The Portable Edmund Burke (Portable Library) Read online

  She has such virtues as make us value the truely great of our own Sex. She has all the winning Graces that make us love even the faults we see in the weak and Beautiful of hers.

  Who can see and know such a Creature and not love to Distraction?

  Who can know her, and himself, and entertain much hope?

  RELIGION OF NO EFFICACY

  Nothing can operate but from its own principles. The Principle of Religion is that God attends to our actions to reward and punish them. This Principle has an independent Operation, and Influences our Actions much to the Benefit of civil Society. But then the Influence on civil Society is only an oblique Influence. The Direct Influence is the civil Law itself, its own Principles and its own Sanctions. If you attempt to make the end of Religion to be its Utility to human Society, to make it only a sort of supplement to the Law, and insist principally upon this Topic, as is very common to do, you then change its principle of Operation, which consists on Views beyond this Life, to a consideration of another kind, and of an inferiour kind; and thus, by forcing it against its Nature to become a Political Engine,You make it an Engine of no efficacy at all. It can never operate for the Benefit of human Society but when we think it is directed quite another way: because it then only operates from its own principle. Will any Man believe that eternal rewards and Punishments are the Sanctions of Momentary things of no Concern? Will he not think it a strange Machine that employs so vast, so immense a force, such a grand Apparatus to move so insignificant a weight? Is it not much more natural, much more in the order of things, to suppose that if a reasonable Creature is to determine of his own Destiny so as to determine him for Bliss or for Misery everlastingly, that the Trial is made subservient to a great End of the last Importance, and that Trial the Means of Attaining that End, rather than that all Eternity should be subservient to the purposes of a moment? When we are told this, we cool immediately. The Springs are seen; we value ourselves on the Discovery; we cast Religion to the Vulgar and lose all restraint. For as we confine the Ends of Religion to this world, we naturally annihilate its Operation, which must wholly depend upon the Consideration of another. Men never gain anything, by forcing Nature to conform to their Politicks. I know the Clergy, shamed and frightend at the Imputation of Enthusiasm, endeavour to cover Religion under the Shield of Reason, which will have some force with their Adversaries. But God has been pleased to give Mankind an Enthusiasm to supply the want of Reason; and truely, Enthusiasm comes nearer the great and comprehensive Reason in its effects, though not in the Manner of Operation, than the Common Reason does; which works on confined, narrow, common, and therefore plausible, Topics. The former is the lot of very few. The latter is common; and fit enough for common affairs—to buy and sell, to teach Grammar and the like; but is utterly unfit to meddle with Politics, Divinity and Philosophy. But Enthusiasm is a sort of Instinct, in those who possess it, that operates, like all Instincts, better than a mean Species of Reason.

  It is true indeed that enthusiasm often misleads us. So does reason too. Such is the Condition of our Nature; and we can’t help it. But I believe that we act most when we act with all the Powers of our Soul; when we use our Enthusiasm to elevate and expand our Reasoning; and our Reasoning to check the Roving of our Enthusiasm.

  As God has made all his Creatures active, He has made Man principally so. Many of our actions that compose our principal Duties are difficult, attended with trouble, and often with Danger. But action is influenced by Opinion—and our Notion of things; and nothing but strong and confirmed Opinion can lead to resolute Action. Therefore doubt and Scepticism were no more made for Man than Pride and Positiveness; for no Action, or but feeble and imperfect essays towards action, can arise from dubious Notions and fluctuating Principles.

  RELIGION

  If there be a God such as we conceive, He must be our Maker.

  If he is our Maker, there is a Relation between us.

  If there be a Relation between us, some Duty must arise from that Relation, since [we] cannot conceive that a reasonable Creature can be placed in any Relation that does not give rise to some Duty.

  This Relation betwixt God and Man, is that Man has received several Benefits but can return none. That he may suffer all Manner of Mischief, but can return none, or by himself avert none.

  Therefore by no act can he perform this Duty; but he can by the Sentiments of his Mind.

  Where we have received good, ‘tis natural to Praise.

  Where we hope good, it is natural to pray.

  Where we fear Evil, ‘tis natural to deprecate it.

  This is the foundation of Religion.

  We have a Relation to other Men.

  We want many things compassable only by the help of other beings like ourselves.

  They want things compassable within our Help.

  We love these beings and have a Sympathy with them.

  If we require help, ‘tis reasonable we should give help.

  If we love, ‘tis natural to do good to those whom we love.

  Hence one Branch of our Duties to our fellow Creatures is active—Hence Benevolence.

  This is the foundation of Morality.

  Morality does not necessarily include Religion, since it concerns only our Relation with Men.

  But Religion necessarily includes Morality, because the Relation of God as a Creator is the same to other Men as to us.

  If God has placed us in a Relation attended with Duties, it must be agreeable to him that we perform those Duties.

  Hence Moral Duties are included in Religion, and enforced by it.

  If God has provided fatally for all things, we may honour him but we can neither love him, fear him, nor hope in Him. For there is no object for those Passions.

  This would reduce all worship to praise only, and Gratitude.

  Gratitude is an inert Principal, because it concerns only things done.

  Hope and fear are the Springs of everything in us, because they look to the future about which, only, Mankind can be sollicitous. To take away Providence would therefore be to take away Religion.

  The Arguments against Providence are from our Reasonings, observing a certain order in the works of God. There is nothing at all in our natural feelings against it.

  There is a great deal in our natural feelings for it.

  All Dependant Beings that have a Sense of their Dependence naturally cry out to their Superiour for assistance.

  No man can act uniformly as if a fatality governed everything.

  Men do not naturally conceive that, when they are strongly actuated to call upon a Superior, that [sic] they cannot be heard; they do not conceive that they have Passions which have no Purpose.

  They naturally measure their Duties to the Divinity by their own wants and their feelings, and not by abstract Speculations.

  In the one they cannot be deceived, in the other they may.

  One is taken from the Nature of God which we do not understand, the other from our own which we understand better.

  Metaphysical or Physical Speculations neither are, or ought to be, the Grounds of our Duties; because we can arrive at no certainty in them. They have a weight when they concur with our own natural feelings; very little when against them.

  The Ends of a transitory Animal may be answered without any knowledge of a God. They are so answered in Beasts.

  Men have some knowledge of God.

  Hence we presume other Ends are to be answered.

  Man has Ideas of Immortality, and wishes for it; he does not think he has Ideas and Wishes, for no End.

  Hence he presumes he may be Immortal.

  Man is sensible he has Duties; that the Performance of these Duties must be agreeable to God; That being agreeable to God is the way to be happy.

  Experience shows him that the Performance of these Duties does not give him happiness in Life;—therefore He concludes that they must make him happy after Death; and that for that Reason, something in him must survive.

  He sees
that this Notion is favourable to the performance of all his Duties, and that the Contrary notion is unfavourable to it.

  He observes that this Notion tends to perfect his Nature; that the contrary tends to sink him to a level of Inferiour Natures.

  In disputed Questions those Notions that tend to make him better and happier, to bind him to his fellow Creatures, and to his Creator and to make him a more excellent Creature, are true rather than the Contrary. These Arguments are taken from within; the others are foreign.

  If his Soul survives after Death; it does not appear why it should not live for ever.

  If the Soul lives for ever, the Space of time spent in this Life is inconsiderable. It is therefore reasonable that it should take up but the smallest part of our Attention.

  We do not know how far our relation to other Men shall continue after Death.

  We know that our Relation to God must continue the same after Death.

  We know therefore that our Duty to God is of more Moment than our Attention to ourselves or others.

  It is natural to suppose that what goes first in the order of Nature should produce what follows it.

  It is therefore reasonable to conclude that our Performance of our Duty here must make our fate afterwards.

  It is reasonable that the smallest part of anything should be destined for the Uses of the whole, rather than that the whole should be employed for the purposes of a part.

  It is therefore reasonable to suppose that our Actions here are made the Causes of our future happiness or Misery, and not that our future Misery and Happiness are designed as the Sanctions of our Duties here.

  Hence it is that this Life is a Preparation for the next.

  Hence it is that we ought not to emmerse ourselves too much in the things which make us consider this Life as our all.

  Hence it is that for this Purpose we ought to deny ourselves; since an Indulgence in Pleasures here removes our Attention from further Objects, and weakens our Desire for them.

  We may have observed that the Passions which arise from self love frequently clash with those Duties which arise from our Relation to other Men.

  But less mischief arises from a restraint on our desires, than from indulging them to the prejudice of others.

  Thus self-Denial becomes the second of the Pillars of Morality.

  This is the more austere part of our Duty, and the most difficult.

  If we depend upon a Superior being, it is but just that we should pray to him; because we have no other means of sufficiently expressing our Dependence; though he should already be sufficiently apprised of our wants, and willing to supply them.

  If we depend upon any Superior being, it is reasonable that we should trust in him, though we do not see the Motives and tendencies of his Actions. Good Will even among Men could not be supported otherwise.

  If we have Reason to suppose that he has proposed any thing, we ought to believe it firmly, though we should not thoroughly comprehend the Nature of the things proposed; otherwise we break off our Dependence as much as we should our Connexion with Men if we refused them all Credit.

  God has given us a knowledge of himself, and we believe that knowledge to be of some Importance to us.

  We therefore ought not to imagine it impossible that he may be willing to give us some further knowledge of his Nature or his Will.

  Neither is it reasonable that we should judge it impossible for him to find fit Means of communicating this knowledge.

  If he intends to communicate such knowledge, the best Proofs of such a Design are such acts of Power as can leave us no Doubt of their coming from God; for thus it is we know that he exist[s] and that he is all powerful and all-wise.

  God has for the most Parts made Men the Instruments of all the Good he does to Men.

  Most of their strength is from mutual Assistance.

  Most of their knowledge from mutual Instruction.

  There is a principal of Credit, or faith, in Man to Man without which this Assistance and Instruction would be impracticable.

  Therefore Human Testimony is the strongest Proof we can have of anything; and leaves no doubt when it is very strong.

  That there is such a City as Rome, is a Proposition of which we can doubt less than that the Square of the Hypotenuse is equal to the Squares of the two Sides, even when the latter is demonstrated.

  The highest Degree of testimony leaves less doubt than Demonstration.

  Besides the force of it is more easily and generally comprehended.

  If God has revealed anything by evident Proofs from his Power, and that these Proofs of Power are conveyed to us by as high a Degree of Testimony as the thing can bear, we ought to believe it.

  If the thing[s] conveyed be intended to last in the world, there must be means taken to make them last; there must be Men appointed to teach them,—and Books written to record.

  There should be some evident marks of the Designation of such Men; that all may know, who they are that teach this Doctrine.

  These Men should be compellable to teach it; lest the knowledge of these truths might depend upon Caprice. There must therefore be a Society for this Purpose.

  A Vindication of Natural Society

  Burke’s first major work, A Vindication, was published in 1756, anonymously. It seems to be a root and branch assault on the traditional social order in the style of Lord Bolingbroke’s radical deism and rationalism. In a second edition, Burke added a preface revealing that he was the “late noble writer” and describing his purpose as irony and satire. By applying Bolingbroke’s ideas on natural religion to society, he explained, he had hoped to prove how ludicrous they were. Several recent students of Burke have suggested that he was himself less sure of his intention than this preface indicates.

  BEFORE the philosophical works of Lord Bolingbroke had appeared, great things were expected from the leisure of a man, who, from the splendid scene of action in which his talents had enabled him to make so conspicuous a figure, had retired to employ those talents in the investigation of truth. Philosophy began to congratulate herself upon such a proselyte from the world of business, and hoped to have extended her power under the auspices of such a leader. In the midst of these pleasing expectations, the works themselves at last appeared in full body, and with great pomp. Those who searched in them for new discoveries in the mysteries of nature; those who expected something which might explain or direct the operations of the mind; those who hoped to see morality illustrated and enforced; those who looked for new helps to society and government; those who desired to see the characters and passions of mankind delineated; in short, all who consider such things as philosophy, and require some of them at least in every philosophical work, all these were certainly disappointed; they found the landmarks of science precisely in their former places: and they thought they received but a poor recompense for this disappointment, in seeing every mode of religion attacked in a lively manner, and the foundation of every virtue, and of all government, sapped with great art and much ingenuity. What advantage do we derive from such writings? What delight can a man find in employing a capacity which might be usefully exerted for the noblest purposes, in a sort of sullen labor, in which, if the author could succeed, he is obliged to own, that nothing could be more fatal to mankind than his success?

  I cannot conceive how this sort of writers propose to compass the designs they pretend to have in view, by the instruments which they employ. Do they pretend to exalt the mind of man, by proving him no better than a beast? Do they think to enforce the practice of virtue, by denying that vice and virtue are distinguished by good or ill fortune here, or by happiness or misery hereafter? Do they imagine they shall increase our piety, and our reliance on God, by exploding his providence, and insisting that he is neither just nor good? Such are the doctrines which, sometimes concealed, sometimes openly and fully avowed, are found to prevail throughout the writings of Lord Bolingbroke; and such are the reasonings which this noble writer and several others have be
en pleased to dignify with the name of philosophy. If these are delivered in a specious manner, and in a style above the common, they cannot want a number of admirers of as much docility as can be wished for in disciples. To these the editor of the following little piece has addressed it: there is no reason to conceal the design of it any longer.

  The design was to show that, without the exertion of any considerable forces, the same engines which were employed for the destruction of religion, might be employed with equal success for the subversion of government; and that specious arguments might be used against those things which they, who doubt of everything else, will never permit to be questioned. It is an observation which I think Isocrates makes in one of his orations against the sophists, that it is far more easy to maintain a wrong cause, and to support paradoxical opinions to the satisfaction of a common auditory, than to establish a doubtful truth by solid and conclusive arguments. When men find that something can be said in favor of what, on the very proposal, they have thought utterly indefensible, they grow doubtful of their own reason; they are thrown into a sort of pleasing surprise; they run along with the speaker, charmed and captivated to find such a plentiful harvest of reasoning, where all seemed barren and unpromising. This is the fairy land of philosophy. And it very frequently happens, that those pleasing impressions on the imagination subsist and produce their effect, even after the understanding has been satisfied of their unsubstantial nature. There is a sort of gloss upon ingenious falsehoods that dazzles the imagination, but which neither belongs to, nor becomes the sober aspect of truth. I have met with a quotation in Lord Coke’s Reports that pleased me very much, though I do not know from whence he has taken it; “Interdum fucata falsitas (says he), in multis est probabilior, et sœpe rationibus vincit nudam veritatem.” In such cases the writer has a certain fire and alacrity inspired into him by a consciousness, that, let it fare how it will with the subject, his ingenuity will be sure of applause; and this alacrity becomes much greater if he acts upon the offensive, by the impetuosity that always accompanies an attack, and the unfortunate propensity which mankind have to the finding and exaggerating faults. The editor is satisfied that a mind which has no restraint from a sense of its own weakness, of its subordinate rank in the creation, and of the extreme danger of letting the imagination loose upon some subjects, may very plausibly attack everything the most excellent and venerable; that it would not be difficult to criticise the creation itself; and that if we were to examine the divine fabrics by our ideas of reason and fitness, and to use the same method of attack by which some men have assaulted revealed religion, we might with as good color, and with the same success, make the wisdom and power of God in his creation appear to many no better than foolishness. There is an air of plausibility which accompanies vulgar reasonings and notions, taken from the beaten circle of ordinary experience, that is admirably suited to the narrow capacities of some, and to the laziness of others. But this advantage is in a great measure lost, when a painful, comprehensive survey of a very complicated matter, and which requires a great variety of considerations, is to be made; when we must seek in a profound subject, not only for arguments, but for new materials of argument, their measures and their method of arrangement; when we must go out of the sphere of our ordinary ideas, and when we can never walk surely, but by being sensible of our blindness. And this we must do, or we do nothing, whenever we examine the result of a reason which is not our own. Even in matters which are, as it were, just within our reach, what would become of the world, if the practice of all moral duties, and the foundations of society, rested upon having their reasons made clear and demonstrative to every individual?