ly intending by the many provisions made, That in all such corrupt or misguided cases, where principle and the checks of conscience will not make us upright, to supply their force, and, by the terrors of jails and halters, oblige us to it.

To have the fear of God before our eyes; and, in our mutual dealings with each other, to govern our actions by the eternal measures of right and wrong:

-the first of these will comprehend the duties of religion; the second those of morality: which are so inseparably connected together, that you cannot divide these two tables, even in imagination (though the attempt is often made in practice)-without breaking and mutually destroying them both.

I said the attempt is often made ;—and so it is; there being nothing more common than to see a man, who has no sense at all of religion,-and indeed has so much of honesty, as to pretend to none, who would yet take it as the bitterest affront, should you but hint at a suspicion of his moral character,or imagine he was not conscientiously just, and scrupulous to the uttermost mite.

When there is some appearance that it is so,though one is not willing even to suspect the appearance of so great a virtue as moral honesty,— yet, were we to look into the grounds of it in the present case, I am persuaded we should find little reason to envy such a man the honour of his mo tive.

Let him declaim as prompously as he can on the subject, it will be found at last to rest upon no better foundation than either his interest, his pride, his ease, or some such little and changeable passion, as

will give us but small dependence upon his actions in matters of great stress.

Give me leave to illustrate this by an example.

I know the banker I deal with, or the physician I usually call in, to be neither of them men of much religion: I hear them make a jest of it every day, and treat all its sanctions with so much scorn and contempt, as to put the matter past doubt. Well,notwithstanding this, I put my fortune into the hands of the one, and, what is dearer still to me, I trust my life to the honest skill of the other.-Now, let me examine what is my reason for this great confidence. Why,-in the first place, I believe that there is no probability that either of them will employ the power I put into their hands to my disadvantage. I consider that honesty serves the pur poses of this life ;-I know their success in the world depends upon the fairness of their characters ;-that they cannot hurt me without hurting themselves

more.

But put it otherwise, namely, that interest lay for once on the other side :-that a case should happen wherein the one, without stain to his reputation, could secrete my fortune, and leave me naked in the world; or, that the other could send me out of it, and enjoy an estate by my death, without dishonour to himself or his art.-In this case, what hold have I of either of them?-Religion, the strongest of all motives, is out of the question-Interest, the next most powerful motive in this world, is strongly against me. I have nothing left to cast into the scale to balance this temptation. I must lie at the mercy of honour,-or some such capricious princi

ple. Strait security! for two of my best and most valuable blessings,-my property and my life!

As therefore we can have no dependence upon morality without religion ;-so, on the other hand, there is nothing better to be expected from religion without morality; nor can any man be supposed to discharge his duties to God, whatever fair appearances he may hang out that he does so, if he does not pay as conscientious a regard to the duties which he owes his fellow-creature.

This is a point capable in itself of strict demonstration. Nevertheless, 'tis no rarity to see a man whose real moral merit stands very low, who yet entertains the highest notion of himself, in the light of a devout and religious man. He shall not only be covetous, revengeful, implacable, but even wanting in points of common honesty ;-yet, because he talks loud against the infidelity of the age,-is zealous for some points of religion,-goes twice a day to church, attends the sacraments, and amuses himself with a few instrumental duties of religion,. -shall cheat his conscience into a judgment that for this he is a religious man, and has discharged faithfully his duty to God: and you will find that such a man, through force of this delusion, generally looks down with spiritual pride upon every other man who has less affectation of piety, though, perhaps, ten times more moral honesty than himself.

"This is likewise a sore evil under the sun;" and, I believe, there is no one mistaken principle which, for its time, has wrought more serious mischiefs. For a general proof of this, examine the history of the Romish church.-See what scenes, of eruelty, murders, rapines, bloodshed, have all been

sanctified by a religion not strictly governed by morality!

In how many kingdoms of the world has the crusading sword of this misguided saint-errant spared neither age, nor merit, nor sex, nor condition !— And, as he fought under the banners of a religion which set him loose from justice and humanity-he shewed none, mercilessly trampled upon both,heard neither the cries of the unfortunate, nor pitied their distresses.

If the testimony of past centuries in this matter is not sufficient, consider at this instant, how the votaries of that religion are every day thinkng to do service and honour to God, by actions which are a dishonour and scandal to themselves.

To be convinced of this, go with me for a moment into the prisons of the inquisition.-Behold religion, with mercy and justice chained down under hes feet, there sitting ghastly upon a black tribunal, propped up with racks and instruments of torment !-Hark !-What a piteous groan !-See the melancholy wretch who uttered it, just brought forth to undergo the anguish of a mock-trial, and endure the utmost pains that a studied system of re ligious cruelty has been able to invent! Behold this helpless victim delivered up to his tormentors: his body so wasted with sorrow and long confinement, you'll see every nerve and muscle as it suffers !— Observe the last movement of that horrid engine.— What convulsions it has thrown him into ! Consider the nature of the posture in which he now lies stretched. What exquisite torture he endures by it!-'Tis all nature can bear.-Good God! see h how it keeps his weary soul hanging upon his trembling lips, willing to take its leave, but not suffered to

depart! Behold the unhappy wretch led back to his cell,-dragged out of it again to meet the flames,and the insults in his last agonies, which this principle, this principle, that there can be religion without morality, has prepared for him!

The surest way to try the merit of any disputed notion,-is to trace down the consequences such a notion has produced, and compare them with the spirit of Christianity-Tis the short and decisive rule, which our Saviour has left for these and such like cases, and is worth a thousand arguments :"By their fruits," says he, " ye shall know them."

Thus, religion and morality, like fast friends and natural allies, can never be set at variance, without the mutual ruin and dishonour of them both ;-and whoever goes about this unfriendly office, is no well-wisher to either ;-and, whatever he pretends, he deceives his own heart; and, I fear, his morality, as well as his religion, will be vain.

I will add no farther to the length of this discourse,. than by two or three short and independent rules, deducible from what has been said.

1st, Whenever a man talks loudly against religion, always suspect that it is not his reason, but his pas sions which have got the better of his creed.—A bad life and a good belief are disagreeable and troublesome neighbours; and where they separate, depend upon it, 'tis for no other cause but quietness sake.

2dly, When a man thus represented, tells you in any particular instance, that such a thing goes against his conscience, always believe he means exactly. the same thing as when he tells you such a thing, goes against his stomach, a present want of appe tite being generally the true cause of both.