Now, because this is a prejudice which may prevail with some persons, so far as to lessen the influence of the Gospel, and whereas therefore this is an opinion which men of education are like to be encountered with, when they have produced themselves into the world; I shall endeavour to shew that their preference of heathen wisdom and virtue, before that of the Christian, is every way unjust, and grounded upon ignorance or mistake: In order to which I shall consider four things.
First, I shall produce certain points, wherein the wisdom and virtue of all unrevealed philosophy in general, fell short, and was very imperfect.
Secondly, I shall shew, in several instances, where some of the most renowned philosophers have been grossly defective in their lessons of morality.
Thirdly, I shall prove the perfection of Christian wisdom, from the proper characters and marks of it.
Lastly, I shall shew that the great examples of wisdom and virtue among the heathen wise men, were produced by personal merit, and not influenced by the doctrine of any sect; whereas, in Christianity, it is quite the contrary.
First, I shall produce certain points, wherein the wisdom and virtue of all unrevealed philosophy in general fell short, and was very imperfect.
My design is to persuade men, that Christian philosophy is in all things preferable to heathen wisdom; from which, or its professors, I shall however have no occasion to detract. They were as wise and as good as it was possible for them under such disadvantages, and would have probably been infinitely more with such aids as we enjoy: But our lessons are certainly much better, however our practices may fail short.
The first point I shall mention is that universal defect which was in all their schemes, that they could not agree about their chief good, or wherein to place the happiness of mankind, nor had any of them a tolerable answer upon this difficulty, to satisfy a reasonable person. For, to say, as the most plausible of them did, that happiness consisted in virtue, was but vain babbling, and a mere sound of words, to amuse others and themselves; because they were not agreed what this virtue was, or wherein it did consist; and likewise, because several among the best of them taught quite different things, placing happiness in health or good fortune, in riches or in honour, where all were agreed that virtue was not, as I shall have occasion to shew, when I speak of their particular tenets.
The second great defect in the Gentile philosophy was, that it wanted some suitable reward proportioned to the better part of man, his mind, as an encouragement for his progress in virtue. The difficulties they met with upon the score of this default were great, and not to be accounted for: Bodily goods, being only suitable to bodily wants, are no rest at all for the mind; and, if they were, yet are they not the proper fruits of wisdom and virtue, being equally attainable by the ignorant and wicked. Now, human nature is so constituted, that we can never pursue anything heartily but upon hopes of a reward. If we run a race, it is in expectation of a prize, and the greater the prize the faster we run; for an incorruptible crown, if we understand it and believe it to be such, more than a corruptible one. But some of the philosophers gave all this quite another turn, and pretended to refine so far, as to call virtue its own reward, and worthy to be followed only for itself: Whereas, if there be anything in this more than the sound of the words, it is at least too abstracted to become a universal influencing principle in the world, and therefore could not be of general use.
It was the want of assigning some happiness, proportioned to the soul of man, that caused many of them, either, on the one hand, to be sour and morose, supercilious and untreatable; or, on the other, to fall into the vulgar pursuits of common men, to hunt after greatness and riches, to make their court, and to serve occasions; as Plato did to the younger Dionysius, and Aristotle to Alexander the Great. So impossible is it for a man, who looks no further than the present world, to fix himself long in a contemplation where the present world has no part: He has no sure hold, no firm footing; he can never expect to remove the earth he rests upon, while he has no support beside for his feet, but wants, like Archimedes, some other place whereon to stand. To talk of bearing pain and grief, without any sort of present or future hope, cannot be purely greatness of spirit; there must be a mixture in it of affectation, and an alloy of pride, or perhaps is wholly counterfeit.