Rewards and punishments, awarded by omnipotent power, afford a palpable and pressing motive, which can never be neglected without renouncing the character of a rational creature: but tastes and relishes are not to be proscribed. A motive in which the reason of man shall acquiesce, enforcing the practice of virtue at all times and seasons, enters into the very essence of moral obligation. Modern infidelity supplies no such motives: it is therefore essentially and infallibly a system of enervation, turpitude, and vice. The system of infidelity is not only incapable immense advantage, what is to restrain an of arming virtue for great and trying occasions, Atheist from its commission? To say that rebut leaves it unsupported on the most ordinary morse will deter him is absurd; for remorse, as Occurrences. In vain will its advocates appeal to distinguished from pity, is the sole offspring of a moral sense, to benevolence and sympathy. religious belief, the extinction of which is the In vain will they expatiate on the tranquillity great purpose of the infidel philosophy. The and pleasure attendant on a virtuous course; for dread of punishment, or infamy, from his fellowit is undeniable that these impulses may be over- creatures, will be an equally ineffectual barrier, come; and though you may remind the offender because crimes are only committed under such that in disregarding them he has violated his circumstances as suggest the hope of concealnature and that a conduct consistent with them ment; not to say that crimes themselves will is productive of much internal satisfaction; yet, soon lose their infamy and their horror, under if he reply that his taste is of a different sort, that the influence of that system which destroys the there are other gratifications which he values sanctity of virtue, by converting it into a low more, and that every man must choose his own calculation of worldly interest. Here the sense pleasures, the argument is at an end. of an ever-present Ruler, and of an avenging Judge, is of the most awful and indispensable necessity; as it is that alone which impresses on all crimes the character of folly, shows that duty and interest in every instance coincide, and that the most prosperous career of vice, the most brilliant successes of criminality, are but an accumulation of wrath against the day of wrath. As the frequent perpetration of great crimes is an inevitable consequence of the diffusion of sceptical principles, so, to understand this consequence in its full extent, we must look beyond their immediate effects, and consider the disruption of social ties, the destruction of confidence, the terror, suspicion, and hatred, which must prevail in that state of society in which barbarous deeds are familiar. The tranquillity which pervades a well-ordered community, and the mutual good offices which bind its members together, is founded on an implied confidence in the indisposition to annoy; in the justice, humanity, and moderation of those among whom we dwell. So that the worst consequence of crimes is, that they impair the stock of public charity and general tenderness. The dread and hatred of our species would infallibly be grafted en a conviction that we were exposed every moment to the surges of an unbridled ferocity, and that nothing but the power of the magistrate stood between us and the daggers of assassins. In such a state, laws deriving no support from public manners are unequal to the task of curbing the fury of the passions, which, from being concentrated into selfishness, fear, and revenge, acquire new force. Terror and suspicion beget cruelty, and inflict injuries by way of prevention. This chasm in the construction of morals can only be supplied by the firm belief of a rewarding and avenging Deity, who binds duty and happiness, though they may seem distant, in an indissoluble chain, without which, whatever usurps the name of virtue, is not a principle, but a feeling; not a determinate rule, but a fluctuating expedient, varying with the tastes of individuals, and changing with the scenes of life. Nor is this the only way in which infidelity subverts the foundation of morals. All reasoning on morals pre-supposes a distinction between inclinations and duties, affections and rules. The former prompt, the latter prescribe. The former supply motives to action; the latter regulate and control it. Hence it is evident, if virtue have any just claim to authority, it 'must be under the latter of these notions, that is, under the character of a law. It is under this notion, in fact, that its dominion has ever been acknowledged to be paramount and supreme. But, without the intervention of a superior will, it is impossible there should be any moral laws, except in the lax metaphorical sense in which we speak of the laws of matter and motion. Men being essentially equal, morality is, on these principles, only a stipulation, or silent compact, into which every individual is supposed to enter, as far as suits his convenience, and for the breach of which he is accountable to nothing but his own mind. His own mind is his law, his tribunal, and his judge! Two consequences, the most disastrous to society, will inevitably follow the general prevalence of this system; the frequent perpetration of great crimes, and the total absence of great virtues. 1. In those conjunctions which tempt avarice, or inflame ambition, when a crime flatters with the prospect of impunity, and the certainty of Pity is extinguished in the stronger impulse of self-preservation. The tender and generous affections are crushed; and nothing is seen but the retaliation of wrongs; the fierce and unmitigated struggle for superiority. This is but a faint sketch of the incalculable calamities and horrors we must expect, should we be so unfortunate as ever to witness the triumph of modern infidelity. 2. This system is a soil as barren of great and sublime virtues as it is prolific in crimes. By great and sublime virtues are meant those which are called into action on great and trying occasions, which demand the sacrifice of the dearest interests and prospects of human life, and sometimes of life itself. The virtues, in a word, which, by their rarity and splendour, draw admiration, and have rendered illustrious the characters of patriots, martyrs, and confessors. It requires Its influence on the formation of character rebut little reflection to perceive that whatever mains to be examined. The actions of men are veils a future world, and contracts the limits of oftener determined by their character than their existence within the present life, must tend, in interest: their conduct takes its colour more a proportionable degree, to diminish the gran- from their acquired taste, inclinations, and deur, and narrow the sphere of human agency. habits, than from a deliberate regard to their As well might you expect exalted sentiments greatest good. It is only on great occasions of justice from a professed gamester, as look for the mind awakes to take an extended survey noble principles in the man whose hopes and of her whole course, and that she suffers the fears are all suspended on the present moment, dictates of reason to impress a new bias upon and who stakes the whole happiness of his being her movements. The actions of each day are, on this vain and fleeting life. If he be ever for the most part, links which follow each other impelled to the performance of great achieve in the chain of custom. Hence the great effort ments in a good cause, it must be solely by the of practical wisdom is to imbue the mind with hope of fame, a motive which, besides that it right tastes, affections, and habits; the elements makes virtue the servant of opinion, usually of character, and masters of action. grows weaker at the approach of death, and which, however it may surmount the love of existence in the heat of battle, or in the moment of public observation, can seldom be expected to operate with much force on the retired duties of a private station. In affirming that infidelity is unfavorable to the higher class of virtues, we are supported as well by facts as by reasoning. We should be sorry to load our adversaries with unmerited reproach, but to what history, to what record will they appeal for the traits of moral greatness exhibited by their disciples? Where shall we look for the trophies of infidel magnanimity, or atheistical virtue? Not that we mean to accuse them of inactivity; they have recently filled the world with the fame of their exploits; exploits of a different kind, indeed, but of imperishable memory, and disastrous lustre. Though it is confessed great and splendid actions are not the ordinary employment of life, but must, from their nature, be reserved for high and eminent occasions, yet that system is essentially defective which leaves no room for their cultivation. They are important, both from their immediate advantage and their remoter influence. They often save, and always illustrate the age and nation in which they appear. They raise the standard of morals; they arrest the progress of degeneracy; they diffuse a lustre over the path of life; monuments of the greatness of the human soul, they present to the world the august image of virtue in her sublimest form, from which streams of light and glory issue to remote times and ages, while their commemoration, by the pen of historians and poets, awakens in distant bosoms the sparks of kindred excellence. Combine the frequent and familiar perpetration of atrocious deeds with the dearth of great and generous actions, and you have the exact picture of that condition of society which completes the degradation of the species-the frightful contrast of dwarfish virtues and gigantic vices, where every thing good is mean and little, and every thing evil is rank and luxuriant. A dead and sickening uniformity prevails, broken only at intervals by volcanic eruptions of anarchy and crime. II. Hitherto we have considered the influence of scepticism on the principles of virtue; and have endeavoured to show that it despoils it of its dignity, and lays its authority in the dust. I. The exclusion of a Supreme Being, and of a superintending Providence, tends directly to the destruction of moral taste. It robs the universe of all finished and consummate excellence, even in idea. The admiration of perfect wisdom and goodness, for which we are formed, and which kindles such unspeakable rapture in the soul, finding in the regions of scepticism nothing to which it corresponds, droops and languishes. In a world which presents a fair spectacle of order and beauty, of a vast family nourished and supported by an Almighty Parent, in a world which leads the devout mind, step by step, to the contemplation of the first fair and the first good, the sceptic is encompassed with nothing but obscurity, meanness, and disorder. When we reflect on the manner in which the idea of Deity is formed, we must be convinced that such an idea, intimately present to the mind, must have a most powerful effect in refining the moral taste. Composed of the richest elements, it embraces, in the character of a beneficent Parent and Almighty Ruler, whatever is venerable in wisdom, whatever is awful in authority, whatever is touching in goodness. Human excellence is blended with many imperfections, and seen under many limitations. It is beheld only in detached and separate portions, nor ever appears in any one character whole and entire. So that when, in imitation of the Stoics, we wish to form out of these fragments the notion of a perfectly wise and good man, we know it is a mere fiction of the mind, without any real being in whom it is embodied and realised. In the belief of a Deity, these conceptions are reduced to reality; the scattered rays of an ideal excellence are concentrated, and become the real attributes of that Being with whom we stand in the nearest relation, who sits supreme at the head of the universe, is armed with infinite power, and pervades all nature with his pre sence. The efficacy of these sentiments in producing and augmenting a virtuous taste, will indeed he proportioned to the vividness with which they are formed, and the frequency with which they recur; yet some benefit will not fail to result from them, even in their lowest degree. The idea of the Supreme Being has this peculiar property; that as it admits of no substitute, so, from the first moment it is impressed, it is capable of continual growth and enlargement. God himself is immutable; but our conception of his character is continually receiving fresh accessions, is continually growing more extended and refulgent, by having transferred upon it new perceptions of beauty and goodness; by attract ing to itself, as a centre, whatever bears the impress of dignity, order, or happiness. It borrows splendour from all that is fair; subordinates to itself all that is great; and sits enthroned on the riches of the universe. As the object of worship will always be, in a degree, the object of imitation, hence arises a fixed standard of moral excellence, by the contemplation of which, the tendencies to corruption are counteracted, the contagion of bad example is checked, and human nature arises above its natural level. When the knowledge of God was lost in the world, just ideas of virtue and moral obligation disappeared along with it. How is it to be otherwise accounted for, that in the polished nations, and in the enlightened times of Pagan antiquity, the most unnatural lusts and detestable impurities were not only tolerated in private life, but entered into religion, and formed a material part of public worship. While among the Jews, a people so much inferior in every other branch of knowledge, the same vices were regarded with horror. The reason is this: the true character of God was unknown to the former, which, by the light of divine revelation was imparted to the latter. The former cast their deities in the mould of their own imaginations, in consequence of which they partook of the vices and defects of their worshippers. To the latter, no scope was left for the wanderings of fancy, but a pure and perfect model was prescribed. False and corrupt, however, as was the religion of the Pagans (if it deserve the name), and defective, and often vicious, as was the character of their imaginary deities, it was still better for the world for the void of knowledge to be filled with these, than abandoned to a total scepticism; for if both systems are equally false, they are not equally pernicious. When the fictions of Heathenism consecrated the memory of its legislators and heroes, it invested them for the most part with those qualities which were in the greatest repute. They were supposed to possess in the highest degree the virtues in which it was most honorable to excel, and to be the witnesses, approvers, and patrons of those perfections in others, by which their own character was chiefly distinguished. Men saw, or rather fancied they saw, in these supposed deities, the qualities they most admired, dilated to a larger size, moving in a higher sphere, and associated with the power, dignity, and happiness of superior natures. With such ideal models before them, and conceiving themselves continually acting under the eye of such spectators and judges, they felt a real elevation, their eloquence became more impassioned, their patriotism inflamed, and their courage exalted. Revelation, by displaying the true character of God, affords a pure and perfect standard of virtue heathenism, one in many respects defective and vicious; the fashionable scepticism of the present day, which excludes the belief of all superior powers, affords no standard at all. Human nature knows nothing better or higher than itself. All above and around it being shrouded in darkness, and the prospect confined to the tame realities of life; virtue has no room upwards to expand, nor are any excursions permitted into that unseen world, the true element of the great and good, by which it is fortified with motives equally calculated to satisfy the reason, to delight the fancy, and to impress the heart. 2. Modern infidelity not only tends to corrupt the moral taste; it also promotes the growth of those vices which are the most hostile to social happiness. Of all the vices incident to human nature, the most destructive to society are vanity, ferocity, and unbridled sensuality; and these are precisely the vices which infidelity is calculated to cherish. That the love, fear, and habitual contemplation of a Being infinitely exalted, or in other words, devotion, is adapted to promote a sober and moderate estimate of our own excellencies, is incontestible; nor is it less evident that the exclusion of such sentiments must be favorable to pride. The criminality of pride will, perhaps, be less readily admitted; for, though there is no vice so opposite to the spirit of Christianity, yet there is none which, even in the Christian world, has, under various pretences, been treated with so much indulgence. There is, it will be confessed, a delicate sensibility to character, a sober desire of reputation, a wish to possess the esteem of the wise and good, felt by the purest minds, and which is the farthest remove from arrogance and vanity. The humility of a noble mind scarcely dares to approve of itself until it has secured the approbation of others. Very different is that restless desire of distinction, that passion for theatrical display, which inflames the heart, and occupies the whole attention of vain men. This, of all the passions, is the most unsocial; avarice itself is not excepted. The reason is plain. Property is a kind of good which may be more easily attained, and is capable of more minute subdivisions than fame. In the pursuit of wealth, men are led by an attention to their own interest to promote the welfare of each other; their advantages are reciprocal; the benefits which each is anxious to acquire for himself, he reaps in the greatest abundance from the union and conjunction in society. The pursuits of vanity are quite contrary. The portion of time and attention mankind are willing to spare from their avocations and pleasures, to devote to the admiration of each other is so small, that every successful adventurer is felt to have impaired the common stock. The success of one is the disappointment of multitudes. For though there be many rich, many virtuous, many wise men, fame must necessarily be the portion of but few. Hence every vain man, every man in whom vanity is the ruling passion, regarding his rival as his enemy, is strongly tempted to rejoice in his miscarriage, and repine at his success. Besides, as the passions are seldom seen in a simple, unmixed state, so vanity, when it succeeds, degenerates into arrogance; when it is disappointed (and it is often disappointed) it is exasperated into malignity, and corrupted into envy. In this stage the vain man commences a determined misanthropist. He detests that excellence he cannot reach. He detests his species, and longs to be revenged for the unpardonable injustice he has sustained in their insensibility to his merits. He lives upon the calamities of the world; the vices and miseries of men are his element and his food. Virtue, talents, and genius, are his natural enemies, which he persecutes with instinctive eagerness, and unremitting hostility. There are who doubt the existence of such a disposition; but it certainly issues out of the dregs of disappointed vanity; a disease which taints and vitiates the whole character wherever it prevails. It forms the heart to such a profound indifference to the welfare of others, that whatever appearances he may assume, or however wide the circle of his seeming virtues may extend, you will infallibly find the vain man is his own centre. Attentive only to himself, absorbed in the contemplation of his own perfections, instead of feeling tenderness for his fellow-creatures as members of the same family, as beings with whom he is appointed to act, to suffer, and to sympathise; he considers life as a stage on which he is performing a part, and mankind in no other light than spectators. Whether he smiles or frowns, whether his path is adorned with rays of beneficence, or his steps are dyed in blood, an attention to self is the spring of every movement, and the motive to which every action is referred. His apparent good qualities lose all their worth, by losing all that is simple, genuine, and natural: they are even pressed into the service of vanity, and become the means of enlarging its power. The truly good man is jealous over himself, lest the notoriety of his best actions, by blending itself with their motive, should diminish their value; the vain man performs the same actions for the sake of that notoriety. The good man quietly discharges his duty, and shuns ostentation; the vain man considers every good deed lost that is not publicly displayed. The one is intent upon realities, the other upon semblances: the one aims to be virtuous, the other to appear so. Nor is a mind inflated with vanity more disqualified for right action than just speculation, or better disposed to the pursuit of truth, than the practice of virtue. To such a mind the simplicity of truth is disgusting. Careless of the improvement of mankind, and intent only upon astonishing with the appearance of novelty, the glare of paradox will be preferred to the light of truth; opinions will be embraced, not because they are just, but because they are new; the more flagitious, the more subversive of morals, the more alarming to the wise and good, the more welcome to men who estimate their literary powers by the mischief they produce, and who consider the anxiety and terror they impress as the measure of their renown. Truth is simple and uniform, while error may be infinitely varied; and as it is one thing to start paradoxes, and another to make discoveries, we need the less wonder at the prodigious increase of modern philosophers. We have been so much accustomed to consider extravagant self-estimation merely as a ridiculous quality, that many will be surprised to find it treated as a vice, pregnant with serious mischief to society. But to form a judgment on its influence on the manners and happiness of a nation, it is necessary to look only at its effects in a family; for bodies of men are only collections of individuals, and the greatest nation is nothing more than an aggregate of a number of families. Conceive of a domestic circle, in which each member is elated with a most extravagant opinion of himself, and a proportionable contempt of every other; is full of little contrivances to catch applause, and whenever he is not praised is sullen and disappointed. What a picture of disunion, disgust, and animosity would such a family present! How utterly would domestic affection be extinguished, and all the purposes of domestic society be defeated! The general prevalence of such dispositions must be accompanied by an equal proportion of general misery. The tendency of pride to produce strife and hatred is sufficiently apparent from the pains men have been at to contract a system of politeness, which is nothing more than a sort of mimic humility, in which the sentiments of an offensive self-estimation are so far disguised and suppressed, as to make them compatible with the spirit of society; such a mode of behaviour as would naturally result from an attention to the apostolic injunction: Let nothing be done through strife or vain glory; but in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than themselves.' But if the semblance be of such importance, how much more usefu the reality! If the mere garb of humility be of such indispensable necessity, that without it society could not subsist, how much better still would the harmony of the world be preserved, were the condescension, deference, and respect, so studiously displayed, a true picture of the heart? The same restless and eager vanity which disturbs a family, when it is permitted, in a great national crisis, to mingle with political affairs, distracts a kingdom; infusing into those intrusted with the enaction of laws, a spirit of rash innovation and daring empiricism, a disdain of the established usages of mankind, a foolish desire to dazzle the world with new and untried systems of policy, in which the precedents of antiquity, and the experience of ages are only consulted to be trodden under foot; and into the executive department of government, a fierce contention for pre-eminence, an incessant struggle to supplant and destroy, with a propensity to calumny and suspicion, proscription, and massacre. We shall suffer the most eventful season ever witnessed in the affairs of men to pass over our heads to very little purpose, if we fail to learn from it some awful lessons on the nature and progress of the passions. The true light in which the French revolution ought to be contemplated, is that of a grand experiment on human nature. Among the various passions which that revolution has so strikingly displayed, none is more conspicuous than vanity; nor is it less difficult, without adverting to the national beings reduced to the same level. He looks at character of the people, to account for its extra- his superiors without envy, and his infer o.s ordinary predominance, Political power, the without contempt; and when from this elevation most seducing object of ambition, never before he descends to mix in society, the conviction of circulated through so many hands; the prospect superiority, which must in many instances be of possession was never before presented to so felt, is a calm inference of the understanding, many minds. Moltitudes, who by their birth and no longer a busy, importunate passion of the and education, and not unfrequently by their heart. talents, seemed destined to perpetual obscurity, were, by the alternate rise and fall of parties, elevated into distinction, and shared in the functions of government. The short-lived forms of power and office glided with such rapidity through successive ranks of degradation, from the court to the very dregs of the populace, that they seemed rather to solicit acceptance, than to be a prize contended for.* Yet, as it was still impossible for all to possess authority, though none were willing to obey, a general impatience to break the ranks and rush into the foremost ground, maddened and infuriated the nation, and overwhelmed law, order, and civilization, with the violence of a torrent. If such be the mischiefs both in public and private life resulting from an excessive self-estimation, it remains next to be considered, whether Providence has supplied any medicine to correct it; for the reflection on excellencies, whether real or imaginary, is always attended with pleasure to the possessor; it is a disease deeply seated in our nature. The wicked (says the Psalmist)-through the pride of their countenance, will not seek after God: God is not in all their thoughts." When we consider the incredible vanity of the atheistical sect, together with the settled malignity and unrelenting rancour with which they pursue every vestige of religion, is it uncandid to suppose that its humbling tendency is one principal cause of their emnity; that they are eager to displace a Deity from the minds of men, that they may occupy the void; to crumble the throne of the Eterual into dust, that they may elevate themselves on its ruins, and that as their licentiousness is impatient of restraint, so their pride disdains a superior? We mentioned a ferocity of character as one effect of sceptical impiety. It is an inconvenience attending a controversy with those with whom we have few principles in common, that we are often in danger of reasoning inconclusively, for the want of its being clearly known and settled what our opponents admit and what they deny. The persons, for example, with whom we are at present engaged, have discarded humility and modesty from the catalogue of virtues; on which account, we have employed the more time in evincing their importance: but, whatever may be thought of humility as a virtue, it surely will not be denied, that inhumanity is a most detestable vice; a vice however, which scepticism has a most powerful tendency to inflame. Suppose there were a great and glorious Being always present with us, who had given existence, with numberless other blessings, and on whom we depended each instant, as well for every present enjoyment as for every future good: suppose a cat we had incurred the just displeasue of such a Being, by ingratitude and disobedience, yet that in geat mercy he had not cast us odd, but assired as be was willing to pidoa and restore us on our ter le entreaty and sincere repentance; say, would not an habitual sense of the presence of this Bang, selfreproach for having displeased in, and an anxiety to recover pis favor, be the most ofcetual antidote to pride' But such are tiakideg discoveries mad by the Cristian revelatoo, and saca the disposi eas which a pract cal belief of it inspires. Hamdy is the first fruct of reliIn the mouth of our Lord there is no ALIAN JE SO I'equent as the following. Whosooverexangá h. nsed so til be a'awd, and he that 1424) Huset sid. be exitel. Religion, und that one, teaches absente aumility; by which I arem à sense of our absolute nothingDes a "he view of inite greatness, and excelThat seise of interiority wich results from the comparison of men with each other's oden að slæcicode sent nent forced spen the ind, when may rater ecider te tem, er than sorten it: that which devotion 12posseancardonable levity. If such be me destinaten sooching and leggi The levou a ves W e ow at the versuoi af 15 C»Ror, NTIUSE is leve de did. IS THE "POSL vy exceNG MUS 2. The ¿ viae sive fence, and the most req.l QU NIce Deze Tur. In augst 4 DESACE e xes l astacuvas ast, and i As we have already shown that pride hardens the heart, and that religion is the only effectual antidote-the connexion between irreligion and inhumanity is in this view obvious. But there is another light in which this part of the subject may be viewed, in our opinion, much more impitant, though seldom advert i to. The supposition that man is a moral and accountable bung, destined to survive the stroke of death and to live in a future world in a rever en ling state of happiness or misery, makes him a creature of incomparably more cu asejanice than the or posite suppesideO When we c asider him paced here by a Àm goty ruler, in a state of predation, and that the present i e is his period of trial, the first Unk in a vast and interminable etain wire stretches into eternity, he assumes a dined character in our eyes. Every thing which relates to .n becomes nterest. to trade with his happiness is it to be the most |