turn his attention to some other pursuit. He cannot expect to attain eminence or to enjoy comfort in a station, for which he carries about with him an inward disqualification; and there is an hypocrisy most disgraceful and most hurtful to his moral character in all the external appearances of preparing for that station.

In attempting to lead you through that course of study which is immediately connected with your profession, I begin with what is called the Deistical Controversy, that is, with a view of the Evidences of Christianity, and of the various questions which have arisen in canvassing the branches of which they are composed.

I assume, as the ground-work of every religious system, these two great doctrines, that "God is, and that He is a rewarder of them that seek him."* When I say that I assume them, I do not mean that human reason unassisted by revelation was ever able to demonstrate these doctrines in a manner satisfactory to every understanding. But I mean that these doctrines are agreeable to the natural impressions of the human mind, and that any religious system, which purifies them from the manifold errors with which they have been incorporated, corresponds, in that respect, to the clear deductions of enlightened reason.

It is not my province to enter into any detail upon the proofs of these two doctrines of natural religion; and I am afraid to engage in discussions which have been conducted with much erudition and metaphysical acuteness, lest I should be enticed to employ too large a portion of your time in reviewing them. Leaving you to avail yourselves of the copious sources of information which writers upon this subject afford, I will not enumerate, far less attempt to appreciate, the different modes of reasoning which have been adopted in proof of the being of God, and of his moral government. But, having assumed these doctrines, I think it proper to give, by way of introduction to my course, a short view of the manner in which it appears to me that they may be established as the ground-work of all religion.

When we say that there is a God, we mean that the universe is the work of an intelligent Being; that is, from the things which we behold, we infer the existence of what

* Hebrews xi. 6.

To show that the inference

is not the object of our senses. is legitimate, we must be able to state the principles upon which it proceeds, or the steps of that process by which the mind advances, from the contemplation of the objects with which it is conversant, to the conviction of the existence of their Creator. These principles are found in the constitution of the human mind, in sentiments and perceptions which are natural and ultimate, which are manifested by all men upon various occasions, and which are only followed out to their proper conclusion when they conduct us to the knowledge of God. One of these sentiments and perceptions appears in the spirit of inquiry and investigation which universally prevails; another is invariably excited by the contemplation of order, beauty, and design.

A spirit of inquiry and investigation has larger opportunities of exertion, it is better directed, and is applied to nobler objects, with some than with others. But, to a certain degree, it is common to all men, and traces of it are found amongst all ranks. Now you will observe that this spirit of inquiry is an effort to discover the cause of what we behold. And it proceeds upon this natural perception, that every new event, every thing which we see coming into existence, every alteration in any being, is an effect. Without hesitation we conclude that it has been produced, and we are solicitous to discover the cause of it. We begin our inquiries with eagerness; we pursue them as far as we have light to carry us; and we do not rest satisfied till we arrive at something which renders farther inquiries unnecessary. This persevering spirit of inquiry, which is daily exerted about trifles, finds the noblest subject of exertion in the continual changes which we behold upon the appearances of the heavenly bodies, upon the state of the atmosphere, upon the surface of the earth, and in those hidden regions which the progress of art leads man to explore. To every attentive and intelligent observer, these continual changes present the whole universe as an effect; and, in contemplating the succession of them, he is led, as by the hand of nature, through a chain of subordinate and dependent causes to that great original cause from whom the universe derived its being, upon whose operation depend all the changes of which it is susceptible, and by whose uncontrolled agency all events are directed.

Even without forming any extensive observations upon the train of natural events, we are led by the same spirit of inquiry, from considering our own species, to the knowledge of our Creator. Every man knows that he had a beginning, and that he derived his being from a succession of creatures like himself. However far back he supposes this succession to be carried, it does not afford a satisfying account of the cause of his existence. By the same principle which directs him in every other research, he is still led to seek for some original Being, who has been produced by none, and is himself the Father of all. As every man knows that he came into existence, so he has the strongest reason to believe that the whole race to which he belongs had a beginning. A tradition has in all ages been preserved of the origin of the human race. Many nations have boasted of antiquity. None have pretended to eternity. All that their records contain beyond a certain period is fabulous or doubtful. In looking back upon the history of mankind, we find them increasing in numbers, acquiring a taste for the ornaments of life, and improving in the liberal arts and sciences; so that unless we adopt without proof and against all probability the supposition of successive deluges which drown in oblivion all the attainments of civilized nations, and spare only a few savage inhabitants to propagate the race, we find in the state of mankind all the marks of novelty which it must have borne, had it begun to be some few thousand years ago. But if the human race had a beginning, we unavoidably regard it as an effect of which we require some original cause; and to the same cause from which it derived existence we must also trace the qualities by which the race is distinguished. The Being who gave it existence must be capable of imparting to it these qualities, that is, must possess them in a much higher degree. "He that planted the ear, shall he not hear? He that formed the eye, shall he not see? He that teacheth man knowledge, shall not he know?"* Thus, from the intelligence of men, we necessarily infer that of their Creator; while the number of intelligent beings with whom we converse cannot fail to give us the noblest idea of that original primary intelligence from which theirs is derived.

6

* Psal. xciv. 9, 10.

While the spirit of inquiry, which is natural to man, thus leads us from the consciousness of our own existence to acknowledge the existence of one supreme intelligent Being, the Father of Spirits, we are conducted to the same conclusion by that other natural perception which I said is invariably excited by the contemplation of order, beauty, and design.

The grandeur and beauty of external objects do not seem to affect the other animals. But they afford a certain degree of pleasure to all men; and in many persons a taste for them is so far cultivated that the pleasures of imagination constitute a large source of refined enjoyment. When grandeur and beauty are conjoined as they seldom fail to be with utility, they do not merely afford us pleasure. We not only perceive the objects which we behold, to be grand and beautiful and useful; but we perceive them to be effects produced by a designing cause. In viewing a complicated machine, it is the design which strikes us. In admiring the object, we admire the mind that formed it. Without hesitation we conclude that it had a former; and, although ignorant of every other circumstance respecting him, we know this much, that he is possessed of intelligence, our idea of which rises in proportion to the design discovered in the construction of the machine. By this principle, which is prior to all reasoning, and of which we can give no other account than that it is part of the constitution of the human mind, we are raised from the admiration of natural objects to a knowledge of the existence, and a sense of the perfections of Him who made them.

When we contemplate the works of nature, distinguished from those of art by their superior elegance, splendour, and utility; when we behold the sun, the moon, and the stars, performing their offices with the most perfect regularity, and, although removed at an immense distance from us, contributing in a high degree to our preservation and comfort; when we view this earth fitted as a convenient habitation for man, adorned with numberless beauties, and provided not only with a supply of our wants, but with every thing that can minister to our pleasure and entertainment; when, extending our observation to the various animals that inhabit this globe, we find that every crea

ture has its proper food, its proper habitation, its proper happiness; that the meanest insect as well as the noblest animal has the several parts of its body, the senses bestowed upon it, and the degree of perfection in which it possesses them, adapted with the nicest proportion to its preservation and to the manner of life which by natural instinct it is led to pursue; when we thus discover within our own sphere, numberless traces of kind and wise design, and when we learn, both by experience and by observation, that the works of nature, the more they are investigated and known, appear the more clearly to be parts of one great consistent whole, we are necessarily led by the constitution of our mind to believe the being of a God. Our faith does not stand in the obscure reasonings of philosophers. We but open our eyes, and discerning, wheresoever we turn them, the traces of a wise Creator, we see and acknowledge his hand. The most superficial view is sufficient to impress our minds with a sense of his existence. The closest scrutiny, by enlarging our acquaintance with the innumerable final causes that are found in the works of God, strengthens this impression, and confirms our first conclusions. The more that we know of these works, we are the more sensible that in nature there is not only an exertion of power, but an adjustment of means to an end, which is what we call wisdom; and an adjustment of means to the end of distributing happiness to all the creatures, which is the highest conception that we can form of goodness.

A foundation so deeply laid in the constitution of the human mind for the belief of a Deity has produced an acknowledgment of his being, almost universal. The idea of God, found amongst all nations civilized in the smallest degree, is such that by the slightest use of our faculties we must acquire it. And accordingly the few nations who are said to have no notion of God are in a state so barbarous that they seem to have lost the perceptions and sentiments of men.

The Atheist allows it to be necessary that something should have existed of itself from eternity. But he is accustomed to maintain that matter in motion is sufficient to account for all those appearances, from which we infer the being of God. The absurdities of this hypothesis have