able to judge, they are not merely fair, but necessary consequences of such rejection), your deistical acquaintances cannot have so much reason as they suppose, to pride themselves on that noble exercise of their understanding which has freed them from vulgar prejudices and sordid restraints. Is there not, hence, too much reason to fear, that in nineteen instances out of twenty, Deism springs more from the state of the heart than from the operations of intellect? and that it is not so much because Christianity offends the reason, as because it condemns the conduct, of men, that they affect to despise it? They commence their progress with a carelessness respecting their future interests; in the language of Young, they

-“ Give to time eternity's regard,

And, dreaming, take their passage for their port." Gliding along thus carelessly, it is natural enough that they should sink,—first into error,-next into vice. In such a situation, an inquiry into the evidences of Revealed Religion is not instituted under very favourable auspices; for the inquirer has his mind overgrown with the worst of all prejudices, those that are rooted in interest. How should a man be indifferent as to the truth of a system, which, if true, must condemn him? Though his life may not be grossly immoral, he knows that the tenor of his conduct is incompatible with the renunciations and requirements of real religion. He comes, therefore, to the trial, not as an impartial judge, but as a party deeply interested in the issue. He in consequence wishes that Christianity may not be true; and what a man fervently wishes, he can easily persuade himself to believe,-though he should involve himself in a thousand absurdities in consequence of that persuasion.

You, my friend, have happily entered upon this important inquiry, free from the lamentable incumbrances of vice: that it may be so pursued, as to be the mean of preserving you from the deistical delusions to which I have adverted in this letter,-

19

LETTER II.

On the Necessity of a Revelation of the Will of God.

WHEN you request, my dear Friend, that I will not let the letter I recently sent you, terminate the remarks I mean to transmit on the subject of Religion, but that I will allow you to consider it as the first of a series which I shall devote to the discussion of the Evidences, Doctrines, and Duties of Christianity, you propose to me a task, which, however willing I may be to undertake it on your account, will, I am aware, be attended with some difficulty, and require much time and meditation. The difficulty does not arise from the paucity and scantiness of the materials that lie before me, and the consequent necessity of exercising original or inventive powers to produce such argumentative matter as may convince a candid inquirer ; but from the extreme copiousness of the subject, the abundance and variety of the means by which it has been established, confirmed, and illustrated, and the judgment requisite to draw out of an immense mass, to which men of learning and piety in all ages of the Church have contributed, those particulars which may be best calculated to impress the mind, and to call forth both a rational and practical conviction. The lively interest, however, which I feel in all that concerns you, and my extreme solicitude that you should think correctly and act wisely in relation to this most momentous of all topics, induce me to comply with your wishes, notwithstanding the embarrassment in which such compliance may sometimes involve me. I have only to premise, before I pursue the inquiry you have suggested, that as, on the one hand, I do not expect you will assent to every proposition. I shall advance, but will be determined by the aggregate impression resulting from the whole; so, on the other, you must not expect to be entertained with novelties, or fascinated with beauties.

“ Nullum est jam dictum, quod non dictum prius.” TER. My objects will be to select-not to invent; to convince-not to compel; to instruct—not to delight; to persuade-not to enchant: and if I shall be so fortunate as to effect these without occupying very much of your time;—if I shall save you the fatigue of turning over many a ponderous volume, and the vexation of reading many in vain (through the want of a judicious friend at your elbow to direct your choice); -if I can compress

into small

compass

the most essential arguments that are diffused through numerous works of various authors in different ages, and the result of my labour be beneficial to you; I shall have the satisfaction, the purest allotted to man, of having exerted myself successfully in a good cause.

Having premised this, I may venture to remark, that if the train of argumentation in my former letter be calculated to make any impression, it is, that the absurdities of Deism render a Revelation of the will of God probable. It may also be inferred further, that what we may naturally expect from the character of God renders such a revelation more probable ; and we may now observe, that the state of men

renders it necessary. It indeed seems extremely unlikely, that the Divine Being would suffer mankind to have fallen into such great apostasy from him as is every where manifest, without intending to render them assistance through which they may be recovered. He has made provision n the natural world for the removal of bodily disorders ; can we then imagine that he will be altogether regardless of the much more dangerous diseases of the mind ? It is, for example, a most deplorable degree of blindness to live utterly unconcerned about what we are; and it is a far more tremendous thing to live wickedly, to live as “ without 6. God in the world,” when we are surrounded with his essence, and believe in his existence: yet the greater part of mankind are under one or other of these dismal infatuations; and there can be no reason assigned why they should ever be otherwise, unless they are roused from their slumber, or checked in their irreligious courses, by the voice of Deity.

Leave man to himself and to his own efforts, even when most actively inclined, and what can he accom

He is evidently formed for thinking; his intellectual part gives dignity to his character: to think correctly constitutes a prime duty; correct thinking is manifested in his contemplating himself, his author, and his end; and yet, how commonly does he neglect these inquiries to pursue trifling vanities, and “ waste his strength in that which profiteth not?" Or suppose he directs his unassisted intellectual energies into a more suitable channel, what does he effect? He has an idea, an inward perception of

plish ?