nimself has left some points; let her dismiss now remains, by way of summing up the evimany of her Articles, and convert those which dence, to bring "forward" certain other ar.. she retains into terms of peace; let her recall guments contained in the Considerations, to the terrors she suspended over freedom of in-which no answer has been attempted. It is quiry; let the toleration she allows to dissen-contended, then, ters be made "absolute;" let her invite men to search the Scriptures; let her governors I. encourage the studious and learned of all persuasions:-Let her do this-and she will be secure of the thanks of her own clergy, and, what is more, of their sincerity. A greater consent may grow out of inquiry than many at present are aware of; and the few, who, after all, shall think it necessary to recede from our communion, will acknowledge the necessity to be inevitable; will respect the equity and moderation of the established church, and live in peace with all its members.

I know not whether I ought to mention, among so many more serious reasons, that even the governors of the church themselves

would find their ease and account in consenting to an alteration. For besides the difficulty of defending those decayed fortifications, and the indecency of deserting them, they either are or will soon find themselves in the situation of a master of a family, whose servants know more of his secrets than it is proper for them to know, and whose whispers and whose threats must be bought off at an expense which will drain the "apostolic chamber" dry.

Having thus examined in their order, and, as far as I understood them, the several answers given by our author to the objections against the present mode of subscription, it

abstruse points, this they may be certain of, that in the present state of the church, even supposing only such as are accounted orthodox to be joined together in one visible communion, they communicate together with a very great variety and confusion of notions, either comprehending nothing plain and distinct, or differing from one another as truly and as essentially as others differ from them all; nay, with more certain difference with relation to the object of worship than if all prayers were directed (as bishop Bull says, almost all were in the first ages) to God or the Father, through the Son.-Hoadly's Answer to Dr. Hare's Sermon.

II.

That stating any doctrine in a confession of faith with a greater degree of "precision" than the Scriptures have done, is in effect to say, that the Scriptures have not stated it with "precision" enough; in other words, that the Scriptures are not sufficient." Mere declamation."

That this experiment of leaving men at liberty, and points of doctrine at large, has been attended with the improvements of religious knowledge, where and whenever it has been tried. And to this cause, so far as we can see, is owing the advantage which protestant countries in this respect possess above their popish neighbours.-No answer. III. That keeping people out of churches who might be admitted consistently with every end of public worship, and excluding men from communion who desire to embrace it upon the terms that God prescribes, is certainly not encouraging, but rather causing men to forsake, the assembling of themselves together.-No answer.

IV. That men are deterred from searching the Scriptures by the fear of finding there more or less than they look for; that is, something inconsistent with what they have already given their assent to, and must at their peril abide by.-No answer.

V.

That it is not giving truth a fair chance, to decide points at one certain time, and by one set of men, which had much better be left to the successive inquiries of different ages and different persons.-No answer. VI. That it tends to multiply infidels amongst us, by exhibiting Christianity under a form and in a system which many are disgusted with, who yet will not be at the pains to inquire after any other.-No answer.

At the conclusion of his pamphlet, our au

In his last note our author breaks forth into "astonish-thor is pleased to acknowledge, what few, I ment" and indignation, at the " folly, injustice, and in- find, care any longer to deny," that there decency" of comparing our church to the Jewish in our

Saviour's time, and even to the "tower of Babel;" mis- are some things in our Articles and Liturgy taking the church, in this last comparison, for one of her which he should be glad to see amended, monuments (which indeed, with most people of his com

pursued, preclude all hope of accommodation and tranquillity-that "we had better wait, therefore, for more peaceable times, and be contented with our present constitution as it is," until a fairer prospect shall appear of

plexion, stands for the same thing) erected to prevent many which he should be willing to give up our dispersion from that grand centre of catholic domi. to the scruples of others," but that the heat mon, or, in the words of a late celebrated castle-builder, and violence with which redress has been "to keep us together." If there be any " indecency" in such a comparison, it must be chargeable on those who lead us to it, by making use of the same terms with the original architects, and to which the author of the Considerations evidently alludes. This detached note is concluded with as detached, and no less curious, an observation, which the writer thinks may be a "sufficient auswer" to the whole, namely, that the author of the Considerations" has wrought no miracles for the conviction changing it for the better. After returning of the answerer and his associates." For what purpose thanks, in the name of the "fraternity," this observation can be "sufficient," it is not easy to to him and to all who touch the burden of guess, except it be designed to insinuate, what may perhaps really be the case, that no less than a miracle will subscription with but one of their fingers, ! serve to cast out that kind of spirit which has taken so would wish to leave with them this observa full possession of them, or ever bring them to a sound mind, and a sincere love of truth.

tion That as the man who attacks a flourish- till the cool, the calm, the discreet part of ing establishment writes with a halter round his neck, few ever will be found to attempt alterations but men of more spirit than prudence, of more sincerity than caution, of warm, eager, and impetuous tempers; that, consequently, if we are to wait for improvement

mankind begin it, till church governors solicit, or ministers of state propose it-I will venture to pronounce, that (without His in terposition with whom nothing is impossible) we may remain as we are till the "renovation of all things."

REASONS FOR CONTENTMENT,

ADDRESSED TO TEE

LABOURING PART OF THE BRITISH PUBLIC

man.

mur, when we see exorbitant fortunes placed | this. They, if any such there be, who would in the hands of single persons; larger, we are teach you to expect more, give you no instance sure, than they can want, or, as we think, where more has ever been attained. than they can use. This is so common a re- But Providence, which foresaw, which apflection, that I will not say it is not natural. pointed, indeed, the necessity to which huBut whenever the complaint comes into our man affairs are subjected (and against which minds, we ought to recollect, that the thing it were impious to complain), hath contrived, happens in consequence of those very rules that, whilst fortunes are only for a few, the and laws which secure to ourselves our pro-rest of mankind may be happy without them. verty, be it ever so small. The laws which And this leads me to consider the comparative accidentally cast enormous estates into one advantages and comforts which belong to the great man's possession, are, after all, the self-condition of those who subsist, as the great same laws which protect and guard the poor mass of every people do and must subsist, by Fixed rules of property are establish- personal labour, and the solid reasons they ed for one as well as another, without know-have for contentment in their stations. I do ing, before-hand, whom they may affect. If not now use the terms poor and rich: because these rules sometimes throw an excessive or that man is to be accounted poor, of whatever disproportionate share to one man's lot, who rank he be, and suffers the pains of poverty, can help it? It is much better that it should whose expenses exceed his resources; and no be So, than that the rules themselves should man is, properly speaking, poor but he. But be broken up; and you can only have one I, at present, consider the advantages of those side of the alternative or the other. To abo- laborious conditions of life which compose lish riches, would not be to abolish poverty; the great portion of every human commubut, on the contrary, to leave it without pro- nity. tection or resource. It is not for the poor man to repine at the effects of laws and rules, by which he himself is benefited every hour of his existence; which secure to him his earnings, his habitation, his bread, his life; without which he, no more than the rich man, could either eat his meal in quietness, or go to bed in safety. Of the two, it is rather more the concern of the poor to stand up for the laws, than of the rich; for it is the law which defends the weak against the strong, the humble against the powerful, the little against the great; and weak and strong, humble and powerful, little and great, there would be, even were there no laws whatever. Beside, what, after all, is the mischief? The owner of a great estate does not eat or drink more than the owner of a small one. His fields do not produce worse crops, nor does the produce maintain fewer mouths. If estates were more equally divided, would greater numbers be fed, or clothed, or employed? Either, therefore, large fortunes are not a public evil, or, if they be in any degree an evil, it is to be borne with, for the sake of those fixed and general rules concerning property, in the preservation and steadiness of which all are interested.

Fortunes, however, of any kind, from the nature of the thing, can only fall to the lot of a few. I say, from the nature of the thing." The very utmost that can be done by laws and government, is to enable every man, who hath health, to procure a healthy subsistence for himself and a family. Where this is the case, things are at their perfection. They have reached their limit. Were the princes and nobility, the legislators and counsellors of the land, all of them the best and wisest men that ever lived, their united virtue and wisdom could do no more than

And, first; it is an inestimable blessing of such situations, that they supply a constant train of employment both to body and mind. A husbandman, or a manufacturer, or a tradesman, never goes to bed at night without having his business to rise up to in the morning. He would understand the value of this advantage, did he know that the want of it composes one of the greatest plagues of the human soul; a plague by which the rich, especially those who inherit riches, are exceedingly oppressed. Indeed it is to get rid of it, that is to say, it is to have something to do, that they are driven upon those strange and unaccountable ways of passing their time, in which we sometimes see them, to our surprise, engaged. A poor man's condition supplies him with that which no man can do without, and with which a rich man, with all his opportunities, and all his contrivance, can hardly supply himself; regular engagement, business to look forward to, something to be done for every day, some employment prepared for every morning. A few of better judgment can seek out for themselves constant and useful occupation. There is not one of you takes the pains in his calling, which some of the most independent men in the nation have taken, and are taking, to promote what they deem to be a point of great concern to the interests of humanity, by which neither they nor theirs can ever gain a shilling, and in which should they succeed, those who are to be benefited by their service, will neither know nor thank them for it. I only mention this to show, in conjunction with what has been observed above, that, of those who are at liberty to act as they please, the wise prove, and the foolish confess, by their conduct, that a life of employment is the only life worth leading; and that the chief difference between their manner of passing their

time and yours, is, that they can choose the stations; because in what we reckon superiot objects of their activity, which you cannot. ranks of life, there is a real difficulty in plac This privilege may be an advantage to some, ing children in situations which may in any but for nine out of ten it is fortunate that oc- degree support them in the class and in the cupation is provided to their hands, that they habits in which they have been brought up by nave it not to seek, that it is imposed upon their parents: from which great and oftenthem by their necessities and occasions; for times distressing perplexity the poor are free. the consequence of liberty in this respect would With health of body, innocence of mind, and be, that, lost in the perplexity of choosing, habits of industry, a poor man's child has nothey would sink into irrecoverable indolence, thing to be afraid of, nor his father or mother inaction, and unconcern; into that vacancy any thing to be afraid of for him. and tiresomeness of time and thought which The labour of the world is carried on by are inseparable from such a situation. A man's service, that is, by one man working under thoughts must be going. Whilst he is awake, another man's direction. I take it for granted the working of his mind is as constant as the that this is the best way of conducting busibeating of his pulse, He can no more stop the ness, because all nations and ages have adopted one than the other. Hence if our thoughts it. Consequently service is the relation which, have nothing to act upon, they act upon our-of all others, affects the greatest numbers of selves. They acquire a corrosive quality. They individuals, and in the most sensible manner. become in the last degree irksome and tor- In whatever country, therefore, this relation menting. Wherefore that sort of equitable is well and equitably regulated, in that counengagement, which takes up the thoughts suf- try the poor will be happy. Now how is the ficiently, yet so as to leave them capable of matter managed with us? Except apprenturning to any thing more important, as occa- ticeships, the necessity of which every one, at sions offer or require, is a most invaluable least every father and mother, will acknow. blessing. And if the industrious be not sen-ledge, as the best, if not the only practicable, sible of the blessing, it is for no other reason way of gaining instruction and skill, and than because they have never experienced, or which have their foundation in nature, because rather suffered the want of it. they have their foundation in the natural igAgain; some of the necessities which pover-norance and imbecility of youth; except these, ty (if the condition of the labouring part of service in England, is, as it ought to be, volunnankind must be so called) imposes, are not tary and by contract; a fair exchange of work hardships but pleasures. Frugality itself is a for wages; an equal bargain, in which each pleasure. It is an exercise of attention and party has his rights and his redress; wherein contrivance, which, whenever it is successful, every servant chooses his master. Can this produces satisfaction. The very care and fore-be mended? I will add, that a continuance cast that are necessary to keep expenses and of this connexion is frequently the foundation earnings upon a level, form, when not embar- of so much mutual kindness and attachment, rassed by too great difficulties, an agreeable engagement of the thoughts. This is lost amidst abundance. There is no pleasure in taking out of a large unmeasured fund. They who do that, and only that, are the mere conveyers of money from one hand to another.

that very few friendships are more cordial, or more sincere; that it leaves oftentimes nothing in servitude except the name; nor any distinction but what one party is as much pleased with, and sometimes also as proud of, as the other.

A yet more serious advantage which persons What then (for this is the fair way of calin inferior stations possess, is the ease with culating) is there in higher stations to place which they provide for their children. All against these advantages? What does the the provision which a poor man's child re- poor man see in the life or condition of the quires, is contained in two words, "industry rich, that should render him dissatisfied with and innocence." With these qualities, though his own? without a shilling to set him forwards, he goes Was there as much in sensual pleasures, I into the world prepared to become an useful, mean in the luxuries of eating and drinking, virtuous, and happy man. Nor will he fail to and other gratifications of that sort, as some meet with a maintenance adequate to the ha- men's imaginations would represent them to oits with which he has been brought up, and be, but which no man's experience finds in to the expectations which he has formed; a them, I contend, that even in these respects, degree of success sufficient for a person of any the advantage is on the side of the poor. condition whatever. These qualities of in- rich, who addict themselves to indulgence, dustry and innocence, which, I repeat again, lose their relish. Their desires are dead. Their are all that are absolutely necessary, every pa. sensibilities are worn and tired. Hence they rent can give to his children without expense, lead a languid satiated existence. Hardly any because he can give them by his own authori- thing can amuse, or rouse, or gratify them. ty and example; and they are to be commu- Whereas the poor man, if something extraornicated, I believe, and preserved, in no other dinary fall in his way, comes to the repast with way. I call this a serious advantage of humble appetite; is pleased and refreshed: derives

The