quiries: in the investigation of nature, we can always make a progrefs in knowledge, and approximate to the truth by the proper exertion of genius and obfervation. But our enquiries into religious fubjects are confined within very narrow bounds; nor can any force of reafon or application lead the mind one step beyond that impenetrable gulf, which feparates the visible and invifible world.

Though the articles of religious belief, which fall within the comprehenfion of mankind, and feem effential to their happicefs, are few and fimple, yet ingenious men have contrived to erect them into moft tremendous fyftems of metaphyfical fubtlety, which will long remain monuments both of the extent and the weakness of human understanding. The pernicicus confequences of fuch fyftems, have been various. By attempting to establish too mach, they have hurt the foundation of the moft interefting principles of religion. -Maft men are educated in a belief of the peculiar and diftinguishing opinions of fome one religious fect or other. They are taught, that all these are equally found ei on divine authority, or the cleareft deductions of reafon; by which means their flem of religion hangs fo much together, that one part cannot be fhaken without endangering the whole. But wherever any freedom of enquiry is allowed, the abfurdity of fome of these opinions, and the uncertain foundation of others, cannot be concealed. This naturally begets a general diftruft of the whole, with that fatal lukewarmness in religion, which is its neceffary confequence.

The very habit of frequent reafoning and difputing upon religious fubjects, diminifhes that reverence with which the mind would otherwife confider them. This feems particularly to be the cafe, when men prefume to enter into a minute fcrutiny of the views and economy of Providence, in the adminiftration of the world; why the Supreme Being made it as it is; the freedom of his actions; and many other fuch questions, infinitely beyond our reach. The natural tendency of this, is to leffen that awful veneration with which we ought always to contemplate the Divinity, but which can never be preferved, when men canvas his ways with fuch unwarrantable freedom. Accordingly we find, amongst thofe fectaries where fuch difquifitions have principally prevailed, that he has been mentioned and even addreffed

with the most indecent and fhocking familiarity. The truly devotional fpirit, whofe chief foundation and characteristic is genuine and profound humility, is not to be looked for among fuch perfons.

Another bad effect of this fpeculative theology, has been to withdraw people's attention from its practical duties -We ufually find, that thofe who are most diftinguished by their exceffive zeal for opinions in religion, fhew great moderation and coolness as to its precepts; and their great feverity in this refpect, is commonly exerted against a few vices where the heart is but little concerned, and to which their own difpofitions preserved them from any temptations.

But the worst effects of fpeculative and controverfial theology, are those which it produces on the temper and affections.When the mind is kept conftantly embarraffed in a perplexed and thorny path, where it can find no fteady light to thew the way, nor foundation to reft on, the temper loofes its native chearfulness, and contracts a gloom and feverity, partly from the chagrin of difappointment, and partly from the focial and kind affections being extinguished for want of exercise. When this evil is exafperated by oppofition and difpute, the confequences prove very fatal to the peace of fociety; efpecially when men are perfuaded, that their holding certain opinions entitles them to the divine favour; and that thofe who differ from them, are devoted to eternal destruction. This perfuafion breaks at once all the ties of fociety. The toleration of men who hold erroneous opinions, is confidered as conniving at their deftroying not only themfelves, but all others who come within the reach of their influence. This produces that cruel and implacable fpirit, which has fo often difgraced the caufe of religion, and dishonoured humanity.

Yet the effects of religious controverfy have fometimes proved beneficial to mankind. That fpirit of free enquiry, which incited the fift Reformers to shake off the yoke of ecclefiaftical tyranny, naturally begot juft fentiments of civil liberty, efpeci ally when irritated by perfecution, When fuch fentiments came to be united with that bold enthusiasm, that severity of temper and manners that diftinguished fome of the reformed fects, they produced thofe refolute and inflexible men, who alone were able to affert the caufe of liberty, in an age when the Chriftian world was ener

vated by luxury or fuperftition; and to fuch men we owe that freedom and happy conflitution which we at prefent enjoy.-But thefe advantages of religious enthusiasm have been but accidental.

In general it would appear, that religion, confidered as a science, in the manner it has been ufually treated, is but little beneficial to mankind, neither tending to enlarge the understanding, fweeten the temper, or mend the heart. At the fame time, the labours of ingenious men, in explaining obfcure and difficult paffages of facred writ, have been highly ufeful and neceffary. And though it is natural for men to carry their fpeculations, on a fubject that fo nearly concerns their prefent and eternal happinefs, farther than reafon extends, or than is clearly and exprefsly revealed; yet thefe can be followed by no bad confequences, if they are carried on with that modeity and reverence which the fubject requires. They become pernicious only when they are formed into systems, to which the fame credit and fubmiffion is required as to Holy Writ itfelf. Gregory.

$77. Religion confidered as a Rule of Life

and Manners.

We fhall now proceed to confider religion as a rule of life and manners. In this refpect, its influence is very extenfive and beneficial, even when disfigured by the wildeft fuperftition; as it is able to check and conquer thofe paflions, which reafon and philofophy are too weak to encounter. But it is much to be regretted, that the application of religion to this end, hath not been attended to with that care which the importance of the fubject required. The fpeculative part of religion feems generally to have engroffed the attention of men of genius. This has been the fate of all the ufeful and practical arts of life; and the application of religion, to the regulation of life and manners, must be confidered entirely as a practical art.-The caufes of this neglect, feem to be thefe: Men of a philofophical genius have an averfion to all application, where the active powers of their own minds are not immediately employed. But in acquiring any practical art, a philofopher is obliged to fpend most of his time in employments where his genius and understanding have no exercife. The fate of the practical arts of medicine and religion have been pretty fimilar: the object of the one, is to cure the difeafes of the body; of the other, to

cure the difeafes of the mind. The progrefs and degrees of perfection of both thefe arts ought to be estimated by no other standard, than their fuccefs in the cure of the difeases to which they are feverally applied. In medicine, the facts on which the art depends, are fo numerous and complicated, fo mifrepresented by fraud, credulity, or a heated imagination, that there has hardly ever been found a truly philofophical genius who has attempted the practical part of it. There are, indeed, many obftacles of different kinds, which occur to render any improvement in the practice of phyfic a matter of the utmoft difficulty, at least whilft the profeffion refts on its prefent narrow foundation. Almoft all phyficians who have been men of ingenuity, have amufed themselves in forming theories, which gave exercife to their invention, and at the fame time contributed to their reputation. Inftead of being at the trouble of making observations themfelves, they culled, out of the promifcuous multitude already made, fuch as best suited their purpose, and dressed In confequence of this, the hiftory of methem up in the way their fyftem required.

dicine does not fo much exhibit the hif

tory of a progreffive art, as a history of opinions which prevailed perhaps for twenty or thirty years, and then funk into contempt and oblivion. The cafe has been nearly fimilar in practical divinity: but this is attended with much greater difficulties than the practical part of medicine; in this laft, nothing is required but affiduous and accurate obfervation, and a good understanding to direct the proper application of fuch obfervation.

Ibid.

$78. How Religion is to be applied to cure

the Difeafes of the Mind.

To cure the diseases of the mind, there is required that intimate knowledge of the human heart, which must be drawn from life itfelf, and which books can never teach; of the various difguifes under which vice recommends herfelf to the imagination; of the artful affociation of ideas which the forms there; and of the many nameless circumftances that foften the heart and render it acceffible. It is likewife neceffary to have a knowledge of the arts of infinuation and perfuafion, of the art of breaking faife and unnatural affociations of ideas, or inducing counter-affo ciations, and oppofing one paffion to another; and after all this knowledge is ac

quired,

quired, the fuccefsful application of it to practice depends, in a confiderable degree, on powers, which no extent of understanding can confer.

Vice does not depend fo much on a perverfon of the understanding, as of the imagination and paffions, and on habits originally founded on thefe. A vicious man is generally fenfible enough that his conduct is wrong; he knows that vice is contrary both to his duty and to his intereft; and therefore, all laboured reafoning, to fatisfy his understanding of these truths, is ufelefs, because the disease does rot lie in the understanding. The evil is feated in the heart. The imaginations and pathons are engaged on its fide; and to them the cure must be applied. Here has been the general defect of writings and fermons, intended to reform mankind. Many ingenious and fenfible remarks are made on the feveral duties of religion, and very judicious arguments are brought to enforce them. Such performances may be attended to with pleasure, by pious and well-difpofed perfons, who likewife may derive from thence useful instruction for their conduct in life. The wicked and profigate, if ever books of this fort fall in their way, very readily allow, that what they contain are great and eternal truths; but they leave no lafting impreffion. If any thing can roufe, it is the power of lively and pathetic defcription, which traces and lays open their hearts through all their windings and difguifes, makes them fee and confefs their own characters in all their deformityand horror, impreffes their hearts, and interefts their paffions by all the motives of love, gratitude, and fear, the profpect of rewards and punishments, and whatever other motives religion or nature may dictate. But to do this effectually, requires very different powers from thofe of the understanding: a lively and well regulated imagination is effentially requifite.

$79. On Public Preaching.

Gregory.

In public addreffes to an audience, the great end of reformation is moft effectually promoted; because all the powers of voice and action, all the arts of eloquence, may be brought to give their affillance. But fome of thofe arts depend on gifts of Lature, and cannot be attained by any ftrength of genius or understanding: even where nature has been liberal of those necellary requifites, they must be cultivated

by much practice, before the proper exercife of them can be acquired. Thus, a public fpeaker may have a voice that is mufical and of great compafs; but it requires much time and labour to attain its juft modulation, and that variety of flexion and tone, which a pathetic difcourfe requires. The fame difficulty attends the acquifition of that propriety of action, that power over the expreffive features of the countenance, particularly of the eyes, fo neceffary to command the hearts and paffions of an audience.

It is ufually thought that a preacher, who feels what he is faying himself, will naturally speak with that tone of voice and expreffion in his countenance, that best suits the fubject, and which cannot fail to move his audience: thus it is faid, a perfon under the influence of fear, anger, or forrow, looks and speaks in the manner naturally expreffive of these emotions. This is true in fome measure; but it can never be fuppofed, that any preacher will be able to enter into his fubject with fuch real warmth upon every occafion. Befides, every prudent man will be afraid to abandon himfelf fo entirely to any impreffion, as he muft do to produce this effect. Most men, when strongly affected by any paffion or emotion, have fome peculiarity in their pearance, which does not belong to the natural expreffion of fuch an emotion. If this be not properly corrected, a public fpeaker, who is really warm aud animated with his fubject, may nevertheless make a very ridiculous and contemptible figure. It is the business of art, to fhew nature in her most amiable and graceful forms, and not with thofe peculiarities in which the appears in particular inftances; and it is this difficulty of properly reprefenting nature, that renders the eloquence and action both of the pulpit and the ftage, acquifitions of fuch difficult attainment.

ap

But, befides thofe talents inherent in the preacher himself, an intimate knowledge of nature will fuggeft the neceflity of attending to certain external circumstances, which operate powerfully on the mind, and prepare it for receiving the defigned impreffions. Such, in particular, is the proper regulation of church-mufic, and the folemnity and pomp: of public worfhip. Independent of the effect that these particulars have on the imagination, it might be expected, that a juft taste, a fenfe, of decency and propriety, would make them more attended to than we find

they

they are. We acknowledge that they have been abused, and have occafioned the groffeft fuperftition; but this univerfal propenfity to carry them to excefs, is the ftrongest proof that the attachment to them is deeply rooted in human nature, and confequently that it is the bufinefs of good fenfe to regulate, and not vainly to attempt to extinguish it. Many religious fects, in their infancy, have fupported themfelves without any of thefe external affiftances; but when time has abated the fervor of their firft zeal, we always find that their public worship has been conducted with the moft remarkable coldness and inatten tion, unless fupported by well-regulated ceremonies. In fact, it will be found, that thofe fects who at their commencement have been moft diftinguished for a religious enthufiafm that defpifed all forms, and the genius of whofe tenets could not admit the ufe of any, have either been of short duration, or ended in infidelity.

The many difficulties that attend the practical art of making religion influence the manners and lives of mankind, by acquiring a command over the imagination and paffions, have made it too generally ne glected, even by the moft eminent of the clergy for learning and good fenfe. Thefe have rather chofen to confine themfelv es to a track, where they were fure to excel by the force of their own genius, than to attempts road where their fuccefs was doubtful, and where they might be outine by men greatly their inferiors. It has therefore been principally culti vated by men of lively imaginations, poffeffe of fore natural advantages of voice and manner. But as no art can ever become very beneficial to mankind, unlefs it be un ler the direction of genius and good fent, it has too often happened, that the art we are now fpeaking of has become fubfervien to the wildeft fanaticifm, fometimes to the gratification of vanity, and fometimes to fill more unworthy purpofes. Gregory.

$80. Relig, on confidered as exciting De

votion.

The third view of religion confiders it as engaging an interefting the affections, and comprehend the devotional or fentimental part of it -The devotional fpirit is in fome measure conftitutional, depending on liveliness of imagination and fenfibility of heart, and, like thefe qualities, prevails more in war ner climates than it

does in ours. What fhews its great dependance on the imagination, is the remarkable attachment it has to poetry and mufic, which Shakespeare calls the food of love, and which may, with equal truth, be called the food of devotion. Mufic enters into the future paradife of the devout of every fect and of every country. The Deity, viewed by the eye of cool reafon, may be faid, with great propriety, to dwell in light inacceffible. The mind, ftruck with the immenfity of his being, and with a fenfe of its own littleness and unworthinefs, admires with that distant awe and veneration that almoft excludes love. But viewed by a devout imagination, he may become an object of the warmest affection, and even paffion. The philofopher contemplates the Deity in all thofe marks of wifdom and benignity diffused through the various works of nature. The devout man confines his views rather to his own particular connection with the Deity, the many inftances of his goodness he himself has experienced, and the many greater he ftill hopes for. This establishes a kind of intercourfe, which often interefts the heart and paffions in the deepest manner.

The devotional tafte, like all other taftes, has had the hard fate to be condemned as a weakness, by all who are strangers to its joys and its influence. Too much and too frequent occafion has been given, to turn this fubject into ridicule.-A heated and devout imagination, when not under the direction of a very found understanding, is apt to run very wild, and is at the fame time impatient to publish all its follies to the world. The feelings of a devout heart fhould be mentioned with great reserve and delicacy, as they depend upon private experience, and certain circumftances of mind and fituation, which the world can neither know nor judge of. But devotional writ ings, executed with judgment and taste, are not only highly ufeful, but to all whe have a true fenfe of religion, peculiarly engaging.

Ibid.

becoming utterly abandoned. It has, be fides, the most favourable influence on all the paffive virtues; it gives a softness and fenfibility to the heart, and a mildness and gentlenes to the manners; but above all, it produces an univerfal charity and love to mankind, however different in ftation, country, or religion. There is a fublime yet tender melancholy, almoft the universal attendant on genius, which is too apt to degenerate into gloom and difguft with the world. Devotion is admirably calculated to foothe this difpofition, by infenfibly leading the mind, while it feems to indulge it, to thofe profpects which calm every murmur of difconteat, and diffuse a chearfulness over the darkest hours of human life.-Perfons in the pride of high health and fpirits, who are keen in the purfuits of pleasure, intereft, or ambition, have either no ideas on this fabject, or treat it as the enthusiasm of a weak mind. But this really fhews great narrowness of understanding; a very little reflection and acquaintance with nature might teach them, on how precarious a foundation their boasted independence on religion is built; the thousand nameless accidents that may destroy it; and that though for fome years they fhould efcape thefe, yet that time muft impair the greatest vigour of health and fpirits, and deprive them of all thofe objects for which, at preftat, they think life only worth enjoying. It should feem, therefore, very neceffary to fecure fome permanent object, fome real fpport to the mind, to chear the foul, when all others fhall have loft their infuence. The greatest inconvenience, indeed, that attends devotion, is its taking fuch a vaft hold of the affections, as fometimes threatens the extinguifhing of every ether active principle of the mind. For when the devotional fpirit falls in with a melancholy temper, it is too apt to deprefs the mind entirely, to fink it to the weakest fuperftition, and to produce a total retirement and abstraction from the world, and all the duties of life. Gregory. 182. The Difference between true and falfe Politeness.

It is evident enough, that the moral and Christian duty, of preferring one another in honour, refpects only focial peace and charity, and terminates in the good and edification of our Christian brother. Its afe is, to foften the minds of men, and to draw them from that favage rafticity, which engenders many vices, and difcredits

the virtues themselves. But when men had experienced the benefit of this complying temper, and further faw the ends, not of charity only, but of self-intereft, that might be answered by it; they confidered no longer its juft purpofe and application, but stretched it to that officious fedulity, and extreme fervility of adulation, which we too often obferve and lament in polished life.

Hence, that infinite attention and confideration, which is fo rigidly exacted, and fo duly paid, in the commerce of the world: hence, that prostitution of mind, which leaves a man no will, no fentiment, no principle, no character; all which difappear under the uniform exhibition of good manners: hence, thofe infidious arts, thofe ftudied difguifes, thofe obfequious flatteries, nay, thofe multiplied and nicelyvaried forms of infinuation and addrefs, the direct aim of which may be to acquire the fame of politeness and good-breeding, but the certain effect, to corrupt every virtue, to foothe every vanity, and to inflame every vice of the human heart.

Thefe fatal mischiefs introduce themfelves under the pretence and femblance of that humanity, which the fcriptures encourage and enjoin: but the genuine virtue is eafily diftinguished from the counterfeit, and by the following plain figns.

True politeness is modeft, unpretending, and generous. It appears as little as may be; and when it does a courtesy, would willingly conceal it. It choofes filently to forgo its own claims, not officiously to withdraw them. It engages a man to prefer his neighbour to himself, because he really esteems him; because he is tender of his reputation; because he thinks it more manly, more Christian, to defcend a little himself than to degrade another. It refpects, in a word, the credit and eftimation of his neighbour.

The mimic of this amiable virtue, falfe politeness, is, on the other hand, ambitious, fervile, timorous. It affects popularity: is folicitous to pleafe, and to be taken notice of. The man of this character does not offer, but obtrude his civilities; becaufe he would merit by this affiduity; because, in defpair of winning regard by any worthier qualities, he would be fure to make the most of this; and lastly, because of all things, he would dread, by the omiffion of any punctilious obfervance, tɔ give offence. In a word, this fort of politenefs refpects, for its immediate object, the

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favour