But further: religion will not only lead thoſe who are influenced by it to the exerciſe of juſtice in it's various branches; but will induce them to the exact performance of all thoſe duties of imperfect obligation which human laws cannot enforce. The civil magiſtrate takes no notice of and can neither reward the performance, nor puniſh the neglect of them; but the laws of God extend to them; and religion as ſtrongly exacts them as the duties of perfect obligation. The religious man conſiders them as truly binding, as the moſt obvious dictates of juſtice. He as much expects to be rewarded for the one, as the other. This will lead him to pay the moſt ſacred regard to the duties of gratitude, humanity, hoſpitality, charity,—in a word, to all thoſe kind and beneficent offices, which are ſo eſſentially neceſſary to the welfare of the community; tho' they are not, and indeed cannot be, the proper objects of human laws. We think it unneceſſary to enlarge upon the duties juſt now mentioned, by ſhewing how much the careful performance of them tends to ſtrengthen and confirm the ſocial union. The ſlighteſt conſideration will immediately convince us, of what vaſt importance they are to ſociety, and how much they promote peace, love, harmony, and conſequently felicity, in the ſocial ſtate. We need only conceive what would be the conſequence of the total neglect of theſe duties, to be fully convinced of their u • ility. What a ſhocking and deplorable ſcene of malice, hatred, ſtrife, cruelty, miſery, and diſtraction, opens upon the mind, on the ba • e ſuppoſition. And yet civil ſociety, as hath been obſerved, cannot enforce theſe duties, the practice of which is ſo neceſſary to its happineſs, and the neglect of which endangers its very exiſtence. If then religion enforces theſe duties, and leads men to the performance of them, it will certainly follow, that it is uſeful to the ſtate. Thus religion like a powerful ally, comes in to the aid of civil government, and by eſtabliſhing the ſanction of reward, which it wholly wants, ſupplies its defects.

But, in order more fully to demonſtrate how religion ſupplies the defects of civil ſociety, let it be obſerved, that it not only furniſhes the ſanction of reward, which it ſo much needs, but alſo ſuperadds a new ſanction of puniſhment, which co-operates with, and gives additional energy to human laws. The reader will pleaſe to remember, that we have already ſhewn, that civil ſociety can apply the ſanction of only in a very low and limited degree. Some crimes are ſecret and cannot be puniſhed by civil laws, becauſe they lie wholly beyond their reach. Others are of ſuch a nature, that the ſevere puniſhment of them opens an avenue to thoſe of a more atrocious nature. But this is not the caſe with the ſanction of puniſhment which religion eſtabliſhes. It applies to all crimes whatſoever, let their nature or circumſtances be what they may. Men may eſcape the puniſhment which civil ſociety decrees, by concealing their crimes; but they cannot thus elude that which religion holds out to all thoſe who violate her laws. They who believe that God governs the world in wiſdom and righteouſneſs, and that his providence extends to all his creatures, muſt alſo believe, that he is omniſcient, and, of conſequence, perfectly acquainted with all their actions and intentions. All who have a firm perſuaſion and proper impreſſion of this great religious truth, will be ſenſible, how vain it is to attempt to cover their crimes from him, whoſe all ſeeing eye penetrates the inmoſt receſſes of their hearts. Religion teaches, that all the tranſgreſſions of the wicked, tho' they may eſcape the obſervation of men, lie open to the deity, whoſe "eyes are like a flame of fire;" and who will in due time inflict that puniſhment which they juſtly deſerve. As the proſpect of impunity invites men to evil, ſo the certainty of puniſhment tends to reſtrain them from it, eſpecially if the puniſhment be unſpeakably great and dreadful. And ſuch, both chriſtians and heathens, have agreed to repreſent the puniſhment of vice in a future life. If then the dread of a puniſhment certain, terrible, and everlaſting, can have any influence on the minds of men, religion muſt be a powerful reſtraint, not only from open, but ſecret crimes. Where crimes are ſecret, or of ſuch a nature as not to be cognizable by human judicatures, the ſanction of civil laws ceaſes to operate, and is no longer of any ſervice to reſtrain from tranſgreſſion. Here religion comes in moſt opportunely to the aſſiſtance of civil ſociety, by impreſſing the idea of a future ſtate, an omniſcient tribunal, and a puniſhment which the guilty cannot poſſibly avoid. On the other hand where the crime is open, and liable to be by human laws, the ſanction of religion falls in with, and ſtrengthens that of human laws, by holding out a puniſhment much more certain, as well as more formidable, than man can inflict.

Men may be guilty of the blackeſt ingratitude, and, in general, totally neglect the duties of imperfect obligation, without incu • ring the leaſt danger from the civil powers. But altho' civil government ordains no penalties in this caſe, religion does; and thus furniſhes a remedy for that material defect. The man who lives under the belief and impreſſion of religion, looks upon himſelf accountable at the bar of the omniſcient for the neglect of thoſe duties. Tho' he is under no terror from the laws of men, he fears that future vengeance which awaits the guilty beyond the grave.

But it may be objected againſt the above reaſoning,— That religion is not ſo uſeful and neceſſary as hath been repreſented—That tho' civil ſociety labours under great deficiencies, there are other ways by which they may be ſupplied. It may be ſaid, that the regard which men have to their own intereſt, their own temporal happineſs and ſecurity, will naturally lead them to pay a ſtrict regard to the laws of ſociety, and alſo to perform thoſe duties which laws cannot enforce, as well as to avoid thoſe crimes which they cannot puniſh—That the happineſs of every individual in ſociety is involved with, and depends upon the happineſs of the whole. That every one may ſee, that without obedience to good and wholeſome laws, government muſt be rent into pieces, and he himſelf ſhare in the common ruin. And further, that the omiſſion even of thoſe duties which civil laws do not require, and the commiſſion of thoſe crimes which they cannot puniſh, muſt be injurious to the welfare of the ſtate, and conſequently to his own happineſs;—therefore a regard to his own intereſt, and temporal proſperity, muſt induce him to perform thoſe duties, and ſhun thoſe crimes.

To all which we beg leave to reply;—that it may be readily granted, without any diſadvantage to the argument, that the conſiderations mentioned, will have their weight with 〈…〉 it would betray no ſmall 〈…〉 ignorance of human nature to ſuppoſe, that thoſe things have any conſiderable influence on the bulk of mankind. They think but little of ſuch matters. They are not diſpoſed to attend to ſuch far-fetched deductions, nor to refine even thus far. Such kind of reaſonings, tho' obvious enough to thoſe who have attended to the nature and influence of civil ſociety, to them appears not a little intricate and perplexed. There is not perhaps a people on the face of the earth, more enlightened in the nature of civil government, than the Americans • and yet I ſuppoſe it may be modeſtly affirmed, that by far the greater part of them, reflect but little, how ſociety procures thoſe bleſſings which they enjoy; becauſe they are not immediately and directly the conſequence of it. The groſs of the common people are too much occupied about other matters, to examine remote conſequences, or trace their preſent happy and flouriſhing circumſtances to ſo diſtant a ſource as civil ſociety. They generally attribute theſe to their own prudence, induſtry and addreſs, without looking any further. For the moſt part they are purſuing their own private and ſeparate intereſt, little ſolicitous about the public good, tho' they may at the ſame time be promoting it. They ſeldom reflect, that they are a part of a whole, with which they are obliged to ſtand or fall; or conſider, that their happineſs depends upon that of the community of which they are members. Men who are immured in their ſtudies, and converſant chiefly with books, may wonder how people can be ignorant of theſe things: but let them travel through our country, and converſe with thoſe of the lower rank, who make the bulk in every government, and they will find great numbers, and thoſe not the worſt citizens, much like the ſimple Hibernian, who when he was informed the ſhip was ſinking, made this reply; "what do I care, I am only a paſſenger." In order, therefore, that the groſs of the people may diſcharge their duty as good citizens, ſome more obvious and immediate motive is neceſſary to ſupply the imperfection of civil laws;—ſome principle of action which comes more directly home to them, and affects them more immediately as individuals. Such 〈◊〉 of religion, which teaches, the virtuous ſhall be rewarded, and the vicious puniſhed in a future ſtate. This leading principle, which ſeems in a great meaſure natural to the mind of man, will have a much greater influence on the generality of mank • nd, and do more to ſupply the defects of civil ſociety than all the reaſonings in the world, which, tho' they may be juſt, are but little attended to by moſt men.

The whole of what is urged in the objection, under the notion of motive, may be reſolved into the principle of ſelf-love; which when duly modified, properly directed, and wiſely regulated, is no doubt, favourable to civil government. But who does not ſee, that the love of ſelf is almoſt always inordinate in the purſuit of preſent good, and frequently, by a blind and furious impulſe to preſent gratification, breaks thro' all the fences of law, and leads men to all manner of violence and injuſtice. Indeed, to counteract and reſtrain the exceſs of this paſſion, and correct the evils which ariſe from it, is the very deſign of the civil compact. This government attempts, by laying hold on this ſame principle, the ſtrongeſt in human nature, and endeavouring to prevent its ill effects, by giving it an oppoſite direction. This it can do but very imperfectly by its own proper power; and therefore ſtands in need of aid from ſome other quarter. Here religion affords the neceſſary aſſiſtance; for by inculcating a future retribution, and thus exciting the hopes and the fears of men, ſhe oppoſes ſelf-love to ſelf-love. My meaning is, that ſhe oppoſes the love of ſelf as deſiring future good, and ſhunning future evil, to the love of ſelf conſidered as purſuing the unlawful gratification of preſent irregular ap • etite. The language of civil laws is, "if you tranſgreſs, through an inordinate love of ſelf, you ſhall be puniſhed:" which very threatening is an application to the ſelfiſh principle, ſelf-love always leading men to avoid that which they reckon in its nature evil. The language of religion is "if you carefully obſerve the wiſe and ſalutary laws of your countr • , and faithfully diſcharge the duties of a good citizen, you ſhall have an ample reward; but if hurried away by the impulſe of ſelfiſh paſſions, you violate the laws, and the rights of your fellow-citizens, the moſt dreadful puniſhment awaits you." It is eaſy to ſee how far the language of both coincides. They only differ in this, that the one reaches further than the other. The one denounces puniſhment, but promiſes no reward; the other not only promiſes a reward, but threatens a more dreadful puniſhment. Civil laws lay hold, more eſpecially, on mens fears; religion both on their hopes and their fears. Both addreſs themſelves to the ſelfiſh paſſions; both oppoſe ſelf-love to ſelf-love, in the ſenſe already explained. But grant all that is ſuppoſed in the objection, it will by no means overthrow our argument. We have no where aſſerted, that there are no other principles in human nature, beſides religion, which tend in any degree to remedy the imperfections of ſociety; but only, that religion is the moſt proper and natural remedy. Whatever may any how ſerve as a foundation of moral obligation, if indeed there may be any ſuch foundation diſtinct from the will of the ſupreme, as the moral ſenſe, the eſſential difference of things; theſe, as far as they lead men to approve and practiſe virtue, and ſhun vice, tend to promote the happineſs of ſociety. If a principle of honor and ſhame, a regard to character and dread of contempt and diſgrace, induce men to virtuous actions, and reſtrain them from the contrary, they muſt be conſidered as contributing in ſome degree to ſupply the defects of civil laws. I am, however, perſuaded, that upon a careful examination, theſe will be found not to have all that influence ſome may imagine. They are not a little precarious, and depend much upon time, place, education, cuſtom and faſhion. What is reckoned honorable at one time and place, is not reckoned ſo at another. Cuſtom and faſhion, which exerciſe a kind of deſpotiſm over us in matters of leſs conſequence, introduce very conſiderable changes even in moral ſentiments and conduct. That rigid virtue and auſterity of manners which ſo ſtrongly marked the riſe of the Roman republic, would have appeared ridiculous and contemptible, when that empire began to decline. That ſtyle of manners which was reckoned honorable, and procured the higheſt veneration in Cromwell's time, was the object of ſcorn and deriſion, under the voluptuous reign of the ſecond Charles. Cuſtom hath reconciled many of the Carolinians and Georgians to a treatment of their ſlaves which a Pennſylvanian looks upon with horror; it is a cuſtom among ſome ſavage nations to expoſe infants; and this practice prevailed among the Athenians and ſeveral other Grecian ſtates, tho' civilized in a very high degree. And to increaſe our wonder, it was defended and inculcated by their greateſt philoſophers. We look upon this cuſtom with the utmoſt abhorrence, we conſider it as the higheſt pitch of barbarity, and the moſt ſhocking violation of the laws of nature and humanity; but among them, it was no way diſgraceful, and paſt without blame or cenſure. After all, from the inſtances given above, we muſt not conclude, as ſome have done, that there is no other difference in moral actions and ſentiments than that which ariſes from education, cuſtom, or opinion. The foundations of morality are more deep and ſtable, than to be overthrown ſo eaſily as ſuch men imagine. There are ſome actions and characters to which no education or cuſtom whatever can reconcile men. Cuſtom can never bring us to approve of ingratitude and treachery; and to look upon them as honorable and worthy of praiſe as gratitude and faithfulneſs. Becauſe men in ſome particular inſtances, thro' the influence of cuſtom or education, act contrary to what we reckon the plain rules of morality, it will not follow that theſe rules have no other foundation. This would prove too much; for by the ſame method of arguing, we might prove, that there is no ſuch thing as a principle of reaſon in men; becauſe in millions of inſtances, cuſtom and education lead them to act contrary to its plain dictates. Let the moral ſenſe, the eſſential difference, the principles of honor and ſhame, have all the weight which can with any ſhow of reaſon be allowed them, enough will ſtill be left for religion. With all the aſſiſtance which theſe can afford, human laws will be found but a weak fence againſt the violence and injuſtice of men.

The capable reader will have obſerved, that we have cautiouſly avoided to embroil ourſelves in thoſe diſputes which have been agitated concerning the foundation of moral obligation.

It is well known that three different opinions have been advanced on this head: ſome founding it on the moral ſenſe, others on the eſſential difference of things, and others on the will of God. Strictly ſpeaking, perhaps this laſt only, can properly oblige men. But in order to maintain this, it is not neceſſary to exclude the other two from all influence on morality. Where is the abſurdity of allowing all three a ſhare in leading men to the practice of virtue? Without determining any thing poſitively concerning this matter, we have endeavored to prove, that religion cannot be conſidered as unneceſſary, even on the principles of thoſe who are moſt ſtrongly attached to the moral ſenſe and the eſſential difference. Theſe two have indeed, of late, been the hobby-horſes of their reſpective patrons. They make the principal figure in the writings of moſt of our modern moraliſts, not to ſay divines. The will of God, or what comes nearly to the ſame thing, religion, which is indeed the only proper and ſtable foundation of morality, is either wholly excluded, or brought in only by the bye, as a matter of little or no • conſequence. Theſe ſine-ſpun ſyſtems, however much they may diſplay the ingenuity of their authors, have but very little tendency to promote virtue, and reform the manners of the people; and therefore can be of little ſervice to ſociety. It is not eaſy to ſee how the moral ſenſe, or the eſſential difference, or both taken together, when conſidered as wholly diſtinct from religion, if indeed they can be ſo conſidered, can properly eſtabliſh the ſanction of future reward and puniſhment. This we have ſhewn is of the greateſt moment to civil government; and hence ariſes the ſingular utility of religion.

The abſtract beauty of virtue may operate upon profound reaſoners,—that pleaſure which ariſes from thoſe actions which the moral ſenſe approves, may have its weight with men of elegant minds and delicate ſentiments; but neither of them will have much effect upon the great body of mankind. They will be always found to operate but very faintly upon many, who have, generally, "quick ſenſes, ſtrong paſſions and groſs intellects." This ſingle obſervation ſhows of how little conſequence they are, when compared with religion, which is calculated to operate upon the bulk of the common people in every ſociety.

Upon the whole, tho' we ſhould grant that other things co-operate with religion in ſupplying the defects of civil ſociety, we need not fear to conclude, that this is the moſt proper, and at the ſame time, the moſt powerful remedy.

Before we conclude this part, it will be neceſſary to add a few words concerning the uſe of oaths, which may be conſidered as a diſtinct argument, to prove the influence of religion on civil ſociety. Solemn oaths, as far as I can learn, have obtained in all civilized nations. It is well known, what amazing force and influence they had upon the Romans in the virtuous period of their republic. In the greateſt extremity, and moſt preſſing dangers, theſe were their dernier reſort. We have inſtances enow of this in their hiſtory. Let one ſuffice in this place: After the battle of Cannae, the people were ſtruck with ſuch a panic terror, that they talked of removing to Sicily. But Scipio had the addreſs to obtain an oath from them, that they would not leave Rome. The dread of violating this oath overwhelmed all other apprehenſions. "Rome," ſays the excellent Monteſquieu, "was a ſhip held by two anchors, religion and morality, in the midſt of a furious tempeſt."

If Mr. Locke, and the American politicians, argue right, all legitimate government is originally founded on compact. This compact is uſually ratified by ſolemn oaths. The chief magiſtrate, who is inveſted with the ſupreme executive power, is bound by oath, faithfully and impartially to execute the laws, and govern agreeably to them. In like manner, every citizen is bound to aid and ſupport him, as far as he acts conformably to his ſolemn engagement. Among us, it is well known, that all civil officers from the governor down to the conſtable, are obliged by oath, to the diſcharge of their reſpective truſts. The policy, and even neceſſity of all this, is very obvious; for altho' our civil officers are amenable for their conduct, and liable to be puniſhed upon conviction, this can be no ſecurity againſt clandeſtine fraud. Here the religion of an oath is neceſſary, to reſtrain the • from thoſe ſecret mal-practices, which, however injurious to the public, cannot be legally detected. The ſecurity of life and property depends, in a great meaſure, upon oaths The innocent cannot be abſolved, nor the guilty puniſhed without them. In the moſt important judicial proceedings, the verdict ultimately reſts upon their validity. Take away the uſe o • theſe religious affirmations, and our courts of judicature muſt ceaſe, or be almoſt entirely uſeleſs. In a word civil government can by no means be carried on without them. If oaths be thus neceſſary to the adminiſtration of government, religion muſt be ſo; for where there is no religion, there can be no oath. Take away the belief of a deity, a providence and future ſtate, and there is an end of all oaths at once. In every oath a deity is invoked, as a witneſs and avenger, if we deviate from the truth. The atheiſt, therefore, cannot be bound by it. He who believes there is no providence or future ſtate, can be in no dread of puniſhment, either in this or a coming world, if he can only elude human judicatures. The greateſt free thinker, or moſt abandoned proſtigate in our country, would place very little dependence on the oath of one who believes there is neither God nor devil, heaven nor hell. Civil laws do indeed hold out a ſevere puniſhment to deter men from perjury; but as it is one of thoſe crimes, of which a perſon can ſeldom be legally convicted, ſuch laws ſtrike but little terror, and are of very little ſervice. The perjured villain may repeat his crime an hundred times without any danger from human laws. If therefore, the laws of religion have no hold upon him, his oath is perfectly inſignificant, eſpecially, where he is under temptation to depart from the truth. We may therefore venture to affirm, that the obligation of oaths is properly founded on religion; and that whatever weight we allow them above a ſimple affirmation, ariſes from a ſuppoſition, that the deponent believes there is a God. the rewarder of truth and the avenger of perjury, to whom he makes a ſolemn appeal. This ſingle conſideration, were there no other arguments, is ſufficient to evince the utility, and even the neceſſity of religion to civil ſociety. For if government cannot be carried on without the uſe of oaths, and the validity of theſe depend upon religion, the conſequence is unavoidable, that civil ſociety cannot ſubſiſt without religion. We proceed to the ſecond head of argument.

In order to ſhow the influence of the chriſtian religion on civil ſociety, it will be neceſſary to conſider—the doctrines it teaches—the worpſhip it enjoins—and the precepts it inculcates. The two firſt, ſhall be treated briefly; the laſt requires a more ample diſcuſſion.

I. Of the doctrines which chriſtianity teaches.

Under this head it will not be neceſſary to treat all the doctrines of our religion, but only thoſe which more immediately and directly tend to the benefit of ſociety. Such are thoſe concerning the nature of the deity, his providence, and a future ſtate of rewards and puniſhments.

In thoſe ſacred writings which contain our religion, we have ſuch a repreſentation of the nature and attributes of the great firſt cauſe, as gives us the moſt grand, noble and worthy conceptions of him. The divine character as there drawn, is ſuited to inſpire ideas at once the moſt auguſt and awful, the moſt venerable and lovely. His irreſtible power, inflexible juſtice and tremendous majeſty; his infinite knowledge and immaculate purity, tend to fill us with the moſt profound awe and reverence; to deter us from every thing that may provoke him, and conſequently to reſtrain us from every kind of immorality. Theſe perfections of the deity leave the impenitent and perſiſting rebel no hope of eſcaping the righteous vengeance of heaven. His diffuſive benevolence, the riches of his goodneſs, the extent of his mercy, his patience and readineſs to pardon the repenting and returning ſinner, are calculated to inſpire us with ſentiments of love and gratitude, encourage us to renounce our vicious practices, and hope in his mercy. In a word, the due conſideration of his attributes, as repreſented in our religion, neceſſarily tends to reſtrain us from all vice, and excite us to walk in the paths of piety and virtue; and conſequently to promote our happineſs as ſocial beings.

It muſt be confeſſed, even by thoſe who are inclined to think moſt favourably of the ancient Heathens, tha • they generally entertained very groſs and unworthy notions of their deities; and ſuch as plainly tended to corrupt their morals, and encourage them in an indulgence of the ſenſual paſſions, very pernicious to civil ſociety. Their Gods, as the poet well expreſſes it, were "Gods partial, changeful, paſſionate, unjuſt, "Whoſe attributes were rage, revenge or luſt."

The amorous intrigues, the rapes, quarrels, thefts, &c. for which they were celebrated, are juſtly reckoned ſcandalous among mortal men. There was ſcarcely any vice, the practice of which was not countenanced by ſome of their deities, male or female. Indeed when we conſider the immoralities aſcribed to the gods of the Heathens, it is ſurpriſing they were not more corrupt and diſſolute in their manners. There muſt have been ſome powerful antidote in their civil inſtitutions, which counteracted the influence of religious errors ſo deſtructive of all morality. The idea which chriſtianity gives us of the infinite purity of that God whom we worſhip, has a quite contrary tendency. In a word, the perfections of the deity held up to view in divine revelation are ſuch, that the ſerious conſideration and devout contemplation of them, muſt neceſſarily fill us with an abhorrence of all impurity and vice of every kind. The more nearly we reſemble him, and the more perfectly we imitate him, the more virtuous we are, and the more diſpoſed to diſcharge all the ſocial duties.

The doctrines, which chriſtianity teaches concerning the divine providence, give us the moſt exalted conceptions of the deity. They are perfectly conſonant to, and indeed the neceſſary conſequence of, his attributes. What a ſublime idea does it give us of the great Jehovah, when we conſider him as "ruling in the army of heaven, and amongſt the inhabitants of this lower world;" exerciſing an abſolute ſupreme and univerſal dominion over all his creatures; ſuſtaining them by his power, directing them by his wiſdom, and ſupplying them by his bounty? The God whom we are taught to worſhip, is no local deity like thoſe of the Heathens, preſiding over this or that portion of nature; the guardian of this or that particular city or country, inhabiting this or that particular river, grove or mountain. He fills the vaſt and complicated machine of the univerſe, touches every ſpring, moves every wheel, and adjuſts every motion. He is the f • untain not only of being, but of all operation; the ſource of all that beauty, order and harmony which are diffuſed over the wide creation, and fill the attentive beholder with ſuch inexpreſſible delight. His providence extends to the leaſt as well as the greateſt of his works. None of his creatures, however inſignificant, eſcape his notice: he regards them all with an equal and impartial eye. They are all the objects of his parental care, all the ſubjects of his governing power and wiſdom. With what beauty and emphaſis does the inſpired poet ſet forth the exuberant goodneſs of the creator, in the ample proviſion he makes for the various tribes of animals which inhabit this ſpacious earth? "The lord is good to all; and his tender mercies are over all his works. The eyes of all wait upon thee, and thou giveſt them their meat in due ſeaſon. Thou openeſt thy hand and ſatisfieſt the deſire of every living thing." But although his benificence is extended to all his creatures, thoſe who devote themſelves to his ſervice are the objects of his peculiar care. "The young lions may lack and ſuffer hunger; but they that ſeek the Lord ſhall not want any good thing. Their bread ſhall be given them, their water ſhall be ſure." He who "feeds the young ravens that cry and clothes the graſs of the field," will much more give his own ſervants food to eat and raiment to put on.

When the devout chriſtian contemplates the providence of God in this view, and conſiders all things as under the government, and at the ſovereign diſpoſal of a being infinitely juſt, wiſe and powerful, whoſe goodneſs, like an overflowing fountain, is continually diffuſing its ſtreams over the whole c • ea • ion, and who hath pledged his truth that "all things ſhall work together for his good;" it cannot fail, to inſpire confidence and tranquility, and afford him conſolation under the heavi • ſt calamities. He looks up to the bounty of his heavenly father, who, with a benignant hand, pours out the bleſſings of his providence. In the uſe of the appointed means he depends upon his parental care and mu •• ficence, nor dreads approaching poverty or want. Contented with that portion of temporal good things which prov • dence hath allotted to him, he is not diſpoſed to encroach upon the property of others, either by fraud or violence. Satisfied with the ſtation, tho' humble, in which heaven hath fixed him, he envies not the rich and the great, nor is anxious for change. With ſuch a temper as this, he cannot • ail of being an honeſt, quiet, and peaceable member of ſociety. Such a diſpoſition, eſpecially in governments which enjoy a great ſhare of l • berty, is perhaps, of more importance than is generally imagined. Diſcontentment with our preſent condition, envy of wealth and power, and an immoderate fondneſs of change, are the ſource of innumerable evils in ſociety. At leaſt, it is certain they were ſo in the republic of Rome, which was continually embroiled by the fierce diſputes between the Patricians and the Plebeans. And, if I miſtake not, much of the preſent uneaſineſs, ſtrife, and political contention in South Carolina, may be traced to the ſame ſource. If every citizen, with a chriſtian temper, would acquieſce in that wiſe plan of providence, which ordains a certain ſubordination of rank and office in the political body; and conſider that in this very thing the beauty, order, and even the excellence of ſociety, very • uch conſiſts, we would not have ſo many factious and turbulent ſpirits amongſt us. We would not then ſee ſo many, who, prompted by ambitious and aſpiring paſſions, are continually graſping after power and wealth and high ſtations, endeav • ring to pull down all who are above, and oppreſs all below them A juſt view of providence as taught by our religion, would lead us to conſider, that in every government, there muſt be high and low, rich and poor. This would make us eaſy and contented with the lot which heaven has aſſigned to us and convince u • , that in acting our part well, wh • ther it be a high, or a low one, "all the honor lies."

The ways of providence, often indeed, ap • ear dark and m • ſterious, even to the moſt careful obſervers, while here in this world, becauſe the plan is impe • fectly comprehended. The wicked who break th • ough all the laws of God and man, are of • en proſperous, and in appearance hap • y, wh • e the righteous are oppreſſed and born down with • he heavieſt affl • ctions and calamities. But when the vaſt chain, of which we now ſee only a few detached li • ks, will be u • folded; when the curtai • of time is drawn aſide, and eternity opens upon us; when the mighty drama, if I may ſo expreſs it, winds u • , then we will ſee the juſtice of all the divine d • ſpenſations—then the good man ſhall be rewarded, the wicked puniſhed, and the ways of God to man fully vindicated. The laſt act will unravel all, and exhibit every character in its true light. The chriſtian conſiders all this, and therefore, though he cannot ſee through the dark maze o • providence, he adores, in ſi • ence, what he is not able to fa • hom, and ſubmits without repining to the determinations of heaven. He poſſ • ſſes his ſoul in patience, and looks forward to that great deciſive day, when the juſtice of the ſu • reme ruler will triumph in the reward of virtue and the puniſhm • n • of vice This natura • ly leads to the doctrine of a future ſtate, wh • ch is a part of the ſtupendous plan of providence, and of the utm • ſt importance to civil ſociety. It is acknowledged, that this doct • i • e was of general bel • ef a • ong the civilized heathens; and we have ſuppoſed, that it was of ſingular utility to their civil policy But it is beyond all d • ubt, that chr • ſt • ans have advantages vaſtly ſuper • or in this particular, for which they are wholly indebted to d • vine revelation. Though the Hea • h • ns expected a righteous judgment to come, and to be rewarded or puniſhed hereafter according as they behaved then ſelves here, they were much in the dark as to the circumſtances of that judgment, and the nature of thoſe rewards and puniſhments. All who are acquainted with their writings, will readily own, tha • • hen 〈◊〉 concerning theſe things, were very abſurd, groſs and • uerile. But in the ſcriptures, eſpecially in the N. I. where "life • n imm • rtality are brough • to light," we have all theſe p • rticulars unfolded, a far as • nfin • te w • ſdom ſees neceſſary to our hap • ineſs; and as far perhaps, as we are able to comprehe • d them, in our preſent imperfect ſtate. The awful proceſs of the general judgment is repreſ • nted in ſuch a man • er, •• is ſu • ed to give us the moſt d • ep and ſolemn impr • ſſions o • that great and te •• ible day.

The character of the judge; his deſcent to judgment, in all the p • mp and majeſty of a God; the un • ufferable ſ • lendor of his appearance; his b • ight angeli • retinue; the ſolemn and tremendous ſound of the laſt trumpet, which announces his approach and uſhers in the awful ſcene; are all deſ • ribed with a gra • deur and boldneſs of image • , • force and elevation of • anguage, which no human • en can reach. The reſurrection of the dead, by the all-awakening voice of the ſon of God; the cha • ge of the living, and th •• appearance, in one vaſt aſſembly, before • h judge ſeated on his burning throne; the applauding ſentence of the righteous▪ the juſt and terrible doom of the wicked; are ſet before us with ſuch ſublimity of though, and energy of expreſſion as ſeem beſt adapted to arreſt the attention, and impreſs the heart. Sympathiſing nature adds to the ſolemnity and terror of the day. The 〈◊〉 is darkened; the moon turned into b • ood; lightnings fl • ſh, thunders roar; "the heavens paſs away wi • h a great no • ſe, the elements melt with ſervent hea • ," and the earth diſſolves in fire.

For the ſake of brevity, ſ • me of th • ſe texts, in which the final judgmen • is deſcribed, are referred to below: and wh • ever will pleaſe to turn to them, and read with attention, muſt be ſtruck with the majeſty and grandeur of the ſentiments, if he have any taſte for what is truly great and ſublime. How mean and trifling are the fictions of the Heathen poets; their repreſentations of Minos and R • a • a • anthus 7.9 10.—Rev. 20.11.12.13.2. Theſſ 1.7.8.9. 〈◊〉 • 1. and ſeq. thus ſeparating the pious from the impious, and aſſigning the •• ther diſtr • ct abodes, when compa • ed with • he deſcriptions which divine revelation gives us of the laſt judgment!

The rewards, which chriſtianity propoſes to all her ſi • cure votaries are the moſt great and glorious imaginable. They are pure, refi • ed, intellectual, much more excellent and worthy of a rationa • creature, than thoſe of any other religion The Elyſium of the Heathens makes a poor and contem • tible figure, when compared with the heaven of ch •• ſtia • s. Their "veſtow meads of Aſphod •• ," and b • we • s of Amaranth; their com • a • s • unning, wreſtling, muſic and dancing, will not bea • a compa • iſon with thoſe ſub • me joys and intellectual pleaſures, which ou • religion promiſes, as the reward of virtuous and pious ſ • u • s. The company and converſation of pious heroes poets and philoſophers, which ſeems to have been the moſt exal • ed notion that even a Socrates formed of future happineſs, though much more reaſonable and worthy of an intelligent nature, is nothing more than may be enjoyed in the preſent life. How far does even this fall ſhort of the ſociety of angels and the ſpirits of juſt men made perfect, and of that happineſs which conſiſts in the knowledge, contemplation and fruition of the chief good; by which our natures are exalted to the higheſt pitch of perfection and felicity? Wh •• a deſpicable idea of future happineſs do ſ • me of the more ſenſual Jews frame to themſelves, w • en they place it in delicious feaſts and rich banquets? The paradiſe of the Mahometans is ſtill more vile and ſordid. How unwo • thy of rational creatures! to ſuppoſe that their ſupreme felicity conſiſts in go • d fare, and the fruition of pleaſu • es altogether ſen • ua • , which brutes enjoy in a mo • e exquiſite degree.

Chriſtianity reproba • es every thing of this kind, and exhibits pleaſures more noble, ſolid and permanent than the richeſt entertainments, the muſt exquiſite ſenſual delights. Whatever is reckoned great or glorious, grand or magnificient, among mortal • ; whatever affords the higheſt ſatisfaction, the moſt intenſe and poignant pleaſure; in this wor • d, all theſe are employed by the inſpired penmen, only as emblems of the heavenly felicity. Kingdoms, thrones, cro ••• s, are bu • • a • t reſemblan • es of "that exceeding and eternal we • ght of glory which ſhall be revealed hereafte • ." The moſt ſump • u • us banque • s, where the gentle fire of • ove lig • ts up every counterance, j • y tranſports, and friendſhip w • rms are but • mperfect repreſentations of that "rulneſs of joy which is in the preſence of God, and thoſe rivers of immorta • pleaſure which fl • w at his right hand." The ſacred w •• ers, who make uſe of theſe earthly images, inform us at the ſame time, that the celeſtial happineſs is great beyond compariſon, and far tranſcends our higheſt conceptions.— "As it is written, eye hath not ſeen nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him."

Further; chriſtianity not only gives us the moſt noble and rational repreſentation of that immenſe and u • ut • erable reward which awaits good men in the eternal world; but alſo exhibits the moſt terrible and ſtriking picture of that puniſhment which will be i • fl • cted on the wicked. The Heathen writers have been much more happy in their deſcriptions of the latter than the farmer. Their deep and diſmal dungeons, dark and dreary caverns, whirlpools of fil • h and torren • s of fi • e; their endleſs labours, rack • ng whee • s and tormenting furies, are no faint images of terror, and bear a conſiderable analogy to the chriſtian notions on this head. But what are theſe, when compared with the deſcriptions, which the pen of inſpiration gives us of he •• , the ſeat of en • aged juſtice and burning vengeance; and of thoſe eternal pains which the enkindled wrath of the almighty inflicts upon the wrecked ghoſts, who are condemned to thoſe gloomy ma • ſi • ns of endleſs horror and deſpa •• ? "The blackneſs of darkneſs forever; the worm that neve • d • es, a • d the fire that is not quenched; weeping, wa • ing and g • aſhing of • e • th; fire, brimſtone and an horrible tempeſt" What gloomy and dreadful images are theſe! How awfully grand and ſtriking! How w ••• accommodated to awaken our fears, to de • er us from evil, and ſt • mulate us to the practice of piety and virtue; without which we canno • expect to weape the threatened puniſhment! whoever will take the trouble to conſult th • numerous paſſages of holy writ, where the future puniſhment of the wicked • s deſcribed, will perceive how w •• l they are • u • ed to convey the moſt ſtrong and terrible • leas of extr • m • unutterab • e miſery. In all the Heathen writings, we cannot find ſuch awfu • and ſt • iking pictures of the keen anguiſh, he unſpeakable agony and horror of thoſe guilty wretches, who "lie down in ſorrow and make their bed in he •• ." Two of the greateſt H • a •• en poets have tried their ſtrength, and exerted the whole force of their talents, in deſcribing a future ſtate. All thoſe great and ſplendid images, all that rich and b • autiful colouring which the bold glowing, and creative fancy of Homer, or the fi • e, correct and copious imagination of Virgil could beſtow have been employed to heighten and embelliſh the ſubject. After all, I think every capable and candid judge will allow, that their repreſentations are far from being equal to thoſe of ſcripture, even in point of ſublimity; not to mention other things of much greater importance. Hear what an eminent and judicious prelate of the Engliſh church ſays on this ſubject Biſhop T • ll ſon, after having given a deſcription of the laſt day from ſcripture, has the following paſſage: "I appeal to any man whether this be not a repreſentation of things very proper and ſuitable to that great day, wherein he that made the world ſhall come to judge it? And whether the wit of man ever deviſed any thing ſo awful and ſo agreeable to the majeſty of G • d, and the ſolemn judgment of the whole world? The deſcript • ons which Vi • g • l makes of the Elyſian fields, and the in • ernal regions, how infinitely do they fall ſhort o • the majeſty of the h •• y ſcriptures, and the deſcription there made of heaven and hell, and of the great and terrible day of the lord! ſo • hat in compariſon they are child • ſh and tr • fling. A • d yet perhaps he had the moſt regular and moſt governed imagination of any man that ever lived, and obſerved the greateſt decorum in his characters and deſcription • ." "But who can deci •• e the great things of God, but he to whom God ſhall reveal them?"

Theſ • few hints concerning the chriſtian doctrines of a righteous judgment to come, and a future ſtate of rewards and puniſhments may ſerve to ſhow of how much importance they are to civil ſociety. He who firmly believes in a future judgment, and reflects with any degree of ſeriouſneſ • on the awful ſolemnities of that great and terrible day, when he muſt ſtand before an almighty and omniſcient judge and give an account of all his actions, cannot but be influenced in ſome meaſure by ſuch a belief. And the influence which ſuch a proſpect has upon the minds of men muſt be fav • urable to civil government, by reſtraining their paſſions, cu • bing •• entiouſneſs, and deterring them from violence and injuſti • e.

Who that firmly believes, and ſeriouſly contemplates the immenſe and unſpeakable rewards which await the righteous in a future •• e, can avoid being allured to the purſuit of v • rtue? Who that looks forward, and conſiders the awful doom of • h • ſe who perſiſt in a courſe of vice and impiety, can boldly and without remorſe, go on in the road which leads to eternal miſery?I have all along taken it for granted, that the puniſhments which chriſtianity holds up to the wicked in a future ſtate, are eternal in the ſtrict and proper ſenſe. The contrary opinion is embraced and propogated with much zeal, by ſome preachers in America. Leaving it to the clergy who • e province it more eſpecially is, to defend the truth in this particular, it is to my purpoſe only to obſerve, that the doctrine of univerſal final ſalvation for all men, even the moſt wicked, tends to e • coura • e immorality, and conſequently is pernicious to civil ſociety. The moſt ingenious advocates of this doctrine, though they may deny, cannot obviate this odious conſequence; which, were there no other arguments, ought to convince every man, • at their notions are fal • and dangerous. The • r • p •• t • rs of • u • h poiſonous doctrines ought to be 〈◊〉 , and •• e • ed with com •••• y 〈◊〉 • riends of civil government; i • from no other, at leaſt from political motives. "It is impoſſible," ſays an excellent writer, "to bi • defiance to eternal ruin without ſome refuge in imagination, ſome preſumption of eſcape▪ As long as men really believe, that there is a juſt God who w • ll pu • iſh their crimes in a future ſtate, they will be under ſome reſtrain • . They ſeldom give themſelves over to a life of • vowed vice and immorality, until they come to doubt of diſbelieve this truth. Hence it is, that they are obliged to take refuge in •• fidelity▪ before they can wholly ſilence the clamours of conſcience; and ſin at eaſe The chriſtian doctrines of a future judgment, of heaven and of hell, have a greater influence, even on them ſt • pr • fl • gate, than perhaps is generally imagined; and if men were under no reſtraint from this quarter, we ſhould find them much more difficult to govern • han they are. Lord Shafiſbury tells us, "that among the vulgar, a heaven and a hell may prevail, where a jail and a g • l • ows a • e • hought inſufficient And yet this is the man who was for ſubſtituting a fine taſte inſtead of religion for the regulation of mens manners. If indeed this nob • e author could give all m • n a ju •• taſte, it would be doing ſomething: but who does not ſee, that this is impoſſible? As one of his anſwerers well obſerves, "he might as well think of making them all lords."

I have often wondered at the abſurdity of thoſe men, who glory in the name of patriot, as this celebrated writer certainly did; and yet make it their buſineſs to ridicule religion and weaken its obligations. They acknowledge, that it is a neceſſary reſtra • nt on the manners of the multitude, and therefore uſeful to government; and yet do their utmoſt to bring it into contempt. I know no better way to expoſe the inconſiſtency of ſuch men, than by comparing them to an architect, who with much coſt and labour raiſes and adorns the ſuperſtructure, while he is pulling away the main pillars which ſupport the fabric. Can that man be reckoned a genuine lover of his country, who endeavours to p • omote vi • e and corrupt the morals of the people? And I muſt take the liberty to think, that this is the caſe of all th • ſe who propagate infidelity, and under the odious name of ſuperſtition endeavour to blacken chriſtianity, and e • a • i •• te all ſenſe of religion from the minds of men. I • I miſtake not, we have ſome patriots of this ſtamp among ourſelves, who by their comment of all religion, their malicious ſnee • s and ſly inſinuations, are contributing largely to the deſtruction of their country. They may do many things 〈◊〉 and beneficial to the public; but while they are raiſing up with one hand, they are pulling down with the other. They would reckon it an unpardonable outrage for any one even to inſinuate, that they are not faſt friends of government; and yet make no ſcruple of ridiculing the moſt ſacred and important truths of religion; and by their looſe, immoral lives, and the poiſon of their example, are ſapping one of the principal pillars on which it reſts. Suppoſe ſome of theſe zealous patriots ſhould be ſo ſuccesful as to proſelyte all the citizens of South Carolina, and baniſh all thoſe fables of a heaven and hell from the minds of the credulous multitude; I ſhould be glad to know what they think would be the conſequence. Would men become better members of ſociety, if all the ſentiments of religion, which as a great polititian obſerves, "are perhaps the only motive of honeſty in the greateſt part of mankind," were utterly aboliſhed? It hath been often obſerved, that theſe ſage unbelievers, who think themſelves too knowing to be carried away with the religious tales of a future ſtate, are well enough pleaſed, that the vulgar ſhould think there is ſome truth in them. Nor do they think it much amiſs, if thei • wives and daughters have a ſmal • ſpice of faith about them. A female free thinker is an odious character even among infi • els. What can be the reaſon of this? Is it not plain, that norwithſtanding all their loud talk againſt religion, they conſider it as one of the ſtrongeſt ſences of virtue? If it be ſo neceſſary in females, why not in the other ſex? Have men no need of this additional motive to a life of virtue and probity? Or is it no detriment to ſociety, for them to be falſe and faithleſs, and indulge themſelves in the gratification of their irregular appetites? Is there a hell for women, but none for m • n? If theſe gentlemen look upon the doctrine of a future ſtate, though falſe, to be uſeful in ſociety, where is their civil prudence, when they are endeavouring to turn it into ridicule, and eraſe it from the minds of men? Suppoſe them to be a ſet of refined ſpirits, who have a juſt and noble taſte, and are capable of being enamoured with virtue for her own ſake; and of ſhunning vice merely on account of its innate deformity, what is to be done with the bulk of mankind, who have no ſuch taſte? Who purſue virtue chiefly for her dower, and ſhun vice on account of that future puniſhment which attends it? What a deluge of luſt and fraud, and violence, would quickly overſpread our country, were they all brought to be thorough-paced infidels! In a word, whatever regard theſe men may profeſs to virtue, I can ſcarcely think them in earneſt, when they ridicule religion in order to promote it.—This by the way.

To conclude, if the Elyſium and Tartarus of the Heathens, were of that importance to ſociety, which the ancient lawgivers and politicians ſuppoſed, much more muſt the chriſtian doctrines of heaven and hell, which are founded in truth, and free from all fiction and fable.

II. Of the worſhip which chriſtianity enjoins.

That worſhip which the chriſtian religion requires, is pure, ſimple, ſpiritual, and perfectly conformable to the nature of its object. God is a ſpirit, and therefore we are commanded to "worſhip him in ſpirit and in truth." A ſupreme and unfeigned love, a ſincere and ardent gratitude, a ſolemn awe and reverence, an humble confidence and entire reſignation to his will, are the leading diſpoſitions he requires in his worſhippers. The ſupreme excellence of his nature, the • ranſcendent glory of his attributes, which far ſurpaſs the moſt exalted conceptions of men and angels, render him the proper object of our ſupreme love. His overflowing bounty, the riches of his grace, the number and greatneſs of his mercies, demand our higheſt and warmeſt gratitude. His awful glory and tremendous majeſty call for holy fear and dread. His power, wiſdom, truth and juſtice, ſhould inſpire us with confidence, and lead us to acquieſce with abſolute ſubmiſſion • n all his righteous diſpenſations. In the proper exerciſe of theſe diſpoſitions, conſiſts that internal worſhip which our religion enjoins. The external part conſiſts in the outward expreſſions of theſe inward diſpoſitions by ſuch words, actions and at • itudes as are moſt proper to convey the ſentiments of the heart. And our religion teaches us that theſe outward expreſſions are no further acceptable to the deity than as they are connected with, and flow from thoſe internal diſpoſitions which he requires. To "draw near to God with our lips, when our hearts are far from him," is hypocritical and odious in his ſight. To exhibit outward expreſſions of love, reverence, gratitude, &c. where there is nothing of theſe diſpoſitions at heart, is only a ſolemn farce, a piece of profane mockery; and ſo far from pleaſing God, it is an abomination to him. He requires "truth in the inward parts." A pure, ſincere, humble, and upright heart is the object of his higheſt approbation. If this be wanting, nothing elſe can be acceptable. All the eſſential parts of chriſtian worſhip are appointed by God himſelf, who beſt knows what is agreeable to his own nature, and ſuited to our condition. They all tend to ſuggeſt ſpiritual ideas, to detach the mind from objects of ſenſe, and fix it on the important realities of an inviſible world. Among ſome denominations of chriſtians indeed, much external ſhow, many pompous rites and ceremonies, much ſolemn farce and mummery, have been introduced into their religious worſhip. But theſe ought to be conſidered as mere human inventions, contrary to the primitive ſimplicity, and oppoſite to the genuine ſpirit and deſign of chriſtian worſhip, as inſtituted by its author. Theſe additaments, which like ſo many excreſcences, mar the comelineſs and deſtroy the ſimplicity of our religious worſhip, are to be placed to the account of ſuperſtition, which is ever apt to mingle itſelf with religion.

The religious worſhip of a people, eſpecially the public part of it, will always have a conſiderable influence on their morals; and this influence will be good or bad according to the nature of their worſhip. If that be pu • e, rational and agreeable to the nature of a holy being, it will lead to purity of morals, and therefore promote the happineſs of civil ſociety. If the contrary, the effect will be directly oppoſite. In the public worſhip which genuine chriſtianity preſcribes, every part is calculated to inſpire us with an averſion from vice, and a love of piety and virtue Our prayers, when aſſembled for public worſhip, are a ſolemn addreſs to that pure and immaculate being, who is the author of life and the fountain of all our bleſſings. In theſe we recognize his glorious perfections, expreſs our dependence on him, and return the tribute of our gratitude for his great and manifold mercies. Here we confeſs the evil of ſin, plead for the pardon of it through the merits of a redeemer, and acknowledge the obligations we are under to renounce it, and live ſober, righteous, godly lives. It is not neceſſary to take up the readers time in ſhowing how well ſuited all theſe things are to impreſs the heart with pious ſentiments, and fortify the mind wi • h freſh reſolutions againſt whatever is oppoſed to the nature of that holy being to whom our prayers are addreſſed. If this part of chriſtian worſhip be performed in a proper manner, it cannot fail to have an influence on our moral temper and practice, as favourable to ſociety as it is extenſive. To return to thoſe vicious practices, the criminal and unreaſonable nature of which we have been juſt confeſſing, and from which we have been juſt praying to be delivered, has ſomething in it very abſurd and ſhocking to an ingenuous mind.

That part of our worſhip which is more particularly deſi • ned to celebrate the praiſes of our creator, has the ſame moral tendency. In this the charms of muſic and poetry are added to heighten our devotion, to awaken the ſoul, enflame the heart, and raiſe our affections to that pitch of ardour and elevation which is juſtly due to the object of our adoration. Our ſongs of praiſe are adapted to heighten our conceptions, and give us the moſt exalted thoughts of God. The more our views of the divine perfections are enlarged, the more intenſely will the pure flame of divine love burn in our hearts: and if it be true, that love aſſimilates to the object beloved, the more we love the more we will reſemble the deity. The more we will reſemble him in his moral attributes, the more we muſt abhor ſin, that abominable thing which he hates. The more deeply his image is ingraved on our hearts, the more we will be diſpoſed to imitate his infinite benevolence; and of conſequence to promote the happineſs of our fellow-citizens, by the ſteady practice of every ſocial duty.

As to thoſe grave religious diſcourſes which are delivered in our chriſtian aſſemblies, they are ſo evidently calculated to promote virtue and combat vice, that little need be ſaid concerning them. While the miniſters of our religion purſue the original deſign of their inſtitution, and live and preach as chriſtianity requires, their public inſtructions and ſolemn admonitions will always tend to facilitate the deſigns of a wiſe and ſalutary policy. If they follow the example, and pay a due regard to the precepts of their heavenly maſter, their diſcourſes muſt neceſſarily be adapted to make men wiſer and better. In theſe the pure and heavenly doctrines of our religion are explained and preſſ • d, her precepts inculcated, and her laws and ſanctions vindicated. Here the eternal world is laid open, and all the intereſting and important realities of a future ſtate unfolded. Heaven and he • l, eternal happineſs and eternal miſery, with the grandour and ſolemnity of thoſe ſcenes which bring on the general conſummation, are held up to view. The lovely and alluring form of virtue and religion, the guilt and deformity of vice, the unſpeakable eternal felicity which attends the o • e, and the everlaſting miſery which is the conſequence of the other, are ſet before our eyes. Such pictures as theſe, executed by the bold and correct hand of a maſter, and exhibited in thoſe rich and ſtrong colourings which the glowing pencil of inſpiration ſupplies, muſt have a great influence on the morals of a people. In the compaſs of nature, there are no other topics better adapted to rouſe and fix the attention of men, to ſeize the imagination, alarm the conſcience, excite their hopes and fears, and conſequently to reclaim them from vice and impiety to the love and practice of univerſal righteouſneſs.

To what hath been ſaid concerning our religious worſhip, it may be proper to add, that even the poſit • ve inſtitutions of chriſtianity, ſo much derided by infidels, are deſigned and excellently well ſui • ed to promote purity of heart and life. The rite of baptiſm points out the neceſſity of inward moral purity, and lays us under an expreſs and ſolemn obligation to renounce the deeds of darkneſs, and conſecrate ourſelves to the ſervice of God, by a life of piety and virtue. The Euchariſt is a commemoration of the ſtupendous and unparalleled love of God, in giving his ſon to redeem our ſinful race, to reſtore us from the ruins of our fall, and open the gates of the heavenly paradiſe. In this memorial of the ſufferings and death of our compaſſionate Redeemer, we have the moſt ſtriking diſplay of the immaculate holineſs of God, and of his infinite oppoſition to ſin, which required ſo coſtly a ſacrifice. Here too, we oblige ourſelves in the moſt ſolemn and explicit manner, to depart from all iniquity, and lead a holy life, by practiſing piety towards God, as well as juſtice and charity towards our fellow-men. Pliny tells us, that the primitive chriſtians uſed to meet together, and bind themſelves by a ſolemn oath (ſacramento) "that they would not ſteal, nor rob, nor be guilty of a breach of faith." This might have taught him, that chriſtianity was at leaſt favorable to morals, and ought to have ſheathed the perſecuting ſword of civil government. What can be more proper than this holy inſtitution, to keep alive a ſenſe of religion in the hearts of men; to root out from their minds all hatred and malice, and unite them in the bonds of love and friendſhip?

If an affecting view of the moſt aſtoniſhing and unmerited love, exhibited to our ſenſes by the moſt apt and ſignificant ſymbols, can excite our love; if the richeſt bleſſings which heaven could beſtow, can awaken our gratitude; ſurely this holy feaſt upon the ſacrifice of our Redeemer, muſt have a powerful influence upon our lives. If the moſt ſolemn vows and oaths of fidelity to the great captain of our ſalvation, have any force to bind chriſtians, the ſacred engagements we come under by taking this ſacrament, muſt be a ſtrong ſecurity againſt the allurements of vice, and a continual excitement to perſevere in the paths of virtue. Thus every part of chriſtian worſhip, as preſcribed by its divine author, leads to, and enforces purity of manners, and ſerves to reſtrain men from thoſe vicious courſes, which, in the natural ſtream of things, tend to the deſtruction of civil government. Had we time to enter into a minute compariſon of the chriſtian with other religions, its ſuperior excellence in this reſpect would appear in the ſtrongeſt light. It cannot be denied, that the worſhip of thoſe heathen nations who have been moſt renowned for their civil policy, not only in many inſtances encouraged, but even conſiſted in the groſſeſt immoralities. This was the caſe among the Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans. To ſay nothing of the human ſacrifices which they offered up to appeale their angry deities, what were their myſteries, but myſteries of iniquity? In the celebration of theſe, the fouleſt crimes were perpetrated, and the moſt flagitious luſts indulged, under the covert of darkneſs. Bacchus, Venus and Cupid, were worſhiped with the moſt impure and abominable rights. Female proſtitution, luſt, drunkenneſs, and the wildeſt riot, were not only concomitants, but eſſential conſtituents of their worſhip. The civil magiſtrates of Rome were fully ſenſible of the neceſſary tendency of theſe enormities to corrupt the morals of the people, and of the political evils which flowed from theſe polluted ſources. Accordingly, they endeavoured to obviate them, by enacting ſevere laws for the regulation of the myſteries; but finding theſe inſufficient, the Orgia were finally aboliſhed throughout Italy by a decree of the ſenate, A. U. 568. The Eleuſinian myſteries, which were reckoned more pure, continued till the reign of the emperor Theodoſius, and then underwent the fate of all human inſtitutions.I am not ignorant, that ſome chriſtian writers have ſuppoſed the heathen myſteries, particularly the Eleuſinian, to have been originally pure, and deſigned by the civil magiſtrate to correct the pernicious influence of the commonly received mythology on the morals of the people. The fathers condemn them as impure, and immoral in their original inſtitution; and inſiſt much on the ſhocking enormities practiſed in them under the veil of night. Le Clerk is, I believe, the only author, who contrary to all evidence from antiquity, and for no other reaſon, that I can ſee, but to gratify his ſpleen againſt the fathers, contends that they never were corrupted at all Whatever was the original ſtate of the myſteries, it is enough for me, that in time they became ſuch as they are repreſented above. This is abundantly evident from the heathen writers themſelves, who complain of their corruption; and is acknowledged by thoſe chriſtians▪ who contrary to the fathers, have a favorable opinion of them in their firſt inſtitution. Le Clerk, if indeed he deſerve, the name of a chriſtian, muſt ſtill be excepted.

I do not wiſh to enlarge, by enquiring into the nature and tendency of the various kinds of religious worſhip which are, or have been, uſed in the world; and therefore ſhall conclude by obſerving, that they all fall far ſhort of the chriſtian, in their tendency to promote purity of morals, and conſequently cannot be of equal utility to civil government.

III Of • he precep • s which chriſtianity in • ulcates.

Whatever objections have been made by deiſts againſt the doctrines and worſhip of chriſtianity, the moſt ſenſible and ingenious of them, have very little to urge againſt its moral precepts. On a careful and candid examination, they are found ſo conformable to the great principles of na • ural religion, that they who have not renounced all religion, both natural and revealed, are conſtrained to acknowledge their excellence. Reaſon and experience both ſerve to convince us, that the ſtrict obſervance of them, tends to exalt our natures and promote our happineſs in the preſent life. All who are not blind to the beauty and utility of virtue, and its tendency to promote the happineſs of ſociety, muſt acknowledge the importance of chriſtian morality. If we a little conſider the ſeveral duties which chriſtianity enjoins upon us as ſocial creatures, we w • ll immediately ſee how exactly its precepts fall in w • th • he ends of government, and how well they are ſuited to co • operate with, and facilitate the execution of, wiſe and wholeſome laws. "The morality of the Goſpel," ſaid the dying Monteſqueiu, "is a moſt excellent thing, and the moſt valuable preſent that could poſſibly have been received by man from his creator"

If it ſhould be ſaid, that thoſe duties which we owe to each other in the ſocial ſtate are dictated by reaſon, and ſo a part of natural religion; and that chriſtianity is therefore of little conſequence in this reſpect; I will not now diſpute the fact, but muſt take the liberty to deny the conſequence. Though it ſhould be granted, that chriſtianity neither enjoins nor forbids any thing in moral practice, which natural religion does not enjoin or forbid, it will not hence follow that chriſtianity is uſeleſs. Thoſe moral duties which our religion inculcates, are indeed agreeable to reaſon, and appear to have a fitneſs and propriety in them, and on this account may be reckoned a part of natural religion. But who will dare to affirm that the whole ſyſtem of what we call NATURAL RELIGION, could be reaſoned out by the moſt enlightened of mortals, without, any aſſiſtance from divine revelation? And even ſuppoſing this were poſſible, there is no ground to believe, that men in general could make the diſcovery in this way; or if they could, there is not the leaſt probability that they would, conſidering their negligence and inattention to ſuch things. Many amongſt us are ignorant of ſome very important duties of natural religion, though revealed to them, and repeatedly inculcated upon them in their bibles. What muſt we then ſuppoſe would be the caſe, if they were left to inveſtigate theſe duties by an intricate chain of reaſoning? It ought alſo to be conſidered, that Chriſtianity is a very important confirmation of natural religion. Here the concluſions of reaſon are corroborated, and rendered more certain by the additional evidence of divine teſtimony. Thoſe miracles and prophecies which were deſigned as a proof of the Chriſtian diſpenſation, are alſo a proof of the truth of natural religion. Thus the dictates of natural light are ratified, if I may ſo expreſs it, by the ſtamp of divine authority, and their truth proclaimed by a voice from heaven. Hence we ſee that the chriſtian ſyſtem of morals is to be conſidered, not barely as the deductions of reaſon; but the deductions of reaſon confirmed by an expreſs revelation from God himſelf, and inculcated by his authoritative command; and therefore ought to have greater weight with us than the meer concluſions of fallible reaſon. Suppoſe a man able to demonſtrate, which I ſuppoſe may be done, though perhaps by few, that it is his duty to love his enemies, would he not reckon it a great confirmation of his concluſion, if at the end of his demonſtration, he ſhould diſcover, that this duty was expreſsly revealed and peremptorily commanded by God himſelf? Would not his reaſonings be much more ſatisfactory to himſelf, and more likely to influence his practice? It hath been often urged, and therefore we ſhall not here inſiſt upon it, that the moſt enlightened of the heathens were much in the dark with reſpect to many of thoſe moral duties; the reaſonableneſs and propriety of which are evident to thoſe inſtructed by Chriſtianity. And it is worthy of remark, that theſe very heathens were, perhaps, more indebted to divine revelation than ſome of its enemies are willing to admit. Were this a proper place to enter into ſuch a ſubject, it might be made more than probable, that had they been left to meer reaſon and the light of nature, their morals would have been much more deficient than they are. But our profeſſed deſign will not allow us to enlarge upon theſe things. The few hints thrown out may ſuffice to ſhow, that it does not in the leaſt derogate from the importance of Chriſtianity in the view we are now conſidering it, that its moral precepts coincide with the great Pandect of Nature. On the contrary, when theſe precepts thus conformable to the light of nature, a • e confirmed by the authority of heaven, urged upon us by our rightful ſovereign, and enforced by the moſt expreſs and awful ſanctions, it is reaſonable to conclude, that they will have a much greater influence on our practice, than if they were the ſole reſult of reaſon, which all know is liable to err.

It may perhaps be expected, that in treating this part of my ſubject, I ſhould draw a compariſon between Chriſtian and heathen morality; but as this hath been often done, and the ſuperior excellence of Chriſtian morals fully ſhown, I ſhall content myſelf with treating ſome of thoſe moral precepts of Chriſtianity, whi • h appear to have the moſt direct influence on ſociety. Some occaſional remarks concerning the errors and deficiencies of the heathen moraliſts will naturally fall in as we paſs along.

1. That benevolent diſpoſition which Chriſtianity requires, has a direct tendency to promote the peace and happineſs of men in a ſtate of ſociety.

Chriſtianity is beyond compariſon the pureſt and moſt extenſive ſyſtem of benevolence which hath ever been publiſhed to the world. It every where breathes the ſpirit of love, and inculcates the laws of kindneſs and humanity. That good will towards men which it requires is univerſal, and embraces the whole human race. It is not confined to the narrow circle of friends and relations, but extends even to enemies. The precept of our Savior which requires us to love, do good to, and pray for our enemies, is peculiar to Chriſtianity; at leaſt we do not find it ſo expreſsly taught, and particularly enforced, by any other religion. The Jews entertained an implacable hatred againſt all thoſe who were not of their own nation and religion. Their male-volence to all but their own brethren, was ſo remarkable, that the heathens have taken notice of it. "Their fidelity," ſays Tacitu • , "is inviolable, and their pity ready towards each other; but to all others they bear a mortal hatred." The apoſtle Paul, a more impartial judge, gives them the ſame character. "They pleaſe not God, and are contrary to all men." They even thought themſelves at liberty to indulge their malice againſt private enemies of their own nation. Though the precepts of their law, rightly underſtood, were far from allowing ſuch a malevolent diſpoſition, it is certain that by their corrupt interpretations, they drew this inference from them. And it muſt be confeſſed, that the god-like duty of loving our enemies, was not ſo clearly revealed, and ſo expreſsly inculcated, under the Jewiſh, as under the Chriſtian diſpenſation. Here we have it enforced by the nobleſt of all conſiderations, namely, the reſemblance it gives us to the deity, who indiſcriminately ſhowers down the common bleſſings of his providence, both on his friends and enemies. The bloody and vindictive ſpirit of the Mahometan religion is well known. Grotius has emphatically characterized it in a few words. "Mahometis religio in armis nata, nihil ſpirat niſi arma, armis propagatur." "The religion of Mahomet originated in arms, breathes nothing but arms, is propagated by arms." The civil inſtitutions of the Greeks, particularly thoſe of Sparta, were principally directed to war. Conqueſt, rapine, blood-ſhed, triumph, were their chief aim. To rob and plunder their neighbors was ſo far from being reckoned infamous among them, that they gloried in it. And it is worthy of obſervation, that theſe inſtitutions were admired by their philoſophers, and approved by their oracles. Ariſtotle is not aſhamed to affirm, "That war with barbarians is natural." The Romans were little better than the robbers and butchers of the world. Their fame, wealth, power, and grandeur, aroſe principally from the conqueſt and ſpoils of thoſe whom they made or found their enemies. They were ſo infamous for their unjuſt wars and public robberies, that Cicero himſelf ſcruples not to declare, "that if every one had his own, they muſt return to their old cottages." In a word, the many inſtances of flagrant injuſtice and cruelty publicly approved both by the Greeks and Romans, ſhow, that they had ſcare any idea of that univerſal benevolence, that humane, gentle and peaceable diſpoſition, which the precepts of our religion ſo ſtrongly recommend and enforceIt muſt be confeſſed, that Chriſtian nations have, in many inſtances, ſhown too little regard to the ſpirit of their religion, in the wars they have commenced and carried on. They have often been cruel and unjuſt, contrary to that humane and peaceable diſpoſition enjoined by the goſpel. It cannot, however, be denied, that Chriſtianity hath had a conſiderable influence on men, and laid them under great reſtraints in this reſpect. The hiſtory of Europe evidently ſhows how much it tends to check the ferocity and ſoften the rugged manners of thoſe nations who embrace it. If I miſtake not, it produced a remarkable change on the Roman empire. We do not find the ſame cruel and ſanguinary diſpoſition prevailing after it became Chriſtian. War is diveſted of half its horrors by the mild and gentle ſpirit of Chriſtianity.. War was their trade, and their religion reſtrained them from nothing which they imagined might extend their empire and increaſe their power. Some of the heathen moraliſts have told us that faith is to be kept with an •• emy; and that injuries ſhould be forgiven, on the repentance and acknowledgement of the offender; but I do not recollect that one of them before the Chriſtian aera, requires men to love thoſe who are in a ſtate of actual enmity with them. To do good to ſuch, to pray for them, and promote their happineſs, is a pitch of philanthropy, to which Chriſtianity alone teaches us to aſpire. How much ſuch a diſpoſition tends to the peace and happineſs of men in the ſocial ſtate, is obvious at firſt view. Love is the great cement of ſociety, and a principal bond of union among its members. As malice, hatred, envy, and all the inimical paſſions, naturally tend to diſunite men, and deſtroy that concord, which is the greateſt ſtrength and ſecurity of government; ſo mutual love ſweetly and powerfully attracts and binds them to each other. He who loves his neighbor as himſelf, and ſincerely deſires his happineſs, needs no other motive to excite him to the moſt exact and careful performance of all the ſocial duties. A heart overflowing with benevolence to our fellow-men will be a more powerful reſtraint from injury, and a ſtronger excitement to beneficence, than all the terror of civil laws. This noble and generous principle will operate uniformly and efficaciouſly; and by an internal, ſecret impulſe, direct and ſpur • us on to a careful obſervance of all the laws of kindneſs and humanity. Prompted by an ardent wiſh to promote the happineſs of all around us, we will perform every kind office with a pleaſure and facility unknown to a narrow and ſelfiſh mind. We will often forget or over-look our own intereſt to oblige a friend, to vindicate the innocent, relieve the diſtreſſed and ſuccour the miſerable. He who is conformed to the temper, governed by the precepts, and influenced by the example of the benevolent Jeſus, will, like the good Samaritan, pour balm even into the wounds of an enemy; will feed him when hungry, cloath him when naked, return him good for evil, and bleſſing for curſing. In a word, that unbounded benevolence which Chriſtianity requires, neceſſarily leads to the performance of all the duties of charity, hoſpitality, gratitude, mercy and compaſſion, which we have ſhown human laws cannot enforce, and which are nevertheleſs neceſſary to the peace and happineſs of civil government.

Let it be further obſerved here, that Chriſtianity not only enjoins meekneſs and benevolence, but expreſsly condemns a contrary diſpoſition. A malicious and vindictive temper is directly oppoſite to the precepts of the goſpel. Hear the apoſtle Paul on this ſubject, "Dearly beloved, avenge not yourſelves, but rather give place unto wrath; for it is written, vengeance is mine; I will repay, ſaith the Lord. Therefore, if thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirſt, give him drink; for, in ſo doing, thou ſhalt heap coals of fire upon his head." This is perfectly conſiſtent with the precepts and example of his meek and heavenly maſter, who teaches us to expect forgiveneſs only, on condition that we forgive others. "But if you do not forgive neither will your father, who is in heaven, forgive your treſpaſſes." The ſame precept and example is illuſtrated and enforced, with incomparable ſtrength and beauty, in the parable of the debtors and creditors, Mat. 18. from the 23d verſe to the cloſe.

The Jewiſh doctors, by ſtretching the law of retaliation for perſonal injuries beyond its original deſign, gave too much countenance to private revenge. They enjoined it upon men as their duty to inſiſt upon retaliation; and even went ſo far as to pronounce it lawful, in many caſes, for the injured perſon to avenge himſelf, provided his revenge did not exceed the due meaſure. This was an evident abuſe of the law, which only empowered the judges to give an eye for an eye, or a tooth for a tooth, if the injured party demanded it. Our ſavior teaches a more excellent morality, and a more heroic pitch of meekneſs and patience. "Ye have heard that it hath been ſaid, an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth; but I ſay unto you, that you reſiſt not evil; but whoſoever ſhall ſmite thee on the right cheek, turn to him the other alſo; and if any man will ſue thee at the law and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak alſo." Here our Saviour not only condemns the corrupt gloſſes of the Jewiſh Doctors; but, as is plain from the general ſtrain of his language, forbids Chriſtians ſome things which were permitted to the Jews under a more imperfect diſpenſation.Vide Tertull. Chriſo • . and Whitby in Loc. He does not allow his followers to inſiſt upon retaliation for leſſer injuries, and condemns that litigious temper which puſhes on men to ſeek redreſs by law for every trifling offence; teaching us rather to relinquiſh part of our right, and bear with • ſmall degree of injury, than violently to proſecute the offender.

It is not eaſy to determine what was the prevailing opinion of the heathen philoſophers and moraliſts on this ſubject. Some of them approve of revenge, others condemn itSocrates, Plato, Maximus, Tyrius, Seneca, and ſome others of leſs note, condemn revenge; particularly the laſt, who ſeems to have had the fulleſt and cleareſt notions on this ſubject, for which he was perhaps indebted to Chriſtianity, Ariſtotle is plainly on the other ſide, and Tully, as is uſual with him, wavers. In his offices and his oration for Ligarius, he ſpeaks much in favor of clemency and a mild forgiving ſpirit; but, in one of his epiſtles to Atticus, he thus lays open his heart: "Odi hominem et odero: utinam ulciſei poſſem.". In this, as well as in moſt other points of morality, they were much divided, and advanced ſentiments repugnant to each other. How well ſoever ſome of them may have ſpoken on this ſubject, it is plain that our duty in this reſpect is pointed out by Chriſt and his apoſtles with much greater clearneſs and preciſion, and enforced with an energy and authority, much better adapted to influence the minds of men, than in any of their writings. How favorable this influence is to civil ſociety, and how commodiouſly it falls in with the intention of human laws, will appear from the following conſiderations.

Private revenge is utterly repugnant to the principles, directly oppoſite to the nature and end of civil ſociety, and therefore condemned by the laws of all wiſely conſtituted and well regulated governments

The judgement of zeal among the Jews and the law reſpecting the avenger of blood, may perhaps be reckoned exceptions. As to the firſt, I am clear, it was not founded on ſcripture, in that latitude the Jews ſuppoſed. This I think muſt be evident to any one who reads the account given of it by Philo and Joſephus. To what execrable purpoſes it was applied, appears plain from the many attempts made on the life of our Savior, the ſtoning of Stephen, and the diabolical conſpiracy againſt the apoſtle Paul; for in theſe and many other inſtances which might be mentioned, it appears to me moſt probable, that they proceeded under this pretence. The law concerning apoſtates to idolatry, which the Jews tell us was firſt executed by Phineas, gave riſe to the judgment of zeal. But it cannot be made appear from that law, as it lies in ſcripture, that even idolaters were to be put to death without a previous trial: an enquiry was to be inſtituted, and witneſſes ſummoned. The caſe of Phineas was extraordinary; and whatever opinion we form of it, could not be deſigned by God to authorize every Jew to put to death, without delay, or any form of legal proceſs, thoſe who did or ſaid any thing diſhonorable to his religion. As to the Jewiſh law which permitted a relation to take vengeance on the man-ſlaver, it was greatly moderated, and the ſanguinary effects of it guarded againſt by the aſylums appointed for ſuch as had been guilty of accidental homicide; for the avenger of blood was not at liberty to attack the homicide in his ſanctuary. The deſign of it was not to encourage men in a vindictive temper; but to inſpire them with a horror of bloodſhed; for by the riſk which they ran from the relations of the ſlain, and the hardſhip of confinemen • in the city of refuge, even when innocent, they were taught to be cautious in avoiding every thing that might endanger the li • e of a fellow citizen. However, if any one think this an exception to the above general aſſertion, I will not obſtinately contend the matter here, for I am ready to allow there are ſome exceptions. The laws of Sparta gave the Ephori the right of putting perſons to death without a trial. By a law of Solon, a huſband who caught his wife in adultery, was at liberty to ſlay the adulterer on the ſpot. In ſome governments maſters and pa •• nts have been allowed the power of life and death over their ſlaves and children. But whether theſe laws were wiſe and ſalutary in any government, is a matter I very much doubt. They are, I think, reprobated by all Chriſtian ſtates.

To prevent objections, I would further obſerve on this ſubject, that there are ſome extraordinary caſes in which the laws of England admit an extra-judicial remedy, and allow a redreſs of injury by the mere act of the party injured. Among theſe judge Blackſtone reckons ſelf-defence, recaption, abatement of nuiſances, diſtreſs for rent and cattle damage-feaſant, with ſome others. The firſt of theſe is for the prevention rather than redreſs of wrong; for if the defender go further than is neceſſary for defence and prevention, the law conſiders him as an aggreſſor. The laſt is not ſo properly redreſs as the means of obtaining redreſs in a legal way; unleſs it be where the diſtreſs is retained for compelling ſatisfaction. Recaption indeed is, in a proper ſenſe, redreſs; and removal of nuiſances ſeems deſigned both for redreſs and prevention. Yet, even in theſe, the perſons aggrieved act under the reſtraint and direction of law. Recaption muſt be without force or terror; nuiſances muſt be removed peaceably and without any riot. But notwithſtanding theſe and ſome other inſtances, in which, on account of ſome peculiar circumſtances, a well regulated ſociety may permit a kind of extrajudicial redreſs, I have not ſcrupled to affirm in general, that in a ſtate of civil ſociety, men are not at liberty to miniſter redreſs to themſelves; and I have inſiſted the more largely on this, becauſe ſince the cloſe of the war, I find many of my countrymen too much diſpoſed to take the puniſhment of offenders into their own hands—a mode of proceeding which directly tends to diſſolve our government, and reduce us to a ſtate of nature.