impose on the world; or, which is the most favourable supposition, it is a transient impression of seriousness, an accidental melting of the heart, which passes away like the morning cloud and the early dew; or, which I am afraid is too often the case, it is the deliberate refuge of a deluded and superstitious, but at the same time a corrupted mind. For all men, even the most depraved, are subject, more or less, to compunctions of conscience. It has never been in their power to withdraw totally beyond the reach of that warning voice, which tells them that something is necessary to be done, in order to make their peace with the Ruler of the world. But, backward at the same time to resign the gains of dishonesty, or the pleasures of vice; averse from submission to that sacred law, which enjoins righteousness in its whole extent, they have often attempted to make a sort of composition with Heaven; a composition which, though they dare not avow it in words, lurks in secret at the bottom of many a heart. If God will only dispense with some articles of obedience, they will repay him with abundant homage. If they fail in good practice, they will study to be sound in belief; and by the number of their prayers, will atone, in some measure, for their deficiency in charitable deeds.

But the attempt is as vain as it is impious. From the simplest and plainest principles of reason it must appear, that religious worship, disjoined from justice and virtue, can upon no account whatever find acceptance with the Supreme Being. To what purpose is the multitude of your sacrifices unto me? saith the Lord. Bring no more vain oblations. Incense is an abomination unto me. The new moons and sabbaths,

the calling of assemblies, I cannot away with; it is iniquity even the solemn meetings.*- Cease, foolish and impious man! cease to consider the Almighty as a weak or vain-glorious being, who is to be appeased by thy devout prostrations, and thy humble words; or to be gratified by the parade and ostentation of external worship. What is all thy worship to him? Will he eat the flesh of thy sacrifices, or drink the blood of offered goats? Was worship required of thee, dost thou think, upon his account that thou mightest bring an increase to his glory and felicity by thy weak and insignificant praises? Sooner mightest thou increase the splendour of the sun by a lighted taper, or add to the thunder by thy voice. No: It is for the sake of man, not of God, that worship and prayers are required; not that God may be rendered more glorious, but that man may be made better; that he may be confirmed in a proper sense of his dependent state, and acquire those pious and virtuous dispositions in which his highest improve

ment consists.

Of all the principles in religion, one should take this to be the most evident; and yet frequent admonitions are needed, to renew the impression of it upon mankind. For what purpose did thy Creator place thee in this world, in the midst of human society, but that as a man among men thou mightest cultivate humanity; that each in his place might contribute to the general welfare: that as a spouse, a brother, a son, or a friend, thou mightest act thy part with an upright and a tender heart; and thus aspire to resemble him who ever consults the good of his

creatures, and whose tender mercies are over all his works? And darest thou, who hast been sacrificing unsuspicious innocence to thy loose pleasures; thou, who hast been disturbing the repose of society by thine ambition or craft; thou who, to increase thy treasures, hast been making the widow and the orphan weep; darest thou approach God with thy worship and thy prayers, and entertain the hope that he will look down upon thee in peace? Will the God of order and justice accept such poor compensation for his violated laws? Will the God of love regard the services of one who is an enemy to his creatures? Shall a corrupter of the society of men aspire to the habitations of pure and blessed spirits ? — Believe it, He that saith he loveth God, must love his brother also. Cease to do evil, learn to do well. Seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the widow! And then, Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to thee; call upon him in the day of trouble, and he will answer thee. Thy prayers and thine alms shall then ascend in joint memorial before the Most High.

I HAVE now shown the evil of maiming and splitting religion; of dividing asunder two things, which though in theory they may be separated, yet in practice must always co-exist, if either of them be real; Devotion to God, and Charity to men. Let us consider next the happy effects of their union.

Their union forms the consistent, the graceful, the respectable character of the real Christian, the man of true worth. If you leave either of them out of your system, even though you excel in the other, you can stand trial only in one point of view. It is

only on one side your character is fair; on the other, it will always be open to much reproach. And as you dishonour yourselves, so you do great injustice to religion. For, by dividing its parts from one another, you never fail to expose it to the censure of the world: And perhaps, by this sort of partial and divided goodness, religion has suffered more in the esteem of mankind, than by open profligacy. The unbeliever will scoff at your piety, when he sees you negligent of moral duties. The bigot will decry all morality, when he sees you pretending to be a follower of virtue, though you be a despiser of God. Whereas, he who fears God, and is at the same time just and beneficent to men, exhibits religion to the world with full propriety. It shines in his conduct with its native splendour; and its rays throw a glory round him. His character is above reproach. It is at once amiable and venerable. Malice itself is afraid to attack him; and even the worst men respect and honour him in their hearts.

This too is the man whose life will be most peaceful and happy. He who fails materially either in piety or in virtue, is always obnoxious to the anguish of remorse. His partial goodness may flatter him in the day of superficial observation; but when solitude or distress awakens the powers of reflection, he shall be made to feel that one part of duty performed, atones not for another which is neglected. In the midst of his prayers, the remembrance of injustice will upbraid him with hypocrisy; and in the distribution of his alms, the prayers which the poor put up for him, will make him blush for his neglect of God. Conscience will supply the place of the hand

coming forth to write over against him on the wall, Thou art weighed in the balance, and art found wanting.* Whereas he who holds both faith and a good conscience, who attends equally to the discharge of his duty towards God and towards man, enjoys, as far as human imperfection allows, the sense of fairness and consistency in conduct, of integrity and soundness of heart.

The man of mere morality is a stranger to all the delicate and refined pleasures of devotion. In works of beneficence and mercy, he may enjoy satisfaction. But his satisfaction is destitute of that glow of affection, which enlivens the feelings of one who lifts his heart at the same time to the Father of the Universe, and considers himself as imitating God. The man again who rests solely in devotion, if that devotion open not his heart to humanity, not only remains a stranger to the pleasures of beneficence, but must often undergo the pain arising from bad passions. But when beneficence and devotion are united, they pour upon the man in whom they meet, the full pleasures of a good and pure heart. His alms connected him with men, his prayers with God. He looks without dismay on both worlds. All nature has to him a benign aspect. If engaged in active life, he is the friend of men; and he is happy in the exertions of that friendship. If left in retirement, he walks among the works of nature as with God. Every object is enlivened to him by the sense of the Divine presence. Every where he traces the beneficent hand of the Author of nature; and every where, with glowing heart, he hears and answers his

* Dan. v. 27.