nor a private individual public jealousy and rivalship. The man who is always afraid of the Deity, fears every thing else, the earth, the sea, the air, the heavens, darkness, light, noise, silence, dreams. Sleep soothes the prisoner, the sick, the afflicted. This belongs not to superstition. To her alone sleep brings no repose, nor suffers her, by the removal of erroneous conceptions of the Godhead, to enjoy any degree of composure. But the superstitious, as if transferred into the region of impiety, always behold direful images and spectres, inflict on themselves continual punishment, dispel sleep by dreams, and remain under the most merciless tyranny. When awake they despise not nor smile at their dreams, nor rejoice that they are dreams only, but flying from images whose deception is harmless, they impose on themselves in reality; and in great consternation consult soothsayers and quacks, who advise them to adopt the most absurd and horrid expedients for the removal of their agitations. Tyrants are terrible to those only who are subject to their dominion. The citizens of a free state experience no apprehensions from this quarter. A slave may obtain some relief by a change of masters; but what change can bring ease to the superstitious man, who cannot remove from his tyrannical gods? To the rest of mankind, death is the termination of life; to the superstitious it is not so, but ex tends his terror beyond the present scene, and joins, with death, eternal evils, and all the horrors of unceasing misery. These he ascribes, not to his own wickedness, but to the malignity of some persecuting god." In this treatise I have already observed that the author prefers atheism, or the rejection of a plurality of gods, to such superstition, as he has described it, with all the vivid colours of his powerful pen. He assigns for this opinion a very ingenious reason, which has been often quoted. "I would rather," says he, "that men should believe that Plutarch never existed, than that they should say that he was a fickle, irascible, and, on the slightest grounds, vindictive man." It is indeed difficult to say whether gross superstition or atheism offers the most flagrant insult to the Supreme Being. The former removes him entirely from the world, and leaves its government to the unmeaning terms of chance or fate, or absolute necessity, which exclude all moral administration, destroy the sanctions of rectitude, and burst the strongest ties of human society. On the other hand, gross superstition misrepresents the divine nature, disfigures and blackens the attributes of Deity, and places religion in something totally different from moral practice. Nay, it induces those who are under its influence to suppose that they can please the Deity either by flagitious actions or by insignificant rites and ceremonies. It is, in fact, the renunciation of the one true God; gives, as is the case with idolaters, to imaginary deities, the honour due to him alone; or, if it acknowledge him, offers him a worship repugnant to his character, and pernicious to the best interests of his moral and intellectual creation. On this account, idolatry, sorcery, magic, and every species of absurd worship, are so severely condemned by scripture, and regarded as rebellion against God, or a contempt of his ordi nances. It is, however, to be observed, that superstition, admitting some sort of religious principle, may be reformed and converted to pure religion. How many of the first converts to Christianity had been idolaters, and addicted to the grossest pagan superstition! Heathen converts still continue to be made; but how can he who denies the first principle of all piety, the existence of a Deity, be induced to embrace any system of pure religion which must stand on the basis which he has set aside? We are indeed informed, that the physician Galen was cured of atheistical principles by the examination of the wonderful structure of the human body. But I apprehend that those who, actuated by philosophical pride and the love of distinction, have adopted the atheistical system, will not be moved by any evidence whatever. Atheism is like a dead palsy which destroys every energy, and admits of no cure. Superstition is a severe and debilitatiug distemper, which may be cured by potent medicines. Besides, superstition is generally accompanied by erroneous sincerity; and though she devises many means for evading the obligation of an oath, she acknowledges its sanctity. Atheism cannot admit the binding power of an appeal to that Being whose existence it denies, and indeed must loosen every moral obligation whatever. On these accounts, though both are most insulting to God, and pernicious to mankind, I deem atheism to be the most pestiferous of the two. In fine, superstition originates in erroneous and gross conceptions of the Supreme Being, and in consequent representations of him, borrowed from the human character. Hence, by the superstitious, he is sometimes viewed as stern, inexorable, and vindictive; and in this case, cruel macerations, penances, bloody rites, and even human sacrifices, are practised, in order to appease him. At other times he is considered as vainglorious, and pleased with adulation and glaring testimonies of respect. When this view predominates, magnificent pageants and splendid solemnities will constitute his worship. If he is regarded as weakly, indulgent, and profusely munificent, expensive offerings and donations, as ex pressions of gratitude, decorate the shrines and temples dedicated to his honour. If some portion of each of these contemptible or odious characters mingle in the general conception of supreme power, bloody rites, splendid pageants, and costly offerings will succeed each other in the worship that is paid to it. It is thus the character of superstition to vilify Deity, to debase the human race, and to confirm moral corruption, by pretending to secure the divine favour by practices, not only unconnected with morality, but repugnant to it, whose observance must be the only service acceptable to the infinitely wise, good, and powerful God. It is astonishing how much superstition still exists among both the high and the low vulgar, even in protestant countries. Under what other denomination can be brought the belief of ghosts and hobgoblins, of sorcery and magic, of fortune-telling and of dreams, as predictions of future events? To what other cause can we ascribe the irresistible power so often ascribed to the devil and his subordinate agents, as if his reign were independent of the supreme Deity? What but superstition induces men so often to refer the most important events of life to the most insignificant and trifling causes, which have no existence but in their own distempered imaginations? Nay, such is the inherent weakness of human nature, that I am not certain that some |