Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge. There is no speech nor language where their voice is not heard. Their line has gone out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world." The invisible things of our Creator, even his eternal power and Godhead, are thus clearly seen from the creation of the world,-"being understood by the things that are made."

So far the voice of nature utters a clear and decided declaration; and so far, those who have listened to no higher testimony, are reprehensible if they speak not what they believe, or what they would believe did they attend as they ought to the evidence around them. But when we attempt from these few isolated, though important truths, to form a system of religion,-something that may satisfy us as to the relation in which we stand to the powerful being who created the world, how very imperfect does all our knowledge appear,how unsatisfactory all our conclusions,-how dark and fearful our prospect of futurity!

The ancient philosophers of Greece and Rome could clearly perceive, that there was one great Author and Governor of all things-a Being of inconceivable glory, and of infinite power,-and therefore a Being widely different from those contemptible deities which the impure imagination of their poets had feigned, and which the perverted judgment of a degraded populace had accepted as the objects of their worship. They must thus have perceived that idolatry was not only a folly but a crime, and, in so far, they were guilty for not promulgating the truths they believed; and, in so far, they are liable to that fearful curse which is denounced against those who "confine the truth by unrighteousness."

But it may go far, perhaps, to palliate, though it cannot atone for their crime, that, when they attempted to carry out their own speculations, they were landed in most unsatisfactory conclusions; and if they attempted to guess, when they could no longer determine with certainty, their conjectures of futurity must have been only those of terror and despair. Not only must they have been convinced from the wondrous objects around them, of the power and glory of God, but from the conscience within them,-that monitor which whispers approbation to all that is good, and so loudly and bitterly condemns what is evil;they must have been impressed with the belief, that He, who gave them such a constitution, must himself be a lover of righteousness and a hater of iniquity. The voice of that monitor, however, they must have been conscious they had often disobeyed; and the thought cannot fail to have struck them, that in so doing, they had offended Him who had placed that monitor within them. They must thus have arrived at the conclusion, that they had forfeited the favor of him whom his works declared so mighty and so glorious. If they risked the thought of another state of being, where they should be brought into the more immediate presence of an offended God, how fearful must have been the prospect! If God were just, they must abide his righteous indignation; and if he were unjust the prospect was not more pleasing. Here was a very fearful dilemma, and yet this was the legitimate conclusion into which their inquiries must have landed them. We do not say, that all, or any of the ancient philosophers arrived at this conclusion, but if they did not, it was because, dreading the result, they shrunk from 'the inquiry.

Now, with such a revelation as this, what encouragement was there to promulgate their opinions? They could not come boldly forward with the great apostle of our faith, and say,-"We speak because we believe." All with themselves was darkness and doubt; or if their conjectures amounted to probability, it was a probability of the most fearful kind;-they felt that their opinions landed themselves in no satisfactory conclusions; or if they did seem to point to any one conclusion more decidedly, it was one of the most appalling nature, even that the whole world were exposed to the anger of a justly offended God.

This view of natural religion may serve to explain to us how the philosophers of ancient times were so enlightened, while the multitude around them were sunk in the most degraded ignorance. They did not think the truths they possessed worth promulgating, far less worth suffering for. Socrates, that prince of heathens, dashed the crown of martyrdom away from him, when it had been as easy for him to have gained it as to have refused it, disclaiming the honorable charge that was laid to him of despising the abominations with which he was surrounded, and even by his latest breath giving the order that the idolatry of his country should be sanctioned by his name.

They like very well to start objections, or even to throw the most insolent aspersions on the truths of Christianity; but when you ask them what they would substitute in its place, they can give no satisfactory answer. They are, in the true sense of the word, sceptics; they have no settled opinions. Infidels they are, too,-they doubt,--they disbelieve.

You see, then, that with such knowledge of God as his works can give, there is little en

couragement to promulgate that knowledge,-to speak, because we believe. We might more strikingly illustrate this, by contrasting the inactivity and easy carelessness of mere worshippers of nature in spreading what they profess to believe with the ardor and the self-denial of the apostles of our faith. Where, among the great and the wise, who have made reason their god, do we find an instance of suffering for conscience sake? Or, if a very few such examples can be adduced,-where do we find a single instance of martyrdom for the cause of truth? But I am almost forgetting that this part of my discourse is only an illustration; and is merely intended, by the darkness of its representation, to mark with a clearer outline, and paint with stronger coloring, that glorious dispensation under which we live.

But between the twilight darkness of nature, and the full blaze of that light which shines forth in revelation, there are many intermediate shades of brightness; and besides that dispensation of mercy under which we live, there is many a supposable way in which a perfect Being might have treated his rebellious dependants. You will excuse me, if, in order to illustrate, still farther, the perfection and excellence of the christian revelation, I dwell on some of the supposable revelations which the Deity might have made to us.

I am aware, that, to some, this may seem a very circuitous method of treating my subject, and I may appear to be continually hovering round the point I would be at, without ever actually reaching it. But it seems to me, that there are two methods by which a clear conception of any object may be presented, either by directly describing what it is, or by contrasting it with what it is not;-just as

the painter may delineate any object, either by actually coloring what he wishes to portray, or by encircling it with a ground of a color different from its own. Unquestionably, both in the case itself, and in the illustration, the former method, in most cases, is decidedly preferable; but it is as unquestionable, that there are a few instances in which the latter method is more advantageous. Such an instance, I conceive, is afforded by the subject which I am now attempting to set before. you. You have all heard of the gospel again and again; and with its peculiar doctrines, and the blessings which flow from them, you are intimately acquainted. Since you know, then, what the gospel is, I have hoped to throw some additional illustration around it, by contrasting it with what it is not. We all know what a blessing health is,— but how much more highly do we prize this blessing when just recovered from some painful disease. To return, then, from this digression, I remark,

The revelation of God might have been only a revelation of wrath.

Indeed, this is the kind of revelation, that, from any previous knowledge of the divine character, we should have expected. I have already attempted to show, that, if natural religion points to any conclusion, this is that conclusion; that God is just and holy, and that man by his sin has offended him. The word of God, we should expect, would sanction the declarations of his works, and would clearly reveal what they had but faintly indicated. And, accordingly, it is so. Revelations of God's

word do not give the lie to the testimony of his works. They speak one language, though the one utters its declarations with a voice more audible