſaſſinate the two brothers, Laurent and Julien de Medicis; chuſing the elevation of the hoſt as a proper time, when the people would be buſy about their devotions. Nay more, that very Pope, with unparalleled impudence, excommunicated the Florentines for doing juſtice upon the intended aſſaſſins. The moſt ſacred oaths were in vain employed as a ſecurity againſt that horrid crime. Childebert II. King of the Franks, enticed Magnovald to his court, by a ſolemn oath that he ſhould receive no harm: and yet made no difficulty to aſſaſſinate him during the gaiety of a banquet. But theſe inſtances, however horrid, make no figure compared with the maſſacre of St Bartholomew, where many thouſands were inhumanly and treacherouſly butchered. Even ſo late as the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, aſſaſſination was not held in every caſe to be criminal. Many ſolicitous applications were made to general councils of Chriſtian clergy, to declare it criminal in every caſe; but without ſucceſs. Ferdinand King of Aragon and Navarre, after repeated aſſaſſinations and acts of perfidy, obtained the appellation of Great: ſo little authority had the moral ſenſe during thoſe dark ages.

But it is ſcarce neceſſary to mention particular inſtances of the overbearing power of malevolent paſſions during ſuch ages. An opinion, formerly [94] univerſal, that the innocent may be juſtly involved in the ſame puniſhment with the guilty, is of itſelf irrefragable evidence, that morality once had very little influence when oppoſed by revenge. There is no moral principle more evident, than that puniſhment cannot be inflicted with juſtice but upon the guilty; and yet in Greece, the involving of the innocent with the guilty in the ſame puniſhment, was authoriſed even by poſitive law. By an Athenian law, a man committing ſacrilege, or betraying his country, was baniſhed with all his childrena. And when a tyrant was put to death, his children ſuffered the ſame fateb. The puniſhment of treaſon in Macedon, was extended againſt the criminal's relationsc. Hanno, a citizen of Carthage, formed a plot to enſlave his country, by poiſoning the whole ſenate at a banquet. He was tortured to death; and his children, with all his relations, were cut off without mercy, though they had no acceſſion to his guilt. Among the Japanneſe, a people remarkably ferocious, it is the practice to involve children and relations in the puniſhment of capital crimes. Even Cicero, the chief man for learning in the moſt enlightened period of the Roman republic, and a celebrated moraliſt, approves that practice: ‘"Nec vero me fugit, quam ſit acerbum parentum ſcelera filiorum poenis lui: ſed hoc praeclare legibus comparatum eſt, ut caritas liberorum amiciores [95] parentes reipublicae redderet* a."’ In Britain, every one knows, that murder was retaliated, not only againſt the criminal and his relations, but againſt his whole clan; a practice ſo common as to be diſtinguiſhed by a peculiar name, that of deadly feud. As late as the days of King Edmund, a law was made in England, prohibiting deadly feud, except between the relations of the perſon murdered and the murderer himſelf.

I embrace the preſent opportunity to honour the Jews, by obſerving, that they were the firſt people we read of, who had correct notions of morality with reſpect to the preſent point. The following law is expreſs: ‘"The fathers ſhall not be put to death for the children, neither ſhall the children be put to death for the fathers: every man ſhall be put to death for his own ſinb."’ Amaziah, King of Judah, gave ſtrict obedience to that law, in avenging his father's death: ‘"And it came to paſs as ſoon as the kingdom was confirmed in his hand, that he ſlew his ſervants which had ſlain the king his father. But the children of the murderers he ſlew not; according to that which is written in the book of the law of Moſesa."’ [96] There is an elegant paſſage in Ezekiel to the ſame purpoſeb: ‘"What mean ye, that ye uſe this proverb concerning the land of Iſrael, ſaying, The fathers have eaten four grapes, and the childrens teeth are ſet on edge? As I live, ſaith the Lord God, ye ſhall not have occaſion any more to uſe this proverb in Iſrael. The ſoul that ſinneth, it ſhall die: the ſon ſhall not bear the iniquity of the father, neither ſhall the father bear the iniquity of the ſon; the righteouſneſs of the righteous ſhall be upon him, and the wickedneſs of the wicked ſhall be upon him."’ Among the Jews however, as among other nations, there are inſtances without number, of involving innocent children and relations in the ſame puniſhments with the guilty. Such power has revenge, as to trample upon conſcience, and upon the moſt expreſs laws. Inſtigated with rage for Nabal's ingratitude, King David made a vow to God, not to leave alive of all who pertained to Nabal any that piſſeth againſt the wall. And it was not any compunction of conſcience that diverted him from his cruel purpoſe, but Nabal's beautiful wife, who pacified himc. But ſuch contradiction between principle and practice, is not peculiar to the Jews. We find examples of it in the laws of the Roman empire. The true principle of puniſhment is laid down in an edict of the Emperors [97] Arcadius and Honoriusb. ‘"Sancimus, ibi eſſe poenam, ubi et noxia eſt. Propinquos, notos, familiares, procul a calumnia ſubmovemus, quos reos ſceleris ſocietas non facit. Nec enim adfinitas vel amicitia nefarium crimen admittunt. Peccata igitur ſuos teneant auctores: nec ulterius progrediatur metus quam reperiatur delictum. Hoc ſingulis quibuſque judicibus intimetur.*"’ Theſe very Emperors, with reſpect to treaſon, which touched them nearer than other crimes, talk a very different language. After obſerving, that will and purpoſe alone without an ouvert act, is treaſon, ſubjecting the criminal to capital puniſhment, and to forfeiture of all that belongs to him, they proceed in the following wordsc. ‘"Filii vero ejus, quibus vitam Imperatoria ſpecialiter lenitate concedimus, (paterno enim deberent perire ſupplicio, in quibus paterni, hoc eſt, hereditarii criminis exempla metuuntur), a materna, vel avita, omnium etiam proximorum hereditate ac ſucceſſione, habeantur alieni: teſtamentis extraneorum nihil capiant: ſint perpetuo egentes et pauperes, infamia eos paterna ſemper comitetur, ad nullos prorſus honores, ad nulla ſacramenta [98] perveniant: ſint poſtremo tales, ut his, perpetua egeſtate ſordentibus, ſit et mors ſolatium et vita ſupplicium*."’

Human nature is not ſo perverſe, as without veil or diſguiſe to puniſh a perſon acknowledged to be innocent. An irregular bias of imagination, which extends the qualities of the principal to its acceſſories, paves the way to that unjuſt practicea. That bias, ſtrengthened by indignation againſt an atrocious criminal, leads the mind haſtily to conclude, that all his connections are partakers of his guilt. In an enlightened age, the clearneſs of moral principles fetters the imagination from confounding the innocent with the guilty. There remain traces however of that bias, though not carried ſo far as murder. The ſentence pronounced againſt Ravilliac for aſſaſſinating Henry IV. of France, ordains, ‘"That his houſe be erazed to the ground, and that no other building be ever erected upon that ſpot."’ Was not [99] this in imagination puniſhing a houſe for the proprietor's crime?

Murder and aſſaſſination are not only deſtructive in themſelves, but, if poſſible, ſtill more deſtructive in their conſequences. The practice of ſhedding blood unjuſtly, and often wantonly, blunts conſcience, and paves the way to every crime. This obſervation is verified in the ancient Greeks: their cruel and ſanguinary character, rendered them little regardful of the ſtrict rules of juſtice. Right was held to depend on power, among men as among wild beaſts: it was conceived to be the will of the gods, that ſuperior force ſhould be a lawful title to dominion; ‘"for what right can the weak have to what they cannot defend?"’ Were that maxim to obtain, a weak man would have no right to liberty nor to life. That impious doctrine was avowed by the Athenians, and publicly aſſerted by their ambaſſadors in a conference with the Melians, reported by Thucydidesa. Many perſons act as if force and right were the ſame; but a barefaced profeſſion of ſuch a doctrine, is uncommon. In the Eumenides, a tragedy of Eſchylus, Oreſtes is arraigned in the Areopagus for killing his mother. Minerva, preſident of the court, decrees in favour of Oreſtes: and for what reaſon? ‘"Having no Mother myſelf, the murder of a mother toucheth not me*."’ In the tragedy of Electra, [100] Oreſtes, conſulting the Delphic oracle about means to avenge his father's murder, was enjoined by Apollo to forbear force, but to employ fraud and guile. Obedient to that injunction, Oreſtes commands his tutor to ſpread in Argos the news of his death, and to confirm the ſame with a ſolemn oath. In Homer, even the great Jupiter makes no difficulty to ſend a lying dream to Agamemnon, chief of the Greeks. Diſſimulation is recommended by the goddeſs Minervaa. Ulyſſes delcares his deteſtation at uſing freedom with truthb: and yet no man deals more in feigned ſtoriesc. In the 22d book of the Iliad, Minerva is guilty of groſs deceit and treachery to Hector. When he flies from Achilles, ſhe appears to him in the ſhape of his brother Deiphobus, exhorts him to turn upon Achilles, and promiſes to aſſiſt him. Hector calls upon his brother for another lance; but in vain, for Deiphobus was not there. The Greeks in Homer's time muſt have been ſtrangely deformed in their morals, when ſuch a ſtory [101] could be reliſhed*. A nation begins not to poliſh nor to advance in morality, till writing be common; and writing was not known among the Greeks at the ſiege of Troy. Nor were the morals of that people, as we ſee, much purified for a long time after writing became common. When Plautus wrote, the Roman ſyſtem of morals muſt have been extremely impure. In his play termed Menaechmi, a gentleman of faſhion having accidentally got into his hands a lady's robe with a gold claſp, inſtead of returning them to the owner, endeavours to ſell them without ſhame or remorſe. Such a ſcene would not be ſuffered at preſent, except among pick-pockets. Both the Greeks and Carthaginians were held by the Romans to be artful and cunning. The Romans continued a plain people, with much ſimplicity of manners, when the nations mentioned had made great progreſs in the arts of life; and it is a fad truth, that morality declines in proportion as a nation poliſhes. But if the Romans were later than the Greeks and Carthaginians in the arts of life, they ſoon ſurpaſſed them in every ſort of immorality. For this change of manners they were indebted to their rapid conqueſts. The ſanguinary diſpoſition both of the Greeks and Romans, appears from another practice, that [102] of expoſing their infant children, which continued till humanity came in ſome meaſure to prevail. The practice continues in China to this day, the populouſneſs of the country throwing a veil over the cruelty; but from the humanity of the Chineſe, I conjecture, that the practice will be found rare. The Jews, a cloudy and peeviſh tribe, much addicted to bloodſhed, were miſerably defective in moral principles. Take the following examples out of an endleſs number recorded in the bocks of the old Teſtament. Jael, wife of Heber, took under her protection Siſera general of the Canaanites, and engaged her faith for his ſecurity. She put him treacherouſly to death when aſleep; and was applauded by Deborah the propheteſs for the meritorious actiona. That horrid deed would probably have appeared to her in a different light, had it been committed againſt Barac, general of the Iſraelites. David, flying from Saul, took refuge with Achiſh, King of Gath; and though protected by that King, made war againſt the King's allies, ſaying, that it was againſt his own countrymen of Judah. ‘"And David ſaved neither man nor woman alive to bring tidings to Gath. And Achiſh believed David, ſaying, He hath made his people Iſrael utterly to abhor him: therefore he ſhall be my ſervant for everb."’ This was a complication of ingratitude, lying, and treachery. Ziba, by preſents to king David, and by defaming his maſter Mephiboſheth, procured from the king a gift of his maſter's inheritance; [103] though Mephiboſheth had neither trimmed his beard, nor waſhed his cloaths, from the day the king departed till he returned in peace. ‘"And it came to paſs, when Mephiboſheth was come to Jeruſalem to meet the king, that the king ſaid unto him, Wherefore wenteſt thou not with me, Mephiboſheth? And he anſwered, My lord, O king, my ſervant deceived me; for thy ſervant ſaid, I will ſaddle me an aſs, that I may ride thereon, and go to the king; becauſe thy ſervant is lame, and he hath ſlandered thy ſervant unto my lord the king. But my lord the king is an angel of God: do therefore what is good in thine eyes. For all my father's houſe were but dead men before my lord the king: yet didſt thou ſet thy ſervant among them that did eat at thine own table: what right therefore have I to cry any more unto the king?"’ David could not poſſibly atone for his raſhneſs, but by reſtoring to Mephiboſheth his inheritance, and puniſhing Ziba in an exemplary manner. But hear the ſentence: ‘"And the king ſaid unto him, Why ſpeakeſt thou any more of thy matters? I have ſaid, Thou and Ziba divide the landa."’ The ſame king, after pardoning Shimei for curſing him, and ſwearing that he ſhould not die; yet upon his death-bed enjoined his ſon Solomon to put Shimei to death: ‘"Now therefore hold him not guiltleſs; but his hoary head bring thou down to the grave with bloodb."’ I wiſh not to be miſapprehended, [104] as intending to cenſure David in particular. If the beſt king the Jews ever had, was ſo miſerably deficient in morality, what muſt be thought of the nation in general? When David was lurking to avoid the wrath of Saul, he became acquainted with Nabal, who had a great ſtock of cattle. ‘"He diſcharged his followers,"’ ſays Joſephusa, ‘"either for avarice, or hunger, or any pretext whatever, to touch a ſingle hair of them; preaching ſtill on the text of doing juſtice to all men, in conformity to the will of God, who is not pleaſed with any man that covets or lays violent hands on the goods of his neighbour."’ Our author proceeds to acquaint us, that Nabal having refuſed to ſupply David with proviſions, and having ſent back the meſſengers with a ſcoffing anſwer, David in great rage made a vow, that he would deſtroy Nabal with his houſe and family. Our author obſerves, that David's indignation againſt Nabal, was not ſo much for his ingratitude, as for the virulence of an inſolent outrage againſt one who had never injured him. And what was the outrage? It was, ſays our author, that Nabal enquiring who the ſaid David was, and being told that he was one of the ſons of Jeſſe, ‘"Yes, yes,"’ ſays Nabal, ‘"your run-away ſervants look upon themſelves to be brave fellows, I warrant you."’ Strange looſeneſs of morals! I mean not David, who was in wrath, but Joſephus writing ſedately in his cloſet. He every where celebrates David for his juſtice and piety, compoſes for him the very warm exhortation mentioned above: and yet thinks him not guilty [105] of any wrong, in vowing to break every rule of juſtice and humanity, upon ſo ſlight a provocation as a ſcoffing expreſſion, ſuch as no man of temper will regard.

European nations, who originally were fierce and ſanguinary like the Greeks and Jews, had the ſame cloudy and uncorrect notions of right and wrong. It is ſcarce neceſſary to give inſtances, the low ſtate of morality during the dark ages of Chriſtianity being known to all. In the time of Louis XI. of France, promiſes and engagements were utterly diſregarded, till they were ſanctified by a ſolemn oath: nor were ſuch oaths long regarded; they loſt their force, and were not relied on more than ſimple promiſes. All faith among men ſeemed to be at an end. Even thoſe who appeared the moſt ſcrupulous about character, were however ready to graſp at any ſubterfuge to excuſe their breach of engagement. And it is a ſtill ſtronger proof of ſelf-deceit, that ſuch ſubterfuges were frequently prepared beforehand, in order to furniſh an excuſe. It was a common practice ſome ages ago, to make private proteſtations, which were thought ſufficient to relieve men in conſcience from being bound by a ſolemn treaty. Charles, afterward Emperor of Germany, during his minority, gave authority to declare publicly his acceſſion to a treaty of peace, between his grandfather Maximilian and the King of France: but at the ſame time proteſted privately, before a notary and witneſſes, ‘"That notwithſtanding his public acceſſion to the ſaid treaty, it was not his intention to be bound by every article of it; and particularly, that the clauſe reſerving to the King of France the ſovereignty of certain territories in the Netherlands, ſhould not be binding."’ Is it poſſible Charles could be ſo blind, as not to [106] ſee, that ſuch practice, if it have any effect, muſt deſtroy all faith among men? What better was this than what was practiſed by Robert King of France in the tenth century, to free his ſubjects from the guilt of perjury? They ſwore upon a box of relics, out of which the relics were privately taken. Correa, a Portugueſe general, made a treaty with the King of Pegu; and it was agreed, that each party ſhould ſwear to obſerve the treaty, laying his hand upon the ſacred book of his religion. Correa ſwore upon a collection of ſongs, and by that vile ſtratagem thought that he was not bound. The inhabitants of Britain were ſo looſe formerly, that a man was not reckoned ſafe in his own houſe, without a maſtiff to protect him from violence. Maſtiffs were permitted even to thoſe who dwelt within the king's foreſts; and to prevent danger to the deer, there was in England a court for Lawing or expeditation of maſtives, i. e. for cutting off the claws of their fore-feet, to prevent them from runninga. The trial and condemnation of Charles I. in a pretended court of juſtice, however audacious and unconſtitutional, was yet an effort toward regularity and order. In the preceding age, the king would have been taken off by aſſaſſination or poiſon. Every prince in Europe had an officer whoſe province it was to ſecure his maſter againſt poiſon. A lady was appointed to that office by Queen Elizabeth of England; and the form was, to give to each of the ſervants a mouthful to eat of the diſh he brought in. Poiſon muſt have been frequent in thoſe days, to make ſuch a regulation neceſſary. To vouch ſtill more clearly the low ebb of morality during that [107] period, ſeldom it happened that a man of figure died ſuddenly, or of an unuſual diſeaſe, but poiſon was ſuſpected. Men conſcious of their own vicious diſpoſition, are prone to ſuſpect others. The Dauphin, ſon to Francis I. of France, a youth of about eighteen, having overheated himſelf at play, took a great draught of iced water, and died of a pleuriſy in five days. The death was ſudden, but none is more natural. The ſuſpicion however of poiſon was univerſal; and Montecuculi, who attended the young prince, was formally condemned to death and executed for it; for no better reaſon, than that he had at all times ready acceſs to the prince.

Conſidering the low ſtate of morality where diſſocial paſſions bear rule, as in the ſcenes now diſplayed, one would require a miracle to recover mankind out of ſuch anarchy. But, as obſerved abovea, Providence brings order out of confuſion. The intolerable diſtreſs of a ſtate of things where a promiſe, or even an oath, is a rope of ſand, and where all are ſet againſt allb, made people at laſt ſenſible, that they muſt either renounce ſociety altogether, or qualify themſelves for it, by checking their diſſocial paſſions. Finding from experience, that the gratification of ſocial affections exceeds greatly that of cruelty and revenge, men endeavoured to acquire a habit of ſelf-command, and of reſtraining their ſtormy paſſions. The neceſſity of fulfilling every moral duty was recogniſed: men liſtened to conſcience, the voice of God in their hearts: and the moral ſenſe was cordially ſubmitted to, as the ultimate [108] judge in all matters of right and wrong. Salutary laws and ſteady government contributed to perfect that glorious revolution: private conviction alone would not have been effectual, not at leaſt in many ages.

From that revolution is derived what is termed the law of nations, meaning certain regulations dictated by the moral ſenſe in its maturity. The laws of our nature refine gradually as our nature refines. The putting an enemy to death in cold blood, is averſe to improved nature, though common while barbarity prevailed. It is held infamous to uſe poiſoned weapons, though the moral ſenſe made little oppoſition while rancour and revenge were ruling paſſions. Averſion againſt ſtrangers is taught to vary its object, from individuals to the nation that is our enemy: I bear enmity againſt France; but diſlike not any one Frenchman, being conſcious that it is the duty of ſubjects to ſerve their king and country*. In diſtributing juſtice, we make no diſtinction between natives and foreigners: if any partiality be indulged, it is in favour of the helpleſs ſtranger.

But cruelty is not the only antagoniſt to morality. There is another, leſs violent indeed, but more cunning and undermining; and that is the hoarding-appetite. Before money was introduced, that appetite was extremely faint: in the firſt ſtage of civil ſociety, men are ſatisfied with plain neceſſaries; and having theſe in plenty, they think [109] not of providing againſt want. But money is a ſpecies of property, ſo univerſal in operation, and ſo permanent in value, as to rouſe the appetite for hoarding: love of money excites induſtry; and the many beautiful productions of induſtry, magnificent houſes, ſplendid gardens, rich garments, inflame the appetite to an extreme. In the thirteenth century, ſo obſcured was the moral ſenſe by rapacity and avarice, that robbery on the high-way, and the coining falſe money, were in Germany held to be privileges of great lords. That perjury was common in the city of London, eſpecially among jurymen, makes a preamble in more than one ſtatute of Henry VII. In the Dance of Death, tranſlated from the French in the ſaid king's reign, with additions adapted to Engliſh manners, a juryman is introduced, who, influenced by bribes, had often given a falſe verdict. And the ſheriff was often ſuſpected as acceſſory to the crime, by returning for jurymen perſons of a bad character. Carew, in his account of Cornwall, ſays, that it was an ordinary article in an attorney's bill, to charge pro amicitia vicecomitis *. Perjury in jurors of the city of London, is greatly complained of. Stow informs us, that, in the year 1468, many jurors of that city were puniſhed, and papers fixed on their heads, declaring their offence, of being corrupted by the parties to the ſuit. He complains of that corruption as flagrant in the reign of Elizabeth, when he wrote his account of London. Fuller, in his Engliſh Worthies, mentions it as a proverbial ſaying, ‘"That London juries hang half, and ſave half."’ Grafton, in his Chronicle, [110] mentions, that the chancellor of the Biſhop of London being indicted for murder, the Biſhop wrote a letter to Cardinal Wolſey, begging his interpoſition for having the proſecution ſtopt, ‘"becauſe London juries were ſo corrupted, that they would find Abel guilty of the murder of Cain."’ In that period, the morals of the Engliſh were in every particular extremely looſe. We learn from Strype's annalsa, that in the county of Somerſet alone, forty perſons were executed in one year for robbery, theft, and other felonies, thirty-five burnt in the hand, thirty-ſeven whipped, one hundred and eighty-three diſcharged, though moſt wicked and deſperate perſons; and yet that the fifth part of the felonies committed in that county were not brought to trial, either from cunning in the felons, indolence in the magiſtrate, or fooliſh lenity in the people; that other counties were in no better condition, and many in a worſe; and that commonly there were three or four hundred able-bodied vagabonds in every county, who lived by theft and rapine. Harriſon computes, that in the reign of Henry VIII. ſeventy-two thouſand thieves and rogues were hanged; and that in Elizabeth's time there were only hanged yearly between three and four hundred for theft and robbery. At preſent, there are not forty hanged in a year for theſe crimes. The ſame author reports, that in the reign of Elizabeth, there were computed to be in England ten thouſand gypſies. In the year 1601, complaints were made in parliament, of the rapine of the juſtices of peace; and a member ſaid, that this magiſtrate was an animal, who, for half a dozen of chickens, would diſpenſe with a dozen [111] of penal ſtatutes. The people of Whidah, in Guinea, are much addicted to pilfering. Boſman was told by the King, ‘"That his ſubjects were not like thoſe of Ardrah, who on the ſlighteſt umbrage will poiſon an European. This, ſays he, you have no reaſon to apprehend here: but take care of your goods; for ſo expert are my people at thieving, that they will ſteal from you while you are looking on."’ The Caribbeans, who know no wants but what nature inſpires, are amazed at the induſtry of the Europeans in amaſſing wealth. Liſten to one of them expoſtulating with a Frenchman in the following terms: ‘"How miſerable art thou, to expoſe thy perſon to tedious and dangerous voyages and to ſuffer thyſelf to be oppreſſed with anxiety about futurity! An inordinate appetite for wealth is thy bane; and yet thou art no leſs tormented in preſerving the goods thou haſt acquired, than in acquiring more: fear of robbery or ſhipwreck ſuffers thee not to enjoy a quiet moment. Thus thou groweſt old in thy youth, thy hair turns gray, thy forehead is wrinkled, a thouſand ailments afflict thy body, a thouſand diſtreſſes ſurround thy heart, and thou moveſt with painful hurry to the grave. Why art thou not content with what thy own country produceth? Why not contemn ſuperfluities, as we do?"’

To control the hoarding appetite, which when inflamed is the bane of civil ſociety, the God of nature has provided two efficacious principles; the moral ſenſe, and the ſenſe of property. The hoarding appetite, it is true, is more and more inflamed by beautiful productions in the progreſs of art: but, on the other hand, the ſenſes mentioned growing to maturity, have a commanding influence over the actions of men; and, when [112] cheriſhed in a good government, are a ſufficient counterbalance to the hoarding appetite. The ancient Egyptians enjoyed for ages the bleſſings of good government; and moral principles were among them carried to a greater degree of refinement, than at preſent even in our courts of equity. It was made the duty of every one, to ſuccour thoſe who were unjuſtly attacked: even paſſengers were not exempted. A regulation among them, that a man could not be impriſoned for debt, was well ſuited to the tenor of their laws and manners: it could not have taken place but among an honeſt and induſtrious people. In old Rome, though remarkable for temperance and auſterity of manners, a debtor could be impriſoned, and even ſold as a ſlave, for payment of the debt; but the Patricians were the creditors, and the poor Plebeians were held in woful ſubjection*. The [113] moderation of the inhabitants of Hamburgh, and their public ſpirit, kept in vigour by a free government, preſerve morality among them entire from taint or corruption. I give an illuſtrious inſtance. Inſtead of a tax upon trade or riches, every merchant puts privately into the public cheſt, what he thinks ought to be his contribution: the total ſum ſeldom falls ſhort of expectation; and among that numerous body of men, not one is ſuſpected of contributing leſs than his proportion. But luxury has not yet got footing in that city. A climate not kindly, and a ſoil not fertile, enured the Swiſs to temperance and to [114] virtue. Patriotiſm continues their ruling paſſion: they are fond of ſerving their country; and are honeſt and faithful to each other: a law-ſuit among them is a wonder; and a door is ſeldom ſhut unleſs to keep out cold.

The hurtful effects of the hoarding appetite with reſpect to individuals, make no figure compared with its poiſonous influence upon the public, in every ſtate enriched by conqueſt or by commerce; which I have had more than one opportunity to mention. Overflowing riches unequally diſtributed, multiply artificial wants beyond all bounds: they eradicate patriotiſm: they foſter luxury, ſenſuality, and ſelfiſhneſs, which are commonly gratified at the expence even of juſtice and honour. The Athenians were early corrupted by opulence; to which every thing was made ſubſervient. ‘"It is an oracle,"’ ſays the chorus in the Agamemnon of Eſchylus, ‘"that is not purchaſed with money."’ During the infancy of a nation, vice prevails from imbecility in the moral ſenſe: in the decline of a nation, it prevails from the corruption of affluence.

In a ſmall ſtate, there is commonly much virtue at home, and much violence abroad. The Romans were to their neighbours more baneful than famine or peſtilence; but patriotiſm in them occaſioned great integrity at home. An oath when given to fortify an engagement with a fellowcitizen, was more ſacred at Rome than in any other part of the worlda. The cenſorian office cannot ſucceed but among a virtuous people; becauſe its rewards and puniſhments have no influence but upon thoſe who are aſhamed of [115] vice*. As ſoon as Aſiatic opulence and luxury prevailed in Rome, ſelfiſhneſs, ſenſuality, and avarice, formed the character of the Romans; and the cenſorian power was at an end. Such relaxation of morals enſued, as to make a law neceſſary prohibiting the cuſtody of an infant to be given to the heir, for fear of murder. And for the ſame reaſon, it was held unlawful to make a covenant de hereditate viventis. Theſe regulations prove the Romans to have been groſsly corrupt. Our law is different in both articles; becauſe it entertains not the ſame bad opinion of the people whom it governs. Domitius Enobarbus and Appius Pulcher were conſuls of Rome in the 699th year; and Memmius and Calvinus were candidates for ſucceeding them in that office. It was agreed among theſe four worthy gentlemen, that they ſhould mutually aſſiſt each other. The conſuls engaged to promote the election of Memmius and Calvinus: and they, on the other hand, ſubſcribed a bond, obliging themſelves, under a penalty of about L. 3000 Sterling, to procure three augurs, who ſhould atteſt, that they were preſent in the comitia when a law paſſed, inveſting the conſuls with military command in their provinces; and alſo obliging themſelves to produce three perſons of conſular rank, to depoſe, that they were not only preſent in the ſenate, but actually in the number of thoſe who ſigned a decree, [116] conferring on the conſuls the uſual proconſular appointments. And yet the law made in the comitia, and the decree in the ſenate, were pure fictions, never even ſpoken of. Infamous as this tranſaction was, Memmius, to anſwer ſome political purpoſe, was not aſhamed to divulge it to the ſenate. This ſame Memmius, however, continued to be Cicero's correſpondent, and his profeſſed friend. Proh tempora! proh mores! But power and riches were at that time ruling paſſions and the principles of morality were very little regarded.

It is needleſs to diſſemble, that ſelfiſhneſs, ſenſuality, and avarice, muſt in England be the fruits of great opulence, as in every other country; and that morality cannot maintain its authority againſt ſuch undermining antagoniſts. Cuſtom-houſe-oaths have become ſo familiar among us, as to be ſwallowed without a wry face; and is it certain, that bribery and perjury in electing parliament-members, are not approaching to the ſame cool ſtate? In the infancy of morality, a promiſe makes but a ſlight impreſſion: to give it force, it is commonly accompanied with many ſolemnitiesa; and in treaties between ſovereigns, even theſe ſolemnities are not relied on without a ſolemn oath. When morality arrives at maturity, the oath is thought unneceſſary; and at preſent, morality is ſo much on the decline, that a ſolemn oath is not more relied on, than a ſimple promiſe was originally. Laws have been made to prevent ſuch immorality, but in vain: becauſe none but patriots have an intereſt to ſupport them; and when patriotiſm is baniſhed by corruption, there is no remaining ſpring in government [117] to make them effectual. The ſtatutes made againſt gaming, and againſt bribery and corruption in elections, have no authority over a degenerate people. Nothing is ſtudied, but how to evade the penalties; and ſuppoſing ſtatutes to be made without end for preventing known evaſions, new evaſions will ſpring up in their ſtead. The miſery is, that ſuch laws, if they prove abortive, are never innocent with regard to conſequences; for nothing is more ſubverſive of morality as well as of patriotiſm, than a habit of diſregarding the laws of our country*.

But pride ſometimes happily interpoſes to ſtem the tide of corruption. The poor are not aſhamed [118] to take a bribe from the rich; nor weak ſtates from thoſe that are powerful, diſguiſed only under the name of ſubſidy or penſion. Both France and England have been in the practice of ſecuring the alliance of ſome foreign princes by penſions; and it is natural in the miniſters of a penſioned prince, to receive a gratification for keeping their maſter to his engagement. England never was at any time ſo inferior to France, as to ſuffer their king to accept a penſion, whatever private tranſactions might be between the kings themſelves. But the miniſters of England thought it no diſparagement, to receive penſions from France. Every miniſter of Edward IV. of England received a penſion from Louis XI.; and they made no difficulty of granting a receipt accordingly. The old Earl of Warwick, ſays Commines, was the only exception: he took the money, but refuſed a receipt. Cardinal Wolſey had a penſion both from the Emperor and from the King of France: and his maſter Henry was vain, that his miniſter was ſo much regarded by the firſt powers in Europe. During the reigns of Charles II. and of his brother James, England made ſo deſpicable a figure, that the miniſters accepted penſions from Louis XIV. A king void of virtue was never well ſerved. King Charles, moſt diſgracefully accepted a penſion from France? what ſcruple could his miniſters have? Britain, governed by a king eminently virtuous and patriotic, makes at preſent ſo great a figure, that even the loweſt miniſter would diſdain a penſion from any foreign prince. Men formerly were ſo blind as not to ſee, that a penſion creates a bias in a miniſter, againſt his maſter and his country. At preſent, men are ſo quick-ſighted as clearly to ſee, that a foreign penſion to a miniſter is no better than a bribe; and it would be held ſo by all the world.

[119] In a nation enriched by conqueſt or commerce, where ſelfiſh paſſions always prevail, it is difficult to ſtem the tide of immorality: the decline of virtue may be retarded by wholeſome regulations; but no regulations will ever reſtore it to its meridian vigour. Marcus Aurelius, Emperor of Rome, cauſed ſtatues to be made of all the brave men who figured in the Germanic war. It has long been a practice in China, to honour perſons eminent for virtue, by feaſting them annually at the Emperor's expence. A late Emperor made an improvement: he ordered reports to be ſent him annually, of men and women who when alive had been remarkable for public ſpirit or private virtue, in order that monuments might be erected to their memory. The following report is one of many that were ſent to the Emperor. ‘"According to the order of your Majeſty, for erecting monuments to the honour of women, who have been celebrated for continence, for filial piety, or for purity of manners, the viceroy of Canton reports, that in the town of Sinhoei, a beautiful young woman, named Leang, ſacrificed her life to ſave her chaſtity. In the fifteenth year of our Emperor Canghi, ſhe was dragged by pirates into their ſhip; and having no other way to eſcape their brutal luſt, ſhe threw herſelf headlong into the ſea. Being of opinion, that to prefer honour before life is an example worthy of imitation, we purpoſe, according to your Majeſty's order, to erect a triumphal arch for that young woman, and to engrave her ſtory upon a large ſtone, that it may be preſerved in perpetual remembrance."’ At the foot of the report is written, The Emperor approves. Pity it is, that ſuch regulations ſhould ever prove abortive, for their purpoſe is excellent. But [120] they would need angels to put them in execution. Every deviation from a juſt ſelection enervates them; and frequent deviations render them a ſubject of ridicule. But how are deviations to be prevented, when men are the judges? Thoſe who diſtribute the rewards will prefer their friends, and overlook thoſe of greater merit. Like the cenſorian power in Rome, ſuch regulations, after many abuſes, will ſink into contempt.

Two errors, which infeſted morality in dark times, have occaſioned much injuſtice; and I am not certain, that they are yet totally eradicated. The firſt is an opinion, That an action derives its quality of right and wrong from the event, without regard to intention. The other is, That the end juſtifies the means; or, in other words, That means, otherwiſe unlawful, may be lawfully employed to bring about a good end. With an account of theſe two errors, I ſhall cloſe the preſent hiſtorical ſketch.

That intention is the circumſtance which qualifies an action, and its author, to be criminal or innocent, is made evident in the firſt part of the preſent ſketch, and is now admitted to be ſo by every moral writer. But rude and barbarous nations ſeldom carry their thoughts beyond what falls under their external ſenſes: they conclude an action to be right that happens to do good, and an action to be wrong that happens to do harm; without ever thinking of motives, of will, of intention, or of any circumſtance that is not obvious to eye-ſight. From many paſſages in the Old Teſtament it appears, that the external act only, with its conſequences, were regarded. Iſaac, imitating his father Abraham, made his wife Rebecca paſs for his ſiſter. Abimelech, King of the Philiſtines, having diſcovered the [121] impoſture, ſaid to Iſaac, ‘"What is this thou haſt done unto us? One of the people might lightly have lien with thy wife, and thou ſhouldſt have brought guiltineſs upon usa."’ Jonathan was condemned to die for tranſgreſſing a prohibition he never heard ofb. A ſin of ignorance, i. e. an action done without ill intention, required a ſacrifice of expiationc. Saul being defeated by the Philiſtines, fell on his own ſword: the wound not being mortal, he prevailed on a young Amalekite, to pull out the ſword, and to diſpatch him with it. Joſephusd ſays, that David ordered the criminal to be delivered up to juſtice as a regicide.

The Greeks appear to have wavered greatly about intention, ſometimes holding it eſſential to a crime, and ſometimes diſregarding it as a circumſtance of no moment. Of theſe contradictory opinions we have pregnant evidence in the two tragedies of Oedipus; the firſt taking it for granted, that a crime conſiſts entirely in the external act and its conſequences; the other holding intention to be indiſpenſable. Oedipus had killed his father Laius, and married his mother Jocaſta; but without any criminal intention, being ignorant of his relation to them. And yet hiſtory informs us, that the gods puniſhed the Thebans with peſtilence, for ſuffering a wretch ſo groſsly criminal to live. Sophocles, author of both tragedies, puts the following words in the mouth of Tireſias the prophet.

[122]
—Know then,
With thoſe he loves, unconſcious of his guilt,
Is yet moſt guilty.

And that doctrine is eſpouſed by Ariſtotle in a later period, who holding Oedipus to have been deeply criminal, though without intention, is of opinion, that a more proper ſubject for tragedy never was brought upon the ſtage. Nay as a philoſopher he talks currently of an involuntary crime. Oreſtes, in Euripides, acknowledges himſelf to be guilty in killing his mother; yet aſſerts with the ſame breath, that his crime was inevitable, a neceſſary crime, a crime commanded by religion.

In Oedipus Coloneus, the other tragedy mentioned, a very different propoſition is maintained. A defence is made for that unlucky man, agreeable to ſound moral principles, that, having had no bad intention, he was entirely innocent; and that his misfortunes ought to be aſcribed to the wrath of the gods.

Thou who upbraid'ſt me thus for all my woes,
Murder and inceſt, which againſt my will
I had committed; ſo it pleas'd the gods,
Offended at my race for former crimes.
But I am guiltleſs; can'ſt thou name a fault
Deſerving this? For, tell me, was it mine,
When to my father, Phoebus did declare,
That he ſhould one day periſh by the hand
Of his own child; was Oedipus to blame,
Who had no being then? If, born at length
To wretchedneſs, he met his ſire unknown,
And ſlew him, that involuntary deed
Can'ſt thou condemn? And for my fatal marriage,
Doſt thou not bluſh to name it? was not ſhe
[123] Thy ſiſter, ſhe who bore me, ignorant
And guiltleſs woman! afterwards my wife,
And mother to my children? What ſhe did, ſhe did unknowing.
But, not for that, nor for my murder'd father,
Have I deſerv'd thy bitter taunts: for, tell me,
Thy life attack'd, wouldſt thou have ſtaid to aſk
Th' aſſaſſin, if he were thy father? No;
Self-love would urge thee to revenge the inſult.
Thus was I drove to ill by th' angry gods;
This, ſhou'd my father's ſoul reviſit earth,
Himſelf would own, and pity Oedipus.

Again, in the fourth act, the following prayer is put up for Oedipus by the chorus.

—O grant,
That not oppreſs'd by tort'ring pain
Beneath the ſtroke of death he linger long;
But ſwift, with eaſy ſteps, deſcend to Styx's drear abode;
For he hath led a life of toil and pain;
May the juſt gods repay his undeſerved woe.

The audience was the ſame in both plays. Did they think Oedipus to be guilty in the one play, and innocent in the other? If they did not, how could both plays be reliſhed? if they did, they muſt have been groſsly ſtupid.

The ſtatues of a Roman Emperor were held ſo ſacred, that to treat them with any contempt was high treaſon. This ridiculous opinion was carried ſo far out of common ſenſe, that a man was held guilty of high treaſon, if a ſtone thrown by him happened accidentally to touch one of theſe ſtatues. And the law continued in force till abrogated by a reſcript of Severus Antoninusa.

[124] In England, ſo little was intention regarded, that caſual homicide, and even homicide in ſelf-defence, were capitally puniſhed. It requires ſtrong evidence to vouch ſo abſurd a law; and I have the ſtrongeſt, viz. the act of 52o Henry III. cap. 26. converting the capital puniſhment into a forfeiture of moveables. The ſame groſs blunder continued much longer to be law in Scotland. By act 19. parl. 1649, renewed act 22. parl. 1661, the capital puniſhment is converted to impriſonment, or a fine to the wife and children. In a period ſo late as the Reſtoration, ſtrange blindneſs it was, not to perceive, that homicide in ſelf-defence, being a lawful act, juſtified by the ſtricteſt rules of morality, ſubjects not a man to puniſhment, more than the defending his property againſt a robber; and that caſual homicide, meaning homicide committed innocently without ill intention, may ſubject him to reparation, but never to any puniſhment, mild or ſevere.

The Jeſuits in their doctrines ſeem to reſt on the external act, diſregarding intention. It is with them a matter of perfect indifference, from what motive men obey the laws of God; and that the ſervice of thoſe who obey from fear of puniſhment, is no leſs acceptable to the Deity, than of thoſe who obey from a principle of love*.

[125] The other error mentioned above, is, That the end juſtifies the means. In defence of that propoſition, it is urged, that the character of the means is derived from the end; that every action muſt be right which contributes to a good end, and that every action muſt be wrong which contributes to an ill end. But thoſe who reaſon thus, ought firſt to conſider, whether reaſoning be at all applicable to the preſent ſubject. Reaſon is the true touchſtone of truth and falſehood; but the moral ſenſe is the only touchſtone of right and wrong; and to maintain, that reaſon is our guide in judging of right and wrong, is no leſs abſurd than to maintain, that the moral ſenſe is our guide in judging of truth and falſehood. The moral ſenſe dictates, that on no pretext whatever is it lawful to do an act of injuſtice, or any wronga: and men, conſcious that the moral ſenſe governs in matters of right and wrong, ſubmit implicitly to its dictates. Influenced however by the reaſoning mentioned, during the nonage of the moral ſenſe, men did wrong currently in order to bring about a good end; witneſs pretended miracles and forged writings, urged without reſerve by every ſect of Chriſtians againſt their antagoniſts. And I am ſorry to obſerve, that the error is not totally eradicated: miſſionaries employed in converting infidels to the true faith, are little ſcrupulous about the means: they make no difficulty to feign prodigies in order to convert thoſe who are not moved by argument. Such pious frauds tend to ſap the very foundations of morality.

SKETCH III.
Principles and Progreſs of THEOLOGY.

[126]

AS no branch of knowledge can vie with theology, either in dignity or importance, it juſtly claims to be a favourite ſtudy with every perſon endued with true taſte and ſolid judgment. From the time that writing was invented, natural religion has employed pens without number; and yet in no language is there found a complete hiſtory of it. That taſk is far above my abilities: I propoſe only a ſlight ſketch; which I ſhall glory in, however imperfect, if it excite any one of ſuperior talents to undertake a taſk ſo arduous.

CHAP. I.
Exiſtence of a DEITY.

THAT there are beings, one or many, powerful above men, has been generally believed among the various tribes of men: I may ſay univerſally believed, notwithſtanding what is [127] reported of ſome groſs ſavages; for reports repugnant to the common nature of man, require more able vouchers than a few illiterate voyagers. Among many ſavage tribes, there are no words but for objects of external ſenſe: is it ſurpriſing, that ſuch people are incapable to expreſs their religious perceptions, or any perception of internal ſenſe? and from their ſilence can it be fairly preſumed, that they have no ſuch perception*? The belief of ſuperior powers, in every country where there are words to expreſs it, is ſo well vouched, that in fair reaſoning it ought to be taken for granted among the few tribes where language is deficient. Even the groſſeſt idolatry affords to me evidence of that belief. No nation can be ſo brutiſh as to worſhip a ſtock or a ſtone, merely as ſuch. The viſible object is always imagined to be connected with ſome inviſible power; and the worſhip paid to the former, is as repreſenting the latter, or as in ſome manner connected with it. Every family among the ancient Lithuanians, entertained a real ſerpent as a houſehold god; and the ſame practice is at preſent univerſal, among the negroes in the kingdom of Whidah: it is not the ſerpent that is worſhipped, but ſome deity imagined to reſide in it. The ancient Egyptians were not idiots, to pay divine honours to a bull [128] or a cat, as ſuch: the divine honours were paid to a deity, as reſiding in theſe animals. The ſun is to man a familiar object: as it is frequently obſcured by clouds, and totally eclipſed during night, a ſavage readily conceives it to be a great fire ſometimes flaming bright, ſometimes obſcured, and ſometimes extinguiſhed. Whence then ſunworſhip, once univerſal among ſavages? Plainly from the ſame cauſe: it is not properly the ſun that is worſhipped, but a deity who is ſuppoſed to dwell in that luminary.

Taking it then for granted, that our belief of ſuperior powers has been long univerſal, the important queſtion is, From what cauſe it proceeds. A belief ſo univerſal, and ſo permanent, cannot proceed from chance, but muſt have a cauſe operating conſtantly and invariably upon all men in all ages. Philoſophers, who believe the world to be eternal and ſelf-exiſtent, and imagine it to be the only deity, though without intelligence, endeavour to account for our belief of ſuperior powers, from the terror that thunder and other elementary convulſions raiſe in ſavages; and thence conclude that ſuch belief is no evidence of a deity. Thus Lucretius,

Praeterea, cui non animus formidine divum
Contrahitur? cui non conripunt membra pavore,
Fulminis horribili cum plaga torrida tellus
Contremit, et magnum percurrunt murmura coelum* a?

[129] And Petronius Arbiter,

Primus in orbe deos fecit timor: ardua coelo
Fulmina quum caderent diſcuſſaque moenia flammis,
Atque ictus flagraret Athos.

Man, during infancy a defenceleſs animal, is endued on that account with a large portion of fear. Savages, groſsly ignorant of cauſes and effects, take fright at every unuſual appearance, and recur to ſome malignant power as the cauſe. Now, if the authors quoted mean only, that the firſt perception of deity among ſavages is occaſioned by fear, I heartily ſubſcribe to their opinion. But if it was their meaning, that ſuch perceptions proceed from fear ſolely, without having any other cauſe, I wiſh to be informed, from what ſource is derived the belief we have of ſuperior benevolent beings. Fear cannot be the ſource: and it will be ſeen anon, that though malevolent deities were firſt recogniſed among ſavages; yet that in the progreſs of ſociety, the exiſtence of benevolent deities was univerſally believed. The fact is certain; and therefore fear is not the ſole [130] cauſe of our believing the exiſtence of ſuperior beings.

It is beſide to me evident, that the belief even of malevolent deities, once univerſal among all the tribes of men, cannot be accounted for from fear ſolely. I obſerve, firſt, That there are many men, to whom an eclipſe, an earthquake, and even thunder are unknown: Egypt in particular, though the country of ſuperſtition, is little or not at all acquainted with the two latter. Nor do ſuch appearances ſtrike terror into every one who is acquainted with them. The univerſality of the belief, muſt then have ſome cauſe more univerſal than fear. I obſerve next, That if the belief were founded ſolely on fear, it would die away gradually as men improve in the knowledge of cauſes and effects. Inſtruct a ſavage, that thunder, an eclipſe, an earthquake, proceed from natural cauſes, and are not threatenings of an incenſed deity; his fear of malevolent beings will vaniſh; and with it his belief in them, if founded ſolely on fear. Yet the direct contrary is true: in proportion as the human underſtanding ripens, our belief of ſuperior powers, or of a Deity, turns more and more firm and authoritative; which will be made evident in the chapter immediately following.

Philoſophers of more enlarged views, and of deeper penetration, may poſſibly think, that the operations of nature, and the government of this world, which loudly proclaim a Deity, may be ſufficient to open the eyes of the groſſeſt ſavages, and to convince them that there is a Deity. And to give due weight to the argument, I ſhall relate a converſation between a Greenlander and a Daniſh miſſionary, mentioned by Crantz in his hiſtory of Greenland. ‘"It is true,"’ ſays the Greenlander, ‘"we were ignorant Heathens, and knew [131] little of a God, till you came. But you muſt not imagine, that no Greenlander thinks about theſe things. A kajaka, with all its tackle and implements, cannot exiſt but by the labour of man; and one who does not underſtand it, would ſpoil it. But the meaneſt bird requires more ſkill than the beſt kajak; and no man can make a bird. There is ſtill more ſkill required to make a man: by whom then was he made? He proceeded from his parents, and they from their parents. But ſome muſt have been the firſt parents: whence did they proceed? Common report ſays, that they grew out of the earth: if ſo, why do not men ſtill grow out of the earth? And from whence came the earth itſelf, the ſun, the moon, the ſtars? Certainly there muſt be ſome being who made all theſe things, a being more wiſe than the wiſeſt man."’ The reaſoning here from effects to their cauſes, is ſtated with great preciſion; and were all men equally penetrating with the Greenlander, ſuch reaſoning might perhaps be ſufficient to account for the belief of Deity, univerſally ſpread among all ſavages. But ſuch penetration is a rare quality among ſavages; and yet the belief of ſuperior powers is univerſal, not excepting even the groſſeſt ſavages, who are altogether incapable of reaſoning like our Greenland philoſopher. Natural hiſtory has made ſo rapid a progreſs of late years, and the finger of God is ſo viſible to us in the various operations of nature, that we do not readily conceive how even ſavages can be ignorant: but it is a common fallacy in reaſoning, to judge of others by what we feel in ourſelves. And to [132] give juſter notions of the condition of ſavages, I take the liberty to introduce the Wogultzoi, a people in Siberia, as exhibiting a ſtriking picture of ſavages in their natural ſtate. That people were baptized at the command of Prince Gagarin, governor of the province; and Laurent Lange, in his relation of a journey from Peterſburgh to Pekin ann. 1715, gives the following account of their converſion. ‘"I had curioſity,"’ ſays he, ‘"to queſtion them about their worſhip before they embraced Chriſtianity. They ſaid, that they had an idol hung upon a tree, before which they proſtrated themſelves, raiſing their eyes to heaven, and howling with a loud voice. They could not explain what they meant by howling; but only that every man howled in his own faſhion. Being interrogated, Whether, in raiſing their eyes to heaven, they knew that a god is there, who ſees all the actions, and even the thoughts of men; they anſwered ſimply, That heaven is too far above them to know whether a god be there or not; and that they had no care but to provide meat and drink. Another queſtion was put, Whether they had not more ſatisfaction in worſhipping the living God, than they formerly had in the darkneſs of idolatry; they anſwered, We ſee no great difference; and we do not break our heads about ſuch matters."’ Judge how little capable ſuch ignorant ſavages are, to reaſon from effects to their cauſes, and to trace a Deity from the operations of nature. And it may be added with great certainty, that could they be made in any degree to conceive ſuch reaſoning, yet ſo weak and obſcure would their conviction be, as to reſt there without moving them to any ſort of worſhip; which however [133] among ſavages goes hand in hand with the belief of ſuperior powers.

To ſum up this argument: As fear is a cauſe altogether inſufficient for the belief of Deity, univerſal among all tribes; and as reaſoning from effects to their cauſes can have no influence upon ignorant ſavages; what cauſe remains but nature itſelf? To make this belief univerſal, the image of the Deity muſt be ſtamped upon the mind of every human being, the ignorant equally with the knowing: nothing leſs is ſufficient. And the perception we have of Deity muſt proceed from an internal cauſe, which may be termed the ſenſe of Deity.

Included in the ſenſe of Deity, is the duty we are under to worſhip him. And to enforce that duty, the principle of devotion is made a part of our nature. All men accordingly agree in worſhipping ſuperior beings, however they may difſer in the mode of worſhip. And the univerſality of ſuch worſhip, proves devotion to be an innate principle.

The perception we have of being accountable beings, ariſes from another branch of the ſenſe of Deity. We expect approbation from the Deity when we do right; and dread puniſhment from him when guilty of any crime; not excepting the moſt occult crimes, hid from every mortal eye. From what cauſe can dread proceed in that caſe, but from belief of a ſuperior being, avenger of wrongs? That dread, when immoderate, diſorders the mind, and makes every unuſual miſfortune paſs for a puniſhment inſlicted by an inviſible hand. ‘"And they ſaid one to another, We are verily guilty concerning our brother, in that we ſaw the anguiſh of his ſoul, when he beſought us, and we would not hear: therefore is this diſtreſs come upon us. And Reuben [134] anſwered them, ſaying, Spake I not unto you, ſaying, Do not ſin againſt the child; and ye would not hear? therefore behold alſo his blood is requireda."’ Alphonſus King of Naples, was a cruel and tyrannical prince. He drove his people to deſpair with oppreſſive taxes, treacherouſly aſſaſſinated ſeveral of his barons, and loaded others with chains. During proſperity, his conſcience gave him little diſquiet; but in adverſity, his crimes ſtared him in the face, and made him believe that his diſtreſſes proceeded from the hand of God, as a juſt puniſhment. He was terrified to diſtraction, when Charles VIII. of France approached with a numerous army: he deſerted his kingdom; and fled to hide himſelf from the face of God and man.

But admitting a ſenſe of Deity, is it evidence to us that a Deity actually exiſts? The anſwer is, That it is complete evidence. So framed is man as to rely on the evidence of his ſenſesb; which evidence it is not in his power to reject, were he even diſpoſed to be a ſceptic. And experience confirms our belief; for our ſenſes, when in order, never deceive us.

The foregoing ſenſe of Deity is not the only evidence we have of his exiſtence: there is additional evidence from other branches of our nature. Inherent in the nature of man are two paſſions, devotion, of which the Diety is the immediate and only object; and dread of puniſhment, when one is guilty of any crime. Theſe paſſions would be idle and abſurd were there no [135] Deity to be worſhipped or to be dreaded: they would be illuſory paſſions, having no object: they would be the ſingle inſtance of ſuch irregularity; and groſsly irregular it would be, to be endued with paſſions or principles contrived for no end or purpoſe. Man makes a capital figure; and is the moſt perfect being that inhabits this earth: how then is it poſſible to believe, that he ſhould be endued with paſſions contradictory to the regular and beautiful laws which govern all other things here? It is not credible. The paſſions mentioned, both of them, direct us to a Deity, and afford us irreſiſtible evidence of his exiſtence.

Thus our Maker leaves no work of his imperfect: he has revealed himſelf to us, in a way perfectly analagous to our nature: in the mind of every human creature, he has lighted up a lamp, which renders him viſible even to the weakeſt ſight. Nor ought it to eſcape obſervation, that here, as in every other caſe, the conduct of Providence to man, is uniform. It leaves him to be directed by reaſon, where liberty of choice is permitted: but in matters of duty, he is provided with guides leſs fallible than reaſon: in performing his duty to man, he is guided by the moral ſenſe; in performing his duty to God, he is guided by the ſenſe of Deity. In theſe mirrors, he perceives his duty intuitively.

It is no ſlight ſupport to this doctrine, that if there really be a Deity, it is highly preſumable, that he will reveal himſelf to man, fitted by nature to adore and worſhip him. To other animals, the knowledge of a Deity is of no importance: to man, it is of high importance. Were we totally ignorant of a Deity, this world would appear to us a mere chaos: under the government of a wiſe and benevolent Deity, chance is [136] excluded; and every event, the reſult of eſtabliſhed laws, is perceived to be the beſt on the whole. Good men ſubmit to whatever happens, without repining, truſting that every event is ordered by divine Providence: they ſubmit with entire reſignation; and ſuch reſignation is a ſovereign balſam to every misfortune.

The ſenſe of Deity reſembles our other ſenſes, which lie dormant till a proper object preſent itſelf. When all is ſilent about us, the ſenſe of hearing is dormant; and if from infancy a man were confined to a dark room, he would be as ignorant of the ſenſe of ſeeing, as one born blind. Among ſavages, the objects that rouſe the ſenſe of Deity, are uncommon events above the power of man; an earthquake, for example, a hurricane, a total eclipſe of the ſun, a ſudden ſwell of a river that prevents their eſcape from an impending enemy. A ſavage, if he be acquainted with no events but what are familiar, has no perception of ſuperior powers; but thunder rattling in his ears, or the convulſion of an earthquake, rouſes in him the ſenſe of Deity, and directs him to ſome ſuperior being as the cauſe of theſe dreadful effects. The ſavage, it is true, errs in aſcribing to the immediate operation of a Deity, things that have a natural cauſe: his error however is evidence that he has a ſenſe of Deity, no leſs pregnant, than when he more juſtly attributes to the immediate operation of Deity, the formation of man, of this earth, of all the world.

The ſenſe of Deity, like the moral ſenſe, makes no capital figure among ſavages; the perceptions of both ſenſes being in them faint and obſcure. But in the progreſs of nations to maturity, theſe ſenſes turn more and more vigorous, ſo as among enlightened nations to acquire a commanding [137] influence; leaving no doubt about right and wrong, and as little about the exiſtence of a Deity.

The obſcurity of the ſenſe of Deity among ſavages, has encouraged ſome ſceptical philoſophers to deny its exiſtence. It has been urged, That God does nothing by halves; and that if he intended to make himſelf known to man, the ſenſe of Deity would produce equal conviction with that of ſeeing or hearing. When we argue thus about the purpoſes of the Almighty, we tread on ſlippery ground, where we ſeldom fail to ſtumble. What if it be the purpoſe of the Deity, to afford us but an obſcure glimpſe of his being and attributes? We have reaſon from analogy to conjecture, that this may be the caſe. From ſome particulars mentioned abovea, it appears at leaſt probable, that entire ſubmiſſion to the moral ſenſe, would be ill-ſuited to man in his preſent ſtate; and would prove more hurtful than beneficial. And to me it appears evident, that to be conſcious of the preſence of the Great God, as I am of a friend whom I hold by the hand, would be inconſiſtent with the part that Providence has deſtined me to act in this life. Reflect only on the reſtraint one is under, in preſence of a ſuperior, ſuppoſe the King himſelf: how much greater our reſtraint with the ſame lively impreſſion of God's awful preſence! Humility and veneration would leave no room for other paſſions: man would be no longer man; and the ſyſtem of our preſent ſtate would be totally ſubverted. Take another inſtance: Such a conviction of future rewards and puniſhments as to overcome every inordinate deſire, would reduce us to the condition [138] of a traveller in a paltry inn, having no wiſh but for day-light to proſecute his journey. For that very reaſon, it appears agreeable to the plan of Providence, that we ſhould have but an obſcure glimpſe of futurity. As the ſame plan of Providence is viſible in all, I conclude with aſſurance, that a certain degree of obſcurity, weighs nothing againſt the ſenſe of Deity, more than againſt the moral ſenſe, or againſt a future ſtate of rewards and puniſhments. Whether all men might not have been made angels, and whether more happineſs might not have reſulted from a different ſyſtem, lie far beyond the reach of human knowledge. From what is known of the conduct of Providence, we have reaſon to preſume, that our preſent ſtate is the reſult of wiſdom and benevolence. So much we know with certainty, that the ſenſe we have of Deity and of moral duty, correſpond accurately to the nature of man as an imperfect being; and that theſe ſenſes, were they abſolutely perfect, would unhinge his nature, and convert him into a very different being.

A theory eſpouſed by ſeveral writers ancient and modern, muſt not be overlooked; becauſe it pretends to compoſe the world without a Deity; which would reduce the ſenſe of Deity to be deluſive, if it have any exiſtence. The theory is, That the world, compoſed of animals, vegetables, and brute matter, is ſelf-exiſtent and eternal; and that all events happen by a neceſſary chain of cauſes and effects. In this theory, though wiſdom and benevolence are conſpicuous in every part, yet the great work of planning and executing the whole, is underſtood to have been done blindly without intelligence or contrivance. It is ſcarce neceſſary to remark, that this theory, aſſumed at pleaſure, is highly improbable, if not abſurd; [139] and yet that it is left naked to the world without the leaſt cover or ſupport. But what I chiefly inſiſt on is, that the endleſs number of wiſe and benevolent effects, diſplayed every where on the face of this globe, afford to us complete evidence of a wiſe and benevolent cauſe; and as theſe effects are far above the power of man, we neceſſarily aſcribe them to ſome ſuperior being, or in other words to the Deitya. And this is ſufficient to remove the preſent objection againſt the exiſtence of a ſenſe of Deity. But I am not ſatisfied with this partial victory. I proceed to obſerve, that nothing more is required but the proof of a Deity, to overturn the ſuppoſition of ſelf-exiſtence in a world compoſed of many heterogeneous parts, and of a chain of cauſes and effects framed without intelligence or foreſight, though full of wiſdom and contrivance in every part. For if a Deity exiſt, wiſe and powerful above all other beings, ſelf-exiſtence ought to be his peculiar attribute; and no perſon of rationality will have any heſitation in rejecting the ſelf-exiſtence of ſuch a world, when ſo natural a ſuppoſition lies in view, as that the whole is the operation of the truly ſelf-exiſtent Being, whoſe power and wiſdom are fully adequate to that arduous taſk.

Many groſs and abſurd conceptions of Deity that have prevailed among rude nations, are urged by ſome writers as another objection againſt a ſenſe of Deity. That objection ſhall not be overlooked; but it will be anſwered to better purpoſe, after theſe groſs and abſurd conceptions are [140] examined; which ſhall be done in the chapter immediately following.

The proof of a Deity from the innate ſenſe here explained, differs materially from what is contained in eſſays on morality and natural religiona. The proof there given is founded on a chain of reaſoning, altogether independent on the innate ſenſe of Deity. Both equally produce conviction; hut as a ſenſe operates intuitively without reaſoning, the ſenſe of Deity is made a branch of human nature, in order to enlighten thoſe who are incapable of a long chain of reaſoning; and to ſuch, who make the bulk of mankind, it is more convincing, than the moſt perſpicuous reaſoning to a philoſopher.

CHAP. II.
Progreſs of Opinions with reſpect to DEITY.

THE ſenſe of Deity, like many other delicate ſenſes, is in ſavages ſo faint and obſcure as eaſily to be biaſſed from truth. Among them, the belief of many ſuperior beings, is univerſal. [141] And two cauſes join to produce that belief. The firſt is, that being accuſtomed to a plurality of viſible objects, men, mountains, trees, cattle, and ſuch like, they are naturally led to imagine the ſame plurality in things not viſible; and from that ſlight bias, ſlight indeed but natural, is partly derived the ſyſtem of Polytheiſm, univerſal among ſavages. The other is, that ſavages know little of the connection between cauſes and effects, and ſtill leſs of the order and government of this world: every event that is not familiar, appears to them ſingular and extraordinary; and if ſuch event exceed human power, it is without heſitation aſcribed to a ſuperior being. But as it occurs not to a ſavage, nor to any perſon who is not a philoſopher, that the many various events exceeding human power and ſeemingly unconnected, may all proceed from the ſame cauſe; they are readily aſcribed to different beings. Pliny aſcribes Polytheiſm to another cauſe, viz. the conſciouſneſs men have of their imbecility: ‘"Our powers are confined within narrow bounds: we do not readily conceive powers in the Deity much more extenſive; and we ſupply by number what is wanting in power."’ Polytheiſm, thus founded, is the firſt ſtage in the progreſs of theology; for it is embraced by the rudeſt ſavages, who have neither capacity nor inclination to pierce deeper into the nature of things.

The next ſtage is diſtinguiſhable from others, by a belief that all ſuperior beings are malevolent. Man by nature weak and helpleſs, is prone to fear, dreading every new object and every unuſual event. Savages, having no protection againſt ſtorms, tempeſts, or other external accidents, and having no pleaſures but in gratifying hunger, thirſt, and animal love, have much to fear, and [142] little to hope. In that diſconſolate condition, they attribute the bulk of their diſtreſſes to inviſible beings, who in their opinion muſt be malevolent. This ſeems to have been the opinion of the Greeks in the days of Solon; as appears in a converſation between him and Croeſus King of Lydia, mentioned by Herodotus in the firſt book of his hiſtory. ‘"Croeſus, ſaid Solon, you aſk me about human affairs; and I anſwer as one who thinks that all the gods are envious, and diſturbers of mankind."’ The negroes on the coaſt of Guinea, dread their deities as tyrants and oppreſſors: having no conception of a good deity, they attribute the few bleſſings they receive, to the ſoil, to the rivers, to the trees, and to the plants. The Lithuanians continued Pagans down to the fourteenth century; and worſhipped in gloomy woods, where their deities were held to reſide. Their worſhip probably was prompted by fear, which is allied to gloomineſs or darkneſs. The people of Kamſkatka acknowledge to this day many malevolent deities, having little or no notion of a good deity. They believe the air, the water, the mountains, and the woods, to be inhabited by malevolent ſpirits, whom they fear and worſhip. The ſavages of Guiana aſcribe to the devil even their moſt common diſeaſes; nor do they ever think of another remedy, but to apply to a ſorcerer to drive him away. Such negroes as believe in the devil, paint his images white.

Conviction of ſuperior beings, who, like men, are of a mixed nature, ſometimes doing good, ſometimes miſchief, conſtitutes the third ſtage. This came to be the ſyſtem of theology in Greece. The introduction of writing among the Greeks, while they were little better than ſavages, produced a compound of character and [143] manners, that has not a parallel in any other nation. They were acute in ſcience, ſkilful in fine arts, extremely deficient in morals, groſs beyond conception in theology, and ſuperſtitious to a degree of folly; a ſtrange jumble of exquiſite ſenſe and abſurd nonſenſe. They held their gods to reſemble men in their external figure, and to be corporeal. In the 21ſt book of the Iliad, Minerva with a huge ſtone beats Mars to the ground, whoſe monſtrous body covered ſeven broad acres. As corporeal beings, they were ſuppoſed to require the nouriſhment of meat, drink, and ſleep. Homer mentions more than once the inviting of gods to a feaſt: and Pauſanias reports, that in the temple of Bacchus at Athens, there were figures of clay, repreſenting a feaſt given by Amphyction to Bacchus and other deities. The inhabitants of the iſland Java are not ſo groſs in their conceptions, as to think that the gods eat the offerings preſented to them: but it is their opinion, that a deity brings his mouth near the offering, ſucks out all its ſavour, and leaves it taſteleſs like water*. The Grecian gods, as deſcribed by Homer, dreſs, bathe, and anoint, like mortals. Venus, after being detected by her Huſband in the embraces of Mars, retires to Paphos;

Where to the pow'r an hundred altars riſe,
And breathing odours ſcent the balmy ſkies:
Conceal'd ſhe bathes in conſecrated bow'rs,
The Graces ungents ſhed, ambroſial ſhow'rs,
[144] Unguents that charm the gods! She laſt aſſumes
Her wondrous robes; and full the goddeſs blooms.
ODYSSEY, book 8.

Juno's dreſs is moſt poetically deſcribed, Iliad, book 14. It was alſo univerſally believed, that the gods were fond of women, and had many children by them. The ancient Germans thought more ſenſibly, that the gods were too high to reſemble men in any degree, or to be confined within the walls of a temple. Led by the ſame impreſſions of deity, the Greeks ſeem to have thought, that the gods did not much exceed themſelves in knowledge. When Ageſilaus journeyed with his private retinue, he uſually lodged in a temple; making the gods witneſſes, ſays Plutarch, of his moſt ſecret actions. The Greeks thought, that a god, like a man, might know what paſſed within his own houſe; without knowing any thing paſſing at a greater diſtance. Agamemnon, in Eſchylus, putting off his travelling habit, and dreſſing himſelf in ſplendid purple, is afraid of being ſeen and envied by ſome jealous god. We learn from Seneca, that people ſtrove for the ſeat next to the image of the deity, that their prayers might be the better heard. But what we hae chiefly to remark upon this head, is, that the Grecian gods were, like men, held capable of doing both good and ill. Jupiter, their higheſt deity, was a raviſher of women, and a notorious adulterer. In the ſecond book of the Iliad, he ſends a lying dream to deceive Agamemnon. Mars ſeduces Venus by bribes to commit adulterya. In the [145] Rheſus of Euripides, Minerva, diſguiſed like Venus, deceives Paris by a groſs lie. The ground-work of the tragedy of Xuthus is a lying oracle, declaring Ion, ſon of Apollo and Creuſa, to be the ſon of Xuthus. Oreſtes in Euripides, having ſlain his mother Clytemneſtra, excuſes himſelf as having been miſled by Apollo to commit the crime. ‘"Ah!"’ ſays he, ‘"had I conſulted the ghoſt of my father, he would have diſſuaded me from a crime that has proved my ruin, without doing him any good."’ He concludes with obſerving, that having acted by Apollo's command, Apollo is the only criminal. In a tragedy of Sophocles, Minerva makes no difficulty to cheat Ajax, by promiſing to be his friend, while underhand ſhe is ſerving Ulyſſes, his bitter enemy. Mercury, in revenge for the murder of his ſon Myrtilus, entails curſes on Pelops the murderer, and on all his race*. In general, the gods, every where in Greek tragedies, are partial, unjuſt, tyrannical, and revengeful. The Greeks accordingly have no reſerve in maltreating their gods. In the tragedy of Prometheus, Jupiter, without the leaſt ceremony, is accuſed of being an uſurper. Eſchylus proclaims publicly on the ſtage, that Jupiter, a jealous, cruel, and implacable tyrant, had overturned every thing in heaven; and that the other gods were reduced to be his ſlaves. In the Iliad, book 13. Menelaus addreſſes Jupiter in the following words: ‘"O father Jove! in wiſdom, they ſay, thou excelleſt both men and gods. Yet all theſe [146] ills proceed from thee; for the wicked thou doſt aid in war. Thou art a friend to the Trojans, whoſe ſouls delight in force, who are never glutted with blood."’ The gods were often treated with a ſort of contemptuous familiarity, and employed in very low offices. Nothing is more common, than to introduce them as actors in Greek tragedies; frequently for trivial purpoſes: Apollo comes upon the ſtage moſt courteouſly to acquaint the audience with the ſubject of the play. Why is this not urged by our critics, as claſſical authority againſt the rule of Horace, Nec deus interſit niſi dignus vindice nodus *. Homer makes very uſeful ſervants of his gods. Minerva, in particular, is a faithful attendant upon Ulyſſes. She acts the herald, and calls the chiefs to councila. She marks the place where a great ſtone fell that was thrown by Ulyſſesb. She aſſiſts Ulyſſes to hide his treaſure in a cavec, and helps him to wreſtle with a beggard. Ulyſſes being toſſed with cares in bed, ſhe deſcends from heaven to make him fall aſleepe. This laſt might poſſibly be ſqueezed into an allegory, if Minerva were not frequently introduced where there is no place for an allegory. [147] Jupiter, book 17. of the Iliad, is introduced comforting the ſteeds of Achilles for the death of Patroclus. It appears from Ciceroa, that when Greek philoſophers began to reaſon about the deity, their notions were wonderfully crude. One of the hardeſt morſels to digeſt in Plato's philoſophy, was his doctrine, That God is incorporeal; which by many was thought abſurd, for that, without a body, he could not have ſenſes, nor prudence, nor pleaſure. The religious creed of the Romans ſeems to have been little leſs impure than that of the Greeks. It was a ceremony of theirs, in beſieging a town, to evocate the tutelar deity, and to tempt him by a reward to betray his friends and votaries. In that ceremony, the name of the tutelar deity was thought of importance; and for that reaſon, the tutelar deity of Rome was a profound ſecret*. Appian of Alexandria, in his book of [148] the Parthian war, reports, that Antony, reduced to extremity by the Parthians, lifted up his eyes to heaven, and beſought the gods, that if any of them were jealous of his former happineſs, they would pour their vengeance upon his head alone, and ſuffer his army to eſcape. The ſtory of Paris and the three goddeſſes gives no favourable impreſſion, either of the morals or religion of the Romans. Juno and her two ſiſterdeities ſubmit their diſpute about beauty to the [149] ſhepherd Paris, who conſcientiouſly pronounces in favour of Venus. But

—manet alta mente repoſtum.
Judicium Paridis, ſpretaeque injuria formae.

Juno, not ſatisfied with wreaking her malice againſt the honeſt ſhepherd, declares war againſt his whole nation. Not even Eneas, though a fugitive in foreign lands, eſcapes her fury. Their great god Jupiter is introduced on the ſtage by Plautus, to deceive Alcmena, and to lie with her in the ſhape of her huſband. Nay, it was the opinion of the Romans, that this play made much for the honour of Jupiter; for in times of national troubles and calamities, it was commonly acted to appeaſe his anger;—a moſt pregnant inſtance of the groſs conceptions of that warlike people in morality, as well as in religion.

A diviſion of inviſible beings into benevolent and malevolent, without any mixture of theſe qualities, makes the fourth ſtage. The talents and feelings of men, refine gradually under good government: ſocial amuſements begin to make a figure: benevolence is highly regarded; and ſome men are found without gall. Having thus acquired a notion of pure benevolence, and finding it exemplified in ſome perſons, it was an eaſy ſtep in the progreſs of theological opinions, to beſtow the ſame character upon ſome ſuperior beings. This led men to diſtinguiſh their gods into two kinds, eſſentially different; one entirely benevolent, another entirely malevolent; and the difference between good and ill, which are diametrically oppoſite, favoured that diſtinction. Fortunate events out of the common courſe of nature, were accordingly aſcribed to benevolent deities; and unfortunate events of that kind, to [150] malevolent. In the time of Pliny the elder, malevolent deities were worſhipped at Rome. He mentions a temple dedicated to Bad Fortune, another to the diſeaſe termed a Fever. The Lacedemonians worſhipped Death and Fear, and the people of Cadiz Poverty and Old Age; in order to deprecate their wrath. Such gods were by the Romans termed Averrunci, as putting away evil.

Conviction of one ſupreme benevolent Deity, and of inferior deities, ſome benevolent, ſome malevolent, is the fifth ſtage. Such conviction, which gains ground in proportion as morality ripens, ariſes from a remarkable difference between gratitude and fear. Willing to ſhow my gratitude for ſome kindneſs proceeding from an unknown hand, ſeveral perſons occur to my conjectures; but I always fix at laſt upon one perſon as the moſt likely. Fear is of an oppoſite nature: it expands itſelf upon every ſuſpicious perſon, and blackens them all equally. Thus, upon providential good fortune above the power of man, we naturally reſt upon one benevolent Deity as the cauſe; and to him we confine our gratitude and veneration. When, on the other hand, we are ſtruck with an uncommon calamity, every thing that poſſibly may be the cauſe, raiſes terror in us. Hence the propenſity in ſavages to multiply objects of fear; but to confine their gratitude and veneration to a ſingle object. Gratitude and veneration, at the ſame time, are of ſuch a nature, as to raiſe a high opinion of the perſon who is their object; and when a ſingle inviſible being is underſtood to pour out bleſſings with a liberal hand, good men, inflamed with gratitude, put no bounds to the power and benevolence of that being. And thus one ſupreme benevolent Deity comes to be recogniſed among the more enlightened ſavages. With reſpect to [151] malevolent deities, as they are ſuppoſed to be numerous, and as there is no natural impulſe for elevating one above the another, they are all of them held to be of an inferior rank, ſubordinate to the ſupreme Deity.

Unity in the ſupreme being hath, among philoſophers, a more ſolid foundation, viz. unity of deſign and of order in the creation and government of this world*. At the ſame time, the paſſion of gratitude, which leads even ſavages to the attribute of unity in the ſupreme being, prepares the mind for reliſhing the proof of that unity, [...]ounded on the unity of his works.

The belief of one ſupreme benevolent Deity, and of ſubordinate deities benevolent and malevolent, is and has been more univerſal than any other religious creed. I confine myſelf to a few inſtances; for a complete enumeration would be endleſs. The different ſavage tribes in Dutch Guiana, agree pretty much in their articles of faith. They hold the exiſtence of one ſupreme Deity, whoſe chief attribute is benevolence; and to him they aſcribe every good that happens. But as it is againſt his nature to do ill, they believe in ſubordinate malevolent beings, like our devil, who occaſion thunder, hurricanes, earthquakes, and who are the authors of death, diſeaſes, [152] and of every misfortune. To theſe devils termed in their language Yowahoos, they direct every ſupplication, in order to avert their malevolence; while the ſupreme Deity is entirely neglected: ſo much more powerful among ſavageſ, is fear than gratitude. The North-American ſavages have all of them a notion of a ſupreme Deity, creator and governor of the world, and of inferior deities, ſome good, ſome ill. Theſe are ſuppoſed to have bodies, and to live much as men do, but without being ſubjected to any diſtreſs. The ſame creed prevails among the negroes of Benin and Congo, among the people of New Zeland, among the inhabitants of Java, of Madagaſcar, of the Molucca iſlands, and of the Caribbee iſlands. The Chinguleſe, a tribe in the iſland of Ceylon, acknowledge one God creator of the univerſe, with ſubordinate deities who act as his deputies: agriculture is the peculiar province of one, navigation of another. The creed of the Tonquineſe is nearly the ſame. The inhabitants of Otaheite, termed King George's iſland, believe in one ſupreme Deity; and in inferior deities without end, who preſide over particular parts of the creation. They pay no adoration to the ſupreme Deity, thinking him too far elevated above his creatures to concern himſelf with what they do. They believe the ſtars to be children of the ſun and moon, and an eclipſe to be the time of copulation. According to Arnobius, certain Roman deities preſided over the various operations of men. Venus preſided over carnal copulation; Puta aſſiſted at pruning trees; and Peta in requeſting benefits; Nemeſtrinus was god of the woods, Nodutus ripened corn, and Terenſis helped to threſh it; Vibilia aſſiſted travellers; orphans were under the care of Orbona, and dying perſons, of Naenia; Oſſilago [153] hardened the bones of infants; and Mellonia protected bees, and beſtowed ſweetneſs on their honey. The inhabitants of the iſland of Formoſa recogniſe two deities in company; the one a male, god of the men, the other a female goddeſs of the women. The bulk of their inferior deities are the ſouls of upright men, who are conſtantly doing good, and the ſouls of wicked men, who are conſtantly doing ill. The inland negroes acknowledge one ſupreme being, creator of all things; attributing to him infinite power, infinite knowledge, and ubiquity. They believe that the dead are converted into ſpirits, termed by them Iananini, or protectors, being appointed to guard their parents and relations. The ancient Goths, and ſeveral other northern nations, acknowledged one ſupreme being; and at the ſame time worſhipped three ſubordinate deities; Thor, reputed the ſame with Jupiter; Oden, or Woden, the ſame with Mars; and Friga, the ſame with Venus*. Socrates, taking the cup of poiſon from the executioner, held it up toward heaven, and pouring out ſome of it as an oblation to the ſupreme Deity, pronounced the following prayer: ‘"I implore the immortal God that my tranſlation hence may be happy."’ Then turning to Crito, ſaid, ‘"O Crito! I owe a cock to Eſculapius, pay it."’ From this incident we find that Socrates, ſoaring above his countrymen, had attained to the belief of a ſupreme benevolent Deity. But in that dark age of religion, ſuch purity is not to be expected from Socrates himſelf, [154] as to have rejected ſubordinate deities, even of the mercenary kind.

Different offices being aſſigned to the gods, as above mentioned, proper names followed of courſe. And when a god was aſcertained by a name, the buſy mind would naturally proceed to trace his genealogy.

As unity in the Deity was not an eſtabliſhed doctrine in the countries where the Chriſtian religion was firſt promulgated, Chriſtianity could not fail to prevail over Paganiſm; for improvements in the mental faculties lead by ſure ſteps, though ſlow, to one God.

The ſixth ſtage is, the belief of one ſupreme benevolent Deity, as in that immediately foregoing, with many inferior benevolent deities, and one only who is malevolent. As men improve in natural knowledge, and become ſkilful in tracing cauſes from effects, they find much leſs malice and ill-deſign than was imagined: humanity at laſt prevails, which, in connection with improved knowledge, baniſhes the ſuſpicion of ill-deſign, in every caſe where an event can poſſibly be explained without it. In a word, a ſettled opinion of good prevailing in the world, produced conviction among ſome nations, leſs ignorant than their neighbours, and leſs brutal, that there is but one malevolent ſubordinate deity, and good ſubordinate deities without number. The ancient Perſians acknowledged two principles; one all good and all powerful, named Hormuz, and by the Greeks corruptly Oromazes; the other evil, named Ahariman, and by the Greeks Arimanes. Some authors aſſert, that the Perſians held theſe two principles to be coeternal: others, that Oromazes firſt ſubſiſted alone, that he created both light and darkneſs, and that he created Arimanes out of darkneſs. That the latter was [155] the opinion of the ancient Perſians, appears from their Bible, termed the Sadder; which teaches, That there is one God ſupreme over all, many good angels, and but one evil ſpirit. Plutarch acquaints us, that Hormuz and Ahariman, for ever at variance, formed, each of them, creatures of their own ſtamp; that the former created good genii, ſuch as goodneſs, truth, wiſdom, juſtice; and that the latter created evil genii, ſuch as infidelity, falſehood, oppreſſion, theft. This ſyſtem of theology, commonly termed the Manichean ſyſtem, is ſaid to be alſo the religious creed of Pegu, with the following addition, that the evil principle only is to be worſhiped; which is abundantly probable, as fear is a predominant paſſion in barbarians. The people of Florida believe a ſupreme benevolent Deity, and a ſubordinate deity that is malevolent: neglecting the former, who, they ſay, does no harm, they bend their whole attention to ſoften the latter, who, they ſay, torments them day and night. The inhabitants of Darian acknowledge but one evil ſpirit, of whom they are deſperately afraid. The Hottentots, mentioned by ſome writers as altogether deſtitute of religion, are, on the contrary, farther advanced toward its purity, than ſome of their neighbours. Their creed is, That there is a ſupreme being, who is goodneſs itſelf; of whom they have no occaſion to ſtand in awe, as he is incapable by his nature to hurt them; that there is alſo a malevolent ſpirit, ſubordinate to the former, who muſt be ſerved and worſhipped in order to avert his malice. The epicurean doctrine with reſpect to the gods in general, That being happy in themſelves, they extend not their providential care to men, differs not widely from what the Hottentot believes with reſpect to the ſupreme being.

[156] Having traced the ſenſe of deity, from its dawn in the groſſeſt ſavages, to its approaching maturity among enlightened nations, we proceed to the laſt ſtage of the progreſs, which makes the true ſyſtem of theology; and that is, conviction of a ſupreme being, boundleſs in every perfection, without any ſubordinate deities, benevolent or malevolent. Savages learn early to trace the chain of cauſes and effects, with reſpect to ordinary events: they know that faſting produces hunger, that labour occaſions wearineſs, that fire burns, that the ſun and rain contribute to vegetation. But when they go beyond ſuch familiar events, they loſe ſight of cauſe and effect: the changes of weather, of winds, of heat and cold, impreſs them with a notion of chance: earthquakes, hurricanes, ſtorms of thunder and lightning, which fill them with terror, are aſcribed to malignant beings of greater power than man. In the progreſs of knowledge, light begins to break in upon them: they diſcover, that ſuch phenomena, however tremendous, come under the general law of cauſe and effect, and that there is no ground for aſcribing them to malignant ſpirits. At the ſame time, our more refined ſenſes ripen by degrees: ſocial affections come to prevail; and morality makes a deep impreſſion. In maturity of ſenſe and underſtanding, benevolence appears more and more; and beautiful final cauſes are diſcovered in many of nature's productions, that formerly were thought uſeleſs, or perhaps deſtructive: and the time may come, we have ſolid ground to hope that it will come, when doubts and difficulties about the government of Providence, will all of them be cleared up; and every event be found conducive to the general good. Such views of Providence baniſh malevolent deities; and we ſettle at [157] laſt in a moſt comfortable opinion; either that there are no ſuch beings; or that, if they exiſt and are permitted to perpetrate any miſchief, it is in order to produce greater good. Thus, through a long maze of errors, man arrives at true religion, acknowledging but one Being, ſupreme in power, intelligence, and benevolence, who created all other beings, to whom all other beings are ſubjected, and who directs every event to anſwer the beſt purpoſes. This ſyſtem is true theology*.

Having gone through the different ſtages of religious belief, in its gradual progreſs toward truth and purity, I proceed to a very important article, viz. The hiſtory of tutelar deities. The belief of tutelar deities preceded indeed ſeveral of the ſtages mentioned, witneſs the tutelar deities of Greece and Rome; but as it is not connected with any one of them excluſive of the reſt, the clearneſs of method required it to be poſtponed to all of them. This belief, founded on ſelfiſhneſs, made a rapid progreſs after property in the goods of fortune was eſtabliſhed. The Greeks, the Romans, and indeed moſt nations that were not mere ſavages, appropriated to themſelves tutelar deities, who were underſtood to befriend them upon all occaſions; and, in particular, to fight for them againſt their enemies. The Iliad of Homer is full of miraculous battles between the Greeks and Trojans, the tutelar deities mixing with the contending parties, and partaking of every diſaſter, death only excepted, which immortals could [158] not ſuffer. The lares, penates, or houſeholdgods, of Indoſtan, of Greece, and of Rome, bear witneſs, that every family, perhaps every perſon, was thought to be under the protection of a tutelar deity. Alexander ab Alexandro gives a liſt of tutelar deities. Apollo and Minerva were the tutelar deities of Athens; Bacchus and Hercules of the Boeotian Thebes; Juno of Carthage, Samos, Sparta, Argos, and Mycené; Venus of Cyprus; Apollo of Rhodes, and of Delphos; Vulcan of Lemons; Bacchus of Naxus; Neptune of Tenedos, &c. The poets teſtify, that even individuals had tutelar deities:

Mulciber in Trojam, pro Troja ſtabat Apollo:
Aequa Venus Teucris, Pallas iniqua fuit.
Oderat Aeneam, propior Saturnia Turno;
Ille tamen Veneris numine tutus erat.
Saepe ferox cautum petiit Neptunus Ulyſſem;
Eripuit patruo ſaepe Minerva ſuo* a.

Though the North-American ſavages recogniſe a ſupreme Being, wiſe and benevolent, and alſo ſubordinate benevolent beings who are intruſted with the government of the world; yet as the great diſtance of theſe ſubordinate beings, and the full occupation they have in general government, are ſuppoſed to make them overlook individuals, every [159] man has a tutelar deity of his own termed Manitou, who is conſtantly invoked during war to give him victory over his enemies. The Natches, bordering on the Miſſiſippi, offer up the ſkulls of their enemies to their god, and depoſite them in his temple. They conſider that being as their tutelar deity who aſſiſts them againſt their enemies, and to whom therefore the ſkull of an enemy muſt be an acceptable offering. Though they worſhip the ſun, who impartially ſhines on all mankind; yet ſuch is their partiality, that they conſider themſelves as his choſen people, and that their enemies are his enemies.

A belief ſo abſurd ſhows woful imbecility in human nature. Is it not obvious, that the great God of heaven and earth, governs the world by inflexible laws, from whence he never can ſwerve in any caſe, becauſe they are the beſt poſſible in every caſe? To ſuppoſe any family or nation to be an object of his peculiar love, is no leſs impious, than to ſuppoſe any family or nation to be an object of his peculiar hatred: they equally arraign Providence of partiality. Even the Goths had more juſt notions of the Deity. Totila, recommending to his people juſtice and humanity, ſays, ‘"Quare ſic habete, ea quae amari ab hominibus ſolent ita vobis ſalva fore, ſi juſtitiae reverentiam ſervaveritis. Si tranſitis in mores alios, etiam Deum ad hoſtes tranſiturum. Neque enim ille, aut omnibus omnino hominibus, aut uni alicui genti, addicit ſe ſocium*."’

[160] That God was once the tutelar deity of the Jews, is true; but not in the vulgar acceptation of that term, importing a deity choſen by a people to be their patron and protector. The orthodox faith is, ‘"That God choſe the Jews as his peculiar people, not from any partiality to them, but that there might be one nation to keep alive the knowledge of one ſupreme Deity; which ſhould be proſperous while they adhered to him, and unproſperous when they declined to idolatry; not only in order to make them perſevere in the true faith, but alſo in order to exemplify to all nations the conduct of his Providence."’ It is certain, however, that the perverſe Jews claimed God Almighty as their tutelar deity, in the vulgar acceptation of the term. And this error throws light upon an incident related in the Acts of the Apoſtles. There was a prophecy firmly believed by the Jews, that the Meſſiah would come among them in perſon to reſtore their kingdom. The Chriſtians gave a different ſenſe to the prophecy, viz. that the kingdom promiſed was not of this world. And they ſaid, that Chriſt was ſent to pave the way to their heavenly kingdom, by obtaining forgiveneſs of their ſins. At the ſame time, as the Jews held all other nations in abhorrence, it was natural for them to conclude, that the Meſſiah would be ſent to them only, God's choſen people; for which reaſon, even the apoſtles were at firſt doubtful [161] about preaching the goſpel to any but to the Jewsa. But the apoſtles reflecting, that it was one great purpoſe of the miſſion, to baniſh from the Jews their groveling and impure notion of a tutelar deity, and to proclaim a ſtate of future happineſs to all who believe in Chriſt, they proceeded to preach the goſpel to all men: ‘"Then Peter opened his mouth, and ſaid, Of a truth I perceive, that God is no reſpecter of perſons: but in every nation, he that feareth him, and worketh righteouſneſs, is accepted with himb."’ The foregoing reaſoning, however, did not ſatisfy the Jews: they could not digeſt the opinion, that God ſent his Meſſiah to ſave all nations; and that he was the God of the Gentiles as well as of the Jews. They ſtormed againſt Paul in particular for inculcating that doctrinec.

Conſidering that religion in its purity was eſtabliſhed by the goſpel, is it not amazing, that even Chriſtians fell back to the worſhip of tutelar deities? They did not indeed adopt the abſurd opinion, that the ſupreme Being was their tutelar deity: but they held, that there are divine perſons ſubordinate to the Almighty, who take under their care nations, families, and even individuals; an opinion that differs not eſſentially from that of tutelar deities among the Heathens. That opinion, which flatters ſelf-love, took root in the fifth century, when the deification of ſaints was introduced, [162] ſimilar to the deification of heroes among the ancients. With regard to matters ſpiritual, as well as temporal, people are fond of friends to be their interceſſors; and with regard to the Deity, deified ſaints were thought the propereſt interceſſors. Temples were built and dedicated to them, and ſolemn rites of worſhip inſtituted to render them propitious. It was imagined, that the ſouls of deified ſaints are at liberty to roam where they liſt, and that they love the places where their bodies are interred; which accordingly made the ſepulchres of the ſaints a common rendezvous of ſupplicants. What paved the way to notions ſo abſurd, was the groſs ignorance that clouded the Chriſtian world after the northern barbarians became maſters of Europe. In the ſeventh century, the biſhops were ſo illiterate as to be indebted to others for the ſhallow ſermons they preached; and the very few of that order who had any learning, ſatisfied themſelves with compoſing inſipid homilies, collected from the writings of Auguſtin and Gregory. In the ninth century, matters grew worſe and worſe; for theſe ſaints, held at firſt to be mediators for Chriſtians in general, were now converted into tutelar deities in the ſtricteſt ſenſe. An opinion prevailed, that ſuch ſaints as are occupied about the ſouls of Chriſtians in general, have little time for individuals; which led every church, and every private Chriſtian, to elect for themſelves a particular ſaint, as their peculiar patron or tutelar deity. That practice made it neceſſary to deify ſaints without end, in order to furniſh a tutelar deity to every individual. The dubbing of ſaints, became a new ſource of abuſes and frauds in the Chriſtian world: lying wonders were invented, and fabulous hiſtories compoſed, to celebrate exploits that never were performed, and to glorify perſons that never [163] had a being. And thus religion among Chriſtians, ſunk down into as low a ſtate as it had been among Pagans.

There ſtill remains upon hand a capital branch of our hiſtory; and that is idolatry, which properly ſignifies the worſhipping viſible objects as deities. But as idolatry evidently ſprung from religious worſhip, corrupted by the ignorant and brutiſh, it will make its appearance with more advantage in the next ſection, of which religious worſhip is the ſubject.

We have thus traced with wary ſteps, the gradual progreſs of theology through many ſtages, correſponding to the gradual openings and improvements of the human mind. But though that progreſs in almoſt all countries appears uniform with reſpect to the order of ſucceſſion, it is far otherwiſe with reſpect to the quickneſs of ſucceſſion: nations, like individuals, make a progreſs from infancy to maturity; but they advance not with an equal pace, ſome making a rapid courſe toward perfection in knowledge and in religion, while others remain ignorant barbarians. The religion of Hindoſtan, if we credit hiſtory or tradition, had advanced to a conſiderable degree of purity and refinement, at a very early period. The Hindoſtan Bible, termed Chatahbhade or Shaſtah, gives an account of the creation, lapſe of the angels, and creation of man; inſtructs us in the unity of the Deity, but denies his preſcience as being inconſiſtent with free-will in man; all of them profound doctrines of an illuminated people; to eſtabliſh which a long courſe of time muſt have been requiſite, after wandering through errors without number. Compared with the Hindows in theology, even the Greeks were mere ſavages. The Grecian gods were held to be little better than men, and their hiſtory, as [164] above mentioned, correſponds to the notion entertained of them.

In explaining the opinions of men with reſpect to Deity, I have confined my view to ſuch opinions as are ſuggeſted by principles or biaſſes that make a part of common nature; omitting many whimſical notions, no better than dreams of a roving imagination. The plan delineated ſhows wonderful uniformity in the progreſs of religion through all nations. That the whimſical notions mentioned are far otherwiſe, is not wonderful. Take the following ſpecimen. The Kamſkatkans are not ſo ſtupidly ignorant, as to be altogether void of curioſity. They ſometimes think of natural appearances.—Rain, ſay they, is ſome deity piſſing upon them; and they imagine the rainbow to be a party-coloured garment, put on by him in preparing for that operation. They believe wind to be produced by a god ſhaking his long hair about his head with violence. Such tales will ſcarce amuſe children in the nurſery. The inhabitants of the iſland Celebes formerly acknowledged no gods but the ſun and the moon, which were held to be eternal. Ambition for ſuperiority made them fall out. The moon being wounded in flying from the ſun, was delivered of the earth.

Hitherto of the gradual openings of the human mind with reſpect to Deity. I cloſe this ſection with an account of ſome unſound notions concerning the conduct of Providence, and concerning ſome ſpeculative matters. I begin with the former.

In days of ignorance, the conduct of Providence is very little underſtood. Far from having any notion, than the government of this world is carried on by general laws, which are inflexible becauſe they are the beſt poſſible, every important [165] event is attributed to an immediate interpoſition of the Deity. As the Grecian gods were thought to have bodies like men, and like men to require nouriſhment; they were imagined to act like men, forming ſhort-ſighted plans of operation, and varying them from time to time according to exigencies. Even the wiſe Athenians, had an utter averſion for philoſophers who attempted to account for effects by general laws: ſuch doctrine they thought tended to fetter the gods, and to prevent them from governing events at their pleaſure. An eclipſe being held to be a prognoſtic given by the gods of ſome grievous calamity, Anaxagoras was accuſed of Atheiſm for attempting to explain the eclipſe of the moon by natural cauſes: he was thrown into priſon, and with difficulty was relieved by the influence of Pericles. Protagoras was baniſhed Athens for maintaining the ſame doctrine. Procopius overflows with ſignal interpoſitions of Providence; and Agathias, beginning at the battle of Marathon, ſagely maintains, that from that time downward, there was not a battle loſt, but by an immediate judgment of God, for the ſins of the commander, or of his army, or of one perſon or other. Our Saviour's doctrine with reſpect to thoſe who ſuffered by the fall of the tower of Siloam, ought to have opened their eyes; but ſuperſtitious eyes are never opened by inſtruction. At the ſame time, it is deplorable that ſuch belief has no good influence on manners: on the contrary, never doth wickedneſs ſo much abound as in dark times. A curious fact is related by Procopiusa with reſpect to that ſort of ſuperſtition. When Rome was beſieged by the Goths, and in danger of deſtruction, [166] a part of the town-wall, declining from the perpendicular, was in a tottering condition. Beliſarius, propoſing to fortify it, was oppoſed by the citizens, affirming, that it was guarded by St. Peter. Procopius obſerves, that the event anſwered expectation; for that the Goths, during a tedious ſiege, never once attempted that weak part. He adds, that the wall remained in the ſame ruinous ſtate at the time of his writing. Here is a curious conceit:—Peter created a tutelar deity, able and willing, for the ſake of his votaries, to counteract the laws by which God governs the material world. And for what mighty benefit to them? Only to ſave them five or fifty pounds in rebuilding the crazy part of the wall.

It is no leſs inconſiſtent with the regular courſe of Providence, to believe, as many formerly did, that in all doubtful caſes the Almighty, when appealed to, never fails to interpoſe in favour of the right ſide. The inhabitants of Conſtantinople, ann. 1284, being ſplit into parties about two contending patriarchs, the Emperor ordered a fire to be made in the church of St Sophia, and a memorial from each party to be thrown into it; never doubting, but that God would ſave from the flames the memorial of the party whoſe cauſe he eſpouſed. But, to the utter aſtoniſhment of all beholders, the flames paid not the leaſt regard to either of the memorials. The ſame abſurd opinion gave birth to the trial by fire, by water, and by ſingular battle. And it is not a little remarkable, that ſuch trials were common among many nations that had no intercourſe one with another: even the enlightened people of Indoſtan try crimes by dipping the hand of a ſuſpected perſon in boiling oil.—Such uniformity is there with reſpect even to ſuperſtitious [167] opinions. Pope Gregory VII. inſiſting, that the Kings of Caſtile and Aragon ſhould lay aſide their Gothic liturgy for the Romiſh, the matter was put to trial by ſingular battle; and two champions were choſen, to declare by victory the opinion of God Almighty. The Emperor Otho I. obſerving the doctors to differ about a a point of law, viz. the right of repreſentation in land-eſtates, appointed a duel; and the right of repreſentation gained the victory. If any thing can render ſuch a doctrine palatable, it is the believing in a tutelar deity, who with leſs abſurdity may interpoſe in behalf of a favourite opinion, or of a favourite people. Appian gravely reports, that when the city of Rhodes was beſieged by Mithridates, a ſtatue of the goddeſs Iſis was ſeen to dart flames of fire upon a bulky engine, raiſed by the beſiegers to overtop the wall.

Hiſtorians mention an incident that happened in the iſland Celebes, founded on a belief of the ſame kind with that above mentioned. About two centuries ago, ſome Chriſtian and ſome Mahometan miſſionaries made their way to that iſland. The chief king, ſtruck with the fear of hell taught by both, aſſembled a general council; and extending his hands toward heaven, addreſſed the following prayer to the ſupreme being. ‘"Great God, from thee I demand nothing but juſtice, and to me thou oweſt it. Men of different religions have come to this iſland, threatening eternal puniſhment to me and my people if we diſobey thy laws. What are thy laws? Speak, O my God, who art the author of nature: thou knoweſt the bottom of our hearts, and that we can never intentionally diſobey thee. But if it be unworthy of thy eſſence to employ the language of men, I call upon my whole people, the ſun which gives [168] me light, the earth which bears me, the ſea which ſurrounds my empire, and upon thee thyſelf, to bear witneſs for me, that in the ſincerity of my heart I wiſh to know thy will; and this day I declare, that I will acknowledge as the depoſitaries of thy oracles, the firſt miniſters of either religion that ſhall land on this iſland."’

It is equally erroneous to believe, that certain ceremonies will protect one from miſchief. In the dark ages of Chriſtianity, the ſigning with the figure of a croſs, was held not only to be an antidote againſt the ſnares of malignant ſpirits, but to inſpire reſolution for ſupporting trials and calamities: for which reaſon no Chriſtian in thoſe days undertook any thing of moment, till he had uſed that ceremony. It was firmly believed in France, that a gold or ſilver coin of St Louis, hung from the neck, was a protection againſt all diſeaſes: and we find accordingly a hole in every remaining coin of that king, for fixing it to a riband. In the minority of Charles VIII. of France the three eſtates, ann. 1484, ſupplicated his Majeſty, that he would no longer defer the being anointed with the holy oil, as the favour of Heaven was viſibly connected with that ceremony. They affirmed, that his grandfather Charles VII. never proſpered till he was anointed; and that Heaven afterward fought on his ſide, till the Engliſh were expelled out of his kingdom. The high altar of St Margaret's church in the iſland of Icolmkill, was covered with a plate of blue marble finely veined; which has ſuffered from a ſuperſtitious conceit, that the ſmalleſt bit of it will preſerve a ſhip from ſinking. It has accordingly been carried off piece-meal; and at preſent there is ſcarce enough left-to make an experiment. In the Sadder, certain prayers are enjoined [169] when one ſneezes or piſſes, in order to chaſe away the devil. Cart-wheels in Liſbon are compoſed of two boards clumſily cut in a circular form, and nailed together. Though the noiſe is intolerable, yet the axles are never greaſed, becauſe the noiſe, ſay they, frightens the devil from hurting their oxen.

Nay, ſo far has ſuperſtition been carried, as to found a belief, that the devil by magic can control the courſe of Providence. A Greek biſhop having dreamed, that a certain miracle had failed by magic, the ſuppoſed magician and his ſon were condemned to die, without the leaſt evidence but the dream. Monteſquieu collects a number of circumſtances, each of which, though all extremely improbable, ought to have been clearly made out, in order to prove the crimea. The Emperor Theodore Laſcaris, imagining magic to be the cauſe of his diſtemper, put the perſons ſuſpected to the trial of holding a red-hot iron without being burnt. In the capitularies of Charlemagne, in the canons of ſeveral councils, and in the ancient laws of Norway puniſhments are enacted againſt thoſe who are ſuppoſed able to raiſe tempeſts, Tempeſtarii. During the time of Catharine de Medicis, in the court of France there was a jumble of politics, gallantry, luxury, debauchery, ſuperſtition, and Atheiſm. It was common to take the reſemblance of enemies in wax, in order to torment them by roaſting the figure at a ſlow fire, and pricking it with needles. If an enemy happened in one inſtance of a thouſand to pine and die, the charm was eſtabliſhed for ever. Sorcery and witchcraft were ſo univerſally believed in England, [170] that in a preamble to a ſtatute of Henry VIII. ann. 1511, it is ſet forth, ‘"That ſmiths, weavers, and women, boldly take upon them great cures, in which they partly uſe ſorcery, and witchcraft."’ The firſt printers, who were Germans, having carried their books to Paris for ſale, were condemned by the parliament to be burnt alive as ſorcerers; and did not eſcape puniſhment but by a precipitant flight. It had indeed much the appearance of ſorcery, that a man could write ſo many copies of a book, without the ſlighteſt variation.

There are many examples of extraordinary virtues being attributed to certain things, in themſelves of no ſignificancy. The Hungarians were poſſeſſed of a golden crown, ſent from heaven with the peculiar virtue, as they believed, of beſtowing upon the perſon who wore it, an undoubted title to be their king.

But the moſt extraordinary effort of abſurd ſuperſtition, is a perſuaſion, that one may control the courſe of Providence, by making a downright bargain with God Almighty to receive from him quid pro quo. A herd of Tartars in Siberia, named by the Ruſſians Baravinſkoi, have in every hut a wooden idol, termed in their language Sheitan, about eighteen inches high, to which they addreſs their prayers for plenty of game in hunting, promiſing to give it, if ſucceſsful, a new coat or a new bonnet: a ſort of bargain abundantly brutiſh; and yet more excuſable in mere ſavages, than what is made with the Virgin Mary by enlightened Roman Catholics; who, upon condition of her relieving them from diſtreſs, promiſe her a waxen taper to burn on her altar. Philip II. of Spain made a vow, that, upon condition of gaining the battle of St Quintin, he would build the Monaſtery of Eſcurial; as if an [171] eſtabliſhment for ſome idle monks, could be a motive with the great God to vary the courſe of his Providence*. Beſide the abſurdity of thinking that ſuch vows can have the effect to alter the eſtabliſhed laws of Providence, they betray a moſt contemptible notion of the Deity, as if his favours, like a horſe, or a cow, could be purchaſed with money.

But however looſe and disjointed, events appear to the ignorant, when viewed as paſt, or as paſſing, future events take on a very differert appearance. The doctrine of prognoſtics is evidently founded upon a ſuppoſition, that future events are unalterably fixed; for otherwiſe that doctrine would appear abſurd, even to the moſt ignorant. There is no bias in human nature that has greater influence, than curioſity about futurity; which in dark ages governs without control: men with no leſs folly than induſtry have ranſacked the earth, the ſea, the air, and even the ſtars, for prognoſtics of future events. The Greeks had their oracles, the Romans their augurs, and all the world their omens. The Grecian oracles and Roman auguries are evidently built upon their belief of tutelar deities; and the numberleſs omens that influence weak people in every country, ſeem to reſt upon the [172] ſame foundation*. Ancient hiſtories are ſtuffed with omens, prodigies, and prognoſtics: Livy overflows with fooleries of that kind. Endleſs are the adverſe omens reported by Appian of Alexandria, that are ſaid to have given warning of the defeat of Craſſus by the Parthians; and no fewer in number are thoſe which happened at the death of the Emperor Hadrian, if we believe Spartianus. Lampridius, with great gravity, recites the omens which prognoſticated that Alexander Severus would be Emperor: he was born the ſame day on which Alexander the Great died: he was brought forth in a temple dedicated to Alexander the Great: he was named Alexander; and an old woman gave to his mother, a pigeon's egg of a purple colour produced on his birth-day. A comet is an infallible prognoſtic of the death of a king. But of what king? Why, of the king who dies next. Suetonius, with the ſolemnity of a pulpit-inſtructor, informs us, that the death of the Emperor Claudius was predicted by a comet; and of Tiberius, by the fall of a tower during an earthquake. Such opinions, which indeed have ſome foundation in our nature, take faſt hold of the mind, when envigorated by education and example. Even philoſophy is not ſufficient to eradicate them but by ſlow degrees: witneſs Tacitus, the moſt profound [173] of all hiſtorians, who cannot forbear to uſher in the death of the Emperor Otho, with a fooliſh account of a ſtrange unknown bird appearing at that time. He indeed, with decent reſerve, mentions it only as a fact reported by others; but from the warm ſtyle of his narrative it is evident, that the ſtory had made an impreſſion upon him. The ancient Germans drew many of their omens from horſes: ‘"Proprium gentis, equorum preſagia ac monitus experiri. Publice aluntur iiſdem nemoribus ac lucis, candide, et nullo mortali opere contacti, quos preſſos ſacro curru, ſacerdos, ac rex, vel princeps civitatis, comitantur, hinnituſque ac fremitus obſervant. Nec ulli auſpicio major fides, non ſolum apud plebem, ſed apud proceres, apud ſacerdotes* a."’ There is ſcarce a thing ſeen or imagined, but what the inhabitants of Madagaſcar conſider as a prognoſtic of ſome future event. The Hindows rely on the augury of birds, preciſely as the old Romans did. Tho' there is not the ſlighteſt probability, that an impending misfortune was ever prevented by ſuch prognoſtics; yet the deſire of knowing [174] future events is ſo deeply rooted in our nature, that omens will always prevail among the vulgar, in ſpight of the cleareſt light of philoſophy*.

With reſpect to prophecies in particular, one appology may be made for them, that no other prognoſtic of futurity is leſs apt to do miſchief. What Procopiusa obſerves of the Sybilline oracles, is equally applicable to prophecies in general, ‘"That it is above the ſagacity of man to explain any of them before the event happen."’ After peruſing many, he gives the following reaſon, ‘"Matters are there handled,"’ ſays he, ‘"not in any order, nor in a continued diſcourſe: but after mentioning the diſtreſſes of Africa, for example, they give a ſlight touch at the Perſians, the Romans, the Aſſyrians; then returning to the Romans, they fall ſlap-daſh upon the calamities of Britain."’ A curious example of this obſervation, is a book of prophecies compoſed in Scotland by Thomas Learmont, commonly called Thomas the Rhymer, becauſe the book is in rhyme. Plutarch, in the life of Cicero, reports, that a ſpectre appeared to Cicero's nurſe, and foretold, that the child would become a great ſupport to the Roman [175] ſtate; and moſt innocently he makes the following reflection: ‘"This might have paſſed for an idle tale, had not Cicero demonſtrated the truth of the prediction;"’ which in effect is ſaying, that if a prediction happen to prove ture, it is a real prophecy; if otherwiſe, that it is an idle tale. There have been prophecies not altogether ſo well guarded as the Sybilline oracles. Napier, inventor of the logarithms, found the day of judgment predicted in the Revelation; and named the very day; which unfortunately he ſurvived. He made another prediction, but prudently named a day ſo diſtant, as to be in no hazard of bluſhing a ſecond time. Michel Stifels, a German clergyman, ſpent moſt of his life in attempting to diſcover the day of judgment; and at laſt announced to his pariſhioners, that it would happen within a year. The pariſhioners, reſolving to make the beſt of a bad bargain, ſpent their time merrily, taking no care to lay up proviſions for another year; and ſo nice was their calculation, as at the end of the year to have not a morſel remaining, either of food or of induſtry. The famous Jurieu has ſhewn great ingenuity in explaining prophecies; of which take the following inſtance. In his book, intitled, Accompliſhment of the prophecies, he demonſtrates, that the beaſt in the Apocalypſe, which held the poculum aureum plenum abominationum *, is the Pope; and his reaſon is, that the initial letters of theſe four Latin words compoſe the word papa; a very ſingular prophecy indeed; that is a prophecy in Latin, but in no other language. The candid reader will advert, that ſuch prophecies as relate [170] to our Saviour, and tend to aſcertain the truth of his miſſion, fall not under the foregoing reaſoning; for they do not anticipate futurity, by producing foreknowledge of future events. They were not underſtood till our Saviour appeared among men; and then they were clearly underſtood as relative to him.

There is no end of ſuperſtition in its various modes. It was believed univerſally in dark times, that by certain forms and invocations, the ſpirits of the dead could be called upon to reveal future events. A lottery in Florence, gainful to the government, and ruinous to the people, gives great ſcope to ſuperſtition. The purchaſer of tickets, in order to be ſucceſsful, muſt faſt ſix and thirty hours, muſt repeat a certain number of Ave Maries and Pater Noſters, muſt not ſpeak to a living creature, muſt not go to bed, muſt continue in prayer to the Virgin, and to ſaints, till ſome propitious ſaint appear and declare the numbers that are to be ſucceſsful. The ticket-holder, fatigued with faſting, praying, and expectation, falls aſleep. Occupied with the thoughts he had when awake, he dreams that a ſaint appears, and mentions the numbers that are to be ſucceſsful. If he be diſappointed, he is vexed at his want of memory; but truſts in the ſaint as an infallible oracle. Again he buys tickets, again falls aſleep, again ſees a viſion, and again is diſappointed.

Lucky and unlucky days, which were ſo much relied on as even to be marked in the Greek and Roman calendars, make an appendix to prophecies. The Tartars never undertake any thing of moment on a Wedneſday, being held by them unlucky. The Nogayan Tartars hold every thirteenth year to be unlucky: they will not even wear a ſword that year, believing that it would [177] be their death; and they maintain, that none of their warriors ever returned who went upon an expedition in one of theſe years. They paſs that time in faſting and prayer, and during it never marry. The inhabitants of Madagaſcar have days fortunate and unfortunate with reſpect to the birth of children: they deſtroy without mercy every child that is born on an unfortunate day.

I cloſe this important article with a reflection that ought to make an impreſſion upon every rational mind. The knowledge of future events, as far as it tends to influence our conduct, is inconſiſtent with a ſtate of trial, ſuch as Providence has allotted to man in this life. It would deprive him of hopes and fears, and leave him nothing to deliberate upon, nor any end to proſecute. In a word, it would put an end to his activity, and reduce him to be merely a paſſive being. Providence therefore has wiſely drawn a veil over future events, affording us no light for prying into them but ſagacity and experience.

Theſe are a few of the numberleſs abſurd opinions about the conduct of Providence, that have prevailed among Chriſtians, and ſtill prevail among ſome of them. Many opinions no leſs abſurd have prevailed about ſpeculative points. I confine myſelf to one or two inſtances; for to make a complete liſt would require a volume. The firſt I ſhall mention, and the moſt noted, is tranſubſtantiation; which though it has not the leaſt influence on practice, is reckoned ſo eſſential to ſalvation, as to be placed above every moral duty. The following text is appealed to as the ſole foundation of that article of faith. ‘"And as they were eating, Jeſus took bread, and bleſſed it, and brake it, and gave it to the diſciples, and ſaid, Take, eat; this is my body. [178] And he took the cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to them, ſaying, Drink ye all of it: for this is my blood of the new teſtament, which is ſhed for many for the remiſſion of ſins. But I ſay unto you, I will not drink henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdoma."’ That this is a metaphor, muſt ſtrike every one: the paſſage cannot even bear a literal meaning, conſidering the final clauſe; for ſurely the moſt zealous Roman believes not, that Chriſtians are to drink new wine with their Saviour in the kingdom of heaven. At the ſame time, it is not ſo much as inſinuated, that there was here any miraculous tranſubſtantiation of the bread and wine into the body and blood of our Saviour; nor is it inſinuated, that the apoſtles believed they were eating the ſleſh of their maſter, and drinking his blood. St. John, the favourite apoſtle, mentions not a word of this ceremony, which he certainly would not have omitted, had he imagined it an eſſential article of faith.

But ſuppoſing tranſubſtantiation to be more clearly expreſſed in this text, than it really is; yet men of good underſtanding will be loth to admit a meaning that contradicts their five ſenſes. They will reflect, that no man now living ever ſaw the original books of the new teſtament; nor are they certain, that the editions we have, are copied directly from the originals. Every remove from them is liable to errors, which may juſtly create a ſuſpicion of every text that contradicts reaſon and common ſenſe. Add, that the bulk of Chriſtians have not even a copy from the original [179] to build their faith upon, but only a tranſlation into another language.

And this leads to what chiefly determined me to ſelect that inſtance. God and nature have beſtowed upon us the faculty of reaſoning, for diſtinguiſhing truth from faſehood. If by reaſoning with candor and impartiality, we diſcover a propoſition to be true or falſe, it is not in our power to remain indifferent: we muſt judge, and according to our judgment we muſt pronounce. I ſay more, to pronounce is a duty we owe to our Maker; for to what purpoſe has he beſtowed reaſon upon us, but in order to direct our belief? At the ſame time, we may depend on it as an intuitive truth, that God will never impoſe any belief on us, contradictory not only to our reaſon, but to our ſenſes.

The following objection however will perhaps reliſh more with people of plain underſtanding. Tranſubſtantiation is a very extraordinary miracle, reiterated every day and in every corner of the earth, by prieſts not always remarkable either for piety or for morality. Now I demand an anſwer to the following plain queſtion: To what good end or purpoſe is ſuch a profuſion of miracles ſubſervient? I ſee none. But I diſcover a very bad one, if they have any influence; which is, that they accuſtom the Roman Catholics to more cruelty and barbarity, than even the groſſeſt ſavages are ever guilty of: ſome of them indeed devour the fleſh of their enemies; but none of them, the fleſh of their friends, eſpecially their greateſt friend. But to do juſtice to people of that religion, I am confident, that this ſuppoſed miracle has no influence whatever upon their manners: to me it appears impoſſible for any man ſeriouſly to believe, that the bread and wine uſed at the Lord's ſupper, is actually converted [180] into the body and blood of our Saviour. The Romiſh church requires the belief of tranſubſtantiation; and a zealous Catholic, out of pure obedience, thinks he believes it. Convince once a man that ſalvation depends on belief, and he will believe any thing; that is, he will imagine that he believes: Credo quia impoſſibile eſt *.

That our firſt reformers, who were prone to differ from the Romiſh faith, ſhould adopt this doctrine, ſhows the ſupreme influence of ſuperſtition. The Lutherans had not even the excuſe of inattention: after ſerious examination, they added one abſurdity more; teaching, that the [181] bread and wine are converted into the body and blood of our Saviour, and yet remain bread and wine as at firſt; which is termed by them conſubſtantiation. I am perſuaded, that at this time not a ſingle man of them harbours ſuch a thought.

Many perſons, proof againſt a ſerious argument, are ſufficiently clear-ſighted to diſcover falſehood when put in a ridiculous light. It requires, I am ſenſible, a very delicate hand to attack a grave ſubject with ridicule as a teſt of truth; and for that reaſon, I forbear to offer any thing of my own. But I will ſet before my readers ſome excerpts from a book of abſolute authority with Roman Catholics. Though tranſubſtantiation be there handled in the moſt ſerious manner, with all the ceremonies and punctilios that naturally flow from it, yet to my taſte, nothing can be contrived to give it a more ridiculous appearance. The book is the Roman Miſſal, from which the following is a literal tranſlation.

"Maſs may be deficient in the matter, in the form, in the miniſter, or in the action. Firſt, in the matter. If the bread be not of wheat, or if there be ſo great a mixture of other grain that it cannot be called wheat-bread, or if any way corrupted, it does not make a ſacrament. If it be made with roſe-water, or any other diſtilled water, it is doubtful whether it make a ſacrament or not. Though corruption have begun, or though it be leavened, it makes a ſacrament, but the celebrator ſins grievouſly."

"If the celebrator, before conſecration, obſerve that the hoſt is corrupted, or is not of wheat, he muſt take another hoſt: if after conſecration, he muſt ſtill take another and [182] ſwallow it, after which he muſt alſo ſwallow the firſt, or give it to another, or preſerve it in ſome place with reverence. But if he have ſwallowed the firſt before obſerving its defects, he muſt nevertheleſs ſwallow alſo the perfect hoſt; becauſe the precept about the perfection of the ſacrament, is of greater weight than that of taking it faſting. If the conſecrated hoſt diſappear by an accident, as by wind, by a miracle, or by ſome animal, another muſt be conſecrated."

"If the wine be quite ſour or putrid, or made of unripe grapes, or be mixed with ſo much water as to ſpoil the wine, it is no ſacrament. If the wine have begun to ſour or to be corrupted, or be quite new, or not mixed with water, or mixed with roſe-water or other diſtilled water, it makes a ſacrament, but the celebrator ſins grievouſly."

"If the prieſt, before conſecration, obſerve that the materials are not proper, he muſt ſtop, if proper materials cannot be got; but after conſecration, he muſt proceed, to avoid giving ſcandal. If proper materials can be procured by waiting, he muſt wait for them, that the ſacrifice may not remain imperfect."

"Second, in form. If any of the words of conſecration be omitted, or any of them be changed into words of a different meaning, it is no ſacrament: if they be changed into words of the ſame meaning, it makes a ſacrament; but the celebrator ſins grievouſly."

"Third, in the miniſter. If he does not intend to make a ſacrament, but to cheat; if there be any part of the wine, or any water that he has not in his eye, and does not intend to conſecrate; if he have before him eleven [183] wafers, and intends to conſecrate only ten, not determining what ten he intends: in theſe caſes the conſecration does not hold, becauſe intention is requiſite. If he think there are ten only, and intends to conſecrate all before him, they are all conſecrated; therefore prieſts ought always to have ſuch intention. If the prieſt, thinking he has but one wafer, ſhall, after the conſecration, find two ſticking together, he muſt take them both. And he muſt take off all the remains of the conſecrated matter; for they all belong to the ſame ſacrifice. If in conſecrating, the intention be not actual by wandering of mind, but virtual in approaching the altar, it makes a ſacrament: though prieſts ſhould be careful to have intention both virtual and actual."

"Beſide intention, the prieſt may be deficient in diſpoſition of mind. If he be ſuſpended, or degraded, or excommunicated, or under mortal ſin, he makes a ſacrament, but ſins grievouſly. He may be deficient alſo in diſpoſition of body. If he have not faſted from midnight, if he have taſted water, or any other drink or meat, even in the way of medicine, he cannot celebrate nor communicate. If he have taken meat or drink before midnight, even though he have not ſlept nor digeſted it, he does not ſin. But on account of the perturbation of mind, which bars devotion, it is prudent to refrain."

"If any remains of meat, ſticking in the mouth, be ſwallowed with the hoſt, they do not prevent communicating, provided they be ſwallowed, not as meat, but as ſpittle. The ſame is to be ſaid, if in waſhing the mouth a drop of water be ſwallowed, provided it be againſt our will."

[184] "Fourth, in the action. If any requiſite be wanting, it is no ſacrament; for example, if it be celebrated out of holy ground, or upon an altar not conſecrated, or not covered with three napkins; if there be no wax candles; if it be not celebrated between day-break and noon; if the celebrator have not ſaid mattins with lauds; if he omit any of the ſacerdotal robes; if theſe robes and the napkins be not bleſſed by a biſhop; if there be no clerk preſent to ſerve, or one who ought not to ſerve, a woman for example; if there be no chalice, the cup of which is gold, or ſilver, or pewter; if the veſtment be not of clean linen adorned with ſilk in the middle, and bleſſed by a biſhop; if the prieſt celebrate with his head covered; if there be no miſſal preſent, though he have it by heart."

"If a gnat or ſpider fall into the cup after conſecration, the prieſt muſt ſwallow it with the blood, if he can: otherwiſe, let him take it out, waſh it with wine, burn it, and throw it with the waſhings into holy ground. If poiſon fall into the cup, the blood muſt be poured on tow or on a linen cloth, remain till it be dry, then be burnt, and the aſhes be thrown upon holy ground. If the hoſt be poiſoned, it muſt be kept in a tabernacle till it be corrupted."

"If the blood freeze in winter, put warm cloths about the cup: if that be not ſufficient, the cup in boiling water."

"If any of Chriſt's blood fall on the ground by negligence, it muſt be licked up with the tongue, and the place ſcraped: the ſcrapings muſt be burnt, and the aſhes buried in holy ground."

[185] "If the prieſt vomit the euchariſt, and the ſpecies appear entire, it muſt be licked up moſt reverently. If a nauſea prevent that to be done, it muſt be kept till it be corrupted. If the ſpecies do not appear, let the vomit be burnt, and the aſhes thrown upon holy ground."

As the foregoing article has beyond intention ſwelled to an enormous ſize, I ſhall add but one other article, which, at the ſame time, ſhall be extremely ſhort; and that is the creed of Athanaſius. It is a heap of unintelligible jargon; and yet we are appointed to believe every article of it, under the pain of eternal damnation. As it enjoins belief of rank contradictions, it ſeems purpoſely calculated to be a teſt of ſlaviſh ſubmiſſion to the tyrannical authority of a proud and arrogant prieſt*.

CHAP. III.
RELIGIOUS WORSHIP.

IN the foregoing chapter are traced the gradual advances of the ſenſe of Deity, from its imperfect ſtate among ſavages to its maturity among [186] enlightened nations, diſplaying to us one great being to whom all other beings owe their exiſtence, who made the world, and who governs it by the moſt perfect laws. And our perception of Deity, ariſing from that ſenſe, is fortified by an intuitive propoſition, that there neceſſarily muſt exiſt ſome being who had no beginning. Conſidering the Deity as the author of our exiſtence, we owe him gratitude; conſidering him as governor of the world, we owe him obedience: and upon theſe duties is founded the obligation we are under to worſhip him. Further, God made man for ſociety, and implanted in his nature the moral ſenſe to direct his conduct in that ſtate. From theſe premiſes, may it not with certainly be inferred to be the will of God, that men ſhould obey the dictates of the moral ſenſe in fulfilling every duty of juſtice and benevolence? Theſe moral duties, it would appear, are our chief buſineſs in this life; being enforced not only by a moral but by a religious principle.

Morality, as laid down in a former ſketch, conſiſts of two great branches, viz. the moral ſenſe, which unfolds our duty to man, and an active moral principle, which prompts us to perform that duty. Natural religion conſiſts alſo of two great branches, viz. the ſenſe of Deity, which unfolds our duty to our Maker, and the active principle of devotion, which prompts us to perform our duty to him. The univerſality of the ſenſe of Deity proves it to be innate: the ſame reaſon proves the principle of devotion to be innate; for all men agree in worſhipping ſuperior beings, whatever difference there may be in the mode of worſhip.

Both branches of the duty we owe to God, that of worſhipping him, and that of obeying his will with reſpect to our fellow-creatures, are [187] ſummed up by the Prophet Micah in the following emphatic words. ‘"He hath ſhewed thee, O man, what is good: and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do juſtly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?"’ The two articles firſt mentioned, are moral duties regarding our fellow-creatures; and as to ſuch, what is required of us by the Lord is to do our duty to others, not only as directed by the moral ſenſe, but as being the will of our Maker, to whom we owe abſolute obedience. That branch of our duty is reſerved for a ſecond ſection: at preſent we are to treat of religious worſhip, included in the third article, viz. the walking humbly with our God.

SECT. I.
Religious Worſhip.

THE obligation we are under to worſhip God, or to walk humbly with him, is, as obſerved above, founded on the two great principles of gratitude and obedience; both of them requiring fundamentally a pure heart, and a welldiſpoſed mind. But heart-worſhip is alone not ſufficient: there are over and above required external ſigns, teſtifying to others the ſenſe we have of theſe duties, and a firm reſolution to perform them. That ſuch is the will of God, will appear as follows. The principle of devotion, like moſt of our other principles, partakes of the imperfection [188] of our nature: yet however faint originally, it is capable of being greatly invigorated by cultivation and exerciſe. Private exerciſe is not ſufficient. Nature, and conſequently the God of nature, require public exerciſe or public worſhip: for devotion is infectious, like joy or griefa; and by mutual communication in a numerous aſſembly, is greatly invigorated. A regular habit of expreſſing publicly our gratitude and reſignation, never fails to purify the mind, tending to wean it from every unlawful purſuit. This is the true motive of public worſhip; not what is commonly inculcated, viz. That it is required from us, as a teſtimony to our Maker of our obedience to his laws: God, who knows the heart needs no ſuch teſtimony*. I ſhall only add upon the general [189] head, that lawgivers ought to avoid with caution the enforcing public worſhip by rewards and puniſhments: human laws cannot reach the heart, in which the eſſence of worſhip conſiſts: they may indeed bring on a liſtleſs habit of worſhip, by ſeparating the external act from the internal affection, than which there can be nothing more hurtful to true religion. The utmoſt that can be ſafely ventured, is to bring public worſhip under cenſorian powers, as a matter of police, for preſerving good order, and for preventing bad example.

The religion of Confucius, profeſſed by the literati and perſons of rank in China and Tonquin, conſiſts in a deep inward veneration for the God or King of heaven, and in the practice of every moral virtue. They have neither temples, nor prieſts, nor any ſettled form of external worſhip: every one adores the ſupreme Being in the manner he himſelf thinks beſt. This is indeed the moſt refined ſyſtem of religion that ever took place among men. There is however an invincible objection againſt it, which is, that it is not fitted for the human race: an excellent religigion it would be for angels; but is far too refined, even for ſages and philoſophers.

Proceeding to deviations from the genuine worſhip required by our Maker, and groſs deviations there have been, I begin with that ſort of worſhip which is influenced by fear, and which for that reaſon is univerſal among ſavages. The American [190] ſavages believe, that there are inferior deities without end, moſt of them prone to miſchief: they neglect the ſupreme Deity becauſe he is good; and direct their worſhip to ſoothe the malevolent inferior deities from doing harm. The inhabitants of the Molucca iſlands, who believe the exiſtence of malevolent inviſible beings ſubordinate to the ſupreme benevolent Being, confine their worſhip to the former, in order to avert their wrath; and one branch of their worſhip is, to ſet meat before them, hoping that when the belly is full, there will be leſs inclination to miſchief. The worſhip of the inhabitants of Java is much the ſame. The negroes of Benin worſhip the devil, as Dapper expreſſes it, and ſacrifice to him both men and beaſts. They acknowledge indeed a ſupreme Being, who created the univerſe, and governs it by his Providence: but they regard him not; ‘"for,"’ ſay they, ‘"it is needleſs, if not impertinent, to invoke a being, who, good and gracious, is incapable of injuring or moleſting us."’

The auſterities and penances that are practiſed in almoſt all religions, ſpring from the ſame root. One way to pleaſe inviſible malignant powers, is to make ourſelves as miſerable as poſſible. Hence the horrid penances of the Faquirs in Hindoſtan, who outdo in mortification whatever is reported of the ancient Chriſtian anchorites. Some of theſe Faquirs continue for life in one poſture: ſome never lie down: ſome have always their arms raiſed above their head: and ſome mangle their bodies with knives and ſcourges. The town of Jagrenate in Hindoſtan is frequented by pilgrims, ſome of them from the diſtance of 300 leagues, which they travel, not by walking or riding, but by meaſuring the road by the length of their bodies; in which method of loco-motion, [191] ſome of them conſume years, before they complete their pilgrimage. A religious ſect made its way ſome centuries ago into Japan, termed Bubſdoiſts, from Bubs, the founder. This ſect has prevailed over the ancient ſect of the Sintos, chiefly by its auſterity and mortifications. The ſpirit of this ſect inſpires nothing but exceſſive fear of the gods, who are painted prone to vengeance, and always offended. The people of that religion paſs moſt of their time in tormenting themſelves, to expiate imaginary faults; and they are treated by their prieſts with deſpotiſm and cruelty, that is not paralleled but by the inquiſitors of Spain. The manners of the people are fierce, cruel, and unrelenting, ſuch as never fail to be inſpired by horrible ſuperſtition. The notion of inviſible malevolent powers, formerly univerſal, is not to this hour eradicated, even among Chriſtians; for which I appeal to the faſtings and flagellations among Roman-Catholics, held by them to be an eſſential part of religion. People infected with religious horrors, are never ſeriouſly convinced, that an upright heart and ſound morality make the eſſence of religion. The doctrine of the Janſeniſts, concerning repentance and mortification, ſhows evidently, however they may deceive themſelves, that they have an impreſſion of the Deity as a malevolent being. They hold the guilt contracted by Adam's fall to be a heinous ſin, which ought to be expiated by acts of mortification, ſuch as the torturing and macerating the body with painful labour, exceſſive abſtinence, continual prayer and contemplation. Their penances, whether for original or voluntary ſin, are carried to extravagance; and they who put an end to their lives by ſuch ſeverities, are termed the ſacred victims of repentance, conſumed by the fire of divine love. Such ſuicides [192] are eſteemed peculiarly meritorious in the eye of Heaven; and it is thought, that their ſufferings cannot fail to appeaſe the anger of the Deity. That celibacy is a ſtate of purity and perfection, is a prevailing notion in many countries: among the Pagans, a married man was forbid to approach the altar, for ſome days after knowing his wife; and this ridiculous notion of pollution, contributed to introduce celibacy among the Roman-Catholic prieſts. The Emperor Otho, anno 1218, became a ſignal penitent: but inſtead of atoning for his ſins by repentance and reſtitution, he laid himſelf down to be trod under foot by the boys of his kitchen; and frequently ſubmitted to the diſcipline of the whip, inflicted by monks. The Emperor Charles V. toward the end of his days, was ſorely depreſſed in ſpirit with fear of hell. Monks were his only companions, with whom he ſpent his time in chanting hymns. As an expiation for his ſins, he in private diſciplined himſelf with ſuch ſeverity, that his whip, found after his death, was tinged with his blood. Nor was he ſatisfied with theſe acts of mortification: timorous and illiberal ſolicitude ſtill haunting him, he aimed at ſomething extraordinary, at ſome new and ſingular act of piety, to diſplay his zeal, and to merit the favour of Heaven. The act he fixed on was as wild as any that ſuperſtition ever ſuggeſted to a diſtempered brain: it was to celebrate his own obſequies. He ordered his tomb to be erected in the chapel of the monaſtery: his domeſtics marched there in a funeral proceſſion, holding black tapers: he followed in his ſhroud: he was laid in his coffin with much ſolemnity: the ſervice of the dead was chanted; and he himſelf joined in the prayers offered up for his requiem, mingling his tears with thoſe of his attendants. [193] The ceremony cloſed with ſprinkling holy water upon the coffin; and the aſſiſtants reretiring, the doors of the chapel were ſhut. Then Charles roſe out of the coffin, and ſtole privately to his apartment.

The hiſtory of ancient ſacrifices is not ſo accurate, as in every inſtance to aſcertain upon what principle they were founded, whether upon fear, upon gratitude for favours received, or to ſolicit future favour. Human ſacrifices undoubtedly belong to the preſent head: for being calculated to deprecate the wrath of a malevolent deity, they could have no other motive but fear; and indeed they are a moſt direful effect of that paſſion. It is needleſs to loſe time in mentioning inſtances, which are well known to thoſe who are acquainted with ancient hiſtory. A number of them are collected in Hiſtorical Law-tractsa: and to theſe I take the liberty of adding, that the Cimbrians, the Germans, the Gauls, particularly the Druids, practiſed human ſacrifices; for which we have the authority of Julius Caeſar, Strabo, and other authors. A people upon the Miſſiſippi, named Tenſas, worſhip the ſun; and, like the Natches their neighbours, have a temple for that luminary, with a ſacred fire in it, continually burning. The temple having been ſet on fire by thunder, was all in flames, when ſome French travellers ſaw them throw children into the fire, one after another, to appeaſe the incenſed deity. The Prophet Micahb, in a paſſage partly quoted above, inveighs bitterly againſt ſuch ſacrifices: ‘"Wherewith ſhall I come before [194] the Lord, and bow myſelf before the high God? ſhall I come before him with burntofferings, with calves of a year old? will the Lord be pleaſed with thouſands of rams, or with ten thouſands of rivers of oil? ſhall I give my firſt-born for my tranſgreſſion, the fruit of my body for the ſin of my ſoul? He hath ſhewed thee, O man, what is good: and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do juſtly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?"’

The ancient Perſians acknowledged Oromazes and Arimanes as their great deities, authors of good and ill to men. But I find not that Arimanes, the evil principle, was ever an object of any religious worſhip. The Gaures, who profeſs the ancient religion of Perſia, addreſs no worſhip but to one God, all-good and all-powerful.

Next, of worſhipping the Deity in the character of a mercenary being. Under that head come ſacrifices and oblations, whether prompted by gratitude for favours received, or by ſelf-intereſt to procure future favours; which, for the reaſon mentioned, I ſhall not attempt to diſtinguiſh. As the deities of early times were thought to reſemble men, it is not wonderful, that men endeavoured to conciliate their favour, with ſuch offerings as were the moſt acceptable to themſelves. It is probable, that the firſt ſacrifices of that kind were of ſweet-ſmelling herbs, which in the fire emitted a flavour, that might reach the noſtrils of a deity, even at a diſtance. The burning incenſe to their gods, was practiſed in Mexico and Peru; and at preſent is practiſed in the peninſula of Corea. An opportunity ſo favourable for making religious zeal a fund of riches to the prieſthood, is ſeldom neglected. There was no difficulty to perſuade ignorant people, that the [195] gods could eat as well as ſmell: what was offered to a deity for food, being carried into the temple was underſtood to be devoured by him.

With reſpect to the Jewiſh ſacrifices of burnt-offerings, meat-offerings, ſin-offerings, peace-offerings, heave-offerings, and wave-offerings, theſe were appointed by God himſelf, in order to keep that ſtiff-necked people in daily remembrance of their dependence on him, and to preſerve them if poſſible from idolatry. But that untractable race did not adhere to the purity of the inſtitution: they inſenſibly degenerated into the notion that their God was a mercenary being; and in that character only, was the worſhip of ſacrifices performed to him: the offerings mentioned were liberally beſtowed on him, not ſingly as a token of their dependence, but chiefly in order to avert his wrath, or to gain his favour*.

The religious notions of the Greeks were equally impure: they could not think of any means for conciliating the favour of their gods, more efficacious than gifts. Homer paints his gods as mercenary to an extreme. In the fourth book of the Iliad, Jupiter ſays, ‘"Of theſe cities, honoured the moſt by the ſoul of Jove, is ſacred Troy. Never ſtands the altar empty before me, oblations poured forth in my preſence, ſavour that aſcends the ſkies."’ Speaking [196] in the fifth book of a warrior, known afterward to be Diomedes, ‘"Some god he is, ſome power againſt the Trojans enraged for vows unpaid: deſtructive is the wrath of the gods."’ Diomedes prays to Minerva, ‘"With thine arm ward from me the foe: a year old heifer, O Queen, ſhall be thine, broad-fronted, unbroken, and wild: her to thee I will offer with prayer, gilding with gold her horns."’ Preciſely of the ſame kind, are the offerings made by ſuperſtitious Roman Catholics to the Virgin Mary, and to ſaints. Electra, in the tragedy of that name, ſupplicates Apollo in the following terms.

—O! hear Electra too;
Who, with unſparing hand, her chiceſt gifts
Hath never fail'd to lay before thy altars;
Accept the little All that now remains
For me to give.

The people of Hindoſtan, as mentioned above, atone for their ſins by auſtere penances; but they have no notion of preſenting gifts to the Deity, nor of deprecating his wrath with the blood of animals. On the contrary, they reckon it a ſin to ſlay any living creature; which reduces them to vegetable food. This is going too far; for the Deity could never mean to prohibit animal food, when man's chief dependence originally was upon it. The abſtaining, however, from animal food, ſhows greater humanity in the religion of Hindoſtan, than of any other known country. The inhabitants of Madagaſcar are in a ſtage of religion, common among many nations, which is, the acknowledging one ſupreme benevolent Deity, and many malevolent inferior deities. Moſt of their worſhip is indeed addreſſed to the [197] latter; but they have ſo far advanced before ſeveral other nations, as to offer ſacrifices to the ſupreme Being, without employing either idols or temples.

Philoſophy and ſound ſenſe, in poliſhed natitions, have purified religious worſhip, by baniſhing the profeſſion at leaſt of oblations and ſacrifices. The Being that made the world, governs it by laws that are inflexible, becauſe they are the beſt poſſible; and to imagine that he can be moved by prayers, oblations, or ſacrifices, to vary his plan of government, is an impious thought, degrading the Deity to a level with ourſelves: ‘"Hear, O my people, and I will teſtify againſt thee: I am God, even thy God. I will take no bullock out of thy houſe, nor he-goat out of thy fold: for every beaſt of the foreſt is mine, and the cattle upon a thouſand hills. Will I eat the fleſh of bulls, or drink the blood of goats? Offer unto God thankſgiving, and pay thy vows to the Moſt High. Call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou ſhalt glorify mea."’ ‘"Thou deſireſt not ſacrifice, elſe would I give it; thou delighteſt not in burnt-offering. The ſacrifices of God are a broken ſpirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not deſpiſeb."’ ‘"For I deſired mercy, and not ſacrifice, and the knowledge of God, more than burnt-of-feringsc."’ In dark ages, there is great ſhew of religion, with little heart worſhip: in [198] ages of philoſophy, warm heart-worſhip, with little ſhew*.

[199] This is a proper place for the hiſtory of idolatry; which, as will anon appear, ſprung from religious worſhip, corrupted by men of ſhallow underſtanding and groſs conceptions, upon whom things inviſible make little impreſſion.

Savages, even of the loweſt claſs, have an impreſſion of inviſible powers, though they cannot form any diſtinct notion of them. But ſuch impreſſion is too faint for the exerciſe of devotion. Whether inſpired with love to a good being, or with fear of an ill being, ſavages are not at eaſe without ſome ſort of viſible object to animate them. A great ſtone ſerved that purpoſe originally; a very low inſtrument indeed of religious worſhip; but not altogether whimſical, if it was introduced, which is highly probable, in the following manner. It was an early and a natural cuſtom among ſavages, to mark with a great ſtone, the place where their worthies were interred; of which we have hints every where in ancient hiſtory, particularly in the poems of Oſſian. ‘"Place me,"’ ſays Calmar, mortally wounded, ‘"at the ſide of a ſtone of remembrance, that future times may bear my ſame, and the mother of Calmar rejoice over the ſtone of my renown."’ Superſtition in later times having deified theſe worthies, their votaries, rejoicing as formerly over the ſtones dedicated to them, held theſe ſtones to be eſſential in every act of religious worſhip performed to [200] their new deities*. Tradition points out many ſtones in different parts of the world, that were uſed in religious worſhip. A large ſtone worſhipped by the Peſſenuntians, a people of Phrygia, under the name of Idaea mater, was, upon a ſolemn embaſſy to that people, brought to Rome; it being contained in the Sybilline books, that unleſs the Romans got poſſeſſion of that goddeſs, they never would prevail over Hannibal. And Pauſanias mentions many ſtones in Greece, dedicated to different divinities; particularly thirty ſquare ſtones in Achaia, on which were engraved the names of as many gods. In another place, he mentions a very ancient ſtatue of Venus in the iſland Delos, which, inſtead of feet, had only a ſquare ſtone. This may appear a puzzling circumſtance in the hiſtory of Greece, conſidering that all the Grecian gods were originally mortals, [201] whom it was eaſy to repreſent by ſtatues: but in that early period, the Greeks knew no more of ſtatuary than the moſt barbarous nations. It is perhaps not eaſy to gather the meaning of ſavages, with reſpect to ſuch ſtones: the moſt natural conjecture is, that a great ſtone, dedicated to the worſhip of a certain deity, was conſidered as belonging to him. This notion of property had a double effect: the worſhippers, by connection of ideas, were led from the ſtone to the deity: and the ſtone tended to fix their wandering thoughts. It was probably imagined, over and above, that ſome latent virtue communicated to the ſtone, made it holy or ſacred. Even among enlightened people, a ſort of virtue or ſanctity is conceived to reſide in the place of worſhip: why not alſo in a ſtone dedicated to a deity? The ancient Ethiopians, in their worſhip, introduced the figure of a ſerpent as a ſymbol of the deity: two ſticks laid croſs repreſented Caſtor and Pollux, Roman divinities: a javelin repreſented their god Mars; and in Tartary, formerly, the god of war was worſhipped under the ſymbol of an old ruſty ſabre. The ancient Perſians uſed conſecrated fire, as an emblem of the great God. Though the negroes of Congo and Angola have images without number, they are not however idolaters in any proper ſenſe: their belief is, that theſe images are only organs by which the deities ſignify their will to their votaries.

If the uſe that was made of ſtones and of other ſymbols in religious worſhip, be fairly repreſented, it may appear ſtrange, that the ingenious Greeks ſunk down into idolatry, at the very time they were making a rapid progreſs in the fine arts. Their improvements in ſtatuary, one of theſe arts, was the cauſe. They began with attempting to [202] carve heads of men and women, repreſenting their deified heroes; which were placed upon the ſtones dedicated to theſe divinities. In the progreſs of the art, ſtatues were executed complete in every member; and at laſt, ſtatues of the gods were made, expreſſing ſuch dignity and majeſty, as inſenſibly to draw from beholders a degree of devotion to the ſtatues themſelves. Hear Quintilian upon that ſubject. ‘"At quae Polycleto defuerunt, Phidiae atque Alcameni dantur. Phidias tamen diis quam hominibus efficiendis melior artifex traditur: in ebore vero, longe citra aemulum, vel ſi nihil niſi Minervam Athenis aut Olympium in Elide Jovem feciſſet, cujus pulchritudo adjeciſſe aliquid etiam receptae religioni videtur; adeo majeſtas operis deum aequavit*."’ Here is laid a foundation for idolatry: let us trace its progreſs. Such ſtatues as are repreſented by Quintilian, ſerve greatly to enſlame devotion; and during a warm fit of the religious paſſion, the repreſentation is loſt, and the ſtatue becomes a deity; preciſely as where King Lear is repreſented by Garrick: the actor vaniſhes; and, behold! the King himſelf. This is not ſingular. Anger occaſions a metamorphoſis ſtill more extraordinary: if I happen to ſtrike my gouty toe againſt a ſtone, the violence of the pain [203] converts the ſtone for a moment into a voluntary agent; and I wreak my reſentment on it, as if it really were ſo. It is true, the image is only conceived to be a deity during the fervour of devotion; and when that ſubſides, the image falls back to its original repreſentative ſtate. But frequent inſtances of that kind, have at laſt the effect among illiterate people, to convert the image into a ſort of permanent deity: what ſuch people ſee, makes a deep impreſſion; what they ſee not, little or none at all. There is another thing that concurs with eye-ſight, to promote this deluſion: devotion, being a vigorous principle in the human breaſt, will exert itſelf upon the meaneſt object, when none more noble is in view.

The ancient Perſians held the conſecrated fire to be an emblem only of the great God: but ſuch veneration was paid to that emblem, and with ſo great ceremony was it treated, that the vulgar came at laſt to worſhip it as a ſort of deity. The prieſts of the Gaures watch the conſecrated fire day and night: they keep it alive with the pureſt wood, without bark: they touch it not with ſword nor knife: they blow it not with bellows, nor with the mouth: even the prieſt is prohibited to approach it, till his mouth be covered with fine linen, leſt it be polluted with his breath: if it happen to go out, it muſt be rekindled by ſtriking fire from flint, or by a burning glaſs.

The progreſs of idolatry will more clearly appear, from attending to the religion of the Greeks and Romans. The Greeks, as mentioned above, made uſe of ſtones in divine worſhip, long before idolatry was introduced: and we learn from Varro, that for a hundred and ſeventy years after Numa, the Romans had no ſtatues nor images in their temples. After ſtatues of the gods came [204] in faſhion, they acquired by degrees more and more reſpect. The Greek and Roman writers, talk of divine virtue being communicated to ſtatues; and ſome of the Roman writers talk familiarly, of the numen of a deity reſiding in his ſtatue. Arnobius, in his book againſt the Gentiles, introduces a Gentile delivering the following opinion. ‘"We do not believe, that the metal which compoſes a ſtatue, whether gold, or ſilver, or braſs, is a god, But we believe, that a ſolemn dedication brings down the god to inhabit his image; and it is the god only that we worſhip in that image."’ This explains the Roman ceremony, of inviting to their ſide the tutelar deities of towns beſieged by them, termed evacatio tutelarium deorum: the Romans, cruel as they were, overflowed with ſuperſtition; and as they were averſe from combating the tutelar deities even of their enemies, they endeavoured to gain theſe deities by large promiſes, and aſſurance of honourable treatment. As they could not hope that a ſtatue would change its place, their notion muſt have been, that by this ceremony, the tutelar deity might be prevailed upon to withdraw its numen, and leave the ſtatue a dead lump of matter. When Stilpo was baniſhed by the Areopagus of Athens for affirming, that the ſtatue in the temple of Minerva was not the goddeſs, but a piece of matter carved by Phidias; he ſurely was not condemned for ſaying, that the ſtatue was made by Phidias, a fact univerſally known: his hereſy conſiſted in denying that the numen of Minerva reſided in the ſtatue. Auguſtus, having twice loſt his fleet by ſtorm, forbade Neptune to be carried in proceſſion along with the other gods; imagining he had avenged himſelf of Neptune, by neglecting the favourite ſtatue in which his numen reſided.

[205] When ſaints in the Chriſtian church were deified, even their images became objects of worſhip; from a fond imagination, that ſuch worſhip draws down into the images, the ſouls of the ſaints they repreſent: which is the ſame doctrine that Arnobius, in the paſſage above mentioned, aſcribes to the Gentiles; and is not widely different from the belief of the Pagan Tartars and Oſtiacs, by and by to be mentioned. In the eleventh century, there was a violent diſpute about images in the Greek church; many aſſerting, that in the images of our Saviour and of the ſaints, there reſides an inherent ſanctity, which is a proper object of worſhip; and that Chriſtians ought not to confine their worſhip to the perſons repreſented, but ought alſo to extend it to their images.

As ignorant and ſavage nations can form no conception of Deity, but of a being like a man, only ſuperior in power and greatneſs, images are made of the Deity in ſeveral nations conformable to this conception. It is eaſy to make ſome reſemblance of a man; but how is power and greatneſs to be repreſented? To perform this with propriety, would require a Hogarth. Savages go more bluntly to work: they endeavour to repreſent a man with many heads, and with a ſtill greater number of hands. The northern Tartars ſeem to have no deities but certain ſtatues or images coarſely formed out of wood, and bearing ſome diſtant reſemblance to the human figure. To palliate ſo groſs an abſurdity, as that a god can be fabricated by the hands of man, they imagine this image to be endued with a ſoul: to ſay whence that ſoul came, would puzzle the wiſeſt of them. That ſoul is conceived to be too elevated for dwelling conſtantly in a piece of matter: they believe that it reſides in ſome more honourable [206] place; and that it only viſits the image or idol, when it is called down by prayers and ſupplications. They ſacrifice to this idol, by rubbing its mouth with the fat of fiſh, and by offering it the warm blood of ſome beaſt killed in hunting. The laſt ſtep of the ceremony is, to honour the ſoul of the idol with a joyful ſhout, as a ſort of convoy to it when it returns home. The Oſtiacs have a wooden idol, termed, The Old Man of Oby, who is guardian of their fiſhery: it hath eyes of glaſs, and a head with ſhort horns. When the ice diſſolves, they crowd to this idol, requeſting that he will be propitious to their fiſhery. If unſucceſsful, he is loaded with reproaches: if ſucceſsful, he is entitled to a ſhare of the capture. They make a feaſt for him, rubbing his ſnout with choice fat; and, when the entertainment is over, they accompany the ſoul of the idol a little way, beating the air with their cudgels. The Oſtiacs have another idol, that is fed with milk ſo abundantly, as to come out on both ſides of the ſpoon, and to fall down upon the veſture; which, however, is never waſhed, ſo little is cleanlineſs thought eſſential to religion by that people. It is indeed wonderfully abſurd, to think, that inviſible ſouls require food like human creatures; and yet the ſame abſurdity prevailed in Greece.

The ancient Germans, a ſober and ſenſible people, had no notion of repreſenting their gods by ſtatues, nor of building temples to them. They worſhipped in conſecrated grovesa. The Egyptians, from a juſt conception that an inviſible being can have no reſemblance to one that is [207] viſible, employed hieroglyphical figures for denoting metaphorically the attributes of their gods; and they employed, not only the figures of birds and beaſts, but of vegetables; leeks, for example, and onions. This metaphorical adjunct to religion, innocent in itſelf, ſunk the Egyptians to the loweſt degree of idolatry. As hieroglyphical figures, compoſed frequently of heterogeneous parts, reſemble not any being human or devine; the vulgar, loſing ſight of the emblematic ſignification, which is not readily underſtood but by poets and philoſophers, took up with the plain figures as real divinities. How otherwiſe can it be accounted for, that the ox, the ape, the onion, were in Egypt worſhipped as deities? But this muſt be underſtood of the vulgar only. It is ſcarce ſuppoſable, that the better ſort of people could think ſo groſsly; and we have the authority of Plutarch for doubting. In his chapter upon Iſis and Oſiris, he obſerves, that the Egyptians worſhipped the bull, the cat, and other animals; not as divinities, but as repreſentatives of them, like an image ſeen in a glaſs; or, as he expreſſes it in another part of the ſame chapter, ‘"juſt as we ſee the reſemblance of the ſun in a drop of water."’ However this be, the Egyptian worſhip is an illuſtrious inſtance of the influence of devotion: how powerful muſt it be in its purity, when even in a wrong direction, it can force its way againſt every obſtacle of common ſenſe! And ſuch reſpect was paid to theſe animals, if we can truſt Diodorus Siculus, that in a great famine, the Egyptians ventured not to touch the ſacred animals, though they were forced to devour one another. The veneration paid to a cow in Hindoſtan aroſe probably from the ſame cauſe, viz. its having been uſed as a ſymbol of the Deity. A ſnake of a particular kind, about a yard long, and about [208] the thickneſs of a man's arm, is worſhipped by the Whidans in Guinea. It has a large round head, piercing eyes, a ſhort pointed tongue, and a ſmooth ſkin, beautifully ſpeckled. It has a ſtrong antipathy to all the venomous kind; in other reſpects, innocent and tame. To kill them being a capital crime, they travel about unmoleſted, even into bedchambers. They occaſioned, ann. 1697, a ridiculous perſecution. A hog, teaſed by one of them, gnaſhed it with his tuſks till it died. The prieſts carried their complaint to the king; and no one preſuming to appear as counſel for the hogs, orders were iſſued for ſlaughtering the whole race. At once were brandiſhed a thouſand cutlaſſes; and the race would have been extirpated, had not the king interpoſed, repreſenting to the prieſts, that they ought to reſt ſatisfied with the innocent blood they had ſpilt. Rancour and cruelty never rage more violently, than under the maſk of religion.

It is amazing how prone the moſt poliſhed nations formerly were to idolatry. The Tyrians, beſieged by Alexander, chained down Hercules, their tutelar deity, to prevent him from deſerting to the enemy; which is ſaid to have been alſo practiſed in Sparta. The city of Ambracia being taken by the Romans, and every ſtatue of their gods being carried to Rome; the Ambracians complained bitterly, that not a ſingle divinity was left them to worſhip. How much more rational are the Hindoſtan bramins, who teach their diſciples, that idols are emblems only of the Deity, intended merely to fix the attention of the populace!

The firſt ſtatues in Greece and Tuſcany, were made with wings, to ſignify the ſwift motion of the gods. Theſe ſtatues were ſo clumſy, as [209] ſcarce to reſemble human creatures, not to talk of a divinity. But the admirable ſtatues executed in later times, were imagined to reſemble moſt accurately the deities repreſented by them: whence the vulgar notion, that gods have wings, and that angels have wings.

I proceed to what in the hiſtory of idolatry may be reckoned the ſecond part. Statues, we have ſeen, were at firſt uſed as repreſentatives only of the Deity; but came afterward to be metamorphoſed into divinities. The abſurdity did not ſtop there. People, not ſatisfied with the viſible deities erected in temples for public worſhip, became fond to have private deities of their own, whom they worſhipped as their tutelar deities; and this practice ſpread ſo wide, as that among many nations every family had houſehold gods cut in wood or ſtone. Every family in Kamſkatka has a tutelar deity in the ſhape of a pillar, with the head of a man, which is ſuppoſed to guard the houſe againſt malevolent ſpirits. They give it food daily, and anoint the head with the fat of fiſh. The Prophet Iſaiaha put this ſpecies of deification in a moſt ridiculous light: ‘"He burneth part thereof in the fire: with part thereof he roaſteth fleſh: of the reſidue he maketh a god, even his graven image: he falleth down, worſhipping, and praying to it, and ſaith, Deliver me, for thou art my god."’ Multiplication could not fail to ſink houſehold-gods into a degree of contempt: expectation of good from them, might produce ſome cold ceremonial worſhip; but there could be no real devotion at heart. The Chineſe manner of treating their houſehold-gods, will vouch [210] for me. When a Chineſe does not obtain what he prays for, ‘"Thou ſpiritual dog,"’ he will ſay, ‘"I lodge thee well, thou art beaufully gilded, treated with perfumes and burnt-offerings; and yet thou with-holdeſt from me the neceſſaries of life."’ Sometimes they faſten a cord to the idol, and drag it through the dirt. The inhabitants of Ceylon treat their idols in the ſame manner. Thor, Woden, and Friga, were the great deities of the Scandinavians. They had at the ſame time inferior deities, who were ſuppoſed to have been men tranſlated into heaven for their good works. Theſe they treated with very little ceremony, refuſing to worſhip them if they were not propitious; and even puniſhing them with baniſhment; but reſtoring them after a time, in hopes of amendment. Domeſtic idols are treated by the Oſtiacs not more reverently than by the people mentioned. But they have public idols, ſome particularly of braſs, which are highly reverenced: the ſolidity of the metal is in their imagination connected with immortality; and great regard is paid to theſe idols, for the knowledge and experience they muſt have acquired in an endleſs courſe of time.

Saints, or tutelar deities, are ſometimes not better treated among Roman Catholics, than among Pagans. ‘"When we were in Portugal,"’ ſays Captain Brydone, ‘"the people of Caſtelbranco were ſo enraged at St Antonio, for ſuffering the Spaniards to plunder their town, contrary, as they affirmed, to his expreſs agreement with them, that they broke many of his ſtatues to pieces; and one that had been more revered than the reſt, they took the head off, and in its ſtead placed one of St Francis. The great St Januarius himſelf was in imminent danger, during the laſt famine at Naples. [211] They loaded him with abuſe and invective; and declared point-blank, that if he did not procure them corn by ſuch a time, he ſhould be no longer their ſaint."’ The tutelar ſaint of Cattania, at the foot of Mount Etna, is St Agatha. A torrent of lava burſt over the walls, and laid waſte great part of that beautiful city. Where was St Agatha at this time? The people ſay, that they had given her juſt provocation; but that ſhe has long ago been reconciled to them, and has promiſed never to ſuffer the lava to hurt them again. At the foot of Mount Etna, a ſtatue of a ſaint is placed as a memorial, for having prevented the lava from running up the mountain of Taurominum, and deſtroying that town; the ſaint having conducted the lava down a low valley to the ſea.

When a traveller once happens to deviate from the right road, there is no end of wandering. Porphyrius reports, that in Anubis, an Egyptian city, a real man was worſhipped as a god; which is alſo aſſerted by Minucius Foelix, in his apology for the Chriſtians. A thouſand writers have ſaid, that the Tartars believe their high-prieſt, termed Dalai Lama, to be immortal. But that is a miſtake: his death is publiſhed through the whole country; and couriers, ſent even to Pekin, intimate it to the Emperor of China: his effigy, at the ſame time, is taken down from the portal of the great church, and that of his ſucceſſor is put in its ſtead. The ſyſtem of the metempſychoſis, adopted in that country, has occaſioned the miſtake. They believe, that the holy ſpirit, which animates a Dalai Lama, paſſes upon his death into the body of his ſucceſſor. The ſpirit therefore is believed to be immortal, not the body. The Dalai Lama, however, is the object of profound veneration. The Tartar princes are [212] daily ſending preſents to him, and conſulting him as an oracle: they even undertake a pilgrimage in order to worſhip him in perſon. In a retired part of the temple, he is ſhown covered with precious ſtones, and ſitting croſs-legged. They proſtrate themſelves before him at a diſtance, for they are not permitted to kiſs his toe. The prieſts make traffic even of his excrements, which are greedily purchaſed at a high price, and are kept in a golden box hanging from the neck, as a charm againſt every misfortune. Like the croſs of Jeſus, or the Virgin's milk, we may believe, there never will be wanting plenty of that precious ſtuff to anſwer all demands: the prieſts out of charity will furniſh a quota, rather than ſuffer votaries to depart with their money for want of goods to purchaſe. The perſon of the Japan Pope, or Eccleſiaſtical Emperor, is held ſo ſacred, as to make the cutting his beard, or his nails, a deadly ſin. But abſurd laws are never ſteadily executed. The beard and the nails are cut in the night-time, when the Pope is ſuppoſed to be ſleeping; and what is taken away by that operation, is underſtood to be ſtolen from him, which is no impeachment upon his Holineſs.

That the Jews were idolaters when they ſojourned in the land of Goſhen, were it not preſumable from their commerce with the Egyptians, would however be evident from the hiſtory of Moſes. Notwithſtanding their miraculous deliverance from the Egyptian king, notwithſtanding the daily miracles wrought among them in the wilderneſs; ſo addicted were they to a viſible deity, that, during even the momentary abſence of Moſes converſing with God on the mount, they fabricated a golden calf, and worſhipped it as their god. ‘"And the Lord ſaid unto Moſes, Go, get thee down: for thy people which [213] thou broughteſt out of the land of Egypt, have corrupted themſelves: they have turned aſide quickly out of the way which I commanded them: they have made them a molten calf, have worſhipped it, have ſacrificed thereunto, and ſaid, Theſe be thy gods, O Iſrael, which have brought thee up out of the land of Egypta."’ The hiſtory of the Jews ſhows how difficult it is to reclaim from idolatry a brutiſh people, addicted to ſuperſtition, and and fettered by inveterate habit. What profuſion of blood, to bring that obſtinate and perverſe people to the true religion! all in vain. The book of Judges, in particular, is full of reiterated relapſes, from their own inviſible God, to the viſible gods of other nations. And in all probability, their anxious deſire for a viſible king, related in the firſt book of Samuel, aroſe from their being deprived of a viſible god. There was a neceſſity for prohibiting imagesb; which would have ſoon been converted into deities viſible: and it was extremely prudent, to ſupply the want of a viſible god, with endleſs ſhews and ceremonies; which accordingly became the capital branch of the Jewiſh worſhip.

It appears to me from the whole hiſtory of the Jews, that a groſs people are not ſuſceptible but of a groſs religion; and without an enlightened underſtanding, that it is vain to think of eradicating ſuperſtition and idolatry. And after all the covenants made with the Jews, after all the chaſtiſements and all the miracles laviſhed on them, that they were not however reclaimed from the [214] moſt groveling idolatry, is evident from the two golden calves fabricated by Jeroboam, ſaying, ‘"Behold thy gods, O Iſrael, which brought thee up out of the land of Egypta."’ The people alſo of Judah fell back to idol-worſhip under Rehoboam, ſon of Solomonb. Jehu, king of the ten tribes, did not tolerate the worſhip of other godsc; but he continued to worſhip the two golden calves fabricated by Jeroboamd. Down to the days of King Hezekiah, the Jews worſhipped the brazen ſerpent erected by Moſes in the wilderneſs. The Jews ſeem indeed to have been a very perverſe people: the many promiſes and threatenings announced by their prophets, and the many miracles wrought among them, had no permanent effect to reſtrain them from idolatry; and yet, during their captivity in Babylon, ſeveral of them ſubmitted to be burnt alive, rather than to join in idol worſhipe. Captivity cured them radically of idolatry; and from that period to this day, they have not been guilty of a ſingle relapſe. Xiphilin, in his abridgement of Dion Caſſius, relating their war with Pompey, many centuries after the Babyloniſh captivity, gives the following account of them. ‘"Their cuſtoms are quite different from thoſe of other nations. Beſide a peculiar [215] manner of living, they acknowledge none of the common deities: they acknowledge but one, whom they worſhip with great veneration. There never was an image in Jeruſalem; becauſe they believe their God to be inviſible and ineffable. They have built him a temple of great ſize and beauty, remarkable in the following particular, that it is open above, without any roof."’

There lies no ſolid objection againſt images among an enlightened people, when uſed merely to rouſe devotion. But as images tend to pervert the vulgar, they ought not to be admitted into churches: pictures are leſs liable to be miſapprehended; and the Ethiopians accordingly indulge pictures, though they prohibit ſtatues, in their churches. The general council of Frankfort permitted the uſe of images in churches; but ſtrictly prohibited any worſhip to be addreſſed to them. So prone however to idolatry are the low and illiterate, that the prohibition loſt ground both in France and in Germany; and idol-worſhip became again general.

It is extremely probable, that the ſun and moon were early held to be deities, and that they were the firſt viſible objects of worſhip. It muſt indeed be acknowledged, that of all the different kinds of idolatry, it is the moſt excuſable. Upon the ſun depends health, vigour, and cheerfulneſs: during his retirement, all is dark and diſconſolate: when he performs his majeſtic round, to bleſs his ſubjects, and to beſtow fecundity upon every animal and vegetable, can a mere ſavage with-hold gratitude and veneration! Hear an old Pagan bard upon that ſubject. ‘"O thou who rolleſt above, round as the ſhield of my fathers! Whence are thy beams, O ſun, thy everlaſting light? Thou comeſt forth in thy [216] awful beauty, and the ſtars hide their faces: thou moveſt alone, for who can be a companion of thy courſe? The oaks of the mountain fall: the mountains decay with years: the ocean ſhrinks and grows again: the moon herſelf is loſt in heaven: but thou art for ever the ſame, rejoicing in the brightneſs of thy courſe. When tempeſts darken the world, when thunder rolls, and lightning flies, thou lookeſt in thy beauty from the clouds, and laugheſt at the ſtorma."’ Worſhip to the ſun as a real deity, was in former times univerſal; and prevails in many countries even at preſent. The American ſavages worſhip the ſun, as ſovereign of the univerſe, known by the name of Ariſkoui among the Hurons, and of Agriſkoué among the Iroquois. They offer him tobacco, which they term ſmoking the ſun: the chief man in the aſſembly lights the calumet, and offers it thrice to the riſing ſun; imploring his protection, and recommending the tribe to his care. The chief proceeds to ſmoke; and every one ſmokes in his turn. This ceremony is performed on important occaſions only: leſs matters are reſerved for their Manitou. The Miſſiſippi people offer to the ſun the firſt of what they take in hunting; which their commander artfully converts to his own uſe. The Apalachites, bordering on Florida, worſhip the ſun; but ſacrifice nothing to him that has life: they hold him to be the parent of life, and think that he can take no pleaſure in the deſtruction of any living creature: their devotion is exerted in perfumes and ſongs. The Mexicans, while a free people, preſented to the [217] ſun a ſhare of their meat and drink. The inhabitants of Darien believe in the ſun as their god, and in the moon as his wife, paying equal adoration to each. The people of Borneo worſhip the ſun and moon as real divinities. The Samoides worſhip both, bowing to them morning and evening in the Perſian manner.

But if the ſun and moon were the firſt objects of idolatry, knowledge and reflection reformed many from the error of holding theſe luminaries to be deities. ‘"That original intelligence,"’ ſay the Magians, ‘"who is the firſt principle of all things, diſcovers himſelf to the mind and underſtanding only: but he hath placed the ſun as his image in the viſible univerſe; and the beams of that bright luminary, are but a faint copy of the glory that ſhines in the higher heavens."’ The Perſians, as Herodotus reports, had neither temples, nor altars, nor images: for, ſays that author, they do not think, like the Greeks, that there is any reſemblance between gods and men. The Gaures, who to this day profeſs the ancient religion of Perſia, celebrate divine worſhip before the ſacred fire, and turn with peculiar veneration toward the riſing ſun, as the repreſentative of God; but they adore neither the ſun, nor the ſacred fire. They are profeſſed enemies to every image of the Deity cut with hands: and hence the havock made by the ancient Perſians, upon the ſtatues and temples of The Grecian gods. Such ſublimity of thought was above the reach of other uninſpired nations, excepting only the Hindows and Chineſe.

I cloſe the hiſtory of idolatry with a brief recapitulation of the outlines. Admitting the ſun and moon to have been the firſt objects of idolatry, yet as Polytheiſm was once univerſal, they [218] make only two of the many gods that were every where worſhipped. We have ſeen, that the ſacred fire was employed in the worſhip of the ſun, and that images were employed in the worſhip of other deities. Images were originally uſed for the ſole purpoſe of animating devotion: ſuch was their uſe in Perſia and Hindoſtan; and ſuch was their uſe in every country among philoſophers. The Emperor Julian, in an epiſtle to Theodore concerning the images of the gods ſays, ‘"We believe not that theſe images are gods: we only uſe them in worſhipping the gods."’ In the progreſs toward idolatry, the next ſtep is, to imagine, that a deity loves his image, that he makes it his reſidence, or at leaſt communicates ſome virtue to it. The laſt ſtep is, to imagine the image itſelf to be a deity; which gained ground imperceptibly as ſtatuary advanced toward perfection. It would be incredible that men of ſenſe ſhould ever ſuffer themſelves to be impreſſed with ſo wild a deluſion, were it not the overbearing influence of religious ſuperſtition. Credo quia impoſſible eſt, is applicable to idolatry as well as to tranſubſtantiation. The worſhipping the ſun and moon as deities, is idolatry in the ſtricteſt ſenſe. With reſpect to images, the firſt ſtep of the progreſs is not idolatry: the next is mixed idolatry: and the laſt is rank idolatry.

So much upon idolatry. I proceed to what approaches the neareſt to it, which is worſhip addreſſed to deified mortals. The ancient gods were exalted ſo little above men, that it was no hard taſk for the imagination to place in heaven, men who had made a figure on earth. The Grecian heaven was entirely peopled with ſuch men, as well as that of many other nations. Men are deified every day by the Romiſh church, under the denomination of ſaints: perſons [219] are frequently ſelected for that honour who ſcarce deſerved a place on earth, and ſome who never had a place there. The Roman Catholics copy the Pagans, in worſhipping theſe ſubordinate divinities by prayers and oblations: and they are well rewarded, by being taken under protection of theſe ſaints in quality of tutelar deities. One branch of the office beſtowed on theſe ſaints, is to explain the wants of their votaries to the King of heaven, and to ſupplicate for them. The mediatorial office prevails with reſpect to earthly potentates, as well as heavenly: being ſtruck with awe and timidity in approaching thoſe exalted above us, we naturally take hold of ſome intermediate perſon to ſolicit for us. In approaching the Almighty, the mind, ſinking down into humility and profound veneration, ſtops ſhort, relying upon ſome friend in heaven to intercede in its behalf. Temples among the Cochin-Chineſe are conſtructed with a deep and dark niche, which is their ſanctum ſanctorum. They hold, that no repreſentation, whether by painting or ſculpture, can be made of God, who is inviſible. The niche denotes his incomprehenſibility; and the good men placed by them in heaven, are believed to be their interceſſors at the throne of grace. The prayers of the Chinguleſe are ſeldom directed to the ſupreme being, but to his vicegerents. Interceſſors, at the ſame time, contribute to the eaſe of their votaries: a Roman Catholic need not aſſume a very high tone in addreſſing a tutelar ſaint choſen by himſelf.

Falſe notions of Providence have prompted groveling mortals to put confidence in mediators and interceſſors of a ſtill lower claſs, viz. living mortals, who by idle auſterities have acquired a reputation for holineſs. Take the following inſtance, [220] the ſtrongeſt of the kind that can be figured. Louis XI. of France, ſenſible of the approach of death, ſent for a hermit of Calabria, named Franciſco Martarillo; and throwing himſelf at the hermit's feet in a flood of tears, entreated him to intercede with God, that his life might be prolonged; as if the voice of a Calabrian friar, ſays Voltaire, could alter the courſe of Providence, by preſerving a weak and perverſe ſoul in a worn-out body.

Having diſcuſſed the perſons that are the objects of worſhip, the next ſtep in order is, to take under view the forms and ceremonies employed in religious worſhip. Forms are neceſſary where-ever a number of perſons join in one operation: they are eſſential in an army, and little leſs eſſential at public worſhip. The uſe of ceremonies is to excite devotion: but to preſerve a juſt medium, requires great delicacy of taſte; for though ceremonies are neceſſary at public worſhip to prevent languor, yet ſuperfluity of ceremonies quenches devotion, by occupying the mind too much upon externals. The Roman-Catholic worſhip is crowded with ceremonies: it reſembles the Italian opera, which is all ſound, and no ſentiment. The Preſbyterian form of worſhip is too naked: it is proper for philoſophers more than for the populace. This is fundamentally the cauſe of the numerous ſeceſſions from the church of Scotland that have made a figure of late: people diſlike the eſtabliſhed forms, when they find leſs comfort in public worſhip than is expected; and without being ſenſible of the real cauſe, they chuſe paſtors for themſelves, who ſupply the want of ceremonies by loud ſpeaking, with much external fervor and devotion.

[221] The frequent ablutions or waſhings among the Mahometans and others, as acts of devotion, ſhow the influence that the ſlighteſt reſemblances have on the ignorant. Becauſe purification, in ſeveral languages, is a term applicable to the mind as well as to the body, ſhallow thinkers, miſled by the double meaning, imagine that the mind, like the body, is purified by water.

The ſect of Ali uſe the Alcoran tranſlated into the Perſian language, which is their native tongue. The ſect of Omar eſteem this to be a groſs impiety; being perſuaded, that the Alcoran was written in Arabic, by the Angel Gabriel, at the command of God himſelf. The Roman Catholics are not then the only people who profeſs to ſpeak nonſenſe to God Almighty; or, which is the ſame, who profeſs to pray in an unknown tongue.

At meals, the ancients poured out ſome wine as a libation to the gods: Chriſtians pronounce a ſhort prayer, termed a grace.

The groſs notion of Deity entertained by the ancients, is exemplified in their worſhipping and ſacrificing on high places; in order, as they thought, to be more within ſight. Jupiter in Homer praiſes Hector for ſacrificing to him frequently upon the top of Ida; and Strabo obſerves, that the Perſians, who uſed neither images nor altars, ſacrificed to the gods in high places. Balak carried Balaam the prophet to the top of Piſgah, and other mountains, to ſacrifice there, and to curſe Iſrael. The votaries of Baal always worſhipped in high places. Even the ſage Tacitus was infected with that abſurdity. Speaking of certain high mountains where the gods were worſhipped, he expreſſes himſelf thus: Maxime [222] coelo appropinquare, preceſque mortalium a Deo nuſquam propius audiri *.

Ceremonies that tend to unhinge morality, belong more properly to the following ſection, treating of the connection between religion and morality.

It is now full time to take under conſideration an objection to the ſenſe of Deity hinted above, arguing from the groſs conceptions of deity among many nations, that this ſenſe cannot be innate. The objection is not indeed ſtated in the following paſſage, borrowed from a juſtly celebrated author; but as it may be implied, the paſſage ſhall be fairly tranſcribed. ‘"The univerſal propenſity to believe inviſible intelligent power, being a general attendant on human nature, if not an original inſtinct, may be conſidered as a kind of ſtamp which the Deity has ſet upon his work; and nothing ſurely can more dignify mankind, than to be the only earthly being who bears the ſtamp or image of the univerſal Creator. But conſult this image as it commonly is in popular religions: how is the Deity disfigured! what caprice, abſurdity, and immorality, are attributed to hima!"’ A ſatisfactory anſwer to the objection implied in this paſſage, will occur, upon recollecting the progreſs of men and nations from infancy to maturity. Our external ſenſes, neceſſary for ſelf-preſervation, ſoon arrive at perfection: the more refined ſenſes of propriety, of right and wrong, of Deity, of being accountable [223] creatures, and many others of the ſame kind, are of ſlower growth: the ſenſe of right and wrong in particular, and the ſenſe of Deity, ſeldom reach perfection, but by good education and much ſtudy. If ſuch be the caſe among enlightened nations, what is to be expected from ſavages who are in the loweſt ſtage of underſtanding? To a ſavage of New Holland, whoſe ſenſe of deity is extremely obſcure, one may talk without end of a being who created the world, and who governs it by wiſe laws; but in vain; for the ſavage will be never the wiſer. The ſame ſavage hath alſo a glimmering of the moral ſenſe, as all men have; and yet in vain will you diſcourſe to him of approbation and diſapprobation, of merit and demerit: of theſe terms he has no clear conception. Hence the endleſs aberrations of rude and barbarous nations, from pure religion as well as from pure morality. Of the latter there are many inſtances collected in the preceding tract; and of the former, inſtances ſtill more plentiful in the preſent tract. The ſenſe of deity in dark times has indeed been ſtrangely diſtorted by certain biaſſes and paſſions that enſlave the rude and illiterate: but theſe yield gradually to the rational faculty as it ripens, and at laſt leave religion free to ſound philoſophy. Then it is that men, liſtening to the innate ſenſe of deity purified from every bias, acquire a clear conviction of one ſupreme Deity who made and governs the world.

The foregoing objection then, impartially conſidered, weighs not againſt the ſenſe of deity more than againſt the moral ſenſe. If it have weight, it reſolves into a complaint againſt Providence for the weakneſs of the ſenſe of deity in rude and illiterate nations. If ſuch complaint be ſolidly founded, it pierces extremely deep: why have [224] not all nations, even in their naſcent ſtate, the ſenſe of deity, and the moral ſenſe, in purity and perfection? why do they not poſſeſs all the arts of life without neceſſity of culture or experience? why are we born poor and helpleſs infants, inſtead of being produced complete in every member, internal and external, as Adam and Eve were? The plan of Providence is far above the reach of our weak criticiſms. I ſhall only obſerve, that as, with reſpect to individuals, there is a progreſs from infancy to maturity; ſo there is a ſimilar progreſs in every nation, from its ſavage ſtate to its maturity in arts and ſciences. A child that has juſt conceptions of the Deity and of his attributes, would be a great miracle; and would not ſuch knowledge in a ſavage be equally ſo? Nor can I diſcover what benefit a child or a ſavage could reap from ſuch knowledge; provided it remained a child or a ſavage in every other reſpect. The genuine fruits of religion, are gratitude to the Author of our being, veneration to him as the ſupreme Being, abſolute reſignation to the eſtabliſhed laws of his Providence, and chearful performance of every duty: but a child has not the ſlighteſt idea of gratitude nor of veneration, and very little of moral duties; and a ſavage, with reſpect to theſe, is not much ſuperior to a child. The formation and government of the world, as far as we know, are excellent: we have great reaſon to preſume the ſame with reſpect to what we do not know; and every good man will reſt ſatisfied with the following reflection, That we ſhould have been men from the hour of our birth, complete in every part, had it been conformable to the ſyſtem of unerring Providence.

SECT. II.
Morality conſidered as a branch of duty to our Maker.
[225]

HAVING travelled long on a rough road, not a little fatiguing, the agreeable part lies before us; which is, to treat of morality as a branch of religion. It was that ſubject which induced me to undertake the hiſtory of natural religion; a ſubject that will afford ſalutary inſtruction, and will inſpire true piety, if inſtruction can produce that effect.

Bayle ſtarts a queſtion, Whether a people may not be happy in ſociety, and be qualified for good government, upon principles of morality ſingly, without any ſenſe of religion? The queſtion is ingenious, and may give opportunity for ſubtile reaſoning; but it is uſeleſs, becauſe the fact ſuppoſed cannot happen. The principles of morality and of religion are equally rooted in our nature: they are indeed weak in children and in ſavages; but they grow up together, and advance toward maturity with equal ſteps. Whereever the moral ſenſe is in perfection, a ſenſe of religion cannot be wanting; and if a man who has no ſenſe of religion, live decently in ſociety, he is more indebted for his conduct to good temper than to ſound morals.

[226] We have the authority of the Prophet Micah, formerly quoted, for holding, that religion, or, in other words, our duty to God, conſiſts in doing juſtice, in loving mercy, and in walking humbly with him. The laſt is the foundation of religious worſhip, diſcuſſed in the foregoing ſection: the two former belong to the preſent head. And if we have gratitude to our Maker and Benefactor, if we owe implicit obedience to his will as our rightful ſovereign, we ought not to ſeparate the worſhip we owe to him, from juſtice and benevolence to our fellow-creatures; for to be unjuſt to them, to be cruel or hard-hearted, is a tranſgreſſion of his will, no leſs groſs than a total neglect of religious worſhip. ‘"Maſter, which is the great commandment in the law? Jeſus ſaid unto him, Thou ſhalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy ſoul, and with all thy mind. This is the firſt and great commandment. And the ſecond is like unto it, Thou ſhalt love thy neighbour as thyſelf. On theſe two commandments hang all the law and the prophetsa."’ ‘"Then ſhall the King ſay unto them on his right hand, Come, ye bleſſed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you. For I was hungry, and ye gave me meat: I was thirſty, and ye gave me drink: I was a ſtranger, and ye took me in: naked, and ye cloathed me: ſick, and ye viſited me: in priſon, and ye came unto me. Then ſhall the righteous anſwer, ſaying, Lord, when ſaw we thee hungry, and fed thee? or thirſty, and gave thee drink? When ſaw we thee a ſtranger, and took thee in? or naked, and cloathed thee? When ſaw we thee ſick, or [227] in priſon, and came unto thee? And the King ſhall anſwer, Verily I ſay unto you, in as much as ye have done it unto one of the leaſt of theſe my brethren, ye have done it unto mea."’ ‘"Pure religion and undefiled before God, is this, To viſit the fatherleſs and widow in their affliction; and to keep himſelf unſpotted from the worldb."’ ‘"Hoſtias et victimas Domino offeram quas in uſum mei protulit, ut rejiciam ei ſuum munus? Ingratum eſt; cum ſit litabilis hoſtia bonus animus, et pura mens, et ſincera conſcientia. Igitur qui innocentiam colit, Domino ſupplicat; qui juſtitiam, Deo libat; qui fraudibus abſtinet, propitiat Deum; qui hominem periculo ſubripit, optimam victimam caedit. Haec noſtra ſacrificia, haec Dei ſacra ſunt. Sic apud nos religioſior eſt ille, qui juſtior* c."’ The laws of Zaleucus, lawgiver to the Locrians, who lived before the [228] days of Pythagoras, are introduced with the following preamble. ‘"No man can queſtion the exiſtence of Deity who obſerves the order and harmony of the univerſe, which cannot be the production of chance. Men ought to bridle their paſſions, and to guard againſt every vice. God is pleaſed with no ſacrifice but a ſincere heart: and differs widely from mortals, whoſe delight are ſplendid ceremonies and rich offerings. Let juſtice therefore be ſtudied; for by that only can a man be acceptable to the Deity. Let thoſe who are tempted to do ill, have always before their eyes the ſevere judgments of the gods againſt wicked men. Let them always keep in view the hour of death, that fatal hour which is attended with bitter remorſe for tranſgreſſing the rules of juſtice. If a bad diſpoſition incline you to vice, pray to Heaven at the foot of the altar, to mend your heart."’

Morality is thus included in religion. Some nations, however, leave not this propoſition to reaſoning or conviction, but ingroſs many moral duties in their religious creed. In the 67th chapter of the Sadder, a lie is declared to be a great ſin, and is diſcharged even where it tends to bring about good. So much purer is the morality of the ancient Perſians than of the preſent Juſuits. The religion of the people of Pegu, inculcates charity, forbids to kill, to ſteal, or to injure others. Attend to the conſequence: that people, fierce originally, have become humane and compaſſionate. In a ſacred book of the ancient Perſians, it is written, ‘"If you incline to be a ſaint, give good education to your children; for their virtuous actions will be imputed to you."’ The people of Japan pay great reſpect to their parents; it being an article in their creed, That thoſe who fail [229] in duty to their parents, will be puniſhed by the gods. In theſe two inſtances, religion tends greatly to connect parents and children in the moſt intimate tie of cordial affection. The reverence the Chineſe have for their anceſtors, and the ceremonies performed annually at their tombs, tend to keep them at home, and prevent their wandering into foreign countries.

Superſtitious rites in ſome religions, are ſucceſsfully employed to enforce certain moral duties. The Romans commonly made their ſolemn covenants in the capitol, before the ſtatue of Jupiter; by which ſolemnity he was underſtood to guarantee the covenant, ready to pour out vengeance upon the tranſgreſſor. The Burates, a people in Grand Tartary, have a cuſtom, which is, to demand an oath upon a mountain, held to be ſacred. They are firmly perſuaded, that the perſon who ſwears a falſehood, will not come down alive. The Eſſenes, a Jewiſh ſect, bound themſelves by a ſolemn oath, to ſhun unlawful gain, to be faithful to their promiſes, not to lie, and never to harm any one. In Cochin-China, the ſouls of thoſe who have been eminent for arts or arms, are worſhipped. Their ſtatues are placed in the temples; and the ſize of a ſtatue is proportioned to the merit of the perſon repreſented. If that cuſtom be executed with candour, there cannot be a nobler incitement to public ſpirit. The Egyptians did not reach the thought of honouring virtue after death; but they diſhonoured vice, by prohibiting it from the Elyſian fields.

The ſalutary influence of religion on morality, is not confined to pure religion, whether by its connection with morality in general, or by inculcating particular moral duties. There are many religious doctrines, doubtful or perhaps erroneous, [230] that contribute alſo to enforce morality. Some followers of Confucius aſcribe immortality to the ſouls only of the juſt; and believe that the ſouls of the wicked periſh with their bodies. In the ſecond chapter of the Sadder, it is written, that a man whoſe good works are more numerous than his ſins, will go to paradiſe; otherwiſe that he will be thruſt into hell, there to remain for ever. It adds, that a bridge erected over the great abyſs where hell is ſituated, leads from this earth to paradiſe; that upon the bridge there ſtands an angel, who weighs in a balance the merits of the paſſengers; that the paſſenger whoſe good works are found light in the balance, is thrown over the bridge into hell; but that the paſſenger whoſe good works preponderate, proceeds in his journey to paradiſe, where there is a glorious city, gardens, rivers, and beautiful virgins, whoſe looks are a perpetual feaſt, but who muſt not be enjoyed. In the fourth chapter of the Sadder, good works are zealouſly recommended in the following parable. Zeraduſht, or Zoroaſter, being in company with God, ſaw a man in hell who wanted his right foot. ‘"Oh my Creator," ſaid Zoroaſter, who is that man who wants the right foot? God anſwered, He was the king of thirty-three cities, reigned many years, but never did any good, except once, when, ſeeing a ſheep tyed where it could not reach its food, he with his right foot puſhed the food to it; upon which account, that foot was ſaved from hell."’ In Japan, thoſe of the Sinto religion believe, that the ſouls of good men are tranſlated to a place of happineſs, next to the habitation of their gods. But they admit no place of torment; nor have they any notion of a devil, but what animates the fox, a very miſchievous animal in that country. What then becomes of the ſouls [231] of ill men? Being denied entrance into heaven, they wander about to expiate their ſins. Thoſe of the Bubſdo religion believe, that in the other world, there is a place of miſery as well as of happineſs. Of the latter, there are different degrees, for different degrees of virtue; and yet, far from envying the happier lot of others, every inhabitant is perfectly ſatisfied with his own. There are alſo different degrees of miſery; for juſtice requires, that every man be puniſhed according to the nature and number of his ſins. Jemma O is the ſevere judge of the wicked: their vices appear to him in all their horror, by means of a mirror, named the mirror of knowledge. When ſouls have expiated their ſins, after ſuffering long in the priſon of darkneſs, they are ſent back into the world, to animate ſerpents, toads, and ſuch vile animals as reſembled them in their former exiſtence. From theſe they paſs into the bodies of more innocent animals; and at laſt are again ſuffered to enter human bodies; after the diſſolution of which, they run the ſame courſe of happineſs or miſery as at firſt. The people of Benin, in Africa, believe a man's ſhadow to be a real being, that gives teſtimony after death for or againſt him; and that he accordingly is made happy or miſerable in another world. A religious belief in ancient Greece, that the ſouls of thoſe who are left above ground without rites, have no acceſs to Elyſium, tended to promote humanity; for thoſe who are careful of the dead, will not be altogether indifferent about the living.

Immenſe are the bleſſings that men in ſociety reap, from the union of pure religion with ſound morality: but however immenſe, I boldly affirm, that they ſcarce counterbalance the manifold evils that ſociety has ſuffered from impure religion, [232] indulging and even encouraging groſs immoralities. A few of the moſt glaring inſtances ſhall be ſelected. The firſt I ſhall mention is, the holding religion to conſiſt in the belief of points purely ſpeculative, ſuch as have no relation to good works. The natural effect of that doctrine is, to divorce religion from morality, in manifeſt contradiction to the will of God. What avails it, for example, to the glory of God, or to the happineſs of mankind, whether the conception of the Virgin Mary was maculate or immaculate? The following few inſtances, taken out of a large heap, are controverſies of that kind, which miſerably afflicted the Chriſtian church for ages, and engendered the bittereſt enmity, raging with deſtruction and ſlaughter among brethren of the ſame religion. In the fifth century, it was the employment of more than one general council, to determine, whether the mother of God, or the mother of Chriſt, is the proper epithet of the Virgin Mary. In the ſixth century, a bitter controverſy aroſe, whether Chriſt's body was corruptible. In the ſeventh century, Chriſtians were divided about the volition of Chriſt, whether he had one or two Wills, and how his Will operated. In the eighth and ninth centuries, the Greek and Latin churches divided about the Holy Ghoſt, whether he proceeded from the Father and Son, or only from the Father. In the eleventh century, there aroſe a warm conteſt between the Greek and Latin churches, about uſing unleavened bread in the euchariſt. In the fourteenth century, it was controverted between Pope John XXII. and the divines of his time, whether ſouls in their intermediate ſtate ſee God, or only the human nature of Chriſt. Franciſcans have ſuffered death in multitudes about the form of their hood. It was diſputed between the Dominicans and Franciſcans, [233] whether Chriſt had any property. The Pope pronounced the negative propoſition to be a peſtilential and blaſphemous doctrine, ſubverſive of Catholic faith. Many councils were held at Conſtantinople, to determine what ſort of light it was that the diſciples ſaw on Mount Tabor: it was ſolemnly pronounced, to be the eternal light with which God is encircled; and which may be termed his energy or operation, but is diſtinct from his nature and eſſence. A heap of propoſitions in the creed of St Athanaſius, as far as intelligible, are merely ſpeculative, ſuch as may be adopted or rejected, without the leaſt danger to religion, or to morality; and yet we are commanded to believe every one of them, under the pain of eternal damnation. An endleſs number of ſuch propoſitions, adopted by the Romiſh church, clearly evince, that Chriſtianity was in that church held to conſiſt entirely in belief, without any regard to good works*. Whether the Alcoran was eternal, or whether it was created, is a diſpute that has occaſioned much effuſion of Mahometan blood. The Calif Mamoun, with many doctors, held it to have been created; but the greater number inſiſted, that being the word of God, it muſt like him be eternal. This opinion is embraced by the preſent Mahometants, who hold all who deny it to be infidels. There is among men great uniformity of opinion in matters of importance. Religious differences are generally about trifles, where liberty ought to be indulged without [234] reſervea; and yet upon theſe trifles, are founded the bittereſt enmities. It ought therefore to be a fundamental law in every church, to abſtain from loading its creed with articles that are not eſſential; for ſuch articles tend to eradicate brotherly love, and to convert into bitter enemies, men who are fundamentally of the ſame faith.

In the next place ſhall be mentioned, certain articles of faith that tend to ſap the very foundation of one or other moral duty. What, for example, can more effectually promote cruelty, than the creed of the Idaans, a people in the iſland of Borneo, That every perſon they put to death muſt attend them as a ſlave in the other world? This belief makes them prone to war, and occaſions aſſaſſinations without end. According to the creed of the ſavages in Canada, the killing and burning enemies are what chiefly entitle them to be happy in another world, and that he who deſtroys the greateſt number, will be the moſt happy. At the ſame time, they have no notion of greater happineſs there, than plenty of game, great abundance of all things without labour, and full gratification of every ſenſual appetite. The Scandinavians had no notion of greater bliſs in another world, than to drink beer out of the ſkull of an enemy, in the hall of Woden, their tutelar deity: can hatred and revenge in this world be more honourably rewarded? The doctrine of tutelar deities is equally productive of hatred and revenge: relying on a ſuperior power who eſpouſes all my quarrels, I put no bounds to my reſentment, and every moral duty in oppoſition is trampled under foot. The [235] following creed of the inhabitants of the Marian or Ladrone iſlands, is a great encouragement to cowardice. Heaven, according to that creed, is a region under the earth, filled with cocoa-trees, ſugar-canes, and variety of other delicious fruits. Hell is a vaſt furnace, conſtantly red hot. Their condition in the other world depends not on good or bad actions, but on the manner of their death. Thoſe who die a natural death, go ſtraight to heaven: they may ſin freely, if they can but ſecure their perſons againſt violence. But war and bloodſhed are their averſion, becauſe thoſe who ſuffer a violent death go ſtraight to hell. In many ancient nations, a goddeſs was worſhipped, whoſe province it was to promote animal love without regard to matrimony. That goddeſs was in Greece termed Aphrodité, in Rome Venus, and in Babylon Militta. To her was ſacrificed, in ſome countries, the virginity of young women; which, it was believed, did ſecure their chaſtity for ever after. Juſtin mentions a cuſtom in the iſland of Cyprus, of ſending young women at ſtated times to the ſea-ſhore; where they proſtituted themſelves as a tribute to Venus, that they might be chaſte the reſt of their lives. His words are, ‘"Pro reliqua pudicitiae libamenta Veneri ſoluturasa."’ In other nations, a ſmall number only were proſtituted, in order to ſecure to the remainder, a chaſte and regular life. This explains a cuſtom among the Babylonians, which, far from being thought a religious act, is held as a proof of abandoned debauchery. The cuſtom was, That every woman once in her life, ſhould proſtitute herſelf in the temple of the goddeſs Mylitta. Herodotus reports, that thereby [236] they became proof againſt all temptation. And Aelian obſerves the ſame of the Lydian ladies. Credat Judaeus Apella. Margaret Poretta, who in the fourteenth century made a figure among the Beguines, preached a doctrine not a little favourable to incontinence. She undertook to demonſtrate, ‘"That the ſoul, when abſorbed in the love of God, is free from the reſtraint of law, and may freely gratify every natural appetite, without contracting guilt;"’ a cordial doctrine for a lady of pleaſure. That crazy perſon, inſtead of being laughed at, was burnt alive at Paris. In the fifteenth century, a ſect termed brethren and ſiſters of the free ſpirit, held, That modeſty is a mark of inhering corruption; and that thoſe only are perfect, who can behold nakedneſs without emotion. Theſe fanatics appeared at public worſhip, without the leaſt covering. Many tenets profeſſed by the Jeſuits, open a door to every immorality. ‘"Perſons truly wicked, and void of the love of God, may expect eternal life in heaven; provided only they be impreſſed with fear of divine anger, and avoid heinous crimes through the dread of future puniſhment."’ Again, ‘"Perſons may tranſgreſs with ſafety, who have a probable reaſon for tranſgreſſing, ſuch as any plauſible argument. A judge, for example, may decide for the leaſt probable ſide of a queſtion, and even againſt his own opinion, provided he be ſupported by any tolerable authority."’ Again, ‘"Actions intrinſically evil, and contrary to divine law, may however be innocently performed, by thoſe who can join, even ideally, a good end to the performance. For example, an eccleſiaſtic may ſafely commit ſimony, by purchaſing a benefice, if to the unlawful act, he join the innocent purpoſe [237] of procuring to himſelf a ſubſiſtence. A man who runs another through the body for a ſlight affront, renders the action lawful, if his motive be honour, not revenge."’ A famous Jeſuit taught, that a young man may wiſh the death of his father, and even rejoice at his death, provided the wiſh proceed, not from hatred, but from fondneſs of his father's eſtate. And another Jeſuit has had the effrontery to maintain, that a monk may lawfully aſſaſſinate a calumniator, who threatens to charge his order with ſcandalous practices.

A doctrine that ſtrikes at the root of every moral duty, as well as of religion itſelf, is, That God will accept of a compoſition for ſin; a doctrine that prevailed univerſally during the days of ignorance. Compoſitions for crimes were countenanced by law in every countrya; and men, prone to indulge their paſſions, flattered themſelves, that they might compound with God for ſinning againſt him, as with their neighbours for injuring them. Thoſe who have no notion of any motive but intereſt, naturally think it to be equally powerful with the Deity. An opinion prevailed univerſally in the Chriſtian church, from the eighth century down to the Reformation, that liberal donations to God, to a ſaint, to the church, would procure pardon even for the groſſeſt ſins. During that period, the building churches and monaſteries was in high vogue. This abſurd or rather impious doctrine, proved a plentiful harveſt of wealth to the clergy; for the great and opulent, who are commonly the boldeſt ſinners, have the greateſt ability to compound for their ſins. There needs nothing but ſuch an opinion, to annihilate every duty, whether [238] moral or religious; for what wicked man will think either of reſtitution or of reformation, who can purchaſe a pardon from Heaven with ſo little trouble? Louis XI. of France was remarkably ſuperſtitious, even in a ſuperſtitious age. To ingratiate himſelf with the Virgin Mary, he ſurrendered to her the county of Boulogne with great ſolemnity. Voltaire remarks, that godlineſs conſiſts, not in making the Virgin a Counteſs, but in abſtaining from ſin. Compoſition for ſins is a doctrine of the church of Rome, boldly profeſſed without diſguiſe. A book of rates, publiſhed by authority of the Pope, contains ſtated prices for abſolutions, not excepting the moſt heinous ſins that men are capable to commit. So true is the obſervation of Aeneas Silvius, afterward Pope Paul II. ‘"Nihil eſt quod abſque argento Romana curia det: ipſa manuum impoſitio, et Spiritus Sancti dona, venduntur; nec peccatorum venia niſi nummatis impenditur*."’ Of all the immoral atonements for ſin, human ſacrifices are the moſt brutal; deviating no leſs from the purity of religion, than from the fundamental principles of morality. They wore out of uſe as kindly affections prevailed; and will never again be reſtored, unleſs we fall back to the ſavage manners of our forefathers. Compoſition for crimes, once univerſal, is now baniſhed from every enlightened nation. Compoſition for ſins, was once equally univerſal; and I wiſh it could be ſaid, that there are [239] now no remains of that poiſonous opinion among Chriſtians: the practice of the church of Rome will not permit it to be ſaid. Were men deeply convinced, as they ought to be, that ſincere repentance and reformation of manners are the only means for obtaining pardon, they would never dream of making bargains with the Almighty, and of compounding with him for their ſins.

In the practice of religion, the laying too great weight on forms, ceremonies, and other external arbitrary acts, has an unhappy tendency on morality. That error has infected every religion. The Sadder, the Bible of the Gaures, prohibits calumny and detraction, lying, ſtealing, adultery, and fornication. It however enervates morality and religion, by placing many trifling acts on a level with the moſt important duties. It enjoins the deſtruction of five kinds of reptiles, frogs, mice, ants, ſerpents, and flies that ſting. It teaches, that to walk barefoot profanes the ground. Great regard for water is enjoined: it muſt not be uſed during the night; and when ſet upon the fire, a third part of the pot muſt be empty, to prevent boiling over. The bramins have wofully degenerated from their original inſtitutions, thinking at preſent, that religion conſiſts in forms and ceremonies. As ſoon as an infant is born, the word Oum muſt be pronounced over it; otherwiſe it will be eternally miſerable: its tongue muſt be rubbed with conſecrated meal: the third day of the moon, it muſt be carried into open air, with its head to the north. The inhabitants of Formoſa believe in hell; but it is only for puniſhing thoſe who fail to go naked in certain ſeaſons, or who wear cotton inſtead of ſilk. In the time of Ghenhizcan, it was held in Tartary a mortal ſin, to put a knife into the fire, to whip a horſe with his bridle, or to break one [240] bone with another; and yet theſe pious Tartars held treachery, robbery, murder, to be no ſins. A faction in Aegina, a Greek commonwealth, treacherouſly aſſaſſinated ſeven hundred of their fellow-citizens. They cut off the hands of a miſerable fugitive, who had laid hold of the altar for protection, in order to murder him without the precincts of the temple. Their treacherous aſſaſſinations made no impreſſion: but though they refrained from murder in the temple, yet by profaning it with blood, ſays Herodotus, they offended the gods, and contracted inexpiable guilt. Would one believe, that a tribunal was eſtabliſhed by Charlemagne more horrible than the inquiſition itſelf? It was eſtabliſhed in Weſtphalia, to puniſh with death every Saxon who eat meat in lent. The ſame law was eſtabliſhed in Flanders and in French-county, the beginning of the ſeventeenth century.

Liſten to a celebrated writer upon that poiſonous conceit. ‘"It is certain, that in every religion, however ſublime, many of the votaries, perhaps the greateſt number, will ſtill ſeek the divine favour, not by virtue and good morals, which alone can be acceptable to a perfect being, but either by frivolous obſervances, by intemperate zeal, by rapturous ecſtaſies, or by the belief of myſterious and abſurd opinions. When the old Romans were attacked with a peſtilence, they never aſcribed their ſufferings to their vices, or dreamed of repentance and amendment. They never thought that they were the general robbers of the world, whoſe ambition and avarice made deſolate the earth, and reduced opulent nations to want and beggary. They only created a dictator in order to drive a nail into a door; and by that means they thought that they had [241] ſufficiently appeaſed their incenſed deitya."’ Thus, gradually, the eſſentials of religion wear out of mind, by the attention given to forms and ceremonies: theſe intercept and exhauſt the whole ſtock of devotion, which ought to be reſerved for the higher exerciſes of religion. The neglect or tranſgreſſion of mere punctilios, are puniſhed as heinous ſins; while ſins really heinous are ſuffered to paſs with impunity. The Jews exalted the keeping their ſabbath holy, above every other duty; and it was the general belief, that the ſtrict obſervance of that day was alone ſufficient to atone for every ſin. The command of reſting that day, was taken ſo literally, that they would not on that day defend themſelves even againſt an aſſaſſin. Ptolomy, ſon of Lagus, entered Jeruſalem on the Jewiſh ſabbath, in a hoſtile manner without reſiſtance. Nor did experience open the eyes of that fooliſh people. Xiphilin, relating the ſiege of Jeruſalem by Pompey, ſays, that if the Jews had not reſted on the ſabbath, Pompey would not have been ſucceſsful. Every Saturday he renewed his batteries: and having on that day made a breach, he marched into the town without oppoſition. One cannot help ſmiling at an Amſterdam Jew, who had no check of conſcience, for breaking open a houſe, and carrying off money; and yet being ſtopped in his flight by the ſabbath before he got out of the territory, he moſt piouſly reſted, till he was apprehended, and led to the gallows. Nor are the Jews to this day cured of that frenzy. In ſome late accountsfrom Conſtantinople, a fire broke out in a Jew's houſe on Saturday: [242] rather than profane the ſabbath, he ſuffered the flames to ſpread, which occaſioned the deſtruction of five hundred houſes*. We laugh at the Jews, and we have reaſon; and yet there are many well-meaning Proteſtants, who lay the whole of religion upon punctual attendance at public worſhip. Are the Roman Catholics leſs ſuperſtitious with reſpect to the place of worſhip, than the Jews are with reſpect to the day of worſhip? In the year 1670, ſome Arabians, watching an opportunity, got into the town of Dieu when the gates were opened in the morning. They might eaſily have been expelled by the canon of the citadel; but the Portugueſe governor was obliged to look on without firing a gun, being threatened with excommunication, if the leaſt miſchief ſhould be done to any of the churches. The only doctrines inculcated from the Romiſh pulpit down to the Reformation, were the authority of holy mother church; the merit of the ſaints, and their credit in the court of heaven; the dignity, glory, and love of the bleſſed Virgin; the efficacy of relics; the intolerable fire of purgatory; and the vaſt importance of [243] indulgences. Relying on ſuch pious acts for obtaining remiſſion of ſins, all orders of men ruſhed headlong into vice; nor was there a ſingle attempt to ſtem the current of immorality; for the traffic of indulgences could not but flouriſh in proportion to the growth of ſin. And thus was religion ſet in direct oppoſition to morality. St Eloy, biſhop of Noyon in the ſeventh century, and canonized by the church of Rome, delivers the following doctrine. ‘"He is a good Chriſtian who goes frequently to church; who preſents his oblations upon the altar; who taſtes not the fruit of his own induſtry till part be conſecrated to God; who, when the holy feſtivals approach, lives chaſtely even with his own wife for ſeveral days; and who can repeat the creed and the Lord's prayer. Redeem then your ſouls from deſtruction, while you have the means in your power: offer preſents and tithes to churchmen: come more frequently to church: humbly implore the patronage of ſaints. If you obſerve theſe things, you may, in the day of judgment, go with confidence to the tribunal of the eternal Judge, and ſay, Give to us, O Lord, for we have given unto thee."’ A modern author ſubjoins a proper obſervation. ‘"We ſee here a very ample deſcription of a good Chriſtian, in which there is not the leaſt mention of the love [244] of God, reſignation to his will, obedience to his laws, nor of juſtice, benevolence, nor charity."’ Groſs ignorance and wretched ſuperſtition prevailed ſo much even in the fourteenth century, that people reckoned themſelves ſecure of ſalvation, if at the day of judgment they could ſhow any connection with monks. Many at the point of death, made it their laſt requeſt, to be admitted into the mendicant order, or to be interred in their burial-place. Religion need not aſſociate with morality, if ſuch ſilly practices be ſufficient for obtaining the favour of God. Is this leſs abſurd than the Hindoſtan belief, That the water of the Ganges hath a ſanctifying virtue; and that thoſe who die on its banks, are not only exempted from future puniſhment, but are wafted ſtraight to paradiſe?

Forms and ceremonies are viſible acts, which make a deep impreſſion on the vulgar. Hence their influence in reaſoning and in morality, as we have ſeen in the two ſketches immediately foregoing; and hence alſo their influence in religion. Forms and ceremonies are uſeful at public worſhip; but they ought not to take place of eſſentials. People however, governed by what they ſee and hear, are more addicted to external acts of devotion, than to heart-worſhip, which is not known but by reflection.

It will be no excuſe for relying ſo much on forms and ceremonies, that they are innocent. In themſelves they may be innocent; but not ſo in their conſequences. For they have by ſuch reliance a violent tendency to relax the obligations of morality. Religious rites that contradict not any paſſion, are keenly embraced, and punctually performed; and men, flattering themſelves that they have thus been punctual in their duty to God, give vent to their paſſions againſt men. ‘"They [245] pay tithes of mint, and aniſe, and cummin; but omit the weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and faitha."’ Upon ſuch a man religion ſits extremely light. As he ſeldom exerciſes any act of genuine devotion, he thinks of the Deity with eaſe and familiarity: how otherwiſe is it accountable, that the plays, termed Myſteries, could be reliſhed, where mean and perhaps diſſolute perſons are brought on the ſtage, acting Jeſus Chriſt, the Virgin Mary, and even God himſelf? Theſe divine perſons were certainly not more regarded, than the Grecian gods, who frequently made part of the Dramatis perſonae in Greek plays. Many other facts might be urged, to prove the low ebb of religion in thoſe days: I ſelect one or two, which probably will afford ſome amuſement to the reader. Bartolus, the famous lawyer, in order to ſhew the form of proceeding in a court of juſtice, imagines a proceſs between the devil and mankind. The devil cites mankind to appear at the tribunal of Jeſus Chriſt, claiming them as belonging to him by Adam's fall. He ſwells in rage, demanding whether any one dares appear in their behalf. Againſt the Virgin Mary, offering herſelf as their advocate, the devil makes two objections; firſt, That being the mother of the Judge, her influence would be too great; ſecond, That a woman is debarred from being an advocate: and theſe objections are ſupported by numberleſs quotations from the Corpus Juris. The Virgin, on her part, quotes texts permitting women to appear for widows, orphans, and for perſons in diſtreſs. She is allowed to plead for mankind, as coming under the laſt article. The devil urges preſcription, as [246] having been in poſſeſſion of mankind ever ſince the fall. The Virgin anſwers, That a mala-fide poſſeſſor cannot acquire by preſcription. Preſcription being repelled, the parties go to the merits of the cauſe, which are learnedly diſcuſſed with texts from the Pandects. The memoirs of the French academy of Belles Lettersa have the following ſtory. A monk returning from a houſe which he durſt not viſit in day-light, had a river to croſs. The boat was overturned by Satan, and the monk was drowned when he was beginning to invocate the Virgin Mary. Two devils having laid hold of his ſoul, were ſtopped by two angels. ‘"My Lords,"’ ſaid the devils, ‘"true it is, and not a fable, that God died for his friends; but this monk was an enemy to God, and we are carrying him to hell."’ After much altercation, it was propoſed by the angels, to refer the diſpute to the Virgin Mary. The devils were willing to accept of God for judge, becauſe he would judge according to law. ‘"But from the Virgin Mary,"’ ſaid they, ‘"we expect no juſtice: ſhe would break to atoms every gate of hell, rather than ſuffer one to remain there a moment who pays any worſhip to her image. She may ſay, that black is white, and that puddled water is pure.—God never contradicts her. The day on which God made his mother, was a fatal day to us."’

People who profeſs the ſame religion, and differ only in forms and ceremonies, may juſtly be compared to neighbouring ſtates, who are commonly bitter enemies to each other, if they have any difference. At the ſame time, diſſocial paſſions never rage ſo furiouſly, as under the maſk of [247] religion; for in that caſe they are held to be meritorious, as exerted in the cauſe of God. This obſervation is but too well verified in the diſputes among Chriſtians. However low religion was in the dark ages, yet men fought for forms and ceremonies as pro aris et focis. In the Armenian form of baptiſm, the prieſt ſays at the firſt immerſion, In name of the Father; at the ſecond, In name of the Son; at the third, In name of the Holy Ghoſt. This form is bitterly condemned by the Romiſh church, which appoints the three perſons of the Trinity to be joined in the ſame expreſſion, in token of their union. Strahlenberg gives an account of a Chriſtian ſect in Ruſſia, which differs from the eſtabliſhed Greek church in the following particulars. Firſt, In public worſhip they repeat Halleluia but twice; and it is a mortal ſin to repeat it thrice. Second, In celebrating maſs, not five but ſeven loaves ought to be uſed. Third, The croſs ſtamped upon a maſs-loaf ought to have eight corners. Fourth, In ſigning with the croſs at prayers, the end of the ring-finger muſt be joined to the end of the thumb, and the two intermediate fingers be held out at full length. How trifling are theſe differences! and yet for ſuch differences, all who diſſent from them are held unclean, and no better than Pagans: they will not eat nor drink with any of the eſtabliſhed church; and if a perſon of that church happen to ſit down in a houſe of theirs, they waſh and purify the ſeat*. There are few ſects founded [248] upon more triival differences than the Turkiſh and Perſian Mahometans. The epithets given to the Perſians by the Turks are, ‘"Forſaken of God, Abominable, Blaſphemers of the Holy Prophet;"’ and ſo bitter is their enmity to the Perſians, that the ſchools of the ſeraglio are open to young men of all nations, thoſe of Perſia alone excepted. The Perſians are held to be ſuch apoſtates from the true faith, as to be utterly paſt recovery: they receive no quarter in war, being accounted unworthy of life or ſlavery. Nor do the Perſians yield to the Turks in hatred. Whether coffee be or be not prohibited in the Alcoran, has produced much controverſy in the Mahometan church, and conſequently much perſecuting zeal. A mufti, not fond of coffee, declared it, like wine, to have an inebriating quality, and therefore was virtually prohibited by Mahomet. Another mufti, fond of coffee for its exhilarating virtue, declared it lawful; ‘"becauſe,"’ ſaid he, ‘"all things are lawful that are not expreſsly prohibited in the Alcoran."’ The coffee-houſes in Conſtantinople, were for a long period alternately opened and ſhut, according to the taſte of the reigning mufti; till coffee at laſt, ſurmounting all obſtacles, came to be an eſtabliſhed Mahometan liquor. Religion thus runs wild, whenever it loſes ſight of its true ends, that of worſhipping God, and that of being juſt to man. The Hindows hate the Mahometans for eating the fleſh of cows: the Mahometans hate the Hindows for eating the fleſh of ſwine. The averſion that men of the ſame religion have at each other for the moſt [249] trivial differences, converts them frequently into brutal ſavages. Suppoſe, for example, that a poor man, reduced to the extremity of hunger, makes a greedy meal of a dead horſe, a caſe ſo deplorable would wring every heart. And yet, let this be done in Lent, or on a meagre day—Behold! every zealot is inſtantly metamorphoſed into a devil incarnate. In the records of St Claude, a ſmall diſtrict of Burgundy, is engroſſed a ſentence againſt a poor gentleman named Claude Guillon. The words are, ‘"Having conſidered the proceſs, and taken advice of the doctors of law, we declare the ſaid Claude Guillon duly convicted for having carried away and boiled a piece of a dead horſe, and of having eat the ſame on the 31ſt March, being Saturday."’ And he was beheaded accordingly 28th July 1629; notwithſtanding a defence above all exception, That he committed that irregularity to preſerve his life. How was it poſſible for the monſters to perſuade themſelves, that this ſentence was agreeable to God, who is goodneſs itſelf!

No leſs prejudicial to morality, than the relying too much on forms and ceremonies, is the treating ſome ſins with great ſeverity; neglecting others equally heinous, or perhaps more ſo. In a book of rates for abſolution, mentioned above, no juſt diſtinction is made among ſins; ſome venial ſins being taxed at a higher rate than many of the deepeſt dye. For example, the killing father, mother, brother, ſiſter, or wife, is taxed at five groſs; and the ſame for inceſt with a mother or ſiſter. The lying with a woman in the church is taxed at ſix groſs; and at the ſame time, abſolution for uſury is taxed at ſeven groſs, and for ſimony at no leſs than ſixteen groſs*.

[250] A maxim adopted by many pious perſons, has a ſmiling appearance, but in its conſequences is hurtful both to religion and morality; which is, That to teſtify our veneration for the Deity, and zeal for his ſervice, the performing public and private worſhip, and the fulfilling moral duties, are not alone ſufficient; that over and above we are bound to faſt, to do penance, to honour the prieſthood, and to puniſh the enemies of God, i. e. thoſe who differ from us in principles or practice. This maxim, which may be termed the doctrine of ſupererogation, is finely illuſtrated by an author mentioned above. ‘"The duties which a man performs as a friend or parent, ſeem merely owing to his benefactor or children; nor can he be wanting to theſe duties without breaking through all the ties of nature and morality. A ſtrong inclination may prompt him to the performance: a ſentiment of order and moral beauty joins its force to theſe natural ties: and the whole man is drawn to his duty without any effort or endeavour. Even with regard to the virtues which are more auſtere, and more founded on reflection, ſuch as public ſpirit, filial duty, temperance, or integrity: the moral obligation, in our apprehenſion, removes all pretence to religious merit: and the virtuous conduct is eſteemed no more than what we owe to ſociety, and to ourſelves. In all this, a ſuperſtitious man finds nothing which he has properly performed for the ſake of his Deity, or which can peculiarly recommend him to the divine favour and protection. He conſiders not, that the moſt genuine method of ſerving the Divinity is by promoting the happineſs of his creatures. He ſtill looks out for ſome more immediate ſervice of the ſupreme Being: and [251] any practice recommended to him, which either ſerves to no purpoſe in life, or offers the ſtrongeſt violence to his natural inclinations; that practice he will the more readily embrace, on account of thoſe very circumſtances, which ſhould make him abſolutely reject it. It ſeems the more purely religious, that it proceeds from no mixture of any other motive or conſideration. And if for its ſake he ſacrifices much of his eaſe and quiet, his claim of merit appears ſtill to riſe upon him, in proportion to the zeal and devotion which he diſcovers. In reſtoring a loan, or paying a debt, his divinity is no wiſe beholden to him; becauſe theſe acts of juſtice are what he was bound to perform, and what many would have performed, were there no God in the univerſe. But if he faſt a day, or give himſelf a ſound whipping, this has a direct reference, in his opinion, to the ſervice of God. No other motive could engage him to ſuch auſterities. By theſe diſtinguiſhed marks of devotion, he has now acquired the divine favour; and may expect in recompence, protection and ſafety in this world, and eternal happineſs in the nexta."’ My yoke is eaſy, ſaith our Saviour, and my burden is light. So they really are. Every eſſential of religion is founded on our nature, and to a pure heart is pleaſant in the performance: what can be more pleaſant, than gratitude to our Maker, and obedience to his will in comforting our fellow-creatures? But enthuſiaſts are not eaſily perſuaded, that to make ourſelves happy in the exerciſes of piety and benevolence, is the moſt acceptable ſervice to God that we can perform. In loading religion [252] with unneceſſary articles of faith and practice, they contradict our Saviour, by making his yoke ſevere, and his burden heavy*. Law, upon Chriſtian perfection, enjoins ſuch unnatural auſterity of manners, as to be ſubverſive both of religion and morality: looſe education is not more ſo. Our paſſions, when denied their proper exerciſe, are apt to break their fetters, and to plunge us into every extravagance: like the body, which ſqueezed in one part, ſwells the more in another. In the ſame way of thinking, the pious Jeremy Taylor, treating of mortification, preſcribes it as the indiſpenſable duty of a Chriſtian, to give no indulgence even to the moſt innocent emotions; becauſe, ſays he, the moſt indifferent action becomes ſinful, when there is no other motive for the performance but barely its being pleaſant. Could a malevolent deity contrive any thing more ſevere againſt his votaries?

In the ſame ſpirit of ſupererogation, holidays have been multiplied without end, depriving the working poor of time, that would be more uſefully employed in providing bread for themſelves and families. Such a number of holidays, beſide contradicting Providence, which framed us more for action than contemplation, have ſeveral poiſonous effects with reſpect to morality. The moral ſenſe has great influence on the induſtrious, who have no time for indulging their irregular appetites: the idle, on the contrary, are obvious to every temptation. Men likewiſe are apt to aſſume great merit from a rigid obſervance of [253] holidays and other ceremonies; and having thus acquired, in their opinion, the favour of God, they rely on his indulgence in other matters which they think too ſweet for ſinners.

Monaſtic inſtitutions are an improvement upon holidays: the whole life of a monk is intended to be a holiday, dedicated entirely to the ſervice of God. The idleneſs of the monaſtic ſtate among Chriſtians, opens a wide door to immorality.

In the third ſection, penances are handled as a mode of worſhip, for obtaining pardon of ſin. But they are ſometimes ſubmitted to by the innocent, in order to procure from the Almighty ſtill more favour than innocence alone is intitled to; in which view they are evidently a work of ſupererogation. They ſeem to have no bad effect with reſpect to religion, as diſtinguiſhed from morality: the body is indeed cruciated unneceſſarily; but if enthuſiaſts voluntarily ſubmit to bodily diſtreſſes, they have themſelves only to blame. With reſpect to morality, their bad tendency is not ſlight. Thoſe who perform extraordinary acts of devotion, conceive themſelves peculiarly entitled to the favour of God. Proud of his favour, they attach themſelves to him alone, and turn indifferent about every other duty. The favourite of a terreſtrial potentate, aſſumes authority; and takes liberties that private perſons dare not venture upon: ſhall a favourite of Heaven be leſs indulged? The Faquirs in Hindoſtan ſubmit to dreadful penances; and, holding themſelves ſecure of God's favour, they are altogether indifferent about the duty they owe to their neighbour. So much are they above common decency, as to go about naked, not even concealing what modeſty forbids us to expoſe. The penances enjoined in the Romiſh [254] church, ſuch as faſting and flagellation, have evidently the ſame bad tendency*. With reſpect to faſting in particular, to what good purpoſe it can ſerve, except to gluttons, is not readily conceived. Temperance in eating and drinking is eſſential to health: too much or too little are equally noxious, though their effects are different. Faſting therefore ought never to be enjoined to the temperate as a religious duty, becauſe it cannot be acceptable to a benevolent Deity. Liſten to a great prophet on that ſubject. ‘"Behold, ye faſt for ſtrife and debate, and to ſmite with the fiſt of wickedneſs; ye ſhall not faſt as ye do this day, to make your voice to be heard on high. Is it ſuch a faſt that I have choſen? a day for a man to afflict his ſoul? Is it to bow down his head as a bulruſh, and to ſpread ſackcloth and aſhes under him? Wilt thou call this a faſt, and an acceptable day to the Lord? Is not this the faſt that I have choſen? to looſe the bands of wickedneſs, to undo the heavy burdens, and to let the oppreſſed go free, and that ye break every yoke? Is it not to deal thy bread to the hungry, and that thou bring the poor that are caſt out, to thy houſe? when thou ſeeſt the naked, that thou cover him, and that thou hide not thyſelf from thine own fleſha?"’

[255] The moſt extraordinary penance of all, is celibacy, conſidered as a religious duty. Many fathers of the church declare againſt matrimony. St. Jerom in particular ſays, That the end of matrimony is eternal death; that the earth indeed is filled by it, but heaven by virginity. The intemperate zeal of many primitive Chriſtians led them to abſtain from matrimony, and even from conjugal careſſes, if they had the misfortune to be married; believing that the carnal appetite is inconſiſtent with pure religion. Edward the confeſſor was ſainted, for no better reaſon than the abſtaining from matrimonial duties. Jovinian, in the fourth century, taught, that all who obſerve the laws of piety and virtue laid down in the goſpel, have an equal title to happineſs in another life: conſequently, that thoſe who paſs their days in celibacy and mortification, are in no reſpect more acceptable to God than thoſe who live virtuouſly in marriage without mortification. He publiſhed his opinions in a book, againſt which Jerom wrote a bitter and abuſive treatiſe, ſtill extant. Theſe opinions were condemned by the church, and by St. Ambroſe, in a council at Milan; and Jovinian was baniſhed by the Emperor Honorius. Such ridiculous ſelf-denial was not confined to Chriſtians. Strabo mentions a ſect among the Thracians, who made a vow of perpetual virginity; and were much reſpected on that account. Garcilaſſo mentions virgins in Peru conſecrated to the ſun: a veſtal guilty of frailty was buried alive, her lover hanged, and the inhabitants of the town where ſhe lived put to the ſword. Among all the abſurd acts of mortification, the preſent affords the ſtrongeſt inſtance of ſuperſtition triumphing over common ſenſe; for what can be more inconſiſtent with common ſenſe, not to talk [256] of religion, than an endeavour to put an end to the human ſpecies? Some glimpſes of reaſon have abated the zeal of enthuſiaſts for celebacy; but have not totally extirpated it, for celibacy of the clergy remains to this day a law in the Romiſh church. It cannot however ſeriouſly be thought the will of our benevolent God, that his prieſts ſhould be denied the exerciſe of natural powers, beſtowed on all for a moſt valuable purpoſe. This impious reſtraint, which contradicts the great law of Increaſe and multiply, has opened the door to groſs debauchery in the paſtors of the Romiſh church, though eccleſiaſtics ought of all men to be the moſt circumſpect in their conduct. Men reſtrained from what is neceſſary and proper, are more prone than others to break out into groſs irregularities*. Marriage is warmly recommended in the laws of Zoroaſter. Children are ſaid to be a bridge that conducts men to heaven; and a man who has no children, is held to be under the power of Ahriman. The prayer of a prieſt who has no children, is held diſagreeable to Ormuſd.

The celibacy of the clergy was countenanced by the Pope; and enforced from a political conſideration, [257] That it united the whole clergy into one firm body under his ſpiritual Majeſty. How ſhort-ſighted is man? It was juſtly eſteemed at the time to be the corner-ſtone of Papal power; and yet became the chief cauſe of its downfall. Celibacy precipitated the Romiſh clergy into adultery, fornication, cunning, diſſimulation, and every ſecret vice. Will men of ſuch manners be liſtened to, when they preach purity to their hearers? There was no medium, but either to reform their own manners, or to give every indulgence to the laity. But the ignorance and ſuperſtition of the latter, rendered the former ſecure in their own opinion. The reſtoration of learning broke the charm. Men beginning to think for themſelves, were provoked at the diſſolute lives of their paſtors, and raiſed a loud cry againſt them, not yet thinking of their doctrines. Reformers were burnt as heretics; and clergymen were held to be emiſſaries from Satan, to eſtabliſh his throne upon earth. Knox, that violent reformer, believed ſeriouſly, that Cardinal Beaton was a conjured enemy to Chriſt Jeſus. Providence brings good out of ill. Had not the clergy been diſſolute, poor Chriſtians might have laboured under ignorance and eccleſiaſtical thraldom to this hour. Our reformers, beginning with their paſtors, extended inſenſibly their hatred to the doctrines taught by their paſtors. Every article of faith was ſifted: the chaff was ſeparated from the corn; and a reformation was eſtabliſhed upon the ſcriptures, rejecting every innovation of the Romiſh church.

There is not mentioned in hiſtory a more impudent attack upon moral principles, than a privilege aſſumed by the Biſhop of Rome, to diſengage men from their oaths and promiſes: it is not a greater [258] ſtretch to diſengage them from every duty, whether of morality or of religion. The barons of Valentia, dreading a perſecution againſt the induſtrious Moors, their tenants, obtained the following clauſe to be in their king's coronation-oath: ‘"That he ſhould not expel the Moriſcos, nor force them to be baptized; that he ſhould never deſire to be relieved from the oath by a diſpenſation from the Pope, nor accept a diſpenſation if offered."’ The Emperor Charles V. took this oath ſolemnly in preſence of his nobles; and yet accepted a diſpenſation from the Pope, abſolving him from the oath, and from the guilt of perjury in breaking it. Auguſtus King of Poland, in the treaty of Altramſtadt, renounced the kingdom of Poland to his competitor Staniſlaus. The defeat of the King of Sweden at Poltowa, was an inviting opportunity to renew his pretenſions. A ſolemn treaty ſtood in his way; but the Pope removed that obſtacle, by annulling the treaty, and ſetting him at liberty. The Pope has been known even to beſtow that wonderful privilege upon others. Pope Paſcal II. having with a ſolemn oath renounced the right of inveſtitures, empowered the cardinals to declare his oath null. Biſhops alſo, imitating their ſuperior, have aſſumed the privilege of diſpenſing with moral duties. Inſtances are not rare, of curates being authorized by their biſhop to entertain concubines, paying for each a regular tax of a crown yearly. Nay, in ſome provincial ſynods, they are enjoined to keep concubines, in order to prevent ſcandal. Common proſtitutes, licenſed in the city of Leghorn, have a church peculiar to themſelves, and muſt not enter into any other. They follow their trade with the utmoſt freedom; except in paſſion-week, during which they muſt forbear ſinning, under pain of baniſhment.

[259] The power of beſtowing kingdoms, aſſumed by the biſhop of Rome, was an encroachment on the rules of juſtice, no leſs bold. Chriſtian princes, not many ages ago, eſteemed the Pope's gift to be their beſt title of property. In the year 1346, the Venetians requeſted the Pope's permiſſion to carry on commerce in Aſia, and to purchaſe there pepper and cinnamon. The Pope not only granted their requeſt, but pronounced anathemas upon any who ſhould dare to interfere in that commerce. Ferdinand and Iſabella of Spain, applied to Pope Alexander VI. to veſt in them the property of America, diſcovered under their auſpices by Columbus. The Pope having formerly made a grant to the kings of Portugal, of their diſcoveries in the Eaſt Indies, both grants were held ſacred; and it came to be ſtrenuouſly diſputed, under which of the grants the Molucca iſlands were comprehended. Both grants proceed upon a narrative, of the power beſtowed by Almighty God on the Pope as ſucceſſor to St Peter and vicar of Chriſt. To imagine, that the Almighty would beſtow ſuch powers on the Biſhop of Rome, or on any human being, ſhews groſs ignorance of the common rights of mankind, and of the government of Providence.

The groſſeſt of all deviations, not only from ſound morality but from pure religion, and the moſt extenſive in its baneful effects, is a doctrine embraced by eſtabliſhed churches, not many excepted, That becauſe heretics are odious in the ſight of God, it is the duty of the orthodox to extirpate them root and branch. Obſerve the conſequence: people who differ from the eſtabliſhed church, are held to be obſtinate ſinners, deſerving puniſhment here as well as hereafter. The religion of every country is changeable; and the religion at preſent dominant may ſoon be [260] under depreſſion; which of courſe ſubjects all mankind to the rigour of perſecution. An invention more effectual for extirpating the human race, is not within the reach of human powers: the horror of human ſacrifices is as nothing in compariſon.

The old Romans, far from having any notion of perſecution, adopted the gods of every nation they conquered. A learned writera obſerves, that as the number of their gods increaſed with their conqueſts, it is poſſible that they might have worſhipped all the gods in the world. Their belief in tutelar deities produced that effect. Titus Livius mentions a ſect of Bacchanals that ſpread through Italy. They performed their ceremonies during night, men and women mixing in the dark after intemperate eating and drinking. Never did wicked wretches deſerve more exemplary puniſhment; yet liſten to the following decree of the Roman ſenate, breathing the true ſpirit of toleration. ‘"Ne qua Bacchanalia Romae, neve in Italia eſſent. Si quis tale ſacrum, ſolenne, et neceſſarium duceret, nec ſine religione et piaculo ſe id omittere poſſe; apud praetorem urbanum profiteretur; praetor ſenatum conſuleret. Si ei permiſſum eſſet, quum in ſenatu centum non minus eſſent; ita id ſacrum faceret, dum ne plus quinque ſacrificio intereſſent; neu qua pecunia communis, neu quis magiſter ſacrorum, aut ſacerdos eſſet*."’ The Jews however were prone to [261] perſecution; for though they conſidered the Supreme Being as their tutelar deity, yet the malignity of their nature prevailed to make them hold in abhorrence the worſhip of every other god. Even among themſelves, they were abundantly diſpoſed to war; and nothing kept within bounds the Phariſees, the Sadduces, and the Eſſenes, their three ſects, but terror of the Roman power. The Chriſtian religion implies toleration in its very nature and principles; but being corrupted by ignorance, intereſt, and ſuperſtition, it became prone to perſecution, above all others. Chriſtian ſects were enflamed againſt each other to a degree of brutality; the moſt oppoſite to peace and brotherly love, inculcated in the goſpel. It was propagated by the orthodox, that Arius expired in a common jakes, and that his entrails burſt out. The ſame is related of Huneric King of the Vandals, a zealous Arian; with the following addition, that being poſſeſſed with the devil, whom he had glutted with the blood of many martyrs, he tore his fleſh off with his teeth, and ended his wretched life in the moſt excruciating, though juſtly deſerved, torments. The falſehoods every where ſpread during the fourteenth century againſt the Jews, ſuch as their poiſoning the public fountains, killing Chriſtian [262] infants, and drinking their blood, with many other falſehoods of the ſame ſtamp, were invented and greedily ſwallowed through the influence of religious hatred. The greater part of perſecutions have been occaſioned in the ſame manner; for men are not ſo deſperately wicked, as to approve of perſecution, unleſs when blinded by intemperate zeal. The ſame religious hatred produced the aſſaſſination of the Duke of Guiſe, and of two Henrys, Kings of France; produced the gun-powder plot; and produced the moſt horrid deed that ever was perpetrated among men, the maſſacre of St. Bartholomew*.

No falſe principle in religion has ſhed more innocent, or rather virtuous blood, than that of perſecuting heretics; i. e. thoſe who differ in any article from the religion eſtabliſhed by law. The doctrine of burning heretics, is in effect the profeſſing to burn men highly virtuous; for they muſt be ſo in an eminent degree, who ſubmit to be burnt alive, rather than be guilty even of diſſimulation. The Mahometan practice of converting people by the ſword, if not more rational, is at leaſt more manly. Louis IX. of France, one of its beſt princes, would have been a greater bleſſing to his people, had he been leſs [263] pious: he had an implacable averſion to heretics, againſt whom he thought it more proper to employ racks and gibbets, than argument and perſuaſion. Torquemada, that infernal inquiſitor of Spain, brought into the inquiſition, in the ſpace of fourteen years, no fewer than 80,000 perſons; of whom 6000 were condemned to the flames, and burnt alive with the greateſt pomp and exultation. Of that vaſt number, there was perhaps not a ſingle perſon, who was not more pure in religion, as well as in morals, than their outrageous perſecutor. Hunter a young man about nineteen years of age, was one of the unhappy victims to the zeal of Queen Mary of England for Popery. Having been inadvertently betrayed by a prieſt to deny tranſubſtantiation, he abſconded, to keep out of harm's way. Bonner, that arch-hangman of Popery, threatened ruin to the father, if he did not deliver up the young man. Hunter, hearing of his father's danger, made his appearance; and was burnt alive, inſtead of being rewarded for his filial piety. A woman of Guernſey was brought to the ſtake, without regard to her big belly; which burſting by the torture, ſhe was delivered in the midſt of the flames. One of the guards ſnatched the infant from the fire: but the magiſtrate who attended the execution, ordered it to be thrown back; being reſolved, he ſaid, that nothing ſhould ſurvive which ſprung from a parent ſo obſtinately heretical. Father Paul (Council of Trent, book 5.) computes, that in the Netherlands alone, from the time that the edict of Charles V. was promulgated againſt the reformers, fifty thouſand perſons were hanged, beheaded, buried alive, or burnt, on account of religion. Some Faquirs, crazed with opium and fanaticiſm, have been known with poiſoned daggers to fall upon [264] uncircumciſed Europeans, and to put every one to death whom they could maſter. In the laſt century, a Faquir at Surate murdered, within the ſpace of a minute, ſeventeen Dutch ſailors with ſeventeen ſtabs of a dagger. We think with horror of human ſacrifices among the ancient Pagans; and yet we behold them every day among Chriſtians, rendered ſtill more horrid by the moſt atrocious torments that religious hatred can deviſe.

The great motive to ſuch cruelties, is the ſuperſtitious and abſurd notion, that heretics are God's enemies; which makes it thought an acceptable ſervice to God, not only to perſecute them by fire and ſword in this world, but to deliver them over to Satan in the world to come. Another circumſtance enflames religious hatred; which is, that neighbours are either intimate friends or bitter enemies. This holds with a ſlight variation in ſects of the ſame religion: however minute their differences be, they cannot be intimate friends; and therefore are bitter enemies: the nearer they approach to uniſon, if not entirely concordant, the greater in proportion is their mutual natred. Such hatred, ſubduing the meek ſpirit of Chriſtianity, is an additional cauſe for perſecution. Blind zeal for what is believed to be the only true religion, never diſcovers error nor innocence in thoſe who differ, but perverſeneſs and criminal obſtinacy. Two religions totally different, like two countries in oppoſite parts of the globe, produce no mutual enmity. At the ſiege of Conſtantinople by the Turks, ann. 1453, the Emperor, in order to procure aſſiſtance from the princes of the Latin church, ordered maſs to be celebrated in one of his churches according to the form uſed in Rome. The people with great indignation proteſted, [265] that they would rather ſee the Turks in their churches, than the hat of a cardinal.

The hiſtory of the Waldenſes, tho' well known, cannot be too often repeated. In the twelfth century, a merchant of Lyons, named Peter Valdo, diſſatisfied with the pomp and ceremonies of the Romiſh church, ill ſuited, in his opinion, to the humility of a Chriſtian, retired to a deſert in the high country of Provence, with ſeveral poor people his diſciples. There he became their ſpiritual guide, inſtructing them in certain doctrines, the ſame that were afterward adopted by the Proteſtants. Their inceſſant labour ſubdued the barren ſoil, and prepared it for grain as well as for paſture. The rent which in time they were enabled to pay for land that afforded none originally, endeared them to their landlords. In 250 years, they multiplied to the number of 18,000, occupying thirty villages, beſide hamlets, the work of their own hands. Prieſts they had none, nor any diſputes about religion: neither had they occaſion for a court of juſtice, as brotherly love did not ſuffer them to go to law: they worſhipped God in their own plain way, and their innocence was ſecured by inceſſant labour. They had long enjoyed the ſweets of peace and mutual affection, when the reformers of Germany and Geneva ſent miniſters among them; which unhappily laid them open to religious hatred, the moſt unrelenting of all furies. In the year 1540, the parliament of Provence condemned nineteen of them to be burnt for hereſy, their trees to be rooted up, and their houſes to be razed to the ground. The Waldenſes, terrified at this ſentence, applied in a body to Cardinal Sadolet, biſhop of Carpentras; who received them kindly, and obtained from Francis I. of France, a pardon for the perſons under ſentence of death, on condition of abjuring [266] hereſy. The matter lay over five years; when the parliament, irritated at them for perſevering in their tenets, prevailed on the King to withdraw his pardon. The ſentence was executed with great rigour; and the parliament, laying hold of that opportunity, broke through every reſtraint of law, and commenced a violent perſecution againſt the whole nation. The ſoldiers began with maſſacring old men, women, and children, all having fled who were able to fly; and proceeded to burn their houſes, barns, and corn. There remained in the town of Cabriere ſixty men and thirty women; who having ſurrendered upon promiſe of life, were butchered each of them without mercy. Some women who had taken refuge in a church, were dragged out, and burnt alive. Twenty-two villages were reduced to aſhes; and that populous and flouriſhing diſtrict, became once more a deſert.

To conceive this horrid ſcene in all its deformity, the people perſecuted ought to be compared with the clergy their perſecutors; for the civil magiſtrate was the hand only that executed their vengeance: on the one ſide, an induſtrious people, pure in their morals, and no leſs pure in their religion: on the other, proud pampered prieſts, abandoned without ſhame to every wickedneſs, impure in their morals, and ſtill more impure in their religion—the world never furniſhed ſuch another contraſt. Had the ſcene been reverſed, to make theſe wretches ſuffer perſecution from the Waldenſes—but that people were too upright and too religious for being perſecutors. The manners of the Chriſtian clergy in general, before the Reformation, enlivens the contraſt. The doctrine promulgated during the dark times of Chriſtianity, That God is a mercenary being; and that every perſon, however wicked, may obtain [267] pardon of his ſins by money, made riches flow into the hands of eccleſiaſtics in a plentiful ſtream. And riches had the ſame effect upon the Chriſtian clergy that they have upon all men, which is, to produce pride, ſenſuality, and profligacy: theſe again produced diſſipation of money, which prompted avarice, and every invention for recruiting exhauſted treaſures*. Even as early as the eighth century, the Chriſtian clergy, tempted by opulence, abandoned themſelves to pleaſure, without moderation; and far exceeded the laity in luxury, gluttony, and luſt. When ſuch were the paſtors, what muſt have been the flock! Rejoice, O Scotland, over the poverty and temperance of thy paſtors. During that period, the clergy could read, and, like parrots, they could mumble prayers in Latin: in every other reſpect, they rivalled the laity in ignorance. They were indeed more cunning than the laity; and underſtood their intereſt better, if to covet riches at the expence of probity, deſerve that name. Three articles were eſtabliſhed that made religion an eaſy ſervice. Firſt, That faith is the eſſence of religion, without regard to good works; and hence the neceſſity of being ſtrictly orthodox, which the church only could determine. Second, Religious worſhip was reduced to a number of external ceremonies and forms, which, being declared ſufficient for ſalvation, abſolved Chriſtians from every moral duty. [268] Remark, that a prieſt is always the chief perſon in ceremonial worſhip. The third article, That God is a mercenary being, is mentioned above, with its neceſſary conſequences. Theſe articles brought about a total neglect, both in clergy and laity, not only of morality, but of every eſſential religious duty. In fine, there never was a religion that deviated more from juſt principles, than that profeſſed by Chriſtians during the dark ages. Perſecution reached none but the ſincerely pious and virtuous. What a glorious tolerating ſentiment doth Arnobiusa throw out, and what profuſion of blood would have been prevented, had it been adopted by all Chriſtians! ‘"Da veniam, Rex ſumme, tuos perſequentibus famulos: et quod tuae benignitatis eſt proprium, fugientibus ignoſce tui nominis et religionis cultum. Non eſt mirum, ſi ignoraris: majoris eſt admirationis, ſi ſciaris*."’ The following parable againſt perſecution was communicated to me by Dr. Franklin of Philadelphia, a man who makes a great figure in the learned world: and who would make a ſtill greater figure for benevolence and candour, were virtue in this declining age as much regarded as knowledge. ‘"And it came to paſs after theſe things, that Abraham ſat in the door of his tent, about the going down of the ſun. And behold a man bent with age, coming from the way of the wilderneſs [269] leaning on a ſtaff. And Abraham aroſe, and met him, and ſaid unto him, Turn in, I pray thee, and waſh thy feet, and tarry all night; and thou ſhalt ariſe early in the morning, and go on thy way. And the man ſaid, Nay; for I will abide under this tree. But Abraham preſſed him greatly: ſo he turned, and they went into the tent: and Abraham baked unleavened bread, and they did eat. And when Abraham ſaw that the man bleſſed not God, he ſaid unto him, Wherefore doſt thou not worſhip the moſt high God, creator of heaven and earth? And the man anſwered and ſaid, I do not worſhip thy God, neither do I call upon his name; for I have made to myſelf a God, which abideth always in mine houſe, and provideth me with all things. And Abraham's zeal was kindled againſt the man, and he aroſe, and fell upon him, and drove him forth with blows into the wilderneſs. And God called unto Abraham, ſaying, Abraham, where is the ſtranger? And Abraham anſwered and ſaid, Lord, he would not worſhip thee, neither would he call upon thy name; therefore have I driven him out from before my face into the wilderneſs. And God ſaid, Have I borne with him theſe hundred ninety and eight years, and nouriſhed him, and clothed him, notwithſtanding his rebellion againſt me; and couldſt not thou, who art thyſelf a ſinner, bear with him one night?"’ The hiſtorical ſtyle of the Old Teſtament is here finely imitated; and the moral muſt ſtrike every one who is not ſunk in ſtupidity and ſuperſtition. Were it really a chapter of Geneſis, one is apt to think, that perſecution could never have ſhown a bare face among Jews or Chriſtians. But alas! that is a vain thought. Such a paſſage in the Old [270] Teſtament, would avail as little againſt the rancorous paſſions of men, as the following paſſages in the New Teſtament, tho' perſecution cannot be condemned in terms more explicit. ‘"Him that is weak in the faith, receive you, but not to doubtful diſputations. For one believeth that he may eat all things: another, who is weak, eateth herbs. Let not him that eateth, deſpiſe him that eateth not; and let not him which eateth not, judge him that eateth. Who art thou that judgeſt another man's ſervant? to his own maſter he ſtandeth or falleth. One man eſteemeth one day above another: another eſteemeth every day alike. Let every man be fully perſuaded in his own mind. But why doſt thou judge thy brother? or why doſt thou ſet at nought thy brother? for we ſhall all ſtand before the judgment-ſeat of Chriſt, every one to give an account of himſelf to God. I know, that there is nothing unclean of itſelf: but to him that eſteemeth any thing unclean, to him it is unclean. The kingdom of God is not meat and drink, but righteouſneſs, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghoſt. Let us therefore follow after the things which make for peace, and things wherewith one may edify anothera."’ Our Saviour himſelf declared againſt perſecution in the moſt expreſs terms. The Jews and Samaritans were of the ſame religion; but ſome trivial differences in the ceremonial part of worſhip, rendered them odious to each other. Our Saviour being refuſed lodging in a village of Samaria, becauſe he was travelling to Jeruſalem, his diſciples James and John ſaid, ‘"Lord, wilt thou that [271] we command fire to come down from heaven, and conſume them, even as Elias did?"’ But he rebuked them, and ſaid, ‘"The Son of man is not come to deſtroy means lives, but to ſave themb."’

It gives me real concern, that even the hot fire of perſecution, did not altogether purify our Reformed clergy from that ſatanical ſpirit. No ſooner were the Diſſenters ſettled in New England, where they fled to avoid perſecution, than they ſet on foot a perſecution againſt the Quakers, no leſs furious than what they themſelves had ſuffered at home. Nor did the Reformed clergy in Scotland loſe ſight of that magiſterial authority, which had been aſſumed by their predeceſſors of the Romiſh church, on the ridiculous pretext, of being ambaſſadors to men from Jeſus Chriſt. Upon a repreſentation, ann. 1646, from the commiſſion of the kirk of Scotland, James Bell and Colin Campbell, bailies of Glaſgow, were committed to priſon by the parliament, merely for having ſaid, that kirk-men meddled too much in civil matters. Could a deſpotic prince have exerted a more arbitrary act? but the church was all-powerful in thoſe days*.

[272] I would do juſtice to every church, not excepting that of Rome; and it is doing that church no more but juſtice to acknowledge, that the ſpirit of perſecution was not more eminent in it, than zeal for making converts. The former is retiring out of the world; and I wiſh it moſt profound reſt, never again to revive. People begin to be aſhamed of it, as of a garment long out of faſhion. Let the other continue for amuſement: it is innocent; and if it do no good, it is not productive of ſo much harm.

The deſire of making converts proceeds from two different cauſes. In ſuperſtitious zealots, it proceeds from an opinion, that all who differ from them are in the road to damnation: for which reaſon, there is a rage of making converts among Roman Catholics; who, without ceremony, deliver over to the flames of hell, every perſon who is not of their communion The other cauſe is more natural: every man thinks himſelf in the right, eſpecially in matters of conſequence; and for that reaſon, he is happy to find others of his opiniona. With reſpect to the firſt cauſe, I beg attention to the following conſiderations; not with any hope of converting zealots, but to prevent, if poſſible, others from becoming ſuch. In none of the works of God is variety more happily blended with uniformity, than in the formation of man. Uniformity prevails in the human face with reſpect to eyes, noſe, mouth, and other capital parts: variety prevails in the expreſſions of theſe parts, ſerving to diſtinguiſh one perſon from another, without hazard of error. In like manner, the minds of men are uniform with reſpect to their paſſions and principles; but the various [273] tones and expreſſions of theſe, form different characters without end. A face deſtitute of a noſe or of a mouth, is monſtrous: a mind deſtitute of the moral ſenſe, or of a ſenſe of religion, is no leſs ſo. But variety of expreſſion in different faces, is agreeable: becauſe we reliſh variety; and a ſimilar variety in the expreſſions or tones of paſſion, ought to be equally agreeable. Endleſs differences in temper, in taſte, and in mental faculties, that of reaſon in particular, produce neceſſarily variety in ſentiment and in opinion. Can God be diſpleaſed with ſuch variety, when it is his own work? He requires no uniformity except with reſpect to an upright mind and clear conſcience, which are indiſpenſable. Here at the ſame time is diſcovered an illuſtrious final cauſe. Different countenances in the human race, not only diſtinguiſh one perſon from another, but promote ſociety, by aiding us to chuſe a friend, an aſſociate, a partner for life. Differences in opinion and ſentiment, have ſtill more beneficial effects: they rouſe the attention, give exerciſe to the underſtanding, and ſharpen the reaſoning faculty. With reſpect to religion in particular, perfect uniformity, which furniſheth no ſubject for thinking nor for reaſoning, would produce languor in divine worſhip, and make us ſink into cold indifference. How frantic then is the rage of making proſelytes? Let every man enjoy his native liberty, of thinking as well as of acting; free to act as he pleaſes, provided he obey the rules of morality; equally free to think as he pleaſes, provided he obey the great God as his maker and maſter, and acknowledge the neceſſary connection of religion with morality. Strict uniformity in other matters, may be compared to a ſpring-day, calm and ſerene; neither ſo hot as to make us drop a garment, [274] nor ſo cold as to require an addition; no wind to ruffle, nor rain to make ſhelter neceſſary. We enjoy the ſweet ſcene for a moment: we walk, we ſit, we muſe;—but ſoon fall aſleep. Agitation is the element of man, and the life of ſociety. Let us not attempt to correct the works of God: the attempt will betray us into abſurd errors. This doctrine cannot be better illuſtrated than by a converſation, reported by the Jeſuit Tachard, between the king of Siam, and a French ambaſſador, who, in his maſter's name, urged that king to embrace the Chriſtian religion. ‘"I am ſurpriſed,"’ ſaid his Majeſty of Siam, ‘"that the King of France, my good friend, ſhould intereſt himſelf ſo warmly in what concerns God only. He hath given to his creatures different minds and different inclinations, which naturally lead them two differ in opinion. We admire variety in the material world: why not equally admire it in matters of religion? Have we not then reaſon to believe, that God takes pleaſure in all the different forms of worſhip? Had it been the intention of God to produce uniformity in religion, he would have formed all men with the ſame mind."’ Bernier introduces ſome Gentiles of Hindoſtan defending their religion much in the ſame manner: ‘"That they did not pretend their law to be univerſal; that they did not hold ours to be falſe, as, for aught they knew, it might be a good law for us; and that God probably made many roads to heaven."’

With reſpect to the other cauſe above mentioned, viz. the deſire of putting people in the right road. To reaſon others into our religious principles, is natural; but it is not always prudent. I wiſh my neighbour to be of my opinion, becauſe I think my opinion right: but is there no [275] danger of undermining his religious principles, without eſtabliſhing better in their ſtead? Ought I not to reſtrain my deſire of making converts, when the attempt may poſſibly reduce them to abandon religion altogether, as a matter of utter uncertainty? If a man of clear underſtanding has by ſome unhappy means been led into error, that man may be ſet right by fair reaſoning: but beware of endeavouring to convert people of low parts, who are indebted for their creed to parents, to education, or to example: it is ſafer to let them reſt as they are.

At any rate, let us never attempt to gain proſelytes by rewards nor by terror: what other effect can ſuch motives produce, but diſſimulation and lying, parents of every ſecret crime? The Empreſs of Ruſſia uſes a method for converting her Pagan ſubjects of Kamſkatka, no leſs agreeable than effectual; which is, to exempt from taxes for ten years, ſuch of them as profeſs the Chriſtian religion. This practice may be political; but it tends not to advance religion, and is deſtructive of morality. Terror, on the other hand, may be equally effectual, but is not altogether ſo agreeable. The people of Rum, one of the Hebrides, were Papiſts till the beginning of the preſent century, when in one day they were all proſelyted to the Proteſtant faith. Maclean of Coll, their chieftain, went to the iſland with a Proteſtant miniſter, and ordered all the inhabitants to appear on Sunday at public worſhip. They came, but refuſed to hear a Proteſtant miniſter. The chieftain reaſoned with them: but finding that his reaſonings made no impreſſion, he laid hold of the moſt forward; and having made a deep impreſſion on him with his cane, puſhed him into the church. The reſt followed like meek lambs; and from that day have continued [276] firm Proteſtants. The Proteſtantiſm of Rum is ſtyled by their Popiſh neighbours, the faith of the yellow ſtick.

To apply rewards, terror, or any other means, for making proſelytes, except fair reaſoning, appears to me a ſtrange perverſion. Can God be pleaſed with ſuch means, or can any rational man juſtify them? What then ſhould move any one to put them in practice? I ſhould be utterly at a loſs to anſwer the queſtion, but for a fact mentioned more than once above, that the rude and illiterate, judge by ſight only, and not by reflection, which makes them lay weight on the external viſible act, without thinking of intention, becauſe it is not viſible. In truth, the bulk of mankind reſt upon the external profeſſion of religion: they never dip into the heart, nor conſider how that ſtands affected. What elſe is it but the external act merely, that moves the Romiſh miſſionaries to baptize the infants of ſavages even at the moment of expiring? which they proſecute with much pious ardour. Their zeal merits applauſe, but by no means their judgment. Can any rational perſon ſeriouſly believe, that the dipping a ſavage or an infant in water, will make either of them a Chriſtian, or that the want of this ceremony will precipitate them into hell? The Lithuanians, before their converſion to Chriſtianity worſhipped ſerpents, every family entertaining one as a houſehold god. Sigiſmundus, in his commentaries of Muſcovy, reports the following incident. A converted Chriſtian having perſuaded a neighbour to follow his example, and in token of his converſion to kill his ſerpent, was ſurpriſed at his next viſit, to find his convert in the deepeſt melancholy, bitterly lamenting that he had murdered his god, and that the moſt dreadful calamities would befal him. Was this [277] perſon a Chriſtian more than nominally? At the end of the laſt century when Kempfer was in Japan, there remained but about fifty Japan Chriſtians, who were locked up in priſon for life. Theſe poor people knew no more of the Chriſtian religion, but the names only of our Saviour and of the Virgin Mary; and yet ſo zealous Chriſtians were they, as rather to die miſerably in jail, than to renounce the name of Chriſt, and be ſet at liberty.

I cannot with ſatisfaction conclude this ſketch, without congratulating my preſent countrymen of Britain, upon their knowledge of the intimate connection that true religion has with morality. May the importance of that connection, always at heart, excite us to govern every action of our lives by the united principles of morality and religion:—what a happy people would we be!

Appendix A APPENDIX.
Sketches concerning SCOTLAND.

[278]

Appendix A.1 SKETCH I.
SCOTCH ENTAILS conſidered in Moral and Political views.

MAN is by nature a hoarding animal; and to ſecure to men what they acquire by honeſt induſtry, the ſenſe of property is made a branch of human naturea. During the infancy of nations, when artificial wants are unknown, the hoarding appetite makes no figure. The uſe of money produced a great change in the human heart. Money having at command the goods of fortune, introduced inequality of rank, luxury, and artificial wants without end. No bounds are ſet to hoarding, where an appetite for artificial wants is indulged: love of money becomes [279] the ruling paſſion: it is coveted by many in order to be hoarded; and means are abſurdly converted into an end.

The ſenſe of property, weak among ſavages, ripens gradually till it arrives at maturity in poliſhed nations. In every ſtage of the progreſs, ſome new power is added to property; and now for centuries, men have enjoyed every power over their own goods, that a rational mind can deſirea: they have the free diſpoſal during life; and even after death by naming an heir. Theſe powers are ſufficient for accompliſhing every rational purpoſe: they are ſufficient for commerce, and they are ſufficient for benevolence. But the artificial wants of men are boundleſs: not content with the full enjoyment of their property during life, nor with the proſpect of its being enjoyed by a favourite heir, they are anxiouſly bent to preſerve it to themſelves for ever. A man who has amaſſed a great eſtate in land, is miſerable at the proſpect of being obliged to quit his hold: to ſooth his diſeaſed fancy, he makes a deed ſecuring it for ever to certain heirs; who muſt without end bear his name, and preſerve his eſtate entire. Death, it is true, muſt at laſt ſeparate him from his idol: it is ſome conſolation, however, that his will governs and gives law to every ſubſequent proprietor. How repugnant to the frail ſtate of man, are ſuch ſwollen conceptions! Upon theſe however are founded entails, which have prevailed in many parts of the world, and unhappily at this day infeſt Scotland. Did entails produce no other harm but the gratification of a diſtempered appetite for property, they might be endured, though far [280] from deſerving approbation: but, like other tranſgreſſions of nature and reaſon, they are productive of much miſchief, not only to commerce, but to the very heirs for whoſe benefit it is pretended that they are made.

Conſidering that the law of nature has beſtowed on man, every power of property that is neceſſary either for commerce or for benevolence, how blind was it in the Engliſh legiſlature to add a moſt irrational power, that of making an entail! But men will always be mending; and when a law-giver ventures to tamper with the laws of nature, he hazards much miſchief. We have a pregnant inſtance above, of an attempt to mend the laws of God, in many abſurd regulations for the poor; and that the law authoriſing entails, is another inſtance of the ſame kind, will be evident from what follows.

The miſchievous effects of Engliſh entails were ſoon diſcovered: they occaſioned ſuch injuſtice and oppreſſion, that even the judges ventured to relieve the nations from them, by an artificial form, termed, fine and recovery. And yet, though no moderate man would deſire more power over his eſtate than he has by common law, the legiſlature of Scotland enabled every land-proprietor to fetter his eſtate for ever; to tyrannize over his heirs; and to reduce their property to a ſhadow, by prohibiting alienation; and by prohibiting the contracting debt, were it even to redeem the proprietor from death or ſlavery. Thus many a man, fonder of his eſtate than of his wife and children, grudges the uſe of it to his natural heirs, reducing them to the ſtate of mere life-renters. Behold the conſequences. A number of noblemen and gentlemen among us, lie in wait for every parcel of land that comes to market. Intent upon aggrandizing their family, [281] or rather their eſtate, which is the favourite object, they ſecure every purchaſe by an entail; and the ſame courſe will be followed, till no land be left to be purchaſed. Thus every entailed eſtate in Scotland becomes in effect a mortmain, admitting additions without end, but abſolutely barring any alienation; and if the legiſlature interpoſe not, the period is not diſtant, when all the land in Scotland will be locked up by entails, and withdrawn from commerce.

The purpoſe of the preſent eſſay, is to ſet before our legiſlature, coolly and impartially, the deſtructive effects of a Scotch entail. I am not ſo ſanguine as to hope, that men, who convert means into an end, and avariciouſly covet land for its own ſake, will be prevailed upon to regard, either the intereſt of their country or of their poſterity: but I would gladly hope, that the legiſlature may be rouſed to give attention to a national object of no ſlight importance.

I begin with effects of a private or domeſtic nature. To the poſſeſſor, an entail is a conſtant ſource of diſcontent, by ſubverting that liberty and independence, which all men covet, with reſpect to their goods as well as their perſons. What can be more vexatious to a proprietor of a great land-eſtate, than to be barred from the moſt laudable acts, ſuitable proviſions for example to a wife or children? not to mentiom numberleſs acts of benevolence, that endear individuals to each other, and make ſociety comfortable. Were he ever ſo induſtrious, his fields muſt lie waſte; for what man will lay out his own money upon an eſtate that is not his own? A great proportion of the land in Scotland is in ſuch a ſtate, that by laying out a thouſand pounds or ſo, an intelligent proprietor may add a hundred pounds yearly to his rent-roll. But an entail effectually [282] bars that improvement: it affords the proprietor no credit; and ſuppoſing him to have the command of money independent of the eſtate, he will be ill-fated if he have not means to employ it more profitably for his own intereſt. An entail, at the ſame time, is no better than a trap for an improvident poſſeſſor: to avoid altogether the contracting debt, is impracticable; and if a young man be guided more by pleaſure than by prudence, which commonly is the caſe of young men; a vigilant and rapacious ſubſtitute, taking advantage of a forfeiting clauſe, turns him out of poſſeſſion, and delivers him over to want and miſery.

But an entail is productive of conſequences ſtill more diſmal, even with reſpect to heirs. A young man upon whom the family eſtate is entailed, without any power reſerved to the father, is not commonly obſequious to advice, nor patiently ſubmiſſive to the fatigues of education: he abandons himſelf to pleaſure, and indulges his paſſions without control. In one word, there is no ſituation more ſubverſive of morals, than that of a young man, bred up from infancy in the certainty of inheriting an opulent fortune.

The condition of the other children, daughters eſpecially, is commonly deplorable. The proprietor of a large entailed eſtate, leaves at his death children who have acquired a taſte for ſumptuous living. The ſons drop off one by one, and a number of daughters remain, with a ſcanty proviſion, or perhaps with none at all. A collateral male heir ſucceeds, who after a painful ſearch is diſcovered in ſome remote corner, qualified to procure bread by the ſpade or the plough, but entirely unqualified for behaving as maſter of an opulent fortune. By ſuch a metamorphoſis, [283] the poor man makes a ludicrous figure; while the daughters, reduced to indigence, are in a ſituation much more lamentable than are the brats of beggars.

Our entails produce another domeſtic evil, for which no proper remedy is provided. The ſums permitted in moſt entails to younger children, however adequate when the entail is made, become in time too ſcanty, by a fall in the value of money, and by increaſe of luxury; which is peculiarly hard upon daughters of great families: the proviſions deſtined for them will not afford them bread; and they cannot hope to be ſuitably matched, without a decent fortune. If we adhere to entails, nunneries ought to be provided.

But the domeſtic evils of an entail make no figure compared with thoſe that reſpect the public. Theſe in their full extent would fill a volume: they are well known; and it may be ſufficient to keep them in view by ſome general hints.

As obſerved above, few tenants in tail can command money for improvements, however profitable. Such diſcouragement to agriculture, hurtful to proprietors of entailed eſtates, is ſtill more ſo to the public. It is now an eſtabliſhed maxim, That a ſtate is powerful in proportion to the product of its land: a nation that feeds its neighbours, can ſtarve them. The quantity of land that is locked up in Scotland by entails, has damped the growing ſpirit of agriculture. There is not produced ſufficiency of corn at home for our own conſumption: and our condition will become worſe and worſe by new entails, till agriculture and induſtry be annihilated. Were the great entailed eſtates in Scotland, ſplit into ſmall properties of fifty or a hundred pounds yearly [284] rent, we ſhould ſoon be enabled, not only to ſupply our own markets, but to ſpare for our neighbours.

In the next place, our entails are no leſs ſubverſive of commerce than of agriculture. There are numberleſs land-eſtates in Scotland of one, two, or three hundred pounds yearly rent. Such an eſtate cannot afford bare neceſſaries to the proprietor, if he pretend to live like a gentleman. But he has an excellent reſource: let him apply to any branch of trade, his eſtate will afford him credit for what money he wants. The profit he makes, pays the intereſt of the money borrowed, with a ſurplus; and this ſurplus, added to the rent of his eſtate, enables him to live comfortably. A number of land-proprietors in ſuch circumſtances, would advance commerce to a great height. But alas! there are not many who have that reſource: ſuch is the itch in Scoland for entailing, as even to deſcend lower than one hundred pounds yearly. Can one behold with patience, the countenance that is given to ſelfiſh wrong-headed people, acting in direct oppoſition to the proſperity of their country? Commerce is no leſs hurt in another reſpect: when our land is withdrawn from commerce by entails, every proſperous trader will deſert a country where he can find no land to purchaſe; for to raiſe a family by acquiring an eſtate in land, is the ultimate aim of every merchant, and of every man who accumulates money.

Thirdly, An entail is a bitter enemy to population. Population is generally proportioned to the number of land-proprietors. A very ſmall portion of land, managed with ſkill and induſtry, affords bread to a numerous family; and the great aim of the frugal proprietor, is to provide [285] a fund for educating his children, and for eſtabliſhing them in buſineſs. A numerous iſſue, at the ſame time, is commonly the lot of the temperate and frugal; becauſe they are ſtrangers to luxury and voluptuouſneſs, which enervate the body, and dry up the ſources of procreation. This is no chimera or fond imagination: traverſe Europe; compare great capitals with diſtant provinces; and it will be found to hold univerſally, that children abound much more among the induſtrious poor, than among the luxurious rich. But if diviſion of land into ſmall properties, tend to population; depopulation muſt be the neceſſary conſequence of an entail, the avowed intent of which is to unite many ſmall properties in one great eſtate; and conſequently, to reduce land-proprietors to a ſmall number.

Let us, in the fourth place, take under conſideration, the children of land-holders with reſpect to education and induſtry; for unleſs men be uſefully employed, population is of no real advantage to a ſtate. In that reſpect, great and ſmall eſtates admit no compariſon. Children of great families, accuſtomed to affluence and luxury, are too proud for buſineſs; and were they even willing, are incapable to drudge at a laborious employment. At the ſame time, as the father's hands are tied up by his entail from affording them means to ſubſiſt as perſons of rank, they become a burden on the family, and on the ſtate, and can do no ſervice to either, but by dying. Yet there are men ſo blind, or ſo callous, as to be fond of entails. Let us try whether a more pleaſing ſcene will have any effect upon them. Children of ſmall land-holders, are from infancy educated in a frugal manner; and they muſt be induſtrious, as they depend on induſtry [286] for bread. Among that claſs of men, education has its moſt powerful influence; and upon that claſs a nation chiefly relies, for its ſkilful artiſts and manufacturers, for its lawyers, phyſicians, divines, and even for its generals and ſtateſmen.

And this leads to conſider, in the fifth place, the influence that great and ſmall eſtates have on manners. Gentlemen of a moderate fortune, connected with their ſuperiors and inferiors, improve ſociety, by ſpreading kindly affection through the whole members of the ſtate. In ſuch only reſides the genuine ſpirit of liberty, abhorrence equally of ſervility to ſuperiors and of tyranny to inferiors. The nature of the Britiſh government, creates a mutual dependence of the great and ſmall on each other. The great have favours to beſtow: the ſmall have many more, by their privilege of electing parliament-men; which obliges men of high rank to affect popularity, if they have none at heart. This connection produces good manners at leaſt between different ranks, and perhaps ſome degree of cordiality. Accumulation of land into great eſtates, produces oppoſite manners: when all the land in Scotland is ſwallowed up by a number of grandees, and few gentlemen of the middle rank are left; even the appearance of popularity will vaniſh, leaving pride and inſolence on the one hand, and abject ſervility on the other. In a word, the diſtribution of land into many ſhares, accords charmingly with the free ſpirit of the Britiſh conſtitution; but nothing is more repugnant to that ſpirit, than overgrown eſtates in land.

In the ſixth place, Arts and ſciences can never flouriſh in a country, where all the land is engroſſed by a few men. Science will never be cultivated by the diſpirited tenant, who can ſcarce [287] procure bread; and ſtill leſs, if poſſible, by the inſolent landlord, who is too ſelf-ſufficient for inſtruction. There will be no encouragement for arts: great and opulent proprietors, foſtering ambitious views, will cling to the ſeat of government, which is far removed from Scotland; and if vanity make them ſometimes diſplay their grandeur at their country-ſeats, they will be too delicate for any articles of luxury but what are foreign. The arts and ſciences being thus baniſhed, Scotland will be deſerted by every man of ſpirit who can find bread elſewhere.

In the ſeventh place, Such overgrown eſtates will produce an irregular and dangerous influence with reſpect to the Houſe of Commons. The parliament-boroughs will be ſubdued by weight of money; and with reſpect to county-elections, it is a chance if there be left in a county as many land-holders capable to elect, and to be elected, as even to afford a choice. In ſuch circumſtances, will our conſtitution be in no danger, from the ambitious views of men elevated above others by their vaſt poſſeſſions? Is it unlikely, that ſuch men, taking advantage of public diſcord, will become an united body of ambitious oppreſſors, overawing their ſovereign as well as their fellow-ſubjects? Such was the miſerable condition of Britain, while the ſeudal oligarchy ſubſiſted: ſuch at preſent is the miſerable condition of Poland: and ſuch will be the miſerable condition of Scotland, if the legiſlature afford not a remedy.

If the public intereſt only were to be regarded, the axe ought to be applied, cutting down entails to the very root: but a numberleſs body of ſubſtitutes are intereſted, many of whom would be diſinherited, if the tenants in tail had power. [288] To reconcile as much as poſſible theſe oppoſite intereſts, it is propoſed, that the following articles be authoriſed by a ſtatute. Firſt, That the act of parliament 1685 be repealed with reſpect to all future operations. Second, That entails already made and completed, ſhall continue effectual to ſuch ſubſtitutes as exiſt at the date of the act propoſed; but ſhall not benefit any ſubſtitute born after it. Third, That power be reſerved to every proprietor, after the act 1685 is at an end, to ſettle his eſtate upon what heirs he thinks proper, and to bar theſe heirs from altering the order of ſucceſſion; theſe powers being inherent in property at common law.

At the ſame time, the prohibiting entails will avail little, if truſt-deeds be permitted in their utmoſt extent, as in England. And therefore, in order to re-eſtabliſh the law of nature with reſpect to land property, a limitation of truſt-deeds is neceſſary. My propoſal is, That no truſt-deed, directing or limiting the ſucceſſion of heirs to a land-eſtate, ſhall be effectual beyond the life of the heirs in exiſtence at the time.

Appendix A.2 SKETCH II.
Government of ROYAL BOROUGHS in Scotland.

[289]

BY a royal borough is in Scotland underſtood an incorporation that hold their lands of the crown, and are governed by magiſtrates of their own naming. The adminiſtration of the annual revenues of a royal borough, termed the common good, is truſted to the magiſtrates; but not without control. It was originally ſubjected to the review of the Great Chamberlain; and accordingly the chap. 39. § 45. of the Iter Camerarii, contains the following articles, recommended to the Chamberlain to be enquired into. ‘"Giff there be an good aſſedation and uptaking of the common good of the burgh, and giff faithful compt be made thereof to the community of the burgh; and giff no compt is made, he whom and in quhaes hands it is come, and how it paſſes by the community."’ In purſuance of theſe inſtructions, the Chamberlain's precept for holding the ayr, or circuit, is directed to the provoſt and bailies, enjoining them, ‘"to call all thoſe who have received any of the town's revenues, or uſed any office within the [290] burgh, ſince the laſt chamberlain-ayr, to anſwer ſuch things as ſhall be laid to their charge."’ Iter Camer. cap. 1. And in the third chapter, which contains the forms of the chamberlain-ayr, the firſt thing to be done after fencing the court, is, to call the bailies and ſerjeants to be challenged and accuſed from the time of the laſt ayr.

This office, dangerous by exceſs of power, being ſuppreſſed, the royal boroughs were left in a ſtate of anarchy. The magiſtracy, being now no longer under any check or control, was coveted by noblemen and gentlemen in the neighbourhood; who, under the name of office-bearers, laid their hands on the revenues of the borough, and converted all to their own profit. This corruption was heavily complained of in the reign of James V.; and a remedy was provided by act 26. parl. 1535, enacting, 1 ſt, That none be qualified to be provoſt, bailie, or alderman, but an indwelling burgeſs. 2dly, ‘"That no inhabitant purchaſe lordſhip out of burgh, to the terror of his comburgeſſes. And, 3dly, That all provoſts, bailies, and aldermen of boroughs, bring yearly to the chequer at a day certain, the compt-books of their common good, to be ſeen and conſidered by the Lords Auditors, giff the ſame be ſpended for the common well of the burgh, or not, under the penalty of loſing their freedom. And that the ſaid provoſts, bailies, and aldermen, warn yearly, fifteen days before their coming to the chequer, all thoſe who are willing to come for examining the ſaid accounts, that they may impugn the ſame, in order that all murmur may ceaſe in that behalf."’ And to enforce theſe regulations, a brieve was iſſued from the chancery, commanding the magiſtrates to preſent [291] their accounts to the exchequer, and ſummoning the burgeſſes to appear and object to the ſame.

A defect in this ſtatute made it leſs effectual than it was intended to be. Magiſtrates, to avoid the penalty, brought the count-books of their common good to the exchequer; but they brought no rental of the common good to found a charge againſt them. This defect was remedied by act 28. parl. 1693, containing the following preamble. ‘"That the royal boroughs, by the male-adminiſtration of their magiſtrates, have fallen under great debts and burdens, to the diminution of their dignity, and the diſabling of them to ſerve the crown and government as they ought; and that the care, overſight, and control of the common good of boroughs, belong to their Majeſties by virtue of their prerogative-royal; therefore, for preventing the like abuſes and miſapplications in all time thereafter, their Majeſties ſtatute and ordain, That every burgh-royal, ſhall, betwixt this and the firſt of November next, bring to the Lords of Treaſury and Exchequer, an exact account of charge and diſcharge, ſubſcribed by the magiſtrates and town-clerk, of their whole public-good and revenues, and of the whole debts and incumbrances that affect the ſame."’ This completed the remedy, by putting means into the hands of the Barons of Exchequer, to control the accounts enjoined by the former ſtatute to be yearly given in.

The foregoing regulations are kept in obſervance. Every year a precept iſſues from the exchequer, ſigned by one of the Barons, addreſſed to the director of the chancery, requiring him to make out a brieve for every royal borough. The brieve is accordingly made out, returned to the [292] exchequer, and ſent to the ſeveral ſheriffs, to be ſerved in all the royal boroughs within their bounds, as directed by the ſtatute. Theſe brieves are accordingly ſo ſerved by the ſheriffs; and particularly it is a conſtant form in moſt of the royal boroughs, to iſſue a proclamation, fifteen days before the day named for appearance in exchequer, warning the inhabitants to repair there, in order to object to the public accounts of the town: and further, in order to give them opportunity to frame objections, the book and accounts are laid open for theſe fifteen days, to be inſpected by all the inhabitants.

We learn from the records of exchequer, that from the year 1660 to the year 1683, accounts were regularly given in to exchequer, in obedience to the ſtatute. The town of Edinburgh only having failed for ſome ſhort time, Captain Thomas Hamilton merchant there, by an action in exchequer, compelled the magiſtrates to produce upon oath their treaſurer's accounts, which were accordingly audited. And we alſo learn, that from the Reſtoration down to the Union, a clerk to the borough-roll was appointed by the crown, whoſe proper buſineſs it was to examine and audite the accounts of the boroughs.

Notwithſtanding the foregoing ſalutary regulations, and the form conſtantly practiſed to make them effectual, the boroughs of late years have forborn to preſent their accounts in exchequer; hoping that they would be overlooked by the Engliſh court of exchequer, eſtabliſhed in Scotland after the Union; which accordingly happened. This neglect in the court of exchequer is greatly to be regretted, becauſe it reduces the royal boroughs, by the male-adminiſtration of their magiſtrates, to the ſame miſerable condition [293] that is ſo loudly complained of in the ſtatutes above mentioned. It is undoubtedly in the power of the Barons to reſtore good government to the boroughs, by compelling the magiſtrates to account yearly in the court of exchequer, according to the foregoing regulations. And to that end no more is neceſſary, but to ſignify publicly that they are reſolved hereafter to put theſe regulations in execution.

How beneficial that ſtep would be to this country in general, and to the royal boroughs in particular, will appear from conſidering, firſt, the unhappy conſequences that reſult from ſuffering magiſtrates to diſpoſe of the town's revenues, without any check or control; and next the good effects that muſt reſult from a regular and careful management, under the inſpection of the King's judges.

The unhappy conſequences of leaving magiſtrates without any check or control, are too viſible to be diſguiſed. The revenues of a royal borough are ſeldom laid out for the good of the town, but in making friends to the knot who are in poſſeſſion of the magiſtracy; and in rioting and drunkenneſs, for which every pretext is laid hold of, particularly that of hoſpitality to ſtrangers. Such miſmanagement tends to idleneſs, and corruption of manners; which accordingly are remarkable in moſt royal boroughs. Nor is the contagion confined within the town: it commonly ſpreads all around.

Another conſequence, no leſs fatal, of leaving magiſtrates to act without control, is a ſtrong deſire in every licentious burgeſs, of ſtepping into the magiſtracy, for his own ſake, and for that of his friends. Hence the factions and animoſities that prevail in almoſt all the royal boroughs; [294] which are violently and indecently purſued, without the leaſt regard to the good of the community.

The greateſt evil of all, reſpects the choice of their repreſentatives in parliament. A habit of riot and intemperance, makes them fit ſubjects to be corrupted, by every adventurer who is willing to lay out money for purchaſing a ſeat in parliament. Hence the infamous practice of bribery at elections, which tends not only to corrupt the whole maſs of the people, but, which is ſtill more dreadful, tends to fill the Houſe of Commons with men of diſſolute manners, void of probity and honour.

But turning from ſcenes ſo diſmal, let us view the beautiful effects that reſult, from an adminiſtration regularly carried on, as directed by the ſtatutes above mentioned. The revenues of the royal boroughs are ſuppoſed to be above L. 40,000 yearly. And were this ſum, or the half of it, prudently expended, for promoting arts and induſtry among the numerous inhabitants of royal boroughs, the benefit, in a country ſo narrow and poor as Scotland, would be immenſe: it would tend to population, it would greatly increaſe induſtry, manufactures, and commerce, beſide augmenting the public revenue. In the next place, as there would be no temptation for deſigning men to convert the burden of magiſtracy into a benefit, faction and diſcord would vaniſh; and there would be no leſs ſolicitude to ſhun the burden, than at preſent is ſeen to obtain it. None would ſubmit to the burden but the truly patriotic, men who would chearfully beſtow their time, and perhaps their money, upon the public; and whoſe ambition it would be to acquire a [295] character, by promoting induſtry, temperance, and honeſty, among their fellow-citizens.

And when the government of the royal boroughs comes to be in ſo good hands, bribery, which corrupts the very vitals of our conſtitution, will be baniſhed of courſe. And conſidering the proper and conſtitutional dependence of the royal boroughs upon the king's judges, we may have reaſonable aſſurance, that few repreſentatives will be choſen, but who are friends to their country and to their ſovereign.

Appendix A.3 SKETCH III.
Plan for improving and preſerving in order the HIGHWAYS in Scotland.

[496]

Appendix A.3.1 PREFACE.

HIghways have in Scotland become a capital object of police, by the increaſe of inland commerce, upon which bad roads are a heavy tax. Happily for our country, no perſon is ignorant of this truth; and we ſee with pleaſure the fruits of their conviction in various attempts, publick and private, to eſtabliſh this valuable branch of police upon the beſt footing. As this will be found no eaſy taſk, it may reaſonably be hoped, that men of genius will ſeriouſly apply themſelves to it, and in general that every perſon will freely produce ſuch hints as occur to them. In the latter view the following plan is offered to the public: and if, from the various propoſals that have been or ſhall be publiſhed, an effective plan can be framed, ſuch as completely to anſwer its purpoſe, it may ſafely be pronounced, that it will produce more benefit to this country, than has been produced by any other ſingle improvement ſince the union of the two kingdoms.

Appendix A.3.2

[297]

1. THE juſtices of peace, commiſſioners of ſupply, the ſheriff or ſtewart depute, and the firſt magiſtrate of royal boroughs, ſhall be commiſſioners for making and repairing highways, bridges, and ferries, in the ſeveral ſhires and ſtewartries. All the powers given by law to the juſtices of peace, and commiſſioners of ſupply, with reſpect to highways, bridges, and ferries, ſhall be transferred to them; and any two ſhall be a quorum, except where a greater number is required by this act.

2. The ſheriff or ſtewart depute ſhall appoint the firſt day of meeting of the ſaid commiſſioners, as ſoon as may conveniently be after the date of the act, by an intimation at each pariſhchurch upon a Sunday at the cloſe of the forenoon-ſervice. And the laſt Tueſday of March ſhall yearly thereafter be a day of meeting at the head borough of the ſhire or ſtewartry, in place of the firſt or third Tueſday of May appointed by former acts. The commiſſioners ſhall appoint a preſes, convener, and clerk: and they ſhall be impowered to adjourn themſelves from time to time.

3. The commiſſioners, at their firſt meeting, ſhall ſet about a diviſion of the ſhire or ſtewartry into two or more diſtricts, as they ſee convenient. And if they cannot overtake this work at that meeting, they ſhall appoint proper perſons to form a plan of the intended diviſions, which plan ſhall be reported to the commiſſioners at their next meeting, in order to be approved or altered by them. This being ſettled, the commiſſioners ſhall appoint the heritors in theſe ſeveral diſtricts, or any three of them, to meet on a certain day and place, to make liſts of the whole publick [298] roads within their reſpective diſtricts, and to ſettle the order of reparation, beginning with thoſe that are the moſt frequented. The proceedings of theſe diſtrict-meetings muſt be reported to the commiſſioners, at their next meeting; who are empowered to ſettle the order of reparation, in caſe of variance among the heritors; and alſo to add any road that may have been omitted. And they ſhall record a ſcheme or plan of the whole roads in the ſhire, thus enliſted, with their reſolutions thereupon, to be ſeen in the clerk's hands gratis. But upon any juſt cauſe appearing in the courſe of adminiſtration, the commiſſioners ſhall be empowered to alter or vary this plan, provided it be at a meeting previouſly appointed for that purpoſe, and where three fifths at leaſt of the commiſſioners are preſent.

4. If the ſheriff or ſtewart neglect to appoint the firſt meeting of the commiſſioners, he ſhall incur a penalty of L. 100, upon a ſummary complaint to the court of ſeſſion by any one heritor of the ſhire; with coſts of ſuit, the one half to the plaintiff, and the other half to be applied by the commiſſioners for the purpoſes of this act. If the commiſſioners fail to meet at the day appointed by the ſheriff or ſtewart, or fail to divide the ſhire or ſtewartry into diſtricts, within ſix months of their firſt meeting, the ſheriff or ſtewart depute, under the foreſaid penalty, ſhall be bound to do that work himſelf; and alſo to appoint the heritors in the ſeveral diſtricts, or any three of them, to make liſts of the public roads as above mentioned, and to report their reſolutions to him; and he is empowered to ſettle the order of reparation, in caſe of variance among the heritors. If the heritors fail to meet, and to [299] make a liſt of the roads as aforeſaid, this work ſhall be performed by the ſheriff or ſtewart depute himſelf. And he ſhall be indemnified of whatever expences he is at in proſecuting the ſaid work, out of the ſums that are to be levied by authority of this act, in manner after mentioned, with an additional ſum for his own trouble, to be named by the circuit-judges.

5. No perſon ſhall act as a commiſſioner upon this ſtatute, but who has an eſtate within the county of L. 200 Scots valuation, or is heirpreſumptive to ſuch an eſtate, or is named a commiſſioner virtute officii, under the penalty of L. 20 Sterling toties quoties, to be proſecuted before any competent court, by a popular action, with coſts of ſuit; the one half to the plaintiff, the other half to the purpoſes of this act.

6. Whereas the ſum of 10d. directed by the act 1669 to be impoſed upon each L. 100 of valued rent, is inſufficient for the purpoſes therein expreſſed; and whereas the ſix days ſtatute-work for repairing the highways is in many reſpects inconvenient; therefore inſtead of the 10d. and inſtead of the ſtatute-work, the commiſſioners, together with the heritors poſſeſſed of L. 200 Scots of valued rent, five, whether commiſſioners or heritors, making a quorum, ſhall annually, upon the ſaid laſt Tueſday of March, aſſeſs each heritor in a ſum not exceeding

upon each L. 100 valued rent; the aſſeſſment impoſed on the heritors to be levied by the collector of ſupply, along with the ceſs, and by the ſame legal remedies. The heritors are entitled to relieve themſelves of the one half of the ſaid aſſeſſment, by laying the ſame upon their tenants, in proportion to their rents; an heritor being always conſidered as a tenant of the land he has in his natural poſſeſſion.

[300] 7. With reſpect to boroughs of royalty, regality, and barony, and large trading villages, the commiſſioners are empowered to levy from each houſeholder, a ſum not exceeding 2 s. yearly, more or leſs in proportion to the aſſeſſment of the ſhire, to be paid within forty days after notice given, under the penalty of double, beſides expence of proceſs. Provided, that any of theſe houſeholders who have country farms, by which they contribute to relieve their landlords as above mentioned, ſhall be exempted from this part of the aſſeſſment.

8. If the commiſſioners and heritors neglect to aſſeſs their ſhire, or name ſo ſmall a ſum as to be an eluſory aſſeſſment, inſufficient to anſwer the purpoſes of this act, the court of juſticiary, or the circuit judges, are in that caſe empowered and required to lay on the higheſt aſſeſſment that is made lawful by this act. In caſe of a total omiſſion, the commiſſioners and heritors who, by neglecting to convene without a good cauſe of abſence, have occaſioned the ſaid omiſſion, ſhall be ſubjected each of them to a penalty of L. 20 Sterling. And to make theſe penalties effectual, the truſtees for fiſheries and manufactures are appointed to ſue for the ſame before the court of ſeſſion, and to apply the ſame, when recovered, to any uſeful purpoſe within the ſhire, eſpecially to the purpoſes of this act. And to preſerve the ſaid fines entire for the public ſervice, the truſtees ſhall be entitled to coſts of ſuit.

9. The ſums levied as aforeſaid ſhall be laid out annually upon the highways, bridges, and ferries, for making, repairing, or improving the ſame; proceeding regularly with the reparation according to the ſcheme or plan ordered as above to be ſettled in each ſhire and ſtewartry.

[301] 10. With reſpect to roads that are not the firſt in order, and for which there is no interim proviſion by this act during reparation of the more frequented roads, the commiſſioners are impowered to exact from cottars and day-labourers their ſtatute-work according to the acts preſently in force, to be applied to thoſe ſecondary roads. The ſtatute-work is not to be demanded unleſs for this purpoſe; and is to ceaſe totally after the highways have, by means of the preſent act, been once totally repaired.

11. The commiſſioners and heritors, at all their meetings, ſhall bear their own charges.

12. The clauſe in the act 1661, empowering heritors, at the ſight of the ſheriff, to caſt about highways for their convenience, ſhall be repealed; and it ſhall be declared unlawful, in time coming, to turn about or change any highway, unleſs for the benefit of the public, as by ſhortening it, carrying it through firmer ground, or making it more level; and to that purpoſe the commiſſioners ſhall be impowered to turn about highways, as alſo to widen the ſame, not exceeding thirty feet, free of ditches. But the commiſſioners ſhall have no power to carry a road through any houſe, garden, orchard, or pleaſure-ground.

13. The commiſſioners ſhall have power to take from the adjacent lands, ſtones, ſand, gravel, or other materials for making the highways, paying always for the damage done.

14. With reſpect to high-roads which bound the properties of neighbouring heritors, and which it may be found neceſſary to alter or widen, the commiſſioners ſhall be empowered to adjudge to one heritor any ſmall bits of ground cut off from the other by the road ſo altered; [302] and if land cannot be given for land, to make a compenſation in money, valuing the land at the current price of the country.

15. In order to prevent water ſtagnating on the highways, the commiſſioners ſhall be impowered to make ditches or drains through neighbouring grounds; and ſuch ditches or drains ſhall be preſerved entire by the proprietors of the land, or at their charges.

16. As the aforeſaid aſſeſſment, after repairing the highways, may not be ſufficient for building bridges, or making ferries, where rivers are large; any five of the commiſſioners may, for building bridges, or making ferries, eſtabliſh a pontage or toll; ſo much for horſes, ſo much for horned cattle, and ſo much for ſheep, and the double for each beaſt in a wheel-carriage. Upon the credit of the toll the ſaid commiſſioners may borrow money, to be employed wholly upon the bridge or ferry where the toll is gathered. But before borrowing the money, an eſtimate muſt be made of the expence of the work. After the work is finiſhed, the ſum beſtowed on it muſt be aſcertained: an accurate account muſt be kept of the gradual payment of this ſum by the toll; and when it is completely paid, the commiſſioners muſt declare the bridge or ferry to be free.

17. The determinations of the commiſſioners ſhall be final, unleſs complained of in manner following.

18. If any heritor apprehend that undue preference is given to a certain highway, or conceive himſelf aggrieved by an order or ſentence of the commiſſioners, it ſhall be lawful for him, within forty days of the act complained of, to enter a complaint in the court of ſeſſion; and the [303] judgment upon ſuch complaint ſhall be final. But ſuch complaint ſhall only be effectual for damages, and ſhall not ſtay execution of the work. At the ſame time, no complaint ſhall be admitted till ſecurity be given to pay full coſts, in caſe the plaintiff be found in the wrong.

19. Former laws concerning highways, bridges, or ferries, to continue in force, unleſs as far as altered by this act.

20. An annual ſtate of what is done by virtue of this act, made up by the commiſſioners, or their clerk, ſhall, before the laſt Tueſday of March, be laid before the truſtees for fiſheries and manufactures, in order to be made a part of their annual report to the King; and theſe truſtees ſhall direct proper perſons to inſpect what work is done upon the high-roads, and in what manner. Upon any miſapplication or embezzlement of the money levied, any neglect in levying, or any wrong done to the public, contrary to the intention of this act, the truſtees are required to ſet on foot and proſecute what redreſs is competent in law or equity, provided the proſecution be commenced within a year after the offence.

Query, Ought not broad wheels to be required?

Appendix A.3.3 CONSIDERATIONS on the preceding PLAN.

[304]

THE laws in Scotland relating to this branch of public police, are numerous; ſome enacted while Scotland was a ſeparate kingdom, ſome after its union with England. It is not the purpoſe of this paper to enter into a detail of the various regulations eſtabliſhed by theſe laws: they are generally known; and in the late abridgment of our ſtatute-law, they are all recapitulated with brevity and preciſion. It ſhall ſuffice curſorily to obſerve, that the acts made during the reign of Charles II. form the ground-work of our regulations concerning highways: the latter acts are little more than explanatory of the former.

It ſeems to have been the plan of the legiſlature, that highways ſhould be repaired by thoſe who are employed in huſbandry; and accordingly, the ſix days annual labour is, in the ſtatutes of Charles II. impoſed upon them only.

This was a meaſure not ill ſuited to the ſtate of Scotland at that period. During the laſt century, we had little inland commerce to require [305] good roads, except that of corn carried to market; and for that reaſon, it was natural to impoſe upon huſbandmen the burden of repairing highways. Theſe perſons, at the ſame time, paſſing the whole ſummer in idleneſs, unleſs when called to perform perſonal ſervices to capricious and unfeeling landlords, could not think it a hardſhip to have ſome part of their time employed in ſerving themſelves inſtead of their landlords.

That annual labour upon highways, limited to a few days, ſhould be required from men in that condition, appears not unjuſt. And why may we not ſuppoſe the legiſlature at that time capable of ſuch enlarged views, as to prefer this method for repairing highways, in order to bring on gradually a habit of labour and induſtry? But the condition of Scotland at preſent differs widely from what it was in the reign of Charles II.; and the regulations for repairing highways which were then proper, have, by alteration of circumſtances, become both unjuſt and inexpedient.

Unjuſt they have become in a high degree. Inland commerce, which begins to flouriſh in Scotland, is greatly promoted by good roads; and every dealer, and indeed every traveller, profits by them. But no men are leſs intereſted in good roads than day-labourers, or thoſe who are commonly called cottars; and yet theſe chiefly are burdened with the reparation. Such men, at the ſame time having commonly many children, find it difficult to ſupport their families, even with their utmoſt induſtry. Nothing can be more unjuſt, than to impoſe upon ſuch men an annual tax of ſix days labour for repairing roads, the goodneſs of which [306] contributes little or nothing to their convenience.

Our preſent laws are inexpedient, as well as unjuſt. In the firſt place, a tax of this nature diſcourages the propagation of children, in which the ſtrength of a ſtate conſiſts: the poor labourer ought to be encouraged with a reward, inſtead of being diſcouraged with a tax. In the next place, cottars called out to perform the ſtatute-work, obey with reluctance, and trifle away time without doing any thing effectual. To enforce the law, and to compel ſuch men to labour, is grievous to the gentlemen who are empowered to execute the law: they cannot puniſh with rigour or firmneſs, men who have ſo good reaſon to decline the ſervice: they are ſoon diſguſted with being taſkmaſters, and the generality deſiſt altogether.

Laws concerning private property are always kept in obſervance, and they execute themſelves, as is commonly expreſſed, becauſe there are always a multitude of individuals ſtrongly intereſted to have them executed. But in making public laws, the great difficulty has ever been, to lay down effectual meaſures for putting them in execution; and by what means to make ſuch laws execute themſelves, is one of the moſt intricate problems in politics. Our laws concerning highways, are eminently defective in that reſpect: and accordingly, though moſt of them have exiſted near a century, they never have at any period been executed to any extent. Take the following ſpecimen, among many that may be urged, of this defect. Overſeers are forced into ſervice under a penalty, in order to compel [307] the peaſants to perform faithfully their ſix-days labour. To hope any good from a reluctant overſeer ſet over a ſet of reluctant labourers, is a fond conceit: it is much if his reſentment tempt him not to encourage their idleneſs. In vain would we expect, that any overſeer, without a ſuitable reward, will exert himſelf in promoting the work.

To remedy the hardſhip of laying the burden of reparation upon thoſe who are leaſtable and leaſt benefited, and at the ſame time to make this remedy effectual, is the purpoſe of the foregoing plan. And upon conſidering the matter in its different views, the only method that promiſes ſucceſs, appears to be a county-tax laid upon land according to the valuation, and a capitation-tax on the inhabitants of boroughs. Theſe taxes relieve the labouring poor, and lay the burden where it ought to be laid: and the law will execute itſelf, if that effect can be hoped from any public law. Effectual meaſures are laid down for levying the tax: and, if once levied, there is no danger of its being allowed to lie unemployed in the hands of the collector; for every heritor will be anxious to have ſome part employed for his benefit. The danger will rather be of factious diſputes about the diſtribution. This danger alſo is attempted to be prevented; and, it is hoped, with ſucceſs.

Some narrow-minded perſons may poſſibly grudge a tax, that loads the preſent generation for the advantage of thoſe who come after: but is it rational to grudge, that others ſhould benefit by meaſures evidently calculated for advancing our own intereſt? Let us ſuppoſe, that the heritors of a ſhire were to concert [308] meaſures in common, for improving their lands: to make good roads would be one effectual meaſure; for ſuppoſing the reparation to coſt L. 5000, their eſtates would be bettered double that ſum.

To conclude: It is not to be expected that any regulations concerning highways, or concerning any branch of police, can be ſo framed as to pleaſe every individual. Wiſe men are practicable men, to uſe an expreſſion of Lord Bacon, and will make conceſſions in order to promote a general good, if without ſuch conceſſions it cannot be obtained. Better far to have a good law, though in our opinion defective in ſome articles, than to have no law at all, or, which is worſe, a law eminently defective, unjuſt, and inexpedient.

FINIS.

Appendix B

☞ The Binder is requeſted to take Notice that the Signa [...] of Vol. III. are marked Vol. II. as far as Sheet I.

Notes
*
Akin to theſe, are certain habitual acts done without thought, ſuch as ſnuffing or grinning. Cuſtom enables one to move the fingers on an inſtrument of muſic, without being directed by will: the motion is often too quick for an act of will. Some arrive at great perfection in the art of balancing: the ſlighteſt deviation from the juſt balance is inſtantly redreſſed: were a preceding act of will neceſſary, it would be too late. An unexpected hollow in walking, occaſions a violent ſhock: is not this evidence, that external motion is governed by the mind, frequently without conſciouſneſs; and that in walking, the body is adjuſted before-hand to what is expected?
*
To incline, to reſolve, to intend, to will, are acts of the mind relative to external action. Theſe ſeveral acts are well underſtood; though they cannot be defined, being perfectly ſimple.
a
Elements of Criticiſm, vol. 1. p. 207. edit. 5.
*
Every perception muſt proceed from ſome faculty or power of perception, termed ſenſe. The moral ſenſe, by which we perceive the qualities of right and wrong, may be conſidered either as a branch of the ſenſe of ſeeing, by which we perceive the actions to which theſe qualities belong, or as a ſenſe diſtinct from all others. The ſenſes by which objects are perceived, are not ſeparated from each other by diſtinct boundaries; and the ſorting or claſſing them, ſeems to depend more on taſte and fancy, than on nature. I have followed the plan laid down by former writers; which is, to conſider the moral ſenſe as a ſenſe diſtinct from others, becauſe it is the eaſieſt and cleareſt manner of conceiving it.
a
Sect. 5.
a
Lord Shafteſbury.
b
Helvetius,
a
Sect. 4.
*
‘"Many moraliſts enter ſo deeply into one paſſion or bias of human nature, that, to uſe the painter's phraſe, they quite overcharge it. Thus I have ſeen a whole ſyſtem of morals founded upon a ſingle pillar of the inward frame; and the entire conduct of life, and all the characters in it, accounted for, ſometimes from ſuperſtition, ſometimes from pride, and moſt commonly from intereſt. They forget how various a creature it is they are painting; how many ſprings and weights, nicely adjuſted and balanced, enter into the movement, and require allowance to be made for their ſeveral clogs and impulſes, ere you can define its operation and defects."’ Enquiry into the life and writings of Homer.
*
This doctrine is obviouſly founded on juſtice; and yet, in the Roman law, there are two paſſages which deny any recompence in ſuch caſes. ‘"Item Labeo ſcribit, ſi cum vi ventorum navis impulſa eſſet in funes anchorarum alterius, et nautae funes praecidiſſent; ſi nullo alio modo, niſi praeciſis funibus, explicare ſe potuit, nullam actionem dandam;"’ l. 29. § 3. ad leg. Aquil. ‘"Quod dicitur damnum injuria datum Aquilia perſequi, ſic erit accipiendum, ut videatur damnum injuria datum quod cum damno injuriam attulerit; niſi magna vi cogente, fuerit factum. Ut Celſus ſcribit circa eum, qui incendii arcendi gratia vicinas aedes intercidit: et ſive pervenit ignis, ſive ante extinctus eſt, exiſtimat legis Aquiliae actionem ceſſare."’ l. 49. § 1. eod.—[In Engliſh thus: ‘"In the opinion of Labeo, if a ſhip is driven by the violence of a tempeſt among the anchor-ropes of another ſhip, and the ſailors cut the ropes, having no other means of getting free, there is no action competent.—The Aquilian law muſt be underſtood to apply only to ſuch damage as carries the idea of an injury along with it, unleſs ſuch injury has not been wilfully done, but from neceſſity. Thus Celſus puts the caſe of a perſon who, to ſtop the progreſs of a fire, pulls down his neighbour's houſe; and whether the fire had reached that houſe which is pulled down, or was extinguiſhed before it got to it, in neither caſe, he thinks, will an action be competent from the Aquilian law."]’—Theſe opinions are undoubtedly erroneous. And it is not difficult to ſay what has occaſioned the error: the caſes mentioned are treated as belonging to the lex Aquilia; which being confined to the reparation of wrongs, lays it juſtly down for a rule, That no action for reparation can lie, where there is no culpa. But had Labeo and Celſus adverted, that theſe caſes belong to a different head, viz. the duty of recompenſe, where one ſuffers loſs by benefitting another, they themſelves would have had no difficulty of ſuſtaining a claim for making up that loſs.
a
Emile, liv. 5.
*
Truth is always uppermoſt, being the natural iſſue of the mind: it requires no art nor training, no inducement nor temptation, but only that we yield to natural impulſe. Lying, on the contrary, is doing violence to our nature; and is never practiſed, even by the worſt of men, without ſome temptation. Speaking truth is like uſing our natural food, which we would do from appetite although it anſwered no end: lying is like taking phyſic, which is nauſeous to the taſte, and which no man takes but for ſome end which he cannot otherwiſe attain. Dr. Reid's Enquiry into the human mind.
a
See Elements of Criticiſm, vol. 1. p. 187. edit. 5.
*
Virtue ſignifies that diſpoſition of mind which gives the aſcendant to moral principles. Vice ſignifies that diſpoſition of mind which gives little or no aſcendant to moral principles.
a
Sect. 7.
a
Sect. 7.
a
Geneſis xlii. 21.
*

John Duke of Britany, commonly termed the Good Duke, illuſtrious for generoſity, clemency, and piety, reigned forty-three years, wholly employed about the good of his ſubjects. He was ſucceeded by his eldeſt ſon Francis, a prince weak and ſuſpicious, and conſequently fit to be governed. Arthur of Montauban, in love with the wife of Gilles, brother to the Duke, perſuaded the Duke that his brother was laying plots to dethrone him. Gilles being impriſoned, the Duke's beſt friends conjured him to pity his unhappy brother, who might be imprudent, but aſſuredly was innocent; but in vain. Gilles being proſecuted before the three eſtates of the province for high treaſon, was unanimouſly abſolved; which irritated the Duke more and more. Arthur of Montauban artfully ſuggeſted to his maſter to try poiſon; which having miſcarried, they next reſolved to ſtarve the priſoner to death. The unfortunate prince, through the bars of a window, cried aloud for bread; but the paſſengers durſt not ſupply him. One poor woman only had courage more than once to ſlip ſome bread within the window. He charged a prieſt, who had received his confeſſion, to declare to the Duke, ‘"That ſeeing juſtice was refuſed him in this world, he appealed to Heaven, and called upon the Duke to appear before the judgment-ſeat of God in forty days."’ The Duke and his favourite, amazed that the prince lived ſo long without nouriſhment, employed aſſaſſins to ſmother him with his bed-cloaths. The prieſt, in obedience to the orders he had received, preſented himſelf before the Duke, and with a loud voice cited him in the name of the deceaſed Lord Gilles to appear before God in forty days. Shame and remorſe verified the prediction. The Duke was ſeized with a ſudden terror; and the image of his brother, expiring by his orders, haunted him day and night. He decayed daily without any marks of a regular diſeaſe, and died within the forty days in frightful agony.

See this ſubject further illuſtrated in the Sketch Principles and Progreſs of Theology, chap. 1.

a
See Elements of Criticiſm, chap. 10.
*
Virtuous and vicious, innocent and guilty, ſignify qualities both of men and of their actions. Approbation and diſapprobation, praiſe and blame, ſignify certain emotions or ſentiments of thoſe who ſee or contemplate men and their actions.
*
During the infancy of nations, pecuniary compoſitions for crimes were univerſal; and during that long period, very little weight was laid upon intention. This proceeded from the cloudineſs and obſcurity of moral perceptions among barbarians, joined with the reſemblance of pecuniary puniſhment to reparation. Where a man does miſchief intentionally, or is verſans in illicito, as expreſſed in the Roman law, he is juſtly bound to repair all the harm that enſues, however accidentally; and from the reſemblance of pecuniary puniſhment to reparation, the rule was childiſhly extended to puniſhment. But this rule, ſo little conſiſtent with moral principles, could not long ſubſiſt after pecuniary compoſitions gave place to corporal puniſhment; and accordingly, among civilized nations, the law of nature is reſtored, which prohibits puniſhment for any miſchief that is not intentional. The Engliſh muſt be excepted, who, remarkably tenacious of their original laws and cuſtoms, preſerve in force, even as to capital puniſhment, the above-mentioned rule that obtained among barbarians, when pecuniary compoſitions were in vigour. The following paſſage is from Hales (Pleas of the Crown, chap. 39.) ‘"Regularly he that voluntarily and knowingly intends hurt to the perſon of a man, as for example to beat him, though he intend not death, yet if death enſues, it excuſeth not from the guilt of murder, or manſlaughter at leaſt, as the circumſtances of the caſe happen."’ And Foſter, in his Crown-law, teaches the ſame doctrine, never once ſuſpecting in it the leaſt deviation from moral principles. ‘"A ſhooteth at the poultry of B, and by accident killeth a man: if his intention was to ſteal the poultry, which muſt be collected from circumſtances, it will be murder by reaſon of that felonious intent; but if it was done wantonly, and without that intention, it will be barely manſlaughter."’ (p. 259.)
*
Innocent here is oppoſed to culpable in a broader ſenſe it is oppoſed to criminal. With reſpect to puniſhment, an action though culpable is innocent, if it be not criminal: with reſpect to reparation, it is not innocent if it be culpable.
a
Sect. 7.
a
l. 8. § 1. ad leg. Aquil.
a
Sect. 4.
*
A ſtonechatter makes its neſt on the ground or near it; and the young, as ſoon as they can ſhift for themſelves, leave the neſt inſtinctivly. An egg of that bird was laid in a ſwallow's neſt, fixed to the roof of a church. The ſwallow fed all the young equally without diſtinction. The young ſtonechatter left the neſt at the uſual time before it could fly; and falling to the ground, it was taken up dead. Here is inſtinct in purity, exerting itſelf blindly without regard to variation of circumſtances. The ſame is obſervable in our dunghill-fowl. They feed on worms, corn, and other feeds dropt on the ground. In order to diſcover their food, nature has provided them with an inſtinct to ſcrape with the foot; and the inſtinct is ſo regularly exerciſed, that they ſcrape even when they are ſet upon a heap of corn.
a
Chap. 2.
a
Chap. 2. part 4.
a
See book 2. ſketch 1. at the end.
*
In an intricate ſubject like the preſent, great care ſhould be taken to avoid ambiguities. The term praiſe has two different ſignifications: in one ſenſe it is oppoſed to blame; in another to diſpraiſe. In the former ſenſe it expreſſes a moral ſentiment: in the latter, it expreſſes only the approving any object that pleaſes me. I praiſe one man for his candour, and blame another for being a double-dealer. Theſe, both of them, imply will and intention. I praiſe a man for being acute; but for being dull, I only diſpraiſe him. I praiſe a woman for beauty; but blame not any for uglineſs, I only diſpraiſe them. None of theſe particulars imply will or intention.
a
Chap. 2. part 5.
a
See Eſſays on Morality and Natural Religion, part 1. eſſay 3.
*
‘"The indolent principle; which if we were to follow, we ſhould do nothing in life."’
a
Dr Cudworth and Dr Smith.
a
See Hiſtorical Law-tracts, tract 1.
a
Book 2. Sketch 2.
a
Hiſtoria Gothica, lib. 3.
b
Deſcription of Ruſſia, Siberia, &c.
a
Kolben.
a
See Hiſtorical Law-tracts, tract 1.
a
Meurſeus de legibus Atticis, lib. 2. cap. 2.
b
Eod. lib. 2. cap. 15.
c
Quintus Curtius, lib. 6. cap. 11.
*
‘"I am ſenſible of the hardſhip of puniſhing the child for the crime of the parent: this, however, is a wiſe enactment of our laws; for hereby the parent is bound to the intereſt of the ſtate by the ſtrongeſt of all ties, the affection to his offſpring."’
a
Ep. 12. ad Brutum.
b
Deuteronomy xxiv. 16.
a
2 Kings, chap. 14.
b
Chap. 18.
c
1 Samuel, chap. 25.
b
l. 22. Cod. De poenis.
*
‘"We ordain, that the puniſhment of the crime ſhall extend to the criminal alone. We hold his relations, his friends, and his acquaintances, unſuſpected; for intimacy, friendſhip, or connection, are no proof or argument of guilt. The conſequences of the crime ſhall purſue only its perpetrator. Let this ſtatute be intimated to all our judges."’
c
l. 5. Cod. ad leg. Jul. majeſt.
*
‘"By a ſpecial extenſion of our imperial clemency, we allow the ſons of the criminal to live; although, in ſtrict juſtice, being tainted with hereditary guilt, they ought to ſuffer the puniſhment of their father. But it is our will, that they ſhall be incapable of all-inheritance, either from the mother, the grandfather, or any of their kindred; that they ſhall be deprived of the power of inheriting by the teſtament of a ſtranger; that they ſhall be abandoned to the extreme of poverty and perpetual indigence; that the infamy of their father ſhall ever attend them, incapable of honours, and excluded from the participation of religious rites; that ſuch, in fine, ſhall be the miſery of their condition, that life ſhall be a puniſhment, and death a comfort."’
a
Elements of Criticiſm, chap. 2. ſect. 5.
a
Lib. 5.
*
Athens, from the nature of its government as eſtabliſhed by Solon, was rendered uncapable of any regular or conſiſtent body of laws. In every caſe, civil and criminal, the whole people were judges in the laſt reſort. And what ſort of judges will an ignorant multitude make, who have no guide but paſſion and prejudice? It is vain to make good laws, when ſuch judges are interpreters. Anacharſis, the Scythian, being preſent at an aſſembly of the people, ſaid, ‘"It was ſingular, that in Athens, wiſe men pleaded cauſes, and fools determined them."’
a
Odyſſey, book 13.
b
Book 14.
c
Book 14. book 15.
*
Upon the ſtory of Jupiter being deceived by Juno in the 14th book of the Iliad, Pope ſays, ‘"That he knows not a bolder fiction in all antiquity, nor one that has a greater air of impiety."’ Pope it would ſeem was little acquainted with antiquity: for ſuch acts of impiety were common among the Greeks; and in particular the incident mentioned in the text, is not only more impious, but alſo a more groſs violation of the laws of morality.
a
Judges iv. 5.
b
I Samuel, xxvii. 11.
a
2 Samuel, xix. 24.
b
1 Kings, ii. 9.
a
Antiquities, book 6.
a
Carta de Foreſta, cap. 6.
a
Book 2. ſketch 1.
b
Hobbes.
*
In one of our ill-concerted deſcents upon France during the late war, ſignal humanity appeared, in forbearing to burn a manufactory of ſails and ropes, belonging to the King; becauſe it would have deſtroyed an adjoining building of the ſame kind belonging to a private manufacturer.
*
‘"For the friendſhip of the ſheriff."’
a
Vol. 4.
*
A bankrupt in England who pays three fourths of his debt, and obtains a certificate of his good behaviour, is diſcharged of all the debts contracted by him before his bankruptcy. Such regulation was perhaps not unſuitable to the moderation and frugality of the period when it was made. But luxury and external ſhow, have now become our ruling paſſions; and to ſupply our extravagance, money muſt be procured at any rate. Trade in particular has degenerated into a ſpecies of gaming; men venturing their all, in hopes of a lucky hit to elevate them above their neighbours. And did they only venture their own, the caſe would not be deplorable; they venture all they can procure upon credit; and by that means, reduce to beggary many an innocent family: with reſpect to themſelves, they know the worſt of it, which is to be cleared from their debts by a certificate. The morals of our people are indeed at ſo low an ebb, as to require the moſt ſevere laws againſt bankruptcy. When a man borrows a ſum, it is implied in the covenant, that all his effects preſent and future ſhall lie open to the creditor; for which reaſon, it is contradictory to juſtice, that a creditor ſhould be forced to diſcharge his debtor without obtaining complete payment. Many debtors, it is true, deſerve favour; but it ought to be left to the humanity of creditors, and not to be forced from them by law. The debtor, at the ſame time, may be ſafely left to the humanity of his creditors: for if he have conducted his affairs with ſtrict integrity, and with any degree of prudence, there will ſcarce be found one man ſo hard-hearted, as to ſtand out againſt the laudable and benevolent intentions of his fellow-creditors. Nay, if he have any regard to character, he dares not ſtand out: he would be held as a monſter, and be abhorred by all the world. To leave a bankrupt thus to the mercy of his creditors, would produce the moſt ſalutary effects. It would excite men to be ſtrictly juſt in their dealings, and put an end to gaming, ſo deſtructive to credit; becauſe miſbehaviour in any of theſe particulars would ſet the whole creditors againſt their debtor, and leave him no hope of favour. In the late bankruptſtatute for Scotland, accordingly, the clauſe concerning the certificate was wiſely left out, as unſuitable to the depraved manners of the preſent times.
a
L'Eſprit des loix, liv. 8. ch. 13.
*
In the fifteenth century, the French clergy from the pulpit cenſured public tranſactions, and even the conduct of their king, as our Britiſh clergy did in the days of Charles I. and II. They aſſumed the privilege of a Roman cenſor; but they were not men of ſuch authority as to do any good in a corrupted nation.
a
See Hiſtorical Law-tracts, tract 2.
*
Lying and perjury are not in every caſe equally criminal; at leaſt are not commonly reckoned ſo. Lying or perjury, in order to injure a man, is held highly criminal; and the greater the hurt, the greater the crime. To relieve from puniſhment, few boggle at a lie or at perjury: ſincerity is not even expected; and hence the practice of torture. Many men are not ſcrupulous about oaths, when they have no view but to obtain juſtice to themſelves: the Jacobites, that they might not be deprived of their privileges as Britiſh ſubjects, made no great difficulty to ſwallow oaths to the preſent government, though in them it was perjury. It is dangerous to withdraw the ſmalleſt peg in the moral edifice; for the whole will totter and tumble. Men creep on to vice by degrees. Perjury, in order to ſupport a friend, has become cuſtomary of late years; witneſs fictitious qualifications in the electors of parliament-men, which are made effectual by perjury: yet ſuch is the degeneracy of the preſent times, that no man is the worſe thought of upon that account. We muſt not flatter ourſelves that the poiſon will reach no farther; a man who boggles not at perjury to ſerve a friend, will in time become ſuch an adept, as to commit perjury in order to ruin a friend when he becomes an enemy.
a
Geneſis, chap. 26.
b
1 Samuel, xiv. 44.
c
Leviticus, chap. 4.
d
Book 3. of Antiquities.
a
l. 5. ad leg. Jul. Majeſt.
*
External ſhow made a great figure, when nothing was regarded but what is viſible. By acuteneſs of judgment, and refinement of taſte, the pleaſures of ſociety prevail, and forms and ceremonies are diſregarded. External ſhow, however, continues to ſtand its ground in ſeveral inſtances. It occaſions, in particular, many an ill-ſorted match: a young man is apt to be captivated with beauty or dreſs; a young woman with equipage, or a title.
a
See the firſt part of this ſketch, ſect. 2. at the end.
*
In the language even of Peru, there is not a word for expreſſing an abſtract idea, ſuch as time, endurance, ſpace, exiſtence, ſubſtance, matter, body. It is no leſs defective in expreſſing moral ideas, ſuch as virtue, juſtice, gratitude, liberty. The Yameos, a tribe on the river Oroonoko, deſcribed by Condamine, uſe the word poettarraroincouroac to expreſs the number three, and have no word for a greater number. The Braſilian language is nearly as barren.
*
What man can boaſt, that firm undaunted ſoul,
That hears, unmov'd, when thunder ſhakes the pole;
Nor ſhrinks with fear of an offended pow'r,
When lightnings flaſh, and ſtorms and tempeſts roar?
a
Lib. 5.
When dread convulſions rock'd the lab'ring earth,
And livid clouds firſt gave the thunder birth,
Inſtinctive fear within the human breaſt
The firſt ideas of a God impreſs'd.
a
A Greenland boat.
a
Geneſis xlii. 21. 22.
b
See Eſſays on Morality and Natural Religion, part 2. ſect. 3.
a
Book 2. ſketch 1.
a
Firſt ſketch of this third book, ſect. 1.
a
Part 2. ſect. 7.
*
All Greek writers, and thoſe in their neighbourhood, form the world out of a chaos. They had no ſuch exalted notion of a deity as to believe, that he could make the world out of nothing.
a
Odyſſey, book 8.
*
The Engliſh tranſlator of that tragedy, obſerves it to be remarkable in the Grecian creed, that the gods puniſh the crimes of men upon their innocent poſterity.
*
Nor let a god in perſon ſtand diſplay'd,
Unleſs the labouring plot deſerve his aid.
FRANCIS.
a
Odyſſey, book 8.
b
Book 8.
c
Book 13.
d
Book 18.
e
Odyſſey, book 20.
a
Lib. 1. De natura deorum.
*
The form of the evocatio follows. ‘"Tuo ductu, inquit, Pythie Apollo, tuoque numine inſtinctus, pergo ad delendam urbem Veios: tibique hinc decimam partem praedae voveo. Te ſimul, Juno Regina, quae nunc Veios colis, precor, ut nos victores in noſtram tuamque mox futuram urbem ſequare: ubi te, dignum amplitudine tua, templum accipiat."’ Titus Livius, lib. 5. cap. 21.—[In Engliſh thus: ‘"Under thy guidance and divine inſpiration, O Pythian Apollo, I march to the deſtruction of Veii; and to thy ſhrine I devote a tenth of the plunder. Imperial Juno, guardian of Veii, deign to proſper our victorious arms, and a temple ſhall be erected to thy honour, ſuitable to the greatneſs and majeſty of thy name."]’—But it appears from Macrobius, that they uſed a form of evocation even when the name of the tutelar deity was unknown to them. ‘"Si deus, ſi dea eſt, cui populus civitaſque Carthaginienſis eſt in tutela, teque maxime ille qui urbis hujus populique tutelam recipiſti, precor, venerorque, veniamque a vobis peto, ut vos populum civitatemque Carthaginienſem deſeratis, loca, templa, ſacra, urbemque eorum relinquiatis, abſque his abeatis, eique populo, civitatique metum, formidinem, oblivionem injiciatis, proditique Romam ad me meoſque veneatis, noſtraque vobis loca, templa, ſacra, urbs, acceptior probatiorque ſit, mihique populoque Romano militibuſque meis praepoſiti ſitis, ut ſciamus intelligamuſque. Si ita feceritis, voveo vobis templa ludoſque facturum."’ Saturnal. lib. 3. cap. 9.—[In Engliſh thus: ‘"That divinity, whether god or goddeſs, who is the guardian of the ſtate of Carthage, that divinity I invoke, I pray and ſupplicate, that he will deſert that perfidious people. Honour not with thy preſence their temples, their ceremonies, nor their city, abandon them to all their fears, leave them to infamy and oblivion. Fly hence to Rome, where, in my country, and among my fellow-citizens, thou ſhalt have nobler temples, and more acceptable ſacrifices; thou ſhalt be the tutelar deity of this army, and of the Roman ſtate. On this condition, I here vow to erect temples and inſtitute games to thine honour."]’
*
All things in the univerſe are evidently of a piece. Every thing is adjuſted to every thing; one deſign prevails through the whole: and this uniformity leads the mind to acknowledge one author; becauſe the conception of different authors without diſtinction of attributes or operations, ſerves only to perplex the imagination, without beſtowing any ſatisfaction on the underſtanding. Natural hiſtory of Religion, by David Hume, Eſquire.
*
‘Regnatur omnium Deus, caetera ſubjecta atque parentia;’ Tacitus de moribus Germanorum, cap. 39. [In Engliſh thus: ‘"One God the ruler of all; the reſt inferior and ſubordinate."]’
*
Pliny ſeems to reliſh the doctrine of unity in the Deity; but is at a loſs about forming any juſt conception of him, ſometimes conſidering the world to be our only deity, ſometimes the ſun.
*
" The rage of Vulcan, and the martial maid,
" Purſued old Troy; but Phoebus' love repay'd.
" Aeneas ſafe, defy'd great Juno's hate,
" For Venus guards her ſavour'd offspring's fate:
" In vain Ulyſſes Neptune's wrath aſſails,
" O'er winds and waves Minerva's power prevails."
a
Ovid. Triſt. lib. 1. eleg. 2.
*
‘"Be aſſured of this, that while ye preſerve your reverence for juſtice, ye will enjoy all the bleſſings which are eſtimable among mankind. If ye refuſe to obey her dictates, and your morals become corrupted, God himſelf will abandon you, and take the part of your enemies. For although the benevolence of that power is not partially confined to tribe or people, yet in the eye of his juſtice all men are not equally the objects of his approbation."’
a
See the 10th and 11th chapters of the Acts of the Apoſtles.
b
Acts of the Apoſtles, x. 34.
c
Acts of the Apoſtles, chap. 13.
a
Hiſtoria Gothica, lib. 1.
a
L'Eſprit des loix, lib. 12. ch. 5.
*
Having gained the battle of St Quintin on the feſtival of St Laurence, Philip reckoned himſelf obliged to the ſaint for this victory, no leſs than to God Almighty; and accordingly, he not only built the monaſtery he had vowed, but alſo a church for the ſaint and a palace for himſelf, all under one roof: and what is not a little ludicrous, the edifice is built in reſemblance of a gridiron, which, according to the legend, was the inſtrument of Laurence's martyrdom.
*
It is no wonder that the Romans were ſuperſtitiouſly addicted to omens and auguries: like mere ſavages, they put no value upon any ſcience but that of war; and, for that reaſon, they baniſhed all philoſophers, as uſeleſs members of ſociety. Thus, that nation, ſo fierce and ſo great in war, ſurrendered themſelves blindly to ſuperſtition, and became ſlaves to imaginary evils. Even their graveſt hiſtorians were deeply tainted with that diſeaſe.
*
‘"It is peculiar to that people, to deduce omens and preſages from horſes. Theſe animals are maintained at the public expence, in groves and foreſts, and are not allowed to be polluted with any work for the uſe of man; but being yoked in the ſacred chariot, the prieſt, and the king, or chief of the ſtate, attend them, and carefully obſerve their neighings. The greateſt faith is given to this method of augury, both among the vulgar and the nobles."’
a
Tacitus, De moribus Germanorum, cap. 10.
*
Is it not mortifying to human pride, that a great philoſopher [Bacon] ſhould think like the vulgar upon this ſubject? Mentioning great rejoicings in London upon the daughter of Henry VII. of England being married to James IV. of Scotland, he adds, ‘"not from any affection to the Scots, but from a ſecret inſtinct and inſpiration of the advantages that would accrue from the match."’
a
Gothica Hiſtoria, lib. 1.
*
‘"The golden cup full of abominations."’
a
St Matthew, xxvi. 26. &c.
*
A traveller deſcribing the Virgin Mary's houſe at Loretto, has the following reflection. ‘"When there are ſo many ſaints endued with ſuch miraculous powers, ſo many relics, and ſo many impregnated wells, each of them able to cure the moſt dangerous diſeaſes; one would wonder, that phyſicians could live there, or others die. But people die here as elſewhere; and even churchmen, who preach upon the miracles wrought by relics, grow ſick and die like other men."’ It is one thing to believe, it is another thing to fancy that we believe. In the year 1666 a Jew named Sabatai Levi appeared at Smyrna, pretending to be the true Meſſiah, and was acknowledged to be ſuch by many. The Grand Signior, for proof of his miſſion, inſiſted for a miracle; propoſing that he ſhould preſent himſelf as a mark to be ſhot at, and promiſing to believe that he was the Meſſiah, if he remained unwounded. Sabatai, declining the trial, turned Mahometan to ſave his life. But obſerve the blindneſs of ſuperſtition: though Sabatai was ſeen every day walking the ſtreets of Conſtantinople in the Turkiſh habit, the Jews inſiſted that the true Sabatai was taken up into heaven, leaving only behind him his ſhadow; and probably they moſt piouſly fancied that they believed ſo.
*
Biſhop Burnet ſeems doubtful whether this creed was compoſed by Athanaſius; though his doubts, in my apprehenſion, are ſcarce ſufficient to weigh againſt the unanimous opinion of the Chriſtian church.
a
Elements of Criticiſm, vol. 1. p. 180. edit. 5.
*
Arnobius (Adverſus gentes, lib. 1.) accounts rationally for the worſhip we pay to the Deity: ‘"Huic omnes ex more proſternimur, hunc collatis precibus adoramus, ab hoc juſta, et honeſta, et auditu ejus condigna, depoſcimus. Non quo ipſe deſideret ſupplices nos eſſe, aut amet ſubſterni tot millium venerationem videre. Utilitas haec noſtra eſt, et commodi noſtri rationem ſpectans. Nam quia proni ad culpas, et ad libidinis varios appetitus, vitio ſumus infirmitatis ingenitae, patitur ſe ſemper noſtris cogitationibus concipi: ut dum illum oramus, et mereri ejus contendimus munera, accipiamus innocentiae voluntatem, et ab omni nos labe delictorum omnium amputatione purgemus."’—[In Engliſh thus: ‘"It is our cuſtom to proſtrate ourſelves before him; and we aſk of him ſuch gifts only as are conſiſtent with juſtice and with honour, and ſuitable to the character of the Being whom we adore. Not that he receives pleaſure or ſatisfaction from the humble veneration of thouſands of his creatures. From this we ourſelves derive benefit and advantage; for being the ſlaves of appetite, and prone to err from the weakneſs of our nature, when we addreſs ourſelves to God in prayer, and ſtudy by our actions to merit his approbation, we gain at leaſt the wiſh, and the inclination, to be virtuous."]’
a
Tract 1.
b
Chap. 6.
*
There is no mention in ancient authors of fiſh being offered to the gods in ſacrifice. The reaſon I take to be, that the moſt ſavoury food of man was reckoned the moſt agreeable to their gods; that ſavages never thought of fiſh till land-animals became ſcarce; and that the matter as well as form of ſacrifices were eſtabliſhed in practice, long before men had recourſe to fiſh for food.
a
Pſalm 50.
b
Pſalm 51.
c
Hoſea vi. 6.
*
Agathias urges a different reaſon againſt ſacrifices. ‘"Ego nullam naturam eſſe exiſtimo, cui voluptati ſint ſoedata ſanguine altaria, et animantium lanienae. Quod ſi qua tamen eſt cui iſta ſint cordi, non ea mitis et benigna eſt aliqua, ſed fera ac rabida, qualem pavorem poetae fingunt, et Metum, et Bellonam, et Malam Fortunam, et Diſcordiam, quam indomitam appellant."’—[In Engliſh thus: ‘"I cannot conceive, that there ſhould exiſt a ſuperior being, who takes delight in the ſacrifice of animals, or in altars ſtained with blood. If ſuch there be, his nature is not benevolent, but barbarous and cruel. Such indeed were the gods whom the poets have created: ſuch were Fear and Terror, the goddeſs of War, of Evil Fortune, and of Diſcord."]’—Arnobius batters down bloody ſacrifices with a very curious argument. ‘"Ecce ſi bos aliquis, aut quodlibet ex his animal, quod ad placandas caeditur mitigandaſque ad numinum furias, vocem hominis ſumat, eloquaturque his verbis: Ergone, O Jupiter, aut quis alius dues es, humanum eſt iſtud et rectum, aut aequitatis alicujus in aeſtimatione ponendum, ut cum alius peccaverit, ego occidar, et de me ſanguine fieri tibi patiaris ſatis, qui nunquam te laeſerim, nunquam ſciens aut neſciens, tuum numen majeſtatemque violarim, animal, ut ſcis, mutum, naturae meae ſimplicitatem ſequens, nec multiformium morum varietatibus lubricum?"’—[In Engliſh thus: ‘"What if the ox, while he is led out to ſlaughter to appeaſe the fancied wrath of an offended deity, ſhould aſſume the human voice, and in theſe words aſtoniſh his conductors: Are theſe, O merciful God, are theſe the dictates of humanity, or of juſtice, that for the crime of another I ſhould forfeit my life. I have never by my will offended thee, and, dumb as I am, and uninformed by reaſon, my actions, according to the ſimplicity of my nature, cannot have given thee diſpleaſure, who haſt made me as I am."]’—If this argument were ſolid, it would be equally concluſive againſt animal food.
*
Frequent mention is made of ſuch ſtones in the poems of Oſſian. ‘"But remember, my ſon, to place this ſword, this bow, and this horn, within that dark and narrow houſe marked with one gray ſtone."’ p. 55. ‘"Whoſe ſame is in that dark-green tomb? Four ſtones with their heads of moſs ſtand there, and mark the narrow houſe of death."’ p. 67. ‘"Let thy bards mourn thoſe who fell. Let Erin give the ſons of Lochlin to earth, and raiſe the moſſy ſtones of their fame; that the children of the north hereafter may behold the place where their fathers fought."’ p. 78. ‘"Earth here incloſes the lovelieſt pair on the hill: graſs grows between the ſtones of the tomb."’ p. 208. In the ſame poems we find ſtones made inſtruments of worſhip. The ſpirit of Loda is introduced threatening Fingal: ‘"Fly to thy land, replied the form: receive the wind and fly. The blaſts are in the hollow of my hand: the courſe of the ſtorm is mine. The King of Sora is my ſon: he bends at the ſtone of my power."’ p. 200.
*
‘"The deficiencies of Polycletus were made up in Phidias and Alcamenes. Phidias is reckoned to have had more ſkill in forming the ſtatues of gods than of men. In works of ivory he was unrivalled, although there had been no other proofs of his excellence than the ſtatue of Minerva at Athens, and the Jupiter Olympius in Elis. Its beauty ſeems to have added to the received religion; the majeſtic ſtatue reſembling ſo much the god himſelf."’
a
Tacitus de moribus Germanorum, cap. 9.
a
Chap. 44.
a
Exod. xxxii. 7.
b
Deuteronomy, xvi. 22.
a
1 Kings, xii. 28.
b
1 Kings, xiv. 23.
c
2 Kings, x. 25.
d
2 Kings, x. 29.
e
Daniel, chap. 3.
a
Oſſian.
*
‘"As approaching nearer to heaven, the prayers of mortals are there more diſtinctly heard."’
a
Natural Hiſtory of Religion.
a
Matthew, xxii. 36.
a
Matthew, xxv. 34.
b
James, i. 27.
*
‘"Shall I offer to God for a ſacrifice thoſe creatures which his bounty has given me for my uſe? it were ingratitude to throw back the gift upon the giver. The moſt acceptable ſacrifice is an upright mind, an untainted conſcience, and an honeſt heart. The actions of the innocent aſcend to God in prayer; the obſervance of juſtice is more grateful than incenſe; the man who is ſincere in his dealings, ſecures the favour of his Creator; and the delivery of a fellow-creature from danger or deſtruction, is dearer in the eyes of the Almighty than the ſacrifice of blood."’
c
Minucius Foelix.
*
The great weight that was laid upon orthodoxy, appears from a triumphal arch erected over the tomb of Charlemagne, upon which was the following inſcription: ‘"Here lies the body of Charles, a great and orthodox emperor."’
a
Elements of Criticiſm, vol. 2. p. 493. edit. 5.
a
Lib. 18. cap. 5.
a
Hiſtorical law tracts, tract 1.
*
‘"There is nothing to be obtained from the court of Rome, but by the force of money: even the ceremony of conſecration, and the gifts of the Holy Ghoſt, are ſold; and the remiſſion of ſins is beſtowed only on thoſe who can pay for it."’
a
Natural Hiſtory of Religion, by David Hume, Eſquire.
*
‘"And there was a woman which had a ſpirit of infirmity eighteen years, and was bowed together. And Jeſus laid his hands on her: and immediately ſhe was made ſtraight, and glorified God. And the ruler of the ſynagogue with indignation ſaid unto the people, There are ſix days in which men ought to work: in them therefore come and be healed, and not on the ſabbath-day. The Lord then ſaid, Thou hypocrite, doth not each one of you on the ſabbath looſe his ox or his aſs from the ſtall, and lead him away to watering? and ought not this woman, whom Satan hath bound, be looſed from this bond on the ſabbath-day?"’ Luke, xiii. 11.
An ingenious writer pleaſantly obſerves, ‘"That a croifade was the South-ſea project of former times: by the latter, men hoped to gain riches without induſtry: by the former, they hoped to gain heaven without repentance. amendment of life, or ſanctity of manners."’ Sir David Dalrymple, a judge in the court of ſeſſion.
a
Matthew, xxiii. 23.
a
Vol. 18.
*
Chriſtians, occupied too much with external forms, have corrupted ſeveral of the fine arts. They have injured architecture, by erecting magnificent churches in the ugly form of a croſs. And they have injured painting, by withdrawing the beſt hands from proper ſubjects, and employing them on the legendary martyrdom of pretended ſaints, and other ſuch diſagreeable ſtories.
*
A groſs is the third part of a ducat.
a
Natural Hiſtory of Religion.
*
An old woman walking with others to a ſacrament, was obſerved to pick out the worſt bits of the road: ‘"I never can do enough,"’ ſaid ſhe, ‘"for ſweet Jeſus."’
*
A ſect of Chriſtians, ſtyled Flagellantes, held, that flagellation is of equal virtue with baptiſm and the other ſacraments; that it will procure forgiveneſs of ſin; that the old law of Chriſt is to be aboliſhed, and a new law ſubſtituted; enjoining the baptiſm of blood to be adminiſtered by whipping.
a
Iſaiah, lviii. 4. &c.
*
An ingenious writer, mentioned above, makes the following obſervation. ‘"The celibacy of eccleſiaſtics was originally introduced by ſome ſuperſtitious refinements on the law of God and nature. Could men have been kept alive without eating or drinking, as well as without marriage, the ſame refinements would have prohibited eccleſiaſtics from eating and drinking, and thereby have elevated them ſo much nearer to the ſtate of angels. In proceſs of time, this fanatical interdiction became an inſtrument of worldly wiſdom: and thus, as frequently happens, what weak men began, politicians completed."’ Sir David Dalrymple.
a
Morinus.
*
‘"Let there be no Bacchanalian ceremonies performed in the city, nor within Italy. If there be any perſon who reckons it a matter of conſcience to perform theſe rites, and that he ought not to omit them, let him ſtate his opinion to the citypraetor, who ſhall thereupon conſult the ſenate. If liberty be granted him by the ſenate when no fewer than a hundred ſenators are preſent, let him perform the ſacrifice, but privately, in preſence of no greater number than five perſons. Let there be no public fund for them, nor any who ſhall preſide as prieſt or maſter of the rites."’
*
Monſieur de Tavannes, afterward Mareſchal of France, was a great partiſan of the Queen-mother, and ſo active in the maſſacre, that with his own hand he murdered no fewer than ſeventeen Huguenots. Having on death-bed made a full confeſſion of his ſins, ‘"What,"’ ſaid the prieſt, ‘"not a word of St. Bartholomew? Of St. Bartholomew!"’ anſwered the penitent; ‘"the ſervice I did that memorable day to God and the church, is alone a ſufficient atonement for all my tranſgreſſions."’
*
In the eleventh and twelfth centuries, many of the clergy dealt in merchandiſe; and, being free of taxes, engroſſed all. In the Netherlands particularly, there was a great cry, that monaſteries were converted into ſhops and ware-houſes, and the manſions of ſecular prieſts into tap-houſes and inns.
a
Lib. 1. Adverſus Gentes.
*
‘"Forgive, Almighty Power, the perſecutors of thy ſervants; and, in the peculiar benevolence of thy nature, pardon thoſe men whoſe unhappineſs it is to be ſtrangers to thy name and worſhip. Ignorant as they are of thee, we cannot wonder at the impiety of their actions."’
a
Epiſtle of Paul to the Romans, chap. 14.
b
Luke, ix. 54.
*
Toleration in religion, though obvious to common underſtanding, was not however the production of reaſon, but of commerce. The advantage of toleration for promoting commerce, was diſcovered long before by the Portugueſe. They were too zealous Catholics to venture ſo bold a meaſure in Portugal; but it was permitted in Goa, and the inquiſition in that town was confined to Roman Catholics.
a
Elements of Criticiſm, vol. 2. p. 493. edit. 5.
a
Book 1. ſketch 3.
a
Hiſtorical law tracts, tract 3.
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