rising to the contemplation of himself, and with the capacity of aspiring to the imitation of his own moral perfections. We cannot, for a moment, doubt, that his eye must reach its inmost movements, and that all its emotions, and desires, and volitions are exposed to his view. We must believe that he looks with displeasure when he perceives them wandering from himself; and contemplates with approbation the contest, when the spirit strives to throw off its moral bondage, and to fight its way upwards to a conformity to his will. Upon every principle of sound philosophy, all this must be open to his inspection; and we can perceive nothing opposed to the soundest inductions of reason in the belief, that he should impart an influence to the feeble being in this high design, and conduct him to its accomplishment. In all this, in fact, there is so little improbability, that we find it impossible to suppose it could be otherwise. We find it impossible to believe that such a mental process could go on without the knowledge of him whose presence is in every place, or that, looking upon it, he should want either the power or the willingness to impart his effectual aid.

But, independently of our conviction of an actual communication from the Deity, there is a power in the mind itself, which is calculated to draw down upon it an influence of the most efficient kind. This is produced by the mental process which we call Faith; and it may be illustrated by an impression which many must have experienced. Let us suppose that we have a friend of exalted intelligence and virtue, who has often exercised over us a com

manding influence,-restraining us from pursuits to which we felt an inclination,-exciting us to virtuous conduct, and elevating, by his intercourse with us, our impressions of a character on which we wished to form our own. Let us suppose that we are removed to a distance from this friend, and that circumstances of difficulty or danger occur, in which we feel the want of a guide and counsellor. In the reflections which the situation naturally gives rise to, the image of our friend is brought before us; an influence is conveyed analogous to that which was often produced by his presence and his counsel; and we feel as if he were actually present, to render his advice and watch our conduct. How much would this impression be increased, could we further enter tain the thought, that this absent friend was able, in some way, to communicate with us, so far as to be aware of our present circumstances, and to perceive our efforts to recall the influence of his character upon our own. Such is the intercourse of the soul with God. Every movement of the mind is known to him; his eye is present with it, when, in any situation of duty, distress, or mental discipline, the man, under this exercise of faith, realizes the presence and character of the Deity, and solemnly inquires how, in the particular instance, his moral feelings and his conduct will appear in the eye of Him who seeth in secret. This is no vision of the imagination, but a fact supported by every principle of sound reason, an influence which a man brings down upon himself, when, by an effort of his own mind, he thus places himself in the immediate presence of

every

the Almighty. The man who does so in decision of life is he who lives by faith; and, whether we regard the inductions of reason, or the dictates of sacred truth, such a man is taught to expect an influence greater and more effectual still. This is a power immediately from God, which shall be to him direction in every doubt,-light in every darkness,strength in his utmost weakness, and comfort in all distress; a power which shall bear upon all the principles of his moral nature, when he carries on the mighty conflict of bringing every desire and every volition under a conformity to the Divine will. We again hazard with confidence the assertion, that in all this there is no improbability; but that, on the contrary, the improbability is entirely on the other side, in supposing that any such mental process could take place without the knowledge and the interposition of that incomprehensible One, whose eye upon all his works.

is

PART III.

OF THE MORAL PRINCIPLE, OR CONSCIENCE.

THERE has been much dispute respecting the nature and even the existence of the moral principle, as a distinct element of our mental constitution; but this controversy has now probably passed away, along with other speculations of a metaphysical nature, in regard to which a kind of evidence was sought of which the subjects are not susceptible. Without arguing respecting the propriety of speaking of a separate power or principle, we simply contend for the fact, that there is a mental exercise by which we feel certain actions to be right, and certain others wrong. It is an element or a movement of our moral nature which admits of no analysis, and no explanation, and is referable to no other principle than a simple recognition of the fact, which forces itself upon the conviction of every man who looks into the processes of his own mind. Of the existence and the nature of this most important principle, therefore, the evi

dence is entirely within. We appeal to the consciousness of every man, that he perceives a power which, in particular cases, warns him of the conduct which he ought to pursue, and administers a solemn admonition when he has departed from it. For while his judgment conveys to him a certain impression, both of the qualities and the tendencies of actions, he has, besides this, a feeling by which he views the actions with approbation or disapprobation, in reference purely to their moral aspect, and without any regard to their consequences. When we refer to the sacred writings, we find the principle of conscience represented as a power of such importance, that, without any acquired knowledge, or any actual precepts, it is sufficient to establish, in every man, such an impression of his duty as leaves him without excuse in the neglect of it. "For when the gentiles, which have not the law, do by nature the things contained in the law, these, having not the law, are a law unto themselves: Which show the work of the law written in their hearts, their conscience also bearing witness, and their thoughts the meanwhile accusing or else excusing one another." We even find a power assigned to the decisions of conscience, differing in extent only, but not in kind, from the judgment of the Almighty-" If our heart condemn us, God is greater than our heart, and knoweth all things."

The province of conscience then appears to be, to convey to man a certain conviction of what is morally right and wrong, in regard to conduct in individual cases, and the general exercise of the