Admitting, then, as two concurrent truths, the fact of the necessity of religion to the human heart, with that of the insufficiency of the human understanding for its effectual acquisition, and we are driven, almost of necessity, to the inference, that the wisdom and goodness of our Maker would provide in some mode or other for supplying the defect. It would seem, then, that a communication from heaven, so far from being intrinsically improbable, is, on the contrary, what we might appear to have strong à priori reason for expecting from the mercy of Providence; whilst all that, under such circumstances, would remain for our intellectual powers to perform in their own proper department, would be to judge of the evidence of such revelation as that now supposed, by the same rules of probability derived from their really accessible means of knowledge, which they would apply to every other case of external testimony. This is undoubt edly the course of proceeding which the theory of Christianity requires at our hand; and it would be difficult to show that, all the circumstances of our nature considered, the demand which it thus makes upon our obedience and belief, is repugnant to the dictates of sound reason.

It appears then, if the foregoing propositions are correct, that the idea of the one true religion necessarily involves that of "an express revelation from heaven;" no natural operation of the mind of man being capable of making him acquainted with those phenomena of the invisible universe in which, notwithstanding, he has a decided interest; whilst the facts thus revealed, being many of them obviously beyond the compass of the human faculties to appreciate, are capable of being rendered objects of substantial belief, not by their own objective clearness, but only by the "evidence" with which they may be accompanied. One standard, indeed, our minds undoubtedly possess, which is and ought to be available even in the transcendental dogmas of revelation, that

is to say, our moral sense, such as we have every reason to believe that it has been implanted within us by our Maker. No religion, under any external weight of testimony whatever, can be admitted as the true one, the principles of which are unequivocally opposed to that faculty. Many revealed dogmas might, and undoubtedly would, be found above its apprehension and that of our intellectual powers, but none would be directly hostile to it. With this single exception then-an exception, which, after all, we must have recourse to only with extreme caution-we must be prepared to receive that one system of religious belief which we acknowledge as authentic, in the form of an external communication, and not of any discovery made by our own reasoning powers; whilst the evidence which will command our assent to it, will be of that peculiar description which our limited faculties are best able to apprehend, namely, the accordance of the presumed revelation with the acknowledged constitution and necessities of our own nature, the dignity and worthiness of its object, its internal consistency with itself as a whole and in all its parts, and the confirmatory attestation of those persons whose actual position as eye-witnesses, and the known integrity of whose characters, put their assertions beyond the reach of suspicion.

Admitting, then, that there exists somewhere an authentic revelation of the Divine will (and if we deny that fact we deny every one of the foregoing propositions,) the question to be resolved is simply this, "which of all the modes of opinion which have assumed the name, is that revelation ?" Now it is certainly not assuming too much, to assert that Christianity alone has the slightest claim to that character. The various religious opinions of mankind are matters of history. The events which first suggested the leading and peculiar principle of each, which fostered their growth, and gave them that hold upon the minds of their supporters which in their

several degrees they have respectively possessed, are all such as may be readily accounted for by considering the peculiar habits of the societies in which they severally arose, the worldly interests or national predilections which they served to cherish, the then existing state of comparative ignorance or literature, and often the mistaken theories respecting the structure of the material universe, which subsequent discoveries in science have effectually overthrown. Such is undoubtedly the case with every modification of religious belief with which we are acquainted, Christianity alone excepted. Every distinguishing characteristic, on the contrary, of this latter religion, is marked with peculiarities preeminently its own. It is referrible to no natural causes with which we are acquainted. Its first appearance was like that of a comet entering our planetary system. We can neither surmise from whence it comes, nor speculate upon the far remote regions with which its destinies are connected; but we look up to it with awe, and, in spite of our ignorance, feel a satisfied assurance that its operations are among those which are under the superintendence of infinite Wisdom. That, so far from having the way prepared for it by the previous habits of society, or by its accordance with human notions and passions, it, on the contrary, made its way in direct opposition to national prejudices, philosophical theories, and above all, to the natural sensuality and self-love of the human heart :-that it professed to be supported by the most miraculous deviations from the ordinary course of events, and yet gained implicit credit from persons who could have no interest in professing their belief in it if they knew it to be false, and who, had it been false, had undoubtedly the means of its refutation in their own hands:that commencing from apparently the humblest of all humble beginnings, possessed of no temporal authority, and arrayed in none of our earthly notions of "beauty that we should desire it," it, notwithstand

ing, spread rapidly over the whole civilized world, and impressed an entirely new character upon human society-that during the space of eighteen centuries it has sustained every shock which the violence of its persecutors, the calumnies and arguments of its most inveterate opponents, or the vices and superstitions of its less informed followers could inflict upon it, and that, at this moment, it stands entire; assented to in all points by a vast number of men of the most enlightened minds, and by none more than by those who have most sedulously examined its evidences:that, be it true, or be it false, it is an undoubted fact, that the most valuable members of society, the most perfect specimens of the human race, have been those who have made its doctrines their rule of faith, its injunctions the guide of their practice :-all these are points which the Christian believer may unhesitatingly assert as incontrovertible truths, and which, perhaps, few professed sceptics would have the hardihood to controvert. Why, then, having succeeded thus far, has it not done still more? To what are we to attribute the slowness with which, in latter times, this singular religion has made and continues to make its way through the world? Why, at every step of its progress, is it opposed and impeded, not merely by the violence of those passions which it is its professed object to eradicate or control, but occasionally also by the more plausible hostility of men of seeming candour, of great literary acquirements, and of apparently sound morals?

This is a question which it is natural to put, and to which it may appear difficult to return a satisfactory answer. That men of enlightened minds should despise a sensual, and detest a selfish or cruel code of religion, seems natural and just. But that they should assume a degree of merit in traducing the most singleminded and self-denying of all practical rules of conduct, and that they should coalesce for the purpose of bringing into disrepute the only seemingly well au

thenticated revelation from heaven which would raise us above the earth, and hold out the prospect of a happy immortality, is a phenomenon which appears at first sight perfectly inexplicable. To discuss this subject, and to show that the blame is not justly attributable to any want of reasonableness in the religion itself, will be the object of the following remarks. Perhaps it may appear in the sequel, that this very species of hostility which Christianity has met with, is to be considered among the strongest proofs of its unearthly origin. Most assuredly it is the very kind of reception which Scripture has expressly declared that it would receive from the passions and prejudices of mankind.

CHAPTER II.

Of the Prejudices commonly entertained by Men of the World against Revelation.

It is not necessary, in order to account for the rejec tion of Christianity by many persons of otherwise cultivated minds, and by a very considerable portion of mere men of the world, to suppose that they are conscious to themselves of any calculated motives of hostility, or any unusual laxity of morals. It is enough that we know from Scripture and from experience, that the natural heart of man is prone to elf-indulgence; and as such is averse from the labour of a painful investigation of abstract and mysterious subjects, especially where the remuneration of that labour is professedly not immediate, but the deferred and uncertain allotment of a future state of existence. The instinctive wants of the body are immediate in their demands upon our attention, and are clamorous if neglected; they require no painful tension of the understanding to perceive their object, nor any great