revelation. I begin with a definition of the term :-revelation signifies information supernaturally communicated; and according to this general definition, it comprehends not only the discovery of truths which lay beyond the range of reason, but the publication, with new evidence and lustre, of such truths as are within its reach, but of which, in its present corrupt state, it had not been able to form distinct conceptions.

The first remark which I make is, that a revelation is possible. There is no reason to doubt, that he who had imparted to man a certain degree of light, by endowing him with intellectual powers, might impart to him a higher degree by some other means. In doing so, he would only act the same part with a person of superior talents and acquirements, who should make known to his pupils, by oral instruction, certain recondite truths which their utmost efforts could not have discovered. The subject may be illustrated by another comparison. Revelation is to the mind what a glass is to the eye, whether it be intended to correct some accidental defect in its structure, or to extend its power of vision beyond its natural limits. God, when he gave understanding to man, did not exert himself to the utmost of his power; nor did he come under an obligation never to enlarge this faculty, or to furnish it with extraordinary assistance. If man should sustain any injury in the intellectual part of his nature, there was nothing to hinder his benevolent Creator from repairing it; nor, if he should be brought into such circumstances that new knowledge was needed, was there any physical or moral cause which could prevent him from affording it. Revelation does not imply a reflection upon the original work of God, as if he had made man an intelligent creature, but afterwards found that the degree of intelligence was not adequate to the purposes of his being. The most zealous advocates for revelation maintain that reason, in its pure state, was perfectly sufficient for all the ends which it was intended to accomplish, and that the necessity of revelation arises from a new state of things, superinduced by man himself. He now needs more light, and it is the business of revelation to impart that light. All reasoning, the object of which is to establish the prior impossibility of a revelation, is manifestly absurd.

But attempts have been made to prove this point by arguments of a different kind. Doubts have been raised, whether a revelation could be made, because it does not appear how a person could be certain that it was a genuine revelation, and not a dream or an illusion of fancy. "Enthusiasts," it has been said, "who are prompted only by a wild imagination, and persons in a phrensy, or the raving fit of a fever, are as fully satisfied of the reality of the things represented to them, and convinced of the truth and soundness of their own notions, as those are whose senses are clear and perfect, and whose reason is in its full vigour." On this ground, it has been represented as not easy to conceive how the prophets and apostles, as we call them, could have been so confident as they were that God had in reality made any revelation to them. But this argument is so foolish, that it may seem equally foolish to give a serious answer to it. What is the amount of it? It is this, that there is much imposture in the world, and therefore there is no truth; that many persons are deceived, and therefore no man can know that he is in the right. To what purpose tell us of the dreams of enthusiasts, or of men labouring under fever or lunacy? We are speaking of persons in the full possession of their senses; for those to whom divine communications were made, although powerfully impressed, and strongly excited to act under their impulse, were not agitated like the priests of Baal, or the Pythoness of Delphi, but retained the calm exercise of their faculties, and were able to distinguish among their thoughts those which could be traced to a natural cause, and those which proceeded from a higher source. Besides the objection is

founded on a supposition, than which one more absurd cannot be conceived, that although God might make a communication to the mind of an individual, he could not convince that individual that it was a communication from himself. He could infuse ideas into his mind, but he could not enable him to discern whether they were true or false, whether there was any thing real in them, or they were the shadowy creations of fancy. A man can assure his correspondent, that the message which he receives, comes from him, and not from another; but God, it seems, possesses no means of authenticating his declarations. It must for ever remain uncertain, whether they are the dictates of infinite wisdom, or the offspring of a disordered brain. The man who should think that there is any force or even any degree of plausibility in this argument against the possibility of a revelation, may be justly considered as destitute of common sense. I can hardly believe that any infidel was ever so stupid as to lay any stress upon it; and am disposed to suspect that it may be referred rather to the malice, than to the cool judgment of those by whom it has been retailed. We, indeed, cannot tell how inspired men distinguished divine communications from the suggestions of their own minds, for this obvious reason, that they have not informed us, and we have not experienced such communications. But our ignorance ought not to be opposed to their knowledge, and to the unquestionable fact, that God could stamp upon his communications infallible signatures of truth.

But although a person, to whom a divine communication was made, might be fully assured of the source from which it came, it has been objected, that the assurance must remain with himself, as there are no means by which he can produce a similar conviction in others. To this argument it has been replied, that God might enable him to give such signs as should satisfy others that he is his messenger. But this answer, which seems to be perfectly rational, infidels are not disposed to admit, and they endeavour to evade it by various pretexts. Some of them argue as if miracles were impossible. If they mean, that there is no power by which a miracle could be performed, we may close this controversy with them, because it is manifest, that they are atheists in their hearts, whatever hypocritical professions they may make of their belief of a Deity; if they mean, that God, having established the laws of nature, will never alter them, they assume a principle which they cannot support by a shadow of proof, and which we are at perfect liberty to deny. Is he bound by fate, like the gods of heathenism? or has he bound himself by an immutable decree? What should hinder him from occasionally changing his ordinary mode of operation, when some great purpose of his moral government will be accomplished by the change? Whether would wisdom be more displayed by pursuing a uniform course, without any regard to new combinations of circumstances, or by deviating from it, to meet the emergencies which might arise in the progress of events? It is not worth while to spend time in refuting a gratuitous assumption. If it can be shown, that a single alteration or suspension of the laws of nature ever took place, these profound speculations vanish into smoke.

But some, who admit that miracles are possible, maintain that they are not sufficient to prove a revelation, upon this ground, that there is no necessary connexion between truth and power. We acknowledge that the power of man may be, and often has been, exerted in favour of falsehood; but what has this to do with the dispensations of an all-perfect Being, in whose eyes truth is sacred, and of whom it would be blasphemous to suppose that he would interpose to lead his creatures into error? But the infidel will perhaps tell us, that this is not what he means. He suspects no intention in the Deity to deceive; but he cannot place confidence in the fidelity of his messengers; or, at least, he has no assurance that they would honestly deliver their message, VOL. I.-4

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and religiously abstain from adding to it, or taking from it. They may alter it to serve a particular purpose, and may employ the miraculous power with which they are invested, to give authority and currency to imposture. But, surely, as God is thoroughly acquainted with the characters of men, and foresees their future actions, we might assume it as certain, that he would not commit a trust so important, so intimately connected with his own glory, and the happiness of his creatures, to any person by whom he foresaw that it would be abused. The supposition of its abuse is a direct impeachment of the knowledge or the wisdom of God in the arrangement of his plan. Besides, no man who believes that God has power over his creatures, over their minds as well as their bodies, can doubt that he is able to exert, and would exert, a controlling influence upon his servants, which would prevent them from corrupting, and suppress all desire to corrupt, the revelation which they were appointed to deliver to the world. They would be thus far passive in his hands, that they could not frustrate his design in selecting them. It is vain to tell us that men are voluntary agents; for while we admit this truth, we know that their freedom does not render them independent of their Maker; that by some mysterious link, it is connected with the immutability of his counsel; and that their liberty is unimpaired at the moment when they are fulfilling what he had determined before to be done. But there is another consideration, which will still more clearly demonstrate the absurdity of the supposition, that men may apply to a different purpose the miraculous powers with which they are endowed in order to attest revelation. Infidels seem to suppose, that a man may possess the power of working miracles, in the same manner as he possesses the power of moving his arm; that, by the gift of God, it becomes inherent in him, and is as much subject to his will as any of his natural powers. But their ideas are totally erroneous. Even among Christians, there is perhaps an indistinctness of conception upon the subject; and they speak of the power of working miracles as if it were some divine virtue, residing in the person by whom it is exercised. But in this sense, the power of working miracles was never vested in any mere man. In every case, God was the worker of the miracles; and all that belong to the prophet or apostle was to give the sign, or to pronounce the words, which the miracle immediately followed. No person ever dreamed, that, when Moses stretched out his rod over the Red Sea, he exerted a power by which its waters were divided; the account given by himself accords with the suggestions of reason on the subject: "And Moses stretched out his hand over the sea; and the Lord caused the sea to go back by a strong east wind all that night, and made the sea dry land, and the waters were divided."* The same remark may be made upon all other miracles, which were equally beyond the sphere of human ability. If this statement be correct, it follows that the case supposed is altogether imaginary. No man could abuse the power of working miracles, because, to speak strictly, no man ever possessed it. The power was in God. and not in his servant; and could the servant wield the omnipotence of his Lord at his pleasure? No; he might give the usual sign, or pronounce the usual words, but, if it was his intention to deceive, no effect would have followed. This argument, therefore, against the possibility of a revelation, is as destitute of force as the others. It is founded in a confusion of ideas, in a gross misapprehension of the subject, and will cause no difficulty to those who consider that men were merely the instruments of the miracles which God was pleased to work by his immediate power.

Having shown that a revelation is possible, and pointed out the futility of the pretexts, by which a proposition so simple and obvious has been perplexed,

Exod. xiv. 21.

I remark, in the next place, that it is desirable. In this sentiment, all will con cur but those who account religious truth a matter of absolute indifference, or who believe that reason is sufficient for all the discoveries which are necessary to guide men to virtue and happiness. Infidels adopt the latter principle, but at the same time give abundant evidence that they are influenced by the former. In no part of their conduct is there any indication of reverence for religious truth, and of a sincere desire to discover it; but they continually betray symptoms of levity and impiety, a contempt for seriousness, a disposition to cavil rather than to inquire, to muster up objections, to perplex evidence, to involve every thing in doubt, and to turn the most solemn of all subjects into ridicule; so that, it should seem, that there is nothing which they are less eager to discover than truth, and that nothing would be so unwelcome as a clear and convincing manifestation of it. But, whatever are the thoughts of men devoted to pleasure, and living without God in the world, every person, who feels that he is an accountable being, must be desirous to know by what means he may fulfil the design of his existence, and obtain the happiness of which his nature is capable.

That a revelation is desirable is evident from what you heard in the preceding lecture. I there considered reason as a source of theology, and proved its insufficiency to give us satisfactory information respecting the doctrines of natural religion. It is proper, in this place, to take a short review of the observations which were made upon this subject. It appeared, that the existence of one God, which is the fundamental principle of religion, is not discoverable by reason, or, at least, cannot be discovered by it with such clearness as to produce a firm, permanent, and practical conviction of it in the mind. Hence we find, that not only did the people in all heathen nations fall into polytheism and the grossest superstition, but the philosophers patronised, by their example, the errors of the vulgar; and if they sometimes spoke of one God in their writings, there was nothing like certainty and consistency in their opinions. Amidst their speculations, the idea occurred to them, but obscurity hung upon it, and to the wisest of them he remained an unknown God. It appeared also, that their notions of his relation to man were exceedingly imperfect. None of them believed a proper creation, all holding the eternity of matter; and their views of providence, even when they approached nearest to the truth, were very different from those which we have learned from revelation, as they maintained the doctrine of fate, to whose irresistible decrees the gods, as well as men, were compelled to bow. It appeared further, that, although they had made greater progress in the science of morality, the general precepts of which are suggested by conscience, by the relations subsisting among men, and by means of private and public utility, they were not able to deliver a perfect code of duty. In their best systems, there were great defects; virtue was mistaken for vice, and vice for virtue; there were omissions which ought to have been supplied, and redundancies which ought to have been retrenched. Besides, their moral precepts wanted authority; in proportion as the sanctions of religion were imperfectly understood, their power over the heart was feeble; they were rather themes of declamation than rules of practice, and proved utterly insufficient to render the teachers themselves virtuous, and, as might be naturally expected, to restrain the torrent of licentiousness among the people. Lastly, it appeared, that with respect to the immortality of the soul, the wisest men lived and died in doubt. In the popular creed, future rewards and punishments had a place; but they were treated with derision by those who boasted of superior wisdom, partly on account of the ridiculous manner in which they were described by the poets, and partly because they rested upon no solid ground. They were reputed

tales of the nursery, or the fictions of poets. The light of nature was too feeble to dispel the darkness which enveloped the world beyond the grave.

A revelation was desirable, although had it gone no further than to solve those doubts, and to shed light upon the doctrines of natural religion. These were interesting to all, and engaged the particular attention of men of reflection; but the success of their inquiries by no means corresponded with the earnestness of their wishes. In these circumstances, would not revelation be acceptable, as is the rising of the sun to the bewildered traveller, who is anxiously seeking the road to the place of his destination, but cannot find it amidst the darkness of the night? There are several passages in the writings of the heathens which show, that while they were sensible of their ignorance, they were persuaded that there was no remedy for it but in a divine interposition. The truth is," says Plato, speaking of future rewards and punishments, "to determine or establish any thing certain about these matters, in the midst of so many doubts and disputations, is the work of God only." Again, one of the speakers, in his Phædo, says to Socrates concerning the immortality of the soul, "I am of the same opinion with you, that, in this life, it is either absolutely impossible, or extremely difficult, to arrive at a clear knowledge in this matter." In his apology for Socrates, he puts these words into his mouth, on the subject of the reformation of manners: "You may pass the remainder of your days in sleep, or despair of finding out a sufficient expedient for this purpose, if God, in his providence, do not send you some other instruction." But the most remarkable passage is in the dialogue between Socrates and Alcibiades, on the duties of religious worship. The design of the dialogue is to convince Alcibiades that men labour under so much ignorance, that they should be exceedingly cautious in their addresses to the gods, and should content themselves with very general prayers, or what is better, not pray at all. "To me," he says, "it seems best to be quiet; it is necessary to wait till you learn how you ought to behave towards the gods, and towards men.” "When," exclaims Alcibiades," when, O Socrates! shall that time be, and who will instruct me, for most willingly would I see this man who he is?" "He is one," replies Socrates, "who cares for you; but, as Homer represents Minerva as taking away darkness from the eyes of Diomedes, that he might distinguish a god from a man, so it is necessary that he should first take away the darkness from your mind, and then bring near those things by which you shall know good and evil.” "Let him take away," rejoins Alcibiades, "if he will, the darkness or any other thing, for I am prepared to decline none of those things which are commanded by him, whoever this man is, if I shall be made better." ."* The passage is truly curious, and deserves particular attention from us at this time, as a proof of the longings of nature for such a revelation as has been since given to the world. The wisest philosopher of antiquity acknowledged it to be necessary, and ventures to anticipate it, without, however, knowing what he said. His disciple was transported at the thought, and professed his readiness to submit to the lessons of his teacher. It is only among the present race of unbelievers, the Socrateses and Platos of modern times, as they would have us to account them, that the idea of a revelation is held up to ridicule, and the self-sufficiency of reason is maintained.

What were the ideas of the heathens in general with respect to a revelation, we may infer from some parts of their religion. Their prayers were applications to the gods for direction and assistance in the conduct of affairs; their priests and priestesses, whom they believed to be inspired, their omens and auguries, and their oracles which they consulted in cases of difficulty, were so many testimonies to the general conviction, that the ignorance and infirmity

Platonis Alcibiad. ii.