mation; but they do not confider the character of the piece. The writers against religion, whilft they oppofe every fyftem, are wifely careful never to fet up any of their own. If fome inaccuracies in calculation, in reasoning, or in method be found, perhaps these will not be looked upon as faults by the admirers of Lord BOLINGBROKE; who will, the editor is afraid, observe much more of his Lordship's character in fuch particulars of the following letter, than they are like to find of that rapid torrent of an impetuous and overbearing eloquence, and the variety of rich imagery for which that writer is justly admired.

A LETTER

HALL I venture to fay, my Lord, that in our late con

S verfation, you were inclined to the party which you

adopted rather by the feelings of your good-nature, than by the conviction of your judgment? We laid open the foundations of fociety; and you feared, that the curiofity of this fearch might endanger the ruin of the whole fabrick. You would readily have allowed my principle, but you dreaded the confequences; you thought, that having once entered upon these reasonings, we might be carried infenfibly and irresistably farther than at firft we could either have imagined or wished. But for my part, my Lord, I then thought, and am still of the fame opinion, that error, and not truth of any kind, is dangerous; that ill conclufions can only flow from falfe propofitions; and that, to know whether any propofition be true or falfe, it is a prepofterous method to examine it by its apparent confequences.

These were the reasons which induced me to go fo far into that enquiry; and they are the reafons which direct me in all my enquiries. I had indeed often reflected on that subject before I could prevail upon myself to communicate my reflections to any body. They were generally VOL. I. melancholy

C

melancholy enough; as thofe ufually are which carry us beyond the mere furface of things; and which would undoubtedly make the lives of all thinking men extremely miserable, if the fame philofophy which caused the grief, did not at the fame time adminifter the comfort.

On confidering political societies, their origin, their conftitution, and their effects, I have sometimes been in a good deal more than doubt, whether the Creator did ever really intend man for a state of happiness. He has mixed in his cup a number of natural evils, (in spite of the boasts of ftoicifm they are evils) and every endeavour which the art and policy of mankind has used from the beginning of the world to this day, in order to alleviate, or cure them, has only ferved to introduce new mifchiefs, or to aggravate and inflame the old. Befides this, the mind of man itself is too active and reftlefs a principle ever to fettle on the true point of quiet. It difcovers every day fome craving want in a body, which really wants but little. It every day invents fome new artificial rule to guide that nature which, if left to itself, were the beft and fureft guide. It finds out imaginary beings prefcribing imaginary laws; and then, it raises imaginary terrors to fupport a belief in the beings, and an obedience to the laws. Many things have been faid, and very well undoubtedly, on the fubjection in which we should preferve our bodies to the government of our understanding; but enough has not been faid upon the restraint which our bodily neceffities ought to lay on the extravagant fublimities and excentrick rovings of our minds.. The body, or as fome love to call it, our inferior nature, is wifer in its own plain way, and attends its own business more directly than the mind with all its boafted fubtilty.

In the state of nature, without question, mankind was fubjected to many and great inconveniences. Want of

union, want of mutual affiftance, want of a common arbitrator to refort to in their differences. These were evils which they could not but have felt pretty feverely on many occafions. The original children of the earth lived with their brethren of the other kinds in much equality. Their diet must have been confined almost wholly to the vegetable kind; and the fame tree, which in its flourishing state produced them berries, in its decay gave them an habitation. The mutual defires of the fexes uniting their bodies and affections, and the children, which were the results of these intercourses, introduced first the notion of fociety, and taught its conveniences. This fociety, founded in natural appetites and instincts, and not in any positive inftitution, I shall call natural fociety. Thus far nature went and fucceeded; but man would go farther. The great error of our nature is, not to know where to ftop, not to be fatiffied with any reasonable acquirement; not to compound with our condition; but to lofe all we have gained by an infatiable purfuit after more. Man found a confiderable advantage by this union of many persons to form one family; he therefore judged that he would find his account proportionably in an union of many families into one body politick. And as nature has formed no bond of union to hold them together, he fupplied this defect by laws.

This is political fociety. And hence the fources of what are ufually called ftates, civil focieties, or governments; into fome form of which, more extended or restrained, all mankind have gradually fallen. And fince it has fo happened, and that we owe an implicit reverence to all the institutions of our ancestors, we fhall confider these institutions with all that modefty with which we ought to conduct ourselves in examining a received opinion; but with all that freedom and candour which we owe to truth wherever we find it,