The following interesting particulars of the ancestors of Jonathan Edwards will be acceptable to the reader. They are introduced in this separate form that the thread of the narration may not be interrupted; and this plan will be adopted for a similar reason in other instances.

The family of Edwards is of Welch origin. The Rev. Richard Edwards, the great-great-grandfather, and earliest known ancestor of President Edwards, was a clergyman in London, in the time of Queen Elizabeth. He came, according to the family tradition, from Wales to the metropolis, but in what county his family lived, or of what church in London he was minister, is not know. His wife, Mrs. Ann Edwards, after the death of her husband, married Mr. James Coles; who with her son, William Edwards, then young and unmarried, accompanied her to Hartford in Connecticut about the year 1640, where they both died.

William Edwards, Esquire, the great-grandfather, resided in Hartford, and is supposed to have been by profession a merchant. His wife, whose christian name was Agnes, and who came when a young lady with her parents to America, had two brothers in England(one the mayor of Exeter, the other the mayor of Barnstable. Their marriage occurred probably about the year 1645. It is not known whether they had more than one child.

Richard Edwards, Esquire, the grandfather, and so far as can now be ascertained, the only child of William and Agnes Edwards, was born at Hartford in May, 1647, and resided in that town during his life. [1] He also was a merchant, and a man of wealth and respectability. At an early age he became a communicant in the presbyterian church in Hartford, and adorned his profession by a long life of conscientious integrity, and unusual devotedness to the prosperity of religion. He married Elizabeth Tuthill, the daughter of William and Elizabeth Tuthill, who came from Northamptonshire in England. Mr. Tuthill was a merchant of New-Haven, and one of the proprietors of the colony attempted on Delaware Bay. By this connecxion Mr. Edwards had seven children, the eldest of whom was the Rev. Timothy Edwards. After her decease, he married a Miss Talcot, of Hartford, sister of the Hon. John Talcot, by whom he had six children. He died April 20, 1718, in the 71 year of his age; exhibiting, resignation and triumphant faith.

The family of Stoddard is of English descent. Anthony Stoddard, Esquire, the maternal great-grandfather of President Edwards, and the first of the family in America, emigrated from the west of England to Boston. He had five wives; the first of whom, Mary Downing, the sister of Sir George Downing, was the mother of the Rev. Solomon Stoddard of Northampton. His other children were Anthony, Simeon, Samson, and Israel.

The Rev. Solomon Stoddard, his eldest child, and the maternal grandfather of President Edwards, was born in 1643, and received the degree of A. B. at Harvard college in 1662. Soon after his licensure, the first minister of Northampton, the Rev. Eleazar Mather, then a young man, died, [1] and the parish applied to one of the ministers of Boston to designate a successor. He advised them at all hazards to secure Mr. Stoddard. When the parish committee applied to him, he had already taken his passage for London, and put his effects on board the ship with the expectation of sailing the next day; but through the earnest solicitation of the gentlemen who had recommended him, he was induced to relinquish the voyage and go to Northampton. He began to preach there in 1669, soon after the death of Mr. Mather, and on the 4th of March, 1670, received a unanimous call from the church and people of that village to become their minister; but was not ordained until September 11, 1672. On the 8th of March, 1670, he married Mrs. Esther Mather, originally Miss Warham, the youngest child of Rev. John Warham, of Windsor in Connecticut, [1] and widow of his predecessor, who had left three children. Mr. and Mrs. Stoddard had twelve children; six sons and six daughters. He was a man celebrated throughout the colonies for his capacity, his knowledge of men, his influence in the churches, and his zeal for vital religion; and will long be remembered for his valuable writings, which have often been published on both sides of the Atlantic. [1] He was the minister of Northampton from 1672 until his death in 1729, and left impressions of a character strongly marked for originality, for talents, for energy, and for piety, on the minds of its inhabitants, which the lapse of a century has scarcely begun to diminish.

The Rev. Timothy Edwards, the father of President Edwards, was born at Hartford, May 14, 1669, and pursued his studies preparatory to his admission to college, under the Rev. Mr. Glover of Springfield, a gentleman distinguished for his classical attainments. In 1687, he entered Harvard college, at that time the only seminary in the colonies; and received the two degrees of Bachelor and Master of Arts on the same day, July 4, 1691, one in the morning, and the other in the afternoon, “an uncommon mark of respect paid to his extraordinary proficiency in learning,” such is the statement in the records of East Windsor. After the usual course of theological study, at that time longer and more thorough than it was during the latter half of the following century, he was ordained to the ministry of the gospel in the east parish of Windsor in Connecticut, in May, 1694.

ccix Windsor was the earliest settlement in that colony, the first house having been erected there in Oct. 1633. The original inhabitants came from Devonshire, Dorsetshire, and Somersetshire in England. They arrived at Boston in the beginning of the year 1630; and planted themselves at Dorchester in Massachusetts, were there formed into a congregational church on the 20th of March; when the Rev. John Warham, previously a distinguished clergyman in Exeter, but ejected as a nonconformist, was installed their pastor. Finding themselves straitened for room at that place, in consequence of the great number of emigrants from England, the church with their minister left Dorchester, and planted themselves in Windsor, in the summer of 1635. This town, lying immediately north of Hartford, and delightfully situated in the valley of Connecticut, originally comprehended a very large tract of land on both sides of the river, and is distinguished for the fertility of its soil, and the beauty of its scenery. The inhabitants constituted one parish until the year 1694; when those residing on the eastern side of the Connecticut, finding it inconvenient to cross the river, and being grown sufficiently numerous to support public worship among themselves, proceeded to build a church, which stood near to the present burying ground, and invited Mr. Timothy Edwards, son of Richard Edwards, Esquire, of Hartford to be their minister.

Mr. Edwards was married, on the 6th day of November, 1694, to Esther Stoddard, the second child of the Rev. Solomon Stoddard, who was born in 1672. His father, immediately after his settlement, purchased for him a farm of moderate extent, and built him a house, which was regarded, at the time of its erection, as a handsome residence. It was still standing in 1803; it was a solid, substantial house of moderate dimensions, had one chimney in the middle, and was entered, like all other houses at that period, by stepping over the sill. In this house his children were born, and he and Mrs. Edwards resided during their lives. They had one son and ten daughters, whose names follow in the order of their births:(Esther, Elizabeth, Anne, Mary, Jonathan, Eunice, Abigail, Jerusha, Hannah, Lucy, and Martha. [1]

In the spring of 1711, Mr. Edwards and the Rev. Mr. Buckingham of Milford, were appointed by the legislature of the colony, the chaplains of the Connecticut troops in a military expedition, designed for Canada. He left Windsor for New-Haven in July. A fleet, consisting of twenty men of war and eighty transports, sailed from Canada on the 30th of that month. Three companies under the command of Lieut. Col. Livingston, marched from New-Haven for Albany on the 9th of August, with whom went Mr. Edwards and Mr. Buckingham. The country through which their march lay, was at that time chiefly uncleared; and the troops were obliged to lie out two nights in the forest. They reached Albany on the 15th, and found there, including their own regiment, about 1100 whites, and 120 Indians. The following letter, addressed to Mr. Edwards from Albany, not only details the state of the expedition, but unfolds the character of the writer, and the circumstances of his family.

“To Mrs. Ester Edwards, on the east side of Connecticut river, in Windsor.

Albany, August 17, 1711.

My dear and loving wife,

The last Wednesday we came to this place. That we might not travel too hard for the footmen of our troops, (which consisted but of half the regiment, the rest not marching out of New-Haven when we did,) we spent seven days in the journey, which Col. Livingston judges to be about 160 miles, and I am apt to think it may not be much short of it. I lay with our troops two nights in the woods. I took cold in my journey, and have something of a cough, and am otherwise not much amiss. Notwithstanding this I am able to travel, and hope I shall be so through the whole journey. Col. Livingston has been very careful of me, so that through the whole march, both as to diet and lodging, I fared as well in the main as himself. The rest of the officers and the troops carry themselves as well to me as I can expect or desire.

Here are about 1100 white men, (or will be, at least, when the rest of the regiment come up, whom we expect to-night) and 120 Indians, beside what are expected of the Five Nations, which many here think will be 1600 or 1800 men, but Col. Schuyler told me that he did not expect more than 1000. About 200 or 250 more whites are expected; so that the whole army that goes to Canada is like to be about 2500 men; to carry whom over the lake, there are provided, as I am told here, 350 batteaux and 40 or 50 bark canoes. The Governor of New York and the General are here. The General is in great haste to have the forces on their march; so that Col. Schuyler’s regiment was, as I understand, ordered to march out of town yesterday; but as I slept last night, and still am, on the east side of the river, I am uncertain whether they are yet gone. The General told Col. Livingston and me also afterwards, that we must march for Wood Creek to-morrow, but I am apt to think we shall hardly march till Monday.

Whether I shall have any time to write to you after this I know not; but however that may be, I would not have you discouraged or over anxious concerning me, for I am not so about myself. I have still strong hopes of seeing thee and our dear children once again. I cannot but hope that I have had the gracious presence of God with me since I left home, encouraging and strengthening my soul, as well as preserving my life. I have been much cheered and refreshed respecting this great undertaking, in which I verily expect to proceed, and that I shall, before many weeks are at an end, see Canada; but I trust in the Lord that he will have mercy on me, and thee, my dear, and all our dear children, and that God has more work for me to do in the place where I have dwelt for many years, and that you and I shall yet live together on earth, as well as dwell together for ever in heaven with the Lord Jesus Christ, and all his saints, with whom to be is best of all.

Remember my love to each of the children, to Esther, Elizabeth, Anne, Mary, Jonathan, Eunice, and Abigail. The Lord have mercy on and eternally save them all, with our dear little Jerusha! The Lord bind up their souls with thine and mine in the bundle of life. Tell the children, that I would have them, if they desire to see their father again, to pray daily for me in secret; and above all things to seek the favour of God in Christ Jesus, and that while they are young.

I would have you very careful of my books and account of rates. I sent you from New-Haven a 40s. bill in a letter by Lieut. Willis, and since that ordered the treasurer to deliver to my father six pounds more for you. You may call for it, or send for it by some sure hand.

Though for a while we must be absent from each other, yet, I desire that we may often meet at the throne of grace in our earnest prayers one for another, and have great hopes that God will hear and answer our prayers. The God of grace be with you.

I am, thy loving husband,

On Monday, August 20th, they marched for Wood Creek. At Saratoga, in consequence of the fatigues and exposure of the march, Mr. Edwards was taken severely ill. On the 4th of September, being unable to proceed with the army, he was conveyed in a boat to Stillwater. Thence he was carried back through the woods to Albany, where he arrived in three days in a state of extreme danger. On the 10th he wrote to Mrs. Edwards as follows:

“To Mrs. Esther Edwards in Windsor, New England.

Albany, Sept. 10, 1711.

My dear,

I came last Tuesday from Saratoga towards Albany, very ill, in order to return home; having been ill more than a month, and growing at last so weak that I could ccxgo no further than that place, which is near fifty miles above Albany. I came to Albany in a waggon, lying along in a bed, prepared for me, last Thursday night. Since then I have been at the house of Madam Vandyke, a Dutch gentlewoman, where I have been so kindly taken care of, that I am much better, and daily gain strength, and my lost appetite is somewhat recovered. I hope to be able to ride homeward next week.

Last Friday I sent Mr. Hezekiah Mason to New England, to acquaint my father and my friends at Windsor how it is with me, and to desire three or four of them to come hither and to bring an easy horse with them for me to ride upon, and to come provided to carry home my effects, and to bring a blanket or two with them in case we should be forced to sleep in the woods. I should have written by him, but was too ill to do it. This is the first day I have been able to sit up. If the neighbours have not started when you receive this, speak to Mr. Drake that they set out as soon as possible.

I rejoice to learn, by a letter from my father, that you were all well on the 2d, and hope in the mercy of God to see you all ere long.

Lieut. Silvy, sent over by the queen to serve in this expedition, a stout, active young man, who came sick with me in another waggon from the camp to Albany, died this evening just by my lodgings. We came together from the camp sick, we lay together in one room by the way sick, we lodged just by one another several days in this town sick(but he is dead, and I am alive and recovering. Blessed be God for his distinguishing and underserved grace to me! Remember my love to all the children. Give my respects to Mr. Colton, who I understand stays with you. I wish you to provide something for my cough, which is the worst I ever had in my life. Remember my love to sister Staughton, and my duty to my father and mother, if you have opportunity.

I am your very affectionately loving husband,

Timothy Edwards.”

Owing to the lateness of the season and to numerous disappointments, the expedition was soon after relinquished; and in the course of the months Mr. Edwards returned home.

Mr. and Mrs. Edwards lived together in the married state upwards of sixty-three years. Mr. Edwards was about five feet ten inches in height, of a fair complexion; of a strong robust frame, bull, but not corpulent. He was a man of polished manners, and particularly attentive to his external appearance.(The management not only of his domestic concerns, but of his property generally, was intrusted to the care of Mrs. Edwards, who discharged the duties of a wife and a mother with singular fidelity and success. In strength of character she resembled her father, and like him she left behind her, in the place where she resided for seventy-six years, that “good name which is better than precious ointment.”

“On a visit to East Windsor, in the summer of 1823,” remarks Mr. Dwight, “I found a considerable number of persons advanced in years, who had been well acquainted with Mrs. Edwards, and two upwards of ninety, who had been pupils of her husband. From them I learned that she received a superior education in Boston, was tall, dignified, and commanding in her appearance, affable and gentle in her manners, and was regarded as surpassing her husband in native vigour of understanding. They all united in speaking of her as possessed of remarkable judgment and prudence, of an exact sense of propriety, of extensive information, of a thorough knowledge of the Scriptures and theology, and of singular conscientiousness, piety, and excellence of character. By her careful attention to all his domestic concerns, her husband was left at full liberty to devote himself to the proper duties of his profession. Like many of the ministers of the gospel of that early period in New England, he was well acquainted with Hebrew literature, and was regarded as a man of more than usual learning; but was particularly distinguished for his accurate knowledge of the Greek and Roman classics. In addition to his other duties, he annually prepared a number of pupils for college, there being at that time no public schools endowed for this purpose. One of my aged informants, who pursued his preparatory studies under him, told me, that on his admission to college, when the officers had learned with whom he had studied, they remarked to him, that there was no need of examining Mr. Edward’s scholars.”

He was for that period unusually liberal and enlightened, with regard to the education of his children; preparing not only his son but each of his daughters also for college. In a letter, bearing date Aug. 3, 1711, while absent on the expedition to Canada, he wishes that Jonathan and the girls may continue to prosecute the study of Latin; and in another of Aug. 7, that he may continue to recite his Latin to his elder sisters. When his daughters were of the proper age, he sent them to Boston, to finish their education. Both he and Mrs. Edwards were exemplary in their care of their religious instruction; and, as the reward of their parental fidelity, were permitted to see the fruits of piety in them all during their youth.

He always preached extemporaneously, and, until he was upwards of seventy, without noting down the heads of his discourse. After that time, he commonly wrote the divisions on small slips of paper, which, as they occasionally appeared beyond the leaves of the Bible that he held in his hand, his parishioners called, “Mr. Edwards’s thumb papers.” Apologizing for this one day to one of his pupils, he remarked to him, that he found his memory beginning to fail, but that he thought his judgment as sound as ever; and this was likewise the opinion of his people, till near the close of his life. He is known to have written out but a single sermon, which was preached at the general election, in 1732, and was published. It is a solemn and faithful application of the doctrine of a general judgment to his hearers, particularly as legislators and magistrates. As he lived till within a few months of his son’s decease, the latter often visited his father, and preached in his desk. It was the customary remark of the people, that “although Mr. Edwards was perhaps the more learned man, and more animated in his manner, yet Mr. Jonathan was the deeper preacher.”

His influence over his congregation was commanding, and was steadily exerted on the side of truth and righteousness. When he knew of any division among them, he went immediately to see that the parties were reconciled; and when he heard of any improper conduct on the part of any individuals, it was his uniform custom to go and reprove them. Under his preaching, the gospel was attended with a regular, uniform efficacy, and in frequent instances, with revivals of religion, yet no record is preserved of the actual admissions to the church. From some of the family letters, evidence appears of a revival of religion existing in 1715 and 1716; during which Mrs. Edwards, and two of her daughters, made a profession of their christian faith; and several others of the family are spoken of, as “travelling towards Zion, with their faces thitherward.” His son observes, in 1737, that he had known of no parish in the west of New England, except Northampton, which had as often been favoured with revivals of religion, as that of his father.

During the whole of his ministry, he was regarded by his people with great respect and affection; no symptoms of dissatisfaction having been manifested by them for sixty-three years. In the summer of 1752, on account of his increasing infirmities, he proposed to them the settlement of a colleague; and they actually settled one, the Rev. Joseph Perry, June 11, 1755; but continued his salary until his death, which took place Jan. 27, 1758, when he was eighty-nine years of age.

Mrs. Edwards survived him twelve years; her fourth daughter, Mary, residing with her and watching over the infirmities of age. “From a lady in East Windsor, far advanced in life, I learned,” says Mr. Dwight, “the following facts.—‘Mrs. Edwards was always fond of books, and discovered a very extensive acquaintance with them in her conversation; particularly with the best theological writers. After the death of her husband, her family being small, a large portion of her time was devoted to reading. A table always stood in the middle of her parlour, on which lay a large quarto Bible, and treatises on doctrinal and experimental religion. In the afternoon, at a stated hour, such of the ladies of the neighbourhood ccxias found it convenient, went customarily to her house, accompanied not unfrequently by their children. Her daughter regularly read a chapter of the Bible, and then a passage of some religious author; but was often stopped by the comments of her mother, who always closed the interview with prayer. On these occasions it was a favorite point with the neighbouring females, even with those who were young. to be present; all of them regularly attending when they were able, and many of them, among whom was my informant, dating their first permanent attention to religion from the impressions there made. In this way she was regarded with a respect bordering on veneration, and was often spoken of by Mr. Perry, as one of his most efficient auxiliaries. She died Jan. 19, 1770, in the 99th year of her age, retaining her mental faculties until the close of her life. Her daughter Mary spent many years of her early life at Northampton with Mr. and Mrs. Stoddard; and returning thence to her father’s house, she was the nurse and attendant, and I may almost say, support of her aged parents. She was a woman of most amiable disposition, fine understanding, and uncommon attainments, had read much, and appeared to have made the best improvement of the knowledge that she obtained. [1] She survived her mother six years.”

NO.II. Particulars as to the Life and Death of Mr. Richard Edwards, the grandfather of Jonathan Edwards



A closely written manuscript of ninety-six pages, foolscap 8vo, by the Rev. Timothy Edwards, of East Windsor, and eldest son of Richard Edwards, Esquire, is still preserved, headed, “Some things written for my own use and comfort, concerning the life and death of my very dear and honoured father, Mr. Richard Edwards, late of Hartford, who died April 20, 1718, on the sabbath, in the forenoon, being the ninth day of his sickness, and the 71st year of his age, he being then very near seventy-one years old, having been born in May, 1647.”

The following brief abstract of this account will not be uninteresting to those who respect the memory of departed piety and worth; especially as it is an accurate moral picture of the man who moulded the character of the father and instructor of President Edwards. As far as is consistent with brevity, the language of the original is exactly preserved.

“He was naturally of a strong healthy constitution, well formed and comely, and of uncommon vigour, activity, and nimbleness of body—characteristics, for which he was distinguished until the close of life. He had a clear voice and ready utterance, and expressed himself not only with ease and propriety, but with uncommon energy and effect. He was naturally cheerful, sprightly, and sweet tempered, of a ready wit, had a mind well stored with knowledge, particularly the knowledge of history and theology, and in conversation was uncommonly pleasant and entertaining. He was sober and considerate, a man of great courage, resolution, and perseverance; had a clear and strong understanding, a sound judgment, and a quick, sharp insight into men and things, and was capable of almost any kind of business. He was in the full sense of the phrase a man of business, distinguished for his wisdom and forecast; had uncommon prudence and discretion in the management of his own affairs, and was extensively consulted in matters of weight and difficulty by others.

Though natively quick and warm when provoked or affronted, he had acquired the self-government, which became him as a man and a Christian; though firm and inflexible in the discharge of his duty, he was yet easy to be entreated. He was candid and charitable in his estimate of the conduct of others, kind and affectionate in his feelings, liberal and generous in the use of his property, obliging in his disposition, willing to devote his time and services to the good of his fellow-men, readily forgiving injuries on the slightest acknowledgment, but yielding nothing to pride and haughtiness of spirit. He was uniformly courteous, affable, and easy of access; free and familiar with his children and servants, and with the poorest and humblest of his neighbours; and at the same time tenderhearted and compassionate, easily melting into tears, while witnessing either examples of kindness and generosity, or scenes of affliction and sorrow, and doing what lay in his power to relieve the wants and distresses of others. He had a manly, ingenuous spirit, was accustomed to deal very faithfully and thoroughly with his fellow-men about their faults and miscarriages, and did not fear, on any proper occasion, to tell any man plainly what he saw amiss in his conduct.

He was a sincere and faithful friend, never disappointing those who trusted in him; and it was no difficult thing for any honest man, however humble his circumstances, in a just cause, especially if he was oppressed and unable to defend himself, to secure his friendship. Such confidence, says the writer, have I in my father’s faithfulness, that, under God, I could venture my estate, my good name, and even my life, in the hands of such a friend. In all his dealings with his fellow-men he was eminently just and upright. Though his business was very extensive, and continued through a long life, and though I had the best opportunity of knowing his concerns, I never knew him attempt to wrong any individual, or to do any thing which discovered the least shadow of deceit or dishonesty. On the contrary, he abhorred all base underhand management, scorned all that was little, unfair, and unworthy, and in freedom from dissimulation, hypocrisy, and any design to do wrong, was among those who excel.

“In all the relations of life his character was truly estimable. He was hospitable and courteous to strangers, and charitable to the poor, and was ever ready to sympathize with the afflicted, to plead the cause of the widow and the fatherless, and to help those who wanted both friends and money to help themselves. He was an affectionate, tender, careful husband, one of the best of fathers to his children, a just and kind master, esteemed and beloved by his neighbours, a good and punctual paymaster, and of a credit always unimpeached. He was not only faithful in managing the concerns of others; but equitable, in his demands for services rendered, often indeed rendering them for nothing; just and moderate in his profits, gentle and accommodating towards his debtors, often bearing with them, year after year, if they were poor and honest. He was also merciful to his beast.

He had an excellent spirit of government—having wisdom to govern not only himself, but others—so that he was both feared and loved, by his children, and servants, and all who were under his control. I cannot say that he discovered no infirmities, but they were much outweighed by his virtues.

In the existence and constant presence of God, he appeared not only to believe, but to delight. The fear of God seemed habitually before his eyes, so that probably nothing would have tempted him to do that, which he really thought would offend him. Twice every day he worshipped God in his house, by reading the Scriptures and prayer. Other religious books were read in their season ccxiiin the family, and that to an extent rarely surpassed. His conversation with, and his letters to, his children, were full of religious instruction. He laid great stress on the promises of God to the righteous, and his threatenings to the wicked; fully expecting and looking for the accomplishment of both. He habitually and attentively observed the dispensations of Providence; ever acknowledging with thankfulness his goodness to him and his; and regarding every affliction as an immediate chastisement from God, so that he heard the voice of the rod, and him that appointed it. Rarely does any Christian express so solemn and heart-affecting a sense of the great and awful dispensations of Providence, towards individuals, or towards the world at large.

He hated vice and wickedness, whenever he saw it, and abhorred to justify or make light of sin, whether committed by strangers, or by his own near relatives; always discovering in this respect a just, conscientious, impartial spirit, and appearing to frown upon it even more in his children than in others.

In prayer he seemed to draw very near to God with peculiar solemnity and reverence, with exalted views of his greatness and goodness, and with a supreme regard to his glory. He appeared to cherish an admiring sense of the wisdom, the power, and the goodness of God, in contemplating the works of creation and providence, and the riches of his grace as unfolded in the work of redemption. The truth of God he studied and understood, as well as loved and obeyed.

Few men administered christian admonition and reproof with so much faithfulness, discretion, and solemnity, or with so much success; and few received it with more humility, meekness, and self-application. His feelings of religious subjects were at once strong and tender; often discovering themselves at public worship, in family prayer, and in religious reading and conversation.

He took peculiar care, that his family sanctified the sabbath, and appeared himself conscientiously to keep it holy. On the morning of every sacramental sabbath, he regularly spent a long time alone, in religious retirement. He was abundant in his religious instructions and admonitions to his family, on every proper occasion, and regularly on every sabbath afternoon in enforcing the sermons of the day, and the instructions of the book which was then read. From my own observation of other religious families, with which I have been familiarly acquainted, I have reason to believe that few children, even of christian parents, have been as much counselled and instructed. He loved and honoured the faithful ministers of Christ, for their work’s sake; and was a sincere and hearty friend to his own minister; actively and zealously exciting others to help and befriend him, and resolutely and successfully opposing and bearing down those who arrayed themselves against him.

In his religion he was far from being ostentatious, and the applause of men he regarded as nothing, in comparison with that testimony of a good conscience, which would enable him to appeal to the heart-searching God, for the sincerity and uprightness of his conduct. He appeared to love the real disciples of Christ, for their piety; disregarding the distinctions of sect and party, and receiving all his brethren who were received by Christ.

Though possessed of property, he realized, in an unusual degree, the vanity of worldly good, and placed but a slight dependence upon riches, honours, or pleasures as the means of permanent happiness. Surely, says his son, this world was not my father’s god; his chief good was something better and nobler, than this present world can afford. He appeared habitually sensible of the frailty of his nature, and of the nearness of his own death, often conversing on death and the judgment, in a truly devout and edifying manner, and frequently observing, near the close of life, “I carry my life in my hand every day; I am daily looking and waiting until my change come.” Few Christians, indeed, seem more conversant with their own death, more careful to prepare for it, or more ready to meet it.

In the government of God he seemed habitually to rejoice. His sense of the evil of sin was peculiarly deep; he was patient and submissive under sufferings, was willing to suffer for Christ’s sake, and was free from the fear of death. He appeared to be truly humbled under a sense of his own sins, to mourn over sin, and to wage a constant warfare against it, to love the way of salvation revealed in the gospel, to cherish a sacred regard to the glory of God and the interests of religion, and to entertain exalted views of the character and glory of Christ. Though he never, says his son, gave me an account of his conversion at large; yet on various occasions, in conversation, he has alluded to the great change then wrought in his views and affections, with regard to temporal and spiritual objects, particularly to worldly good, the warfare with sin, the hope of reconciliation to God, and a title to eternal life. He appeared eminently to trust in God, to cherish a deep sense of his dependence, and to lead a life of faith. Though I have now been in the ministry, he adds, nearly four and twenty years, and, during that period, have often had much private conversation with many of the truly pious, I do not remember that I have met with any, who seemed more truly to lead such a life, than my dear father; and to such a life he habitually advised and directed his children, both in his conversation and in his letters. Writing to me on an important subject, he says—“I leave you in this, and all your affairs, to the direction and guidance of the Fountain of wisdom and goodness, who, I doubt not, will guide you into the best and safest course, if you trust in him, and by faith commit your ways to him. Make the glory of God your main end, and depend on him by a lively faith in his promise; for He is faithful who hath promised, that they who wait on him shall not want any good thing—that is, any that is really good for them”—In a letter addressed to me when I was with the army at Albany, [1] then on an expedition to Canada, he thus writes—“I have nothing new to write to you, but merely to revive what I have said formerly, that, since God, in his allwise providence, has called you to this present service, you put your whole trust in him, to carry you through it, who never fails any who put their trust in him. You may expect to meet with difficulties, but still God is all-sufficient—the same God in all places, and in all conditions,—therefore commit yourself wholly to his merciful providence, who is a faithful God to all his people, in all their ways. So I leave you to the blessing, guidance, and keeping of a gracious and faithful God and Father.”—I have cause to say, “Blessed be God, that once I had a father, thus disposed to counsel his children!”

In all affairs of weight and difficulty, he appeared, in an unusual degree, to commit himself to God, to wait on him for direction and for help, to leave the event in his hands, and then to be at peace. He has sometimes told me, says his son, that when his mind has been much agitated in consequence of some great trouble and perplexity, in which he could see no means of help or relief, so that he could get no rest for a great part of a night, it has been his customary course, to cast it entirely on God, and leave it in his hands; and then, said he, I can at once go to sleep.

God was his great refuge in times of trouble, and I have good reason to believe that the declaration in Deut. xxxiii. 27. The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath thee are the everlasting arms—might be applied to him with truth. In the time of health he trusted in God, and strongly relied on his providential care and goodness, to provide for himself and his family. This was peculiarly observable in seasons of affliction and distress. In sickness he stayed himself on God, and looked to the Lord Jesus Christ, to carry him safely through, however it might issue. In the very dreadful mortality in 1711, when great numbers of the inhabitants dies, he was dangerously sick of the distemper; and when the crisis was passed, he gave us the following account of his reflections, during the first night of his sickness: “When I was first taken ill, I concluded that I had the prevailing fever; and was strongly impressed with the belief that I should die of it. During the former part of the night, I felt considerable anxiety respecting it, but in the latter part of it, the ccxiiidisquiet of my mind passed away, and I was willing to leave myself with God. I found myself not so much concerned about the issue of my sickness; but thought I was satisfied that it should be as he pleased.”(This, during his whole sickness, gave him inward peace and rest in God, and comfortably freed him from the terrors of death.

The language of his last will, written near the close of life, strongly exhibits the good man, who trusteth in the Lord, and whose hope the Lord is:(“I, Richard Edwards of Hartford, being weak in body, yet, through God’s goodness, my understanding and memory remaining good, being sensible of my own mortality, and not knowing how suddenly the Lord may put a period to this short life, do therefore make this my last will and testament. And first, I commit my soul into the bosom of my most merciful God and Father, and ever blessed Redeemer, Jesus Christ, hoping for eternal life and salvation through the merits, mediation, and intercession of my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; and my body to the earth, to be buried, nothing doubting but that it shall be raised again, and re-united to my soul, by the mighty power of God, at the last day, and so rest in hopes of a glorious resurrection, through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

The piety and evangelical excellence, which had characterized his life, were even more conspicuous in his last sickness, and at his death.—Towards one whom he regarded as having greatly injured him, he expressed feelings of kindness and good will; and while he declared, that in the review of his conduct towards him, he had peace of conscience, that he could safely die upon what he had done in it, and that under the approach of death, he felt no trouble lying upon his mind, with reference to it, yet he declared he could truly say, he heartily wished him the best good. He took great care that no wrong should be done through mistake, with respect to what had been due, or was still due, to him from others. To one of his neighbours who came and, whispering in his ear, asked his forgiveness, he readily and promptly replied, “I forgive you, I forgive you;” and this so kindly and heartily, that the man was melted into tears. He repeatedly charged his children, on no consideration to take advantage of the law against any, who had mortgaged their lands or estates to him, and whose mortgages were out and their debts unpaid.

When his children came around his bed, weeping at the apprehension of his approaching death, and their incalculable loss, he said to them, “This time I have long expected, this scene I have looked for, and now it is come.” As some of us who lived at a distance came into his sick chamber for the first time, he said, “I can but look upon you, my children, I can’t speak to you; I have a great deal to say, but I can’t say it; God now denies me that liberty.” When I first saw him, (April 16th,) he expressed a hope, that he should meet me with joy, at the right hand of Christ in the great day. Something being said to him, with reference to death, he replied, “Death, indeed, is terrible to nature, but I hope God will strengthen me, and carry me through it, and help me to submit to his will; I lie at the feet of God.”—While he was praying to God by himself, he was overheard to say, “Lord, I come to thee with my naked soul; I desire to bow under thy chastizing hand, and hope it is a good chastisement.” As we sat weeping by his bed-side, April 16th, he said to us,—“Come, children, moderate your grief, for such things must be, and the will of God is best. I freely submit myself to the will of God, whether in life or death, to do with me as he pleases.” He said to me on the 17th,—“Though I seem to be better to-day, yet I am of the opinion that this sickness will be my last; and I am very willing that the will of God should be done, I am not at all anxious about it: I rely on the Lord Jesus Christ; I have chosen him for my Saviour and mighty Redeemer.” On my observing, “This must be a great support, Sir, to your mind;”—he replied, “it is so.” As I was sitting by him on the 17th, I heard him say,—“O my poor, frail, mortal body, methinks, sometimes I should be glad to slip away from thee!” In the midst of most severe pain, he expressed himself very desirous, that God would enable him to bear his afflicting hand, and quietly submit to his will, even to the end; and that he might not at any time, by impatience, be left to sin against him, and for this he desired our prayers, that God would, in this respect, strengthen him more and more; and in a very humble manner, when he had scarce strength to speak, he thus, in a short ejaculation, prayed to God, “O Lord, increase thy grace, and strengthen thy servant’s faith!” During his whole sickness, he appeared to be almost always praying to God; far more than is commonly witnessed on the death-bed of the Christian.

He solemnly exhorted and charged his son John, to carry on the worship of God in his family, after his death. To one of his daughters, he said, as she stood weeping over him, “I must say to you, as Mr. Whiting said to his daughter Sybil, Through wet and dry, through thick and thin, keep steady for that port.” On the 18th, as his good friend Mr. Austin, and myself, sat by him, and we observed him troubled with hiccoughs, one of us remarked that the hiccoughs were very distressing, and he replied, “God must take his own way, and use his own means, and I desire to submit to his holy will, and hope I can do it freely.” He expressed to me his conviction, that it was better for him to depart and be with Christ, than to continue with his family;. On my reminding him, that he had many friends, he replied,—“I know that I have many friends, but there is one Friend that is better than all;” and when one of us spoke of making his bed easy; he replied,—“The favour of Jesus Christ will make my bed easy; the bosom of Jesus Christ is the best resting-place, for a man in my condition.”—To one of my sisters he said, “Weep for yourself, my child, as I have wept for myself, I have laid hold of the rock of ages, I hope my anchor is within the veil;”—and to another, as she observed him in very great pain—“The passage may prove rough, but the shore is safe, and the bottom will hear me.” In reply to a remark of mine, he said,—“I trust in the Lord Jesus Christ, and have ventured my soul upon for eternity, and I desire to do so more and more.” On the night of the 18th, when his distemper was most violent, he expressed his full conviction, that he had chosen God for his portion, and that he would grant him a favourable issue.

He expressed high and honourable thoughts of God, in the midst of his greatest distress. On Wednesday, observing his uncommon patience and resignation under extreme suffering, I was led to remark, that to submit quietly and patiently to the will of God, when sorely afflicted by him, was one of the hardest lessons a Christian had to learn. His reply was striking and affecting:—“Alas! there is no room nor cause to complain of God, for he is infinitely good, yea goodness itself, and the fountain of it; I should be very ungrateful indeed, if I should complain of him who has been so good to me all my days.”

On Saturday, the 19th of April, and the last day but one of his life, when he lay rattling in his throat, much oppressed for want of breath, and in great pain, so that he seemed to me to be in the very pangs of death, he expressed some fear that he might lie long in that condition, and so endure great pain and misery before he died, and therefore seemed to desire that God would mercifully shorten the time of his sufferings, by taking him quickly out of the world. Mrs. Talcot said to him, “But you are willing to wait God’s time:”—to which he replied,—“O yes, O yes.” At a time when he appeared to be fast sinking, Major Talcot informed him, that he was ready to think death was upon him, he was so very low; and I added,—“I hope that God will never leave you nor forsake you:”—with great readiness, and with an air of much inward satisfaction, he replied,—“I don’t fear it, I don’t fear it!”—When he was hardly able to speak, he told me, in answer to a question, that—his hope of eternal life, through the infinite mercy of God in Jesus Christ, was still firm; that he trusted all would be well with him in a short time, and that then he should think of his present afflictions and sufferings with pleasure!—In the former part of the night, he told us that he was comforted with the hope of going to heaven. On my asking him if he did not wish to recover, he replied:—“To recover! No; I am better as I am, I have no desire to go back, I have left myself with God!”—In the latter part of the night, having lain down for a little sleep, I was called up, as he appeared to be ccxivdying. I asked him if his hope of salvation continued. He said—“Yes.”—I asked him whether he still had good thoughts of God, and he replied—“Yes, Yes!”—In the morning of the sabbath, a few hours before his death, I went to him, and told him, I would make one more prayer with him, if he thought he could attend; he was only able to say—“Yes”—and at the same time nodded his head; and, when it was concluded, gave me the same sign, that he had been able to understand and unite with me. In the prayer, I spoke of him as dying; and expressing my hope to him afterwards, that he was going to keep sabbath with saints and angels in heaven, and inquiring whether he had that hope to sustain him, he gave me the customary sign that such was the fact.

In this manner he lived and died, glorifying God both in his life and in his death, and leaving behind him that good name, which is better than precious ointment.”

NO.III. Account of the Children of Timothy and Esther Edwards.



The following particular statement of the children of Timothy and Esther Edwards, will probably interest some readers.

1. Esther, born in 1695; married Rev. Samuel Hopkins of West Springfield. They had several children: Hannah, married in 1740, to Hon. John Worthington, L.L.D. of Springfield. They had two sons, who died in infancy; and four daughters: Mary, who married Hon. Jonathan Bliss, chief justice of the province of New Brunswick; Hannah, who married Hon. Thomas Dwight of Springfield; Frances, who married Hon. Fisher Ames, L.L.D.; and Sophia, who married John Williams, Esq. of Weathersfield.

2. Elizabeth, born 1697; married Col. Jabez Huntington of Windham. They had four daughters: 1. Jerusha, married Dr. Clark of Lebanon. 2. Sarah, married Hezekiah Wetmore of Middletown, and had two children; and after his death married Samuel Beers of Stratford, and had three children: Lucy, married to George Smith of Smith-town, L. Island; Sarah Anne, married David Burr, Esq. of Fairfield; and William Pitt Beers, Esq. of Albany, who married Anne, daughter of Hon. Jonathan Sturges of Fairfield. 3. Elizabeth, married Rev. Abraham Davenport of Stamford, and had two children; Hon. Jon. Davenport, M.C. and Hon. James Davenport, a judge of the supreme court of Connecticut.

3. Anne, born in 1699, married John Ellworth, Esq. of East Windsor, and died in 1798, aged 99. They had four children: 1. John, born Aug. 24, 1735, and had five children; 2. Solomon, born April 3, 1737, and had twelve children; 3. Frederick; 4. Anne, who married Mr. John Stoughton of East Windsor, and had six children.

4. Mary, born in 1701, and died single, Sept. 17, 1776, in the 76th year of her age.

5. Jonathan, the subject of the present Memoir. For his children, see Appendix, No. VI.

6. Eunice, born in 1706, married, in Oct., 1729, Rev. Simon Backus of Newington, who went as chaplain of the Connecticut troops to Louisburg, in 1745, and died there in 1746. They had seven children: 1. Unknown. 2. Eunice, born in 1732, died unmarried aged 75. 3. Elizabeth, born in 1734, married David Bissell of East Windsor. They had two children. 4. Esther, married Benjamin Ely of West Springfield, and had fourteen children. 5. Rev. Simon Backus, A.B. of Yale, in 1759, married Rachel Moseley of East Haddam, and had nine children. 6. Jerusha, married Mr. Smith Bailey, and had four children. 7. Mary, died unmarried.

7. Abigail, born in 1708; married William Metcalf, Esq. of Lebanon, and A.B. of Harvard college. She died in 1754. They had five children: 1. Abigail, married Moses Bliss, Esq. of Springfield, and had eight children, Hon. George Bliss, Moses, William Metcalf, Lucy, married Dr. Hezekiah Clark of Lebanon, Abigail, married Hon. William Ely of Springfield, Frances, married Rev. William Rowland of Windsor, Emily, and Harriet. 2. William, and 3. Eliphalet, who died young. 4. Lucy, who married Mr. John Huntington of East Haddam, and had seven children. 5. Eliphalet, born Dec. 6, 1748, married Mary West of Lebanon.

8. Jerusha, born in 1710 and died Dec. 22, 1729, aged about 19 years.

9. Hannah, born in 1712, and married Seth Wetmore, Esq. of Middletown, Conn.

10. Lucy, born in 1715, and died unmarried in East Windsor, Aug. 21, 1736, aged 21.

11. Martha, born in 1716, married Rev. Moses Tuthill of Granville, Mass. and died Feb. 1794, aged 77.

NO.IV. Remarks in Mental Philosophy. The Mind.



There are four distinct series of these manuscript Notes or Remarks, which from the handwriting, as well as from other evidence, were obviously commenced by him during his collegiate life, and as nearly as can be judged in the following order. The first, entitled ”The Mind,“ is a brief collection of discussions and remarks in mental philosophy. The second is without a title, and consists of ”Notes on Natural Science.“ The third is entitled ”Notes on the Scriptures.“ The fourth is entitled, ”Miscellanies.“ and consists chiefly of observations on the doctrines of the Scriptures. The two last he continued through life.

The following series of remarks, entitled “The Mind.” appears to have been composed either during, or soon after, his perusal of Locke’s Essay on the Human Understanding.


Title. The Natural History of the Mental World, or of the Internal World: being a Particular Inquiry into the Nature of the Human Mind, with respect to both its Faculties—the Understanding and the Will—and its various Instincts, and Active and Passive Powers.

Introduction. Concerning the two worlds—the External and the Internal: the External, the subject of Natural Philosophy; the Internal, our own Minds. How the ccxvKnowledge of the latter is, in many respects, the most important. Of what great use the true knowledge of this is; and of what dangerous consequence errors, here, are more than in the order.

Subjects to be handled in the Treatise on the Mind.

1. Concerning the difference between Pleasure and Pain, and Ideas, or the vast difference between the Understanding and the Will.

2. Concerning Prejudices; the influence of Prejudice to cloud the mind. The various sorts of prejudices in particular, and how they come to cloud the mind; particularly Prejudices of Interest—the true reason why they cloud the judgment.—Prejudices of Education and Custom. Their universal influence on wise, and learned, and rational, as well as other men; demonstrated from fact and experience—of their insensible influence, how it is insensible on great men.—How difficultly a people are got out of their old customs. In husbandry, how difficult to persuade that a new way is better.—Another prejudice is the general cry, and fashion, and vogue, of an age. Its exceeding strong influence, like a strong stream, that carries all that way. This influence on great men, Prejudices of People, in favour of individual great men, to the contempt of others.—Again, the voice of men in power, riches, or honourable place.—How some Churches would laugh at their ceremonies, if they were without them.—How a man’s being rich, or in high place, gives great weight to his word.—How much more weighty a man’s sayings are, after he becomes a Bishop, than before—another prejudice is from ridicule, or an high, strong, overbearing, contemptuous style.

3. Either after or before this, to have a dissertation concerning the exceeding vanity, blindness, and weakness of the mind of man.—What poor fallible creatures men are. How every man is insensible of his own; thinks himself best.—Concerning the Pride of men; how ready to think they shall be great men, and to promise themselves great things.

4. How some men have Strong Reason, but not Good Judgment.

5. Concerning Certainty and Assurance. How many things that are demonstrations in themselves, are not demonstrations to men, and yet are strong arguments; no more demonstrations than a boy may have, that a cube of two inches may be cut into eight cubes of one inch, for want of proper clearness, and full comprehension of the ideas. How assurance is capable of infinite degrees.—How none have such a degree, but that it might be heightened—even of that, that two and two make four. It may be increased by a stronger sight, or a greater clearness of ideas. Minds of clearer and stronger sight may be more assured of it, than those of more obscure vision. There may be beings of a thousand times stronger sight than we are. How God’s sight only is infinitely clear and strong. That which is demonstration at one time, may be only probable reasoning at another, by reason of different degrees of clearness and comprehension. It is almost impossible, that a long demonstration should beget so great assurance as a short one; because many ideas cannot be so clearly comprehended at one time, as a few. A very long demonstration may beget assurance, by a particular examination of each link of the chain, and so by recollection, that we were very careful and assured in the time of it; but this is less immediate, and less clear.

6. Why it is proper for Orators and Preachers to move the Passions—needful to show earnestness, &c. how this tends to convince the judgment, and many other ways is good and absolutely necessary.

7. Of the nature of the Affections or Passions—how only strong and lively exercises of the Will, together with the effect on the Animal nature.

8. In treating oh Human Nature, treat first of Being in general, and show what in Human Nature, necessarily existing from the nature of Entity. And then, concerning Perceiving or Intelligent Beings, in particular, and show what arises from the nature of such. And then Animal Nature, and what from that.

9. Concerning Enthusiasm, Inspiration, Grace, &c.

10. Concerning a two-fold ground of Assurance of the Judgment—a reducing things to an Identity or Contradiction, as in Mathematical demonstrations,—and by a natural, invincible inclination to a connexion, as when we see any Effect to conclude a Cause—an opposition to believe a thing can begin without a Cause. This is not the same with the other, and cannot be reduced to a contradiction.

11. Difference between Natural Appetites and Rational Desires.

12. Whether any difference between the Will and Inclination. Imperate acts of the Will, nothing but the prevailing Inclination, concerning what should be done that moment. So hath God ordained that the motions of the Body should follow that.

13. Concerning the Influence which Nearness, or Remoteness, of Time has in Determining the Will, and the Reason of it.

14. Concerning Speculative Understanding, and Sense of Heart. Whether any difference between the Sense of the Heart, and the Will or Inclination. How the Scriptures are ignorant of the Philosophic distinction of the Understanding, and the Will; and how the Sense of the Heart is there called Knowledge, or Understanding.

15. Of what nature are Ideas of what is Internal or Spiritual. How they are the same thing over again.

16. Concerning Liberty, wherein it consists.

17. Concerning the prime and proper foundation of Blame.

18. How far men may be to blame for their Judgments; or for Believing, or Not Believing, this or that.

19. Concerning great Prejudices from the ambiguous and equivocal use of Words—such as Liberty, Force, Power, &c. How from this many things seem to be, and are called, Natural Notions, that are not so.

20. Concerning Beauty and Deformity, Love and Hatred, the nature of Excellency or Virtue, &c.

21. Whether or no Self-Love be the ground of all Love.

22. Concerning the Corruption of Man’s Nature. How it comes to be corrupt. What is the positive cause of corruption.

23. How greatly things lose their influence on the mind, through persons being used to them; as Miracles, and the Evidence of the Being of God, which we daily behold. The greatest Demonstrations—most plain and direct Proofs. Use makes things fail of their influence on the Understanding, so on the Will and Affections—things most satisfying and convincing—things otherwise most moving.

24. Consider of what nature is that inward sensation, that a man has when he Almost thinks of a thing—a name or the like—when we say it is at our tongue’s end.

25. Concerning Moral Sense: what Moral Sense is Natural.

26. How Natural men have a taste of, and Delight in, that External Beauty, that is a resemblance to Love.

27. Sensitive Appetites: How far they consist in some Present Pain, attended with the idea of Ease, habitually connected, or associated, with the idea of such an object—Whether the sight of Food excites the appetite of one who is hungry, any other way.

By what means persons come to long after a particular thing; either from an idea of Pleasure, or the Removal of Pain, associated.

Not immediately after the Thing itself, but only the pleasure, or the removal of pain.

28. Judgment. Wherein an Act of the judgment consists, or an Assent to a thing as true, or a Dissent from it as false. Show it to be different from mere Perception such as is in the mere presence of an idea in the mind: and so not the Perception of the Agreement and Disagreement of Ideas.

29. Sensation. How far all acts of the mind are from Sensation. All ideas begin from thence; and there never can be any idea, thought, or act of the mind, unless the mind first received some ideas from Sensation, or some other way equivalent, wherein the mind is wholly passive in receiving them.

30. Separate State. How far the Soul, in a Separate ccxvi State, must depend on Sensation, or some way of passively receiving ideas equivalent to Sensation, in order to conversing with other minds, to the knowing of any occurrence, to beholding any of the works of God, and to its further improvement in knowledge.

31. Sensation. Whether all ideas, wherein the mind is merely passive, and which are received immediately without any dependence on Reflexion, are not ideas of Sensation, or External ideas? Whether there be any difference between these? Whether it be possible for the Soul of man, in this manner, to be originally, and without dependence on Reflexion, capable of receiving any other ideas than those of sensation, or something equivalent, and so some external idea? And whether the first ideas of the angels, must not be of some such kind?

32. Angels. Separate Spirits. How far the Angels and Separate Spirits, being in some respects in place, in the Third Heaven, where the body of Christ is; their removing from place to place; their coming down from Heaven, then ascending to Heaven; their being with Christ at the Day of Judgment; their seeing bodies; their beholding the Creation of the Material Universe; their having, in their ministry, to do with the bodies of men, with the body of Christ, and other material things; and their seeing God’s works of Providence, relating to the Material Universe;—how far these things necessarily imply, that they have some kind of Sensations like ours; and, Whether these things do not show that, by some laws or other, they are united to some kind of Matter?

33. Concerning the great Weakness and Fallibility of the Human Mind, in its present state.

34. Concerning Beauty.

35. How the Affections will suggest words, and expressions, and thoughts, and make eloquent.

36. The manifest analogy between the Nature of the Human Soul and the Nature of other things. How Laws of nature take place alike. How it is Laws, that constitute all permanent being, in created things, both corporeal and spiritual.

37. Wherein there is an agreement between Men and Beasts. How many things, in Men, are like instincts in Brutes.

38. Whether the mind perceives more than One object at a time.

39. How far the mind may perceive, without adverting to what it perceived; as in the winking of the eyelids, and many other like things.

40. How far there may be Acts of the Will, without our adverting to it; as in walking, the act of the will for each individual step, and the like.

41. The agreement between Objects of Sight, and Objects of Feeling; or Visible Magnitude and Figure, and Tangible Magnitude and Figure, as to Number and Proportion.

42. How far Imagination is unavoidable, in all Thinking; and Why?

43. Connexion of Ideas. Concerning the Laws by which Ideas follow each other, or call up one another, in which one thing comes into the mind after another, in the course of our thinking. How far this is owing to the Association of ideas; and how far, to any Relation of Cause and Effect, or any other Relation. And whether the whole may not be reduced to these following: Association of Ideas; Resemblance of some kind; and that Natural Disposition in us, when we see any thing being to be, to suppose it owing to a Cause.—Observe how these laws, by which one idea suggests and brings in another, are a kind of mutual attraction of ideas.—Concerning the importance, and necessity, of this mutual attraction and adhesion of ideas—how rarely our minds would serve us, if it were not for this. How the mind would be without ideas, except as suggested by the Senses. How far Reasoning, Contemplation, &c. depend on this.

44. How far the Love of Happiness is the same with the Faculty of the Will? It is not distinct from the mere Capacity of enjoying and suffering, and the Faculty of the Will is no other.

45. Whether it be possible for a man to love any thing better than himself; and in what sense it is so.

46. Example. To inquire, What are the true reasons of so strong an inclination, in mankind, to follow Example. How great its influence over men, in their opinions, their judgment, their taste, and the whole man. How by this means, at certain times, a particular thing will come to be in great vogue, and men’s passions will all, as it were, be moved at once, as the trees in the wood, by the same wind, or as things floating with the tide, the same way. Men follow one another like a flock of sheep. How sometimes the vogue lasts an age; at other times, but a short time; and the reason of this difference.

47. In what respects men may be, and often are, ignorant of their own hearts; and how this comes to pass.

48. Concerning the Soul’s Union with the Body, its Laws, and Consequences.

49. One section, particularly to show wherein Men differ from Beasts.

50. In how many respects the very Being of Created things depends on Laws, or stated methods, fixed by God, of events following one another.

51. Whether all the Immediate Objects of the mind are properly called Ideas; and what inconvenience and confusion arises from giving every Subjective Thought that name. What prejudices and mistakes it leads to.

52. In what respects Ideas, or thoughts, and judgments, may be said to be Innate, and in what respects not.

53. Whether there could have ever been any such thing as Thought, without External Ideas, immediately impressed by God, either according to some law, or otherwise. Whether any Spirit, or Angel, could have any Thought, if it had not been for this. Here particularly explain what I mean by External Ideas.

54. How words came to have such a mighty influence on thought and judgment, by virtue of the Association of Ideas, or from Ideas being habitually tied to words.

55. How far, through Habit, men move their bodies without thought or consciousness.

56. Whether Beauty (Natural and Moral.) and the pleasure that arises from it, in ourselves or others, be not the only object of the Will; or whether Truth be not also the object of the Will. [1]


[12.] Being. It seems strange sometimes to me, that there should be Being from all Eternity: and I am ready to say, What need was there that any thing should be? I should then ask myself, Whether it seems strange that there should be either Something, or Nothing? If so, it is not strange that there should BE; for that necessity of there being Something, or Nothing, implies it.

[26.] Cause is that, after or upon the existence of which, or the existence of it after such a manner, the existence of another thing follows.

[27.] Existence. If we had only the sense of Seeing, we should not be as ready to conclude the visible would to have been an existence independent of perception, as we do; because the ideas we have by the sense of Feeling, are as much mere ideas, as those we have by the sense of Seeing. But we know, that the things that are objects of this sense, all that the mind views by Seeing, are merely mental Existences; because all these things, with all their modes, do exist in a looking-glass, where all will acknowledge, they exist only mentally.

It is now agreed upon by every knowing philosopher, that Colours are not really in the things, no more than pain is in a needle; but strictly no where else but in the mind. But yet I think that Colour may have an existence out of the mind, with equal reason as any thing in Body has any existence out of the mind, beside the very substance of the body itself, which is nothing but the Divine ccxviipower, or rather the Constant Exertion of it. For what idea is that, which we call by the name of Body? I find Colour has the chief share in it. “Tis nothing but Colour, and Figure, which is the termination of this Colour, together with some powers, such as the power of resisting, and motion, &c. that wholly makes up what we call Body. And if that, which we principally mean by the thing itself, cannot be said to be in the thing itself, I think nothing can be. If Colour exists not out of the mind, then nothing belonging to Body exists out of the mind but Resistance, which is Solidity, and the termination of this Resistance, with its relations, which is Figure, and the communication of this Resistance, from space to space, which is Motion; though the latter are nothing but modes of the former. Therefore, there is nothing out of the mind but Resistance. And not that neither, when nothing is actually resisted. Then, there is nothing but the Power of Resistance. And as Resistance is nothing else but the actual exertion of God’s power, so the Power can be nothing else, but the constant Law or Method of that actual exertion. And how is there any Resistance, except it be in some mind, in idea? What is it that is resisted? It is not Colour. And what else is it? It is ridiculous to say, that Resistance is resisted. That does not tell us at all what is to be resisted. There must be something resisted before there can be Resistance; but to say Resistance is resisted, is ridiculously to suppose Resistance, before there is any thing to be resisted. Let us suppose two globes only existing, and no mind. There is nothing there, ex confesso, but Resistance. That is, there is such a Law, that the space within the limits of a globular figure shall resist. Therefore, there is nothing there but a power, or an establishment. And if there be any Resistance really out of the mind, one power and establishment must resist another establishment and law of Resistance, which is exceedingly ridiculous. But yet it cannot be otherwise, if any way out of the mind. But now it is easy to conceive of Resistance, as a mode of an idea. It is easy to conceive of such a power, or constant manner of stopping or resisting a colour. The idea may be resisted, it may move, and stop, and rebound; but how a mear power, which is nothing real, can move and stop, in inconceivable, and it is impossible to say a word about it without contradiction. The world is therefore an ideal one; and the Law of creating, and the succession, of these ideas is constant and regular.

[28.] Coroll. 1. How impossible is it that the world should exist from Eternity, without a Mind.

[30.] Coroll. 2. Since it is so, and that absolute Nothing is such a dreadful contradiction; hence we learn the necessity of the Eternal Existence of an All-comprehending Mind; and that it is the complication of all contradictions to deny such a mind.

[34.] When we say that the World, i.e. the material Universe, exists no where but in the mind, we have got to such a degree of strictness and abstraction, that we must be exceedingly careful, that we do not confound and lose ourselves by misapprehension. That is impossible, that it should be meant, that all the world is contained in the narrow compass of a few inches of space, in little ideas in the place of the brain; for that would be a contradiction; for we are to remember that the human body, and the brain itself, exist only mentally, in the same sense that other things do; and so that, which we call place, is an idea too. Therefore things are truly in those places; for what we mean, when we say so, is only, that this mode of our idea of place appertains to such an idea. We would not therefore be understood to deny, that things are where they seem to be. For the principles we lay down, if they are narrowly looked into, do not infer that. Nor will it be found, that they at all make void Natural Philosophy, or the science of the Causes or Reasons of corporeal changes; for to find out the reasons of things, in Natural Philosophy, is only to find out the proportion of God’s acting. And the case is the same, as to such proportions, whether we suppose the World only mental, in our sense, or no.

Though we suppose, that the existence of the whole material Universe is absolutely dependent on Idea, yet we may speak in the old way, and as properly and truly as ever. God, in the beginning, created such a certain number of Atoms, of such a determinate bulk and figure, which they yet maintain and always will, and gave them such a motion, of such a direction, and of such a degree of velocity: from whence arise all the Natural changes in the Universe, for ever, in a continued series. Yet, perhaps all this does not exist any where perfectly, but in the Divine Mind. But then, if it be inquired, What exists in the Divine Mind; and how these things exist there? I answer, There is his determination, his care, and his design, that Ideas shall be united for ever, just so, and in such a manner, as is agreeable to such a series. For instance, all the ideas that ever were, or ever shall be to all eternity, in any created mind, are answerable to the existence of such a peculiar Atom in the beginning of the Creation, of such a determinate figure and size, and have such a motion given it: That is, they are all such, as Infinite Wisdom sees would follow, according to the series of nature, from such an Atom, so moved. That is, all ideal changes of creatures are just so, as if just such a particular Atom had actually all along existed even in some finite mind, and never had been out of that mind, and had, in that mind, caused these effects, which are exactly according to nature, that is, according to the nature of other matter, that is actually perceived by the mind. God supposes its existence; that is, he causes all changes to arise, as if all these things had actually existed in such a series, in some created mind, and as if created minds had comprehended all things perfectly. And, although created minds do not; yet, the Divine Mind doth; and he orders all things according to his mind, and his ideas. And these hidden things do not only exist in the Divine idea, but in a sense in created idea; for that exists in created idea, which necessarily supposes it. If a ball of lead were supposed to be let fall from the clouds, and no eye saw it, till it got within ten rods of the ground, and then its motion and celerity was perfectly discerned in its exact proportion; if it were not for the imperfection and slowness of our minds, the perfect idea of the rest of the motion would immediately, and of itself, arise in the mind, as well as that which is there. So, were our thoughts comprehensive and perfect enough, our view of the present state of the world would excite in us a perfect idea of all past changes.

And we need not perplex our minds with a thousand questions and doubts that will seem to arise: as, To what purpose is this way of exciting ideas? and, What advantage is there in observing such a series? I answer, It is just all one, as to any benefit or advantage, any end that we can suppose was proposed by the Creator, as if the Material Universe were existent in the same manner as is vulgarly thought. For the corporeal would is to no advantage but to the spiritual; and it is exactly the same advantage this way as the other, for it is all one, as to any thing excited in the mind.

[51.] It is hardly proper to say, that the dependence of ideas of sensation upon the organs of the body, is only the dependence of some of our ideas upon others. For the organs of our bodies are not our ideas, in a proper sense, though their existence be only mental. Yet there is no necessity of their existing actually in our minds, but they exist mentally, in the same manner as has been explained. See above, No. 34. The dependence of our ideas upon the organs, is the dependence of our ideas on our bodies, after the manner there explained, mentally existing. And if it be inquired, To what purpose is this way of exciting ideas? I answer, To exactly the same purpose as can be supposed, if our organs are actually existing, in the manner vulgarly conceived, as to any manner of benefit, or end, that can be mentioned.

It is not proper at all, nor doth it express the thing we would, to say that bodies do not exist without the mind. For the scheme will not allow the mind to be supposed determined to any place, in such a manner as to make that proper; for Place itself is mental, and Within and Without are mere mental conceptions. Therefore, that way of expressing, will lead us into a thousand difficulties and perplexities. ccxviii But when I say the Material Universe exists only in the mind, I mean, that it is absolutely dependent on the conception of the mind for its existence, and does not exist as Spirits do, whose existence does not consist in, nor in dependence on, the conception of other minds. We must be exceedingly careful, lest we confound ourselves in these by mere imagination. It is from hence I expect the greatest opposition. It will appear a ridiculous thing, I suppose, that the material world exists no where, but in the soul of man, confined within his skull; but we must again remember what sort of existence the head and brain have.—The soul, in a sense, has its seat in the brain; and so, in a sense, the visible world is existent out of the mind, for it certainly, in the most proper sense, exists out of the brain.

[36.] Things, as to God, exist from all Eternity, alike; that is, the idea is always the same, and after the same mode. The existence of things, therefore, that are not actually in created minds, consists only in Power, or in the Determination of God, that such and such ideas shall be raised in created minds, upon such conditions.

[40.] Since all material existence is only idea, this question may be asked, In what sense may those things be said to exist, which are supposed, and yet are in no actual idea of any Created minds? I answer, they existed only in Uncreated idea. But how do they exist, otherwise than they did from all Eternity, for they always were in Uncreated idea and Divine appointment? I answer, They did exist from all Eternity in Uncreated idea, as did every thing else, and as they do at present, but not in Created idea. But it may be asked, How do those things exist, which have an actual existence, but of which no created mind is conscious?—For instance, the Furniture of this room, when we are absent, and the room is shut up, and no created mind perceives it; How do these things exist?—I answer, There has been in times past such a course and succession of existences, that these things must be supposed to make the series complete, according to Divine appointment, of the order of things. And there will be innumerable things consequential, which will be out of joint, out of their constituted series, without the supposition of these. For, upon the supposition of these things, are infinite numbers of things otherwise than they would be, if these were not by God thus supposed. Yea, the whole Universe would be otherwise; such an influence have these things, by their attraction and otherwise. Yea, there must be a universal attraction, in the whole system of things, from the beginning of the world to the end; and, to speak more strictly and metaphysically, we must say, in the whole system and series of ideas in all Created minds; so that these things must necessarily be put in, to make complete the system of the ideal world. That is, they must be supposed, if the train of ideas be, in the order and course, settled by the Supreme mind. So that we may answer in short. That the existence of these things is in God’s supposing of them, in order to the rendering complete the series of things, (to speak more strictly, the series of ideas,) according to his own settled order, and that harmony of things, which he has appointed.—The supposition of God, which we speak of, is nothing else but God’s acting, in the course and series of his exciting ideas, as if they (the things supposed) were in actual idea.

But you may object, But there are many things so infinitely small, that their influence is altogether insensible; so that, whether they are supposed or not, there will no alteration be made in the series of Ideas. Answer, But though the influence is so small, that we do not perceive, yet, who knows how penetrating other spirits may be, to perceive the minutest alterations. And whether the alterations be sensible, or not, at present, yet the effect of the least influence will be sensible, in time. For instance, Let there be supposed to be a Leaden Globe, of a mile in diameter, to be moving in a right line, with the swiftness of a cannon ball, in the Infinite Void, and let it pass by a very small Atom, supposed to be at rest. This Atom will somewhat retard this Leaden Globe in its motion, though at first, and perhaps for many ages, the difference is altogether insensible. But let it be never so little, in time it will become very sensible. For if the motion is made so much slower, that in a million of years it shall have moved one inch less than it would have done otherwise, in a million million it will have moved a million inches less. So now the least Atom, by its existence or motion, causes an alteration, more or less, in every other Atom in the Universe; so the alteration in time will become very sensible; so the whole Universe, in time, will become all over different from what it would otherwise have been. For if every other Atom is supposed to be either retarded, or accelerated, or diverted; every Atom, however small for the present, will cause great alterations, as we have shown already, of Retardation. The case is the same as to Acceleration; and so as to Diversion, or varying the direction of the motion. For let the course of the body be never so little changed, this course, in time, may carry it to a place immensely distant from what the other would have carried it to, as is evident enough. And the case is the same still, if the motion that before was never so slow is wholly stopped; the difference in time will be immense; for this slow motion would have carried it to an immense distance, if it were continued.

But the Objector will say, I acknowledge it would be thus, if the bodies, in which these insensible alterations are made, were free, and alone, in an Infinite Void; but I do not know but the case may be far otherwise, when an insensible alteration is made in a body, that is among innumerable others, and subject to infinite jumbles among them.—Answer. The case is the same, whether the bodies be alone in a Void, or in a System of other bodies; for the influence of this insensible alteration continues as steadily for ever, through all its various interchanges and collisions with other bodies, as it would if it were alone in an Infinite Void: so that in time, a particle of matter, that shall be on this side of the Universe, might have been on the other. The existence and motion of every Atom, has influence, more or less, on the motion of all other bodies in the Universe, great or small, as is most demonstrable from the Laws of Gravity and Motion. An alteration, more or less, as to motion, is made on every Fixed Star, and on all its Planets, Primary and Secondary. Let the alteration made in the Fixed Stars be never so small, yet in time it will make an infinite alteration, from what otherwise would have been. Let the Fixed Stars be supposed, for instance, before to have been in perfect rest; let them now be all set in motion, and this motion be never so small, yet, continued for ever, where will it carry those immense bodies, with their Systems. Let a little alteration be made in the motion of the Planets, either Retardation or Acceleration; this, in time, will make a difference of many millions of Revolutions: and how great a difference will that make in the floating bodies of the Universe.

Coroll. By this we may answer a more difficult question, viz. If material existence be only mental, than our bodies and organs are ideas only; and then in what sense is it true, that the Mind receives Ideas by the Organs of Sense; seeing that the Organs of Sense, themselves, exist no where but in the Mind?—Answer. Seeing our Organs, themselves, are ideas; the connexion, that our ideas have with such and such a mode of our Organs, is no other than God’s constitution, that some of our ideas shall be connected with others, according to such a settled Law and Order, so that some ideas shall follow from others as their cause.—But how can this be, seeing that ideas most commonly arise from Organs, when we have no idea of the mode of Organs, or the manner of external objects being applied to them? I answer, Our Organs, and the motions in them and to them, exist in the manner explained above.

“Plato, in his ‘Subterranean Cave,’ so famously known, and so elegantly described by him, supposes men tied with their backs towards the Light, placed at a great distance from them, so that they could not turn about their heads to it neither, and therefore could see nothing but the shadows of certain substances behind them, projected from it; which shadows they concluded to be the only substance and realities. And when they heard of sounds made by those bodies, that were betwixt the Light and them, or their reverberated echoes, they imputed them to those shadows which they say. All this is a description of the ccxixstate of those men, who take Body to be the only Real and Substantial Thing in the world, and to do all that is done in it; and therefore often impute Sense, Reason, and Understanding, to nothing but Blood and Brains in us.”


[9.] Space. Space, as has been already observed, is a necessary being, if it may be called a being; and yet we have also shown, that all existence is mental, that the existence of all exterior things is ideal. Therefore it is a necessary being, only as it is a necessary idea, so far as it is simple idea, that is necessarily connected with other simple exterior ideas, and is, as it were, their common substance or subject. It is in the same manner a necessary being, as any thing external is a being.

Coroll. It is hence easy to see in what sense that is true, that has been held by some, That, when there is nothing between any two bodies, they unavoidably must touch.

[13.] The real and necessary existence of Space, and its Infinity, even beyond the Universe, depend upon a like reasoning as the Extension of Spirits, and to the supposition of the reality of the existence of a Successive Duration, before the Universe: even the impossibility of removing the idea out of the mind. If it be asked, If there be Limits of the Creation, whether or no it be not possible that an Intelligent being shall be removed beyond the limits; and then whether or no there would not be distance between that Intelligent being and the limits of the Universe, in the same manner, and as properly, as there is between Intelligent beings and the parts of the Universe, within its limits; I answer, I cannot tell what the Law of Nature, or the Constitution of God, would be in this case.

Coroll. There is, therefore, no difficulty in answering such questions as these, What cause was there why the Universe was placed in such a part of Space? and, Why was the Universe created at such a Time? for, if there be no Space beyond the Universe, it was impossible that it should be created in another place; and if there was no Time before, it was impossible it should be created at another time.

The idea we have of Space, and what we call by that name, is only Coloured Space, and is entirely taken out of the mind, if Colour be taken away. And so all that we call Extension, Motion, and Figure, is gone, if Colour is gone. As to any idea of Space, Extension, Distance, or Motion, that a man born blind might form, it would be nothing like what we call by those names. All that he could have would be only certain sensations or feelings, that in themselves would be no more like what we intend by Space, Motion, &c. than the pain we have by the scratch of a pin, or that the ideas of taste and smell. And as to the idea of Motion, that such a one could have, it could be only a diversification of those successions in a certain way, by succession as to time. And then there would be an agreement of these successions of sensations, with some ideas we have by sight, as to number and proportions; but yet the ideas, after all, nothing akin to that idea we now give this name to.—And, as it is very plain, Colour is only in the mind, and nothing like it can be out of all mind. Hence it is manifest, there can be nothing like those things we call by the name of Bodies, out of the mind, unless it be in some other mind or minds.

And, indeed, the secret lies here: That, which truly is the Substance of all Bodies, is the infinitely exact, and precise, and perfectly stable Idea, in God’s mind, together with his stable Will, that the same shall gradually be communicated to us, and to other minds, according to certain fixed and exact established Methods and Laws: or in somewhat different language, the infinitely exact and precise Divine Idea, together with an answerable, perfectly exact, precise, and stable Will, with respect to correspondent communications to Created Minds, and effects on their minds.

[61.] Substance. [1] It is intuitively certain, that , if Solidity be removed from Body, nothing is left but empty space. Now, in all things whatsoever, that which cannot be removed without removing the whole thing, that thing which is removed is the thing itself, except it be mere circumstance and manner of existence, such as Time and Place; which are in the general necessary, because it implies a contradiction to existence itself, to suppose that it exists at no time and in no place, and therefore in order to remove time and place in the general, we must remove the thing itself: So if we remove Figure and Bulk and Texture, in the general; which may be reduced to that necessary circumstance of Place.

If, therefore, it implies a contradiction to suppose that body, or any thing appertaining to Body, beside Space, exists, when Solidity is removed; it must be, either because Body is nothing but Solidity and Space, or else, that Solidity is such a mere circumstance and relation of existence, which the thing cannot be without, because whatever exists must exist in some circumstances or other, as at some time or some place. But we know, and every one perceives, it to be a contradiction to suppose, that Body or Matter exists without Solidity, for all the notion we have of Empty Space, is Space without Solidity, and all the notion we have of Full Space, is Space Resisting.

The reason is plain; for if it implies a contradiction to suppose Solidity absent, and the thing existing, it must be because Solidity is that thing, and so it is a contradiction to say the thing is absent from itself; or because it is such a mode, or circumstances, or relation, of the existence, as it is a contradiction to suppose existence at all without it, such as Time and Place, to which both Figure and Texture are reduced. For nothing can be conceived of so necessarily in an existence, that it is a contradiction to suppose it without it, but the Existence itself, and those general Circumstances or Relations of existence, which the very supposition of existence itself implies.

Again, Solidity or Impenetrability is as much Action, or the immediate result of Action, as Gravity. Gravity by all will be confessed to be immediately from some active influence. Being a continual tendency in bodies to move, and being that, which will set them in motion though before at perfect rest, it must be the effect of something acting on that body. And it is as clear and evident, that action is as requisite to stop a body, that is already in motion, as in order to set bodies a moving, that are at perfect rest. Now we see continually, that there is a stopping of all motion, at the limits of such and such parts of Space, only this stoppage is modified and diversified according to certain Laws; for we get the idea and apprehension of Solidity, only and entirely, from the observation we make of that ceasing of motion, at the limits of some parts of Space, that already is, and that beginning of motion, that till now was not, according to a certain constant manner.

And why is it not every whit as reasonable, that we should attribute this action, or effect, to the influence of some Agent, as that other action or effect which we call Gravity which is likewise derived from our observation of the beginning and ceasing of motion, according to a certain method? In either case, there is nothing observed, but the beginning, increasing, directing, diminishing, and ceasing of motion. And why is it not as reasonable to seek a reason, beside that general one, that it is something; which is no reason at all? I say, Why is it not as reasonable to seek a reason or cause of these actions, as will in one as in the other case? We do not think it sufficient to say, It is the nature of the unknown substance, in the one case; and why should we think it a sufficient explication of the same actions or effects, in the other. By Substance, I suppose it is confessed, we mean only Something; because of Abstract Substance we have no idea, that is more particular than only existence in general. Now why is it not as reasonable, when we see something suspended in the air, set to move with violence towards the Earth, to rest in attributing of it to the nature of the something that is there; as when we see that motion, when it comes to such limits, all on a sudden cease, for ccxxthis is all that we observe in falling bodies. Their falling is the action we call Gravity: their stopping upon the surface of the Earth, the action whence we gain the idea of Solidity. It was before agreed on all hands, that there is something there, that supports that resistance. It must be granted now, that that Something is a Being, that acts there, as much as that Being, that causes bodies to descent towards the centre. Here is something in these parts of space, that of itself produces effects, without previously being acted upon; for that Being that lays an arrest on bodies in motion, and immediately stops them when they come to such limits and bounds, certainly does as much, as that Being that sets a body in motion, that before was at rest. Now this Being, acting altogether of itself, producing new effects, that are perfectly arbitrary, and that are no way necessary of themselves; must be Intelligent and Voluntary. There is no reason, in the nature of the thing itself, why a body, when set in motion, should stop at such limits, more than at any other. It must therefore be some arbitrary, active, and voluntary Being, that determines it. If there were but one body in the Universe, that always in time past had been at rest, and should now, without any alteration, be set i motion; we might certainly conclude, that some voluntary Being set it in motion, because it can certainly be demonstrated, that it can be for no other reason. So with just the same reason, in the same manner, we may conclude, if the body had hitherto been in motion, and is at a certain point of space now stopped. And would it not be every whit as reasonable to conclude, it must be from such an Agent, as if, in certain portions of space, we observed bodies to be attracted a certain way, and so at once to be set into motion, or accelerated in motion. And it is not at all the less remarkable, because we receive the ideas of light and colours from those spaces; for we know that light and colours are not there, and are made entirely by such a resistance, together with attraction, that is antecedent to these qualities, and would be a necessary effect of a mere resistance of space without other substance.

The whole of what we any way observe, whereby we get the idea of Solidity, or Solid Body, are certain parts of Space, from whence we receive the ideas of light and colours; and certain sensations by the sense of feeling; and we observe that the places, whence we receive these sensations, are not constantly the same, but are successively different and this light and colours are communicated from one part of space to another. And we observe that these parts of Space, from whence we receive these sensations, resist and stop other bodies, which we observe communicated successively through the parts of Space adjacent; and that those that there were before at rest, or existing constantly in one and the same part of Space, after this exist successively in different parts of Space, and these observations are according to certain stated rules. I appeal to any one that takes notice and asks himself, whether his be not all that ever be experienced in the world, whereby he got these ideas; and that this is all that we have or can have any idea of, in relation to bodies. All that we observe of Solidity is, that certain parts of Space, from whence we receive the ideas of light and colours, and a few other sensations, do likewise resist any thing coming within them. It therefore follows, that if we suppose there be any thing else, than what we thus observe, it is but only by way of Inference.

I know that it is nothing but the Imagination will oppose me in this: I will therefore endeavour to help the Imagination thus. Suppose that we receive none of the sensible qualities of light, colours, &c. from the resisting parts of Space, (we will suppose it possible for resistance to be without them,) and they were, to appearance, clear and pure; and all that we could possibly observe, was only and merely Resistance; we simply observed that Motion was resisted and stopped, here and there, in particular parts of Infinite Space. Should we not then think it less unreasonable to suppose, that such effects should be produced by some Agent, present in those parts of Space, though Invisible. If we, when walking upon the face of the Earth, were stopped at certain limits, and could not possible enter into such a part of Space, nor make any body enter into it; and we could observe no other difference, no way, nor at any time, between that and other parts of clear space: should we not be ready to say, What is it stops us? What is it hinders all entrance into that place?

The reason why it is so exceedingly natural to men to suppose that there is some Latent Substance, or Something that is altogether hid, that upholds the properties of bodies, is, because all see at first sight, that the properties of bodies are such as need some Cause, that shall every moment have influence to their continuance, as well as a Cause of their first existence. All therefore agree, that there is Something that is there, and upholds these properties. And it is most true, there undoubtedly is; but men are wont to content themselves in saying merely, that it is Something; but that Something is He “by whom all things consist.”

[25.] The distribution of the objects of our thoughts, into Substances and Modes, may be proper; if, by Substance, we understand, a complexion of such ideas, which we conceive of as subsisting together, and by themselves; and, by Modes, those simple ideas which cannot be by themselves, or subsist in our mind alone.

[38.] Body infinite? If we dispute, whether Body is capable of being Infinite; let us in the first place put the question, Whether motion can be infinite; that is, Whether there can be a motion infinitely swift. I suppose that every one will see, that, if a body moved with infinite swiftness, it would be in every part of the distance passed through exactly at once, and therefore it could not be said to move from one part of it to another. Infinite motion is therefore a contradiction. Supposing therefore a Body were infinitely great, it could doubtless be moved by Infinite Power, and turned round some point or axis. But if that were possible, it is evident that some part of that Infinite Body would move with Infinite Swiftness; which we have seen is a contradiction. Body therefore cannot be infinite.

[21.] Matter thought. It has been a question with some, Whether or no it was not possible with God, to the other properties or powers of Matter to add that of Thought; whether he could not, if he had pleased, have added Thinking, and the power of Perception, to those other properties of Solidity, Mobility, and Gravitation. The question is not here, Whether the Matter that now is, without the addition of any new primary property, could not be so contrived and modelled, so attenuated, wrought, and moved, as to produce thought: but, whether any Lump of matter, a solid Atom, for instance, is not capable of receiving, by the Almighty Power of God, in addition to the rest of its powers, a new power of thought.

Here, if the question be, Whether or no God cannot cause the faculty of thinking to be so added to any parcel of matter, so as to be in the same place, (if thought can be in place,) and that inseparably, where that matter is, so that by a fixed law, that thought should be where that matter is, and only there, being always bound to solid extension, mobility, and gravity; I do not deny it. But that seems to me quite a different thing from the question, Whether Matter can think; or, Whether God can make Matter think; and is not worth the disputing. For if Thought be in the same place where Matter is, yet, if there be no manner of communication, or dependence, between that and any thing that is material; that is, any of that collection of properties that we call Matter; if none of those properties of Solidity, Extension, &c. wherein Materiality consists;—which are Matter or, at least whereby Matter is Matter;—have any manner of influence towards the exerting of Thought; and if that Thought be no way dependent on Solidity or Mobility, and they no way help the matter, but Thought could be as well without those properties; then Thought is not properly in Matter, though it be in the same place. All the properties, that are properly said to be in Matter, depend on the other properties of Matter, so that they cannot be without them. Thus Figure is in Matter: it depends on Solidity and Extension; and so doth Motion; so doth Gravity; and Extension ccxxiitself depends on Solidity, in that it is the extension of the Solidity; and Solidity on Extension, for nothing can be solid except it be extended. These ideas have a dependence on one another; but there is no manner of connexion between the ideas of Perception and Solidity, or Motion, or Gravity. They are simple ideas, of which we can have a perfect view; and we know there is no dependence. Nor can there be any dependence, for the ideas in their own nature are independent and alien one to another. All the others either include the rest, or are included in them: and, except the the property of Thought be included in the properties of Matter, I think it cannot properly be said, that Matter has Thought, or if it can, I see not a possibility of Matter, in any other sense, having Thought.—If Thought’s being so fixed to Matter, as to be in the same place where Matter is, be for Thought to be in Matter; Thought not only can be in Matter, but actually is, as much as Thought can be, in place. It is so connected with the Bodies of men, or, at least, with some parts of their bodies, and will be for ever after the Resurrection.

[65.] Motion. If Motion be only mental, it seems to follow that there is no difference between Real and Apparent motion, or that Motion is nothing else but the change of position between bodies; and then of two bodies that have their position changed, Motion may with equal reason be ascribed to either of them, and the Sun may as properly be said to move as the Earth. And then returns this difficulty. If it be so, how comes it to pass that the Laws of Centrifugal Force are observed to take place, with respect to the Earth, considered as moving round the Sun, but not with respect to the Sun, considered as moving round the Earth?—I answer, it would be impossible it should be so, and the Laws of gravitation be observed. The Earth cannot be kept at a distance from a body, so strongly attracting it as the Sun, any other way than by such a motion as is supposed. That body therefore must be reputed to move, that can be supposed so to do, according to the Laws of Nature universally observed in other things. It is upon them that God impresses that Centrifugal Force.

n.b. This answers the objection that might be raised from what Newton says of Absolute, and Relative, Motion, and that distinguishing property of absolute Circular Motion, that there was a Centrifugal Force in the body moved; for God causes a Centrifugal Force in that body, that can be supposed to move circularly, consistently with the Laws of Motion, in that and in all other things, on which it has a near, or a remote, dependence, and which must be supposed to move in order to the observance of those Laws in the Universe. For instance, when a bushel, with water in it, is violently whirled round, before the water takes the impression, there is a continual change of position between the water and the parts of the bushel; but yet that must not be supposed to move as fast as that position is altered; because if we follow it, it will not hold out consistent with the Laws of motion in the Universe, for if the Water moves, then the bushel does not move; and if the Bushel does not move, then the Earth moves round the bushel, every time that seems to turn round; but there can be no such alteration in the motion of the Earth created naturally, or in observance of the Laws of Nature.

[2.] Place of minds. Our common way of conceiving of what is Spiritual, is very gross, and shadowy, and corporeal, with dimensions and figure, &c. though it be supposed to be very clear, so that we can see through it. If we would get a right notion of what is Spiritual, we must think of Thought, or Inclination, or Delight. How large is that thing in the Mind which they call Thought? Is Love square, or round? Is the surface of Hatred rough, or smooth? Is Joy an inch, or a foot, in diameter? These are Spiritual things, and why should we then form such a ridiculous idea of Spirits, as to think them so long, so thick, or so wide; or to think there is a necessity of their being square, or round, or some other certain figure?

Therefore Spirits cannot be in place, in such a sense, that all, within the given limits, shall be where the Spirit is, and all without such a circumscription, where he is not; but in this sense only, that all created Spirits have clearer and more strongly impressed ideas of things, in one place than in another, or can produce effects here, and not there; and as this place alters, so Spirits move. In Spirits united to bodies, the Spirit more strongly perceives things where the body is, and can there immediately produce effects; and in this sense the soul can be said to be in the same place where the body is. And this law is, that we call the Union between soul and body. So the soul may be said to be in the brain; because ideas, that come by the body, immediately ensue, only on alterations that are made there; and the soul most immediately produces effects no where else.

No doubt that all Finite Spirits, united to bodies or not, are thus in place; that is, that they perceive, or passively receive, ideas, only of created things, that are in some particular place at a given time. At least a Finite Spirit cannot thus be in all places at a time, equally. And doubtless the change of the place, where they perceive most strongly and produce effects immediately, is regular and successive; which is the motion of Spirits.

[31.] From what is said above, we learn, that the seat of the Soul is not in the Brain, any otherwise, than as to its immediate operations, and the immediate operation of things on it. The Soul may also be said to be in the Heart, or the Affections, for its immediate operations are there also. Hence we learn the propriety of the Scriptures calling the soul, the Heart, when considered with respect to the Will and the Affections.

We seem to think in our heads, because most of the ideas, of which our thoughts are constituted, or about which they are conversant, come by the sensories that are in the head, especially the sight and hearing, or those ideas of Reflection, that arise from hence; and partly because we feel the effects of thought and study in our head.

[35.]Seeing the Brain exists only mentally, I therefore acknowledge, that I speak improperly, when I say, the Soul is in the Brain, only as to its operations. For, to speak yet more strictly and abstractly, ‘tis nothing but the connexion of the operations of the Soul with these, and those modes of its own ideas, or those mental acts of the Deity; seeing the Brain exists only in idea. But we have got so far beyond those things for which language was chiefly contrived, that unless we use extreme caution, we cannot speak, except we speak exceeding unintelligibly, without literally contradicting ourselves.—

Coroll. No wonder, therefore, that the high and abstract mysteries of the Deity, the prime and most abstract of all beings, imply so many seeming contradictions.

[32.] Seeing Human Souls and Finite Spirits are said to be in this place or that, only because they are so as to mutual communications; it follows that the Scripture, when it speaks of God being in heaven, of his dwelling in Israel, of his dwelling in the hearts of his people, does not speak so improperly as has been thought.

[4.] Union of mind with body. The Mind is so united with the Body, that an alteration is caused in the Body, it is probable, by every action of the Mind. By those acts that are very vigorous, a great alteration is very sensible; at some times, when the vigor of the body is impaired by disease, especially in the head, almost every action causes a sensible alteration of the Body.

[3.] Perception of separate minds. Our perceptions, or ideas that we passively receive by our bodies, are communicated to us immediately by God, while our minds are united with our bodies; but only we in some measure know the rule. We know that, upon such alterations in our minds, there follow such ideas in the mind. It need, therefore, be no difficulty with us, how we shall perceive things when we are Separate. They will be communicated then, also, and according to some rule, no doubt, only we know not what.

ccxxii [68.] Reason. A person may have a strong Reason and yet not a good Reason. He may have a strength of mind to drive an argument, and yet not have even balances. It is not so much from a defect of the reasoning powers, as from a fault of the disposition. When men of strong Reason do not form an even and just judgment, ‘tis for one of these two reasons: either a liableness to Prejudice, through natural temper, or education, or circumstances; or, for want of a great love to Truth, and of fear of Error, that shall cause a watchful circumspection, that nothing, relative to the case in question of any weight, shall escape the observation and just estimation, to distinguish with great exactness between what is real and solid, and what is only colour, and shadow, and words.

Persons of mean capacities may see the Reason of that, which requires a nice and exact attention, and a long discourse, to explain—as the reason why Thunder should be so much feared; and many other things that might be mentioned.

[16.] Consciousness is the minds’ perceiving what is in itself,—ideas, actions, passions, and every thing that is there perceptible. It is a sort of feeling within itself. The mind feels when it thinks; so it feels when it discerns, feels when it loves, and feels when it hates.

[69.] Memory is the identity, in some degree, of Ideas that we formerly had in our minds, with a consciousness that we formerly had them, and a supposition that their former being in the mind is the cause of their being in us at present. There is not only the presence of the same ideas, that were in our minds formerly, but also, an act of the judgment, that they were there formerly, and that judgment, not properly from proof, but from natural necessity, arising from a Law of nature which God hath fixed.

In Memory, in mental principles, habits, and inclinations, there is something really abiding in the mind, when there are no acts or exercises of them: much in the same manner, as there is a chair in this room, when no mortal perceives it. For when we say, There are chairs in this room, when none perceives it, we mean, that minds would perceive chairs here, according to the Law of Nature in such circumstances. So when we say, A person has these and those things, laid up in his memory, we mean, they would actually be repeated in his mind, upon some certain occasions, according to the Law of Nature; though we cannot describe, particularly, the Law of Nature about these mental acts, so well as we can about other things.

[11.] Personal identity. Well might Mr. Locke say, that Identity of person consisted in identity of consciousness; for he might have said that identity of spirit, too, consisted in the same consciousness; for a mind or spirit is nothing else but consciousness, and what is included in it. The same consciousness is, to all intents and purposes, individually, the very same spirit, or substance; as much as the same particle of matter can be the same with itself, at different times.

[72.] Identity of person is what seems never yet to have been explained. It is a mistake, that it consists in sameness, or identity, of consciousness—if, by sameness of consciousness, be meant, having the same ideas hereafter, that I have now, with a notion or apprehension that I had had them before; just in the same manner as I now have the same ideas, that I had in time past, by memory. It is possible, without doubt, in the nature of things, for God to annihilate me, and after my annihilation to create another being that shall have the same ideas in his mind that I have, and with the like apprehension that he had had them before, in like manner as a person has by memory; and yet I be in no way concerned in it, having no reason to fear what that being shall suffer, or to hope for what he shall enjoy.—Can any one deny, that it is possible, after my annihilation, to create two beings in the Universe, both of them having my ideas communicated to them, with such a notion of their having had them before, after them manner of memory, and yet be ignorant one of another; and, in such case, will any one say, that both these are one and the same person, as they must be, if they are both the same person with me. It is possible there may be two such beings, each having all the ideas that are now in my mind, in the same manner that I should have by memory, if my own being were continued; and yet these two beings not only be ignorant one of another, but also be in a very different state, one in a state of enjoyment and pleasure, and the other in a state of great suffering and torment. Yea, there seems to be nothing of impossibility in the Nature of things, but that the Most High could, if he saw fit, cause there to be another being, who should begin to exist in some distant part of the Universe, with the same ideas I now have, after the manner of memory: and should henceforward co-exist with me; we both retaining a consciousness of what was before the moment of his first existence, in like manner; but thenceforward should have a different train if ideas. Will any one say, that he, in such a case, is the same person with me, when I know nothing of his sufferings, and am never the better for his joys.

[29.] Power. We have explained a Cause to be that, after, or upon, the Existence of which, or its Existence is such a manner, the existence of another thing follows. The Connexion between these two existences, or between the Cause and Effect, is what we call Power. Thus the Sun, above the Horizon, enlightens the Atmosphere. So we say the Sun has power to enlighten the Atmosphere. That is, there is such a connexion between the Sun, being above the Horizon, after such a manner, and the Atmosphere being enlightened, that one always follows the other. So the Sun has power to melt wax: That is, the Sun and wax so existing, the melting of the wax follows. There is a connexion between one and the other. So Man has power to do this or that: That is, if he exists after such a manner, there follows the existence of another thing: if he wills this or that, it will be so. God has power to do all things, because there is nothing but what follows upon his willing of it. When Intelligent beings are said to have power to do this or that; by it is meant, the Connexion between this or that, upon this manner of their existing, their willing: in which sense they have power to do many things that they never shall will.

Coroll. Hence it follows, that men, in a very proper sense, may be said to have power to abstain from sin, and to repent, to do good works and to live holily; because it depends on their Will.

[59.] Judgment. The mind passes a judgment, in multitudes of cases, where it has learned to judge by perpetual experience, not only exceedingly quick, as soon as one thought can follow another, but absolutely without any reflection at all, and at the same moment, without any time intervening. Though the thing is not properly self-evident, yet it judges without any ratiocination, merely by force of habit. Thus, when I hear such and such sounds, or see such letters, I judge that such things are signified without reasoning. When I have such ideas coming in by my sense of seeing, appearing after such a manner, I judge without any reasoning, that the things are further off, than others that appear after such a manner. When I see a globe, I judge it to be a globe, though the image impressed on my sensory is only that of a flat circle, appearing variously in various parts. And in ten thousand other cases, the ideas are habitually associated together, and they come into the mind together.—So likewise, in innumerable cases, men act without any proper act of the Will at that time commanding, through habit. As when a man is walking, there is not a new act of the Will every time a man takes up his foot and sets it down.

Coroll. Hence there is no necessity of allowing reason to Beasts, in many of those actions, that many are ready to argue are rational actions. As cattle in a team are wont to act as the driver would have them, upon his making such and such sounds, either to stop or go along, or turn hither or thither, because they have been forced to do it, by the whip, upon the using of such words. It is become habitual, so that they never do it rationally, but either from force or from habit. So of all the actions that beasts are taught to perform, dogs, and horses, and ccxxiiiparrots, &c. And those, that they learn of themselves to do, are merely by virtue of appetite and habitual association of ideas. Thus a horse learns to perform such actions for his food, because he has accidentally had the perceptions of such actions, associated with the pleasant perceptions of taste: and so his appetite makes him perform the action, without any reason or judgment.

The main difference between Men and Beasts is, that Men are capable of reflecting upon what passes in their own minds. Beasts have nothing but direct consciousness. Men are capable of viewing what is in themselves, contemplatively. Man was made for spiritual exercises and enjoyments, and therefore is made capable, by reflection, to behold and contemplate spiritual things. Hence it arises that Man is capable of Religion.

A very great difference between Men and Beasts is, that Beasts have no voluntary actions about their own thoughts; for it is in this only, that reasoning differs from mere perception and memory. It is the act of the Will, in bringing its ideas into Contemplation, and ranging and comparing of them in Reflection and Abstraction. The minds of Beasts, if I may call them minds, are purely passive with respect to all their ideas. The minds of Men are not only passive, but abundantly active. Herein probably is the most distinguishing difference between Men and Beasts. Herein is the difference between Intellectual, or Rational, Will, and mere Animal Appetite, that the latter is a simple Inclination to, or Aversion from, such and such Sensations, which are the only ideal that they are capable of, that are not active about their ideas: for former is a Will that is active about its own ideas, in disposing of them among themselves, or Appetite towards those ideas that are acquired by such action.

The Association of ideas in Beasts, seems to be much quicker and stronger than in Men: at least in many of them.

It would not suppose any exalted faculty in Beasts, to suppose that like ideas in them, if they have any, excite one another. Nor can I think why it should be so any the less for the weakness and narrowness of their faculties; in such things, where to perceive the argument of ideas, requires neither attention nor comprehension. And experience teaches us, that what we call thought in them, is thus led from one thing to another.

[17.] Logic. One reason why, at first, before I knew other Logic, I used to be mightily pleased with the study of the Old Logic, was, because it was very pleasant to see my thoughts, that before lay in my mind jumbled without any distinction, ranged into order and distributed into classes and subdivisions, so that I could tell where they all belonged, and run them up to their general heads. For this Logic consisted much in Distributions and Definitions; and their maxims gave occasion to observe new and strange dependencies of ideas, and a seeming agreement of multitudes of them in the same thing, that I never observed before.

[66.] Ideas. All sorts of ideas of things are but the repetitions of those very things over again—as well the ideas of colours, figures, solidity, tastes, and smells, as the ideas of thought and mental acts.

[67.] Love is not properly said to be an idea, any more than Understanding is said to be an idea. Understanding and Loving are different acts of the mind entirely; and so Pleasure and Pain are not properly ideas.

Though Pleasure and Pain may imply perception in their nature, yet it does not follow, that they are properly ideas. There is an Act of the mind in it. An idea is only a perception, wherein the mind is passive, or rather subjective. The Acts of the mind are not merely ideas. All Acts of the mind, about its ideas, are not themselves mere ideas.

Pleasure and Pain have their seat in the Will, and not in the Understanding. The Will, Choice, &c. is nothing else, but the mind’s being pleased with an idea, or having a superior pleasedness in something thought of, or a desire of a future thing, or a pleasedness in the thought of our union with the thing, or a pleasedness in such a state of ourselves, and a degree of pain while we are not in that state, or a disagreeable conception of the contrary state at that time when we desire it.

[7.] Genus. The various distributing and ranking of things, and tying of them together, under one common abstract idea, is, although arbitrary, yet exceedingly useful, and indeed absolutely necessary: for how miserable should we be, if we could think of things only individually, as the beasts do; how slow, narrow, painful, and endless would be the exercise of thought.

What is this putting and tying things together, which is done in abstraction? It is not merely a tying of them under the same name; for I do believe, that deaf and dumb persons abstract and distribute things into kinds. But it is so putting of them together, that the mind resolves hereafter to think of them together, under a common notion, as if they were a collective substance; the mind being as sure, in this proceeding, of reasoning well, as if it were of a particular substance; for it has abstracted that which belongs alike to all, and has a perfect idea, whose relations and properties it can behold, as well as those of the idea of one individual. Although this ranking of things be arbitrary, yet there is much more foundation for some distributions than others. Some are much more useful, and much better serve the purposes of abstraction.

[24.] There is really a difference that the mind makes, in the consideration of an Universal, absolutely considered, and a Species. There is a difference in the two ideas, when we say Man, including simply the abstract idea; and when we say, the Human Sort of Living Creature. There is reference had to an idea more abstract. And there is this act of the mind in distributing an Universal into Species. It ties this abstract idea to two or more less abstract ideas, and supposes it limited by them.

It is not every property that belongs to all the particulars included in, and proper to, a Genus, and that men generally see to be so, that is a part of that complex abstract idea, that represents all the particulars, or that is a part of that nominal essence. But so much is essential, which, if men should see any thing less, they would not call it by the name, by which they call the Genus. This indeed is uncertain, because men never agreed upon fixing exact bounds.

[25.] A part, is one of those many ideas, which we are wont to think of together. A whole, is an idea containing many of these.

[47.] the foundation of the most considerable Species or Sorts, in which things are ranked, is the order of the world—the designed distribution of God and nature. When we, in distributing things, differ from that design, we don’t know the true essences of things. If the world had been created without any order, or design, or beauty, indeed, all species would be merely arbitrary. There are certain multitudes of things, that God has made to agree, very remarkably in something, either as to their outward appearance, manner of acting, the effects they produce, or that other things produce on them, the manner of their production, or God’s disposal concerning them, or some peculiar perpetual circumstances that they are in. Thus diamonds agree in shape; pieces of gold, in that they will be divided in aqua regia; loadstones, in innumerable strange effects that they produce; many plants, in the peculiar effects they produce on animal bodies; men, in that they are to remain after this life. That inward conformation, that is the foundation of an agreement in these things, is the real essence of the thing. For instance, that disposition of parts, or whatever it be, in the matter of the loadstone, from whence arises the verticity to the poles, and its influence on other loadstones and iron, is the real essence of the loadstone that is unknown to us.

[41.] As there is great foundation in Nature for those abstract ideas, which we call Universals; so there is great foundation in the common circumstances and necessities of mankind, and the constant method of things proceeding, ccxxivfor such a tying of simple modes together to the constituting such mixed modes. This appears from the agreement of languages; for language is very much made up of the names of Mixed Modes; and we find that almost all those names, in one language, have names that answer to them in other languages. The same Mixed Mode has a name given to it by most nations. Whence it appears that most of the inhabitants of the Earth have agreed upon putting together the same Simple Modes into Mixed ones, and in the same manner. The learned and polished have indeed many more than others: and herein chiefly it is, that languages do not answer one to another.

[42.] The agreement or similitude of Complex ideas, mostly consists in their precise identity, with respect to some third idea of some of the simples they are compounded of. But it there be any similitude or agreement between simple ideas themselves, it cannot consist in the identity of a third idea that belongs to both; because the ideas are simple; and if you take any thing that belongs to them, you take all. Therefore no agreement between simple ideas can be resolved into Identity, unless it be the identity of Relations. But there seems to be another infallible agreement between simple ideas. Thus some Colours are more like one to another than others, between which there is yet a very manifest difference. So between Sounds, Smells, Tastes, and other Sensations. And what is that common agreement of all these ideas we call colours, whereby we know immediately that that name belongs to them. Certainly all colours have an agreement one to another, that is quite different from any agreement that Sounds can have to them. So is there some common agreement to all Sounds, that Tastes cannot have to any Sound. It cannot be said that the agreement lies only in this, that these simple ideas come all by the ear; so that their agreement consists only in their relation they have to that organ. For if it should have been so that we had lived in the world, and had never found out the way we got these ideas we call Sounds, and never once thought or considered any thing about it, and should hear some new simple sound, I believe nobody would question, but that we should immediately perceive an agreement with other ideas, that used to come by that sense, though we knew not which way one of them came, and should immediately call it a Sound; and say we had heard a strange Noise. And if we had never had any such sensation as the Headache, and should have it, I do not think we should call that a new Sound; for there would be so manifest a disagreement between those simple ideas, of another kind from what simple ideas have one with another.

I have thought, whether or no the agreement of Colours did not consist, in a Relation they had to the idea of Space; and whether Colour in general might not be defined, that idea that filled Space. But I am convinced, that there is another sort of agreement beside that; and the more, because there can no such common relation be thought of, with respect to different Sounds. It is probable that this agreement may be resolved into Identity. If we follow these ideas to their original in their Organs, like sensations may be caused from like motions in the Animal Spirits. Herein the likeness is perceived, after the same manner as the harmony in a simple colour; but if we consider the ideas absolutely, it cannot be.

Coroll. All Universals, therefore, cannot be made up of ideas, abstracted from Particulars; for Colour and Sound are Universals, as much as Man or Horse. But the idea of Colour, or Sound, in general cannot be made up of ideas, abstracted from particular Colours, or Sounds; for from simple ideas nothing can be abstracted. But these Universals are thus formed. The mind perceives that some of its ideas agree, in a manner very different from all its other ideas. The mind therefore is determined to rank those ideas together in its thoughts; and all new ideas, it receives with the like agreement, it naturally, and habitually, and at once, places to the same rank and order, and calls them by the same name; and by the nature, determination, and habit of the mind, the idea of one excites the idea of others.

[43.] Many of our Universal ideas are not Arbitrary. The tying of ideas together, in Genera and Species, is not merely the calling of them by the same name, but such an union of them, that the consideration of one shall naturally excite the idea of others. But the union of ideas is not always arbitrary, but unavoidably arising from the nature of the Soul; which is such, that the thinking of one thing, of itself, yea, against our wills, excites the thought of other things that are like it. Thus, if a person, a stranger to the Earth, should see and converse with a man, and a long time after should meet with another man, and converse with him; the agreement would immediately excite the idea of that other man, and those two ideas would be together in his mind, for the time to come, yea, in spite of him. So if he should see a third, and afterwards should find multitudes, there would be a Genus, or Universal Idea, formed in his mind, naturally, without his counsel or design. So I cannot doubt but, if a person had been born blind, and should have his eyes opened, and should immediately have blue placed before his eyes, and then red. Then green, then yellow; I doubt not, they would immediately get into one General Idea—they would be united in his mind without his deliberation.

Coroll. So that God has not only distributed things into species, by evidently manifesting, by his making such an agreement in things, that he designed such and such particulars to be together in the mind; but by making the Soul of such a nature, that those particulars, which he thus made to agree, are unavoidably together in the mind, one naturally exciting and including the others.

[37.] Genus and Species, indeed, is a mental thing; yet, in a sense, Nature has distributed many things into Species without our minds. That is, God evidently designed such Particulars to be together in the mind, and in other things. But ‘tis not so indeed, with respect to all genera. Some therefore may be called Arbitrary Genera, others Natural. Nature has designedly made a distribution of some things; other distributions are of a mental original.

[56.] Number is a train of differences of ideas, put together in the mind’s consideration in orderly succession, and considered with respect to their relations one to another, as in that orderly mental succession. This mental succession is the succession of Time. One may make which they will the first, if it be but the first in consideration. The mind begins where it will, and runs through them successively one after another. It is a collection of differences; for it is its being another, in some respect, that is the very thing that makes it capable of pertaining to multiplicity. They must not merely be put together, in orderly succession; but it’s only their being considered with reference to that relation, they have one to another as differences, and in orderly mental succession, that denominates it Number.—To be of such a particular number, is for an idea to have such a particular relation, and so considered by the mind, to other differences put together with it, in orderly succession.—So that there is nothing inexplicable in the nature of Number, but what Identity and Diversity is, and what Succession, or Duration, or Priority and Posteriority, is.

[57.] Duration. Pastness, if I may make such a word, is nothing but a Mode of ideas. This Mode, perhaps, is nothing else but a certain Veterascence, attending our ideas. When it is, as we say, Past, the idea, after a particular manner, fades and grows old. When an idea appears with this mode, we say it is Past, the idea, and according to the degree of this particular inexpressible mode, so we say the thing is longer or more lately past. As in distance, it is not only by a natural trigonometry of the eyes, or a sort of parallax, that we determine it; because we can judge of distances, as well with one eye, as with two. Nor is it by observing the parallelism or aperture of the rays, for the mind judges by nothing, but the difference it observes in the idea itself, which alone the mind has any notice of. But it judges of distance, by a particular mode of indistinctness, as has been said before. So it is with respect to distance of time, by a certain peculiar inexpressible ccxxv mode of fading and indistinctness, which I call Veterascence.

[65.] I think we find by experience, that when we have been in a sound sleep, for many hours together, if we look back to the time when we were last awake, the ideas seem farther off to us, than when we have only ceased thinking a few minutes: which cannot be because we see a longer train of intermediate ideas in one case, than in the other; for I suppose we see none in neither. But there is a sort of Veterascence of ideas, that have been a longer time in the mind. When we look upon them, they do not look just as those that are much nearer. This Veterascence consists, I think, in blotting out the little distinctions, the minute parts, and fine strokes of it. This is one way of judging of the distance of Visible objects. In this respect, a house, a tree, do not look at a little distance, as they do very near. They not only do not appear so big; but a multitude of the little distinctions vanish, that are plain when we are near.

[53.] Sensation. Our Senses, when sound, and in ordinary circumstances, are not properly fallible in any thing: that is, we mean our Experience by our Senses. If we mean any thing else, neither fallibility nor certainty in any thing at all, any other way, than by constant experience by our Senses. That is, when our Senses make such or such representations, we constantly experience, that things are in themselves thus or thus. So, when a thing appears after such a manner, I judge it to be at least two rods off, at least two feet broad; but I only know, by constant experience, that a thing, that makes such a representation, is so far off, and so big. And so my senses are as certain in every thing, when I have equal opportunity and occasion to experience. And our senses are said to deceive us in some things, because our situation does not allow us to make trial, or our circumstances do not lead us to it, and so we are apt to judge by our experience, in other and different cases. Thus, our Senses make us think, that the Moon is among the clouds, because we cannot try it so quick, easily, and frequently, as we do the distance of things, that are nearer. But the Senses of an Astronomer, who observes the Parallax of the Moon, do not deceive him, but lead him to the truth. Though the idea of the Moon’s distance will never be exercised, so quick and naturally, upon every occasion, because of the tediousness and infrequency of the trial; and there are not so many ways of trial, so many differences in the Moon’s appearance, from what a lesser thing amongst the clouds would have, as there are in things nearer. I can remember when I was so young, that seeing two things in the same building, one of which was twice so far off as the other, yet seeing one over the other, I thought they had been of the same distance, one right over the other. My senses then were deceitful in that thing, though they made the same representations as now, and yet now they are not deceitful. The only difference is in experience. Indeed, in some things, our senses make no difference in the representation, where there is a difference in the things. But in those things, our experience by our Senses will lead us not to judge at all, and so they will deceive. We are in danger of being deceived by our Senses, in judging of appearances, by our experience in different things, or by judging where we have had no experience, or the like.

[19.] Things, that we know by immediate Sensation, we know intuitively; and they are properly self-evident truths: as, Grass is green; The Sun shines; Honey is sweet. When we say that Grass is green, all that we can be supposed to mean by it, is—that, in a constant course, when we see Grass, the idea of green is excited by it; and this we know self-evidently.

[55.] Appetite of the Mind. As all ideas are wholly in the mind, so is all Appetite. To have Appetite towards a thing is as remote from the nature of Matter, as to have Thought. There are some of the Appetites, that are called Natural Appetites, that are not indeed natural to the Soul; as the Appetite to meat and drink. I believe when the Soul has that sort of pain, which is in hunger and thirst, if the Soul never had experienced that food and drink remove that pain, it would create no Appetite to any thing. A man would be just as incapable of such an Appetite, as he is to food he never smelt nor tasted. So the Appetite of scratching when it itches.

[15.] Truth. After all that had been said and done, the only adequate definition of Truth is, The agreement of our ideas with existence. To explain what this existence is, is another thing. In abstract ideas, it is nothing but the ideas themselves; so their truth is their consistency with themselves. In things that are supposed to be without us, it is the determination and fixed mode of God’s exciting ideas in us. So that Truth, in these things, is an agreement of our ideas with that series in God. It is existence; and that is all that we can say. It is impossible that we should explain a perfectly abstract and mere idea of existence; only we always find this, by running of it up, that God and Real Existence are the same.

Coroll. Hence we learn how properly it may be said, that God is, and that there is none else; and how proper are these names of the Deity, jehovah, and i am that i am.

[6.] Truth is The perception of the relations there are between ideas. Falsehood is The supposition of relations between ideas that are inconsistent with those ideas themselves; not their disagreement with things without. All truth is in the mind, and only there. It is ideas, or what is in the mind, alone, that can be the object of the mind; and what we call Truth, is a consistent supposition of relations, between what is the object of the mind. Falsehood is an inconsistent supposition of relations. The Truth, that is in a mind, must be in that mind as to its object, and every thing pertaining to it. The only foundation of Error is inadequateness and imperfection of ideas; for, if the idea were perfect, it would be impossible but that all its relations should be perfectly perceived.

[10.] Truth, in the general, may be defined, after the most strict and metaphysical manner, The consistency and agreement of our ideas with the ideas of God. I confess this, in ordinary conversation, would not half so much tend to enlighten one in the meaning of the word, as to say, The agreement of our ideas with the things as they are. But it should be inquired, What is it for our ideas to agree with things as they are? seeing that corporeal things exist no otherwise than mentally; and as for most other things, they are only abstract ideas. Truth, as to external things, is the consistency of our ideas with those ideas, or that train and series of ideas, that are raised in our minds, according to God’s stated order and law.

Truth, as to abstract ideas, is the consistency of our ideas with themselves. As when our idea of a circle, or a triangle, or any of their parts, is agreeable to the idea we have stated and agreed to call by the name of a circle, or a triangle. And it may still be said, that Truth is, the consistency of our ideas with themselves. Those ideas are false, that are not consistent with the series of ideas, that are raised in our minds, by according to the order of nature.

Coroll. 1. Hence we see, in how strict a sense it may be said, that God is Truth, itself.

Coroll. 2. Hence it appears, that Truth consists in having perfect and adequate ideas of things: For instance, if I judge truly how far distant the Moon is from the Earth, we need not say, that this Truth consists, in the perception of the relation, between the two ideas of the Moon and the Earth, but in the adequateness.

Coroll. 3. Hence Certainty is the clear perception of this perfection. Therefore, if we had perfect ideas of all things at once, that is, could have all in one view, we should know all truth at the same moment, and there would be no such thing as Ratiocination, or finding our Truth. And Reasoning is only of use to us, in consequence of the paucity of our ideas, and because we can have but very few in view at once.—Hence it is evident, that all things are self-evident to God.

ccxxvi [5.] certainty. Determined that there are many degrees of certainty, though not indeed of absolute certainty; which is infinitely strong. We are certain of many things upon demonstration, which yet we may be made more certain of by more demonstration; because although, according to the strength of the mind, we see the connexion of the ideas, yet a stronger mind would see the connexion more perfectly and strongly, because it would have the ideas more perfect. We have not such strength of mind, that we can perfectly conceive of but very few things; and some little of the strength of an idea is lost, in a moment of time, as we, in the mind, look successively on the train of ideas in a demonstration.

[8.] rules of reasoning. It is no matter how abstracted our notions are—the farther we penetrate and come to the prime reality of the thing, the better; provided we can go to such a degree of abstraction, and carry it out clear. We may go so far in abstraction, that, although we may thereby, in part, see Truth and Reality, and farther than ever was seen before, yet we may not be able more than just to touch it, and to have a few obscure glances. We may not have strength of mind to conceive clearly of the Manner of it. We see farther indeed, but it is very obscurely and indistinctly. We had better stop a degree or two short of this, and abstract no farther than we can conceive of the thing distinctly, and explain it clearly: otherwise we shall be apt to run into error, and confound our minds.

[54.] Reasoning. We know our own existence, and the existence of every thing, that we are conscious of in our own minds intuitively; but all our reasoning, with respect to Real Existence, depends upon that natural, unavoidable, and invariable disposition of the mind, when it sees a thing begin to be, to conclude certainly, that there is a Cause of it; or if it sees a thing to be in a very orderly, regular, and exact manner, to conclude that some Design regulated and disposed it. That a thing that begins to be should make itself, we know implies a contradiction; for we see intuitively, that the ideas, that such an expression excites, are inconsistent. And that any thing should start up into being, without any cause at all, itself, or any thing else, is what the mind, do what we will, will for ever refuse to receive, but will perpetually reject. When we therefore see any thing begin to be, we intuitively know there is a cause of it, and not by ratiocination, or any kind of argument. This is an innate principle, in that sense, that the soul is born with it—a necessary, fatal propensity, so to conclude, on every occasion.

And this is not only true of every new existence of those we call Substances, but of every alteration that is to be seen: any new existence of any new mode, we necessarily suppose to be from a cause. For instance, if there had been nothing but one globe of solid matter, which in time past had been at perfect rest; if it starts away into motion, we conclude there is some cause of that alteration. Or if that globe, in time past, had been moving in a straight line, and turns short about at right angles with its former direction: or if it had been moving with such a degree of celerity, and all at once moves with but half that switfness. And it is all one, whether these alterations be in Bodies, or in Spirits, there is in a Spirit, after it is created, let it be an alteration in what it will; and so the rest. So, if a Spirit always, in times past, had had such an inclination, for instance, always loved and chosen sin, and then has a quite contrary inclination, and loves and chooses holiness; the beginning of this alteration, or the first new existence in that Spirit towards it, whether it were some action, or whatsoever, had some cause.

And, indeed, it is no mater, whether we suppose a being has a beginning or no, if we see it exists in a particular manner, for which way of existing we know that there is no more reason, as to any thing in the thing itself, than any other different manner; the mind necessarily concludes, that there is some cause of its existing, more than any other way. For instance, if there is but one piece of mater existing from all eternity, and that be a square; we unavoidably conclude, there is some cause why it is square, seeing there is nothing in the thing itself that more inclines it to that figure, than to an infinite number of other figures. The same may be said as to rest, or motion, or the manner of motion; and for all other bodies existing, the mind seeks a Cause why.

When the mind sees a being existing very regularly, and in most exact order, especially if the order consists in the exact regulation of a very great multitude of particulars, if it be the best order, as to use and beauty, that the mind can conceive of, that it could have been, the mind unavoidably concludes, that its Cause was a being that had design: for instance, when the mind perceives the beauty and contrivance of the world; for the world might have been one infinite number of confusions, and not have been disposed beautifully and usefully; yea, infinite times an infinite number, and so, if we multiply infinite by infinite, in infinitum. So that, if we suppose the world to have existed from all eternity, and to be continually all the while without the guidance of design, passing under different changes; it would have been, according to such a multiplication, infinite to one, whether it would ever have hit upon this form or no. Note—This way of concluding is a sort or ratiocination.

[58.] Reasoning does not absolutely differ from Perception, any further than there is the act of the will about it. It appears to be so in demonstrative Reasoning. Because the knowledge of a self-evident truth, it is evident, does not differ from Perception. But all demonstrative knowledge consists in, and may be resolved into, the knowledge of self-evident truths. And it is also evident, that the act of the mind, in other reasoning, is not of a different nature from demonstrative Reasoning.

[71.] Knowledge is not the perception of the agreement, or disagreement, of ideas, but rather the perception of the union, or disunion, of ideas—or the perceiving whether two or more ideas belong to one another.

Coroll. Hence it is not impossible to believe, or know, the Truth of mysteries, or propositions that we cannot comprehend, or see the manner how the several ideas, that belong to the proposition, are united. Perhaps it cannot properly be said, that we see the agreement of the ideas, unless we see how they agree. But we may perceive that they are united, and know that they belong one to another; though we do not know the manner how they are tied together.

[22.] Prejudice. Those ideas, which do not pertain to the prime essence of things,—such as all colours that are every where objected to our eyes; and sounds that are continually in our ears: those that affect the touch, as cold and heats; and all our sensations,—exceedingly clog the mind, in searching into the innermost nature of things, and cast such a mist over things, that there is need of a sharp sight to see clearly through; for these will be continually in the mind, and associated with other ideas, let us be thinking of what we will; and it is a continual care and pains to keep clear of their entanglements, in our scrutinies into things. This is one way, whereby the body and the senses observe the views of the mind. The world seems so differently to our eyes, to our ears, and other senses, from the idea we have of it by reason, that we can hardly realize the latter.

[18.] Words. We are used to apply the same words a hundred different ways; and ideas being so much tied and associated with the words, they lead us into a thousand real mistakes; for where we find that the words may be connected, the ideas being by custom tied with them, we think the ideas may be connected likewise, and applied every where, and in every way, as the Words.

[23.] The reason why the names of Spiritual things are all, or most of them, derived from the names of Sensible or Corporeal ones—as Imagination, Conception, Apprehend, &c.—is, because there was no other way of making others readily understand men’s meaning, when they first signified these things by sounds, than by giving of them the names of things sensible, to which they had an analogy. ccxxvii They could thus point it out with the finger, and so explain themselves as in sensible things.

[48.] Definition. That is not always a true Definition, that tends most to give us to understand the meaning of a word; but that, which should give any one the clearest notion of the meaning of the word, if he had never been in any way acquainted with the thing signified by that word. For instance, if I was to explain the meaning of the word Motion, to one that had seen things move, but was not acquainted with the word; perhaps I should say, Motion is a things’ going from one place to another. But, if I was to explain it to one, who had never seen any thing move, (if that could be,) I should say, Motion is a Body’s existing successively in all the immediately contiguous parts of any distance, without continuing any time in any.

[20.] Inspiration. The evidence of immediate Inspiration that the prophets had, when they were immediately inspired by the Spirit of God with any truth, is an absolute sort of certainty; and the knowledge is in a sense intuitive—much in the same manner as Faith, and Spiritual Knowledge of the truth of Religion. Such bright ideas are raised, and such a clear view of a perfect agreement with the excellencies of the Divine Nature, that it is known to be a communication from him. All the Deity appears in the thing, and in every thing pertaining to it. The prophet has so divine a sense, such a divine disposition, such a divine pleasure; and sees so divine an excellency, and so divine a power, in what is revealed, that he sees as immediately that God is there, as we perceive one another’s presence, when we are talking together face to face. And our features, our voice, and our shapes, are not so clear manifestations of us, as those spiritual resemblances of God, that are in the Inspiration, are manifestations of him. But yet there are doubtless various degrees in Inspiration.

[21.] The Will. It is not that which appears the greatest good, or the greatest apparent good, that determines the Will. It is not the greatest good apprehended, or that which is apprehended to be the greatest good; but the Greatest Apprehension of good. It is not merely by judging that any thing is a great good, that good is apprehended, or appears. There are other ways of apprehending good. The having a clear and sensible idea of any good, is one way of good’s appearing, as well as judging that there is good. Therefore, all those things are to be considered—the degree of the judgment, by which a thing is judged to be good, and the contrary evil; the degree of goodness under which it appears, and the evil of the contrary; and the clearness of the idea and strength of the conception of the goodness and of the evil. And that Good, of which there is the greatest apprehension or sense, all those things being taken together, is chosen by the Will. And if there be a greater apprehension of good to be obtained, or evil escaped, by doing a thing, than in letting it alone, the Will determines to the doing it. The mind will be for the present most uneasy in neglecting it, and the mind always avoids that, in which it would be for the present most uneasy. The degree of apprehension of good, which I suppose to determine the Will, is composed of the degree of good apprehended, and the degree of apprehension. The degree of apprehension, again, is composed of the strength of the conception, and the judgment.

[60.] Will, Its Determination. The greatest mental existence of Good, the greatest degree of the mind’s sense of Good, the greatest degree of apprehension, or perception, or idea of own Good, always determines the Will. Where three things are to be considered, that make up the proportion of mental existence of own good; for it is the proportion compounded of these three proportions that always determines the Will. 1. The degree of good apprehended, or the degree of good represented by idea. This used to be reckoned by many the only thing that determined the Will.—2. The proportion or degree of apprehension or perception—the degree of the view the mind has of it, or the degree of the ideal perceptive presence of the good in the mind. This consists in two things. (1.) In the degree of the judgment. This is different from the first thing we mentioned, which was the judgment of the degree of good; but we speak now of the degree of that judgment, according to the degree of assurance or certainty. (2.) The Deepness of the sense of the goodness; or the clearness, liveliness, and sensibleness of the goodness or sweetness, or the strength of the impression on the mind. As one, that has just tasted honey, has more of an idea of its goodness, than one that never tasted, though he also fully believes that it is very sweet, yea as sweet as it is. And he that has seen a great beauty, has a far more clear and strong idea of it, than he that never saw it. Good, as it is thus most clearly and strongly present to the mind, will proportionally more influence the mind to incline and will.—3. There is to be considered the proportion or degree of the mind’s apprehension of the Propriety of the good, or of its Own Concernment in it. Thus the soul has a clearer and stronger apprehension of a pleasure, that it may enjoy the next hour, than of the same pleasure that it is sure it may enjoy ten years hence, though the latter doth really as much concern it as the former. There are usually other things concur, to make men choose present, before future, good. They are generally more certain of the good, and have a stronger sense of it. But if they were equally certain, and it were the very same good, and they were sure it would be the same, yet the soul would be most inclined to the nearest, because they have not so lively an apprehension of themselves, and of the good, and of the whole matter. And then there is the pain and uneasiness of enduring such an appetite so long a time, that generally comes in. But yet this matter wants to be made something more clear, why the soul is more strongly inclined to near than distant good.

It is utterly impossible but that it should be so, that the inclination and choice of the mind should always be determined by Good, as mentally or ideally existing. It would be a contradiction to suppose otherwise, for we mean nothing else by Good, but that which agree with the inclination and disposition of the mind. And surely that, which agrees with it, must agree with it. And it also implies a contradiction, to suppose that that good, whose mental or ideal being is greatest, does not always determine the Will; for we mean nothing else, by Greatest Good, but that which agrees most with the inclination and disposition of the soul. It is ridiculous to say, that the soul does not incline to that most, which is most agreeable to the inclination of the soul.—I think I was not mistaken when I said that nothing else is meant by Good, here, but that that agrees with the Inclination and Disposition of the mind. If they do not mean that that strikes the mind, that that is agreeable to it, that that pleases it, and falls in with the disposition of its nature; then I would know, What is meant.

The Will is no otherwise different from the Inclination, than that we commonly call that the Will, that is the Mind’s Inclination, with respect to its own Immediate Actions.

[70.] that it is not Uneasiness, in our present circumstances, that always determines the Will, as Mr. Locke supposes, is evident by this, that there may be an Act of the Will, in choosing and determining to forbear to act, or move, when some action is proposed to a man; as well as in choosing to act. Thus, if a man be put upon rising from his seat, and going to a certain place; his voluntary refusal is an act of the Will, which does not arise from any uneasiness in his present circumstances certainly. An act of voluntary refusal is as truly an act of the Will, as an act of refusal. The Will chooses to neglect: it prefers the opposite of that which is refused.

[39.] Conscience. Beside the two sorts of Assent of the mind, called Will and Judgment, there is a third, arising from a sense of the General Beauty and Harmony of things, which is Conscience. There are some things, which move a kind of horror in the mind, which ccxxviii yet the mind wills and chooses; and some, which are agreeable in this way to its make and constitution, which yet it chooses not. These Assents of Will and Conscience have indeed a common object, which is Excellency. Still they differ. The one is always General Excellency: that is Harmony, taking in its relation to the Whole System of beings. The other, that Excellency which most strongly effects, whether the Excellency be more general or particular. But the degree, wherein we are affected by any Excellency, is in proportion compounded of the Extensiveness, and the Intensiveness, of our view of that Excellency.

[1.] Excellency. There has nothing been more without a definition, than Excellency; although it be what we are more concerned with than any thing else whatsoever; yea, we are concerned with nothing else. But what is this Excellency? Wherein is one thing excellent, and another evil; one beautiful, and another deformed? Some have said that all Excellency is Harmony, symmetry, or Proportion; but they have not yet explained it. We would know, Why Proportion is more excellent than Disproportion; that is, why Proportion is pleasant to the mind, and Disproportion unpleasant? Proportion is a thing that may be explained yet further. It is an Equality, or Likeness of ratios; so that it is the Equality that makes the Proportion. Excellency therefore seems to consist in Equality. Thus, if there be two perfect equal circles, or globes, together, there is something more of beauty than if they were unequal, disproportionate magnitudes. And if two parallel lines be drawn, the beauty is greater, than if they were obliquely inclined without proportion, because there is equality of distance. And if betwixt two parallel lines, two equal circles be placed, each at the same distance from each parallel line, as in Fig. 1, the beauty is greater, than if they stood at irregular















distances from the parallel lines. If they stand, each in a perpendicular line, going from the parallel lines (Fig. 2,) it is requisite that they should each stand at an equal distance from the perpendicular line next to them; otherwise there is no beauty. If there be three of these circles between two parallel lines, and near to a perpendicular line run between them, (Fig. 3,) the most beautiful form perhaps, that they could be placed in, is in an equilateral triangle with the cross line, because there are most equalities. The distance of the two next to the cross line is equal from that, and also equal from the parallel lines. The distance of the third from each parallel is equal, and its distance from each of the other two circles is equal, and is also equal to their distance from one another, and likewise equal to their distance from each end of the cross line. There are two equalateral triangles: one made by the three circles, and the other made by the cross line and two of the sides of the first protracted till they meet that line. And if there be another like it, on the opposite side, to correspond with it, and it be taken altogether, the beauty is still greater, where the distances from the lines, in the cone are equal to the distances in the other; also the two next to the cross lines are at equal distances from the other two; or, if you go crosswise, from corner to corner. The two cross lines are also parallel, so that all parts are at an equal distance, and innumerable other equalities might be found.

This simple Equality, without Proportion, is the lowest kind of Regularity, and may be called Simple Beauty. All other beauties and excellencies may be resolved into it. Proportion is Complex Beauty. Thus, if we suppose that there are two points, A B, placed at two inches distance, and the next, C, one inch farther; (Fig. 1,)

Fig. 1

Fig. 2















it is requisite, in order to regularity and beauty, if there be another, D, that it should be at half an inch distance; otherwise there is no regularity, and the last, D, would stand out of its proper place; because now the relation that the space C D bears to B C, is equal to the relation that B C bears to A C; so that B C D is exactly similar to A B C. It is evident, this is a more complicated excellency than that which consisted in Equality, because the terms of the relation are here complex, and before were simple. When there are three points set in a right line, it is requisite, in order to regularity, that they should be set at an equal distance, as A B C (Fig. 2,) where A B is similar to B C, or the relation of C to B is the same as of B to A. But in the other are three terms necessary in each of the parts, between which is the relation, B C D is as A B C: so that here more simple beauties are omitted, and yet there is a general complex beauty: that is, B C is not as A B nor is C D as B C, but yet B C D is as A B C. It is requisite that the consent or regularity of C D to B C be omitted, for the sake of the harmony of the whole. For although, if C D were perfectly equal to B C, there would be regularity and beauty with respect to them two; yet, if A B be taken into the idea, there is nothing but confusion. And it might be requisite, if these stood with others, even to omit this proposition, for the sake of one more complex still. Thus, if they stood with other points, where B stood at four inches distance from A, C at two from B, and D at six from C: the place where D must stand in, if A, B, C, D, were alone, viz. one inch from C, must be so as to be made proportionate with the other points beneath;


| Ι | Ι | Ι | Ι | Ι | Ι |

| Ι | Ι | Ι | Ι | Ι | Ι | Ι | Ι | Ι | Ι | Ι | Ι


So that although A, B, C, D, are not proportioned, but are confusion among themselves; yet taken with the whole they are proportioned and beautiful.

All beauty consists in similarness or identity of relation. In identity of relation consists all likeness, and all identity between two consists in identity of relation. Thus, when the distance between two is exactly equal, their distance is their relation one to another, the distance is the same, the bodies are two; wherefore this is their correspondency and beauty. So bodies exactly of the same figure, the bodies are two, the relation between the parts of the extremities is the same, and this is their agreement with them. But if there are two bodies of different shapes, having no similarness of relation between the parts of the extremities; this, considered by itself, is a deformity, because being disagrees with being, which must undoubtedly be disagreeable to perceiving being; because what disagrees with Being, must necessarily be disagreeable to Being in general, to every thing that partakes of Entity, and of course to perceiving being; and what agrees with Being, must be agreeable to Being in general, and therefore to perceiving being. But agreeableness of perceiving being is pleasure, and disagreeableness is pain. Disagreement or contrariety to Being, is evidently an approach to Nothing, or a degree of Nothing; which is nothing else but disagreement or contrariety of Being, and the greatest and only evil: And Entity is the greatest and only good. And by how much more perfect Entity is, that is without mixture of Nothing, by so much the more Excellency. Two beings can agree one with another in nothing else but Relation; because otherwise the notion of their twoness (duality) is destroyed, and they become one.

And so, in every case, what is called Correspondency, Symmetry, Regularity, and the like, may be resolved into Equalities; though the Equalities in a beauty, in any degree complicated, are so numerous, that it would be a most tedious piece of work to enumerate them. There are millions of these Equalities. Of these consist the beautiful shape of flowers, the beauty of the body of man, and of the bodies of other animals. That sort of ccxxixbeauty which is called Natural, as of vines, plants, trees, &c. consists of a very complicated harmony; and all the natural motions, and tendencies, and figures of bodies in the Universe are done according to proportion, and therein is their beauty. Particular disproportions sometimes greatly add to the general beauty, and must necessarily be, in order to a more universal proportion.—So much equality, so much beauty; though it may be noted that the quantity of equality is not to be measured only by the number, but the intenseness, according to the quantity of being. As bodies are shadows of being, so their proportions are shadows of proportion.

The pleasures of the senses, where harmony is not the object of judgment, are the result of equality. Thus in Music, not only in the proportion which the several notes of a tune bear one among another, but in merely two notes there is harmony; whereas it is impossible there should be proportion between only two terms. But the proportion is in the particular vibrations of the air, which strike on the ear. And so, in the pleasantness of light, colours, tastes, smells, and touch, all arise from proportion of motion. The organs are so contrived that, upon the touch of such and such particles, there shall be a regular and harmonious motion of the animal spirits.

Spiritual harmonies are of vastly larger extent: i.e. the proportions are vastly oftener redoubled, and respect mere beings, and require a vastly larger view to comprehend them; as some simple notes do more effect one, who has not a comprehensive understanding of Music.

The reason why Equality thus pleases the mind, and Inequality is unpleasing, is because Disproportion, or Inconsistency, is contrary to Being. For Being, if we examine narrowly, is nothing else but Proportion. When one being is inconsistent with another being, then Being is contradicted. But contradiction to Being, is intolerable to perceiving being, and the consent to Being, most pleasing.

Excellency consists in the Similarness of one being to another—not merely Equality and Proportion, but any kind of Similarness—thus Similarness of direction. Supposing many globes moving in right lines, it is more beautiful, that they should move all the same way, and according to the same direction, than if they moved disorderly; one, one way, and another, another. This is a universal definition of Excellency:—The Consent of Being to Being, or Being’s Consent to Entity. The more the Consent is, and the more extensive, the greater is the Excellency.

How exceedingly apt are we, when we are sitting still, and accidentally casting our eye upon some marks or spots in the floor or wall, to be ranging of them into regular parcels and figures: and, if we see a mark out of its place, to be placing of it right, by our imagination; and this, even while we are meditating on something else. So we may catch ourselves at observing the rules of harmony and regularity, in the careless motions of our heads or feet, and when playing with our hands, or walking about the room.

Pleasedness, in perceiving Being, always arises, either from a perception of Consent to Being in general, or of Consent to that Being that perceives. As we have shown, that Agreeableness to Entity must be agreeable to perceiving Entity; it is as evident that it is necessary that Agreeableness to that Being must be pleasing to it, if it perceives it. So that Pleasedness does not always arise from a perception of Excellency; [in general;] but the greater a Being is, and the more it has of Entity, the more will Consent to Being in general please it. Him, become the same; for so far as a thing consents to Being in general, so far it consents to Him; and the more perfect Created Spirits are, the nearer do they come to their Creator, in this regard.

That, which is often called Self-Love, is exceedingly improperly called Love, for they do not only say that one loves himself, when he sees something amiable in himself, the view of which begets delight. But merely an inclination to pleasure, and averseness to pain, they call Self-Love; so that the devils, and other damned spirits, love themselves, not because they see any thing in themselves which they imagine to be lovely, but merely because they do not incline to pain but to pleasure; for pain and pleasure include an inclination to agreeableness, and an aversion to disagreeableness. Now how improper is it to say, that one loves himself, because what is agreeable to him is agreeable to him, and what is disagreeable to him is disagreeable to him: which mere Entity supposes. So that this, that they call Self-Love, is no affection, but only the Entity of the thing, or his being what he is.

One alone, without any reference to any more, cannot be excellent; for in such case, there can be no manner of relation no way, and therefore no such thing as Consent. Indeed what we call One may be excellent because of a consent of parts, or some consent of those in that being, that are distinguished into a plurality some way or other. But in a being that is absolutely without any plurality, there cannot be Excellency, for there can be no such thing as consent or agreement.

One of the highest excellencies is Love. As nothing else has a proper being but Spirits, and as Bodies are but the shadow of being, therefore the consent of bodies one to another, and the harmony that is among them, is but the shadow of Excellency. The highest Excellency therefore must be the consent of Spirits one to another. But the consent of Spirits consists half in their mutual love one to another. And the sweet harmony between the various parts of the Universe, is only an image of mutual love. But yet a lower kind of love may be odious, because it hinders, or is contrary to, a higher and more general. Even a lower proportion is often a deformity, because it is contrary to a more general proportion.

Coroll. 1. If so much of the beauty and excellency of Spirits consist in Love, then the deformity of evil spirits consists as much in hatred and malice.

Coroll. 2. The more any doctrine, or institution, brings to light of the Spiritual World, the more will it urge to Love and Charity.

Happiness strictly consists in the perception of these three things: of the consent of being to its own being; of its own consent to being; and of being’s consent to being.

[14.] Excellence, to put it in other words, is that which is beautiful and lovely. That which is beautiful, considered by itself separately, and deformed, considered as a part of something else more extended; or beautiful, only with respect to itself and a few other things, and not as a part of that which contains all things—the Universe;—is false beauty and a confined beauty. That which is beautiful, with respect to the university of things, has a generally extended excellence and a true beauty; and the more extended, or limited, its system is, the more confined or extended is its beauty.

[62.] As Bodies, the objects of our external senses are but the shadows of beings; that harmony, wherein consists sensible excellency and beauty, is but the shadow of excellency. That is, it is pleasant to the mind, because it is a shadow of love. When one thing sweetly harmonizes with another, as the Notes in music, the notes are so conformed, and have such proportion one to another, that they seem to have respect one to another, as if they loved one another. So the beauty of figures and motions is, when one part has such consonant proportion with the rest, as represents a general agreeing and consenting together; which is very much the image of Love, in all the parts of a Society, united by a sweet consent and charity of heart. Therein consists the beauty of figures, as of flowers drawn with a pen; and the beauty of the body, and of the features of the face.

There is no other way, that sensible things can consent one to another but by Equality, or by Likeness, or by Proportion. Therefore the lowest or most simple kind of beauty is equality or likeness; because by equality or ccxxxlikeness, one part consents with but one part; but by Proportion one part may sweetly consent to ten thousand different parts; all the parts may consent with all the rest; and not only so, but the parts, taken singly, may consent with the whole taken together. Thus, in the figures or flourishes drawn by an acute penman, every stroke may have such a proportion, both by the place and distance, direction, degree of curvity, &c. that there may be a consent, in the parts of each stroke, one with another, and a harmonious agreement with all the strokes, and with the various parts, composed of many strokes, and an agreeableness to the whole figure taken together.

There is a beauty in Equality, as appears very evident by the very great respect men show to it, in every thing they make or do. How unbeautiful would be the body, if the parts on one side were unequal to those on the other; how unbeautiful would writing be, if the letters were not of an equal height, or the lines of an equal length, or at an equal distance, or if the pages were not of an equal width or height; and how unbeautiful would a building be, if no equality were observed in the correspondent parts.

Existence or Entity is that, into which all Excellency is to be resolved. Being or Existence is what is necessarily agreeable to Being; and when Being perceives it, it will be an agreeable perception; and any contradiction to Being or Existence is what Being, when it perceives, abhors. If Being, in itself considered, were not pleasing, Being’s consent to Being would not be pleasing, nor would Being’s disagreeing with Being be displeasing. Therefore, not only may Greatness be considered as a capacity of Excellency; but a Being, by reason of his greatness considered alone, is the more excellent, because he partakes more of Being. Though if he be great, if he dissents from more general and extensive Being, or from Universal Being; he is the more odious for his greatness, because the dissent or contradiction to Being in general is so much the greater. It is more odious for his greatness, because the dissent or contradiction to Being in general is so much the greater. It is more grating to see much Being dissent from Being than to see little; and his greatness, or the quantity of Being he partakes of, does nothing towards bettering his dissent from Being in general, because there is no proportion between Finite Being, however great, and Universal Being.

Coroll. 1. Hence it is impossible that God should be any otherwise than excellent; for he is the Infinite, Universal, and All-comprehending Existence.

2. Hence God infinitely loves himself, because his Being is Infinite. He is in himself, if I may so say, an Infinite Quantity of Existence.

3. Hence we learn one reason, why persons, who view Death merely as Annihilation, have a great abhorrence of it, though they live a very afflicted life.

[63.] Sensible Things, by virtue of the harmony and proportion that is seen in them, carry the appearance of perceiving and willing being. They evidently show at first blush, the action and governing of understanding and volition. The Notes of a tune or the strokes of an acute penman, for instance, are placed in such exact order, having such mutual respect one to another, that they carry with them, into the mind of him that sees or hears, the conception of an understanding and will exerting itself in these appearances: and were it not that we, by reflection and reasoning, are led to an extrinsic intelligence and will, that was the cause, it would seem to be in the Notes and Strokes themselves. They would appear like a society of so many perceiving beings, sweetly agreeing together. I can conceive of no other reason why Equality and Proportion should be pleasing to him that perceives, but only that it has an appearance of Consent.

[64.] Excellency may be distributed into Greatness and Beauty. The former is the Degree of Being; the latter is Beings’ Consent to Being.

[49.] It is reasonable to suppose that the mere perception of Being is agreeable to perceiving Being, as well as Being’s consent to Being. If absolute Being were not agreeable to perceiving Being, the contradiction of Being to Being would not be unpleasant. Hence there is in the mind an inclination to perceive the things that are, or the Desire of Truth. The exercise of this disposition of the soul, to a high degree, is the passion of admiration. When the mind beholds a very uncommon object, there is the pleasure of a new perception, with the excitation of the appetite of knowing more of it, as the causes and manner of production and the like, and the uneasiness arising from its being so hidden. These compose that emotion called Admiration.

[45.] Excellence. 1. when we spake of Excellence in Bodies, we were obliged to borrow the word, Consent, from Spiritual things; but Excellence in and among Spirits is, in its prime and proper sense, Being’s consent to Being. There is no other proper consent but that of Minds, even of their Will; which, when it is of Minds towards Minds, it is Love, and when of Minds towards other things, it is Choice. Wherefore all the Primary and Original beauty or excellence, that is among Minds, is Love; and into this may all be resolved that is found among them.

2. When we spake of External excellency, we said that Being’s consent to being must needs be agreeable to Perceiving Being. But now we are speaking of Spiritual things, we may change the phrase, and say, that Mind’s love to Mind must needs be lovely to Beholding Mind; and Being’s love to Being, in general, must needs be agreeable to Being that perceives it, because itself is a participation of Being in general.

3. As to the proportion of this Love;—to greater Spirits, more, and to less, less;—it is beautiful, as it is a manifestation of love to Spirit or Being in general. And the want of this proportion is a deformity, because it is a manifestation of a defect of such a love. It shows that it is not Being, in general, but something else, that is loved, when love is not in proportion to the Extensiveness and Excellence of Being.

4. Seeing God has so plainly revealed himself to us; and other minds are made in his image, and are emanations from him; we may judge what is the Excellence of other minds, by that is his, which we have shown is Love, His Infinite Beauty, is His Infinite mutual Love of Himself. Now God is the Prime and Original Being, the First and Last, and the Pattern of all, and has the sum of all perfection. We may therefore, doubtless, conclude, that all that is the perfection of Spirits may be resolved into that which is God’s perfection, which is Love.

5. There are several degrees of deformity or disagreeableness of dissent from Being. One is, when there is only merely a dissent from Being. This is disagreeable to Being, (for Perceiving Being only is properly Being). Still more disagreeable is a dissent to very excellent Being, or, as we have explained, to a Being that consents in a high degree to Being, because such a Being by such a consent becomes bigger; and a dissenting from such a Being includes, also, a dissenting from what he consents with, which is other Beings, or Being in general. Another deformity, that is more odious than mere dissent from Being, is, for a Being to dissent from, or not to consent with, a Being who consents with his Being. It is a manifestation of a greater dissent from Being than ordinary; for the Being perceiving, knows that it is natural to Being, to consent with what consents with it, as we have shown It therefore manifests an extraordinary dissent, that consent to itself will not draw its consent. The deformity, for the same reason, is greater still, if there be dissent from consenting Being. There are such contrarieties and jars in Being, as must necessarily produce jarring and horror in perceiving Being.

6. Dissent from such Beings, if that be their fixed nature, is a manifestation of Consent to Being in general; for consent to being is dissent from that which dissents from Being.

7. Wherefore all Virtue, which is the Excellency of minds, is resolved into Love to Being; and nothing is virtuous or beautiful in Spirits, any otherwise than as it is an exercise, or fruit, or manifestation, of this love; and nothing is sinful or deformed in Spirits, but as it is the defect of, or contrary to, these.

8. When we speak of Being in general, we may be understood ccxxxi of the Divine Being, for he is an Infinite Being; therefore all others must necessarily be considered as nothing. As to Bodies, we have shown in another place, that they have no proper Being of their own. And as to Spirits, they are the communications of the Great Original Spirit; and doubtless, in metaphysical strictness and propriety, He is, as there is none else. He is likewise Infinitely Excellent, and all Excellence and Beauty is derived from him, in the same manner as all being. And all other Excellence, is, in strictness only, a shadow of his. We proceed, therefore, to show how all Spiritual Excellence is resolved into Love.

9. As to God’s Excellence, it is evident it consists in the Love of himself; for he was as excellent before he created the Universe, as he is now. But if the Excellence of Spirits consists in their disposition and action, God could be excellent no other way at that time; for all the exertions of himself were towards himself. But he exerts himself towards himself, no other way, than in infinitely loving and delighting in himself; in the mutual love of the Father and the Son. This makes the Third, the Personal Holy Spirit, or the Holiness of God, which is his infinite Beauty; and this is God’s Infinite Consent to Being in general. And his love to the creature is his excellence, or the communication of Himself, his complacency in them according as they partake of more or less of Excellence and beauty, that is, of holiness (which consists in love); that is, according as he communicates more or less of his Holy Spirit.

10. As to that Excellence, that Created Spirits partake of; that it is all to be resolved into Love, none will doubt, that knows what is the Sum of the Ten Commandments; or believes what the Apostle says, That Love is the fulfilling of the Law; or what Christ says, That on these two, loving God and our neighbour, hang all the Law and the Prophets. This doctrine is often repeated in the New Testament. We are told that the End of the Commandment is Love; that to Love, is to fulfill the Royal Law; and that all the Law is fulfilled in this one word, Love.

11. I know of no difficulties worth insisting on, except pertaining to the spiritual excellence of Justice; but enough has been said already to resolve them. Though Injustice is the greatest of all deformities, yet justice is no otherwise excellent, than as it is the exercise, fruit, and manifestation of the mind’s love or consent to Being; nor Injustice deformed any otherwise, than as it is the highest degree of the contrary. Injustice is not to exert ourselves towards any Being as it deserves, or to do it contrary to what it deserves, in doing good or evil, or in acts of Consent or Dissent. There are two ways of deserving our Consent, and the acts of it: (By deserving any thing, we are to understand that the nature of being requires it:) By extensiveness and excellence; and by consent to that particular being. The reason of the deformity of not proportioning our consent, and the exercise of it, may be seen in paragraphs 3 and 5. As to the beauty of Vindictive Justice, see paragraph 6.

12. ‘Tis peculiar to God, that he has beauty within himself, consisting in Being’s consenting with his own Being, or the love of himself, in his own Holy Spirit. Whereas the excellence of others is in loving others, in loving God, and in the communications of his Spirit.

13. We shall be in danger, when we meditate on this love of God to himself, as being the thing wherein his infinite excellence and loveliness consists, of some alloy to the sweetness of our view, by its appearing with something of the aspect and cast of what we call self-love. But we are to consider that this love includes in it, or rather is the same as, a love to every thing, as they are all communications of himself. So that we are to conceive of Divine Excellence as the Infinite General Love, that which reaches all, proportionally, with perfect purity and sweetness; yea, it includes the true Love of all creatures, for that is his Spirit, or which is the same thing, his Love. And if we take notice, when we are in the best frames meditating on Divine Excellence, our idea of that tranquillity and peace, which seems to be overspread and cast abroad upon the whole Earth, and Universe, naturally dissolves itself into the idea of a General Love and Delight, every where diffused.

14. Conscience is that Sense the Mind has of this Consent: Which Sense consist in the Consent of the Perceiving Being, to such a General Consent; (that is, of such perceiving Beings, as are capable of so general a perception, as to have any notion of Being in general;) and the Dissent of his mind to a Dissent from Being in general. We have said already, that it is naturally agreeable to Perceiving Being that Being should consent to Being, and the contrary disagreeable. If by any means, therefore, a particular and restrained love overcomes this General Consent;—the foundation of that Consent yet remaining in the nature, exerts itself again, so that there is the contradiction of one consent to another. And as it is naturally agreeable to every Being, to have being consent to him; the mind, after it has thus exerted an act of dissent to Being in general, has a sense that Being in general dissents from it, which is most disagreeable to it. And as he is conscious of a dissent from Universal Being, and of that Being’s dissent from him, wherever he is, he sees what excites horror. And by inclining or doing that, which is against his natural inclination as a Perceiving Being, he must necessarily cause uneasiness, inasmuch as that natural inclination is contradicted. And this is the Disquiet of Conscience. And, though the Disposition be changed, the remembrance of his having so done in time past, and the idea being still tied to that of himself, he is uneasy. The notion of such a dissent any where, as we have shown, is odious; but the notion of its being in himself, renders it uneasy and disquieting. But when there is no sense of any such dissent from Being in general, there is no contradiction to the natural inclination of Perceiving Being. And when he reflects, he has a sense that Being in general doth not dissent from him; and then there is Peace of Conscience; though he has a remembrance of past dissensions with nature. Yet if by any means it be possible, when he has the idea of it, to conceive of it as not belonging to him, he has the same Peace. And if he has a sense not only of his not dissenting, but of his consenting to Being in general, or Nature, and acting accordingly; he has a sense that Nature, in general, consents to him: he has not only Peace, but Joy, of mind, wherever he is. These things are obviously invigorated by the knowledge of God and his Constitution about us, and by the light of the Gospel.

[The preceding articles were written as comments on the various subjects treated of, while the author was studying the Essay on the Human Understanding. It is not improbable that some of the later numbers were written while the author was a tutor in College.]

NO.V. Family and Descendants of President Edwards





THE following is a copy of the Family Record, in his own hand, in the Family Bible.

“Jonathan Edwards, son of Timothy and Esther Edwards of Windsor in Connecticut.

I was born Oct. 5, 1703.

I was ordained at Northampton, Feb. 15, 1727.

I was married to Miss Sarah Pierrepont, July 28, 1727.

My wife was born Jan. 9, 1710.

My daughter Sarah was born on a sabbath day, between 2 and 3 o’clock in the afternoon, Aug. 25, 1728.

My daughter Jerusha was born on a sabbath day, towards the conclusion of the afternoon exercise, April 26, 1730.

My daughter Ester was born on a sabbath day, between 9 and 10 o’clock in the forenoon, Feb. 13, 1732.

My daughter Mary was born April 7th 1734, being sabbath day, the sun being about an hour and a half high, in the morning.

My daughter Lucy was born on Tuesday, the last day of Aug. 1736, between 2 and 3 o’clock in the morning.

My son Timothy was born on Tuesday, July 25, 1738, between 6 and 7 o’clock in the morning.

My daughter Susannah was born on Friday, June 20, 1740 at about 3 in the morning.

All the family above named had the measles, at the latter end of the year 1740.

My daughter Eunice was born on Monday morning, May 9, 1743, about half an hour after midnight, and was baptized the sabbath following.

My son Jonathan was born on a sabbath-day night, May 26, 1745, between 9 and 10 o’clock, and was baptized the sabbath following.

My daughter Jerusha died on a sabbath day, Feb. 14, 1747, about 5 o’clock in the morning, aged 17.

My daughter Elizabeth was born on Wednesday, May 6, 1747, between 10 and 11 o’clock at night, and was baptized the sabbath following.

My son Pierrepont was born on a sabbath-day night, April 8, 1750, between 8 and 9 o’clock; and was baptized the sabbath following.

I was dismissed from my pastoral relation to the first church in Northampton, June 22d, 1750.

My daughter Sarah was married to Mr. Elihu Parsons, June 11, 1750.

My daughter Mary was married to Timothy Dwight, Esq. of Northampton, Nov. 8, 1750.

My daughter Esther was married to the Rev. Aaron Burr of Newark, June 29, 1752.

I was properly initiated President of New Jersey college, by taking the previous oaths, Feb. 16, 1758.”

Rev. Jonathan Edwards, President of Nassau Hall, died of the small pox, March 22, 1758, and was buried March 24th.

Esther, Burr, wife of Rev. Aaron Burr, died at Princeton, April 7, 1758, of a short illness, aged 26.

Sarah Edwards, wife of Jonathan Edwards, died Oct. 2, 1758, about 12 o’clock, and was buried at Princeton the day following.

Elizabeth Edwards, daughter of Jonathan and Sarah, died at Northampton, Jan. 1. 1762, aged 14.

Lucy Woodbridge died at Stockbridge in Oct. 1786, aged 50.

Rev. Jonathan Edwards, D.D. died at Schenectady, Aug. 1. 1801, aged 56.

Susannah Porter died at Hadley, in the spring of 1802, aged 61.

Sarah Parsons died at Goshen, Mass. May 15, 1805, aged 76.

Mary Dwight died at Northampton, Feb. 1807, aged 72.

Timothy Edwards died at Stockbridge in the autumn of 1813, aged 75.

Eunice Hunt died at Newburn, N.C. in the autumn of 1822, aged 79.

Pierrepont Edwards died at Bridgeport, April 14, 1826, aged 76.

Second.(more remote descendants.

I. Elibu Parsons, Esq. Sarah Edwards, married June 11, 1750. They lived at Stockbridge, and afterwards at Goshen.


1. Ebenezer. Died in infancy.

2. Esther, born May 17, 1752, died at Stockbridge, Nov. 17, 1774.

3. Elihu, born Dec. 9, 1753, married Rhoda Hinsdale of Lenox. He died at Goshen in Aug. 1804. They had 6 children.

4. Eliphalet, born Jan. 1756; married Martha Young of Long Island. He died at Chenango, N.Y. in Jan. 1813. They had 5 children.

5. Lydia, born Jan. 15. 1757; married Aaron Ingersoll of Lee. They had 4 children.

6. Lucretia, born Aug. 3, 1759; married Rev. Justin Parsons of Pittsfield, Vt. She died at Goshen in Dec. 1786. They had 1 child.

7. Sarah, born Sept. 8, 1760; married David Ingersoll of Lee, Dec, 13, 1781. They had 13 children.

8. Lucy, born Oct. 14, 1762; married Joshua Ketchum. They had 3 children.

9. Jonathan. Died an infant.

10. Jerusha. Died an infant.

11. Jerusha, born May, 1766; married Ira Seymour of Victor, N.Y. They have had 5 children.

II. Jerusha, died unmarried, at the age of 17.

III. Rev. Aaron Burr, Esther Edwards, married June 29, 1752. They lived at Newark, and Princeton.


1. Sarah, born May 3, 1754; married Hon. Tapping Reeve of Litchfield, Conn. They had 1 child, Aaron Burr Reeve.

2. Hon. Aaron Burr, Vice President of the United States, born Feb. 6, 1756; married Mrs. Theodosia Prevost. They had one daughter.

IV. Timothy Dwight, Esq. Mary Edwards, married Nov. 8, 1750. They lived at Northampton. He died at Natchez, in 1776; and she, in Feb. 1807, at Northampton.

Children 13.

1. Rev. Timothy Dwight, DD. LL. D., President of Yale college, born May 14, 1752; married Mary, the daughter of Benjamin Woolsey, Esq. of Dorsous, L.I. They had 7 children. He died at New-Haven, Jan 11. 1817.

2. Sereno Edwards Dwight, M.D., born 1753: married Miss Lyman. They had 2 children. He was lost at sea, on the coast of Nova Scotia, in 1779.

3. Jonathan Dwight, born 1755; married Miss Wright. They had 2 children. he died in 180-.

4. Erastus Dwight, born 1756; died, unmarried, in 1825. ccxxxii

5. Maurice William Dwight, M.D., born in 1758; married Margaret Dewitt. They had 2 children.

6. Sarah, born May 29, 1760; married Seth Storrs of Northampton. She died at Northampton, in 1805.

7. Hon. Theodore Dwight, born in 1762; married Abbey Alsop. They have 3 children.

8. Mary, born in 1764; married Lewis R. Morris. They had 1 child.

9. Delia, born in 1766; married Jonathan Edwards Porter, Esq. They had 3 children.

10. Elizabeth, born in 1771; married William W. Woolsey, Esq. They had 8 children. She died at New-Haven in the autumn of 1812.

12. Cecil Dwight, born June 10, 1774; married Mary Clap. They have had 11 children.

13. Henry Edwin Dwight, born in 1776; married Electa Keys. They had 6 children.

V. Jahleel Woodbridge, Esq., Lucy Edwards, married June 1764. They lived at Stockbridge.

Children 7.

1. Jonathan Woodbridge, Esq. born 1766; married Sarah Meach. They had 8 children.

2. Stephen, born 1778, and had several children.

3. Joseph Woodbridge, Esq., born in 1770; married Louisa Hopkins. They had 4 children.

4. Lucy, born in 1772; married Henry Brown. They had 9 or 10 children.

5. John Woodbridge, Esq.

6. Sarah, married a Mr. Leicester of Griswold, Conn. They had 5 children.

7. Rev Timothy Woodbridge, of Green River, N.Y.

VI. Hon. Timothy Edwards, Rhoda Ogden, married Sept. 25, 1760. They lived at Stockbridge.

Children 15. Two died young.

1. Sarah. 2. Edward. 3. Jonathan. 4. Richard. 5. Phebe. 6. William. 7. Robert Ogden. 8. Timothy. 9. Mary Ogden. 10. Rhoda. 11. Mary. 12. Anna. 13. Robert.

VII. Eleazar Porter, Esq. Susannah Edwards, married Sept. 1761. They lived at Hadley.

Children 5.

1. Eleazar. 2. William. 3. Jonathan Edwards. 4. Moses. 5. Pierrepont.

VIII. Thomas Pollock, Esq. Eunice Edwards, married Jan. 1764. They lived at Elizabethtown, N. J.

Children 5.

1. Elizabeth, married(Williams, Esq.

2. Hester, died unmarried.

3. Thomas Pollock, Esq.

4. Frances, married John Deveraux, Esq. They have 3 children

5. George Pollock, Esq.

IX. Rev. Jonathan Edwards, D.D. President of Union College, Sarah Porter, married in 1770. They lived at New-Haven, and Schenectady.

Children 4. One died young.

1. Mary, married Mr. Hoit, of Schenectady.

2. Jonathan Walter Edwards, Esq. Married Elizabeth Tryon.

3. Jerusha, married Rev. Calvin Chapin, D.D. of Stepney.

X. Elizabeth. Died unmarried, at the age of 14.

XI. Hon. Pierrepont Edwards, Frances Ogden, married May, 1769. They lived at New-Haven.

Children 10. Of whom 4 died in infancy.

1. Susan, married Samuel W. Johnson, Esq. They have had 6 children.

2. Hon. John Starkes Edwards, married Louisa Morris. They had 3 children.

3. Hon. Henry Waggerman Edwards, married Lydia Miller. They have had 8 children.

4. Hon. Ogden Edwards, married Harriet Penfield. They had 10 children.

5. Alfred Edwards, married Deborah Glover.

6. Henrietta Frances, married Eli Whitney, Esq. They had 4 children.




1731. God glorified in Man’s Dependence; A Sermon on 1 Cor. i. 29-31. Boston.

1734. A Divine and Supernatural Light imparted to the Soul by the Spirit of God; A Sermon on Matt. xvi. 17. Boston

1735. (Probably.) Curse ye Meroz; A Sermon on Judges v. 3. (This I have not found.)

1736. Narrative of Surprising Conversions. London.

1738. Five Discourses prefixed to the first American edition of the preceding. Boston.

1741. Sinners in the hands of an angry God; A Sermon on Deut. xxxii. 35. Boston.

1741. Sorrows of the Bereaved spread before Jesus; A Sermon at the Funeral of the Rev. William Williams, on Matt. xiv. 12. Boston.

1741. Distinguishing Marks of a Work of the True Spirit; A Sermon on 1 John iv. 1.preached at New-Haven, Sept. 10. 1741. Boston.

1742. Thoughts on the Revival of Religion in New England in 1740. Boston.

1743. The Watchman’s Duty and Account; A Sermon on Heb. xiii. 17. at the Ordination of the Rev. Jonathan Judd. Boston.

1744. The True Excellency of a Gospel Minister; A Sermon on John v. 35. At the Ordination of the Rev. Robert Abererombie. Boston.

1746. Treatise on Religious Affections. Boston.

1747. True Saints, when absent from the Body, present with the Lord; A Sermon on .2 Cor. v. 8. At the Funeral of Rev. David Brainerd. Boston.

1748. God’s awful Judgments in breaking the Strong Rods of Community; A Sermon on the Death of Col. John Stoddard. Boston.

1749. Life and Diary of the Rev. David Brainerd. Boston.

1749. Christ the Example of Gospel Ministers; A Sermon on John xiii. 15, 16. At the Ordination of the Rev. Job Strong. Boston.

1749. Qualifications for Full Communion in the Visible Church. Boston.

1750. Farewell Sermon to the People of Northampton. Boston.

1752. True Grace distinguished from the Experience of Devils; A Sermon on James ii. 19. Before the Synod of Newark. New York.

1754. On the Freedom of the Will. Boston.

1758. On Original Sin. Boston.

1765. Eighteen Sermons, annexed to the Life by Dr. Hopkins. Boston.

1777. The History of Redemption. Edinburgh.

1788. Nature of Virtue. Boston.

1788. God’s Last End in the Creation. In the same pamphlet as the preceding.

1788. Practical Sermons. Edinburgh.

1789. Twenty Sermons. Edinburgh.

1793. Miscellaneous Observations. Edinburgh.

1796. Miscellaneous Remarks. Edinburgh.