But the most important witness of the moral and judicial government of God is, undoubtedly, to be found within the mind itself. When we speak of conscience, every man knows what we mean; for its tribunal is within him, and this vicegerent of the divine justice exercises a power from which it is impossible entirely to escape, though it is sometimes silenced, corrupted, or deceived. This it is, which makes cowards of the most abandoned in the hour of death, which flashes its light into the most secret retreats of the guilty, and breathes an unacknowledged horror over the prosperity of the wicked. This it is, which renders the face of nature horrible to the man who bears about with him the worm that never dies; this is the avenger, which waits only for a moment of solitude, or an interval of retirement, to make the proudest and most important of villains weary of life, and, if it find him never alone, pursues him even in his dreams, and terrifies him with visions of the night. It is a rewarder, also, as well as a punisher; an approver, as well as a condemner. It is regarded not merely as a strong indication of the divine government, but as constituting the most extensive and effectual provision which God has made for the administration of justice; and there is no man, who has ever fallen under its sentence, who will not confess that it is the minister, as well as the interpreter, of divine justice.

Has your conscience ever reproached you? Did it not then, at that very moment, lift a corner of the veil which

is

yet drawn over this scene of future judgment? Every public oath, every faltering perjury, every dying confession, every prayer for mercy, every face pale with falsehood, and every wild look of despair, is an appeal, which our reason acknowledges, to this future tribunal.

When Paul was reasoning "of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, Felix trembled." The rising of the procurator from his seat was itself a proclamation, loud as the voice of the inspired apostle, that the doctrine, which he taught was no chimera. But, if the Roman governor chooses, let him refer these suggestions of his troubled mind to the class of superstitious delusions, and maintain that they do not demonstrate such a retribution as the apostle was preaching. Be it so, then; and let Felix take his seat again, and demand another proof; for conscience, though it makes us cowards, does not always make us believers. Let the trial, then, of the innocent proceed. Let the judge, who has the preacher in his power, proceed to pass his iniquitous sentence, and cut off, at once, the argument and the life of the apostle. Nay, more; let him retire now with his guards, and ask, Where is this judgment of which the prisoner prated so long? Now call in the spectators of this injustice, the sufferers under his administration; show the plunder which Felix has collected, the villages smoking under his rapacious edicts. Let them hear the cries of his innocent victims, and the loud appeals to Heaven, from every part of Judea, against the cruelty of the unprincipled procurator; and then ask them whether Paul's doctrine is true, and you will hear another

answer.

It appears, then, whatever credit we may refuse to give to the language of our own consciences on this subject, we are ready to believe in a retribution to come, when we ourselves suffer injustice, or when we see, as well as feel, the inconveniences of the imperfect retribution of the present life. These are arguments which strike the most obtuse understandings; and many a man, who doubts of a doctrine

taught him by his conscience, will have no longer a doubt, when the same doctrine is presented to him by his sufferings, or by his passions.

Besides the reproaches of conscience, there are the pangs of mind attendant on particular evil passions, such as the pinings of envy, the heat of rage, the goadings of ambition, and the fears of avarice, all of which are indications of a moral constitution, and are avengers of the divine laws.

These proofs of a moral and judicial government are much more numerous than a superficial glance at society would lead any man to suppose. God has everywhere innumerable instruments at his disposal, and the methods, by which he may punish offenders here on earth, are various, far beyond our imagination; and let us never forget that the process may be going on in the mind, when it is yet utterly imperceptible to others. We should not be so much disposed to doubt the equity of the divine administration, and to regard this world as a scene where vice is often unpunished and virtue unrewarded, if we were not so much dazzled by external circumstances as to regard men's visible condition as the indication of their happiness. We wonder that the lightning does not blast the murderer, or the earth open and swallow up the blasphemer, and cry "Doth not God see?" when, if we will but think, we shall be satisfied that there is a secret, gradual, and certain process continually going on within, which is the natural retribution which God has appointed, and which is quite as decided an indication of a moral government, to those who will attend to it, as if the earth opened, or the thunderbolt fell. God, indeed, causes his sun to shine, and his rain to descend, on the just and on the unjust. He does

not give us a visible sign from heaven to resolve our perplexities; but, if we will look within, we shall find the sign

we want.

The circumstances, we have now enumerated, are abundantly sufficient to prove the commencement of a moral and judicial government. Indeed, men do not, in general, deny it. They see the characters written on the wall, and it is only when interest or passion deceives them, that they fail to discern that there is a God that judgeth in the earth," and that we are accountable to his government.

It may seem extraordinary, that we should have taken so much pains to show the commencement of a retribution here, as a preliminary to the proof of a retribution hereafter. Why not come, at once, to the arguments for a future life and judgment? But it ought to be considered, that it is only from the indications of a moral government here, that, exclusive of revelation, we can infer the probability of any retribution hereafter; it is from its commencement here, that we expect its continuance, and from its imperfect dispensation in this world, that we infer its completion and perfection in another.

We come, then, to our second head, where it is our object to prove, that, while there are so many circumstances to demonstrate the existence of a moral and judicial government in the world, there are certain facts which compel us to believe that its execution is here incomplete, and that the apparent inequalities will be rectified. From among these numerous inequalities and defects I will mention only one, which strikes me with peculiar force.

It is very easy to find reasons why virtue and piety should here be exposed to affliction. It not only tries, but it confirms, the force of a virtuous mind; and I have no

hesitation in saying that such a state as ours, where "there is one event alike to the righteous and to the wicked," is perfectly proper as a state of probation. Indeed, I know not how any great degree of virtue could exist, where there was no principle of religious faith in a retribution to come; and this could not and would not be, if temporal reward and punishment easily and equitably followed every degree of virtue and vice. But, though such a condition as our present state is undoubtedly calculated to form virtue, it is not a state so well calculated to reward it, or to punish vice. A state of probation, therefore, infallibly conducts us to a state of retribution.

The instance, which we were about to observe, as a strong indication of some future day of recompense, is this. There are numerous examples of good men suffering, on the very account of their piety and integrity, from the hands of the wicked. Now, how much soever such trials may exercise and improve the character of the sufferer, yet, exclusive of a life to come, such virtue not only seems not to meet with any adequate recompense, but does not appear to answer any purpose of wisdom and goodness, but to be punished with misery and destruction. Let it be admitted, that the sufferings of the good man have contributed to form his virtue; yet, if there be no future recompense, for what is it formed? To be destroyed? What! a harvest which has sprung from religion, the very root and principle of which is faith in God, and the hope of the life to come, and yet he, who doeth nothing in vain, hath formed such virtue in vain? Impossible! What we know and have seen of God will not allow us to believe this disappointment, or that those, who have fallen in the cause of virtue, have perished.