Now if you should study yourself into any new opinions, or into old ones that have been condemned, what will you do? Will you keep them to yourself, or publish them? Or fhall I rather fay, 'tis no queftion? The authors of new notions are apt to be very fond of them; they think it barbarous and cruel, to stifle the infant in its birth. There is a fecret pleasure in fingularity. To differ from the vulgar, is in appearance to be above them; and to be diftinguished from the herd, is too great a temptation to be easily refifted. But had you pru. dence enough to govern your ambition, confience may come in here, what ambition could not. think you have discovered, be thought by you of too much importance to the honour of God and the good of religion, to be concealed. You will look on them as the bleffings of God on your ftudies; and think it a capital crime to extinguish the light, and fupprefs the knowledge he has imparted to you. In short, you will think yourself under the highest obligation not to diffemble in religious matters, and conceal from the church of God, opinions which you are convinced are not only true but of great fervice to it. Let me then conclude, that the novel or revived opinions

and make you do The truths you either are, or will

which your fudy leads you into, will be publifhed to the world. What now will be the confequence? Certain mifchief, but no certain good at all. No good, I fay; for poffibly your notions may be wrong, or not of consequence; and, whether they are or not, the prefumption against you will be fo ftrong, that your notions will not be received, and perhaps not examined: They will be condemned as novel notions, or as exploded ones. And, whatever you advance, 'twill be thought a certain proof of its being of no confequence, that in fo many ages it has never been received. There is no room therefore to expect, that what you advance, should be received, or do any good. But the mischief is fure and certain. It will raise fcruples in weak and unstable minds, fap the foundations of the orthodox faith, and give a handle to fceptical men ; who, because fome things are called in doubt, (though incidental matters only and of little confequence) will think they have a right from thence to question every thing. Thus the church and established faith will fuffer by the fcruples put into its friends, and the handle given to its enemies. And when religious difputes are begun, defigning min know how to intermix affairs of ftate with them; and then no body knows where they will end, or what mifchiefs they may do.

Where

Whereas if you can be content to go on in the beaten road; if you will implicitly fubmit to the received notions; and humbly think the judgment of the church, where 'tis not the fame, better than your own; you will be out of harm's way, and neither hurt the church nor your felf.

2. I add, yourself; as another motive, that ought to have great weight with you in this queftion. For you cannot disturb the peace of the church, without being greatly a sufferer yourfelf. If you really do not difturb its peace, 'tis all one, you will be interpreted to do it; and that will bring on you more evils, than I would with to my greatest enemy. In a word, you will be thought a heretic; a term, which there is a strange magic in, though it has no determinate meaning in the mouth of the people, nor any ill meaning in itself. 'Tis fuppofed to include in it every thing that is bad; it makes every thing appear odious and deformed; it diffolves all friendships, extinguishes all former kind fentiments, however juft and well deferved: And from the time a man is deemed a beretic, 'tis charity to act against all rules of charity; and the more they violate the laws of God in dealing with him, is, in their opinion, doing God the greater fervice.

VOL. IV.

B

That

That you may not think this is faid at ran dom, purely to frighten you into a compliance with me; let me defire you to confider seriously the natural confequences of being under the imputation of herefy. And the firft I would obferve, is, that from the moment your people have this opinion of you, you are incapacitated from working much good upon them; and that, I'm fure, fo good a man as you are, must think to be a great evil. While they think you orthodox, your virtuous and inoffenfive behaviour, your strict sobriety and temperance, your affable and familiar manner of converfing with them, your generous and charitable regard to thofe who are fick or in diftrefs; thefe good qualities, joined to your plain and easy, but affectionate and moving manner of inftructing them, have a mighty influence, and you may lead them as you pleafe: They admire and endeavour to imitate your good example: Your virtuous conduct is a conftant, though tacit, reproof when they do amifs: The very fight of you, is a lecture of virtue to them; and the influence you have already had in the little time you have been among them, is too visible to be denied. But. from the time you are called heretic, much of the good you could have done, is at an end. Those who before had a fecret veneration of you, think it their duty to defame and injure you: your virtue, they call hypocrify; your

humility,

humility, fpiritual pride. They look on you as an abandoned wretch; that God has withdrawn his grace, and that the devil is at the bottom of all you have been doing: That nothing can better teftify their orthodoxy, than to throw off all regard both to your doctrine and example; and for fear they fhould feem to be infected with your errors, they will return to the vices you had perfuaded them to leave; and for the future, will take effectual care not to be the better for you.

No body can do much good, whom the people do not think a good man; and that cannot be expected, when fo much reproach and infamy will, right or wrong, be heaped on you, if you do not continue orthodox. And this you cannot doubt, if you will but reflect on what passes under your own eyes. And therefore 'tis in vain to fancy your virtue will protect you. No, the most confpicuous virtue will not be believed. If you are guilty of no open vices, fecret ones will be imputed to you; your enquiries will be called rain, curius and forbidden ftudies. Pride and ambition will be faid to be the fecret fprings of them. A fearch after truth, will be called a love of novelty. The doubting of a single text, will be fcepticism; the denial of an argument, a renouncing of the faith. tures have faid, and in

To fay what the Scripthe very fame words too,