The nature, and danger, of infidel philosophy, exhibited in two discourses, addressed to the candidates for the Baccalaureate, in Yale College, / by the Rev. Timothy Dwight, D.D. president of Yale College; September 9th, 1797.

THE NATURE AND DANGER OF INFIDEL PHILOSOPHY. SERMON SECOND.

COLOSSIANS ii. 8.

BEWARE, LEST ANY MAN SPOIL YOU THROUGH PHILOSOPHY AND VAIN DECEIT, AFTER THE TRADITION OF MEN, AFTER THE RUDIMENTS OF THE WORLD, AND NOT AFTER CHRIST.

Secondly. I SHALL now endeavour to shew you, that, vain and deceitful as this Philo|sophy is, both in its nature and in fact, you are still in danger of becoming a prey to it.

THIS danger will arise from several sources, I shall specify those which appear to me to be of chief importance.

I. You will be exposed to this danger from the arguments, brought by Philosophers against the Scriptures.

INFIDELS will probably triumph, and you may be surprised, to find Arguments mentioned as a source of danger. But your surprise and their tri|umph are both without foundation.

WHEREVER arguments are fairly adduced, and questions thoroughly explored by reasoning, there can be no danger to truth, or to the friends of truth; for in every such investigation, truth must have de|cisive advantages over falshood. But questions are

not always so explored, nor arguments always so ad|duced. Ingenious and able men are not always candid men, nor always desirous of investigation or establishing truth. Their ingenuity is not unfrequent|ly employed in obscuring, where it should illumine, and in perplexing, where it should clear. Ignorant persons may always be embarrassed by the reasonings of the learned and skilful, and those who are not versed in any subject of controversy, by studied champions.

MANY readers of this Philosophy are ignorant; many impatient of thorough investigation, and ac|customed to depend for their opinions on others; to be swayed by great and celebrated names, and im|plicitly to yield to high authority; and all are by nature inclined to their side of the question. Chri|stianity is a system of restraint on every passion, and every appetite. Some it forbids entirely: and all it confines within limits, which by the mass of mankind, both learned and unlearned, will be esteemed nar|row and severe. Philosophy, on the contrary, holds out, as you have already seen, a general license to every passion and appetite. Its doctrines therefore please of course; and find a ready welcome in the heart.

MANKIND being thus prepared, it cannot be thought strange, that Infidel Philosophy, although destitute of a basis in truth, and of support from evi|dence, should present danger, even from arguments. Its great object is to unsettle every thing moral and obligatory, and to settle nothing. Objection is, therefore, its chief employment, and its only em|ployment, in which danger can be found. Had it been engaged merely in devising moral systems of its own, it would have provoked no other answer from Commonsense, than a stare, or a smile.

AN objector will always find some advantages from the character, which he assumes. He finds advan|tages with respect to labour. A sentence will often express an obligation, which must be answered by a volume. He will find advantages in the nature of his disputation. The plainest and most undoubted truths may be forcibly assailed by objections, and by such as are obvious to a very limited understanding.

THE objections against the Scriptures, which will be formidable, are chiefly derived from two sources

1. THE doctrines of the Scriptures are, and in the nature of the case must be, in several instances, mys|terious. The doctrines of the Scriptures are chiefly employed about the nature of Man, and the exist|ence, character, designs, and will, of God. The first of these subjects, notwithstanding the laborious and ardent investigation of three thousand years, is still far from being satisfactorily explained. The daily inquiries and voluminous treatises of these very Phi|losophers, and the new views, which they continually attempt to exhibit, of this subject, prove the asser|tion to be true, in their opinion at least; and, were there a doubt remaining, a child could easily remove it; for a child can ask questions concerning human nature, which no Philosopher can answer. The last of these subjects, the existence, character, designs, and will, of God, is more mysterious than any other. Of both these subjects Revelation is a professed ac|count; and as the subjects are in their nature myste|rious, so the Revelation must, to consist with truth, be, in many respects, mysterious also. In such sub|jects difficulties may be easily and always found. As it is impossible, that we should thoroughly under|stand them, the parts, which we do not understand, will furnish difficulties respecting those, which we do. Of the nature of existence, substances, causality, and the mode of operation, we know little or nothing,

even where creatures are the subjects of investiga|tion. Of the Creator it may well be supposed, and must be acknowledged, that we know less than of creatures. Many particulars of these great subjects of the Scriptures must be unknown. Wherever we are ignorant, we cannot comprehend; and wherever we cannot comprehend, we can find many difficul|ties, much perplexity, and much doubt. A man of moderate talents will easily perceive, and forcibly represent, such difficulties; but no man can, in ma|ny cases, remove them. They can be removed only by the attainment of perfect knowledge of the sub|jects, and such knowledge can never be attained by man.

THE difficulties, objected to the Scriptures on this score, all arise from what we know not, and not from what we know. Infidels do not shew, that that, which is disclosed, is contrary to any thing, which we know, but merely that all is not disclosed, which we might wish to be disclosed, and which is necessa|ry to a thorough comprehension of the subject. They do not shew, that what is disclosed, and be|lieved, is untrue, or improbable; but that it is mys|terious and incomprehensible 〈◊〉〈◊〉 other words, that it contains things, which lies beyond the human ca|pacity. This, instead of being a solid objection against the Revelation of the Scriptures, is a mere exposition of human ignorance. In this part of their conclusions there is no controversy between them and us.

THE mysteriousness of the Scriptures, in several particulars, has been often directly as well as insid|iously, objected against their divine origin. To me it appears to be a plain and powerful argument in favour of that origin. Were there nothing in Cre|ation or Providence, which man could not compre|hend, one important proof that they were works of

God would be taken away. Were there nothing in Revelation, which man could not perfectly under|stand, a similar proof of its reality would be destroy|ed. What man can thus understand, man might, for ought that appears, have also devised.

OBJECTIONS of this nature must, to possess any real force, arise from something which we know, and not from that of which we are ignorant. The things objected to ought to be inconsistent with something seen and understood; otherwise whatever perplexi|ty they may occasion in those, who dwell upon them, they can never produce rational conviction.

2. ANOTHER class of objects, against which simi|lar objections have been made, is composed of facts, manners, and other local circumstances. The Scrip|tures, being written in a distant age, and country, record facts, which must in a considerable measure be connected with facts and circumstances, neces|sarily unknown by us; and appeal to manners, cus|toms, and other local circumstances, which must be equally unknown. The same difficulties may, therefore, be raised in this, as in the former case, and with the same success. In both cases our ignorance, and not the falshood of the things declared, is the cause of the difficulties specified. By this I intend that a person perfectly acquainted with the things, stated in the Scriptures, and with all their appenda|ges, would not only clearly discern the truth and propriety of the statement, but be able to explain its truth and propriety to our full satisfaction; while, at the same time, the same person, being supposed to be as ignorant as ourselves, would find all the difficul|ties in the statement, which are found by us. Still the statement is the same, and neither more nor less true, but is more or less explicable, as the person proposed is more or less informed.

HENCE it is clear, that, although Christians should not be able to shew how many facts, recorded in the Scriptures, took place, by what acts they were pre|ceded or followed, what were their causes, atten|dants, or consequences, this furnishes no solid objec|tion to the Scriptures as a Revelation. Every ob|jection of this nature must, to be solid, contradict some known fact, and be attended with difficulties of some other nature than mere inexplicableness. If this be admitted as a proof of falshood in writings, no ancient history can be believed.

A HAPPY illustration of these sentiments and a strong proof of what may even now be done to throw light on this class of objects in the Scriptures, may be found in the first Volume of Lardner's Credibil|ity of the Gospel history. In this able and success|ful Work a system of facts impossible to be com|pletely understood, unless developed in some such method, is unanswerably proved to be true.

THE very same difficulties are found, and to a greater degree, in the Works, than in the Word, of God, Under the impressions, made by the former, the same men become atheists, who under those made by the latter, became deists. Those, on the contrary, who require proofs, and inconsistences with something known, to support or destroy, their belief, will admit the world to be the work, and the Scrip|tures to be the word, of God. So true is the de|claration of the Committee of Public Instruction to the National Convention of France, that a Nation of Theists must of course become Revelationists.

THIS method of objecting to the Scriptures will make little impression no men disposed impartially and thoroughly to examine, and possessed of the proper means of examination. Still there is dan|ger from it to you. Think not this a censure, or a

proof of disesteem. You are young; you will find difficulties; you may be perplexed; you may doubt. Every difficulty you will not be able to remove. Such as you would be able to remove you will not always find the necessary time and means of remo|ving. Inclination, industry, proper books, and able friends, may not be easily found. Study, therefore, and in season, so far as you can, the evidences, by which Revelation is supported, and suffer nothing to destroy their force, or to unsettle your faith, unless it clearly opposes something, which is really known.

II. ANOTHER source of danger to you is the Confidence, with which most Philosophers assert their doctrines, and advance their arguments.

IT is an unjust, yet it is a common conclusion of the mind, that confidence in asserting is as an argu|ment of knowledge in the assertor. You have, doubtless, often heard observations like this. "He must know; or he would not assert so strongly and confidently." From the advantages of education, which you have enjoyed, I presume you have, however, adopted an opinion directly contrary to that above specified; and are all ready to say, that hold assertions, and confident airs of knowledge and wisdom, are of course suspicious; and that, instead of being influenced by them to be|lieve the more readily, you should only be indu|ced to doubt. Still let me inform you, there is dan|ger to you from this source. Peremptory declara|tions, bold assurance, and that appearance of knowl|edge, which defies opposition, have ever had no small influence in gaining credit to the doctrines, which they were intended to support. Youths, un|acquainted with the world, and with the arts and ad|dress which are used in it, and untaught, or taught only by books, that, usually, assertions are roundly made, because they are faintly believed by the as|sertor,

as lies are commonly backed by oaths and curses, will not rarely imagine, that what is so plump|ly said must be true, or at least highly probable. This will happen especially, when the assertor is a man of talents and reputation. In such a man vanity is not expected to rule, prejudice to decide, nor arro|gance to dictate. On the contrary, he is presuppo|sed to examine with care, to assent only to evidence, and to assert from rational conviction. It would be happy, were this preconceived opinion verified by experience; but most unhappily no opinion is more fallacious. All the prejudices, which are found in ordinary men are often found in those of superior minds, and not unfrequently in higher de|grees. To these they superadd, in many instances, that pride of talents, which operates to a groundless, deceitful, and let me add contemptible, confidence in their own decisions, and a magisterial and oracu|lar method of communicating them to mankind. Sus|pect these appearances, therefore, wherever you find them, and remember, that confidence of assertion, and airs of triumph, infer not any certainty in the opinion declared.

III. ANOTHER source of the danger specified is found in the various methods, used by Philosophers to persuade their readers, that their opinions are embraced by the great body of mankind, especially of the ingenious and learned.

IT is a remarkable fact in the History of man, that vice has always claimed a superiority over virtue, ir|religion and unbelief over faith. In common life, no sooner does a man enter boldly upon the practice of vice and licentiousness, than he arrogates to him|self a character superiour to that of his sober com|panions, and to his own former character. A loose man rarely speaks concerning one, of more worth, without evident proofs of conscious superiority. Vir|tue,

itself, if you will take the pains to examine, will be found to be, in his view, the weak and inferior part of his neighbour's character, and vice the great and superiour ingredient in his own. According to this method of estimation, Satan, as described in the Scriptures, is the most respectable being in the uni|verse.

THE superiority, claimed by Infidels over Believ|ers, is not less unfounded; even if we admit what few Christians would probably admit, viz. that its foun|dation is not exactly the same. Christians believe, that the Scriptures are, and Infidels that they are not, a divine Revelation. Neither they, nor we, know; both classes merely believe; for the case ad|mits not of knowledge, nor can it be determined with certainty. The only question, to be decided between the contending parties, is-which believes on the best evidence. Infidels are believers equally with Christians, and merely believe the contrary po|sition. That faith therefore, which is best support|ed, is the most rational, and ought to confer the su|periority of character.

AT the present time, a new engine is abundantly employed to establish this distinction in favour of in|fidels. It is boldly asserted, that the world has hi|therto lain in a state of ignorance and infancy; that it has been chained by authority, and influenced by superstition, but that it has, at the present time, bro|ken at once its bonds, roused itself into manly exer|tion, and seized intuitively upon the whole system of truth, moral, political, and natural. Of this mighty and propitious change in the affairs of man Infidel Philosophers claim to be the sole authors. Hence the character of ingenious and learned is challenged as being in a sense their exclusive property.

I cheerfully admit, Young Gentlemen, that many

Infidels have been ingenious men; that some of them have been learned men; and that a few of them have been great men. Hume, Tindal, and a few others, have been distinguished for superior strength of mind, Boling broke for eloquence of the pen, Vol|taire for brilliancy of imagination, and various oth|ers for respectable talents of different kinds. But I am wholly unable to form a list of Infidels, which can, without extreme disadvantage, be compared with the two Bacons, Erasmus, Cumberland, Stil|lingfleet, Grotius. Locke, Butler, Newton, Boyle, Berkeley, Milton, Johnson, &c. In no walk of gen|ius, in no path of knowledge, can Infidels support a claim to superiority, or equality with Christians.

NOR am I less ready to acknowledge, that inge|nious men have lately made, and are still making, many improvements in science and in arts. Un|happy would it indeed be, if, after all the advan|ces of preceeding ages, the present should be unable to advance at all; if no additional truth should be discovered, and no erroneous opinion detected. But what, let me ask, would have been our situation, had these and many other able men, of past ages, ne|ver lived? How much of all, which we know, is con|tained in their works, and derived solely from their talents and labours? Can it be just, can it be decent, to forget the hand that feeds us, and to treat with contempt those, without whose assistance we should have been savages and blockheads.

THAT the world has materially changed, and is still changing, in many important particulars, can|not be questioned; but whether these particulars are either profitable, or honourable, may well be questioned. That the knowledge, or the happiness, of mankind has been increased by the change is yet to be proved. We have not yet put off the harness, and our time for rational boasting is, therefore, not

arrived. When some of the favourite dogmas of modern times have been better supported by argu|ments, and received a more auspicious sanction from experience, there will be evidence in their favour, which hitherto has not appeared.

YOU will easily see, what has been said, that, when Infidel Philosophy is asserted to be embraced by the great body of the learned and ingenious, noth|ing more is intended, than to assert the superiour character of Infidels to Christians; not a superiority arising from native talents, or from attainments, but from Infidelity. It is not intended, that learned and ingenious Christians have been convinced and be|come Infidels, but that Christians are of course des|titute of learning and Ingenuity; and Infidels of course possessed of both. The real weight of this ar|gument I leave to your decision.

ALLOWING, however, the whole of what is thus asserted, no argument will be furnished by it against Christianity. The most extensive prevalence of a system is no proof of its truth. Heathenism for|merly overspread the world, and numbered, as its votaries, nearly all the learned and unlearned of the human race. Was it therefore, a system of truth? The Aristotelian Philosophy prevailed among all the learned men in Europe, for two thousand years. Would you, therefore, embrace it? When Galileo received the Copernican system, almost all the learned and unlearned disbelieved it. Was it there|fore false?

WHEN Christianity first began its progress, it could boast of only twelve poor, uneducated men as its champions, with perhaps less than one thousand followers. By the labours of this little band it over|turned, in less than three centuries, most of the su|perstition, power, policy, learning, and philosophy,

of the known world. By the labours of Luther, Melancthon, Zuingle, and Calvin, it rose again from extreme depression, in the face, and against the strength, of the most formidable power, which the world has ever seen. Should it again return to the same depression, it will again rise on the ruins of all its enemies. Every promise, made to Christians, has been hitherto exactly fulfilled. Those, which respect periods yet to come, will receive the same faithful completion.

YET such is the character of man, and especially in his youth, that you will feel the influence of this triumphant assertion. You will feel, at times, in danger of being left alone, and at least of being de|serted and opposed by genius and knowledge; and will naturally shrink from a combat, in which skill, strength, and numbers are imagined to be enrolled on the side of the enemy. I have only to observe further, that your choice of Christianity will not be less wise, because numbers oppose it, nor your salva|tion less complete, because it is not obtained by In|fidels. * 1.1

IV. ANOTHER source of this danger is the Con|tempt and Ridicule, with which Christianity is oppo|sed.

CONTEMPT is the spirit, and ridicule the weapon, with which Christianity has long been principally op|posed. In this Lord Shaftsbury led the way; or, perhaps more properly, he gave a peculiar counte|nance and support to this method of attacking Chris|tianity, by advancing the remarkable opinion, that Ridicule is the test of Truth. In pursuing this doc|trine

he himself is unwarily led to declare, that this very Ridicule must be brought to the test of Reason, or Argument. The whole train of Infidel Philoso|phers, whatever may have been their opinion, have harmonized with him in the practice. Voltaire, who regarded all means alike, provided they would aid the accomplishment of his own ends, writes thus to his friend, D'Alembert. "Render those pedants, (i. e. divines) as enormously ridiculous as you can. Rid|icule will do every thing. It is the strongest of all weapons. A bon mot is as good a thing as a good book."

I DONT deny, that ridicule may be properly used in certain cases; but I wholly deny the propriety of using it to decide any serious concern of mankind. A proud and vain man will always affect and express contempt for all, who differ from him, and especial|ly for those, who oppose him; and for all the argu|ments, adduced against his opinions, especially for those, which he is unable to confront with arguments of superiour force. But pride and vanity are foolish passions, and uniformly lessen the ability of a man either to discover, or to receive, moral truth. Pre|judice is proverbially acknowledged to be a potent hindrance to the discovery, and the reception, of truth; and pride begets the strongest of all preju|ries. In itself it is gross misjudging, mistake, and folly; and in its effects it involves a host of follies and mistakes. Hence the Wisest of all men, from profound acquaintance with the nature of man, has declared, that "the Rod of pride is in the mouth of the foolish."

THE cause, which needs these weapons, cannot be just; the doctrine, which cannot be supported without them, must be false. All men, when press|ed with argument, and trembling through fear of being convicted of error, resort, of course, to such

means of defence, or of attack, as are in their power. When reasons fail, ridicule is still left; and he who cannot disprove, can still inquire with arrogance and disdain "What will this Babbler say." Over the cool and modest opponent he will feel a superiority of spirit, if not of argument; and will quit the field with the stride of triumph, and the consciousness of that victory, for which he contended. His capital ob|ject is attained. He has not, it is true, repelled his adversary; but he has claimed a triumph over him; he has not defended his own ground; but he has not been forced to acknowledge himself defeated.

UNWORTHY and unsatisfying as this method of at|tacking Christianity appears, and in spite of the strong presumptions against a cause, which has ever needed and resorted to it, you will find no small dan|ger from these very weapons. You will dread to become the objects of scorn, and to be wounded by the shafts of derision. You will be afraid to declare yourselves friends to a cause, which has been the standing jest of so many men of wit, and which has been so often and so publickly holden up to systemat|ized contempt; to which insult is merit, and mock|ery a fashion.

YOUNG, novices in human affairs, doubtful of your own strength, partially acquainted with this great controversy, ardently covering esteem, and trembling at the approach of disreputation, you will need no common share of fortitude, no frequent de|gree of self-command, to stand the shock, to examine the true character of the contending parties, and to discern the real nature of the conflicting causes. Could you assume this fortitude, and accomplish this examination, the danger would vanish; but you will be assailed so often, and so powerfully, that, perplex|ed before by the arguments, which I have men|tioned, you will be in imminent hazard of yielding

yourselves a prey, to avoid the fatigues of an ardu|ous and unremitted contest, and to shun the assaults of an enemy, who, not only points his arrows with steel, but dips them in poison.

V. ANOTHER source of this danger is the actual Bias of the world towards Infidelity.

THE natural propensity of man, as exhibited by the Scriptures, and as proved by all experience, is a propensity to sin. The conviction of this truth has spread through mankind, in every age, and in every country. Their religions have all been steadily employed to expiate it, their laws and education to restrain it, their conversation and their histories to recount its effects. Sin and Infidelity are mutually causes and effects. Sin demands and prompts to In|fidelity, as its justification; Infidelity warrants, en|courages, and defends sin. Sin derives its peace and security from Infidelity; Infidelity its reception, support, and friends, from sin. Thus, in every age, there is a natural bias in man to infidelity.

THIS bias possesses, at different periods, different degrees of strength. Numbers, men in power, men of popular characters, men of great talents, contribute, by turns, to the general currency of vice, or virtue, of truth, or falshood. From these and various other causes, it becomes fashionable, at times, to be grave, decent, moral, and even religious; and, at times, to be dissolute, licentious, and gross.

THE fashionable bias of the present time will be readily acknowledged to be unfavourable to Christi|anity. Beside the influence of a long progress in|vice, since the Reformation, and the revival of Reli|gion consequent upon it, a progress loudly proclaim|ed by Infidels, as well as by Christians; beside the influence of all the incessant attacks, made upon Re|ligion

and Virtue by Philosophers; the present sin|gular convulsion of Europe has had a most malig|nant efficacy on this subject. At no period has the human mind discovered such impatience of moral restraint, broken with so bold a hand the bonds of duty, or defied in such haughty terms morals, reli|gion, and the government of God. Were the pre|sent a proper occasion, it would be easy to shew the connection between such a convulsion and the gener|al demoralization of the human race, the depression of virtue, and the subversion of human happiness. Suffice it to say, here, that, did not the evil furnish a cure, from its own bowels, did it not prove, by what it has already effected, that, within a little pe|riod of its progress, it will, if unrestrained, convert man into a savage, and the world into a desert, its final mischief to the cause of Christianity could not be calculated. Circumstanced as it is, it has filled every Christian, every friend of the human race, ev|ery sober man, with serious alarms, not for the per|manence of Christianity, but for the continuance of peace, the safety of every right, and the existence of every valuable interest.

IN your own country the effects of this convul|sion, and the strength of this bias, are less perceived. Here the friends of Revelation greatly outnumber its enemies. But even here the evil in a degree ex|ists. Nor will its influence probably be small. The report will, in some measure, affect you from abroad. At home, you will see one decent or doubtful person, and another, sliding slowly down the declivity of ir|religion, and many, more heedless, or more daring, leaping at once into the gulph beneath. Here, a companion will turn his back, and walk no more with Christ. There, a Parent, or Instructor, will forsake him, having loved the present world. A|mong these will frequently be found the gay, the pleasing, and the accomplished; and in some instan|ces,

the grave, the learned, and the honourable. On one side, the temptation will charm; on the oth|er it will sanction. Allured, awed, supported, per|haps without a friend at hand to pluck you by the arm, or to point to you either the danger or the means of escaping it, it can scarcely be hoped, that none of you will be destroyed. Most of the Infi|dels, whom I have known, have fallen a sacrifice to this cause, or to the fear of ridicule.

VI. A GREATER source of this danger, than any which has been mentioned, is a natural Bias in your own hearts against Christianity.

YOU, like the rest of men, are naturally attached to the pleasures of sin, to the unlawful gratifications of passion and appetite. Whatever indulges this attachment will be regarded by you with compla|cency; whatever restrains it, however necessarily, or usefully, will be viewed with pain. The most pow|erful, the most universal, the most constantly felt, the most difficult to be escaped, of all such restraints, is the system of doctrines, contained in the Scriptures. Civil Government, in a different manner, is employ|ed in promoting the same end, and, at times, operates with a superior efficacy. But its influence is felt only within certain limits, and on particular occa|sions; whereas the Scriptures extend their influ|ence to every place, time, and action, seek out the offender in solitude, as well as in crowds, sound the alarm at midnight, as well as in the open day, enter into the recesses of the bosom, watch the ri|sing sin, and threaten the guilty purpose, while it is yet a shapeless embryo. Hence, more than Civil Government itself, it has been maligned, and com|bated, by licentious men.

THE restraints of Christianity you, like others, will, at times, feel with impatience and pain. From

this impatience will naturally spring wishes to free yourselves from companions so intrusive and trou|blesome; and such wishes will naturally terminate in attempts to accomplish this freedom. Of all means to this end the most obvious, the most easy, the most effectual, is disbelief. To disbelief, therefore, you will be strongly inclined; and much care, resolution, and fidelity to yourselves, will be necessary to resist the influence, and avert the danger, of this inclina|tion.

IN this and in every case, in which man is placed, assistance may be given, the mind may be strength|ened, and safety may be obtained, by the proper use of such means, as are furnished by the Providence of God. From me, with more propriety than from most others, you may justly expect such assistance. To you I stand in a near, important, and parental re|lation. I have gone before you through the same course, have felt the same danger, and have been strongly tempted by means of them to yield myself a prey to this unhappy Philosophy. I cannot, there|fore, be indifferent to the dangers of others, especial|ly of you, my pupils, my children. Nor can I be more properly employed, on this the last opportuni|ty allowed me of rendering to you my official duty, than in endeavouring in so interesting a case to com|municate to you the means of strength and safety. This, you will remember, was the

THIRD thing, proposed in this discourse, viz. to attempt to dissuade you from yielding yourselves a prey to this Philosophy.

MANY dissuasives from this conduct are, I trust, already suggested to you in the account, already given of this Philosophy. A reception of such doc|trines, and an union with such men, cannot be sup|posed as rational, or expedient. No one of you

would, in a cool moment of deliberation, consent ei|ther to such belief, or to such conduct. It will be yours to decide, that your judgment shall not bow to inclination and prejudice.

IN addition to the dissuasives already suggested let me urge, in the

I. PLACE, as a strong reason to prevent you from embracing Infidel Philosophy, its continually chang|ing character.

TRUTH is, at all times, and with respect to all things, of an unchangeable nature. Every change of doctrines furnishes intuitive certainty, that either the doctrine which is renounced, or the doctrine which is assumed, is false. This changeable character is eminently the character of this Philosophy. Among the ancients it was a mere wind of doctrine, varying through all the points of the compass. Among the moderns, also, it has, cameleon like, appeared of many colours, Lord Herbert published it under the form of Natural Religion. This he insisted on, in strong and solemn terms, as a sum of duties indis|pensible; and declared, that men were wholly ac|countable for the discharge of them, and that accor|ding to their fulfilment, or neglect, of them they would be judged and rewarded. Yet even he sap|ped the foundation of his whole system, by under|mining moral obligation, and removing guilt from sin. Him several succeeding writers appeared, in a degree, and at times, disposed to follow; but even they, with most others, fell speedily into mere Infidel|ity: i. e. They believed neither Natural nor Reveal|ed Religion. Of course, they left themselves with|out law, obligation, or duty. The system, now be|came a system of mere objection. According to it, Christianity was false, and nothing else was true: i. e. they substituted nothing, as a rule of duty, in its place.

In the mean time, they in a degree, and their follow|ers in a greater degree, by insinuation, assertion, and argument, justified the indulgencies of passion and ap|petite, and exhibited them as the true, the chief, and even the only, good of man. From this, which may be called the Animal system of Morals, the next gra|dation was the doctrine of the Pyrrhonists and New Academics, usually termed Scepticism. This was the favourite doctrine of Mr. Hume, and is exhi|bited by him as the summit of human attainments. Nor did the contradiction, which attends the very reception of this doctrine, at all startle his sagacious mind, shocked as it was by the bare idea of a miracle. From this step but one advancement remained, viz. downright Atheism. This is now the most general, and the most approved, Infidel Philosophy. "De|ism," says a modern Infidel writer, "is but the first step of Reason out of Superstition (i. e. out of Re|vealed Religion.) No person remains a Deist, but through want of Reflection, timidity, passion, or ob|stinacy. Time, experience, and an impartial ex|amination of our ideas, will undeceive us," (i. e. make us Atheists.) "The Supreme Being" says Anacharsis Cloots (the Reporter of the Committee of Public Instruction to the French National Conven|tion) in an official Report of that Committee, "the Eternal Being, is no other than Nature uncreat|ed and uncreatable; and the only Providence is the Association of mankind in freedom and equality. Man, when free, wants no other Divinity than him|self. Reason dethrones both the Kings of the earth, and the Kings of heaven. No Monarchy above, if we wish to preserve our republic below. Volumes have been written to determine whether a republic of Atheists could exist. I maintain, that every oth|er republic is a chimera. If you once admit the existence of a heavenly Sovereign, you introduce the wooden horse within your walls! What you adore by day will be your destruction at night. A

people of Theists will necessarily become Revela|tionists." Thus the great body of Lord Herbert's fol|lowers espouse and maintain doctrines, which he de|clared to be incapable of being received by any man, who deserved the name of a rational being.

BUT all these things cannot be true. If Natural Religion be truth, then Scepticism cannot be truth: the Animal system cannot be truth; mere Infidelity cannot be truth; Atheism cannot be truth. The very face of this Philosophy is, therefore, suspicious. The features are not parts of the same countenance, and, when seen together, present even to the glan|cing eye, instead of beauty and loveliness, an incon|gruous and forbidding deformity.

THE variance of this Philosophy is by no means confined to the account, already given. Each of these forms furnishes many diversities and changes. Athe|ism itself is exhibited under many appearances. As a total denial of God, it is now the atomic, or Epicure|an system of things brought together by an eternal conatus, or endeavour, towards exertion, casually acting at a particular unknown period. It is the eternal existence of the world in its present form, and an eternal succession of human generations. It is a system of chemical and mechanical operations of matter on such an eternal world, which by a happy and mysterious energy, at some lucky moment, gave birth to thought and volition, which, by a concur|rence of circumstances equally lucky, have since continued themselves. It is the volcanic system, by which suns were emitted from a distant unknown mass, the matrix of the Universe; worlds from suns, and continents and their furniture from worlds. As partial Atheism, it is Scepticism. It is an admission of the being of God, and a denial of his Attributes. It is an admission of his being, and denial of his

Providence. It is a denial of a future state to Man. It is an acknowledgement of the world, or of fire, or of all the elements, or of an unknown Anima mundi, or soul of the Universe, as God. In a word, it is any thing, and every thing, rather than an ac|knowledgement of the One, Infinite, and All-per|fect JEHOVAH.

IN all these, and in all other, systems of Infidel Philosophy, the difficulties and embarrassments to faith are lessened neither in number, nor in degree. On the contrary, they are multiplied, and enhanced, beyond calculation. The usual course of the con|troversy has been this. Infidels have uniformly at|tacked, and Christians merely defended; Infidels have found difficulties, and Christians have employ|ed themselves merely, or chiefly, in removing them. Hence Infidels have naturally felt, and written, as if the difficulties lay solely on the Christian side of the debate. Had Christians, with more worldly wisdom, carried their arms into the fortresses of their anta|gonists, they would long since, and very easily, have proved them to be every where weak and untenable, the sheds only, and pens, of occasional marauders.

IN embracing such a Philosophy what satisfaction can be found, what resting place for the mind? To Philosophers it has plainly furnished none; for they have retreated, and wandered, from one residence to a|nother; and have thus proved, that they have discov|ered no place, where they could permanently and comfortably abide. You will feel even more unset|tled. You feel that you are rational and immortal, that your interests are therefore immense and ines|timable, and that an effectual provision for them de|mands, and will repay, every care, and every exertion. To a mind, thus circumstanced, uncertainty is corro|ding and intolerable; and from a system thus fluc|tuating

nothing but uncertainty can be gained, or hoped. Wretched must be the condition of that mind, which, labouring with intense anxiety to dis|cover a peaceful rest for an unsatisfied conscience, and a final home at the close of a weary pilgrimage, finds within the horizon of its view nothing but a structure built of clouds, variable in its form, and shadowy in its substance, gay indeed with a thousand brilliant colours, and romantic with all the fantasti|cal diversities of shape, but bleak, desolate, and inca|pable of being inhabited.

II. THIS Philosophy presents no efficacious means of restraining Vice, or promoting Virtue; but on the contrary encourages Vice and discourages Virtue.

I HAVE already considered this subject at some length, as the Philosophers themselves and their dis|ciples were concerned. As every person may not transfer the argument from them to himself, or to others, it may be useful to see this application made, and with a degree of particularity.

ALL Virtue is summed up in Piety to God, Jus|tice, truth, and kindness to our fellow-men, and the government of our own passions and appetites, com|monly called self-government, or self-denial. All Vice is comprised in the dispositions and conduct, opposite to these. The only possible encouragements to Virtue are either the pleasure which Virtue gives, or the rewards which it promises. The only re|strainsts upon Vice are the pain which it produces, or the punishment with which it is threatened.

THAT Piety is not encouraged by this Philosophy will scarcely need to be proved. A great propor|tion of Infidel Philosophers deny the existence of God, and thus expunge not only the obligation, but the possibility, of being pious.

Mr. HOBBES says that all Religion is ridiculous.

MR. BLOUNT objects to prayer as a duty.

LORD SHAFTSBURY asserts that Salvation is a ri|diculous thing.

DOCTOR TINDAL, that every Man must form rules of duty for himself, and that these must vary as circumstances vary.

Mr. CHUBB, that all Religions are alike, and that it is of no consequence what Religion a man embra|ces; and he allows not the least room to believe,

That dependence on God's Providence, trust in him, and resignation to him, are any parts of duty, or Religion.

Mr. HOBBES asserts, that that, which is not matter, is nothing.

Mr. BLOUNT insinuates, that there are two inde|pendent and eternal Beings; one good, the other evil.

Mr. HUME, that there is no reason to believe that the Universe proceeded from a Cause;

That it is unreasonable to believe God infinitely wise and good;

That what we believe to be a perfection in God may be a defect.

Lord BOLINGBROKE, that God is possessed of no moral Attribute discoverable by us;

That God did not determine the existence of par|ticular men; and

That God concerns not himself with the affairs of men; or, if he does, he only regards collective bodies of men, and not individuals.

HERE we see it directly taught, that if there be a God, matter is the only God; that there is no evi|dence, that the Universe proceeded from a Cause; and that it is unreasonable to believe it; that God has no discoverable moral perfection; that what we call moral perfections, such as holiness, truth, justice, and goodness, may be mere defects; that God con|cerns

not himself with the affairs or conduct of indi|vidual men, and of course not with the affairs of communities; that he does not even determine their existence; and of course as we came into existence without him, we have nothing to do with him. We are also taught, that Salvation is ridiculous, that prayer is a fault, or sin, that dependence, trust, and resignation, are no parts of Religion, and that all Religions are alike. Of course we are taught, that there is rationally no such thing as piety; no such thing as a God, the object of piety; or if there is, that there is no evidence to prove his existence; and, if this be given up, that he is not a moral being; neither just, sincere, good, or holy; of course that he is destitute of all amiableness, all desert of love, or veneration. To close the scheme, we are inform|ed that all religions are alike, equally estimable, equal|ly rational, equally useful: that the Religion of Car|thage, and of all other Heathen countries, which de|manded and sanctioned the butchery of human hec|atombs; the Religion of Egypt, which prostrated mil|lions of reasonable beings before a calf, a cat, a croc|odile, a duck, a frog, a rat, a leek, or an onion; the Religion of Babylon, of Paphos, and of Hindostan, which prostituted annually, as an act of solemn public worship, virgins and matrons innumerable to the casu|al lust of every traveller, or to the stated brutism of a herd of leachers, selected for the pollution; that the worship of an adulterer, a strumpet, a butcher, or a thief; is the same with the pure and spiritual wor|ship of the Infinite and Eternal Jehovah, the only Great, the only Wise, the only Good, and with the Religion, which prompts to love him with all the heart and soul, and strength, and understanding, and to love our neighbour as ourselves.

THE manner, in which Infidel Philosophy has re|garded truth, justice, and kindness to our fellow men, will be easily shewn from their own declarations also.

Mr. HOBBES asserts, that a Ruler is not bound by any obligation of truth, or justice, to his subjects, and that he can do no wrong;

That a man, believing Christ in his heart, may law|fully deny him before the magistrate;

That every Man has a right to all things, and may lawfully get them by force if he can.

Lord SHAFTSBURY, that the hope of rewards and the fear of punishments, is noxious to virtue, and takes away all motives to it (Of course, so far as civil government operates on man, it is noxious to virtue, and takes away all motives to it. Yet Mr. Hobbes makes obedience to Government, through fear, the only virtue, or right conduct.)

Mr. HUME supports the lawfulness of suicide on this, as one principal ground, that it cannot be op|posed to the will of God, because it takes place. Of course, whatever takes place is conformable to the will of God. Falshood, therefore, injustice, mur|der, revenge, tyranny, fraud, and every other crime, are conformable to the will of God, for they all take place.

Lord BOLINGBROKE teaches, that Ambition, the Lust of Power, Avarice, and Sensuality, may all be lawfully gratified, if they can be safely gratified.

VOLTAIRE requests D'Alembert to tell in his be|half a direct falshood.

D'ALEMBERT informs Voltaire, that he has told this falshood.

IN these opinions, truth, justice, and kindness, to our fellow men, are plainly destroyed, the obligation to them wholly removed, and every violation of them justified. If a man may utter falshood, where Religion, or a friend, is concerned, he may lawfully utter it on every occasion, and to every person. If all have a right to all things, none can do any wrong. If that which takes place, is right because it takes place, wrong cannot take place. If ambition, the

lust of power, avarice, and sensuality, may be law fully gatified, when they can be safely gratified, all crimes against our fellow men may be lawfully per|petrated, because all, which are called crimes of this nature, are merely gratifications of one or other of these passions.

LET us now examine the manner, in which these Philosophers have considered self-government.

Lord HERBERT declares, that men are not hasti|ly, or on small grounds, to be condemned, who sin by bodily constitution; and

That the indulgence of lust and anger is no more to be blamed, than the thirst occasioned by the dropsy, or the sleepiness produced by the Lethargy.

Mr. HOBBES, that a man may lawfully get all things if he can.

Doctor TINDAL, that every man must form for himself his rule of moral conduct, and change it as his circumstances change.

Mr. HUME, that Female Infidelity, when known, is a small thing, when unknown, nothing;

That Adultery must be practised, if we would ob|tain all the advantages of life;

That pride and self valuation are virtues;

That self-denial and humility are not virtues, but useless and mischievous; that they harden the heart, stupefy the understanding, and sour the temper.

Lord BOLINGBROKE teaches that the sole foun|dation of modesty, is a vain desire of shewing our|selves superiour to mere animals.

That Adultery, Incest, Polygamy, and lewdness of every kind and degree, except incest between the nearest relations, are warranted by the Law, or Re|ligion, which he considers as the only Religion, or Law, of mankind. &c. &c.

THESE and the preceding declarations clearly

and directly authorize the full indulgence of every passion and appetite, and annihilate the existence of crime, and the possibility of virtue. Yet all these are solemnly taught as rules of life, and as parts of the will of the Infinite God.

BUT this is not all. They have eventually taught the same things, in assertions less direct, and yet by irresistible implication supporting the same conduct. The doctrine, that a Man is an animal, or that he is a machine, is a complete subversion of morality. No man ever believed an ox, a mill, or a coach wheel, to be a moral being. The same effects are produ|ced by the light and indifferent manner, in which moral subjects are regarded in many doctrines of these Philosophers: as, when civil law is made the sole foundation of right and wrong, the magistrate the sole judge of religious truth, and the sole source of religious obligation, as by Hobbes and Shaftsbu|ry; and when health, taper legs, and broad shoulders are declared to be virtues by Hume.

IN these and other similar declarations Philoso|phers clearly prove, that they are wholly indifferent to vice and virtue, sin and holiness, and to all their amazing effects. This indifference they hold out in a thousand forms, and with respect to the great body of moral principles. No sentiment is more insinu|ating than this. None more insensibly, or surely, steals upon the heart; none more thoroughly de|praves the character; none more certainly conducts to misery and ruin.

THE same wretched consequence is fatally deri|ved from the ridicule, which they cast upon every thing religious, virtuous, or serious.

UNSATISFIED, however, with all these efforts, and convinced, that a future state of man must, if it

exist, be a state of reward to virtue, and of punish|ment to sin; that, if there be a God, he must be present to see every sin, and every virtue, and dis|posed to reward the one, and punish the other; and that, of course, there must be a judgment, and a re|compense; they have applied themselves, with an in|dustry worthy of a better cause, to overthrow the be|lief, and terminate the existence, of these truths.

THUS Mr. Hobbes declares, that that, which is not matter, is nothing.

Mr. BLOUNT, that the Soul is probably material.

Lord SHAFTSBURY, that the hope of reward, and the fear of punishment, cannot consist with virtue.

Mr. COLLINS, that the Soul is material and mortal.

Mr. CHUBB, that the arguments for the immortal|ity of the Soul are wholly unsatisfactory, and that it is probably material; and

That men will not be judged for their impiety, or ingratitude, to God; nor for their injustice, or un|kindness, to each other; but only for injuries to the public; and

That even this is uncertain, and useless;

Mr. HUME, that the Soul of man is a machine; and that it is unreasonable to believe an Intelligent cause of all things. &c.

Lord BOLINGBROKE, that God does not concern himself with the affairs of men at all; or if he does, he regards only collective bodies of men;

That he punishes none but through the magistrate; and

That the Soul is material and mortal.

And the National Convention of France,

That death is an eternal sleep.

THUS by Infidel Philosophy is every hope taken away from Virtue, and every fear from Vice, how|ever multiplied, or abandoned. This has indeed been the sum of all the purposes of this Philosophy. The belief and the hope of future rewards, and the belief

and the dread of future punishments, are the substance of all which they call superstition. To remove these from men, and especially the latter, they have studi|ed and laboured most assiduously for ages.

SHOULD they succeed to the extent of their wishes, what must be the consequences? Men will be left with all the instructions concerning the law|fulness of vice, which have been recited, and innu|merable others of the same nature, given by these, and the whole train of Philosophers; with all the proofs of the insignificance and the non-existence of virtue; with the general license to plunder, to de|fraud, to deceive, and to pollute; and with no other restraint out civil law, or private honour: Law, which cannot know one, in a hundred, of the crimes, which men commit: Honour, which even in a Christian state of society, sustained by many virtuous men, and strengthened by prevailing moral opinions auspicious to virtue and alarming to vice, will not either restrain, or regard, one crime in a thousand: Honour, which, in the state of Society thus accom|plished, amidst rulers, Philosophers, and other men of influence, thoroughly initiated in these doctrines, and amidst the universal depravity of communi|ties, would know no distinction between virtue and convenience, between crimes and disagreeables. How soon would law and government lose that au|thority and energy which are now chiefly sustained by appeals to the presence, the will, and the agency, of a Ruler all present, all powerful, and unchangea|bly and infinitely opposed to every iniquity? How soon would man, ceasing to reverence his God, cease to regard his neighbour? How soon would every moral, every natural, tie be dissolved, every motive to justice, truth, and benevolence, be lost, and every attempt to confine passion and ap|petite within any bounds be forgotten? Virtue and Vice, as objects of human esteem, would change

their places, and their characters. Pride would then be real virtue, the Lust of power real greatness, and Avarice real honour. The seat of Justice would be the nest of plunder and robbery, and the edifices of learning cells of studied iniquity, where methodized fin would be the science, and sagacious perpetration the art. The private dwelling would be converted into a brothel, and the venerable matron and the snowy virgin would change characters with the bawd and the strumpet; and the purity, the happiness, and the hopes, of mankind, would be buried under a promiscuous and universal concubinage.

WERE Philosophy less exceptionable in its doc|trines, and less favourably inclined to vice, still, in its attempts to restrain vice, and encourage virtue, it would be totally weak and inefficacious. Every Individual Philosopher utters many errors with the same breath and in the same discourse, in which he utters also some truths. Every individual contra|dicts, ridicules, and calumniates, every other indi|vidual; and every sect every other sect. Thus truth and falshood come from the same mouth with equal gravity and force; and the contrary systems of the combatants, are on the one hand, derived from sources equally respectable, and, on the other, are equally the objects of obloquy and derision, mutu|ally and successfully employed. As teachers, they have no authority, possess no power, can employ no sanction, and promise no reward. The only sup|port of their systems is argument; often so abstruse, as to be understood imperfectly by themselves, and not at all by most men; often so weak and futile, as to produce no effect, beside contempt and ridicule; often so opposed by contrary arguments, as to be left without force, or influence; and always so un|interesting as to be neither read, nor regarded, by the body of mankind. This support their example ef|fectually destroys: for no man will believe, that the

Philosophy, which when heartily embraced does not render its author better, but leaves him worse, than multitudes of those, who are without it, can be ei|ther useful or true.

THE single phrase—Thus saith the Lord,—comes home to every serious man, with a force infinitely greater than that of all which Philosophers have ever said, or will ever say. The Teacher, here, can neither be deceived, nor deceive. His authority to enjoin, his knowledge to discern, his disposition and his power to reward obedience is immutable and boundless. Here something is presented to the mind, of sufficient importance to arrest its attention, to rouse its hopes, and to command its efforts. To disobedience the same attributes present a combination of motives, efficacious to alarm, and to deter. In the full view of these attributes, sin is perpetrated only with a trembling hand, and an aching heart.

BUT in spite of all the efforts, which Philosophy can make to dissuade men from vice, the single hu|man conclusion will ever be, "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die." Some of the ancients, at times, made efforts of this nature; but they were sickly in their origin, and momentary in their ope|rations; without energy, and without effect; an amusement to the fancy, but not a melioration of the heart. The modern Philosophy, uninterested in the subject, or discouraged by the attempts of its predecessors, has joined in the general cry, and de|termined to encourage and sanction this limited pur|suit of good. Its doctrines, its arguments, its ex|amples, have licensed and defended guilty pleasure, pleasure confined to the present life, the pleasure of sinners, the pleasure of animals. Before its pestilen|tial breath, as man before the Simoom of Nubia, truth, virtue, and happiness, have sickened, fal|len, and died; while vice, like the fabled Upaz of

Java, has in the same rank atmosphere vigorously diffused its branches, shot up its infant stems, and corrupted and destroyed, around it, whatever had the principles or the promise of life.

3. INFIDEL Philosophy has not hitherto been able to support itself, nor to make any serious im|pression on the evidence of the Divine Origin of Scriptures.

THE great proofs of the divine origin of the Scrip|tures have not, I apprehend, been at all seriously af|fected by the attacks of Infidels. The Necessity of admitting the History of the Scriptures, and the ne|cessity of admitting the Revelation of the Scriptures, arising from the admission of the Scriptural History; The Arguments from Prophecy; from Miracles; from the Character of Christ; from the Origination of the New-Testament by uneducated men; from the Character and Conduct of the Apostles; from the erection and progress of Christianity; from the Authenticity and Genuineness of the Scriptures; from their pure, harmonious, and sublime Character; and from the present state of the Jews; have in no instance been solidly answered.

THERE is not, so far as I have been informed, any answer of any Infidel to a capital argument in sup|port of Revelation, which has gained so great ap|plause, or received, for the time, so general and con|fident reliance from Philosophers, as Mr. Hume's celebrated Essay on Miracles. In the Introduction to it, Mr. Hume says—"He flatters himself, he has discovered an argument, which will prove an everlast|ing check to all kinds of superstitious delusion." But since the Essays on the same subject by Adams, Camp|bell, Farmar and Price, have been published, and read, the applause and the reliance appear to be in a great measure withdrawn. I have been informed,

that Mr. Hume himself considered Doctor Camp|bell's Answer to him as conclusive against him. If this most ingenious performance of the ablest Infi|del, by far the ablest, who has hitherto appeared, has been so impotent to its purpose, the sufficiency of the rest may be easily determined.

THERE is, also, another argument, drawn from the comparative character of Christians, and Infidels, which may be alleged with a force, incapable of be|ing obviated. The weight of virtue has been whol|ly on the side of Christianity. All moral truth is fairly tried by its influence on mankind. Nothing can be more properly or more forcibly contrasted, than the tendency of the doctrines of the Scriptures, and the tendency of Infidel Philosophy; and nothing can more strongly illustrate this contrast, than the opposite lives of Christians and Infidels. The life of St. Paul, alone, puts all Infidelity out of counte|nance. The early Christians, in general, even as represented by many of their most respectable ene|mies, have no parallels in the annals of Infidelity. From the infancy of the Christian church to the pre|sent time, in all periods some, and in most periods many, Christians have worne the same character. In our own land, and in every neighbourhood, may be found daily those, who adorn the human name with all the virtues, which Infidels have at any time pro|fessed, and with many of a superiour kind, to which they have never formed a pretension. So evident is the want of morals on the part of Infidels, in this country, generally, that to say—"A man is an Infi|del"—is understood, course, as a declaration, that he is a plainly immoral man. On the contrary, to say—"A man is a true or real Christian"—is univer|sally understood as a declaration, that he is a man distinguishedly virtuous. This phraseology has its origin in the experience, and common-sense, of man|kind, and may be fairly assumed as complete evi|dence of the sentiment alleged.

THAT this Philosophy is unable to support itself, is evident from its progress. Philosophers, as has been remarked, have, from the beginning, changed continually the Infidel system. The doctrines, which Herbert and Tindal declared to be so evident, that God could not make them more evident, were whol|ly given up, as untenable, by Hume; and the Scep|ticism of Hume sustained no higher character in the mind of D'Alembert. Mere Infidelity gave up Na|tural Religion, and Atheism mere Infidelity. Athe|ism is the system, at present in vogue. What will succeed it cannot be foreseen. One consolation, however, attends the subject; and that is—No other system can be so groundless, so despicable, or so completely ruinous to the morals and happiness of mankind.

THE conduct of Philosophers in opposing their antagonists, and in supporting themselves, has been alike, and has alike evinced the weakness of their cause, in both respects. Each effort has had, as was to be expected, its day of applause and adoption, and has then given up its place, and importance, to a succeeding effort. Succeeding Philosophers, instead of relying on the arguments, or systems, of their pre|decessors, have laboriously devised new ones. Each relies apparently, and perhaps firmly, upon his own; but is of course forsaken by those, who come after him. The weight, which they have had, for a time, has been therefore casual; the weight of novelty, fa|shion, and currency, and the result of ingenuity and celebrity; not the weight of truth and evidence, nor the result of serious and permanent conviction. Were succeeding Philosophers satisfied with either the opposition, or the doctrines of their predecessors, they would of course have insisted anew on their ar|guments, and systems; explained more fully the parts and nature of each, and obviated the answers of their adversaries. Convinced of the truth and

rectitude of what had been done before, they would have felt themselves bound to exert themselves in its defence. Natural Religion, or Theism, would now have been the great reliance of Infidels, and all their arguments would have been directed to its support. The Atheists feel, at the present time, a triumphant confidence in the permanency of their system; the Theists, a few years since, felt equally satisfied of the continuance of theirs. This confidence in both was equally well founded. There is now all the proba|bility, that those, who are to come, will desert Athe|ism, which there was a little while since, that the pre|sent system would desert Theism. Yet now the French Committee of Public Instruction declare, that a people of Theists will necessarily become Re|velationists.

THE insolence and ridicule, exhibited universally by Infidel Writers, is at least to my view, a strong indication of the consciousness of the weakness of their cause, and of the insufficiency of their argu|ments. Men who feel their cause to be good, and their means of support to be strong, usually discover moderation and decency in the management. A strong man is usually mild, and civil; a weak one, to conceal his weakness, is often petulant and blus|tering. Were Infidels satisfied of the goodness of their cause, and the soundness of their arguments, they would not, it is presumed, so often resort to ri|dicule instead of reasoning, nor intrench themselves behind insolence and contempt, instead of facts and evidence. In any other case, this conduct would be deemed a proof of weakness in the cause, and of doubt in its advocates.

AS the great arguments in support of Christianity remain in full force, it is rationally concluded, that they will ever so remain. Infidel Philosophers, in great numbers, of the utmost enmity to the Christian

cause, of eminent industry, and of as considerable in|genuity as will probably be found hereafter, have al|ready exhausted their strength in their attacks on Revelation. As they have hitherto failed of success, it is fairly presumed, that they will finally fail. Al|most all the topics of opposition have been tho|roughly explored, and the most effectual use made of them, which is practicable. Hence they will pro|bably gain little additional strength on the side of ar|gument. More influence, and more converts, they may not improbably gain. The present time is sup|posed to be marked in Prophecy, as an eminent sea|son of delusion; and the delusion has not, hitherto, reached the bounds predicted. But to gain these is a very different thing from acquiring additional strength from reason and evidence.

TO a serious and candid man the fact, above re|cited, must appear of high importance. He cannot but see, that Christianity has been attacked by a nu|merous host of enemies, ardent, industrious, and in|genious, through a long period, with unremitted ef|forts, and on every side, No measure has been left untried, no means of success unexplored, and no kind of hostility scrupled. Its strength has therefore been proved. Such a man will feel of course, that Christianity must resist successfully every future as|sault, and that it will be early enough to doubt of its firmness, when its pillars shall begin to be shaken, and its foundation to be undermined.

4. PHILOSOPHY will not, and Christianity will, increase your comfort, and lessen your distresses here, and save you from misery, and confer on you happi|ness, hereafter.

FROM the observations already made, you must have clearly perceived, that Philosophy furnishes you with no directory to regulate your moral con|duct,

no scheme of the duties of life. As pure Theism, or Natural Religion, it teaches not a duty, which is not unspeakably better taught by the Scrip|tures; while it is wholly ignorant of very many, which, when taught, are seen to be of the highest im|portance. It knows not, it cannot know, what ser|vice, what worship, is acceptable to God, or whether any can be accepted. It sees all men to be sinners, and yet knows not, that sinners can be forgiven, or reinstated in the character and condition of faithful subjects of the government of God. If this be pos|sible, it knows not how, when, or where. Of sanc|tions to enforce, and motives to encourage obedi|ence, it is destitute and beggared. To the peace, which springs from the conscious performance of du|ty it is a stranger; and in the joy, which flows from hopeful acceptance with God, it shares, not even as a guest. Under these disadvantages, you will not wonder, that it lingers and languishes in its course, and halts at a distance from the gate of virtue.

AS mere Infidelity, it teaches nothing but to con|test all principles, and to adopt none. As Scepti|cism, it is an ocean of doubt and agitation, in which there are no soundings, and to which there is no shore. As Animalism and Atheism it completes the ravage and ruin of man, which, in its preceding forms, it had so successfully begun. It now holds out the rank Circoean draught, and sends the deluded wretch|es, who are allured to taste, to bristle and wallow with the swine, to play tricks with the monkey, to rage and rend with the tiger, and to purify into nothing with the herd of kindred brutes.

CHRISTIANITY, with an influence infinitely more benevolent, enhances the value of your present life beyond the search of calculation. It informs you, that you are the intelligent and moral creatures of

the All-perfect JEHOVAH, who made, who preserves, who rules the Universe, who is present in all places, who beholds all things; who is eternal and immu|table; infinitely benevolent, infinitely beneficent; the faithful friend of the virtuous; the unchanging enemy of sin; the rewarder, and the reward, of all returning sinners, who diligently seek him. In this character it presents to you a direct, clear, and per|fect system of rules for all your moral conduct; rules of thinking, speaking, and acting; rules, reaching every possible case, and removing every rational doubt. Here is no uncertainty, no wavering, no tossing on the billows of anxiety, no plunging into the gulph of despair. Your path is a straight and beat|en way, and, were you way faring men, and fools, you need not err therein.

AS you pass through the various stages of your journey, you are furnished with aids and motives in|finite, to check your delays, to recall your wander|ings, to cheer fatigue, to refresh your languor, to les|sen your difficulties, to renew your strength, and to prolong your perseverance to the end. Should you at any time, through ignorance, inattention, or al|lurement, dangerously diverge from your course, a sweet and charming Voice behind you cries "This is the way, walk ye therein."

IN the sublime character of moral subjects of the All-ruling God, you are called to a life of obedience and virtue. Sinners, indeed, you are: and as such, in the eye of Natural Religion are condemned and lost; but in the Scriptures you are taught, that most delightful of all truths, that you may rise again to the character, and the blessing, of those, who have never fallen; and may thus rise upon conditions, which, if guided by wisdom, you would yourselves have chosen, as the most easy, the most reasonable, the most desirable, of all conditions; upon conditions

which are distinguished blessings in themselves, and the beginning of blessings, which will multiply fore|ver. A scheme of duty is proposed to you, and re|quired of you; but every part of it is at once useful and delightful. From the performance of it will daily and infallibly spring the peace of an approving mind, the dignity of conscious virtue, the retreat of gloo|my apprehension, and the dawn of radiant hope, the day-star of endless life.

SHOULD you hereafter have families, your com|munication of the principles, and your practice of the duties, of Christianity will beyond all things else, in|sure to you domestic peace and prosperity. Your housholds will assume the same dignified character, and share in the same requisite enjoyments. All will love, esteem, and befriend, and be loved, es|teemed, and befriended. Your interests, designs, and pursuits, will be noble and virtuous, the parents of concord and happiness. To the ties of natural af|fection will be superadded the benevolence, and the brotherly love, of the Gospel; and these will animate, refine, and exalt every affection, and every purpose, will bring daily consolation and enduring joy, and will prove the delightful forerunners of future beati|tude.

THE Friends, who visit you, will esteem and love you, for they will find in your character something to be esteemed and loved. They will also be friends, of the best character, will most cordially return your kind offices, and will most richly merit and lasting|ly retain your confidence. They will be friends here, and friends forever.

TO the Neighbourhoods around you you will be, and will be esteemed, benefactors and blessings. The poor, the sick, the outcast, the friendless, and the disconsolate, will especially, acknowledge you as

their patrons, Enemies you will find; for the per|formance of your duty will oppose lust, and restrain corruption but they will be such enemies, as, with|out a total change of their character, a good man would not wish to be his friend. Every vicious man will feel his inferiority to you with pain, and expe|rience deep mortification in knowing, that he cannot look you in the face with a composed countenance, and steady eye. Compare your friends with your enemies, and you will find nothing to be regretted.

NOR will you be less useful to your Country. Ra|tional Freedom cannot be preserved without the aid of Christianity. Not a proof is found in the experi|ence, not a probability is presented to the judgment, of man, that Infidelity can support a free, and at the same time an efficient, government. In this coun|try, the freest, and the happiest, which the world has hitherto seen, the whole system of policy originated, has continued, and stands, on the single basis of Christianity. Good subjects have been formed here by forming good men; and none but good subjects can long be governed by persuasion. The learning, peace, mild intercourse, and universally happy state of society, enjoyed here, all own the same origin. Would you preserve these blessings during your own lives, would you hand them down to posterity, in|creasing multitudes of those who are not Christians, and all those who are, with one voice tell you "Em|brace Christianity."

IT is by no means my intention, or my wish, to flatter you with hopes of unmingled happiness on this side of the grave. This world has ever been and still is, a vale of tears. Want, pain, sorrow, disease, and death, are constant tenants of this unhappy soil, and frequent inmates of every human dwelling. To aid the sufferer to sustain, and to vanquish, these unfriendly visitors, Christianity furnishes the peace,

the patience, and the fortitude of virtue, the con|sciousness of forgiven sin, and Infinite complacency, and the supporting hope of endless and evergrowing sanctity, happiness, and glory. In every throbbing bosom she sings "This light affliction, which is but for a moment, is not worthy to be compared with the glory, that shall be revealed hereafter". The song is the song of Angels; the voice is the voice of God.

ALL these alleviations are, at a stroke, swept away by the besom of Philosophy. Like a rude, unfeel|ing nurse, she approaches the bed of pain and sick|ness, and tells the groaning sufferer, that he is indeed miserable; and that he may quietly resolve to bear his calamities, for they are irremediable and hopeless. To the despairing victims of want, infamy, and op|pression, she extends her hand, empty of comfort, and passes by on the other side. The Parent, over|whelmed by woe for the loss of his only son, she cool|ly informs, that his tears and his sighs are useless, for his favourite has ceased from the light of the living, and vanished forever. To the failing eye of the poor, desponding, and expiring wretch she holds out her dark lantern, and as the only consolation which she can give, shews him the sullen region of annihi|lation, destined to receive and wrap him in eternal and ablivious night.

YOU, with the rest of men, must suffer woe. Pov|erty may betide, shame may arrest, pain may ago|nize, sorrow may sink, disease may waste, and death will befal you. In all these evils you will seek for consolation, support, and hope. From Philosophy you will find none. On that solemn day, which is fast approaching, when you will be extended upon the bed of death, when the physician has bidden you adieu, and your friends are watching for the parting gasp, your souls will cling to existence, will pant for relief, and will search the Universe for a glimmering

of hope. Should Philosophy have been your bosom companion, and the arm on which you have finally rested, you will then know what it is to have renoun|ced Religion, to look back on a life of sin with ago|ny, and forward to a world of suspense with horror. Christianity, sighing her last farewell, and dropping her parting tear, will retire in silence and sorrow, and will mourn with deep compassion, that, forlorn and dreadful as was your lot, you would not suffer her to allay your misery, and with the lamp of hope light you through your melancholy path into the world of future being.

Religion, on the contrary, feels, and proves, a re|gard for the sorrows of man, infinitely more tender, soothing, and supporting. Like the fabled power of Enchantment, she changes the thorny couch into a bed of down, closes with a touch the wounds of the soul, and converts a wilderness of woe into the bor|ders of Paradise. Whenever you are forced to drink the cup of bitterness, Mercy, at her call, will stand by your side, and mingle sweetness with the draught; while with a voice of mildness and consolation she will whisper to you, that the potion, though unplea|sant, is necessary and balsamic; that you have diseas|es to be removed, and morbid principles to be ex|terminated; and that the unpalatable administration will assuredly establish in you health immortal. The same sweetener of life will accompany you to the end, and, seating herself by your dying bed, will draw aside the curtains of eternity, will bid you lift your closing eyes on the end of sorrow, pain, and care, and in the opened gates of peace and glory will point to you, in full view, the friends of Christ, waiting to hail your arrival.

THAT Christianity gives all these blessings, and gives them certainly; that it produces no loss, and great gain, in the present world; that it makes noth|ing

worse, and every thing better, is clearly evident from the nature of the Christian system. The doc|trines, precepts, and promises, contain and secure all this, and much more. At the same time, every Christian is a witness to this truth. Every Christian has, by experience, known the pleasures of sin, and, by the same experience also, has known the plea|sures of religion. To whatever degree, therefore, his experience has extended, he is a complete judge of both. Many, very many Christians have also ful|ly enjoyed the highest pleasures of science and intel|lect, and are of course unexceptionable judges of these pleasures. But no Christian was ever found, who for a moment admitted, that any pleasures were to be compared with those of religion; not one, who would not say, that for the loss of religion worlds would be a poor compensation. In every other case this evidence would be acknowledged as complete. Nor is it balanced, or lessened, by any contrary evi|dence. Infidels have never tasted the pleasures of religion, and, in the decision of this question, are, therefore, without a voice.

WITH these blessings in view, you will, I trust without a sigh, leave to the Infidel his peculiar grati|fications. In every innocent enjoyment you can partake at least as largely as he. You will not, therefore, repine, that you cannot shine, at a horse|race, but at a cockpit, win at a gaming-table, riot at the board of intemperance, drink deep at the mid|night debauch, or steal to infamous enjoyments at the brothel.

BUT the most important consideration is yet to be suggested; a consideration infinitely awful and glori|ous. There may be an Hereafter. There may be a future Judgment, a future Retribution. The course of Sin, begun here, may continue forever. The seed of virtue, sown in the present world, and

raised to a young and feeble stem, may be destined to growth immortal. The misery, produced here by Sin, may be unceasingly generated by the same wretched cause, through ages which cannot end. The peace and joy, which virtue creates, during this transient life, the same illustrious power may expand, and prolong, through an ever-enlarging progress.

WHAT the natural eye thus sees with dim and pro|bable vision, Christianity, possessed of superiour op|tics, discerns, and promises, with clear, prophetic certainty. Endless death and endless life are writ|ten in full and glowing characters in the book, sealed to unenlightened and unassisted man with seven seals. That book a hand infinite and supreme un|rolls to every humble, penitent, believing mind, and discloses to the enraptured view the page of eternity, on which things divine and immortal are pencilled with sun-beams. A residence finished with infinite workmanship, employments pure and ravishing, a character completely dignified and lovely, compan|ions the first and best in the universe, a system of Providence, composed wholly of good, refining, as|cending, and brightening forever, and a God seen, known, and enjoyed, in all his combined perfection, are there drawn in colours of light and life.

In the same volume is disclosed by the same hand the immense woe, destined to reward the per|petration of iniquity, voluntary blindness, and im|movable impenitence. Allured and charmed by su|preme endearments, on the one hand, the mind is, on the other, equally awakened and alarmed. Good and evil passing conception, passing limits, are offer|ed to the choice; and by that choice alone the good may be secured, and evil avoided, forever.

WITH respect to these amazing things, Philosophy knows nothing, threatens nothing, promises nothing.

To Philosophy the invisible world is an unknown vast, over which, like the raven sent out of the ark, she wanders with a wearied wing, seeking rest, and finding none. To her exploring eye, the universe is one immense, unfathomable ocean. Above, a|round, beneath, all is doubt, anxiety, and despair. Her accounts are, like her views, uncertain and con|jectural only, the foundations of no assent, no satis|faction. If you adhere to them, you cannot lose, and you may infinitely gain. An infinite difference of possible good and evil, therefore, demands your adoption of Christianity. I need not place the sub|ject on higher ground. To every thinking man there is, here, a motive infinite to embrace Christi|anity, and reject Infidel Philosophy.

If there is a God (and that there is, is more cer|tain, and evident, than that there is any being beside one's self) he is doubtless perfect in holiness, as well as in power and knowledge. With holy or virtuous creatures he must of course be pleased: because ho|liness is obedience to his will, and because it is a re|semblance to his character. As he must be pleased with his own character, so be must be pleased with his creatures, whenever they possess a character simi|lar to his own. That he should not be pleased to have his will obeyed is impossible. The very suppo|sition, that the Ruler has a will, involves in it neces|sarily, that he must be pleased to be obeyed. All the doctrines of Revelation, all the precepts, are summed up in this memorable sentence, "Be ye ho|ly, as I the Lord your God am holy." To accom|plish holiness, or virtue, in man is the single end of the Christian system. Christianity therefore teaches, enjoins, and with infinite motives pursues, what rea|son dictates as the highest wisdom of man. But, in all this, Infidel Philosophy has no part, nor lot, nor memorial.

THUS, in every view, the state and the prospects of the Christian are full of comfort, peace, and hope, of medicines for grief, and seasonings for joy. The present state of the Infidel is destitute of both, and prospects he has none. Here, the religion of the Christian brings with it, in hand, worth, usefulness, and dignity; and hereafter, in bright reversion, and through an interminable progress, life, wisdom, vir|tue, happiness, and glory. Philosophy, on the con|trary, adds to him, here, no enjoyment, and robs him of the chief support of suffering; and, beyond the grave, plunders him of heaven, and consigns him to annihilation and despair. * 1.2

Notes

• * 1.1

  To young men inclining to Infidelity I beg leave to recom|mend a careful, and serious consideration, of two passages of Scrip|ture; one, Heb, vi. 4—8, the other, Heb. x. 26—31.
• * 1.2

  Since these discourse were sent to the press, I have seen a Work lately published in Great Britain, and republished in America, writ|ten by J. Robison, Professor of Natural Philosophy in the Universi|ty of Edinburgh, and Secretary of the Royal Society in that city, and entituled A Conspiracy against all the Governments and Religi|ons in Europe. In this work the reader may see the dangers of In|fidel Philosophy set in the strongest light possible. He may see a plan formed, and to an alarming degree executed, for exterminating Christianity, Natural Religion, the belief of a God, of the immortal|ity of the Soul, and Moral obligation; for rooting out of the world civil and domestic government, the right of property, marriage, na|tural affection, chastity, and decency; and in a word for destroying whatever is virtuous, refined or desirable, and introducing again uni|versal savageness and brutism. All this is to be done under the pretence of enlarged Philanthropy, and of giving mankind liberty and equality. By this mask is carefully concealed the true end, which is no less than to reduce the whole human race under a com|plete subjugation to these Philosophers; a subjugation of mind as well as of body.