indulging their fancy in groundless analogies between intellectual and material phenomena. It is, in truth, a language which is infinitely more unphilosophical than that employed by the materialists, who suppose thinking to result from bodily organization, and the whole man to perish at the moment of death. In their practical tendency, I can see no difference between the two opinions.

I have now stated all that I think it necessary for me to offer in illustration of the argument for a future state derived from the nature of mind,—an argument which, although it seems to me to be highly favourable to our future hopes, I have avoided to urge with the confidence of demonstrative certainty. In entering upon the subject, I observed that those writers who, from the immateriality of the soul, conclude that it is physically and necessarily immortal, have pushed the conclusion too far; and that the proper use of the speculation concerning the nature of mind, is not to establish the truth of the point in question, but to refute the objections which have been urged against the possibility of the proposition. Although our knowledge of the nature of mind may not be sufficient to afford us any positive argument on the subject, yet, if it can be shown that the dissolution of the body does not necessarily infer the extinction of the soul; and still more, if it can be shown that the presumption is in favour of the contrary supposition, the moral proofs of a future retribution will meet with a more easy reception, when the doctrine is freed from the metaphysical difficulties which it has been apprehended to involve. It is in this moderate form that the argument from the light of nature is stated by Butler; and the considerations he mentions prove fully, not only that no presumption against a future state can be collected from the dissolution of the body, but that the contrary supposition is more agreeable to the general analogy of nature. For establishing this conclusion, important hints may be collected from Clarke's Letters to Dodwell, where, although the reasoning may be insufficient to demonstrate the proposition which the author had in view, it affords, at least, a satisfactory refutation of all those cavils against a future state which sceptics:

VOL. VII.

M

have founded on the supposition of our thinking powers being the result of our bodily organization.

Before proceeding to examine the moral evidences for a future state, it may be of use to remark, in farther confirmation of some of the foregoing reasonings, that there is nothing absurd in the supposition, nor contrary to the analogy of those laws by which we know the universe to be governed. There is nothing even contrary to the analogy of what we have already experienced in the former history of our own being. The change which takes place in the state of the infant at the moment of its birth may perhaps be analogous to the change we are destined to undergo at the moment of our dissolution. And it is probable, that, if an infant in the womb were capable of reflecting on its condition, it would be as apprehensive of the consequences of birth as we are of those of death. Some beautiful illustrations of this idea are to be found in Bishop Butler,* and indeed in various other authors, both ancient and modern. It is touched upon with a pathetic simplicity by Sir John Davis,t in the poem which I already quoted, [p. 172]; and Marcus Antoninus avails himself of it as an argument to reconcile us to the appointed order of nature in the termination of human life.

"It becomes a wise man neither to be inconsiderate, impetuous, or ostentatiously contemptuous about death, but to await the season of it as one of the operations of Nature. As you are now awaiting the season when the foetus shall come out of the womb of your wife, thus await the season when your soul shall fall out of these its teguments."1

The transformation of insects has been brought in aid of the same pleasing idea; and although, when taken by itself, no stress can be laid upon it as a philosophical argument, yet, when joined to other considerations, it will not appear without some force to those who have directed their attention to the

* [Analogy, Part I. ch. i., bis; Vol. I. p. 16 and p. 36, edit. Glasgow, 1764.] Of the Immortality of the Soul, sect. xxxiii.]

1 De Rebus Suis, Lib. IX. §. iii.See also in Seneca's Epistles, end of Letter cii.

CHAP. IV.—OF A FUTURE STATE. (§ 1.)

179

analogies of nature. It shows, at least, that the supposition is not quite anomalous, when compared with what we actually know of the works of God; and it accords happily with the numberless instances in which the instincts and the economy of the lower animals seem to have been intended to typify to the fancy the arts of human life, and the arrangements of human affairs.

Dr. Butler himself has not thought it unworthy of his notice,* and Dr. Ferguson, in the following passage, has adorned it, not only with the recommendation of his eloquence, but almost with the colours of poetry.

"It has been observed that the Author of Nature appears to delight in variety; and we may now add, not merely in the variety of description that may serve to distinguish quiescent natures, but in the variety of steps also incident to the progress and continued existence of one and the same being.

"Such are the successive variations exhibited in every part of the vegetable, the animal, and the intellectual kingdom. Among these there are examples of progression coming in one line or direction to an end, but renewed in a different one. The butterfly originates in a species of egg, which is deposited on the leaf of a plant, from which the animal after he is hatched may derive his nourishment. He lives at first in the form of a worm or caterpillar. He enjoys the food that is provided for him, and, as far as we are qualified to observe, bears no prognostic of any farther destination. But, having grown to a certain dimension, he becomes restless in his place, and removes to some place of retreat, in which he may repose and end his life undisturbed. He mounts to some height from the ground, and makes himself fast, while his animal functions are suspended, or apparently cease. In the meantime he takes a new form, and, cased with an inflexible crust, becomes what the naturalists have called an aurelia or chrysalis, without any power of local motion, or any appearance of life.

"But to the changes which he has thus undergone succeeds in the proper season a change still farther removed from his *[Analogy, Part I. chap. i.]

original state. He awakes from his torpid condition, breaks the crust of the chrysalis in which he was cased, is borne aloft upon wings variegated in the pride of most beautiful colours; and thus from a reptile that crept on the ground, or devoured the grosser part of a leaf on which he was hatched, he comes to perform all his movements in the air, and scarcely touches a plant but to suck from its flower the finest part of the juices; he sports in the sun, and displays the activity of a new life, during the heat and the light of noon."

"1

SECT. II.-OF THE EVIDENCES FOR A FUTURE STATE ARISING FROM THE HUMAN CONSTITUTION, AND FROM THE CIRCUMSTANCES IN WHICH MAN IS PLACED.

The presumptions hitherto suggested in proof of a future state, and which are drawn from the nature of mind, form what is commonly called the metaphysical argument on this subject. Those which I am now to state form what is called moral argument. They are drawn chiefly from a comparison of the constitution of man with the circumstances in which he is placed at present; and when combined together they form a mass of evidence incomparably more satisfactory and impressive than any conviction arising from metaphysical disquisitions.

The field of speculation which the moral argument for a future state opens to the mind is so extensive, or rather so boundless, that in the following remarks I must confine my attention to a few of those particulars which appear to myself to be more peculiarly important. Among these the most obvious, and to the bulk of mankind one of the most striking, is the presumption arising from,

(1st,) The natural desire of immortality, and the anticipations of futurity inspired by hope.

These desires and anticipations are not to be confounded 1 Principles of Moral and Political Science, Vol. I. pp. 324, 325. [Part I. chap. iii. sect. 14.]

with the animal principle of self-preservation, nor even with that love of life which is natural to every man who is in good health and spirits, and whose situation in the world is easy and comfortable. The instinctive principle of self-preservation operates with as little reflection on our part as the winking of our eyelids when the organ of sight is threatened with a sudden injury, or as the effort we make to preserve the balance of the body when we are in danger of falling. And as for the cool and deliberate love of life, it is founded chiefly on our attachment to sensual enjoyments, or to those frivolous distinctions that are connected with our present condition; whereas the desire of immortality arises from our rational nature, from our ardent aspirings at excellence and perfection, and from the consciousness we have of the indefinite progress of which our powers are capable. Indeed, the most effectual of all remedies against that inordinate love of life which interferes with the discharge of our duties, is a firm conviction of the soul's immortality; that conviction which can alone enable a rational mind to "smile at the dagger and defy its point." Even in those men who are the most sceptical on this subject, when they sacrifice life in a worthy cause, and from a regard to the obligation of conscience, they are probably influenced at the moment (perhaps unknowingly to themselves, for we are not always acquainted with the real motives of our own actions) by some indistinct anticipations of a future existence. For what is the exultation accompanying a good conscience but a fearless confidence in futurity, or, in other words, a conviction that we have recommended ourselves to the favour of the Righteous Governor of the universe. On the other hand, where the hope and belief of immortality are eradicated from the mind by habits of dissipation or of profligacy, and where sensual enjoyments are regarded as the sole constituents of happiness, a mean and cowardly love of life seldom fails to prevail. The prayer ascribed to Mecanas is the genuine wish of such an Epicurean.

"Debilem facito manu,

Debilem pede, coxa;