folute. It removes all the fecurity which fecrecy can be fuppofed to give to crimes. It aggravates the guilt of them, from being committed in face of the Almighty; and has power to ftrike terror into the heart of the greatest criminal, in the midst of his misdeeds. While this principle of religion thus checks and terrifies the finner, it produces also another effect, that of ftrengthening and comforting the good man, in the practice of his duty. It is the influence of the divine prefence on good men, which, in confequence of the Pfalmift's fentiment, I purpose to confider. To their character, it belongs to be continually with God. I fhall endeavour to fhow the high benefit and comfort which they derive from fuch a habit of mind; and fhall, for this end, firft confider their internal moral state; and next, view them as they are affected by feveral of the external accidents and fituations of life. LET us begin with confidering them in their internal ftate. The belief of divine X. SERM. prefence acts upon them here, first, as an incitement to virtue. The prefence of one whom we highly efteem and revere, of a fovereign, for instance, a father, or a friend, whose approbation we are folicitous to gain, is always found to exalt the powers of men, to refine, and improve their behaviour. Hence, it has been given as a rule by ancient moralifts, that, in order to excel in virtue, we should propound to ourselves some person of eminent and distinguished worth; and fhould accuftom ourselves to act, as if he were ftanding by, and beholding us. To the esteem and approbation of their fellow-creatures, none are infenfible. There are few who, in the confpicuous parts of their life, when they know the eyes of the public to be fixed on them, act not their part with propriety and decorum. But what is the observation of the public, what is the presence of the greatest or wifeft man on earth, to that presence of the Divinity which conftantly furrounds us? The man who realifes to his mind this auguft prefence, feels a conftant incen tive X. tive for acquitting himself with dignity, SERM. He views himself as placed on an illuftrious theatre. To have the Almighty for the fpectator and witnefs of his conduct, is more to him than if the whole world were affembled to obferve him. Men judge. often falfely, always imperfectly, of what paffes before them. They are imposed on by fpecious appearances; and the artful carry away the praise which is due to the deferving. Even fuppofing them to judge fairly, we may want the opportunity of doing justice to our character, by any proper difplay of it in the fight of the world, Our situation may bury in obscurity, those talents and virtues which were intitled to command the highest esteem. But he, in whose presence the good man acts, is both an impartial, and an unerring, judge of worth. No fallacious appearances impose on him. No fecret virtue is hidden from him. He is attentive equally to the meaneft and the greateft; and his approbation confers eternal rewards. The man, therefore, who fets the Lord always before him, is SERM. is prompted to excel in virtue by motives, X. which are peculiar to himself, and which engage, on the fide of duty, both honour and intereft. I have kept thy precepts, and thy teftimonies; for all my ways are before thee * SUPPOSING, however, his virtuous endeavours to be faithful, many imperfections will attend them. A faultlefs tenor of unblemished life, is beyond the reach of man. Paffions will fometimes overcome him; and ambition or interest, in an unguarded hour, will turn him afide into evil. Hence, he will be afhamed of himfelf, and difquieted by a sense of guilt and folly. In this ftate, to which we are often reduced by the weakness of human nature, the belief of God's continual prefence brings relief to the heart. It acted before as an animating principle. It now acts as a principle of comfort. In the midst of many imperfections, a virtuous man appeals to his Divine witness, for the fincerity of his * Pfalm cxix. 168. intentions. intentions. X. He can appeal to him who SERM. knows his frame, that in the general train of his conduct, it is his ftudy to keep the law of God. Mere law, among men, is rigid and inflexible. As no human lawgiver can look into the hearts of his fubjects, he cannot, even though he were ever prefent with them, eftimate their character exactly. He can make no allowance for particular fituations. He must prescribe the fame terms to all whom he rules; and treat all alike, according to their outward actions. But every minute diversity of character, temper, and fituation, is known to God. It is not only from what his fervants do, but from what they seek to do, that he forms his judgment of them. He attends to all thofe circumftances which render the trial of their virtue, at any time, peculiarly hard. He hears the whifper of devotion as it rifes in the foul. He beholds the tear of contrition which falls in fecret. He fees the good intention ftruggling in its birth; and purfues it, in its progress, through |