ignorant of the nature of God, as he has been pleased to reveal himself in the scripture, than of the character of man, to whose dispositions, wants, desires, distresses, infirmities, and sins, the spirit of Christianity, as unfolded in the gospel, is so wonderfully accommodated. This admirable congruity would be of itself sufficient, were there no other proof, ta establish the divine authority of our religion. Private prayer, public worship, the observation of the Sabbath, a standing ministry, sacramental ordinances, are all of them so admirably adapted to those sublimely mysterious cravings of the mind, which distinguish man from all inferior animals, by rendering him the subject of hopes and fears, which nothing earthly can realise or satisfy, that it is difficult to say, whether these sacred institutions most bespeak the wisdom or the goodness of that supreme Benefactor, who alone could have thus applied a remedy, because he alone could have penetrated the most hidden recesses of that nature which required it. Religion, in fact, is not more essential to man, than, in the present state of things, those appointments are essential to religion. And, accordingly, we see that when they are rejected, however its unprofitable generalities may be professed, religion itself, practically, and in detail, is renounced. Nor can it be kept alive in creatures so abounding in moral, and so exposed to natural evil, by mere metaphysical distinctions, or a bare intellectual conception of divinity. In beings whose minds are so liable to wander, religion, to be sustained, requires to be substantiated and fixed, to be realised and invigorated. Conscious of our own infirmity, we ought to look for every outward aid to improve every internal grace; and, consequently, ought gladly to submit to the control of habits, and the regularity of institutions. Even in the common pursuits of life, our fugitive and unsteady thoughts require to be tied down by exercises, duties, and external circumstances. And while the same expedients are no less necessary to insure the outward observances of religion, instead of obstructing, they promote its spirituality; for they are not more fitted to attract the senses of the ignorant, than they are to engage the thoughts, and fix the attention, of the enlightened. While, therefore, in order to get rid of imaginary burdens and suspected penalties, men are contending for a philosophical religion and an imaginary perfection, of which the mind, while incorporated with matter, is little capable, they lose the benefit of those salutary means and instruments, so admirably adapted to the state of our minds, and the constitution of our nature; means and instruments, which, on a sober inquiry into their origin, will be found as awfully sanctioned, as they are obviously suitable; in a word, which will be found (and this, when proved, puts an end to the controversy) to be the appointments of God himself.

The Almighty has most certainly declared, that he will be worshipped in spirit and in truth: but, does it therefore follow, that he will not be worshipped in churches? We know that all our days are his, and for the use of all we are accountable to him: but, does this invalidate the duty of making Sunday more peculiarly his? We are commanded to "pray without ceasing; in everything to give thanks;" that is, to carry about with us a heart disposed to pray, and a spirit inclined to thankfulness : but, is this any argument against our enjoining on ourselves certain stated times of more regular prayer, and fixed periods of more express thanks

giving? Is it not obvious, that the neglect of the religious observance of Sunday, for example, results, in fact, from an irreligious state of the heart, however gravely philosophic reasons for the omission may be assigned? Is it not obvious also, that the very recurrence of appointed seasons serves to stir us up to the performance of the duties allotted to them? The philosopher may deride this as a mechanical religion, which requires to have its springs wound up, and stands in need of external impulses to set it a-going. But the Christian feels, that though he is neither to regulate his devotions by his crucifix, nor to calculate them by his beads, yet, while his intellectual part is encumbered with a body, liable to be misled by temptation without, and impeded by corruption within, he stands in need of every supplemental aid, to remind, to restrain, and to support him. These, therefore, are not helps which superstition has devised, or fallible man invented. Infinite Wisdom, doubtless, foreseeing that what was left dependent on the choice of mutable will to be observed, would probably not be observed at all, did not leave such a duty to such a contingency, but established these institutions as part of his written word; the lawgiver himself also sanctioning the law by his own practice.

It would be well if these men of large views and philosophical conceptions, would consider, if there be nothing in the very structure of the human mind, we had almost said, in the very constitution of nature, which might lead us to expect, that religion would have those grosser and more substantial parts and relations, which we have represented; instead of being that entirely thin and spiritual essence, of which they vainly dream. It was reserved for a philosopher of our own nation to show, that the richest possessions of the most capacious mind are only the well-arranged and variegated ideas which originally entered in through the medium of the senses, or which we derive from contemplating the operations of our own minds, when employed on those ideas of sensation. But, if material bodies are the sources from whence general knowledge is derived, why is everything to be incorporeal which respects religion? If innate ideas have no existence in the human mind, why are our religious notions not to be derived from external objects?

Plato, the purest of heathen philosophers, and the nearest to those who derived their light from heaven, failed most essentially in reducing his theory to practice. He seems to have supposed, that we possess certain ready-framed notions of everything essential to moral happiness; and that contemplation of the chief good, and subjugation of animal nature, were all that was necessary to moral perfection. Is it not then most worthy of attention, that the holy Scripture differs from the plan of the Grecian sage, just where he himself differs from truth and nature, as developed by their most accurate observer, the sagacious and venerated Locke? Man, according to this profound reasoner, derives the original stock of his ideas from objects placed in his view, which strike upon his senses. Revelation, as if on this very principle, presents to man impressive objects. From the creation to the deluge, and still more from the call of Abraham, when we may say that our religion commences, to the giving of the Holy Ghost, after our Saviour's ascension, the period in which we may deem its character completed, we are instructed, in a great measure, by a series of facts. - In the earlier period, especially, we do not meet with theoretic descrip

tions of the Divine nature, but we see the eternal God himself, as with our mind's eye, visibly manifesting himself to the patriarchs, exemplifying his attributes to their senses, and, by interpositions, the most impressive, both in a way of judgment and of mercy, training them to apprehend him, in the mode of all others the most accommodated to the weakness of human nature.

Thus we see a religion, in some degree, a matter-of-fact religion, growing gradually to its completion; until "He, who, at sundry times and in divers manners, had spoken to the fathers by the prophets, spoke in these last days by his Son."

And, thus we observe the first preachers of Christianity, not philosophizing on abstract truths, but plainly bearing witness to what had been transacted in their presence.- "The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us; and we behield his glory, the glory as of the only-begotten of the Father." And again,—“That which we have seen and heard, declare we unto you."

This, then, is the particular characteristic of Christianity, that from its origin to its final consummation, it considers man critically as he is; and that is, not as he was deemed by the most enlightened sages of earlier times, but as he has been discovered to be, by one of the most penetrating minds in the world, seventeen hundred years after the Christian æra. To this, now universally acknowledged notion of man, everything is adapted, both in what is recorded and what is enjoined in the Scripture. Every observance relates to facts, and is fitted to impress them. To strip Christianity, therefore, of any of the observances, which are really of scriptural appointment, would be to sublimate it into philosophical inefficacy. In common life we see the affections little engaged in abstract speculation. They then only are moved when those sensible images, which the laws of nature have made moving, are aptly presented to them.

What, for example, could all the mathematical truth in the world do, in exciting our affections, compared with a tale of human misery, or human magnanimity, even though known to be fabricated for our amusement? When Christianity then is so obviously, in a great measure, a business of the affections, that we are then only under its influence, when we love and delight in, as well as assent to, or reason upon its principles ;-shall we cavil at that religion which alone accomplishes its end, on account of those very features of it, which, on every ground of philosophy, and by every proof of efficacy, were the fact to be candidly investigated, render it such as it must be, in order to answer its purpose?

There cannot be a more conclusive internal evidence of our holy religion than this, that in every principle which it establishes, in every lesson which it inculcates, and in every example which it offers, there is throughout one character that invariably prevails, which is, the truest and soundest good sense. The Scripture, while, in the main, so plain and simple, "that he may run that readeth," has accordingly been ever most prized by its profoundest and most sagacious readers. And the longer and more attentively such persons have studied it, the higher has their estimation risen. We will not adduce cases from that constellation of shining lights, the learned churchmen, whose testimony might be objected to, from the very circumstance which ought to enhance its value, their pro

fessional attachment, because the naming of Bacon, Boyle, and Locke is sufficient.

It will be found on the most impartial scrutiny, that that plan or practice which is clearly opposed to Scripture, is no less really hostile to right reason, and the true interests of man. And it is scarcely to be doubted, that if we could investigate the multiform history of individuals in the Christian world, it would be indisputable, that a deep impression of Scripture facts and principles had proved, beyond comparison, the most successful preservative against the worst evils of human life. Doubtless, it has been found most difficult to retain such an impression amid the business, and pleasures, and entanglements of the world; but so far as it has been retained, it has been uniformly the pledge of regularity in the conduct, peace in the mind, and an honourable character in society. Thus much by way of introduction to the following chapter.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

Of the Established Church of England.

CHRISTIANITY then only answers its end, when it is established as a paramount principle in the heart, purifying the desires and intentions, tranquillizing the temper, enlarging the affections, and regulating the conduct. But, though this alone be its perfect work, it has subordinate operations, which are not only valuable for their direct results, but seem, in the order of providence, to be preliminary to its more inward and spiritual efficacy.

When we observe how extensive is the outward profession of Christianity, and how obviously limited is a consistently Christian practice; the first emotion of a serious mind is naturally that of regret. But a more considerate view will give occasion to other feelings. It will be seen, that that outward profession of our holy religion, which is secured by an establishment, is an inestimable blessing to a community; that the public benefits which result from it are beyond reckoning, besides the far greater utility of affording to each individual, that light of information, and those means of religious worship, which, duly used, will ensure his eternal salvation.

That there should therefore be a visible, as well as an invisible church, an instituted, as well as a personal religion, and that the one should embrace whole communities, while the other may extend to a comparative few, appears not only the natural consequence of Christianity, as a religious profession, spreading through society, and necessarily transmitted from father to son, but it seems also that kind of arrangement which Divine wisdom would sanction, in order to the continuance of Christianity in the world.

Thus much would rational reflection dictate on a view of the case; but we are not left to our own mere reasonings. What in itself appears so probable, our Saviour has intimated to us, as an essential part of the divine plan, in several of his parables. What is the leaven hid in the three measures of meal, but real Christianity operating in those happy individuals whose hearts and lives are governed by its influence? And

what, again, is the mass of meal with which the leaven is blended, but the great body of mankind, who, by God's gracious providence, have been led to assume the Christian profession, and thus to constitute that visible church, whose mixed character is again shown in the subsequent parables of the net cast into the sea, as well as in that of the wheat and the tares. If, then, the public profession of Christianity be thus explicitly sanctioned by the Divine wisdom; if, also, our own daily experience shows it to be most beneficial to society, as well as obviously conducive to the inward and spiritual purposes of our religion; we must admit, that the establishment which evidently secures such profession, is an object of inestimable value. It was necessary in the order of nature, that what was to impregnate the world, should be first itself prepared and proved. For three centuries, therefore, it pleased God to leave Christianity to make its way by its own mere strength, that by its superiority, both to the allurements and the menaces of the world, to all that could be desired, and to all that could be suffered by man, its true nature, and its genuine energy, might be for ever demonstrated; and its efficacy to assimilate, at length, the whole world to itself, be evinced, by its resistless growth, in circumstances the most apparently desperate.

During this period, therefore, such instruments alone were used as might serve to evince most clearly, that the "excellency of the power was of God, and not of men." But when the season had arrived when the intermixture was to be extensively promoted, then another and very different agency was resorted to; when the world was to be brought into the visible church, then the powers of the world received that impulse from the hand of Heaven, which made them, in a deeper sense than ever before, “ministers of God for good." Then, for the first time, kings and princes embraced the profession of Christianity, and enjoined it by laws and edicts, as well as by still better methods, on the great body of their subjects.

How far the national changes which then took place were voluntary or necessitated, there is no occasion for us to inquire. "The good which is done upon the earth, God doeth it himself." And what good, next to the actual giving of the gospel, has been greater than the providential blending of the leaven of Christianity with the great mass of human society? If the first generation of those nominal Christians were even pagans in their hearts, that did not lessen the greatness of the benefit to posterity. They passed away, and their paganism passed away along with them : and the light of Christianity, invaluable in its immediate, but infinitely more so in its ultimate consequences, became the entailed possession of these European nations, under the double guarantee of popular attachment and political power.

Such was the providential origin of religious establishments. Let those who object to them, only keep in their view that chain of events by which the Christian profession was made national in any country; let them also inquire the fate of Christianity in those countries, where either no such establishments took place, or where they were overthrown by the ascendancy of the Mahometan potentates. Lastly, let them reflect on the benefit and the comfort of that one single effect of "kings becoming nursing-fathers, and queens nursing-mothers," of the visible church -- the legal