own reaſon, that I could ſooner believe that the Deity paid no attention to the conduct of men, than that he puniſhed without the benevolent deſign of reforming.
To ſuppoſe only that an all-wiſe and powerful Being, as good as he is great, ſhould create a being foreſeeing, that after fifty or ſixty years of feveriſh exiſtence, it would be plunged into never ending woe—is blaſphemy. On what will the worm feed that is never to die?—On folly, on ignorance, ſay ye—I ſhould bluſh indignantly at drawing the natural concluſion, could I inſert it, and wiſh to withdraw myſelf from the wing of my God!—On ſuch a ſuppoſition, I ſpeak with reverence, he would be a conſuming fire. We ſhould wiſh, though vainly, to fly from his preſence when fear abſorbed love, and darkneſs involved all his counſels!
I know that many devout people boaſt of ſubmitting to the Will of God blindly, as to an arbitrary ſceptre or rod, on the ſame principle as the Indians worſhip the devil. In other words, like people in the common concerns of life, they do homage to power, and cringe under the foot that can cruſh them. Rational religion, on the contrary, is a ſubmiſſion to the will of a being ſo perfectly wiſe, that all he wills muſt be directed by the proper motive—muſt be reaſonable.
And, if thus we reſpect God, can we give credit to the myſterious inſinuations, which inſult his laws? can we believe, though it ſhould ſtare us in the face, that he would work a miracle to authoriſe confuſion by ſanctioning an error? Yet we muſt either allow theſe impious concluſions,
or,