this time than break in upon him: as Elijah reproached the god Baal, this domestic god was either talking, or pursuing, or was in a journey, or, peradventure, he slept, and could not be awoke. Perhaps he was gone out in company with HONOUR, to fight a duel, to pay off some debt at play, or dirty annuity, the bargain of his lust. Perhaps Conscience all this time was engaged at home, talking aloud against petty larceny, and executing vengeance upon some such puny crimes as his fortune and rank in life secured him against all temptation of committing so that he lives as merrily, sleeps as soundly in his bed, and, at the last, meets death with as much unconcern, perhaps much more so, than a much better man.

had got the keeping of his conscience, and all he had let him know of it was, that he must believe in the Pope, go to mass, cross himself, tell his beads, be a good Catholic; and that this in all conscience was enough to carry him to heaven. What!-if he perjures? Why— he had a mental reservation in it. But if he is so wicked and abandoned a wretch as you represent him,-if he robs or murders, will not Conscience, on every such act, receive a wound itself? Ay, but the man has carried it to confession; the wound digests there, and will do well enough, and in a short time be quite healed up by absolution.

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

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 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, sometimes 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.

I said the attempt is often made; and so it is; there being nothing more common than to

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 > 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 well wisher 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,-a 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

vantages; the second is-and which is the converse of the first-that a religious life is a servile and most uncomfortable state.

The first breach which the devil made upon human innocence was by the help of the first of these suggestions, when he told Eve that by eating of the tree of knowledge she should be as God, that is, she should reap some high and strange felicity from doing what was forbidden her. But I need not repeat the success. Eve learnt the difference between good and evil by her transgression, which she knew not before; but then she fatally learnt, at the same time, that the difference was only this, that good is that which can only give the mind pleasure and comfort, and that evil is that which must necessarily be attended, sooner or later, with shame and sorrow.

As the deceiver of mankind thus began his triumph over our race, so has he carried it on ever since by the very same argument of delusion; that is, by possessing men's minds early with great expectations of the present incomes of sin-making them dream of the wondrous gratifications they are to feel in following their appetites in a forbidden way-making them fancy that their own grapes yield not so delicious a taste as their neighbour's, and that they shall quench their thirst with more pleasure at his fountain than at their own. This is the opinion which at first too generally prevails, till experience and proper seasons of reflection make us all, at one time or other, confess that our counsellor has been (as from the beginning) an impostor, and that, instead of fulfilling these hopes of gain and sweetness in what is forbidden, on the contrary, every unlawful enjoyment leads only to bitterness and loss.

The second opinion, or, that a religious life is a servile and uncomfortable state, has proved a no less fatal and capital false principle in the conduct of inexperience through life; the foundation of which mistake arises chiefly from this previous wrong judgment, that true happiness and freedom lies in a man's always following his own humour; that to live by moderate and prescribed rules is to live without joy; that not to prosecute our passions is to be cowards, and to forego everything for the tedious distance of a future life.

Was it true that a virtuous man could have no pleasure but what should arise from that remote prospect, I own we are by nature so goaded on by the desire of present happiness, that was that the case, thousands would faint under the discouragement of so remote an expectation. But in the meantime the Scriptures give us a very different prospect of this matter. There we are told that the service of God is truc liberty-that the yoke of Christianity is easy, in comparison with that yoke which must be brought upon us by any other system of living; and the text tells of wisdom, by which is

meant religion, that it has pleasantness in its way, as well as glory in its end-that it will bring us peace and joy, such as the world cannot give. So that, upon examining the truth of this assertion, we shall be set right in this error, by seeing that a religious man's happiness does not stand at so tedious a distance, but is so present, and indeed so inseparable from him, as to be felt and tasted every hour; and of this even the vicious can hardly be insensible, from what he may perceive to spring up in his mind from any casual act of virtue. And though it is a pleasure that properly belongs to the good, yet let any one try the experiment, and he will see what is meant by that moral delight arising from the conscience of well-doing. Let him but refresh the bowels of the needy,-let him comfort the broken-hearted, or check an appetite, or overcome a temptation, or receive an affront with temper and meekness,—and he shall find the tacit praise of what he has done darting through his mind, accompanied with a sincere pleasure: conscience playing the monitor even to the loose and most inconsiderate in their most casual acts of well-doing, being like a voice whispering behind and saying, This is the way of pleasantness, this is the path of peace: walk in it.

But, to do further justice to the text, we must look beyond this inward recompense which is always inseparable from virtue, and take a view of the outward advantages, which are as inseparable from it, and which the Apostle particularly refers to when 'tis said godliness has the promise of this life as well as that which is to come; and in this argument it is that religion appears in all its glory and strength-unanswerable in all its obligations; that, besides the principal work which it does for us in securing our future well-being in the other world, it is likewise the most effectual means to promote our present, and that not only morally, upon account of that reward which virtuous actions do entitle a man unto from a just and wise Providence, but by a natural tendency in themselves which the duties of religion have to procure us riches, health, reputation, credit, and all those things wherein our temporal happiness is thought to consist; and this not only in promoting the well-being of particular persons, but of public communities, and of mankind in general, agreeably to what the wise man has left us on record, that righteousness exalteth a nation: insomuch that could we, in considering this argument, suppose ourselves to be in a capacity of expostulating with God concerning the terms upon which we would submit to his government, and to choose the laws ourselves which we would be bound to observe, it would be impossible for the wit of man to frame any other proposals which, upon all accounts, would be more advantageous to our own interests than those very conditions to which we are obliged by the rules