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Colloquies, Quevedo's Visions, and the works of
Josephus. Sir Roger was so anxious to accommo-
date his style to the taste of the common people, that
few of his works could now be read with any plea-
sure. The class whom he addressed were only begin-
ning to be readers, and as yet relished nothing but
the meanest ideas, presented in the meanest language.
What immediately follows is a chapter of his life of
Æsop, prefixed to the translation of the Fables.

Esop's Invention to bring his Mistress back again to her
Husband after she had left him.

be gone.

lowing of execrations and revenge against the accursed bloody papists. It was imputed at first, and in the general, to the principles of the religion; and a Roman Catholic and a regicide were made one and the same thing. Nay, it was a saying frequent in some of our great and holy mouths, that they were confident there was not so much as one soul of the whole party, within his majesty's dominions, that was not either an actor in this plot, or a friend to't. In this heat, they fell to picking up of priests and Jesuits as fast as they could catch 'em, and so went on to consult their oracles the witnesses (with all formalities of sifting and examining) upon the particulars of place, time, manner, persons, The wife of Xanthus was well born and wealthy, &c.; while Westminster Hall and the Court of Rebut so proud and domineering withal, as if her for- quests were kept warm, and ringing still of new men tune and her extraction had entitled her to the come in, corroborating proofs, and further discoveries, breeches. She was horribly bold, meddling and ex- &c. Under this train and method of reasoning, the pensive (as that sort of women commonly are), easily managers advanced, decently enough, to the finding put off the hooks, and monstrous hard to be pleased out of what they themselves had laid and concerted again; perpetually chattering at her husband, and beforehand; and, to give the devil his due, the whole upon all occasions of controversy threatening him to story was but a farce of so many parts, and the noisy It came to this at last, that Xanthus's informations no more than a lesson that they had much stock of patience being quite spent, he took up a ado to go through with, even with the help of diligent resolution of going another way to work with her, and careful tutors, and of many and many a prompter, and of trying a course of severity, since there was to bring them off at a dead lift. But popery was so nothing to be done with her by kindness. But this dreadful a thing, and the danger of the king's life and experiment, instead of mending the matter, made it of the Protestant religion so astonishing a surprise, worse; for, upon harder usage, the woman grew des- that people were almost bound in duty to be inconsiperate, and went away from him in earnest. She derate and outrageous upon 't; and loyalty itself was as bad, 'tis true, as bad might well be, and yet would have looked a little cold and indifferent if it Xanthus had a kind of hankering for her still; beside had not been intemperate; insomuch that zeal, fiercethat, there was matter of interest in the case; and a ness, and jealousy were never more excusable than pestilent tongue she had, that the poor husband upon this occasion. And now, having excellent matter dreaded above all things under the sun. But the to work upon, and the passions of the people already man was willing, however, to make the best of a bad disposed for violence and tumult, there needed no game, and so his wits and his friends were set at more than blowing the coal of Oates's narrative, to work, in the fairest manner that might be, to get her put all into a flame: and in the mean time, all arts home again. But there was no good to be done in it, and accidents were improved, as well toward the enit seems; and Xanthus was so visibly out of humour tertainment of the humour, as to the kindling of it. upon it, that sop in pure pity bethought himself The people were first haired out of their senses with immediately how to comfort him. Come, master,' tales and jelousies, and then made judges of the says he, pluck up a good heart, for I have a project danger, and consequently of the remedy; which upon in my noddle, that shall bring my mistress to you the main, and briefly, came to no more than this: The back again, with as good a will as ever she went from plot was laid all over the three kingdoms; France, you.' What does my Esop, but away immediately Spain, and Portugal, taxed their quotas to't; we were to the market among the butchers, poulterers, fish- all to be burnt in our beds, and rise with our throats mongers, confectioners, &c., for the best of everything cut; and no way in the world but exclusion* and that was in season. Nay, he takes private people in union to help us. The fancy of this exclusion spread his way too, and chops into the very house of his mis-immediately, like a gangrene, over the whole body of tress's relations, as by mistake. This way of proceeding set the whole town agog to know the meaning of all this bustle; and Esop innocently told everybody that his master's wife was run away from him, and he had married another; his friends up and down were all invited to come and make merry with him, and this was to be the wedding feast. The news flew like lightning, and happy were they that could carry the first tidings of it to the run-away lady (for everybody knew Æsop to be a servant in that family). It gathered in the rolling, as all other stories do in the telling, especially where women's tongues and passions have the spreading of them. The wife, that was in her nature violent and unsteady, ordered her chariot to be made ready immediately, and away she posts back to her husband, falls upon him with outrages of looks and language; and after the easing of her mind a little, 'No, Xanthus,' says she, do not you flatter yourself with the hopes of enjoying another woman while I am alive.' Xanthus looked upon this as one of Esop's masterpieces; and for that bout all was well again betwixt master and mistress.

[The Popish Plot.]

At the first opening of this plot, almost all people's hearts took fire at it, and nothing was heard but the bel

the monarchy; and no saving the life of his majesty without cutting off every limb of the prerogative: the device of union passed insensibly into a league of conspiracy; and, instead of uniting protestants against papists, concluded in an association of subjects against their sovereign, confounding policy with religion.

*

I shall now pass some necessary reflections upon the whole. There never was, perhaps, since the creation of the world, so much confusion wrought by so mean, so scandalous, so ridiculous instruments; lousy, greasy rogues, to be taken into the hands of princes; porters, and the coarsest of letter-carriers, to be made the confidants of public ministers; starving indigent varlets, that had not credit in the world for a Brumigen groat, and lived upon the common charity of the basket, to be a matter of seven hundred pound out of pocket in his majesty's service, as Oates and Bedloe pretended; sots, to find treason in words, at length in common post-letters. The four ruffians to have but twenty pound a man for murdering the king by assault, and Sir George Wakeman fifteen thousand pound only for poisoning him, without running the fifteenth part of the risk; nay, and Bedloe fifteen hundred pound for

* The exclusion of the heir-presumptive, the Duke of York, who was a Catholic, from the throne.-Ed.

DR RALPH CUDWORTH.

but lending a hand to the helping away of a dead justice: these, and a thousand incredibilities more, must be all believed, or the witnesses found to be most damnably forsworn, unless it were for the evidence's sake that they had credit given 'em; for the matter of fact, under such circumstances, was morally impossible to be true; and for the probity of the witnesses, they were already as well known as the whipping-post, for a pack of swearing, lying, cheating, a prostitute and an abandoned sort of mercenary villains and yet such was the infatuated credulity of the common people at that season, and such the bold and shameless hypocrisy of the managers of that _im-tablishment of the following three propositions, which posture, that there was no place for either truth or honesty to appear. The inference I draw from this preposterous way of proceeding is, that the whole story, from end to end, was a practice; that the suborners of the perjury were also the protectors and the patrons of it both under one; and that they had their accomplices in the House of Commons upon this crisis of state, that played the same game which their forefathers had done upwards of forty years before.

There is more good taste in the style of Sir Roger L'Estrange's translations of ancient authors than in that of his original works. The following is a brief

extract from his version of 'Seneca's Morals :'

6

[Ingratitude.]

The principal causes of ingratitude are pride and self-conceit, avarice, envy, &c. It is a familiar exclamation, "Tis true, he did this or that for me, but it came so late, and it was so little, I had e'en as good have been without it: If he had not given it to me, he must have given it to somebody else; it was nothing out of his own pocket.' Nay, we are so ungrateful, that he that gives us all we have, if he leaves anything to himself, we reckon that he does us an injury. It cost Julius Cæsar his life the disappointment of his unsatiable companions; and yet he reserved nothing of all that he got to himself, but the liberty of disposing it. There is no benefit so large, but malignity will still lessen it: none so narrow, which a good interpretation will not enlarge. No man shall ever be grateful that views a benefit on the wrong side, or takes a good office by the wrong handle. The avaricious man is naturally ungrateful, for he never thinks he has enough, but without considering what he has, only minds what he covets. Some pretend want of power to make a competent return, and you shall find in others a kind of graceless modesty, that makes a man ashamed of requiting an obligation, because

'tis a confession that he has received one.

Not to return one good office for another is inhuman; but to return evil for good is diabolical. There are too many even of this sort, who, the more they owe, the more they hate. There's nothing more dangerous than to oblige those people; for when they are conscious of not paying the debt, they wish the creditor out of the way. It is a mortal hatred that which arises

from the shame of an abused benefit. When we are

on the asking side, what a deal of cringing there is, and profession. Well, I shall never forget this favour, it will be an eternal obligation to me.' But, within a while the note is changed, and we hear no more words on't, till by little and little it is all quite forgotten. So long as we stand in need of a benefit, there is nothing dearer to us; nor anything cheaper when we have received it. And yet a man may as well refuse to deliver up a sum of money that's left him in trust, without a suit, as not to return a good office without asking; and when we have no value any further for the benefit, we do commonly care as little for the author. People follow their interest; one man is grateful for his convenience, and another man is ungrateful for the same reason.

DR RALPH CUDWORTH (1617-1688) is celebrated as a very learned divine and philosopher of this age. He studied at the university of Cambridge, where, during the thirty years succeeding 1645, he held the office of regius professor of Hebrew. His principal work, which is entitled The True Intellectual System of the Universe, was published in 1678, and is designed as a refutation of the atheistical tenets which at that time were extensively held in England. It executes only a portion of his design; namely, the eshe regarded as the fundamentals or essentials of true religion: First, that all things in the world do not float without a head and governor; but that there is a God, an omnipotent understanding being, presiding over all. Secondly, that this God being essentially good and just, there is something in its own nature immutably and eternally just and unjust; and not by arbitrary will, law, and command only. And lastly, that we are so far forth principals or masters of our own actions, as to be accountable to justice for them, or to make us guilty and blame-worthy for what we do amiss, and to deserve punishment accordingly. From this statement by Cudworth in his preface, the reader will observe that he maintained (in opposition to two of the leading doctrines of Hobbes), first, the existence of a natural and everlasting distinction between justice and injustice; and secondly, the freedom of the human will. On the former point he differs from most subsequent opponents of Hobbism, in ascribing our consciousness of the natural difference of right and wrong entirely to the reasoning faculties, and in no degree to sentiment or emotion. As, however, he confines his attention in the Intellectual System' to the first essential of true religion enumerated in the passage just quoted, ethical questions are in that work but incidentally and occasionally touched upon. combating the atheists, he displays a prodigious amount of erudition, and that rare degree of candour which prompts a controversialist to give a full statement of the opinions and arguments which he the reproach of insincerity; and by a contempo means to refute. This fairness brought upon him Socinian, Deist, and even Atheist, were freely aprary Protestant theologian the epithets of Arian, plied to him. He has raised,' says Dryden, such strong objections against the being of a God and Providence, that many think he has not answered them; the common fate,' as Lord Shaftesbury remarks on this occasion, of those who dare to appear fair authors.' This clamour seems to have dislishing the other portions of his scheme. He left, heartened the philosopher, who refrained from pubhowever, several manuscript works, one of which, entitled A Treatise concerning Eternal and Immutable Morality, but only introductory in its character, was published in 1731 by Dr Chandler, bishop of Durham. His unprinted writings are now in the British Museum, and include treatises on Moral Good and Evil, Liberty and Necessity, the Creation of the World and the Immortality of the Soul, the Learning of the Hebrews, and Hobbes's Notions concerning the Nature of God and the Extension of Spirits. Mr Dugald Stewart, speaking of the two published works, observes, that The Intellectual System of Cudworth embraces a field much wider than his treatise of Immutable Morality. particularly directed against the doctrines of Hobbes, and of the Antinomians;* but the former aspires to

In

The latter is

*The Antinomians were a sect of Presbyterians which sprang up during the confusion of the civil war in England. Their designation is a Greek compound, signifying enemies of

tear up by the roots all the principles, both physical and metaphysical, of the Epicurean philosophy. It is a work, certainly, which reflects much honour on the talents of the author, and still more on the boundless extent of his learning; but it is so ill suited to the taste of the present age, that, since the time of Mr Harris and Dr Price, I scarcely recollect the slightest reference to it in the writings of our British metaphysicians. Of its faults (beside the general disposition of the author to discuss questions placed altogether beyond the reach of our faculties), the most prominent is the wild hypothesis of a plastic nature; or, in other words, "of a vital and spiritual, but unintelligent and necessary agent, created by the Deity for the execution of his purposes." Notwithstanding, however, these and many other abatements of its merits, the "Intellectual System" will for ever remain a precious mine of information to those whose curiosity may lead them to study the spirit of the ancient theories."* A Latin translation of this work was published by Mosheim at Jena in 1733. A few specimens of the original are subjoined :

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have not a perfectly comprehensive knowledge, or such as is adequate and commensurate to the essences of things; from whence we ought to be led to this acknowledgment, that there is another Perfect Mind or Understanding Being above us in the universe, from which our imperfect minds were derived, and upon which they do depend. Wherefore, if we can have no idea or conception of anything, whereof we have not a full and perfect comprehension, then can we not have an idea or conception of the nature of any substance. But though we do not comprehend all truth, as if our mind were above it, or master of it, and cannot penetrate into, and look quite through the nature of everything, yet may rational souls frame certain ideas and conceptions, of whatsoever is in the orb of being proportionate to their own nature, and sufficient for their purpose. And though we cannot fully comprehend the Deity, nor exhaust the infiniteness of its perfection, yet may we have an idea of a Being absolutely perfect; such a one as is nostro modulo conformis, agreeable and proportionate to our measure and scantling; as we may approach near to a mountain, and touch it with our hands, though we cannot encompass it all round, and enclasp it within our arms. Whatsoever is in its own nature absolutely unconceivable, is nothing; but not whatsoever is not fully compre

[God, though Incomprehensible, not Inconceivable.] It doth not at all follow, because God is incomprehensible by our imperfect understandings. hensible to our finite and narrow understandings, that It is true, indeed, that the Deity is more incomhe is utterly inconceivable by them, so that they can- prehensible to us than anything else whatsoever, which not frame any idea of him at all, and he may there- proceeds from the fulness of its being and perfection, fore be concluded to be a non-entity. For it is certain and from the transcendency of its brightness; but for that we cannot comprehend ourselves, and that we the very same reason may it be said also in some sense, have not such an adequate and comprehensive know- that it is more knowable and conceivable than anyledge of the essence of any substantial thing as that thing. As the sun, though by reason of its excessive we can perfectly master and conquer it. It was a splendour it dazzle our weak sight, yet is it, notwithtruth, though abused by the sceptics, akatalepton ti, standing, far more visible also than any of the nebusomething incomprehensible in the essence of the lowest losa stella-the small misty stars. Where there is substances. For even body itself, which the atheists more of light there is more visibility; so, where there think themselves so well acquainted with, because is more of entity, reality, and perfection, there is more they can feel it with their fingers, and which is the of conceptibility and cognoscibility; such a thing only substance that they acknowledge either in them-filling up the mind more, and acting more strongly selves or in the universe, hath such puzzling difficulties and entanglements in the speculation of it, that they can never be able to extricate themselves from. We might instance, also, in some accidental things, as time and motion. Truth is bigger than our minds, and we are not the same with it, but have a lower participation only of the intellectual nature, and are rather apprehenders than comprehenders thereof. This is indeed one badge of our creaturely state, that we

the law,' it being their opinion that exhortations to morality

were unnecessary, at once to the elect, whom the divine grace would of itself lead to the practice of piety and virtue, and to the non-elect, whose salvation and virtuous conduct were, by the very circumstance of non-election, rendered impossible.

Some of the Antinomian doctors carried their views so far as

to maintain, that as the elect cannot fall from grace, nor forfeit the divine favour, so it follows that the wicked actions they commit, and the violations of the divine law with which they are chargeable, are not really sinful, nor are to be considered as instances of their departing from the law of God; and that, consequently, they have no occasion either to confess their sins or to break them off by repentance.' Baxter and Tillotson were among the distinguished opponents of the tenets of this sect.--(See Mosheim's Ecclesiastical History, cent. xvii. chap ii. sect. 23.) Cudworth, in his Treatise concerning

Eternal and Immutable Morality,' classes with the atheists of antiquity some of his contemporaries, who thought that God

may command what is contrary to moral rules; that he has no inclination to the good of his creatures; that he may justly doom an innocent being to eternal torments; and that whatever God does will, for that reason is just, because he wills it.' He does not mention, however, by what sect these views were

held.

*First Preliminary Dissertation to Encyclopædia Britannica, 7th edition, p. 44.

upon it. Nevertheless, because our weak and imperfect minds are lost in the vast immensity and redundancy of the Deity, and overcome with its transcendent light and dazzling brightness, therefore hath it to us an appearance of darkness and incomprehensibility; as the unbounded expansion of light, in the clear transparent ether, hath to us the apparition of an azure obscurity; which yet is not an absolute thing in itself, but only relative to our sense, and a mere fancy in us.

being an argument against the reality of its existence, The incomprehensibility of the Deity is so far from as that it is most certain, on the contrary, that were there nothing incomprehensible to us, who are but contemptible pieces, and small atoms of the universe; were there no other being in the world but what our finite understandings could span or fathom, and encompass round about, look through and through, have a commanding view of, and perfectly conquer and subdue under them, then could there be nothing absolutely and infinitely perfect, that is, no God.

And nature itself plainly intimates to us that there is some such absolutely perfect Being, which, though not inconceivable, yet is incomprehensible to our finite understandings, by certain passions, which it hath implanted in us, that otherwise would want an object to display themselves upon; namely, those of devout veneration, adoration, and admiration, together with a kind of ecstacy and pleasing horror; which, in the silent language of nature, seem to speak thus much to us, that there is some object in the world so much bigger and vaster than our mind and thoughts, that it is the very same to them that the ocean is to narrow vessels; so that, when they have taken into themselves as much as they can thereof by contemplation,

and filled up all their capacity, there is still an immensity of it left without, which cannot enter in for want of room to receive it, and therefore must be apprehended after some other strange and more mysterious manner, namely, by their being plunged into it, and swallowed up or lost in it. To conclude, the Deity is indeed incomprehensible to our finite and imperfect understandings, but not inconceivable; and therefore there is no ground at all for this atheistic pretence to make it a non-entity.

[Difficulty of Convincing Interested Unbelievers.]

As for the last chapter, though it promise only a confutation of all the Atheistic grounds, yet we do therein also demonstrate the absolute impossibility of all Atheism, and the actual existence of a God. We say demonstrate, not a priori, which is impossible and contradictious, but, by necessary inference, from principles altogether undeniable. For we can by no means grant to the Atheists that there is more than a probable persuasion or opinion to be had of the existence of a God, without any certain knowledge or science. Nevertheless, it will not follow from hence that whosoever shall read these demonstrations of ours, and understand all the words of them, must therefore of necessity be presently convinced, whether he will or no, and put out of all manner of doubt and hesitancy concerning the existence of a God. For we believe that to be true which some have affirmed, that were there any interest of life, any concernment of appetite and passion, against the truth of geometrical theorems themselves, as of a triangle having three angles equal to two right, whereby men's judgments may be clouded and bribed, notwithstanding all the demonstrations of them, many would remain at least sceptical about them.

[Creation.]

Because it is undeniably certain, concerning ourselves, and all imperfect beings, that none of these can create any new substance, men are apt to measure all things by their own scantling, and to suppose it universally impossible for any power whatever thus to create. But since it is certain that imperfect beings can themselves produce some things out of nothing pre-existing, as new cogitations, new local motion, and new modifications of things corporeal, it is surely reasonable to think that an absolutely perfect Being can do something more, that is, create new substances, or give them their whole being. And it may well be thought as easy for God, or an Omnipotent Being, to make a whole world, matter and all, as it is for us to create a thought or to move a finger, or for the sun to send out rays, or a candle light; or, lastly, for an opaque body to produce an image of itself in a glass or water, or to project a shadow; all these imperfect things being but the energies, rays, images, or shadows of the Deity. For a substance to be made out of nothing by God, or a Being infinitely perfect, is not for it to be made out of nothing in the impossible sense, because it comes from Him who is all. Nor can it be said to be impossible for anything whatever to be made by that which hath not only infinitely greater perfection, but also infinite active power. It is indeed true, that infinite power itself cannot do things in their own nature impossible; and, therefore, those who deny creation, ought to prove, that it is absolutely impossible for a substance, though not for an accident or modification, to be brought from non-existence into being. But nothing is in itself impossible which does not imply contradiction; and though it be a contradiction to be and not to be at the same time, there is surely no contradiction in conceiving an imperfect being, which before was not, afterwards to be.

DR RICHARD CUMBERLAND.

DR RICHARD CUMBERLAND (1632-1718), another learned and amiable divine of the church of England, was raised by King William to the see of Peterborough in 1688. He had previously published, in 1672, a Latin work, De Legibus Nature Disquisitio Philosophica, &c.; or, A Philosophical Inquiry into the Laws of Nature; in which their form, order, promulgation, and obligation, are investigated from the nature of things; and in which, also, the philosophical principles of Hobbes, moral as well as civil, are considered and refuted.' This modest and erudite, but verbose production (of which two English translations have appeared), contains many sound and at that time novel views on moral science, along with others of very doubtful soundness. The laws of nature he deduces from the results of human conduct, regarding that to be commanded by God which conduces to the happiness of man. He wrote also a learned Essay towards the Recovery of the Jewish Weights and Measures, comprehending their Monies, and a translation of Sanchoniatho's Phoenician History. In the performance of his episcopal duties he displayed a rare degree of activity, moderation, and benevolence. When expostulated with by his friends on account of the great labour which he underwent, he replied, I will do my duty as long as I can; a man had better wear out than rust out.' He lived, however, to the advanced age of eighty-six, in the enjoyment of such mental vigour, that he successfully studied the Coptic language only three years before his death.

[The Tabernacle and Temple of the Jews.]

The fit measures of the tabernacle and temple, to the uses of the whole nation of the Jews, demonstrate God's early care to settle his people Israel, in the form of one entire national church, under Moses, Aaron, and the other priests, who were general officers for all Israel. The church in the wilderness, mentioned by Saint Stephen (Acts vii. 38), was thus national, and is the first collective body of men called a church in the Scripture language, by a man full of the evangelical spirit.

Synagogues for particular neighbourhoods' convenience, in the public exercise of religion, were introduced long after, by the pious prudence of the national governors of the Jewish church and state, and accordingly were all subordinate to them. It is to be observed, also, that this limited place for public national worship was within their own nation, in the midst of their camp in the wilderness, in their own land in Canaan. No recourse from it to a foreign church by appeals, but all differences finally decided within their own nation, and therein all, even Aaron, although the high priest, and elder brother to Moses, yet was subject to Moses, who was king in Jesurun. By these means all schismatical setting up of one altar against another was prevented; national communion in solemn and decent piety, with perfect charity, was promoted; which being no shadows, but the most substantial concerns of religion, are to be preserved in the gospel times.

Hereby is more evidently proved the magnificence, symmetry, and beauty that was in the structure of the temple; and the liberal maintenance which God provided for the Levites his ministers. For if the cubit by me proposed determine the area both of the temple and of the priests' suburbs (as the Scripture sets them both out by cubits), they must be much longer; and if they were set out by so many shorter cubits (suppose cubits of 18 inches), in such proportion as the squares of these different cubits bear to each other, by the 19th and 20th proposition of

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