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Title: The English Works of Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury, Volume 4 (of 11)
Author: Thomas Hobbes
Editor: Sir William Molesworth
Release date: August 12, 2024 [eBook #74236]
Language: English
Original publication: London: John Bohn, 1839
Credits: Emmanuel Ackerman, KD Weeks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ENGLISH WORKS OF THOMAS HOBBES OF MALMESBURY, VOLUME 4 (OF 11) ***
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THE
ENGLISH WORKS
OF
THOMAS HOBBES.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE
ENGLISH WORKS
OF
THOMAS HOBBES
OF MALMESBURY;
NOW FIRST COLLECTED AND EDITED
BY
SIR WILLIAM MOLESWORTH, BART.
---
VOL. IV.
---
LONDON:
JOHN BOHN,
HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN.
---
MDCCCXL.
LONDON:
C. RICHARDS, PRINTER, ST. MARTIN'S LANE.
CONTENTS OF VOL. IV.
-------
PAGE
TRIPOS; in Three Discourses:
I. Human Nature, or the Fundamental Elements of Policy 1
II. De Corpore Politico, or the Elements of Law 77
III. Of Liberty and Necessity 229
An Answer to Bishop Bramhall’s Book, called “The Catching of the
Leviathan” 279
An Historical Narration concerning Heresy, and the Punishment
thereof 385
Considerations upon the Reputation, Loyalty, Manners, and
Religion of Thomas Hobbes 409
Answer to Sir William Davenant’s Preface before “Gondibert” 441
Letter to the Right Honourable Edward Howard 458
HOBBES' TRIPOS
IN
=Three Discourses.=
THE FIRST,
HUMAN NATURE:
THE SECOND,
DE CORPORE POLITICO:
THE THIRD,
OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY.
---
BY
THOMAS HOBBES
OF MALMESBURY.
HUMAN NATURE,
OR THE
FUNDAMENTAL ELEMENTS
OF
POLICY.
BEING A DISCOVERY OF
THE FACULTIES, ACTS, AND PASSIONS,
OF
THE SOUL OF MAN,
FROM THEIR ORIGINAL CAUSES;
ACCORDING TO SUCH
PHILOSOPHICAL PRINCIPLES,
AS ARE NOT COMMONLY KNOWN OR ASSERTED.
BY
THOMAS HOBBES
OF MALMESBURY.
TO THE READER.
-------
READER,
It was thought good to let you know that _Mr. Hobbes_ hath written a
body of philosophy, upon such principles and in such order as are used
by men conversant in demonstration: this he hath distinguished into
three parts; _De Corpore_, _De Homine_, _De Cive_; each of the
consequents beginning at the end of the antecedent, and insisting
thereupon, as the later Books of _Euclid_ upon the former. The last of
these he hath already published in Latin beyond the seas; the second is
this now presented: and if these two receive justice in the world, there
is hope we may obtain the first. He whose care it is, and labour, to
satisfy the _judgment_ and _reason_ of mankind, will condescend so far,
we hope, to satisfy the _desire_ of those learned men whom these shall
either have found or made; which cannot be, until they shall
analytically have followed the grand _phænomena_ of states and kingdoms
through the passions of particular men, into the elemental principles of
natural and corporeal motions. The former work was published by the
Author, and so is out of danger; this by a friend, with leave from him:
and to secure this, you are intreated to consider the relations wherein
it stands, especially to the book _de Cive_. It was thought a part of
religion, not to make any change without the author’s advice, which
could not suddenly be obtained; and so it comes forth innocently,
supposing nothing to have happened since the Dedication of it; which if
it seem a solecism to some, it may to others give satisfaction, in
calling to mind those times and opportunities to which we are indebted
for these admirable compositions.
F. B.
-------
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
WILLIAM, EARL OF NEWCASTLE,
GOVERNOR TO THE PRINCE HIS HIGHNESS,
ONE OF HIS MAJESTY'S MOST HONOURABLE PRIVY COUNCIL.
---
MY MOST HONOURED LORD,
From the principal parts of Nature, Reason and Passion, have proceeded
two kinds of learning, _mathematical_ and _dogmatical_: the former is
free from controversy and dispute, because it consisteth in comparing
figure and motion only; in which things, _truth_, and _the interest of
men_, oppose not each other: but in the other there is nothing
undisputable, because it compareth men, and meddleth with their right
and profit; in which, as oft as reason is against a man, so oft will a
man be against reason. And from hence it cometh, that they who have
written of justice and policy in general, do all invade each other and
themselves with contradictions. To reduce this doctrine to the rules and
infallibility of reason, there is no way, but, first, put such
principles down for a foundation, as passion, not mistrusting, may not
seek to displace; and afterwards to build thereon the truth of cases in
the law of nature (which hitherto have been built in the air) by
degrees, till the whole have been inexpugnable. Now, my Lord, the
principles fit for such a foundation, are those which heretofore I have
acquainted your Lordship withal in private discourse, and which by your
command I have here put into a method. To examine cases thereby between
_sovereign_ and _sovereign_, or between _sovereign_ and _subject_, I
leave to them that shall find leisure and encouragement thereto. For my
part, I present this to your Lordship for the true and only foundation
of such science. For the style, it is therefore the worse, because,
whilst I was writing, I consulted more with logic than with rhetoric:
but for the doctrine, it is not slightly proved; and the conclusions
thereof of such nature, as, for want of them, government and peace have
been nothing else, to this day, but mutual fears; and it would be an
incomparable benefit to commonwealth, that every one held the opinion
concerning _law_ and _policy_ here delivered. The ambition therefore of
this book, in seeking by your Lordship’s countenance to insinuate itself
with those whom the matter it containeth most nearly concerneth, is to
be excused. For myself, I desire no greater honour than I enjoy already
in your Lordship’s favour, unless it be that you would be pleased, in
continuance thereof, to give me more exercise in your commands; which,
as I am bound by your many great favours, I shall obey, being,
My most honoured Lord,
Your most humble and most obliged Servant,
THOMAS HOBBES.
_May 9, 1640._
IN LIBELLUM PRÆSTANTISSIMI
THOMÆ HOBBII,
VIRI VERE PHILOSOPHI,
“DE NATURA HOMINIS.”
Quæ magna cœli mœnia, et tractus maris
Terræque fines, siquid aut ultra est, capit,
Mens ipsa tandem capitur: omnia hactenus
Quæ nosse potuit, nota jam primum est sibi.
Accede, Lector, disce quis demum sies;
Et inquilinam jecoris agnoscas tui,
Qua propius hæret nil tibi, et nil tam procul.
Non hic scholarum frivola, aut cassi logi,
Quales per annos forte plus septem legit;
Ut folle pleno prodeat, rixæ artifex;
Vanasque merces futili lingua crepet:
Sed sancta rerum pondera, et sensus graves,
Quales parari decuit, ipsa cum fuit
Pingenda ratio, et vindici suo adstitit.
Panduntur omnes machinæ gyri tuæ,
Animæque vectes, trochleæ, cunei, rotæ;
Qua concitetur arte, quo sufflamine
Sistatur illa rursus, et constet sibi:
Nec, si fenestram pectori humano suam
Aptasset ipse Momus, inspiceret magis.
Hic cerno levia affectuum vestigia,
Gracilesque sensus lineas; video quibus
Vehantur alis blanduli cupidines,
Quibusque stimulis urgeant iræ graves.
Hic et dolores, et voluptates suos
Produnt recessus; ipse nec timor latet.
Has norit artes, quisquis in foro velit
Animorum habenas flectere, et populos cupit
Aptis ligatos nexibus jungi sibi.
Hic Archimedes publicus figat pedem,
Siquando regna machinis politicis
Urgere satagit, et feras gentes ciet,
Imisque motum sedibus mundum quatit:
Facile domabit cuncta, qui menti imperat.
Consultor audax, et Promethei potens
Facinoris anime! quis tibi dedit Deus
Hæc intueri sæculis longe abdita,
Oculosque luce tinxit ambrosia tuos?
Tu mentis omnis, at tuæ nulla est capax.
Hac laude solus fruere: divinum est opus
Animam creare; proximum huic, ostendere.
RAD. BATHURST, A.M.
COL. TRIN. OXON.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
HUMAN NATURE:
OR THE
FUNDAMENTAL ELEMENTS
OF POLICY.
-------
CHAPTER I.
[Sidenote: Introduction.]
1. The true and perspicuous explication of the elements of _laws
natural and politic_ (_which is my present scope_) dependeth upon
the knowledge of what is _human nature_, what is _body politic_, and
what it is we call a _law_; concerning which points, as the
_writings_ of men from antiquity downwards have still increased, so
also have the _doubts_ and _controversies_ concerning the same: and
seeing that true knowledge begetteth not doubt nor controversy, but
knowledge, it is manifest from the present controversies, that they,
which have _heretofore_ written thereof, have not well understood
their own subject.
2. _Harm_ I can do none, though I err no less than they; for I shall
leave men but as they are, in doubt and dispute: but, intending not
to take any principle upon _trust_, but only to put men in mind of
what they _know already_, or _may know_ by their own experience, I
hope to err the less; and when I do, it must proceed from too _hasty
concluding_, which I will endeavour as much as I can to avoid.
3. On the other side, if _reasoning aright_ win not _consent_, which
may very easily happen, from them that being confident of their own
knowledge weigh not what is said, the _fault_ is not mine, but
theirs; for as it is my part to _shew_ my reasons, so it is theirs
to bring _attention_.
4. Man’s _nature_ is the _sum of his natural faculties and powers_,
as the faculties of _nutrition_, _motion_, _generation_, _sense_,
_reason_, _&c._ These powers we do unanimously call _natural_, and
are contained in the definition of man, under these words, _animal_
and _rational_.
5. According to the two principal parts of man, I divide his
faculties into two sorts, faculties of the _body_, and faculties of
the _mind_.
6. Since the minute and distinct anatomy of the powers of the _body_
is nothing necessary to the present purpose, I will only sum them up
in these three heads, power _nutritive_, power _motive_, and power
_generative_.
7. Of the powers of the _mind_ there be two sorts, _cognitive_,
_imaginative_, or _conceptive_ and _motive_; and first of
_cognitive_.
For the understanding of what I mean by the power _cognitive_, we
must remember and acknowledge that there be in our minds continually
certain _images_ or conceptions of the things without us, insomuch
that if a man could be alive, and all the rest of the world
annihilated, he should nevertheless retain the _image_ thereof, and
all those things which he had before seen or perceived in it; every
one by his own experience knowing, that the _absence_ or
_destruction_ of things once imagined doth not cause the _absence_
or _destruction_ of the _imagination_ itself. This _imagery_ and
_representations_ of the qualities of the thing without, is that we
call our _conception_, _imagination_, _ideas_, _notice_ or
_knowledge_ of them; and the _faculty_ or power by which we are
capable of such knowledge, is that I here call _cognitive power_, or
_conceptive_, the power of knowing or conceiving.
-------
CHAPTER II.
2. Definition of sense. 4. Four propositions concerning the nature
of conceptions. 5. The first proved. 6. The second proved. 7, 8.
The third proved. 9. The fourth proved. 10. The main deception
of sense.
1. Having declared what I mean by the word _conception_, and other
words equivalent thereunto, I come to the _conceptions_ themselves,
to shew their _differences_, their _causes_, and the _manner of the
production_, so far as is necessary for this place.
[Sidenote: Definition of sense.]
2. Originally all _conceptions_ proceed from the _action_ of the
thing itself, whereof it is the conception: now when the action is
_present_, the conception it produceth is also called _sense_; and
the thing by whose action the same is produced, is called the
_object of the sense_.
3. By our several _organs_ we have several _conceptions_ of several
qualities in the objects; for by _sight_ we have a conception or
image composed of _colour_ and _figure_, which is all the notice and
knowledge the object imparteth to us of its nature by the eye. By
_hearing_ we have a conception called _sound_, which is all the
knowledge we have of the quality of the object from the ear. And so
the rest of the senses are also conceptions of several qualities, or
natures of their objects.
[Sidenote: Four propositions concerning the nature of conceptions.]
4. Because the _image_ in vision consisting of _colour_ and _shape_
is the knowledge we have of the qualities of the object of that
sense; it is no hard matter for a man to fall into this opinion,
that the same _colour_ and _shape_ are the _very qualities
themselves_; and for the same cause, that _sound_ and _noise_ are
the _qualities of the bell_, or of the air. And this opinion hath
been so long received, that the _contrary_ must needs appear a great
paradox; and yet the introduction of _species visible_ and
_intelligible_ (which is necessary for the maintenance of that
opinion) passing to and fro from the _object_, is _worse_ than any
paradox, as being a plain _impossibility_. I shall therefore
endeavour to make plain these points:
That the subject wherein colour and image are inherent, is _not_ the
_object_ or thing seen.
That there is nothing _without us_ (really) which we call an _image_
or colour.
That the said image or colour is but an _apparition_ unto us of the
_motion_, agitation, or alteration, which the _object_ worketh in
the _brain_, or spirits, or some internal substance of the head.
That as in _vision_, so also in conceptions that arise from the
_other senses_, the subject of their _inherence_ is not the
_object_, but the _sentient_.
[Sidenote: The first proved]
5. Every man hath so much experience as to have seen the _sun_ and
the other visible objects by reflection in the _water_ and
_glasses_; and this alone is sufficient for this conclusion, that
_colour_ and _image_ may be there where the _thing seen_ is _not_.
But because it may be said that notwithstanding the _image_ in the
water be not in the object, but a thing merely _phantastical_, yet
there may be _colour_ really in the thing itself: I will urge
further this experience, that divers times men see directly the
_same_ object _double_, as _two candles_ for _one_, which may happen
from distemper, or otherwise without distemper if a man will, the
organs being either in their right temper, or equally distempered;
the _colours_ and _figures_ in two such images of the same thing
_cannot be inherent_ therein, because the thing seen cannot be in
_two places_.
_One_ of these images therefore is _not inherent_ in the object: but
seeing the organs of the sight are then in equal temper or
distemper, the _one_ of them is no more inherent than the _other_;
and consequently _neither_ of them both are in the object; which is
the first proposition, mentioned in the precedent number.
[Sidenote: The second proved.]
6. Secondly, that the image of any thing by _reflection_ in a
_glass_ or _water_ or the like, is _not_ any thing _in_ or _behind_
the glass, or _in_ or _under_ the water, every man may grant to
himself; which is the second proposition.
[Sidenote: The third proved.]
7. For the third, we are to consider, first that upon every _great
agitation_ or _concussion_ of the _brain_ (as it happeneth from a
stroke, especially if the stroke be upon the eye) whereby the optic
nerve suffereth any great violence, there _appeareth_ before the
_eyes_ a certain light, which light is _nothing without_, but an
apparition only, all that is real being the concussion or motion of
the parts of that nerve; from which experience we may conclude, that
_apparition of light is really nothing but motion_ within. If
therefore from _lucid bodies_ there can be derived _motion_, so as
to affect the optic nerve in such manner as is proper thereunto,
there will follow an _image_ of light somewhere in that line by
which the motion was last derived to the eye; that is to say, in the
object, if we look directly on it, and in the glass or water, when
we look upon it in the line of reflection, which in effect is the
third proposition; namely, that image and colour is but an
apparition to us of that motion, agitation, or alteration which the
object worketh in the brain or spirits, or some _internal_ substance
in the head.
8. But that _from all lucid_, shining and illuminate bodies, there
is a _motion produced_ to the eye, and, through the eye, to the
_optic_ nerve, and so into the _brain_, by which that apparition of
_light_ or _colour_ is affected, is not hard to prove. And first, it
is evident that the _fire_, the only lucid body here upon earth,
worketh by _motion_ equally every way; insomuch as the motion
thereof _stopped_ or inclosed, it is presently _extinguished_, and
no more fire. And further, that that motion, whereby the fire
worketh, is _dilation_, and _contraction_ of itself _alternately_,
commonly called _scintillation_ or glowing, is manifest also by
experience. From such _motion_ in the fire must needs arise a
_rejection_ or casting from itself of that part of the _medium_
which is _contiguous_ to it, whereby that part also rejecteth the
_next_, and so successively one part beateth back another to the
very _eye_; and in the same manner the _exterior_ part of the eye
presseth the _interior_, (the laws of refraction still observed).
Now the interior coat of the eye is nothing else but a piece of the
_optic_ nerve; and therefore the motion is still continued thereby
into the _brain_, and by _resistance_ or reaction of the brain, is
also a _rebound_ into the optic nerve again; which we _not
conceiving_ as motion or rebound from _within_, do think it is
_without_, and call it _light_; as hath been already shewed by the
experience of a stroke. We have no reason to doubt, that the
fountain of light, the _sun_, worketh by any other ways than the
_fire_, at least in this matter. And thus all _vision_ hath its
original from such _motion_ as is here described: for where there is
no light, there is no sight; and therefore _colour_ also must be the
same thing with _light_, as being the effect of the lucid bodies:
their _difference_ being only this, that when the light cometh
_directly_ from the fountain to the eye, or _indirectly_ by
reflection from _clean_ and _polite_ bodies, and such as have _not_
any particular motion internal to alter it, we call it _light_; but
when it cometh to the eye by reflection from _uneven_, _rough_, and
coarse bodies, or such as are affected with internal motion of their
own that may alter it, then we call it _colour_; colour and light
differing only in this, that the one is _pure_, and the other
_perturbed_ light. By that which hath been said, not only the truth
of the third proposition, but also the whole manner of producing
light and colour, is apparent.
[Sidenote: The fourth proved.]
9. As colour is not inherent in the object, but an effect thereof
upon us, caused by such motion in the object, as hath been
described: so neither is _sound_ in the thing we hear, but in
ourselves. One manifest sign thereof is, that as a man may _see_, so
also he may _hear double_ or _treble_, by multiplication of
_echoes_, which echoes are sounds as well as the original; and _not_
being in one and the _same place_, cannot be _inherent_ in the body
that maketh them. Nothing can make any thing which is not in itself:
the _clapper_ hath no _sound_ in it, but _motion_, and maketh motion
in the internal parts of the bell; so the _bell_ hath motion, and
not sound, that imparteth _motion_ to the _air_; and the _air_ hath
motion, but not sound; the _air_ imparteth motion by the _ear_ and
_nerve_ unto the _brain_; and the brain hath motion but not sound;
from the _brain_, it reboundeth back into the nerves _outward_, and
thence it becometh an _apparition without_, which we call _sound_.
And to proceed to the _rest_ of the _senses_, it is apparent enough,
that the _smell_ and _taste_ of the _same thing_, are _not_ the
_same_ to _every man_; and therefore are not in the thing _smelt_ or
_tasted_, but in the men. So likewise the _heat_ we feel from the
fire is manifestly in _us_, and is quite _different_ from the heat
which is in the _fire_: for _our_ heat is _pleasure_ or _pain_,
according as it is _great_ or _moderate_; but in the _coal_ there is
no such thing. By this the fourth and last proposition is proved,
_viz._ that as in vision, so also in conceptions that arise from
_other_ senses, the subject of their inherence is not in the object,
but in the sentient.
[Sidenote: The main deception of sense.]
10. And from hence also it followeth, that _whatsoever accidents_ or
qualities our senses make us think there be in the _world_, they be
_not_ there, but are _seeming_ and _apparitions_ only: the things
that really _are_ in the world without us, are those _motions_ by
which these seemings are caused. And this is the _great deception of
sense_, which also is to be by sense _corrected_: for as sense
telleth me, when I see _directly_, that the colour seemeth to _be_
in the object; so also sense telleth me, when I see by _reflection_,
that colour is not in the object.
-------
CHAPTER III.
1. Imagination defined. 2. Sleep and dreams defined. 3. Causes of
dreams. 4. Fiction defined. 5. Phantasms defined. 6. Remembrance
defined. 7. Wherein remembrance consisteth. 8. Why in a dream a
man never thinks he dreams. 9. Why few things seem strange in
dreams. 10. That a dream may be taken for reality and vision.
[Sidenote: Imagination defined.]
1. As standing water put into motion by the stroke of a _stone_, or
blast of wind, doth _not presently_ give over moving as soon as the
wind ceaseth, or the stone settleth: so _neither_ doth the _effect_
cease which the _object_ hath wrought upon the _brain_, so soon as
ever by turning aside of the organs the _object ceaseth_ to work;
that is to say, though the _sense_ be _past_, the _image_ or
_conception_ remaineth; but more _obscure_ while we are _awake_,
because some _object_ or other continually _plieth_ and soliciteth
our eyes, and ears, _keeping_ the mind in a _stronger_ motion,
whereby the _weaker_ doth not easily _appear_. And this obscure
conception is that we call _phantasy_, or _imagination_:
_imagination_ being, to define it, _conception remaining, and by
little and little decaying from and after the act of sense_.
[Sidenote: Sleep and dreams defined.]
2. But when _present_ sense is _not_, as in _sleep_, there the
_images_ remaining after sense, when there be many, as in dreams,
are _not obscure_, but _strong_ and _clear_, as in sense itself. The
reason is, that which obscured and made the conceptions weak, namely
sense, and present _operation_ of the object, is _removed_: for
_sleep_ is the _privation of the act of sense_, (the power
remaining) and _dreams_ are the _imagination_ of them that _sleep_.
[Sidenote: Causes of dreams.]
3. The _causes_ of dreams, if they be natural, are the _actions_ or
violence of the _inward_ parts of a man upon his _brain_, by which
the _passages_ of sense by sleep _benumbed_, are _restored_ to their
motion. The signs by which this appeareth to be so, are the
_differences_ of dreams (old men commonly dream oftener, and have
their dreams more painful than young) proceeding from the
_different_ accidents of man’s body, as dreams of _lust_, as dreams
of _anger_, according as the heart, or other parts within, work more
or less upon the brain, by more or less _heat_; so also the descents
of different _sorts of phlegm_ maketh us a dream of different tastes
of meats and drinks; and I believe there is a _reciprocation_ of
motion from the brain to the vital parts, and back from the vital
parts to the brain; whereby not only _imagination_ begetteth
_motion_ in those parts; but also motion in those parts begetteth
imagination like to that by which it was begotten. If this be true,
and that _sad_ imaginations nourish the _spleen_, then we see also a
cause, why a strong _spleen_ reciprocally causeth _fearful dreams_,
and why the effects of _lasciviousness_ may in a dream produce the
image of some person that had _caused_ them. Another sign that
dreams are caused by the action of the inward parts, is the
_disorder_ and casual consequence of one conception or image to
another: for when we are _waking_, the _antecedent_ thought or
conception introduceth, and is cause of the _consequent_, as the
water followeth a man’s finger upon a dry and level table; but in
_dreams_ there is commonly _no coherence_, and when there is, it is
by chance, which must needs proceed from this, that the _brain_ in
dreams is _not restored_ to its motion in every part alike; whereby
it cometh to pass, that our thoughts appear like the stars between
the flying clouds, not in the order which a man would choose to
observe them, but as the uncertain flight of broken clouds permits.
[Sidenote: Fiction defined.]
4. As when the _water_, or any liquid thing moved at once by
_divers_ movents, receiveth _one_ motion compounded of them all; so
also the _brain_ or spirit therein, having been stirred by _divers_
objects, composeth an imagination of _divers_ conceptions that
appeared single to the sense. As for example, the sense sheweth at
one time the figure of a _mountain_, and at another time the colour
of _gold_; but the imagination afterwards hath them both at once in
a _golden mountain_. From the same cause it is, there appear unto us
_castles_ in the _air_, _chimeras_, and other monsters which are
_not_ in _rerum natura_, _but_ have been conceived by the sense in
pieces at several times. And this composition is that which we
commonly call _fiction_ of the mind.
[Sidenote: Phantasms defined.]
5. There is yet another kind of imagination, which for _clearness
contendeth_ with _sense_, as well as a _dream_; and that is, when
the _action_ of sense hath been _long_ or _vehement_: and the
experience thereof is more frequent in the sense of seeing, than the
rest. An example whereof is, the _image_ remaining before the _eye_
after looking upon the _sun_. Also, those little images that appear
before the eyes in the _dark_ (whereof I think every man hath
experience, but they most of all, who are _timorous_ or
superstitious) are examples of the same. And these, for
distinction-sake, may be called _phantasms_.
[Sidenote: Remembrance defined.]
6. By the _senses_, which are numbered according to the _organs_ to
be _five_, we take notice (as hath been said already) of the objects
_without_ us; and that _notice_ is our _conception_ thereof: but we
take _notice_ also some way or other _of our conceptions_: for when
the conception of the same thing cometh _again_, we take notice that
it is _again_; that is to say, that we have had the same conception
_before_; which is as much as to imagine a thing _past_; which is
impossible to the _sense_, which is only of things _present_. This
therefore may be accounted a _sixth sense_, but _internal_, (not
_external_, as the rest) and is commonly called _remembrance_.
[Sidenote: Wherein remembrance consisteth.]
7. For the _manner_ by which we take notice of a conception _past_,
we are to remember, that in the _definition_ of _imagination_, it is
said to be a conception by _little_ and _little decaying_, or
growing more _obscure_. An _obscure_ conception is that which
representeth the _whole object_ together, but _none_ of the _smaller
parts_ by themselves; and as _more_ or _fewer_ parts be represented,
so is the conception or representation said to be _more_ or _less
clear_. Seeing then the _conception_, which when it was _first_
produced by sense, was _clear_, and represented the _parts_ of the
object _distinctly_; and when it cometh _again_ is _obscure_, we
find _missing_ somewhat that we expected; by which we judge it
_past_ and _decayed_. For example, a man that is present in a
foreign _city_, seeth not only _whole_ streets, but can also
distinguish particular _houses_, and _parts_ of houses; but departed
thence, he cannot distinguish them so particularly in his mind as he
did, some _house_ or turning escaping him; yet is this to
_remember_: when _afterwards_ there escape him _more_ particulars,
this is also to _remember_, but _not_ so well. In process of time,
the _image_ of the city _returneth_ but as a _mass_ of building
_only_, which is _almost_ to have _forgotten_ it. Seeing then
remembrance is _more_ or _less_, as we find more or less
_obscurity_, why may not we well think _remembrance_ to be nothing
else but the _missing of parts_, which every man expecteth should
succeed after they have a conception of the whole? To see at a great
distance of place, and to remember at a great distance of time, is
to have like conceptions of the thing: for there wanteth distinction
of parts in both; the one conception being weak by operation at
distance, the other by decay.
[Sidenote: Why in a dream a man never thinks he dreams.]
8. And from this that hath been said, there followeth, that a man
can _never know_ he _dreameth_; he _may_ dream he _doubteth_,
whether it be a dream or no: but the clearness of the imagination
representeth every thing with as many parts as doth sense itself,
and consequently, he can take notice of nothing but as present;
whereas to think he dreameth, is to think those his conceptions,
that is to say dreams, obscurer than they were in the sense: so that
he must think them both as clear, and not as clear as sense; which
is impossible.
[Sidenote: Why few things seem strange in dreams.]
9. From the same ground it proceedeth, that men _wonder not_ in
their dreams at place and persons, as they would do waking: for
waking, a man would think it strange to be in a place where he never
was before, and remember nothing of how he came there; but in a
dream, there cometh little of that kind into consideration. The
_clearness_ of conception in a dream, taketh away _distrust_, unless
the _strangeness_ be _excessive_, as to think himself fallen from on
high without hurt, and then most commonly he _waketh_.
[Sidenote: That a dream may be taken for reality and vision.]
10. Nor is it _impossible_ for a man to be so far deceived, as when
his dream is _past_, to think it real: for if he dream of such
things as are ordinarily in his mind, and in such order as he useth
to do waking, and withal that he laid him down to sleep in the place
where he findeth himself when he awaketh; all which may happen: I
know no κριτήριον or mark by which he can discern whether it were a
dream or not, and therefore do the less wonder to hear a man
sometimes to tell his dream for a truth, or to take it for a vision.
-------
CHAPTER IV.
1. Discourse. 2. The cause of coherence of thoughts. 3. Ranging. 4.
Sagacity. 5. Reminiscence. 6. Experience. 7. Expectation. 8.
Conjecture. 9. Signs. 10. Prudence. 11. Caveats of concluding
from experience.
[Sidenote: Discourse.]
1. The _succession_ of conceptions in the mind, series or
consequence of one after another, may be _casual_ and incoherent, as
in dreams for the most part; and it may be _orderly_, as when the
former thought introduceth the latter; and this is _discourse_ of
the mind. But because the word discourse is commonly taken for the
_coherence_ and consequence of words, I will, to avoid equivocation,
call it _discursion_.
[Sidenote: The cause of coherence of thoughts.]
2. The _cause_ of the _coherence_ or consequence of one conception
to another, is their first _coherence_ or consequence at that _time_
when they are produced by sense: as for example, from St. Andrew the
mind runneth to St. Peter, because their names are read together;
from St. Peter to a _stone_, for the same cause; from _stone_ to
_foundation_, because we see them together; and for the same cause,
from foundation to _church_, and from church to _people_, and from
people to _tumult_: and according to this example, the mind may run
almost from anything to anything. But as in the _sense_ the
conception of cause and effect may succeed one another; so may they
after sense in the _imagination_: and for the most part they do so;
the _cause_ whereof is the _appetite_ of them, who, having a
conception of the _end_, have next unto it a conception of the next
_means_ to that end: as, when a man, from a thought of _honour_ to
which he hath an appetite, cometh to the thought of _wisdom_, which
is the next means thereunto; and from thence to the thought of
_study_, which is the next means to wisdom.
[Sidenote: Ranging.]
3. To omit that kind of discursion by which we proceed from anything
to anything, there are of the _other_ kind _divers_ sorts: as first,
in the _senses_ there are certain coherences of conceptions, which
we may call _ranging_; examples whereof are; a man casteth his _eye_
upon the _ground_, to look about for some _small_ thing lost; the
_hounds_ casting about at a fault in hunting; and the _ranging_ of
spaniels: and herein we take a beginning arbitrary.
[Sidenote: Sagacity.]
4. Another sort of discursion is, when the _appetite_ giveth a man
his beginning, as in the example before, where honour to which a man
hath appetite, maketh him think upon the next means of attaining it,
and that again of the next, &c. And this the Latins call
_sagacitas_, and we may call _hunting_ or _tracing_, as dogs trace
beasts by the smell, and men hunt them by their footsteps; or as men
hunt after riches, place, or knowledge.
[Sidenote: Reminiscence.]
5. There is yet another kind of discursion beginning with the
appetite to _recover_ something lost, proceeding from the _present
backward_, from thought of the place where we _miss_ at, to the
thought of the place from whence we came _last_; and from the
thought of that, to the thought of a place _before_, till we have in
our mind some place, wherein we had the thing we miss: and this is
called _reminiscence_.
[Sidenote: Experience.]
6. The _remembrance_ of succession of one thing to another, that is,
of what was _antecedent_, and what _consequent_, and what
_concomitant_, is called an _experiment_; whether the same be made
by us _voluntarily_, as when a man putteth any thing into the fire,
to see what effect the fire will produce upon it: or _not_ made by
us, as when we remember a fair morning after a red evening. To have
had many _experiments_, is that we call _experience_, which is
nothing else but _remembrance_ of what antecedents have been
followed by what consequents.
[Sidenote: Expectation.]
7. No man can have in his mind a conception of the _future_, for the
future is _not yet_: but of our conceptions of the _past_, we make a
_future_; or rather, call _past_, _future_ relatively. Thus after a
man hath been accustomed to see like antecedents followed by like
consequents, whensoever he seeth the like come to pass to any thing
he had seen before, he looks there should follow it the same that
followed then: as for example, because a man hath often seen
offences followed by punishment, when he seeth an offence in
present, he thinketh punishment to be consequent thereto; but
consequent unto that which is present, men call future; and thus we
make _remembrance_ to be the _prevision_ of things to come, or
_expectation_ or presumption of the future.
[Sidenote: Conjecture.]
8. In the same manner, if a man seeth in present that which he hath
seen before, he thinks that that which was antecedent to that which
he saw before, is also antecedent to that he presently seeth: as for
example, he that hath seen the ashes remain after the fire, and now
again seeth ashes, concludeth again there hath been fire: and this
is called again _conjecture_ of the past, or presumption of the
fact.
[Sidenote: Signs.]
9. When a man hath _so often_ observed like antecedents to be
followed by like consequents, that _whensoever_ he seeth the
antecedent, he looketh again for the consequent; or when he seeth
the consequent, maketh account there hath been the like antecedent;
then he calleth both the antecedent and the consequent, _signs_ one
of another, as clouds are signs of rain to come, and rain of clouds
past.
[Sidenote: Prudence.]
10. This taking of signs by _experience_, is that wherein men do
ordinarily think, the difference stands between man and man in
_wisdom_, by which they commonly understand a man’s whole ability or
_power cognitive_; but this is an _error_: for the signs are but
_conjectural_; and according as they have often or seldom failed, so
their _assurance_ is more or less; but _never full_ and _evident_:
for though a man have always seen the day and night to follow one
another hitherto; yet can he not thence conclude they shall do so,
or that they have done so eternally: _experience concludeth nothing
universally_. If the signs hit twenty times for one missing, a man
may lay a wager of twenty to one of the event; but may not conclude
it for a truth. But by this it is plain, that they shall _conjecture
best_, that have _most experience_, because they have most signs to
conjecture by: which is the reason _old men_ are _more prudent_,
that is, conjecture better, _cæteris paribus_, than young: for,
being old, they remember more; and experience is but remembrance.
And _men_ of _quick_ imagination, _cæteris paribus_, are more
_prudent_ than those whose imaginations are slow: for they observe
_more_ in _less_ time. Prudence is nothing but conjecture from
experience, or taking of signs from experience warily, that is, that
the experiments from which he taketh such signs be all remembered;
for else the cases are not alike that seem so.
[Sidenote: Caveats of concluding from experience.]
11. As in conjecture concerning things past and future, it is
prudence to conclude from experience, what is like to come to pass,
or to have passed already; so it is an error to conclude from it,
that _it is_ so or so _called_; that is to say, we cannot from
experience conclude, that any thing is to be called _just_ or
_unjust_, _true_ or _false_, or any proposition _universal_
whatsoever, except it be from remembrance of the use of names
imposed arbitrarily by men: for example, to have heard a sentence
given in the like case, the like sentence a thousand times is not
enough to conclude that the sentence is just; though most men have
no other means to conclude by: but it is _necessary_, for the
drawing of such conclusion, to _trace_ and _find out_, by many
experiences, what men do mean by calling things just and unjust.
Further, there is another _caveat_ to be taken in concluding by
experience, from the tenth section of the second chapter; that is,
that we conclude such things to be without, that are within us.
-------
CHAPTER V.
1. Of marks. 2. Names or appellations. 3. Names positive and
privative. 4. Advantage of names maketh us capable of science.
5. Names universal and singular. 6. Universals not in _rerum
natura_. 7. Equivocal names. 8. Understanding. 9. Affirmation,
negation, proposition. 10. Truth, falsity. 11. Ratiocination.
12. According to reason, against reason. 13. Names causes of
knowledge, so of error. 14. Translation of the discourse of the
mind into the discourse of the tongue, and of the errors thence
proceeding.
[Sidenote: Of marks.]
1. Seeing the _succession_ of conceptions in the _mind_ are caused,
as hath been said before, by the succession they _had_ one to
another when they were produced by the _senses_, and that there is
no conception that hath not been produced immediately before or
after innumerable others, by the innumerable acts of sense; it must
needs follow, that one _conception_ followeth _not_ another,
according to our election, and the need we have of them, _but_ as it
_chanceth_ us to hear or see such things as shall bring them to our
mind. The experience we have hereof, is in such brute beasts, which,
having the providence to hide the remains and superfluity of their
meat, do nevertheless want the remembrance of the place where they
hid it, and thereby make no benefit thereof in their hunger: but
man, who in this point beginneth to rank himself somewhat above the
nature of beasts, hath observed and remembered the cause of this
defect, and to amend the same, hath imagined or devised to set up a
visible or other sensible mark, the which, when he seeth it again,
may bring to his mind the thought he had when he set it up. A _mark_
therefore is a _sensible object_ which a man erecteth voluntarily to
himself, to the end to _remember_ thereby somewhat past, when the
same is objected to his sense again: as men that have passed by a
rock at sea, set up some mark, thereby to remember their former
danger, and avoid it.
[Sidenote: Names or appellations.]
2. In the number of these _marks_, are those _human voices_, which
we call the _names_ or appellations of things sensible by the ear,
by which we recall into our mind some conceptions of the things to
which we gave those names or appellations; as the appellation
_white_ bringeth to remembrance the quality of such objects as
produce that colour or conception in us. A _name_ or appellation
therefore is the _voice_ of a man _arbitrary_, imposed for a _mark_
to bring into his mind some conception concerning the thing on which
it is imposed.
[Sidenote: Names positive and privative.]
3. Things named, are either the _objects_ themselves, as a man; or
the _conception_ itself that we have of man, as shape and motion: or
some privation, which is when we conceive that there is something
which we conceive, not in him; as when we conceive he is not just,
not finite, we give him the name of unjust, of infinite, which
signify privation or defect; and to the privations themselves we
give the names of injustice and infiniteness: so that here be _two
sorts_ of names; one of _things_, in which we conceive something; or
of the conceptions themselves, which are called _positive_: the
other of things wherein we conceive _privation_ or defect, and those
names are called _privative_.
[Sidenote: Advantage of names maketh us capable of science.]
4. By the advantage of _names_ it is that we are capable of
_science_, which beasts, for want of them are not; nor man, without
the use of them: for as a beast misseth not one or two out of many
her young ones, for want of those names of order, one, two, and
three, and which we call _number_; so neither would a man, without
repeating orally or mentally the words of number, know how many
pieces of money or other things lie before him.
[Sidenote: Names universal and singular.]
5. Seeing there be _many_ conceptions of _one_ and the same thing,
and for _every_ conception we give it a _several_ name; it followeth
that for one and the same thing, we have many names or attributes;
as to the same man we give the appellations of _just_, _valiant_,
&c. for divers _virtues_; of _strong_, _comely_, &c. for divers
_qualities_ of the _body_. And again, because from divers things we
receive like conceptions, many things must needs have the same
appellation: as to all things we _see_, we give the same name of
_visible_; and to all things we _see moveable_, we give the
appellation of _moveable_: and those names we give to _many_, are
called _universal_ to them all; as the name of man to every
particular of mankind: such appellation as we give to _one_ only
thing, we call _individual_, or singular; as Socrates, and other
proper names: or, by circumlocution, he that writ the _Iliads_, for
Homer.
[Sidenote: Universals not in _rerum natura_.]
6. The universality of _one name_ to many things, hath been the
cause that men think the _things_ are themselves universal; and so
seriously contend, that besides Peter and John, and all the rest of
the men that are, have been, or shall be in the world, there is yet
something else that we call _man_, viz. _man in general_, deceiving
themselves, by taking the universal, or general appellation, for the
thing it signifieth: for if one should desire the painter to make
him the picture of a man, which is as much as to say, of a man in
general; he meaneth no more, but that the painter should choose what
man he pleaseth to draw, which must needs be some of them that are,
or have been, or may be, none of which are _universal_. But when he
would have him to draw the picture of the king, or any particular
person, he limiteth the painter to that one person he chooseth. It
is plain therefore, that there is _nothing universal_ but _names_;
which are therefore called _indefinite_; because we limit them not
ourselves, but leave them to be applied by the hearer: whereas a
singular name is limited and restrained to one of the many things it
signifieth; as when we say, this man, pointing to him, or giving him
his proper name, or by some such other way.
[Sidenote: Equivocal names.]
7. The appellations that be _universal_, and common to many
things, are _not_ always given to all the _particulars_, (as they
ought to be) for like conceptions, and like considerations in them
all; which is the cause that many of them are _not_ of _constant_
signification, but bring into our mind other thoughts than those
for which they were ordained, and these are called equivocal. As
for example, the word faith signifieth the same with belief;
sometimes it signifieth particularly that belief which maketh a
Christian; and sometime it signifieth the keeping of a promise.
Also all _metaphors_ are by profession _equivocal_: and there is
scarce any word that is not made _equivocal_ by divers contextures
of speech, or by diversity of pronunciation and gesture.
[Sidenote: Understanding.]
8. This _equivocation_ of names maketh it _difficult_ to recover
those conceptions for which the name was ordained; and that not only
in the language of other men, wherein we are to consider the
_drift_, and _occasion_, and _contexture_ of the speech, as well as
the _words_ themselves; but also in our discourse, which being
derived from the custom and common use of speech, representeth unto
us not our own conceptions. It is therefore a great ability in a
man, out of the words, contexture, and other circumstances of
language, to deliver himself from _equivocation_, and to find out
the true meaning of what is said: and this is it we call
_understanding_.
[Sidenote: Affirmation, negation, proposition.]
9. Of two _appellations_, by the help of this little verb _is_, or
something equivalent, we make an _affirmation_ or _negation_, either
of which in the Schools we call also a _proposition_, and consisteth
of two appellations joined together by the said verb _is_: as for
example, man is a living creature; or thus, man is not righteous:
whereof the former is called an _affirmation_, because the
appellation, living creature, is _positive_; the latter a
_negative_, because not righteous is _privative_.
[Sidenote: Truth, falsity.]
10. In _every proposition_, be it affirmative or negative, the
latter appellation either comprehendeth the former, as in this
proposition, charity is a virtue, the name of virtue comprehendeth
the name of charity, and many other virtues beside; and then is the
proposition said to be _true_, or _truth_: for, _truth_, and a _true
proposition_, is all one. Or _else_ the _latter_ appellation
comprehendeth _not_ the former; as in this proposition, every man is
just; the name of just comprehendeth not every man; for unjust is
the name of the far greater part of men: and the proposition is said
to be _false_, or falsity: _falsity_ and a _false proposition_ being
also the same thing.
[Sidenote: Ratiocination.]
11. In what manner of two propositions, whether _both_ affirmative,
or _one_ affirmative, the _other_ negative, is made a _syllogism_, I
forbear to write. All this that hath been said of names or
propositions, though _necessary_, is but _dry_ discourse: and this
place is not for the whole art of logic, which if I enter further
into, I ought to pursue: besides, it is not needful; for there be
few men which have not so much natural logic, as thereby to discern
well enough, whether any conclusion I shall make in this discourse
hereafter, be well or ill collected: only thus much I say in this
place, that _making of syllogisms_ is that we call _ratiocination_
or _reasoning_.
[Sidenote: According to reason, against reason.]
12. Now when a man _reasoneth_ from _principles_ that are _found_
indubitable by experience, all deceptions of sense and equivocation
of words avoided, the conclusion he maketh is said to be _according
to right reason_: but when from his conclusion a man may, by good
ratiocination, derive that which is _contradictory_ to any evident
truth whatsoever, then he is said to have concluded _against
reason_: and such a conclusion is called _absurdity_.
[Sidenote: Names causes of knowledge, so of error.]
13. As the _invention_ of _names_ hath been _necessary_ for the
drawing men _out of_ ignorance, by calling to their remembrance the
necessary _coherence_ of one conception to another; so also hath it
on the other side precipitated men into _error_: insomuch, that
whereas by the benefit of _words_ and ratiocination they exceed
_brute beasts_ in knowledge, and the commodities that accompany the
same; so they exceed them also in _error_: for _true_ and _false_
are things not incident to beasts, because they adhere not to
propositions and language; nor have they ratiocination, whereby to
multiply one untruth by another, as men have.
[Sidenote: Translation of the discourse of the mind into the
discourse of the tongue, and of the errors thence
proceeding.]
14. It is the _nature_ almost of every _corporal_ thing, being
_often moved_ in one and the same manner, to receive continually a
_greater_ and _greater easiness_ and aptitude to the _same_ motion,
insomuch as in time the same becometh so _habitual_, that, to
_beget_ it, there needs no more than to _begin_ it. The _passions_
of man, as they are the beginning of _voluntary_ motions; so are
they the beginning of _speech_, which is the motion of the tongue.
And men desiring to shew others the knowledge, opinions,
conceptions, and passions which are in themselves, and to that end
having invented _language_, have by that means transferred all that
_discursion_ of their _mind_ mentioned in the former chapter, by the
_motion_ of their _tongues_, into _discourse_ of _words_: and
_ratio_ now is but _oratio_, for the most part, wherein custom hath
so great a power, that the mind suggesteth only the first word; the
rest follow _habitually_, and are not followed by the mind; as it is
with beggars, when they say their _paternoster_, putting together
such words, and in such manner, as in their education they have
learned from their nurses, from their companies, or from their
teachers, having _no images_ or _conceptions_ in their mind,
answering to the words they speak: and as they have learned
themselves, so they teach posterity. Now, if we consider the power
of those _deceptions_ of the sense, mentioned chapter II. section
10, and also how _unconstantly_ names have been settled, and how
subject they are to _equivocation_, and how _diversified_ by
_passion_, (scarce two men agreeing what is to be called good, and
what evil; what liberality, what prodigality; what valour, what
temerity) and how subject men are to paralogism or fallacy in
reasoning, I may in a manner conclude, that it is impossible to
_rectify_ so many errors of any one man, as must needs proceed from
those causes, without beginning _anew_ from the very first grounds
of all our knowledge and sense; and instead of books, reading over
orderly one’s own conceptions: in which meaning, I take _nosce te
ipsum_ for a precept worthy the reputation it hath gotten.
-------
CHAPTER VI.
1. Of the two kinds of knowledge. 2. Truth and evidence necessary to
knowledge. 3. Evidence defined. 4. Science defined. 5.
Supposition defined. 6. Opinion defined. 7. Belief defined. 8.
Conscience defined. 9. Belief, in some cases, no less from doubt
than knowledge.
[Sidenote: Of the two kinds of knowledge.]
1. There is a story somewhere, of one that pretends to have been
miraculously cured of blindness, wherewith he was born, by St. Alban
or other Saints, at the town of St. Alban’s; and that the Duke of
Gloucester being there, to be satisfied of the truth of the miracle,
asked the man, What colour is this? who, by answering, it was green,
discovered himself, and was punished for a counterfeit: for though
by his sight newly received he might distinguish between green, and
red, and all other colours, as well as any that should interrogate
him, yet he could not possibly know at first sight which of them was
called green, or red, or by any other name. By this we may
understand, there be _two kinds_ of knowledge, whereof the _one_ is
nothing else but _sense_, or knowledge _original_, as I have said in
the beginning of the second chapter, and _remembrance_ of the same;
the _other_ is called _science_ or knowledge of the _truth of
propositions_, and how things are called, and is derived from
_understanding_. Both of these sorts are but _experience_; the
former being the experience of the effects of things that work upon
us from _without_; and the latter experience men have from the
proper use of _names_ in language: and all experience being, as I
have said, but remembrance, all knowledge is remembrance: and of the
_former_, the register we keep in books, is called _history_; but
the registers of the _latter_ are called the _sciences_.
[Sidenote: Truth and evidence necessary to knowledge.]
2. There are _two things_ necessarily implied in this word
_knowledge_; the one is _truth_, the other _evidence_; for what is
not truth, can never be known. For, let a man say he knoweth a thing
never so well, if the same shall afterwards appear false, he is
driven to confession, that it was not knowledge, but opinion.
Likewise, if the truth be not evident, though a man holdeth it, yet
is his knowledge thereof no more than theirs who hold the contrary:
for if truth were enough to make it knowledge, all truth were known;
which is not so.
[Sidenote: Evidence defined.]
3. What _truth_ is, hath been defined in the precedent chapter; what
_evidence_ is, I _now_ set down: and it is the concomitance of a
man’s _conception_ with the _words_ that signify such conception in
the act of ratiocination: for when a man reasoneth with his lips
only, to which the mind suggesteth only the beginning, and followeth
not the words of his mouth with the conceptions of his mind, out of
custom of so speaking; though he begin his ratiocination with true
propositions, and proceed with certain syllogisms, and thereby make
always true conclusions; yet are not his conclusions _evident_ to
him, for want of the _concomitance of conception_ with his words:
for if the words alone were sufficient, a _parrot_ might be taught
as well to know truth, as to speak it. Evidence is to truth, as the
sap to the tree, which, so far as it creepeth along with the body
and branches, keepeth them alive; where it forsaketh them, they die:
for this evidence, which is meaning with our words, is the life of
truth.
[Sidenote: Science defined.]
4. Knowledge thereof, which we call _science_, I define to be
_evidence of truth_, from some beginning or principle of _sense_:
for the truth of a proposition is never evident, until we conceive
the meaning of the words or terms whereof it consisteth, which are
always conceptions of the mind: nor can we remember those
conceptions, without the thing that produced the same by our senses.
The _first_ principle of knowledge is, that we have such and such
_conceptions_; the _second_, that we have thus and thus _named_ the
things whereof they are conceptions; the _third_ is, that we have
_joined_ those _names_ in such manner as to make true propositions;
the _fourth_ and last is, that we have _joined_ those _propositions_
in such manner as they be concluding, and the truth of the
conclusion said to be known. And of these two kinds of knowledge,
whereof the former is _experience of fact_, and the latter _evidence
of truth_; as the _former_, if it be great, is called _prudence_; so
the _latter_, if it be much, hath usually been called, both by
ancient and modern writers, _sapience_ or wisdom: and of this
_latter_, _man_ only is capable; of the _former_, _brute beasts_
also participate.
[Sidenote: Supposition defined.]
5. A proposition is said to be _supposed_, when, being _not
evident_, it is nevertheless _admitted for a time_, to the end,
that, joining to it other propositions, we may _conclude_ something;
and to _proceed_ from conclusion to conclusion, for a _trial_
whether the same will lead us into any _absurd_ or impossible
conclusion; which if it _do_, then we know such supposition to have
been false.
[Sidenote: Opinion defined.]
6. But if running through _many_ conclusions, we come to _none_ that
are _absurd_, then we think the proposition _probable_; likewise we
think probable whatsoever proposition we _admit_ for truth by error
of reasoning, or from trusting to other men: and all such
propositions as are admitted by _trust_ or error, we are not said to
_know_, but to _think_ them to be true; and the admittance of them
is called _opinion_.
[Sidenote: Belief defined.]
7. And particularly, when the opinion is admitted out of _trust_ to
_other_ men, they are said to _believe_ it; and their admittance of
it is called _belief_, and sometimes _faith_.
[Sidenote: Conscience defined.]
8. It is either _science_ or _opinion_ which we commonly mean by the
word _conscience_: for men say that such and such a thing is true in
or upon their conscience; which they _never_ do, when they think it
_doubtful_; and therefore they _know_, or _think_ they know it to be
true. But men, when they say things upon their conscience, are not
therefore presumed certainly to know the truth of what they say; it
remaineth then, that that word is used by them that have an
_opinion_, _not_ only of the _truth_ of the thing, _but_ also of
their _knowledge_ of it, to which the _truth_ of the proposition is
consequent. _Conscience_ I therefore define to be _opinion of
evidence_.
[Sidenote: Belief, in some cases, no less from doubt than
knowledge.]
9. _Belief_, which is the admitting of propositions upon _trust_, in
many cases is no less free from _doubt_, than perfect and manifest
_knowledge_: for as there is nothing whereof there is not some
cause; so, when there is doubt, there must be some cause thereof
conceived. Now there be many things which we receive from _report of
others_, of which it is impossible to imagine any cause of _doubt_:
for what can be opposed against the consent of all men, in things
they can know, and have no cause to report otherwise than they are,
such as is a great part of our _histories_, unless a man would say
that all the world had _conspired_ to deceive him.
And thus much of _sense_, _imagination_, _discursion_,
_ratiocination_, and _knowledge_, which are the acts of our _power
cognitive_, or _conceptive_. That power of the _mind_ which we call
_motive_, differeth from the power _motive_ of the _body_; for the
power _motive_ of the _body_ is that by which it _moveth other_
bodies, and we call _strength_: but the power motive of the _mind_,
is that by which the mind giveth _animal motion_ to that _body_
wherein it existeth; the acts hereof are our _affections_ and
_passions_, of which I am to speak in general.
-------
CHAPTER VII.
1. Of delight, pain, love, hatred. 2. Appetite, aversion, fear. 3.
Good, evil, pulchritude, turpitude. 4. End, fruition. 5.
Profitable, use, vain. 6. Felicity. 7. Good and evil mixed. 8.
Sensual delight, and pain; joy and grief.
[Sidenote: Of delight, pain, love, hatred.]
1. In the eighth section of the second chapter is shewed, _that
conceptions_ and _apparitions_ are nothing _really_, but _motion_ in
some internal substance of the _head_; which motion _not stopping_
there, but proceeding to the _heart_, of necessity must there either
_help_ or _hinder_ the motion which is called _vital_; when it
_helpeth_, it is called _delight_, _contentment_, or _pleasure_,
which is nothing really but motion about the heart, as conception is
nothing but motion in the head: and the _objects_ that cause it are
called _pleasant_ or _delightful_, or by some name equivalent; the
Latins have _jucundum_, _a juvando_, from helping; and the same
delight, with reference to the object, is called _love_: but when
such motion _weakeneth_ or hindereth the vital motion, then it is
called _pain_; and in relation to that which causeth it, hatred,
which the Latins express sometimes by _odium_, and sometimes by
_tædium_.
[Sidenote: Appetite, aversion, fear.]
2. This motion, in which consisteth _pleasure_ or _pain_, is also a
_solicitation_ or provocation either to draw _near_ to the thing
that pleaseth, or to _retire_ from the thing that displeaseth; and
this solicitation is the _endeavour_ or internal beginning of
_animal_ motion, which when the object _delighteth_, is called
_appetite_; when it _displeaseth_, it is called _aversion_, in
respect of the displeasure _present_; but in respect of the
displeasure _expected_, _fear_. So that _pleasure_, _love_, and
_appetite_, which is also called desire, are _divers names_ for
divers considerations of the _same thing_.
[Sidenote: Good, evil, pulchritude, turpitude.]
3. Every man, for his own part, calleth that which _pleaseth_, and
is delightful to himself, _good_; and that _evil_ which
_displeaseth_ him: insomuch that while every man _differeth_ from
another in _constitution_, they differ also from one another
concerning the common distinction of good and evil. Nor is there any
such thing as absolute goodness, considered without relation: for
even the goodness which we apprehend in God Almighty, is _his
goodness to us_. And as we call _good_ and _evil_ the _things_ that
please and displease; so call we _goodness_ and _badness_, the
_qualities_ or powers whereby they do it: and the signs of that
goodness are called by the Latins in one word _pulchritudo_, and the
signs of evil, _turpitudo_; to which we have no words precisely
answerable.
As all conceptions we have immediately by the _sense_, are,
_delight_, or _pain_, or _appetite_, or _fear_; so are all the
_imaginations_ after sense. But as they are weaker imaginations, so
are they also weaker pleasures, or weaker pain.
[Sidenote: End, fruition.]
4. As _appetite_ is the beginning of _animal_ motion towards
something that pleaseth us; so is the _attaining_ thereof, the _end_
of that motion, which we also call the _scope_, and aim, and final
cause of the same: and when we attain that end, the delight we have
thereby is called the _fruition_: so that _bonum_ and _finis_ are
different names, but for different considerations of the same thing.
[Sidenote: Profitable, use, vain.]
5. And of _ends_, some of them are called _propinqui_, that is, near
at hand; others _remoti_, far off: but when the ends that be nearer
attaining, be compared with those that be further off, they are
called not ends, but _means_, and the _way_ to those. But for an
_utmost_ end, in which the ancient _philosophers_ have placed
_felicity_, and disputed much concerning the way thereto, there is
no such thing in this world, nor way to it, more than to Utopia: for
while we live, we have desires, and desire presupposeth a further
end. Those things which please us, as the way or _means_ to a
further end, we call _profitable_; and the _fruition_ of them,
_use_; and those things that profit not, _vain_.
[Sidenote: Felicity.]
6. Seeing all _delight_ is _appetite_, and presupposeth a _further_
end, there can be _no contentment_ but in _proceeding_: and
therefore we are not to marvel, when we see, that as men attain to
more riches, honour, or other power; so their appetite continually
groweth more and more; and when they are come to the utmost degree
of some kind of power, they pursue some other, as long as in any
kind they think themselves behind any other: of those therefore that
have attained to the highest degree of honour and riches, some have
affected mastery in some art; as Nero in music and poetry, Commodus
in the art of a gladiator; and such as affect not some such thing,
must find diversion and recreation of their thoughts in the
contention either of play or business: and men justly complain of a
great grief, that they know not what to do. _Felicity_, therefore,
by which we mean continual delight, consisteth _not_ in _having_
prospered, but in _prospering_.
[Sidenote: Good and evil mixed.]
7. There are few things in this world, but _either_ have _mixture_
of good and evil, _or_ there is a chain of them so necessarily
linked together, that the one cannot be taken without the other: as
for example, the pleasures of sin, and the bitterness of punishment,
are inseparable; as is also labour and honour, for the most part.
Now when in the _whole chain_, the _greater part_ is good, the
_whole_ is called _good_; and when the _evil_ over-weigheth, the
_whole_ is called _evil_.
[Sidenote: Sensual delight, and pain; joy and grief.]
8. There are two sorts of pleasure, whereof the _one_ seemeth to
affect the _corporeal_ organ of the sense, and that I call
_sensual_; the _greatest_ part whereof, is that by which we are
invited to give continuance to our _species_; and the _next_, by
which a man is invited to meat, for the preservation of his
_individual_ person: the _other sort_ of delight is not particular
to any part of the body, and is called the delight of the _mind_,
and is that which we call _joy_. Likewise of _pains_, some affect
the _body_, and are therefore called the _pains_ of the body; and
some _not_, and those are called _grief_.
-------
CHAPTER VIII.
1, 2. Wherein consist the pleasures of sense. 3, 4. Of the
imagination, or conception of power in man. 5. Honour,
honourable, worth. 6. Signs of honour. 7. Reverence. 8.
Passions.
[Sidenote: Wherein consist the pleasures of sense.]
1. Having in the first section of the precedent chapter presupposed,
that motion and _agitation of the brain_ which we call conception,
to be continued _to the heart_, and there to be called _passion_; I
have therefore obliged myself, as far forth as I am able, to search
out and declare _from what_ conception _proceedeth_ every one of
those _passions_ which we commonly take notice of: for, seeing the
things that please and displease, are innumerable, and work
innumerable ways, men have not taken notice but of a very few, which
also are many of them without name.
2. And first, we are to consider, that of conceptions there are
_three sorts_, whereof one is of that which is _present_, which is
_sense_; another, of that which is _past_, which is _remembrance_;
and the third, of that which is _future_, which we call
_expectation_: all which have been manifestly declared in the second
and third chapters; and every of these conceptions is _pleasure_ or
_pain_ _present_. And first for the pleasures of the _body_ which
affect the sense of _touch_ and _taste_, as far forth as they be
_organical_, their conceptions are _sense_: so also is the pleasure
of all _exonerations_ of nature: all which passions I have before
named, _sensual pleasures_; and their contrary, _sensual pains_: to
which also may be added the pleasures and displeasures of _odours_,
if any of them shall be found organical, which for the most part
they are not, as appeareth by this experience which every man hath,
that the same smells, when they seem to proceed from others,
displease, though they proceed from ourselves; but when we think
they proceed from ourselves, they displease not, though they come
from others: the displeasure of this is a conception of hurt thereby
from those odours, as being unwholesome, and is therefore a
conception of evil to come, and not present. Concerning the delight
of _hearing_, it is diverse, and the organ itself not affected
thereby: _simple sounds_ please by _equality_, as the sound of a
bell or lute: insomuch as it seems, an equality continued by the
percussion of the object upon the ear, is pleasure; the contrary is
called _harshness_, such as is grating, and some other sounds, which
do not always affect the body, but only sometime, and that with a
kind of horror beginning at the teeth. _Harmony_, or many sounds
together agreeing, please by the same reason as the _unison_, which
is the sound of equal strings equally stretched. Sounds that differ
in any _height_, please by _inequality and equality alternate_, that
is to say, the higher note striketh twice, for one stroke of the
other, whereby they strike together every second time; as is well
proved by Galileo, in the first dialogue concerning local motion:
where he also sheweth, that two sounds differing a _fifth_, delight
the ear by an _equality_ of striking _after two inequalities_; for
the higher note striketh the ear thrice, while the other strikes but
twice. In like manner he sheweth wherein consisteth the pleasure of
concord, and the displeasure of discord, in other difference of
notes. There is yet _another_ pleasure and displeasure of sounds,
which consisteth in _consequence of one note after another,
diversified_ both by _accent_ and _measure_; whereof that which
pleaseth is called an _air_; but for what reason one succession in
tone and measure is a more pleasing air than another, I confess I
know not; but I conjecture the reason to be, for that some of them
imitate and revive some passion which otherwise we take no notice
of, and the other not; for _no air pleaseth but for a time_, no more
doth imitation. Also the pleasures of the _eye_ consist in a certain
_equality_ of _colour_: for _light_, the most glorious of all
colours, is made by _equal_ operation of the object; whereas
_colour_ is _perturbed_, that is to say, unequal light, as hath been
said, chapter II. section 8. And therefore colours, the more
equality is in them, the more resplendent they are; and as _harmony_
is pleasure to the _ear_, which consisteth of _divers sounds_; so
perhaps may some mixture of _divers colours_ be _harmony_ to the
_eye_, more than another mixture. There is yet another delight by
the _ear_, which happeneth only to men of skill in music, which is
of another nature, and not, as these, conception of the present, but
rejoicing of their own skill; of which nature are the passions of
which I am to speak next.
[Sidenote: Of the imagination, or conception of power in man.]
3. Conception of the _future_, is but a _supposition_ of the _same_,
proceeding from _remembrance_ of what is past; and we so far
_conceive_ that anything _will be hereafter_, as we _know_ there is
_something at the present_ that hath power to produce it: and that
anything hath power now to produce another thing hereafter, we
cannot conceive, but by remembrance that it hath produced the like
heretofore. Wherefore all conception of future, is conception of
power able to produce something. Whosoever therefore expecteth
pleasure to come, must conceive withal some power in himself by
which the same may be attained. And because the passions, whereof I
am to speak next, consist in conception of the future, that is to
say, in conception of power past, and the act to come; before I go
any further, I must in the next place speak somewhat concerning this
power.
4. By this power I mean the same with the faculties of the _body_,
_nutritive_, _generative_, _motive_, and of the _mind_, _knowledge_;
and besides these, such _further_ power as by them is acquired,
_viz._ _riches_, _place_ of authority, _friendship_ or _favour_, and
_good fortune_; _which_ last is really nothing else but the favour
of God Almighty. The _contraries_ of these are _impotencies_,
_infirmities_, or _defects_ of the said powers respectively. And
because the power of one man resisteth and hindereth the effects of
the power of another, _power_ simply is no more, but the _excess_ of
the power of one above that of another: for equal powers opposed,
destroy one another; and such their opposition is called contention.
[Sidenote: Honour, honourable, worth.]
5. _signs_ by which we know our own _power_, are those _actions_
which proceed from the same; and the signs by which _other men_ know
it, are such _actions_, _gesture_, _countenance_ and _speech_, as
usually such powers produce: and the _acknowledgment_ of power is
called _honour_; and to honour a man inwardly, is to conceive or
acknowledge that that man hath the odds or excess of that power
above him with whom he contendeth or compareth himself. And
honourable are those signs for which one man acknowledgeth power or
excess above his concurrent in another: as for example, _beauty_ of
person, consisting in a lively aspect of the countenance, and other
_signs_ of _natural heat_, are honourable, being signs precedent of
power _generative_, and much issue; as also, general reputation
among those of the other sex, because signs consequent of the same.
And actions proceeding from _strength of body_, and open force, are
honourable, as signs consequent of power _motive_, such as are
victory in battle or duel; _a d’avoir tué son homme_. Also to
adventure upon great exploits and danger, as being a sign consequent
of opinion of our own strength, and that opinion a sign of the
strength itself. And to teach or persuade are honourable, because
they be signs of _knowledge_. And riches are honourable; as signs of
the power that acquired them: and gifts, cost, and magnificence of
houses, apparel, and the like, are honourable, as signs of riches.
And _nobility_ is honourable by reflection, as a sign of power in
the ancestors: and _authority_, because a sign of the strength,
wisdom, favour or riches by which it is attained. And _good fortune_
or casual prosperity is honourable, because a sign of the favour of
God, to whom is to be ascribed all that cometh to us by fortune, no
less than that we attain unto by industry. And the contraries and
defects of these signs are dishonourable; and according to the signs
of honour and dishonour, so we estimate and make the value or worth
of a man: for so much worth is every thing, as a man will give for
the use of all it can do.
[Sidenote: Signs of honour.]
6. The _signs_ of _honour_ are those by which we perceive that one
man acknowledgeth the power and worth of another; such as these, to
_praise_, to _magnify_, to _bless_, to call happy, to pray or
supplicate to, to thank, to offer unto or present, to obey, to
hearken unto with attention, to speak to with consideration, to
approach unto in decent manner, to keep distance from, to give way
to, and the like, which are the honour the inferior giveth to the
superior.
But the _signs of honour_ from the superior to the inferior, are
such as these; to _praise_ or prefer him before his concurrent, to
hear more willingly, to speak to him more familiarly, to admit him
nearer, to employ him rather, to ask his advice rather, to take his
opinions, and to give him _any gifts rather than money_; or if
money, so much as may _not_ imply his _need_ of a _little_: for need
of a little is greater poverty than need of much. And this is enough
for examples of the signs of honour and power.
[Sidenote: Reverence.]
7. _Reverence_ is the conception we have concerning another, that he
hath the _power_ to do unto us both _good_ and _hurt_, but _not_ the
_will_ to do us _hurt_.
[Sidenote: Passions.]
8. In the pleasure men have, or displeasure from the signs of honour
or dishonour done unto them, consisteth the nature of the passions,
whereof we are to speak in the next chapter.
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CHAPTER IX.
1. Glory aspiring, false glory, vain glory. 2. Humility and
dejection. 3. Shame. 4. Courage. 5. Anger. 6. Revengefulness. 7.
Repentance. 8. Hope, despair, diffidence. 9. Trust. 10. Pity and
hardness of heart. 11. Indignation. 12. Emulation and envy. 13.
Laughter. 14. Weeping. 15. Lust. 16. Love. 17. Charity. 18.
Admiration and curiosity. 19. Of the passion of them that flock
to see danger. 20. Of magnanimity and pusillanimity. 21. A view
of the passions represented in a race.
[Sidenote: Glory aspiring, false glory, vain glory.]
1. Glory, or internal gloriation or triumph of the mind, is the
passion which proceedeth from the imagination or conception of our
_own power_ above the power of him that contendeth with us; the
_signs_ whereof, besides those in the countenance, and other
gestures of the body which cannot be described, are, _ostentation_
in words, and _insolency_ in actions: and this passion, of them whom
it displeaseth, is called _pride_; by them whom it pleaseth, it is
termed a _just valuation_ of himself. This imagination of our power
or worth, may be from an assured and certain _experience_ of our own
actions; and then is that glory _just_, and well grounded, and
begetteth an opinion of _increasing_ the same by other actions to
follow; in which consisteth the appetite which we call _aspiring_,
or proceeding from one degree of power to another. The same passion
may proceed _not_ from any _conscience_ of our own actions, but from
fame and trust of _others_, whereby one may think well of himself,
and yet be deceived; and this is _false glory_, and the aspiring
consequent thereto procureth ill success. Further, the _fiction_,
which is also imagination, of actions done by ourselves, which never
were done, is _glorying_; but because it begetteth no appetite nor
endeavour to any further attempt, it is merely _vain_ and
unprofitable; as when a man imagineth himself to do the actions
whereof he readeth in some _romance_, or to be like unto some other
man whose acts he admireth: and this is called _vain glory_; and is
exemplified in the fable, by the fly sitting on the axletree, and
saying to himself, What a dust do I make rise! The expression of
_vain glory_ is that wish, which some of the Schools mistaking for
some appetite distinct from all the rest, have called _velleity_,
making a new word, as they made a new passion which was not before.
_Signs_ of _vain glory_ in the _gesture_ are, _imitation_ of others,
counterfeiting and usurping the signs of virtue they have not,
affectation of fashions, captation of honour from their dreams, and
other little stories of themselves, from their country, from their
names, and from the like.
[Sidenote: Humility and dejection.]
2. The passion _contrary to glory_, proceeding from apprehension of
our own infirmity, is called _humility_ by those by whom it is
approved; by the rest, _dejection_ and poorness: which conception
may be well or ill grounded; if well, it produceth fear to attempt
any thing rashly; if ill, it utterly cows a man, that he neither
dares speak publicly, nor expect good success in any action.
[Sidenote: Shame.]
3. It happeneth sometimes, that he that hath a _good_ opinion of
himself, and upon good ground, may nevertheless, by reason of the
_frowardness_ which that passion begetteth, discover in himself some
_defect_ or infirmity, the remembrance whereof dejecteth him; and
this passion is called _shame_; by which being cooled and checked in
his frowardness, he is more wary for the time to come. This passion,
as it is a sign of _infirmity_, which is _dishonour_; so also it is
a sign of _knowledge_, which is _honour_. The sign of it is
_blushing_, which appeareth less in men conscious of their own
defect, because they less betray the infirmities they acknowledge.
[Sidenote: Courage.]
4. _Courage_, in a _large_ signification, is the _absence_ of _fear_
in the presence of any evil whatsoever: but in a _strict_ and more
common meaning, it is _contempt_ of _wounds_ and _death_, when they
oppose a man in the way to his end.
[Sidenote: Anger.]
5. _Anger_ or sudden courage is nothing but the _appetite_ or desire
of _overcoming present_ opposition. It hath been defined commonly to
be grief proceeding from an opinion of contempt; which is confuted
by the often experience which we have of being moved to anger by
things inanimate, and without sense, and consequently incapable of
contemning us.
[Sidenote: Revengefulness.]
6. _Revengefulness_ is that passion which ariseth from an
expectation or _imagination_ of _making_ him that hath _hurt_ us,
_find_ his _own action hurtful_ to himself, and to _acknowledge_ the
same; and this is the height of revenge: for though it be not hard,
by returning evil for evil, to make one’s adversary displeased with
his own fact; yet to make him acknowledge the same, is so difficult,
that many a man had rather die than do it. Revenge aimeth not at the
death, but at the captivity or subjection of an enemy; which was
well expressed in the exclamation of Tiberius Cæsar, concerning one,
that, to frustrate his revenge, had killed himself in prison; _Hath
he escaped me?_ To _kill_, is the aim of them that _hate_, to _rid_
themselves out of fear: _revenge_ aimeth at _triumph_, which over
the dead is not.
[Sidenote: Repentance.]
7. _Repentance_ is the passion which proceedeth from _opinion_ or
knowledge that the _action_ they have done is _out of the way_ to
the _end_ they would attain: the effect whereof is, to pursue that
way no longer, but, by the consideration of the end, to direct
themselves into a better. The first motion therefore in this passion
is _grief_; but the expectation or conception of returning again
into the way, is _joy_; and consequently, the passion of
_repentance_ is compounded and allayed of both: but the
_predominant_ is _joy_; else were the whole grief, which cannot be,
forasmuch as he that proceedeth towards the end, he conceiveth good,
proceedeth with appetite; and appetite is joy, as hath been said,
chapter VII. section 2.
[Sidenote: Hope, despair, diffidence.]
8. _Hope_ is _expectation_ of _good_ to come, as fear is the
expectation of evil: but when there be causes, some that make us
expect good, and some that make us expect evil, alternately working
in our mind; if the causes that make us expect good, be greater than
those that make us expect evil, the whole passion is hope; if
contrarily, the whole is fear. Absolute _privation_ of hope is
_despair_, a degree whereof is _diffidence_.
[Sidenote: Trust.]
9. _Trust_ is a passion proceeding from the _belief of_ him from
whom we _expect_ or _hope_ for good, so _free_ from _doubt_ that
upon the same we pursue no other way to attain the same good; as
_distrust_ or diffidence is _doubt_ that maketh him endeavour to
provide himself by other means. And that this is the meaning of the
words trust and distrust, is manifest from this, that a man never
provideth himself by a second way, but when he mistrusteth that the
first will not hold.
[Sidenote: Pity and hardness of heart.]
10. _Pity_ is _imagination_ or _fiction_ of _future_ calamity to
_ourselves_, proceeding from the sense of _another_ man’s calamity.
But when it lighteth on such as we think have not deserved the same,
the compassion is greater, because then there appeareth more
probability that the same may happen to us: for, the evil that
happeneth to an innocent man, may happen to every man. But when we
see a man suffer for great crimes, which we cannot easily think will
fall upon ourselves, the pity is the less. And therefore men are apt
to pity those whom they love: for, whom they love, they think worthy
of good, and therefore not worthy of calamity. Thence it is also,
that men pity the vices of some persons at the first sight only, out
of love to their aspect. The contrary of pity is _hardness of
heart_, proceeding either from _slowness_ of imagination, or some
extreme great _opinion_ of their own _exemption_ from the like
calamity, or from hatred of all or most men.
[Sidenote: Indignation.]
11. _Indignation_ is that _grief_ which consisteth in the conception
of _good success_ happening to them whom they think _unworthy_
thereof. Seeing therefore men think all those unworthy whom they
hate, they think them not only unworthy of the good fortune they
have, but also of their own virtues. And of all the passions of the
mind, these two, indignation and pity, are most raised and increased
by eloquence: for, the _aggravation_ of _the calamity_, and
_extenuation_ of the _fault_, augmenteth _pity_; and the
_extenuation_ of the _worth_ of the person, together with the
magnifying of his success, which are the parts of an orator, are
able to turn these two passions into _fury_.
[Sidenote: Emulation and envy.]
12. _Emulation_ is _grief_ arising from seeing _one’s self exceeded_
or excelled by his _concurrent_, together with _hope_ to _equal_ or
exceed him in time to come, by his own ability. But, _envy_ is the
same _grief_ joined with _pleasure_ conceived in the imagination of
some _ill_ fortune that may befall him.
[Sidenote: Laughter.]
13. There is a passion that hath _no name_; but the sign of it is
that distortion of the countenance which we call _laughter_, which
is always _joy_: but what joy, what we think, and wherein we triumph
when we laugh, is not hitherto declared by any. That it consisteth
in _wit_, or, as they call it, in the _jest_, experience
_confuteth_: for men laugh at mischances and indecencies, wherein
there lieth no wit nor jest at all. And forasmuch as the same thing
is no more ridiculous when it groweth stale or usual, whatsoever it
be that moveth laughter, it must be _new_ and _unexpected_. Men
laugh often, especially such as are greedy of applause from every
thing they do well, at their own actions performed never so little
beyond their own expectations; as also at their own _jests_: and in
this case it is manifest, that the passion of laughter proceedeth
from a _sudden conception_ of some _ability_ in himself that
laugheth. Also men laugh at the _infirmities_ of others, by
comparison wherewith their own abilities are set off and
illustrated. Also men laugh at _jests_, the _wit_ whereof always
consisteth in the elegant _discovering_ and conveying to our minds
some _absurdity_ of _another_: and in this case also the passion of
laughter proceedeth from the _sudden_ imagination of our own odds
and eminency: for what is else the recommending of ourselves to our
own good opinion, by comparison with another man’s infirmity or
absurdity? For when a jest is broken upon ourselves, or friends of
whose dishonour we participate, we never laugh thereat. I may
therefore conclude, that the passion of laughter is nothing else but
_sudden glory_ arising from some sudden _conception_ of some
_eminency_ in ourselves, by _comparison_ with the _infirmity_ of
others, or with our own formerly: for men laugh at the follies of
themselves past, when they come suddenly to remembrance, except they
bring with them any present dishonour. It is no wonder therefore
that men take heinously to be laughed at or derided, that is,
triumphed over. Laughter _without offence_, must be at _absurdities_
and infirmities _abstracted_ from persons, and when all the company
may laugh together: for laughing to one’s-self putteth all the rest
into jealousy and examination of themselves. Besides, it is vain
glory, and an argument of little worth, to think the infirmity of
another, sufficient matter for his triumph.
[Sidenote: Weeping.]
14. The passion opposite hereunto, whose signs are another
distortion of the face with tears, called _weeping_, is the _sudden
falling out with_ ourselves, or sudden conception of defect; and
therefore _children_ weep often; for seeing they think that every
thing ought to be given them which they desire, of necessity every
repulse must be a check of their expectation, and puts them in mind
of their too much weakness to make themselves masters of all they
look for. For the same cause _women_ are more apt to weep than men,
as being not only more accustomed to have their wills, but also to
measure their powers by the power and love of others that protect
them. Men are apt to weep that prosecute revenge, when the revenge
is suddenly stopped or frustrated by the repentance of their
adversary; and such are the tears of _reconciliation_. Also
revengeful men are subject to this passion upon the beholding those
men they pity, and suddenly remember they cannot help. Other weeping
in men proceedeth for the most part from the same cause it
proceedeth from in women and children.
[Sidenote: Lust.]
15. The appetite which men call _lust_, and the fruition that
appertaineth thereunto, is a _sensual_ pleasure, but _not only_
that; there is in it also a delight of the mind: for it consisteth
of two appetites together, to _please_, and to _be pleased_; and the
delight men take in delighting, is not sensual, but a pleasure or
joy of the mind consisting in the imagination of the power they have
so much to please. But the name _lust_ is used where it is
condemned; otherwise it is called by the general word _love_: for
the passion is one and the same indefinite desire of different sex,
as natural as hunger.
[Sidenote: Love.]
16. Of _love_, by which is understood the joy man taketh in the
fruition of any _present_ good, hath been already spoken of in the
first section, chapter VII. under which is contained the _love_ men
bear to one _another_, or pleasure they take in one another’s
company; and by which nature, men are said to be sociable. But there
is another kind of love, which the Greeks call Ἔρως, and is that
which we mean, when we say that a man is in love: forasmuch as this
passion cannot be without diversity of sex, it cannot be denied but
that it _participateth_ of that indefinite _love_ mentioned in the
former section. But there is a great difference betwixt the desire
of a man _indefinite_, and the same desire _limited ad hunc_; and
this is that _love_ which is the great theme of poets: but
notwithstanding their praises, it must be defined by the word
_need_: for it is a conception a man hath of his need of _that one
person_ desired. The cause of this passion is _not_ always _nor_ for
the most part _beauty_, or other quality in the beloved, unless
there be withal _hope_ in the person that loveth: which may be
gathered from this, that in great difference of persons, the
_greater_ have often fallen in love with the _meaner_; but not
contrary. And from hence it is, that for the most part they have
much better fortune in love, whose hopes are built upon something
_in_ _their person_, than those that trust to their _expressions_
and _service_; and they that _care less_, than they that _care
more_: which not perceiving, many men cast away their services, as
one arrow after another, till, in the end, together with their
hopes, they lose their wits.
[Sidenote: Charity.]
17. There is yet another passion sometimes called _love_, but more
properly _good will_ or _charity_. There can be no greater argument
to a man, of his own power, than to find himself able not only to
accomplish his own desires, but also to _assist_ other men in
theirs: and this is that conception wherein consisteth _charity_. In
which, first, is contained that _natural affection_ of parents to
their children, which the Greeks call Στοργὴ, as _also_, that
affection wherewith men seek to _assist_ those that adhere unto
them. But the affection wherewith men many times bestow their
benefits on _strangers_, is not to be called charity, but either
_contract_, whereby they seek to purchase friendship; or _fear_,
which maketh them to purchase peace. The opinion of Plato concerning
honourable love, delivered according to his custom in the person of
Socrates, in the dialogue intituled _Convivium_, is this, that a man
full and pregnant with wisdom and other virtues, naturally seeketh
out some beautiful person, of age and capacity to conceive, in whom
he may, without sensual respects, engender and produce the like. And
this is the _idea_ of the then noted _love_ of Socrates wise and
continent, to Alcibiades young and beautiful: in which, love is not
the sought honour, but the issue of his knowledge; contrary to the
common love, to which though issue sometimes follows, yet men seek
not that, but to please, and to be pleased. It should be therefore
this charity, or desire to assist and advance others. But why then
should the wise seek the ignorant, or be more charitable to the
beautiful than to others? There is something in it savouring of the
use of that time: in which matter though Socrates be acknowledged
for continent, yet the _continent_ have the passion they _contain_,
as _much_ and more than they that _satiate_ the appetite; which
maketh me suspect this _platonic_ love for merely sensual; but with
an honourable pretence for the old to haunt the company of the young
and beautiful.
[Sidenote: Admiration and curiosity.]
18. Forasmuch as all _knowledge_ beginneth from _experience_,
therefore also _new experience_ is the beginning of _new knowledge_,
and the increase of experience the beginning of the increase of
knowledge. Whatsoever therefore happeneth new to a man, giveth him
matter of _hope_ of _knowing_ somewhat that he knew _not before_.
And this hope and expectation of future knowledge from anything that
happeneth new and strange, is that passion which we commonly call
_admiration_; and the same considered as appetite, is called
_curiosity_, which is appetite of knowledge. As in the discerning of
faculties, _man leaveth_ all community with _beasts_ at the faculty
of _imposing names_; so also doth he surmount their nature at this
_passion_ of _curiosity_. For when a beast seeth anything new and
strange to him, he considereth it so far only as to discern whether
it be likely to serve his turn, or hurt him, and accordingly
approacheth nearer to it, or fleeth from it: whereas man, who in
most events remembereth in what manner they were caused and begun,
looketh for the cause and beginning of everything that ariseth new
unto him. And from this passion of admiration and curiosity, have
arisen not only the invention of names, but also supposition of such
causes of all things as they thought might produce them. And from
this beginning is derived all _philosophy_; as _astronomy_ from the
admiration of the course of heaven; _natural philosophy_ from the
strange effects of the elements and other bodies. And from the
degrees of curiosity, proceed also the degrees of knowledge amongst
men: for, to a man in the chase of riches or authority, (which in
respect of knowledge are but sensuality) it is a diversity of little
pleasure, whether it be the motion of the sun or the earth that
maketh the day, or to enter into other contemplations of any strange
accident, otherwise than whether it conduce or not to the end he
pursueth. Because _curiosity_ is _delight_, therefore also _novelty_
is so, but especially that novelty from which a man conceiveth an
_opinion_ true or false of _bettering_ his own estate; for, in such
case, they stand affected with the hope that all gamesters have
while the cards are shuffling.
[Sidenote: Of the passion of them that flock to see danger.]
19. Divers other passions there be, but they want names: whereof
some nevertheless have been by most men observed: for example; from
what passion proceedeth it, that men take _pleasure_ to _behold_
from the shore the _danger_ of them that are at sea in a tempest, or
in fight, or from a safe castle to behold two armies charge one
another in the field? It is certainly, in the whole sum, _joy_; else
men would never flock to such a spectacle. Nevertheless there is in
it both _joy_ and _grief_: for as there is novelty and remembrance
of our own security present, which is _delight_; so there is also
_pity_, which is grief; but the delight is so far predominant, that
men usually are content in such a case to be spectators of the
misery of their friends.
[Sidenote: Of magnanimity and pusillanimity.]
20. _Magnanimity_ is no more than _glory_, of the which I have
spoken in the first section; but _glory well grounded_ upon certain
experience of a power sufficient to attain his end in open manner.
And _pusillanimity_ is the _doubt_ of that. Whatsoever therefore is
a sign of _vain glory_, the same is also a sign of _pusillanimity_:
for sufficient power maketh glory a spur to one’s end. To be
_pleased_ or _displeased_ with _fame true_ or _false_, is a _sign_
of that same, because he that relieth on fame hath not his success
in his own power. Likewise _art_ and _fallacy_ are signs of
pusillanimity, because they depend not upon our own power, but the
ignorance of others. Also _proneness_ to _anger_, because it argueth
difficulty of proceeding. Also _ostentation_ of _ancestors_, because
all men are more inclined to make shew of their own power when they
have it, than of another’s. To be at _enmity_ and contention with
_inferiors_, is a sign of the same, because it proceedeth from want
of power to end the war. To _laugh_ at others, because it is an
affectation of glory from other men’s infirmities, and not from any
ability of their own. Also _irresolution_, which proceedeth from
want of power enough to contemn the little difficulties that make
deliberations hard.
[Sidenote: A view of the passions represented in a race.]
21. The comparison of the life of man to a race, though it hold not
in every part, yet it holdeth so well for this our purpose, that we
may thereby both see and remember almost all the passions before
mentioned. But this _race_ we must suppose to have no other _goal_,
nor other _garland_, but being foremost, and in it:
To endeavour, is _appetite_.
To be remiss, is _sensuality_.
To consider them behind, is _glory_.
To consider them before, is _humility_.
To lose ground with looking back, _vain glory_.
To be holden, _hatred_.
To turn back, _repentance_.
To be in breath, _hope_.
To be weary, _despair_.
To endeavour to overtake the next, _emulation_.
To supplant or overthrow, _envy_.
To resolve to break through a stop foreseen, _courage_.
To break through a sudden stop, _anger_.
To break through with ease, _magnanimity_.
To lose ground by little hindrances, _pusillanimity_.
To fall on the sudden, is disposition to _weep_.
To see another fall, is disposition to _laugh_.
To see one out-gone whom we would not, is _pity_.
To see one out-go whom we would not, is _indignation_.
To hold fast by another, is to _love_.
To carry him on that so holdeth, is _charity_.
To hurt one’s-self for haste, is _shame_.
Continually to be out-gone, is _misery_.
Continually to out-go the next before, is _felicity_.
And to forsake the course, is to _die_.
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CHAPTER X.
1. Having shewed in the precedent chapters, that sense proceedeth
from the action of external objects upon the _brain_, or some
internal _substance_ of the _head_; and that the _passions_ proceed
from the alteration there made, and continued to the _heart_: it is
consequent in the next place, seeing the diversity of degrees in
knowledge in divers men, to be greater than may be ascribed to the
divers _tempers_ of their brain, to declare _what other causes_ may
produce such _odds_, and excess of _capacity_, as we daily observe
in one man above another. As for that difference which ariseth from
_sickness_, and such accidental distempers, I omit the same, as
impertinent to this place, and consider it only in such as have
their _health_, and _organs_ well disposed. If the difference were
in the natural temper of the brain, I can imagine no reason why the
same should not appear first and most of all in the senses, which
being equal both in the wise and less wise, infer an equal temper in
the common organ (namely the brain) of all the senses.
2. But we see by experience, that _joy_ and _grief_ proceed _not_ in
_all_ men from the same _causes_, and that men differ very much in
the constitution of the body; whereby, that which helpeth and
furthereth _vital constitution_ in one, and is therefore delightful,
hindereth it and crosseth it in another, and therefore causeth
grief. The _difference_ therefore of _wits_ hath its original _from_
the _different passions_, and from the _ends_ to which the appetite
leadeth them.
3. And first, those men whose ends are _sensual_ delight, and
generally are addicted to _ease_, _food_, _onerations_ and
_exonerations_ of the body, must needs be the _less_ thereby
delighted with those _imaginations_ that _conduce not_ to those
ends, such as are imaginations of _honour_ and _glory_, which, as I
have said before, have respect to the future: for sensuality
consisteth in the pleasure of the senses, which please only for the
present, and take away the inclination to observe such things as
conduce to honour, and consequently maketh men less curious, and
less ambitious, whereby they less consider the way either to
knowledge or other power; in which two consisteth all the excellency
of power cognitive. And this is it which men call _dulness_, and
proceedeth from the appetite of sensual or bodily delight. And it
may well be conjectured, that such passion hath its beginning from a
_grossness_ and _difficulty_ of the _motion_ of the _spirit_ about
the _heart_.
4. The contrary hereunto, is that _quick ranging_ of mind described,
chapter IV. section 3, which is joined with _curiosity_ of comparing
the things that come into the mind, one with another: in which
comparison, a man delighteth himself either with finding unexpected
_similitude_ of things, otherwise much unlike, in which men place
the excellency of _fancy_, and from whence proceed those grateful
similies, metaphors, and other tropes, by which both _poets_ and
_orators_ have it in their power to make things please or displease,
and shew well or ill to others, as they like themselves; or else in
discerning suddenly _dissimilitude_ in things that otherwise appear
the same. And this virtue of the mind is that by which men attain to
exact and perfect _knowledge_; and the pleasure thereof consisteth
in continual instruction, and in distinction of places, persons, and
seasons, and is commonly termed by the name of _judgment_: for, to
judge is nothing else, but to distinguish or discern: and both
_fancy_ and _judgment_ are commonly comprehended under the name of
_wit_, which seemeth to be a tenuity and agility of spirits,
contrary to that restiness of the spirits supposed in those that are
dull.
5. There is another defect of the mind, which men call _levity_,
which betrayeth also _mobility_ in the spirits, but in excess. An
example whereof is in them that in the midst of any serious
discourse, have their minds diverted to every little jest or witty
observation; which maketh them depart from their discourse by a
parenthesis, and from that parenthesis by another, till at length
they either lose themselves, or make their narration like a dream,
or some studied nonsense. The passion from whence this proceedeth,
is _curiosity_, but with _too much equality_ and indifference: for
when all things make equal impression and delight, they equally
throng to be expressed.
6. The virtue opposite to this defect is _gravity_, or steadiness;
in which the end being the great and master-delight, directeth and
keepeth in the way thereto all other thoughts.
7. The _extremity_ of dullness is that _natural folly_ which may be
called _stolidity_: but the extreme of _levity_, though it be
natural folly distinct from the other, and obvious to every man’s
observation, I know _not_ how to call it.
8. There is a fault of the mind called by the Greeks Ἀμαϑια, which
is _indocibility_, or _difficulty_ of being taught; the which must
needs arise from a _false opinion_ that they _know already_ the
truth of that is called in question: for certainly men are not
otherwise so unequal in capacity as the _evidence_ is unequal
between what is taught by the mathematicians, and what is commonly
discoursed of in other books: and therefore if the minds of men were
all of white paper, they would almost equally be disposed to
acknowledge whatsoever should be in right method, and by right
ratiocination delivered to them: but when men have once acquiesced
in untrue opinions, and registered them as authentical records in
their minds, it is no less impossible to speak intelligibly to such
men, than to write legibly upon a paper already scribbled over. The
immediate _cause_ therefore of _indocibility_, is _prejudice_; and
of prejudice, false opinion of our own knowledge.
9. Another, and a principal defect of the mind, is that which men
call _madness_, which appeareth to be nothing else but some
_imagination_ of some such _predominancy_ above the _rest_, that we
have _no passion but from it_; and this conception is nothing else
but excessive _vain glory_, or _vain dejection_; which is most
probable by these examples following, which proceed in appearance
every one of them from _pride_, or some _dejection_ of mind. As
first, we have had the example of one that preached in Cheapside
from a cart there, instead of a pulpit, that he himself was Christ,
which was _spiritual_ pride or madness. We have had also divers
examples of learned madness, in which men have manifestly been
distracted upon any occasion that hath put them in remembrance of
their own ability. Amongst the learned men, may be remembered, I
think also, those that determine of the time of the world’s end, and
other such the points of prophecy. And the gallant madness of Don
Quixote is nothing else but an expression of such height of vain
glory as reading of _romance_ may produce in pusillanimous men. Also
rage and madness of love, are but great indignations of them in
whose brains is predominant contempt from their enemies, or their
mistresses. And the _pride_ taken in _form_ and _behaviour_, hath
made divers men run mad, and to be so accounted, under the name of
fantastic.
10. And as these are the examples of extremities, so also are there
examples too many of the degrees, which may therefore be well
accounted follies; as it is a degree of the _first_, for a man,
without certain evidence, to think himself to be _inspired_, or to
have any other effect of God’s holy spirit than other godly men
have. Of the _second_, for a man continually to speak his mind in a
_cento_ of other men’s Greek or Latin sentences. Of the _third_,
much of the present gallantry in love and duel. Of _rage_, a degree
is _malice_; and of _fantastic_ madness, _affectation_.
11. As the former examples exhibit to us madness, and the degrees
thereof, proceeding from the excess of self-opinion; so also there
be other examples of madness, and the degrees thereof, proceeding
from _too much vain fear_ and _dejection_; as in those melancholy
men that have imagined themselves brittle as glass, or have had some
other like imagination: and degrees hereof are all those exorbitant
and causeless fears, which we commonly observe in melancholy
persons.
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CHAPTER XI.
1. Hitherto of the knowledge of things _natural_, and of the
passions that arise naturally from them. Now forasmuch as we give
names not only to things natural, but also to _supernatural_; and by
all names we ought to have some meaning and conception: it followeth
in the next place, to consider what thoughts and imaginations of the
mind we have, when we take into our mouths the most blessed name of
GOD, and the names of those _virtues_ we attribute unto him; as
also, what _image_ cometh into the mind at hearing the name of
_spirit_, or the name of _angel_, good or bad.
2. And forasmuch as God Almighty is _incomprehensible_, it
followeth, that we can have _no_ conception or _image_ of the
_Deity_, and consequently, all _his attributes_ signify our
_inability_ and defect of power to _conceive_ any thing concerning
his nature, and not any conception of the same, excepting only this,
that _there is a God_: for the effects we acknowledge naturally, do
include a power of their producing, before they were produced; and
that power presupposeth something existent that hath such power: and
the thing so existing with power to produce, if it were not eternal,
must needs have been produced by somewhat before it, and that again
by something else before that, till we come to an eternal, that is
to say, the first power of all powers, and first cause of all
causes: and this is it which all men conceive by the name of GOD,
implying eternity, incomprehensibility, and omnipotency. And thus
all that will consider, may know _that_ God is, though not _what_ he
is: even a man that is born blind, though it be not possible for him
to have any imagination what kind of thing fire is; yet he cannot
but know that somewhat there is that men call fire, because it
warmeth him.
3. And whereas we attribute to God Almighty, _seeing_, _hearing_,
_speaking_, _knowing_, _loving_, and the like, by which names we
understand something in _men_ to whom we attribute them, we
understand _nothing_ by them in the nature of God: for, as it is
well reasoned, _Shall not the God that made the_ _eye, see; and the
ear, hear?_ So it is also, if we say, shall God, which made the eye,
not see without the eye; or that made the ear, not hear without the
ear; or that made the brain, not know without the brain; or that
made the heart, not love without the heart? The _attributes_
therefore given unto the _Deity_, are such as _signify_ either _our
incapacity_ or our _reverence_: our incapacity, when we say
incomprehensible and infinite; our reverence, when we give him those
names, which amongst us are the names of those things we most
magnify and commend, as omnipotent, omniscient, just, merciful, &c.
And when God Almighty giveth those names to himself in the
Scriptures, it is but ἀνϑρωποπαθῶς, that is to say, by descending to
our manner of speaking; without which we are not capable of
understanding him.
4. By the name of _spirit_, we understand a _body natural_, but of
such _subtilty_, that it worketh not upon the senses; but that
filleth up the place which the image of a visible body might fill
up. Our conception therefore of spirit consisteth of _figure without
colour_; and in figure is understood dimension, and consequently, to
conceive a spirit, is to conceive something that hath dimension. But
_spirits supernatural_ commonly signify some _substance without_
dimension; which two words do flatly contradict one another: and
therefore when we attribute the name of spirit unto God, we
attribute it not as the name of anything we conceive, no more than
we ascribe unto him sense and understanding; but as a signification
of our reverence, we desire to abstract from him all corporal
grossness.
5. Concerning other things, which some men call _spirits
incorporeal_, and some _corporeal_, it is not _possible_ by
_natural_ means only, to come to _knowledge_ of so much, as that
_there are such_ things. We that are Christians _acknowledge_ that
there be angels good and evil, and that there are spirits, and that
the soul of a man is a spirit, and that those spirits are immortal:
_but_, to _know_ it, that is to say, to have natural evidence of the
same, it is _impossible_: for, all _evidence_ is _conception_, as it
is said, chap. VI. sect. 3, and all conception is imagination, and
proceedeth from _sense_, chap. III. sect. 1. And _spirits_ we
suppose to be those substances which work _not_ upon the _sense_,
and therefore not conceptible. But though the Scripture acknowledges
spirits, yet doth it nowhere say, that they are incorporeal, meaning
thereby, without dimension and quality; nor, I think, is that word
incorporeal at all in the Bible; but it is said of the spirit, that
it abideth in men; sometimes that it dwelleth in them, sometimes
that it cometh on them, that it descendeth, and goeth, and cometh;
and that spirits are angels, that is to say messengers: all which
words do imply _locality_; and locality is _dimension_; and
whatsoever hath dimension, is _body_, be it never so subtile. To me
therefore it seemeth, that the Scripture favoureth them more, that
hold angels and spirits corporeal, than them that hold the contrary.
And it is a plain _contradiction_ in natural discourse, to say of
the soul of man, that it is _tota in toto, et tota in qualibet parte
corporis_, grounded neither upon reason nor revelation, but
proceeding from the ignorance of what those things are which are
called _spectra_, images, that appear in the dark to children, and
such as have strong fears, and other strange imaginations, as hath
been said, chapter III. sect. 5, where I call them phantasms: for,
taking them to be things real, without us, like bodies, and seeing
them to come and vanish so strangely as they do, unlike to _bodies_;
what could they call them else, but _incorporeal bodies_? which is
not a name, but an absurdity of speech.
6. It is true, that the heathens, and all nations of the world, have
acknowledged that there be _spirits_, which for the most part they
hold to be incorporeal; whereby it might be thought, that a man by
natural reason, may arrive, without the Scriptures, to the knowledge
of this, _that spirits are_: but the erroneous collection thereof by
the heathens, may proceed, as I have said before, from the ignorance
of the cause of ghosts and phantasms, and such other apparitions.
And from thence had the Grecians their number of gods, their number
of _dæmons_ good or bad, and for every man his _genius_; which is
not the acknowledging of this truth, _that spirits are_; but a false
opinion concerning the force of imagination.
7. And seeing the _knowledge_ we have of _spirits_, is _not natural_
knowledge, but _faith_ from supernatural revelation given to the
holy writers of the Scriptures; it followeth, that of inspirations
also, which is the operation of spirit in us, the knowledge which we
have, must all proceed from Scripture. The _signs_ there set down of
_inspiration_, are _miracles_, when they be great, and manifestly
above the power of men to do by imposture: as for example, the
inspiration of Elias was known by the miraculous burning of the
sacrifice. But the _signs_ to _distinguish_ whether a _spirit_ be
_good_ or _evil_, are the same by which we distinguish whether a man
or a tree be good or evil, namely, _actions_ and _fruit_: for there
are _lying_ spirits, wherewith men are inspired sometimes, as well
as with _spirits_ of _truth_. And we are commanded in Scripture, to
judge of the spirits by their doctrine, and not of the doctrine by
the spirits. For miracles, our Saviour (_Matth._ xxiv. 24) hath
forbidden us to rule our faith by them. And Saint Paul saith,
(_Gal._ i. 8): _Though an angel from heaven preach to you
otherwise_, &c. _let him be accursed_. Where it is plain, that we
are not to judge whether the doctrine be true or not, by the angel;
but whether the angel say true or no, by the doctrine. So likewise,
(_1 Joh._ iv. 1): _Believe not every spirit: for false prophets are
gone out into the world_. Verse 2: _Hereby shall ye know the spirit
of God_. Verse 3: _Every spirit that confesseth not that Jesus
Christ is come in the flesh, is not of God: and this is the spirit
of Antichrist_. Verse 15: _Whosoever confesseth that Jesus is the
Son of God, in him dwelleth God, and he in God_. The _knowledge_
therefore we have of _good_ and _evil_ inspiration, cometh _not_ by
_vision_ of an angel that may teach it, _nor_ by a _miracle_ that
may seem to confirm it; _but_ by _conformity_ of doctrine with this
article and fundamental point of Christian faith, which also Saint
Paul (_1 Cor._ iii. 11) saith is the sole foundation, _That Jesus
Christ is come in the flesh_.
8. But if _inspiration_ be discerned by _this_ point, and _this_
point be acknowledged and believed upon the _authority_ of the
_Scriptures_; _how_ (may some men ask) know we that the _Scripture
deserveth_ so great _authority_, which must be no less than that of
the lively voice of God; that is, how do we know the _Scriptures_ to
be the _word of God_? And first, it is manifest, that if by
knowledge we understand science infallible and natural, as is
defined, chap. VI. sect. 4, proceeding from sense, we cannot be said
to know it, because it proceedeth not from the conceptions
engendered by sense. And if we understand knowledge as supernatural,
we cannot have it but by inspiration: and of that _inspiration_ we
cannot judge, but by the _doctrine_: it followeth, that we have not
any way, natural or supernatural, of the _knowledge_ thereof, which
can properly be called _infallible science_ and _evidence_. It
remaineth, that the knowledge that we have that the Scriptures are
the word of God, is only _faith_, which faith therefore is also by
Saint Paul (_Heb._ xi. 1) defined to be _the evidence of things not
seen_; that is to say, not otherwise evident but by faith: for,
whatsoever either is evident by natural reason, or revelation
supernatural, is not called faith; else should not faith cease, no
more than charity, when we are in heaven; which is contrary to the
doctrine of the Scripture. And, we are _not_ said to _believe_,
_but_ to _know_ those things that be _evident_.
9. Seeing then the acknowledgment of Scriptures to be the word of
God, is not evidence, but faith, and faith (chapter VI. sect. 7)
consisteth in the trust we have of other men, it appeareth plain,
that the men so trusted, are the holy men of God’s church succeeding
one another from the time of those that saw the wondrous works of
God Almighty in the flesh. Nor doth this imply that God is not the
worker or efficient cause of faith, or that faith is begotten in man
without the spirit of God: for, all those good opinions which we
admit and believe, though they proceed from hearing, and hearing
from teaching, both which are natural, yet they are the work of God:
for, all the works of nature are his, and they are attributed to the
Spirit of God: as for example, _Exod._ xxviii. 3: _Thou shalt speak
unto all cunning men, whom I have filled with the_ SPIRIT _of
wisdom, that they may make Aaron’s garments for his consecration,
that he may serve me in the priest’s office_. Faith therefore,
wherewith we believe, is the work of the Spirit of God in that
sense, by which the Spirit of God giveth to one man wisdom and
cunning in workmanship more than another; and by which he effecteth
also in other points pertaining to our ordinary life, that one man
believeth that, which, upon the same grounds, another doth not; and
one man reverenceth the opinion, and obeyeth the commands of his
superior, and others not.
10. And seeing our faith, that the Scriptures are the word of God,
began from the confidence and trust we repose in the _church_; there
can be no doubt but that their _interpretation_ of the same
Scriptures (when any doubt or controversy shall arise, by which this
fundamental point, _that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh_, may be
called in question) is _safer_ for any man to trust to, than his
_own_, whether _reasoning_ or _spirit_, that is to say, his own
_opinion_.
11. Now concerning men’s _affections_ to _Godward_, they are not the
same always that are described in the chapter concerning passions.
There, for to love, is to be delighted with the image or conception
of the thing loved; but God is unconceivable: _to love God_
therefore, in the Scripture, is to _obey his commandments_, and to
_love one another_. Also to _trust God_, is different from our
_trusting_ one _another_: for, when a man trusteth a man, (chap. IX.
sect. 9) he layeth aside his own endeavours: but if we do so in our
trust to God Almighty, we disobey him; and how shall we trust to him
whom we know we disobey? To _trust_ to _God Almighty_ therefore, is
to _refer_ to his _good pleasure_ all that is _above our_ own power
to effect: and this is _all one_ with _acknowledging one_ only God,
which is the first commandment. And to trust _in Christ_, is no more
but to acknowledge him for God; which is the fundamental article of
our Christian faith: and consequently, to trust, rely, or, as some
express it, to cast and roll ourselves on Christ, is the same thing
with the fundamental point of faith, namely, that _Jesus Christ is
the son of the living God_.
12. To _honour_ God internally in the heart, is the same thing with
that we ordinarily call honour amongst men: for it is nothing but
the _acknowledging_ of his _power_; and the signs thereof, the same
with the signs of the honour due to our superiors, mentioned chapter
VIII. section 6, viz. to _praise_, to _magnify_, to _bless_, to pray
to him, to thank him, to give oblations and sacrifices to him, to
give attention to his word, to speak to him in prayer with
consideration, to come into his presence with humble gesture, and in
decent manner, and to adorn his worship with magnificence and cost:
and these are natural signs of our honouring him internally: and
therefore the contrary hereof, to neglect prayer, to speak to him
_extempore_, to come to church slovenly, to adorn the place of his
worship worse than our own houses, to take up his name in every idle
discourse, are the manifest signs of contempt of the Divine Majesty.
There be other signs which are arbitrary; as, to be uncovered, as we
be here, to put off their shoes, as Moses at the fiery bush, and
some other of that kind, which in their own nature are indifferent,
till, to avoid indecency and discord, it be otherwise determined by
common consent.
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CHAPTER XII.
1. It hath been declared already, how _external_ objects cause
_conceptions_, and conceptions, _appetite_ and _fear_, which are the
_first unperceived beginnings of our actions_: for _either_ the
actions immediately follow the first appetite, as when we do
anything upon a sudden; _or else_ to our first appetite there
succeedeth some conception of evil to happen to us by such actions,
which is fear, and which holdeth us from proceeding. And to that
fear may succeed a new appetite, and to that appetite another fear
alternately, till the action be either done, or some accident come
between, to make it impossible; and so this alternate appetite and
fear ceaseth. This _alternate succession of appetite and fear_
during all the time the action is in our power to do or not to do,
is that we call _deliberation_; which name hath been given it for
that part of the definition wherein it is said that it lasteth so
long as the action, whereof we deliberate, is in our power: for, so
long we have liberty to do or not to do; and deliberation signifieth
a taking away of our own liberty.
2. _Deliberation_ therefore requireth in the action deliberated _two
conditions_; one, that it be _future_; the other, that there be
_hope_ of doing it, or possibility of not doing it; for, _appetite_
and _fear_ are _expectations_ of the future; and there is no
expectation of good, without hope; or of evil, without possibility:
of _necessaries_ therefore there is _no deliberation_. In
deliberation, the last appetite, as also the last fear, is called
_will_, viz. the last appetite, will to do, or will to omit. It is
all one therefore to say _will_ and _last will_: for, though a man
express his present inclination and appetite concerning the
disposing of his goods, by words or writings; yet shall it not be
counted his will, because he hath still liberty to dispose of them
otherways: but when death taketh away that liberty, then it is his
will.
3. _Voluntary_ actions and omissions are such as have beginning in
the _will_; all other are _involuntary_, or _mixed voluntary_;
_involuntary_, such as he doth by necessity of nature, as when he is
pushed, or falleth, and thereby doth good or hurt to another:
_mixed_, such as participate of both; as when a man is carried to
prison, going is voluntary, to the prison, is involuntary: the
example of him that throweth his goods out of a ship into the sea,
to save his person, is of an action altogether voluntary: for, there
is nothing therein involuntary, but the hardness of the choice,
which is not his action, but the action of the winds: what he
himself doth, is no more against his will, than to flee from danger
is against the will of him that seeth no other means to preserve
himself.
4. _Voluntary_ also are the actions that proceed from sudden
_anger_, or _other_ sudden _appetite_ in such men as can discern
good or evil: for, in them the time precedent _is_ to be judged
deliberation: for then also he deliberateth in what cases it is good
to strike, deride, or do any other action proceeding from anger or
other such sudden passion.
5. _Appetite_, _fear_, _hope_, and the rest of the passions are
_not_ called _voluntary_; for they proceed _not from, but are the
will_; and the will is not voluntary: for, a man can no more say he
will will, than he will will will, and so make an infinite
repetition of the word [_will_]; which is absurd, and insignificant.
6. Forasmuch as _will to do_ is _appetite_, and _will to omit_,
_fear_; the _cause_ of _appetite_ and _fear_ is the _cause_ also of
our _will_: but the propounding of the benefits and of harms, that
is to say, of reward and punishment, is the cause of our appetite,
and of our fears, and therefore also of our wills, so far forth as
we believe that such rewards and benefits as are propounded, shall
arrive unto us; and consequently, our _wills_ follow our _opinions_,
as our _actions_ follow our _wills_; in which sense they say truly,
and properly, that say the world is governed by opinion.
7. When the wills of many concur to one and the same action and
effect, this _concourse_ of their _wills_ is called _consent_; by
which we must not understand one will of many men, for every man
hath his several will, but many wills to the producing of one
effect: but when the _wills_ of two divers men _produce_ such
actions as are reciprocally _resistant_ one to the other, this is
called _contention_; and, being upon the persons one of another,
_battle_: whereas actions proceeding from _consent_, are mutual
_aid_.
8. When many wills are involved or included in the will of one or
more consenting, (which how it may be, shall be hereafter declared)
then is that involving of many wills in one or more, called _union_.
9. In _deliberations_ interrupted, as they may be by _diversion_ of
other business, or by _sleep_, the last _appetite_ of such part of
the deliberation is called _intention_, or _purpose_.
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CHAPTER XIII.
1. Having spoken of the powers and acts of the mind, both cognitive
and motive, considered in every man by _himself, without relation to
others_; it will fall fitly into _this_ chapter, to speak of the
effects of the same power _one upon another_; which effects are also
the signs, by which one taketh notice what another conceiveth and
intendeth. Of these signs, _some_ are such as _cannot_ easily be
_counterfeited_; as actions and gestures, especially if they be
sudden, whereof I have mentioned some; (for example, look in chapter
IX.) with the several passions whereof they are signs: _others_
there are which _may_ be _counterfeited_; and those are _words_ or
_speech_; of the use and effects whereof, I am to speak in this
place.
2. The first use of language, is the _expression_ of our
_conceptions_, that is, the begetting in one another the same
conceptions that we have in ourselves; and this is called
_teaching_; wherein, if the _conception_ of him that teacheth
continually accompany his words, _beginning_ at something true in
_experience_, then it begetteth the like evidence in the hearer that
understandeth them, and maketh him to _know_ something, which he is
therefore said to _learn_: but if there be _not such evidence_, then
such teaching is called _persuasion_, and begetteth no more in the
hearer, than what is in the speaker’s bare _opinion_. And the
_signs_ of two opinions contradictory one to another; namely,
_affirmation_ and _negation_ of the same thing, is called
_controversy_: but _both affirmations_, or both _negations, consent
in opinion_.
3. The _infallible_ sign of _teaching exactly_, and without error,
is this, that _no man_ hath _ever taught_ the _contrary_: not that
few, how few soever, if any; for commonly truth is on the side of
a few, rather than of the multitude: but when in opinions and
questions considered and discussed by many, it happeneth that not
any one of the men that so discussed them differ from another,
then it may be justly inferred, they know what they teach, and
that otherwise they do not. And this appears most manifestly to
them that have considered the divers subjects wherein they have
exercised their pens, and the divers ways in which they have
proceeded, together with the diversity of the success thereof:
for, those men who have taken in hand to consider nothing else but
the comparison of _magnitudes_, _numbers_, _times_, and _motions_,
and how their proportions are to one another, have thereby been
the authors of all those excellencies by which we differ from such
savage people as now inhabit divers places in America; and as have
been the inhabitants heretofore of those countries where at this
day arts and sciences do most flourish: for, from the studies of
these men, have proceeded whatsoever cometh to us for ornament by
_navigation_, and whatsover we have beneficial to human society by
the _division_, _distinction_, and _portraiting the face of the
earth_; whatsoever also we have by the _account of times_, and
_foresight of the course of heaven_; whatsoever by _measuring
distances_, _planes_, and _solids_ of all sorts; and whatsoever
either _elegant_ or _defensible_ in _building_: all which supposed
away, what do we differ from the wildest of the Indians? Yet to
this day was it never heard of, that there was any _controversy_
concerning any conclusion in this subject; the science whereof
hath nevertheless been continually amplified and enriched by the
conclusions of most difficult and profound speculation. The
_reason_ whereof is apparent to every man that looketh into their
writings; for they proceed from most _low_ and _humble_
principles, evident even to the meanest capacity; going on
_slowly_, and with most _scrupulous ratiocination_; viz. from the
imposition of names, they infer the truth of their _first_
propositions; and from two of the first, a _third_; and from any
two of the three, a _fourth_; and so on, according to the steps of
science, mentioned chapter VI. section 4. On the other side, those
men who have written concerning the faculties, passions, and
manners of men, that is to say, of _moral philosophy_, and of
_policy_, _government_, and _laws_, whereof there be infinite
volumes, have been so _far from removing doubt_ and controversy in
the questions they have handled, _that_ they have very much
_multiplied the same_: _nor_ doth any man at this day so much as
pretend to _know_ more than hath been delivered two thousand years
ago by Aristotle: and yet every man thinks that in this subject he
knoweth as much as any other; supposing there needeth thereunto no
study but that accrueth unto them by natural wit; though they
play, or employ their mind otherwise in the purchase of wealth or
place. The reason whereof is no other, than that in their writings
and discourses they take for principles those opinions which are
already vulgarly received, whether true or false; being for the
most part false. There is therefore a great deal of _difference_
between _teaching_ and _persuading_; the sign of _this_ being
_controversy_; the sign of the _former_, _no controversy_.
4. There be _two sorts_ of men that commonly be called _learned_:
one is that sort that proceedeth _evidently_ from humble principles,
as is described in the last section; and those men are called
_mathematici_: _the other_ are they that _take up_ maxims from their
_education_, and from the _authority_ of men, or of custom, and
_take the habitual discourse of the tongue for ratiocination_; and
these are called _dogmatici_. Now seeing in the last section those
we call _mathematici_ are absolved of the crime of breeding
controversy, and they that pretend not to learning cannot be
accused, the fault lieth altogether in the _dogmatics_, that is to
say, those that are imperfectly learned, and with passion press to
have their opinions pass everywhere for truth, without any evident
demonstration either from experience, or from places of Scripture of
uncontroverted interpretation.
5. The expression of those conceptions which _cause_ in us the
_experience_ of good while we deliberate, as also of those which
cause our expectation of evil, is that which we call _counselling_,
and is the internal deliberation of the mind concerning what we
ourselves are to do or not to do. The _consequences_ of our actions
are our _counsellors_, by _alternate succession_ in the mind. So in
the counsel which a man taketh from _other_ men, the _counsellors
alternately_ do _make appear the consequences_ of the action, and do
not any of them deliberate, but furnish among them all, him that is
counselled with arguments whereupon to deliberate with himself.
6. Another use of speech is _expression_ of _appetite_, _intention_,
and _will_; as the appetite of knowledge by _interrogation_;
appetite to have a thing done by another, as _request_, _prayer_,
_petition_: expressions of our purpose or intention, as _promise_,
which is the affirmation or negation of some action to be done in
the future: _threatening_, which is the promise of evil; and
_commanding_, which is that speech by which we signify to another
our _appetite_ or desire _to have_ any _thing done_, or _left
undone_, for reasons contained in the will itself: for it is not
properly said, _Sic volo, sic jubeo_, without that other clause,
_Stet pro ratione voluntas_: and when the command is a sufficient
reason to move us to action, then is that command called a _law_.
7. Another use of speech is _instigation_ and appeasing, by which we
increase or diminish one another’s passion: it is the same thing
with _persuasion_; the difference not being real; for, the begetting
of _opinion_ and _passion_ is the _same_. But whereas in
_persuasion_ we aim at _getting opinion from passion_; _here_, the
end is, _to raise passion from opinion_. And as in raising an
opinion from passion, any premises are good enough to enforce the
desired conclusion; so, in raising passion from opinion, it is no
matter whether the opinion be true or false, or the narration
historical or fabulous; for, _not_ the _truth_, but the _image_,
maketh passion: and a tragedy, well acted, affecteth no less than a
murder.
8. Though words be the _signs_ we have of one another’s _opinions_
and intentions, because the _equivocation_ of them is so _frequent
according_ to the _diversity of contexture_, and of the company
wherewith they go, which, the presence of him that speaketh, our
_sight_ of his _actions_, and _conjecture_ of his _intentions_, must
help to discharge us of; it must therefore be _extremely hard_ to
find the _opinions_ and meaning of those _men_ that are _gone from
us long ago_, and have left us no other signification thereof than
their books, which cannot possibly be understood without _history_,
to discover those aforementioned circumstances, and also without
great prudence to _observe_ them.
9. When it happeneth that a man signifieth unto two _contradictory_
opinions, whereof the _one_ is _clearly_ and directly _signified_,
and the _other_ either _drawn_ from that by _consequence_, or not
known to be contradictory to it; then, when he is not present to
explicate himself better, we are to take the _former_ for his
opinion; for that is clearly signified to be his, and directly;
whereas the other might proceed from error in the deduction, or
ignorance of the repugnancy. The like also is to be held in two
contradictory expressions of a man’s intention and will, for the
same reason.
10. Forasmuch as whosoever _speaketh_ to another, intendeth thereby
to _make_ him _understand_ what he saith, if he speak unto him
either in a language which he that heareth understandeth not, or use
any word in other sense than he believeth is the sense of him that
heareth, he _intendeth also not_ to make him understand what he
saith; which is a _contradiction_ of himself. It is therefore always
to be supposed, that he which intendeth not to deceive, alloweth the
private interpretation of his speech to him to whom it is addressed.
11. _Silence_, in him that _believeth_ that the same shall be taken
for a _sign of his intent_, _is_ a sign thereof indeed: for, if he
did not consent, the labour of speaking so much as to declare the
same, is so little, as it is to be presumed he would have done it.
CONCLUSION.
Thus have we considered the nature of man so far as was requisite
for the finding out the first and most simple elements wherein the
compositions of politic rules and laws are lastly resolved; which
was my present purpose.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
DE CORPORE POLITICO:
OR THE
ELEMENTS OF LAW,
MORAL AND POLITIC,
WITH DISCOURSES UPON SEVERAL HEADS:
AS
OF THE LAW OF NATURE; OF OATHS AND COVENANTS;
OF SEVERAL KINDS OF GOVERNMENT;
WITH
THE CHANGES AND REVOLUTIONS OF THEM.
TO THE READER.
-------
READER,
You may be pleased to take notice, that the first part of this work
depends upon a former treatise of Human Nature, written by Mr.
Hobbes, and by a friend of his committed to the press for the
benefit of mankind. It was thought fit, that nothing of so worthy an
author should be left unprinted, especially considering, that this
piece is most useful for the society of reasonable creatures, being
the grounds and principles of policy, without which there would be
nothing but confusion in the world. I am confident, if men’s minds
were but truly fixed upon the centre of this discourse, they would
not prove such weathercocks, to be turned about with the wind of
every false doctrine, and vain opinion. We should then be free from
those disorders which threaten distraction to the soul, and
destruction to the commonwealth. But let others write never so well,
if our practice do not second their instructions, we may be wise
enough to foresee our misery, but never know how to prevent it. What
pity is it, that such rare conclusions as these are, should produce
no other effect, to inform our knowledge, and confute our
conversation, whilst we neglect the truth that is apprehended. Yet
there is some hope, that such observers, whose wisdom hath received
the stamp of goodness, will improve their skill to a real
advancement of those benefits, which lie hoarded up in this curious
cabinet. To whose use and behoof, these excellent notions are
commended, as the best that ever were writ in this kind, and may
serve for a general ground and foundation to all regular
conceptions, that concern the essence and existence of man, the
government of kingdoms and commonwealths, and by consequence our
eternal salvation.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
DE CORPORE POLITICO.
-------
PART THE FIRST.
-------
CHAPTER I.
1, 2. Men by nature equal. 3. By vain glory indisposed to allow
equality with themselves, to others. 4. Apt to provoke another
by comparisons. 5. Apt to encroach one upon another. 6. Right
defined. 7. Right to the end, implieth right to the means. 8.
Every man his own judge by nature. 9. Every man’s strength and
knowledge for his own use. 10. Every man by nature hath right to
all things. 11. War and peace defined. 12. Men by nature in the
state of war. 13. In manifest inequality might is right. 14.
Reason dictateth peace.
[Sidenote: Men by nature equal.]
1. In a former treatise of human nature already printed, hath been
set forth the whole nature of man, consisting in the powers natural
of his body and mind, and may all be comprehended in these four,
_strength of body_, _experience_, _reason_, and _passion_.
2. In this, it will be expedient to consider in what estate of
security this our nature hath placed us, and what probability it
hath left us, of continuing and preserving ourselves against the
violence of one another. And first, if we consider how little odds
there is of strength or knowledge, between men of mature age, and
with how great facility he that is the weaker in strength or in wit,
or in both, may utterly destroy the power of the stronger; since
there needeth but little force to the taking away of a man’s life,
we may conclude, that men considered in mere nature, ought to admit
amongst themselves equality; and that he that claimeth no more, may
be esteemed moderate.
[Sidenote: By vain glory indisposed to allow equality with
themselves, to others.]
3. On the other side, considering the great difference there is in
men, from the diversity of their passions, how some are vainly
glorious, and hope for precedency and superiority above their
fellows, not only when they are equal in power, but also when they
are inferior; we must needs acknowledge that it must necessarily
follow, that those men who are moderate, and look for no more but
equality of nature, shall be obnoxious to the force of others, that
will attempt to subdue them. And from hence shall proceed a general
diffidence in mankind, and mutual fear one of another.
[Sidenote: Apt to provoke another by comparisons.]
4. Further, since men by natural passion are divers ways offensive
one to another, every man thinking well of himself, and hating to
see the same in others, they must needs provoke one another by
words, and other signs of contempt and hatred, which are incident to
all comparison, till at last they must determine the pre-eminence by
strength and force of body.
[Sidenote: Apt to encroach one upon another.]
5. Moreover, considering that many men’s appetites carry them to one
and the same end; which end sometimes can neither be enjoyed in
common, nor divided, it followeth, that the stronger must enjoy it
alone, and that it be decided by battle who is the stronger. And
thus the greatest part of men, upon no assurance of odds, do
nevertheless, through vanity, or comparison, or appetite, provoke
the rest, that otherwise would be contented with equality.
[Sidenote: Right defined.]
6. And forasmuch as necessity of nature maketh men to will and
desire _bonum sibi_, that which is good for themselves, and to avoid
that which is hurtful; but most of all, the terrible enemy of
nature, death, from whom we expect both the loss of all power, and
also the greatest of bodily pains in the losing; it is not against
reason, that a man doth all he can to preserve his own body and
limbs both from death and pain. And that which is not against
reason, men call _right_, or _jus_, or _blameless liberty_ of using
our own natural power and ability. It is therefore a right of
nature, that every man may preserve his own life and limbs, with all
the power he hath.
[Sidenote: Right to the end, implieth right to the means.]
7. And because where a man hath right to the end, and the end cannot
be attained without the means, that is, without such things as are
necessary to the end, it is consequent that it is not against
reason, and therefore right, for a man to use all means, and do
whatsoever action is necessary for the preservation of his body.
[Sidenote: Every man his own judge by nature.]
8. Also, every man by right of nature, is judge himself of the
necessity of the means, and of the greatness of the danger. For if
it be against reason, that I be judge of mine own danger myself,
then it is reason, that another man be judge thereof. But the same
reason that maketh another man judge of those things that concern
me, maketh me also judge of that that concerneth him. And therefore
I have reason to judge of his sentence, whether it be for my
benefit, or not.
[Sidenote: Every man’s strength and knowledge for his own use.]
9. As a man’s judgment in right of nature is to be employed for his
own benefit, so also the strength, knowledge, and art, of every man
is then rightly employed, when he useth it for himself; else must
not a man have right to preserve himself.
[Sidenote: Every man by nature hath right to all things.]
10. Every man by nature hath right to all things, that is to say, to
do whatsoever he listeth to whom he listeth, to possess, use, and
enjoy all things he will and can. For seeing all things he willeth,
must therefore be good unto him in his own judgment, because he
willeth them, and may tend to his preservation some time or other,
or he may judge so, and we have made him judge thereof, section 8,
it followeth, that all things may rightly also be done by him. And
for this cause it is rightly said, _Natura dedit omnia omnibus_,
that Nature hath given all things to all men; insomuch, that _jus_
and _utile_, right and profit, is the same thing. But that right of
all men to all things, is in effect no better than if no man had
right to any thing. For there is little use and benefit of the right
a man hath, when another as strong, or stronger than himself, hath
right to the same.
[Sidenote: War and peace defined.]
11. Seeing then to the offensiveness of man’s nature one to another,
there is added a right of every man to every thing, whereby one man
invadeth with right, and another man with right resisteth, and men
live thereby in perpetual diffidence, and study how to preoccupate
each other; the estate of men in this natural liberty, is the estate
of war. For _war_ is nothing else but that time wherein the will and
contention of contending by force, is either by words or actions
sufficiently declared; and the time which is not war, is _peace_.
[Sidenote: Men by nature in the state of war.]
12. The estate of hostility and war being such, as thereby nature
itself is destroyed, and men kill one another, (as we know also that
it is, both by the experience of savage nations that live at this
day, and by the histories of our ancestors the old inhabitants of
Germany, and other now civil countries, where we find the people
few, and short lived, and without the ornaments and comforts of
life, which by peace and society are usually invented and procured)
he therefore that desireth to live in such an estate as is the
estate of liberty and right of all to all, contradicteth himself.
For every man by natural necessity desireth his own good, to which
this estate is contrary, wherein we suppose contention between men
by nature equal, and able to destroy one another.
[Sidenote: In manifest inequality might is right.]
13. Seeing this right of protecting ourselves by our own discretion
and force, proceedeth from danger, and that danger from the equality
between men’s forces, much more reason is there, that a man prevent
such equality before the danger cometh, and before the necessity of
battle. A man therefore that hath another man in his power to rule
or govern, to do good to, or harm, hath right, by the advantage of
this his present power, to take caution at his pleasure, for his
security against that other in time to come. He therefore that hath
already subdued his adversary, or gotten into his power any other,
that either by infancy, or weakness, is unable to resist him, by
right of nature may take the best caution, that such infant, or such
feeble and subdued person can give him, of being ruled and governed
by him for the time to come. For seeing we intend always our own
safety and preservation, we manifestly contradict that our
intention, if we willingly dismiss such a one, and suffer him at
once to gather strength and be our enemy. Out of which may also be
collected, that irresistible might, in the state of nature, is
right.
[Sidenote: Reason dictateth peace.]
14. But since it is supposed by the equality of strength, and other
natural faculties of men, that no man is of might sufficient, to
assure himself for any long time, of preserving himself thereby,
whilst he remaineth in the state of hostility and war; reason
therefore dictateth to every man for his own good, to seek after
peace, as far forth as there is hope to attain the same; and
strengthen himself with all the help he can procure, for his own
defence against those, from whom such peace cannot be obtained; and
to do all those things which necessarily conduce thereunto.
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CHAPTER II.
1. The law of nature consisteth not in consent of men, but reason.
2. That every man divest himself of the right he hath to all
things, is one precept of nature. 3. What it is to relinquish
and transfer one’s right. 4. The will to transfer, and the will
to accept, both necessary to the passing away of right. 5. Right
not transferred by words _de futuro_ only. 6. Words _de futuro_,
together with other signs of the will, may transfer right. 7.
Free gift defined. 8. Contract, and the sorts of it. 9. Covenant
defined. 10. Contract of mutual trust, is of no validity in the
estate of hostility. 11. No covenant of men but with one
another. 12. Covenant how dissolved. 13. Covenant extorted by
fear, in the law of nature valid. 14. Covenant contrary to
former covenant, void. 15. An oath defined. 16. Oath to be
administered to every man in his own religion. 17. Oath addeth
not to the obligation. 18. Covenants bind but to endeavour.
[Sidenote: The law of nature consisteth not in consent of men, but
reason.]
1. What it is we call the law of nature, is not agreed upon by
those, that have hitherto written. For the most part, such writers
as have occasion to affirm, that anything is against the law of
nature, do allege no more than this, that it is against the consent
of all nations, or the wisest and most civil nations. But it is not
agreed upon, who shall judge which nations are the wisest. Others
make that against the law of nature, which is contrary to the
consent of all mankind; which definition cannot be allowed, because
then no man could offend against the law of nature; for the nature
of every man is contained under the nature of mankind. But forasmuch
as all men are carried away by the violence of their passion, and by
evil customs do those things which are commonly said to be against
the law of nature; it is not the consent of passions, or consent in
some error gotten by custom, that makes the law of nature. Reason is
no less of the nature of man than passion, and is the same in all
men, because all men agree in the will to be directed and governed
in the way to that which they desire to attain, namely, their own
good, which is the work of reason: there can therefore be no other
law of nature than reason, nor no other precepts of _natural law_,
than those which declare unto us the ways of peace, where the same
may be obtained, and of defence where it may not.
[Sidenote: That every man divest himself of the right he hath to all
things, is one precept of nature.]
2. One precept of the law of nature therefore is this, _that every
man divest himself of the right he hath to all things by nature_.
For when divers men having right not only to all things else, but to
one another’s persons, if they use the same, there ariseth thereby
invasion on the one part, and resistance on the other, which is
_war_, and therefore contrary to the law of nature, the sum whereof
consisteth in making peace.
[Sidenote: What it is to relinquish and transfer one’s right.]
3. When a man divesteth and putteth from himself his right, he
either simply relinquisheth it, or transferreth the same to another
man. To _relinquish_ it, is by sufficient signs to declare, that it
is his will no more to do that action, which of right he might have
done before. To _transfer_ right to another, is by sufficient signs
to declare to that other accepting thereof, that it is his will not
to resist, or hinder him, according to that right he had thereto
before he transferred it. For seeing that by nature every man hath
right to every thing, it is impossible for a man to transfer unto
another any right that he had not before. And therefore all that a
man doth in transferring of right, is no more but a declaring of the
will, to suffer him, to whom he hath so transferred his right, to
make benefit of the same, without molestation. As for example, when
a man giveth his lands or goods to another, he taketh from himself
the right to enter into, and make use of the said lands or goods, or
otherwise to hinder him of the use of what he hath given.
[Sidenote: The will to transfer, and the will to accept, both
necessary to the passing away of right.]
4. In transferring of right, two things therefore are required: one
on the part of him that transferreth, which is a sufficient
signification of his will therein; the other, on the part of him to
whom it is transferred, which is a sufficient signification of his
acceptation thereof. Either of these failing, the right remaineth
where it was: nor is it to be supposed, that he which giveth his
right to one that accepteth it not, doth thereby simply relinquish
it, and transfer it to whomsoever will receive it: inasmuch as the
cause of transferring the same to one, rather than to another, is in
the one, rather than in the rest.
[Sidenote: Right not transferred by words _de futuro_ only.]
5. When there appear no other signs that a man hath relinquished, or
transferred his right, but only words, it behoveth that the same be
done in words, that signify the present time, or the time past, and
not only the time to come. For he that saith of the time to come, as
for example, to-morrow I will give, declareth evidently, that he
hath not yet given. The right, therefore, remaineth in him to-day,
and so continues, till he have given actually. But he that saith, I
give, presently, or have given to another anything, to have and
enjoy the same to-morrow, or any other time further, hath now
actually transferred the said right, which otherwise he should have
had at the time that the other is to enjoy it.
[Sidenote: Words _de futuro_, together with other signs of the will,
may transfer right.]
6. But because words alone are not a sufficient declaration of the
mind, as hath been shown chapter XIII. section 8, words spoken _de
futuro_, when the will of him that speaketh them may be gathered by
other signs, may be taken very often as if they were meant _de
præsenti_: for when it appeareth, that he that giveth, would have
his words so understood by him to whom he giveth, as if he did
actually transfer his right, then he must needs be understood to
will all that is necessary to the same.
[Sidenote: Free gift defined.]
7. When a man transferreth any right of his to another, without
consideration of reciprocal benefit, past, present, or to come, this
is called _free gift_. And in free gift, no other words can be
binding, but those which are _de præsenti_, or _de præterito_: for
being _de futuro_ only, they transfer nothing, nor can they be
understood, as if they proceeded from the will of the giver; because
being a free gift, it carrieth with it no obligation greater than
that which is enforced by the words. For he that promiseth to give,
without any other consideration but his own affection, so long as he
hath not given, deliberateth still, according as the causes of his
affections continue, or diminish; and he that deliberateth, hath not
yet willed, because the will is the last act of his deliberation. He
that promiseth therefore, is not thereby a _donor_, but _doson_;
which name was given to that Antiochus, that promised often, but
seldom gave.
[Sidenote: Contract, and the sorts of it.]
8. When a man transferreth his right upon consideration of
reciprocal benefit, this is not free gift, but mutual _donation_,
and is called _contract_. And in all contracts, either both parties
presently perform, and put each other into a certainty and assurance
of enjoying what they contract for, as when men buy or sell, or
barter; or one party performeth presently, and the other promiseth,
as when one selleth upon trust; or else neither party performeth
presently, but trust one another. And it is impossible there should
be any kind of contract besides these three. For either both the
contractors trust, or neither; or else one trusteth, and the other
not.
[Sidenote: Covenant defined.]
9. In all contracts where there is trust, the promise of him that is
trusted, is called a _covenant_. And this, though it be a promise,
and of the time to come, yet it doth transfer the right, when that
time cometh, no less than an actual donation. For it is a manifest
sign, that he which did perform, understood it was the will of him
that was trusted, to perform also. Promises therefore, upon
consideration of reciprocal benefit, are covenants and signs of the
will, or last act of deliberation, whereby the liberty of
performing, or not performing, is taken away, and consequently are
obligatory. For where liberty ceaseth, there beginneth obligation.
[Sidenote: Contract of mutual trust, is of no validity in the estate
of hostility.]
10. Nevertheless, in contracts that consist of such mutual trust, as
that nothing be by either party performed for the present, when the
contract is between such as are not compellable, he that performeth
first, considering the disposition of men to take advantage of every
thing for their benefit, doth but betray himself thereby to the
covetousness, or other passion of him with whom he contracteth. And
therefore such covenants are of none effect. For there is no reason
why the one should perform first, if the other be likely not to
perform afterward. And whether he be likely or not, he that
doubteth, shall be judge himself, as hath been said chap. I. sect.
8, as long as they remain in the estate and liberty of nature. But
when there shall be such power coercive over both the parties, as
shall deprive them of their private judgments in this point, then
may such covenants be effectual, seeing he that performeth first
shall have no reasonable cause to doubt of the performance of the
other, that may be compelled thereunto.
[Sidenote: No covenant of men but with one another.]
11. And forasmuch as in all covenants, and contracts, and donations,
the acceptance of him to whom the right is transferred, is necessary
to the essence of those covenants, donations, &c., it is impossible
to make a covenant or donation to any, that by nature, or absence,
are unable, or if able, do not actually declare their acceptation of
the same. First of all, therefore, it is impossible for any man to
make a covenant with God Almighty, further than it hath pleased him
to declare who shall receive and accept of the said covenant in his
name. Also it is impossible to make covenant with those living
creatures, of whose wills we have no sufficient sign, for want of
common language.
[Sidenote: Covenant how dissolved.]
12. A covenant to do any action at a certain time and place, is then
dissolved by the covenanter, when that time cometh, either by the
performance, or by the violation. For a covenant is void that is
once impossible. But a covenant not to do, without time limited,
which is as much as to say, a covenant never to do, is dissolved by
the covenanter then only, when he violateth it, or dieth. And
generally, all covenants are dischargeable by the covenantee, to
whose benefit, and by whose right, he that maketh the covenant is
obliged. This right therefore of the covenantee relinquished, is a
release of the covenant. And universally, for the same reason, all
obligations are determinable at the will of the obliger.
[Sidenote: Covenant extorted by fear, in the law of nature valid.]
13. It is a question often moved, whether such covenants oblige, as
are extorted from men by fear. As for example, whether if a man for
fear of death, hath promised to give a thief an hundred pounds the
next day, and not discover him; whether such covenant be obligatory,
or not. And though in some cases such covenant may be void, yet it
is not therefore void, because extorted by fear. For there appeareth
no reason, why that which we do upon fear, should be less firm than
that which we do for covetousness. For both the one and the other
maketh the action voluntary. And if no covenant should be good, that
proceedeth from fear of death, no conditions of peace between
enemies, nor any laws, could be of force, which are all consented to
from that fear. For who would lose the liberty that nature hath
given him, of governing himself by his own will and power, if they
feared not death in the retaining of it? What prisoner in war might
be trusted to seek his ransom, and ought not rather to be killed, if
he were not tied by the grant of his life, to perform his promise?
But after the introduction of policy and laws, the case may alter;
for if by the law the performance of such a covenant be forbidden,
then he that promiseth anything to a thief, not only may, but must
refuse to perform it. But if the law forbid not the performance, but
leave it to the will of the promiser, then is the performance still
lawful: and the covenant of things lawful is obligatory, even
towards a thief.
[Sidenote: Covenant contrary to former covenant, void.]
14. He that giveth, promiseth or covenanteth to one, and after,
giveth, promiseth, or covenanteth the same to another, maketh void
the latter act. For it is impossible for a man to transfer that
right which he himself hath not; and that right he hath not, which
he himself hath before transferred.
[Sidenote: An oath defined.]
15. An _oath_ is a clause annexed to a promise, containing a
renunciation of God’s mercy by him that promiseth, in case he
perform not as far as is lawful and possible for him to do. And this
appeareth by the words which make the essence of the oath, _so help
me God_. So also was it amongst the heathen. And the form of the
Romans was, _Thou Jupiter kill him that breaketh, as I kill this
beast_. The intention therefore of an oath being to provoke
vengeance upon the _breakers_ of covenant; it is to no purpose to
swear by men, be they never so great, because their punishment by
divers accidents may be avoided, whether they will, or no, but God’s
punishment not. Though it were a custom of many nations, to swear by
the life of their princes; yet those princes being ambitious of
divine honour, give sufficient testimony, that they believed,
nothing ought to be sworn by, but the Deity.
[Sidenote: Oath to be administered to every man in his own
religion.]
16. And seeing men cannot be afraid of the power they believe not,
and an oath is to no purpose, without fear of him they swear by, it
is necessary that he that sweareth, do it in that form which himself
admitteth in his own religion, and not in that form which he useth,
that putteth him to the oath. For though all men may know by nature,
that there is an Almighty power, nevertheless they believe not, that
they swear by him in any other form or name, than what their own,
which they think the true, religion teacheth them.
[Sidenote: Oath addeth not to the obligation.]
17. And by the definition of an oath, it appeareth that it addeth
not a greater obligation to perform the covenant sworn, than the
covenant carrieth in itself, but it putteth a man into a greater
danger, and of greater punishment.
[Sidenote: Covenants bind but to endeavour.]
18. Covenants and oaths are _de voluntariis_, that is, _de
possibilibus_. Nor can the covenantee understand the covenanter to
promise _impossibles_; for they fall not under deliberation: and
consequently, (by chap. XIII. sect. 10 of the _Treatise of Human
Nature_, which maketh the covenantee interpreter) no covenant is
understood to bind further, than to our best endeavour, either in
performance of the thing promised, or in something equivalent.
-------
CHAPTER III.
1. That men stand to their covenants. 2. Injury defined. 3. That
injury is done only to the covenantee. 4. The signification of
those names, just, unjust. 5. Justice not rightly divided into
commutative, and distributive. 6. It is a law of nature, that he
that is trusted, turn not that trust to the damage of him that
trusteth. 7. Ingratitude defined. 8. It is a law of nature, to
endeavour to accommodate one another: 9. And that man forgive
upon caution for the future: 10. And that revenge ought to
respect the future only: 11. That reproach and contempt
declared, is against the law of nature: 12. That indifference of
commerce is of the law of nature: 13. That messengers employed
to procure or maintain peace, ought to be safe by the law of
nature.
[Sidenote: That men stand to their covenants.]
1. It is a common saying that nature maketh nothing in vain. And it
is most certain, that as the truth of a conclusion, is no more but
the truth of the premises that make it; so the force of the command,
or law of nature, is no more than the force of the reasons inducing
thereunto. Therefore the law of nature mentioned in the former
chapter, section 2, namely, _That every man should divest himself of
the right_, &c. were utterly vain, and of none effect, if this also
were not a law of the same nature, _That every man is obliged to
stand to, and perform, those covenants he maketh_. For what benefit
is it to a man, that any thing be promised, or given unto him, if he
that giveth, or promiseth, performeth not, or retaineth still the
right of taking back what he hath given?
[Sidenote: Injury defined.]
2. The breach or violation of covenant, is that which men call
_injury_, consisting in some action or omission, which is therefore
called _unjust_. For it is action or omission, without _jus_, or
right, which was transferred or relinquished before. There is a
great similitude between that we call _injury_, or _injustice_ in
the actions and conversations of men in the world, and that which is
called _absurd_ in the arguments and disputations of the Schools.
For as he, which is driven to contradict an assertion by him before
maintained, is said to be reduced to an absurdity; so he that
through passion doth, or omitteth that which before by covenant he
promised to do, or not to omit, is said to commit injustice; and
there is in every breach of covenant a contradiction properly so
called. For he that covenanteth, willeth to do, or omit, in the time
to come. And he that doth any action, willeth it in that present,
which is part of the future time contained in the covenant. And
therefore he that violateth a covenant, willeth the doing and the
not doing of the same thing, at the same time, which is a plain
contradiction. And so _injury_ is an _absurdity_ of conversation, as
absurdity is a kind of injustice in disputation.
[Sidenote: That injury is done only to the covenantee.]
3. In all violation of covenant, (to whomsoever accrueth the damage)
the injury is done only to him to whom the covenant was made. For
example, if a man covenant to obey his master, and the master
command him to give money to a third, which he promiseth to do, and
doth not, though this be to the damage of the third, yet the injury
is done to the master only. For he could violate no covenant with
him, with whom none was made, and therefore doth him no injury. For
injury consisteth in violation of covenant by the definition
thereof.
[Sidenote: The signification of those names, just and unjust.]
4. The names of _just_, _unjust_, _justice_, _injustice_, are
equivocal, and signify diversly. For justice and injustice, when
they be attributed to actions, signify the same thing with _no
injury_, and _injury_, and denominate the action _just_, or
_unjust_, but not the man so. For they denominate him _guilty_, or
_not guilty_. But when justice or injustice, are attributed to men,
they signify _proneness_, and affection and inclination of nature,
that is to say, passions of the mind, apt to produce just and unjust
actions. So that when a man is said to be just, or unjust; not the
action, but the passion and aptitude, to do such actions, is
considered. And therefore a just man may have committed an unjust
act; and an unjust man may have done justly, not only one, but most
of his actions. For there is an _oderunt peccare_ in the unjust, as
well as in the just, but from different causes. For the unjust man
who abstaineth from injuries for fear of punishment, declareth
plainly, that the justice of his actions dependeth upon civil
constitution, from whence punishments proceed, which would otherwise
in the estate of nature be unjust, according to the fountain from
whence they spring. This distinction therefore of _justice_, and
_injustice_, ought to be remembered, that when injustice is taken
for guilty, the action is unjust, but not therefore the man; and
when justice is taken for _guiltlessness_, the actions are just, and
yet not always the man. Likewise when justice and injustice are
taken for habits of the mind, the man may be just, or unjust, and
yet not all his actions so.
[Sidenote: Justice not rightly divided into commutative, and
distributive.]
5. Concerning the justice of actions, the same is usually divided
into two kinds, whereof men call the one _commutative_, and the
other _distributive_; and are said to consist, the one in proportion
_arithmetical_; the other in _geometrical_: and _commutative_
justice, they place in permutation, as buying, selling, and
bartering; _distributive_, in giving to every man according to their
deserts. Which distinction is not well made, inasmuch as injury,
which is the injustice of action, consisteth not in the inequality
of the things changed, or distributed, but in the inequality that
men, contrary to nature and reason, assume unto themselves above
their fellows. Of which inequality, shall be spoken hereafter. And
for _commutative_ justice placed in buying and selling, though the
thing bought be unequal to the price given for it, yet forasmuch as
both the buyer and the seller are made judges of the value, and are
thereby both satisfied, there can be no injury done on either side,
neither party having trusted, or covenanted with the other. And for
_distributive_ justice, which consisteth in the distribution of our
own benefits, seeing a thing is therefore said to be our own,
because we may dispose of it at our own pleasure, it can be no
injury to any man, though our liberality be farther extended towards
another, than towards him; unless we be thereto obliged by covenant:
and then the injustice consisteth in the violation of that covenant,
and not in the inequality of distribution.
[Sidenote: It is a law of nature, that he that is trusted, turn not
that trust to the damage of him that trusteth]
6. It happeneth many times that man benefitteth, or contributeth, to
the power of another, without any covenant, but only upon confidence
and trust of obtaining the grace and favour of that other, whereby
he may procure a greater, or no less benefit, and assistance to
himself. For by necessity of nature, every man doth in all his
voluntary actions intend some good unto himself. In this case it is
a law of nature, _That no man suffer him, that thus trusteth to his
charity, or good affection towards him, to be in the worse estate
for his trusting_. For if he shall so do, men will not dare to
confer mutually to each other’s defence, nor put themselves into
each other’s mercy upon any terms whatsoever, but rather abide the
utmost and worst event of hostility; by which general diffidence,
men will not only be enforced to war, but also afraid to come so
much within the danger of one another, as to make any overture of
peace. But this is to be understood of those only, that confer their
benefits (as I have said) upon trust only, and not for triumph or
ostentation. For as when they do it upon trust, the end they aimed
at, namely to be well used, is the reward; so also when they do it
for ostentation, they have the reward in themselves.
[Sidenote: Ingratitude defined.]
7. But seeing in this case there passeth no covenant, the breach of
this law of nature is not to be called _injury_. It hath another
name, to wit, _ingratitude_.
[Sidenote: It is a law of nature, to endeavour to accommodate one
another.]
8. It is also a law of nature, _That every man do help and endeavour
to accommodate each other as far as may be, without danger of their
persons, and loss of their means, to maintain and defend
themselves_. For seeing the causes of war and desolation proceed
from those passions, by which we strive to accommodate ourselves,
and to leave others as far as we can behind us, it followeth, that
that passion by which we strive mutually to accommodate each other,
must be the cause of peace. And this passion is that charity defined
chapter IX. section 17.
[Sidenote: And that man forgive, upon caution for the future.]
9. And in this precept of nature, is included and comprehended also
this, _That a man forgive and pardon him that hath done him wrong,
upon his repentance and caution for the future_. For _pardon_ is
peace granted to him, that, having provoked to war, demandeth it. It
is not therefore charity, but fear, when a man giveth peace to him
that repenteth not, nor giveth caution for maintaining thereof in
the time to come. For he that repenteth not, remaineth with the
affection of an enemy; as also doth he that refuseth to give
caution, and consequently, is presumed not to seek after peace, but
advantage. And therefore to forgive him is not commanded in this law
of nature, nor is charity, but may sometime be prudence. Otherwise,
not to pardon upon repentance and caution, considering men cannot
abstain from provoking one another, is never to give _peace_. And
that is against the general definition of the law of nature.
[Sidenote: And that revenge ought to respect the future only.]
10. And seeing the law of nature commandeth pardon, when there is
repentance and caution for the future, it followeth, that the same
law ordaineth, _That no revenge be taken upon the consideration only
of the offence past, but of the benefit to come_; that is to say,
that all revenge ought to tend to amendment, either of the person
offending, or of others, by the example of his punishment; which is
sufficiently apparent, in that the law of nature commandeth pardon,
where the future time is secured. The same is also apparent by this,
that revenge when it considereth the offence past, is nothing else,
but present triumph and glory, and directeth to no end: and what is
directed to no end, is therefore unprofitable; and consequently the
triumph of revenge, is vain glory: and whatsoever is vain, is
against reason; and to hurt one another without reason, is contrary
to that, which by supposition is every man’s benefit, namely peace;
and what is contrary to peace, is contrary to the law of nature.
[Sidenote: That reproach and contempt declared is against the law of
nature.]
11. And because all signs which we shew to one another of hatred and
contempt, provoke in the highest degree to quarrel and battle,
(inasmuch as life itself, with the condition of enduring scorn, is
not esteemed worth the enjoying, much less peace) it must
necessarily be implied as a law of nature, _That no man reproach,
revile, deride, or any otherwise declare his hatred, contempt, or
disesteem of any other_. But this law is very little practised. For
what is more ordinary than reproaches of those that are rich,
towards them that are not? or of those that sit in place of
judicature, towards those that are accused at the bar? although to
grieve them in that manner, be no part of the punishment for their
crime, nor contained in their office. But use hath prevailed, that
what was lawful in the lord towards the servant whom he maintaineth,
is also practised as lawful in the more mighty towards the less;
though they contribute nothing towards their maintenance.
[Sidenote: That indifference of commerce is of the law of nature.]
12. It is also a law of nature, _That one man allow commerce and
traffic indifferently to one another_. For he that alloweth that to
one man, which he denieth to another, declareth his hatred to him,
to whom he denieth. And to declare hatred is war. And upon this
title was grounded the great war between the Athenians and the
Peloponnesians. For would the Athenians have condescended to suffer
the Megareans, their neighbours, to traffic in their ports and
markets, that war had not begun.
[Sidenote: That messengers employed to procure or maintain peace,
ought to be safe by the law of nature.]
13. And this also is a law of nature, _That all messengers of peace,
and such as are employed to procure and maintain amity between man
and man, may safely come and go_. For seeing peace is the general
law of nature, the means thereto, such as are these men, must in the
same law be comprehended.
sp 2
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CHAPTER IV.
1. A law of nature, that every man acknowledge other for his equal.
2. Another, that men allow _æqualia æqualibus_. 3. Another, that
those things which cannot be divided, be used in common. 4.
Another, that things indivisible and incommunicable, be divided
by lot. 5. Natural lot, primogeniture, and first possession. 6.
That men submit to arbitration. 7. Of an arbitrator. 8. That no
man press his counsel upon any man against his will. 9. How to
know suddenly what is the law of nature. 10. That the law of
nature taketh place after security from others to observe the
same. 11. The right of nature not to be taken away by custom,
nor the law of nature abrogated by any act. 12. Why the dictates
of nature are called laws. 13. Whatsoever is against conscience
in a man that is his own judge, is against the law of nature.
14. Of _malum pœnæ, malum culpæ_; virtue and vice. 15. Aptitude
to society fulfilleth the law of nature.
[Sidenote: A law of nature, that every man acknowledge other for his
equal.]
1. The question, which is the better man, is determinable only in
the estate of government and policy, though it be mistaken for a
question of nature, not only by ignorant men, that think one man’s
blood better than another’s by nature, but also by him, whose
opinions are at this day, and in these parts, of greater authority
than any other human writings. For he putteth so much difference
between the powers of men by nature, that he doubteth not to set
down, as the ground of all his politics, that some men are by nature
worthy to govern, and others by nature ought to serve. Which
foundation hath not only weakened the whole frame of his politics,
but hath also given men colour and pretences, whereby to disturb and
hinder the peace of one another. For though there were such a
difference of nature, that master and servant were not by consent of
men, but by inherent virtue; yet who hath that eminency of virtue,
above others, and who is so stupid, as not to govern himself, shall
never be agreed upon amongst men, who do every one naturally think
himself, as able, at the least, to govern another, as another to
govern him. And when there was any contention between the finer and
the courser wits, (as there hath been often in times of sedition and
civil war) for the most part, these latter carried away the victory;
and as long as men arrogate to themselves more honour than they give
to others, it cannot be imagined, how they can possibly live in
peace: and consequently we are to suppose, that for peace sake,
nature hath ordained this law, _That every man acknowledge other for
his equal_. And the breach of this law, is that we call _pride_.
[Sidenote: Another, that men allow _æqualia æqualibus_.]
2. As it was necessary that a man should not retain his right to
every thing, so also was it, that he should retain his right to
some things; to his own body, for example, the right of
defending, whereof he could not transfer; to the use of fire,
water, free air, and place to live in, and to all things
necessary for life. Nor doth the law of nature command any
divesting of other rights, than of those only which cannot be
retained without the loss of peace. Seeing then many rights are
retained, when we enter into peace one with another, reason and
the law of nature dictateth, _Whatsoever right any man requireth
to retain, he allow every other man to retain the same_. For he
that doth not so, alloweth not the equality mentioned in the
former section. For there is no acknowledgment of worth, without
attribution of the equality of benefit and respect. And this
allowance of _æqualia æqualibus_, is the same thing with the
allowing of _proportionalia proportionalibus_. For when a man
alloweth to every man alike, the allowance he maketh, will be in
the same proportion, in which are the numbers of men to whom
they are made. And this is it men mean by _distributive
justice_, and is properly termed _equity_. The breach of the law
is that which the Greeks call Πλεονεξία, which is commonly
rendered _covetousness_, but seemeth to be more precisely
expressed by the word _encroaching_.
[Sidenote: Another, that those things which cannot be divided, be
used in common.]
3. If there pass no other covenant, the law of nature is, _That such
things as cannot be divided, be used in common, proportionably to
the numbers of them that are to use the same, or without limitation,
when the quantity thereof sufficeth_. For first supposing the thing
to be used in common, not sufficient for them that are to use it
without limitation, if a few shall make more use thereof than the
rest, that equality is not observed, which is required in the second
section. And this is to be understood, as all the rest of the laws
of nature, without any other covenant antecedent: for a man may have
given away his right of common, and so the case be altered.
[Sidenote: Another, that things indivisible and incommunicable, be
divided by lot.]
4. In those things which neither can be divided, nor used in common,
the rule of nature must needs be one of these, _lot_, or _alternate
use_: for besides these two ways, there can no other equality be
imagined; and for alternate use, he that beginneth, hath the
advantage; and to reduce that advantage to equality, there is no
other way but lot, in things, therefore indivisible and
incommunicable, it is the law of nature, _That the use be alternate,
or the advantage given away by lot_; because there is no other way
of equality. And equality is the law of nature.
[Sidenote: Natural lot, primogeniture, and first possession.]
5. There be two sorts of lots; one arbitrary, made by men, and
commonly known by the names of _lot_, _chance_, _hazard_, and the
like; and there is _natural lot_, such as is _primogeniture_, which
is no more but the chance, or lot, of being first born, which it
seemeth they considered, that call inheritance by the name of
κληρονομία, which signifieth _distribution_ by lot. Secondly, _prima
occupatio_, first seizing, or finding of a thing, whereof no man
made use before, which for the most part also is merely _chance_.
[Sidenote: That men submit to arbitration.]
6. Although men agree upon these laws of nature, and endeavour to
observe the same; yet considering the passions of men, that make it
difficult to understand by what actions, and circumstances of
actions, those laws are broken, there must needs arise many great
controversies about the interpretation thereof, by which the peace
must needs be dissolved, and men return again to their former estate
of hostility. For the taking away of which controversies, it is
necessary that there be some common _arbitrator_ and _judge_, to
whose sentence both the parties in the controversies ought to stand.
And therefore it is a law of nature, _That in every controversy, the
parties thereto ought mutually to agree upon an arbitrator, whom
they both trust; and mutually to covenant to stand to the sentence
he shall give therein_. For where every man is his own _judge_,
there properly is no judge at all; as where every man carveth out
his own right, it hath the same effect, as if there were no right at
all: and where is no judge, there is no end of controversy: and
therefore the right of hostility remaineth.
[Sidenote: Of an arbitrator.]
7. An _arbitrator_ therefore, or he that is judge, is trusted by the
parties to any controversy, to determine the same by the declaration
of his own judgment therein. Out of which followeth first, that the
judge ought not to be concerned in the controversy he endeth; for in
that case he is a party, and ought by the same reason to be judged
by another. Secondly, that he maketh no covenant with either of the
parties, to pronounce sentence for the one, more than for the other.
Nor doth he covenant so much, as that his sentence shall be just;
for that were to make the parties judges of the sentence, whereby
the controversy would remain still undecided. Nevertheless for the
trust reposed in him, and for the equality which the law of nature
requireth him to consider in the parties, he violateth that law, if
for favour, or hatred to either party, he give other sentence than
he thinketh right. And thirdly, that no man ought to make himself
judge in any controversy between others, unless they consent and
agree thereto.
[Sidenote: That no man press his counsel upon any man against his
will.]
8. It is also the law of nature, _That no man obtrude or press his
advice or counsel to any man, that declareth himself unwilling to
hear the same_. For seeing a man taketh counsel concerning what is
good or hurt of himself only, and not of his counsellor, and that
counsel is a voluntary action, and therefore tendeth also to the
good of the counsellor, there may be often just cause to suspect the
counsellor: and though there be none, yet seeing counsel unwillingly
heard, is a needless offence to him that is not willing to hear it,
and offences tend all to the breach of peace, it is therefore
against the law of nature to obtrude it.
[Sidenote: How to know suddenly what is the law of nature.]
9. A man that shall see these laws of nature set down and inferred
with so many words, and so much ado, may think there is yet much
more difficulty and subtlety required to acknowledge and do
according to the said laws in every sudden occasion, when a man hath
but a little time to consider. And while we consider man in most
passions, as of _anger_, _ambition_, _covetousness_, _vain glory_,
and the like, that tend to the excluding of natural equality, it is
true. But without these passions, there is an easy rule to know upon
a sudden, whether the action I be to do, be against the law of
nature, or not. And it is but this: _That a man imagine himself in
place of the party with whom he hath to do, and reciprocally him in
his_. Which is no more but a changing, as it were, of the scales.
For every man’s passion weigheth heavy in his own scale, but not in
the scale of his neighbour. And this rule is very well known and
expressed in this old dictate, _Quod tibi fieri non vis, alteri ne
feceris_.
[Sidenote: That the law of nature taketh place after security from
others to observe the same.]
10. These laws of nature, the sum whereof consisteth in forbidding
us to be our own judges, and our own carvers, and in commanding us
to accommodate one another, in case they should be observed by some,
and not by others, would make the observers but a prey to them that
should neglect them, leaving the good both without defence against
the wicked, and also with a charge to assist them: which is against
the scope of the said laws, that are made only for the protection
and defence of them that keep them. Reason therefore, and the law of
nature over and above all these particular laws, doth dictate this
law in general, _That those particular laws be so far observed, as
they subject us not to any incommodity, that in our own judgments
may arise, by the neglect thereof in those towards whom we observe
them_; and consequently requireth no more but the desire and
constant intention to endeavour and be ready to observe them, unless
there be cause to the contrary in other men’s refusal to observe
them towards us. The force therefore of the law of nature, is not
_in foro externo_, till there be security for men to obey it, but is
always _in foro interno_, wherein the action of obedience being
unsafe, the will and readiness to perform, is taken for the
performance.
[Sidenote: The right of nature not to be taken away by custom, nor
the law of nature abrogated by any act.]
11. Amongst the laws of nature, customs and prescriptions are not
numbered. For whatsoever action is against reason, though it be
reiterated never so often, or that there be never so many
precedents thereof, is still against reason, and therefore not a
law of nature, but contrary to it. But consent and covenant may so
alter the cases, which in the law of nature may be put, by
changing the circumstances, that that which was reason before, may
afterwards be against it; and yet is reason still the law. For
though every man be bound to allow equality to another, yet if
that other shall see cause to renounce the same, and make himself
inferior, then, if from thenceforth he consider him as inferior,
he breaketh not thereby that law of nature that commandeth to
allow equality. In sum, _a mans own consent may abridge him of the
liberty which the law of nature leaveth him, but custom not_; nor
can either of them abrogate either these, or or any other law of
nature.
[Sidenote: Why the dictates of nature are called laws.]
12. And forasmuch as law, to speak properly, is a command, and these
dictates, as they proceed from nature, are not commands, they are
not therefore called laws, in respect of nature, but in respect of
the author of nature, God Almighty.
[Sidenote: Whatsoever is against conscience in a man, that is his
own judge, is against the law of nature.]
13. And seeing the laws of nature concern the conscience, not he
only breaketh them that doth any action contrary, but also he whose
action is conformable to them, in case he think it contrary. For
though the action chance to be right, yet in his judgment he
despiseth the law.
[Sidenote: Of _malum pœnæ, malum culpæ_; virtue and vice.]
14. Every man by natural passion, calleth that good which pleaseth
him for the present, or so far forth as he can foresee; and in like
manner, that which displeaseth him, evil. And therefore he that
foreseeth the whole way to his preservation, which is the end that
every one by nature aimeth at, must also call it good, and the
contrary evil. And this is that good and evil, which not every man
in passion calleth so, but all men by reason. And therefore the
fulfilling of all these laws is good in reason, and the breaking of
them evil. And so also the habit, or disposition, or intention to
fulfil them good; and the neglect of them evil. And from hence
cometh that distinction of _malum pœnæ_, and _malum culpæ_; for
_malum pœnæ_ is any pain or molestation of the mind whatsoever; but
_malum culpæ_ is that action which is contrary to reason and the law
of nature: as also the habit of doing according to these and other
laws of nature, that tend to our preservation, is that we call
_virtue_; and the habit of doing the contrary, _vice_. As for
example, justice is that habit by which we stand to covenants,
injustice the contrary vice; equity that habit by which we allow
equality of nature, arrogancy the contrary vice; gratitude the habit
whereby we requite the benefit and trust of others, ingratitude the
contrary vice; temperance the habit by which we abstain from all
things that tend to our destruction, intemperance the contrary vice;
prudence, the same with virtue in general. As for the common
opinion, that virtue consisteth in mediocrity, and vice in extremes,
I see no ground for it, nor can find any such mediocrity. Courage
may be virtue, when the daring is extreme, if the cause be good, and
extreme fear no vice when the danger is extreme. To give a man more
than his due, is no injustice, though it be to give him less: and in
gifts it is not the sum that maketh liberality, but the reason. And
so in all other virtues and vices. I know that this doctrine of
mediocrity is Aristotle’s, but his opinions concerning virtue and
vice, are no other than those, which were received then, and are
still by the generality of men unstudied, and therefore not very
likely to be accurate.
[Sidenote: Aptitude to society, fulfilleth the law of nature.]
15. The sum of virtue is to be sociable with them that will be
sociable, and formidable to them that will not. And the same is the
sum of the law of nature: for in being sociable, the law of nature
taketh place by way of peace and society; and to be formidable, is
the law of nature in war, where to be feared is a protection a man
hath from his own power: and as the former consisteth in actions of
equity and justice, the latter consisteth in actions of honour. And
equity, justice, and honour, contain all virtues whatsoever.
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CHAPTER V.
A Confirmation out of Holy Scripture of the principal points
mentioned in the two last Chapters concerning the Law of Nature.
[Sidenote: Confirmation out of Scripture, &c.]
1. The laws mentioned in the former chapters, as they are called the
laws of nature, for that they are the dictates of natural reason,
and also moral laws, because they concern the manners and
conversation of men, one towards another; so are they also divine
laws in respect of the author thereof, God Almighty; and ought
therefore to agree, or at least, not to be repugnant to the word of
God revealed in Holy Scripture. In this chapter therefore, I shall
produce such places of Scripture, as appear to be most consonant to
the said laws.
2. And first, the word of God seemeth to place the divine law in
reason, by all such texts as ascribe the same to the heart and
understanding; as Psalm xl. 8: _Thy law is in my heart_. Heb. viii.
10: _After those days, saith the Lord, I will put my laws in their
mind_: and Heb. x. 16, the same. Psalm xxxvii. 31, speaking of the
righteous man, he saith, _The law of God is in his heart_. Psalm
xix. 7, 8: _The law of God is perfect, converting the soul. It
giveth wisdom to the simple, and, light unto the eyes_. Jer. xxxi.
33: _I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in their
hearts_. And (John i.) the lawgiver himself, God Almighty, is called
by the name of Λόγος, which is also called (verse 4) _The light of
men_; and (verse 9) _The light which lighteth every man, which
cometh into the world_. All which are descriptions of natural
reason.
3. And that the law divine, for so much as is moral, are those
precepts which tend to peace, seemeth to be much confirmed by such
places of Scripture as these: Rom. iii. 17, righteousness which is
the fulfilling of the law, is called _The way of peace_. And Psalm
lxxxv. 10: _Righteousness and peace shall kiss each other_. And
Matth. v. 9: _Blessed are the peace-makers_. And Heb. vii. 2,
_Melchisedec king of Salem_ is interpreted _king of righteousness_,
and _king of peace_. And (verse 21) our Saviour Christ is said to be
_a priest for ever after the order of Melchisedec_: out of which may
be inferred, that the doctrine of our Saviour Christ annexeth the
fulfilling of the law to peace.
4. That the law of nature is unalterable, is intimated by this, that
the priesthood of Melchisedec is everlasting; and by the words of
our Saviour, (Matth. v. 18): _Heaven and earth shall pass away, but
one jot or tittle of the law shall not pass till all things be
fulfilled_.
5. That men ought to stand to their covenants, is taught Psalm xv,
where the question being asked (verse 1), _Lord who shall dwell in
thy tabernacle_, &c. It is answered (verse 4), _He that sweareth to
his own hindrance, and yet changeth not_. And that men ought to be
gratified, where no covenant passeth, Deut. xxv. 4: _Thou shalt not
muzzle the ox that treadeth out the corn_, which St. Paul (1 Cor.
ix. 9) interpreteth not of oxen but of men.
6. That men content themselves with equality, as it is the
foundation of natural law, so also is it of the second table, of the
divine law, Matth. xxii. 39, 40: _Thou shalt love thy neighbour as
thyself. On these two laws depend the whole law and the prophets_;
which is not so to be understood, as that a man should study so much
his neighbour’s profit as his own, or that he should divide his
goods amongst his neighbours; but that he should esteem his
neighbour worthy all rights and privileges that himself enjoyeth;
and attribute unto him, whatsoever he looketh should be attributed
unto himself: which is no more, but that he should be humble, meek,
and content with equality.
7. And that in distributing of right amongst equals, that
distribution is to be made according to the proportions of
the numbers, which is the giving of _æqualia æqualibus, et
proportionalia proportionalibus_; we have Numb. xxvi. 53, 54, the
commandment of God to Moses: _Thou shalt divide the land according
to the number of names; to many thou shalt give more, to few thou
shalt give less, to every one according to his number_. That
decision by lot is a means of peace, Prov. xviii. 18: _The lot
causeth contention to cease, and maketh partition among the mighty_.
8. That the accommodation and forgiveness of one another, which have
before been put for laws of nature, are also law divine, there is no
question. For they are the essence of charity, which is the scope of
the whole law. That we ought not to reproach, or reprehend one
another, is the doctrine of our Saviour, Matth. vii. 1: _Judge not,
that ye be not judged_: (verse 3): _Why seest thou the mote that is
in thy brother’s eye, and seest not the beam that is in thine own
eye?_ Also the law that forbiddeth us to press our counsel upon
others further than they admit, is a divine law. For after our
charity and desire to rectify one another is rejected, to press it
further, is to reprehend him, and condemn him, which is forbidden in
the text last recited; as also Rom. xiv. 12, 13: _Every one of us
shall give account of himself to God. Let us not therefore judge one
another any more, but use your judgment rather in this, that no man
put an occasion to fall, or a stumbling block before his brother._
9. Further, the rule of men concerning the law of nature, _Quod tibi
fieri non vis, alteri ne feceris_, is confirmed by the like, Matth.
vii. 12: _Whatsoever therefore you would have men do unto you, that
do you unto them: for this is the law and the prophets_. And Rom.
ii. 1: _In that thou judgest another, thou condemnest thyself_, &c.
10. It is also manifest by the Scriptures, that these laws concern
only the tribunal of our conscience; and that the actions contrary
to them, shall be no further punished by God Almighty, than as they
proceed from negligence, or contempt. And first, that these laws are
made to the conscience, appeareth, Matth. v. 20: _For I say unto
you, except your righteousness exceed the righteousness of the
Scribes and Pharisees, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of
heaven._ Now the Pharisees were the most exact amongst the Jews in
the external performance; they therefore must want the sincerity of
conscience; else could not our Saviour have required a greater
righteousness than theirs. For the same reason our Saviour Christ
saith (Luke, xviii. 14): _The publican departed from the temple
justified, rather than the Pharisee_. And Christ saith, (Matth. xi.
30): _My yoke is easy, and my burthen light_; which proceedeth from
this, that Christ required no more than our best endeavour. And Rom.
xiv. 23: _He that doubteth, is condemned, if he eat_. And in
innumerable places both in the Old and New Testament, God Almighty
declareth, that he taketh the will for the deed, both in good and
evil actions. By all which it plainly appears, that the divine law
is dictated to the conscience. On the other side it is no less
plain, that how many and heinous actions soever a man commit through
infirmity, he shall nevertheless, whensoever he shall condemn the
same in his own conscience, be freed from the punishments that to
such actions otherwise belong. For, _At what time soever a sinner
doth repent him of his sins from the bottom of his heart, I will put
all his iniquities out of my remembrance, saith the Lord_.
11. Concerning revenge, which by the law of nature ought not to aim,
as I have said chapter III. section 10, at present delight, but
future profit, there is some difficulty made, as if the same
accorded not with the law divine, by such as object the continuance
of punishment after the day of judgment, when there shall be no
place, neither for amendment, nor for example. This objection had
been of some force, if such punishment had been ordained after all
sins were past; but considering the punishment was instituted before
sin, it serveth to the benefit of mankind, because it keepeth men in
peaceable and virtuous conversation by the terror. And therefore
such revenge was directed to the future only.
12. Finally, there is no law of natural reason, that can be against
the law divine: for God Almighty hath given reason to a man to be a
light unto him. And I hope it is no impiety to think, that God
Almighty will require a strict account thereof, at the day of
judgment, as of the instructions which we were to follow in our
peregrination here, notwithstanding the opposition and affronts of
supernaturalists now a-days, to rational and moral conversation.
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CHAPTER VI.
1. That men, notwithstanding these laws, are still in the state of
war, till they have security one against another. 2. The law of
nature in war, is nothing but honour. 3. No security without the
concord of many. 4. That concord of many cannot be maintained
without power to keep them all in awe. 5. The cause why concord
remaineth in a multitude of some irrational creatures, and not
of men. 6. That union is necessary for the maintaining of
concord. 7. How union is made. 8. Body politic defined. 9.
Corporation defined. 10. Sovereign and subject defined. 11. Two
sorts of bodies politic, patrimonial and commonwealth.
[Sidenote: That men, notwithstanding these laws, are still in the
state of war, till they have security one against
another.]
1. In chapter XII. section 6, of the _Treatise of Human Nature_, it
hath been shewed, that the opinions men have of the rewards and
punishments which are to follow their actions, are the causes that
make and govern the will to those actions. In this estate of man
therefore, wherein all men are equal, and every man allowed to be
his own judge, the fears they have one of another are equal, and
every man’s hopes consist in his own sleight and strength: and
consequently when any man by his natural passion, is provoked to
break these laws of nature, there is no security in any other man of
his own defence but _anticipation_. And for this cause, every man’s
right, howsoever he be inclined to peace, of doing whatsoever
seemeth good in his own eyes, remaineth with him still, as the
necessary means of his preservation. And therefore till there be
security amongst men for the keeping of the law of nature one
towards another, men are still in the estate of war, and nothing is
unlawful to any man that tendeth to his own safety or commodity: and
this safety and commodity consisteth in the mutual aid and help of
one another, whereby also followeth the mutual fear of one another.
[Sidenote: The law of nature in war, is nothing but honour.]
2. It is a proverbial saying, _inter arma silent leges_. There is a
little therefore to be said concerning the laws that men are to
observe one towards another in time of war, wherein every man’s
being and well-being is the rule of his actions. Yet thus much the
law of nature commandeth in war, that men satiate not the cruelty of
their present passions, whereby in their own conscience they foresee
no benefit to come. For that betrayeth not a necessity, but a
disposition of the mind to war, which is against the law of nature.
And in old time we read, that rapine was a trade of life, wherein
nevertheless many of them that used it, did not only spare the lives
of those they invaded, but left them also such things, as were
necessary to preserve that life which they had given them; as namely
their oxen and instruments for tillage, though they carried away all
their other cattle and substance. And as the rapine itself was
warranted in the law of nature, by the want of security otherwise to
maintain themselves, so the exercise of cruelty was forbidden by the
same law of nature, unless fear suggested anything to the contrary.
For nothing but fear can justify the taking away of another’s life.
And because fear can hardly be made manifest, but by some action
dishonourable, that bewrayeth the conscience of one’s own weakness,
all men, in whom the passion of courage or magnanimity hath been
predominant, have abstained from cruelty; insomuch, that though
there be in war no law, the breach whereof is injury, yet there are
in war those laws, the breach whereof is dishonour. In one word,
therefore, the only law of actions in war, is _honour_; and the
right of war, _providence_.
[Sidenote: No security without the concord of many.]
3. And seeing natural aid is necessary for defence, as mutual fear
is necessary for peace, we are to consider how great aids are
required for such defence, and for the causing of such mutual fear,
as men may not easily adventure on one another. And first, it is
evident, that the mutual aid of two or three men is of very little
security. For the odds on the other side, of a man or two, giveth
sufficient encouragement to an assault. And therefore before men
have sufficient security in the help of one another, their number
must be so great, that the odds of a few which the enemy may have,
be no certain and sensible advantage.
[Sidenote: That concord of many cannot be maintained without power
to keep them all in awe.]
4. And supposing how great a number soever of men assembled together
for their mutual defence, yet shall not the effect follow, unless
they all direct their actions to one and the same end; which
direction to one and the same end is that which, chap. XII. sect. 7,
is called _consent_. This _consent_, or concord, amongst so many
men, though it may be made by the fear of a present invader, or by
the hope of a present conquest, or booty, and endure as long as that
action endureth, nevertheless, by the diversity of judgments and
passions in so many men contending naturally for honour and
advantage one above another, it is impossible, not only that their
consent to aid each other against an enemy, but also that the peace
should last between themselves, without some mutual and common fear
to rule them.
[Sidenote: The cause why concord remaineth in a multitude of some
irrational creatures, and not of men.]
5. But contrary hereunto may be objected, the experience we have of
certain living creatures irrational, that nevertheless continually
live in such good order and government for their common benefit, and
are so free from sedition and war amongst themselves, that for
peace, profit, and defence, nothing more can be imaginable. And the
experience we have in this, is in that little creature the bee,
which is therefore reckoned amongst _animalia politica_. Why
therefore may not men, that foresee the benefit of concord,
continually maintain the same without compulsion, as well as they?
To which I answer, that amongst other living creatures, there is no
question of precedence in their own species, nor strife about
honour, or acknowledgment of one another’s wisdom, as there is
amongst men, from whence arise envy and hatred of one towards
another, and from thence sedition and war. Secondly, those living
creatures aim every one at peace and food common to them all; men
aim at dominion, superiority, and private wealth, which are distinct
in every man, and breed contention. Thirdly, those living creatures
that are without reason, have not learning enough to espy, or to
think they espy, any defect in the government; and therefore are
contented therewith. But in a multitude of men, there are always
some that think themselves wiser than the rest, and strive to alter
what they think amiss, and divers of them strive to alter divers
ways, and that causeth war. Fourthly, they want speech, and are
therefore unable to instigate one another to faction, which men want
not. Fifthly, they have no conception of right and wrong, but only
of pleasure and pain, and therefore also no censure of one another,
nor of their commander, as long as they are themselves at ease;
whereas men that make themselves judges of right and wrong, are then
least at quiet, when they are most at ease. Lastly, natural concord,
such as is amongst those creatures, is the work of God by the way of
nature; but concord amongst men is artificial, and by way of
covenant. And therefore no wonder, if such irrational creatures as
govern themselves in multitude, do it much more firmly than mankind,
that do it by arbitrary institution.
[Sidenote: That union is necessary for the maintaining of concord.]
6. It remaineth therefore still, that consent, by which I understand
the concurrence of many men’s wills to one action, is not sufficient
security for their common peace, without the erection of some common
power, by the fear whereof they may be compelled both to keep the
peace amongst themselves, and to join their strengths together,
against a common enemy. And that this may be done, there is no way
imaginable, but only union, which is defined, chapter XII. section
8, to be the involving, or including the wills of many in the will
of one man, or in the will of the greatest part of any one number of
men, that is to say, in the will of one man, or of one _council_.
For a council is nothing else but an _assembly_ of men deliberating
concerning something common to them all.
[Sidenote: How union is made.]
7. The making of union consisteth in this, that every man by
covenant oblige himself to some one and the same man, or to some one
and the same council, by them all named and determined, to do those
actions, which the said man or council shall command them to do, and
to do no action, which he or they shall forbid, or command them not
to do. And further, in case it be a council, whose commands they
covenant to obey, that then also they covenant, that every man shall
hold that for the command of the whole council, which is the command
of the greater part of those men, whereof such council consisteth.
And though the will of man being not voluntary, but the beginning of
voluntary actions, is not subject to deliberation and covenant; yet
when a man covenanteth to subject his will to the command of
another, he obligeth himself to this, that he resign his strength
and means to him, whom he covenanteth to obey. And hereby he that is
to command, may by the use of all their means and strength, be able
by the terror thereof, to frame the will of them all to unity and
concord, amongst themselves.
[Sidenote: Body politic defined.]
8. This union so made, is that which men call now a-days, a _body
politic_, or civil society; and the Greeks call it πόλις, that is to
say, a city, which may be defined to be a multitude of men, united
as one person, by a common power, for their common peace, defence,
and benefit.
[Sidenote: Corporation defined.]
9. And as this union into a city or body politic, is instituted with
common power over all the particular persons, or members thereof, to
the common good of them all; so also may there be amongst a
multitude of those members instituted, a subordinate union of
certain men, for certain common actions to be done by those men for
some common benefit of theirs, or of the whole city; as for
subordinate government, for counsel, for trade, and the like. And
these subordinate bodies politic are usually called _corporations_;
and their power such over the particulars of their own society, as
the whole city, whereof they are members, have allowed them.
[Sidenote: Sovereign and subject defined.]
10. In all cities, or bodies politic not subordinate, but
independent, that one man, or one council, to whom the particular
members have given that common power, is called their _sovereign_,
and his power, the sovereign power; which consisteth in the power
and the strength, that every of the members have transferrred to him
from themselves by covenant. And because it is impossible for any
man really to transfer his own strength to another, or for that
other to receive it; it is to be understood, that to transfer a
man’s power and strength, is no more but to lay by, or relinquish
his own right of resisting him to whom he so transferreth it. And
every member of the body politic, is called a _subject_, to wit, to
the _sovereign_.
[Sidenote: Two sorts of bodies politic, patrimonial and
commonwealth.]
11. The cause in general, which moveth a man to become subject to
another, is (as I have said already) the fear of not otherwise
preserving himself. And a man may subject himself to him that
invadeth, or may invade him, for fear of him; or men may join
amongst themselves, to subject themselves to such as they shall
agree upon for fear of others. And when many men subject themselves
the former way, there ariseth thence a body politic, as it were
naturally. From whence proceedeth _dominion_, _paternal_ and
_despotic_. And when they subject themselves the other way, by
mutual agreement amongst many, the body politic they make, is for
the most part, called a _commonwealth_, in distinction from the
former, though the name be the general name for them both. And I
shall speak in the first place of commonwealths, and afterwards of
bodies politic, patrimonial, and despotical.
THE SECOND PART.
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CHAPTER I.
1. Introduction. 2. A multitude before their union, &c. 3.
Express consent of every particular, &c. 4. Democratical,
aristocratical, and monarchical union may be instituted for
ever, or, &c. 5. Without security no private right relinquished.
6. Covenants of government, without power of coercion, are no
security. 7. Power coercive, &c. 8. The sword of war, &c. 9.
Decision in all debates, &c. annexed to the sword. 10. Laws
civil, &c. 11. Appointment of magistrates, &c. 12. Sovereign
power includeth impunity. 13. A supposed commonwealth, where
laws are made first, and the commonwealth after. 14. The same
refelled. 15. Mixed forms of government supposed in sovereignty.
16. That refelled. 17. Mixed government, &c. 18. Reason and
experience to prove absolute sovereignty somewhere in all
commonwealths. 19. Some principal, &c. marks of sovereignty.
[Sidenote: Introduction.]
1. That _Treatise of Human Nature_, which was formerly printed, hath
been wholly spent in the consideration of the natural power, and the
natural estate of man, namely, of his cognition and passions in the
first eleven chapters, and how from thence proceed his actions; in
the twelfth, how men know one another’s minds: in the last, in what
estate men’s passions set them. In the first, second, third, fourth,
and fifth chapters of the former Part of this Treatise is showed,
what estate they are directed unto by the dictates of reason, that
is to say, what be the principal articles of the law of nature. And
lastly, how a multitude of persons natural, are united by covenants
into one person civil, or body politic. In this part therefore shall
be considered, the nature of a body politic, and the laws thereof,
otherwise called civil laws. And whereas it hath been said in the
last chapter, and last section of the former part, that there be two
ways of erecting a body politic; one by arbitrary institution of
many men assembled together, which is like a creation out of nothing
by human wit; the other by compulsion, which is as it were a
generation thereof out of natural force; I shall first speak of such
erection of a body politic, as proceedeth from the assembly and
consent of a multitude.
[Sidenote: A multitude before their union, &c.]
2. Having in this place to consider, a multitude of men about to
unite themselves into a body politic, for their security, both
against one another, and against common enemies, and that by
covenants; the knowledge of what covenants they must needs make,
dependeth on the knowledge of the persons, and the knowledge of
their end. First, for their persons they are many, and (as yet) not
one; nor can any action done in a multitude of people met together,
be attributed to the multitude, or truly called the action of the
multitude, unless every man’s hand, and every man’s will, (not so
much as one excepted) have concurred thereto. For multitude, though
in their persons they run together, yet they concur not always in
their designs. For even at that time when men are in tumult, though
they agree a number of them to one mischief, and a number of them to
another; yet, in the whole, they are amongst themselves in the state
of hostility, and not of peace; like the seditious Jews besieged in
Jerusalem, that could join against their enemies, and fight amongst
themselves. Whensoever therefore any man saith, that a number of men
hath done any act, it is to be understood, that every particular man
in that number hath consented thereunto, and not the greatest part
only. Secondly, though thus assembled with intention to unite
themselves, they are yet in that estate in which every man hath
right to everything, and consequently, as hath been said, chapter I.
section 10, in an estate of enjoying nothing. And therefore _meum_
and _tuum_ hath no place amongst them.
[Sidenote: Express consent of every particular, &c.]
3. The first thing therefore they are to do, is expressly every man
to consent to something, by which they may come near to their ends,
which can be nothing else imaginable, but this, that they allow the
wills of the major part of their whole number, or the wills of the
major part of some certain number of men by them determined and
named; or lastly, the will of some one man, to involve and be taken
for the wills of every man. And this done, they are united, and a
_body politic_. And if the major part of their whole number be
supposed to involve the wills of all the particulars, then are they
said to be a _democracy_, that is to say, a government wherein the
whole number, or so many of them as please, being assembled
together, are the sovereign, and every particular man a subject. If
the major part of a certain number of men named or distinguished
from the rest, be supposed to involve the wills of every one of the
particulars, then are they said to be an _oligarchy_, or
_aristocracy_, which two words signify the same thing, together with
the divers passions of those that use them. For when the men that be
in that office please, they are called an aristocracy, or otherwise
an oligarchy, wherein those, the major part of which declare the
wills of the whole multitude being assembled, are the sovereign, and
every man severally a subject. Lastly, if their consent be such,
that the will of one man, whom they name, shall stand for the wills
of them all, then is their government or union called a _monarchy_,
and that one man a sovereign, and every of the rest a subject.
[Sidenote: Democratical, aristocratical, and monarchical union may
be instituted for ever.]
4. And those several sorts of unions, governments, and subjections
of man’s will, may be understood to be made, either absolutely, that
is to say, for all future time, or for a time limited only. But
forasmuch as we speak here of a body politic, instituted for the
perpetual benefit and defence of them that make it; which therefore
men desire should last for ever, I will omit to speak of those that
be temporary, and consider of those that be for ever.
[Sidenote: Without security no private right relinquished.]
5. The end for which one man giveth up, and relinquisheth to
another, or others, the right of protecting and defending himself by
his own power, is the security which he expecteth thereby, of
protection and defence from those to whom he doth so relinquish it;
and a man may then account himself in the estate of security, when
he can foresee no violence to be done unto him, from which the doer
may not be deterred by the power of that sovereign, to whom they
have every one subjected themselves: and without that security,
there is no reason for a man to deprive himself of his own
advantages, and make himself a prey to others. And therefore when
there is not such a sovereign power erected, as may afford this
security, it is to be understood, that every man’s right of doing
whatsoever seemeth good in his own eyes, remaineth still with him;
and contrariwise, where any subject hath right by his own judgment
and discretion, to make use of his force, it is to be understood,
that every man hath the like, and consequently, that there is no
commonwealth at all established. How far therefore in the making of
a commonwealth, man subjecteth his will to the power of others, must
appear from the end, namely, security. For whatsoever is necessary
to be by covenant transferred, for the attaining thereof, so much is
transferred, or else every man is in his natural liberty to secure
himself.
[Sidenote: Covenants of government without power of coercion, are no
security.]
6. Covenants agreed upon by every man assembled for the making of a
commonwealth, and put in writing without erecting of a power of
coercion, are no reasonable security for any of them that so
covenant, nor are to be called laws, and leave men still in the
estate of nature and hostility. For seeing the wills of most men are
governed only by fear, and where there is no power of coercion,
there is no fear, the wills of most men will follow their passions
of covetousness, lust, anger, and the like, to the breaking of those
covenants, whereby the rest, also, who otherwise would keep them,
are set at liberty, and have no law, but from themselves.
[Sidenote: Power coercive, &c.]
7. This power of coercion, as hath been said, chap. II. sect. 3, of
the former part, consisteth in the transferring of every man’s right
of resistance against him, to whom he hath transferred the power of
coercion. It followeth therefore, that no man in any commonwealth
whatsoever, hath right to resist him, or them, to whom they have
transferred this power coercive, or (as men use to call it) the
sword of justice, supposing the not-resistance possible. For, Part
I. chapter II. sect. 18, covenants bind but to the utmost of our
endeavour.
[Sidenote: The sword of war, &c.]
8. And forasmuch as they who are amongst themselves in security, by
the means of this sword of justice, that keeps them all in awe, are
nevertheless in danger of enemies from without, if there be not some
means found, to unite their strengths and natural forces, in the
resistance of such enemies, their peace amongst themselves is but in
vain. And therefore it is to be understood as a covenant of every
member to contribute their several forces for the defence of the
whole, whereby to make one power as sufficient, as is possible for
their defence. Now seeing that every man hath already transferred
the use of his strength to him, or them, that have the sword of
justice, it followeth, that the power of defence, that is to say,
the sword of war, be in the same hands wherein is the sword of
justice; and consequently those two swords are but one, and that
inseparably and essentially annexed to the sovereign power.
[Sidenote: Decision in all debates, &c. annexed to the sword.]
9. Moreover, seeing to have the right of the sword, is nothing else
but to have the use thereof depending only on the judgment and
discretion of him or them that have it, it followeth, that the power
of indenture in all controversies, wherein the sword of justice is
to be used; and in all deliberations concerning war, wherein the use
of that sword is required, the right of resolving and determining
what is to be done, belong to the same sovereign.
[Sidenote: Laws civil, &c.]
10. Further, considering it is no less, but much more necessary to
prevent violence and rapine, than to punish the same when it is
committed, and all violence proceedeth from controversies that arise
between men concerning _meum_ and _tuum_, right and wrong, good and
bad, and the like, which men use every one to measure by their own
judgments, it belongeth also to the judgment of the same sovereign
power, to set forth and make known the common measure by which every
man is to know what is his, and what another’s; what is good, and
what bad, and what he ought to do, and what not, and to command the
same to be observed. And these measures of the actions of the
subjects are those, which men call _laws politic_, or civil: the
making whereof, must of right belong to him that hath the power of
the sword, by which men are compelled to observe them; for otherwise
they should be made in vain.
[Sidenote: Appointment of magistrates, &c.]
11. Furthermore, seeing it is impossible that any one man that hath
such sovereign power, can be able, in person, to hear and determine
all controversies, to be present at all deliberations concerning
common good, and to execute and perform all those common actions
that belong thereunto, whereby there will be necessity of
magistrates and ministers of public affairs; it is consequent, that
the appointment, nomination, and limitation of the same be
understood, as an inseparable part of the same sovereignty, to which
the sum of all judicature, and execution, hath been already annexed.
[Sidenote: Sovereign power includeth impunity.]
12. And forasmuch, as the right to use the forces of every
particular member, is transferred from themselves, to their
sovereign, a man will easily fall upon this conclusion of himself,
that to sovereign power, whatsoever it doth, there belongeth
impunity.
[Sidenote: A supposed commonwealth where laws are made first, and
the commonwealth after.]
13. The sum of these rights of sovereignty; namely, the absolute use
of the sword in peace and war, the making and abrogating of laws,
_supreme judicature, and decision_, in all debates judicial and
deliberative, the nomination of all magistrates and ministers, with
other rights contained in the same, make the sovereign power no less
absolute in the commonwealth, than before commonwealth every man was
absolute in himself, to do, or not to do, what he thought good;
which men, that have not had the experience of that miserable
estate, to which men are reduced by long war, think so hard a
condition, that they cannot easily acknowledge such covenants, and
subjection on their parts, as are here set down, to have been ever
necessary to their peace. And therefore some have imagined, that a
commonwealth may be constituted in such manner, as the sovereign
power may be so limited, and moderated, as they shall think fit
themselves. For example: they suppose a multitude of men to have
agreed upon certain articles, which they presently call laws,
declaring how they will be governed, and that done, to agree further
upon some man, or number of men, to see the same articles performed,
and put in execution; and to enable him, or them, thereunto, they
allot unto them a provision limited, as of certain lands, taxes,
penalties, and the like, than which, if mispent, they shall have no
more, without a new consent of the same men that allowed the former.
And thus they think they have made a commonwealth, in which it is
unlawful for any private man to make use of his own sword for his
security; wherein they deceive themselves.
[Sidenote: The same refelled.]
14. For first, if to the revenue, it did necessarily follow, that
there might be forces raised and procured at the will of him that
hath such revenue; yet since the revenue is limited, so must also
the forces: but limited forces against the power of an enemy, which
we cannot limit, are unsufficient. Whensoever therefore there
happeneth an invasion greater than those forces are able to resist,
and there be no other right to levy more, then is every man, by
necessity of nature, allowed to make the best provision he can for
himself; and thus is the private sword, and the estate of war again
reduced. But seeing revenue, without the right of commanding men, is
of no use, neither in peace, nor war, it is necessary to be
supposed, that he that hath the administration of those articles,
which are in the former section supposed, must have also right to
make use of the strengths of particular men. And what reason soever
giveth him that right over any one, giveth him the same over all.
And then is his right absolute. For he that hath right to all their
forces, hath right to dispose of the same. Again, supposing those
limited forces and revenue, either by the necessary, or negligent
use of them, to fail, and that for a supply, the same multitude be
again to be assembled, who shall have power to assemble them, that
is to compel them to come together? If he that demandeth the supply
hath that right, to wit, the right to compel them all, then is his
sovereignty absolute; if not, then is every particular man at
liberty to come or not; to frame a new commonwealth, or not, and so
the right of the private sword returneth. But suppose them
willingly, and of their own accord, assembled to consider of this
supply, if now it be still in their choice, whether they shall give
it, or not, it is also in their choice, whether the commonwealth
shall stand or not. And therefore there lieth not upon any of them
any civil obligation that may hinder them from using force, in case
they think it tend to their defence. This device therefore of them
that will make civil laws first, and then a civil body afterwards,
(as if policy made a body politic, and not a body politic made
policy) is of no effect.
[Sidenote: Mixed forms of government supposed in sovereignty.]
15. Others, to avoid the hard condition, as they take it, of
absolute subjection, which, in hatred thereto, they also call
slavery, have devised a government, as they think, mixed of the
three sorts of sovereignty. As for example: they suppose the power
of making laws, given to some great assembly democratical, the power
of judicature to some other assembly, and the administration of the
laws to a third, or to some one man; and this policy they call mixed
monarchy, or mixed aristocracy, or mixed democracy, according as any
of these three sorts do most visibly predominate. And in this estate
of government, they think the use of the private sword excluded.
[Sidenote: That refelled.]
16. And supposing it were so, how were this condition, which they
call _slavery_, eased thereby. For in this estate they would have no
man allowed, either to be his own judge, or own carver, or to make
any laws unto himself; and as long as these three agree, they are as
absolutely subject to them, as is a child to the father, or a slave
to the master, in the state of nature. The ease therefore of this
subjection, must consist in the disagreement of those amongst whom
they have distributed the rights of sovereign power. But the same
disagreement is war. The division therefore of the sovereignty,
either worketh no effect to the taking away of simple subjection, or
introduceth war, wherein the private sword hath place again. But the
truth is, as hath been already showed in the seventh, eighth, ninth,
tenth, eleventh, and twelfth precedent sections, the sovereignty is
indivisible. And that seeming mixture of several kinds of
government, is not mixture of the things themselves, but confusion
in our understandings, that cannot find out readily to whom we have
subjected ourselves.
[Sidenote: Mixed government, &c.]
17. But though the sovereignty be not mixed, but be always either
simple democracy, or simple aristocracy, or pure monarchy,
nevertheless in the administration thereof, all those sorts of
government may have place subordinate. For suppose the sovereign
power be democracy, as it was sometimes in Rome, yet at the same
time they may have a council aristocratical, such as was the senate;
and at the same time they may have a subordinate monarch, such as
was their dictator, who had, for a time, the exercise of the whole
sovereignty, and such as are all generals in war. So also in
monarchy there may be a council aristocratical of men, chosen by the
monarch; or democratical of men, chosen by the consent, the monarch
permitting, of all the particular men of the commonwealth. And this
mixture is it that imposeth, as if it were the mixture of
sovereignty. As if a man should think, because the great council of
Venice doth nothing ordinarily but choose magistrates, ministers of
state, captains, and governors of towns, ambassadors, counsellors,
and the like, that therefore their part of the sovereignty is only
choosing of magistrates; and that the making of war, and peace, and
laws, were not theirs, but the part of such counsellors as they
appointed thereto: whereas it is the part of _these_ to do it but
subordinately, the supreme authority thereof being in the great
council that choose them.
[Sidenote: Reason and experience to prove absolute sovereignty
somewhere in all commonwealths.]
18. And as reason teacheth us, that a man, considered out of
subjection to laws, and out of all covenants obligatory to others,
is free to do and undo, and deliberate as long as he listeth, every
member being obedient to the will of the whole man, that liberty
being nothing else but his natural power, without which he is no
better than an inanimate creature, not able to help himself; so also
it teacheth us, that a body politic, of what kind soever, not
subject to another, nor obliged by covenants, ought to be free, and
in all actions to be assisted by the members, every one in their
place, or at least, not resisted by them. For otherwise, the power
of a body politic, the essence whereof is the not-resistance of the
members, is none, nor a body politic of any benefit. And the same is
confirmed by the use of all nations and commonwealths, wherein that
man or council, which is virtually the whole, hath any absolute
power over every particular member; or what nation or commonwealth
is there, that hath not power and right to constitute a general in
their wars? But the power of a general is absolute; and consequently
there was absolute power in the commonwealth, from whom it was
derived. For no person, natural or civil, can transfer unto another
more power than himself hath.
[Sidenote: Some principal, &c. marks of sovereignty.]
19. In every commonwealth, where particular men are deprived of
their right to protect themselves, there resideth an absolute
sovereignty, as I have already showed. But in what man, or in what
assembly of men the same is placed, is not so manifest, as not to
need some marks, whereby it may be discerned. And first, it is an
infallible mark of absolute sovereignty in a man, or in an assembly
of men, if there be no right in any other person, natural or civil,
to punish that man, or to dissolve that assembly. For he that cannot
of right be punished, cannot of right be resisted; and he that
cannot of right be resisted, hath coercive power over all the rest,
and thereby can frame and govern their actions at his pleasure,
which is absolute sovereignty. Contrariwise, he that in a
commonwealth is punishable by any, or that assembly that is
dissolvable, is not sovereign. For a greater power is always
required to punish and dissolve, than theirs who are punished or
dissolved; and that power cannot be called sovereign, than which
there is a greater. Secondly, that man or assembly, that by their
own right not derived from the present right of any other, may make
laws, or abrogate them at his or their pleasure, have the
sovereignty absolute. For seeing the laws they make, are supposed to
be made by right, the members of the commonwealth, to whom they are
made, are obliged to obey them, and consequently not resist the
execution of them; which not-resistance, maketh the power absolute
of him that ordaineth them. It is likewise a mark of this
sovereignty, to have the right original of appointing magistrates,
judges, counsellors, and ministers of state. For without that power,
no act of sovereignty, or government, can be performed. Lastly, and
generally, whosoever by his own authority independent, can do any
act, which another of the same commonwealth may not, must needs be
understood to have the sovereign power. For by nature men have equal
right. This inequality therefore must proceed from the power of the
commonwealth. He therefore that doth any act lawfully by his own
authority, which another may not, doth it by the power of the
commonwealth in himself, which is absolute sovereignty.
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CHAPTER II.
1. Democracy precedeth all other, &c. 2.. The sovereign people
covenanteth not with the subjects. 3. The sovereign, &c. cannot,
&c. do injury, &c. 4. The faults of the sovereign people, &c. 5.
Democracy, &c. an aristocracy of orators. 6. Aristocracy how
made. 7. The body of the _optimates_ not properly said to injure
the subjects. 8. The election of the _optimates_, &c. 9. An
elective king, &c. 10. A conditional king, &c. 11. The word
people equivocal. 12. Obedience discharged by release, &c. 13.
How such releases are to be understood. 14. Obedience discharged
by exile: 15. By conquest: 16. By ignorance of the right of
succession.
[Sidenote: Democracy precedeth all other, &c.]
1. Having spoken in general concerning instituted policy in the
former chapter, I come in this, to speak of the sorts thereof in
special, how every of them is instituted. The first in order of time
of these three sorts, is democracy; and it must be so of necessity,
because an aristocracy and a monarchy, require nomination of persons
agreed upon, which agreement in a great multitude of men, must
consist in the consent of the major part; and where the votes of the
major part involve the votes of the rest, there is actually a
democracy.
[Sidenote: The sovereign people covenanteth not with the subjects.]
2. In the making of a democracy, there passeth no covenant between
the sovereign, and any subject. For while the democracy is a making,
there is no sovereign with whom to contract. For it cannot be
imagined, that the multitude should contract with itself, or with
any one man, or number of men, parcel of itself, to make itself
sovereign; nor that a multitude, considered as one aggregate, can
give itself anything which before it had not. Seeing then that
sovereignty democratical is not conferred by the covenant of any
multitude, which supposeth union and sovereignty already made, it
resteth, that the same be conferred by the particular covenants of
every several man; that is to say, every man with every man, for and
in consideration of the benefit of his own peace and defence,
covenanteth to stand to and obey whatsoever the major part of their
whole number, or the major part of such a number of them, as shall
be pleased to assemble at a certain time and place, shall determine
and command. And this is that which giveth being to a democracy,
wherein the sovereign assembly was called of the Greeks, by the name
of _Demus_, that is, the people, from whence cometh democracy. So
that, where to the supreme and independent court, every man may come
that will, and give his vote, there the sovereign is called the
people.
[Sidenote: The sovereign, &c. cannot, &c. do injury, &c.]
3. Out of this that hath been said, may readily be drawn, that
whatsoever the people doth to any one particular member or subject
of the commonwealth, the same by him ought not to be styled injury.
For first, injury, by the definition, Part I. chap. III. sect. 2, is
breach of covenant; but covenants, as hath been said in the
precedent section, there passed none from the people to any private
man; and consequently it, to wit, the people, can do him no injury.
Secondly, how unjust soever the action be, that this sovereign
_demus_ shall do, is done by the will of every particular man
subject to him, who are therefore guilty of the same. If therefore
they style it _injury_, they but accuse themselves. And it is
against reason for the same man, both to do and complain; implying
this contradiction, that whereas he first ratified the people’s acts
in general, he now disalloweth the same of them in particular. It is
therefore said truly, _volenti non fit injuria_. Nevertheless
nothing doth hinder, but that divers actions done by the people, may
be unjust before God Almighty, as breaches of the laws of nature.
[Sidenote: The faults of the sovereign people, &c.]
4. And when it happeneth, that the people by plurality of voices,
decree or command anything contrary to the law of God or nature,
though the decree and command be the act of every man, not only
present in the assembly, but also absent from it; yet is not the
injustice of the decree, the injustice of every particular man, but
only of those men, by whose express suffrages, the decree or command
was passed. For a body politic, as it is a fictitious body, so are
the faculties and will thereof fictitious also. But to make a
particular man unjust, which consisteth of a body and soul natural,
there is required a natural and very will.
[Sidenote: Democracy, &c. an aristocracy of orators.]
5. In all democracies, though the right of sovereignty be in the
assembly, which is virtually the whole body; yet the use thereof is
always in one, or a few particular men. For in such great
assemblies, as those must be, whereinto every man may enter at his
pleasure, there is no means any ways to deliberate and give counsel
what to do, but by long and set orations, whereby to every man there
is more or less hope given, to incline and sway the assembly to
their own ends. In a multitude of speakers therefore, where always
either one is eminent alone, or a few being equal amongst
themselves, are eminent above the rest, that one or few must of
necessity sway the whole. Insomuch, that a democracy, in effect, is
no more than an aristocracy of orators, interrupted sometimes with
the temporary monarchy of one orator.
[Sidenote: Aristocracy how made.]
6. And seeing a democracy is by institution, the beginning both of
aristocracy and monarchy, we are to consider next, how aristocracy
is derived from it. When the particular members of the commonwealth
growing weary of attendance at public courts, as dwelling far off,
or being attentive to their private businesses, and withal,
displeased with the government of the people, assemble themselves to
make an aristocracy, there is no more required to the making thereof
but putting to the question one by one, the names of such men as it
shall consist of, and assenting to their election; and by plurality
of vote, to transfer that power, which before the people had, to the
number of men so named and chosen.
[Sidenote: The body of the _optimates_ not properly said to injure
the subjects.]
7. And from this manner of erecting an aristocracy, it is manifest,
that the few, or _optimates_, have entered into no covenant with any
of the particular members of the commonwealth, whereof they are
sovereign; and consequently cannot do any thing to any private man,
that can be called _injury_ to him, howsoever their act be wicked
before Almighty God, according to that which hath been said before,
section 3. Further, it is impossible, that the people, as one body
politic, should covenant with the aristocracy or _optimates_, on
whom they intend to transfer their sovereignty. For no sooner is the
aristocracy erected, but the democracy is annihilated, and the
covenants made unto them void.
[Sidenote: The election of the _optimates_, &c.]
8. In all aristocracies, the admission of such, as are from time to
time to have vote in the sovereign assembly, dependeth on the will
and decree of the present _optimates_. For they being the sovereign,
have the nomination, by the eleventh section of the former chapter,
of all magistrates, ministers, and counsellors of state whatsoever,
and may therefore choose either to make them elective, or
hereditary, at their pleasure.
[Sidenote: An elective king, &c.]
9. Out of the same democracy, the institution of a political monarch
proceedeth in the same manner, as did the institution of the
aristocracy, to wit, by a decree of the sovereign people, to pass
the sovereignty to one man named and approved by plurality of
suffrage. And if this sovereignty be truly and indeed transferred,
the estate or commonwealth is an absolute monarchy, wherein the
monarch is at liberty, to dispose as well of the succession, as of
the possession, and not an elective kingdom. For suppose a decree be
made first in this manner, that such a one shall have the
sovereignty for his life, and that afterward they will choose a-new.
In this case, the power of the people is dissolved, or not; if
dissolved, then after the death of him that is chosen, there is no
man bound to stand to the decrees of them that shall, as private
men, run together to make a new election; and consequently, if there
be any man, who by the advantage of the reign of him that is dead,
hath strength enough to hold the multitude in peace and obedience,
he may lawfully, or rather is by the law of nature obliged so to do:
if this power of the people were not dissolved at the choosing of
their king for life, then is the people sovereign still, and the
king a minister thereof only, but so, as to put the whole
sovereignty in execution; a great minister, but no otherwise for his
time, than a dictator was in Rome. In this case, at the death of him
that was chosen, they that meet for a new election, have no new, but
their old authority for the same. For they were the sovereign all
the time, as appeareth by the acts of those elective kings, that
have procured from the people, that their children might succeed
them. For it is to be understood, when a man receiveth any thing
from the authority of the people, he receiveth it not from the
people his subjects, but from the people his sovereign. And further,
though in the election of a king for his life, the people grant him
the exercise of their sovereignty for that time; yet if they see
cause, they may recall the same before the time. As a prince that
conferreth an office for life, may nevertheless, upon suspicion of
abuse thereof, recall it at his pleasure; inasmuch as offices that
require labour and care, are understood to pass from him that giveth
them, as _onera_, _burthens_, to them that have them; the recalling
whereof are therefore not _injury_, but _favour_. Nevertheless, if
in making an elective king, with intention to reserve the
sovereignty, they reserve not a power at certain known and
determined times and places to assemble themselves, the reservation
of their sovereignty is of no effect, inasmuch as no man is bound to
stand to the decrees and determinations of those that assemble
themselves without the sovereign authority.
[Sidenote: A conditional king, &c.]
10. In the former section is showed, that elective kings that
exercise their sovereignty for a time, which determines with their
life, either are subjects, or not sovereigns; and that it is, when
the people in election of them, reserve unto themselves the right of
assembling at certain times and places limited and made known; or
else absolute sovereigns, to dispose of the succession at their
pleasure, and that is, when the people in their election have
declared no time nor place of their meeting, or have left it to the
power of the elected king, to assemble and dissolve them at such
times, as he himself shall think good. There is another kind of
limitation of time, to him that shall be elected to use the
sovereign power, which whether it hath been practised anywhere, or
not, I know not, but it may be imagined, and hath been objected
against the rigour of sovereign power; and it is this, that the
people transfer their sovereignty upon conditions. As for example,
for so long as he shall observe such and such laws, as they then
prescribe him. And here as before in elected kings, the question is
to be made, whether in the electing of such a sovereign, they
reserved to themselves a right of assembling at times and places
limited and known, or not; if not, then is the sovereignty of the
people dissolved, and they have neither power to judge of the breach
of the conditions given him, nor to command any forces for the
deposing of him, whom on that condition they had set up, but are in
the estate of war amongst themselves, as they were before they made
themselves a democracy: and consequently, if he that is elected by
the advantage of the possession he hath of the public means, be able
to compel them to unity and obedience, he hath not only the right of
nature to warrant him, but the law of nature to oblige him
thereunto. But if in electing him, they reserved to themselves a
right of assembling, and appointed certain times and places to that
purpose, then are they sovereign still, and may call their
conditional king to account at their pleasure, and deprive him of
his government, if they judge he deserve it, either by breach of the
condition set him, or otherwise. For the sovereign power can by no
covenant with a subject be bound to continue him in the charge he
undergoeth by their command, as a burden imposed not particularly
for his good, but for the good of the sovereign people.
[Sidenote: The word people equivocal]
11. The controversies that arise concerning the right of the people,
proceed from the equivocation of the word. For the word people hath
a double signification. In one sense it signifieth only a number of
men, distinguished by the place of their habitation; as the _people_
of England, or the _people_ of France, which is no more, but the
multitude of those particular persons that inhabit those regions,
without consideration of any contracts or covenants amongst them, by
which any one of them is obliged to the rest. In another sense, it
signifieth a person civil, that is to say, either one man, or one
council, in the will whereof, is included and involved the will of
every one in particular. As for example, in this latter sense, the
lower house of parliament is all the commons, as long as they sit
there with authority and right thereto; but after they be dissolved,
though they remain, they be no more the people, nor the commons, but
only the aggregate, or multitude of the particular men there
sitting, how well soever they agree, or concur, in opinions amongst
themselves; whereupon, they that do not distinguish between these
two significations, do usually attribute such rights to a dissolved
multitude, as belong only to the people virtually contained in the
body of the commonwealth or sovereignty. And when a great number of
their own authority flock together in any nation, they usually give
them the name of the whole nation. In which sense they say the
people rebelleth, or the people demandeth, when it is no more than a
dissolved multitude, of which though any one man may be said to
demand or have right to something, yet the heap, or multitude,
cannot be said to demand or have right to anything. For where every
man hath his right distinct, there is nothing left for the multitude
to have right unto: and when the particulars say, this is mine, this
is thine, and this is his, and have shared all amongst them, there
can be nothing whereof the multitude can say, this is mine; nor are
they one body, as behoveth them to be, that demand anything under
the name of mine, or his: and when they say ours, every man is
understood to pretend in several, and not the multitude. On the
other side, when the multitude is united into a body politic, and
thereby are a people in the other signification, and their wills
virtually in the sovereign, there the rights and demands of the
particulars do cease; and he or they that have the sovereign power,
doth for them all, demand, and vindicate under the name of his, that
which before they called in the plural, theirs.
[Sidenote: Obedience discharged by release, &c.]
12. We have seen how particular men enter into subjection, by
transferring their rights; it followeth to consider, how such
subjection may be discharged. And first, if he or they that have the
sovereign power, shall relinquish the same voluntarily, there is no
doubt, but every man is again at liberty to obey, or not. Likewise,
if he or they retaining the sovereignty over the rest, do
nevertheless exempt some one or more, from their subjection, every
man so exempted, is discharged. For he or they to whom any man is
obliged, hath the power to release him.
[Sidenote: How such releases are to be understood.]
13. And here it is to be understood, that when he or they that have
the sovereign power, give such exemption, or privilege, to a
subject, as is not separable from the sovereignty, and nevertheless
directly retaineth the sovereign power, not knowing the consequence
of the privilege they grant, the person or persons exempted or
privileged, are not thereby released. For in contradictory
significations of the will (_Human Nature_, chap. XIII. sect. 9),
that which is directly signified, is to be understood for the will,
before that which is drawn from it by consequence.
[Sidenote: Obedience discharged by exile.]
14. Also exile perpetual, is a release of subjection, forasmuch, as
being out of the protection of the sovereignty that expelled him, he
hath no means of subsisting but from himself. Now every man may
lawfully defend himself, that hath no other defence; else there had
been no necessity that any man should enter into voluntary
subjection, as they do in commonwealths.
[Sidenote: By conquest.]
15. Likewise a man is released of his subjection by conquest. For
when it cometh to pass, that the power of a commonwealth is
overthrown, and any particular man thereby lying under the sword of
his enemy, yieldeth himself captive, he is thereby bound to serve
him that taketh him, and consequently discharged of his obligation
to the former. For no man can serve two masters.
[Sidenote: By ignorance of the right of succession.]
16. Lastly, ignorance of the succession dischargeth obedience. For
no man can be understood to be obliged to obey he knoweth not whom.
CHAPTER III.
1, 2. Titles to dominion: master and servant, &c. 3. Chains and
other, &c. Bonds, &c. Slave defined. 4. Servants have no
property against their lord, &c. 5. The master hath right to
alienate his servant. 6. The servant of the servant, &c. 7. How
servitude is discharged. 8. The middle lord, &c. 9. The title of
man, &c. over beasts.
[Sidenote: Titles to dominion; master and servant, &c.]
1. Having set forth in the two preceding chapters, the nature of a
commonwealth _institutive_ by the consent of many men together, I
come now to speak of dominion, or a body politic by acquisition,
which is commonly called a _patrimonial_ kingdom. But before I enter
thereinto, it is necessary to make known upon what title one man may
acquire right, that is to say, property or dominion, over the person
of another. For when one man hath dominion over another, there is a
little kingdom. And to be a king by acquisition, is nothing else,
but to have acquired a right or dominion over many.
2. Considering men therefore again in the state of nature, without
covenants or subjection one to another, as if they were but even now
all at once created male and female, there be three titles only, by
which one man may have right and dominion over another; whereof two
may take place presently, and those are, voluntary offer of
subjection, and yielding by compulsion: the third is to take place,
upon the supposition of children begotten amongst them. Concerning
the first of these three titles, it is handled before in the two
last chapters. For from thence cometh the right of sovereigns over
their subjects in a commonwealth institutive. Concerning the second
title, which is when a man submitteth to an assailant for fear of
death, thereby accrueth a right of dominion. For where every man, as
it happeneth in this case, hath right to all things, there needs no
more for the making of the said right effectual, but a covenant from
him that is overcome, not to resist him that overcometh. And thus
cometh the victor to have right of absolute dominion over the
conquered. By which there is presently constituted a little body
politic, which consisteth of two persons, the one sovereign, which
is called the _master_, or lord; the other subject, which is called
the _servant_. And when a man hath acquired right over a number of
servants so considerable, as they cannot by their neighbours be
securely invaded, this body politic is a kingdom despotical.
[Sidenote: Chains and other, &c. bonds, &c. slave defined.]
3. And it is to be understood, that when a servant taken in the
wars, is kept bound in natural bonds, as chains, and the like, or in
prison, there hath passed no covenant from the servant to his
master. For those natural bonds have no need of strengthening by the
verbal bonds of covenant, and they show that the servant is not
trusted. But covenant, (Part I. chapter II. section 9,) supposeth
trust. There remaineth therefore in the servant thus kept bound, or
in prison, a right of delivering himself, if he can, by what means
soever. This kind of servant is that which ordinarily and without
passion, is called a _slave_. The Romans had no such distinct name,
but comprehended all under the name of _servus_; whereof such as
they loved and durst trust, were suffered to go at liberty, and
admitted to places of office, both near to their persons, and in
their affairs abroad; the rest were kept chained, or otherwise
restrained with natural impediments to their resistance. And as it
was amongst the Romans, so it was amongst other nations, the former
sort having no other bond but a supposed covenant, without which the
master had no reason to trust them; the latter being without
covenant, and no otherwise tied to obedience, but by chains, or
other like forcible custody.
[Sidenote: Servants have no property against their lord, &c.]
4. A master therefore is to be supposed to have no less right over
those, whose bodies he leaveth at liberty, than over those he
keepeth in bonds and imprisonment, and hath absolute dominion over
both, and may say of his servant, that he is his, as he may of any
other thing. And whatsoever the servant had, and might call his, is
now the master’s; for he that disposeth of the person, disposeth of
all the person could dispose of: insomuch, as though there be _meum_
and _tuum_ amongst servants distinct from one another by the
dispensation, and for the benefit of their master; yet there is no
_meum_ and _tuum_ belonging to any of them against the master
himself, whom they are not to resist, but to obey all his commands
as law.
[Sidenote: The master hath right to alienate his servant.]
5. And seeing both the servant and all that is committed to him, is
the property of the master, and every man may dispose of his own,
and transfer the same at his pleasure, the master may therefore
alienate his dominion over them, or give the same by his last will
to whom he list.
[Sidenote: The servant of the servant, &c.]
6. And if it happen, that the master himself by captivity or
voluntary subjection, become servant to another, then is that other
master _paramount_; and those servants of him that becometh servant,
are no further obliged, than their master paramount shall think
good; forasmuch as he disposing of the master subordinate, disposeth
of all he hath, and consequently of his servants, so that the
restriction of absolute power in masters, proceedeth not from the
law of nature, but from the political law of him that is their
master supreme or sovereign.
[Sidenote: How servitude is discharged.]
7. Servants immediate to the supreme master, are discharged of their
servitude, or subjection, in the same manner that subjects are
released of their allegiance in a commonwealth institutive. As
first, by release. For he that captiveth, which is done by accepting
what the captive transferreth to him, setteth again at liberty, by
transferring back the same. And this kind of release is called
_manumission_. Secondly, by exile. For that is no more but
manumission given to a servant, not in the way of benefit, but
punishment. Thirdly, by a new captivity, where the servant having
done his endeavour to defend himself, hath thereby performed his
covenant to his former master, and for the safety of his life,
entering into new covenant with the conqueror, is bound to do his
best endeavour to keep that likewise. Fourthly, ignorance of who is
successor to his deceased master, dischargeth him of obedience: for
no covenant holdeth longer than a man knoweth to whom he is to
perform it. And lastly, that servant that is no longer trusted, but
committed to his chains and custody, is thereby discharged of the
obligation _in foro interno_, and therefore if he can get loose, may
lawfully go his way.
[Sidenote: The middle lord, &c.]
8. But servants subordinate, though manumitted by their immediate
lord, are not thereby discharged of their subjection to their lord
paramount. For the immediate master hath no property in them, having
transferred his right before to another, namely, to his own and
supreme master. Nor if the chief lord should manumit his immediate
servant, doth he thereby release his servants of their obligation to
him that is so manumitted. For by this manumission, he recovereth
again the absolute dominion he had over them before. For after a
release, which is the discharge of a covenant, the right standeth as
it did before the covenant was made.
[Sidenote: The title of man, &c. over beasts.]
9. This right of conquest, as it maketh one man master over another,
so also maketh it a man to be master of the irrational creatures.
For if a man in the state of nature be in hostility with men, and
thereby have lawful title to subdue or kill, according as his own
conscience and discretion shall suggest unto him for his safety and
benefit, much more may he do the same to beasts; that is to say,
save and preserve for his own service, according to his discretion,
such as are of nature apt to obey, and commodious for use; and to
kill and destroy, with perpetual war, all other, as fierce, and
noisome to him. And this dominion is therefore of the law of nature,
and not of the divine law positive. For if there had been no such
right before the revealing of God’s will in the Scripture, then
should no man, to whom the Scripture hath not come, have right to
make use of those his creatures, either for his food or sustenance.
And it were a hard condition of mankind, that a fierce and savage
beast should with more right kill a man, than a man a beast.
-------
CHAPTER IV.
1. The dominion over the child, &c. 2. Pre-eminence of sex giveth
not the child to the father, rather than to the mother. 3. The
title of the father or mother, &c. 4. The child of a
woman-servant, &c. 5. The right to the child given from the
mother, &c. 6. The child of the concubine, &c. 7. The child of
the husband and the wife, &c. 8. The father, or he or she that
bringeth up the child, have absolute power over him. 9. Freedom
in subjects what it is. 10. A great family is a patrimonial
kingdom. 11. Succession of the sovereign power, &c. 12. Though
the successor be not declared, yet there is always one to be
presumed. 13. The children preferred to the succession, &c. 14.
The males before the females. 15. The eldest before the rest of
the brothers. 16. The brother next to the children. 17. The
succession of the possessor, &c.
[Sidenote: The dominion over the child, &c.]
1. Of three ways by which a man becometh subject to another,
mentioned section 2, chapter the last, namely, voluntary offer,
captivity and birth, the former two have been spoken of, under the
name of subjects, and servants. In the next place, we are to set
down the third way of subjection, under the name of children, and by
what title one man cometh to have propriety in a child, that
proceedeth from the common generation of two; to wit, of male and
female. And considering men again dissolved from all covenants one
with another, and that (Part I. chap. IV. sect. 2) every man by the
law of nature, hath right or propriety to his own body, the child
ought rather to be the propriety of the mother, of whose body it is
part, till the time of separation, than of the father. For the
understanding therefore of the right that a man or woman hath to his
or their child, two things are to be considered; first, what title
the mother, or any other, originally hath, to a child new born:
secondly, how the father, or any other man, pretendeth by the
mother.
[Sidenote: Pre-eminence of sex giveth not the child to the father,
rather than to the mother.]
2. For the first, they that have written of this subject, have made
generation to be a title of dominion over persons, as well as the
consent of the persons themselves. And because generation giveth
title to two, namely, father and mother, whereas dominion is
indivisible, they therefore ascribe dominion over the child to the
father only, _ob præstantiam sexûs_; but they show not, neither can
I find out by what coherence, either generation inferreth dominion,
or advantage of so much strength, which, for the most part, a man
hath more than a woman, should generally and universally entitle the
father to a propriety in the child, and take it away from the
mother.
[Sidenote: The title of the father or mother, &c.]
3. The title to dominion over a child, proceedeth not from the
generation, but from the preservation of it; and therefore in the
estate of nature, the mother, in whose power it is to save or
destroy it, hath right thereto by that power, according to that
which hath been said, Part I. chapter I. sect. 13. And if the mother
shall think fit to abandon, or expose her child to death, whatsoever
man or woman shall find the child so exposed, shall have the same
right which the mother had before; and for this same reason, namely,
for the power not of generating, but preserving. And though the
child thus preserved, do in time acquire strength, whereby he might
pretend equality with him or her that hath preserved him, yet shall
that pretence be thought unreasonable, both because his strength was
the gift of him, against whom he pretendeth, and also because it is
to be presumed, that he which giveth sustenance to another, whereby
to strengthen him, hath received a promise of obedience in
consideration thereof. For else it would be wisdom in men, rather to
let their children perish, while they are infants, than to live in
their danger or subjection, when they are grown.
[Sidenote: The child of a woman servant, &c.]
4. For the pretences which a man may have to dominion over a child
by the right of the mother, they be of divers kinds. One by the
absolute subjection of the mother; another, by some particular
covenant from her, which is less than a covenant of such subjection.
By absolute subjection, the master of the mother, hath right to her
child, according to section 6, chapter III, whether he be the father
thereof, or not. And thus the children of the servant are the goods
of the master _in perpetuum_.
[Sidenote: The right to the child given from the mother, &c.]
5. Of covenants that amount not to subjection between a man and
woman, there be some which are made for a time; they are covenants
of cohabitation, or else of copulation only. And in this latter
case, the children pass by covenants particular. And thus in the
copulation of the Amazons with their neighbours, the fathers by
covenant had the male children only, the mothers retaining the
females.
[Sidenote: The child of the concubine, &c.]
6. And covenants of cohabitation are either for society of bed, or
for society of all things; if for society of bed only, then is the
woman called _a concubine_. And here also the child shall be his or
hers, as they shall agree particularly by covenant. For although for
the most part, a concubine is supposed to yield up the right of her
children to the father, yet doth not concubinate enforce so much.
[Sidenote: The child of the husband and the wife, &c.]
7. But if the covenants of cohabitation be for society of all
things, it is necessary that but one of them govern and dispose of
all that is common to them both; without which, as hath been often
said before, society cannot last. And therefore the man, to whom for
the most part the woman yieldeth the government, hath for the most
part, also, the sole right and dominion over the children. And the
man is called the husband, and the woman the wife. But because
sometimes the government may belong to the wife only, sometimes also
the dominion over the children shall be in her only. As in the case
of a sovereign queen, there is no reason that her marriage should
take from her the dominion over her children.
[Sidenote: The father, or he or she that bringeth up the child, have
absolute power over him.]
8. Children therefore, whether they be brought up and preserved by
the father, or by the mother, or by whomsoever, are in most absolute
subjection to him or her, that so bringeth them up, or preserveth
them. And they may alienate them, that is, assign his or her
dominion, by selling, or giving them, in adoption or servitude to
others; or may pawn them for hostages, kill them for rebellion, or
sacrifice them for peace, by the law of nature, when he or she, in
his or her conscience, think it to be necessary.
[Sidenote: Freedom in subjects what it is.]
9. The subjection of them who institute a commonwealth amongst
themselves, is no less absolute, than the subjection of servants.
And therein they are in equal estate. But the hope of those is
greater than the hope of these. For he that subjecteth himself
uncompelled, thinketh there is reason he should be better used, than
he that doth it upon compulsion; and coming in freely, calleth
himself, though in subjection, a _freeman_; whereby it appeareth,
that liberty is not any exemption from subjection and obedience to
the sovereign power, but a state of better hope than theirs, that
have been subjected by force and conquest. And this was the reason,
that the name which signifieth children in the Latin tongue, is
_liberi_, which also signifieth _freemen_. And yet in Rome, nothing
at that time was so obnoxious to the power of others, as children in
the family of their fathers. For both the state had power over their
life without consent of their fathers, and the father might kill his
son by his own authority, without any warrant from the state.
Freedom therefore in commonwealths is nothing but the honour of
equality of favour with other subjects, and servitude the estate of
the rest. A freeman therefore may expect employments of honour,
rather than a servant. And this is all that can be understood by the
liberty of the subject. For in all other senses, liberty is the
state of him that is not subject.
[Sidenote: A great family is a patrimonial kingdom.]
10. Now when a father that hath children, hath servants also, the
children, not by the right of the child, but by the natural
indulgence of the parents, are such freemen. And the whole,
consisting of the father or mother, or both, and of the children,
and of the servants, is called a _family_, wherein the father or
mother of the family is sovereign of the same, and the rest, both
children and servants equally, subjects. The same family, if it grow
by multiplication of children, either by generation, or adoption; or
of servants, either by generation, conquest, or voluntary
submission, to be so great and numerous, as in probability it may
protect itself, then is that family called a _patrimonial kingdom_,
or monarchy by acquisition, wherein the sovereignty is in one man,
as it is in a monarch made by _political institution_. So that
whatsoever rights be in the one, the same also be in the other. And
therefore I shall no more speak of them as distinct, but of monarchy
in general.
[Sidenote: Succession of the sovereign power, &c.]
11. Having showed by what right the several sorts of commonwealths,
democracy, aristocracy, and monarchy, are erected, it followeth, to
show by what right they are continued. The right by which they are
continued, is called the right of succession to the sovereign power;
whereof there is nothing to be said in a democracy, because the
sovereign dieth not, as long as there be subjects alive: nor in an
aristocracy, because it cannot easily fall out, that the _optimates_
should every one fail at once; and if it should so fall out, there
is no question, but the commonwealth is thereby dissolved. It is
therefore in a monarchy only, that there can happen a question
concerning the succession. And first, forasmuch as a monarch, which
is absolute sovereign, hath the dominion in his own right, he may
dispose thereof at his own will. If therefore by his last will, he
shall name his successor, the right passeth by that will.
[Sidenote: Though the successor be not declared, yet there is always
one to be presumed.]
12. Nor if the monarch die without any will concerning the
succession declared, it is not therefore to be presumed, it was his
will, his subjects, which are to him as his children and servants,
should return again to the state of anarchy, that is, to war and
hostility. For that were expressly against the law of nature, which
commandeth to procure peace, and to maintain the same. It is
therefore to be conjectured with reason, that it was his intention
to bequeath them peace, that is to say, a power coercive, whereby to
keep them from sedition amongst themselves; and rather in the form
of a monarchy, than any other government; forasmuch as he, by the
exercise thereof in his own person, hath declared, that he approveth
the same.
[Sidenote: The children preferred to the succession, &c.]
13. Further, it is to be supposed, his intention was, that his own
children should be preferred in the succession, when nothing to the
contrary is expressly declared, before any other. For men naturally
seek their own honour, and that consisteth in the honour of their
children after them.
[Sidenote: The males before the females.]
14. Again, seeing every monarch is supposed to desire to continue
the government in his successors, as long as he may; and that
generally men are endued with greater parts of wisdom and courage,
by which all monarchies are kept from dissolution, than women are;
it is to be presumed, where no express will is extant to the
contrary, he preferreth his male children before the female. Not but
that women may govern, and have in divers ages and places governed
wisely, but are not so apt thereto in general, as men.
[Sidenote: The eldest before the rest of the brothers.]
15. Because the sovereign power is indivisible, it cannot be
supposed, that he intended the same should be divided, but that it
should descend entirely upon one of them, which is to be presumed,
should be the eldest, assigned thereto by the lot of nature, because
he appointed no other lot for the decision thereof. Besides, what
difference of ability soever there may be amongst the brethren, the
odds shall be adjudged to the elder, because no subject hath
authority otherwise to judge thereof.
[Sidenote: The brother next to the children.]
16. And for want of issue in the possessor, the brother shall be
presumed successor. For by the judgment of nature, next in blood is
next in love; and next in love is next to preferment.
[Sidenote: The succession of the possessor, &c.]
17. And as the succession followeth the first monarch, so also it
followeth him or her that is in possession; and consequently, the
children of him in possession, shall be preferred before the
children of his father, or predecessor.
-------
CHAPTER V.
1. The utility of the commonwealth, &c. 2. The loss of liberty, &c.
3. Monarchy approved by, &c. 4. Monarchy less subject to
passion, &c. 5, 6. Subjects in monarchy, &c. 7. Laws in monarchy
less changeable, &c. 8. Monarchies less subject to dissolution.
[Sidenote: The utility of the commonwealth, &c.]
1. Having set forth the nature of a Body Politic, and the three
sorts thereof, democracy, aristocracy, and monarchy; in this chapter
shall be declared, the _conveniences_, and _inconveniences_, that
arise from the same, both in general, and of the said several sorts
in particular. And first, seeing a body politic is erected only for
the ruling and governing of particular men, the benefit and damage
thereof, consisteth in the benefit or damage of being ruled. The
benefit is that for which a body politic was instituted, namely, the
peace and preservation of every particular man, than which it is not
possible there can be a greater, as hath been touched before, Part
I. chapter I. section 12. And this benefit extendeth equally both to
the _sovereign_, and to the _subjects_. For he or they that have the
sovereign power, have but the defence of their persons, by the
assistance of the particulars; and every particular man hath his
defence by their union in the sovereign. As for other benefits,
which pertain not to their safety and sufficiency, but to their well
and delightful being, such as are superfluous riches, they so belong
to the sovereign, as they must also be in the subject; and so to the
subject, as they must also be in the sovereign. For the riches and
treasure of the sovereign, is the dominion he hath over the riches
of his subjects. If therefore the sovereign provide not so as that
particular men may have means, both to preserve themselves, and also
to preserve the public; the common or sovereign treasure can be
none. And on the other side, if it were not for a common and public
treasure belonging to the sovereign power, men’s private riches
would sooner serve to put them into confusion and war, than to
secure and maintain them. Insomuch, as the profit of the sovereign
and subject goeth always together. That distinction therefore of
government, that there is one government for the good of him that
governeth, and another for the good of them that be governed;
whereof the former is _despotical_, that is lordly; the other, a
government of _freemen_, is not right. No more is the opinion of
them that hold it to be no city, which consisteth of a master and
his servants. They might as well say, it were no city, that
consisted in a father and his own issue, how numerous soever they
were. For to a master that hath no children, the servants have in
them all those respects, for which men love their children. For they
are his strength and his honour. And his power is no greater over
them, than over his children.
[Sidenote: The loss of liberty, &c.]
2. The inconvenience arising from government in general to him that
governeth, consisteth partly in the continual care and trouble about
the business of other men, that are his subjects; and partly, in the
danger of his person. For the head always is that part, not only
where the care resideth, but also against which the stroke of an
enemy most commonly is directed. To balance this incommodity, the
sovereignty, together with the necessity of this care and danger,
comprehendeth so much honour, riches, and means, whereby to delight
the mind, as no private man’s wealth can attain unto. The
inconveniences of government in general to a subject are none at
all, if well considered, but in appearance. There be two things that
may trouble his mind, or two general grievances; the one is, loss of
liberty; the other, the uncertainty of _meum_ and _tuum_. For the
first, it consisteth in this, that a subject may no more govern his
own actions according to his own discretion and judgment, or, which
is all one, conscience, as the present occasions from time to time
shall dictate to him; but must be tied to do according to that will
only, which once for all he had long ago laid up, and involved in
the wills of the major part of an assembly, or in the will of some
one man. But this is really no inconvenience. For, as it hath been
showed before, it is the only means, by which we have any
possibility of preserving ourselves. For if every man were allowed
this liberty of following his conscience, in such difference of
consciences, they would not live together in peace an hour. But it
appeareth a great inconvenience to every man in particular, to be
debarred of this liberty, because every one apart considereth it as
in himself, and not as in the rest; by which means, liberty
appeareth in the likeness of rule and government over others. For
where one man is at liberty, and the rest bound, there that one hath
government; which honour, he that understandeth not so much,
demanding by the name simply of liberty, thinketh it a great
grievance and injury to be denied it. For the second grievance
concerning _meum_ and _tuum_, it is also none, but in appearance
only; it consisteth in this, that the sovereign power taketh from
him that which he used to enjoy, knowing no other propriety, but use
and custom. But without such sovereign power, the right of men is
not propriety to anything, but a community, no better than to have
no right at all, as hath been showed, Part I. chapter I. section 10.
Propriety therefore being derived from the sovereign power, is not
to be pretended against the same, especially, when by it every
subject hath his propriety against every other subject, which when
sovereignty ceaseth, he hath not, because in that case they return
to war amongst themselves. Those levies therefore which are made
upon men’s estates, by the sovereign authority, are no more but the
price of that peace and defence which the sovereignty maintaineth
for them. If this were not so, no money nor forces for the wars, nor
any other public occasion, could justly be levied in the world. For
neither king, nor democracy, nor aristocracy, nor the estates of any
land, could do it, if the sovereignty could not. For in all those
cases, it is levied by virtue of the sovereignty. Nay more, by the
three estates here, the land of one man may be transferred to
another, without crime of him from whom it was taken, and without
pretence of public benefit, as hath been done; and this without
injury, because done by the sovereign power. For the power whereby
it is done, is no less than sovereign, and cannot be greater.
Therefore this grievance for _meum_ and _tuum_ is not real, unless
more be exacted than is necessary; but it seemeth a grievance,
because to them that either know not the right of sovereignty, or to
whom that right belongeth, it seemeth an injury; and injury, how
little soever the damage, is always grievous, as putting us in mind
of our disability to help ourselves, and into envy of the power to
do us wrong.
[Sidenote: Monarchy approved by, &c.]
3. Having spoken of the inconveniences of the subject, by government
in general, let us consider the same in the three several sorts
thereof, namely, _democracy_, _aristocracy_ and _monarchy_; whereof
the two former are in effect but one. For, as I have showed before,
democracy is but the government of a few orators. The comparison
therefore will be between monarchy and aristocracy: and to omit that
the world, as it was created, so also it is governed by one God
Almighty; and that all the ancients have preferred monarchy before
other governments, both in opinion, because they feigned a
monarchical government amongst their gods, and also by their custom;
for that in the most ancient times all people were so governed: and
that paternal government, which is monarchy, was instituted in the
beginning from the creation; and that other governments have
proceeded from the dissolution thereof, caused by the rebellious
nature of mankind, and be but pieces of broken monarchies cemented
by human wit, I will insist only on this comparison, upon the
inconveniences that may happen to the subjects in consequence to
each of these governments.
[Sidenote: Monarchy less subject to passion, &c.]
4. And first, it seemeth inconvenient there should be committed so
great a power to one man, as that it might be lawful to no other man
or men to resist the same; and some think it inconvenient _eo
nomine_, because he hath the power. But this reason we may not by
any means admit, for it maketh it inconvenient to be ruled by
Almighty God, who without question hath more power over every man,
than can be conferred upon any monarch. This inconvenience therefore
must be derived not from the power, but from the affections and
passions which reign in every one, as well monarch as subject, by
which the monarch may be swayed to use that power amiss: and because
an aristocracy consisteth of men, if the passions of many men be
more violent when they are assembled together, than the passions of
one man alone, it will follow, that the inconvenience arising from
passions will be greater in an _aristocracy_, than a _monarchy_. But
there is no doubt, when things are debated in great assemblies, but
every man delivering his opinion at large without interruption,
endeavoureth to make whatsoever he is to set forth for good, better;
and what he would have apprehended as evil, worse, as much as is
possible, to the end his counsel may take place; which counsel also
is never without aim at his own benefit, or honour; every man’s end
being some good to himself. Now this cannot be done without working
on the passions of the rest. And thus the passions of these that are
singly moderate, are altogether vehement; even as a great many
coals, though but warm asunder, being put together, inflame one
another.
[Sidenote: Subjects in monarchy, &c.]
5. Another inconvenience of monarchy, is this, that the monarch,
besides the riches necessary for the defence of the commonwealth,
may take so much more from the subjects, as may enrich his children,
kindred and favourites, to what degree he pleaseth; which though it
be indeed an inconvenience, if he should so do, yet is the same both
greater in an aristocracy, and also more likely to come to pass, for
there not one only, but many have children, kindred, and friends to
raise. And in that point they are as twenty monarchs for one, and
likely to set forward one another’s designs mutually, to the
oppression of all the rest. The same also happeneth in a democracy,
if they all do agree; otherwise they bring a worse inconvenience; to
wit, sedition.
6. Another inconvenience of monarchy, is the power of dispensing
with the execution of justice, whereby the family and friends of the
monarch, may, with impunity, commit outrages upon the people, or
oppress them with extortion. But in aristocracies, not only one, but
many have power of taking men out of the hands of justice, and no
man is willing his kindred or friends should be punished according
to their demerits. And therefore they understand amongst themselves
without further speaking, as a tacit covenant, _hodie mihi, cras
tibi_.
[Sidenote: Laws in monarchy less changeable, &c.]
7. Another inconvenience of monarchy, is the power of altering laws.
Concerning which, it is necessary that such a power be, that laws
may be altered, according as men’s manners change, or as the
conjuncture of all circumstances within and without the commonwealth
shall require; the change of law being then inconvenient, when it
proceedeth from the change, not of the occasion, but of the minds of
him or them, by whose authority the laws are made. Now it is
manifest enough of itself, that the mind of one man is not so
variable in that point, as are the decrees of an assembly. For not
only they have all their natural changes, but the change of any one
man may be enough, with eloquence and reputation, or by solicitation
and faction, to make that law to-day, which another by the very same
means, shall abrogate to-morrow.
[Sidenote: Monarchies less subject to dissolution.]
8. Lastly, the greatest inconvenience that can happen to a
commonwealth, is the aptitude to dissolve into civil war; and to
this are monarchies much less subject, than any other governments.
For where the union, or band of a commonwealth, is one man, there is
no distraction; whereas in assemblies, those that are of different
opinions, and give different counsel, are apt to fall out amongst
themselves, and to cross the designs of the commonwealth for one
another’s sake: and when they cannot have the honour of making good
their own devices, they yet seek the honour to make the counsels of
their adversaries prove vain. And in this contention, when the
opposite factions happen to be anything equal in strength, they
presently fall to war. Wherein necessity teacheth both sides, that
an absolute monarch, to wit, a general, is necessary both for their
defence against one another, and also for the peace of each faction
within itself. But this aptitude to dissolution, is to be understood
for an inconvenience in such aristocracies only where the affairs of
state are debated in great and numerous assemblies, as they were
anciently in Athens, and in Rome; and not in such as do nothing else
in great assemblies, but choose magistrates and counsellors, and
commit the handling of state affairs to a few; such as is the
aristocracy of Venice at this day. For these are no more apt to
dissolve from this occasion, than monarchies, the counsel of state
being both in the one and the other alike.
-------
CHAPTER VI.
1. A difficulty concerning absolute subjection to man, arising
from our absolute subjection to God Almighty, propounded. 2.
That this difficulty is only amongst those Christians that
deny the interpretation of the Scripture to depend upon the
sovereign authority of the commonwealth. 3. That human laws
are not made to govern the consciences of men, but their words
and actions. 4. Places of Scripture to prove obedience due
from Christians to their sovereign in all things. 5. A
distinction propounded between a fundamental point of faith,
and a superstruction. 6. An explication of the points of
faith, that be fundamental. 7. That the belief of those
fundamental points, is all that is required to salvation, as
of faith. 8. That other points not fundamental, are not
necessary to salvation as matter of faith; and that no more is
required by way of faith to the salvation of one man, than to
the salvation of another. 9. That superstructions are not
points of the faith necessary to a Christian. 10. How faith
and justice concur to salvation. 11. That in Christian
commonwealths, obedience to God and man stand well together.
12. This tenet, whatsoever is against the conscience, is sin,
interpreted. 13. That all men do confess the necessity of
submitting of controversies to some human authority. 14. That
Christians under an infidel are discharged of the injustice of
disobeying him, in that which concerneth the faith necessary
to salvation, by not resisting.
[Sidenote: A difficulty concerning absolute subjection to man,
arising from our absolute subjection to God Almighty,
propounded.]
1. Having showed, that in all commonwealths whatsoever, the
necessity of peace and government requireth, that there be existent
some power, either in one man, or in one assembly of men, by the
name of the power sovereign, which it is not lawful for any member
of the same commonwealth to disobey; there occurreth now a
difficulty, which, if it be not removed, maketh it unlawful for a
man to put himself under the command of such absolute sovereignty as
is required thereto. And the difficulty is this; we have amongst us
the Word of God for the rule of our actions: now if we shall subject
ourselves to men also, obliging ourselves to do such actions as
shall be by them commanded, when the commands of God and man shall
differ, we are to obey God, rather than man; and consequently, the
covenant of general obedience to man is unlawful.
[Sidenote: That this difficulty is only amongst those Christians
that deny the interpretation of Scripture to depend upon
the sovereign authority of the commonwealth.]
2. This difficulty hath not been of very great antiquity in the
world. There was no such _dilemma_ amongst the Jews; for their civil
law, and divine law, was one and the same law of Moses; the
interpreters whereof were the priests, whose power was subordinate
to the power of the king; as was the power of Aaron, to the power of
Moses. Nor is it a controversy that was ever taken notice of amongst
the Grecians, Romans, or other Gentiles: for amongst these their
several civil laws were the rules whereby not only righteousness and
virtue, but also religion, and the external worship of God, was
ordered and approved; that being esteemed the true worship of God,
which was κατὰ τὰ νόμιμα, according to the laws civil. Also those
Christians that dwell under the temporal dominion of the bishop of
Rome, are free from this question; for that they allow unto him,
their sovereign, to interpret the Scriptures, which are the law of
God, as he in his own judgment shall think right. This difficulty
therefore remaineth amongst, and troubleth those Christians only, to
whom it is allowed, to take for the sense of the Scripture, that
which they make thereof, either by their own private interpretation,
or by the interpretation of such as are not called thereunto by
public authority; they that follow their own interpretation
continually, demanding liberty of conscience; and those that follow
the interpretation of others not ordained thereunto by the sovereign
of the commonwealth, requiring a power in matters of religion either
above the power civil, or at least not depending on it.
[Sidenote: That human laws are not made to govern the consciences of
men, but their words & actions.]
3. To take away this scruple of conscience, concerning obedience to
human laws, amongst those that interpret to themselves the word of
God in the Holy Scriptures, I propound to their consideration,
first, that no human law is intended to oblige the conscience of a
man, unless it break out into action, either of the tongue, or other
part of the body. The law made thereupon would be of none effect,
because no man is able to discern, but by word or other action
whether such law be kept or broken. Nor did the apostles themselves
pretend dominion over men’s consciences, concerning the faith they
preached, but only persuasion and instruction. And therefore St.
Paul saith (2 Cor. i. 24), writing to the Corinthians, concerning
their controversies, that he and the rest of the apostles had no
dominion over their faith, but were helpers of their joy.
[Sidenote: Places of Scripture to prove obedience due from
Christians to their sovereign in all things.]
4. And for the actions of men which proceed from their consciences,
the regulating of which actions is the only means of peace, if they
might not stand with justice, it were impossible that justice
towards God, and peace amongst men, should stand together in that
religion that teacheth us, that _justice and peace shall kiss each
other_, and in which we have so many precepts of absolute obedience
to human authority; as Matth. xxiii. 2, 3, we have this precept:
_The Scribes and Pharisees sit in Moses' seat; all therefore
whatsoever they bid you observe, that observe and do_. And yet were
the Scribes and Pharisees not priests, but men of temporal
authority. Again Luke xi. 17: _Every kingdom divided against itself
shall be desolate_; and is not that kingdom divided against itself,
where the actions of every one shall be ruled by his private
opinion, or conscience, and yet those actions such as give occasion
of offence and breach of peace? Again Rom. xiii. 5: _Wherefore you
must be subject, not because of wrath only, but also for conscience
sake_. Titus iii. 1: _Put them in remembrance, that they be subject
to principalities and powers_. 1 Peter ii. 13, 14: _Submit
yourselves unto all manner of ordinance of man, for the Lord’s sake,
whether it be unto the king, as unto the superior, or unto
governors, as unto them that are sent by him for the punishment of
evil doers_. Jude, verse 8: _These dreamers also that defile the
flesh, and despise government, and speak evil of them that are in
authority_. And forasmuch as all subjects in commonwealths are in
the nature of children and servants, that which is a command to
them, is a command to all subjects. But to these St. Paul saith
(Colos. iii. 20, 22): _Children, obey your parents in all things;
servants, be obedient to your masters according to the flesh in all
things_. And verse 23: _Do it heartily as to the Lord_. These places
considered, it seemeth strange to me, that any man in a Christian
commonwealth, should have any occasion to deny his obedience to
public authority, upon this ground, that _it is better to obey God
than man_. For though St. Peter and the apostles did so answer the
council of the Jews, that forbad them to preach Christ, there
appeareth no reason that Christians should allege the same against
their Christian governors, that command them to preach Christ. To
reconcile this seeming contradiction of simple obedience to God, and
simple obedience to man, we are to consider a Christian subject, as
under a Christian sovereign, or under an infidel.
[Sidenote: A distinction propounded between a fundamental point of
faith and a superstruction.]
5. And under a Christian sovereign we are to consider, what actions
we are forbidden by God Almighty to obey them in, and what not. The
actions we are forbidden to obey them in, are such only, as imply a
denial of that faith which is necessary to our salvation: for
otherwise there can be no pretence of disobedience; for why should a
man incur the danger of a temporal death, by displeasing of his
superior, if it were not for fear of eternal death hereafter? It
must therefore be enquired, what those propositions and articles be,
the belief whereof our Saviour or his apostles have declared to be
such, as without believing them, a man cannot be saved; and then all
other points, that are now controverted, and made distinction of
sects, Papists, Lutherans, Calvinists, Arminians, &c. (as in old
time, the like made Paulists, Apollonians, and Cephasians), must
needs be such, as a man needeth not for the holding thereof, deny
obedience to his superiors. And for the points of faith necessary to
salvation, I shall call them _fundamental_, and every other point a
_superstruction_.
[Sidenote: An explication of the points of faith, that be
fundamental.]
6. And without all controversy, there is not any more necessary
point to be believed for man’s salvation than this, that _Jesus is
the Messiah_, that is, _the Christ_; which proposition is explicated
in sundry sorts, but still the same in effect; as, that _he is God’s
anointed_; for that is signified by the word Christ: that _he was
the true and lawful king of Israel, the son of David, the Saviour of
the world, the redeemer of Israel, the salvation of God, he that
should come into the world, the son of God_, and, which I desire by
the way to have noted, against the now sect of Arians, _the begotten
Son of God_, Acts iii. 13; Heb. v. 5: _The only begotten Son of
God_, John i. 14, 18; John iii. 16, 18; 1 John iv. 9: _That he was
God_, John i. 1; John xx. 28: _That the fulness of the Godhead dwelt
in him bodily_, Coloss. ii. 9: Moreover, _the Holy One, the Holy One
of God, the forgiver of sins, that he is risen from the dead_. These
are explications, and parts of that general article, that _Jesus is
the Christ_. This point therefore, and all the explications thereof
are fundamental: as also all such as be evidently inferred from
thence; as, BELIEF IN GOD THE FATHER: John xii. 44: _He that
believeth in me, believeth not in me, but in him that sent me_; 1
John ii. 23: _He that denieth the Son, hath not the Father_: BELIEF
IN GOD THE HOLY GHOST, of whom Christ saith, John xiv. 26: _But the
Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my
name_: and John xv. 26: _But when the Comforter shall come, whom I
will send unto you from the Father, even the Spirit of truth_:
BELIEF OF THE SCRIPTURES, by which we believe those points and of
the immortality of the soul, without which we cannot believe he is a
Saviour.
[Sidenote: That the belief of those fundamental points, is all that
is required to salvation, as of faith.]
7. And as these are the fundamental points of faith necessary to
salvation; so also are they only necessary as matter of faith, and
only essential to the calling of a Christian; as may appear by many
evident places of Holy Scripture: John v. 39: _Search the
Scriptures, for in them ye think ye have eternal life, and they are
they which testify of me_. Now, forasmuch as by the _Scripture_, is
meant there the Old Testament (the New being then not written), the
belief of that which was written concerning our Saviour in the Old
Testament, was sufficient belief for the obtaining of eternal life:
but in the Old Testament, there is nothing revealed concerning
Christ, but that he is the Messiah, and such things as belong to the
fundamental points thereupon depending. And therefore those
_fundamental_ points are sufficient to salvation as of faith. And
John vi. 28, 29: _Then said they unto him, What shall we do, that we
might work the works of God? Jesus answered and said unto them. This
is the work of God, that ye believe in him, whom he hath sent._ So
that the point to be believed is, _That Jesus Christ came forth from
God, and he which believeth it, worketh the works of God_. John xi.
26, 27: _Whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die.
Believest thou this? She said unto him, Yea, Lord, I believe that
thou art the Christ, the Son of God, which should come into the
world._ Hence followeth, _He that believeth this, shall never die_.
John xx. 31: _But these things are written, that ye might believe,
that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God; and that believing, ye
might have life through his name_. By which appeareth, that this
_fundamental_ point is all that is required, as of faith to our
salvation. 1 John iv. 2: _Every spirit that confesseth that Jesus
Christ is come in the flesh, is of God_: 1 John v. 1: _Whosoever
believeth that Jesus is the Christ, is born of God_; and (verse 5)
_Who is he that overcometh the world, but he that believeth, that
Jesus is the Son of God_: and verse 13: _These things have I written
unto you that believe in the name of the Son of God, that ye may
know that ye have eternal life_. Acts, viii. 36, 37: _The eunuch
said, Here is water, what doth hinder me to be baptized? And Philip
said unto him, If thou believest with all thy heart, thou mayest. He
answered and said, I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God._
This point therefore was sufficient for the reception of man into
baptism, that is to say, to Christianity. And Acts, xvi. 29-31: _The
keeper of the prison fell down before Paul and Silas, and said,
Sirs, what shall I do to be saved? And they said, Believe in the
Lord Jesus Christ._ And the sermon of St. Peter, upon the day of
Pentecost, was nothing else but an explication, that _Jesus was the
Christ. And when they had heard him, they asked him, What shall we
do? He said unto them_, (Acts, ii. 38): _Amend your lives, and be
baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the
remission of sins_. Rom. x. 9: _If thou shalt confess with thy mouth
the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thy heart, that God raised him
up from the dead, thou shalt be saved_. To these places may be
added, that wheresoever our Saviour Christ doth approve the faith of
any man, the proposition believed, if the same be to be collected
out of the text, is always some of these fundamental points before
mentioned, or something equivalent: as the faith of the centurion
(Matth. viii. 8): _Speak the word only, and my servant shall be
healed_; believing he was omnipotent: the faith of the woman, which
had an issue of blood, (Matth. ix. 21): _If I may but touch the hem
of his garment_; implying, he was the Messiah: the faith required of
the blind men, (Matth. ix. 28): _Believe you that I am able to do
this?_ the faith of the Canaanitish woman, (Matth. xv. 22), that he
was the _Son of David_, implying the same. And so it is in every one
of those places, none excepted, where our Saviour commendeth any
man’s faith, which because they are too many to insert here, I omit,
and refer them to his inquisition that is not otherwise satisfied.
And as there is no other faith required, so there was no other
preaching: for the prophets of the Old Testament preached no other;
and John the Baptist preached only the approach of the kingdom of
heaven, that is to say, of the kingdom of Christ. The same was the
commission of the apostles (Matth. x. 7): _Go preach, saying, The
kingdom of heaven is at hand_. And Paul preaching amongst the Jews,
(Acts, xviii. 5), did but testify unto the Jews, that _Jesus was the
Christ_. And the heathens took notice of Christians no otherwise,
but by this name, that they believed _Jesus to be a king_, crying
out, (Acts, xvii. 6, 7): _These are they that have subverted the
state of the world, and here they are, whom Jason hath received. And
these all do against the decrees of Cæsar, saying, that there is
another king, one Jesus._ And this was the sum of the predictions,
the sum of the confessions of them that believed, as well men as
devils. This was the title of his cross, _Jesus of Nazareth, king of
the Jews_; this the occasion of the crown of thorns, sceptre of
reed, and a man to carry his cross; this was the subject of the
_Hosannas_; and this was the title, by which our Saviour, commanding
to take another man’s goods, bade them say, _The Lord hath need_;
and by this title he purged the temple of the profane market kept
there. Nor did the apostles themselves believe any more than that
_Jesus was the Messiah_, nor understand so much; for they understood
the Messiah to be no more than a temporal king, till after our
Saviour’s resurrection. Furthermore, this point, that _Christ is the
Messiah_, is particularly set forth for _fundamental_ by that word,
or some other equivalent thereunto in divers places. Upon the
confession of Peter (Matth. xvi. 16): _Thou art the Christ, the son
of the living God_, our Saviour (verse 18) saith, _Upon this rock
will I build my church_. This point therefore is the whole
foundation of Christ’s church. St. Paul saith, (Rom. xv. 20) _I so
enforced myself to preach the Gospel, not where Christ was named,
lest I should have built upon another man’s foundation_. St. Paul,
(1 Cor. iii. 10) when he had reprehended the Corinthians for their
sects, and curious doctrines and questions, he distinguisheth
between _fundamental_ points, and _superstruction_; and saith, _I
have laid the foundation, and another buildeth thereupon; but let
every man take heed how he buildeth upon it. For other foundation
can no man lay than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ._
Coloss. ii. 6, 7: _As you have received Christ Jesus the Lord, so
walk in him, rooted and builded in him, and stablished in the
faith_.
[Sidenote: That other points not fundamental, are not necessary to
salvation as matters of faith; and that no more is
required by way of faith to the salvation of one man than
to the salvation of another.]
8. Having showed this proposition, _Jesus is the Christ_, to be the
only fundamental and necessary point of faith, I shall set down a
few places more, to show, that other points, though they may be
true, are not so necessary to be believed, as that a man may not be
saved, though he believe them not. And first, if a man could not be
saved without assent of the heart to the truth of all controversies,
which are now in agitation concerning religion, I cannot see, how
any man living can be saved; so full of subtilty, and curious
knowledge it is to be so great a divine. Why therefore should a man
think that our Saviour, who (Matth. xi. 30), saith, that his _yoke
is easy_, should require a matter of that difficulty? or how are
little children said to believe, (Matth. xviii. 6); or how could the
good thief be thought sufficiently catechised upon the cross? or St.
Paul so perfect a Christian presently upon his conversion? and
though there may be more obedience required in him that hath the
fundamental points explicated unto him, than in him that hath
received the same but implicitly; yet there is no more faith
required for salvation in one man, than another. For if it be true,
that _Whosoever shall confess with his mouth the Lord Jesus, and
believe in his heart, that God raised him from the dead, shall be
saved_; as it is, Rom. x. 9, and that _Whosoever believeth that
Jesus is the Christ, is born of God_; the belief of that point is
sufficient for the salvation of any man whosoever he be, forasmuch
as concerneth faith. And seeing he that believeth not that _Jesus is
the Christ_, whatsoever he believe else, cannot be saved; it
followeth, that there is no more required of the salvation of one
man, than another, in matter of faith.
[Sidenote: That superstructions are not points of the faith
necessary to a Christian.]
9. About these points fundamental, there is little controversy
amongst Christians, though otherwise of different sects amongst
themselves. And therefore the controversies of religion, are
altogether about points unnecessary to salvation; whereof some are
doctrines raised by human ratiocination, from the points
_fundamental_. As for example; such doctrines as concern the manner
of the real presence, wherein are mingled tenets of faith concerning
the omnipotency and divinity of Christ, with the tenets of Aristotle
and the Peripatetics concerning substance and accidents, species,
hypostasis, and the subsistence and migration of accidents from
place to place; words some of them without meaning, and nothing but
the canting of Grecian sophisters. And these doctrines are condemned
expressly, Col. ii. 8, where after St. Paul had exhorted them to _be
rooted and builded in Christ_, he giveth them this further caveat:
_Beware lest there be any man that spoil you through philosophy and
vain deceits, through the traditions of men, according to the
rudiments of the world_. And such are such doctrines, as are raised
out of such places of the Scriptures, as concern not the foundation,
by men’s natural reason; as about the concatenation of causes, and
the manner of God’s predestination; which are also mingled with
philosophy: as if it were possible for men that know not in what
manner God seeth, heareth, or speaketh, to know nevertheless the
manner how he intendeth, and predestinateth. A man therefore ought
not to examine by reason any point, or draw any consequence out of
Scripture by reason, concerning the nature of God Almighty, of which
reason is not capable. And therefore St. Paul, (Rom. xii. 3) giveth
a good rule, _That no man presume to understand above that which is
meet to understand, but that he understand according to sobriety_:
which they do not, who presume out of Scripture, by their own
interpretation, to raise any doctrine to the understanding,
concerning those things which are incomprehensible. And this whole
controversy concerning the predestination of God, and the free-will
of man, is not peculiar to Christian men. For we have huge volumes
of this subject, under the name of _fate_ and _contingency_,
disputed between the Epicureans and the Stoics, and consequently it
is not matter of faith, but of philosophy: and so are also all the
questions concerning any other point, but the foundation before
named; and God receiveth a man, which part of the question soever he
holdeth. It was a controversy in St. Paul’s time, whether a
Christian Gentile might eat freely of any thing which the Christian
Jews did not; and the Jew condemned the Gentile that he did eat, to
whom St. Paul saith, (Rom. xiv. 3): _Let not him that eateth not,
judge him that eateth; for God hath received him_. And verse 6, in
the question concerning the observing of holy days, wherein the
Gentiles and Jews differed, he saith unto them, _He that observeth
the day, observeth it to the Lord; and he that observeth not the
day, observeth it not to the Lord_. And they who strive concerning
such questions, and divide themselves into sects, are not therefore
to be accounted zealous of the faith, their strife being but carnal,
which is confirmed by St. Paul (1 Cor. iii. 4): _When one saith, I
am of Paul, and another, I am of Appollos, are ye not carnal?_ For
they are not questions of faith, but of wit, wherein, carnally, men
are inclined to seek the mastery one of another. For nothing is
truly a point of faith, but that _Jesus is the Christ_; as St. Paul
testifieth, (1 Cor. ii. 2): _For I esteemed not the knowledge of any
thing amongst you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified_. And 1 Tim.
vi. 20, 21: _O Timotheus, keep that which is committed unto thee,
and avoid profane and vain babblings, and opposition of science
falsely so called, which while some profess, they have erred
concerning the faith_. 2 Tim. ii. 16: _Shun profane and vain
babblings, &c._ Verse 17, 18: _Of which sort is Hymenæus and
Philetus, which as concerning the truth, have erred, saying, that
the resurrection is past already_. Whereby St. Paul showed, that the
raising of questions by human ratiocination, though it be from the
fundamental points themselves, is not only not necessary, but most
dangerous to the faith of a Christian. Out of all these places, I
draw only this conclusion in general, that neither the points now in
controversy amongst Christians of different sects, or in any point
that ever shall be in controversy, excepting only those that are
contained in this article, _Jesus is the Christ_, are necessary to
salvation, as of faith; though in matter of obedience, a man may be
bound not to oppose the same.
[Sidenote: How faith and justice concur to salvation.]
10. Although to the obtaining of salvation, there be required no
more, as hath been already declared, out of the Holy Scriptures, as
matter of faith, but the belief of those fundamental articles before
set forth; nevertheless, there are required other things, as matter
of obedience. For, as it is not enough in temporal kingdoms, to
avoid the punishment which kings may inflict, to acknowledge the
right and title of the king, without obedience also to his laws: so
also it is not enough, to acknowledge our Saviour Christ to be the
king of heaven, in which consisteth Christian faith, unless also we
endeavour to obey his laws, which are the laws of the kingdom of
heaven, in which consisteth Christian obedience. And forasmuch as
the laws of the kingdom of heaven, are the laws of nature, as hath
been showed, Part I. chapter V., not only faith, but also the
observation of the law of nature, (which is that for which a man is
called just or righteous, in that sense, in which justice is taken
not for the absence of guilt, but for the endeavour and constant
will to do that which is just) not only faith, but this justice,
which also from the effect thereof, is called repentance, and
sometimes works, is necessary to salvation. So that faith and
justice do both concur thereto; and in the several acceptation of
this word (justification) are properly said both of them to justify;
and the want of either of them is properly said to condemn. For not
only he that resisteth a king upon doubt of his title, but also he
that doth it upon the inordinateness of his passions, deserveth
punishment. And when faith and works are separated, not only the
faith is called dead without works, but also works are called dead
works without faith. And therefore St. James, (chapter ii. 17),
saith, _Even so the faith, if it have no works, is dead in itself_;
and verse 26: _For as the body without the spirit is dead, even so
faith without works is dead_. And St. Paul, (Heb. vi. 1), calleth
works without faith, _dead works_, where he saith, _Not laying again
the foundation of repentance from dead works_. And by these dead
works, is understood not the obedience and justice of the inward
man, but the _opus operatum_, or external action, proceeding from
fear of punishment, or from vain-glory, and desire to be honoured of
men: and these may be separated from faith, and conduce no way to a
man’s justification. And for that cause, St. Paul, (Rom. iv.)
excludeth the righteousness of the law, from having part in the
justification of a sinner. For by the law of Moses, which is applied
to men’s actions, and requireth the absence of guilt, all men living
are liable to damnation; and therefore no man is justified by works,
but by faith only. But if works be taken for the endeavour to do
them, that is, if the will be taken for the deed, or internal for
external righteousness, then do works contribute to salvation. And
then taketh place that of St. James, (chap. ii. 24): _Ye see then,
how that of works a man is justified, and not of faith only_. And
both of these are joined to salvation, as in St. Mark i. 15: _Repent
and believe the gospel_. And Luke xviii. 18-22, when a certain ruler
asked our Saviour, what he ought to do to inherit eternal life, he
propounded to him the keeping of the commandments; which when the
ruler said he had kept, he propounded to him the faith, _Sell all
that thou hast, and follow me_. And John iii. 36: _He that believeth
in the Son, hath everlasting life_. And _He that obeyeth not the
Son, shall not see life_. Where he manifestly joineth obedience and
faith together. And Rom. i. 17: _The just shall live by faith_; not
every one, but _the just_. For also _the devils believe and
tremble_. But though both faith and justice (meaning still by
justice, not absence of guilt, but the good intentions of the mind,
which is called righteousness by God, that taketh the will for the
deed) be both of them said to justify, yet are their parts in the
act of justification to be distinguished. For justice is said to
justify, not because it absolveth, but because it denominates him
just, and setteth him in an estate, or capacity of salvation,
whensoever he shall have faith. But faith is said to justify, that
is, to absolve, because by it a just man is absolved of, and
forgiven his unjust actions. And thus are reconciled the places of
St. Paul and St. James, that _Faith only justifieth_, and _a man is
not justified by faith only_; and showed how faith and repentance
must concur to salvation.
[Sidenote: That in Christian commonwealths, obedience to God and man
stand well together.]
11. These things considered, it will easily appear, that under the
sovereign power of a Christian commonwealth, there is no danger of
damnation from simple obedience to human laws; for in that the
sovereign alloweth Christianity, no man is compelled to renounce
that faith, which is enough for his salvation, that is to say, the
fundamental points. And for other points, seeing they are not
necessary to salvation, if we conform our actions to the laws, we do
not only what we are allowed, but also what we are commanded by the
law of nature, which is the moral law taught by our Saviour himself.
And it is part of that obedience which must concur to our salvation.
[Sidenote: This tenet, whatsoever is against the conscience is sin,
interpreted.]
12. And though it be true, whatsoever a man doth against his
conscience, is sin; yet the obedience in these cases, is neither
sin, nor against the conscience. For the conscience being nothing
else but a man’s settled judgment and opinion, when he hath once
transferred his right of judging to another, that which shall be
commanded, is no less his judgment, than the judgment of that other.
So that in obedience to laws, a man doth still according to his own
conscience, but not his private conscience. And whatsoever is done
contrary to private conscience, is then a sin, when the laws have
left him to his own liberty, and never else. And then whatsoever a
man doth, not only believing it is ill done, but doubting whether it
be ill or not, is done ill, in case he may lawfully omit the doing.
[Sidenote: That all men do confess the necessity of submitting of
controversies to some human authority.]
13. And as it hath been proved, that a man must submit his opinions
in matter of controversy to the authority of the commonwealth; so
also is the same confessed by the practice of every one of them that
otherwise deny it. For who is there differing in opinion from
another, and thinking himself to be in the right, and the other in
the wrong, that would not think it reasonable, if he be of the same
opinion that the whole state alloweth, that the other should submit
his opinion also thereunto; or that would not be content, if not
that one or a few men, yet all the divines of a whole nation, or at
least an assembly of all those he liketh, should have the power to
determine all the controversies of religion? or, who is there that
would not be content, to submit his opinions, either to the pope, or
to a general council, or to a provincial council, or to a presbytery
of his own nation? And yet in all these cases he submitteth himself
to no greater than human authority. Nor can a man be said to submit
himself to Holy Scripture, that doth not submit himself to some or
other for the interpretation thereof. Or, why should there be any
church government at all instituted, if the Scripture itself could
do the office of a judge in controversies of faith? But the truth is
apparent, by continual experience, that men seek not only liberty of
conscience, but of their actions; nor that only, but a further
liberty of persuading others to their opinions; nor that only, for
every man desireth, that the sovereign authority should admit no
other opinions to be maintained, but such as he himself holdeth.
[Sidenote: That Christians under an infidel are discharged of the
injustice of disobeying him, in that which concerneth the
faith necessary to salvation, by not resisting.]
14. The difficulty therefore of obeying both God and man in a
Christian commonwealth is none: all the difficulty resteth in this
point, whether he that hath received the faith of Christ, having
before subjected himself to the authority of an infidel, be
discharged of his obedience thereby, or not, in matters of religion.
In which case it seemeth reasonable to think, that since all
covenants of obedience are entered into for the preservation of a
man’s life, if a man be content without resistance to lay down his
life, rather than obey the commands of an infidel, in so hard a case
he hath sufficiently discharged himself thereof. For no covenant
bindeth further than to endeavour; and if a man cannot assure
himself to perform a just duty, when thereby he is assured of
present death, much less can it be expected that a man should
perform that, for which he believeth in his heart he shall be damned
eternally. And thus much concerning the scruple of conscience, that
may arise concerning obedience to human laws, in them that interpret
the law of God to themselves. It remaineth, to remove the same
scruple from them, that submit their controversies to others not
ordained thereunto by the sovereign authority. And this I refer to
the chapter following.
-------
CHAPTER VII.
1. The question propounded, who are the magistrates in the kingdom
of Christ. 2. The question exemplified, in the controversies
between Moses and Aaron, and between Moses and Corah. 3. Amongst
the Jews, the power temporal and spiritual in the same hand. 4.
Parallel of the twelve princes of Israel, and the twelve
apostles. 5. Parallel of seventy elders, and seventy disciples.
6. The hierarchy of the church in our Saviour’s time, consisted
in the twelve, and in the seventy. 7. Why Christ ordained no
priests for sacrifices, as Moses did. 8. The hierarchy of the
church in the apostles' time, apostles, bishops, and priests. 9.
The preaching of the gospel was not commanding, but persuading.
10. Excommunication. Sovereigns immediate rulers ecclesiastical
under Christ. 11. That no man hath any just pretence of religion
against obedience to commonwealth. God speaketh to man by his
vicegerents.
[Sidenote: The question propounded, who are the magistrates in the
kingdom of Christ.]
1. In the former chapter have been removed those difficulties
opposing our obedience to human authority, which arise from
misunderstanding of our Saviour’s title and laws: in the former
whereof, namely, his title, consisteth our faith; and in the latter,
our justice. Now they who differ not amongst themselves concerning
his title and laws, may nevertheless have different opinions
concerning his magistrates, and the authority he hath given them.
And this is the cause, why many Christians have denied obedience to
their princes, pretending that our Saviour Christ hath not given
this magistracy to them, but to others. As for example: some say, to
the pope universally; some, to a synod aristocratical; some, to a
synod democratical in every several commonwealth; and the
magistrates of Christ being they by whom he speaketh, the question
is, whether he speak unto us by the pope, or by convocations of
bishops and ministers, or by them that have the sovereign power in
every commonwealth.
[Sidenote: The question exemplified, in the controversies between
Moses and Aaron, and between Moses and Corah.]
2. This controversy was the cause of those two mutinies, that
happened against Moses in the wilderness. The first by Aaron and his
sister Miriam, who took upon them to censure Moses, for marrying an
Ethiopian woman. And the state of the question between them and
Moses, they set forth (Numb. xii. 2) in these words: _What hath the
Lord spoken but only by Moses? hath he not spoken also by us? And
the Lord heard this_, &c., and punished the same in Miriam,
forgiving Aaron upon his repentance. And this is the case of all
them that set up the priesthood against the sovereignty. The other
was of Corah, Dathan, and Abiram, who with two hundred and fifty
captains gathered themselves together against Moses, and against
Aaron. The state of their controversy was this, whether God were not
with the multitude, as well as with Moses, and every man as holy as
he. For (Numb. xvi. 3) thus they say, _You take too much upon you,
seeing all the congregation is holy; every one of them, and the Lord
is amongst them: wherefore then lift ye yourselves above the
congregation of the Lord?_ And this is the case of them that set up
their private consciences, and unite themselves to take the
government of religion out of the hands of him or them, that have
the sovereign power of the commonwealth: which how well it pleaseth
God, may appear by the hideous punishment of Corah and his
accomplices.
[Sidenote: Amongst the Jews, the power temporal and spiritual in the
same hand.]
3. In the government therefore of Moses there was no power, neither
civil, nor spiritual, that was not derived from him. Nor in the
state of Israel under kings, was there any earthly power, by which
those kings were compellable to any thing, or any subject allowed to
resist them in any case whatsoever. For though the prophets by
extraordinary calling, did often admonish and threaten them, yet
they had no authority over them. And therefore amongst the Jews, the
power spiritual and temporal, was always in the same hand.
[Sidenote: Parallel of the twelve princes of Israel, and the twelve
apostles.]
4. Our Saviour Christ, as he was the rightful king of the Jews in
particular, as well as king of the kingdom of Heaven, in the
ordaining of magistrates, received that form of policy which was
used by Moses. According to the number of the children of Jacob,
Moses took unto him by the appointment of God (Numb. i. 4) twelve
men, every one of the chief of their tribe, which were to assist him
in the muster of Israel. And these twelve, verse 44, are called the
_princes of Israel, twelve men, every one for the house of their
fathers_; which are said also (Numb. vii. 2), _to be heads over the
houses of their fathers, and princes of the tribes, and over them
that were numbered_. And these were every one equal amongst
themselves. In like manner our Saviour took unto him twelve
apostles, to be next unto him in authority, of whom he saith (Matth.
xix. 28), _When the Son of Man shall sit in the throne of his
majesty, ye which follow me in the regeneration, shall sit also upon
twelve thrones, and judge the twelve tribes of Israel_. And
concerning the equality of the twelve apostles amongst themselves,
our Saviour saith (Matth. xx. 25), _Ye know that the Lords of the
Gentiles have domination over them, &c._ Verse 26: _But it shall not
be so amongst you; but whosoever will be greatest among you, let him
be your servant_. And Matth. xxiii. 11: _He that is greatest among
you, let him be your servant_. And a little before, verse 8, _Be not
called Rabbi; for one is your doctor, Christ, and all ye are
brethren_. And Acts i. in choosing of Matthias to be an apostle,
though St. Peter used the part of a _prolocutor_, yet did no man
take upon him the authority of election, but referred the same to
lot.
[Sidenote: Parallel of the seventy elders & seventy disciples.]
5. Again, Moses had the command of God, Numb. xi. 16: _Gather to me
seventy men of the elders of Israel, whom thou knowest that they are
the elders of the people, and governors over them, and bring them
unto the tabernacle, &c._ And Moses, verse 24, did accordingly. And
these were chosen to help Moses in bearing the burthen of the
government, as appeareth, verse 17 of the same chapter. And as the
twelve princes of the tribes were according to the number of Jacob’s
children; so were the seventy elders according to the number of the
persons that went down with Jacob into Egypt. In like manner our
Saviour in his kingdom of Heaven, the church, out of the whole
number of those that believed in him, ordained seventy persons,
which peculiarly were called the seventy disciples, to whom he gave
power to preach the Gospel and baptize.
[Sidenote: The hierarchy of the church in our Saviour’s time,
consisted in the twelve, and in the seventy.]
6. In our Saviour’s time therefore, the hierarchy of the church
consisted, besides himself that was the head, of twelve apostles,
who were equal amongst themselves, but ordained over others, as were
the twelve heads of the tribes, and seventy disciples, who had every
one of them power to baptize and teach, and help to govern the whole
flock.
[Sidenote: Why Christ ordained no priests for sacrifices, as Moses
did.]
7. And whereas in the commonwealth instituted by Moses, there was
not only a high-priest for the present, but also a succession and
order of priests; it may be demanded, why our Saviour Christ did not
ordain the like? To which may be answered, that the high-priesthood,
forasmuch as concerneth the authority thereof, was in the person of
Christ, as he was Christ, that is king. So also was it in Moses,
Aaron having the ministerial part only. For notwithstanding that
Aaron was the high-priest, yet the consecration of him belonged
(Exod. xxix. 1) to Moses. All the utensils of sacrifice, and other
holy things, were ordered by Moses; and in sum, the whole Levitical
law was delivered by God by the hand of Moses, who was to Aaron a
God, and Aaron to him a mouth. And for the ministerial part, there
could no high-priest be ordained but himself; for seeing our Saviour
was himself the sacrifice, who but himself could offer him up? And
for the celebration of that sacrifice for ever after, our Saviour
annexed the priesthood to those whom he had appointed to govern in
the church.
[Sidenote: The hierarchy of the church, in the apostles' time,
apostles, bishops, and priests.]
8. After the ascension of our Saviour, the apostles dispersed
themselves for the spreading of the Gospel, and continually as they
converted any number of men, in any city or region, to the faith,
they chose out such as they thought fittest, to direct them in
matter of conversation and life, according to Christ’s law, and to
explicate unto them, that mystery of Christ come in the flesh, that
is to say, to unfold unto them at large the office of the Messiah.
And of those elders, some were subordinate to others, according as
the apostles, who ordained them, thought meet. So St. Paul gave
power unto Titus, to ordain elders in Crete, and to redress things
that were amiss. So that Titus was both an elder, and ordained
elders (Tit. i. 5): _For this cause I left thee in Crete, that thou
shouldest continue to redress the things that remain, and ordain
elders in every city_; where the word is καταστήσρς, that is
constitute; whereby it appeareth, that in the apostles' times, one
elder had authority over another, to ordain and rule them. For 1
Tim. v. 19, Timothy an elder, is made judge of accusations against
other elders. And Acts xiv. 23, the disciples are said to ordain
elders, for all the congregations of the cities they had preached
in. And though the word there be χειροτονήσαντες, yet it signifieth
not election by holding up of hands, but simply and absolutely
ordination. For the ordinary choosing of magistrates amongst the
Grecians, which were all either popularly governed, or else by
_oligarchy_, being performed by holding up of hands, made that word
be taken simply, for an election or ordination, howsoever made. And
thus in the primitive church, the hierarchy of the church, was
apostles, elders that governed other elders, and elders that ruled
not, but their office was to preach, to administer the sacraments,
to offer up prayers and thanksgiving in the name of the people. But
at that time there appeared no distinction between the names of
bishop and elder. But immediately after the apostles' time, the word
bishop was taken to signify such an elder as had the government of
elders, and other elders were called by the name of priests, which
signifieth the same that elder doth. And thus the government of
bishops hath a divine pattern in the twelve rulers, and seventy
elders of Israel, in the twelve apostles and seventy disciples of
our Saviour, in the ruling elders, and not ruling elders, in the
time of the apostles.
[Sidenote: The preaching of the gospel was not commanding, but
persuading.]
9. And thus much of the magistrates over Christ’s flock in the
primitive church. For the office of a minister, or ministress, was
to be subject to the flock, and to serve them in those things which
appertain to their temporal business. The next thing to be
considered is the authority which our Saviour gave them, either over
those whom they had converted, or those whom they were about to
convert. And for these latter, which as yet were without the church,
the authority which our Saviour gave to his apostles was no more but
this, to preach unto them that Jesus was the Christ, and to
explicate the same in all points, that concern the kingdom of
heaven, and to persuade men to embrace our Saviour’s doctrine, but
by no means to compel any man to be subject to them: for seeing the
laws of the kingdom of heaven, as hath been showed, Part I, chap. V.
sect. 10, are dictated to the conscience only, which is not subject
to compulsion and constraint, it was not congruent to the style of
the King of Heaven to constrain men to submit their actions to him,
but to advise them only; nor for him that professeth the sum of his
law to be love, to extort any duty from us with fear of temporal
punishment. And therefore as the mighty men in the world, that hold
others in subjection by force, are called in Scripture by the name
of hunters; so our Saviour calleth those whom he appointed to draw
the world unto him, by subduing their affections, _fishers_. And
therefore he saith to Peter and Andrew, (Matth. iv. 19): _Follow me,
and I will make ye fishers of men_. And Luke x. 3: _Behold_, saith
Christ, _I send ye forth as lambs amongst wolves_. And it were to no
end to give them the right of compelling, without strengthening the
same with greater power than of _lambs_ amongst _wolves_. Moreover,
Matth. x, where our Saviour giveth a commission to his apostles, to
go forth and convert the nations to the faith, he giveth them no
authority of _coercion_ and punishment, but only saith, (verse 14,
15) _Whosoever shall not receive you, nor hear your words, when ye
depart out of that house, or that city, shake off the dust of your
feet. It shall be easier for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah in the
day of judgment, than for that city._ Whereby it is manifest, that
all that the apostles could do by their authority, was no more than
to renounce communion with them, and leave their punishment to God
Almighty, in the day of judgment. Likewise the comparisons of the
kingdom of heaven to the seed, Matth. xiii. 3, and to the leaven,
Matth. xiii. 33, doth intimate unto us that the increase thereof
ought to proceed from internal operation of God’s word preached, and
not from any law or compulsion of them that preach it. Moreover our
Saviour himself saith (John xviii. 36), _That_ his _kingdom is not
of this world_; and consequently his magistrates derive not from him
any authority of punishing men in this world. And therefore also,
Matth. xxvi. 52, after St. Peter had drawn his sword in his defence,
our Saviour saith, _Put up thy sword into his place. For all that
take the sword, shall perish by the sword._ And, verse 54, _How then
shall the Scriptures be fulfilled, which say, that it must be so?_
showing out of the Scriptures, that the kingdom of Christ was not to
be defended by the sword.
[Sidenote: Excommunication. Sovereigns immediate rulers
ecclesiastical under Christ.]
10. But concerning the authority of the apostles or bishops over
those who were already converted and within the church, there be
that think it greater than over them without. For some have said,
(Bellarmin. _Lib. de Rom. Pont._ cap. 29,) _Though the law of Christ
deprive no prince of his dominion, and Paul did rightly appeal unto
Cæsar, whilst kings were infidels and out of the church; yet when
they became Christians, and of their own accord underwent the laws
of the gospel, presently as sheep to a shepherd, and as members to
the head, they became subject to the prelate of the ecclesiastical
hierarchy_. Which, whether it be true or not, is to be considered by
that light which we have from the Holy Scripture, concerning the
power of our Saviour and his apostles, over such as they had
converted. But our Saviour, as he imitated the commonwealth of the
Jews in his magistrates, the twelve and the seventy; so did he also
in the censure of the church, which was _excommunication_; but
amongst the Jews, the church did put the excommunicated persons from
the congregation, which they might do by their power temporal; but
our Saviour and his apostles, who took upon them no such power,
could not forbid the excommunicated person to enter into any place
and congregation, into which he was permitted to enter, by the
prince, or sovereign of the place. For that had been to deprive the
sovereign of his authority. And therefore the excommunication of a
person subject to an earthly power, was but a declaration of the
church, which did excommunicate, that the person so excommunicated
was to be reputed still as an infidel, but not to be driven by their
authority, out of any company, he might otherwise lawfully come
into. And this is it our Saviour saith (Matth. xviii. 17): _If he
refuse to hear the church, let him be unto thee as an heathen man
and a publican_. So that the whole effect of excommunicating a
Christian prince, is no more than he or they that so excommunicate
him depart and banish themselves out of his dominion. Nor can they
thereupon discharge any of his subjects of their obedience to him;
for that were to deprive him of his dominion; which they may not do,
for being out of the church. It is confessed by them that make this
objection, and proved in the former section, that our Saviour gave
no authority to his apostles to be judges over them. And therefore
in no case can the sovereign power of a commonwealth be subject to
any authority ecclesiastical, besides that of Christ himself. And
though he be informed concerning the kingdom of heaven, and subject
himself thereto at the persuasions of persons ecclesiastical, yet is
he not thereby subject to their government and rule. For if it were
by their authority he took that yoke upon him, and not by their
persuasion, then by the same authority he might cast it off. But
this is unlawful. For if all the churches in the world should
renounce the Christian faith, yet is not this sufficient authority
for any of the members to do the same. It is manifest therefore,
that they who have sovereign power, are immediate rulers of the
church under Christ, and all other but subordinate to them. If that
were not, but kings should command one thing upon pain of death, and
priests another, upon pain of damnation, it would be impossible that
peace and religion should stand together.
[Sidenote: That no man hath any just pretence of religion against
obedience to commonwealth. God speaketh to man by his
vicegerents.]
11. And therefore there is no just cause for any man to withdraw his
obedience from the sovereign state, upon pretence that Christ hath
ordained any state ecclesiastical above it. And though kings take
not upon them the ministerial priesthood, yet are they not so merely
laic, as not to have sacerdotal jurisdiction. To conclude this
chapter, since God speaketh not in these days to any man by his
private interpretation of the Scriptures, nor by the interpretation
of any power above, or not depending on the sovereign power of every
commonwealth, it remaineth, that he speaketh by his vice-gods, or
lieutenants here on earth, that is to say, by sovereign kings, or
such as have sovereign authority as well as they.
-------
CHAPTER VIII.
1. The things that dispose to rebellion, discontent, pretence, and
hope of success. 2. Discontent that disposeth to sedition,
consisteth partly in fear of want, or punishment: 3. Partly in
ambition. 4. Six heads of pretences to rebellion. 5. The first
of them, that men ought to do nothing against conscience,
confuted. 6. The second, that sovereigns are subject to their
own laws, confuted. 7. The third, that the sovereignty is
divisible, confuted. 8. The fourth, that subjects have a
propriety distinct from the dominion of the sovereign, confuted.
9. The fifth, that the people is a person distinct from the
sovereign, confuted. 10. The sixth, that tyrannicide is lawful,
confuted. 11. Four heads of hope of success in rebellion. 12.
Two things necessary to an author of rebellion, much eloquence,
and little wisdom. 13. That the authors of rebellion necessarily
are to be men of little wisdom. 14. That the same are
necessarily eloquent. 15. In what manner they concur to their
common effects.
[Sidenote: The things that dispose to rebellion, discontent,
pretence, and hope of success.]
1. Hitherto of the causes why, and the manner how, men have made
commonwealth. In this chapter I shall show briefly by what causes,
and in what manner, they be again destroyed; not meaning to say
anything concerning the dissolution of a commonwealth, from foreign
invasions, which is as it were the violent death thereof. I shall
speak only of sedition, which is also the death of the commonwealth,
but like to that which happeneth to a man from sickness and
distemper. To dispose men to sedition, three things concur. The
first is discontent; for as long as a man thinketh himself well, and
that the present government standeth not in his way to hinder his
proceeding from well to better, it is impossible for him to desire
the change thereof. The second is pretence of right; for though a
man be discontent, yet if in his own opinion there be no just cause
of stirring against, or resisting the government established, nor
any pretence to justify his resistance, and to procure aid, he will
never show it. The third is hope of success; for it were madness to
attempt without hope, when to fail, is to die the death of a
traitor. Without these three, discontent, pretence, and hope, there
can be no rebellion: and when the same are all together, there
wanteth nothing thereto, but a man of credit to set up the standard,
and to blow the trumpet.
[Sidenote: Discontent that disposeth to sedition, consisteth partly
in fear of want, or punishment:]
2. And as for discontent, it is of two sorts: for it consisteth
either in bodily pain present or expected, or else in trouble of the
mind; which is the general division of pleasure and pain, _Human
Nature_, chap. VII. sect. 8. The presence of bodily pain disposeth
not to sedition; the fear of it doth. As for example; when a great
multitude, or heap of people, have concurred to a crime worthy of
death, they join together, and take arms to defend themselves for
fear thereof. So also the fear of want, or in present want, the fear
of arrests and imprisonment dispose to sedition. And therefore great
exactions, though the right thereof be acknowledged, have caused
great seditions. As in the time of Henry VII. the seditions of the
Cornish men, that refused to pay a subsidy, and, under the conduct
of the Lord Audley, gave the King battle upon Blackheath; and that
of the northern people, who in the same king’s time, for demanding a
subsidy granted in parliament, murdered the Earl of Northumberland
in his house.
[Sidenote: Partly in ambition.]
3. Thirdly, the other sort of discontent, which troubleth the mind
of them who otherwise live at ease, without fear of want, or danger
of violence, ariseth only from a sense of their want of that power,
and that honour and testimony thereof, which they think is due unto
them. For all joy and grief of mind consisting (as hath been said,
_Human Nature_, chap. IX. sect. 21) in a contention for precedence
to them with whom they compare themselves; such men must needs take
it ill, and be grieved with the state, as find themselves postposed
to those in honour, whom they think they excel in virtue and ability
to govern. And this is it for which they think themselves regarded
but as slaves. Now seeing freedom cannot stand together with
subjection, liberty in a commonwealth is nothing but government and
rule, which because it cannot be divided, men must expect in common;
and that can be no where but in the popular state, or democracy. And
Aristotle saith well, (lib. VI. cap. 2 of his _Politics_), _The
ground or intention of a democracy, is liberty_. Which he confirmeth
in these words: _For men ordinarily say this, that no man can
partake of liberty, but only in a popular commonwealth_. Whosoever
therefore in a monarchical estate, where the sovereign power is
absolutely in one man, claimeth liberty, claimeth (if the hardest
construction should be made thereof) either to have the sovereignty
in his turn, or to be colleague with him that hath it, or to have
the monarchy changed into a democracy. But if the same be construed,
with pardon of that unskilful expression, according to the intention
of him that claimeth, then doth he thereby claim no more but this,
that the sovereign should take notice of his ability and deserving,
and put him into employment and place of subordinate government,
rather than others that deserve less. And as one claimeth, so doth
another, every man esteeming his own desert greatest. Amongst all
those that pretend to, or are ambitious of such honour, a few only
can be served, unless it be in a _democracy_; the rest therefore
must be discontent. And so much of the first thing that disposeth to
rebellion, namely, discontent, consisting in fear and ambition.
[Sidenote: Six heads of pretences to rebellion.]
4. The second thing that disposeth to rebellion, is _pretence of
right_. And that is when men have an opinion, or pretend to have an
opinion, that in certain cases they may lawfully resist him or them
that have the sovereign power, or deprive him or them of the means
to execute the same. Of which pretences, there be six special cases.
One is, when the command is against their conscience, and they
believe it is unlawful for a subject at the command of the sovereign
power to do any action, which he thinketh in his own conscience not
lawful for him to do, or to omit any action, which he thinketh not
lawful for him to omit. Another is, when the command is against the
laws, and they think the sovereign power in such sort obliged to his
own laws, as the subject is; and that when he performeth not his
duty, they may resist his power. A third is, when they receive
commands from some man or men, and a _supersedeas_ to the same from
others, and think the authority is equal, as if the sovereign power
were divided. A fourth is, when they are commanded to contribute
their persons or money to the public service, and think they have a
propriety in the same distinct from the dominion of the sovereign
power; and that therefore they are not bound to contribute their
goods and persons, no more than every man shall of himself think
fit. A fifth, when the commands seem hurtful to the people; and they
think, every one of them, that the opinion and sense of the people,
is the same with the opinion of himself, and those that consent with
him; calling by the name of people, any multitude of his own
faction. The sixth is, when the commands are grievous; and they
account him that commandeth grievous things a tyrant; and
tyrannicide, that is, the killing of a tyrant, not only lawful, but
also laudable.
[Sidenote: The first of them, that men ought to do nothing against
conscience, confuted.]
5. All these opinions are maintained in the books of the
_dogmatics_, and divers of them taught in public chairs, and
nevertheless are most incompatible with peace and government, and
contradictory to the necessary and demonstrable rules of the same.
And for the first, namely, that a man may lawfully do or omit any
thing against his conscience, and from whence arise all seditions
concerning religion and ecclesiastical government, it hath been
plainly declared in the two last chapters, that such opinion is
erroneous. For those two chapters have been wholly spent, to prove,
that Christian religion not only forbiddeth not, but also
commandeth, that in every commonwealth, every subject should in all
things to the uttermost of his power obey the commands of him or
them that is the sovereign thereof, and that a man in so obeying,
doth according to his conscience and judgment, as having deposited
his judgment in all controversies in the hands of the sovereign
power; and that this error proceedeth from the ignorance of what and
by whom God Almighty speaketh.
[Sidenote: The second, that sovereigns are subject to their own
laws, confuted.]
6. As for the second opinion, which is this, that the sovereign is
in such sort obliged to his own laws, as the subject is; the
contrary thereof hath been showed, Part II. chapter I. sections
7-12, by which it appeareth, that the sovereign power is not to be
resisted; that it carrieth the sword both of war and justice; that
it hath the right of deciding all controversies, both judicial and
deliberative; that it hath the making of all the laws civil; that it
appointeth magistrates and public ministers, and that it implieth an
universal impunity. How then can he or they be said to be subject to
the laws which they may abrogate at their pleasure, or break without
fear of punishment? And this error seemeth to proceed from this,
that men ordinarily understand not aright, what is meant by this
word law, confounding law and covenant, as if they signify the same
thing. But law implieth a command; covenant is but a promise. And
not every command is a law, but only (_Human Nature_, chap. XIII.
sect. 6) when the command is the reason we have of doing the action
commanded. And then only is the reason of our actions in the
command, when the omitting is therefore hurtful, because the action
was commanded, not because it was hurtful of itself; and doing
contrary to a command, were not at all hurtful, if there were not a
right in him that commandeth to punish him that so doth. He or they
that have all punishments in their own disposing, cannot be so
commanded, as to receive hurt for disobeying, and consequently no
command can be a law unto them. It is an error therefore to think,
that the power which is virtually the whole power of the
commonwealth, and which in whomsoever it resideth, is usually called
supreme or sovereign, can be subject to any law but that of God
Almighty.
[Sidenote: The third, that the sovereignty is divisible, confuted.]
7. The third opinion, _that the sovereign power may be divided_, is
no less an error than the former, as hath been proved, Part II.
chapter I. sect. 15. And if there were a commonwealth, wherein the
rights of sovereignty were divided, we must confess with Bodin, Lib.
II. chap. I. _De Republica_, that they are not rightly to be called
commonwealths, but the corruption of commonwealths. For if one part
should have power to make the laws for all, they would by their laws
at their pleasure, forbid others, to make peace or war, to levy
taxes, or to yield fealty and homage without their leave; and they
that had the right to make peace and war, and command the _militia_,
would forbid the making of other laws, than what themselves liked.
And though monarchies stand long, wherein the right of sovereignty
hath seemed so divided, because monarchy of itself is a durable kind
of government, yet monarchs have been thereby divers times thrust
out of their possession. But the truth is, that the right of
sovereignty is such, as he or they that have it, cannot, though they
would, give away any part thereof, and retain the rest. As for
example; if we should suppose the people of Rome to have had the
absolute sovereignty of the Roman state, and to have chosen them a
council by the name of the senate, and that to this senate they had
given the supreme power of making laws, reserving nevertheless to
themselves, in direct and express terms, the whole right and title
of the sovereignty; which may easily happen amongst them that see
not the inseparable connexion between the sovereign power, and the
power of making laws: I say, this grant of the people to the senate
is of no effect, and the power of making laws is in the people
still. For the senate understanding it to be the will and intention
of the people, to retain the sovereignty, ought not to take that for
granted, which was contradictory thereto, and passed by error. For
(_Human Nature_, chap. XIII. sect. 9) in contradictory promises,
that which is directly promised, is preferred before that which is
opposite thereunto by consequence; because the consequence of a
thing is not always obscured, as is the thing itself. The error
concerning mixed government hath proceeded from want of
understanding of what is meant by this word _body politic_, and how
it signifieth not the concord, but the union of many men. And though
in the chapters of subordinate corporations, a corporation being
declared to be one person in law, yet the same hath not been taken
notice of in the body of a commonwealth or city, nor have any of
those innumerable writers of politics, observed any such union.
[Sidenote: The fourth, that subjects have a propriety distinct from
the dominion of the sovereign, confuted.]
8. The fourth opinion, to wit, that subjects have their _meum_,
_tuum_, and _suum_, in property, not only by virtue of the sovereign
power over them all, distinct from one another, but also against the
sovereign himself, by which they would pretend to contribute nothing
to the public, but what they please, hath been already confuted, by
proving the absoluteness of the sovereignty, and more particularly,
Part II. chapter V. sect. 2; and ariseth from this, that they
understand not ordinarily that before the institution of sovereign
power, _meum_ and _tuum_, implied no propriety, but a community,
where every man had right to every thing, and was in state of war
with every man.
[Sidenote: The fifth, that the people is a person distinct from the
sovereign, confuted.]
9. The fifth opinion, _That the people is a distinct body from him
or them that have the sovereignty over them_, is an error already
confuted, Part II. chap. II. sect 11, where it is showed, that when
men say, _the people rebelleth_, it is to be understood of those
particular persons only, and not of the whole nation. And when the
people claimeth any thing otherwise than by the voice of the
sovereign power, it is not the claim of the people, but only of
those particular men, that claim in their own persons; and this
error ariseth from the equivocation of the word _people_.
[Sidenote: The sixth, that tyrannicide is lawful, confuted.]
10. Lastly, for the opinion, _that tyrannicide is lawful_, meaning
by a tyrant any man in whom resideth the right of sovereignty, is no
less false and pernicious to human society, than frequent in the
writings of those moral philosophers, Seneca and others, so greatly
esteemed amongst us. For when a man hath the right of sovereignty,
he cannot justly be punished, as hath been often showed already, and
therefore much less deposed, or put to death. And howsoever he might
deserve punishment, yet punishment is unjust without judgment
preceding, and judgment unjust without power of judicature, which a
subject hath not over a sovereign. But this doctrine proceedeth from
the Schools of Greece, and from those that writ in the Roman state,
in which not only the name of a tyrant, but of a king, was hateful.
[Sidenote: Four heads of hope of success in rebellion.]
11. Besides _discontent_, to the disposing of a man to rebellion,
and pretence, there is required, in the third place, _hope of
success_, which consisteth in four points: I. That the discontented
have mutual intelligence; II. That they have sufficient number; III.
That they have arms; IV. That they agree upon a head. For these four
must concur to the making of one body of rebellion, in which
intelligence is the life, number the limbs, arms the strength, and a
head the unity, by which they are directed to one and the same
action.
[Sidenote: Two things necessary to an author of rebellion, much
eloquence, and little wisdom.]
12. The authors of rebellion, that is, the men that breed these
dispositions to rebel in others, of necessity must have in them
these three qualities: I. To be discontented themselves; II. To be
men of mean judgment and capacity; and, III. To be eloquent men, or
good orators. And as for their discontent, from whence it may
proceed, hath been already declared. And for the second and third, I
am to show now, first, how they may stand together; for it seemeth a
contradiction, to place small judgment and great eloquence, or, as
they call it, powerful speaking, in the same man: and then in what
manner they concur, to dispose other men to sedition.
[Sidenote: That the authors of rebellion necessarily, are to be men
of little wisdom.]
13. It was noted by Sallust, that in Catiline, who was author of the
greatest sedition that ever was in Rome, there was _Eloquentiæ
satis, sapientiæ parum_; _eloquence sufficient_, but _little
wisdom_. And perhaps this was said of Catiline, as he was Catiline:
but it was true of him as an author of sedition. For the conjunction
of these two qualities made him not Catiline, but seditious. And
that it may be understood, how want of _wisdom_, and store of
_eloquence_, may stand together, we are to consider, what it is we
call wisdom, and what eloquence. And therefore I shall here again
remember some things, that have been said already, _Human Nature_,
chap. V. VI. It is manifest that wisdom consisteth in knowledge. Now
of knowledge there are two kinds; whereof the one is the remembrance
of such things, as we have conceived by our senses, and of the order
in which they follow one another. And this _knowledge_ is called
_experience_; and the wisdom that proceedeth from it, is that
ability to conjecture by the present, of what is past, and to come,
which men call _prudence_. This being so, it is manifest presently,
that the author of sedition, whosoever he be, must not be prudent.
For if he consider and take his experiences aright, concerning the
success which they have had, who have been the movers and authors of
sedition, either in this or any other state, he shall find, that for
one man that hath thereby advanced himself to honour, twenty have
come to a reproachful end. The other kind of knowledge, is the
remembrance of the names or appellations of things, and how every
thing is called, which is, in matters of common conversation, a
remembrance of pacts and covenants of men made amongst themselves,
concerning how to be understood of one another. And this kind of
knowledge is generally called science, and the conclusions thereof
truth. But when men remember not how things are named, by general
agreement, but either mistake and misname things, or name them
aright by chance, they are not said to have science, but opinion,
and the conclusions thence proceeding, are uncertain, and for the
most part erroneous. Now that science in particular, from which
proceed the true and evident conclusions of what is right and wrong,
and what is good and hurtful to the being, and well-being of
mankind, the Latins call _sapientia_, and we by the general name of
wisdom. For generally, not he that hath skill in geometry, or any
other science speculative, but only he that understandeth what
conduceth to the good and government of the people, is called a wise
man. Now that no author of sedition can be wise in this acceptation
of the word, is sufficiently proved, in that it hath been already
demonstrated, that no pretence of sedition can be right or just. And
therefore the authors of sedition must be ignorant of the right of
state, that is to say, unwise. It remaineth therefore, that they be
such, as name things, not according to their true and generally
agreed upon names, but call right and wrong, good and bad, according
to their passions, or according to the authorities of such as they
admire, as Aristotle, Cicero, Seneca, and others of like authority,
who have given the names of right and wrong, as their passions have
dictated; or have followed the authority of other men, as we do
theirs. It is required therefore in an author of sedition, that he
think right, that which is wrong; and profitable, that which is
pernicious; and consequently that there be in him _sapientiæ parum_,
little wisdom.
[Sidenote: That the same are necessarily eloquent.]
14. Eloquence is nothing else but the power of winning belief of
what we say. And to that end we must have aid from the passions of
the hearer. Now to demonstration and teaching of the truth, there
are required long deductions, and great attention, which is
unpleasant to the hearer. Therefore they which seek not truth, but
belief, must take another way, and not only derive what they would
have to be believed, from somewhat believed already, but also, by
aggravations and extenuations, make good and bad, right and wrong,
appear great or less, according as shall serve their turns. And such
is the power of eloquence, as many times a man is made to believe
thereby, that he sensibly feeleth smart and damage, when he feeleth
none, and to enter into rage and indignation, without any other
cause, than what is in the words and passion of the speaker. This
considered, together with the business that he hath to do, who is
the author of rebellion, namely, to make men believe that their
rebellion is just, their discontents grounded upon great injuries,
and their hopes great; there needeth no more to prove, there can be
no author of rebellion, that is not an eloquent and powerful
speaker, and withal, as hath been said before, a man of little
wisdom. For the faculty of speaking powerfully, consisteth in a
habit gotten of putting together passionate words, and applying them
to the present passions of the hearer. are not able to effect.
[Sidenote: In what manner they concur to their common effects.]
15. Seeing then eloquence and want of discretion concur to the
stirring of rebellion, it may be demanded, what part each of these
acteth therein? The daughters of Pelias, king of Thessaly, desiring
to restore their old decrepit father to the vigour of his youth, by
the counsel of Medea, chopped him in pieces, and set him a boiling
with I know not what herbs in a cauldron, but could not revive him
again. So when eloquence and want of judgment go together, want of
judgment, like the daughters of Pelias, consenteth, through
eloquence, which is as the witchcraft of Medea, to cut the
commonwealth in pieces, upon pretence or hope of reformation, which
when things are in combustion, they are not able to effect.
-------
CHAPTER IX.
1. The law over sovereigns, _salus populi_. 2. That sovereigns ought
to establish the religion they hold for best. 3. That to forbid
unnatural copulation, promiscuous use of women, &c. is the law
of nature. 4. That to leave man as much liberty as may be, &c.
is the duty of a sovereign by the law of nature. 5. _Meum_ and
_tuum_, to be set out to the subjects, distinct from one
another, &c. a duty of sovereigns by the law of nature. 6. An
extraordinary power for judging the abuses of magistrates,
necessary, &c. 7. The suppressing of popularity, &c. necessary,
&c. 8. The instruction of youth, &c. necessary, &c. 9. Avoiding
of unnecessary war, a necessary duty of the sovereign, &c.
[Sidenote: The law over sovereigns _salus populi_.]
1. Having hitherto set forth how a body politic is made, and how it
may be destroyed, this place requireth to say something concerning
the preservation of the same, not purposing to enter into the
particulars of the art of government, but to sum up the general
heads, wherein such art is to be employed, and in which consisteth
the duty of him or them that have the sovereign power. For the duty
of a sovereign consisteth in the good government of the people. And
although the acts of sovereign power be no injuries to the subjects
who have consented to the same by their implicit wills, yet when
they tend to the hurt of the people in general, they be breaches of
the law of nature, and of the divine law; and consequently, the
contrary acts are the duties of sovereigns, and required at their
hands to the utmost of their endeavour, by God Almighty, under the
pain of eternal death. And as the art and duty of sovereigns consist
in the same acts, so also doth their profit. For the end of art, is
profit; and governing to the profit of the subjects, is governing to
the profit of the sovereign, as hath been showed Part II. chapter V.
section 1. And these three: 1. The law over them that have sovereign
power: 2. Their duty: 3. Their profit: are one and the same thing
contained in this sentence, _Salus populi suprema lex_. By which
must be understood, not the mere preservation of their lives, but
generally their benefit and good. So that this is the general law
for sovereigns, _That they procure, to the uttermost of their
endeavour, the good of the people_.
[Sidenote: That sovereigns ought to establish the religion they hold
for best.]
2. And forasmuch as eternal is better than temporal good, it is
evident, that they who are in sovereign authority, are by the law of
nature obliged to further the establishing of all such doctrines and
rule, and the commanding of all such actions, as in their conscience
they believe to be the true way thereunto. For unless they do so, it
cannot be said truly, that they have done the uttermost of their
endeavour.
[Sidenote: That to forbid unnatural copulation, promiscuous use of
women, &c. is the law of nature.]
3. For the temporal good of the people, it consisteth in four
points: 1. Multitude: 2. Commodity of living: 3. Peace amongst
themselves: 4. Defence against foreign power. Concerning multitude,
it is the duty of them that are in sovereign authority, to increase
the people, in as much as they are governors of mankind under God
Almighty, who having created but one man, and one woman, declared,
that it was his will they should be multiplied and increased
afterwards. And seeing this is to be done by ordinances concerning
copulation, they are by the law of nature bound to make such
ordinances concerning the same, as may tend to the increase of
mankind. And hence it cometh, that in them who have sovereign
authority, not to forbid such copulations as are against the use of
nature; not to forbid the promiscuous use of women, not to forbid
one woman to have many husbands, not to forbid marriages within
certain degrees of kindred and affinity, are against the law of
nature. For though it be not evident, that a private man living
under the law of natural reason only, doth break the same, by doing
any of the things aforesaid; yet it is manifestly apparent, that
being so prejudicial as they are to the improvement of mankind, that
not to forbid the same, is against the law of natural reason in him,
that hath taken into his hands any portion of mankind to improve.
[Sidenote: That to leave man as much liberty as may be, &c. is the
duty of a sovereign by the law of nature.]
4. The commodity of living consisteth in liberty and wealth. By
liberty, I mean, that there be no prohibition without necessity of
any thing to any man, which was lawful to him in the law of nature;
that is to say, that there be no restraint of natural liberty, but
what is necessary for the good of the commonwealth, and that
well-meaning men may not fall into the danger of laws, as into
snares, before they be aware. It appertaineth also to this liberty,
that a man may have commodious passage from place to place, and not
be imprisoned or confined with the difficulty of ways, and want of
means for transportation of things necessary. And for the wealth of
people, it consisteth in three things, the well ordering of trade,
procuring of labour, and forbidding the superfluous consuming of
food and apparel. All those therefore that are in sovereign
authority, and have taken upon them the government of people, are
bound by the law of nature to make ordinances consisting in the
points afore named, as being contrary to the law of nature,
unnecessarily, either for one’s own fancy, to enthral, or tie men
so, as they cannot move without danger; or to suffer them whose
maintenance is our benefit, to want anything necessary for them, by
our negligence.
[Sidenote: _Meum_ and _tuum_, to be set out to the subjects,
distinct from one another, &c. a duty of sovereigns by
the law of nature.]
5. For maintaining of peace at home, there be so many things
necessarily to be considered, and taken order in, as there be
several causes concurring to sedition. And first, it is necessary to
set out to every subject, his propriety, and distinct lands and
goods, upon which he may exercise and have the benefit of his own
industry, and without which men would fall out amongst themselves,
as did the herdsmen of Abraham and Lot, every man encroaching and
usurping as much of the common benefit as he can, which tendeth to
quarrel and sedition. Secondly, to divide the burthens and charges
of the commonwealth proportionably. Now there is a _proportionably_
to every man’s ability, and there is a _proportionably_ to his
benefit by commonwealth: and this latter is it, which is according
to the law of nature. For the burdens of the commonwealth being the
price that we pay for the benefit thereof, they ought to be measured
thereby. And there is no reason, when two men equally enjoying, by
the benefit of the commonwealth, their peace and liberty, to use
their industry to get their livings, whereof one spareth, and layeth
up somewhat, the other spendeth all he gets, why they should not
equally contribute to the common charge. That seemeth therefore to
be the most equal way of dividing the burden of public charge, when
every man shall contribute according to what he spendeth, and not
according to what he gets. And this is then done, when men pay the
commonwealth’s part in the payments they make for their own
provision. And this seemeth not only most equal, but also least
sensible, and least to trouble the mind of them that pay it. For
there is nothing so aggravateth the grief of parting with money to
the public, as to think they are over-rated, and that their
neighbours whom they envy, do thereupon insult over them, and this
disposeth them to resistance, and, after that such resistance hath
produced a mischief, to rebellion.
[Sidenote: An extraordinary power for judging the abuses of
magistrates, necessary, &c.]
6. Another thing necessary for the maintaining of peace, is the due
execution of justice, which consisteth principally in the right
performance of their duties, which are the magistrates, ordained for
the same by and under the authority of the sovereign power, which
being private men in respect of the sovereign, and consequently such
as may have private ends, whereby they may be corrupted with gifts,
or intercession of friends, ought to be kept in awe by an higher
power, lest people, grieved by their injustice, should take upon
them to make their own revenges, to the disturbance of the common
peace; which can by no way be avoided in the principal and immediate
magistrates, without the judicature of the sovereign himself, or
some extraordinary power delegated by him. It is therefore
necessary, that there be a power extraordinary, as there shall be
occasion from time to time, for the syndication of judges and other
magistrates, that shall abuse their authority, to the wrong and
discontent of the people; and a free and open way for the presenting
of grievances to him or them that have the sovereign authority.
[Sidenote: The suppressing of popularity, &c. necessary, &c.]
7. Besides these considerations, by which are prevented the
discontents that arise from oppression, there ought to be some means
for the keeping under of those, that are disposed to rebellion by
ambition; which consist principally in the constancy of him that
hath the sovereign power, who ought therefore constantly to grace
and encourage such, as being able to serve the commonwealth, do
nevertheless contain themselves within the bounds of modesty,
without repining at the authority of such as are employed, and
without aggravating the errors, which, as men, they may commit,
especially when they suffer not in their own particular; and
constantly to show displeasure, and dislike of the contrary. And not
only so, but also to ordain severe punishments for such, as shall by
reprehension of public actions, affect popularity and applause
amongst the multitude, by which they may be enabled to have a
faction in the commonwealth at their devotion.
[Sidenote: The instruction of youth, &c. necessary, &c.]
8. Another thing necessary, is the rooting out of the consciences of
men, all those opinions which seem to justify and give pretence of
right to rebellious actions; such as are the opinions, that a man
can do nothing lawfully against his private conscience; that they
who have the sovereignty, are subject to the civil laws; that there
is any authority of subjects, whose negative may hinder the
affirmative of the sovereign power; that any subject hath a
propriety distinct from the dominion of the commonwealth; that there
is a body of the people without him or them that have the sovereign
power; and that any lawful sovereign may be resisted under the name
of a tyrant; which opinions are they, which, Part II. chap. VIII.
sect. 5-10, have been declared to dispose men to rebellion. And
because opinions which are gotten by education, and in length of
time, are made habitual, cannot be taken away by force, and upon the
sudden; they must therefore be taken away also by time and
education. And seeing the said opinions have proceeded from private
and public teaching, and those teachers have received them from
grounds and principles, which they have learned in the Universities,
from the doctrine of Aristotle, and others, who have delivered
nothing concerning morality and policy demonstratively; but being
passionately addicted to popular government, have insinuated their
opinions by eloquent sophistry. There is no doubt, if the true
doctrine concerning the law of nature, and the properties of a body
politic, and the nature of law in general, were perspicuously set
down and taught in the Universities, but that young men, who come
thither void of prejudice, and whose minds are as white paper,
capable of any instruction, would more easily receive the same, and
afterward teach it to the people, both in books and otherwise, than
now they do the contrary.
[Sidenote: Avoiding of unnecessary war, a necessary duty of the
sovereign, &c.]
9. The last thing contained in that supreme law, _salus populi_, is
their defence; and consisteth partly in the obedience and unity of
the subjects, of which hath been already spoken, and in which
consisteth the means of levying soldiers, and of having money, arms,
ships, and fortified places in readiness for defence; and partly, in
the avoiding of unnecessary wars. For such commonwealths, or such
monarchs, as affect war for itself, that is to say, out of ambition,
or of vain-glory, or that make account to revenge every little
injury, or disgrace done by their neighbours, if they ruin not
themselves, their fortune must be better than they have reason to
expect.
-------
CHAPTER X.
1. All expressions, &c. concerning future actions, are either
covenant, counsel, or command. 2. The difference between a law
and a covenant. 3. The command of him whose command is law in
one thing, is law in every thing. 4. The difference between law
and counsel. 5. The difference between _jus_ and _lex_. 6. The
division of laws, &c. 7. That the divine moral law, and the law
of nature, is the same. 8. That the civil laws are the common
measure of right and wrong, &c. 9. Martial law is civil law. 10.
Written laws, &c. Unwritten, &c. Customs and opinions, &c.
[Sidenote: All expressions, &c. concerning future actions, are
either covenant, counsel, or command.]
1. Thus far concerning the Nature of Man, and the constitution and
properties of a Body Politic. There remaineth only for the last
chapter, to speak of the nature and sorts of law. And first it is
manifest, that all laws are declarations of the mind, concerning
some action future to be done, or omitted. And all declarations and
expressions of the mind concerning future actions and omissions, are
either _promissive_, as _I will do, or not do_; or _provisive_, as
for example, _If this be done or not done, this will follow_; or
_imperative_, as _Do this, or do it not_. In the first sort of these
expressions, consisteth the nature of a covenant; in the second,
consisteth counsel; in the third, command.
[Sidenote: The difference between a law and a covenant.]
2. It is evident when a man doth, or forbeareth to do any action, if
he be moved thereto by this only consideration, that the same is
good or evil in itself; and that there be no reason why the will or
pleasure of another, should be of any weight in his deliberation,
that then neither to do nor omit the action deliberated, is any
breach of law. And consequently, whatsoever is a law to a man,
respecteth the will of another, and the declaration thereof. But a
covenant is a declaration of a man’s own will. And therefore a law
and a covenant differ: and though they be both obligatory, and a law
obligeth no otherwise than by virtue of some covenant made by him
who is subject thereunto, yet they oblige by several sorts of
promises. For a covenant obligeth by promise of an action, or
omission especially named and limited; but a law bindeth by a
promise of obedience in general, whereby the action to be done, or
left undone, is referred to the determination of him, to whom the
covenant is made. So that the difference between a covenant and a
law, standeth thus: in simple covenant, the action to be done, or
not done, is first limited and made known, and then followeth the
promise to do or not do; but in a law, the obligation to do or not
to do, precedeth, and the declaration what is to be done, or not
done, followeth after.
[Sidenote: The command of him whose command is law in one thing, is
law in every thing.]
3. And from this may be deduced, that which to some may seem a
_paradox, That the command of him, whose command is a law in one
thing, is a law in every thing_. For seeing a man is obliged to
obedience before what he is to do be known, he is obliged to obey in
general, that is to say, in every thing.
[Sidenote: The difference between law and counsel.]
4. That the counsel of a man is no law to him that is counselled,
and that he who alloweth another to give him counsel, doth not
thereby oblige himself to follow the same, is manifest enough. And
yet men usually call counselling, by the name of governing; not that
they are not able to distinguish between them, but because they envy
many times those men that are called to counsel, and are therefore
angry with them that they are counselled. But if to counsellors
there should be given a right to have their counsel followed, then
are they no more counsellors, but masters of them whom they counsel;
and their counsels no more counsels, but laws. For the difference
between a law and a counsel being no more but this, that in counsel
the expression is, _Do, because it is best_; in a law, _Do, because
I have a right to compel you_; or _Do, because I say, do_; when
counsel should give the reason of the action it adviseth to, because
the reason thereof itself is no more counsel, but a law.
[Sidenote: The difference between _jus_ & _lex_.]
5. The names _lex_ and _jus_, that is to say, law and right, are
often confounded, and yet scarce are there any two words of more
contrary signification. For right is that liberty which law leaveth
us, and laws those restraints by which we agree mutually to abridge
one another’s liberty. Law and right therefore are no less different
than restraint and liberty, which are contrary; and whatsoever a man
doth, that liveth in a commonwealth _jure_, he doth it _jure
civili_, _jure naturæ_, and _jure divino_. For whatsoever is against
any of these laws, cannot be said to be _jure_. For the civil law
cannot make that to be done _jure_, which is against the law
_divine_, or of _nature_. And therefore whatsoever any subject doth,
if it be not contrary to the civil law, and whatsoever a sovereign
doth, if it be not against the law of nature, he doth it _jure
divino_, by _divine right_. But to say, _lege divinâ_, by _divine
law_, is another thing. For the laws of God and nature allowing
greater liberty than is allowed by the law civil; for subordinate
laws do still bind more than superior laws, the essence of law being
not to loose, but to bind, a man may be commanded that by a law
civil, which is not commanded by the law of nature, nor by the law
divine. So that of things done _lege_, that is to say, by command of
the law, there is some place for a distinction between _lege
divinâ_, and _lege civili_. As when a man giveth an alms, or helpeth
him that is in need, he doth it not _lege civili_, but _lege
divinâ_, by the divine law, the precept whereof is _charity_. But
for things that are done _jure_, nothing can be said to be done
_jure divino_, that is not also _jure civili_, unless it be done by
them that having sovereign power, are not subject to the civil law.
[Sidenote: The division of laws, &c.]
6. The differences of laws, are according to the differences, either
of the authors and lawmakers, or of the promulgation, or of those
that are subject to them. From the difference of the authors, or
lawmakers, cometh the division of law into _divine_, _natural_, and
_civil_. From the difference of promulgation, proceedeth the
division of laws into _written_ and _unwritten_. And from the
difference of the persons to whom the law appertaineth, it
proceedeth, that some laws are called simply laws, and some penal.
As for example, _thou shalt not steal_, is simply a law; but this,
_he that stealeth an ox, shall restore four-fold_, is a penal, or as
others call it, a judicial law. Now in those laws, which are simply
laws, the commandment is addressed to every man; but in penal laws
the commandment is addressed to the magistrate, who is only guilty
of the breach of it, when the penalties ordained, are not inflicted;
to the rest appertained nothing, but to take notice of their danger.
[Sidenote: That the divine moral law, and the law of nature, is the
same.]
7. As for the first division of law into _divine_, _natural_, and
_civil_, the first two branches are one and the same law. For the
law of nature, which is also the moral law, is the law of the author
of nature, God Almighty; and the law of God taught by our Saviour
Christ, is the moral law. For the sum of God’s law is, _Thou shalt
love God above all, and thy neighbour as thyself_; and the same is
the sum of the law of nature, as hath been showed, Part I. chap. V.
And although the doctrine of our Saviour be of three parts, _moral_,
_theological_, and _ecclesiastical_; the former part only, which is
the moral, is of the nature of a law universal; the latter part is a
branch of the law civil; and the theological, which containeth those
articles concerning the divinity and kingdom of our Saviour, without
which there is no salvation, is not delivered in the nature of laws,
but of counsel and direction, how to avoid the punishment, which by
the violation of the moral law, men are subject to. For it is not
infidelity that condemneth, though it be faith that saveth, but the
breach of the law and commandments of God, written first in man’s
heart, and afterwards in tables, and delivered to the Jews by the
hands of Moses.
[Sidenote: That the civil laws are the common measure of right and
wrong, &c.]
8. In the state of nature, where every man is his own judge, and
differeth from other concerning the names and appellations of
things, and from those differences arise quarrels and breach of
peace, it was necessary there should be a common measure of all
things, that might fall in controversy. As for example; of what is
to be called right, what good, what virtue, what much, what little,
what _meum_ and _tuum_, what a pound, what a quart, &c. For in these
things private judgments may differ, and beget controversy. This
common measure, some say, is _right reason_: with whom I should
consent, if there were any such thing to be found or known _in rerum
naturâ_. But commonly they that call for _right reason_ to decide
any controversy, do mean their own. But this is certain, seeing
_right reason_ is not existent, the reason of some man or men must
supply the place thereof; and that man or men, is he or they, that
have the sovereign power, as hath been already proved; and
consequently the civil laws are to all subjects the measures of
their actions, whereby to determine, whether they be right or wrong,
profitable or unprofitable, virtuous or vicious; and by them the use
and definition of all names not agreed upon, and tending to
controversy, shall be established. As for example, when upon
occasion of some strange and deformed birth, it shall not be decided
by Aristotle, or the philosophers, whether the same be a man, or no,
but by the laws; the civil law containing in it the ecclesiastical,
as a part thereof, proceeding from the power of ecclesiastical
government, given by our Saviour to all Christian sovereigns, as his
immediate vicars, as hath been said Part II. chap. VII. sect. 10.
[Sidenote: Martial law is civil law.]
9. But seeing it hath been said, that all laws are either natural or
civil, it may be demanded, to which of these shall be referred that
law, which is called martial law, and by the Romans, _disciplina
militaris_? And it may seem to be the same with the law of nature;
because the laws by which a multitude of soldiers are governed in an
army are not constant, but continually changing with the occasion;
and that is still a law, which is reason for the present, and reason
is the law of nature. It is nevertheless true, that martial law is
civil law, because an army is a body politic, the whole power
whereof is in the General, and the laws thereof made by him; and
though they still follow and change as reason requireth, yet it is
not, as the reason of every private man, but as the reason of the
General requireth.
[Sidenote: Written laws, Unwritten, &c. Customs, and Opinions, &c.]
10. When he or they in whom is the sovereign power of a
commonwealth, are to ordain laws for the government and good order
of the people, it is not possible they should comprehend all cases
of controversy that may fall out, or perhaps any considerable
diversity of them: but as time shall instruct them by the rising of
new occasions, so are also laws from time to time to be ordained:
and in such cases where no special law is made, the law of nature
keepeth its place, and the magistrates ought to give sentence
according thereunto, that is to say, according to natural reason.
The constitutions therefore of the sovereign power, by which the
liberty of nature is abridged, are written, because there is no
other way to take notice of them; whereas the laws of nature are
supposed to be written in men’s hearts. Written laws therefore are
the constitutions of a commonwealth expressed; and unwritten, are
the laws of natural reason. Custom of itself maketh no laws.
Nevertheless when a sentence hath been once given, by them that
judge by their natural reason, whether the same be right or wrong,
it may attain to the vigour of a law; not because the like sentence
hath of custom been given in the like case, but because the
sovereign power is supposed tacitly to have approved such sentence
for right, and thereby it cometh to be a law, and numbered amongst
the written laws of the commonwealth. For if custom were sufficient
to introduce a law, then it would be in the power of every one that
is deputed to hear a cause, to make his errors laws. In the like
manner, those laws that go under the title of _responsa prudentum_,
that is to say, the opinions of lawyers, are not therefore laws,
because _responsa prudentum_, but because they are admitted by the
sovereign. And from this may be collected, that when there is a case
of private contract between the sovereign and the subject, a
precedent against reason shall not prejudice the cause of the
sovereign; no precedent being made a law, but upon supposition that
the same was reasonable from the beginning.
And thus much concerning the elements and general grounds of laws
natural and politic. As for the law of nations, it is the same with
the law of nature. For that which is the law of nature between man
and man, before the constitution of commonwealth, is the law of
nations between sovereign and sovereign, after.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
OF
LIBERTY AND NECESSITY:
A TREATISE,
WHEREIN ALL CONTROVERSY CONCERNING
PREDESTINATION, ELECTION, FREE-WILL, GRACE,
MERITS, REPROBATION, &c.
IS FULLY DECIDED AND CLEARED.
IN ANSWER TO A TREATISE
WRITTEN BY THE BISHOP OF LONDONDERRY,
ON THE SAME SUBJECT.
TO THE
SOBER AND DISCREET READER.
It made St. Chrysostom tremble whenever he reflected on the
proportion, which those that went the _narrow_ way, bore to those
which marched in the _broad_, how _many_ were the called, and how
_few_ the chosen, how many they were that were created for and in a
capacity of eternal beatitude, and how few attained it. This
consideration certainly would make a man look upon the Holy
Scriptures, among Christians, as the greatest indulgence of heaven,
being all the directions it hath been pleased to afford poor _man_
in so difficult a journey as that of his eternal bliss or misery.
But when a man cometh to look into those transcendant writings, he
finds them to be the works of a sort of innocent harmless men, that
had little acquaintance or familiarity with the world, and
consequently not much interested in the troubles and quarrels of
several countries; that though they are all but necessary, yet were
they written occasionally, rather than out of design; and lastly,
that their main business is, to abstract man from this world, and to
persuade him to prefer the bare hope of what he can neither _see_,
_hear_, nor _conceive_, before all the present enjoyments this world
can afford. This begat a reverence and esteem to them in all those
who endeavour to work out their salvation out of them. But if a man,
not weighing them in themselves, shall consider the practices of
those, who pretend to be the interpreters of them, and to make them
fit meat for the people; how that instead of renouncing the world,
they endeavour to raise themselves into the greatest promotions,
leisure, and luxury; that they make them the decoys of the people,
to carry on designs and intrigues of state, and study the enjoyments
of this world more than any other people: he will find some grounds
to conclude, the practices of such men to be the greatest
disturbance, burden, and vexation of the Christian part of the
world. The complaint is as true as sad; instead of acquainting the
credulous vulgar, with the main end of their functions, and the
great business of their embassy, what a great measure of felicity is
prepared for them, and how easily it may be forfeited; they involve
their consciences in the briars of a thousand needless scruples,
they spin out volumes out of half sentences, nay, out of points and
accents, and raise endless controversies about things, (were men
free from passion and prejudice), in themselves clear enough: and
when they have canvassed their questions, till they are weary
themselves, and have wearied hearers and readers, and all they have
to do with, every one sits down under his own vine, and hugs his own
apprehensions; so that after all their pains, bandings, and
implacable adhesion to parties, the inconvenience remains still, and
we as far from any solid conviction, as at first setting out.
The controversies betwixt _Rome_ and the _Reformation_ are long
since beaten out of the pit, by other combatants of their own brood;
so that if we speak of _Protestant_ and _Catholic_, they are in a
manner content to sit down with their present acquests: for as to
conviction, he certainly is a rare _proselyte_, at whose conversion,
_interest_, _humour_, _discontent_, _inclination_, are not admitted
to the debate.
But to come yet nearer our purpose, let us consider our own
fractions of fractions of _religion_ here in England, where if that
saying, that _it is better to live where nothing is lawful, than
where all things_, be as true in _religion_ as _policy_, posterity
may haply feel the sad consequence of it. What, I pray, is the
effect of so many _sermons_, _teachings_, _preachings_,
_exercises_, and _exercising of gifts_, _meetings_, _disputations_,
_conferences_, _conventicles_, _printed books_, written with so much
distraction and presumption upon God Almighty, and abuse of his Holy
Word? Marry this: it is the seminary of many vexatious, endless, and
fruitless controversies, the consequence whereof are jealousies,
heart-burnings, exasperation of parties, the introduction of
factions and national quarrels into matters of religion, and
consequently all the calamities of war and devastation. Besides,
they are good lawful diversions for the duller sort of _citizens_,
who contract diseases for want of motion; they supply the building
of pyramids among the Egyptians, by diverting the thoughts of the
people from matters of state, and consequently from rebellion.
They find work for _printers_, &c. if the parties interested are
troubled with the itch of popularity, and will suffer themselves to
be scratched out of somewhat by way of contribution to the
impression. Hence is the _stationer’s_ shop furnished, and thence
the _minister’s_ study in the country, who having found out the
humour of his auditory, consults with his stationer, on what books
his money is best bestowed; who very gravely, it may be, will
commend _Cole upon the Philippians_ before the excellent, but
borrowed, _Caryl upon Job_. But as to any matter of conviction, we
see every one _acquiesces_ in his own sentiments, every one hears
the teacher who is most to his humour; and when he hath been at
church, and pretends to have sat at his feet, comes home and
censures him as he pleases.
To be yet a little more particular, what shall we think of those
vast and involuble volumes concerning _predestination_, _free-will_,
_free-grace_, _election_, _reprobation_, &c., which fill not only
our libraries, but the world with their noise and disturbance,
whereof the least thing we are to expect is _conviction_; every side
endeavouring to make good their own grounds, and keep the cudgels in
their hands as long as they can? What stir is there between the
Molinists and Jansenists about _grace_ and _merits_; and yet both
pretend St. Augustin!
Must we not expect, that the Jesuits will, were it for no other end
but to vindicate that reputation of learning they have obtained in
the world, endeavour to make good their tenets, though the other
were the truer opinion? Is truth then retired to that inaccessible
rock that admits no approaches? Or are we all turned Ixions, and
instead of enjoying that Juno, entertain ourselves with the _clouds_
of our own persuasions; of which unnatural coition, what other issue
can there be but Centaurs and monstrous opinions? To these questions
I shall not presume to answer, but in the words of this great
author, who answering the charge of _impiety_ laid upon the holding
of necessity, says thus; _If we consider the greatest part of
mankind, not as they should be, but as they are, that is as men,
whom either the study of acquiring wealth and preferment, or whom
the appetite of sensual delights, or the impatience of meditating,
or the rash embracing of wrong principles, have made unapt to
discuss the truth of things, I must confess, &c._
Certainly we have some reason to expect an effectual cure from this
man, since he hath so fortunately found out the disease. Now if he
in so few sheets hath performed more than all the voluminous
works of the _priests and ministers_, and that in points of
soul-concernment and Christian interest, as _predestination_,
_free-will_, _grace_, _merits_, _election_, _reprobation_,
_necessity_, and _liberty_ of actions, and others, the main hinges
of human _salvation_; and to do this, being a person, whom not only
the averseness of his nature to engage himself in matters
of controversy of this kind, but his severer study of the
_mathematics_, might justly exempt from any such skirmishes; we may
not stick to infer, that the _black-coats_, generally taken, are a
sort of ignorant _tinkers_, who in matters of their own profession,
such as is the _mending_ and _soldering_ of men’s _consciences_,
have made more _holes_ than they found; nay, what makes them more
impardonable, they have neither the gratitude nor ingenuity to
acknowledge this repairer of their breaches, and assertor of their
reputation, who hath now effected what they all this while have been
tampering about. I know this author is little beholden to the
_ministers_, and they make a great part of the nation; and besides
them, I know there are many illiterate, obstinate, and inconvincible
spirits: yet I dare advance this proposition, how bold soever it may
seem to some; that this book, how little and contemptible soever it
may seem, contains more evidence and conviction in the matters it
treats of, than all the volumes, nay libraries, which the _priests_,
_jesuits_, and _ministers_ have, to our great charge, distraction,
and loss of precious time, furnished us with. Which if so, I shall
undertake for any rational man, that all the controversial labours
concerning religion in the world, all the polemical treatises of the
most ancient or modern, shall never breed any maggots of scruples,
or dissatisfactions in his brains, nor shall his eyes or head ever
ache with turning them over; but he shall be so resolved in mind, as
never to importune God Almighty with impertinent addresses, nor ever
become any of those enthusiastical _spiritati_, who, as the most
learned Mr. White says, _expound Scripture without sense or reason_,
and are not to be disputed with but with the same success as men
write on sand, and trouble their neighbours with their dreams,
revelations, and spiritual whimsies. No! here is solid conviction,
at least so far as the metaphysical mysteries of our religion will
admit. If God be _omnipotent_, he is _irresistible_; if so, _just_
in all his actions, though we, who have as much capacity to measure
the justice of God’s actions as a man born blind to judge of
colours, haply may not discern it. What then need any man trouble
his head, whether he be predestinated or no? Let him live justly and
honestly according to the _religion_ of his _country_, and refer
himself to God for the rest, since he is the potter, and may do what
he please with the vessel. But I leave the reader to find his
satisfaction in the treatise itself, since it may be I derogate from
it by saying so much before it. This book, I doubt not, will find no
worse entertainment than the _Leviathan_, both in regard of its
bulk, and that it doth not strike so home at the _ministers_ and
_Catholic_ party as that did. And yet here we must complain of want
of sufficiency or ingenuity to acknowledge the truths or confute the
errors of that book; which till it is done, we shall not count the
author an heretic. On this side the sea, besides the dirt and
slander cast on him in _sermons_ and private meetings, none hath put
anything in print against him, but Mr. Rosse; one who may be said to
have had so much learning, as to have been perpetually barking at
the works of the most learned. How he hath been received beyond seas
I know not, but certainly, not without the regret of the
_Catholics_; who building their _church_ on other foundations than
those of the _Scriptures_, and pretending _infallibility_,
_certitude_, and _unity_ in _religion_, cannot but be discontented
that these prerogatives of religion are taken away, not only from
_tradition_, that is to say, from the _church_, but also from the
_Scriptures_, and are invested in the _supreme power_ of the nation,
be it of what persuasion it will.
Thus much, Reader, I have thought fit to acquaint thee with, that
thou mightest know what a jewel thou hast in thy hands, which thou
must accordingly value, not by the bulk, but the preciousness. Thou
hast here in a few sheets what might prove work enough for many
thousand sermons and exercises; and more than the _catechisms_ and
_confessions_ of a thousand _assemblies_ could furnish thee with:
thou hast what will cast an eternal blemish on all the _cornered_
caps of _priests_ and _jesuits_, and all the _black and white_ caps
of the _canting tribe_; to be short, thou art now acquainted with
that man, who, in matters of so great importance as those of thy
salvation, furnishes thee with better instructions, than any thou
hast ever yet been acquainted with, what _profession_, _persuasion_,
_opinion_, or _church_ soever thou art of; of whom and his works
make the best use thou canst. Farewell.
pm hrdbl
TO THE
LORD MARQUIS OF NEWCASTLE.
-------
RIGHT HONOURABLE,
I had once resolved to answer my Lord Bishop’s objections to my book
DE CIVE in the first place, as that which concerns me most; and
afterwards to examine his Discourse of LIBERTY and NECESSITY, which,
because I had never uttered my opinion of it, concerned me the less.
But seeing it was your Lordship’s and my Lord Bishop’s desire that I
should begin with the _latter_, I was contented so to do, and here I
present and submit it to your Lordship’s judgment.
And first I assure your Lordship I find in it no new argument
neither from _Scripture_ nor from _reason_, that I have not often
heard before, which is as much as to say, I am not surprised.
The _preface_ is a handsome one, but it appeareth even in that, that
he hath mistaken the question. For whereas he says thus, _If I be
free to write this Discourse, I have obtained the cause_: I deny
that to be true, for it is enough to his freedom of writing, that he
had not written it, unless he would himself. If he will obtain the
cause, he must prove that before he writ it, it was not necessary he
should prove it afterward. It may be his Lordship thinks it all one
to say, _I was free_ to write it, and, _It was not necessary_ I
should write it. But I think otherwise. For he is _free_ to do a
thing, that may do it if he have the will to do it, and may forbear,
if he have the will to forbear. And yet if there be a _necessity_
that he shall have the _will_ to do it, the action is necessarily to
follow: and if there be a _necessity_ that he shall have the _will_
to forbear, the forbearing also will be necessary. The question
therefore is not, whether a man be a _free agent_, that is to say,
whether he can write or forbear, speak or be silent, according to
his _will_; but, whether the _will_ to write, and the _will_ to
forbear, come upon him according to his _will_, or according to
anything else in his own power. I acknowledge this _liberty_, that I
_can_ do if I _will_; but to say, I can _will_ if I _will_, I take
to be an absurd speech. Wherefore I cannot grant my Lord the cause
upon his _preface_.
In the next place, he maketh certain distinctions of _liberty_, and
says he meaneth not _liberty_ from sin, nor from _servitude_, nor
from _violence_; but, from _necessity_, _necessitation_,
_inevitability_, and _determination to one_.
It had been better to _define_ liberty, than thus to _distinguish_.
For I understand never the more what he means by _liberty_; and
though he say he means _liberty_ from _necessitation_, yet I
understand not how such a _liberty_ can be, and it is a taking of
the question without proof. For what is else the question between
us, but whether _such_ a liberty be possible or not?
There are in the same place other distinctions: as a liberty of
_exercise only_, which he calls a _liberty of contradiction_, namely
of doing not good, or evil _simply_, but of doing this or that good,
or this or that evil _respectively_, and a _liberty of specification
and exercise also_, which he calls a liberty of _contrariety_,
namely a liberty not only to do good or evil, but also to do or not
do this or that good or evil.
And with these _distinctions_ his Lordship says he _clears the
coast_, whereas in truth, he darkeneth his own meaning and
the question, not only with the jargon of _exercise only_,
_specification also_, _contradiction_, _contrariety_, but also with
pretending distinction where none is: for how is it possible that
the _liberty_ of doing or not doing this or that good or evil, can
consist, as he says it does in God and good angels, without a
liberty of doing or not doing good or evil?
The next thing his Lordship does, after clearing of the coast, is
the dividing of his forces, as he calls them, into _two_ squadrons,
_one_ of places _of Scriptures_, the _other_ of _reasons_, which
allegory he useth, I suppose, because he addresseth the discourse to
your Lordship, who is a military man. All that I have to say
touching this, is, that I observe a great part of those his _forces_
do look and _march_ another way, and some of them _fight_ amongst
themselves.
And the first place of _Scripture_, taken from Numb. xxx. 13, is one
of those that look another way; the words are, _If a wife make a
vow, it is left to her husband’s choice either to establish it or
make it void_. For it proves no more but that the husband is a
_free_ and _voluntary agent_, but not that his _choice_ therein is
not _necessitated_ or not _determined_ to what he shall choose, by
precedent _necessary_ causes.
For if there come into the husband’s mind greater good by
establishing than abrogating such a vow, the establishing will
follow necessarily; and if the evil that will follow in the
husband’s opinion outweigh the good, the contrary must needs follow:
and yet in this following of one’s _hopes_ and _fears_, consisteth
the nature of _election_. So that a man may both choose this, and
cannot but choose this, and consequently _choosing_ and _necessity_
are joined together.
The second place of Scripture is Joshua, xxiv. 15. The third is 2
Sam. xxiv. 12, whereby it is clearly proved, that there is
_election_ in _man_, but not proved that such _election_ was not
_necessitated_ by the _hopes_, and _fears_, and considerations of
_good_ and _bad_ to follow, which depend not on the _will_, nor are
subject to _election_. And therefore one answer serves all such
places, if there were a thousand.
But his Lordship supposing, it seems, I might answer, as I have
done, that _necessity_ and _election_ might stand together, and
instance in the actions of _children_, _fools_, or _brute beasts_,
whose _fancies_, I might say, are _necessitated_ and _determined_ to
_one_; before these his proofs out of Scripture, desires to prevent
that instance, and therefore says that the actions of _children_,
_fools_, _madmen_, and _beasts_, are indeed _determined_, but that
they proceed not from _election_, nor from _free_, but from
_spontaneous agents_. As for example, that the _bee_, when it maketh
honey, does it _spontaneously_; and when the _spider_ makes his web,
he does it _spontaneously_, but not by _election_.
Though I never meant to ground my answer upon the experience of what
_children_, _fools_, _madmen_, and _beasts_ do; yet that your
Lordship may understand what can be meant by _spontaneous_, and how
it differeth from _voluntary_, I will answer that _distinction_, and
show that it _fighteth_ against its fellow arguments.
Your Lordship therefore is to consider, that all _voluntary_
actions, where the thing that induceth the _will_ is not _fear_, are
called also _spontaneous_, and said to be done by a man’s _own_
accord. As when a man giveth money voluntarily to another for
merchandise, or out of affection, he is said to do it of his own
accord, which in Latin is _sponte_, and therefore the action is
_spontaneous_; though to give one’s money willingly to a thief to
avoid killing, or throw it into the sea to avoid drowning, where the
motive is _fear_, be not called _spontaneous_. But every
_spontaneous_ action is not therefore _voluntary_, for _voluntary_
presupposes some precedent _deliberation_, that is to say, some
_consideration_, and _meditation_, of what is likely to _follow_,
both upon the doing, and abstaining from the action deliberated of;
whereas many actions are done of our _own_ accord, and are therefore
_spontaneous_, for which nevertheless, as my Lord thinks, we never
_consulted_ nor _deliberated_ in ourselves. As when making no
question nor any the least doubt in the world, but the thing we are
about is good, we _eat_ and _walk_, or in anger _strike_ or
_revile_, which my Lord thinks spontaneous, but not voluntary nor
elective actions, and with _such_ kind of actions, he says
_necessitation_ may stand, but not with such as are _voluntary_, and
proceed upon _election_ and _deliberation_. Now if I make it appear
to your Lordship, that those actions, which, he says, proceed from
_spontaneity_, and which he ascribes to _children_, _fools_,
_madmen_, and _beasts_, proceed from _election_ and _deliberation_,
and that actions _inconsiderate_, _rash_, and _spontaneous_, are
ordinarily found in those, that are by themselves and many more
thought as _wise_, or wiser than ordinarily men are, then my Lord
Bishop’s argument concludeth, that _necessity_ and _election_ may
stand together, which is contrary to that which he intendeth by all
the rest of his arguments to prove.
And first your Lordship’s own experience furnishes you with proof
enough, that _horses_, _dogs_, and other brute _beasts_, do _demur_
oftentimes upon the way they are to take, the horse retiring from
some strange figure that he sees, and coming on again to avoid the
spur. And what else doth a man that _deliberateth_, but one while
_proceed_ toward action, another while _retire_ from it, as the
_hope_ of greater _good_ draws him, or the _fear_ of greater evil
_drives_ him away.
A _child_ may be so young as to do what it does without all
_deliberation_, but that is but till it have the chance to be hurt
by doing of somewhat, or till it be of age to understand the rod:
for the actions, wherein he hath once had a check, shall be
_deliberated_ on the second time.
_Fools_ and _madmen_ manifestly _deliberate_ no less than the
_wisest_ men, though they make not so good a _choice_, the images of
things being by disease altered.
For _bees_ and _spiders_, if my Lord Bishop had had so little to do
as to be a spectator of their actions, he would have confessed not
only _election_, but _art_, _prudence_, and _policy_, in them, very
near equal to that of mankind. Of _bees_, Aristotle says, _their
life is civil_.
Again, his Lordship is deceived, if he think any _spontaneous_
action, after once being checked in it, differs from an action
_voluntary_ and _elective_: for even the setting of a man’s foot, in
the posture for _walking_, and the action of ordinary _eating_, was
once _deliberated_ of how and when it should be done, and though
afterward it became _easy_ and _habitual_, so as to be done without
_forethought_; yet that does not hinder but that the act is
_voluntary_, and proceedeth from _election_. So also are the
_rashest_ actions of _choleric_ persons _voluntary_ and upon
_deliberation_: for who is there but very young children, that hath
not _considered_ when and how far he _ought_, or safely _may_ strike
or revile? Seeing then his Lordship agrees with me, that such
actions are _necessitated_, and the _fancy_ of those that do them
_determined_ to the action they do, it follows out of his Lordship’s
own doctrine, that the liberty of _election_ does not take away the
_necessity_ of _electing_ this or that _individual_ thing. And thus
one of his arguments fights against another.
The second argument from Scripture, consisteth in histories of men
that did one thing, when if they would, they might have done
another; the places are two: one is 1 Kings iii. 10, where the
history says, God was pleased that Solomon, who might, if he would,
have asked _riches_, or _revenge_, did nevertheless ask _wisdom_ at
God’s hands: the other is the words of St. Peter to Ananias, Acts v.
4: _After it was sold, was it not in thine own power?_
To which the answer is the same with that I answered to the former
places, that they prove there is _election_, but do not disprove the
_necessity_, which I maintain, of what they so elect.
The fourth argument (for to the third and fifth I shall make but one
answer) is to this effect; _If the decrees of God, or his
foreknowledge, or the influence of the stars, or the concatenation
of causes, or the physical or moral efficacy of causes, or the last
dictate of the understanding, or whatsoever it be, do take away true
liberty, then Adam before his fall had no true liberty. Quicquid
ostendes mihi sic incredulus odi._
_That_ which I say _necessitateth and determinateth every action_,
that his Lordship may no longer doubt of my meaning, _is the sum of
all things, which being now existent, conduce and concur to the
production of that action hereafter, whereof if any one thing now
were wanting, the effect could not be produced_. This _concourse_ of
_causes_, whereof every one is _determined_ to be such as it is by a
like concourse of _former_ causes, may well be called (in respect
they were all set and ordered by the eternal cause of all things,
God Almighty) the _decree_ of God.
But that the _foreknowledge_ of God should be a cause of any thing,
cannot be truly said, seeing foreknowledge is knowledge, and
knowledge depends on the existence of the things known, and not they
on it.
The _influence of the stars_ is but a small part of the whole cause,
consisting of the concourse of all agents.
Nor does the _concourse of all causes_ make one simple _chain_ or
concatenation, but an innumerable number of chains, joined together,
not in all parts, but in the first link God Almighty; and
consequently the whole cause of an event, doth not always depend on
one single chain, but on many together.
_Natural_ efficacy of _objects_ does _determine voluntary_ agents,
and _necessitates_ the _will_, and consequently the _action_; but
for _moral_ efficacy, I understand not what he means.
_The last dictate of the judgment_, concerning the good or bad, that
may follow on any action, is not properly the _whole cause_, but the
last part of it, and yet may be said to produce the effect
_necessarily_, in such manner as the last feather may be said to
break a horse’s back, when there were so many laid on before as
there wanted but that one to do it.
Now for his _argument_, that _if the concourse of all the causes
necessitate the effect, that then it follows, Adam had no true
liberty_: I deny the consequence; for I make not only the _effect_,
but also the _election_, of that particular effect _necessary_,
inasmuch as the will itself, and each propension of a man during his
deliberation, is as much necessitated, and depends on a sufficient
cause, as any thing else whatsoever. As for example, it is no more
necessary that fire should burn, than that a man or other creature,
whose limbs be moved by fancy, should have _election_, that is
_liberty_, to do what he hath a fancy to do, though it be not in his
_will_ or _power_ to _choose_ his _fancy_, or choose his _election_
and _will_.
This doctrine, because my Lord Bishop says he hates, I doubt had
better been suppressed, as it should have been, if both your
Lordship and he had not pressed me to an answer.
The arguments of greatest consequence, are the third and the fifth,
and they fall both into one, namely: _If there be a necessity of all
events, that it will follow, that praise and reprehension, and
reward and punishment, are all vain and unjust; and that if God
should openly forbid, and secretly necessitate the same action,
punishing men for what they could not avoid, there would be no
belief among them of heaven and hell_.
To oppose hereunto I must borrow an answer from St. Paul, Rom. ix.
20, 21. From the eleventh verse of the chapter to the eighteenth, is
laid down the very same objection in these words: _When they_,
meaning Esau and Jacob, _were yet unborn, and had done neither good
nor evil, that the purpose of God according to election, not by
works, but by him that calleth, might remain firm, it was said unto
her_ (_viz._ Rebecca) _that the elder should serve the younger_, &c.
_What then shall we say? Is there injustice with God? God forbid. It
is not therefore in him that willeth, nor in him that runneth, but
in God that showeth mercy. For the Scripture saith to Pharaoh, I
have stirred thee up that I might show my power in thee, and that my
name might be set forth in all the earth. Therefore whom God
willeth, he hath mercy on, and whom he willeth he hardeneth._ Thus
you see the case put by St. Paul, is the same with that of my Lord
Bishop, and the same objection in these words following:
_Thou wilt ask me then, why does God yet complain, for who hath
resisted his will?_
To this therefore the Apostle answers, not by denying it was God’s
_will_, or that the decree of God concerning Esau was not before he
had sinned, or that Esau was not necessitated to do what he did; but
thus: _Who art thou, O man, that interrogatest God? Shall the work
say to the workman, why hast thou made me thus? Hath not the potter
power over the clay, of the same stuff to make one vessel to honour,
another to dishonour?_ According therefore to this answer of St.
Paul, I answer my Lord’s objection, and say, the _power_ of God
alone without other helps is sufficient _justification_ of any
action he doth. That which men make amongst themselves here by pacts
and covenants, and call by the name of justice, and according
whereunto men are accounted and termed rightly _just_ or _unjust_,
is not that by which God Almighty’s actions are to be measured or
called just, no more than his counsels are to be measured by human
wisdom. That which he does, is made just by his doing it; just, I
say, in him, though not always just in us.
For a man that shall command a thing openly, and plot secretly the
hindrance of the same, if he punish him that he so commandeth, for
not doing it, it is unjust. So also, his counsels are therefore not
in vain, because they be his, whether we see the use of them or not.
When God afflicted Job, he did object no sin unto him, but justified
his afflicting of him, by telling him of his _power_: (Job xl. 9:)
_Hast thou, saith God, an arm like mine?_ (Job xxviii. 4): _Where
wert thou when I laid the foundations of the earth?_ and the like.
So our Saviour, (John ix. 3) concerning the man that was born blind,
said, it was not for his sin, or for his parents' sin, but that the
power of God might be shown in him. _Beasts_ are subject to death
and torments, yet they cannot sin: it was God’s will they should be
so. _Power irresistible justifies all actions, really and properly_,
in whomsoever it be found; less power does not, and because such
power is in God only, he must needs be just in all actions, and we,
that not comprehending his counsels, call him to the bar, commit
injustice in it.
I am not ignorant of the usual reply to his answer, by
distinguishing between _will_ and _permission_, as that God Almighty
does indeed sometimes _permit_ sins, and that he also foreknoweth
that the sin he permitteth, shall be committed, but does not _will_
it, nor _necessitate_ it.
I know also they distinguish the action from the sin of the action,
saying, that God Almighty does indeed cause the _action_, whatsoever
action it be, but not the _sinfulness_ or _irregularity_ of it, that
is, the _discordance_ between the _action_ and the _law_. Such
distinctions as these dazzle my understanding; I find no difference
between the _will_ to have a thing done, and the _permission_ to do
it, when he that permitteth can hinder it, and knows that it will be
done unless he hinder it. Nor find I any difference between an
_action_ and the _sin_ of that action; as for example, between the
killing of Uriah, and the sin of David in killing Uriah, nor when
_one_ is _cause_ both of the _action_ and of the _law_, how
_another_ can be cause of the _disagreement_ between them, no more
than how one man making a longer and a shorter garment, another can
make the inequality that is between them. This I know; God cannot
sin, because his doing a thing makes it just, and consequently, no
sin; as also because whatsoever can sin, is subject to another’s
law, which God is not. And therefore it is blasphemy to say, God can
sin; but to say, that God can so order the world, as a sin may be
necessarily caused thereby in a man, I do not see how it is any
dishonour to him. Howsoever, if such or other _distinctions_ can
make it clear, that St. Paul did not think Esau’s or Pharaoh’s
actions proceeded from the _will_ and _purpose_ of God, or that
proceeding from his will, could not therefore without injustice be
blamed or punished, I will, as soon as I understand them, turn unto
my Lord’s opinion: for I now hold nothing in all this question
betwixt us, but what seemeth to me, not obscurely, but most
expressly said in this place by St. Paul. And thus much in answer to
his places of Scripture.
-------
TO THE ARGUMENTS FROM REASON.
Of the arguments from _reason_, the first is that which his Lordship
saith is drawn from Zeno’s beating of his man, which is therefore
called _argumentum baculinum_, that is to say, a wooden argument.
The story is this; Zeno held, that all actions were necessary; his
man therefore being for some fault beaten, excused himself upon the
necessity of it: to avoid this excuse, his master pleaded likewise
the necessity of beating him. So that not he that maintained, but he
that derided the necessity, was beaten, contrary to that his
Lordship would infer. And the argument was rather withdrawn than
drawn from the story.
The second argument is taken from certain inconveniences which his
Lordship thinks would follow such an opinion. It is true that ill
use might be made of it, and therefore your Lordship and my Lord
Bishop ought, at my request, to keep private what I say here of it.
But the inconveniences are indeed none, and what use soever be made
of truth, yet truth is truth, and now the question is not, what is
fit to be preached, but, what is true.
The first inconvenience he says, is this; _That the laws, which
prohibit any action, will be unjust_.
2. _That all consultations are vain._
3. _That admonitions to men of understanding, are of no more use,
than to children, fools, and madmen._
4. _That, praise, dispraise, reward and punishment, are in vain._
5, 6. _That counsels, acts, arms, books, instruments, study, tutors,
medicines, are in vain._
To which arguments his Lordship expecting I should answer, by
saying, the ignorance of the event were enough to make us use the
means, adds, as it were a reply to my answer foreseen, these words:
_Alas! how should our not knowing the event be a sufficient motive
to make us use the means?_ Wherein his Lordship says right, but my
answer is not that which he expecteth: I answer,
First, that the _necessity_ of an _action_ doth not make the _laws_,
that prohibit it, _unjust_. To let pass, that not the _necessity_,
but the _will_ to break the _law_, maketh the action _unjust_,
because the _law_ regardeth the _will_, and no other precedent
causes of action. And to let pass, that no _law_ can possibly be
_unjust_, inasmuch as every man maketh, by his consent, the law he
is bound to keep, and which consequently must be just, unless a man
can be unjust to himself. I say, what _necessary_ cause soever
precede an _action_, yet if the action be _forbidden_, he that doth
it _willingly_ may justly be punished. For instance, suppose the law
on pain of death prohibit stealing, and that there be a man, who by
the strength of temptation is _necessitated_ to steal, and is
thereupon put to death, does not this punishment deter others from
theft? Is it not a cause that others steal not? Doth it not frame
and make their wills to justice?
To make the _law_, is therefore to make a _cause_ of _justice_, and
to _necessitate_ justice; and consequently, it is no injustice to
make such a law.
The intention of the _law_ is not to grieve the _delinquent_, for
that which is past, and not to be undone; but to make him and others
_just_, that else would not be so, and respecteth not the evil act
_past_, but the _good to come_; insomuch as without the good
intention for the future, no past act of a delinquent could justify
his killing in the sight of God. But you will say, how is it just to
kill one man to amend another, if what were done were _necessary_?
To this I answer, that men are justly killed, not for that their
_actions_ are not _necessitated_, but because they are _noxious_,
and they are spared and preserved whose actions are not noxious. For
where there is no law, there no killing nor anything else can be
unjust; and by the right of nature, we destroy, without being
unjust, all that is noxious, both beasts and men; and for beasts we
kill them justly, when we do it in order to our own preservation,
and yet my Lord himself confesseth, that their actions, as being
only _spontaneous_, and not _free_, are all _necessitated_ and
determined to that one thing they shall do. For men, when we make
societies or commonwealths, we lay not down our right to kill,
excepting in certain cases, as murder, theft or other offensive
action; so that the right, which the _commonwealth_ hath to put a
man to death for crimes, is not created by the _law_, but remains
from the first right of _nature_, which every man hath to preserve
himself; for that the law doth not take the right away in the case
of criminals, who were by the law excepted. Men are not therefore
put to death, or punished, for that their theft proceedeth from
_election_; but because it was _noxious_ and contrary to men’s
preservation, and the punishment conducing to the preservation of
the rest, inasmuch as to punish those that do voluntary hurt, and
none else, frameth and maketh men’s _wills_ such as men would have
them. And thus it is plain, that from the _necessity_ of a
_voluntary_ action, cannot be inferred the _injustice_ of the _law_
that forbiddeth it, or the magistrate that punisheth it.
Secondly, I deny that it maketh _consultations_ to be in _vain_; it
is the _consultation_ that _causeth_ a man, and _necessitateth_ him
to _choose_ to do one thing rather than another: so that unless a
man say that that cause is in vain which necessitateth the effect,
he cannot infer the superfluousness of consultation out of the
necessity of the election proceeding from it. But it seemeth his
Lordship reasons thus: If I must do this rather than that, I shall
do this rather than that, though I consult not at all; which is a
false proposition and a false consequence, and no better than this:
If I shall live till to-morrow, I shall live till to-morrow, though
I run myself through with a sword to-day. If there be a _necessity_
that an action shall be done, or that any effect shall be brought to
pass, it does not therefore follow, that there is nothing
necessarily requisite as a means to bring it to pass; and therefore
when it is determined, that one thing shall be chosen before
another, it is determined also for what _cause_ it shall so be
chosen, which cause, for the most part, is _deliberation_ or
_consultation_, and therefore consultation is not in vain, and
indeed the less in vain by how much the election is more
necessitated, if _more_ and _less_ had any place in _necessity_.
The same answer is to be given to the third supposed inconvenience,
namely, that _admonitions_ are in _vain_; for the admonitions are
parts of consultation, the admonitor being a counsellor for the time
to him that is admonished.
The fourth pretended inconvenience is, that _praise_, _dispraise_,
_reward_, and _punishment_ will be in _vain_. To which I answer,
that for _praise_ and _dispraise_, they depend not at all on the
_necessity_ of the action praised or dispraised. For what is it else
to _praise_, but to say a thing is good? Good, I say, for me, or for
somebody else, or for the state and commonwealth? And what is it to
say an action is good, but to say it is as I would wish? or as
another would have it, or according to the will of the state? that
is to say, according to the law. Does my Lord think that no action
can please me, or him, or the commonwealth, that should proceed from
_necessity_? Things may be therefore _necessary_, and yet
_praise-worthy_, as also _necessary_, and yet _dispraised_, and
neither of them both in vain, because _praise_ and _dispraise_, and
likewise _reward_ and _punishment_, do by example make and conform
the will to good and evil. It was a very great praise in my opinion,
that Velleius Paterculus (Lib. ii. 35) gives Cato, where he says
that he was good by _nature_, _et quia aliter esse non potuit_.
To the fifth and sixth inconveniences, that _counsels_, _arts_,
_arms_, _instruments_, _books_, _study_, _medicines_, and the like,
would be _superfluous_, the same answer serves as to the former,
that is to say, that this consequence, _if the effect shall
necessarily come to pass, then it shall come to pass without its
causes_, is a false one, and those things named counsels, arts,
arms, &c. are the causes of these effects.
His Lordship’s _third_ argument consisteth in other
_inconveniences_, which he saith will follow, namely, _impiety_ and
_negligence_ of religious duties, as repentance, and _zeal_ to God’s
service, &c.
To which I answer as to the rest, that they follow not. I must
confess, if we consider the greatest part of mankind, not as they
should be, but as they are, that is, as men, whom either the study
of acquiring wealth, or preferment, or whom the appetite of sensual
delights, or the impatience of meditating, or the rash embracing of
wrong principles, have made unapt to discuss the truth of things: I
must, I say, confess that the dispute of this question will rather
hurt than help their piety; and therefore if his Lordship had not
desired this answer, I should not have written it, nor do I write it
but in hopes your Lordship and his will keep it private.
Nevertheless in very truth, the _necessity_ of events does not of
itself draw with it any _impiety_ at all. For _piety_ consisteth
only in _two_ things; one, that we honour God in our hearts, which
is, that we think as highly of his _power_ as we can, for to honour
anything is nothing else but to think it to be of great power; the
other is, that we signify that honour and esteem by our words and
actions, which is called _cultus_, or _worship of God_. He therefore
that thinketh that all things proceed from God’s _eternal will_, and
consequently are _necessary_, does he not think God _omnipotent_?
Does he not esteem of his _power_ as highly as is possible? which is
to honour God as much as may be in his heart. Again, he that
thinketh so, is he not more apt by _external_ acts and words to
acknowledge it, than he that thinketh otherwise? yet is this
external acknowledgment the same thing which we call _worship_. So
that this opinion fortifies _piety_ in both kinds, external and
internal; therefore is far from destroying it. And for _repentance_,
which is nothing else but a glad returning into the right way, after
the grief of being out of the way; though the cause that made him go
astray were necessary, yet there is no reason why he should not
grieve; and, again though the cause why he returned into the way
were necessary, there remained still the causes of joy. So that the
_necessity_ of the actions taketh away neither of those parts of
_repentance_, grief for the error, and joy for returning.
And for _prayer_, whereas he saith that the _necessity_ of things
destroy _prayer_, I deny it; for though _prayer_ be none of the
_causes_ that _move_ God’s _will_, his will being unchangeable, yet
since we find in God’s word, he will not give his blessings but to
those that ask, the motive of prayer is the same. _Prayer_ is the
gift of God no less than the _blessing_, and the prayer is decreed
together in the same decree wherein the blessing is decreed. It is
manifest that _thanksgiving_ is no cause of the blessing past, and
that which is past is sure and necessary, yet even amongst men
thanks is in use as an acknowledgment of the benefit past, though we
should expect no new benefit for our gratitude. And prayer to God
Almighty is but thanksgiving for God’s blessings in general, and
though it precede the particular thing we ask, yet it is not a cause
or means of it, but a signification that we expect nothing but from
God, in such manner, as he, not as we, will; and our Saviour by word
of mouth bids us pray, _thy will_, not our will, _be done_, and by
example teaches us the same; for he prayed thus, _Father if it be
thy will, let this cup pass_, &c. The end of prayer, as of
thanksgiving, is not to _move_ but to _honour_ God Almighty, in
acknowledging that what we ask can be effected by him only.
_The fourth argument from reason is this: the order, beauty, and
perfection of the world requireth that in the universe should be
agents of all sorts; some necessary, some free, some contingent. He
that shall make all things necessary, or all things free, or all
things contingent, doth overthrow the beauty and perfection of the
world._
In which argument I observe, first a _contradiction_; for seeing he
that _maketh_ anything, in that he maketh it, maketh it to be
_necessary_; it followeth that he that maketh all things, maketh all
things necessarily to be: as if a workman make a garment, the
garment must necessarily be; so if God make every thing, every thing
must necessarily be. Perhaps the beauty of the world requireth,
though we know it not, that some agents should work without
deliberation (which his lordship calls _necessary_ agents) and some
agents with deliberation (and those both he and I call _free_
agents) and that some agents should work, and we not know how (and
their effects we both call _contingents_); but this hinders not but
that he that electeth may have his _election_ necessarily determined
to _one_ by _former_ causes, and that which is _contingent_, and
imputed to fortune, be nevertheless _necessary_ and depend on
_precedent_ necessary causes. For by _contingent_, men do not mean
that which hath _no_ cause, but that which hath not for cause
anything that we perceive; as for example, when a traveller meets
with a shower, the journey had a cause, and the rain had a cause
sufficient to produce it; but because the journey caused not the
rain, nor the rain the journey, we say they were contingent one to
another. And thus you see that though there be three sorts of
events, _necessary_, _contingent_, and _free_, yet they may be _all_
necessary without destruction of the beauty or perfection of the
universe.
To the first argument from reason, which is, _That if liberty be
taken away, the nature and formal reason of sin is taken away_; I
answer by denying the consequence: the nature of sin consisteth in
this, that the _action_ done proceed from our _will_ and be against
the _law_. A judge in judging whether it be sin or no, which is done
against the law, looks at no higher cause of the action, than the
will of the doer. Now when I say the action was _necessary_, I do
not say it was done _against_ the will of the doer, but _with_ his
will, and _necessarily_, because man’s will, that is every volition
or act of the will and purpose of man had a _sufficient_, and
therefore a _necessary_ cause, and consequently every _voluntary_
action was _necessitated_. An action therefore may be _voluntary_
and a _sin_, and nevertheless be _necessary_; and because God may
afflict by a right derived from his _omnipotence_, though sin were
not, and because the example of punishment on voluntary sinners, is
the cause that produceth justice, and maketh sin less frequent, for
God to punish such sinners, as I have said before, is no injustice.
And thus you have my answer to his Lordship’s objections both out of
Scripture, and from reason.
-------
CERTAIN DISTINCTIONS, WHICH HIS LORDSHIP SUPPOSING
MIGHT BE BROUGHT TO EVADE HIS
ARGUMENTS, ARE BY HIM REMOVED.
He says a man may perhaps answer, that the _necessity_ of things
held by him, is not a _stoical_ necessity, but a _Christian_
necessity, &c. But this _distinction_ I have not used, nor indeed
ever heard before, nor could I think any man could make _stoical_
and _Christian_ two kinds of _necessity_, though they may be two
kinds of _doctrine_. Nor have I drawn my answer to his Lordship’s
arguments from the authority of any sect, but from the nature of the
things themselves.
But here I must take notice of certain words of his Lordship’s in
this place, as making against his own tenet. _Where all the causes_,
saith he, _being joined together, and subordinate one to another, do
make but one total cause, if any one cause, much more the first, in
the whole series or subordination of causes, be necessary, it
determines the rest, and without doubt maketh the effect necessary_.
For that which I call the _necessary_ cause of any effect, is the
_joining_ together of all causes subordinate to the first, into one
total cause. _If any of these_, saith he, _especially the first,
produce its effect necessarily, then all the rest_ are determined.
Now it is manifest, that the first cause is a necessary cause of all
the effects that are next and immediate to it, and therefore by his
Lordship’s own reason all effects are necessary.
Nor is that distinction of necessary in respect of the _first
cause_, and necessary in respect of _second causes_, mine; it does,
as his Lordship well notes, imply a contradiction. But the
distinction of _free_ into _free from compulsion_, and _free from
necessitation_, I acknowledge. For to be _free from compulsion_ is
to do a thing so as _terror_ be not the cause of his _will_ to do
it; for a man is then only said to be compelled, when fear makes him
willing to it: as when a man willingly throws his goods into the sea
to save himself, or submits to his enemy for fear of being killed.
Thus all men that do anything for _love_, or _revenge_, or _lust_,
are _free from compulsion_, and yet their actions may be as
necessary as those that are done by compulsion; for sometimes other
passions work as forcibly as fear. But _free from necessitation_, I
say, no man can be, and it is that which his Lordship undertook to
disprove.
This _distinction_, his Lordship says, uses to be _fortified_ by two
reasons, but they are not mine. The first he says, is, that it is
granted by all divines, that an _hypothetical necessity_, or
necessity upon supposition, may stand with _liberty_. That you may
understand this, I will give you an example of _hypothetical
necessity_. If _I shall live, I shall eat_. This is an _hypothetical
necessity_. Indeed it is a necessary proposition, that is to say, it
is necessary that that proposition should be true whensoever
uttered, but it is not the necessity of the thing, nor is it
therefore necessary that the man should live, nor that the man
should eat. I do not use to _fortify_ my distinctions with such
reasons; let his Lordship confute them how he will, it contents me;
but I would have your Lordship take notice hereby, how easy and
plain a thing, but withal false, with the grave usage of such terms
as _hypothetical necessity_, and _necessity_ upon _supposition_, and
such like terms of Schoolmen, may be obscured and made to seem
_profound learning_.
The second reason that may confirm the distinction of _free from
compulsion_, and _free from necessitation_, he says is, that God and
good angels do good necessarily, and yet are more free than we. This
reason, though I had no need of, yet I think it so far forth good,
as it is true that God and good angels do good necessarily, and yet
are free; but because I find not in the articles of our faith, nor
in the decrees of our church, set down in what manner I am to
conceive God and good angels to work by necessity, or in what sense
they work _freely_, I suspend my sentence in that point, and am
content that there be a _freedom from compulsion_, and yet no
_freedom from necessitation_, as hath been proved, in that a man may
be necessitated to some action without threats and without fear of
danger. But how my Lord can avoid the consisting together of
_freedom_ and _necessity_, supposing God and good angels are freer
than men, and yet do good necessarily, that we must examine: _I
confess_, saith he, _that God and good angels are more free than we,
that is, intensively in degree of freedom, not extensively in the
latitude of the object, according to a liberty of exercise not of
specification_.
Again, we have here two distinctions that are no distinctions, but
made to seem so by terms invented by I know not whom to cover
ignorance, and blind the understanding of the reader: for it cannot
be conceived that there is any liberty greater, than for a man to do
what he will. One heat may be more intensive than another, but not
one liberty than another; he that can do what he will, hath all
liberty possible, and he that cannot, hath none at all. Also
_liberty_, as his Lordship says the Schools call it, of _exercise_,
which is as I have said before, a liberty to do or not to do, cannot
be without a _liberty_, which they call, of _specification_, that is
to say, a liberty to do, or not to do this or that in particular.
For how can a man conceive he hath liberty to do anything, that hath
not liberty to do this, or that, or somewhat in particular? If a man
be forbidden in Lent to eat this, and that, and every other
particular kind of flesh, how can he be understood to have a liberty
to eat flesh, more than he that hath no licence at all? You may by
this again see the vanity of distinctions used in the _Schools_, and
I do not doubt but that the imposing of them, by authority of
_doctors_ in the _Church_, hath been a great cause that men have
laboured, though by sedition and evil courses, to shake them off;
for nothing is more apt to beget hatred, than the tyrannizing over
men’s reason and understanding, especially when it is done, not by
the Scriptures, but by the pretence of learning, and more judgment
than that of other men.
In the next place his Lordship bringeth two arguments against
distinguishing between _free from compulsion_ and _free from
necessitation_.
The first is, that _election_ is opposite not only to _coaction_ or
_compulsion_, but also _necessitation_ or determination to one. This
is it he was to prove from the beginning, and therefore bringeth no
new argument to prove it; and to those brought formerly, I have
already answered. And in this place I deny again, that election is
opposite to either; for when a man is compelled, for example, to
subject himself to an enemy or to die, he hath still election left
him, and a deliberation to bethink which of the two he can better
endure. And he that is led to prison by force, hath election, and
may deliberate whether he will be hauled and trained on the ground,
or make use of his own feet: likewise when there is no _compulsion_,
but the strength of _temptation_ to do an evil action, being greater
than the motives to _abstain_, it necessarily determines him to the
doing of it; yet he deliberates while sometimes the motives to do,
sometimes the motives to forbear, are working on him, and
consequently he _electeth_ which he will. But commonly when we see
and know the strength that moves us, we acknowledge _necessity_; but
when we see not, or mark not the force that moves us, we then think
there is none, and that it is not _causes_ but _liberty_ that
produceth the action. Hence it is that they think he does not choose
this, that of necessity chooses it; but they might as well say, fire
doth not burn, because it burns of necessity.
The second argument is not so much an argument as a distinction, to
show in what sense it may be said that _voluntary_ actions are
_necessitated_, and in what sense not. And therefore his Lordship
allegeth, as from the authority of the _Schools_, and that which
rippeth up the bottom of the _question_, that there is a double act
of the _will_. The one, he says, is _actus imperatus_, an act done
at the command of the will, by some inferior faculty of the soul; as
to open or shut one’s eyes; and this act may be compelled: the
other, he says, is _actus elicitus_, an act allured or drawn forth
by allurement out of the will, as to _will_, to _choose_, to
_elect_; this he says cannot be compelled. Wherein, letting pass
that metaphorical speech of attributing command and subjection to
the faculties of the soul, as if they made a commonwealth or family
within themselves, and could speak one to another, which is very
improper in searching the truth of a question, you may observe,
first, that to compel a _voluntary_ act, is nothing else but to will
it; for it is all one to say, my will commands the shutting of my
eyes, or the doing of any other action; and to say, I have the will
to shut my eyes: so that _actus imperatus_, here, might as easily
have been said in English a _voluntary action_, but that they that
invented the term, understood not anything it signified.
Secondly, you may observe, that _actus elicitus_, is exemplified by
these words, to _will_, to _elect_, to _choose_, which are all one,
and so to will is here made an act of the will; and indeed as the
will is a faculty or power in a man’s soul, so to will is an act of
it according to that power; but as it is absurdly said, that to
dance is an act allured or drawn by fair means out of the ability to
dance; so is it also to say, that to will is an act allured or drawn
out of the power to will, which power is commonly called the will.
Howsoever it be, the sum of his Lordship’s distinction is, that a
_voluntary_ act may be done by _compulsion_, that is to say, by foul
means, but to will that, or any act, cannot be but by _allurement_,
or fair means. Now seeing fair means, allurements, and enticements,
produce the action which they do produce, as _necessarily_ as foul
means and threatening; it follows, that to _will_ may be made as
_necessary_ as anything that is done by _compulsion_. So that
distinction of _actus imperatus_ and _actus elicitus_ are but words,
and of no effect against necessity.
His Lordship in the rest of his discourse, reckoneth up the opinion
of certain professions of men, touching the causes wherein the
necessity of things, which they maintain, consisteth. And first he
saith, the _astrologer_ deriveth his _necessity_ from the _stars_;
secondly, that the _physician_ attributeth it to the _temper_ of the
body. For my part, I am not of their opinion, because, neither the
stars alone, nor the temperature of the patient alone, is able to
produce any effect, without the concurrence of all other agents. For
there is hardly any one action, how casual soever it seem, to the
causing whereof concur not whatsoever is _in rerum naturâ_, which
because it is a great paradox, and depends on many antecedent
speculations, I do not press in this place. Thirdly, he disputeth
against the opinion of them that say, _external objects_ presented
to men of such and such temperatures, do make their actions
_necessary_; and says, the power such objections have over us,
proceeds from our own fault: but that is nothing to the purpose, if
such fault of ours proceedeth from causes not in our own power, and
therefore that opinion may hold true for all that answer.
Further he says, _prayer_, _fasting_, &c. may alter our _habits_;
it is true, but when they do so, they are _causes_ of the contrary
_habit_, and make it _necessary_, as the former habit had been
necessary, if _prayer_, _fasting_, &c. had not been. Besides, we
are not moved or disposed to prayer or any other action, but by
outward objects, as pious company, godly preachers, or something
equivalent. Fourthly, he says a resolved mind is not easily
surprised, as the mind of Ulysses, who when others wept, alone
wept not; and of the philosopher, that abstained from striking,
because he found himself angry; and of him that poured out the
water when he was thirsty, and the like. Such things I confess
have, or may have been done, and do prove only that it was not
necessary for Ulysses then to weep, nor for that philosopher to
strike, nor for that other man to drink; but it does not prove
that it was not necessary for Ulysses then to abstain, as he did,
from weeping, nor for the philosopher to abstain, as he did, from
striking, nor for the other man to forbear drinking, and yet that
was the thing his Lordship ought to have proved. Lastly his
Lordship confesses, that the _dispositions_ of objects may be
_dangerous_ to _liberty_, but cannot be _destructive_. To which I
answer, it is impossible: for _liberty_ is never in any other
danger than to be lost; and if it cannot be lost, which he
confesses, I may infer, it can be in no danger at all.
The fourth opinion his Lordship rejecteth, is of them that make the
will necessarily to follow the last dictate of the understanding;
but it seems his Lordship understands that tenet in another sense
than I do; for he speaketh as if they that held it, did suppose men
must dispute the sequel of every action they do, great and small, to
the least grain; which is a thing his Lordship, with reason, thinks
untrue. But I understand it to signify, that the _will_ follows the
_last_ opinion or _judgment_ immediately preceding the _action_,
concerning whether it be good to do it or not, whether he have
weighed it long before, or not at all, and that I take to be the
meaning of them that hold it. As for example, when a man strikes,
his will to strike follows necessarily that thought he had of the
sequel of his stroke, immediately before the lifting up of his hand.
Now if it be understood in that sense, the _last_ dictate of the
understanding does _necessitate_ the _action_, though not as the
whole cause, yet as the last cause, as the last feather necessitates
the breaking of a horse’s back, when there are so many laid on
before, as there needed but the addition of one to make the weight
sufficient.
That which his Lordship allegeth against this, is first, out of a
poet, who in the person of Medea says,
“Video meliora, proboque,
Deteriora sequor.”
But that saying, as pretty as it is, is not true; for though Medea
saw many reasons to forbear killing her children, yet the last
dictate of her judgment was, that the present revenge on her husband
outweighed them all, and thereupon the wicked action _necessarily_
followed. Then the story of the Roman, who of two competitors, said,
one had the better reason, but the other must have the office. This
also maketh against his Lordship, for the last dictate of his
judgment that had the bestowing of the office, was this, that it was
better to take a great bribe, than reward a great merit.
Thirdly, he objects that things nearer the sense, move more
powerfully than reason; what followeth thence but this, the sense of
the present good is commonly more immediate to the action, than the
foresight of the evil consequence to come? Fourthly, whereas his
Lordship says, that do what a man can, he shall sorrow more for the
death of his son than for the sin of his soul, makes nothing to the
last dictate of the understanding; but it argues plainly, that
sorrow for sin is not _voluntary_, and by consequence, that
_repentance_ proceedeth from causes.
The last part of this discourse containeth his Lordship’s opinions
about reconciling _liberty_ with the _prescience_ and _decrees_ of
God, otherwise than some _divines_ have done, against whom, he says,
he had formerly written a treatise, out of which he repeateth only
two things: one is, _That we ought not to desert a certain truth,
for not being able to comprehend the certain manner of it_. And I
say the same, as for example, that his Lordship ought not to desert
this certain truth, _that there are certain and_ necessary causes
_which make every man to_ will _what he willeth, though he do not_
yet conceive in what manner the _will_ of man is _caused_. And yet I
think the manner of it is not very hard to conceive, seeing we see
daily, that _praise_, _dispraise_, _reward_, and _punishment_,
_good_ and _evil_, sequels of men’s _actions_ retained in _memory_,
do frame and make us to the _election_ of whatsoever it be that we
elect, and that the memory of such things proceeds from the
_senses_, and _sense_ from the operation of the objects of sense,
which are external to us, and governed only by God Almighty; and by
consequence all _actions_, even of _free_ and _voluntary_ agents,
are necessary.
The other thing that he repeateth, is, that the best way to
reconcile _contingence_ and _liberty_ with _prescience_ and the
_decrees_ of _God_, is to subject future _contingencies_ to the
_aspect of God_. The same is also my opinion, but contrary to what
his Lordship all this while laboured to prove. For hitherto he held
_liberty_ and _necessity_, that is to say, _liberty_ and the
_decrees_ of _God_, irreconcileable, unless the _aspect of God_,
which word appeareth now the first time in this discourse, signify
somewhat else besides _God’s will_ and _decree_, which I cannot
understand. But he adds that we must subject them, according to that
_presentiality_ which they have in eternity, which he says cannot be
done by them that conceive _eternity_ to be an _everlasting
succession_, but only by them that conceive it as an _indivisible
point_. To which I answer, that as soon as I can conceive _eternity_
to be an _indivisible point_, or anything but an _everlasting
succession_, I will renounce all that I have written on this
subject. I know St. Thomas Aquinas calls _eternity_, _nunc stans_,
an _ever-abiding now_; which is easy enough to say, but though I
fain would, yet I could never conceive it: they that can, are more
happy than I. But in the mean time his Lordship alloweth all men to
be of my opinion, save only those that can conceive in their minds a
_nunc stans_, which I think are none. I understand as little how it
can be true his Lordship says, that God is not _just_, but _justice_
itself; not _wise_, but _wisdom_ itself; not _eternal_, but
_eternity_ itself; nor how he concludes thence, that _eternity_ is a
_point indivisible_, and not a _succession_, nor in what sense it
can be said, that an _infinite point_, and wherein is no
_succession_, can comprehend all _time_, though time be
_successive_. These phrases I find not in the Scripture; I wonder
therefore what was the design of the Schoolmen to bring them up,
unless they thought a man could not be a true Christian unless his
understanding be first strangled with such hard sayings. And thus
much for answer to his Lordship’s discourse, wherein I think not
only his _squadrons of arguments_, but also his _reserve of
distinctions_, are defeated. And now your Lordship shall have my
doctrine concerning the same question, with my _reasons_ for it,
positively, and as briefly as I can, without any terms of _art_, in
plain English.
MY OPINION ABOUT LIBERTY AND NECESSITY.
First I conceive, that when it cometh into a man’s mind to do or not
to do some certain action, if he have no time to _deliberate_, the
doing it or abstaining _necessarily_ follow the _present_ thought he
hath of the _good_ or _evil_ consequence thereof to himself. As for
example, in sudden _anger_, the _action_ shall follow the thought of
_revenge_; in sudden _fear_, the thought of _escape_. Also when a
man hath time to _deliberate_, but deliberates not, because never
anything appeared that could make him doubt of the consequence, the
_action_ follows his opinion of the _goodness_ or _harm_ of it.
These actions I call VOLUNTARY, my Lord, if I understand him aright
that calls them SPONTANEOUS. I call them _voluntary_, because those
_actions_ that follow immediately the _last_ appetite, are
_voluntary_, and here where is one only appetite, that one is the
last. Besides, I see it is reasonable to punish a _rash_ action,
which could not be justly done by man to man, unless the same were
_voluntary_. For no _action_ of a man can be said to be without
_deliberation_, though never so sudden, because it is supposed he
had time to _deliberate_ all the precedent time of his life, whether
he should do that kind of action or not. And hence it is, that he
that killeth in a sudden passion of _anger_, shall nevertheless be
justly put to _death_, because all the time, wherein he was able to
consider whether to kill were good or evil, shall be held for one
continual _deliberation_, and consequently the killing shall be
judged to proceed from _election_.
Secondly, I conceive when a man _deliberates_ whether he shall do a
thing or not do it, that he does nothing else but consider whether
it be better for himself to do it or not to do it. And to _consider_
an action, is to imagine the _consequences_ of it, both _good_ and
_evil_. From whence is to be inferred, that _deliberation_ is
nothing else but _alternate_ imagination of the _good_ and _evil_
sequels of an _action_, or, which is the same thing, alternate
_hope_ and _fear_, or alternate _appetite_ to do or quit the action
of which he _deliberateth_.
Thirdly, I conceive that in all _deliberations_, that is to say, in
all alternate _succession_ of contrary _appetites_, the last is that
which we call the WILL, and is immediately next before the doing of
the action, or next before the doing of it become impossible. All
other _appetites_ to do, and to quit, that come upon a man during
his deliberations, are called _intentions_ and _inclinations_, but
not _wills_, there being but one _will_, which also in this case may
be called the _last will_, though the _intentions_ change often.
Fourthly, I conceive that those _actions_, which a man is said to do
upon _deliberation_, are said to be _voluntary_, and done upon
_choice_ and _election_, so that _voluntary_ action, and action
proceeding from _election_ is the same thing; and that of a
_voluntary agent_, it is all one to say, he is _free_, and to say,
he hath not made an end of _deliberating_.
Fifthly, I conceive _liberty_ to be rightly defined in this manner:
_Liberty is the absence of all the impediments to action that are
not contained in the nature and intrinsical quality of the agent_.
As for example, the water is said to descend _freely_, or to have
_liberty_ to descend by the channel of the river, because there is
no impediment that way, but not across, because the banks are
impediments. And though the water cannot ascend, yet men never say
it wants the _liberty_ to ascend, but the _faculty_ or _power_,
because the impediment is in the nature of the water, and
intrinsical. So also we say, he that is tied, wants the _liberty_ to
go, because the impediment is not in him, but in his bands; whereas
we say not so of him that is sick or lame, because the impediment is
in himself.
Sixthly, I conceive that nothing taketh beginning from _itself_, but
from the _action_ of some other immediate _agent_ without itself.
And that therefore, when first a man hath an _appetite_ or _will_ to
something, to which immediately before he had no appetite nor will,
the _cause_ of his _will_, is not the _will_ itself, but _something_
else not in his own disposing. So that whereas it is out of
controversy, that of _voluntary_ actions the _will_ is the
_necessary_ cause, and by this which is said, the _will_ is also
_caused_ by other things whereof it disposeth not, it followeth,
that _voluntary_ actions have all of them _necessary_ causes, and
therefore are _necessitated_.
Seventhly, I hold that to be a _sufficient cause_, to which nothing
is wanting that is needful to the producing of the _effect_. The
same also is a _necessary_ cause. For if it be possible that a
_sufficient_ cause shall not bring forth the _effect_, then there
wanteth somewhat which was needful to the producing of it, and so
the _cause_ was not _sufficient_; but if it be impossible that a
_sufficient_ cause should not produce the _effect_, then is a
_sufficient_ cause a _necessary_ cause, for that is said to produce
an effect _necessarily_ that cannot but produce it. Hence it is
manifest, that whatsoever is produced, is produced _necessarily_;
for whatsoever is produced hath had a _sufficient_ cause to produce
it, or else it had not been; and therefore also _voluntary_ actions
are _necessitated_.
Lastly, that ordinary _definition_ of a _free agent_, namely, _that
a_ free agent _is that, which, when all things are present which are
needful to produce the_ effect, _can nevertheless not produce it_,
implies a contradiction, and is nonsense; being as much as to say,
the cause may be _sufficient_, that is to say, _necessary_, and yet
the _effect_ shall not follow.
-------
MY REASONS.
For the first five points, wherein it is explicated I, what
_spontaneity_ is; II, what _deliberation_ is; III, what _will_,
_propension_, and _appetite_ are; IV, what a _free agent_ is: V,
what _liberty_ is; there can no other proof be offered but every
man’s own experience, by reflection on himself, and remembering what
he useth in his mind, that is, what he himself meaneth when he saith
an action is _spontaneous_, a man _deliberates_; such is his _will_,
that _agent_ or that _action_ is _free_. Now he that reflecteth so
on himself, cannot but be satisfied, that _deliberation_ is the
_consideration of the good and evil sequels of an action to come_;
that by _spontaneity_ is meant _inconsiderate action_, or else
nothing is meant by it; that _will_ is the _last act of our
deliberation_; that a _free agent_ is he _that can do if he will_,
and _forbear if he will_; and that _liberty is the absence of
external impediments_. But to those that out of custom speak not
what they conceive, but what they hear, and are not able, or will
not take the pains to consider what they think when they hear such
words, no argument can be sufficient, because _experience_ and
_matter of fact_ are not verified by other men’s arguments, but by
every man’s own _sense_ and _memory_. For example, how can it be
proved that to _love_ a thing and to think it _good_ is all one, to
a man that doth not mark his own meaning by those words? Or how can
it be proved that _eternity_ is not _nunc stans_, to a man that says
those words by custom, and never considers how he can conceive the
thing in his mind?
Also the sixth point, that a man cannot imagine anything to begin
_without a cause_, can no other way be made known, but by trying how
he can imagine it; but if he try, he shall find as much reason, if
there be no cause of the thing, to conceive it should begin at one
time as another, that he hath equal reason to think it should begin
at all times, which is impossible, and therefore he must think there
was some special cause why it began then, rather than sooner or
later; or else that it began never, but was _eternal_.
For the seventh point, which is, that all _events_ have _necessary_
causes, it is there proved, in that they have _sufficient_ causes.
Further let us in this place also suppose any event never so casual,
as the throwing, for example, _ames ace_ upon a pair of dice, and
see, if it must not have been _necessary_ before it was thrown. For
seeing it was thrown, it had a _beginning_, and consequently a
_sufficient_ cause to produce it, consisting partly in the _dice_,
partly in outward things, as the posture of the parts of the _hand_,
the measure of _force_ applied by the caster, the posture of the
parts of the _table_, and the like. In sum, there was nothing
wanting which was necessarily requisite to the producing of that
particular cast, and consequently the cast was necessarily thrown;
for if it had not been thrown, there had wanted somewhat requisite
to the throwing of it, and so the cause had not been _sufficient_.
In the like manner it may be proved that every other accident, how
_contingent_ soever it seem, or how _voluntary_ soever it be, is
produced _necessarily_, which is that that my Lord Bishop disputes
against. The same may be proved also in this manner. Let the case be
put, for example, of the weather. _It is necessary that to-morrow it
shall rain or not rain._ If therefore it be not _necessary_ it shall
rain, it is _necessary_ it shall not rain, otherwise there is no
necessity that the proposition, _it shall rain or not rain_, should
be true. I know there be some that say, it may necessarily be true
that one of the two shall come to pass, but not, singly that it
shall rain, or that it shall not rain, which is as much to say,
_one_ of them is _necessary_, yet neither of them is _necessary_;
and therefore to seem to avoid that absurdity, they make a
distinction, that neither of them is true _determinate_, but
_indeterminate_; which distinction either signifies no more but
this, one of them is true, but we know not which, and so the
necessity remains, though we know it not; or if the meaning of the
distinction be not that, it hath no meaning, and they might as well
have said, one of them is true _Titirice_, but neither of them, _Tu
patulice_.
The last thing, in which also consisteth the whole controversy,
namely that there is no such thing as an agent, _which when all
things requisite to action are present, can nevertheless forbear to
produce it_; or, which is all one, that there is no such thing as
_freedom from necessity_, is easily inferred from that which hath
been before alleged. For if it be an _agent_, it can _work_; and if
it _work_, there is nothing wanting of what is requisite to produce
the _action_, and consequently the cause of the action is
_sufficient_; and if _sufficient_, then also _necessary_, as hath
been proved before.
And thus you see how the _inconveniences_, which his Lordship
objecteth must follow upon the holding of _necessity_, are avoided,
and the _necessity_ itself _demonstratively_ proved. To which I
could add, if I thought it good logic, the _inconvenience_ of
denying _necessity_, as that it destroyeth both the _decrees_ and
the _prescience_ of God Almighty; for whatsoever God hath _purposed_
to bring to pass by _man_, as an instrument, or foreseeth shall come
to pass; a man, if he have _liberty_, such as his Lordship
affirmeth, from _necessitation_, might frustrate, and make not to
come to pass, and God should either not _foreknow_ it, and not
_decree_ it, or he should _foreknow_ such things shall be, as shall
never be, and _decree_ that which shall never _come to pass_.
This is all that hath come into my mind touching this question since
I last considered it. And I humbly beseech your Lordship to
communicate it only to my Lord Bishop. And so praying God to prosper
your Lordship in all your designs, I take leave, and am,
My most noble and most obliging Lord,
Your most humble servant,
THOMAS HOBBES.
Rouen, _Aug. 20, 1652_.[A]
Footnote A:
In the first edition of 1654 this date is 1646.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
AN
ANSWER
TO A BOOK PUBLISHED BY
DR. BRAMHALL,
LATE BISHOP OF DERRY;
CALLED THE
“CATCHING OF THE LEVIATHAN.”
TOGETHER WITH AN
HISTORICAL NARRATION CONCERNING
HERESY,
AND THE PUNISHMENT THEREOF.
TO THE READER.
-------
As in all things which I have written, so also in this piece, I have
endeavoured all I can to be perspicuous; but yet your own attention
is always necessary. The late Lord Bishop of Derry published a book
called _The Catching of the Leviathan_, in which he hath put
together divers sentences picked out of my _Leviathan_, which stand
there plainly and firmly proved, and sets them down without their
proofs, and without the order of their dependance one upon another;
and calls them atheism, blasphemy, impiety, subversion of religion,
and by other names of that kind. My request unto you is, that when
he cites my words for erroneous, you will be pleased to turn to the
place itself, and see whether they be well proved, and how to be
understood. Which labour his Lordship might have saved you, if he
would have vouchsafed as well to have weighed my arguments before
you, as to have shown you my conclusions. His book containeth two
chapters, the one concerning Religion, the other concerning
Politics. Because he does not so much as offer any refutation of any
thing in my _Leviathan_ concluded, I needed not to have answered
either of them. Yet to the first I here answer, because the words
_atheism_, _impiety_, and the like, are words of the greatest
defamation possible. And this I had done sooner, if I had sooner
known that such a book was extant. He wrote it ten years since, and
yet I never heard of it till about three months since; so little
talk there was of his Lordship’s writings. If you want leisure or
care of the questions between us, I pray you condemn me not upon
report. To judge and not examine is not just.
Farewell.
T. HOBBES.
-------
AN ANSWER,
ETC.
-------
THAT THE HOBBIAN PRINCIPLES ARE DESTRUCTIVE TO CHRISTIANITY AND ALL
RELIGION.
_J. D._ The image of God is not altogether defaced by the fall of
man, but that there will remain some practical notions of God and
goodness; which when the mind is free from vagrant desires, and
violent passions, do shine as clearly in the heart, as other
speculative notions do in the head. Hence it is, that there was
never any nation so barbarous or savage throughout the whole world,
which had not their God. They who did never wear clothes upon their
backs, who did never know magistrate but their father, yet have
their God, and their religious rights and devotions to him. Hence it
is, that the greatest atheists in any sudden danger do unwittingly
cast their eyes up to heaven, as craving aid from thence, and in a
thunder creep into some hole to hide themselves. And they who are
conscious to themselves of any secret crimes, though they be secure
enough from the justice of men, do yet feel the blind blows of a
guilty conscience, and fear Divine vengeance. This is acknowledged
by T. H. himself in his lucid intervals. _That we may know what
worship of God natural reason doth assign, let us begin with his
attributes, where it is manifest in the first place, that existency
is to be attributed to him._ To which he addeth, _infiniteness_,
_incomprehensibility_, _unity_, _ubiquity_. Thus for attributes;
next for actions. _Concerning external actions, wherewith God is to
be worshipped, the most general precept of reason is, that they be
signs of honour_; under which are contained _prayers, thanksgivings,
oblations, and sacrifices_.
_T. H._ Hitherto his Lordship discharges me of atheism. What need he
to say that _all nations, how barbarous soever, yet have their Gods
and religious rites, and atheists are frighted with thunder, and
feel the blind blows of conscience_? It might have been as apt a
preface to any other of his discourses as this. I expect therefore
in the next place to be told, that I deny again my afore-recited
doctrine.
_J. D._ Yet, to let us see how inconsistent and irreconcileable he
is with himself, elsewhere reckoning up all the laws of nature at
large, even twenty in number, he hath not one word that concerneth
religion, or hath the least relation in the world to God. As if a
man were like the colt of a wild ass in the wilderness, without any
owner or obligation. Thus in describing the laws of nature, this
great clerk forgetteth the God of nature, and the main and principal
laws of nature, which contain a man’s duty to his God, and the
principal end of his creation.
_T. H._ After I had ended the discourse he mentions of the laws of
nature, I thought it fittest in the last place, once for all, to say
they were the laws of God, then when they were delivered in the word
of God; but before, being not known by men for any thing but their
own natural reason, they were but theorems, tending to peace, and
those uncertain, as being but conclusions of particular men, and
therefore not properly laws. Besides, I had formerly in my book _De
Cive_, cap. IV, proved them severally, one by one, out of the
Scriptures: which his Lordship had read and knew. It was therefore
an unjust charge of his to say, I had not one word in them that
concerns religion, or that hath the least relation in the world to
God; and this upon no other ground than that I added not to every
article, _this law is in the Scripture_. But why he should call me
(ironically) a great clerk, I cannot tell. I suppose he would make
men believe, I arrogated to myself all the learning of a great
clerk, bishop, or other inferior minister. A learned bishop, is that
bishop that can interpret all parts of Scripture truly, and
congruently to the harmony of the whole; that has learnt the history
and laws of the Church, down from the apostles' time to his own; and
knows what is the nature of a law civil, divine, natural, and
positive; and how to govern well the parochial ministers of his
diocese, so that they may both by doctrine and example keep the
people in the belief of all articles of faith necessary to
salvation, and in obedience to the laws of their country. This is a
learned bishop. A learned minister, is he that hath learned the way
by which men may be drawn from avarice, pride, sensuality,
profaneness, rebellious principles, and all other vices, by eloquent
and powerful disgracing of them, both from Scripture and from
reason; and can terrify men from vice, by discreet uttering of the
punishments denounced against wicked men, and by deducing,
rationally, the damage they receive by it in the end. In one word,
he is a learned minister that can preach such sermons as St.
Chrysostom preached to the Antiochians, when he was presbyter in
that city. Could his Lordship find in my book, that I arrogated to
myself the eloquence or wisdom of St. Chrysostom, or the ability of
governing the church? It is one thing to know what is to be done,
another thing to know how to do it. But his Lordship was pleased to
use any artifice to disgrace me in any kind whatsoever.
_J. D._ Perhaps he will say that he handleth the laws of nature
there, only so far as may serve to the constitution or settlement of
a commonwealth. In good time, let it be so. He hath devised us a
trim commonwealth, which is founded neither upon religion towards
God, nor justice towards man; but merely upon self-interest, and
self-preservation. Those rays of heavenly light, those natural seeds
of religion, which God himself hath imprinted in the heart of man,
are more efficacious towards preservation of a society, whether we
regard the nature of the thing, or the blessing of God, than all his
_pacts_, and _surrenders_, and _translations of power_. He who
unteacheth men their duty to God, may make them eye-servants, so
long as their interest doth oblige them to obey; but is no fit
master to teach men conscience and fidelity.
_T. H._ He has not yet found the place where I contradict either the
existence, or infiniteness, or incomprehensibility, or unity, or
ubiquity of God. I am therefore yet absolved of atheism. But I am,
he says, inconsistent and irreconcileable with myself; that is, I am
(though he says not so) he thinks, a forgetful blockhead. I cannot
help that: but my forgetfulness appears not here. Even his Lordship,
where he says, “those rays of heavenly light, those seeds of
religion, which God himself hath imprinted in the heart of man
(meaning natural reason), are more efficacious to the preservation
of society, than all the _pacts, surrenders_, and _translating of
power_,” had forgotten to except the old pact of the Jews, and the
new pact of Christians. But pardoning that, did he hope to make any
wise man believe, that when this nation very lately was an anarchy,
and dissolute multitude of men, doing every one what his own reason
or imprinted light suggested, they did again out of the same light
call in the king, and peace again, and ask pardon for the faults,
which that their illumination had brought them into, rather than out
of fear of perpetual danger and hope of preservation?
_J. D._ Without religion, societies are like but soapy bubbles,
quickly dissolved. It was the judgment of as wise a man as T. H.
himself, though perhaps he will hardly be persuaded to it, that Rome
owed more of its grandeur to religion, than either to strength or
stratagems. _We have not exceeded the Spaniards in number, nor the
Gauls in strength, nor the Carthaginians in craft, nor the Grecians
in art, &c. but we have overcome all nations by our piety and
religion._
_T. H._ Did not his Lordship forget himself here again, in approving
this sentence of Tully, which makes the idolatry of the Romans, not
only better than the idolatry of other nations; but also better than
the religion of the Jews, whose law Christ himself says he came not
to destroy but to fulfil? And that the Romans overcame both them and
other nations by their piety, when it is manifest that the Romans
overran the world by injustice and cruelty, and that their victories
ought not to be ascribed to the piety of the Romans, but to the
impiety as well of the Jews as of other nations? But what meant he
by saying “Tully was as wise a man as T. H. himself, though perhaps
he will hardly be persuaded to it?” Was that any part of the
controversy? No: then it was out of his way. God promiseth to assist
good men in their way, but not out of their way. It is therefore the
less wonder that his Lordship was in this place deserted of the
light, which God imprints in the hearts of rudest savages.
_J. D._ Among his laws he inserteth _gratitude_ to men as the third
precept of the law of nature; but of the gratitude of mankind to
their Creator, there is a deep silence. If men had sprung up from
the earth in a night, like mushrooms or excrescences, without all
sense of honour, justice, conscience, or gratitude, he could not
have vilified the human nature more than he doth.
_T. H._ My Lord discovers here an ignorance of such method as is
necessary for lawful and strict reasoning, and explication of the
truth in controversy. And not only that, but also how little able he
is to fix his mind upon what he reads in other men’s writings. When
I had defined ingratitude universally, he finds fault that I do not
mention ingratitude towards God, as if his Lordship knew not that an
universal comprehends all the particulars. When I had defined equity
universally, why did he not as well blame me for not telling what
that equity is in God? He is grateful to the man of whom he receives
a good turn, that confesseth, or maketh appear he is pleased with
the benefit he receiveth. So also gratitude towards God is to
confess his benefits. There is also, in gratitude towards men, a
desire to requite their benefits; so there is in our gratitude
towards God, so far to requite them, as to be kind to God’s
ministers, which I acknowledged in making sacrifices a part of
natural divine worship; and the benefit of those sacrifices is the
nourishment of God’s ministers. It appears therefore, that the
bishop’s attention in reading my writings, was either weak in
itself, or weakened by prejudice.
_J. D._ From this shameful omission or preterition of the main duty
of mankind, a man might easily take the height of T. H. his
religion. But he himself putteth it past all conjectures. His
principles are brim full of prodigious impiety. _In these four
things, opinions of ghosts, ignorance of second causes, devotion to
what men fear, and taking of things casual for prognostics,
consisteth the natural seed of religion_; the culture and
improvement whereof, he referreth only to _policy_. Human and divine
politics, are but politics. And again, _mankind hath this from the
conscience of their own weakness, and the admiration of natural
events, that the most part of men believe that there is an invisible
God, the maker of all visible things_. And a little after he telleth
us, that _superstition proceedeth from fear without right reason,
and atheism from an opinion of reason without fear_; making atheism
to be more reasonable than superstition. What is now become of that
divine worship which natural reason did assign unto God, the honour
of existence, infiniteness, incomprehensibility, unity, ubiquity?
What is now become of that dictate or precept of reason, concerning
_prayers_, _thanksgivings_, _oblations_, _sacrifices_, if uncertain
opinions, ignorance, fear, mistakes, the conscience of our own
weakness, and the admiration of natural events, be the only seeds of
religion?
He proceedeth further, that _atheism itself, though it be an
erroneous opinion, and therefore a sin, yet it ought to be numbered
among the sins of imprudence or ignorance_. He addeth, that _an
atheist is punished not as a subject is punished by his king,
because he did not observe laws: but as an enemy, by an enemy,
because he would not accept laws_. His reason is, because _the
atheist never submitted his will to the will of God, whom he never
thought to be_. And he concludeth that man’s obligation to obey God
proceedeth from his weakness, (De Cive, XV. 7: vol. II. p. 336):
_Manifestum est obligationem ad prestandam ipsi_ (Deo) _obedientiam,
incumbere hominibus propter imbecilitatem_. First, it is impossible
that should be a sin of mere ignorance or imprudence, which is
directly contrary to the light of natural reason. The laws of nature
need no new promulgation, being imprinted naturally by God in the
heart of man. _The law of nature was written in our hearts by the
finger of God, without our assent_; or rather, _the law of nature is
the assent itself_. Then if nature dictate to us that there is a
God, and that this God is to be worshipped in such and such a
manner, it is not possible that atheism should be a sin of mere
ignorance.
Secondly, a rebellious subject is still a subject _de jure_, though
not _de facto_; by right, though not by deed: and so the most cursed
atheist that is, ought by right to be the subject of God, and ought
to be punished not as a just enemy, but as a disloyal traitor. Which
is confessed by himself: _this fourth sin_ (that is, of those who do
not by word and deed confess one God, the supreme King of Kings) _in
the natural kingdom of God is the crime of high treason, for it is a
denial of Divine power, or atheism_. Then an atheist is a traitor to
God, and punishable as a disloyal subject, not as an enemy.
Lastly, it is an absurd and dishonourable assertion, to make our
obedience to God to depend upon our weakness, because we cannot help
it, and not upon our gratitude, because we owe our being and
preservation to him. _Who planteth a vineyard, and eateth not of the
fruit thereof? And who feedeth a flock, and eateth not of the milk
of the flock?_ And again, _Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive
glory, and honour and power; for thou hast created all things, and
for thy pleasure they are and were created_. But it were much
better, or at least not so ill, to be a downright atheist, than to
make God to be such a thing as he doth, and at last thrust him into
the Devil’s office, to be the cause of all sin.
_T. H._ Though this bishop, as I said, had but a weak attention in
reading, and little skill in examining the force of an argument, yet
he knew men, and the art, without troubling their judgments, to win
their assents by exciting their passions. One rule of his art was to
give his reader what he would have him swallow, a part by itself,
and in the nature of news, whether true or not. Knowing that the
unlearned, that is most men, are content to believe, rather than be
troubled with examining, therefore, a little before, he put these
words, _T. H. no friend to religion_, in the margin. And in this
place, before he offer at any confutation, he says my principles are
brim full of _prodigious impieties_. And at the next paragraph, in
the margin, he puts that _I excuse atheism_. This behaviour becomes
neither a bishop, nor a Christian, nor any man that pretends to good
education. Fear of invisible powers, what is it else in savage
people, but the fear of somewhat they think a God? What invisible
power does the reason of a savage man suggest unto him, but those
phantasms of his sleep, or his distemper, which we frequently call
ghosts, and the savages thought gods; so that the fear of a God,
though not of the true one, to them was the beginning of religion,
as the fear of the true God was the beginning of wisdom to the Jews
and Christians? Ignorance of second causes made men fly to some
first cause, the fear of which bred devotion and worship. The
ignorance of what that power might do, made them observe the order
of what he had done; that they might guess by the like order, what
he was to do another time. This was their prognostication. What
prodigious impiety is here? How confutes he it? Must it be taken for
impiety upon his bare calumny? I said superstition was fear without
reason. Is not the fear of a false God, or fancied demon, contrary
to right reason? And is not atheism boldness grounded on false
reasoning, such as is this, _the wicked prosper, therefore there is
no God_? He offers no proof against any of this; but says only I
make atheism to be more reasonable than superstition; which is not
true: for I deny that there is any reason either in the atheist or
in the superstitious. And because the atheist thinks he has reason,
where he has none, I think him the more irrational of the two. But
all this while he argues not against any of this; but enquires only,
what is become of my natural worship of God, and of his existency;
infiniteness, incomprehensibility, unity, and ubiquity. As if
whatsoever reason can suggest, must be suggested all at once. First,
all men by nature had an opinion of God’s existency; but of his
other attributes not so soon, but by reasoning, and by degrees. And
for the attributes of the true God, they were never suggested but by
the Word of God written. In that I say atheism is a sin of
ignorance, he says I excuse it. The prophet David says, _the fool
hath said in his heart, there is no God_. Is it not then a sin of
folly? It is agreed between us, that right reason dictates, there is
a God. Does it not follow, that denying of God is a sin proceeding
from misreasoning. If it be not a sin of ignorance, it must be a sin
of malice. Can a man malice that which he thinks has no being? But
may not one think there is a God, and yet maliciously deny him? If
he think there is a God, he is no atheist; and so the question is
changed into this, whether any man that thinks there is a God, dares
deliberately deny it? For my part I think not. For upon what
confidence dares any man, deliberately I say, oppose the Omnipotent?
David saith of himself, _My feet were ready to slip when I saw the
prosperity of the wicked_. Therefore it is likely the feet of men
less holy slip oftener. But I think no man living is so daring,
being out of passion, as to hold it as his opinion. Those wicked men
that for a long time proceeded so successfully in the late horrid
rebellion, may perhaps make some think they were constant and
resolved atheists: but I think rather that they forgot God, than
believed there was none. He that believes there is such an atheist,
comes a little too near that opinion himself; nevertheless if words
spoken in passion signify a denial of a God, no punishment
preordained by law, can be too great for such an insolence; because
there is no living in a commonwealth with men, to whose oaths we
cannot reasonably give credit. As to that I say, _an atheist is
punished by God not as a subject by his king, but as an enemy_; and
to my argument for it, namely, _because he never acknowledged
himself God’s subject_, he opposeth, that if nature dictate that
there is a God, and to be worshipped in such and such manner, then
atheism is not a sin of mere ignorance: as if either I or he did
hold that nature dictates the manner of God’s worship, or any
article of our creed, or whether to worship with or without a
surplice. Secondly, he answers that a rebel is still a subject _de
jure_, though not _de facto_: and it is granted. But though the king
lose none of his right by the traitor’s act, yet the traitor loseth
the privilege of being punished by a precedent law; and therefore
may be punished at the king’s will, as Ravaillac was for murdering
Henry IV of France. An open enemy and a perfidious traitor are both
enemies. Had not his Lordship read in the Roman story, how Perseus
and other just enemies of that state were wont to be punished? But
what is this trifling question to my _excusing of atheism_? In the
seventh paragraph of chapter XV. of my book _De Cive_, he found the
words in Latin, which he here citeth. And to the same sense I have
said in my _Leviathan_, that the right of nature whereby God
reigneth over men, is to be derived not from his creating them, as
if he required obedience, as of gratitude; but from his irresistible
power. This he says is absurd and dishonourable. Whereas first all
power is honourable, and the greatest power is most honourable. Is
it not a more noble tenure for a king to hold his kingdom, and the
right to punish those that transgress his laws, from his power, than
from the gratitude or gift of the transgressor. There is nothing
therefore here of dishonour to God Almighty. But see the subtilty of
his disputing. He saw he could not catch _Leviathan_ in this place,
he looks for him in my book _De Cive_, which is Latin, to try what
he could fish out of that: and says I make our obedience to God,
depend upon our weakness; as if these words signified the
_dependence_, and not the _necessity_ of our submission, or that
_incumbere_ and _dependere_ were all one.
_J. D._ For T. H. his God is not the God of Christians, nor of any
rational men. Our God is every where, and seeing he hath no parts,
he must be wholly here, and wholly there, and wholly every where.
So nature itself dictateth. _It cannot be said honourably of God
that he is in a place; for nothing is in a place, but that which
hath proper bounds of its greatness._ But T. H. his God is not
wholly every where. _No man can conceive that any thing is all in
this place, and all in another place at the same time, for none of
these things ever have or can be incident to sense._ So far well,
if by _conceiving_ he mean _comprehending_; but then follows,
_That these are absurd speeches taken upon credit, without any
signification at all, from deceived philosophers, and deceived or
deceiving Schoolmen_. Thus he denieth the ubiquity of God. A
_circumscriptive_, a definitive, and a repletive being in a place,
is some heathen language to him.
_T. H._ Though I believe the omnipotence of God, and that he can do
what he will, yet I dare not say how every thing is done, because I
cannot conceive nor comprehend either the Divine substance, or the
way of its operation. And I think it impiety to speak concerning God
any thing of my own head, or upon the authority of philosophers or
Schoolmen, which I understand not, without warrant in the Scripture:
and what I say of omnipotence, I say also of ubiquity. But his
Lordship is more valiant in this place, telling us that God is
_wholly here_, and _wholly there_, and _wholly every where_; because
he has no parts. I cannot comprehend nor conceive this. For methinks
it implies also that the whole world is also in the whole God, and
in every part of God. Nor can I conceive how any thing can be called
_whole_, which has no parts, nor can I find anything of this in the
Scripture. If I could find it there, I could believe it; and if I
could find it in the public doctrine of the Church, I could easily
abstain from contradicting it. The Schoolmen say also, that the soul
of man (meaning his upper soul, which they call the rational soul)
is also _wholly_ in _the whole man_, and _wholly_ in _every part_ of
the man. What is this, but to make the human soul the same thing in
respect of man’s body, that God is in respect of the world? These
his Lordship calls here rational men, and some of them which applaud
this doctrine, would have the high court of parliament corroborate
such doctrines with a law. I said in my _Leviathan_, that it is no
honourable attribute to God, to say he is _in a place_, because
infinite is not confined within a place. To which he replies, _T. H.
his God is not wholly every where_. I confess the consequence. For I
understand in _English_, he that says any thing to be _all here_,
means that _neither all nor any of the same thing is elsewhere_. He
says further, I take a _circumscriptive, a definitive, and a
repletive_ being in a place to be heathen language. Truly, if this
dispute were at the bar, I should go near to crave the assistance of
the court, lest some trick might be put upon me in such obscurity.
For though I know what these Latin words singly signify, yet I
understand not how any thing is in a _place definitively_ and not
_circumscriptively_. For _definitively_ comes from _definio_, which
is to set bounds. And therefore to be in a place definitively, is
when the bounds of the _place_ are every way marked out. But to be
in a place circumscriptively, is when the bounds of the place are
described round about. To be in a place repletively, is to fill a
place. Who does not see that this distinction is canting and fraud?
If any man will call it pious fraud, he is to prove the piety as
clearly as I have here explained the fraud. Besides, no fraud can be
pious in any man, but him that hath a lawful right to govern him
whom he beguileth; whom the Bishop pretends to govern, I cannot
tell. Besides, his Lordship ought to have considered, that every
Bishop is one of the great Council, trusted by the King to give
their advice with the Lords temporal, for the making of good laws,
civil and ecclesiastical, and not to offer them such obscure
doctrines, as if, because they are not versed in School-divinity,
therefore they had no learning at all, nor understood the English
tongue. Why did the divines of England contend so much heretofore to
have the Bible translated into English, if they never meant any but
themselves should read it? If a lay-man be publicly encouraged to
search the Scriptures for his own salvation, what has a divine to do
to impose upon him any strange interpretation, unless, if he make
him err to damnation, he will be damned in his stead?
_J. D._ Our God is immutable without any shadow of turning by
change, to whom all things are present, nothing past, nothing to
come. But T. H. his God is measured by time, losing something that
is past, and acquiring something that doth come every minute. That
is as much as to say, that our God is infinite, and his God is
finite; for unto that which is actually infinite, nothing can be
added, neither time nor parts. Hear himself: _Nor do I understand
what derogation it can be to the Divine perfection, to attribute to
it potentiality, that is in English, power_ (so little doth he
understand what potentiality is) _and successive duration_. And he
chargeth it upon us as a fault, that we will not have eternity to be
an _endless succession of time_. How, _successive duration, and an
endless succession of time in God_? Then God is not infinite, then
God is older to-day than he was yesterday. Away with blasphemies!
Before, he destroyed the ubiquity of God, and now he destroyeth his
eternity.
_T. H._ I shall omit both here and henceforth his preambulatory,
impertinent, and uncivil calumnies. The thing he pretends to prove
is this. That it is a derogation to the Divine power to attribute to
it potentiality (that is in English power) and successive duration.
One of his reasons is, God is infinite, and nothing can be added to
infinite, neither of time nor of parts: it is true. And therefore I
said, God is infinite and eternal, without beginning or end, either
of time or place; which he has not here confuted, but confirmed. He
denies potentiality and power to be all one, and says I little
understand what potentiality is. He ought therefore in this place to
have defined what potentiality is: for I understand it to be the
same with _potentia_, which is in English power. There is no such
word as potentiality in the Scriptures, nor in any author of the
Latin tongue. It is found only in School-divinity, as a word of art,
or rather as a word of craft, to amaze and puzzle the laity. And
therefore I no sooner read than interpreted it. In the next place he
says, as wondering: _How, an endless succession of time in God_! Why
not? _God’s mercy endureth for ever_, and surely God endureth as
long as his mercy; therefore there is duration in God, and
consequently endless succession of time. _God who in sundry times
and divers manners spake in time past_, &c. But in a former dispute
with me about free-will, he hath defined eternity to be _nunc
stans_, that is an _ever standing now_, or _everlasting instant_.
This he thinks himself bound in honour to defend. What reasonable
soul can digest this? We read in Scripture, that a thousand years
with God, is but as yesterday. And why? but because he sees as
clearly to the end of a thousand years, as to the end of a day. But
his Lordship affirms, that both a thousand years and a day are but
one instant, the same _standing now_, or eternity. If he had showed
an holy text for this doctrine, or any text of the book of _Common
Prayer_ (in the Scripture and book of _Common Prayer_ is contained
all our religion), I had yielded to him; but School-divinity I value
little or nothing at all. Though in this he contradict also the
School-men, who say the soul is eternal only _a parte post_, but God
is eternal both _a parte post_, and _a parte ante_. Thus there are
parts in eternity; and eternity being, as his Lordship says, the
Divine substance, the Divine substance has parts, and _nunc stans_
has parts. Is not this darkness? I take it to be the kingdom of
darkness, and the teachers of it (especially of this doctrine, that
God, who is not only _optimus_, but also _maximus_, is no greater
than to be wholly contained in the least atom of earth, or other
body, and that his whole duration is but an instant of time) to be
either grossly ignorant or ungodly deceivers.
_J. D._ Our God is a perfect, pure, simple, indivisible, infinite
essence; free from all composition of matter and form, of
substance and accidents. All matter is finite, and he who acteth
by his infinite essence, needeth neither organs nor faculties (_id
est_, _no power, note that_), nor accidents, to render him more
complete. But T. H. his God is a divisible God, a compounded God,
that hath matter, or qualities, or accidents. Hear himself. I
argue thus: _The Divine substance is indivisible; but eternity is
the Divine substance. The major is evident, because God is_ actus
simplicissimus; _the minor is confessed by all men, that
whatsoever is attributed to God, is God_. Now listen to his
answer: _The major is so far from being evident, that_ actus
simplicissimus _signifieth nothing. The minor is said by some men,
thought by no man; whatsoever is thought is understood._ The major
was this, _the Divine substance is indivisible_. Is this far from
being evident? Either it is indivisible, or divisible. If it be
not indivisible, then it is divisible, then it is materiate, then
it is corporeal, then it hath parts, then it is finite by his own
confession. _Habere partes, aut esse totum aliquid, sunt attributa
finitorum._ Upon this silly conceit he chargeth me for saying,
that _God is not just_, but justice itself; not eternal, but
eternity itself; which he calleth _unseemly words to be said of
God_. And he thinketh he doth me a great courtesy in not adding
_blasphemous and atheistical_. But his bolts are so soon shot, and
his reasons are such vain imaginations, and such drowsy
phantasies, that no sober man doth much regard them. Thus he hath
already destroyed the ubiquity, the eternity, and the simplicity
of God. I wish he had considered better with himself, before he
had desperately cast himself upon these rocks.
But _paulo majora canamus_. My next charge is, that he destroys the
very being of God, and leaves nothing in his place, but an empty
name. For by taking away all incorporeal substances, he taketh away
God himself. The very name, saith he, of an incorporeal substance,
is a _contradiction_. And _to say that an angel or spirit, is an
incorporeal substance, is to say in effect, that there is no angel
or spirit at all_. By the same reason to say, that God is an
incorporeal substance, is to say there is no God at all. Either God
is incorporeal; or he is finite, and consists of parts, and
consequently is no God. This, that there is no incorporeal spirit,
is that main root of atheism, from which so many lesser branches are
daily sprouting up.
_T. H._ God is indeed a perfect, pure, simple, infinite substance;
and his name incommunicable, that is to say, not divisible into this
and that individual God, in such manner as the name of man is
divisible into Peter and John. And therefore God is individual;
which word amongst the Greeks is expressed by the word indivisible.
Certain heretics in the primitive church, because special and
individual are called particulars, maintained that Christ was a
particular God, differing in number from God the Father. And this
was the doctrine that was condemned for heresy in the first council
of Nice, by these words, _God hath no parts_. And yet many of the
Latin fathers, in their explications of the Nicene creed, have
expounded the word _consubstantial_, by the community of
nature, which different species have in their genus, and
different individuals in the species; as if Peter and John were
_consubstantial_, because they agree in one human nature; which is
contrary, I confess, to the meaning of the Nice fathers. But that in
a substance infinitely great, it should be impossible to consider
any thing as not infinite, I do not see it there condemned. For
certainly he that thinks God is in every part of the church, does
not exclude him out of the churchyard. And is not this a considering
of him by parts? For dividing a thing which we cannot reach nor
separate one part thereof from another, is nothing else but
considering of the same by parts. So much concerning indivisibility
from natural reason; for I will wade no further, but rely upon the
Scriptures. God is nowhere said in the Scriptures to be indivisible,
unless his Lordship meant division to consist only in separation of
parts, which I think he did not. St. Paul indeed saith (1 Cor. i.
13): _Is Christ divided?_ Not that the followers of Paul, Apollos,
and Cephas, followed some one part, some another of Christ; but that
thinking differently of his nature, they made as it were different
kinds of him. Secondly, his Lordship expounds simplicity, by not
being compounded of matter and form, or of substance and accidents,
unlearnedly. For nothing can be so compounded. The matter of a
_chair_ is _wood_; the form is the figure it hath, apt for the
intended use. Does his Lordship think the chair compounded of the
wood and the figure? A man is rational: does it therefore follow
that reason is a part of the man? It was Aristotle deceived him, who
told him that _a rational living creature_, is the definition of a
man, and that the definition of a man was his essence; and therefore
the Bishop and other Schoolmen, from this that the word rational is
a part of these words, _man is a rational living creature_,
concluded that the essence of man was a part of the man, and a
_rational man_ the same thing with a rational soul. I should wonder
how any man, much more a doctor of divinity, should be so grossly
deceived, but that I know naturally the generality of men speak the
words of their masters by rote, without having any ideas of the
things, which the words signify. Lastly, he calls God an _essence_.
If he mean by _essence_ the same with _ens_, τὸ ὄν, I approve it.
Otherwise, what is _essence_? There is no such word in the Old
Testament. The Hebrew language, which has no word answerable to the
copulative _est_, will not bear it. The New Testament hath οὐσία,
but never for _essence_, nor for _substance_, but only for riches. I
come now to his argument in mood and figure, which is this, _the
Divine substance is indivisible_. That is the _major_. _Eternity is
the Divine substance._ That is the _minor_. _Ergo_, the Divine
substance is indivisible. The major, he says, is evident, because
God is _actus simplicissimus_. The minor is confessed, he thinks, by
all men, because whatsoever is attributed to God, is God. To this I
answered, that the major was so far from being evident, that _actus
simplicissimus_ signifieth nothing, and that the minor was
understood by no man. First, what is _actus_ in the _major_? Does
any man understand _actus_ for a substance, that is, for a thing
subsisting by itself? Is not _actus_, in English, either an _act_ or
an _action_, or nothing? Or is any of these _substance_? If it be
evident, why did he not explain _actus_ by a definition? And as to
the minor, though all men in the world understand that the _Eternal_
is God, yet no man can understand that the _eternity_ is God.
Perhaps he and the Schoolmen mean by _actus_, the same that they do
by _essentia_. What is the _essence_ of a _man_, but his _humanity_;
or of God, but his _Deity_; of _great_, but _greatness_; and so of
all other denominating attributes? And the words, God and Deity, are
of different signification. John Damascene, a father of the church,
expounding the Nicene creed, denies plainly that the Deity was
incarnate; but all true Christians hold that God was incarnate.
Therefore God and the Deity signify divers things; and therefore
_eternal_ and _eternity_ are not the same, no more than a wise man
and his wisdom are the same; nor God and his justice the same thing:
and universally it is false, that the attribute in the abstract is
the same with the substance, to which it is attributed. Also it is
universally true of God, that the attribute in the concrete, and the
substance to which it is attributed, is not the same thing.
I come now to his next period or paragraph, wherein he would fain
prove, that by denying incorporeal substance, I take away God’s
existence. The words he cites here are mine: _to say an angel or
spirit is an incorporeal substance, is to say in effect there is no
angel nor spirit at all_. It is true also, that to say that God is
an incorporeal substance, is to say in effect there is no God at
all. What alleges he against it, but the School-divinity which I
have already answered? Scripture he can bring none, because the word
incorporeal is not found in Scripture. But the Bishop, trusting to
his Aristotelian and Scholastic learning, hath hitherto made no use
of Scripture, save only of these texts: 1 Cor. ix. 7: _Who hath
planted a vineyard, and eateth not of the fruit thereof; or who
feedeth a flock, and eateth not of the milk of the flock?_ and Rev.
iv. 11: _Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory, honour, and
power: for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they
were created_: thereby to prove that the right of God to govern and
punish mankind is not derived from his omnipotence. Let us now see
how he proves incorporeity by his own reason without Scripture.
_Either God_, he saith, _is incorporeal or finite_. He knows I deny
both, and say he is _corporeal_ and _infinite_: against which he
offers no proof, but only, according to his custom of disputing,
calls it the root of atheism; and interrogates me, what real thing
is left in the world, if God be incorporeal, but body and accidents?
I say there is nothing left but corporeal substance. For I have
denied, as he knew, that there is any reality in accidents; and
nevertheless maintain God’s existence, and that he is a most pure,
and most simple corporeal spirit. Here his Lordship catching
nothing, removes to the eternity of the Trinity, which these my
grounds, he says, destroy. How so? I say the Trinity, and the
persons thereof, are that one pure, simple, and eternal corporeal
spirit; and why does this destroy the Trinity, more than if I had
called it incorporeal? He labours here and seeketh somewhat to
refresh himself in the word _person_; _by the same grounds_, he
saith, _every king hath as many persons as there be justices of
peace in his kingdom, and God Almighty hath as many persons as there
be kings_. Why not? For I never said that all those kings were that
God; and yet God giveth that name to the kings of the earth. For the
signification of the word _person_, I shall expound it by and by in
another place. Here ends his Lordship’s School-argument; now let me
come with my Scripture-argument. St. Paul, concerning Christ (Col.
ii. 9) saith thus: _In him dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead
bodily_. This place Athanasius, a great and zealous doctor in the
Nicene Council, and vehement enemy of Arius the heretic, who allowed
Christ to be no otherwise God, than as men of excellent piety were
so called, expoundeth thus: _The fulness of the Godhead dwelleth in
him bodily_, (Greek σωματικῶς), _id est_ θεϊκῶς, _id est, realiter_.
So there is one Father for corporality, and that God was in Christ
in such manner as body is in body. Again, there were in the
primitive church a sort of heretics who maintained that Jesus Christ
had not a true real body, but was only a phantasm or spright, such
as the Latins call _spectra_. Against the head of this sect, whose
name I think was Apelles, Tertullian wrote a book, now extant
amongst his other works, intituled _De Carne Christi_; wherein after
he had spoken of the nature of phantasms, and showed that they had
nothing of reality in them, he concludeth with these words,
“whatsoever is not _body_, is _nothing_.” So here is on my side a
plain text of Scripture, and two ancient and learned Fathers. Nor
was this doctrine of Tertullian condemned in the Council of Nice;
but the division of the divine substance into God the Father, God
the Son, and God the Holy Ghost. For these words, _God has no
parts_, were added, for explication of the word _consubstantial_, at
the request of the dissenting Fathers, and are further explained
both in Athanasius his creed, in these words, _not three Gods but
one God_, and by the constant attribute ever since of the
_individual_ Trinity. The same words nevertheless do condemn the
Anthropomorphites also; for though there appeared no Christians that
professed that God had an organical body, and consequently that the
persons were three individuals, yet the Gentiles were all
Anthropomorphites, and there condemned by these words, _God has no
parts_.
And thus I have answered his accusation concerning the eternity and
existence of the Divine substance, and made it appear that in truth,
the question between us, is whether God be a phantasm (_id est_, an
idol of the fancy, which St. Paul saith is nothing) or a corporeal
spirit, that is to say, something that has magnitude.
In this place I think it not amiss, leaving for a little while this
theological dispute, to examine the signification of those words
which have occasioned so much diversity of opinion in this kind of
doctrine.
The word _substance_, in Greek ὑπόστασις, ὑποσταν, ὑποσταμενον,
signify the same thing, namely, a ground, a base, any thing that has
existence or subsistence _in itself_, anything that upholdeth that
which else would fall, in which sense God is properly the
hypostasis, base, and substance that upholdeth all the world, having
subsistence not only _in himself_, but _from himself_; whereas other
substances have their subsistence only in themselves, not from
themselves. But metaphorically, faith is called (Heb. xi. 1) a
substance, because it is the foundation or base of our hope; for
faith failing, our hope falls. And (2 Cor. ix. 4) St. Paul having
boasted of the liberal promise of the Corinthians towards the
Macedonians, calls that promise the ground, the hypostasis of that
his boasting. And (Heb. i. 3) Christ is called the image of the
substance (the hypostasis) of his Father, and for the proper and
adequate signification of the word hypostasis, the Greek Fathers did
always oppose it to apparition or phantasm; as when a man seeth his
face in the water, his real face is called the hypostasis of the
phantastic face in the water. So also in speaking, the thing
understood or named is called hypostasis, in respect of the name; so
also a body coloured is the hypostasis, substance and subject of the
colour; and in like manner of all its other accidents. Essence and
all other abstract names, are words artificial belonging to the art
of logic, and signify only the manner how we consider the substance
itself. And of this I have spoken sufficiently in my _Leviathan_
(vol. III. page 672). _Body_ (Latin, _corpus_, σῶμα) is that
substance which hath magnitude indeterminate, and is the same with
corporeal substance; but _a body_ is that which hath magnitude
determinate, and consequently is understood to be _totum_ or
_integrum aliquid_. _Pure_ and _simple body_, is body of one and the
same kind, in every part throughout; and if mingled with body of
another kind, though the total be compounded or mixed, the parts
nevertheless retain their simplicity, as when water and wine are
mixed, the parts of both kinds retain their simplicity. For water
and wine can not both be in one and the same place at once.
_Matter_ is the same with _body_; but never without respect to a
body which is made thereof. _Form_ is the aggregate of all accidents
together, for which we give the matter a new name; so _albedo_,
_whiteness_, is the form of _album_, or _white body_. So also
humanity is the essence of man, and Deity the essence of Deus.
Spirit is thin, fluid, transparent, invisible body. The word in
Latin signifies breath, air, wind, and the like. In Greek πνεῡμα
from πνέω, _spiro_, _flo_.
I have seen, and so have many more, two waters, one of the river,
the other a mineral water, so like that no man could discern the one
from the other by his sight; yet when they have been both put
together, the whole substance could not by the eye be distinguished
from milk. Yet we know that the one was not mixed with the other, so
as every part of the one to be in every part of the other, for that
is impossible, unless two bodies can be in the same place. How then
could the change be made in every part, but only by the activity of
the mineral water, changing it every where to the sense, and yet not
being every where, and in every part of the water? If then such
gross bodies have so great activity, what shall we think of spirits,
whose kinds be as many as there be kinds of liquor, and activity
greater? Can it then be doubted, but that God, who is an infinitely
fine Spirit, and withal intelligent, can make and change all species
and kinds of body as he pleaseth? But I dare not say, that this is
the way by which God Almighty worketh, because it is past my
apprehension: yet it serves very well to demonstrate, that the
omnipotence of God implieth no contradiction; and is better than by
pretence of magnifying the fineness of the Divine substance, to
reduce it to a spright or phantasm, which is nothing.
A _person_ (Latin, _persona_) signifies an intelligent substance,
that acteth any thing in his own or another’s name, or by his own or
another’s authority. Of this definition there can be no other proof
than from the use of that word, in such Latin authors as were
esteemed the most skilful in their own language, of which number was
Cicero. But Cicero, in an epistle to Atticus, saith thus: _Unus
sustineo tres personas, mei, adversarii, et judicis_: that is, “I
that am but one man, sustain three persons; mine own person, the
person of my adversary, and the person of the judge.” Cicero was
here the substance intelligent, one man; and because he pleaded for
himself, he calls himself his own person: and again, because he
pleaded for his adversary, he says, he sustained the person of his
adversary: and lastly, because he himself gave the sentence, he
says, he sustained the person of the judge. In the same sense we use
the word in English vulgarly, calling him that acteth by his own
authority, his own person, and him that acteth by the authority of
another, the person of that other. And thus we have the exact
meaning of the word _person_. The Greek tongue cannot render it; for
πρὸσωπον is properly a face, and, metaphorically, a vizard of an
actor upon the stage. How then did the Greek Fathers render the word
_person_, as it is in the blessed Trinity? Not well. Instead of the
word _person_ they put _hypostasis_, which signifies substance; from
whence it might be inferred, that the three persons in the Trinity
are three Divine substances, that is, three Gods. The word πρὸσωπον
they could not use, because face and vizard are neither of them
honourable attributes of God, nor explicative of the meaning of the
Greek church. Therefore the Latin (and consequently the English)
church, renders _hypostasis_ every where in Athanasius his creed by
_person_. But the word _hypostatical union_ is rightly retained and
used by divines, as being the union of two hypostases, that is, of
two substances or natures in the person of Christ. But seeing they
also hold the soul of our Saviour to be a substance, which, though
separated from his body, subsisted nevertheless in itself, and
consequently, before it was separated from his body upon the cross,
was a distinct nature from his body, how will they avoid this
objection, that then Christ had three natures, three hypostases,
without granting, that _his resurrection was a new vivification, and
not a return of his soul out of Heaven into the grave_? The contrary
is not determined by the church. Thus far in explication of the
words that occur in this controversy. Now I return again to his
Lordship’s discourse.
_J. D._ When they have taken away all incorporeal spirits, what do
they leave God himself to be? He who is the fountain of all being,
from whom and in whom all creatures have their being, must needs
have a real being of his own. And what real being can God have among
bodies and accidents? For they have left nothing else in the
universe. Then T. H. may move the same question of God, which he did
of devils. _I would gladly know in what classes of entities, the
Bishop ranketh God?_ Infinite being and participated being are not
of the same nature. Yet to speak according to human apprehension,
(apprehension and comprehension differ much: T. H. confesseth that
natural reason doth dictate to us, that God is infinite, yet natural
reason cannot comprehend the infiniteness of God) I place him among
incorporeal substances or spirits, because he hath been pleased to
place himself in that rank, _God is a Spirit_. Of which place T. H.
giveth his opinion, that it is unintelligible, and all others of the
same nature, _and fall not under human understanding_.
They who deny all incorporeal substances, can understand nothing by
God, but either nature, (not _naturam naturantem_, that is, a real
author of nature, but _naturam naturatam_, that is, the orderly
concourse of natural causes, as T. H. seemeth to intimate,) or a
fiction of the brain, without real being, cherished for advantage
and politic ends, as a profitable error, howsoever dignified with
the glorious title of _the eternal cause of all things_.
_T. H._ To his Lordship’s question here: _What I leave God to be?_
I answer, I leave him to be a most pure, simple, invisible spirit
corporeal. By corporeal I mean a substance that has magnitude, and
so mean all learned men, divines and others, though perhaps there
be some common people so rude as to call nothing body, but what
they can see and feel. To his second question: _What real being He
can have amongst bodies and accidents?_ I answer, the being of a
spirit, not of a spright. If I should ask any the most subtile
distinguisher, what middle nature there were between an infinitely
subtile substance, and a mere thought or phantasm, by what name
could he call it? He might call it perhaps an incorporeal
substance; and so _incorporeal_ shall pass for a middle nature
between _infinitely subtile_ and _nothing_, and be less subtile
than infinitely subtile, and yet more subtile than a thought. It
is granted, he says, that the nature of God is incomprehensible.
Doth it therefore follow, that we may give to the Divine substance
what negative name we please? Because he says, the whole Divine
substance is here and there and every where throughout the world,
and that the soul of a man is here and there and every where
throughout man’s body; must we therefore take it for a mystery of
Christian religion, upon his or any other Schoolman’s word,
without the Scripture, which calls nothing a mystery but the
incarnation of the eternal God? Or is incorporeal a mystery, when
not at all mentioned in the Bible, but to the contrary it is
written, _That the fulness of the Deity was bodily in Christ_?
When the nature of the thing is incomprehensible, I can acquiesce
in the Scripture: but when the signification of words is
incomprehensible, I cannot acquiesce in the authority of a
Schoolman.
_J. D._ We have seen what his principles are concerning the Deity,
they are full as bad or worse concerning the Trinity. Hear himself:
_A person is he that is represented as often as he is represented.
And therefore God who has been represented, that is personated
thrice, may properly enough be said to be three persons, though
neither the word Person nor Trinity be ascribed to him in the
Bible._ And a little after: _To conclude, the doctrine of the
Trinity, as far as can be gathered directly from the Scripture, is
in substance this, that the God who is always one and the same, was
the person represented by Moses, the person represented by his Son
incarnate, and the person represented by the apostles. As
represented by the apostles, the holy spirit by which they spake is
God. As represented by his Son, that was God and man, the Son is
that God. As represented by Moses and the High-priests, the Father,
that is to say, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, is that God.
From whence we may gather the reason why those names, Father, Son,
and Holy Ghost, in the signification of the Godhead, are never used
in the Old Testament. For they are persons, that is, they have their
names from representing, which could not be till divers persons had
represented God, in ruling or in directing under him._
Who is so bold as blind Bayard? The emblem of a little boy
attempting to lade all the water out of the sea with a cockle-shell,
doth fit T. H. as exactly as if it had been shaped for him, who
thinketh to measure the profound and inscrutable mysteries of
religion, by his own silly, shallow conceits. What is now become of
the great adorable mystery of the blessed undivided Trinity? It is
shrunk into nothing. Upon his grounds there was a time when there
was no Trinity: and we must blot these words out of our creed, _the
Father eternal, the Son eternal, and the Holy Ghost eternal_: and
these other words out of our Bibles, _Let us make man after our
image_: unless we mean that this was a consultation of God with
Moses and the apostles. What is now become of the eternal generation
of the Son of God, if this sonship did not begin until about four
thousand years after the creation were expired? Upon these grounds
every king hath as many _persons_, as there be justices of peace and
petty constables in his kingdom. Upon this account God Almighty hath
as many _persons_, as there have been sovereign princes in the world
since Adam. According to this reckoning each one of us, like so many
Geryons, may have as many _persons_ as we please to make
procurations. Such bold presumption requireth another manner of
confutation.
_T. H._ As for the words recited, I confess there is a fault in the
ratiocination, which nevertheless his Lordship hath not discovered,
but no impiety. All that he objecteth is, that it followeth
hereupon, that there be as many persons of a king, as there be petty
constables in his kingdom. And so there are, or else he cannot be
obeyed. But I never said that a king, and every one of his persons,
are the same substance. The fault I here made, and saw not, was
this; I was to prove that it is no contradiction, as Lucian and
heathen scoffers would have it, to say of God, he was one and three.
I saw the true definition of the word _person_ would serve my turn
in this manner; God, in his own person, both created the world, and
instituted a church in Israel, using therein the ministry of Moses:
the same God, in the person of his Son God and man, redeemed the
same world, and the same church; the same God, in the person of the
Holy Ghost, sanctified the same church, and all the faithful men in
the world. Is not this a clear proof that it is no contradiction to
say that God is three persons and one substance? And doth not the
church distinguish the persons in the same manner? See the words of
our catechism. Question. _What dost thou chiefly learn in these
articles of thy belief?_ Answer. _First, I learn to believe in God
the Father, that hath made me and all the world; Secondly, in God
the Son, who hath redeemed me and all mankind; Thirdly, in God the
Holy Ghost, that hath sanctified me and all the elect people of
God._ But at what time was the church sanctified? Was it not on the
day of Pentecost, in the descending of the Holy Ghost upon the
apostles? His Lordship all this while hath catched nothing. It is I
that catched myself, for saying, instead of _by the ministry of
Moses_, in the person of Moses. But this error I no sooner saw, than
I no less publicly corrected than I had committed it, in my
_Leviathan_ converted into Latin, which by this time I think is
printed beyond the seas with this alteration, and also with the
omission of some such passages as strangers are not concerned in.
And I had corrected this error sooner, if I had sooner found it. For
though I was told by Dr. Cosins, now Bishop of Durham, that the
place above-cited was not applicable enough to the doctrine of the
Trinity, yet I could not in reviewing the same espy the defect, till
of late, when being solicited from beyond sea, to translate the book
into Latin, and fearing some other man might do it not to my liking,
I examined this passage and others of the like sense more narrowly.
But how concludes his Lordship out of this, that I put out of the
creed these words, _the Father eternal, the Son eternal, the Holy
Ghost eternal_? Or these words, _let us make man after our image_,
out of the Bible? Which last words neither I nor Bellarmine put out
of the Bible, but we both put them out of the number of good
arguments to prove the Trinity; for it is no unusual thing in the
Hebrew, as may be seen by Bellarmine’s quotations, to join a noun of
the plural number with a verb of the singular. And we may say also
of many other texts of Scripture alleged to prove the Trinity, that
they are not so firm as that high article requireth. But mark his
Lordship’s Scholastic charity in the last words of this period:
_such bold presumption requireth another manner of confutation_.
This bishop, and others of his opinion, had been in their element,
if they had been bishops in Queen Mary’s time.
_J. D._ Concerning God the Son, forgetting what he had said
elsewhere, where he calleth him _God and man_, and _the Son of God
incarnate_, he doubteth not to say, that _the word_ hypostatical _is
canting_. As if the same person could be both God and man without a
personal, that is, an hypostatical union of the two natures of God
and man.
_T. H._ If Christian profession be (as certainly it is in England) a
law; and if it be of the nature of a law to be made known to all men
that are to obey it, in such manner as they may have no excuse for
disobedience from their ignorance; then, without doubt, all words
unknown to the people, and as to them insignificant, are canting.
The word _substance_ is understood by the vulgar well enough, when
it is said of a body, but in other sense not at all, except for
their riches. But the word _hypostatical_ is understood only by
those, and but few of those that are learned in the Greek tongue,
and is properly used, as I have said before, of the union of the two
natures of Christ in one person. So likewise _consubstantial_ in the
Nicene creed, is properly said of the Trinity. But to an Englishman
that understands neither Greek nor Latin, and yet is as much
concerned as his Lordship was, the word _hypostatical_ is no less
canting than _eternal now_.
_J. D._ He alloweth every man who is commanded by his lawful
sovereign, _to deny Christ with his tongue before men_.
_T. H._ I allow it in some cases, and to some men, which his
Lordship knew well enough, but would not mention. I alleged for it,
in the place cited, both reason and Scripture, though his Lordship
thought it not expedient to take notice of either. If it be true
that I have said, why does he blame it? If false, why offers he no
argument against it, neither from Scripture nor from reason? Or why
does he not show that the text I cite is not applicable to the
question, or not well interpreted by me? First, he barely cites it,
because he thought the words would sound harshly, and make a reader
admire them for impiety. But I hope I shall so well instruct my
reader ere I leave this place, that this his petty art will have no
effect. Secondly, the cause why he omitted my arguments was, that he
could not answer them. Lastly, the cause why he urgeth neither
Scripture nor reason against it was, that he saw none sufficient. My
argument from Scripture was this, (_Leviathan_, vol. III. p. 493)
taken out of 2 Kings v. 17-19, where Naaman the Syrian saith to
Elisha the prophet: _Thy servant will henceforth offer neither
burnt-offering nor sacrifice to other Gods, but unto the Lord. In
this thing the Lord pardon thy servant, that when my master goeth
into the house of Rimmon to worship there, and he leaneth on my
hand, and I bow myself in the house of Rimmon: when I bow myself in
the house of Rimmon, the Lord pardon thy servant in this thing. And
he said unto him, Go in peace._ What can be said to this? Did not
Elisha say it from God? Or is not this answer of the prophet a
permission? When St. Paul and St. Peter commanded the Christians of
their time to obey their princes, which then were heathens and
enemies of Christ, did they mean they should lose their lives for
disobedience? Did they not rather mean they should preserve both
their lives and their faith, believing in Christ as they did, by
this denial of the tongue, having no command to the contrary? If in
this kingdom a Mahometan should be made by terror to deny Mahomet
and go to church with us, would any man condemn this Mahometan? A
denial with the mouth may perhaps be prejudicial to the power of the
church; but to retain the faith of Christ stedfastly in his heart,
cannot be prejudicial to his soul that hath undertaken no charge to
preach to wolves, whom they know will destroy them. About the time
of the Council of Nice, there was a canon made (which is extant in
the history of the Nicene Council) concerning those that being
Christians had been seduced, not terrified, to a denial of Christ,
and again repenting, desired to be readmitted into the church; in
which canon it was ordained, that those men should be no otherwise
readmitted than to be in the number of the cathechised, and not to
be admitted to the communion till a great many years' penitence.
Surely the church then would have been more merciful to them that
did the same upon terror of present death and torments.
Let us now see what his Lordship might, though but colourably, have
alleged from Scripture against it. There be three places only that
seem to favour his Lordship’s opinion. The first is where Peter
denied Christ, and weepeth. The second is, Acts v. 29: _Then Peter
and the other Apostles answered and said, we ought to obey God
rather than men_. The third is, Luke xii. 9: _But he that denieth me
before men, shall be denied before the angels of God_.
For answer to these texts, I must repeat what what I have written,
and his Lordship read in my _Leviathan_, p. 656. _For an unlearned
man that is in the power of an idolatrous king, or state, if
commanded on pain of death to worship before an idol, doing it, he
detesteth the idol in his heart, he doth well; though if he had the
fortitude to suffer death, rather than worship it, he should do
better. But if a pastor, who, as Christ’s messenger, has undertaken
to teach Christ’s doctrine to all nations, should do the same, it
were not only a sinful scandal in respect of other Christian men’s
consciences, but a perfidious forsaking of his charge._ In which
words I distinguish between a pastor and one of the sheep of his
flock. St. Peter sinned in denying Christ; and so does every pastor,
that denieth Christ, having undertaken the charge of preaching the
gospel in the kingdom of an infidel, where he could expect at the
undertaking of his charge no less than death. And why, but because
he violates his trust in doing contrary to his commission. St. Peter
was an apostle of Christ, and bound by his voluntary undertaking of
that office not only to confess Christ, but also to preach him
before those infidels who, he knew, would like wolves devour him.
And therefore, when Paul and the rest of the apostles were forbidden
to preach Christ, they gave this answer, _We ought to obey God
rather than men_. And it was to his disciples only which had
undertaken that office, that Christ saith, _he that denieth me
before men, shall be denied before the angels of God_. And so I
think I have sufficiently answered this place, and showed that I do
not allow the denying of Christ, upon any colour of torments, to his
Lordship, nor to any other that has undertaken the office of a
preacher. Which if he think right, he will perhaps in this case put
himself into the number of those whom he calls merciful doctors:
whereas now he extends his severity beyond the bounds of common
equity. He has read Cicero, and perhaps this story in him. The
senate of Rome would have sent Cicero to treat of peace with Marcus
Antonius; but when Cicero had showed them the just fear he had of
being killed by him, he was excused; and if they had forced him to
it, and he by terror turned enemy to them, he had in equity been
excusable. But his Lordship, I believe, did write this more
valiantly than he would have acted it.
_J. D._ He deposeth Christ from his true kingly office, making his
_kingdom not to commence or begin before the day of judgment_. And
_the regimen, wherewith Christ governeth his faithful in this life,
is not properly a kingdom, but a pastoral office, or a right to
teach_. And a little after, _Christ had not kingly authority
committed to him by his Father in this world, but only consiliary
and doctrinal_.
_T. H._ How do I take away Christ’s kingly office? He neither draws
it by consequence from my words, nor offers any argument at all
against my doctrine. The words he cites are in the contents of chap.
XVII. De Cive (vol. II). In the body of the chapter it is thus: _The
time of Christ’s being upon the earth is called, in Scripture, the
regeneration often, but the kingdom never. When the Son of God comes
in majesty, and all the angels with him, then he shall sit on the
seat of majesty. My kingdom is not of this world. God sent not his
Son that he should judge the world. I came not to judge the world,
but to save the world. Man, who made me a judge or divider amongst
you? Let thy kingdom come._ And other words to the same purpose. Out
of which it is clear that Christ took upon him no regal power upon
earth before his assumption. But at his assumption his Apostles
asked him if he would then restore the kingdom to Israel, and he
answered, it was not for them to know. So that hitherto Christ had
not taken that office upon him, unless his Lordship think that the
kingdom of God, and the kingdom of Christ, be two distinct kingdoms.
From the Assumption ever since, all true Christians say daily in
their prayers, _Thy kingdom come_. But his Lordship had perhaps
forgot that. But when then beginneth Christ to be a king? I say it
shall be then, when he comes again in majesty with all the angels.
And even then he shall reign (as he is man) under his Father. For
St. Paul saith (1 Cor. xv. 25, 26): _He must reign till he hath put
all enemies under his feet; the last enemy that shall be destroyed,
is death_. But when shall God the Father reign again? St. Paul saith
in the same chapter, verse 28: _When all things shall be subdued
unto him, then shall the Son also himself be subject unto him that
put all things under him, that God may be all in all_. And verse 24:
_Then cometh the end, when he shall have delivered up the kingdom to
God, even the Father; when he shall have put down all rule,
authority, and power_. This is at the resurrection. And by this it
is manifest, that his Lordship was not so well versed in Scripture
as he ought to have been.
_J. D._ He taketh away his priestly or propitiatory office. _And
although this act of our redemption be not always in Scripture
called a sacrifice and oblation, but sometimes a price; yet by price
we are not to understand anything, by the value whereof he could
claim right to a pardon for us from his offended Father, but that
price which God the Father was pleased in mercy to demand._ And
again: _Not that the death of one man, though without sin, can
satisfy for the offences of all men in the rigour of justice, but in
the mercy of God, that ordained such sacrifices for sin, as he was
pleased in mercy to accept_. He knoweth no difference between one
who is mere man, and one who was both God and man; between a
Levitical sacrifice, and the all-sufficient sacrifice of the cross;
between the blood of a calf, and the precious blood of the Son of
God.
_T. H._ Yes, I know there is a difference between blood and blood,
but not any such as can make a difference in the case here
questioned. Our Saviour’s blood was most precious, but still it was
human blood; and I hope his Lordship did never think otherwise, or
that it was not accepted by his Father for our redemption.
_J. D._ And touching the prophetical office of Christ, I do much
doubt whether he do believe in earnest, that there is any such thing
as prophecy in the world. He maketh very little difference between a
_prophet_ and a _madman_, and a _demoniac_. _And if there were
nothing else_, says he, _that bewrayed their madness, yet that very
arrogating such inspiration to themselves is argument enough_. He
maketh the pretence of inspiration in any man to be, and always to
have been, _an opinion pernicious to peace, and tending to the
dissolution of all civil government_. He subjecteth all prophetical
revelations from God, to the sole pleasure and censure of the
sovereign prince, either to authorize them, or to exauctorate them.
So as two prophets prophecying the same thing at the same time, in
the dominions of two different princes, the one shall be a true
prophet, the other a false. And Christ, who had the approbation of
no sovereign prince, upon his grounds, was to be reputed a false
prophet everywhere. _Every man therefore ought to consider who is
the sovereign prophet; that is to say, who it is that is God’s
vicegerent upon earth, and hath next under God the authority of
governing Christian men; and to observe for a rule that doctrine,
which in the name of God he hath commanded to be taught, and thereby
to examine and try out the truth of those doctrines which pretended
prophets, with miracle or without, shall at any time advance_, &c.
_And if he disavow them, then no more to obey their voice; or if he
approve them, then to obey them as men, to whom God hath given a
part of the Spirit of their sovereign._ Upon his principles the case
holdeth as well among Jews and Turks and Heathens, as Christians.
Then he that teacheth transubstantiation in France, is a true
prophet; he that teacheth it in England, a false prophet; he that
blasphemeth Christ in Constantinople, a true prophet; he that doth
the same in Italy, a false prophet. Then Samuel was a false prophet
to contest with Saul, a sovereign prophet: so was the man of God,
who submitted not to the more Divine and prophetic spirit of
Jeroboam. And Elijah for reproving Ahab. Then Micaiah had but his
deserts, to be clapped up in prison, and fed with bread of
affliction, and water of affliction, for daring to contradict _God’s
vicegerent upon earth_. And Jeremiah was justly thrown into a
dungeon, for prophecying against Zedekiah his liege lord. If his
principles were true, it were strange indeed, that none of all these
princes, nor any other that ever was in the world, should understand
their own privileges. And yet more strange, that God Almighty should
take the part of such rebellious prophets, and justify their
prophesies by the event, if it were true that _none but the
sovereign in a Christian_ (the reason is the same for Jewish)
_commonwealth, can take notice, what is or what is not the word of
God_.
_T. H._ To remove his Lordship’s doubt in the first place, I confess
there was true prophesy and true prophets in the church of God, from
Abraham down to our Saviour, the greatest prophet of all, and the
last of the Old Testament, and first of the New. After our Saviour’s
time, till the death of St. John the apostle, there were true
prophets in the church of Christ, prophets to whom God spake
supernaturally, and testified the truth of their mission by
miracles. Of those that in the Scripture are called prophets without
miracles, (and for this cause only, that they spake in the name of
God to men, and in the name of men to God), there are, have been,
and shall be in the church, innumerable. Such a prophet was his
Lordship, and such are all pastors in the Christian church. But the
question here is of those prophets that from the mouth of God
foretell things future, or do other miracle. Of this kind I deny
there has been any since the death of St. John the Evangelist. If
any man find fault with this, he ought to name some man or other,
whom we are bound to acknowledge that they have done a miracle, cast
out a devil, or cured any disease by the sole invocation of the
Divine Majesty. We are not bound to trust to the legend of the Roman
saints, nor to the history written by Sulpitius of the life of St.
Martin, or to any other fables of the Roman clergy, nor to such
things as were pretended to be done by some divines here in the time
of king James. Secondly, he says I make little difference between a
_prophet_, and a _madman_ or _demoniac_; to which I say, he accuses
me falsely. I say only thus much, _that I see nothing at all in the
Scripture that requireth a belief, that demoniacs were any other
thing than madmen_. And this is also made very probable out of
Scripture, by a worthy divine, Mr. Mede. But concerning prophets, I
say only that the Jews, both under the Old Testament and under the
New, took them to be all one with _madmen_ and _demoniacs_; and
prove it out of Scripture by many places, both of the Old and New
Testament. Thirdly, that the pretence or arrogating to one’s-self
Divine inspiration, is argument enough to show a man is _mad_, is my
opinion; but his Lordship understands not _inspiration_ in the same
sense that I do. He understands it properly of God’s breathing into
a man, or pouring into him the Divine substance, or Divine graces.
And in that sense, he that arrogateth inspiration unto himself,
neither understands what he saith, nor makes others to understand
him: which is properly madness in some degree. But I understand
_inspiration_ in the Scripture metaphorically, for God’s guidance of
our minds to truth and piety. Fourthly, whereas he says, I make the
pretence of _inspiration_ to be pernicious to peace; I answer, that
I think his Lordship was of my opinion; for he called those men,
which in the late civil war pretended the spirit, and new light, and
to be the only faithful men, _fanatics_; for he called them in his
book, and did call them in his life-time, _fanatics_. And what is a
_fanatic_ but a _madman_? And what can be more pernicious to peace,
than the revelations that were by these _fanatics_ pretended? I do
not say there were not doctrines of other men, not called
_fanatics_, as pernicious to peace as their’s were, and in great
part a cause of those troubles. Fifthly, from that I make
prophetical revelations subject to the examination of the lawful
sovereign, he inferreth, that two prophets prophecying the same
thing at the same time, in the dominions of two different princes,
the one shall be a true prophet, the other a false. This consequence
is not good: for seeing they teach different doctrines, they cannot
both of them confirm their doctrine with miracles. But this I prove,
in the place (vol. iii. p. 426) he citeth, that whether either of
their doctrines shall be taught publicly or not, it is in the power
of the sovereign of the place only to determine. Nay, I say now
further, if a prophet come to any private man in the name of God,
that man shall be judge whether he be a true prophet or not, before
he obey him. See 1 John, iv. 1. Sixthly, whereas he says that, upon
my grounds, Christ was to be reputed a false prophet every where,
because his doctrine was received no where; his Lordship had read my
book more negligently, than was fit for one that would confute it.
My ground is this; that Christ in right of his Father was king of
the Jews, and consequently supreme prophet, and judge of all
prophets. What other princes thought of his prophesies, is nothing
to the purpose. I never said that princes can make doctrines or
prophesies true or false; but I say every sovereign prince has a
right to prohibit the public teaching of them, whether false or
true. But what an oversight is it in a divine, to say that Christ
had the approbation of no sovereign prince, when he had the
approbation of God, who was king of the Jews, and Christ his
viceroy, and the whole Scripture written (John, xx. 31) to prove it;
when his miracles declared it; when Pilate confessed it; and when
the apostles' office was to proclaim it? Seventhly, if we must not
consider, in points of Christian faith, who is the sovereign
prophet, that is, who is next under Christ our supreme head and
governor, I wish his Lordship would have cleared, ere he died, these
few questions. Is there not need of some judge of controverted
doctrines? I think no man can deny it, that has seen the rebellion
that followed the controversy here between Gomar and Arminius. There
must therefore be a judge of doctrines. But, says the Bishop, not
the king. Who then? Shall Dr. Bramhall be this judge? As profitable
an office as it is, he was more modest than to say that. Shall a
private layman have it? No man ever thought that. Shall it be given
to a Presbyterian minister? No; it is unreasonable. Shall a synod of
Presbyterians have it? No; for most of the Presbyters in the
primitive church were undoubtedly subordinate to bishops, and the
rest were bishops. Who then? A synod of bishops? Very well. His
Lordship being too modest to undertake the whole power, would have
been contented with the six-and-twentieth part. But, suppose it in a
synod of bishops, who shall call them together? The king. What if he
will not? Who should excommunicate him, or if he despise your
excommunication, who shall send forth a writ of _significavit_? No;
all this was far from his Lordship’s thoughts. The power of the
clergy, unless it be upheld legally by the king, or illegally by the
multitude, amounts to nothing. But for the multitude, Suarez and the
Schoolmen will never gain them, because they are not understood.
Besides there be very few bishops that can act a sermon, which is a
puissant part of _rhetoric_, so well as divers Presbyterians, and
fanatic preachers can do. I conclude therefore, that his Lordship
could not possibly believe that the supreme judicature in matter of
religion could any where be so well placed as in the head of the
church, which is the king. And so his Lordship and I think the same
thing; but because his Lordship knew not how to deduce it, he was
angry with me because I did it. He says, further, that _by my
principles, he that blasphemeth Christ at Constantinople, is a true
prophet_: as if a man that blasphemeth Christ, to approve his
blasphemy can procure a miracle. For by my principles, no man is a
prophet whose prophesy is not confirmed by God with a miracle. In
the last place, out of this, that the lawful sovereign is the judge
of prophesy, he deduces that then Samuel and other prophets were
false prophets, that contested with their sovereigns. As for Samuel,
he was at that time the judge, that is to say, the sovereign prince
in Israel, and so acknowledged by Saul. For Saul received the
kingdom from God himself, who had right to give and take it, by the
hands of Samuel. And God gave it to himself only, and not to his
seed; though if he had obeyed God, he would have settled it also
upon his seed. The commandment of God was, that he should not spare
Agag. Saul obeyed not. God therefore sent to Samuel to tell him that
he was rejected. For all this, Samuel went not about to resist Saul.
That he caused Agag to be slain, was with Saul’s consent. Lastly,
Saul confesses his sin. Where is this contesting with Saul? After
this God sent Samuel to anoint David, not that he should depose
Saul, but succeed him, the sons of Saul having never had a right of
succession. Nor did ever David make war on Saul, or so much as
resist him, but fled from his persecution. But when Saul was dead,
then indeed he claimed his right against the house of Saul. What
rebellion or resistance could his Lordship find here, either in
Samuel or in David? Besides, all these transactions are
supernatural, and oblige not to imitation. Is there any prophet or
priest now, that can set up in England, Scotland, or Ireland,
another king by pretence of prophecy or religion? What did Jeroboam
to the man of God (1 Kings xiii.) that prophesied against the altar
in Bethel without first doing a miracle, but offer to seize him for
speaking, as he thought, rashly of the king’s act; and after the
miraculous withering of his hand, desire the prophet to pray for
him? The sin of Jeroboam was not his distrust of the prophet, but
his idolatry. He was the sole judge of the truth which the man of
God uttered against the altar, and the process agreeable to equity.
What is the story of Elijah and Ahab (1 Kings xviii.), but a
confirmation of the right even of Ahab to be judge of prophecy?
Elijah told Ahab, he had transgressed the commandment of God. So may
any minister now tell his sovereign, so he do it with sincerity and
discretion. Ahab told Elijah he troubled Israel. Upon this
controversy Elijah desired trial. Send, saith he, and assemble all
Israel; assemble also the prophets of Baal, four hundred and fifty.
Ahab did so. The question is stated before the people thus: if the
Lord be God, follow him; but if Baal, follow him. Then upon the
altars of God and Baal were laid the wood and the bullocks; and the
cause was to be judged by fire from heaven, to burn the sacrifices;
which Elijah procured, the prophets of Baal could not procure. Was
not this cause here pleaded before Ahab? The sentence of Ahab is not
required; for Elijah from that time forward was no more persecuted
by Ahab, but only by his wife, Jezabel. The story of Micaiah (2
Chron. xviii.) is this. Ahab King of Israel consulted the prophets,
four hundred in number, whether he should prosper or not, in case he
went with Jehoshaphat, king of Judah, to fight against the Syrians
at Ramoth-gilead. The prophet Micaiah was also called, and both the
kings, Ahab and Jehoshaphat, sat together to hear what they should
prophecy. There was no miracle done. The four hundred pronounced
victory; Micaiah alone the contrary. The king was judge, and most
concerned in the event; nor had he received any revelation in the
business. What could he do more discreetly than to follow the
counsel of four hundred, rather than of one man? But the event was
contrary; for he was slain; but not for following the counsel of the
four hundred, but for his murder of Naboth, and his idolatry. It was
also a sin in him, that he afflicted Micaiah in prison. But an
unjust judgment does not take away from any king his right of
judicature. Besides, what is all this, or that of Jeremiah which he
cites last, to the question of who is judge of Christian doctrine?
_J. D._ Neither doth he use God the Holy Ghost, more favourably
than God the Son. Where St. Peter saith, holy men of God spake as
they were moved by the Holy Spirit; he saith, _By the spirit, is
meant the voice of God in a dream or vision supernatural_; which
dreams or visions, he maketh to be no more than _imaginations
which they had in their sleep, or in an extasy, which in every
true prophet were supernatural, but in false prophets were either
natural or feigned_, and more likely to be false than true. To
say, _God hath spoken to him in a dream, is no more than to say,
he dreamed that God spake to him, &c. To say, he hath seen a
vision or heard a voice, is to say, that he hath dreamed between
sleeping and waking._ So St. Peter’s Holy Ghost, is come to be
their own imaginations, which might be either feigned, or
mistaken, or true. As if the Holy Ghost did enter only at their
eyes, and at their ears, not into their understandings, nor into
their minds; or as if the Holy Ghost did not seal unto their
hearts the truth and assurance of their prophecies. Whether a new
light be infused into their understandings, or new graces be
inspired into their heart, they are wrought, or caused, or created
immediately by the Holy Ghost; and so are his _imaginations_, if
they be supernatural.
_T. H._ For the places of my _Leviathan_ he cites, they are all,
as they stand, both true and clearly proved. The setting of them
down by fragments is no refutation; nor offers he any arguments
against them. His consequences are not deduced. I never said that
the Holy Ghost was an imagination, or a dream, or a vision, but
that the Holy Ghost spake most often in the Scripture by dreams
and visions supernatural. The next words of his, _as if the Holy
Ghost did enter only at their eyes, and at their ears, not into
their understandings, nor into their minds_, I let pass, because I
cannot understand them. His last words, _Whether new light, &c._ I
understand and approve.
_J. D._ But he must needs fall into these absurdities, who maketh
but a jest of inspiration. _They who pretend Divine inspiration to
be a supernatural entering of the Holy Ghost into a man, are_, as he
thinks, _in a very dangerous dilemma; for if they worship not the
men whom they conceive to be inspired, they fall into impiety; and
if they worship them, they commit idolatry_. So mistaking the Holy
Ghost to be corporeal, something that is blown into a man, and the
graces of the Holy Ghost to be corporeal graces. And the words,
_inpoured or infused virtue_, and, _inblown or inspired virtue, are
as absurd and as insignificant, as a round quadrangle_. He reckons
it as a common error, that _faith and sanctity are not attained by
study and reason, but by supernatural inspiration or infusion_. And
layeth this for a firm ground; _faith and sanctity are indeed not
very frequent, but yet they are not miracles, but brought to pass by
education, discipline, correction, and other natural ways_. I would
see the greatest Pelagian of them all, fly higher.
_T. H._ I make here no jest of inspiration. Seriously, I say, that
in the proper signification of the words _inspiration_ and
_infusion_, to say virtue is inspired, or infused, is as absurd as
to say a quadrangle is round. But metaphorically, for God’s
bestowing of faith, grace, or other virtue, those words are
intelligible enough.
_J. D._ Why should he trouble himself about the Holy Spirit, who
acknowledgeth no spirit, but either a subtle fluid body, or a ghost,
or other idol or phantasm of the imagination; who knoweth no inward
grace or intrinsical holiness? _Holy is a word which in God’s
kingdom answereth to that, which men in their kingdoms use to call
public, or the king’s._ And again, _wheresoever the word, holy, is
taken properly, there is still something signified of propriety
gotten by consent_. His holiness is a relation, not a quality; for
inward sanctification, or real infused holiness, (in respect whereof
the third person is called the Holy Ghost, because he is not only
holy in himself, but also maketh us holy), he is so great a stranger
to it, that he doth altogether deny it, and disclaim it.
_T. H._ The word _holy_ I had defined in the words which his
Lordship here sets down, and by the use thereof in the Scripture
made it manifest, that that was the true signification of the word.
There is nothing in learning more difficult than to determine the
signification of words. That difficulty excuses him. He says that
_holiness_, in my sense, is a relation, not a quality. All the
learned agree that quality is an accident: so that in attributing to
God _holiness_, as a quality, he contradicts himself. For he has in
the beginning of this his discourse denied, and rightly, that any
accident is in God; saying, whatsoever is in God is the Divine
substance. He affirms also, that to attribute any accident to God,
is to deny the simplicity of the Divine substance. And thus his
Lordship makes God, as I do, a corporeal spirit. Both here, and
throughout, he discovers so much ignorance, as had he charged me
with error only, and not with atheism, I should not have thought it
necessary to answer him.
_J. D._ We are taught in our creed to believe the catholic or
universal church. But T. H. teacheth us the contrary: _That if there
be more Christian churches than one, all of them together are not
one church personally_. And more plainly: _Now if the whole number
of Christians be not contained in one commonwealth, they are not one
person, nor is there an universal church, that hath any authority
over them_. And again: _The universal church is not one person, of
which it can be said, that it hath done, or decreed, or ordained, or
excommunicated, or absolved_. This doth quite overthrow all the
authority of general councils.
All other men distinguish between the church and the commonwealth;
only T. H. maketh them to be one and the same thing. _The
commonwealth of Christian men, and the church of the same, are
altogether the same thing, called by two names for two reasons. For
the matter of the church and of the commonwealth is the same,
namely, the same Christian men; and the form is the same, which
consisteth in the lawful power of convocating them._ And hence he
concludeth, that _every Christian commonwealth is a church endowed
with all spiritual authority_. And yet more fully: _The church if it
be one person, is the same thing with the commonwealth of
Christians; called a commonwealth, because it consisteth of men
united in one person their sovereign; and a church, because it
consisteth in Christian men united in one Christian sovereign_. Upon
which account there was no Christian church in these parts of the
world, for some hundreds of years after Christ, because there was no
Christian sovereign.
_T. H._ For answer to this period, I say only this; that taking the
church, as I do, in all those places, for a company of Christian men
on earth incorporated into one person, that can speak, command, or
do any act of a person, all that he citeth out of what I have
written is true; and that all private conventicles, though their
belief be right, are not properly called churches; and that there is
not any one universal church here on earth, which is a person indued
with authority universal to govern all Christian men on earth, no
more than there is one universal sovereign prince or state on earth,
that hath right to govern all mankind. I deny also that the whole
clergy of a Christian kingdom or state being assembled, are the
representative of that church further than the civil laws permit; or
can lawfully assemble themselves, unless by the command or by the
leave of the sovereign civil power. I say further, that the denial
of this point tendeth in England towards the taking away of the
king’s supremacy in causes ecclesiastical. But his Lordship has not
here denied any thing of mine, because he has done no more but set
down my words. He says further, that this doctrine destroys the
authority of all general councils; which I confess. Nor hath any
general council at this day in this kingdom the force of a law, nor
ever had, but by the authority of the king.
_J. D._ Neither is he more orthodox concerning the holy Scriptures:
_hitherto_, that is, for the books of Moses, _the power of making
the Scripture canonical, was in the civil sovereign_. The like he
saith of the Old Testament, made canonical by Esdras. And of the New
Testament, that _it was not the apostles which made their own
writings canonical, but every convert made them so to himself_: yet
with this restriction, that _until the sovereign ruler had
prescribed them, they were but counsel and advice, which whether
good or bad, he that was counselled might without injustice refuse
to observe, and being contrary to the laws established, could not
without injustice observe_. He maketh the primitive Christians to
have been in a pretty condition. Certainly the gospel was contrary
to the laws then established. But most plainly, _The word of the
interpreter of the Scripture is the word of God_. And the _same is
the interpreter of the Scripture, and the sovereign judge of all
doctrines_, that is, the sovereign magistrate, _to whose authority
we must stand no less, than to theirs, who at first did commend the
Scripture to us for the canon of faith_. Thus if Christian
sovereigns, of different communications, do clash one with another,
in their interpretation, or misinterpretation of Scripture, as they
do daily, then the word of God is contradictory to itself; or that
is the word of God in one commonwealth, which is the word of the
Devil in another commonwealth. And the same thing may be true, and
not true at the same time: which is the peculiar privilege of T. H.
to make contradictories to be true together.
_T. H._ There is no doubt but by what authority the Scripture or
any other writing is made a law, by the same authority the
Scriptures are to be interpreted, or else they are made law in
vain. But to obey is one thing, to believe is another; which
distinction perhaps his Lordship never heard of. To obey is to do
or forbear as one is commanded, and depends on the will; but to
believe, depends not on the will, but on the providence and
guidance of our hearts that are in the hands of God Almighty. Laws
only require obedience; belief requires teachers and arguments
drawn either from reason, or from some thing already believed.
Where there is no reason for our belief, there is no reason we
should believe. The reason why men believe, is drawn from the
authority of those men whom we have no just cause to mistrust,
that is, of such men to whom no profit accrues by their deceiving
us, and of such men as never used to lie, or else from the
authority of such men whose promises, threats, and affirmations,
we have seen confirmed by God with miracles. If it be not from the
king’s authority that the Scripture is law, what other authority
makes it law? Here some man being of his Lordship’s judgment, will
perhaps laugh and say, it is the authority of God that makes them
law. I grant that. But my question is, on what authority they
believe that God is the author of them? Here his Lordship would
have been at a nonplus, and turning round, would have said the
authority of the Scripture makes good that God is their author. If
it be said we are to believe the Scripture upon the authority of
the universal church, why are not the books we call Apocrypha the
word of God as well as the rest? If this authority be in the
church of England, then it is not any other than the authority of
the head of the church, which is the king. For without the head
the church is mute. The authority therefore is in the king; which
is all that I contended for in this point. As to the laws of the
Gentiles, concerning religion in the primitive times of the
church, I confess they were contrary to Christian faith. But none
of their laws, nor terrors, nor a man’s own will, are able to take
away faith, though they can compel to an external obedience; and
though I may blame the _Ethnic_ princes for compelling men to
speak what they thought not, yet I absolve not all those that have
had the power in Christian churches from the same fault. For I
believe, since the time of the first four general councils, there
have been more Christians burnt and killed in the Christian church
by ecclesiastical authority, than by the heathen emperors' laws,
for religion only without sedition. All that the Bishop does in
this argument is but a heaving at the King’s supremacy. Oh, but,
says he, if two kings interpret a place of Scripture in contrary
senses, it will follow that both senses are true. It does not
follow. For the interpretation, though it be made by just
authority, must not therefore always be true. If the doctrine in
the one sense be necessary to salvation, then they that hold the
other must die in their sins, and be damned. But if the doctrine
in neither sense be necessary to salvation, then all is well,
except perhaps that they will call one another atheists, and fight
about it.
_J. D._ All the power, virtue, use, and efficacy, which he ascribeth
to the holy sacraments, is to be _signs or commemorations_. As for
any sealing, or confirming, or conferring of grace, he acknowledged!
nothing. The same he saith particularly of baptism: upon which
grounds a cardinal’s red hat, or a serjeant-at-arms his mace, may be
called sacraments as well as baptism, or the holy eucharist, if they
be only signs and commemorations of a benefit. If he except, that
baptism and the eucharist are of Divine institution; but a
cardinal’s red hat or a serjeant-at-arms his mace are not: he saith
truly, but nothing to his advantage or purpose, seeing he deriveth
all the authority of the word and sacraments, in respect of
subjects, and all our obligation to them, from the authority of the
sovereign magistrate, without which these words, _Repent and be
baptized in the name of Jesus_, are but counsel, no command. And so
a serjeant-at-arms his mace, and baptism, proceed both from the same
authority. And this he saith upon this silly ground, _that nothing
is a command, the performance whereof tendeth to our own benefit_.
He might as well deny the Ten Commandments to be commands, because
they have an advantageous promise annexed to them, _Do this and thou
shalt live_; and _cursed is every one that continueth not in all the
words of this law to do them_.
_T. H._ Of the sacraments I said no more, than that they are _signs_
or _commemorations_. He finds fault that I add not _seals_,
_confirmations_, and that they _confer grace_. First, I would have
asked him, if a seal be any thing else besides a sign, whereby to
remember somewhat, as that we have promised, accepted, acknowledged,
given, undertaken somewhat. Are not other _signs_, though without a
_seal_, of force sufficient to convince me or oblige me? A writing
obligatory, or release, signed only with a man’s name, is as
obligatory as a bond signed and sealed, if it be sufficiently
proved, though peradventure it may require a longer process to
obtain a sentence; but his Lordship I think knew better than I do
the force of bonds and bills; yet I know this, that in the court of
heaven there is no such difference between saying, signing, and
sealing, as his Lordship seemeth here to pretend. I am baptized for
a commemoration that I have enrolled myself. I take the sacrament of
the Lord’s Supper to commemorate that Christ’s body was broken, and
his blood shed for my redemption. What is there more intimated
concerning the nature of these sacraments, either in the Scripture
or in the book of Common Prayer? Have bread and wine and water in
their own nature, any other quality than they had before the
consecration? It is true that the consecration gives these bodies a
new relation, as being a giving and dedicating of them to God, that
is to say a making of them holy, not a changing of their quality.
But as some silly young men returning from France affect a broken
English, to be thought perfect in the French language; so his
Lordship, I think, to seem a perfect understander of the
unintelligible language of the Schoolmen, pretends an ignorance of
his mother-tongue. He talks here of _command_ and _counsel_, as if
he were no Englishman, nor knew any difference between their
significations. What Englishman, when he commandeth, says more than,
_Do this_; yet he looks to be obeyed, if obedience be due unto him.
But when he says, _Do this, and thou shalt have such or such a
reward_, he encourages him, or advises him, or bargains with him;
but commands him not. Oh, the understanding of a Schoolman!
_J. D._ Sometimes he is for holy orders, and giveth to the pastors
of the church the right of ordination and absolution, and
infallibility, too much for a particular pastor, or the pastors of
one particular church. _It is manifest, that the consecration of the
chiefest doctors in every church, and imposition of hands, doth
pertain to the doctors of the same church._ And, _it cannot be
doubted of, but the power of binding and loosing was given by Christ
to the future pastors, after the same manner as to his present
apostles_. And, _our Saviour hath promised this infallibility in
those things which are necessary to salvation, to his apostles,
until the day of judgment, that is to say, to the apostles, and
pastors to be consecrated by the apostles successively, by the
imposition of hands_.
But at other times he casteth all this meal down with his foot.
_Christian sovereigns are the supreme pastors, and the only persons
whom Christians now hear speak from God, except such as God speaketh
to in these days supernaturally._ What is now become of the promised
infallibility? And, _it is from the civil sovereign that all other
pastors derive their right of teaching, preaching, and all other
functions pertaining to that office; and they are but his ministers
in the same manner as the magistrates of towns, or judges in courts
of justice, and commanders of armies_. What is now become of their
ordination? Magistrates, judges, and generals, need no precedent
qualifications. He maketh _the pastoral authority of sovereigns to
be_ jure divino, _of all other pastors_ jure civili: he addeth,
_neither is there any judge of heresy among subjects, but their own
civil sovereign_.
Lastly, _the church excommunicateth no man but whom she
excommunicateth by the authority of the prince_. And, _the effect of
excommunication hath nothing in it, neither of damage in this world,
nor terror upon an apostate, if the civil power did persecute or not
assist the church: and in the world to come, leaves them in no worse
estate, than those who never believed. The damage rather redoundeth
to the church. Neither is the excommunication of a Christian
subject, that obeyeth the laws of his own sovereign, of any effect._
Where is now their power of binding and loosing?
_T. H._ Here his Lordship condemneth, first my too much kindness to
the pastors of the church; as if I ascribed infallibility to every
particular minister, or at least to the assembly of the pastors of a
particular church. But he mistakes me; I never meant to flatter them
so much. I say only that the ceremony of consecration, and
imposition of hands, belongs to them; and that also no otherwise
than as given them by the laws of the commonwealth. The bishop
consecrates, but the king both makes him bishop and gives him his
authority. The head of the church not only gives the power of
consecration, dedication, and benediction, but may also exercise the
act himself if he please. Solomon did it; and the book of canons
says, that the King of England has all the right that any good king
of Israel had; it might have added, that any other king or sovereign
assembly had in their own dominions. I deny that any pastor or any
assembly of pastors in any particular church, or all the churches on
earth though united, are infallible: yet I say, the pastors of a
Christian church assembled are, in all such points as are _necessary
to salvation_. But about what points are _necessary to salvation_,
he and I differ. For I, in the forty-third chapter of my
_Leviathan_, have proved that this article, _Jesus is the Christ_,
is the _unum necessarium_, _the only article necessary to
salvation_; to which his Lordship hath not offered any objection.
And he, it seems, would have necessary to salvation every doctrine
he himself thought so. Doubtless in this article, _Jesus is the
Christ_, every church is infallible; for else it were no church.
Then he says, I overthrow this again by saying that Christian
sovereigns are the _supreme pastors_, that is, heads of their own
churches; _That they have their authority jure divino; that all
other pastors have it jure civili_. How came any Bishop to have
authority over me, but by letters patent from the king? I remember a
parliament wherein a bishop, who was both a good preacher and a good
man, was blamed for a book he had a little before published in
maintenance of the _jus divinum_ of bishops; a thing which before
the reformation here, was never allowed them by the pope. Two _jus
divinums_ cannot stand together in one kingdom. In the last place he
mislikes that the church should excommunicate by authority of the
king, that is to say, by authority of the head of the church. But he
tells not why. He might as well mislike that the magistrates of the
realm should execute their offices by the authority of the head of
the realm. His Lordship was in a great error, if he thought such
encroachments would add any thing to the wealth, dignity, reverence,
or continuance of his order. They are pastors of pastors, but yet
they are the sheep of him that is on earth their sovereign pastor,
and he again a sheep of that supreme pastor which is in heaven. And
if they did their pastoral office, both by life and doctrine, as
they ought to do, there could never arise any dangerous rebellion in
the land. But if the people see once any ambition in their teachers,
they will sooner learn that, than any other doctrine; and from
ambition proceeds rebellion.
_J. D._ It may be some of T. H. his disciples desire to know what
hopes of heavenly joys they have upon their master’s principles.
They may hear them without any great contentment: _There is no
mention in Scripture, nor ground in reason, of the cœlum empyræum_,
that is, the heaven of the blessed, where the saints shall live
eternally with God. And again, _I have not found any text that can
probably be drawn to prove any ascension of the saints into heaven,
that is to say, into any cœlum empyræum_. But he concludeth
positively, that _Salvation shall be upon earth, when God shall
reign at the coming of Christ in Jerusalem_. And again, _In short,
the kingdom of God is a civil kingdom_, &c. called also _the kingdom
of heaven, and the kingdom of glory_. All the Hobbians can hope for,
is, to be restored to the same condition which Adam was in before
his fall. So saith T. H. himself: _From whence may be inferred, that
the elect, after the resurrection, shall be restored to the estate
wherein Adam was before he had sinned_. As for the beatifical
vision, he defineth it to be a word unintelligible.
_T. H._ This _cœlum empyræum_ for which he pretendeth so much zeal,
where is it in the Scripture, where in the book of Common Prayer,
where in the canons, where in the homilies of the church of England,
or in any part of our religion? What has a Christian to do with such
language? Nor do I remember it in Aristotle. Perhaps it may be in
some Schoolman or commentator on Aristotle, and his Lordship makes
it in English the _heaven of the blessed_, as if _empyræum_
signified _that which belongs to the blessed_. St. Austin says
better; that after the day of judgment all that is not heaven shall
be hell. Then for _beatifical vision_, how can any man understand
it, that knows from the Scripture that no man ever saw or can see
God. Perhaps his Lordship thinks that the happiness of the life to
come is not real, but a vision. As for that which I say
(_Leviathan_, p. 625), I have answered to it already.
_J. D._ But considering his other principles, I do not marvel much
at his extravagance in this point. To what purpose should a _cœlum
empyræum_, or heaven of the blessed, serve in his judgment, who
maketh the blessed angels that are the inhabitants of that happy
mansion, to be either idols of the brain, that is in plain English,
nothing, or thin, subtile, fluid bodies, destroying the angelical
nature. _The universe being the aggregate of all bodies, there is no
real part thereof that is not also body._ And elsewhere, _Every part
of the universe is body, and that which is not body, is no part of
the universe. And because the universe is all, that which is no part
of it is nothing, and consequently nowhere._ How? By this doctrine
he maketh not only the angels, but God himself to be nothing.
Neither doth he salve it at all, by supposing erroneously angels to
be corporeal spirits, and by attributing the name of incorporeal
spirit to God, _as being a name of more honour, in whom we consider
not what attribute best expresseth his nature, which is
incomprehensible, but what best expresseth our desire to honour
him_. Though we be not able to comprehend perfectly what God is, yet
we are able perfectly to comprehend what God is not, that is, he is
not imperfect, and therefore he is not finite, and consequently he
is not corporeal. This were a trim way to honour God indeed, to
honour him with a lie. If this that he says here be true, that
_every part of the universe is a body, and whatsoever is not a body
is nothing_, then, by this doctrine, if God be not a body, God is
nothing: not an incorporeal spirit, but _one of the idols of the
brain_, a mere nothing, though they think they dance under a net,
and have the blind of God’s incomprehensibility between them and
discovery.
_T. H._ This of _incorporeal substance_ he urged before, and there I
answered it. I wonder he so often rolls the same stone. He is like
Sisyphus in the poet’s hell, that there rolls a heavy stone up a
hill, which no sooner he brings to day-light, than it slips down
again to the bottom, and serves him so perpetually. For so his
Lordship rolls this and other questions with much ado, till they
come to the light of Scripture, and then they vanish; and he vexing,
sweating, and railing, goes to it again, to as little purpose as
before. From that I say of the universe, he infers, that I make God
to be nothing: but infers it absurdly. He might indeed have inferred
that I make him a corporeal, but yet a pure spirit. I mean by the
universe, the aggregate of all things that have being in themselves;
and so do all men else. And because God has a being, it follows that
he is either the whole universe, or part of it. Nor does his
Lordship go about to disprove it, but only seems to wonder at it.
_J. D._ To what purpose should a _cœlum empyræum_ serve in his
judgment, who denieth the immortality of the soul? _The doctrine is
now, and hath been a long time, far otherwise; namely, that every
man hath eternity of life by nature, inasmuch as his soul is
immortal._ Who supposeth that _when a man dieth, there remaineth
nothing of him but his carcase_? Who maketh the word _soul_ in Holy
Scripture to signify always either the life, or the living creature;
and expoundeth the casting of body and soul into hell-fire, to be
_the casting of body and life into hell-fire_? Who maketh this
orthodox truth, that the souls of men are substances distinct from
their bodies, to be _an error contracted by the contagion of the
demonology of the Greeks, and a window that gives entrance to the
dark doctrine of eternal torments_? Who expoundeth these words of
Solomon (_Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was, and the
spirit shall return to God that gave it_) thus, _God only knows what
becometh of a man’s spirit when he expireth_? He will not
acknowledge that there is a spirit, or any substance distinct from
the body. I wonder what they think doth keep their bodies from
stinking.
_T. H._ He comes here to that which is a great paradox in
School-divinity. The grounds of my opinion are the canonical
Scripture, and the texts which I cited I must again recite, to which
I shall also add some others. My doctrine is this: first, _that the
elect in Christ, from the day of judgment forward, by virtue of
Christ’s passion and victory over death, shall enjoy eternal life,
that is, they shall be immortal_. Secondly, _that there is no living
soul separated in place from the body, more than there is a living
body separated from the soul_. Thirdly, _that the reprobate shall be
revived to judgment, and shall die a second death in torments, which
death shall be everlasting_. Now let us consider what is said to
these points in the Scripture, and what is the harmony therein of
the Old and New Testament.
And first, because the word _immortal soul_, is not found in the
Scriptures, the question is to be decided by evident consequences
from the Scripture. The Scripture saith of God expressly (1 Tim. vi.
16) that _He only hath immortality, and dwelleth in inaccessible
light_. Hence it followeth that the soul of man is not of its own
nature immortal, but by grace, that is to say, by the gift of God.
And then the question will be, whether this grace or gift of God
were bestowed on the soul in the creation and conception of the man,
or afterwards by his redemption. Another question will be, in what
sense immortality of torments can be called a gift, when all gifts
suppose the thing given to be grateful to the receiver. To the first
of these, Christ himself saith (Luke xiv. 13, 14): _When thou makest
a feast, call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind: and thou
shalt be blessed, for they cannot recompense thee: for thou shalt be
recompensed at the resurrection of them that be just_. It follows
hence that the reward of the elect is not before the resurrection.
What reward then enjoys a separated soul in heaven, or any where
else, till that day come, or what has he to do there till the body
rise again? Again, St. Paul says (Rom. ii. 6-8): _God will render to
every man according to his works. To them, who by patient
continuance in well doing seek for honour, glory, and immortality,
eternal life. But unto them that be contentious, and do not obey the
truth, but obey unrighteousness, indignation and wrath._ Here it is
plain that God gives eternal life only to well doers, and to them
that seek, not to them that have already, immortality. Again (2 Tim.
i. 10): _Christ hath abolished death, and brought life and
immortality to light, through the Gospel_. Therefore before the
Gospel of Christ, nothing was immortal but God. And St. Paul,
speaking of the day of judgment (1 Cor. xv. 54), saith, that _this
mortal shall put on immortality_, and _that then death is swallowed
up in victory_. There was no immortality of any thing mortal till
death was overcome, and that was at the resurrection. And John,
viii. 51: _Verily, verily, if a man keep my sayings he shall never
see death_; that is to say, he shall be immortal. But it is nowhere
said, that he which keeps not Christ’s sayings shall never see
death, nor be immortal: and yet they that say that the wicked, body
and soul, shall be tormented everlastingly, do therein say they are
immortal. Matth. x. 28: _Fear not them that can kill the body, but
are not able to kill the soul; but fear him that is able to destroy
both soul and body in hell_. Man cannot kill a soul; for the man
killed shall revive again. But God can destroy the soul and body in
hell, as that it shall never return to life. In the Old Testament
(Gen. vii. 4) we read: _I will destroy every living substance that I
have made, from off the face of the earth_; therefore, if the souls
of them that perished in the Flood were substances, they were also
destroyed in the Flood, and were not immortal. Matth. xxv. 41:
_Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the
devil and his angels_. These words are to be spoken in the day of
judgment, which judgment is to be in the clouds. And there shall
stand the men that are reprobated alive, where souls, according to
his Lordship’s doctrine, were sent long before to hell. Therefore at
that present day of judgment they had one soul by which they were
there alive, and another soul in hell. How his Lordship could have
maintained this, I understand not. But by my doctrine, that the soul
is not a separated substance, but that the man at his resurrection
shall be revived by God, and raised to judgment, and afterwards body
and soul destroyed in hell-fire, which is the second death, there is
no such consequence or difficulty to be inferred. Besides, it avoids
the unnecessary disputes about where the soul of Lazarus was for
four days he lay dead. And the order of the divine process is made
good, of not inflicting torments before the condemnation pronounced.
Now as to the harmony of the two Testaments, it is said in the Old
(Gen. ii. 17): _In the day that thou eatest of the tree of
knowledge, dying thou shalt die: moriendo morieris_: that is, when
thou art dead thou shalt not revive; for so hath Athanasius
expounded it. Therefore Adam and Eve were not immortal by their
creation. Then (Gen. iii. 22): _Behold the man is become as one of
us: now lest he put forth his hand and take also of the tree of
life, and eat, and live for ever, &c._ Here they had had an
immortality by the gift of God if they had not sinned. It was
therefore sin that lost them eternal life. He therefore that
redeemed them from sin was the author of their immortality, which
consequently began in the day of judgment, when Adam and Eve were
again made alive by admission to the new tree of life, which was
Christ.
Now let us compare this with the New Testament; where we find these
words (1 Cor. xv. 21): _since by man came death, by man came also
the resurrection of the dead_. Therefore all the immortality of the
soul, that shall be after the resurrection, is by Christ, and not by
the nature of the soul. Verse 22: _As by Adam all die, even so in
Christ shall all be made alive_. Therefore since we died by Adam’s
sin, so we shall live by Christ’s redemption of us, that is, after
the resurrection. Again (verse 23): _But every man in his own order;
Christ the first-fruits, afterwards they that are Christ’s, at his
coming_. Therefore none shall be made alive till the coming of
Christ. Lastly, as when God had said, _that day that thou eatest of
the tree of knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt die_, though he
condemned him then, yet he suffered him to live a long time after;
so when Christ had said to the thief on the cross, _this day thou
shalt be with me in Paradise_, yet he suffered him to lie dead till
the general resurrection, for no man rose again from the dead before
our Saviour’s coming, and conquering death.
If God bestowed immortality on every man then when he made him, and
he made many to whom he never purposed to give his saving grace,
what did his Lordship think that God gave any man immortality with
purpose only to make him capable of immortal torments? It is a hard
saying, and I think cannot piously be believed. I am sure it can
never be proved by the canonical Scripture.
But though I have made it clear that it cannot be drawn by lawful
consequence from Scripture, that man was created with a soul
immortal, and that the elect only, by the grace of God in Christ,
shall both bodies and souls from the resurrection forward be
immortal; yet there may be a consequence well drawn from some words
in the rites of burial, that prove the contrary, as these:
_Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God of his great mercy, to
take unto himself the soul of our dear brother here departed_, &c.
And these: _Almighty God, with whom do live the spirits of them that
depart hence in the Lord_: which are words authorised by the church.
I wonder his Lordship, that had so often pronounced them, took no
notice of them here. But it often happens that men think of those
things least, which they have most perfectly learnt by rote. I am
sorry I could not, without deserting the sense of Scripture and mine
own conscience, say the same. But I see no just cause yet, why the
church should be offended at it. For the church of England
pretendeth not, as doth the church of Rome, to be above the
Scripture; nor forbiddeth any man to read the Scripture; nor was I
forbidden, when I wrote my _Leviathan_, to publish anything which
the Scriptures suggested. For when I wrote it, I may safely say
there was no lawful church in England, that could have maintained me
in, or prohibited me from writing anything. There was no bishop; and
though there was preaching, such as it was, yet no common prayer.
For extemporary prayer, though made in the pulpit, is not common
prayer. There was then no church in England, that any man living was
bound to obey. What I write here at this present time I am forced to
in my defence, not against the church, but against the accusations
and arguments of my adversaries. For the church, though it
excommunicates for scandalous life, and for teaching false
doctrines, yet it professeth to impose nothing to be held as faith,
but what may be warranted by Scripture: and this the church itself
saith in the twentieth of the Thirty-nine Articles of religion. And
therefore I am permitted to allege Scripture at any time in the
defence of my belief.
_J. D._ But they that in one case are grieved, in another must be
relieved. If perchance T. H. hath given his disciples any discontent
in his doctrine of _heaven_ and the _holy angels_, and _the
glorified souls of the saints_, he will make them amends in his
doctrine of _hell_, and the _devils_, and the _damned spirits_.
First of the devils; he fancieth that all those devils which our
Saviour did cast out, were phrenzies; and all _demoniacs_, or
persons possessed, _no other than madmen_: and to justify _our
Saviour’s speaking to a disease as to a person_, produceth the
example of enchanters. But he declareth himself most clearly upon
this subject, in his animadversions upon my reply to his defence of
fatal destiny. _There are in the Scripture two sorts of things which
are in English translated devils. One is that which is called Satan,
Diabolus Abaddon, which signifieth in English an enemy, an accuser,
and a destroyer of the church of God; in which sense the devils are
but wicked men. The other sort of devils are called in the Scripture
Dæmonia, which are the feigned Gods of the heathen, and are neither
bodies nor spiritual substances, but mere fancies, and fictions of
terrified hearts, feigned by the Greeks, and other heathen people,
which St. Paul calleth nothings._ So T. H. hath killed the great
infernal Devil, and all his black angels, and left no devils to be
feared, but devils incarnate, that is, wicked men.
_T. H._ As for the first words cited (_Leviathan_, vol. iii. p. 68)
I refer the reader to the place itself; and for the words concerning
Satan, I leave them to the judgment of the learned.
_J. D._ And for _hell_, he describeth the _kingdom of Satan_, or the
_kingdom of darkness_, to be _a confederacy of deceivers_. He
telleth us that the places, which set forth the torments of hell in
holy Scripture, _do design metaphorically a grief and discontent of
mind, from the sight of that eternal felicity in others, which they
themselves, through their own incredulity and disobedience, have
lost_. As if metaphorical descriptions did not bear sad truths in
them, as well as literal; as if final desperation were no more than
a little fit of grief or discontent; and a guilty conscience were no
more than a transitory passion; as if it were a loss so easily to be
borne, to be deprived for evermore of the beatifical vision; and
lastly, as if the damned, besides that unspeakable loss, did not
likewise suffer actual torments, proportionable in some measure to
their own sins, and God’s justice.
_T. H._ That metaphors bear sad truths in them, I deny not. It is a
sad thing to lose this present life untimely. Is it not therefore
much more a sad thing to lose an eternal happy life? And I believe
that he which will venture upon sin, with such danger, will not
stick to do the same notwithstanding the doctrine of eternal
torture. Is it not also a sad truth, that the kingdom of darkness
should be a confederacy of deceivers?
_J. D._ Lastly, for the damned spirits, he declareth himself every
where, that their sufferings are not eternal. _The fire shall be
unquenchable, and the torments everlasting; but it cannot be thence
inferred, that he who shall be cast into that fire, or_ _be
tormented with those torments, shall endure and resist them, so as
to be eternally burnt and tortured, and yet never be destroyed nor
die. And though there be many places, that affirm everlasting fire,
into which men may be cast successively one after another for ever;
yet I find none that affirm that there shall be an everlasting life
therein of any individual person._ If he had said, and said only,
that the pains of the damned may be lessened, as to the degree of
them, or that they endure not for ever, but that after they are
purged by long torments from their dross and corruptions, as gold in
the fire, both the damned spirits and the devils themselves should
be restored to a better condition; he might have found some ancients
(who are therefore called _the merciful doctors_) to have joined
with him; though still he should have wanted the suffrage of the
Catholic church.
_T. H._ Why does not his Lordship cite some place of Scripture here
to prove, that all the reprobates which are dead, live eternally in
torment? We read indeed, that everlasting torments were prepared for
the Devil and his angels, whose natures also are everlasting; and
that the _Beast_ and the _false prophet_ shall be tormented
everlastingly; but not that every reprobate shall be so. They shall
indeed be cast into the same fire; but the Scripture says plainly
enough, that they shall be both body and soul destroyed there. If I
had said that the devils themselves should be restored to a better
condition, his Lordship would have been so kind as to have put me
into the number of the _merciful doctors_. Truly, if I had had any
warrant for the possibility of their being less enemies to the
church of God than they have been, I would have been as merciful to
them as any doctor of them all. As it is, I am more merciful than
the Bishop.
_J. D._ But his shooting is not at rovers, but altogether at random,
without either precedent or partner. All that _eternal fire_, all
those torments which he acknowledgeth, is but this, that _after the
resurrection, the reprobate shall be in the estate that Adam and his
posterity were in, after the sin committed, saving that God promised
a redeemer to Adam and not to them_: adding, _that they shall live
as they did formerly, marry and give in marriage; and consequently
engender children perpetually after the resurrection, as they did
before_: which he calleth _an immortality of the kind, but not of
the persons of men_. It is to be presumed, that in those their
second lives, knowing certainly from T. H. that there is no hope of
redemption for them from corporal death upon their well-doing, nor
fear of any torments after death for their ill-doing, they will pass
their times here as pleasantly as they can. This is all the
damnation which T. H. fancieth.
_T. H._ This he has urged once before, and I answered to it, that
the whole paragraph was to prove, that for any text of Scripture to
the contrary, men might, after the resurrection, live as Adam did on
earth; and that, notwithstanding the text of St. Luke, (chap. xx.
34-36), _Marry and propagate_. But that they shall do so, is no
assertion of mine. His Lordship knew I held, that after the
resurrection there shall be at all no wicked men; but the elect (all
that are, have been, and hereafter shall be) shall live on earth.
But St. Peter (2 Epist. iii. 13) says, there shall then be _a new
heaven and a new earth_.
_J. D._ In sum I leave it to the free judgment of the understanding
reader, by these few instances which follow, to judge what the
Hobbian principles are in point of religion. _Ex ungue leonem._
First, that no man needs to put himself to any hazard for his faith,
but may safely comply with the times. _And for their faith it is
internal and invisible. They have the licence that Naaman had, and
need not put themselves into danger for it._
Secondly, he alloweth subjects, being commanded by their sovereign,
to deny Christ. _Profession with the tongue is but an external
thing, and no more than any other gesture, whereby we signify our
obedience: and wherein a Christian, holding firmly in his heart the
faith of Christ, hath the same liberty which the prophet Elisha
allowed to Naaman, &c. who by bowing before the idol Rimmon, denied
the true God as much in effect, as if he had done it with his lips._
Alas, why did St. Peter weep so bitterly for denying his master, out
of fear of his life or members? It seems he was not acquainted with
these Hobbian principles. And in the same place he layeth down this
general conclusion: _This we may say, that whatsoever a subject is
compelled to, in obedience to his sovereign, and doth it not in
order to his own mind, but in order to the laws of his country, that
action is not his, but his sovereign’s; nor is it he, that in this
case denieth Christ before men, but his governor and the law of his
country_. His instance, in a Mahometan commanded by a Christian
prince to be present at divine service, is a weak mistake, springing
from his gross ignorance in case-divinity, not knowing to
distinguish between an erroneous conscience, as the Mahometan’s is,
and a conscience rightly informed.
_T. H._ In these his two first instances, I confess his Lordship
does not much belie me. But neither does he confute me. Also I
confess my ignorance in his case-divinity, which is grounded upon
the doctrine of the Schoolmen; who to decide cases of conscience,
take in, not only the Scriptures, but also the decrees of the popes
of Rome, for the advancing of the dominion of the Roman church over
consciences; whereas the true decision of cases of consciences ought
to be grounded only on Scripture, or natural equity. I never allowed
the denying of Christ with the tongue in all men, but expressly say
the contrary (_Leviathan_, vol. iii. p. 656) in these words: _For an
unlearned man that is in the power of an idolatrous king or state,
if commanded on pain of death to worship before an idol, he
detesteth the idol in his heart, he doth well; though if he had the
fortitude to suffer death rather than worship it, he should do
better. But if a pastor, who as Christ’s messenger has undertaken to
teach Christ’s doctrine to all nations, should do the same, it were
not only a sinful scandal in respect of other Christian men’s
consciences, but a perfidious forsaking of his charge._ Therefore
St. Peter, in denying Christ, sinned, as being an apostle. And it is
sin in every man that should now take upon him to preach against the
power of the Pope, to leave his commission unexecuted for fear of
the fire; but in a mere traveller, not so. The three children and
Daniel were worthy champions of the true religion. But God requireth
not of every man to be a champion. As for his Lordship’s words of
_complying with the times_, they are not mine, but his own spiteful
paraphrase.
_J. D._ Thirdly, if this be not enough, he giveth licence to a
Christian to commit idolatry, or at least to do an idolatrous act,
for fear of death or corporal danger. _To pray unto a king
voluntarily for fair weather, or for anything which God only can do
for us, is Divine worship, and idolatry. On the other side, if a
king compel a man to it by the terror of death, or other great
corporal punishment, it is not idolatry._ His reason is, because _it
is not a sign, that he doth inwardly honour him as a God, but that
he is desirous to save himself from death, or from a miserable
life_. It seemeth T. H. thinketh there is no Divine worship but
internal: and that it is lawful for a man to value his own life or
his limbs more than his God. How much is he wiser than the three
children, or Daniel himself, who were thrown, the first into a fiery
furnace, the last into the lions' den, because they refused to
comply with the idolatrous decree of their sovereign prince?
_T. H._ Here also my words are truly cited. But his Lordship
understood not what the word _worship_ signifies; and yet he knew
what I meant by it. To think highly of God, as I had defined it, is
to honour him. But _to think_ is internal. To worship, is to signify
that honour, which we inwardly give, by signs _external_. This
understood, as by his Lordship it was, all he says to it, is but a
cavil.
_J. D._ A fourth aphorism may be this, _that, which is said in the
Scripture, it is better to obey God than man, hath place in the
kingdom of God by pact, and not by nature_. Why? Nature itself doth
teach us it is better to obey God than men. Neither can he say that
he intended this only of obedience in the use of indifferent actions
and gestures, in the service of God, commanded by the commonwealth:
for that is to obey both God and man. But if Divine law and human
law clash one with another, without doubt it is evermore better to
obey God than man.
_T. H._ Here again appears his unskilfulness in reasoning. Who
denies, but it is always, and in all cases, better to obey God than
man? But there is no law, neither Divine nor human, that ought to be
taken for a law, till we know what it is; and if a Divine law, till
we know that God hath commanded it to be kept. We agree that the
Scriptures are the word of God. But they are a law by pact, that is,
to us who have been baptized into the covenant. To all others it is
an invitation only to their own benefit. It is true that even nature
suggesteth to us that the law of God is to be obeyed rather than the
law of man. But nature does not suggest to us that the Scripture is
the law of God, much less how every text of it ought to be
interpreted. But who then shall suggest this? Dr. Bramhall? I deny
it. Who then? The stream of divines? Why so? Am I, that have the
Scripture itself before my eyes, obliged to venture my eternal life
upon their interpretation, how learned soever they pretend to be,
when no counter-security, that they can give me, will save me
harmless? If not the stream of divines, who then? The lawful
assembly of pastors, or of bishops? But there can be no lawful
assembly in England without the authority of the King. The
Scripture, therefore, what it is, and how to be interpreted, is made
known unto us here, by no other way than the authority of our
sovereign lord both in temporals and spirituals, the King’s Majesty.
And where he has set forth no interpretation, there I am allowed to
follow my own, as well as any other man, bishop or not bishop. For
my own part, all that know me, know also it is my opinion, that the
best government in religion is by episcopacy, but in the King’s
right, not in their own. But my Lord of Derry, not contented with
this, would have the utmost resolution of our faith to be into the
doctrine of the Schools. I do not think that all the bishops be of
his mind. If they were, I would wish them to stand in fear of that
dreadful sentence, _all covet, all lose_. I must not let pass these
words of his Lordship, _if Divine law and human law clash one with
another, without doubt it is better evermore to obey God than man_.
Where the king is a Christian, believes the Scripture, and hath the
legislative power both in church and state, and maketh no laws
concerning Christian faith, or Divine worship, but by the counsel of
his bishops whom he trusteth in that behalf; if the bishops counsel
him aright, what clashing can there be between the Divine and human
laws? For if the civil law be against God’s law, and the bishops
make it clearly appear to the king that it clasheth with Divine law,
no doubt he will mend it by himself, or by the advice of his
parliament; for else he is no professor of Christ’s doctrine, and so
the clashing is at an end. But if they think that every opinion they
hold, though obscure and unnecessary to salvation, ought presently
to be law, then there will be clashings innumerable, not only of
laws, but also of swords, as we have found it too true by late
experience. But his Lordship is still at this, that there ought to
be, for the Divine laws, that is to say for the interpretation of
Scripture, a legislative power in the church, distinct from that of
the King, which under him they enjoy already. This I deny. Then for
clashing between the civil laws of infidels with the law of God, the
apostles teach that those their civil laws are to be obeyed, but so
as to keep their faith in Christ entirely in their hearts; which is
an obedience easily performed. But I do not believe that Augustus
Cæsar or Nero was bound to make the holy Scripture law; and yet
unless they did so, they could not attain to eternal life.
_J. D._ His fifth conclusion may be, that the sharpest and most
successful sword, in any war whatsoever, doth give sovereign power
and authority to him that hath it, to approve or reject all sorts of
theological doctrines, concerning the kingdom of God, not according
to their truth or falsehood, but according to that influence which
they have upon political affairs. Hear him: _but because this
doctrine will appear to most men a novelty, I do but propound it,
maintaining nothing in this or any other paradox of religion, but
attending the end of that dispute of the sword concerning the
authority (not yet amongst my countrymen decided) by which all sorts
of doctrine are to be approved or rejected_, &c. _For, the points of
doctrine concerning the kingdom of God, have so great influence upon
the kingdom of man, as not to be determined, but by them that under
God have the sovereign power._
“———————— Careat successibus opto,
Quisquis ab eventu facta notanda putat.”
Let him evermore want success who thinketh actions are to be judged
by their events. This doctrine may be plausible to those who desire
to fish in troubled waters. But it is justly hated by those which
are in authority, and all those who are lovers of peace and
tranquillity.
The last part of this conclusion smelleth rankly of Jeroboam (1
Kings xii. 26-28): _Now shall the kingdom return to the house of
David, if this people go up to do sacrifice in the house of the Lord
at Jerusalem; whereupon the king took counsel, and made two calves
of gold, and said unto them, it is too much for you to go up to
Jerusalem, behold thy Gods, O Israel, which brought thee out of the
land of Egypt_. But by the just disposition of Almighty God, this
policy turned to a sin, and was the utter destruction of Jeroboam
and his family. It is not good jesting with edge-tools, nor playing
with holy things: where men make their greatest fastness, many times
they find most danger.
_T. H._ His Lordship either had a strange conscience, or understood
not English. Being at Paris when there was no bishop nor church in
England, and every man writ what he pleased, I resolved (when it
should please God to restore the authority ecclesiastical) to submit
to that authority, in whatsoever it should determine. This his
Lordship construes for a temporizing and too much indifferency in
religion; and says further, that the last part of my words do smell
of Jeroboam. To the contrary, I say my words were modest, and such
as in duty I ought to use. And I profess still, that whatsoever the
church of England (the church, I say, not every doctor) shall forbid
me to say in matter of faith, I shall abstain from saying it,
excepting this point, _that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, died for
my sins_. As for other doctrines, I think it unlawful, if the church
define them, for any member of the church to contradict them.
_J. D._ His sixth paradox is a rapper: _The civil laws are the rules
of good and evil, just and unjust, honest and dishonest; and
therefore what the lawgiver commands, that is to be accounted good,
what he forbids, bad_. And a little after: _Before empires were,
just and unjust were not, as whose nature is relative to a command,
every action in its own nature is indifferent_. That is, _just or
unjust proceedeth from the right of him that commandeth. Therefore
lawful kings make those things which they command just, by
commanding them, and those things which they forbid, unjust by
forbidding them._ To this add his definition of a sin, _that which
one doth, or omitteth, saith, or willeth, contrary to the reason of
the commonwealth, that is, the (civil) laws_. Where by the laws he
doth not understand the written laws, elected and approved by the
whole commonwealth, but the verbal commands or mandates of him that
hath the sovereign power, as we find in many places of his writings.
_The civil laws are nothing else but the commands of him, that is
endowed with sovereign power in the commonwealth, concerning the
future actions of his subjects. And the civil laws are fastened to
the lips of that man who hath the sovereign power._
Where are we? In Europe? or in Asia, where they ascribed a divinity
to their kings, and, to use his own phrase, made _them mortal gods;
O king, live for ever_? Flatterers are the common moths of great
palaces, where Alexander’s friends are more numerous than the king’s
friends. But such gross, palpable, pernicious flattery as this is, I
did never meet with, so derogatory both to piety and policy. What
deserveth he who should do his uttermost endeavour to poison a
common fountain, whereof all the commonwealth must drink? He doth
the same who poisoneth the mind of a sovereign prince.
Are _the civil laws the rules of good and bad, just and unjust,
honest and dishonest_? And what, I pray you, are the rules of the
civil law itself? Even the law of God and Nature. If the civil laws
swerve from these more authentic laws, they are Lesbian rules. _What
the lawgiver commands is to be accounted good, what he forbids,
bad._ This was just the garb of the Athenian sophisters, as they are
described by Plato. Whatsoever pleased the great beast, the
multitude, they call holy, and just, and good. And whatsoever the
great beast disliked, they called evil, unjust, profane. But he is
not yet arrived at the height of his flattery. _Lawful kings make
those things, which they command, just by commanding them._ At other
times, when he is in his right wits, he talketh of sufferings, and
_expecting their reward in heaven. And going to Christ by martyrdom.
And if he had the fortitude to suffer death he should do better._
But I fear all this was but said in jest. How should they expect
their reward in heaven, if his doctrine be true, _that there is no
reward in heaven_? Or how should they be martyrs, if his doctrine be
true, that _none can be martyrs, but those who conversed with Christ
upon earth_? He addeth, _before empires were, just and unjust were
not_. Nothing could be written more false in his sense, more
dishonourable to God, more inglorious to the human nature; than that
God should create man, and leave him presently without any rules, to
his own ordering of himself, as the ostrich leaveth her eggs in the
sand. But in truth there have been empires in the world ever since
Adam. And Adam had a law written in his heart by the finger of God,
before there was any civil law. Thus they do endeavour to make
goodness, and justice, and honesty, and conscience, and God himself,
to be empty names, without any reality, which signify nothing,
further than they conduce to a man’s interest. Otherwise he would
not, he could not, say, that _every action as it is invested with
its circumstances, is indifferent in its own nature_.
_T. H._ My sixth paradox he calls a rapper. A rapper, a swapper, and
such like terms, are his Lordship’s elegancies. But let us see what
this rapper is: it is this; the civil laws are the rules of good and
evil, just and unjust, honest and dishonest. Truly, I see no other
rules they have. The Scriptures themselves were made law to us here,
by the authority of the commonwealth, and are therefore part of the
law civil. If they were laws in their own nature, then were they
laws over all the world, and men were obliged to obey them in
America, as soon as they should be shown there, though without a
miracle, by a friar. What is unjust, but the transgression of a law?
_Law_ therefore was before unjust: and the law was made known by
sovereign power before it was a law: therefore _sovereign power_ was
antecedent both to _law_ and _injustice_. Who then made unjust but
sovereign kings or sovereign assemblies? Where is now the wonder of
this rapper, _that lawful kings make those things which they command
just, by commanding them, and those things which they forbid unjust,
by forbidding them_? Just and unjust were surely made. If the king
made them not, who made them else? For certainly the breach of a
civil law is a sin against God. Another calumny which he would fix
upon me, is, that I make the King’s verbal commands to be laws. How
so? Because I say, _the civil laws are nothing else but the commands
of him that hath the sovereign power, concerning the future actions
of his subjects_. What verbal command of a king can arrive at the
ears of all his subjects, which it must do ere it be a law, without
the seal of the person of the commonwealth, which is here the Great
Seal of England? Who, but his Lordship, ever denied that the command
of England was a law to Englishmen? Or that any but the King had
authority to affix the Great Seal of England to any writing? And who
did ever doubt to call our laws, though made in Parliament, the
King’s laws? What was ever called a law, which the King did not
assent to? Because the King has granted in divers cases not to make
a law without the advice and assent of the lords and commons,
therefore when there is no parliament in being, shall the Great Seal
of England stand for nothing? What was more unjustly maintained
during the Long Parliament, besides the resisting and murdering of
the King, than this doctrine of his Lordship’s? But the Bishop
endeavoured here to make the multitude believe I maintain, that the
King sinneth not, though he bid hang a man for making his apparel
otherwise than he appointed, or his servant for negligent
attendance. And yet he knew I distinguished always between the
King’s natural and politic capacity. What name should I give to this
wilful slander? But here his Lordship enters into passion, and
exclaims: _Where are we, in Europe or in Asia? Gross, palpable,
pernicious flattery, poisoning of a commonwealth, poisoning the
King’s mind._ But where was his Lordship when he wrote this? One
would not think he was in France, nor that this doctrine was written
in the year 1658, but rather in the year 1648, in some cabal of the
King’s enemies. But what did put him into this fit of choler?
Partly, this very thing, that he could not answer my reasons; but
chiefly, that he had lost upon me so much School-learning in our
controversy touching _Liberty and Necessity_: wherein he was to
blame himself, for believing that the obscure and barbarous language
of School-divinity, could satisfy an ingenuous reader, as well as
plain and perspicuous English. Do I flatter the King? Why am I not
rich? I confess his Lordship has not flattered him here.
_J. D._ Something there is which he hath a confused glimmering of,
as the blind man sees _men walking like trees_, which he is not able
to apprehend and express clearly. We acknowledge, that though the
laws or commands of a sovereign prince be erroneous, or unjust, or
injurious, such as a subject cannot approve for good in themselves;
yet he is bound to acquiesce, and may not oppose or resist,
otherwise than by prayers and tears, and at the most by flight. We
acknowledge that the civil laws have power to bind the conscience of
a Christian, in themselves, but not from themselves, but from him
who hath said, _Let every soul be subject to the higher powers_.
Either they bind Christian subjects to do their sovereign’s
commands, or to suffer for the testimony of a good conscience. We
acknowledge that in doubtful cases, _semper præsumitur pro rege et
lege_, the sovereign and the law are always presumed to be in the
right. But in plain evident cases, which admit no doubt, it is
always better to obey God than man. Blunderers, whilst they think to
mend one imaginary hole, make two or three real ones. They who
derive the authority of the Scriptures or God’s law from the civil
laws of men, are like those who seek to underprop the heavens from
falling, with a bulrush. Nay, they derive not only the authority of
the Scripture, but even the law of nature itself, from the civil
law. _The laws of nature_ (which need no promulgation) _in the
condition of nature are not properly laws, but qualities which
dispose men to peace and obedience. When a commonwealth is once
settled, then are they actually laws, and not before._ God help us,
into what times are we fallen, when the immutable laws of God and
nature are made to depend upon the mutable laws of mortal men, just
as one should go about to control the sun by the authority of the
clock.
_T. H._ Hitherto he never offered to mend any of the doctrines he
inveighs against; but here he does. He says I have a glimmering of
something I was not able to apprehend and express clearly. Let us
see his Lordship’s more clear expression. _We acknowledge_, saith
he, _that though the laws or commands of a sovereign prince be
erroneous, or unjust, or injurious, such as a subject cannot approve
for good in themselves, yet he is bound to acquiesce, and may not
oppose or resist otherwise than by prayers and tears, and at the
most by flight_. Hence it follows clearly, that when a sovereign has
made a law, though erroneous, then, if his subject oppose it, it is
a sin. Therefore I would fain know, when a man has broken that law
by doing what it forbad, or by refusing to do what it commanded,
whether he have opposed this law or not. If to break the law be to
oppose it, he granteth it. Therefore his Lordship has not here
expressed himself so clearly, as to make men understand the
difference between breaking a law and opposing it. Though there be
some difference between breaking of a law, and opposing those that
are sent with force to see it executed; yet between breaking and
opposing the law itself, there is no difference. Also, though the
subject think the law just, as when a thief is by law condemned to
die, yet he may lawfully oppose the execution, not only by prayers,
tears, and flight, but also (as I think) any way he can. For though
his fault were never so great, yet his endeavour to save his own
life is not a fault. For the law expects it, and for that cause
appointeth felons to be carried bound and encompassed with armed men
to execution. Nothing is opposite to law, but sin: nothing opposite
to the sheriff, but force. So that his Lordship’s sight was not
sharp enough to see the difference between the law and the officer.
Again, _We acknowledge_, says he, _that the laws have power to bind
the conscience of a Christian in themselves, but not from
themselves_. Neither do the Scriptures bind the conscience because
they are Scriptures, but because they were from God. So also the
book of English Statutes bindeth our consciences in itself, but not
from itself, but from the authority of the king, who only in the
right of God has the legislative powers. Again he saith, _We
acknowledge that in doubtful cases, the sovereign and the law are
always presumed to be in the right_. If he presume they are in the
right, how dare he presume that the cases they determine are
doubtful? _But_, saith he, _in evident cases which admit no doubt,
it is always better to obey God than man_. Yes, and in doubtful
cases also, say I. But not always better to obey the inferior
pastors than the supreme pastor, which is the king. But what are
those cases that admit no doubt? I know but very few, and those are
such as his Lordship was not much acquainted with.
_J. D._ But it is not worthy of my labour, nor any part of my
intention, to pursue every shadow of a question which he springeth.
It shall suffice to gather a posy of flowers (or rather a bundle of
weeds) out of his writings, and present them to the reader, who will
easily distinguish them from healthful plants by the rankness of
their smell. Such are these which follow.
_T. H._ As for the following posy of flowers, there wants no more to
make them sweet, than to wipe off the venom blown upon some of them
by his Lordship’s breath.
_J. D._ 1. _To be delighted in the imagination only of being
possessed of another man’s goods, servants, or wife, without any
intention to take them from him by force or fraud, is no breach of
the law which saith: Thou shalt not covet._
_T. H._ What man was there ever, whose imagination of anything he
thought would please him, was not some delight? Or what sin is
there, where there is not so much as an intention to do injustice?
But his Lordship would not distinguish between delight and purpose,
nor between a wish and a will. This was venom. I believe that his
Lordship himself, even before he was married, took some delight in
the thought of it, and yet the woman then was not his own. All love
is delight, but all love is not sin. Without this love of that which
is not yet a man’s own, the world had not been peopled.
_J. D._ 2. _If a man by the terror of present death be compelled to
do a fact against the law, he is totally excused, because no law can
oblige a man to abandon his own preservation; nature compelleth him
to the fact._ The like doctrine he hath elsewhere. _When the actor
doth anything against the law of nature by the command of the
author, if he be obliged by former covenants to obey him, not he,
but the author breaketh the law of nature._
_T. H._ The second flower is both sweet and wholesome.
_J. D._ 3. _It is a doctrine repugnant to civil society, that
whatsoever a man does against his conscience, is sin._
_T. H._ It is plain, that to do what a man thinks in his own
conscience to be sin, is sin; for it is a contempt of the law
itself; and from thence ignorant men, out of an erroneous
conscience, disobey the law, which is pernicious to all government.
_J. D._ 4. _The kingdom of God is not shut but to them that sin,
that is, to them who have not performed due obedience to the laws of
God; nor to them, if they believe the necessary articles of the
Christian faith._
5. _We must know that the true acknowledging of sin is repentance
itself._
6. _An opinion publicly appointed to be taught cannot be heresy; nor
the sovereign princes that authorized the same, heretics._
_T. H._ The fourth, fifth, and sixth smell well. But to say, that
the sovereign prince in England is a heretic, or that an act of
parliament is heretical, stinks abominably; as it was thought _primo
Elizabethæ_.
_J. D._ 7. _Temporal and spiritual government are but two words to
make men see double, and mistake their lawful sovereign, &c. There
is no other government in this life, neither of state nor religion,
but temporal._
8. _It is manifest, that they, who permit a contrary doctrine to
that which themselves believe and think necessary_ (to salvation),
_do against their consciences, and will, as much as in them lieth,
the eternal destruction of their subjects_.
_T. H._ The seventh and eighth are roses and jessamine. But his
leaving out the words (_to salvation_) was venom.
_J. D._ 9. _Subjects sin if they do not worship God according to the
laws of the commonwealth._
_T. H._ The ninth he hath poisoned, and made it not mine. He quotes
my book _De Cive_, cap. XV. 19, where I say, _regnante Deo per solam
rationem naturalem_, that is, _before the Scripture was given_, they
sinned that refused to worship God, according to the rites and
ceremonies of the country; which hath no ill scent, but to undutiful
subjects.
_J. D._ 10. _To believe in Jesus (in Jesum), is the same as to
believe that Jesus is Christ._
_T. H._ And so it is always in the Scripture.
_J. D._ 11. _There can be no contradiction between the laws of God,
and the laws of a Christian commonwealth._ Yet, we see Christian
commonwealths daily contradict one another.
_T. H._ The eleventh is also good. But his Lordship’s instance,
_that Christian commonwealths contradict one another_, has nothing
to do here. Their laws do indeed contradict one another, but
contradict not the law of God. For God commands their subjects to
obey them in all things, and his Lordship himself confesseth that
their laws, though erroneous, bind the conscience. But Christian
commonwealths would seldom contradict one another, if they made no
doctrine law, but such as were necessary to salvation.
_J. D._ 12. _No man giveth but with intention of some good to
himself. Of all voluntary acts, the object is to every man his own
good._ Moses, St. Paul, and the Decii were not of his mind.
_T. H._ That which his Lordship adds to the twelfth, namely, that
Moses, St. Paul, and the Decii were not of my mind, is false. For
the two former did what they did for a good to themselves, which was
eternal life; and the Decii for a good fame after death. And his
Lordship also, if he had believed there is an eternal happiness to
come, or thought a good fame after death to be anything worth, would
have directed all his actions towards them, and have despised the
wealth and titles of the present world.
_J. D._ 13. _There is no natural knowledge of man’s estate after
death, much less of reward which is then to be given to breach of
faith, but only a belief grounded upon other men’s saying, that they
know it supernaturally, or that they know those that knew them that
knew others that knew it supernaturally._
_T. H._ The thirteenth is good and fresh.
_J. D._ 14. _David’s killing of Uriah was no injury to Uriah;
because the right to do what he pleased, was given him by Uriah
himself._
_T. H._ David himself makes this good, in saying, _to thee only have
I sinned_.
_J. D._ 15. _To whom it belongeth to determine controversies which
may arise from the divers interpretations of Scripture, he hath an
imperial power over all men, which acknowledge the Scripture to be
the word of God._
16. _What is theft, what is murder, what is adultery, and
universally what is an injury, is known by the civil law, that is,
by the commands of the sovereign._
_T. H._ For the fifteenth, he should have disputed it with the head
of the church. And as to the sixteenth, I would have asked him by
what other law his Lordship would have it determined what is theft,
or what is injury, than by the laws made in parliament, or by the
laws which distinguish between _meum_ and _tuum_? His Lordship’s
ignorance smells rankly ('tis his own phrase in this and many other
places, which I have let pass) of his own interest. The King tells
us what is sin, in that he tells us what is law. He hath authorized
the clergy to dehort the people from sin, and to exhort them, by
good motives both from Scripture and reason, to obey the laws; and
supposeth them (though under forty years old), by the help they have
in the university, able, in case the law be not written, to teach
the people, old and young, what they ought to follow in doubtful
cases of conscience; that is to say, they are authorized to expound
the laws of nature; but not so as to make it a doubtful case,
whether the King’s laws be to be obeyed or not. All they ought to
do, is from the King’s authority. And therefore this my doctrine is
no weed.
_J. D._ 17. He admitteth incestuous _copulations_ of the heathens,
_according to their heathenish laws, to have been lawful marriages_.
Though the Scripture teach us (Levit. xviii. 28) expressly, that for
those abominations the land of Canaan spued out her inhabitants.
_T. H._ The seventeenth he hath corrupted with a false
interpretation of the text. For in that chapter, from the beginning
to verse twenty, are forbidden marriages in certain degrees of
kindred. From verse twenty, which begins with _Moreover_, to the
twenty-eighth, are forbidden sacrificing of children to Moloch, and
profaning of God’s name, and buggery with man and beast, with this
cause expressed, (_For all these abominations have the men of the
land done which were before you, and the land is defiled_,) _that
the land spue not you out also_. As for marriages within the degrees
prohibited, they are not referred to the abominations of the
heathen. Besides, for some time after Adam, such marriages were
necessary.
_J. D._ 18. _I say that no other article of faith besides this, that
Jesus is Christ, is necessary to a Christian man for salvation._
19. _Because Christ’s kingdom is not of this world, therefore
neither can his ministers, unless they be kings, require obedience
in his name. They have no right of commanding, no power to make
laws._
_T. H._ These two smell comfortably, and of Scripture. The contrary
doctrine smells of ambition and encroachment of jurisdiction, or
rump of the Roman tyranny.
_J. D._ 20. I pass by his errors about oaths, about vows, about the
resurrection, about the kingdom of Christ, about the power of the
keys, binding, loosing, excommunication, &c., his ignorant mistakes
of _meritum congrui_ and _condigni_, active and passive obedience,
and many more, for fear of being tedious to the reader.
_T. H._ The terms of School divinity, of which number are _meritum
congrui_, _meritum condigni_, and _passive obedience_, are so
obscure, as no man living can tell what they mean; so that they that
use them may admit or deny their meaning, as it shall serve their
turns. I said not that this was their meaning, but that I thought it
was so. For no man living can tell what a Schoolman means by his
words. Therefore I expounded them according to their true
signification. Merit _ex condigno_, is when a thing is deserved by
pact; as when I say the labourer is worthy of his hire, I mean
_meritum ex condigno_. But when a man of his own grace throweth
money among the people, with an intention that what part soever of
it any of them could catch he should have, he that catcheth merits
it, not by pact, nor by precedent merit, as a labourer, but because
it was congruent to the purpose of him that cast it amongst them. In
all other meaning these words are but jargon, which his Lordship had
learnt by rote. Also _passive obedience_ signifies nothing, except
it may be called _passive obedience_ when a man refraineth himself
from doing what the law hath forbidden. For in his Lordship’s sense,
the thief that is hanged for stealing, hath fulfilled the law; which
I think is absurd.
_J. D._ His whole works are a heap of mis-shapen errors, and absurd
paradoxes, vented with the confidence of a juggler, the brags of a
mountebank, and the authority of some Pythagoras, or third Cato,
lately dropped down from heaven.
Thus we have seen how the Hobbian principles do destroy the
existence, the simplicity, the ubiquity, the eternity, and
infiniteness of God, the doctrine of the Blessed Trinity, the
hypostatical union, the kingly, sacerdotal, and prophetical office
of Christ, the being and operation of the Holy Ghost, heaven, hell,
angels, devils, the immortality of the soul, the Catholic and all
national churches; the holy Scriptures, holy orders, the holy
sacraments, the whole frame of religion, and the worship of God; the
laws of nature, the reality of goodness, justice, piety, honesty,
conscience, and all that is sacred. If his disciples have such an
implicit faith, that they can digest all these things, they may feed
with _ostriches_.
_T. H._ He here concludes his first chapter with bitter reproaches,
to leave in his reader, as he thought, a sting; supposing perhaps
that he will read nothing but the beginning and end of his book, as
is the custom of many men. But to make him lose that petty piece of
cunning, I must desire of the reader one of these two things. Either
that he would read with it the places of my _Leviathan_ which he
cites, and see not only how he answers my arguments, but also what
the arguments are which he produceth against them; or else, that he
would forbear to condemn me, so much as in his thought: for
otherwise he is unjust. The name of Bishop is of great authority;
but these words are not the words of a bishop, but of a passionate
Schoolman, too fierce and unseemly in any man whatsoever. Besides,
they are untrue. Who that knows me, will say that I have the
confidence of a juggler, or that I use to brag of anything, much
less that I play the mountebank? What my works are, he was no fit
judge. But now he has provoked me, I will say thus much of them,
that neither he, (if he had lived), nor I, if I would, could
extinguish the light which is set up in the world by the greatest
part of them: and for these doctrines which he impugneth, I have few
opposers, but such whose profit, or whose fame in learning is
concerned in them. He accuses me first of destroying the existence
of God; that is to say, he would make the world believe I were an
atheist. But upon what ground? Because I say, that God is a spirit,
but _corporeal_. But to say that, is allowed me by St. Paul, that
says (1 Cor. xv. 44): _There is a spiritual body, and there is an
animal body_. He that holds there is a God, and that God is really
somewhat, (for _body_ is doubtlessly a _real substance_), is as far
from being an atheist, as it is possible to be. But he that says God
is an _incorporeal substance_, no man can be sure whether he be an
atheist or not. For no man living can tell whether there be any
_substance_ at all, that is not also _corporeal_. For neither the
word _incorporeal_, nor _immaterial_, nor any word equivalent to it,
is to be found in Scripture, or in reason. But on the contrary, that
_the Godhead dwelleth bodily in Christ_, is found in Colos. ii. 9;
and Tertullian maintains that God is either a _corporeal substance_
or _nothing_. Nor was he ever condemned for it by the church. For
why? Not only Tertullian, but all the learned, call _body_, not only
that which one can see, but also whatsoever has magnitude, or that
is somewhere; for they had greater reverence for the divine
substance, than that they durst think it had no _magnitude_, or was
_nowhere_. But they that hold God to be a phantasm, as did the
exorcists in the Church of Rome, that is, such a thing as were at
that time thought to be the sprights, that were said to walk in
churchyards and to be the souls of men buried, do absolutely make
God to be nothing at all. But how? Were they atheists? No. For
though by ignorance of the consequence they said that which was
equivalent to atheism, yet in their hearts they thought God a
substance, and would also, if they had known what _substance_ and
what _corporeal_ meant, have said he was a corporeal substance. So
that this _atheism by consequence_ is a very easy thing to be fallen
into, even by the most godly men of the church. He also that says
that God is _wholly here_, and _wholly there_, and _wholly every
where_, destroys by consequence the unity of God, and the
infiniteness of God, and the simplicity of God. And this the
Schoolmen do, and are therefore _atheists by consequence_, and yet
they do not all say in their hearts that there is no God. So also
his Lordship by exempting the will of man from being subject to the
necessity of God’s will or decree, denies by _consequence_ the
Divine prescience, which also will amount to _atheism by
consequence_. But out of this, that God is a _spirit corporeal_ and
_infinitely pure_, there can no unworthy or dishonourable
consequence be drawn.
Thus far to his Lordships first chapter, in justification of my
_Leviathan_ as to matter of religion; and especially to wipe off
that unjust slander cast upon me by the Bishop of Derry. As for the
second chapter, which concerns my civil doctrines, since my errors
there, if there be any, will not tend very much to my disgrace, I
will not take the pains to answer it.
Whereas his Lordship has talked in his discourse here and there
ignorantly of heresy, and some others have not doubted to say
publicly, that there be many heresies in my _Leviathan_; I will add
hereunto, for a general answer, an historical relation concerning
the word Heresy, from the first use of it amongst the Grecians till
this present time.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
AN
HISTORICAL NARRATION
CONCERNING
HERESY,
AND
THE PUNISHMENT THEREOF.
-------
“Nam veluti pueri trepidant, atque omnia cæcis
In tenebris metuunt: sic nos in luce timemus
Interdum, nihilo quæ sunt metuenda magis, quam
Quæ pueri in tenebris pavitant, finguntque futura.”
LUCRETIUS, Lib. II. 54-57.
HÆRESEɷS LARVAS, SECTARUM IMMANIA MONSTRA
HOBBIUS INVICTO DISPULIT INGENIO.
CONCERNING HERESY,
AND
THE PUNISHMENT THEREOF.
--------------
The word _heresy_ is Greek, and signifies a taking of any thing, and
particularly the taking of an opinion. After the study of philosophy
began in Greece, and the philosophers, disagreeing amongst
themselves, had started many questions, not only about things
natural, but also moral and civil; because every man took what
opinion he pleased, each several opinion was called a _heresy_;
which signified no more than a private opinion, without reference to
truth or falsehood. The beginners of these heresies were chiefly
Pythagoras, Plato, Aristotle, Epicurus, Zeno; men, who as they held
many errors, so also found they out many true and useful doctrines,
in all kinds of learning: and for that cause were well esteemed of
by the greatest personages of their own times; and so also were some
few of their followers.
But the rest, ignorant men, and very often needy knaves, having
learned by heart the opinions of these admired philosophers, and
pretending to take after them, made use thereof to get their living
by the teaching of rich men’s children that happened to be in love
with those great names: though by their impertinent discourse,
sordid and ridiculous manners, they were generally despised, of what
sect or heresy soever; whether they were Pythagoreans; or Academics,
followers of Plato; or Peripatetics, followers of Aristotle;
Epicureans; or Stoics, followers of Zeno. For these were the names
of heresies, or, as the Latins call them, _sects, a sequendo_, so
much talked of from after the time of Alexander till this present
day, and that have perpetually troubled or deceived the people with
whom they lived, and were never more numerous than in the time of
the primitive church.
The heresy of Aristotle, by the revolutions of time, has had the
good fortune to be predominant over the rest. However, originally
the name of _heresy_ was no disgrace, nor the word _heretic_ at all
in use: though the several sects, especially the Epicureans and the
Stoics, hated one another; and the Stoics, being the fiercer men,
used to revile those that differed from them, with the most
despiteful words they could invent.
It cannot be doubted, but that, by the preaching of the apostles and
disciples of Christ, in Greece and other parts of the Roman empire
full of these philosophers, many thousands of men were converted to
the Christian faith, some really, and some feignedly, for factious
ends, or for need; for Christians lived then in common, and were
charitable. And because most of these philosophers had better skill
in disputing and oratory than the common people, and thereby were
better qualified both to defend and propagate the Gospel, there is
no doubt, I say, but most of the pastors of the primitive church
were for that reason chosen out of the number of these philosophers;
who retaining still many doctrines which they had taken up on the
authority of their former masters, whom they had in reverence,
endeavoured many of them to draw the Scriptures every one to his own
heresy. And thus at first entered heresy into the church of Christ.
Yet these men were all of them Christians; as they were, when they
were first baptized. Nor did they deny the authority of those
writings which were left them by the Apostles and Evangelists,
though they interpreted them, many times, with a bias to their
former philosophy. And this dissention amongst themselves, was a
great scandal to the unbelievers, and which not only obstructed the
way of the Gospel, but also drew scorn and greater persecution upon
the church.
For remedy whereof, the chief pastors of churches did use, at the
rising of any new opinion, to assemble themselves for the examining
and determining of the same. Wherein, if the author of the opinion
were convinced of his error, and subscribed to the sentence of the
church assembled, then all was well again: but if he still persisted
in it, they laid him aside, and considered him but as an heathen
man; which to an unfeigned Christian, was a great ignominy, and of
force to make him consider better of his own doctrine; and sometimes
brought him to the acknowledgment of the truth. But other punishment
they could inflict none; that being a right appropriated to the
civil power. So that all the punishment the church could inflict,
was only ignominy; and that among the faithful, consisting in this,
that his company was by all the godly avoided, and he himself
branded with the name of _heretic_, in opposition to the whole
church, that condemned his doctrine. So that _catholic_ and
_heretic_ were terms relative; and here it was that _heretic_ came
to be a name, and a name of disgrace, both together.
The first and most troublesome heresies of the primitive church,
were about the Trinity. For, according to the usual curiosity of
natural philosophers, they could not abstain from disputing the very
first principles of Christianity, into which they were baptized, _in
the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost_. Some there
were that made them allegorical. Others would make one creator of
good, and another of evil; which was in effect to set up two Gods,
one contrary to another; supposing that causation of evil could not
be attributed to God, without impiety. From which doctrine they are
not far distant, that now make the first cause of sinful actions to
be every man as to his own sin. Others there were, that would have
God to be a body with parts organical, as face, hands, fore-parts,
and back-parts. Others, that Christ had no real body, but was a mere
phantasm: for phantasms were taken then, and have been ever since,
by unlearned and superstitious men, for things real and subsistent.
Others denied the divinity of Christ. Others, that Christ, being God
and man, was two persons. Others confessed he was one person, and
withal that he had but one nature. And a great many other heresies
arose from the too much adherence to the philosophy of those times:
whereof some were suppressed for a time by St. John’s publishing his
Gospel, and some by their own unreasonableness vanished, and some
lasted till the time of Constantine the Great, and after.
When Constantine the Great, made so by the assistance and valour of
the Christian soldiers, had attained to be the only Roman Emperor,
he also himself became a Christian, and caused the temples of the
heathen gods to be demolished, and authorised Christian religion
only to be public. But towards the latter end of his time, there
arose a dispute in the city of Alexandria, between Alexander the
Bishop, and Arius, a presbyter of the same city; wherein Arius
maintained, first, that Christ was inferior to his Father; and
afterwards, that he was no God, alleging the words of Christ, _my
Father is greater than I_: the bishop, on the contrary, alleging the
words of St. John, _and the word was God_; and the words of St.
Thomas, _my Lord and my God_. This controversy presently, amongst
the inhabitants and soldiers of Alexandria, became a quarrel, and
was the cause of much bloodshed in and about the city; and was
likely then to spread further, as afterwards it did. This so far
concerned the Emperor’s civil government, that he thought it
necessary to call a general council of all the bishops and other
eminent divines throughout the Roman Empire, to meet at the city of
Nice. When they were assembled, they presented the Emperor with
libels of accusation one against another. When he had received these
libels into his hands, he made an oration to the fathers assembled,
exhorting them to agree, and to fall in hand with the settlement of
the articles of faith, for which cause he had assembled them;
saying, whatsoever they should decree therein, he would cause to be
observed. This may perhaps seem a greater indifferency, than would
in these days be approved of. But so it is in the history; and the
articles of faith necessary to salvation, were not thought then to
be so many as afterwards they were defined to be by the Church of
Rome.
When Constantine had ended his oration, he caused the aforesaid
libels to be cast into the fire, as became a wise king and a
charitable Christian. This done, the fathers fell in hand with their
business, and following the method of a former creed, now commonly
called _the Apostles' Creed_, made a confession of faith, _viz._: I
BELIEVE IN ONE GOD, THE FATHER ALMIGHTY, MAKER OF HEAVEN AND EARTH,
AND OF ALL THINGS VISIBLE AND INVISIBLE: in which is condemned the
polytheism of the Gentiles: AND IN ONE LORD JESUS CHRIST, THE ONLY
BEGOTTEN SON OF GOD: against the many sons of the many Gods of the
heathen: BEGOTTEN OF HIS FATHER BEFORE ALL WORLDS, GOD OF GOD:
against the Arians: VERY GOD OF VERY GOD: against the Valentinians,
and against the heresy of Apelles and others, who made Christ a mere
phantasm: LIGHT OF LIGHT: this was put in for explication, and used
before to that purpose by Tertullian: BEGOTTEN, NOT MADE, BEING OF
ONE SUBSTANCE WITH THE FATHER: in this again they condemn the
doctrine of Arius. For this word, _of one substance_, in Latin
_consubstantialis_, but in Greek ὁμοούσιος, that is, _of one
essence_, was put as a touchstone to discern an Arian from a
Catholic; and much ado there was about it. Constantine himself, at
the passing of this creed, took notice of it for a hard word; but
yet approved of it, saying, that in a divine mystery it was fit to
use _divina et arcana verba_; that is, divine words, and hidden from
human understanding: calling that word ὁμοούσιος, divine, not
because it was in the divine Scripture, (for it is not there) but
because it was to him _arcanum_, that is, not sufficiently
understood. _And in this again appeared the indifferency of the
Emperor, and that he had for his end, in the calling of the Synod,
not so much the truth, as the uniformity of the doctrine, and peace
of his people that depended on it._ The cause of the obscurity of
this word ὁμοούσιος, proceeded chiefly from the difference between
the Greek and Roman dialect, in the philosophy of the Peripatetics.
The first principle of religion in all nations, is, _that God is_,
that is to say, that God really is something, and not a mere fancy;
but that which is really something, is considerable alone by itself,
as being _somewhere_. In which sense a man is a thing real; for I
can consider him _to be_, without considering any other thing _to
be_ besides him. And for the same reason, the earth, the air, the
stars, heaven, and their parts, are all of them things real. And
because whatsoever is real here, or there, or in any place, has
dimensions, that is to say, magnitude; that which hath magnitude,
whether it be visible or invisible, finite or infinite, is called by
all the learned a _body_. It followeth, that all real things, in
that they are _somewhere_, are corporeal. On the contrary, essence,
deity, humanity, and such like names, signify nothing that can be
considered, without first considering there is an _ens_, a god, a
man, &c. So also if there be any real thing that is _white_ or
_black_, _hot_ or _cold_, the same may be considered by itself; but
whiteness, blackness, heat, coldness, cannot be considered, unless
it be first supposed that there is some real thing to which they are
attributed. These real things are called by the Latin philosophers,
_entia_, _subjecta_, _substantiæ_; and by the Greek philosophers, τὰ
ὄντα ὑποκειμενα, ὑποστάμενα. The other, which are incorporeal, are
called by the Greek philosophers, οὐσία συμβεβηχότα, φαντάσματα; but
most of the Latin philosophers used to convert οὐσία into
_substantia_, and so confound real and corporeal things with
incorporeal: which is not well; for essence and substance signify
divers things. And this mistake is received, and continues still in
these parts, in all disputes, both of philosophy and divinity; for
in truth _essentia_ signifies no more, than if we should talk
ridiculously of the _isness_ of the thing that is. BY WHOM ALL
THINGS WERE MADE. This is proved out of St. John i. 1, 2, 3, and
Heb. i. 3, and that again out of Gen. i. where God is said to create
every thing by his sole word, as when he said: _Let there be light,
and there was light_. And then, that Christ was that Word, and in
the beginning with God, may be gathered out of divers places of
Moses, David, and other of the prophets. Nor was it ever questioned
amongst Christians, except by the Arians, but that Christ was God
eternal, and his incarnation eternally decreed. But the Fathers, all
that write expositions on this creed, could not forbear to
philosophize upon it, and most of them out of the principles of
Aristotle; which are the same the Schoolmen now use; as may partly
appear by this, that many of them, amongst their treatises of
religion, have affected to publish principles of logic and physics
according to the sense of Aristotle; as Athanasius, and Damascene.
And so some later divines of note, still confound the concrete with
the abstract, _deus_ with _deitas_, _ens_ with _essentia_, _sapiens_
with _sapientia_, _æternus_ with _æternitas_. If it be for exact and
rigid truth sake, why do they not say also, that holiness is a holy
man, covetousness a covetous man, hypocrisy an hypocrite, and
drunkenness a drunkard, and the like, but that it is an error? The
Fathers agree that the Wisdom of God is the eternal Son of God, by
whom all things were made, and that he was incarnate by the Holy
Ghost, if they meant it in the abstract: for if _deitas_ abstracted
be _deus_, we make two Gods of one. This was well understood by John
Damascene, in his treatise _De Fide Orthodoxa_, which is an
exposition of the Nicene creed; where he denies absolutely that
_deitas_ is _deus_, lest seeing God was made man, it should follow,
the Deity was made man; which is contrary to the doctrine of all the
Nicene Fathers. The attributes therefore of God in the abstract,
when they are put for God, are put _metonymically_; which is a
common thing in Scripture; for example, Prov. viii. 25, where it is
said: _before the mountains were settled, before the hills, was I
brought forth_; the wisdom there spoken of, being the wisdom of God,
signifies the same with the wise God. This kind of speaking is also
ordinary in all languages. This considered, such abstracted words
ought not to be used in arguing, and especially in the deducing the
articles of our faith; though in the language of God’s eternal
worship, and in all godly discourses, they cannot be avoided; and
the creed itself is less difficult to be assented to in its own
words, than in all such expositions of the Fathers. WHO FOR US MEN
AND OUR SALVATION CAME DOWN FROM HEAVEN, AND WAS INCARNATE BY THE
HOLY GHOST OF THE VIRGIN MARY, AND WAS MADE MAN. I have not read of
any exception to this; for where Athanasius in his creed says of the
Son, _He was not made, but begotten_, it is to be understood of the
Son as he was God eternal; whereas here it is spoken of the Son as
he is man. And of the Son, also as he was man, it may be said he was
begotten of the Holy Ghost; for a woman conceiveth not, but of him
that begetteth; which is also confirmed, (Matth. i. xx): _That which
is begotten in her_, (τὸ γενεθεν), _is of the Holy Ghost_. AND WAS
ALSO CRUCIFIED FOR US UNDER PONTIUS PILATE: HE SUFFERED AND WAS
BURIED: AND THE THIRD DAY HE ROSE AGAIN ACCORDING TO THE SCRIPTURES,
AND ASCENDED INTO HEAVEN, AND SITTETH ON THE RIGHT HAND OF THE
FATHER: AND HE SHALL COME AGAIN WITH GLORY TO JUDGE BOTH THE QUICK
AND THE DEAD. WHOSE KINGDOM SHALL HAVE NO END. Of this part of the
creed I have not met with any doubt made by any Christian. Hither
the Council of Nice proceeded in their general confession of faith,
and no further.
This finished, some of the bishops present at the Council
(seventeen or eighteen, whereof Eusebius Bishop of Cæsarea was
one) not sufficiently satisfied, refused to subscribe till this
doctrine of ὁμοούσιος should be better explained. Thereupon the
Council decreed, that whosoever shall say that God hath parts,
shall be anathematized; to which the said bishops subscribed. And
Eusebius, by order of the Council, wrote a letter, the copies
whereof were sent to every absent bishop, that being satisfied
with the reason of their subscribing, they also should subscribe.
The reason they gave of their subscription was this, _that they
had now a form of words prescribed, by which, as a rule, they
might guide themselves so, as not to violate the peace of the
church_. By this it is manifest, that no man was an heretic, but
he that in plain and direct words contradicted that form by the
church prescribed, and that no man could be made _an heretic by
consequence_. And because the said form was not put into the body
of the creed, but directed only to the bishops, there was no
reason to punish any lay-person that should speak to the contrary.
But what was the meaning of this doctrine, _that God has no parts_?
Was it made heresy to say, that God, who is a real substance, cannot
be considered or spoken of as _here_ or _there_, or any where, which
are parts of places? Or that there is any real thing without length
every way, that is to say, which hath no magnitude at all, finite,
nor infinite? Or is there any whole substance, whose two halves or
three thirds are not the same with that whole? Or did they mean to
condemn the argument of Tertullian, by which he confuted Apelles and
other heretics of his time, namely, _whatsoever was not corporeal,
was nothing but phantasm, and not corporeal_, for heretical? No,
certainly, no divines say that. They went to establish the doctrine
of _one individual God in Trinity_; to abolish the diversity of
species in God, not the distinction of _here_ and _there_ in
substance. When St. Paul asked the Corinthians, _Is Christ divided_,
he did not think they thought him impossible to be considered as
having hands and feet, but that they might think him, according to
the manner of the Gentiles, one of the sons of God, as Arius did;
but not the only-begotten Son of God. And thus also it is expounded
in the Creed of Athanasius, who was present in that council, by
these words, _not confounding the persons, nor dividing the
substances_; that is to say, that God is not divided into three
persons, as man is divided into Peter, James, and John; nor are the
three persons one and the same person. But Aristotle, and from him
all the Greek Fathers, and other learned men, when they distinguish
the general latitude of a word, they call it division; as when they
divide _animal_ into man and beast, they call these εἴδη, _species_;
and when they again divide the _species_ man into Peter and John,
they call these μίρη, _partes individuæ_. And by this confounding
the division of the substance with the distinction of words, divers
men have been led into the error of attributing to God a name, which
is not the name of any substance at all, _viz._ _incorporeal_.
By these words, _God has no parts_, thus explained, together with
the part of the _creed_ which was at that time agreed on, many of
those heresies which were antecedent to that first general Council,
were condemned; as that of Manes, who appeared about thirty years
before the reign of Constantine, by the first article, _I believe in
one God_; though in other words it seems to me to remain still in
the doctrine of the church of Rome, which so ascribeth a liberty of
the will to men, as that their will and purpose to commit sin,
should not proceed from the cause of all things, God; but originally
from themselves or from the Devil. It may seem perhaps to some, that
by the same words the Anthropomorphites also were then condemned:
and certainly, if by parts were meant not persons individual, but
pieces, they were condemned: for face, arms, feet, and the like, are
pieces. But this cannot be, for the Anthropomorphites appeared not
till the time of Valens the Emperor, which was after the Council of
Nice between forty and fifty years; and were not condemned till the
second general Council at Constantinople.
Now for the punishment of heretics ordained by Constantine, we read
of none; but that ecclesiastical officers, bishops and other
preachers, if they refused to subscribe to this faith, or taught the
contrary doctrine, were for the first fault deprived of their
offices, and for the second banished. And thus did heresy, which at
first was the name of private opinion, and no crime, by virtue of a
law of the Emperor, made only for the peace of the church, become a
crime in a pastor, and punishable with deprivation first, and next
with banishment.
After this part of the creed was thus established, there arose
presently many new heresies, partly about the interpretation of it,
and partly about the Holy Ghost, of which the Nicene Council had not
determined. Concerning the part established, there arose disputes
about the nature of Christ, and the word _hypostasis_, _id est_,
substance; for of persons there was yet no mention made, the creed
being written in Greek, in which language there is no word that
answereth to the Latin word _persona_. And the union, as the Fathers
called it, of the human and Divine nature in Christ, _hypostatical_,
caused Eutyches, and after him Dioscorus, to affirm, there was but
one nature in Christ; thinking that whensoever two things are
united, they are one: and this was condemned as Arianism in the
Councils of Constantinople and Ephesus. Others, because they thought
two living and rational substances, such as are God and man, must
needs be also two _hypostases_, maintained that Christ had two
_hypostases_: but these were two heresies condemned together. Then
concerning the Holy Ghost, Nestorius Bishop of Constantinople, and
some others, denied the divinity thereof. And whereas about seventy
years before the Nicene Council, there had been holden a provincial
Council at Carthage, wherein it was decreed, that those Christians
which in the persecutions had denied the faith of Christ, should not
be received again into the church unless they were again baptized:
this also was condemned, though the President in that Council was
that most sincere and pious Christian, Cyprian. And at last the
creed was made up entire as we have it, in the Chalcedonian Council,
by addition of these words: AND I BELIEVE IN THE HOLY GHOST, THE
LORD AND GIVER OF LIFE, WHO PROCEEDETH FROM THE FATHER AND THE SON.
WHO WITH THE FATHER AND THE SON TOGETHER IS WORSHIPPED AND
GLORIFIED. WHO SPAKE BY THE PROPHETS. AND I BELIEVE ONE CATHOLIC AND
APOSTOLIC CHURCH. I ACKNOWLEDGE ONE BAPTISM FOR THE REMISSION OF
SINS. AND I LOOK FOR THE RESURRECTION OF THE DEAD, AND THE LIFE OF
THE WORLD TO COME. In this addition are condemned, first the
Nestorians and others, in these words: WHO WITH THE FATHER AND THE
SON TOGETHER IS WORSHIPPED AND GLORIFIED: and secondly, the doctrine
of the Council of Carthage, in these words: I BELIEVE ONE BAPTISM
FOR THE REMISSION OF SINS. For one baptism is not there put as
opposite to several sorts or manners of baptism, but to the
iteration of it. St. Cyprian was a better Christian than to allow
any baptism that was not in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy
Ghost. In the general confession of faith contained in the creed
called the Nicene Creed, there is no mention of _hypostasis_, nor of
hypostatical union, nor of corporeal, nor of incorporeal, nor of
parts; the understanding of which words being not required of the
vulgar, but only of the pastors, whose disagreement else might
trouble the church; nor were such points necessary to salvation, but
set abroach for ostentation of learning, or else to dazzle men, with
design to lead them towards some ends of their own. The changes of
prevalence in the empire between the Catholics and the Arians, and
how the great Athanasius, the most fierce of the Catholics, was
banished by Constantine, and afterwards restored, and again
banished, I let pass; only it is to be remembered, that Athanasius
is supposed to have made his creed then, when (banished) he was in
Rome, Liberius being pope; by whom, as is most likely, the word
_hypostasis_, as it was in Athanasius’s Creed, was disliked. For the
Roman church could never be brought to receive it, but instead
thereof used their own word _persona_. But the first and last words
of that creed the church of Rome refused not: for they make every
article, not only those of the body of the creed, but all the
definitions of the Nicene Fathers to be such, as a man cannot be
saved, unless he believe them all stedfastly; though made only for
peace sake, and to unite the minds of the clergy, whose disputes
were like to trouble the peace of the empire. After these four first
general Councils, the power of the Roman church grew up apace; and,
either by the negligence or weakness of the succeeding Emperors, the
Pope did what he pleased in religion. _There was no doctrine which
tended to the power ecclesiastical, or to the reverence of the
clergy, the contradiction whereof was not by one Council or another
made heresy, and punished arbitrarily by the Emperors with
banishment or death._ And at last kings themselves, and
commonwealths, unless they purged their dominions of heretics, were
excommunicated, interdicted, and their subjects let loose upon them
by the Pope; insomuch as to an ingenuous and serious Christian,
there was nothing so dangerous as to enquire concerning his own
salvation, of the Holy Scripture; the careless cold Christian was
safe, and the skilful hypocrite a saint. But this is a story so well
known, as I need not insist upon it any longer, but proceed to the
heretics here in England, and what punishments were ordained for
them by acts of parliament. All this while the penal laws against
heretics were such, as the several princes and states, in their own
dominions, thought fit to enact. The edicts of the emperors made
their punishments capital, but for the manner of the execution, left
it to the prefects of provinces: and when other kings and states
intended, according to the laws of the Roman church, to extirpate
heretics, they ordained such punishment as they pleased. The first
law that was here made for the punishment of heretics, called
Lollards and mentioned in the Statutes, was in the fifth year of the
reign of Richard the Second, occasioned by the doctrine of John
Wickliff and his followers; which Wickliff, because no law was yet
ordained for his punishment in parliament, by the favour of John of
Gaunt, the King’s son, during the reign of Edward the Third, had
escaped. But in the fifth year of the next king, which was Richard
the Second, there passed an act of parliament to this effect: that
sheriffs and some others should have commissions to apprehend such
as were certified by the prelates to be preachers of heresy, their
fautors, maintainers, and abettors, and to hold them in strong
prison, till they should justify themselves, according to the law of
holy church. So that hitherto there was no law in England, by which
a heretic could be put to death, or otherways punished, than by
imprisoning him till he was reconciled to the church. After this, in
the next king’s reign, which was Henry the Fourth, son of John of
Gaunt, by whom Wickliff had been favoured, _and who in his aspiring
to the crown had needed the good will of the bishops_, was made a
law, in the second year of his reign, wherein it was enacted, that
every ordinary may convene before him, and imprison any person
suspected of heresy; and that an obstinate heretic shall be burnt
before the people.
In the next king’s reign, which was Henry the Fifth, in his second
year, was made an act of parliament, wherein it is declared, that
the intent of heretics, called Lollards, was to subvert the
Christian faith, the law of God, the church, and the realm: and that
an heretic convict should forfeit all his fee-simple lands, goods,
and chattels, besides the punishment of burning. Again, in the
five-and-twentieth year of King Henry the Eighth, it was enacted,
that an heretic convict shall abjure his heresies, and refusing so
to do, or relapsing, shall be burnt in open place, for example of
others. This act was made after the putting down of the Pope’s
authority: and by this it appears, that King Henry the Eighth
intended no farther alteration in religion, than the recovering of
his own right ecclesiastical. But in the first year of his son, King
Edward the Sixth, was made an act, by which were repealed not only
this act, but also all former acts concerning doctrines, or matters
of religion; so that at this time there was no law at all for the
punishment of heretics.
Again, in the Parliament of the first and second year of Queen Mary,
this act of 1 Edward VI was not repealed, but made useless, by
reviving the statute of 25 Henry VIII, and freely putting it in
execution; insomuch as it was debated, whether or no they should
proceed upon that statute against the Lady Elizabeth, the Queen’s
sister.
The Lady Elizabeth, not long after, by the death of Queen Mary,
coming to the crown, in the fifth year of her reign, by act of
Parliament repealed in the first place all the laws ecclesiastical
of Queen Mary, with all other former laws concerning the punishments
of heretics: nor did she enact any other punishments in their place.
In the second place it was enacted, that the Queen by her letters
patents should give a commission to the bishops, with certain other
persons, in her Majesty’s name, to execute the power ecclesiastical;
in which commission, the commissioners were forbidden to adjudge
anything to be heresy, which was not declared to be heresy by some
of the first four general Councils: but there was no mention made of
general Councils, but only in that branch of the act which
authorised that commission, commonly called _the High Commission_;
nor was there in that commission anything concerning how heretics
were to be punished; but it was granted to them, that they might
declare or not declare, as they pleased, to be heresy or not heresy,
any of those doctrines which had been condemned for heresy in the
first four general Councils. So that during the time that the said
High Commission was in being, there was no statute by which a
heretic could be punished otherways, than by the ordinary censures
of the church; nor doctrine accounted heresy, unless the
commissioners had actually declared and published, that all that
which was made heresy by those four Councils, should be heresy also
now: but I never heard that any such declaration was made either by
proclamation, or by recording it in churches, or by public printing,
as in penal laws is necessary; the breaches of it are excused by
ignorance. Besides, if heresy had been made capital, or otherwise
civilly punishable, either the four general Councils themselves, or
at least the points condemned in them, ought to have been printed or
put into parish churches in English, because without it, no man
could know how to beware of offending against them.
Some men may perhaps ask, whether nobody were condemned and burnt
for heresy, during the time of the High Commission.
I have heard there were: but they which approve such executions, may
peradventure know better grounds for them than I do; but those
grounds are very well worthy to be enquired after.
Lastly, in the seventeenth year of the reign of King Charles the
First, shortly after that the Scots had rebelliously put down the
episcopal government in Scotland, the Presbyterians in England
endeavoured the same here. The king, though he saw the rebels ready
to take the field, would not condescend to that; but yet in hope to
appease them, was content to pass an act of parliament for the
abolishing the High Commission. But though the High Commission was
taken away, yet the parliament having other ends besides the setting
up of the Presbyterate, pursued the rebellion, and put down both
episcopacy and monarchy, erecting a power by them called _The
Commonwealth_, by others _The Rump_, which men obeyed not out of
duty, but for fear; nor were there any human laws left in force to
restrain any man from preaching or writing any doctrine concerning
religion that he pleased. And in this heat of the war, it was
impossible to disturb the peace of the state, which then was none.
And in this time it was, that a book called _Leviathan_ was written
in defence of the King’s power, temporal and spiritual, without any
word against episcopacy, or against any bishop, or against the
public doctrine of the church. It pleased God, about twelve years
after the usurpation of this _Rump_, to restore his most gracious
Majesty that now is, to his father’s throne, and presently, his
Majesty restored the bishops, and pardoned the Presbyterians. But
then both the one and the other accused in Parliament this book of
heresy, when neither the bishops before the war had declared what
was heresy; when if they had, it had been made void by the putting
down of the High Commission at the importunity of the Presbyterians.
So fierce are men, for the most part, in dispute, where either their
learning or power is debated, that they never think of the laws, but
as soon as they are offended, they cry out, _crucifige_; forgetting
what St. Paul (2 Tim. ii. 24, 25) saith, even in case of obstinate
holding of an error: _the servant of the Lord must not strive, but
be gentle unto all men, apt to teach, patient, in meekness
instructing those that oppose themselves; if God peradventure will
give them repentance, to the acknowledging of the truth_: of which
counsel, such fierceness as hath appeared in the disputation of
divines, down from before the Council of Nice to this present time,
is a violation.
FINIS.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CONSIDERATIONS
UPON THE
REPUTATION, LOYALTY, MANNERS,
AND RELIGION,
OF
THOMAS HOBBES,
OF MALMESBURY,
WRITTEN BY HIMSELF,
BY WAY OF
LETTER TO A LEARNED PERSON
(JOHN WALLIS, D.D.)
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE
BOOKSELLER'S ADVERTISEMENT.
TO THE READERS.
-------
I do here present you with a piece of Mr. Hobbes’s writing; which is
not published from an imperfect MS. as his _Dialogue of the Civil
Wars of England_ was, by some that had got accidentally a copy of
it, absolutely against his consent, as you may see by some passages
out of some of his letters to me, which I have here inserted.
In his letter of June, 1679, he saith:
“I would fain have published my _Dialogue of the Civil Wars of
England_, long ago; and to that end I presented it to his Majesty:
and some days after, when I thought he had read it, I humbly
besought him to let me print it; but his Majesty, though he heard me
graciously, yet he flatly refused to have it published. Therefore I
brought away the book, and gave you leave to take a copy of it;
which when you had done, I gave the original to an honourable and
learned friend, who about a year after died. The King knows better,
and is more concerned in publishing of books than I am: therefore I
dare not venture to appear in the business, lest it should offend
him. Therefore I pray you not to meddle in the business. Rather than
to be thought any way to further or countenance the printing, I
would be content to lose twenty times the value of what you can
expect to get, &c. I pray do not take it ill; it may be I may live
to send you somewhat else as vendible as that: and without offence,
I rest Your very humble servant,
THOMAS HOBBES.”
_Chatsworth, June 19, 1679._
(Part of his letter in July, 1679.)
“If I leave any MSS. worth printing, I will leave word you shall
have them, if you please. I am
Your humble servant,
THOMAS HOBBES.”
_Chatsworth, July 21, 1679._
(Part of his letter, August, 1679.)
“Sir,—I thank you for taking my advice in not stirring about the
printing of my book concerning the civil wars of England, &c. I am
writing somewhat for you to print in English, &c. I am, Sir,
Your humble servant,
THOMAS HOBBES.”
_Chatsworth, Aug. 18, 1679._
That no spurious brats, for the time to come, be fathered upon the
deceased author, I have printed, _verbatim_, these passages out of
his letters written to me at several times; their original I have by
me. I will be so just to his memory, that I will not print anything
but what is perfect, and fitted for the press. And if any book shall
be printed with his name to it, that hath not before been printed,
you may be confident it is not his, unless printed for
WILLIAM CROOKE.
CONSIDERATIONS
UPON THE REPUTATION, &c.
OF
THOMAS HOBBES.
-------
SIR,
I am one of them that admire your writings; and having read over
your _Hobbius Heauton-timorumenos_, I cannot hold from giving you
some account of the causes why I admire it. And first I considered
how you handle him for his disloyalty, in these words (page 5): _His
great_ Leviathan, _wherein he placed his main strength, is now
somewhat out of season; which, upon deserting his royal master in
distress, (for he pretends to have been the King’s tutor, though
yet, from those who have most reason to know it, I can find but
little ground for such a pretence), was written in defence of
Oliver’s title, or whoever, by whatsoever means, can get to be
upmost; placing the whole right of government merely in strength,
and absolving all his Majesty’s subjects from their allegiance,
whenever he is not in a present capacity to force obedience_.
That which I observe and admire here, first, is, that you left not
this passage out, for two reasons; one, because Mr. Hobbes could
long for nothing more than such an occasion to tell the world his
own and your little stories, during the time of the late rebellion.
When the Parliament sat, that began in April 1640, and was dissolved
in May following, and in which many points of the regal power, which
were necessary for the peace of the kingdom, and the safety of his
Majesty’s person, were disputed and denied, Mr. Hobbes wrote a
little treatise in English, wherein he did set forth and
demonstrate, that the said power and rights were inseparably annexed
to the sovereignty; which sovereignty they did not then deny to be
in the King; but it seems understood not, or would not understand
that inseparability. Of this treatise, though not printed, many
gentlemen had copies, which occasioned much talk of the author; and
had not his Majesty dissolved the Parliament, it had brought him
into danger of his life.
He was the first that had ventured to write in the King’s defence;
and one, amongst very few, that upon no other ground but knowledge
of his duty and principles of equity, without special interest, was
in all points perfectly loyal.
The third of November following, there began a new Parliament,
consisting for the greatest part of such men as the people had
elected only for their averseness to the King’s interest. These
proceeded so fiercely in the very beginning, against those that had
written or preached in the defence of any part of that power, which
they also intended to take away, and in gracing those whom the King
had disgraced for sedition, that Mr. Hobbes, doubting how they would
use him, went over into France, the first of all that fled, and
there continued eleven years, to his damage some thousands of pounds
deep. This, Doctor, was your time of harvest: you were in their
favour, and that, as you have made it since appear, for no goodness.
Being at Paris, he wrote and published his book _De Cive_, in Latin,
to the end that all nations which should hear what you and your
Con-Covenanters were doing in England, might detest you, which I
believe they do; for I know no book more magnified than this is
beyond the seas.
When his Majesty, that now is, came to Paris, Mr. Hobbes had the
honour to initiate him in the mathematics; but never was so impudent
or ignorant as to call, or to think himself the King’s tutor, as
you, that understand not what that word, out of the University,
signifies, do falsely charge him with; or ever to say, that he was
one of his Majesty’s domestic servants. While upon this occasion he
staid about Paris, and had neither encouragement nor desire to
return into England, he wrote and published his _Leviathan_, far
from the intention either of disadvantage to his Majesty, or to
flatter Oliver, who was not made Protector till three or four years
after, on purpose to make way for his return. For there is scarce a
page in it that does not upbraid both him, and you, and others such
as you, with your abominable hypocrisy and villainy.
Nor did he desert his Majesty, as you falsely accuse him, as his
Majesty himself knows. Nor was his Majesty, as you unmannerly term
it, _in distress_. He had the title, right, and reverence of a King,
and maintained his faithful servants with him. It is true that Mr.
Hobbes came home, but it was because he would not trust his safety
with the French clergy.
Do you know that ever he sought any benefit either from Oliver, or
from any of his party, or was any way familiar with any of his
ministers, before or after his return; or curried favour with any of
them, as you did by dedicating a book to his vice-chancellor, Owen?
Did you ever hear that he took anything done to him by his Majesty
in evil part, or spake of him otherwise than the best of his
servants would do; or that he was sullen, silent, or sparing, in
praising his Majesty in any company, upon any occasion?
He knew who were his enemies, and upon what ground they misconstrued
his writings.
But your indiscretion appears more manifestly in giving him occasion
to repeat what you have done, and to _consider_ you, as you
professedly have considered him. For with what equity can it be
denied him to repeat your manifest and horrible crimes, for all you
have been pardoned; when you publish falsely pretended faults of
his, and comprehended in the same pardon?
If he should say and publish, that you deciphered the letters of the
King and his party, and thereby delivered his Majesty’s secrets to
the enemy, and his best friends to the scaffold, and boasted of it
in your book of arithmetic, written in Latin, to all the world, as
of a monument of your wit, worthy to be preserved in the University
Library: how will you justify yourself, if you be reproached for
having been a rebel and a traitor? It may be you, or some for you,
will now say, you deciphered those letters to the King’s advantage:
but then you were unfaithful to your masters of the Parliament: a
very honest pretence, and full of gallantry, to excuse _treason_
with _treachery_, and to be a double spy. Besides, who will believe
it? Who enabled you to do the King that favour? Why herded you with
his enemies? Who brought the King into a need of such a fellow’s
favour, but they that first deserted him, and then made war upon
him, and which were your friends and Mr. Hobbes his enemies? Nay
more, I know not one enemy Mr. Hobbes then had, but such as were
first the King’s enemies, and, because the King’s, therefore his.
Your being of that party, without your deciphering, amounts to no
more than a desertion. Of the bishops that then were, and for whose
sakes, in part, you raised the war, there was not one that followed
the King out of the land, though they loved him, but lived quietly
under the protection, first of the Parliament, and then of Oliver,
(whose titles and actions were equally unjust) without treachery. Is
not this as bad as if they had gone over, and (which was Mr. Hobbes
his case) been driven back again? I hope you will not call them all
deserters, or, because by their stay here openly they accepted of
the Parliament’s and of Oliver’s protection, defenders either of
Oliver’s or of the Parliament’s title to the sovereign power.
How many were there in that Parliament at first that did indeed and
voluntarily desert the King, in consenting to many of their unjust
actions? Many of these afterwards, either upon better judgment, or
because they pleased not the faction, (for it was a hard matter for
such as were not of Pym’s cabal to please the Parliament), or for
some other private ends deserted the Parliament, and did some of
them more hurt to the King than if they had stayed where they were;
for they had been so affrighted by such as you, with a panic fear of
tyranny, that seeking to help him by way of composition and sharing,
they abated the just and necessary indignation of his armies, by
which only his right was to be recovered.
That very entering into the Covenant with the Scottish nation
against the King, is by itself a very great crime, and you guilty of
it. And so was the imposing of the Engagement, and you guilty of
that also, as being done by the then Parliament, whose democratical
principles you approved of.
You were also assisting to the Assembly of Divines that made the
_Directory_, and which were afterwards put down by Oliver for
counterfeiting themselves ambassadors. And this was when the King
was living, and at the head of an army, which with your own
endeavour might have protected you. What crime it is, the King being
head of the Church of England, to make _Directories_, to alter the
_Church-government_, and to set up new forms of God’s service, upon
your own fancies, without the King’s authority, the lawyers could
have told you; and what punishment you were to expect from it, you
might have seen in the statute printed before the _Book of Common
Prayer_.
Further he may say, and truly, that you were guilty of all the
treasons, murders, and spoil committed by Oliver, or by any upon
Oliver’s or the Parliament’s authority: for, during the late
trouble, who made both Oliver and the people mad, but the preachers
of your principles? But besides the wickedness, see the folly of it.
You thought to make them mad, but just to such a degree as should
serve your own turn; that is to say, mad, and yet just as wise as
yourselves. Were you not very imprudent to think to govern madness?
Paul they knew, but who were you? You were they, that put the army
into Oliver’s hands, who before, as mad as he was, was too weak, and
too obscure to do any great mischief; with which army he executed
upon such as you, both here and in Scotland, that which the justice
of God required.
Therefore of all the crimes, the great one not excepted, done in
that rebellion, you were guilty; you, I say, Doctor, how little
force or wit soever you contributed, for your good-will to their
cause. The King was hunted as a partridge in the mountains; and
though the hounds have been hanged, yet the hunters were as guilty
as they, and deserved no less punishment. And the decipherers, and
all that blew the horn, are to be reckoned amongst the hunters.
Perhaps you would not have had the prey killed, but rather have kept
it tame. And yet who can tell? I have read of few kings deprived of
their power by their own subjects, that have lived any long time
after it, for reasons that every man is able to conjecture.
All this is so manifest, as it needs no witnesses. In the meantime
Mr. Hobbes his behaviour was such, that of them who appeared in that
scene, he was the only man I know, except a few that had the same
principles with him, that has not something more or less to blush
for; as having either assisted that rebellious Parliament, without
necessity (when they might have had protection from the King, if
they had resorted to him for it in the field), by covenanting, or by
action, or with money or plate, or by voting against his Majesty’s
interest, in himself or his friends; though some of them have since
by extraordinary service deserved to be received into favour; but
what is that to you? You are none of them; and yet you dare to
reproach the guiltless, as if after so ill fruits of your sermons,
it were not impudence enough to preach.
I admire further, that having been forgiven these so transcendant
crimes, so great a debt to the gallows, you take Mr. Hobbes by the
throat for a word in his _Leviathan_, made a fault by malicious or
over-hasty construction: for you have thereby, like the unmerciful
debtor in the Gospel, in my opinion, forfeited your pardon, and so,
without a new one, may be hanged yet.
To that other charge, _that he writ his Leviathan in defence of
Oliver’s title_, he will say, that you in your own conscience know
it is false. What was Oliver, when that book came forth? It was in
1650, and Mr. Hobbes returned before 1651. Oliver was then but
General under your masters of the Parliament, nor had yet cheated
them of their usurped power. For that was not done till two or three
years after, in 1653, which neither he nor you could foresee. What
title then of Oliver’s could he pretend to justify? But you will
say, he placed the right of government there, wheresoever should be
the strength; and so by consequence he placed it in Oliver. Is that
all? Then primarily his _Leviathan_ was intended for your masters of
the Parliament, because the strength was then in them. Why did they
not thank him for it, both they and Oliver in their turns? There,
Doctor, you deciphered ill. For it was written in the behalf of
those many and faithful servants and subjects of his Majesty, that
had taken his part in the war, or otherwise done their utmost
endeavour to defend his Majesty’s right and person against the
rebels: whereby, having no other means of protection, nor, for the
most part, of subsistence, they were forced to compound with your
masters, and to promise obedience for the saving of their lives and
fortunes; which in his book he hath affirmed they might lawfully do,
and consequently not lawfully bear arms against the victors. They
that had done their utmost endeavour to perform their obligation to
the King, had done all that they could be obliged unto; and were
consequently at liberty to seek the safety of their lives and
livelihood wheresoever, and without treachery. But there is nothing
in that book to justify the submission of you, or such as you, to
the Parliament, after the King’s being driven from them, or to
Oliver; for you were the King’s enemies, and cannot pretend want of
that protection which you yourselves refused, denied, fought
against, and destroyed. If a man owe you money, and you by robbing
him, or other injury, disable him to pay you, the fault is your own;
nor needs this exception, _unless the creditor rob him_, be put into
the condition of the bond. Protection and obedience are relative. He
that says a man may submit to an enemy for want of protection, can
never be construed, but that he meant it of the obedient. But let us
consider his words, when he puts for a law of nature, (vol. iii. p.
703) _that every man is bound, as much as in him lieth, to protect
in war the authority by which he is himself protected in time of
peace_; which I think is no ungodly or unreasonable principle. For
confirmation of it, he defines in what point of time it is, that a
subject becomes obliged to obey an unjust conqueror; and defines it
thus: _it is that point wherein having liberty to submit to the
conqueror, he consenteth either by express words, or by other
sufficient signs, to be his subject_.
I cannot see, Doctor, how a man can be at liberty to submit to his
new, that has not first done all he could for his old master: nor if
he have done all he could, why that liberty should be refused him.
If a man be taken by the Turk, and brought by terror to fight
against his former master, I see how he may be killed for it as an
enemy, but not as a criminal; nor can I see how he that hath liberty
to submit, can at the same time be bound not to submit.
But you will say, perhaps, that he defines the time of that liberty
to the advantage of Oliver, in that he says, _that for an ordinary
subject, it is then, when the means of his life are within the
guards and garrisons of the enemy; for it is then, that he hath no
protection but from the enemy for his contribution_. It was not
necessary for him to explain it to men of so great understanding, as
you and other his enemies pretend to be, by putting in the
exception, _unless they came into those guards and garrisons by
their own treason_. Do you think that Oliver’s party, for their
submission to Oliver, could pretend the want of that protection?
The words therefore by themselves, without that exception, do
signify no more than this; _that whosoever had done as much as in
him did lie, to protect the King in war, had liberty afterwards to
provide themselves of such protection as they could get_; which to
those whose means of life were within the guards and garrisons of
Oliver, was Oliver’s protection.
Do you think, when a battle is lost, and you at the mercy of an
enemy, it is unlawful to receive quarter with condition of
obedience? Or if you receive it on that condition, do you think it
honesty to break promise, and treacherously murder him that gave you
your life? If that were good doctrine, he were a foolish enemy that
would give quarter to any man.
You see, then, that this submission to Oliver, or to your then
masters, is allowed by Mr. Hobbes his doctrine only to the King’s
faithful party, and not to any that fought against him, howsoever
they coloured it, by saying they fought for the King and Parliament;
nor to any that writ or preached against his cause, or encouraged
his adversaries; nor to any that betrayed his counsels, or that
intercepted or deciphered any letters of his, or of his officers, or
of any of his party; nor to any that by any way had contributed to
the diminution of his Majesty’s power, ecclesiastical or civil; nor
does it absolve any of them from their allegiance. You that make it
so heinous a crime for a man to save himself from violent death, by
a forced submission to a usurper, should have considered what crime
it was to submit voluntarily to the usurping Parliament.
I can tell you besides, why those words were put into his last
chapter, which he calls the review. It happened at that time that
there were many honourable persons, that having been faithful and
unblemished servants to the King, and soldiers in his army, had
their estates then sequestered; of whom some were fled, but the
fortunes of them all were at the mercy, not of Oliver, but of the
Parliament. Some of these were admitted to composition, some not.
They that compounded, though they helped the Parliament less by
their composition, than they should have done, if they had stood
out, by their confiscation, yet they were ill-spoken of, especially
by those that had no estates to lose, nor hope to compound. And it
was for this that he added to what he had written before, this
caution, that if they would compound, they were to do it _bona
fide_, without intention of treachery. Wherein he justified their
submission by their former obedience, and present necessity; but
condemned treachery. Whereas you that pretend to abhor atheism,
condemn that which was done upon necessity, and justify the
treachery: and you had reason for it, that cannot otherwise justify
yourselves. Those strugglings which happened afterwards, lost his
Majesty many a good and able subject, and strengthened Oliver with
the confiscation of their estates; which if they had attended the
discord of their enemies, might have been saved.
Perhaps you will take for a sign of Mr. Hobbes his ill meaning, that
his Majesty was displeased with him. And truly I believe he was
displeased for a while, but not very long. They that complained of,
and misconstrued his writings, were his Majesty’s good subjects, and
reputed wise and learned men, and thereby obtained to have their
misconstruction believed for some little time: but the very next
summer after his coming away, two honourable persons of the Court,
that came over into England, assured him, that his Majesty had a
good opinion of him; and others since have told me, that his Majesty
said openly, that he thought Mr. Hobbes never meant him hurt.
Besides, his Majesty hath used him more graciously than is ordinary
to so humble a person as he is, and so great a delinquent as you
would make him; and testified his esteem of him in his bounty. What
argument now can you draw from hence more than this, that his
Majesty understood his writings better than his accusers did?
I admire in the next place, upon what ground you accuse him, and
with him all those that have approved his _Leviathan_, with atheism.
I thought once, that that slander had had some, though not firm,
ground, in that you call his a new divinity: but for that point he
will allege these words of his Leviathan (p. 438): _By which it
seemeth to me (with submission nevertheless, both in this and all
other questions whereof the determination dependeth on the
Scriptures, to the interpretation of the Bible authorized by the
commonwealth, whose subject I am), that, &c._ What is there in these
words, but modesty and obedience? But you were at this time in
actual rebellion. Mr. Hobbes, that holds religion to be a law, did
in order thereto condemn the maintenance of any of his opinions
against the law; and you that reproach him for them, upon your own
account should also have shown by your own learning, wherein the
Scripture, which was his sole proof, was miscited or misconstrued by
him; (for he submitted to the laws, that is to say, to the King’s
doctrine, not to yours); and not have insulted for the victory won
by the power of the law, to which you were then an enemy.
Another argument of atheism you take from his denying _immaterial_
or _incorporeal substances_. Let any man impartially now compare his
religion with yours, by this very measure, and judge which of the
two savours most of atheism.
It is by all Christians confessed, that God is _incomprehensible_;
that is to say, that there is nothing can arise in our fancy from
the naming of him, to resemble him either in _shape_, _colour_,
_stature_, or _nature_; there is no idea of him; he is like nothing
that we can think on. What then ought we to say of him? What
attributes are to be given him (not speaking otherwise than we
think, nor otherwise than is fit,) by those who mean to honour him?
None but such as Mr. Hobbes hath set down, namely, expressions of
reverence, such as are in use amongst men for signs of honour, and
consequently signify _goodness_, _greatness_, and _happiness_; and
either absolutely put, as _good_, _holy_, _mighty_, _blessed_,
_just_, _wise_, _merciful_, &c., or superlative, as _most good_,
_most great_, _most mighty_, _almighty_, _most holy_, &c., or
negative of whatsoever is not perfect, as _infinite_, _eternal_, and
the like: and not such as neither reason nor Scripture hath approved
for honourable. This is the doctrine that Mr. Hobbes hath written,
both in his _Leviathan_, and in his book _De Cive_, and when
occasion serves, maintains. What kind of attribute, I pray you, is,
_immaterial_, or _incorporeal substance_? Where do you find it in
the Scripture? Whence came it hither, but from Plato and Aristotle,
heathens, who mistook those thin inhabitants of the brain they see
in sleep, for so many _incorporeal_ men; and yet allowed them
motion, which is proper only to things _corporeal_? Do you think it
an honour to God to be one of these? And would you learn
Christianity from Plato and Aristotle? But seeing there is no such
word in the Scripture, how will you warrant it from natural reason?
Neither Plato nor Aristotle did ever write of, or mention, an
_incorporeal spirit_. For they could not conceive how a spirit,
which in their language was πνεῦμα, in ours _a wind_, could be
_incorporeal_. Do you understand the connexion of _substance_ and
_incorporeal_? If you do, explain it in English; for the words are
Latin. It is something, you will say, that being _without body,
stands under_——. Stands under what? Will you say, _under accidents_?
Almost all the Fathers of the Church will be against you; and then
you are an atheist. Is not Mr. Hobbes his way of attributing to God,
that only which the Scriptures attribute to him, or what is never
any where taken but for honour, much better than this bold
undertaking of yours, to consider and decipher God’s _nature_ to us?
For a third argument of atheism, you put, that he says: _besides the
creation of the world, there is no argument to prove a Deity_: and,
_that it cannot be evinced by any argument that the world had a
beginning_; and, _that whether it had or no, is to be decided not by
argument, but by the magistrate’s authority_. That it may be decided
by the Scriptures, he never denied; therefore in that also you
slander him. And as for arguments from natural reason, neither you,
nor any other, have hitherto brought any, except the creation, that
has not made it more doubtful to many men than it was before. That
which he hath written concerning such arguments, in his book _De
Corpore_: _opinions_, saith he (vol. I. p. 412), _concerning the
nature of infinite and eternal, as the chiefest of the fruits of
wisdom, God hath reserved to himself, and made judges of them those
men whose ministry he meant to use in the ordering of religion; and
therefore I cannot praise those men that brag of demonstration of
the beginning of the world from natural reason_: and again (vol. I.
p. 414), _wherefore I pass by those questions of infinite and
eternal, contenting myself with such doctrine concerning the
beginning and magnitude of the world, as I have learned from the
Scripture, confirmed by miracles, and from the use of my country,
and from the reverence I owe to the law_. This, Doctor, is not ill
said, and yet it is all you ground your slander on, which you make
to sneak vilely under a crooked paraphrase.
These opinions, I said, were to be judged by those to whom God has
committed the ordering of religion; that is, to the supreme
governors of the church, that is, in England, to the King: by his
authority, I say, it ought to be decided, not what men shall think,
but what they shall say in those questions. And methinks you should
not dare to deny it; for it is a manifest relapse into your former
crimes.
But why do you style the King by the name of _magistrate_? Do you
find _magistrate_ to signify any where the person that hath the
sovereign power, or not every where the sovereign’s officers. And I
think you knew that; but you and your fellows (your fellows I call
all those that are so besmeared all over with the filth of the same
crime, as not to be distinguished) meant to make your Assembly the
sovereign, and the King your _magistrate_. I pray God you do not
mean so still, if opportunity be presented.
There has hitherto appeared in Mr. Hobbes his doctrine, no sign of
atheism; and whatsoever can be inferred from the denying of
_incorporeal substances_, makes Tertullian, one of the ancientest of
the Fathers, and most of the doctors of the Greek Church, as much
atheists as he. For Tertullian, in his treatise _De Carne Christi_,
says plainly: _omne quod est, corpus est sui generis. Nihil est
incorporale, nisi quod non est_: that is to say, _whatsoever is
anything, is a body of its kind. Nothing is incorporeal, but that
which has no being._ There are many other places in him to the same
purpose: for that doctrine served his turn to confute the heresy of
them that held that Christ had no body, but was a _ghost_; also of
the soul he speaks, as of an invisible body. And there is an epitome
of the doctrine of the Eastern Church, wherein is this, that they
thought angels and souls were _corporeal_, and only called
_incorporeal_, because their bodies were not like ours. And I have
heard that a Patriarch of Constantinople, in a Council held there,
did argue for the lawfulness of painting angels, from this, that
they were _corporeal_. You see what fellows in atheism you join with
Mr. Hobbes.
How unfeigned your own religion is, may be argued strongly,
demonstratively, from your behaviour, that I have already recited.
Do you think, you that have committed so abominable sins, not
through infirmity, or sudden transport of passion, but
premeditately, wilfully, for twenty years together, that any
rational man can think you believe yourselves, when you preach of
heaven and hell, or that you do not believe one another to be cheats
and impostors, and laugh at silly people in your sleeves for
believing you; or that you applaud not your own wit for it; though
for my part I could never conceive that very much wit was requisite
for the making of a knave? And in the pulpit most of you have been a
scandal to Christianity, by preaching up sedition, and crying down
moral virtue. You should have preached against unjust _ambition_,
_covetousness_, _gluttony_, _malice_, _disobedience to government_,
_fraud_, and _hypocrisy_: but for the most part you preached your
own controversies, about who should be uppermost, or other fruitless
and unedifying doctrines. When did any of you preach against
_hypocrisy_? You dare not in the pulpit, I think, so much as name
it, lest you set the church a laughing: and you in particular, when
you said in a sermon, that σοψίης was not in Homer. What edification
could the people have from that, though it had been true, as it is
false? For it is in his _Iliad_, XV. 412. Another I heard make half
his sermon of this doctrine, that _God never sent a great
deliverance, but in a great danger_: which is indeed true, because
the greatness of the danger makes the greatness of the deliverance,
but for the same cause ridiculous; and the other half he took to
construe the Greek of his text: and yet such sermons are much
applauded. But why? First, because they make not the people ashamed
of any vice. Secondly, because they like the preacher, for using to
find fault with the government or governors. Thirdly, for their
vehemence, which they mistake for zeal. Fourthly, for their zeal to
their own ends, which they mistake for zeal to God’s worship. I have
heard besides divers sermons made by fanatics, young men, and whom,
by that and their habit, I imagined to be apprentices; and found
little difference between their sermons, and the sermons of such as
you, either in respect of wisdom, or eloquence, or vehemence, or
applause of common people.
Therefore, I wonder how you can pretend, as you do in your petition
for a dispensation from the ceremonies of the Church, to be either
better preachers than those that conform, or to have tenderer
consciences than other men. You that have covered such black designs
with the sacred words of Scripture, why can you not as well find in
your hearts to cover a black gown with a white surplice? Or what
idolatry do you find in making the sign of the cross, when the law
commands it? Though I think you may conform without sin, yet I think
you might have been also dispensed with without sin, if you had
dispensed in like manner with other ministers that subscribed to the
articles of the Church. And if tenderness of conscience be a good
plea, you must give Mr. Hobbes also leave to plead tenderness of
conscience to his new Divinity, as well as you. I should wonder
also, how any of you should dare to speak to a multitude met
together, without being limited by his Majesty what they shall say,
especially now that we have felt the smart of it, but that it is a
relic of the ecclesiastical policy of the Popes, that found it
necessary for the disjoining of the people from their too close
adherence to their Kings or other civil governors.
But it may be you will say, that the rest of the clergy, bishops,
and episcopal men, no friends of yours, and against whose office Mr.
Hobbes never writ anything, speak no better of his religion than you
do.
It is true, he never wrote against episcopacy; and it is his private
opinion, that such an episcopacy as is now in England, is the most
commodious that a Christian King can use for the governing of
Christ’s flock; the misgoverning whereof the King is to answer for
to Christ, as the bishops are to answer for their misgovernment to
the King, and to God also. Nor ever spake he ill of any of them, as
to their persons: therefore I should wonder the more at the
uncharitable censure of some of them, but that I see a relic still
remaining of the venom of popish ambition, lurking in that seditious
_distinction_ and _division_ between the power _spiritual_ and
_civil_; which they that are in love with a power to hurt all those
that stand in competition with them for learning, as the Roman
clergy had to hurt Galileo, do not willingly forsake. All bishops
are not in every point like one another. Some, it may be, are
content to hold their authority from the King’s letters patents; and
these have no cause to be angry with Mr. Hobbes. Others will needs
have somewhat more, they know not what, of divine right, to govern
by virtue of _imposition of hands_, and _consecration_, not
acknowledging their power from the King, but immediately from
Christ. And these perhaps are they that are displeased with him,
which he cannot help, nor has deserved; but will for all that
believe the King only, and without sharers, to be the head of all
the Churches within his own dominions; and that he may dispense with
ceremonies, or with anything else that is not against the
Scriptures, nor against natural equity; and that the consent of the
Lords and Commons cannot now give him that power, but declare, for
the people, their advice and consent to it. Nor can he be made
believe that the safety of a state depends upon the safety of the
Church, I mean of the clergy. For neither is a clergy essential to a
commonwealth; and those ministers that preached sedition, pretend to
be of the clergy, as well as the best. He believes rather that the
safety of the Church depends on the safety of the King, and the
entireness of the sovereign power; and that the King is no part of
the flock of any minister or bishop, no more than the shepherd is of
his sheep, but of Christ only; and all the clergy, as well as the
people, the King’s flock. Nor can that clamour of his adversaries
make Mr. Hobbes think himself a worse Christian than the best of
them. And how will you disprove it, either by his disobedience, to
the laws _civil_ or _ecclesiastical_, or by any ugly action? Or how
will you prove that the obedience, which springs from scorn of
injustice, is less acceptable to God, than that which proceeds from
fear of punishment, or hope of benefit. Gravity and heaviness of
countenance are not so good marks of assurance of God’s favour, as
cheerful, charitable, and upright behaviour towards men, which are
better signs of religion than the zealous maintaining of
controverted doctrines. And therefore I am verily persuaded, it was
not his Divinity that displeased you or them, but somewhat else,
which you are not willing to pretend. As for your party, that which
angered you, I believe, was this passage of his _Leviathan_ (vol.
iii. p. 160); _Whereas some men have pretended for their
disobedience to their sovereign, a new covenant made, not with men,
but with God; this also is unjust. For there is no covenant with
God, but by mediation of somebody that represented God’s person;
which none doth but God’s lieutenant, who hath the sovereignty under
God. But this pretence of covenant with God, is so evident a lie_,
(this is it that angered you), _even in the pretenders' own
consciences, that it is not only an act of an unjust, but also of a
vile and unmanly disposition_.
Besides, his making the King judge of doctrines to be preached or
published, hath offended you both; so has also his attributing to
the civil sovereign all power _sacerdotal_. But this perhaps may
seem hard, when the sovereignty is in a Queen. But it is because you
are not subtle enough to perceive, that though _man_ be _male_ and
_female_, _authority_ is not. To please neither party is easy; but
to please both, unless you could better agree amongst yourselves
than you do, is impossible. Your differences have troubled the
kingdom, as if you were the houses revived of York and Lancaster. A
man would wonder how a little Latin and Greek should work so
mightily, when the Scriptures are in English, as that the King and
Parliament can hardly keep you quiet, especially in time of danger
from abroad. If you will needs quarrel, decide it amongst
yourselves, and draw not the people into your parties.
You were angry also for his blaming the scholastical philosophers,
and denying such fine things as these: _that the species or
apparences of bodies come from the thing we look on, into the eye,
and so make us see; and into the understanding, to make us
understand; and into the memory, to make us remember: that a body
may be just the same it was, and yet bigger or lesser: that eternity
is a permanent now_; and the like: and for detecting, further than
you thought fit, the fraud of the Roman clergy. Your dislike of his
divinity, was the least cause of your calling him atheist. But no
more of this now.
The next head of your contumelies is to make him contemptible, and
to move Mr. Boyle to pity him. This is a way of railing too much
beaten to be thought witty. As for the thing itself, I doubt your
intelligence is not good, and that you algebricians, and
non-conformists, do but feign it, to comfort one another. For your
own part, you contemn him not, or else you did very foolishly to
entitle the beginning of your book, _Mr. Hobbes considered_; which
argues he is considerable enough to you. Besides, it is no argument
of contempt, to spend upon him so many angry lines as would have
furnished you with a dozen of sermons. If you had in good earnest
despised him, you would have let him alone, as he does Dr. Ward, Mr.
Baxter, Pike, and others, that have reviled him as you do. As for
his reputation beyond the seas, it fades not yet: and because
perhaps you have no means to know it, I will cite you a passage of
an Epistle, written by a learned Frenchman to an eminent person in
France, a passage not impertinent to the point now in question. It
is in a volume of Epistles, the fourth in order, and the words (page
167) concerning chemists, are these: _Truly, Sir, as much as I
admire them, when I see them lute an alembic handsomely, filter a
liquor, build an athanor, so much I dislike them when I hear them
discourse upon the subject of their operations; and yet they think
all they do, is nothing in respect of what they say. I wish they
would take less pains, and be at less charges; and whilst they wash
their hands after their work, they would leave to those that attend
to the polishing of their discourse, I mean, the Galileos, the
Descarteses, the Hobbeses, the Bacons, and the Gassendis, to reason
upon their work, and themselves to hear what the learned and
judicious shall tell them, such as are used to discern the
differences of things. Quam scit uterque libens censebo exerceat
artem._ And more to the same purpose.
What is here said of chymists, is applicable to all other mechanics.
Every man that hath spare money, can get furnaces, and buy coals.
Every man that hath spare money, can be at the charge of making
great moulds, and hiring workmen to grind their glasses; and so may
have the best and greatest telescopes. They can get engines made,
and apply them to the stars; recipients made, and try conclusions;
but they are never the more philosophers for all this. It is
laudable, I confess, to bestow money upon curious or useful
delights; but that is none of the praises of a philosopher. And yet,
because the multitude cannot judge, they will pass with the
unskilful, for skilful in all parts of natural philosophy. And I
hear now, that Hugenius and Eustachio Divini are to be tried by
their glasses, who is the more skilful in _optics_ of the two; but
for my part, before Mr. Hobbes his book _De Homine_ came forth, I
never saw any thing written on that subject intelligibly. Do not you
tell me now, according to your wonted ingenuity, that I never saw
Euclid’s, Vitellio’s, and many other men’s _Optics_; as if I could
not distinguish between _geometry_ and _optics_.
So also of all other arts; not every one that brings from beyond
seas a new gin, or other jaunty device, is therefore a philosopher.
For if you reckon that way, not only apothecaries and gardeners, but
many other sorts of workmen, will put in for, and get the prize.
Then, when I see the gentlemen of Gresham College apply themselves
to the doctrine of motion, (as Mr. Hobbes has done, and will be
ready to help them in it, if they please, and so long as they use
him civilly,) I will look to know some causes of natural events from
them, and their register, and not before: for nature does nothing
but by motion.
I hear that the reason given by Mr. Hobbes, why the drop of glass so
much wondered at, shivers into so many pieces, by breaking only one
small part of it, is approved for probable, and registered in their
college. But he has no reason to take it for a favour: because
hereafter the invention may be taken, by that means, not for his,
but theirs.
To the rest of your calumnies the answers will be short, and such as
you might easily have foreseen. And first, for his boasting of his
learning, it is well summed up by you in these words: _It was a
motion made by one, whom I will not name, that some idle person
should read over all his books, and collecting together his arrogant
and supercilious speeches, applauding himself, and despising all
other men, set them forth in one synopsis, with this title_, Hobbius
de se. _What a pretty piece of pageantry this would make, I shall
leave to your own thoughts._
Thus say you: now says Mr. Hobbes, or I for him, let your idle
person do it, and set down no more than he has written, as high
praises as they be, I will promise you he shall acknowledge them
under his hand, and be commended for it, and you scorned. A certain
Roman senator having propounded something in the assembly of the
people, which they misliking made a noise at, boldly bade them hold
their peace, and told them he knew better what was good for the
commonwealth than all they. And his words are transmitted to us as
an argument of his virtue; so much do truth and vanity alter the
complexion of self-praise. Besides, you can have very little skill
in morality, that cannot see the justice of commending a man’s self,
as well as of anything else, in his own defence: and it was want of
prudence in you, to constrain him to a thing that would so much
displease you. That part of his self-praise which most offends you,
is in the end of his _Leviathan_ (page 713), in these words:
_Therefore I think it may be profitably printed, and more profitably
taught in the Universities, in case they also think so, to whom the
judgment of the same belongeth_. Let any man consider the truth of
it. Where did those ministers learn their seditious doctrine, and to
preach it, but there? Where therefore should preachers learn to
teach loyalty, but there? And if your principles produced civil war,
must not the contrary principles, which are his, produce peace? And
consequently his book, as far as it handles civil doctrine, deserves
to be taught there. But when can this be done? When you shall have
no longer an army ready to maintain the evil doctrine wherewith you
have infected the people. By a ready army, I mean arms, and money,
and men enough, though not yet in pay, and put under officers, yet
gathered together in one place or city, to be put under officers,
armed, and paid on any sudden occasion; such as are the people of a
great and populous town. Every great city is as a standing army,
which if it be not under the sovereign’s command, the people are
miserable; if they be, they may be taught their duties in the
Universities safely and easily, and be happy. I never read of any
Christian king that was a tyrant, though the best of kings have been
called so.
Then for the _morosity_ and _peevishness_ you charge him with, all
that know him familiarly, know it is a false accusation. But you
mean, it may be, only towards those that argue against his opinion;
but neither is that true. When vain and ignorant young scholars,
unknown to him before, come to him on purpose to argue with him, and
to extort applause for their foolish opinions; and, missing of their
end, fall into indiscreet and uncivil expressions, and he then
appear not very well contented: it is not his _morosity_, but their
_vanity_ that should be blamed. But what humour, if not morosity and
peevishness, was that of yours, whom he never had injured, or seen,
or heard of, to use toward him such insolent, injurious, and
clownish words, as you did in your absurd _Elenchus_?
Was it not impatience of seeing any dissent from you in opinion? Mr.
Hobbes has been always far from provoking any man, though when he is
provoked, you find his pen as sharp as yours.
Again, when you make his age a reproach to him, and show no cause
that might impair the faculties of his mind, but only age, I admire
how you saw not that you reproached all old men in the world as much
as him, and warranted all young men, at a certain time, which they
themselves shall define, to call you _fool_. Your dislike of old
age, you have also otherwise sufficiently signified, in venturing so
fairly as you have done to escape it. But that is no great matter to
one that hath so many marks upon him of much greater reproaches. By
Mr. Hobbes his calculation, that derives prudence from experience,
and experience from age, you are a very young man; but by your own
reckoning, you are older already than Methuselah.
Lastly, who told you that he writ against Mr. Boyle, whom in his
writing he never mentioned, and that it was, because Mr. Boyle was
acquainted with you? I know the contrary. I have heard him wish it
had been some person of lower condition, that had been the author of
the doctrine which he opposed, and therefore opposed because it was
false, and because his own could not otherwise be defended. But thus
much I think is true, that he thought never the better of his
judgment, for mistaking you for learned. This is all I thought fit
to answer for him and his manners. The rest is of his geometry and
philosophy, concerning which, I say only this, that there is too
much in your book to be confuted; almost every line may be
disproved, or ought to be reprehended. In sum, it is all error and
railing, that is, stinking wind; such as a jade lets fly, when he is
too hard girt upon a full belly. I have done. I have considered you
now, but will not again, whatsoever preferment any of your friends
shall procure you.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE ANSWER
OF
MR. HOBBES
TO
SIR WILLIAM DAVENANT’S
PREFACE BEFORE GONDIBERT.
THE ANSWER
TO THE PREFACE TO GONDIBERT.
SIR,
If to commend your poem, I should only say, in general terms, that
in the choice of your argument, the disposition of the parts, the
maintenance of the characters of your persons, the dignity and
vigour of your expression, you have performed all the parts of
various experience, ready memory, clear judgment, swift and
well-governed fancy: though it were enough for the truth, it were
too little for the weight and credit of my testimony. For I lie open
to two exceptions, one of an incompetent, the other of a corrupted
witness. Incompetent, because I am not a poet; and corrupted with
the honour done me by your preface. The former obliges me to say
something, by the way, of the nature and differences of poesy.
As philosophers have divided the universe, their subject, into three
regions, _celestial_, _aerial_, and _terrestial_; so the poets,
whose work it is, by imitating human life, in delightful and
measured lines, to avert men from vice, and incline them to virtuous
and honourable actions, have lodged themselves in the three regions
of mankind, _court_, _city_, and _country_, correspondent, in some
proportion, to those three regions of the world. For there is in
princes, and men of conspicuous power, anciently called _heroes_, a
lustre and influence upon the rest of men, resembling that of the
heavens; and an insincereness, inconstancy, and troublesome humour
in those that dwell in populous cities, like the mobility,
blustering, and impurity of the air; and a plainness, and, though
dull, yet a nutritive faculty in rural people, that endures a
comparison with the earth they labour.
From hence have proceeded three sorts of poesy, _heroic_,
_scommatic_, and _pastoral_. Every one of these is distinguished
again in the manner of _representation_; which sometimes is
_narrative_, wherein the poet himself relateth; and sometimes
_dramatic_, as when the persons are every one adorned and brought
upon the theatre, to speak and act their own parts. There is
therefore neither more nor less than six sorts of poesy. For the
heroic poem narrative, such as is yours, is called an _epic_ poem;
the heroic poem dramatic, is _tragedy_. The scommatic narrative is
_satire_; dramatic is _comedy_. The pastoral narrative, is called
simply _pastoral_, anciently _bucolic_; the same dramatic, _pastoral
comedy_. The figure therefore of an epic poem, and of a tragedy,
ought to be the same: for they differ no more but in that they are
pronounced by one, or many persons; which I insert to justify the
figure of yours, consisting of five books divided into songs, or
cantos; as five acts divided into scenes, has ever been the approved
figure of a tragedy.
They that take for poesy whatsoever is writ in verse, will think
this division imperfect, and call in sonnets, epigrams, eclogues,
and the like pieces, which are but essays, and parts of an entire
poem; and reckon Empedocles and Lucretius, natural philosophers, for
poets; and the moral precepts of Phocylides Theognis, and the
quatrains of Pybrach, and the history of Lucan, and others of that
kind, amongst poems: bestowing on such writers, for honour, the name
of poets, rather than of historians or philosophers. But the subject
of a poem is the manners of men, not natural causes; manners
presented, not dictated; and manners feigned, as the name of poesy
imports, not found in men. They that give entrance to fictions writ
in prose, err not so much; but they err; for prose requireth
delightfulness, not only of fiction, but of style; in which if prose
contend with verse, it is with disadvantage and, as it were, on foot
against the strength and wings of Pegasus.
For verse amongst the Greeks was appropriated anciently to the
service of their Gods, and was the holy style; the style of the
oracles; the style of the laws; and the style of the men that
publicly recommended to their Gods the vows and thanks of the
people, which was done in their holy songs called hymns; and the
composers of them were called prophets and priests, before the name
of poet was known. When afterwards the majesty of that style was
observed, the poets chose it as best becoming their high invention.
And for the antiquity of verse, it is greater than the antiquity of
letters. For it is certain, Cadmus was the first that from Phœnicia,
a country that neighboureth Judea, brought the use of letters into
Greece. But the service of the Gods, and the laws, which by measured
sounds were easily committed to the memory, had been long time in
use before the arrival of Cadmus there.
There is, besides the grace of style, another cause why the ancient
poets chose to write in measured language; which is this. Their
poems were made at first with intention to have them sung, as well
epic as dramatic (which custom hath been long time laid aside, but
began to be revived in part, of late years, in Italy,) and could not
be made commensurable to the voice or instruments, in prose; the
ways and motions whereof are so uncertain and undistinguished, like
the way and motion of a ship in the sea, as not only to discompose
the best composers, but also to disappoint sometimes the most
attentive reader, and put him to hunt counter for the sense. It was
therefore necessary for poets in those times to write in verse.
The verse which the Greeks and Latins, considering the nature of
their own languages, found by experience most grave, and for an epic
poem most decent, was their _hexameter_; a verse limited not only in
the length of the line, but also in the quantity of the syllables.
Instead of which we use the line of ten syllables, recompensing the
neglect of their quantity with the diligence of rhyme. And this
measure is so proper to an heroic poem, as without some loss of
gravity or dignity, it was never changed. A longer is not far from
ill prose; and a shorter, is a kind of whisking, you know, like the
unlacing, rather than the singing of a muse. In an epigram or a
sonnet, a man may vary his measures, and seek glory from a needless
difficulty; as he that contrived verses into the forms of an organ,
a hatchet, an egg, an altar, and a pair of wings; but in so great
and noble a work as is an epic poem, for a man to obstruct his own
way with unprofitable difficulties, is great imprudence. So likewise
to choose a needless and difficult correspondence of rhyme, is but a
difficult toy, and forces a man sometimes, for the stopping of a
chink, to say somewhat he did never think. I cannot therefore but
very much approve your _stanza_, wherein the syllables in every
verse are ten, and the rhyme alternate.
For the choice of your subject you have sufficiently justified
yourself in your preface. But because I have observed in Virgil,
that the honour done to Æneas and his companions, has so bright a
reflection upon Augustus Cæsar, and other great Romans of that time,
as a man may suspect him not constantly possessed with the noble
spirit of those his heroes; and I believe you are not acquainted
with any great man of the race of Gondibert, I add to your
justification the purity of your purpose, in having no other motive
of your labour, but to adorn virtue, and procure her lovers; than
which there cannot be a worthier design, and more becoming noble
poesy.
In that you make so small account of the example of almost all the
approved poets, ancient and modern, who thought fit in the
beginning, and sometimes also in the progress of their poems, to
invoke a Muse, or some other deity, that should dictate to them, or
assist them in their writings; they that take not the laws of art,
from any reason of their own, but from the fashion of precedent
times, will perhaps accuse your singularity. For my part, I neither
subscribe to their accusation, nor yet condemn that heathen custom,
otherwise than as accessory to their false religion. For their poets
were their divines; had the name of prophets; exercised amongst the
people a kind of spiritual authority; would be thought to speak by a
divine spirit; have their works which they writ in verse (the divine
style) pass for the word of God, and not of man, and to be hearkened
to with reverence. Do not the divines, excepting the style, do the
same, and by us that are of the same religion cannot justly be
reprehended for it? Besides, in the use of the spiritual calling of
divines, there is danger sometimes to be feared, from want of skill,
such as is reported of unskilful conjurers, that mistaking the rites
and ceremonious points of their art, call up such spirits, as they
cannot at their pleasure allay again; by whom storms are raised,
that overthrow buildings, and are the cause of miserable wrecks at
sea. Unskilful divines do oftentimes the like; for when they call
unseasonably for _zeal_, there appears a spirit of _cruelty_; and by
the like error, instead of _truth_, they raise _discord_; instead of
_wisdom_, _fraud_; instead of _reformation_, _tumult_; and
_controversy_, instead of _religion_. Whereas in the heathen poets,
at least in those whose works have lasted to the time we are in,
there are none of those indiscretions to be found, that tended to
the subversion, or disturbance of the commonwealths wherein they
lived. But why a Christian should think it an ornament to his poem,
either to profane the true God, or invoke a false one, I can imagine
no cause, but a reasonless imitation of custom; of a foolish custom,
by which a man enabled to speak wisely from the principles of
nature, and his own meditation, loves rather to be thought to speak
by inspiration, like a bagpipe.
Time and education beget experience; experience begets memory;
memory begets judgment and fancy; judgment begets the strength and
structure, and fancy begets the ornaments of a poem. The ancients
therefore fabled not absurdly, in making Memory the mother of the
Muses. For memory is the world, though not really, yet so as in a
looking-glass, in which the judgment, the severer sister, busieth
herself in a grave and rigid examination of all the parts of nature,
and in registering by letters their order, causes, uses,
differences, and resemblances; whereby the fancy, when any work of
art is to be performed, finds her materials at hand and prepared for
use, and needs no more than a swift motion over them, that what she
wants, and is there to be had, may not lie too long unespied. So
that when she seemeth to fly from one Indies to the other, and from
heaven to earth, and to penetrate into the hardest matter and
obscurest places, into the future, and into herself, and all this in
a point of time, the voyage is not very great, herself being all she
seeks. And her wonderful celerity, consisteth not so much in motion,
as in copious imagery discreetly ordered, and perfectly registered
in the memory; which most men under the name of philosophy have a
glimpse of, and is pretended to by many, that grossly mistaking her,
embrace contention in her place. But so far forth as the fancy of
man has traced the ways of true philosophy, so far it hath produced
very marvellous effects to the benefit of mankind. All that is
beautiful or defensible in building; or marvellous in engines and
instruments of motion; whatsoever commodity men receive from the
observations of the heavens, from the description of the earth, from
the account of time, from walking on the seas; and whatsoever
distinguisheth the civility of Europe, from the barbarity of the
American savages; is the workmanship of fancy, but guided by the
precepts of true philosophy. But where these precepts fail, as they
have hitherto failed in the doctrine of moral virtue, there the
architect Fancy must take the philosopher’s part upon herself. He,
therefore, who undertakes an heroic poem, which is to exhibit a
venerable and amiable image of heroic virtue, must not only be the
poet, to place and connect, but also the philosopher, to furnish and
square his matter; that is, to make both body and soul, colour and
shadow of his poem out of his own store; which, how well you have
performed I am now considering.
Observing how few the persons be you introduce in the beginning, and
how in the course of the actions of these, the number increasing,
after several confluences, they run all at last into the two
principal streams of your poem, _Gondibert and Oswald_, methinks the
fable is not much unlike the theatre. For so, from several and far
distant sources, do the lesser brooks of Lombardy, flowing into one
another, fall all at last into the two main rivers, the Po and the
Adige. It hath the same resemblance also with a man’s veins, which
proceeding from different parts, after the like concourse, insert
themselves at last into the two principal veins of the body. But
when I considered that also the actions of men, which singly are
inconsiderable, after many conjunctures, grow at last either into
one great protecting power, or into two destroying factions, I could
not but approve the structure of your poem, which ought to be no
other than such as an imitation of human life requireth.
In the streams themselves I find nothing but settled valour, clean
honour, calm counsel, learned diversion, and pure love; save only a
torrent or two of ambition, which, though a fault, has somewhat
heroic in it, and therefore must have place in an heroic poem. To
shew the reader in what place he shall find every excellent picture
of virtue you have drawn, is too long. And to show him one, is to
prejudice the rest; yet I cannot forbear to point him to the
description of love in the person of Bertha, in the seventh canto of
the second book. There has nothing been said of that subject,
neither by the ancient nor modern poets, comparable to it. Poets are
painters; I would fain see another painter draw so true, perfect,
and natural a love to the life, and make use of nothing but pure
lines, without the help of any the least uncomely shadow, as you
have done. But let it be read as a piece by itself: for in the
almost equal height of the whole, the eminence of parts is lost.
There are some that are not pleased with fiction, unless it be bold;
not only to exceed the _work_, but also the _possibility_ of nature;
they would have impenetrable armours, enchanted castles,
invulnerable bodies, iron men, flying horses, and a thousand other
such things, which are easily feigned by them that dare. Against
such I defend you, without assenting to those that condemn either
Homer or Virgil; by dissenting only from those that think the beauty
of a poem consisteth in the exorbitancy of the fiction. For as truth
is the bound of historical, so the resemblance of truth is the
utmost limit of poetical liberty. In old time amongst the heathen,
such strange fictions and metamorphoses were not so remote from the
articles of their faith, as they are now from ours, and therefore
were not so unpleasant. Beyond the actual works of nature a poet may
now go; but beyond the conceived possibility of nature, never. I can
allow a geographer to make in the sea, a fish or a ship, which by
the scale of his map would be two or three hundred miles long, and
think it done for ornament, because it is done without the precincts
of his undertaking: but when he paints an elephant so, I presently
apprehend it as ignorance, and a plain confession of _terra
incognita_.
As the description of great men and great actions is the constant
design of a poet; so the descriptions of worthy circumstances are
necessary accessions to a poem, and being well performed, are the
jewels and most precious ornaments of poesy. Such in Virgil are the
funeral games of Anchises, the duel of Æneas and Turnus, &c. And
such in yours, are _the Hunting_, _the Battle_, _the City Mourning_,
_the Funeral_, _the House of Astragon_, _the Library and the
Temple_; equal to his, or those of Homer whom he imitated.
There remains now no more to be considered but the expression, in
which consisteth the countenance and colour of a beautiful Muse; and
is given her by the poet out of his own provision, or is borrowed
from others. That which he hath of his own, is nothing but
experience and knowledge of nature, and specially human nature; and
is the true and natural colour. But that which is taken out of
books, the ordinary boxes of counterfeit complexion, shows well or
ill, as it hath more or less resemblance with the natural; and are
not to be used without examination unadvisedly. For in him that
professes the imitation of nature, as all poets do, what greater
fault can there be, than to betray an ignorance of nature in his
poem; especially, having a liberty allowed him, if he meet with any
thing he cannot master, to leave it out?
That which giveth a poem the true and natural colour, consisteth in
two things; which are, _to know well_, that is, to have images of
nature in the memory distinct and clear; and _to know much_. A sign
of the first is perspicuity, propriety, and decency; which delight
all sorts of men, either by instructing the ignorant, or soothing
the learned in their knowledge. A sign of the latter is novelty of
expression, and pleaseth by excitation of the mind; for novelty
causeth admiration, and admiration curiosity, which is a delightful
appetite of knowledge.
There be so many words in use at this day in the English tongue,
that, though of magnific sound, yet like the windy blisters of
troubled waters, have no sense at all, and so many others that lose
their meaning by being ill coupled; that it is a hard matter to
avoid them. For having been obtruded upon youth in the schools, by
such as make it, I think, their business there, as it is expressed
by the best poet
“With terms to charm the weak and pose the wise,”
GONDIBERT, Book ii. Canto 5, verse 44.
they grow up with them, and gaining reputation with the ignorant,
are not easily shaken off.
To this palpable darkness, I may also add the ambitious obscurity of
expressing more than is perfectly conceived; or perfect conception
in fewer words than it requires. Which expressions, though they have
had the honour to be called strong lines, are indeed no better than
riddles, and not only to the reader, but also after a little time to
the writer himself, dark and troublesome.
To the propriety of expression I refer that clearness of memory, by
which a poet when he hath once introduced any person whatsoever,
speaking in his poem, maintaineth in him to the end the same
character he gave him in the beginning. The variation whereof, is a
change of pace, that argues the poet tired.
Of the indecencies of an heroic poem, the most remarkable are those
that show disproportion either between the persons and their
actions, or between the manners of the poet and the poem. Of the
first kind, is the uncomeliness of representing in great persons the
inhuman vice of cruelty, or the sordid vices of lust and
drunkenness. To such parts, as those the ancient approved poets
thought it fit to suborn, not the persons of men, but of monsters
and beastly giants, such as Polyphemus, Cacus, and the Centaurs. For
it is supposed a Muse, when she is invoked to sing a song of that
nature, should maidenly advise the poet to set such persons to sing
their own vices upon the stage; for it is not so unseemly in a
_tragedy_. Of the same kind it is to represent scurrility, or any
action or language that moveth much laughter. The delight of an
_epic_ poem consisteth not in mirth, but admiration. Mirth and
laughter are proper to _comedy_ and _satire_. Great persons, that
have their minds employed on great designs, have not leisure enough
to laugh, and are pleased with the contemplation of their own power
and virtues, so as they need not the infirmities and vices of other
men to recommend themselves to their own favour by comparison, as
all men do when they laugh. Of the second kind, where the
disproportion is between the poet and the persons of his poem, one
is in the dialect of the inferior sort of people, which is always
different from the language of the court. Another is, to derive the
illustration of any thing from such metaphors or comparisons as
cannot come into men’s thoughts, but by mean conversation, and
experience of humble or evil arts, which the person of an epic poem
cannot be thought acquainted with.
From _knowing much_, proceedeth the admirable variety and novelty of
metaphors and similitudes, which are not possible to be lighted on
in the compass of a narrow knowledge. And the want whereof
compelleth a writer to expressions that are either defaced by time,
or sullied with vulgar or long use. For the phrases of poesy, as the
airs of music, with often hearing become insipid; the reader having
no more sense of their force, than our flesh is sensible of the
bones that sustain it. As the sense we have of bodies, consisteth in
change of variety of impression, so also does the sense of language
in the variety and changeable use of words. I mean not in the
affectation of words newly brought home from travel, but in new, and
withal significant, translation to our purposes, of those that be
already received; and in far-fetched, but withal, apt, instructive,
and comely similitudes.
Having thus, I hope, avoided the first exception, against the
incompetency of my judgment, I am but little moved with the second,
which is of being bribed by the honour you have done me, by
attributing in your preface somewhat to my judgment. For I have used
your judgment no less in many things of mine, which coming to light
will thereby appear the better. And so you have your bribe again.
Having thus made way for the admission of my testimony, I give it
briefly thus. I never yet saw poem, that had so much shape of art,
health of morality, and vigour and beauty of expression, as this of
yours. And but for the clamour of the multitude, that hide their
envy of the present under a reverence of antiquity, I should say
further, that it would last as long as either the _Æneid_, or
_Iliad_, but for one disadvantage; and the disadvantage is this; the
languages of the Greeks and Romans, by their colonies and conquests,
have put off flesh and blood, and are become immutable, which none
of the modern tongues are like to be. I honour antiquity; but that
which is commonly called _old time_, is _young time_. The glory of
antiquity is due, not to the dead, but to the aged.
And now, whilst I think of it, give me leave with a short discord to
sweeten the harmony of the approaching close. I have nothing to
object against your poem; but dissent only from something in your
preface, sounding to the prejudice of age. It is commonly said, that
old age is a return to childhood. Which methinks you insist on so
long, as if you desired it should be believed. That is the note I
mean to shake a little. That saying, meant only of the weakness of
body, was wrested to the weakness of mind, by froward children,
weary of the controlment of their parents, masters, and other
admonitors. Secondly, the dotage and childishness they ascribe to
age, is never the effect of time, but sometimes of the excesses of
youth, and not a returning to, but a continual stay, with childhood.
For they that wanting the curiosity of furnishing their memories
with the rarities of nature in their youth, pass their time in
making provision only for their ease and sensual delight, are
children still at what years soever; as they that coming into a
populous city, never going out of their inn, are strangers still,
how long soever they have been there. Thirdly, there is no reason
for any man to think himself wiser to-day than yesterday, which does
not equally convince he shall be wiser to-morrow than to-day.
Fourthly, you will be forced to change your opinion hereafter when
you are old; and in the mean time you discredit all I have said
before in your commendation, because I am old already. But no more
of this.
I believe, Sir, you have seen a curious kind of perspective, where
he that looks through a short hollow pipe upon a picture containing
divers figures, sees none of those that are there painted, but some
one person made up of their parts, conveyed to the eye by the
artificial cutting of a glass. I find in my imagination an effect
not unlike it, from your poem. The virtues you distribute there
amongst so many noble persons, represent, in the reading, the image
but of one man’s virtue to my fancy, which is your own; and that so
deeply imprinted, as to stay for ever there, and govern all the rest
of my thoughts and affections in the way of honouring and serving
you to the utmost of my power, that am,
Sir,
Your most humble and obedient servant,
THOMAS HOBBES.
_Paris, Jan. 10, 1650._
-------
LETTER TO THE
RIGHT HONOURABLE EDW. HOWARD.[B]
TO THE RIGHT HON. MR. EDWARD HOWARD.
SIR,
My judgment in poetry hath, you know, been once already censured by
very good wits, for commending _Gondibert_; but yet they have not, I
think, disabled my testimony. For what authority is there in wit? A
jester may have it; a man in drink may have it; be fluent over
night, and wise and dry in the morning. What is it? Or who can tell
whether it be better to have it or be without it, especially if it
be a pointed wit? I will take my liberty to praise what I like, as
well as they do to reprehend what they do not like. Your poem, Sir,
contains a well and judiciously contrived story, full of admirable
and heroic actions, set forth in noble and perspicuous language,
such as becomes the dignity of the persons you introduce: which two
things of themselves are the heighth of poetry. I know that variety
of story, true or feigned, is the thing wherewith the reader is
entertained most delightfully. And this also to the smallness of the
volume is not wanting. Yours is but one small piece; whereas the
poets that are with us so much admired, have taken larger subjects.
But let an English reader, in Homer or Virgil in English, by
whomsoever translated, read one piece by itself, no greater than
yours; I may make a question whether he will be less pleased with
yours than his. I know you do not equal your poem to either of
theirs: the bulk of the work does not distinguish the art of the
workman. [The Battle of Mice and Frogs may be owned without
disparagement by Homer himself. Yet if Homer had written nothing
else, he never had had the reputation of so admirable a poet as he
was.][C] Ajax was a man of very great stature, and Teucer a very
little person: yet he was brother to Ajax, both in blood and
chivalry. I commend your poem for judgment, not for bulk; and am
assured it will be welcome to the world with its own confidence;
though if it come forth armed with verses and epistles, I cannot
tell what to think of it. For the great wits will think themselves
threatened, and rebel. Unusual fortifications upon the borders,
carry with them a suspicion of hostility. And poets will think such
letters of commendation a kind of confederacy and league, tending to
usurp upon their liberty. [I have told you my judgment, and you may
make use of it as you please. But I remember a line or two in your
poem, that touched upon divinity, wherein we differed in opinion.
But since you say the book is licensed, I shall think no more upon
it, but only reserve my liberty of dissenting, which I know you will
allow me.][D] I rest,
Sir,
Your most humble and obedient servant,
THOMAS HOBBES.
_Chatsworth,
October the 24th, 1668._
Footnote B:
This letter is here printed from the autograph of Mr. Hobbes, now
in the possession of Rowland Eyles Egerton Warburton, Esq. of
Arley Hall, Cheshire. The same letter, with the variations
hereafter noticed, was prefixed to Mr. Howard’s poem, “_The
British Princes_,” published in 1669: it is there addressed “_To
the Honourable Edward Howard, Esq. on his intended impression of
his poem of the 'British Princes,'_” and is subscribed,
“_I need say no more, but rest,
Your Honour’s most humble and obedient servant_,
THOMAS HOBBS.
_Chatsworth, Nov. the 6th, 1668._”
Footnote C:
The passage between brackets is omitted in the letter prefixed to
the _British Princes_, and the following is substituted for it:
“_Besides 'tis a virtue in a poet to advance the honour of his
remotest ancestors, especially when it has not been done before.
What, though you out-go the limits of certain history? Do
painters, when they paint the face of the earth, leave a blank
beyond what they know? Do not they fill up the space with strange
rocks, monsters, and other gallantry, to fix their work in the
memory of men by the delight of fancy? So will your readers from
this poem think honourably of their original, which is a kind of
piety._”
Footnote D:
This passage is omitted in the “_British Princes_.”
END OF VOL. IV.
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-------
_To be completed in 12 Vols. 8vo. each 12s. cloth lettered_,
THE COMPLETE WORKS
OF
THOMAS HOBBES
OF MALMESBURY,
NOW FIRST COLLECTED AND EDITED
BY
SIR WILLIAM MOLESWORTH, BART. M.P.
-------
Although the close reasoning of HOBBES, expressed in beautiful
language, has created a host of admirers, yet, owing to the
excessive rarity of his detached writings, many of which have never
been reprinted, no complete set of his works is to be found in any
one of our public or private libraries. To remedy this evil, and to
present an edition worthy of the Author, the Editor has collected
together the various pieces, and at his own cost has determined to
reprint them uniformly, in the best style of modern typography. Five
volumes (I. II. of the Latin, and I. III. and IV. of the English
works) are already published, and the remainder will follow as
speedily as a due regard to correctness will allow.
As the impression is limited, and the price of each volume (between
500 and 600 pages, with Engravings) is unusually low, the Publisher
has every reason to expect that within a short period the whole of
the copies will be subscribed for, and therefore would earnestly
recommend an early application, to prevent disappointment.
An excellent analysis of this author’s writings will be found in Mr.
Hallam’s able Introduction to the Literature of Europe, and the
following testimonies in favour of his style will convey some idea
of the estimation in which his writings are held.
“Hobbes’ language is so lucid and concise that it would almost be as
improper to put an algebraical process in different terms as some of
his metaphysical paragraphs.”—HALLAM.
“A permanent foundation of his fame consists in his admirable style,
which seems to be the very perfection of didactic language.“—SIR
JAMES MACKINTOSH.
“Here let us do justice to that great man’s memory, at a time his
writings seem to be entirely neglected, who, with all his errors, we
must allow to be one of the first men of his age, for a bright wit,
a deep penetration, and a cultivated understanding.”—BP. WARBURTON.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------
In crown 8vo. price 8_s._ in extra boards,
=An Apology=
FOR
=Cathedral Service.=
“_Apology for the Bible? I didn’t know that the
Bible wanted any apology._”—KING GEORGE III.
“This is a very delightful work, and contains much more than its
title implies. The style is quaint and original, and reminds us of
that of some of our older writers. It is throughout enriched with a
number of curious and interesting quotations and illustrations,
which display considerable information and research. It is full of
the 'spirit of antiquity,' if we may use such an expression, and is
deeply imbued with a love for those admirable and venerable
institutions, which we owe to the wisdom of past ages. The defence
of the practice of chanting, of the whole Cathedral Service, and,
indeed, of Cathedral institutions altogether, is excellent, and will
repay an attentive perusal.”—CHURCHMAN.
“This clever work is indeed still of the Spirit of Antiquity, and
evinces great originality and freshness of thought, brilliancy of
imagination, profound argument, strong feeling, and a thorough and
hearted love of the cause so eloquently advocated.”—SALISBURY
HERALD.
-------
In foolscap 8vo. price 8_s._ in cloth, lettered,
THE DEATH OF DEMOSTHENES.
=And other Original Poems:=
WITH THE PROMETHEUS AND AGAMEMNON OF ÆSCHYLUS,
TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK,
BY GEORGE CROKER FOX, ESQ.
“We hail the publication of this work as a valuable addition to our
literature. With an elegant and graceful dedication to our young and
interesting Queen, the volume consists of original Poems,
distinguished for beauty of thought, expressed in language classic
and polished; and of translations rarely equalled for fidelity and
vigour. The Death of Demosthenes is indeed a noble subject, nobly
executed.”... “We have now done our most arduous but pleasing task,
to review the finest poems which have appeared for many years. In
this utilitarian age of steam and vapour, when, whilst we are going
on with our rail-roads, we are going back in our learning, it is
rare to find a mind which can think with and emulate the
ancients—give a new charm to classic literature—call forth the
mighty spirits of Greece—bring them, with all their eloquence and
genius, before us—create with them—copy after them. Mr. Fox,
therefore, deserves our commendation, and merits our gratitude for
his classical volume of poems; for nothing perfect in eloquence,
nothing perfect in poetry, can be produced, unless we love, study,
and imitate the great masters of thought and taste—the ancients—
“—— —————————color che sanno.”—_Dante._
The classical is another name for the beautiful, and Mr. Fox’s
volume must charm all, except the ignorant without learning, and the
learned without taste.”—DUBLIN REVIEW.
-------
In one volume, 8vo. price 16_s._ in cloth, lettered,
A CLASSICAL & ARCHÆOLOGICAL DICTIONARY
OF THE MANNERS, CUSTOMS, LAWS, INSTITUTIONS, ARTS, &C. OF THE
CELEBRATED NATIONS OF ANTIQUITY AND OF THE MIDDLE AGES.
TO WHICH IS PREFIXED
A SYNOPTICAL AND CHRONOLOGICAL VIEW OF ANCIENT HISTORY.
BY P. A. NUTTALL, LL.D.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
In 15 vols. 8vo. price 7_l._ 17_s._ 6_d._ in boards,
TAYLOR'S (BP. JEREMY) WORKS,
With Life, by Bp. HEBER. Third Edition.
-------
ARRIAN ON COURSING,
Translated from the Greek, with Classical and Practical Annotations,
and a brief Sketch of the Life of the Author. To which is added an
Appendix, containing some Account of the Canes Venatici of
Classical Antiquity; royal 8vo. _24 embellishments from the
Antique, on India paper_, extra boards, 1_l._ 11_s._ 6_d._
-------
BRYDGES' (THE RT. HON. SIR HARFORD JONES)
WORKS ON PERSIA.
The Dynasty of the Kajars, translated from the original Persian
Manuscript presented by His Majesty Faty Aly Shah to Sir Harford
Jones Brydges, Bart. K.C. LL.D. late Envoy Extraordinary and
Minister Plenipotentiary from his Britannic Majesty to the Court
of Teheran. To which is prefixed, a succinct Account of the
History of Persia previous to that Period, 8vo. frontispiece and 3
maps, boards, 1_l._ 4_s._
An Account of the Transactions of His Majesty’s Mission to the Court
of Persia in the Years 1807-11, by Sir Harford Jones Brydges,
Bart. To which is added a brief History of the Wahauby, 2 vols.
8vo. plates, bds. 1_l._ 1_s._
-------
DANSEY (REV. W.) ON RURAL DEANS.
Horæ Decanicæ Rurales, being an Attempt to illustrate, by a Series
of Notes and Extracts, the Name and Title, the Origin,
Appointment, and Functions of Rural Deans, &c. 2 vols. 4to.
half-bound morocco, top edges gilt, 1_l._ 11_s._ 6_d._
Archdeacon Goddard, in his recent charge, strongly recommends this
excellent work to the attentive perusal of every clergyman.
-------
HIGGINS' (G.) CELTIC DRUIDS;
Or an Attempt to show that the Druids were the Priests of Oriental
Colonies, who emigrated from India, and were the Introducers of
the first or Cadmean System of Letters, and the builders of
STONEHENGE, of Carnac, and of other Cyclopean Works in Asia and
Europe, 4to. map and numerous plates, bds. 3_l._
_Also, by the same Author._
ANACALYPSIS,
An Attempt to draw aside the Veil of the Saitic Isis; or an Inquiry
into the Origin of Languages, Nations and Religions, 2 vols. 4to.
plates, bds. 5_l._
-------
WOODVILLE'S (DR. WM.) MEDICAL BOTANY;
THIRD EDITION, materially enlarged and improved by Professor Sir
WILLIAM JACKSON HOOKER, LL.D. F.R.S. L.S. &c. and G. SPRATT, Esq.
5 vols. 4to. 310 plates, engraved by Sowerby and Spratt, boards,
5_l._ 15_s._ 6_d._ or with the plates finely coloured, 8_l._
------------------------------------------------------------------------
_In the press, and shortly will be published, in 3 vols. 8vo._
DR. FIELD'S
BOOK OF THE CHURCH.
=A New Edition, with Notes,=
BY
THE REV. JOHN S. BREWER. M.A.
OF QUEEN'S COLLEGE, OXFORD.
-------
As Dr. Field’s Book of the Church has become excessively rare, and,
though much in request, is not attainable at any price, the
Publisher, at the suggestion of several eminent clergymen, has
undertaken a new edition of this very valuable work. In order to
render it worthy of attention, and far superior to all preceding
ones, the Rev. J. S. Brewer (a Gentleman whose well-known diligence
and accuracy guarantee its being executed in the best manner) has
kindly offered his services to collate the various editions, to
verify all the References, and to supply additional Notes where
necessary. He has likewise determined, on account of the extreme
rarity of many of the Authors cited by Dr. Field, to give his
quotations at full length at the bottom of each page; and at the end
of every chapter a brief list of writers, especially of English
Divines, who have treated on the same subject: thus rendering the
work a TEXT BOOK OF THEOLOGY.
As the rarity of this masterpiece of one of our most eminent Divines
has prevented its being so universally known as it deserves to be,
the Publisher may be pardoned for citing a few among the numerous
commendations in its favour.
Coleridge, the Poet, in a letter to his son, the Rev. Derwent
Coleridge, emphatically writes:—“THIS ONE VOLUME, THOROUGHLY
UNDERSTOOD AND APPROPRIATED, WILL PLACE YOU IN THE HIGHEST RANK OF
DOCTRINAL CHURCH-OF-ENGLAND DIVINES, AND OF NO MEAN RANK AS A TRUE
DOCTRINAL CHURCH HISTORIAN.”
King James I. delighted to discourse with Field on points of
Divinity, and, when he first preached before him, said: “Is his name
Field? This is the FIELD for God to dwell in.” On hearing of his
death, the King expressed regret, and added, “I should have done
more for that man!”
Fuller, in the same punning age, calls him, “That learned Divine,
whose memory smelleth like a FIELD which the Lord hath blessed.”
Anthony a Wood tells us he was esteemed “the best disputant in the
schools.”
“Field was well skilled in School Divinity, and a frequent preacher
while he lived in Oxfordshire, and is said to have been very
instrumental in preventing the increase of nonconformity in the
University.”—GOUGH.
“When he first set about writing his book 'OF THE CHURCH,' his old
acquaintance, Dr. Kettle, dissuaded him, telling him that when once
he was engaged in controversy he would never live quietly, but be
continually troubled with answers and replies. To this Field
answered, 'I will so write that they shall have no great mind to
answer me;' which proved to be nearly the case, as his main
arguments were never refuted.”—CHALMERS.
Heylin, in his “Life of Laud,” calls him, “the reverend right
learned Dr. Field, whose excellent works will keep his name alive to
succeeding ages.”
---------------------
SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES RECEIVED BY
JOHN BOHN, 17, Henrietta Street, Covent Garden.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Transcriber’s Note
In the table of contents, the page number for the final section
(“Letter to the Right Honourable Edward Howard”) was incorrectly
given as p. 459. The section begins at p. 458 and the correction was
made.
At 42.17, the word ‘forwardness’ appears. Several lines earlier,
‘frowardness’ is used. The discrepancy is probably a printer’s
error. ‘Froward’ is also used elsewhere: ‘_froward_ children, weary
of the controlment of their parents’ (p. 457). Since Hobbes is
discussing a specific behavior, the former has been retained as less
ambiguous.
The chapter summary for Part II, Chapter II of DE CORPORE POLITICO,
on p. 138, misnumbered section 2 as ‘1’.
On p. 117, a reference to section 16 of the XIIth chapter of _Human
Nature_ is incorrect. The 6th section of that chapter is the
obviously correct reference.
On p. 201, a reference to section 9 of the VIIth chapter of the same
text is also incorrect. The 8th section seems to be the intended
reference.
Other errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been
corrected, and are noted here. The references are to the page and
line in the original.
26.21 I take _nosce t[ei/e i]psum_ for a precept Space added.
176.32 Jesus Christ is come in [t]he flesh Added.
183.18 is not only not necessa[a/r]y Replaced.
216.12 a duty of sovere[i]gns Inserted.
248.28 Thus you see the case[ ]put by St. Paul Inserted.
270.22 are necess[s]ary. Removed.
333.1 nor had he[ he] received Removed.
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