An antidote against atheisme, or, An appeal to the natural faculties of the minde of man, whether there be not a God by Henry More ...

THE PREFACE.

ATheisme and Enthusiasme though they seeme so extreamely oppo∣site one to another, yet in many things they do very nearly agree. For to say nothing of their joynt conspiracy a∣gainst the true knowledge of God and Religion, they are commonly entertain'd, though successively, in the same Comple∣xion. For that temper that disposes a man to listen to the Magisteriall dictates of an over-bearing fancy, more then to the calm and cautious insinuations of free Reason, is a subject that by turns does very easily lodge and give harbour to these mischie∣vous Guests.

For as dreams are the fancies of those that sleep, so fancies are but the dreams of men awake. And these fancies by day, as those dreams by night, will vary and change with the weather & present Tem∣per of the body. So that those that have

onely a fiery Enthusiastick acknowledge∣ment of God; change of diet, feculent old Age, or some present dampes of Melancholy will as confidently represent to their fancy that there is no God, as ever it was repre∣sented that there is one; and then having lost the use of their more noble faculties of Reason and Understanding, they must according to the course of Nature, bee as bold Atheists now, as they were before con∣fident Enthusiasts.

Nor do these two unruly Guests only serve themselves by turns on the same party, but also send mutuall supplies one to another; being lodg'd in severall per∣sons. For the Atheist's pretence to wit and natural reason (though the foulenesse of his mind makes him fumble very doting∣ly in the use thereof) makes the Enthusiast ••••cure that reason is no Guide to God. And the Enthusiast's boldy dictating the carelesse ravings of his own tumultuous fancy for undeniable principles of divine know∣ledge, confirms the Atheists that the whole

buisinesse of religion & notion of a God, is nothing but a troublesome fit of over∣curious Melancholy. Therefore, I thought I should not be wanting to Religion and to the Publique, if I attempted, some way, to make this fansifull Theosophy or Theo∣magy, as it is very ridiculous in it self, so also to appeare to the world, and if it were possible, to the very favourers of it; it be∣ing the most effectuall means in my judg∣ment, to remove this dangerous evill out of the minds of men, and to keep it off from theirs that are as yet untainted.

And this I indeavoured in those two late Pamphlets I wrote, namely my Observa∣tions and my Reply. In both which I put∣ting my self upon the merry pin (as you see it was necessary so to do) and being finely warm'd with Anger and Indigna∣tion against the mischief I had in designe to remove, if I may seem after the manner of men to have transgressed in any nice∣ties, yet the ingenuous cannot but be very favourable in their censure, it being very

hard to come off so clearly well, in the acting of so humorous a part; there scarce being any certaine Judge of humours, but the humour of every man that judges.

And I am very well aware that some passages cannot but seem harsh to sad and weakly Spirits, as sick men love no noise nor din, and take offence at but the smell of such meats, as are the most pleasant and strengthening nourishment of those that are well. But as for my selfe I can truly pronounce that what I did, I did in reason & judgment, not at all offending that Life that dwelleth in mee. For there was that Tonicall exertion, and steady Tension of my Spirits, that every chord went off with a cleare and smart sound, as in a well-tuned Instrument set at a high Pitch, and was good Musick to my self that throughly un∣derstood the meaning of it. And my agile and swift Motion from one thing to ano∣ther, even of those that were of very diffe∣rent natures, was no harsh harmony at all to mee, I having the art to stop the hum∣ming

of the last stroke, as a skilfull Harper on his Irish Harpe, and so to render the fol∣lowing chord cleane, without the mixing or interfaring of any tremulous murmurs, from the strings that were touch'd imme∣diately before.

And I did the more willingly indulge to my self this freedome and mirth, in re∣spect of the Libertines whom I was severe∣ly and sharply to reprove, and so made my self as freely merry as I might, and not desert the realities of Sobernesse, that there∣by they might know, that no Superstitious Sneaksby, or moped Legallist (as they would be ready to fancy every body that bore no resemblance at all with themselves) did rebuke them or speak to them, but one that had in some measure attain'd to the truth of that Liberty, that they were in a false sent after. Thus was I content to be∣come a Spectacle to the world, in any way or disguise whatsoever, that I might there∣by possibly by any means gain some souls out of this dirty and dizzy whirle-poole of

the Flesh, into the Rest and Peace of God; and to seem a fool my self to provoke o∣thers to become truly and seriously wise.

And as I thought to winne upon the Li∣bertine by my mirth and freenesse, so I thought to gain ground upon the Enthusiast, by suffering my self to be carried into such high Triumphs and Exaltations of Spirit as I did. In all which (though the unskil∣full cannot distinguish betwixt vain-glory and Divine joy or Christian gloriation) I do really nothing but highly magni••y the simplicity of the life of Christ above all Magick, Miracles, Power of Nature, Opinions, Prophecies, and what ever else humane nature is so giddily and furiously carried after, even to the neglecting of that which is the sublimest pitch of happinesse that the soul of man can arrive to.

Wherefore many of those expressions in my Reply that seem so turgent are to be interpreted with allusion to what this Di∣vine life does deservedly triumph over, and particularly what Magicians boast they

can do: As in that passage which seems most enormous pag. 49^th. I still the raging of the Sea &c. Which is the very same that Medea vaunts of in Ovid,

—Concussaque sisto, Stantia concutio cantu freta, nubila pello.

And for the rest that has falne from me in those free heats, I'me sure there is nei∣ther Expression nor Meaning that I cannot not only make good by reason, but war∣rant and countenance also by some thing plainly parallell thereto, in Scripture, Phi∣losophers and Fathers, especially Origen, whom I account more profoundly lear∣ned and no lesse pious then any of them.

But as I said the Drift and Scope of all was, vigourously to witnesse to this buisy and inquisitive Age, that the Simplicity of the life of Christ, though it bee run over by most and taken no notice of, that is, that perfect Humility and divine Love, whence is a free command over a mans passions and a warrantable Guidance of

them, with all Serenity, becoming Pru∣dence, and Equity; that these are above all the glory of the World, curiosity of Opi∣nions, and all power of Nature whatso∣ever.

And if the sense of this so plaine a truth with all it's power and lovelinesse did so vehemently possesse my soul, that it cau∣sed for the present some sensible mutations and tumults in my very Animall Spirits and my body, the matter being of so great Importance, it was but an obvious piece of prudence to record those Circumstan∣ces, that professing my self so very much moved, others might be the more effe∣ctually moved thereby; according to that of the Poet

—si vis me flere, dolendum est Primùm ipsi tibi.

And I am no more to be esteemed an Enthusiast for such passages as these, then those wise and circumspect Philosophers, Plato and Plotinus, who upon the more then ordinary sensible visits of the divine

Love and Beauty descending into their enravish'd soules, professe themselves no lesse moved, then what the sense of such expressions as these will bear, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 or 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. And to such Enthusiasme as is but the Triumph of the soul of man, inebriated as it were, with the delicious sense of the Di∣vine life, that blessed Root, and Original of all holy wisdome & virtue, I am as much a friend, as I am to the vulgar fanaticall Enthusiasme a professed enemie. And eternal shame stop his mouth, that will dare to deny, but that the fervent love of God and of the pulchritude of Vertue will afford the spirit of man more joy and triumph, then ever was tasted in any lustfull pleasure, which the pen of unclean Wits do so highly magnify both in verse and prose.

Thus much I thought fit to premise concerning my two late Pamphlets, which I have done in way of Civility to the world, to whom I hold my selfe accoun∣table, especially for any publique Actions,

who now I hope will not deem those un∣expected Motions of mine so strange and uncouth, they so plainly perceiving what Musick they were measured to.

But as for this present Discourse against Atheisme, as there is no humour at all in it, so I hope there is lesse hazzard of Censure. For here is nothing to give offence, unlesse we be so weak-sighted, that the pure light of Reason & Nature will offend us. Here's no lavish Mirth, no Satyricall Sharpenesse, no Writhing or Distorting the genuine frame & composure of mine own mind, to set out the deformity of anothers, no Rapture, no Poetry, no Enthusiasme, no more then there is in Euclid's Elements, or Hip∣pocrates his Aphorismes. But though I have been so bold as to recite what there is not in this present Discourse, yet I had rather leave it to the Quick-sightednesse of the Reader to spie out what there is, then be put upon so much Immodesty my self, as to speak any thing that may seem to give it any precellency above what is already

extant in the world about the same mat∣ter. Onely I may say thus much, that I did on purpose abstaine from reading any Treatises concerning this subject, that I might the more undisturbedly write the easy Emanations of mine own mind, and not be carried off from what should natu∣rally fall from my self, by prepossessing my thoughts by the inventions of others.

I have writ therefore after no Copy but the Eternall Characters of the mind of man, and the known Phaenomena of Na∣ture. And all men consulting with these that indeavour to write sense, though it be not done alike by all men, it could not happen but I should touch upon the same heads that others have, that have wrote be∣fore mee▪ Who though they merit very high commendation for their learned at∣cheivements, yet I hope my indeavours have been such, that though they may not deserve to be corrivalls or partners in their praise and credit, yet I doe not distrust but they may do their share towards that pub∣lique

good, that such performances u∣sually pretend to aime at.

For that which did embolden me to publish this present Treatise, was not, as I said before, because I flatte••'d my self in a Conceit that it was better or more plausi∣ble, then what is already in the hands of men: but that it was of a different sort, and has it's peculiar serviceablenesse and ad∣vantages apart and distinct from others; whose proper preeminences it may aloofe off admire, but dare not in any wise com∣pare with. So that there is no Tau••ology committed in recommending what I have written to the publique view, nor any les∣sening the labours of others by thus offer∣ing the fruit of mine own. For considering there are such severall Complexions and Tempers of men in the world, I do not di∣strust but that as what others have done, has been very acceptable and profitable to many, so this of mine may be well rel∣lish'd of some or other, and so seem not to have been writ in vain.

For though I cannot promise my Rea∣der that I shall entertaine him with so much winning Rhetorick and pleasant Phi∣lology, as hee may find else where, yet I hope hee will acknowledge, if his mind be unpreiudic'd, that he meets with sound and plain Reason, and an easy and cleare Method.

And though I cannot furnish him with that copious variety of Arguments that others have done, yet the frugall careful∣nesse and safenesse of choise that I have made in them, may compensate their pau∣city.

For I appeale to any man, whether the proposall of such as will easily admit of Evasions (though they have this peculiar advantage that they make for greater pompe and at first sight seem more for∣midable for their multitude) does not em∣bolden the Atheist and make him fancy, that because he can so easily turn the edge of these, that the rest have no more so∣lidity then the former; but that if hee

thought good, and had leisure, hee could with like facility enervate them all.

Wherefore I have endeavoured to insist upon such alone, as are not onely true in themselves, but are unavoidable to my Adversary, unlesse he will cast down his shield, forsake the free use of the naturall facultyes of his mind, and professe him∣self a mere puzzled Sceptick. But if he will with us but admit of this one Postu∣late or Hypothesis, that Our Faculties are true, though I have spoke modestly in the Di∣scourse it self, yet I think I may here with∣out vanity or boasting, freely professe that I have no lesse then demonstrated that ••here is a God. And by how much more any man shall seriously indeavour to resist the strength of my Arguments, by so much the more strong he shall find them; as he that presses his weak finger against a wall of Marble; and that they can appear slight to none but those that carelessly and slightly consider them. For I borrowed them not from books, but fetch't them

from the very nature of the thing it self and indelible Ideas of the Soul of Man.

And I found that keeping my self with∣in so narrow compasse as not to affect any reasonings but such as had very clear affi∣nity and close connexion with the subject in hand, that I naturally hit upon what e∣ver was materiall to my purpose, and so contenting my self with my own, recei∣ved nothing from the great store and rich∣es of others. And what I might easily re∣member of others, I could not let passe if in my own Judgement it was obnox∣ious to evasion. For I intended not to im∣pose upon the Atheist, but really to con∣vince him. And therefore Des-Cartes, whose Mechanicall wit I can never highly enough admire, might bee no Master of Metaphy∣sicks to mee. Whence it is that I make use but of his first Argument only, if I may not rather call it the Schooles or mine own. For I thinke I have mannag'd it in such sort and every way so propp'd it and

strengthened it, that I may challenge in it as much interest as any.

But as for his following reasons, that suppose the Objective Reality of the Idea of God does exceed the efficiency of the mind of man, and that the mind of man, were it not from another, would have conferr'd all that perfection upon it self, that it has the Idea of, & lastly, that it having no pow∣er to conserve it self, and the present and future time having no dependance one of another, that it is continually reproduc'd, that is conserv'd by some higher cause, which must be God; these grounds, I say, being so easily evaded by the Atheist, I durst not trust to them, unlesse I had the Au∣thours wit to defend them, who was handsomely able to make good any thing. But they seem to me to be liable to such evasions as I can give no stop to.

For the mind of man, as the Atheist will readily reply, may be able of her self to frame such an actuall Idea of God, as is there disp••••ed of, which Idea will be but

the present modification of her, as other notions are, and an effect of her essence, and power, and that power a radicall pro∣perty of her essence. So that there is no excesse of an effect above the efficiency of the cause, though wee look no fur∣ther then the mind it self, for she frames this notion of God as naturally and as much without the help of an higher Cause, as she does any thing else whatsoe∣ver.

And as for the mind's contributing those perfections on her self, shee has an Idea of; if shee had been of her self, the Atheist will say, it implyes a contradiction, and supposes that a thing before it exists, may consult about the advantages of its own existence. But if the mind be of it self, it is what it finds it self to be, and can be no otherwise.

And therefore lastly if the mind find it self to exist, it can no more destroy it self, then produce it self, nor needs any thing to continue its being, provided that there

be nothing in Nature that can act against it and destroy it; for what ever is, conti∣nues so to be, unlesse there be some cause to change it.

So likewise from those Arguments I fetch'd from externall Nature, as well as in these from the innate propertyes of the mind of man, my careful choise made very large defalcations, insisting rather upon such things as might be otherwise, and yet are farre better as they are, then upon such as were necessary and could not be other∣wise. As for example; When I consider'd the distance of the Sun, I did not con∣ceive that his not being plac'd so low as the Moone, or so high as the fixed Starres, was any great argument of Providence, because it might be reply'd that it was ne∣cessary it should be betwixt those two di∣stances, else the Earth had not been habita∣ble, & so mankind might have waited for a being, till the agitation of the Matter had wrought things into a more tolerable fit∣ness or posture for their production.

Nor simply is the Motion of the Sun or rather of the Earth, any argument of divine Providence, but as necessary as a piece of wood's being carried down the stream, or straws about a whirle-poole. But the Laws of her Motion are such, that they very manifestly convince us of a Pro∣vidence, and therefore I was fain to let goe the former, and insist more largely upon the latter.

Nor thought I it fit, to Rhetoricate in proposing the great variety of things, and praecellency one above another, but to presse close upon the designe and subordina∣tion of one thing to another, shewing that whereas the rude motions of the matter a thousand to one might have cast it otherwise, yet the productions of things are such as our own Rea∣son cannot but approve to bee best, or as wee our selves would have design'd them.

And so in the consideration of Ani∣malls, I do not so much urge my Reasons

from their diversity and subsistence, (though the framing of matter into the bare subsistence of an Animall is an effect of no lesse cause then what has some skill and counsell) But what I drive at, is the exquisite contrivance of their parts, and that their structure is farre more perfect, then will meerly serve for their bare exi∣stence and continuance in the world; Which is an undenyable demonstration that they are the effects of wisdome, not the results of Fortune or fermented Mat∣ter.

Lastly when I descend to the History of things miraculous and above the ordi∣nary course of Nature, for the proving that there are Spirits, that the Atheist there∣by may the easier bee induced to be∣lieve there is a God, I am so cautious and circumspect, that I make use of no Narrations that either the avarice of the Priest, or the credulity and fansifullnesse of the Melancholist may render suspe∣cted.

Nor could I abstaine from that Subject, it being so pat and pertinent unto my purpose, though I am well aware how ri∣diculous a thing it seems to those I have to deale with. But their confident igno∣rance shall never dash mee out of coun∣tenance with my well-grounded know∣ledge: For I have been no carelesse Inqui∣rer into these things, and from my child∣hood to this very day, have had more rea∣sons to believe the Existence of God and a Divine Providence, then is reasonable for mee to make particular profession of.

In this History of things Miraculous or Super-naturall, I might have recited those notable Prodigies that happened, af∣ter the birth, in the life, and at the death of Christ; As the star that led the Wise men to the yong Infant; Voices from heaven testifying Christ to bee the Sonne of God; and lastly that miraculous Ec∣lipse of the Sun, made, not by inter∣position of the Moon, for shee was then

opposite to him, but by the Interpo∣s••••ion or totall Involution, if you will, of those scummy spots that ever more or lesse are spread upon his face, but now over-flowed him with such thick∣nesse and so universally, that day-light was suddainly intercepted from the asto∣nished eyes of the Inhabitants of the Earth. To which direfull Symptomes though the Sunne hath been in some mea∣sure at severall times obnoxious, yet that those latent Causes should so suddainly step out and surprise him, and so enor∣mously at the passion of the Messias, hee whose mind is not more prodigiously darkened then the Sun was then Ec∣lips••d, cannot but at first sight acknow∣ledge it a speciall designement of Provi∣dence.

But I did not insist upon any sacred History, partly because it is so well and so ordinarily known, that it seemed lesse need••ull; but mainly because I know the Atheist will boggle more at whatever

is fetch'd from establish'd Religion, and fly away from it, like a wild Colt in a Pa∣sture at the sight of a bridle or an halter, snuffing up the Aire and smelling a Plot afarre off, as hee foolishly fancies.

But that hee might not be shy of mee, I have conform'd my self as neer his own Garbe as I might, without parta∣king of his folly or wickednesse, that is, I appeare now in the plaine shape of a meere Naturalist, that I might van∣quish Atheisme; as I did heretofore affe∣ctedly symbolize in carelesse Mirth and freedome with the Libertines, to circum∣vent Libertinisme.

For hee that will lend his hand to help another fallen into a ditch, must him∣self though not fall, yet stoop and incline his body: And hee that converses with a Barbarian, must discourse to him in his own language: So hee that would gaine upon the more weake and sunk minds of sensuall mortalls, is to accom∣modate himself to their capacity, who

like the Bat and Owle can see no where so well as in the shady glimmerings of their own Twilight.