I will venture a few reflections on a subject which has often been treated; the course of my subject naturally leads to it: but in order to avoid, as much as possible, what is generally known, I shall confine myself to consider the morality of the gospel, under a point of view which seems to me to distinguish its sublime instructions.

The most distinct characteristic of christianity is the spirit of charity and forbearance which pervades all its precepts. The ancients, undoubtedly, respected the beneficent virtues; but the precept which commends the poor and the weak, to the protection of the opulent, belongs essentially to our religion. With what care, with what love, the Christian legislator returns continually to the same sentiment and interest! the tenderest pity lent to his words a persuasive unction; but I admire, above all, the awful lesson he has given, in explaining the close union established between our sentiments towards the Supreme Being and our duties towards men. Thus, after having termed the love of God, the first commandment of the law, the Evangelist adds; and the second, which is like unto it, is to love thy neighbour as thyself. The second, which is like unto it! what simplicity, what extent in that expression! Can any thing be more interesting and sublime, than to offer continually to our mind the idea of a God taking on himself the gratitude of the unfortunate? Where find any principle of morality, of which the influence can ever equal such a grand thought? The poor, the miserable, however abject their state, appear surrounded with the symbol of glory, when the love of humanity becomes an expression of the sentiments which elevate us to God; and the mind ceases to be lost in the immensity of His perfections, when we hope to maintain an habitual intercourse with the Supreme Being, by the services which we render to men; it is thus that a single thought spreads a new light on our duty, and gives to metaphysical ideas a substance conformable to our organs.

Justice, respect for the laws, and duty to ourselves, may be united, in some manner, to human wisdom; goodness alone, among all the virtues, presents another character; there is in its essence something vague and undeterminate which claims our respect; it seems to have a relation with that intention, that first idea which we must attribute to the Creator of the world, when we wish to discover the cause of its existence. Goodness then is the virtue, or to express myself with more propriety, the primitive beauty, that which has preceded time. Thus the pressing exhortations to benevolence and charity, which we find running through the gospel, should elevate our thoughts, and penetrate us with profound respect; it recals us, it unites us, to a sentiment more ancient than the world, to a sentiment, by which we have received existence, and the hopes which compose our present happiness^[9].

But if, from these elevated contemplations, we, for a moment, descend to the political principles which have the greatest extent, we shall find there the influence of a truth on which I have already had occasion to dwell; but I shall now treat it in a different manner. The unequal division of property has introduced amongst men an authority very like that of a master over his slaves; we may even justly say, that in many respects the empire of the rich is still more independent; for they are not bound constantly to protect those from whom they require services: the taste and caprice of these favourites of fortune fix the terms of their convention with men, whose only patrimony is their time and strength; and as soon as this convention is interrupted, the poor man, absolutely separated from the rich, remains again abandoned to accidents; he is obliged then to offer his labours with precipitation to other dispensers of subsistence; and thus he may experience, several times in the year, all the inquietudes that must necessarily arise from uncertain recourses. Undoubtedly, in giving the support of the laws to a similar constitution, it has been reasonably supposed, that in the midst of the multiplied relations of social life, there would be a kind of balance and equality between the wants which oblige the poor to solicit wages, and the desires of the rich which engage them to accept their services; but this equilibrium, so essentially necessary, can never be established in an exact and constant manner, since it is the result of a blind concourse of combinations, and the uncertain effect of an infinite multitude of movements, not one of which is subject to a positive direction. However, since to maintain the distinction of property they were obliged to leave to chance the fate of the greater number of men, it was indispensably necessary to find some salutary opinion, proper to temper the abuses inseparable from the free exercise of the rights of property; and that happy and restoring idea could only have been discerned in an obligation of benevolence imposed on the will, and a spirit of general charity recommended to all men: these sentiments and duties, the last resource offered to the unfortunate, can alone mitigate a system, in which the fate of the most numerous part of a nation rests, on the doubtful agreement of the conveniences of rich with the wants of the poor. Yes, without the aid, without the intervention of the most estimable of virtues, the generality would have just reason to regret the social institutions, which, at the price of their independance, left to the master the care of their subsistence; and it is thus that charity, respectable under so many different views, becomes still an intelligent and political idea, which serves to blend personal liberty and the imperious laws of property.

I know not if ever the christian precepts have been considered under this point of view; but reflecting a little on this subject, we perceive more than ever of what importance the salutary institutions are, which place in the first rank of our duties the beneficent spirit of charity, and which lends to the most essential virtue all the force and constancy which religion gives birth to. Thus, at the same time that the doctrines of the gospel elevate our thoughts, its sublime morality accompanies, in some measure, our laws and institutions, to sustain those which are really conformable to reason, and to remedy the inconveniences inseparable from the imperfections of human wisdom.

It is not, however, only to pecuniary sacrifices, that the gospel applies its precepts respecting charity; it extends to those generous acts of self-denial, that religion alone can render supportable; and which makes some descend with a firm step into the dreary abodes, in which the culprit is a prey to the remorse that tears his heart; and when his very relations have abandoned him, he still beholds a comforter, whom religion conducts to pour consolation into his afflicted soul. The same motives and thoughts induce some to renounce the world and its hopes, to consecrate themselves entirely to the service of the sick, and to fulfil those sad functions with an assiduity and a constancy, that the most splendid reward could never excite. O rare and disinterested virtue, perfection of piety! what a tribute of admiration is due to the sublime sentiment which inspires such painful self-denial! Men are only stimulated by notions of right and justice; it belongs to christianity to impose duties, whose base is placed beyond the narrow circle of our terrestrial interests. I know not, but it seems to me, that, notwithstanding a diversity of opinions, we cannot help being affected, when we contemplate the sketch of the last day which the gospel delineates: it exhibits a terrific and sublime picture of that day, in which all actions are to be revealed, and the most secret thoughts have the universe for a witness, and God as a judge; and at the moment when we wait to see the retinue of virtues and vices which have rendered men celebrated, it is a single quality, a virtue without splendour, which is chosen by the Divine Arbiter of our fate, to derive an immortality of happiness from, and He pronounces these memorable words, which contain in a small compass our whole duty:—I was hungry, and ye gave me meat; thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a prisoner and ye visited me. Come ye blessed of my father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you, &c. Men love to contemplate the triumphs of goodness—love to exalt it under different forms. We have so many wants, are so weak, and we are able to do so little for ourselves, that this interesting virtue appears our safeguard and the mysterious tie of all nature.

The spirit of charity, so essential in its exact interpretation, may be applied to the regard and delicate attention that different degrees of talents, render necessary: society, under this relation, has also its rich and poor; and we know the extent of charity and the secrets of our moral nature, when we practice that general benevolence, which preserves others from feeling a painful sentiment of inferiority, and which makes it a duty to respect the veil, that a beneficent hand has designedly placed between the light of truth and those imperfections which we cannot entirely correct.

It is always about the generality of men that the author of christianity seems to be interested; the gospel takes cognizance of their private sentiments, condemning pride, and recommending modesty; and it applies itself to level those distances which appear to us so important, when we only view the little points of gradation which compose our scale of vanity. Religion enables us to discern that haughtiness and contempt, only display our ignorance and folly: what hast thou, that thou didst not receive? now if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory?—What is the pride that does not melt away before these awful words? Religion seems ever to tend towards the same end, and by continually reminding us of the brevity of life, to prevent strong illusions from engrossing our thoughts.

The greater part of ancient moral instructions were in general addressed, either to man considered as an individual occupied with the care of his destiny, or to the citizen connected by his duties to his country, and none of them had sufficient extent: it is necessary, when giving counsel to a solitary individual, only to try to free him from those passions which would destroy his repose and happiness; and the obligations that are imposed on the different members of a political state, necessarily participate of a jealous spirit, which the will of the government may turn into hatred. The Christian religion, more universal in its views, turns its attention from the contrariety of interests which divide men when they belong to different governments; it considers us indistinctly as citizens of a great society, united by the same origin, nature, and dependencies, and by the same sentiment of happiness. Recommending the reciprocal duties of benevolence, the gospel does not make any difference between the inhabitant of Jerusalem and Samaria; it takes man in the most simple of his relations, and the most honourable, those which arise from his intercourse with the Supreme Being; and under this point of view, all the hostile divisions of kingdom against kingdom, absolutely disappear; it is the whole human race which has a right to the protection and the beneficence of the Author of Nature, and it is in the name of every intelligent being that we credit the alliance which unites heaven to earth.

The rich and powerful made the first laws, or, at least, directed the spirit of them; it was especially to defend their possessions and privileges that they extolled justice: the legislator of our religion, speaking of this virtue, has shown, that the interests of all men were equally present to his thoughts; we might even say, that he made an old obligation a new duty, by the manner in which he prescribed it: Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them, is a maxim ever remarkable, if we consider the extent of the precept which it contains: there are so many acts of severity and oppression, so much tyranny, which escapes the reach of the law, and the superintendency of opinion, that we cannot too highly value its importance; Christianity indeed affords a simple guide and measure for all our actions.

Religion, beside, in order to fix our determinations, strengthens the authority of conscience: she saw, that every one of us has within himself a judge, the most severe and clear-sighted, and that it is sufficient to submit to its laws to be instructed in our duty; for it is our hidden thoughts that this judge examines, and nothing is excused, no subterfuge admitted.

It is not the same with those censures which we exercise towards others, the simple actions only strike us; and the different motives they result from, the emotions, the conflicts which accompany them, and the regret, the repentance, which follow them, all these essential characteristics escape our penetration: thus religion, always wise, always benevolent in its counsels, forbids our forming hasty and precipitate judgments; and we cannot read, without emotion, that lesson of indulgence so mildly addressed to the crowd which surrounded the woman taken in adultery, he that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her. But how resist being affected by admiration, when we see religion so warmly employed about the fate of those whom the suspicions or false accusations of men have dragged before their tribunals? by declaring that it is better to let a hundred culprits escape punishment, than run the risk of condemning a single person unjustly. This tender anxiety corresponds with every sentiment of our hearts. Innocence delivered to infamy, innocence encompassed with all the horrors of an execution, is the most dreadful sight that the imagination can present; and we are so struck by it, that we should be almost disposed to think, that before the Supreme Being the whole human race is responsible for such a crime: yes, it is under Thy protection, O my God, that unknown virtue and injured innocence take shelter; men turn towards Thee for comfort when pursued by men, and it is not in vain that they trust in that awful day when all shall be judged before Thee.

I wish only to dwell on the particular character of the Christian religion, as it proportions the merit of our actions, not to the grandeur or importance of them; but to the relation that they have with our abilities, it is an idea absolutely new: this system, which presents the same motives and rewards to the weak and strong, remarked the widow’s mite, as well as the generous sacrifices of opulence; this system, as just as rational, animates, in some measure, our whole moral nature, and seems to inform us, that a vast circle of good actions and social virtues are submitted to the same rules, as the immense domain of physical nature, in which the simplest flower, or the most insignificant plant, concurs to perfect the designs of the Supreme Being, and composes one part of the harmonious universe.

The superintendance of the Christian religion extends still further than I can point out; and guided by a spirit not to be equalled, it estimates our intentions, obscure dispositions, and internal determinations, often separated from action by different obstacles: it directs men, in some measure, from their first sentiments and designs; it continually reminds them of the presence of God; warns them to watch over themselves, when their inclinations are but dawning, before they have gained strength; in short, at an early hour it forms the mind to the exercise of virtue, by discriminating virtue and vice, and reminding us to cultivate a love of order and propriety before the active scenes of life force those sentiments to appear conspicuously displayed in actions.

But the more the methods of meriting the divine approbation are multiplied, the more essential is it that our confidence should not be depressed, every instant, by the sentiment which arises from the experience of our errors; it is necessary, that at the moments, too frequent, when the chain which unites us to the Supreme Being would escape from our grasp, the hope of again seizing it should remain with us: it is then to succour our weak faith, that we see in the gospel that idea at once so excellent and new, that of repentance and the promises which are annexed to it. This noble idea, absolutely belonging to Christianity, prevents our relation with the Deity from being destroyed as soon as it is perceived; the culprit may still hope for the favour of God, and after contrition confide in Him. Human nature, that singular connexion of the spirit with matter, of strength with weakness, of reason with the imagination, persuasion with doubt, and will with uncertainty, necessarily requires a legislation appropriated to a constitution so extraordinary: man, in his most improved state, resembles an infant, who attempts to walk, and falls, rises and falls again; and he would soon be lost to morality, if, after his first fault, he had not any hope of repairing it; under a similar point of view, the idea of repentance is one of the most philosophical which the gospel contains.

That pressing recommendation to do good in secret, without ostentation, is the result of a salutary and profound thought: the legislator of our religion undoubtedly had perceived that the praises of men was not a basis sufficiently steady to serve for the support of morality; and he discerned, that vanity, allowed to enjoy these kind of triumphs, was too dissipated to be a faithful guide; but the most important part of that precept is, that morality would be very circumscribed, if men only adhered to those just actions which all the world might see; there are not many opportunities to do good in public, and the whole of life may be filled by unseen virtues: in short, from that continual relation with our conscience, a relation instituted by religion, there results an inestimable benefit; for it is easy to perceive, that if we have within us a clear-sighted and severe judge, this same judge turns consoler and friend every time that we are unjustly condemned, or when events do not answer according to the purity of our intentions; and we believe then that we have almost two souls, one aiding and sustaining the other on every occasion in which virtue unites them.

The severe censure of superstition, which we find throughout the gospel, is derived from an idea as reasonable as enlightened; men are too much disposed to make their religion consist of little exterior practices, always easier than the conflicts with and triumphs over the passions: our minds seize with avidity every extraordinary idea; when they are in part of our own creating, they aid our self-love to subjugate our imagination; man is not at the age of maturity terrified by those phantoms which annoy his infancy; but mysteries, occult causes, extraordinary appearances, continue to make an impression on his mind; and like the wonders of nature, form too large a circle round his thoughts; it is by ideas more proportioned to his strength, by mere superstition, that he permits himself often to be led captive: we love trivial commands, observances, and scruples, because we are little ourselves, and that in our weakness we would wish to know every instant the limits of our obligations.

Sometimes, persons terrified by their imaginations, or by the confused picture which they form of the duties of religion, attach themselves to superstitious practices as a safeguard near at hand which may quickly guard them from the different anxieties of their minds. The precepts of the gospel are designed to destroy these dispositions; for on one side, they facilitate the study of morality, by reducing to simple principles the entire system of our duties; and on the other, they seek to render our intercourse with the Supreme Being more easy, by teaching us that we may unite ourselves to Him by the expansion of a pure mind; by informing us, that it is not either on Mount Sion or Gerizim that we are to raise an altar; but that every honest heart is a temple, where the eternal is adored in spirit and in truth. The Christian religion is the only one which, discarding ceremonies and superstitious opinions, leads us to the worship more consonant to our nature: Christianity indeed, in that grand thought, has pointed out the dictates of our conscience as most worthy of respect; benevolence, as the worship most agreeable to the Supreme Being, and all our moral conduct as the most certain prognostic of our future state. There reigns a profound philosophy in the doctrines of the gospel, men have only added a vain pageantry, a more sounding tone.

Let us render homage to Christianity, for that sacred tie which it has formed, in uniting not for a moment, but for the whole of life, the fate of two beings, one having need of support, and the other of comfort: it is religion which refines this alliance by rendering it immutable, and obliges men not to sacrifice to the caprices of their imaginations the unity and confidence which secures the repose of families, order in the disposition of fortunes, the peaceable education of the succeeding generation, and which, in giving to children, for an example, a union formed by fidelity and duty, implants in their hearts the seeds of the most important virtues; religion has taught us, that the friendships of a world, in which selfishness reigns, have need of being cemented by that community of interests and honours which marriage only gives us an idea of; holy union, alliance without equal, which renders still more valuable all the blessings of life, which seems to augment our hopes, and fortify in us the comfortable thoughts and mild confidence which piety gives birth to: the engagements entered into between men, which being, for the most part, sounded on reciprocal services, a time might come, when our weakness would be so great, others having no more interest to associate with us, it might be necessary to find a support in that friendship which time has matured, and of which a sentiment of duty repairs the breaches, and which acquires a kind of sanctity from the habit and the remembrance of a long and happy union: it is religion in, short, which has ordained, that the delicate virtue, the most excellent ornament of a weak and timid sex, should only be subject to the ascendency of the most generous and faithful sentiment.

These principles, indeed, are not formed for corrupt hearts; but the service which religion renders, the end which it proposes, is to assist us to combat our depraved dispositions; it is to point out the errors and the snares of vice; it is to preserve, amongst us, the sacred deposit of principles, which are the foundation of public order, and still maintain some light to illuminate the path of wisdom and true happiness.

Religion recals us continually to those universal duties which we describe under the name of good morals; duties that men would often inconsiderately wish to separate from public interest, but which, however, are bound to it by so many almost imperceptible and secret ties. Every act of wisdom and virtue is not of immediate importance to society; but morality must be cultivated by degrees, and fortified by habit, as it is like those delicate plants which we rear with a kind of fondness to preserve their beauty; if we make a distinction between personal, domestic, and public manners, in order to neglect, as we find convenient, one part of our duty, we shall lose the charm of it, and every day virtue will appear more difficult.

There is, I think, a connexion, more or less apparent, between every thing good and worthy of esteem; and it seems to me, that this idea has something amiable, which confusedly satisfies our most generous dispositions and most comfortable hopes: and if, to sustain a truth so important, I was permitted to interrogate the young man, whose virtues and talents are the most remarkable in Europe, I should ask him, if he did not experience that his filial tenderness, the regularity of his domestic life, the purity of his thoughts, and all his rare private qualities, are not united to the noble sentiments which make him appear with so much splendour as a statesman? But without dwelling on such instances, who has not been sometimes struck with the beauty attached to that simplicity and modesty of manners which we often find in an obscure situation? We then manifestly discover, that there exists a kind of agreement and dignity, I could almost say, a kind of grandeur, independent of refined language, polished manners, and all those advantages due to birth, to rank, and fortune.

I have only glanced over the benefits arising from the Christian religion; but I cannot avoid observing, that we owe to it a consoling idea, that of the felicity reserved for innocent babes; interesting and precious hope for those tender mothers, who see slip from their embraces the objects of their love, at an age when they have not acquired any merit before the Supreme Being, whom they cannot have any relation with, but through His infinite goodness. I feel that I involuntarily mix with the elogiums of Christianity a sentiment of gratitude for the mild and paternal ideas which are disseminated with its instructions; and there is something remarkable in those instructions, that they are continually animated by every thing which can captivate our imagination, and associate with our natural inclinations. Sensibility, happiness, and hope, are the strongest ties of a heart still pure; and all the emotions which elevate towards the idea of a God exalt in our minds the doctrine of morality, which recals us continually to the sublime perfections of Him who was its author.

In short, we cannot avoid admiring the spirit of moderation, which forms one of the distinct characteristics of the gospel; we do not always find, it is true, the same spirit in the interpreters of the Christian doctrines; several constrained by a false zeal, and more disposed to speak in the name of a threatening master, than in that of a God, full of wisdom and goodness, have frequently exaggerated and multiplied the duties of men; and to support their system, they have often obscured the natural sense, or the general import of the precepts contained in the scriptures; and sometimes also, collecting a few scattered words, they have formed a body of divinity, foreign in several respects to the intention of the apostles and first Christians. Servants always go further than their masters; and as the first thought does not belong to them, they only act by adding something heterogeneous: the spirit of moderation consists, beside, in a kind of proportion, which mere imitators have only an imperfect knowledge of; fortitude is even necessary to impose limits on virtue itself; and to determine the precise and exact measure of the multiplied duties of men requires a profound and sublime intelligence. It was by his sublime precepts that the institutor of a universal morality shewed himself superior to that age of ignorance in which extremes reigned; when piety was changed into superstition, justice into rigour, indulgence into weakness; and when, in the exaggeration of every sentiment, a kind of merit was sought for incompatible with the immutable laws of wisdom: it was by those sublime precepts, in short, that a legislator rose above transitory opinions to command all times and ages, and that he appears to have been desirous to adapt his instructions, not to the instantaneous humour of a people, but to the nature of man.

We shall, beside, find easily in the gospel several characteristics proper, essentially to distinguish it from philosophic doctrines; but in an examination so serious and important I avoid every observation which might appear to the greater number a simple research of the understanding; it is the grand features only which belong to grand things, and any other manner would not agree with a subject so worthy of our respect. I must say, however, that when I am left alone to reflect with attention on the different parts of the gospel, I have experienced, that, independent of general ideas and particular precepts which lead us every instant to profound admiration, there reigns, beside, in the whole of that sublime morality, a spirit of goodness, of truth, and wisdom, of which all the characters can only be perceived by our sensibility, by that faculty of our nature which does not separate objects, which does not wait to define; but which penetrates, as by a kind of instinct, almost to that love, the origin of every thing, and that indefinite model from which every generous intention and grand thought has taken its first form.