is, he dares not long converfe with himself, and with his own thoughts; and the worit company in the world is better to him, that that of a re proving confcience.

A lively and late proof of this we had in a certain writer, who fet up for delivering men from these vain fantastic terrors; and was on that ac◄ count, for a feafon much read and applauded. But it is plain that he could not work that effect in himself, which he pretended to work in others: For his books manifeftly fhew, that his mind was over-run with gloomy and terrible ideas of dominion and power; and that he wrote in a perpetu al fright against thofe very principles, which he pretended to contradict and deride: And fuch as knew his converfation well, have affured us, that nothing was fo dreadful to him, as to be in the dark, and to give his natural fears an opportuni➡ ty of recoiling upon him. That he was timour ous to an excefs, is certain; he himself owns it, in the account which he wrote of himfelf, and which is in every one's hands: But he did not care to own the true reafon of it, and therefore lays it upon a mighty fright, which seized his mother, when the Spainiards attempted their fa mous invasion, in the year 1588, the year int which he was born. The more probable account of it is, that it naturally fprung from his own conduct and method of thinking. He had beens endeavouring all his life time, to get rid of those religious principles, under which he was carefully educated by his father (a divine of the church of England), and to fet up for a new fyftem and feet, which was to be built upon the ruins of all thofe

truths,

truths, that were then, and had ever been held facred by the best and wifeft of men. It was vanity pushed him on to this attempt, but he could not compafs it. He was able, here and there, to delude a fuperficial thinker with his new terms and reasonings: But the hardest task of all that was, thoroughly to deceive himself. His understanding could not he completely impofed upon, even by its own artifices; and his confcience, every now and then, got the better of him in the ftruggle; fo he lived in a perpetual fufpicion and dread of the reality of thofe truths, which he reprefented as figments; and, while he made fport with that kingdom of darkness (as he loved to call another world), trembled, in good earnest, at the thought of it.

Tiberius that complete pattern of wickedness and tyranny, had taken as much pains to conquer thefe fears as any man, and had as many helps and advantages towards it, from great fplendour and power, and a perpetual fucceffion of a new bufinefs, and new pleafures; and yet, as great a mafter of the art of diffimulation as he was, he could not diffemble the inward fenfe of his guilt, nor prevent the open eruptions of it upon very improper occafions. Witness that letter, which he wrote to the Senate from his impure retreatment at Capreæ. Tacitus has preferved the first lines of it; and there cannot be a livelier image of a mind filled with wild distraction and defpair than what they afford us: Quid fcribam Vobis, P. C. aut quomodo scrivam, aut quid omnine non fcribam hoc tempore, Dii me Deaque pejus perdant, quam perire quotidie fentio, fi fcio! That is, VOL. IV. "What,

I

1

"What, or how, at this time, I fhall write to you, "fathers of the Senate, or what indeed I fhall "not write to you, `may all the powers of hea❝ven confound me yet worse than they have al "ready done, if I know, or can imagine!" And his obfervation upon it is well worthy of ours, and very appofite to our prefent purpofe: "In this

manner (fays he) was this emperor punished "by a reflexion on his own infamous life and "guilt; nor was it in vain that the greatest maf

ter of wifdom (he means Plato) affirmed, that " were the breafts of tyrants once laid open to "Yourview, we fhould fee there nothing but ghaft

ly wounds and bruifès; the confcioufnefs of "their own cruelty, lewdnefs, and ill conduct; leave "ing as deep and bloody prints on their minds, "as the strokes of the fcourge do on the back of "a Slave. Tiberius (adds he) confeffed as much, " when he uttered thefe words; nor could his "high ftation, or even privacy and retirement "itfelf, hinder him from difcovering to all the

world the inward agonies and torments, un"der which he laboured." Thus that excellent hiftorian *.

Believe it, the tales of ghosts and spectres were not (as is commonly faid) the mere inventions of defigning men to keep weak minds 'in' awe; nor the products of a religious fear, degenerated into melancholy and fuperftition; but wicked men, haunted with a fense of their own guilt) as the cruel Tetrarch Kere in the text, with the Baptift's

About this paffage of Tiberius. fec Hooker's excellent re Acxions, p. 307, 368.

murder),

murder), were used to affright themfelves with fuch phantoms as thefe, and often mistook ftrong: and terrible imaginations for real apparitions. Thus I am fure, the author of the book of wisdom very naturally accounts for them in his 17th chapter; out of which, I thall receite a large paffage, very appofite to the point which we are now handling. He is there, with great elegance, defcribing that panic fear, which feized the impious. Egyptians, when (as he speaks) "they were fet"tered with the bonds of a long night, and fhut: "up in their houses, the prisoners of darkness. "Then," fays he, they who had supposed that "they lay hid in their fecret fins, were horribly

aftonifhed and troubled with ftrange fights. "For neither might the corner that held them, "keep them from fear; but noifes, as of waters "falling down, founded about them, and fad ❝ vifions appeared unto them with heavy.countenances, And they that. promifed to drive. "away terrors and troubles from a fick foul" (the men, we may fuppofe, who fet up for confounding the notions of good and evil, and ridiculing confcience)" were fick themselves of fear.

worthy to be laughed at. For though no trrri"ble thing did affright them, yet being feared "by beasts that paffed by, and biting of ferpents, "they died for fear; refufing to look upon the air, which on no fide could be avoided For "wickedness" (as he concludes) " condemned by its own witnefs, is very timorous; and heing preffed with confcience, always forecastetla grievous things!"

I know it will be faid, that though this be of

ten, yet it is not always the cafe; fince we have now and then inftances of men, who lead very flagitious lives, and yet feel not any of thefe qualms or guirds of confcience; but do, in all appearance, live eafily, and fometimes even die calmly Which could not be (say the objectors) if the principle of conicience, and the condemning power of it were natural to man; for it would then act like ther natural principles, univerfally, and without exception. Having hitherto therefore i uftrated this truth by obfervations drawn from Scripture, realon, and experience; I now proceed on my

I Second general Head, To account for this difficulty, which attends the proof of it. In order to it,

1. 1 observe, that we are deceived often in the judgments we pass on fuch occafions. In our common intercourfe with the world, we fee only' the outfide and furface, as it were, of mens actions, but cannot tell how it is with them inward-’ ly and at the bottom. We frame our opinions of them from what paffes in conversation and public places, where they may be upon their guard, acting a part, and ftudying appearances.' The hypocrite in perfection will put on the maik fo artificially, that it fhall feem to be real and natural. Decency, and a defire of esteem, fhall' enable men to cover great paffions and frailties, which, nevertheless, fit very close to them, and,' as foon as those restraints are taken off, break out with freedom. We have read of thofe, who have been endued with fuch a confrancy and firmness of temper, as even to endure the rack, and to appear compofed under the pains of it, without

Owning