I i PLEA FOR RELIGION .AND THE ADDRESSED TO THt DISCIPLES QF THOMAS PAINE, AND WAVERING CHRIF NS OF EVERY PERSUASION. y/ with ^jv appejsmx, CONTAINING THE AUTHOR^ DETERMIX .*TION TO HAVE RELIN- aUlSHED HIS CHARGE IN THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH, AND THE REASONS ON WHICH THAT DETERMINATION WAS "FOUNDED* BY THE LATE REV. DAVID SIMPSON, M. A. MINISTER OF CHRIST CHURCH, MACCLESFIELD. V0* He that believeth shall be saved : but he that believe th not shall be damned. — jesus christ. FROM THE MJVTh LONDON EDITION SAXTON'S VILLAGE, Vt. PUBLISHED BY SERENO TAYLOR. Blake, Cutler, and Co., Printers — Bellows Fa'Is* fc 1824. •tin 1 * O T A <-- 1 E PREFACE. It hath been said by the late excellent Bishop Home, that, u in times when erroneous and noxious tenets are dif- fused, all men should embrace some opportunity to bear their testimony against them." That it will be allowed by every dispassionate observer, if erroneous and noxious tenets were ever diffused among men in any age, they are emi- nently so in the present. I am so far, however, from con- sidering this in the light of a misfortune to the general cause of truth, that I am persuaded purposes of the most important nature are to be answered by it, in the course of Divine Providence. But, notwithstanding this persuasion, I have thought it my duty, in the following pages, to bear a decid- ed testimony against some of the most pernicious of those errors which prevail among us, and to stand forward as an advocate in behalf of Religion in general, and the Sacred Writings in particular. " If the foundation be destroyed, wnat can the righteous do ? >5 One might suppose* prior to experience, Infidelity was a thing of so gloomy and uncomfortable a nature, that no man of the least decency of character could be found, who would embark in the desperate scheme. But when we consider the many awful threatnings recorded in the Bible against persons of a certain description, the numerous passages op- farently liable to very serious objections, the natural dark- ness of the human understanding, the p,erverseness of the human will, and the imperious calls of contending passions, we need not be surprised, that a large proportion of irreli- gious characters, who have little to hope from divine mer- cy, and much to fear from divine justice, should be induced to embark in any scheme, that is calculated to afford them present indulgence, and free them from apprehensions of fu- ture danger. Thomas Paine's deistical principles may buoy up the minds of persons of this character, while health and prosperity smile upon them, but they will always fail us in reasons of adversity, and especially in the views of approach- IV PREFACE, ing dissolution.* Give me a Religion that will stand by me at all seasons in prosperity and adveisity, in sickness and health, in time md eternity. I would not give a rush for a Religion, which will only serve my turn when the sun- shine of worldly favor illumines my steps, and fail me when I stand in the greatest need of its supports. This is the case with Deism, as many have found to their extreme sorrow, when the eternal world drew near, and dawned up- on their astonished sight. More than one of the unhappy Mutineers, who have lately been executed on board His Ma- jesty's ships of war, found themselves in this awful predica- ment, as their fate approached. Corrupted by Paiqe's Age of Reason, when they conceived themselves free from dan- ger, they gloried in their shame ; but when the King of Ter- rors came to stare them in the face, they saw their folly, repented, believed, and trembled in the views of the eternal world. Different, indeed, was the conduct of many other of these unhappy men. some of whom were, apparently at least, equally regardless of life or of death. So we read of great multitudes of our fellow creatures, buth in our own and in a neighboring country, who, set free from the salutary re-' straints of Religion and the government of the Divine Be- ing, by a daring and uncontrolled spirit of Infidelity, destroy themselves and jjgj; [ u ' w the presence of the Almighty without dismay. t More reasonable and becoming surely is * " You have been used," said good Mr. Matthew Henry, a lit- tle before his death, to a friend, " to take notice of the sayings of dying men. This is mine, that a life spent in the service of GOD, and communion with him is the most comfortable and pleasant life that any one can live in thi3 world." t The general practice of dueling, among the higher ordeft of society in this country, is a sure indication, that a spirit of InJiRtlily is alarmingly gone abroad. A Christian fight a duel ! Impossible ! True valor forbids it. And* to mend the matter, upon the Lord's day too ! Still more impossible ! Every principle of his religion prohibits the impious deed.— How much pain of mind did not the conduct of a certain most respectable character give, to all the se- rious part of the nation, on a late unhappy occasion of this sort? Religion, good morals, sound policy, true patriotism, all forbad the unchristian rencounter.— Stake his life against the life of a -. Were we to act thus in common life, a state of confinement would be thought essentially necessary for our welfare and the public sood.— Can nothing be done, no measure taken, to put a stop to this infamous practice, this national opprobium ? Let those whom it concerns consider. PREFACE. Y ihe conduct of those who< when brought to a sense of their sin and folly, fear and tremble before this Dread Sovereign. This seems to have been the case with the late Lord P~ . This Nobleman, after he turned Deist, took every opportu- nity to shew his contempt of Religion. The clergyman and parishioners of the place, where his Lordship's seat in North- amptonshire stood, usually passed in sight of the house in their way to church. At the time of going and returning, he frequently ordered his children and servants into the hall, for the purpose of laughing at and ridiculing them. He pursued this course for some time, but at length drew near the close of life. Upon his dying pillow his views were al- tered! He found, that, however his former sentiments ; ght suit him in health* they could not support him in the hour of dissolution ; when in the cold arms of death, the ter- rors of the Almighty were heavy upon him. Painful re- membrance brought to view ten thousand insults offered to that God, at whose bar He was shortly to stand ; and con- science being strongly impressed with the solemnity of that day, he but too justly feared, the God he had insulted would then consign him to destruction. With his mind thus agitated, he called to a person in the room, and desired him, M to go into the library, and fetch the cursed book,"* meaning that which made him a Deist. He went ; but returned, saying he could not find it. The Nobleman then cried with ve- hemence, that t4 he must go again, and look till he did find it for he could not die till it was destroy ed." The person having at last met with it, gave it into his hands. It was no sooner committed to him, than he tore it to pieces, with mingled horror and revenge, and committed it to the flames. Having thus taken vengeance on the instrument of his own ruin, he soon after breathed his soul into the hands of his Creator** Affecting as is this example, that of a William Pope, of Bolton, in Lancashire, is much more so. At this place there is a considerable number of deistical persons, who assemble together on Sundays to confirm each other in their infideli- ty. The oaths and imprecations that are uttered in that meeting are too horrible to relate, while they toss the Word of God upon the floor, kick it round the house, and tread it * See Evan. Mag, for June, 1797, where it is declared this anecdote may be depended upon, as it came from the lips of a person who was present at the scene. j ft tl PREFACE. under their feet. This William Pope, who had been a steady Methodist for some years, became at length a profound Deist, and joined himself to this hellish crew. After he had been an associate of this company some time, he was taken ill, and the nature of his complaint was such, that he confessed the hand of God was upon him, and he declared he longed to die, that he might go fo hell ; many times pray- ing earnestly for damnation. Two of the Methodist preach- ers, Messrs Rhodes and Barrowclough, were sent for to talk and pray with the unhappy man, But he was so far from being thankful for their advice and assistance, that he spit in their faces, threw at them whatever he could lay his hands upon, struck one of them upon the head with all his might, and often cried out, when they were praying, Lord, do not hear their prayers I If they said. Lord, save his soul I He cried, Lord, damn my soul! often adding, My damnation is sealed, and 1 long to be in hell ! • in this way he continu- ed, sometimes better and sometimes worse, till he died. He was frequently visited by his deistical brethren during his illness, who would fain have persuaded the public he was out of his senses^; which was by no means the case. The writer of this account saw the unhappy man once, but nev- er desired to see him again Mr. Rhodes justly said, He was as full of the devil as he could hold. This melancholy business happened in the course of the present year, and made a great noise in the town awid neighborhood oi Bolton.* These are shocking instances of the dreadful effects of Infidelity upon the minds of our fellow-creatures, in those seasons when we stand in most need of support and conso- lation. If living witnesses for the truth and importance of Religion and the Sacred Writings! might have any consid- * Mr. Rhodes has since published an account of the sickness and death of this unhappy man in the Methodist Magazine for August, 1798, which is one of the most affecting on record. t rt becomes every objector to the Sacred Writings to reflect, that " the moral and natural evils in the world were not introduced by the Gospel ; why then must the Gospel be called' upon to account for them, rather than any other Relision or sect of philosophy ? If there never had been an Old Testament, never a New one, mankind would have been at le.nst as corrupt and miserable as they are at present. What harm then have the Old and the New Testament done to you, that you perpetually challenge thenrto account to you for the evil you suffer ? You dislike perhaps the story of Adam andEvjE. and can by no means digest the account of the Serpent's PREFACE, VH eration with such of my readers as are deistically inclined, 1 could produce many of the first characters of this age, from among all the contending denominations of Christians. The late Jacob Bryant, Esq. who is unquestionably one of the deepest inquirers into the original of things now living, and NO PRIEST, hath not only written a treatise profes- sedly to prove the authenticity of the New Testament, but hath also, in another of his learned investigations, made the following declarations in favor of these incomparable and invaluable writings : a This investigation" (a work written to prove that Troy never existed) k I more readily undertook, as it affords an excellent contrast with the Sacred Writings The more we search into the very ancient records of Rome or Greece, the greater darkness and uncertainty ensue None of them can stand the test of close examination. Upon a minute in- spection, all becomes dark and doubtful, and often inconsis- tent: but when we encounter the Sacred Volume, even in parts of far higher antiquity, the deeper we go, the great- er treasure we find. The various parts are so consistent, that they afford mutual illustration : and the more earnest- ly we look, the greater light accrues, and consequently the greater satisfaction. So it has always appeared Jo me, who Jiave looked diligently, and examined; and I trust i have not been mistaken,"* tempting, and prevailing against our first parents : very well ; let this account be laid aside, and what are you now the better? Is there not the same evil remaining in the world, whether you believe or disbelieve the story of the Fall ? And if so, what account do you pretend to give of it ? For if you pretend to any Religion, you are as liable to be called*to this account, as any professor or teacher of the Gospel. No body is exempt in this case, but the Jltheut ; and his privilege comer from hence, that he has no account to give of any thing ; for all difficulties are alike upon his scheme." Sherlock on Prophecy, p. 233. *-" When I was in camp with the Duke of Marlborough," says this truly learned and respectable man, in another place, u an offi- cer of my acquaintance desired me, upon my making a short ex- cursion, to take him with me in my carriage. Our conversation was rather desultory, as is usual upon such occasions : and among other things he asked me, rather abruptly, what were my notions about Religion. I answered evasively, or at least indeterminately, as hi enquiry seemed to proceed merely from an idle curiosity : and I did not see that any happ\ consequence could ensue from an expla- nation. However, some time aftervvards he made a visit to my Vlll PREFACE. Various similar testimonies have been adduced in the course of the following little work. Mr. Erskine's name is there mentioned with honour. But as he hath since come forward in a manner more direct and full in behalf of Reli- gion and the Sacred Writings, I cannot do the religious reader a greater pleasure, or render the deistical one a more important service, than by presenting him in this place, with the substance of the Speech which this celebrated Or- ator delivered upon the trial of Williams, in the Court of King's Bench, for publishing Thomas Paine's Age of Rea- sori) on the 24th of June, i797, before Lord Kenyon, and a Special Jury. " Gentlemen ! The Defendant stands indicted for having published this book, which I have only read from the obli- gations of professional duty, and which I rose from the read- ing of with astonishment and d»sgust. — For my own part, Gentlemen, I have been ever deeply devoted to the truths of Christianity, and my firm belief in the Holy Gospel is by no means owing to the prejudices of education (though I was religiously educated by the best of parents,) but arises from the fullest and most continued reflections of my riper years and understanding. It forms, at this moment, the greatest consolation of a life, which as a shadow, must pass away; house, and stayed with me a few days. During this interval, one evening he put the question to me again ; and at the same time ad- ded, that he should be really obliged, if I would give him my thoughts in general upon the subject. Upon this I turned towards him, and after a pause told him, that my opinion lay in a small com- pass : and he should have it in as compendious a manner, as the sub- ject would permit. Religion, I said, is either true or false. This is the alternative ; there is no medium. If it # be the latter — merely an idle system, and a cunningly-devised fable, let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die. The world is before us, let us take all due advantage, and choose what may seem best. For we have no pros- pect of any life to come : much less any assurances. But if Religion be a truth, it is the most serious truth of any with which we can possibly be engaged : an article of the greatest importance. It de- mands our most diligent enquiry to obtain a knowledge of it : and a fixed resolution to abide by it, when obtained. For Religion teaches us, that this life bears no proportion to the life to come. You see then, m> good friend, that an alternative of the utmost con- sequence lies before you. Make therefore your election, as you may judge best ; and Heaven direct you in your determination. — He told me that he was much affected with the crisis, to which I brought the object of enquiry : and I trust, that it was attended with happy consequences afterwards.'* PREFACE. IX and without it, indeed, I shouid consider my long coarse of health and prosperity (perhaps too long and too uninterrup- ted to be good for any man) only as the dust which the wind scatters, and rather as a snare than a blessing " This publication appears to me to be as mischievous and cruel in its probable effects, as it is manifestly illegal in its principles; because k strikes at the best, sometimes, alas ! the only refuge and consolation amidst the distresses and afflictions of the world. The poor and humble, whom it affects to pity, may be stabbed to the heart by it. They have more occasion for firm hopes beyond the grave, than those who have greater comforts to render life delightful, I can conceive a distressed but virtuous man, surrounded by children looking up to him for bread when he has none to give them, sinking under the last day's labor, and une- qual to the next, yet still looking up with confidence to the hour when all tears shall be wiped from the eyes of afflic- tion, bearing the burden laid upon him by a mysterious Providence which he adores, and looking forward'with ex- ultation to the revealed promises of his Creator, when he shall be greater than the greatest, and happier than the happiest of mankind. What a change in such a mind might not be wrought by such a merciless publication /"' ' But it seems, this is an Age of Reason^ and the time and the person are at last arrived, that are to dissipate the er- rors which have overspread the past generations of igno« ranee. The believers in Christianity are many, but it be- longs to the few that are wise to correct their credulity. Belief is an act of reases* and superior reason may, there- fore dictate to the weak,' " In running the mind along the long list of sincere and devout Christians, I cannot help lamenting, that Newton had not lived to this day, to have had his shallowness filled up with this new flood of light" 4i But the subject is too awful for irony. I will speak plainly and directly. Newton was a Christian ! Newton, whose mind burst forth from the fetters cast by nature up- on our finite conceptions— Newton, whose science was truth, and the foundation of whose knowledge of it was phi- losophy : not those visionary and arrogant presumptions, which too often usurp its name, but philosophy resting up- on the basis of mathematics, which, tike figures, cannot lie— Newton, who carried the line and rule to the utmost barri- ers of creation, and explored the principles by which, no doubt, all created matter is held together and exists." X PREFACE. * But this extraordinary man, in the mighty reach of his mind, overlooked, perhaps, the errors, which a minuter in- vestigation of the created things on this earth might have taught him, of the essence of his Creator.' a What then shall be said of the great Mr. Boyle, who looked into the organic structure of all matter, even to the brute inanimate substances, which the foot treads on ? Such a man may be supposed to have been equally qualified with Mr, Paine to look up through Nature to Nature's God. Yet the result of all his contemplation, was the most confirmed and devout belief in all which the other holds in contempt, as despicable and drivelling superstition.*' 8 But this error might, perhaps, arise from a want of due attention to the foundations of human judgment, and the structure of that understanding which God has given us for the investigation of truth.' " Let that question be answered by Mr. Locke, who was to the highest pitch of devotion and adoration, a Christian : Mr Locke, whose office was to detect the error- oi thiekiae,[ by going up to the fountains of thought, and to direct into the proper track of reasoning, the devious mind of man, by shewing him its whole process, from the first perceptions of sense to the last conclusions of ratiocination, putting a rein besides upon false opinion, by practical rules for the conduct of human judgment." * But these men were only deep thinkers, and lived ia their closets, unaccustomed to the traffic of the world, and to the laws which practically regulate mankind.* u (jertlemen ! in the place where we now sit to adminis- ter the justice of this great country, above a century ago, the never-to-be-forgotten Sir Matthew Hale presided ; whose faith in Christianity is an exalted commentary upoa its truth and reason, and whose life was a glorious example of its fruits in man, administering human justice with a wis- dom and purity drawn from the pure fountain of the Chris- tian dispensation, which has been, and will be, in all ages, a subject of the highest reverence and admiration." c But it is said by the Author, that the Christian Fable is but the tale of the more ancient superstitions of the world, and may be easily detected by a proper understanding of the mythologies of the Heathens. 9 " Did Milton understand those mythologies? Was he less versed than Mr. Paine in the superstitions of the world ? No ; they were the subject of his immortal song ; and though PREFACE. xi shut out from all recurrence to them, he poured them forth from the stores of memory rich with all that man ever knew, and laid them in their order as the illustration of that real and exalted faith, the unquestionable source of that fervid genius, which cast a sort cf shade upon all the other works of man : 44 He passed tbe bounds of flaming space. Where Angels tremble while they gaze ; He saw, till blasted with excess of light, I He closed his eyes in endless night." But it was the light of the body only that was extinguished \ the celestial light shone inward, and enabled him to justify the ways of God to man. The result of his thinking was Nevertheless not the same as the Author's. The mysteri-? dus incarnation of our Blessed Saviour (which this work blasphemes in words so wholly unfit for the mouth of a [Christian, or for tbe ear of a Court of Justice, that 1 dare not md will not, give them utterance) Milton made the grand inclusion of the Paradise Lost, the rest from his linished ( abours, and the ultimate hope, expectation, and glory of the vorld : — I J ' "A Virgin is his Mother but his Sire, The power of the Most High ; he shall ascend The Throne hereditary, and bound his reign* With Earth's wide bounds, his glory with the Heavens." Mr. E. next entered most forcibly and deeply into the Ev- deuces of Christianity, particularly those that were founded •nthat stupendous scheme of prophecy, which formed one jf the most unanswerable arguments for the truth of the Christian Religion. " It was not," he said» " the purpose of t©d to destroy free agency by overpowering the human * " Piety has found Friends in the friends of science, and true prayer Has flow'd from lips wet with Castalian dews. Such was thy wisdom, Newton, child-like sage ! Sagacious reader of the Works of God, And in his Word sagacious. Such too thine, Milton, whose genius had angelic wings, And fed on manna. And such thine, in whom Our British Themis gloried with just cause, Immortal Hale ! for deep discernment praisM, And sound integrity not more, than fam'd For sanctity of manners undefiPd. CowrER's Task, b, 3, XII PREFACE. mind with the irresistible light and conviction of revelation, but to leave men to collect its truths, as they were gradual- ly illustrated in the accomplishment of the divine promises of the Gospel. Bred as he was to the consideration of evi- dence, he declared he considered the prophecy concerning the destruction of the Jewish nation, if there was nothing else to support Christianity^ absolutely irresistible, The division of the Jews into tribes, to preserve the genealogy of Christ; the distinction or the irhe ofJudah, from which he was to come ; the loss ot that distinction when tbnt end was -accomplished , the predicted departure of the sceptre from Israel; the destruction of the temple of Jerusalem, which imperial magnificence in vain attempted to rebuild to dis- grace the prophecy ; the dispersion of this nation over the face of the whole earth ; the spreading of the Gospel through- out the world ; the persecutions of its true ministers, and the foretold superstitions which for ages had defiled its wor- ship." These were topics upon which Mr. Erskine expa- tiated with great eloquence, and produced most powerful effects on every part of the audience.* Lord Kenyon then, in addressing the Jury, among other important things, said, u I sincerely wish that the author of the work in question may become a partaker of that faith in revealed religion, which he has so grossly defamed, and may be enabled to make his peace with God for that disorder which he has endeavoured to the utmost of his power to in- troduce into society. We have heard to-day, that the light of nature, and the contemplation of the works of creation, are sufficient, without any other revelation of the divine will. Socrates, Plato, Xenophon, Tully— each of them in their turns professed they wanted other lights ; and know- ing and confessing that God was good, they took it for grant- ed the time would come when he would impart a farther revelation of his will to mankind. Though they walked as it were through a cloud darkly, they hoped their posterity would almost see God face to face. This condition of man- kind has met with reprehension to day. But 1 shall not pur- sue this argument, fully impressed with the great truths of Religion, which, thank Goo, I was taught in my early years to believe, and of which the hour of reflection and enquiry instead of producing any doubt, has fully confirmed me in." * Though T greatly admire the defcm ft of Mr. Erskinjs in this oration, I am not clear the prosecution can be justified upon the gen- nine principles of Christian liberty. PREFACE. xill He that feels net convection enough from these reason- ings and authorities to make him pause, at least, in his deis- ticai courses, is out of the reach of all ordinary means of conviction, and must be dealt with in some more fearful manner. I pray God his conscience may be alarmed as with thunder— that the arrows of the Almighty may stick fast within him— that his soul may feel the terrors of hell follow- ing after him— that like the unhappy person just mentioned, he may be made a monument of divine justice in the sight of all men— and that, like the celebrated Rochester, he may be, finally snatched as a brand from the burning by the pow- er of sovereign grace ! May that ft blood, which speaketh better things than the blood of Abel, 5 ' and on which he now profanely and insolently tramples> be applied to his soul by the energy of the eternal Spirit. And may there be joy in the presence of the Angels of God at his conversion, and heaven's eternal arches resound with hallelujah at the news of a sinner saved I Reader ! The author of this little book, which is here put into your hand, cannot help being extremely alarmed for the safety of his friends in this day of abounding Infidelity, when he considers the declaration of Christ, that, " Whoso- ever shall be ashamed of him, and of his words, in this adul- terous and sinful generation ; of him also shall the Son of man be ashamed, when he cemeth in the glory of his Fa- ther with the holy angels." It is impossible to add any thing to the weight of these words. The heart that is unappalled by them, is harder than the nether mill-stone, and incapable of religious melio- ration. When you have perused the pamphlet two or three times carefully over, if you think it calculated, in ever so sgaall a degree to impress the mind with conviction, have the goodness to lend it to your unbelieving neighbour, re- membering the words of St. James ; " Brethren ! if any of you do err frofc ih<-: truth, and one convert him, let him know, that he who converteth a sinner from the errour of his ways shall save a soul from death, and shall hide a mul- titude of sins/' If you are dissatisfie^jjith what is here advanced in fa- XIV PREFACE. tour of Religion and the Sacred Writings, by no means give up the cause as desperate, but do yourself the. justice to procure Bishop Watson's Jlpology for the Bible in answer to Thomas Paine, and his Jlpology for Christianity in answer to Mr. Gibbon. They are books small in size, but rich in val- ue. They discover great liberality of mind, much strength of argument, a clear elucidation of difficulties, and vast su- periority of ability on this question to the persons he under- took to answer. The best edition of the apology for the Bible, which is the more popular and seasonable work of the two, is four shillings; but an inferior one maybe had from any of the booksellers at the reduced price of one shilling. Considering the sceptical spirit of tne present age, and the danger young and inexperienced people are in of being seduced into the paths of irreligion, this, or some other an- tidote ought to be in every man's hand, who has any seri- ous concern, either for his own felicity, or that of his friends and neighbours. DAVID SIMPSON. Macclesfield, Sept. 12, 1797. k / ADVERTISEMENT TO THE SECOND EDITION. This edition of the Plea for Religion is enlarged with a considerable quantity of fresh matter, and is more than double the size of the former. The whole of the first edition is retained, with some tri- fling alterations, and several of its parts enlarged and improv- ed. The anecdotal additions, are many and important, and it is hoped, will be found to furnish a good degree of profitable amusement. Remarkable deistical conversions, with instances of unhap- py and triumphant dissolutions, are here also more numer- ous. This edition is also considerably extended in the religious and practical part, and, the author trusts, not without advan- tage, as a lively and experimental sense of divine things up- on the human mind is vindicated from the charge of enthusi- asm, and the vile aspersions of a world that lieth in wicked- ness. The prophecies concerning Christ, and his church in these latter days, are treated pretty much at large, with a view to demonstrate the divine authority of the Sacred Wri- tings: Other arguments for the truth and authenticity of the Scriptures* are suggested, the most common objections stat- ed and answered, and the whole rendered as concise and satisfactory as may be, Mr. Paine's objections to the Bible are particularly con- * Consult Simpson's Essay on the Authenticity of the New Tes- tament, in answer to Voynet and Evanson ; but more especially Jones' New and Full Method of settling the Canonical Authority of the New Testament, 3 vols, octavo : a most learned, able, valu- able, and decisive work, just re-printed by the University of Ox- ford, though written by a Dissenting Minister : an instance of liber- ality not always to be met with. u Can anv jrood thins: come out of Galilee ?V " w XVI ADVERTISEMENT, sidered, and brief answers returned. His abuse of the Sab- ered Writers is also noticed with the severity it deserves, and his ignorance and malignity exposed. r.idfcy extracts from oar most celebrated Poets are inter- spersed. This will be considered as an excellence by some, and an imperfection by others, The literary reader will call to mind, that several of the most valuable authors among the ancients have written in the same manner— " A verse may catch him, who a sermon flies, And turn delight into a sacrifice. "" A compendious account of the present state of Church- preferments is introduced, besides a general view of the Dis- senting congregations in this kingdom. The present state of the Methodist societies in Great Britain, Ireland, America, and the West Indies, is likewise noticed, with some account of the rise and meaning of that denomination of Christians. Some shameful instances of non-residence, patronage, and pluralities of livings, now in existence among the Bishops and Clergy of the land, are here detailed, and strongly rep- rehended. The Articles and Canons, the Liturgy, and other publick Offices of our Church, are reviewed, and in some respects, reproved. At the same- time, most of the defects in or:r ec- clesiastical frame are confirmed by the opinions of some of our most learned and respectable writers. If the author is thought severe upon the episcopal and clerical orders of men> let it be remarked, that Im esteems them all very highly in love for their office' sake, because he is persuaded it is of divine appointment; and that, if at any time he has given way to his indignation, and expressed himself in strong terms against these orders, it is never in- tended to affect any but the culpable part of them ; and that both the Prophets under the Old Testament dispensation, and Christ with hi3 apostles under the New, have done the same. We cannot follow better examples. 4 But, in a Plea for Religion and the Sacred Writings, where is the propriety of exposing the imperfections of the Church, with her Bishops and Clergy?' Because the undiscerning world in general, and our deisi- cal fellow-creatures in particular, constantly unite them to- gether, and wound the pure and immortal religion of Jesus ADVERTISEMENT. XV11 Christ, and the Holy Scriptures, through their sides : whereas they are things essentially different. What has the character and gospel of Christ to do with the treachery of Judas, the cowardice of Peter, the ambition of Jambs and John, the lukewarmness and worldly spirit of our Bishops and Clergy, or with the superstitions and secular appendages of the Church of Rome, the Church of England, or any other human establishment under heaven? They are things perfectly distinct. And if we mean to defend the gospel to any purpose, it must be the gospel alone, independent of every human mixture and addition. Corrupt churches and bad men cannot be defended. The best part of the book, in the opinion of the author, is that, where he has enlarged upon the excellence and utility of the Sacred Writings. He confesses he is anxious to re- commend them to the daily perusal of every man; because he is persuaded both our present peace and future welfare very much depend upon the practice. He trusts, therefore, if all the rest of the book is rejected with contempt, this will be attended to with peculiar seriousness. The reduction of the national religion to the pure stand- ard of the gospel, and the moral and religious reformation of all orders of men, are repeatedly insisted on, and with singular earnestness ; as what alone, in his judgment, can save us from impending ruin. This is done, because he is firmly persuaded, there can be no general spread of evan- gelical principles and practices, while the Hierarchy is in its present contaminated state, and the Bishops and Clergy continue in a condition so generally depraved. The good of his country is what he has exceedingly at heart, however much he may be mistaken in the means he thinks necessary to promote that end. The missions to the heathen are here spoken of with zeal and approbation. These noble efforts for the salvation of mankind he believes to be one reason among others, why, in the midst of abounding iniquity, our fate, as a nation, is for a season suspended.* * Is it not an instance of the most unamiable bigotry that ever was exhibited in a Christian country, that when such generous, disinter- ested, and noble efforts have been making for two or three years past by various denominations of men for the civilization and christian- ization of the South Sta islands, which are situated in the centre of 2* X V m ADVERTISEMENT. •The extravagances of the French governours are inciden- tally touched upon, and the viieness of their conduct, both towards their own people, and the neighbouring nations ex- posed.* He has taken the liberty of mentioning- a variety of books upon different subjects. Some of thesehe has particularly recommended ; others are only inserted among those of the same class. Young readers may find their advantage in this part of his treatise. Both believers and unbelievers, he trusts, will meet with something or another that will be useful to them. Whatev- er is conceived to be pernicious, they will .do well to reject, some hundreds of millions of gross idolaters, scarcely one Bishop or dignified Clergyman of the Church of England ; scarcely one Arian or Socinian congregation, those more opulent bodies of Dissenters / scarcely one Nobleman, and but very few rich Commoners, appear to have contributed a single shilling out of their ample revenues to- wards promoting this expensive and godlike design ?— The honour and blessedness of the glorious attempt is left to the poor ! — Is not such a conduct among our great ones speaking in the strongest of all language, that it is better the poor, miserable, benighted Heathen nations should continue in their present deplorable condition, than that they should be brought out of darkness into u the glorious lib- erty of the children of God," in any other way than that prescribed by them! Oh! shame to these several orders of men. What a curse has not bigotry ever been to mankind ? — u Master, we saw one casting out devils in thy name, and we forbade him, because he followed not us," said the selfish and party-spirited Apostles. ''Forbid them not," replied the benevolent and liberal-minded Saviour, " for there is no man that can work a miracfl^in my name, who will lightly speak evil of me." — 1 add, with the- Apostle, If Christ is preached, and souls saved, u I therein do rejoice, yea and will rejoice," whoever is the instrument. *The difference between the English and French in point of piety is more than once noticed in the following pages, I observe here still further, in honour of the brave Admiral Lord Nelson, that the very next morning after the victory, August 2, 1798, while all must have been yet hurry and confusion, he issued the following Memo- randum to all the Captains of his squadron : " Almighty God having blessed his Majesty's arms with victory, the Admiral mtenda returning Publich thanksgiving for the same at two o^clock this day, and he recommends every ship doing the same as soon as convenient." , Publick thanks were accordingly returned at the hour appointed. This solemn act of gratitude to Heaven, seemed to make a very deep impression uponthe minds of several cf the French prisoners, both officers and men. ADVERTISEMENT. XIX remembering that we are enjoined by a very high authority, 10 proye all things and bold fast that which is good. Several other miscellaneous matters are interspersed through the whole, which he wishes may be both profita- ble and pleasant:— utile diilci. If any of his clerical brethren are so far offended at the freedoms he has taken with his own order, or the establish- ed religion of his country, as to make a reply, he shall think himself at liberty to return an answer or otherwise, as he may judge expedient. So far as the moral and religious conduct of the Clergy is concerned, the best answer to his charges will be, to correct and amend what is amiss, go far as the durability of the ecclesiastical constitution of the country is in question, he would refer his indignant reader, to the prophetical declarations of the St. John' of the old Testament. Some repetitions will be found, and some mistakes dis- covered. The reader will have the goodness to excuse the former, and correct the latter. Two Appendixes are subjoined, the former of which con- tains some farther thoughts on a national reform, and the latter, the author's reasons for resigning his preferment id the religious establishment of the country, and declining any longer to officiate as a Minister in the Church of Eng- land. To the whole is added a copious Index, whereby every thing most important may be turned to without loss of time, If the author has advanced any thing that is wrong, un- charitable*' unchristian, or unbecoming his station, in the course of these strictures, he is heartily sorry for it, and wishes it unsaid, u Let him not, however, accept any man's persou, neither let him give flattering titles unto man; for he knows not to give flattering titles ; in so doing his Maker would soon take him away." It has been, therefore, his desire to speak the plain honest truth, as it appears to him without any man's favour, or fearing any man's displeasure,* *Kii)g George II. who was fond of the late Mr. Whiston, hap- pened to be walking with him one day, during the heat of his perse- cution, in Hampton Court gardens. As they were talking " upon this subject, his Majesty observed, that however right he might be in his opinions, it would be better if he kept them to himself." — u Is your Majesty really serious in your advice," answered the old XX ADVERTISEMENT. He makes.no question but a large number of good men are to be found both in the established Church and out of it. Even the most despised of sectarists, he conceives^ are not wholly destitute.* And, in his opinion, one such character is infinitely more inestimable, than a million of immoral par- sons, those most miserable and contemptible of all human beings, who contaminate every neighbourhood where they dwell ; or ever so large a body of mere literary Clergymen, man. " I really am, 11 replied the King. " Why then," said Whiston, " had Martin Luther been of this way of thinking, where would your Majesty have been at this time ?" " But why," rejoins the impatient reader, •* why speak so freely and openly upon all these publick abuses, at a time so critical as the present." Because I may never have another opportunity, and it is proper that somebody should speak. F©r the publick abuses specified in these papers, he conceives, must either be removed by the gentle hand of reform, or Divine Providence will take the matter into its own hand, and subvert them by the rough hand of a most implacable en- emy. I speak these things, under correction, and with the most benevolent wishes for the prosperity of my King and Country, and the universal spread of the Gospel of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. * The wise ones of this world would do well to call to mind, who it is that hath said, u That which is highly esteemed among men, is abomination in the sight of God." Luke xvi. 15. Compare 1 Cor. i. 26 — 28. Men, sects, and parties, which are held in the highest estimation by the world, are usually, perhaps universally, held in the lowest estimation by the Almighty ; and vice versa. The way to heaven prescribed by the Scripture, and the way to heaven prescribed by worldly-minded men, are as opposite to each other as the east to the west. The former saith, a Strait is the gate and narrow is the way which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it." The latter say, " Wide is the gate, and broad is the way that leadeth unto life, and many there be which go in thereat." Persons of this character are usually secure and confi- dent, determined and resolute, merry and jovial, and perceive little or no danger even when they are dancing blind-fold on the brink of destruction. I remember somewhere reading of a genius of this sort, who, turning all serious godliness into ridicule and contempt, de- clared there was no need of so much ado, for if he had but time to say three words, " Lord save me !" he did not doubt but he should go to heaven. Not long after, this same confident Gallio was riding a spirited horse over abridge, upon which he met a flock of sheep ; the horse took fright, leaped over the battlement into the river, where his rider was drowned, and the last three words he was heard to speak were, Devil— take — ALL, 'Tis dangerous to pro- yoke Cod ! ADVERTISEMENT- XXI however extolled and caressed by the world, who, bloated with pride and self-importance, are a disgrace to the lowly spirit of the Saviour of mankind. To every truly pious and consistent Christian, literate or illiterate, he would give the right hand of fellowship, and bid him God-speed in the name of the Lord, wherever he is found. Clerical bigots, however, of every description, he most cordially pities and despises. They are despicable animals. Swollen with an imaginary dignity, they are wise intheii own eyes, and pru- dent in their own sight, lording it over the poor of Christ's flock, and binding heavy burdens upon them, and grievous to be borne, which they themselves will not move with one of their fingers. Such characters whether found among Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Methodists, Quakers, or any other denomination of men, are the Scribes and Pharisees of the day, to whom the great and inflexible Judge of the world, in just and terrible language, exclaimed, u Ye ser- pents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the dam- nation of hell?" To the author of these papers the praise or dispraise of such men is almost equally indifferent. But a liberal-minded and benevolent soul, who embraces every human being in the arms of his charity, who rises superiour to the superstitious tribe of infallible doctors-— the genm irritabile vatum ? - who can pierce through the guise of hu- man distinctions, and trace religious excellence among all orders and descriptions of men, he would clasp to his bosom, make him room in his heart, and give him a place in the at- tick story of his affections. He loves a generous sou), a no- ble spirit, with whom he can hold sweet converse* on things *The third chapter of Malachi seems to me to contain the most emphatica! recommendation of religious conversation that ever was penned. Cicero, too, speaks with an air of indignation of men of talents meeting together, and spending all their time in milking the ram, or holding the pail : "Quasi vera clarorum virorum aut tacitos eongressus esse oporteat, aut ludicros sermoues, aut rerum eoiloquia ievionnn.' n Academ. Quasi : lib. 4. This brings to my mind an anecdote, which I have somewhere read concerning the immortal Locke, who, being invited by a cer- tain Nobleman to give the meeting to some of the most celebrated wits and scholars of the age, went in great expectation of enjoying a aigh intellectual repast. The-card table being introduced after dinner, contrary to his expectation, he retired pensive and chagrin- ed to the window. Inquiry being made if he was well, he replied^ XX11 ADVERTISEMENT. human and divine; trace the awful footsteps of a mysteri- ous Providence, ^ And justify the ways of God to man ;" while angels ministrant attend the enraptured strains. — w nodes cmiceque Deum /" From a melancholy dearth of such society, however, he is generally constrained to converse with the ancient and mod- ern dead, those first of human beings, who have left us the image of their souls reflected in their immortal volumes. Here, he sometimes seems to catch a ray of their genius ; to intermingle soul with soul; to taste the raptures of their sacred rage ; and to meditate unutterable things. Oh! for a spirit of burning, to refine these drossy natures ; il a muse of fire, J> to elevate his mind to their celestial strains ; and a seraph's wings to mount up to the blissful throng of the spir- its of just men made perfect, around the throne of the great Father of tha universe, and his Son, the ever-blest ! — Yet a little while, and these shadows shall flee away — these earth- ly tabernacles be taken down — these mortal bodies be cloth- ed with immortality— the church militant be changed into the church triumphant — and the infinite Majesty of Heav- en be seen without a veil, loved without a rival, and enjoy- ed without satiety through the long round of vast eternity ! DAVID SIMPSON. MACCLESFIELD, Jan. 1, 1799. u He had come to give the company meeting in full confidence of receiving an uncommon degree of satisfaction in the conversation of ^uch celebrated characters, and he must acknowledge he felt him- self hurt at the disappointment." The card-table was immediately withdrawn, and a rich flow of souls begun, to his no small gratifica- tion, A PLEA F#R RELIGION, &e Friends and Couktrymen : There are few ages of the world, but have produced various instances of persons, who nave treated the Divine dispensations, either with neglect or scorn. Of these, some have persisted in their folly to the latest period of their earthly existence ; while others have discovered their mistake in time, and both sought and found for- giveness with God. — In most ages too, there have been some, who have piously observed the man- ifestations of heaven ; who have cordially receiv- ed the Holy Scriptures as a revelation from on high : and who have built their everlasting ex- pectations upon the salvation which is therein re- vealed. The hopes of such persons have never been disappointed. If they have lived up in any good degree, to their religious profession, they have alvays been favoured with peace of mind, and strong consolation in life ; firm confidence in Christ, usually, at the hour of death ; and have frequently gone off the stage of time into eternity, "rejoicing in hope of the glory of God,' ; with unspeakable and triumphant joy. Examples of this kind, even among illiterate A PLEA TOR RELIGION nien, women, and chik^en. might be produced In numbers very considerable.— But how extremely different, most commonly is the last end of those person?, who have denied and scorned the reve- lations of Heaven; who have rejected the Sa- cred Writings ; and treated serous godliness with sneer and efftemgt r 1 — Nay it his frequently been known, that the first rate geniuses, and greatest men of their times s haveXtetft the world under much darkness of mind, full of doubts^ and fear- ful apprehensions concerning the Divine favour, owing to their being too deeply immersed in sec- ular, or literary pursuits ; to their living beneath their christian privileges : and spending too small a portion of their time in devout retirement, and religious exercises. Nothing, indeed can keep the life of God vigorously alive in the soul, but these exercises. Where they are either wholly neg- lected, or frequently interrupted, there the pow- er of religion languishes. Faith and hope, peace and love, joy in, and confidence towards God, grow weak; doubts and fears, disquietude of mind, and scruples of conscience prevail. The sun goes down, and sets, to this world at least, under a dark and cheerless cloud. — But where the humble believer in Christ Jesus, (the eyes of his understanding being enlightened, and his fears alarmed with a sense of danger,) lays aside every spiritual encumbrance, and the sin by •which he hath been often too easily overcome : where he resolutely breaks through every snare and lives to the great purpose for which we were all born ; where, with the illustrious phi- losopher and physician, Boerhaave, and- the em- AND THE SACRED WRITINGS- O inent statesman, Sir John Barnard, the Duke of Ormond, and Lord Capel * he spends a due pro- portion of every day in private prayer, medita- tion, and reading the sacred volume ; there, with these truly valuable men, he usually hath large enjoyment of the consolations of religion, and ^bounds in peace, «and hope through^the power of the Holy Ghost He goes through life, if not smoothly and usefully, at least contentedly * It was the custom of three of these great men, to spend an hour «very morning, in private prayer and reading the Holy Scriptures ; and of the fourth, to meditate half an hour every day upon eternity. This gave them comfort and vigour of mind to support the toil and fatigue of the day. Nay, we are told in the Life of the Duke of Ormond, that u he never prepared for bed, or went abroad ia-^, morning, till he had withdrawn an hour to his closet," We might mention a considerable number of similar instance?. John Lord Harrington, who died A. D. 1613, at the age of 22 years, was a young nobleman of eminent piety, and rare literary attain- ments. He vras an early riser, and usually spent a considerable part of the morning in private prayer, and reading the Sacred Wri- tings. The same religious exercise was also pursued both in the evening and at mid-day. Sir Harbottle Grimstone, Master of tHe Rolls, an eminent lawyer, a. just judge, and a person of large fortune, who lived in the last century, u was a very pious and devout man, and spent every day at least an hour in the morning, and as much at night, in prayer and meditation. And even in winter, when he was obliged to be very early on the bench, he took care to rise so soon that he had al- ways the command of that time, which he gave to those exercis- es." This brings to my mind the case of the late Colonel James Gar- diner, who was slain at the battle of Preston Pans, A. D. 1745. This brave man used constantly to rise at four in the morning, and to spend "his time till six in the secret exercises of devotion, read- ing, meditation, and prayer. And if at any time he was obliged to go out before six in the morning, he rose proportionably sooner ; so that when a journey, or march, has required him to be on horse- back by four, he would be at his devotions at furthest by two." The same holds true of General Sir William Waller^ who was as devout in the closet as he was valiant in the field. Let the reader mark well, that none of these religious persons were either Monks or Parsons, but men of great consideration in the world, who were engaged in the most active scenes of life. 4 A PLEA FOR RELIGION and happily. While, in the eyes of those per- sons, who boast of their superiority of under- standing, and freedom from vulgar prejudices, the Redeemer of the world becomes daily more and more contemptible ; and in the eyes'of the lukewarm Christian less and less desirable ; in the estimation of the devout and lively believer, who by Waiting, upon the Lord, renews his strength, the Son of God, in his person, offices, and work, appears with increasing affection, « the chiefest among ten thousand, and altogether love- ly." Being convinced of sin, and " justified by faith, he has peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God is shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost which is given unto him." He is " strengthened with might by His Spirit in the inner man, and Christ dwells in his heart by faith." " Being rooted and ground- ed in love, he comprehends with all saints, what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height, and he knows the love of Christ ;" though in- deed " it passeth knowledge." He is, moreover, " filled with all the" communicable "-fulness of God, and a peace passing understanding keepeth his heart and mind through Christ Jesus." " A Christian dwells, like Uriel, in the sun : Meridian evidence puts doubt to flight ; And ardent hope anticipates the skies.'' Yovsc. The language of the soul is, " Whom have 1 in heaven but thee, O God ! and there is none upon earth that I desire in comparison of thee." To do unto others as he would have them to do unto him, is the great law of his life, in all his dealings between man and man ; and whcrcinso- AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 5 ever he falls short of a full compliance with this royal statute, he laments and bewails his folly ; makes satisfaction according to the nature of the case ; flees to " the blood of sprinkling" for par- don; and returns with renewed vigour to the path of duty. -" Giving all diligence, he adds to his faith, virtue ; and to virtue, knowledge ; and to knowledge, temperance ; and to temperance, patience ^ and to patience, godliness ; and to god- liness, brotherly kindness ; and to brotherly kind- ness, charity," With zealous affection he culti- vates the holy tempers which were in Christ ; bowels of mercy, lowliness, meekness, gentleness, contempt of the w T orld, patience, temperance, long-suffering, a tender love to every human be- ing, bearing, believing, hoping, enduring all things. He " submits himself to every ordinance of man for the Lord's sake ; whether it be to the king as supreme ; or unto governours, as un- to them that are sent by him for the punishment of evil doers, and for the praise of them that do well." He pays all due respect unto men of ev- ery rank and degree. He loves with peculiar affection the whole brotherhood of believers in Christ Jesus. He so fears God as to depart from evil, and so honours the king as to be rea- dy, on every proper call, to sacrifice his life for the good of the publick. He endeavours to ac- quit himself w T ith propriety in every station, whether as master, servant, parent, child, magis- trate, subject, teacher, learner. In short, " what- soever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are of good report," to these he attends O A PLEA FOR RELIGION with the utmost diligence and assiduity. This & the Christianity, which the Son of God taught unto the world. # And he that is of this religion is, " my brother, my sister, and my mother," by what name soever he is distinguished and called, I do not say, however, that this is the religion of the great body of persons who call themselves Christians. Much otherwise. Many wha are so called are extremely immoral. Others are * Dr. Robertson, our celebrated historian, tells us, that "Chris- tianity is rational and sublime in its doctrines, humane and benefi- cent in its precepts, pure and simple in its worship." And even Mr. Paine is constrained to confers, that u Jesus Christ was a vir- tuous and amiable man ; that the morality which he preached and practised, was of the most benevolent kind ; that though similar sys- tems of morality had been preached by Confucius, and by some of the Greek philosophers many years before, and by many good men in all ages ; it has not been exceeded by any."— -Important con- cession ! Where is the propriety then of endeavouring to explode the Gospel t Thou art condemned out of thine own mouth I Lord Bolingbroke has made concessions similar to this of Paine ; — u No religion," says he, u ever appeared in the world, whose natu- ral tendency was so much directed to promote the peace and hap- piness of mankind, as Christianity. No system can be more simple and plain than that of natural religion, as it stands in the Gospel. The system of religion which Christ published, and his Evangel- ists recorded, is a complete system for all the purposes of religion, natural and revealed. Christianity, as it stands in the Gospel, con- tains not only a complete, but a plain system of religion. The Gospel is in all cases one continued lesson of the strictest morality,, of justice, of benevolence, and of universal charity." These are strange concessions from a professed Deist f And yet, strange as they certainly are, much the same have been made by Blount, Tindal, Morgan, Toland, Chubb, Rousseau, and most of our other real or pretended Unbelievers. The truth is, all these deistical gentlemen could approve the mo- rality, or some parts of the morality, of the New Testament, but they could neither understand nor approve the grand scheme of re- demption therein exhibited. Why ? Because u the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God ; they are foolishness unto him ; neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned," 1 Cor. ii. 14. — They were blind to all the glories of the Gospel scheme. They neither saw nor felt their need of such re- demption as is therein exhibited. What wonder then if they spent their lives in opposing its gracious designs 3 J A AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 7 guilty only of some particular vice. Some are decent in their general conduct, and pretty atten- tive to religious observances ; but yet total stran- gers to inward religion. Great sticklers for their own party, be it what it may, they harbour a strong aversion to all who dare to think for themselves, and presume to dissent from them in principle or practice. So remote are they from the character and experience of the above evan- gelical requirements, that they consider them as delusive and enthusiastick. Something of the form of godliness they have gotten, but they de- ny, and sometimes even ridicule the pow r er. Be this as it may, true religion is still the same ; and the above is a scriptural sketch of it, whether we will hear, or whether we w T ill forbear. So far too, are real Christians from being ashamed of this gospel-method of saving a lost world, that they make it their boast and song all the day through, " in the house of their pilgrimage," " I'll praise my Maker with my breath ; And when my voice is lost in death, Praise shall employ my nobler pow'rs : My days of praise shall ne 1 er be past, While life, and thought, and being last, Or immortality endures. " They experience its effect in raising them from the ruins of their fall. They lament with sin- cere contrition the sins and follies of their unre- generate state. They discover nothing but con- demnation, while they remain under the covenant of works. They flee for refuge to the only hope of sinful men : and consider themselves as the happiest of God's creatures, in having this plank thrown out, on which they are permitted 3 # 8 A PLEA FOR RELIGION to escape safe to land. In the mean time, they feel this religion makes them easy, comfortable and happy ; and seems adapted with consummate wisdom to-4hexr state and circumstances. u Soft peace she brings, "wherever she arrives, She builds her quiet as she forms our lives: Lays the rough paths of peevish nature ev'n, And opens in each breast a little heav'n." This is the portion of happiness, which the Gospel yields us while we live, and we have not the smallest fear that it will fail us when we die. On the contrary, we know, that " our light afflic- tion" in this world, u which is," comparatively, " but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory ;" and that, " if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens," 1 " Nothing on earth we call our own, But strangers to the world unknown, We all their goods despise ; We trample on their whole delight, And seek a city out of sight, A country in the skies." If then the religion of Jesus Christ be a delu- sion ; it is, at least, a happy delusion ; and even a wise man would scarcely wish to be undeceived. * " If there is one condition in this life more happy than another," says a great author, " it is surely, that of him, who founds all his hopes of futurity on the promises of the Gospel ; who carefully en- deavours to conform his actions to its precepts ; looking upon the great God Almighty as his protector here, his reward hereafter, and his everlasting preserver. This is a frame of mind so perfective of cuv nature, that if Christianity, from a belief of which it can on- ly be derived, was as certainly false as it is certainly true, one could help wishing that it might be universally received in the world. Mr. Pope has a declaration to Bishop Atterbury to the same pur- which is worthy of memorial. " The boy despises the infant, the man the boy, the philosopher both, and the Christian all." AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 9 He would rather be ready to say with the great Roman Orator, when speaking of the immortal- , ity of the soul : — " If in this I err, I willingly err ; I nor, while I live, shall any man wrest from me this errour, with which I am extremely de- lighted."* If we wish to exemplify these observations, it would be no difficult matter to produce various very striking instances of persons, as well from the Sacred Writings, as from the history of these latter ages, whose conduct and character have been conformable to the above representations. But as the Bible is in every one's hands, and may be consulted at pleasure, we will call the attention of the reader to a few instances of per- sons, who have been eminent in their way, dur- ing these latter ages only, and some of them> even in our own times. These may be Dying infi- dels — Penitent and Recovered Infidels — Dying Christians, who have lived too much in the spirit of the world — and Christians dying, either with great composure of mind, or, in the full assur- ance of faith.t * " Si hoc erro, lubenter erro ; nee mihi hunc errorenv, quo delec- tor, dum vivo, extorqueri volo." Mr. Addison also very properly saith, when speaking of the im- mortality of the soul ; u If it is a dream, let me enjoy it ; since it makes me both the happier and the better man." Spectator, No. t u There is nothing m history," says this elegant writer in anoth- er place, " which is so improving to the reader as those accounts which we meet with of the deaths of eminent persons, and of their behaviour at that dreadful season. I may also add, that there are no parts in history,, which affect and please the reader in so sensible a manner."— Spectator, No. 298. JO A PLEA FOR RELIGION I. EXAMPLES OF DYING INFIDELS, u The wicked is driven away in his own wickedness. "--Pror. xiv. 32. 44 Horrible is the end of the unrighteous generation."--Wis. iii. 19. 1. Mr. Hobbes was a celebrated Infidel in the last age, who in bravado, would sometimes speak very unbecoming things of God and his word. Yet, when alone, he was haunted with the most tormenting reflections, and would awake in great terror, if his candle happened only to go out in the night. He could never bear any discourse of death, and seemed to cast off all thought of it* He lived to be upwards of ninety. His last sen- sible words were, when he found he could live no longer, " I shall be glad then to find a hole to creep out of the world at." And, notwithstand- ing all his high pretension to learning and philos- ophy, his uneasiness constrained him to confess, when he drew near to the grave, that, " he was about to take a leap in the dark." — The wri- tings of this old sinner ruined the Earl of Ro- chester, and many other gentlemen of the first parts in this nation, as that Nobleman himself de- clared after his conversion. * What an amiable character was the heathen Socrates, when compared with this Infidel Philosopher ? Just before the cup of poison was brought him, entertaining his friends with an admirable discourse on the immortality of the soul, he has these words : " Whether or no God will approve my actions, I know not ; but this I am sure of, that I have at all times made it my endeavour to please him, and I have a good hope that this my endeavour will be accepted by him." Who can doubt, but the merits of the all-atoning Lamb of God were extended to this virtuous Heathen ? How few professed Chris- tians can honestly make the same appeal ? — Besides, Socrates seems to have had as firm a faith in a Saviour, then to come, as many of *hc most virtuous of the Israelitish nation. • AND THE SACREB WRITINGS. II 2. The account which the celebrated Sully gives us of young Servin, is out of the common way. " The beginning of June, 1623," says he, " I set out for Calais, where I am to embark, having with me a retinue of upwards of two hundred gentlemen, or who called themselves such, of whom a considerable number were real- ly of the first distinction. Just before my de- parture, old Servin came and presented his son to me, and begged I would use my endeavours to make him a man of some worth and honesty ; but he confessed he dared not hope, not through any want of understanding or capacity in the young man, but from his natural inclination to all kinds of vice. The old man was in the right : what he told me having excited my curiosity to gain a thorough knowledge of young Servin, I found him to be at once both a wonder and a monster ; for I can give no other idea of that as- semblage of the most excellent and most perni- cious qualities. Let the reader represent to himself a man of a genius so lively, and an under- standing so extensive, as rendered him scarcely ignorant of any thing that could be knoAvn ; of so vast and ready a comprehension, that he immedi- ately made himself master of what he attempt- ed ; and of so prodigious a memory, that he nev- er forgot what he had once learned ; he posses- sed all parts of philosophy and the'mathematicks, particularly, fortification and drawing. Even in theology he was so well skilled, that he was an excellent preacher, whenever he had a mind to exert that talent, and an able disputant for and against the reformed religion indifferently. He 12 A PLEA FOR RELIGION not only understood Greek, Hebrew, and all the languages which we call learned, but also the different jargons or modern dialects. He accent- ed and pronounced them so naturally, and so per- fectly imitated the gestures and manners both of the several nations of Europe, and the particular provinces of France, that he might have been ta- ken for a native of all or any of these countries ; and this quality he applied to counterfeit all sorts of persons, wherein he succeeded wonderfully. He was, moreover, the best comedian and great- est droll that perhaps ever appeared ; he had a genius for poetry, and wrote many verses; he played upon almost all instruments, was a perfect master of musick, and sung most agreeably and justly. He likewise could say mass : for he was of a disposition to do, as Avell as to know, all things ; nis body was perfectly well suited to his mind, he was light, nimble, dexterous, and fit for all exercises ; he could ride well, and in dancing, wrestling, and leaping, he was admired ; there are no recreative games which he did not know : and he was skilled in almost all the mechanick arts. But now for the reverse of the medal here it appeared that he was treacherous, cruel, cowardly, deceitful; a liar, a cheat, a drunkard, and a glutton ; a sharper in play, immersed in ev- ery species of vice, a blasphemer, an atheist ; in a word, in him might be found all the vices con- trary to nature, honour, religion, and society;; the truth of which he himself evinced with his latest breath, for he died in the flower of his age, in a common brothel, perfectly corrupted by AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 13 his debaucheries, and expired with a glass in his hand, cursing and denying God." It is evident from this extraordinary case, that " with the talents of an angel a man may be a fool." There is no necessary connection between great natural abilities and religious qualifications. They may go together, but they are frequently found asunder. 3. The honourable Francis Newport, who di- ed in the year 1692, was favoured 'both with a liberal and religious education. After spending five years in the University, he was entered in one of the Inns of Court. Here he fell into the hands of Infidels, lost all his religious impressions, commenced Infidel himself, and became a most abandoned character, uniting himself to a club of wretches who met together constantly to encour- age each other in being critically wicked. In this manner he conducted himself for several years, till at length his intemperate courses brought on an illness, which revived all his form- er religious impressions, accompanied with inex- pressible horrour of mind. The violence of his torments was such, that he sweat in the most pro- digious manner that ever was seen. In nine davs he was reduced from a robust state of health to perfect weakness ; during all which time his lan- guage was the most dreadful that imagination £ S nC T e - -, At ° ne t™e, looking" towards -he fire, he said, «Oh! that I was to lie and .ears T" ^ \° l w a hundred ^and •one led £ U h aSe the ( fa J our of God, and be re- penciled to him again! But it is a fruitless vain v.sh : millions of years will bring me no nearer 14 A PLEA FOR RELIGION to the end of my tortures than one poor hour* O eternity ! eternity ! Who can properly para- phrase upon the words — for ever and ever !" In this kind of strain he went on, till his strength was exhausted, and his dissolution ap- proached ; when, recovering a little breath, with a groan so dreadful and loud, as if it had not been human, he cried out, " Oh ! the insufferable pangs of hell and damnation !" and so died ; death settling the visage of his face in such a form, as if the body, though dead, was sensible of the extremity of torments. It may be much questioned, whether a more affecting narrative* was ever composed in any language, than the true history of this unhappy gentleman's last sickness and death. It is great- ly to be desired, that men of all denominations would give it a serious perusal. 4. Mr. William Emmerson was, at the same time, an Infidel, and one of the first mathemati- cians of the age. Though, in some respects, he might be considered as a worthy man, his con- duct through life was rude, vulgar, and frequent- ly immoral. He paid no attention to religious duties, and both intoxication and profane lan- guage were familiar to him. Towards the close of his days, being afflicted with the stone, he would crawl about the floor on his hands and knees, sometimes praying, and sometimes swear- ing, as the humour took him.t — What a poor * It has been sometimes called the second Spira. t This extraordinary man, by way of justifying his own irreligious conduct, drew up his objections to the Sacred Writings much in the way as Thomas Paine ; but it does not appear that they were ever laid before the publick, as Thomas Paine's have been. AND THE SACRED WRITINGS, 15 creature is man without religion ! Sir Isaac New- ton died of the same disorder, which was at- tended,' at -times, with such severe paroxysms, as forced out large drops of sweat that run down his face. In these trying circumstances, howev- er, he was never observed to utter any complaint, or to express the least impatience. What a striking contrast between the conduct of the In- fidel and the Christian! 5. Monsieur Voltaire, during a long life, was continually treating the Holy Scriptures with contempt, and endeavouring to spread the poison of infidelity through the nations. See, however, the end of such a conduct. In his last illness he sent for Dr. Trochin ■; who when he came, found Voltaire in the greatest agonies, exclaiming with the utmost horrour — I am abandoned by God and man. He then said, Doctor, / will give you half of what I and worth, if you will give me six months life. The Doctor answered, Sir, you cannot live six weeks. Voltaire replied, Then 1 shall go to hell, and you will go with me ! and soon after ex- pired. This is the Hero of modern Infidels ! Dare any of them say, — Let me die the death of Voltaire, and let my last end be like his ! Wonderful infat- uation ! This unhappy gentleman occupies the first niche in the French pantheon ! That he was a man of great and various talents, none can deny : but his want of sound learning and moral qualifications, will ever prevent his being ranked with the benefactors of mankind, by the wise and good. Such a Hero indeed is befitting a nation under judicial infatuation, to answer the wise ends 4 16 A PLEA FOR RELIGION of the Governour of the world. If the reader has felt himself injured by the poison of this man's writings, he may find relief from a wounded mind, by perusing carefully Findley's Vindication of the Sacred Books, from the Misrepresentations and Cavils of Voltaire ; and Lefanu's Letters of certain Jews to Voltaire. The hoary Infidel cuts but a very sorry figure in the hands of the sons of Abraham. Since the publication of the first edition of this little work, we have had an account of the last days of this extraordinary man by the Abbe Barruel, author of The History of the French Clergy. And it is so extremely interesting, that I will lay it before the reader in a translation, of that gentleman's own words, taken from his His- tory of Jacobinism, by the editor of the British Critick. " It was during Voltaire's last visit to Paris, when his triumph was complete, and he had even feared he should die with glory, amidst the acclamations of an infatuated theatre, that he was struck by the hand of Providence, and made a very different termination of his career. In the midst of his triumphs, a violent he- morrhage raised apprehensions for his life. — D'Alembert, Diderot, and Marmontel, hastened to support his*resolution in his last moments, but were only witnesses to their mutual ignominy, as well as to his own. Here let not the historian fear exaggeration. Rage, remorse, reproach, and blasphemy, all ac- company and characterize the long agony of the dying Atheist. His death, the most terrible ev- AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 17 er recorded to have stricken the impious man, will not be denied by his companions in impiety. Their silence, however much they may wish to deny it, is the least of those corroborative proofs, which might be adduced. Not one of the Soph- isters has ever dared to mention any sign given, of resolution or tranquillity, by the premier chief, ^ during the space of three months, which elapsed from the time he was crowned in the theatre, un- til his decease. ' Such a silence expresses, how great their humiliation was in his death ! It was in his return from the theatre, and in the midst of the toils he was resuming in order to acquire fresh applause, when Voltaire was warned, that the long career of his impiety was drawing to an end. In spite of all the Sophisters, flocking around him, in the first days of his illness, he gave signs of wishing to return to God whom he had so oft- en blasphemed. He calls for the priest, who ministered to him, whom he had sworn to crush, under the appellation of the Wretch* His dan- ger increasing, he wrote the following note to the Abbe Gaultier: — You had promised, Sir, to come and hear me. " 1 intreat you would take the trouble of calling as soon as possible,'' — Signed, Voltaire. Paris, the 26th Feb. 1778. A few days after this he wrote Ihe following declaration, in the presence of the same Abbe Gaultier, the Abbe Mignot, and the Marquis de * It had been customary during many years, for Voltaire to call our blessed Saviour— The Wretch. And he vowed that he would crush him. He closes many of his letters to his infidel friends with the same words— Crush the Wretch ! 18 A PLEA FOR RELIGION Villevieille, copied from the minutes deposited with Mr. Momet, notary, at Paris : " I, the underwritten, declare, that for these four days past, haying been afflicted with a vo- miting of blood, at the age of eighty-four, and not having been able to drag myself to the church, the Rev. the Rector of St. Surplice, having been pleased to add to his good works, that of send- ing to me the Abbe Gaultier, a priest ; I confes- sed to him ! and if it please God to dispose of me, I die in the Holy Catholick Church, in which 1 was born ; hoping that the divine mercy will deign to pardon all my faults. If ever I have scandalized the Church, 1 ask pardon of God and of the Church. Second of March, 1778." Sign- ed Voltaire ; in the presence of the Abbe Mig- not, my nephew, and the Marquis de Villevieille, my friend. After the two witnesses had signed this de- claration, Voltaire added these words, copied from the same minutes : — " The Abbe Gaultier, my confessor, having apprised me, that it was said among a certain set of people, I ' should pro- test against every thing I did, at my death ;' I declare I never made such a speech, and that it is an old jest, attributed long since to many of the learned, more enlightened than I am." Was this declaration a fresh instance of his former hypocrisy? for he had the mean hypoc- risy, even in the midst of his efforts against Christianity, to receive the sacrament regularly, and to do other acts of religion, merely to be able to deny his Infidelity, if accused of it. Unfortunately, after the explanations we have AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 19 seen him give of his exterior acts of religion, might there not be room for doubt ? Be that as it may, there is a publick homage paid to that religion in which he declared he meant to die, notwithstanding his having perpetually conspired against it during his life. This declaration is al- so signed by that same friend and adept, the Marquis de Villevieille, to whom, eleven years before, Voltaire was wont to write, " Conceal your march from the enemy, in your endeavours to crush the Wretch /" Voltaire had permitted this declaration to be carried to the Rector of St. Surplice, and to the archbishop of Paris, to know whether it would be sufficient. When the Abbe Gaultier return- ed with the answer, it was impossible for him to gain admittance to the patient. The conspira- tors had strained every nerve to hinder the chief from consummating his recantation ; and every avenue was shut to the priest, whom Vol- taire himself had sent for. The daemons haunt- ed every access ; rage succeeds to fury, and fury to rage again, during the remainder of his life. Then it was that D'Alembert, Diderot, and about twenty others of the conspirators, who had beset his apartment, never approached him, but to witness their own ignominy ; and often he would curse them, and exclaim : " Retire ! It is you that have brought me to my present state ! Begone ! I could have done without you all ; but you could not exist ^without me ! And what a wretched glory have you procured me !" Then would succeed the horrid remembrance of his conspiracy. They could hear him, the 4* 20 a PLEA FOR RELIGION prey of anguish and dread, alternately supplicat- ing or blaspheming that God, against whom he had conspired ; and in plaintive accents he would cry out, " Oh Christ ! Oh Jesus Christ !" And then complain that he was abandoned by God and man. The hand which had traced in ancient writ the sentence of an impious and reviling king, seemed to trace before his eyes, Crush then, do crush the Wretch. In vain he turned his head away ; the time was coming apace when he was to appear before the tribunal of Him whom he had blasphemed; and his physicians^ particularly Mr. Tronchin, calling in to administer relief, thunderstruck, retired, declaring that the death of the impious man was terrible indeed. The pride of these conspirators would willingly have suppressed these declarations, but it was in vain. The Mareschal de Richelieu flies from the bed- side, declaring it to be a sight too terrible to be sustained ; and Mr. Tronchin, that the furies of Orestes, could give but a faint idea of those of Voltaire."* * Diderot and D'Alembert also, his friends and companions in Infi- delity, are said to have died with remorse of conscience somewhat similar to the above. This account of the unhappy end of Voltaire, is confirmed by a letter from M. de Luc, an Eminent philosopher, and a man of the strictest honour and probity. Let the reader consult D'Alembert's account of the death of Vol- taire in a letter to the King of Prussia, and his Eulogium at Berlin, where it is partly denied ; but denied in such a way as to give strong reason to suppose his end was without honour. See King of Prus- sia's Works, Vol. 12, p. 140—152 ; and vol. 13, p. 517. Mr. Cowper, in his Poem on Truth, has alluded to the above cir- cumstances in the character of this arch-infidel : 14 The Frenchman, first in literary fame, (Mention him if you please ?— Voltaire— The same,) With spirit, genius, eloquence, supplied, Liv'd long, wrote much, laugh'd heartily, and died ; AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 21 6. Mr. Addison mentions a Gentleman in France who was so zealous a promoter of Infi- delity, that he had got together a select compa- ny 01 disciples, and travelled into all parts of the kingdom to make converts. In the midst of his fantastical success he fell sick, and was reclaimed to such a sense of his condition, that after he had passed some time in great agonies and horrours of mind, he begged those who had the care of bury- ing him, to dress his body in the habit of a Cap- uchin, that the Devil might not run away with it : and, to do further justice upon himself, he desired them to tie a halter about his neck, as a mark of that ignominious punishment, which in his own thoughts, he had so justly deserved. 7. The last days of David Hume, that cele- brated Infidel, were spent in playing at whist, in cracking his jokes about Charon and his boat, and in reading Lucian, and other ludicrous books. This is a consummatum est worthy of a clever fel- low, whose " conscience was seared as with a hot iron!" Dr. Johnson observes upon this impeni- tent death-bed scene — "Hume owned he had never lead the New Testament with attention. Here then was a man, who had been at no pains to inquire into the truth of religion, and had con- tinually turned his mind the other way. It was not to be expected that the prospect of death should alter his way of thinking, unless God should send an angel to set him right. He had The Scripture was his jest-book, whence he drew Bon-mots to gall the Christian and the Jew. An Infidel in healK* ; but what when sick ? Oh then, a text would touch him at the quick !" 22 A PLEA FOR RELIGION a vanity in being thought easy." Dives " fared sumptuously every day," and saw no danger : but —the next thing we hear of him is — " In hell he lifted up his eyes, being in torments !" # Mr. Gibbon says, " He died the death of a Philosopher !"t Bravo ! Bravo ! If Philoso- * It is much to be lamented, that a man of Hume's abilities should have prostituted his talents in the manner it is well known he did. With all his pretensions to philosophy, he was an advocate for adul- tery and suicide. The reader will find a sufficient answer to his sophistry in Home's Letters on Infidelity, Beattie's Essay on the Nature and immutability of Truth, in Opposition to Sophistry and Scepticism, and Campbell on the Miracles of Christ. See also s#me very just and striking reflections concerning Hume, in the Ec- lectick Review for February, 1808. Mr. Gibbon was one of the most respectable Deists of the present age, and more like Hume, in several respects, than any other of the opposers of Christianity. Very sufficient reasons, however, may be given for his infidelity, without in the least impeaching the credit of the evangelical system. Mr. Porson, in the preface to his Letters to Mr. Archdeacon Travis, after giving a very high, and, in- deed t just character of Mr. Gibbon's celebrated History, seems to account for his rejecting the gospel in a satisfactory manner, from the state of his mind. " He shews," says this learned Gentleman, u so strong a dislike to Christianity, as visibly disqualifies him for that society, of which he has created Ammianus Marcellinus presi- dent. I confess that I see nothing wrong in Mr. Gibbon's attack on Christianity. (1) It proceeded, I doubt not, from the purest and most virtuous motive. We can only blame him for carrying on the attack in an insidious manner, and with improper motives. He of- ten makes, when he cannot readily find, an occasion to insult our religion ; which he hates so cordially that he might seem to re- venge some personal injury. Such is his eagerness in the cause, that he stoops to the most despicable pun, or to the most awkward per- version of language, for the pleasure of turning Scripture into ribal- dry, or of calling Jesus an impostor. A rage for indecency per- vades the whole work, but especially the last volumes. — If the his- tory were anonymous, I should guess that these disgraceful obscen- ities were written by some debauchee, who, having from age, or accident, or excess, survived the practice of lust, still indulged himself in the luxury of speculation : and exposed the impotent im- becility, after he had lost the vigour of the passions." t Such are the opposers of Jesus and his Gospel ! — Let us see (1) This seems a culpable excess of candour amounting almost to indifference. AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 23 phers die in such a manner, may it be my lot to die like an old-fashioned and enthusiastick Chris- tian ! 8. Of all the accounts which are left us, of the latter end of those, who are gone into the eter- nal state, several are more horrible, but few so affecting as that which is given us, by his own pen, of the late all accomplished Earl of Ches- terfield. It shews incontestibly, what a poor creature man is, notwithstanding the highest pol- ish he is capable of receiving, without the knowl- edge and experience of those comforts, which true religion yields ; and what egregious fools all those persons are, who squander away their pre- cious time in what the world, by a strange per- version of language, calls pleasure. " I have enjoyed," says this finished character " all the pleasures of this world, and consequent- ly know their futility, and do not regret their loss. I appraise them at their real value, which, in truth, is very low ; whereas, those who have how this sneeriug antagonist of Christianity terminated his own mortal career. Eager for the continuation of his present existence^ having little expectation of any future one, he declared to a friend about twenty- four hours previous to his departure, in a flow of self-gratulation, that he thought only of a good life for ten, twelve, or perhaps twen- ty years. — And during his short illness, it is observable, that he nev- er gave the least intimation of u future state of existence. This in- sensibility at the hour of dissolution, is, in the language of scepti- cism, dying like a clever fellow, the death of a philosopher ! See Evan's Attempt to account for the Infidelity of Edward Gib- bon, Esq. Among all the numerous volumes that Mr. Gibbon read, it does not appear that he ever perused any able defence, or judicious ex- plication of the Christian religion. — Consult his xWemoirs and Diary written by himself. His conversion and re-conversion terminated in Deism : or rather, perhaps, in a settled indiiKsrence to all reli- gion. He never more gave himself much concern about it, 24 A PLEA FOR RELIGION not experienced, always over-rate them. They only see their gay outside, and are dazzled with their glare : but I have been behind the scenes. It is a common notion, and like many common ones, a very false one, that those who have led a life of pleasure and business, can never be ea- sy in retirement ; whereas, I am persuaded that they are the only people who can, if they have any sense and reflection. They can look back oculo irretorto (without an evil eye) upon what they from knowledge despise ; others have al- ways a hankering after what they are not ac- quainted with. I look upon all that has passed as one of those romantick dreams which opium commonly occasions; and I do by no means de- sire to repeat the nauseous dose, for the sake of the fugitive dream — When I say that I have no regret, I do not mean that I have no remorse ; for a life either of business, or, still more of pleasure, never was and never will be, a state of innocence. But God who knows the strength of human passions, and the weakness of human rea- son, will, it is to be hoped, rather mercifully par- don, than justly punish, acknowledged errours. I have been as wicked and as vain, though not so wise as Solomon : but am now at last wise enough to feel and attest the truth of his reflec- tion, that all is vanity and vexation of spirit. This truth is never sufficiently discovered or felt by mere speculation : experience in this case is necessary for conviction, though perhaps at the expense of some morality. " My health is always bad, though sometimes better and sometimes worse ; and my deafness AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 25 deprives me of the comforts of society, which other people have in their illnesses. — This you must allow, is an unfortunate latter end of my life, and consequently a tiresome one ; but I mgist own too, that it is a sort of balance to the tumul- tuous and imaginary pleasures of the former part of it. I consider my present wretched old age as a just compensation for the follies, not to say, sins of my youth. At the same time I am thank- ful that I feel none of those torturing ills, which frequently attend the last stage of life ; and I flatter myself, that I shall go off quietly, but I am sure with resignation. My stay in this world cannot be long. God, who placed me here, on- ly knows when he will order me out of it ; but whenever he does, I shall willingly obey his com- mands. I wait for it, imploring the mercy of my Creator, and deprecatiqg hisr justice. The best of us must trust to the former, and dread the latter. " I think I am not afraid of my journey's end ; but will not answer for myself, when the object draws very near, and is very sure. For when one does see death near, let the best or the worst people say what they please, it is a seri- ous consideration The divine attribute of Mer- cy, which gives us comfort, cannot make us for- get, nor ought it, the attribute of Justice, which must blend some fears with our hope. " Life is neither a burden nor a pleasure to tne ; but a certain degree of ennui necessarily at- tends that neutral state, which makes me very willing to part with it, when He who placed me here thinks fit to call me away. When I reflect, 26 A PLEA FOR RELIGION however, upon the poor remainder of my life, I look upon it as a burden that must every day grow heavier and heavier, from the natural pro- gression of physical ills, the usual companions of increasing years. My reason tells me, that I should wish for the end of it; but instinct, often stronger than reason, and perhaps often in the right, makes me take all proper methods to put it off This innate sentiment alone makes me bear life with patience ; for I assure you I have no farther hopes, but, on the contrary, many- fears from it. None of the primitive Anachor- ties in the Thehais could be more detached from life than I am. I consider it as one who is whol- ly unconcerned in it, and even when I reflect up- on what I have seen, what I have heard, and what I have done myself; I can hardly persuade myself that all that frivolous hurry and bustle, and pleasures of the world, had asy reality, but they seem to have been the dreams of restless nights. This philosophy, however, I thank G d, neither makes me sour nor melancholy : I see the folly and absurdity of mankind without indig- nation or peevishness. I wish them wiser, and consequently better than they are." # * Miscellaneous Works, vol. iii. passim. — The Letters of that cel- ebrated nobleman, which he wrote to his son, contain positive evi- dence that, with all his honours, learning, wit, and politeness, he was a thorough bad man, with a heart full of deceit and unclean- ness. Those Letters have been a pest to the young nobility and gentry of this nation. It may be questioned whether Rochester's Poems ever did more harm. This celebrated nobleman was ac- counted, not only the most polite and well-bred man, but the greatest wit of his time. Various Jeux oV> Esprit are accordingly han.led about, as having proceeded from him on different occasions. The two following, which contain an allusion to the Sacred Wri- tings, I will take the liberty of presenting to the reader. Chesterfield being invited to dine with the Spanish ambassador, AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 27 This is the life, these are the mortifying ac- knowledgements, and this is the poor sneaking end of the best bred man of the age ! Not one word about a Mediator ! He acknowledges, in- deed, his frailties; but yet in such a way as to extenuate his offences. One would suppose he had been an old Heathen philosopher, who had never heard of the name of Jesus; rather than a penitent Christian, whose life had abounded with a variety of vices. How little and how poor is man, in his most finished estate without religion ! Let us hear in what manner the lively Believer in Jesus takes his leave of this mortal scene : — " I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my depar- met the Minister of France, and some others. After dinner, the Spaniard proposed a toast, and begged to give his Master under the title of the sun. The French ambassador's turn came next, who gave him his under the description of the moon, Lord Chesterfield being asked for his, replied, " Your Excellencies have taken from me all the greatest luminaries of heaven, and the stars are too small for a comparison with my royal Master ; I therefore beg leave to give your Excellencies, Joshua !" The other instance is still more pertinent. The Earl being at Brussels, was waited on by Voltaire, who politely invited him to sup with him and Madame C . His Lordship accepted the invitation. The conversation happening to turn upon the affairs of England, " I think, my Lord," said Madame C " that the Parliament of England consists of five or six hundred of the best informed and most sensible men in the kingdom ?" — u True, Mad- ame ; they are generally supposed to be so, 1 ' — grave, the land of darkness and desolation. His soul just going to God who gave it : preparing itself to wing away unto its long home ; to enter upon an unchangeable and eternal state. When 1 was come up into his chamber, and had seated myself on his bed, he first cast a most wishful look at me, and then began, as well as he was able, to speak. — " Oh ! that I had been wise, that I had known this, that I had considered my lat- ter end.. Ah! Mr. , deaths is knocking at my door : in a few hours more I^shall draw my last gasp; and then judgment, the tremendous judgment ! how shall I appear, unprepared as I am, before the all-knowing, and omnipotent God ! How shall I endure the day of his coming!" When I mentioned among many other things, that strict holiness, which he had formerly so slightly esteemed, he replied with a hasty eager- ness : " Oh ! that holiness is the only thing I now long for. I have not words to tell you how highly I value it. I would gladly part with all my estate, large as it is, or a world to obtain it. Now my benighted eyes are enlightened, I clear- ly discern the things that are excellent. What is there in the place whither I am going but God. Or what is there to be desired on earth but religion ?" — But if this God should restore you to health, said I, think you that you should alter your former courses ? — " I call heaven and earth to witness," said he, " I would labour for holiness, as 1 shall sooj labour for life. As for riches and pleasure, and the applauses of men, I 32 A PLEA FOIf RELIGLOJNP account them as dross and dung, no more to my happiness than the feathdrs that lie on the floor. Oh! if the righteous Judge would try me once more ; if he would but reprieve and spare me a little longer; in what a spirit would I spend the remainder of my days ! I would know no other business, aim at no other end, than perfecting myself in holiness. Whatever contributed to that ; every means of grace ; every opportunity of spiritual improvement, should be dearer to me than thousands of gold and silver. But alas ! why do 4 amuse myself with fond imagina- tions? the best resolutions are now insignificant, because they are too late. The day in which I should have worked is over and gone, and I see a sad horrible night approaching, bringing with it the blackness of darkness for even Heretofore, woe is me ! when God called, I refused ; when he invited, I was one of them that made excuse. Now, therefore, I receive the reward of my deeds ; fearfulness and trembling are come upon me; I smart, and am in sore anguish already; and yet this is but the beginning of sorrows ! It doth not yet appear what I shall be; but sure I shall be ruined, undone, and destroyed with an everlasting destruction !" This sad scene 1 saw with mine eyes; these words, and many more equally affecting, I heard with mine ears ; and soon after attended the un- happy gentleman to his tomb.* * Extract of a Letter from Mr. Hervey to Beau Nash, Esquire, of Bath. If the stings, lashes, twinges, and scorpions of a guilty conscience are so horrible while we continue in the body, what must they be ANDtTHE SACllED WRITINGS. 33 11. Mr. Cumberland, in the Observer, gives m one of the most mournfii fales, that ever was re- lated concerning a gentleman of Infidel princi- ples, whom he denominates Antitheus. • "€ re- member him/ 5 says he, " in the height of his fame, the hero of his party ; no man so caress- ed, followed, and applauded. He was a little loose, his friends would own, in his moral char- acter, but then he was the most honest fellow in the world. It was not to be denied that lie was father free in his notions; but then he was the best creature living. I have seen men of the gravest characters wink at his sallies, because he was so pleasant and so well bred, it was impos- sible to be angry with him. Every thing went well with him, and Antitheus seemed to be at the summit of human prosperity, when he was suddenly seized with the most alarming symp- toms. He was at his country house, and (which had rarely happened to ' him) he at that time chanced to be alone ; wife or family he had none, and out of the multitude of his friends no one happened to be near him at the time of his at- tack. A neighbouring physician was called out when we are dislodged by death, and find that our damnation is sealed by the Judge Supreme ! Let the lost soul in Shakespeaie speak some little of future wo : " But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul ; freeze thy warm blood ; Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres ; Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end Like quills upon the fretful porcupine ; But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood." 94 A PLEA F0R RELIGION mf bed in the night, to come to him with all haste in his extremity. He*f#und him sitting up in his bed, supported by pillows, his countenance full ©f h*rr#r, his breath struggling as in the article of death, his pulse intermitting, and at times beat- ing with such rapidity, as could hardly be count- ed. Antitheus dismissed the attendants he had ab#ut him, and eagerly demanded of the physi- cian, if he thought him in danger. The physi- cian answered that he must fairly tell him he was in imminent danger. — " How so ! how so ! do you think me dying ?" — He was sorry to say the symptoms indicated death. Impossible ! you must not let me die : I dare not die : O doctor save me if you can." — Your situation, Sir, is such, that it is not in mine, or any other man's art to save you ; and I think I should not do my duty if I give you any false hope in these moments, which if I am not mistaken, will not more than suffice to set- tle any worldly or other concerns which you may have upon your mind. — " My mind is full of hor- ror/ 9 cried the dying man, "and I am incapable of preparing it for death." — He now fell into an agony accompanied with a shower of tears ; a cordial was administered, and he revived in a de- gree ; when turning to the physician, who had his fingers upon his pulse, he eagerly demanded of him, if he did not see that blood upon the foot curtains of his bed. There was none to be seen ; the physician assured him, it was nothing but the vapour of his fancy. — " 1 see it plainly," said Antitheus, "in the shape of a human hand: I have been visited with a tremendous apparition. As I was lying sleepless in my bed this night, I AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 35 • ♦'/ t##k up a letter #f a deceased friend to dissipate certain thoughts which made me uneasy. I be- lieved him to be a great philosopher, and was converted to his opinions : Persuaded by his argu- ments and my own experience, that the disorder- ly affairs of this evil world could not be adminis- tered by any wise, just, or provident being ; I had brought myself to think no such being could exist, and that a life, produced by chance, must terminate in annihilation, This is the reasoning of that letter, and such were the thoughts I was revolving in my mind, when the apparition of my dear friend presented itself before me ; and unfolding the curtains of my bed, stood at my feet, looking earnestly upon me for a considerable space of time. My heart sunk within me ; for his face was ghastly, full of horror, with an ex- pression of such anguish as I can never describe. His eyes were fixed upon me, and at length, with a mournful motion of his head — Alas, alas ! he cried, we are in a fatal error ! and taking hold of the curtains with his hands, shook them vio- lently and disappeared. — This I protest to you, I both saw and heard ; and look ! where the print of his hand is left in blood upon the curtains !" Antitheus survived the relation of this vision very few hours, and died delirious in great agon- ies. What a forsaken and disconsolate creature is man without his God and Saviour ! 12. Rousseau has the honour of the second place in the French Pantheon. He was born at Geneva ; and, at a proper age, was bound an apprentice to an artist. During his apprentice- 36 A PLEA FOR. RELIGION ship he frequently robbed his # master as welt%s other persons. Before his time was expired he decamped, and fled into the dominions of the king of Sardinia, where he changed his religion and became a Catholick. By an unexpected turn of fortune he became a footman ; in which capacity he forgot not his old habit of stealing. He is detected with the stolen goods ; swears they were given him by a maid servant of the house. The girl, being confronted with him, de- nies the fact, and, weeping, presses him to con- fess the truth ; but the young philosopher still persists in the lie, and the poor girl is drivenfrom her place in disgrace. Tired of being a servant man, he went to throw himself on the protection of a lady, whom he had seen once before, and who, he protests, was the most virtuous creature of her sex. The lady had so great a regard for him, that she call- ed him her little darling, and he called her mamma. Mamma had a footman, who served her besides, in another capacity, very much re- sembling that of a husband ; but she had a most tender affection for her adopted son Rousseau ; and, as she feared he was forming connections with a certain lady who might spoil his morals, she herself out of pure virtue took him— to bed with her ! — This virtuous effort to preserve the purity of Rousseau's heart had a dreadful effect on the poor footman, and so he poisoned himself. —Rousseau fell sick, and mamma was obliged to part with little darling, while he performed a journey to the south of France, for the recov- ery of his health. On the road he dines with a AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 37 gentleman, and lies with his wife. As he was returning back, he debated with himself wheth- er he should pay this lady a second visit or not ; but, fearing he might be tempted to seduce her daughter also, virtue got the better, and deter- mined the little darling to fly home into the arms of his mamma ; but, alas ! those arms were filled with another. Mamma's yirtue had prompted her to take a substitute, whom she liked too well to part with, and our philosopher was obliged to shift for himself. The reader should be told, that the little darling, while he resided with his mam- ma, went to make a tour with a young musician. Their friendship was warm, like that of most young men, and they were besides enjoined to take particular care of each other during their travels. They went on for some time together, agreed perfectly well, and vowed an everlasting friendship for each other. But the musician, being one day taken in a fit, fell down in the street, which furnished the faithful Rousseau with an opportunity of slipping off with some of his things, and leaving him to the mercy of the people, in a town where he was a total stranger. We never met with so much villainy as this in a youth. His manhood however was worthy of j it. He turned apostate a second time, was driv- en from within the walls of his native city of Geneva, as an incendiary, and an apostle of anar- chy and infidelity ; nor did he forget how to thieve. — At last the philosopher marries; but like a philosopher; that is without going to church. He had a family of children, and like a, kind philosophical father, for fear they should 38 FLEA FOR RELIGION want after his death, he sends them to the poor- house during his life-time ! — To conclude, the philosopher dies, and leaves the philosophress, his wife, to the protection of a friend ; she mar- ries a footman, and gets turned into the street. This vile wretch has the impudence to say, in the work written by himself, which contains a confession of these his crimes, that no man can come to the throne of God and say, I am a bet- ter man than Rousseau.* Notwithstanding the above unworthy circum- stances, it must be owned that Rousseau's wri- tings have great literary merit, but then they contain principles which might be expected from such a person. He had exhausted all the pow- ers of reasoning, and all the charms of eloquence in the cause of anarchy and irreligion. And his writings are so much the more dangerous, as he winds himself into favour with the unwary, by an eternal cant about virtue and liberty. He seems to have assumed the mask of virtue, for no other purpose than that of propagating, with more certain success, the blackest and most in- corrigible vice. This was the man and the writer whom the Constituent Assembly held up to the imitation and even adoration of the poor deluded French populace. He and Voltaire, who never could agree in life, are placed by each other's side in death and made the standard of French princi- ples and religion to all future generations. * The above account of this strange man is taken from his own Confessions, Peter Porcupine's Bloody Buoy,imd the accounts pub- lished at his death. AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 39 We have seen how Voltaire terminated his earthly career, we shall find Rousseau expiring with a he in his mouth, and the most impious appeal to the Divine Being, that was ever made hj mortal man. " Ah ! my dear, 55 said he to his wife, or mis- tress, just before he expired : " how happy a thing it is to die, when one has no reason for remorse, or self-reproach !" — And then addressing himself to the Almighty, he said, " Eternal Being ! the soul that I am going to give thee back, is as pure, at this moment, as it was when it proceed- ed from thee : render it partaker of thy feli- city !" These twelve examples are such as to give but little encouragement to any person, who has a proper concern for his own welfare, to embark, either in the atheistic or deistic schemes. In those cases, where conscience was awake, the un- happy men were filled with anguish and amaze- ment inexpressible. And in those cases where conscience seemed to be asleep, there appears nothing enviable in their situation, even upon their own supposition, that there is no after-reckon- ing. If to die like an ass be a privilege, I give them the joy of it ! much good may it do them ! May I die like a Christian, having a hope bloom- ing with immortal expectations ! Let us turn from these horrible instances of perverted reason, and take a view of some more promising scenes. (40) CHAR II. EXAMPLES OF PERSONS RECOVERED FROM THEIR INFI- DELITY. " If, sick of folly, I relent, he writes My. name is heav'n." 13. Charles Gildon, author of a book called the Oracles of Reason, was convinced of the fal- lacy of his own arguments against religion, and the danger of his situation by reading Leslie's Short Method with a Deist. He afterwards wrote a defence of Revealed Religion, entitled The Deist's Manual, and died in the Christian faith. 14. The late Lord Littleton, author of the History of Henry the Second, and his friend Gil- bert West, Esq. had both imbibed the princi- ples of Unbelief, and had agreed together to write something in favour of Infidelity. To do this more effectually, they judged it necessa- ry, first to acquaint themselves pretty well with the contents of the Bible. By the perusal of that book, however, they were both convinced of their error : both became converts to the religion of Christ Jesus : both took up their pens and wrote in favour of it ;* the former, his 06- * Athenagoras, a famous Athenian philosopher in the second cen- tury, had entertained so unfavourable an opinion of the Christian religion, that he was determined to write against it ; but upon an intimate inquiry into the facts on which it was supported, in the course of his collecting materials for his intended publication, he was convinced by the blaze of evidence in its favour, and turned his designed invective into an elaborate apology, which is still in be- ing. The above Mr. West, writing to Dr. Doddridge on the publica- tion of his Memoirs of Colonel Gardiner s ascribes his own conver- AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 41 servalions on the Conversion of St. Paul ; the lat- ter, his Observations on the resurrection of Christ ; and both died in peace, ision from a state of Infidelity, into which he had been seduced, to the care his mother had taken in his education. u I cannot help taking notice," says he, " of your remarks upon the advantage of an early education in the principles of religion, because I have myself most happily experienced it ; since I owe, to the early care of a most excellent woman my mother, that bent and bias to religion, which, with the co-operating grace of God, hath at length brought me back to those paths of peace from whence I might have other- wise been in danger of deviating for ever J" Dr. Johnson tells us, that " Lord Littleton, in the pride of juve- nile confidence, with the Jielp of corrupt conversation, entertained doubts of the truth of Christianity ; but he thought afterwards it was no longer fit to doubt, or believe by chance ; and therefore applied himself seriously to the great question* His studies being honest, ended in conviction. He found that religion was true, and, what he had learned, he endeavoured to teach, by Observations on the Conversion of St. Paul ; a treatise to which Infidelity has never been able to fabricate a specious answer." Two days previous to his dissolution, this great and good man addressed his Physician in these memorable word3 : " Doctor, you shall be my confessor. When I first set out in the world, I had friends who endeavoured to shake my belief in the Christian religion. I saw difficulties which stag- gered me, but I kept my mind open to conviction. The evidences and doctrines of Christianity, studied with attention, made me a most firm and persuaded believer of the Christian religion. I have made it the rule of my life, and — it is the ground of my future hopes," The conversion of the Rev. John Newton, late Rector of St. Ma- ry VVoolnoth, in London, is also extremely remarkable. He was born of religious parents, and brought up in his younger years in a religious manner. The impressions of this kind seemed to be strong and deep. At length, however, the admonitions of con- science, which, from successive repulses, had grown weaker and weaker, entirely ceased: he commenced Infidel; and for the space of many months, if not for some years, he does not recollect that he had a single check of that sort. At times he was visited with sick- ness, and believed himself near to death ; but he had not, like Mr. i aine in the same situation, the least concern about the consequen- ces. He seemed to have every mark of final impenitence and re- jection ; neither judgments nor mercies made the least impression on him. In this unhappy condition he continued a number of years, all the time improving himself under very unpropitious circumstances, in classical and mathematical learning. At the age of about twenty- 42 A PLEA FOE RELIGION 15. Sir John Pringle, one of the first charac* ters of the present age, though blessed with a religious education, contracted the principles of Infidelity, when he came to travel abroad in the world. But as he scorned to be an implicit be- liever, he was equally adverse to being an impli- cit unbeliever. He therefore set himself to ex- amine the principles of the Gospel of Christ, with all caution and seriousness. The result of his in- vestigation was, a full conviction of the divine ori- gin and authority of the Gospel. The evidence of Revelation appeared to him to be solid and* invincible ; and the nature of it to be such as demanded his warmest acceptance. 16. Soame Jenyngs, Esq. Member of Parlia.- ment for Cambridge, by some means had been warped aside into the paths of Infidelity, and con- tinued in this state of mind several years. Find* ing his spirit, however, not at rest, he was in- duced to examine the grounds upon which his unbelief was founded. He discovered his er- ror ; was led to believe in the Saviour of man- kind; and wrote a small treatise in defence of three or tweniy<4bu?, however, it pleased God to call him by his grace, u out of darkness" and delusion u into his marvellous light^* and, in due time, into u the glorious liberty of the children of God*" He lived for many years under the power and influence of religion, and was an eminent instrument of good to many thousands of souls by his preaching and writings. It is remarkable, that, in this case, also a religious education seem- ed to be £he remote means of his conversion, after all his wander- ings from the path of duty. An account may be seen at large, in his Letters to the Reverend Dr. Haweis, of this very extraordinary business. The Narrative is, at the same time, useful and entertaining. See also Newton's Life by Cecil, AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 43 the Gospel, entitled, A view of the internal Eviden- ces of Christianity ; a work worthy the perusal of every man who wishes to understand the ex- cellency of the religion he professes. 17. Doctor Oliver, a noted Physician at Bath, was a zealous unbeliever till within a short time of his death. Being convinced of his error, and the danger of his situation, he bewailed his past conduct with strong compunction of heart and gave up his spirit at last, in confident expectation of mercy from God, through the merit of that Saviour, whom, for many years, he had ridiculed and opposed. Oh !" said he, " that I could un- do the mischief which I have done ! I was more ardent to poison people with the principles of ir- religion and unbelief, than almost any Christian can be to spread the doctrines of Christ - " 18. General Dykern received a mortal wound at the battle of Bergen in Germany, A. D. 1759. He was of a noble family, and possessed equal abilities as a minister in the closet, and a gener- al in the field, being favoured with a liberal ed- ucation Having imbibed the principles of Infi- delity, by T some means or other, he continued a professed Deist, till the time he received his fa- tal wound. During his illness, however, a great and effectual change was wrought upon his mind by the power of divine grace, and he died in the full assurance of faith, glorying in the salvation of Jesus, and wondering at the happy change which had taken place in his soul ! # ' * See this extraordinary case more at large in De Coetlogon'j DU v me Treasury, p. 17. 6* 44 A PLEA FOR RELIGION 19. John, Earl of Rochester, was a grd&i man every way ; a great wit, a great scholar, a great poet, a great sinner, and a great penitent. His life was written by Bishop Burnet and his funeral sermon was preached and published by Mr. Parsons. Dr. Johnson, speaking of Burnet's Life of this nobleman, says, " The critick ought to read it for its elegance, the philosopher, for its argument, and the saint for its piety." His lordship \ it appears, had advanced to an uncommon height of wickedness, having been an advocate to the black cause of Atheism, and an encomiast of Beelzebub. He had raked too in the very bottom of the jakes of debauchery, and had been a satirist against religion itself. But when, like the prodigal in the Gospel, he came to himself, his mind was filled with the most ex- treme horror, which forced sharp and bitter in- vectives from him against himself;, terming him- self the vilest wretch on whom the sun ever shone; wishing he had been a crawling leper in a ditch, a link-boy, or a beggar, or had lived in a dungeon, rather than had offended God in the manner he had done. Upon the first visit of Mr. Parsons to him on May 26th, 1680, after a journey from the West, he found him labouring under great trouble of mind, and his conscience full of terror. The Earl told him — " When on his journey, he had been arguing with greater vigour against God and Religion, than ever he had done in his life-time before, and that he had been resolved to run them down with all the argument and spite in the world ; but like the great convert, St. Paul, AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 45 he found it hard to kick against God." At this time, however, his heart was so powerfully af- fected, that he argued as much for God and Re- ligion, as ever he had done against them. He had such tremendous apprehensions of the Di- vine Majesty, mingled with such delightful con- templations of his nature and perfections, and of the amiableness of religion, that he said,—-" I never was advanced thus far towards happiness in my life before : though upon the commission of some extraordinary sins, I have had some con- siderable checks and warnings from within ; but still I struggled w 7 ith them, and so wore them oflf again. One day, at an atheistical meeting in the house of a person of quality, I undertook to manage the cause, and was the principal dispu- tant against God and Religion ; and for my per- formances received the applauses of the whole company. Upon this my mind was terribly struck, and I immediately replied thus to myself, — ' Good God, that a man who walks upright, who sees the wonderful works of God, and has the use of his senses and reason, should use them to the defying of his Creator !' — But though this was a good beginning towards my conversion to find my conscience touched for my sins, yet it went off again : nay, all my life long I had a se- cret value and reverence for an honest man, and loved morality in others. But I had formed an odd scheme of religion to myself, which would solve all that God or conscience might force up- on me ; yet I was never well reconciled to the business of Christianity ; nor had I that rever- 46 A PLEA FOE RELIGION. ence for the Gospel of Christ which I ought to have had." This state of mind continued, till the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah was read to him, together with some other parts of the Sacred Scriptures ; when it pleased God to fill his mind with such peace and joy in believing, that it was remarka- ble to all about him. Afterwards he frequently desired those who were with him, to read the same chapter to him ; upon which he used to enlarge in a very familiar and affectionate man- ner, applying the whole to his own humiliation and encouragement. " O blessed God," he would say, " can such a horrid creature as 1 am be accepted by thee, who have denied thy being, and contemned thy power ? Can there be mercy and pardon for me ? Will God own such a wretch as I am ?" In the middle of his sickness he said still far- ther : — " Shall the unspeakable joys of heaven be conferred on me ? O mighty Saviour, never but through thine infinite love and satisfaction! O never but by the purchase of thy blood !" ad- ding — « that with all abhorrence he reflected up- on his former life — that from his heart he re- Eented of all that folly and madness of which he ad been guilty." He had a strong and growing esteem for the Sacred Scriptures, and evidently saw their divine fullness and excellency ;— " For having spoken to his heart, he acknowledged that all the seeming absurdities and contradictions fancied by men of corrupt and reprobate judgments, were vanished ; and the excellency and beauty of them appeared AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 41 conspicuously, now that he was come to receive the truth in the love of it," During his illness he had a hearty concern for the pious education of his children, wishing, * his son might never be a wit, one of those wretched creatures who pride themselves in abusing God and religion, denying his being or his providence ; but that he might become an honest man ; and of a true religious character, which only could be the support and blessing of his family." One of his companions coming to see him on his death-bed, he said to him : — " O remember that you contemn God no more. He is an avenging God, and will visit you for your sins ; and will, I hope, in mercy touch your conscience, sooner or later, as he has done mine. You and I have been friends and sinners together a great while, therefore 1 am the more free with you. We have been all mistaken in our conceits and opinions ; our persuasions have been false and groundless ; therefore I pray God grant you re- pentance." When he drew towards the last stage of sick- ness, he said, " If God should spare me yet a little longer time here, 1 hope to bring glory to j his name, proportionably to the dishonour I have done to him in my whole past life ; and particu- larly by my endeavours to convince others, and to assure them of the danger of their condition, i if they continue impertinent ; and to tell them how graciously God had dealt with me." And when he came within still nearer views of dissolution, about three or four days before it, he said, " I shall now die : but Oh ! what un A ELEA FOR RELIGION speakable glories do I see ! What joys, beyond thought or expression, am I sensible of ! I am assured of God's mercy to me through Jesus Christ! Oh! how I long to die, and to be with, my Saviour !" For the admonition of others, and to undo, as much as was in his power, the mischief of his former conduct, he subscribed the following Re- cantation, and ordered it to be published after his death t " For the benefit of all those whom I may have drawn into sin, by my example and encour- agement^ I leave to the world this my last de- claration ; which I deliver in the presence of the great God, who knows the secrets of all hearts, and before whom I am now appearing to be judged; That from the bottom of my soul I de- test and abhor the whole course of my former wicked life ; that I think I can never sufficiently admire the goodness of God, who has given me a true sense of my pernicious opinions and vil^ practices, by which I have hitherto lived with- out hope, and without God in the world; have been an open enemy to Jesus Christ, doing the utmost despite to the Holy Spirit of grace : and that the greatest testimony of my charity to such, is to warn them in the name of God, as they regard the welfare of their immortal souls, no more to deny his being or his providence, or despise his goodness : no more to make a mock of sin, or contemn the pure and excellent reli- gion of my ever-blessed Redeemer, through whose merits alone, I, one of the greatest of sin- AND THE SACRED WRITINGS, 49 ners, do yet hope for mercy and forgiveness. Amen,"* 20. We have an account of the conversion of another determined Deist to the faith of Christ, in six letters, from a Minister of the re- formed Church abroad, to John Newton, late rector of St. Mary Woolnorth, London. He was born of religious parents, was brought up at school and university for the ministry, became eminent for his literary attainments, but lost all his religion, and commenced Deist Proud of his abilities and attainments, and trusting solely to his reasoning powers, he disdained to think with the vulgar, and was too wise in his own es* teem to be instructed by Divine Revelation.— But w T hile he w:as unacquainted with God, he was guilty of secret impurities, and a stranger to peace. Like a ship in a storm, without rudder or pilot, he was hurried along by tumultuous passions, till he grew weary of life. In such a state of soul, and at such a crisis, the light of heavenly truth broke in upon his mind. The Lord spake and it was done. The storm was hushed. The man was powerfully and unex- * The case of Sir Duncomb Colchester, a magistrate in the coun- I ty of Gloucester, towards the close of the 17th century, was some- I what like this of Rochester. He vvas a gentleman of excellent parts, a generous spirit, and undaunted courage. Having, howev- er, spent many years in sundry extravagances, he was at length, by a long and painful sickness, brought to a very serious sense of the excellency of religion, and of his own great sin and fol- ly in the neglect and contempt of it He accordingly by way of ! .making some small reparation for the mischief he had done by his wickedness, drew up an address to his friends and the publick, i somewhat like to the above of Rochester, signed by divers witness- es, and caused it to be read in two neighbouring churches, and 9pread abroad among all his friends and neighbours through the country, as extensively as he was able. 50 A PLEA FOR RELIGION pectedly changed. The servant of sin became the servant of Christ ; and he now preaches with energy and success, the faith he laboured before to destroy.* 21. Captain John Lee, who was executed for forgery, March 4, 1784, became an Infidel, through reading the elegant, but sophistical wri- tings of David Hume. Deeply, however, did he repent his folly, when he came to be in distress- ed circumstances. " I leave to the world," said he, in a letter to a friend the night before his ex- ecution, " this mournful memento, that however much a man may be favoured by personal quali- fications, or distinguished by mental endowments ; genius will be useless, and abilities avail but lit- tle, unless accompanied by a sense of religion, and attended by the practice of virtue." 22. Another Gentleman, whose name is con- cealed out of delicacy to his connections, was de<- scended of a noble and religious family. His life was extremely irregular and dissolute, but his natural parts and endowments of mind so ex* traordinary, that they rendered his conversation agreeable to persons of the highest rank and quality. Being taken ill he believed he should die at the very beginning of his sickness. His friend with whom he had frequently disputed * Similar to this instance, in some respects, is the case of the Rev. Thomas Scott, late Chaplain of the Lock Hospital in London. <« I feel myself impelled to declare," says he, " that I once was not much more disposed to credit the Scriptures, than Mr. Fame : and having got rid of the shackles of education, was much Mattered by my emancipation and superior discernment. But twenty years, employed in diligently investigating the evidences and con. ems of the Bible, have produced in me an unshaken assurance that it i? tfcs word a/God. — Answer to Pained %Agz of Reason^ p* 23, AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 51 against the existence of God and the truths of revealed religion, came to visit him on the se- cond day after he was seized. He asked him how he did, and what made him so dejected ? u Alas P* said he, " are you so void of under- standing as to imagine I am afraid to die? Far be such thoughts from me. I could meet death with as much courage as I have encountered an enemy in the field of battle, and embrace it as freely as I ever did any friend whom I sincerely loved; for I see nothing in this world that is worth the pains of keeping. I have made trial of most states and conditions of life, I have continued at home for a considerable time, and travelled abroad in foreign parts. I have been rich and poor. I have been raised to honour and reversed in a high degree. I have also been exposed to scorn and contempt. I have been wise and foolish. I have experienced the differ- ence between virtue and vice, and every thing that was possible for a man in my station : so that J am capable of distinguishing what is real- ly good and praise-worthy, and what is not. Now I see with a clearer sight than ever, and discern a vast difference between the vain licen- jtious discourse of a Libertine, and the sound ar- gument of a true believer: for though the for- mer may express himself more finely than the latter, so as to puzzle him with hard questions and intricate notions, yet all amount to no more than the fallacy of a few airy repartees, which are never affected by sober Christians, nor capa- ble of eluding the force of solid reason. But now I know how to make a distinction between 7 52 A PLEA FOR RELIGION them ; and I wish from the bottom of my heart I had been so sensible of my error in the time of my health ; then I had never had those dread- ful foretastes of hell which I now have. Oh J what a sad account have I to give of a long life spent in sin and folly ! I look beyond the fears of temporal death. All the dread that you perceive in me arises from the near approach I make to an eternal death ; for I must die to live to all eternity." This unhappy Gentleman continued in this manner to bewail his past folly, Atheism and In- fidelity, for forty days, and then expired. His friend, however, took much pains with him to encourage his repentance, faith, and return to a proper state of mind ; the particulars of which would be too tedious to record in this place. At last, however, he was brought to entertain some hope, that the Redeemer of mankind would take pity on his deplorable condition, pardon his sins, and rescue him from that everlasting destruction which awaits all such characters. He told his friend, therefore, that if he departed with a smile, he might hope for the best concerning him j but if he should be seen giving up the ghost with a frown, there would be reason to fear the worst. This was about three o*clock in the afternoon, and he lived till four the next morning. A little before he expired he was heard to speak these words softly to himself — " Oh ! that I had possession of the meanest place in heaven, and could but creep into one corner of it." After- wards he cried out for several times together — " O dear ! dear ! dear ! dear !"— - and near a min- AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 53 ute before he expired, his friend perceiving him to look full in his face, with a smiling counte- nance — There we leave him till the resurrection morn,* 23. When Count Struensee, Prime Minister of the kingdom of Denmark, had been disgraced and imprisoned by his sovereign for certain mis- demeanors of which he had been guilty, he was brought from a state of Infidelity to a serious sense of his situation. He then declared, " The more I learn Christianity from Scripture, the more I grow convinced how unjust those objections are with which it is charged. 1 find for instance, that all what Voltaire says of the intolerance of Christians, and the blood-shedding caused by Christianity, is a very unjust charge laid upon re- ligion. It is easy to be seen, that those cruel- ties, said to be caused by religion, if properly considered, were the production of human pas- sions, selfishness and ambition, and that religion served in such case only for a cloak.— I am fully convinced of the truth of the Christian religion, and I feel its power in quieting my conscience, and informing my sentiments, I have examined it during a good state of health, and with all the reason I am master of, I tried every argument. * It is impossible for any man to say with certainty whether the change which seems to pass upon the human mind, upon these mel- ancholy occasions, is real and saving, or only apparent and delu- sive. We have known various instances, where every symptom of genuine repentance has been exhibited upon a sick bed, but no sooner has health returned, than they have returned to folly with accelerated speed ; fulfilling the old Popish distich ; " When the Devil was sick, the Devil a Monk would be : When the Devil got well, the Pevil a Monk was he !" 54 A PLEA FOR RELIGION I felt no fear, I have taken my own time, and I have not been in haste. I own with joy I find Christianity the more amiable, the more I get acquainted with it. 1 never knew it before. I believed it contradicted reason, and the nature of man, whose religion it was designed to be. I thought it an artfully contrived and ambiguous doctrine, full of incomprehensibilities. Whenev- er I formerly thought on religion in some serious moments, I had always an idea in my mind how it ought to be, which was, it should be simple* and accommodated to the abilities of men in ev- ery condition. I now find Christianity to be ex- actly so ; it answers entirely that idea which I had formed of true religion. Had I but former- ly known it was such, I should not have delayed turning Christian till this time of my imprison- ment. But I had the misfortune to be prejudic- ed against religion, first through my own pas- sions, but afterwards likewise by so many human inventions, foisted into it, of which I could see plainly that they had no foundation, though they* were styled essential parts of Christianity. I was offended when God was always represented to me as an angry, jealous judge, who is much pleased when he has an opportunity of shewing his revenge, though I knew he was love itself ; and am now convinced, that though he must pun- ish, yet he takes no kind of delight in it, and is rather for pardoning. From my infancy I have known but few Christians who had not scandal- ized religion by their enthusiasm and wickedness* which they wanted to hide under the cloak of piety. I knew indeed that not all Christians AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 55 were such, or talked such an affected language ; but I was too volatile to enquire of better Christ- ians after the true spirit of religion. Frequently I heard sermons in my youth, but they made no impression upon me. That without Christ there was no salvation, was the only truth which serv- ed for a subject in all sermons ; and this was re- peated over and over again in synonymous expres- sions. But it was never set in its true light, and never properly proved. I saw people cry at church*, but after their tears were dried up, I found them in their actions not in the least bet- ter, but rather allowing themselves in every transgression, upon the privilege of being faithful believers. — He said he observed in St. Paul a great genius, much wisdom, and true philosophy. The apostles write extremely well, now and then inimitably beautiful 7 , and at the same time with simplicity and clearness. — The Freethinkers ex- tol the fables of iEsop, but the parables and nar- rations of Christ will not please f hem ; notwith- standing they are derived from a greater knowl- edge of nature, and contain more excellent mor- ality. Besides they are proposed with a more noble and artless simplicity than any writings of the kind, among ancient or modern authors,'' 24. Count Brandt, the companion of Struen- see in guilt and misfortunes, with great freedom owned before me and others, that his imprison- ment was the means of setting his soul at liberty ; and he found his chains so little troublesome to him, that he would oftentimes take them up and kiss them. " For," said he, when I believed my- self to be free, I was a miserable slave to my 7 * 56 A PLEA FOR RELIGION passions : and now since I am a prisoner, truth and grace have set me at liberty." He pitied the miserable condition of those who were under the joke of unbelief and sin, which he himself had worn, and kept himself in it by reading de- istical writings. He mentioned, among the rest, the works of Voltaire, to whom he owed very little that was good. He said he had spent up- on his travels four days with his old advocate for unbelief, and had heard nothing from him but what could corrupt the heart and sound morals. He was very sorry for all this, but was much pleased that he had found a taste for the true Word of God; whose efficacy upon his heart, since he read it with a good intention, convinced him of its divine origin.* It is usually said, that example has a more powerful effect upon the mind than precept. None can deny that these are respectable ones. They are such as every Deist and Sceptic in the kingdom should well consider, before he ven- tures his salvation upon the justness of his own principles. If equal danger, or if any danger at- tend our embracing the Christian* scheme, the Unbsliever would be in a certain degree justified in with-holding his assent to that scheme : but as all the hazard is on his side of the question, and none on the other, language furnishes no words but infatuation and madness, to express the extreme folly of treating religion with levity, ridicule and contempt. * See Dr. Ue&$ History of Count Eae void Brandt, (57) CHAR III. EXAMPLES OF mflNG CHRISTIANS WHO HAD LIVED IN THE SPIRIT OF THE WORLD, " This shall ye have of My hand ; ye shall lie down in sorrow. — Isa. 1. 11. 25. Hugo Grotius is said to have possessed the brightest genius ever recorded of a youth in the learned world, and was a profound admirer, and a daily reader, of the Sacred Writings ; yet after all his attainments, reputation, and labour in the cause of learnings he was constrained at last to crjr out, " Ah L 1 have consumed my life in a laborious doing of nothing ! — I would give all my learning and honour for the plain integri- ty of John Urich !" This John Urich was a religious poor man, who spent eight hours of the day in prayer, eight in labour, and but eight in meals, sleep, and oth- er necessaries.* Grotius had devoted too much of his time to worldly company, secular business, and learned trifles ; too little to the exercises of the closet. u This is forsaking the fountain of living waters, and hewing out to ourselves broken cisterns, that can hold no water." 26. When Salmasius, who was one of the most consummate scholars of his time, came to the close of life, he saw cause to exclaim .bitter--" * Alfred the Great, King of England, who fought fifty-six battles with the Danes, many of which were gained by his own personal courage and great example, dedicated, with strict punctuality, eight hours every day to acts of devotion, eight hours to public af- fairs, and as many to sleep, study, and necessary refreshments 58 A PLEA FOR RELIGION ly against himself. " Oh } w said he, " I have lost a world of time ! time, the most precious thing in the world! whereof had I but one year more, it should be spent in David's Psalms and Paul's Epistles!" Oh! "Sirs," said he again to those about him, " mind the world less, and God more !" 27. Dr. Samuel Johnson,* whose death made such a noise a few years ago, was unquestionably one of the first men of the age, and a serious Believer in Jesus Christ for many years before his death. Mixing however, too much with men of no religion, his mind was kept barren of spirit- ual consolation, and he was grieviously haunted with the fear of death through his whole life. " The approach of death," said he to a friend, " is very dreadful. I am afraid to think on that which I know I cannot avoid. It is vain to look round and round for that help which cannot be had. Yet we hope and hope, and fancy that he who has lived to-day may live to-morrow." To another friend he said, " He never had a mo- ment in which death was not terrible to him." On another occasion he declared in company at Oxford, " I am afraid I shall be one of those who will be damned — -sent to hell, and punish* ed everlastingly." When this great man, how- ever, actually approached dissolution, " all his fears were calmed and absorbed by the preva- lence of his faith, and his trusts in the merits and propitiation of Jesus Christ." He was full of resignation, strong in the faith, joyful in hope ?Dr. Johnson's Lift by Boswell appears to me one of the most entertaining narratives in the English language. AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 59 of his own salvation, and anxious for the salvation of his friends. He particularly exhorted Sir Josh- ua Reynolds, on his dying bed, " to read the Bi- ble, and to keep holy the Sabbath-day." The last words he was heard to speak were, " God bless you !" 28. Baron Haller, a famous Swiss Physician, the delight and ornament of his country, was at the same time a great philosopher, a profound JDolitician, an agreeable poet, and more particular- y famous for his skill in botany, anatomy, and physic. During his last sickness he had the hon- our of a visit from Joseph, the late Emperor of Germany. Upon his death-bed, owing probably to the variety of his literary pursuits, the multi- tiplicity of his engagements, and the honours heaped upon him by the world, he went through sore conflicts of spirit concerning his interest in the salvation of the Redeemer. His mind was clouded, and his soul destitute of comfort. In his last moments, however, he expressed renew- ed confidence in God's mercy through Christ, and left the world in peace. 29. Sir John Mason, on his death-bed, spoke to those about him in the manner following : — " I have lived to see five princes, and have been Privy-counsellor to four of them. I have seen the most remarkable things in foreign parts, and have been present at most state transactions for thirty years together ; and I have learnt this af- ter so many years experience — That seriousness is the greatest wisdom, temperance the best physick, and a good conscience the best estate* And, were I to live again, 1 would change the 60 A PLEA FOR RELIGION court for a cloister : my privy counsellor's bustle for a hermit's retirement, and the whole life I have lived in the palace for an hour's enjoyment of God in the chapel."* 30. Philip the Third, King of Spain, when he drew near the end of his days, expressed his deep regret for a careless and worldly life in the following emphatical words :" — " Ah ! how happy would it have been for me had 1 spent these twenty-three years, that 1 have held my kingdom, in retirement !" 31. Cardinal Mazarine, one of the greatest statesmen in Europe, cried out a little before his death with astonishment and tears ; — " Oh ! my poor soul ! what will become of thee ? Whith- * James Earl of Malborough, who was killed in a battle at sea oil the coast of Holland, A. D. 1665, having a kind of presentiment of his own death, wrote to his friend Sir Hugh Pollard, a letter, of which the following is an extract :— u I will not speak ought of the vanity of this world ; your own age and experience will save that labour; but there is a certain thing that goeth up and down the world, called Religion, dressed and pretended fantastically, and to purposes bad enough, which yet by such evil dealing loseth not Its being. Moreover, God in his infinite mercy hath given us his Holy Word, in which, as there are many things hard to be under- stood, so there is enough plain and easy to quiet our minds, and di- rect us concerning our future being. 1 confess, to God and you, I have been a great neglector, arid 1 fear, deepiser of it. God, of his infinite mercy, pardon me the dreadful fault. But when I retired myself from the noise and deceitful vanity of the world, I found no comfort in any other resolution than that which I had from thence. I commend from the bottom of my heart, the same to your happy wse. Dear Sir Hugh, let us be more generous than to believe we die as the beasts that perish ; but with a christian, manly, brave reso- lution, look to what is eternal. I will not trouble you further. Shew this letter to my friends, and to whom you please. The only great God, and holy God, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, direct you $o a happy end of your life, and send us a joyful resurrection. So prays your true friend, "MALBOROUGH," AND THE SACRED WRITINGS, 61 er wilt thou go ? Were I to live again I would be a capuchin rather than a courtier." 32. George Villiers, the younger, Duke of Buckingham, was the richest man, and one of the greatest wits in the court of Charles II. ; and yet such were his vices and extravagances, that, before he died, he was reduced to poverty and general contempt In this situation, however, he seems to have been brought to a sense of his folly, and the danger of his condition, from the letter which he wrote to Dr. Barlow, of whom he had a high opinion,* on his death bed ; and which is well worth the attention of every man of pleasure and dissipation. " Dear Doctor, " I always looked upon you as a man of true virtue ; and I know you to be a person of sound judgment. For, however I may act in opposition to the principles of religion, or the dictates of reason, I can honestly assure you I had always the highest veneration for both. The world and I may shake hands, for I dare affirm we are heartily weary of each other. O Doctor, what a prodigal have I been of the most valuable of all possessions, — -Time! I have squandered it away with a persuasion it was last- ing : and now, when a few days would be worth a hecatomb of worlds, I cannot flatter myself with a prospect of half a dozen hours. " How despicable is that man who never prays * This appears in a very strong light from the anecdote which is recorded concerning the Doctor's preaching before King Charles the Second, and the Duke's severe address to him. 62 A PLEA FOR RELIGION to his God, but in the time of his distress ! In what manner can he supplicate that omnipotent Being of his affliction with- reverence, whom in the tide of his prosperity, he never remembered with dread ? Do not brand me with infidelity, when I tell you I am almost ashamed to offer up my petition, to the throne of grace ; or of im- ploring that divine mercy in the next world which I have so scandalously abused in this* Shall ingratitude to man be looked on as the blackest of crimes, and not ingratitude to God? Shall an insult offered to the king be looked on in the most offensive light ; and yet no notice be taken when the King of kings is treated with in- dignity an$ disrespect ? " The companions of my former libertinism would^carce believe their eyes, were you to shew them this epistle. They would laugh at me as a dreaming enthusiast, or pity me as a tim- orous wretch, who was shocked at the appear- ance of futurity. They are more entitled to my pity than my resentment. A future state may very well strike terror into any man who has not acted well in this life ; and he must have an un- common share of courage indeed, who does not shrink at the presence of God. " You see, my dear Doctor, the apprehensions of death will soon bring the most profligate to a proper use of their understanding. 1 am haunt- ed by remorse, despised by my acquaintance, and, I fear, forsaken by my God. There is nothing so dangerous, my dear Doctor, as extraordinary abilities. I cannot be accused of vanity now, by being sensible that I was once possessed of un- kXD THE SACRED WRITINGS. 63 common qualifications ; as I sincerely regret that I was ever blessed with any at all. My rank in life still made these accomplishments more conspicuous ; and, fascinated with the general ap- plause which they procured, I never considered about the proper means by which they should be displayed. Hence to purchase a smile from a blockhead, whom I despised, 1 have frequently treated the virtuous with disrespect ; and sported with the holy name of Heaven, to obtain a laugh from a parcel of fools, who were entitled to noth- ing but my contempt. Your men of wit, my dear Doctor, look on themselves as discharged from the duties of Re- ligion, and confine the doctrines of the gospel to people of meaner understanding; and look on that plan to be of a narrow genius who studies to be good. What a pity that the Holy Writings are not made the criterion of true judgment ! Fa- vour me, my dear Doctor, with a visit as soon as possible. Writing to you gives me some ease, I am of opinion this is the last visit I shall ever solicit from you. My distemper is powerful. Come and pray for the departing spirit of the jumhappy — Buckingham !"* .* This Nobleman is described to have been a gay, capricious per- son, of some wit, and great vivacity. He was the minister of riot, and counsellor of infamous practices ; the slave of intemperance, a pretended Atheist, without honour or principle, economy or discre- tion. At last, deserted by all his friends, and despised by all the world, he died in the greatest want and obscurity. It is of him that Mr. Fope says : " In the worst inn's worst room, with mat half bung, With floor of plaister and the walls of dung — Great Villiers lies : Alas ! how changM from him ; That life of pleasure and that soul of whim ! — No wit to flatter left of all his store .' 8 64 A PLEA FOR RELIGION 33. We have also an uncommon alarm given us in a Letter from another Nobleman, but whose name is concealed from motives of delica- cy, on his death-bed, to an intimate companion ; which no man can seriously read, and not find him- self deeply affected. I will produce it at length. No fool to laugh at, which he valued more ! There, victor of his health, his fortune, friends And fame, this Lord of useless thousands ends." Mr. Dry den describes this Nobleman as being — " A man so various, tint he seemM to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome : Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong ; Was every thing by starts, and nothing long •, But, in the course of one revolving moon, Was chymist, fiddler, statesman and buffoon : Then all for women, painting, rhyming, drinkiug ; Besides ten thousand freaks that died in thinking." Wentworth Dillon, Earl of Roscommon, cotemporary with Buck- ingham, was also a man of considerable learning and abilities, but a man of dissipation and licentious principles. He addicted him- self immoderately to gaming, by which he was engaged in frequent quarrels, and brought into no little distress. But however we may be disposed to play the devil when we are in no apparent danger, there is a time coming, when we shall see all things in a more seri- ous point of view. Accordingly, we are told, at the moment this merry Nobleman expired, he was constrained to utter, with an en- ergy of voice that expressed the most ardent devotion,— " My God, my Father, and my Friend ; Do not forsake me in the end !" Something like the case of Buckingham and Roscommon like- wise, was the last scene of John Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham, who died in the reign of George the First, if we may credit the linec inscribed by his own order on his monument — u Dubis, sed non improbus vixi. Incertus morior, non perturbatus. Humanum est nescire et errare. Christum adveneror, Deo confido. Ens Entium, miserere mei !" Sir Richard Steele hath given us another affecting confession oi a dying Infidel, in No. LXXXI. of the Guardian; and a humorous account of two other gentlemen of the same cast, in Nos. CXI. and CXXXV. of the Tatler, which the reader may consult at his pleas- ure. x AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 65 " Dear Sir, " Before you receive this, my final state will be determined by the Judge of all the earth. In a few days at most, perhaps in a few hours, the inevitable sentence will be past, that shall raise me to the heights of happiness, or sink me to the depths of misery. While you read these lines, I shall be either groaning under the agonies of absolute despair, or triumphing in fullness of " It is impossible for me to express the pres- ent disposition of my soul — the vast uncertainty I am struggling with ! No words can paint the force and vivacity of my apprehensions. Every doubt wears the face of horror, and would per- fectly overwhelm me, but for some faint beams of hope, which dart across the tremendous gloom ! What tongue can utter the anguish of a soul suspended between the extremes of infinite joy and eternal misery ? I am throwing my last stake for eternity, and tremble and shudder for the important event. "Good God! how have I employed myself! what enchantment hath held me ? In what de- lirium has my life been past ? What have I been doing, while the sun in its race, and the stars in their courses, have lent their beams, perhaps only to light me to perdition. "I' never awaked till now. I have but just commenced the dignity of a rational being. Till this instant 1 had a wrong apprehension of every thing in nature. I have pursued shadows, and entertained myself with dreams. I have been treasuring up dust, and sporting myself with the 66 A PLEA FOR RELIGION wind. I look back on my past life, and but for some memorials of infamy and guilt, it is all a blank — a perfect vacancy! I might have grazed with the oeasts of the field, or sung with the winged inhabitants of the woods, to much better purpose than any for which I have lived. And, Oh ! but for some faint hope, a thousand times more blessed had I been, to have slept with the clods of the valley, and never heard the Almigh- ty's fiat ; nor waked into life at his command ! " I never had a just apprehension of the sol- emnity of the part 1 am to act till now. I have often met deatli insulting on the hostile plain, and, with a stupid boast, defied his terrors \ with a courage, as brutal as that of the warlike horse, I have rushed into the battle, laughed at the glittering spear, and rejoiced at the sound of the trumpet, nor had a thought of any state beyond the grave, nor the great tribunal to which I must have been summoned ; Where all my secret guilt had been reveaPd, Nor the minutest circumstance conceaPd. It is this which arms death with all its terrors ; else I could still mock at fear, and smile in the face of the gloomy monarch. It is not giving up my breath ; it is not being for ever insensible, is the thought at which I shrink : it is the terrible, hereafter, the something beyond the grave, at which I recoil. Those great realities, which, in the hours of mirth and vanity, I have treated as phantoms, as the idle dreams of superstitious be- ings ; these start forth, and dare me now in their most terrible demonstration My awakened con- AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 67 science feels something of that eternal vengeance I have often defied. " To what heights of madness is it possible for human nature to reach? What extravagance is it to jest with death ! to laugh at damnation ! to sport with eternal chains, and recreate a joy- ful fancy with the scenes of infernal misery ! " Were there no impiety in this kind of mirth, it would be as ill-bred as to entertain a dying- friend with the sight of an harlequin, or the re- hearsal of a farce. Every thing in nature seems to reproach this levity in human creatures. The whole creation, man excepted, is serious : man, who has the highest reason to be so, while he has affairs in infinite consequence depending on this short and uncertain duration. A condemn- ed wretch may with as good a grace go dancing to his execution, as the greatest part of mankind go on with such a thoughtless gaiety to their graves. " Oh ! my friend, with what horror do I re- cal those hours of vanity we have wasted to- gether ? Return, ye lost neglected moments ! How should I prize you above the eastern treas- ures ! Let me dwell with hermits ; let me rest on the cold earth ; let me converse in cottages ; may I but once more stand a candidate for an immortal crown, and have my probation for ce- lestial happiness. Ye vain grandeurs of a court! Ye sounding titles, and perishing riches ! what do ye now sig- nify? what consolation, what relief can ye give? I nave a splendid passage to the grave ; I die in state, and languish under a gilded canopy ; I am 8* 68 A PLEA FOR RELIGION 4 expiring on soft and downy pillows, and am re- spectfully attended by my servants and physi- cians : my dependants sigh, my sisters weep ; my father bends beneath a load of years and grief ! my lovely wife, pale and silent, conceals her in* ward anguish; my friend, who was as my own soul, suppresses his sighs, and leaves me to hide his secret grief. But, oh t which of these will answer my summons at the high Tribunal? which of them will bail me from the arrest of death ? who will descend into the dark prison of the grave for me. "Here they all leave me, after having paid St few idle ceremonies to the breathless clay, which perhaps may lie reposed in state, while my soul, my only conscious part, may stand trembling be- fore my Judge. " My afflicted friends, it is very probable, with great solemnity, will lay the senseless corpse in a stately monument inscribed with,, Here lies the Great But could the pale carcase speak, it would soon reply ; False marble where ? Nothing hut poor and sordid dust lies here ! While some flattering panegyric is pronounced at my interment, I may perhaps be hearing my just condemnation^ a superior Tribunal; where an unerring verdict may sentence me to everlasting infamy. But I cast myself on God's absolute mercy, through the infinite merits of the Re- deemer of lost mankind. Adieu, my dear friend, till we meet in the world of spirits]" AND THE SACRED WRITINGS* 60 Nothing is so well calculated to convince us of the vast importance of living wholly under the Eower of the gospel, as seeing great and valuab- le men dying in such a low, sneaking and un- worthy manner, as many of the first characters of our world have been known to do. The cases of Grotius and Salmasius, of Johnson, and Haller, are mortifying instances. Great talents, great learning, great celebrity, are all utterly in- sufficient to constitute a man nappy, and give him peace and confidence in a dying hour. We know the promises of God are all yea and amen in Christ Jesus ; but if the promises are sure, and strongly animating to the proper objects of them, the threatenings of God are not less infallible, and at the same time are extremely alarming to the proper objects of them. Nothing within the compass of nature can enable a man, with the eyes of his mind properly enlightened, to face death without fear and dismay, but a strong con- scious sense, founded on scriptural evidence, that our sins are pardoned, that God is reconciled, and that the Judge of the world is become our friend (70) CHAP. IV. EXAMPLES OF PERSONS LIVING AND DYING, EITHER WITH CONFIDENCE, OR THE FULL ASSURANCE OF FAITH. u Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints," Ps. cxvi. 15. u Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his." Numb, xxiii. 10. 34. Joseph Addison, Esq. was a very able and elegant advocate for the Bible, in life and death. Just before his departure, having sent for a young Nobleman nearly related to him, who requested to know his dying commands — his answer was — " See in what peace a Chris- tian can die !" He spoke Avith difficulty, and soon expired. — Througn grace divine, how great is man ! Through divine mercy how stingless is death ! 44 He taught us how to live ; and, oh ! too high A price for knowledge, taught us how to die."* 35. Dr. John Leland, after spending a long and exemplary life in the service of the Gospel,, closed it with the following words : — " 1 give my dying testimony to the truth of Christianity^ The promises of the Gospel are my support and consolation. They, alone, yield me satisfaction in a dying hour. I am not afraid to die. The Gospel of Christ has raised me above the fear of death; for I know that my Redeemer liv- eth." 36. Monsieur Pascal was a great man every way, and one of the most humble and devout believers in Jesus that ever lived. The cele- * See Dr. Young's Conjectures on Original Compositions. X ANtf THE SACRED WRITINGS. 71 brated Bayle saith of his life, that " a hundred volumes 01 sermons are not worth so much as this single life, and are far less capable of disarm** ing men of impiety. The extraordinary humili- ty and devotion of Monsieur Pascal gives a more sensible mortification to the libertines of the age, than if one was to let loose upon them a dozen Missionaries. They can now no longer attack us with their favourite and darling objection, that there are none but little and narrow spirits, who profess themselves the votaries of piety and reli- gion : for we can now tell them, and boldly tell them, that both the maxims and practice there- of have been pushed on to the strongest degree, and carried to the greatest height, by one of the profoundest Geometricians^ by one of the most subtile Metaphysicians* and by one of the most solid and penetrating Geniuses that ever yet ex- isted on this earth."* 37. Olympia Fulvia Morata, was one of the earliest and brightest ornaments of the Refor- mation. She could declaim in Latin, converse in Greek, and was a critic in the most difficult clas- sics. But after it pleased God by his grace to open the eyes of her mind to discover the truth, she became enamoured of the Sacred Scriptures above all other books in the world, and studied them by day and by night, And when dissolu- tion approached, she declared she felt nothing but " an inexpressible tranquility and peace with *" "This great man, during some of the latter years of his life, spent his whole time in prayer, and in reading the Holy Scriptures ; and in this he took incredible delight." — Jesup's Lift of Pascal. In his " Thoughts on Religion" there is a fine expostulation with Unbelievers, -which ought most seriously to be attended to by every person of that description, 72 a plea For religion God through Jesus Christ."— Her mouth was full of the praises of God and she emphatically expressed nerself by saying* — " I am nothing but joy." 38. William, Lord Russel, delivered himself, just before his execution, in the strongest terms of faith and confidence. Besides many other things, he said : — " Neither my imprisonment nor fear of death have been able to discompose me in any degree. On the contrary, I have found the assurances of the love and mercy of God, in and through my blessed Redeemer, in whom I only trust. And I do not question but 1 am go- ing to partake of that fullness of joy, which is in his presence ; the hopes of which do so won- derfully delight me, that I think this is the hap- piest time of my life, though others may look up* on it as the saddest." 39. Charles the Fifth, Emperor of Germany, King of Spain, and Lord of the Netherlands, after having alarmed and agitated all Europe for near fifty years, retired from the world, and enjoyed more complete contentment in this situation than all his grandeur had ever yielded him. " I have tasted, said he, " more satisfaction in my solitude, in one day, than in all the triumphs of my for- mer reign ; and I find that the sincere study, pro- fession, and practice of the Christian religion, hath in it such joys and sweetness as courts are strangers to/t* * Louis, one of the late Dukes of Orleans, expressed the delight he found in piety and devotion in the following terms, which are somewhat similar to the above of Charles :— u I know by experi- ence, that sublunary grandeur and sublunary pleasure are deceitful ANB THE SACRED WRITINGS. 73 40. Oxenstiern was chancellor of Sweden, and one of the most able and learned men of his time, and yet he was not too great and too wise to be above being taught by the Sacred Writings. " After all my troubles and toilings in the world,' 5 says he," I find that my private life in the country has afforded me more contentment than ever 1 met with in all my public employments. J have lately applied myself to the study of the Bible^ wherein all wisdom, and the greatest delights are to be found, I therefore counsel you (the English ambassador) to make the study and prac- tice of the Word of God your chief contentment and delight ; as indeed it will be to every soul who savours the truths of God, which infinitely excel all worldly things." 41. Mr. Selden, the famous lawyer, whom Grotius calls, " the glory of the English nation," and vain, and are always infinitely below the conceptions we form of them. But, on the contrary, such happiness and such compla- cency may be found in devotion and piety, as the sensual mind has no idea of." Gustavus Adolpbus, the renowned King of Sweden, was also em- I inent for his piety towards God, and has been known to spend hours together in religious retirement. So too our excellent Al- fred. It is said likewise of his late Majesty King George II. that during i war time, he would constantly be in his closet between five and six ! o'clock in the morning, winter and summer, praying for the success of his fleets and armies. A remarkable instance of attention to the blessing of the Divine Being we have also in the conduct of the present truly valiant Ad- miral Lord Duncan. Previous to the late action on the coast of Holland, during the awful moments of preparation, he called his of- I ficers upon deck, and in their presence prostrated himself in prayer before the God of Hosts, committing himself and them, with the cause they maintained, to his sovereign protection, his family to his care, his soul and body to the disposal of his providence ; then- rising from his Itnees, he gave command to make the attack. 74 A PLEA FOR RELIGION was, as Sir Matthew Hale declared, " a resolved serious Christian, and a great adversary to Hob- bes 9 errors." He was generally considered as one of the most eminent philosophers, and most learned men of his time. He had taken a dili- gent survey of all kinds of learning, and had read as much perhaps as any man ever did ; and yet, towards the latter end of his days y he declared to Archbishop Usher, that aot withstanding he had been so laborious in his enquiries, and curious in his collections, and had possessed himself of a treasure of books and manuscripts upon all an- cient subjects; yet "he could rest his soul on none, save the Scriptures."^ — This is a perfect etriogium on the Sacred Volume. 42. Monsieur Claude was a very considerable man among the Protestants, who were driven out of France by Louis the Fourteenth, When he was taken ill he sent for the senior pastor of the church to whom in the presence of all his family he expressed himself thus : — " Sir, I was desirous to see you, and to make my dying de* claration before you. I am a miserable sinner be* fore God. I most heartily beseech him to shew me mercy for the sake of our Lord Jesus Christ. 1 hope he will hear my prayer, He has prom- ised to hear the cries of repenting sinners. I adore him for blessing my ministry. It has not been fruitless in his church ; it is an effect of God's grace, and 1 adore his providence for it." * This is equally true of that great philosophic!* soul, Marcilitts Ficinus, who was as learned a man as Italy ever produced. After he had read all good authors, he rested in the Bible a* the only book. AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 75 After pausing awhile, he added, " I have carefully examined all religions. None appear to me worthy of the wisdom of God, and capa^ ble of leading men to happiness, but the Christ- ian Religion. I have diligently studied Popery and the reformation. The protestant religion, 1 think, is the only good religion. It is all found in the Holy Scriptures, the Word of God. from this, as from a fountain, all religions must be drawn. Scripture is the root, the protestant religion is the trunk and branches of the tree. It becomes you all to keep steady to it." About a week before he died, with true patri- archal dignity, he sat up in his bed, and asked to speak with his son and family. " Son," said he, tenderly embracing him, " I am leaving you. The time of my departure is at hand." Silence and sobs, and floods of tears followed, each clasped in the other's arms. The family all tame and asked his blessing. # Most willingly," replied he, * ; will I give it you." Mrs. Claude kneeled down by the bed-side. " My wife," said he, " I have always tenderly loved you. Be not afflicted at my death. The death of the saints are precious in the sight of God. In you I have seen a sin- cere piety. I bless God for it. Be constant in serving him with your whole heart. He will bless you. I recommend my son and his family to you, and I beseech the Lord to bless you." To his son, who, with an old servant was kneel- ing by his mother, he said, among other things, " Son, you have chosen the good part. Perform your office as a good pastor, and God will bless you. Love and respect your mother. Be mind- 76 A FLEA FOR RELIGIOxV ful of this domestic. Take care she wants nor- thing as long as she lives. I give you all my blessing." & He afterwards said, at several times : " I am so oppressed that I can attend only to two of the great truths of religion, the mercy of Ged, and the gracious aids of his Holy Spirit." " I know whom I have believed, and I am persuaded he is able to keep that which I havq committed unto him against that day." — " My whole recourse is to the mercy of God ; I expect a better life than this."— " Our Lord Jesus Christ is my only righteous- ness." Thus died the venerable and inestimable John Claude, in the sixty-eighth year of his age, A. D, 1687. 43. The Rev. Samuel Walker, of Truro in Cornwall, was a minister of no ordinary rank in the church of Christ. His excessive labours, however, ruined his constitution, and he died at the age of forty-eight. When his dissolution drew near, after much former darkness, but the most assured confidence in God, he broke out to his nurse in this rapturous expression ; — " I have been upon the wings of the cherubim ! Heaven has been in a manner opened to me ! I shall soon be there !" — Next day to a friend who came to see him, he said, with a joy in his countenance more than words can utter : — " O my friend, had I strength to speak, I could tell you such news as would rejoice your very soul ! I have had such views of heayen! But I am not able to say more." J AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 77 44. The Rev. James Hervey is well known to have been an elegant scholar, and a believer in the Bible, with its most distinguished truths. When he apprehended himself to be near the close of life, and stood, as it were on the brink of the grave, with eternity full in view, he wrote to a friend at a distance to tell him what were his sentiments in that awful situation. "1 have been too fond," said he, " of reading every thing valuable and elegant that has been penned in our language, and been peculiary charmed with the historians, orators, and poets of antiquity : but were 1 to renew my studies, 1 would take my leave of those accomplished trifles ; I would re- sign the delight of modern wits, amusements and eloquence, and devote my attention to the Scrip- tures of truth. 1 would sit with much greater assiduity at my divine Master's feet, and desire to know nothing in comparison of Jesus Christ, and him crucified." After this, when his dissolution drew still nearer, he said to those about him : — " How thankful am 1 for death ! It is the passage to the Lord and Giver of eternal life. O welcome, welcome death ! Thou mayest w r ell be reckoned among the treasures of the Christian ; S To live is Christ, but to die is gain !' ' Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy' most holy and comfortable ' word ; for mine eyes have seen thy' precious ' salvation.' " 45. Dr. Leechman, late Principal of the Col- lege of Glasgow, at the close of life, thus ad- dressed the son of a worthy nobleman, who was designed for the church, and the early part of 78 A PLEA FOR RELIGION whose education had been much under the Doc* tor's eye/ " You see the situation I am in : I hare not many days to live : I am glad you have had an op- tunity of witnessing the tranquillity of my last moments. But it is not tranquillity and com- posure alone ; it is joy and triumph; it is com* plete exultation." — His features kindled, his Voice rose as he spake, " And whence/' says he, "does this exultation spring? — From that book (pointing to a Bible that lay on the table) — from that book, too much neglected indeed, but which contains invaluable treasures ! treasures of joy and rejoicing I for it makes us certain that * this mortal shall put on immortality. 9 w 46. The late Rev. William Romaine was a zealous and successful preacher of the gospel of Jesus, and adorned it by a suitable character *bove fifty years. In his last illness not one -retful or murmuring word ever escaped his lips. 44 1 have," said he, " the peace of God in my con- science, and the love of God in my heart. I knew before, the doctrines I preached to be truths, but now I experience them to be bles- sings. Jesus is more precious than rubies, and all that can be desired on earth, is not to be com- pared to him." He was in full possession of his mental powers to the last moment, and near his dissolution cried out, "Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty! Glory be to thee on high ± for such peace on earth, and good will to men." 55# * The Editor recommends to the reader's serious attention and perusal, the life of the late Rev. J. Newton, written by Mr. Cecil ; and also of the late Rev. Cornelius Winter, written by Mr. Jay. AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 79 These are glorious instances of the power of religion upon the human mind, in the most trying circumstances of nature. I know it is fashiona- ble for lukewarm and pharisaical Christians, who have " a form of godliness, but deny the power," and for sophisters of every description, to treat all such death-bed scenes as delusive and fanatical. I am not, however, ashamed to say, that dissolutions of the above description ap- pear to me honourable to religion, and desirable above all the enjoyments of the world. If this be enthusiasm, may I be the rankest enthusiast that ever existed. Such enthusiasts, thanks be to God, have appeared, more or less, in every age of the gospel-dispensation. They are in- creasing now in a considerable degree, and they shall abound more and more, maugre all the op- positions of Infidelity, and the cool moral har- angues of a secular and lukewarm Clergy. Large numbers of examples might be produced, of a similar kind, from those who lived before the rise of both methodism and puritanism, besides these we have mentioned ; but the only one I shall introduce here, by way of contrast to the death-bed scenes of Chesterfield, Voltaire, Ros- seau, and the other unhappy characters we have recorded, shall be that of the learned and excel- lent Bishop Bedell, that scourge of ecclesiastical corruption, that amiable pattern for prelates and clergyman, and that glory of the Irish hierachy. 47. After a life spent in the most laborious service of his Divine Master, when he appre- hended his great change to draw near, he called for his sons, and his sons 9 wives, and spake t© 9* 80 A PLEA FOR RELIGION them, at several times, as he was able, as nearly as could be recollected, in the following words : " I am going the way of all flesh : ' I am ready to be offered up, and the time of my departure is at hand. 9 Knowing, therefore, that ' shortly I must put off this tabernacle, even as our Lord Jesus Christ hath shewed me.' * I know also, that if this my earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, I have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens,' a fair mansion in the ' New Jerusalem, which com- meth down out of heaven from my God.' There- fore, to ' me to live is Christ, and to die is gain \ which increaseth my desire even now to depart, and to be with Christ, which is far better' than to continue here in all transitory, vain, and false pleasures of this world, of which I have seen an end. " Hearken, therefore, unto the last words of your dying father. ' I am no more in this world, but ye are in the world.' ' I ascend to my Fath- er and your Father, to my God and your God, through the all-sufficient merits of Jesus Christ my Redeemer ; who ever lives to make interces- sion for me ;' who is 8 a propitiation' for all my sins, and washed me from them all in his own blood; who is < worthy to receive glory, and honour, and power ; who hath created all things, and for whose pleasure thev are and were crea- ted.' " My witness is in heaven and my record on high, that J have endeavoured to glorify God on earth ! and in the ministry of the gospel of his dear Son, which was committed to my trust ; oc ke. and £uler, and Newton, were X J.UUlll^'< believers.]}; Where is the great misfortune, then, to the interests of religion, if lukewarm Ghriffr- ians of every persuasion betray the cause they pretend to espouse ; and if unbelievers of every description imagine a vain thing against the Re- deemer of mankind, and the Book which he hath # Washington was lately a living character, and generally allow- ed to be one-of the first warriors, the first of politicians, and the wor- thiest of men. This same gentleman is the delight of u ' an admiring and astonished world," and yet— hear it, O ye minute philosophers of degenerate Europe he was a Christian t t It is a pleasure to hear such men as the honourable Thomas (now Lord) Erskine, one of the first orators of the age, come boldly forward in favour of the Gospel of Jesus. " No man ever existed," says he, " who is more alive to every thing connected with the Christian faith than 1 am, or more unalterably impressed with its truths. — View of the Causes, See. p. 56. % We are well aware that the truth of Christianity cannot be established by authority. But if its truths cannot be so es- tablished ; neither can its falsehood. Indeed no man can be a competent judge, either of the truth or falsehood of the Gospel, who has not turned his attention to it for a considerable time with all seriousness of mind, and with a considerable share of literary infor- mation. We may experience its saving power* but we are ill quali- fied to defend its veracity* AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 91 caused to be written for our instruction. Noth- ing less than demonstration on the side of Infidel- ity should induce any man to resist the mo- mentum that these venerable names give in fa- vor of the gospel Many of them were the or- naments of human nature, whether we consider the wide range of their abilities, the great ex- tent of their learning and knowledge, or the pie- ty, integrity, and beneficence of their lives. These eminent characters, Bacon, Newton, Locke, Boyle, Ditton, Addison, Hartley, Little- ton, Woodward, Pringle, Haller, Jones, Boer- haave, Milton, Grotius, Barrington, and Euler,* in particular, firmly adhered to the belief of Christianity, after the most diligent and exact researches into the life of its Founder, the au- thenticity of its records, the completion of the prophecies, the sublimity of its doctrines, the pu- rity of its precepts, and the arguments of its ad- versaries. Here, you will remark, was no priest- craft These were all men of independent prin- * It is said of this great Christian philosopher, in the General Bi- ographical Dictionary, that few men of letters have written so much as he. His memory shall endure, continues his biographer, till sci- ence herself is no more. No geometrician has ever embraced so many objects at one time, or has equalled him, either in the variety or magnitude of his discoveries. He had read all the Latin classics, could repeat the whole JEneid of Virgil by heart ; was perfect mas- ter of ancient mathematical literature : had the history of all ages and nations, even to the minutest facts, ever present to his mind ; was acquainted with physic, botany, and chymistry ; was possessed of every qualification that could render a man estimable. Yet this wan, accomplished as he was, was filled with respect for Religion. His piety was sincere, and his devotion full of fervour. He went through all his Christian duties with the greatest attention. He loved all mankind, and, if ever he felt a motion of indignation, it was against the enemies of Religion, particularly against the declar- ed apostles of Infidelity. Against the objections of these he defend- ed Revelation in a work published at Berlin, in 1747, ' 10 * 92 A PLEA FOR RELIGION ciples, and the most liberal and enlarged minds. They investigated the pretensions of the gospel to the bottom ; they were not only satisfied with the justice of its claims, but they gloried in it as a most benevolent and god-like scheme :* and they all endeavored, if not in their oral discours- es, yet by their immortal writings, to recom- mend it to the general reception of mankind. It was their study in life, and their solace in death. CHAP. V. CAUSES OF INFIDELITY. Why then are so many of our fellow-creatures found to oppose, with such malignant virulence, what these great men have so successfully la- boured to establish ? The reason, in most cases, is obvious. They will not have this man to reign over them, because he is not to their taste. And they oppose the Bible, because it condemns their # Dr. Disney Alexander, a physician now living, was favored with a religious education, and brought up with a view to the church. By mixing with the world as he advanced in life, he lost his reli- gious impressions. At this time he began to read the writings of Messrs. Jebb, Lindsey, and Priestley, and became a confirmed So- cinian. In this state of mind, he met with the writings of Helveti- us and Voltaire. He read them with avidity, and it was not long before he commenced Deist. In this state of mind he continued some years, applauding his own superior discernment, and triumph- ing in his boasted freedom from the shackles of the gospel. Neck- er's book on the Importance of Religious Opinions, however, falling accidentally into his hands, the fame of the author induced him to read it* Here his Infidelity received a shock ; his mind underwent another change ; and he was partly brought back to Religion. Some months after this again, Paley's Evidences of Christianity were recommended to him. He bought the book. He read it ea- gerly twice over in a little time with great care. He was convinc- ed — and is now a zealous and happy Christian. This is his own account published in the Arminian Magazine, AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 93 practice. For if Jesus is indeed the only Saviour of mankind, and if the declarations of Scripture are at all to be regarded, their situation is despe- rate, and they cannot escape the condemnation which is therein denounced against all such char- acters. Other reasons, however, may be given for such a preposterous conduct. Abundance of men are so neglected at first in their religious education, and when grown up to maturity ahd immersed in the pleasures and pursuits of life, that they never give themselves leisure to exam- ine into the foundation of religion. They are as inattentive < to it, as if it was none of their con- cern. This seems to have been the case with the learned Dr. Halloy. For when he was throwing out, upon a time, some indecent reflec- tions against Christianity, his friend Sir Isaac Newton stopt him short, and addressed him in these, or the like words, which imply that this great astronomer had employed his life in study- ing only the book of nature : — " Dr. Halley, I am always glad to hear you, when you speak about astronomy, or other parts of the mathematics, because that is a subject you have studied, and well understand : but you should not talk of Christianity, for you have not studied it : I have ; and am certain you know nothing of the mat- ter."* Many other persons, possessed of some discern- ment, observe the hypocrisy of several of the greatest pretenders to religion : they see them * See the Lift of Mr. Emlyn for this anecdote. There is a suffi- cient account of the reasons for Dr. Halley' s infidelity in Goadby's British Biography^ vol, viii. p. 37. 94 A PLEA FOR RELIGION no better, and scarce ever so good as some who make less pretensions ; and this becomes an in- superable offence to them. If these discerning men, however, would attend more to their own conduct, and less to the misconduct of others, it would be much happier for them, and more to their honour. Can any thing be more unreason- able than that the gospel should be made an- swerable for all the weaknesses, vices, and follies of its advocates ? Will philosophy endure to be tried by this test ? The fact is, truth is a stub- born thing, and does not fluctuate with the vary- ing whims and opinions of men. Every person must give an account of himself unto God. Hy- pocrites have no encouragement from the Bi- ble. Why should any man, therefore, make their hypocrisy an objection to that Bible ? Let the blame fall where it belongs. The fate of such persons is fixed by the Judge of the world himself. Their false pretensions are utterly disclaimed by him. " Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the king- dom of heaven ; but he that doeth the w r ill of my Father which is in heaven. Many shall say unto me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name, and in thy name cast out devils, and in thy name done many wonder- ful works ; but then will I profess unto them, I never knew you ; depart from me, all you that work iniquity." The weakness, folly, and enthusiasm ; the noise and nonsense of the Zealots* among all * The extravagancies of some of the German Anabaptists, the French Prophets, the English Quakers, Puritans, and Methodists, AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 95 the denominations of Christians, is another cause of the Infidelity of the age. Unbelievers see the absurdity of their pretensions and proceedings, and they are undistinguishing and liberal enough to comprehend them, and the pure gospel of Christ, in one general sentence of reprobation. have given great and just offence to many sensible and well-dispos- ed people, and been instrumental in driving no small number into downright indifference to all religion ; while others have contract- ed the most inveterate principles of Infidelity. But shall the follies of a few mistaken individuals subvert the nature of things, and the laws of everlasting truth ? Because some men are weak, silly, en- thusiastic, and inflamed with spiritual pride, shall we take upon us to say, there is no such thing as sound religion and good sense in the world ? This would be to make ourselves as weak and culpa- ble as those we take upon us to condemn. All revivals of religion have been attended with excesses ; all sects and parties have had, and will have among them, men of warm imaginations and feeble intellects : and wherever persons of this description become strong- ly impressed with the importance of religious truths, they seldom fail to disgrace tae' party to wnich they belong. There is m rem~* dy for such unfortunate cases, but to use our best endeavors to re- strain and keep them within the bounds of moderation. This how- ever, is usually extremely difficult for all such persons are most commonly wiser than ten men that can render a reason. They are blown up with self-importance, consider themselves as the peculiar favorites of Heaven, and under the immediate teach- ings and leadings of the Divine Spirit. While this persuasion con- tinues, they treat the directions of Scripture as a dead letter, and in vain you attempt to reduce them to order, and the sober dictates of reason and common sense, [i] [1] The Welsh Methodists, among whom there is doubtless much real piety and goodness, exceed most, if not all others of the present day, in their extravagancies. Regular, and for the most part exemplary, in their private deportment ; in their religious as- semblies they resemble rather the frantic ravings and violent dis- tortions of the ancient heathen, than the sober conduct of the dis- ciples of Christ. Little are the well-meaning ministers who en- courage these irregularities, aware, how sensibly they injure the cause ^hey would promote, and with how unamiable an aspect they represent our lovely religion. Who,unaccustomed to these wild scenes, can behold them without mingled pity and disgust? Even little chil- dren are taught to express by their vociferations and jesticulations the same emotions which agitate the rest of the body. There are a few things in this business worthy the consideration of the reflecting part of these societies. 1. How is it, if these extacies are really 96 A PLEA FOR RELIGION Such a conduct is surely uncandid, and highly unbecoming the character of men who would be thought lovers of wisdom. Where we see in- tegrity and good intention at the bottom, we should make all requisite allowance for the in- firmities of men. The best and wisest are en- the production of the Holy Spirit, as would, no doubt, be contended, that the ministers themselves, are rarely, if ever, the subjects Of them. It is not uncommon 1o see them sit in their pulpits, enjoy- ing with apparent self-complacence, the effects which their preach- ing has produced ; but they seldom, it is believed, mingle with the throng in the expression of their extatic feelings. 2. How is it that this effect should be confined to one small spot in Christendom, and that all other parts of the Christian world should join in consider- ing it as a delusion. We have known Christians of the most fer- vent and exalted piety in other countries, who were never the sub- jects of such high-flowri extacies. If these emotions are really the Operation of the Spirit of God, and the pledge of his love to his greatest favorites, why were not the excellent Watts, the pious Hervey, the seraphic Rowe, favored with them. 3. How happens It that a Welshman transported into any other country, loses all this. A Welshman, who had been a jumper in his own country, came to settle in a situation near to the writer of this note, but nev- er after that was he so affected. His master, a serious, but sober Christian, once ventured toask him the reason of this, to which the man replied^ that in England there was nothing worth jumping for. Poor honest fellow ! This remark surely contained too just a re- flection on the lukewarmness and want of energy in many of our English preachers ; but how is it then that the Welsh preachers do not produce these effects in congregations in England, or even in the Welsh among them. Of this there is not, we believe, a solitary instance. We have lately witnessed the truth of this remark on a re- markable occasion. A celebrated and very excellent Welsh preach- er lately addressed a most numerous, pious, and zealous congrega- tion, on one of the most animating subjects conceivable ; but we do not hear of a single effect of this kind being produced ; whereas that same gentleman perhaps never addressed an ordinary Wel«h con- gregation without it. 1 need not mention that I allude to the Rev. Mr. Charles, preaching to the Missionary Society. The result can leave us no room to doubt but this was a local enthusiasm, encour- aged first by some well-meaning, but in this respect, weak leader, and now perhaps not easily remedied, and that Satan has taken ad- vantage of it to promote two of his most desired purposes, namely, to delude professors of religion into an attention to these violences to the neglect of spiritual religion ; and to prevent other men from embracing religion, by a consideration of the extravagancies, which attend it. — Editor* AND THE SACRED WRITINGS, 97 compassed with darkness, and know but in part. One grain of piety and moral excellence is of more worth than the highest attainments in the arts and sciences, without those moral and religious qualifications. Others again take offence at the absurd doc- trines of the several religious Establishments* in * " It is the corruption of Establishments, ten thousand times worse than the rudest dominion of tyranny, which has changed, and is changing, the face of the Jnodern world." Mr. Erskine's Pamphlet on the Causes and Consequences of the present War, from which these words are extracted, contains a number of important political truths, but seems to me by no means satisfactory in speaking on the Causes of the war. Let any man read with sober consideration the Collection of addresses transmitted by certain English Clubs and societies % to the National Convention of France— Mile's Conduct of France towards Great Britain— Gifford's Letter to the Earl of Lauderdale— D'lvernois's Account of the late Revolution in Geneva — with Bowles's Real Grounds of ihe present War with France. This little pamphlet is sufficiently satisfactory. Lord Mornington's Speech before the House of Com- mons is to the same purpose with the above. Harper's Observa* tions on the Dispute between the United States and France, is a de- cisive little work. The designs of the French are therein com- pletely developed. Nothing can be clearer than that they were the aggressors in the present contest. He that cannot see this, when the evidence is so plainly laid before him, must be blinded by, and given up to party. In addition to what has been advanced by these several authors. Ibeg leave here to add a declaration of Lord Auckland, Jan. 9, 1798, in the House of Lords, in reply to Lord Holland. Speaking on the causes of the war, he said, "It was a war of necessity and not of choice ; for he himself at the time was sent with full powers to preserve peace, if it could be done consistently with the honour and interest of this country. He was to have met Dumourier on the subject ; but before the time appointed for that interview, a confidential officer came and informed him, that the Directory had declared war against England : thus, by this pretended negocia- tm, taking the opportunity to seize upon our shipping-."— London Chronicle, Jan. 9— IK 1798. The above several publications contain the whole merits of the cause concerning the authors of the war. And let it terminate as it may, they will convince us that it could not have been avoided on any principle of honour or safety. In expectation of subverting the government of this country, the French, encouraged by disaffected persons in this kingdom, plunged into war. Indeed, it is, properly 98 A PLEA FOR RELIGION Christendom. They discover in them certain peculiarities which they conceive to be irration- al. They confound the doctrines of these hu- man institutions (which were formed in the very dawn of the Reformation, while men's eyes were yet scarcely open enough to discover truth) with genuine Christianity. Not being at the pains to examine matters to the bottom, and distinguish accurately, they suppose them to be alike, ^ind hence contract a rooted indifference, if not an unconquerable aversion to all religion. Some there are again, who, seeing the pomp and pride of many of our Bishops and dignified Clergy, how they, in direct opposition to the whole spirit of the gospel, the example of prima- tive clerks, as well as tneir own holy professions, scramble for emolument, and heap together from two to half a score lucrative places of prefer- ment, while several thousands of their brethren are destitute of the ordinary comforts of life, without further examination, naturally suppose that Religion is all priestcraft and self-interest, honour and conscience having nothing to do in the business.— It may be of use to state this more at large. It is well known then, that there are about 18,000 Clergymen in England and Wales of the established Religion, and near 10,000 parishes. The Rectories 5098; the Vicarages 3687; the Livings of other descriptions 2970 ; in all 11,755. speaking, the war of English Jacobins. If the French had not been stimulated by persons here, there had been no war. — Let us not, however, murmur against men — the whole is of God. Great and good purposes are to be answered by it, in the due order of Divine Providence. AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 99 Twenty or thirty of these Livings may be a thousand a year and upwards : Four or five hun- dred of them 500 pounds a year and upwards : Two thousand of them 200 pounds a year and upwards: Five thousand of them under 100 pounds a year. The average value of Livings is about 140 pounds a year, reckoning them at 10,000. As these things are not very generally under- stood, we will be a little more particular. In the year 1714, when Queen Anne's Boun- ty began to be distributed, there were 1071 Livings not more than 10 pounds a year. 1467 - - - 20 1126 - - - 30 1 149 ........ 40 884 - 50 In all 5697 Livings not more than 50 pounds a year apiece. All the 10 and 20 pound Livings have now been augmented by the above donation. This bounty is about 13,000 pounds a year, clear of deductions, and is, therefore, equal to 65 augmentations annually, at 200 pounds apiece.* The whole income of the Church and two Uni- versities is about 1,500,000 pounds a year. There are 26 Bishops, whose annual income is 72,000, or according to another account 92,000 pounds : each Bishop, therefore, has on an ave- rage 2,770 or 3,538 pounds a year, supposing he *The Clergy are indebted to Bishop Burnet for this application* The money itself arises from the first fruits and tenths of church-liv- ings, above a certain value, which, before the time of Henry VI IF wsed to go to the Fope of Rome. 11 100 A PLEA FOR RELIGION had no other preferment : — There are 28 Dean- eries and Chapters, whose income is about 5000 pounds a year each, making together about 140 r 000 pounds. — The income of the two Universi- ties is together about 180,000 pounds a year. The 10,000 Clergy* have together about 1,108,- 000 pounds a year among them, which is little *The Dissenters in England and Wales are said, by the late Mr, Robinson, of Cambridge, to make about a fifth part of the nation consisting of near 1400 congregations. The Quakers are numerous' being about 50,000 - v but the Baptists are still more numerous than either the Quakers, or the Presbyterians, or Independents, or Mo~ ravians* To these should be added the Methodist Preachers of the gospel. The regular circuit Preachers in Great Britain and Ireland, in the year 1807, were about 560, and the local Preachers are supposed *o amount to near 2400. In addition to these, they have about 360 Preachers in America besides local assistants. The number of Missionaries in the West Indies is 30, besides 50 Negro Preachers. Hence it appears, that the whole number of persons who preach the gospel to the poor in the Methodist connexion at present, is upwards of 4000 ; of which number 2000 are stationed in Great Britain, and the adjacent Isl- ands. The number of persons belonging to the societies of the late Rev- erend John Wesley was about 118,500 in this country; 24,500 in Ireland ; 157,000 in America and the West Indies : In all about 300,000. The number of poor Blacks on the continent of America, belonging to the Methodist societies, and in the West Indies, mak- ing together about 28,00Q, who have renounced their besotting sin — polygamy ; and, in the main, live as becomes the gospel. The followers of the late Reverend George Whitfield, and Lady Huntingdon, are said to consist of nearly an equal number in Great Britain, though, I should suppose, this calculation is rather exag- gerated. It appears from Dr. Whitehead's Lives of the Wesley family, that the name of Methodist was first bestowed upon Mr. Charles Wes- ley, in 1728, at Oxford, for the exact method and order which he observed in spending his time, and regulating his conduct. An origin surely, truly honourable, and of which no wise man need be ashamed ! And then, what a highly respectable compliment do the "blind mouths'' of this world pay the Method'sts, in calling every man by that name, whose conduct is moral, whose piety is fervent, and whose affections are set upon things above all ? — Good men in all ages have been what the foolish world now call Methodists, AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 10 1 more than 100 pounds a piece. The whole body of the Clergy and their families make near 100,000 souls, that is about an eighth part of the nation* And reckoning the population of Eng- land and Wales at eight millions of people, ev- ery Clergyman would have a congregation of 444 persons to attend to, in the same way of cal- culation. There are, moreover, 28 Cathedrals, 26 Deans, 60 Archdeacons, and 544 Prebends, Canons, &x\ — Besides these, there are in all about 300 in orders belonging to the different Cathedrals, and about 800 Lay-officers, such as singing men, or- ganists, &c. who are all paid from the Cathedral emoluments ; so that there are about 1700 per- sons attached to the several Cathedrals, who di- vide among them, the 140,000 pounds a year, making upon an average near 83 pounds a year apiece,* The whole income of the Kirk of Scotland was in 1755, about 68,500 pounds a year. This was divided among 944 Ministers, and on an av- erage made 72 pounds apiece per annum* Upon a general view of these matters, when it is considered, that all the Bishoprics, Prebenda- ries, Deanaries, Headships of Colleges, and best Church Livings, are occupied by a smaller num- ber, in all probability, than an eighteenth part of these Clergy ; what a deplorable situation must a large share of the remaining seventeen thousand Ministers be in, especially under the present ad- vanced price of most of the common necessaries * See an Essay on the Revenues of the Church of England, 102 A PLEA FOR RELfclON of life ? And then, it is curious enough, that these Church Dignitaries, who are in possession of sev- eral thousands a year per man, have made laws? directly contrary to the practice of St. Paul, that the inferior Clergy, who are destitute of all the elegancies, and many of the comforts of life* shall not be permitted to follow any other calling, whereby to improve their condition, and get bread for their families ! Would there be any thing inconsistent with the character of a Minis- ter of the gospel of Christ, if the poor Rectors, Vicars, and Curates of the country, should make a common cause, and associate together in one body against their unfeeling oppressors ? # Could *Every man is an oppressor who holds that which ought to be in the hands of another. — It does not appear to me, that we can justly blame any man for being a Deist, while the great body of us, the Bishops and Clergy, conduct ourselves in the manner we usually do. The spirit of our Hierarchy seems, in various respects, in di- rect opposition to the spirit of the gospel. A conscientious Deist, if such can be found, who worships God in spirit and in truth r is infinitely preferable to a proud, naughty, pompous Bishop or dig- nified Clergyman, who trades in livings and souls ; and his condem- nation will be far less severe. Whatever Bishops and Clergymen of this description may profess, they are Infidels at bottom. They believe nothing of the spirit of Christianity. Religion is their trade* and gain with them is godliness. They live in the spirit of the an- cient Scribes and Pharisees, and they may expect to share in the fate of the Scribes and Pharisees.— Compare Isaiah lvi. 9—12. Let the clerical reader return to the conclusion of Bishop Bur- net's History of his own times, and he will find the negligent Bish- ops of the land very justly and smartly reprehended for their im- proper conduct. Mr. Ostervald, in his excellent Treatise Concerning the Causes of the present Corruption of Christians, attributes that corruption chiefly to the Clergy. His words are these : — "The cause of the corruption of Christians is chiefly to be found in the Clergy. I do not mean to speak here of all Churchmen indifferently. We must do right to some, who distinguish themselves by their talents, their zeal, and the holiness of their lives. But the number of these is not considerable enough to stop the course of those disorders which arc occasioned in the Church, by the vast multitude of remis? and AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 103 there be any impropriety in their conduct, if they should peaceably and respectfully address the King, who is temporal Head of the Church, or the Legislature of the land, to take their cir- cumstances into serious consideration ? One man —not a whit better than his brethren — shall en- joy 20,000 pounds a year-another 15,000 ; anoth- er 10,000— another 5000— another 3000 — anoth- er 2000 ; and another 1000. One shall heap Living upon Living, Preferment upon Preferment — to a vast amount — merely because he has got access — too often by mean compliances-to some great man — while his more worthy brother is almost in want of bread for his children. The late Dr. Law, Bishop of Carlisle, if my memory does not fail me, was possessed, at the time of his de- cease, of ten or more different Preferments. He was Bishop — Head of a College — Prebend- Rector — Librarian, &c. &c. &c. and all this be- stowed upon him — not because he \vas a more holy, useful, and laborious man, than ordinary ; corrupt pastors. These pull down what the others endeavour to build up."— P. ii. Cause 3. The instances of extreme blame which attaches to the higher or- ders of the English Clergy, are very numerous. A certain gentle- man, not a hundred miles from my own neighbourhood, w r hom I could name, is possessed of about a thousand a year private for- tune. He is a married man, without any children. He has one living in Cheshire, of the value of more than 400 pounds a year: another in Essex, and another elsewhere, the three together mak- ing a thousand a year more or less. He is, moreover, Chaplain to a Company, and private Tutor in a Nobleman's family. But what is most culpable, is, he resides upon none of his livings, and very seldom comes near them, though a lusty, healthful man. Can that Church be faultless, which permits such horrible abuses ? the Bish- ops themselves, however, being generally guilty of holding a varie- ty of preferments, and of most inexcusable non-residence, are dispo- sed to connive at every thing of the kind among the superior Clergy who are under their inspection. 11* 104 A PLEA FOR RELIGION though a man of meril; and talents ; but because he wriggled himself into favour with certain great persons, who had influence with men in power. Instances of this kind are not uncom- mon. They are, however, unjust, impolitic, and unchristian. No wise Legislature ought to per- mit such abuses, Religion being out of the ques- tion. They are inconsistent with every thing de- cent and proper, while so many valuable,, learned, !aborious,humble, modest men, are pining in wantr- I know well, that reflections of tnis nature are calculated to disoblige those who are interested; but regardless of consequences, without the least dislike to any man living, or the smallest view to any one individual, or a wish to have any thing better for myself, and actuated only with a love to truth, and the advancement of our common Christianity, I, for one, protest in the face of the sun against all such abuses. And I moreover, solemnly avow, that the spirit of the present times is such, that unless these and similar disor- ders are rectified by the wisdom of the Legisla- ture, the ecclesiastical fabric in this country will, ere long, be as completely overturned as that of France has been.* Nothing can prevent it but a speedy and thorough reformation. If the Bish- ops of the land, as first in dignity, would be first in this grand work : if they would make a merit of necessity, and like Bishop Wilson, re- sign voluntarily, what they cannot long possess in * The Church of France, before the Revolution consisted of 18 archbishops, 118 bishops, 366,264 clergy, regular and secular, who together enjoyed a revenue of about five millions sterling. The kingdom was divided into 34,498 parishes, besides 4,644 annexed parishes ; in all 39,142 parishes. AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. I0t> safety: if they would make an offer to their King and Country of withdrawing from the Up- per House ;* resigning all their secular honors^ and commence genuine ministers of the gospel r Or, should this be too much to expect, if they would renounce their several pluralities,! and * This, I believe, is an abuse unknown in any other protestant church in Europe, and would never have been submitted to in the purest a^e of Christianity. Would to God our Governors in Church and State could set in right to but what shall I say? Why should I desire changes, every thing but impossible ? — It is be- cause I wish as well as any man in England to my King and Coun- try, that I desire every thing to be removed that may provoke the Divine displeasure against us, as a nation and people, and bring on the total dissolution of the political frame of things. The wishes of an obscure clergyman, however, will be less in the scale, than the smallest dust upon the balance, when weighed against the vast body oi archbishops, bishops, deans, prebends, canons, archdeacons, rec- tors, vicars, curates, lecturers, commissioners, chancellors, proctors v surrogates, &c. &c. with which our church abounds. We Clergy- men should do well frequently to study the 34th chapter ofEzekieh It might do us much good^ The following address of Cowper is also worthy our attention . "Ye Clergy, while your orbit is your place, Lights of the world, and stars of human race ; But if eccentrick ye forsake your sphere, Prodigious, ominous, and view'd with fear ; The comet's baneful influence is a dream, Yours real and pernicious in th T extreme." u Oh laugh, or mourn with me, the rueful jest r A cassoc'd huntsman, and a fiddling priest ; He from Italian songsters takes his cue, Set Paul to musick, he shall quote him too. He takes the field ! the Master of the pack Cries, well done, Saint ! — and claps him on the back, Is this the path of sanctity ? Is this To stand a way-mark in the road to bliss ? Himself a wand'rer from the narrow way, His silly sheep, what wonder if they stray ?" "The sacred function, in your hand is made, Sad sacrilege ! no function but a trade. *• Progress of Error. f It is no uncommon thing for the Bishops of our Church to hold such preferments as are utterly incompatible with each other, The late Br, Hinchclifle was at the same time Bishop of Peterbe - 106 A PLEA FOR RELIGION quietly retire into their respective dioceses, nev- er appearing in the great Council of the nation, but when absolutely wanted : if they would come among their Clergy— converse witli them freely, and treat them as brothers : if they would go about doing good, in all condescension and hu- mility, through their several districts, preaching rough, and Master of Trinity College in Cambridge. As Bishop, he ought, by every law of honour, and conscience, and the gospel, to have been resident in his diocese among his clergy and people, As Master of Trinity, his presence could not, in general, be dispens- ed with. We have had others, who enjoyed, at the same time, several in- compatible preferments — a Bishopric — a Headship of a College — a Prebendary — a Rectory — and other emoluments. As Bishop, a man ought to be in his own diocese ; as Head of a college, he must be resident ; Prebend, certain duties are due ; as rector of a parish, his absence cannot be dispensed with. And, I might add, as a Lord of Parliament, his presence is frequently and justly required. What account their Lordships can give, either t© God or man, for such of the preferments as are absolutely incompatible one with another, it behoves them well to consider. Such examples have a deadly effect upon the interests of religion. Were they to preach like St. Paul, who would regard them, who sees that they do not be- lieve their own professions ? No rank, no talents, no learning, no good sense, no respectability can excuse such a conduct. — We are continually hearing of the rapid spread of Infidelity. The Bishops of London and Durham, in their late excellent charges, are loud in their complaints. But what appears surprising to me is, that they and others should speak so strongly of the overthrow of Christianity in France. By their leave, and with all due submission, it is not Christianity which has experienced a subversion there. It is the doctrine of Antichrist ; and its subversion will ultimately prove one of the greatest blessings God could bestow upon the nations. — But who is to blame for the spread of Infidelity ? The Bishops and Cler- gy of the land, more than any other people in it. We, as a body of men, are almost solely and exclusively culpable. Our negligence, lukewarmness, worldly mindedness, and immorality will ruin the whole country. And when the judgments of God come upon the land, they will fall peculiarly heavy upon the heads of our order of men. One word upon the situation of the unhappy Irish. We cry but against them for their rebellious conduct ; and to be sure they are extremely to blame in many respects. Is there not however, a cause, an apparent cause, at least, for their dissatisfaction ? The grievances of the Protestant part of the people are many and. con- AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 107 the word of life in an ^evangelical strain, among the people, after the example of the great S-hep- siderable. The late Lord Bristol, for instance, Bishop of Derry. whose Bishopric is said to have been 15,000 pounds a year, was ram- bling over Europe, and did not set foot in his diocese for several years ; some have reported, for twenty-four.(l) This is a specimen of the treatment which Churchmen meet with. Can we wonder, if they, as well as the Catholics and Dissenters, should murmur ? Ireland would, in all probability, have been lost to England, had not the mad and bloody zeal of the Catholics, those hellish wretches, united the Protestants in their own defence, for the protection of their lives and properties. There are twenty-two Bishops, who preside over the established church in Ireland, at the expense of 74,000 pounds a year ; which is at the rate of 3,368 pounds per annum a man, besides all their other preferments. Some of them are known to be very worthy characters ; but others like the one just mentioned, are extremely to blame, though surely not in the same degree. While such are the Shepherds, no wonder if the Sheep go astray. Ought we to be surprised if Catholics, Dissenters, and Methodists succeed in mak- ing converts ? If infidelity abound and run like wild-fire among the people ? if they complain, wish to overturn such -a system of corrup- tion, and rise in rebellion for the purpose ? Nothing but true reli- gion, or a sense of the impolicy of the measure, can restrain them,— I do affirm again and again, that the slothful and temporizing Bish- ops and Clergy of Europe, are the main authors of the present mis- 1 eries of Europe, and we may justly and infallibly expect, Divine Providence will ere long, kick us off our perches, as has been the » (1) It is not a little remarkable, that the late act for "enforcing the residence of spiritual persons on their livings," contains an ex- press exemption in favour of the Bishops, who are therefore placed by it under no obligation of residing even on their dioceses, a provision which some may think not without its utility. The principal part of the provisions of the act are calculated to facilitate, and even li- cence non-residence; an abuse, which if we may credit Bishop Burnet r was not even tolerated in the Church of Rome, (see the conclusion of the history of his Own Times ;) and so little has been the operation of this act in enforcing residence, that the Editor has been told by persons well informed, that in the diocese of London itself, there are scarcely six instances of the clergy who have been compelled to reside under it. It is observed by Selden, (Table Talk 139) that "the people thought they had a great victory over the clergy, when in Henry the VIII. time they got their bill passed, f that a clergyman should have but two livings." It will be well if the late acts be not found to establish certain principles, which in the result will make both the clergy and people sensible that they have lost a great victory in being deprived of the advantage of a Common Law Tribunal, — Editor, 108 A PLEA FOR RELIGION herd and Bishop of souis, and his Apostles i if they would renounce their pomp and splendour, casein other countries, and give our offices "and emoluments to those, who are more worthy of them. Nothing can save us, unless we turn over a new leaf, and become alive to the interests — not of the Church as a secular institution — but to the interests of pure, disinterested, evangelical religion. What might not the 18,000 Clergymen in this country do, were we all zealously concerned for the honour of the Lord Jesus and the salvation of the people com- mitted to our care ? The face of things in every moral point of view at least, would be extremely different. — What a horrible hell shall we Parsons have when we leave our present beds of down ? How will the devils exult over myriads of full-fed Bishops, Doctors, and dignified Dons, who have rioted upon the spoils of the Church, and neglected or abused their holy charge ? I add further, that among other causes of complaint in our sister- kingdom, many of the bishoprics are filled up by the Viceroy from among the English clergy, and the best livings are possessed by Englishmen. Hence a very frequent' non-residence. Every im- partial person must consider this as a real grievance. The Irish clergy, indeed, are, taking them with some few honourable excep- tions, in a state truly deplorable, and the great mass of the laity not less so, considered in every religious point of view. What wonder, if the people, left to perish by their ministers for lack of knowledge, „ should rise up and cut the throats of those ministers? This is a just re-action of Providence. We talk of the wild Irish, and speak of them as being little raised above a state of savage nature. Let it be considered who is to blame for all this. The Bishops and Clergy, I vow. But the fault is greatly in the ecclesiastical part of the, con- stitutions of the two countries, which will permit the clerical order of men to receive the emoluments of the church, without performing the business for which we are paid. No man can surely say that a reform here would do us any harm ! But if a reform in church-mat- ters is never to be brought about till the Bishops and Clergy them- selves embark in it, there is much reason to fear, the event is at no little distance. I must, however, do my own order the justice to observe, that, in former periods, whatever reformations in religion have been brought forward, some of the clergy have been the most active and effective instruments. God send us again a few more Wickliffs, Cranmers, Latimers, Ridleys, Hookers, and Gilpins, to deliver us from the remaining dregs of Popish superstition which cleaves to us, that the throne of our excellent King may be perma- nent as the days of heaven, and the British churches become the glory and envy of the whole world ! u Triumphant here may Jesus reign, And on his vineyard sweetly smile ; While all the virtues of his train, Adorn our church and bless our Isle ! 11 AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 109 and set their faces in good earnest against all mo- nopolies of livings ; against non-residents ; against all immoral, disorderly, and irreligious Clergy- men : if they would be the zealous and avowed friends and patrons of laborious pastors, in par- ticular, and of good men of every description, in general ; then would the Church of England soon become, more than ever, the glory of all churches, and the bishops of that church would be the glory of all Bishops. It is, however, not to be doubted, that men, possessed of the loaves and fishes, will laugh at all this as visionary and enthusiastic. u I know the warning song is sung in vain, That few will hear, and fewer heed the strain." Beit so. — Ihave only to reply — Look at the Bishops and Clergy of France ! — They now think themselves hardly treated. But, as a body, they had been excessively to blame ; and their pres- ent sufferings are proportionate to their former culpability. Happy will it be for us, if their neg- ligence and misfortunes make us wise and cau- tious ! *Ehe fate of the Jewish clergy of old, and of the French, Dutch, Flemish, Italian, and Swiss Clergy of our own times, comes like a peal of thunder, preaching Reform ; real, and effectual, and speedy Reform, to the Clergy of every country. You see then, my Countrymen, that I, for one, give up all these abuses as indefensible. Every man of common sense and observation, whose eyes are not blinded by prejudice, and whose mind is not closed by sinful habit and self-inter- est, must see that they are wrong. But, be if 110 A PLEA FOR RELIGION remembered, that whatever means Diviae Prov- idence may use to correct them — for corrected in due time they must be — the gospel of Christ is not to be blamed for them. It gives them no countenance ; it predicts their rise, their contin- uance, their downfall : and it denounces nothing less than the most extreme condemnation against all those, who prevent the Divine Ordinances to secular and self-interested purposes. It is nei- ther Emperors, nor Kings, nor Popes, nor Arch- bishops, nor Bishops, nor Clergymen of any infe- rior description, that shall escape the just sen- tence of the universal Judge. He will make no distinction. He knows no difference between man and man, but what moral and religious qual- ifications make. " Whatsoever a person soweth 5 that shall he also reap." Mighty sinners shall be mightily punished. Eminently good and use- ful men shall be eminently rewarded. To this head let it be further added, that dis- cerning men, observing the conduct, character, and precepts of the Saviour of the world, and comparing them with the conduct and*manners of our Church Dignitaries, cannot help seeing a very striking contrast. His kingdom was not to be of this world: but the conduct of our Bish- ops, is in a great measure secular. His meat and drink was to do the will of him that sent him. He literally " went about doing good." He preached every where, and to all descriptions of men. A genuine patriot, he was never weary of contributing to the happiness of his country. - He was frequently in the temple, but never in the palace, except when dragged thither by force AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. Ill Our learned Prelates,* however are so occupied in the great Council of the nation ; in dancing at- tendance at Court ; in guarding their secular emoluments from waste ; in visiting the nobility and gentry of the land ; and in other worldly engagements of various descriptions, that they have but little time left either for reading the -Scriptures, for private retirement, or for preach- ing the Gospel to the poor of the flock, in their jespective districts^ To hear a Bishop preach, * Among the Bishops of the Church of England may be found a considerable number of characters the most respectable for every moral, literary, and religious attainment ; and the country is under ftie utmost obligation to them for their exertions at different periods of our history. But were any individuals among them ever so de- sirous, they had it not in their power to rectify abuses, and reform what they may conceive to be amiss. The system is too compact and well-digested. Their hands are tied behind them. The preju- dices of some, the interests of others, the supineness of not a few, and the fears of disturbing the long established order of things, in most, form an insuperable barrier against every reform ; insomuch that nothing, it is to be feared, can accomplish any considerable change for the better, but a convulsion. If, indeed, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the whole bench of Bishops, had discernment, and humility, and public spirit, and self-denial enough, to come for- ward df their own accord, and with one consent desire an ameliorat- ed state of things, there might be some hope. But, that six and twenty interested men should be brought to concur in a business of this sort, seems next to an impossibility. The sacrifice is too great ! Human nature is too frail to make it. t Bishops ought assuredly to reside in their dioceses among their Clergy, preaching in season and out of season; countenancing and encouraging the good ; reproving, exhorting, warning, punishing the unworthy and immoral part of their Clergy. The contrary to this, however, is very frequently the case. If aman happens to have got a little more zeal than ordinary, and labours more diligently to do good than the generality of his brethren, immediately they are all in arms against him. And nothing is more common, than for his ec- clesiastical superiors to frown upon him, to stigmatize him as a Methodist, and to oppose his interests in every way they can con- trive. Whereas, a Clergyman may be a man of pleasure and dissi- pation ; gay, foolish, silly, trifling ; he may spend his time in the /diversions of the field ; drink, swear, and live as foolishly as the laost foolish of his flock, and yet no harm shall happen. He is no 12 112 A PLEA FOR RELIGION is a sort of phenomenon in the country. And, if any of that truly respectable body of men-^-some Methodist, and therefore, every favour shall be shewn him which he can desire. Methodism is like the sin against the Holy Ghost ; it is neither to be forgiven in this world, nor in the world to come ! Be it, however, observed, that the increase of Dissenters, and the alarming spread of Methodism, are both entirely owing to the luke- warmness, or negligence, or disorderly conduct, or bigotry, or perse- cuting spirit of the Clergy in th;e Establishment And there is no way under heaven of preventing the most mischievous consequences, but by adopting new measures, reforming what is amiss, and out- preaching, out-labouring, and out-living all our opposers. The pride of office has injured us extremely. The disdain frequently express- ed by us against the several Seetarists has been highly impolitic,and sometimes unchristian. Has not everyman living the same right to worship God according to the dictates of his own conscience, that we have ? To his own master each one may give an account. He that worships God most spiritually, and obeys him most universally, believing in the name of his only begotten Son, is the best man, and most acceptable to the Divine Being, whether he be found in a Church, in a Quaker's meeting-house, in a Dissenting place of wor- ship, of any other description, or upon the topof a mountain. How long shall we be carried away by weak and superstitious distinc- tions? "In every nation,'' and among all denominations of men, u he that feareth God, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with Kirn."" And if God will accept, why should not man ? The Sav- iour of the world himself hath given us an infallible definition of a Gospel- church : u Where two or three are gathered together in my name there am I in the midst of them. T ' Let any man consult Locke on Toleration, and he can have no doubt on his mind con- cerning the liberality of the genuine Gospel of our blessed Saviour. It has been the custom of the Established Clergy of all countries, for many ages, to arrogate to themselves a kind of infallibility. — Nay, I might add, there is scarcely a Parson among us all, whether Churchman, Methodist, Quaker, or Dissenters of any other descrip- tion, that lias not got a church, a chapel, or a meeting-house in his belly. We are all Popes in our own way ; at least, every denomi- nation has its imperious and over-bearing dictators. Let no man, hcwever, think the worse of the New-Testament-Religion because ©f the different hobby-horses which we Parsons think proper to ride. Our Order has had its day ; and a pretty long day it has been !— The Pope has ridden the Bishops, the bishops have ridden the Priests, and the Priests, have ridden the people. The tables, how- ever, are now turning, though late ; and we parsons must be con- tented to be ridden by the People. But if the People, in their zeal for freedom, should proceed to cast off the Divine yoke— and there is some danger !— if they should insolently reject the authority of Jesus Christ, our only Lord, and Master, and Saviour, he AND THE SACRED WRITINGS. 113 of whom are both great and good men, and, in- dependent of such considerations, 1 hope ever to u will visit their offences with a rod, and their sin with scourges." He has a right to our services. "We are not our own, but are bought with a price, 1 ' and no man shall refuse him subjection, and prosper. Every thinking person must feel that he is a dependent creature, and insufficient for his own happiness ; a sinful creature, and incapable of atoning for his own transgressions. I have said above, that among the B shops of the Church of Eng= land may be found a considerable number of characters the most respectable for every moral, literary, and religious attainment. I add too, again, that several of the Bishops and Clergy of the Irish church have been also highly respectable, as well as many of the inferior order of our own Clergy. So likewise have been many of the Bishops and Clergy of the French church. Usher, the Irish Archbishop, for instance, was not only a pious man, but even a walking library, in point of learning. The late Archbishop New- come, was a character of the most respectable literary kind, Bish- op Warburton, no mean judge, used to say of Bishop Taylor, u he had no conception of a greater genius upon earth than was that ho- ly man. V — Where too was there ever a more admirable character than the author of Telemacus? or learned men than Calmet, Du Pin, Montfaucon, and others among the French Clergy ? Our own Cotes, though but a private clergyman, and young in years at the time of his decease, is said by Bishop Watson to have been second to none but Newton in sublimity of philosophic genius. But as the Seaming, piety, genius, and amiable manners of Fenelon and his brethren^ could not excuse and make tolerable the corruption --of the church of France -, so neither can the learning, genius, and pie- ty of the Bishops and Clergy of England and Ireland excuse and make justifiable the more tolerable corruptions of the churches of these two countries. We must either simplify and evangelize our ecclesiastical constitutions, or they must fall, f speak this, not from any personal pique or disappointment, not from a love of nov- elty and change, but upon the authority of the Prophetic Scrip- tures— with a view to the near completion of the 1260 mystical years—and from a solemn and awful contemplation of the revolu- tions which are so rapidly taking place through all Europe. Eng- land may, and, I trust will, be protected by Divine Providence for a time ; " the iniquity of the Amorites may not yet be full ;" but the Great Nation, as they vain-gloriously call themselves must ul- timately succeed in their designs, unless a radical reformation should engage the Lord on our side, and prevent our national ruin. Great tenderness, however, ought to be exercised towards our Governors both in Church and State, upon this delicate subject ; because, whenever a King succeeds to the throne of these lands, he swears to maintain the Church in its present state ; because all im- portant changes are attended with serious danger to the very exist- 114 A PLEA FOR RELIGION reverence them for their office sake— do vouch- safe, once in a way, as *an extreme favor 9 to in- ence of society— witness the revolution in France— and because Judge Blackstone, in his Commentaries, delivers it as his opinion, that no alteration can take place, either in the Constitution or Lit- urgy of the Church of England, consistently with the Act of Union.— Introduction, sect. 4. (1) Butif this be the case, the Act of Union was unwisely managed. What right has any one generation to legislate for all future genera- tions ? and especially to tie up their hands from making changes and improvements adapted to the taste of the revolving ages ? Upon this principle Christianity itself, and even the present constitution of England, is an improper innovation on the wisdom of former ages. It is evident from the opposition of the late Bishop of Rochester .o the abolition of Holidays, that we may not expect from the .Bench of Bishops the smallest concession towards reformation in the ecclesiastical part of our Constitution. To me, however, what we usually call Holidays appear in the light of very serious evils to the community. Let a man conscientiously observe the Lord's day, and I will excuse him every other holiday in the calendar. (1) Though it was certainly stipulated at the time of the Union that no alteration should ever afterwards take place in the doctrine, discipline, worship, or government of the Church of England ; yet on two recent occasions the legislature, yielding perhaps to the force of the suggestion contained in our author's next note, has thought fit to break through this restriction, at the solicitations of the bishops, and «or tne puTp6& of augmenting their powers. See a pamphlet on the recent extension of the powers of their Lordships the Bishops, pub- lished by Longman and Co. But whatever might be the occasion, we may draw from the circumstance a most cheering conclusion, which, could it have had its force on the excellent mind of our au- thor, would have dissipated much of the gloom, with which on this subject it was evidently oppressed, namely, that the Parliament now no longer considers itself as bound down by the strict conditions of the Union, but at liberty to make any alterations it may deem con- ducive to the advantage of the Church. From this beginning we may doubtless augur the most happy consequences, no less than a full and thorough (though perhaps gradual) revision of the whole of our ecclesiastical constitution. The old and mouldering fabric will, doubtless, undergo a complete repair, the decayed or faulty mate- rials taken down, the good preserved and strengthened, the rubbish cast away. The revenues of the Clergy will be more equalized, the powers of the Bishops moderated and defined, the liberties and rights of the inferior Clergy, as a necessary consequence, more re- garded, and better secured ; our ecclesiastical courts,.those remain- ing badges of our spiritual bondage, either totally abolished, or great- ly reformed, their proceedings no longer enveloped in the mystery AND THE SACKED WRITINGS, 115 dulge the people where they happened to spend a little time, they usually affect so much pomp and dignity in their manner, and their discourses are so dry and unevangelical ; so stiff, so cool, so essaical, so critical, so ethical, so heathen-like, that the poor of the flock can receive little or no benefit and edification. These learned gentlemen are so horribly afraid of approaching too near the Methodists,* both in * Methodist is a term of reproach which has been made use of for many years, in this country, to stigmatize all the most serious, zealous, and lively professors of religion. It is not confined to any one sect or party ; but is common, more or less, to all who are pe- culiarly animated in the concerns of religion. In the Church of England, as by law established, all those Ministers and people are called Methodists, who believe and preach, and contend for the doctrines of the Thirty-nine Articles of Religion. And Arians, So- cinians, Arminians, and Formalists of every description, who con- tinue to attend public worship in the Establishment, are considered by the undisceming world as her true members. In short, all who embrace, with a lively and zealous faith, the doctrines of