it, and difcernment to direct thefe happy propenfions to their proper objects. I must own I am a ftrenuous advocate for its fuccefs; tho' I am no farther interested in it than every good man ought to be: but as wishes are the only affistance I can lend, those I moft fincerely offer.

I am, SIR,

Your very humble fervant,

ΧΡΙΣΤΟΦΙΛΟΣ

LETTER II. in Defence of RELIGION.

The fubject continued from Number IV. p. 133

A Greeably to the foregoing reprefentation of things, (and

who can say that it is not a fair and genuine one?) it is plain, not a single individual could be safe either in person or property from his neighbour; men would fhew themselves to be greater favages than the brute creation, and grow more fierce and outrageously cruel and encroaching for being reasonable. The intellectual powers they are poffefs'd of point out many advantages, which may feveral ways be made of their fellow-creatures; and because felf-love prompts them to every thing connected with private good, hereupon C invariably becomes D's enemy, that is, violently oppofes or fraudulently circumvents him, when it is prefumed fuch force or fraud will operate to his own emolument. And thus would mankind reciprocally put each other into the most deplorable ftate of circumvention and rapine that can be conceived. For as a very learned prelate of our church ju diciously obferves, "The flood-gates to oppreffion, violence, "and every injurious work are opened, as the restraints "upon confcience and motives to duty are taken away."

But were we to suppose A would abftain from hurting B in character, body, or goods, (which, tho' true in theory, would

would be no common effect, fince the preventive principle only acts with steadiness when A could not be a rogue without being detected, which, confidering the various lucky efcapes fecret injuftice has, the fubtle and intriguing spirit it is actuated by, and the engines it usually works with, would but feldom happen) fuppofing, I fay, A and others would intentionally avoid all acts of flagitiousness and villany, yet would B's life (notwithstanding it was thus fecured from external violence) be little or no bleffing to him, but, on the whole, rather matter of aversion than of choice. For as man is a weak dependent creature, it is impoffible that he should live without the good offices of others. This every one knows by a fad and woeful experience. His wants, which are of various kinds and almost infinite in number, and whofe importunity he is neither able to refift nor to fatisfy, compel him to treat and tranfact with others; but no equal and lafting correspondence can commence or be conducted, excepting on a principle of natural juftice, that is, without a sense of religion. And it is farther observable, that man's happiness is not barely the effect of a ftrict adherence to the rule of right, but arifes partly thence, and in part from the kindnefs and benevolence of others; which he is not to expect otherwise than as their intereft is fuppos'd to depend on his and to flow from it. But thofe, one may fafely affirm, would oftener interfere than coincide; fince in promoting another's happiness a man would neglect his own, unless acts of benificence continually reciprocated, which under those circumstances there is no ground to expect. For allowing that A would do B a favour in hopes of exciting him to repay it with another, yet if he expects not any more favours from A, no confideration of what is paft could induce him to make such a return, especially if the doing of it was in the least in confiftent with his future views. Because no one would think himself obliged to prefer another's welfare to his own; or, in other words, gratitude (in the light we have plac'd it above) would be an impracticable, if not an impoffible duty.

Some

Some are of opinion, that man beft purfues his own advantage by directing all his movements and acts to the extenfion and advancement of the great intereft of the whole, because, if this be provided for, the parts which compose it are not overlooked. In anfwer to which it is proper to take notice, that if each particular would be virtuous, and ever do to others as he could wish to be done by in like fituations; then all must be happy, and concord and harmony would in fact prevail over the whole earth. But here lies the cafe; fince men are free agents, they always have it in their power to move as profit, pleasure, or inclination fhall draw them and tho' fome may promote the general as being productive of private happiness, yet the bulk of individuals will act otherwife. And when particular motions are in contrary and oppofite directions; from fuch a collifion of pursuits, what but diforder and embarrass can be thought to refult? And if moral obfervances come once to lead more to mifery than to happiness, and there is nothing in this life or the next to be fet over againft it, in all fuch inftances it cannot be deemed strange, if men desert the cause of vir→ tue and join her adverfary; 'twould be a wonder indeed if they did not. For I prefume, it will never be afferted, that pure abfolute pain can at any time be more eligible to a human being than pleasure.

This little which has been faid is enough to fhew what would be the miferable and distracted ftate of mankind, void of all sense of a fuperiour Being inviting them to virtue, and difcouraging them from vice, by rewards and punishments to be impartially dispensed in some period or other of man's du-ration. It is the not living in the belief of a divine, superintendency, that has been the cause of the mischief which has triumphed in the world.

To the STUDENT.

Mr. STUDENT,

A

S you feem to be an understanding man in the world,

I fhould be glad of your advice. 'Tis concerning a difference, which has for fome time fubfifted between my brother Tom and me. I am, you must know, the younger, and on that account had little learning given me, and was put to a trade in London; but Tom was bred among you at college, and there supported in great dignity by my father, whofe fondness, poor man! would often induce him to call him the 'fquire, and the young lord of the manour, expresfions not fo agreeable to me, you may imagine. I'm fure, I have often wished, that I had been in bed with an ague when he was born; for no-body can bear to be flighted, Mr. STUDENT. My father indeed, when I came home at holidayțime, would often stroke me down the head with a seeming affection and fay, poor Will! Will's a good boy, and may make an honeft tradefman; but whenever my brother came in view, no more notice was taken of me. No, he was the object in which all their hopes were centered. This was enough to drive a man of spirit beyond all bounds. However I pursued my business, and have among my neighbours preferved a gcod character (which you know is a good step towards a fortune) and fo advanc'd my credit, that my word at any time will pafs for double the worth of my capital, which is but flender.

Brother Tom about the middle of my apprenticeship left college, where he had learnt Latin, and Greek, and Logick, and fuch fort of things, (but knew nothing of the world) and came up to London. Here he confidered himself as one of the most confiderable: you'll excufe my homely wit, Mr. STUDENT, for I am but a tradefman. In short, he improved from drinking to gaming, and from gaming to

whoring

whoring to that degree, that in lefs than a month he was obliged to call for the affistance of a furgeon. He had spentTM a hundred guineas, which my father gave him to come to town with, and was taken into cuftody for five hundred more, on his note of hand given under the Piazza in Covent-` Garden, from whence I received the following letter.

Dear Bill,

"Coming to town t'other day to fee you, I fell in with a parcel of villanous fharpers, who brought me to Covent"Garden, and there plunder'd my pockets, and us'd me every way too ill to be describ'd in a letter. For heaven's "fake, come to me as foon as poffible, for I fhall be on the "rack till I fee you. Yours affectionately,

66

As I never wanted affection for my brother, you may fuppose that I foon run to his affiftance. But low was I furpriz'd and mortify'd! when the messenger led me up a narrow dirty alley, to an ill-looking houfe, and then up two pair of dark stairs, into a filthy stinking room, barricaded with iron bars, and without glafs to the windows, where fat poor Tom without meat or drink or any of those things that are neceffary for the fupport of life. No fooner was I enter'd, but in bolted two unchristian-looking fellows: D—n ye, fays one, what d'ye call for? people don't keep fuch houses upon the air. I call for, honest friend, faid I,———I call for—and hefitated, for my heart was ready to break; and before I could express my meaning, Zounds, fays the other, turn him out, and take the prisoner to jail, we have no business to keep him here, as I know of. I took the hint immediately, and in crder to fatisfy their voracious appetites, call'd for a five fhilling bowl of punch, which they brought up in a small flop-bafon.

Z 2

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