BEING now come to the Conclusion of my Work; after having defended the Cause of Criticks in general, and employ'd what Strength I had in that Science upon our adventurous Author in particular; I may, according to Equity, and with the better grace, attempt a line or two, in defense of that Freedom of Thought which our Author has us'd, particularly in one of the Personages of his last Dialogue-Treatise.
There is good reason to suppose, that however equally fram'd, or near alike, the Race of Mankind may appear in other respects, they are not always equal Thinkers, or of a like Ability in the management of this natural Talent which we call Thought. The Race, on this account, may therefore justly be distinguish'd, as they often are, by the Appellation of the Thinking, and the Unthinking sort. The mere Unthinking are such as have not yet arriv'd to that happy Thought, by which they shou'd observe, How necessary Thinking is, and how fatal the want of it must prove to 'em.
The Thinking part of Mankind, on the other side, having discover'd the Assiduity and Industry requisite to right-Thinking, and being already commenc'd Thinkers upon this Foundation; are, in the progress of the Affair, convinc'd of the necessity of thinking to good purpose, and carrying the Work to a thorow Issue. They know that if they refrain or stop once, upon this Road, they had done as well never to have set out. They are not so supine as to be with-held by mere Laziness; when nothing lies in the way to interrupt the free Course and Progress of their Thought.
Some Obstacles, 'tis true, may, on this occasion, be pretended. Specters may come a-cross; and Shadows of Reason rise up against Reason it-self. But if Men have once heartily espous'd the reasoning or thinking Habit; they will not easily be induc'd to lay the Practice down; they will not at an instant be arrested, or made to stand, and yield themselves, when they come to such a certain Boundary, Land-Mark, Post, or Pillar, erected here or there (for what reason may probably be guess'd) with the Inscription of a Ne plus ultrà.
'Tis not, indeed, any Authority on Earth, as we are well assur'd, can stop us on this Road, unless we please to make the Arrest, or Restriction, of our own accord. 'Tis our own Thought which must restrain our Thinking. And whether the restraining Thought be just, how shall we ever judge, without examining it freely, and out of all constraint? How shall we be sure that we have justly quitted Reason, as too high and dangerous, too aspiring or presumptive; if thro' Fear of any kind, or submitting to mere Command, we quit our very examining Thought, and in the moment stop short, so as to put an end to further Thinking on the matter? Is there much difference between this Case, and that of the obedient Beasts of Burden, who stop precisely at their appointed Inn, or at whatever Point the Charioteer, or Governour of the Reins, thinks fit to give the signal for a Halt?
I cannot but from hence conclude, That of all Species of Creatures said commonly to have Brains; the most insipid, wretched and preposterous are those, whom in just Propriety of Speech, we call Half-thinkers.
I have often known Pretenders to Wit break out into admiration, on the sight of some raw, heedless, unthinking Gentleman; declaring on this occasion, That they esteem'd it the happiest Case in the World, Never to think, or trouble one's Head with Study or Consideration.
This I have always look'd upon as one of the highest Airs of Distinction, which the self-admiring Wits are us'd to give them-selves, in publick Company. Now the Echo or Antiphony which these elegant Exclaimers hope, by this Reflection, to draw necessarily from their Audience, is, That they themselves are over-fraighted with this Merchandize of Thought; and have not only enough for Ballast, but such a Cargo over and above, as is enough to sink 'em by its Weight.
I am apt however to imagine of these Gentlemen, That it was never their over-thinking which oppress'd them; and that if their Thought had ever really become oppressive to 'em, they might thank themselves, for having under-thought, or reason'd short, so as to rest satisfy'd with a very superficial Search into Matters of the first and highest Importance.
If, for example, they over-look'd the chief Enjoyments of Life, which are founded in Honesty and a good Mind; if they presum'd mere Life to be fully worth what its tenacious Lovers are pleas'd to rate it at; if they thought publick Distinction, Fame, Power, an Estate, or Title, to be of the same value as is vulgarly conceiv'd, or as they concluded, on a first Thought, without further Scepticism or After-deliberation; 'tis no wonder, if being in time become such mature Dogmatists, and well-practis'd Dealers in the Affairs of what they call a Settlement or Fortune, they are so hardly put to it, to find ease or rest within themselves.
These are the deeply-loaded and over-pensive Gentlemen, who esteeming it the truest Wit to pursue what they call their Interest, wonder to find they are still as little at ease when they have succeeded, as when they first attempted to advance.
There can never be less Self-enjoyment than in these suppos'd wise Characters, these selfish Computers of Happiness and private Good; whose Pursuits of Interest, whether for this World or another, are attended with the same steddy Vein of cunning and low Thought, sordid Deliberations, perverse and crooked Fancys, ill Dispositions, and false Relishes of Life and Manners. The most negligent undesigning thoughtless Rake has not only more of Sociableness, Ease, Tranquillity, and Freedom from worldly Cares, but in reality more of Worth, Virtue, and Merit, than such grave Plodders, and thoughtful Gentlemen as these.
If it happens, therefore, that these graver, more circumspect, and deeply interested Gentlemen, have, for their Soul's sake, and thro' a careful Provision for Hereafter, engag'd in certain Speculations of Religion; their Taste of Virtue, and Relish of Life is not the more improv'd, on this account. The Thoughts they have on these new Subjects of Divinity are so biass'd, and perplex'd, by those Half-Thoughts and raw Imaginations of Interest, and worldly Affairs; that they are still disabled in the rational Pursuit of Happiness and Good: And being necessitated thus to remain Short-Thinkers, they have the Power to go no further than they are led by those to whom, under such Disturbances and Perplexitys, they apply themselves for Cure and Comfort.
IT HAS been the main Scope and principal End of these Volumes, To assert the Reality of a Beauty and Charm in moral as well as natural Subjects; and to demonstrate the Reasonableness of a proportionate Taste, and determinate Choice, in Life and Manners.
The Standard of this kind, and the noted Character of Moral Truth appear so firmly establish'd in Nature it-self, and so widely display'd thro' the intelligent World, that there is no Genius, Mind, or thinking Principle, which (if I may say so) is not really conscious in the case. Even the most refractory and obstinate Understandings are by certain Reprises or Returns of Thought, on every occasion, convinc'd of this Existence, and necessitated, in common with others, to acknowledg the actual Right and Wrong.
'Tis evident that whensoever the Mind, influenc'd by Passion or Humour, consents to any Action, Measure, or Rule of Life, contrary to this governing Standard and primary Measure of Intelligence, it can only be thro' a weak Thought, a Scantiness of Judgment, and a Defect in the application of that unavoidable Impression and first natural Rule of Honesty and Worth; against which, whatever is advanc'd, will be of no other moment than to render a Life distracted, incoherent, full of Irresolution, Repentance, and Self-disapprobation.
Thus every Immorality and Enormity of Life can only happen from a partial and narrow View of Happiness and Good. Whatever takes from the Largeness or Freedom of Thought, must of necessity detract from that first Relish, or Taste, on which Virtue and Worth depend.
For instance, when the Eye or Appetite is eagerly fix'd on Treasure, and the money'd Bliss of Bags and Coffers; 'tis plain there is a kind of Fascination in the case. The Sight is instantly diverted from all other Views of Excellence or Worth. And here, even the Vulgar, as well as the more liberal part of Mankind, discover the contracted Genius, and acknowledg the Narrowness of such a Mind.
In Luxury and Intemperance we easily apprehend how far Thought is oppress'd, and the Mind debar'd from just Reflection, and from the free Examination and Censure of its own Opinions or Maxims, on which the Conduct of a Life is form'd.
Even in that complicated Good of vulgar kind, which we commonly call Interest, in which we comprehend both Pleasure, Riches, Power, and other exterior Advantages; we may discern how a fascinated Sight contracts a Genius, and by shortning the View even of that very Interest which it seeks, betrays the Knave, and necessitates the ablest and wittiest Proselyte of the kind, to expose himself on every Emergency and sudden Turn.
But above all other enslaving Vices, and Restrainers of Reason and just Thought, the most evidently ruinous and fatal to the Understanding is that of Superstition,Bigotry, and vulgar Enthusiasm. This Passion, not contented like other Vices to deceive, and tacitly supplant our Reason, professes open War, holds up the intended Chains and Fetters, and declares its Resolution to enslave.
The artificial Managers of this human Frailty declaim against Free-Thought, and Latitude of Understanding. To go beyond those Bounds of thinking which they have prescrib'd, is by them declar'd a Sacrilege. To them, Freedom of Mind, a Mastery of Sense, and a Liberty in Thought and Action, imply Debauch, Corruption, and Depravity.
In consequence of their moral Maxims, and political Establishments, they can indeed advance no better Notion of human Happiness and Enjoyment, than that which is in every respect the most opposite to Liberty. 'Tis to them doubtless that we owe the Opprobriousness and Abuse of those naturally honest Appellations of Free-Livers, Free-Thinkers, Latitudinarians, or whatever other Character implies a Largeness of Mind, and generous Use of Understanding. Fain wou'd they confound Licentiousness in Morals, with Liberty in Thought and Action; and make the Libertine, who has the least Mastery of himself, resemble his direct Opposite. For such indeed is the Man of resolute Purpose and immovable Adherence to Reason, against every thing which Passion, Prepossession, Craft, or Fashion can advance in favour of ought else. But here, it seems, the Grievance lies. 'Tis thought dangerous for us to be over-rational, or too much Masters of our-selves, in what we draw, by just Conclusions, from Reason only. Seldom therefore do these Expositors fail of bringing the Thought of Liberty into disgrace. Even at the expence of Virtue, and of that very Idea of Goodness on which they build the Mysterys of their profitable Science, they derogate from Morals, and reverse all true Philosophy; they refine on Selfishness, and explode Generosity; promote a slavish Obedience in the room of voluntary Duty, and free Service; exalt blind Ignorance for Devotion, recommend low Thought, decry Reason, extol[1] Voluptuousness, Wilfulness, Vindicativeness, Arbitrariness, Vain-Glory; and even[2] deify those weak Passions which are the Disgrace rather than Ornament of human Nature.
But so far is it from the Nature of[3] Liberty to indulge such Passions as these, that whoever acts at any time under the power of any single-one, may be said to have already provided for himself an absolute Master. And he who lives under the power of a whole Race, (since 'tis scarce possible to obey one without the other) must of necessity undergo the worst of Servitudes, under the most capricious and domineering Lords.
That this is no Paradox, even the Writers for Entertainment can inform us; however others may moralize, who discourse or write, as they pretend, for Profit and Instruction. The Poets even of the wanton sort, give ample Testimony of this Slavery and Wretchedness of Vice. They may extol Voluptuousness to the Skies, and point their Wit as sharply as they are able against a virtuous State. But when they come afterwards to pay the necessary Tribute to their commanding Pleasures; we hear their pathetick Moans, and find the inward Discord and Calamity of their Lives. Their Example is the best of Precepts; since they conceal nothing, are sincere, and speak their Passion out aloud. And 'tis in this that the very worst of Poets may justly be prefer'd to the generality of modern Philosophers, or other formal Writers of a yet more specious name. The Muses Pupils never fail to express their Passions, and write just as they feel. 'Tis not, indeed, in their nature to do otherwise; whilst they indulge their Vein, and are under the power of that natural Enthusiasm which leads 'em to what is highest in their Performance. They follow Nature. They move chiefly as she moves in 'em; without thought of disguising her free Motions, and genuine Operations, for the sake of any Scheme or Hypothesis, which they have form'd at leisure, and in particular narrow Views. On this account, tho at one time they quarrel perhaps with Virtue, for restraining 'em in their forbidden Loves, they can at another time make her sufficient amends; when with indignation they complain, That Merit is neglected, and their[4] worthless Rival prefer'd before them.
[5]To think that the honest heart of a poor man should have no weight against gold!
And thus even in common Elegiack, in Song, Ode, or Epigram, consecrated to Pleasure it-self, we may often read the dolorous Confession in behalf of Virtue, and see, at the bottom, how the Case stands:
For then and then only are the words of truth drawn from the bottom of a man's heart.[6]
The airy Poets, in these Fits, can, as freely as the Tragedian, condole with Virtue, and bemoan the case of suffering Merit;
Th' Oppressor's Wrong, the proud Man's Contumely,
The Insolence of Office, and the Spurns
That patient Merit of th' Unworthy takes.
The Poetick Chiefs may give what reason they think fit for their Humour of representing our mad Appetites (especially that of Love ) under the shape of Urchins and wanton Boys, scarce out of their State of Infancy. The original Design, and Moral of this Fiction, I am persuaded, was to shew us, how little there was of great and heroick in the Government of these Pretenders, how truly weak and childish they were in themselves, and how much lower than mere Children we then became, when we submitted our-selves to their blind Tutorage. There was no fear left in this Fiction the boyish Nature shou'd be misconstru'd as innocent and gentle. The Storms of Passion, so well known in every kind, kept the tyrannick Quality of this wanton Race sufficiently in view. Nor cou'd the poetical Description fail to bring to mind their mischievous and malignant Play. But when the Image of imperious Threatning, and absolute Command, was join'd to that of Ignorance, Puerility, and Folly; the Notion was compleated, of that wretched slavish State, which modern Libertines, in conjunction with some of a graver Character, admire, and represent, as the most eligible of any.—Happy Condition!
(says one) Happy Life, that of the indulg'd Passions; might we pursue it!—Miserable Condition! Miserable Life, that of Reason and Virtue, which we are[7] bid pursue!
'Tis the same, it seems, with Men, in Morals, as in Politicks. When they have been unhappily born and bred to Slavery, they are so far from being sensible of their slavish Course of Life, or of that ill Usage, Indignity and Misery they sustain; that they even admire their own Condition: and being us'd to think short, and carry their Views no further than those Bounds which were early prescrib'd to 'em; they look upon Tyranny as a natural Case, and think Mankind in a sort of dangerous and degenerate State, when under the power of Laws, and in the possession of a free Government.
We may by these Reflections come easily to apprehend What Men they were who first brought Reason and Free-Thought under disgrace, and made the noblest of Characters, that of a Free-Thinker, to become invidious. 'Tis no wonder if the same Interpreters wou'd have those also to be esteem'd free in their Lives, and Masters of good Living, who are the least Masters of themselves, and the most impotent in Passion and Humour, of all their Fellow-Creatures. But far be it, and far surely will it ever be, from any worthy Genius, to be consenting to such a treacherous Language, and Abuse of Words. For my own part, I thorowly confide in the good Powers of Reason, That Liberty and Freedom shall never, by any Artifice or Delusion, be made to pass with me as frightful Sounds, or as reproachful, or invidious, in any sense.
I can no more allow that to be Free-living, where unlimited Passion, and unexamin'd Fancy govern, than I can allow that to be a Free Government, where the mere People govern, and not the Laws. For no People in a Civil State can possibly be free, when they are otherwise govern'd than by such Laws as they themselves have constituted, or to which they have freely given consent. Now to be releas'd from these, so as to govern themselves by each Day's Will or Fancy, and to vary on every Turn the Rule and Measure of Government, without respect to any antient Constitutions or Establishments, or to the stated and fix'd Rules of Equity and Justice; is as certain Slavery, as it is Violence, Distraction, and Misery; such as in the Issue must prove the Establishment of an irretrievable State of Tyranny, and absolute Dominion.
In the Determinations of Life, and in the Choice and Government of Actions, he alone is free who has within himself no Hindrance, or Controul, in acting what he himself, by his best Judgment, and most deliberate Choice, approves. Cou'd Vice agree possibly with it-self; or cou'd the vicious any way reconcile the various Judgments of their inward Counsellors; they might with Justice perhaps assert their Liberty and Independency. But whilst they are necessitated to follow least, what, in their sedate hours, they most approve; whilst they are passively assign'd, and made over from one Possessor to[8] another, in contrary Extremes, and to different Ends and Purposes, of which they are them-selves wholly ignorant; 'tis evident, That the more they turn[9] their Eyes (as many times they are oblig'd) towards Virtue and a free Life, the more they must confess their Misery and Subjection. They discern their own Captivity, but not with Force and Resolution sufficient to redeem themselves, and become their own. Such is the real Tragick State, as the old[10] Tragedian represents it:
[11]I see and I esteem the better course, I follow the worse.
And thus the highest Spirits, and most refractory Wills, contribute to the lowest Servitude and most submissive State. Reason and Virtue alone can bestow Liberty. Vice is unworthy, and unhappy, on this account only, That it is slavish and debasing.
THUS HAVE we pleaded the Cause of Liberty in general; and vindicated, withal, our Author's particular Freedom, in taking the Person of a Sceptick, as he has done in this[12] last Treatise, on which we have so largely paraphras'd. We may now perhaps, in compliance with general Cusstom, justly presume to add something in defense of the same kind of Freedom we our-selves have assum'd in these latter Miscellaneous Comments; since it wou'd doubtless be very unreasonable and unjust, for those who had so freely play'd the Critick, to expect any thing less than the same free Treatment, and thorow Criticism in return.
As for the Style or Language us'd in these Comments; 'tis very different, we find; and varys in proportion with the Author commented, and with the different Characters and Persons frequently introduc'd in the original Treatises. So that there will undoubtedly be Scope sufficient for Censure and Correction.
As for the Observations on Antiquity; we have in most Passages, except the very common and obvious, produc'd our Vouchers and Authoritys in our own behalf. What may be thought of our Judgment or Sense in the Application of these Authoritys, and in the Deductions and Reasonings we have form'd from such learned Topicks, must be submitted to the Opinion of the Wise and Learned.
In Morals, of which the very Force lies in a love of Discipline, and in a willingness to redress and rectify false Thought, and erring Views; we cannot but patiently wait Redress and amicable Censure from the sole competent Judges, the Wise and Good; whose Interest it has been our whole Endeavour to advance.
The only Subject on which we are perfectly secure, and without fear of any just Censure or Reproach, is that of Faith, and Orthodox Belief. For in the first place, it will appear, that thro' a profound Respect, and religious Veneration, we have forborn so much as to name any of the sacred and solemn Mysterys of[13] Revelation. And, in the next place, as we can with confidence declare, that we have never in any Writing, publick or private, attempted such high Researches, nor have ever in Practice acquitted our-selves otherwise than as just Conformists to the lawful Church; so we may, in a proper Sense, be said faithfully and dutifully to embrace those holy Mysterys, even in their minutest Particulars, and without the least Exception on account of their amazing Depth. And tho we are sensible that it wou'd be no small hardship to deprive others of a liberty of examining and searching, with due Modesty and Submission, into the nature of those Subjects; yet as for our-selves, who have not the least scruple whatsoever, we pray not any such Grace or Favour in our behalf: being fully assur'd of our own steddy Orthodoxy, Resignation, and intire Submission to the truly Christian and Catholick Doctrines of our Holy Church, as by Law establish'd.
'Tis true, indeed, that as to[14] Critical Learning, and the Examination of Originals, Texts, Glosses, various Readings, Styles, Compositions, Manuscripts, Compilements, Editions, Publications, and other Circumstances, such as are common to the Sacred Books with all other Writings and Literature; this we have confidently asserted to be a just and lawful Study. We have even represented this Species of Criticism as necessary to the Preservation and Purity of Scripture; that Sacred Scripture, which has been so miraculously preserv'd in its successive Copys and Transcriptions, under the Eye (as we must needs suppose) of holy and learned Criticks, thro' so many dark Ages of Christianity, to these latter Times; in which Learning has been happily reviv'd.
But if this critical Liberty raises any jealousy against us, we shall beg leave of our offended Reader to lay before him our Case, at the very worst: That if on such a naked Exposition, it be found criminal, we may be absolutely condemn'd; if otherwise, acquitted, and with the same favour indulg'd, as others in the same Circumstances have been before us.
On this occasion therefore, we may be allow'd to borrow something from the Form or Manner of our Dialogue Author, and represent a Conversation of the same free nature as that recited by him in his[15] Night-Scene; where the suppos'd Sceptick, or Free-Thinker, delivers his Thoughts, and reigns in the Discourse.
'TWAS IN a more considerable Company, and before a more numerous Audience, that not long since, a Gentleman of some Rank, (one who was generally esteem'd to carry a sufficient Caution and Reserve in religious Subjects of Discourse, as well as an apparent Deference to Religion, and in particular to the national and establish'd Church) having been provok'd by an impertinent Attack of a certain violent bigotted Party, was drawn into an open and free Vindication not only of Free-Thinking, but Free-Professing, and Discoursing, in Matters relating to Religion and Faith.
Some of the Company, it seems, after having made bold with him, as to what they fansy'd to be his Principle, began to urge The Necessity of reducing Men to one Profession and Belief.
And several Gentlemen, even of those who pass'd for moderate in their way, seem'd so far to give into this Zealot-Opinion as to agree, That notwithstanding the right Method was not yet found, 'twas highly requisite that some way shou'd be thought on, to reconcile Differences in Opinion; since so long as this Variety shou'd last, Religion, they thought, cou'd never be successfully advanc'd.
To this our Gentleman, at first, answer'd coldly, That What was impossible to be done, cou'd not, he thought, be properly pursu'd, as necessary to be done.
But the Raillery being ill taken, he was forc'd at last to defend himself the best he cou'd, upon this Point; That Variety of Opinions was not to be cur'd.
And That 'twas impossible All shou'd be of one Mind.
I well know, said he, That many pious Men, seeing the Inconveniences which the Dis-union of Persuasions and Opinions accidentally produces, have thought themselves oblig'd to stop this Inundation of Mischiefs, and have made Attempts accordingly. Some have endeavour'd to unite these Fractions, by propounding such a Guide, as they were all bound to follow; hoping that the Unity of a Guide wou'd have produc'd Unity of Minds. But who this Guide shou'd be, after all, became such a Question, that 'twas made part of that Fire it-self which was to be extinguish'd. Others thought of a Rule. —This was to be the effectual Means of Union! This was to do the Work, or nothing cou'd!—But supposing all the World had been agreed on this Rule, yet the Interpretation of it was so full of Variety, that this also became part of the Disease.
The Company, upon this Preamble of our Gentleman, press'd harder upon him than before; objecting the Authority of Holy Scripture against him, and affirming this to be of it-self a sufficient Guide and Rule. They urg'd again and again that known Saying of a fam'd Controversial Divine of our Church against the Divines of another, That the Scripture, the Scripture was the Religion of Protestants.
To this our Gentleman, at first, reply'd only, by desiring them to explain their word Scripture, and by inquiring into the Original of this Collection of antienter and later Tracts, which in general they comprehended under that Title: Whether it were the apocryphal Scripture, or the more canonical? The full or the half-authoriz'd? The doubtful, or the certain? The controverted, or uncontroverted? The singly-read, or that of various Reading? The Text of these Manuscripts, or of those? The Transcripts, Copys, Titles, Catalogues of this Church and Nation, or of that other? of this Sect and Party, or of another? of those in one Age call'd Orthodox, and in possession of Power, or of those who in another overthrew their Predecessors Authority, and in their turn also assum'd the Guardianship and Power of holy Things? For how these sacred Records were guarded in those Ages, might easily, he said, be imagin'd by any one who had the least Insight into the History of those Times which we call'd primitive, and the Characters of those Men, whom we styl'd Fathers of the Church.
It must be confess'd, continu'd he, 'twas a strange Industry and unlucky Diligence which was us'd, in this respect, by these Ecclesiastical Fore-Fathers. Of all those Heresys which gave them Imployment, we have absolutely no Record, or Monument, but what them-selves who were Adversarys have transmitted to us; and we know that Adversarys, especially such who observe all Opportunitys to discredit both the Persons and Doctrines of their Enemys, are not always the best Recorders or Witnesses of such Transactions.
We see it (continu'd he, in a very emphatical, but somewhat embarass'd Style) We see it now in this very Age, in the present Dis-temperatures, that Partys are no good Registers of the Actions of the adverse Side: And if we cannot be confident of the Truth of a Story now, (now, I say, that it is possible for any Man, especially for the interested Adversary, to discover the Imposture) it is far more unlikely, that After-Ages shou'd know any other Truth than such as serves the ends of the Representers.
Our Gentleman by these Expressions had already given considerable Offense to his Zealot-Auditors. They ply'd him faster with passionate Reproaches, than with Arguments or rational Answers. This, however, serv'd only to animate him the more, and made him proceed the more boldly, with the same assum'd Formality, and air of Declamation, in his general Criticism of Holy Literature.
There are, said he, innumerable Places that contain (no doubt) great Mysterys, but so wrap'd in Clouds, or hid in Umbrages, so heighten'd with Expressions, or so cover'd with Allegorys and Garments of Rhetorick; so profound in the matter, or so alter'd and made intricate in the manner; that they may seem to have been left as Trials of our Industry, and as Occasions and Opportunitys for the exercise of mutual Charity and Toleration, rather than as the Repositorys of Faith, and Furniture of Creeds. For when there are found in the Explications of these Writings, so many Commentarys; so many Senses and Interpretations; so many Volumes in all Ages, and all like Mens Faces, no one exactly like another: either this Difference is absolutely no fault at all; or if it be, it is excusable. There are, besides, so many thousands of Copys that were writ by Persons of several Interests and Persuasions, such different Understandings and Tempers, such distinct Abilitys and Weaknesses, that 'tis no wonder there is so great variety of Readings:—whole Verses in one, that are not in another:—whole Books admitted by one Church or Communion, which are rejected by another: and whole Storys and Relations admitted by some Fathers, and rejected by others.—I consider withal, that there have been many Designs and Views in expounding these Writings; many Senses in which they are expounded: and when the Grammatical Sense is found out, we are many times never the nearer. Now there being such variety of Senses in Scripture, and but few Places so mark'd out, as not to be capable of more than one; if Men will write Commentarys by Fancy, what infallible Criterion will be left to judg of the certain Sense of such Places as have been the matter of Question? I consider again, that there are indeed divers Places in these sacred Volumes containing in them Mysterys and Questions of great Concernment; yet such is the Fabrick and Constitution of the Whole, that there is no certain Mark to determine whether the Sense of these Passages shou'd be taken as literal or figurative. There is nothing in the nature of the thing to determine the Sense or Meaning: but it must be gotten out as it can. And therefore 'tis unreasonably requir'd, That what is of it-self ambiguous, shou'd be understood in its own prime Sense and Intention, under the pain of either a Sin, or an Anathema. Very wise Men, even the antient Fathers, have expounded things allegorically, when they shou'd have expounded them literally. Others expound things literally, when they shou'd understand them in Allegory. If such great Spirits cou'd be deceiv'd in finding out what kind of Senses were to be given to Scriptures, it may well be endur'd that we, who sit at their Feet, shou'd be subject at least to equal Failure. If we follow any One Translation, or any One Man's Commentary, what Rule or Direction shall we have, by which to chuse that One aright? Or is there any one Man, that hath translated perfectly, or expounded infallibly? If we resolve to follow any one as far only as we like, or fansy; we shall then only do wrong or right by Chance. If we resolve absolutely to follow any-one, whither-soever he leads, we shall probably come at last, where, if we have any Eyes left, we shall see our-selves become sufficiently ridiculous.
The Reader may here perhaps, by his natural Sagacity, remark a certain air of study'd Discourse and Declamation, not so very proper or natural in the mouth of a mere Gentleman, nor sutable to a Company where alternate Discourse is carry'd on, in un-concerted Measure, and un-premeditated Language. Something there was so very emphatical, withal, in the delivery of these words, by the sceptical Gentleman; that some of the Company who were still more incens'd against him for these Expressions, began to charge him as a Preacher of pernicious Doctrines, one who attack'd Religion in form, and carry'd his Lessons or Lectures about with him, to repeat by rote, at any time, to the Ignorant and Vulgar, in order to seduce them.
'Tis true indeed, said he, Gentlemen! that what I have here ventur'd to repeat, is address'd chiefly to those you call Ignorant; such, I mean, as being otherwise engag'd in the World, have had little time perhaps to bestow upon Inquirys into Divinity-Matters. As for you, Gentlemen! in particular, who are so much displeas'd with my Freedom; I am well assur'd, you are in effect so able and knowing, that the Truth of every Assertion I have advanc'd is sufficiently understood and acknowledg'd by you; however it may happen, that, in your great Wisdom, you think it proper to conceal these Matters from such Persons as you are pleas'd to style the Vulgar.
'Tis true, withal, Gentlemen! continu'd he, I will confess to you, That the words you have heard repeated, are not my own. They are no other than what have been publickly and solemnly deliver'd, even by[16] one of the Episcopal Order, a celebrated Churchman, and one of the highest sort; as appears by his many devotional Works, which carry the Rites, Ceremonys and Pomp of Worship, with the Honour and Dignity of the Priestly and Episcopal Order, to the highest Degree. In effect, we see the Reverend Doctor's Treatises standing, as it were, in the Front of this Order of Authors, and as the foremost of those Good-Books us'd by the politest and most refin'd Devotees of either Sex. They maintain the principal Place in the Study of almost every elegant and high Divine. They stand in Folio's and other Volumes, adorn'd with variety of Pictures, Gildings, and other Decorations, on the advanc'd Shelves or Glass-Cupboards of the Ladys Closets. They are in use at all Seasons, and for all Places, as well for Church-Service as Closet-Preparation; and, in short, may vie with any devotional Books in British Christendom. And for the Life and Character of the Man himself; I leave it to you, Gentlemen, (you, I mean, of the Zealot-kind) to except against it, if you think proper. 'Tis your Manner, I know, and what you never fail to have recourse to, when any Authority is produc'd against you. Personal Reflection is always seasonable, and at hand, on such an occasion. No matter what Virtue, Honesty, or Sanctity may lie in the Character of the Person cited. No matter tho he be ever so much, in other respects, of your own Party, and devoted to your Interest. If he has indiscreetly spoken some Home-Truth, or discover'd some Secret which strikes at the temporal Interests of certain spiritual Societys; he is quickly doom'd to Calumny and Defamation.
I shall try this Experiment, however, once more, (continu'd our Gentleman) and as a Conclusion to this Discourse, will venture to produce to you a further Authority of the same kind. You shall have it before you, in the exact Phrase and Words of the great Author, in his theological Capacity; since I have now no further occasion to conceal my Citations, and accommodate them to the more familiar Style and Language of Conversation.
Our excellent[17] Archbishop, and late Father of our Church, when expresly treating that very Subject of a Rule in matters of Belief, in opposition to Mr. S . . . and Mr. R . . . . . his Romish Antagonists, shews plainly how great a shame it is, for us Protestants at least, (whatever the Case may be with Romanists) to disallow Difference of Opinions, and forbid private Examination, and Search into matters of antient Record, and scriptural Tradition; when, at the same time, we have no pretence to oral or verbal; no Claim to any absolute superior Judg, or decisive Judgment in the Case; no Polity, Church, or Community; no particular Man, or number of Men, who are not, even by our own Confession, plainly fallible, and subject to Error and Mistake.
The Protestants
(says his Grace, speaking in the Person of Mr. S . . . and the Romanists) cannot know how many the Books of Scripture ought to be; and Which of the many controverted ones may be securely put in that Catalogue; Which not.—But I shall tell him, replies his Grace, That we know that just so many ought to be receiv'd as un-controverted Books, concerning which it cannot be shewn there was ever any Controversy.
It was not incumbent perhaps on my Lord Archbishop to help Mr. S . . . . . so far in his Objection, as to add, That in reality the burning, suppressing, and interpolating Method, so early in fashion, and so tightly practis'd on the Epistles, Comments, Historys, and Writings of the Orthodox and Hereticks of old, made it impossible to say with any kind of Assurance, What Books, Copys, or Transcripts those were, concerning which there was never any Controversy at all.
This indeed wou'd be a Point not so easily to be demonstrated. But his Grace proceeds, in shewing the Weakness of the Romish Pillar, Tradition. For it must either,
says he, acknowledg some Books to have been controverted, or not. If not, why doth he make a Supposition of controverted Books? If Oral Tradition acknowledges some Books to have been controverted; then it cannot assure us that they have not been controverted; nor consequently that they ought to be receiv'd as never having been controverted; but only as such, concerning which those Churches who did once raise a Controversy about them, have been since satisfy'd that they are[18] Canonical.—Where is then the Infallibility of Oral Tradition? How does the living Voice of the present Church assure us, that what Books are now receiv'd by Her, were ever receiv'd by Her? And if it cannot do this, but the matter must come to be try'd by the best Records of former Ages, (which the Protestants are willing to have the Catalogue try'd by) then it seems the Protestants have a better way to know what Books are Canonical, than is the infallible way of Oral Tradition. And so long as 'tis better, no matter tho it be not call'd Infallible.
—
Thus the free and generous Archbishop. For, indeed, what greater Generosity is there, than in owning Truth frankly and openly, even where the greatest Advantages may be taken by an Adversary? Accordingly, our worthy Archbishop, speaking again immediately in the Person of his Adversary, The Protestants,
says[19] he, cannot know that the very Original, or a perfectly true Copy of these Books, hath been preserv'd.
Nor is it necessary,
replies the Archbishop, that they shou'd know either of these. It is sufficient that they know that those Copys which they have, are not materially corrupted.—But how do the Church of Rome know that they have perfectly true Copys of the Scriptures in the original Languages? They do not pretend to know this. The learned Men of that Church acknowledg the various Readings as well as we, and do not pretend to know, otherwise than by probable Conjecture, (as we also may do) Which of those Readings is the true-one.
[20]—
And thus, continu'd our Lay-Gentleman, I have finish'd my Quotations, which I have been necessitated to bring in my own Defense; to prove to you That I have asserted nothing on this Head of Religion, Faith, or the Sacred Mysterys, which has not been justify'd and confirm'd by the most celebrated Church-Men and respected Divines. You may now proceed in your Invectives; bestowing as free Language of that kind, as your Charity and Breeding will permit. And You, Reverend Sirs! who have assum'd a Character which sets you above that of the mere Gentleman, and releases you from those Decorums, and constraining Measures of Behaviour to which we of an inferior sort are bound; You may liberally deal your religious Compliments and Salutations in what Dialect you think fit; since for my own part, neither the Names of Heterodox, Schismatick, Heretick, Sceptick, nor even Infidel, or Atheist it-self, will in the least scandalize me, whilst the Sentence comes only from your mouths. On the contrary, I rather strive with my-self to suppress whatever Vanity might naturally arise in me, from such Favour bestow'd. For whatever may, in the bottom, be intended me, by such a Treatment; 'tis impossible for me to term it other than Favour; since there are certain Enmitys, which it will be ever esteem'd a real Honour to have merited.
If, contrary to the Rule and Measure of Conversation, I have drawn the Company's Attention towards me thus long, without affording them an Intermission, during my Recital; they will, I hope, excuse me, the rather, because they heard the other Recitals, and were Witnesses to the heavy Charge and personal Reflection, which without any real Provocation was made upon me in publick, by these Zealot-Gentlemen, to whom I have thus reply'd. And notwithstanding they may, after such Breaches of Charity as are usual with them, presume me equally out of Charity, on my own side; I will take upon me however to give them this good Advice, at parting: That since they have of late been so elated by some seeming Advantages, and a Prosperity, which they are ill fitted to bear; they wou'd at least beware of accumulating too hastily those high Characters, Appellations, Titles, and Ensigns of Power, which may be Tokens, perhaps, of what they expect hereafter, but which, as yet, do not answer the real Power and Authority bestow'd on them.
The Garb and Countenance will be more graceful, when the Thing it-self is secur'd to 'em, and in their actual possession. Mean while, the Anticipation of high Titles, Honours, and nominal Dignitys, beyond the common Style and antient Usage; tho it may be highly fashionable at present, may not prove beneficial or advantageous in the end.
I wou'd, in particular, advise my elegant Antagonists of this Zealot-kind; That among the many Titles they assume to themselves, they wou'd be rather more sparing in that high-one of Embassador, till such time as they have just Means and Foundation to join that of Plenipotentiary together with it. For as matters stand hitherto in our British World, neither their Commission from the Sovereign, nor that which they pretend from Heaven, amounts to any absolute or determining Power.
The first holy Messengers (for That I take to be the highest apostolick Name) brought with them their proper Testimonials, in their Lives, their Manners and Behaviour; as well as in powerful Works, Miracles, and Signs from Heaven. And tho indeed it might well be esteem'd a Miracle in the kind, shou'd our present Messengers go about to represent their Predecessors in any part of their Demeanour or Conversation; yet there are further Miracles remaining for 'em to perform, ere they can in modesty plead the Apostolick or Messenger-Authority. For tho, in the torrent of a sublime and figurative Style, a holy Apostle may have made use, perhaps, of such a Phrase as that of Embassy or Embassador, to express the Dignity of his Errand; 'twere to be wish'd that some who were never sent of any Errand or Message at all from God himself, wou'd use a modester Title to express their voluntary Negotiation between Us and Heaven.
I must confess, for my own part, that I think the Notion of an Embassy from thence to be at best somewhat high-strain'd, in the metaphorical way of Speech. But certain I am, that if there be any such Residentship or Agentship now establish'd; 'tis not immediately from God himself, but thro' the Magistrate, and by the Prince or Sovereign Power here on Earth, that these Gentlemen-Agents are appointed, distinguish'd, and set over us. They have undoubtedly a[21] legal Charter, and Character, legal Titles, and Precedencys, legal Habits, Coats of Arms, Colours, Badges. But they may do well to consider, That a thousand Badges or Liverys bestow'd by Men merely, can never be sufficient to entitle 'em to the same Authority as Theirs, who bore the immediate Testimony and MiraculousSigns of Power, from Above. For in this case, there was need only of Eyes, and ordinary Senses, to distinguish the Commission, and acknowledg the Embassy or Message as divine.
But allowing it ever so certain a Truth, That there has been a thousand or near two thousand Years Succession in this Commission of Embassy
: Where shall we find this Commission to have lain?—How has it been supply'd still, or renew'd?—How often dormant?—How often divided, even in one and the same Species of Claimants?—What Party are they, among Moderns, who by virtue of any immediate Testimonial from Heaven are thus intitled?—Where are the Letters-Patent? The Credentials? For these shou'd, in the nature of the thing, be open, visible, and apparent.
A certain Indian of the Train of the Embassador-Princes sent to us lately from some of those Pagan Nations, being engag'd, one Sunday, in visiting our Churches, and happening to ask his Interpreter, Who the eminent Persons were whom he observ'd haranguing so long, with such Authority from a high Place?
was answer'd, They were Embassadors from the Almighty, or (according to the Indian Language) from the Sun.
Whether the Indian took this seriously or in raillery, did not appear. But having afterwards call'd in, as he went along, at the Chapels of some of his Brother-Embassadors, of the Romish Religion, and at some other Christian Dissenting Congregations, where Matters, as he perceiv'd, were transacted with greater Privacy, and inferior State; he ask'd, Whether These also were Embassadors from the same Place.
He was answer'd, That they had indeed been heretofore of the Embassy, and had Possession of the same chief Places he had seen: But they were now succeeded there, by Others.
If those therefore,
reply'd the Indian, were Embassadors from the Sun; these, I take for granted, are from the Moon.
Supposing, indeed, one had been no Pagan, but a good Christian; conversant in the original Holy Scriptures, but unacquainted with the Rites, Titles, Habits and Ceremonials, of which there is no mention in those Writings: Might one not have inquir'd, with humble Submission, into this Affair? Might one not have softly, and at a distance, apply'd for information concerning this high Embassy; and addressing perhaps to some inferior Officer or Livery-Man of the Train, ask'd modestly, How and Whence they came? Whose Equipage they appear'd in? At Whose Charges they were entertain'd? and by Whose Suffrage or Command appointed and authoriz'd?—Is it true, pray Sirs! that their Excellencys of the present Establishment, are the sole-commission'd? Or are there as many real Commissioners as there are Pretenders? If so; there can be no great danger for us, which-ever way we apply our-selves. We have ample Choice, and may adhere to which Commission we like best. If there be only One single True -one; we have then, it seems, good reason to look about us, search narrowly into the Affair, be scrupulous in our Choice, and (as the current Physick-Bills admonish us) beware of Counterfeits; since there are so many of these abroad, with earthly Powers, and temporal Commissions, to back their spiritual Pretenses.
—
'Tis to be fear'd, in good earnest, that the Discernment of this kind will prove pretty difficult; especially amidst this universal Contention, Embroil, and Fury of religious Challengers, these high Defiances of contrary Believers, this zealous Opposition of Commission to Commission; and this Din of Hell, Anathema's, and Damnations, rais'd every where by one religious Party against another.
So far are the pretendedly commission'd Partys from producing their Commission openly, or proving it from the original Record, or Court-Rolls of Heaven, that they deny us inspection into these very Records they plead, and refuse to submit their Title to human Judgment or Examination.
A Poet of our Nation insinuates indeed in their behalf, That they are fair enough in this respect. For when the murmuring People, speaking by their chosen Orator, or Spokes-man, to the Priests, says to 'em,
With Ease you take what we provide with Care,
And we who your Legation must maintain,
Find all your Tribe in the Commission are,
And none but Heav'n cou'd send so large a Train;
The Apologist afterwards excusing this Boldness of the People, and soothing the incens'd Priests with fairer Words, says to 'em, on a foot of Moderation, which he presumes to be their Character:
[22]You with such Temper their Intemperance bear,
To shew your solid Science does rely
So on it-self, as you no Trial fear:
For Arts are weak that are of Scepticks shy.
The Poet, it seems, never dreamt of a time when the very Countenance of Moderation shou'd be out of fashion with the Gentlemen of this Order, and the Word it-self exploded as unworthy of their Profession. And, indeed, so far are they at present from bearing with any Sceptick, or Inquirer, ever so modest or discreet, that to hear an Argument on a contrary side to theirs, or read whatever may be writ in answer to their particular Assertions, is made the highest Crime. Whilst they have among themselves such Differences, and sharp Debates, about their heavenly Commission, and are even in one and the same Community or Establishment, divided into different Sects and Headships; they will allow no particular Survey or Inspection into the Foundations of their controverted Title. They wou'd have us inferior passive Mortals, amaz'd as we are, and beholding with astonishment from afar these tremendous Subjects of Dispute, wait blindfold the Event and final Decision of the Controversy. Nor is it enough that we are merely passive. 'Tis requir'd of us, That in the midst of this irreconcilable Debate concerning heavenly Authoritys and Powers, we shou'd be as confident of the Veracity of some one, as of the Imposture and Cheat of all the other Pretenders: and that believing firmly there is still A real Commission at the bottom, we shou'd endure the Misery of these Conflicts, and engage on one side or the other, as we happen to have our Birth or Education; till by Fire and Sword, Execution, Massacre, and a kind of Depopulation of this Earth, it be[23] determin'd at last amongst us, Which is the true Commission, exclusive of all others, and superior to the rest.
HERE our secular Gentleman, who in the latter end of his Discourse had already made several Motions and Gestures which betoken'd a Retreat, made his final Bow in form, and quitted the Place and Company for that time; till (as he told his Auditors) he had another Opportunity, and fresh Leisure to hear, in his turn, whatever his Antagonists might anew object to him, in a Manner more favourable and moderate; or, if they so approv'd, in the same Temper, and with the same Zeal as they had done before.
VOL. II. pag. 256. And below, pag. 310.
VOL. I. pag. 38.
VOL. II. pag. 252, 432.
VOL. I. pag. 141.
Contrane lucrum nil valere candidum Pauperis ingenium?
Horat. Epod. xi. ver. 16.
Nam verae Voces tum demum pectore ab imo Eliciuntur.
VOL. II. pag. 256.
Hunccine an hunc sequeris? Subeas alternus oportet
Ancipiti obsequio Dominos.——
Pers. Sat. v. ver. 155.
See VOL. I. pag. 285, 309, 323, &c.
Magne Pater divûm, saevos punire Tyrannos
Haud aliâ ratione velis, cûm dira libido
Moverit ingenium ferventi tincta veneno,
Virtutem videant, intabescantque relictâ.
Pers. Sat. iii. ver. 35.
καὶ μανθάνω μὲν οἱ̑α τολμήσω κακά· θυμὸς δὲ κρείσσων τω̑ν ἐμω̑ν βουλευ-μάτων. Eurip. Med. Act. iv. 1078.
——Video meliora proboque, Deteriora sequor.
Viz. The Moralists, or Philosophick Dialogue, recited in the Person of a Sceptick, under the name of Philocles. See Treatise V. VOL. II. pag. 206, 207, &c.
Supra, pag. 70, 71.
VOL. I. pag. 146, 147.
VOL. II. pag. 321, 2, 3, 4, &c.
The pious and learned Bishop Taylor, in his Treatise on the Liberty of Prophesying, printed in his Collection of Polemical and Moral Discourses, Anno 1657. The Pages answering to the Places above-cited are 401, 402, (and in the Epistle-Dedicatory, three or four Leaves before) 438, 439-444, 451, 452. After which, in the succeeding Page, he sums up his Sense on this Subject of sacred Literature, and the Liberty of Criticism, and of private Judgment and Opinion in these Matters, in the following words: Since there are so many Copys, with infinite Varietys of Reading; since a various Interpunction, a Parenthesis, a Letter, an Accent may much alter the Sense; since some Places have divers literal Senses, many have spiritual, mystical, and allegorical Meanings; since there are so many Tropes, Metonymys, Ironys, Hyperboles, Proprietys and Improprietys of Language, whose understanding depends upon such Circumstances, that it is almost impossible to know the proper Interpretation, now that the knowledg of such Circumstances and particular Storys is irrecoverably lost: since there are some Mysterys, which at the best Advantage of Expression, are not easy to be apprehended, and whose Explication, by reason of our Imperfections, must needs be dark, sometimes weak, sometimes unintelligible: And lastly, since those ordinary means of expounding Scripture, as searching the Originals, Conference of Places, Parity of Reason, and Analogy of Faith, are all dubious, uncertain, and very fallible; he that is the wisest, and by consequence the likeliest to expound truest, in all probability of Reason, will be very far from Confidence; because every one of these, and many more, are like so many degrees of Improbability and Incertainty, all depressing our Certainty of finding out Truth, in such Mysterys, and amidst so many Difficultys. And therefore a wise Man that considers this, wou'd not willingly be prescrib'd to by others; for it is best every Man shou'd be left in that liberty, from which no Man can justly take him, unless he cou'd secure him from Error.
The Reverend Prelate had but a few Pages before (viz. pag. 427.) acknowledg'd, indeed, That we had an Apostolical Warrant to contend earnestly for the Faith.
But then, (says the good Bishop, very candidly and ingenuously) As these Things recede farther from the Foundation, our Certainty is the less.—And therefore it were very fit that our Confidence shou'd be according to our Evidence, and our Zeal according to our Confidence.
He adds, pag. 507. All these Disputes concerning Tradition, Councils, Fathers, &c. are not Arguments against or besides Reason, but Contestations and Pretenses of the best Arguments, and the most certain Satisfaction of our Reason. But then all these coming into question, submit themselves to Reason, that is, to be judg'd by human Understanding, upon the best Grounds and Information it can receive. So that Scripture, Tradition, Councils, and Fathers, are the Evidence in a Question, but Reason is the Judg: That is, we being the Persons that are to be persuaded, we must see that we be persuaded reasonably; and it is unreasonable to assent to a lesser Evidence, when a greater and clearer is propounded: but of that every Man for himself is to take cognizance, if he be able to judg; if he be not, he is not bound under the tie of necessity to know any thing of it.
Viz. Archbishop Tillotson in his Rule of Faith, pag. 677.
His Grace subjoins immediately: The Traditionary Church now, receives the Epistle to the Hebrews as Canonical. I ask, Do they receive it as ever deliver'd for such? That they must, if they receive it from Oral Tradition, which conveys things to them under this Notion as ever deliver'd; and yet St. Hierom (speaking not as a Speculator, but a Testifier) says expressly of it, That the Custom of the Latin Church doth not receive it among the Canonical Scriptures. What saith Mr. S . . . . to this? It is clear from this Testimony, that the Roman Church in St. Hierom's time did not acknowledg this Epistle for Canonical; and 'tis as plain, that the present Roman Church doth receive it for Canonical.
Pag. 678.
The Reader perhaps may find it worth while to read after this, what the Archbishop represents (pag. 716, &c.) of the plausible Introduction of the grossest Article of Belief, in the times when the Habit of making Creeds came in fashion. And accordingly it may be understood, of what effect the dogmatizing Practice in Divinity has ever been. We will suppose then, that about the time, when universal Ignorance, and the genuine Daughter of it, (call her Devotion or Superstition) had over-spread the World, and the generality of People were strongly inclin'd to believe strange things; and even the greatest Contradictions were recommended to them under the notion of MYSTERYS, being told by their Priests and Guides, That the more contradictious any thing is to Reason, the greater merit there is in believing it: I say, let us suppose, that in this state of things, one or more of the most Eminent then in the Church, either out of Design, or out of superstitious Ignorance and Mistake of the Sense of our Saviour's Words used in the Consecration of the Sacrament, shou'd advance this new Doctrine, that the words of Consecration, &c. * * * Such a Doctrine as this was very likely to be advanc'd by the ambitious Clergy of that time, as a probable means to draw in the People to a greater Veneration of them. * * * Nor was such a Doctrine less likely to take and prevail among the People, in an Age prodigiously ignorant and strongly inclin'd to Superstition, and thereby well-prepar'd to receive the grossest Absurdities under the notion of Mysterys. * * * Now supposing such a Doctrine as this, so fitted to the Humour and Temper of the Age, to be once asserted either by chance or out of design, it wou'd take like Wild-fire; especially if by some one or more who bore sway in the Church, it were but recommended with convenient Gravity and Solemnity. * * * * And for the Contradictions contain'd in this Doctrine, it was but telling the People then, (as they do in effect now) That Contradictions ought to be no Scruple in the way of Faith; That the more impossible any thing is, 'tis the fitter to be believ'd; That it is not praise-worthy to believe plain Possibilitys, but this is the Gallantry and heroical Power of Faith, this is the way to oblige God Almighty for ever to us, to believe flat and downright Contradictions. * * * The more absurd and unreasonable any thing is, it is for that very reason the more proper matter for an Article of Faith. And if any of these Innovations be objected against, as contrary to former Belief and Practice, it is but putting forth a lusty Act of Faith, and believing another Contradiction, That tho they be contrary, yet they are the same.
Above, pag. 80, 1, 2.
VOL. I. pag. 362.
Gondibert, Book ii. Canto 1.
Supra, pag. 89.