the superintendence and care which God exercises over creation.

That there exists a divine providence which attends Belief of all the affairs of this world, and directs their course, has been a received opinion among the human race in every country and in every period of history. Every altar that is erected, every prayer and every sacrifice that is offered up, affords a proof of this belief. So fully have men been convinced of the sincerity of each other's faith upon this subject, that in one form, that of an appeal to the Divine Ruler of the world, by the solemnity of an oath, they have introduced it both into the most ordinary and the most important business of life.

This universal conviction of men of all degrees of existence knowledge, from the most profound philosopher to the most rudest barbarian, is probably to be traced to some principle may be called tradition, never totally effaced from any nation or people under heaven. The truth itself, however, is susceptible of principles of the most complete proof from principles of science, past.

If the world had a beginning, it may obviously have an end, and can be continued in existence only by the constant energy of that power by which it was at first created. He therefore who acknowledges a creation and denies a providence, involves himself in this palpable contradiction—"that a system, which of itself had not an original and momentary existence, may yet of itself have a perpetual existence; or that a being which cannot of itself exist for a second of time, may yet, of itself, exist for thousands of years!" Or should we be so complaisant, as for a moment to suppose, with certain theists, ancient and modern, that the matter of the universe is self-existent and eternal, and that the power of God was exerted, not in creating substances, but in reducing the original matter from a state of chaos into that beautiful order in which we see it arranged; the constant energy of providence must still be admitted as necessary to preserve the forms and to continue the motions which were originally impressed upon the chaotic mass. From late experiments it appears extremely doubtful whether any two atoms of the most solid body be in actual contact; and that they are not all in contact is certain. (See Metaphysics, No. 176, and Optics, No. 45, p. 185.) Yet it requires a very considerable degree of force to carry to a greater distance from one another the parts of a stone or of a bar of iron. By what power then are these parts kept contiguous? It cannot be by their own; because nothing can act where it is not present, and because our best philosophy has long taught us that the atoms of matter are essentially inactive. Again, it requires a very great degree of force to bring two bodies, however small, into apparent contact (see Optics, ubi supra); and therefore it follows that they must be kept together by some foreign power. Every attempt to solve these phenomena by the intervention... vention of a subtle fluid is vain; for the question recurs, what keeps the parts of the fluid itself contiguous, and yet separated from each other?

The cohesion therefore of the parts of matter, and that which is called their repulsive power, demonstrate, through the whole system, the immediate energy of something which is not matter, and by which every body small and great is preserved in its proper form. It has been elsewhere shown (see Metaphysics, Part II. chap. 5, and Motion, No. 19, 20.), that the various motions which are regularly carried on through the universe, by which animals and vegetables grow and decay, and by which we have day and night, summer and winter, cannot be accounted for by any laws of mere mechanism, but necessarily imply the constant agency of something which is itself distinct from matter. But the forms of bodies are preserved, and their natural motions carried on, for purposes obviously planned by Wisdom. The power therefore which effects these things must be combined with intelligence: but power and intelligence preserving the order of the universe constitute all that is meant by a general providence; which is therefore as certainly administered as the daily rises and sets, or as bodies are kept solid by what is termed cohesion and repulsion.

Abstracted and metaphysical as this reasoning may appear, it is by no means peculiar to the philosophers of Europe. Its force has been felt from time immemorial by the Brahmans of Hindoostan, who, as Sir William Jones informs us*, "being unable to form a distinct idea of brute matter independent of mind, or to conceive that the work of supreme goodness was left a moment to itself, imagine that the Deity is ever present to his work, not in substance but in spirit and in energy." On this rational and sublime conception they have indeed built numberless abodes of superstition; but their holding the opinion itself, shows that they believe in the reality of providence upon philosophical principles: and what truth is there on which the mind of man has not ingrained marks of its own weakness?

Few nations, however, except the ancient Greeks, have had philosophers equally sublime with the Brahmans of India; and therefore though all mankind have in general agreed in the belief of a superintending Providence, they have in different ages and countries admitted that truth upon different kinds of evidence, and formed very different notions concerning the mode in which the Divine superintendence is exerted.

While societies are still in a rude and unpolished state, while individuals possess little security and little leisure for the exertion of their rational powers, every important or singular appearance in nature becomes an object of wonder or of terror. In this state of ignorance, men see not the universe as it is, a great collection of connected parts, all contributing to form one grand and beautiful system. Every appearance seems to stand alone; they know that it must have a cause, but what that cause is they are ignorant. The phenomena exhibited by nature are so complicated and so various, that it never occurs to them that it is possible for one Being to govern the whole. Hence arose the different systems of polytheism that have appeared in the world. Nature was divided into different regions, and a particular invisible power was assigned to each department: one conducted the flaming chariot of the sun, another wielded the terrible thunderbolt, and others were employed in diffusing Providence, plenty, and introducing the useful arts among men.

Thus, although the various systems of polytheism in general acknowledged one Supreme Ruler, the father of gods and men, yet they at the same time peopled not only the regions above, the air and the heavens, but they also filled the ocean and the land, every grove, and every mountain, with active but invisible natures. Having arisen from the same causes, these systems of polytheism, which are so many hypotheses concerning Divine providence, are all extremely similar; and we have a very favourable specimen of them in the elegant mythology of Greece and Rome, which gave to every region of nature a guardian genius, and taught men in the deep recesses of the forest, or in the windings of the majestic flood, to expect the presence of protecting and friendly powers. See Polytheism.

Notwithstanding this universal reception, in some form or other, of the doctrine of a divine providence, there has it has in every age met with some opponents. The most ancient of these were Democritus and Leucippus. They denied the existence of a Deity—affirmed that all things were mechanically necessary, and that thought and sense were only modifications of matter. This is atheism in the strictest sense, and the only form of it that has ever been consistently supported. Epicurus followed upon the same principles; but he rendered the system altogether absurd, by confessing the freedom of the human will. To avoid the imputation of atheism, he affirmed the existence of God; but declared that he resided above the heavens, and interfered not in human affairs. One of his maxims was, that "the blest and immortal Being neither hath any employment himself, nor troubles himself with others." Maximus Tyrius* * Max. justly observes, that this is rather a description of a Sardanapalus than of a Deity. And some of the most illustrious of antiquity remarked, that they knew many men among themselves possessed of active and generous minds, whose characters they valued more highly than that of Epicurus's god. Some of the ancients also appear to have entertained the following strange notion: They acknowledged the existence of a Supreme and of many inferior deities; but at the same time, they supposed that there is a certain fate which rules over all, and is superior to the gods themselves. See Necessity in Mythology.

The providence exerted by the Author of nature over his works is usually divided into two branches: a general, referring to the management of the universe at large; and a particular providence, chiefly regarding particular men.

Upon the first of these, in The Religion of Nature delineated, the question is stated somewhat in the following manner: The world may be said to be governed, or at least cannot be said to fluctuate fortuitously, if there are laws or rules by which natural causes act; if the several phenomena in it succeed regularly, and in general the constitution of things is preserved; if there are rules observed in the production of herbs, trees, and the like; if the several kinds of animals are furnished with faculties proper to determine their actions in the different stations which they hold in the general economy of the world; and lastly, if rational beings are taken care of in such a manner as will at last agree best with reason. By the providence of God we ought to understand... understand his governing the world by such laws as these now mentioned: so that if there are such, there must be a Divine providence.

With regard to inanimate objects, the case agrees precisely with the above supposition. The whole of that universe which we see around us is one magnificent and well regulated machine. The world that we inhabit is a large globe, which, conducted by an invisible power, flies with a rapidity of which we have no conception, through an extent of space which sets at defiance every power of fancy to embody it into any distinct image. A large flaming orb stands immoveable in the heavens; around which this, and other worlds of different magnitudes, perform their perpetual revolutions. Hence arise the expected returns of day and night, and the regular diversity of seasons. Upon these great operations a thousand other circumstances depend. Hence, for example, the vapors ascend from the ocean, meet above in clouds, and after being condensed, descend in showers to cover the earth with fertility and beauty. And these appearances are permanent and regular. During every age since men have been placed upon the earth, this astonishing machine continued steadily to perform its complicated operations. Nothing is left to chance. The smallest bodies are not less regular than the largest, and observe continually the same rules of attraction, repulsion, &c. The apparent variations of nature proceed only from different circumstances and combinations of things, acting all the while under their ancient laws. We ourselves can calculate the effects of the laws of gravitation and of motion. We can render them subservient to our own purposes, with entire certainty of success if we only adhere to the rules established by nature, that is to say, by providence.

Vegetables also live and flourish according to prescribed methods. Each sort is produced from its proper seed; has the same texture of fibres, is at all times nourished by the same kind of juices, digested and prepared by the same vessels. Trees and shrubs receive annually their peculiar liveries, and bear their proper fruits: so regular are they in this last respect, that every species may be said to have its profession or trade appointed to it, by which it furnishes a certain portion of manufacture, or of food, to supply the wants of animals: being created for the purpose of consumption, all vegetables produce great quantities of feed to supply the necessary wants. Here too, then, there is evidently a regulation by which the several orders are preserved, and the ends of them answered according to their first establishment.

With regard to animals, they too, in structure of their form, are subject to laws similar to those which govern the vegetable world. In the sentient part of their constitution they are no less subject to rule. The lion is always fierce, the fox is crafty, and the hare is timid. Every species retains from age to age its appointed place and character in the great family of nature. The various tribes are made and placed in such a manner as to find proper means of support and defense. Beasts, birds, fishes, and insects, are all possessed of organs and faculties adapted to their respective circumstances, and opportunities of finding their proper food and prey.

Man is subject to the ordinary laws which other material and animal substances obey; but he is left more at large in the determination of his actions. Yet even Providence here things do not fluctuate at random. Individuals do indeed rise and perish according to fixed rules, and nations themselves have only a temporary endurance. But the species advances with a steady progress to intellectual improvement. This progress is often interrupted; but it appears not to be less sure at the long-run than even the mechanical laws which govern the material part of our constitution. Amidst the convulsion of states and the ruin of empires, the useful arts, when once invented, are never lost. These, in better times, render subsistence easy, and give leisure for reflection and study to a greater number of individuals. Tyre and Sidon have passed away, Athens itself has become the prey of barbarians, and the prosperity of ancient Egypt is departed, perhaps for ever; but the ship, the plow, and the loom, remain, and have been perpetually improving. Thus every new convulsion of society does less mischief than the last; and it is hoped that by the affluence of printing the most polished arts and the most refined speculations have now become immortal.

The world is not then left in a state of confusion: it is reduced into order, and methodised for ages to come; the several species of beings having their offices and provinces assigned them. Plants, animals, men, and nations, are in a state of continual change; but successors are appointed to relieve them, and to carry on the scheme of Providence.

But the great difficulty is, how to account for that Difficulty providence which is called particular: For rational beings, and free agents, are capable of doing and deserving for particular purposes, and the safety or danger, that happens or evidence. The unhappiness of a man here, must depend upon many things that seem scarcely capable of being determined by Providence. Besides himself and his own conduct, he depends upon the conduct of other men; whose actions, as we naturally suppose, cannot, consistently with their free will, be controuled for the advantage of another individual. The actions of numbers of men proceeding upon their private freedom, with different degrees of ability, as they cross and impede, or directly oppose each other, must produce very different effects upon men of different characters, and thus in a strange manner embarrass and entangle the general plan. And as to the course of nature, it may justly be asked, is the force of gravitation to be suspended till a good man pays an infrim building? (See Prayer). Add to this, that some circumstances appear absolutely irreconcilable. The wind which carries one into port drives another back to sea; and the rains that are just sufficient upon the hills may drown the inhabitants of the valleys. In short, may we expect miracles? or can there be a particular Providence that foresees and prepares for the several cases of individuals, without force frequently committed upon the laws of nature and the freedom of intelligent agents?

In whatever way it is brought about, there is little doubt that something of this kind must take place. For argument as the Deity does direct, as already mentioned, the greatest events and general progress of things in this world, he must also manage those of least importance. Nations are composed of individuals. The progress of individuals is the progress of the nation, and the greatest events usually depend upon the history and the most trifling actions. actions of private persons. The difficulty is to conceive how the superintendence and management of all this can be brought about. But as the ways and the thoughts of the Omnipotent Spirit, whose influence pervades, and rules, and animates nature, resemble not the limited operations of men, we can only form conjectures concerning the means by which his government is conducted.

1. In the first place, then, it is not impossible that the Deity should foresee the future actions of intelligent beings. Many of these actions depend upon the mechanism of the material world, which was formed by himself, and must be entirely known to him. Many men among ourselves possess much sagacity in discerning the future actions of others, from attending to their known characters, and the circumstances in which they are placed. If superior natures do exist, and minds more perfect than the human, they must possess this penetration in a more eminent degree in proportion to the excellence of their intellectual powers. But if this discernment be in God proportionable to his nature, as in lower beings it is proportionable to theirs, it then becomes altogether unlimited, and the future actions of free agents are at once unlocked and exposed to his view. Add to this, that the Author of nature is well acquainted with the creatures that he has made; he knows the mechanism of our bodies, the nature and extent of our understandings, and all the circumstances by which we are surrounded. With all these advantages, it is making no great stretch to suppose him capable of discerning the line of conduct which we will pursue; and this even setting aside the infinity of his nature, to which a thousand years are as one day, and supposing him to reason from probabilities in the imperfect manner that we do.

2. There is no imposibility at least, that men, whose characters and actions are thus foreknown, may be introduced into the world in such times and places as that their acts and behaviour may not only coincide with the general plan of things, but may also answer many private cases. The celestial bodies are so placed that their jarring attractions make out a splendid system. Why then may there not be in the Divine mind something like a projection of the future history of mankind, as well as of the motions of the heavenly bodies? And why should it not be thought possible for men, as well as for them, by some secret law, or rather by the management of an unseen power, to be brought into their places in such a manner as that, by the free use of their faculties, the conjunctions and oppositions of their interests and inclinations, the natural influence of their different degrees of talents, power, and wealth, they may contrive to make out the great scheme of human affairs? There is no absurdity in this supposition: it is not beyond the power of an almighty and perfect Being; and it is worthy of him. Let us take from the Jewish history, as most generally known, an example of what may be supposed to happen daily. It was the intention of providence to place David the son of Jesse upon the throne of the Hebrews. The country is invaded by a foreign enemy: the hostile armies meet, and lie encamped upon opposite mountains. A man comes forth from the army of the invaders, as was extremely common in those times, and defies the Hebrew host to send forth a champion to meet him in single combat. Terrified by the gigantic bulk and mighty force of Goliath, no man would risk the unequal conflict. David, who was too young to carry arms, had been sent to the camp with provisions for his brothers, and heard the challenge. In defence of his flock he had killed some beasts of prey in the wilderness, and he was an excellent marksman with the sling. He thought it might probably be as easy to kill a man as a wild beast; at all events, he knew that a stone well directed would prove no less fatal to a giant than to a dwarf: he therefore resolved to try his skill; and he tried it with success. Here no man's free will was interrupted, and no miracle was accomplished: Yet by this train of circumstances thus brought together, a foundation was laid for the future fortunes of the son of Jesse, for the greatness of his country, and for accomplishing the purposes of Providence. According to Seneca, "Hoc dico, fulmina non mitti a Jove, sed sic omnia difflata, ut eam etiam quae ab illo non sint, tamen sine ratione non sint; qua illius est."—Nam enim Jupiter illa nunc non facit, facit ut fierent."—I say, that the lightning comes not directly from the hand of Jove, but things are properly disposed for the indirect execution of his will; for he acts not immediately, but by the intervention of means.

3. Lastly, it is not impossible that many things may be accomplished by secret influence, upon the human fancies or mind, either by the Deity himself, or by the intervention of the mind of agents possessed of powers superior to those which from him belong to us. For instance, if the case should require possible, that a particular man be delivered from some threatening ruin, or from some misfortune, which would certainly befall him if he should go such a way at such a time, as he intended: upon this occasion some new reasons may be presented to his mind why he should not go at all, or not then, or not by that road; or he may forget to go. Or, if he is to be delivered from some dangerous enemy, either some new turn given to his thoughts may divert him from going where the enemy will be, or the enemy may be after the same manner diverted from coming where he shall be, or his resentment may be qualified; or some proper method of defense may be suggested to the person in danger. After the same manner advantages and successes may be conferred on the delivering; as, on the other side, men, by way of punishment for their crimes, may incur mischiefs and calamities. These things, and such as these (says Mr. Wollaston*), may be. For since the motions and actions of men, which depend upon their wills, do also depend delineated, upon their judgments, as these again do upon the present effects of appearances of things in their minds; if a new prospect of things can be any way produced, the lights by which they are seen altered, new forces and directions impressed upon the spirits, passions exalted or abated, the power of judging enfeebled or debilitated, or the attention taken off without any suspension or alteration of the standing laws of nature,—then, without that, new volitions, designs, measures, or a cessation of thinking, may also be produced; and thus many things prevented that otherwise would be, and many brought about that would not. That there may possibly be such inspirations of new thoughts and counsels (continues our author), may perhaps appear farther from this, that we frequently find thoughts arising in our heads, into which we are led by no discourse, nothing we read, no clue of reasoning, but they surprise and come upon us from we know not. Providence, not what quarter. If they proceeded from the mobility of spirits straggling out of order, and fortuitous affections of the brain, or were they of the nature of dreams, why are they not as wild, incoherent, and extravagant as they are?" Is it not much more reasonable to imagine that they come by the order and direction of an all-seeing and all-gracious God, who continually watches over us, and disposes every thing in and about us for the good of ourselves or others? not to speak of the agreeableness of this notion to the opinions of the best and wisest men in all ages (a). "If this, then, be the case, as it seems to be, that men's minds are susceptible of such insinuations and impressions, as frequently, by ways unknown, do affect them, and give them an inclination towards this or that; how many things (asks our author) may be brought to pass by these means without fixing and refining the laws of nature, any more than they are unfixed when one man alters the opinion of another by throwing in his way a book proper for that purpose?"

All this may be effected either by the immediate interposition of God himself, or by that of beings invisible, and in nature superior to us, who act as the ministers of his providence. That there are such beings we can hardly doubt, as it is in the highest degree improbable that such imperfect beings as men are at the top of the scale of created existence. And since ourselves, by the use of our limited powers, do often alter the course of things within our sphere from what they would be if left to the ordinary laws of motion and gravitation, without being said to alter those laws; why may not superior beings do the same as instruments of divine providence? This idea of the intervention of superior natures is beautifully illustrated by Thomson in the following passage:

These are the haunts of meditation, these The scenes where ancient birds th' inspiring breath, Ecstatic, felt; and from this world retir'd, Convers'd with angels and immortal forms, On gracious errands bent: to save the fall Of virtue struggling on the brink of vice; In waking whispers, and repeated dreams, To hint pure thought, and warn the favour'd soul For future trials fated to prepare.

We agree, however, with Mr Wollaston, in thinking the power of these beings not so large as to alter or suspend the general laws of nature (see MIRACLE); for the world is not like a bungling piece of clock-work, which requires to be often set backwards or forwards. We are likewise perfectly satisfied, that they cannot change their condition, to ape us or inferior beings; and consequently we are not apt hastily to credit stories of portents, &c. such as cannot be true, unless the nature of things and their manner of existence were occasionally reversed. Yet as men may be so placed as to become,

Vol. XVII. Part II.

(A) That such was the general belief of the Greeks in the days of Homer, is plain from that poet's constantly introducing his deities into the narrative of his poems, and telling us that Minerva, or some other god, altered the minds of his heroes. "By this," says Plutarch, "the poet does not mean to make God destroy the will of man, but only move him to will: nor does he miraculously produce the appetites themselves in men, but only causes such imaginations as are capable of exciting them." Where all must fall, or not coherent be; And all that rises, rise in due degree, was actually in the divine Architect's intention; but that it is possible, is sufficiently obvious. No man will pretend to say, that this earth could afford a comfort- able subsistence to a greater number of the human race, were all the inferior animals annihilated, than it could at present, swarming as every element is with life.— Suppose then, that as many men had been placed at first upon the earth as it could possibly support, and that matters had been so constituted, as that the num- ber should never have been either increased or diminish- ed; we beg leave to ask, whether, since there would have been evidently room for inferior animals, it would have been most worthy of infinite goodness to leave the whole globe to men, or to introduce into it different orders of less perfect beings, which, while they could not incom- modate this principal inhabitant, would each find plea- sure in its own existence? To this question different answers cannot surely be given. Let the reader then extend his view, and consider the universe, which, how- ever vast, cannot be positively infinite, as one system as much united as the several parts of this globe; let him suppose that there were at first created as many of the highest order of beings as it could have contained had creation there slept; let him remember that happiness in many different degrees is valuable;—and he will not surely think it any imputation on the goodness of God that there are in the universe many beings far from per- fection. The most imperfect of these are by themselves better than nothing; and they all contribute to make up a system which, considered as a whole, we have every reason to believe to be as perfect as anything not self-existent can possibly be.

2. If the world is conducted by a benevolent provi- dence, how came evil to be introduced into it? This question has perplexed mankind in all ages. The an- cient Persians resolved it, by asserting the existence of two gods, Oromades the author of good, and Arimanius the author of evil. From them the Christian her- etics called Manichaeans borrowed their doctrine of two opposite co-eternal principles. Both the Platonists and Stoics ascribed the origin of evil to the imperfections or imperfection of matter, which they thought the Deity could not alter; and Pythagoras imagined a state of pre-existence, in which the souls of men had committed offences, for which they are here suffering the punish- ment. But these hypotheses are, some of them impious, and all unsatisfactory.

Taking the expression in its most extensive sense, the evils to which the human race are exposed may be re- duced to pain, uneasiness, disappointment of appetites, and death; of which not one could have been wholly pre- vented without occasioning greater evils, inconsistent with the perfect goodness of the Creator. As long as we have solid bodies capable of motion, supported by food, subject to the influence of the atmosphere, and divisible, they must necessarily be liable to dissolution or death: But if a man could suffer death, or have his limbs bro- ken, without feeling pain, the human race had been long ago extinct. A fever is a state of the body in which the fluids are in great disorder. Felt we no uneasiness from that disorder, we should have no inducement to pay the proper attention to our state, and should cer- tainly die unawares, without suspecting ourselves to be in danger; whereas, under the present administration of divine providence, the pain and sickness of the disease compel us to have recourse to the remedies proper for relieving us to soundness and health. Of the unea- sinesses to which we are liable, and which are not the ef- fect of immediate pain, the greatest has been sometimes said to arise from the apprehension of death, which constantly stares us in the face, and frequently embitters all our pleasures even in the hour of perfect health.— But this dread of death is implanted in our breasts for the very best of purposes. Had we no horror at the apprehension of death, we should be apt, whenever any misfortune befell us, to quit this world rashly, and rush unprepared into the presence of our Judge; but the horror which attends our reflections on our own dillo- vation, arising not from any apprehensions of the pain of dying, but from our anxiety concerning our future state of existence, tends strongly to make us act, while we are here, in such a manner as to ensure our happiness here- after. Add to this, that the fear of death is the great- est support of human laws. We every day see persons breaking through all the regulations of society and good life, notwithstanding they know death to be the certain consequence, and feel all the horrors of it that are natural to man; and therefore were death divested of these horrors, how insignificant would capital punish- ments be as guardians of the law, and how insecure would individuals be in civil society?

With regard to the unavoidable misfortunes and an- xieties of our present state, so far from being truly hurt- ful in themselves, they are proofs of divine beneficence. When we see men disheartened with their situation, when we hear them complain of the difficulties, the miseries, and the cares of life, of the hardships which they have undergone, and the labours which still lie before them; instead of accounting them unfortunate, we ought to regard them as active beings, placed in the only situa- tion that is fit for the improvement of their nature. That discontent, these reliefs wishes to improve their condition, are so many sure indications that their facul- ties will not languish. They who are in the least de- gree accustomed to observe the human character, know well the influence which pleasure and repose have in en- feebling every manly principle, and how capable they are of attaching us even to a forlorn and dishonourable existence.

Happy indeed it is for the human race, that the number of those men is small whom providence has placed in situations in which personal activity is unnec- essary. By far the greater number are compelled to exert themselves, to mix and to contend with their equals, in the race of fortune and of honour. It is thus that our powers are called forth, and that our nature reaches its highest perfection. It is even perhaps a general truth, that they who have struggled with the greatest variety of hardships, as they always acquire the highest energy of character, so if they have retained their in- tegrity, and have not sunk entirely in the contest, sel- dom fail to spend their remaining days respectable and happy, superior to passion, and secured from folly by the possession of a wisdom dearly earned.

But the benefits of physical evils have been set in a physical still stronger light by a great matter of moral wisdom, evil the who was himself subject to many of those evils. That cause of man moral good. Providence man is a moral agent, sent into this world to acquire habits of virtue and piety to fit him for a better state, is a truth to which no consentent theft will for a moment refuse his assent. But almost all the moral good which is left among us, is the apparent effect of physical evil.

"Goodness is divided by divines into soberness, righteousness, and godliness. Let it be examined how each of these duties would be practised if there were no physical evil to enforce it.

"Sobriety or temperance is nothing but the forbearance of pleasure; and if pleasure was not followed by pain, who would forbear it? We see every hour those in whom the desire of present indulgence overpowers all sense of past, and all foresight of future misery. In a remission of the gout, the drunkard returns to his wine, and the glutton to his feast; and if neither disease nor poverty were felt or dreaded, every one would sink down in idle sensuality, without any care of others, or of himself. To eat and drink, and lie down to sleep, would be the whole business of mankind.

"Righteousness, or the system of social duty, may be subdivided into justice and charity. Of justice, one of the heathen sages has shown, with great acuteness, that it was impressed upon mankind only by the inconveniences which injustice had produced. 'In the first ages (says he) men acted without any rule but the impulse of desire; they practised injustice upon others, and suffered it from others in their turn; but in time it was discovered, that the pain of suffering wrong was greater than the pleasure of doing it; and mankind, by a general compact, submitted to the restraint of laws, and resigned the pleasure to escape the pain.'

"Of charity, it is superfluous to observe, that it could have no place if there were no want; for of a virtue which could not be practised, the omission could not be culpable. Evil is not only the occasional but the efficient cause of charity; we are incited to the relief of misery by the consciousness that we have the same nature with the sufferer; that we are in danger of the same distresses, and may some time implore the same assistance.

"Godliness or piety is elevation of the mind towards the Supreme Being, and extension of the thoughts of another life. The other life is future, and the Supreme Being is invisible. None would have recourse to an invisible power, but that all other subjects had eluded their hopes. None would fix their attention upon the future, but that they are discontented with the present. If the senses were feasted with perpetual pleasure, they would always keep the mind in subjection. Reason has no authority over us but by its power to warn us against evil.

"In childhood, while our minds are yet unoccupied, religion is impressed upon them; and the first years of almost all who have been well educated are passed in a regular discharge of the duties of piety: But as we advance forward into the crowds of life, innumerable delights solicit our inclinations, and innumerable cares distract our attention. The time of youth is passed in noisy frolics; manhood is led on from hope to hope, and from project to project; the dissoluteness of pleasure, the inebriation of success, the ardour of expectation, and the vehemence of competition, chain down the mind alike to the present scene: nor is it remembered how soon this mist of trifles must be scattered, and the bubbles that float upon the rivulet of life be lost for ever in the gulf of eternity. To this consideration scarce any man is awakened but by some pressing and restless evil; the death of those from whom he derived his pleasures, or to whom he destined his possessions, some disease which shows him the vanity of all external acquisitions, or the gloom of age which intercepts his prospects of long enjoyment, forces him to fix his hopes upon another state; and when he has contended with the tempests of life till his strength fails him, he flies at last to the shelter of religion.

"That misery does not make all virtuous, experience too certainly informs us; but it is no less certain, that of what virtue there is, misery produces far the greater part. Physical evil may be therefore endured with patience, since it is the cause of moral good; and patience itself is one virtue by which we are prepared for that state in which evil shall be no more."

The calamities and the hardships of our present state, then, are so far from being real evils, of which proof from the dence ought to be accused, that in every point of view permission in which we can consider them, they afford the surest proofs of the wisdom of its administration, and of its goodness to man.

The most serious difficulty lies in accounting for the permission of moral evil or guilt, in a system governed by infinite benevolence and wisdom. Those who in a consistent manner hold the doctrine of the absolute necessity of human actions in its full extent, and acknowledge all its consequences, find it easy to elude this difficulty. They very fairly deny the existence of any such thing as moral evil in the abstract; and assert, that what we call a crime, is nothing more than an action which we always regard with a painful sensation: that these apparent evils endure only for a time; and that all will at last terminate in the perfection and happiness of every intelligent being.

Upon the system of liberty, the shortest answer seems answered, to be this: that some things are absolutely impossible, not from any weakness in the Deity, but because they infer absurdity or contradiction. Thus it is impossible for twice two to be anything else than four; and thus it is impossible for Omnipotence itself to confer self-approbation upon an intelligent being who has never deserved it; that is to say, it is impossible for a man of sense to be pleased with himself for having done a certain action, while he himself is conscious that he never did that action. But self-approbation constitutes the highest, the most unmingled, and permanent felicity, of which our nature is capable. It is not in the power of Omnipotence itself, then, to bestow the highest and most permanent felicity of our nature; it must be earned and deserved before it can be obtained. In the same manner good desert, virtue or merit, cannot be conferred; they must be acquired. To enable us to acquire these, we must be exposed to difficulties, and must suffer in a certain degree. If these difficulties had no influence upon our conduct and feelings, if they exposed us to no real danger, no fabric of merit or of self-approbation could be reared upon them. All that the Supreme Being could do for us, was to confer such an original constitution and character as would enable us to do well if we should exert our utmost powers. Providence universe is not ruled by favour, but by justice. Complete felicity must be purchased. Guilt is an abuse of our freedom, doing ill where we could have done well, and is entirely the work of man. Heaven could not avoid permitting its existence, and exposing us to danger; for temptation is necessary to virtue, and virtue is the perfection of our nature, our glory, and our happiness.

The permission of moral evil has been so ably accounted for by Simplicius, a Pagan writer, and therefore not blasted by any partiality to the Jewish or Christian Scriptures, that we cannot deny ourselves the pleasure of laying his reasoning before our readers. He asks, "Whether God may be called the author of sin, because he permits the soul to use her liberty?" and answers the question thus:

"He who says that God should not permit the exercise of its freedom to the soul, must affirm one of these two things; either that the soul, though by nature capable of indifferently choosing good or evil, should yet be constantly prevented from choosing evil; or else that it should have been made of such a nature as to have no power of choosing evil.

"The former assertion (continues he) is irrational and absurd; for what kind of liberty would that be in which there should be no freedom of choice? and what choice could there be, if the mind were constantly restrained to one side of every alternative? With respect to the second assertion, it is to be observed (says he), that no evil is in itself desirable, or can be chosen as evil. But if this power of determining itself either way in any given case must be taken from the soul, it must either be as something not good, or as some great evil. But whoever faith so, does not consider how many things there are which, though accounted good and desirable, are yet never put in competition with this freedom of will: for without it we should be on a level with the brutes; and there is no person who would rather be a brute than a man. If God then shows his goodness in giving to inferior beings such perfections as are far below this, it is incongruous to the divine nature and goodness to give man a self-determining power over his actions, and to permit him the free exercise of that power? Had God, to prevent man's sin, taken away the liberty of his will, he would likewise have destroyed the foundation of all virtue, and the very nature of man; for there could be no virtue were there not a possibility of vice; and man's nature, had it continued rational, would have been divine, because impeccable. Therefore (continues he), though we attribute to God, as its author, this self-determining power, which is so necessary in the order of the universe; we have no reason to attribute to him that evil which comes by the abuse of liberty: For God doth not cause that aversion from good which is in the soul when it sins; he only gave to the soul such a power as might turn itself to evil, out of which he produces much good, which, without such a power, could not have been produced by Omnipotence itself." So consonant to the doctrine of our scriptures is the reasoning of this opponent of the writings of Moses! Fas est et ab hoste doceri.

The last objection to the belief of a divine providence arises from the apparent confusion of human affairs, that all things happen alike to all, that bad men are prosperous, and that a total want of justice appears to attend the divine administrations. Even the best men have at times been shaken by this consideration.—But there are many reasons for rendering this world a mixed scene: it would become unfit for a state of trial and of education to virtue were it otherwise.

It has been shown already, that physical evil is the answer, parent of moral good; and therefore it would be absurd to expect that the virtuous should be entirely exempted from that evil. For the occasional prosperity of the wicked, many reasons have been assigned even by those who, in their dispositions, were not guided by that revelation which has brought to light life and immortality. "God (says Plutarch) spares the wicked, that he may set an example of forbearance, and teach them not to revenge their injuries too hastily on each other. He spares some wicked men from early punishment, in order to make them instruments of his justice in punishing others. And he spares all for a time, that they may have leisure for repentance; for men (says the same excellent moralist) look at nothing further, in the punishments which they inflict, than to satisfy their revenge and malice, and therefore they pursue those who have offended them with the utmost rage and eagerness; whereas God, aiming at the cure of those who are not utterly incurable, gives them ἡλικοῦντας καὶ ἐπιστρέφοντας, "time to be converted."

But this objection receives the best solution from the doctrine of the immortality of the human soul.

"And see!

'Tis come, the glorious morn! the second birth Of heav'n and earth! awakening nature hears The new creating word, and starts to life, In every height'ned form, from pain and death For ever free. The great eternal scheme, Involving all, and in a perfect whole Uniting, as the prospect wider spreads, To reason's eye refin'd clears up space. Ye vainly wise! Ye blind presumptuous! now Confounded in the dust, adore that Pow'r And Wisdom oft arraign'd; see now the cause, Why unassuming worth in secret liv'd And died neglected: why the good man's share In life was gall and bitterness of foul: Why the lone widow and her orphans pin'd In starving solitude; while luxury, In palaces, lay straining her low thought, To form unreal wants: why heav'n-born truth, And moderation fair, wore the red marks Of superstition's scourge; why licenc'd pain, That cruel spoiler, that embolden'd foe, Imbitter'd all our bliss. Ye good diff'rent! Ye noble few! who here unbending stand Beneath life's pressure, yet bear up a while, And what your bounded view, which only saw A little part, deem'd evil, is no more: The storms of wintry time will quickly pass, And one unbounded spring encircle all.

Thomson's Winter.

PROVIDENCE-Plantation, a colony of New-England, which, with Rhode-island, formerly constituted a charter government. Its chief town is Newport.

one of the least of the Bahama islands in the American ocean, but the best of those planted and fortified by the English. It is seated on the east side. Province, side of the gulf of Florida. W. Long. 77° 35' N. Lat. 25°.