put a stop to this folly and confusion, why did she not? If she was not able to resist this torrent alone, the point is given up; she wanted aid, and Revelation has given it.

But though Reason, you'll say, could not overthrow these popular mistakes, yet it saw the folly of them, and was at all times able to disprove them.

No doubt it was; and it is certain, too, that the more diligent inquirers after truth did not in fact fall into these absurd notions, which, by the way, is an observation more to our purpose than theirs who usually make it, and shows that, though their reasonings were good, there always wanted something which they could not supply to give them such weight as would lay an obligation upon mankind to embrace them, and make that to be a law which otherwise was but an opinion without force.

Besides, which is a more direct answer, though 'tis true the ablest men gave no credit to the multiplicity of gods (for they had a religion for themselves, and another for the populace), yet they were guilty of what in effect was equally bad, in holding an opinion which necessarily supported these very mistakes, namely, that as different nations had different gods, it was every man's duty (I suppose more for quietness than principle's sake) to worship the gods of his country, which, by the way, considering their numbers, was not so easy a task; for, what with celestial gods, and gods aërial, terrestrial, and infernal, with the goddesses, their wives and mistresses, upon the lowest computation, the heathen world acknowledged no less than thirty thousand deities, all which claimed the rites and ceremonies of religious worship.

But 'twill be said, allowing the bulk of mankind were under such delusions, they were still but speculative. What was that to their practice? However defective in their theology and more abstracted points, their morality was no way connected with it. There is no need that the everlasting laws of justice and mercy should be fetched down from above, since they can be proved from more obvious mediums: they were as necessary for the same good purposes of society then as now; and we may presume they saw their interest, and pursued it.

That the necessities of society, and the impossibilities of its subsisting otherwise, would point out the convenience, or, if you will, the duty of social virtues, is unquestionable; but I firmly deny that therefore religion and morality are independent of each other: they appear so far from it, that I cannot conceive how the one, in the true and meritorious sense of the duty, can act without the influence of the other. Surely the most exalted motive which can only be depended upon for the uniform practice of virtue must come down from above-from the love and imitation of that Being in whose sight

we wish to render ourselves acceptable: this will operate at all times and all places, in the darkest closet as much as on the greatest and most public theatres of the world.

But with different conceptions of the Deity, or such impure ones as they entertained, is it to be doubted whether, in the many secret trials of our virtue, we should not determine our cases of conscience with much the same kind of casuistry as that of the Libertine in Terence, who, being engaged in a very unjustifiable pursuit, and happening to see a picture which represented a known story of Jupiter in a like transaction, argued the matter thus within himself: If the great Jupiter could not restrain his appetites, and deny himself an indulgence of this kind-ego, Homuncio, hoc non facerem?— shall I, a mortal, an inconsiderable mortal too, clothed with infirmities of flesh and blood, pretend to a virtue which the father of gods and men could not? What insolence!

The conclusion was natural enough; and as so great a master of nature, puts it into the mouth of one of his principal characters, no doubt the language was then understood: it was copied from common life, and was not the first application which had been made of the story. It will scarce admit of a question whether vice would not naturally grow bold upon the credit of such an example, or whether such impressions did not influence the lives and morals of many in the heathen world; and had there been no other proof of it but the natural tendency of such notions to corrupt them, it had been sufficient reason to believe it was so.

No doubt there is sufficient room for amendment in the Christian world, and we may be said to be a very corrupt and bad generation of men, considering what motives we have from the purity of our religion, and the force of its sanctions, to make us better: yet, still I afirm that, if these restraints were taken off, the world would be infinitely worse; and though some sense of morality might be preserved, as it was in the heathen world, with the more considerate of us, yet, in general, I am persuaded that the bulk of mankind, upon such a supposition, would soon come to 'live without God in the world,' and in a short time differ from Indians themselves in little else but their complexions.

If, after all, the Christian religion has not left a sufficient provision against the wickedness of the world, the short and true answer is this, that there can be none.

It is sufficient to leave us without excuse, that the excellency of this institution, in its doctrine, its precepts, and its examples, has a proper tendency to make us a virtuous and a happy people: every page is an address to our hearts to win them to these purposes; but as religion was not intended to work upon men by force and natural necessity, but by moral persuasion, which sets good and evil before them,

so, if men have power to do the evil and choose the good, and will abuse it, this cannot be avoided. Religion ever implies a freedom of choice, and all the beings in the world which have it were created free to stand and free to fall; and therefore men who will not be persuaded by this way of address must expect, and be contented, to be reckoned with according to the talents they have received.

XXVII.-THE ABUSES OF CONSCIENCE CONSIDERED.

'For we trust we have a good conscience.'-HEBREWS XIII. 18.

TRUST!-Trust we have a good conscience! Surely, you will say, if there is anything in this life which a man may depend upon, and to the knowledge of which he is capable of arriving upon the most indisputable evidence, it must be this very thing, whether he has a good conscience or no.

If a man thinks at all, he cannot well be a stranger to the true state of this account: he must be privy to his own thoughts and desires; he must remember his past pursuits, and know certainly the true springs and motives which, in general, have governed the actions of his life.

In other matters we may be deceived by false appearances; and, as the wise man complains, Hardly do we guess aright at the things that are upon the earth, and with labour do we find the things that are before us;-but here the mind has all the evidence and facts within herself is conscious of the web she has wove-knows its texture and fineness, and the exact share which every passion has had in working upon the several designs which virtue or vice has planned before her.

Now, as conscience is nothing else but the knowledge which the mind has within itself of this, and the judgment either of approbation or censure which it unavoidably makes upon the successive actions of our lives, 'tis plain, you will say, from the very terms of the proposition, whenever this inward testimony goes against a man, and he stands self-accused, that he must necessarily be a guilty man. And, on the contrary, when the report is favourable on his side, and his heart condemns him not, that it is not a matter of trust, as the Apostle intimates, but a matter of certainty and fact, that the 'conscience is good,' and that the man must be good also.

At first sight this may seem to be the true state of the case; and I make no doubt but the knowledge of right and wrong is so truly impressed upon the mind of man, that, did no such thing ever happen as that the conscience of a man, by long habits of sin, might (as the Scripture assures us it may) insensibly become hard, and, like some tender part of his body, by much stress and continual hard usage, lose by degrees

that nice sense and perception with which God and nature endowed it,-did this never happen, or was it certain that self-love could never hang the least bias upon the judgment, or that the little interests below could rise up and perplex the faculties of our upper regions, and encompass them about with clouds and thick darkness; could no such thing as Favour and Affection enter this sacred court; did Wit disdain to take a bribe in it, or was ashamed to show its face as an advocate for an unwarrantable enjoyment; or, lastly, were we assured that Interest stood always unconcerned whilst the cause was hearing, and that Passion never got into the judgment-seat, and pronounced sentence in the stead of Reason, which is supposed always to preside and determine upon the case ;was this truly so, as the objection must suppose, no doubt, then, the religious and moral state of a man would be exactly what he himself esteemed it; and the guilt or innocence of every man's life could be known, in general, by no better measure than the degrees of his own approbation or censure.

I own, in one case, whenever a man's conscience does accuse him (as it seldom errs on that side), that he is guilty; and, unless in melancholy and hypochondriac cases, we may safely pronounce that there are always sufficient grounds for the accusation.

But the converse of the proposition will not hold true, namely, that wherever there is guilt, the conscience must accuse; and if it does not, that a man is therefore innocent. This is not fact: so that the common consolation which some good Christian or other is hourly administering to himself-that he thanks God his mind does not misgive him; and that, consequently, he has a good conscience because he has a quiet one,-current as the inference is, and infallible as the rule appears at first sight, yet when you look nearer to it, and try the truth of this rule upon plain facts, you find it liable to so much error, from a false application of it,-the principle on which it goes so often perverted,-the whole force of it lost, and sometimes so vilely cast away, that it is painful to produce the common examples from human life which confirm this account.

A man shall be vicious and utterly debauched in his principles; exceptionable in his conduct to the world: shall live shameless, in the open commission of a sin which no reason or pretence can justify,- -a sin by which, contrary to all the workings of humanity within, he shall ruin for ever the deluded partner of his guilt, rob her of her best dowry, and not only cover her own head with dishonour, but involve a whole virtuous family in shame and sorrow for her sake. Surely, you'll think, conscience must lead such a man a troublesome life: he can have no rest night or day from its reproaches.

Alas! Conscience had something else to do all

Another is sordid, unmerciful; ;-a straithearted, selfish wretch, incapable either of private friendships or public spirit. Take notice how he passes by the widow and orphan in their distress, and sees all the miseries incident to human life without a sigh or a prayer. Shall not conscience rise up and sting him on such occasions? No.-Thank GOD, there is no occasion. I pay every man his own,-I have no fornication to answer to my conscience,-no faithless vows or promises to make up,-I have debauched no man's wife or child.—Thank GOD, I am not as other men, adulterers, unjust, or even as this libertine who stands before me.'

A third is crafty and designing in his nature. View his whole life,-'tis nothing else but a cunning contexture of dark arts and inequitable subterfuges, basely to defeat the true intent of all laws, plain dealing, and the safe enjoyment of our several properties. You will see such a one working out a frame of little designs upon the ignorance and perplexities of the poor and needy man;-shall raise a fortune upon the inexperience of a youth, or the unsuspecting temper of his friend, who would have trusted him with his life. When old age comes on, and repentance calls him to look back upon this black account, and state it over again with his conscience, Conscience looks into the Statutes at Large,-finds perhaps no express law broken by what he has done,-perceives no penalty or forfeiture incurred, sees no scourge waving over his head, or prison opening its gate upon him.-What is there to affright his conscience? -Conscience has got safely entrenched behind the letter of the law, sits there invulnerable, fortified with cases and reports so strongly on all sides, that 'tis not preaching can dispossess it of its hold.

Another shall want even this refuge,-shall break through all this ceremony of slow chicane; scorns the doubtful workings of secret plots and cautious trains to bring about his purpose. See the barefaced villain, how he cheats, lies, perjures, robs, murders - Horrid! But, indeed, much better was not to be expected in this case. -The poor man was in the dark! His priest

O Popery! what hast thou to answer for?when, not content with the too many natural and fatal ways through which the heart is every day thus treacherous to itself above all things, thou hast wilfully set open this wide gate of deceit before the face of this unwary Traveller, -too apt, God knows, to go astray of himself, and confidently speak peace to his soul when there is no peace.

Of this the common instances, which I have drawn out of life, are too notorious to require much evidence. If any man doubts the reality of them, or thinks it impossible for man to be such a bubble to himself, I must refer him a moment to his reflections, and shall then venture to trust the appeal with his own heart. Let him consider in how different a degree of i detestation numbers of wicked actions stand there: though equally bad and vicious in their own natures, he will soon find, that such of them as strong inclination or custom have prompted him to commit, are generally dressed out and painted with all the false beauties which a soft and flattering hand can give them; and that the others, to which he feels no propensity, appear at once naked and deformed, surrounded with all the true circumstances of folly and dishonour.

When David surprised Saul sleeping in the cave, and cut off the skirt of his robe, we read, his heart smote him for what he had done. But in the matter of Uriah, where a faithful and gallant servant, whom he ought to have loved and honoured, fell, to make way for his lust, where Conscience had so much greater reason to take the alarm, his heart smote him not. A whole year had almost passed from the first commission of that crime to the time Nathan was sent to reprove him; and we read not once of the least sorrow or compunction of heart, which he testified during all that time, for what he had done.

Thus Conscience, this once able monitor, placed on high as a judge within us, and intended by our Maker as a just and equitable one too, by an unhappy train of causes and impediments, takes often such imperfect cognizance of what passes, does its office so negligently, some times so corruptly, that it is not to be trusted

alone; and therefore we find there is a necessity, an absolute necessity, of joining another priciple with it, to aid, if not govern its determinations.

So that, if you would form a just judgment of what is of infinite importance to you not to be misled in,-namely, in what degree of real merit you stand, either as an honest man, an useful citizen, a faithful subject to your king, or a good servant to your God,-call in Religion and Morality. Look,-What is written in the law of God? How readest thou? Consult calm reason and the unchangeable obligations of justice and truth,-What say they?

Let Conscience determine the matter upon these reports; and then, if thy heart condemn thee not,-which is the case the Apostle supposes, the rule will be infallible, thou wilt have confidence towards God, that is, have just grounds to believe the judgment thou hast passed upon thyself is the judgment of God, and nothing else but an anticipation of that righteous sentence which will be pronounced hereafter upon thee by that Being before whom thou art finally to give an account of thy actions.

Blessed is the man, indeed, then, as the author of the book of Ecclesiasticus expresses it, who is not pricked with the multitude of his sins.-Blessed is the man whose heart hath not condemned him, and who is not fallen from his hope in the Lord. Whether he be rich, continues he, or whether he be poor, if he have a good heart (a heart thus guided and informed), he shall at all times rejoice in a cheerful countenance; his mind shall tell him more than seven watchmen that sit above upon a tower on high. In the darkest doubts it shall conduct him safer than a thousand casuists, and give the state he lives in a better security for his behaviour than all the clauses and restrictions put together which the wisdom of the legislature is forced to multiply, forced, I say, as things stand; human laws being not a matter of original choice, but of pure necessity, brought in to fence against the mischievous effects of those consciences which are no law unto themselves: wisely intending, by the many provisions made, that in all such corrupt or misguided cases, where principle and the checks of Conscience will not make us upright, to supply their force, and by the terrors of gaols and halters oblige us to it.

To have the fear of God before our eyes, and, in our mutual dealings with each other, to govern our actions by the eternal measures of right and wrong,-the first of these will comprehend the duties of religion, the second those of morality; which are so inseparably connected together, that you cannot divide these two Tables, even in imagination (though the attempt is often made in practice), without breaking and mutually destroying them both.

see a man, who has no sense at all of religion, and indeed has so much of honesty as to pretend to none, who would yet take it as the bitterest affront should you but hint at a suspicion of his moral character, or imagine he was not conscientiously just and scrupulous to the uttermost mite.

When there is some appearance that it is so,though one is not willing even to suspect the appearance of so great a virtue as moral honesty,

yet were we to look into the grounds of it in the present case, I am persuaded we should find little reason to envy such a man the honour of his motive.

Let him declaim as pompously as he can on the subject, it will be found at last to rest upon no better foundation than either his interest, his pride, his ease, or some such little and changeable passion, as will give us but small dependence upon his actions in matters of great stress.

Give me leave to illustrate this by an example. I know the banker I deal with, or the physician I usually call in, to be neither of them men of much religion: I hear them make a jest of it every day, and treat all its sanctions with so much scorn and contempt, as to put the matter past doubt. Well, notwithstanding this, I put my fortune into the hands of the one, and, what is dearer still to me, I trust my life to the honest skill of the other. Now, let me examine what is my reason for this great confidence. Why, in the first place, I believe that there is no probability that either of them will employ the power I put into their hands to my disadvantage. I consider that honesty serves the purposes of this life; I know their success in the world depends upon the fairness of their character; that they cannot hurt me without hurting themselves more.

But put it otherwise,-namely, that interest lay for once on the other side; that a case should happen wherein the one, without stain to his reputation, could secrete my fortune, and leave me naked in the world, or that the other could send me out of it, and enjoy an estate by my death, without dishonour to himself or his art;-in this case, what hold have I on either of them? Religion, the strongest of all motives, is out of the question. Interest, the next most powerful motive in this world, is strongly against me. I have nothing left to cast into the scale to balance this temptation. I must lie at the mercy of honour, or some such capricious principle. Strait security! for two of my best and most valuable blessings-my property and my life!

As, therefore, we can have no dependence upon morality without religion, so, on the other hand, there is nothing better to be expected from religion without morality; nor can any man be supposed to discharge his duties to God (whatever fair appearances he may hang out that

Y

he does so), if he does not pay as conscientious a regard to the duties which he owes to his fellow-creature.

This is a point capable in itself of strict demonstration. Nevertheless, 'tis no rarity to see a man whose real moral merit stands very low, who yet entertains the highest notion of himself in the light of a devout and religious man. He shall not only be covetous, revengeful, implacable, but even wanting in points of common honesty ;-yet because he talks loud against the infidelity of the age-is zealous for some points of religion-goes twice a day to church, attends the sacraments, and amuses himself with a few instrumental duties of religion,-shall cheat his conscience into a judgment that for this he is a religious man, and has discharged faithfully his duty to God; and you will find that such a man, through force of this delusion, generally looks down with spiritual pride upon every other man who has less affectation of piety, though perhaps ten times more moral honesty than himself.

This is likewise a sore evil under the sun; and I believe there is no one mistaken principle which, for its time, has wrought more serious mischiefs. For a general proof of this, examine the history of the Romish Church. See what scenes of cruelty, murders, rapines, bloodshed, have all been sanctified by a religion not strictly governed by morality!

In how many kingdoms of the world has the crusading sword of this misguided saint-errant spared neither age, merit, sex, nor condition! And, as he fought under the banners of a religion which set him loose from justice and humanity, he showed none-mercilessly trampled upon both-heard neither the cries of the unfortunate nor pitied their distresses.

If the testimony of past centuries in this matter is not sufficient, consider, at this instant, how the votaries of that religion are every day thinking to do service and honour to God by actions which are a dishonour and scandal to themselves.

To be convinced of this, go with me for a moment into the prisons of the Inquisition.-Behold Religion, with Mercy and Justice chained down under her feet, there sitting ghastly upon a black tribunal, propped up with racks and instruments of torment! Hark! what a piteous groan! See the melancholy wretch who uttered it just brought forth to undergo the anguish of a mock trial, and endure the utmost pains that a studied system of religious cruelty has been able to invent. Behold this helpless victim delivered up to his tormentors. His body so wasted with sorrow and long confinement, you'll see every nerve and muscle as it suffers. Observe the last movement of that horrid engine. What convulsions it has thrown him into! Consider the nature of the posture in which he now lies stretched. What exquisite torture he endures by it! Tis all nature can bear. Good God!

see how it keeps his weary soul hanging upon his trembling lips, willing to take its leave, but not suffered to depart. Behold the unhappy wretch led back to his cell,-dragged out of it again to meet the flames,-and the insults of his last agonies, which this principle - this principle that there can be religion without morality, has prepared for him.

The surest way to try the merit of any disputed notion, is to trace down the consequences such a notion has produced, and compare them with the spirit of Christianity. "Tis the short and decisive rule which our Saviour has left for these and such-like cases, and is worth a thousand arguments. By their fruits, says he, ye shall know them.

Thus religion and morality, like fast friends and natural allies, can never be set at variance without the mutual ruin and dishonour of them both; and whoever goes about this unfriendly office is no wellwisher to either, and whatever he pretends, he deceives his own heart, and I fear his morality as well as his religion will be vain.

I will add no farther to the length of this discourse, than by two or three short and independent rules, deducible from what has been said.

1st, Whenever a man talks loudly against religion, always suspect that it is not his reason, but his passions which have got the better of his creed. A bad life and a good belief are disagreeable and troublesome neighbours; and where they separate, depend upon it 'tis for no other cause but quietness' sake.

2dly, When a man thus represented tells you, in any particular instance, that such a thing goes against his conscience, always believe he means exactly the same thing as when he tells you such a thing goes against his stomach,present want of appetite being generally the true cause of both.

In a word, trust that man in nothing who has not a conscience in everything.

And in your own case remember this plain distinction-a mistake which has ruined thousands-that your conscience is not a law. No; God and Reason made the law, and has placed conscience within you to determine,-not like an Asiatic cadi, according to the ebbs and flows of his own passions; but like a British judge in this land of liberty, who makes no new law, but faithfully declares that glorious law which he finds already written.

XXVIII.-TEMPORAL ADVANTAGES OF

RELIGION.

'Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.'-PROV. III. 17.

THERE are two opinions which the inconsiderate are apt to take upon trust:-the first is, a vicious life is a life of liberty, pleasure, and happy ad